#rapid-shave | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hurthermore · 11 days

Text

»»------► 𝙰𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝙽𝚂𝙵𝚆 𝙰𝚕𝚙𝚑𝚊𝚋𝚎𝚝 (18+)

A/N: 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝙽𝚂𝙵𝚆 𝚊𝚕𝚙𝚑𝚊𝚋𝚎𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚢 𝙰𝚄 𝚘𝚏 𝙰𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚖𝚢 𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜 '𝙼𝚒𝚜𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚞𝚌𝚝' 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚒𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚢 𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝙰𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 (𝙷𝚊𝚣𝚋𝚒𝚗 𝙷𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚕)

𝟷𝟾+ 𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚊𝚕, 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚟𝚘𝚕𝚟𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚕, 𝚜𝚘 𝙼𝙳𝙽𝙸

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Extremely caring, Alastor will kiss every part of your body whilst trying to stay inside you as long as possible whilst he holds you like you mean the world to him; usually gets hard again if so. If it was a rougher session, he will run a bath for you and help you relax whilst he massages soap into your skin whilst whispering about how well you took him.

B = Body part (their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

This man is a cannibal; so obviously he's a thigh and chest guy. Alastor loves the thickness of your thighs and wants to bite into them to see how they taste. He likes your chest purely because your heart remains there, and he loves to feel the rapid beating that thumps from your ribcage as he fucks you. I’m regards to his own body, he likes his face the most; he’s a cocky bastard and he knows he’s attractive, what can I say?

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Alastor will never cum before you; purely because he can only derive his own pleasure from the pleasure you feel. His cum is almost acidic in taste. After he enters hell, it becomes yellow instead of white simply cause I said so.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Wants to fuck you in the remains of everyone who dares to take you away from him; but it's not something Alastor would enact. Not unless you wanted him to.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Literal virgin. Never touched another person or himself romantically or sexually before you, so Alastor wouldn't be the best at first; but his charming and dominate demeanour makes up for it. Would become a god at sex after a while, and would memorise exactly what makes you tick.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Any position where he can look at every expression that envelops your face; Alastor gets off on seeing how much he's pleasing you, so although he will hit it from the back if you asked, he wouldn't enjoy it as much.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Alastor can't help but make a bad dad pun if the time arises for it; but typically he likes to keep it serious and passionate.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

No one is going to convince me Alastor shaves down there; and once he dies, it definitely changes into tufts of fluff instead of pubes.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He's a natural gentleman, so Alastor would be extremely romantic; groaning how well you're taking him, treating you like the most precious thing alive and dead as he defiles your body.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Alastor wouldn't touch himself with a twelve foot pole like that, and doesn't like you jacking him off either; it doesn't feel good for him, he'd much rather pound his fingers into you as seeing you on the brink of an orgasm makes his cock twitch to the point of wanting its own release.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Despite his want to please you, Alastor does have some rather fucked up things he'd like to do to you and for you to do to him. Definitely has a blood kink, choking kink, and pain kink, a sadomaso at heart.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

In the privacy of a room, Alastor wants to keep your body and moans all to himself, but if you need reminding that you belong to him whilst you're in public, expect to have his hands touching you rather inappropriately.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Honestly? If you're blinded by rage, covered in blood, or start acting a bit crazy, he gets hard immediately. Other than that, he can't really get hard unless you make it clear you want him like that; you'd have to initiate every time or drop heavy hints for him to initiate, but Alastor is more than happy to make love to you whenever you ask - even if he's busy.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Would not partake in a three-way or more. You're all Alastor needs, all he wants, isn't he good enough for you? You'll break his heart asking this. Expect to be locked in his cellar if you have the stupidity to ask.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Alastor will only enjoy you giving him head if you get off on it, if not, he can't enjoy it. In contrast, he loves going down on you; loves tasting the natural essences of your body. He's surprisingly good at eating you out even from the first time he does it. With his acquired taste for human flesh, he will always suggest you sit on his face whenever it's that time of the month.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

In a normal initiation of sex, Alastor is extremely passionate and slow, he makes love to you whilst going so deep you can see stars, if you ask him to go harder or faster though, he will. In the case of high emotions, maybe the two of you had a lovers spat, or he's just killed someone from pure jealousy, expect to be fucked into oblivion; his pace will be relentless and you're always unable to walk straight the following day.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Prefers to savour you, take his time with you, and the only way you're going to get a quickie out of Alastor is if you start grinding against him before he, you, or both of you have to go somewhere. He also likes the thought of having his cum still inside you whilst you both go about your daily lives, and quickies defiantly help him live the reality of that fantasy.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Yes and no? Alastor, being the murderer he is, knows the limits of the human body when it comes to anything that has the potential to kill, so he will never pass that limit with you; like choking you, for example. Because he knows these limits, its not necessarily a risk for him. In terms of potential voyeurism, he does like the thought of getting caught fucking his cock into you so whoever walked in on the two of you knows you belong to him - especially so if it happens to your first husband who walks in.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

At first, Alastor cannot last that long, so at the start of your intimacy, he spends a lot of his time with his face between your thighs, trying to bring as many orgasms as he can from you. After a while, his stamina will build, being able to last for a few hours and a few rounds. Will even fuck you if it hurts him, he just wants to please you that much; luckily for him, he's a masochist, and besides, you're too nice to let him be in pain... aren't you?

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Despite sex toys being relevant to the time of both of your lives, Alastor never saw the point in sex toys, doesn't understand the need for them. He can only get off to you, and he is very capable of bringing you to orgasm, whether it be through his mouth, fingers, or cock. Will be a bit offended if you ask him to use one, maybe if you beg, he might be open to using some on you though.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Will tease you in the sense of asking you what you want from him. He'll ask you where you want him to touch you, how bad you want him, will even make you beg for him if you've been bad. Also, Alastor loves to tell you how good and perfect you are whilst his cock is thrusting in and out of you.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Let's out a lot of low groans and grunts like a wild animal if he's fucking you hard, if he's slow and sensual, Alastor will breathe heavily to the point it's all you can hear, even if you yourself are moaning.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Has a husband/wife kink. Basically, he wants to be your husband; wants you to be his wife, and wants you to call him your husband whilst he fucks you. He craves for you to forget about your first marriage to the point where you believe Alastor is the only husband you've ever had. Also kinda likes to smell your sex...?

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Alastors cock is very girthy, heavy and veiny, with a curve that hits you just right; he's got a very pretty cock, and in my mind, he's your desired size, but if I had to give him an approx length, i'd say he's sporting a good seven inches whilst he's alive. When he's dead however, and sporting his demon form, not only has he grown a full foot taller, but his cock has an ombre of red and has somehow gotten fatter, now with a couple more inches to it.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Honestly, Alastor can live his entire existence without having sex; it's not something he's too bothered about, as long as you’re by his side he’s content, but his desire to please you and become one with you is something that has him drooling, so he's willing to do it whenever you wish.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

After some well done aftercare, Alastor will only fall asleep once you have drifted off, he doesn't like thinking of you being awake without him. When he dies, he doesn't sleep, so once you drift off, he will just watch you sleep instead.

I didn’t even need to see the outcome of the poll; y’all just bashed tf outta that yes button soakskos so here he is; are there any hints here for the story? Idk probably not ;)

#alastor x reader #alastor x you #alastor #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel x reader #reader insert #hazbin hotel #x reader #alastor x reader smut #alastor smut #wrote this whilst getting ready for uni #smut #alastor x y/n

530 notes · View notes

unholyhelbig · 5 months

Note

request: single mom reader decides to loan shark from natasha’s mob. when reader can’t pay back the loan, natasha’s men capture and beat her. natasha sees reader among the criminals and drug dealers who also haven’t payed back their loans, and excuses her, forgiving her debt.

Title: The Oversight

Ship: Female!Reader x Natasha Romanoff

Wordcount: 2799

Warnings: Drug use, kidnapping, guns, choking, threats, blood, horrible grammar.

[a/n: Yeah, I kind of feel like this needs a part two. Let me know what you guys think and if you're interested]

Main Masterlist | Read my stuff on AO3 | Leave Requests

Each breath you drew in spurred a sharp stitch in your side. They came in rapid succession, even as you struggled to recall the fuzzy details that usually calmed you down. Your first street name. What you called your first pet. The name of your second-grade teacher. They all swirled foggily, unable to recall.

Your mouth tasted metallic cotton and your heartbeat was pulsing through your entire body. Counting the thrums hadn’t helped either, you gave up as you rolled your neck in a snow circle. The dried blood that hardened against the side of your face, your cheek, and down the expanse of your collarbone crackled at the soft movement.

The room that housed you was pitch black. It was hard to tell when you opened your eyes, tears welling up and dripping down your face onto your uniform. Your arms were bound behind your back, shoulders screaming in protest and fingers going numb from the cold. Your small noises echoed. Wherever you were was impossibly vast.

The next breath that escaped you was deeper than the rest. Not necessarily calm, but enough for you to take stock of the situation; there were flashes of you leaving the diner where you worked nothing short of twelves. It had just rained, and the air was humid. You dropped your keys and bent down to pick them up.

Before you could insert them into the lock, something hard had come down on your temple. There was a rush of heat sloshing down your face and a moment later, as you looked up at the sky, the steel tip of a boot took the rest of your consciousness.

That didn’t bother you. You were fine, a little banged up, but fine. Your daughter was left with the sitter. It could have been hours, maybe even a day. Your stomach clenched in hunger, and you drifted in and out of lucidity. They’d left you un-gagged but you didn’t have it in you to scream. You had a sinking feeling that no one would hear you anyway.

You’d flinched when the first 500-volt lamp let out a sharp hiss before flipping on. You shrunk into yourself, blinking away the sudden burst of white light that filled the room. It was directed towards you, and the rest of the space was still a frustratingly thick darkness. You couldn’t see who had turned them on, but they could see you.

The boots that walked across the floor were loud. They echoed like your earlier sobs. A metal chair was being dragged, and the sound was piercing. It did nothing to aide your aching head. You were thankful to see something other than pitch black, however big the danger.

You recognized the man who was in front of you. His outline flickered solidly. He looked rougher than you did; dirty-blonde hair, and stubble. There was a bandage across the center of his nose, on his fingertips, as if he’d fisted the razor while shaving. His purple T-shirt was covered by a dusty-brown leather jacket. His stare was hard, emotionless.

“You’re awfully quiet for a hostage.” He said, straddling the chair he had dragged over. His chest rested against the metal backing. “You can scream if you want. Wear yourself down. It’ll make this a lot easier.”

“What is this?” You asked instead of taking him up on his offer.

He was familiar to you. Clint. He came into the diner every Wednesday and Friday night like clockwork. He’d order a roast beef on rye with Swiss cheese and extra dressing on the side. He’d suck down two beers with his meal and tipped generously.

Sometimes he was with the man they called ‘The Winter Soldier’. You’d always found the name laughable, but the rumors about him were enough for you to hold your tongue. He never ate but would sometimes order a diet coke and sip it while Clint spoke through large bites of food.

Law enforcement wouldn’t’ touch Bucky Barnes, and your boss would typically comp whatever he ordered. A few months ago, you had shared your first words with him behind the diner. The air stunk of rotted food and hardly counted as fresh air. However, it was a few degrees cooler than the kitchen.

He had offered you a cigarette, one already perched between his lips, a zippo lighter at the ready in his other hand. You declined with the shake of your head, and a quiet ‘no thank you’. There was an uncomfortable silence, but it was better than the damp warmth of the kitchen. A sweet, burning scent filled your nose when he lit his cigarette and let the smoke curl around the two of you like a slack rope.

“You work hard in there.” Bucky said, taking a long inhale. He held it within his lungs, voice pinched. “Harder than anyone else I’ve seen in a while.”

You weren’t about to tell him about your daughter, not with his reputation, or the small smattering of pink scars across his chiseled features. So, you nodded instead. The number of tips you got in the broken down, greasy diner was the difference between two meals and one. So, you smiled sweetly and laid on the southern accent even though you’d only spent a short stint in Georgia when you were eighteen. It was easy to perfect.

“I bet you could name my order right now.”

“You don’t order.”

“I don’t trust the food.” He shrugged listlessly, a lazy smile against his lips. You couldn’t help but smile back.

“That’s a good call.”

He laughed at your honesty, and it was a nice sound. He disarmed you and that was worrying. Bucky let the cigarette sizzle out in a puddle at his feet. He used the tip of his steel-toed boot to grind the paper into damp ash.

“You wouldn’t’ have to work so hard if you had some extra cash, would you?”

The question caught you off guard and you couldn’t stifle the vicious glare that you gave him. Your break was almost over, and you could have, should have, walked back into the restaurant to finish the rest of your shift. Bucky lifted his hands up as a peace offering.

“Look, lady, I didn’t mean to offend you or anything. All I’m saying is, you’re not blind to what happens in there, the type of people that frequent this place. You’ve always turned a blind eye and that’s something my boss appreciates. Something she trusts.”

“And who exactly is your boss?”

He tsked “I can’t tell you that, sweetheart. But she wants to make you an offer, she wants to offer you a loan. You’re what? Three months behind on rent? She’ll front that for you and the following two.”

You took a deep breath of stale air. It was a tempting offer, even if it came in the form of a seedy enforcer in an even seedier alleyway. You were three days from getting evicted. Three days from ending up on the streets in a neighborhood that didn’t’ have a single safe one.

“What’s the catch?” You asked.

“Catch? There’s no catch. This is a friendly loan. All you’ve gotta do is pay it back when you’re on your feet again.”

It was an oversight, not asking for a concrete timeline. You hadn’t paid Bucky’s boss back yet, and over the next few months, there were stifled threats, and both Bucky and Clint watched you carefully at the job that you still worked like nothing had changed. The feeling of being indebted lingered, but this time, it was to an unknown entity instead of a landlord that was ultimately harmless.

Everything needed to be paid back in full. These were thousands you didn’t have. And now, two weeks after the initial threat, you were strapped to a metal chair with blood dripping down the sound of your face, in despite need of a drink of water.

Clint was harmless compared to The Winter Soldier, but his muscles still flexed under his shirt as he pulled his jacket off and let it fall to the dusty floor illuminated in blue light. “I would prefer not to get that dirty. It’s genuine leather, you know?”

You glowered at him as he stood and took a few more steps towards you. He looked relatively harmless each time you’d seen him in the diner. Sometimes he had a girl with him, a slight thing that was just as littered in scars as he was. She would order a plate of bacon that was cooked to a crisp and split it with a golden retriever that laid at their feet.

When his wrapped knuckles made contact with your cheek, your head clocked in the opposite direction. There was a sharp pain in your jaw, a ringing in your ear. He had slammed into the same side of your face as earlier, and you lost vision for a second.

Blood filled your mouth, and you spit the mix of saliva, bile, and blood onto the floor. There was a drain in the center and that worried you more than anything else. Your breathing came fast and hard and you glared at him, teeth stained pink.

“Is that all?” You asked him.

It was stupid, you knew it was stupid. But it bothered you more than anything that you had gotten yourself wrapped up in this. Your father was no stranger to the mob, and you should have seen it from a mile away. The fear he lived with. Until the day he died, he would look over his shoulder and you refused to do the same.

Clint grabbed your face, squeezing hard enough to bring tears to your eyes. “You’re a tough chick, huh? I think we both know why you’re here. All you have to do is get the money and all of this vanishes.”

“I don’t have the money.” Your words were garbled between his fingers. “You’re sure as fuck not going to get it if you kill me.”

“Kill you?” Clint unhanded you and let out a laugh. “Kill you, she says. No, we’re not going to kill you, she would never get her money that way… your daughter on the other hand.”

You pulled against the ropes, and they dug painfully into you. The chair was liable to break, but it had been bolted to the floor. It was much stronger than the one he’d dragged over. The mix of anger and fear that had rushed over you pulled away any thought of lingering aches and pains. Be damned to the head trauma.

Your teeth were gritted, voice a low hiss “Leave her the fuck out of this.”

“Did I strike a nerve?”

“I swear to you, I will get your money, I just need time. I’m not… You can keep me under surveillance as collateral, take my car, my apartment- just leave her out of this.”

Clint gripped your throat with his calloused hand, your ability to breathe became more difficult, half-moon nails digging into your flesh. It stung fiercely, and you let out a gurgle in response. “Or she could be our collateral. I think she’d make a great enforcer, with the proper education, that is.”

Is that what happened to the girl that ate lunch with Clint at the diner? She didn’t looked like she was there against her will, but there was an immense sadness to her eyes. Clint hadn’t released you yet and your vison was growing fuzzy at the edges.

“Let her go,”

Your chest was burning at this point and when he pulled his hand back you tried desperately to regain your sense of lucidity. You coughed, nearly vomiting as he took a long stride backwards, seemingly put into his place with a simple sentence.

Over the ringing of your ears, you heard the sharp click of heels. They were confident, and your chin dropped to your chest as you panted in succession, spit dripping in strings from your lips. You didn’t have the strength to look up, your head was pounding.

“I think that’s enough,” Her voice was smooth, just the smallest bit of an accent in her words. You couldn’t place it, but you couldn’t tell which way was up at this point. “You’re dismissed.”

“Oh, come on Natasha, I was just having a little fun.”

“Dismissed, Clint.”

There was a labored sigh and the sound of his footsteps retreating. It brought little relief to you, however. You felt as if you had traded one evil for another. Eventually, you lifted your head to stare at the ceiling. The stranger hadn’t said anything, and the pitch dark above was more desirable to the unknown.

You heard her sit down and felt her eyes watching you. The swimming in your head started to dissipate so you clocked her with a stare. The woman in front of you was angelic, in such a way that you figured Clint’s choking stunt had actually done you in.

Her stare was an unripe green rimmed in gold, her cheekbones carved from marble. There was a beautiful softness to her expression, and her deep red hair flowed over her shoulders in a waterfall of color. She was studying you, not phased by the cold of the room.

The woman wore a black t-shirt, deep slashes of ink peaking from the dip of the V-neck. You didn’t’ let your eyes linger long. It was a marking that you’d seen on Clints bicep and on Buckey’s hand. You hadn’t gotten a chance to clock it on the girl that was kept in their company.

“Is this the part where you come in with your good cop schtick?” You mumbled.

“Darling, Clint is the good cop.”

“Nice, I like it.” You rolled your shoulders back, fighting the stiffness “Bad cop and worse cop is much more effective.”

“You’ve got quite the mouth on you for someone in your position. Thousands of dollars in debt and seemingly no way to pay back my money. It’s not a good spot to be in, Y/n.”

Natasha stood from the chair, her muscles straining at the action. In a fluid motion, she pulled a black standard issue handgun from the space between her skin and her jeans. She pumped the shaft, the sound echoed more than your quickened breathing.

She used the tip to push your chin up, forcing you to look into her unblinking eyes. You were a dead man, you knew that from her cold stare. You couldn’t look away, even if the option was given.

“Baby, I’ve been in this business for a long time.” Her breath was hot on your collarbone, a mix of mint and tobacco. “I know exactly the type that you are. I cater to your kind. More often than not, my clientele need a little bit of encouragement.”

The tip of her gun traced your jaw, her finger loosely on the trigger. It was cold against your collarbone, down the center of your breasts. She held it there, jaw set in stone.

“We’ll keep you here for a few days. Once you dry out a little, I’m sure you’ll suddenly come into the cash.”

“Dry out? You think I’m on drugs?”

The tip pushed hard enough into your sternum to make you let out a grunt of pain. “You hide it quite well, pet. I’m sure it won’t be as simple when you start to feel those withdraw symptoms. Money flows simple in this town when those cravings kick in.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at her, despite the weapon that she was packing. A frown creased between her eyebrows, but she held it in place. “The hardest thing I’ve ever hit is a blunt in a high school rotation. That was your brilliant plan? Dry me out and then what? Search my backyard for jars filled with money. I don’t have it. I make 2.50 an hour at a diner.”

Natasha scrutinized you, eyes hard. She righted herself and pulled the gun away from your center before flipping on the safety and shoving it back into her jeans. She started to pace the length of the light.

“Bucky, he offered me a loan and I took it so I could pay the rent on an apartment for me and my daughter.” You said, voice quiet “I work thirteen hour shifts six days a week, and it’s still not enough. I’m not… I don’t know who you cater to, but I have a feeling it’s not someone like me.”

“No.” she crossed her arms over her chest, “It seems as if you’re an oversight.”

“Great,” you flexed your numbing fingers, “An oversight you’ll let go?”

Natasha shook her head, clenching and unclenching her jaw. “No, I’m afraid not.”

#Natasha Romanoff #Natasha Romanoff x y/n #Natasha Romanoff x you #Natasha Romanoff x reader #Mafia Boss Natasha Romanoff #Marvel #Marvel Fanfiction #Clint Barton #Kate Bishop #Bucky Barnes #Mafia au #request

743 notes · View notes

maopll · 3 months

Note

Could I request Kaeya, Diluc, Childe and Zhongli's (separate) s/o laying them down on her lap and playing with the boys' hair when their exhausted?

Put your head on my heart

#genshin impact !

⌗:, a/n: its boutta feel like heaven once I scratch their heads I'm being dead serious...hopefully there's no dandruff...

⌗:, pairings: khaenri'ahn, weird grown up, snezhnaya's greatest toymaker, fossil w/ gn!reader (separately)

⌗:, note: I wanted to post smth before I went to school so pls take it with a grain of salt (low effort work)

— ୨୧ KAEYA

"Ahh...that's feels great" Kaeya mumbled drowsily against your lap.

"You're having real fun by having me at your beck and call huh?" You playfully said as you pressed one spot on his forehead a little harder.

"Ow ow ow gently I'm very feeble" He smirked while looking you with half his eyes closed. It looks like the exhaustion really creeped up to him. He's not one who easily shows through his demeanor how much overworked or even exhausted he is.

To others he may seem like how he usually does but the slight change in his personality spoke words to you. The past week he became sluggish and even fell asleep at the most odd places.

Thus you took it upon your hands to lay him down on your lap and forcibly make him achieve that deserved slumber that he really needed.

"It's not right to overwork yourself so much Kaeya..." your voice sounded like one of worry. Kaeya knew how you felt and...he can't really disagree with you. "I'll be careful next time lovely"

"Oh, you better! you're trying to shave years of my life here with how much you're overworking yourself!" You smack his head. He laughed, seeing you worry so much, and said "aww I'm sorry," all while having a shit eating grin on his face as he smothered your face with his kisses to make you stop worrying. "You have my oath as a knight, my dove" he says so while sealing the words with a kiss on the back of your hand in quite the knightly fashion.

— ୨୧ DILUC

It's way past midnight. The workers and the Maids of the Manor are enjoying the honey heavy dew of slumber while you paced back and forth in your own room's veranda as you stared far into the vineyards to even catch a glimpse of your lover. It's not unusual for Diluc to return late, but it's even more unusual when he hasn't come back after the clock struck 2 a.m.

"Where is he?" Your worries grew like a rapid fire. You tried to calm your nerves by telling yourself "it's alright..." when your ears perked up with the creak of the front door. After some time, you saw Diluc emerge from the shadows with his red hair looking particularly vibrant under the moonlight.

"Gosh, you had me worried there dear..." you strode towards him. "Yes...it looks like I kept you awake and worried for a long time? apologies..." as he sounded those words, his voice grew tired and low as his eyes nearly closed from how drowsy he was. You frowned at this sight of him. So you held his hand gently and guided him towards your bed to let him get that well deserved rest since he looked as if he would flop flat on the ground if you did not let him fall on the bed sooner.

You guided his head towards your lap and ruffled his red locks gently. "I'll help you sleep quicker, Diluc. So just close your eyes now" with a peck to his forehead, you put your hands softly over his eyes. "Thank you...love"

— ୨୧ CHILDE

"Childe...I don't think this is that right place to do this..."

And yes it wasn't. He decided to go out fishing in Dragonspine with you because he said, "I miss the way me and my family used to fish in Snezhnaya" all puppy eyed and stuff. You're always the one who says yes to anything he says but maybe...maybe this time you should've said no...

"But babe I'm tired! won't you let me rest my head on your lap?" so he said when he is literally a harbinger. Him running out of stamina and being exhausted? impossible that's something that will happen in an alternate universe. He just needed a sorry excuse to feel the warmth your thigh emitted because he just couldn't get enough of those.

"Childe I'm not saying that you can't lay on my lap but we are out in the middle of nowhere in adeserted frosty mountain!" You screamed to him while he just jumped up with excitement, "Oh look! I caught a Snowstrider! Great catch!"

"Oh my archons...are we done yet?" you said impatiently because the cold was getting to you. "Aww but I was thinking about catching a few more...alright let's go home now"

You noticed the tone drop in his voice. Looks like he really missed those eventful days of his. So with a sigh and a forgiving smile on your face you agreed to his whims, "Nevermind it's alright, you can fish as much as you want we can go after some time"

Oh what a sight it was when his eyes literally sparkled with joy and the way his ears perked up hearing your words of affirmation. "Thanks babe! Watch me catch the biggest one for you!"

Oh it's going to be a long day...

— ୨୧ ZHONGLI

The vibrant kites were visible from the small window of your house. Lantern Rite comes every year with a new surprise yet even before the preparations are completed before the event, the hustle and bustle of the people as they scurried to prepare meticulously for the biggest event was a joy that could never eb expressed in words.

So here you were. Atop a hill overseeing the entirety of Liyue Harbour with your lover resting on you lap as you played with his hair as soft as the silk flowers and as fragrant as qingxins.

"Do you like the view Zhongli?" you quietly asked, keeping the comforting silence that prevailed amidst the two of you. "As always. Mortals and their customs have never ceased to amaze me." He hummed lowly as you scratched that one spot of his head. He had those areas on his head which felt better than the other places because...he's a dragon after all.

He looked up at you through his lashes and spoke, "Once the Liyue Harbour is decorated, let us visit Mount Aocang to give those old friends a little greeting." You smiled at how much he cared for those who lived along with him. "Sure let's do that"

475 notes · View notes

virescent-v · 5 months

Text

except me pt 2

A/N: Another smutty Emily fic! Sorry this one took me like...two months. I have no excuse lmao.

Summary: This is the second part to Except Me which can be read here! Reader goes to Emily's after work and fun ensues ;)

Word Count: 5.4k

Warnings below the cut!

Warnings: thigh grinding, restraints, anal plugs, mommy kink, praise kink, some slight degradation, strap-ons, squirting (if you squint)

x-x-x

The work day seemed to drag on after your encounter with Emily in her office. You tried to focus on your paperwork, tried to keep your eyes from straying towards her office, but you were struggling. You left work around five, wanting to go home and freshen up before heading towards Emily’s apartment.

As you finished your shower, where you took extra time to exfoliate, shave, and moisturize, you got a text from your boss that accelerated your heartbeat.

Emily: Arrive by seven, no later. When you get here, come in and follow the directions on the counter.

You could already feel the excitement bubbling up at the prospect of what the night was going to bring, so you just liked the text and finished getting ready. You did your makeup a little heavier, smokier around the eyes, a dark red lipstick adorning your lips. You opted for a simple black lace set of undergarments, figuring it wouldn’t be on too long to make a real difference, and a simple white cotton shirt and jeans.

You left your place with enough time to get to Emily’s slightly before seven, not wanting to start the night off on the wrong foot. When you opened her door, you could hear a slight thumping bass echoing from further in the apartment. Your eyes scanned the main entryway, not seeing Emily. Walking to the counter in the kitchen, you saw a note folded in half with your name on it in Emily’s loopy scrawl and a gift bag beside it. Opening the note, you felt your already fast heart rate speed up even more.

“Be a good girl for me, angel, and take off everything you’re wearing and put on what I’ve bought for you. Meet me upstairs when you’re ready. Second door on the left.”

Going through the gift bag, you gasped at the high quality material of the lingerie, the color seemingly black in the low light of the apartment. Bringing the garment fully out of the bag, you saw that it was actually a very dark green, a color that was one of your favorites and went well with your skin tone. The lingerie was more intricate than you originally speculated. The entire set matched completely, from the panties to the bra to the garter. There were multiple criss-crossing lines and a hint of a floral pattern on the main pieces that covered your privates. It was complex, but still sophisticated without being too much. A matching satin robe was also in the bag.

You got dressed quickly, placing your clothes on the counter folded up. You wouldn’t be needing them for a while.

You took a deep breath, centering yourself before beginning the climb up the stairs to where Emily was waiting for you. As you got closer to the room, you could smell a light, fragrant smell and see the flickering of the candle light from the hallway.

With one more deep breath, you walked into the room.

Your breath immediately caught in your lungs, stuttering out in a rapid staccato beat.

Emily was lounging in an oversize, plush chair in the corner of her room reading a book. Her hair was down, a slight wave to it from being exposed to the air all day. She, too, had on a satin robe, hiding whatever was underneath. You wondered if her apparel matched yours or differed. To be honest, you weren’t sure you really even cared that much. You’d enjoy taking it off, though.

But what had you absolutely hypnotized were the glasses that adorned her face, simple in shape, but drawing attention to her beautiful eyes. The frames sat a little lower on the bridge of her nose, having fallen slightly while her head was tilted down reading.

“You’re staring, pretty girl,” Emily’s voice brought you out of your ogling.

“You expect me not to? When you look like that?”

Emily smirked, her eyes flicking over the pages, trying to equalize her attention between you and her book.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m wearing a robe. Nothing much to gawk at.”

You cleared your throat, your toes scrunching up in the carpet beneath your feet. Breathily, you said, “it’s the glasses.”

At that, Emily slowly closed her book, her eyes glancing up at you from under the lenses. Her pupils were dark, or so you thought, with the lighting in the room being what it was. She looked….hungry. Like she was assessing you.

“Is that so?” She placed the book on the table beside the chair. She crossed her legs, putting each of her arms on the arms of the chair. She looked every bit of a woman in charge, a queen on a plush throne.

You swallowed heavily. The temperature of the room felt like it increased five degrees with the way that Emily was looking at you. You nodded, already not trusting your voice to be steady.

Emily tilted her head to the side, pulling her glasses off, bringing the temple piece that wrapped around her ear to between her teeth, a mischievous smile pulling at her lips. “Do me a favor and take that robe off. Slowly.”

A deep inhale through your nose, you reached towards the tie of the robe, dragging it carefully between each finger, feeling the satin heat with each pass. Deliberately, you tugged the tie loose, letting the robe fall gently open. You watched as Emily’s eyes tracked every movement as the robe opened, but still kept most of the lingerie covered. With the tie undone, you drew your hands up the open sides of the robe, thoughtfully brushing your pinkies against your already hardened nipples. You let your head fall back slightly as you pulled the robe down your shoulders lazily, taking your time in exposing each inch of you. As more and more skin came into view, you watched as Emily’s grip tightened on the arm rests of the chair, as if she wanted to reach out and rip the robe from your body.

You paused for a second, waiting for Emily’s eyes to catch yours before dropping the robe completely. Emily managed to keep eye contact with you for a few seconds after the robe hit the floor, but curiosity got the better of her, her eyes languidly caressing each miniscule part of you. You watched as her eyes traveled each intricate strap of your lingerie, taking in how well it complemented your figure. You watched as she swallowed, her tongue tracing her lower lip before her eyes met yours again.

“You look absolutely delicious, baby.”

Emily’s use of pet names were a sure fire way to get you to melt into the perfect headspace for the evening ahead. It made you feel special, looked after, and most importantly, hers. You’ve always enjoyed just the right amount of possessiveness with your partners; a way to finally feel like you belong to someone who will take care of you.

“Thank you,” you all but whispered.

Emily took another second to let her eyes travel over your body before beckoning you to her. “Come here,” she said, pointing to the floor in front of her. She placed her glasses on the table beside the chair.

You walked slowly across the carpet, keeping eye contact with her the whole time. As you neared, Emily uncrossed her legs and gestured to the spot between them. Stopping between her legs, her hands lightly gripped your hips, keeping you in place.

Emily took a quick breath, her thumbs rubbing circles on the sides of the lingerie, feeling the straps and lace. She looked up at you, which made you feel powerful, like you were controlling the shots. Even though you knew that she was absolutely in control. “Are you sure about this? We don’t have to go further if you don’t want to. We can stop at any time.”

You smiled briefly, your hand coming up and tilting her chin upwards to get a better look at her. To make sure she heard you when you spoke. “I’m sure. I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t. I want you to do whatever you want to me, Em.” Your thumb caressed her bottom lip, smiling a little when her tongue flicked over it. “But you better believe when you’re done I get my turn.”

Emily let out an almost silent moan, but you caught it. She took a deep breath. “Anything I should know before starting? Anything off the table?”

You decided she’d been talking enough. The checking in was cute, sweet even, but you were pretty sure your panties were already ruined. You leaned down and kissed her softly. “I’m pretty sure we’re on the same page. I’ll stop you if I’m uncomfortable. Stoplight to check in, red and vanilla are my hard stops. Now touch me before I do it myself.”

At that, Emily let out an almost animalistic growl. She roughly grabbed your waist, sliding back in the chair and pulling you onto her thigh. What you couldn’t see underneath her robe previously was a silicone grinder, a small oval pad with various bumps and ridges on it that was strapped to her thigh. Emily immediately forced your hips down and back and forth, which made you very aware of how these bumps felt against your clit.

“Ride me, babygirl.”

Your hands shot out to Emily’s shoulders as your hips started moving back and forth. You could feel the silicone ridges through your panties, which were already soaked. The feel of the fabric and the texture of the bumpy silicone was already driving you a little crazy. It was causing just enough pressure to rile you up, but you weren’t sure you’d be able to cum just from this.

Emily sat back, her hands moving towards your knees, rubbing the skin there. “Look at you. You’ve been here less than ten minutes and you’re already desperate to cum.” She caught your wild, wide eyes. “Such a whore for me and I’ve barely touched you.”

The moan you let out was desperate, echoing how you were already feeling. “Please, Em,” you said, gripping her hair in your hand, tilting her head back so you could meet her lips in a frenzied kiss. Your tongue brushed over hers, tasting the wine she’d had when she got home from work and something that was just Emily.

She pulled back, a little breathlessly, stopping the frantic movements of your hips. “Off, baby. Take off the lingerie.”

You were panting, not wanting to stop your movements. But the idea of the silicone rubbing directly against your wet, swollen clit was more than enough to get you to get up. You basically tore the lingerie off, not caring where it ended up on the floor. Before she could even say anything else, you were taking Emily’s robe off, too, wanting to see what she had on underneath it.

As you slid the robe from her shoulders, your breath caught again. Emily was wearing a matching deep red lace set of bra and panties. You caught her eyes again as your pussy remade contact with the silicone strapped to her strong thigh. “You’re beautiful, you know,” you said, your hands resting lightly on the exposed skin of her chest right above her breasts.

She smiled lightly, her hands making their way back to your now unclothed body. “You are too, pretty girl. And you’re going to be even more beautiful when you cum for me over and over and over again.” Her hands circled your waist, each hand grabbing at your ass. “Now move.”

Your hips immediately began a brutal pace, the feeling of the ridges and lumps of the silicone feeling much more intense after taking off your panties. Each movement forward and backward dragged your clit against them, creating the most delicious friction that was rubbing against you in just the right ways. With each movement, you were pushed that much closer to tumbling over the edge, the familiar tightening in your lower belly telling you that you were close.

“Look at you, how you’re dripping for me. You’re already so close.” Emily’s hands traveled up your body, her thumbs brushing across your hardened nipples. As her fingers began pulling on them, she growled out, “now be a good little slut and cum for me, baby.”

The fact that Emily already knew how to push you closer to cumming, the way she knew how to touch you, the way her voice had deepened, becoming almost gravelly, you couldn’t help but follow her directions. Your head tilted back, your spine arching towards her, as you moaned loudly, “fuck, mommy!”

You continued to ride Emily’s thigh through your first orgasm, feeling your juices spread over the silicone toy. As you came down from the high, you realized what you said and embarrassingly brought your head back up and looked at Emily.

Emily’s eyes had dilated to the point where there was no color left in them, her chest heaving with quick breaths. “What did you just call me?”

Your eyes shifted to the side, not wanting to meet hers. You cleared your throat a little, bringing your bottom lip between your teeth. “Mommy.”

Emily brought her body flush against yours, the lace of her bra brushing against your breasts. Her hand captured your chin, forcing you to look at her. “That’s right, little girl.” Her thumb brushed against your lips, pulling it from between your teeth. “Now you better scream that every single time you cum for me tonight, understood?”

You took Emily’s thumb into your mouth, swirling your tongue around it briefly before sucking on it. “Yes, mommy.”

Emily trailed her now slick thumb down the column of your throat, watching as you swallowed with the movement. You watched as it trailed between your breasts, down your belly, before moving towards your hip. Emily took one more glance at you before pulling you harder against her, her hands under your thighs as she lifted you up, your legs immediately coming around her waist.

She carried you a small distance to the bed, laying you down against it before hovering over you. “Arms up and legs spread, love.”

You put your arms up and Emily immediately strapped them down to the ties she already had on the bed. She made sure they were tight enough that you couldn’t move much, but not tight enough to hurt you. When she was done with your hands, she grabbed each of your knees and placed them in similar ties. But, she didn’t strap them to the bottom of the bed. Instead, she bent your knees, and tied them to the top of the bed as well. In this position, your knees were almost flush with your chest and your thighs were spread open to an almost uncomfortable stretch. It left you completely and utterly exposed, the cool air of the room spreading goosebumps across your skin.

“You look so pretty all tied down and spread open for me, baby,” Emily said, kneeling between your spread legs, trailing her hands over your body.

You could feel yourself flushing under her intense gaze, your breath panting.

As Emily’s hands made their way down your body, your hips tried to buck up into them, trying to get them to move further down. “Please, Em, touch me,” you whined.

Emily lowly chuckled, “I am touching you, sweetheart.” Her hands skimmed across your thighs, dangerously close to your aching center. “But if you want something specific, you just have to ask.”

Your earlier orgasm did nothing to dwindle the heat spreading through your core; you needed desperately to cum again. “Your tongue, your fingers, it doesn’t matter, Emily. Just fuck me,” you breathed out.

You watched as Emily inhaled deeply, her eyes lazily trailing over your exposed cunt, almost as if deciding how she wanted to take you next. You almost pleaded that she could fuck you over and over if she was undecided, but before you could, Emily’s tongue made contact with your sodden folds and you lost the breath in your lungs.

You struggled in your ties with each tortuously slow pass of Emily’s tongue over your lower lips. Each pass got closer and closer to both your entrance and your clit, but never made contact. Emily alternated between fast and slow motions, flattening her tongue before rolling it into a point. The constant changing of pace was driving you crazy, it only riled you up without getting you there.

You could feel your wetness seeping out of you, slowly dripping down your backside and pooling on the sheets beneath. You don’t think you’ve ever been this wet before and you were sure it was only going to get worse as Emily continued to play with you.

After what seemed like a tortuous few minutes, Emily’s tongue finally made contact with your swollen nub, zeroing in on the patterns that drove you craziest. Little flicks of her tongue had you gasping, fast circles had you trying to buck your hips even in your confined pose.

Each pass of her tongue pushed you closer and closer to the edge, the coil expanding in your belly ready to burst. You whispered a quiet ‘please, please please’ under your breath, but it caught Emily’s attention, her eyes flicking up to you.

“Cum all over my mouth, pretty girl, so I can finally fuck you with my cock,” she said, her tongue immediately going back to your clit. Emily brought two fingers up under her chin, thrusting inside of you without any warning.

That’s all it took for you to come undone, your entire body tensing as wave after wave rushed through you. But you didn’t have an opportunity to come down from your high, as Emily continued to thrust her fingers inside of you.

“One more for me, baby. Wanna make sure your pretty pussy is nice and ready for me.”

You almost sobbed in oversensitivity, but Emily switched to pulsating her fingers inside of you, her tongue lightly tracing your outer lips. It was enough delicious friction to keep you from coming down from your last orgasm, but enough to not make it painfully sensitive to where you wanted to stop.

For the first time sleeping together, Emily was already quickly becoming a master of your body. It only took a few more seconds of Emily’s tongue wrapped around your clit, and a hand tugging at your turgid nipples for you to cum again.

Emily lazily lapped at you, drinking down everything you had to give. As you caught your breath, you started giggling under your breath.

Emily’s hands traveled up your body, slowly untying you, massaging your limbs to restore blood flow. “What’s so funny, hm?” She asked, mirth in her eyes.

“If I had known talking about sex would’ve gotten me in this position, I would’ve done it on my first day with the BAU,” you said smiling, trying to catch your breath.

Emily smirked back at you, placing small kisses all over your body as you calmed down. “If I had known all I had to do to have you in my bed was mention getting laid, I would’ve done it much sooner.”

You trailed your hand down, gripping Emily’s chin in your hand. Catching her gaze, you quirked an eyebrow in question.

Emily rolled her eyes at you. “Yes, I’ve wanted you in my bed since you started the team. Can you blame me? Look at you,” she said, her eyes traversing over your skin.

You felt your body flush in nervous excitement, unbelieving that your very capable, very hot boss harbored the same feelings you did.

Before you could question her further, Emily sat back on her heels, her hands rubbing soothing circles over your knees. “Are you feeling okay? Do you want to take a break?”

You smiled, finding it adorable that she was always looking out for you. But it wasn’t necessary. “I was promised to cum on your cock, was I not?” You smirked at her. You had a feeling that the dirty talk was to Emily as the pet names were to you.

Emily pinched your hip, rolling off of the bed before disappearing into her closet. “Lose the attitude before I come back or I’ll fuck it out of you, angel,” she tossed over her shoulder, missing the way your entire body shivered in anticipation. You hoped this was just the beginning of exploring each other's bodies.

When Emily came out of the closet, you had to stop yourself from drooling. Attached to her hips was a decently sized cock, a dark purple shade that wasn’t too silly looking. Emily was already a confident person, but something about the added appendage gave her extra swagger. She looked comfortable in it, experienced. You couldn’t wait to see how she took it out on you.

“Hands and knees, pretty girl.”

You rolled over without having to be asked twice. It was one of your favorite positions to be fucked in, the depth of which you could feel the fake phallus almost always took your breath away and left you trembling.

In your admiration of how Emily looked packing, you missed all of the other goodies she was carrying in her hands. You felt the bed dip behind you, Emily’s hands spreading your thighs apart, leaving your pussy exposed to the cool air of the room.

“You look so pretty like this, waiting for me. You were wet before, but now you’re absolutely dripping down your thighs.”

A swift smack to the outer aspect of your ass left you bucking into the air, trying to feel Emily’s strap behind you. Her hands massaged the rounded globes of your ass, feeling the muscles beneath her hands quiver. “How do you feel about plugs?” She asked, pulling apart your cheeks to watch the way your entire lower half clenched in anticipation.

Emily lowly chuckled, “Mh, seems like that’s a yes, but I need verbal consent, baby.” One of her hands drifted down, gathering your abundant wetness, before slicking some back up to your puckered hole, smearing it around the outside.

Your breath was already coming in fast pants and you could feel the way the blood was rushing south. Your skin felt electric, buzzing, as if every hair was standing straight up in attention. You took a deep, steadying breath, pulling air in through your nose before exhaling slowly through your mouth. “Please, Em, put it inside me and then fuck me,” you breathed. “Wanna be so full of you,” you whined, pushing your hips back at her.

Emily gripped your hips harder, whimpering at how much that turned her on. How much you turned her on. She grabbed the plug from beside her on the bed, rubbing it between your legs to gather your wetness. You had to stop yourself from thrusting against it, the pressure only minimal on your clit.

Emily trailed the plug up, watching as you arched your back, exposing more of you to her. She had to take a second to compose herself, not wanting to hurt you. Slowly, she inched the plug inside of you, watching as your body expanded and contracted taking it in.

Once it was fully inside, you had to take multiple shuddering breaths as Emily rubbed your hips. You’ve used plugs before, but with the way Emily commanded your body, you were at a pleasure you’ve never been at before.

“Look at you, so pretty for me,” Emily said, bending over and placing small kisses around your ass, letting you adjust to the pressure of it inside you. “I can’t wait to watch and listen to you cum for me.”

The whine you let out was almost pathetic; you could hear the desperation in your voice. “Please, Em, fuck me now.” Your legs spread a little more, opening you up further. The pleasure was already so intense that your upper body collapsed against the bed.

You could feel Emily move a little behind you. She trailed the head of the strap along your lower lips, lubricating it with your own wetness, watching you tremble each time it passed over your clit. Emily looked down, the shininess of the cock making her almost whine, before leaning down and spitting on it to further lubricate it. She used her hand to rub up and down, making sure it was well coated before lining it up with your entrance. “Ready, baby?”

“Fuck me, mommy, now.”

Emily didn’t hesitate, thrusting into you slowly, but with the confidence and force you needed. The cock dragged along your inner walls, but also against the plug that was nestled inside. The pressure was enough to have you clawing at the sheets for some sort of relief, not that you wanted to get away from how good it felt. It was simultaneously everything and not enough.

Emily, still able to read you like a book, started moving faster, her thrusts shallow, allowing you to feel each ridge and bump of the silicone cock inside of you. “Fuck, you’re taking me so well,” she moaned.

There was something about hearing Emily moan, whimper, and whine for you. Her voice had gotten more intense, gravelly, and you wanted it to wrap around you so you could melt into it.

You started to thrust back against her, wanting it harder and deeper and more. You pushed up onto your hands, feeling the way each thrust made your breasts bounce back and forth. You couldn’t help any of the noises that were tumbling from your lips, your body just sinking into the buzz of pleasure and riding the waves. Again, you could feel the pressure building up inside you, like flames ready to explode.

Emily’s hand made its way into your hair, grabbing a handful and yanking you upwards. Your back now pressed against her front, you could feel her rapid breathing and hardened nipples at your back, only fueling the fire inside you more. Her thrusts never slowed down, but managed to hit a deeper spot inside you.

“Fuck, I can feel you squeezin’ around my cock, baby.” A few more deep thrusts and you knew you were going to cum hard.

Not wanting to disappoint Emily, you started to thrust back harder, trying to get her deeper inside you. Knowing you needed a little more, one of her hands traversed down your front, quickly finding your hardened nub and started rubbing fast circles in time with her thrusts. Her other hand went the opposite direction, sliding around your throat, gripping it tightly sending you into another harsh wave of euphoria.

Emily’s lips made home on the side of your neck, licking and sucking, tasting the salty sweat that had accumulated there. “Be a good girl for mommy and cum for me, now.”

Your entire body seized, a loud moan spewed from your mouth, continuing with each little drive of Emily’s hips against yours as she fucked you through the orgasm. Unable to hold yourself up, Emily lowered you gently to the bed, her hips slowing to a stop. She smoothed your hair away from your face, her breath coming out in puffs helping to cool you off some.

Emily went to pull out of you, but the whine of protest left before she was even half way out. “Oh? What’s that, babygirl?”

You tried to glance back at her, your eyes barely catching before you felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. “I want you to cum inside me, Em.” You wiggled your hips back a little more, moaning as her cock went back inside your pulsating cunt. “Make me cum one more time, please,” you almost begged.

“Fucking hell,” she whimpered, starting to slowly thrust into you again. Your body had had enough time to settle that you knew you could cum again, but you knew it was going to drain you.

Laying down like you were, the pressure of both her cock and the plug inside you was even more pronounced. You tried to angle your hips up, tried to lift a leg and bend a knee to switch up the position, but you weren’t sure it was enough. You needed something different.

Almost as if she was inside your head, Emily pulled out. Before you could protest much, she rolled over and dragged you on top of her. She helped you line up your cunt with her cock, and she moaned at watching you sink back down on it.

You weren’t sure if you had the energy to do all of the work bouncing up and down, so you rolled your hips back and forth, watching as Emily’s face contorted in pleasure. With each forward roll of your hips, Emily’s eyes almost rolled back, and that’s when you realized part of the cock was inside her and each move you made could be felt inside her as well.

Knowing Emily had a thing for your dirty mouth, you knew this was your turn to get her off. “Look at me, Em. Look how deep you are inside me.”

Emily’s blown pupils met yours, her lip caught between her teeth as she tried not to fuck into you, letting you run the show.

“You look so good under me, Em. I bet you’d look even better if I was the one fucking you.”

Emily’s nostrils flared, her hands shooting up to grab your hips as her feet planted firmly on the mattress. “Next time.” One of her hands moved to the base of the strap, holding it as you rutted against it. “For now, I want you to cum hard on mommy’s cock like the good little whore you are.”

You whimpered out a quick, “yes, mommy,” before grinding harder against her. Before you could get too invested in your pace, Emily’s hand that had been holding the cock pressed the button that made the vibrations come to life.

Your mouth opened wide, your eyes just as big, as you felt the pleasure run through your entire body.

Emily smirked up at you, almost sadistically, before starting to thrust up at you from below. You could tell that she was just as close as you were, the way her hands were gripping tighter to your hips. Emily’s own hips were moving at almost a break-neck pace, brushing your front wall and clit with each thrust out, and going deeper than before on each thrust in.

This time, the pressure coiled in your lower belly, expanding outwards to all of your extremities, before coiling its way back into your torso. The vibrations seemed to match your rapid heart beat, as if you could feel each pulsating buzz in every one of your cells. Your head was tossed back, trying not to break as wave after wave brushed through you.

You only came back to Earth when you felt Emily’s fingers start to rub your clit in time with the vibrations. You glanced down at her, captivated by her look of utter primal need, like you were the only thing that mattered in this moment.

“Together,” she said.

Fireworks. Volcanic eruption. The explosion of stars.

You felt your cunt clamp down on the cock inside of it, Emily trying to continue to fuck you through each swell of pleasure, the pressure finally releasing with a gush of wetness as your body trembled with Emily’s.

As the euphoria left both of you, you lowered your body to Emily’s trying to quell the tremors that were wreaking havoc on your system.

Emily’s hands came up, holding you to her, smoothing over your back. Her lips found their way to the side of your face, peppering little kisses on any part of you they could reach. “Such a good girl for me, baby.” She continued to whisper sweet nothings in your ear until you caught your breath.

“Lets get cleaned up, hm? I’ll run us a bath?”

You leaned up, catching her eyes. You could see all of the contentment and ecstasy in hers, but also the nervousness. As if you might leave any second.

You smiled, leaning up to kiss her gently, trying to convey everything you were feeling. That this wasn’t a one time thing for you. That she wasn’t just a one off. “A bath sounds great.”

Emily smiled back at you, twirling a piece of your hair with her fingers. Now everyone including her was getting laid around here.

#emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss fanfic #emily prentiss #virescent v fanfic #emily prentiss x you #emily prentiss fanfiction #no use of y/n #except me part 2 #if you want to see the lingerie that inspired that scene lmk :P

377 notes · View notes

yoimix · 1 year

Text

genshin men + sleepless nights

ft. diluc, xiao, kaveh

playlist. afterglow - taylor swift ; like real people do - hozier ; kiss goodnight - i don’t how but they found me

[ tw: nightmares, suggestive ]

✽ diluc is well-acquainted with nightmares. he often wakes up in the quiet of the night to dreadful noise inside his head, grating, punishing him for the past. but now that he instead meets your soft touch and warm breath, he finds himself calming down easier. i’ll keep you safe. he’s said that to you before, in the heat of battle. only recently did he discover you’re keeping that promise when the flames have died down. the world is cruel, but despite that, he will still love you. that is his promise to you. even through rapid, unsteady breathing, he seeks out the nook of your shoulder, pressing his forehead against your skin like you’re the magic remedy to his ailments. you shiver sometimes, mumbling that his hair tickles; it only makes him sigh in relief, and you hold yourself back from giggling maniacally at the sensation. you smooth his hair away from your neck but he only buries himself further in.

“diluc.”

“mhm.”

“now, you’re just messing with me, aren’t you?”

“why would i ever do that?”

you huff and diluc smiles, lips pressing against your neck in a flurry of soft kisses.

“diluc! that tickles,” you complain, weakly pushing his head away. a deep chuckle rumbles from him and he rises to finally meet your eyes.

“can i kiss you?” he whispers, suddenly sincere.

“now you ask? after you’ve violated my poor neck like that?”

“you didn’t complain last time.” he raises an eyebrow.

“really, diluc?” you scoff. “where’s all this unbridled confidence coming from? usually you’d blush like a newly-wed bride the moment i whisper something in your ear.”

diluc rolls his eyes, a faint glow over his cheeks under the moonlight. “that’s not true. and... and i... i’m simply enjoying myself.”

you whistle. “mondstadt’s very own winery tycoon discovers the joys of teasing his lover in the dead of night. riveting.”

diluc sighs in exasperation, throwing his hands up. “can you not? you always tease me.”

“you’re so easy to tease.” you bite down your lips. it doesn’t go unnoticed by your boyfriend, his impulse fighting to take over the control he exerts.

he caves, leaning in to press a chaste kiss against your mouth. his lips linger; one kiss, two kisses, till he has you pressed against his chest, his arms secure around your waist.

you pull away, before placing a quick kiss to his nose. none of the other kisses have the effect as this one, for his ears nearly spark with the rush of heat to his face.

“are you growing a stubble?” you bite down a teasing smile. “i don’t want my chin all itchy every time we kiss.”

he grimaces. “no. i’ll shave tomorrow. it makes me look too much like my father.”

you purse your lips. it’s the same quiet of winter as the one you met him in. he was a talented boy, and you, the bane of his existence. since then, many winters have passed, some cozy, some silly, and some lonely and grieving. the winery has dimmed (even diluc), but everything is always bright in your wide eyes, from the lush grapevines to the sunset-haired man. you’re both aware you cannot win against time. and so, just like him, you keep every postcard.

“diluc,” you call, hesitant. “it’s not a bad thing.”

“i know,” he responds curtly.

you never learned what to say. diluc never wants you to.

he holds your wrist, lifting it up to place your palm against his cheek again. it’s quiet. he breaks eye contact.

“i have regrets, (name). and they’re all because of... my ego.”

“diluc-”

when it rains, it pours.

“if only i were... if only i were a better man... if i were less cruel,” he whispers, remorse coating his tongue like ash.

you smooth your thumb over his cheek, till he sighs. diluc meets your eyes with the glow of embers, soft and a little lost, maybe.

“you’re a good man to me,” you say finally. “i think that’s a good start.”

diluc sighs again, snapping himself out of his daze. “and you’re too good to me.”

“who else will buy me sickly sweet flowers and get me the best dandelion wine in mondstadt?”

diluc rolls his eyes, taking your wrists once again to plant a kiss each against them.

“thank you, (name),” he says, a smile finally sprouting on his warm lips.

“of course, diluc,” you mumble. “you mean so much to me... anyway, shall we bake tomorrow? surely you can leave the abyss alone for the weekend.”

diluc blinks. “actually...”

your smile drops and he gulps, swallowing his words.

“yes,” he answers. “my schedule is clear tomorrow. but i’m... i’m not quite proficient with baking, my love.”

“that’s alright.” you wave your hand dismissively before going off on a tangent, on a path of words diluc’s quite familiar with. snapdragon flowers, dandelion seeds, sweet flower jam—you certainly have a wide knowledge of all of these. he’s seen you collect them for hours on end, your odd little baking experiments giving adelinde a heart attack. you’ve always been this way. after all these years, the winery thinks of you as fondly as he does.

diluc tucks your hair behind your ears, running his fingers through your hair once you’re snuggled up in bed again. you’re still mumbling about narrowing down which recipe to try tomorrow morning in a sleep-laced haze. diluc can’t get enough of it.

“you mean so much to me too,” he whispers.

✽ xiao is a warrior first and foremost, and everyone knows warriors can never sleep at night. for xiao, it’s a special case. his war is not a war people can thank him for, nor does he see an end to it. it is invisible to most, and his battle scars are the only monument to his acts of deliverance. but you... you, with your curious eyes and fickle fingers, always running your mouth about his tattoos and breaks in his schedule—is he supposed to open up so easily? is he supposed to sigh in relief at your animated explanations or get so drowsy on sunlit afternoons when you’re around? is he supposed to desperately want to hold you? perhaps he is, for his eyes always seek your figure, hands itching to drop his spear and take your hands instead. if he asks for forgiveness for all that he is, would you smile at him and pretend he is as human as you? no, he’s known you for months. you’d do something outrageously stupid—and it’d be the medicine to all his ailments.

“how is it my fault?” he pinches the bridge of his nose.

“of course it’s your fault!” you huff.

“i never prevented your... afternoon naps.”

“but you wouldn’t nap with me!” you throw your hands up, reasoning as though it’s common sense for him to know. “do you know how cold it was? i nearly shivered myself off the cliff!”

xiao feels a rush of blood to his cheeks, coughing to hide the hot discomfort.

“and now you refuse to sleep in my nice, warm bed, which i made very specifically for you. not that you care but it’s very comfortable. ahh, it’s good to be home once in a while.”

why are you advertising your bed to him? it’s not like he’s going to buy it. he doesn’t have mora anyway, nor will he ever need to carry it.

“i don’t need to sleep,” he states, re-emphasizing his point. “i am a yaksha.”

“i don’t care,” you grumble, sleeplessness clearly clawing at your brain. “you swore an oath to me.”

xiao blinks. “this was... this was not the oath. i said i’d come to you when you need me if you—”

“—call your name,” you interrupt, tapping your feet impatiently. “xiao. xiao. conqueror of demons. my dearly beloved. xiao. i need your help.”

xiao’s not sure when the terms of the contract spiraled into something like this. you are partners; a dashing young adventurer and a cynical yaksha who are already unlikely to be friends. since when have you grown so close to him? in fact, if he were to lean in...

absolutely not.

xiao straightens. he didn’t realize the physical proximity at first.

“are you... teasing me?” he nearly spits poison with that question. though, you’d savor that poison like sweet wildberries.

“is it so strange to sleep beside me?” you take a step back, chewing on your lip. some things do deter you. despite being a hardy adventurer.

it’s already strange enough for me to sleep, he wants to say.

“will it make your night easier?” he asks quietly.

you brighten visibly. the moonlight pales when you look like that.

“alright,” he answers, staring at your brisk nodding.

he sits hesitantly at the corner of your bed, looking up at you with innocuous eyes. you stand in front of him, lacking your usual movement like you’re still processing everything. for a moment, you look flustered. but it’s not like xiao can tell. on your face, everything looks sweet.

“i...i- uh...” you stutter. “i didn’t think i’d get this far.”

xiao raises an eyebrow.

“a-anyway. scoot. this is my favorite side.”

“you... humans have favorite sides?”

“well, some of us do. some of us don’t care. i happen to have one though so you’ll have to deal with it, mr yaksha.”

it’s not like he hasn’t dealt with worse. he drags his legs onto the bed and shifts awkwardly till he’s made space for you.

you jump into bed with the energy of a vishap hatchling, and the thought is so ridiculous he suppresses a smile.

at first, there is peace. then you inch closer, like slower movement would fool his trained senses. he’s warned you before. karmic debt is not a trifling matter—and your weak skin and bones cannot withstand it.

time has proved, however, that you are not as weak to him as he is to you.

“does it hurt?” you ask.

“hm?” he turns his head, caught off-guard.

“y’know...” you continue. “your fights. i’ve seen some nasty injuries. do they hurt?”

you’ve never asked him about his past. he’s numb to it now, but you never poke your head there. even if you’ve poked it nearly everywhere it shouldn’t be.

“not quite.”

not now.

perhaps baizhu has been going about the wrong way making medicine for him. or perhaps, you are an ingredient undiscovered by the medical world.

“good.” you grin, and his heart flakes on him. all this from a smile? the conqueror of demons folding like a crumpled piece of paper? but it’s you, after all. he should know better. “if i hurt you, let me know.”

xiao chokes a little, words spawning and dying just as rapidly in his throat. what can he possibly say to you?

“maybe i won’t have nightmares anymore now,” you mumble, snuggling closer to his arm. it must be uncomfortable, xiao thinks. his arm, bone and muscle, was not made to be rested upon.

but you cling so dearly.

“you’ve been having nightmares?” he asks. he never asks you about your nights. at least directly. acute observation gets him most answers and you are not a difficult person to read. so your declaration truly leaves him puzzled.

you don’t answer immediately.

“(name)?”

“yeah. they make me uncomfortable. but nothing like a little fear to keep me on my toes, right?”

xiao gets what you’re saying, but he doesn’t necessarily approve of it. he’s not the kind to poke his nose into someone else’s business, but at this proximity your fresh, earthy smell mingles so perfectly into his own. is it still someone else’s business if you breathe as one, every exhale tangling into each others’?

“i could eat them.”

you pause to blink before snickering loudly, clutching your stomach. silence follows.

“wait, you’re serious?”

“yes.”

“of course. i should’ve known. uh... i don’t think you need to do that.”

“they don’t hurt me too much.”

“so they do hurt you?”

“...”

xiao purses his lips, trying not to meet your focused gaze. unfortunately, it lands on your sweet, plump lips. he immediately jerks his head to the side.

“i already told you,” you continue, paying no heed. “no more nightmares for me now.”

“you can’t be sure of that.”

“it’s scientifically backed,” you press, voice dropping to a comforting whisper, “that you fall asleep faster, and sleep much better with a loved one.”

does he constitute a loved one? xiao parts his lips and closes them.

“look at me.”

xiao can’t. he’s all too aware of the physical proximity, all too aware of your fingers drawing circles on his arms. you will not ask, he knows. but neither will he.

and sometimes you don’t need to.

you draw nearer to land a kiss on his cheek. it’s not a demanding touch, light as feather, in fact. but xiao feels blood rush to his head like never before.

“you- i- i think that- you look cute,” you manage to say out loud, not quite what you mean. “so... um... can you please look at me?”

xiao turns his head finally, to meet an expression he has never seen before. lips pursed, eyes flitting nervously, and chest heaving slow and unsteady. he’s seen this among mortals. never in you.

and it’s strange to admit just how accustomed he’s become to mortal life.

xiao’s breath ghosts over your lips, hesitation still clawing at his throat. being a decisive fighter does not make him very decisive in other regards.

so, you do it for him. pressing your warm lips to his, you sigh just as he does, like the night is finally warm again. though his beating heart says otherwise, he feels so at peace for once that drowsiness settles on his eyelids and he draws even closer to you. relief is not a feeling he is accustomed to.

you pull away to place your head against his chest, squeezing his torso in a hug. he knows it’s a way of showing comfort. but he can’t possibly describe what he feels from that. can you do it again?

“will you come sleep here tomorrow night too?” a small smile plays on your lips when you face him.

“i suppose,” he answers.

“and the next?”

“mhm.”

“...and the next?”

xiao cannot help his smile.

“i swore an oath, did i not?”

✽ kaveh is too impatient to stay still in bed when he can’t sleep. he’d rather take advantage of his insomnia to work on the bubbles of inspiration that rise and fizz out as quickly as they come. but every time he’s lying beside you, he can’t bring himself to pry your arms away from his torso. it’d be sacrilege to wake you up, not when you look so quiet and peaceful, away from a world of dry commotions. and on nights you can’t sleep, he refuses to go to bed too. it is imperative to his sleep that you doze off beside him. he doesn’t need incessant proofs of his passion, and he doesn’t need the akademiya’s validation. all he wants is a life as soft and precious as you, like dew on padisarah in the early mornings he sleeps through. oh, all the things he would give up to have you sleeping soundly by his side this night, and the next, and the next. it aches to have you away.

“i can’t sleep, kaveh,” you mutter, annoyed.

“i know,” he responds, lips upturned. “this is the fifth time you’ve said it in the past twenty minutes.”

“you’re exaggerating,” you huff, tugging closer to his chest anyway. “i should not have stayed past six at puspa cafe.”

“ah. so whose fault is it that you can’t sleep?”

you scowl. “i thought the coffee wouldn’t have an effect on me. it wasn’t that strong.”

kaveh quietens, and for a moment, you worry he’s fallen asleep.

“shall we take a walk then? when i watch the city sleep, i want to fall asleep too.”

you pause before sitting up and following his lead, hand in weary hand. you make sure to be as quiet as mice, so as to not wake up kaveh’s sleeping roommate. usually, your boyfriend wouldn’t care. but it seems your considerate nature has taken a toll on him.

the smell of spices still wafts through the streets long after everyone has closed shop. the dogs have followed their owners home, and the strays are curled up by alleys and corners in a huddle of warmth. at least where you’re at, the two of you are the only souls treading the pavement, save for a few stragglers, cats prowling and students celebrating the end of finals. you can almost feel their relief, laughing with kaveh as you notice a young scholar holler in joy with his friends when an old lady immediately shuts them down to be quiet.

“what was that about the city sleeping?” you hum, elbowing him.

“and you really thought you were immune to caffeine?” kaveh retorts, amusement playing on his lips.

“shut up.” you lightly punch his arm, which he, of course, reacts to overdramatically. to him, that’s the cutest ‘shut up’ he’s ever heard.

a fresh breeze passes by the two of you, making him step closer, shoulders touching and fingers intertwined.

“lately,” he starts, ruby eyes lost in contemplation, “my team’s been researching the lost paradise of king deshret. they say he made a contract with the god of time to build an eternal oasis, all the wonders of the land frozen in a beautiful frame for the goddess of flowers. isn’t that lovely?”

“what’s so lovely about building a cemetery for someone you love?”

kaveh sighs. but when he opens his mouth, there is no answer. you hide a small smile as he thinks.

“well, it was to honor her passing... but you’re right. i’d rather honor the living.”

“well, king deshret also went mad. good to see you’re still sane.”

kaveh turns red. “i’m not joking! you see the beauty in all this, don’t you?”

a smile tugs your lips as you reach out to grab his face. “yes, of course. but more so in your face. and your hands. and your mouth. and your stupid little head with all its wild imaginations.”

“you tease me too much,” he huffs when you’re done planting rapid kisses to his face. his expression is something between a scowl and pout, hands comfortably over yours as they rest against his cheeks.

“do you dislike it?”

“i’m not answering that.”

your laughter is full of heart, and kaveh can’t help but join in, throwing his head back as he does.

saturday evenings are quiet at the center of the city; but the further you branch out towards the hubs, there are lively crowds waiting to greet you. your next destination is lambad’s tavern, stopping to grab a cup of water and converse with kaveh’s old classmates from the akademiya. it must be a ksharehwar thing to seemingly never sleep.

kaveh’s so-called remedy to sleeplessness ends up turning into a catch-up session, sleep tossed out of the window. the warm glow of the tavern, however, makes you miss his bed more. perhaps his trick did work, in a strange, twisted way. but still, you don’t appreciate the long way around.

it takes a while before you can finally walk out the doors of the tavern—and the night simmers down again when you find him. looks like your boyfriend has made friends with the wood, as he rests his head on one of the outdoor tables of the tavern, all by himself. you feel a sting of guilt for holding him back from his sleep. it’s not easy, working day to day on as little sleep as he does.

“kaveh,” you call.

he meets you with a dazed smile, clumsy and unsteady in the way he moves.

“did you drink when i wasn’t looking?” you ask, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

he frowns immediately at your accusation, shoulders sagging. “can’t i be this way because of you?”

“well, it’s usually your drunken stupor.”

he huffs. “you’ll never know what you do to me if you keep your so-called logic wrapped so tight around your throat.”

“why? is there something else you’d rather have wr—”

“ahem.” kaveh flushes so deep, he’d put zaytun peaches to shame with that hue. “what i mean is. you don’t know the effect you have on me. it might as well be intoxication.”

you press your knuckle to your nose, trying to hide your smile. kaveh is quick to catch on, his grin widening.

“no, it must be intoxication,” he presses, moving closer to you with eyebrows furrowed. “i even get along with alhaitham these days. can you imagine?”

you giggle. “how frightening.”

kaveh leans in, his eyes shining prettier in the moonlight. if only you knew they open to reflect you. his expression eases and a smile blossoms.

“you make me see love everywhere,” he whispers, lips hesitantly hovering over yours. “and it is wonderful to feel that way. thank you.”

“oh gosh, you’re so... you say sickliest sweet things. it’s disgusting.”

before he can retort, you tug on the strawberry blond strands, pressing your lips to his. he does not let you pull away, his arm snug around your waist. with kaveh, the butterflies never die, natural when his lips taste of honey.

“for the record,” he slurs, drunk off your kiss more than any alcohol. “i would build you more than paradise. i would start laying the bricks for heaven if you asked.”

and you’d make sure he sleeps soundly instead each night he forces himself to work. he’s too sweet for his own good. in the city of wisdom, everyone knows the cost of love without labor. but your attempts to ensure his rest is your labor.

you laugh, patting his cheek. “how about you start laying the bricks to a house of your own?”

an instant pout tugs at his swollen lips.

“oh, don’t get mad.” you cups his cheeks and pull his face to your level, pressing a feather kiss to his forehead. “i know times are hard for dreamers like you.”

“you make me sound so silly.”

“i’m sorry.” you caress your thumb over his cheek, worried you’ve overstepped in your teasing.

“no.” he smiles sheepishly. “i don’t mind being your silly boyfriend. if it makes you smile, at the very least.”

“you silly man.”

“you’re smiling.”

“is the victory satisfying?”

“sort of...” his voice drops to a cheeky whisper as he leans in close to your ear. “but the rest of the night can be... more so.”

“kaveh. we’re in public!”

“what, it’s not like it’s a secret. alhaitham and our poor neighbors are the first victims if you suddenly want to be considerate of that.”

“oh my god.”

“c’mon. kiss me. there’s no one else outside.”

“if there’s anyone who appreciates a room, it should be you.”

“mhm. yes. a bedroom, more so right now.”

you smack your hand over his mouth, unable to hold back your laughter at the flabbergasted look on his face. it slowly morphs into annoyance, and then acceptance.

“don’t be upset,” you say, placing a light kiss on his nose.

you know just the way to sedate him. kaveh should have you arrested for whatever violations you’re committing against him. there must be laws against the fevers you raise on his skin. right?

“shall we go home?” you smile with sleepy eyes.

and his heart melts. there’s nothing more he wants than a home with you.

“lead the way, my love.” he grins wide, and suddenly, the marble and the cobblestones melt away, your hand over his the only stronghold left. it is not loud enough yet to leave his mouth, but the answer to the architect’s greatest dilemma—is you.

2K notes · View notes

kiestrokes · 8 months

Text

astringe | NSFW

Pairing: Hwang Hyunjin x Reader/You/Yn Rating: NSFW! Mature (18+) Minors DNI. Word Count: 2516 Genre: smut, porn without plot, friends to lovers. Warnings: artsy undercut Hyunjin from the last month + 2023 VMA's, college, art school, a variety of kissing, handholding, Hyunjin is confident, mentions of a fantasy book featuring a blood mage which is a nod to @chans-room and a lovely fic they are crafting up.

Sexually Explicit Content: consented choking (this is the main focus of this fic DO NOT read if you don't enjoy choking in theory or real life), sexual intercourse (penis in vagina) cowgirl, missionary, some breast play but not really, mutual orgasms. let me know if I missed anything!

Summary: Things get a little tense in the library when your best friend innocently discovers your secret asphyxiation kink. He just wanted a better angle of your neck, but now that he's found it, how could he not toy with you a little?

🗝️ Note: sooo this brain rot had consumed me all of my workday yesterday and was only intensified after that undercut reveal at the VMA's. Hyunjin has been a fucking menace lately and I just needed to yeet this my from my brain. So yea, enjoy 🙏🏼thank you to B for their lovely beta read 🖤

Disclaimers: This is a work of fiction; I do not own any of the idols depicted in this story.

Read it on Ao3!

You’re tucked away into what is arguably your favorite place on campus- a window alcove nestled between two rows of bookshelves stocked with the full collection of Oxford dictionaries that nobody ever uses anymore. Thanks to the invention of smartphones.

Your best friend, sketching away on the window sill across from you as the sun descends into twilight.

Hyunjin looks every part the troubled artist; a black sweater draped over his broad shoulders, dark hair pulled back nonchalantly, displaying his freshly shaved undercut, silver-rimmed glasses glinting under the fading halogen bulbs, a singular black nail pinching a bit of oil crayon as it glides across the thick paper of his sketchbook and rambling about how he needs to work on specific body parts more.

You’re immersed in your fantasy novel, humming along, without the notion that you are his current subject or what he is saying at this point. The handsome blood mage has captured the warrior princess and is taking her back to his-

Hyunjin’s hands are suddenly around your throat and your brain doesn't have time to stop the strangled moan that leaves your lips. Your book topples to the carpeted floor with a soft thud, announcing the loss of your place. You regain enough awareness to fight off your body's natural response to this type of touch. How you want to close your eyes, to sink into the hand cupping your neck, and relinquish control.

Hyunjin’s observant gaze catches it and a mischievous smirk marks his beautiful lips. Slowly he begins to toy with your neck, turning you at angles with a slight flex of his fingers and jut of his thumb into your jawbone. Pretending to sketch the slopes and hollows of your throat, his interest already elsewhere. He grasps the column suddenly and your spine snaps arching your chest forward with a moan, your own hands clawing helplessly at the denim of your pants.

“Shhh, you don’t want anyone to hear you.” His tongue toys with his top lip as he strokes your throat firmly with his thumb.

“Hyun-”

Hyunjin squeezes again, his gaze cutting to yours, the intensity of his eyes causing a whine to get caught in your chest.

He abandons the sketchbook and slips up next to you, his large thigh pressing into yours. His arm comes to rest between your breasts, rising and falling with your rapid breathing.

“Does this turn you on?”

You nod subtly. Head kicking back as he gifts you with another squeeze for answering his question honestly, biting your lip hard to keep all sounds locked behind your teeth.

“Why aren’t you stopping me?” He looks at you from under his brow, smiling almost wickedly.

Your lip slips from your teeth and a whimper escapes, Hyunjin rewards you with a firm press to the sides of your neck. You can feel your pulse thrumming against the tips of his fingers, and your eyes close in an attempt to calm your breathing.

“Do you want me?” Hyunjin’s cool breath fans across your lashes.

“Yes,” You whisper.

Hyunjin’s hand slips up to cup your jaw, his thumb caressing your lip before tugging it down. Your eyes snap open to find his gaze focused on his hand, and your lips. Then he's standing suddenly, like nothing had just occurred between the two of you. Calmly collecting his things, and slipping them into his bag along with your book he retrieves from the floor.

Not a word is spoken until he looks down at you expectantly, “Let's go then.”

You stand up shakily and Hyunjin wraps your hand in his, tucking you into his side and turning the two of you toward the exit. Hyunjin smiles politely at the librarians as they wave goodbye on your way out. His other fingers interlocked with yours as he guides you toward the elevators.

Hyunjin had lucked out in having a solo artist suite above the library, your second favorite place on campus.

Inside the elevator, you watch him in the tin reflection. Hyunjin smirks back at you, slipping your hand into the pocket of his baggy pants, and pressing the tips of your fingers into his erection. You gasp and turn to look at him, but he’s already watching you. An unspoken acknowledgment that he wants you too.

Hyunjin’s eyes only intensified behind the magnification of his circular glasses. With all the metal surrounding you, you’re all too aware of the charged energy behind Hyunjin’s gaze. As if you were to reach out and touch the wall of the rattling lift, you would be electrocuted.

The elevator dings and you tear your eyes away from him. Hyunjin removes your hand from his pocket and pulls you out of the elevator, toward his room. He punches the code in with his free hand and gestures you inside, finally releasing your hand from his firm grasp. Inside, the room is the same as it always is; dimly lit by a single lamp by the bed, bathing everything in a buttery glow that softens the sharp edges of Hyunjin’s drawing desk and stacks of sketchbooks.

You slip your sandals off and pad unsurely over to the bed, toes pinching into the soft checkered rug at the foot of his bed. The heat of Hyunjin’s body alerts you that he has moved on from removing his shoes and hanging up his bag at the door.

You tilt your head to look up at him, just as his eyes meet yours his hand is on your throat again, stroking up before spreading firmly across your larynx.

Hyunjin’s lip's part when you press into his hand, asking for more, consenting to be choked. His lashes flutter in a soft laugh when you moan at the squeeze he bestows. He presses his front to your back, his other hand slipping under your sweater, across the soft skin of your stomach, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

“What a lovely little secret you kept from your best friend,” His lips ghost yours as he squeezes again, a groan erupting from your throat.

Hyunjin breathes a laugh as he shuffles you over to the bed, the front of his thighs pressing into the backs of yours as if you are a doll, marionetting you exactly where he wants.

Your knees bump into the end of the bed and Hyunjin’s hand slips from your throat, turning you around to face him and tossing you down on your back with a soft push. Your hands fist the soft gray fleece of his bedding, anchoring yourself to something, solidifying yourself in this moment.

He wastes no time ridding himself of his clothing, tugging off the sweater, dropping his pants and boxers to be shamelessly nude before you.

You gulp, gaze bouncing across the chiseled body of your best friend. Hyunjin smiles knowingly, everyone reacts to him this way, he just didn’t expect that switch to be so easily flipped on in you. He rakes a hand through his hair, tugging out the tie and allowing his dark locks freedom. While his other hand rises to remove the glasses.

“No-”

He stops and shoots you a quizzical look, one that is punctuated with a paradoxically cute tilt of his head.

“Leave them on.”

He grins, “another kink.”

Hyunjin rolls his tongue between his lips, as he bends to tug you down the bed by your thighs. The squeak that escapes your mouth earns you an affectionate chuckle from him and you relax at the familiar sound.

This is your best friend, he’s not some inexperienced man pretending to be a dominant. Hyunjin smiles at you as he feels your muscles release underneath his hands.

The urgency with how he undressed himself is the polar opposite of how he unclothes you. His slim fingers slowly unbutton your pants, methodologically like he’s molding your body like clay.

Committing each touch to memory to draw later, each feeling, each sound. The snap of your button, the zip of your pants, you watch his eyes observing every subtlety.

He bites his bottom lip at the tilt of your hips, his eyes tracing how the light casts shadows over the mound of your cunt.

The darkened valleys that your hip bones create as he shifts the denim down your thighs. He tosses them off to accompany his discarded clothing, absently tracing the malleolus of your ankle as he nestles himself between your open thighs.

You move to sit up, thinking your shirt is next, but Hyunjin is quick- he pins you to the bed by your throat and the moan that escapes you is raw.

Hyunjin huffs at you, eyes lidding as the sound impacts him. With his hand firm on your throat, his other fingers dip into the band of your panties, middle finger diving into your slit. He moans himself, eyes closing in pleasure at discovering how wet you are.

Hyunjin releases you altogether, bending over to grab a condom from the crystal ashtray on his nightstand. He rolls it over his length, and everything picks up speed.

Suddenly your panties are gone and Hyunjin spears open your lower lips with one hand, slapping the head of his cock on your swollen clit. You writhe, crying out at the sensation as he circles it with his tip.

“Choking you makes you this wet?” Hyunjin’s eyes are on your face and you blink yours open at him, nodding. “Can you come from it?”

“I don’t know, no one has ever tried. Most guys get too lost in-” You break off and he tilts his head, eyebrows rising slyly.

His tip breaks your entrance, “-this pussy?”

You arch off the bed when he thrusts into your bowed body causing you both to moan loudly.

Hyunjin climbs onto the bed, thighs slipping under yours as he presses your pelvis together.

“Oh fuck, you’re squeezing me so tight,” He heaves out in half moan, half laugh.

“Hyunjin-” you grasp at his arms on your hips and his fierce gaze meets yours as one hand takes its place on your throat, thrusting in and out a few times.

“Squeezing me just like this-shit” his hand on your throat tightens in a way that makes your eyes roll back.

Combined with the sensation of his dick rubbing snuggly into the front wall of your core. He has you panting and whimpering from both.

Hyunjin’s eyes burn into yours as he snaps his hips hard a few times before backing off of you entirely, his chest heaving slightly. You chase after him, legs sprawled open, and tug his mouth to yours with a fistful of his silken hair.

He grins against your mouth, “That's it, show me what you want.”

He slips back onto the bed, guiding you into his lap, and you comply, eagerly. Slowly sinking onto his length, only Hyunjin doesn’t want that, he slams you down by your hips and you both cry out at the stretch and clench of your cunt.

His hands drift up your sides, snatching the hem of your sweater, followed by a one-handed snap of your bra, before both are tossed off into the void of his darkened room.

Hyunjin reclines back against the pillows fluffed up against the headboard, hands trailing down your chest. His right hand, the one that seems to be permanently tinted with oil crayon and kohl smudges your nipples as he grazes them. His pupils spread as he watches you, as you roll your hips forward just a little, to test how he feels in this position.

“It's not too deep for you?” He rolls up into you, bathing in your reaction as you arc forward, breasts thrust towards his face.

He does it again, this time his hand grasping your throat firmly as you shudder against him.

“No,” you moan, rubbing yourself shamelessly into his base.

Hyunjin’s lips part as you continue your gyrations, his hand on your throat constricts in response. You start to pant, your arousal beginning to climb again.

“Fuck” Hyunjin curses.

His pelvis tucking into the bed, away from you as you tighten around him. His other hand rocks your hips encouraging you to keep moving, and you do.

Your eyes lidded as you stare down at your beautiful best friend, his dark hair splayed across the pillows, metal rims of his glasses catching in the light.

Hyunjin smiles at you fondly, his own arousal flaming under your heated gaze. He squeezes your throat again, both of you moaning as you tremble around him. You start to rock, and Hyunjin’s head kicks back as you draw him out and your pussy sucks him back in with urgent strokes.

“Harder,” he bites between clenched teeth, and you slam your ass back, your hands grasping the arm linked to your throat for balance.

You’re not sure who is more lost in the sensation, you or Hyunjin. He lets out a suppressed moan, each time you sink fully into his lap. While you moan and pant unabashedly, gasping for breath as his fingertips alternate long squeezes with short tight ones against the column of your throat.

The coil of your climax sends your nipples into tight buds as it slips across your body, sinking into every muscle.

“Hyun-” you start, and he sits up smashing your lips to his, plush lips parting and tongue diving inside to swallow every moan you release.

With a firm hand on your throat, his hips match your pace, drilling up into you and no longer hiding his vocalization.

Hyunjin’s fingers squeeze tight and hold firm, causing you to burst around him. Overwhelmed not just from the asphyxiation but by his tongue tracing figure eights across yours and the swell of his cock stroking along your sensitive walls.

Arousal gushes out of you, wetting Hyunjin’s lap so that each thrust is announced with an undeniably intimate squelch. You cry a strangled version of his name into his mouth, his lips still working yours until you’re bowing away from him, your spine curving you back.

Hyunjin follows right behind you, fisting your throat one last time before his fingers splay open as he comes apart groaning your name. His head tossed back, hips shaking with effort as you continue to seize around him.

“Fuckfuckfuck,” he whispers as he collapses back against the headboard, “Mmm.”

Hyunjin rubs your thighs affectionately, rolling his hips into you one final time before pulling you down to lay on his chest.

The two of you lay there in near silence, the only sounds are your labored breaths returning to a normal pattern. Hyunjin idly draws lines along your spine, with the tips of his slender fingers as you come down from your high.

“Hyunjin,” you mumble against the valley of his clavicle.

“Hmmm?” He returns sleepily.

“This doesn’t change anything between us, right?” You lift your head to look at his face.

His eyes are closed, and he looks like a Grecian carved work of art. Full lips glistening with your exchanged saliva, cheekbones dewy from sweat.

His hand on your back stills briefly, before flattened palms rub up your rib cage and his eyelashes flutter open to meet your anxious stare.

“A couple of fucks won’t change what's between us, honey.” He says firmly and you smile in relief pressing your forehead to his, he wastes no time in sealing his lips to yours.

524 notes · View notes

libellule-ao3 · 2 months

Text

NSFW Alphabet | Dark!Ominis

Picture Credit: @dvinaamesca

Hello,

Somebody asked me for it, so here it is.🙂

Summary: Some of my smutty headcanons about Dark!Ominis, collected under the "NSFW alphabet" template.

🔞| SMUT | Head-Canon

⚠️ The "Dark!" in Dark!Ominis shows an alternative version exploring the darker aspects of Ominis' personality. According to my version, Dark!Ominis is possessive, dominant and manipulative, which implies elements with dub-con and non-con!

Other tags: domination, possessive ominis, manipulation, erotic asphyxiation, unforgivable curses, praise kink, blood pact, etc....

Since Dark!Ominis is a darker version of my perception of Ominis, some elements of this article may echo my NSFW alphabet of Ominis Gaunt or my HC: Ominis, his eyes & his experience as a blind wizard

Masterlist

A = Aftercare

After turning you into an amorphous, trembling wreck, Dark!Ominis likes to stay snuggled until your last shudder, his head against your chest to listen to the rapid beating of your heart, which beats only for him.

Then he looks after your well-being, taking care of your basic needs such as the care of your injuries inherent in the intensity of your lovemaking (bruises, chafing, burns, etc.), hygiene, diet and hydration. During this process, he wraps you in a softness that is so comforting it surprises you the first time, forcing him to remind you that you belong to him and that Ominis Gaunt, however dark he may be, always takes care of what belongs to him! Don’t forget that!

B = Body part

Ominis loves your skin. Its texture, its warmth, its smell... It’s both the direct interface with your soul and the playground where he can exert his power over you. He alone has the privilege of setting it on fire, making it quiver, marking it, breathing it, tasting it, hurting it and even... repairing it, for the pleasure of starting all over again.

C = Cum

Cumming in you is an affirmation of his total domination. However, his refusal to perpetuate his cursed lineage and his categorical refusal to share you means he will only release himself inside you if you have effective contraception. If not, he will impose one on you, and you should know that he will not hesitate to rip out any life that dares to take root in you.

D = Dirty secret

Although not normally given to exhibitionism, Dark!Ominis sometimes imagines reaffirming his exclusive possession of your charms before the entire world, especially when he witnesses the desire you arouse in someone else. Rather than act out his fantasies in the public arena, he prefers to eliminate any rivalry by cunningly imposing unshakeable bonds, such as an inviolable oath or a blood pact. And all to seal your commitment to each other.

E = Experience

If not an experienced man, Dark!Ominis is an intuitive, well-informed and terribly possessive one whose sole aim is to make you inextricably dependent on him. So he’s fervently committed to outdoing the competition, leaving such an ardent mark that even in your fantasies, it’s impossible to imagine anyone else being able to satisfy you.

F = Favourite position

His favourite position is to have you, bound and helpless, your perfection stretched out suggestively, ready to be savoured, punished or screwed as you deserve. This way, he has full control over what he gives you.

He also likes to have you, standing, chained with your arms and legs spread wide, every inch of your body quivering, accessible and ready to suffer the slightest of his whims.

G = Goofy

Dominating you and turning your body into a ruin of total dependence on him is too serious a matter to laugh at.

H = Hair

Particularly self-aware, Dark!Ominis always makes sure his appearance is impeccable so as not to attract unwanted attention. So he takes care of his appearance and trims his modest body hair. He expects you to do the same, even shaving your private area himself, turning the moment into a unique experience that’s as sensual as it is dangerous - and, much to your chagrin, horribly arousing.

I = Intimacy

The few people he’s ever loved deeply have all left him in the end, and he lives in fear that you, the only person he wants by his side, will leave him too. That’s part of the reason Dark!Ominis seeks intense intimacy during your lovemaking. It strengthens your bond and therefore his hold over you, giving him feel security. It soothes his anxieties about losing you and makes the love you’re supposed to feel for him tangible.

J = Jack off

When he was a teenager, Dark!Ominis saw masturbation as a lack of control over his impulses and, because of his strict upbringing, he associated it with depravity. As a result, he strongly repressed his sexual needs rather than satisfying them.

Today, he’s perfectly comfortable with his sexuality and his darkest desires, but he doesn’t jerk off. Why should he when you’re a slave to his lust?

K = Kink

In his eyes, your total submission is embodied in the ecstasy of erotic asphyxiation.

Closing his hand around your offered throat, savouring your life pulsing under his fingers as he possesses you in the most absolute way, holding the ultimate power of having your existence at his mercy is the quintessence of his domination. He loves to deprive you of oxygen while the pleasure builds and contracts in your core like a spring, and then for you to take in all the air, he allows you to take in as the lust surges through your body, flooding every cell.

It may seem paradoxical, but Dark!Ominis has an enormous need for validation. Receiving your praise reinforces his sense of control and power over you. Also, your praise boosts his self-esteem, which has been damaged by his traumas, and reduces his anxiety about you leaving him.

Like Ominis, he also enjoys temperature play for the variety and sensory intensity.

Dark!Ominis excels at summoning snakes, albino cobras, using the Snake Summons Spell. Far from being mere creatures, his sinister and sensual hissing transforms these reptiles into instruments of immobilisation, torture or, to your shame, pleasure.

L = Location

As soon as you agree to submit to his authority, he orchestrates your immediate removal to his lair, a place where he exercises total control over his environment and over you. In his territory, you have no choice but to bend to his wishes.

In the event of merit or misconduct outside, he uses spells to ensure your privacy while he rewards you or inflicts the punishment you deserve.

As a game, he sometimes takes pleasure in tormenting you discreetly with his fingers or his wand at social events, thus asserting his dominance and constantly reminding you of who you belong to.

M = Motivation

You. No more, no less. When you provoke him, when your kindness envelops him like a soft, warm blanket, when he feels your gaze weighing on him, the smell of your arousal, the jealousy, the need for affection... You and more you...

N = No

Dark!Ominis can be manipulative to get what he wants from you, and he enjoys hurting you until it gives you pleasure. But, dark as he is, unforgivable curses are his red line. He knows that imperius and even cruciatus curse are sometimes used for erotic, but he categorically refuses.

Cuckolding: You belong to him and exclusivity is the pillar of your relationship. Under these conditions, sharing you with someone else makes no sense.

69: When he’s eating you, Ominis refuses to be distracted by anything, even if it’s your greedy mouth.

O = Oral

Destroying your throat with his cock is certainly the most delicious tihing ever. But he also likes to savour what is rightfully his.

P = Pace

He usually savours every moment, taking pleasure in correcting you, forcing your body into submission if you upset him. While his tempo flirts with his changing moods, one constant remains: the amplitude of his movements. He loves to feel every inch of his length opening up your walls, pulling out before thrusting back into you, hard, until his hips slam against yours again and again.

Q = Quickie

He prefers to take his time. However, to punish you and remind you he owns you, he may sometimes force your body to accommodate him to his selfish climax and leave you frustrated with the desire he’s aroused despite you.

R = Risk

Dark!Ominis experiments a lot at beginning your relationship in order to study your reactions, test your limits, and then push them back. But once he’s analysed you, he generally sticks to tried and tested practices.

S = Stamina

Dark!Ominis has patience and determination in spades. Whether he’s punishing you or rewarding you, he can deal with you for hours on end.

T = Toys

Like Ominis, Dark!Ominis disdains the use of toys. They hinder his connection to the nuances of the reactions he provokes (he's already deprived of his sight, he needs to perceive all your sensations). However, he revels in a luxuriant range of accessories and spells to intensify your sessions,

U = Unfair

Dark!Ominis can be profoundly unfair, revelling in the simple pleasure of hearing you beg and sob, pleading for deliverance.

One of his favourite torments is to explore and then relentlessly push back the limits of your pleasure, whether by forcing your orgasms or delaying them.

What’s more, if you’re in need of punishment, Dark!Ominis won’t hesitate to keep you on the edge, making you look forward to a more intense climax than ever, before destroying the orgasm you covet more than anything, thus reinforcing his dominance over you.

V = Volume

His acute self-awareness means that he muffles against you or in his hand the sounds that want to come out of his mouth. However, he demands that you release every cry, every groan, every gasp, and that your lips proclaim to the world who owns you.

W = Wild card

Dark!Ominis is possessive, manipulative, and dominant. However, if he’s in a familiar environment, he may accept a temporary reversal of roles, either to reward you or for strategic reasons.

X = X-ray

Dark!Ominis is tall, slim... His skin is as clear as porcelain, a constellation of moles stretching from his flank to his pubis. His nipples are the same pink as his lips. While not exceptional, Dark!Ominis is rather well equipped in length and girth, straight as an ‘I’.

Y = Yearning (libido)

Before he met you, he had no trouble controlling his libido. Everything’s different now. This upheaval upsets him far more than he’d like, which partly explains his enthusiasm for punishing you.

Z = Zzz

Dark!Ominis struggles with various sleep disorders that are strangely comforted when you sleep in his arms. He has given up trying to understand why, and is content to savour the mystery.

#hogwarts legacy #ominis gaunt #dark!ominis #ominis smut #ominis x reader #hogwarts legacy ominis #ominis x mc

173 notes · View notes

steviewashere · 3 months

Text

In Sickness and Health

Rating: General CW: Discussions of Medical Issues, Referenced/Past Seizures Tags: Established Relationship, Married Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Future Fic, Older Steddie, Canon Divergent, Steve Harrington has Seizures, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Breakdowns, Hurt/Comfort, Angst & Fluff, Eddie Munson Calls Steve Harrington Pet Names

For the @steddielovemonth prompt: "Love is giving them space when they need it."

💕—————💕

Eddie has learned to revel in quiet afternoons, even when he’s alone. The way the sunshine bathes the apartment’s living room carpet—his and Steve’s apartment. Their cat, Poncho, settled heavy and warm in his lap. A chilled glass of southern iced tea and a plate of crackers and sliced cheese. The television volume on low. Book open and set on the arm of the couch. It’s good, the quiet.

Yet, it breaks the moment the front door opens. He didn’t hear Steve stick his key in the lock. But he definitely hears his annoyed groans and huffs. The slam of the door, most likely shut with his hip. A muffled, “Damnit”, when he drops his keyring on the floor.

He peeks from the edge of the couch, eyes set and attentive at their front door. And Steve is there, wrestling with his puffer jacket, grumbling under his breath, kicking his legs and stepping on the backs of his sneakers—something he never does, he cares too much for those things. But here he is. One t-shirt stuck on a doorknob away from a breakdown.

Though, Eddie doesn’t chastise him for the way his emotions express. No matter how explosive they are. Steve just gets like this some days. Too angry to talk. Too begrudged to take care of his things.

What’s new, however, is Steve’s slightly splotchy, puffy face. Red and pink and white. The tears brimming in his eyes. Ever apparent even behind his glasses. A paper with professional scribbling on it—a doctor’s note. He had an appointment this morning. Made last night after an emergency room trip. A seizure is what put him there. Scared them both, Eddie too eager to make him take an appointment, to call in sick to work. He should’ve gone with, if this is how Steve’s coming home.

He plops Poncho on the couch, letting him stretch skywards and curl back into a little ball. Tea abandoned on the coffee table. And Eddie gently comes around the corner, hands hooked in front of himself, still dressed down in pajamas, eyes wide and expecting at Steve.

“St—“

Steve shakes his head. A hand held out in front of him. Jacket and shoes abandoned by the front door. And he sidesteps Eddie completely, barreling down the hallway, slamming the bedroom door behind him, and locking it.

Eddie lumbers after him, slowly, cautiously. Face to the wood of the door. And through it, what breaks his heart, he can hear Steve’s soft cries. He resigns himself to some time on the couch. Steve always needs his space after breakdowns like these.

Needed it after Max woke up in the hospital, half-blind, limbs mostly healed. Needed it after Eddie came out of surgery, pock-marked and head shaved, half a grimace on his face. Needed it when Robin moved out of state for college. After Dustin and Lucas and Mike and Will and Eleven and Max all graduated high school, when they went their separate ways across the country, when they called once or twice a month. When his dad died, the grief a heavy blanket on his shoulders, his chest lighter, his brain angry at being relieved.

Steve needed his space when Eddie brought home their cat (though he came out merely ten minutes later, an excited smile on his face, name on the tip of his tongue). Nightmares and dissociation episodes. At the grocery store, because he has to stick to a list, knowing that Eddie never does that. The first grey hair, which he then took in stride when Eddie called him a “Beautiful baby silver fox.”

Even after they moved to Massachusetts in 2008 and got married. His emotions were so strong, so palpable, so rapid—he just needed a moment to debrief, take a hot shower, and then cuddle into Eddie’s side on their honeymoon bed.

Point is, Eddie knows when Steve needs his space. Knows that he cherishes that time to himself, to break down in contemplative silence, to let himself digest new information or old information or just get himself restrung.

He wishes that Steve had been taught that it’s okay to breakdown in front of his loved ones. That it’s okay to ask for help and for comfort. But it doesn’t come easy. It makes him guilty. It makes him scattered like a headless chicken.

For the mean time, Eddie sets himself down on the couch, iced tea in his grip, volume turned up slightly on the television. Steve doesn’t like it when people hear him cry. Eddie doesn’t acknowledge it either, for the sake of saving Steve from another impending breakdown. He loves Steve with all his might, he just wishes things were slightly different. He’ll do this, ever reluctant he may be.

——— Around thirty minutes later, an average amount of time for Steve, the bedroom door creaks open. Eddie quickly turns down the TV and gently places his now empty glass on the coffee table.

Small, floating from the hallway, Steve calls out, “Eddie? Can you—“ He sniffles, voice still choked up. “Can you come in here, please?”

The sight that Eddie wanders in on breaks his heart a little further. Steve’s face is still a splotchy mess, his eyes downcast and teary, waterlines pink. His hair, grayer now, is askew. There’s a definite slump to his body, where it rests on the edge of the mattress. Hands intertwined between his legs, fingers locking and pulling one another, socked feet shuffling on the rug. He got out of his day clothes, now back in his pajamas from the night before—sleep shorts, grey t-shirt.

Eddie closes the bedroom door behind him. He scoots over and kneels down on the floor. Hesitantly, he sets his palms on Steve’s knees. He rubs the inner skin, warm and soft, with his thumbs. “Whatcha need from me, baby? Ask me to do anything, I’ll do it.”

Steve sighs, breath shuddering as it leaves him. His exhale ends on a little whimpered hiccup. Instead of answering, he grabs the paper he was holding earlier and passes it over. It’s edges are wrinkled, probably from being handled roughly, maybe even scrunched. And Eddie was right, it’s something from a doctor’s tablet. Signed off with a messy scrawl:

— Instructions for handling seizures. — What to do if a seizure lasts longer than five minutes. — Steps on how to start the process of getting a service animal. — Firm directions telling the patient to not drive. — Prescription for Tegretol CR 200mg

And the diagnosis in thick, blocky, bold black text:

Epilepsy

Eddie sighs through his nose. He swallows thickly and looks back up to Steve’s defeated face. He murmurs, “I should’ve gone with you. I’m sorry, love bug.”

Shrugging, Steve mutters, “Thought I was done with the after effects of the shit back in Hawkins. I’m so—Angry? Disappointed? I don’t know how to feel.”

The paper is set back on the mattress and Eddie pulls Steve into his chest. He rubs a hand down the length of his spine, the other squeezing around his waist. “You’re allowed to feel however you want. And it’s okay to take the time to figure that out, too. This is hard stuff, baby.” He sways them from side to side. Closing his eyes in relief as Steve’s arms wrap around his back. Something that, unfortunately, doesn’t happen enough when he’s in need of comfort. His hands grip tightly to the back of Eddie’s t-shirt. Eddie gently turns his head and kisses Steve’s cooling, still ruddy cheek. “We’ll start figuring this out. Like we always do. I’ll be right here for you, alright?”

Steve nods against his shoulder. Muffled into Eddie’s neck, he asks quietly, “Can I have some more space and alone time?” He shifts to slowly release Eddie. “Just for a little while. I promise I’ll hang out. I just needed to tell you, so that it’s not harder later.”

He pries them apart gently. Arms still encasing Steve, he holds soft eye contact. “You take all the time in the world. I won’t be offended, sweetheart.” He kisses Steve’s forehead now. When he sits back on his heels, Eddie brings up a hand and runs it through Steve’s hair, fingernails dully scratching at his scalp. His smile is lopsided, the youngest it’s been since the first confession. It comes easier now, “I love you, you know that? I love you so much.”

“I love you, too,” Steve murmurs, barely returning the smile, and yet it’s there. Eddie revels in that, too.

And when Eddie goes to exit the bedroom, door almost shut behind him, Steve calls out his name one more time. Looking back, Steve swamped in their comforter, glasses folded on the bedside table, wrapped up and warm, Eddie tilts his head in careful implore. He hums in question.

“Thank you for understanding,” Steve whispers.

“Thank you for telling me, I know it was hard. If you need anything, I’ll be in the living room, okay? I’ll keep the TV low, but tell me if it’s too loud.” Steve nods, shifting under the blanket further, fully supine on the mattress. He looks more relaxed. He looks a little easier. “Have a good nap, love bug. I’ll be here when you’re ready.”

#stranger things #steddie #fanfiction #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddielovemonth #day 6 #heed the tags #I promise it'll be okay

233 notes · View notes