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2023 vs 2016
So a thing I don't share much about my art: when I started drawing in 2010, I exclusively drew Sonic OCs. I didn't touch humans until I had this human based AU with some friends, which I'll be real with you, I remember nothing about. What I didn't realize is that one, it's been 7 years since my first attempt at humans, and two, my most recent take on this character was drawn around the same time as the first attempt in terms of the month and date. XD Happy coincidence.
I dug up the old art last night and had a lot of feelings about it. Like wow, look at that! I'm doing pretty alright for myself! It's very true that we as artists are our own worst critics, but you know something? Looking back at the old, I can see some things that I did okay on. I've grown and learned more of the language to be able to do what I want to do, and that's a really good feeling.
Vibrance is very important to me. She's one of those characters that's been with me for a long time, she's grown with me into someone really beautiful. When I look at her now, I'm proud of her, I know how far she's come because we hiked that together. And even if I don't draw her as much as I used to, she's still pretty awesome. We're pretty awesome. Up top girlfriend!
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Mortal Astarion X F! Human Tav. Ummm, angst.👀
For decades, this manor offered him a place to call home in the truest sense.
The hallway was a sacred gallery, adorned with paintings that were not mere canvases, but tangible echoes of their life together. Each brushstroke, lovingly rendered by her hand, captured the essence of cherished memories.
Whenever he opened the door at the end of the hallway, he was greeted by the radiant smile of his beloved, and the hearth beckoned him to surrender to its comforting embrace. Yet, it was the vast window next to it that held the greatest significance. The tender caress of sunlight danced across his skin as he lost himself in the pages of a book beside her. It was here, bathed in the golden rays, that he could truly revel in the miracle she had bestowed upon him – the cure to his vampiric curse, a gift of life, a reminder of the depths of her love and the power it held to transcend even the most insurmountable of boundaries.
Here at home, he had found everything his heart desired.
But nothing is ever truly perfect. Life simply doesn't work that way. Even the mightiest of fortresses cannot withstand the relentless march of time.
He thought he was ready for it, but not like this.
Never like this.
_________
The poem cited is "When You Are Old" BY W.B. Yeats. One of my favorites.❤️
Alright, thanks for reading the second installment of my "this did not really happen to my couple". After delving into the mortality of my Tav, Amaara, I found myself confronting a fear more profound than death itself – the fear of morbidity, of life's vibrancy fading before its inevitable end. So I decided to yank my CP around this theme. Self-indulgence at its finest.😊
#Halsin is my CP's family doctor =)#long post#Alzheimer's#astarion comic#astarion romance#astarion fanart#astarion#bg3 fanart#baldur's gate 3#baldurs gate 3 fanart#bg3#baldurs gate 3#clip studio paint#procreate#ink and wash#bg3 comic#tavstarion#amaara ashvale
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⋆˙⟡ — TANGLED FATES
pairing: kinich, kaedehara kazuha, wanderer x reader
cw: soulmates! au. characters may look ooc. approximately 3k words. no pronouns mentioned though "my lady" is said in kazuha's part. fluffy, angsty, lovely. not beta-read.
reblogs and comments are appreciated ♡
Kinich
Kinich had always felt a subtle pull toward something—or someone—just beyond his reach.
From the moment he was born, the thread that connected him to his soulmate had been a delicate shade of translucent red, often fading to the point of nearly vanishing. It was a constant reminder of the distance between them, a tangible sign that his soulmate was far away, perhaps even in another nation.
The people of Natlan revered the concept of soulmates, believing that every thread was woven by the hands of fate itself. Kinich, however, was not the type to wander beyond his homeland in search of this elusive connection. The rugged beauty of his tribe, the thrill of hunting, and the camaraderie of his people grounded him. He found comfort in the familiar rhythms of his life, though sometimes, during quiet moments beneath the canopy of the trees or while gazing at the stars, the thought of his soulmate would flutter in his mind like a restless bird.
Yet today was different.
As Kinich navigated the vibrant festival of the Scions of the Canopy, filled with laughter and the smell of roasted meats mingling with the sweetness of ripe fruit, he couldn’t shake a strange sensation. He glanced down at the red string on his finger, and to his surprise, it was brighter than he had ever seen—deep crimson, like the fiery sunsets that painted the sky at twilight. The sudden vibrancy sent a jolt of energy through him, and his heart raced with possibilities. For the very first time, it felt that his soulmate was closer than he had ever imagined.
The thought barely settled in his mind when a commotion broke out nearby. Kinich turned to see a crowd gathered around the bungee jumping platform, a popular attraction that had people leaping into the air with exhilarating abandon. The sight of the participants soaring through the sky brought a fainted smile to his face—until he noticed one figure preparing for a jump.
His heart seemed to stop as he caught sight of you, your hair whipping in the wind, laughter mingling with the cheers of the crowd. You appeared fearless, but as the countdown began, Kinich noticed something off: the rope seemed frayed, a dangerous instability in an otherwise thrilling endeavor. Panic surged through him as the countdown reached zero.
Before his mind could catch up to his body, he reacted. The faintest snapping sound echoed in his ears as the bungee cord gave way—a horrified gasp echoed from the crowd, but Kinich was already in motion. With a practiced flick of his grappling hook, he shot toward you, the hook catching a solid anchor just as you fell.
In the heartbeat between falling and impact, you felt a strong arm wrap around your waist, jerking you from the void. Time seemed to slow as the world spun and your eyes locked onto his—the man who had saved your life.
Kinich landed gracefully with you in his arms, his grip steady and reassuring as if it were second nature. As the adrenaline pulsed through you, your heart raced not just from the near-death experience, but from the realization that your strings—both of yours—were now glowing vividly, a striking red.
The connection between you was undeniable, even if the situation was surreal.
“That was... close,” you murmured, still catching your breath, your voice trembling with disbelief.
Kinich’s usual nonchalance wavered momentarily as his eyes lingered on yours. He gently set you down, his hand brushing against yours as the string on his pinky tightened, pulling you two together subtly but magnificently. “You’re either very brave or very reckless,” he said, his voice low but calm, the faintest trace of amusement playing on his lips.
You couldn’t help but smile, even through the lingering adrenaline. “Maybe a little of both.”
He let out a quiet hum, stepping back slightly but not breaking eye contact. “Seems I’ll have to keep an eye on you, then.”
Before you could respond, a pitched voice cut through the air. “No! I though you’d finally gonna get yourself killed, Kinich. Shit! It seems I was wrong again.”
Kinich’s eyes narrowed slightly, and he muttered under his breath, “You wish.”
You blinked, wondering where the voice came from and noticing the sudden change in his demeanor, but before you could ask, Kinich’s focus returned to you. His intense gaze softened as he extended a hand, offering it to you with an unexpected formality. “It seems fate has brought us together in the most dramatic of ways.”
You laughed softly, the tension easing. “Seems that way. And here I thought I’d get a thrill from jumping, not falling.”
“There are safer thrills,” he answered, his hand still holding yours dearly. “One that doesn’t involve falling from cliffs.”
You bit your bottom lip in a failed attempt to hide a smirk, the soft flirtation in his voice making your heartbeats go faster. “Oh? Like what?”
He let his gaze linger on yours, his thumb gently tracing the back of your hand. “Perhaps we’ll find out together.”
The red string between you entwined, as if urging the two of you closer. For the first time in a long while, Kinich felt more than just duty or the thrill of a adventuring—he felt the warmth of something that had been distant for too long.
And for you, the world around you seemed to quiet as the only thing that mattered now was the connection between you and the man fate had quite literally sent to catch you.
Kaedehara Kazuha
From the moment of birth, the faintest whispers of your soulmate begin to form in your mind, weaving through your thoughts, and growing clearer with time. The voices aren’t constant, but they drift in and out, as if carried on a breeze, reminding you of the presence of someone far away yet intimately close. Sometimes, it's a word spoken aloud, a laugh shared with a friend. Other times, it’s a fleeting thought, as private as a breath. And from childhood, this voice becomes an indelible part of your life, a companion whose face you have never seen but whose soul you know deeply.
Kazuha was still a boy when he first heard the voice. He was playing alone in the gardens of his family’s estate, surrounded by the quiet rustle of leaves and the gentle murmur of the wind. And then, as soft as a whisper, he heard it—a voice that wasn’t his own.
It was delicate, like the sound of water trickling over smooth stones. A voice so pure it carried the sweetness of a lullaby. At first, he thought it was part of the wind, some trick of the breeze, but as the days went on, the voice returned. Sometimes it sang, sometimes it hummed a tune that was unfamiliar yet soothing. And when it spoke, Kazuha listened, enchanted by the rhythm of the words, even if they weren’t meant for him.
Years passed, and the voice became a familiar presence in his life. He learned to recognize its tones—the way it brightened when it was happy, or softened when the person behind it was lost in thought. Even when he left the security of his childhood home, embarking on his wandering journey, the voice followed him. It was a constant companion, a tether that connected him to something beyond the world he knew.
The voice belonged to an opera singer from Fontaine, though Kazuha would only come to know this much later. As children, you’d hear each other speak, often unaware of the impact your words were having on the other side of the world. You’ve been singing since you were small, your voice a bright light in the waterside streets of Fontaine, and Kazuha had come to love the sound of it—first as a soothing melody in the background of his thoughts, and later as a force that brought him comfort during his travels. He could sense your emotions through your voice—the joy you found in your craft, the occasional frustration in your rehearsals, and the quiet moments when you’d murmur your thoughts to yourself.
You, too, had been listening to him. From the first haikus he had whispered into the wind as a child, to the quiet contemplations of a young man growing into his own. Though Kazuha was never one to speak much, the moments when he’d recite poetry or talk to the wind were enough to fill your heart with a sense of companionship. His voice, calm and steady, was a comfort to you as you navigated your own world of art and performance.
Neither of you knew exactly who the other was, but your voices had become a part of each other. Even without a meeting, you had grown up together—two souls connected by the invisible threads of fate.
As Kazuha grew older, his understanding of the voice deepened. He’d often find himself drifting off to sleep, only to wake with the faint echoes of your songs still lingering in his ears. He marveled at how perfectly your voice blended with the world around him—the wind, the sea, and the rustling of leaves in the forests he wandered. Your voice had become a song in the symphony of his life, and he cherished it.
For you, his words were like the poetry he often whispered to himself—a gentle, constant reminder that somewhere out there was someone who understood the world the way you did. You often wondered what he looked like, what kind of person could speak so softly yet carry so much meaning in his words.
Years passed, and though your connection remained strong, you never rushed to meet. There was no urgency, no desperation. Just the quiet understanding that one day, you’d find each other.
It wasn’t until Kazuha’s travels led him to Fontaine that your worlds finally began to merge. The hydro nation was a place where the beauty of the arts and the depths of the sea intertwined. Kazuha had no intention of seeking you out immediately. He had learned patience long ago and trusted that the wind would guide him when the time was right.
But as he wandered the streets of Fontaine, drinking in the sights and sounds of the city, he heard your voice again—clearer than it had ever been. This time, it was no distant whisper but a melody that floated on the air, rich and vibrant. You were rehearsing for an upcoming performance, your voice filling the opera house with the same beauty that had once echoed in his dreams.
He stood at a distance, watching you from the shadows. You were every bit as graceful as your voice, your movements fluid and elegant. Your presence commanded the space around you, yet there was a softness to you that drew him in. You were speaking with one of the directors with enthusiasm as you discussed the details of the upcoming opera. And though you didn’t know it, the man you had shared your thoughts with for so many years was standing just a few feet away, watching with quiet reverence.
Kazuha’s heart swelled as he took a deep breath, allowing the wind to guide him forward. It was time.
With the same grace that had carried him through countless battles and journeys, he approached you, his steps light and unhurried. When you turned, eyes meeting, the recognition was instant. The voice that had been a constant presence in your lives was now matched with a face.
For a moment, neither of you spoke. It was as though the world had stopped, leaving only the two of you standing in the fading light of the afternoon. And then, with a soft smile, Kazuha spoke.
“My lady,” he said, his voice as gentle as the breeze that stirred the air around both of you. He took your hand in his own, bowing slightly as he lifted it to his lips. The soft kiss he placed on the back of your hand was filled with all the quiet emotion he had carried with him for so many years. “It is an honor to finally meet you.”
Your smile widened, warmth rosing on your cheeks. “The honor is mine. I’ve heard your voice for so long… I almost thought I was dreaming when I heard you recite your poems for the first time.”
“As did I,” Kazuha replied, his crimson eyes soft as he gazed at you. “Your voice has been with me for as long as I can remember. Hearing you sing now… it feels as though I've been waiting for this moment my entire life.”
You laughed softly, the sound as musical as the voice he had come to love. “And I’ve been waiting for you. I always wondered when our paths would cross.”
“They were bound to,” Kazuha said, his tone warm. “The wind always carries us to where we are meant to be.”
With his and your hands still gently intertwined, you stood in the heart of Fontaine, the city alive with the murmur of art and life around them. But for the two of you, the rest of the world had faded, leaving only the echo of the voices that had connected you for so long.
In that moment, you knew that your journey—though long and winding—had led you both exactly where you were meant to be. Together.
Wanderer
In Teyvat, the concept of soulmates wasn’t something everyone discussed openly, but it was an unspoken truth understood by all. It was a tragic but beautiful reality for those people: no one ever dreamed—at least, not until they met their soulmate. The first and only dream a person would ever experience was a shared one, an intimate meeting with their destined one. This dream wasn’t bound by time or place, often filled with subtle moments, quiet connections, and profound understanding. But the dream itself didn’t mean immediate union. Many spent years after their dream searching, wondering when—or if—they’d ever cross paths with their other half in the waking world.
And not all believed they deserved a soulmate.
Wanderer had learned of the legend when he was still known as Kunikuzushi, back in the early days when he was newly formed and still discovering what it meant to exist. He hadn’t thought it applied to him, a puppet—a hollow being without a true heart, someone who was neither human nor divine. But one night, long ago, when he was still innocent and full of hope, he had a dream.
In that dream, he met you.
It wasn’t a vivid or wild vision. It was quiet, serene. You walked in a vast wheat field, your steps so rhythmic as if you were dancing between invisible trails that only you knew where it’d take you. Your back was turned to him but the sound of your laughter was a song that played like a lullaby in his head. When you looked up, your eyes meeting, something inside him stirred—a sense of calm, of being understood without words.
There were no grand gestures, no spoken promises. Just a glance, a soft smile, and a feeling that warmed him from the inside out. You were real, and for the first time in his short existence, he felt connected to something outside of himself.
When he woke, the memory of that dream stayed with him, lodged deep in his mind like a forgotten melody. He tried to dismiss it, thinking it was some strange byproduct of his flawed creation. How could he have a soulmate when he wasn’t truly human?
Years, centuries passed, and Kunikuzushi became Scaramouche, and Scaramouche became Wanderer. He fell deeper into darkness, fueled by bitterness and anger. Yet, despite the walls he built around himself, the memory of the dream never fully faded. It lingered in the back of his mind, sometimes emerging in his quietest moments, like a long-lost hope he didn’t want to admit to. He believed that dream was lost to time, and that he had been undeserving of it. He had resigned himself to solitude, pushing away any notion that he might still have a connection to someone out there.
But everything changed the night he wandered the streets of Sumeru.
The night was calm, and the air was thick with the fragrant scent of flowers. It was one of those evenings where the city was still alive, bustling with life even under the veil of darkness. The marketplace glowed softly in the distance, filled with the sounds of chatter and laughter. Wanderer had no purpose being there, only walking aimlessly, his mind drifting between thoughts.
Yet, for reasons he couldn’t explain, the memory of that dream began to surface. The image of you, twirling in a field, returned with startling clarity. He could almost see the light in your eyes, feel the quiet comfort of that moment. His steps slowed as a strange, almost magnetic pull tugged at his chest, drawing his attention toward the marketplace.
And then he saw you.
You stood at a vendor’s stall, your profile illuminated by the soft lantern light. His breath hitched. It was as if time stopped. You looked exactly as you had in the dream—your presence both familiar and startling. He blinked, convinced his mind was playing tricks on him. After all this time, how could you be here?
You turned slightly, inspecting some trinket on display, completely unaware of him. The world around him blurred, all the noise fading into a distant hum as his focus remained solely on you. He felt his heart—did he even have one?—thunder in his chest.
A storm of emotions raged inside him. He hadn’t prepared for this. Could this truly be real? After all he had done—his mistakes, his hatred, his isolation—was it possible that fate hadn’t given up on him? Was he still deserving of a soulmate?
He found himself rooted to the spot, too stunned to move. He couldn’t approach you, not yet. How could he, knowing what he had become? A part of him was relieved, though—relieved that you existed, that the dream hadn’t been a cruel joke. But the hesitation that lingered was undeniable. What if you saw him for who he truly was and walked away? What if, after all these years, he was no longer the person you had dreamed of?
You moved away from the stall, and at that moment, your eyes swept over the crowd, casually scanning the area—until they locked onto his.
The recognition was instant, like a spark between two halves of a long-separated whole. You blinked, clearly processing what you were feeling as if the dream had come flooding back to you all at once. The same quiet understanding he had felt in the dream now passed between you in reality. Your expression softened, and though you seemed uncertain, you didn’t look away.
You took a tentative step toward him, your curiosity was evident. His heart raced again, the walls he had built around himself suddenly feeling fragile as if a single word from you could shatter them entirely.
And then you spoke.
“I saw you once upon a dream,” you said, your voice gentle, filled with the same warmth and wonder from the dream. There was no accusation in your tone, no judgment—just simple truth.
He swallowed hard, unsure how to respond. A thousand thoughts raced through his mind, yet none of them made sense. All he could manage was, “Did you?”
You nodded, your gaze unwavering. “I thought it was just a trick of my mind, but… seeing you now, I know it was real.”
He stood frozen, a mix of doubts, disbelief, and relief swirling inside him. The person he had dreamed of, who he thought was forever out of reach, was standing in front of him. And you remembered him.
His voice was quieter than he intended when he finally spoke again. “I never thought I’d find you.”
You stepped closer, a soft smile forming on your lips. “Neither did I. But… here we are.”
The warmth in your eyes was something he hadn’t felt in so long. It made the walls around his heart tremble, threatening to crumble. He wanted to say so much, to explain the years that had passed, to tell you how unworthy he felt—but none of it mattered in that moment. You were here, and you had dreamed of him, too.
Perhaps, despite everything, he still had a chance at something real. Something good. And for the first time in his long, fragmented existence, Kunikuzushi felt a flicker of hope.
#genshin impact#genshin impact x reader#genshin#genshin x reader#kinich#kinich x reader#kaedehara kazuha#kaedehara kazuha x reader#kazuha x reader#scaramouche#scaramouche x reader#wanderer#wanderer x reader
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𝔄 𝔊𝔦𝔣𝔱 𝔣𝔯𝔬𝔪 𝔞 𝔊𝔬𝔡
ϟ 𝕻𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌: God! Choi Seungcheol x Mortal afab! Reader
ϟ 𝕾𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞: Your marriage wasn't the one to be envied. Marry to one of the ruthless kings due to an arrangement from your father. Being nothing more than a pawn. And you despise it all.
On the night of drinking and celebrating, you decided to turn in for the night. As you walk into your shared bedroom, you are greeted by a God, but not just any other God. The God of Sky and Thunder. King of Gods himself. Who came with a gift.
ϟ 𝖂𝕮: 8.9K
ϟ 𝖂𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌: Dom Zeus! Seungcheol, Sub Lady! Mortal Reader, dirty talking, breeding kink, oral (f. & m receiving), fingering, multiple orgasms and multiple positions, small amount or maybe more manhandling, a bit of praise kink or more, unprotected sex (stay safe kids), crying from pleasure, size kink, choking, your "husband" talking badly about the gods, Pet name: (y/n): darling. (I feel like I miss something but if I am. Let me know)
ϟ 𝕿𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙:: @gyuguys @ateez-atiny380 @cumiily @unlikelysublimekryptonite @okiedokrie-main @kyeomiis @black-swan-blog27 @acolytees @parkweylyn @odevote118 @cherricherryy @hamji-hae @missychief1404
ϟ 𝕹𝖔𝖙𝖊𝖘: This was kinda of inspired by a post I made and I thought about it and went "Yeah. Let's go for it." I did say that if my last work was good I would write the next prompt. And we're almost or at 800 notes on the last one, so here we are.
As I was writing this, I was a little nervous and kept telling myself that this isn't good and...Maybe it's not but as always, I want to improve myself. So I hope this is good as I tried my best. Not only that, I start school this month so I wanted to leave something before I take a small hiatus. I know, crazy. I literally just started but I need to focus so please enjoy this work I leave to you. Thank you for giving love to the teaser.
Please like, comment, and reblog for support and improvement, and as always. Let's go.
The room was filled with music, cheers, laughter from soldiers and giggles from women, and the smell of hearty food. It was another night in the throne room, where soldiers get drunk off their asses and celebrate while you sit back and watch them. It was disgusting to look at. Seeing how they drink without care. How they act like fools. Stuffing their faces like animals. Their boisterous behavior. It was revolting. The stench of alcohol and sweat filled the air, leaving you feeling sick to your stomach. You did not understand why men behaved this way; it was repulsive.
You heard the sound of "Ahhh" from behind you.
You turn to see the man who was your husband drinking his drink down his throat in one gulp. As he finishes, he raises his cup, shouting a loud cry that makes the soldiers cheer and raise their cups in response.
'Men.'
You shake your head in belief. "Another. Bring out more wine. Tonight, we celebrate our victory!" he declares, his voice booming with excitement. The soldiers erupt in cheers and laughter, the sound echoing through the evening as you roll your eyes at the soldiers' vibrancy. Your husband notices your exasperated expression and he smiles knowingly at you.
"Now, my wife," your husband says, pulling you close to his lap. His hand grips your chiffon dress. Your face twists with disgust as he attempts to kiss you. The taste of alcohol is heavy on his breath. You push him away gently, avoiding his advances. "Don't be so uptight, my love," he slurred, his words vaguely slurred. He grabs the bottle and pours more wine into the cup. "Drink up and join the revelry," your husband said, handing you a cup of wine.
You gently push the drink away and shake your head, declining his offer. "I'd rather not," you respond, annoyed and disappointed by his persistence. "Come now," your husband said before consuming the alcohol in his cup. "Loosen up a bit; enjoy the party," he urged, his voice growing firm. But you stand your ground, refusing to give in to his pressure and maintaining your boundaries.
"No thanks. I refuse to join in such revelry," you declare, firmly holding onto your decision. He sighs in frustration, clearly frustrated with your refusal.
Your "husband" wasn't the ideal man you pictured spending eternity with. The man you loved was kind. A man who said he would do anything for you. A man who said he would move the mountains from Olympus for you if he could.
He was the one man you ever cared for, but fate snatched him away from you as he died in battle, leaving you heartbroken and alone. You prayed for the gods to bring him back, saying you would do anything. But they didn't hear your prayers in the end. For weeks, you felt devastated and hopeless, grieving the death of your true love. A few days later, you were married to another man by arrangement. By a man who was ruthless, greedy, and only saw you as some pretty little trophy to show off to his peers. And that man happened to be your now husband. He appears one day in your land and promises your father victory in the war if he takes you as his wife. Your father approved no less, and my land was victorious, and now you are trapped here.
You did not care for him, your husband. You despised him with every fiber of your being. But you had no choice but to obey and fulfill your duties as his wife despite your husband 's constant disloyalty when he's away for war. You had to learn to accept your current reality and move on. You still thank the gods for giving you strength and tenacity despite having to put up with a man like him and his behavior. As you were lost in your thoughts, you were interrupted by the cheers and conversation of the troops.
"Did you see how we conquered our enemy?"
"They didn't know what hit them."
"Especially how our king slain their leader in a single combat?
"This victory belongs to the gods."
As you listened to the soldiers celebrate, you heard a sudden "HA" from your husband. The soldier stopped conversing as you turned to see your husband set his cup down.
"You thank the pitiful gods. And why should we thank them for our victory? No. Our victory belongs to us. Not those fickle gods who only watch from above. Our strength and determination enabled us to fight and conquer. Our bravery and perseverance ultimately led us to glory on the battlefield. The gods may have observed, but our actions secured victory," your husband said confidently.
You look at him in disbelief. How can he say that? How can he talk so boldly about them like that? You felt discomfort at his blasphemous words.
"You should not say that about the gods."
Your husband glanced at you at your words. "Oh, really," your husband spoke.
Gulping down his wine before continuing, "Share your thoughts, dear. Why should we thank those pathetic gods?" he asked, his tone challenging.
"They have given us everything to help us, and we must express gratitude for their blessings. If it weren't for them, you would not have won. We must honor them and acknowledge them. We should not anger them with our arrogance," you replied firmly.
Your husband's eyes narrowed. A flicker of annoyance crossed his face. "We continue to show our gratitude and respect for the gods, for they have guided us through many challenges and obstacles."
Your husband scoffed at your response, clearly not understanding the gravity of the situation. "Gratitude. Respect. Those are just words. Tell me, wife: Did Ares lead us to battle? No. Did Athena bless us with wisdom and strategy? No. Did the mighty Zeus himself strike down our enemies? No," he said, gulping down another cup of wine.
"It was I who led us to the battle. It was I who strategized and inspired my troops. It was us who struck down our enemies and emerged victorious." Your husband growled as his men cheered, agreeing unanimously with him.
"You see, our success is the result of our diligent work and perseverance, not some divine intervention," he declared proudly. "We are the masters of our own destiny, not at the mercy of the whims of the gods," he continued, instilling confidence in his men with his powerful words.
You couldn't believe what you were hearing. Your husband talks down to the gods. You were raised to respect and honor the gods. To thank them for everything they did. For the food they provided, for the safe travel home, for wisdom, for health. Everything. Now here he is, talking down to them. And you knew nothing would materialize if you spoke down to them. You felt disappointed at his lack of reverence for the divine forces that also played a part in their triumph. You couldn't understand how he could be so disrespectful to them, and you weren't going to stay there any longer and watch them celebrate.
You stood up from your husband's lap, and your husband looked at you in confusion. "Where are you going?" he asked.
"I'm going to bed."
Your husband looked puzzled and grabbed your wrist, holding you in place as you tried to pull away. "What? Just because I insulted the gods, you're really going to leave. Don't you think that's too much, dear?" he replied with a hint of frustration.
"No, my husband."
You snatched your wrist away from his grip. "What's too much is that you think I can stay with someone who insulted the gods after they granted us such favors and blessings? I cannot condone such disrespect, even from you." You turned and walked away, leaving your husband to ponder his actions.
You exit the throne room, strolling down the hall to your bedroom, feeling anger and disappointment. How can he not understand? How can a man be so selfish and ignorant? You shake your head in disbelief. As you strolled along, you saw your maid, Sumni, carrying merely a food tray. She looks up to see you and gasps slightly.
"My lady Y/N," your maid Sumni notices you.
Sumni was one of the people you genuinely enjoyed in this kingdom. She was a great listener, very attentive, and very kind. "Is everything okay?" she asks, concern evident in her voice. You pause, debating whether to confront her about your husband's behavior. But you nod your head and reply, "Yes, Sumni. I am fine. Just a bit tired, that's all."
Sumni nodded understandingly. "Would you like me to accompany you to bed?" she asked kindly. You shook your head and declined her offer, thanking her for her concern. Sumni smiled warmly at you before dismissing herself, leaving you alone with your thoughts. You continue your journey to the bedroom. As soon as you arrive at your bedroom door, you push the door open, step inside, and slightly close it. You sigh as your head presses against the frame, exhausted from the day's events.
"Long night!"
You heard a voice behind you. You turned around to see a mysterious man lying on his side across from your bed, a mischievous grin on his face. You felt a jolt of surprise at the man's unexpected presence in your bedroom. "Who are you?" you asked cautiously, your heart racing uncertainly. The man chuckled softly and replied, "I'm just someone who couldn't resist meeting you."
You glanced at the man's appearance. He had a white toga draped over his shoulder and a gold cuff wrapped around one of his biceps, which was exposed. His pec was exposed, while the other was concealed under the toga. His toga was short so that you could see his muscular legs. His eyes were pierced brown, and his smile was charming. His hair was black and wet, and he was breath-taking. The more you look at him, the more you find yourself drawn to his mysterious aura. You were so lost in thought that you heard him laugh.
"What's the matter, darling? Lost in thought?" he asks with a playful smirk.
You shook your head, cleared all your thoughts, and got to the question.
"W-What are you doing here? You are trespassing, and I would appreciate it if you left immediately," you stammer, feeling a mix of fear and fascination at the mysterious stranger in your room. The man chuckles, his grin widening as he replies.
"Oh, nothing. Just enjoying the celebration of your king's victory. As if your husband needed it," the man said.
A small scoff escaped his lips. "That your husband of yours," he continued.
"That man thinks we are not the reason behind his success. He's so power-hungry and incompliant that he can't even get on his knees and thank us after what we've done to make him victorious. I must say I don't think they'll be so happy to hear about that. It's a shame. Really. How ungrateful people can be," the man said with a hint of disappointment.
You listen as this man talks badly about your husband like he knows him. Before you could speak, he continued.
"But you, Lady Y/N."
You froze as the mysterious man said your name.
"You're such a loyal worshipper. You thank the gods for every endeavor and never falter in your devotion. A woman like you should be rewarded," the man expressed.
The way the man in front of you looks at you. It was like he was undressing you with his eyes. His gaze was intense and unwavering. You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks as you tried to maintain your composure.
"W-Who are you?" you said, asking again.
The man smirked at my question.
"I am known by many names. Zojz. Tinia. Jupiter. Zeus. But," the man said as he slowly rose from your bed, full of confidence, "you can call me Seungcheol."
Your eyes widen in shock as you realize the man's true identity. "M-My... God," you stammer, feeling two emotions at once: fear and awe wash over you. You instantly fall to the floor, bowing. "Please forgive me for any disrespect I may have shown," you say, bowing your head in reverence.
Seungcheol chuckled softly, his grin widening at your reaction. A loyal follower, he thought to himself. He slowly approached you as you kowtowed before him, his presence towering over you. "Rise," he commanded gently, offering a hand to help you stand. As you looked up at him, you couldn't help but feel an admiration and reverence for the god standing before you.
"There will be no formalities," he said. As you take his hand and stand up, Seungcheol's eyes twinkle with amusement. He was taller than you expected, and his presence exuded a sense of power and authority that made you feel equally intimidated and intrigued.
"My god."
You were speechless. You didn't know what to say, and the words hadn't even begun to form. Seungcheol noticed your awe and chuckled softly.
"You seem lost in words right now, darling," Seungcheol said. His deep voice resonated through you, sending shivers down your spine. It was as if he could read your thoughts and emotions with just a glance.
"I- It's just that I didn't expect such a sudden visit," you stammered, your cheeks flushed with embarrassment.
"Would you like me to leave?" he asked. You shake your head quickly. "N-No. Please stay. I didn't mean—"
"Don't worry, darling," Seungcheol interrupted with a reassuring smile. "Just teasing you a bit."
His smile was gentle and warm, putting you at ease. He then stepped away from you and trailed around the room. Taking in everything about his surroundings, even looking at the unfinished tapestry mounted on the wall. With a persistent and powerful head, he strolled around.
"Besides, I didn't want to leave without giving you a gift," Seungcheol stated.
A gift... for you...
"W-What kind of gift?" is all you can manage to stammer out of. "A special one," he answered.
"How special is the gift?" you asked, curious. Seungcheol finally stopped walking and turned back to you with a mysterious glint in his eyes, making your heart race with anticipation.
"What if I told you that your gift, your special little gift, was something that I wanted to show you? To thank you for showing such admiration for me." Seungcheol responded with a mischievous smile. Your mind raced with possibilities as you waited for him to reveal the surprise he had in store for you.
"What if I said your gift was me? Would you believe me?" Seungcheol's eyes sparkled with anticipation as he waited for your response.
"Y-you, my god," you stammered out, feeling a rush of emotions at his unexpected revelation. Seungcheol nodded, a small smile playing on his lips.
"You have been such a loyal follower. Why not reward you for your dedication? Besides, I think you deserve it," he declared as his eyes never left yours.
Your heart skipped a beat at his words. Him. Your god. Offering himself. To you. As a gift. It left you speechless and overwhelmed with emotions. You couldn't. You didn't know what to say. Minutes ago, you were in the throne room with your husband and his soldiers, and now you're here with Seungcheol, your god, offering himself to you as a reward for your loyalty. The weight of his offer combined with the intensity of his gaze left you breathless and unsure of how to respond.
"My god."
"Seungcheol," he interrupted, his smile widening.
"Seungcheol. I-I couldn't conceivably accept such an offer," you stammered, turning around.
This was so much to process right now. You. You simply couldn't accept it, even though it was tempting. Even if you were completely captivated by him. You couldn't accept it. You just couldn't. The internal struggles were overwhelming as you were torn between your desire and your duty. The conflict within you was palpable, but you knew you had to answer.
You were so lost in your thoughts. You didn't even hear him coming behind you as you turned around and found him standing right before you. Frightened, you took a step back, and your back hit the wall behind you as he trapped you with his arms on either side of your head as he towered over you. Your breath quickened as you met his intense gaze.
"Why not?" Seungcheol softly asked.
His hand moved down to cup your cheek; his touch sent a shiver down your spine.
"Don't you want it? I mean, you've been such a good girl. Don't you want to be rewarded? For being such," Seungcheol said as he leaned in and pressed a kiss to your forehead.
"Loyal."
Another is placed on the bridge of the nose.
"Good."
Then your cheek. Then he trails down your neck, and your breath is caught in your throat as he pauses right there, teasing you with his lips hovering just above your collarbone.
"Girl."
It's then that he presses his lips against your collarbone, sending a wave of desire through your body. Suddenly, he trailed kisses up your neck, each setting off a fire within you. The sensation of his lips on your skin was electrifying, and every kiss he placed made your body ache, leaving a trail of heat in its wake and your pussy clenching around nothing. As he made his way up, he pulled away slightly, his lips ghosting over your ear, and whispered, "So... will you accept this gift of mine? This gift from a god?" His voice was low and seductive.
Both of you stared at each other. His gaze was intense, making your heart race. It was then that you stopped fighting. You stopped fighting the pull of attraction between you two and gave in to the overwhelming desire as you nodded slowly. "Ah. Ah. I need words, darling," he murmurs, his voice low and seductive.
Your breath comes short as you gather the courage to respond. "Yes," you utter, your voice barely above a whisper.
Seungcheol's smile widens, revealing a hint of satisfaction before his eyes glance down at your lips. Your heart pounded as he leaned in close. Is this happening right now? Is this really happening? You close your eyes anticipating a kiss, but he stops just inches from your lips. And he made a small 'hmm' sound. A slight flutter of your eyes opens your eyes to see that mischievous smile playing on his lips. Pulling away, he walked away as you stood there watching him as your heart raced. He walked toward the bed as he sat down, his legs spread. He slowly reached his hand out. "Come here," he commanded.
There is a slight gulp in your throat. Nervous. You slowly walked toward him. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest with every step you took. As soon as you reached him, you nervously touched his outstretched palm. He smiled softly before tugging you onto his lap, inducing a gasp from you softly. His grip was tight and possessive. Your heart pounded faster than it had before, and you could feel the heat radiating from his body as he pulled you closer. The tension in the room was palpable. Anticipation hangs heavy in the air. "Now," he suddenly spoke.
Seungcheol's eyes bore into yours, innocent as ever. "Give your god a kiss," he commanded, his voice low and commanding.
You hesitated for a moment. You bite your lips as you look at his plump lips, nervous. Your palms were even sweating. Slowly you lean in to give him what he wants, but then he softly leans back, avoiding you. You tried again, and he avoided you again, backing away. Every time you tried to approach him, Seungcheol avoided you repeatedly, just to purposely tease you.
You pull back, whining and pouting at his playful taunts, and he chuckles at your reaction as he enjoys the power he has over you. Suddenly Seungcheol's hand flew to the back of your neck, pulling in and smashing his lips against yours. Leaving you clinging to his shoulder, bracing yourself. The kiss was demanding and intense, making your head spin with desire. As if he were trying to consume you whole.
Your hands gripped his shoulders, bracing yourself for the overwhelming sensation of his kiss, releasing a soft moan of pleasure. Your heart raced as you surrendered to his dominance. His tongue expertly explored your mouth, creating an electric spark within you.
He pulled away from the kiss, leaving you gasping for breath. You could still feel the lingering heat of his touch on your lips and the surge of heat between your legs, which left you yearning for more. Seungcheol looks at you with dark eyes as a smirk plays on his lips. He saw your expression. That expression that is full of bliss and desire. Seeing you like this in this moment makes his cock twitch with anticipation.
"Beautiful," he murmurs huskily.
He leans in again, capturing your lips in another searing kiss, his hands wandering over your body with possessive intent. Your breath hitched as you eagerly responded to his touch, completely under his spell. Then he flipped position as he was on top of you, his weight pressing you into the mattress as he deepened the kiss. You melted into his embrace. With each kiss and each caress, you descended deeper into the abyss of desire he had engendered. He pulls away slightly to trail kisses down your jaw and neck. His lips leave a trail of fire in their wake. You let out a soft moan, craving more of his touch. His teeth graze lightly on your skin as he leans in and bites down on your neck as your back arches in pleasure, pulling him in closer.
His lips turned into a slight smirk on your neck as he knew he had got you where he wanted you. Now Seungcheol has been watching you. Hearing you. He hears many prayers now and then coming from the temple, but yours. Your prayer was the one he anticipated the most. Oh, how you praise them. How you thank the gods. How you take what they give and never waste a single blessing, especially when his name falls on your lips. The way it falls off your tongue sounds like sweet music to his ears. He cannot deny that your devotion intrigues him. You intrigue him.
So he had to meet you. He had to see the person behind the prayers and accolades, but he had to be patient; his patience could only wear so thin as he continued to watch you from the sky above. But now that he has got you like this, under his spell. Grasping, panting, and moaning in pleasure underneath him like this. Seungcheol was completely ecstatic right now.
He licks over the bite mark he places on your neck, savoring the taste of your flesh before moving back to your lips to capture your lips in another kiss. Hands roam over your chiffon dress, feeling every curve and dip in your body beneath the fabric. He pulled away slightly, his lips ghosting over yours.
"Let's take this off."
With a mischievous glint in his eyes, Seungcheol slowly pulls the hems of your dress upward, exposing more and more of your skin as he goes as he looks with hungry eyes. As the dress finally slipped over your head, his gaze darkened with desire as he saw you lying there before him. My, did you look breathtaking? From your tousled hair to your gorgeous face to how your skin glowed in the dim light to your gorgeous curves. It was like the goddess, Aphrodite herself, had craved you into existence just for him. He couldn't take his eyes off you.
"S-Seungcheol," you stammered, feeling a rush of heat flood your cheeks as his intense gaze lingered on you. The growl that he held back when you spoke his name.
You couldn't help but feel nervous about how intensely he was staring at you. You tried to cover yourself, but his hand shot out to stop you, his eyes never leaving yours.
"Why are you covering yourself?" he asked softly.
"I-I."
"Why are you covering such a beautiful sight like this?" he whispered, his voice filled with admiration. Seungcheol pinned your hands above your head as he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your skin. "Don't you dare hide from me," he warned, his eyes dark with desire.
You softly gasp at his words at his command. His eyes look at you up and down. "Or," he started.
"Or," you repeat in a shaky voice.
"Or... are you just shy, Y/N?" he taunted.
You didn't say anything, but your red cheeks said it all. A chuckle escaped his lips. "My, what a shy darling I appear to have tonight," he murmured, his lips hovering dangerously close to yours. "But don't worry, I'll make sure you're not shy for long."
His free hand trailed to your breast and caressed it gently. Your skin felt so soft under his touch, and you couldn't help but exhale. He smirked at your sudden reaction. Then his hand trailed down to your underwear, feeling the wet patch forming there.
"You're so wet. Did all of that kissing get you excited?" he teased.
You struggled to answer as he rubbed his thumb over the damp fabric, causing you to whine and leak out more slick. You squirm under his touch. "Answer me, darling. Tell me, did it?" Your mouth opens, letting out a breathless "yes" before he leans in and presses his lips against yours, deepening the kiss, swallowing your moan as his fingers continue to tease you. Without breaking the kiss, he slowly slides your underwear off, exposing your most intimate parts.
Seungcheol moves off your body to kneel at the foot of the bed. Seungcheol grabs your legs, pulling you over the edge of the bed, causing you to yelp. He spread your legs apart, revealing your wet core, his gaze smoldering with hunger. He spread your folds with his fingers, eliciting a soft moan from your lips. The way your arousal glistened in the dim light made his desire grow even more intense. You look down at him, your chest rising and descending in anticipation. "Please," you whispered, your voice barely audible in the heated moment.
Oh, the way you plead for him. The way you beg him to devour you. So he did. Without hesitation, he dove in, devouring you with passion. You gasp, eyes fluttering shut as your hand tugs at his hair. The tug caused him to groan into your cunt, adding vibration. The way your arousal tasted on his tongue. It was intoxicating. It was so good. It was so delicious. It was so... addictive. With a delighted sneer on his lips, he withdrew for a while before whispering, "Fuuck. You taste divine," and then he dove back in.
The sensation of his tongue and lips on your sensitive areas sends shivers down your spine, making you arch your back in pleasure. The way he ate you out. It was different. It was something you had never experienced before. He ate you like a man who had been deprived of a feast for far too long, savoring every moment of it. And he didn't want to stop until you were completely spent and trembling beneath him.
"I just can't get enough of you. You taste so good. So sweet," he murmurs before diving back in as he continues to lap and slurp at your dripping wet core, determined to make you lose control completely. You arch your back in pleasure and moan his name, feeling the intensity build with each flick of his tongue.
His tongue moved to your entrance and inserted his tongue inside as his nose nuzzled against your clit. "Seungcheol," you moan breathlessly, feeling the pleasure intensify with each movement of his skilled tongue.
"Feel good?" Seungcheol whispers huskily, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. "Yes. So good," you whisper back, completely lost in the sensations he's giving you. Your answer pleased him. His tongue expertly flicked and probed, sending shivers down your spine as you moaned in pleasure.
He went back to your sensitive nub and sucked on it gently, making you gasp and squirm with pleasure. His tongue expertly flicked and probed, sending shivers down your spine as you moaned in pleasure. You begin to feel a wave of pleasure building up deep within you, ready to crash over you. "Seungcheol. Please. "No," you begged as you shut your eyes, completely overwhelmed by the sensation.
"Look at me. Look at me," he commanded, his voice low and husky. You locked eyes with him, feeling the intensity of his gaze as he continued to titillate you with his mouth.
"Look at me as you cum all over my face," he growled, the sound sending a jolt of desire through you.
With his eyes never leaving yours, he increases the pressure and speed of his movements, bringing you closer and closer to the brink until eventually, you explode in a mind-blowing orgasm that leaves you breathless and completely satisfied. You lay there panting, out of breath. He gave one final lick, letting a whine out of you before pulling away, a satisfied grin on his lips. He wipes the last of your essence with his thumb before licking it off, enjoying the taste of your release, watching you rest in the afterglow of your orgasm.
It took you some time to gather yourself as you lay on the bed, deeply absorbed in thought. You feel trails of kisses coursing up your body, causing shivers to run down your spine as you bask in your post-orgasmic bliss. Seungcheol pulls away from your body to undress himself. Finally removing the toga from his body, revealing his naked form.
"Shouldn't I get a reward as well?" Seungcheol grinned.
You sat up slowly as you looked at his naked form. His body was a work of art, every muscle defined and his skin glowing in the soft light of the room. Your eyes travel down to see his cock standing at attention. His cock was long and thick. The tip was red and glistening with pre-cum, a clear indication of his arousal. It made your mouth water. You could already feel yourself getting wet just looking at it.
"What's the matter, darling? Never seen a cock like mine before?" He teased, his voice husky with desire.
"It's so big. I don't think it will fit," you whispered.
"Don't worry," Seungcheol said before reaching his hand out and stroking your cheek. "It'll fit," he assured. With that, he kisses your cheek before pulling you up to stand. He sits down on the bed, his legs spread. Cock, hard and ready. "On your knees," he commanded, his tone firm yet gentle. You complied and got down on your knees. You can hear him mutter 'Good girl' under his breath.
The moment you were right there between his legs, you were a vision. His hand lightly cups your chin and tilts your head up towards him, gently stroking your cheek.
"Open," he commends. You obey and open your mouth as he inserts two fingers inside your mouth, stroking the pink muscle with meticulous care, causing you to moan softly.
He slowly thrust his fingers in and out, watching your reaction closely. He could hear you gag slightly as he pushed further, testing your limits. Your eyes watered slightly, but you maintained eye contact with him, eager to please. With a smirk, he removed his fingers, giving you time to catch your breath. Seungcheol leaned back on the bed as you collected your breath, holding himself up by his muscular arms as his gaze never left yours. "Now please your god," he commanded.
You nod your head in recognition. With nervous hands, you grab his cock as you look up at him, a mixture of elation and nerves. You close your eyes and place his cock on your tongue, savoring the salty taste of his pre-cum.
"That's it. Good girl," he whispered, his words low and encouraging.
You swirl your tongue around the tip, making him bite his lips in pleasure. The moment your mouth wraps around the tip, Seungcheol groans and rolls his eyes back, tilting his head back in pleasure as he lets out a deep, guttural moan. The sensation of your warm mouth enveloping him sends waves of ecstasy through his body, making him tremble with desire.
"Fuck, darling. Your mouth feels wonderful." He reaches down to tangle his fingers in your hair, guiding you as you slowly bob your head.
He lets out a low growl of pleasure as you please him. His half-lidded eyes gaze at you with a mixture of desire and adoration, his breath coming out in short, ragged gasps. God, did you look pretty with your mouth around his cock? He couldn't take his eyes away. You look so perfect. The feeling of your tongue swirling around him. The warmth of your mouth accompanied by the wetness of your lips. The feeling of your soft moan around him and the sight of your wide innocent eyes staring up at him only intensified his arousal. He couldn't resist the urge to thrust his hips, wanting to feel more of you while constantly praising you. "You're so fucking good at this," he groaned.
"Look at you. Being such a good girl, treating your god with such reverence. You like pleasing your god?" Seungcheol asked with a smirk, his voice filled with satisfaction. You nodded eagerly, your eyes filled with desire and devotion as you served him with your mouth. "Such a good girl. Such pretty lips wrapped around me," he murmured as he guided your movements. You moan in response as he increases the pace, his words fueling your arousal even more.
His hand took you deeper until his cock hit the back of your throat, causing you to gag. He uttered a low growl of pleasure. "That's it; take it all. You were made to worship me," he whispered, his hips thrusting with increased urgency and need as he reveled in your worship. Your hand lands on his thighs as you dig your nails into his skin. Drool coming from the corners of your mouth, and tears stream down your cheeks as you try to keep up with his fast pace.
His abdomen tightened as he was getting close. Real close. "Fuck. I'm going to cum so hard in that pretty little mouth of yours," Seungcheol moans, his hips thrust forward as he nears his climax. As you wait for him to release, you can feel his body tighten, his breath catch, and his cock twitch inside your mouth. It doesn't take long before he's spilling himself down your throat, his moans and groans filling the room.
The taste of his cum lingers on your tongue as you swallow. Some spill out of your mouth and drip down your chin. You pull away with a 'pop.' "Fuck," he curses under his breath, his hand running through his damp hair as he tries to catch his breath. "Did I satisfy you, my god?" you inquired. A small chuckle escapes his lips. Oh, how you enticed him. He leans down, grabs your face, and pulls you in for a deep kiss. You melted into the embrace as the kiss became more intense and passionate, losing yourself in the moment. He could taste the lingering taste of his essence on your lips.
Seungcheol pulls away slightly, his lips hovering over yours, and answers your question. "Oh, more than you ever known, darling," he said. His lips returned to yours; the kiss was so passionate and electric. He gently stood you up, beckoning you to straddle his lap. Your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him closer as you deepen the kiss.
He rose, his hands firmly gripping your waist, and kneeled to lay you down gently, never releasing the kiss in the middle of the bed. Your bodies are pressed together in a passionate embrace. He pulls away to lay open-mouth kisses on your neck, leaving marks all over as his hand gently caresses your breast. You never had someone that drove you crazy with a desire like this. His touch was electrifying; it sent a shiver down your spine and left you wanting more. Every touch, every kiss, and every caress made you feel alive in a way you had never experienced before. And you wanted more. Your hips buckle against his touch, grinding against his body in a silent plea for more, yet he stops your hips from grinding, keeping you still.
"Seungcheol. Please."
"Patient darling," Seungcheol uttered into your neck. His voice was deep and soothing. His hand traveled to land on your wet core, and his finger began to rub tiny circle on your clit causing you to gasp.
"I need to prep you. We don't want it to hurt, do we?" He continued, his touch gentle yet firm. His hand spreads your folds apart to expose your entrance. His fingers slowly enter you, stretching you in a way that makes you moan with pleasure. "Just relax," he whispered before kissing your cheek. His slow and deliberate movements ensured you were ready for what was to come.
Then he added a second finger, increasing both pressure and intensity. The sensation of being filled and stretched by him made you arch your back in pleasure.
"That's it. That's my good girl. You're so warm," he whispers.
His mouth soon wrapped around your nipple as he scissors you open. You couldn't stop the moan from escaping. "You're doing so well," he whispers, his voice filled with admiration and desire. The mix of his sucking and biting on your breast to his finger massaging your walls made you feel close to the edge of losing control. His touch drove you insane. And when he curled his finger, touching that spongy spot, you couldn't help but moan loudly in pleasure. "There. Right there."
Letting your breast go with a pop, he murmurs, "Hm. There." His movements intensify as he focuses on that sensitive area. You nod your head, encouraging him to keep going. He smiles and increases the pressure before attacking the other breast with the same frequency. Your body arches towards him, unable to contain the emotions coursing through you.
"Look how well you take my fingers inside that tight little pussy of yours. You're doing good for me," he growls, his voice low and husky. Your moans increased as his fingers moved so rapidly that you could barely keep up with the overwhelming pleasure. Your mind had gone blank. You didn't hear anything but the sound of your own ragged gasps, the pounding of your heart in your ears, and the squelching sound of your wetness as he continued to please you.
It was so intense that you felt your whole body tremble. Every never-ending was on fire as he plowed into and out of your cunt. As he continued, you could feel the tension building up inside you, ready to explode at any moment. Your breathing quicken. Your heart raced as you were on the edge. On the edge of pure pleasure
"S- Cheol. Close," you gasp out, feeling the heat pooling in your core. His movements become more urgent, pushing you closer to the edge.
"Oh. You gonna cum again. Go ahead, darling. Cum. Cum on my fingers," he encouraged. Your breath was ragged, and your moan was loud as you finally reached your peak, intense pleasure washing over you in waves. Seungcheol's fingers continued their relentless pace, prolonging your climax until you were left trembling and spent. His movement slows down as he watches you come down from your high.
"Good girl," he praises you with a smirk as his fingers slowly withdraw from your sensitive core. You whimper as Seungcheol lightly taps your oversensitive clit a few times before slipping his wet fingers into his mouth and tasting the remnants of your desire. He moans at the delicious flavor.
"I can't get enough of you," he murmurs, his eyes dark with desire as he leans in to kiss you deeply. The taste of yourself on his lips only heightens your arousal, and you eagerly respond to his hungry kisses. He shifts himself between your legs, grinding into you as his cock presses against your slick fold.
He wrapped his hand around his cock and slowly stroked it before placing it on your entrance, collecting all of your wetness as he teased you with the tip. "Ready," he whispers huskily. You nod your head.
"Please," you beg, arching your hips towards him, desperate for him to fill you. He obliges, slowly entering you with a groan of pleasure, causing you to gasp at the feeling of fullness. And god, was he big? He was practically splitting you open with every push he made. You never knew you could be this full. Just as you took him all the way in, you felt like absolute heaven.
"Damn, darling. You feel so incredible," he murmured, his voice husky with desire.
You cling to him, feeling every inch of him deep inside you. He look at you, asking for permission to move and you granted it. He began to move in a slow and deliberate rhythm, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through your body. You could not help moaning in ecstasy, totally absorbed in the sensation of being conquered by him. It was a feeling that you had never experienced before. It was intoxicating and overwhelming in all the right ways. Seungcheol grated at your facial expression. You look beautiful, he thought inwardly. The way your face twisted in pleasure. The way your body moves with every thrust. The way you look underneath right now. It only fuels his desire to give you more.
So his hands grabbed your hips and plunged deeper, setting a fast pace that had you gasping for breath. The intensity of his movements matched the passion in his gaze, making you feel desired and cherished in a way that left you craving more.
"Such a good girl. Taking me in so deep," he praises, his hands gripping your hips firmly as he sets a rhythm that has you seeing stars. Your body responds eagerly to his every movement, increasing the intensity with each thrust. The pleasure is overwhelming, making you lose yourself in the moment. He lifts your leg and places it on his shoulder, opening you up even further and allowing him to penetrate even deeper. The sensation of him hitting that perfect spot deep inside you sends waves of ecstasy through your body, making you arch your back and moan uncontrollably.
"Feel good, darling," he said, his voice husky with desire.
"Yes. So good."
He smirked at your response, knowing he was driving you wild with pleasure. "Really?"
He asks teasingly, his eyes dark with lust as he proceeds to move with deliberate precision.
"I-Is-."
You started.
"Is. What is it? Come on, tell me, darling," he urged, his fingers gripping your hips firmly as he quickened his pace. The moment's intensity was overwhelming, making it difficult for you to form coherent words as you surrendered to the pleasure coursing through your body.
"I-Is. Is it good for you, my god?" You finally stammered out, your voice barely audible over your ragged breaths. He released a low, guttural groan before murmuring, "It's more than good, darling."
His movement slows down as he leans over to you, his lips hover over yours, his forehead pressing against each other, and his eyes gaze into yours as he slowly grinds into you.
"You feel so amazing around me," he whispers before his lips press against yours in a passionate kiss, sending a surge of electricity through your entire being.
Pulling away from the kiss, he took hold of your waist and plunged into you with the same rhythm but more rough and strenuous, leaving you gasping for air. The intensity of the moment is almost too much to bear; you can practically feel tears prickling at the corner of your eyes. But you welcomed it with open arms, craving the raw connection and overwhelming pleasure he brought to you.
Your body moves in complete harmony as his thrusts intensify. You were lost in the bliss of the moment. And just when your stomach began to tighten, just when you felt yourself being tipped over the edge again, he pulled out, leaving you empty. You whimpered in protest, but he flipped you over onto your stomach. Putting you on your hands and knees. His hand grips your hip tightly and enters you from behind, his movements rough and primal. You couldn't help but scream as you pressed your face against the sheets. Your back perfectly arched. The change in position only heightened the intensity of the moment, leaving you breathless, and his movements became even more intense and passionate.
"Oh god," you gasp, gripping the sheet underneath you, feeling every inch of him inside you. The sound of skin smacking against skin fills the room, your moans blending with his growls as he thrusts harder and deeper.
"Fuck, you're so perfect. Sucking me in like this," he grunts, his voice husky with desire, his eyes rolling back in his head as he loses himself in the pleasure of the moment.
His hands gripped your hips tightly, his movements becoming more intense and desperate. The tears that you held back, you finally let flow down your cheeks, mingling with the sweat that coated your skin. You can't deny it. You were in bliss. Completely lost in the overwhelming pleasure. And every time he pulled out, you pulled him back in, craving more of his touch. You were addicted to him, and he was addicted to you.
Seungcheol hovers over you as his chest presses against your back. You felt his hand wrap around your throat, tightening his grip as he pounded into you with relentless force. You moaned, unable to resist the overwhelming pleasure. You could feel his breath on your skin as he spoke in your ear.
"Tell me, my dear. Who is making you feel this good?" Seungcheol whispers, his voice deep and commanding. You can't help but moan softly in response, feeling completely consumed by him in that moment.
"Y-you are," your stammering manages to enunciate.
"Louder," he demanded.
His hand squeezed your throat, and you gasped.
"Who is pleasing you like this?" he asks, his grip tightening slightly. Your body shivers in response to his commanding tone, feeling a rush of excitement as you surrender completely to him. "You are," you finally gasp out, your voice filled with desire and need.
"More. Who is making you scream like this? Come on. Tell me. Who?" he growls, his eyes dark with desire. His grip on your throat tightens even more, sending a jolt of pleasure. You feel a surge of arousal at his dominance, unable to resist his commanding presence. "You are. You are," you chant in a breathless whisper, your body trembling with anticipation. "Only you."
"That's right. Me. All me. Not that pathetic excuse of a man you call your husband. Me. It is I who is pleasing you. It is I who is making you feel utter bliss. It is I who is making you scream for all of Olympus to hear. And it is I who's going to fill your cunt with so much of my seed that you'll be swollen with my child," Seungcheol finished, his voice dark and possessive.
Your heart races as his words send chills down your spine. The intensity of his desire overwhelms you. You can't help but surrender to the power he holds over you. His dominant presence left you breathless, and his words ignited a fire within you that you couldn't resist.
"C-Cheol," you moan, your voice barely audible.
"That's right. Say my name. Scream it if you have to. Let the whole kingdom hear. You are mine," he growls, his grip on your neck loosening as your body drops on the bed. Pulling away, his hands grip your hips as he plunges into you with primal intensity.
Your moan turned into screams of pleasure as you felt the tension rising within you once again. You knew you couldn't hold back for much longer.
"I c-ca.. so close," you whisper, feeling the heat building in your core as Cheol's movements become more urgent and desperate. Your body trembles with anticipation, on the brink of ecstasy, as you give in to the overwhelming pleasure he's providing.
"Huh. You're close. Go ahead. I can feel you squeezing around my cock. Go on. Cum on this cock. Cream all over me," he commands, his voice rough with desire. You feel yourself shatter under his touch, the world fading away as you reach your peak, crying out his name in a final release of pleasure.
You were pulsating with a mixture of pleasure and relief, your body still trembling as you came down from the intense high he had brought you to. But, oh, he was far from done with you yet. Seungcheol flipped you over on your back. Cock still lodge into you. He grabs your legs and pins them close to your chest as he bends forward and puts you in a mating press, thrusting deep and hard. And you scream in pleasure as your arm wraps around his neck, listening to the squelching wet noise coming from your abused hole. Your body quivers at the force of his movements. This position has Seungcheol in deeper than before.
"S-Seungcheol. So deep. Oh so good," you gasp out between moans, feeling every inch of him inside you. Your hands clutch his back, your nails digging into his skin as he plunges into you with increasing intensity.
"You like how I please you? You like how I reward you? Hmm. Fuck, this pussy is so good.Make me want to bring you back with me. Is that what you want? To take you to Olympus. Have you warm my bed and be treated like a queen and be bred by me again and again?" Seungcheol whispers in your ear as he continues to plunge into you relentlessly.
"Yes," you screamed. "Yes, I love it. I love it so much. I want it. I want it so badly. You fuck me so good, Seungcheol," you moan.
So does he. He wants it so… bad. The thought of you on Olympus with him in his arms, being treated like royalty, and experiencing pleasure beyond imagination drives him wild. He can't resist the temptation to have you by his side. To take you away from this kingdom. To make you his own forever.
"Please. Please make me yours. Fill me with your seed. Fill me up, my God," you beg, your voice resounding with desperation and desire.
Your words fuel his desire as he pulls away, spreading your legs apart to take hold of your waist. He slightly raises your body and picks up the pace, thrusting harder and deeper into you. You felt a wave of pleasure overtake you as he ravaged you. Soon that tension started to build up again. You call out his name, begging for release. He groans in response, feeling on edge himself.
"Fuck. I'm close. Are you ready? Ready for your gift? Make sure you don't waste a single drop. Cum. Cum with me," he growls, his voice low and husky with lust. You nod eagerly. Your hand grips the sheets tightly, and your body perfectly sync with his, meeting each thrust with equal enthusiasm.
And with a final thrust, you both came together as he released his hot seed inside you, filling you up with a sense of completion and satisfaction. Your bodies trembled with the aftermath of your shared climax, leaving you both breathless and spent in each other's arms. You couldn't hear anything but the sound of your own heart pounding. Suddenly, Seungcheol pulled out, making you whimper slowly. He noticed that his cum was slowly leaking out of your hole, so he scooped up the remaining and pushed it back inside you with his fingers, causing you to gasp. His fingers massage your sensitive walls before he pulls them out gently as he goes to your stomach, caressing it softly and looking at it fondly.
"There, darling. Your gift. And soon this gift will blossom into something truly miraculous. So they can be loved, nurtured, and cherished. You will give them your love and support, and I will guide them to be the best. You will take care of my gift, won't you?" Seungcheol said as he looked up at you, still stroking your stomach.
"Yes, I will," you replied.
"Good, and if anyone harms them," he said with a dangerous glint, "I will make sure they regret it."
You nod your head at his words. "Good girl," he commented.
His hand caressed your cheek tenderly. "I cannot wait to see our gift grow," he said, his voice filled with antiradiation.
"May our child have my eyes and your looks," you said. Seungcheol heard your response and chuckled casually.
"Yes," he said, reaching out to push back the locks. He leans in and presses his forehead against yours and whispers,
"May our child have your wisdom and my strength."
#svt#svt x reader#seventeen#choi seungcheol smut#scoup smut#seventeen smut#seventeen x y/n#seventeen fanfic#seventeen x reader#seventeen seungcheol#scoups smut#black writers#svt smut#seungcheol smut#seventeen imagines#seventeen x black reader#seungcheol x reader#seungcheol x black reader#choi seungcheol x reader#Choi seungcheol x black reader#black writer
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healing touch
words: 700
warnings: established relationship, catcalling
“you've changed.” rafe observes, cocking his head to the side as you don't respond to his arrival home, or even budge at his words. your eyes are stared straight forward, blank and almost hollow, so unlike the vibrancy rafe is used to seeing when he looks at you.
“baby.” rafes voice is softer now as he takes a step forward, not trying to startle you from your place perched on the countertop, sat with your legs pulled up to your chest, chin against your knees.
“darling.” rafe steps closer again, and your eyelashes finally flutter as you notice him, looking up without even a crack of a smile.
“what's wrong?” he asks, suppressing the urge to get angry, to lash out at whoever-whatever, he doesn't care, made you feel this way. rafe knows he needs to stay calm for you, placing his hands on your hips and looking you in your chocolate brown eyes.
“i decided to walk today to vikeys.” you tell rafe, swallowing harshly.
“uh huh.” rafe knows you usually go to a friend's house when he's gone for the day, giving yourself something to do and also a chance to catch up when you can't be with your boyfriend.
“and i walked past that construction site. you know the new apartments being put up.” you wait for rafe to nod before continuing. “the… the workers there were on their lunch break and they…”
“what did they do?” rafe asks, harsh tone slipping into his voice, but you know it's not meant for you.
“they were just whistling at me at first. i tried to walk by faster, i crossed the street, but they just got louder. started talking about- about what they'd do to me.”
you don't have to say anything more for rafe to understand. he carefully pulls your legs down and pulls you to the edge of the marble countertop so he can press you against his chest, knowing that what you need at the moment is his touch, his hold.
“i got to vickys as soon as i could. i just felt disgusting, gross. she let me shower there and borrow a pair of clothes before driving me back home.”
“ill make sure to thank vicky for helping out my girl.” rafe presses a kiss to the top of your head. “you could have called me though, baby.”
“i-i know.” you look up at rafe, tears welling up. “i just wasn't thinking. i felt like i was in another body almost.”
“and how are you feeling now?” rafe asks, his hands gently petting up and down your back.
“better now that you're here.” you sigh out.
“did you eat?” rafe glances at the clock, knowing he's home a bit later than usual.
when you shake your head no, rafe pauses for a moment to think. “how about we order pizza and relax and watch that new season of the tv show you've been hounding me to see?” rafe sees a little spark back in your eyes just from the mention of relaxing with him.
“and im taking the rest of the week of work.” rafe grabs his phone out of his pocket to order pizza before you can argue, but there is one last piece of work rafe has to do before he can be satisfied.
--
you hum along to the song as rafes hand grips your thigh, the other on the steering wheel as he brings you back home from the country club, having went “golfing” with him, which really just means driving the cart around while he plays.
“rafe-” you turn to look at him with confusion when he turns down the wrong street.
“just want you to see something.” he says, pulling up to the construction site you got cat called in front of, the words echoing through your mind until rafe reminds you of where you are and who you're with with a soft squeeze of your leg, snapping you out of it.
you look at the sign in front of the fence. cameron developments.
“you… you bought whole apartment complex?”
“and fired the entire previous crew. they won't find work in this town again, trust me.”
“oh, rafe.” you launch yourself over the center console, kissing him deeply as your arms wrap around his shoulders.
“as much as i like kissing you, baby-” rafe says, mumbling against your lips. “how about we wait until we get home to continue this?”
you giggle and sit back on your seat as he speeds off.
sfw tags: @winterrrnight @ladyinbl00d @bejeweledreverie @ethanthequeefqueen @drewsephrry
#rafe fluff#rafe cameron fluff#obx fluff#outer banks fluff#rafe fic#rafe fanfic#rafe fanfiction#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron fanfic#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe x you#rafe x y/n#rafe x oc#rafe x reader#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x oc#rafe cameron x reader#rafe blurb#rafe drabble#rafe one shot#rafe imagine#rafe cameron blurb#rafe cameron drabble#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron one shot
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Mafia boss! Sukuna x Male reader
Notes- This was supposed to be a Gojo fic but Sukuna fitted this shit better its too dark for Gojo :(
Wc- 3055
Warnings: SMUT! NSFW, unprotected sex, dub-con, breeding, omegaverse, top/bottom, sub/dom, bottom male reader, overstimulation
Flashes of orange and yellow flames streaked past you, casting a fierce glow that punctuated the night with a hellish light. The deafening crack of gunshots shattered the eerie silence, bullets whizzing through the air like deadly fireflies. It was 10:00 p.m., and the city that never slept was now cloaked in an ominous stillness, save for the chaos erupting around you. Frantically, you ran, heart pounding like a war drum in your chest, fleeing from the world's most notorious mafia. For years, they had hunted down omegas with unrelenting ferocity, and tonight, you had become their latest target. As the last of your kind, you had been hiding from them for a long time. Unluckily, tonight marked the end of your concealment. You were unique, hailing from a wealthy lineage.
Your family had perished before your eyes, leaving you to carry on the bloodline. It was them. It had always been them. They murdered your family, your only family. And you had been too naive to do anything but hide, bearing all the responsibilities alone. But that was six years ago. Now, you needed to devise a way to throw them off your trail.
Bloodstains smeared almost your entire body. Your legs were limp, and one of your bones was broken. You fled toward the heart of the city, tears streaming down your cheeks as you sprinted away from the terrifying sounds of pursuit. The once-bustling metropolis had turned into a ghost town, its inhabitants cowering indoors, unwilling to risk becoming the mafia's next victim. The streets were deserted, the silence broken only by your ragged breathing and the distant echoes of violence.
Each step felt like an eternity as adrenaline surged through your veins. You could almost sense their presence behind you, a shadow of death closing in. It seemed they were tracking you by your scent. The sweet, floral fragrance that emanated from your body had made this escape even more challenging. Your sweet blood flowed through your veins, each drop hitting the ground and leaving a trail. You pressed your hands against your wounds, trying to stop the bleeding and prevent them from following your scent. Your mind raced, replaying the events that led to this desperate escape. It had begun with whispers, rumors of the mafia targeting omegas, and then the brutal reality struck as friends and acquaintances began to disappear, leaving only bloodstains and unanswered questions. Their actions were inexplicable: Why would they target people like you? You had witnessed countless deaths at their hands, many shot, others thrown into pits of fire. They burned all the bodies of their victims.
The neon lights of the city, once symbols of vibrancy and life, now cast eerie, elongated shadows that seemed to grasp at you. You rounded a corner, your feet slipping on the rain-slicked pavement. The distant wail of sirens was a cruel reminder that help would not come in time. You had to rely on your instincts and sheer will to survive.
Suddenly, a narrow alleyway caught your eye. Without thinking, you darted into it, hoping to lose your pursuers in the labyrinth of backstreets. But as you ran deeper, the walls seemed to close in, and the alley twisted into a nightmarish maze. The sound of footsteps grew louder, echoing off the brick walls, a relentless reminder that they were drawing closer.
Your frantic flight led you to a dead end, a towering brick wall blocking your path. Panic surged through you as you desperately tried to find a way over it, your fingers scrabbling at the rough surface. The wall loomed high above you, an insurmountable barrier that seemed to mock your desperation. You could hear their voices now, low and menacing, carried on the wind.
You turned to face them, your breath coming in short, terrified gasps. Shadows danced at the entrance of the alley, and then they emerged, dark silhouettes against the dim light. There was no escape. Your eyes darted around, seeking any possible way out, but there was none. The realization hit you like a tidal wave – you were trapped.
One of the men stepped forward, his face obscured by shadows, but the cold glint in his eyes was unmistakable. He raised his weapon, and in that split second, time seemed to slow. You braced yourself for the impact, expecting the searing pain of a bullet. Instead, there was a sharp sting, more like a needle prick than a gunshot.
Confusion mingled with the adrenaline, and a wave of dizziness washed over you. Your vision blurred, and your legs wobbled beneath you. You staggered, trying to stay upright, but your strength was failing. The world around you began to spin, the alleyway becoming a distorted swirl of colors and shadows.
With a final, desperate effort, you reached out to the wall, hoping to steady yourself, but it was too late. Your fingers brushed against the cold bricks before your legs gave way completely. You collapsed to the ground, the impact jarring but distant, as if it were happening to someone else. The cold, unforgiving pavement pressed against your cheek, and darkness crept in at the edges of your vision.
The last thing you saw before everything went black was the triumphant, merciless faces of your captors as they closed in around you. Their voices were muffled, distorted by the haze of unconsciousness, but the satisfaction in their tones was unmistakable. As the world faded away, one thought lingered in your mind – this was only the beginning of a nightmare that had no end in sight.
As the cold seeped into your bones, memories of happier times flickered in your mind like a fading film reel. You remembered your family's laughter, the warmth of your mother's embrace, and the security you felt in your father's presence. Those moments seemed like a lifetime ago, swallowed by the darkness of the present. The mafia had taken everything from you, and now they were about to take your freedom, perhaps even your life.
The darkness enveloped you completely, a void that swallowed all light and sound. Time lost its meaning as you drifted in and out of consciousness, your mind a whirlpool of fear and despair. When you finally awoke, you found yourself in a dimly lit room, the air thick with the smell of damp and decay. Your hands were bound, the rough ropes cutting into your wrists, and your body ached from the rough handling and the injuries sustained during your escape.
-
A single, flickering light bulb cast eerie shadows on the walls, and the faint sound of dripping water echoed in the background. The air was thick with the scent of mildew and something metallic—probably blood. You struggled to sit up, wincing at the pain that shot through your limbs with every small movement. Your captors had taken no chances, securing you tightly to a chair with heavy, rusted chains. The room was bare, save for a small table covered in ominous stains and a single door, which you guessed led to more horrors beyond.
The door creaked open, its sound amplified in the silence, and a figure stepped inside. It was the man who had shot you, his cold eyes glinting with cruel amusement. He approached slowly, savoring your fear, and knelt down to meet your gaze. His smile was a twisted parody of kindness, and his voice was soft, almost gentle, as he spoke.
"Welcome back to the land of the living," he said, his tone mocking. "You gave us quite the chase, but it seems the game is over now."
You glared at him, refusing to let him see the terror that gripped your heart. "What do you want from me?" you demanded, your voice hoarse from disuse and dry from lack of water.
The man chuckled, a low, chilling sound that echoed in the small room. "Oh, it's not me who wants something from you," he replied. He turned his head slightly towards the door, and with a simple, "Boss," he summoned another figure into the room.
A tall, hooded figure stepped in front of you. His eyes were as red as fire, and his hair was a lush cascade of pink, shimmering even in the dim light. His eyes furrowed as he looked down upon you, scrutinizing your scarred figure. His face etched into a grin that sent shivers down your spine. This was Sukuna, the infamous leader of the most feared mafia syndicate in the world.
Sukuna bowed down to your height, his intense gaze never leaving yours. He tilted his head slightly, scanning you as if you were a specimen in a lab. "Let me clear things up for you," he chuckled as he stood back up. "It's not about what we want. It's about what we need. You see, you are the last of your kind, and that makes you very valuable to us. And very valuable to me. Your blood, your lineage, your body."
You squinted your eyes, trying to understand what he was saying. It was hard to focus through the haze of pain and fear, but his words were starting to piece together a horrifying picture. They didn't just want to torture you; they wanted to exploit you, to use you for some nefarious purpose. The thought filled you with a renewed sense of defiance, and you vowed to fight them with every ounce of strength you had left.
Sukuna's voice dropped to a soft, almost affectionate tone. "I want you to be my mate," he said, his words causing a cold shiver to run down your spine. "Consider it a sacrifice; you'll be saving your race, your population. You can save them."
The words hit you like a physical blow. You struggled against your restraints, your mind racing. "Then why did you kill all of them?" you spat out, your voice trembling with rage and sorrow. "Why? Why do it if you just wanted someone? You could have just taken one and left the rest of us be."
Sukuna's grin widened, and there was a maddening glint in his eyes. "Why are you doing this?" you demanded, your voice breaking.
He leaned in close, so close you could feel his breath on your skin. "Oh, I only did this so I could finally get you," he said with a chilling calmness. "I wanted you, and you only. You managed to get away when we slaughtered your whole family. I only did this so I could be with you, my prince."
His words were a twisted declaration, and you could feel the bile rising in your throat. He chuckled as he whispered those words close to your ears, his breath hot and foul. He grazed his hand along your chin, lifting it to force you to look into his eyes.
"Clean him up, then bring him to my room," he ordered the man who had shot you. "I want him clean when I see him again." With a final smirk, Sukuna turned away from you and walked out of the room, leaving you with the chilling promise of what was to come.
The man who had shot you moved to obey Sukuna's orders. He released the chains that held you to the chair, though he left your hands bound behind your back. You were too weak to resist, too weak to do anything but stumble as he dragged you out of the room and down a long, dimly lit corridor.
The corridor seemed to stretch on forever, each step echoing off the cold, stone walls. The faint sound of dripping water followed you, a constant reminder of the dank, underground prison you found yourself in. You were led into another room, this one slightly less decrepit than the last. It had a small basin of water, a towel, and a change of clothes laid out on a table.
The man pushed you towards the basin. "Clean yourself up," he said gruffly. You stared at the water, the reflection of your battered face staring back at you. Every movement was painful, but you forced yourself to comply, knowing that any defiance now would only result in more pain.
You washed as best as you could with your hands still bound, the cold water stinging your wounds. When you were done, the man handed you the change of clothes—a simple, clean shirt and pants. He watched you closely as you struggled to dress yourself, his eyes never leaving you.
Once you were dressed, he grabbed your arm and led you out of the room again. You were taken to yet another corridor, this one even darker and more foreboding than the last. The silence was oppressive, broken only by the sound of your footsteps and the occasional distant echo of voices.
Finally, you were brought to a large, imposing door. The man knocked once, then pushed it open, revealing a lavishly decorated room. Rich tapestries adorned the walls, and expensive-looking furniture filled the space. It was a stark contrast to the squalor of the rest of the compound.
Sukuna was waiting for you inside, seated in an ornate chair. He looked up as you entered, a satisfied smile spreading across his face. "Ah, there you are," he said, his voice dripping with mock warmth. "You look much better now."
You stood there, your body tense and your mind racing. What was he planning? What did he want from you? The uncertainty was almost worse than the pain. Sukuna rose from his chair and approached you, his eyes never leaving yours.
"Come, sit with me," he said, gesturing to a chair opposite his. "We have much to discuss."
You hesitated, but the man behind you gave you a sharp shove, forcing you to comply. You sat down, your hands still bound, and glared at Sukuna. "What do you want from me?" you repeated, your voice filled with defiance.
Sukuna's smile widened. "I told you, didn't I? I want you to be my mate. Together, we can rebuild your race, your people. You are the key to everything."
His words were like a knife to your heart. You couldn't believe what you were hearing. "Why would I ever agree to that?" you demanded.
"Because you have no choice," Sukuna said simply. "Either you cooperate, or you watch as I destroy everything you hold dear. The choice is yours."
His words hung in the air, a chilling ultimatum that left you feeling more trapped than ever. You knew you had to find a way out, to escape this nightmare. But for now, all you could do was sit and listen, and wait for the right moment to strike.
-
"Leave," He ordered, "I want some privacy." The men in front of the door nodded and leaved in order.
Sukuna walked around the table, his eyes never leaving yours. He leaned down, his face inches from yours. "I can see the defiance in your eyes," he murmured. "It's...exciting."
You turned your head away, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a response. But Sukuna grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him. His grip was strong, almost painfully so. "Don't look away from me," he said softly.
He pressed his lips to yours, the kiss rough and demanding. You tried to pull away, but his hand on your chin held you in place. His tongue forced its way into your mouth, claiming you in a way that left no room for doubt—he was in control.
When he finally pulled back, you were breathless, a mixture of anger and confusion swirling inside you. Sukuna's eyes glittered with satisfaction. "See? That wasn't so hard," he said, his voice mocking.
He reached down and began to unbutton your shirt, his fingers moving with a practiced ease. You tensed, every muscle in your body screaming at you to fight, to resist. But the man behind you had a firm grip on your shoulders, holding you in place.
Sukuna's hands roamed over your chest, his touch both gentle and possessive. "You're beautiful," he murmured, almost to himself. "So perfect."
You shuddered, a mixture of fear and unwanted arousal coursing through you. Sukuna's hands moved lower, unbuttoning your pants and sliding them down your legs. He knelt in front of you, his eyes dark with desire. "I want to taste you," he said softly, his breath hot against your skin.
A sudden tug was felt on your shirt, Sukuna lifted you up. Everything went by so fast, your were now on his bed. Your shirt and your pants was tossed to the ends of the bed leaving you bare with your underwear wet as your cock begging to spring out. Your face was flushed between your hands as Sukuna chuckled "You're too cute to handle, boy" He soon unbuttoned his polo, leaving his body bare for you to see.
His body was toned, veins aching from every muscle. His jawline defined, his hands were scarred, veins and bones revealing themselves under the skin of his hands. He moved down to you as he whispered to your ears, "You're mine."
Sukuna groaned as he held your hips with harsh and fast thrusts. Every thrust he makes make you squeal and let out moans. Your body now aching with love bites and hickeys as you left scratches on Sukuna's back. His fast thrusts soon slowed as he leaned on you, "Take all of my pups for me, yeah?" He groaned as he came, knotting your insides as you came on his stomach. Your moans shifted into breathless sighs.
One round turned into 20. Its been 1 hour and a half before his dick throbbed your insides. His shape now taking form of your hole, "Ugh...! N-no Ah..., more....." You moaned as you whispered in his ears. "You don't get to order me," He groaned as he whispered back to you, "Just one more darling. Raise all my pups inside you..." He leaned closer to your face as he planted a kiss on your forehead as he thrusts in and out of you. You hugged him tightly as you felt your climax. One final thrust, his cock spurted out his pups in you for the twentieth time.
You breathed heavily, as your rested your head on the mattress. His hands trailed to your neck to your jaw, moving your head to face him. "I'm not done with you," He says as he kissed you on your neck, through your chin and on your lips. He groaned as he laid next to you. Your head facing his chest as his hands covered your waist.
#x male reader#anime x male reader#fanfic#x you#gay#jjk x male reader#sukuna#sub male reader#bottom male reader#ryomen sukuna#sukuna ryomen#jjk sukuna#jjk x you#jjk x reader#sukuna x male reader#sukuna x reader#jjk fanfic#jjk x y/n#jjk fic#jjk au#jujutsu kaisen x reader#sukuna x you#sukuna x y/n
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sweet angel.
pairing: lee felix x f reader. warnings: exhibitionism, skirt kink, fingering (f receiving), thigh grinding, teasing, dirty talks, profanities. genre: established relationship, smut. rating: explicit. word count: 2.7k.
Felix is the pristine epitome of joy. Radiance. A bright spirit.
One time Chan was told to describe Felix in a word on a post-it note for the younger’s birthday party and the dude ended up scribbling ‘the embodiment of warmth of the first light of day when you wake up on a Saturday morning, and the vibrance of the sundown when you walk along the shore until dusk takes over’.
Changbin and Jisung wrote ‘sunshine’.
And Hyunjin calls him ‘angel’ sometimes.
You wouldn’t argue. Because you believe that even the sweetest angel would carry the weight of their own deepest darkest secret.
And it was like a trump card when you accidentally found out the one thing that was able to coax out of another side of your angelic boyfriend you’d never seen before.
Two weeks ago when Felix had let you ride him for the first time, he’d shyly asked you to keep your mini plaid skirt on. The hem of the cotton fabric tickled your thigh every time you tried to sink yourself down onto his length that it had been uncomfortable.
But he’d begged… eyes coated with tears as they stared down at where you rolled your hips, his fingers digging deep into the flesh of your thighs. You’d never heard him growl so deep. And you’d felt his gloved cock inside you twitch uncontrollably.
Oh…
Who would have ever guessed that the sweet angel turned out to be that kinky…
And for some egotistical reason that was your own satisfaction, you wanted to verify your presumption.
“You’re not coming?” Seungmin inquired as you and Jisung strode over from the rented beach house with clean beach towels and a cooler filled with chilled canned drinks in hands.
His brows arched in confusion when he saw you in a white bra top and a pleated flowy mini skirt instead of your swimsuit.
At his side, Felix was peeling off his clothes to initially join the others on the shore. He tossed his shirt and sweats on a beach chair unceremoniously that they ended up falling to the ground.
The light freckles littering across his pale skin and the chiselled abs he always took pride in were exposed to view, whilst his lower half was barely protected by black swim trunks that were providentially too tight around the crotch.
Despite the glory of his frame, you almost laughed when you noticed the burning gaze he sent in your direction.
You perched on one of the beach chairs circling around a picnic table that had warped and bleached in several spots. A canned orange juice securely wrapped around one hand.
Your eyes flitted between Seungmin and the others whose laughter roared as the waves crashed into their bodies. You would’ve been tempted if you were to contemplate longer, but you shrugged, “nope. Not in the mood anymore.”
Seungmin wanted to say something about that but Jisung dashed across the beach still fully clothed, urgently taking part in what seemed to be an attempt at drowning Changbin whose screeches echoing through the air as the rest of the guys were carrying him into the ocean.
Seungmin followed closely behind, leaving you and your boyfriend alone.
You didn’t miss how Felix was practically burning holes into your skirt with a glare so fierce that one would’ve confused it with a look of hatred if they didn’t know better.
“You’re not swimming?” you tilted your head, as if you were genuinely curious.
He tore his gaze away from you, imitating how you shrugged your shoulders just minutes before, “nope. Not in the mood anymore.”
You snorted, earning a chuckle from him.
His fingers carded through his tousled, blonde tresses as he sat down on a chair beside you. He hunched over, grabbing a drink from the cooler on the table. The pad of his thumb twiddled upon the tab of the non-alcoholic canned cocktail before he swigged the refreshing liquid down his throat in a couple gulps.
“You look impressive by the way.” He spoke, twirling the can in his hand as he was blatantly staring you up and down. Gawking was probably more fitting since you knew enough to take notice of a hint of curiosity, adoration and lust all combined in the way his deep brown irises glinted in your direction.
His gaze lingered a little longer at your skirt, and he wasn’t being subtle about it. As though he wanted you to know.
And you surely did know.
Your cheeks bunched up towards the eyes at how wide your smile was at the complement. You leaned over to the armrest of his chair, grinning as you spoke, “you like my new skirt?”
A faint pinkish tint that unfurled across his freckled cheeks spread even wider to his ears. He smiled, “I love your new skirt.”
He tipped up your chin, planting a featherlike kiss on your bottom lip. He glanced down, fingers beginning to fiddle with the soft fabric of your skirt before they trailed down along the exposed skin of your thigh.
“Come sit in my lap.”
As if you couldn’t have seen it coming.
He carelessly put his drink on the sand below his seat as you got up on your feet. The other hand remained settled on your thigh, guiding you to perch down between his legs as he spread them wider.
But you looked down at him with a frown, “not in your lap,” you sighed, putting the word out carefully to emphasize your wish, “on your lap, please?”
Chan was right about the part of Felix being the epitome of ‘...the vibrance of sundown when you walk along the shore until dusk’ because he indeed looked lovely with the radiant glow of the golden sunrays gleaming across his freckled, flushed face. Let alone when his eyes sparkled as he stared up at you like a puppy staring at their favourite treat— as though there wasn’t anything obscene currently going through his filthy little mind.
It was unfair that the universe had granted him such a taintless facade.
His perfectly plump and heart-shaped lips tilted up into a grin of anticipation. His hand gripped your thigh a little tighter, guiding you to plump yourself down on his lap. “Of course. Anything for my baby.”
Anyone expecting this to remain an innocent cuddle session is a hypocrite. Felix never intended to keep it appropriate even when you were both in public, in spite of it being a private beach house, too.
But it was the way his palms clutched tightly at each side of your waist to keep you perfectly still on his lap that you knew he wasn’t at all expecting this— there wasn’t any form-fitting clothing whose current primary role was as a barrier between your bottom and his thighs. His swim trunks were mid thigh-length that he could right away take notice of the absence of underwear beneath your skirt.
His legs tensed. His smile faltered.
Your legs relaxed. Your smile widened.
It wasn’t like you meant to tug yourself away from him anyway, but he had his fingers dug into the flesh of your waist as if to entirely nail your ass into his thighs.
His hand led you to shift backwards, allowing your back to lean flush against his chest and your head to rest on his shoulder all while making your naked ass gently graze against the soft surface of his thigh.
“You cunning little vixen.” His voice went impossibly deeper. Something darker laced in his tone, “you’ve had this all planned out, haven’t you now?”
You giggled. Your palms gripped his arms as you moved your hips painfully slowly in an attempt to grind down on him. “But don’t you like it?”
“You’ve no idea.” His voice was nigh to a growl. You had to do more to pull a deeper, sexier one out of him.
His lips dangerously hovered over the juncture of your neck. One of his hands left your waist, shoving its way underneath the fabric of your skirt and kneading your inner thigh.
“But what’d you do if the boys decided to stay?” His mouth latched onto your neck, the hand under your skirt skimmer higher, careful not to touch where you felt hot (and undoubtedly damp) as you kept on grinding on him, “would you let me watch?”
“Maybe,” you responded through gritted teeth, having to hold back from bucking your hips up to make his fingers touch you. Your dignity wouldn’t let you give in first when the plan was to make him lose his mind for you. Speaking of dignity. “It’s good entertainment.”
A moan slipped past your parted lips when his fingertips suddenly pressed roughly against your clit. You arched your back, riding his thigh more impatient to get more friction. He grunted, “I wouldn’t tolerate that.”
“Oh, I know for certain you wouldn’t ignore me regardless,” you spoke in between ragged breaths as he planted open-mouthed kisses along the side of your neck, “not when I wear something you couldn’t resist.”
He huffed, but never said anything about that either. His hand on your waist ushered you to grind faster and his fingers on your clit rubbed circles in a sudden unforgiving pace that your thighs trembled. Fucking finally. “We’ll do this in front of a mirror next time… wanna see you so bad… you’ll look so beautiful grinding on my thighs like this…”
You smiled at his words. This wasn’t the only new cute skirt you’d recently bought for some special occasion. Of course there would be a next time with another brand new cute skirt. There should be a next time.
Nothing in the moment could triumph over what you were feeling. The sun was blossoming bold hues of red and gold across the skies as it was beginning to set below the horizon, representing a majestic reflection along the surface of the blue ocean. Its splendour, and the building pleasure in the pit of your stomach as he stroked his fingers on your clit, you thought of doing something similar next time. Because, fuck, was it nice to be taken care of while you watched the sunset.
He had yet to carry through what his fingers could do but you were already a mess. His thigh was soaked with slick that trickled down out of your entrance as you rode him more eagerly. You needed more to soothe the tingle in your abdomen.
“Fuck, baby, you’re always so good to me.” He grunted, very appreciative of the way you kept on just wetting his thighs.
You smiled dumbly, closing your eyes to fully relish in the pleasure, “I am. I always am.”
He pulled you back closer to his chest as if to completely mould your bodies into one. You squirmed when your naked ass landed on his clothed upper thigh as he was bucking his hips up to meet your pace.
But a whinier moan was coaxed out of your throat when you suddenly felt a protruding bulge dig right between your buttocks, slightly intruding your rim.
You weren’t the only one affected.
Felix sucked the flesh of your neck into his plump lips when his tip nudged against you, his moan muffled against your skin as he became more impatient. The hand on your waist travelled further up to grasp your clothed breast firmly in his palm, before sneakily slipping inside the bra. You gasped, mewled, almost screamed when his thumb and forefinger tugged at your perked, sensitive bud.
Before you could anticipate anything, his middle finger slid past your entrance without a word of waning, pulling a whine out of you so loud that Felix had to briefly look up at the others.
No one seemed to have noticed. But even if they had, he doubted he’d even do anything about it. There was no way he would be willing to stop his finger midway and push you off his lap just because one of them had heard your moan amongst the gentle waves. He could just pretend it was an innocent cuddle session…. Couldn’t he?
That would be fucked up.
Anyway.
He bucked his hips up again to gain more friction for his aching erection. The words coming out of your mouth was but a chain of incoherence. He could only get “please” “more” “Felix” out of it. He was proud.
Still, it wasn’t enough.
Sometime amidst thrusting his finger into your entrance, his ring finger came in to assist, stretching your walls wider. You dug your nails into the flesh of his arms at your sides, seeking support as you felt your body slowly melt into the pleasure that was almost too overwhelming to bear.
Your curling toes were sinking deeper into the soft and warm sand, back arched, head thrown back, lips parted. Felix would love to see you through the mirror, what a shame.
His fingers curled inside you, looking for a certain spot that would bring you heaven. You almost jolted, if it wasn’t for his hand on your chest holding you down, when his fingertips ever so slightly prodded at that particular spot inside you. Felix smiled. Grinning, even.
Whines and moans and sighs and almost incomprehensible cries of his name were all combined as he plunged his fingers upwards at a faster pace and kept it directed at that spot.
For a moment there you couldn’t make sense of where you were. Your mind was hazy with utmost bliss, warmth was enveloping the whole of your body like a thick fluffy cloud, and electricity surging through your veins that you couldn’t help but tremble in his hold.
It was when his fingers reached incredibly deeper that the heat in the pit of your stomach suddenly exploded, its blaze proliferating within your body. You cried out his name one last time in a whiny moan as your body was quivering uncontrollably on top of him.
More slick dripping out of your entrance as you tried to grind down on his drenched thigh more. But it wasn’t the only thing that made his swim trunks damp. He, too, was releasing beads of precum as he bit down your shoulder to muffle his moans.
The raging flame in your abdomen slowly dwindled into as small as that of candle light, at the same time as when the golden rays of the spring sun were beginning to slowly dwindle into twilight.
You were sated. And Felix didn’t even have to take his shorts off.
It was completely dark when you let your body rest limp against him. The tide began to rise, and the rhythmic sound of the ocean waves crashing against the shore helped you relax. Behind you, Felix was diligently cleaning up his fingers with his tongue whilst occasionally letting out hums of satisfaction.
But it was the sound of Chan’s squeaky giggles, Jisung’s dramatic whines, Minho’s blaring shrieks, and their inaudible chatters that made you jolt up in alarm.
Felix had his palm firmly gripped your waist keeping you still on his lap before you could get up. He pulled one of the beach towels from the table and spread it over your and his lower half.
You’d thought he was being considerate in case you were cold. But you had to grit your teeth to muffle any inappropriate sounds that were about to slip past your lips when he slid the elastic waistband of his swim trunks off his waist, not completely but low enough to release his fully erected length from restraint.
As though to torture you further, he pulled you closer by the waist until his tip nudge your swollen folds.
Inhaling a long sigh to compose yourself, you tried to sit more comfortably so as to appear normal for the others who were approaching. Though you hoped it was dark enough for them to notice nothing more than a mere disgustingly cuddly couple.
You wanted to curse at him. But whose idea was this in the first place anyway?
He kissed your shoulder before latching his mouth onto your neck, precisely at the sweet spot, making the hairs on the back of your neck erect.
“You started it,” he chuckled, half whispering, “you finish it.”
#skz fictions#stray kids imagines#skz imagines#skz smut#stray kids x reader#skz felix#felix smut#lee felix smut#felix imagines
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And here it is, part 4 of the Room Fic! ...or well. part of part 4.
see, Part 4 is going to be pretty long and take me awhile, so I decided to release it on tumblr as I go, in parts. and since we're already in a numbered list, I'll go by letters now. So this is Part 4 Part A!
it's fine, it makes sense!
I'm going to release it here on tumblr in parts, and then when it's all done I'll put it on AO3, and probably do some proper editing and may add/fix some things up once the whole thing is written. So consider this a semi-WIP. but I doubt it will change much because I usually don't change things too much after I finish writing them haha
anyway, hope you enjoy!
content warnings: discussions of food issues, anxiety, aftermath of torture
also, if you're confused, start here!
-----
Raph spots the change in Leo’s train car on the way to breakfast. He stops and tries to make sense of it for a minute, before making his way to the kitchen.
Mikey is already there, as is Splinter, making some tea. “Morning!” Mikey trills, scraping some scrambled eggs into a big platter.
“Mornin’,” Raph echoes back. He meant to sound neutral at worst, but his tone still earns a worried look from Mikey.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothin’s wrong,” Raph says quickly. “I just… noticed Leo did some redecorating.”
“Oh, yeah…” Mikey chews on his lip. “What’s up with that?”
“I dunno, but it makes Raph uneasy.”
“What is it?” asks Splinter, looking at them each in turn.
“Leo covered up all his windows,” Mikey tells him.
“Ah, I see.” Splinter sets cups in front of them, followed by the tea pot. “I will go check on him.”
Splinter leaves Mikey and Raph looking at each other uncertainly.
“Why would he need the windows covered?” asks Mikey. “What does he need to hide from here?”
“I dunno, Mike.” Raph sighs. “I guess he doesn’t feel safe yet.”
“But he’s home,” Mikey insists. “He’s with us.”
“Yeah,” says Raph, because he doesn’t know what else to say.
“I told him to talk to us if anything’s bothering him.” Mikey taps the spatula against the empty skillet. “He said he would, but…”
Raph doesn’t know if he should feel surprised or not. “He hasn’t talked to you about anything?”
Mikey scowls. “Nothing important,” he says.
Raph chuckles. “Well, you are his little brother-“
“I’m not that little!” Mikey snaps, throwing the spatula down and rounding on Raph.
Raph’s a little surprised by the sudden anger. Sure, Mikey has been insisting on his independence more and more, but this is more aggressive than usual.
“Raph didn’t mean anything by it,” he says, but Mikey doesn’t stop glaring. Raph is saved by Splinter’s return.
“He is sleeping quite soundly,” their dad announces, hopping up onto a stool and grabbing for the platter of eggs. “He was even drooling a bit.” Splinter chuckles.
“Okay, but you’re going to ask about it when he wakes up, right?” asks Mikey.
“No.” Splinter scoops the eggs onto his plate. “If he wants to explain, he will.”
“You don’t think it’s… I dunno. Concerning?” Raph asks.
“It is not hurting anyone. And it has helped your brother sleep. There’s nothing wrong with it,” says Splinter, and it has an air of finality.
Mikey looks unsatisfied with that outcome, but he doesn’t say anything. He fixes a plate for Leo and puts it into the microwave for safekeeping.
Raph isn’t sure where he lands. All he knows is that he sure as heck isn’t going to be the one to ask about it.
-----
Leo comes in about twenty minutes later, after they’ve already finished eating. He’s still wearing his pajamas, one of his thinner throw blankets, with the Jupiter Jim logo, pulled around his shoulders like a shawl. If you focus on his torso, he almost looks like a healthy teenager, thanks to his shell.
But his hands are still drawn and thin where they grip the fabric, his wrists bony where they peek out of his sleeves. His cheeks are still sunken in and his skin hasn’t regained its usual vibrancy. And there’s a subtle shake to his movements, like the effort it took to walk from his room to the kitchen was immense.
Oh, and there’s the absolutely devastated look on his face when he sees the empty plates.
Raph remembers, again, when Leo had practically begged them not to let him sleep through breakfast in the motel, and he feels a sick twist of his stomach.
“Geez, you guys didn’t leave any for me?” he asks, and his voice sounds light and joking and completely at odds with the expression on his face. Raph is pretty sure Leo doesn’t even know he looks like that; their self-appointed face man, who usually has so much control over his appearance, not even aware of how far his heart has slipped onto his sleeve.
“We have you a plate right here,” says Mikey, scrambling to open the microwave. “Want me to warm it up any?”
“No,” says Leo a little too quickly. His eyes stay locked on the plate even as he pulls on a smile that is so carefree it’s in obvious opposition with the rest of him. “I’m sure it’s fine - thanks, Angelo.”
Mikey tries to smile as he hands the lukewarm plate of eggs and toast to Leo. Leo takes it and grabs his fork with urgency he tries not to show. His bites are so steady and evenly paced that Raph bets he could clap the beat out if he wanted to - Leo doing all he can not to look like he’s scarfing.
Okay, so Leo clearly isn’t better yet; it doesn’t take a genius to figure that out. Any conversations Raph wants to have about what happened in that room will have to wait. That’s okay - he can be patient.
To keep from watching too obviously, he takes out his phone. April texted the group chat twenty minutes ago, saying she had some homework to catch up on but she’ll be coming over later today. Raph’s glad, because having her around keeps them all in better spirits. He spends way longer than necessary trying to find the exact gif to use as a reaction to the news.
“Can I have another piece of toast?” Leo asks, pulling Raph’s attention from his phone. He’s already eaten the ones Mikey gave him, and about half his eggs. He taps his fork against the empty half of his plate at a quick pace.
Is this the first time Leo has actually asked for something outright? Raph isn’t sure.
Mikey grimaces and checks his phone. “Barry said to give you that much… Oh, but if you’re still hungry, you can have yogurt!”
He opens the fridge to retrieve it. Leo scowls, scooping up a bite of eggs with more force than before, the scrape of metal on porcelain.
“Barry said,” he grumbles. “How long do we gotta listen to that guy?”
“He’s doing a lot of work to help you, Leo,” says Raph. “He seems to know what he’s talkin’ about.”
“Aw, come on. It’s one piece of toast!” Leo leans toward Mikey. “It’s not gonna hurt me!”
His voice is light, almost joking, but he’s doing it again: that sad, pitiful look. Raph is sure he doesn’t know he’s doing it.
It feels impossible to deny that face. Raph looks at Mikey, who looks back at him, both of them equally unsure.
“Well…” says Mikey weakly, glancing back toward the toaster. He’s going to give in, and Raph can’t blame him. Splinter doesn’t step in to help, either. “Barry said…”
Leo smiles. It looks almost manic. “What Draxum doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” he says in a singsong.
“What won’t I know?”
Raph jumps. Everyone jumps - some family of ninja they are.
Draxum stands at the foot of the escalator into their makeshift kitchen, arms folded. Raph has to hold back a sigh of relief, and he sees Mikey’s shoulders sag in turn. Leo scowls, whirling to glare at Draxum.
“Oh, come on!” he snaps. “Don’t you have other teenagers to torture today?”
“It’s Saturday,” says Draxum, crossing the room to sit at a chair. “So you have the benefit of my full attention.”
“Auuugh,” Leo groans, slumping dramatically at the table, and ignoring the effect his casual use of the word torture has had on everyone else in the room. Raph feels ill. Mikey looks it.
“Can Blue have another piece of toast?” Splinter asks, cutting through the awkward silence that follows this. He sounds almost annoyed as Leo, but as far as Raph can tell he’s letting Draxum take the lead on this one. Raph wonders if they’ve talked about it without him or his brothers around.
“Hmmm…” Draxum looks at Leo’s plate, considering. “Finish your eggs and yogurt first. If you’re still hungry, you may have another piece. But only if you’re hungry.” His expression turns even more stern, leveled directly at Leo. “Do not eat if your stomach is full. You’ll make yourself sick.”
“I’m not gonna make myself sick,” Leo argues.
“Hmph,” says Draxum, the short noise coated thick in disbelief. He doesn’t say anything more. Leo goes back to his rhythmic eating.
Raph grabs the empty plates from Mikey and Splinter and takes them to wash. Anything to keep himself from staring at Leo. And it’s his lucky day: there’s a whole stack of a distraction waiting for him in the sink. He runs the hot water and gets to work.
“Morning, family,” comes Donnie’s sleepy voice a few minutes later. Raph doesn’t look, and he doesn’t have to, because Donnie characteristically beelines straight for the coffee pot on the counter. Raph knew he went to his room after their talk in the lab the day before, but he’s not sure how much sleep Donnie actually got.
He leans sluggishly against the counter and checks his phone while the coffee brews. Raph keeps his focus on the dishes. Leo finishes his eggs and Draxum agrees to half a piece of toast - Mikey scrapes his stool against the floor as he jumps up to make it.
Donnie fills his mug and immediately takes a drink with no fear of scalding his mouth. Then he turns around and says, “Why’d you cover all the windows in your train car, Leo?”
Raph fumbles and drops the dish he had just pulled from the soapy water - thankfully it doesn’t break on the way down. Next to him, Mikey freezes. The toaster dings into the silence.
“Oh, that,” says Leo, nonchalant. Raph doesn’t turn around, so he has no idea if his face matches his tone this time. “I was just trying to envision how the room would look with curtains.”
“Using towels?”
“What can I say, I’m a visual guy.”
“Hmm…” Donnie pushes off the counter and disappears from Raph’s view. “Well, did you decide you want curtains?”
“Uh, yeah… I think it would really up the feng shui in the joint! And our old rooms didn’t have any windows, so too much light gets into the train car when I’m trying to sleep, anyway.”
The argument rolls so naturally off Leo’s tongue that Raph is impressed.
“Okay,” says Donnie simply. “I can install curtain rods in your room later. I actually have some leftover scrap metal that I’ve been trying to find a purpose for, and I think it will work well for this.”
“Really? You’ll do it today?”
“Yes. I don’t have anything else on my to-do list… that can’t wait until tomorrow.”
Leo chuckles, but he sounds genuinely happy when he says, “Thanks, Dee.”
“And I have some leftover fabric I can sew into curtains,” Splinter adds. “You can use them until you’re well enough to find some you prefer.”
“Yeah? You don’t mind?”
“Of course not, Blue! It will be a nice little project to keep my old hands busy.”
“Thanks, Dad,” says Leo sincerely. There’s some shifting around like he’s getting an ever-coveted Splinter Hug. It lasts a beat longer than those hugs normally do. Raph can’t blame his dad - if he could, he’d pick Leo up and never let him go again.
He hears a clink next to him and turns his head. Mikey has buttered Leo’s toast, but now he’s standing still, a pensive frown on his face, the butter knife clenched in his fist.
“Hey, Leo,” he says, turning around, and Raph senses danger. He turns around, too, watching as Mikey approaches the table. “Is that the only reason you want curtains?”
Leo looks between the toast and Mikey’s face. He tenses up, the empty yogurt cup crinkling in his grip. “Yeah, that’s all,” he says.
“Are you sure?” Mikey asks. He still has the half slice of toast in his hands. Leo’s eyes keep catching on it.
“What’s there to be sure about, Miguel?” he asks. “It’s just curtains. Lots of people have ‘em.”
“It’s just that you never said anything about it before. And now suddenly you need curtains today?” Mikey’s hands wave and take the toast with them - Leo’s eyes track the movement. “You told me, if anything is-“
“Michelangelo,” says Splinter sternly, making everyone jump for the second time this morning. “That is your brother’s toast - give it to him.”
Mikey seems to remember the food in his hands at that exact moment. He grimaces, quickly depositing the toast onto Leo’s plate. Leo’s face has that sad, desperate quality to it again as he grabs the toast in his fingers, like he has to make sure no one else will take it.
Mikey backs away from the table, crestfallen. The silence that ensues is uncomfortable again.
“Uh… well I think the curtains will look great!” says Raph. “Snazzy!”
Snazzy? Oh Pizza Supreme in the Sky help him.
“…Thanks, Raph,” says Leo, and takes a bite of toast. It doesn’t have the same warmth from before, and the awkwardness is thick now.
Raph dries the dish he has in his hands and sets it on the counter, pops the drain plug, and quicksteps for the doorway.
“I’m going to do my morning training!” he calls, to convince everyone, especially himself, that he isn’t running away.
-----
Leo sits alone in his dad’s recliner, staring very hard at the opposite wall and willing himself not to barf.
The piddling amount of eggs and toast he ate at breakfast would not have been enough to fill him up even three weeks ago, but now it’s stuffed his shrunken stomach. The truth is, he’d been full when he bargained with Draxum for another piece of toast, but he hadn’t been willing to let the fight go.
Besides, he doesn’t know when he’ll get food next. And better to be overfull than hungry.
He’s being dramatic, of course. He’ll get food at lunch… probably. No, definitely, because he’s home and his family would never deny him food.
Except, the way Mikey had held his toast and demanded answers about the curtains…
Leo really thought he had gotten away with it, too. No one said anything until Donnie did, and Donnie had seemed completely convinced by Leo’s casual responses! But of course Mikey saw through him. Mikey’s as keen when it comes to people as Leo himself is, but where Leo uses that insight to manipulate and obfuscate, Mikey uses it to tear open, to expose.
Leo will have to watch out, next time. He can’t let half-thought through excuses stand between him and food.
Not that they’d actually keep food from him. Because they love him and they’re his family. He’s just being weird again.
Still…
His stomach gurgles uncomfortably, and Leo grips the arms of the chair. He really doesn’t want to throw up. Besides the mess he’ll make of the recliner, and the unpleasantness of the sensation, he doesn’t want to lose everything he ate earlier. He still doesn’t know when he’s going to eat again. If he loses it here, he’ll truly have nothing.
“Blue? Are you alright?”
He turns his head. Splinter is standing by the chair, looking up at him. It occurs to Leo he didn’t actually ask if he could sit here, and he starts to push himself up.
“I can get in a beanbag-”
“No no, it’s alright,” says his dad, hopping up onto the chair to join Leo. He does it so lightly the recliner barely jostles. “You’re alright, Blue. Just breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth.”
Leo does as he’s told, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. He wonders how his dad seems to know the problem without having to be told - from raising four children alone, most likely. After a moment, he feels the chair move, the back reclining and the footrest coming up under his legs. Then furry hands gently tug his blanket from around his shoulders and spread it out over his whole body.
“There we go,” says Splinter after that’s done. “Are you comfy, Blue?”
All Leo can do is give a tiny nod of his head; anything more aggravates the nausea. It seems Splinter understands, though, as he hums approvingly and hops off the chair.
“What’s wrong?” asks a new voice, and Leo grits his teeth. He doesn’t move from his spot, though.
“Blue just needs some rest,” says Splinter.
“He ate too much, didn’t he?” Draxum asks, tone irritated. “I told him not to have more unless he was actually hungry-”
“Stop,” Splinter commands, in that firm tone that can’t be argued with. “We will talk about this later.”
Leo wonders if he’s included in the we. But Draxum grumbles something under his breath and retreats, leaving Leo and his dad alone again.
“Don’t worry about him,” says Splinter, moving to turn on the projector. “I’ll deal with it. You just get some rest, Blue.”
He turns on one of his stories on low volume, then climbs back into the chair and settles in beside Leo. The soft whir of the projector, the quiet voices of the actors, and his dad’s breathing lull him into a doze. The nausea, eventually, passes.
-----
After his workout, Raph goes to check on everyone again. It’s becoming a routine.
Splinter’s loud snores lead Raph to him and Leo, both sound asleep in the recliner in the TV room. Raph would wonder how Leo can sleep through that, but he remembers that their dad’s snores used to be piped directly into his room in their old lair. If anything, this is probably nostalgic for him.
Draxum’s in the kitchen. Apparently they’re stuck with him for the weekend. Raph decides not to say anything to him and slips away before he’s noticed.
Now to find his other little brothers. He heads straight for the lab first, already knowing it’s where Donnie would be at this time of day, even if he hadn’t promised to make curtain rods for Leo.
He has to go through the same song and dance as the day before with the voice lock, but the door slides open soon enough, and Raph walks in on an argument. At least he won’t have to go searching for Mikey.
“-don’t understand why you’re so worked up about it,” Donnie is saying. He’s bent over his workbench, goggles pulled down, soldering iron in hand but not on. “It’s just curtains.”
“Because everyone’s acting like it’s not weird!” Mikey argues. He spins on his heel, looking at Raph beseechingly. “Raph, you agree with me, right!?”
“Raph just got here,” Raph says, folding his arms. “Mind filling me in on what we’re arguing about?” Even though he already has a good guess.
“We aren’t arguing,” says Donnie, at the same time Mikey snaps, “Leo, duh!” Donnie sighs, raising his goggles and turning around.
“Mikey is upset that I’m making Leo the curtain rods he asked for.”
“I’m not upset about the curtain rods! But you’re all acting like this is totally normal!”
“Curtains are normal!”
“Leo asking for the curtains is not normal,” Mikey presses. “What does he even need them for!? We live underground!”
“He complained about the light coming through the windows.”
“And he never thought to mention it once over the months we’ve been living here? Come on, Donald, use your brain!”
“Excuse you, I am always using my brain-”
“Leo’s got insomnia, Mikey,” Raph interjects. “Maybe a totally dark room helps him sleep better.”
“He had insomnia in the old lair, too,” Mikey retorts. “And he’s so tired right now all he does is sleep! He was sleeping in the TV room when I came in here!”
Raph doesn’t have a response for that. And the thing is, he thinks he has an idea why Leo wants to block out his windows, and it has nothing to do with his insomnia. But he doesn’t know how much to tell Mikey now. Not without bringing up the security footage.
Maybe Donnie has the same thought, because when Raph glances his way their eyes lock.
Of course, Mikey notices. Because Mikey is just as observant as Leo, when it comes to people.
“You guys know something,” he says, looking between them.
“No,” says Donnie, too fast.
Mikey pouts at him. “Donald.”
“Leo hasn’t told us any more than he’s told anyone else,” says Raph.
“But you know something. How could you…” His eyes go wide. “The security footage. Donnie copied it all.”
“Well, I did,” Donnie agrees, “but-”
“You guys watched it, didn’t you?” Mikey asks, but it’s more like an accusation.
“No,” says Raph, and now he’s the one who says it too quickly.
Mikey squints at him, then looks back at Donnie, weak link that he is. “Donnie, did you watch that security tape?”
“I did…n’t,” he says, characteristically unconvincingly. Raph groans.
“I knew it!” Mikey lunges for Donnie’s computer, and it’s only Donnie’s battleshell arms that stop him from getting to the keyboard. “Let me see it too!”
“Mikey, stop!” says Raph, coming and putting a hand on his little brother’s shoulder. He winces when it’s shrugged off. “We’re not gonna watch the video.”
“Why not!?” Mikey demands, ripping himself out of Donnie’s metal arms and jumping back from both of them. “Why can’t I see it!? You both got to!” He looks between them with wild eyes, and then his face falls. “It’s because I’m the youngest, isn’t it?”
“No,” says Raph. “It’s because we both decided not to watch any more for Leo’s privacy.”
“For Leo’s privacy?” Mikey doesn’t look convinced. “Raph, he’s hurting! What if what’s on those videos can help?”
“What if watching them hurts him more?” Donnie defends. “He’ll find out we watched them, and then what?”
“He’d understand!”
“Would he?” Donnie sounds doubtful, and Raph can’t help but doubt it, too.
Even Mikey falters. He’s quiet a moment, wrapping his arms tight around his middle.
“...I don’t want him to suffer,” he says finally. “I want to help him.”
“We all wanna help him,” says Raph.
Mikey turns his eyes on Raph, and they’re full of fear and doubt and uncertainty. “You won’t even talk to him,” he says. It’s damning and cold and worst of all, true.
Raph takes a shaky breath, trying not to show his broken heart. “Listen. All Raph’s saying is, it’s barely been three days since we got Leo back home. Let’s give him time. Hopefully he’ll open up about all this stuff on his own.”
“...Fine. I won’t watch the video,” says Mikey. But he steels his expression, defiant. “But I’m going to keep trying to help him.”
“Just don’t push him, Mikey-”
“I won’t! I know what I’m doing.” He gives them a smile, but it’s weak compared to his usual. “Trust me, guys. I’ve got Dr. Feelings on my side!”
He turns and leaves the lab, the door sliding shut with a reverberating shunk behind him.
Donnie slumps in his chair. “At least it’s not Dr. Delicate Touch.”
Raph laughs at that. It’s about all he can do.
-----
They feed Leo lunch. Of course they do. He doesn’t know why he keeps thinking they might not.
Of course, Draxum is still there, looking over his shoulder like a warden to make sure Leo doesn’t eat so much as a bite more than he’s meant to. It makes the whole experience stressful, and Leo is ready to crash again as soon as it’s over.
(Is this all his life is now? Long periods bogged down in exhaustion, only broken by the reminder that food is always controlled by someone else.)
He hasn’t been dozing for long this time when a shout echoes through the lair, grabbing his attention.
“Hey guys!”
“April!” yells Mikey, springing up from the beanbag he was sitting in. He’d been there for a while now, looking intently at his phone, but Leo never asked. Probably a new game or something. “Come on in!”
She enters the living room, a bag with a familiar comic store logo hung over her arm. She gives Mikey a one-armed hug before making her way around the chair to hold the bag out to Leo.
“Here you go!” she trills. “I picked it up as soon as I got done with my homework.”
Leo takes it, baffled. He reaches into the bag, gripping something rather large and hard-covered; pulling it out reveals…
“…The Jupiter Jim Sixtieth Anniversary Comic Special!?” Leo cries out loud. He lays it in his lap, reverently brushing the cover with his fingers. “It came out!?”
“Uh, yeah, today.” April laughs. “Don’t you remember? You made me set, like, three different reminders.”
Leo stares at the comic book, feeling a strange sort of disconnect. He can remember when he thought about this comic coming out once a day, at least - he’d been counting down the days from the preorder. But… he actually hasn’t thought about it once since…
At some point, he stopped looking forward to the comic. Because he didn’t think he would be here to read it.
But he is here. He’s alive. Time is still moving forward, and the proof is his long-awaited comic book, finally in his hands.
(Maybe his life still has a few good things to look forward to.)
Leo may be tired of crying, but crying isn’t tired of him - the tears come on hot and fast as he processes all of it at once. The grief at what was almost lost and the impossible relief that it wasn’t.
He rubs furiously at his eyes and sniffs aggressively. Then he looks up at April with the best smile he can manage and holds out his arms.
“Thanks, April.”
“Of course!” She beams, not commenting on the tears, and gives him a hug that is tight and warm and everything he wants. “Now you don’t have to keep texting me about it.”
Leo laughs as he lets go. It’s still a little watery, but she doesn’t comment. “Well what are we waiting for? Wanna read it together?”
“Uh, duh!” April shoves him to the side without any force and settles in next to him on the chair. “I heard they brought back all the old comics characters for this!”
Leo nods excitedly, eyes rising to meet Mikey’s. “How about you, Mikester? We can do the voices!”
Even though he knows his voice won’t hold out for more than a few pages.
“Oh yeah!” says Mikey. “Just let me-”
He looks down at his phone, and Leo catches it as his expression changes - something on the screen taking his attention and causing him to furrow his brow.
“Aaactually,” he says, looking back up with a forced smile. “I have… something I have to do. Somewhere else! But you guys have fun!”
And then he disappears down the escalator toward their train cars.
Leo watches him go, then turns back to look at April. She’s craned her neck to watch, too, a worried pinch to her eyebrows behind her glasses.
It clears up when she catches Leo looking. “Welp. Guess it’s just you and me, then!”
Leo rubs his fingers over the cover again. His desire to read it disappeared with Mikey. Donnie’s busy, Raph’s avoiding him, and now Mikey has more important things to do.
At least April is here. He worms himself a little more solidly against her warmth and hopes he doesn’t drive her away, too.
“Let’s do something else for now,” he says. “Save this bad boy for when we can all read it together.”
April’s eyes go wide. “You sure? I don’t think the guys would mind…”
“Uh, no, Donnie would definitely kill me if I read anything with Atomic Lass before him.” Leo gently sets the comic aside. “Besides, how are we gonna do the voices with just two of us?”
“What, you’re saying I can’t handle it?” April asks, a challenge in her voice. “I bet I could do a one-woman show.”
“Oh, I’d love to see that!” Leo laughs, and it’s only because April is here that it’s genuine and not forced. “But I don’t think I could stay awake for the whole thing, anyway.”
“Well… fine.” April relents. “Anything you wanna do instead?”
“Mmm…” He hands her the remote. “It’s been awhile since we judged people on Say Yes to the Dress.”
“Ooo, you are so right!” April flips on the projector and starts loading up the episodes. “Hold on, let me find where we left off.”
Soon, the sounds of over-dramatic reality TV fill the room. Leo shifts until his head is tucked under April’s chin, and she scratches her fingernails over his shell as they watch. They give their opinions on the dresses and jeer the catty friends and family members.
It feels so normal. The most normal Leo’s felt since he woke up in a room that was nothing but white.
It proves to him that things can be normal.
(But still, in the back of his mind, he wonders when his next meal will be.)
-----
Raph isn’t sure how many more tense dinners his family can survive.
They’re eating beef stew, partly so Leo doesn’t feel like the odd one out with his soup. Except he’s still the odd one out, because they have big chunks of beef and veggies while he has mostly broth with easy to swallow carrots, and some more egg for protein.
Raph hates eating in front of him. It feels like rubbing it in. But would taking their food and leaving him to eat alone be any better?
Probably not, because Draxum would still be watching him. And that’s the biggest source of tension.
Draxum is sitting at the table like the rest of them, but he might as well be looming over Leo’s shoulder. Leo himself stays hunched over his bowl of soup like he thinks it’s going to be snatched away at any moment, eating with quick, furtive movements, his eyes darting to Draxum each time.
It’s the exact opposite of his measured eating from this morning, and even more unsettling.
April is here, thank the Pizza Supreme, and she’s trying to keep the conversation going so they don’t all dwell on the bad vibes from Leo’s direction. Only Splinter is biting, though. Raph tries, of course, but…
He’d take fighting a villain a million times over this.
“Oh yeah, Donnie, Leo said you and Splints are making him curtains for his train car,” says April, grabbing Raph’s attention. “How’s that going?”
Across the table, Mikey’s expression turns conflicted. He focuses his eyes on his food and doesn’t catch Raph watching.
“Oh, it’s going well,” says Donnie, “but I didn’t have enough spare metal to finish. I’ll go to the scrapyard tomorrow and see what I can scrounge up.”
“Hmm… I do not like the idea of you going alone,” says Splinter hesitantly. “We do not know if those people will come back.”
No one has to ask what people he’s referring to. Still, Donnie looks irritated.
“Papa, it’s just the scrapyard,” he argues. “I’ll be back before it’s dark.”
“Still…”
“I’ll go with him!” says Mikey suddenly, raising his hand to volunteer. “Then he won’t be alone. Buddy system!” He slaps his raised hand down on Donnie’s shoulder.
“Ow,” says Donnie in a flat tone, reaching up and shoving him off. “Despite the unnecessary assault on my person, I’m amenable to Micheal accompanying me.”
“What’s “amenable”?” Leo asks in a stage whisper.
(It’s the most like himself he’s sounded all day.)
“I think it’s what you say at the end of a prayer,” Mikey stage whispers back.
(Raph can help his smile. He hides it behind his napkin.)
“It means I’m fine with it,” Donnie snaps. “None of you read my Word of the Day texts, do you?”
“Only ‘cause it’s words no one uses,” Leo scoffs. “Seriously, who even uses words like “sanctimonious”?”
“Lots of people!”
“Lots of nerds?”
Donnie glares at him. “You are so lucky we’re having a nice dinner right now, Nardo.”
Leo snorts and refocuses on his soup. He has a big, cocky grin on his face, and it’s all so normal that Raph feels something unknot in his chest. Maybe, Leo really is starting to get better.
And then Splinter says, “I also need to go out tomorrow… It’s been so long since we got groceries, I couldn’t even eat my usual microwave burrito for lunch!”
And just like that, the normalcy is ripped away again.
Leo’s eyes snap up, locking on their dad, unblinking. His knobbly fingers press tighter around his bowl, pulling it closer to him like he’s scared someone will snatch it away.
“We’re running out of food?”
He sounds so scared that Raph can’t stop himself before he’s reaching over. Just to put his hand on Leo’s shoulder, to give him a hug, if he wants. Anything he needs to calm down, to not look so terrified.
But Leo must misread the action, because he jerks away, gripping the bowl impossibly tighter, eyes blown out wide and a just noticeable tremble in his shoulders. Like he’s scared of Raph.
Raph pulls his hand back without making contact and hunches in his chair, as far away as he can get from Leo without leaving the table. Or maybe he should just get up and leave. How can he be around his little brother when he’s scared of him like this?
“Ah, no,” says Splinter, and this has finally broken his easy-going tone. “There is still plenty of food, Blue, don’t worry.”
“…Hah. Right. Of course there is,” says Leo.
His voice is high and reedy, his face twitching like it’s trying to force itself back into the big smile from earlier but just doesn’t know how to move its muscles. “Why wouldn’t there be?”
Splinter reaches out hesitantly and gives Leo a pat on the arm. Leo flinches, his grip on his bowl still tight, and Splinter retreats again.
“Hey, Pops,” says Raph, drawing attention off Leo. “I can go with you tomorrow.”
They can get more food with more hands.
“Oh, thank you, Red,” says Splinter, relieved. “That will make things much easier to carry.”
“Sure,” says Raph. Then he upends the rest of his stew into his mouth and swallows it all as fast as he can before standing up.
“Welp, I’m done with dinner so I’m going to get a workout in before bed night everyone!”
And then he’s out of there. Running away from the haunted shell of Leo.
He doesn’t know what to do with a little brother who ducks away from his hands. He doesn’t know what to do with a little brother who covers windows and hides from his eyes. He doesn’t know what to do with a little brother who looks up at him and says, “That’s not what a hero would do.”
Raph is a big guy and he’s never been good with fragile things. So maybe the best thing he can do for now is stay back and let those with deft hands take the lead.
Even if it’s not what he wants.
What he really wants to do is go back to that facility. Find the men that did this to Leo. And then…
Raph lines up his punching bag and swings. Over and over and over, until his fingers sting.
-----
They’re leaving him here. They’re leaving him alone.
Alone with Draxum.
Leo wants to protest. He wants to beg them to stay. He wants them to not want to leave him to begin with.
But Splinter said they haven’t gotten groceries in awhile. And even if he claims they aren’t running out of food, Leo is terrified of what happens if they do.
So he doesn’t ask his dad to stay. He keeps his mouth shut, focus on his bowl of soup, depressingly empty next to everyone else’s.
But Donnie… Donnie doesn’t have to go to the scrapyard tomorrow, right?
Yeah… Leo can survive the lack of curtains for another day. He slept just fine with his makeshift window blockers last night, after all. He appreciates that Donnie wants to get it done quickly, but there’s no need.
“Hey, Dee,” he says, looking up, and realizing too late that he just interrupted something April was saying. Everyone goes quiet, anyway, and he feels the suffocating weight of everyone’s eyes on him.
His mouth goes dry.
“Yes, Leo?” Donnie prompts when he doesn’t say anything. He looks confused, and concerned. They all do. Because it’s super weird for Leo to say something and then fall silent. Just like it would be weird for him to beg Donnie to stay because he’s afraid of being alone with Draxum.
“Just, uh… excited to see the curtain rods,” he says, pivoting to a neutral topic. Maybe no one noticed. Maybe he was quick enough.
Donnie’s face lights up the way it does when anyone wants to see his handiwork, which is good. Leo likes making his brothers happy. Pizza Supreme knows he hasn’t been good at it lately.
“Of course!” he says, practically bouncing in his seat. “I’ll show you after dinner!”
“Can’t wait.”
Conversation moves on. Leo finishes his soup.
“Are you still hungry?” Draxum asks, making him jump. “Do not lie to me, this time.”
“Draxum,” says Splinter in a warning tone. But that’s all he does. He doesn’t offer Leo more food. He doesn’t argue that Leo wouldn’t lie.
They haven’t been grocery shopping in awhile.
“…No,” Leo says, twisting his napkin in his hand. “I’m full.”
-----
“I focused on the windows directly around your bed to begin,” Donnie says as he leads Leo into his train car, a bounce in his step as he pushes past the curtain. “To help you get a good night’s sleep. And Dad already hung what curtains he had finished, so you can even see the final result!”
Leo steps into the middle of the room and looks around. The curtain rods are simpler than he expected, simple things fastened to the wall, able to be unlatched so the rods can be removed and the curtains swapped out. Every windows’ brackets are slightly different, a testament to the scraps Donnie used to make them, but Leo likes that - this hodge-podge, improvised way of home decor has always been their style. It has a charm you can’t get in a normal house.
Donnie has also painted the rods a gunmetal blue, and some of the brackets have Ls etched into the metal. It’s little details like that that leave Leo touched.
The curtains themselves are just black fabric, sewn so they can loop over the rods and be pulled aside when desired. It’s simple and quick, but they represent hours his dad spent today at a sewing machine, just to help him sleep.
Leo feels himself getting a little teary again, and he quickly blinks it back. He doesn’t feel like crying today.
“It’s so cool, Dee,” he says, and his voice is genuine; he catches Donnie flap his hands in a pleased way out of the corner of his eye. “Thanks. This will really help a lot.”
“Oh, I’m so glad you like them!” Donnie is all smiles, and it makes Leo smile, too. “I wanted to make them more elaborate, but I thought time was of the essence. I would have been done today, if I hadn’t run out of materials.”
“No way, man, you got a lot more done today than I thought you would.” Then again, Donnie always has been quick, even more so since he got his powers, so Leo shouldn’t be so surprised. “What else could you even do to them? Add AI?”
“Oho, don’t tempt me.” Donnie reaches up and taps one of the brackets with a nail, making a soft ping. “Then you could open or close all the curtains with voice command!”
“Thanks for the offer, but I’m good using my hands.” He spins to take the room in one more time, then claps his arm around Donnie’s shoulders.
(The pang when his arm hits the metal shell is more jarring than it used to be.)
“Seriously, hermano. Thanks.”
Donnie doesn’t pull away quite as quickly as he used to. “Well. Save any more thanks until I finish with the project. Which should be soon, after my scrapyard run tomorrow!”
Right. The scrapyard. This is when Leo should bring it up. This is the perfect time.
He can just ask Donnie to stay. To put it off one more day, work on something else. Here, in his room, just the two of them, he doesn’t think Donnie would refuse him. He doesn’t think Donnie would make fun of him. He doesn’t think Donnie would call him weird.
“Actually, uh…”
He remembers Donnie taking his cracker and eating it.
“Hm?” Donnie turns out of his arm and looks at Leo, confused. “What’s wrong?”
He remembers Donnie’s reaction to the chewed up bottle cap.
“Leo?”
“Nothing,” he says quickly, rubbing the back of his head. “Just… be careful, okay? We don’t know if those EPF guys have come back.”
Donnie’s face drops into a more serious expression. “Right. Don’t worry - I’ve taken precautions.”
“What precautions?”
“I’ve updated the software on all our trackers. If they leave the city limits, or if a third party attempts to interfere with the signal, they’ll immediately send an alert to everyone’s phones.”
“You don’t think that’s a little… excessive?”
Donnie folds his arms over his chest. “Not if it keeps everyone safe.”
Leo doesn’t know how to argue with that.
“I am working on a way that we can each override it, though,” Donnie adds. “We wouldn’t want to scare each other if we leave the area on purpose. And I have plans for even more enhancements that can-”
“Eugh boy.” Leo motions Donnie toward the door. “I’m way too tired for speech mode, Dee. Maybe later?”
Donnie scowls. “Exasperated sigh. There is never a “later” with you.”
Leo laughs. “You got me!”
“You could really stand to pay attention and learn something… But, alright.” Donnie steps toward the curtain. “I will let you get away with it this time, only because you’re still recovering.”
“Is that a threat?”
“Yes.” But Donnie gives him a grin on the way out. “Goodnight, Nardo.”
“Night, nerd!”
As soon as Donnie’s gone, Leo sinks onto his bed and puts his head in his hands.
He couldn’t ask Donnie to stay. He couldn’t, because it would be weird and strange and bad. And now he’s going to be left alone with Draxum.
Will Draxum even let him eat? What if he decides Leo’s had enough…?
It’s a stupid thought. Of course Draxum will let him eat. Otherwise, Leo’s family would… do something!
Right?
He thinks about Donnie taking the cracker again. His pulse quickens.
He can’t go without food again. He can’t. He doesn’t think he would be able to take it.
But if no one else is going to give him food, then… then…
Leo takes a deep breath and steels his resolve. He knows what he needs to do.
He grabs the curtain on the nearest window and pulls it over, just a crack - just enough to see the lights outside, to see when they dim as the rest of his family goes to bed for the night.
And he waits.
-----
By the time Raph finally leaves the dojo, it’s dark in the lair, with only some safety lighting and a few neon signs still on. He can hear his dad snoring from the TV room, the projection flickering on the end card of a show, and as he passes their extra train car he sees Draxum inside, working on something under a desk lamp. Mikey and Leo are both in their rooms, from what he can tell, and Donnie must be in his lab.
He’ll go on his rounds in a bit; first, he beelines for the kitchen for water and a nighttime snack.
He’s quiet as he walks up the escalator, knowing exactly which steps creak and squeal and carefully avoiding them. He doesn’t want a conversation right now; not with his wrapped knuckles and sweat-soaked mask dangling from his fingers.
The kitchen’s dark when he arrives, and he fumbles around for the switch, missing it a few times. It’s so different from the layout of the old lair, and he’s not usually the first one in the kitchen in the morning.
He finally flips on the light, and finds he isn’t the first one in the kitchen tonight, either.
Leo stands frozen by the counter, eyes wide and panicked when they meet Raph’s. In his hands he’s clutching a half-full bag of chips, sour cream and onion, the plastic crinkling and snapping where he grips it tight. He looks like a terrified, wild animal, drowning in one of his own hoodies and stancing up like he’s ready to bolt. Like he’s doing something wrong, getting a snack in his own house.
Except… he kind of is doing something wrong. And that’s what breaks Raph’s heart.
But what is Raph supposed to do here? Tell Leo he can’t eat that, the same as his captors did? Try to explain to him why he can’t have it, when Raph barely understands the reasons himself? Rip the bag from his weak hands, and prove to Leo once and for all that his family can’t be trusted?
Raph is supposed to be the biggest brother. The one who always knows exactly what to do, exactly how to help, who protects his three little knuckleheads from a world that wants to hurt them.
But he doesn’t know what to do about this. It’s just not in his playbook.
He’s never been good with fragile things.
Raph reaches over and flips off the kitchen light. He goes back to the escalator, and dodges the squeaky steps. He goes to his train car, and pulls the curtain over the doorway.
He pretends he didn’t see.
-----
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 Part A (here) | Part 4 Part B (not out yet)
#rottmnt#dandy fanfiction#room fic#cw food issues#rise leo#rise raph#rise donnie#rise mikey#rise splinter#rise april
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Just Ted and AM enjoying the flowers, I wrote a little fic to go along with this art piece as well if anyone wants to read it— A gentle breeze cascaded across open fields of wildflowers, where AM laid peacefully amongst petals and blades of grass. His head rested upon his arms, dozing off to Ted’s delicate touch as he strung flowers into his circuits. So meticulous with the colors and arrangement. AM couldn’t help but watch from the corner of his eye with interest.
“And what purpose does it serve for you to kill the flowers and put them in my wires,” AM pointedly asked with a chuckle in return from Ted. He plucked yet another flower, this time a black eyed susan that he perched atop AM’s beak. His fingers traced along the sharp, metal ridge and AM raised his head from his arms to glance back at himself and observe Ted’s handy work.
“Don’t put it that way— I mean, you’re not wrong I just I thought you’d look, well… pretty,” Ted whispered the last part, a bashful shift of his eyes.
“And?” AM inquired then stood and craned his neck to put the arrangement of flowers on full display under the sun. They shone bright against the dark chorded circuits, a bloom of color against a dreary mechanical form. And Ted awed at his vibrance against a blue sky. A warmth quick to dance across his cheeks.
“And…I was right,” Ted uttered so breathlessly and AM could only scoff to himself at such a ridiculous notion. Pretty, only Ted would think to call a machine, pretty.
“You’re a moron,” AM quipped back and scoured the field of flowers for the perfect one to embellish Ted with in exchange. He found himself drawn to a cluster of bright yellow coreopsis, in which his long, jagged talons reached to pluck the flowers from the earth. Only for them to crumple and tear under their razor sharp edge. He hissed through his speakers as petals fell from his claws.
“It’s alright, you just have to be gentle. Here let me help,” Ted chortled then scooted forward to take AM’s hand with his own. The computer recoiled initially then eased into Ted’s grasp. He allowed him to carefully bring his talons back underneath a nearby blossom. He eased them closed to snip them from the stem, then followed through to bring AM’s hand back to his hair where he neatly placed the flower for him.
His hold on AM’s hand sank back to his wrist and he smiled. While AM stared at the bright yellow flower that stood in stark contrast to Ted’s dark locks.. Pretty, the word echoed within his processors and he craned his neck around to find another cluster of flowers. Pristine ones that he plucked just the way Ted had shown him. He arranged them neatly into Ted’s hair, and Ted began to laugh again as they fell out shortly after he’d placed them.
“Hold on, they won't stay like that,” Ted uttered and collected the flowers back from the grass, “God I haven’t done this in… well over a hundred years at least.”
He pulled both of AM’s hands into his lap and AM followed closely as Ted began to weave the flowers together one by one. “There, just like that, then you can make a crown,” Ted explained then left the rest to AM. He struggled at first, as his big, clunky talons lacked the tact for something so small and delicate. But AM was determined to get it right, and Ted was there to nudge him in the right direction.
The finished product was by no means glamorous, but when AM lifted it to place on top of Ted’s head, it was…perfect. AM admired his work in silence a moment, gazing down at Ted with a warmth he wasn’t even aware of himself. But Ted’s face darkened and he turned away from him.
“Don’t look at me like that, it’s creepy,” Ted teased and AM blew a raspberry at him.
“What, I just thought you looked, pretty,” he echoed Ted’s words and butt him with his head before he nuzzled his beak to the side of his face.
“Oh shut up,” Ted laughed and pressed his cheek back against his.
—
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This is something i have been thinking of. Lando Norris x Sainz!sister. Essentially, both of them are friends with benefits, but they both like eachother more. But Lando makes it seem like he is super casual. So when Y/N asks Lando if he wants to go out for dinner and he says "we arent dating i dont owe you that " and goes with another girl to a club, Y/N is super hurt and is crying in carlos's arms who confronts lando and punches him. happy ending pls
look me in the eyes and tell me how you feel (ln4)
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monaco shimmered under the twilight, a playground for the rich and the reckless. lando norris, ever the showman, weaved through the throngs of fans at a yacht party, a mischievous glint in his eyes. his gaze, however, kept flitting towards a balcony bathed in soft light. there, y/n sainz, carlos's younger sister, leaned against the railing, her laughter like wind chimes.
lando and y/n had a… complicated arrangement. stolen kisses in motorhomes, tangled limbs in hotel rooms, whispered promises that morphed into playful banter the next morning. it was a delicious dance, fueled by adrenaline and undeniable chemistry. but lando, a master of deflecting emotions with a goofy grin, kept it firmly in the realm of casual. he couldn't risk messing things up with carlos, his teammate and closest friend.
the party thrummed with music. y/n, catching his eye, blew him a kiss, a playful challenge in her smile. a thrill shot through lando, warring with the voice of his carefully constructed facade. he sauntered over to a group of models, his trademark grin plastered on. a blonde beauty, all curves and confidence, latched onto his arm.
"hey, lando, fancy a drink?" she purred.
lando, internally cringing, forced a laugh. "sure thing, love." his peripheral vision caught y/n stiffen, a flicker of hurt crossing her features before she masked it with a dazzling smile for a group of friends.
later that night, as the party wound down, y/n approached lando, her usual vibrancy dimmed. "hey, you wanna grab dinner sometime this week?"
lando, caught off guard, fumbled for his usual playful response. "uh, y/n, you know the deal, right? we're not exactly...dating." he winced at the sting in his own voice.
y/n's smile faltered. "yeah, i guess i just…" she trailed off, disappointment clouding her eyes. "never mind. have fun tonight."
lando watched her walk away, a cold knot clenching his stomach. he hated himself for playing it cool, but the fear of ruining their friendship, of losing carlos, held him captive.
he spotted y/n leaving with another guy, a forced smile plastered on her face. jealousy, a green-eyed monster he'd never acknowledged before, roared to life. he spent the rest of the night drowning his turmoil in champagne, a hollow feeling gnawing at him.
rain lashed against the motorhome windows, mirroring the storm brewing inside y/n. curled up on a bunk, she hugged her knees to her chest, body wracked with silent sobs. the memory of lando's flippant "we aren't dating" echoed in her ears, a cruel reminder of their confusing situation.
a creak on the stairs alerted her. before she could wipe away the tears, the door swung open and carlos's concerned face appeared. "y/n? what's wrong?"
he rushed to her side, his presence a familiar comfort. all pretense melted away as y/n threw herself into his arms, the dam breaking with a fresh torrent of tears. carlos held her tight, his jaw clenched, a storm brewing within him that rivaled the one outside.
"he…lando…we…" y/n hiccupped between sobs, unable to form a coherent sentence.
carlos understood. his sister, usually a ball of sunshine, was a shattered mess. he rubbed her back soothingly, letting the tears flow until they subsided into sniffles.
"talk to me, hermanita," carlos said softly, using their childhood nickname for 'little sister.' "did he…did he hurt you?"
shame burned in y/n's cheeks, but she knew she couldn't keep it from carlos. "we aren't…dating, he says. just…fun. but it doesn't feel that way to me, carlos. i care about him, a lot."
carlos felt a familiar pang of protectiveness. he'd seen the way lando looked at y/n sometimes, the way a stolen glance lingered a beat too long. the frustrating thing was, lando clearly felt something too, yet his fear held him back.
"he's an idiot," carlos muttered, the words laced with anger and affection in equal measure. "but you deserve better than being kept in some emotional limbo, y/n."
y/n wiped at her remaining tears, her voice laced with a newfound determination. "i know. i just…i thought there was something there. we laugh together, we…" she trailed off, a blush creeping up her neck. "it doesn't feel casual, carlos."
carlos chuckled dryly. "trust me, i know. you practically glow whenever you're around him." he wrapped her in another hug. "but listen, sometimes guys, especially lando, can be dense as bricks when it comes to feelings."
y/n snorted, a faint smile playing on her lips. "thanks for the vote of confidence in our resident goofball."
carlos pulled back, wiping away a stray tear from her cheek. "look, you need to talk to him, y/n. tell him how you feel. and if he can't meet you halfway…"
he left the sentence unfinished, but y/n knew what he meant. "yeah, i know."
a beat of silence followed, broken only by the drumming rain. "but what if he doesn't feel the same?" y/n's voice hitched slightly.
carlos squeezed her hand. "then he's the one missing out. you, y/n, are amazing. funny, smart, and strong. he'd be a fool to let you go."
y/n looked up at him, a flicker of hope rekindled in her eyes. "really?"
carlos grinned, his usual mischievous glint returning. "absolutely. now, are you up for some revenge ice cream? we can trash lando's favorite video game while we eat it."
y/n laughed, a genuine, full-bodied laugh that filled the small space. "you're the best brother ever, carlos."
"that's what brothers are for," he said, pulling her into another hug. "now, let's get that ice cream and show lando what he's missing."
the next morning, lando found carlos pacing furiously in their shared motorhome. before he could stammer an explanation, carlos launched into a tirade.
"lando, what the hell did you do to y/n?"
the truth tumbled out, a torrent of guilt and frustration. as lando confessed his tangled feelings, carlos listened, his face a mask of conflicting emotions.
"you idiot!" carlos finally roared, landing a solid punch on lando's jaw. "she's been crazy about you for months!"
the pain in his jaw was nothing compared to the dawning realization. lando understood in that moment just how badly he'd messed up.
meanwhile, y/n, teary-eyed, sought solace in carlos's embrace. he listened patiently, his heart aching for his sister. as she sobbed about the confusing, one-sided nature of her relationship with lando, carlos knew it was time for a little brotherly intervention.
lando, bruised and shaken, confronted y/n later that day. he poured his heart out, confessing his fear of losing her and carlos. y/n, hesitant at first, listened, her own vulnerability peeking through.
"lando," she said softly, "we could have talked about it. you could have trusted me."
y/n sniffled, wiping away a stray tear that escaped down her cheek. lando sat beside her on the motorhome couch, his heart heavy with regret. the balcony overlooking the glistening monaco harbor, once a backdrop for stolen kisses, now felt cold and empty.
"i just...don't understand," y/n said, her voice small. "why can't it be more?"
lando reached out, his hand hovering over hers before retreating. "it's me, y/n. i messed up. royally." shame burned in his throat.
"why? you like me, don't you?" she looked up at him, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.
he took a deep breath. "like you? y/n, i…" he swallowed hard. "i'm terrified i'll lose you."
"lose me? how?"
"carlos," he confessed, the name catching in his throat. "he's my brother, my best friend. the thought of messing that up…"
y/n's brow furrowed. "so you'd rather keep things…casual…than risk our friendship?"
lando winced. "it sounds stupid when you say it out loud."
"it does," she agreed, a faint spark of anger flickering in her eyes. "because it is, lando."
he looked away, guilt gnawing at him. "i know. i'm an idiot."
silence stretched between them, thick and heavy. finally, y/n spoke, her voice stronger now. "fear shouldn't dictate our happiness, lando. not mine, not yours."
he finally met her gaze, a flicker of hope igniting in his chest. "you wouldn't…walk away?"
she shook her head, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. "not if you're willing to take a chance, scaredy-cat."
lando's lips curved into a genuine grin. "alright then, fearless leader. let's see where this crazy thing takes us." he reached for her hand this time, his grip firm and warm. "together."
tears welled up in lando's eyes. "i will, y/n. from now on, nothing but the truth."
and that's how it began. a real, honest relationship built on shared laughter, late-night talks that stretched into sunrise, and a fierce, protective love. the paddock buzzed with speculation, but lando and y/n reveled in their newfound happiness. they were a force to be reckoned with on the track, and even more so off it, their playful banter now laced with a deeper affection.
one warm evening, after a podium finish for lando, they found themselves on the balcony of that same monaco yacht party. this time, y/n leaned against him, her head on his shoulder, a comfortable silence settling between them.
"next time," she said, a mischievous glint in her eyes, "dinner's on you. no excuses."
lando chuckled, pulling her closer. "wouldn't have it any other way." he knew, with a certainty that warmed him from the inside out, that this was more than just a delicious dance. it was a love story waiting to be written, and they were finally holding the pen.
news of their relationship spread like wildfire through the f1 circus. fans, initially surprised, warmed to the genuine connection between the young couple. lando's playful side, usually reserved for post-race interviews, found its way onto the podium, fueled by y/n's infectious laughter in the crowd.
their relationship wasn't without its challenges. there were jealous rivals, intrusive media, and the ever-present pressure of the racing world. but they faced it all together, a united front. y/n became lando's rock, his fierce supporter and confidante. he, in turn, was her biggest cheerleader, celebrating her triumphs, big and small.
their love story wasn't a fairy tale. there were arguments, late nights fueled by strategy and debriefs, and the occasional prank war between y/n and carlos (much to lando's amusement and slight annoyance). but through it all, their bond grew stronger.
one rainy weekend, cuddled up in their motorhome, lando surprised y/n with a small box. inside, nestled on velvet, was a delicate necklace. the pendant held a tiny silver replica of a helmet, engraved with "y/n" and their nicknames for each other. tears welled up in her eyes.
"it's perfect, lando," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.
he pulled her close, his voice a low rumble. "just like you, y/n."
years passed, and their love story continued to unfold on and off the track. they supported each other through victories and defeats, podium finishes and heartbreaking crashes. they built a life together, filled with laughter, love, and the thrill of competition.
one sunny day, on the podium at monza, lando stood victorious, champagne spraying in the air. but his eyes were fixed on y/n, standing in the team garage, a radiant smile lighting up her face. he blew her a kiss, a silent promise whispered on the wind.
their love story, born under the glittering lights of monaco, had become a legend whispered through the grandstands of every formula one circuit. it was a testament to the power of vulnerability, the courage to face fears, and the unwavering belief that sometimes, the most exhilarating race is the one for love.
#lando norris#lando norris x female reader#lando norris x you#lando norris x oc#lando norris x y/n#lando norris x reader#ln4#ln4 x y/n#ln4 x reader#ln4 x you#ln4 x female reader#formula 1 x female reader#formula 1 x y/n#formula 1 x you#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 x oc#carlos sainz#carlando#formula 1#f1 imagine#formula one#y/n#mclaren#carlos sainz jr#carlos sainz x reader#carlos sainz imagine#carlos sainz x you#carlos sainz x female reader#carlos sainz one shot#cs55 x reader
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TOO SWEET
PAIRINGS: the vampire Louis De Pointe Du Lac x Fem! Mortal! OC
WARNINGS: Swearing, mentions of blood, blood consumption, alcohol consumption, mentions of killing, mention of Lestat, no Claudia, reader is perceived as innocent, age gap, OC being turned into a vampire, inaccurate timeline probably, YES I USED LINES FROM THE SONG DONT HATE ON MY GRIND.
NSFW WARNINGS: light choking, biting, sir kink, manhandling, blood, fingering, making out, p in v, creampie, praise, overstimulation, power play, slight corruption kink? Idk
The year was 1925, 15 years after Louis had been turned into a godforsaken vampire, doomed to the harsh life of an unwilling immortality of lies and betrayal.
The dark gift was taking, the worst of its flaws and punishments being that every night you woke and walked amongst the living. The bitter feeling of no longer being mortal, and forgetting what it was once like to be a regular human amongst the crowd, rather than a predator picking out its prey in the sea of flesh.
Day after day, party after party, body after body—to be short, it was a routine. A boring one, at that.
He noticed her dress first, long and drug behind her. Baby pink in color, with periwinkle and a flamingo pink shade of flowers adorning the fabric. Diamonds glistened under the light of the expensive chandelier, and her white gloved hands reached for a deep red champagne—the vibrancy he imagined her blood would be.
A long white feather sprouted out from her mass of curls, a dark chocolate with an odd singular strip of white rooted at the front of her hair, framing her face. Where her white strand of hair was rooted almost melted down onto her face, a pale patch of skin on her forehead stood out.
Her face was decorated in moles, almost perfectly hand placed by God herself. Lips plump, parted as his enhanced hearing heard every soft breath that passed. The gentle rise and fall of her chest as she scanned the room, oblivious to the bright eyes staring at her.
She was out of place. He knew that she knew she didn’t belong in a place like this, but that only lead to the question of why she was here, in a room of people money and sex hungry. The complete opposite of her.
Her voice echoed in his head, and he couldn’t help but let out a laugh. ‘I wonder if there’s cake. This drink is awful.’ How sweet. In a room of smoke and drunken men, she’s worried about eating cake.
The dark angel lurked against the walls of the extravagant room, looking at the beauty in every angle possible. A lamb. His lamb. So pure, unbeknownst to the evils around each corner she turned. ‘What is your name, girl?’ He spoke, using his mind as communication.
He visibly saw her freeze. Like her heart stopped beating in her body—not yet. Her heart would not yet stop beating. “What?” She replied, aloud, desperately looking around the room to match the voice to a face—till her eyes stopped on him.
Their eyes connected. Heat rose through her in a fiery roar, curiosity and conflict dancing in her eyes with the smallest hint of fear. Fear was normal. Humans lived off of fear, it’s was the reason for everything if you peeled away enough layers.
‘You’ve found me’ Louis smiled. She felt her heart begin to beat again. Her hands balled into fists against her dress, a wad of fabric curled into a ball. ‘How are you doing this?’ She asked, eye contact between the two never once being broken.
‘Come.’ Was all he replied. He left the large room full of lousy people, around the corridors, and out through the back. He was met with a dark alley, a rather clean one—still boxes scattered around, though. Humans we’re filthy. Like toddlers who didn’t know how to clean up after themselves.
She followed behind him till they were standing mere feet apart from each other outside in the privacy of the night. “Who are you?” She finally spoke after a long moment of silence.
“I am whatever you perceive me as. Most call me the devil.” He chuckled. The first few years after his changing, he took offense to it. Hated being called it. Pondered if he really was the Devil. He knows he isn’t now. Farthest from it.
“You’re too handsome to be considered such” she smiled, two dimples. She was genuine, not a hint of lie detected in her speech. “I ain’t got nothin’ on you.” He replied, stuffing his hands into his pockets nervously—nervously? How peculiar.
Louis felt like a schoolboy all over again. Giddy at the compliment she gave, flush rising to his cheeks faintly over her eyes pondering over his existence. “What is your name?” She asked, her head tilted ever so slightly.
“Louis De Pointe Du Lac.” He said, pridefully. She thought for a moment—“my daddy used to go to that place you own, I’m not sure what it’s called?—” she said, urging him to finish her thought. “The Azalea. My money maker.” A charming smile graced his face.
“Maybe I should go sometime.” She said, a cheeky smile playing at her lips. Louis let out a breath of air as he softly shook his head. “Nah, that’s not the place for you, baby”
“Yeah? then what is the place for me, Mr. du Lac?” She whispered, glancing down at the bottom of her dresses as she nervously fiddled with her fingers behind her back. His hand found her chin, lifting her head to do their eyes could once again meet.
“Bright as the morning, aren’t you?” He whispered back. His voice was laced with desire, yet he was holding himself back. Louis was in fear, for the first time in a long time. He was fearful to taint the aura of innocence the damsel carried around with her. He didn’t want to have to be the one to burst her bubble. But somewhere inside of him did.
“What are you, Mr. du Lac?” She said, her tone more serious than before as her eyes swirled with curiosity. But after all, it was curiosity that killed the cat. “I’m a vampire.” He replied calmy, like it was an every day occurrence. She giggled.
“Oh yeah, then where are your fangs?” She teased. Louis quirked a brow, taken aback for a moment. His mouth opened large enough for her to watch as his fangs protruded—white, and sharp. She brought her finger to the tip of his tooth, pricking her finger.
Crimson spilled from her small wound, and her scent clouded his mind. He couldn’t have her like this—not yet. It wasn’t her time still. Louis couldn’t help himself as he gently grabbed her wrist, holding it in place as his tongue met with the pad of her finger, sufficiently licking up any traces of blood.
“Fuck—you taste like pineapple.” He mumbled, placing a soft kiss against her wound before forcing himself to pull away, again, in fear of harming her. “My name is Thérèse.” She let out a shaky breath. He knew it wasn’t from fear, but rather arousal.
His hand reached for her waist, pulling her close to his body. Her chest was flush against his, and her cleavage was on display. She looked like an angel, sent down just for him. He knew he didn’t deserve her, shouldn’t have even been able to be in her presence—yet the way she felt against him felt so right, and that feeling wasn’t something he could deny or dismiss.
Their noses brushed against each other, and their lips were mere centimeters apart. One move and they would be touching. “Thérèse.” He said. Her name sounded like velvet on his tongue, and she longed for him to say it for centuries to come. To hear him call out for her. To her.
Their lips crashed together, the kiss desperate. The metallic taste of her blood lingered on his tongue, yet it only made her all the more eager to have him. Their tongues danced together, a fight for dominance that Thérèse easily gave up. He explored her mouth, and she allowed him.
This would be the first of many things she would allow him to do. She allowed him to hold her hand delicately as he guided her through the busy roads of their town. He had a certain way about him, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. Enchanting, almost. Alluring, maybe. Possibly a word non-existing.
His hand was cold to the touch, which Thèrése found odd, yet she had not comment to give. She was aware he was not quite human, but she wasn’t ready to accept what he was yet. Just a few moments, maybe days longer, she’d like to live in a carefree bliss. He respected and supported her unvocalized wish.
“How long have you lived here, Louis?” He sighed, glancing around at the town he’d known all his immortal life. “Forever.” He replied. “The white people are ignorant. Greedy liars, most of them. They feed off of the red district, and all the people in it.” He said.
“I made the Azalea to counteract them. Get the white mans money.” He finished. She hummed in acknowledgment.
Thèrése was Hispanic, and immigrant from overseas. A land conquered by natives with the white people invading like the Huns invaded Rome. It was tragic, being forced to move far away from all she’d known since she was 17. She was now at the ripe age of 22 years old, standing at 5’5 without shoes on.
“Was it hard?” Louis asked, glancing over at her. She quirked a brow in confusion. “Was what hard?” She asked. Louis looked up at the sky. It was dark. The way it had been for years. Darkness was now the only thing he’d ever be able to see. “Leaving your home. To travel such great lengths.”
She decided not to ponder on how he knew, in fear of messing up the content atmosphere they had created. “Yes. I left many family members and friends behind. But, I endured. For my family, I endured.” She responded, almost as if robotically.
“I was going to be forced to marry a white man named Humbert had I not left. The life I saw before me was not what I had planned, but I am grateful for the freedom I have now grown accustomed to.” She responded. She looked up at the sky with him.
“They’re beautiful.” She started. “I wish to see space. To feel the heat of the stars.” She whispered, pausing her walking with Louis next to her, close enough to have their shoulders bumping. “The stars get exhausting when you look at them long enough.” He whispered back.
“I think I could spend a lifetime looking at them.” She said, a smile gracing her lips. She looked beautiful like this, and Louis wished to remember this exact scene before him for the rest of his life. “Be careful what you wish for, Thèrése.” He responded, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his clean slacks.
They walked throughout the night, hand in hand. The moonlight created highlights that emphasized their alluring features, and for the first time in a long time, Louis was in love. And for the first time ever, Thèrése was too.
They stopped at a gated entrance, and beyond it, was Louis home he hadn’t showed anyone who lived to tell. Thèrése would be the first mortal he brought to his home without killing, and she would be the last as he opened the gate, allowing her to go in first.
A small hand was placed at the small of her back, guiding her throughout the house she had entered after walking through an outside area of the house. “You live here? By yourself?” She asked him, glancing over her shoulder as her eyes wandered over the antiques of the house.
“Yeah, I live by myself now.” He said, shrugging off his expensive jacket and hanging it on a rack. Thèrése felt an unfamiliar heat spread throughout her body as she watched him loosen the cuffs of his sleeves and collar of his shirt. “Now?” She asked.
“Had a roommate. We didn’t work out. He was a cunt.” He said, walking to a table and picking up a wine glass, pouring some for himself. “I know you don’t like wine. I’m afraid I have nothing else to drink, but if you would like some then tell me.” He said, taking a sip.
Thèrése watched the way he swallowed it, visibly seeing it travel down his throat. Her eyes zeroed in on the droplet the fell from his lips—and her head was suddenly spinning with thoughts of him consuming her blood.
It must’ve been the wine she had drunken before she arrived. That’s gotta be it, right? Why else would she be having such vile thoughts?
He didn’t give her time to linger on the thought much longer as he began to unbotton his shirt, ever so slowly walking closer to her. Almost like he was hunting her—but he wasn’t. He wouldn’t allow himself to hunt such a pure being.
Thèrése fiddled with the rings on her gentle fingers, watching, unsure of what to do as his shirt was swiftly removed, displaying his body. Slim, yet fit. She longed to trace over every piece of him, to memorize Louis inch by inch so she wouldn’t forget this very night.
His hands reached out to her. One placed delicately on the base of her neck, and the other, roughly pulling her body to his by her waist. Her breath got caught in her throat, and she couldn’t seem to stop herself from glancing down at his lips.
“Louis…” She said breathlessly. He could feel her heat radiating off of her, especially from where his hands were touching her body. He could smell the slick between her thighs he knew were meaty under her dress. “Need this off of you.” He said, tugging at her dress.
“You gon’ let me take it off you, mama?” He asked, gently as he searched her eyes for an answer. “Please.” She said, almost desperately, making her face flush in embarrassment. Louis laughed at her eagerness.
He removed her dress from her body, following with her gloves. She covered her breasts with her hands shyly, laced panties still on. Her dress was pulled at her feet and Louis removed her hands from covering herself.
Thèrèses’ nipples hardened under the rather cold air of his odd home. Louis hands cupped them, inspecting them with such admiration. “So pretty. So fuckin’ pretty.” He said, kissing a mole above her areola, down to where her perk nipple was.
He suckled it harshly into his mouth, massaging the other with his free hand. Thèrése whimpered at his assault on her nipple, watching as he switched to the other one. His tongue reached out to kitten lick her nipple as he held eye contact with her.
Thèréses’ thighs squeezed together as the burn between her thighs grew uncomfortably. “You gonna let me have you?” He asked, trailing one of his hands down to her panties. He kissed along her neck, all the way up, till he was at her mouth again.
“Yes, Louis.” She mumbled. Louis clicked his tongue. “Try again.” He urged. He pushed her panties to the side, slowly sliding in one of his slender fingers. Years of pleasurable experience revealing itself as he worked at her cunt.
“Y-Yes, sir. Oh—Oh god.” She whimpered out as she felt another finger prod at her entrance. Two of his fingers slammed into her sopping hole at an alarming rate. Thèrése felt herself grow weak in the knees, and Louis knew as he held her up. “Shh.” He whispered, his breath fanning her ear.
He slipped out his fingers and slightly bent down just enough to reach her bottom as he slightly tapped it. “Jump” he said. Thèrése jumped, wrapping her legs around Louis slender waist, and her arms around his shoulders as she buried her face into his neck, leaving small opened mouth kisses.
“So needy, aren’t you? You all needy for me?” He asked, even though he confidently knew what the answer was. Thèrése nodded her head against him, afraid her voice would betray her if she spoke and said anything.
He threw her onto the couch—not hard enough to hurt her, but enough to make her bounce slightly on the cushion. He wanted to see her bounce on him. The imagine of her on top of him trying her hardest to ride him while her breasts moved with each of her bounces made his cock twitch.
Thèrése was more overwhelmed than she had been her whole life. No one had ever seen her this bare as he took her panties off. She was ashamed to be letting him to these things to her, but she was more ashamed at the fact she grew aroused from it. Aroused from the power difference between them.
She might not have known to what extent his strength lied, but she knew he was strong. Strong enough to probably lift her with just a finger. The idea that he could bend her and use her to his liking sent a shiver down her spine of want. She needed him in every way she could have him.
Louis spread her legs apart, revealing her aching, wet cunt that looked almost painfully in need to be taken care of. Two of his fingers found their way back inside of her, working at her gummy walls as she whined and whimpered under him.
“Shh, I know. I know.” He whispered, his fingers growing more erratic. “Want you—in me, please.” She said desperately, a hand cupping his face. He was breathtaking. His thumb skillfully rubbed her clit at a slow pace, almost as if he was trying to sooth whatever pain Thèrése might’ve been feeling.
“Gonna make you feel fuckin’ amazing.” He said, pulling out his fingers. He unbuttoned his slacks and pulled them down along with his undergarments just enough to reveal his cock. Thèrése couldn’t help but just stare at it in a mix of emotions of fear, arousal, and excitement.
Fear from how intimidating it looked; long and uncut with a patch of curly hair at the top. Thèrése felt nasty as she realized just how badly she wanted to lick his happy trail. Arousal from his mushroom tip that was pulsing with desire, and pre cum leaking from his tip. Excitement bubbled as Thèrése thought about the events that were mere seconds from unfolding in front of her.
He slapped his meaty cock onto her pussy tauntingly, a wet, heavy sound, loud and prominent. She clenched around nothing, but slowly felt his tip enter her. It was a painful stretch as he slid himself in, inch by inch, trying his hardest not to hurt her.
Louis restrained himself as she clenched around him tightly. He knew this was the closest to heaven he’d ever get, with the angel under him at his mercy. His to do with whatever he pleased and saw fit. His in every aspect of her mortal, and soon immortal, being. Soul tied and bound to the earth together for eternity was the way he wanted to spend his days with her.
“Oh my God—oh fuck—” she gasped out, mouth hung slightly agape. Pain shot through her first, eyes watering as evidence, but was soon followed after with an immense pleasure she never knew she could feel. “Not God, Thèrése—Me.” He huffed as he gripped her thighs, throwing them over his shoulder.
Louis began to move his hips against her, slowly at first—then, in the blink of an eye, he snapped. The self restraint he forced himself to have was gone, and a seemingly sweet and charming man was replaced by a domineering beast.
At an inhumane pace, his cock hammered into her. His hands dug into her thighs in a tight grip—a grip so tight, his sharp nails broke skin. The scent of her blood filled his senses, and he went feral. His lips found her neck as he leaned down, leaving desperate kisses to subside the pain he was soon going to inflict on her porcelain throat.
“Louis—wait—” she pleaded, but made no movement to stop him. The pleasure was overwhelming as she arched her back into him, grasping onto his skin—still cold to the touch. Why was he so cold? She felt something sharp pierce the side of her throat, but oddly enough, the pain was overruled by the way he fucked her.
Thèrése wouldn’t be living much longer. “You’re to sweet for me.” He groaned, licking at the wound on her neck he had created. He watched blood ooze out of her, enjoying the crimson that decorated her neck. The familiar taste of pineapple was nothing if not addicting.
Thèrése felt weak, her body unable to hold itself up any longer as she grew light headed. The room began to spin, and Thèrése now knew she was no longer seeing things as his fangs poked two more holes near her wrist. Blood poured out of her and into his mouth.
Was this the way she would die? At the hands of the most charming man she’d ever met? The vampire who sealed her fate stopped sucking, slit his own wrist, and brought it to Thèréses’ mouth.
He fucked her harder, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoed throughout the room. Her moans got caught on his wrist as his blood trickled down her throat. Thèrèse, pupils dilated and on a high, felt her end near as she clutched his wrist to her mouth like she would never be able to drink the forbidden liquid ever again.
Louis snatched his wrist back from her mouth quickly before she made herself sick. He knew she would want more blood, so he instead flipped Thèrése onto all fours, arching her ass into the air. Thèrèse cried and begged for Louis wrist—his cold blood back in her mouth.
“Shhh, shut up. You’ve had enough. Don’t be greedy, baby.” He scolded, grabbing her by the back of her hair and shoving her face into the cushion. “P-Please—Louis, M’gonna c-cum. Need you.” She begged as she pushed her ass back onto him, meeting his hard thrusts.
Her words began to slur together as his brutal pace never faltered. The grip he had on her waist was bruising, but Thèrése couldn’t even feel it. Her body felt as though it was on fire from head to toe, and the unbearable heat and pressure of her cunt was all too much for the young fledgling.
“You said you wanted to see the stars forever, right?” He asked, his breath grazing the shell of her ear. He didn’t sound like he did earlier—calm and alluring. He sounded gruff and disheveled—and every word he spoke almost came out in a growl.
He felt his balls tighten, and ever muscle in his body tensed. “Gonna stuff this pretty ass cunt. You ready, darlin’?” He said, his southern drawl laced with every word. “Y-yesss.” She groaned out through clenched teeth as his hand found her clit.
He played with her clit like he had been doing this for years, expertly. An overbearing wave of pressure was what made Thèrése snap as juices poured out of her. Louis never once slowed down, and his fingers continued to help her ride her high.
Louis didn’t stop, still chasing his end. Thèrése mindlessly took everything he gave her as her pussy grew sore and overstimulated from the relentless of the top of his cock hitting her cervix. “Can’t—I can’t, sir—“ she choked out, her words sounding almost as if her mind was in a distant place.
“Take it, Thèrése.” He urged as he bit down onto his lip, trying his hardest to resist sinking his fangs into her again. Thèrése listened, and the only sounds that escaped her drying lips were moans and whimpers of pleasure. Only Louis would ever be able to see her this way—this desperate and in need for him.
“Good girl. Just like that.” He said, stuffing her pussy full of his cum. His head was thrown back in bliss as he fucked his seed into her, deeper and deeper as his high subsided into a dull aching feeling. “Did so well, baby.” He said, his voice shaky.
He slid himself out of her, and watched as his cum spilled from her used hole, and onto his expensive foreign furniture. Thèrése laid there, legs sore and head still spinning, now in a painful manner as Louis scooped her up into his arms bridal style.
“S-so you’re really a vampire, huh?” She asked through a long and drug out yawn. He chuckled as he gazed down at her small frame in his arms. “Yes, and come tomorrow night, you will be too.” He replied, walking up the stairs of his old home.
“I’m scared, Louis.” She whispered, blinking slowly. Thèrése grew tired, her eyes heavy with sleep. “You won’t be for long.” He said reassuringly. “You have me now. Forever.” He muttered as he pushed open a door.
A singular coffin was placed in the center, right in front of a fire place. Thèrèse was laid in the coffin by Louis, and she watched as he left the room to grab a warmed wash cloth. She was in love. She died in love. And now, for the rest of her dead life, she will continue to live in love with the man who swooned her in the alley.
Vampires say the worst thing to experience from immortal life is a simple thing; loneliness. A feeling Louis knew all too well, and how would never feel again. Thèrése wasn’t Lestat. She wasn’t cold, and manipulative. Calculated in every wrong doing. No, Thèrése was kind and gentle. Thoughtful with every word she spoke and every action she took.
Never again would Louis ever have to worry about being alone.
guys this took me like 3 weeks to write I’m obsessed with this show rn. I worked so hard on this so istg if it flops I’ll be so sad 😭🙏
don’t be shy, ask to be a part of the tag list and request stuff!!
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Last night I was struck by the urge to go draw my old Sonic FC for the first time in years. I don't talk about it much, but this has been genuinely hard for me to draw, emotionally speaking. I was pleasantly surprised to find that I could do this again after all this time.
This is Vibrance, my audiokinetic DJ who dreams of being a world renowned hero. I opted to try one version that matches her original design with a few tweaks, and one that mimics some of the changes that her OC counterpart has, since I have an original story with her that's moved away from Sonic completely. I gotta say, I think V1 wins for me, you just can't beat the original. Her quills were always meant to be kind of star shaped, she's a shooting star that won't stop shining at heart. It's silly, but it's my silly little thing, and I love her. It's so good to see you old friend.
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﹆₊ 腹‧₊˚ PISSIN' ME OFF, KINJI HAKARI
𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ﹆₊ 概要 ‧₊˚ you purposely piss hakari off. wc, 2.65K. dark mode recommended.
␥ note. this is my FIRST time writing for this man so don't beat me if this is inaccurate. ty @5kstxrz for giving me this idea (that’s twin mkay)
␥ tags. drinking, smoking, smut (omg wow), play fighting, female anatomy, etc. lmk if i missed anything
␥ misc. masterlist AO3
it was evident to everyone around that your relationship with hakari was filled with passive-aggressive behavior. even though it was apparent that you both cared for each other deeply, the continuous exchange of sarcastic remarks and subtle jabs made your friends and even strangers concerned about your well-being.
the constant bickering between you two was so intense that people often wondered if you were caught in a toxic relationship that you couldn't escape from. despite the love you shared, the tension between you two was palpable and gave rise to many uncomfortable situations.
hakari was a complex individual who had a penchant for indulging in vices. he was known to be a habitual gambler, a smoker, and a drinker. within his many addictions, he had a charismatic personality that drew people towards him. one of his peculiar habits was to take bets on trivial things, such as how many times you'd would insult him before expressing affection towards him. squeezing his waist, telling him how much you love him.
"you're just full of surprises, huh?" hakari chuckles at you as he kisses your head, returning the hug you had given him. "you still got a big head, though. nothin' can change that."
"like your head isn't bigger," you sucked your teeth before flashing a smile at your boyfriend. hakari would release you and stick his middle finger up at you before plopping down onto the couch, the piece of furniture grunting as his weight pressed down onto it.
once you walked into the apartment, the sound of glass shattering caught your attention. the pungent smell of a joint filled the air, and you could see hakari holding it loosely between her fingers. as you took a few more steps, you noticed a puddle of saké on the ground, which emanated an earthy aroma. the scene appeared to be somewhat chaotic, with broken glass, the smell of cannabis and spilled alcohol adding to the disarray.
as you noticed his tan face go pale, you instinctually reached out with your hand and gently brushed your palm against his cheek, hoping to rouse him from his slumber. however, the moment your skin came into contact with his, you couldn't help but notice how icy cold he felt. you paused for a moment, your hand still resting on his cheek, as you realized that something was not quite right.
suddenly, his eyes shot open, and he stared back at you with a look of confusion and surprise, as if you had just startled him out of a deep sleep. his blonde hair was tousled and messy, and his eyes were still cloudy with sleep. nevertheless, his gaze seemed to bore into you, and you couldn't help but feel a little unnerved by his sudden awakening.
"what the hell.." hakari let out a deep groan as he pushed himself up from the couch, lightly kicking the shattered glass beneath his feet. "hey, when'd you get here?" the male asked with a hint of slurring in his speech. as he looked up at you with heavy, droopy eyes, it was clear that he had indulged in some heavy drinking. the pungent odor emanating from him was reminiscent of a dead skunk, indicating that he had gone beyond his limits.
"just now," you suddenly blinked at the male. hakari, who was sitting in front of you, noticed your sudden movement and scratched the nape of his neck before tilting his head to crack his joints. the sound of his joints echoed in the quiet room as he stretched his muscles, trying to relieve the tension from his body after sitting for so long. "are you high?"
"high off my fever," the male chuckled as you saw the vibrance come back into his magenta-colored irises before pushing himself up from the couch, running his fingers through his twisted locks. "help me clean this mess up, will ya?"
as you turned around, you caught a glimpse of Hakari shuffling towards the kitchen. he seemed to be in a hurry, and you couldn't help but wonder what he was up to. a few moments later, he emerged from the kitchen with a rag in his hand.
you could see the dampness on the rag and could smell the cleaning spray that he had used to dampen it. it was clear that he was on a mission to clean up yet another one of his spills. you decided to have a little fun with him this time and stepped back, leaving him to his own devices.
"nah, you can handle it, i'm sure," you couldn't help but smirk at the other person present in the room as hakari began to clean up the mess. as he went about the task, he paused right in the middle, his gaze fixing on you, eyebrows raised in surprise. hakari had come to expect your help whenever he made his frequent messes, and he seemed taken aback that you were not offering to help him this time. his slitted eyebrows lowered in mild irritation and let his head fall back down to the puddle of saké, continuing to clean up the mess on his own.
hakari let out a soft sigh and spoke under their breath, "okay then." his voice was barely audible as they uttered the words, almost as if they were lost in thought. it was clear that hakari was contemplating something, perhaps your sudden shift in attitude when you chose not to help him clean the saké that was spilled on the hardwood floor.
this continued for the rest of the day. you and hakari were cuddled up together in bed watching a horror movie that he suggested for the two of you to watch together before heading to sleep that night. as you both watched the film, you felt pretty and wanted to take some photos.
despite your efforts to pose for the camera, it was no secret that you struggled with it. with your phone held out in front of you at an awkward angle, you squinted at the screen and kept adjusting the position, hoping for a better shot. however, all your attempts were in vain as your little device suddenly slipped from your grasp and landed firmly in hakari's hand. with effortless ease, the male took the phone from you and began capturing a few shots, skillfully adjusting the angle and focus to create the perfect photo.
"i had it, y'know?" you furrowed your eyebrows as you snatched your phone back from him. though you were being all fussy with hakari, saying how much you didn't really need his help with posing, he couldn't help but notice how enchanting you looked with your face being illuminated by the tv while the rest of you were consumed by the darkness of the room.
"yeah, sure you did." hakari rasped before suddenly pinning you to the bed and kissing you to silence your fussing. his legs wrapped around your thighs while his hands moved up and down your sides, his grip getting tighter as the kiss grew more passionate.
his mouth traveled from your lips to your neck, and back down again, his hand roaming up your thigh. both of you had been breathing quite heavily as he held you down with his body as your lips remained locked together. hakari moved back to your neck, lightly sucking on your skin, making sure he'd leave a mark on you.
as hakari sucked on your skin, you felt him pulling down your sweatpants. once your pants had gone past your knees and down to your feet, he tossed the item onto the floor, leaving your panties exposed to him. before he could slide them down, he paused, making sure to break his pace.
"just to let you know...before this goes any further..." he began softly, his grip on your hips becoming lighter. "i don't have a condom...is that good with you?"
you nodded, "it's okay." your reply was simple and to the point. hakari seemed a bit surprised by your directness, but he had a faint grin on his lips as well.
once your panties were completely off and out of the way, he would toss them onto the floor with your pants and continue his previous process, now using his fingers to explore your sensitive area. when hakari heard your breathing picking up and your whimpering became more evident, he smirked, and his hands began moving faster.
hakari was pleasantly surprised by your response and he began to move his fingers through your gummy walls faster and more confidently after hearing your vocality. his smirk grew as he continued, his gaze locked on yours. after a few moments, he finally decided to speak to break the silence that was accompanied by the sounds of your wetness.
"you like that, huh?" he mumbled to you, keeping his digits moving at a moderate pace, but the speed at which they moved started to slow down a little. you were honestly starting to think that he would never stop.
"you know....i- can't-" you stammered as you tried to speak while simultaneously fighting off your moans of pleasure that reverberated against the walls of your bedroom. you suddenly stopped trying to talk, as you realized that it was getting harder for you to do.
hakari groaned as your sounds became louder and heavier, a blush starting to form on his cheeks. his grip tightened again, and his fingers sped up once more, as he kept his eyes locked on yours then slowing down again. "you like this...yeah?" he grunted out. "tell me how much you like it..."
his tone was a lot more flirtatious now. his hand moved in a circular motion, now adding another digit into your core.
"i like it, hakari," you said breathily, your eyebrows knitting together while you attempted to keep your composure, but it obviously hadn't been going very well for you at the moment. "i love it, actually."
hakari continued to listen to your responses, and his lips grew into a wider grin as he heard your words. his hands continued their pace as well, and after a moment of thinking, he spoke again. "mhm..." he mumbled back. "you love it, huh? good."
his grip on your waist was quite tight at this point, but he was enjoying it, judging by the wide smile that he had on his face. once again, he started to speak.
"aw, you're just so cute," he crooned, moving his hands back down between your legs. "and you're a vocal one too."
as hakari started to pick up his pace once again, enjoying the loud noises you were making. he was almost sure the neighbors heard you. he had been teasing you to the fullest, you were starting to get impatient with him.
"please, i don't want your fingers," you finally spoke up, your breath hitching as you spoke. "i want you inside." your words caught hakari off guard and he was never really expecting you to want anything more from him. in fact, it only made him grin even more as his eyes locked with yours.
"really...?" he muttered, squeezing your waist a bit with each passing moment. "you sure you don't want my fingers, you want the entire thing, huh?"
when you nodded in response to his question, he let out a grunt as he began to move his hands down to get himself in position. the male would remove his shirt and then his pants and his hands were on your waist while your legs spread far enough to accommodate him. hakari was already breathing heavily at this point, and once he got himself into the proper position, he moved your legs over your head as he prepared to enter you.
once he was inside, his grip on your hips became tight. his movement was a bit slow as well, just to start off. he grunted once again, starting to speed up with each passing moment. his breath getting heavy. your arms were wrapped around his body and when hakari decided to speed up, your grip tightened and your nails proceeded to dig into his back.
hakari groaned, digging his hand deeper into the mattress underneath him as he got into it more at this point. his grip on her hips were as tight as could be, as he looked into her eyes, a grin on his face. the feeling of your nails digging into his back and your moans from them were almost enough to make him lose it. hakari was clearly enjoying this, and so he pressed even deeper, starting to move faster with each passing moment.
“shit...” his pace continued to speed up, as he began to breathe more heavily. “moan for me...” hakari grunted in a somewhat harsh sounding tone, but still somewhat flirtatious. despite the change in his tone, he was enjoying himself as his pace continued to increase.
doing as told, you let out a soft moan as your hips started to react to his movements. hakari seemed delighted by your reaction. his smile grew even stronger. now that you were moaning for him, his fingers gripped onto the sheets of the bed and sweat beads began to form on his forehead.
the male moved closer to your face in order to see you better, his hand still moving. he grunted loudly as he moved even faster, the pace becoming almost relentless. he wanted you to feel amazing, but he also wanted himself to feel just as good, so he moved at a pace where they both felt pleasure. this went on for a while, until he eventually felt himself starting to get close.
once he felt himself get closer, he slowed down a little bit, his grip on her continuing to stay tight and his voice becoming a little raspier from all the movement. “you close?” he grunted out, his breath heavy from all of the movements, just as his voice was heavy due to the sounds you was making.
“yeah,” you breathed out, tears starting to form in your eyes from the pressure.
the movements continued on, picking up speed again, and he stayed as deeply as he could get inside of you. his hand tightened again as well, as he kept his pace the same as before, if not faster.
“fuck, i'm so close...” he murmured, grunting once again. his pace was getting faster, and the movements were becoming more repetitive as he grunted again. his hand kept its grip on your hips.
the sound of your moaning and his grunting became quite loud in the room now, as they just kept going at it. as hakari’s breath became even heavier, his hand moved from her hip up to her neck, starting to grab her a little bit to hold her in place.
“don’t fuckin’ move..." hakari mumbled out, still having his hand on her neck as he moved faster. the sounds of you and his breathing, his grunting, and your moaning were all really loud and heavy. you could barely feel his grip on her stomach anymore, as his hand had moved to her neck now.
“fuck... i'm...” he grunted, his voice becoming hoarse. this continued for a few moments more, but after enough time had passed, he finally stopped. strings of white ropes landed onto you and the bed sheets. hakari released another groan and the grip on your neck loosened finally, leaving purple marks on your skin.
hakari laid down beside you, still breathing heavily. he was dripping with sweat and so were you. both having a panting expression on your faces. although he was exhausted from the whole ordeal, a wide grin was still on his face.
"you know..." he started between breaths, still gripping your waist. his body was leaning against yours, putting pressure on you. "you still got a fat ass head...but i really enjoyed that."
"man, you don't ever let a good moment go by," you playfully roll your eyes as you finally catch your breath. hakari shrugged, giving you a goofy smile before kissing your cheek and resting his head against your chest.
"wanna watch another movie?" he mumbled against your body, lightly kissing you and rubbing your slightly bruised sides with his thumb. you put your hand on his head, running your fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp.
"one more and then i'm going to bed." you said as you pulled the blanket over your bodies. hakari sucked his teeth as if he didn't like the idea of watching a final movie then going to sleep.
"i won't be letting you sleep, then," the male smirked as he grabbed the remote from the nightstand and began to search for another movie for the night.
⠀© vmpiires | like, reblog & follow.
#𝐾𝑂𝑇𝐴 𝑊𝑅𝐼𝑇𝐸𝑆 書く#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#anime#jjk x reader#hakari kinji#jjk hakari#hakari x reader#hakari smut#jujutsu hakari#jjk x you#jjk smut#jjk fluff#jujutsu choso#choso kamo#jujutsu kaisen choso#jjk choso#hakari x black!reader#choso x reader#choso x black!reader#jjk nanami#jjk geto#jjk gojo#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu geto#jujutsu gojo#jujutsu kaisen smut#writeblr#writers on tumblr#writing
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✧˚·.SashiAvi's Kinktober Day Five.·˚✧
#5|Stuck/Stuckage|#5
Alex x Reader - Word Count - 3.3k
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Now. How exactly did you end up here? – Stuck half-in the cubed lockbox attached to the bottom of the bath house lockers, the metal snug around your shoulders in your attempt to reach, your knees bent into a crawl and aching in protest as they press against the cold tile floor of the locker room.
Well. It starts with one of your regular sessions with Alex at the bathhouse, the man taking up the impromptu role of a personal trainer, guiding you through the wonders of working out.
Farmwork was a tricky business, it made sense to build up your body for your own sake, avoiding any long lingering aches and pains. All it took was your own questioning about the weight set in his room before the man was dragging you up to the gym residing in the facility.
He prided himself on his physicality - That mindset bordering on toxic positivity - Rise and grind.. Or something. Truthfully the way he managed to slurp down a whole raw egg was a sight to see, and usually one you cared not to view. But his passion was endearing, cute even, a sparkle twinkling in his eye at the premise of having a buddy to work out with. You weren’t entirely sure of how exactly you felt about the man.
Was he cute? Handsome? Charming? Just how much did you like him.. What kind of like even was it? In another world, he seemed like the stereotypical jock type. Uncaring and maybe even cruel. Giving no attention to anyone outside of his own circle.
But that wasn't him at all, was it? Considerate and willing to help, gentle despite the thick muscles adorned on his body.
You arrived together as you usually did, splitting up at the door before you entered into the designated locker rooms, changing clothes, prepping yourself all ready to meet up in the middle on the other side, like clockwork. Except there's no squeak of your gym shoes against the tile, a lack of kinetic vibrance that Alex was rather quick to notice.
You weren't there.
Instead, he hears a yelp and a swear of profanity, breaking his concentration from the flex of his muscles in the mirror, your voice calling from the other side of the wall. He hears you groan, muffled and echoed, bouncing around, grating like metal. Cogs work in his brain, churning and turning with curiosity. He shouldn't.. Should he? Alex doesn't think for much longer before he makes way for the ladies' locker room, easily entering through the cut-out entrance. Something right in the very back of his mind chirps at him, about decency and maybe the implications of a man waltzing into a private space like this- But, call him concerned.
You hear Alex’s footsteps, a little squeaky, the grip on the bottom of his shoes catching on to the slick tile with every push of his feet. You wiggle and squirm, cursing the manufacturers of the locker, fighting the stinging scream of your shoulders at your attempt to pull yourself out. You did not, in fact, fit in the square hole.
Yoba, you were embarrassed, trapped within the confines of the cubic space, face down ass up with nowhere to run, as if you were stuck in some kind of cheap porn script written by some lazy author.
God, at least you were decent, gym shorts saving your dignity. You never meant to get stuck like this, obviously- But you couldn't help your water bottle taking a tumble to the floor and choosing to roll into one of the open lock boxes, you had to save the poor thing yourself. You just didn't expect the damned box to have so much depth to it, didn’t think you’d trap yourself inside, had at least a little faith that your limbs would squeeze and cooperate to get yourself free easy-peasy. You supposed the spirits were displeased today. Maybe even finding amusement at your pitiful predicament.
“Uhhh..” Alex’s voice drawls in an awkward, questioning hum, muffled through the rusted metal walls of the lockbox. You can imagine the look on his face, head quirked with a scrunch to his brow, those deep green eyes squinting in confusion. “What.. Are you doing?”
“Alex-!” You squirm, hissing at the ache in your joints, the hearty creak in your bones at your attempts to wiggle free. You must look like a fool. “Can you..- Can you help me?” You ask, a little timid in your tone, feeling your upper body starting to get clammy, hyperaware at just how tight the space really was.
Alex wasn't fairing much better.
His gaze locked on your rear, watching the cut legs of your cloth gym shorts ride up your thighs with all of that squirming, legs spread wide apart while you rested on your knees, back arched all the way down for your torso to fit into the small space. Your feet rest on your ankles, chunky sneakers with socks pulled up your calves, framing them with a subtle squish by the sock elastic, looking cute and sporty- If he looked hard enough, he's sure he can see the outline of lace hugging the supple swell of the mound of your-
“Alex.” You call out desperately, snapping the brunette out of his thoughts. “Please.” You’re begging on your hands and knees here – Literally.
“Right-! Right yeah..” He shuffles over, gulping a thick swallow of saliva that dared to pool up under his tongue, hands open and moving awkwardly, hovering over your form here, there and everywhere. Does he grab your hips? The curve of your waist? Press his warm and clammy palms into the thick of your thighs and drag you by your legs? “How..?” He feels stupid for asking.
“I don’t know, just.. Grab me?” You were short with him, frustrations bubbled up by nothing but your own predicament and the fact that you had managed to get yourself stuck like that.
Alex rests a hand on both of your hips, warm against your chilled bare hip bone, shirt risen up, hidden skin exposed to the cool, damp locker room air thanks to your squirming. His fingers were long, easily wrapping around and digging into the tender spot of your pelvis, giving a tender squeeze into it. Your body tenses up with a surprised jolt, a squeak chirped off of your lips and a scold right on the edge of your tongue.
You can only imagine the position, and Alex was lucky enough to see it; Crouched between your spread legs with an eye full of your behind, hands on your hips in such a compromising position, flooding his brain full of dirty, dirty ideas. There's a strain in his pants, the telltale pulse of blood gushing up into the plum-pink tip of his cock, pressing uncomfortably on the tight seam of his shorts. He feels the thick vein on his undershaft throb, raring to go with just a little touch to your body.
“Do I just, like.. Pull?” Alex smacks his lips, trying to be useful, looking at the wall of the locker, trying to find a way out.
“I guess?” You shimmy again, squirmy in his hold, making his fingers twitch with the hot urge to hold you down and still. The more you shift the harder it is to think straight, watching and feeling your body move under him, at the mercy of him. He was in control right now. In control of you.
“Okay..” He starts with a gentle tug, feeling out the tightness of your situation, trying to gently ease you from the confines of the space. He finds himself leaning over your body in some sort of attempt at getting the best grip on you, subsequently pressing his groin right into your ass. The thick press of his boner kissing a grind on your clothed cunt, urging up his own creak of a groan.
“Alex.. are you-?” Your eyes widen in the darkness, thighs tensing in a pitiful attempt to close and snap shut. You can't deny the heat of the situation, feeling awfully exposed and on display, not having a say in where his eyes land, where those hands touch, all dark and muffled inside the locker. You can’t stop the squeak of a noise you make, overwhelmed at the premise of Alex being on top of you-
Poor Alex. He honestly panics, tugging at you with a newfound gusto in an attempt to distract you, to free you. But he immediately regrets it, hearing you squeak and squeal, telling him to “wait wait wait-” huffing at the sting of metal uncooperative with your body. His hands feel like they’ve burnt you, seared into your skin- not to mention his little friend down there, saying a cheeky peek-a-boo against your supple, clothed folds.
The brunette feels a spike of adrenaline, a shock at the idea of actually causing some sort of hurt towards you, his hands slipping with his grip.
It's honestly almost comical.
Feeling Alex's fingers hook into your waistband as he fumbles, yanking down your shorts in an easy motion, fully exposing everything you had to offer up hugged behind your half-off panties. The thin fabric of your underwear was the only thing keeping up any ounce of dignity you had left. You thought it couldn't get any worse? Well it has now.
“Fuck- Shit sorry-” Alex cuts off with a sigh, seeing your shorts pool at the bend of your spread knees, your panties half off of your ass, showing off a peak of your goods, that darker line running down between your cheeks. He swallows again, his hand daring to find itself on your ass cheek, fingers spread and palm flat, shamelessly squishing in an inappropriate grope.
“A..Alex-” You warn, as if you weren't sinking your teeth into your tender bottom lip. He breathes your name back, veiny hands soothing and squishing, exploring over the expanse of your ass, down, down until he hits the drooled-up wet fabric poorly covering your pussy.
You should kick him- Shout and squirm and knock him off of his feet but- Yoba, his touch burned hot, coursing a warm pulse throbbing on the bud of your clit. “P..Please..” What were you begging for? God knows. But Alex snatches up what you put down for him.
He wastes no time, pulling down the elastic of your panties, letting them fall down your thighs, fabric stretching with the spread, nestling nice and pretty with your dangling shorts. You moan out a soft hum, eyes rolling back in the darkness, brain working in overdrive trying to paint the pretty picture. Arched beautifully for him, legs spread so wide, rendered useless in this position, right for him to hold on to, use as some kind of leverage for- Fuck.
You hear a hot spit of his lips and feel a fat glob of saliva land on your folds.
The brunette suckles on his own fingers, coating them up in a thick sheen over saliva, tongue swirling around his own digits at the sight of your bare and supple cunt. He had to get in you, needed it. Needed to feel the velvety wrap of your cunt on- Yoba, anything of his.
He pops his fingers out with a vulgar wet noise, raking them through your drippy pussy lips, only adding to the dribbly wetness between your legs. Another spatter of saliva, thick, spitty and bubbly white, sliding down through your folds like a sweet teardrop. He breathes your name again, head cotton stuffed, barely asking you for permission before he was easily slipping in two of his fingers, knuckle deep right into the doughy swell of your hole.
“Fuck..” He’s a man of many words, clearly. Your slick pools against his knuckles, already forming a thick ring of cream around his fingers. He’s slow at first, marvelling at the way your pussy suckles him in, how warm and supple you were on his digits, so fucking soft against the rough calloused paw of his hand. In and out. In. And. Out. Carefully pushing two fingers into your cunt hole, twisting his wrist to dive them in, soft and slow with a thick curl at the end of his push.
You seem to gasp every time. Soft little noises sucked in and pushed out with each tender curl of his fingers. He can't help but watch in awe, jaw slack and lips parted, sun-kissed face burning into a blush of red. He speeds up, eyes widening at the newfound squelch against his knuckles, echoing around the tiled room.
“A-Alex.. Just- Hahh.. Just fuck me! I need it- please?” Yoba, you don’t know why this was driving you so crazy, never before having the thought cross over your mind- Feeling like some helpless free-use toy. But you were thinking with your gut, the dumb thing connected to the throb of your clit, influencing your sense deprived brain, craving more, more touch more of him. More of Alex.
“Fuck- Okay. okayokay- S’okay m’ gonna fuck you…- gonna fuck you now-” He all but babbled, nervous and fast in tone, completely ignoring the previous pressing issue of getting you out. Now all in favour of drilling himself in.
His cock is quickly freed. Tip dark and angry with arousal, leaking out little pearls of pearlescent precum, crying out for the sweet wrap of your pussy. He jerks himself off, wetting his length with your juices, letting the thick vein throb against the delicious sticky kiss of your cunt. He finds himself tapping his cock over the slick-wet folds of your achy cunt, slap, slap, slap, sliding through your wetness while he jerks himself.
He sighs out in awe at the sweet jumps you give, each flinch and feeble attempt to push back on him. You weren't faring any better in there. Imagination running rampant, stuck in a twisted sensory deprivation chamber, dark and warm, blind to Alex’s actions, giving him surprised jolts and jumps with every touch.
He lets the dark pink mushroom tip of his dick push in, just the tip- Juust the tip – Huffing a short groan when it pops out of your cunt with a dirty-wet sound, forcing the man to grit his teeth tight. He keeps it up, letting the thick, weepy pudge of his cock head catch on your hole, choking a groan behind his teeth every time it slips back out.
You squirm against the confines of your little box prison, about to whine out another beg before Alex beats you to it. His hand holds your hip, nice and steady as if it could move at all right now. He talks you through it, breathing out babbled praises, reassurances, oddly sweet despite the vulgar scene. Ohh, but when he finally sinks into you, pushing deeper, deeper, deeper! Thick tip kissing lovingly at the swell of your cervix, nestled nice and snug in your guts.
“Al..ex..” Yoba, it's the only word you know, it seems. A Chant easily dropping off of your tongue, murmured around the walls of the locker you’d stuck yourself in,
You’re not the only one. Alex can’t help but breathe out your name, again and again falling off of his lips like drool while he sinks into your cunt. Finally, finally feeling the sweet swell of your cunt enveloped the fat length of his cock, silky soft walls hugging on him. You squeeze-
How could he keep his hips still like this? Why bother at all? He surely doesn’t.
The brunette rolls his hips into your ass, rolling his eyes with his own movement, relishing in the gushy snuggle of your walls on his cock. He finds himself mindlessly rocking his thick cock into your silky pussy, humping his hips against your ass like some kind of mutt in heat. His hands wrap around the lovely spread of your thighs, hooking under, using you as leverage and careful as he can, using your pussy like a special toy, tender with his grinding rolls.
He can feel you attempt to give it back, trying your best to hump back on his lap, take him down deeper, kissing your folds on his base, letting those wiry hairs brushed over his lap get all sticky-slick. His mouth falls open at the sight, stringy, creamy, frothy- a mess in his lap all drooled by your cunt, wet pussy kisses with each rolling fuck of his hips.
A heavy breath makes its way through his nose, eyes hyper-focused on the pretty, creamy ring around his length as he fucks his hips against you, watching the mess slowly leak its way onto his pants loosely dropped down his waist. An ache builds in his pelvis, the thick vein pulsing on the underside of his cock.
You felt mindless, stuck in the warm darkness, humid with your own breath, skin tacky and moist, joints aching, back pinching but fuck- You couldn’t care less. Not with the heat between your legs, or the praises and promises babbled by the man behind you. Yoba, especially not with the way he moves to mount up on you, soft fucks turned hearty and thick, clapping hard, pelvis slapping into your ass and pussy.
He fucks you. Holding you nice and steady for his hips to snap, finishing off each and every thrust with a roll to his hips, jabbing the pudge of his tip into the supple, mushy little spot inside of you. Alex eyes the pretty ripple of your ass clapping on his pelvis, whimpering deep in his throat with how juicy and gushy your cunt was on his length.
I was all so much. For both of you-
His hips snap, pace faltering, clapping his hips in heated but sloppy staccatos, dragging his cock out and slamming right back in with a wet smack of his hips. You cry with every thrust, muffled and echoed against the walls of the lockbox, silky cunt squeezing on his tip, babbling his name over and over and over.
“Shit- Babe-!” He throws out the name and fuck, it feels right. It's all over when his fingers dare to come forth, rubbing tight circles into your sticky clit, twiddling with the little thing, making you tighten-
Oh it's a dangerous game, feeling the supple milk of your pussy, squeezing on his length in those sweet pulses while you cream- He has to pull out- Fuck, gotta cum-
The poor guy barely makes it, spilling onto your weepy cunt, jerking himself off over your back, letting ropey spurts of hot cum land in spatters over your skin. Of course he keeps his other hand up, circling your clit feverishly in the same pattern he strokes off his cock, working you both through those tender orgasms you’d brought upon each other-
It’s all hot breaths, panting hard, chest heaving with the comedown. Oh poor you, achy legs still all stuck, sweaty body slippery against the squeeze of metal. Alex notices in his haze, scooping you into his arms, uncaring of the sticky, musky splashes of cum stained over your back. He hushes you, huffing a chuckle into your neck when he finally gets you free!
“Hi..” You groan, falling into his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck, daring to stretch your legs with a wobbly twitch, cramping hard in your calf.
“Hey.” He blinks, hand already working to soothe your poor muscles, massaging warmth into your skin, on fire compared to the freezing floor tiles.
“So..” The brunette bites into his bottom lip, kissing his teeth with a pondering tut before he turns to properly face you, flashing a teeth-filled, goofy grin.
“How about a bath?”
→ Kinktober Masterlist & Taglist ←
Thank you so much for reading! If you have any thoughts please let me know! I'd love to hear them <3 your words spur my heart on!
Property of : SashiAvi
TagList
@deepestnightcolor @madsw9 @the-massive-simp @neetily @wrongdodo @modern-gremlin @blakebearsblog @skelitea @saoirse06 @yumelurve @kiwibyssongg @scrunkle-writings @regalchick33 @sydbeenis @kasasim @cheerupbabie @shinypainterturtle @callinz @jellyfishlord123 @b-lossm @tetatitanica @princesstiti14 @cherryminxx @kyrothehornypuppy @animeandobeymefandom @thecr0w @toorusproblems @joviaschaoticmind @quiruifam @sturniolopowers @hon3yydew @ghost--heart @booitzbellie @skullkroncher @maryenette @asssholeuwu @cowboyweevil @heylisin @its-starlight-farm @cheezydoritos69 @sephreads0 @hitatwiin @avocado-sloth @empressil @loverboykirstein
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Unintelligible chanting echoed in a warehouse. A perfect summoning circle drawn on the ground with one cultist standing before it with a group more standing behind them.
Even thought the chanting was unintelligible, it was perfect. Not a clipped word or uneven tone out of place as they all, in unison, chanted the words to summon an almighty being from beyond.
Even as interlopers broke in the warehouse, they didn't stop chanting, only the cultists who weren't chanting and were previously standing around the room, broke away in an attempt to stall.
The circle glowed a toxic, unnatural green before growing dark yet darker. A black, mist like substance spreading from its focal point and out into the bounds of the circle before twisting and twisting as the temperature rose and grew into a sweltering heat that could be felt all throughout the warehouse.
They did not stop chanting.
Even as the last of their guard fell.
They did not stop chanting.
Even as some of the cultists at the back of the group started to engage in combat.
They did not stop chanting.
Until finally, the black mist twisted into a brilliant, unnatural black flame as the heat soared and shaped itself in the giant form of a bird before larger than large wings snapped themselves open.
Black flame slide off of the being's form like water, small flickers of deceptively harmless looking flame trailed down the bounds of the summoning circle as the phoenix lowered itself.
"So we meet again." The being spoke, its very presence demanding attention and respect. Impossibly red eyes focused all of their intent on the cultist and the helm. "What do you want this time? I am quite busy, as I'm sure you should be aware."
"O'h' great one," The cultist fell to their knees, hands spreading up and out reminiscent of a prayer. "The deepest flame, the guardian of the blackest fire, rival of the-"
"Enough of that nonsense." The being snapped, scoffing as it turned its head in disdain. "I did not answer your pitiful call just to hear you praise me. Make your demand, now. I have an appointment to keep."
The cultist seemed to deflate, for but a mere moment, before lowering their hands and clasping them in front of their chest. "O' great one, I have sowed the seeds and cultivated a cult in your name through the ages, we are might in number and consistent in our worship."
"I do not need a recap." The Pheonix said, blandly. Looking utterly disinterested in the cultist's words. "Your demand."
"After all of this, surely you would not mind parting with but a bit of your power?" The cultist asked and finally, the Pheonix seemed to stare with something more than mere disinterest before snapping its head up. "Do not interfere, mere interlopers." It snapped.
The heroes froze as, suddenly, they felt held down in place.
It then disregarded them, staring back down at the cultist before him with some level of interest and clicked its tongue. "Already blessed with immortality yet you wish for more? How..." Its eyes seemed to smile. Amused. As it purred. "Ambitious."
"Please, O' great one. Just a bit. A mere fraction would be enough."
"Oh all alright," The Pheonix said, holding up a wing as it plucked off a feather with its beak. "I suppose you have done enough to be worthy of a bit of my power."
The feather flew down from its beak, encased within a ball of black flame that, as the cultist spread their arms, fused into their chest.
"Do try not to be consumed by it. As I do expect noteworthy things from you."
With that, the Pheonix disappeared in a puff of mist like fire. The circle instantly losing all vibrancy and the sweltering heat snuffing itself out.
And the heroes were free of whatever magic kept them bound in place.
The cultist slowly stood up, back facing them as something bubbled up under the back of their cloak before large, flaming wings burst through the cloth of their cloak. They slowly turned around, and the movement almost looked serene, and faced the heroes.
The cultist slowly spread their hands. "I would have thought the Justice League would have handled this matter themselves, not send their younglings after me." They spoke, calm and measured and holding no feeling whatsoever. Black flame spilled from their hands as they stretched their wings.
"Come. Young heroes. You would be the perfect steppingstone to test my new abilities."
#dc x dp#dpxdc#dp x dc#dcxdp#dp x dc crossover#dc x dp crossover#In case you didn't know#The Pheonix is Vlad#The cultist is an immortal#Young Justice was sent to check it out#Not gonna lie this seems like a boss fight#And the dialogue between Vlad and the cultist was like some kinda cutscene#Lawl#You have no idea how much I considered making the cultist some immortal child#Who was saved by Vlad on a whim and has been summoning him through the ages like a child would#To excitedly show their parent their progress#Also probably not important but the cultist is gender-neutral because idk I just didn't feel like gendering them
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˓ ⊹ ˚. ‹ falling (without grace.) mash burnedead
my headcanons of mash having feelings for you…albeit very oblivious.
notes. love him sm bro aughh this actually took way too long than intended, mainly because i stretched it out until the part where finn and co. noticed your relationship with mash. (i’ll post that in the part two)
i don't think he's aware of it, because things really click slowly to him.
but he knows that he likes to be your friend. to be near you in ways he's able to. drawn in your presence like a puppy following you around, inexplicably yet admittedly so.
you’d see him idling around the door once your period ends with his widely known stoic face. he’ll walk you to your next class and maybe even carry your books/belongings if you have any, without much of an explanation (because how could he explain it to you? how could he when he can’t translate these actions from the heart to make his brain understand?). mash is a quiet person, that much you’re aware of, but in this breath of quiet—you know he’s doing it because he wants to, god he’s even willing to listen to you ramble too, somehow finding it easy to digest your words. your voice trickles in his head, sometimes echoing. something blossoms in his chest spreading far and wide. he feels at ease.
he asks you if you’re free at times, because he’ll absolutely pull you towards the school kitchen as you help him make his creampuffs.
don’t know how to or where to start? it’s okay, he’ll gleefully teach you the basics. and if you ask him the journey of perfecting his skills, he’ll tell you that too, vibrance coloring his eyes.
and he’ll also take the time to learn your favorites! if you like them extra sweet, or not so much, don’t even be surprised if he gives them to you one day!
໒ ྀི⸝⸝´ ˘ `⸝⸝ ა i could just see him timidly touchy with you (but with consent, of course!!) like bumping his shoulder to yours, ghostly leaning his head against your shoulder/head, fixing your hair, poking or pinching your cheeks. its just aaaAaaaaaAAAAAA such small acts would absolutely complete his day <3
there could be moments where you’d be in the library, he’d sit across from you—again, without the mouth formulating words of explanation. he’ll tell you he wants to watch you study: flicking his gaze every so often towards you, to your materials, and eventually will feel sleepy so he takes a nap with arms crossed, resting his head against it, and there’s something about him that makes you come to a halt with what you’re doing—like an invitation of sorts, coaxing you. he looks so peaceful, his lips parted just slightly as he breathes evenly.
maybe after doing your homework you’ll also take up the wonderful offer of a nap. there’s a want settling within, you know you want him to be near you too. and so you let him tempt you like this, because it’s nice, because he’s nice. and sweet, and quiet.
so earnest in his ways, and who wouldn’t discern them as a language of his romantic feelings? at least, you do notice them. you haven’t seen him done any of these things with anyone, the thought has only arrived at the point of midnight before you go to bed.
(the next day, it’d still be the same. for you.)
(however, how long will it take for him to realize?)
you were happy like this. you like the quiet—the kind that mash brings. he doesn’t quite understand why you were smiling so brightly one day, more…warmer than he’d ever seen, and that it sends him into a state of awe. fondness written in his eyes. albeit small, the ends of his lips rise in a grin. he’s just as happy as you are. perhaps a little bit than he’s aware. flushed pink ears that tells you everything. and when you gently pinch his cheeks and greet him “g’morning, sugar” he swears he’ll do anything just to keep you calling him that.
until then, your heart shall learn to bask in the quiet, falling—slowly, even without grace.
taglist. @seneon (taglist are open! just send me an ask :D)
notes. im actually so tired rn but mash does wonders to me, hes becoming one of my comforts now. cant wait to finish the part two as wellll
© kyoghurts. ★ reblogs & likes are well appreciated!
#Ⳋ ★ .ᐟ — 𝒌. presents#Ⳋ ★ .ᐟ — 𝒌. mashle#mashle x reader#mash burnedead#mash x reader#mashle fluff#mashle headcanons#mashle magic and muscles#mash burnedead x reader#mash headcanons#mashle drabble#mash fluff#mashle x you#mashle imagines#mashle#mashle x y/n#mash x you#mash burnedead fluff
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