#Things with ties are like my staple

[catfacedcat]

heyy whos tgis guy @thunderblazz

[moe-broey]

Art dump. Look At My Art Boy

You are getting very little context unfortunately because I have so much internal fucking lore and so many WIPs in my mind and notes app. But.

This is a snippet from one bit of Early On lore, where I think it's an Alear FB situation. Alfonse checks to see if Moe is settling in okay, offers to help out with any odds and ends, some mutual evaluation occurs, Moe Is lowkey testing Alfonse, neither of them are really normal about it (the vibe is a bit different from Alear FBs also though. Bruno just went missing, so Alfonse is a bit drifty, but is trying to keep busy/fulfill his responsibilities self-imposed or not, and also. Again. Studying The Newcomer). The Result (part of the odds and ends):

Another detail is how no one knows how to refer to Moe yet, pronoun-wise. That comes later, I think.

A little afterward....

The Crafty Creature (more internal lore, toymaker)

Seamstress (masculine). It probably reuses the length/scraps it cut off from the original robe.

A Concept (I barely draw it hooded anymore, but maybe early on, it wore the hood more/most of the time). Was specifically thinking about how both Susie and Ralsei have sprite changes that alter how their expressions Look completely (esp moreso thinking of Susie, how her expressions become more readable/dynamic when you actually get to see her eyes) (that said. This is still a fairly unreadable expression LMFAOOO it just has big ol' eyes)

[smileysuh]

daylighter

🌙 starring. Jeon Wonwoo & Kim Mingyu x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. Nothing in your life has ever been as sexy as this moment. Two strong men, one begging and whining while the other dominates. You, caught between them both, the source of their torment and their pleasure. They’re opposites, in temperament as well as being, after all, werewolves and vampires have historically never gotten along- but they agree about you, and right now, that’s all that matters. 

tw/cw. Unprotected sex, threesome, foreplay, fingering, squirting, pussy eating, sadism, breast worship, Eiffel tower, blow job (m receiving), hand job, praise, dirty talk, degradation, power imbalances, dom!Wonwoo, Switch!Gyu, masturbation, sloppy Gyu, etc… I pet names: (hers) baby.  

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 9.3k

🍭 aus.  Supernatural au, werewolf!Gyu, Vampire!Wonwoo, 

☀️ mlist + an. And with that, 2024 is complete :) I wanted to end it with a bang, and this pairing has been a staple on my blog for years now. Thank you to everyone who has supported me this year in any capacity, and happy holidays!

Prologue: 

“The ascension is in a year,” the crone sighs, looking out at the room of gathered witches and allies. “I think we all agree that the timing of Seungcheol’s departure is less than ideal, especially now that we’ve narrowed down an ancestral safehouse with adequate warding.”

You frown, and your vampire protector immediately reaches out to hold your hand, giving you a reassuring squeeze. 

As the future head of your coven, you have a protection detail, and Seungcheol has been an anchor in your life since you were eighteen. It had been a daring attempt at protecting you, after all, alphas like Seungcheol can’t just leave their packs to take on a witch princess as their ward, but Seungcheol had given up a lot to ensure your safety. 

Now, he’s returning to his pack, to his own world, and you’re not quite sure where to go from here.

“There is, however, a replacement,” the crone continues. “A beta by the name of Kim Mingyu. He is, supposedly, a prodigy. He’s the size of an alpha, with domestic attributes that make him uniquely qualified for the assignment of protecting our future leader. Seungcheol offered Mingyu up personally when he found out we would be relocating y/n to a compound. The alpha believed, and I agree with him, that, by having Mingyu on location, it would reduce the need for extra staff to deal with cooking and maintenance. By all accounts, this beta, Mingyu, and our loyal vampire protector, Wonwoo, should be able to look after y/n completely independently, which would lower the risk of demonic attack through spies.”

Wonwoo shifts beside you, and you know the stoic man well enough to understand that small movements like this are a sign of irritation.

While Wonwoo and the wolves who’ve been a part of your protection detail in the past have all had blood ties to you, the vampire has made it clear he’s never been fond of working with ‘dogs.’

But as skilled as Wonwoo is, there’s one thing he simply can’t defeat, and that’s the sun. You’re the most protected witch in the world by night, but by day, you need a different line of defence, and that’s always been the job of wolves.

There was a vampire, once, who took care of a member of your family line during the day. An ancestor of yours had done the impossible, she’d created a ‘Daylighter Potion’ that could enable vampires to walk in the sun. That forbidden knowledge had incurred the wrath of demons. Your ancestor, as well as her daywalking companion, had been lost to a bloody history, and with them, the recipe for this transformation process.

There are still hopes of recreating the Daylighter Potion, but until then, this Kim Mingyu is necessary. You can only pray he’s cut from the same cloth as your exiting alpha.   

One: 

The wards are definitely strong, something Mingyu realizes as he approaches the large compound house he’ll be protecting you in from now on. The location is also super secluded, with the nearest town over an hour away.

If you’re looking to protect someone, this is definitely the place to do it, and when Wonwoo opens the door to the large home, Mingyu realizes immediately that the stoic vampire is as formidable as Seungcheol had made him out to be.

Power oozes off the immortal being, and Mingyu, despite his size, suddenly feels quite small.

“Hi,” Mingyu says, forcing a smile and an extended hand, “I’m Mingyu.”

“You’re late,” Wonwoo responds, pushing the door open and turning to walk away, clearly expecting Mingyu to follow.

“Yeah, I uh, got turned around on the roads. My GPS shit itself.”

Wonwoo remains quiet, and Mingyu hurries to keep up with him. 

“I’ll give you a tour, then you’ll go meet y/n,” Wonwoo sighs, and thus, the exploration of the house begins.

Mingyu does his best to be quiet, to take in the information. Wonwoo seems like the type to only say something once, and Mingyu doesn’t want to get off on the wrong foot with him.

Seungcheol had also warned Mingyu about the vampire’s general hatred for werewolves, so Mingyu knows this isn’t a friendship or working relationship that will be earned overnight.

“Can I uh, ask a few questions?” Mingyu enquires as the tour comes close to an end.

“If they’re not stupid.”

Mingyu forces a laugh, but it’s clear from the vampire’s expression that he had been serious, so the chuckle dies down quickly. “Why only two guards?”

“The location is remote enough to be quite secure, as is the warding,” Wonwoo responds smoothly. “Think of this house like the Pentagon, no outside entity has ever breached it.”

“And the demons who are after y/n, it’s because she’s set to be the next crone?”

“In part,” Wonwoo sighs, folding his arms over his chest. “She’s very powerful, and there are certain potions that only she can produce, potions that were lost.”

“What kind of potions?” Witches are known for their tonics, sure, but Mingyu’s never assumed potions to be the most interesting aspect of being a spell caster.

“Old ones,” Wonwoo states, signaling the end of the line of questioning. He begins to walk again, and Mingyu follows, biting his tongue as his mind runs a million miles an hour.

Mingyu can smell the greenhouse solarium before he’s even entered it. The scent of fresh herbs, flowers and general greenery is delightful in comparison to the mustiness of everything else in the old mansion, and Mingyu takes a deep breath as he enters the space.

It’s dark out, but the room is illuminated with fairy lights, their reflections twinkling in all of the windows. It had begun to rain just as Mingyu had pulled up with his truck, and the soft pattering of water on glass is more soothing than the wolf had expected. 

“Y/N,” Wonwoo says, drawing your attention from where you’re seated on a couch, pouring over old books. “This is Mingyu.”

You look up, and Mingyu’s immediately struck by your beauty. The final thing Seungcheol had warned him about was your looks, but his description of you hadn’t done your features justice. There’s a power in your eyes, but a softness in everything else. You’re not some old crone, not by a long shot. 

Mingyu’s alpha had told Mingyu that the vampire guarding you has somewhat of an interest in you, an interest that goes beyond that of protector. Seungcheol had figured that if you, a powerful witch, were going to favour someone, it would be better if it was a wolf than a blood sucker- but even if he hadn’t told Mingyu to get close to you, one look at your lovely smile as you stand to greet him is enough to make Mingyu want to know you better.

“How was the drive?” you ask, pushing your book to the side and stretching.

Your cardigan falls slightly off your shoulder, and God, Mingyu’s eyes take in your newly exposed skin like a man dying of hydration takes in water. He swallows the lump in his throat-

“The dog got lost,” Wonwoo responds before Mingyu gets the chance to.

You laugh. “That happens around here,” you assure him, “you’re definitely not the first.”

“It’s uh, a nice house,” Mingyu offers.

“It belonged to an ancestor,” you say smoothly, “so did these books.”

The werewolf smiles. “Looking for family recipes?” 

“Something like that.” 

Oh, so you’re potentially as secretive as Wonwoo is. What could you possibly be looking for in all these dusty old books that you don’t want to tell him about?

“You must be tired from your drive,” Wonwoo states, turning to Mingyu. “You should go to your room and rest, I’ll take care of y/n now, and when the sun rises, I’ll come get you for your first shift.”

Two: 

You wake up slowly, yawning as you stretch. Your motion knocks a book off your bed and you groan. You’d fallen asleep late in the early morning hours, pouring over books with Wonwoo beside you. Your vampire guard is nowhere to be seen, but there’s a knock on your door and a moment later, Mingyu is poking his head inside.

“You okay?” he asks.

“Yeah, just dropped a book,” you respond, leaning over your bed to pick up the diary.

“What were you reading?”

“An ancestor’s journal,” you groan, still trying to shake away your morning grogginess. 

“Any hot gossip from the middle ages?” the werewolf jokes with a boyish grin.

“Nothing too interesting,” you grin. “Give me a sec to get dressed, then we’re going to go for a walk.”

“A walk?”

“In the forest, I need some mushrooms that aren’t growing in the solarium.”

With a nod, the werewolf goes back to his post outside your door. You take your time getting ready, even going so far as to brush your teeth. Werewolves have sensitive noses, and the last thing you’d want is for some hot beta to smell your morning breath.

Half an hour later, you and Mingyu are walking through the woods.

You’d written a list of various mushrooms and plants you’d need from your readings last night, and Mingyu is holding your basket as the two of you scour the trees and forest floor for potion ingredients.

You notice that Mingyu is quite twitchy. Every sound, every bird flying overhead, draws his eyes.

“We’re quite safe here, you know,” you laugh, thinking his behaviour is adorable.

“Can’t let anything happen to you,” the werewolf muses.

“You sound like Wonwoo.”

“Has he been protecting you for long?”

“Since I was eighteen,” you nod, bending down to collect some moss. 

“You two must be close.”

“We are.” Your relationship with Wonwoo isn’t something you spend a lot of time dwelling on. He’s your guard, and you’re pretty sure that’s all you are to him, a precious witch he needs to protect due to vampire blood pacts.

You care about him, sure, but Wonwoo’s never been the type to wear his heart on his sleeve, so you’re okay with it being a one sided affection.

“Anyways,” Mingyu sighs, reading your cues and changing the subject, “what potion are you going to make?”

“There are a few I want to try, old things from the texts.”

“Anything interesting?”

“I found a perplexing potion for dog smells, not that I’m saying you smell, but I know Wonwoo always hated Seungcheol’s scent. I figured he might not look so sour whenever you’re around if you smelt better.”

To your surprise, the werewolf laughs. “So you’re making me cologne from moss and mushrooms?”

“Something like that,” you smile.

“Wonwoo was being secretive last night about the potions you make, I figured maybe there was some, I don’t know, super love spell or something crazy that you’d be creating.”

“No super love spells, I don’t believe in those,” you admit. “There are old potions in the texts on the property, things that were lost, for one reason or another. My brewing skills are a little rusty so I figured I’d start with the more mundane recipes before I try anything too extreme.”

“How extreme are we talking?” Mingyu asks. You cast him a sideways glance and he holds up a hand. “I don’t mean to pry, I just… I don’t think I’ve ever met a witch before, I don’t know much about what you guys do with those big pots and stuff.”

“Cauldrons,” you correct him, your body relaxing again. You take a deep breath. “Mingyu?”

“Yeah?”

“I can trust you, right?”

“A hundred percent,” he nods, an ernest expression on his face.

You stand up from your moss patch, moving to set some in Mingyu’s basket. “There’s a specific potion I want to make, and I think the recipe might be somewhere in the old books here.” 

“What kind of potion?”

You take another deep breath, trying to decide how to word your response. “Basically, my line has a strong tie to vampires, and we have this tie, because one of my ancestors made a potion. We call it the Daylighter potion, it enables vampires to walk in the sun.”

Mingyu’s jaw drops as he stares at you.

“Yeah, I know, it feels like fairytale, part of me isn’t sure it’s even a real recipe- but the vampires who swear to protect my family think it was real.”

“Does Wonwoo think it’s real?”

“Yes, it’s one of the reasons he’s protecting me. Could you imagine, being a vampire who could walk in the sun? He would be the most powerful vampire in the world.”

Mingyu frowns. “Is it a good idea? To make him more powerful, I mean.”

You contemplate the question for a moment. “Wonwoo has never been anything but good to me. Sure, there are repercussions for knowledge like the Daylighter potion recipe, I mean, my ancestor who created it went missing and was found dead months later-”

“Did she use it? On a vampire?”

You nod. “By all accounts, she used it on her own protector.”

“And did he… you know, did he kill her?”

You shake your head. “No, he was found dead with her. Besides, when vampires make blood ties to witches, they have a curse set on them, they can’t harm us, directly, or indirectly.”

“Sounds like a powerful curse,” Mingyu frowns. “Do uh… the werewolves that work with you have the same curse?”

“Do you need to be muzzled, Mingyu?” you grin. 

He shakes his head. “Definitely not.”

“Good.”

You continue your foraging, and Mingyu is quiet for a while before he begins asking questions again.

“So uh… do you just want to use this Daylighter potion in Wonwoo because he’s your protector, or…”

“Why are you so curious about my relationship with Wonwoo?” you counter. 

He shrugs, but it’s way too nonchalant of a motion to be believable. “No reason.”

You narrow your eyes at him, but decide to let it go. Mingyu may be eluding to things, but it’s his first day here, if he wants to speculate about your connection to Wonwoo, he can guess all he wants. He’ll see how things work around here soon enough. 

Three: 

Wonwoo is exiting his blacked out bedroom the moment the sun has set sufficiently for him to stalk around the old mansion.

He has a one track mind, and the vampire follows his senses to the dining room, where you and Mingyu are sitting to eat dinner.

It takes a moment for Wonwoo to survey the surrounding area. The smell of garlic and ginger is quite potent, and it appears that the wolf has made you some sort of ramen. “Wonwoo!” you grin excitedly, “Mingyu’s an amazing cook, I wish you could try this!”

The wolf’s heart skips a beat, and it irks Wonwoo, who simply scoffs and heads to the kitchen to grab his blood bag. He’s irritated when he’s hungry, and Wonwoo can feel himself calming down as he rejoins you in the dining room.

Wonwoo takes his seat next to you, mindful of the books strewn about. He picks one up, beginning to flip through it. “How was your day?” he asks you.

“It was good,” you respond casually. “We went for a walk, gathered some moss and mushrooms, I’ve got a potion brewing right now that I think you’re going to like.”

Wonwoo casts you a sideways glance, had you found the Daylighter recipe? 

“It’s like werewolf cologne,” Mingyu pipes up from the other side of the table. “Gonna make me not smell so bad.”

Wonwoo’s gaze shifts to Mingyu, and he feels irritation bubbling inside of himself again. Logically, it’s clear that the new wolf is trying to be friendly, and he’s taking steps to mask odor- but Wonwoo just can’t find any friendship in his heart for Mingyu.

He gets the sense that you and Mingyu have bonded today, and the way you’re eating up the ramen Mingyu made isn’t doing anything to help settle the uneasy feeling in Wonwoo’s stomach.

Seungcheol’s an alpha, and Wonwoo had respected him. Cheol had come with one goal, and one goal alone, to protect you. As an alpha, he had a whole life to go back to- but this beta, well, Wonwoo’s not too sure about how this ‘protection detail’ might pan out.

It’s clear Mingyu’s attracted to you, Wonwoo had seen it in his eyes the moment he’d met you last night. This little wolf crush is irritating, and Wonwoo hates being irritated.

Wonwoo’s gaze shifts to you. It’s unclear to him how you feel about your new day guard. You seem happy to be eating, so any emotions you have toward the werewolf will be skewed due to the joy you’re getting from the ramen.

No, Wonwoo will have to watch the two of you together closely, but, at the moment, he’s more concerned about getting Mingyu out of here so he can enjoy you himself.

“It’s about time you go to bed, wolf,” Wonwoo says.

“It’s still early,” Mingyu argues.

“Sunrise is at six fourty-five,” the vampire counters. “I’m sure you’ve had a long first day. You should rest.”

This time, Wonwoo makes sure to leave no room in his tone for objection, and with a very doglike look of defeat, Mingyu sighs.

“Okay, yeah, I can go to bed.” 

Wonwoo watches as Mingyu lifts up his bowl of ramen, and in two massive, wolfish slurps, he devours the rest of his food.

“Goodnight, y/n,” Mingyu smiles before heading to the kitchen to put away his dishes.

The werewolf lingers for a few minutes, and Wonwoo relaxes when he finally leaves, lumbering up to his second floor bedroom.

“You could have been nicer to him, you know,” you muse, lifting up a book to scan the potion recipe there.

“I could have been,” Wonwoo agrees, leaving it at that.

The two of you rifle through books as you eat your dinner, and then you head to the living room. Your nightly ritual consists of watching movies together, giving you a bit of a break before you go to read before bed.

Wonwoo knows you’ve been wearing yourself thin with all the books you’ve been flipping through. You’d spent the first three days locked in the house and thoroughly examining the library with Wonwoo before Mingyu had shown up, and Wonwoo would be surprised if you’d slept even eight hours in that three day period.

No, you need rest, even if it’s only when sitting next to him on the couch with a movie going.

You fall asleep in no time, and Wonwoo lets you be. He picks up a potions book, flipping through it while the film continues in the background.

Wonwoo won’t let anything hurt you, and he’ll lighten your load in any way he can, even if it means scanning stupid witch recipes. 

Four: 

Mingyu’s been your guard for around a week now, and things are running smoothly, however, you can tell Wonwoo’s still not happy about the situation. It’s midnight and the two of you are in the solarium, you’re getting bored of going through books, so you sigh, setting yours down.

“How are you feeling?” you ask.

“Annoyed,” Wonwoo responds smoothly, not looking up from his book. “I swear I’ve read over fifty different love potions this week, and they’re all just as useless as the last.”

“That’s because love potions don’t work,” you sigh, moving closer to Wonwoo. “Each potion has a different flaw, so each potion is adjusted to make up for that flaw, only to be ruined in some other way. But hey, you know that’s not what I was asking you.”

“You asked how I was feeling.”

“I mean… how are you feeling about this whole Mingyu thing?” 

“I feel,” Wonwoo sighs, “like we better find this Daylighter potion soon, because that werewolf cologne isn’t working as well as we thought it would.”

“Is it just his smell you don’t like?” you ask.

“I don’t like dogs,” Wonwoo states, still not looking at you.

“I know werewolves and vampires don’t get along, but I mean, he’s a nice guy, don’t you think?”

Wonwoo stays silent, an answer in and of itself.

You  groan. “Even if we do find the Daylighter potion, even if I’m able to brew it, you can’t protect me twenty four seven. I think Mingyu is going to be with us longer than anticipated.”

“I can protect you,” Wonwoo declares, finally raising his eyes to meet your own. “When you brew the potion, and I can walk in the sun, I can protect you always.”

“Even vampires need a little rest every now and again,” you sigh. “Besides, is that really what you want? To protect some young witch until she’s an old lady?”

Wonwoo’s eyes shift downward again. “You’re not just some young witch.”

You continue staring at Wonwoo, trying your best to read him. You wonder if maybe he does care for you, if Mingyu’s seeing something you’re not. Why would Wonwoo be so protective of you if he didn’t have some sort of feeling for you? He clearly doesn’t just want the Daylighter potion so he can leave you and go be a powerful vampire elsewhere.

God, he’s so confusing at times.

You let out a breath. “I told Mingyu about the potion.”

“What?”

“The Daylighter potion, I told Mingyu.”

Wonwoo closes his book, and you can tell from his expression that he’s irritated. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

“Who’s he going to tell?” you retort. “Seungcheol? Even if he did, what would Cheol even do about it?”

“If the wolves ever found out there was a potion to make vampires walk in the sunlight, they’d come destroy this whole house, and they’d kill you too, just for good measure.”

“Seungcheol just spent years protecting me,” you argue. “He would never do that, and besides, Mingyu won’t tell anyone.”

“What makes you so certain?”

“I just am, call it witch’s intuition.” 

To your surprise, Wonwoo actually cracks a smile. He shakes his head, releasing a sigh. “Fine.”

“Fine,” you echo, picking up your book again to continue reading.

The two of you sit silently as you work, but your mind begins to drift.

In a way, it’s almost as if Wonwoo feels threatened by Mingyu, as if- he’s jealous. There’d never been this aura when Seungcheol was around, but then again, Seungcheol had never been a real threat, even though he was an alpha… maybe, especially because he was an alpha.

You’re attracted to both Wonwoo and Mingyu, but you’ve always pushed that attraction aside with your vampire protector, always convinced yourself he didn’t view you in that light.

Mingyu’s arrival is stirring the cauldron, and you’re not quite sure what to make of it. 

Five: 

It’s been almost a month with no issue. Mingyu’s gotten used to everything, used to the constant reading, the constant witchy little foraging adventures. He’s just gotten used to you, and maybe, in someways, Wonwoo as well. 

The werewolf is currently sitting outside your bedroom as you shower in your ensuite. The two of you had been checking wards when it had started to rain, and you’d been shivering so much when you made it back to the house that Mingyu had insisted you heat yourself up.

He does his best not to listen when you’re in the shower, not to be overtly aware- but even with two doors between you, his senses are too strong not to be honed in on everything, especially with a full moon approaching in three days.

You have a bodywash you make, and although the strong pleasant scent of eucalyptus and rosemary is predominant in the air that wafts under the doors, there’s something beneath it too, a smell that Mingyu knows all too well.

He can’t hold it against you though, he’s pretty sure you’re all a little horny from being cooped up like this- well, maybe not Wonwoo, but Mingyu’s definitely been feeling it. The bathroom is the only place you have any real privacy, and lately, Mingyu’s noted that you’ve begun to use the seclusion to your advantage. 

The running water muffles your sounds, but even the world’s best witchy bodywash can’t cover your scent, and Mingyu sits there, doing his best not to gulp it down like a starving animal.

He can feel the blood rushing to his cock, and he does his best to turn his brain off, to calm down- after all, he can’t have you exiting the shower and seeing him hard in his pants.

God, Mingyu had never even considered that horniness would be a problem in a situation like this. 

At least he gets to go to his room every night and do what needs to be done- but you, you have a guard within 10 feet of you at all times.

He wonders if you do this at night, when Wonwoo’s outside your door. And for the first time, Mingyu wonders if Wonwoo’s as tormented by the sexual nature of seclusion as he is. 

It’s not something he’ll be able to ask the vampire, as much as Wonwoo tolerates Mingyu now, that’s a line he won’t cross. 

Six: 

When Mingyu had first come to the house, he’d just finished a full moon cycle. Wonwoo had spent a couple of hours with him while you were sleeping one night, preparing a game plan for the wolf’s ‘time of the month.’

As your night protector, Wonwoo had told Mingyu to go deep into the woods on the night of the full moon. If he was far enough away, the thought was that Mingyu would just stay in the forest, leaving you to your own devices for the night.

Even if Mingyu did make it to the house in his raged-out wolf form, Wonwoo would protect you, and Mingyu had given him permission to do so.

While Mingyu can transform at any time, full moons are the only transformations that are purely animalistic. All Mingyu is, his very soul, practically disappears. Full moons are when werewolves are at their most dangerous, but Wonwoo is confident in his strategies after spending years helping Seungcheol through his dark side.

Cheol had always spent the day after full moons passed out in the woods somewhere, his body recuperating from a mind/body disconnection of that caliber. Once a month, Wonwoo would do a double shift, and you’d spend the day resting with him in blacked-out rooms. 

The two of you get through many books, and when you’re hungry, Wonwoo lets you head down to the kitchen for no more than ten minutes just to grab leftovers. 

It’s a decent set up, and Wonwoo enjoys getting to be with you for a lengthy period. However, the night after the full moon, when you go to sleep, Wonwoo leaves you to head into the forest. Mingyu, like Seungcheol had been, is not hard to find. His scent is overwhelming, and Wonwoo discovers the large man asleep in a bed of moss.

Wonwoo’s no stranger to nudity, not after dealing with Seungcheol, so he simply bends down, lifting Mingyu onto his shoulders.

‘This is just a professional courtesy,’ the vampire tells himself as he takes Mingyu back to the house, gently lowering him into the tub. 

Mingyu’s covered in dirt, and blood too- if his entire being wasn’t tainted by the scent of dog, Wonwoo might actually be tempted to go in for a bite, but the thought of drinking from Mingyu makes Wonwoo’s nose scrunch as he turns on the water.

Wolves can handle heat, and Mingyu groans a little, shifting in the tub. The bathroom begins to fill with steam and Wonwoo finds a wash cloth. He coats the fabric in body wash, and then, with a sigh, Wonwoo begins to wash Mingyu.

The wolf’s arms are especially dirty, so Wonwoo starts with those, and little by little, Mingyu begins to regain consciousness.

Then, all at once, the werewolf is thrashing awake, pulling his arm away from Wonwoo. “What-”

“Relax, you had a particularly bad change last night,” Wonwoo sighs, putting the wash cloth down.

“Were you just…” Mingyu’s confused gaze dips down to the discarded cloth, “washing me?”  

“You smell terrible,” Wonwoo states bluntly. “Seungcheol had a habit of coming home from full moons and just getting into bed. We don’t have staff here, and I refuse to have ruined sheets, or change the laundry schedule.”

There are definitely factual, logical reasons for Wonwoo taking care of Mingyu, and without those reasons, Wonwoo would never dream of bathing a dog. But… Mingyu has been a good addition to your protection detail. He’s substantially more respectful than Seungcheol had been. He’s clean, and he cooks, and the kitchen is always spotless after he makes you meals. 

While Wonwoo respected Seungcheol, the vampire, as much as he hates to admit it to himself, somewhat enjoys the young prodigy wolf.

Wonwoo doesn’t respect the clumsy, gentle giant, not by any means, but perhaps, the vampire is starting to realize, there’s more to judging someone than just by their ability and enthusiasm for violence.

Seven: 

You’re sitting in a field of flowers, and the colors are wonderous. The sun is out, and the dress you’re wearing has the perfect amount of flow to it as you lounge on your picnic blanket. 

You lean back, releasing a deep sigh, and that’s when a hand drags up your arm.

You turn to see your vampire protector and your heart leaps in your chest. “Wonwoo! The sun!”

“The sun doesn’t matter anymore,” he shakes his head. “You cured me, remember?”

“I did?”

“The potion,” Wonwoo grins, leaning forward, his lips ghosting over your throat. “You cured me of my affliction to the sun.”

Confusion is bubbling inside of you, but as Wonwoo begins to kiss your neck, the confusion dies down. Your fingers thread in his hair. “I did cure you,” you muse, giving in to the feeling of him. 

“We found the recipe in the book, at the house.”

“The house,” you murmur. 

“Which house was it again? I can’t remember.”

He doesn’t remember the house? That’s odd. Wonwoo remembers everything-

A distant voice draws your attention. It’s calling your name, and it sounds so familiar-

“Tell me where you are,” Wonwoo urges.

“We’re in a field?”

“Tell me where you are,” the vampire repeats, his hand wrapping around your throat, squeezing painfully. When you look into his eyes, they’re completely black, and your heart leaps in your chest. Horns grow out of his head, and a moment later, it’s no longer Wonwoo in front of you, it’s a demon.

“Y/N, wake up!” a booming voice tears you away, and suddenly, you’re not in the field anymore. Your eyes snap open and you sit up abruptly, heart still racing in your chest. 

You feel arms wrap around you, and you realize it’s Wonwoo, the real Wonwoo. 

“I had the strangest dream,” you breathe, still trying to make sense of the whole thing.

“It was an incubus,” Wonwoo tells you. “I could sense that he’d entered your mind.”

“He was trying to find out where we are, to see if I’d made the Daylighter potion yet,” you whisper.

“Did you tell him anything?” Your vampire protector freezes next to you.

“No.” You shake your head. “I didn’t say anything.”

You hear someone release a breath, and you look up to find a frazzled Mingyu standing there. His hair is messy from sleep, and he’s shirtless, wearing only a pair of boxers. “What the fuck is an incubus?”

“Incubi are above your pay grade,” Wonwoo states simply, holding you closer. “Demons don’t generally get involved with lower levels like us, but the Daylighter potion would disrupt their system.”

“Right,” Mingyu nods, but you can tell he doesn’t fully understand. “Anyways, are we good? You’re good?” He approaches you, holding out a hand.

You grab his extended palm, squeezing gently. “I’m okay.”

As your heart stops racing, your body begins to focus on a different feeling.

It had been an incubus in your dream, and incubi feed off of one thing: sexual energy.

You suddenly feel very hot, in bed, between Mingyu and Wonwoo- God, you’d woken up from a nightmare only to find yourself in your best daydream.

Wonwoo stiffens beside you, and Mingyu’s grip on your hand tightens, his pupils visibly blowing in size. 

Can they… sense that you’re horny?

Fuck… can they smell it with their God damned super senses?

You suddenly feel like a bunny caught between two predators, but for some reason, you’re not actually scared. Both men have the capacity for violence, but you know, in your heart of hearts, that they would never, ever hurt you. 

“We should let her sleep,” Wonwoo says, voice low.

He begins to pull away but you cling tighter to him, your grip increasing on Mingyu’s hand too.

“No,” you breathe, swallowing thickly to get rid of the lump in your throat. “I uh… Don’t go.”

“Y/N,” Wonwoo warns, “This could end badly.”

“At this point, I don’t care,” you admit. The vampire looks at you for a few seconds, and you can tell he’s trying to get a read on your emotions. You cup his cheek with your free hand. “This is long overdue.”

Wonwoo stares at you, and for a moment, you think he’s going to pull away, but then, he leans forward, pressing his lips to yours for the very first time. He’s kissing you softly, showing a gentleness that you hadn’t quite expected.

You release a groan immediately, shifting closer-

Mingyu tugs in your hand. “I’ll just leave.”

You break your kiss with Wonwoo, turning to look at the wolf in the room. “Don’t go,” you whimper. “I want both of you.” 

You catch Mingyu’s gaze shifting to Wonwoo uncertainly, and you feel the vampire tense at your side.

“Both of us?” Wonwoo asks, voice shockingly level considering what you’d just suggested.

“Both,” you repeat, nodding. “I just- I don’t know, you’re both my protectors. I feel like, if I only slept with one of you, it would throw off the dynamic.”

“So you want us both… for the dynamic?” Wonwoo clarifies.

“That sounds horrible,” you groan. “I’m still sleepy- look, I’m attracted to both of you, I care about you both in different ways. Please don’t make me choose.”

You watch Mingyu and Wonwoo exchange a look again, but this time Wonwoo sighs and Mingyu shrugs.

“I won’t step on your toes,” Mingyu promises, addressing the vampire.

Wonwoo releases another exasperated breath. “If anyone knew I was agreeing to share a bed with a dog-”

“He’s a werewolf, don’t be rude,” you chastize, nudging Wonwoo in the ribs.

“Dude, you’ve already seen me naked,” Mingyu points out, and your heart nearly lurches out of your chest.

“What?”

“He carried me in the other night, after the full moon. I woke up in the bath and he was practically grooming me.”

Your eyes shift to Wonwoo in shock and he downplays it with a shrug. “I told you, I don’t like dirt on the sheets.”

“Well, I’m pretty sure we’re about to make a mess of this bedding,” Mingyu says, voice lowering as he steps closer. 

“I don’t care,” you breathe. “Enough talk.”

“Whatever you say, princess,” Mingyu grins, leaning down and grabbing your jaw. He brings his lips to yours and you immediately groan, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck. He’s so warm and big, there’s a muskiness to his scent, but it doesn’t remind you of dog. It reminds you of the forest, of sanctuary, and it makes you lean in even more as Mingyu kisses your breath away.

Wonwoo shifts beside you, his hands fanning up and down your arms, then, you feel a second set of lips on your shoulder.

Your sleeping shirt has shifted down a little, allowing Wonwoo to have full access to your skin. Each cold kiss is a contrast to Mingyu’s warmth, and it makes you shiver between your two large protectors.

It seems Wonwoo’s the one with less patience out of the two men, which is something you’re not expecting as he grabs the hem of your shirt, slowly lifting it off your body.

You’d not been wearing a bra to bed, and your nipples pebble at the cool air of the room when they’re newly exposed. You groan when two hands grab your breasts, one hot, one cold. It seems both men have a thing for tits, and you can’t say you’re mad about it as they begin to massage you, drawing even more sounds of pleasure from your lips.

It’s Wonwoo who pinches your nipple first and you gasp against Mingyu’s mouth, breaking the kiss to turn and look at Wonwoo over your shoulder. He kisses you deeply, his free hand grabbing the back of your head to draw you close.

You get so lost in Wonwoo that you don’t realize Mingyu has adjusted until wet, hot lips wrap around one of your nipples.

You whimper loudly, pulling away from Wonwoo to look down at Mingyu. His eyes are closed and he groans as he begins to suck diligently on your sensitive bud, his tongue lapping at you in a way you’ve never quite experienced. 

“Shit,” you moan, threading your fingers through Mingyu’s hair.

“I’m getting tired of his smell,” Wonwoo sighs beside you. “I know a way to cover it up.”

Mingyu pulls off your nipple, confusion written on his face.

“You both trust me, right?” the vampire asks, looking between you and the wolf.

“Yes?” you offer, not sure what else to say.

“Y/N, lay on the edge of the bed, Mingyu you’re on the ground below,” Wonwoo instructs.

You exchange a glance with Mingyu, but he shrugs, following through. Wonwoo helps you to the edge of the bed, adjusting so he’s behind you, your smaller body between his legs, ensnared.

“Take her shorts off,” Wonwoo instructs, and Mingyu’s even quicker to follow through with that command than the first.

You release a shuddery breath as your silky shorts are dragged down your legs, leaving you completely exposed to the two men.

Wonwoo’s hand wraps around your body, his fingers seeking out your clit.

You groan as he begins to stroke the sensitive bud, his lips tracing kisses along your throat. “Be good for us,” Wonwoo warns, his digits easily pushing into your wet core.

You whimper, shifting in his embrace. Wonwoo’s free hand braces across your chest, grabbing your breast and pinching at your nipple.

A quiver shakes through your thighs, and when you look down at Mingyu, you find him watching each movement with extreme interest.

Two of Wonwoo’s fingers begin to work open your pussy, and he begins to crook them up toward your gspot, making your legs shake even more.

“Have you ever squirted before?” Wonwoo asks, breath hot along your ear.

It feels so odd to be hearing him speak to you in this context, but at the same time, it feels so right. 

“I’ve never-” you shake your head, swallowing thickly as your words get caught in your throat.

“Good, then we’ll be your first,” Wonwoo smirks against your neck. “You’ll feel pressure, don’t try to fight it, just let your body do what it’s going to do, okay?”

“Okay.” You nod. 

Wonwoo presses one more kiss to your shoulder before his hand begins to move again. He expertly thrusts his fingers up to that special spot, and within seconds you can hear the wetness of your pussy with each movement. 

Mingyu gets closer, and he’s on his knees now. He’s looking between your pussy, your breasts and your face, as if he can’t quite decide what to focus on.

“Gonna squirt on your wolf, make him smell like you, mark him the way wolves usually mark their mates,” Wonwoo tells you, his voice low in your ear.

You whimper at his words, skin beginning to tingle as pleasure unlike anything else builds in the pit of your stomach. 

“Rub your clit for me,” Wonwoo commands next. “I think you’re just about ready for it.”

Your hand is shaking as you bring it between your thighs, gently drawing circles on your sensitive bud as Wonwoo continues to work your pussy, his motions getting even faster, and harder-

You groan desperately, throwing your head back against Wonwoo’s shoulder as a powerful release overtakes you. It’s like a pressure on your abdomen, but it’s so delightful at the same time, your body overwhelmed by it all.

You can’t open your eyes, can’t do anything but rub your clit as Wonwoo makes you feel something you’ve never felt.

You’re aware of a wetness between your thighs, but you can’t bring yourself to care as Wonwoo continues to work the pleasure out of you.

Finally, he’s tearing his fingers out of you, only to land a gentle smack to your pussy that has you yelping and shaking.

The moment his hand is gone, it’s replaced with a mouth, and your entire body jolts, eyes snapping open to see Mingyu between your thighs. He grabs at you, keeping you steady as his tongue pushes into your tight pussy, lapping at the walls that Wonwoo had just ravaged with his fingers.

The werewolf sucks your clit into his mouth and your body shakes, chest heaving-

Squirting hadn’t felt like an orgasm per se, it had been an entirely unique experience. It was pleasurable, and amazing, but the build up hadn’t been like that of a vibrator or the like- but what Mingyu’s doing to you is familiar. You can feel the coil tightening in the pit of your stomach as he ravages your pussy.

You love how messy he’s being, how sloppy- his tongue is everywhere, in the best possible way.

“Gyu-” you whimper, reaching one hand down to tangle in his hair. You don’t want him to move, don’t want him to go anywhere- your muscles are already tensing in anticipation of the orgasm he’s going to give you, and you’ll be damned if you miss out on it.

“He feels good?” Wonwoo asks in your ear. 

“So good.”

“I’ll give it to the wolf, he knows how to eat.”

There’s something about the deepness of Wonwoo’s voice, the sinful context of what he’s saying- it’s the last straw you need to fall over the edge. Your muscles tense incredibly tight before snapping, pleasure flowing through you like a river.

“Fuck!” you whimper, beginning to thrash- only for both men to hold you down. It’s clear they’re not going to let you run away from the feeling, and they keep you where they want you while Mingyu eats you through your high.

Your entire body is on fire with the pleasure, and you can feel it in every fiber of your being. It’s all consuming, in the best way.

You’re crying by the time Mingyu releases you, pulling away from your pussy. He stares up at you with dark eyes, and when he stands, you notice your squirt dripping down his chest. He’s covered in you, in your scent, and you realize why Wonwoo had wanted foreplay to be like this. Now, all either of them will smell is you, and you think they prefer it this way.

“How are we going to do this?” Mingyu asks, voice gruff, his cock straining against his boxers.

“We’ll take turns,” Wonwoo says factually, beginning to massage your breasts again. “As much as I think we’d all enjoy double penetration, I don’t want to break her. That’s something we’ll have to work up to.”

Mingyu nods. “Turns.”

“I’ll go first,” Wonwoo sighs, kissing your throat. “I’m not as into a mess as you are.”

Mingyu groans, but he doesn’t fight it.

“Because you’re both being good,” the vampire continues, “y/n, you can straddle Mingyu and I’ll fuck you from behind while you both toy with each other.”

“Please be fast,” Mingyu begs, “I don’t know how much I can hold off.”

“You’ll have to,” Wonwoo counters. “Only good dogs get treats.”

An expression blooms across the werewolf features, it’s a mix of lust, annoyance and confusion. You can tell he’s turned on by what Wonwoo just said, but there’s a lack of connection between the feeling, and the logistics that are probably running through Mingyu’s mind.

Unlocking new kinks is always confusing, but that’s not something you dwell on as you becon Mingyu to get onto the bed.

He lays down and you’re quick to grab his boxers, dragging them down in record speed.

Fuck, Mingyu’s huge- it makes you drool. “I want to suck him off,” you whimper.

Mingyu groans deeply. “Fuck.”

“You can do whatever you want,” Wonwoo coos as you get into position, on your knees, looking down at Mingyu’s massive cock. 

You grab the base, pumping it gently and looking up at Mingyu, who shifts desperately against the sheets.

He grabs the blanket, and you can tell he’s already close- you kind of love having this power over him. If the act of eating you out is enough to make him close to exploding- well, you wonder what sucking him off will do.

Two hands smooth across your ass, and then you feel Wonwoo’s cock swiping between your pussy lips. 

“Fuck,” Mingyu groans, threading his fingers through your hair. “Can you… can you put it in your mouth?”

“You better not cum down her throat without asking permission first,” Wonwoo warns.

“I won’t, fuck, I won’t,” Mingyu whimpers, guiding you gently to his cock.

You lick at the head of it first, getting a better gauge for his size.

Mingyu shakes beneath you, hips twitching. You can sense he’s at war with himself, part of him clearly wants to apply pressure to your head and force you to take him, but another part is trying to be respectful of you. You wonder if this clash between animalistic and human sides is a result of the recent full moon-

Wonwoo’s cock slips into your wet core and you groan deeply, sinking more of your mouth onto Mingyu, who echoes your sound of pleasure.

You begin to suck on the werewolf’s tip as Wonwoo starts to slowly thrust into you, giving you more and more of his cock until he’s flush to your ass.

“That’s it,” Wonwoo groans, grabbing your hips. “Taking us both so good.”

The praise makes your entire body vibrate with energy, and you moan around Mingyu’s cock, sucking him deeper into your mouth until he’s practically hitting the back of your throat.

“Fuck, fuck-” Mingyu is straining now and you can feel it.

“Almost looks like boytoy is going to pop before he even gets a chance at your pussy,” Wonwoo chuckles.

“No!” Mingyu blurts, “I’ll be good, just, fuck, hurry up!”

Wonwoo might not be the nicest in bed, but you are, and you pull off Mingyu’s cock, stroking it. “Take some breaths,” you tell him, resting your cheek against his thigh.

Mingyu begins to take audible gasps as he focuses on slowing himself down. You stroke him languidly, taking your time as Wonwoo’s pace increases behind you.

“You’re too nice to him,” Wonwoo groans, gripping your hips harder as he rails into you.

“Fuck, one of us has to be,” you whimper, closing your eyes so you can focus on the pleasure that’s beginning to surge through you.

“This isn’t good cop bad cop,” Wonwoo points out.

“True, but I’m also not a sadistic dom like you are,” you fire back with a moan.

You hear Wonwoo chuckle. “I guess that’s true.”

He adjusts slightly, and now, each thrust has him hitting a spot deep inside of you. “Kind of want you to cum again,” Wonwoo admits. “Can you do that for me?”

“I don’t-”

“Three times isn’t that bad,” Wonwoo points out. “Besides, Mingyu’s going to pop the moment he’s inside of you, so it’s not like he’ll make you cum.”

That’s a very good point, you realize, and you slip your hand between your thighs, rubbing your clit.

Your pussy clenches tight around Wonwoo from the stimulus and you both groan. 

“That’s it,” Wonwoo breathes. “Squeezing me so well.”

Mingyu groans above you, Wonwoo’s dirty talk doing as much to turn him on as you.

“Rub harder,” Wonwoo commands, and you do as you’re told, whimpering from how good it feels. “Mingyu, tell her how good she is, the sooner she cums, the sooner you cum.”

“Fuck, baby, you’re so good!” Mingyu blurts out immediately. “Your mouth, your hand- fuck, I can’t imagine how your pussy is going to feel, oh my god-”

His hand flexes in the bed sheets and Wonwoo chuckles.

“Cum for us, please, I need to feel you,” Mingyu begs desperately. 

Your core is throbbing from his words, throbbing from how well Wonwoo is fucking you.

“She’s close,” the vampire muses. “Her perfect pussy is just sucking me right back in.”

Mingyu lets out a strangled sound, and the noise is enough to throw you over the edge.

Nothing in your life has ever been as sexy as this moment. Two strong men, one begging and whining while the other dominates. You, caught between them both, the source of their torment and their pleasure. They’re opposites, in temperament as well as being, after all, werewolves and vampires have historically never gotten along- but they agree about you, and right now, that’s all that matters. 

Your core clamps down on Wonwoo’s cock, squeezing him desperately as your orgasm overcomes you.

Your hand motion on Mingyu’s cock stops, body too overcome by the feeling of cumming to pay attention to anything else.

Moans and whimpers escape you, your eyes clenched shut as waves of pleasure surge through your body. Wonwoo fucks you through it, and then he releases a small gasp, his thrusts coming to a stop. You can feel his cum filling you up as he gives three more shallow efforts of movement.

You’re both breathing hard, and before you can even fully recuperate, Mingyu’s tugging at you. “My turn,” he says desperately.

Wonwoo laughs, and you can only whimper as one cock pulls out of you. Mingyu is quick to drag you up his body, and then, his own length is entering your core, stretching out your pussy unlike anything you’ve ever felt.

You moan desperately, burying your face against Mingyu’s throat. 

“I’ve got you,” he says, wrapping his arms around you as he begins to fuck up into you. “Fuck, so good, shit-”

He’s definitely not going to last long, so you do your best to focus on how good he feels. You can’t even bring yourself to care that his chest is sticky and covered in your squirt, in fact, the sinful aspect kind of turns you on even more.

Your core is still throbbing from your orgasm with Wonwoo, and each time your pussy contracts around the new, large intrusion, Mingyu gasps. His breath is hot against your throat, arms strong around your body as he holds you, fucking up into you like a wild man.

“Shit, shit, shit-”

“Cum for me,” you tell him, nuzzling against his jaw. “You’ve been a good boy, let go.”

Mingyu releases a strangled sound, and then he’s squeezing you tight, filling your pussy completely as he cums deep inside of you.

It feels good in his embrace. You’re not being crushed, instead, it feels like a protective weighted blanket, and he’s so warm too- God, you could fall asleep right like this, right now, his massive cock still buried to the hilt in your wet, throbbing pussy.

Mingyu’s heart is racing in his chest, and you’re both breathing heavily, but slowly he releases you.

“Take her to the shower, I’ll clean this all up,” Wonwoo’s voice draws you out of your daze.

“Can’t we just sleep?” Mingyu groans.

“You werewolves and the most unclean people I’ve ever met,” Wonwoo snaps, and you feel Mingyu sink beneath you, dejected.

“Come on, Gyu, a shower would be nice,” you encourage him, pressing kisses against his throat.

“Okay,” Mingyu sighs.

He stands a moment later, cradling you in his arms as he takes you to the bathroom. The two of you begin to wash each other, careful of all the cum. He’s so soft with you, so gentle, and you’ve never been this relaxed.

When you’re both clean, you go back to your room, collapsing onto your bed. Wonwoo sits on one side of you, Mingyu on the other. The werewolf tugs you to his chest, being your big spoon while your hand is in Wonwoo’s lap.

“Sleep with us,” you urge him.

“I can’t, but you two should get some rest,” Wonwoo sighs.

You’re so exhausted you can’t even find it within yourself to argue, and moments later, you’re falling asleep, basking in the warmth of the man behind you, and the comfort of your vampire protector watching guard. 

Eight: 

Wonwoo’s thoughts are turbulent as you and Mingyu sleep next to him. The sex had been amazing, and shockingly enough, Wonwoo hadn’t quite minded having the werewolf there. It’s clear that Mingyu is good for you, and at the end of the day, your wellbeing trumps Wonwoo’s own possessive tendencies.

He’s not one to dwell on things, so Wonwoo reaches for the ancestral diary on your bedside table. It’s not a recipe or spell book, so you’ve not spent a lot of time going through it, but Wonwoo just need something to distract himself. 

It’s only hours later when Wonwoo comes across a specific passage that makes him stop. It’s the first mention of the Daylighter potion he’s seen anywhere, and he continues to read, eager for the recipe.

‘The potion was supposed to cure sun affliction, and it did, but the concoction did more than that. It cured the vampirism as a whole. My protector, my guardian, now but a man. Powerless as a babe, but as fierce as he’s ever been. No other vampire would want this, so I’ve torn out the page with the ingredients. This potion, perhaps, is best left in history. No one should have the power to cure vampirism, least of all the witches. This could shift the tides in a war that’s been lasting centuries. The witches should not have this power, nor should the wolves or the demons. No one should have this power. The Daylighter potion was a success, but it was also the worst thing I’ve ever created. May the Goddess forgive me for this abuse of power.’

Wonwoo rereads the passage five times before he puts the book aside, trying to steady himself.

This whole time- they’d assumed the potion would cure a vampire’s weakness to sun. No one ever considered that the Daylighter potion might cure vampirism all together.

Wonwoo had wanted the potion so he could protect you day or night, but how could he protect you if he was a mortal?

If he was a mortal… if he was like you and Mingyu, could he grow old with you?

But… what use would growing old with you be if he could never keep you safe?

Wonwoo’s overcome with emotion as he stares down at you and Mingyu.

This was never an outcome he’d expected, and he’s not sure how you’ll react. 

The vampire decides not to tell you about this information. He decides to simply be there for you as long as you want him. He decides to let you sleep, unburdened by the discovery he’s just made. And finally, Wonwoo decides that you are more important than him being a Daylighter. He’ll choose the eternal night with you over the sunshine, and it’s his own choice to make.

Wonwoo doesn’t know who he is if he’s not your protector, so he decides that’s exactly what he’ll continue to be.

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! I love working on fics that center on these two, and It was so fun to write their dynamic :) Thanks again for supporting me this year, and I can't wait to see you guys in 2025!

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🔮 preview. You’ve learned new spells and potions, but your education in a more sexual nature has grown too. Being with two men has its own learning curve, and you’ve been a more than willing student.

cw/ tw.  Unprotected sex, double penetration, anal, oral, pussy eating, spanking, praise, dirty talk, degradation, mentions of porn, threesome, pussy stretching, breast worship, overstim, multiple reader orgasms, etc…  

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.9k I teaser wc. 120

🌙 starring. Wonwoo & Mingyu x afab!Reader

bonus

It’s been four months of living in a house full of books, but it’s been two months since Wonwoo revealed to you the truth about the Daylighter potion. 

It has been hard to accept at first, and many night had been spent discussing it with Wonwoo. Your vampire protector has stood firm on his opinions, and you’ve had to accept the fact that he wants to continue to be immortal, not only for you, but for himself.

Wonwoo isn’t the oldest vampire ever, but he’s by no means the youngest either. You can’t really imagine him going back to a human form, to lose his strength and speed- no, he’ll continue to be a vampire, and the Daylighter potion has been pushed aside, no longer a priority.

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[polaritydisturbed]

I’ve seen some posts floating around saying things like, “Belinda was always a mom, the Doctor just corrected the timeline,” and I genuinely cannot stress enough how little that addresses the core issues people have with how her story was handled.

First of all, if that was the intention—if the idea was that Belinda was always meant to be a mother and the timeline just needed to be “set right”—they did a poor job of executing it. A twist that major, one that fundamentally alters a character’s identity or arc, requires setup. Foreshadowing. Emotional groundwork. You can’t just spring something that massive on the audience in the last five minutes and expect it to feel meaningful instead of disorienting.

And here’s the thing: Doctor Who has done that kind of plot before—successfully. A great comparison is Amy and Rory. The show literally did the “someone you love was erased from time and the universe needs to be corrected to bring them back” storyline already. And while I’ve got my own qualms with how Amy’s arc was handled overall, that particular beat actually worked.

Why? Because there were signs. The cracks in time. The missing memories. A sense of loss Amy couldn’t place. Little inconsistencies that made the audience lean forward and feel that something was wrong. Not to mention: Rory was introduced before he disappeared. We knew him. We saw his dynamic with Amy. We cared about him. We barely see Poppy in these two episodes, other than "child missing bad" we really have no attachment to her.

Now imagine if we never met Rory. If Amy had been introduced as a fierce, independent woman with no attachments, someone whose refusal to be tied down was a defining trait—and then the show suddenly revealed, in the finale, that actually she was about to get married the whole time to a man we’d never seen, and now she’s a devoted wife. No buildup. No context. Just surprise! emotional transformation. That would feel bizarre, right?

That’s exactly what happened with Belinda.

The final minutes of the finale reframe her not just as someone who once had a child, but as someone whose true self is supposedly defined by that role—and we’re meant to believe that this identity has now been “restored” to her, and we’re told it’s been restored to her as a reward. But it doesn’t feel like a revelation. It feels like a contradiction.

It’s like they wanted to write her as fierce and independent, but didn’t also want to imply that she wanted kids or thought about kids—because society still tends to associate maternal longing or caretaking instincts with weakness, or with not being a “strong” woman. So instead of exploring that complexity, they just didn’t. They wrote her as a fully autonomous character, with no visible yearning or absence, and then stapled a child onto her arc at the end.

And just to be absolutely clear: the problem is not that Belinda is a mother. You can write a fierce, independent, female-presenting character who’s also a parent. Those things are not mutually exclusive. The problem is that the story didn’t earn it.

Writers often avoid giving powerful women maternal traits because they assume femininity and strength can’t coexist—but that’s a separate conversation. The real issue here is that the show never showed us that this part of Belinda was missing. It never laid the groundwork for that emotional restoration to resonate. It didn’t feel like they revealed who she truly was—it felt like they replaced her with someone else.

It’s not that you can’t tell a story where a forgotten child or a missing family is recovered from a broken timeline. That kind of emotional twist can be powerful. But if that’s the story you want to tell, you have to earn it. You have to make the absence felt before you try to fill it. You have to let us sense the missing piece and ache for its return. Without that, it doesn’t feel like a twist—it feels like a contradiction.

And no, Poppy showing up once in The Story & the Engine is not proper setup. If this was truly the intended arc from the beginning, then it needed clues. Give us subtle signs. Let Belinda hesitate when asked simple questions. Let her glance at a photo and seem unsettled. Let her correct someone’s memory and then immediately second-guess herself. Plant a sense of wrongness in her own life that even she can’t quite name.

There’s even a interview with RTD about reshooting the beginning of The Robot Revolution to give Belinda roommates, because he thought no one would buy her owning an entire house by herself.

But if this twist with Poppy was truly planned from the start? Then leave her in that big, echoing house. Let it be part of the unease. Let there be a child’s toy tucked into the back of a drawer she doesn’t remember buying. A room she avoids, too pristine and untouched. A lullaby she hums under her breath without knowing where she learned it. Give us texture. Give us silence that feels too quiet.

Let us feel the shape of what’s missing before you tell us what it was.

That’s how you write a twist that resonates—by trusting your audience to notice the gaps, to feel the ache, and to recognize the truth when it finally appears. Not by pulling a rabbit out of a hat and calling it destiny.

[ghostfacesvalentine]

Princess treatment only - MultiMuse x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Multimuse x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Not many, some mentions of killing, but nothing graphic. Kind of fluffy

Type: HC’s

Request: N/A

Word Count: N/A

Prompt: Some HC’s as to how the muses would give the reader the princess treatment.

Notes: I don’t know where I was going with this, but this is mainly fluff, maybe sometime I’ll spice it up. I just had to get my writing juice brewing. Not proofread at all just go.

Jason Voorhees: Honestly, would treat you like a princess regardless. Will pick flowers for you when he’s outside. Always lets you borrow his flannels. Always walks in front of you to make sure there’s no danger, but looks back constantly to make sure there’s no danger behind you?? lmao. You won’t ever have to lift a finger when you’re with him. Literally at your beck and call. Will try his best not to kill in front of you, but sometimes it just ?? happens lol. Tries to be soft when touching you because you’re literally the most perfect thing that has ever crossed his path.

Michael Myers: Is your literal bodyguard. Will follow you anywhere and everywhere, you might as well call him your shadow. Lets you hug him and climb onto his lap whenever. Won’t hug you back yet, working on it. Nobody comes near you, no exceptions. Sorry. Stares at you most of the time. Can’t say it, but you’re literally flawless to him. Will use his body as a shield for you. Would kill anything for you. Eventually learns to put his palm against your cheek and that’s his second greatest accomplishment, the first being bagging you, literally and figuratively.

Tiffany Valentine: You won’t ever have to worry about a thing when you’re with her. Always gets her hands dirty for you. Lots of cheek and neck kisses. Praises your looks all the time. She will always brag about you whether it’s what you do, how you look, anything and everything. She would always make sure you have the latest clothes. She’d make sure you always had your staple make up pieces available. When it comes to killing, she’d get creative, that way you guys will never have literal blood on your hands, especially you, never you.

Billy Loomis: Lots of nicknames. Kinda only has a soft spot for you. Can never ever tell you no and stick to it. Won’t hesitate to kill anyone who makes fun of him for this. Drives you everywhere. Ties your shoes. Always makes time for you. Will help you pick out your outfits and tell you which one he likes and which one he doesn’t. Will wear the bracelets you make him. Anything in his closet is yours, help yourself. Always touching you, holding your hand, holding your waist, you’ve infatuated him enough to have him carelessly cover you in soft kisses, laying his head on your shoulder. Kinda creative with dates tbh.

Stu Macher: You will forever be his princess. Will carry you across puddles. Lots of cheek and forehead kisses. Would learn how to paint your nails for you during class. Always makes sure you have a good grade on your exam, whether he has to swap out the papers after class or make sure you get the right answers, you can absolutely count on him. You don’t have to use your brain around him, no worries. Thinks you look adorable in his sweaters, especially oversized. Loves when you sit on his lap. Prioritizes you over anything and everything. Even if you don’t like horror movies, Stu would absolutely find something else for you to watch.

Patrick Bateman: Honestly, when he falls in love with you, it’s princess treatment only. Will give you a skin care routine and help you follow through with it. Kind of makes you feel dumb, but not like a stupid dumb, more like a ‘oh dear sweet baby you are a little dumb but pretty, but dumb, let me help you’ Same thing if you fall asleep with your makeup on, Patricks on the way with the micellar makeup remover. Will speak up for you if you don’t like a service, he won’t be mean about it unless he has to. Always makes sure you’re hydrated (also part of your skin care routine). You will be a housewife/girlfriend. Feel free to splurge, you are his trophy princess after all. Will take you anywhere you want. Will make things up for you if he has to be at work late.

Leatherface: I don’t ever see a scenario where Bubba does not treat his s/o like a princess. It’s like part of the deal. Either way, expect wild flowers all the time. It’s his favorite thing to do for you. He even makes you a vase and makes sure your flowers are always fresh. Will literally die and kill for you without any hesitation. At his knees for you. Bubba will crawl to you across pins and needles if you asked him to. He’s always making sure you’re comfortable and safe, never hungry or in your mind for too long. Melts at your touch. Would learn how to dance just to dance to your favorite songs. Always gets awestruck with you.

Harley Quinn: Will absolutely take you anywhere you want, no matter how random it is. Always dazed when looking at you. Keeps pictures of you all dressed up in her bag or car or wherever she goes. Selina gave her a heart shaped locket once and yeah, you guessed it, the cutest picture of you is in there. Doesn’t hesitate to shoot any man for you. Leaves your face covered in red kisses. She would do anything to make you laugh. Anything you want, it’s yours! Just point at it.

Poison Ivy: Pamela will always spoil you, regardless of how you act. You’ve heard of people growing gardens for their s/o, she would grow forests for you. She’s the most gentle with you, gentle caresses and soft kisses. Paints your nails, brushes your hair while adding flowers into the locks. Always admires dressing you up and putting make up on you. Almost never wants you to leave. Slow dances with you. She’d do anything to keep you out of danger. You think Michael is a good bodyguard? Pamela is the bodyguard.

Bruce Wayne: hhnnnngh. Ok. No but you are the Princess Wayne. Spoiling you rotten goes without saying. Anything your little heart desires is yours. Helps you get dressed. His favorite is helping you with your stockings. Gentle kisses everywhere. Brushes your hair. Lifting you up constantly when there’s a crack in the pavement. Always the driver. Your safety is always first, always. No because whatever you want means whatever you want, which is why there are hello kitty plushies scattered across the Wayne manor. You’ve somehow managed to get your own cozy theater in there too. Princess treatment also means Bruce having to lay back just a teeny bit on Batman just to guard you too while you sleep.

Jason Todd: nmmnnmf YES. I don’t see him treating his s/o any other way. Lots of pet names. Loooves to help you get dressed. Sits you on the counter as he cooks. Never lets you out of his sight. Anything you want it’s yours. Always buying you cute socks and letting you wear his clothes. Forehead kisses. Oh man it’s so disgusting how much Jason loves his princess. Always taking pictures of you, no matter the angle. Would 1000000% tie bows into your hair if you asked.

Billy Hargrove: Honestly if he’s in love with you, princess treatment is granted. Always giving you his jackets, especially when you wear skirts or dresses out. Lifting you over mud and puddles. Subtle kisses on the head while you’re out. Body guard mode activated. He kinda becomes your shadow, appearing out of nowhere and greeting you with a kiss on the forehead. Ties your shoes without asking. Wiping any tears or smeared makeup off your face. Winks at you all the timeee.

Steve Harrington: Kind of similar to Stu, he always makes sure you pass your class. Poor princess doesn’t use her brain in school, too busy trying to stay awake. Always gives you his jacket, even if you don’t want to wear it, he’ll wrap it around you. Finds any excuse to carry you or pick you up. So affectionate. Kisses on the cheek, lips, forehead. Sometimes he will miss and kiss your eye but ugh it’s so fucking cute. Only has eyes for you. Tying your shoes, putting your socks on, literally just dressing you in general is a must. Literally will take you wherever you want, whenever. Drops everything when you call. Such a sucker with the nicknames for you.

Steve Rogers: Ugh another one. Think of him as a body guard who you get to kiss and sit on his lap. Always drops everything to make sure you’re okay. Cannot take his eyes off of you. So smooth with the reassurance. Kisses on the forehead constantly. Always tucks you in. Would help you bathe if you asked. Pulls you onto his lap every time you both sit down. Whatever you want, you’ll get. If he can’t do it, he’ll find a way. Cups your face in his hands when you cry, kisses your tears away. Ugh he’s your literal teddy bear, if you don’t like to be smothered? Pick another muse.

Bucky Barnes: Similar to Steve, he’s your shadow, but he’s a little more … upfront with it. He’s constantly wrapping an arm around you, eyeing anyone who’s eyeing you. He’s so gentle if you’re sensitive. Kissing your cheek is his favorite. Always lingering his fingertips around your crevices. Makes sure you’re never hungry. Always up before you are. Lets you sleep in. If you fight, he will never raise his voice at you. Ready to carry you if you’re too tired to keep walking around. Slow dances with you just because. He’s always worried for you, making sure you’re okay, you’re not sick or hungry. Pet names with him are a must.

Loki Laufeyson: Okkkk and in what situation did you ever think loki was not going to give you the princess treatment??? You are literal Princess Laufeyson. Though he, and Sebastian maybe, are the only ones who can probably, maybe, say no to you, if you pout enough maybe he’ll come to a compromise with you. He never wants to upset you though. Would literally wipe out a small world for you. Or a few. Ok even betray anyone for you. Always cleaning your smeared makeup, fixing your hair, wiping you because you spilled your drink. He’s so devoted to you, im going to throw up. He devours you with his eyes from a distance, you’re never leaving his sight.

Cloud Strife: Ugh ok. Literal bodyguard, as he’s hired to be at times. At your beck and call, though he’d never admit it. Such a sucker and can never say no to you. Though it may take time, he can start calling you ‘baby’ ‘sweet girl’ ‘love’ he’s so infatuated with you and doesn’t know how to handle it. Your safety is his priority. Always listens to you ramble on and on. Brings you flowers for no reason other than he was thinking of you. He’s such a sucker for you. Follows you everywhere.

Sebastian Michaelis: He’s probably the most tame out of everyone but that doesn’t mean he’s not a sucker. There are rules he’s willing to bend for you, literally willing to kill anyone that has the slightest interest in hurting you. Always makes sure you’re fed and if you want a sweet treat, he’s on it. Listens to you talk, even if it’s silly. Dances with you almost every night. He’s so graceful with it. Dressing you and feeding you is his favorite but he might throw in a few teases “poor sweet baby, you haven’t woken up yet to tell your left foot from your right” as you rub your eyes with the wrong shoes on. Of course he’s willing to help, even if he has the idea that you do this on purpose, he's more than happy to oblige.

Spencer Reid: Though his job wouldn’t encourage it, he still drops almost everything to answer you. Always finds a way to share time with his job and his attention to you. Reads to you all the time, whether in person or over the phone. He’s always making comparisons of you being the princess in most fictional stories that you both come across. He’s so gentle with you. Caresses your face all the time. You lay your head on his lap or sit on his lap as he reads away. Always making sure to keep up with your well-being before his own. Would 10000% pick up a habit of writing you little notes or picking flowers for you or taking Polaroids or something to remind you of your everlasting presence in his mind.

[mywritersmind]

YOUR INITIALS ON MY HAT - LN4

summary : lando doesn’t think his new hat fits him, so he gives it to you.

listen up : no warnings!! lando x piastri!reader

word count : 564

⋆｡‧˚⋆

I watch Lando and Oscar open up their presents, I can’t help but laugh as my cousin raises a brow at me, holding up his cowboy boots.

I cross my own boots at my ankles, smoothing down my white dress. “Oh cool, I like it!” Oscar grins at the cameras as Lando pulls a hat from the box.

It’s plain and white, Lando’s fingers trace over his initials at the back, smiling. “You’re turning full texan!” Oscar laughs, nodding to me.

“Yeah, Norris the hat really ties in with your mullet look.” Lando turns to look at me, shooting me a devastating smirk that makes my knees weak.

I never get to see Oscar outside of family gatherings which are usually in Australia where I rarely visit. He thought it was a perfect idea to invite me to COTA, knowing it was genuinely one of my dreams, I jumped at the opportunity.

Oscar struggles with his boots as Lando places the cowboy hat over his curls. He frowns when it doesn’t fit onto his head, “Think I might need your help, tex.” I've known this man for less than two days and he already has a nickname for me.

When I questioned it yesterday, he didn’t miss a beat, just struggled and said, “Tex as in texan.”

And now we’re here. He’s beckoning me over, I slip my phone in my jean jacket’s pocket and stand a bit on my toes to pull the day down correctly, “You wouldn’t last a day on a ranch.”

He just looks down at me, a smile on his face, “I would If I had you.” The way he says it makes all the heat in my body go to my cheeks, my hands still on his hat.

I give it an extra tug which he winces at, “Harsh, Tex, harsh.” His icy eyes narrow and I can’t help but smile.

“All better!” I step back, remembering we have an audience. He looks good. Like really good.

I was right, the mullet fits annoying well with the hat. He frowns still though, his hands adjusting the hat still, “Cool hat but…don’t think it’s for me.” His eyes move from me to my cousin.

Lando and I laugh at the same time, staring at Oscar who’s looking uncomfortable and stiff in his boots. “Wow, Osc! Shorts are bold!”

He looks up to me, his eyes narrowing. Lando shakes his head, “Please tell me those will become a new staple!”

A man with a camera snaps a photo of Lando, who’s photo I know will look funny because he blinked. He then turns to Oscar as Lando pulls the hat off his head.

I frown a bit at a hatless Lando, but I'm staring at his curls again so it’s not all bad. “Not a fan?” I motion to the hat.

“Nah… think it may look better on someone else.” He drops it right on my head, pulling it down over my hair.

It’s a bit big and he tilts it back so he can see my eyes, “I was right.” He smiles and I pretend like his soft words aren’t making my insides flip.

I barely realize that Oscar’s calling my name until Lando looks away from me, looking annoyed at my cousin “Come on, we’ve got this thing called racing to do!”

[dear-mimii]

ambessa x queen!reader

pairing! ambessa x wife!reader

about! are you the only person in that council who takes politics seriously? the stress really got to you this time…

cw! just fluff😚

word count! 504

an! what pictures could possibly match ambessa😭 anyways, a little fluff with ambessa is what we all need in life, right?? anyways… im also looking for suggestions, so feel free to send in asks!🫶🏽🫶🏽 also do y’all want me to make a master list??

gods, you swear some of these people could be utterly insufferable. usually, you didn’t mind sitting in for ambessa during council meetings. but my gods, you felt like the only competent person in there. a collection of warlords from the south western region of Noxus were basically in a muscle measuring competition, where for at least the last 15 minutes, they were arguing about whose weapon was the coolest? you were holding your head by the temples, rubbing circles in a futile attempt to calm yourself and unclench your jaw. finally, you balled your hand into a fist, slamming it on the table to get everyone’s attention.

through a clenched jaw, you spoke, “i do apologize for the interruption, but perhaps we should get back to the topic at hand?” your voice was strained, rising slightly with every syllable.

two of the warlords looked at each other in silence for a few seconds, before bursting out in boisterous laughter.

awarlord covered in furs, Marek, looked over at you and said, “looks like the wife isn’t just a paperweight after all! we all deeply apologize, we’ll get right back on track, hah!”

you just hated the way they belittled you, acting as if you were just a stand in for ambessa instead of a woman who is actually involved in politics. after a bit more laughing and muttered comments, the warlords eventually focused back on the meeting, albeit begrudgingly. you definitely wouldn’t say it went without a hitch, but nobody could control those brutes 100%.

back at home, you stripped out of your clothes without a second thought and changed into your usual comfort staples: a burgundy silk robe, loose black wool pants, and nothing else. you couldn’t be bothered. in the bathroom, you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror and immediately felt it—the tight pull of your hairstyle, like it had been clenched all day. you were already annoyed, already frustrated, and the tension headache it was giving you only made things worse. you didn’t even try to be gentle. you just started yanking out the rubber bands and hair ties, one by one, not caring if it hurt.

that’s when you caught ambessa’s gaze in the mirror. she had clearly just come home, still in her usual regal yet militaristic garb. ambessa stood in the mirror, watching your frenzied movements.

“…sweetheart.”

ambessa took a firm step, reaching for your hands and guiding them away from your hair. ambessa was never the best with expressing her love in words, but you never doubted her love and care for you. she took your hands in one of her own, rubbing over your knuckles with her calloused thumb.

“gods… what battlefield did you come from?” her eyes were wide with worry; not frenzied, but concerned.

ambessa brought one of your hands to her lips, letting it stay there for a long while before embracing you, gently pushing your chest against hers and stroking your hair.

“come now, you need relax for a bit.”

[pierregazly]

tying you to me ꨄ max verstappen

max verstappen x reader

warnings: sweet max, random coincidences to lovers trope, happy ending [wc: 4.3k]

[4 times] in which something coincidentally led back to max, and the [1 time] it turned out nothing was just a coincidence (in which everything has always tied max to you).

Time, curious time  Gave me no compasses, gave me no signs  Were there clues I didn't see? 

It felt like a never-ending nightmare. 

One thing after another, one bad day after another, one bad week after the next. It felt like it was never going to end. 

The person that was supposed to be that person, the man that was supposed to be forever, the person that was going to be standing at the end of the aisle... leaving with a simple apology and a ‘I’m sorry, it’s me, not you’... it was incomprehensible.  

It had been weeks, and you still couldn’t wrap your head around what had gone wrong. Was he telling the truth? Was it really him? Or was it you? Had you done something wrong? Had it been you that caused the blunder? The inevitable demise?  

Everyone had been adamant that it wasn’t you, it was so evident it wasn’t meant to be. Nothing connected to him, there were no signs pointing to him being the one, there was no inevitable connection. But even with those words of affirmation, it didn’t change the internal feelings, the internal heartbreak that felt like it was never going to end. 

All you ever wanted was that connection, that string, that feeling, that pulled you to another person, that proved they were the person meant to be for you. It was devastating to think back and know that it was so obvious, he just wasn’t that person. 

The coffee shop you currently sat in had become a morning staple after the last few weeks. After coming back to Monaco for a much-needed reprieve from the rest of the world, the little coffee shop nestled into the charming walls of Monte-Carlo had become a necessary distraction to the outside. 

The employees all knew you by name now, often passing by the table and inquiring about your day, inquiring about the book you were reading, or the work assignment shown on your computer screen. Always engaging in polite conversation back, it was one of your favourite places to be. 

People-watching was the only negative of it. The loving couples who passed through, all cuddled up together as they ordered their drinks for their walk throughout the city, the older couples who sat just tables away and reminisced on their lives together. It was the only thing that drove you crazy about the charming little shop.  

Watching them occupied your thoughts more time’s than you cared to admit. Daydreaming and losing focus on the outside world was a commonality, especially in the little coffee shop. 

It was exactly where you found yourself currently, your eye’s peering to the left as you watched an older man place his hand over who you assumed to be his wife’s hand. Their wedding bands shining brightly in the Monaco sun, soft smiles on their faces as they peered at one another, your heart begging to be let out of this turmoil, begging you to turn away and focus on something else, anything else. 

Its wish was granted when you felt the cold of a drink begin to sink into your shirt, instantly soaking your skin, a gasp of shock falling from your lips. 

“Oh god, I am so sorry. I just turned around and you were right there, let me grab some cloths, please.” 

You knew instantly it was your own fault, you hadn’t been paying attention, more focused on the elderly couple, prompting the person in front of you to spill their... was that Red Bull? On your shirt? 

“Is this Red Bull?”  

The man in front of you grimaced as he handed you the dry cloths, a small smile falling across his lips while his eyes crinkled with the movement of his face. A bit of a cute look, you thought to yourself while beginning to dab at your shirt as the smell of the energy drink wafted up your nose. 

“Yes, I’m so sorry. I don’t drink coffee often, but my sister wanted to stop here because she had heard good things, I was just waiting for her drink while she took a quick call outside. I really only drink Red Bull in public when I have to, or when I’m getting paid to. I thought it was her behind me when I whipped around like that, I’m so sorry. Please, can I buy you a coffee as an apology? Or a tea?” 

You weren’t entirely sure if the rambling was out of nerves that you were going to overreact over the spilt drink, or if he just simply felt like he owed it to you to explain the entire incident and how it came about in full description. 

The frustration that was brewing was not at all a fault of the cute man in front of you, but an accumulation of days of sadness, an irregular appetite, and just a combination of heartbreak. 

Trying to keep the tears of frustration at bay, you instantly shook your head towards the cute man in front of you. “Thank you, but no. Obviously this is a sign I need to go home, sorry for spilling your drink.” 

Before he could get the chance to say anything back, you were forcing yourself to rush out of the coffee shop before an outburst could erupt from inside of you. You hadn’t even noticed the look of intrigue that the Dutchman gave you. 

Bad was the blood of the song in the cab  On your first trip to LA  You ate at my favorite spot for dinner 

The memory of the handsome Dutchman in the small coffee shop left your mind not long before the happy memories of your ex-boyfriend finally forced themselves out of your head. Things had finally begun looking up, the more time you spent with your friends, the more time you spent focusing on work and the hopeful promotion that would come with it. 

Although, your boss had insisted you take a few weeks off, citing the fact you were there more than anyone she knew, and that burnout was inevitable if you didn’t take the much deserved and obligated time off. The amount of overtime and banked hours allowing you to take the time off with full pay just made it easier to agree. 

Which was exactly how you found yourself just south of Zurich, the snow whipping past your face as the ski lift ascended higher and higher up the mountain. Your friends giggled beside you, smiles lighting up everyone’s faces. 

Winter break, although cold and snowy, was always a fan favourite amongst your friend group. It was exhilarating, you hadn’t had the chance to attend the annual ski trip while you were with your ex-boyfriend, he hated skiing and anything including winter sports.  

It’s what made the trip even better, getting the chance to catch up with your friends and their partners, the chance to laugh, and drink, and just smile again. It was all worth it.  

The group of guys in the ski lift behind obviously had the same idea, hooting and hollering at each other as the ski lift continued its ascent. You couldn’t decipher what they were saying, the words in a different language, but the name ‘Max’ seemed to be a commonality. Maybe someone was missing their dog while on vacation? Who knows.  

After hours of skiing, the alcohol in the ski lodge was flowing. The laughter and happiness from every group was prevalent, everyone there was so obviously happy to get away from the real world. It’s what places like that were for. 

“That guy over there can’t stop looking at you,” jostled out of your thoughts by one of your friends, you followed her head inclination to one of the tables a few rows down, a familiar face looking back at you inquisitorially.  

It took you a second to place his face, the day in the coffee shop floating back to your mind prompting a small laugh to fall from your lips.  

“That’s the guy who spilt the Red Bull all over me when I ran into him in the coffee shop in Monaco, remember?” 

It had been a running joke, a typical meet-cute in a coffee shop, but instead of spilt coffee... a spilt Red Bull.  

“That’s the guy who spilt the Red Bull on you?” 

One of your friend’s boyfriends gaped at you, as he continuously maneuvered his look between you and the man in question. Nodding your head, he continued to gape at you. 

“Don’t you know who that is?” Giving him a look, you shook your head. 

“That’s the Max Verstappen. Three-time Formula 1 World Champion? Dutch God? Second-coming of the Formula 1 Jesus?” 

You recognized the name, having heard it at the few races you had attended, but you never would’ve been able to place the name to the face otherwise. 

A laugh erupted from one of the other members of the group, a shove directed at the other man. “I think you've got Verstappen mixed up with Lewis Hamilton.”  

“He’s kinda cute, huh?” One of the girls pointed out to you, a small giggle falling from her lips as she looked over towards the man in question, his eyes meeting yours as you looked in his direction again. 

His hair was flopped over, obviously a combination of a long day wearing a ski helmet and a hat, mixed with the combination of the sweat and heat that engulfed the inside of the lodge made him look even more attractive. Windswept, tipsy, and overall, just happy. 

“So much better than that last loser.” A mutual agreement of ‘yes’, ‘obviously’, and ‘fucking no wonder’, floated throughout your group at your friend’s words. 

Shrugging them off, you just laughed and pushed the conversation in another direction and away from the man sitting across the room, who seemed as if he couldn’t take his eyes off you at all. 

As the night started to dwindle down, you bid goodnight to the remaining group of friends and started your route back to your room. 

“At least I have nothing to spill on you tonight.” 

Directing your gaze to the voice at hand, your eyes made direct contact with the blue irises of Max Verstappen.  

Quirking an eyebrow at him as a small laugh left your lips, “I’m sure the bars fully stocked with drinks you could spill on me. You’re just not trying hard enough.” 

A loud guffaw fell from the man’s mouth, his hands instinctively covering his mouth as he laughed. You couldn’t help the heat that grew on your cheeks at his reaction, his smile directed towards you when he finally moved his hands from his face. 

“I’m so very sorry. Next time I run into you, I’ll try to make sure I have a full drink in hand to spill on you.” 

“Oh, you plan on running into me again?” 

Shrugging his shoulders with a small grin, the Dutchman just laughed. “Well, I ran into the person I spilt a Red Bull in a coffee shop on in one of my favourite places in Switzerland, I’m sure I’m bound to run into you again. Things happen in three’s, don’t they?” 

Max ran a hand through his hair as he smiled at you, before either of you could get the chance to say anything else, one of his friends was clapping a hand against his shoulder with a boisterous laugh. 

“Time to get out of here, mate. Say goodnight to the pretty girl,” he said. 

You felt your cheeks heating again, as Max smiled at you in farewell, a small wave from both of you any indication of goodbye as you both walked away. 

Time, mystical time  Cuttin' me open, then healin' me fine  Were there clues I didn't see? 

F1 race weekends were as fun as they were busy. Any race you had attended since you were an intern was always focused primarily on working. Getting the opportunity to attend a race with your friends, in Melbourne, without having to worry about work or advertising, or anything else, was obviously the best way to spend it. 

Lou, one of your friends linked her arm with yours as she basically skipped through the hospitality area, pointing out the different garages as she got a glimpse of them. Her boyfriend, Nick, had gotten both of you passes through his own work, a long-term employee of McLaren meant that the both of you had been spoiled for the weekend. 

"Maybe you’ll end up running into Max again, imagine? A third little meet-cute,” she said, with a giggle.  

Rolling your eyes at her, you just laughed as she grinned back. “Don’t roll your eyes at me! It’s totally possible, I’m sure Nick could totally convince Lando to convince Max to pass by the garage or the hospitality. We could totally orchestrate it.” 

“Babe, it’s pure coincidence I’ve run into the guy more than once. I’m not like... going out of my way to run into Max Verstappen.” 

Huffing back at you, Lou sent a mock pout in your direction as she continued to drag you through the hospitality center. Passing a stand full of travel cups of coffee, you were eager to grab one as you walked by. 

Before you could even press the lid of the cup to your lips, you were interrupted by the sound of a familiar voice, yet again.  

“Is it your turn to spill something on me, then? I’m having a pretty bad day, and I don’t know if I can handle that.” 

Both you and Lou whipped around to the sound of the man’s voice, the man who just a short time ago had been forced to retire his race due to a faulty and on fire brake. You could practically feel Lou humming with excitement as she looked between you and Max. 

Shoving her hand out in his direction, Lou introduced herself to Max who did the same back. 

“With that, I’m going to see how everything’s going in the garage. Call me if you get lost, yeah?” Without giving you the chance to argue, she bolted away.  

Silently groaning, you looked back towards Max. For someone who just retired from a race he was probably going to win, he seemed relatively calm and relaxed. 

“So, are you?” 

“Am I what?” You questioned back, confused. 

“Are you going to spill your coffee on me, in retaliation for the Red Bull?” Instantly shaking your head, obviously the retirement from the race couldn’t have affected him too negatively, if he was already cracking jokes in your direction. 

“You don’t even know my name, and you’re accusing me of wanting to go out of my way to kick a man when he’s already down?” 

Watching his face fall, you could tell he was about to defend his words. A smile began to cross your face, his eyes jokingly narrowing in your direction. 

Sticking your hand out towards him, you finally introduced yourself, your name falling from his lips as if it was a beautiful word from a testament as he took your hand. It would be embarrassing to say a small spark shot up your arm, but the racing driver had inevitably shocked you, an apology dropping from his lips almost immediately. 

“Terrible race to stalk me at, though. You couldn’t have at least made it a race that I actually stood a chance at winning? Pretty embarrassing to have to retire for such a stupid reason, in front of such a pretty girl.”  

If there was one thing other than racing that Max was good at, it was making your cheeks warm and the butterflies in your stomach spike.  

“Well... I am here as a guest of McLaren... maybe I was just really hoping for a Piastri win. Gotta root for the hometown boy, right?” 

Shaking his head, Max mockingly pressed his hand to his chest and looked at you like he was internally wounded. 

“You’d support McLaren over me? The man who runs into you in the weirdest of places? Who gave you a free Red Bull without a can?” he said. 

You could barely help the small snort that fell from your lips at his words, your hand instantly slapping against your lips in horror. Max openly laughed at your reaction, arm gently hitting your shoulder with a grin. 

“Just for that, I’ll support Ferrari before I support you and your Red Bull’s. I don’t think Charles Leclerc would spill a Red Bull on me.” 

In response, Max grinned and pointed in the direction of the Ferrari garage, the red and yellow prominent amongst the stone. “Shall I go introduce you to Charles, then? He’d probably spill an actual hot coffee on you, at least I didn’t leave any lasting damage.” 

“The trauma of smelling like an original Red Bull for more than 2 hours isn’t enough damage?” you questioned, your eyebrows quirking up at him. 

Max looked at you in horror, “You can’t possibly be saying you don’t think the smell of an original, cold, fresh out of a fridge, Red Bull isn’t just simply lovely. This is potentially the biggest red flag about you.” 

You were quick on your feet, the words dropping from your lips before you could contain them. 

“I guess we’re all on fire today, then. Red flags left and right.” you said with a smirk. 

All Max did was laugh at your words, his head rolling back while his hands placed themselves on his hips.  

Just as he had been the last two times, Max was interrupted before he could continue the conversation, a lady in a Red Bull sweater tapping him on the shoulder to let him know he needed to make his way back to the garage for some interviews that had been requested of him.  

“Nice seeing you again, I’m sure next time I see you, you’ll probably heal more of my Red Bull soaked shirt trauma.”  

The only response he gave was a loud laugh and a wave, as he walked away. 

Time, wondrous time  Gave me the blues and then purple pink skies 

The FIA year-end Gala was exquisite. Everyone was dressed to the nines, the lights were twinking, the service was lovely, and the atmopshere was electric. 

Even though, for almost all of the people there, it was a requirement of their jobs, everyone seemed as if they were having a wonderful time. Mingling with those around them, actively engaging in conversation with co-workers, friends, long-time acquaintances.  

Your boss had elected that you and a fellow co-worker attend in her place, admitting that although she loved the excitement of the night, she needed a break from the glitz and the glam of Formula 1 for a tiny bit. She knew you were more than willing to take her place and do an incredible job.  

Which is exactly how you found yourself at a table with Jack, one of your co-workers, a wide grin on his face as he observed everything going on around him. He was new to the company, just having recently completed his internship and been offered a full-time position with the organization. It was his first time at a Formula 1 event of any kind. 

“Isn’t this brilliant? I’m a huge motorsports fan, I wanted to get into karting when I was a kid but it was just too expensive, my parents couldn’t afford that. I’ve never even had the opportunity to go to a race, and now I’m in the same building, the same room as literal race drivers. Have you been to a race before?” 

You forgot how much he could yap, an almost over-eager human equivalent of an excited golden retriever. He looked at you expectantly, waiting for your answer to his question. 

“I’ve been to a few races for work, and a few privately with some friends. They’re always a great time, you’ll have lots of fun when you start going for work.” you said. 

Grinning at your words, you began to tune him out as he launched into another rant. You were pulled out of your thoughts at the sound of someone saying your name, your head swiveling in the direction of the voice. 

You were almost positive Jack was squealing out loud, as Max Verstappen once again entered your view. Smiling up at him, you stood up to greet the Dutchman, which resulted in him pressing a chaste kiss to your cheek, his hand gently patting you on the back as he did so. 

“I just wanted to come by and say hello. You look very beautiful.”  

Unable to contain the anxious laugh that fell from your lips, you immediately smiled at him. Accepting compliments was obviously not your forte, especially when they were coming from Max, who looked more handsome than ever in his suit, and the wide smile on his cheeks pulling everything together. 

“Never thought I’d see you in anything other than jeans and a Red Bull shirt, Max. You look lovely, as well.” 

“Making fun of me, and a compliment all in one? I will say, I probably would’ve worn jeans if I could, but my public relations manager likely would’ve murdered me and I quite enjoy being alive,” he said. 

Shaking your head in silent laughter, you barely even noticed as Jack thrust his hand out to introduce himself to Max.  

“Your girlfriend is lovely, mate. This is what, the fourth time I’ve run into you?” Max said in greeting, a somewhat tight smile on his face. 

Jack instantly shook his head, “Oh god no, we’re co-workers. I don’t mean she’s not lovely, she is. I’m not her type, or actually she’s not my type. I’m yapping, this is embarrassing. Mr. Verstappen, it was really nice to meet you. I need a drink. I’m sorry.” 

He practically sprinted away, both you and Max looked on with amused grins present on your faces. 

“So, if he’s not your boyfriend, does that mean one of the guys you were with in Switzerland are?” 

Shaking your head, “God, no. Those are friends I’ve known for years. I’m very much single, right now.” 

Max looked like he was in complete contemplation as he debated what to say next. You were secretly hoping he would take the bait, maybe ask if you were free after the gala, or ask how long you were going to be in town for. 

Running into him again once was by chance, twice was a coincidence, and thrice was obviously a sign. The universe was obviously trying to tell you something, there was a reason this man, who had first shown up in your life just after one of the worst heartbreaks you had ever experienced, continued to show up. It was hard to not get your hopes up, to not get ahead of yourself. 

It was hard to keep the butterflies at bay, truthfully.  

“Hypothetically, does that mean you’re free after the gala?” 

“Hypothetically... I man be free after the gala,” you responded. 

Nodding his head, Max smiled in your direction. “I think it would be a crime to let this beautiful dress, and my efforts to wear a suit for something go to waste. I’d love to take you out after.” 

And isn't it just so pretty to think  All along there was some  Invisible string  Tying you to me? 

Max had been transparent from the beginning; he wasn’t overly affection nor was he a fan of excessive cuddling. He got warm often, and the moment he got too warm when he was in bed, he got miserable. But when he wanted to cuddle? You had to take what he would give you.  

Which was exactly how you found yourselves right now, Max playfully attempting to whack your phone out of your hand, his other arm wrapped around your waist as he burrowed his head into your neck. 

“Schatje, I just wanna cuddle for a bit. Give me a little attention.” 

Slapping gently at his arm, you looked at him in mock exasperation. All you ever did was give him attention, he almost took the words out of your mouth when he muttered, “I know you give me plenty of attention, don’t yell at me.” 

You just shook your head silently as you used your free hand to gently twirl small tuffs of his hair, a small hum of content falling from his lips at your movements. 

“What are you looking at?”  

Attempting to look over at your phone, you moved the screen so he could see it better. It was a video from your first ever Formula 1 race, back when you were still a little intern and your boss had wanted you to gain some exposure to the sport. 

“I’m just looking back at some videos. Found this one from my first ever race. I didn’t even know I still had this.” 

Max instantly perked up and looked at your phone, his eyes squinting as he tried to decipher something in the video. 

“Do you remember which race it was? Looks like it’s a few years old, yeah?”  

Nodding your head, you tried to do the math in your head, thinking back to what year you first started your internship. “I think it was 2016? It was definitely in Spain, but I’m pretty positive it was 2016.” 

“Do you know what that means?” Max questioned, a soft smile on his lips as he pressed a small kiss to the junction between your chin and throat before looking back up at you. 

Shaking your head in confusion, you tried to determine what he could be talking about, giving him the chance to continue.  

“My first ever win in Formula 1, for Red Bull, was the 2016 Spanish Grand Prix. Isn’t that so ironic? Guess things were always meant to be.” 

Maybe he was right. 

Maybe there was always a string, a small, invisible string, tying everything together, tying you to him.  

genuinely i got this into my mind and felt like i was legally obligated to write it asap. i hope you LOVE it and i would so appreciate it if you told me if you do. thank you, love you all 🫶🏻

[heartfullofleeches]

Drabble ft Thembo Darling mistaking one of Aspen [Housewife Yan]'s night slips for a tank top. (GN Reader, but they are described as having big naturtals and slightly implied to be taller than Aspen. Reader's chest is referred to as tits once or twice. Slightly suggestive.)

-

Wedded and residing in the same home as your spouse for several odd years, misplacement of your separate possessions as individuals is a one of numerous staples tied to married life. Your toothbrush in the slot where his would normally be. Leaving home smelling of lavender and honey instead of your regular body soap. Taking out the trash in pink slippers due to your own being nowhere in sight.

It's never been a point of issue to either of you. As a matter of fact, your wife seems delighted to find you at the breakfast table sipping from his favorite mug.

Groggy and drained of energy by the steam of a nice, hot shower before bed, you stumble into the bedroom as the click of the bathroom door muffles the sound of running water. Your wife enjoyed taking his time when he had it to spare, but unfortunately you were too exhausted to stay with him longer.

Pawing through the darkness, your fingers lace around the chilled knob of the top dresser drawer where you normally kept your nightwear. The insistence of your wife urging you to join him lead to you forgetting to grab a shirt for yourself. Losing your battle with the beast known as fatigue, you grab the closet one - throwing it over head as you switch trajectory for the bed.

"Something feels.....off."

As the fabric petals around you, you immediately notices something strange about the garment both in texture and the form at which it shapes to your frame. At first feel, you chalked the silk like touch of the shirt as some effect of the new laundry detergent Aspen picked up the other day. For a split moment, you pondered if you even put on anything to begin with - the material light and breathable like warm spring air. The familiar bind of your tank tops makes an appearance as the shirt rides the curve of your ample chest, biting the skin as you huff in frustration.

"Did it shrink in the wash?? Didn't he just buy these for me?"

Fiddling with oddly thin straps, your tits squish through the top of the shirt as you pull its hem in tandem. Your nipples pucker at the iciness cupping your chest as the fabric adjusts to the warmth of hot-bloodded body. Your teeth chatter as cool air blows over your bare stomach - the shirt barely having enough material to cover your navel.

"This thing totally shrunk! And it's brand new too...."

Slumped in defeat, cherubic humming echoes from behind the bathroom door - crescendoing as the handle turns and a figure shrouded in fog steps out. Aspen hangs his towel on the shower rack drilled to the backside of the door, facing away from you as he questions-

"Is everything alright, my love? Could've sworn i heard you saying something a moment ago."

"I think my tank top shrunk in the wash...."

"What?!" Aspen spins on his heels, expression flared in shock and surpise at your declaration. "But I just bought those for you! First thing tomorrow, we're marching down to that store to get you clothes that can survive more than one wash."

"I know." You whine, plopping down on the bed center of the brilliance still bleeding through the bathroom door. Aspen's jaws fall slack as he stares at you, but the source of his disbelief no longer regards the alleged faulty tank top.

"Darling?"

"You didn't even need to buy me new ones, but it was sweet of you to do anyway."

"Darling."

"And look what happened. Having to return gifts is the worst!"

"Darling!"

"Huh?!?" You snap to attention as your wife shouts, the fat of your well endowed bust nearly slipping over the low cut of your attire as you jump from the fright of if all. Breath violently yanked from his person, Aspen stammers for the proper words to say as he fans himself.

"Good heavens, if there are higher powers above, please give me strength." Aspen mutters feverishly to himself - regaining his prim and proper composure as he clasps his hands together; nails digging into his skin to remind him of self control.

"Dearest. My sweet angel, my love of loves - you are not wearing one of your shirts. You are wearing one of my slips."

Oh.

Ohhhh.

That explains- so much. More specifically the spilts at the sides and what you now recognize as frilly lace stitched around the hems.

"Oh, no. I'm stretching it all out, aren't I? Here, I'll try to get it off before I completely ruin it."

"NO!" Aspen's hands shoot forward as if you're inches from placing your hand on a hot stove. He clears his throat, rounding the bed to where you sat.

"Ruined is a rather bold claim, wouldnt you say? You already have it on, so there's no point in taking it off. Besides, I have plenty more you can stretch out some other day. It's getting late. Why don't we lie down?"

"I guess you're right..."

Sighing, you roll onto your backside as Aspen crawls over to his side of the mattress to join you. Elastic expanding to the fullest of its limits, your nipples peak out the sidelines of the slip as you lay there none the wiser.

Aspen shoves his knuckles between his teeth to stop himself from screaming.

[sincerelyhunnybee]

unchained | dark romance w. dabi

chapter 1

wc: 2k

cw: captivity/abduction, psychological distress, power imbalance, sensory discomfort, dubious morality, surveillance

ೀfrom bee: been meaning to start up a new multi chapter fic for a minute with my favorite arsonist. this has also been cross-posted to my ao3. please enjoy <3

the first thing you notice is the air.

it’s too still. stale. thick with the weight of something unspoken. there’s no hum of life—no street noise, no fluorescent buzz of hospital lights, not even the distant hum of machines you’ve grown used to from your late-night shifts. just silence, dense and unnatural, pressing against your eardrums like cotton packed into your skull.

then, pain.

a slow, blooming ache begins behind your eyes, and you realize your head is pounding—dull and rhythmic, like a warning. the floor beneath you is concrete, unforgiving against your spine and shoulder blades. cold seeps through your clothes, through your skin, until you feel like part of the cement itself.

you try to move.

your wrists are bound.

plastic digs into tender skin—zip ties, tight and unrelenting. your arms are behind your back, stiff from however long you’ve been lying here. ankles too—tied, but looser. enough to shuffle. not enough to run.

you inhale sharply through your nose. the scent is faint but unforgettable: smoke. not fresh, not fire-alarm urgent, but old. embedded. burned into walls, clothes, maybe even people.

your eyes blink open slowly. the light overhead is yellowed and swinging slightly on an exposed wire, casting shadows that pulse with every sway. the walls are gray—chipped cement, water-stained in places, claustrophobic. no windows. one door. steel. bolted.

you’re in a room meant to keep things in.

the panic is slow to rise. you’ve seen enough er cases to know what adrenaline does when it crashes through the bloodstream. it doesn’t feel cinematic. it feels cold, like your limbs are flooding with ice water. your breathing shortens. your vision tunnels.

this isn’t happening.

but it is.

voices rise on the other side of the door. laughter. sharp, high-pitched and childlike. then something lower, theatrical and amused. another voice, rasping, sounds irritated.

“enough. i’ll handle it.”

the voices stop.

you freeze.

that voice is quieter than the others. less emotion, more weight. like every word is carved out of granite and dropped into the room with intention.

the lock turns.

you don’t even realize you’ve pressed yourself against the corner until the door swings open and he walks in.

he doesn’t say anything. not at first.

the smell hits you before the full sight does—ash, charred leather, something metallic beneath it all. burnt skin. the scent of fire that didn’t just touch him—it claimed him.

he’s tall, his figure framed in the doorway like a question you don’t want answered. his body is built like smoke—slight but coiled, like he’s always seconds away from snapping. a long coat hangs open over his form, dark pants tucked into heavy boots. his hands are stuffed in his pockets like he couldn’t be bothered to use them. or maybe like he doesn’t trust them.

but it’s his face that truly makes time stutter.

his skin is patched in scorched, deep purple—like the remnants of something dead. staples hold pieces together, twisted metal where flesh once was. it should look monstrous.

but it doesn’t.

it looks… deliberate.

he meets your eyes.

icy blue. clearer than they have any right to be. the kind of blue you’d associate with glaciers, not fire.

“you’re awake,” he says, voice dry and disinterested. it’s not a question.

you don’t answer. your throat is too dry.

he watches you, head tilted slightly. his gaze lingers, not like he’s seeing you, but like he’s studying you.

no pity.

no satisfaction.

just calculation.

you force your mouth to work. “where am i?”

“does it matter?”

your stomach tightens. “who are you?”

a pause. he lifts one shoulder in a lazy shrug.

“dabi.”

the name lands like smoke in your lungs. you’ve heard it before. everyone has. a villain. a murderer. fire incarnate, wrapped in skin he shouldn’t still have.

you should be screaming. you should be begging. you should be breaking down.

but all you do is stare. and he stares back.

“i’m not here to hurt you,” he says finally, like he’s repeating something someone else told him to say. “you’re leverage. that’s all.”

he steps forward and sets a small tray down near the wall. food. a bottle of water. your body wants it desperately, but your pride keeps you still.

he turns to leave, hand on the door.

you speak again, hoarse. “why you?”

he pauses, glancing over his shoulder. his expression is unreadable—somewhere between annoyed and amused.

“because i’m the only one who won’t break you too fast.”

then he leaves.

the door shuts with a deep, echoing finality that seems to vibrate through your ribcage.

then comes the click of the lock.

it’s a small sound. simple. mechanical.

but it hits harder than any slam could.

you’re alone again.

the silence rushes back in, louder than ever. it feels heavier now. not just oppressive, but watchful. like the air remembers he was here.

you stay frozen for a few seconds longer, back pressed to the wall, pulse still rabbit-fast in your throat. your skin is clammy, your mouth dry. there’s a ringing in your ears from the sheer effort of keeping your fear locked behind your teeth while he was in the room.

you replay everything he said.

“you’re leverage.”

“i’m not here to hurt you.”

you want to scoff. or cry. or scream. but instead, you just sit there, too hollow to choose which one comes first.

your eyes shift to the tray he left behind.

it’s not much. just a bottle of water, a roll, something that looks like rice or maybe oats. probably cold by now. definitely tasteless. still, the smell of it turns your stomach—not because it’s unappetizing, but because your body wants it. and it feels wrong to take anything from him.

you stare at it for a long time.

at the water. the food. the small, quiet offering from a man made of fire and stitched-up fury.

was it kindness? control? a game?

you don’t know. and that terrifies you more than his threats.

you shift slowly along the floor, wrists aching from the zip ties. the concrete is rough beneath you, scraping your skin even through your clothes. when you finally sit upright, back pressed into the corner, knees pulled to your chest, the silence swallows you again.

but now, it isn’t empty.

now, it echoes with a name.

dabi.

you’ve heard it whispered on late-night broadcasts. muted news flashes and pro-hero briefings. the name that shows up in grainy security footage and crumbling crime scenes. the name they say with a warning, never with certainty.

and now he has a face.

a voice.

a smell.

a presence.

and somehow, that’s worse.

you rest your head against the wall and close your eyes, just for a moment.

he didn’t touch you. didn’t hurt you.

but somehow, he’s already gotten under your skin.

and deep down, you know this was only the beginning.

-

the door clicks shut behind him, and dabi exhales slowly through his nose.

he doesn’t slam it. doesn’t bother glancing back.

let the silence hang in there like smoke.

let them wonder what it means.

the hallway outside the holding room is empty for now. cold concrete. fluorescent lighting that buzzes just wrong—slightly off tempo, like the building itself is nervous. somewhere in the distance, water drips, regular and mechanical. leaks in the pipes, maybe. no one’s gotten around to fixing it.

he doesn’t bother with the elevator. just takes the rusted staircase up two levels, footsteps echoing against the metal grating like gunshots in the stillness.

when he pushes open the door to the main floor, the stench of the league hits him instantly—dust, damp wood, cigarette smoke, and whatever the hell twice was microwaving an hour ago.

they’re waiting for him.

toga is sprawled on the torn-up couch, upside down and grinning with her teeth. “how’s your little pet?”

dabi doesn’t break stride. “alive.”

“ohhh,” she sing-songs, twisting to look at him as he walks past. “that’s more than i expected.”

“didn’t ask for expectations,” he mutters.

twice pops his head out from behind the fridge, half of his mask pulled down. “they cry yet?”

“no.”

he opens a cabinet, shuts it again, starts opening another. always fidgeting. “i would’ve cried. probably. unless i was feeling brave. or stubborn. were they stubborn?”

dabi doesn’t answer.

he pulls a cigarette from his coat pocket, smoking whenever he's pissed off, which is often. the lighter clicks. flame flares.

he catches shigaraki’s gaze across the room. the leader’s hunched over a table strewn with blueprints and news clippings, fingers twitching over them like he might disintegrate them just to feel something.

“ they're not important,” shigaraki says without looking up. “they're leverage. that’s all.”

“i said i’d handle her,” dabi says flatly.

“and you are.” shigaraki looks up now, red eyes narrow. “just making sure you remember what they are.”

dabi doesn’t flinch.

he exhales, smoke curling from his nostrils in twin streams, and says nothing.

because the truth is—he does remember.

he remembers exactly how you looked at him.

not like a villain. not like a savior.

like something in between.

and it’s not supposed to matter. you’re leverage. a pawn.

but the way you didn’t scream…

that sticks with him.

that bothers him.

“you’re quiet,” toga calls from the couch. “are they pretty?”

dabi’s eye twitches.

he flicks ash onto the floor and walks away, ignoring twice’s cackling and toga’s laughter echoing after him. he heads back to his room—bare mattress, cracked mirror, half-melted light fixture. no windows. same as yours, but colder.

he shuts the door, locks it, and leans his head back against the wall.

the silence creeps in again.

but this time, it isn’t empty.

it’s shaped like your voice. your stare. your question.

why you?

he doesn’t know.

but he chose it.

and that, somehow, is worse.

the mattress creaks beneath him as he drops down onto it, boots still on, coat still wrapped around him like armor he never takes off. the room is dim, lit only by the soft blue glow from the small monitor embedded in the wall above a crooked desk.

it’s a crude setup—just one camera feed. a grainy, static-pulsed view of the holding room below.

of you.

you’re still in the corner, right where he left you. knees drawn up to your chest, back pressed to the wall. the tray of food untouched.

you haven’t moved.

dabi leans back on one elbow, cigarette still burning between his fingers, and stares at the screen. not watching. studying.

he’s always been good at that.

body language. microexpressions. the little ticks people think no one sees.

you’re scared—but not broken.

you’re still calculating. still breathing through your nose like you’re trying to hold in the scream you think might make you weak.

he wonders what kind of life you had before this.

he wonders what it must be like to still have something to lose.

he flicks ash into the metal tray on the floor. the sound barely registers.

you shift a little, finally, your eyes flicking to the camera in the top corner of your room. you don’t stare at it—don’t confront it. but you know it’s there.

smart.

he doesn’t look away from the screen.

your lips move slightly, like you’re murmuring something to yourself. repeating a phrase. or maybe a name.

not his.

that shouldn’t bother him.

but it does.

he turns the volume up on the silence in his room, hoping it’ll drown out the way his chest tightens.

this isn’t about you. it never was.

you’re leverage. collateral. a chess piece in a game no one’s winning.

and yet—

he keeps watching.

he watches as your head tilts back against the wall, your eyes fluttering shut, jaw tight with exhaustion. you’re fighting sleep. fighting stillness. fighting him, even when he’s not in the room.

and he doesn’t know why, but—

he likes that.

he likes that you’re still trying.

that you haven’t broken.

not yet.

the cigarette burns low in his hand, the smoke curling lazily in the stale air.

dabi exhales.

and in the dim glow of that flickering monitor, he tells himself, one last time, the lie he needs to believe:

this means nothing.

reblogs + comments are very much appreciated !

next update: 5/25/2025

taglist (lmk if you would like to be added): @reggieswriter

[crushmeeren]

♡ Master List Link

➳ Warnings; Mentions of injuries, Cursing, Kissing, Marijuana Use, Vaginal Sex, Dirty Talk, Squirting, Fem Reader

➳ Or: You just want to spend one more easy night with Dabi before the entirety of Japan goes to hell.

Note; this is a completely re-edited, revised, reworked version of my previous Dabi/Reader — I deleted the previous one.

♡ Touya / Fem Reader

It’s almost funny, you think, as you lean against the wall of the Leagues newest hideout. The reason you were convinced to join the A team in the first place—to go a long with Shigaraki’s convoluted plans.

It wasn’t Stain. Hell, it wasn’t even Shigaraki himself. It sure as fuck wasn’t All for One.

No, it was the scarred, absolutely deranged, blue eyed psycho that has daddy issues. The man who creates flames that burn over 2500 degrees celsius at their hottest, higher than Endeavors. The bastard.

To be fair, you didn’t know he had daddy issues when you saw him on TV for the first time. Yet, you saw the emotion in his eyes. Rage.

It flared, crackling brightly—hotter than the flames he produces himself.

It forced something to melt and seep into your bones, making your skin feel too tight, itchy, in an all too familiar way. You recognized another emotion on his face, one you were well acquainted with. Revenge.

You stopped at nothing to seek him out after that. Inevitably, you found him.

Now here you are, watching Dabi make, what equates to, a self-introduction video.

You’ve heard the story from him multiple times, you’ve seen him make the video over and over again. He’s shared his past and you’ve shared yours. You know people say Dabi may not feel much, hell even he says that. They say he’s heartless, cold, insane.

And—he is, but he’s also much more than that to you.

He’s kind to you, in his own twisted way, but he loves you, as much as he’s able to.

Which compared to “normal people” is actually quite a lot. Some would place him on the level of obsessed, unhealthy.

Although, who are you to judge? You act the exact same way towards him. Both of you would incinerate the world for each other, literally.

You also know he wants this video to be his own version of Dantes Inferno, about his journey navigating through hell since he was a kid.

You’ve had many conversations with Dabi about how much of a toll this takes on him. As if he’s weighted down by concrete tied to his ankles. Usually he gets so worked up that smoke ends up seeping through the seams of his staples by the end of it.

Nevertheless, he’s releasing the video tomorrow—whether it’s time for Shiagaraki to wake the hell up or not. No matter what, it’s going to rock the hero society. It’ll crumble the facade they have worked so hard to maintain. You’re lucky enough to know who he really is, the rest of the league, and the world, doesn’t. Yet.

You’re here for support, to make sure he actually gets the video fucking done, before you’re heading off for the day. Doing some sort of asinine errand for the Doc to help keep Shigaraki’s ass alive while he soaks in that vat.

You already decided that later tonight, you’re going make sure Dabi remembers he’s got you to come home too. No matter what happens after the world sees behind the veil.

After some time, you’re still leaning against the wall on the side of the room. Letting little flames ignite from your fingertips, just playing around, having one flame dance from finger to finger.

It’s another thing that had attracted you to Dabi. Even though flame quirks are a dime a dozen, and his flames burn hotter, it made you feel like you were similar, in a way.

Noticing that he’s stopped talking you look up, putting out the flame with a wave of your hand. You watch him walk to the camera to turn it off.

He was shirtless for the video. It shows off how lean he is, but it also shows all the burn scars that cross his chest and torso, up his neck and under his eyes. His hair is white right now and the staples holding him together shine under the light from overhead.

For a beat you remember how cool they feel pressing against your skin when Dabi pins you face down on the bed.

Your body flushes, warmth churning in your belly.

Being in love with a man like Dabi means he takes up most of the space in your brain, running wildly through your thoughts constantly.

To add on it’s not just Dabi you love, it’s Touya too.

You’re desperately aware of the fact that you’re not doing a very decent job of hiding the way your eyes trail his body when he speaks up. His smooth, smoky voice rumbling from his chest.

“You know, it’s rude to stare baby,” Dabi murmurs, inclining his head slightly to look at you. His gaze is sharp but his lips are pulled into a lazy catlike grin.

Embarrassment shoots through you, burrowing into your cheeks. A swarm of butterflies ravages you.

Using your hands, you set them behind you and you push off the wall, trying to form a response. Nobody else but Dabi makes you act like you’ve swallowed your tongue whole.

“Maybe I just like what I see,” you tease, trying to ignore the obvious flush of your chest and neck. Dabi turns to face you as you walk up to him.

You can’t get over the way he looms over you, forcing you to crane your neck to look up at him. The grin never leaves his face. He tugs playfully at a lock of hair that had fallen from your bun, making it seem as if you’ve swallowed cotton balls.

“Oh? You’re one to talk. I could fuck you where you stand and you’d let me,” he flirts, looking oh so casual the whole time.

Dabi twirls the same strand of hair around his finger tightly, before letting it go.

The man radiates fucking heat and it’s a bit like standing too close to a bonfire. It toes the line of too hot, as if your skin would start to melt if you got too close.

Your eyes flutter shut from the familiar warmth, and you taking a deep, steadying breath — willing away the lust that threatens to turn your insides to ash.

You desperately try to remember that now is not the time to let Dabi fuck you silly.

You reluctantly take a step back, only now realizing how close the two of you had gotten. Later, you remind yourself, trying to cool down.

Dabi pushes out his lower lip, pretending to pout.

“Dabi, c’mon, you know I’ve got to go soon. I just wanted to make sure you got this finished today,” you say with hesitation.

Dabi rolls his eyes, no doubt irritated they have you doing bullshit errands. You get it, you feel the same, but you know it’s just less of a hassle to get it done.

It’s not like you don’t want Shigaraki to wake up soon. The crazy, itchy fucker has grown on you.

Besides, you want to get the plan moving and all. Dabi knows this, yet it still pisses him off. He waves a hand dismissively, before turning back to the camera.

“Whatever, go on then,” he bites coldly. Your lips press into a line, the sting of hurt pulsing in your chest briefly.

You shove your hands in your pockets and turn to leave without saying much else. You’re not willing to get into it with him right now, the video has clearly already got him riled up.

Before you can take a step, a blistering palm grabs your forearm, turning you back around. You raise an eyebrow as you meet his intense gaze.

“Yes?” you bite back. Dabi stares down at you, hand trailing down to grip your wrist, wrapping his fingers around as a bracelet. His expression stays sharp, blue eyes piercing.

“Just come back to me tonight, okay?” Dabi demands, an underlying note of concern lacing his tone.

You can’t hold back the smile that pulls at your lips, previous hurt washed away by your adoration for the deranged man in front of you. You nod.

“I will Touya,” you whisper softly.

You tend not to use his real name often, only when you need him to know you’re serious.

It makes his eye twitch, his stomach more often than not twisting in fury when he hears it.

Not with you though. The way his name falls from your lips—he’d be remiss if he didn’t admit it soothes the open wound it’s left behind.

Without another word, Dabi bends down, brushing a kiss over your cheek, letting your wrist go. Your skin tingles where his lips were, the rough texture of his lower one always tickles. You smile softly.

Swiftly you press a kiss to the corner of his mouth in return.

“Love you too, dickhead!” You call out playfully, letting the door swing shut behind you. Dabi scoffs watching you go, but he wears, a small, loving smile at your jab.

He already wishes for the night. As long as can be with you again.

You’re covered in soot and ashes. Smelling like a fucking bonfire gone wrong. The flesh of your hands is singed, stinging, and you curse internally when you curl them into fists.

Generally, it happens when you overuse your quirk. The skin sizzles, steam rising from the reddened flesh. You shake your hands out as you walk, thanking God that it looks worse than it is. It’ll heal relatively quickly.

You’ve managed to procure only a couple bruises though, so you count yourself even luckier. You know Dabi will be fucking pissed either way.

You always have to talk him down from eviscerating the Doc when you wind up coming home banged up from one of his errands.

To top it off, it’s way later than when you normally return from these idiotic missions. It’s well past midnight and you’re sure Dabi is close to committing arson.

The job was a waste of your time. Granted, you admit you may have been a little distracted. You couldn’t stop thinking about the night that lay ahead of you and Dabi.

It’s hard to burn down that many buildings, discreetly, when you’re not focused 100%. You almost got caught at the last building.

Hence the new dark purple splotches covering your left bicep. They throb slightly when you accidentally brush your fingers over them. It’s a miracle you made it out, but you’re not telling Dabi that.

Walking into the front door of the, more or less mansion that is the hideout, you notice it’s quiet in the living room.

None of the usuals that hang out are down here. You look around quickly, thinking maybe you’d catch a glance of Dabi. You scowl when you don’t see his spiky white hair anywhere. You swiped something on the way home, an item that will help the two of you relax. It sits heavy in your back pocket.

You desperately want the two of you to enjoy the night before the world explodes into chaos tomorrow.

You slip your hand into your pocket, just to make sure it’s still there. Your finger tips trace the pre-rolled joints you snagged. You smile coyly to yourself, feeling your heart beat harshly against your rib cage.

A pleasant shiver rolls down your spine as you recall the last time you and Dabi had sex higher than a kite.

Smoking weed isn’t necessarily something you and Dabi do often, but when you get the chance you certainly take advantage of it.

How could you say no? Your body feels relaxed and warm, like your joints are made of butter. The pleasure is always dialed to a 10.

You know Dabi fucking loves it, the one chance he gets to truly relax. You make your way to the stairs as you chew on your bottom lip, mulling over your thoughts.

You’re hoping that once Dabi sees you’re okay, and that you have joints, he won’t be too tempted to set the mansion on fire.

You walk swiftly to your room. You pass by Mr. Compress on the way, the two of you wave in greeting. The sound of your combat boots echo on the wooden floor as you round the corner, stopping at your door.

The door is closed but that’s not unusual. Eagerly, you turn the handle and push open the door. It’s pitch black inside. That…is odd actually. Your grin quickly fades as you step inside, curious, you flip on the low light to the room.

Dabi’s not here. You feel an unwarranted flash of irritation at the realization.

As cliche as it sounds, recently you’ve been finding him playing some sort of game on his desk top computer. You’re not sure he’s ever played one before now and he seems to thoroughly enjoy it. Your chest warms as you think about him getting to experience some sort of normalcy.

However, he’s not at the desk. He’s not anywhere in your room. You shut the door behind you and walk in further. Shoving the feeling of annoyance down your throat, you remind yourself that the villain has got to be somewhere around the hideout.

Hoping he’ll pop up soon you decide it’s best to take a shower. To wash off the layer of disgusting ash you’re covered in.

Setting the joints on your dresser, you strip your nasty clothes off and throw them to the side. You grab one of Dabi’s shirts, one with a skull on it and nothing else before making your way into the en-suite bathroom.

As you stand under the spray of the scalding water, it feels unbelievable. The water acting as a much needed massage for your sore muscles.

You scrub yourself clean, hissing as the soap causes a burning sensation in your hands. You examine the newly pink, sensitive skin of your palms and flex your sore fingers.

The curtain suddenly rips open halfway and you scream loudly, arms flailing wildly. Your head whips to the side, heart in your throat as you see a smug looking Dabi. You place a hand on your chest, pulse thundering.

“You fucking jack ass! You scared the shit out of me! Where the hell have you been?” you shout, angrily flinging water at his face.

Dabi laughs as he brings his hand up in surrender, covering his face from your retaliation. You let out a frustrated noise, quickly turning the water off to face him. You push roughly at his chest, wetting his shirt and he grips the shower curtain with one hand for balance. He’s still fucking laughing.

“I got restless waiting for you. I was with Spinner, who wouldn’t stop yapping about some new video game. I saw Compress and he told me he saw you on your way up. I wanted to fuck with you.” He grins wolfishly, pretending to wipe a fake tear of amusement from his eye. The staples near the corner of his mouth tug at his skin.

You scowl, glaring at him playfully.

“You’re the biggest dick I’ve ever had the misfortune of meeting, ya know that?” you chastise him, unable to stop yourself from grinning widely at his relaxed demeanor.

Truthfully, you know nobody else sees this playful side of Dabi. The fact that you’re privy to it, it’s like knowing the world’s greatest secret. You want to put it in a box and keep it safe forever.

“Is that right? And yet, you’re the one who continues to stay with me, princess. I’ve just got you that cock drunk for me, don’t I sweetheart?” You blush violently at his teasing, but there’s absolutely no denying it.

Dabi smirks, taking the chance to let his gaze lazily trail up and down your wet, naked body. Slowly appreciating your form, and biting the tip of his tongue.

You wiggle your eyebrows playfully, popping your hip out, placing your hand there. It pulls an amused laugh from him and he winks at you. The sound of it sets your nerves alight.

Suddenly, you feel Dabi go stock still. The air raises a few degrees as his expression distorts into something feral, his happy mood vanishing.

Your stomach knots up and you shift your weight from foot to foot. You know he’s found the new, rather large, bruises peppering your left bicep. Delicately, he trails his fingers over them with his free hand. You wince.

The sickening scent of burning plastic starts to flood your nose. You glance over, panicking slightly when you see Dabi’s melting the shower curtain in a death grip.

“Touya!” You gasp. “I’m okay, really, I’m fine. Please, look at me baby,” you soothe, gripping his wrist to try and yank him free, but he doesn’t loosen his hold. You place your free hand on his cheek, forcing his manic gaze to meet yours. “It was my fault, I wasn’t paying attention,” you continue in a gentle voice, running your thumb over the scarred flesh under his left eye.

His snowy white eyebrows pinch together, and he lets out a pained sound, hesitantly letting go of the curtain. You swiftly take the opportunity to lace your fingers with his.

You take a peak at the curtain again, noticing a hand print has been permanently melted into it. Touya tugs on your hand harshly, asking for your attention.

He stares intensely at your face, pupils tracking back and forth rapidly, looking wild. When he speaks, it’s as if he’d swallowed a handful of gravel.

“Those goddamn idiots!” He snarls. “Sending you out, letting you get fucked up. If I fucking see that Doc again before Shigaraki wakes up, I’m incinerating him,” he manages to get out through clenched teeth. He’s furious, tone low and menacing.

It definitely does not turn you on.

Touya tangles his fingers through the wet hair at the nape of your neck, squeezing painfully. Your breath catches, scalp tingling.

A torrent of warmth rushes through you, pussy clenching eagerly around air.

It never fails to turn your brain to mush when he’s like this. Protective, possessive. It makes syrupy heat drip down your spine.

You shiver, not just from the chill of being naked, when you realize you’re still dripping wet. Unfortunately, you need a towel.

“I know Touya,” You laugh shakily , wanting to redirect his anger. “ I won’t stop you, promise. Let’s not allow those dumbasses to ruin our night, okay?” You squeeze his hand reassuringly. “I brought a surprise for us to share! So can you be a good boyfriend and please hand me a towel?” You plead, looking at him through your lashes.

Touya doesn’t move for a moment, narrowing his eyes slightly as considers your words, before his expression mellows out. He sighs heavily.

Touya releases his grip on your hair, trailing his rough fingers over your jaw and patting your cheek twice softly. He frees your other hand and turns to grab a towel from the cabinet.

You lift up your arms, very relieved, and wiggle your fingers happily as you wait. Touya sweetly wraps the cloth around your back and crosses it over your chest, tucking it into itself so it stays in place. You beam at him, letting your arms fall to hold it in place.

“Fine. You’ve convinced me not to commit murder tonight. Show me the surprise,” Touya concedes, catlike grin settling into his expression once again. You breathe another sigh of relief, stepping out of the shower. You balance with a hand on his arm.

“I got us joints! I figured some good weed would help us relax and,” you trail your finger over his jaw, biting your lip coyly. You lean in, whispering sensually to him. “I was hoping we could have some fun later, if you know what I mean.”

Standing up straight, you smile smugly, wrapping the towel tighter around yourself, watching his reaction. His head tilts back in delighted laughter.

“That’s the best idea you could’ve had. Let’s go get high out of our minds baby, and then I’ll fuck you into the mattress,” he purrs, grabbing the shirt you left to change into and tugging you along out of the bathroom.

You watch his lean frame from behind, admiring him as he walks. Your man is stupid hot, and you don’t just mean literally.

Once you’re near the bed the two of you release each other. He hands you your shirt and you let your towel unwind, tossing it to the side.

Touya’s hand comes out of nowhere to roughly smack your bare ass. The pain flares, making you yelp.

“Touya!” You scold. “Fuck off for a second will you?” you joke. “Let me at least put my shirt on.” You slip the clothing over your head as you speak, gathering your wet hair into a braid.

Touya snorts. You look at him with a raised brow as he’s taking his own clothes off. Your eyes linger for a moment on the V shape that disappears into his underwear. He winks at you in return when he catches your stare, but you just roll your eyes.

“Why are you even putting clothes on? You know I’m just going to get you naked later,” Touya complains as he crawls onto your shared bed. He leans his back against the headboard. Touya looks at you expectantly, patting the spot next to him as he shoves his long, pale legs under the blanket.

“Yes I know, but I still get cold sometimes, plus I like this shirt, it’s soft,” you reply, picking up the joints from your dresser, turning the overhead light off, and shimmying up the bed to him.

You make it a point to sit so your thigh and arm are squished against his as you recline next him. You use a pillow to support your lower back.

“You know I can keep you just as warm baby,” Touya coos, pulling up the soft fuzzy blanket that covers your bed so you can get your own legs underneath. He lets it rest at your waist.

Touya gently warms the space beneath and you swallow a moan. It feels amazing. Turning your head to look at him, you smile lazily. He wiggles his eyebrows as you hold up a joint to him, urging him to light it.

“I know, and later on you’re gonna make me sweat,” you tease, watching as he smirks.

He doesn’t even pay attention as he uses his finger to light the joint. A little blue flame that instantly eats the paper, setting it alight.

You kiss his cheek in thanks, selfishly taking the first drag. Fuck, it tastes like heaven. A twisted version of lemon flavor bursts across your tongue. It’s sweet, but also bitter.

You let the smoke swirl in your lungs while you hold your breath. Letting it out in a long exhale, the smoke ghosts across Touya’s face. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, groaning as he breathes out.

After a joint and a half in, you’re feeling the perfect level of high. You’re leaning your head on Touya’s shoulder, studying your fingertips.

You’re something akin to the warm butter that melts on top of pancakes. Your head feels fuzzy and you know Touya is in the clouds.

”Baby,” Touya softly calls for you, smooth like whiskey. His honeyed voice sends a shiver down your spine. Your head feels heavy when you lift it, looking at him with a dopey grin.

“Hmm?” you try to ask. Managing to giggle in response. He tilts his head down towards you. He’s wearing a matching lazy grin, his eyes half-lidded.

“Let me shot gun that pretty mouth,” he murmurs, taking the last large inhale from the joint. He holds his breath and puts out the joint on his palm, laying the roach on the bedside table.

You nod happily, stomach unbearably warm as you lean towards him. You let your mouth fall open obediently.

Touya looks sly, meeting you halfway. His different textured lips pressing to yours easily, slightly opened as he slowly pushes the smoke out of his lungs and into your mouth.

Your eyes flutter closed as the tendrils of smoke roll into your mouth. It makes you feel a bit feverish and everything feels like it’s rolling in slow motion.

You inhale equally as slow, taking your time, pulling it into your lungs. It makes you feel dizzy. You hold it for a moment, until your chest starts to burn and then you break from the kiss.

Turning your head minutely, you let it all out in one breath. Your tongue slips out to lick your lower lip, the aftertaste from the joint making your mouth water.

You slide your gaze to Touya’s. He brings his hand up, letting his fingers rest on your jaw as he runs a thumb over the lip you just licked. His eyes burn with a low heat, like embers.

“Feeling high princess?” he whispers, leaning a bit closer, lips only a couple centimeters from yours. He’s gentle, holding your jaw, fingers pressing in on both sides now.

Your eyes are lidded and it feels like his rich voice physically melts through your skin, into your veins. You admire how pretty his face is, feeling your pussy throb. You bite your lip and nod, tickling a hand over his collarbone. He shivers.

“So high,” you giggle and whisper your next sentence, as if you’re telling him a secret. “Will you fuck me now Touya?”

Touya’s fingers twitch before they slide down to wrap around your throat, squeezing lightly. The staples on his wrist scratch at your neck. He’s studying your face, letting his lips pull into a wicked grin as he inches forward, brushing his mouth against yours.

“With pleasure baby girl,” he rumbles, pressing the words into your lips. You moan into his mouth, kissing him slowly over and over.

You’re just starting to lick into his mouth when he puts pressure on your windpipe and you get the message, breaking the kiss with a whine.

He laughs softly as he releases your neck and you shift until you’re lying down flat on the bed, head resting on the pillow.

The change in position makes the room spin and you blink your eyes slowly. You’ve planted your feet on the bed, letting your legs fall open. Moving around makes your shirt rise up to your hips, slick pussy on display for Touya.

You’re vaguely aware of how wet you already are, and it’s too hot in the room, your face heats again and sweat trails down your temple.

The only light in the room is from the TV you had turned on absently. Yet, you can still see Touya’s chest. He has his own light sheen of sweat covering his skin, nipples stiff and perky.

The white haired man maneuvers to get in between your thighs. He sits back on his calves, palms resting on the tops of your knees as he takes a look at your soft pussy.

The sight makes his cock ache, straining to be free from his briefs. He feels his tip positively leaking, sticking to the soft material.

“C‘mere Touya,” you whine softly, reaching your arms out for him. His expression is relaxed, loving as he bends to your will, resting his forearms on either side of your head.

You wind your arms around his neck, pulling him down into another kiss. Your lips slide together eagerly, the heat between you blazing.

His bottom lip is rough but the texture makes you moan every time. He easily slips his tongue inside your mouth, rolling them together, and you bite the delicate muscle briefly.

A husky moan pushes past his lips, causing him to break the kiss.

“Goddammit baby, I wanna fuck you so bad,” he groans, voice wrecked as he sucks dark marks in a line up your neck, gripping the hem of your shirt.

“Please,” you beg, the word sticking to the roof of your mouth. Touya doesn’t hesitate, sitting back momentarily to free you of your shirt, throwing it somewhere behind him.

The air brings a slight chill, making your nipples harden. Goosebumps erupt along your chest and you whine. Touya rests his hands on your soft belly, dick jumping, drooling as he takes in your naked body. His large, warm palms cover most of the skin there, fingers splayed on your ribs.

His eyes are red and glossy as they trail over your tits, noticing your nipples are pretty little pebbles. God, he’s so hard he could cut diamonds.

He quickly shoves his underwear off, the urge to be naked swallowing him whole. His cock bobs free as it catches on the waistband of his briefs. You watch, catching sight of the curly white hair resting just above the base.

He settles again between your legs, gripping his shaft and squeezing briefly for some relief. His own touch feels electric and he moans through his teeth. He knows you’ll feel a thousand times better than his hand.

He’s quick to swipe his thumb between your pussy lips, parting them as he drags it up to your clit, starting to massage slow circles there.

You choke on an inhale, head feeling heavy. Your limbs feel like jello, warmth flowing through you. You hum, reaching out to wrap a hand around the silky smooth skin of his shaft. He lets out a broken moan when you pump his cock, letting his foreskin pull back.

“Touya, c’mon, pretty please? Don’t wanna wait,” you say with breathy sigh. You keep stroking his cock, twisting your wrist upwards and he groans again, sounding breathless.

“You don’t have to ask me twice baby, you know how much I love fucking you,” he purrs, looking exactly like the Cheshire Cat.

He places a hand on each of your inner thighs, spreading you open a little more. You tilt your hips up a little, so you can guide his thick cock inside of you. You tease yourself, sliding his tip over your swollen clit. You let out a low curse as it sends electricity up your spine.

A short whine slips through Touya’s lips as the head of his cock presses in smoothly. Removing your hand, you give him the reigns to do the rest as he stretches your pussy completely. You tilt your head back on the pillow as you start clenching around him.

“Oh,” you say as if you’ve been sucker punched. “Touya, you feel so good!” you cry out, thoughts disjointed. You tremble at the overwhelming pleasure, white knuckling the pillow under you.

You’re sure you could cum just from the stretch of his cock alone, your sensitivity at an all time high. You chance a look at your boyfriend, panting.

His eyebrows are scrunched and he’s gritting his teeth, eyes locked on where he’s disappeared inside you. Warm pussy wrapped around him perfectly.

“Shit,” he curses lowly. “You’re so fucking tight,” he laughs incredulously rocking his hips shallowly.

His own mind is fuzzy, body high so intense he could sob. You lay there and take it beautifully as he starts to fuck you for real, slow and deep.

Your limbs are like lead, and you’ve all but become one with the mattress, the pleasure all you can focus on. The sound of your skin smacking together makes your ears burn. You’re watching the way his fingers grip your thighs, the way the muscles in his lower abdomen flex with every thrust.

“You’re so fucking hot Touya, God - I can’t,” you all but sob. You can’t focus on anything else but the way his cock drags in and out of your pussy. Touya hums softly and leans forward, bracing his hands on the bed, caging you between. You look up at him through your lashes.

“What do you want baby? Hmm? Tell me,” he pants, voice smoldering. Your entire body flushes even hotter. Quirk raising up just below your skin and you keep your hands from the sheets for fear of turning them to ash.

Letting out a low moan, you grip his forearms, he can take the heat of your quirk. He sucks in a breath through his teeth when your scalding palms make contact with his skin.

You’re able to keep it under control for now. You take note of the way your tits bounce with each of his thrusts. He watches them, eyes almost unfocused, unfazed by the blistering heat of your palms, before his gaze locks with yours when you start to speak.

“Want you to fuck me from behind, please,” you mumble, words blending together as you try to keep your eyes open. The pleasure is making your brain feel thick.

“Fuck yes, turn that pretty ass around,” he agrees, leaning back and pulling his cock free. It bounces slightly and you notice he’s glistening from your slick, notching your arousal up by a few degrees.

You don’t waste a second, rolling over onto your belly. The sensation of moving underwater is what you would compare it to.

You raise up on your knees, showing off the curve of your spine as you rest your cheek on the mattress below. The sheets are soft, caressing your skin as you nuzzle against it, distractedly.

You’re gripping the sheets by your head when you feel Touya’s palm crack harshly against your ass,forcing you to jolt forward.

“Ah!” You whine into the sheets. He must’ve heated his hand, because you can feel your ass almost blistering from where he spanked you.

You assume that’s some sort of revenge from what you did to his forearms earlier. Not that it matters, the pain and pleasure mix together even better.

“Look at you, so obedient. You want me to fuck you like a dog, don’t you?” He teases, words sitting heavy on his tongue.

He grips the base of his cock and rubs the head between your lips, parting them easily.

You open your mouth to answer but you’re cut off. He’s already bullying his way back into you without abandon.

Touya grips your hips tight enough you worry he’s gripping the bone. His cock throbs, your pussy feels tighter this way.

It’s making his head spin, watching himself pull out, cock shiny and slick, before filling you once again. His heart thumps hard in his rib cage, thinking about just how much he fucking loves you.

“Oh god.” You shove your face into the mattress as Touya starts to move hard and fast. His cock filling you out perfectly with each thrust.

The friction is blistering, pleasure burning through your limbs. He presses his hands into your lower back, pushing the arch in your spine to its breaking point and he uses his weight to fuck you.

His cock bullies your sweet spot again and again, ripping muffled screams from your throat and into the mattress.

You’re starting to squirm under him, overly sensitive while he pushes you closer to your peak. You unconsciously try to crawl away from him, but he notices. You’ve started to fist the sheets again, for any kind of leverage.

“That’s the spot, isn’t baby? You’re so cute, trying to crawl away from me. You’re not fucking going anywhere. Be good, baby girl,” he demands, huffing lightly. He leans forward to brace one hand on the back of your neck, pinning you down.

He lets his other hand rest on the middle of your lower back, pressing down there too. How you’re able to keep your knees under you is beyond you. The first heavy thrust after that has you wailing, eyes stinging with tears.

“Fuck! Touya, right there, don’t stop,” you beg, feeling small underneath him. The pleasure is overwhelming. It’s not long at all before a knot starts to wind up taught in your lower abdomen, and you struggle to try and warn him.

“Go ahead princess, I’ve got you. Cum for me, I want to feel it,” Touya purrs, bending forward to brace one hand by your head. The other still pining you down by the back of the neck.

The staples adorning his wrist feel cold against your overheated flesh. Oddly enough, the difference in temperature is what pushes you over the edge.

You cum, brutally. Pussy fluttering, gripping Touya so tight you can’t believe he’s still sliding in and out of you. Heat gushes through you in waves, curling your toes.

“Oh!” you gasp, a pressure building in your bladder. “You’re gonna make me squirt,” you say in surprise. Fingernails bite into your skin, warm breath is against your ear.

“Then fucking do it baby,” he breathes, never slowing his pace. A thrill runs through you, fingers curling in the sheets.

Pleasure ripples through you as you squirt. Soaking the sheets and Touya’s inner thighs. Your mouth stays open in a silent scream.

Touya moans in your ear, whispering words of encouragement as he works you through it. You notice his cock start to twitch inside you as you come down from your high.

Touya murmurs sweet nothings against your ear, letting you know he’s about to cum.

You tell him just how much you want it, how much you need to him to fill you up—and he does just that. Pressing all the way in until his balls fit snugly against your pussy. 

Touya cums with a noise that sounds like it’s been punched from his chest. Panting as he nudges your knees out from you, so you both collapse to the mattress.

You both catch you breath for a moment, Touya letting himself go soft before he makes a move to pull out. 

Touya rolls off you gently, onto his back. You breathe a sigh of relief, turning your head to see if his face.

“Are you okay?” he asks, cheeks flushed from the strenuous movements.

“I’m great,” you laugh, poking his ribs. He chuckles, giving you a half smile. “Can you get me a towel? Seeing as it’s your fault I’m a mess now,” you tease. Touya rolls his eyes playfully.

You flip over onto your back as retreats to get a towel, returning swiftly.

”Thank you,” you hum, cleaning yourself the best you can, not bothering to put clothes back on as you get under the blankets.

You sigh happily, turning on your side as the bed dips. Touya settles down facing you, snaking an arm around your waist to tug you closer.

“I love you,” you whisper, trailing your fingers down the side of his face, stopping to press on one of his staples under his eye. 

“I love you,” he replies, just as softly.

”I’ll follow you to hell, you know that, right?” You say, raising an eyebrow. He sighs, leaning forward to brush a kiss over your forehead.

“I know. I’ll incinerate the world for you, you know that, right?” He teases, placing his forehead on yours. You laugh gently, nodding as you kiss him once more.

[the--starless-saint]

I haven't gotten to the LN/manga and only watching the anime so here are some ridiculous thoughts:

I think right now it's quite obvious that Shisui and Loulan are the same person

Shishou, Loulan's father, is looking very quickly to becoming a big antagonist:

can't be found after his daughter body swapped,

his province was mentioned to be the main supplier of grain and such (during the hunting episode) and the price of grain and staple foods increasing despite good harvests,

that Maomao was taken North, which is the same direction as his province,

that the gun was from the West which Loulan was noted to have fashion tastes from when she was first introduced as concubines,

Speaking of the gun, the perpetrators of the assassination attempt was conveniently mishandled until they can't speak. Since the hunt was in the Northern province, it's likely Shishou's security who wld be in charge of imprisoning the criminals and such

That someone has been mass buying metal (presumbly to make new guns and military stuff?)

The fishy foreign envoys were at his province village where his daughters kidnapped maomao to

But i can't get the out of my head the fact that he (or lakan) is red-green colour blind. It's not likely that Lakan is the colourblind one because Fengxian's eyes are red and hair is green. He's also not likely to be fully colourblind if he can play chess. Also his comment at the end of the scene about some grapes being green

Red/green and colourblindness in general was shown to be associated with WangMu, the ancestral mother of the nation. Conincidentally, she is also from the West

Btw - idk about the LN and Manga, but the way the anime described her story gives lowkey coloniser vibes lol. Ik in the legends she's anything but.

The emperor doesn't have this trait. So what if Shishou is a descendant of WangMu and wants the throne because he feels it's rightfully his?

So far in the episodes, there's a recurring theme of resentment from pedophilia connecting likely Shisui and Suirei, and Shenlu (and Shishou, since he's their daddy). In the previous episode, there was someone else that bore resentment towards the pedophile late emperor - the current empress dowager

The entire reason why loulan became concubine was because the empress dowager was close to shishou

Does the empress dowager have a part of play in this scheme???

Does the shrine keeper have anything to do with this???

Also why tf is Maomao so comfy being kidnapped

Also it was rly funny how the moment Maomao realised they were sisters, they just gave up on tying her hands entirely. But before when they were already in the forest they still tied up Shisui's hands - why the extended show lol?

Then if Shishou was going to launch a military assault on the emperor, it makes sense for him to get his daughter out. But why kidnap maomao? To get to jinshi? But if he's going to full scale battle, its easier to fight the emperor and jinshi at once, rather than arouse suspicions by luring jinshi using maomao. Besides, jinshi may be the emperor's brother but maomao is going to be a useless hostage when it comes to a full scale political revolution war. He's be better off getting Lingli

The only thing that confuses me is that Shishou is called the racoon-dog, which is overall quite a positive symbol

Anyway I am very excited and invested.

[mad-maximoff]

𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐁𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲

𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵 1- 𝘔𝘪𝘥𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘚𝘩𝘪𝘧𝘵

Sum: Mack Flores had always found the underbelly of society comforting. Mack works in a nightclub as a bartender. She has many friends, but not as special as Star. A 57 year-old hooker, who Mack has a little crush on. Mack wants her to quit, but Star has no other choice until Mack makes the choice for them both that'll alter their lives forever.

Warnings: *Warnings will be announced for each chapter*, language, smoking

Word Count: 4,424

Wattpad link // AO3 // Masterlist

2 AM never came so quickly. Yeah, I hated cleaning up the bar but goddamn, tonight was a cluster of new 21-year-olds from hell. Was I ever that bad? Hell, I can't talk. I'm only 23 but I feel ancient next to these fresh-faced babies.

"Yo, Mack!" My boss, Trina, was a real hippie. A 62-year-old biker chick in a skirt turned the corner of the bar coming down the small flight of stairs from her office. "Yo, Trina!" I mimicked back, it always irked her. She chuckled leaning over the bar counter. "You wanna get outta here? You can leave if you want, I can finish storing the bottles away." Her question perked my head from the counter as I crouched down and wiped a mysterious sticky liquid off the cupboard. "Hell yeah!" I bolted adjusting my belt. "Now, now. Before you go and fuck off, go take the trash out. Then you can fly away." I sighed but knew I did not want to stay longer than I had to. My boots scuffed the floor as I dragged my body to the very thing I despised most. The trash. It was sticky and a mixture of every alcohol and the flies would come out of nowhere. I quickly tied it into a knot and lifted it slowly fearing the worst of the glass clinking.

Jesus what a night...

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Los Angeles. Beautiful this time of year. When I first moved to the States from Canada, I always knew when the weather changed back home. Here, I had to make heads or tales. Though, I knew it was fall. I wasn't sweating to death at 2 am, nor was I freezing to death. I was quite content walking home. The club I worked at was on the Hollywood strip. My apartment complex was a few blocks away. It was as though my apartment was in the middle of everything. Tourists, walk of fame, and Fig street. I often found I would rather walk Figueroa than be around a bunch of tourists taking pictures of gum on a star. That, and I get to see my own star walking so famously. Shining more brightly than any star in the Chinese Theatre. Star. I waited for her at the corner of Fig as I lit a cigarette. A few girls passed me, asking if I wanted company. Another asked for a light or match. I often carry a few matchbooks in my bag. A few tampons and condoms as well. I hand them out like I'm Oprah. Star taught me that. The girls appreciate it. A few knew me by name, perhaps by knowing Star or maybe I have served them once before.

"Yoo-hoo! Starry-girl!" I hollered as the prettiest blonde stepped out of a red brick building adjusting her fur cheetah print coat. Faux, of course, she would never been seen in real fur. She's a real animal activist.

"Miss Mack Flores! Now what have I told you about waiting up for me?" Star's 6-inch heels clicked along the concrete. Star held herself up proudly, her white cream-coloured purse with a gold chain bounced against her hip. "Haha, I didn't I just got here. Tri cut me early. So, I figured I'd come find you." I matched with Star's pace. Her strides were longer than mine. Not just because of the heels but also because she was 2 inches taller than me.

Every time I saw Star there was always something new I never noticed. Today, I noticed the way the muscles in her hand moved as she flinched her knuckles. Her dainty fingers looked soft, her nails were still painted in the shade of red nail polish I got her for Christmas last year. It was Nars in the shade Chinatown.

Star huffed while she held her tightly tied corset. It was a staple in her normal wardrobe. It was a dark cream colour with a thin black outline around the chest, the strings were black tied up in the back. She wore skin colour garter pantyhose with a fine lace trim around her thighs."That's Trina for you. She makes you stay late and makes you worry, then decides to cut you."

"Come on Star, she means well." I pursed my lips against the cigarette, exhaling out and flicking the ash behind us.

"Mack, you think everyone means well. I've known Trina for years, I swear that woman is Bipolar. One minute she's happy and in a joking mood, then some minor inconvenience ticks her off and everyone's a target. Fuck, am I starving." Star halted as she looked around. "You wanna go for Greg's? I want tomato soup and coffee." Star rummaged through her purse whisking out a 20. "I'll pay this round huh?"

"No. I'm paying. Keep your cash." I nudged her as we crossed the street. "Mack come off it, I get you try to act like the strong and silent masculine lesbian here but let me pay for once. I feel like you're paying me for nothing." Star's hand dipped into mine as the traffic lights allowed us to walk. At first, I thought she wanted to hold my hand until her hand touched her lips with my cigarette stolen from my hand. I overthought that through.

"Darlin', you're off the clock. You don't need to do anything for me when I offer to pay." I pulled my leather jacket away from my body to adjust the collar. "Nothing huh? Well, I can just be your best friend for the night then huh?" I reached first for the door of Greg's diner, letting Star go first. "Always Star. That's free."

I met Star when I was 18 about 5 years ago when I first moved to LA. She was 52 at the time. I met Trina before I met Star. Trina got me a job at the nightclub as a bus girl at first, I moved up to a waitress then when I turned 21, I got to become a full-time bartender. I was working my first shift as a bartender, the place was packed. Everyone's face began to blur 2 hours in until I saw Star. She was glowing, with these little metallic star stickers on her cheeks. She had some lanky, baby-faced boy attached to her at the hip. Asking for a glass of white wine and a bottle of beer. We both chatted up and the man-child got angry. I didn't realize what line of work Star was in until I heard the man-child's words. 'Honey, I paid for 2 hours! You wanna stop showing off and start blowing me off?!' I got mad over the way he grabbed Star's arm. I never leaped over a counter faster than I did that night. Charging at him, practically throwing him into a table with a couple of punches in. Star got her money and stayed near me the rest of the night. We became friends instantly. Funnily enough, we also found out as I offered to walk her home that were lived in the same apartment complex. We lived three doors away from each other. It was as though we meant to know each other.

"You want our usual spot Honey-bun?" Star's heels made a strange noise as the ground changed from cement to brown lament. Greg's Diner was our usual hangout. Though, Greg's was Star's thing before it became mine. The upholstery on each seat was red velour from the 80s. So worn down from years of use and burnt from cigarette holes. I swear this is the only and last place you could smoke inside in Los Angeles.

Star rushed over to our usual booth. Nestled in the corner of the diner. Star liked it because she could watch her surroundings, I liked it for another reason. I sat across from Star. I had no distractions other than to stare at her. Watch how she constantly fixes her hair, thinking it isn't perfect even though the way I saw it, her hair already was. Star was perfect. Everything about her was anything but perfection. Except...for the elephant in the room. Her job.

"You see they got new waiters? Young huh?" Star adjusted herself in the booth, peeling off her fur coat from her peachy-toned shoulders. She had more freckles on her shoulders than normal. I kept begging her to wear at least a dime-sized amount of sunscreen. It fell on deaf ears. Don't get me wrong, I adored her little freckles, but it did worry me some days. The heat radiates off her body after these types of nights. Wore down, even into the morning when we crossed paths. I just wish I could help her.

"Young? What am I then?" I flagged down one of the waiters as Star raised her bag to lay it on the table beside the window. "Now, now." She giggled. "You're not 18 anymore, they're babies." She gushed watching the youngin scurrying around like a bunch of headless chickens. "So what? I look road hard and put away wet?" The waiter came to our booth, said the mandatory greeting and took our order. Star ordered a bowl of tomato soup and black coffee with sugar. They didn't offer vegan substitutions for cream so Star always suffered. Funnily enough, I thought of possibly buying a small carton of vegan milk. For how often we come here, it's something to think of. I felt bad ordering meat in front of Star, but she kept reassuring me it was fine. That she was okay with it. I ordered their classic beef dip. Their fries are seasoned like a chef has Parkinson's, every fry is seasoned deliciously. The gravy was thick and actually tasted like beef. And the au jus is immaculate. Just thinking about the toasted bread dipped in the au jus makes my mouth water.

"Haha! Mack, I was just saying you don't look that young anymore. You do look young but you've matured. You hold yourself differently than they do. I still remember your baby face behind the bar counter shaking like a leaf." As Star's words whispered out, the waiter came back with a black coffee and a beer in a bottle. Star forgot the sugar packets were in a dish beside her purse, and I was surprised over the fact our waiter remembered to pop the cap off my beer bottle.

"Yeah, I think that thing you called 'matured' is stress" My shoulders raised as I pulled the bottle close to my chest. Star shook the sugar packet against her hand until she ripped it open to pour its contents into her cup. "It's not always this rough baby-doll, you'll get there." Star's hand lifted a spoon to stir. "I'm sorry to say darlin', but when? I'm making enough for rent and other bills, but I...it's just hard. I want a savings account, and what happens if I get hurt? I have no cash for medical bills! And-..."

"Woah, woah now! That's a lot in one go, Mack. It's fine. Here, how about this? We do it the old-fashioned way, we write down your expenses. Probably you can lay off the beer for a bit." Star paused taking hold of my beer as finished mid-sip. "We figure things you can lay off. And then each paycheck, I'll teach you how much you're supposed to put away. And god forbid if you need to go to the hospital, we'll pile money together and start payment plans." Star pushed the bottle back to me as the waiter came back with our food. "I don't want you to do that Star. I'll be okay with you helping me prioritize my finances but not you helping me with medical bills." The food came piping hot. Star's soup was large with a measly packet of crackers. That I'd normally eat, and my beef dip looked as though Jesus made it himself. Hey, there's probably a line cook named Jesus back there and by god, he makes a mean beef dip.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Well, after our late dinner, I needed to loosen my belt. That beef dip hit the spot. Star and I left Greg's after I paid. I had to fight off Star's offer of pay. We exited the diner, and it strangely became colder than we first entered. Though we should've known that would happen, it was 3 a.m. Star's jaw chattered, though with every glance I took, she tried her might to stop.

"Cold are we?" My hand reached over adjusting her coat over her shoulder. "N-no, I'm fine." She continued to chatter. "Fucksake Star, come on. Lemme get us a cab. Uber?"

"No Mack. We only have 4 more blocks left. That's a waste." Star closed her coat, wrapping it around her waist. "H-hurry up." Star grabbed my bicep through my leather jacket. My arm flexed as we both shuffled faster, we made it to the gate that surrounded our apartment complex. We scurried into our complex, across the parking lot where my truck was parked in front of the set of stairs that led to our apartment doors. We both separated, Star turned left to her door as I turned right to my place at the end of the hall. My key felt more warm than my hands as I let myself in.

My place wasn't much, I didn't have decor or an actual bedframe. I had Star help me drag out a wooden pallet from work home as the frame. It wasn't fancy but it was mine. My belongings, my place. I loved coming home and everything was as I left it. Nothing moved, no one to come home to and just start judging me. It was peaceful. My phone broke the silence as it dinged with a text.

*Star*

Thank you for dinner. Sorry If I didn't say it! I was fucking frozen! Lol

*Mack*

It's fine doll, I am too lol. Goodnight <3

I threw my phone landing on my black futon. The first thing I did as soon as I stepped foot is undo my leather belt and rip off my socks. I slipped my feet in my slippers walking over to the kitchen. Still silent. What else could it be? Los Angeles at 3 am might be still noisy to a newbie, but once you get used to it, the measure of noise fades and it's finally quiet. I opened the fridge to see a sight I too used to seeing. Nothing. A few lonely bottles of beer from a 6-pack I bought at the beginning of the week and a few bottled water from a 24-pack I purchased.

"Jesus...I need to get paid." I leaned in the fridge to grab a bottle of beer. I had a butter knife lying beside my fridge. I saw this dude on TikTok, he tapped the cold bottle twice on different areas of the glass then swiped up to pop the cap off. Instinctly, I had to try. All that can go bad is broken glass everywhere. I began to tap the bottom twice, then the middle, and in one fatal swoop, the cap went flying.

"Yes! Fuck yeah!" The pressure from the bottle made the almost bubble over. I celebrated by swiping the bottle up to my lips and taking in a celebratory drink. I noticed my much-enjoyed silence was cut short by the ring of my phone. I prayed it wasn't Trina. Saying something went wrong or chewing me out for doing or not doing something to her degree. I rushed over to retrieve it to see the screen. Thankfully it wasn't, it was Star.

"Star? What's up?"

"Mack, can you come over? Please. I need a little help." Her breaths were short as she spoke. "What's wrong? Is your door unlocked?" I stayed on the phone with her as I rushed over to the front door. "Y-yes..please hurry." I slapped the door running to Star's. I rushed into her place without hesitation. I've been over at Star's so much that we might as well just move in together. That would be the dream. At least for me, I don't know about Star.

"Star? Where are you?" I panicked around like a headless chicken until I heard Star's chopped breaths in her bedroom. Star's apartment looked just like mine in layout, but she had decor. Not much. A white couch, white curtains. She loved white until you reached her bedroom. She had white bedsheets and vintage tables but she always had a little dash of colour. She had a sheer pink cloth draped from her ceiling that hung over her bed. A canopy! That's what they're called.

"There you are! What the hell is wrong?" I saw Star sitting at her vanity, cigarette in hand hanging over a crystal ashtray she loved. "Well, I kinda made a mistake. I went to untie my corset and I think I made it tighter. I can't untie it Mack." She flicked her ash as she wiped her makeup off with a wipe. "Jesus, Star. So you thought smoking would help?"

"Can you give me this lecture later? Just help me take it off." She huffed pushing her cigarette out in the crystal tray. I placed my beer on her vanity next to her makeup wipes. Star had tried her might to untie but the bow had turned into a knot. "Haha fine, you've suffered enough huh?"

"Very much so. I am so tired and sore. I know you don't like me talking about work but fuck Mack. These men think I'm a pretzel. My thighs are killing me." My nail caught onto the knot and I loosened it.

"Haha! But you kinda are Star. I'm 23 and I cannot wrap my ankles around my head but god forbid you still can." The ties unravelled against Star's back, and the corset created an imprint along her bare back stopping in the middle of her spine, whereas the string made its mark along her spine. "Still huh? Tell that to my hips...ha...it's funny. Well, not really if you think about it, but I would rather have my forehead pinned against a car window than in the motels. They're always quicker in cars." Star giggled throwing a makeup wipe in a trash bin, pulling a few glass bottles forward. I knew they were skincare, but the only skincare I knew of was moisturizer, sunscreen and cleanser. Hers looked so foreign to me. Star said I needed something that would make me 'look' less oily.

"Haha," I laughed nervously. "Well that makes sense, carpool lanes can be busy." Star snorted as she rubbed a milky-white serum on her cheeks and forehead trying to raise her eyebrows. "Oh my god shut up." She joked elbowing my hip. All of the strings of her corset were loose enough for her to remove. Star stopped her skin routine to hold the corset against her chest. She stood up kicking off her massive heels. She spun around my body turning her back to face me. She let her arms go off her chest, as the corset dropped to the floor. I peered away swiftly, however, I did take notice of Star's body move in her vanity mirror. The way Star's warm ivory skin radiated from the lightbulbs next to her bed. Her skin was golden silk. Her somewhat nude body always caught my attention. As she silently moved across the laminate floor. Her ruffled underwear slipped off tossing it on the foot of her bed, only wearing her thigh garters. The little cluster of scars on her arm from some freak accident in her childhood showed prominently as she trotted over to a large basket full of clothes. Rummaging her beloved favourites. "So you thought it was a good idea to drink more beer after dinner huh?" Star's eyes met mine in the vanity. I suppose she noticed I was watching her, or she's always known. "To be frank, I may or may not have gotten groceries in a bit." I pivoted my ankles facing Star, stretching my arms out to fetch my beer and taking a sip. Star froze her search in the basket cocking her head over to me. "Are you serious Mack!? I told you Monday you should've come with me to get groceries! What do you have for food?!" Star quit making decisions as she leaned forward for her silk rope slipping it on her arms. "Um..well...I have the rest of my 6 pack of beer."

"I see that Mack. I didn't ask about that, I asked about food." Star slipped her bare feet into a pair of white fuzzy slippers towards me. Her shoulder brushed mine as she ripped bobby pins and elastics out of her hair. "You remember that 24 pack of water from Costco?"

"Jesus Christ Mack! You have to stop doing this. Every month you do this, you scrimp and save thinking something bad will happen but you refuse to buy groceries!" Star clenched her hands on either side of my biceps giving me a small shake. "Haha...come on doll, I just forgot. That's all." I pulled away from her arms. Star huffed as her eyes rolled back. "Fine! But, you're going grocery shopping with me tomorrow." Star ushered me out of her room to the living room. Star bent her arm beside the coffee table to grab the tv remote. "You want to finish that show we were watching?" The TV light glowed with the Netflix logo popped up.

I hate to say Star was never confrontational with me, but she was. We would bicker over things but it would never escalate. She's normally a bubbly and cheery personality, though, I've seen Star drag a John 3 blocks by his ankles to an ATM. She has her moments and uses them wisely. "Sure, but I thought you didn't like it? Too scary for you remember?"

"For me yes, you had one more episode but I'm in the mood for toast. You want a slice?" Star sauntered to her little kitchenette for bread and perhaps peanut butter. I hope.

"Sure, why not. What harm can bread do before bed." I slumped into Star's well-loved white couch. Its grooves made my ass a permanent residence known all too well. I left the right corner for Star, as I knew if I dared to sit there I would be scooched immediately.

"Mack, I think you get nightmares from eating sugar before bed, not bread." Star chuckled dropping two pieces of toast in the toaster. In a thankful sight, I saw the smooth peanut butter. Star and I both agree Chunky Peanut is god-awful.

"You may be right, but I swear last time I ate peanut butter toast this late I had that one dream of that freaky amputee girl, you remember? With the glass eye?"

"Haha! Coco! I knew she freaked you out. What kind of dream?"

"Yeah, she freaks me the fuck out. High on fent and wobbling around on a makeshift leg, that girl can cause carpet burn on that broom handle."

"Mack!"

"Haha, I'm just saying that woman was rode hard and put away wet. Anyway, I always have the same nightmare that I'm walking home from work, looking for you and Coco comes up behind me. The chick comes running at me like Usain Bolt." I leaned back onto the couch as I saw Star come around with two plates.

"Maybe you need to take a new route." Star plobbed herself in her usual spot. As she handed me a plate. "Maybe you need a new job Star." My show began without a hitch as Star rustled around to get comfortable. "Mack," She sighed. "Darling in a perfect world that can work, but honey, I'm 57 years old. I've been doing this work since I was your age. I don't know how to do anything else." She muttered as she bit into the corner of her toast.

"I know honey, but there are alternatives. I just don't want you to get hurt." I finished my slice of toast quicker than Star, I leaned forward to place the plate on the coffee table. I slumped back into the cushions stretching my arms out on the backrest. "You're such a worrier. That's all you do. You're too young to worry so much."

"Yeah, I guess so." I huffed, as I held my tongue back. What I wanted to say could throw Star off. She wanted a best friend, I wanted her for more. So much more.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

The ending to my show was shit. The entire series was gory and full of horror, so why is it the last goddamn episode has to be so mushy and lovey-dovey. Star actually liked it. Well, half of it that is. She fell asleep mid-way. Curled up resting her head on the armrest. I slowly got up from my spot not to wake her. Star says she doesn't snore, but I beg to differ. They're faint, but her snores are cute. Especially when she's in a good sleep and you notice a little drool. I picked up our plates bringing them to the sink. I tried my best to quietly turn the faucet to wash the dishes. I didn't want Star to wake up to anything dirty. I nested them into her drying rack as I flicked on the overhead stove light. I tip-toed back to where Star was asleep, turning off the TV. I made my way to the front door before rethinking that decision. I halted to see Star's hands were locked between her thighs. I bet she was cold in her robe. I got close enough to Star to grab the white throw blanket draped on the couch, unfolding it to lay across her. Making sure her feet were covered as well.

I wanted to stay with her, I wanted to kiss her forehead. I had to stop myself before I did something I'd regret. Maybe it was the booze, or maybe it was just me. Being me. I cannot help it, Star's everything to me.

"Goodnight Star," I whispered before opening the door. I locked the door before I left Star's apartment. The cold night air hit me roughly enough to lose my breath. I ran back to my unlocked apartment locking up for the night.

"Luxury is not a necessity to me, but beautiful and good things are." - Anaïs Nin 

[moonchild701]

⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑

Shiny New Toy

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[NSFW] ‼ 18+ >MDNI<

Summary: You see Dabi and decide that you want a shiny new toy. As a treat.

Pairing: Dabi/F! Reader

Content Warning: Non-con/Dub-Con, Kidnapping, Dabi is the victim, Yandere/Stalker Reader, Smut, Lingerie, Praise Kink, Body Worship, Submissive Top Dabi, Power Bottom Reader, Noncon Bondage

Word Count: 2.8k

Disclaimer: Character belongs to Kohei Horikoshi

A/N: Idk man, I just wanna snatch him up & love him :(

My Masterlist

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The first time you see him, you're captivated.

Maybe it's his unique looks or maybe it's that bird quirk gene from somewhere in your family tree, comparing the swaths of dark purple scars and pretty, glittering staples to patterns and plumage.

But either way, the patterns of his scars along pale skin are a mosaic, the staples holding him together are pretty, shining in the glow of the azure flames that dance like life itself in his matching eyes beneath midnight hair, his smile wide and sharp and bright.

He's so very bright. Like the sun, like the stars, like life.

He's so very dangerous. Like a tiger, like a snake, like a dragon.

He's so very beautiful. Like fire, like the belladonna, like a supernova.

And you know, in that moment, that you have to have him.

*****

It's almost pathetically easy.

All you had to do was go to the bar he frequents, bat your eyes in his direction, and he's all over you.

And though that's nice and all, you know men are fickle creatures, and you know all he wants is someone to fuck for the night and never see again.

You can't have that now, could you?

No, of course not.

He's yours, he just doesn't know it yet.

Though, he will.

He will.

He will know it, and he will accept it, and if he doesn't yet, he'll learn.

He easily follows you back to your house, not caring all that much because really, what could you do to him?

Apparently, injecting him with a fast acting quirk supressant laced with tranquilizer as soon as he enters the door wasn't on his list.

The last thing Dabi sees as he passes out is your hauntingly sweet smile.

*****

After a bit of struggle, because you underestimated how much a tall, grown man would weigh, you finally have him tied to the big, comfy bed in his new room in your basement.

Hands tied on either side of his head to the headboard, his ankles secured just enough so he wont be able to kick, but loose enough to bend his knees, he lays stripped down to his boxers.

Gorgeous.

He looks rather peaceful asleep, face relaxed and hair splayed out like a dark halo on the soft pillow below him.

With your time almost up, you strip down to your underwear, the black lingerie you bought especially for him sits soft against your skin. The intricate lace delicate, the fabric perfectly molding to your body, sculpting your curves while enhancing your natural shape; the bit of sheerness to the bra showing your nipples.

You look delectable and you know it.

The soft rustle of the sheets and a quiet groan brings your attention back to the bed. Seeing Dabi waking up, you sit beside him on his right, legs crossed as you push the hair out of his face where it fell from his movement.

Pretty blue eyes blink open sluggishly at first before snapping open, immediately tugging at his restraints and pulling on his quirk, but all that does is rub at his wrists and make his skin pleasantly heated, like he simply has a bad fever. Molten blue glare at you as he snarls, "Where the fuck am I?!"

Dabi is confused. He's pretty sure you're not with the heroes, this wouldn't be how they restrained him, but he also doubts some other upstart villain group is stupid enough to even attempt to pull this shit, so he needs answers.

You smile sweetly at him, like one would a barking puppy, as you run a finger down his cheek, along his jaw to his chin, tilting his head up to hold him in place. "Your new home."

His expression shifts from angry confusion to amused confusion. Though he is still angry, he's curious to see how this plays out.

Humouring you, he asks, "And what the fuck makes you think I'm staying here?"

"Well, you don't exactly have a choice, hm?" You lean down, chest pressing against his, trailing your lips up his throat to his jaw, muttering into the scarred skin. "No quirk, tied up like a present just for me, and no one knows where you are? I get to have you all to myself." Your voice is a purr in his ear as you nose at his neck.

He schools his face into a mask of indifference, "And what do ya want with me, huh?" he asks condescendingly.

You pull back to look at him, amused, because even through the adorable facade of fearlessness, you can see the nervousness in the sweat beading at his brow, the shifting of his eyes, can hear it in his voice and the beat of his heart.

Humming, you gesture to yourself clad in lace. "Isn't it obvious, baby?" At his silent glare, you cup his cheek and coo, "I just want you, silly."

"Ah, of course, you're fuckin' insane." He scoffs, rolling his eyes.

You giggle, because, well, obviously.

You decided that the perfect one for you is one of the most wanted villains.

Obviously.

At his bewildered look, you just smile and slowly drag your hand from his cheek down his throat and chest, familiarizing yourself with the feel of his skin, as you purr, "Maybe. But I do want you.", before gripping his cock through his boxers, making him jerk. "All of you."

A pause.

"Oh?"

Your little darling is already getting excited.

How adorable.

A sly smile spreads across your face as you feel him hot and heavy in your palm, not fully hard yet but getting there.

Palming at his clothed cock, coaxing him to hardness, you coo, "Now what's got you this excited already, hm? Is it seeing me like this, or being tied up?" You can't help but tease him, and oh what a treat the result of that teasing is.

He grits his teeth, turning away in embarrassment, though it did nothing to hide the sweet blush on the healthy skin of his cheeks.

"Aww, don't be shy. I'll even help you with it. Aren't I generous?" You giggle, freeing his now fully hard dick from its confines.

He lets out a hiss as the cool air meets his hot flesh as you bite your lip and supress a shudder at the sight of him.

About seven inches long, deliciously thick and curved, hard and flushed a pretty pink...Yes, this would do nicely.

Truly the perfect choice.

"Sure, so fuckin' generous. Look, I don't fuck crazy. So—" He sneers, but you cut him off, running your thumb over the head and smirking lopsidedly at the way Dabi's hips jolt and the words catch in his throat.

"I'm crazy for wanting you? Don't be like that baby." You know damn well what he means but, well, it's fun to tease him.

"You're fuckin' crazy for tyin' me up in your basement, you psycho bitch!" He spits, glaring, as though he isn't thoroughly trapped and painfully hard; and though he tries to pretend he isn't, he can't hide it, his dick and eyes both betraying him.

You just hum dismissively before making a show of leaning down to press a kiss to his cockhead, before lolling your tongue out, letting your saliva drip down onto his erection, and spreading it; coating his shaft with it for an easier slide.

Dabi groans, bucking up into your touch as you squeeze gently, twisting your wrist.

"There you go," you coo, your tone equal parts fond and patronizing. "Isn't that better, sweet thing? No need to kick up a fuss..." Dabi snarls and tries to jerk his hips away, but you just giggle softly.

And then, like the psycho bitch you are, you pull out a fucking knife.

He freezes at the sight of the sharp blade, staying completely still as you slowly cut his boxers off, the knife only a few inches from his skin. He's careful not to struggle or even breathe until you're done.

Breathing a heavy sigh of relief when the knife is set aside along with the scraps of his underwear, he glares when you chuckle under your breath, before his breath hitches as you grip him again.

You stare directly into his eyes as you stroke his length, murmuring softly, "Such a pretty cock."

Dabi moans at the praise, eyes slipping shut, twitching in your grasp, before he chokes back his sounds, and stills his hips; nails digging into his palm as he clenches his fists, biting his lip to muffle his noises.

And that just won't do.

"No, no, baby, I wanna hear you." You breathe. "You're so pretty baby, you know that, don't you?"

His expression contorts, brows furrowing as his hips give an involuntary jerk; a pearl of precum beading at the tip of his cock and he barks out a harsh laugh.

"So you're crazy and blind. What, you gonna say I'm not scary either?" He says sarcastically, jaw clenching.

"Scary? Fuck, you're perfect, sweetheart..." you murmur, cupping his face in your left hand, thumb caressing his cheekbone.

He ignores you, wanting to light you up with his flames, see if you can still spout your bullshit while you're burning alive. You're just another psycho who doesn't know what you got yourself into.

You pout, "Look at me, baby, please? Let me see those pretty eyes, hm?", all while your hand languidly pumps him.

Dabi squirms under your touch, knowing he should want to escape from the pleasure, but rolls his hips up into your fist instead and complies, eyes slowly peeling open.

You should be terrified of him, with his looks and reputation, with the inherent danger that he is.

And yet, you're staring at him like he's the most beautiful thing you've ever set your sights on.

His eyes are glassy and hazy and gorgeous. You smile and can't help yourself, leaning in to press a kiss to his mismatched lips, muttering, "Good boy."

Dabi whimpers against you, and you swallow it, moaning into his mouth before pulling back and releasing your hold on him.

You can't take it anymore.

He lets out a bitten off whine, but you just kiss him again before you move to swing your legs over his hips, straddling him.

You slowly rock against his hot length, the texture of the patterned lace of your panties rubbing against him making him curse as his hips twitch up.

Leaning down, you whisper in his ear, voice a purr, "You're gonna be a good boy for me and let me make you feel good, aren't you? Make me feel good, hm? "

"Fuck, yes, just let me fuck you already." He pleads, almost whining and you sigh happily at how obedient he is for you.

Though his manners could use some work, it can wait for another day.

Sitting up, you pull your panties to the side, lining up the thick head of his dick to your hole, before sinking down, inch by delicious inch, deliberately, slowly impaling yourself on his fat cock.

You moan in delight as you feel the sweet, accommodating stretch of your tight cunt, the preparation you did earlier almost not enough as he fills you up; Dabi lets out a choked groan as your tight, wet heat wraps around him like a vice.

Closing your eyes, you take a moment to get used to it, to savour it, knowing you're already addicted; shivering and clenching down as you take deep breaths, listening to Dabi struggle to do the same. Bracing yourself with your hands on his shoulders, your wiggle your hips in an attempt to find the best angle.

"Fuck." Dabi bites out, breathless and strangled as you sigh happily, sliding a hand up and tugging the man's head back gently to kiss at his scarred neck.

"Mm, there we go, that's it..." you mumble against him, shifting up and down in experimental little bounces as your thumbs rub soothingly into the villain's shoulders when his breathing picks up.

You feel almost high off of the feeling of Dabi inside you, hard and deep and hot. The thought that one of the most powerful, dangerous and wanted villains in Japan, tied up and at your mercy; panting and achingly hard in bed on his back, because of you, sends a surge of smug pride through you, right alongside the burning arousal.

Your head lolls a bit as you search for the perfect angle and speed, breathing beginning to speed up. The sharp jolt of pleasure shooting up your spine tells you exactly when you find it, making you let out a shaky moan as you slam yourself back down to repeat the motion.

"Fuck, right—ahn—right there." You whine, blissed out.

Your pace, though a little fast, is deliberate and even, your expression content and your breathing unsteady at the heady sensation of Dabi's cock fucking into you, dragging against your insides and stretching you so perfectly.

"Shit, you—" whatever Dabi was about to say is cut off with a strangled hiss as he throws his head back with a moan.

You let out a noise between a pleased hum and a soft giggle, as you lean in to drag your tongue up the man's throat just to feel him shiver.

"Mm, you feel so good baby, so fucking good.", you mumble into his neck, before surging up to capture his lips in a searing kiss and Dabi doesn't even hesitate to return it. You moan happily into the kiss, pace faltering a bit as you get caught up in it.

You devour him eagerly, swirling your tongues together and exploring every inch of his mouth. He tastes like whiskey, smoke and something sweet, and you can't help but smile into the kiss and savour his flavour, knowing you're already addicted to that too.

Clenchimg around him, you roll your hips sinfully, swallowing the delicious whine Dabi lets out when you nip at his bottom lip, his hips jerking up as his hands twitch and clench where they're restrained.

Speeding up, panting, you whisper against his lips, "Look at you, you're so perfect, you're gorgeous ..."

"Shut up—" Dabi chokes out, almost whining, turning away, eyes clenched.

You just hum, giving him another, softer kiss. "I can't help it, you just look so—", you lift yourself up  before slamming right back down,"perfect."

Dabi jolts, squeezing his eyes shut. You bite your lip to supress a giggle at that, leaning back to prop yourself up with your hand on the bed behind you, giving you a better angle to roll your hips and grind Dabi's cock against your sweet spot; your free hand pressing two fingertips to your neglected clit, rubbing in quick circles, making you moan and pant.

You let your head fall back as your eyes slip shut involuntarily, before you force them back open to take in the vision that is Dabi beneath you.

A shiver runs through you at the look in Dabi's eyes, hot and hungry and sinful, glazed over with lust, and you can tell he's close, because he's fucking up into you seemingly unknowingly, mumbling a string of filth under his breath.

And you want nothing more in that moment than to see him come undone by you.

You note every twitch he gives against and inside you, every little sound and shudder.

"Dabi, Dabi, Dabi," you chant, speeding up your hips and fingers; your body alight with the pleasure of not only the feel of him, but the sight of him. "Show me, show me, baby, wanna see it, wanna see you cum for me—" your voice is shaky with your lust, eyes lidded and trained on him.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum, I—" he manages, his words shaky and uneven, voice husky and cracking, thrusts sloppy and deep.

"Yes—ahn— fuck yes, baby, fill me up." You whine, clenching around him, coaxing him to flood your insides.

Dabi cums with a full body shudder, writhing beneath you, his hands clenched in a tight fist as he pulls against his restraints, groaning, almost sobbing, eyes squeezed shut, as he fills you up with his hot cum; and you continue to ride him, even as your own orgasm washes over you, mind whiting out in ecstasy, clamping down on him, milking him, until he begins to gasp and shudder in overstimulation.

Finally, you slow to a stop, letting you both catch your breaths.

You can't help but smile at how beautifully debaunched he looks under you, and you cup his cheek. Your smile widens when he automatically leans into your touch, nuzzling into the your palm.

Dabi is....conflicted. On one hand, he knows you're batshit insane. On the other, you want him, you feel good, and if he's being honest with himself, you're fucking hot.

He looks up at you, seeing the pure adoration on your face and he.....doesn't feel like burning and killing you anymore....

Maybe if he did, he would've been able to actually escape you.

Maybe.

But he didn't, so now...well...

He's all yours.

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[jasperandhenryslovechild]

now that the shock of watching this trailer over and over and over again has worn down a tiny bit i need to ask, what the fuck is that hero costume and what does this mean for the preexisting canon dangerverse timeline

it is evident that these three costumes are NOT the same thing and it doesn't make me happy at ALL.

INDIVIDUAL BREAKDOWN/ELABORATION RAMBLE UNDER THE CUT

this one

is henry danger canon, like in the very last episode.

a muted version of the danger force canon one, with a fugly mustard hoodie with the strings tied so tight that it makes me question his breathing abilities and middle-schooler-who-just-discovered-what-mouse-is hair/j. he looks like he had to pull something together last minute unlike charlotte (curse me for cropping her out) who is literally THE COOLEST ONE HERE why is she not in the movie???? she is literally a fucking cyborg with purple hair someone explain this shit to me??? it's her superiority that allowed her to absolutely EAT THIS UP while henry looks like he just went dumpster diving

it's a vibe but it's also giving ramen noodles so im giving it a low 5/10 out of pity

danger force switches it up on us with this version

henry "we don't wear masks in dystopia, we're kinda above that" hart

this one is my favorite, it's cohesive and it goes together well. it's got the more grown hero vibe that ive always wanted to see in henry ESPECIALLY BECAUSE OF HIS GROWTH AS A CHARACTER!! THE RETURN OF THE KID EPISODE IS LITERALLY ALL ABOUT HOW FUCKING DIFFERENT HE IS AND IM HERE FOR IT SO HARD!!! i will absolutely drop a df henry hyper analysis some day but for now this is what we've got

the shades of burgundy and washed out red throw it together well and i can totally see an explanation behind this costume vs the old one being a simple upscale/revamp. that jacket has pockets to hide weaponry, leather would probably be a lot easier to take a tumble in (+ the knee guards not shown in this picture and like the plastic covers on the sides of his legs that i don't know the name of, implies that he takes enough hard falls to need protection in these areas!), it helps camouflage well in dystopia because the 2 seconds of clips we've seen of that place show that it's pretty dark despite its bright neon flashing lights that give it an evil sanfransokyo at night sort of vibe. it's superhero-y, but it also doesn't have all those staple childhood iconic hero things either— if anything he looks kinda ashamed to be in a superhero show and that's okay/j

overall, 10/10 because it has nothing to do with the capitan man/kid danger brand, it shows henry evolving beyond that point in his life into his own entity after being so soley dependent on ray for his entire previous career in superhero-ing

now to address this fucking monstrosity we were given just a few hours ago

i want to preface this by saying i am not ungrateful. the things i am about to say come from a place of pure dissatisfaction yet constructive criticism. ive been waiting years and years for this movie and i will literally take an hour and thirty minutes of jasper and henry twirling in a circle and make 183829992 edits of it i don't care, i love henry danger sm and the movie looks pretty cool

this being said

dear costume team of henry danger the movie,

have you ever watched henry danger and or danger force? do you even know what you're designing for? be honest, did the producers hand you this stock image

and tell you to make it mean? because every time i look at this costume there is something else wrong with it and it PAINS MY EYES. it makes him look like a cartoony ass space crusader instead of a hero fighting crime one of the most dangerous if not THE MOST DANGEROUS city in the world.

let's break this down, shall we? head to toe motherfuckers.

only not complaining about the hair and it being slicked in the same direction it used to be because it's consistent throughout the entire trailer (unlike SOME danger force episodes... cough cough return of the kid....cough cough.......)

that mask. firstly, i have issues with there being a mask at all, because danger force establishes that there are no masks in dystopia. nobody moves a finger to try and put on a mask, henry even fights SUNGLASSES. those sunglasses ray forces on him to hide his identity are brawled against, he's clearly grown out of masks. putting him back in one puts him back in that kid danger box he's been working hard to build up and out of, a concept established throughout the entire finale of henry danger and further reassured in danger force.

and if you were gonna inarguably give him a mask for simple minded audience recognition, nickelodeon, the least you could do was make it a PRETTY MASK. red was an.. okay choice for the base, but making the silver SURROUND IT? BLACK OUTLINE???? you're trying so hard to be new and cool and it is just painful on the eyes instead. the black eyeshadow under it makes him look like one of those 2020 emo dsmp cc edits and it's just like a throwback to an era nobody wants to go back to. that face card makes him looks like he listens to believer by imagine dragons while chewing that magic bubblegum. his lips are PALE, SOMEBODY GET THIS MAN SOME IRON— OH WAIT, THEY WASTED THEIR SUPPLY ON THIS NIGHT REFLECTIVE SILVER MAKEUP THAT MAKES HIM LOOK LIKE A STOP SIGN WITH A FLASHLIGHT UP IT'S ASSHOLE

then we move onto the base of the costume itself. firstly, the navy blue undershirt cut out to expose his neck says nothing to me. it does not make the statement you guys thought it would— in fact, it makes the whole thing look a pit incomplete? unkempt? it looks like theres something missing and with that black eyeshadow i think it's a thick silver chain SORRY IM DONE I'M OVER THE MASK

the vest over it gives me even more issues. you can't pull up with an audio of ray manchester going "you're not a sidekick anymore, you're a hero!!" and have THEIR FUCKING LOGO ON HIS CHEST. IT'S NOT RIGHT. ON TOP OF THE FACT THAT THE ENTIRE VEST IN AND OF ITSELF LOOKS LIKE IT WAS ROLLED IN DIRT AND HAS THE COLORATION PROPERTIES OF A DYING SEAL, THE LOGO BEING THERE AT ALL IS A MASSIVE ISSUE.

the entire POINT OF THE FINALE was that henry wanted to move on from his life as kid danger. he sacrificed himself and faked his entire death to thousands of people in order to become his own person. he had no life outside of crime fighting because he has no skills or traits outside of crime fighting— he gave up his entire childhood for it so naturally it's all he can gravitate to as he moves forward in dystopia. being a crime fighter once more is a punch in the face enough that he will never really escape who he once was despite the fact that HE GOT AWAY.

HE GOT AWAY.

in NO WORLD WOULD THE HENRY HART I KNOW AND LOVE PROUDLY WEAR THE SYMBOL OF THE VERY MAN THAT FAILED HIM. ray manchester failed him throughout his entire childhood— failed at giving him a normal kid life, failed at providing context and details before or even during the time he accepted the job— and yet here the movie is. he is wearing a rip off of his old costume in an attempt to leave behind who he was. that is ironic, that is HORRIBLE. because by putting him in this FUGLY ASS DOLLAR STORE COSTUME, not only are you retconning the evolution he's been working towards, you are denying him the right to become something greater than just kid danger

in the old costumes, the designs were different because he as a person was different. his entire character arc throughout the hd finale to now was just that, becoming different.

this is not different— this is just an older version of the ghost he's been leaving behind time and time again. dragging him back to his roots. there are millions of ways to drag him back to his roots in the movie itself because those roots will never free him, that is the entire point of him post henry danger and there's so many ways to show that. but changing his costume, one of the only parts of his new hero identity that he himself gets to choose, to resemble his old costume so similarly is just blatantly saying fuck you to the current dangerverse timeline and who that has made him out to be.

my final question is, what does that mean for everything else?

cause like, if the hd/df costumes are no longer a thing in the movie, what happened to them?? why did henry choose this bullshit over the FIREEE costumes in his past?? why would he ever do that to himself bro

and also BLACKOUT?? DO WE NOT GET AN EXPLANATION ON THAT???? BECAUSE EVEN NICKELODEON THEM FUCKING SELVES MADE A THEORY VIDEO ABOUT BLACKOUT BEING JASPER AND THEN WE PULL UP WITH THIS MOTHERFUCKER

LIKE GUYS I'M NOT GETTING IT ARE WE EVER GONNA GET AN EXPLANATION ON WHO BLACKOUT IS AND WHY HE WAS CAUGHT UP WITH HENRY— ALSO JASPER'S JUST TRANSFORMING RANDOMLY IN PUBLIC??? DOES THAT NOT NUKE THE ENTIRE PURPOSE OF HENRYS MASK?????

i do have very good things to say about this teaser, do not let your eyes deceive you, but i also have these complaints that i don't necessarily need answered if not I just need them to be heard

if you've made it this far thank you so much for coming to my insanely long ted talk

[0nonjudgement0]

ꕥ Ring of Thorns ꕥ

Chapter 2: Go Back From Wence Ye’ Came! (Do You Remember That Movie Too?)

Masterlist // Chapter 1

WC: 815

CW: John Price is a shitty husband

It’s only 8:06 am when you wake up, meaning you won’t have to lie to any of the other women in your small town. Well, at least not about what time you woke up. Carefully, you touch the spot beside you. Its blankets have also been pulled down, and it’s warm. He slept on the same bed as you, but not with you. He probably joined long after you had gone to bed, and left long before you woke up. His duffle bag still lays where he put it last night.

It’s 10:30 am when you finish getting ready. “Getting ready” includes taking a shower, letting the water boil you for almost an hour, get out, pull and pluck at any hair, pimple, blackhead, or bump for another hour, do your hair, even if you’re not going out, and get dressed. 

It’s 10:45 am when you finish feeding the two cats and start breakfast when he comes downstairs, wearing a t-shirt and sweatpants, both being the same green as his military-issued clothing. It’s become a staple in his closet. He shaved too, probably in the guest bathroom. It had become his bathroom after he started a fight about how much stuff you had in the bathroom—“This is what you spend my fuckin’ money on?”

He had never noticed that it was all for him. The serums, the moisturizers, the shaving, all to make sure you stayed nice for him. It was pathetic, really. You never expected yourself to be so tied and dedicated to a man. 

He hadn’t—still didn’t—care. Shattering glass sounded a lot like gunshots. You still had a piece of glass stuck in your foot from cleaning it up, but it at least gave you something to do. It’s not like any of it hit you.

“Whatcha makin’?” he hums. You wait for the sweetheart to be tacked onto the end. It’s quiet enough to hear him scratching the coarse hair on his beard. 

The sweetheart doesn’t come.

“I’m not sure yet,” you reply, looking down at the singular sliver of butter sliding around in the pan. 

Another hum from him, more condescending. Your throat tightens. 

“Would you like some tea?” you offer.

“No, I’ll boil some. You make it too sweet every time,” he scolds, followed by the sound of  him rustling through the pantry and cabinets. That's what has replaced sweetheart.

Your heart squeezes, threatening to blow apart and lodge itself in every muscle fiber.

Excusing yourself to grab eggs from the chicken coop, you weep for a moment with the feathery animals as they worriedly cluck around you. Don’t weep, they pray. You don’t even have to give us carrot scraps.

It’s a silent breakfast. The omelets on each of your plates seemed to be the most interesting thing. Two-face and Dolly gather under the table, asking for a piece of bacon and a lick of cooked egg. They both migrate away from John when he shoos them away. You look down at the pair, their pleas quieting into solemn small talk, before looking up at John. He catches your eye, mid sip of orange juice. His movement doesn’t pause, following through with the swing of setting the glass back down. 

In another life, far from here, in central London, both of the fuzzballs would be climbing on him to lick at his beard to try and bargain for another piece after getting full plates. He’d sneak them more treats after. It was hard to believe that ever happened. 

It’s 11:45 am when you're washing dishes after breakfast that you give them each a full piece of bacon. The tears start before you can stop them when they both just stare and bat at it, Dolly giving a solemn mewl. I’m not hungry, she whispers. We already ate anyway, Two-face adds.

The rest of the day is a flurry of nothingness; pacing and fixing picture frames, folding blankets over and over, readjusting the rugs. John stays in his office, surrounded by the walls whispering  back his incessant murmurings. 

It’s 10:56 pm and you're refolding everything in your drawer, when a piece of indigo and sunshine peaks through from the bottom of one of the drawers. Pinching the pieces of lace together, folding the yellow over the midnight, turning light blue into magenta, all you can see are pansies. That's why he got you this set. 4th anniversary, covered in black and blue, hands frazzled to patch up the holes in the bruisingly bare fabric, as he called you his flower and peeled away your shame

He clears his throat behind you. Carefully, your feet shift to face him. His gaze lands on the set, then to your stomach, and thighs, the lingering cellulite and blemishes, the tissue made of lipids.

The set ends up crumpled in the very corner of your sock drawer again.