#so these are my first attempts don’t burn me at the stake please i was LEARNING-

[salaimoi]

“Remove your dress.”

“Oh my gosh. Can’t we at least have a decent conversation first without you trying to unclothe me like some sort of common whore?”

“I don’t do ‘normal’ conversations. Don’t act like this is something new.”

Even if you were aware of his insufferable impatience, you continued to pester him nonetheless — for the sake of being equally as insufferable.

“Can’t you try? Tell me what your trip was like, for starters.”

“Are you saying that you’d rather talk than please me? You’d rather hear about my mundane travels than to satisfy your husband’s needs? Do you not love me, wife?”

“For fucks sake, Sukuna. All I’m asking is that you share your travel experiences once in a while before you start humping me like a dog in heat.”

“Watch your mouth, woman.”

“Oh boo.” you pout, leaning back on the desk you were so comfortably sat on — as if it were yours.

“If you must know, my trip was fine. However, I feel there is only one place left I must explore now.”

“Haven’t you been all around the world already? What more could you possibly be missing?”

“You,” he growls with a sultry voice. “you’re the only part of this world that I have yet to explore.”

He leans forward on his seat, at perfect eye length with your knees — but most importantly what was in between them. His impertinent hand begins to roam up your skin; the warm touch sends a tinge across your spine as he makes his way into your inner thigh.

You tsk, unfazed by your husband’s advances.

“You’re ovulating aren’t you?”

At your failed attempt at a joke, he stares dead into your eyes — almost as if he were contemplating the possibility of uxoricide.

“Do you have a death wish, brat?”

“Only that you’ll talk to me like a proper human being for once, instead of trying to get in my pants :( Is that too much to ask for?”

“You’re the one who insists on always wearing dresses around me.”

“GASP! Have I been such a preposterous wench all along for merely choosing to wear dresses? Burn me at the stake, why won’t you!”

His eyes narrow into thin slits, almost feeling amused by your words — almost. He flicks your forehead unexpectedly, followed by his finger nail digging at the space between your brows, as if trying to intimidate you — but failing in the attempt.

“Expect your replacement with a more obedient wife to happen soon.”

The last thing Sukuna would do was replace you — probably. The second to last thing, though, would be to behead you for daring to be such a cheeky wretch in his presence.

Basking in the fact, you dig your grave just a bit further.

“My prayers to that poor woman, whoever she is.”

[madmunson]

challenge me / eddie munson oneshot

word count; 4.1k

author's note; hey guys!! sorry it's been such a long time since my last story, i've been going through a lot personally and kind of lost passion for writing. i'm glad to say i'm back though, and stories are gonna be even better now that i have a clear mind to do so. i hope you guys like this one, i've been working on it for a minute <3 i also don’t know how to add a ‘read more’ button on mobile, but i published on wattpad too!! it’ll be easier to manage pages/scrolls there, @madmunson!! enjoy!

disclaimer; unprotected sex, sexual situations. please don't read if you're sensitive to those subjects!! **italicized font is flashbacks**

For three months now, Hellfire Club had been planning the ultimate tournament. Everybody would meet at Eddie's trailer for the last big tournament of the year at three o'clock on Friday morning, "Devil's Hour", as Eddie called it. The sky outside was darker on this night than the usual nights previous, the deep night sky gently caressing the bright white stars as they shined upon your house, glistening through your window. You stared out for the hours before, imagining Eddie in several different scenarios with your heart pounding so hard it could beat outside of your chest. You did this every time the group snuck out prior to meeting up at Eddie's, while everybody else prepared or maybe slept, you daydreamed about him. Since the stakes were so high, given it was the last of the whole year, everybody was stoked. Mike had mentioned that he had spent all year preparing for it, while others were less prepared, yourself being the worst of them all. You were an experienced Dungeons and Dragons player, hence why Eddie involved you in Hellfire Club to begin with, but you had spent so long with your mind wrapped around him it almost started to affect your game. You despised yourself for it, but he was just so irresistible.

You had gym first period. So far, you hadn't made any friends in this class, and your only friend outside of school was "zombie boy" Will Byers. You decided to keep to yourself almost every day. Your gym clothes consisted of a Dungeons and Dragons shirt you hand designed, and a pair of black shorts, you always wore your hair down. Every so often, you'd get glances. People always called you "the freak", or "the punk", given the way you dressed and acted. But there was always this particular boy who loved to stare. You knew vaguely about him through Will who would occasionally mention him without particularly name dropping him, and had always daydreamed about him. He was attractive, long curly chestnut hair, deep brown eyes, and a "Hellfire Club" t-shirt. You slightly knew about the club because of Will because of how heavily involved he was with Dungeons and Dragons, but thought the design was really cool. He felt so much cooler than you, but you crushed over him. You would never admit it to yourself, and tried to shrug off his smiles he'd send here and there, but you most definitely crushed on the tall man.

On this particular day, he had been staring a little harder than he usually did, it practically burned a hole through your head. You fell in lust with this, every glance made you want him more. You tried to hold off a little longer before attempting to talk to him, as a means of edging, you suggest to yourself. You couldn't help but imagine the things he could do to you, if you gave him the chance. Finally, you got tired of edging yourself over this boy and decided to approach him. You almost spoke to him, but the bell rings and indicates the first periods' demise. Per usual, you were the first out of your class, as a way to avoid the ridicule and shit talk. The man was usually the last out, but today, he tried to make it to the front. You watched as he moved past the large group of people, tossing little "excuse me"s and "sorry"s as he stepped past. He didn't catch up to you though, as the more you thought about it the more you realized you didn't even know what you would've said to him, and the idea of even talking to him to begin with was stupid. You couldn't help but imagine yourself walking up to your dream man with nothing to say besides "uh", or "um". The idea of talking to him now felt so stupid. You were too shy and weird, he was so cool and out of reach, despite his popularity in Hawkins High not necessarily being the most keen. You felt that it might never work out the way you wanted, and decided to keep his image as a mere fantasy in your brain. You walked a little faster, and managed to pass him and the crowd he attempted to maneuver through.

"Hey! I like your shirt," The brown haired man rushes to catch up to you. He's waving at you, fighting his lungs as he catches up. You stop dead in your tracks, people walking around you as you wait for the stranger to catch up. When he finally does, he playfully punches your shoulder and continues, "make it yourself?" He questions. You continue to walk, and he follows, walking by your side as he casually chats.

"Well they don't exactly sell Dungeons and Dragons shirts, ya know how people are." You awkwardly chuckle back, slightly playing with your hair as a means to distract you from the attractive man walking adjacent to you.

"Yeah, isn't that crazy? Another excuse for the jocks and pricks to label us as freaks or satanists." He says, expressing his words with his hands as he flails them.

"Right! It's absolutely repulsive." You shake your head in response, finally feeling heard. You would hope this lasted forever, you couldn't imagine being unfortunate enough to be forced to depart with him. Now that you were talking to him, all of the negativity you held over yourself started to diminish, and you felt more comfortable. 

"Hey, I like you!" He smiles, placing his hand on your shoulder.

"I like you too," You smile back, stopping at your locker then leaning against it. He steps directly in front of you and smirks ever so slightly.

"So I take it you play?"

"Ever since Will introduced me to it when we were kids."

"No way you're on the same skill level as Byers. That kid nearly takes my ass out every single time, as much as I'd hate to say that. Kid's cocky, got some fight to him."

"That's Will Byers for you!" You say with a smile, "but to be honest with you, I just may be better than Byers."

"No way!"

"Oh, yes way!" You nod with certainty. You were just joking though, nobody could outsmart Will when it came to D&D. You lost to him every single time. 

"I wonder if you have as much passion as Byers though?" He states, more like a question. 

"Oh yeah, so much passion. I'm good at what I do. Maybe I can show you sometime." You smirk. You couldn't help yourself, and let the naughty thoughts you had been thinking about him this whole time slip past the tip of your tongue and spew out past your lips. 

"I would love that," he smirks back, fraying his eyebrows as if he didn't expect such a response from you. Immediately you felt your heart drop as he reciprocated the same energy. After a moment of staring at you, the man speaks back up. "Want to join my club? Hellfire Club, we have tournaments and we're pretty badass, if I do say so myself." His whole demeanor paused as he awaited for a response. Your heart pounded outside of your chest. You had never felt this way before, it was like love at first sight. You couldn't even lie to yourself, you wanted him so bad.

"Yes, I'd love to,"

"Great, I'll see you Friday night!" He grabs your hand, and turns it over, making your palm visible. He pulls out a permanent marker and writes an address on your palm.

"See ya then?" He smiles, walking backwards as he steps away from you.

"For sure, wouldn't miss it." You blush in response. You stood paused at your locker for a few more moments, daydreaming about him before walking to class. That whole class period the only thing you could think about was him, and how massive your crush for him truly was despite not knowing him and only holding one conversation with him.

The clock finally struck 3 o'clock and you had just managed to sneak out, meaning you'd be fashionably late to Eddie's. You knew it would result in Eddie becoming absolutely outraged. Since you always had the biggest crush on him, disappointing him was devastating, but you had to wait until your parents went to sleep and that was a whole deal. Your family were a group of night owls, and didn't sleep until three o'clock on the usual night, something about "spending more time with family".

You hurried and biked as quick as your legs could take you, picking up your pace as you rushed down your street to make it to Eddie's within a reasonable time. Your efforts failed, and after five minutes of consistent pedaling, your legs ended up going much slower than you had wanted. You made it to Eddie's by fifteen after, and you dreaded the response.

"Well, well, look who decided to show!" Eddie shouts before you are even able to walk up to the door. The door pops open, and he comes out, resting on the door frame as he stared at you. He was so unbelievably attractive it made your heart spin.

"I'm-I'm sorry Eddie, I had to wait for my parents to go to sleep and that was this whole thing, but-"

"But what?" He asks, still resting on the door frame but now with his arm extended to you. He was always so cinematic and animated with his responses.

"But I'm here now," you sigh.

"You're right doll, my bad. This is only the biggest tournament of the entire year and you show up fifteen after, but you're good, you're here now!" He sarcastically says. He dramatically walks back inside, letting the door slam behind him on his way back in. You stood for a moment, waiting for his next response, until you hear a loud "Well? Are you coming?" shout from the inside coming from the male's throat. You hurry inside, letting the door slam behind you as well. The group was sat around Eddie's table already, prepared for the most and all paying attention to you as you walked in.

"Sorry I'm late guys, I-"

"She was waiting for her parents to go to sleep," he sighs, plopping down into his special chair. He waves his arm for you to come sit, and you just nod.

"Welcome to our first tournament, Y/N!" He announces, everybody drum rolling on the table as he does so. "Our newest addition to Hellfire Club, and truly a doll, isn't she?" He waves his hand up, pointing all of his fingers forward with his palm exposed as he bows.

"Thank you, thank you!" You bow back. The team introduces you to Hellfire's rules, and you agree with a full heart. They chat about the next tournament, and begin setting up, getting your first game with the team started almost immediately.

The game goes as normal, Eddie throwing his apparent usual moves and everybody following with attacks back. He started off strong, barely starting at his weakest choices before diving in. He wanted a rough game, something that would truly test you. You found this so attractive, even if he had no idea. Without warning, he begins picking each individual member off with every draw, killing players left and right as he chooses. The room filled with intensity, people shouting as they died, acting out each individual death to the group.

"Fuck we're losing!" Dustin shouts, slamming on the table. "He's killing everybody, damn it! Come on! We've got to do something!" He continues. You smile, and look at Will. Will was a master player, and one of the only members left alongside you, Mike and Dustin.

"You're gonna do it?" He smiles. You nod. You both knew you had the ultimate fight back, and were so excited to throw it.

"Oh Y/N, you must be new here. Challenging me?! I don't like to be challenged." He smirks, waiting for your play.

"I most certainly am new, but I'm gonna kick your ass!"

"Hey Y/N!" Will says.

"Hey Will, how's it hangin?"

"Oh you know, the usual. You?"

"The demogorgon is tired of your bantering!" Eddie shouts, slamming his demogorgon piece on the hardwood table ahead of you guys.

"Shit, starting out strong, are we?" You say, not thinking before the words piled out of your mouth like vomit. You immediately smacked your mouth with your palm out of shock, not being able to believe you had just said that out loud to him. He stares at you a little puzzled, twisting his head at you to indicate his confusion.

"I'm sorry, strong? Is this too strong for you, Y/N?"

"Oh quit with the teasing, there's people around." You joke. He smirks at you, and chuckles to himself a bit.

"Darling, you haven't seen a Munson tease yet." He says, holding eye contact with you. "Now, answer my question, is this too much for you?"

"Not at all,"

"That's kind of what I thought,"

The game went on as usual, with Dustin's typical freaking out at every stronger opponent and tossing around descriptive language as he did so. Erica fought hard, as well as Will who carried the battle per usual, winning Eddie's approval as the hardest fighting team. Nancy and Robin were the audience (though you practically had to pay them for their attendance), sitting close together as they paid attention to each move. The game was difficult for sure, Eddie was relentless, but ultimately it lead in your team's success. He couldn't stop glancing over at you throughout the whole game, remaining eye contact through several points. You couldn't lie to yourself, it turned you on so much.

"Alright everybody, amazing game per usual," Eddie says as everybody starts to exit, yawns escaping their mouths as they proceed out the door. "Aside from Y/N. I believe we're due for a talk." He says animatedly. You swallow harshly, but turn around. 

"Oh get a room, you two!" Dustin joked in response.

"Wrap it!" Mike laughed in return.

"Clearly the two of you have never had a famous Munson talk. Good luck Y/N!" Will shouted as he walked out. They continued to laugh with each other and poke fun at the two of you as they exited, laughing harder than you had ever seen them laugh as they walked away, chanting nursery rhymes that involved the two of you and a tree, and a whole bunch of spelling. You had tried so hard to escape before he seen you leave. As soon as everybody exited, he closed the door, standing over you as he locked the door that was directly behind you.

"Good game back there huh?" He smiles. You stayed back to help him clean up, every chance you got with him was for the better. You smiled back at him, nodding gently as you picked up the pieces and carefully placed them back in the box.

"You know, challenging me was a bold move."

"Totally bold, but I'm glad I did it!"

"Yeah, fair point!" He chuckles.

"Totally kicked your ass!" You laugh. 

"You don't even know what you've got yourself involved in, do you?" He questions, putting the D&D box on the table as he faces away from you. "I just think it's funny, you know?"

"What are you going to do?" You say with a bratty tone.

"Just wait. Go ahead and do it again."

"Maybe I will." 

"What um- what did you want to talk about?" You swallow, taking in the big gulp that sat on your throat. You didn't know what to do, other than to just stand there and wait for him to respond. But he held eye contact, still stood over you and looking directly down at you. His eyes glistened with lust. He stood silent for a moment, just watching you tremble.

"The fact that you challenged me back there," he says, "again, after last time, I want to know what that was all about." He walks away from you, his back facing you as he finishes his sentence. You watched as his Hellfire shirt hugged every right muscle on his back, visible through the pale white. Your eyes traveled to his hands, veins piercing his skin as he relaxed his hand and rings sparkling on each finger. You then glanced your vision to his curly chestnut hair, and it's soft appearance. You were trying so hard to contain yourself, but it was becoming more impossible by the second. You must've not had responded for a long time, as he turned around quickly and says, "huh?" ever so smoothly. Now all you could think about was all the sweet things that same voice could be telling you as he was deep inside you, rearranging your insides as he thrusted. You simply couldn't help yourself. "I asked you a question," he says for a final time.

"I'm-I'm so sorry, I- I-" You stutter.

"This again, huh?" He smirks, walking over you. "I'm gonna tell you what I think is going on here, and you can tell me if I'm wrong, 'kay?" You frantically nod, listening to his every word as he responds. He nods, and smirks once more, before starting back up. "You have a crush on me, it's so obvious," he says. He moves back to his original stance, standing over you as he continued. "Late at night, you think about me and think about what I could do to you, right?" You nod, unable to speak for him. "Right. So now you come here, and challenge me, like I won't just show you what I will do to you? You should've known better. That's unsafe, baby. You're playing with fire."

"Maybe I want to play with fire," You finally speak.

"Oh, so she speaks!" He says excitedly, putting his thumb over your mouth. "Tell me how much you think about me,"

"Yes Eddie," you say. He seemed to be taken aback by it, but ultimately turned on as he nods and steps away. "All the time," you start. At this point, your mouth was producing the words before you had time to ponder on the words, and you couldn't care less. "Every single night,"

"What do you do when you think about me?" He picks you up, and places you on the same table you had just played the game on. You were shocked, but more than into it. You were so turned on, you were unable to hold yourself back anymore.

"I put my hand down my pants, and then down my panties," you start. He stares at you with lust, using his fingertip to trace over the seems of your clothes, almost indicating he wanted to take them off without taking them off just yet. He takes lifts you up on his kitchen table as he watches you continue. "And I finger myself. I close my eyes and play it out in my mind, sometimes when I'm home alone I'll even shout your name as I finish." You finished.

"Tell me more," he growls, taking off your shirt to expose your almost bare chest. You lightly moan at his swift motion, unable to process the reality of the situation.

"I think about you so much it makes me ache, Eddie." You say. He places his hand over your covered center as he listens. He strokes your covered breast with one hand, and plays with your masked center as a means of teasing you. You moan a little for him, letting him know how good it feels without speaking it.

"Tell me more," he demands, taking off your bra and underwear, traveling down. His lips meet your center, lightly licking along the folds before softly attacking your clit. You breathlessly moan for him, begging him to continue.

"I can't stop thinking about you," you say, pausing to moan before entirely forgetting your thoughts.

"Good girl. Focus on how good this feels." He puts his jaw into the movements, lightly sucking and licking upon your clit as he continues with circular patterns. He picks up his motions, going faster and faster by the second, before inserting his two fingers inside you. He curls his fingertips, caressing your right spots for several long moments. You had never felt anything so powerful before, it felt enlightening and numbing in the best way possible. You really allowed yourself to let go, gripping his hair with one hand and the other gripping up on your left breast. You couldn't contain yourself anymore, it absolutely overcame you.

The walls captivated your moans and echoed them throughout the entire trailer, your passionate language slipping through the drywall in every room. He didn't stop there, and proceeded to go faster. You begged him to continue, the movements of his jaw causing you to become unhinged. You arched your back as he continued, moaning his name in the shadows of his home.

The pressure on your shoulders began to intensify, traveling to your core and spreading throughout your body as the heat your center built became more unbearable. You felt a tingling sensation throughout your whole body, gripping on his hair and begging him for more. You were so close to finishing you could feel it on the tip of your tongue, cold sweats breaking through your entire body. You felt so feral you couldn't control it anymore, your body moving frantically without any hesitation on the cold table as you became more edged. Finally, all the pressure released, leaving your legs shaking as you finish on his mouth and fingers. Your body loses control, and you feel as your whole body shivers and quakes beneath your skin. You let out one final moan, falling back on the table as you continue to shake.

"Fuck baby!" You practically shout as you lie breathless on the table.

"Feel good?" He asks, holding your legs as a means to try and control the shaking. You nod frantically, and smirk back at him.

"Yes," you manage to let out, your lungs barely holding onto what air they could manage to grasp in that moment.

"Good, because I'm not done." He stands up, placing himself at your entrance before slowly entering. He slowly starts, his thrusts paced slow and steady at first. He leans down and begins kissing your breasts once more, licking around your nipples as he firmly holds it. His hand travels up to your neck, and he starts to go faster. You took every inch of him, gasping and moaning at the size of his length above you. You never expected him to be that huge, and it took you aback briefly.

"Thank you," you moan, staring into his eyes. He smiled down at you, his eyes traveling over the chills that ran across your body.

"You're welcome," he whispers in your ear as he thrusts. His strokes were sharp and slow, he aimed for your weakest spots as he continued. You moaned as his length shook the insides of your core. "That's my girl."

"Fuck!" You shout, "Faster!" He listens, picking up his pace and causing that same feeling to build up. He places his thumb over your clit as he thrusts, moving his thumb in circular motions as he proceeds. You continue to beg for him, your body ached for him. Moments pass, loud vibrations of skin smacking shaking the walls of the small trailer. Your body was consumed with heat, pressure building above your shoulders. You felt your head spinning, your body begins to start shaking. Finally, all the pressure released, leaving your legs shaking as you finish on his mouth and fingers. Your body loses control once more as the pressure releases, and you finish below him. You shake even worse than you had before, your lungs practically collapsing as they  attempted to catch up with the familiar feeling.

"Good girl," he hisses. He continues with his fast motions, and soon after you, finishes inside of the condom he had provided. His legs begin to quiver as he steps back, both of your balances deteriorating by the second.

"Holy shit that was so good," you chuckle awkwardly.

"You're so cute," he tosses his clothes to you and walks to his bedroom briefly with a new pair. You felt elated that he gave you his clothes.

"You should challenge me more ya know," he smiles. You agree and practically jump into his clothes. The two of you sit in his bedroom floor struggling to catch up with your breaths.

[cravencereal]

NSFW BELOW THE CUT

Just a little something I did for my own amusement because let’s be honest, Cait pre-benign intervention is most likely a horny, angry, depressed woman that doesn’t know how to deal with emotions other than sex, booze, and physco. I made Sole a bit of a bottom but as gender neutral as possible, so anyone can read it! It doesn’t get all the way to smut, but damn does it get close. If you want a continuation that goes into a little more detail per-se, just lmk ;)

Also this is my first real attempt at nsfw so like… don’t burn me at the stake if it’s bad. <3

GN!Sole x Cait (pre-Benign Intervention)

Cait and Sole were sitting on the floor of an abandoned warehouse. They had cleared the place out and decided to rest for a bit. The smell of dust and blood was stinging Sole’s nostrils, Super Mutants have such a strong smell of death it’s ridiculous, they thought as they pulled out their gun and inspected it. Sole looked up at Cait, watching her open a beer before looking back down at their gun. “We’re not gonna go anywhere else tonight, so you might as well get comfy.” Sole spoke into the air.

Cait hummed in acknowledgement, taking a swig of her beer. She offered a drink to Sole but they turn it down, a hit to the head they had taken earlier in the day finally catching up to them making their head spin. “Y’sure? Might make that headache of yours better.” Sole declines once again and Cait shrugs her shoulders, taking another drink.

Sole could hear the beer slosh in the bottle as Cait pulled it away from her lips, the sound of glass meeting concrete echoed as she put the bottle down. It was quiet for a moment before Cait shuffled across the floor, the utility belt Sole had got for her in Bunker Hill scraping against the floor. Sole pulled their attention from cleaning their gun to whatever Cait was doing, but when they looked up their eyes met, barely even a foot apart from each other. Cait’s eyelids were hooded and a smirk Sole knew all too well spread across her face.

“No.”

Cait’s smirk dropped into a frown and her eyebrows furrowed, making Sole blow a sharp breath of air out their nose in amusement. Sole returns her attention back to cleaning their gun and Cait sulks back to her backpack, placing her head on the back part of it. She sharply turned to her side and groaned, letting out a bratty, childlike grumble, “Fuck you.”

“I’m sure you want to.”

The Next Day, Diamond City

While Cait was getting checked over at Dr. Sun’s, Sole lay on the couch at Home Plate. It’d been ages since they had stayed here, most of their time in Diamond City either being spent at the Wright’s or in the Valentine Agency. They had promised Piper they’d stop by for a drink some time this afternoon when they passed by, so they decided to spend what little downtime they had to get comfortable and get some shut eye.

SLAM!

“Wake yer ass up Sole, I’m not drinkin’ alone.”

“You’re grown Cait, you can drink alone,” Sole grumbled, keeping their eyes closed. Cait flipped the switch on the wall and turned on the bright fluorescent lights above them. Sole’s eyebrows furrowed and they threw their forearm over their eyes, “-Just let me be for 30 minutes please.”

A sly smile came across Cait’s face, “Have a drink wit’ me, an’ I might consider it.”

Sole is quiet for a beat before groaning and falling into her bribery. They push themself off the couch and make their way over to a shelf of ‘collectibles’ they’d made over the past year. Brands of whiskey, wine, and tequila donned the wooden shelves. Almost every bottle was full and in mint condition, the exception being the whiskey bottles which they heavily favored in their pick of poison.

“And you call yerself a drinker,” Cait chuckles, slapping her hand hard on Sole’s back, kind of like a divorced dad in his late forties would. “Nothin’ compared to what I’d have polished if I were you.”

“These are far and few between Cait, and those Bobrov’s are overcharging for their drinks, so I found a happy medium.” Sole shrugs and grabs glasses off the top shelf. Cait lets out a ‘humph’ and grabs a bottle of whiskey with the faded label reading ‘Crown Royale’ before mumbling, “How you’ve managed to make drinkin’ nerdy, I’ll never know.”

They sit down on the couch, the heavy glass bottle of Crown in Cait’s hand and two glasses in Sole’s. Sole places the glasses on the table and grabs the cigar box from the lower shelf on the table. “I dunno how you smoke those things. Gives me a headache.” Sole shrugs at Cait’s comment and lights the cigar, taking a long drag from it and blowing out a cloud of smoke. “And I don’t know how you drink 24 hours if the day and still function; but hey, we all have our niches, don’t we doll?” Cait lets out a grunt at Sole’s snarky remark and pours their drinks, filling her cup only slightly more than her counterpart, which is to be expected at this point.

Cait wraps her hand around her drink, already starting to take it to the head. “Sip on it, Cait, we’ve still got errands to run.” She ignores Sole’s warning, flipping them off as she finishes her glass, letting out a sigh of relief once she’s swallowed the liquor. She puts down the glass with a hefty sounding ‘thunk’ of the wood meeting the thick glass.

“Lucky for you, I’m a functioning drunk.”

Sole scoffs and rolls their eyes, “Functioning my ass! I’ve carried you out of the Dugout every time we’ve been there.” Sole’s eyes locked onto Cait’s when she started to move closer. Cait’s breath hitting their face; it was warm and smelled of the whiskey she’d just downed.

“If you didn’t like my sweet arse, you woulda left me there to rot by now.” Closer, closer, closer. By this point, Sole could tell you the pattern of the specks of brown in her green eyes and pat connect the dots with the freckles that covered her face.

“No, I’d just have to pay for a room if I left you there. Dugout policy.” They shot back quickly. Cait snickered at Sole’s hasty response and continued to move closer.

She was playing a game Sole always lost: ‘How Far Can I Push My Flirtation Before You Pounce Me?’ She especially played this game whenever either of them were drinking. Cait knew how to push Sole’s buttons in a way that always put one of them pressed against a wall and moaning each other’s name.

“I suggest you move back before something happens.” Sole takes a drag from their cigar before turning back to face Cait. She cocked her left eyebrow, the same sly, fox-like smirk as before painted across her face.

“Oh really? Is this 'somethin’' similar to what happened in Goodneighbor? Or is it closer to the police station? Either way I’m willing to try me luck.” She touched her nose to Sole’s, her eyelids hooded yet still maintaining heated eye contact with them.

“And I’d be willin’ to bet you’d want it too.”

Sole leaned in and parted their lips, their fingers moving to lightly grip Cait’s chin and pull her face closer to theirs. Their left hand slid over the curve that separated her hips from her ribs, eliciting a soft sigh from Cait. Sole could feel her body push further into theirs, her own hands starting to slide against and up their outer thigh, gripping the waistband of Sole’s pants once she got to it. Their lips brushed against each other, but before Cait’s lips could lock with her lover’s, Sole let out the puff of smoke they had been holding in, the grayish smoke covering Cait’s face and flooding into her mouth.

Barely able to get out her words over her coughing she growled, “You’re- cough -such a bastard!” Sole falls back onto the arm of the couch and starts to crack up. They dropped their cigar onto the ashtray on the end table, saving it for later. They continued to laugh after Cait’s coughing fit was over, but she stayed uncharacteristically quiet. They expected at least a snarky remark at my laughing; but there was nothing.

Starting to sit back up, they stop their laughter and start an apology, “Cait, I didn’t mean to make you upset. I was just messin’ with you-”

Cait turned to face Sole; and before they knew what was happening, Cait’s hands, body, and lips were all over Sole. Their eyes went wide, completely taken aback from what was happening. Cait had pushed Sole’s shoulders back onto the arm of the couch roughly. It was like she couldn’t wait to be close to Sole.

Cait’s left hand made its way up Sole’s shirt and against their stomach, her calloused palm causing goosebumps to form on their skin. Her right hand was unbuckling their belt, pulling harshly on the leather before getting it off and starting on Sole’s jeans button and zipper.

Her lips were locked onto Sole’s jawline, sucking harshly on the skin, occasionally tugging at it with her front teeth; just enough to hear Sole’s breath hitch and feel their body melt further into the couch. Their head was trying to catch up with what was happening. Cait and Sole had definitely done this before, they (mostly Cait) were constantly making passes at each other, most of the time leading to quick and hot sex in semi-safe places. Didn’t matter where or when, if Cait wanted Sole, she got them. Sole didn’t mind, really; it was a nice release and Cait was a very attractive woman, but usually there was at least some type of foreplay, or hell even a warning.

Cait’s lips left their neck and met Sole’s lips, cutting them off from saying anything. She had finally got their pants unbuttoned and was feverishly pulling them down. She pulled away for a moment, Sole’s hand moving on its own and tangling in her messy, red hair in a faint attempt to pull her back down to their kiss. She let their hand pull her back in, but instead leaned down to their ear, kissing the top of it. Her warm ragged breath hitting the cold cartilage made Sole’s face heat up more than it already had. The sound of her breathing was hard and desperate; it tickled Sole’s ear, goosebumps forming on their neck.

Cait moved her legs to wrap around Sole’s waist, grinding against their hips. They could feel how hot her sex was, and it was only turning them on more than they already were. She made her way agonizingly slow up and down their neck, kissing and biting on the skin. Sole’s hand tangled in her hair and gave it a firm tug, making her moan into their skin, sending shivers down their back. Sole let their other hand find her hip, encouraging her hips to rock against their waist, loving the white hot flares of pleasure it was sending down their stomach.

Sole let a lazy smile grow on their lips and let out a soft mumble, “Guess this means you forgive me then?” Cait just let out a low chuckle that vibrated against her lips that abused Sole’s neck and continued her work. Sole shuddered before somewhat coming back to their senses. Their eyes roamed down Cait’s body, watching her hips ride back and forth in a needy, erratic motion. Her moans were getting louder the longer they went on, and when Sole started to rock in sync with her, Cait’s voice broke into a high pitched mewl that drove Sole crazy. Their voice hoarse and quiet, a needy request fell past their lips.

“Fuck, I need you, Cait.”

Sole unbuckled Cait’s pants, pulling them down to her knees and letting her kick them to the floor. Barely even spending a moment apart, they were back together, lips moving fast and hard against each other. Their tongues met and danced with one another, their saliva mixing along with the moans they traded into the others mouth. Cait had started grinding her hips down on Sole again, this time pulling up their shirt to put her thinly covered sex against their skin. Sole could feel Cait all over her. Sole could feel how those lovely lips below her waist glided across their stomach; the way they slightly parted when Cait’s hips moved forward and how their wet skin got cold from the air that hit it when Cait wasn’t atop it. Sole needed Cait, and Cait needed Sole. Bad.

Their moans and the slight squeaking of the couch was what filled the room; Cait picking up in volume as she rocked harder and faster into Sole’s hips. Sole pulled harder on Cait’s hair, which in-turn made Cait suck hard on Sole’s tongue. She would occasionally pull back while biting their lip, letting it pop back into place before diving back into the taste she yearned for. The pair’s lips were swollen and sore from the biting and tugging the other would do to entice the other.

Making her way from her lover’s neck and to their ear, her left hand found the soft skin of their neck and rested it there, her thumb rubbing back and forth on the purple-ish marks she had made. Once Cait made it back to her original position on Sole’s ear, she bit down hard and let the tip of her tongue dance on the tip of it. Her left hand started playing with the band of their underwear; her fingers dipping just low enough to glide against the crevice of their hip bone. Cait’s tongue, making sure to let her ragged, breathy moans sound in her ear. Sole was barely keeping it together at this point; the wet, lewd sounds entering their ear drums at an alarming rate, those fingers moving tantalizingly slow down their hips were causing them to short circuit, and dear god that moan of hers; everything about Cait made Sole go insane in the best way possible.

Cait gave a hard squeeze against Sole’s neck, making their breath hitch in their throat, a submissive whimper following. A wicked smile paints on Cait’s face, lustful eyes meeting Sole’s needy orbs. Another flare lit up in Sole’s stomach, this time shooting down to their legs.

Cait wanted Sole to know what she had been waiting for since last night, but was going to tease her just as she did before. “You shouldn’t have done that, lover,” she murmured, before placing a soft, almost unnoticeable kiss on the tragus of their ear, pulling down their underwear and placing wet, slow kisses on her way down their body. Cait stopped right above their navel, kissing it and making Sole’s hips arch in selfish need, “Cuz’ yer in for a long ride.”

Sole’ll just stop by Piper’s tomorrow.

Bonus:

One foot in front of the other, Sole walked to Piper’s door and raised their hand to knock on the metal, nervous smile on their face. The handle turned and the door flew open, an angry Piper standing behind it.

“I waited all afternoon for you to show up and you just-“ Piper cut herself off, her eyes widening when she saw Sole’s neck.

“Did a Yao Gaui chew on your neck last night?”

[meltyphos]

vamp x vamp hunter

HI this is a little drabble with my ocs as a vampire and vampire hunter so ERR yeah enjoy or wtv..!! this is rushed so please do not yell in my face:(( i will finish this soon trust

content: mentions of blood, dehumanization, idk what else LOL

The metallic scent of blood forces me awake, my eyes watering from the aching sensation in my fangs as the bloody stench strengthens and burns my nostrils. I rose to my knees, wiping off the snow sticking to the side of my face, and swiftly crawled my way through the cold surface, following the smell as hunger pains my body with every move I make. 

So, so hungry.

I scan my surroundings, slowly hunting for any sign of life for me to feed on. My nails claw through the fragile, white mush, which sends chills up my fingers. I shiver with hunger once I spot a figure in the distance, and push myself up to my feet just to sprint and pounce onto the unsuspecting man ahead. I crawl on top of his rigid body and bare my teeth, an animalistic growl cutting through my throat. The man under me struggles to get through my grip, but my nails dig into his soft skin, resulting in a guttural whine escaping his mouth. I lower my head down to his neck, scraping the sensitive skin with my fangs. Before they could puncture through and feed, the man grabs my arms and pushes me to the ground, his knees pressing down on my thighs painfully. I look down to see a stake pressing against my chest.

A vampire hunter.

“What do you think you’re doing, leech?” The man grumbled, his voice was shaken, but somehow soft, sweat trickled down his face. When I don’t respond, he digs the stake deeper into my chest, and I let out a pained whine while the sharp object threatens to break my skin and draw blood.

I look up at him curiously, taking in his features before speaking. Our faces were so close, I could feel his breath on my face and smell his blood. I resisted the urge to bite him right there. I did not speak at first, but fear overcame me at the thought that the hunter would kill me if I chose not to respond.

“I’m… trying to eat.” My voice sounds ragged and rough from my years of isolation and silence. Before the man could respond, I wrapped my hands around the cold fingers that were clutching onto the stake, which was piercing my skin with every breath I took. “Please, don’t kill me.” I plead.

His brow arched in confusion, and smiled as if I had said something amusing. He lowers his head, inches away from mine, and chuckles. “Don’t kill you? You were just trying to kill me. I don’t find that fair.” 

Well, he did have a point. “But I was hungry…” My voice cut through in an angry tone, nearly about to crack and expose how desperate I was. My grip on the hunter's hand increased so much, I was practically squeezing him. “…and you are about to kill me now, anyway. So we’re fair now.” I added after a moment of silence. He sighed and grabbed my hand with his free one, carefully undoing my tight grip on the stake. I flinched at his touch— I haven’t interacted with someone in decades— it scared me how vulnerable I had made myself by reacting to his cold fingers curling around mine, the thought of it made my skin tingle. 

He stared at me with a strange expression on his pale face, studying my every breath. After a painful, silent minute of continuous staring, he sighed. “Well, you don’t seem…that dangerous, I guess.” I narrowed my eyes at him, furrowing my brows in confusion. “Um, thank you?” I muttered, keeping my eyes away from his. 

“That wasn’t a compliment, leech.” He pushed himself off my body and looked down at me, clutching the stake in his hand, a subtle threat to not fuck up. I bit my lower lip in an attempt to subside my desire for blood as I stared up at him, the wet snow seeping into my coat, freezing my back. 

[demonslayedher]

How you doing Buri Senpai !!

Personal question…. How do you manage to get out of your art/writing block/ burnout ? You are an incredible artist and writer and i wish to be like you someday❤️

(///￣ ￣///) Thank you, Anon. Like most other people who do any sort of creative work, I am constantly seeking validation. I don’t think that ever goes away. That is why I’ll give you the truth, I get a lot of happy chemicals from making KnY fanwork, at the expense of any other creative work I could be doing.

There’s lots and lots of discussion out there on what leads to creative burnout and how perfectionism kills success by preventing someone from even starting a project, and anyone who has ever worked hard on something only to feel it met with a disappointing response can tell you about the heartbreak of feeling like none of your efforts are worth anything. It’s very easy to say “write for you, draw what you want, fandom should be fun” but we all know that sometimes it’s not. That’s the best advice I think is out there, though, so I’m just going to expand a bit.

…I tried, but my answers all kept getting rambly. ლ(¯ロ¯"ლ)

The truth is that KnY is escapism for me and that is why I create so much of it!! For as long as I’m busy with this, and getting dopamine from making fanwork, my projects I’m willing to tell people about in real life are going to continue to get ignored! O ho ho! I fear failure!! I know they won’t be perfect and that is why I do not wish to create them in the first place! I do not wish to be judged as imperfect!!! Ohhh, ho ho ho ho! O-o-o-o-hhhhhh ho ho ho ho!

Ah. But that’s probably a big reason why I create so much KnY content: the stakes are lower than other things I might wish to accomplish. Since I don’t have any high expectations of my art anymore I can allow myself to relax with it and accept its wonkiness as part of it, if anything, that’s in the spirit of the original manga, right? Also, I’m practiced enough with my drawing that even though I don’t know proper drawing technique, I can intuitively go about bringing a lot of things from my head to paper, so that makes it something I do to relax.

While I have given myself permission to be lazy with art for the sake of enjoying it, I do still harbor the same childhood dream of getting published, even though my understanding of that now comes with vague knowledge of all the burn-outable activities that come with (self-promotion, blaaaaargh, please just let me live under a rock). Sometimes, when I realize just how high my KnY-related word count is, I get aggravated with myself for not having poured that power into my own original projects. But failure would feel so much higher with those, so I stick to what I know I can accomplish, as I lo-o-o-ve the feeling of accomplishing things.

But…

Well…

One of the best times I got that feeling was was when I sat down and actually wrote a few manga short stories, beginning to end, with no idea what I was doing. All it really took was a kick in the pants from someone holding me accountable. I had 55 books printed to basically give away to people. I had them all stacked up when they arrived and was stunned at how slim the spines were. All those hours, poured into that small a result, something that could be consumed and forgotten so easily?

But then again, I had something. Something complete, so that if the topic of OCs ever came up, I hand something to hand to someone, to say, “this.”

It was sometime after that when I crushed my first NaNoWriMo attempt by a long-shot (50,000 words? Pfffhaahahaha, when I’m prepared and have my schedule cleared for it, that’s nothing!), and even though that first novel objectively was terrible, it broke me in and made me realize that I could do it. I’ve written three more full drafts of other stories since then, though I was so frustrated with the overhaul second draft of one of them that I quit on it and then, uh, started watching KnY. Teh heh…

But I guess that really is the drive. To have something I can give to someone to say, “This. I have put my thoughts and feelings to form. It’s a form I can share now.” Sure, it’s really nice to imagine having a fandom following or striking it big with a hit or something, but it would never be enough validation, and that sounds like a sure way to get burnt out.

So even in fandom, even when I get other ideas of what might be fun (or just popular?) blog content, at some level I just want to say “I got this idea, I gave it form, please appreciate it.” And, as is the key to most forms of happiness, I’m really, really grateful for the people who bother to read my wordy work, who leave their thoughts, and who take my ideas and run with them and make new ideas from them. My fandom content isn’t made specifically for my own pleasure, I really, really do get joy out of other people finding joy in it, and satisfaction in knowing I put it into a form that can be enjoyed instead of just having it in my own head. It's like my relaxed attitude toward my drawing, though. In order to keep my fandom fun, I keep my expectations in check so that I can still relax and have fun with it. I don't get involved with things that require effort I don't feel like putting in, I don't hold myself responsible for giving anyone else fandom validation either, it's not a give and take economy of praise. When I want to praise you I will dump it on you and you will know it's from the heart. Keeping things relaxed requires boundaries and embracing one's own laziness, so that you can focus on what you really care about.

But the not-as-fun projects that come with high stakes, the ones that keep calling me… they’re out there, and I need to polish my rough areas to answer the call, someday.

I just fear what becoming my best self will entail.

[rei-caldombra]

Jujutsu Kaisen Shibuya arc- Worker Abuse and Shonen BS. 

There will be direct story spoilers from this arc. This post is also more negative and heated than I usually post. 

JJK’s Shibuya arc is individual moments of awesome surrounded by tons of stuff I think is disappointing or frustrating. It's decent content as a whole but I wouldn't call it great for me. If this didn’t have very good animation for the most part, I would think it's even worse. And sadly, even that positive has been brought down by this anime being a product of horrible working conditions.

Everyone can have their own opinion about if the product should be judged based on the people behind it, and what constitutes abuse, and if they even care what goes on behind the scenes. but for me it matters. I care about how the product came about and what happens behind the scenes. I care that animators are being worked to the point of mental breakdowns and suicidal thoughts. I don’t care how good the product is, horribly exploiting your workers is not ok. For just a second forget about consuming products and have some sympathy for other human beings. There is no product easier to skip out on than a single anime, and skipping out on a studio as a whole isn’t that much harder. The peak of privilege is trying to act like it'll hurt you to skip out on a singular anime when there are 50+ that air every season and plenty of other forms of entertainment. If this idea offends you, please grow up. Stick to the manga and watch other shows where the abuse isn’t as rampant and tangible. Japanese animation studios as a whole need to be better, but this is clearly a step above the rest. I’m thankful many workers at Mappa had the bravery to talk about their situation. Workers publicly airing their grievances is much less common in Japan than in many other parts of the world. I'm sure it was difficult. 

I wish we could see the world line where the animators were happy while working on this and had the time and energy to make it even better than what we got, like many of them desired to. I wish I could have continued watching this season without my enjoyment being tainted by what's going on behind the scenes. That world could exist. But Mappa has poor production schedules and abusive practices instead. 

This is the most important thing I wanted to talk about. Below I do have some more thoughts just about the content itself. Even if the production issues weren’t a thing, I still wouldn’t be loving this arc.

Let's bring up something positive. Nanami’s death scene was fantastic, as was his beatdown of Haruta (Gotta mention how hilarious the reactions to that episode were across social media). Everything with Nanami this arc is great. Beautiful and fitting send off to the character. I wouldn't change anything.

But overall, I can’t say it lives up to the hype people set up, just focusing on the content. Lots of death baiting and attempts at shock value. It spends the first half or so having characters not die from things they really seem like they should have. I went into it expecting serious stakes and tension. That gets damaged by stuff like Ijichi surviving getting stabbed multiple times, having his head slam into metal, then being left to bleed. Then later they decide they’ll go and kill a bunch of characters. To me this is very poorly distributed. How powerful characters are also can feel inconsistent and convenient. We see how ridiculously strong Jogo is in his fight against Sukuna. But if he’s that strong then it’s hard to understand how torching severely damaged and fatigued Maki and Nanami point blank did not manage to kill either of them. I don’t buy it. It doesn't feel consistent. Yes, they have cursed energy and are decently strong but with everything they just went through I don’t buy that Jogo held back so much for no good reason that they survived his direct attack. We saw in the first season that he can burn a normal person to death in seconds. It just feels inconsistent and convenient. Who can survive what and how strong people are feels like it changes to fit whatever they want to happen. In a series that has in universe power scaling and puts importance on people getting stronger, I want their power to be consistent and feel earned. Yuji suddenly being able to do black flashes back-to-back doesn’t feel earned to me. It feels like it kinda just happened because Yuji needed something new for the next stage of the fight to not immediately lose to awakened Mahito. Characters droning on and on during fights, usually saying what's very clearly happening on screen, etc. It's doing the stereotypical Shonen stuff I don't like.

The removal of Gojo did add tension and I think overall was a good idea for the story. But knowing now that he continues to be sealed even after this arch’s conclusion is a letdown. Simply because he is a fun and interesting character. Not only did we lose my favorite character in Nanami, but we largely lost Gojo too. The loss of his presence is strongly felt. Nanami and Gojo together also had a good dynamic, both in terms of how they bounced off each other and how they educated Yuji and the others differently as adult figures. This dynamic being permanently lost is also a letdown. I can understand moving on from that, but I will miss it, even if it’s potential was used up. I do not think Nanami’s loss is truly negative, as he was a great character while he was here, left his mark, and went out in a satisfying way. But with Gojo being sidelined does feel like a loss for the overall vibe of the show. 

Speaking of losses, we lost Nobara? And while her fight was cool and satisfying, I think she went out in a pretty unsatisfying way. It’s pretty wild that they did all the dramatic stuff to make you think she actually is dead, just to say there’s a slight chance she isn’t, then end the season without confirming either. Maki doesn’t even get mentioned again after they said she got healed, I think. I like her as a character and think she had more potential in the story. I think it was a waste to probably kill her off, especially after they already 100% killed one beloved central character in Nanami. I just don’t see myself enjoying the story when its very endearing main trio has been broken. A big part of the comedy and calmer moments being great was the banter between those three. I value the fun side of JJK and losing Nobara is a huge blow to that. And I cannot see a way of that being recovered unless they bring her back and succeed at the challenge of making that satisfying. 

Outside of the fun character moments my favorite this about JJK is the fights. Cool powers, dynamic environments etc. We got plenty of fight scenes this arc, with most of them being very good. Standout being Yuji vs Choso and everything Todo was involved in. Everything Todo related is awesome. His power is used in very interesting ways, and he brings fun energy even to serious situations. But there are mediocre fights too. Dagon is nothing. Bland bog-standard villain that has no value. He is uninteresting, his power is uninteresting, the fight is uninteresting, the animation took a notable dip in quality, and he carries little weight. He got the old guy we just got introduced to killed i guess but that's really it. He maimed Maki and Nanami but that directly did not really impact things since they get maimed again immediately after by Jogo. This is the trademark forgettable Shonen villain for me. The fact that his fight is one of the ones we see the animation suffer in more probably means they thought little of it too. As they were ok with it looking worse off than others. Let's continue the topic of villains.

I grew very tired of Mahito as a villain and am glad he’s finally gone. He just never did it for me. I get what he is about thematically, I’m not trying to act like he is a zero-substance character. I just didn’t enjoy him. I think his sneering villain shtick got old and grating really fast. He also did a lot of talking. He does have some great fun energy he brings to his often very serious scenes. But I think there was too much of him for me. The Japanese voice acting is fantastic though, he made the character much more tolerable.

It’s a shame that Geto (the person), the villain I was most interested in, got axed very quickly. And replaced by a guy who I really don't care for much. While Mahito, the one I didn’t care for as much, got to stick around for much longer. I’m sure that’s fine for people who feel differently, but not for me. I’m glad Geto’s power still lives on, but I was very invested in who he was as a character. Especially after the prequel eps. Another creative decision that I really don’t care for. And on that topic, Toji’s return was super disappointing in execution. He spent most of his screen time being a mindless murderbot. It just wasn’t interesting at all. Some more quick villain opinions- Haruta also kinda annoying and repetitive like Mahito but at least he wasn't here as long and Choso is a great character with awesome powers.

I continue to not feel super invested in the story itself. It’s not awful but I’m not as into it as I’d like to be. It’s harder to go into detail on this because it might be as simple as just not vibing with me. I think it’s just my taste. I’m not trying to say I have better taste than JJK doesn't appeal to. I talk to friends and see people online who clearly feel the story and emotions much more than I do. If you do, great! It’s just not working great for me. 

Last short thought. I feel like the last episode ended on a weird note. Like it rushed that final confrontation to conclude with us not even seeing what happened. We just know Yuji got out of it, rest isn't worth showing now, I guess? Strange and not a big fan. Maybe some repetitive dialogue could've been shaved down so you had a few more minutes.

Sorry for a very negative post but this is how I feel. I hope I don’t sound too tonally angry; I promise steam wasn’t coming out of my ears while I wrote this lol. Please believe me when I say that my criticisms of the content are not just from me being mad about the workplace environment. Many of these criticisms I felt back when I first started watching the show and came right after the peak of my investment in the show (the prequel arc). But worker abuse matters to me and does translate to how I feel about the product. Just in terms of story content, there’s so much this arc I don’t care for. It's not utter garbage, but for each thing I applaud there's at least one thing I boo. Hopefully you enjoyed it more than me. This arc did not live up to the hype fans and the previous arc set for it. 

Am I going to watch the next season of JJK? Definitely not if Mappa doesn’t change for the better. If they do change, maybe. Solely speaking on the content JJK lost a lot of the interest and optimism the prequel arc gave me. And while I'm not spoiled on specifics, I’m hearing that stuff coming later isn’t great. We'll see what the future holds, with it hopefully being more positive. If you want a sequel arc of a popular shonen show that is very good, of consistent quality and is impactful on the rest of the series with no evidence of abuse that I am aware of please watch Dr Stone New World, which I will be doing a post on. Thank you for reading.

[alltheusernamesaretaken24]

Uhh so speaking of selkies,,, I have been inspired to draw seals

[diamond-coral]

A Game

Summary: Tony suggests a game that you, the unfortunate intern, get dragged right into the center of: who can make a woman cum the fastest?

Pairings: all dark!: Steve x Reader, Bucky x Reader, Thor x Reader, Sam Wilson x Reader, Tony x Reader, implied natasha x reader

Warnings: DUB-CON/NON-CON (oral: f-receiving, fingering, tiny smidge of analplay) VOYEURISM/EXHIBITIONISM, BLACKMAILING, OVERSTIMULATION. The characters in this story are NOT good people. After reading the warnings, your media consumption is your own responsibility!

As Stark’s party mellowed down and all the guests left, you, the unfortunate intern, were called over to the small group of five Avengers seated in a section of couches.

“Y/n, come!” Thor’s voice boomed.

“Y/n, come!” Sam mimicked, deepening his voice to make fun of Thor’s.

You approached them as the men snickered at Sam’s joke. 

“What can I do for you?” you ask, a fake smile plastered on your face.

Stark cleared his throat and raised a brow at you; a silent command. 

“What can I do for you, sir?” 

“A round of drinks please, and add this to Sir Barnes, Sir Rogers, and I’s drinks.” Thor handed you the flask of his Asgardian liquor and you accepted it, hiding the slight nervous tremble of your hands.

“Of course, sir.”

“Someone’s been learning their manners,” Steve taunted, and it took all your restraint to not snarl at him.

“Easy there, Rogers,” Stark interjected, noticing how your fingers clenched Thor’s flask tighter. “Pretty sure Barnes fucked the brat outta her couple days ago when he came back from that shitshow of mission in Bosnia. Got a lot of pent up rage there, Buck?”

“Mission just put me in a bad mood,” Bucky shrugged. “Either way, I don’t think I fucked all the brat outta her. Got anything left for me, doll?”

“I have nothing for you, you self-righteous, ignorant prick,” you spat venomously.

“There she is. I always love a challenge.” Bucky smirked at how your knuckles were turning white around the flask. “Now didn’t Thor ask you to go fetch us some drinks?”

You huffed, opting to bite your tongue rather than lashing out, and spun on your heel toward the minibar.

Three-months ago, you would never have imagined your internship interview at S.H.I.E.L.D to bring you here. Your interview had been conducted by Captain America himself, and just as things began to look promising, it was interrupted by a sharp knock from Tony Stark. Tony had brought Steve into the hall, leaving the door to the conference room open, and you could only sneak glances through the window of the room, hearing Steve whisper about how it was “a question of morality” while they both kept looking back at you.

You got the position, and the next day, Tony sat you down and gave you an offer.

The Avengers needed to be ‘taken care of’, as he put it, and you being a ‘stress-reliever’ would boost morale around the team. Most of the them never had time for the outside world (apparently saving the world was a big commitment?) and were rarely ever able to make lasting relationships. You could accept the position, be compensated monthy, and get to live in the compound, or you could decline, and walk away with your mouth sealed by the confidentiality contract you signed before the interview.  Something about S.H.I.E.L.D. work being linked to a lot of top secret information, meaning you weren’t allowed to speak any details of the job to outside parties unless you wanted to get sued for every penny you were worth.

You had been on the cusp of taking the second option before Tony mentioned your sister’s job as S.H.I.E.L.D. as an agent. She was half the reason you’d interviewed for an internship. A couple words from Tony about her possibly falling into a fatal accident on a mission, and you took the position offer in a heartbeat.

You almost overfilled the glass while getting lost in your train of thought. Setting down the bottle of expensive whiskey, you placed the last glass next to the others on the silver tray, and picked it up, gracefully yet begrudgingly making your way back to the small gathering.

“Y/n, finally. We were just talking about who here can make a woman cum the fastest.”

The complete utter bluntness of Tony’s words caught you entirely off guard, and you tripped over your own feet, stumbling in your high heels to keep the tray of drinks from falling before Sam reached an arm out to catch the tray and another arm to hold your hip and steady you.

You ripped yourself from Sam’s touch without acknowledging or thanking him, to disturbed by Tony’s previous words to do so. You began passing out the glasses of dark liquid. “And you’re telling me this why?” Your voice was flat in hopes of showing Tony you were completely disinterested in any plans he might have.

“Why, we need your aid, Lady Y/n,” Thor answered a little too cheerfully for your taste.

“I won’t be partaking in your little immature competition of toxic masculinity.” You crossed your arms and continued. “It makes it seem that women are nothing but prizes. Games to be played by boys as they fight over the highscore. Toys.”

“Aren’t they?” Steve cocked his head, eyes glimmering with amusement while a smirk painted his face. The rest of the men chuckled at his reply.

“I think HR would be shocked to hear that Captain America is being a sexist dick to a woman in the workplace,” you bit back, but your threat was weak and they all knew it.

“I think HR would be to busy writing a condolence letter to your sisters family if, let’s say, on her mission with Sam tomorrow in Russia, a stray bullet hit her,” Steve replied. A quick reminder at the stakes. 

Sam clicked his tongue and shook his head in mock sympathy. “Those darn Russians and their careless aim.”  

He abruptly pushed himself off the couch and clapped his hands together. “I wanna go first,” he declared.

“Just remember, you can’t use your dick,” Tony added. “Some of us don’t have super soldier serum enhanced fuckwands.”

“Please never, ever say fuckwand again,” Bucky said, scrunching up his nose. “Besides, the hydra serum didn’t do anything down there.” He waggled his eyebrows while elbowing his enhanced counterpart. “Don’t think I could say the same for this punk here though.”

Steve muttered a ‘shut up’ while the group snickered.

All while they compared sizes like a bunch of teenagers, Sam manhandled you onto the coffee table in the center of the couches. You let out a grunt as you were shoved onto your front, stomach pressed into the tabletop while your pelvis was slammed into the edge.

Sam kneeled behind you and brought up two fingers to your mouth.

“Get ‘em nice and wet for me, baby.”

The men around you went quiet, entranced as you reluctantly took Sam’s fingers into your mouth, sucking on them and swirling your tongue around them.

When Sam finally pulled them out, he looked back at Tony.

“You ready?” Sam asked.

Sam hiked the flowy skirt of your dress up your legs causing you to squirm and pathetically thrash; a desperate attempt at putting an abrupt stop to this stupid game.

“You’re on the clock.”

At Tony’s words, Sam immediately stopped your desperate attempt at worming away from him by catching you by the back of your neck and slamming you back down hard on the coffee table. Much to your disdain, the rough treatment made you wet, and that was the last thing you wanted them to see.

But when Sam pulled your lacy panties down, you could tell it was the first thing he noticed.

“Fuck babygirl, I didn’t need you lubing up my fingers, you’re already drenched,” he noted.

You let out a soft moan as Sam worked two calloused fingers into your pussy. Although they’re thick and long, they were nowhere near the size of his dick and you silently thanked whatever was out there that he wasn’t splitting you in half with it at the moment. Sam released the grip on your neck, moving to settle the hand on your ass before giving it a light squeeze and a slap that elicited another moan from you. While Sam slowly began moving his fingers- twisting, curling, and pumping them- he leaned over you, caging your body under his broad chest, to speak dirty words into your ear.

“Baby, you’re so wet right now, I think you like having them watch you.” Your cheeks burned in shame while he picked up the pace. “You want them to see how well-behaved you are for me? Want them to see how you come on my hand like a good little slut?” he cooed.

Slow pumps now turned to quick thrusts from his skilled fingers and Sam groaned as you fluttered around him.

“That’s it. You’re taking me perfectly.”

Twisting his wrist so his thumb could also strum your clit, Sam was moving so fast you’d easily mistake him for a superhuman.

“Yes, Sam, please,” you cried out, eyes rolling into the back of your head.

“Uh-uh, babygirl. Wrong word,” he scolded, although his pace never slowed as his fingers brutally fucked into you.

“Daddy!” you screamed. “I’m cumming!”

You chanted those words, cunt clamping down on his merciless fingers. He gave you no reprieve, mercilessly thrusting into you, until you squirted, your release coating his hand and dripping down his forearm. Only when you were almost crying, did he finally remove his hand from your abused cunt.

“Now that-,” Sam stated, grinning while he stood. “-is how you make a girl come.”

“Yeah, sure, whatever Birdbrain.” You don’t have any strength to look at Tony as he speaks. “Give her a couple minutes before whoever’s next.”

Whatever the conversation was between them (you couldn’t hear it over the buzzing in your brain), it was much too short to your liking. The few minutes Tony gave you only felt like a few seconds before Bucky was getting up.

“Guess I’ll take a crack at it,” he announced, rolling his head from side to side.

“No one says “take a crack at it” anymore, old man.”

“Keep talking when your in last place, Sam,” Bucky quipped, however, his tone was still light.

You felt a metal hand on your hip before you were rolled over onto your back, now facing Bucky while your eyes pleaded with him.

“Please dont,” you croaked.

Bucky just scoffed, kneeling down between your legs and wrapping both arms around your thighs as he pulled you closer.

“Tony?” His hot breath fanned your pussy as he spoke and you inhaled sharply at the feeling.

“Whenever you’re ready,” Stark said.

Bucky wasted no time the moment the words left Tony’s mouth. He started by licking up from your hole to clit over and over, the lazy stripes already driving you wild. Letting go of one of your thighs to bring his flesh hand to your pussy, he pulled the hood of your clit back, pausing his licking to blow on your engorged bud.

“Such a pretty pussy, doll,” he murmured before turning his head around and speaking louder. “You guys seeing this?” 

He moved his head out of the way to showcase your glistening folds. A couple groans from the men on the couches had you trying to close your legs, but Bucky’s grip was like steel (especially considering his hand was metal).

“Wasting time Buck,” Steve commented and Bucky just rolled his eyes.

“I’m pretty sure I can still beat Sam and have time left over,” he scoffed.

Bucky directed his attention back to your folds, this time, diving in right away. He still had the hood of your clit pulled back as he encased the bud with his lips causing you to writhe at the intense sensation. And yet, you were held down with practically no effort as he methodically played with you. Each time he groaned against you, you let out an embarrassingly loud moan, and by the time he started sucking on your clit, you were wrecked. Your hand found home in his brown locks of hair while he quickly moved his tongue back and forward on your sensitive nub that was trapped in the vacuum of his mouth. The coil inside you wound tighter and tighter, and suddenly, while Bucky began shaking his head from side to side, it snapped. Your clit pulsed rapidly while encased in his hot mouth, and you screamed, legs locking around his head while your hand held his head in place. He worked you while you rode out your orgasm on his face until you could barely move.

Bucky got up from his knees, grinning down at you, so weak, you couldn’t muster it in you to glare back.

“Now I think I really fucked the brat out of you,” he said. “What was that?” He cupped his ear. “Did I hear a thank you sir?”

“Thank you, sir,” you whimpered weakly.

You were so fucked out, all the next events were but a blur.

Thor had feasted between your thighs the same as Bucky but was more sloppy, although, your body seemed to love ‘sloppy’. His tongue was constantly lashing and worming around your clit, the wet muscle accompanied by lewd slurping sounds, and in record time, Thor’s suckling and licking had you tensing and building up so much that your orgasm felt like a waterfall crashing over your body.

Steve was just as methodical and precise as Bucky, also pumping his fingers slowly in and out of your pussy. He was sweetly slow, dragging out your pleasure to the point where you were begging him to come. His warm tongue dragged across your sensitive cunt, while another hand reached up to grab a breast and pinch a nipple. You felt like your body was on fire. It wasn’t until Steve had inserted a thumb into your ass that he finally allowed your body sweet sweet release.

Your head span as finally collapsing on Tony’s floor, listening to the muffled voices above you.

You didn’t even register Stark’s words as he announced Thor had won and Steve had come in last. You barely even heard Steve’s defense that he was just enjoying himself too much in the moment.

Although ten-minutes later you had a somewhat sense of clarity, after hearing their conversation, you wished you were just unconscious. Even better, dead.

“I’m tellin’ you man, I made her squirt. She definitely came the hardest with me.” Sam’s voice rang.

“Dude- she was literally grinding against my face and holding me in a headlock with her legs,” Bucky argued.

“I literally made the brat beg to cum,” Steve inserted.

“I’d say that by bringing her to release the fastest, it was most intense with me,” Thor declared, victoriously.

You were on the brink of tears as they talked about you. Until another voice cut into the room. A female voice.

“What do you boys think you’re doing?”

It was Natasha. Your head jolted up as you felt a glimmer of hope surge through you.

That glimmer of hope was quickly extinguished at her next words.

“Not inviting me to the boy’s party?” she scolded. “You think a girl might beat you by a landslide?”

Nat squatted down next to you, running a soft hand on your cheek.

“Well you’re right. I’ll beat Thor’s record and cut it in half.”

She began unbuttoning her pants.

“And I’ll do it while riding her face.”

[angelamajiki]

PARINGS: Pro Hero! Dabi x Sister! Reader

TW: yandere, incest, no con, voyeurism, choking, burning, unprotected/no prep sex, breeding/creampies, snowballing, public sex, degradation, lots of dirty talk

AN: WHEEWW my first fic in a while, so excited for my first join intro collab!! thank you to the lovely jo for writing it <33 enjoy

A BNHarem Server Collab! Check out the other works here.

Breaking news: We have yet another report to add to the slew of attacks this month, this comes just days after we broadcast rumours of villains running rampant over the city. This spate of attacks has put the entire metropolitan area at a standstill, road closures and damaged property making it difficult for commuters to get to work in the morning. Road maintenance endeavour to do its best to keep the city running, but it seems futile when these attacks continue to increase. The entire city was brought to a standstill by the mysterious villain who has still not been named, but reports show they are nothing like we have ever experienced before.

Where are the heroes now? Who will save us from the terror overwhelming our city?

Every day the crime toll continues to rise and we have no one here to protect us. The Hero Public Safety Commission assured us earlier in the week that the crime rate would go down, that the top Heroes are out there protecting our city, but if so, where are they? Is it really safe to go out anymore, who can we trust? Would you put your life in the hands of a Hero today? When they have proved our streets are no longer safe. We still have no information on what is going on, or who is involved but we must remain observant. We will continue to report the latest news as we receive it, but for now, we must implore you to heed the warnings of the city-wide curfew that is soon to be implemented. If anyone has any information on these occurrences in the city please send them to us or contact the police, you can remain anonymous. The safety of our citizens is what is most important, stay vigilant and don’t go out unless it is absolutely necessary.

Christ, what a load of bullshit the news was nowadays. Constantly whining and squealing about what heroes did and didn’t do, promoting fear-mongering like it was the hottest trend. Between your father and two older brothers dedicating their life to the cause of justice, the world always felt just a little safer to you, the naive little thing that you were. And tonight was no exception.

Despite the rapidly increasing crime rates, your judgment to grab a couple of drinks in the city with your friends was hardly swayed. The stress of it all was getting to you and you’d love nothing more to drink your heart out at one of the few spots still left open. It was a sleazy place, but it was fun. If anything, you found a bar in the area where your eldest brother was currently stationed patrolling.

Touya had always been protective of you ever since the two of you were children, and he carried that same possessiveness well into your adulthood. Always chasing off any potential suitors, keeping you out of trouble, and generally being a menace to anyone who thought they were good enough to be around his favorite little sister.

By the end of the night, stumbling around drunkenly was the only thing keeping you upright as you made your way out of the club and onto the street, looking for a taxi to get you home. Sirens wailed faintly in the distance, a mess of blue and red lighting up the darkened streets.

“Hey sweetheart. Need a hand?”

Grubby hands met your arms the same time the cool air of the night did, tugging and pulling at you to come closer, wherever that may be. Jaunts and laughter echoed off the buildings, only adding to the haziness the alcohol induced. “What’s a pretty little thing like yourself doing out here all on your lonesome?”

Weak attempts to push the group of assaulters off you were in vain as they groped and squeezed your body at their pleasure. “Come on, we’re just trying to keep ya company. Right, boys?”

“Stop..”

Your whine came across much more pathetic than you could have ever hoped, only earning more chuckles from the men. “Just relax, sweetheart. We’ll take good care of you.”

Blue flames danced around the group of you, closing the lot of you against the building wall in a small circle of fire.

“Will you now? Last I checked, I'm the only man suited for that.” Touya was less than amused to have found out from Fuyumi that you traveled into the city given its state, even more so when he saw how drunk and disorderly you were being.

“T-Touya-nii!”

The men untangled themselves from you with ease, tossing you into the arms of your expectant brother, who was more than glad to pull you into a tight embrace. “Shit! It's the number three, Heatstroke!”

The comforting warmth of his body and scent of his cologne settled your frantic nerves, tucking yourself closer into his arms. “Honestly, it’s like you're asking for it at this point.”

Your heart sank low in your chest, but you couldn't find the strength to move away from him as he scowled down at you.

“Look at what you're wearing, you little tease. Bet you would have loved to have them violate you, huh slut?”

Never has Touya been so venomous with you before; it made your heart hurt, even more, to see your beloved nii-san be so cruel.

“Don’t you worry, that’s why your big brother is here to show you who you really belong to.”

Shoved against the wall, he pinned your trembling form with his right knee in between your legs and his hands wandering over your skimpy dress.

“You boys can stick around to watch; let a real man show you how it's done.”

Flames singed at your dress, burning it to ashes to expose you in the cool wind of the night. Hot fingers pressed into your skin, littering marks in their wake before they wrapped around your throat. “You were just begging for nii-san to come to save your slutty ass, huh, princess? I know you checked my patrol schedule before ending up at this dive.”

His hand tightened around your neck, his lips at your ear. “Wanted nii-san to come put you in your place, yeah? After fuckin’ teasing me all these years, you finally cracked me. Are you proud of yourself, little girl?”

A whine slipped from your constricted throat, your smaller hand gripping at the large one squeezing you with everything it had. “And now you've got an audience to witness my ownership over you. You're mine, little girl.”

Finally releasing your throat, his hands traveled down to your chest and groped at your roughly, pinching and pulling at your soft, sensitive nipples. Bile was rising in your throat as you drowned in your own fear, feeling him drag you into the depths of depravity.

“What’s the matter, imouto? I thought you said I was your favorite. You're hurting my feelings, y’know.”

“Touya, please-”

A scoff slapped you hard in the face as his knee jerked up against your cunt. “Don’t start with me. I know who you really are and what you really want, even better than yourself.”

His words stabbed at your heart, and his wandering hands only seemed to pour salt over the wounds. “You’re nothing more than my whore, little sister.”

Hips ground against your backside in a slow, teasing manner, groans pushing past his lips as he did so. “You have no one to blame but yourself.”

His erection was pressed flush against you, straining in his pants before he unzipped himself. At this point, you were more than sobered up running on fear and adrenaline alone. Your panties were ripped clean off with his free hand while the other stroked his hardening cock. “Look at me.”

The tip was aligned with your hole, rubbing slightly to gather the minimal wetness between your lips. “I said look at me.”

Teary eyes peaked up at him through wet lashes, silently pleading with a man who was not known for mercy.

“Good fuckin’ girl, so obedient for your big brother.”

With one snap of his hips, Touya fully sheathed himself inside of your tight cunt, groaning at the way you squealed for him. “Aw, you like that, huh, princess. Feeling good?”

A warbled moan was the only response you could give him as he slowly began to pull out. The alcohol had you buzzing enough to block out the pain of the stretch, and damn did you feel filled to the brim.

“Can’t wait to breed this greedy little cunt of yours.”

His pace was slow, agonizingly so. Touya couldn't help but savor every second of the first time having been inside you, especially after dreaming about it for so long. God, if it didn't turn him on to have an audience, knowing that these men knew he was fucking his sister.

What would the media think? God, the news cycle would be ripped to shreds tomorrow over this breaking story. But hey, no PR is bad PR.

The thought of finally having staked his claim in you almost had him coming prematurely, but he had to hold out for your very first time together, and it certainly wouldn't be the last.

Heh, your crying face was so cute. Those tears weren't shy by any means and neither were your sobs. It's alright, you’ll learn to love being Touya’s cocksleeve.

“Say you love me.”

An impossible request when you're being violated by the person you held dearest to your heart.

His pace had picked up brutally, slamming into you without care for his flames spreading wildly nor the group of assaulters who seemed to vanish once they had the opening to.

“I-I love you, nii-san! I love you!”

Your cries were shrill and whiny, echoing into the chaotic night. The grip on your hips was heating up, so much so that his handprints were burned into your love handles.

“Good girl, good little slut.”

His breathing was erratic, hot against your neck as he growled and grunted into your ear. “Gonna let nii-san breed this pretty little pussy? Yes, you are. I know you are because you're fuckin’ mine, bitch.”

Moaning out your name, Touya came deep inside your womb, thick ropes of his cum painting your insides. You were soon to follow thanks to his thumb against your clit, causing you to writhe and whine in his arms.

Utterly spent, you rested against the brick wall you were pinned to, feeling the cum drip out of your still filled hole.

“Let’s get you home and into my bed, princess. I gotta go have a chat with Dad and Shouto, let ‘em know you’re fully off limits now.”

— tagging: @libiraki @bonesoftheimpala @tomurasprincess @sightoru

[spinster-sisters]

Arrangement. psh

TW: Oral, fingering, corruption, unprotected sex, public sex, reader is kinda selfish but in the oblivious way not the malicious way, seonghwa is seonghwa. Honestly I was going for something kinda specific here and i dont think i succeded, its not bad or anything just not what i was going for but i dont think yall will be able to tell hopefully.

The first thing i write in probably well over 2 weeks and its something that nobody but @deja-vux wanted. what can i say? this idea gave me brain rot.

One last thing, this is kind of a part 2 to the corruption kink blurby thing I wrote for Seonghwa (can be found in my master list) but it’s not a direct continuation or anything and you don’t have to read that to get this.

-

Your jaw ached in strain as you held your mouth open, trying to keep your throat relaxed. Seonghwa’s grip was tight in your hair as he thrust his dick shallowly past your lips. The position was altogether uncomfortable. Seonghwa laid across the back seat of his vintage car, back propped up against the door with one knee raised. You were knelt between his thighs, bent over in a painful arch trying to keep still in the tight space. But all of that was inconsequential, the breathy groans and crooked smirk of the man in front of you were enough to drown out the pain.

As his hips pushed into your mouth again, dick sliding further down your throat than before, in a desperate attempt to please the man you did your best to swallow around the long length of his cock although tears pricked in your eyes. His grip on your hair tightened and you looked up just in time to see his head thump back against the glass window followed by another low groan and a face screwed up in pleasure, his normally perfectly styled black hair now tousled and falling into his eyes. Deep satisfaction ran through you.

To your surprise, the hand in your hair yanked you back and off him. You whined at the roughness, despite the way it sent shocks down to your core. Seonghwa’s eyes cracked open to peer down at you with a grin.

“You're getting good at this, princess.” He compliments in his velvet voice. His words elated you and a smile crept onto your lips.

“You’ve come so far in so little time, you could barely take me in your mouth without gagging a month ago, now look at you. You should be proud.” Seonghwa continued, running his hand through your hair once before regaining his grip on it. You practically purred. While you looked back on those first few times with Seonghwa fondly, you much preferred his smooth praises to the harsh words and instructions he gave you before. But you were still glad for them, there was no way you would have come this far this quickly if he hadn’t been hard on you.

Seonghwa’s hand was pulling you back down again before you could voice anything, “come on princess, show me how much you’ve learned.”

Back to work you went. He gave you a tad bit more freedom this time around, not making any move to thrust into your mouth, instead, allowing you to show your newfound mastery of dick sucking. But you kept his preferences in mind, he always wanted to draw things out, to take his time with you. So you began by kissing gently along the red tip, then lapping at the precum that spilled from it. The taste was definitely an acquired one, your face had screwed up in disgust the first time I touched your tongue, but now you sought it out as it meant you were doing well.

Taking the tip completely in your mouth, you hummed as you swirled your tongue around it for a moment before popping off and caressing the underside with a flick of the tongue. Seonghwa hummed in approval, nudging your head forward again in gentle encouragement. You took him into your mouth again, this time hollowing your cheeks and bobbing your head in a firm rhythm. You kept your tongue pressed into the underside of his dick, running along the most prominent vein. Each time you took more and more of his impressive length into your mouth, moaning in satisfaction as you went.

You couldn’t help the way your legs pressed together as more wetness pooled in your underwear. Your mind flashed with the first time Seonghwa had taken you completely. Your body had shuddered as he eased his cock between your legs and into your cunt. It had been uncomfortable sure, and the sensation had been unfamiliar, but Seonghwa had taken care to prepare you enough before ruining you in that way. Your first time had been exceptional needless to say.

You were drawn back to the present by the low growl rumbling out of Seonghwa’s chest as his dick hit the back of your throat, all of him save for the part you had your hand wrapped around for support was now gracefully sliding past your lips. You ventured another look up to his face. He was watching you intently with fire behind his dark eyes. You looked up at him with wide eyes, barely able to meet his strong gaze. His elbow rested on his bent knee and his head was leaning against his hand. If it weren’t for the low sounds he released from time to time you would never be able to tell what you were up to between his legs from his face.

The sudden desire to break his composure overtook you, to make him feel as desperate as the ache between your legs. So as you removed your hand to take his length all the way down into your throat your hips began rocking back and forth, rutting into nothing as your legs pressed tightly together.

“Keeping going like that, and I’ll cum down your throat.” His voice rumbled.

You doubted that. Another thing you had learned about him was that he was unbelievably composed. The kind of restraint that came from much experience. He wouldn’t cum unless he wanted to, his words were only to encourage you. But regardless you took them with glee. Seonghwa had long since discovered that nothing encouraged you more than the thought of his cum, the very reward for your efforts.

Despite his promise, it was several more minutes before he spilled into your mouth, having finally decided that you had sufficiently proven your knowledge. His head had fallen back against the window and he let out a trail of deep groans as he spilled against your tongue. You swallowed it appreciatively, beaming up at him from between his legs, awaiting the praise for your efforts.

When he looked at you again it was with a crooked smile and a gentle hand stroking your hair.

“Well done princess,” he spoke far too casually for having just cum down your throat. His free hand took your hip between his fingers and hoisted you up to straddle his lap. He adjusted to sit normally in the seat and he took a moment to size you up. His gaze burned as his eyes trailed over your body and your legs tried to squeeze together again as another bout of wetness spilled out of you, but Seonghwa’s hips kept them apart. He noticed the attempt, however.

With a smirk, Seonghwa slid his hand into the waistband of your shorts and into your panties. You sucked in air only to release it with a whine as his cold fingers slipped between your folds, releasing the slick into his palm. He chuckled at you.

“Oh what have I done to you,” he started with mock remorse, a small pout painting his features, “only a true slut could get his wet from sucking dick, I suppose I have truly ruined you,” he finished with a wild smirk. Your hips ground into his palm subconsciously.

“Mmmhmmm” you sighed in agreement, absolutely loving when he spoke to you like that, only Seonghwa’s words could ever affect you like that. If anyone else said them it would sound vile.

“Yours,” you added with a hoarse voice, rocking your hips into his still hand again.

“Mine?” He asked, pretending to be confused, tilling his head to the side as if asking for clarification. Though the next words to leave your lips were no surprise to him, as he had taught you them.

“Your slut.”

-

It was getting harder to avoid Seonghwa at school. Not because either of your schedules changed, not because he stopped ditching as much as he did. In fact, those things hadn’t happened at all, it just seemed like they had. It seemed like everywhere you went you saw him. Either sauntering his way through the hallways, gathered with his like-minded friends in the courtyard, or even sitting in the far back of the single class you shared flipping his pen between two fingers as he stared absently out the window.

Once upon a time, before you had seen him as anything more than trouble making pretty boy, it had confused you how he had even managed to be in the same advanced literature class as you and it hard infuriated you when you discovered that Park Seonghwa had the audacity to be smart. Your one-track mind had seen it as a waste for him to have even a shred of intelligence behind his starry eyes when it was clear school was the last thing ever on his mind. But at the time you had pushed the thought aside, thinking that as long as you still stood at the top of the class it didn’t matter.

But when you found it most difficult to avoid Park Seonghwa was when he was leaned against the locker of some pretty face showing that crooked half-smirk that you had become so familiar with. And it caused quite a few unnamed emotions to stir in your stomach each time. Each time you shoved those emotions away before they had the chance to manifest. You had no right to feel them. It was your reputation at stake if the student body discovered that you were Park Seonghwa’s latest pass time, not his. In fact, it would probably gain him a feather in his cap from his crowd if they knew. You and Seonghwa had never discussed the exclusivity of your arrangement, you hardly had the clarity of mind to do so at any moment his gaze was focused on you, so you could never be sure if his velvet words had led him between the legs of any of the pretty faces you saw him with. And you didn’t allow yourself to dwell on it, even though very deeply wanted to know. Once again, you pushed the thoughts from your mind, as long as you still to be with him the most, it didn’t matter what those other people did with him.

But as the school slowly emptied at the end of the day, and you were making your way to the student council room once again (trying your hardest to not remember when he had taken you against a table in there as well) you found Seonghwa loitering in the hallway with a girl leaned against his chest inches away from his face.

You came to a dead stop. The gears of your brain are either unable or unwilling to comprehend what you saw. Why this particular time bothered you so much was a question you could not answer, it was not the first time, nor would it be the last. Normally you would simply turn your head and keep walking as though you had seen nothing, and you had almost convinced yourself to do exactly that when the girl noticed your presence.

“Do you need something?” She spat, clearly from the crowd that thought the student council was all prissy know it all’s, and you had to remind yourself that until very recently that is exactly what you were. But you were also stubborn. You composed yourself quickly and kept your eyes on the girl.

“Unless you have somewhere to be, I suggest you move your groping elsewhere. Somewhere off school grounds preferably.” You called in an even tone, thankfully your voice had not betrayed the way your stomach was churning.

“Come on, don’t be such a prude,” the nameless girl countered. Her choice of words temped you to glance at Seonghwa, but you had a feeling he would be looking at you, which you don’t know if you could handle.

“Trust me, the rest of the student body would be just as grossed out as I am, whatever is going on here is not as ‘hot as you think it is,” you added air quotes around the word for good measure. The girl smirked at you.

“I don’t know, I think they would be lucked to see such a sexy couple.” She retorted, her arms curling around Seonghwas middle. At the word “couple” you couldn’t help it, your eyes flashed to Seonghwa. He had the audacity to look amused as if the back and forth was the best entertainment he had seen all week.

You didn’t like that she used that word. You had absolutely no desire to be in a relationship with Seonghwa, quite the opposite, in fact, it would ruin you. But your mind flashed with the one word you heard him use perhaps most often, “mine.” Granted, you had never called him ‘yours,’ but the experiences he gave you seemed somehow cheapened if he was giving everyone else the same ones. You felt spiteful, what was the point in teaching you all those wonderful things if he could get them elsewhere. Those were the thoughts that spurred on your words.

“I’ll let them know when I find one then.” You deadpanned. It took her a moment to realize what you meant, then her mouth hung open. She looked ready to retort before Seonghwa cut her off.

“Why don’t you go home, leave this conversation to the big kids.” He said, looking at her for the first time since the conversation started. Once again, it took her a moment to realize it was her he was talking to, and then she gapped like a fish. Seonghwa had turned his eyes back to you, not bothering to entertain her shock. Finally, with a huff she stormed off, leaving you and Seonghwa alone in the hallway, locked in a stare-off.

“Kinda slow isn’t she? You can do better than that.” You grumble, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Oh I know I can,” he replied without missing a beat, but the less than subtle once over and the knowing smile he gave you only served to tick you off, rather than flatter you.

“Then why waste your time with her?” As soon as the words came out of your mouth you regretted them. They sounded far too much like jealousy for your taste, and based on the look in his eyes; an invitation as well. Seonghwa’s lean body pushed from the wall and took several long strides towards you, till he stood over you. His hand came to rest all too familiarly on your hip.

“Why? Have something better I can do with my time?” He said, not at all trying to hide his suggestive undertone. You scoffed, in an attempt to keep the burn of his stare away from your mind.

“Your disgusting,” you said, though it came out far less convincing than it sounded in your head. You took a step back from the all-to-magnetic boy. If someone came across you two now, you needed as much distance between him and you as possible.

“Are you going to report me? Madam President?” He replied in a moc disappointed tone.

“As if I adding today onto your record would change a thing. We have a filling cabinet for just you and your friends, Seonghwa. I don’t want to overflow it.” You threw back.

“I didn’t know the student council was such fans of my work.” He replied casually without missing a beat. You opened your mouth to retort but he cut you off.

“Come find me tomorrow night if you're still looking to help me waste time, princess,” he began, turning to grab his bag from the floor, “I think you have a council meeting to get from, wouldn’t want to get in your way of upholding the high standards of the school.” As he spoke he began walking away, only to throw a smirk over his shoulder at his last four words. Leaving you alone in the hallway.

-

You did not find him the next day. You had decided you were upset with him, not because of the girl, you told yourself, but because of the patronizing way he spoke to you. Not that that was different from normal. It just seemed to be the best way to allow yourself to be mad at him without those unwanted feelings worming their way into your brain.

Whether Seonghwa had even noticed your boycott was impossible to tell. He would never come to you, he wanted you to come to him. He never seemed even the slightest bit bothered in the few times you had glanced at him from the corner of your eye. He laughed with his friends without a care in the world and his blank face during class held no emotion besides boredom. You on the other hand, now that was a different story. You had become used to meeting up with him once or even twice a week in various places around town for your “lessons” and you had become “insatiable.” (his word not yours)

Your resolve to be mad at him was cracking as the days went on and was replaced with the need for him. Him and only him. No one else would do.

But in an effort to keep your resolve you threw yourself in the opposite direction, instead, making plans with the Vice President of the student council, a lovely girl named Marie.

Marie was your friend. She chose to use the words “gal pals” from time to time. An airy upbeat girl who rarely let her soft smile fall from her face. And right now, the furthest possible thing from spending time with Park Seonghwa.

So on Wednesday, both you and Marie piled into her silver car and drove off to her house. You both stumbled into her orderly bedroom with a fit of quiet giggles at the expense of several other council members. You shrugged your bag off your shoulders and plopped down onto the plush carpet beside her bed as she did the same.

“Oh my gosh, I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever! Outside of council meetings obviously, I mean, I was starting to think you had found a different best friend and I was-“ Marie started rambling almost as soon as she sat down. You couldn’t help the small smile that found your lips. It’s true you had been neglecting her as your friend for the past month or so, instead of spending time with, well, him. But now that sat in her familiar room, seeing the pictures of the events you had planned together scattered on the walls, the sudden realization that you had indeed missed her was shocking.

“Sorry about that, there was some stuff going on at home, that needed my attention. But now I’m back!” You replied, trying to match her seemingly boundless energy. Her face screwed up in worry at your words.

“Oh no! Is everything ok? Do you want to talk about it?” She asked in her characteristic wide eyes. You shook your head.

“It’s not serious I promise. My parents were just redoing the garden and my mother insisted I be home every day to help planting and stuff.” You continued with the lie you had prepared. It was the same thing you had been telling everyone when they asked about your general absence.

She looked content with your answer, smiling and pulling her binder from her bag.

“So, the basketball game this Friday, I know we have the event mostly planned out but I think that we still need to-“ she started again, going right into her work. And you held up a hand to slow her.

“Woah hold on,” you started with a smile, “we have been planning this game for 2 weeks I think we can take a break tonight. You know? Just hang out a little?” You asked. She looked at you surprised.

“Since when have you ever wanted to take a break?” She asked with a curious glance but it broke into a smile, “come on, it’s the first game of the season and the coach asked us specifically to make sure that the whole school showed up and it runs smoothly. Besides if I do a good job I might just beat you out for president next year.” She said the last part with a low voice and a wiggle of the eyebrows.

But that wasn’t the part of her outburst that surprised you. She was right, when have you ever been the one to want to take a break? Surely you have been indulging yourself too much lately. You recovered your momentary lapse.

“Oh you wish,” you replied with a coy smirk that broke you both down into giggles once again.

The rest of your night was flung into a casual discussion with homework and planning galore.

-

Perhaps there are better places, and there are definitely better times. But since it came down to either the locker room showers or the back of Seonghwa car, at least the showers had more room.

Outside the door, the basketball game was raging on and I likely would be for the next hour. You could hear the school cheering along with the game, and the surprisingly loud squeaks of the player's shoes on the gym floor. Nobody would be coming in here till the game was over, you had until then.

You had been leaning against the sink when Seonghwa walked in. One look at him was all it took for you to be willing to break your streak, it’s hard to be mad at someone when you can’t glance at them without your mind flashing with every dirty thing they have done to you. So the moment he crossed over to you, you flung yourself at him. Your arms instinctively wrapped around his neck when your lips meet his. You could feel him smirking on your lips, but at the moment you couldn’t care less.

Seonghwa’s hands fell to your hips and to your utter dismay he used his grip to gently push your body away from him. A whine pulled from your lips as you looked up at him with pleading eyes. He looked amused.

“Hold on there princess, what’s the rush?” He asked head tiling to the side with a patronizing look. You huff at his words, tightening your arms around his neck you push yourself flush against him again.

“The rush is that I haven’t had time to see you all week and I’m going insane.” You convey in a tone that clearly says ‘shouldn’t this be obvious?’ Seonghwa’s eyebrow raised accusingly.

“Oh, is that what it was? That you didn’t have time?” He asked, though his tone suggested he knew the answer. You could feel yourself blushing, so he had noticed you had been avoiding him. Honestly, you didn’t think he would.

“Because I’m pretty sure I saw you and miss congeniality meeting up every day after school.” You wish now more than ever that you had more experience in the “relationship” field, even if this wasn’t one because you could not for the life of you decipher Seonghwa’s expression. His face was relaxed, showing no sign of anger or disappointment or any other emotion, but his eyes were staring you down with great intensity. But then again, he always seemed to do that.

“Council stuff.” You mumble in reply, trying with all your might to speak as casually as him. At this, Seonghwa gifted you with an expression you understood. Fake surprise.

“Oh, is that what it was?” He began, looking up at the ceiling as though pondering the idea, before looking back to you with that damned crooked smirk. His grip on your waist suddenly tightened. A moment later he had pushed you back against the sink, caging his arms around you.

“Or is it because you were jealous?” He was grinding madly now.

Jealousy. That was that emotion that you had been shoving down all week. How you had not realized it before was a mystery. But to hear it come from his mouth? It made you see red. Suddenly you were far angrier than you had any right to be. Your gaze hardened quickly and you did your best to put space between your bodies, though it was practically impossible with his arms changing you in and head leaning down into your face.

“Do you want to waste time talking, or are you going to fuck me?” You spat. He processed your words for a fraction of a second longer than necessary before he had the audacity to look amused.

“So you were jealous.” He practically giggles, shaking his head and looking down in amusement. The tips of his fluffy black hair brushed your nose and you almost swatted at it. How dare he? You pressed your hands into his shoulders and pushed against him, trying to move him away from you. He allowed you to move him, but not by much, just enough to give you a little room while you fume at him.

If you had the slightest bit of hindsight at this moment, you would have realized your anger was misplaced. You were angry at yourself for feeling that stupid emotion in the first place. But at present, blaming him seemed easiest. And the fact that your anger only served to amuse him made it feel a bit more justified.

“What’s so funny.” You spat, crossing your arms in front of your chest. He peered at you, and your clearly ticked-off demeanor before chuckling. His hands still gripped the porcelain sink behind you and for a brief moment, his hand flexed against the hard surface, holding some unseen emotion in the action.

“You are, princess. For someone so smart I forgot how absolutely clueless you can be about anyone who isn’t yourself.”

You almost stormed out of the room. And you probably would have if it wasn’t for the placement of his arms. But he continued speaking despite your livid expression.

“I was keeping up appearances.” He said in a flat tone. You could now add confusion into the storm of emotions brewing inside you.

“What does that mean?” You said the words with venom but there was a clear tone of lack of understanding in your voice. He, once again, found this amusing.

“Exactly what it sounds like. How would it look for me, if I suddenly started to ignore every advance made on me? Believe it or not sweetheart but I also have a reputation to uphold. Just the same as you. And since your the one who is so adamant that nobody knows about our ‘meetings’ it’s business as usual.”

Realization washed over you like water to a flame, all the rage dissipating just as quickly as it appeared, and your face softened. And then came the guilt. You just basically blew up on the man for doing exactly what you wanted him to, for doing exactly what you were doing by avoiding him. You had never before considered Seonghwa’s reputation in your musings. Your eyes glazed over a bit as you looked down, letting out a quiet “oh.”

You kept your gaze rooted to your shoes, unwilling to look at Seonghwa for fear of what you would see. You jumped when you felt his touch. One hand came to your waist and a gentle caress and the other took hold of your chin more firmly and tilted your head up to his eyes. And to your surprise, a coy smile lay across his features.

“It’s ok princess, your obliviousness was what drew me to you in the first place anyways. You were so caught up in your own little self-centered world you didn’t even notice how badly I wanted you till I had you pressed against the wall. I don’t think this would be as fun if I didn’t have to teach you a thing or two along the way,”

you blushed again at the memory and he slid his thumb against your lower lip. Your mouth parted automatically to wrap your lips around it, lulled into the submissive trace his silken words always put you in. He chuckled at you. “At least now I know you haven’t been messing around with anyone else. You’ve been too busy sulking over me to even notice if any other guys tried to seduce you.”

You hummed around his finger, slightly comforted by the fact he would have been jealous too. His words suggested that he wanted you to himself as much as you felt the same about him.

His thigh was suddenly pressing into your core and the hand on your waist dragged your hips across it. The skirt you wore did nothing to shield your panty-covered cunt from the rough denim of his jeans and your mouth hung open to mewl at him, his thumb still dangling from your lips. He leaned down to whisper in your ear.

“You wouldn’t let any other guys touch you, right princess?” He mumbles though he spoke like he already knew the answer.

You garbled put some kind of agreement as quick as you could. With a smirk, Seonghwa hiked up the fabric of your skirt to expose your damp underwear and lifted you ever so slightly by the waist onto the edge of the sink. There was a sliver of pride in his eyes at the way you spread your legs willing for him, presenting yourself as best you could, just as he had taught you. He pushed the fabric covering your pussy to the side and slide a fringed through the slick that gathered there. And you muffled a whine into his neck as your arms flung over his shoulder.

“I’m gonna have to be quick with you today sweetheart, the game is almost over, but wouldn’t want the whole basketball team to come piling in and see you like this would you.”

You shook your head as best as you could with your face nestled into his collar bones. Your eyes were screwed shut as his fingers continued to glide through your folds, sometimes barely slipping inside you before pulling out. He was working you up with well-practiced hands. He had learned his way around your body much faster than you had learned his, knowing all the ways to make you tick.

“No, this is for my eyes only, right sweetheart?” One of Seonghwa’s slim fingers caught your clit and you gasps, gripping the shirt covering his shoulders. He tutted at you.

“Don’t tell me you've forgotten what all I’ve taught you in just one week. Come on and use your words.” You could feel his words rumbling in his chest for how tight you held him. You were hesitant to pull away, but the edge in his voice urged on. Moving away just enough to let your voice carry.

“Only for you,” you mumble. Despite your quiet tone, you meant the words far more than you anticipated. Seonghwa pushed two long slim fingers inside you at your response, stretching your walls with ease. You gasped at the intrusion and buried your face in his chest again, trying to muffle any noises that may come out of you. There was still a game going on outside after all.

Seonghwa’s fingers arched inside you, brushing against the most sensitive place on your walls and your back arched. You could feel yourself getting louder and louder with every passing moment, but you were still unbearably on edge of being discovered.

“You especially responsive today, maybe leaving you alone for a while has its benefits.” Seonghwa mused into your hair as he worked, pulling even more sounds from you with every movement of his hand. His practiced fingers touched and toyed with you so well, it was impossible to keep quiet.

“No-“ you started in a shaky voice, not wanting to go so long without his touch like this again.

“Only joking sweetheart,” he giggles in your ear. But at that moment he pulled his skilled fingers away from your core and you choked on air. He ran his free hand up your spine in what was meant to be a gentle caress but it sent shivers through your body regardless. Your face stayed hidden against his body, at this point, his body heat seemed to be the only thing grounding you right now.

With your vision obscured there was a brief moment of heated silence where it seemed like nothing was happening, then the distinct sound of a belt clicking open and a zipper being pulled down echoed in the room. You pulled away from his chest and looked up at him with wide star eyes. He was already watching you with a smirk. Your mouth hung open with anticipation. He took in your face with a pleased expression, one hand coming down to cup your chin and tilt your head further up.

“I love it when you look at me like that,”

As soon as the words ended Seonghwa was crashing his lips onto yours and without missing a beat he thrust his length into your cunt in one quick movement. You were suddenly very thankful for the kiss, as it did well to muffle the cry ripping pst your lips. His grip on your hip was like iron as he began to set a pace. Each time pushing if possible even deeper inside you. You forced your legs to spread wider as your hands clawed down his back. Each time he filled you completely your body twitched as he brushed over your most sensitive spot.

Seonghwa still held your chin tightly in his palm, keeping your lips locked in a heated kiss. He seemed to be timing the kiss with his thrusts, which meant it was incredibly fast. He was kissing you as though he wished to devour you whole and at the moment you wanted nothing else but to allow him. Every few minutes the kiss would break as you both panted for air before it resumed with that same fervor.

Quite suddenly it became all too much, you were melting into him. Every stroke of his dick against your pulsing walls felt like fire shooting through your body in the best way, making you twitch uncontrollably. Your body acted of its own accord, hips bucking to meet his with every thrust and your hands grasping wildly against his back, trying to bring him impossibly closer. Several times you tried to break the kiss just to moan but his mouth chased yours and swallows up the sounds before they could escape.

And the kiss was something else entirely. You had kissed the man before but never like this. This felt so raw and unyielding. Every swipe of his tongue against your own felt like an invitation or a promise, for what you did not know. All of a sudden it felt entirely too intimate, too real. The kind of kiss reserved for true lovers in a moment of passion, not two teenagers fucking in a bathroom. But you couldn’t break away, not that you wanted to.

A gasp rang through the room. And in a moment that felt not unlike plunging into a freezing ocean, you realized that it had not come from you, or Seonghwa for that matter. Seonghwa had stilled to a halt inside you from the moment he heard it. He abruptly broke the kiss, sidestepping just enough that his broad back blocked the exposed parts of your body. But you couldn’t focus on the surprisingly chivalrous way he had protected you from sight, or the way he was mumbling under his breath as he righted himself and his clothes before doing the same to you.

No, your eyes were locked on the door. Where a mortified-looking Marie stood with her mouth hung open.

-

so can yall see what I was going for? or did I fail miserably lol.

[atomicwriter]

my teeth in your heart → xiao

00. An Amputated Soul

DESCRIPTION: in liyue, wuwang hill is spoken of as the place where the dead dwell, and there’s a fable that’s oft–repeated among the youth of qingce village. xiao knows this tale, he witnessed it firsthand, and it is as familiar to him as the wind that he coils between his fingers. he does not speak of it much, for who is he to tell it to? all he knows is that the memory is prevalent as the disembodied whispers of karmic debt that call his name.

DISCLAIMER: gender neutral reader. brief mentions of nudity and death. multi-chapter fic.

WORD COUNT: 3k.

It’s a strange sensation.

There’s no pain, just an all-consuming numbness that spreads throughout your entire body. Your fingers flex, although you’re barely able to make sense of their movements. You can only recognize the metronome of your heartbeat as you float wistfully, the blood in your veins roaring so loud that all other sounds fall deaf to your ears. This serenity, a moment free from shouldering the hardships of the world, seems all too foreign for you, although you can’t pinpoint the exact reason why.

Here, you drift in the endless cosmos, wet and thick. You’re untethered, a lone particle with no sense of gravity in the middle of space. Reality seems discombobulated, and life consists of fractured memories that you’re unable to put together, as if you are missing the puzzle pieces necessary to do so. There’s a heavy pounding in your temples, and the tresses of your hair float around your head like wisps of smoke caught in the moonlight.

It’s when you open your eyes that you realize you can’t breathe. You suddenly become aware that you’re submerged underwater, and the previous tranquility is replaced by a fervent hysteria. Curled up in a fetal position, your bones knock together at the joints, trying for a foothold over the slick crossings of the river floor. Withal, your limbs are constricted by the water reeds, rendering you practically immobile, and your feet sink into the slick, black earthsoup. The surface seems far away from your stricken fingers as you desperately flail them in an attempt to stay afloat.

You can feel your heart pulse sporadically in your teeth, and your spine convulses as you choke on the air that you can’t breathe. In a brief moment of clarity, you retract your arms, beginning to uproot the reeds that confine your body to the riverbed. Determination numbs the burning sensation that coruscates throughout your chest, snuffing out the white-hot sensation that begins to gnaw at your lungs. This newfound electricity swallows you whole, surging through your veins like an incinerator that’s sweltering hot and nuclear-powered. Mud billows up in waves from the floor.

You can taste the acrid tang of death as you bite down on your tongue, and you know it’s coming when your periphery turns white. An abrupt coolness rushes in, igniting a formication along your skin. In mere moments, you realize, you will float like the water reeds, nothing more than flesh and bones ready to decay in the currents. It’s unnerving to realize, it’s unnerving to even think about, and you want to push against the exhaustion that barrels onto your body; to strain for the moonlight that dims above. But your limbs grow heavy, your fingers turn bloated and blue, and your head is spinning, spinning, spinning…

A rough hand clamps down on your shoulders and you’re jerked out of the water before the darkness completely takes over your vision.

You break the surface, coughing and spluttering. Your chest heaves violently, sucking in desperate lungfuls of air that you had previously been so cruelly deprived of. The disturbed water sloshes around as you’re pulled onto the surface of a raft, and you collapse to your knees. Spindly fingers anchor themselves against the dried bamboo stakes, unable to let go until you’re steady once again. Your breath releases in sharp heaves, but it’s there, and that’s all that matters.

When the chill finally seeps into your skin, you see everything in pieces: the shadow of a silhouette in the fading moonlight, dark eyes fraught with concern, and frantic hands thrusting a sheet around your trembling body. Panting hard, you find a certain sense of relief when you cut your eyes to the person who stands by your shivering form. The landscape is blurry before you, and a restless energy hums beneath your skin.

“Are you alright?” the man asks you.

You don’t answer him at first. Instead, you swivel your head around as you take in your surroundings. You’re encircled by calm waters, serene despite their previous menace. Ripples lull the boat, and you follow their path to a shore that doesn’t lie too far from where you are now. You can barely make out the bamboo stalks that extend towards the night sky, framed by the gray cliffs that confine the surrounding land within an alcove of shadows.

“Where are we?” you ask him.

“This is Bishui River.”

The name rings with an unknown sense of familiarity, and you repeat it under your breath.

“If you don’t mind me asking,” the man crouches down beside you, “but, what happened to you?”

You wish you could answer him, and when you look down, you notice your hands are shaking. From the frustration of being unable to recall anything or your apparent weakness, you don’t know. It’s like there’s a roadblock in your mind, a screen that reaches from ground to sky that disconnects you from the world around you. Faint sounds plug your ears, memories float across your eyes, and you’re unaware of what you have forgotten. Your past is something hidden, but in this moment you cannot fathom what it might be.

“I don’t know,” you whisper. You ball your hands into fists, knuckles blanching and fingernails digging deep into your palms as you turn to glower at the waters below. A sharp pain lances through your skin, but you don’t release them. All you can do is tell him your name.

“I see,” he hums, and you look towards him, whose cloak reveals a subtle beard of black hair and callous hands - working hands. There are wicker baskets that lie adjacent to his feet, filled with scavenged fish and herbs, carrots and sunsettias. “I stopped using my real name a long time ago. You can just call me Jiangxue.”

Your eyes narrow, but you don’t lose focus. Your nature is to piece this puzzle together: a fisherman out in the dead of night, an unknown land that is strangely familiar, and you, a person composed of seafoam who was pulled to the surface with nothing but a name. You admit that that’s what bewilders you most, but you suck in a breath and push the thought away.

“There’s a village near here. I can take you there if you’d like,” Jiangxue speaks when your silence persists. His eyes glance towards your figure before quickly looking away. A cough catches somewhere between his lungs and his throat. “It consists of amiable folk. You should be able to persuade them into getting you some clothing.”

You look down at his words, and your throat drops to your stomach when you find your bare skin on display. A hypodermic heat rushes to your face, and you wrap the thin sheet tighter around your naked body.

“I … uh … sorry,” you manage to sputter out, bowing your chin down to your chest as if the simple action alone could erase all traces of embarrassment. “I hadn’t realized.”

“It’s no matter,” he affirms, paddling towards the land.

It begins to rain once the raft reaches the shore, and an argentine fluorescence seeps from the sky. The drops plummet from the sky, rapid and ruthless. As you step onto the bank, you find that the mossy ground is damp and sodden, a deep green pigmentation that indicates the fallen rain as a usual occurrence. Jagged stones press uncomfortably into your heels, and you can feel the way the air stills around you.

You don’t understand why these plains seem so disorienting, why the soft susurration of the leaves feel so heavy in your ears. This stupor comes alongside that previous sense of familiarity - an ambient nostalgia for a native land that you yearn to experience once again. There’s an entwining reassurance, distant childhood memories, and the comforts of home. Perhaps one day you will find out why.

When you see the man step off of his raft in an attempt to follow you, you stop him with the shake of your head.

“I’m fine from here on out,” you say before you can even make sense of the words. “I know my way there.”

Skeptical of your proclamation, he raises an eyebrow.

“Dawn will be here soon, you should return to fishing before the world wakes up.”

“You misunderstand,” he says, walking towards you nonetheless. “I do not fish for a living. Neither the process nor the result means much of anything to me.”

“Oh,” you frown. “Is it just a way to pass time, then?”

“Precisely that.” And then he smiles, reaching out his hand and placing it on yours. When he retracts, you find a sunsettia placed into the cocoon of your palm, accompanied by a glowing ornament composed of Varunada Lazurite. There’s a delicate swirl–like design imprinted in the middle of the gem, and your breath catches in your throat when you realize what it is: a Hydro Vision. It must have resurfaced alongside you.

You wish to thank him, but you can not find the voice to do so.

“Safe travels,” Jiangxue says. He turns away, only walking a few steps before he pauses entirely. He opens his mouth, and a look crosses his face then as if he doesn’t know what to say.

“Yes?” you ask of him. “What is it?”

He still doesn’t speak, and you watch as he unclips the cloak from around his waist, slipping it off his arms and rolling it within itself. He hands you the bundle of cloth.

“O-Oh,” you stutter, waving your hands in front of you. “I couldn’t possibly. You have given me far too much.”

“You are cold,” is all he says. “Take it.”

“Really, I don’t-”

“I implore you. Please take it.”

There’s something in his voice then, a plea that is all too unfitting for the composed man before you. Unable to fight against his wishes, you timidly reach forward and remove the article from his grasp.

“There should be no monsters to block your path,” Jiangxue says. “He has made sure of it.”

There is nothing to stop the bewilderment that illustrates your face.

“He?” you question, but the fisherman’s back is turned to you. Befuddled, you do not say anything more, and the quietude encroaches in.

Somewhere in the near distance, a bird squalls — the only sound to penetrate the silence. Jiangxue moves back onto his raft, situating a paddle between the calloused texture of his hands. You don’t wait to watch him leave, instead bowing your head in a display of gratitude before pivoting on your heel and weaving through the clotted bamboo.

When you are certain that you are adequately hidden, the soaked-through sheet that had previously found home on your shoulders falls to the floor. You cinch the cloak that Jiangxue gifted you around your body, and the linen cocoons your body heat comfortably. Pocketing your Vision and the sunsettia, you pluck the sheet from off the ground, and begin to walk forward once more.

It’s not a long trek, that much you can recall, but when you reach the edge of the village, you find that the world has flung itself over and a new sun breaks the horizon. It’s a nectarine-sweet sky, mingling above the mountain that cradles the abundant crop lands within its embrace. You cross the bridge over the terraced fields of crops and wildflowers, inching closer to the livening village. It remains peaceful and quiet all the same, even as its occupants begin to stir.

This isn’t a place that receives many guests, that much you can affirm, despite the boundless beauty the land withholds. The rising sun embraces your skin, silky and warm, and even the rough texture of the stairs beneath your feet seems to hold a fount of comfort within themselves. You can hear the hummingbirds philandering with the flowers, their birdsong coming in lulls and bursts. The aromatic hints of Jueyun Chili and Violetgrass invade upon the atmosphere, inspiring a warmth to pool within your stomach.

It’s when you near the top of the stone path that you can make sense of a hunched figure beneath the strung lanterns, still lit despite the day’s arrival. She paces from side to side, graceful in her steps regardless of the aged lines that sculpt her face, on display due to her gray hair tucked in a low bun. As if sensing your presence, she stops, the green of her dress swiveling with her movements as she pivots on her heel to face you.

“My dear,” she calls, as if she has known you all this time. “Welcome to Qingce Village. Why don’t you take a walk with me?”

The elderly lady nods her head towards the courtyard, and there you can see a conglomeration of buildings that frame the square, constructed of wood and bamboo stalks. Fruit stands are tucked into corners, and a little ways down, a water mill sits adjacent to a bridge, converging with the path that leads further up the mountain. From nearby, the sound of a waterfall marginally emerges above the noises of early morning, and a rush of wistfulness overwhelms your entire being.

“Have you been aware that I would come?” you ask as you step beside her. She leads you towards the bridge.

A small smile sets apart her lips. “You must know we have quite the accumulation of spies here.”

A look of confoundment overtakes your features, and before you can request her to explain any further, a muffled chorus of giggles is heard from behind you. When you turn around, three pairs of eyes stare curiously at your form, and petite hands latch onto the edges of the cart that the children hide behind.

“I was not aware that I’d been under surveillance.”

“Outsiders are rather rare here,” the elderly woman muses, turning her head to where you gaze. “Of course, they still have a lot to learn.”

A sense of amusement flutters within your chest.

“Might I inquire as to why you have come?” she asks you.

The question momentarily startles you, although you reason that it is not unexpected. Attempting to grasp at your thoughts, you press your teeth down onto your lip, and all answers that are brought to mind prove insufficient to her question.

She must notice your inner turmoil, because she provides a reassuring expression before speaking: “It is fine if you do not wish to indulge me. We all have things we wish to keep to ourselves.”

“It’s not that. It’s just … how do I put this?” you reply, taking a grounding breath before voicing further. “There are many memories before this morning that have escaped me, including the answer to your inquiry. Although, I do suppose I hoped that I might be able to acquire some assistance here.”

She seems to contemplate your words, and stops walking just before your feet make contact with the bridge. A middle-aged woman appears in your periphery then, raising her hand in greeting to the lady beside you, the other arm slung over a wicker basket that rests on her hip. She must be preparing for a day's worth of field work, you presume.

“I see. Let us go somewhere more private. We will converse there,” she says. “And perhaps we might find you some more suitable clothes.”

She leads you to a building that rests on a wedge below the peak of the mountain. It’s certainly the largest structure of the village, composed of wooden posts and joists to encircle the open space. A shallow pond borders the front entrance, lotus heads and lily pads peaking above its glassy surface. The inside is completely exposed to the external environment, and from here, you can make out the entirety of the village. Nonetheless, being under a roof grants you a gratifying sense of privacy.

With a fragile hand on the small of your back, the lady leads you to a painted screen wall that rests off–center of the building, framed by wooden beams. It’s a picture of the mountain, you promptly recognize, with streaks of orange and blue that appear to glow in the morning light. She gently encourages you behind it, and you don’t realize that there is a set of garments in her other hand before she’s pushing them into your own.

“There is no one around to see,” she says, as if sensing your hesitation, and leaves you to your own.

Once the woman rounds the corner, you make haste in removing the cloak, slipping on the pants that tighten at your waist. The silk laced fabric flares out to brush at your ankles, and the cerulean trimmed edges barely graze upon the ground. The main portion is a dark umber, much like the short sleeved shirt given to you, with stitched decals of ochre and blue. It takes you longer than you’d like to admit to bind the fastenings down your chest.

There is no mirror nearby, but you are gently pleased by the choice in fabrics. You run your fingers over the material, feeling the ridges, the needlework, and the cotton–like texture. You know you’re in no position to experience such a luxury at the given moment, but you also have no entitlement to brush off such a thing. Your body hums with gratitude, and you step out from behind the wall.

The elderly lady seems to be equally as pleased, as she sends you a tight–lipped smile. From where her hands are clasped behind your back, she motions towards the chairs that circle the center of the building, fringing on the carmine painted engraving of a flower–like design. You take a seat.

“Might I ask your name?” You are the first to speak.

“You may call me Granny Ruoxin,” she muses. “I do apologize if it isn’t too lively around here, but life is pleasant here, and I hope you find a sense of enjoyment within the village.”

You learn forward, eager. “You mean it? I can stay?”

She nods, and it’s like the Universe has bursted into light. “There is plenty of room. You may stay until you are certain of where your journey will take you.”

A glint from the sun sparks your gaze, and you watch as Granny Ruoxin moves to sit beside you. Her movements are leisurely, hands crossed–hatched with scars reaching down to clasp yours in her own, and you dare to wonder of all the ways in which your life is about to unfold.

hello! i hope you enjoyed this. it’s my first time posting something genshin related on tumblr, so feedback is greatly appreciated. <3

additionally, i am considering making a tag list for this story, so if you are interested please message me!!

also! you can read it here on a03!

[hobidreams]

october 1869.

have you been mistaken all along?

pairing: joseon king!yoongi x reader genre: drama words: 1.2k contains: a shattering.

moonlit throne index. this is drabble 25. start from the beginning?

“Have you been busy today?”

The king asks this as soon as he steps into your chambers, casually kicking off the furled leaf clinging to the bottom of his shoe on the wood outside. The late October wind has lately been littering the palace grounds with the last remnants of summer as most of the plants prepare for their hibernation.

You bow as you watch him cross the space with as much ease as he would his own room, having spent so much time here in the past year. And the question he posed to you as greeting? It would be strange if he had not fallen into the habit of asking it some weeks ago, taking an unexpected interest that is making you steadily feel more and more comfortable with him even though you should be keeping him as far as you possibly can.

(Wasn’t it better when he treated this like an empty affair? Wasn’t that what he wanted?)

The king settles on the edge of the bed as he begins to undo his belt. A singular pat of the blankets beside him indicates that you should join him. And you do, saying, “unfortunately. Two of the cooks accidentally burned themselves today when there was an overflow, and we had just run out of the burn salve, so it was quite frantic. But we managed, and even had dinner prepared without much delay! Though… I was little help in that last part.”

“I remember. You attempted to poison me with yakgwa once.”

“Jeonha! That was an earnest try at making them as a gift!” Nothing more than a besotted young girl’s silly attempt.

He laughs lightly, casually at your protests, the smile that makes you far too fond once again. “I could certainly feel that in every rock-hard bite. Nearly broke my teeth with how earnest they were.” His belt clatters to the floor. “And how are the cooks now?”

“Recovering! And hopefully without much permanent scarring on their hands.”

“Mm. Good.”

Then his own hands are on you, as they always are before long. One slides broadly up over the thin fabric covering your back, fingers spread wide. Another firmly grips your thigh while his head dips low, ready to stake claim to your neck with his lips, the smile still stretched faintly across them. He now knows exactly how to make your breath hitch with just a few strokes. How to have you moaning, whimpering into his ear like his needy woman with the slightest skim of his fingertips over your skin.

Even though the warmth he sparked only blazes higher at his touch, you cannot be carried away. Not just yet.

“Ah, j-jeonha. Please wait.”

You gently ease back, and that is enough to make him pause. He gives you a questioning look, as you’ve never interrupted him like this before.

“It is nearly November,” you murmur.

“I am in possession of a calendar, yes.”

“No, um.” You stare down at your hands. “What I mean is… Daebi-mama. Her birthday… It will be soon.”

You’ve never once broached the subject of the late queen with him in all this time and it instantly feels like a mistake when he stiffens. Yanks his hands back to his own lap, away from you.

You force yourself to go on. “I—I wish to visit her. That is, her tomb… And burn incense. Since it is not too far away that we could feasibly return within the day, I thought it could be nice i-if you wish, jeonha? If you might, perhaps, possibly, like to come with me on that day, together?” The nervous words end up tumbling out all at once, a mess of syllables but at least they’re out. The thoughts have hung heavy on your mind for so many weeks.

He is mute.

Stares at you for long seconds until his brow furrows. His expression draws in so violently that the glare could rival the chill battering against the windows.

“You… Who do you think I am?”

Your mouth falls open at the anger simmering in his voice, groping for words in response but you can’t find them. With a single sentence, you are thrown back into the queen’s chamber, into that awful June day, where you stood at an absolute loss. Vulnerable, and scared. An entire year’s worth of feelings and experiences ago, but the cruel look he gives you now feels the exact same as it did then.

He scoffs. “You think… Honestly, you imagine I have time for such dalliances? To halt an entire day’s worth of business to do such a matter?”

“But the queen—”

“It is frivolous.” His teeth snap together. “Completely unnecessary.”

“J-Jeonha—”

“No. No. It’s ridiculous of you to even suggest it. I have absolutely no need for such a public display that only shows the people how weak and susceptible their king is. I will not lose all that I have earned.”

“I just thought—”

“No.” He stands up altogether in a flurry of fabric, glaring at you down his nose. “No matter what you have thought, that is final.” His hands are tight fists and he’s already sauntering towards the exit.

Your mouth feels numb even as you mumble, stuttering over the words, “a king can have emotions. Can have grief.” But he doesn’t hear. He’s already closed off his ears and, you think, you dread, his heart.

Without a single look further in your direction, he pauses just the once to sweep his belt off the floor and then he’s gone.

This is the first time since last November that he has come to you and left without indulging himself in your body. While you once so fervently wished he would come for the pleasure of your company alone, you didn’t want it like this. Never like this.

You took a risk, and this is where it has left you: reminded of where your place is in this world, in his world. Alone, you let your body fall onto the bed, one palm pressed to the sheets where his heat remains faintly still.

The door flies open, slamming into its frame as the king explodes into his room.

“Jeonha, you’ve returned early?”

Eunuch Kim is in the midst of tidying up some papers as he was instructed before the king left for Hamhwadang Hall. His confused question is answered with a vicious scowl, one that bodes only awful things, and would have made a weaker man shrink back if the he were not already long used to such vitriol. Even if it hasn’t been aimed in his direction for some time now, and Eunuch Kim had let himself believe that he would perhaps never see it with such intense fury again.

“Leave.”

“I have not yet laid out your schedule for Novem—”

Yoongi’s snarl grows even more prominent as he cuts the man off. “Leave. Get out. I don’t want the schedule right now. Just get out!”

Left with no choice, Eunuch Kim bows and quits the room. His heart feels stifling as he walks down the corridor, wondering just what the hell happened with uinyeo-nim to eradicate the rare, pleasant mood the king had left in. Just what, that has undone so many months of quiet, welcome change in an instant.

[ilyrafe]

𝒓𝒆𝒅𝒂𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒚 ✧ 𝒄𝒉. 𝑰

pairing: charles brandon x f!reader

warnings: angst, brief mention of non-con sex (it’s really brief trust me nothing happens!!), slow burn.

word count: 1,1k

taglist: @runawayolives @kmuir1 @marytudorbrandon @lharrietg @shittingdicknipple @alexa-fangirl-forever

redamancy masterlist | main masterlist

the sweet yet somber piano notes echo subtly through the halls, which intrigues charles — who is playing the piano? and why so late? not that he is bothered, the music is mesmerizing.

the preparations for the wedding are in full steam. in two days, he will be a married man for the second time. he has little knowledge about his bride. all he knows is that she is a young woman who avoids him at all costs and her name. deep down, he feels a tad guilty for knowing that for the rest of her life, she will be unhappy with him, but there is nothing else to be done, political interest is worth much more than love.

before going to his room, the music gets louder, so charles changes his path and goes to the piano room, where the yet unknown person is. quietly, he opens the door and sneaks in, careful so he doesn’t interrupt them.

it’s her.

she is playing the piano so calmly, her fingers slide over the keys with ease. she looks serene, in fact, he never saw her smile, and she is genuinely smiling with the music that her fingers play. charles can’t move, he just sits down and enjoys the music.

the song ends, and she closes the piano as delicately as possible.

“you have a gift.” he breaks the silence.

she is startled by the voice behind her, but she composes herself in seconds. charles sees the smile on her lips fall. it is clear how much she insists on showing that the presence of her future husband is unwanted on her part.

“thank you.” she mumbles, avoiding his gaze. “my apologies, i assumed no one would hear me here.”

he’s still getting used to the sound of her voice — thin and delicate. they barely speak to each other, and they’re about to be husband and wife. she’s agile enough to stand up and head to the door, but the duke feels the urge to intervene.

“please, don’t go. i enjoyed listening, you are indeed gifted.”

for the first time, they both look at each other. she had avoided even looking at him, just so as not to lose control of her anger, and at first glance, he doesn’t seem mean. he’s actually quite good looking, his eyes look tender, but she would never let herself get lost in those baby blues.

“this is your home now, you are free to do whatever you wish to.” he continues.

free. everything about the situation feels anything but freeing. y/n can’t seem to digest his response as every word that comes out of his mouth sounds false. anything charles does resembles an attempt to romance her, and it disgusts her enormously.

“thank you.”

y/n tries to leave again, but charles stops her once more, causing her to take a deep breath, still trying to maintain her composure. much is at stake, the direct connections of her family and her future husband to the insane king terrifies her.

there is a barrier between them, one that she herself raised before she even saw him for the first time, when she arrived at the castle. her silence spoke volumes and right then, charles knew he was dealing with something much more difficult. however, he is not one to stop trying when the first adversity appears.

“i would like to… get to know you, perhaps?”

realizing that she will have no other alternative but to talk to the duke, she sits on the piano bench, where she previously was, and charles returns to his place. the distance between them is much more metaphorical than physical, and charles can’t hide that he is somewhat bothered by it. perhaps it’s his ego being hurt, he’s never had a woman reject him the way she has, and as challenging as it is to admit, he feels intimidated by y/n.

“what do you want to know?” she asks.

“um… what are your favorite activities?”

“reading.” she promptly answers. “riding horses and playing the piano, of course.”

“oh, yes, of course. i’ve been told you speak a few languages.” he points out, and she simply nods. “um, i don’t know if you are aware, but the groom is supposed to gift the bride with jewelry before the wedding… which is of your personal preference?”

“i don’t mind. whichever you pick will do.”

her reluctance distresses him, but he can’t act on it. he feels the need to be patient with her, give her time and space.

“do you have any questions for me?” he asks, in hopes that she feels comfortable.

“i know who you are.” she states, and charles is puzzled. “you’ve bedded some of my dearest friends.”

he doesn’t know where to look, because he’s ashamed to hear it from his future wife. he is not proud of his past, and having to hear it from who will become the mother of his children in the near future is certainly difficult. it hurts.

“i…”

“can you imagine how thrilled i was when my father told me i was promised to the man who my friends, plural, have been with?”

“i was young and reckless-” he admits.

“i don’t mind, charles.” she shrugs. “it doesn’t mean anything to me if you have other women in your bed or not.” he frowns at her statement. she speaks with such indifference, it scares him a bit. “i’ll never love you. in two days, you might have me as you had most women, but my heart will never be yours, as i belong to another man.”

the coldness in her voice makes him feel helpless, and it would be better to be punched in the face than to hear that his future wife loves someone else.

what charles doesn’t understand yet is that y/n is just as a force as he is.

“i won’t do anything you don’t want me to.”

“if that were to be true, i wouldn’t be here, we wouldn’t be engaged. having you fuck me against my will is the smallest of problems for me at this point, charles.”

the lack of modesty in her words surprises him. she really is not who he thought she was, and he cannot deny that he is uncertain about his future. having control running away from him is not something he likes to feel - nobody does - but she does it so easily, only words are needed to make him feel threatened.

“we don’t need to be enemies, y/n.”

“i don’t intend to be friends either.” she states. “if you don’t mind, i wish i could use the library and this room to pass the time. my horse will arrive in a few days, i will not use any of yours to ride.”

“you’re free to do anything you wish to.” he reaffirms.

“i’m anything but free.” she fakes a smile and gets up to leave, but she feels the need to make one last request. “since we are being honest to each other, after the wedding, i’d rather be alone. you can fuck someone else.”

with these words, she leaves charles with his own mind and threatened ego.

—

feedback is always appreciated!

[sunflowers-and-cecilias]

overworked -> aether x reader

----------

in which aether needs to learn to take better care of himself.

> no warnings!! just fluff involving a sick aether

> not my proudest work, i will say, but i just wanted to write something stake-free after the break i took. whoo!

----------

in your time traveling with Aether, you've learned a handful of things:

1. he is the doting type. be it in regards to his sister, the people he assists with the guild, you, he is unstoppably affectionate. he genuinely wants to help and it makes him shine brighter than the sun in the sky.

2. he's very expressive. poker face? what is that...? Aether's eyes express emotions that you didn't even know existed, and it never fails to pull your heartstrings. you feel his joy, his sorrow, his rage, everything. all it takes is a look.

3. he's incredibly accomplished. skilled in every sense of the word, be it in the bit of forgery he's picked up, the alchemy, his combat prowessー he's a pretty decent cook too. you can't help but feel like you can rely on him, and neither can everyone else who comes into contact with him.

the list continues to grow every millisecond you spend with him. perhaps you're particularly attentive to him, even more so after establishing an intimate relationship with him... or maybe he's so captivating that you simply cannot help but to notice more and more when he walks by.

Aether is a lot of things, hardworking is one of them.

...correction, Aether is a lot of things, downright foolish is one of them. he's got tunnel vision on his tasks more often than not, and while he's good at them, you'd have to be blind to not think that he's a little in over his head.

you're so used to it that you barely notice it at first. but this time, you're traveling in Liyue, trying to find some materials for a commission. today alone, you've cleared out three treasure hoarder camps, four hillichurl camps, and fought a total of six abyss mages. it's only just turning evening. Aether is charging ahead as if nothing can stop him. you believe him.

you took a break a bit ago, so you think it's fine, but the way he swings his sword is just a bit more sluggish than normal.

you're fighting a pyro regisvine when Aether briefly mentions feeling a chillー

...you look at him for a solid three seconds and take in something you didn't notice.

his eyes are sunken, dark circles slowly climbing under his sunny orbs, his face is red. in all honesty, you just thought it was because you haven't been able to keep your eyes off of him, and he does have a habit of getting embarrassed and looking away. as he has been doing all day. you realize that he might, and just theoretically might, be ashamed rather than startled by your gaze. you decide to test your theory-

you stride over to him as the flower falls onto the ground, and place your hand on his forehead without a word.

" [n-name]...? what are you- "

" you're sick. you're burning up. "

" what? no... no i'm not? "

you're closer now, so you see more.

his speech is slightly slurred, his eyes are glassy and he fights a sneeze while he backs away from your gaze.

" you so are. "

" ... "

" why didn't you say something? come on, we're going to lay you down right now. there's a waypoint nearby, we'll go to the inn from there. "

he's barely listening to you, his mind foggy. he's been like this for a while, but... he figured it wasn't so bad. it'd go away within the hour. it did not. continued overexertion made it worse. he's too stubborn and determined to stop.

you continue to drag him away despite his quiet, jumbled protests.

you're quick to pull a slightly wobbly Aether into the inn, offering Verr Goldet a smile with furrowed brows before fishing just enough mora out of your bag for a two-or-so night stay. she tosses you a knowing look, and leads the two of you to an empty room. she offers to bring some soup and water. you start to say you can get it yourself, but... Aether sends you a pout with a look in his eyes that might as well say, " you dragged me here, you can't just leave me! "

it's quiet for a moment after she leaves. you sigh into your hands. Aether has trouble making eye contact.

" ...can we- save the lecture for later-?"

" maybe. "

" come on i... really didn't think it'd get this bad. "  all you do is huff in response.

" and why didn't Paimon say anything? where even is she-? "

" ... "

" ... "

" Good Hunter. "

" you didn't pay her off. don't tell me you did that. "

" i-i didn't think it'd get this bad! "

that elicits another groan. you resolve to deal with your boyfriend when he doesn't need the damp towel on his forehead. with a grumble, you pick up his nearby hand. he slowly turns to look at you, confusion crossing his face.

" don't worry me like that. "

" it's fine, rea- "

you cut him off with a squeeze, unable to stop your thumb from oh so slightly digging into his palm.

" please? "

he can't compete with the concern in your eyes and voice. he just nods. you continue, attempting to be brief. though, you can't keep yourself from worrying.

" you should take better care of yourself, you know? you can't keep running on steam and not stopping for water... "

he's asleep in the middle of your speech, and all you can do is let out what feels like your eight-hundredth sigh of the day. you give his cheek a peck before starting to stand. the second you start to loosen your grip on his hand, however, he's quietly mumbling a "don't go." and who are you to deny his wish?

[obeysme]

Could I request how the brothers would react to mc either stealing or wearing their clothes? I'm sad ,single and really want to steal some clothing so your headcannons are my immediate go to. Lots of love xx♡♡♡

you all know my favourite tropes so well! i went with the brothers’s reaction to both the mc stealing their clothes as well as wearing them, cause i can :^)

* LUCIFER.

there’s no way to steal his clothes without him knowing; lucifer always seems to know when you’re up to something

he’d let you think that you got away with it—you’ve tip-toed to his closet, looked through his immaculately folded clothes, and are reaching for a shirt when a voice from behind asks dryly, “are you looking for something? perhaps i can help you find it.”

he thinks this is your attempt at a prank, or mammon roped you into one of his schemes. so you admitting that you just wanted to wear something of his throws him for a moment, though he hides it well

“next time, all you have to do is ask me,” he tells you, amused. “there’s no need for subterfuge.”

he lets you take the shirt, of course he does; he’s the avatar of pride, so you wearing his clothes around is another way of him staking his claim and letting people know you’re with him

* MAMMON.

he wouldn’t realize that you stole something of his at first, though you’d find out when he did soon enough. he’ll be pounding on asmodeus’s door, shouting, “gimme my favourite jacket back! i know ya have it, asmo!”

you race out of your room to placate mammon, telling him that asmodeus doesn’t have it, you’re the one who took his jacket

he isn’t paying much attention to what you’re saying, his gaze trained on the garment that you’re wearing. his brain can’t compute the sight of you in his clothing

he only tunes in when you tell him that you won’t take his clothes again, in the process of shrugging the jacket off

“no! w…wait a second!” he says, louder than intended. he flushes pink. “y-y-you don’t hafta go that far. just…give me a warning or a heads up, y’know!”

whenever you wear something of his, he’s constantly staring at you, his cheeks warm; he wants to see you in his clothing more often, though he’d deny it vehemently if teased about it

* LEVIATHAN.

his room is his sanctuary, and he makes sure to lock his door whenever he’s out, so there’s no way you’ll be able to sneak clothing of his without levi noticing instantly

you make a valiant effort when he’s busy with one of his video games, his attention solely on his console; he realizes quick that you’re not next to him, watching him play

“hey, normie, where are you going?” he asks, swiveling around in his chair with a scowl. “you could’ve just said i was boring you—”

he cuts himself off mid-rant, because you’re in the middle of shrugging on the shawl jacket that he likes to wear so much

he’s consumed enough media to understand the significance behind you wearing his clothes; he flushes instantly, dropping his controller in his lap to cover his burning face

“omg. i can’t. i literally can’t even. you look too cute in my clothes. i’m gonna combust,” he says, though it’s mostly muffled by his hands

he won’t outright ask you to wear his clothes all the time, he doesn’t want to come off that pathetic, but it’s easy to tell that he’s absurdly pleased every time you do

* SATAN.

it’d be difficult to get into his closet without satan realizing immediately, so instead you set your sights on the blazer he wears often

you bide your time, accompanying him to the library and watching as he takes it off and drapes it over his chair. when he’s busy in the stacks, that’s when you strike

he returns to the table with a few tomes to find you reading your book intently…with his blazer settled over your shoulders, much like one would wear a blanket

“what’s this?” he asks as he sits down, a brow raised. “was there a draft in here, so you decided to take my blazer from me?” he’s sporting a playful smile, so you know he’s not serious

the two of you trade teasing remarks before returning to your books. but often, you can feel the weight of his gaze on you; when you look up, he’s appraising you like you’re a fascinating puzzle he wants to solve

since then, he takes every opportunity to take his blazer off and settle it over his chair, like he’s daring you to take it from him again

if you were to ask about it, he’d freely admit that he likes seeing you in it; in a way, it’s a reminder to him and everyone else who you’re with

* ASMODEUS.

instead of outright stealing his clothes, it was more that you accidentally wore his shirt

it was morning, and though you didn’t have classes that day, you didn’t feel like lounging around in bed all day; having slept in asmo’s room, you dress yourself and freshen up, then shake him awake so the two of you can go get some breakfast

he takes his sweet time getting up, yawning and stretching sinuously, before he greets you with a kiss. it’s when he’s about to swing his legs over the bed that his gaze drops to your chest and he stills

before you can ask what’s wrong, he’s reaching out and tugging you closer, until you’re practically sprawled on top of him

“darling, you look as good as i do in my shirt!” he coos, positively beaming. “is it my birthday today or something? it must be! then, surely you don’t mind if i unwrap my present, right~?”

from then on, he’ll insist on you wearing his clothes and be over the moon if you agree. he’ll even help you put together a nice outfit and show you off to whoever’s around

* BEELZEBUB.

he wouldn’t really notice that you took one of his tops for a while, even if you were sitting casually nearby while wearing it

it’d take some time for him to notice that the hoodie you have on doesn’t fit you and looks real similar to the one he owns; it’s more likely one of his brothers comments on it first, which is when beel catches on

“that’s mine,” he says after a beat. he’s confused. “could you not find any of yours? but i thought you did laundry yesterday…”

even when you explain that, yes, you have your own tops, but you just wanted to wear one of his, he wouldn’t get it. to him there’s nothing that special about sharing clothes, sometimes belphie forgets to do his laundry and snags beel’s clothes for a few days

he won’t stop you from wearing his clothes, though; he doesn’t mind that you do

but one time you borrow his hoodie for a few hours because you’re cold, before giving it back. despite the short time you had with it, it smells like you; his cheeks warm, and his chest feels tight, and—oh

* BELPHEGOR.

he’s prone to messiness, so it isn’t difficult at all for you to swipe one of the sweaters / hoodies that he’s left draped over his armchair or on his bed

he notices immediately that you’re wearing his clothes, his gaze zeroing in on the garment; he’ll blink for a moment, surprised, before asking you about it

“when did you even take that?” is the first thing he blurts out. his tone is level enough, but the pink tinge to his cheeks gives away how flustered belphie actually is

his reaction to your response is hard to read, but when you ask if he wants the hoodie back, he shakes his head immediately. he acts unaffected, like he doesn’t care one way or the other, but his eyes flicker every time you steal his clothes

whenever you wear something of his, he’s clingier than usual; don’t be taken aback if he tugs you to bed and cuddles with you, his nose buried in the space between your neck and shoulder

[justcourttee]

Daminette soulmate au where Damian really doesn’t want a soulmate cuz of the league and Mari doesn’t know why but doesn’t wanna be a burden and just pushes away everything and the class is being horrible and she gets depressed and when Damien realizes he’s just like fuck. I’m in the mood for angst

This one comes with a bit of a trigger wanner, super angsty, at least I tried. There is so mention of suicide, but no description. I don’t want anyone to read unless they feel comfortable knowing that. 

I hope this is something like what you had in mind. 

A Moment Too Late

The first time Damian had heard the voice of his soulmate, he was only six years old. Her indecent squeals distracted him from the oncoming blow earning him a black and blue cheek and a week of cleaning duties for failing to end his opponent. 

He hadn’t let anyone know what had happened, after all, the league had forbidden contact with the outside world, soulmate bonds included. Damian recalled seeing hundreds of men and women die for contacting their soulmates or allowing them to become distractions that led them astray from the League’s mission. Just because he was the grandson of the Demon Head, it didn’t mean anything in regards to the rules. 

So he did his best to block out her thoughts or outbursts, only focusing on his current tasks, silently begging her to block him out as well. It worked for a little while, but as they aged, she seemed to become more observant of his silence. 

He was eleven years old when his mother first discovered that he had been on the receiving end of his soulmate bond. Marinette, as he soon learned, was trying to coax him into a conversation when Damian snapped, begging her to shut up. The very next day, he found himself drugged and on a boat floating in the dock of Gotham City. 

Never once did he blame his mother for his predicament. No, she was just trying to protect him. After all, if his grandfather had found out, Damian would have been beheaded in front of the others. The only one to blame was Marinette. 

The next time she would contact him would be her last. She tried to reach out, ask him if he was okay, but the sentiment only fueled his rage.

“Don’t you get it? I never wanted this bond! I begged you mercilessly to leave it alone. I begged you to shut up, but you just couldn’t could you? I lost everything because of you, you hear me Marinette? If you just would’ve shut your damn mouth, I would still be able to see my mother. I hope you never use this bond again, I never want to hear from you again.”

There was no response, but it didn’t bother him. This was what he wanted for so many years, for her to never utter a sound to him again. It was a blessed day, one filled with silence as he entered Wayne Manor for the very first time. 

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

“Grayson, can you stop mumbling to yourself? You look like an idiot.”

Dick reached back, swatting at where Damian once stood, the goofy smile on his face not wavering. 

“Oh little D, you just don’t understand. If my soulmate wants to talk, I’ll drop everything to take a moment for her.”

“A truly asinine thought, really.”

Damian rolled his eyes as he perched on the edge of the roof, gazing lazily over the darkened city streets. Personally, Damian wasn’t too fond of his brothers using their bonds while on patrol. It was as if they didn’t understand how much of a distraction it could be. No, it was much better to set boundaries, let them know where they stand. 

“Hey little D, have you contacted your soulmate yet?”

Dick squatted beside where Damian was perched, his smile pulling tight as if he already knew the answer to his question. 

“I told you, Grayson, I burned that bridge a long time ago. She hasn’t used the bond since we were eleven and I do not intend to be the first one to break that streak.”

“It sounds like you are too prideful to admit to her that you were wrong.”

“I was not wrong!” Damian could feel the red rising to his cheeks as he turned to avoid Dick’s piercing gaze. “She was the reason I had to leave the league, there is no denying that.”

His voice dropped slightly as he kept his eyes downcast knowing that no matter how many times he told himself that, it only got harder to believe as time passed. 

“Yeah, yeah, same line, less sincerity each time.”

Damian turned, ready to spat a venomous insult when a sudden wave of nauseous hit him like a truck. Doubling over, he could barely make out Dick’s words, the only thing monopolizing his mind was one piercing voice, one he hadn’t heard in years.

“I just want to die! Why won’t you let me die?”

Later, Dick would cry from the fear of the sight of Damian curled tightly on that rooftop, his eyes bloodshot and wide as if he’d seen a ghost. But, in that very moment, he knew that his main priority was to get him back to Alfred in hopes he could figure out any way to save Damian from the haunting phrase that slipped through his lips a hundred times over. 

“It’s all my fault.”

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

It was close to three in the morning when the pain subsided allowing Damian to slip away from the pestering of his family. His movements were still stiff as if he was just a hollow man trying out his own legs for the first time in years. Her words seemed to be stuck on repeat, even though he was sure that she wouldn’t still be muttering them hours later. 

He couldn’t figure out what had happened to leave her at this last attempt. He couldn’t figure out if he should care or not. 

His gut was still throbbing as if he had been stabbed and the wound wasn’t sure if it wanted to be healed. As he slid down onto his favorite bench in the gardens, he remained locked in a fight with himself as to whether he should reach out or not. Hesitantly, he checked his surroundings before drawing in a deep breath concentrating all of his thoughts on her. 

“Are you okay Marinette?”

It was silent. 

Damian let a minute pass and then another. With a sigh of defeat, he closed his eyes pulling his legs into his chest. Of course she wouldn’t answer, it had been years of silence and carrying the guilt that he so carelessly placed on her.

 Shaking his head, he gingerly lifted it to allow his chin to rest on his knee. No, maybe he was a small part of her problem, but she couldn’t have banked her entire existence on a soulmate. Just what had happened to her over all these years. Certainly, he had been through worse, but even as the words crossed his mind he could hear Dick chiding him, reminding him that everyone carries burdens differently.

“I do not know if you can hear me, but I wanted to apologize for my outburst so many years ago. I blamed you for a lifestyle I was born into and that wasn’t right. Please, I’d like to start again, Even if it’s just as friends.”

The biting wind of the night nipped at his bare arms as if it were her answer itself. She obviously wanted nothing to do with him. Just as he stood to leave, a soft voice tickled the back of his head, so quiet that he almost missed the harsh words. 

“I don’t have friends or family, hell, I don’t even have a soulmate who wants me. Don’t bother trying now. I’m sorry if my emotions got the better of me earlier, but it was no guilt trip and I don’t need your pity. I just want to be gone and leave Paris a brighter city for it.”

Damian could feel the wheel’s turning at the mention of her home. A private plane could make it to Paris in just six hours. She might not want his pity and he wasn’t sure if he had any to give, but one thing was for certain; he could not let her die no matter what she wanted. 

“What will you be doing in six hours?”

His heart was racing a mile a minute as he waited desperately for her response. 

“I’ll be leaving school I suppose.”

Damian couldn’t stop the smile that pulled at his lips as he turned toward the manner, racing at full speed. 

Six hours. He could meet her in six hours. He could change her life in six hours. 

He couldn’t even focus on his clothes as they lay strewn across his bed, each missing his suitcase as he tore through his closet. Six hours felt like a lifetime knowing the stakes, but it was something he had to try. Even if he had to scour the entire city, Damian would find his soulmate. 

He just hoped that he wouldn’t arrive a moment too late.

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