#╰ *:･ﾟthread ──❝ thunder god ❞

[toxinoire]

The craziest thing about Epic is that it didn't need Ody's canon to The Odyssey SA to show that Odysseus has lost his own autonomy anyway.

He embraces his side as "the monster" until you question, is he really? Or did he really have no choice?

Looking at the line of "I am not your kind and gentle husband" makes me think back to Just A Man.

It is shown that Odysseus really hates being soldier. He had no choice but to kill the infant because Zeus told him to. And Troy? If we look at The Iliad, he didn't want to go to war from the beginning. And this is the first real time he loses a part of him; his kindness makes him argue with Zeus, his gentleness makes him willing to raise the boy. But he couldn't defy the King of The Gods.

And then Polites tries to bring those parts back, even unintentionally. But Athena tries to tell him he can't do that--his mentor contributes to losing those aspects of himself.

Next is when Polites dies, and well, that's self explanatory.

Another is when Polyphemus kills some of his crew. Part of his identity is being a captain, a king. He knows how to lead people. But then shit went down and he slowly fails to be captain anymore.

And then Poseidon adds onto making Odysseus lose that side of himself more by killing majority of his men.

Circe's Island made him hold onto the scraps of being a captain he has left in him. But even so, Circe tried to lust him so she could kill him, which itself is bad. Though Circe lets them go, even though Ody was unaware of Circe almost killing him, that itself made him hold onto the husband part of him more. That's what got him out of it.

So the Underworld. He hears the screams of his men, and their last thoughts blaming him. Their last thoughts being "Captain, why would you let the Cyclops live when ruthlessness is mercy-" is them blaming Odysseus for their deaths. This makes him lose more of his captain side.

Then he sees Polites, and then his mom. He breaks down again after we last saw him do so in Troy.

And then Tiresias shows him his fate, which he misinterprets. Why? We all know the man is him, but why did he not think it was him? He was holding onto the husband part of him the most, so much that it blinded him.

So here comes song 20.

And in the Thunder Saga, we see him lose more of his gentleness and kindness. He's also barely holding onto being a captain by a thread.

Scylla is the entire explanation.

Mutiny is the last bit of that thread and it finally snapped during Thunder Bringer. He lost his leadership, he's no longer a captain. And quite frankly, it traumatized him so much already.

Calypso's island, though this version makes Calypso naive, she, like Jorge said, is ruthless in her own way. He was trapped. He was probably still holding onto the husband aspect of him subconsciously, as to why he never slept with her. But it was buried pretty deep.

"All I hear are screams" Who's to say he hadn't been hearing this for the past seven years, but that day he was so close to losing to those screams. He lost his side of being a captain, he lost his side of being a friend, he lost his side of being gentle and kind.

So his side as a husband is all he could hold onto anymore in The Vengeance Saga. During Full Speed Ahead, we see his king aspect through the lyric "Ithaca's waiting, my kingdom is waiting" but in Dangerous, he has no more king aspect. It's just him wanting to be home to his family at this point.

And then he loses himself more in Six Hundred Strike, as he lost his last bits of mercy when Poseidon offered him none. All that's left of him is wanting to be with Penelope, and his hopes of finally seeing his son.

The suitors' plans had been horrible. But honestly, he would have killed them anway even if they hadn't planned shit. He lost his patience for threats, he lost his mercy, his gentlessness. He is still cunning, but he's gone. Odysseus, King of Ithaca, is gone. "Old king" He's still king by title, but can he really manage a whole kingdom anymore? Like he used to since he was thirteen?

If it had not been for Penelope, he never would have embraced that he, no matter what, is still just a man, no matter how monstrous. But he lost so much of himself, and he knows. He lost his own autonomy, he lost what he knew of himself.

Finally holding his son and his wife yelling at him made him understand that he's still human, but post Epic/The Odyssey the man is already so traumatized, that he most likely forgot so many things of himself. He lost what made him Odysseus, King of Ithaca, which is a BIG part of him. Odysseus, husband of Penelope, father lof Telemachus, is all that's left of him. While those may be the most important parts of him, he's still traumatized, and only knows of himself as a monster now.

He is, quite frankly, no longer him.

[whysosincere]

Chapter 6

Raiden threw Reptile's battered carcass to the floor, the scaled flesh still smoldering, and scanned the chamber for any sign of its master. Instead, the god of thunder beheld a haunting sight that clutched at his heart. He approached the stone altar, thoughts a roiling tumult as he noted the woman's completely still form, and not even the whisper of breath upon her lips.

Y/N's lifeless body beckoned Raiden inexorably forward. Fujin's warnings, his own bickering, and the guilt of desire weighed terribly as he looked upon this frail, cold, mortal woman before him.

Consumed by grief, he finally averted his eyes. Rage, sorrow, and regret blinding him to the sorcerer's sudden attack. Raiden felt his collar jerked back, and in a flash he was hurled in an arc through the air, landing upon countless sharpened spikes of bone that pulsed with hellish power, impaling him throughout. Raiden choked in shock, his blood suffused with divine essence spattering the ground as he struggled in vain to free himself. A volley of flaming, chittering skulls assailed the god of thunder as he attempted to rally, and a smirking Shang Tsung revealed himself with dissipating wreathes of flame. He bid the hellish spikes to rise, forcing the incapacitated Raiden to suffer a clearer view of the lovely liability he had so foolishly come to embrace.

The slab transformed into a serpent of stone, eyes and mouth burning with flame. It coiled and slithered to present the limp body of Y/N to Raiden and Shang Tsung.

"Truly I did not think it possible at first… The God of Thunder, protector of an entire realm, forsaking everything for something so insignificant." Shang Tsung taunted, savoring everything about this moment, still not quite believing it was reality.

Whether out of shame, or the sheer force of the fatal blows rained upon his body, Raiden did not speak. He could only struggle, coughing up blood infused with the light of his divinity as the shapeshifter stepped between he and the body of Y/N, held captive within the stone serpent's coils.

"How sad for Earthrealm that its greatest protector was too busy salivating with licentious desire to notice a trap barely worthy of a parlor magician. I hadn't even the time to properly prepare after your brother so bullishly interrupted our moment of… intimacy."

This caused Raiden to tense with anger, and with a crackle of lightning, he once again attempted to free himself, only to be met with another devastating volley of brimstone and demonic blasts from Shang Tsung.

"Calm yourself, Lord Raiden…" Shang Tsung smirked, "this is truly unbecoming of the lord of the skies. I haven't even claimed her soul…yet. That is something I wanted you to see, personally…"

"NO…!!" Raiden was finally able to force out a single, desperate statement as he watched Shang Tsung conjure threads of green energy that sought out Y/N's soul. The emerald tendrils slipped through her eyes and mouth, shaking her from the death-like state that the sorcerer had forced upon her. With a shuddering gasp, she writhed defiantly within the stone coils, and for the barest moment, the cock-sure smile on Shang Tsung's face faltered.

Before further scrutiny could be given, Shang Tsung was thrown bodily backwards by an incredible gale, striking the serpent with a wet crunch that fractured the stone prison. It crumbled behind him, allowing Y/N to collapse to the ground, freed of her captivity yet still bewildered and blinded in her slow return to consciousness.

"You mock my brother, and yet mirror his shortcomings to a fault, Shang Tsung." Fujin coalesced from the very air, brushing a bit of lingering soot from his body, his clothes clearly singed from his brief time in the Netherrealm's pits.

With a sneer, and not a moment's hesitation, Shang Tsung disappeared in a welt of flames. Soon after his departure, the bone and brimstone spikes that had skewered Raiden through, retracted with horrific shlucking sounds. Fujin ran to his brother, noting the acid burns about his neck and the countless nether blades that had pierced his body. He offered a healing hand as he helped Raiden to his feet. Both the lords of wind and lightning then looked to the stirring mortal as she groaned and placed a shaking hand to her forehead.

"Why do you hesitate, brother?" Fujin inquired in low tones, noting the utter paralysis that seemed to claim Raiden in that moment.

"I am a fool, Fujin… Though I abhor the very being of that duplicitous serpent, his assertions were not inaccurate… I cannot continue in this manner. For the good of Earthrealm, I must abandon this lunacy of the heart."

"Why speak you so, brother? Surely you-"

"Do not question me, Fujin. This is painful enough…"

Fujin looked on in wordless astonishment as Raiden, clearly pining for this woman he had just risked everything to save, disappeared in a flash of light.

Incensed at his brother's uncharacteristic impulsiveness, Fujin stepped over to Y/N and gathered her up in his arms carefully. She keened and cried out, a number of injuries sustained during her ordeal becoming obvious as the wind god cradled her body. As he held the swooning woman, something about her piqued Fujin's senses in a way he couldn't articulate, but the sensation gave him pause as his glowing eyes took in the mortal that had captured his brother's heart.

Fujin and Y/N disappeared in a swirling gale, leaving the damp of the chamber, and ushering in silence once again… Until a swirling vortex of green peeled open within the empty space.

An imposing figure clad in bladed, black leather, and carrying the air of death stepped through, surveying the smoking corpse of Reptile and crumbling serpent altar with an inscrutable expression. His pale white face, and the black and red markings around his eyes and forehead suggested dark magics of the most revolting kind, and he sniffed with a disinterested sort of passivity as he spake into the darkness. "I wouldn't have believed it had I not seen it. The sanctimonious lord of lightning has truly been felled by a mortal woman's heart."

"You think me dishonest, Quan Chi?" Shang Tsung remarked, stepping out from the shadows.

"Perish the thought," he smiled wryly. "Though I see you have failed to acquire her soul as planned, and after I went through all that trouble to distract the wind god."

"A minor oversight," Shang Tsung lied, "I thought it beneficial that she remain whole for what comes next."

Quan Chi was not convinced, though his expression revealed nothing of his internal thoughts. "Very well. She has ingested the tincture, then?"

"Oh yes," smiled the soul stealer, "that much, I ensured…" his tongue deftly traced the interior of his lower lip.

"Then let us not waste any more time, Shang Tsung."

As the two sorcerers commiserated, far in the frozen heights of the Himmaleh, before an imposing circular stone door wreathed with countless vedic carvings, a chill mountain wind delivered two figures.

Leverage - MK11 Self Insert Fiction

Lord Raiden, god of thunder and protector of Earthrealm, has betrayed a fatal weakness; one that the nefarious sorcerer Shang Tsung seeks to capitalize upon. A self-insert fic inspired by Mortal Kombat 11 featuring Cary-Hiroyuki Tagawa as Shang Tsung, and Todd Dakins/Richard Epcar as Lord Raiden.

Characters: Lord Raiden (MK11), Shang Tsung (MK11), Female OC/Self-Insert

Chapter 1: Evening in Nara

It is late afternoon in the ancient Japanese capital of Nara when the clouds begin rolling in. There's a distant rumble of thunder, and in a secluded alley, far from the ancient temples of Todai-ji and Nigatsu-do, a lone tourist walks the stone pathways. It is Y/N, and she has just completed meditation among the blooming irises of one of Nara's oldest public gardens. As the first drops of rain begin to dampen her clothes, she quickens her pace, knowing her hotel is still a decent distance away.

Unbothered by the approaching rain, she smiles briefly at the rumbling storm clouds as one might an old friend. The supple curve of her neck and tilt of her jaw from this motion do not go unnoticed. Unbeknownst to Y/N, numerous eyes had been keeping her in their sights since her arrival. She continued on her way, heedless of the danger that had begun brewing in the shadows of the city, and ignorant of the observations of an old acquaintance.

It is said that the crack and roll of thunder is caused by the beating of numerous taiko drums in the heavens; an invocation and performance by the thunder god himself. He held many names: Indra, Zeus, and Taranis were just a few from across the globe. The Japanese had bestowed the titles of Kaminari, Raijin, and during this degenerate age, many had come to know him as Raiden. In truth, this storm was not his performance, but instead the subconscious apprehension of his heart, given form and sound in the roiling clouds that swept over the mountain peaks.

The thunder deity had been watching Y/N from afar, his eyes filled with an intensity that the approaching storm could not match. His eyes flash, and his grimace intensifies as he watches the woman weave around the primitive utility poles and take advantage of the rain-blocking eaves along her path. He knew her from his brief tenure with the American military during Outworld's previous invasion attempt. While he hadn't worked directly with her, her very presence had impressed him. The unmistakable aura of valor and courage that all of his Order of Light shared, had manifested in her. Though to him, this event seemed as recent as one might consider the life of a single stick of burning incense, Raiden knew for a mortal, it must've seemed ages past. This is why he had cautioned his brother so sincerely against involvement with mortal lives – The spark of interest she had kindled had left an indelible mark on his soul, but time had slipped effortlessly away without him realizing.

When it had come to blows, Fujin had rightfully pointed out his hypocrisy – Liu Kang and Kung Lao may as well have been his children the way that he lavished them with attention. That attention stretched time for him, slowing what should have been a moment, into years of training, camaraderie, and perhaps something akin to paternal love – at least that's what Fujin had alleged through a furious gale of blades. Raiden had called him a fool. In truth, he had been fighting with himself – his brother Fujin simply caught in the conflict. For especially now, such a title rightfully belonged to him.

The sight of her brought him back to that tumultuous argument. His heart ached at the memory, and his hands of flesh and bone tightened into fists. Originally created for the purpose of participating in Mortal Kombat, he had not intended this human body of his to remain for as long as it had. This body of his was simply a tool, he had lied. One that he would discard as soon as its usefulness had expired. That is what he had told himself lifetimes ago… Now this heart of his beat faster as he observed the scene below, his eyes never leaving Y/N's graceful form as she moved through the city.

One other gaze observed these motions with equal intensity, but unlike the distracted attentions of Lord Raiden, this stalking creature was fully aware that his quarry was under careful scrutiny. If he acted without proper caution, the game would be up before it had even begun.

The sorcerer Shang Tsung was never without his contingencies. Never found lacking in ways to slip the grasps of fate. And now as he enjoyed an extended reprieve from the beckoning of his master Shao Kahn, and the incessant meddling of Earthrealm's champion Liu Kang, he had detected an amusing inflection in the humors of the skies. One that, should he apply proper leverage to, might remove the most vexing of obstacles from his plans. Lord Raiden had fallen victim to his own hubris: He was in love.

[bluggluglfgh]

so i found my lost fountain pen

[crushmeeren]

♡ Master List Link

❥ Fem Reader

❥ Warnings; cursing, teasing, dirty talk, praising, soft! dom Tamaki, breeding kink, mentions of pregnancy sex, pussy eating, fingering, vaginal sex

Note; for the lovely anon requester, I super loved writing this, I love Tamaki — the soft dom version of him hits the spot.

Tamaki is, more often than not, tightly wound into a ball of nerves. Not to say he hasn’t gotten any better at being able to handle the reigns of his anxiety, because he certainly has.

It’s just, there’s always a small undercurrent of unease lingering in his belly. Making his pulse thunder, fingers shaking with unrestrained adrenaline each time he gets interviewed after a villain beat down.

He’s ashamed to admit that even when he’s with friends the unsettling sensation remains, albeit minutely. It creeps across the back of his mind, lurking in the shadows at all times.

That is, unless he’s with you, and now, with your baby girl too. Funnily enough, his hands were as steady as they’d ever been when he first held his little girl.

His heart didn’t race, he wasn’t choking to death on butterflies— okay well, those things were happening. Just not in an oh my god the sky is falling type of way. It was in an oh my god I love my family so much I’m gonna throw up scenario.

Tamaki was drowning in his feelings for the two of you, so much so that he definitely did burst into tears.

Tamaki’s sweet little Chiyoko is two years old now, and don’t get him wrong, he’s happy. But fuck — he’d be remiss if he didn’t admit he’s starting to get that itch again. The one that clouds his mind and turns his thoughts into a one track mind of I want a baby, I want a baby, I need to knock her up NOW —

Tamaki just really longs for another little one to raise, someone to teach how to be better than he ever has been. Another person he can completely be himself with, who he’ll love unconditionally. He’ll always strive to give his kids a better world than the one he grew up in.

Although, if he’s being honest, what really severed the pathetically thin thread that was left of his patience was when he came across what must’ve been the 10th pregnant woman while out on patrol today.

All Tamaki could keep picturing was you. With your belly so cute, so swollen and so so round with his baby.

An image involuntarily pops up behind his eyelids. It’s of your pretty face, your lower lip pushed out so sweetly in a pout, tits obscenely spilling over the top of your bra. Tamaki swallows, throat dry as cotton as he works to keep a steady pace while he walks the streets.

His cheeks are burning, a bubblegum pink flush taking over his skin. He can feel the heat crawling up the back of his neck, all the way up to the pointy tips of his ears.

Tamaki frantically pulls the hood of his hero costume further down to obscure his face as his mind sharply turns down a much filthier path.

The vivid image and memory of you riding his cock when you were six months pregnant makes the muscles in his stomach clench in anticipation. He remembers how unbelievably tight your pussy was, how he was able to place his hands possessively on your belly as he gawked at the way you used his cock to make yourself cum.

Fuck, fuck, fuck — he craves the satisfaction of putting another baby into you so badly his balls ache.

His heart stutters when he realizes his cock is rapidly thickening against his inner thigh, hot and full.

Tamaki then urgently speed walks back to his hero agency as if he’s leaving a trail of fire behind him, because he’s pretty sure the stretchy spandex of his hero outfit is not going to hide his humiliating boner.

Later on that evening, after your daughter has fallen asleep, you find yourself with your hands bound to the metal slats of your headboard. A soft, smooth, silky material caressing your skin, and binding your wrists together above your head.

Your skin seems to be stretched too tightly over your bones, entire body flushing white hot as Tamaki traces the pads of fingers feather light over your bare breasts.

You’re both naked now, and he’s been playing with you for what feels like a lifetime. He’s been teasing you relentlessly as his thumbs delicately circle your nipples until they pebble up. Your pussy throbs in response.

“Tama,” you whine lowly, arching your spine as he grips your left tit playfully. You push further into his touch, craving so much more from your husband than he’s giving you. You twitch as his other hand traces your lower belly idly.

“Hm? Is this not enough for you my goddess?” Tamaki teases you with a soft voice, punctuating his words with another rough squeeze to your tit. He makes sure to pinch your nipple in between his fingers this time.

You bends your knees and let your thighs spread open even further to fit his lithe frame as you let out a breathy sigh.

“Fuck no, it’s not enough Tamaki,” you complain, irritation lacing your voice as you strain against the silk that ties you down. Goosebumps litter your arms when rests his warm palms over the bumps of your ribs, fingers splaying out just under the swell of your tits.

“No? My, that’s a bit bratty of you,” He reprimands, warm breath tickling over your skin as he presses a kiss to your sternum.

“Baby,” you say, asking for his attention. You tilt your head down to stare at him with wide eyes. “Please I want your mouth so bad.”

Slender fingers dig into your ribs, forcing a squeak out of you as it tickles you. Tamaki only hums, pressing a line of kisses down your soft belly, lowering himself onto his own as he makes his way to your pussy.

“Here?” Tamaki asks innocently before he kisses the sensitive area of your hip bone, sucking on the skin a little. Your hips twitch, trying to move his head to your pussy — which is starting to ache, puffy and slick from being so turned on.

“No,” you whimper, fingers curling into fists, nails digging into the flesh of your palms where you’re still tied up. Tamaki places his hands on the underside of your thighs, easily pushing them open further for him.

“Oh, so you must mean here?” He giggles, dipping his head to kiss the inner part of your thigh, close to the seam that connects to your groin. He nips at the skin there sharply, making you gasp.

“You know that’s not it Tamaki,” you huff, wiggling in place, frustratedly tugging at the silk yet again. Your shoulders start to ache and you have the insanely strong urge to tangle your fingers in his soft, purple hair.

Taking action, you maneuver your legs until you can rest your thighs over his shoulders, heels ready to dig into his upper back. He instinctively wraps an arm around your thigh.

He uses the other hand to brush his fingers through the small patch of curly hair you left above your clit. His cock twitches looking at it because it’s basically a neon sign pointing him straight down to your pretty pussy.

“I’m not quite sure what you want then baby,” Tamaki sighs, pretending to be disappointed. “Ya know, only good girls get what they ask for. You should use your words better, don’t you think?” He remarks thoughtfully, pinching your clit between his thumb and fore finger, trying to bite back his smile. One of his canines pokes out over his bottom lip.

“Tamaki!” You hiss, pressing upwards towards his mouth. The hero wraps both his arms around your thighs, halting your movement completely. “Fucking—Tamaki, please baby, I want you to eat my pussy,” you reluctantly beg, teeth grinding together in frustration.

“Oh! I see, why didn’t you just ask me in the first place? Such a good girl though, using your words,” Tamaki replies happily, brushing his warm lips over your clit when he speaks, and you could strangle the man right now.

His slick tongue is so close to your clit you have the urge to rip apart the silk tie and shove his face into you.

“Tamaki I swear, if you don’t — oh,” Your complaint is cut short. Your jaw falls open, fists clenching tightly when your husband’s tongue finally parts the lips of your pussy. Leisurely, he swirls circles into your clit, forcing a rush of warm shivers down your spine as he kitten licks at you.

“Oh my god Tamaki,” you keen, voice thick with pleasure. “Please don’t stop,” you plead, thighs threatening to suffocate him as you cross your ankles over his back.

He rewards you by sucking your clit between his lips, flicking his tongue up and down occasionally. He teased you for so long before that you’re already starting to feel an ominous knot tighten up behind your navel.

“Tama I wanna, oh!” Your breath hitches. “Fingers, want your fingers in my pussy, please!” You blurt urgently, tugging painfully at your restraints.

You squeeze your eyes shut when Tamaki hums, smoothly freeing himself from one of your thighs.

With no resistance, he slips his two middle fingers inside, stretching you just the way you needed him to. He thrusts and curls his fingers at a steady pace, never letting up the suction on your clit. His tongue teasing just under the hood and turning you in a pile of mush.

“Just like that, Tamaki please, I wanna cum,” you say desperately, tilting your head to look at him again and meeting his gaze. His eyes are half lidded, pale skin flushed. He’s so pretty it physically hurts.

The knot of your orgasm tightens frighteningly fast. Not to mention, just the sight of Tamaki between your legs is overwhelming.

The base of your skull digs into your pillow as the water balloon pops, your orgasm gushing through your limbs like heated honey.

Your mouth opens in a silent o shape as your entire body goes taught. Your back arches off the bed, pussy acting as a vice while you cum around Tamaki’s fingers. He makes sure to move fluidly with your hips as you roll them against his mouth.

Your husband pulls his mouth off your over sensitive clit with a pop, fingers still fucking the life out of you.

“Look at you, such a good girl, cumming on my fingers so sweetly,” Tamaki coos. His pink tongue pokes out to lick his shiny lips, moaning huskily at the taste.

After a few seconds, your body begins to melt back into into the mattress below. Your thighs releasing the death grip on his head. Your chest heaves as you catch your breath, watching Tamaki push himself up with one hand, settling back on his haunches as he slides his fingers free.

“You’re too good at that,” you laugh, chancing a peak at your husband’s hard, leaking cock.

He’s got such a pretty dick. He’s thick and pale, sticking straight out, a pale pink at the tip. It twitches a few times under your praise, precum making the tip shiny. Saliva gathers in your mouth as you imagine licking him clean and swallowing him whole.

Tamaki smiles shyly down at you like he’s read your mind. To distract you, he rolls his thumb over your puffy clit, making you wince.

“I know you want to suck my cock, but I need to be inside you baby. Want me to untie your hands?” He asks lovingly, running the knuckles of his clean hand over your cheek. You nod, humming softly.

“Please,” you laugh, tugging on the silk for emphasis. He chuckles gently in return, leaning over to untie your wrists.

As he does, the warm, spongy tip of his cock glides through the mess he’s made of your pussy. Massaging your clit, and making you both moan. The weight of his cock making you feverish.

Tamaki’s eyes are intense as they stare into yours. He lets you free, hands hovering nearing your face. You pause, flexing your fingers, allowing the blood to flow through your veins. You can feel the tension smoldering deliciously between you both, about to blaze.

Hands plant themselves on either side of your head, and then Tamaki’s suddenly smashing his against yours. He tilts his head to the side as his lips meet yours over and over.

Your fingers finally weave through his soft hair, tugging on it roughly. He lets his sharp canines catch on your bottom lip in return, easily swallowing the moans he’s dragging out of you.

Tamaki breaks the kiss, sitting back on his heels. Your hands fall limply to your sides when he moves away. He places his palms on your inner thighs, pushing them wide open. You let out a sound of protest, lower lip jutting out. He bites the tip of his tongue, looking amused.

“Don’t pout my queen, I know what your pussy really wants,” he says, lightly slapping your clit. You jolt in surprise, fingers fisting the soft material of the sheets.

“Yeah — okay, please fuck me,” you agree, feeling sweat bead up in the hollow of your throat.

“I’m gonna stuff you to the brim princess,” Tamaki says, voice airy but eager. He uses one hand to keep you spread, the other gripping the base of his shaft as he pushes the tip of his cock inside you His jaw clenches at just how tight, how perfect you are.

“I know Tama, c’mon, I want to make you a daddy again,” you urge him, wolfish grin pulling at your lips. Tamaki pauses, blinking at you in surprise with a rapidly forming blush. Said man raises an eyebrow, slipping the rest of his cock in without any warning. It punches a strangled sound from your lungs as you grip your pillow for leverage.

“My queen’s got a filthy mouth,” Tamaki croons, hooking your knees over his elbows — effectively folding you into a pretzel as leans forward, hands braced by your shoulders this time. “It’s hot,” he giggles. The glare you level him with holds no heat behind it.

He wiggles his eyebrows as he pulls his hips backwards halfway, before thrusting forward smoothly and filling you completely. You grip his shoulders, head falling backwards into the mattress. His cock is so so good.

“You feel amazing,” you tell him with a moan. The glide of his cock inside you is fucking perfect every time, splitting you open just the way you love.

“Yeah? Your pussy fits me like a glove princess, it drives me crazy,” Tamaki pants, warm breath ghosting over your face. He’s drinking up your reactions as if he’s never had a drop of water in his life.

“Mmhmm,” you whimper, hanging onto his muscled forearms now. “Harder,” you tell him, your face scrunching up as your eyes flutter shut. All you can focus on is the way he slides in and out of you, carving out a space for himself.

“Yes baby, you take me so well. You’re so pretty like this,” Tamaki praises low and smooth like butter. He gives you what you want, curling hips up slightly so he can hit your g-spot spot dead on.

Your nails create crescent shapes in his forearms, spine rising off the bed as much as you can in this folded position. Your blood is buzzing, eyes rolling so far back into your skull you’re afraid they’ll get stuck.

“Tamaki!” You sob. “I can — oh my god, feels like you’re in my guts.” Your legs flex over his elbows, his strength keeping you pinned however he chooses.

“It’s called a mating press for a reason baby,” Tamaki huffs a laugh, his eyebrows pinching together as the sound of his pelvis smacking your ass pushes him closer to the edge.

Tamaki makes you cum this way multiple times. Enough to make you see stars, hearing going fuzzy as you notice your hips start to ache. Then you’re begging him to cum inside you— making his cock jerk excitedly.

“I can’t believe I’m lucky enough to see you cum on my cock like this princess,” he says, as if in awe of the very sight of you.

Tamaki knows he’s not going to last much longer as he starts throbbing repeatedly, the way you’re suffocating him makes his brain mushy.

“Tamaki,” you murmur, hands reaching up to frame his face. “Cum inside me,” you demand, bringing his face down to kiss his jaw.

“I can’t wait to see your belly stretched with my baby again, you’re such a good mama,” he coos softly, turning his head so you can kiss his neck. You lick a stripe up his neck, tasting the salty sweat there and he groans. “Fuck, m’gonna cum, you’re made to take my cock, made to give me babies,” Tamaki babbles, thrusting shallow and desperate.

The tiny, rhythmic squeezes of your pussy are enough to push him over the edge, because suddenly he’s shoving his cock inside you entirely. The curly, coarse hair at his base tickling your skin.

Tamaki’s cock twitches relentlessly, stuffing you with small thrusts until he’s sucking in air through his teeth when he gets overstimulated.

You wrap your arms around his shoulders, hugging him to your chest as Tamaki drops your legs. You sigh in relief, feet tingling as you crack your toes. The two of you catch your breath for a moment, hearts thundering.

Eventually, your husband rises, forcing you to drop your hands to the bed once again. He runs his tongue over his bottom lip as he pulls out of you slowly, admiring the sticky, white cum coating his cock.

He groans as he tracks the way his cum trails out of you. Before he can think better of it he drags a thumb over your pussy, gathering a bit of it and wrapping his lips around his thumb to suck it off.

“Tamaki!” You gasp, mildly scandalized and cheeks burning furiously from the nasty sight.

“I wanted a taste,” he says nonchalantly, pulling his thumb from his mouth with a wet pop.

A startled laugh slips from your lips and then Tamaki is infected with it, laughing along with you. You both giggle as he lays down on his side, facing you. He places a hand on your belly and you intertwine your fingers with his, resting your hands on your sternum.

“You’re lucky we didn’t wake up Chiyoko,” you scold him, halfhearted in your attempt. He just smiles, eyes shining as he laughs.

“I would’ve put her back to bed,” Tamaki appeases, squeezing your hand playfully. You hum, content enough with his answer to relax and enjoy the post orgasm glow.

“I can’t wait to be pregnant again,” you admit in a hushed voice, eyes fluttering shut.

“You’ll be just as beautiful as you always are,” Tamaki whispers so sweetly it’s tooth rotting.

The two of you bask in each others company for a bit longer, daydreaming about the baby you hope you’ve just you created before you do anything else.

[virtueofsanityx]

perhaps it's a testament to the raw emotion of the moment that, in a laugh that chokes out like a sob, reggie's tears turn to some kind of manic humor. because this, all of this, is so perfect and warm and comforting. the way dmitri wraps him up in his arms and holds him, the way fingers thread though hair that he's let go curly instead of trying to style to hell and back to flatten it out, the way his body presses against the other man for more contact, fingers curl into the back of his shirt to hold him there for longer, face disappears against the warm shoulder under it.

what an easy thing it would be to simply kiss that shoulder, to twist his head and find a soft spot on his neck to press his lips to, to pull back and finally kiss the big, dumb oaf on the mouth and get all of this over with.

but he's started to cry and that feels like the wrong time to do that. if he ever finds courage enough to kiss this man, he wants to do it in a way that's so romantic that dmitri can't help but feel his toes curl and his heart hammer the way reggie's is now, probably so hard that the other man can feel it thundering against his chest like a rocket. his joke is almost too perfectly timed, and another one of those manic little giggles slips out of him. "god, you're dumb sometimes." eyes close, and he presses further into that hug, holds the man longer, leans into every touch.

he's gonna end up with a serious problem if dmitri keeps grabbing his hair and his waist, sliding his hands all around his body like a playground. but god, does reggie wish he was doing it without this stupid apron, this stupid shirt, these stupid pants...

head shaking as he tries to clear the errant thoughts, he simply clears his throat, reaches up to scrub at his face when dmitri's hands are gone. "i'm good. i'm fine." he doesn't have to be and he knows that. but he is, because this is a mess of his own making. "you didn't make me cry. i made me cry. you know how i am, man. i get into my head, i think too much, i freak out over everything. i didn't have a lot of friends growing up, now i think we both know why." his laugh, self deprecating and shaky, is weak as he blows out a breath. "i'm sorry." he says again, for lack of something else to say.

he still feels like he's ruined the night, but he doesn't move from the kitchen, instead, finally forcing himself to look at dmitri, head on, in the eye. "you-- he isn't a weird ass guy, by the way." it would be so easy to just say it, to just lay it all out now. the warmth of that hug, as well as the flush on his cheeks, still linger, and his eyes roam a wall of hard muscle hidden far too much by clothing before he shrugs and meets those warm eyes again. "he's kind of...." coward. weak. loser. "you're kind of great."

not a confession. but close. ripping off a bandaid, chickening out at the last second. running into burning buildings is far easier than this.

Dmitri was completely blindsided when Reggie's voice, thick with unshed tears, broke into heartfelt apologies. Everything came so completely out of the blue, and Reggie's voice was so raw with emotion, that Dmitri dropped his tools and immediately did a double take at him. He has no idea what Reggie could possibly be sorry for, though he patiently listens as he friend poured out those feelings.

Ruined the night?

"Reg," Dmitri began, a nervous chuckle bubbling up in his chest, "What're you...." The words caught in his throat. What in the ever living fuck was Reggie talking about? Dmitri couldn't process the quivering emotion in Reggie's voice, the suddenness of it all. And the thought of Reggie leaving him here alone tonight… filled him with the coldest dread.

That’s when his friend turns to face him, lips parting to spill more fragmented nonsense. Dmitri's growing pretty desperate for clarity, but Reggie keeps his gaze fixed downward, avoiding eye contact, though the flushed pink in his cheeks gives him away. He’s either on the verge of crying or already there. Dmitri’s heart stops and stutters------ then it races, pounding with a nervous energy far beyond what his mind can process. What could Reggie possibly mean?

"Hey, man… c’mere." Dmitri softens his voice, closing the distance between them in a few quick steps. His strong arms encircle Reggie’s shoulders, intending a brief, casual hug between two bros. But what starts as a simple gesture lingers, stretches----- because Dmitri doesn’t want to let go. There’s something grounding in the closeness; the scent of Reggie’s shampoo, the smooth warmth of his neck brushing against Dmitri’s scruff, the steady rise and fall of his chest pressed right into his own. It’s unfairly comforting. The tension that had gripped Dmitri earlier simply just melts, replaced by something far gentler.

Reggie wasn’t his. Not really. But in a way, he was----- as much as a close friend could be. And for Dmitri, that was everything. He’d take whatever Reggie was willing to give, no matter how unsteady it left him, because the bond between them had already unraveled any pretense of sanity he might’ve held.

His fingers move without thought, threading through Reggie’s hair, massaging his scalp, cradling his head against his shoulder. In the quiet, Dmitri finally finds room to think. He realizes what might’ve brought them here: while Dmitri saw confrontation as a way to clear the air and get back to being on the same page, others, like perhaps Reggie, might not. Not everyone was a fighter. Some took even the slightest conflict personally, mistaking it for rejection. And that? That just wasn’t true. Not for Reggie. Not in Dmitri’s heart.

When he pulls back, it’s to get a proper look at Reggie’s face------ and that’s when he sees the faint shimmer of tears caught on long, elegant lashes. Gently, Dmitri brushes a stray tear from Reggie’s cheek with the roughened pad of his thumb. His expression folds into worry, his voice quiet and rasped with care.

"...I made you cry?"

His dark eyes search Reggie’s, desperate for answers. Confusion twists with fear, because if Reggie thought their friendship might crumble under whatever weight he was carrying, then Dmitri was failing him. All he wanted to do was kiss away the tears, feel the warmth of Reggie’s blush beneath his tongue, and reassure him all soft and sweetly.

"I’m not ending our friendship just ‘cuz you got a crush on some weird ass guy you don’t wanna talk about," Dmitri offers, a very small attempt at humor slipping into his raw, uncertain tone. His large hands drop to the slender muscle of Reggie’s waist, holding him there a moment before sliding around to untie the knot of his apron with careful, deliberate motions. "Why don’t you go curl up by the fire and let me finish up in here?"

It feels like Reggie needs space, to cry, to let whatever he’s carrying out, and Dmitri wants to give that to him. But the uncertainty gnaws at him. Does Reggie want him there? Or would he rather be alone? Dmitri doesn’t know.

The Dmitri of the past wouldn’t have cared. Hell, he probably would’ve laughed at the sight of another man crying. But after a few good coaches (and some brutally honest friends) stepped in and told him to cut the overly macho bullshit and get his head on straight, Dmitri had pushed himself to do the necessary inner work. The process hadn’t been easy, but it'd made him a better man, more attuned to the emotions of those around him. And yet, fear still lingered there... the fear that, despite his growth, he might still hurt the people he cared about most.

Right now, his heart pounds with that fear. What if Reggie ran? Out into the snowstorm, away from this place Dmitri cherished most in the world? The thought settles like a heavy stone in his chest. He doesn’t want to lose him---- not to the storm, not to fear, not to misunderstanding. Sheer desperation is in his eyes, silently pleading for Reggie to stay.

But Dmitri can’t bring himself to say it aloud.

[flowersforjude]

𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐃𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐊𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐀𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐔𝐬

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 | Harwin Strong x Fem Targaryen!Reader 

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | A stolen morning spent with Ser Harwin.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 2,036

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | Sneaking around, slightly suggestive in some parts?, there’s always gotta be a little angst, but also fluff!

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 | How has it taken me this long to notice how good this man is? It’s disgraceful really. @criminalamnesia has something similar to this so go check it out!

masterlist

A soft breeze was blowing through the open window of your chambers. Early morning light threaded through the thin curtains billowing in the gentle wind. You shifted slightly in bed, throwing an arm over your face to combat the sunlight. Sleep beckoned you back into its waiting embrace. 

The gods were cruel, however. Or, sweet, you really couldn’t decide. 

“Good morning.” A languid voice rumbles in greeting. Harwin trailed a hand up your bare shoulder, his delicate touch leaving chills in their wake. 

“Hmm,” you returned, willing your eyes to stay closed. If you even cracked them open a bit, there’d be no going back to sleep. You drew closer to his chest, pressing your face into the sheet that covered him. His extra warmth quickly pulled you back to slumber. Almost. 

Your lover, however, had different ideas. His hand on your shoulder roamed down your back, sliding under the thick cover you’d hoarded in the night. His touch was still gentle as he took to running his fingers up and down your spine. Hitting the ticklish spot right above your tailbone every time they wander lower. 

Face still hidden in his chest, you bit your lip to keep from giggling. He was relentless, though. Dragging his hand down once again, he allowed himself a generous feel of your rear. 

“Harwin!” You exclaimed, shooting your head up to meet his grinning face. 

“Good morning.” He said again, pulling you closer to him. He nudged your head to tilt up higher so he could press kisses to the underside of your jaw. 

Sighing, whether from pleasure or annoyance, no one knows. You tangle your fingers in his dark hair. “It is early.” You grumble as he moves lower to your neck. His lips were heavy against your skin. 

“Actually, Princess.” He replied, his hand going to your hair to angle your neck to be more open to him. “It's almost time for me to leave.” 

Truthfully, it was like this almost every morning you and Harwin spent together. Quiet spoken words, warm carasses, and sometimes a reenactment of the night before if there was time. The gods were surely used to the sight of you two tangled together in your bed, with the door to your chambers locked. It was moments like this that sustained you, both of you. Stolen from the rest of the kingdom, they were, but precious all the same. Something that was reserved just for the two of you without having to care about the rest of the people around you. 

“You don’t have to go.” You said casually, knowing deep down that wasn’t true. He always had to leave. Sneak out in the earliest hours of the morning to protect your secret. 

Eyes finally meeting his, you smiled sadly at him. Harwin returned it with a slightly more lighthearted one. He always tried to keep your spirits high in times like this. When the clock was ticking too fast for either of your comforts, racing against you for him to depart. 

“I do,” he countered. “I cannot be discovered here, or I’d lose my head. I’d lose you.” 

You rolled your eyes at his sentiment, but placed a kiss on his jaw. Telling him you knew, of course you did. He hummed as your lips met his skin. A deep thunder-like sound that never fails to send a thrill of excitement through you. “You’re forgetting the power I hold, my love. I’d talk my father down to a finger, perhaps. Unless he was having a bad day, then you’d be short of a hand.” You beamed up at him. 

“I trust your negotiation skills fully, Princess.” His fingers, still tangled in your hair, dug deeper, running his digits through the tresses of silver. 

You fought your eyes from dropping shut, his touch soothing your mind back to sleepiness. The cloak of dreams was very much welcome, but that was a disaster that needed to be avoided. You’d go to sleep, and Harwin would follow suit, and you’d be caught. Or you’d fall back asleep, and he’d leave without waking you. 

He’d done that only once before. Slipping out of your chambers without rousing you to say goodbye. You had been so angry at him for stealing your chance to see him off, for depriving you of one last kiss that you’d threatened to feed him to your dragon if he did it again. You would never actually do that, but your tongue was talented at running away from you when angry. And Harwin knew that, so you were always worried he’d escape like that again. 

One night, while tangled together after blissful pleasure, he’d admitted he tried to lure you back to sleep many times before with the soul intention of leaving once you were. An angry retort had been ready before he continued to say it was because he loathed seeing how crestfallen you looked when he had to part from you. He hated watching your giddy mood dissipate and be replaced by sadness. He would much rather prefer gazing at your peaceful expression as you sleep before leaving. 

You were quick to tell him your dark emotions were never aimed for him. Rather, they were reserved for the entire circumstances you both found yourselves in. Being so entirely enamored by each other but forced to hide your affections. 

You could not wed until Rhaenyra did. It would look unfavorably upon the heir if her younger sister took a husband before she did. So, while you loved Rhaenyra with your whole heart and would never wish to see her tapped in a marriage she did not want, you wished she would hurry up and choose someone. 

“Where are you posted today?” You asked, rolling yourself over so you sat atop him. The blankets pooled around your waist, so your naked chest was on full display for him. You saw him glance and then look away in the same second. Trying to remind himself that there was no time for that this morning. 

He cleared his throat before answering you. “I’ll be training new recruits in the yard for most of the day.” 

You grinned at him while scratching your nails lightly down his chest. “I suppose I’ll have to wander by the training yard then.” You said coyly. “Many times.”

“I suppose I’ll just have to try harder to remain focused with the beautiful princess passing through so often.” His arm came to loop around your waist, pulling you a little higher on his lap. His fingers smoothed over your hips as he watched you raise your arms above your head, stretching the tiredness from them. 

“I should speak with my father about taking you as my sworn sword.” You told him. “I’ve been thinking about it for some time now.” 

“You wish to be accompanied by me every day?” He questioned, sitting up while still holding you to him. 

Confusion colored your expression. “Do you not wish for it?” 

“That is not the issue,” he said. “If the King happens to agree, you will not be able to request a different guard simply because you’re crossed with me.” He flashed a bright smile at you. 

“I only did that once,” you protested. 

He laughed then, a hearty sound that you’d grown to adore. “Because I forgot the strawberry pastries you requested before I came to your chamber that night.” 

“I was looking forward to them.” You grumbled, ducking your head down. “And in any case, I came to regret that decision very quickly. Ser Brune was dreadfully boring.” 

Harwin laughed again, and moved your head up to look at him. “Speak with the King, love. If he agrees, then I’d happily spend the rest of my days never leaving your side.” 

Before you could say anything in return, he wound his arms around you, pulling you to lay on him as he sank back into the bed. Both his arms stayed wrapped around you, successfully holding you to him. Letting your head fall to the crook of his neck, you sighed contently. 

“And if he does not, then we’ll just have to hasten your sister along in her search for a husband.” He spoke, his deep voice rumbling through his chest. “So then we would finally be allowed to wed.” 

“Rhyeanra will likely remain unwed for the rest of her days.” You sighed. “I don’t think there will be a match waiting in the wings anytime soon.” 

“I’m sure you could…persuade her. You can be quite terrifying when it suits you, Princess.”

Gasping as if offended, you shift to meet his eyes. “You are unbearable.” You accused, leaning down towards his face. Your silver hair concealed you both from the outside world and the bothersome sun. 

“Am I now?” He asked with a smirk, brushing his nose along yours. 

“Terribly so.” You teased before leaning the rest of the way down and capturing his lips. 

Sweetness erupted behind your lips just as it did every time you kissed him. The intoxicating feeling lasted all of a few seconds before an alarming knock came from the door. 

The frantic knock was accompanied by your handmaiden’s worried voice. “Princess! Are you awake?” She called from outside. 

You quickly sat up, taking the sheets to cover your very naked body, before looking down at Harwin, who was also very naked. In your bed.

“Princess, are you in there?” Your handmaiden spoke again. The concern was raised in her voice. You could only imagine how the situation looked. Your door locked, you not answering, and no guard in sight outside your chambers. She was likely thinking the worst. 

You tossed the sheet at Harwin, rushing over to your wardrobe to yank out a nightgown. As you pulled the garment over your head, he rose and began hastily collecting his clothes and armor strewn across the floor from the night before. 

“Yes, Seanna!” You called to your handmaiden, helping Harwin haphazardly button his shirt.  

“You must go.” You urged while he attempted to place his armor on without fastening anything. 

“This damn, I am trying.” He muttered, nearly tripping over his boots, still on the floor in his haste. You cringed as his bracer slid from his arm, almost clattering to the stone floor. He caught it just as it fell, though. 

“Princess, are you alright?” Seanna asked, knocking on the door once again. 

“Yes, just a moment.” You yelled, trying to mask the nervousness in your voice. You gathered his boots and remaining armor as you herded him to the secret passageway hidden in the wall behind your dressing screen. Jerking the concealed door open, you all but pushed Harwin in. 

Shoving his armor and boots into his arms, you noticed the wide smile he was directing at you. “Yes?” You questioned disbelievingly.

“You seem a little nervous, love.” 

Pushing his shoulders to urge him on, you rolled your eyes at his audacity. “Just go!” You chastise him with a traitorous laugh sounding behind your words. 

He chuckled while surging forward to press a lingering kiss to your lips. With that, he turned and disappeared into the shadows of the passage. You quickly put the door to rights and readjusted the dressing screen. Running a hand through your hair, you finally open your door for your handmaiden. 

She all but rushed into the room. “I was starting to think the worst, your Highness.” She got to her duties right away. Going to the wardrobe to retrieve a dress for the day. “Who was meant to be on guard last night, Princess? There was no one outside.” 

“There wasn’t?” You asked in mock surprise. 

“Yes, Princess.” Seanna looked at you skeptically. 

“Oh!” You exclaimed as if you just remembered something. “Ser Harwin was on duty last night. I’m sure they are just doing shift chances early this morning.” 

“I’m sure.” Your handmaiden agreed with more skepticism. She was good enough to let the matter drop, though. 

Once she is done putting your hair into a braided style, she helps pull your dress over your undergarments. Stringing a necklace around your neck, she smirks at you in the mirror. 

“His cloak is under your bed, your Highness.”

Expect a lot more of this man from me. He's on my list now!

[munsonsmixtapes]

Virgin!Eddie X Experienced!reader where Eddie has a wet dream for the first time and calls (reader) for a little bit of help 🤭

Ooh, yes! Thanks so much for the request, lovely!

virgin!Eddie x experienced!reader

cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v) Eddie receives a handjob

Rain pattered against Eddie’s trailer as he tossed and turn in his sleep. His thoughts were filled with nothing but you and he could stop seeing your naked body and the way your back arched in pleasure as he pounded into you. Your hands leaving bright red scratches down his back as you screamed his name as he said the most filthy things in your ear.

He jolted away at a loud clap of thunder and checked to see that he had in fact had a wet dream about you. He had dreamed about you so many times, but he was always able to care of it. But tonight, he didn’t want to. He wanted you to do the job for him. He wanted more company tonight than just his hands.

Eddie turned onto his side to face his bedside table and stared at his phone, contemplating giving you a call, but it was three in the morning so he was sure that you were asleep. He was desperate, but not enough to bother you while you were sleeping.

Maybe he could text you. That wouldn’t be too disruptive, right? He was just going to text you and if you didn’t reply, he was just going to have to rely on his stupid hand to get the job done. But the thing about his hand was that it wasn’t pretty and didn’t compliment him when he made a sound that was particularly hot. And his hand didn’t snuggle him after the show was over, telling him what a good job he has done.

Eddie reached over and grabbed his phone and opened up the text thread he had with you before going through your conversation before debating if he was actually going to say something. Before he could stop himself, he quickly typed out something before throwing his phone across the room.

Are you awake?

He got up onto his knees as if he could see the screen from there and felt his heart race in his chest as he waited for a reply. God, why did he do that? He should have just left it alone.

His phone pinged and he launched himself across the bed into the floor, flipping the phone over to see that you had replied.

never thought I’d get a you up text from you

What’s up?

My dick, he thought, but he thought that was too to the point.

Can I come over?

There was no way that he was going to fuck you with Wayne being in the other room, so your apartment was going to have to work.

You replied instantly.

You don’t have to ask, handsome! That’s why I gave you the key, remember? 😉

He honestly couldn’t believe that you had trusted him enough with a key to your apartment. Sure, you had been at this for months, but he didn’t think that your relationship (if you could even call it that) was at that stage. But still, he took the key found himself staring at it from time to time, knowing that you’d let him come over any time he wanted.

You had given Eddie the key months ago and this was going to be the first time he actually used it. His excuse was that he didn’t want to potentially walk in you while changing but you both knew that you couldn’t have cared less. His real reason was that a key was a big step in any relationship, and he wasn’t sure what ever was going on between the two of you, but he liked it. And he was trying to convince himself that he didn’t want your relationship to progress just because he was sure that you didn’t want it to. He knew for a fact that if you asked him to be your boyfriend, he would have jumped at the chance.

Eddie threw on his shoes out the way out the door and raced across town to get to your apartment. He had memorized the way, no longer needing his phone to get him there since he had come over so often.He had never come over so early in the morning, though, and he was grateful for the lack of people on the road so he could get to you sooner.

Eddie pulled up to your building and the elevator ride to your floor was agonizingly long as it slowly took him up to your floor. Once there, he got to your door and unlocked it, letting himself in.

The place was in a bit more disarray than usual with a few dishes in the sink and appliances that took over the counter that were usually neatly tucked away. But that didn’t surprise him since you didn’t really have much time to clean up. And Eddie didn’t think he could talk because he could barely see the floor in his own room.

He moved through your apartment and knocked on your door which you opened in a flash. You let him inside and he couldn’t take his eyes off of the baby pink silk lingerie nightgown that showed off your body very nicely.

“Hi,” you greeted him with that pretty smile and he thought he could just melt right there where he was standing. Seeing you in that outfit, he really was going to need all the help he could get.

“Hi,” he nodded and stepped towards you, his hands, gripping your waist, pulling you to him. “This is a nice little number.”

“Really? You like it?” Were you kidding? Eddie swore he was going to cum right there just by looking at you. The dress stopped right at the middle of your thighs and the cups of the top were always sheer and he could see how hard your nipples were. It was driving him mad that you both weren’t already naked.

“Fucking love it. You’re so hot it’s unfair.” Eddie was really good at compliments. He somehow always knew exactly what you wanted to hear and never failed to tell you how much he liked the way you looked. He was just so sweet and you really wished you could have him b

“You’re hotter,” you told him, your hand moving up so you could twirl some of his hair around your pointer finger.

“Impossible. There’s no competition,” he leaned forward so that his lips were right by your ear. “But if there was, you’d win hands down,” he whispered before bringing your earlobe between his teeth and giving it a soft bite before pressing his lips to your jaw. He pressed open mouthed kisses to your skin until he got to your lips, pulling you in for a bruising one.

It was messy, teeth and tongues getting in the way, but you eventually figured it out, your lips slotting together like two perfect puzzle pieces. Your hands gripped his jaw roughly as you moved his head, trying to get more of him, beginning him to open his mouth as your tongue swiped along his bottom lip.

He opened up and you slide your tongue into his mouth, letting the muscle swirl around his as you both moaned in pleasure at the feeling. You felt Eddie’s boner against your stomach and pushed down his pajamas pants and underwear, giving you a full view of his cock.

“God, I need you so bad,” he whined and you shushed him, trying to get him to calm down.

“It’s okay,” you assured him. “Don’t worry, I’m going to take care of you.” You reached for some lube and covered your hand in the stuff before giving his length a few slow pumps, causing him to let out a loud moan, as if it was a sigh of relief.

“God, feels so good.” His fingers dug into your hips as he threw his head back, shutting his eyes tight as euphoria coursed through him.

Eddie’s hands slide down and pushed up your dress to remove your underwear only to find that you weren’t wearing anything.

“You’re not wearing any underwear,” he told you and you bit your bottom lips as you looked up at him through your lashes.

“Thought it’d skip a step.”

Well, that was very nice of you.”

You continued to move your hand back and forth, picking up the pace as you did so, wanting him to feel as good as you had a few nights ago. Once he had reached his climax, you removed your hand and you pushed him down onto the bed before reaching into the pockets of his jeans before pulling out a condom. You ripped open the packet before rolling the thing onto his dick.

You then climbed onto top of him and settled yourself onto his cock, both of you moaning at the sensation as you did so. Out of all the times you and Eddie had hooked up, he had always been on top, but this time, you felt like you owed it to him to let him be on the bottom. You took no time and bucked your hips into his, grabbing onto his shoulders so you’d have more control.

“Fuck, so good, baby,” he whined and you couldn’t stop thinking about hot he looked underneath you, his hair splayed out onto the mattress. His lips so pretty and pink and kiss bitten. His eyes shut as he made the prettiest sounds, it was all so euphoric.

“You like that?” You asked, moving the hardest and fastest that you could and he came completely undone underneath you, his hands scratching up and down your back, leaving bright red marks.

“God, love it, baby. Could let you ride me all night.” You could definitely make that happen, especially since he was being so sweet and complimentary.

“Oh, I intend to.” You continued to move at the same speed and you both moaned and whined and whimpered at every little move, being nothing but vocal about how much you were enjoying your time together.

If you were being honest, Eddie could have been the only man you ever fucked for the rest of your life and would have been content. You’d never tell him, but you’d hadn’t even slept with anyone else since that night at there club and you were going to continue to hook up with him until he got bored of you. They always got bored of you.

After riding him for what felt like forever, you both climaxed and did the proper things to clean up before climbing into your bed, snuggling up in each other’s arms, your naked bodies pressed together.

You stared at Eddie as you stroked his hair, wondering why he always came back. Most people would have kicked you to the curb by then, but it seemed like the never got tired of you. He was such a gentleman and you couldn’t believe that he had given you the honor of taking his virginity in that club all those months ago.

[apoemaday]

Shadows

by Mary Oliver

Everyone knows the great energies running amok cast terrible shadows, that each of the so-called senseless acts has its thread looping back through the world and into a human heart. And meanwhile the gold-trimmed thunder wanders the sky; the river may be filling the cellars of the sleeping town. Cyclone, fire, and their merry cousins bring us to grief — but these are the hours with the old wooden-god faces; we lift them to our shoulders like so many black coffins, we continue walking into the future. I don’t mean there are no bodies in the river, or bones broken by the wind. I mean everyone who has heard the lethal train-roar of the tornado swears there was no mention ever of any person, or reason — I mean the waters rise without any plot upon history, or even geography. Whatever power of the earth rampages, we turn to it dazed but anonymous eyes; whatever the name of the catastrophe, it is never the opposite of love.

[wooziorgans]

Have you ever sit by yourself and thought about being in a dark room with your boyfriend!Jihoon, the corner in which the bed is placed near the window which is transparent showing the downpour outside, him on the bed and you on his lap, cuddling in the chill weather, your head in his shoulder while he is caressing your back, his little signs and whimpers when you kiss his sweet spots, sucks on them being totally drunk on his smell and touch, him looking down his hand reaching to hold your chin and plant a firm peak on your lips, your one hand automatically grabbing his short hair as the kiss deepens while he is slowly leaning forward make you lay on the bed, the thunder strikes making the rain more fast, while you and him were in your own world of love.....

Had this in my head since monsoon started, I love rain romance🤭💗 what about you?

— downpour

ohhhhh my god YES. god i feel like hes so fucking clingy and responsive when hes tired, especially if its raining because the atmosphere of the fog outside and the soft thump of it against the window just,,,, ohhh lord.

also i think he whimpers! i think he whimpers and i am willing to fight ppl on this. have u heard his little woozi noises? he definitely whimpers, especially when he’s sensitive and he’s the most sensitive when you’re all up in his shit, kissing and biting at his neck ohhhhh godddd.

i think the space right under his ear is the most sensitive tho. like neck kisses?? great! but if u rlly wanna hear him, kiss right by his ear right next to his jaw and he cannot hold back his little noises.

i love the rain so much and i have a feeling that when he’s not caught in the middle of it, jihoon does as well so here’s 1.2k words of me needing him! this made me feel a little bit insane what have u done to me.

Those soft early ‘mornings’ where both of you wake up too early to get out of bed and do anything, but at an hour that's acceptable enough for you to stay awake, just for a little bit before falling back asleep. The clouds block out what little light is available, so the early early hours of the morning look as though it’s the dead of night, and it technically is. Jihoon had forgotten to close the window last night, and with both of you being as tired as you were, you both opted to just lay down for the night and stay warm by sharing body heat. Neither of you were planning on falling asleep so early, hence the ungodly hour you had woken up at, and neither of you move much in your sleep, so the position you ended up cuddling in is the one you wake up in. 

Soft skin against soft skin, tired whimpers as you both wake up; you first from the eight hours of sleep you managed to accumulate by four in the morning, and Jihoon, from you pushing your head further into his shoulder in your fatigue. He murmurs softly, hands finding your hair first, brushing it out of your face as you look up at him. Jihoon gives you a sleepy little smile, slowly waking up with you, completely basking in the warmth you and the covers give him in the cold bedroom. “Can’t sleep anymore?” He asks, voice a little scratchy with sleep still drifting away from him. You hum in acknowledgement, pushing your face into his neck. 

Jihoon’s hand slides up your (his) shirt, his fingers roaming over the pit of your spine. His touch is barely there, fingers hardly grazing your skin. It makes you shiver softly against him, goosebumps rising on your arms involuntarily. Your hands find their way into his hair, threading through the strands as your nails scratch against his scalp. He preens like a cat, leaning into your touch as his head rolls back slightly. 

You place a careful kiss to his jaw, near his ear and he’s a goner. The spot under his ear is particularly sensitive; even when you just dig your thumb into it slightly as you hold his neck, it has him squirming in his spot. He whimpers softly, and it makes you smile softly before you begin to softly suck at the skin. He throws his head back against the pillow, giving you more access to the soft skin of his neck. Jihoon’s hands finally settle on your back, one over the fabric of the shirt and one under it. 

You place another kiss to his sweet spot, before you slowly move your attack down his neck, lips ghosting over his Adam's apple as you move to kiss and suck at the same sweet spot on the other side of his neck. Jihoon’s tiny whines and whimpers are the only other sounds that fill the room aside from the downpour outside. 

Angling your head slightly to gently bite at his earlobe, you catch a draft of his shampoo. His cologne had long worn off, but the sheets smell like him and his hair smells so fucking good that it starts to drive you insane as he takes over all five of your senses. You suck in a shaky breath, and Jihoon catches your face before you can even make it to the destination of his earlobe. Jihoon’s grip on your face is gentle, hand holding the side of your face with so much care and adoration. You lean into his palm, allowing him to pull your face closer for a soft kiss. He still tastes like the sweet sauce on the chicken you two had for supper, but he always tastes so sweet that it doesn’t really make much of a difference. His lips are plush and soft, as they always are, and all you can think about is him, him, him. 

Jihoon’s hand that was still on your back slips down your warm skin to your waist. He wraps his arm around you, gently shifting his hip against the mattress and curling his legs around yours as he slowly rolls you over onto your back. His lips never leave yours, somehow maintaining the slow and careful pace.

Displays of his strength, no matter how frequently they happen (and let's face it, they happen a lot; your boyfriend is just really strong), always knock the oxygen right out of your lungs. You gripped his hair a little harder and opened your mouth softly in a gasp. Jihoon takes the opportunity to push his velvety tongue inside your mouth. You let him. You let him kiss you stupid in the downpour as you gently tug and pull on his hair because what else can you do? 

Jihoon’s little whines pick up in frequency as you bury yourself in him. He’s everywhere, muscular torso towering over you, making you feel so much smaller than him as he kisses you until the only thing you’re able to think about is Jihoon himself.  

He pulls away softly when you start to pant against his lips, hands still in his hair but holding on him not as tight. His eyes sparkle in the dark room; the glow of the street lights reflecting back at you in the form of stars in his eyes. God, he's so in love with you. “Love, what time is it?” He asks softly, pressing his forehead against yours, noses rubbing against each other. 

“Four, I think.” You whisper. He laughs gently at the volume of your voice, like the two of you weren’t supposed to be up this early and were afraid of getting caught. The arm that’s not holding him up bends, and his large hand slides back under your shirt. 

He shifts again, knees cracking softly as he rests his weight on them. With both hands available for action, he uses the other to pull you to his chest as he sits up temporarily. You already know what to do, engaging your core to keep yourself upright as both of his hands grip the hem of your shirt. “We should head back to sleep soon then, hm? It’s too early.” His voice is still scratchy, face pressed against your neck so the vibrations of his speech ripple through your entire body. 

Your nails scratch his back as he pulls the shirt over your head, laying you back down on the bed. “Yeah, it’s too early.” You agree, holding the side of his face against your neck, fingertips digging into the small bruise you left by his ear. He hisses before it devolved into another gentle whimper. You giggle and do it again, and Jihoon melts against you. Soft moans mix with tiny whines echo around the room. Thunder cracks, making both of you jump softly, giving you both unexpected friction as you move against each other unexpectedly.

Jihoon feels like putty in your hands, giving into the early morning session of feeling each other up, cock hardening against your thigh as you make a mess of him. The rain picks up and you feel drunk on him; his scent, his size, his strength, his little noises, him. He’s everywhere and he’s everything to you. Something about the rain relaxes Jihoon, and it makes him more compliant when you need him like this. He places another kiss to your lips, jaws moving in sync with each other in perfect rhythm. You know Jihoon and he knows you, and that’s what makes this even better.

Safe to say, the both of you got a few more hours of sleep after working yourselves slowly into exhaustion as he brought both of you to completion with slow, deep thrusts and gentle kisses wherever either of your mouths could reach.

[littleredgun]

Worship - Part Two.

18+ - better not see any of you minors knocking around here.

Warnings for all chapters: Established relationship, female reader, pet names, swearing, guns, violence, restraints, NOOSE, chloroform, knives, death, blood, angst, fluff, SMUT, soft Jason, p in v sex, unprotected sex, size difference, size kink.

I do not own any of the characters in this fic and GIF is not mine, credit to the owner!

My work is not to be translated, copied / posted anywhere else!

Part One

It was getting late and Jason couldn’t feel his fingers so he called it a night. He radioed Dick and told him he was done. He revved his bike and raced home to you. Only, when he got there, there was no trace of you. Furniture strewn across the apartment, curtains hanging by a thread and spatters of blood…everywhere. His blood ran cold as he stood in the middle of your shared apartment looking for clues as to where you could be.

His heartbeat boomed in his ears as he took tentative steps towards the bedroom. “Baby?”, he called out. “Stop playin’ games. You’re scarin’ me”. Silence. Fuck, fuck, fuck. That’s when he saw it. A pool of blood and a rag. Written on the wall in blood were the words. “ HA HA HA”.

“Joker”. Jason threw up, the fear was eating him alive. That bastard killed me with a crowbar, god knows what he’ll do to her. He took off, thundering footsteps echoed through the tiny apartment block. His motorbike roared to life as he sped to the one place he knew you would be.

He broke all sorts of traffic laws but he didn’t care. He needed to get to you. The stench of blood, sweat and gunpowder assaulted his nose the moment he stepped foot in the warehouse. His movements were calculated, silent. He took down goons one by one. His breathing was steady until he heard you. A piercing scream that made his mouth go dry.

“Please, please stop”, you begged, only to be met with manic laughter. Jason knew that laugh well. “I’ll give you anything you want! Please stop”. Another blood curdling scream followed by the sound of gurgling. “Anything I want? Does that include the Red Hood?”. Through heavy breaths you managed to speak. “No. Anything but him”. Jokers crowbar clanged against the metal walls as he spoke. “Oh I think you will…Little”. His words were like salt in a fresh wound. “H-how’d you know that?”.

That spine prickling laugh found your ears once more. “That would be telling, wouldn’t it? Now, how about you meet a friend of mine, hm?”. Joker swung the crowbar in the air like a golf club ready to crack down on your head, his laugh echoed through the room like a taunt.

Then it all went quiet. You braced yourself for the impact of the heavy metal but it never came. Everything sounded fuzzy as a familiar distorted voice called out to you. “Baby?! Are you alright?”. More green and purple goons appeared and set their sights on Jason, he fought them off with might, dropping them one by one like sacks of bricks.

Adrenaline finally wearing off at the presence of Jason, you slipped in and out of consciousness. The attempt to watch the fight and guide him in some way was poorly executed. You couldn’t speak, it like your words were being held back by something tight around your neck.

Sounds of splintering bones and spattering blood accompanied by Jason’s uncontrolled breathing filled the room. Just one left, then I can take you home.

The last big, stumbling goon headed for Jason. With his last drop of energy, he took him down. He fell to his knees and coughed. A faint whimper caught his attention and his eyes darted to you. Tied up on a splintered wooden chair and a noose around your neck.

All the adrenaline shot back through his body, he untied you and removed the piece of rope from around your neck. “Baby, sweetheart, it’s me. You’re safe”. You threw your arms around his neck and he picked up you. He carried you out of the warehouse into the stormy weather. “We’re goin’ home, princess”.

[ssinboo]

Midnights To Come

summary: After finding campus heartthrob Kim Mingyu absolutely butchering his trousers trying to fix the hole he'd busted in them, you offer his your sewing abilities. As retribution, he thinks that nothing is more fitting than his ultimate mission: getting you laid.

or

You and Mingyu spend an unforgettable night together.

pairing: University!AU - Popular!Mingyu x Unpopular!F!Reader, reader does read on the thicker side? Nothing specific.

word count: 6.8k (30~ minute read)

warnings: protected sex (finally), fingering (F rec), drinking, partying

a/n: Thank you so much for the love <3 This is mostly inspired by Taylor Swift's older music lol I'm starting a new job soon, so I'll be mostly MIA for march and perhaps april TT

Kim Mingyu was the ex-boyfriend of a friend’s friend’s cousin, unforgettably handsome with the sort of beauty that belonged in Hollywood. A very tall glass of gorgeous with an incredible personality to boot, that’s why everyone adored him. He was majoring in business to follow in his father’s footsteps but was a star at football and made sure no one would forget just who was the best lineman on their amateur team. 

And you’d met once or twice, briefly. Definitely not enough for him to come even close to becoming acquainted with your existence, but more than sufficient for him to leave his mark. He was a campus Idol, a guy you admired for his popularity and his way with people.

It was at a senior’s party your friend had dragged you to, that you met again. You were quietly searching for some solace in an empty room upstairs, when you saw him fiddling with his pants – It was hard not to notice his large frame struggling with a pair of jeans in the dark bedroom corner.

Being quite fair, at first you believed he was relieving himself, carnally. That was a puzzling sight as horrifying as it would be— I mean, the man had lines of women throwing themselves to be his, why would he just jerk off?  And then, you noticed the stapler he was using to completely butcher the fabric in a desperate way to fix the large hole. 

“Oh my God, just stop!” You exclaim, not being able to watch such abuse any longer. He was known to wear brand-name goods and just the thought of high quality fabric being assaulted by staples made your skin churn.

You, however, had totally forgotten to announce your presence. 

Mingyu jumps, falling off the bed in a split-second, clashing into the carpet with a thunderous thump. Eyes blown wide like a moose in headlights, he stares at you from his half-down half-on-the-bed position, suddenly, completely aware of his nakedness.

“Oh- Fuck–!” He exclaims, stumbling off the bed and pulling the jeans to cover his brand-name boxers.

“OH!” You also seem to realise how inappropriate it was to simply barge into his intimate moment with the stapler. “I’m sorry!” You yell from behind your palms, eyes tightly shut. 

“...No problem?” It sounds more of a question than anything. I mean, it was the polite thing to say when someone says “I’m sorry” however, there was a problem. 

“Do you need any help?” You ask, still muffled and hidden behind your hands. Mingyu has no idea on how to reply, he is familiar with those words, especially coming from a lady, but this scenario is totally different from the sexy ones he’s accustomed to. “I’m a seamstress,” Your brain urges for an explanation, as to make the situation somewhat less awkward.

He seems to be content with that. “You are?”

“Yes!” You turn around, fishing around your purse for a small sewing kit, pink plastic box with teeny tiny everything. “I have some needles and thread.” 

“Oh, thank God!”

That’s how you find yourself sitting on some stranger’s bed with a half-naked Mingyu – You’re carefully patching up the seams on his jeans while he sits cross-legged with a pillow between his legs. 

Who would’ve known that years into University, your closest call with a boy would be such a weird scenario. Sitting with the campus heartthrob as you stitch up his busted trousers. What a story to tell your friends. 

“I’m Mingyu, by the way,” He breaks the awkward silence, reaching out his hand; He then realises you are occupied and takes it back.

You tell him your name, eyes glued to the intricate detailing on the garment.

“Are you new here?” He asks, curiously studying your face.

“No,” You mutter, holding a needle between your lips so you can inspect your stitches. 

“How come we’ve never met?” 

“We have.”

Mingyu adjusts himself, leaning closer, “No”

“Yes?” 

“No!” 

“You dated my friend’s friend’s cousin,” You explain, though it doesn’t help.

“I’ve dated plenty of friends’ friends’ cousins’,” Mingyu half-chuckles, practically patting himself on the back for that one. 

You roll your eyes, “We met once or twice, nothing major.”

“I would’ve remembered you.” 

“You didn’t,” Laughing, you don’t even notice he’s taken offence to his own forgetfulness.

“I don’t forget a pretty girl,” It is said as a matter of factly, a worldly known truth of sorts.

“You haven’t.” 

“I forgot you, apparently,” Mingyu is more frustrated than you’d expect – Than anyone would expect for such a laid back guy.

“I’m not pretty, though?” 

Oh, he is furious at such a statement, “What?! Of course you are. You are a solid 7.5, no joke, dude.”

A solid seven point five? Wow. Coming from anyone else, that could be taken as an offence, I mean, what about you made them go so high up the scale yet not even give a full number? But you were talking about THE Kim Mingyu.

That not only tickles your ego in the right spot, but does get a good laugh out of you. Mingyu laughs along, not fully grasping the humour of it, but enjoying the sound of your giggles. 

“Thanks,” You smile, pulling out your scissors to clip the last of your thread. “Here, it’s done.” 

He widens his eyes, “So fast?!” 

With a nod, you put everything back in your pocket kit. Mingyu excitedly inspects his trousers and his jaw falls open once he can’t locate where your repairs are. 

“It’s perfect!”

You smile, “Great!” 

“Wow. You are some kind of sewing genius! Thanks! You saved my life”

Mingyu proceeds to rant about how great you are and how amazing your skills are and you should totally work with sewing – you are, and that you should make clothes – you do. All because you are just that good – from a small repair. 

You were happy with just helping him, seeing it as a finished mission, ready to pack up and head home but he would not have that, oh, no. Mingyu was laser focused on repaying your kindness – he said he hates owing people so you had to accept.   His manner of retribution? Partying and maybe, if you got lucky, getting you laid. It was his mission now.

So he dragged you downstairs to meet his inebriated friends, all surprisingly welcoming and not nearly as douchy as you’d expected – Soonyoung was especially keen on having you accompany him on the dance floor. Even drunk, his abilities surpassed any of your own and he absolutely demolished the floor with his intricate choreo. 

Seokmin pulled you from the dance floor to join him on a cheesy karaoke battle, the one feat no man can accomplish being as stone-cold sober as you were. His usually impeccable vocals suffered under the alcohol and strained over high-notes. So you just plucked the first poor soul you saw in the crowd to substitute you as Seokmin’s duet.  

Stumbling through the crowd and away from the karaoke, you finally find Mingyu, giving him “Help me” eyes. He laughs softly at your predicament, stumbling from his friend’s shoulder to wrap his arm around your neck — his exaggerated stature almost sent you crashing down. 

“Come on, no one caught your eye?” He slurs his words, wild tongue running over his pretty lips, classic red solo cup dangerously dangling from his long fingers. You can see from up close the drunken blurriness that glazes his pretty eyes with unhinged impulsiveness.

You chuckle, remembering his goal was to set you up for a “Hot date”. 

“Not at all. But I had fun.” 

“Whaat?!” He whines in frustration, stepping forward so you’re facing each other. His arm is still heavily draped over your shoulders. “You didn’t have fun!” 

“I did!” You argue.

“No…” Mingyu pouts.

“I did! I promise,” Offering him a smile, you await his response. 

“Have a drink with me?” 

God, he was a pro at puppy-dog-eyes. With pouty lips, glistening under the remnants of his drink and sparkling eyes with furrowed brows. 

“I don’t– I don’t drink,” You’re so upset with the idea of disappointing him and his adorable pout though he barely pays it any mind. 

“Then we can do something else! Come on!” 

“No, Mingyu–!” 

But he’s dragging you away from the party, placing the edge of his cup between his teeth so he can snatch his coat from the hangers on his way out. You’re stumbling under his weight and hurried steps, but the night air feels so refreshing after the stuffy frat house you practically forget his intentions. 

The house behind you thumps under the song that blasts through its brick walls, colourful LEDs flashing from open windows. The front yard feels almost completely separate from the party inside, a world apart from the drunk atmosphere that holds the stifling rooms. 

Mingyu drags you toward the pavement and standing before his car, you feel your stomach drop once you see him press the button to open the door. 

“Mingyu– You– You’re drunk. You can’t drive,” You stumble over your words, nervously fidgeting with your clothes, even if you left right now, would he still drive?

“I won’t. You’re sober,” He says as a matter of factly and you hadn’t even considered driving this insanely expensive sports car. 

Mingyu opens the driver’s door and stands there, gesturing for you to get in. A true gentleman. With a relieved breath, you do. 

It’s a convertible – Of course, it is, no other car would fit his personality as well. The chassis is coloured a blinding firetruck red and the rims are a polished silver, it’s so clearly well-maintained you feel nervous about driving it. The leather seats smell so vividly of his cologne, woody and fresh.

Mingyu closes your door and jogs to his seat, he jumps over his door with ease, settling onto the beige leather seat with a soft thump.

“Here’s ignition, turn signals, speed and all that,” He leans over and points to each item. 

“Is it stick?”

“Nah, I had it modified, it’s completely automatic.” 

“Wow, disappointed in you… I thought you’d drive stick like a real man,” You tease, leaning over to check the height for the seat – It’s obviously too far back so you adjust it forward.

“Too busy getting my dick sucked to worry about changin’ gears,” He sticks his tongue between his teeth, leaning back with a proud smile. 

“Oh, god,” You groan, “Should I be touching any surface on this car?”

“Nope.”

You laugh.

After putting on your seatbelt, you look over and notice that of course, he’s not wearing his. With a roll of your eyes, you lean over and pull the seat belt over his chest. Mingyu would’ve flinched had he not been tipsy, his eyes linger on your body over his, how your left hand holds the belt at his chest while your right hand fiddles with the lock. 

And you have such pretty long lashes that flutter along your cheeks as you focus on finding the clip for the belt. A soft furrow between your brows, you’re sighing and biting on your lower lip; He notices the pretty shade of red that you wear.

But you’re already done and it’s clipped on with a satisfying click. 

“Driver’s rules, shotgun shuts his mouth,”  You say before he can protest the safety measures.

You smile so brightly, happily turning back to the wheel, excited over this incredible machine that lays in your hands. More than the alcohol in his bloodstream, your joy is intoxicating.  

And the car comes alive with a satisfying roar, you feel the soft vibrating from the wheel course up your wrists. For you, following the speed limit felt perfect, the wheel turned so smoothly and the pedals felt the perfect height. But the little devil on the passenger’s seat kept egging you on to go faster. 

Caving to his wishes, you take the highway out of town, breezing through asphalt with no sight of other cars. The confidence that such a smooth ride gives is true, you feel yourself steadily increasing the speed much to Mingyu’s satisfaction.

The wind in your hair, caressing your face with the exhilarating night air, the thrilling constant hum of such a potent engine working to your heart’s content. Nothing could beat the constellation of artificial lighting that lit the night scenery, every building held its own collection.

“Where should I go?” You ask, suddenly remembering you’re supposed to have a destination, your eyes absolutely glued to the road. 

“Somewhere nice,” Mingyu hums, thinking for a second.

He leans back, his left hand is carelessly draped over your headrest and you can feel his fingers fidget with your hair so unconsciously. Any of his go-to destinations were made for getting hot and heavy, which wasn’t the goal tonight; He wanted to repay you for helping him out and you hadn’t shown any interest in… other manners of payment. So it left him with only one option. 

“Take a left next turn,” He says, leaning forward to dig through the glovebox. 

Mingyu finds a pair of sunglasses, putting them on despite the very obvious lack of Sunlight. He offers you a spare set, and though you’d love to enjoy wearing Prada sunglasses that probably cost more than your entire net worth, you also enjoy seeing anything on the road. So you push them on top of your head, pushing your hair back. 

Somewhere along the deserted road, Mingyu grabs the AUX cord, connecting it to his phone and going through his very generic musical taste. But the atmosphere is so perfect you can’t help but enjoy the bubblegum pop blasting from the dashboard. You even sing along. 

It’s a comfortable silence, filled with Pop music and laughter. 

You drive for almost an hour under his strict directions, until you reach a dirt road. There’s an alarm blaring in your mind, realising that you’re far from civilization, in the middle of nowhere with a total stranger. I mean, serial killers were always described as charismatic, right? 

Making a deal with yourself, you decide that if he does anything even remotely suspicious you’re running the car off the road. You’ll die, but he’ll go with you.

Against your anxiety, however, he tells you to pull up at a clearing just ahead and once you arrive, there’s no doubt on why he chose this place.

From atop this hill, you can see far into the city, its blinding lights nothing but tiny stars on the horizon, the noise pollution of a bustling metropolis is totally gone and replaced by the calming murmurs of nature. Before he can even say anything, you’re leaving the car to admire such a view. 

The moon is full, a pale veil over both of you, standing in the starry sky as the queen, ruling over her stars. The light caressing your body with the warmth of the perfect Summer night.

“What do you think?” Mingyu asks, leaning against the hood of his car. 

You can’t help but to briefly admire the picturesque scene he paints with his playboy aura and Hollywoodian beauty, leaning against this straight-out-of-a-movie convertible. He has this side smirk, knowing this breathtaking landscape can’t be topped by any of your past experiences. 

“It’s…” There aren’t words you can find to describe such a view.  “I– Thank you. It’s gorgeous.”

He visibly relaxes, as if he was waiting anxiously for your opinion, “It’s my favourite place.”

“I can see why,” You laugh, joining him, though you have a little trouble stabilising your butt over the hood.

“Everything feels small when I come here,” He explains. 

Turning to face him, your stomach is filled with annoying little butterflies that flutter around and tickle your insides with foolish thoughts. 

His moonlit profile is somehow prettier than his beauty in any other lighting, his perfect nose and high cheekbones and his eyes, God, his eyes. They hold in their dark orbs, all of the stars and worlds, in its ethereal shine. 

You hum, prying your gaze from him before your brain gets any outlandish rushes of dopamine and creates unattainable ideas. 

Mingyu leans back, his lanky body hitting the windshield, his eyes stare up at the stars. At this moment, he wishes he knew constellations from the top of his head, then maybe, he could impress you with his astronomical knowledge. 

“You look like a movie star right now… I feel like I’m in a movie,” Joking, you lean on your elbow, unconsciously following his body with your own. 

“What do you wanna be when you grow up?” He asks on a spur of the moment.

You laugh, “When I grow up?”

Mingyu realises what you meant by your question and laughs along, “You know what I meant.”

Though you’re caught aback, there’s not much thinking to be done, “I want to design clothes.”

He hums, “It suits you, I think.” He didn’t know you that well, but it seemed fitting.

You chuckle, “You?”

Mingyu lets out a long sigh, leaning on his elbows to stare up at you, “CEO, I guess.”

“Have you always wanted to be a CEO?”

His lips press into a thin line and he hesitates on how much he should tell, throwing caution into the air, Mingyu decides to open up. “I honestly… Don’t want to.”

You furrow your brows, “Won’t you take over your father’s company?” 

He nods, “That’s what I should do.”

“Then what do you want to be?”

It’s such an innocent question and in all honesty, sort of childish almost? Something you would ask a small child and just agree with whatever they come up with. But it’s something he was never allowed to question.

“I… Don’t think I know.” 

You hum, “You could be an actor,” It’s a bit of a tease as much as it is the truth. 

Mingyu raises an eyebrow, sitting up so he can face you properly. You have this soft smile on your face that holds so much warmth for a stranger like him, it almost feels undeserving. 

“An actor?” He prods. 

“Yeah,” You shrug, “You just have the vibes for it… Living a thousand lives in just one, I think you could play any character really well. Plus, you have the looks. I always told my friends you have a face that belongs in Hollywood.” It comes out so naturally, you barely realise what you’ve said until he’s staring at you. “I– Sorr–”

Mingyu smashes his lips into yours. 

You squeak, but don’t shy away from his plush lips. 

His left hand reaches for your jaw, fingers softly tracing your cheek with certain hesitancy but you lean into his touch so willingly he can’t help the bubbling feeling that comes to life deep in his belly. 

When your lips part, you feel the night breeze caress the parts of your body he touched and you find your body misses his warmth. 

Your brain simply can’t function. 

In your brilliant academic journey, romance had never been an aspect you entertained. You quickly learned at thirteen that a fairytale story only happens to cute girls with nice hair and pretty bodies. And not the one repeatedly being used as the butt-end of a cruel joke. 

Mingyu represented everything you would never have; A popular, rich guy with amazing hair and looks out of this world. And he was nice, too. Took time of his day to hang out with you and to repay what had been an instinctive action; help out someone. 

It could only have been a mistake, right?

Mingyu, noticing the dread that paints your pretty face, can’t help the cold shiver that takes over his body, “I… I’m sorry.” 

“It’s fine! I won’t tell anyone.” You reply all too fast.

“What?” He blinks a couple of times, “What do you mean?”

“Y’know, I won’t ruin your reputation…”

He practically jumps from the car, standing in front of you, “Say it again.” 

You look up, his towering height has never once been intimidating, until now, “...I won’t tell anyone. I promise.” 

“No, what the fuck do you mean ruin my reputation, why would kissing you ruin it?” His voice possesses such anger you couldn’t even think he was capable of. But you feel yourself getting upset, how long will he torture you with this? Do you need to say with all words how undesirable you are?

“Because no one in their right mind should be seen with a girl like me!” You blurt out, feeling his anger seep into your body.

“A girl like you?” He huffs in disbelief. “A girl that indulged me, was nice to my friends and let me drag her to the middle of nowhere?” Mingyu leans forward, caging your body in between his arms. “ A pretty, kind girl, who helped me without asking anything for it? What kind of girl, tell me.” He orders, his voice in a low, hushed tone that tickles your nose when he speaks.

Speechless, you’re sitting there, face to face with a guy that genuinely shows interest in you, told you you’re pretty for the nth time tonight and has the most kissable lips you’ve seen. 

His jaw is tight with anger, almost as if he’s got a personal vendetta against you self-hatred, but your stupid lustful brain can’t focus on anything but the sharp cut of his jaw, deep veins bulging from tanned skin. 

“Can I kiss you?” He asks, so quietly you think you hallucinated it. But it’s very much true. 

He looks so irresistible, half-lidded eyes staring at your lips while he bites his own. 

“Please,” you exhale, melting into his body when he leans forward. 

You were never a woman of action, preferring when others make the move, but in this moment you have this newfound confidence, meeting his lips halfway, crashing into a fervorous kiss.

It’s nothing like your first, you feel the heat emanating from his body, scorching hot seeping into your skin, burning every nerve it touches with fervorous want. 

His tongue is in your mouth, anxious and exploring and he is humming against your lips such an intoxicating melody that for a second, you’re a stranded sailor falling for the voice of a siren and dipping into the arms of unimaginable beauty.

Saliva drips from your connected lips but he refuses to end the kiss, no. Because you taste of cherry flavoured hard candies, provocatively luscious with a delicious aftertaste that can only leave you longing for more. 

He parts the kiss, leaning back and practically tearing his varsity jacket from his body. You’re watching closely as he lays it behind you, over the car.

Right hand moving to your waist, Mingyu pushes forward until you’re laying on the hood, so pretty. Your body is still finding his, your chest leaning forward so you can mould into his warmth, hands gripping the fabric of his shirt, closer, closer. 

You’re breathless, eyes trained on his every move with such incredulity as if you believed you were in a dream, hallucinating every moment so far. 

He can feel every curve of your body pressing tightly against his. It’s evident the effect you’re having on him, blood boiling in his veins with unadulterated desire.

There has never been a moment in his life where he genuinely cared to go slow, to show his passion and intent; Every partner of his had been as much into the act as he had been. 

But you, you’re so fragile and every moment he spends in your presence feels so ephemeral, he can not help the panic that rushes into his body to make it worth it, to make every second last.

His lips trace along your jaw, saliva coating the path he trails down your neck until he reaches your collarbones. And his lips are so gentle and enticing, with their sugary kisses that you lean into because you’ve never felt something so wonderful. 

He nibbles and kisses on your exposed skin, teeth grazing across the teeniest bit of cleavage showing from your borrowed dress. So far, you had done an amazing job at keeping the sounds he elicited from leaving your lips, however this once, you couldn’t hold the breathy mewl that escapes. 

Mingyu freezes, eyes slowly rising up until they meet your face. 

“Oh my god, do it again,” He huffs against your sensitive skin.

“W-What?” You ask.

“That sound you just did, god, you sound so fucking hot,” And he slurs against your chest. Not because of alcohol, no, he had sobered up on the windy car ride, but intoxicated on the effortless warmth that you exude. 

You lit a flame on his chest that burns incandescently with nothing but greedy lust, burning its way through his body with an unfathomable hunger that could only be satisfied by your sweetest moans. 

He struggles with the buttons that decorate the cleavage of your dress, trying to undo them and seriously questioning his soberness when they do not separate.

“It’s got a zipper,” You admit, but he looks so relieved. 

Mingyu leans back, pulling you by your hand until you crash into his chest and he can finally reach the back of your dress. You’re breathing so heavily against his skin, your soft hands grazing along the nape of his neck, fingers tangling into his hair; He can hardly focus on the task at hand. 

His right hand runs under the skirt of your dress, clawing at your flesh with heavy hands, almost as if he wanted to hold you fully in his touch. Toying with the band of your panties, he sighs, watching your chest heave at the contact.

You pull your dress sleeves off, letting the fabric bundle around your waist, though you can’t be arsed to properly take it off. Mingyu does not mind at all, no, he’s absolutely hypnotised by the sight of your tits.

Shoving his face onto your cleavage, he’s pulling you closer into his body by your hips, sucking love bites on your unblemished skin. Leaving a trace of him that would last longer than your moments together, a mark of momentary possession that allowed his brain to indulge.  

And you’re contaminated with his boldness, clawing at his shirt with relentless anticipation. You suddenly have this peculiar urge to feel his skin on yours, unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. 

Mingyu smiles against your skin, finding your hands that touch him fervently, wrapping his fingers around yours. And for a brief moment, you feel as though you might’ve wronged him, but he pulls your hands to wrap around his neck as he finds your lips again while his hands are pulling on the hem of his shirt.

The kiss is only parted once, when he pulls the white shirt above his shoulders and discards it somewhere across the soft grass; completely unimportant at the moment. 

And god, Mingyu is divinely sculpted with defined pecs and hardened abs that tense under your touch. You sigh at the dreamy sight of his tan skin completely exposed for your viewing only. 

He relishes in the adoring look you exhibit, eyes dripping wholly in an exquisite hunger you’ve never felt before; And he coerces this scandalous reaction from you with pride. Your hands are eager to touch him, so you do. You run your fingers down his supple skin, fingernails grazing in teasing lines. 

Smoothing out your hands up his chest, you find his neck and pull him toward your lips, wanting to feel his bare skin on yours, stealing his heat until your bodies are running at the exact same temperature.

His hands, large and calloused from playing professional sports, lay heavy on your thighs. Mingyu pulls at the waistband of your panties and takes a second to lock eyes with you, guaranteeing your approval. 

You can only hope you’ve got the good pair of underwear on. 

But it doesn’t matter, because he pulls it off at once, discarding it above his shoulder to fall somewhere along his shirt. 

Your dress is bunched up around your waist and you should’ve felt more embarrassed to be completely exposed before him but Mingyu looks at you with such reverent eyes, taking every inch of abundant flesh with care. 

“Fuck–” He groans, eyes glued to the spot between your legs. You can’t even close them in an attempt at modesty because he is standing right there and not going anywhere. 

He runs a slender finger across your slit, breathing heavier at the sight of moisture that pools along the lips. 

When you bite your lower lip, unknowingly coquettish and staring at him all bright eyed and pleading, Mingyu let out a strained sound that could barely be classified as a groan. 

“Can I?” 

His finger dances around your slit and he looks unsure. You nod with a soft “Yeah.”

Nothing like anything you’ve felt or done before.

That’s the only way to explain the feeling of having his long finger prodding at your hole with gentle movement. He soon joins another one, stretching you out with delicate scissoring motions, he’s not focused on making you cum, he wants to prepare you for him. 

And that very thought makes your stomach tighten in anticipation. 

You don’t even realise when your hips are thrusting against his hand, matching his pace. And you’re definitely not thinking when you ask in a gasp:

“A… Another one–”

Mingyu stills. 

“You don’t fuckin–” He leans forward, forehead flushed to yours, uneven breath tickling your sensitive lips. “You have no idea what you’re doin’ to me, babygirl.” 

You feel your body consumed with an unstoppable amount of confidence, knowing the grip you hold over Mingyu at this moment, you’re dizzy with power.

“Show me, then,” The lazy smile that finds your red stained lips is a sight to bear.

He smirks, knowing he will make you eat your words soon. 

As he pulls his fingers from your cunt, there is a thick string of arousal that coats his skin in a sinful glaze. With a confident smirk, Mingyu 

But he doesn’t expect when you lean forward, letting your tongue run all over, cleaning his fingers and tasting first-hand the pleasure he brings you. 

Oh, fucking hell. 

Mingyu could’ve cum right then and there. 

You’re giggling as he fumbles with his belt, he wishes he could’ve stopped to appreciate such a sweet sound, but he was way too horny to think about anything other than plunging his cock into you at once. 

When the night breeze hits his throbbing erection, Mingyu shivers.

You’re chewing on your lower lip, equal parts excited and terrified at his sheer size. He is large. And fat, with bulging veins running down his length and a thick head that’s trickling with pre-cum. 

“Oh my god.” 

Mingyu cowers at your gasp, “What?”

“You’re huge, fuck.” 

Oh, your praise runs straight down to his erection. His chest puffs out with absolute pride.

“Do you have a condom?” It was a silly question when aimed toward Mingyu, of course he did. He always does. 

He fishes out his wallet and pulls a fresh packet, tearing the foil apart with his teeth and pulling the pre-lubed rubber. Mingyu is about to roll it over himself when your hands find his. 

“Can I–?” You ask and he almost sighs. 

He watches you with bated breath. You’re delicate, small hands quietly rolling the condom over his seemingly unending length until you’ve reached the base. Your fingers linger in curiosity and he can’t help but to find it adorable.

Properly protected, Mingyu grasps his length as you position yourself better on the hood, legs wide open, dripping in anticipation. Oh, you couldn’t fault his desire to tease, could you?

Running his tip over and over your drenched core, he groans. You’re clenching around nothing, hands fidgeting with the bunched up fabric of your dress. Mingyu has a stupid confident smirk on his lips, watching you squirm at his minimal touch. 

“Mingyu!” You whine when he brushes against your clit. Reaching your right hand, you claw at his heaving chest. He doesn’t budge, however.

“What?” He plays dumb, toying with your hole. 

“F-Fuck me? Please…?”

Fuck seven point five, you were a ten, a twenty, a one-hundred, no fucking numbers could quantify your allure, no. You could charm your way out of any crime if you pursed your brows and pouted your lips like this, smeared red lipstick painting your soft skin, saliva dripping down your chin so indecently. 

And your hand was still, caressing his stomach, like a succubus ready to pounce and devour him like a five course-meal. Consume him whole, body and soul until he has nothing left to give. He would let you have him, any way you wanted, you just needed to say the word.

Just needed to let his name fall out of your pretty lips in a breathy gasp and he would be at your call. 

Mingyu enters you slowly, stretching out every millimetre of your walls with a burning feeling of fullness.

“Fuck–” He groans, “Relax for me, baby.” 

You take a deep breath, allowing your body to relax as much as your brain allows at the moment and he takes the chance to stretch you out further, hips pistoning forward. 

Mingyu feels the pleasure seep into his body in one fell swoop, dissolving in his bloodstream, filling his lungs with heat. You’re snug around him, clamping down on his sensitive erection, pulsing alive and throbbing. 

“Are you in?” You ask, not risking looking down and disappointing yourself at the remaining length. Mingyu is hovering just inches above you, hand taut on the hood, using every bit of restraint imaginable to not pound you into tomorrow.

“Just a little more,” He breathes out, head coming to rest on the crook of your neck as his hip comes to meet yours.

He allows you a moment to let the stretch lessen, to allow your discomfort to slowly morph into pleasure. And soon, you’ve got your arms wrapped tight around his broad shoulders, his almond eyes have completely surrendered to the dark gaze of lust, devouring you alive with their insatiable hunger. 

“You can move now…” You breathe out, fingers tangling around his silky smooth hair. 

“You sure?”

“Oh, yeah.” He smiles against your lips, hips finding themselves a languid, slow and torturous pace until you’re begging for more. 

The way his body feels against your is something unforgettably wonderful, every curve of his torso giving into your own, every inch of you filling into the gaps of his in an imperfectly perfect little puzzle.

With every thrust, you’re pulling at the roots of his hair, gaining yourself sharp hisses from Mingyu. Though he enjoys the tugging, leans into your scratching, presents his lips to you with total eagerness.

He fastens his movement, thrusting into you with sheer fervour. His hands are exploring your body, kneading at abundant flesh with excited fingers that leave trails of crescent moons shapes along your skin. 

Out here, in the middle of nowhere, caressed by the breeze and the moonlight, you’re whispering his name in an unanswered prayer, letting the syllables dance around in your tongue before you let them slip away into the starry night sky to be forgotten. 

You’re clenching around him with pleasure, feeling the knot in your belly tighten and tighten. 

“Feels– So good,” Mingyu hisses against your kisses, hips not stuttering even once. 

Brain an absolute mush, you can’t find any words to respond other than strained moans.

“So– Fucking good…” Nuzzling along your jaw, he grazes his teeth on your neck, painting your skin with love bites.

“I–” You gasp, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer. He doesn’t even need you to finish your sentence to know what you meant.

“Yeah? Me too– Let go, baby.” 

Digging his hands into your hips, Mingyu hurries his thrusts, hitting your sweet spot again and again until you’re melting in his arms, singing praise of his name with your candied voice and luring him into his own orgasm. 

He leans forward, capturing your lips in a harsh kiss, hips slowing down as he comes undone, tainting the condom with heavy spurts. 

You’re both gasping in complicity, blanketed in the summer night.

Once the condom is discarded, Mingyu lays by your side and pulls you into his heaving chest. You both lay there in comfortable silence, letting the orgasms fade out into strained sleepiness. 

“Will you promise to remember me?” You ask, watching the twinkling stars that lay before you two.

“Where did that come from?” Mingyu chuckles. 

“Do you promise?” Your voice is a soft whisper that dissipates into a shaky, hesitant breath, “Do you promise to remember me?”

He laughs, but your eyes hold such urgency, he can not ignore the human need to sympathise with your woes. “...Why– Why do you say that?”

“Because…” You sigh, “Because I’ll remember you, – this,” Hands vaguely gesturing toward your conjoined bodies, “For the rest of my life… And I’m afraid even a decade from now, you won’t be able to recall my name or what I look like.” 

It’s serious, it’s a concern that has plagued your mind since the moment you laid down. However, Mingyu can only focus on the fact that you’ve assumed the two of you won’t see each other again, ever. 

Leaning forward, his slight smile does nothing to hide the clearly confused look that is plastered across his handsome face, “It’s like you plan to disappear. We’ll see each other again.”

You shake your head, “What are the chances, Mingyu? We’re just… Fleeting seconds in centuries. What are the chances alumni – Not even from the same major, – will meet again?”

“What if we promise to meet?” Oh, he’s absolutely set on it, but you find it adorable; this fervorous intent on defying the hands fate has laid before you.

“Then, what happens when we’re bored of each other?” You chew on your lower lip, but he discards your argument. 

“That might not happen,” He points out.

“We’re too different. It defeats fate to force it,” You sigh.

Mingyu doesn’t have an answer right now, but he’s seeking one with furrowed brows and pouted lips.

“Remember me like this, no wait–” You run your fingers through tangled hair in an attempt to fix the messing he’d done before. “Done. Like this.” You flash a smile, posing your body in the best angle it has, to construct the perfect memory.

But Mingyu sees your flustered cheeks, smeared lipstick that leaves behind a stained trail of hot red over swollen-kissed lips. Sleep hazed eyes that gaze at him with such warmth, that hold a longing he wouldn’t be able to grasp for another decade. You liked him, you truly did. And that’s why you would never allow your memories of him to be tainted by the grasps of time. 

You’d forever remember his dorky smile and dad jokes, his clumsy hands and warmth.

And Mingyu doesn’t realise it yet, but he would forever remember you as someone who marked him forever. To disregard the cards you’re dealt, make your own memories, remember it all fondly. 

Maybe in a couple years, you will have a wild dream about this very moment, a fuzzy memory that leaves behind a nostalgic smile that will follow you for the day, reminding you of this perfect feeling. You’ll look back with wistful thinking of the good days. 

And will keep it close to your heart.

Where it belongs.

You thought about it often the day after, but days turned into weeks, turned into months, turned into years. And a decade later, you found yourself having a dream about the distant memory, and the sweet nostalgic feeling accompanied you throughout your routine. 

After university, you had found a simple job in your area that sufficed the need for experience and filled the empty stop in your resume. Though it was far from fulfilling. There was no creative liberty allowed and you often found yourself overworked and constricted by tight deadlines. 

The dream of your own line had yet to die, however. That’s why you had volunteered for such a demanding gig: designing for a historical movie. Luckily, your resume had allowed you a good position, overseeing the wardrobe and designing the pieces that would be forever captured on film.

The main character, a pretty young thing with curly hair, was extremely excited to work with you and almost cried when she saw the dresses she would be wearing. 

Today, you would be fitting for the lead male role and designing him some characteristic James Dean style clothes. Your assistant led him to your office while you were gathering your materials. 

When you enter the room and you’re met with those gorgeous almond eyes, you can’t help the stupid smile that finds your lips.

“This is the lead actor, Kim Mingyu,” Your assistant explains. 

“Yeah, I know,” You laugh. 

He stands up, a charming smirk plastered on his pretty face, “Hey.”

Your assistant looks at you with a puzzled look, “You know each other?”

Mingyu nods. 

“Yeah, I never forget a pretty face.” 

[mxiaogod]

— 16. [AGNUS] SUKUNA AU X FEM AFAB! READER

WARNING : VERY CRUEL, CANNIBALISM REFERENCES, PENETRATION, BITING, MANHANDLING, CUNNILINGUS, JUST PLAIN HATE FUCK? LMAO IDEK HOW TO TAG THIS ANYMORE, DARK CONTENT! NSFW, (DNI IF YOU AREN’T 18+)

A/N : Y'all I’m back after a year omfg, thank you for 437 followers! I’m grateful for the recognition. I got lazy halfway writing the rest of the smut, sorry y'all.🧍‍♀️

— Sacrifice of the self is noble, sacrifice of others is cowardly. A life forlorn while doom is in your blood. There is no room for terror of demons if you were born for one.

“You are our salvation, my beautiful, beautiful daughter.” Lithe fingers thread through the strands of your hair, intertwining with frail and bony fingers. Your mother coughs, each sound scratchy like a record player but each syllable lulling you in a state of tenderness.

“Why me, mother?” You asked, your voice betraying your heart. You are stuck in a state of confusion, thoughts spiraling as to why out of all, you?

“My darling, we aren’t made to last forever and there will be no peace in eternity.” As her words spill from her chapped lips and sharp tongue, so do the tears that kiss the bone of your cheeks. 

A sacrificial lamb, agnus. That’s all you were ever destined for. Destined to be nothing but ruins sedimenting until the depths of your soul, a divine offering to a god like him. 

They say that fear is a common reaction to the divine and that does frighten you. A chill suddenly hugged your frame, bones shaking from trepidation. You are born and you blossomed from the land of death, a doomed faith filled with nothing but misery and wisteria. 

A booming knock sounded from the wooden door, along with the crash of thunder storm and the rise and fall of the seas. “It is time! You must hurry, he is angry! The god is getting angry!” accompanied by screams of terror, the children, the people, you thought. The water level rises up along with your constant sobs and tears of panic.

Your mother scurries, holding you up by the sharp points of your elbow forcing you to stand and face your fate. A wretched and noble flavor leaves a bitter taste in your tongue. Your lip curls as to why? A constant question in your mind. You bite your lip in pretense of bravery.

You walk slowly out of the door, facing the unforgiving seas with only a dagger clasped within the calluses of your hand. You walk up until the tips of your toes kiss the foam of the waves, drawing a big breath, a gust of wind fills and expands your lungs, feeling like something is caught in your throat. You close your eyes, wispy lashes caressing your cheeks as tears still escape the tight bindings. You remember all the lives lost and the safety of others, engraved in your mind and forever a resolve.

“Where are you! Show yourself, I am not a coward! I come here to face you.” You shout into oblivion, your saccharine voice echoing through the waters.

“Reveal yourself! Don’t waste my fucking time!” Your shouts are getting angrier, feeling like there’s gravel stuck in your throat. All the while your palms clutch the blade harder, drawing cardinals from the crevices of your palm. 

A swishing sound caused your neck to snap forwards, heavy steps slapping against the salty waters. “Ah, what a sweet lamb, eh?” A Shadow makes its eldritch dance, telling stories of terror in the buoyant breeze. His gravelly voice reaches your ears, it’s depths like a punch in your gut. 

“I can feel your misery sweet lamb.” He taunts, his voice echoing and teasing your mind. You squint through the haze, trying to make up his figure but he blends well with the fog and the raindrops mess with your vision.

You finally get a clear view of his hauntingly beautiful face, a scream making it way past your lips in shock and terror. Your whole life was dedicated to this, but nothing could have prepared you for Sukuna, the god of the unforgiving seas.

“I get that reaction a lot, more than you know.” He says unfazed, walking slowly and unforgiving towards you. You blink to get a clear view of divine masculinity. Blushed hair with markings that tell tales, kissing all over his sinewy form. A man that is not like mankind with four arms and a profusion of faces. 

He is so hauntingly, and devastatingly beautiful.

All the while stunned by the creature, he suddenly shocks you by stabbing his trident with great force and speed, caging in your neck, sharp claws burying in the sand. You let out a sharp cry as your body falls, embracing your impact while your downy skin clashes with the rough sand. Your hands immediately grip the sharp claws of his weapon while trying to find yours. “Do not even try it.” He says with cruel eyes and a sharp smirk.

“No– NO!” You cry out in defeat, your mind spiraling into hysteria. What a fool you thought, your whole life was dedicated to fight and achieve victory against this wretched god, but you were left with defeat in seconds without even a single slash on his scarred skin. 

He kneels down beside your form, caressing your cheeks affectionately. You were dumbfounded and you found yourself leaning into the touch. 

A man you were taught to despise your whole life, was the only man who showed you what affection felt like in a slither of a second. 

You stare at his peculiar face with betraying eyes and lashes wet with tears. “Little lamb, you are an instrument of war.” He says, confusing you even further.

Your chest heaves in confusion, wondering whether to kiss the man or slit his throat. You try to swallow in attempts to relieve the dryness of your throat.

“I don’t understand–” you shake your head, “We’re supposed to, I’m supposed to-” You were interrupted with a feral kiss, his winter lips as cold as stone. It felt like a loving rub to your back, a mother’s affection and a friendship that you missed out on your whole life. His kiss was ferocious and unforgiving, but he has given you nothing but beautiful madness. Your pale white dress clings to your skin, hugging your figure. Baring the sharp points of your nipples due to the coldness of the cruel storm.

His angry, roaming hands make their way to every inch of your body, sanctifying your soul. He reaches your pussy, baring your soul to him. The waves smash around the rocks in the shallows, their foam crests creating a chaotic lace on the blue. 

“What a sweet, sweet lamb, all for me, right?” He asks in a tauntingly soft voice, you can’t do nothing but agree, like a dumbstruck whore. 

Your hips lift in an attempt to chase pleasure as his fingers circle your clit. He grips the skin of your hips in a bruising clutch as his tongue darts out to lick the length of you stomach in a maddening path up and down, sealing his cruel intentions deep into your skin. Open mouthed kisses placed in your lower abdomen as you moan sweetly at the foreign sensation of pleasure and sentiment. Still confused at the fact that you were taught to hate a man who has so far shown you nothing but pleasure and cruel affection.

Sukuna lifts your dress that sticks to your skin angrily, like it was blasphemy for anything to touch your skin other than him. Lush and plump thighs greeted him, along with the sweetest pussy ever bared to him. He parts your pussy lips with his thumb, opening you up in the most sensitive way.

“I love the sounds you make, so sweet, so saccharine.” He says, while his thumb plays with your clit. 

He grips your thighs and lifts your hips, holding you by your iliac crest and greedily covering your cunt with his mouth.

“Not even the sweetest fruit on earth could ever hold a candle to the taste of your pussy.” He murmurs as he eats you out unforgivingly, his tongue stretching you in sweet agony.

“Oh gods, it feels so good.” You moan breathily, he stops momentarily, his hands gripping your face while his sharp nails dig into the plush of your cheeks. 

“I’m here, and I’m the only god you’ll address while you’re bared to me, and only me.” He says with enough force for submission, you could only nod your head in response.

He sits on the soles of his feet as he admires the beautiful picture you paint for him, his cock throbbing while the scent and sweetness of your pussy still lingering on his tongue. 

“You could drive a god crazy and wonder what their fingers did before they held you.” He says in admiration as he fists his cock, veiny and throbbing, dripping with pre-cum.

Your hips twitch in desire and terror, wondering how you’re ever going to take him in your pussy.

His mouth roams around your breast, his incisors driving down and biting on the soft flesh above your left breast, drawing crimson blood and marks all over your body, marking it as his temple.  

You release a cry from the pain and pleasure, the only two other sensations you’ve ever felt other than doom and terror. He shushes your cry by licking on the wound as he releases sounds of pleasure from the taste of your blood and flesh. 

You no longer believe in anything other than the way he holds your flesh between his teeth, as it starts to taste like religion to him.

His hands cage your hips, pinning them down to the sand leaving no room for protest. He aligns his cock to your pussy, driving in full force with no mercy. You cry and cry out from the pain until it turns into pleasure, blood covering the premises of your thighs and his hips. His eyes close from heaven on earth and he looks so beautiful with you all over his mouth.

You moan his name until it is no different than a prayer. You begin to think you’re sick in the head for committing such acts of crime that everyone would shame and frown upon but god you wanted him, in some primal, wild way, full of teeth, blood and flesh.

Because after all, cruelty was the only love you’ve ever known. 

[justporo]

An Assortment of Strays

I believe I still owe you guys a drabble about how Astarion adopts a stray kitten. So here you go. @mushy6902 this one's on you again! (Also I only googled what you could give a kitten for improvisation, don't take that as advice!)

Artwork by the wonderful @britonell ❤️

Pairing: Astarion/Gn!Tav

Wordcount: 2,2k

After an autumn storm Astarion comes home completely drenched, under his doublet jacket he has a small kitten that's desperately trying to cling to the vampire's chest.

Astarion had gone out to run some errands - probably mostly threads for his embroidery projects and some new tomes he could brood over.

He‘d asked you if you would care to join but you had taken a look outside your tall living room window, seen the autumn storm brewing outside, making itself known with stormy winds and clouds passing over the moon and told him “thank you, but no thank you”.

He couldn‘t catch a cold - you could, and weren‘t very keen on it.

Then you had cozied up in front of the lit fireplace with a goblet of wine - you had adopted Astarion‘s inclination to it in no time - and a book. Surely, it had started to rain cats and dogs soon after. And because you were such a nice and thoughtful person you had already collected some towels for the vampire when he would return and curse the weather, looking like a wet puppy, his white curls all but flattened by the rain and drooping adorably around his pointy ears.

He took much longer than expected though but you weren‘t worried - he was a free man now after all and could do whatever he pleased.

So, you sat and read - Scratch had come over too when the storm had really started going. After your party had split after everything was said and done, you‘d insisted on keeping the stray. So now he lived with Astarion and you in your little townhouse and very much enjoyed being spoiled by you.

Astarion didn‘t bond with the dog awfully much - „rather a cat person, my love, sorry“ - but he still sometimes could be found sitting in the window alcove reading with the dog in his lap, who received some head scratches.

Scratch had almost buried himself under the blanket you had spread over your legs now, when the first lightning strikes had turned into roaring thunder. You were gently patting his head and ears to soothe him while holding your book with your other hand. Focused completely on your reading you only looked up when you heard noises - and cursing - in the hallway.

You put your reading down and softly lifted the dog‘s head from your lap to get up. As you walked in the hallway you saw the expected scene: Astarion completely drenched, hair dripping and cursing like a sailor.

„Gods, I should have listened to you concerning the weather - you were right“, Astarion spat and made and disgusted face. „I‘d say I am right more times than you would like to admit, my love“, you answered with a chuckle and grabbed the towels you had prepared but were startled when you realised there was something more.

The vampire seemed to have something inside his doublet jacket he had obviously tried to keep dry.

„What is it you have there, Astarion?“, you asked curiously and drew your brows together - somehow you were sure that it wasn‘t just books or a precious bottle of „a fullbodied red“ that he was carrying.

The vampire ignored your question. His face lit up when he saw that you were holding some towels: „Oh, good thinking, my sweet, we could really use something to soak up all the godsdamned rain.“ „We?“, you replied confusedly and helplessly held up the towels.

Astarion carefully opened up his doublet and revealed a small furry creature. A small white kitten that was just as drenched as Astarion and desperately tried to cling to the vampire‘s chest: small, scared, miserably shaking and meowing.

„Oh no, who‘s this poor little thing?“, you cooed immediately and opened up your arms with one of the towels opened up so you might wrap the small kitten in it.

„Really? That‘s how you treat a cat you‘ve just met when I am here - your cherished soulmate - just as wet and miserable?“, Astarion complained. „For being so miserable you have an awful lot of breath to waste, my friend.“ Astarion huffed in protest. „Also you are not probably only a few weeks old and loudly meowing for help“, you continued and carefully took the kitten from Astarion who just as carefully handed the tiny little thing to you.

„Oh, I could meow if that‘s what would help further my case with you“, Astarion pouted while you cautiously dried off the kitten.

When the vampire just stood in front of you and said nothing while still dripping all over your hardwood floors you looked back up. „Oh uh, there‘s another towel back there, my love, if you want to dry yourself“, you said and then went back to cradling your small new friend.

Astarion sighed dramatically and walked past you to grab the promised towel. „I already get the feeling, this was a mistake. Your heart so eagerly conquered by a cute little stray you just took in“, he proclaimed theatrically, the back of one of his hands placed on his forehead.

„Hmm, says the cute little stray that I took in and that conquered my heart“, you replied matter-of-fact, not taking your eyes of the small animal and started to walk towards the living room and the burning fire there in the fireplace.

As you passed Astarion who was still trying to get his hair dry you threw your vampire a sideglance though; just to make sure he‘d caught that. And, oh, he had. He smirked and winked at you, having heard exactly what he wanted from you.

You sat down in front of the fireplace. Scratch was immediately up and wagging his tail, smelling the newcomer. “You be nice and keep your distance, Scratch”, you warned the dog. “I guess our new friend is already scared out of their mind!” And so the stray layed down again, his head on the ground between his paws, looking up at you with puppy eyes. His tail was still lazily wagging in excitement.

The kitten was slowly stopping shuddering with the warmth of the fire starting to dry her fur, but she wouldn’t stop meowing. Astarion came over to you after some time after he had put on some dry clothes. “I guess she doesn’t want to be held by me. Will you hold her? I’m going to look for something we can feed her in the kitchen”, you explained immediately after the vampire had sat down on his knees in front of you. You cautiously handed over the towel with the kitten to the stunned elf who started to huff in protest: “No, Tav, please you are the one good with animals…” “You brought the small cat here…” “Yes, but only because-“ You were already out the door and halfway to the kitchen. You searched your brain for what you knew about what you could feed a cat that was still so small. Tomorrow you would have to go out and find proper nutrition for the poor small thing.

You rummaged through your cabinets and finally mixed together some milk, water, yogurt and eggs – at least for tonight that would hopefully suffice. In one bowl you had your improvised kitten food and in another you filled some water. Then you went back to the living room. Astarion had donned the towel and was holding the kitten against his chest where it had calmed down. But she still had her claws borrowed in Astarion’s doublet and apparently they went right through the cloth judging by the vampire’s grimace.

“Watch out, she got you, tiger”, you joked as you kneeled down in front of him with the two bowls in hand. Scratch was up again too and sniffed curiously at the mixture for the kitten. But it was seemingly not much to his liking as he laid down again quickly.

“Should I set her down so she can feed and drink?”, Astarion asked you. He really seemed a bit overwhelmed with trying to care for the small furry thing. As she clawed at him again a soft “oww” left his lips. “We can at least try but we should pay attention Scratch doesn’t get too close. He would probably be a bit much for our newcomer”, you said and looked at the dog tentatively. But Scratch seemed to have taken the hint and had laid down a bit further and had just started to snooze peacefully.

Astarion slowly and carefully lifted the kitten from his chest, having to remove a claw or two with his fingers. He sighed as he looked down and saw some loosened threads in the embroidery: “I’m going to have to patch that up later.” Then he sat the small one down in front of the bowls. But the vampire did not let go f the small animal before he let one finger caressingly run over the creature’s head and down it’s back. He almost seemed scared that it would run off. But the kitten did not. If anything, she seemed to even enjoy the vampire’s pets.

“She’s so weird. Animals usually don’t feel very comfortable around me – you know, the whole vampirism thing… They feel it”, Astarion said absent-mindedly while he watched the cat slowly check out the two bowls. His red eyes were still observing her, a small warm smile was playing on his lips. Your own heart swelled with affection seeing how much he cared for this small being.

“Where did you find her?”, you asked. The vampire reached out to the kitten again, softly stroking her why she drank a little water. The small blue eyes were wandering around the surroundings – cautiously. But she still moved up her head to get more of the vampire’s pets. “I guess she likes you”, you said with a smile and kept your eyes on her before the Astarion could answer your previous question. “Trust me to get someone to purr”, he smirked. “Eww Astarion, not the time”, you moaned. You only received a chuckle and a smirk in response.

“I heard some meowing while everyone was scurrying from the rain in a small alley. I thought I was imagining it at first but there she was, a small little kitten, sitting alone in a small basket. It was completely drenched and it didn’t look like its mother was still around. Maybe she was the runt of the litter. I… just couldn't leave her there, all alone and cold, in the dark”, Astarion explained, his eyes miles away as he remembered the situation. But you could quickly see that that wasn’t the only thing. It was apparent why he felt for the lost little creature.

“You have a big heart, Astarion”, you told him sincerely which made his gaze flick to yours. But his eyes immediately left yours again. He surely didn’t believe what you said himself. At least not yet. That was okay though, you would tell him again and again until he didn’t doubt himself anymore.

The kitten meanwhile was trying to feed from the mixture you had concocted but it seemed she was only really getting the stuff on her adorable little face.

Astarion kept observing her a little bit more, cocking his head. Then he shook his head and softly grabbed the small creature again. “It’s not going to work like this, little one, if you only keep rubbing your face in your food”, he said affectionately as he made to hold her with one hand. With the other he took some of the mixture with one of his fingers and then held it to the kitten’s snout.

And surely, after a few seconds she licked it off the vampire’s fingers. A big smile crept onto your face and your heart grew in size while you watched the scene. Scratch also had slowly come back and was pushing his nose under your arm so you would let him rest his head on your lap again. You allowed it and kept watching how Astarion slowly fed the kitten. She’d quickly grown more eagerly and had started using her teeth too.

“Oww, will you stop biting me, you mean little thing”, Astarion exclaimed and shook his hand. “Serves you right, now you know how it feels”, you immediately threw in. The pale elf threw you a glance, saying “are you even serious”, but he kept allowing the cat to feed of his fingers until she seemed sated and her eyes grew heavy.

The vampire grabbed the towel that still laid next to him and lightly rubbed the mess of the kitten’s face. You offered Astarion the blanket from before to make an improvised bed for the small one on which he placed the cat carefully so she could get some rest.

“She’ll need a name if we’re going to keep her”, you said as you both watched the fur ball breathe softly. “Well, we already have a dog called Scratch, maybe we can call her Bite”, Astarion replied with a grin. You made a face at him and left the topic for the time being.

“What a fine assortment of strays we are, don’t you think, my love?”, Astarion asked then and looked at you with warmth in his eyes. You leaned over and gave him a kiss. “Fine, yes”, you answered as you made to lay down and put your head into Astarion’s lap. “But we’re not strays anymore, we’re home now”, you said with a smile and looked up at your soulmate. The vampire let his hands cup your cheeks and ran his thumbs over them lovingly: “And how sweet it is being home with you, my heart.”

Bonus: Enjoy this sweet little creature stare directly into your soul!

[bluejeanstrash]

why don’t we kiss since we’re bored? 

for this request. thank you again, anon 🫶

tags: just some good old-fashion slice of life fluff | w/c: 940

‘uhm, do you want to bake something?’ seungcheol suggests, reading off a list on his phone.

‘not really’ you mumble, eyes shut. baking required effort, dishes, and cleaning at minimum; absolutely no way you both would follow through. ‘plus, do you even have anything we can bake with?’

he shakes his head no which you can’t really see, but the sound of him locking his screen tells you everything you need to know. 

‘let’s give up’ you sigh, pulling at the loose threads of the fluffy carpet you both are laying on. 

‘mmm. let’s’ he agrees, grabbing your busy hand and bringing your interlocked fingers to rest on his stomach.           

right now you were supposed to be sitting pretty in a gorgeous private garden (that had an insane waitlist but thankfully having a celebrity boyfriend had a few perks), pouring bubbly into a tall glass while your boyfriend took “candid” pictures of you, and you of him. it was a picnic date that had been in the works for weeks.

and up until the morning the weather looked promising—sunny with a slight chill as was forecasted. but then came the unannounced downpour, dampening the weather first and the mood shortly after. 

normally rainy days in were always welcome, but this date was something you both were really looking forward to since you didn’t really get to do “public dates”. well, not today either. 

still, you did try salvaging the day by suggesting ideas (do you want to watch a movie? why don’t we play something? let’s do a puzzle?) while simultaneously shooting each down. 

now, defeated, you lay next to each other, the sound of the rain constant like the rise and fall of seungcheol’s tummy. it’s quiet for a few minutes but when he takes in a sudden inhale of air, you can tell he’s about to speak.

‘why don’t we…kiss since we’re bored?’ a question so unexpected, it elicits an unattractive snort out of you.

‘what?’ you open your eyes, turning your face to him. 

he explains how it’s a thing, a slang they used to use back in the day.

‘wooow, you’re looking at me straight in the eyes and lying these days, huh? i see how it is’

‘i swear! it’s an actual thing!’

‘okay then’ you turn your body to face him, easily convinced ‘let’s kiss since we’re bored’

he breaks into a dimpled smile, doing the same. he places one firm hand on your waist pulling you closer to a kissable distance.

‘hi’ from him soft and fond.

‘HI-IIII’ from you loud and playful, making him chuckle.

he brings a hand up to your face, gently brushing your hair back while his soft gaze admires you and all your little (im)perfections ‘why are you so pretty? huh?’ he questions, a finger tapping your nose. 

‘why are you?’ and with that your lips meet, soft and sweet, both of you sinking into a space of familiarity. outside, as the rain hits the ground heavier your kisses deepen. 

soft hums are replaced by needier breaths as you make out, taking his lower lip in between your teeth to bite teasingly as his grip tightens around your waist. you’re both completely into it when a loud crack of thunder interrupts, causing you to flinch, accidentally biting his lower lip at little too hard.

‘fuck!’ he curses, wincing at the shooting pain. 

‘fuck, i’m so sorry! are you okay?’ you grab his face, trying to see if that drew blood.

‘i’m fine, i’m fine. are you okay?’

‘i’m fine. i’m so sorry. the thunder, it- it scared me’

‘i know baby, i know, it’s okay’ he reassures, gently rubbing your back, like he did when you were anxious. 

‘does it hurt?’ you fuss, stroking your thumb along his bottom lip knowing he’d love it. and god, he does. seungcheol is a sucker for these moments—a little sniffle, a non-existent cut, and barely-there bruise—he wants all of it to be a big deal.

‘yes’ he pouts. it really didn’t, there was an initial sting but now he just wants to drag this out.

‘i’m so sorry, baby’ you say, pressing a sweet apology to where it “hurts”, and another for good measure.

‘okay, so kissing is out’ you cross another off the list. 

‘no, wait, why?!’ you remind him he was just saying how his lip hurts to which he replies ‘but it feels better when you kiss it’ 

you roll your eyes, not able to stop the smile that spreads across your face.

‘i like kissing you’ a sudden confession.

‘i like kissing you too’ you reply as your lips meet again. you kiss as his hands move from your face to find your hand, interlacing fingers; yours move to caress his hair; his find their way back to your waist; then your legs drape over each other, both of you a tangle of limbs. somewhere amidst the many kisses and warm touches, he grabs a throw, placing it over you both, wrapping you in a bubble of comfort. there’s a serene grey hue that fills the room as the overcast skies clear and disappear. 

‘promise me one thing?’ he suddenly pulls away, feeling compelled to complete this thought.

‘mhmn?’

‘promise me you’ll kiss me for the rest our lives?’ he asks, saying incredibly romantic things without so much of a warning. you feel this sudden warmth fill you, all the way down to your toes. 

‘i promise’ you vow, the warm fuzzy feeling now in seungcheol’s chest as you lean back in to seal it with a kiss.

[callsigns-haze]

Oh, How She's Changed...

Pairing: Acotar x reader Warnings: Contains mature themes, including violence, romance, and adult situations. Summary: YN, the immortal descendant of gods, reunites with her friends Rhysand, Cassian, and Azriel at a lavish gathering in the Night Court's grand ballroom. As they reminisce about past adventures and observe the antics of other courtiers, they marvel at YN's transformation from an innocent girl into a captivating woman. However, their reunion is cut short when one of YN's guards arrives to escort her away, leaving Rhysand, Cassian, and Azriel with lingering thoughts and a sense of longing as they watch her depart into the night.

As the evening sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm, golden hue across the Night Court's palace, YN, the immortal descendant of gods, found herself ensconced in a lavish chamber. Intricate tapestries adorned the walls, depicting scenes of ancient battles and celestial beings, while flickering candles bathed the room in a soft, ethereal glow. At the heart of the chamber, YN stood surrounded by the opulent splendour of her surroundings, her gaze drawn to the figures of Mor and Amren bustling around her.

Mor, her fiery locks cascading in loose waves around her shoulders, moved with a grace born of centuries of battle and camaraderie. Dressed in elegant attire befitting her station as a high-ranking member of the Night Court, she approached YN with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. "Well, YN," she said, her voice carrying a note of playful anticipation, "are you ready to grace the fae with your divine presence tonight?"

YN, radiant in her own right, adorned in garments woven from the finest silks and adorned with jewels that shimmered like stars, offered Mor a warm smile. "I hope I can do justice to the legacy of my ancestors," she replied, her voice infused with a hint of humility.

Meanwhile, Amren, the enigmatic being of ancient origins, moved with a fluidity that spoke of eons spent mastering the arcane arts. With a flick of her wrist, she summoned forth threads of celestial magic, weaving enchantments into the fabric of YN's gown. Each stitch pulsed with otherworldly energy, resonating with the divine power that flowed through YN's immortal veins.

"Fear not, YN," Amren reassured her, her voice a melodic echo of distant thunder, "with Mor's impeccable taste and my arcane prowess, you'll be the epitome of divine elegance."

Mor nodded in agreement, her gaze sweeping over YN with an approving smile. "And let's not forget your own innate charm and grace, YN," she added, her eyes alight with pride. "You were born for moments like these."

Grateful for their support and guidance, YN felt a surge of confidence coursing through her veins. "Thank you, both of you," she said, her voice filled with genuine warmth. "I'm grateful to have such wise counsel."

Amren's lips curved into a knowing smile, her eyes glittering with ancient wisdom. "The honour is ours, YN," she replied, her voice carrying the weight of centuries past. "Now, let us ensure that you're prepared for whatever the night may hold."

But as YN caught her reflection in the polished mirror, something stirred within her. Gone was the innocent girl she had always been, replaced by a woman exuding an air of confidence and allure. With a subtle sway of her hips and a coy smile playing upon her lips, she realized that with this new look, she was ready for some spice.

And so, as she stepped out into the night, her heart brimming with anticipation, YN knew that she was not just a descendant of gods, but a force to be reckoned with—a goddess in her own right, ready to conquer whatever challenges lay ahead.

--

In the heart of the Night Court's grand ballroom, the air hummed with the vibrant energy of celebration. The room pulsated with music, the melodies weaving through the throng of fae dancers swirling gracefully across the floor. Amidst the lively festivities, three figures sat at a secluded table, their voices mingling with laughter and camaraderie.

Rhysand, the enigmatic High Lord of the Night Court, reclined in his seat with an easy grace, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. Beside him, Cassian and Azriel, his loyal companions and warriors of the Night Court, shared a toast, their laughter echoing through the hall.

"Another round, gentlemen?" Rhysand suggested, raising his glass in a playful salute.

Cassian grinned, clinking his glass against Rhysand's. "You read my mind, Rhys."

Azriel nodded in agreement, his usually stoic demeanor softened by the warmth of the moment. "To old friends and new beginnings," he said, his voice a low rumble that resonated with quiet strength.

As they sipped their drinks, their conversation turned to memories of times long past. They spoke of battles fought and victories won, of challenges overcome and bonds forged in the crucible of war. And yet, amidst the tales of triumph, there lingered a sense of longing—a yearning for something—or rather, someone—missing from their midst.

"I can't wait to see YN again," Cassian remarked, his eyes alight with anticipation. "It's been far too long since she graced us with her presence."

Rhysand nodded in agreement, a flicker of excitement dancing in his gaze. "Indeed. It will be interesting to see how she's changed over the years."

Azriel's expression softened with a hint of nostalgia. "She was always a force to be reckoned with," he said, his voice tinged with reverence. "I have no doubt that she's only grown stronger with time."

As they spoke of YN, the immortal descendant of gods, their voices filled with a mixture of fondness and admiration. Though separated by distance and time, their bond with her remained unbreakable—a testament to the enduring power of friendship and loyalty.

And so, amidst the revelry of the Night Court, Rhysand, Cassian, and Azriel raised their glasses once more, toasting to the promise of a long-awaited reunion—a moment that would soon bring together old friends and new beginnings in a celebration of life, love, and the enduring bonds that unite them all.

As the night wore on and the revelry reached its peak, the grand ballroom of the Night Court was alive with energy. Fae of all shapes and sizes danced in a whirl of vibrant colors and laughter, their movements reflecting the joy and freedom of the moment.

Amidst the swirling throng, Rhysand, Cassian, and Azriel found themselves drawn into the rhythm of the music, their spirits lifted by the infectious enthusiasm of the crowd. They moved with a fluid grace, their movements a testament to years of training and camaraderie.

As they danced, their thoughts inevitably turned to YN, the immortal descendant of gods they had long considered a dear friend. Memories of their past adventures together flooded their minds, filling them with a sense of nostalgia and longing.

"I remember the first time I met YN," Cassian reminisced, his voice tinged with fondness. "She was like a breath of fresh air—a ray of sunshine in the darkness."

Rhysand chuckled, a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. "Yes, I recall that day well. She certainly knew how to make an entrance."

Azriel nodded in agreement, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. "She was always full of surprises. I have no doubt that tonight will be no different."

As they danced and laughed, their anticipation for YN's arrival grew with each passing moment. They imagined the joy of seeing her again, the warmth of her smile, and the strength of her spirit.

And so, amidst the music and merriment of the Night Court's grand celebration, Rhysand, Cassian, and Azriel continued to dance, their hearts filled with excitement and anticipation for the long-awaited reunion that awaited them. For in that moment, surrounded by friends and allies, they knew that no matter what the future held, they would face it together, united in their bond of friendship and shared experiences.

As the trio continued their animated conversation, a sudden interruption from behind caught them off guard. Before they could react, a voice, once familiar but now tinged with a newfound confidence, sliced through the air.

"Did I hear someone talking about me?" YN's voice teased, laced with amusement and a hint of mischief.

Rhysand, Cassian, and Azriel froze mid-conversation, their heads snapping around to find the source of the interruption. And there, standing before them, was YN—transformed beyond recognition.

Gone was the innocent girl they remembered from years past. In her place stood a woman of breathtaking beauty and undeniable allure. Her hair cascaded in waves of midnight silk, framing a face that radiated with confidence and strength. Every movement she made exuded grace and poise, her eyes sparkling with a newfound fire that sent shivers down their spines.

For a moment, the trio could only stare in stunned silence, their minds struggling to reconcile the image before them with the memories of the girl they once knew. It took them a beat too long to realize that the innocent girl had blossomed into a captivating woman—a realization that nearly caused Azriel to choke on his drink.

Cassian was the first to recover, his trademark grin spreading across his face. "Well, well, well," he exclaimed, his voice filled with playful delight. "Look who decided to grace us with her presence."

Rhysand's eyes sparkled with amusement as he surveyed YN's transformation. "I must say, you clean up rather nicely, YN," he remarked, his tone teasing yet genuine.

Azriel, usually composed and reserved, found himself at a loss for words. He cleared his throat awkwardly, his cheeks flushing faintly as he struggled to regain his composure. "You... uh... look... stunning," he managed to stammer out, his voice barely above a whisper.

YN chuckled at their reactions, a knowing gleam dancing in her eyes. "Why, thank you, gentlemen," she replied, her voice dripping with satisfaction. "I must admit, it's been quite the journey."

As they exchanged pleasantries and caught up on lost time, Rhysand, Cassian, and Azriel couldn't help but marvel at the woman YN had become. And as they continued to bask in the warmth of her presence, they knew that this reunion would mark the beginning of a new chapter—one filled with excitement, adventure, and the enduring bond of friendship that had stood the test of time.

As Rhysand, Cassian, Azriel, and YN retreated to a secluded corner of the ballroom, their conversation took a more relaxed turn. Surrounded by the lively festivities of the Night Court, they observed the arrival of other lords and ladies with a mixture of amusement and mild skepticism.

Rhysand leaned against a pillar, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips as he surveyed the gathering crowd. "Ah, it seems the usual suspects have graced us with their presence," he remarked, his tone laced with a hint of sarcasm.

Cassian chuckled, his eyes scanning the room with a discerning gaze. "Indeed. I see Lord Tarquin has brought his entourage of sycophants," he observed, a bemused expression crossing his features.

Azriel's lips quirked into a wry smile as he watched the various courtiers mingling with practiced charm and false pretenses. "And let's not forget Lady Ianthe, fluttering about like a peacock in heat," he added, his voice dripping with dry humor.

YN, who had been quietly observing the scene, couldn't help but join in their laughter. "It's almost comical, isn't it?" she remarked, a mischievous glint dancing in her eyes. "All this posturing and preening for the sake of appearances."

As they continued to share in their amusement, their conversation turned to lighter topics—old memories, shared experiences, and the absurdities of fae society. They laughed and joked, their camaraderie growing stronger with each passing moment.

But amidst the laughter and light-hearted banter, there was an unspoken understanding—a recognition of the challenges they faced and the dangers that lurked in the shadows. And as they stood together, united in their bond of friendship and shared experiences, they knew that no matter what trials lay ahead, they would face them together, with strength, courage, and a healthy dose of laughter to see them through.

As Rhysand, Cassian, Azriel, and YN observed the arrivals, their conversation took on a slightly more critical tone. They couldn't help but exchange knowing glances and subtle nods of agreement as they assessed the behavior of the other lords and ladies.

"Look at Lord Beron," Rhysand remarked, his voice dripping with disdain as he gestured towards a particularly pompous nobleman. "Does he ever tire of hearing himself talk?"

Cassian snorted in amusement, his eyes following Rhysand's gesture. "I doubt it," he replied, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "He's too enamored with the sound of his own voice."

Azriel, ever the silent observer, watched with a keen eye as the various courtiers vied for attention and favor. "And what about Lord Eris?" he mused, his tone tinged with skepticism. "Does he ever tire of playing his little games?"

YN nodded in agreement, her gaze narrowing slightly as she observed Lord Eris' calculating smile. "He's always been one for manipulation and intrigue," she remarked, her voice tinged with a hint of disdain. "But I doubt he'll find much success here tonight."

As they continued to pass judgment on the behavior of their fellow courtiers, Rhysand, Cassian, Azriel, and YN found themselves sharing in a sense of camaraderie born of mutual understanding. They may have been outsiders in the eyes of some, but together, they formed a formidable alliance—one built on trust, loyalty, and a shared disdain for the superficiality and pretense that often permeated fae society.

And as they stood together, laughing and jesting in their secluded corner of the ballroom, they knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, they would face them with unwavering resolve and the unbreakable bond of friendship that bound them together.

As the night wore on, the revelry continued to swell around them, but amidst the celebration, a hushed murmur reached YN's ears. Turning slightly, she saw one of her guards approaching, his demeanor serious and resolute.

Excusing herself from the conversation with Rhysand, Cassian, and Azriel, YN turned to face her guard. His presence reminded her of the responsibilities that came with her divine lineage—the duties and obligations that often weighed heavily upon her shoulders.

With a nod of understanding, YN bid farewell to her companions, offering each of them a warm smile and a promise to meet again soon. Rhysand, Cassian, and Azriel returned her smile, their expressions filled with a mixture of fondness and admiration.

As YN began to make her way towards the exit, the trio watched her go, their eyes following her with a mixture of awe and longing. It was impossible not to notice how she had changed—the way she carried herself with a newfound confidence, the subtle shift in her demeanor that spoke of experiences and challenges faced.

"She's grown into quite the remarkable woman, hasn't she?" Rhysand remarked, his voice tinged with a hint of pride.

Cassian nodded in agreement, his gaze never leaving YN's retreating figure. "Indeed. She's like a jewel—radiant and untouchable."

Azriel remained silent, his eyes fixed on YN with a depth of emotion that spoke volumes. He had always felt a special connection to her—a bond forged in the crucible of shared experiences and unspoken understanding. And as he watched her disappear into the night, a sense of longing stirred within him—a yearning to be by her side, to protect her and guide her through the challenges that lay ahead.

As YN disappeared from view, Rhysand, Cassian, and Azriel turned back to the festivities, their thoughts lingering on the woman who had captured their hearts and inspired their admiration. For in that moment, they knew that no matter where their paths may lead, their bond with YN would remain unbreakable—a beacon of light in the darkness, guiding them through the trials and tribulations of the fae realm.

Tagging some:

@callsign-magnolia

@shanimallina87

@kmc1989

@djs8891

@hardballoonlove

@callsign-dexter

@mamachasesmayhem

@senawashere

@hookslove1592

@rosiahills22

[little-annie]

Catching up on my @strangerthingswritersguild prompts today

T (Mentions of blood and dying) | WC 711 | Steddie

Like wildfire above, the sky dances in the colour of flames between the blackened clouds. Bright and blinding with every flash of lightning and every strike of energy into the ground. The thunder rolls and the monsters roar and where flesh was ripped from bone, Eddie burns.

“Look at me.”

A voice comes faintly through the constant whorl in Eddie's ears. Bat wings, and screeching, screaming cries from Satan's own spawn.

The fuckers.

He'll die because of them.

“Eddie, god dammit look at me.”

That same voice breaks into his consciousness again, though with this time accompanied by a strong jerking grip to Eddie's jaw. With force his head is turned and his gaze is pulled away from the blackness it'd been staring into. 

Somehow, some time he was moved from the heap of gore that was himself and a pile of Demobats that surrounded him. No longer laying in a pool of his own blood, but now prompt upright with the bite of bark to his back and the dampness of a forest floor beneath him.

In front of him is the bruised, battered and bloody face of Steve Harrington.

Even in his dying moments Eddie thinks Steve's beautiful.

“You're going to be okay.”

And delusional apparently.

There's no way he's going to be okay. 

Eddie accepted as much, what felt like hours ago.

He'll die here in hell and they'll leave him here to rot. 

It'll be better that way.

Less dead-weight to lug around and drag through whatever portal they can manage to find.

At least Steve's hazel eyes are the last thing he'll see.

The grip on his jaw squeezes tighter and Steve repeats himself giving Eddie's head a small, sharp shake. “You're going to be okay.”

Eddie wheezes a breath and his lungs feel weak.

“You ever had stitches before?” Steve asks 

Furrowing his brow, Eddie nods, thinking of that time he was dicking around in the scrap yard and ended up catching his leg on a stray piece of metal.

“Good.” Steve nods, “Good. I'm going to stitch you up, okay?”

Eddie's about to protest, but thinks it's pointless, a waste breath just as the stitches will be a waste of perfectly good medical equipment.

They don't need to use it on him.

He's still looking at Steve. Watching the way his eyes roam and his nose scrunches and the gash above his brow continues to bleed. 

His eyes look glassy.

“Tell me.” Steve says, begs nearly, “Come on. Say it. Say, ‘I'll be okay.’”

Those beautiful hazel eyes search Eddie's with a sort of desperation. 

God he can't lie to Steve.

He can't bear to disappoint him either.

With a cough and a sputter, Eddie wheezes, tries his fucking hardest to do as Steve says.

“I-” he coughs up what he's sure is blood, reaching forward to brace himself holding Steve's wrist, “I'll… be okay.”

Staring at Eddie's lips for much longer than necessary, Steve grits his teeth and without so much as a breath of notice Eddie feels Steve's lips crashing into his.

It's fast and urgent. Tasting of copper and the spoils of war.

But it too gives Eddie a goddamn will to live.

He tries to lean into the sensation even more but quickly Steve pulls away, replacing his lips what to Eddie's tongue feels like a fucking stick.

What the fuck?

“Bite.” Steve instructs, harsh and demanding, digging in a backpack that's been thrown down by his side.

Soon enough there's what looks to be alcohol, and needle and thread in Steve's one hand.

*Bite* Eddie remembers, feeling the warmth of his own drool pool around the stick in his mouth. 

*Bite*

Responding to Eddie's silence Steve looks up. “Harder.” He instructs, “It's going to hurt and we don't need you screaming so loud that whatever the fuck is out there can find us.”

He wants to ask about the kiss. The there and gone press of Steve's lips to his own. Mostly he just wants to know why. Why now? Why him? Why in the hell here of all places?

But Eddie bites down harder instead.

He can ask those questions later.

He'll be okay.

Steve reminds him of as much again as the first stitch pierces his skin.