#Non-binary Y/N

[starheart-blog]

To Everyone, i made Non-binary Y/N The Cat Character For The Julius The Cartoon Cat au one shots and HeadCanons.

[meiyokbf]

headcannon | megan x transmasc!reader

author’s note: so so so excited to finally be writing for the katz! lemme know what you guys think of this, and please excuse my poor grammar, lol.

warnings: pre transition!reader at the beginning, transmasc!reader, obvi. it kinda goes for both non-binary readers and transmen, too. hrt therapy & top surgery mentioned. nsfw at the end, MDNI.

🏷️: katseye x reader, megan x reader, katseye smut, katseye, megan skiendiel, transmasc reader.

megan had absolutely NO CLUE that you were having these kinds of thoughts about your gender identity.

which is why she got a little bit surprised when you came out to her as transmasc.

poor girl couldn’t get the clues. 😭

but needless to say she was the most supportive girlfriend ever since the very first day.

“look at me, my love…” she held your hands while you looked at her, a couple of tears streaming down your face as you let yourself feel vulnerable in front of her. “tell me your name, hm?”

“(y/n)…” she smiled like a child when she heard it for the first time, kissing your cheek right on top of one of the tears.

“your name is so beautiful, baby.”

you KNOW that she would act like the proudest girlfriend ever.

even though she knew little to nothing about transitioning.

but even though she struggled to understand a few things at first, she never deadnamed you; or used the incorrect pronouns with you.

and god helped the poor soul who did it in front of her.

megan driving you to your first hrt consult!!!!

and of course, getting a speed ticket because of how fast she wanted to get there.

megan writing the day down so she can remember the first day you got your very first t-shot.

and girlie would 100% make you do the “hi my name is (y/n) and i’m one day on testosterone” trend.

megan would absolutely be thrilled when you told her you wanted to tell the katz.

pookie would have to hold her tongue because she was so excited about it that she wanted to share with her sisters asap!!!

and obviously she held your hand tight when you told the girls, even though you knew it’d be alright.

“guys i have a BOYFRIEND NOW!!”

she LOVES LOVES LOVES calling you “my boy” by the way.

unironically changed your contract to “my favorite guy in the world.”

was THRILLED when the T changes started to show.

and pookie would be like “baby look at your BEARD.”

would definitely learn how to help you when you were feeling extra dysphoric.

and would put an alarm on her phone every time you wore a binder to remind both of you that you shouldn’t wear it for more than 6 hours.

obviously would take you to the courthouse to finally kill off your dead name.

and i just KNOW girlie would throw a death-themed party afterwards with a tombstone cake.

megan would take you (and all of the katz) to the trans pride parade in los angeles.

she wouldn’t care if fans noticed her and asked her for pictures, she just wanted to be with you.

and she wanted you to know that she loved you no matter what.

pookie would remind you every day that she was proud of you for doing this. 🥺

megan would leave post-its (exclusively with the colors of your flag) on your kitchen before going to practice.

“don’t forget to eat lunch today, sweet boy!”

“have a nice day, my prince!”

but every now and then she would write the most awful jokes.

“do you speak english or do i need to TRANS-late?”

getting so so so so excited when you finally got cleared for top surgery!!!

almost DEMANDING hybe to give her some weeks off so she could take care of you 24/7.

which, obviously, she did.

girlie wouldn’t let you do ANYTHING when you were post-op.

“megan you don’t have to come to the bathroom with me…”

“but what if you need help to take a shit”

once you got the bandages and the drains off, and you finally got to see your new chest, megan cried more than you did.

and she obviously took 300 pictures so she could look at your chest whenever she wanted.

once you got comfortable with it, she showed them to the katz too.

“it must suck that i have the hottest boyfriend ever and you guys don’t.”

overall she would be the sweetest person in the world ugh.

now here’s where it gets funny.

megan was SO scared to have sex with you at first.

not because she didn’t know what to do, because she surely did.

but she was terrified of crossing a boundary with you or doing something that triggered your dysphoria.

so you guys had a long, long conversation about this before she could actually relax and feel a little less anxious about fucking you.

babes, let’s face it. that girl is a bottom.

even when she tops, she subs.

she just wants to make you feel good all of the time.

megan would absolutely take advantage of the fact that you had significant bottom growth.

and girlie would put her legs on your lap while you were talking to the katz or doing something that required your attention, just so she could rub her legs on your dick as hard as she could.

would absolutely make you buy the biggest packer available too.

“you know how well i can take you, baby.”

is a sucker for missionary.

it’s when she can feel you the most.

and pookie LOVES dirty talking, too.

with a tiny bit of a daddy kink.

“fuck, daddy… your dick is filling me up so nice, ugh…”

and obviously *cough cough* breeding kink *cough*.

everything that was slightly gender-affirming to you turned the shit out of her.

she wanted you to know that right now, she needed her man to fuck the life out of her.

and also. blowjobs. all. the. time.

she would DIE whenever you came in her mouth.

the feeling of having your t-dick pulsing between her lips made her feel insane.

and every time you’d put her hair up in a ponytail she would melt.

obviously would top you the only way she knows how.

would have her way with you while looking the puppiest she’s ever looked.

“is this good enough, my boy?” “am i being good?”

she wants you to know you’re in charge here.

and she just wants to be good for you.

[0o-junebug-o0]

MORE AUTISTIC FEM! READER X SPENCER PLEASEEEE maybe her getting overstimulated at a bar with the team? or at the store? i neeeeddddd more of them!!

Bad Time at the Bar

here you go!! tho it's gn!reader bc gender didn't really come up, hope you don't mind!

genre: hurt/comfort

cw: autistic!reader, explicitly autistic spencer reid, overstimulation (and not the fun kind), meltdown (which reads a lot like a panic attack bc that's what my meltdowns are like), kinda self harm (hitting) and chewing lip until bleeding), internalized ableism and autism viewed in a negative light (spencer talks to reader about it and provides reassurance), completely gn!reader (reader is not described at all)

wordcount: 1.3k

There are too many people. The smell of sweat and alcohol hangs heavy in the air and burns your nose. The room is saturated with noise. Drinks clinking on tables, music playing, people talking. Your head pounds and you regret not bringing your headphones. You thought you’d be fine. You’ve never needed them when at the bar with the team in the past. Someone bumps into you and the unexpected contact causes panic to build in your chest. There’s not enough room. Everything feels like it’s closing in on you.

You suck in a breath through your teeth, gripping your bottle of beer so hard you’re surprised the glass doesn’t shatter. You chew on the inside of your lip until you taste blood, but it does nothing to soothe your quickly growing panic. 

You look around frantically, your eyes so wide you feel like they’re about to burst from your skull. Finally, you spot Spencer. He’s gathered around a table with Derek and some strangers, talking animatedly about something. You stagger forward, nearly tripping over your own feet as you try to reach him. People slam into your shoulders and chest and you can feel the burn of tears welling in your eyes. The tears cause the already painfully bright lights to reflect directly into your eyes so you blink hard and wipe them away.

Your whole body shakes and you desperately want to raise your hands to cover your ears but you’re still holding your drink and there’s not enough room and it’s embarrassing. You can feel your heart pounding throughout your body and your limbs feel like they’re going numb.

By some miracle, you manage to reach Spencer. You stumble toward him, reaching out and clinging to his arm. He startles and turns to look at you. Immediately, concern rushes over his face and he takes your drink and passes it to Derek before gently grabbing your hand. As quickly as he’s able, Spencer guides you through the bar toward an exit, using his own body to force people aside and away from you despite his dislike of germs. 

He holds open the back door and you practically fall into the alley. The door closes and immediately the smells, lights, and sounds lessen. You sink to the ground, pressing your hands against your ears now that there is no one but Spencer to see you. You curl your knees to your chest and stare with wide eyes at the ground. Each breath you take is a rasping, heaving mess, and a distressed groan forces itself from your throat with each exhale.

You feel like you’re dying.

Spencer crouches down beside you, sitting with his legs crossed and leaning against the wall, and you immediately press your body into his. You curl your legs beneath you and lean awkwardly in a way that hunches your back and presses your forehead into his knee. You squeeze your eyes shut and you can feel the way your tears soak his pants.

Spencer drapes himself over your back, using his body to provide the grounding pressure he’s learned you need in times like this. He wraps his arms around you and squeezes tightly. You let out a broken sob and slam the heel of your palm into the side of your head.

“Hey, hey,” Spencer mutters, gently taking a hold of your wrist. 

You shake your head. You need to hit. You need it. And there’s no way to redirect.

Spencer releases your hand and you move it to thump it against your chest.

“Okay, that’s better than your head,” Spencer says to himself. He squeezes your body in intervals and the varying pressure helps ground you. Slowly your sobs lessen to sniffles and hiccuping breaths and the hand hitting your chest falls limp against Spencer’s leg. 

“You’re okay,” Spencer mutters, rubbing his hand up and down your arm. “You’re going to be alright.”

You sniffle and move your head to press it against his stomach. 

“Hi, sweetheart,” he says softly. You can hear the love and care in his voice. “You feeling a bit better?”

You hum and nod against him.

“Do you need some more time, or do you want to go home?” he asks, keeping his body pressing against yours in case you still need the pressure.

You tap his leg twice.

“Home?” he asks sweetly.

You nod, and Spencer sits back. The sudden lack of pressure makes your body feel weird, and part of you wants to drag him back down. You decide against it, knowing that you’ll get used to it quickly and that Spencer will hold you again when you get home.

Spencer carefully guides you to your feet and, keeping an arm wrapped around you, leads you out of the alley and down the street to his car. He opens the passenger side door and you climb in. 

“Will you be okay for a minute or two while I run back in to grab our stuff from JJ?” Spencer asks.

You nod and do your best to smile at him. Spencer smiles back and closes the door. He locks the car and jogs back toward the bar. 

You sigh and wrap your hands around your stomach. Guilt and embarrassment coil painfully in your chest. You can’t believe that just happened. You should have been fine. Why this time? Why the one time you didn’t bring your headphones? You groan in frustration. Why couldn’t you just be normal? And Spencer. You feel so guilty for dragging him away from the rest of the team and the fun he was having to deal with you.

There’s a soft click as the doors unlock, then Spencer opens the driver's side door and climbs inside. You keep your head bowed as he closes the door and reaches into the backseat to set down both of your stuff. 

You see him still out of the corner of your eye, and he rests his hand gently on your shoulder. “Hey, what’s going on?” he asks.

“I–I’m sorry,” you mutter weakly.

“For what, sweetheart?”

“For this! For everything!” you cry. “You–you were having fun and I ruined it! You shouldn’t have to deal with this!”

Spencer says your name softly and, when you don’t respond, he whispers, “Please look at me.”

You slowly raise your head, wiping away the tears streaming down your cheeks.

“You have nothing to be sorry for. I don’t care what it is I’m doing, if you’re upset or need help, I will always drop everything to be there for you. And it’s not ‘dealing with you’, baby. We’re partners. It’s our job to take care of each other. You can’t control when you get overstimulated or have a meltdown.”

“But I could have!” you insist. “I didn’t bring my headphones because I thought I’d be fine like every other time and then I wasn’t! It’s my fault I freaked out like this. I should be able to handle it.”

“There is no ‘should’. Having a meltdown will never be your fault. And I know you know that, because you would never think these things about me when I have a meltdown.”

Your jaw drops. “Of-of course not!” you stutter, taken aback.

“Then why is it different for you?” Spencer asks. “Why is your autism bad but mine isn’t?”

You open and close your mouth for a moment, unsure of what to say.

Spencer doesn’t speak.

“I–I don’t know,” you eventually admit.

“It’s because it isn’t bad. I understand why you might feel that way or why you feel guilty about making me deal with it, as you say. But I help you because I love you and care about you and because I want to. Just like you help me because you love and care about me and want you. And I will always choose to help you and be there for you, no matter what, no matter how ashamed you may feel. Okay?”

Your chin wobbles, and soon tears are streaming down your face as you let out a wailing sob.

Spencer leans over the armrest to hug you, neither of you caring about the awkward angle. 

You pull back and wipe at your eyes. “C-can we go home, now?” you ask weakly.

“Of course, sweetheart,” Spencer says kindly.

“And then cuddles?”

“Always.”

_____

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[hambiichu]

Captain's confession

Sumarry: Levi doesnt know how to confess to you so he asks his trusted people: Erwin and Hanjie.

-------

"You what?" Erwin looks at Levi then at Hanjie, the confused look evident in their faces. "Can you repeat that?" 

"How do I confess them?" Levi repeats through his gritted teeth, he felt emberassed to repeat it but he knows damn well it was the first time Erwin and Hanjie ever heard Levi asks that question.

Erwin puts his pen down, clasps his hands together on the desk, and asks, "Who's them?"

"Them."

Oh.

Everyone knows you are the captain's little assistance, you followed him around like a lost dog. You consistently deliver his tea at the same time on the same day, work with him on paperwork, and assist him with cleaning his office and quarters.

Levi starts to develop feelings for you throughout these periods.

Wait.

Or it already been there from the start?

The first time he saw you; love touched his heart at first sight and grew deeper and stronger until it consumed his thoughts every day.

The fact that a grown man in his mid-30s liked you made him feel embarrassed at first. It was the first time he had ever liked someone who made his stomach turn over and his heart ache even a little. As though God made you specifically for him, he didn't feel this strongly about anyone until you came around. He keeps it hidden inside of him with his typical stoic demeanour.

You are a bold adult, and it is not dishonourable to back down from any obstacles, no matter how small, that put his worries for your safety at bay. He watches you like a bounty hunter, and he hates it when you are irresponsible, let alone put yourself in danger.

He admires you, your skills, your face, the way you laugh with others, and how you get along. It's like he can't compete with that. He sometimes thinks hes not good for you; you are his captain, and you just a comrade.

Every time he thinks about it, it hurts his heart to realise that, despite your perfection, you are more ideal for someone else than for him. Hell, has he never indicated whether you genuinely like him?

He understands that you respect him as captain and that he does the same for you, but if he's being completely honest with himself, he would prefer to let you go if you have ideal someone than him. That way, it will be much simpler for him to move on.

Even it hurts so much.

"Why them?" Erwin asks, raising his bushy eyebrow, giving Levi a warm kind smile.

"Is shorty in love?" Hanjie teases, wiggling their eyebrows.

"Shut it, four-eyes! Who says I am in love? Is just a question!" Levi crosses his arms stubbornly, tapping his foot impatiently. "Why them? Well, is easy, them! Thats all."

"You're not giving us an exact reason why them," Erwin chuckles lightly, side-glancing at Hanjie, who's grinning plastered on their face. "Why them? In all people, Levi. They're just your comrade."

"Yeah! Why them? Care to give us a reason why?" Hanjie still wiggles their eyebrows. Levi wants to throw a chair at them if he wants if Erwin allows him.

"I am not explaining much why them!" Levi gritted his teeth again. "I just wanna know how do I confess to them? Explaining why them is a waste of time. I used my willpower to ask them if they're free from this evening and said yes, I am not losing chances."

Erwin and Hanjie exchange a knowing smile as they glance at each other. Erwin's eyes scan Levi's entire body, assessing his current state of stress and anticipation for the confession he will make to you this evening. He hums to himself, aware that his own closest friend is in love. It is an uncommon sight, to predict that this short, stoic man is in love and is seeking assistance in how to confess.

"We'll help," Erwin straightens himself. "First and foremost, you need to calm down, take a deep breath, and know whatever the upcoming they'll say is up to you to react."

"What if they say no?" Levi gripped his nails to his forearms; he hates the thought but is up to him to react. "What if they rejected me on the spot? How would that help me?"

"Go find someone new; it's easy as that," Hanjie chirms, placing their elbow at the armrest and their hand on their cheek. "Yknow, if you got rejected, then the only comfort way is to find someone new."

"Is not that easy, four eyes!" Levi grumbles as he furrowed his eyebrows. "I'd been weighing on my mind every day; thinking about them is like a fucking annoying fly that buzzes around at my ears. They're like a god at my eyes, and they're the purest human being that set on this planet."

He makes eye contact with the two, and he inhales deeply before exhaling through his mouth. His nail is sinking further into his forearms, and he's tapping his foot more impatiently now simply because he's so nervous. Only you are what he desires. He hates the thought and finds it much worse than he expected, and he has a hard time finding someone else if you reject him.

"I don't want someone new," Levi sighed calmly, "I want them."

That made Erwin and Hanjie look at each other again. Oh, he's really in love. Really, Erwin clears his throat as he inhales and looks at Levi with his calm, ocean blue eyes.

"If you confess, what would you say?" asks Erwin, which caused Hanjie to roar in laughter.

"Will you marry me?"

"Shorty, that's not how you say it!" Hanjie laughs harder, causing Levi to stand up and shake them violently to stop laughing, his face tinted with red and his eyes bulging out of his sockets.

Erwin attempts to contain his laughter, but Levi snaps his head at him. If Erwin isn't a commander, Levi might do the same to Hanjie. Even so, he returns to his chair, averting his gaze as he crosses his arms and taps his foot once more.

Hanjie adjusts their uniform, still grinning. "How about not that. If you're not up to tell your feelings, why not buy something for them at least?" Erwin suggested. "That way, they instantly know the gesture and that you can tell them you like them."

"How would I know what they want?" Levi huffs, "They're never told me the things they'd like."

"Flowers." Hanjie suggested, "If you can't tell what they like, then maybe start giving them gifts."

"Eugh. What if they are allergies to flowers?"

"Nonsense! There's an open flower shop down town; they give the best flowers. Trust me, they'll love what you bought!"

Levi thinks for a moment and nodded slowly, "I guess I'll buy it. Is worth the money to spent."

Erwin nodded in comprehension as Hanjie clapped their hands, and Levi got up from his chair and gave him the thumbs up. He modifies his carvant, restyles his hair, and pats his fictitious dust on his clothing. After closing his eyes and taking a long breath, he felt as though he was ready for anything.

"I am ready," He says checking the time. "I should be going."

Hanjie gave him a roar of support and Erwin do the same.

"And if anything happens, pull out method is your champion!" Hanjie exclaimed before Levi departed.

He gave them the finger.

-

Levi never asks you whether you're free, so you were rather anxious. Your dying crush on your captain asked you that question for the first time, and you replied in the affirmative. Why did you say Yes? Why did you readily acquiesce and now pay the price?!

Oh my, Sina walls. What's got into you?!

You have been pacing around for minutes after he ordered you to meet up in his office. You have attempted to divert your attention by looking at anything in his office to calm yourself, but this isn't working. This isn't even functioning!

What is he going to do? Murder you? Asks you to clean the quarters from top to bottom? Clean horses? Kick Jean and Eren to stop them from fighting again? Do more paperwork? Ripped Erwin's bushy eyebrows at one point Levi told you he hates those?

You clutched your hair in exasperation, as though you wanted them to tear it out. The moment you saw him for the first time, you were infatuated. He is the most skilled soldier in humanity, a captain, an ackerman, a clean freak, and attractive. What else is there to desire in a man?

Oh lala, you are so in love!

On several occasions, you begged Mikasa for assistance in confessing Captain Levi Ackerman. Even though she's bored of you chatting about Levi for so long, she still wants to choke you with her red scarf.

She indeed helped yes and was very supportive calmly, but that one conversation still lingered in your mind that may or may not you despise her:

"If he has a short dick like his height, you choose the wrong man."

You picked the right one, man, hell! You always do; you know that. To boost your confidence even further, he is the ideal man you have been looking for! You choose him the first you lay eyes on that gorgeous face, and you're not backing down.

At last, you took a exhaled deeply, and let everything out. You must maintain your composure. When Levi arrives at this office, you follow his instructions as always.

Click.

Looking up to see Levi enters the office, your jaw drops to the floor. Your eyes bulge in shock at the scene unfold. What the fuck?

Levi has chocolate with a teddy bear and the largest bouquet of flowers. He handed you the flowers and set the chocolate and teddy bear on the desk, facing you. Holding on to them as your arms nearly give out from the weight.

"Wh-What I am gonna do with these flowers, sir? P-put them in your vase?" You stammered your words to your shock Levi shakes his head.

"Not put them in the vase, is for you." He says, crossing his arms as your eyes wide in shock. For you? This all for you?!

"Sorry, what?" You blink at him. Levi scoffs as he looks away, a red hue across his cheeks and his eyebrows furrowered. "For me?"

"Yes, for you." Levi begins, "I have to fight a rich guy from the flower shop, saying he doesn't care if I am a captain or humanity's strongest; he needs those flowers for his girlfriend."

You are stunned at your spot. Your blood reached to your cheeks, and you tried to let out some words, but it got stuck in your throat. Is this.. something you'd been dreaming about? Levi confessing to you? Or this is something else.

"You don't have to fight—"

Levi cuts you off with his hand. "He's rich fucker, and he can get what he wants. To me, that's well spent money. Do you not like it? I also bought chocolate and teddy for you."

You nodded at him and swallowed as you looked at the flowers. They are lovely, fresh from the roots, and their scent is delightful. They are also well maintained. This was completely unexpected; in fact, it's more akin to a startling turn of events!

"Why give it to me?" You asks, placing the boquet on the floor. "I don't... I.."

"You deserves it," Levi says pocketing his hands as he looks at his boots. This is is now or never, "Is because I like you."

You were absolutely shocked! You felt the time was frozen in place upon hearing what he just said. You have to make sure this is true, not some sick joke.

"I'm sorry repeat that?"

Levi gave a tch sound, his brows twitch as his face redden deeply. Oh Lord, are you deaf? It felt like torture to say it again, "I like you, brat. Have you not heard it the first time I'd said it?"

Silence fell. Your lack of response made Levi feel nauseous. He was mentally cursing himself from the inside out while you stood there in a state of dumbfoundedness. He shouldn't have spoken or done these things because he felt worse right now. Fortunately, he has a window in his office, so he can jump out of it and leave if things go badly or simply leave his office without speaking to you.

No, that would be rude.

Finally after a while, Levi's face washed up in relief and glint of happiness from his silver eyes: "I like you too."

You felt lighter and as though a load had been lifted when you uttered that. You were so joyful that you thought you were in heaven. You like him, and he likes you too.

"Since when?" You asks.

"Since the day I have my eyes on you."

Oh, you two were on the same boat.

"Same here."

Levi smiled warmly at you, and you thought you had won the lottery because it was the first time he had ever smiled, much less for you and you alone.

You were the luckiest person alive, and thank the walls you have crushed on Levi; if not, then this poor man will go to shambles. Who doesn't want to have a crush on Levi?

As Levi took your hand in his, he entwined his fingers and pressed his lips to your knuckles, sealing the two of you together.

"Then we can get marry after?" Levi looks at you with his warm, soften eyes.

Thank to the wall again!

You wheeze, kissing his knuckles as well. "It's too soon, Levi. Once the titan dissapeared from this world, then we'll get married."

And Levi never felt more happier from that.

-----

You can find them on ao3

Happy readings!!

[kujiba]

★MAY THE LAND CONCEAL YOU, DEAR GRACE

PART ONE/ PART TWO / PART FOUR / PART FIVE / PART SIX

୨୧ — ꒰ gn!reader | they/them prounouns | Sagau | cultish behavior

୨୧ — ꒰ a/n: yay! We're finally getting into the very first arc. I might start a new series but eh, who knows. Anyway enjoy reading

୨୧ — ꒰[Tags] @resident-cryptid

YOUR EYES COULDN'T BELIEVE IT - delicate and soft footsteps walked in the cobble flooring of the prestige city; (e/c) eyes glimmer around the stalls and towering buildings. Mondstadt definitely lives up to its titled name as the land of freedom, for every step you take, every second that passes by is surely not a quiet one infact.

One of your destined dreams turning into real life felt like bliss - you couldn't help but feel ecstatic on what the future lies ahead for you in the unordinary situation you find yourself in.

Yet.. Even for such a joyful moment, why do you feel entrapped and suffocated? You could feel eyes digging deep onto your back as it only doubled to your discomfort. You weren't supposed to feel like this, you're living your dream yet what is with this abnormal reaction? Paranoid with yourself, you quickly fled to a nearby alleyway to arrange your thoughts.

In there, you took control of your breathing, the surroundings around you begun to turn disoriented. You shook your head in disagreement "No...I must just be having a headache from the crowds" you mumbled to yourself, rubbing the sides of your head - you then continued your way in the city of Mondstadt after having calmed your thoughts and body down.

╔══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══╗

Later on, you found yourself sitting down on one of the chairs in a food hub called "Good Hunter". You were well aware of what this place is - infact, you felt like you've done this thousands of times even if you just played through a screen.

You didn't quite expect that feeling of yours earlier, expectations didn't reach what you had thought would lead to. You were supposed to be happily strolling around mondstadt - so why are you just sitting here rearranging your thoughts again? "Agh...I'll just sit here for a bit, yeah that's alright.." Mumbling those words to yourself, you took a deep breath to calm your body down.

Eventually after about 10 minutes of sitting, you heard a small grumble from your stomach. 'Ah right, Im starving..' you suppress to yourself; sure you ate some (alot) sunsettia's earlier but that didn't seem to satisfy your stomach. Fortunately for you, the place you were resting at was a food hub!. Standing up from your seat, you made your way up to the counter to order some cuisine for that grumbling tummy of yours.

"Welcome To Good Hunter. Can I take your order?" A brunette lady with a neatly tied up ponytail on the other side of the counter question's. Her eye's lingered on the out line's of your body, taking in every detail and curve. "Uh....can I have uh.." Your voice trailed off, thinking of something to order from the menu. Until, you remembered one thing you'd always cook for your character's in game. "May I have one Sweet Madame please?" You asked, giving her a small smile.

The woman was dazed for a moment after you gave her a smile, seemingly gawking into your (e/c) pupils. It took a while till you cleared your throat "Ahem.. Is everything alright?" You questioned her, still keeping your smile but had a hint of concern.

"Oh! Uhm yes, one Sweet Madame. Please sit while I prepare your food" She hastily replied, quickly turning around she returned back to the counter furthermore fumbling around with some seasonings and kitchen knives.

You sat back down on your chair briefly leaning back on it whilst patiently awaiting for your food to arrive, your mouth just watered at the thought of eating it. And boy are you excited! Tasting many wonderful foods from your favorite games is just wonderful! A dream you wish to never leave this place...Until a realization hitted you like a truck.

You have no money here. Absolutely 0

A previous dream turned into a Nightmare; patting your pockets repeatedly you began to panic internally, you can't just take the food and dip! Well you actually can, but you definitely can't handle the consequences of it! No way you're going to already have a horrible situation just after you stepped inside the city.

So how the hell are you gonna pay without any mora!? The gods or whoever brought you here CLEARLY didn't gift you with any starter materials. You cursed In your head, thinking of ways to legally get out of the situation you were in. "Shit what do I do?! I can't just go 'oh I don't have any money because I'm from a different world and got transferred here. Heck no!" Your eyes scanned the surrounding area, looking for an idea or way to not make the situation any more complicated.

╔══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══╗

A Honey-roasted fowl sat on your wooden table. The honey and sweet flowers come together to compliment the tender fowl meat. It's aroma as delicate and delicious as it looks. As of in the game it can restore 22% of Max HP and an additional 1,200 HP to the selected character.

A brunette maid stood by your side, a bill on her hands. Her expression looked rather concerned about you "Uhm.. Are you alright?" She asked examining your face. All that showed on you was defeat, like you've just got jumped by the opps.

"Well.. Aha.. So it might seem crazy what i'm gonna say.." You nervously chuckled, not making eye contact with the brunette and only facing the ground. Your eyes failed to notice another brunette woman walking to your table, her appearance seems similar to somebody you've previously met just moments ago..

"Heya! Mind if I sit down with you?" She politely asked, soon noticing the maid next to you she smiled slowly "I got it cover boss, I'll have one Sweet Madame too please." the brunette then took some mora from her pocket and gave it to the server, pleased by the girls payment she returned back to her stall to make another sweet madame.

Silence crept around both of you; you of course knew who she was but was to afraid to strike up a conversation. "Oh damn... What should I do?.." you pondered, avoiding any necessary eye contact with the brunnete. For her, she seemed to be doing the exact opposite of you. Her hazel pupils gazed upon parts of your physique; She seemed to be admiring your frame which made it furthermore awkward.

Clearing your throat, the brunette immediately got back into reality and looked back at you with her eyes. You gave her a small smile "Uhm well, Thank you for paying for me miss.." "AMBER." She replied back, a bit delighted to tell you her name "It's really nothing. You seem to be passing by?" she question's, you answer by giving her a nod.

"Why yes, Mondstat is one of my dream places to visit" You weren't technically lying to her, outside the screen. You did want to try and live in mondstat, just imagining it felt like paradise for you.

Amber seemed ecstatic when you mentioned how mondstadt is your dream places to visit "Why don't I give you a tour later then (Name)?" She offered to you, you were mentally so happy she offered it to you. So without hesitating you answered in a heart beat "Of course!"

Wait. Did you ever give her your name? You probably did. You just forgot

╔══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══╗

The world happiness couldn't even describe what you were feeling right now, by your side was THE Outrider Amber of genshin impact showing you around the city. The buildings were alot taller than you had thought, but the best part was being able to see the statue of Barbatos! You felt like you were going to pass out on how unreal it felt!

But alas the tour was coming to an end. Fortunately, Amber had suggested for you to go visit the KNIGHTS OF FAVONIUS; An order responsible for protecting Mondstadt and its belief of freedom. You were of course, very cheerful by her offer! So here were the two of you. Standing in the doors of the KNIGHTS OF FAVONIUS.

"Woah.. Is it really okay for a normal person like me inside here?" you questioned her, eyes gazing at the gigantic bronze door infront of you. Amber opened her mouth to giggle "Why of course! Everyone is welcome here. Come, I'll show you inside! " Quickly opening the two doors, the inside of the building was even finer than what you've had imagined.

Polished tiles surrounded the flooring, complimenting the small plants placed upon the sides of the doors for a more appealing and modern look. Trained knights standing firm and straight with a neutral expression on their face. Still, you could vaguely see them attempting to try and catch a glimpse of you, occasionally turning their eyes to take a better view of your appearance. You did not mind one bit, since you've understood that they just might be analyzing you if you are a possible threat.

"Come! I'll show you inside one of the rooms!" Amber ushered, taking your wrist gently with one of her hands and leading you to a door. Thrusting the doors open, the surrounding room were packed with layers and layers of books, seemingly to be endless opportunities of knowledge and experience.

As you began to look over the room, your (e/c) eyes laid upon a fairly tall woman with lime green eyes and long light brown tied in a side ponytail by a hair tie with a blue rose. Her outfit is largely many shades of purple. Just by the sight of her you could tell who she was already; LISA is a librarian who works in this library, and one of the few characters you achieve for free for unlocking more experience and leveling up in the game.

Her forest green eyes gazed around the room and stopped when she had spotted you, her expression seemed to be of slight suprise but nonetheless, she composed herself and began walking up to the two with her signature smile

"Why hello there cuties, what brings you here?" She question's, stopping in her tracks following with crossing her arms around her lower chest

Amber smiled gleefully, still taking a hold of your wrist with her hand and replying to Lisa "They're a passing traveler who wanted to adventure into the city! I offered to give them a tour and they gladly accepted!" Her answer holds alot of excitement and happiness.. So much so that she's gripping onto your wrist very tightly.

You soon grew uncomfortable by her grip on your wrist, but didn't want to ruin the two women's mood and vibe, so you kept it to yourself for now. It must be because she's exceedingly happy right?

Lisa lightly laughed at the brunettes excitement "Now, now.." She took hold of Amber's hand that was holding onto your wrist and pulled it apart, her eyes not breaking eye contact with Amber "Why don't you calm yourself down, Amber?" She says giving a closed eyed smile. Amber immediately realized her actions and turned to you "...Sorry, haha. I guess i let my emotions get the better of me, I promise you I won't let it happen again" Her previous dissapointed expression shifted to one that looked more relaxed.

"Oh! Right, you must not know her right?" Amber pointed her thumb to Lisa who was standing infront of the two, her smile still plastered on her face, she cleared out her throat "Don't worry, I'll introduce myself to this cutie..my name is Lisa Minci, the librarian of the knights of favonius, I hope we get along very well." her smile was off putting at first but you brushed it off.

"Nice to meet you Ms. Lisa! My name is (Name), I'll be very happy with my time in mondstat" You extended your hand to give Lisa a handshake, to your suprise Lisa without hesitating also took your hand for a handshake. Her eyes focused on the base of your hand whilst Amber stared at you two.

You laughed awkwardly. you and Lisa shaked hands a few times before parting ways for now, you felt an ominous aura behind you once you turned your back to leave the library. You for sure wasn't going back in there for a bit.

As the two of you walked in the halls of the Knights of favonius guild, Amber stopped infront of a door. "How about we go ahead and meet the grandmaster, Jean?" She said still having a gleeful energy. You nodded, seeing no harm in meeting her. The plot won't magically change right? In here your just an NPC and the main side characters always interact with NPC's and go on with their day. Nothing can go wrong, right?.

Amber opened the doors, a small creeking sound as it slowly began to open up. Inside the room where stacked with shelves of books, in there, the back center of the room had a women in blonde dressed formal sitting down on a chair with a fairly sized table. The table had stacks and stacks of papers seemingly to be endless.

Only when amber cleared her throat did the blonde notice the two people standing near the door, she quickly composed herself and looked directly at amber, you've noticed how the blonde has not even noticed you in the room yet (you're standing right besides amber wtf).

"Good morning to you, Amber. What brings you here?" The blonde woman asked, sitting upright on her chair while awaiting the brunettes answer "Good to see you, Acting Grandmaster JEAN!" Amber replied casually, "Meet (Name)!, they' were just passing by. We sure do get loads of visitors after the Traveler(AETHER) had left to go to Liyue huh?" The brunette smiled brightly, her hand infront of you faced flat.

Jean, if not for amber she would have never even noticed your presence in the room. You on the other hand had something else in mind, 'I wonder which traveler is the one they're talking about... I'm fine with either one of the twins'

You collectively thought to yourself, a smile on your face as you could barely wait! Just meeting the MC makes your stomach get butterflies. Jean seemed to be staring at you for quite a bit, but you had not noticed once since you were daydreaming in your head.

Jean cleared her throat which made you immediately snap back to reality, raising your head slightly you made eye contact with her ocean blue pupils, she didn't look like she was going to take her eyes off you anytime soon...

".. (Name), was it?" Jean asked, leaning on her desk. Without hesitating you nodded your head "Yes, that's me.. Is there anything you want to ask?" You asked her in an awkward tone, the vibe in the room had shifted significantly. You didn't like it one bit.

She locked her eyes onto yours and smiled "No... But let me ask you one thing" The blonde stood up from her seat and slowly walked in front of her table "Where did you come from exactly?" She asked, crossing her arms on her chest. Amber also was curious to know, her hazel eyes looking at you with curiosity.. But to you, it felt like two predators were piercing their eyes onto your every limb, you felt awkward, confused, and most off all. ANXIOUS

Just one word, one word that's even remotely suspicious and it's game over for you. But why did you feel panicked and anxious? The Traveler was also a other worlder, the characters stared at him/her with adoration and kindness. Why is it the opposite for you?

A feeling wrecked your inner self, INSTINCT. Instinct told you the moment you accidentally reveal your situation is the moment your doom will begin to tower over your shadow, devouring you whole for the mistake you had made. And only then, will you escape from the pain you've brought upon yourself.

"I.. I came from.." You were lost for words, you could just tell them you lived in liyue, sumeru, Fontaine or any other region in Teyvat. So why do they stare at you with such hostile and loathing looks? You gulped down your saliva and clutched your other wrist with your hand "I traveled here from liyue.. I like to visit other regions and find more of their culture and traditions"

Your voice sounded awkward, but it was the only words you could spew out in the moment. You could still feel their gaze observing your every move and twitch, they never took their eyes off you for a long while.

As silence filled the room, Jean and Amber looked at each other for a couples of seconds and nodded, Jeans gaze on you began to soften up "I see, well then. I welcome you to mondstadt, we will be more than happy to have you here" Jean casually said having her hand on her hip as amber gleefully clapped her hands.

"Welcome To mondstadt! I'll be sure to show you only the best." Amber talked to you with such excitement and happiness. You couldn't process what was happening, since the mood had shifted to normal again. You were only relieved to have your body and mind at peace again....

! ! !

INSTINCT is an inborn impulse or motivation to action typically performed in response to specific external stimulus, ADRENALINE is a hormone secreted by the adrenal glands, especially in conditions of stress, increasing rates of blood circulation, breathing, and carbohydrate metabolism and preparing muscles for exertion.

Two things a human body does when faced with a threat around their surroundings, the human body will begin to feel such things. You felt your body beginning to rush as your heart beat began to slowly get faster, something was definitely behind you.

You turned your head quickly, but only saw a pair of black gloves reaching out to grab your face, and before you know it, you were out on the floor. Your vision began to darken at a fast pace, as all you could only do is lay motionless on the cherry colored carpet.

Two silhouettes towered over you whilst you were on the ground, holding your arms and legs, they began to drag your body on the hard ground.

☆☆☆

(e/c) eyes slowly began fluttering open, your pupils beginning to open once again. "Ugh... Where am I.." you groaned. Your head was throbbing like crazy, giving you migraines that just added more into the pain. Your hand trailed up to the sides of your head and began to slowly massage it to ease up the aching.

After some seconds, you had fully composed your body. The room you were in was more darker and you could barely even tell what was in your surrounding areas, only feeling the cold flooring from below you.

You attempt to try and recall what had happened but it only furthered increase the aching. You could only sigh to yourself and lean your body back on the wall, in the room you were stuck in 'So this is how I'll be spending my time. Stuck in a dark and cold room, great. ' you thought to yourself, hugging your knees closer to your chest and body to be able to create warmth.

"Just my luck.. When things were just going great another misfortune happened" talking to yourself was the only thing keeping you entertained for now, as you begin to spiral deeper into your thoughts you started to wonder, Why did I get transported here?

In your life at earth you didn't make any shocking changes to the world like making cures or any of that. You were just some person who liked to play games...

Wait

Surely enough the gods or whoever transmitted you here would be benevolent enough to gift you some kind of system or powers right? If this was not just a coincidence you might as well treat your situation like a manwha.

Clearing your throat you quietly mumbled 'System'.....And to no suprise nothing worked. "Uhh... Abrakadabra? Arise? Info?" you tried words that could possibly trigger that non existing system that you are hanging on for dear life. Maybe because of the silence around you that makes you start to go delusional and crazy.

Countless tries yet none were working (Obviously) "Man.. I knew I should've eaten more food, I'm starting to go crazy at this point.. Seriously miss the noise around. It just seems like something had turned off the sound in settings"

You groggily lowered your head down accompanying with silent murmurs coming from your mouth. Unbeknownst to you, a glowing blue screen began appearing infront of you, as you began to lift your head your (e/c) eyes began to shrink from shock as a text was plastered right in front of you.

CHOOSE AN ELEMENT! : PYRO, CRYO, DENDRO, ELECTRO, HYDRO, GEO, ANEMO

"WAIT WHAT!?"

A/n: very sorry for the delay and how late the chapter is. Advance apologies if the chapter did not meet your expectations. School is a pain and taking most of my time.

Nonetheless Hope you enjoyed, please let me know if you want to get tagged in the next chapters.

[clownmcgown]

UGGH I ADORE THE WAY YOU DRAW THE DCA SO MUCH THEYRE SO SQUISHABLE!!!! idk if you've done this already but aggrhrhga i wanna see some trans yn w the dca..... ignore if you want its a-ok!!!!! 🫶

- 🌀

WAHHHH THANK YOU!!!!!! I DO NOT THINK I HAVE DONE SOMETHING SURROUNDING A TRANS Y/N, SO HERE YOU GO!!!

[1bisschenmelancholie]

Could you write smth with a non binary reader?

hi anon!! hoping this turned out okay <3 i haven’t written an x non binary reader in quite some time, so if you’d like any changes i’d be happy to make them for you :)

Balcony Rules Don’t Apply

✮⋆˙ emily prentiss x non binary reader

you slip out onto the balcony to breathe—tired of the noise, the assumptions, the edges that never quite fit. you don’t expect emily to follow. you definitely don’t expect her to stay. but she does. and in the quiet, something shifts—something that’s been building between you in silence for too long.

✮⋆˙ disclaimers and possible tws: mild gender dysphoria mention (brief and resolved), emotional vulnerability, slow romantic tension

The party was too loud.

Not in volume—though the music was insistent—but in how it filled the space. Every room seemed too crowded, every conversation somehow too fast or too slow. You weren’t sure who half these people were. You’d come for the team, maybe for the free champagne, but mostly because Emily had asked if you were going.

You hadn’t said no.

But you were already regretting the borrowed blazer, the way someone had called you miss at the door, the too-tight shoes meant to match an outfit that wasn’t really you. The usual effort. Never quite enough to feel seen. Always just enough to feel misread.

Now, an hour in, you were standing in the corner of someone’s upscale apartment, sipping something flat and warm, wondering how long you had to stay before leaving wouldn’t seem pointed.

So you slipped out onto the balcony.

The city looked better from here—less polished, more distant. The air was cold but clean. Streetlights flickered orange on wet pavement below. You leaned against the railing, exhaling, finally alone.

"You always vanish like that?"

You turned.

Emily stood just behind the glass door, her silhouette outlined by the interior light. A half-empty glass dangled from her hand. Her shoes were off. She looked like she’d been holding herself upright all evening.

"I wasn’t vanishing," you said. "I was decompressing."

She smiled and stepped outside, pulling the door shut behind her with a quiet click.

"Fair enough." She joined you at the railing, shoulder brushing yours for a beat longer than necessary before she turned her gaze to the skyline. "You don’t like parties?"

You shrugged. "They’re fine in theory. It’s the performance that’s exhausting."

Emily let out a soft laugh. "That makes two of us."

You looked at her sideways. "Didn’t think you’d be the type to get overwhelmed."

"Oh, I am," she said, swirling the contents of her glass. "I just hide it better."

There was a beat of silence—comfortable, not awkward. You let yourself breathe in the scent of cold air and distant rain. Emily’s perfume lingered in the space between you: clean, subtle, like something deliberately chosen to be forgettable and yet—

Unshakable.

You glanced over again, slower this time.

She wasn’t looking at the skyline anymore.

Her eyes were on you.

"What?" you asked, heat creeping into your neck.

"Nothing." A pause. "Just… you seem different tonight."

You raised an eyebrow. "Different how?"

She hesitated. Then: "I think I’ve spent so long fitting you into the box of who I thought you were, I didn’t notice you didn’t quite belong there."

You blinked. "That sounds vaguely like a compliment."

"It was meant to be."

You turned to face her, heart knocking once, then twice, a little too loud.

"Then maybe you don’t know me as well as you think."

Emily tilted her head. The corners of her mouth twitched—not quite a smirk. "Maybe I’d like to."

Your breath caught.

For a moment, neither of you moved. The party kept murmuring behind the glass, muffled like background static. But out here, everything felt sharpened—eyes, air, awareness.

"Is that why you followed me out here?" you asked.

"I followed you," Emily said, "because I was afraid you’d leave before I had the chance to say something I didn’t know how to say."

You swallowed. "And now?"

"Now I’m saying it."

Her voice had dropped an octave. Not seductive—just sincere.

You shifted closer, unsure if it was the cold or something else that made your skin feel electric.

"I don’t bite," she said, almost amused by the tension sparking between you.

You laughed once, quiet. "But you do deflect."

"I’m working on it."

You let that sit between you. Then nodded toward the skyline.

"Not a bad place for confessions."

Emily turned slightly, her shoulder brushing yours again, but this time she didn’t pull away.

"No," she said. "Not bad at all."

The pause that followed felt charged. Open. Like something had been set down carefully between you—an invitation, not a trap.

"I like you," she said quietly. "In case I’ve been too careful for you to notice."

You smiled, but didn’t look at her. "I noticed."

She nudged your elbow with hers. "And?"

You turned then, fully, so the balcony light cast soft shadows across her face.

"And I think you’re better when you stop trying to say everything perfectly."

Emily blinked.

Then—like the tension had been holding her breath—she smiled. Honest and uneven.

And didn’t say another word.

You stayed there, side by side, as the city buzzed beneath you. Not quite touching. Not quite needing to.

Something had changed.

Not loudly.

But enough.

Emily didn’t move right away. Her breath was still brushing yours, her lips parted like she hadn’t realized just how close she’d leaned in.

And that’s when Garcia’s voice floated in from behind the doorframe like a bubble waiting to pop:

"Hey—have either of you seen our favorite chaos enby? Oh. Ohhh."

You both turned — slowly, guiltily, like teenagers caught in a closet.

Garcia stood in the doorway, pink glasses slightly askew, a plate of cupcakes in one hand and mischief blooming on her face like it was her job. (Which, in a way, it was.)

"I was gonna offer sugar," she said, eyes darting between you and Emily, "but it looks like you two are already swimming in it."

Emily stepped back an inch. You cleared your throat.

Garcia softened. "You okay out here, starshine?"

You nodded. "Better now."

Garcia winked. "Good. You deserve that. For what it’s worth, that blazer is P-E-R-F-E-C-T."

You rolled your eyes, but smiled.

Then she lifted the plate in offering. "Cupcake? They’re chaos-themed. Like you."

You took one — just to make her go away faster. Emily did the same, though her hand brushed yours in the exchange and lingered a second too long.

Garcia looked over to Emily. “Keep them safe.” She gave you both one last sly grin before vanishing, her footsteps disappearing back into the sound and swirl of the party.

Silence returned — but it wasn’t the same as before.

You looked at Emily.

She looked at you.

And that gravity — the one you’d both stepped into out here — pulled tighter.

This time, when you kissed her, it didn’t feel like an accident.

It felt overdue.

[divinelolita]

first kiss with the band headcannons <3

gender neutral reader‼️

---

BILL:

・You may have confessed feelings for him before you leaned in or you may have done it without warning

・Unless y'all r already dating

・He would be so flustered either way bro 😪😪

・After you pull away he'd blink a few times as he stared at you.

・Cheeks flush bright red

・Like -bro becomes a tomato..

・Takes a second before he leans back in to kiss you, this time having a hand on your cheek or neck.

・He doesn't use tounge on the first kiss bro...

・Lightly tugging his hair while you kiss him makes him MELT

・Wraps his arms around your neck 🤭

・If you did like him he'd ask if you guys are dating now

・you better say yes.

TOM:

・If your in the middle of confessing to him he'd just kiss you

・He likes to speed things up, man. You signed up for this when you caught feelings!

・travels his hands to your waist as he kisses you.

・Doesn't care where you place your hands, but either on his neck or hips are good ideas.

・He'd try to act confident and unbothered but really he's screaming and dying of nervousness inside.

・He's the type of guy to bite your bottom lip/swipe his tounge against your lips asking for entrance (ew)

・Kisses down to your neck, nipping at the sensitive skin.

・You most likely wouldn't date yet

・He had to process how he felt during the kiss and how much he actually liked you, probably would bring it up a few days later.

GEORG:

・Freezes when you kiss him.

・Has to process your ACTUALLY kissing him

"shit what's going on? OH I'M BEING KISSED-"

・Takes a second before he kisses back, laying his hand on your thigh.

・He pulls away after a minute, asking you wtf your doing and if you even like him

・Maybe your drunk he doesn't know 🤷🏻

・After you confess he takes another minute to process this information.

HE THINKS ALOT DON'T JUDGE HIM😡

・Smiles/laughs softly as he leans back in to peck your lips again.

・Keeps his hands on your thighs/hips.

・Guides your hands to wrap around him as he scootches closer.

・Leaves a few kisses on your jaw if he gets more comfortable.

GUSTAV:

・He thinks you got dared to kiss him.

・Self esteem isn't that high

same gustav

・He backs up slightly when you lean in, about to ask what your doing.

・When you ignore him and continue to lean in and then kiss him, he feels himself get less tense yet his stomach feels like knots are tying.

・The kiss lasts for like 5 seconds and then he pulls away

"Do you even like me?"

・Thinks it's all one big prank, led on by maybe Tom.

・If you tell him you really do like him, and you are sincere, he'd give a small smile and giggle before leaning back in.

・Please wrap your arms around him.

・Like Bill he'd ask what you guys are gonna do

・If you suggest friends w benefits he's leaving you 💀

[yurislotusgarden]

My daily 50 kisses

ʚїɞ Dazai Osamu x Reader

ʚїɞ Keep in mind English is not my first language, so there may be mistakes!

ʚїɞ First x reader work

ʚїɞ word count: 208

ʚїɞ Tw's: None! Just pure fluff with soft Dazai, Dazai calls himself your future husband once, reader's gender is not specified in any way, the reader is implied to be at least slightly shorter than Dazai

34, 35, 36, 3- oh?

36 is the exact number of how many kisses Dazai got on the face. He counted, and mind you, it was too little. 

“Why’d you stopped?” Came the question from the brunette, his arms tightening around your waist. Your hands were on his cheeks, he was enjoying the feeling thank you very much.

“Didn’t you have enough by now?”

“Nope! Your handsome boyfriend demands more kisses!” At that, the taller figure gets closer to your face.

“What if I say no?” A chuckle from you, an amused one. Dazai’s always like this when you give what he decides, is too little affection.

“You see, there’s no ‘no’ option. You simply have to agree”

“I would disagree” It was hard not to smile in this situation, seeing your significant other so openly wanting affection from you never fails to warm your heart.

“And I disagree with your disagreement. Your future husband is demanding his 50 daily kisses, and he won’t fail at getting them” You don’t fail on slightly blushing at what he called himself - just what he wanted to see.

“Your daily 50 kisses? That’s the first time I hear of such a  rule”

“Hm, you heard right. My daily 50 kisses”

Notes, comments, reblogs and anything else is greatly appreciated

[mydearyanderes]

yan hypno therapist with non binary darling?

Darling wants to remove their nightmares

Divider credit: @uzmacchiato

Word count: 497

Tags: Obsession, stalking, kidnapping, hypnotism, non binary reader, non binary yandere

The moment the hypnotherapist first lays eyes on you, it’s over. Love at first sight. Obsession before the first hello. They watch you, especially at night, as you toss and turn in suffering. Perhaps you suffer because of them. Because you must feel their eyes burrowing into you, night after night. They don't know, nor do they care, but they know they have to help you. They set up fliers all around your small town for their business, coincidentally right in front of your house as well. They see you taking the fliers. They see you pondering. They see you walking towards their business. Their heart beats with excitement, fingers twitching to... help.

You sit across from the hypnotherapist in their cramped office, the air thick with something unspoken. They ask, their voice cold yet caring at the same time, "What seems to be bothering you, darling?" The use of the pet name sends a shiver up your spine. It's too close for a compete stranger to be calling you it. You sigh, your tensed body seeming to finally relax. You tell them about your constant nightmares—horrid dreams of being chased like a wild animal and cast into a cage. Nightmares of violence. Of stalking. Of twisted love. They hum as they listen to you, jotting down notes of everything you say in exquisite detail. You don't know it, but their heart pounds in ecstasy. Just being near you is almost unbearable—so much it hurts.

Of course, they hide it well behind a mask. They bring out a pendulum. They speak low, calm, "You're getting very sleepy." With each swing of the pendulum you feel your body sinking deeper and deeper into the couch as it gets harder and harder to keep your eyes open. "On the count of three, you will fall asleep." You nod slowly, your mind slowly drifting away. "One..." Your body gets heavier "Two..." Your mind gets sleepier "Three!" And like that you're out like a light. A soft, breathless giggle escapes them—giddy, unhinged. They step closer, drinking in the sight of your helpless, vulnerable form. They've seen you sleep before, of course, but never this close. It fills their body with heat. They crawl on top of your body. "Oh, my love…" Their fingers trace your cheek, reverent, possessive. "You're simply… breathtaking."

They cling your unmoving body closer to them. Their breaths grow ragged, trembling with emotion. They lean in even closer, whispering in your ear, "No more nightmares, my love. Not as long as I'm here to keep you safe…" They take in your scent, breathing in deeply, before finally lifting you in their arms. They press a delicate kiss to your forehead, lingering as if savoring the moment before walking off into their car. "You'll never fear anything again," they whisper. Cradling you protectively, they settle you into the car, whispering reassurances all the while. As the engine hums to life, the road stretches ahead—leading you somewhere only they decide.

A/N: I love this ask!! Also, you didn't specify the yans gender so I made them non binary as well :D

[solannn]

─── ꒰𝐌𝓐STERLIST꒱

─── ꒰𝐌𝓐STERLIST꒱

🕊️┆ anime & original oc

─ORIGINAL CHARACTER

coming soon

─── 𝓐NIMES

Blue lock;

Bachira Meguru ;

jealousy

which, your boyfriend is jealous of your friend and punish you !! Male reader, male anatomy, smut, jealous! Bachira.

NAGI SEISHIRO ;

Lazy sex ;

in which, in the morning nagi felt quite arosed and desiring, watching his s/o sleep. Male!reader, fem & minor dni, morning sex, lazy nagi as always. anon request, aged up! Nagi, smut, rushed !!

MICHAEL KAISER ;

Heated argument

Which a heated argument lead to a rough sex , nsfw, what blabla

BSD ;

╰┈➤ PORT MAFIA ;

chuuya nakahara ;

A wild night

after a hard day for both you, you prepare dinner and the reader get himself to drunk and horny. Blow job, riding, anatomy isn’t mentioned I think.

BSD MEN ;

I love you ; Chuuya, Dazai, Fyodor

bsd men ; what’s their fav things to do with their lover ? gn reader, might be hinted male. Established relationship, can be imagine as bf or husband.

PUELLA MAGI ; Chuuya, Dazai

which Chuuya, Dazai with someone who’s like mami tomoe & kyouko sakura from puella magi. headcanon, gn reader, ooc for chuuya and non-consistency. Hints of male ( ? )

JJK ;

╰┈➤ CURSE.

Sukuna, THE KING OF CURSES.

(S)creaming

unfinished work.(might finish one day) Which sukuna recognize you, his beloved lover and can help himself but to fuck you dumb.

Black clover ;

Yami Sukehiro ;

Flirt

( Which, behind your shy and quiet demeanor hides a horny one. ) Yami flirts with you, his flirt was horny but you answered him, with a hornier one.

KNY;

╰┈➤ Hashira;

Rengoku ;

Male wife

which rengoku can’t help himself from fucking his husband when he saw him making their bed. Smut, minor dni

LOVEFOOL

which you saved rengoku kyojuro from a the third uppermoon, akaza. he doesn’t know how to thank you, so he spend time with you as a thanks, male reader

TGFC/HOB ;

hua cheng/ sang lan ;

MY DEAR SUNSHINE

Which Hua cheng, is smitten for you. He wants to give you hairpins but he’s to anxious to give you. Male reader fluff, smitten!Hua cheng

THE ECLIPSE TO MY MOON

"hua cheng with a reader who resembles more of the moon? Like they're more mellow and quiet but occasionally very energetic "

TOKYO REV ;

B O N T E N ;

MIKEY ;

SEXY BUNNY

Which Mikey goes to a club and a sexy bunny get his attention. He can’t resist, he wants you has his personnal dancer.

DEAR SINGLE FATHER

Idk what to say here, the reader is a single father and like works at bar and mikey comes in blablabla

T O M A N ;

MANJIRO SANO ; ALIAS, MIKEY.

My rockstar, [NAME]

which, the reader is rockstar and mikey’s secret boyfriend !! Male!reader, establish relationship.

Bleach ;

nothing’s here…

[kujiba]

♬Genshin characters as your deliverer

彡| ft. Arlecchino, Navia, Razor, Bennet, Shenhe, Itto

A/n: i made this at 12 am. Dunno what possesed me tbh

[notsodelirious]

Heyyyyyyy, it’s me, 🍊anon!

I was wondering if you could write about GN! Reader coming out as Non-Binary to Wally West?

hi! yes absolutely, hope you enjoy it!

synopsis: You come out to Wally (says it on the tin really)

notes: SFW and nothing else, it’s just a fluffy piece

tags: established relationship, coming out, non binary!reader, wc: 1.4k

(I did write this with an afab reader in mind but there’s no gender markers + it’s really just because of a headcanon—more in the a/n)

•─────⋅☾⊱♰⊰☽⋅─────•

“Baby, I need to talk to you,” you had said.

Almost 2 hours ago now.

Wally had nodded in understanding, kissed you on the cheek and had promised that he just had to run this one errand for his Aunt Iris and then he’d be all yours.

And then one errand turned into three.

“Sorry, I have to give this paper to my lab partner—the submission is next week.”

“One last time, I promise—I forgot to give Bats his mission report and he’s gonna be pissed.”

“Roy asked me to take care of Lian’s goldfish and I totally forgot, just give me five more minutes.”

It was a little astounding how long the fastest man alive could take sometimes. But you waited for him, occupying yourself as you waited, shooing him off with reassurances every time he ran back into your apartment with a new excuse.

Letting yourself sit and stew in your nausea and anxiety instead.

You were sat at the dinner table, with your legs crisscross on the chair, chewing on a pencil as you looked down at your sudoku when he skidded to a stop again. You didn’t look up until after the sheets had fallen and the dust had settled.

“Sorry!”

You smiled, scrunching your nose as Wally grabbed your face to pepper your skin with kisses, planting a fat one on your cheek.

“Sorry, I’m so sorry, I promise I’ll be right with you, there’s just a villain downtown and-”

Wally watched your face as he spoke, glancing between you and the door, still holding you gently. You weren’t exasperated, not in the slightest—you’d made peace with what it meant to date a superhero—a speedster at that. You knew he’d be busy and you were fine waiting.

You sat with a patient smile as you waited for him to finish his sentence.

He didn’t.

He kissed your forehead before dashing off again, leaving you to shrug and go back to your squares and numbers.

He was back not two minutes later and very much still in his civilian clothes.

“Well that was fast,” you teased as you rested your cheek against your fist, smiling at him as he took a seat in front of you. “Scared them off with your good looks and charm?”

“No,” he was more sheepish than you’d expected, watching as he scratched the back of his head before stretching his arms, “I uh- asked Barry to take care of it.”

“Why? Are you okay?” you frowned as you made to stand, already uncrossing your legs but Wally motioned you to stay seated.

You knew your worries were most definitely unfounded—even when Wally got injured, he was never really injured; accelerated healing would do that to a person.

But that was still your Wally—and you were nervous, and he was nervous, and it just made you that much more nervous.

“I’m fine, pinky promise,” he said as he gave you another awkward smile, “I just… the fight isn’t important, I don’t have to be there.”

“Okay?”

“And you wanted to talk to me.”

“Yeah.”

Wally wrung his hands together.

“And I’ve been keeping you waiting and you’ve been really patient with me and I just… yeah. I’m sorry.”

“Wally, it’s fine,” you flipped your book closed.

You sat in silence for a minute.

“Oh, you want me to spit it out.”

He nodded, “Yeah.”

You shrugged as you stood, moving over to make your way to the kitchen. It was a little too warm, too stuffy in the room, the sun hitting the windows just right to feel as if you were suddenly in the worst gas oven ever.

“I don’t wanna say it now.”

“Wha- babe!”

He followed you to the kitchen as he watched you fill the kettle and flick it on. The vibrant green tiles of the kitchen splash board reflected on his pale skin, made him an almost sickly lime.

“Come on, it can’t be that bad, right?” he said, “And I mean even if it is bad-“

“It’s not *bad*,” you tugged your sleeve, “I just… I’m here now and I don’t want to say it to your face.”

Without prompting, Wally turned his back to you.

You snorted before falling into soft peels of laughter and wrapping your arms around his waist, rested your forehead against the nape of his neck.

He was so warm beneath your arms—a superhuman man but so soft and real to the touch, it sometimes made you dizzy trying to reconcile that they were both the same person.

“Better?” he said softly. You hummed as you splayed your hand across his chest, feeling his heart beat beneath your palm, his chest rising and falling with each breath.

You sighed.

“I’m non-binary.”

You felt his sharp inhale against your touch.

You squeezed him tighter, as if that would stop him from disappearing at a moment’s notice, as if he couldn’t if he wanted to.

“Wally?” you called softly, trying to pretend you weren’t on the brink of tears. “Say something?”

The silence probably didn’t last as long as you thought it did—but for a moment, the bubbling of the kettle quietened and your heart slowed to a stop.

You felt like sobbing and hiding away and throwing up at all once.

You did even halfway protest as Wally slowly pulled out of your arms to turn to you.

“I love you,” he said softly, “And I want you to be happy.”

Your heart sunk to your stomach.

“But?”

“There is no but,” he frowned as he cupped your face with both hands, making you look up at him. “That’s it. Point blank, period. i just- nobody’s ever come out to me. I don’t know what to say.”

You let out a wet chuckle as you leaned into his touch. The kettle switched off with a shy beep.

“I’ve never come out to anybody, so it’s a first for me too.”

“I’m the first person you’ve told?”

“Essentially, yeah.”

“Oh, I’m so proud of you,” he said softly as he gathered you into his arms, squeezing you tightly against his chest as you clutched his shirt in balled fists. “What now?”

“You gotta give me a sec; I still have to realise you haven’t broken up with me.”

“Why the fuck would I do that?” you chuckled softly at his outrage, not looking up from where you had buried your face against his neck even as he pulled back to stare down at you.

“Maybe you didn’t want to date a trans person.”

“That’s literally so stupid when the trans person is you.”

“Aww babe.”

“Also you know too much about me, you’re stuck with me now.”

“Oh, haha,” you rolled your eyes as you pulled away, flicking the kettle back on to reheat the water that had finished boiling ages ago. Wally brought down your mug before you could reach for it yourself, setting it down on the counter.

“Honestly though, where do you want to go from here?” he asked as he rubbed a hand along your shoulders, standing just out of the way enough to not bump into you as you made your tea.

“I dunno.”

“Wanna change your name?”

“Not right now.”

“Pronouns?”

“Not out to anybody else.”

“Wardrobe?”

“No, your clothes are just fine.”

He glared playfully and pinched your arm, moving on as you laughed.

“Hair?”

“I dunno—I’m due a trim though.”

“Can I start calling you ‘partner’ like a cowboy?”

You set the kettle down as you burst out laughing. You never could have imagined the warmth that spread in your chest as you sat with your boyfriend in that very moment in time.

You could have let the entirety of eternity go past, and have been content with life, knowing you had him by your side.

“You’re so fucking stupid,” you giggled softly as you poured milk into your tea.

“Well, I sure am, pardner,” he embraced you from behind, holding you tight against himself. You laughed harder as you shoved his face away, growing more amused by his offended squawk.

“Shut up.”

“Ah! This is cruel! This is abuse! My love!”

“You’ll live.”

You made to take a sip of your tea.

Just as Wally dramatically collapsed onto you.

“Oh I’m so wounded!”

“Wally, my tea!”

“Fuck! Sorry!”

(“I’ll make you another one.”

“I’ve seen you microwave water, don’t you dare.”)

•─────⋅☾⊱♰⊰☽⋅─────•

a/n: okay so the headcanon—i think Wally grew up in a conservative family, not like hyper evangelical but like, off-handed homophobia was common where he lived so nobody never really came out publicly, I also don’t think he realised that liking boys was an option until much later, which is why he says “Nobody’s ever come out to me before”, which is why in my mind the reader was afab; but obviously I kept it gender neutral because a person’s assigned gender at birth doesn’t fucking matter :3

thanks for reading <3 my requests are open as of today here’s my masterlist

[bunnyluvx]

texting your hsr girlfriend "i want a kiss"! ♡

featuring: kafka x gn!reader. seele x f/non-binary!reader.

summary: how would your hsr girlfriend react if you texted her saying you want a kiss?

warnings: seele sexuality discourse will be blocked. joking threats and death joke ("love me or i die" sort of thing). nothing else!

tags: smau?? | physical affection | pet names | fluff | reader likes to jokingly bully their gfs | seele curses???!!!!! and calls you a mean name for the funnies?! it's real folks!!!!! | lesbian seele | canon lesbian character

a/n: i had so much fun with my last post that i made more silly things!! i wanted to post some of the men too but since i upload the screenshots from mobile, tumblr said i had too many photos so i'm gonna make a part 2 which i will post tomorrow. hope you enjoy the ladies! <3

divider credit: @isisjupiter | hsr chat maker

@BUNNYLUVX ,, all rights reserved. do not copy/plagiarize any of my works or submit it into ai. any and all support is appreciated! <3

[morvantmortuary]

our strange duet --

(Maxi Morvant x Plus size!Non-binary!Reader, 18+)

summary: early in your relationship, Maxi has a hard time focusing on his embalming work after an evening with you. he finds relief, but he's not proud of how.

warnings: discussion of binders and body dysphoria; discussion of being queer in the small-town south; mentions of biphobia; demon possession (sorta); period sex/blood kink; oral (both enby and cis male receiving); light stalking; blatant voyeurism; discussions of fatal wounds and embalming process; penetration with toys; vaginismus/resistance kink, dead dove do not eat with all of this.

general: reader is non-binary and queer (bisexual, but they don't use that word specifically so fudge however). reader is fat/plus size/curvy whatever you want to call it. maxi uses fem-ish petnames for reader. any tweaks to make skin/hair more seamless are appreciated. no use of y/n, as always.

the nice thing about getting to go back and repost my old fics is not only that I get to revisit them, but also that I get to revamp them to match how I write now rather than how I wrote then. 🖤

for this one, my main focus was making Maxi's coming out moment more explicit, because I really thought he deserved it. I wanted it to get more time and emphasis compared to the first write-through, because I was worried the reader moved on kind of quickly in the last version, and I wanted to celebrate him a little. 🖤 I also thought it added to the jarring feeling of the Reaper in the back of his head, comparatively.

special shoutout to @darkhairedmenrule -- I saw your tags about how you missed Maxi, and that inspired me to post this one next. cheers to you, buddy 🖤

Maxi was pretty sure he shouldn’t be thinking of you on top of him last night while he was preparing to embalm the forty-something woman on his table. 

No, in fact, he was certain he shouldn’t. 

Despite the multiple layers of PPE he was wearing - his usual scrubs, gloves, and mask, and then a plastic splashguard over that - he still caught himself feeling oddly vulnerable in front of the decedent. 

He was used to empty, staring eyes, he’d been used to them for more than half his life. But something about Mrs. Berthelot-Yang’s hollow gaze today made him feel like he was the one with just a sheet for modesty’s sake, rather than the other way around. He kept dropping things, leaving them in his office or on the wrong counters, forgetting what he was doing in the middle of filling out paperwork - he couldn’t help but feel like he was fumbling in an entirely different sense, whereas last night couldn’t have felt easier.

But damn, if you didn’t seem to have him utterly bewitched, and you’d only been going out for a month.

Well, okay, three weeks, six days, thirteen hours, give or take fifteen minutes. …But who was counting, anyway? Certainly not him, nope.

There was something about you he was having a hard time putting his finger on, but since that kismet day in the cemetery, he’d found his mind wandering back to you at the most inexplicable moments. He couldn’t hear the afternoon rain pelting his windows without remembering your smile in the passenger seat of his hearse, giggling even when you were soaked. He couldn’t just lay on his couch in the grip of insomnia and watch a shitty horror movie without remembering your soft, clean scent when you were sitting next to him at the theater, and how he’d wondered if the cherry slush would’ve been any sweeter if he’d tasted it on your tongue.

And now, despite the purposeful chill of the prep room, he swore he could still felt the heat of your mostly-bare form pressed against his, when it had taken everything in him not to devour you on the spot.

He’d been careful with you. He’d been so goddamn achingly careful with you, wanting to take this slow. He wanted to make sure he took his time, didn’t scare you off, didn’t lose your interest before he got the chance to...

He blinked out of his trance when he realized he was still standing over Mrs. Berthelot-Yang with the trocar still in his hands, staring at her violently bruised and scraped bare abdomen. Motorcycle crash on the highway. Even with a helmet, she hadn’t been any match for the concrete barrier she’d swerved into in her attempt to move around a semi that had thrown on its brakes. The devastated wife was delivering her clothes tomorrow for her viewing this weekend.

“I’m so sorry, ma’am,” he sighed, shaking his head in exasperation and feeling himself blush. “I don’t know where my head’s at today, I swear.” That was a lie. He knew exactly where his head was at. 

He heard a ghostly chuckle from the very edge of the salt that bordered the edges of the room — not the sharp, cruel ones of some of the House’s permanent residents, but something soft. Almost knowing. He glanced up to see the faintest flicker of movement near the door, as though a figure had just poked their head in the room and pulled it quickly back out again.

There was sudden wafting of a warm, light scent of jasmine and vanilla… a perfume. Her favorite, her wife had told him through tears in the client parlor upstairs - and Maxi couldn’t help but smile a little to himself as he relaxed. It was always a relief to have an understanding guest of honor. 

Or, well, as much as they could be, under the circumstances.

“Thank you for bein’ patient with me,” he said, carefully lining up the sharp tip of the instrument with a spot just beside her navel. “Now, this is gonna look nasty, but I promise it’ll be all right again in just a sec—“

The tip slid through the soft flesh like butter, and he let the trocar do its work before carefully angling it again to perforate the other end of the cavity. With a couple more easy jabs, he set it aside, watching the new wounds attentively before he set to preparing to close what needed closing.

But even as his hands went through the same motions as they had for close to two decades, his mind wandered immediately back to you, and the curiously strong pull you’d had on him already. He couldn’t explain it to himself, but he felt like if he slept with you and you ghosted, it would drive him insane for ages afterwards. He’d had friends with benefits before, sure, but they were usually more of an obstacle to work around with his… other nocturnal activities, than something he ended up entertaining for long.

And he wanted more with you, he already knew that. He wanted so much more, so soon, and he was trying his damnedest to be cool about it, but god if you didn’t make it difficult in the best way. How you liked his morbid jokes, and he genuinely laughed at yours, how you didn’t mind his odd hours or his tendency to ramble about various histories of death and decay at the drop of the hat. How curious you seemed about his work, and your compassion for the families he dealt with. How he loved the way you talked about your own day, even if it was something as simple as your side gig, and the care you took with it even when it was frustrating you. He just liked you. All of you.

And he’d been so close to finally getting all of you last night, when the two of you had stumbled into your bedroom after you’d invited him over —

He maybe should’ve guessed something new was afoot when you’d wanted to change plans from actually going out to just staying in for a quiet evening at your place, but he’d been happy just to get to spend time with you, so he hadn’t thought about it too much. It had genuinely started as the two of you goofing around with some multiplayer horror title over pizza, but when you’d teasingly tried to distract him by kissing his neck like you usually did, you lingered there just a touch longer than normal. There was a bit of teeth to it, a heat that the two of you had skirted but hadn’t quite explored yet.

Needless to say, he’d immediately dropped his controller to pull you into his lap. You hadn’t protested - to the contrary, you’d straddled his thighs with yours, your hand pulling his tie like a leash to close any distance left. 

— Even through the rubber gloves he was wearing now, he swore he could still feel the silk of your skin like fire against his palms. He shook his head again, the trocar wounds closed and now trying to thread the needle so he could sew the dear lady’s mouth closed through the frenulum and up through the septum. But he felt his face burn under his mask as he remembered just how you’d sighed when he’d run his hands up your sides under your top.

Like you were relieved. Like you’d been waiting for him to touch you, almost as much as he’d wanted to.

If you had any idea how hard it had been for him to let you go, especially once he heard that sound, you would’ve called the cops—

“Son of a bitch,” he growled, putting the musculature needle down just a little too hard on the steel table top when he couldn’t get his hands to stop shaking.

He was instinctively reaching to pinch the bridge of his nose under his glasses when his hand ran smack into the plastic face shield instead. Frustrated, his swore under his breath, about to fling the offending garment across the room when he heard another gentle laugh from the doorway. He hesitated, then carefully exhaled his frustration in a practiced sigh through his nose, before turning to look over his shoulder. 

“Well,” he mumbled, the tension leaving his shoulders. “I’m glad one of us is havin’ fun with this.”

He could see a gentle swirl of white floating in the doorway, like steam out of a shower. For a moment, the swirl changed direction, as though something like a waving hand had interrupted its floating through space.

 With this small encouragement, he turned back to the waiting guest, taking another cleansing deep breath. “Get it together, Morvant, christ,”  he muttered, cracking his neck on both sides before trying again. You had him acting like an amateur in his own House. 

This time, he hooked the needle through the needed places as easily as writing his own name.

He still frowned even as he neatly stitched the lips closed, hearing the faintest echo of his father in his head. Not the torso half-corpse chained to the wall downstairs, thank Everything Below. But the version that still loomed large in the crevices of his brain, that still snidely muttered about his every move if he performed his duties less than perfectly.

Mooning over a mortal. Jesus, his father would’ve taken the belt to him for that. Again.

Once he was satisfied with how her mouth lay, he picked up the wax he’d be using to fill some of the rougher contusions on Mrs. Berthelot-Yang’s face. With a careful angling of a flat blade to get it out of the jar, he rolled it across the side of his latex-gloved hand, letting it warm itself into something malleable.

You would’ve been worth his father’s wrath, he caught himself thinking. He didn’t know quite how he was so confident yet — the unbearable soon-ness of it haunted him again, as he sized up the empty hole the glass shards had left in her cheek — but as he did so, he felt you, flush against him like you were there in the room.

 He’d gotten greedy last night, he knew that, but you’d been right there and so soft, he couldn’t resist. He clenched his free hand through his glove as he remembered the scent of your neck, the lightest hint of some delicious fragrance as he’d taken small, covetous bites of your flesh just to feel you writhe in his grip.

He’d paused his sampling of your skin at the neckline of your shirt, sitting back to watch you open your eyes he stopped. “…Can I take this off you?” His hands were still up at your back, holding you close, but he indicated what he meant in the way he passed them over the fabric. The two of you had a tendency to be all over each other in stolen private moments during the brief time you’d been going out: at the House, in the hearse, on his favorite bench in the cemetery. But these had been careful explorations despite your shared enthusiasm, mostly over clothes due to him never being quite sure who - or what - might be lurking nearby. Now, there was no threat of a paranormal pest, or his spectral sister’s looming eyes from the shadows. 

It was just you and him, alone at last.

He was too close to you not to see the tiniest hesitation on your part - your teeth briefly grazing your lower lip - before you nodded, your coy smile back in place. “…I’d like to keep what’s under it on, though,” you admitted, your voice soft in how close you were to him. “Is that… Okay?”

“Anythin’s fine by me,” he murmured somewhat hazily, nodding as his hands slid down your sides to your thin top. “Whatever makes you feel comfortable, gorgeous.” He savored the feeling of his fingers sliding under the fabric and finding the warmth of your bare skin, curling around its hem, before he glanced up at you one more time to double check. 

You nodded again, your eyes bright with anticipation, and that was all it took for him to yank the flimsy fabric over your head.

Maxi sat back slightly, taking in your mostly-bare torso — your soft stomach was adorably sweet, just as he’d imagined. He admired your clavicle, the way it was set into your shoulders, the way your skin looked with all the small marks collected over a life. You were a miracle, a work of art, just like he’d dreamed. He took you in almost ravenously, wanting to memorize every freckle, mole, spot. The small galaxy that was you.

You shifted in his lap, your arms drawing in slightly over the dark garment covering your breasts. He couldn’t help but move his attention there as well, pausing in his awe-struck inspection. That… wasn’t a bra. At least, not one he was familiar with. He was flustered internally for a moment; he knew he hadn’t dated around in a while, but did they really start making them a whole different way when he wasn’t paying attention? He swore he’d just put a regular one on a nice little octogenarian at work the other day; was that considered outmoded now? An antique?

“…It’s a half-binder,” you said softly, snapping his attention abruptly back to your face. His heart jumped into his throat when he saw you looking shyly down at your thighs, anticipation replaced with more hesitancy. “It’s. Um— It’s for when—“

“Oh, no, that’s not—“ Maxi stumbled and nearly bit his own tongue, cursing himself for interrupting you. But he was desperate for you to understand how much he was only looking at you with wonder, not with second thoughts. He wanted to curl into himself in agony at the mere thought of you having such a notion.

But the way you looked immediately back to him made him think you were almost more nervous than he was, rather than annoyed, and he felt a flash of protective fondness at the expression on your face. 

“I— It’s okay,” he soothed, nodding. He reached up to your face, his thumb stroking your cheek as he kissed your jaw line. “It’s fine,” he reassured you again, smiling at you. “That’s all okay, darlin’. I only looked concerned because… well,” he paused, feeling his own face warm slightly. “I thought they’d gone and changed how they made bras on me, s’all.”

Your uncertainty was punctured by your surprised laugh, and he immediately felt relieved at the return of your smile, even as he rubbed the back of his neck. He didn’t want to do anything that would make you think he was less than… capable, of taking care of you. But he was only being honest.

“No,” you said, kissing the corner of his mouth. “You’re sweet. No, this is a different thing.” You shook your head. “It’s… um.” The shyness crept back into your face, and as much as he wanted to reassure you again, he made himself wait for what you wanted to say. “…Okay, so,” you said slowly, letting out a breath that shook a little around the edges. “Sometimes, um. I have some presentation issues around my…” You paused like there was something stuck in your throat, instead gesturing to your chest under your binder. “And I don’t… really want to have them there. Or out. Or, like…” Your hand clawed for a moment in frustration as you tried to explain. “I just don’t want them to be a focus?” you managed at last, a sigh on the heel of your words. 

“I don’t know, sometimes I’m fine with them! I mean— Obviously,” you gestured shyly to Maxi, who immediately recalled every time he’d pulled down your neckline to nip at the top of your breasts greedily, on his couch during a bad movie, or against the wall of a crypt during a cemetery walk.

“I’m… very familiar, yes,” he agreed, smiling even as he felt the heat in his cheeks.

Your smile in return reassured him, and he watched the tension in you ease. You reached up, running your fingers through his hair, and he had to fight not to shiver pleasurably at the contact. 

“I just… today was a bad chest day, is all.” You bit your lip again, clearly still somewhat nervous about this. “And I was just, um. I thought we might… and if I-I flinched, or something, I didn’t want you to think… it was you something you did. Because it’s not. It never would be.“ You looked down at your thighs again as you trailed off, your hands sliding to his shoulders. “It’s just - this thing my brain does sometimes, and I don’t always know when.��

Maxi was trying too hard not to get stuck on the fact that you had implied you’d never flinch from him, from his touch, his heart fluttering like a trapped bird in his chest with muffled excitement. He had been trying to slow down just how hard he’d been falling for you lately, but you weren’t making it easy. You didn’t know, you didn’t know, he reminded himself sternly. He couldn’t take it entirely at face value if he knew what he was hiding from you, and you didn’t.

And ideally, he thought to himself, you never… would. Not completely, anyway.

Because there’s no way you’d stay if you knew what he really was, was there?

Realizing he’d been still too long, been too quiet, his hands went to your hips and squeezed affectionately. “Hey.” He waited until you met his eyes to roll his shoulders in a slow, lazy shrug, smiling up at you. “I’m just happy to be here with you like this,” he said, his tone hushed again as he ran his hands up your bare sides. “Really. That’s all. Whatever you don’t wanna do, or— don’t want me to touch,” His hands stopped a respectful couple of finger widths away from your binder. “We don’t have to, at all. Okay?” He shifted, closing the distance between you so you were almost nose to nose… before he paused again. His lips flattened into a line without realizing, his eyes wandering off to the side as he realized what he wanted desperately to tell you in this moment.

It wasn’t The Necromancy Thing, but it something he didn’t discuss often, that was for damn sure.

“You’re sure?”

He looked immediately back to you, and realized you’d been watching his face. Your eyes were careful, searching - veiled, he noticed with a hint of panic. You must’ve thought his hesitation was about you, when nothing could be further from the truth.

“Yes,” he said immediately, nodding vigorously. “Yes, angel, absolutely.” He tapped his fingers where they rested on your skin. “Your boundaries are yours. I’m not about to want anythin’ you tell me you don’t, I swear.” He smiled at you again, feeling a little nervous now. “I was just… you got me thinkin’, is all.”

You blinked, your eyes lightening a little bit as you leaned back slightly to take him in. “Oh yeah?”

Maxi nodded, wetting his lips out of nervous habit. “I…” He hummed quietly, trying to figure out how to word this, exactly. He cleared his throat before looking back to you. “…You, um.” He swallowed. 

How long had it been since he’d done this? Years? It sure felt like years.

But you were waiting patiently, with that particular little smile of yours that you got when he talked. 

When was the last time someone had smiled when he was speaking, he wondered.

“…When we first met, that day in the cemetery,” he finally said, forcing himself to meet your eyes. “I saw your, um. Your pride pins. On your bag, and all. And then, of course, you told me you use ‘they,' and it got me thinkin’ about…”  he paused again, the words still not quite right. “So I just wanted to… not that it’s the same, of course, but I wanted to… What I mean is… God,” he sighed in frustration, his head falling backwards against the couch to stare at your ceiling. “Why is this hard.”

“…I could state the obvious,” you deadpanned, shifting as you straddled his lap still.

There was a pause as Maxi looked down at your thighs, then back to your face. “I see your point.”

There was a brief second of silence, and the both of you dissolved into giggles, the tension at last broken.

“What are you trying to say, Maxi?” you’d asked when you’d both got it out of your system, tilting your head the other way to catch his eyes again.

Maxi sighed, setting his hands on your hips as if to ground himself. “What I’m tryin’ to say,” he said quietly, forcing it out now. “Is that… me too?”

You blinked, your brow crinkling delicately. “…You ‘too’?”

Maxi groaned, running one hand under his glasses over his face. “You’re gonna have to forgive me, Darlin’, old habits die hard.” He gave you an apologetic smile. “I have to be a little more careful about, y’know… who knows, and all,” he said, gesturing vaguely around the room to indicate Greymoon as a whole. He swallowed again, not sure why his heart was racing, why his palms felt like they were going to sweat. You of all people were someone he knew he could tell this to and be safe. So why did this still scare him? 

“I, um. I’m… bi, too. I’ve known since I was… what, twelve? Thirteen?” He felt himself flushing furiously, watching your face for any dimming, any twitch of uncertainty. People reacted differently to bi men. Like there was something about him that was dubious — tainted, suddenly. Though he knew you wouldn’t do that to him, the anxiety was well-learned. “…If I could signal, y’know, and not get shit for it with my… my job, and all, I would. Maybe a pin, or some nail polish, or… somethin’ little, I don’t know. I’ve always wanted to.” His eyes fell to the floor, sheepish. “But this town is so fuckin’ small, and everyone knew my family my whole life,” he said quietly. “It just wasn’t worth the grief, y’know?” He let out a quick, unsteady exhale. “Shit was lonely enough already.” 

He remembered himself and where he was, his eyes snapping to yours. “I don’t mean to— to make things about me,” he said quickly, his words tripping over themselves. “But because I really want you to know, there’s nothin’ you could do, or change about yourself, or how you present, or anythin’, that would make me… not attracted to you,” he explained. His voice was hushed, like he was trying not to spook you. “Does that make sense?”

Your eyes were bright as you beamed at him, clearly relieved — and, if he dared let himself believe it, even elated. “Yes,” you said, nodding excitedly. “Yes, it totally makes sense.” You leaned in, cupping his face in your hands. “I fucking knew it,” you added in a delighted whisper, before raining kisses down over his face.

Maxi laughed, both relieved himself and a little euphoric. “You’re just sayin’ that.” He felt warmth pooling in his chest at the idea that something about his most private self had rung true to you, somehow, even after years of hiding. He pulled you flush to his torso, eliminating the already minimal space between you.

“I’m— not!” you said between kisses, peppering his forehead and his jaw for the sake of making him laugh again. Finally, you leaned back to look at him as your arms wrapped around his bare shoulders. “Babe,” you said at last, looking him dead in the eye. “I can recognize one of our own, even if they’re hiding it under a damn good suit and some hair gel.” You looked him over exaggeratedly before kissing him on the cheek again, then leaning to whisper in his ear. “But you kind of gave it away when you told me you liked Vincent Price and musicals, not gonna lie.”

Maxi felt himself grinning even as he rolled his eyes. “Yeah, okay, I’ll give you that.” He leaned forward to jokingly kiss you all over in turn, but you caught his lips with yours before he could make it there, and everything slowed down again. It was warm against your skin, the fabric of your binder feeling like comfort. Trust. His shoulders, for the first time in ages, felt lighter and looser somehow. Kissing you tasted like coming home, and he felt you smile against his mouth as he leaned into you.

In that moment, Maxi was suddenly intensely aware of the feeling of something… else, looking out through his eyes at you.

Something that wanted you - to drink the light from your eyes until there was nothing left - with such a desperate ferocity, he could swear the scream was audible inside his own skull.

Startled by this unbidden urge, he broke this shared kiss abruptly, pressing a messy kiss to your pulse in your throat. External sensation tended to help shut the Reaper up or drown it out, and you gave him plenty of that: the softness of your skin, the scent you wore in your hair, the surprised noise from low in your chest that turned into a barely-muffled moan. He lingered there, drawing it out, feeling you squirm on his lap as your hands found his hair again and tried to tug him upward. He winced only slightly, seemingly determined to leave his unmistakable mark on the precious column of your neck, but internally he was running a panicked inventory. After decades of being aware of the Reaper, the demon that had made him its home, he thought he’d gotten a good handle on just what could set it off. Sure, it had made noises about liking you, especially the more you hung around. It had done that with everyone he’d dated, as inescapable as it was. It was a jealous, territorial sumbitch, but so was he, deep down, so he couldn’t really blame it.

But that fascination, that need… what the fuck was that? Demanding as his darker self was, it had never been that… specific. Blood, flesh, souls, the usual maudlin bullshit, sure, he was used to it railing and howling and carrying on as it called for what it believed was its Due. Sometimes for sleepless nights on end, when he was younger and trying to fight his true nature.

But wanting you? Specifically, to watch the life drain from your face? To feel your flesh grow cold under his palms?

He had the unavoidable mental image of a face that wasn’t his running a tongue over too-sharp teeth in his mouth, and he couldn’t fight a shudder.

Before he could really figure out what had triggered the spike of aggression, however, you’d turned the tables, yanking slightly on his hair so you could capture his lips when he reluctantly let go of your throat. Your hands moved to unbutton the dress shirt he’d worn having come straight from closing up, and he felt you pause when you got so far down, then the twist of your smile against his mouth as your hand found his shirt stays still on once you unbuttoned his slacks. 

“Aw, Maxi - for me?” As much as you were trying to tease, he could hear how you sounded slightly breathless, your fingers shy as they skimmed over the elastic.

His face positively burned, and he wondered if you could feel its warmth, as close as you were. “Well,”  he mumbled, suddenly unable to quite meet your gaze. “You mentioned that you, um. Didn’t mind, last time—“

“No,’ you corrected, and he looked up immediately.

You were fighting a grin as you toyed with the one on his left thigh, before your eyes flicked back to his. “I said I thought they were hot, remember?” You gave him a coy smirk. “That’s different.”

He had to remind himself to swallow just then, the Reaper well and truly quiet as his brain was too overloaded to process much else besides your expression and your fingers tracing along the inside of his thighs. With some maneuvering, you had his shirt open a moment later, your hands roving over the coarse hair on his torso. 

Something else he couldn’t help but adore about you, besides the enchantingly warm squish of your figure against him, was the way you seemed just as taken with him as he did with you in that aspect. Lord knew why - he knew he was that slightly confusing mix of lean with a soft stomach, and he still didn’t know how to feel about that even now - but it was also the way you didn’t seem to flinch at any of his scars. Namely and especially the thick line of tissue over his heart, where his father had beat him to the punch and drawn first blood all those years ago, and where he’d painstakingly re-opened it not long after, trying a particularly dark bit of magic in attempt to dull his own pain.

As he’d held you in his arms, feeling your warm palm ghost over it with all the sweetness in the world, he was so bitterly glad that it had backfired - and not as badly as it had for his late sister.

“I want you.” You’d said it so softly, your lips brushing his, that it nearly broke him. “Please?”

“I’m yours.” He’d answered as automatically as breathing, and for a second he’d felt at least a fraction of the blood rush back to his face, realizing just how… eager, he must have sounded. But you’d only laughed in that way that left him weak every time, and when he’d shifted underneath you to kiss you harder, it had hitched into the sweetest breathy moan when his cock pressed against the core of you through the cotton shorts you’d worn.

“Goddamn, Maxi,” you’d whispered, pulling away to glance down between the two of you. It was everything he could do not to let himself smirk. 

You’d turned it right back on him though when your eyes met his again with what was unmistakably hunger. “You gonna wreck me with that, babe, or just make me suck on it?”

He’d heard the soft hissing inhale through his teeth before he even realized it was him, his hand gently settling over your throat. Even as he held it like it was made of glass, he still felt himself freeze, realizing he hadn’t asked you first. He watched your eyes, nervously retracting his hand just slightly to hover above your skin — only to relax when he saw the entertained glint there, and the way you tilted your chin back to grant him access.

He replaced his hand delicately, his thumb lovingly tracing the vein he knew lay just underneath your skin from years of filling others with formaldehyde. “You’ve got a hell of a mouth on you, sugar,” he’d murmured darkly, unable to help himself. “If you’re not careful, you’re gonna give me ideas.”

This was apparently the right thing to say, because you’d shoved your neck further into his palm as you’d kissed him furiously, grinding your cunt against his length as you did so.

He’d had to will himself to keep at least a modicum of self-control, both hands falling to your hips and pulling you harder against him to hear you gasp. As he felt the faintest trace of heat and slick through the thin garment of your underwear, his grip turned to steel, fighting the urge to yank away the meaningless little fabric between the pair of you and push into you to give you what you wanted — what he wanted, if he was being honest, just to feel you clench around him in any capacity. When he heard your gasp change to a soft, tremulous moan as you moved again, it took everything in him to force himself to let go of your waist.

“Your room.” He’d blurted it before he realized quite what he was doing, and you’d blinked at him, your eyes already sweetly hazy. “…Please,” he added, swallowing slightly. “I want to-- I need to do this right.” He pressed a soft kiss to your jawline, hoping he hadn’t just made a fool of himself. “I wanna do this like you deserve.” If this was going to go how he thought, he wanted to make sure it mattered. That even if it was all he ever got, he could say he’d gotten to really savor all of you while he’d had it ever so briefly in his grasp.

Your laugh was shaky but real, and you tilted your head to kiss him again (and, unbeknownst to you, muffle his sigh of relief). “You fucking angel, you’re so sweet,” you’d murmured, kissing his mouth and his cheek and the tip of his nose in quick succession. “C’mon.” You’d stepped backwards onto your floor, grabbing his hands to pull him up with you, and the two of you had only run into a chair and one wall when you couldn’t be bothered to look up from refusing to let go of the other person.

Maxi had been over to your house enough times that it wasn’t too odd how well he could pick his way through your living room, and then your hallway. Luckily, by the time he was walking you backwards to your bed, you were too busy nipping his lower lip and gripping the back of his neck to notice just how well he could navigate across your somewhat messy floor, sidestepping you carefully around things he logically shouldn’t have already known were there.

But he’d gotten very well acquainted with your floor in the last couple of weeks. And the space under your bed, which if he was being honest, was more comfortable than most, if only for the rug underneath and the lack of perilous storage boxes he’d have to contort himself to fit around. It would’ve been downright homey, comparatively, if he wasn’t constantly in danger of knocking his head on your bed frame if he sat up too quickly.

In that moment, he’d been beyond thrilled to be with you on top of your mattress as the two of you fell towards it. He was more than happy to be pinned beneath your full hips, his hands caressing your sides, and feeling you push yourself against his cock already leaking into his clothes as you sought any sort of friction between the two of you. This was more than agreeable. If you wanted to ride him until he couldn’t remember his own name, that would be divine. There would be plenty of time after to fuck you into your mattress until you ruined your sheets, he had all night. 

Your fingers had finally hooked into the open waistband of his slacks when suddenly you hissed a curse under your breath, withdrawing so abruptly he was left bewilderedly blinking at your ceiling for a moment.

“Gorgeous?” He sat up to see where you’d pulled back, your expression at once stricken and frustrated. “What’s wrong- you okay?” He felt himself snap out of his own blissful trance, looking you over for any immediate obvious cause of distress. “…Is it somethin’ I did?” He swore he’d just been laying here savoring the taste of your tongue - did he miss something obvious? Had he been careless, distracted? The latter had made him panic even more, wondering if the dark presence inside him had somehow made itself known when he had his guard down.

“No,” you shook your head quickly, pressing your lips together in a slightly aggravated line. “No, baby, it’s not you.” You sighed heavily, sitting back and crossing your legs as you looked… embarrassed? You bit your own lower lip hard for a moment, clearly annoyed with something, before you glanced at him from under your lashes. “…My uterus has the worst fucking timing, is all.” You have him a rueful grimace, wincing slightly as you did so. 

Maxi felt himself exhale a laugh in relief, his fear immediately abating. “Oh, babydoll - is that all? Hell, I don’t care.” He shrugged, his shoulders suddenly immeasurably light compared to a second ago. “Or — wait, shit, hold on.” He caught himself a second too late, blushing slightly at his own phrasing and quickly running his palm over his face under his glasses. Smooth, dumbass. “I mean,” he said, showing you his palms apologetically. “That I don’t mind. But obviously,” he gestured to you. “I don’t wanna do anything that would make you… uncomfortable.” He gave you a smile meant to be genuinely soothing, but only relaxed when he saw you let out a breath you’d seemed to be holding.

“Ugh, I’m so sorry.” You rolled your eyes, falling on your back next to him with an exaggerated sigh. He immediately stretched out next to you, determined to be as close to you as possible while he had the chance. You were always a vision, to him, but stripped down like this, you were something he wanted to treasure. “I tend to be really… sore, later, after my first day. Like, ‘hurts to sit down’ sore, sometimes.” You rolled onto your side, and your fingertip traced a soft line down his chest and stomach that stopped just above the exposed fabric of his boxers. He suppressed a visible shiver as best he could, but it was a struggle. “And based on what you’re packing, babe,” you said, your eyes flicking downward before meeting his and causing him to forget to breathe for a moment. “I don’t think I’m going to be quite able to handle it all tonight. Which sucks,” you added, with an embarrassed giggle. “Because if I’m being totally honest with you, I was really looking forward to it.” You have him a small, shy smile that still felt somehow conspiratorial. 

Jesus, you were going to kill him. He was going to die right there in your bed from the sheer thought that you’d wanted him as much as he’d pined after you.

He took a breath as subtly as he could, trying not to give away that you’d about knocked it all out of him. “Don’t worry about it.” He reached over, lightly moving some of your hair away from your eyes. “Again, I don’t want to do anythin’ you don’t want to do. Right now, later, whenever.” He smiled, admiring your bare stomach and thighs in the soft light of your bedroom window, how the beginnings of the blue hour reflected just a certain way off your skin. You were already lovely from his place in the dark, but out here with you? Where you’d wanted him to see you? “You’ve got me as long as you want me.” His eyes had met yours again, taking in how those shone as well, how he wished he could see them in this light more often.

“But I really do want you, though,” you said with just a hint of a whine, and when you leaned in to kiss him again, it was everything he could do not to roll and pin you down so he could kiss you everywhere, slowly and deliberately. You moved closer to him on your mattress, your hand skimming lower over clothes that now felt far too tight. “Can I… help with this, at all?” —

Maxi swore softly to himself as he mis-aligned the apple of the decedent’s cheek again, impatiently picking up the clay and re-rolling it into what it would’ve looked like if half of it hadn’t been ground off onto the hot concrete of the highway once the visor of the helmet had been smashed out.

“I swear I can do this,” he said over his shoulder, still smelling the hint of perfume. “I’m just… havin’ a day, is all. You know how it is.”

He paused, looking back down at the face he was working on restoring and feeling slightly mortified with himself. “I mean, of course you do. Of course. I’m so sorry, that was thoughtless of me. I’m - I’m just gonna shut up now,” he muttered, furiously re-rolling the clay in his hands to try to change the texture.

When he felt the tiniest ‘thump’ against his shoulder blade, like a heavy palm lightly clapping him on the back, he about jumped out of his skin. 

— As cool as you were trying to be about it, he could hear just the slightest hesitancy in your voice still, and he could’ve died at the idea you thought he would still say no to you. 

“I…” His face felt almost drunkenly warm as he tried desperately to get his brain to work with him here, overwhelmed with just how long he’d ached for you to touch him at all, the warmth of your flesh threatening to scorch his normally cool skin. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to? I—“ He forgot what words were for a second as he felt your hand move again, your fingertips skimming the skin above the waistband between the pair of you. “I’d wanna be able to reciprocate, somehow,” he managed, forcing himself to meet your eyes again. “However, um—“ Oh, you’d been positively teasing him then, sliding his trousers down as slowly as possible while you watched his face. Your expression was sweet, your lips parted just slightly as if in innocent curiosity, but he could still see that light in your eyes that told him you knew exactly what you were doing. “However you feel comfortable,” he said, buying himself time by gently taking your hand in his. “I don’t want this to just be about me.” He couldn’t have imagined anything more agonizing than you touching him and him not being able to touch you. It just wasn’t how he was built. He kissed the back of your hand, and the wickedness in your eyes liquefied into something soft. “Please?”

You bit your lip thoughtfully, considering. He knew what it was to be vulnerable with someone new - to be even more vulnerable than you’d maybe expected, in your case. He gazed at you earnestly, hoping you would see that he was already devoted, there was nothing about your body that could scare him, because it was yours, and at this rate, he was as good as.

“…Okay,” you said at last, and he couldn’t help but beam when you smiled a little at his enthusiasm. “But only whatever you’re cool with. Don’t feel like you have to reciprocate in exactly the same way, if you don’t want to.”

“Try me.” Maxi said, quirking a brow in a playful challenge.

“Oh, I intend to,” you murmured, kissing the corner of his mouth before dipping lower to trace the scar over his heart with the white-hot tip of your tongue.

Maxi fought to keep his surprised inhale from being too obvious as you did so, feeling his already present blush turn into a full flush down his neck and shoulders. He’d been with other people, sure, but he couldn’t remember the last time anyone had seemed to… savor that part of him, quite like you were.

But of course you’d caught that. You looked up quickly, meeting his eyes with a furrow of concern. “Sorry,” you said softly, your eyes flicking between his and his scar. “I- Should I not—?”

“It’s fine,” he reassured you, kissing your cheek hastily. “You’re fine, sugar, I’m just… not used to that, s’all.” His fingertips ghosted down the line of your jaw, watching your brows ease apart. “…People tend to avoid it,” he explained quietly, the corner of his mouth lifting in a half-smile and a shrug of his shoulder.

You blinked. “Oh.” You glanced sheepishly down again. “I should’ve asked first, I know, I just—“ You lifted a hand, your fingers ghosting over the ridge of tissue you’d just claimed with your tongue, and Maxi found himself not only enjoying the feeling, but leaning into it as much as he dared. “…I just figured, it’s you,” you murmured, your eyes finding his again. “And I-“ You broke off, teeth grazing your lip self-consciously like you were fighting a laugh at yourself. “I want that too.”

Maxi sat up with an abruptness that drew a small squeak from you, lifting you so you were straddling his lap now. One hand tangled in your hair as he kissed you hard, the other hand squeezing your hip with a need he was sure gave away just how desperate he was for you —

He slammed down the clay knife a little harder than he meant to on the steel table surface, cussing up a storm under his breath as he failed for a third time to get it shaped exactly how he needed it over the partially exposed gums. “Come on,” he growled, not sure if he was more annoyed with his lack of focus or embarrassed at just how completely you’d invaded his every sense, leaving him stumbling like an apprentice on their first day. 

Probably even moreso, given just how long he’d been helping shape flesh back into faces before he was of legal age.

“I’m so sorry,” he said again, straightening up and folding his gloved hands behind his head. He turned away, unable to quite face the woman he was making a fool of himself in front of on his on table. “I swear, this has never happened before, really. I’m absolutely gonna have you lookin’ right as rain for your viewin’, I promise, I’m just… feelin’ a bit off, today.” He gave a long, slow exhale, one that shook just a little bit around the edges. He had to focus. He had to try. It wasn’t like he hadn’t done this hundreds of times.

But you — you were something new. He’d never had to work with someone like you in his head, before.

And it seemed to be having the worst time trying to hold his infatuation and his professionalism in the same amount of space.

— His brain immediately returned to how you’d kissed him back with just as much eagerness, your teeth nipping his lower lip, and when his tongue had filled your mouth, you sucked on it in a way that went straight to the base of his spine.

“PleasecanItaketheseoffyou?” he’d asked in a single breath as he broke away, his fingers hooking impatiently into the cotton lounge shorts you were still wearing.

You looked shy again. “Um. I’m not…“ You stumbled, choosing your words. “I’m not wearing a lot underneath,” you mumbled. “I thought I still had a day or so, and I wouldn’t want to—“ You gestured loosely at the white dress shirt he still had barely hanging about his shoulders, more off than on at this point.

Maxi pressed another messy kiss to the side of your neck, emboldened and secretly thrilled by the idea that you’d been planning ahead for this. That you’d wanted to, been hoping for it maybe as much as he had. “I don’t mind,” he said against your skin, and he felt your head fall back slightly as he kissed down to the crook of your shoulder. “I swear to god I don’t mind, there’s no part of this I don’t mind, I promise you—“

“Okay,” you half-breathed, half-giggled in his ear, and you got your knees under you to hover over his waist just as he pulled down, finding the black mesh waiting for him underneath.

“Baby.” He nearly whined at the sight, his hands moving covetously over the curve of your ass as he admired you. “Fuck, you’re pretty. You always are, of course,” he added quickly, looking up at you where you were still perched up over him on your knees. “Of course I knew that, but— fuck,” he repeated, his hands moving up your plush hips and your soft sides adoringly. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

You giggled in a way that went right to his chest. “Calm down, Monsieur, you’ve already got me naked,” you teased, still looking a bit shy.

He hooked his arms around your waist, pulling your stomach flush to his chest where he was somewhat pinned under you. “I mean it,” he whispered, and he watched your face, the self-conscious half-smile falling away at what must be the sheer dark intensity of his gaze. “You have no idea how much I want you. Just like this.” 

He was sure his eyes would have changed, the way he was looking at you. He couldn’t always feel it when they did, but the yowling ache of Want inside him as he looked at you like this, for him — you had to have to seen it. There’s no way you could have seen him and missed it, the way he wanted you all to himself, folded into his arms against the dark that threatened to swallow him up when he thought of being parted from you. 

He knew it was scary, especially so soon. It scared him too, in a way. He wouldn’t have blamed you if you’d unwound yourself from his grasp right then and thrown him out.

…But, miracle of miracles, you hadn’t.

You’d watched his eyes with a tilt of your head, transfixed by what, he wasn’t totally sure. But your stare was curious - and, eventually, oddly familiar. He saw it then, that flicker of pure Want, not quite as sharp or dark as his own. But it had been there as you looked down at him, your hands lightly carding through his hair… before one set of fingers tangled in it, scraping ever so lightly at his scalp.

That dark presence in him - something that had no business being so close to you, especially not this quickly - crowed in triumph in a way it hadn’t in a long, long time.

You leaned down, catching his lips in yours, and he met you with a kiss that bordered on ravenous. He couldn’t help the sound that escaped him when you gave another careful, experimental tug at his hair — which blossomed into a full moan when you’d pulled harder, eliminating what space there’d been still between you.

“Tell me what you want,” he demanded as you broke away, the pair of you panting as though you were starved for air. “What can I do for you?”

“…Those all the way off,” you said softly, nodding down at his open slacks as your tongue traced your lips - which, he’d noticed, had begun to look just the tiniest bit swollen with his attentions.

He let go of you only long enough to fumble with them and the accompanying underwear, unable to help a smirk when your own hands had dropped to help him when you decided he wasn’t quite moving fast enough for you. He’d been appreciative of every display of your enthusiasm so far, but the need he’d felt crackling between the pair of you at that moment had been undeniable.

Maxi slid them off with your help, immediately pulling you back against him as soon as they rustled to your bedroom floor. He was trying to keep his breathing level as he felt you finally skim your palm lightly over his cock, and he couldn’t help but glance down to see you sizing it up.

“Damn, Maxi,” you murmured, glancing back to watch his face as you took it fully in hand. 

He bit down hard on his lip as you spread the drops that were already waiting there over the head, trying not to be so obvious in how much he’d been wanting you to touch him. 

“Were you planning on making sure I couldn’t walk tomorrow?”

He opened his mouth to answer, only to have the words tangle into something somewhat incoherent when he watched you move down his abdomen to lick a long, hot stripe towards his hips. 

The pressure at the base of his spine was taking over the rest of his brain, and all he wanted was the heat of you around him, wishing he could do exactly as you said.

“Depends on what you wanted, pretty,” he managed through his teeth, feeling his fingers dig into his own palms. 

“Oh yeah?” You glanced up at him, moving so your torso was perched gently on his thighs. You ran a fingertip lightly up the inside of one, smirking a little as he obviously squirmed. 

Maxi forced himself to nod. “I swear I could— be careful,” he said, trying to keep his voice from shaking as he watched you lick your own palm lasciviously. “I wouldn’t hurt you, I promise—“

“Unless I wanted you to?” 

He knew you felt him spasm in your palm in response. It was too obvious. He said nothing, looking from where his cock was aching, leaking in your hand to your eyes, where you were watching his face with such a dark glitter to them that he had to fight to keep his hips still in response.

“…Okay,” you said slowly, your smile enigmatic. “Good to know.”

Oh, shit. He was a goner now.

You didn’t say much else, your hand gliding up his shaft and gripping just enough to make him inhale raggedly. You gave him a couple of experimental strokes, watching still — 

Before your mouth was around him, and he had to fight to keep his shit together.

“Fuck.” His hands tangled hard into your bedspread, trying to keep himself grounded through this onslaught. He’d kissed you a million times by now - he couldn’t help himself when you were around - and just like then, you were slow, deliberate. Taking your time with him because you seemed to like keeping him right on the line of agony and bliss. 

He felt the softest puff of air, like a suppressed laugh, and when he looked down he felt everything inside him seize at the way you were watching him, your eyes mischievous as he saw a thread of saliva trace its way from your lower lip down his shaft.

He fell back against your pillow with a moan, forcing himself to look away so he could keep from totally embarrassing himself with you. You had no right to look that perfect with your mouth on him like that. His fist knitted tighter into your comforter, until he felt the soft touch of your hand on his - looking down, he let you gently pull his hand away from your bed and set it in your hair, holding it there for a second as if to reassure him before your hand returned to pinning his hips to your mattress. 

Tentatively, he curled his hand in your hair, not wanting to pull hard enough to hurt. He relished the feeling of its familiar texture, something he’d come to love in the time the two of you had spent on the couch with your head on his shoulder. He was just willing himself to be gentle when he heard the quietest noise, and it was only when he felt a shift in your mouth that he realized you’d taken him deeper.

He pulled hard on your hair reflexively, gasping at the change, at the soft sound of you fighting to take him into your throat. “Fuck, angel, you don’t have to...” He looked down at you, and the slight glaze of tears at the corner of your eyes made him forget himself so entirely, he felt his hips thrust forward before he could stop himself.

If you hadn’t been ready for him, he would’ve hated himself for being so careless with you. But you met his worried eyes with something of a challenge, your tongue tracing the underside of his shaft invitingly, and something dark in him delighted at the mirror it seemed to find in you.

Experimentally, Maxi thrust up again, and when he could feel you fighting to control your breath, he wound his fingers tighter in your hair and pulled.

Your moan couldn’t have been more exquisite, and Maxi at last let himself give in.

He wasn’t a monster - his thrusts were tempered, short, but he lost himself in the feeling of you around him: the warmth of your mouth, the soft ragged puffs of your breath, the spit that dripped from your lips. With the lovely wreck you made, and the way he felt you carefully take the rest of him in your hand to make sure no part was neglected, he found himself falling apart fairly soon.

“Darlin’,” he whined, glancing down at you through the now lightly fogged lenses of his glasses. “I can’t take this, I’m— I’m close, I have to—“

It was the way your eyes locked on his and the subtle shake of your head that finally sent him over. The sharp, clear gaze you gave him, the way you made it clear he was doing this your way. That this was something of his that you wanted for yourself.

He came with a shaky groan of your name, feeling the tiniest bit guilty he did so alone, but unwilling to deny how much he loved watching you as he did.

When you finally sat back, gasping, he sat up and immediately crushed his lips to yours like a man possessed, his hands gently cupping your face. He could taste just a trace of himself still on your tongue, and everything that just happened crashed over him at once, turning his kiss nearly feral. 

Even through catching your breath, you giggled again at his eagerness, and he knew immediately he would fight a pissed-off alligator for you if it ever came to that. Two alligators. Possessed ones. There was nothing in the world he wouldn’t face for that sound.

“So you enjoyed yourself then,” you teased, leaning over to kiss him on the cheek. “I’d hoped so.”

“You were divine,” he mumbled, leaning down to kiss your bare neck like a man called to worship. “I mean - I already thought so,” he added. “But that was…” He felt his brain go pleasantly blank again, distracted by whatever scent you were wearing on your skin. 

You smiled under his praise, but there was the tiniest hint of relief in your eyes. “I’ve been wanting to do that for ages, to be honest.” You leaned forward, kissing the end of his nose as he blinked at you in surprise. “I knew you’d be hot when you weren’t totally together. Not that you’re not hot when you’re put together,” you continued, seeing his eyebrows begin to knit together. “I mean, I’ve been wanting you to rail me in those suits of yours forever, obviously.” You waved a hand as if this were, in fact, obvious, despite Maxi having a very distinct hiccup of brain activity at the mere thought. 

“But you’re always so… poised, Maxi,” you said, your hands lovingly coming to rest on his now-bare chest. “I know you have to be, with everything that can go wrong with what you do,” you went on, and he had to keep his face neutral at just how close to the truth that came. “But I’ve been… curious,” you leaned forward, your lips an inch from his as you searched his eyes. “About what I’d see when you finally let go for me.”

Maxi watched you apprehensively as you reached up and ruffled the hair that sweat had undone. You fixated on it slowly sliding over one of his lenses, where it was naturally inclined to lay when he didn’t attack it with hair gel and a comb every day, and after a moment, you sat back with a smirk. “I have to say, baby, I really like it.”

You weren’t totally prepared for when he moved forward suddenly, capturing you in a kiss while flipping you beneath him. He delighted at the soft moan around his tongue in your mouth, only pulling back to hover over you when you were both absolutely out of breath. 

“If I wanted to make you come so hard you can’t think straight,” he whispered, dark eyes boring into yours. “What’s the best way I could do that right now?”

He watched the coquettish set of your face dissolve into a mixture of surprise from his phrasing and - what he was far more excited by - open, undeniable need. Your teeth grazed your lower lip hard, but he got the feeling that you weren’t having to think about it. No, this seemed more like you were hesitating.

“Try me,” he repeated, more insistent now. He kissed the corner of your mouth, then kissed you properly, coaxing you into something more heated. He lingered until he felt you relax a bit, opening up to him, before he pulled back just enough to speak. “I mean it, anythin’.”

Your guard was down, because he saw your eyes move briefly towards where his hips were resting against yours, your back arching very slightly to rock gently against his hipbone in search of any sort of contact. But they snapped back to his immediately, widening when you must’ve realized you’d given yourself away.

“You a hundred percent do not have to reciprocate,” you blurted, your words tripping off your tongue in your hurry. “Especially not, like, today,” you added with an apologetic wince. “Obviously. I’m not about to ask you to— well.“ You looked askance, embarrassed. “Not our, um. Our first… time, and all.”

Maxi snorted, smiling wryly. “Babydoll. C’mon, now.” He propped himself up on an elbow, cocking his head to look at you. “What, did you think I was gonna try to dodge that every month? Twiddle my thumbs ’til it was over?”

You met his eyes again, yours wide - and Maxi realized he’d tilted his hand, hinting at anything remotely close to a future together this soon. He opened his mouth to backtrack, kicking himself for being so presumptuous… when you looked off to the side again, giving a tiny shrug. 

“I didn’t want to assume or anything,” you said, smiling shyly. “Some people just aren’t into it.”

He managed to disguise a sigh of relief as a chuckle, realizing you weren’t automatically discouraging the idea of a… repeat engagement. Hell, that you didn’t even seem to be that put off by the thought of him sticking around. 

“Well. I appreciate your lookin’ out,” he said, tilting his head further to meet your eyes. “But trust me when I say there’s nothin’ about you I’m not into.”

You laughed, disbelieving, but there was a curiosity in your eyes that, when he saw it, he couldn’t look away from. “Define ‘into’ here, babe.”

Maxi sat up a little more, skimming your torso with a rakish glance. “Put it this way,” he drawled, leaning down to kiss just underneath the elastic of your top. “When you do what I do, there isn’t much about the human body you don’t learn to appreciate, in its own way.” 

He ran the broad swathe of his tongue down the curve of your stomach as he moved lower, causing you to inhale through your teeth and squirm slightly. He trapped your plush hips in his hands, fingers nimbly spreading and adjusting to hold you down against your mattress. His thumbs worked their way under the waist of the pretty sheer underwear you’d worn - for him, his insides twisted with eagerness at the thought - down over the skin, as though he were unveiling you. 

“There’s nothin’ I don’t find more beautiful than somethin’ alive just bein’ allowed to be itself.” He kissed your lower abdomen with parted lips, his teeth grazing lightly below your navel just to hear your gentle sound of surprise, to feel you try to move against his palms… and find you couldn’t break his grip. He couldn’t help but sneak a peek at your face, or help the grin that was just a touch too sharp when your eyes were already hazy and huge. “…And it’d be a sin,” he added quietly. “For you to feel like you had anythin’ to be shy about.” He held your gaze as he shifted his hands to your thighs, letting you watch as he pulled them a little wider, his fingers sinking into the plush flesh.

He waited for a response from you - the barest nod, given with only a short dazed lag - before he settled his torso between them, his thumbs tracing the velvet of your skin. He planted an open-mouthed kiss to the inside of each, just adjacent to your cunt, with all the slow measured movements of a ritual. He took the opportunity to adjust his grip again, his right hand shifting slightly upward to mitigate the jolt of your hips, his left staying anchored to your thigh as he continued to rub circles there.

He didn’t know what his eyes were doing when he looked at you a last time, but he could feel the Reaper poised just behind their sockets, unable to resist the proximity of something so vulnerable and precious. He didn’t bother to try to knock it back; it liked this too. Too much to ruin it for both of them. 

He’d let it watch, it didn’t matter. 

Pleasing you would be something that would strictly fall to him. He’d make sure of that.

His eyes wandered downwards, seeing you were already visibly wet - something that sent another searing jolt through him - and there, as though a sign, the beginning bloom of red.

When he swiped his tongue brazenly up your slit, pushing into your folds, the moan you let go from your chest hit him at the same time as the unmistakable taste of blood.

He fell on you like a man starved, pulling your thighs even wider to spread you for him. He felt suddenly insatiable, taken in by your heat, the way you shivered on his tongue, and couldn’t help but cant your hips just slightly upwards to allow himself better access. 

You made a sound of surprise that turned into a hitched sigh, your thighs pushing slightly against the side of his face and his palm as though to keep him there, and he felt himself grin wickedly as he continued giving you exactly what he’d wanted to since that first encounter in the cemetery.

In the midst of the familiar human essence, the iron across his palate, there was something that left the vague impression of… sweetness. He chased it, lingering on your clit to lave the flat of his tongue there like a wave. He heard your moan twist into a whine, and he couldn’t resist the urge to echo it, his cheekbone scraping the inside of your thigh as he unashamedly lapped at your core. Your slick spreading across his mouth and further up left him wanting, and as his hands clenched at your body with need, yours fell to his hair.

He couldn’t help the moan at the feeling of your nails against his scalp, the way he was sure you didn’t realize just how hard you were pulling. He had to fight to keep his eyes from rolling back as you tugged hard, your hips pushing against his mouth for more. He didn’t know which got him to start rutting lightly against your mattress, the little licks of pain or the way he was tempted to just let you grind against his jaw until you were done with him.

“F-fuck,” you groaned, your first actual word in a while, and it came from somewhere low in your chest. This was beyond the breathy noises of a first time, what people thought the other person wanted to hear. There was a rawness as your groan became something strangled, your voice breaking, and when your heel very lightly came to rest on his back, his nails sank into your skin before he could stop himself.

“Fuck, Maxi, I’m—!” You punctuated that sentence with a keening cry as you came apart, and he held his tongue steady against your clit when your hips spasmed against his face. Your heel dug further into his back, and your hands knotted in his hair as evidence of your orgasm coated his tastebuds. He drove his own hips hard against your bed as you shuddered, already inescapably aware that he wouldn’t know peace again until he could have you making a mess on his cock too.

But this was more than enough, for now. He would’ve been happy to do this until the day he died - and then to be resurrected, at your whim, for this express eternal purpose. His name sounded so much more pleasant from your mouth, especially when you sounded on the verge of tears with sensation, your throbbing cunt indecisive as to whether it wanted more or if it couldn’t take anything else.

He only let up when he felt your fingers go slack in his hair, your foot hitting the mattress with a soft little thud. When he pushed himself up to catch his breath, you were gazing sightlessly at the ceiling, your eyes like a starless night as your own chest heaved.

The blood he could feel congealing around his mouth only exacerbated the sudden overwhelming urge he felt to cage you in his arms and never let you go again, to meet everything else that sought your attention with a murderous glare and hands that itched for cold steel.

“Mine,” the Reaper hissed in the back of his skull, and for once, he had found himself in total agreement.

- Fuck. This wasn’t working. If even open wounds weren’t enough to dull the heat he felt spreading through his veins, he didn’t know what would. “Christ, M’sorry,” he muttered sheepishly to the woman on his table, hastily throwing down the clay knife as it felt like his skin was going to combust inside his protective gear. “I’m so sorry, ma’am, I’ll fix everythin’, I swear I’ll make it up to you, I’m—“ He couldn’t even finish the sentence as he pulled the sheet over Mrs. Berthelot-Yang for her dignity’s sake, then bolted out the door of the prep room towards the door to the hearse’s loading bay. 

A full-throated peal of laughter rang out as he left, echoing off the stainless steel on the walls.

He slammed through the exit door, barely noticing the pouring afternoon rain as he scrabbled free of his gloves first, ripping the black latex in the process, before yanking off the splash guard and tossing it over his shoulder and back inside. He was already panting as he ditched the mask underneath, then clawed off the protective coat over his dark scrubs and throwing it behind him as well. Only then did he let himself lean over to put his hands on his knees, letting the somehow still warm rain run through his hair and over his face as he tried to figure out how to deal with the throbbing ache that drove him to literal distraction. If work wouldn’t do it - especially a hard restoration like this one - he wasn’t left with a lot of options.

One tempted him in particular. One he’d been trying to avoid, to be honest. It wasn’t something he liked to do, and it was definitely something he didn’t want to get in the habit of doing whenever a… similar situation occurred.

But as evening loomed on the edges of the afternoon, he couldn’t see himself with a lot of other options.

If he wasn’t in such a state, he would’ve admitted to himself that it was probably troubling how he could’ve made the drive to your house blindfolded by now. How it was probably even more troubling that there was starting to be a spot in the bushes in the empty lot, just down the street from your place, where he hid the old Mustang. Or how he’d already had a change of clothes in the back seat for just such an occasion, and he stripped out of his wet scrubs making as little eye contact as possible with the smugly smirking figure of his uncle in the rearview mirror.

He followed the little not-path that was starting to form between the lot and the old oak trees that encircled your house, carefully ducking as needed to avoid any sight lines to the neighbor’s place across the street, avoiding the thorn bushes he’d learned were there the hard way, and carefully stepping around what rodent warrens he’d come across -

And at last, ended up exactly outside your bedroom window.

Your light was on, but your curtains were closed. He checked his phone, scrolling to his last text message from you - before lunch, if he remembered correctly. Amidst a flurry of bad jokes and some random dancing skeleton .gifs, you’d told him you had been feeling kind of gross today, and were planning on taking it easy.

So you were definitely home, then.

He peered through the small crack he could find in your blackout curtains, scanning your room and finding it still charmingly messy, but blessedly empty. Your bedcovers were rumpled, but there was no sign of you.

He hadn’t seen any light from your front windows when he’d driven by, though - so you weren’t watching TV on your couch. But where were you, then, if not here?

Slowly, he cracked the window, listening to what sounds he could catch so he could try to tell. Sure enough, he heard strains of music, loud, but distant - further in the house. 

So no headache then, he thought with a touch of cheer. Good, you always seemed so miserable when you had one of those. You were endlessly restless on your mattress when you were, like you could never get comfortable.

He took the faraway music as his cue to crack the window wide enough to slide in, bending over to fit through in as little space as possible. It was a careful step over the window seat (something he was rather envious of, if he was honest) to your carpeted bedroom floor, and he immediately removed his shoes, not wanting to track any dirt — both out of respect for your space, and his own desire to remain hidden. 

From there, he dropped into a crouch to hide behind the silhouette of your bed in the middle of the room, carefully lowering the window as he himself sank to the floor. Once he was sure it was secure, he fell over on his side and rolled in one motion under your bed -

And came to a stop right before he ran face-first into your box of clean bedsheets. Perfect, he noted, you hadn’t moved anything in the few days since he’d been by. He’d carefully arranged everything under your bed so he was concealed from the vantage of the doorway, but had enough room to stretch comfortably and avoid a dreaded leg cramp. There was even just enough space to stash his shoes down by his feet, safely out of sight and nowhere where they could leave a mess.

He curled into his familiar space, resting his head on the hoodie you’d left down here once the weather had turned warm. He wasn’t even sure if you’d noticed it gradually sliding off your bed - genuinely, without any manipulations on his part - but after multiple nights of being tossed about in your fitful slumber, it had finally hit the floor when you’d rolled over, and he’d snatched it up immediately to repurpose it for himself. 

It was an old lesson he’d learned early: never waste a good opportunity. Not only did it make lying here easier, it had the lovely bonus of smelling like your soap, too.

…But that scent was a little stronger than usual, if he wasn’t mistaken. He sniffed your hoodie again, confused - it wasn’t like you’d found it to wash it, recently. When that wasn’t it, he kept still, trying to figure out what was happening to create this change. Your room wasn’t a place that changed drastically, and definitely not under your bed, so anything that caught his notice was definitely worth assessing as a potential hazard.

However, it took him all of a minute to realize the music he’d heard was coming from your bathroom, accompanied by the sound of water rushing through the pipes in your walls. You were just having a shower. Was it cramps, then? Heat might relieve those, or it could just be general exhaustion. Bodies were tricky things when they were alive; he’d just have to wait and see what was ailing you.

He took a moment in the stillness to pull his phone out of his pocket and turn off vibrations along with sound, putting it completely on mute. He couldn’t risk him responding to one of your texts giving him away - wouldn’t that just be awkward.

As he did so, he caught another layer of sound amidst the water and the music, and he froze in place instinctively, trying to identify it. It was a voice — yours, he realized.

After another moment still, he realized you were singing.

His heart was fit to burst; he’d never heard you sing before. It wasn’t professional, by any means, but it was just so… adorable. Genuine. You were no songbird, but neither was he. And he would’ve listened to this for hours, just to hear you sound so happy and at peace.

The song itself was familiar too, although the instruments weren’t quite right - a cover, maybe? He scooted as close to the far side of your bed as he dared, trying to make out the lyrics through the wall and the water. You’d stopped singing, your part apparently ended, and the voice had changed:

“—Sing once again with me,

Our strange duet...”

Maxi sat bolt upright in his excitement - or tried to, before he smacked his forehead hard into your bed frame. He immediately lay back down, cursing himself quietly and touching the tender spot that he was sure was going to bruise. Pulling his fingertips away, he was grateful not to see any blood, at least. But he was definitely going to have to not slick his hair back for a little bit, lest he attract unwanted attention.

But you rather liked it when he did that, he remembered you saying so. He squirmed a little where he lay at the idea of your fingers running through his hair, playing with it, the ache in him only slightly assuaged by being so close to you (after being tempered somewhat by having to walk through the rain in the growing dark, on top of that).

But the song was definitely a Phantom cover. He was surprised it had taken him so long to place it, but he was willing to chalk it up to the water and the less-than-spectacular acoustics of being stuffed under your bed. But it had just gotten to Christine’s part again, and he could hear you trying to keep up as she swept into her grand finale. You were admittedly nowhere near the singer’s range, but it was obvious you were having fun. When her final note sounded, he could hear you laughing at your own attempt to match it that came out more of a squeak at the end, and he thought his heart would melt out his mouth and dribble all over your floor. He couldn’t believe he’d never thought to ask you if you liked the show, when he knew the two of you had discussed the book before. He was already reaching for his phone to google when the next touring company would be in town when he heard the water shut off.

He froze even though you were still in the next room, listening hard. You’d turned the music down as well, the playlist having shuffled to something else - another singer he liked, he noticed with glee, making a note to ask you about it later - and he could still hear you faintly through the walls, singing at a much more subdued level to match the quieter melody. 

He heard the clattering of your various skincare products as you moved around, before the music moved as well, leaking into the hall as you opened the door and stepped back into your room. 

Only wearing a huge t-shirt and (he could barely glimpse them) a pair of underwear, you seemed to move on a cloud of steam and something sweet. The whole room was filled with the scent of your favorite products now, and he relished being able to just lay there and drink it in.

He watched your bare feet pad around your room, your nails freshly painted your favorite color, and surmised you must have been trying to treat yourself to a spa day. You had said you’d been feeling less than your best, so this might have been your way of trying to take care of yourself. 

He had to resist the urge to check the date, make a note for next time - he knew he was weird, sure, but there were lines even he was willing to respect. He’d have to trust you to tell him if you wanted his assistance with… something like this. He could respect your discretion if that wasn’t the case; your relationship with your body was your own.

But still. He’d at least make sure to ‘just happen to have’ some extra of your favorite snacks in his kitchen. It wouldn’t stand out too much, he supposed.

At last, you fell over onto your bed, and he heard you sigh contentedly as you relaxed onto your mattress. He resisted the urge to echo it aloud, instead just stretching out as much as he could manage to pretend he was resting alongside you. This wasn’t perfect, but it was definitely better than trying to white-knuckle through things at the Mortuary alone. At least you were here. At least the overwhelming feeling of… everything, had subsided somewhat now that he was with you.

He heard something move from your nightstand, and a moment later, he saw an empty wine glass come into view as you set it on the floor. You stayed leaning off your mattress, opening the door to your nightstand, and he moved backwards as much as he dared, trying to make sure you wouldn’t happen to notice him if you happened to glance underneath your bed. But you seemed fixated on whatever was in the cabinet. He couldn’t help but be a little curious -- he hadn’t gotten to see what you’d kept in there before, and it wasn’t like he had the opportunity to ask when he was here last night.

He heard your impatient sigh, then you moving to the right side of your mattress before settling your feet back onto the floor. A moment later, his heart - previously melted - resolidified and jumped into his throat as he saw your knees follow suit, and you were crouched in front of the cabinet you were still digging through.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. There was no excuse for being under here, especially this early on, and double especially since you didn’t Know. 

He held his breath without realizing, pulling as slowly into himself as he could manage. It wasn’t like you had a direct line of sight under here, but it also wasn’t like you wouldn’t see him as soon as you bothered to look.

He had no deity or entity to pray to for this: the good ones wouldn’t dare grant his request, and he didn’t need the bad ones knowing how he felt about you. So he just held his breath and hoped, watching you rifle through a collection of —

…Oh. 

He watched you set what was very definitely a vibrator on your lap, then a second toy: long, made of dark silicone, it looked like. You picked up and held a couple similar ones of different sizes after that, clearly trying to decide something between them.

He knew he would’ve been scarlet if anyone could see him, the ache from earlier returning tenfold in an instant. So that’s what you kept in there. How… educational. 

You were holding the dildo in your hands, and he felt one of his own slide up to cover his mouth, while the other slid a touch more… south. 

Your fingers were perfect, and once again, he found himself wishing you would touch him now, as you had last night.

…In very different circumstances than right now, obviously. But still.

You were tracing the shaft with your thumb, humming thoughtfully to yourself. “Close enough,” you mumbled. “Or close as I’m going to get, anyway.” He heard you laugh to yourself, sounding a little embarrassed. “Yeah, super normal date conversation. ’Hi, Maxi, maybe-strange request, but can I just measure your dick for a sec? Why? Oh, y’know, just wanted to commission something custom off the internet so I could fuck myself stupid while thinking about you, even though we’ve only been going out for a month, no big deal.’ God, I’m such a fucking weirdo,“ Your laugh sounded somewhere between ruefully amused and mortified.

Maxi’s fingers dug into his cheeks as his palm clamped hard over his mouth, barely cognizant of possibly earning another bruise. His brain felt like it was on fire, his sweats suddenly uncomfortably, impossibly tight. 

You… what? You were doing what? Regularly enough that you wanted a what?

If he could’ve moved either of his hands, he would’ve pinched himself to make sure this was real, and not some pleasant fever dream from accidentally huffing embalming fluid again. But one remained firmly latched onto his face, determined not to give himself away and ruin this, while the other was already desperately rubbing over his cock straining hard against his clothes.

You pulled out a bottle of lube before you closed the cabinet, disappearing back up onto your bed. He like a fox would track a rabbit, aware of every little slip of your skin against fabric, every slight motion of your legs — 

Then the familiar sound of your gasp, soft and fluttering. Unexaggerated, wholly yours. 

You writhed on the mattress directly over him, and he could tell you were just warming yourself up. His face seared against his palm as he heard the growing sound of your wetness, you moaning quietly as you touched yourself, trying to relax.

Slowly, his left hand slipped under the waistband of his sweats, finding a slickness of his own already leaking from his sensitive tip. He bit down slightly on his right hand, determined not to make a sound as he spread it with a painful slowness over his shaft. As much as he dared, he tried to match the pattern of your movements, wishing it was him with you for real — as much as he was deathly curious about the version of him with you in your head.

He heard a quiet, choked sound from you not long at all after: a muffled moan, you biting your lip as you brought yourself to your first orgasm. You let out an unsteady exhale, and he heard you adjust, reaching for something you’d set down on the other side of your bed. 

He had to hold his left hand still as he heard the pop of the plastic cap on the lube, the further hushed sounds of you spreading it along the proxy shaft, before finally you fell back again with a soft ‘thud’.

“Okay,” you murmured quietly to yourself. “Let’s see if I can manage not to totally embarrass myself with another person.”

Maxi was all too aware of his physical body being anchored to the floor, resisting the aching urge to crawl out of the dark and onto your mattress to kiss those fears away. He could never find you wanting, not in a million years, he could prove it to you right now if you just knew he was there, if it wouldn’t scare you —

But behind his eye sockets, he was aware of something looming: a dark, preening arrogance that he couldn’t totally separate from himself. You thought you couldn’t take him.

The Reaper wanted to see you struggle to try, shy and flustered, to see the embarrassed tears that might result if you couldn’t, to feel your body strain and writhe against him because you just couldn’t keep his shaft in you.

The part of his brain that was still wholly his wanted to soothe any such tears, reassure you with coos and murmurs about just how good you were, how well you were doing. It didn’t matter if you needed time, or if you just couldn’t, he’d still be satisfied just to be near you; didn’t you know he’d do anything for you, just to make you feel good? Like you made him feel without even touching him?

 But there was the tiniest part of him that wanted to lick those tears rather than kiss them away, and savor them instead.

His train of thought was entirely interrupted by your sudden gasp, and your quiet groan. “Fuck,” you whimpered, and he could hear you writhing slightly, your feet sliding as you struggled to get comfortable. “Fuck, okay. Okay, it’s fine, I just need…” He heard your head hit the pillow with a sigh, and his body was a taut exposed wire.

He couldn’t help but fractionally tighten his grip on himself as he heard you panting softly, making a small, muffled noise as he heard you try to take the toy deeper, accompanied by the occasional slick sound of something moving in you. He felt his cock twitch in his hand at the noise, wishing desperately that you were adjusting around him instead.

A breathy whisper of his name sang across his nerves like a bow over strings, followed by a quiet whine. “I’m trying,” you pleaded to the imaginary version of him with you, already sounding a little frayed and overwhelmed. “You’re just… a lot.”

Christ, you really were going to kill him. Carefully, painstakingly, he timed the movements of his hand over his cock to what he could make out from the sounds of yours - his hand hoping to even slightly capture the way you would squeeze around him, the achingly slow pace of pushing into you and pulling out again, trying to offer you some relief while still trying to satisfy gnawing need building at the base of his spine.

“I can,” you murmured to him and not-him, your voice shaking a little. “I can, I promise, just… I need a minute.” He heard a groan muffled by you biting your lip, trying to push the toy further. “There’s just so much of you, Maxi.”

He bit his own lip so hard it could bleed, trying his damnedest not to react to that out loud. You thought he was a lot. You’d seen him — you’d had him in your mouth, for christ’s sake, so it’s not like you were exaggerating, but still. You were already anticipating not only fucking him, but wanting to take him fully, and in that moment he thought his own anticipation might burn through his skin from the inside out. He wanted to be in you, for real, now.

Then he heard a soft cry, followed by another thud of your head against your pillow, the scrabbling of your feet against your sheets as your back arched. “There,” you moaned, and his eyes threatened to roll back in his skull yet again. “See? I- oh, fuck, I told you I could.”

And then, slowly, he heard you begin to fuck yourself in earnest.

He bit fully down onto his own palm, matching your pace now, hoping your own slick sounds and now-desperate whines would cover the sounds of him trying to jerk himself off as silently as possible. He wanted to be on you, his chest pressed against yours, feeling your sweat and your heart racing under your bones and your warm panting on his neck as he fucked you properly, gave you everything you were begging for just a foot away. He wanted to pin you down and fuck you until you forgot your own name, until he only knew his own from the way it fell off your lips and onto his. He felt your pace pick up in his own grip as you got closer, and the way his whole body tightened, he desperately wanted to fill you with his own cum, to feel it slide down your thighs as he stubbornly fucked it into you, just to know that you wanted him inside you.

“Please, please, Maxi, don’t stop,” you whined above him, and he tasted his own blood as his teeth finally split the skin of his hand. He wished it was your neck, your shoulder, those lips of yours -- he’d kiss it better in a second, he’d apologize immediately for marking your precious skin, but he was so hungry to feel you with him, for real, that he longed for even the warmth of your wounds on his mouth.

Just when he thought he couldn’t take anymore of this, the closest thing to heaven and hell at the same time, he heard you come with a last cracked moan of his name. He shattered immediately, spilling his own load from a day of obsessing over and repressing the memories of you inside his clothes, and utterly ruining them in the process. He flushed even more furiously, the heat spreading down his chest from both the ecstasy of relief at last, and embarrassment for coming in his pants like a freshman. He fucked into his hand while he listened to your panting until he went fully soft, bordering on the ache of overstimulation but trying to satisfy the gaping hole that came from not actually being able to pull you against him, to descend together in each other’s tangled, sweaty limbs.

For a moment, the two of you just lay there in silence - you still trying to catch your breath, him still biting into the flesh of his hand, not trusting himself not to moan the minute he pulled it away. He wanted to kiss you, to tell you that you were perfect, that you took him like you were made for him - or that you would, when the time was right, he was sure of it. But not until you were feeling better, not until you wanted to, until you chose.

“…Holy fuck,” you mumbled above him, sounding somewhat hazy, and he instead had to fight his usual giggle-snort. How were you this cute, he wondered, it wasn’t even fair.

He heard you shift slowly, reaching for something else on your nightstand; he winced, secretly hoping it wasn’t the lube again. After a long day of agony, he wasn’t sure he could go another round as enthusiastically as you.

But instead, he heard a muted, familiar tapping. In his scattered haze, it took him a minute to place it — until he saw your arm dangling over the side of your mattress, your phone still clutched in your hand as you waited for a text to send.

He caught his name on the screen before you pulled your arm up again, and hurriedly, he rummaged in his pocket to pull out his own just as the notification of a new message appeared.

<[Thinking of you, handsome <3 Hope work isn’t giving you too much trouble today?]

That you were texting him immediately and so innocuously, after vividly imagining him fucking you senseless, made his insides twist again and the flush return to his skin. Did you do this often? His head spun from the idea; how many messages had he read that he’d thought were only sweet little missives, while you were actually glistening and debauched? 

Maxi released his palm from his teeth a centimeter of skin at a time, bringing up his second hand to write back only when he was sure he wouldn’t moan aloud. What could he even say?

[Aw, miss you pretty. <3 Work’s been… work haha. Feeling better?]>

That was as close as he could think to summarizing the situation, anyway. And he was reasonably sure ‘hey look down here :)’ wouldn’t be very well received, even if he was starting to become aware of your own more… interesting tendencies. 

He glanced up at the bottom of your mattress as he waited for his own message to send, pondering this. He knew the two of you were still in the early stages, but he was now deeply curious what other strange urges you were hiding in that sweet little head of yours. Besides apparently liking his dick enough to want a memento of your own - something that, if he wasn’t already still flushed, would’ve made him turn scarlet all over again. He was awash in heat from the tips of his ears to his navel, at this rate.

He heard your phone buzz, and his heart leapt at your quiet little excited noise. He heard you roll over on your mattress and was half-tempted to peek and see if you were kicking your feet in the air, as much as you made him want to do the same. But he resisted and kept himself out of sight.

A second of fast typing later, your response appeared:

<[So much better omg. Sorry about work though :/ Do you maybe want to hang out tomorrow? We could watch a bad movie and drink about it.]

‘Yes!!,’ Maxi sent immediately. He winced at his own eagerness, then quickly added:

[Whenever works for you, if you feel up to it! No pressure if you start feeling bad again.]>

He heard you roll back over onto your back, giggling to yourself. He restrained a sigh of relief. At least you thought he was cute, and not desperate.

Another response popped up on his screen:

<[Oh I’m definitely better, no worries. <3 My place, maybe seven-ish if that’s okay?]

And then, as he was typing a confirmation, another:

<[And don’t sweat needing to drive home or anything btw. I have a spare toothbrush and stuff lol]

Maxi resisted the urge to punch the air, both because it would send his fist straight into your box spring, and because he was far too old for doing that without feeling ridiculous. But he definitely wanted to, in the moment.

[Haha sure. I’ll see you then angel <3]>

You didn’t need to know he’d loved everything he’d seen so far.

Or at least, he would tell you later. 

Much later.

if you've read this far, I hope your next date is also really into musicals (positive) <3

[aventurineswife]

Hi! Aventurine x Reader when the reader is non-binary/not cis and Aventurine is supportive or welcoming of it :)

“Risk it all, for a chance at a life worth living”

Summary: Aventurine is faced with an unexpected confession from you: you are non-binary. Far from being taken aback, Aventurine shows unwavering support, understanding, and warmth, reminding you that you don’t need to fit into any predefined mold. As the two of you converse, Aventurine’s charm, wit, and openness create a safe space for you, and a subtle but powerful connection begins to blossom. Together, you face the complexities of identity and belonging, navigating life’s risks with trust and mutual respect.

Tags: Aventurine x NB!Reader, Non-binary representation, Supportive Aventurine, Fluff, Emotional vulnerability, Comfort, Mentions of survivor's guilt, Slow burn.

Warnings: Brief mention of past trauma (survivor's guilt, slavery), Sensitive topics regarding identity and self-acceptance.

The gentle hum of the night played a soft melody through the dimly lit room, the amber glow of a few scattered lamps casting long shadows along the walls. Aventurine stood near the large window, his hands casually resting behind his back, staring at the city beyond. He’d always been fond of such moments—pauses between chaos, where the world seemed to hold its breath.

You sat on the plush sofa across from him, your legs tucked beneath you, feeling the weight of the conversation hanging in the air. Tonight, for reasons you couldn’t explain, felt different. There was an unspoken tension that neither of you had yet to address.

Aventurine turned his head slightly, his eyes gleaming in the low light, his sharp gaze piercing the silence. He was always like this, seemingly in tune with the smallest of movements, the subtlest of emotions. The man could read you like an open book, but tonight, you were the one trying to navigate his unreadable expressions.

"So," he said, his voice smooth like velvet, with just a hint of amusement, "You’ve been avoiding something, haven’t you?"

You hesitated. The knot in your chest tightened. You couldn’t explain why you were feeling so exposed tonight, but something inside you urged to be honest, even if it meant laying your vulnerability bare in front of someone like him.

"I'm... non-binary," you finally muttered, your voice barely above a whisper. "I don't fit into the boxes everyone wants to put me in. I don’t have the words for all of it, but... it's been hard sometimes. I wanted to tell you sooner, but..."

Aventurine remained still, his expression unreadable. Then, with a slow, deliberate movement, he turned fully toward you, his lips curling into a smile that held neither mockery nor pity. It was warm, inviting even. It was the kind of smile that made the air between you feel just a bit less heavy.

"You don’t need to say anything more, you know," he replied, his voice softening. "I can see it. I’ve always seen it. There’s no need to justify yourself to me."

You blinked, unsure if you had heard him correctly. Was it possible he already knew? Was it that obvious?

His smile widened slightly, as if reading the doubt on your face. "I’ve always been good at reading people. More than that," he continued, stepping closer, "I admire the way you’ve learned to navigate a world that demands conformity. I understand the struggle."

Your breath caught in your throat. "You... understand?"

Aventurine nodded slowly. "I’ve spent my life dodging labels, too. It’s a game, isn’t it? A game of risks, of stepping out into the unknown. Of betting on yourself even when no one else believes in you." His eyes flicked to yours, his gaze intense and searching, but not judging. "But I don’t need you to fit into anything. I only need you to be real with me."

There was a sense of relief flooding through you, the weight you didn’t even realize you’d been carrying beginning to lift. The room seemed warmer now, less intimidating.

"I’m sorry if it’s strange," you murmured, still trying to make sense of it all. "I’ve just... never been sure how people would react. Especially someone like you. You’ve got everything figured out, and I—"

Aventurine raised a hand, his fingers gently signaling you to stop. He crossed the space between you in a few strides, standing directly in front of you now. His presence was magnetic, like gravity itself had drawn him in.

"Don’t apologize," he said, kneeling down slightly so that his face was level with yours. "You think I’ve got it all figured out, don’t you?" He chuckled softly, a hint of a mischievous edge in his tone. "That’s funny, considering my entire life has been nothing but one big gamble. I don’t have it all figured out, but that’s the fun part, isn’t it?"

He gave you a wink, his eyes softening even more. "We’re all just rolling the dice, playing the odds. No one gets to claim control of the game entirely. Not even me."

You found yourself laughing quietly, a small, surprised sound escaping your lips. For the first time in a long while, you felt the weight of your own insecurities lifting. Aventurine wasn’t judging you, wasn’t pushing you to explain yourself in ways you couldn’t. He was welcoming you, exactly as you were.

"You know," you began, your voice a little more confident now, "You make it sound easy."

Aventurine raised an eyebrow. "Easy?" He repeated, his voice playful. "No, darling. I never said anything about easy. But who’s to say you can’t make it your own game? You have a knack for it, after all."

You met his gaze, your heart feeling lighter with each word. He wasn’t just being kind; he was invested. He didn’t just accept you—he understood the stakes, the risks, the gamble of simply existing.

"I want you to know something," he said, his expression suddenly more serious, though the warmth in his eyes never faltered. "I don’t need you to fit into any mold. Not with me, not with anyone. You’ve survived, and that, my dear, is worth more than any victory I could ever achieve. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise."

Your eyes softened as you absorbed his words, the sincerity that lay behind them stirring something deep within you. It was more than you had ever expected to hear from someone like him. And for the first time in a long while, you felt as though you had found a place where you could truly belong.

"I don’t know what to say," you whispered, a shy smile curling at the corner of your lips.

"Then don’t say anything," Aventurine replied with a grin, standing up once again, offering you a hand. "Just play the game your way. And let’s see where it takes us."

As your hand slipped into his, you knew—this gamble, this dance of hearts—was one you were willing to take.

Together, you could face whatever the odds threw your way.