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magicalbats · 1 month

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Situational Awareness (Dan Heng x reader)

Rating: R-18+

Word Count: 10,928

Warnings: afab!reader, some gendered language, shower sex, intercrural sex, thigh fucking

A/N: I've been working here and there on a few different projects (including my long overdue Kinktober pieces, worry not!) but in terms of standalone fics I figured this one was done so I may as well post it. Am I doing so at six in the morning when no one is awake to see it? Absolutely. lol I'm not a plumber so please don't come at me about the shoddy pipe excuse btw, haha

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The unmistakable evidence of all your fooling around is laying across the floor in the form of hastily dropped, rumpled towels. They’d hit the ground in a disarranged heap after the fall, but were still clean as far as you could tell. Not that you could really ask for more on the off chance that they weren’t considering the fright you’d just given the staff but …

Hanging your head, you make the conscious effort to draw a deep, calming breath and come down from the strange high you’d slipped into. You were sweating rather profusely, you’re a bit surprised to find. What had gotten into you? Hotel devils? Surely that was about as absurd as someone climbing into an oddly inviting but no less strange closet as if they’d been personally summoned into its dark depths by some higher force, and yet that was exactly what you’d done. There must have been something seriously wrong with you.

Perhaps it was the Stellaron inside your body causing problems with the electrical signals in its flesh and blood prison. Or maybe you’d hit your head somewhere along the way and the side effects were only now starting to manifest themselves. Your bet was on the tail end of that showdown with the Doomsday Beast back on the space station.

Either way, you desperately needed to get it together.

Straightening up, you send a wary look at the closet in question. Its doors were still thrust open from where you’d leaped out of its (frustratingly inviting) maw some moments ago and there was no denying the faint tug of invitation you could feel trying to coax you back inside but you refused to heed its call. This wasn’t the time or even really the place. You’d let it get the better of you once and that was already more than enough.

“Relax.” You remind yourself as you inch closer to the closet. Resolutely, you reach out and shut the doors. The compulsion slowly fades to nothing and you’re once again left to your own devices. It comes as a great relief.

A harried sigh escapes you as you bend to retrieve the fallen towels next. Perhaps you should leave a note of apology out for the staff. Who knows what they were saying about you right now, the strange girl who likes to hide in closets and scare the living daylights out of unsuspecting workers. On second thought, though, maybe you should just pretend like nothing at all had even transpired here today. Admitting to your own strange behavior in writing would rob you of any plausible deniability, wouldn’t it?

Turning that over in your head, you carry the small bundle of towels into the attached bathroom. Set them down on the sink and almost walk right back out before realizing that you should probably take a shower before bed. Not only were you covered in a fine sheen of perspiration from your time spent getting all worked up inside the closet but you were also freezing. You hadn’t noticed it when you were still running hot on adrenaline and nerves, but now you were gradually starting to shiver.

Just how long had you been crouched inside the cramped dark like that? You really had no idea, as if that part of your memory were an empty cavernous void. It could have been only a few short minutes for all you could tell, or it could have been an eternity. It was impossible to say.

Pivoting, you reach over the tub and wrench the faucet on. The modestly sized room is instantly consumed by the sound of running water as you step back to shrug out of your jacket and take off your gloves. A moment later you test the temperature with your fingers only to snatch them back with a hiss when you find it still ice cold. That certainly wasn’t going to do.

In total you spend about twenty minutes fiddling with the steel knobs, trying them in this and then that position to no avail. No matter what you did the water never seemed to get any warmer, finally leaving you with no choice but to simply turn the damn thing off. You almost give up right then and there. In fact, you consider it very, very hard.

But what ultimately stops you from crawling into bed with nary another thought to the matter is the shuddering chill that’s fallen over you without any of the fast pumping excitement to keep it at bay. You weren’t just cold in the way curling up with a thick blanket could help with. It felt like you were right on the verge of slipping into hypothermia. The thought of laying awake all night shivering nonstop did not sound like the best start to this Trailblaze expedition so you decide to try your luck next door with March.

She opens up on the third knock, wearing her blue bunny pj’s.

“What are you doing out here at this time of night? I thought you were room service or something!”

“Sorry.” You offer her a weak smile, fighting to stop your teeth from loudly clattering. “I think there’s something wrong with the tub in my room. All I can get to come out is cold water.”

March’s brows take an expeditious trip up to her hairline. “No way, you’re having problems too? I thought it was just me but I didn’t want to be a negative Nelly about it!”

Her arm lashes out like a striking serpent, grabbing you by the wrist and dragging you inside.

The door bangs shut with a certain amount of indignation as she turns to look at you, worry flashing across her expression when she takes in the faint shudder making your shoulders bunch up. Standing this close to her, you can see that her hair is damp.

“Were you able to take a shower?”

“Not a very good one! The hot water only lasted for about fifteen minutes before it started to come out freezing cold!” Huffing, she crosses her arms over her chest. “This place sure does look fancy but I’m so not impressed. What kind of operation do they think they’re running here, huh? Belobog is way too cold for them not to have working hot water tanks!”

You consider that for a brief moment. “Maybe that’s the problem? If a bunch of people are trying to bathe at the same time and using up all the hot water - -“

“Then they should’ve thought of that before they opened up a hotel! I mean, come on. That’s just common sense, right? And more importantly what’s up with you? You’ve been shivering non stop since I opened the door.”

Don’t tell her about the closet. Don’t tell her about your exploits inside the closet. Whatever you do, do not tell her about that damned closet.

“I think the chill is just starting to catch up with me.” You tell her, cool as … erm, ice. “I didn’t notice it too much at first but now I can’t stop shaking. I’d really like to take a hot shower.”

“I bet.” She murmurs. Then, with more enthusiasm, “Come on, let’s see if mine wants to work!”

Taking your hand in hers, March guides you over to her attached bathroom where she flips on the overhead lights. You’re impressed to find it’s an almost identical copy of yours, just mirrored. Actually, they looked like they were directly adjacent to one another and situated along the same wall. But would that in turn mean … they were sharing the same series of pipes? No, that couldn’t be. Such an obvious structural design flaw would have surely raised some questions, wouldn’t it?

Your attention thoughtfully drifts towards March as she bends over the side of the tub and smacks the faucet on. A familiar sense of deja vu comes over you when the gurgling sound of running water rushes in to dominate the air but she doesn’t seem to pay it much mind so neither do you. A few seconds pass before she tests the water, clicks her tongue in annoyance and draws her hand back before trying again just another few seconds later. Truthfully March’s impatience had never been quite so glaring as it is right now.

“Well, isn’t that just ridiculous!” She at last scoffs, evidently deeming the whole endeavor futile and turning the faucet off again. “It wouldn’t be such a big deal if this place wasn’t so cold. How is anyone coming in off the street supposed to get a good night’s rest if they can’t even have a warm shower?”

You ponder that question with the same weight and consideration as the last one she’d posed. “Maybe they don’t get many visitors? Just think about it. How many times have we heard now that Belobog is the ‘last bastion of humanity’? They probably don’t get much in the way of tourism.”

Turning, March pins you with an exceedingly strange look. “I don’t think you’re wrong about that but … wouldn’t that mean they’re mostly just keeping this place running for the sake of it? What a waste of resources.” She gives her head a quick shake. “Wait, that’s not important right now. We need to get you warmed up and safely tucked into bed! Do you want me to go down to the lobby with you to check what’s going on?”

“No, that’s okay.” You quickly wave that off, feeling more than just a little self conscious about causing her any trouble. “It’s already getting late and you need your rest for tomorrow. It wouldn’t make sense to waste so much time helping me with this when you could be sleeping instead.”

“Hey, now. The same goes for all three of us. We’re in this together and you’d better not forget that! I don’t mind lending a hand. We are crewmates after all!

“Thank you, really. But I’m sure I can figure something else out.”

“Fine, if you’re sure … but at least stop by Dan Heng’s room and see if he’s in the same boat as us. If not, maybe he’ll let you use his shower tonight?”

“Oh. That’s a good idea.” Consideringly, you start to turn and March follows hot on your heels as you step back out through the doorway. “He went into the room right across from yours, right? Since they’re on opposite sides, maybe I will have better luck.”

“That’s the spirit! See, you just gotta’ keep your spirits high and everything will work out fine in the end. Isn’t that what they call trusting the process?”

Pausing in front of the door, you pivot to look back at her. “I don’t think that particular saying applies here.”

“Oh, whatever. Just go check in with Dan Heng and if he isn’t having any better luck come grab me again, okay? We’ll go down and talk to the receptionist together if we have to!”

You smile, even though you try very hard not to. “Thanks, March. I really appreciate it.”

Her voice follows after you as you open the door to see yourself out, a cheerful parting of ‘good luck!’ following you out into the hall. Of all the warm welcomes you’d been greeted with upon boarding the Express, hers was easily the warmest of them all. You weren’t sure if you’d ever be able to properly repay her for that but you were certainly going to try.

Out in the long carpeted corridor, you take a measly three steps to cross over to the opposite side and rap at the heavy wooden door. Dan Heng surprises you slightly when he opens up at the very first knock, almost like he’d been waiting just within.

“Is something the matter?”

The stark difference in your two companions' greetings makes something warm flicker to life inside your chest. You’d only known them and the rest of the Astral Express crew for a short while now but it was very much in line with what was quickly becoming comforting and familiar to you. March had been proactive and eager to know what you were doing while Dan Heng seemed to have concluded that something must be wrong if you were coming to his room like this. It was oddly reassuring, in a way.

“This is probably going to sound like a strange question but have you taken a shower yet?”

A vague look of confusion flashes across his face and then camps there. He was far from the most animated character you’d met on your journey thus far, but there’s no mistaking the look he levels on you now.

“I haven’t quite gotten around to it yet.” He says slowly. “I was just jotting down some observational notes in my phone to input in the database later. Why?”

“I don’t have any proof to back it up but I think March may have taken all my hot water. Our bathrooms are right next to each other.”

Dan Heng’s expression shifts and settles into a perplexed scowl. “Is that why you’re shaking? You’d think a place like this would understand the importance of resource allocation …” Sighing, he steps to the side. “Come in. We can check it together.”

Feeling the pitter patter of hope skip across your ribcage, you step inside with him. He closes the door and turns the lock in place (paranoid or overly cautious?) before leading you over to the bathroom. None of these hotel rooms are particularly big and the two of you are soon crowding around the porcelain tub together.

A steady turn of his wrist has the water gushing out, the same scene playing out for the third time in a row. Except it doesn’t take long at all for steam to start rising up from the faucet this go around and you feel like you could just collapse in relief. He still had hot water. You weren’t going to freeze to death after all.

“There,” He murmurs, straightening to his full height again. “Go ahead and take your shower in here. I’ll be in the other room so just give me a shout if you need anything.”

Dan Heng starts to turn, making your eyes go big and round with surprise. “But what about you? I don’t want to take up all of your hot water.”

“It’s fine. I can just grab one after you're done.”

“No, that won’t work.” You insist, reaching over to smack the faucet back off with a little more force than was strictly necessary. “March said she only had about fifteen minutes before the water started coming out cold. I’m not sure how long ago she took hers but when we checked it was still out of hot water.”

“Hmm,” He appears to hesitate at that, his gaze taking on the thoughtfully introspective look you were starting to recognize as the gears in his head turning. “Could it be that they get so few guests staying here that they just closed off some of the hot water pipes to ensure they don’t keep running? It’s not quite cold enough in the city for them to freeze so I don’t think it would hurt anything …”

“Right?” You lift your brows in emphasis. “If Belobog is the only human settlement on this planet then what’s the point in keeping an entire hotel up and running?”

“That’s a good point and I wondered about it as well. Unless this hotel was at one time meant to …” Humming softly under his breath, Dan Heng gives his head a slow shake. “No, there isn’t any point in speculating on that right now. We don’t have enough information to start making inferences. Figuring out what we’re going to do about the current problem should be our priority.”

A quiet beat passes, loud in the absence of running water.

“We could always shower together.”

Dan Heng’s head doesn’t so much as move even a fraction of an inch but his gaze snaps up at you lightning fast. The sharp intensity in his eyes immediately makes you regret saying it. Were you being weird again, despite the absence of the closet to facilitate or otherwise encourage your odd behavior? Or was it really the Stellaron mixing up the radio signals in your brain? You weren’t sure what you would do if you managed to scare him off the same way you’d sent the hotel staff running and screaming.

“Or,” He intones at length. “We could go down to the reception desk and ask them to look into it for us.”

“March said the same thing.”

“But?”

You breathe out a quick huff through your nose. “But that sounds like it might take a while. We’d have to explain what’s going on, have someone come take a look at it and then they’d try to fix it. We already agreed that we’ll have a busy day tomorrow so I don’t want to cause any trouble for either of you. Not if I can help it. This would be the faster solution, right?”

To his credit, Dan Heng’s expression softens in as much as it ever does. Which admittedly isn’t a whole lot, but it’s enough to be noticeable. “You aren’t causing problems for us. Don’t even give it another thought and, please, don’t ever let March hear you say that. I don’t doubt she’d take it upon herself to personally show you just how untrue that really is. That being said though, I can understand the reasoning. Doing it that way would be quicker.”

“But?” You volley it right back at him.

“There’s not actually a ‘but’ here. If you’re sure about it then I suppose I don’t mind going about it this way either. It would certainly get both of us into bed far quicker than any other alternative.”

You don’t exactly understand the eager thump your heart gives at his acquiescence but you allow yourself to smile up at him when the urge suddenly strikes you full force. “Then it’s settled?”

A curt nod. “Yes, although I do hope you actually know what it is we’ve just agreed to. If you change your mind at any point don’t hesitate to tell me and I’ll get right out.”

“Don’t be silly.” You assure him, reaching for the hem of your loose fitted shirt. “I'd never kick you out like that, Dan Heng. Both of us deserve to go to bed nice and warm, and clean.”

He starts to open his mouth — to say what, you’re not sure, because it catches in his throat when you unceremoniously tug your shirt up over your head in one smooth motion. You lose sight of him for a brief moment through the soft knit cotton and by the time you get it pulled completely off he’s pointedly looking elsewhere. Anywhere but at you.

“Is something wrong?” You quietly venture, a soft note of uncertainty creeping into your voice now.

“No, it’s fine. Just … hurry up and get undressed so we can get this over with.” Decisively turning his back to you, he starts to shrug out of his long jacket. You hesitate, looking from him to the shirt balled up in your hands and then down at your own chest. A mild pang of relief comes over you at finding your plain black sports bra very much where it should have been.

So you hadn’t forgotten to put it on. Good. That could have been rather embarrassing for you.

In the same breath you abruptly realize that you were about to take it off and get naked in the same room with Dan Heng who was already working to get all of his clothes pulled off too. He seemed to understand that well enough. Perhaps even more so than you actually did. So why had he reacted like that when you’d taken off your blouse? Surely it wasn’t all that strange for someone to disrobe in front of another … was it?

Pondering this conundrum, you carefully watch Dan Heng fold and set his garments aside on top of the sink one layer and one deliberate motion at a time. His coat and the bracer worn on his right arm make up the bottom of the pile, followed by the lightweight hip guards worn around his waist along with the belt that secured it all. The second skin of his tight black shirt comes off next, revealing a smooth back that flexes powerfully with the overhead motion he uses to get it peeled away. It doesn’t escape your notice that, through it all, he makes a point of not looking at you. All of his attention remains forward and locked on the task at hand, neither uninhibitedly baring himself at you nor stealing any lingering glances in your direction.

It was almost as if in despite of the shared nudity that was inherent in an arrangement like this, he still wanted to give you your privacy. Or as much of it as one could possibly have when bathing with another person.

Was that what it was then? The root cause of his reaction was … reticence on his part? You hadn’t stopped long enough to consider that or any of the other potential implications that came with it but it seemed Dan Heng very much had. If he was behaving this way then you probably should be too.

With that decided, you turn away from him and mimic his actions of neatly folding your top. You don’t have anywhere else to put it though so you have to make do with setting it on top of the toilet lid. The following silence is surprisingly rife with some unnamed tension, interspersed only by the near constant rustle of clothes being removed. Your boots, socks, skirt and underwear are all soon discarded, and you have to try very hard not to look when you hear him shuffle towards the tub again.

“Ready? I’m going to turn the water back on.”

“Go ahead.”

The spout turns with a soft creak and the faucet roars to life, loudly spewing water into the basin. Same as before, and much to your relief, it only takes a few moments for steam to begin wafting up from the noisy deluge and start creeping into your periphery. He quickly smacks the plunger down to redirect the stream to the shower head and the bathroom is suddenly at least two octaves quieter than it was before. You could hear yourself think again. Thank goodness for that.

Silently, Dan Heng steps in first and you quickly scuttle after him. You weren’t keen on losing out on even a single drop of hot water but your refusal to look up from the floor makes actually getting into the shower a bit of an awkward process. You have to feel around with your foot to figure out how close you are and your big toe hits the side of the porcelain a bit too hard, making you hiss through your teeth. Quickly shaking it off though, you lift your leg and blindly step over the rim.

Only to slip when you come down wrong on the other side, the slick surface ripping you off balance with a gut wrenching lurch. You collapse forward, arms flailing, but Dan Heng is quick to grab hold of you before you can hit the floor. Once all I said done, the only thing you’ve succeeded in doing is smacking your knee into the wall.

“Owww …”

“What in the world do you think you’re doing? You could have seriously hurt yourself or broken your neck.” He snaps at you, his tone still as mild as it ever is but there’s no mistaking the sharp bite of reprimand lurking just below the surface. You feel vaguely like a troublesome toddler he’s been tasked with babysitting as he hauls you further into the safety of the tub before reaching up to pull the screen closed with a sound click of his tongue. “I was wondering what was taking you so long to get in but I didn’t expect you to jump without even looking first.”

“I’m sorry,” You murmur, still trying to keep your eyes averted as you carefully work to get your feet situated under you. “I just — I didn’t want to invade your privacy.”

“My privacy?” He echos you, incredulous. “You should have considered that before you suggested us taking a shower together. It’s a little late for it, don’t you think?”

Cautiously slow, you bring your hands up to brace them across his damp chest and gently push. Dan Heng’s hold on you hesitates and then relaxes, letting you pull free so you can take a step back. That his fingers linger at your forearms as if to steady you, or perhaps catch you should you slip and fall again, does not escape your notice, but you decide not to comment on that just yet. Or maybe ever, depending on how the next few minutes played out.

“Sorry.” It’s all you can think to say now.

“There’s nothing to apologize for. While I do appreciate the consideration, there’s no getting around the fact we’re going to see each other naked in a situation like this. It’s okay to look.”

“But?” You whisper into the steady stream of water coming down at his back.

“No ‘but’s. I’d much rather you look than hurt yourself.” His hands shift, adjusting to loosely grasp your elbows. When he gently tugs you in closer to him, you acquiesce without a fuss. You hadn’t noticed how big they were until now and that makes for an unexpectedly convincing argument to encourage your compliance. “Here, get under the shower head. We should make sure you warm up enough before we run out of hot water.”

You can’t exactly argue with that when the rising steam only seems to further highlight just how chilled your skin actually is so you let him get you spun around, trading spots. The steady, hammering rush of warmth hits you all at once as you’re directed into the spray and a violent shudder instantly races up your spine. Whimpering softly, you curl in on yourself as you bring your arms up to wrap them around your upper body. The resulting nudge against painfully hard nipples almost steals the air from your lungs but if Dan Heng notices the way you subtly jolt at the contact he doesn’t show it.

Evidently oblivious, he reaches up to almost casually palm the top of your head. At first you think he’s merely petting you in an uncharacteristic show of doting affection but you quickly realize he’s helping to work the water into your hair, ensuring it’s thoroughly sodden. Still uncharacteristic, or perhaps unprecedented was the better word, but decidedly nice.

Very nice, actually.

“I didn’t take you for the shy sort.” He eventually murmurs, more to himself than to you. No way were you about to pretend you hadn’t heard him though.

“Funny. I was thinking the exact same thing.”

“Me?” His blunt fingers pause in your hair. You can feel him peering down at you through the steamy gloom that encompasses the cramped tub but you were still hesitant to lift your eyes and look. There was no telling what you might accidentally catch a glimpse of.

You really had no idea, truth be told, but given his earlier reaction it seemed like one’s body wasn’t meant to be ogled or stared at. He’d looked away from you for a reason. It only seemed fair if you gave him the same courtesy.

A terse, silent moment passes.

Evidently realizing he wouldn’t be getting any further explanation, Dan Heng exhales a quiet sigh into the thickened air before directing his hands down to your shoulders. “Turn around. I’ll wash your hair for you.”

Not only did that sound like a rare, once in a blue moon offer you were sure to never hear again, it also seemed way safer than facing him the whole time. You were already having trouble keeping your eyes from wandering from the single strip of his bare arm you’d settled on, having had no other choice when you were standing so close to each other.

So you gratefully pivot, giving him your back. Your shoulders start to relax from their defensive hunch now that the warm water is running down your front and slowly seeping into your skin. It seems to feed into the internal temperature of your core as he shifts behind you, reaching around for something out of sight. The next time his hands come up to touch your hair, it’s with a healthy dollop of shampoo coating his palms and fingers.

A soft sigh of contentment slips out of you as he starts to work it into a nice lather over your scalp, keeping your neck tipped back so he could still work without having to deny yourself the comfort of the shower head. He’s as diligent with this as he is everything else, yet so incredibly gentle about it that you almost start to doze right there on your feet. It felt beyond good. It was amazing.

“Gotta’ say I didn’t expect this Trailblaze mission to turn out like this.” He says at length, just when you’re starting to really drift off to la-la land.

Blinking yourself awake, you fix your attention on the ceiling. “Neither did I.”

“And to think, it’s only just started. You’ll have to forgive me if being I’m too rough by the way. I don’t often groom anyone else’s hair besides my own.”

“No, it’s perfect.”

He huffs a quiet laugh but refrains from saying anything further until another minute or two has gone by, and a nice, thick lather has accumulated over the circumference of your skull. “There, that should do it. Turn around again but keep your head tipped back so you don’t get suds in your eyes.”

Obediently, you move to spin around but you seem to have forgotten something rather important in your drowsy state. Namely your close proximity to one another, how very near you were standing to him. But it’s too late by the time you realize your mistake though, and your tits wetly swipe across the lower half of his chest with a sharp burst of fleshy friction. Both of you draw a quick inhale in near perfect unison at the contact and your eyes pop open where they’d started to slide shut again, suddenly wide awake.

For the first time since you’d stepped foot inside the shower, you find yourself looking directly up at Dan Heng. His startled expression must surely mirror yours because for a long time the two of you just stare at one another in mute silence. You aren’t sure what to make of this. Not the situation itself or the twisting knot low in your gut.

You think you should probably take a step back and put some much needed space between the two of you but you don’t get the chance. Unable (or perhaps unwilling?) to find the presence of mind to make your legs move before he reaches up to touch your hair again, you soon find yourself trapped between his arms. He’s got you caged in like this while he dutifully scrubs the shampoo away, evidently too committed to the task at hand to stand down even when a distant note of unmistakable fluster has settled across his normally stoic expression.

And as if Pandora’s Box had been effectively ripped open, like you couldn’t stop yourself now that you’d already looked once, your eyes start to wander. You take in his usually fluffy hair, now waterlogged and heavy across his brow, and the concentrated set of his mouth. Glancing lower, you can make out how well defined his chest and arms are, much more packed with muscle than one would expect from someone who, according to March, spent so much of his time in the databank room aboard the Express. You’d already seen him in action a handful of times though so it doesn’t exactly come as a surprise. He was strong and his firm physique showed that. And even lower than that …

Your eyes widen at the sight of your breasts squished up against him. No wonder you’d felt that brush of skin on skin in such stunning high definition, even for as brief as it had been. What strikes you more than anything though is how soft and pliable your flesh looks shoved up against his. Where Dan Heng was hard with muscle and unrelenting, your chest was soft and invitingly malleable. A distant part of you innately understood that this was the physical difference between man and woman, the biological indicators of sex. It sparks something in the back of your mind and you fumble to grab hold of it, to comprehend what it means.

Your frantic internal grasping is interrupted when Dan Heng roughly clears his throat, prompting you to snap your attention up with a little jolt.

“Just what are you looking at?”

“N - nothing.” You stammer, suddenly embarrassed. You’re not entirely sure why you should feel hot with shame and something else you can’t quite put your finger on but there’s no denying it’s there. You couldn’t tell if you were about to wilt and wither, or bonelessly melt into him.

“I think I may have to take back what I said earlier.” He grumbles. “It might be preferable if you don’t look.”

“Wha - -“

You feel it then. A soft nudge against your lower belly that sends your heartbeat lurching into overdrive and your legs instantly turn limp like overcooked noodles. It’s an entirely instinctive reaction, one you don’t understand anymore than all of the other confusing happenings that have taken place in this hotel bathroom, but when you try to pull away to get a look at what’s tickling your bellybutton, he just clutches at you tighter to keep you in place.

“Please,” His voice is barely more than a hoarse whisper as he bends his head close, wincing even while he presses his damp forehead against yours. “Don’t move. Just … stay there until it goes away.”

His expression is wretched. Dark brows knitted to create a deep wrinkle between them, his eyes so pinched you could barely see the dull blue of his irises through thick lashes. It almost scares you. Almost makes you second guess the wisdom in sharing a shower with someone else. No, that wasn’t quite right.

It was a man you were bathing with and you were … a woman. That was what made this dangerous and ill advised. That was why he’d reacted the way he had at the start of all this. Oh, how terribly you had miscalculated the full scope of the situation.

It’s a struggle to swallow down your jittery nerves and find your voice but you finally manage, somehow. “Does it hurt, Dan Heng?”

“No.” He hisses, contradicting himself and what your eyes were clearly telling you. “This isn’t your fault or your problem. I should have been more cautious, that’s all. It’ll go away in time.”

You don’t think you very much like the sound of that. “But why? Why does it have to just go away if it’s making you uncomfortable? I can help you.”

Dan Heng sucks in such a sharp breath you can feel it rattling around inside his chest where you’re pressed right up against him. “Don’t say that.” He croaks. “You don’t know what it is you’re saying.”

“I can learn. You could teach me.”

“Dammit …!”

He stiffly shifts his weight then, redistributing his balance to the full center of his body. You got the distinct feeling he was trying to angle his pelvis away from you, to pull it out of reach where he could flag and soften without the close proximity of your body heat there to entice him. You rock with the motion though, follow the movement. Stay pressed against him and reach down with one hand to blindly feel for what was causing him such obvious distress.

Your wrist bumps against the stiff flesh jutting out from his body, making him groan very low in his throat. It’s easy to find now that you have a general idea and you carefully wrap your fingers around the width of him, surprised yet delighted to find the skin silky soft and smooth. He twitches in your hold and swells, getting harder. Rapidly filling the rest of the way out while Dan Heng holds himself so tightly that you think he might just shatter and break right before your very eyes. You can’t help it though. Not only was curiosity a very compelling factor here but you also cared about him a great deal. The thought of watching your friend and fellow crewmate suffer in silence right in front of you wrenches at your very heart and makes it hard to think rationally.

And it must be the same for Dan Heng too, because his fingers stay frozen in place as you feel along him. They remain buried in your hair, fervently clutching at your skull, as if you could be the lifeline that would save him but he continues to hold himself back for some reason. It’s hard to say if he’s scared of letting you go for fear of what he himself would do or because he feared what you might do to him with that freedom. He doesn’t try to stop you or pull away though. Just quietly seethes into the scant space separating you as you locate the bulbous head and give it a brief squeeze. That makes a tense shudder work through him, starting in the general vicinity of his hips before racing up to the rest of him. Distantly, you realize that he wants to roll his pelvis forward into the touch, to seek out more and bask in it, but he won’t.

“Why do you fight it, Dan Heng?”

He manages to choke out a mirthless laugh, though not without a good deal of effort. “We only just met not that long ago, for starters. It seems rude to act on such impulses given our brief rapport with one another.”

“I don’t mind.”

“Maybe I do.”

You don’t think you believe that. If he really meant it he would have put an end to it by now, or at least made a greater effort to do so. But he just stands there, softly panting while you follow the length of him down to the base where a thick patch of curls brushes against your knuckles. The weight of him in your hand is surprisingly satisfying and you just can’t seem to stop yourself from exploring him.

Twisting your hand downward, you find even more satiny soft skin waiting just below and you eagerly curl your fingers around that too. It’s incredibly pliant but he sucks in a sharp, gasping breath in response to being handled and your pulse erratically jumps with a start.

“Gentle. Those are — sensitive.”

“I’m sorry.” You murmur softly. “I could be a lot more careful if I could actually see what I was doing though.”

A low rumble starts up in his chest, so faint you almost miss it under the constant spray from the shower head. Your whole body flushes, warming to the point of real discomfort but he doesn’t give you enough time to fully process any of it. Not the unexpected noise or the curling tendril of wanting low in your stomach. Not even the fact that you were currently holding the full weight of his manhood in the palm of your hand.

To your genuine surprise, he starts to pull back. Extricates himself from you with exceedingly stiff motions that leave you fumbling for something to say. Another apology or perhaps a plea. You don’t know which and you never find out, because he grabs you by the shoulders and spins you around. You have no choice but to comply as he guides you forward, pushing you almost right up against the interior wall of the shower and totally disregarding your mouse squeak protests while he does it.

“Stop hogging all the water.”

You open your mouth to snap back in response but all that comes out is a tiny little squawk of surprise when he pulls you back against him, moulding your wet back to the firm planes of his front. His hands drop to your waist then, taking bruising hold of your hips to press your lower body equally flush with his. There’s no mistaking the press of him now, the way it digs up into your lower back and slides into place along the middle seam of your backside like it naturally belonged there. It's as if you’ve suddenly forgotten how to breathe when he stiffly rolls his pelvis and grinds into you, somehow hesitant yet eager at the same time, before forcing himself to go still again.

“Sorry,” He says right into your ear, low and hushed, as the warm spray washes over both of you now. “I thought I could control myself better than this …”

“It’s okay.”

“It's not. You only just joined the Astral Express, not to mention you — the way we found you … it feels like I’m taking advantage of the situation but that was never my intention. I swear it.”

You understood what he meant even if he was reluctant to say it in quite so many words. There was a Stellaron inside of you but beyond that your identity was a complete unknown to everyone around you. Even you couldn’t say for sure who you were or who you’d once been, if you’d ever been anyone at all. That didn’t mean you were without your faculties though. You could still make decisions for yourself and take control of your own life. If that weren’t true then Himeko never would have given you the choice to join everyone on board the Express. This you knew to be true.

So you pointedly push back on him, meeting his next stiltedly reluctant thrust. Dan Heng’s fingers bite into the meat of your hips in return, clutching at you so desperately you half expect to find bruises blooming in the same spots later on. That doesn’t really matter right now though. What’s most important is not only helping him, alleviating the discomfort that so obviously pains him, but also proving your own autonomy. To him as much as to yourself.

“It’s okay, Dan Heng. You don’t have to hold back.”

Groaning softly in what you think must be relief, he huddles close and curls in tight against you. Nuzzles at your temple in a coaxing manner that makes you tip your head back towards him. Water runs down your face in heavy rivulets, matting your eyelashes together, but you pay it little mind. You’re much more interested in the way Dan Heng angles his mouth down and slots it against yours in a kiss that is equal parts tentative and demanding. The heightened state of his emotions is blatant in the hard press of his lips, the hungry pull that makes you want to submit and give him everything he could ever need or want. There’s a distant note of domination lurking under the surface of that heated exchange though, like he was innately drawn to claiming what he wanted for himself, but his level headed manners were still keeping him in check. That wouldn’t do. It wouldn’t do at all.

You quickly make your choice and bring your hands up to take firm hold of his blocky wrists, making sure he doesn’t try to escape. Not that you actually thought he would when both of you were already in this deep, haltingly moving in tandem against one another, but you didn’t want his polite niceties to get the better of him. He either doesn’t suspect a thing or he simply doesn’t care though, because he just keeps kissing you even when you go up on your tiptoes to make his cock drag down your ass. The height difference makes it a bit awkward, a bit unrefined, but you manage to successfully raise up enough to leave him nudging at the space between your legs.

And when you come down again, trapping him in the soft squeeze of your thighs, he gasps like you’d just electrocuted him. The sound rattles inside his chest where it’s pressed into your back but, still, he doesn’t fight it. He doesn’t tell you to stop. Rather, he drags his palms lower to grab two big handfuls of your upper legs and press them more tightly together around him. You nearly lose balance and tip over in this unnatural stance but a quick hand slapped against the damp wall steadies you.

“Careful. If you continue to push this much further …”

The warning in his voice is clear as day but you don’t really care. Not when you could feel the faint pulse of him between your thighs and he was lined up so perfectly with the seam of your cunt that you could feel your own internal pressure ratcheting up another notch. This wasn’t exactly familiar territory, this pulse pounding excitement that makes you dizzy with a need you don’t fully understand, but the instinctive urge to nudge your hips back and forth feels much too natural for you to truly question it. So you just do it.

And oh, how you’re rewarded by the simple slide of him along your slit. Hot, blinding sparks flash behind your eyes and you almost swoon right there in his arms, but you know you have to keep moving. Need to chase that pinprick ember of satisfaction just as much as he does, and Dan Heng only reinforces that when he pulls you back to meet the next enthusiastic thrust of his hips.

A gasp catches in your throat at the wet, meaty smack and lodges there as you tip your face down to look at yourself. Some of your hair slips forward with the motion, wet and clinging, but you hardly even notice it with so much of your attention focused on your own body. Your nudity hadn’t felt so stark before, when you were simply focused on bathing and occupying space with him wherein the two of you just so happened to be naked together. It’s so different now looking at it through the hazy lens of intimacy though, the sight of your tits bare and wet stoking the flames within you to even greater heights. Beyond that, over the soft curve of your stomach and lower still, you can just make out the thatch of hair covering the cradle of your pelvis. And beneath that his cock head nudges out from between your legs, blooming for but a brief moment before retreating back into the tight squeeze.

It was enough to nearly make your knees buckle and give out.

“Oohhn,” You hiss into the constant spray, swaying in his hold. “Dan Heng … that feels - -“

“Incredible.”

You let out a soft moan in agreement, rocking in time with his steady thrusts. The height difference was a good thing, actually. It ensured he stayed pressed up tight against you, constantly knocking your cunt with a fleshy jostle whether he was pulling out or pushing in. It was a continuous cycle of pleasurable shockwaves that quickly leaves you panting just as heavily as he is, and you eagerly writhe against him when the pressure just continues to build and build. You felt like you were going to implode in the most literal sense. What exactly had he done to you?

Had he even done anything at all, or was this just a natural result of your own needs mingling with his and feeding into one another? You couldn’t be sure. It was impossible to think straight when your cotton stuffed head was starting to spin alarmingly fast, but you decide that it doesn’t really matter either way. The drag of him against your cunt was enough. His possessive grip on your body was enough. There would be time to figure everything out later, after you’d properly taken care of each other, and you let yourself rock back into him with an accompanying groan that subtly rises in pitch at the tail end, basking in the litany of sensations.

“Can I —“ He suddenly blurts, choking on it. His fingers sink into your flesh so hard it starts to hurt and you let out a faint whimper while he struggles to reorient himself. “Can I … touch you?”

“Nnghn, ah - aren’t you already touching me?”

“More. I’d like to touch more of you, if you’ll permit it.”

You screw your eyes shut, trying to focus on your breathing. He certainly wasn’t making it easy. “Ooh … please, please touch me, Dan Heng. I feel … I feel like I’m - -“

His hands immediately fly up off your hips and greedily latch onto your breasts instead, lifting the weight of them in his palms. You suck in such a haggard breath you feel like you just might pass out on the spot as you arch against him, throwing your head back into his shoulder. Water from the shower head mercilessly pelts against your face now but you can’t be bothered to lobby any complaints about it when he’s cupping your tits as if they were meant to fit right there in his hold. It’s perfect and sublime, and it just ratchets your own excitement up another notch, making you impotently shudder.

This pulse pounding feeling of cresting pleasure may have been foreign to you, but you could already see yourself becoming irreversibly addicted to it. Perhaps this was even more dangerous than you’d first realized.

“Oh! If you do that …”

“Does it hurt?”

“I — I don’t know.”

He noises a faint sound of confusion at your quiet whimper, his hands loosening around your chest. You’re acutely aware of the odd little look he gives you through the swirling steam but can’t quite bring yourself to turn your face away. Whatever this was, whatever it meant in the long run, you wanted more of it. Needed more of him.

“Don’t stop. Please.”

A small frown graces his lips. “But you just said - -“

“I know. But I don’t want you to stop.” Carefully, you lift your hand — the one not currently braced against the wall — and cover one set of Dan Heng’s knuckles with your fingers. They seem dainty resting against his like this. “It feels kind of funny but I don’t think it’s bad. I don’t really understand what it means but … I want you to keep doing it. Please?”

Groaning like you’d just sucker punched him right in the gut, Dan Heng leans further into you until his weight presses you down into a half stooped position. His skin sticks to your back and clings but this too feels good. His body heat bleeds into you, warming you up far more than the shower ever could have, and you eagerly squeeze the muscles in your legs to keep them locked in place. This time when he kneads your breasts it’s much more tentative and slow. He takes his time with it, just savoring the fleshy give, and you keen very softly when he at last nudges one index finger up to brush it over your nipple.

You can feel yourself sinking deeper into that hazy fog as he starts to move again. The restrained power behind his thrusts sends fresh bursts of static energy coursing through your system, further highlighting the sensitivity of your aching teats as you rock with him, luxuriating in the fleshy drag of his stiff length against your cunt.

Pap. Pap. Pap.

He keeps the rhythm slow and even, but so vigorous that it pushes you forward and makes your tits bounce in his hold. You experience everything in stunning high definition from the slick dampness that oozes out of you to smooth the glide of him between your legs right down to the simple sensation of water running across your skin. It’s overwhelming and somehow still not enough. You couldn’t even think straight let alone formulate a semi coherent sentence, your tongue lolling heavily inside your mouth as you shudderingly rear back into him just to feel that delicious friction again. And he takes it in stride, never faltering no matter how wild you get or how hard you shake as the tumultuous waves crest a little bit higher each time. The firm, unyielding planes of his pelvis meeting with your backside, harder, faster. The distant tickle of coarse pubic hair digging into the vulnerably soft flesh of your ass. Even the low, guttural sounds he makes against the side of your face. You were so close to drowning in all of it.

His thick, callous worn fingers curling up to finally pinch at your nipples is what really sends you over the edge though. The sudden jolt of pleasure so intense it rides the line of being painful almost makes you collapse right then and there, and you throw yourself back into him with mindless desperation. Your hips seem to move on their own even as you cry out for him, judderingly grinding yourself down on that rock hard length pressed up into you.

“Ooh, Dan Heng!”

“Please don’t say my name like that.” He quietly wheezes under his breath, still pinching at your breasts. Still pulling and tweaking, using his thumb to brush over them and flick the tightly coiled peaks back and forth. Your body was a livewire just waiting to detonate, and it doesn’t seem to escape his notice. It’s apparent in the way he’s so insistent with his ministrations, encouraging you to keep moving your cunt back and forth, back and forth against him with nothing more than the attention he gives your tits. He takes his time rolling them between the two pads to reward you for your efforts and he gives them a slow, encouraging tug any time your pace falters and you start to slow down.

It’s a vicious cycle that perfectly feeds into itself a hundred times over and keeps you balanced right on the precipice of some great, harrowing free fall. The world could have come to a sudden, fiery end at that very moment and you never would have noticed. All of your attention, your entire being, was for Dan Heng and only Dan Heng in that moment. His hands, his lips brushing your neck and your cheek when he nuzzles into you. The constant motion of his thighs flexing behind you, driving himself unendingly into the hot, damp spot between your legs. His taller, wider frame trembling against yours with all the pent up tension running through it that so perfectly mirrors your own.

You’d never felt anything like it before, and a very small voice in the back of your mind wonders if you’ll ever feel it again. Was this a once in a lifetime experience? A fleeting mercurial high that would disappear in a flash bang of white noise the second you tipped over into the awaiting abyss below?

If that was the case, if you were destined to bask in this dwindling euphoria once and only once in your lifetime, then you were determined to milk every last drop of enjoyment out of it while you could.

So you drop your hands and reach back, grabbing two biting fistfuls of Dan Heng’s narrow hips. Use the leverage to draw him in against you at a quicker pace, forcing him to snap his pelvis into your backside with greater ferocity. He issues a wounded, faltering grunt into the air but he doesn’t fight it. He hasn’t truly fought anything you’ve offered up to him on a silver platter, not once telling you ‘no’ since you first stepped foot into this bathroom together, and that knowledge sparks a simmering ember deep within your gut. It’s the taste of victory. Of conquest and self assured confidence that can only be achieved through the meeting of two compatible bodies.

You’re sure of it. Innately, or perhaps intrinsically, you just know that’s what it is.

“Oh, gods,” He rattles out, gritting through tightly clenched teeth while he fucks himself between your thighs, pistoning in and out of the tight squeeze like a jackhammer. “I’m so close — so close, I - I can’t hold it back anymore.”

You would’ve voiced your agreement if only you’d had the ability to do so. The breakneck speed at which he ruts into you effectively steals the air from your lungs though and it’s all you can do just to hold on, clutching at his powerfully flexing hips to ground yourself rather than to encourage him. He didn’t need more encouragement anyway. That one little nudge from you was more than enough and now he couldn’t quite seem to remember to be polite and gentle with you.

The wet smack of his pelvis slamming into your ass is now loud, almost defeaning, and it comes in rapid fire succession to damn near down out even the constant spray of the shower head. It just amplifies the already searing friction against your cunt until it seems to blur into a single, persistent tingle that just grows and grows to the point of delirium. He can’t help himself and neither can you. Not anymore.

“Dan Heng - -“

A truly bestial snarl snakes out of him. His fingers falter, slipping and sliding against your wet teats before adjusting to latch onto the bouncing meat of your breasts instead. What little bit of control he’d still been clinging to dissipates like dust in the wind, and he clings to you so hard it brings tears to your eyes. The demanding press of his fingers sinking into your flesh sends you over the edge with a sudden, lurching jolt as your pussy clenches up and squeezes uncontrollably against his length. Even when you wail out in high strung relief, trembling violently in the throes of your release, he just keeps humping into you like he’d die if he doesn’t chase his own pleasure quickly enough. That continuous drag over your slit just draws out your own involuntary spasms and you can’t help but cry out in oversensitized bliss even as you somewhat awkwardly twist in his arms to look down at yourself.

Numbly, you watch his flushed glans appear between the fleshy press of your legs, quickly disappear and then immediately reappear again just a split second later. He’s pounding into you so fast and so hard that the resulting shockwaves make your thighs jiggle slightly under the force. It’s incredibly fascinating to witness though and you stare at it in a trancelike stupor, barely even registering the pitchy moan he lets out right against your temple.

The next time his cock appears it’s with an eruption of creamy white discharge that shoots out to splatter across the floor and the wall, some of it smearing over the skin where the two of you are connected. Hissing like his soul is actively trying to leave his body, Dan Heng haltingly slows to a stiff roll of his hips that makes his length nudge back and forth just enough to drain the rest of his explosive release. Another healthy spurt rushes out of him and then a savory dribble quickly follows, thickly oozing from the tip to drip onto the floor between your feet. It’s over, just like that, and you blink rather owlishly down at the evidence of your illicit encounter as he heaves a deeply satisfied sigh of pleasure.

It’s a little hard to wrap your mind around what had just transpired, especially when you were still floating in the afterglow and well satiated, but you snap back into the moment when he carefully starts to straighten up. You hadn’t even realized he’d dropped into a partial crouch to better accommodate the height difference, and you turn in his hold to look back at him.

“Dan Heng … are you - -“

“We need to get out.” He cuts across you, back to being the same mild and polite Dan Heng you were used to, but at the questioning lift of your brows he sheepishly glances away. “The water is beginning to turn cold so we need to get out before you start shivering again. Otherwise that would completely defeat the purpose of doing this in the first place.”

Oh. You hadn’t even noticed, truth be told, but you shift to the side when he reaches around you to smack the faucet off. The room goes suddenly quiet, save the dull drip of water droplets running from the spout and two sets of deep breaths coming from you and him. You’d been so caught up in the moment that you hadn’t noticed that either but your heart was indeed pounding a wild rhythm against your chest, and you reach up to idly touch over your pulse. Wild and erratic, just like you’d felt leading up to that mind numbing crescendo.

What the hell had all that been?

“Let me get you a towel.” You hear him say, and you bring your head up in time to watch him flick the screen open with a sluggish motion.

“What about you? You didn’t even get to wash your hair.”

Dan Heng looses a soft bark of laughter as he steps out onto the waiting mat, giving you your first real look at his nude body. He’s all lean and svelte with a perfectly tapered waist and broad shoulders, and — he abruptly turns to face you without warning. You’re suddenly looking right at him. The cut lines of his pelvis and the perfect little bellybutton stamped right in the center of it; the damp mess of dark, dark hair crowning his softened cock and the unmistakable weight of it …

Blood rushes to your face so fast you feel vaguely faint even as you smack a hand up to your mouth and quickly look away in embarrassment. You’d never seen one before. Or at least, you’re pretty sure you haven’t. That doesn’t exactly stop your body from reacting to it though and your knees turn instantly wobbly again to accompany the instinctive urge to touch him, taste him. To feel him moving inside of you with the same keen ferocity he’d shown your thighs. Gods, you were like some kind of pervert!

“After all that you’re finally getting shy?” He laughs, bemused, but you can’t quite bring yourself to lift your gaze again. The risk of jumping his bones seemed far too great for you to take that chance right now. But luckily for you, Dan Heng is much too conscientious to hold it over your head and you soon catch the sound of him shuffling for a towel just another moment later. “I’ll cover up if that will make you feel better but don’t think you’re going to get out of this without having a talk with me first. I meant it when I said I had no intention of taking advantage of you. This isn’t something we can just pretend never happened, you know.”

Cautiously slow, you peek over at him from the corner of your eye just in time to get one last good look at his tight backside before a towel slides into place around his waist. You may not have been able to see it anymore but that certainly wasn’t going to stop you from thinking about it well into the foreseeable future. Curse him and his gorgeous body. “Are you … upset that we did that?”

“Not at all. I only want to check in with you and find out what you want.”

Now that manages to throw you for a loop. “What do you mean? I wasn’t expecting anything in return.”

Sighing softly, Dan Heng pivots back around to face you again. “That’s precisely why. You obviously have no expectations in place and some men would probably try to take advantage of that to use you for sex. I’m not like that though. If you want to do this the right way then I would likewise be amenable to that possibility. If you want to keep things casual that’s fine too. And if you never want to see my face again … well, I couldn’t exactly blame you for that I suppose.”

Confusion marches rampant through your mind until the lightbulb abruptly clicks on. He was talking about taking responsibility for his actions. Of giving you the proper respect and courtesy of having a choice. Dan Heng clearly had no desire to withhold an actual relationship from you if that was what you wanted but he also wasn’t going to force it on you either. How interesting. How very — chivalrous of him.

Your heart gives a tiny little thump against your ribcage, and you smile over at him. Eager and pleased by this revelation, but a bit nervous too. Whoever would’ve thought something as benign as sharing a shower together out of necessity would end with talks of a potential future together.

“Is everyone on the Express as old fashioned as you are?”

He smiles back, gracing you with a small but no less frustratingly charming grin. “In this aspect, I’m afraid it’s just me. Think you're up for it?”

“Yeah, I think I might be.”

⭐

Crossposted: here

#star rail #dan heng #dan heng x reader #self insert bullshit

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eluxcastar · 5 months

Note

Number 13 and 14 with Arlecchino

Arlecchino being comforted by her s/o

── ୨୧：arlecchino x reader

୨୧﹑synopsis :: arlecchino comfort drabbles yesyes

୨୧﹑genre :: sort of fluff

୨୧﹑content :: gn reader, possibly ooc because it was written pre fontaine quest, not very proofread, arlecchino is implied to have issues with self-image/perception

୨୧﹑words :: 2.2k

"I could see the worst parts of you and still think you are the most beautiful person I've met." "I'm going to ask you how you are and I would like you to answer me honestly."

IT'S HERE you guys always spoil me 13 is my favourite prompt and you are the first of two to request it. completely unrelated but this is so familiar to what Kae said a few days ago (months now omg 😭) when we were talking about One of Repetition and it fits those two so well 😭❤️

to the anon who requested furina it'll take me a minute to figure out how to write her because I haven't played the archon quest but I'll watch some cutscenes and do my best for you

I'll also be using this because I got it in the middle of writing this and thought it fit the idea I had going super well 🙏 that makes three Arlecchino requests with prompt 13 😭 also second anon you're fine dw you guys are free to do with your requests with these prompts as you like, mix them together, add extra descriptions and rambles it makes it more fun 👍 thank you btw 😭❤ feel free to give yourself a name for future requests if you want ❤️ I love having new anons

prompt list

It is not often that Arlecchino shows her doubt, maintaining that half-pleasant façade to hide it all. If all people see is a ruthless woman with no regard for loyalty, then the details don't matter. There's no need to question, no need to dwell. She is one thing and nothing more, and she much prefers for nobody to notice the hesitancy in her drastic decisions, the thin-veiled regret as she watches the children she witnessed grow up go on to become valiant children of the Tsaritsa.

If there is anything more, it is disregarded as her unpredictability. She is a roach in the eyes of others, and perhaps she's ok with that…mostly.

To hear someone say "I love you" is strange to her, though it shouldn't be by now.

It shouldn't be unusual to wake up tangled in the sheets with you by her side or the struggle it ends up being to leave that mess as you try to convince her to spend five more minutes with you. It shouldn't be odd to discover that you've gone ahead and made her tea in anticipation of the time she will wake up or to have you remind her every morning that you hung her coat up to dry after she dumped it over the back of a chair the night before or to see you wandering around going about your own job.

But those events all feel surreal to her, even though she has watched you walk your patrol path a thousand times now, and she has seen you slack off where she sits by the window of Zapolyarny when you think nobody is looking.

You are very real, there's no doubt about that.

The things you do never click with her, however.

Perhaps you are real, but she made up these fantasies after watching you loiter by that one spot in the garden a little too long.

Yet every evening, you meet her in her office after you're officially let off for the day, and you usually bring snacks. You are most definitely there, then, as she watches you struggle to get through the door without damaging whatever you found for her to try, usually only small, a pastry you managed to get that you absolutely mustn't knock from your hands.

"I tried to get something that wouldn't make a big mess all over your stuff," you usually say, sometimes hacking on a 6guilty little "But~ these just looked so good…" to try and excuse you for bringing something that would cover her desk in crumbs.

Arlecchino doesn't mind because you went to the trouble of getting her something.

She got you a special chair to pull up and everything, and anyone else who uses it can deal with the death glare they get or find a different one.

But perhaps she made that up too, conjuring the image of someone fumbling their way through her office door to greet her with a smile, sometimes with jam on your mouth from taste-testing the gifts that she'll point out to you that you hurriedly wipe on your sleeve and pretend it was never there.

Maybe she put that chair there for nothing, and it never really moves, and each time she thinks this, she is sure this fantasy will all disappear.

However, every evening, without fail, as the sun begins to set out the window and the room is dyed an orange hue, the door opens, and there you are again. Delusions can't possibly be that persistent, and you would've scowled at her when she approached you in the hallways if you weren't aware of this relationship.

So it must be real, which she's well and truly aware of. There must be a person out there who sees what she cannot, someone who, by some miracle, manages to see past the things that block out all of the good. How can a person see anything but someone unworthy of their love?

What else is there to see?

The idea of a person who deserves to be loved beneath bloodshed has become unthinkable.

For a person who has been exposed to Arlecchino's worst sins, who has seen everything, and whose worst offence in life is a little laziness on the job, how is it possible to look at her and smile?

Arlecchino often wonders as she watches you. She how you go through your routine of placing your things down, whether on the desk or beside them, then all too happily mosey on off to get your chair and drag it over to sit across from her. She doesn't know why it's this particular day that she asks. Perhaps the fact it was weighing on her mind after a recent mission had her list of redeeming qualities shrinking further and further. It is in her job description, and there are plenty of worse people in this world.

But do you deserve to be stuck with one of them?

"Did you ever feel pressured into accepting my feelings for you?" Arlecchino asks the question so suddenly as you're halfway through walking back with your chair that she sees the exact point you register what she said, freezing in place from the shock. "Whether through status or power," she adds.

You blink a few times before all the motion in your world resumes to greet you with the image of her staring you down from the other side of her desk, patient and waiting for your response. "Sorry?" You let the chair go to return alone to her, standing in the place where you always put it. "I don't, uh…follow? I'm sorry, I just— I'm not sure what you mean?"

She hesitates, momentarily glancing down before her age returns to you and your uncharacteristic expression riddled with worry. She must've made you upset again.

"You want to be in this relationship? With me, that is…" Arlecchino struggles to think of the words, saying them as soon as they appear in her mind. "Even though you know the kind of person I am, you still want that?"

She studies your face as carefully as she can, watching the way you react as you absorb everything you just heard and assumedly try to put a response together in your head. Arlecchino has noticed before how you take longer to speak than her sometimes, but it tends to make everything you say more thought out, though you may end it like you're unsure.

"Well, I mean…if I didn't, wouldn't I just—" you pause for only a second— "break up with you?" There's silence after you finish. She doesn't say or do anything. To Arlecchino, that strangely almost makes sense, but you must be far too bold to admit that to a Harbinger. "It's not that I want to! I'm a little--…well, I think I'm just a little bit confused where that's coming from."

"I was thinking about it." You frown when she admits that. "Some of the things you have seen of me are…" Is there even a word to encompass that? "unbecoming of a lover."

Is that the right way to phrase it?

Again, you pause, and the telltale signs of consideration cross your face. An intense focus that barely lasts, and Arlecchino waits through it all to allow you your chance to answer, intent on allowing you that much. A few seconds more, and your features relax, looking back at Arlecchino with a tender gaze. "There's not really one 'right way', is there?" Your question, though rhetorical, strikes a chord with the many impulsive responses that flood her mind, all of which she keeps to herself. "You just kind of...try your best. Things might work out, or maybe they don't— the point is that you mean well and put in the work."

"That's not enough," she argues, "you deserve better."

"I deserve what I want." Your rebuttal makes sense in theory, but what do you want? She struggles to make sense of that part, the answer muddled by all of her thoughts and lost in her doubts.

You could ask anything of her, and she would do it. Any material possession, every feeling, more love than you know what to do with in any form you desire—physical, emotional, intimate—and yet you never do. You accept her awkward hugs, that it takes her time to relax when you lay your head on her chest, the fact she sometimes snores, that her clothes may very well be covered in bloodstains when she comes home depending on uncontrollable circumstances.

You never ask for the things she has plenty of power to give you in return for those flaws.

She shakes her head, "but surely you want more."

"I don't."

"There is a lot wrong that you deserve compensation for."

Arlecchino clenches the pen in her hand tightly, feeling the slight distress of pressure around it. She can't articulate what, not in the way she understands it; flaws is too broad of a term to use. You would instantly know and understand what she meant in a perfect world, but the world is not so generous.

"Like what?" you question. You feel that it’s obvious that nothing Arlecchino will struggle to say will shake you. She opens her mouth, prepared to refute it, headstrong and frankly stubborn as ever, but nothing comes out.

There is silence for a moment, and no one rebuts what you say. Nobody can. The only other person in the room fights with herself to yield and give in to your unwavering loyalty. In your mind, she is everything you want. There is nothing else you can ask of her than to simply accept that you wish to remain with her if only she will allow you to through her own emotional turmoil.

"Are you listening to what I’m saying?" you ask, frown creeping back onto your face as it tugs the corner of your lips down, seemingly against your will, "I could see the worst parts of you and still think you are the most beautiful person I’ve met."

Another chord is struck, her heart beating so loud it thrums in her ears like suddenly becoming aware it’s been threatening to beat out of her chest the entire conversation. She breathes, shaky and caught up in her own surprise. Somehow, she didn’t expect you to be so sweet in your words or throw her off guard so abruptly. She finds it hard to believe them. Arlecchino’s worries haven’t disappeared, only dwindled. It helps, if not completely. There is a reprieve in listening to you.

You have seen the worst of her, every crease she hasn’t ironed out, her sometimes rotten personality, her stained clothes, the weapons she cleans in your home. You have seen her walk to greet you covered in blood and gore from a savage fight, kneel before you and hold your hand with the same hands she uses to kill vagrants and petty criminals, kiss your skin with those lips that spill the vilest of curses against her enemies.

Before she realises what she’s saying, she blurts out a question, "Do you really believe that?"

It is quiet, reminiscent of how gently you looked at her earlier as her voice barely breaks a whisper, and she can’t bring herself to break eye contact with you once she finds the courage to make it.

"I do."

You smile at her, hoping she will smile back. A faint smile graces Arlecchino’s lips, ever the handsome picture. Her sincerity is comforting after such a scare. You still worry, and perhaps you will never stop with the way her mind likes to trick her. How long had she thought you secretly looked at her with disgust this time? You fear you won’t have an answer again, though you desperately wish for one. As much as you notice her awkwardness, dismissing some of it and observing other parts with more scrutiny, it is hard to make her talk to you at times.

"Thank you." It is all Arlecchino can think to say in response as she forgets what else she was going to challenge you on. It will return eventually, and she will face it again, but for now, it settles. Arlecchino can reasonably bury her doubt for a time.

"Can we keep talking?" you ask.

"About anything," she confirms with a nod.

You turn away, walking across the room in pursuit of retrieving your chair from its designated spot by the wall. You pull it along, dragging it over the floor, and set it down across from her on the other side of the desk you’ve been talking across. Your seat welcomes you as it always does as you settle into place, now comfortably at eye level with her.

"In that case," you begin, taking the pen she holds and wriggling it from her hands. She relinquishes it without much of a fight, allowing you to place it off to the side out of the way. "I’m going to ask you how you are, and I would like you to answer me honestly."

"Anything for you, my love."

#♡ — anon visit.#✦ — scenarios.#✦ — fluff.#arlecchino #arlecchino x reader #genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader

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student-in-nightraven · 2 years

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Twst dorm leaders with an affectionate S/o

A/n: btw as for the minors basically everyone besides vil Idia Leona and malleus, this is not sexualising them it's just a fluffy scenerio

Riddle rosehearts

He is not used to affection at all so he's gonna be so shocked when you hug him for the first time my boy was confused he was like

"is there something you need?"

And your like "nah I'm just hugging you"

he's like "oh."

So he's very happy of course, plus he's touch starved (I mean who isn't in twst?)

"do you want me to stop?" "Oh no no it's fine I quite like it, I'm just not used to it is all" riddle said as he's faced reddened. After that hug he really liked faint wholesome touches here and there, such as hugging, headpats, high fives, hand pats (don't ask why i just see him patting your hand) etc. And when he does these often that means he feels safe around you since he only shows this side of him only to you, seven forbid ace and cater find out about this.

nah they lowkey saw riddle resting he's head on your shoulder with a happy look the face, they snickered and riddles head whipped so fast, then ofc they got the good ol' "off with your heads!" But overall he genuinely feels safe around you and absolutely loves having tea parties with only you.

Leona kingscholar

Okay so he's a smug bastard, so he acts all cocky when you show your "soft side" to him but on the inside he's over the moon. He loves how affectionate you are and how you show it tho ofc he'll never admit that.

"eh herbivore I'm always the one asleep on your lap didn't expect it to be the opposite"

"I don't even know how I managed to be sleepy before you but it is what it is" you said slowly dozing off

"yeah whatever, don't get your hopes up because this is a one time thing" he said coldly, you hummed as you drifted off. once he made your you were fast asleep he gently stroked your hair, his eyes filled with nothing but admiration

"I swear you have a love spell on me herbivore, it's annoying"

Azul ashengrotto

Like riddle he is touch starved, the only affection he received was from he's mama and no one else, so one day when you just go up to him and kiss his cheek his face goes wild red

"heheee look jade azul looks like goldfishie when he's maddd~" Floyd laughed at azul

"Fufufu indeed he does floyd~, dear prefect has quite a strong affect on him" Jade replied with a closed eye smile

"s-shut up! Both of you! Go back to your jobs otherwise I'm cutting off your salary!!" Azul screeched at them, the twins then backed off leaving you with a flushed octopus

"ahem..s-sorry dear prefect ahah.. it's just, you see I'm not very used to physical affection not that I don't enjoy it, no no it's quite the opposite"

"oh I see, well as long as I'm around you'll get used to it!" Azul smiled, satisfied with your answer as he hugged you and patted your back

"I have to go back now, i promise I'll make it up to you after we close the lounge"

"Ooo were gonna go to the aquarium right?"

"yes, since that's what you've been looking forward to, tho I don't understand why?-"

"it's okay azul you don't have to understand everything" azul scoffed at that comment but then patted your head and went back to doing he's work

Kalim AI-Alsim (I have no idea how to write he's name I'm sorry)

You guys are made for eachother like holy shit soulmates all the way, he loves affection, you love affection, perfect match. Jamil is so tired of y'all tho generally feel bad for him it always goes like this:

"KALIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIMM" you yell running to him

"S/OOOOOOO" he yells back also running to you with he's arms out ready to tackle you, then you both tackle eachother and end up falling on the floor, Jamil in the distance contemplating his entire life like

"why was I born?

Why did I have to see this?

what did I do to deserve this?"

But you two are too preoccupied yelling your guts out

Vil scho....yea hell no I am not even gonna try to write he's last name

Okay this can go one of two ways. 1. He loves the affection but wont necessarily show it or 2. He hates it and will poison you if you don't get tf off him right no-" yeah I'm just kidding that was a joke, he loves it, he isn't touch starved he gets a lot of attention, just not like genuine love so he appreciates the fact that you love him for who he actually is and not because he's popular and pretty, like Leona he'll never admit that outloud but he enjoyes it.

Vil was doing he's makeup Infront of the mirror when you entered his room waving at him from the mirror

"hello dear prefect how are you doing"

"oh I'm doing fine, what about you? Anything new?"

"I'm doing good as well, also not much, except for the fact that epel threw another fit about not wanting to wear the uniform" vil sighed as you laughed

"yeah you'll never get him to wear it that's for sure" you said as you kissed the crown of he's head, vil looked surprised for a moment but he's eyes softened as he continued doing the makeup, he'll never say it outloud but oh how much he loves those faint pecks on he's head

Idia shroud

(my favourite omg 💗😞)

He is the most. Touch starved person in NRC, forget malleus and riddle he takes the cherry on top, so imagine the first time you kiss he's cheek he's hair goes all pink and he's screeching like "AH PREFECT WHAT WHY DID YOU KISS ME?" Don't mind him it's not that he doesn't like it he's just never expirienced it, ever so he's covering his face with his hands while rocking back and forth breathing fast, almost like he's having an asthma attack or something- so when you manage to calm him down he apologises, you of course tell him it's nothing to be sorry of and you two move on, but not Idia, he was thinking of a way to make it up to you, so that's why he took 3 weeks of courage and managed to kiss you on the cheek but then vanished from existence, no one knows where he went, only ortho.

Malleus draconia

He loves you no questions needed, and I'm not really sure if he received any affection? I think he did from Lilia but who knows, what I do know is that when you peck he's lips for a split second he reboots, he's trying to process wtf just happened and then when it hits him it hits him like a train, so he's smiling like little kid Jimmy when he first gets he's bicycle, he asks if he can and kisses you back, the kiss lasting a bit longer, after you said your goodbyes my man was skipping to he's house, he was like a sunshine he was so happy he was like

"Lilia prefect and I shared a kiss"

"oh great that means you must get married now"

"oh really?"

The next day you woke up to the whole nrc being covered in your favourite flowers and you were questioning if this was a ceremony of your funeral or smth. But in all seriousness he loves you. And wants your hand in marriage. N o w .

The end

#twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #riddle rosehearts #riddle x reader #riddle x mc #riddle x yuu #leona kingscholar #leona x reader #leona x yuu #leona x mc #azul ashengrotto #azul x reader #azul x you #kalim x reader #vil x reader #idia shroud x reader #malleus draconia x reader #x reader #fluff

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dragoncookies · 3 months

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The Unlocked Healing Center Scene

There are many, MANY scenes in which you could pick apart the ever-loving shit out of Fitz's dialogue and his actions, or just look at how his character is treated from the POV the scene is being told from and compare that to what objectively might be happening.

But one of my favorite's has got to be the Unlocked healing center scene from Keefe's POV, because GOLLY was Fitz just bagged on in that scene, in an almost undetectable way.

(This also isn't meant to be hate on Keefe btw. He's a fine character, not my absolute favorite, but there's no reason to hate on him. It just so happens that Keefe's POV of Fitz is especially patronizing in this scene).

First of all, Shannon starts the scene with presenting us with how lonely and sad he was, just straight up:

”sadness

Nervousness

Regret

Loneliness

Plus a hefty dash of anger.

Coming straight from Fitz” (-Unlocked, idk what page lmao).

I mean, the man was grieving. He just broke up with his maybe girlfriend AND lost the only chance he had to finding his terrorist older brother (who might or might not want to end him and who has caused him and his family immense stress/trauma for the past 4 books if not their entire lives to a degree) in one fell swoop (because of the maybe girlfriend he trusted a lot, not to mention Fitz values trust almost more than he does love so you could basically say the girl he loved).

Me personally? I would just cease to exist after that, but here we have sad, nervous, regretful, lonely and angry Fitz in the healing center waiting for his maybe-bro to wake up.

Once Keefe DID wake up, Fitz was nothing if not worried for Keefe and trying to comfort Keefe. Fitz was obviously GENUINELY worried for Keefe. Look at this:

”Fitz tore a hand through his boringly perfect hair. ‘I get why your mad. But I’m only trying to help. I know what you’re going through-‘

’Right-you totally know what it’s like to have you mom do deadly experiments on you,’ Keefe muttered. ‘I must’ve forgotten that part of the Vacker history.”

’Maybe not,’ Fitz conceded, ‘but I know what it’s like to have a traitor in the family. And I also remember how scary it is to wake up in one of these cots after being brutally attacked-just like I know how hard it is to talk about what’s wrong, because it feels like you’re admitting the Neverseen beat you. But they only win if you keep pretending everything’s normal, because you end up making the damage permanent.’

’I’m not damaged-‘

‘You’re right. That’s the wrong word.’ Fitz blew out a breath. ‘Look, all I’m trying to say is that I wouldn’t be walking right now if I hadn’t let Elwin help me. I probably wouldn’t even be alive. So I want to make sure you get the help you need-and you do need it, Keefe. No matter what you believe. But accepting help doesn’t make you weak. It just means you’re taking care of yourself.’”

Such an underrated Fitz moment, imo.

First and foremost, lets just take a second to point out the "boringly perfect" hair comment. I don't know why this stuck out to me, but it shows how differently these two characters think. While Fitz has his hair styled "perfectly" because its been his lifestyle to maintain a perfect façade, here we can see that Keefe STILL doesn't understand just what goes beyond this perfect façade of Fitz's. Keefe values freedom, loves rebellion, and his hairstyle reflects that. Keefe makes it messy, but a masterpiece. To Keefe, Fitz's hair is just generic and standard. Perfect, well presenting, but it follows the standard of whatever is considered "perfect" to elves, so we can see that it is repulsive to Keefe's nature.

This is much the same as how much Keefe sees the scale of what Alvar's disappearance has done to the Vacker Family. Keefe continues to reject the idea that the Vackers aren't as perfect as he once believed. As soon as Fitz even mentioned the idea of empathy for Keefe, the idea of relating to him, Keefe immediately rejects it, and rejects the idea that Fitz could have gone through any mental/emotional turbulence as a result of the horrendous situations Alvar has put him and his family through. I mean, for crying out loud, Fitz had literally tried to kill his brother in an emotional mess of conflicting feelings and guilt just two books ago, and unheard of crime for the elves. Fitz had to spend weeks and WEEKS in the healing center. Keefe was there when Alvar, on his deathbed, described how the "Vacker Legacy" was what drove him to a life of crime.

Yes, Keefe was having a rough time to put it lightly, but taking it out on others isn't justified (if you want to be mad at Fitz for taking his anger out on others, now you have to be mad at Keefe for taking his emotional distress out on his friend). We can certainly understand it, but we can't justify it, and because the POV is from a likable character, we're more willing to trust what the character says. Since Keefe presents Fitz's actions in a way that makes them seem appalling and jerk-y, and if Keefe presents this idea in his POV that Fitz is always Mr. Perfect and never has trouble in his family, then the readers are more likely to believe that. Objectively, based on what Fitz is saying and doing, we can see he's struggled and is struggling a lot. Fitz had to have worked on learning to receive help himself (asking for help is a SKILL, believe it or not) in order to truly explain how important it is to Keefe in the way he did.

Who just says "Accepting help doesn't make you weak, it just means you're taking care of yourself" and doesn't mean it in the kindest, most sincerest way ever?

Not just Keefe can take this advice, anyone should.

Side note: I also feel like he gave himself bad flashbacks to when he called Sophie damaged in book two when he accidentally used the word here. Ouch.

At another point in this scene, Keefe also shows how irrational he can be, as Fitz is simply trying to do the right thing and get Keefe the help he needs, and Keefe is ABSOLUTELY DEMONIZING Fitz for it. Keefe's health was Fitz's priority, and Fitz didn't necessarily care if he stepped on Keefe's toes to get him the help that he couldn't see he needed (Sophie was in the room as this point):

Unlocked page 561:

“‘Uh, you should probably step back, Sophie,’ Fitz warned. ‘I think your emotions are too strong for him.’

’No, they’re not!’ Keefe argued-and wow,did his voice sound strained. He cleared his throat and tried again. ‘Nothings wrong. I swear, I’m fine.’

’He keeps saying that,’ Fitz told her-because he was begging for a face-punch. And if the world hadn’t gotten so spinny, Keefe might’ve given it to him when Fitz added, ‘But Keefe’s been picking up all our emotions without even trying. And he’s always been able to do that with you, so I think you’re overwhelming him right now.’

’Okay, I’m done liking Captain Perfectpants,’ Ro announced.

‘Keefe was right there with her-which was probably why he blurted out, ‘Uh, for the record, most of the emotions are coming from you, Fitzy. You wouldn’t happen to have some unresolved feelings for anyone in this room, would you?’”

I'm not gonna lie, if somebody read my emotions and called me out on something that I was VERY touchy about, and was a relatively new blow, I would just leave the room. That was an A class jerk move right there.

Not saying Keefe IS a jerk, because all the characters have acted jerk-y in the series and everyone has their moments, but it was still pretty rude of Keefe to make that comment. What’s annoying is that nobody in the books seemed to react as though it is rude when Keefe makes these kinds of comments. If it was anybody else who had said that, there would be an apology required in order for that character to be redeemed.

Keefe also literally wanted to PUNCH Fitz, because Fitz was...making sure Keefe stayed alive? Because Fitz cared enough about Keefe's health to make sure the details were pressed out and make sure the facts of the situation were clear? So Elwin could actually do his job??

Keefe hated Fitz in this moment because Fitz was being a practical, helpful guy, but from Keefe's perspective it just makes Fitz look like an asshole.

Ro’s unsolicited opinions are also very unhelpful, since Ro is written to be in support of what Keefe wants (or just in support of whatever will make Sokeefe happen…she’s kind of creepy about her Sokeefe obsession ngl), it makes her more likable and therefore the readers are more likely to trust what she says or take her opinion as their own.

But Ro saying things like “I’m done liking Captain Perfect Pants” is rude, because it 1), insinuates she will only like someone based on how much they please her, and 2) denotes him to his perfect facade, which undermines his brilliant and complex character.

Eventually, Keefe tried to apologize to Sophie in a telepathic conversation. He didn’t remotely consider apologizing to Fitz.

I mean, Keefe was crazy terrified and hurting but...I don’t get how when Fitz was hurt and acted out he was suddenly “toxic and trash”, but when Keefe did the exact same thing nobody said anything.

And nobody even knows Fitz is hurt because nobody asks him. Nobody talks to him about how hard the Alvar situation is for him because they’re scared he’ll just get mad and yell at them, or they just assume he’s just mad about it and wanted to kill Alvar.

Is nobody going to see that there’s some deep emotional/mental trauma to unpack here? Is he always just going to have to help himself all the time?

At least Keefe has people who understand him, who are willing to talk to him about what’s wrong and help him through it. He had a seriously traumatic childhood, and I’m not comparing their trauma or anything, that’s not what I’m trying to do. What I am trying to say is, Keefe’s got a whole crew of people helping him, people who want to make sure he’s okay, people who care for him, and he rejects it, deems them annoying in Fitz’s case, and just discounts the effort and energy they spend on him.

There is a lot more to unpack from this scene, but it’s mostly all along a similar vein of what I talked about here (this is long enough haha). There are also tons of little details about the Vackers in Unlocked that just emphasize how pressured Fitz is into the Vacker mold, and how the Alvar drama just makes it worse.

For example: reading Fitz’s registry file, it says that it is “highly suggested that he choose someone on his match list” because of how dragged the Vacker name already is. So when people want to get upset with him for choosing "his reputation over Sophie", we have text evidence that its more complicated than that. Fitz isn't just choosing between being liked by the world and the person he likes, he's choosing whether or not to maintain a level of peace within his family at his own sacrifice. SPOILERS! (if you haven't read stellarlune don't read the rest of this paragraph). Eventually it was his sacrifice, because as of stellar lune, Sokeefe is official. Fitz couldn't repair things with Sophie quick enough, so she moved on.

It also mentions in Keefe’s detention slip write ups about how people actually hassle Biana and Fitz at Foxfire for Alvar being apart of the Neverseen. Because of their family, because of the Alvar drama, Fitz and Biana can't go to school without people bullying them.

Theres also this sad note in Fitz’s Base Quest instructions where Fitz writes about how you can use you special abilities while playing base quest, but included a little side note that said “but it's no fun when you turn invisible the whole time and hide Alvar!” Which just insinuates that Alvar would turn invisible and leave to go do whatever else he wanted while Fitz still thought they were playing. :(

Depressing.

#kotlc #fitz vacker #keeper of the lost cities #keefe sencen #kotlc headcanon #kotlc fitz #sophie foster #kotlc sophie #kotlc stellarlune #kotlc keefe #kotlc unlocked #kotlc unraveled #kotlc keefe sencen #kotlc fandom

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astaraels · 2 months

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so I know I'm in the no galladads side of the fandom but hear me out on this one—

so it's maybe five years after the end of the show, Ian and Mickey are still going with their security business, maybe they've even branched out and hired some extra help, making good money, swapped out the stolen ambulance for actual SUVs that Debbie has fixed up for them, and they've maybe even bought a house back on the South Side with a dog and a cat and they're close to all of Ian's siblings (Debbie and Carl and Liam all still live in the old Gallagher house, Lip and Tammi are a few blocks over)

and one day they're on a lunch break together, leaving some diner when some rando kid bumps into Ian, turns out it was a pickpocket, and Mickey takes off after the jerk who tried to steal from his husband (he may not be a South Side thug anymore but like hell is he gonna let that shit slide)

he knocks the pickpocket over and it's some kid, like thirteen or fourteen with bright pink streaks in her dark hair and fierce brown eyes, and Mickey is like wtf kid do you wanna die

and the kid is like oh fuck you, very much an angry kitten type because she's definitely a scrawny thing—by this time Ian's caught up to them and his bleeding heart is like look if you give me my wallet back I'll buy you lunch (Mickey complains that "we just ate, Gallagher" but Ian insists)

so they either go back to the diner or find some McDonald's and this kid practically inhales some burgers and fries, and both Mickey and Ian know the look of a kid on the streets, but she's giving off those vibes that say don't touch me don't talk to me don't fucking perceive me

but Ian probably sees something like Mickey, and Mandy, in this girl and we all know he wants to help people, so he asks her if she's okay or if she needs anything, and even though he can feel Mickey starting to grumble next to him Ian still offers her their couch to crash on after she mentions getting kicked out of a salvation army shelter because they found out she was trans

and after some very intense eye to eye communication between the husband Mickey's like okay yeah fine but if one thing is outta place in the house then we're gonna have words

and the girl—they find out her name is Starr, or something like that—is like wtf why are you people being nice (they understand the suspicion, obvs, they aren't stupid), and Ian's like uhhhh we're gay and we've gone through some shit of our own so maybe we just wanna help?? (although he does notice she relaxes a little bit when he tells her that they're gay)

so they drive back home and Starr is absolutely enamored by the gallapets (a beautiful fluffy black cat and a big pittie mix, both of these animals are Ian and Mickey's baby girls), while Ian fixes up the spare bedroom with fresh sheets—usually it's where Franny or Fred stay when they come for weekend visits

and at first Starr is like okay yeah I'll stay one night but then I gotta go, and somehow it ends up that one night turns into two, then Ian and Mickey come home one afternoon and the house looks amazing because Starr is like "yeah your place was a fucking mess so I figured I'd clean" because she's not a freeloader gdi

and before they know it she's been there for a few weeks and Ian's trying to help get her back in school, because one night they were sitting around and talking and she offhandedly said that she does kinda miss school but the last place she went they were assholes about her transition, and Mickey is like just do that homeschooling course thing that maybe Tammi talked about one of her bougie friends doing for their kids

and then it's been a month or two and they bring Starr to a Gallagher family get together—Debbie hosts the family at the house at least twice a month, but everyone's been super busy lately so it's been a while since the last family dinner—and Debs gives Starr a hug and is like "oh so you're the kid my brothers adopted" (she and Sandy worked things out btw and have been back together for a while now, they've even maybe talked about getting married)

and Starr is like oh no I'm just crashing for a bit but by this point Ian has already got her the homeschooling correspondence courses, and Mickey's taken her to find a doctor who can prescribe her HRT ("it was on our route anyway, fuck off, Gallagher") and their pets adore her—Ian jokes that their cat is the one who actually adopted Starr, they just went along with it

and basically I just love the idea of them taking care of a young queer girl, and being like the cool gay uncles, and yeah :')

#gallavich #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #shameless #maybe I'll put this on a to write list <3 #galladads #starr verse

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tarjapearce · 10 months

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Hear me out the book of life x bbg miguel 😍 it could either be like La muerte reader and xibalba Miguel and if that’s to ooc for Miguel then Manolo Miguel and Maria reader🙏 I feel like it’s a little ooc either way but PLSSS😞🙏

🤭 It's fine dear. I think, Miguel would do a great job as El Catrin, I feel his personality is more inclined to go with it, and the reader, well, Xibalba. Mischievous, kinda tricky but still so so loving and a softie for him :')

No proofread, just randomness ahead

"Why would I want to rule the Land of the Forgotten?" Black wings tucked behind your back as you stared at Miguel. Red eyes blinked unamused at you.

"Why can't we share? I could do a pretty good job too."

"Mi cielo, Who would watch over the land? You have the talent for it."

"You're just saying that cause you don't wanna share. The Land of the Forgotten is boring! With capital B! Nothing ever happens. It's so depressing all the time. No colors, nothing!"

"It's your realm. You're there cause you cheated on a wager." His finger flickered your nose.

You groaned in annoyance. Of course you would try and ask but to no avail. His decision absolute.

"Let's make a wager then." Smirking you planted yourself before him, his nose flared softly but waited for you to finish.

"A wager?"

"Yes. A wager . See those two boys there? They're always fighting for that girl's attention. And you and I know that only one of them will come out victorious."

"And?" His eyebrow quirqued.

"If my boy wins, I'll have your land. If the other boy wins?-"

"You'll stop meddling with the affairs of men" He caressed your cheek before disappearing.

"But it's the only fun I have left, my dear! You scared of not winning?" Your fingers walked over his chest and smirked.

-----

The wager was on. He had blessed the boy he rooted for with a pure heart, but you on the other hand had given the little jerk of a kid, an ominously beautiful looking black and green medal. The Eternal Life Medal. Whoever wielded it could be no harmed not killed. Your plan had been on a roll without any signs of stopping. Now everything you had to do was wait.

----

The two boys turned into men, both persuing their passions. Yours turned into a respectable and famous soldier that always ended up living to tell the tale thanks to his magic medal none knew about. And Miguel's boy had grown into a famous bullfighter. Even though both were different the love they had for the girl, now a lovely looking woman, remained the same.

But you had seen the hesitation in Miguel's part of the bet. Despite him being a famous matador, he didn't wish to inflict any more pain in the poor animal. He wanted to sing.

The woman seemed impressed by his act of mercy. You would have to step up in your game if you wanted the Land of The Remembered.

----

A two headed sneak had bitten Miguel's boy, he had gladly took his role among the dead if that meant to rescue his beloved.

A rare sight among the perverse humans. A pure heart. Of course it was cheating, but it'd make you one step closer to be the ruler of such wonderful and colorful land.

---

Your name echoed through your old realm as Miguel roared, full of anger. He had discovered what you had done.

"Repugnante hija de burro leproso! Hiciste trampa. Otra vez!" ( You misbegotten daughter of leprous donkey. You cheated. Again!)

"I did not do such thing!"

His boy was there, facing you, needing answers. And so was Miguel.

---

You had put Jim through his worst fears, a maze that somehow he was able to decipher, and the final test. El Toro. (The Bull)

A manifestation of every single bull slayed by his ancestors.

Miguel's boy had won the wager. You were to return to your realm.

"I believe you've won the wager again mi amor. Just like my heart, all over again."

His eyes softened and a bony finger was brought to your chin.

"I'm really sorry my love. Would you ever forgive me?"

"I do"

He pulled you closer to give you a deep kiss as the skies exploded in colors.

-----

(Love this movie btw 🥹❤️)

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #t writes✨#book of life

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genericpuff · 5 months

Note

This is stupid, but you know those new LO hoodies the Webtoon shop has? I know the font they're using. It's Eckmannpsych which is an Adobe font.

That's not the stupid part though. The dumb part is the capital H and G in the Eckmannpsych font do not match what is on the hoodies, which would obviously be on the hoodies that have Hera or Goddess on them. So, Rachel looks to have taken the time to hand draw her own H and G to match the font style for those hoodies but did not take any time to make new, better art for the merch, but instead reused ugly panels from the comic. Talk about a strange look into her priorities. She doesn't like how the G and H look on a font? She will remake those to fit what she wants. Rachel when the assignment gives her the chance to make specialized, better designs for those same merch? She can't be bothered to even try. WTF!

for the love of god-

I'm assuming and hoping they had the commercial rights to that font LMAOO But it did kind of make me go 🤨 because while I didn't know the font EXACTLY off the top of my head it still felt... weirdly out of place for something like LO? Why are these hoodies being stylized like they're from Austin Powers LOL

On another note tho, the LO merch is just like... disappointing in how bad it is for what's supposed to be WT's #1 series, which is, btw, a series with so much unique stylization that it shouldn't even be this hard to make merch for it! it just feels very "first attempt at redbubble merch", but unlike genuine first attempts at making merch (which is obviously a learning curve that I wouldn't judge anyone for being new to) this is a company that's sunk shitloads of money into LO so I don't know why they can't get better merch made?? so much of it is just the default drawings taken and slapped onto a tote bag or t-shirt, which like, yeah cool fine you're using art that's recognizable and considering the art is already made, it stands to reason that they should use it for more than just the comic. It's just disappointing to see how lazy it often is and how little effort is put into translating it onto a t-shirt/tote bag/etc. like we can't even have ONE exclusive t-shirt with a unique design that isn't just poorly copy pasted from the comic?

Case in point, those t-shirts that Rachel was advertising a while ago that were actually straight up falsely advertised. I can't find the post about it on my Tumblr (I'm pretty sure I talked about it here) so here's the IG story rundown I did on it ages ago:

Again I'd really like to have benefit of the doubt here that Rachel isn't the one making these designs, usually that's not how the merchandising process goes in these types of deals, so I'm not gonna point the finger at her. But it's just so odd to me that it happened in the first place. And this goes for a lot of LO's merch, so much of it feels cheaply made and rushed off a conveyor belt for the point of making money without much expense. Which yeah, that's a business model for sure, the goal is to profit, but like this?

You can't even argue that it's like people criticizing LO the comic because like, as much as I'll justify what I spend my time doing here in my free time, it's true that at the end of the day I don't have to pay for LO, so really the only thing I'm doing is inflicting psychic damage to myself, it's not like my actual money is on the line LMAO That's why I stopped paying for LO ages ago and only do it when I have a specific episode I need to review (such as the midseason hiatus review series I did). At the very least, if I really want to keep reading LO but don't want to pay for it, I can just avoid FastPassing it and read it for free so I can save the coins for other series I'd rather read. The Webtoons' FP system is very fair that way.

But this is merch explicitly made to generate revenue. It is a product, front to back. You can vote with your money by not buying the thing you don't like, absolutely, but the fact that it's this poorly to begin with is just so indicative of Webtoons' business practices and so shitty for the people who genuinely enjoy this comic and are being advertised and sold shoddy merchandise that doesn't even come looking the same way it's advertised. It's really not a good look for Webtoons, Rachel, or LO that this is what they're selling to people.

Especially for what they're charging, good lord-

Like, okay, they're hoodies and they're gonna be expensive to print and ship so the higher overhead cost makes sense, but jesus christ, with the kind of merch Webtoons has already given the stamp of approval on, would it even show up in decent condition? How bright are those colors gonna be? Are they gonna strip off as soon as I throw it in the wash? I'm half-tempted to buy a hoodie for myself just to do a review on it but I can't justify dropping $75 CAD on a hoodie that only has art on the back. Maybe it's just me living in the hellish lands of Canada where we play with toy money that's the problem, but it's just not a gamble I wanna take LOL If I bought one it would probably be the Hecate or Hermes ones because they're the only ones that are at least somewhat legible and have decent character art that isn't a character looking like they need to poop LMAO

(these are literally the two worst drawings they could have chosen of these two i stg lol the only thing that would have made this worse/funnier is if it was Handsome Hades and Persephone Kidnapping a Baby LMAO)

It has me worried about what the LO figures are gonna look like when they release. Are they gonna have some creative liberty with making them chibi-fied (like a Nendoroid?) or are they gonna try and replicate the art style exactly and wind up making literal blow-up sex doll Persephone? 😭

NGL, if the figures are done well enough and don't cost an arm and a leg, I might consider buying one just for the shelf collection, but again, it depends. If Webtoons released a tarot deck with really good panels from LO (like the Tower 4 scene or Persephone sitting on the rooftop with her comb or Eros flying down into the Mortal Realm) I would buy the shit out of that. I would even just take the Major Arcana if 78 cards was too much to ask :'0 I'm not against Webtoons/Rachel trying to profit off LO merch at all, I just wish it was BETTER- (╥﹏╥)

#lore olympus critical #lo critical #anti lore olympus #ask me anything #ama #anon ama #anon ask me anything

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barbiecrocs · 1 year

Text

Serial.

Michael Myers

tags- fem!reader, horror, soft gore, breaking and entering, size difference if you squint, rough sex, blood, piv, monster fucking (just bc this man is monstrous), dumbification, hair pulling, 90s ig, the mask stays on during sex. WC. 3861

Barbie's note... can't believe I used to be on my knees for this man. Like I used to be in the trenches frfr but if yall like him enjoy. after all I did write it to be read. I might go back into hibernation btw.

The storm that brought your birthday party to an early end sends most of your friends home for the night. The bipolar winds knock leftover party cups and plates into the pool. The storm seems to be having a party of its own in your backyard. It practically plucks your backyard apart bit by bit. You raise your hands to your temples and rub them in stress. The only thing you could do was sit on the sidelines and watch.

"Sigh, the sound of rain is so therapeutic…Too bad the storm is destroying your backyard. This is not a pretty sight." You hear an oncoming voice say.

"Kate, you shouldn't be so relaxed. You have no ride home now. You should've gone home with your sister and the others. It's raining cats and dogs now." You complain and look over to Kate, noticing her outfit. "Did you get that from my closet? You took my whole ‘My Melody’ set! Even the slippers! I only have one set! The rest are just shirts! I was going to wear that after my shower!" Your eyebrows furrow in distaste for her stealing one of your favorite pajama sets. She could've at least asked right? Man, you really have to kick her out. You roll your eyes.

"Jeez, take a chill pill, don't get your panties in a twist. I wanted to leave, but I guess I took too long to take a shower and get changed out of my swimsuit, so they left without me. She told me that she was going to come back after dropping everyone else off." She starts to tap on the glass with her acrylic nails as her eyes flicker back and forth between you and the glass. "That doesn’t make any sense, she’d just be wasting more gas and my time.” You roll your eyes. “Jeez, no need to be in such a time crunch, your bed isn’t going anywhere, anywhere far at least,” Kate says. ‘Ugh! So insensitive at all times.’ You think. “You know Kate, I had other things planned tonight!" You huff.

"Ooh? What did you have planned that was so important? It’s almost midnight-. Oh. OOOH? Is it what I think it is? Were you and Miles going to fuck? Is that why you’ve been hanging by your phone so much?” She says, continuously poking your arm. Your cheeks run hot as she continues to press you with flustering questions. “Maybe that’s why you’ve had such a stick up your ass because you’ve been waiting for him to stick something up there. Are you keeping it ready for him huh? It’ll slip in nice and easy-.” “KATE!” You interrupt, practically steaming with embarrassment and shyness. “What?” She snickers. “Did I hit the bullseye?” “Just… Just shut up!” You stomp. “Fine. Fine. You wanna take another dip in the pool to cool down? Or perhaps the rain, does that sound like fun? Becoming one with the rain. It sounds lovely, an absolute dream." She smirks, unlocking the backdoor.

"No, no it doesn't sound like a dream. It's a hot summer night turned lukewarm and I bet the rain is uncomfortably warm too-" "Come on!" She interrupts, yanking you outside so hard that you topple over, good thing you were still in your swimsuit. Can’t say the same for Kate though.

She starts to skip around the pool playfully as if the rain was nonexistent. "Kate, ugh! You little shit, you're lucky I'm still wearing my bathing suit! Plus, you're getting my clothes wet! What was even the point of taking a shower if you were going to go back outside? Sigh You know what? You should stay outside and really be one with the rain. Have fun!" You shut the door as she runs over, slipping on the wet pavement.

"Hey! Don’t leave me out here! Come on, it was just an impulsive decision. I was just having fun since the party was ruined! Loosen up a bit!" She yells, muffled through the thick glass of the backdoor. You put your fingers in your ears and pretend like you can’t hear her. She’ll be fine, the rain was warm, plus there’s a patio set with a waterproof hood so she doesn’t have to stay in the rain.

'Great, now I have a mixture of chlorine and rainwater on me.' As you walk inside the house you notice that you left the TV on and overhear it from your open kitchen.

*T.V static* "Emergency news coming to you live from Los Angeles, California. The news channel where we relay urgent news in under five minutes!" Reporter Nancy says while thrusting her hand in the air to represent the number five. "Nancy, stop, this is serious news. We are here to relay information about a serial killer sneaking into backyards and killing residents living there. Numerous calls were made to the emergency hotline, 911, saying that there was someone in their house or giving us details on what the deranged man looked like. He stands somewhere around 6'7 and wears a dark blue jumpsuit. He wears a mask that hollows his eyes and he has brown hair-"

The TV suddenly cuts off as if it was unplugged, yet everything looks in check. It wasn't unplugged, the TV isn't smoking like it's broken, the power is fine, and it's not like you turned it off manually or remotely.

'Wow, it's the first time I actually sit down to watch the news and the TV decides to cut off.' You think.

You bang on the TV in hopes that it'll cut back on, but no luck. "Ugh, old ass T.V.! I told mama that she should've gotten a new one! This shit is so outdated. We have had this since I was ten! That's a decade!" You pout.

You look out the glass backdoor and see Kate, happy as ever, texting someone on a huge duck floatie in the pool with little to no rain outside now. Like what the hell? It was just raining. You unlock the sliding door and call out to her. "Hey, Kate. You should come inside now. It would be a hassle for your sister to drive back over here. You should spend the night." You say, cursing yourself for your generosity. "Really? Now you want me to come in? I'm good. There's no need to be so concerned. We're on private property. No one else can enter without permission, that's illegal. Plus, the rain is warm just like you predicted. She should be fine while driving, seriously. I'll just wait until my sister picks me up. You act like I'm ten years old. I don't need supervision." She rolls her eyes.

You return the same energy with an eye roll. "So naive, your funeral… Just know that I will be locking the door." You mumble and pull in the curtains. If she doesn't care about her safety then neither will you. Your objective was to take a shower, not look after her anyway.

In the middle of your shower, you hear the house phone ring. You let it ring for a while before realizing that Kate can’t answer the phone for you. With a long sigh, you rinse off, grab a towel, and head to your room, wanting to put some clothes on before going downstairs. You throw on a Kuromi pajama shirt paired with loose black shorts and head downstairs.

'Was Kate expecting a call? Maybe it’s Kate’s sister and she’s here to pick her up. Maybe it’s Miles? We were supposed to fuck for my birthday tonight.’ You skip down the stairs, hoping that it was the second option, and pick up the cream-colored phone just to hear heavy breathing on the other side. 'What the hell?' You think.

As you're about to hang up your movement is forcefully put to a stop. You feel your heart sink as a painful throb begins to travel up your arm, making you drop the phone on the table. You fully tune into this sound as if nothing else around you matters. It’s so loud in your head even though the phone is no longer in your ears. Every nerve inside your body is tense and telling you to hang up, but the breathing is so captivating, trance-like if you will. Listening to the sweet sound as if it was someone humming your favorite tune or singing a soft lullaby. It's so alluring, arousing almost. It mentally sucks you in and the noise alone brings a physical warmth to your skin, supplying false comfort like a hug. It takes away the pain in your arm just as fast as it gave it. As you listen for longer you start to notice the raspiness in the voice. This wasn't like a white noise machine or a random audio on loop. There was someone behind it. In and out, in and out, in and…

Suddenly, you hear Kate scream bloody murder and you snap out of your trance, unplugging the phone and rushing toward the back door. Yanking the curtains open and analyzing the pool from inside, the scene that is held in your eyes is mortifying.

Kate lays there on her back, lifeless in a puddle of her blood on the rubber duck floatie. Her hair is a mess and you can see signs of a struggle on her body. The stressed clothing, choke marks, and some of her fake nails are broken off, leaving her fingernails bloody. Her phone is no longer in her hand, but slowly sinking to the bottom of the pool. Heh, it looks like it still works, the screen is on. Blood flows out of the stab wounds on her throat and chest as the light rain continuously tries to wash them away.

Your eyes frantically scan the pool area for the culprit. And somewhere in the darkness that is the other side of the pool, you see a tall figure step forward, making you jump back from the glass.

A man in a dark blue bloodied jumpsuit, standing around 6'6 - 6'7, wearing a mask with brown hair. Just seeing this man triggers something in you, as you've unlocked a memory. Have you seen him before? No way, that can't be possible, there's no way that you've seen him and not run away screaming. Then it finally clicks. He was the murderer that was described on TV. He fits the description perfectly. The mask, hair, height, the only thing the description was missing was the blood.

Goosebumps tatted your skin as you begin to panic. You hold still in hopes that he has bad eyesight or somehow can't see you through the clear glass door, as if that's possible. He remains completely still and at some point, you wonder if he really can't see you. Maybe the mask messes with his vision?

Suddenly, he starts to make his way around the pool and so you run into the living room to dig in the couch cushions for your mom's pistol that she keeps for "unexpected guests".

You hurriedly load the gun and speed back to your place, tripping over a bunched-up rug. You tip back and fall flat on your butt and point the gun in his direction, waiting for him to round the corner. Your hands are shaking from adrenaline and your nerves are high. At this point, you're hyper-aware of everything happening to you. Blood is coursing through your body from head to toe because of this intense situation and yet… you feel a second heartbeat, this one wasn't in your chest, it was between your legs. Why was your body doing this?

Was this turning you on? You feel obloquy and disappointment fill your heart as you think about such taboo and shameful things. Many thoughts swarm your mind, but everything is put on hold as he rounds the corner.

He stands in front of you, only the glass door standing between you both, but it isn't long before he busts through it. Glass comes shooting your way and you shut your eyes and cover your face in defense, not realizing that you dropped the gun. You were too late to protect yourself properly and tiny shards of glass grazed your skin. Some cuts are a little deeper than others, but the overall damage was minimal. Luckily, due to the adrenaline, you couldn't feel the pain.

You open your eyes when you realize that the gun is no longer in your hand. You look around on the floor until you notice unfamiliar shoes planted right in front of you and snap your head up just to see his dark, hollow, eyes staring at you.

In a panicked rush, you continue to search for the gun you dropped, trying to keep your eyes on him. Patting the area down like a dumbass, you still couldn't find it. Only for a split second you look away and grab it, but a large hand roughly grabs you by the neck and the other snatches the gun away, throwing it somewhere towards the stairs. Your hands' fling onto the hand choking you, attempting to tear him off of you. No avail, his grip was firm and you were slowly, but surely losing air.

He lifted you with ease and put your back to the other glass door that wasn't broken. Trying to cause as much of a hassle as you can, you thrash around, kicking and punching, but it wasn't doing anything to his firm body. 'What is this guy made of?'.

You start to feel hot tears prickle in your eyes and your face feels like someone is sticking pins and needles in it. Heat piles in your chest and your heart starts to beat slower and slower. After what seems like a lifetime of flopping around, you finally land a good kick to his stomach. His grip softens on your neck and you loudly gasp for air, coughing up a storm as spit lulls out your mouth and down your chin.

All too quickly, he grabs your legs and wraps them around his hips to stop you, putting you both in a rather intimate position. With you being pinned to the glass, you stop resisting and catch your breath.

As you calm down, you notice just how close he is, how you can practically feel his heart beating through his chest, how his leg is tucked snuggly between your thighs, and all of a sudden your feet can’t touch the floor. The mood between you two was shifting from panicked to steamy. You felt ashamed of yourself for thinking in such a way. You could die right now, but all you could think about was how big and warm his hands were around your neck. You could no longer find it in yourself to even look in his direction. But your surroundings are all too familiar, nothing else besides him can keep your attention.

His grip tightens on your thighs as he leans into you. With closing distance, the more you can feel his clothed length slowly push against your thin shorts, twitching and aching to be sheathed in your now soaking, cunt. You wrap your arms around his neck and shut your eyes as you wait for him to plant a kiss on your lips. Instead, you feel surprisingly warm kisses along your jawline to your neck. His lips find your sweet spot, making you jolt in pleasure. As he starts attacking your neck with hickeys and bites. You feel a cold hand travel from one of your thighs to the hem of your shirt. He tugs on the fabric, signaling that he wants it off. “Go ahead.” You say, layering your hand on his as he slips your shirt off. Squeezing one of your boobs with the other hand.

Your naked back forcefully pushes up against the cold glass and it isn’t long before a cold shiver rushes up your spine, making your back arch fiercely. “Ah, c-cold!” You hiss. He looks around and spots a comfy couch in the living room, covered in fuzzy throw-over blankets that were used for cold movie nights. He throws you over his shoulder and then plops you onto the couch, his hands immediately moving around your waist and snaking up to your chest. He takes a second to admire the naked flesh in his hands, kneading and kissing it. He’s never felt something so soft and smooth in his life. Considering that his life was a very hard one, this felt like heaven on Earth.

You wrap your legs around his waist and pull it closer to your clothed entrance. His fingers loop around your panties and drag them down, swiftly. A string of shlick leading from your pussy to the wet spot on your panties. He brings the panties up to his nose and sniffs them, making your cheeks run hot with a blush. “Perv!” You beat at his chest.

He takes off his jumpsuit as he stares down at you. Broad shoulders, muscular chest, dark eyes, and abs sculpted by the gods intimidating and turning you on simultaneously. He continues undressing and pulls his boxers a little bit lower than his thighs. Your eyes almost pop out of your skull from how big his dick is. Yet it fits in his hand perfectly.

He gives it a few long strokes before lining himself up at your entrance, raising your hips to level with his tip. “W-wait. I don't think it’ll fit.�� You whimper, trying to close your legs, but are blocked by his waist. He stands still for a second, thinking about what to say. Instead, he shrugs his shoulders considering that he doesn’t talk much. He prods his tip at your entrance and slowly sheths himself mostly inside you, letting out a deep guttural groan. Your arms subconsciously try to claw at his back, but can’t wrap around it, clawing on his shoulders at best. “FUCK!” You scream, tears prickling in the corners of your eyes. “You’re too big.”

You lay on your back, trying not to move an inch, scared that he might rip you in half just from it being inside you. He puts a calloused hand on your cheek and wipes your tears, trying to soothe you the best he can without words. Your grip on his shoulders tighten when you feel him push in more. “Wait!” You weakly move a hand to his chest. “Stay still for a moment. It stings so bad.” You throw your head back onto the armrest of the couch as you bite your lip in pain, almost drawing blood.

After what seems like an eternity the pain is finally gone and now you can enjoy the dicking that you were supposed to get from Miles. You wonder what happened to him. Maybe he canceled without telling you. ‘Ugh, dickhead! Ghosting me on my birthday?’ You brush off that thought and tell him you’re fine now. He pulls out halfway and slowly thrusts back in, making you feel every inch of him. Your whole body quivers from how deep he was inside you, plunging farther than your fingers ever could. “Oh fuck!” You claw. He starts to pick up the pace, with each thrust fucking you further into dumbification.

You practically scream when he starts pounding your g-spot, making you breathless. “So good!!~” You hiccup, trying to focus on not being fucked dumb. So much that you didn't realize him switching positions.

Suddenly, your stomach is pressed against the back of your brown corduroy sofa as your knees dig into the pillows and cushions beneath you. He stands tall, towering over you from the back with one hand tangled in your hair. His free hand returns to one of your hips and he pulls them closer to his length, lining himself up again. He wastes not even a second going slow this time. He thrusts into you, immediately finding your G-spot and pounding it. The position does wonders for you as his balls repeatedly smack against your clit, making your back arch immensely. That’s it. That was your last straw before turning dumb. Your nails dig into the couch and your tongue hangs out your mouth, trickling drool. He lets out a deep groan when he feels your walls squeeze around his dick and suck him in, signaling that you were close to cumming.

A familiar heat starts to spread over your body and it isn’t long before your walls go from squeezing to trembling. “Fuck, Fuck FUCK!!” You thought you screamed, but to him, it just seemed like fucked out babbling. Your pussy gushes around him, triggering his orgasm. He fucks both of you through it, almost to the point of overstimulation. He finally pulls out, allowing all the cum and shlick to ooze out of you. Both of you watch as it drips onto the blanket below you, making you giggle. “Heh, oopsie.” You babble, still fucked out.

Your tiredness catches up with you and you fall limp on the couch, rocking in and out of consciousness. He picks you up and searches the house for a bathroom. He starts to run the water and steps out for a minute. The sound of running water and a loud thud from the living room snaps you out of your unconscious state. ‘W-what the fuck?’ You stand up on wobbly legs and head out of the bathroom, finding out that he put you in the downstairs one. You feel a cold gust of wind and look towards the front door. It’s open with the man that was just balls deep inside of you standing hunched over. You have a bit of trouble walking over to him, but eventually, you make it. You try to find an opening to see what he was looking at since he’s too tall to look over.

You fall on your butt in horror when you realize that it’s Miles, dead and the fully clothed mysterious man was dragging him away. A puddle of dried blood on your porch gives away that he was dead for a while.

“What. The. FUCK!” You had such a nice time with this man that you forgot he was a murderer. For heaven's sake, he killed your best friend Kate. “Who are you?” So many questions run through your head at the same time. ‘Why did he kill Miles? When did he have time to kill Miles? Why didn’t he kill you too? How does he know about you?’ He throws Miles over his shoulder and turns back to you. It looks like he’s going to raise a hand at you, instead, he reaches into his jumpsuit and pulls out a gold name tag with the name ‘Micheal’ on it. He throws it into your lap and disappears into the darkness of the night. “What…What the fuck?”

#horror #michael myers #Michael myers x reader #myers #myers x reader #slasher #slasher x reader #slasher fic #fem reader #soft gore #smut #lemon #slasher smut

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