#and you can see how much power he has at his fingertips

[carrion-art]

If a portrayal of Darth Vader doesn't make me shit myself out of fear I don't want it

[eddiesxangel]

Amorem | E.M

Cw: you’re tired of being alone, so you cast a spell to find love. 7.3k words, witch!f!reader x Eddie, magic, fluff, mild angst, smut, unprotected sex, creampie.

“I just feel so lonely.” You sigh.

Robin, Nancy, Max, and Joyce, all collectively nod their heads as you’re all gathered at the Coven house. They can’t help but feel a small amount of pity, they have all found their partners. You’re the last witch standing.

“What about the amorem enchantment?” Joyce, the coven mother suggested. 

She is a wise witch, the townspeople call her eccentric, however she is very knowledgeable when it comes to the craft. 

“That seemed a bit desperate” you sigh. 

“You’re a beautiful witch in your prime, it is time to find your match before it is too late.” Joyce points out.

It is very unfortunate when a witch loses their match due to natural selection because there is a very small window to do something about it. 

The supernatural forces are lenient to keep your human longer than their body allows if you claim them in time. It only works if the match is in their mid-twenties. No one knows why, but it is when you need to act. You’re already in your twenty-fifth year, you can’t push it any longer.

With a sigh of defeat you begrudgingly agree that it was what has to be done.

“Ego invocabo Freyja ad auxilium me invenire amorem” your chant starts softly. Alone at your altar, deep in the meadow with the wildflowers and dew. Your altar is set up against a weeping willow with all you have gathered for your enchantment. 

Amorem enchantments, or love enchantments, are a powerful thing. The magic cannot make someone fall in love with you; that’s not how it works. The magic is to draw the source of love towards you, to help guide the individuals together.

You think of your ideal partner- charismatic, funny, loyal, trustworthy, doting, physical, handsome, artistically inclined, and imaginative. All of those things race on your mind as you chant.

You can feel your magic building. The warmth builds in the depth of your chest and spreads through your arms to your fingertips as you continue the chant. 

“Ego invocabo Freyja ad auxilium me invenire amorem. Dea amoris, adiuva me invenire unum, dea amoris, invocabo Freyja ad auxilium me invenire amorem. Ego invocabo Freyja ad auxilium me invenire amorem” 

The moon is at its highest, the wind is whistling. “Ego invocabo Freyja ad auxilium me invenire amorem. Adiuva me invenire unum, dea amoris, adiuva me invenire unum dea amoris, adiuva me invenire unum ego. One last final chant and it was complete.

You feel a soft brush against your hand. Looking down, you smile at the little ball of fluff—Clover, your familiar. She is a calico rabbit you’ve had since your magic presented itself at eight years of age. 

You glamour your altar so no one would disrupt it- not that anyone comes out here, but you can never be too careful keeping the witches' secret….

A few miles away, tucked up in bed was a man, unbeknownst to him, whose life was about to change.  

Eddie isn’t too sure why he is here. He was in his apartment strumming, trying to find the right chords, when he had a sudden urge to go out. Where? He didn’t know, but if he didn’t, his gut told him he would miss out on something… something big.

Now he’s found himself in this kitschy store next to Melvald’s. He’s never noticed or paid much attention to it, but he found himself pulled up in front of it and being drawn in. 

The wind chimes let you know that a potential customer has entered your little shop whilst you are in the back sorting stock, so you poke your head out to see who’s arrived 

“Let me know if you need anything” you politely say before seeing who was there. 

“Uh… thanks” You see the man scratch his head looking clueless until his eyes meet yours. 

“Oh. Hi,” you step out when you realize who is in your presence.

Eddie Munson, of all people. 

“Hey,” he awkwardly waves. 

You haven’t seen him since you graduated high school, nearly seven years ago. You had heard he was held back a few times, but you hadn’t given him a second thought. 

“Let me know if you’re looking for something specific, I can help you out,” you smile and try and act busy. 

When he turns his back you can’t help but observe him as he searches the shelves. 

“What kind of place is this?” He looks over his shoulder.

“Well we are called Mystic Apothecary, what do you think?” You raise a brow biting back a snarky giggle, the touches of sarcasm rolling off your tongue. 

“Ah,” he nods and continues browsing. 

You curse yourself for being snarky. This is a potential customer, you need to be more approachable.

“So that makes you? What? A Sorceress?” He smirks and you can’t help but blush. 

“You could say that.” 

Eddie spends about ten minutes browsing and picking up little trinkets and other items before bringing them to your counter. 

“Looks like someone wants to get into spell work,” you smile. He has a pentagram pendant, a tapestry, some empty spell jars, so pre filled spell jars, a black obsidian tower, and a cauldron.

“Uh-I needed some props” 

“Props, huh?” Your pointed aubergine nails clack on the register keys to input the prices. 

“I play this game, it’s silly.” He shrugs. 

Eddie wasn’t sure why he was being so bashful. He’s always been so proud to be himself, so why is he nervous in front of you? 

He semi-remembers you from school. You were more subdued and kept to yourself or your girl group. Everyone called you guys the Hawkins Coven, not that you were actually witches, but now he is rethinking that…

It also doesn’t escape him that you’re really pretty—like otherworldly pretty. He was really digging your style. Your peasant skirt and half corset are really doing it for him; very ren fair of you. 

“So, is this like your uniform, or do you always dress like this?”  Where did that come from? Eddie curses himself, but you just giggle.

“Why? You want one for yourself?” You smirk. 

“What? You don’t think I could pull it off?” 

“You would look lovely” 

“Thank you, my lady” he curtseyed. 

This made you giggle some more. This interaction was cute flirty and fun. You have never spoken to him this much, who knew he was so charming? 

“Thanks for shopping.” You pass him his goodies in a paper bag. 

“I guess I’ll see you around?” 

“Yeah,” you smile. 

You release a breath you didn’t know you were holding once the chimes for the door let you know Eddie was out of the store. 

What the Hecate was that?

Clover hops over onto the counter giving you a knowing look. 

“No… you don’t think?” 

She twitches her nose. 

“You’re crazy”  

She stomps her little back foot and you roll your eyes. 

“Let’s see.”

Days passed without any interaction with Eddie, until today. While at the food court with the coven, Max caught sight of Lucas, her boyfriend, sitting with his friends. As you approached their table, you unfortunately stumbled after stepping on your bootlace. With a small squeal, you found yourself tripping and falling onto someone's lap. 

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry!" you exclaimed.

Looking up, you noticed a smirk on his face as he replied,

"Not every day I have a pretty girl falling into my lap." Your cheeks flushed with heat as you realized it was Eddie Munson.

Quickly regaining your composure, you got up, apologized once more, and walked away.

“Pretty, huh? Anything come of the Amorem Enchantment?” Max asks as the group of you walk away. 

“I’m, not sure. Clover thinks she has it all figured out on who it is but I’m skeptical”  

“Okay” you see Max give the others a knowing look but you bite your tongue. You don’t want to jump to conclusions.

The next day, you and Robin are out running errands, preparing for the upcoming full moon in a few days. Your coven always gathers during the highest point of the moon to draw magic from the earth, strengthening your bond and powers. It's like recharging a battery; it's not necessary, as magic never fades, but it can lie dormant if not utilized correctly.

"Hey, isn't that Munson?" Robin acknowledges, catching your attention. Surprised to see him again so soon, after seven years of not crossing paths, now encountering him for the third time in 2 weeks. "I suppose it is," you respond.

"I hardly see him," Robin remarks, her tone implying something you don't appreciate. 

"And?" you question, raising an eyebrow.

"And nothing," she replies in a defensive tone. 

"Has Brutus been talking to Clover?" you ask, disliking the familiars' gossiping habits.

"I'm not a snitch," Robin retorts, prompting you to roll your eyes. 

Her owl never seems to know when to stay quiet.

"Are you stalking me, Sorceress?" Eddie startles you as he approaches from behind. "Going to fall for me again?" he teases, making you clear your throat. 

Eddie seems unsure why he left the shop. That feeling of being drawn to a particular place during his lunch break, was gnawing that the back of his head, which led him straight to you.

"Damn, Munson, creeping up on all the ladies?" Robin scolds, to which Eddie replies, 

"Nah, just Sorceress here," tilting his head as you feel a blush rising on your cheeks.

“Sorceress, huh?” Robin raises her brows at you. 

“He came to the Apothecary.” You defend. 

“Uh-huh,” she nods and smiles. Only confirming Clover and Brutus’ accusations. 

“Yep, well we better get going. Joyce is waiting. Good to see you.” You grab Robin and take off before Eddie can ask you what he’s been wanting to do since yesterday.

The Halloween Fall festival is usually your favourite event of the year. However this year you’ve been working more than enjoying the festivities. You’ve been in the tent most of the day, doing tarot readings and “fortune telling.” You’re exhausted and about to close up when a deep voice catches your attention.

“Guys I’m not doing it, it’s dumb.” 

“Too bad you lost the bet now go in there!” A younger-sounding guy demands. 

“It’s all hocus poc- woah” The man is pushed into view and you can’t believe your luck when it’s Eddie.

“All a bunch of Hocus Pocus, huh?”

Of course, he would be a non-believer. 

“Flip that sign to say Closed for me would ya?” You ask whilst shuffling the deck for hopefully the last time today.

“You trying to get me alone or something,” Eddie suggests but you ignore it. 

“Sit.” 

“Yes ma’am” Eddie smirks, pulling out the chair. 

With a big sigh, you shuffle the deck with your eyes closed. 

“What is it you want to know?” 

“Uh…” 

“A general reading it is. Fifteen dollars.” You motion to the glass jar and he scrambles to put the cash in. 

You feel that the cards are aligned so you go ahead a pull. The six cards are placed face down between you and Eddie. 

“Ready?” You smirk. 

“I guess.” He shrugs.

You flip the first card. 

“Chariot in Reverse. You feel like there is a lack of direction in your life. Like you’re on the right path but maybe a little lost. Like you took the wrong turn down the road.”

You flip the second card.

“Death.”

Eddie looks up at you. He looks scared, but you giggle.

“It’s not literal, it means new beginnings, change, metamorphosis. Like you’re finally finding your path.” You look up at him through your lashes and he lets out the breath he was holding in. 

“The lovers” you continue with a gulp and flip the next card, The Eight of Stars.

“There is hope for a new relationship forming.” You continue to flip the fifth card and of course, it’s The Empress.

“More growth and beauty to enter into this new relationship. “

“How do you know it’s new?” Eddie interrupts. 

This catches you off guard. It’s not like you can come out a say ‘I cast a love enchantment and you’re the only one who is consistently popping up in my life.’

“I’m a fortune teller. Duh” 

This makes Eddie giggle and relax a bit more, so you continue to the final card. 

“The Devil.” You sigh, and Eddie’s eyes blow wide again with wonder.

“It’s because I’m the town Satanist, isn’t it?” He accuses.

Once again you ignore him and continue.

“This relationship will be addictive, lustrous, seductive. You won’t be able to keep your hands off one another. You’re both going to fall and fall hard” Your eyes are locked in on one another. You want to look away but you can’t, you think he feels it too, the pull… 

When did you start leaning into one another? Your faces are so close, just a centimetre more and- you pull back immediately as the sound of the timer makes you both jump. 

“Well, times up thanks for coming” You stand and rush him out. 

“What? That’s it?” 

“Yep. Have fun at the festival!” You close the curtain in front of him before he can say another word. 

Eddie can’t believe what has just happened. He stood there awestruck but also very confused. 

“Dude, what happened?” Eddie’s friend Jeff shakes him. 

“Uh,” he scratches the back of his head “I have no fucking idea.” Eddie looked back over his shoulder at the tent but there was no movement at all. 

The situation with Eddie was consuming your day-to-day. Weeks have passed since the festival, and all you thought about was him. You finally are coming to terms that the enchantment is what is leading the two of you together, why deny it?

Eddie and you haven’t bumped into one another since the Halloween Festival and it’s been eating at you. After the tarot reading you realized you shouldn’t have pushed him away like that. What if you had scared him off? The magic can only do so much. 

Instead of moping around your house after work, hoping you bump into him. You decided to go to the grocery store strolling for some spices, your arsenal had been dwindling. 

Drifting off in your own little world, you hum with your headphones on as you try and reach for the cinnamon, of course, at the very back on the top shelf, you try and get it. You reach and reach on your highest tip toes looking like a fool, unable to use a summoning spell in public you curse whoever built these deep shelves. Just as you were about to look around to see if the coast was clear enough to use a little unharmful magic, you see a bare arm decorated with bats come from behind you grabbing the cinnamon sticks. 

“Hey do you mind-“ but you stop mid-sentence when they drop their hand down signalling for you to take it. 

“Thanks” You turn to see your knight in shining armour. Eddie.

“No big deal” he smiles. It’s a good smile. You observe him, losing focus you let down your guard. 

Eddie’s eyes widen with shock and you instantly put your guard back up. Your eyes must have given it away…

“You okay?” He asks placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. 

“Yeah,” you laugh it off, “why wouldn’t I be?” 

“Your eyes… they uh… they looked pink”

Pink?! Pink of all things! You mentally scold yourself.

“Oh uh. My contacts make your eyes irritated sometimes.” You play it cool… but Eddie and you both knew your irises were what changed colour, not the whites. 

“Uh-Hu” he nods, totally trying to not be freaked out, but also a little turned on? 

“Um,” you stand in awkward silence for half a minute. “Thank you for the help” You motion to the cinnamon and turn on your heel. 

“Wait!” He grazes your elbow now holding on too tight. 

“Can we, uh- I um.” He curses under his breath, “Would you like to go out with me?” He almost shouts and you. “Sorry. That was. You don’t have to…I just thought-“ 

“Eddie!” you cut him off.

He pauses realizing he never gave you a second to answer.

“I would love to.” You smile. Trying extra hard to stay focused because you know your eyes are a deep magenta under the glamour you hold. 

“Great! Okay,” he claps his hands together. “I‘ll call you!” He gestures his hand to make a phone by his ear and starts to walk away. 

“Wait! You don’t have my number!” You giggle. 

“Oh right,” he mentally scolds himself shaking his head shyly. 

After you gave Eddie your number, you cast a little memory spell just in case he misplaces the paper, (only for insurance purposes) did you make your way to Robin’s place. 

“Pink!” Robin screams.

“Keep your voice down!” 

Robin totally knew from the beginning that Eddie was the one you summoned. She was excited for you! She knows what love can bring to a person’s life. She and Nancy are lucky to experience it together, and she just wants you to be as happy as they are. 

“You got it B-A-D” she spells out. 

“I do not! I don’t even know him!”

“Pinnnnnnk” she leans in.

“Ugh.” You throw your hands up in defeat and you feel Clover snuggle herself into your lap. 

“Yeah, yeah, you were right.” You pet Clover's back. 

“So now what?” 

“He asked me out” You can’t help but smile, 

“Oh!” Robin points at you again. “Pink!”  She points at you. “I’m talking P-I-N-K!”

You never use your glamour around the coven because why would you? Your emotions could be read from a mile away. 

“What are you guys going to do?”

“I’m not sure, guess we wait to see where the magic takes us”

Nervously, you mix a soothing tonic to ease your racing heart. Deep down, you know that the fates have intertwined your paths for a reason... He feels like the one, yet the mystery surrounding him is overwhelming. This uncertainty fuels your anxiety.

This is the final first date you’ll ever experience, the last time you’ll open your heart to someone new. And for the first time, it feels as if everything is aligning perfectly. But lurking in the back of your mind is the daunting truth that you’ll eventually need to reveal your not-so-little secret.

What if he’s frightened by who you really are? What if he can’t accept it?

The thought of erasing his memories and losing the love of your life is almost too much to bear.

Getting ahead of yourself, lost in thought your attention is checked back into reality when your doorbell rings. With a beep breath, you answer the door. Stood there on your wooden porch was Eddie, looking so handsome. His hair was freshly washed, his shirt freshly ironed and tucked into his pants. He held a bouquet of small purple daisies and a nervous smile. 

“Woah,” he spoke as you opened the door. “You look incredible.” 

“Thank you, and so do you” You feel your cheeks fill with heat, and you pay extra attention to the glamour for your eyes. 

“Shall we?”

“Let’s” You hook your arm in his and he leads the way. 

“So where are you taking me?” You ask as you strap yourself in. 

“I wasn’t sure what you liked, other than witchy stuff” he blushed, “so I thought it was safe to go to the Christmas market.” 

That you were not expecting, and unfortunately for Eddie, he could read it in your face 

“Oh, god, you hate it. I swore all girls love Christmas-“

“No Eddie it’s sweet, it’s just I don’t celebrate Christmas. Well I do, but it’s not what you would think. We, my friends and I, celebrate Yule. It’s Pagan.” 

“Pagan,” He hums to himself, “that’s badass.” 

This makes you giggle, and Eddie sighs with relief that you’re not annoyed at him. 

“There are a lot of Pagan holidays that the Christians stole from us and made their own, but I don’t want to bore you with the details.” You wave your hand dismissively. 

“No, I’d love to learn.” He looks at you earnestly. 

“You sure? I kind of ruined your plans, I still don’t mind going! I do love a good gingerbread cookie and hot chocolate.” You smile. 

“You sure?” 

“I am!” 

“I’m honoured, Sorceress” he smiles and puts his truck into drive.

You had an expectedly wonderful time at the Christmas festival, all thanks to Eddie. He made sure you were snug and warm, wrapping you up so the chill wouldn’t bite. As soon as you stepped through the gates, he treated you to hot chocolate and a gingerbread man.

The two of you shared endless laughter while attempting to ice skate, your conversations flowing effortlessly. Hours slipped by, and before you knew it, your toes were numb, signalling it was time to head home.

Parting ways felt bittersweet; you longed to keep the conversation going all night, but deep down, you knew that would be too much for a first date. The bond you shared was unlike anything you had ever experienced, and it was clear Eddie felt it, too. You could almost see the enchanting connection that drew you together, like shimmering golden dust swirling in the air, creating an invisible thread that linked your hearts.

As Eddie bid you goodnight, he bravely leaned in for a gentle kiss. It was like time stopped, all the puzzle pieces had failed into place. Even it if it was chaste, it was sweet and tender, and you could sense his nervousness, but you let him take his time, savouring the moment. A broad smile spread across your face, silently assuring him that you felt the same spark he did. 

“I’ll call you.” he winks as he walks down the dirt driveway.

You pray to Hecate he does. 

You’ve lost count of the amount of dates you and Eddie have been on. It’s been almost three months and you couldn’t be happier, but the anxiety of telling him about who you are has been clawing at the back of your mind and it needs to be soon. Joyce had warned you that if you don’t take action within the next few weeks then the window of opportunity will be sealed forever. 

It seemed too soon like you were rushing into it. You hadn’t even said I love you, and yet you were expecting him to agree to a life of immortality with you?

Tonight, you had built up the courage to tell him about yourself. You invited Eddie over to your place. He has been here many times, but you glamoured most of the house to look somewhat normal. You hid your runes and sigils that were carved into your door frames, your potions room was made to look like a dining room, and your altar was locked away in the basement.  

But tonight all of that would be revealed, hopefully, it would be a small amount of magic that would t make him go running for the hills. 

As you looked around one last time, you heard Eddie approach the door. 

With a deep breath, you feel Clover rub against your leg for reassurance. 

“Thanks, babe.” You pick her up and open the door to see Eddie with his hand in a fist, like he was about to knock. 

“How do you always do that” he smiles pulling you in for a kiss. You’re not sure how but he always makes your head spin with even the simplest of kisses. 

“Call it intuition…” 

You guide him into the kitchen and offer him a drink. He asked for a beer, and as you pour it into a glass, you may or may not have slipped a drop of that relaxing tonic you conjured up into it, just for insurance purposes. 

“Mmm thank you, babe” Eddie smiles and you giggle at the a beer foam moustache on his face.

“What? Do I have something on my face?” You lean in a kiss it away. 

“There, all better.” You lean back up to fix yourself a drink, a strong one. 

You’re unusually quiet as the night goes on, and Eddie can sense something is up. 

“You okay sweetheart?” He pushes your hair behind your shoulder as you both are curled up on the couch. 

“Yea… it’s just. I have to tell you something, and I’m not sure how you’re going to take it.” You twiddle with your almost empty glass in hand. 

“You can tell me anything, you know that? Eddie’s reassurance wasn’t helping, but it was nice that he truly thought that.

You take a big, deep breath in, trying to think back to how you rehearsed your lines in your head, and you begin.

“I want you to know that I care about you a lot.” You don’t miss Eddie’s eyes light up as you continue, “and I know what I am about to share is not what you’re going to expect, but you have to believe me that it changes nothing.” You look him deep in the eyes. 

“You’re freaking me out, babe.” He laughs nervously, so you take both his hands in yours. 

“It’s nothing bad, I promise.” 

He chuckles uncomfortably once again.

“I’m not… like… other women.” 

“No, you are not.” He wiggles his brows trying to lighten the mood.” 

“Eddieeee” you draw out his name, “I’m serious.” 

“Sorry, I‘ll be a good boy… for now.” You can’t help but roll your eyes.

Eddie laughs at your dramatics, but when your eyes roll back, making eye contact with him, he notices they’re not the same colour. They’re deep orange, almost auburn. 

“Sweetheart, what’s going on” he tries to pull his hands away but you hold them tight.

“I told you, baby, I’m not like other women, I’m… different.” You thought letting the glamour of your eyes would help soften the blow but now you’re not so sure. 

“Your eyes! They.. they’re orange!” 

Eddie can’t look away, his face contorted with confusion. 

“It’s because I’m anxious.” 

“What does that mean?” He can’t look away. “Please, I want to understand.” 

It wasn’t like he was scared more confused than anything. 

“I’m a Witch, Eddie.” And with that you let the house revert to how it is supposed to be. 

A guest of wind blew through the house and with it was unveiled the old wood, deep rich jewel tones painted on the walls, tapestries, the portraits of old coven members long gone, the broom sweeping by itself, the clean dishes being levitated to their correct spots.

Eddie was frozen, his jaw was moving up and down but no words were coming out. He looked around the changed room frantically but also did not want to look away from you. It’s not that he thought you would hurt him, no. He felt things for you that he’s never felt for one singular person… but now he isn’t so sure. 

“This is insane” Eddie stood and your heart broke a little as you saw him start walking. Almost running to the door. 

“Eddie, please! Let me explain! Don’t be scared!”

“Don’t be scared?! There is a broom moving by itself” he shouts. 

“Please” you beg but it was of no use. 

“Just, give me a second” he spoke before slamming the door behind him he leaves you alone in your big empty house. 

Your eyes well up as you feel clover brush your ankles. Nudging you towards the door. 

She was telling you to go after him, but how could you? You terrified him, your worst fears coming to reality. 

“Clove, I can’t” 

Yes, you can. She spoke to you telepathically. 

As your familiar nudged you with her fluffy little head you stepped closer and closer toward the door. 

Through the stained glass you could see a figure pacing up and down the dirt driveway. 

“He didn’t leave” you whispered out loud. 

See, you look down and Clover is eying you. 

You decided to put the glamour back up, in case your eyes still freaked him out. 

“Eddie” you call out tentatively. 

“Babe, just… I need a minute” his breathing was heavy, his face contorted with confusion and he was mumbling to himself. 

To think you’re the crazy one in this situation…

On the bright side, he still called you babe, and not by your name. 

“Okay,” you stand awkwardly on the porch and wait for him to calm down.

After what felt like hours Eddie built up the courage to glance at you. His heart fluttered at the sight of you. Not because he was scared or nervous but because he knew you were it for him. Even after he digested the bomb you just dropped on him, he knew he wanted to be with you. 

“You are one freaky girl” he pointed as he walked towards the porch steps.

“I thought you liked freaky” You can’t help but flirt. It came so naturally to him. 

“You have no idea” he pulled you in for a hug. A suffocating, bone-crushing hug. One that told you he wasn’t going anywhere. 

“Ok let’s talk,” he pulled away and you led him back in the house. 

You started from the beginning, explaining the coven, how your parents were also magical, but had been off gallivanting through the Betwixed realm for years now. 

“So, are you like 100 years old?” He smirks, and you smack his bicep. 

“No, I’m exactly how old I told you I am” 

“Sorry,” he laughed. 

You explain how the magic works, and he asks you if you’ve ever used any on him. 

“The only thing I have used in you is a tonic to calm you but it obviously didn’t work. Guess I needed more for you,” you half laugh to yourself. 

“That’s it? Really?” 

“Technically, yes.” you pause. and he waits silently for you to explain. “I performed an enchantment to find you.” You twiddle the hem of your skirt nervously. 

“Oh?”

“It wasn’t you, specifically, more like a nudge to point us both in the right direction.”

“So that’s why I had that feeling to go somewhere and I hadn’t known why? That’s why I walked into your shop!” He snapped his fingers as he put the pieces together.

“Yeah,” you smile. 

“So you desperately wanted me?” He moved closer, inviting your space. 

“Desperate?” You gasp.

“Yes, little Witch” he placed a gentle finger on your chin, nudging you to look at him. 

“We would have found one another eventually, it was written in the starts. Isn’t that what your cards told us?” 

“But we are running out of time” you confess. 

“What?” Eddie pulled back.

“There is this… rule, I guess you could call it? If a witch finds a mortal match, then they only have a small window to perform a ritual to make their loved one immortal, like them.” 

“Immortal?” 

“Yes, Eddie.” You sigh, “I can live forever if I want. We have life-extending magic, I don’t age the same. Our aging slows down as of the twentieth year of a witch’s life. I will look like this for the next sixty-five years probably.”

“Woah” Eddie whispers. 

“And the thought of us going through life together with you growing old and dying.” You choke back tears. 

“Hey, hey” Eddie soothed, and you took a deep breath. 

“But there is something we can do.” You sniffle. 

“I know it’s so soon, and a bit crazy. But I can promise you forever with me if that’s what you choose” 

Eddie’s eyes widen at the offering, “you don’t have to give me an answer now, but I will need to know soon, maybe a month or so.” 

“Then what?”

“Then I perform the ritual, or I wipe your memory clean of any of this” You can’t help your voice from cracking. 

“Oh,” Eddie looks down in disappointment. 

“Yeah….” A single purple tear falls down your cheek. 

You look up at Eddie and he sees your eyes are a deep blue, so blue Eddie knows what that feeling means. Sadness, despair, suffering. 

“So I live forever with you, or we break up?” 

“Yeah,” you sombrely nod your head. 

“What if I choose to live forever then, let’s say in a hundred years we decide to break up… then what?”

“That won’t happen, it doesn’t work like that.” 

“How do you know?” 

“The fates decided Eddie. When I cast the Amorem enchantment it draws the best two people suited for one another. Think of it like a soul mate match. We will never find another one suited for us.”

“What if I just want to live a normal life with you and not be immortal?” 

“Then I’m going to look like this and you’ll be a wrinkled old prune… and eventually I would watch you die and know that I’ll never have another love like ours.” 

“That dosen’t seem any better.” He sighs

“No, it’s much worse actually” You play with Eddie’s fingers as he contemplates his future. 

“I think I’m going to need something a bit stronger than this beer” he laughs half heartedly. 

“I have just the thing” 

After you whipped up a mood-boosting elixir, your night with Eddie became much easier to get through. The damper had been lifted as you and Eddie got drunk off the potion, boosting your serotonin levels. 

Eddie had never been so carefree and you were begging to feel much more positive about your future with Eddie. Maybe it was false hope in the fates, but you also trusted your magic. 

“Can I ask you something?” Eddie and you were in your bed, tucked in after a long night of just wanting to be close to each other.

“Sure” Eddie scoops you into his chest. 

“Are mermaids real? Because I would love to— ouch!” 

“Don’t even think about finishing that sentence” you had pinched his nipple. Were you jealous? Maybe a little, but mermaids were vile creatures, nothing like Disney cracked them up to be. 

“Are they real?” Eddie flinched. 

“Unfortunately” 

“Cool!”

“What about Vampires?”

“Yep.”

“Werewolves?”

“Yep.”

“Unicorns?”

“Come on Eddie don’t be ridiculous” you snort.

“What? So witches, vampires, mermaids and werewolves are all real but the universe draws the line at unicorns?!” 

You burst out into a fit of giggles and before Eddie can even stop to think about what he is staying the words come tumbling out. 

“God, I love you.”  

The room falls quiet, no longer are you laughing. 

“I uh- I mean-“

“I love you, too” You lean down to kiss him. 

That nearly invisible force connecting you was now clear as day, to you at least. The magical pull that binds the two of you is now completed, and will never be broken. 

A faint glow filled the room as Eddie and your lips connected, a warmth was felt throughout your whole body, you were sure Eddie felt it too. The magical thread that connected you, whether Eddie accepted the fates or not… even if you wiped his memory of you, you both would still be able to feel it. No matter how long or how far apart you were. 

“Really? You love me?” Eddie asks. 

“I just asked you to spend forever with me, and you’re questioning if I love you?” 

“I just wanted to hear you say it again.” His lips brushed yours ever so slightly. 

“I love you, Eddie Munson” 

“I love you, little Witch.”

You let down your guard, the magic swirled in flecks of silver and gold light around the two of you as you lay on top of Eddie’s chest. His eyes widen at the sight above him. You were the most beautiful thing he had ever encountered. 

“Woah” he gasped, awestruck at the floating lights. “I think I could get used to this magic thing”

You let out a breath you weren’t aware you were holding. Like a weight was lifted once you heard Eddie’s acceptance. Finally, you felt hopeful about your future. 

It’s been a week and a half since your confession to Eddie and things are going surprisingly well. His fascination is ever-growing as he keeps coming up with questions to ask you. The nature of your reality was sinking in, he was enamoured with the thought of you being supernatural. He wanted to learn, and you were happy to teach you were happy he accepted you for who you are and not pushing you away from fear. 

You hadn’t brought up the offer since that night, you were waiting for him to let you know his decision,  but you were hopeful because of his fascination. 

Today was a lazy day, you both have the rare day off at the same time, so Eddie was over and you were cuddling on the couch when he spoke up.

“I want to do it.”

“Do what, babe?”

“Forever with you.”

“Really?” a broad smile spreads across your face. nothing could keep you from your eyes turning yellow. 

Eddie still wasn’t quite used to all your magical quirks. However, he loved that your true mood could be read just by looking into your eyes. He loved learning what each colour meant, especially when they were red. 

“Really.” Eddie gave you a chaste kiss before pulling away to ask how the whole spell thing worked. 

“I think you’re going to like it.” You smirk knowingly.

Sometime later, you were finally finished downstairs in your altar room. The circle of protection chalked on the floor. The muddled herbs, bark and flowers boiled down into a paste, and your grimour propped open onto the spell you needed. 

The room was only lit by candlelight, twenty or so, spread across the room. 

You reach for Eddie’s hand and guide him down the stairs. 

“You must be sure this is one hundred percent what you want. It will not work if you are not willing to give up your mortality.”

“I’ve never been so sure about anyone.” 

“Okay, let us begin” You smirk, knowing Eddie has no idea what he is getting himself into. 

“Strip, please” 

“Oh,” he raises a brow. Then he sees it. Your red eyes. “Ohhh” He quickly discards his clothing. 

You watch as his cock is already stiffening. 

“Now be a good boy and step into the circle and lay down,” you ask while also discarding your garments. 

Eddie quickly obeys your orders. 

“Would you like me to explain the steps before or do you want it to be a surprise?”

“Will it hurt?”

“No” 

“Surprise me.” Eddie didn’t think his cock could be any harder. The anticipation was foreplay enough. 

You begin the ritual with a deep breath, stepping into the circle with your crystal bowl you straddle Eddie. You scoop the paste you created and create sigils over eddies chest with them while chanting in a language Eddie didn’t recognize. 

“Fata, cape hoc humanum meum scrinium amoris. Immortalis est sicut ego. Meus amor, mea lux. Vitam aeternam tribuo ei. Da ei eterinty.” 

Your hips start to gride on Eddie’s as you get lost in the chant. Your magic starts to take over your body as you get lost in all of it. The feeling, the love, the magic. Your red eyes were now glowing pure white. Eddie gazed up at you in awe as you continued chanting. He was not sure if you were still here with him or if something had taken over your body. 

“Fuck.” Eddie slips and your hand covers his mouth before your pussy slips his cock inside. 

Possessed by the magic you were channelling, your body performs the spell. The faster you chanted, the faster you fucked Eddie. 

Sex with you had been amazing, but nothing had compared to this. He loved the thrill of this, there was no way he would change his mind.

Eddie tried to tell you he was going to come, unsure if he was allowed to yet. But your hand still muffled his mouth.

You felt him deep in your gut, His thick cock stretching your walls, hitting every spot you needed. Euphoria was essential to the spell and Eddie sure was holding up his end of it. 

You heard muffled mumbles come for Eddie and you released your hand from his mouth. You were so far into the chanting that you couldn’t be stopped now even if Eddie tried to interrupt. 

“Fata, cape hoc humanum meum scrinium amoris. Immortalis est sicut ego. Meus amor, mea lux. Vitam aeternam tribuo ei. Da ei eterinty. Fata, cape hoc humanum meum scrinium amoris. Immortalis est sicut ego. Meus amor, mea lux. Vitam aeternam tribuo ei. Da ei eterinty.” 

Eddie thinks those words will be etched into his memory forever. 

His hands roam your body before planting them on your hips. He couldn’t help himself he had to have it harder. Planting his feet on the ground, Eddie snaps his hips up into you, meeting your pace. The wet sounds of skin-on-skin echo through the basement walls, faster and faster, louder and louder. Your voice trumps the delicious sounds of sex, and then it hits you both. Your mind-numbing, explosive orgasms rip through each of you. Your bodies shake, and you let out a loud cry of pure bliss.

A blinding white light fills the room, blowing out all the candles you lit before they relate themselves. You collapse on top of Eddie, exhausted by the amount of magic youve performed. 

Breathless you and Eddie stay connected. 

“It is done?” Eddie asks in a daze, not sure if he is supposed to feel any different. 

Without enough energy to speak, you nod your head against Eddie’s chest. 

“You’re incredible, little Witch.”  and that is the last thing you remember before falling asleep. 

You wake up, your cheek cemented to Eddie’s tattoo-clad chest. 

“There she is.” Eddie storks your hair. 

“How long was I out?” you mumble, rubbing the sleep from our eyes. 

“An hour, I can only guess.” 

Eddie shifted and you felt him still inside of you so you grind your soar hips so he slips further in.

“You’re a succubus.” 

“You wish” You kiss his neck. “How do you feel?” 

“Like I could move a mountian.” Eddie sighs as you grind down on him, cock growing with each push. 

“Mmmm, good” you hum. 

Eddie could no longer take it, even though he had the best orgasm of his life an hour ago, you were like a drug to him. He wanted more. 

Flipping you around so you are on your back, Eddie spreads your legs further apart, watching how his cock buried deep within you.

You admire the now permanent sigil etched into his skin like a tattoo. You didn’t even know if Eddie was aware of the new ink that came with forever existence, but that all gets erased when his hips jerk so deeply within you that your eyes turn a colour Eddie has never seen before. The most beautiful deep purple. 

“Baby" you moan. 

“Fuck, little Witch,” you can’t help but clamp down on him. 

“Oh you like that don’t you, Sorceress.” 

“Y-yes” you tremble.” 

Eddie can’t believe how powerful he feels; you’ve granted him this gift and he needs to show his appreciation in return. 

He pulls out, and you plead, but not for long because he buries his face between your legs. Your sweet slick coats his tongue as it dances around your clit. 

“More” You plead. Your hips gride down on his chin, and the stubble on his cheeks scrapes your inner thighs. 

“I’ll give you anything you want.” He was yours to serve. His tounge swirls around your extra sensitive clit.

“Make me cum.” 

A wave of pleasure hits you hard when Eddie pushes his cock back inside your needy cunt. With each thrust, he works himself through your orgasm, making your head spin; wave after wave consumes your body. You feel his hands graze your nipples, tweaking them and making you clench down on him even tighter. 

With Eddie’s head thrown back, sweat dripping down his chest glittering the candle light he looked like a deity. 

After one more final thrust Eddie collapses on top of you. 

“That was amazing.” He nuzzles into your neck and you can’t help but agree. 

When Eddie finally pulls out, you feel a rush of release come out with him. 

“You’re a messy little Witch, aren’t you?”

“Me?” 

“Yes” he slips a finger through your slit collecting your combined cum and you jerk away, your cunt all so sensitive. 

“Well, you’re the one who asked for it” you smirk. 

“I would be an idiot to deny being with you like this for eternity”

“You think so?” 

“Know so.”

tags : @ghostlyfleur @veemoon @abitchyouhate @thewayitalknj @mediocredreams @deadlynightshade-and-hyacinth @daisy-munson @strawberrycheesecakedelight @just-random-thoughts-and-things @oneforthemunny @gagasbee @abirdinthehouse @saintlvcifer @hauntedfawnn @eerielamb @munson-blurbs @hellfire--cult @andvys @pollenallergie

[cosmicmunsonwrites]

i just wanna be one of your girls

mean!rafe cameron x desperate!fem!reader

cw — mdni, sexual content, slight manipulation, kind of dark!rafe

summary — things mean!rafe would do to desperate!reader

authors note — i’m trying my hardest to get back into writing guys i swear. heres a part 2!!

do not copy or post my work anywhere else.

mean!rafe who absolutely loves the power he has over desperate!reader. how he can just snap his fingers and have you right at his fingertips willing to do anything he asked.

mean!rafe who thinks the crush you have on him is absolutely adorable and loves to rub it in your face. he gets a sick kick out of teasing you and keeping you close enough to still want him, even though you know he’s just out of your reach and you’ll never fully have him.

mean!rafe who hates seeing you talk to other guys at parties but will blatantly flirt with other girls in front of you. all just to see you whiny with glassy eyes and begging him to take you home where you’ll know he’ll fuck you just right.

mean!rafe who calls you at any moment for a quickie of some sort because he knows you’ll always pick up and speed over to anywhere he was to do whatever he wanted, no matter how far.

mean!rafe who’d always fuck you any chance he got in the dirtiest way to show you just how much power he had over you.

mean!rafe who’d go raw every single time simply because you let him. even begged him for it.

mean!rafe who didn’t kiss you at first because he didn’t want you getting anymore attached than you already were.

mean!rafe who’d take pictures of your face full of his cum and store them away in his hidden album to brag about with his friends later.

mean!rafe who marked you up every single time just to keep everyone else off of you. he loved seeing the deep purple bruises that littered your skin because of him.

mean!rafe who sometimes found himself getting soft with you when you cried about how you never felt good enough for him after seeing him with so many other girls. it made him feel a little guilty, something he was never used to.

mean!rafe who owned a key to your house and would show up whenever he pleased just to feel you wrapped around him.

mean!rafe who always ran back to you no matter what, even if he’d trick you into thinking it was the other way around.

mean!rafe who eventually started to develop feelings for you. he loved the clingy, desperate nature of you and it made his heart full whenever he’d stay the night after you cried and begged him too.

mean!rafe who was whimpering into your ear as he drilled into you from behind and accidentally let a soft “i love you” slip out. he later gaslit you into thinking you were so desperate for any form of affection so you made it up in that delusional head of yours.

[baeshijima]

— stardust

the world is a vast place. in the grand scheme of things, humans are but a speck of dust; much like how you are sure you are nothing but a meagre speck of dust in the world he lives in, forever to be remained unseen. (if only you knew how you are the brightest star he'd ever laid his eyes upon.)

CONTAINS : gn!reader, 1.5k wc, royalty!au, contract marriage/marriage of convenience, fluff, smitten reca bc what would he be other than smitten, a little hint of bittersweet at the end if read between the lines aha...

A/N : ....i have a paper due monday. i havent started it. why do i do this to myself. (reca i love u can u not hear my cries and wails as fic after fic appears in my brain for u...)

Duke Reca of the northern territory; to many he is a well-accomplished noble, a young genius set for greater things, and the owner-slash-founder of the top theatre company. He is an idol — a role model to those who aspire to be more involved in the artistic side of the world.

To you, however, he is an absolute lunatic, the bane of your existence, and your contractual husband.

It's not like you had much choice. It was either: a) remain as a hollow puppet whose strings danced at your family's fingertips, or b) find some way to escape with outside power.

You, of course, chose the second option. Unfortunately, that somehow led to you meeting the young duke when out in the shopping district, trying to escape the suffocating presence of your family's knights accompanying you by running into a secluded alleyway, even if it was for but a momentary breather.

It was a whirlwind of a meeting... quite literally. Bodies flew; clothing tousled; breaths stolen. Well, at least for you it was like this. He, on the other hand, looked right as rain. (Lucky bastard.) You hadn't realised it was him at first, too absorbed in hasty apologies and the numbing bloom spreading across your backside like a wildfire (really, they ought to incorporate more padding in these flimsy clothes!), but when he uttered an apology of his own for not paying attention to his surroundings with an arm outstretched to help you stand, your mind all but blanked. What was someone of his status doing in a dingy alley? Didn't the newspapers report word of his self-confinement, having not stepped foot outside his manor in fervent preparation of his upcoming performance?

No, never mind all that; wasn't this a blatant opportunity being presented to you? An outside power that could help you escape the clutches of your family...

With gritted teeth, all sense of self-dignity was cast aside as you grasped his outstretched hand with both of your own, gazing into his widened eyes with your own narrowed ones.

"Your Grace, I know this is hardly the appropriate time nor place, but please... marry me!" Your words echoed within the enclosed space. Duke Reca blinked slowly down at you, and it was then you realised you never elaborated. "In... in a contractual marriage of convenience, of course."

"Oh?" he grinned, amusement and intrigue twinkling in his eyes. "And what is it you can offer me?"

"I..." Truthfully, there was nothing you could offer which would be beneficial to someone like him who had everything at the tips of his fingers. You were but a speck of dust in his world, merely floating and remaining unseen within his view. But even so, here you kneeled before him, his gaze wholly fixated on a speck of dust such as yourself. If nothing else, you at least had your desperation — a desperation to be your own person. "My lineage may be from that of a baron's, but I am confident I can be of use to you if you would permit it. So long as you accept my offer, I will do anything to aid you, whether that be through practical means or a performance you wish to see."

A beat of silence.

"Ha... haha... ahahaha!!"

And, as if things couldn't get any worse than a sore rear and disgruntled self, you were pulled out of your daze by a pair of gleaming carmine eyes, a maniacal grin, and his body, now kneeled just like you were, so very close to your own.

"That determination... how brilliantly you burn with such an expression!" The sheer glee which bled through his tone sent shivers down your spine, having never realised someone so esteemed had such a side to him. The duke breathed a breathy laugh and slightly backed up, his hands still holding your arms. "Alright, I look forward to seeing how brightly you will shine in your performance, my dear leading actor."

...Was it too late to back out and find an alternative solution?

Admittedly so, for the next thing you knew vows were declared and you were moved into the duke's residence. You could still remember your family's aghast expressions the moment you declared you were marrying Duke Reca and thus cutting ties with them. It was oddly freeing to see their contorted faces reveal their true nature.

Life as the duke's spouse was... something, to say the least. His servants and attendants almost seemed to have shed tears of joy at the revelation of their ever so lonely duke (their words, not yours) finally settling down and getting married, asking you questions such as how you both met, what drew you to their duke, who popped the question first, why you chose him of all people, so on so forth. It was... cosy. Something you admittedly weren't very accustomed to, but found yourself welcoming nonetheless.

One thing you never expected was for the duke to have a little pet of his own; a little toad dressed in a miniature beret and matching suit, at that. Assistant Director is what Reca had called her, and you think for someone so obsessed with the arts he ought to up his naming sense. She was also quite susceptible to compliments, something you discovered when commenting on the little toad's cute attire, with the duke's baffling translation of her bashfulness and her own compliment on your own looks. Apparently. You're not really sure, but you're inclined to believe it ever since she claimed a spot on your shoulder.

As the days-turned-weeks-turned-months bled into each other, you found yourself oddly lost at how well-adapted you have become of your new life and the duke's personality. From impromptu displays of affection both in and outside the manor to sporadic radio silence on his end when wholly consumed by his fervent passion for a project, you sometimes wonder just how you're still alive with the amount of heart attacks the man has given you.

But despite his... eccentricities, to put it lightly, there are times where you can't quite put a finger on certain expressions he would make when he thinks you're not looking. They're unlike his (once again, to put it very lightly) passionate eyes when rambling to you during mealtimes about an upcoming performance the troupe has; unlike the sheer mania he can exude when something truly sparks his inspiration; unlike the playfully smug grin he would give you when swooping down in dramatic flair to press a long kiss to the back of your palm; unlike the rare darkening of his expression that you cannot help but stiffen at when something or someone in the troupe doesn't quite match his expectations.

No. These ones are... soft. A kind of tenderness and unprecedented longing able to be identified if scrutinised close enough. It was evident in the ghost-like touches he would trail along your skin, as though afraid just a little more force would do irreparable damage. It was evident in the attention to even the most minute details, having everything from clothing to food to the decor suited to preferences you yourself never realised you had. It was evident in the way unadulterated fondness leaked through his tone when his unique terms of affection for you slipped through his lips when all was silent and you were supposed to be asleep.

"My dearest star..."

...Much like now, it would seem.

The bed dips by where your knees slightly bend, hidden under the beige covers. A familiar musky scent surrounds you not long after, and you find yourself involuntarily relaxing at the comfort it brings as your head further burrows into the pillow.

You want to stay awake, even if it's just for a second longer, to hear what he has to say to your less than conscious state. But, oh, his fingers threading through your hair and softly massaging your scalp and the gentle touch of his forehead against yours and the subtle comforting warmth that rolls off his body in waves does little to help you fight the sleep which easily takes over.

Oh, whatever! You'll just try and catch what he has to say next time.

Eventually your breathing evens out, only soft snores now heard within the large shared bedroom. Upon noticing this, Reca cannot stop the fond smile which lifts the corners of his lips, nor can he prevent the softening of his eyes as he continues to gaze at your sleeping form.

"My dearest [Name]," he whispers into the dead of night. Even now, several months later, he still cannot believe his luck to have run into you in that alleyway. It must have been fate which made him heed its call, urging him he would discover something sure to escape that terrible slump plaguing him for weeks on end.

Sure enough, it brought him to something irreplaceable; something he has been searching desperately for.

You.

And, with the tenderest of kisses pressed to your forehead that would put even the most sickening romantics to shame, he murmurs words of promise against your skin, an oath he swears to uphold no matter the obstacles which stand before him.

"In this life, I will ensure you have only the best of endings."

if you enjoyed this, reblogs and/or comments are greatly appreciated <33

[heyimkana]

Come Home to Me (1/2)

Read Part 2 | Read it on AO3

Pairing: Sung Jinwoo X Female Reader

Genre: Marriage AU, fluff, smut, slight angst

Summary: Jinwoo bids you and his baby daughter goodbye before he goes on another dangerous mission. As his wife, you've grown used to the bittersweet farewell, only this time, you're not sure if he can return safely to you.

Word Count: 5K

Content Warnings: None for this one. Semi-public sex in part 2. Contains minor spoilers and the appearance of Beru, the shadow soldier that he obtained during Jeju Island Raid.

Author's Note: Wrote something fluffy for him since there's already plenty of Daddy!Jinwoo fics out there but none for Papa!Jinwoo 😔

A week. 

Your husband has only been gone for a week, tasting the air of a country that stretched like a vast sea on the other side of the world, wishing every breath and scenery was shared with you. And yet, the suspense of being kept in waiting, clueless to what was happening, was almost too much to bear. You never thought that seven days could stretch like infinity, how every hour passed by so slowly, so agonizingly, as if you had lost your sole purpose in life. Had you realized it sooner, you would’ve begged him not to go, knowing you’d be dreading every passing second, wondering if he was safe, if he was close to death’s door like the last time you let him go to protect Seoul from being transformed into an everlasting iceland. 

“What are you so worried about? You have it so easy. Your husband is untouchable. Try being a D-rank hunter’s wife like me. I’m lucky if he comes home with only a bruise on his face.”

What your neighbor told you was true. You had it easy compared to everyone else. You’re the wife of Korea’s 10th S-Rank Hunter. The Lord of the Undead. The Shadow Monarch. As the sixth nation-level hunter, maybe even a level beyond that, your husband’s strength was nearly immeasurable, far better than anyone else. But to you… He was just Sung Jinwoo. The father of your beautiful baby daughter, a loving husband who refused to believe that he was handsome enough to charm your heart from the very first sight, and an ardent lover who’d be more than willing to sacrifice the world for you, the same one he had vowed to protect with all his power. Jinwoo might be strong, surpassing all humans and beings alike, but even the Gods themselves weren’t invincible. And the thought of him not returning to you, no matter how slim the chance might be, scared you to your bones.

He had made enemies. Powerful enemies. Enemies that didn’t just wish to kill him but to torture. Enemies that were no longer just mindless beasts or demons but ones who bore immense hatred and revenge in their hearts.

With that knowledge in mind, all sorts of thoughts and scenarios raced through your head, all of them ending in worst-case scenarios.

What if Jinwoo doesn’t come home?

And, of course, amidst all that fear, there was loneliness. The kind that lingered every time your fingertips traced over your husband’s belongings in your bedroom. The kind that suffocated you when you caught a whiff of his sweet scent in your pillows. You thought you could handle it. It was only for a week, after all. It was not until later that you realized that it meant you had to miss seven occasions of him surprising you in the morning with a back hug and a tender kiss on your neck. Seven chances of seeing him opening the front door with a bag of sweets to please your daughter, embracing your little one with the sweetest of smiles before he greeted you with an equally sweet peck on the lips. Seven nights of nothing but the deafening silence to keep you company instead of deep, consuming kisses that took your breath away and a hand sliding up your thigh to remind you just who you belonged to.

You thought such a solitary feeling wouldn’t strike you so hard since you had your daughter to keep you company at all times, but it did, harder than lightning. You felt lonely the minute your husband kissed you goodbye. You felt lonely the moment he lovingly caressed your cheek, brushing another kiss, lighter and tender than before, right on your temple. You felt lonely the second his voice rang through your ears to speak his farewell, “Goodbye, baby. I’ll be home as soon as I clear the gate.” 

Soon was not enough. Soon, you realized, was just another word for eternity. Eternity without him. But the world needed him, and you couldn’t be selfish. You shouldn’t.

You hummed quietly in response, carrying your baby in your arms as your heart stood heavy with the fear for his safety. You knew you should’ve hidden it better so your husband could leave with ease. Seeing you worry so much would only make his heart ache more. 

You could tell that he already had his own concerns and doubts to dwell on, gnawing at him from the inside. Jinwoo was just better at hiding everything to himself—the burden he was carrying, the guilt of leaving you behind, the exhaustion of doing endless raids, one gate harder than the last. To tell the truth, he was as torn as you were. Like you, who constantly grew anxious over his well-being, he worried about yours, too, perhaps a million times worse. He was a hunter possessing God-like abilities, but you were just a human, as normal as one could be. The closest way to get to him, to strike him where he’d bleed the most, was through you. You and his sweet baby daughter. It was the reason why Jinwoo had assigned a hundred High Orcs to protect the neighborhood, with another hundred swarming beneath the shadows of your walls. He’d transformed your home into a fortress, and yet, even then, his concern for you remained. But your husband never told you this, and he wished you wouldn’t come to realize it on your own, not wanting you to feel like you were the anchor that slowed him down, a weight that would drown him deep into the void. 

You should’ve done the same. As his wife, the least you could do was put up a strong face, convince him that everything would be fine, that he’d return home safely, and that you’d be there waiting for him to welcome him with the warmth of your lips meeting his own. You could’ve offered him the peace he secretly sought after, and most of the time, you did a fine job at it, but this evening was different. There was a sense of impending dread closing in with every tick of the clock, and you couldn’t wash it away no matter what you did.

With his car keys dangling in one hand, Jinwoo headed toward your porch, carrying a suitcase with him. His long coat swayed gracefully with each step taken, his matching black shirt unbuttoned low enough to showcase the dip of his sternum. Even from behind, he appeared tall and strong, providing the feeling of security you couldn’t find in anyone else. Your baby held onto you, laying her head on your chest as you followed after your husband’s footsteps, oblivious to the heavy storm raging in your mind. 

Don’t go. You felt like catching his hand and pulling him back even from the second he removed himself from your embrace. “J-Jinwoo.”

His gaze flickered back to you, one hand settled on the door of his car. His eyes, the same pair that caused even the most vicious beast to tremble in fear, they were always so gentle to you, weren’t they? “Yeah?”

You swallowed your breath. Don’t tell him. Don’t make him worry more than he already is. You released a shaky breath, followed closely after with your best smile. “Be safe.”

A flash of curiosity fleeted across his face. He sensed something from how you behaved but did not quite understand it just yet, as your mask was nearly perfect. Smiling to himself, he settled down his suitcase and returned to you. Jinwoo laid a hand on your head, his palm large and gentle. As you looked up, greeted by his towering height, he bent himself slightly to be closer to you. He brushed the stray strands out of your eyes; his smile had a hint of confidence—maybe even arrogance—in it. “And who do you think you’re talking to, Sweetheart?”

To anyone else’s eyes, your husband might often come across as indifferent, with his charisma and leadership ceaselessly exuding out of him, making him seem unapproachable, guarded. But to you, he was always playful. Cheeky. Flirty, even. Not too much, just enough for your heart to palpitate inside your ribcages, just enough for you to recall the reason why your life was so beautiful, meaningful. No, the reason why you were alive in the first place. 

But it wasn’t enough to ease your worry, not today. Even so, you returned it with a delicate bow of your lips. “My husband,” you said, angling your head just enough for his hand to slide down to your cheek, gazing up at him with sincerity, “who I couldn’t bear to live without.”

He blinked, taken by surprise with such an earnest answer. Once the words sank in, his entire expression softened. His fingertips traced the contour of your cheek, a touch so tender you wondered if it truly belonged to someone who had drenched his hands in blood. His palm was rough, calloused from all the countless hours he’d spent wielding his dagger, but it comforted you more than anything else. “You’re right, I am,” he replied softly. “Which is why you don’t need to worry. As your husband, I have the responsibility—and this aching need—to be with you. No matter how hard it is, no matter how long it will take me, I will do anything, everything, to make sure I return to you.” He lifted your face just enough to brush a kiss on your temple. “I’ll come home safe and sound, the way I always do. You just need to trust me on this, all right?”

You believed him—you did, you always did—but you couldn’t put the same faith in whoever controlled his fate.

Jinwoo stood close, close enough for you to take in his scent and feel the familiar heat radiating from his body. He brought your face to his, pressing your foreheads together. Your lids fluttered shut at the intimacy, a habit of yours that he’d grown to adore. You wanted to cry, the silvery voice in your mind telling you this might be the last time you could bask in this serenity. You would’ve done it, sobbed your heart out, if it wasn’t because of the thin thread of restraint holding you together. 

“Instead of telling me to be safe,” Jinwoo breathed out softly, closing his eyes just the same. “Tell me you’ll be waiting for me.” He returned the small distance between your faces, just enough for you to marvel at the sweetness of his smile. “That you’ll be here, standing by the door to greet me with a smile, with the same kiss you gave me before we parted. Can you do that for me, Sweetheart? Can you wait here for me, stay safe, and make sure that I have something to come back to?”

You squeezed your lips tightly before you altered the tremble running through them into a smile. You covered his hand with your own, your digit brushing against the silver ring that adorned his lean finger, glinting under the sunset with your name carved inside. “Jin…” You brushed your lips against the center of his palm, exhaling heavily as you drowned in his warmth. It was nearly impossible to release the words, the same way you never wanted to release him. “Come home soon. Come home to me. I’ll be waiting for you.”

For someone who rarely showed emotions across his face, his joy unfolded like a flower, crystal clear for even your baby to see. With a quiver in his breath, his voice dropped an octave lower. “Baby,” he sighed, his voice hoarse with need, your stomach somersaulting at the sound. “You’re making it so hard for me to leave right now.”

If it was hard for him, it was unbearable to you. “I was just doing what you told me to.”

“I didn’t expect you to say it like that,” he replied, almost in a whine. “Now, I’ve lost motivation to go. Maybe I should just change back to my sweatpants and cuddle with you two. Watch cartoons all day. Eat cakes and have tea parties.” He tickled his daughter by the chin, returning her questioning eyes with a slight grin. “Doesn’t that sound fun, Princess?”

It was heartwarming the way he spoke it, the way he imagined it, how he craved for more time to spend with his family. “Then, stay,” you said, an impish, albeit faint, smile twinkled on your pretty mouth. “Stay with me.” You pulled your daughter, who had been listening while babbling quietly to herself, closer to you, your cheek squeezed tight against her plump one. “With us.”

“And watch the world burn?” His chuckle, your favorite sound in the world, reverberated nicely in your ears. 

You fell into deep rumination, taking his words into serious consideration despite it being a jest. A dungeon break would happen soon on the other side of the world, and an S-rank gate at that. Nobody was strong enough to close it. Nobody was strong enough to clear it. It would destroy the whole city in the following two days had it not been taken care of—no, maybe even the entire state. Hundreds—thousands—of innocent lives would be wiped out in an instant should that happen. Your husband had the power to stop it. He was the only one capable of saving them, but… 

“Would that… be so bad?” You feebly questioned before you could stop yourself, almost pleadingly. “Just one time… Don’t be a hero just this one time. Just be my husband and stay with me. Stay right here, where I need you the most.”

His smile vanished, his body freezing at the solemnity in your tone. He was lost for words, perplexity in his stare. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed his breath. Jinwoo cupped your cheek again, his gaze turning stern as he beseeched you for the truth. “Are you really asking me that?”

You gulped. His words had weight behind them, responding to you just as earnestly. It was almost as if he was on the verge of doing the same, just needing that one last push for his will to save the world to shatter. Your words could be it.

You felt weak under his stare, almost breathless, intoxicated by how deeply he loved you, to the point he would trade innocent lives for it. “As long as that means you can always be with me,” you answered, letting your selfish thought slip, saying it so quietly as if you couldn’t bear the Gods to know just how sinful your wish was. “I’ll trade the world for it.”

Not a word flowed from his mouth. His hold on your face was almost as still as a statue. Within this proximity, under this palpable tension, your gaze dropped to his thin lips, the same way his deep, cobalt eyes fell to yours. His eyes darkened, his body burning with desire. “Don’t tempt me,” he uttered, almost in a growl, before he smashed your lips together. He gathered your face in his hands, kissing you fast and hard, disregarding everything, anything except you. You could feel just how much he wanted to make your wish come true, and it painted elation onto your soul but guilt onto your heart. It was an awful thing to say, jest or not.

His moan, soft, breathy, and sensual, granted a layer of sweet vibration on your lips, and oh, you were wrong. This one was your favorite sound in the world. You were in the middle of drowning in his kiss, in the swirling, intense emotions he permeated your heart with, when the sound of your daughter’s giggles rang through the air. Immediately, you stopped, breaking away from him. “W-what are you laughing about, Sweetheart?” you asked her, flames licking your cheeks. “I can’t believe we just did that in front of our child!” You hissed at him, glaring.

Jinwoo averted his face to the side, looking just as flushed and caught off guard. Wiping the stain of your lip gloss off his lips with his knuckles, he uttered back, “Don’t blame me. This is all your fault.”

“How is it my fault? You kissed me.”

“You were looking at me with those eyes.”

“With what eyes?” You played dumb. “This is how I normally look at you.”

He snorted, amused. “Oh, so you weren’t just staring at my lips? Asking me to sacrifice the world for you while you did it?”

Your face sizzled. “Oh, shut up.”

Jinwoo laughed, quiet and soft as always, but his eyes crinkled prettily around the edges. Your daughter chortled along, too, as if she could understand the words you exchanged with your husband. In reality, she was simply mirroring the joy that gleamed on both of your faces, happy to see the unspoken, lingering sadness between you disappear even for a moment.

When you returned your stare from your daughter to the man before you, you caught him staring at you. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Nothing,” Jinwoo shrugged with a smile. Happy. “Hey, can you say it again?”

“Say what?”

“That you’ll be waiting for me to come back to you.”

Your heart thrashed inside your ribcages. For some reason, with him looking at you with those eyes and that smile, it felt mortifying to repeat it. You looked away, mumbling out the words almost inaudibly, “I’ll be waiting for you.”

“Baby,” he playfully scolded. “Be a good girl and say it like you mean it.”

Good gi—Must he say it like that? Your cheeks burned. “I’ll… I’ll be waiting… for you.”

So cute, his expression seemed to say, adoring you with his smile growing wide and clear, consumed by the love you presented him, love that was fully returned. “One more time, love. Please.”

You exhaled, finally succumbing to his wish. You held his gaze, your expression sheepish, nervous, but you said it as best as you could, placing a piece of your heart in every word.

“Come home to me. I’ll be waiting for you. I’ll always be waiting for you.”

It resonated straight into his chest, erasing every hint of smirk off his lips. A spark of desire filled his gaze as he dove his head to capture your lips once more, forgetting yet again that your baby was there—looking at the two of you with curious eyes.

“H-Honey,” you stopped him just in time despite wanting it as badly—especially after that last kiss. Funny how your body still longed desperately for his touch even after he’d endlessly robbed moans out of your mouth the previous night. “Your daughter’s still here.”

“Right.” Jinwoo broke free from the thought, no matter how inviting your lips looked. He turned toward his daughter, rubbing her head. “Sorry, kiddo. Mommy looked so pretty; I got completely absorbed for a moment there. The one before that was completely her fault, though.”

You elbowed him on the side, stealing another chuckle from him. “You’re not in a hurry, are you? I still want to talk to you. I’m sure your daughter feels the same, too. Even for a minute is fine, just… just stay.”

Happiness, one that you brought to him, was the perfect shade to color his face. Being so needed by you, so wanted… You were his motivation to fight and survive. He wanted to memorize your face, to engrave it into his mind so that he could hold onto it, even in the midst of battle. “Of course, baby.”

You dwelled in another string of conversation, something light to pacify your mind. You couldn’t help but stare a little as he spoke, adoring how his hair framed his face so perfectly. He looked exceptionally handsome standing before you, causing you to wonder if it was because your heart was already yearning so terribly for him, knowing you’d be deprived of his touch for days after.

The baby in your arms looked up at her father, her hand reaching forward to touch him, her twin-tails swaying in the air with every movement. “Papa…”

Jinwoo bent his head low to meet her at her eye level, smiling when she splayed her hand on his cheek. “Yes, my darling?” 

“Shaef…” She cooed, still having trouble pronouncing her words clearly. “Papa, shaef…”

Your lips curved up in a downhearted smile. “She wants you to be safe. Seems like she’s worried about you, too.”

You could see his emotions swirling in his eyes, how touched he was, how much it pained him to tear himself away from his little family, but it was a mission he needed to do. A mission that only he could do. He collected himself before more pieces of his heart broke, rubbing her head so affectionately. “I will be, Sweetheart. Daddy will be just fine. There’s no need to worry about me. Daddy’s stronger than anyone else.”

Your daughter tried to imitate the word ‘strong’ in response, an act so adorable that it stole a peal of laughter from both of you. “That’s right, Sweetie,” he crooned. “And you will be as strong as me, too, one day, but for now, I’ll have Beru watching over you at all times, okay? He’s tougher than any S-rank hunter here. He can protect you from anything.”

She blinked her doe eyes, patting his father’s cheek. “Boo… Bewu… Boo…”

Jinwoo sewed his brows in confusion. “What?”

You tittered. “She’s asking you if Beru could protect her from ghosts, too. Remember last Halloween when we bought her the storybook with the little white ghost? She’s talking about that one.”

“Oh, yeah,” he recalled the memory with delight. “You’re scared of the little ghost, baby?”

“Boo! Boo!”

“I see,” he chuckled lightly at her reaction. “Well, yes, Beru can certainly protect you from that, too. Just give me a second, all right?” 

Your husband straightened himself, his eyes emitting an ominous glow, a pair of brilliant amethyst gleaming underneath the orange tinge of the setting sun. No matter how often you’d seen it, it still sent shivers down your spine. 

“Come forth.”

A shadow soldier, a huge, humanoid ant with a light purple glow, neon eyes, and smoky wings, was born out of his spell, his body manifesting out of thin air. Beru, he was called, a name Jinwoo had bestowed upon him after he resurrected him during the deadly raid on Jeju island. 

The warrior kneeled before his summoner at once, bending his head low. “My liege.”

“Take care of my wife and baby while I’m away. Should any harm come to them…” It shimmered brighter, the eerie glow inside his eyes, carrying the horror of death itself. His voice vibrated dangerously, pressure in each word. “You know what I’ll do to you, right?”

The shadow, one of the strongest generals in his army, gulped in fear. “Y-yes, my liege.”

“Don’t be too harsh on him, Jin,” you scold your husband, rubbing his arm. “He’s doing us a favor.” You greeted the soldier with a warm smile. “I’ll be in your care again, Beru.”

“It is an honor, milady.” Beru placed his hand over his chest, his claws long enough to graze his own shoulder as he inclined his body forward. “I swear upon my life that I will do whatever it takes to protect you, even if it means my bones will shatter to dust.”

Jinwoo visibly rolled his eyes at his dramatic act. “See, this is exactly why I should be a little strict with him. You’re spoiling him too much.”

“I think he deserves it. He’s been an excellent babysitter to us. And he cleans up the house better than you do. He just talks a bit funny, that’s all.”

“Oh, Queen Consort,” Beru nearly sobbed, the black smoke around him trembled. “Your praise is too much for my humble self to accept. How can I, Beru, your most loyal servant, repay you for such kindness?”

“Stopping yourself from watching all those historical dramas would be a start,” your husband muttered.

“Shush, he can watch whatever he wants,” you lightly chastised him again, to which Jinwoo sighed in defeat. “Though I would’ve liked it better if you could just address me normally, Beru. Calling me the… Queen Consort is kind of embarrassing.”

Beru performed his respect with an exaggerated bow. “I will call you whatever title you see fit, milady. Please. Tell me. How should I refer to you, O my Gracious One?”

You cringed at the title. “My name?”

Horror fell upon his face as soon as the words reached his ears. “I-I cannot do that, milady! I will never be so disrespectful as to call you merely by your name. You are the Queen of The Shadow Realm. The Wife of Death. The Worthy Bearer of my King’s Seeds—”

“‘Milady’ then!” You exclaimed with haste, face aflame. “M-Milady is fine, just—never call me that.”

Jinwoo bit his lip, trying to bite back his laughter. “The last one has a nice ring to it.”

“Oh, be quiet.”

In the hilarity of the moment, your baby suddenly launched her hands in the air, her feet kicking around in excitement. “Bewu! Bewu!”

“Aaw, look at her, Jinwoo,” your mouth broke into a wide grin as you struggled to keep her in your arms. “She’s so happy to see him.”

“L-little monarch,” Beru, without a doubt, began to cry, touched by the baby’s attachment to him. “It is a pleasure to see you again, Princess. May—may I carry her in my arms, milady?”

“Sure.” You closed the distance, gently handing her over to him. “Watch your claws.”

“Of course, milady.” The soldier wept at their reunion, tears streaming down his armor-like skin. Your baby tugged onto one of his antennae, using it as her personal rattle toy, giggling as she did it. You and your husband smiled; your hearts thawed at the sight. 

Jinwoo, acting aloof as always, stuffed his hands inside his coat pockets, huffing out, “How is she not terrified of him but gets scared of a drawing? That little ghost was cute and Beru is like… that.”

“I take pride in my appearance, my liege. Nothing can penetrate my skin, not even the teeth of a mighty beast.” Under Jinwoo’s flat stare, Beru cowered. “N-nothing except your daggers, my liege.”

Your body shook a little with mirth as you replied, “Babies don’t see things the way we do, darling. Maybe she thinks Beru is cute.”

He hummed before he leaned closer to you. “And who do you think is cute?” A little smirk embellished his lips, his voice silky-smooth.

Understanding what lies behind his words, you slid a hand up his chest, an inkling of seduction in your smile. “I think you already know the answer to that.”

“Hmm, I’m not sure I do,” he teased back, loving the little game you played. “Care to enlighten me?”

Your hand rested on his shoulder before you guided him down to bring his ear close to your lips. You let your mouth caress his lobe, just a little, just enough to drive him crazy, and with the most sultry, alluring voice you could muster, you whispered your answer, “Beru.”

Though he grunted in dissatisfaction, a faint blush still smeared his cheek. Feeling the softness of your lips upon his sensitive skin, even after years of marriage, still did something to him. “You’re such a tease, you know that?”

“What?” You feigned innocence. “I really think he’s cute.”

“Of course you do,” he scoffed, to which you giggled in response.

“Papa,” your daughter points her finger at him, stealing his attention once more. “Papa, stay!”

“Does she think I’m a dog?” Jinwoo uttered before a chuckle followed. Shortening the small distance between them, he nuzzled his nose against her tiny palm, his usually stern eyes turning softer than the first snow of December. “You know how much I’d love to stay with you, baby girl, but I can’t. Daddy needs to go and save the world from the big, scary monsters out there so they won’t come and steal your little nose.” He pinched her pointy nose lightly, making her giggle with it. “But I will miss you. I will miss you so much, kiddo. So, be a good girl and wait for my return, okay? Daddy will be back before you know it.”

“Stay!” She insisted still, nearly launching herself forward in her vehement protest. “Stay, Papa, stay!”

“All right, all right, come here.” Your husband stole his daughter back from the shadow’s embrace, carrying her with ease in one arm despite her growing weight. “Let’s talk about it like adults, shall we?”

Life had passed by so quickly, faster than your brain could retain the memories, but you could still recall the first day you saw him holding your baby in his arms just like this. His expression back then was a mixture of excitement, the fear of the unknown, but above all, the love he was so eager to give. His hair was disheveled, his smile weary, and black circles stained his fair skin from all the sleepless hours he’d spent waiting beside your bed, praying for the Gods to ease your pain. He shed plenty of tears on the morning you finally opened your lids, thinking that it would take you forever to wake up, just like his mother once did. Perhaps even worse. With his sharp senses, he could tell just how much yours were fading away, and it frightened him more than the time he dealt with the giants in Cartenon Temple, so much that his fingers shook as they held yours tightly in the middle of his prayer.

It wasn’t an easy process bringing your little bundle of joy into the world—a life-threatening situation, all because she inherited just a hint of Jinwoo’s immense power. You suffered terribly during your pregnancy days, even more so when you were closer to the due date. Your daughter was so close to tearing open your womb and leaving you to bleed to death on your bed before the doctors took you away just in time to perform the surgery. Jinwoo had witnessed everything from behind the glass doors, feeling so powerless, useless, and loathing himself for it. His dose of the Elixir of Life had run out a while ago, and mere potions would never be enough to heal the internal wounds your daughter had caused you. Beru’s healing magic could only bring a little peace to your sleep, but it could not touch the root of your agony. Without any of these miracles, there was nothing Jinwoo could do but hold your hand and wish he could trade his life with yours. It brought you immense joy to see how everything worked out wonderfully in the end. 

Gratitude washed over you as you took in the sight of your husband trying his best to keep up with your daughter’s babbles. “Slow down, love. Daddy can’t understand you.” 

“She said you looked very magnificent today, my liege,” Beru attempted to interpret. “Very dandy. Truly, the living proof of how a man’s beauty could rival the heavens’—”

“No, she did not say that. And don’t say dandy.” Jinwoo cut him off with an exasperated sigh before he placed his focus back on her. “That’s quite a compelling argument you have there, Sweetie. Is that all, or should I give you some time to vent a bit more?” She answered with two pats on his nose. “You’ve said everything, huh? Right, okay. Hmm… That is certainly a very, very concerning problem. I wonder what we should do about it…” He pretended to think, tapping his chin. “Oh, I know. Why don’t you and I make a little promise? Here.” He held his fifth finger in the air, dragging it closer to her face. “Grab my pinky.” The baby blinked cutely in return, staring at it almost with wonder. It took her all of her tiny fingers to surround his own completely, and like how every baby behaved, she instinctively brought it to her mouth. “No, no, no, honey,” Jinwoo chuckled. “You don’t eat this one, okay? We’re making a promise. A pinky promise, the most special one of all. Are you ready?”

“Weady!”

“That’s the spirit, Sweetheart. All right, here we go.” He shook their fingers together. “Daddy promise that I will come home soon, and once I do, I’ll tell you all about the amazing adventure I had when I was away. All about the bears, and the dragons, everything. How about that, love? Sounds good?” 

Though you doubted she understood everything, she mimicked him by saying, “Good!”

He laughed softly. “Okay. Now, it’s your turn, Princess.” Jinwoo switched his voice, turning it a pitch higher. “I promise I will be good to Mommy when Daddy is away. And I promise I will kick Beru in the face if he ends up watching TV again instead of looking after me.”

“My liege…” The shadow called out dejectedly. “Do you really think I would do such a thing to your precious one?”

“No, I don’t,” Jinwoo tossed him a smile, one that was so genuinely warm, almost affectionate, even. “I know you’ll take care of my family as best as you can. That’s why I trust you, Beru. I’m counting on you.”

It didn’t take long for the soldier to crumble to his feet, bawling. “Y-your kind words have touched me so deeply, my king!”

No one is immune to his charm, you thought, almost rolling your eyes. Though you couldn’t really chaff about it as you fell victim to his charm, too. “Honey, don’t forget. She’ll turn two next Monday. Will you be home by then?”

“Of course,” Jinwoo said, rubbing the tip of his nose to his daughter’s, making her giggle with it. “Clearing an S-rank gate shouldn’t take more than two days, even by myself. The problem is that I have plenty of meetings with the higher-ups after that. It’s a pain. I wish I could just skip them all together, but… Well, if I run out of time, I can use Shadow Exchange to return home.”

You scrunched up your nose. “And ditch your meetings just like that? Wouldn’t that cause more trouble?”

“Yeah, Jinho would probably kill me for it,” he smirked, expressing barely any remorse. “But he’ll understand. He knows that family always comes first to me. I wouldn’t want to miss my baby’s birthday.” He squeezed the round flesh of her cheek between two fingers, smiling fondly with a glint of heartbreak in his eyes. “Daddy’s been so busy with all the raids that he hasn’t noticed how fast his baby girl is growing.” He sighed in regret, stroking her locks. “I wish time could move slower. I want you to stay like this forever. So tiny and adorable, looking so pretty with your mother’s smile.”

“I don’t know, honey. I think she looks more like you than me.”

“I think she’s the perfect combination of us, and I love that.” He gathered both of you close, hugging you at the same time, his lips caressing your hairline as he spoke. “I can’t believe you and I could make something so pretty. I thank the Gods every day for that. For this little family I have right here.”

You could feel the rapid beating of your heart as you buried your face into his chest. His scent was heavenly. Comforting. Masculine and attractive. When he let go, he took a fraction of your heart with him. 

“Daddy will bring you lots and lots of gifts, okay?” He pecked his daughter’s head. “Pretty things for you, and,” his gaze flew back to you, softening at the view. “Something sweet for your mother.”

You melted into a smile. “Just come home to me in one piece. That’s all I ask.”

He nodded, an unspoken promise that he’d keep close to his heart as he viciously took the life of another. “I better go,” he said, carefully handing his baby over to Beru, who clutched onto her so endearingly. “Jinho is waiting for me at the office.”

“Wait, I thought you were heading straight to the airport.”

“No, I need to drop by for a minute to grab some paperwork. I’m also leaving my car there, so.”

“Why don’t you just summon Kaisel?”

“I think it’s better for me to lay low for a bit. I don’t want to end up on the news again. Not everyone is used to seeing a flying beast in the sky, you see. But it’s fine. Jinho will drive me to the airport later.”

“You treating the son of a billionaire as your own Uber driver is still hilarious to me,” you simper.

A wave of his deep chuckle mixed in with yours. “He’s just being nice.”

“Can’t you, at least, sit on the front? I feel sorry for him.”

“But I like sitting in the backseat,” he said, his thumb rubbing circles on the back of your hand, somewhat suggestive. “It reminds me of… the fun we’ve had together.”

Though heat crept up fast onto your cheeks, you narrowed your eyes at him. “If Jinho finds out we did that in his car, he’d be livid.”

“Then, we’ll just have to make sure he doesn’t,” he answered with a sly smirk. “About that last time and… Well, the future ones.”

“Do it in our car next time.” 

“Oh, so there will be future occasions, huh? Noted.” His thin lips twisted in a devilish grin, pleased by the thought, saying it so shamelessly even with Beru bearing witness to the conversation. “Another reason for me to come back, then. Faster.” 

You turned flustered, shaking your head in disbelief despite your chest tightening in anticipation of passionate, spontaneous, breathless romance in the middle of nowhere, your body pressed against the leather seats, your breaths fogging the windows. “I-I take back what I said.”

“No takebacks, Sweetheart. You know I don’t like that.”

He spoke his last sentence almost in a husky, erotic whisper, reminding you of all the times in bed when you didn’t… behave properly. “Jinwoo, you said you didn’t want to be on the news. If we get caught—”

“For this one…” He sneaked an arm around your waist, pulling you closer toward him. His lips grazed your ear, teasing and seductive, almost the perfect imitation of how you did it to him before. “I’ll be very, very careful. Don’t want the world to see just how beautiful my wife looks under the moonlight, after all.” 

You could already tell that his tantalizing smile would linger for hours in your memory, even long after he departed. You cleared your throat, regaining your composure. “I-is Jinho coming with you?”

He found hilarity in the way you swerved the conversation, but he made no comment on it. “No. He wants to, but I won’t let him. It’s too dangerous. I sensed something different with this one, something similar to that eerie feeling when I entered the red gate. It’s better if I go alone. I don’t want to risk anyone’s life by coming with me.”

But you’ll… risk your own life for it… The anchor in your chest returned, weighing you down harder than before. You were careful not to let your tongue form your concern into words, but Jinwoo, as always, was observant, attentive to the slightest change in your expression. 

“Hey.” He trapped your chin between his fingers, tilting it up, locking your gazes together. “It’s dangerous for Jinho, but not me. I’ll be fine, trust me.”

“I know you will,” you murmured, more for your own ears to hear. 

Catching Beru’s soft hum, you glanced to your side. The shadow soldier rocked your baby in his arms, swaying her from side to side, cradling her close as her lids began to grow heavy. “She must have been exhausted after playing all day,” you pondered aloud. Intertwining your fingers with his, you leaned against his shoulder, your sigh heavy as you whispered, “It’s nice to have Beru here with us, but… It also reminds me that you won’t be around. I’ll miss you, probably more than I ever did. I miss you terribly even now.”

For a moment, Jinwoo fell mute, doing nothing but curling his fingers around yours a little tighter. Then, with his jaws tightened, he released his command. 

“Beru, take my daughter inside. I need to be with my wife. Alone.”  ***

Next Chapter

Here's an audio track so you can imagine just how soft and wonderful husband!jinwoo sounds 😁

Beru the babysitter 😭

[shadykazama]

Sun Wukong/The destined one (mostly relationship) headcanons!

The people have spoken and the people crave monkey business. So let's get down to it!

❤

Post journey Wukong is a wiser, stronger monkey, but don't let him fool you he's still a trickster at heart.

When you first meet, he has you refer to him as 'Great Sage'.

Earning the right to say his given name isn't so much a big moment as it is just him beginning to care for you. You slip up, whether it be because you were sick or injured or just not thinking, and he doesn't correct you. In fact he kind of likes it.

He doesn't make a big deal out of it, but if you watch closely you can see his tail twitch and his eyes lost in thought.

One character flaw you'll have to deal with, even when you're just friends, is Wukong thinks he knows what's best. He's old and wisened and POWERFUL; if he thinks he knows something will be best for you, he'll do it without so much as telling you.

Credit to Hanibalistic! Their one shot about Wukong and stealing an immortal peach for a mortal reader was perfect and exactly how I think he'd act! That impulsive, "I care about this person and will do what I think is best for them regardless of the consequences or their opinion" is very... him.

Hey, we all have our flaws. (Just don't tell him that.)

On the positive side, he wouldn't let a scratch befall you. At some point you'll stop instinctually defending yourself because of how safe you feel with him. Which is heavily ironic considering how often he himself will put you in dangerous situations just to pull a prank.

But besides your poor heart from getting scared so often, you have nothing to worry about. Wukong won't leave room for even one mistake to slip by him.

Expect him to never call you by your name, almost ever. He chronically tends to call people by titles or nicknames. From calling the tang monk, master, or how he'd call Bajie 'idiot' for most of the book- just expect something. He'd only refer to you by name if he were really serious.

Something I personally find really funny that isn't represented in many medias with him is that he's OLD. He's old as hell and he knows it. In the book he'll often refer to basically everyone as 'nephew' or 'little brother' which is oddly endearing and also really funny.

I feel as though most people don't utilize how heavy he is- even in movies and stuff. His staff is like thousands of pounds! You aren't moving him unless he wants you to. God forbid you end up cuddling. Even while resting I never think he'd put his full weight on you, but you'd definitely be stuck.

Will never refuse to help you, but will tease you endlessly for needing it. "Helpless little thing aren't you?"

His love language is gift giving and acts of service.

He's impulsive with words, but look at how he treats you and you'll see how he cares.

Considering his connections, expect to have the world at your fingertips. He'll never leave you wanting, you'll always be satisfied. There is no gift beyond his reach. Just be careful what you ask for, because he WILL get it one way or another.

He is a king, a leader- it's basically second nature to be serviced, and that's why it's so important how he acts toward you. For you, he stays vigilant, ready to catch you if you fall or feed you when you're hungry. For you, he'll carry you in his arms if you're tired. For you he'd put himself in servitude.

Monkeys also show affection to one another by grabbing at each other for attention, and grooming one another's hair.

I don't think he'd have any trouble getting your attention, he's very vocal! So he'd focus more on your hair. Don't be surprised if he randomly starts combing through with his fingers or just playing with it. It's calming for him, and another form of affection.

You've changed him for the better... And for the worse. He happier, more content and occupied (which is good for everyone). BUT, should you ever disappear or get stolen from him he would surely devastate heaven and earth to get you back. The last thing anyone needs is another, more wrathful, Wukong rampage.

Expect to get shown off at every convenience! You're his king/queen and he'll make sure everyone knows it.

You have the BIGGEST wedding. And I think the best part would've been the Chuangmen, which is a wedding game tradition, usually meant for the groom to prove his loyalty, devotion, and desire to marry the bride by completing tests made by her bridesmaids. There are a ton of really interesting Chinese wedding traditions that I would recommend reading about, but with the sheer power of Wukong, these challenges in particular could've been absolutely ridiculous!

Wukong isn't jealous, no that would be ridiculous, he has nothing to fear. That by no means doesn't mean that he doesn't get offended on your behalf. He's gotten upset at not being greeted properly, there's no way in HELL he doesn't get pissed if someone were to flirt with you. They're lucky if all he does is kill them.

Feel free to make fun of him for not being able to swim. He'll absolutely make you regret it, but do it anyway it'll be funny.

Am I the only one that thinks he'd be great with kids? 🤚

Like COME ON- the dude probably helps take care of the baby monkeys on his mountain. He tells them cool stories to get them riled up. Will lay down and let them play with his hair while you read or sing to him.

Give this man kids I dare you.

That's a topic for a different post 😌

Likes kissing you on the top of the head, will also lay his forehead against yours just to be close to you.

These two designs I really like for him! Y'all let me know in the comments which version is your favorite <3

💙

The destined one may look like Wukong, but they're certainly different in... most areas.

Being selectively mute makes things a good share more difficult to communicate with him than Wukong, but it has it's charms.

You'd just been... tagging along with him. He didn't mind, unlike the wolves and undead he'd been beating through, you proved no threat to him.

He figured you would just leave on your own- or die. But by some miracle even he didn't understand, you stuck by him through rain and dust storms alike. By the time you made it to the New West he felt obligated to keep you around.

For the first time since you started following him, you were actually in danger. And to both of your surprises, he dropped what he was doing to protect you.

Don't bother asking him why. Whether you do, or simply tell him thank you, he'll just wave you off. But you notice him walking closer to you than normal after that. No longer were you left to catch up with him while he sprinted off; he'd keep stride with you now, glancing at you every now and then.

He CAN talk, and he probably surprises you the first time he does. It's not even for something important. It's just one fateful night where you happen to decide to mess with his hair. You'd pull away after a moment and he'd rumble out a little, "Don't stop."

Now that you KNOW he can talk, it's even more annoying when he refuses to answer you.

He finds it amusing when you get frustrated with him about it. He can't help it. The whole time you're grumbling or ranting at him, he's just staring at you with his stoic face... thinking about how cute you are.

Feel free to give him a name. Not like he'll argue with whatever you pick-

But really, please call him something other than "the destined one". He'd never really needed a name before, but he'd treasure whatever you decide to call him.

He probably has a nickname for you too, he just only says it in his head...

Will click his tongue at you to get your attention. (Absolutely does the 'tsk tsk tsk' thing people do to call their cats)

Speaking of getting your attention- ^ remember how monkeys show affection by just kind of grabbing each other and squeezing and pressing their head against each other?

Yeeeeah. He's a touchy monkey. He won't ask for affection, so he kind of just does it himself. Will rub his head on you, not unlike how cats or rabbits do to mark things they like. Except he's just doing it to be affectionate.

Gets cuteness aggression and WILL just grab you.

If it wasn't obvious, his love languages are physical touch and quality time.

Doesn't need help putting armor on, but if you want to help he won't stop you. (The closeness makes his heart beat fast)

If you were ever both in a bad spot- being threatened and not in a place to put up a good fight, he'd cover your body with his and bare his fangs at whatever was trying to hurt you guys to intimidate it. (It probably wouldn't work- but it's an instinctual response.)

If your feet got cold in the snow in the New West he'd pick you up and let you rest on his back for awhile.

Likes when you rely on him like that, it makes him feel stronger. And besides it just "being his destiny", knowing you'll get hurt if he loses helps him focus during fights.

Terribly jealous individual.

The glare he would give someone is straight up deadly. Watch out for how his tail flicks around when he's irritated too 🤭.

Absolutely adores the sound of your voice, it could bring him out of a coma fr.

Doesn't mind being little or big spoon, he just likes cuddling. Wraps his tail around you when you do.

Always always makes sure you eat before he does, even though he's the one doing all the fighting.

Will let you win play fights (most of the time).

Hearing him laugh is the cutest thing ever I swear- It probably took you off guard the first time you manage it.

Doesn't know how to take compliments.

Probably short circuited the first time you complimented his appearance.

Very gentle, slow kisser. Likes having you in his lap, but will grab cheeky kisses every now and then too. Will tilt your chin up when you kiss, every time.

Art by @marcu-bug

[pleasantlycrazyworld]

He can't be that animalistic...can he?

This is inspired by @grapejollyrancher post I hope I did it justice <3 request are open and if you'd like to be added to my taglist just lmk!!! if you do enjoy my work please like, comment, and reblog! It really helps me want to continue posting on here

Logan's thoughts are italicized. Kinda smutty

Summary: reader can hear animals thoughts but all of the sudden she can hear Logan's thoughts too.

You developed your powers when you were young. It was scary at first. Hearing random voices in your head would scare anyone, but the things you heard were so weird usually. You would hear a voice asking for a treat, to be scratched behind the ear, or to be let inside. When you met Charles, he helped you learn how to talk back, this was a big advantage when it came to missions in places like the woods or a jungle but for the most part you never needed to demand the animals to do anything for you they just seemed to like you and wanted to keep you safe.

It had been a while since you got scared by what you heard. You were walking to your room one night from the kitchen when a deep voice echoed through your head. You jumped slightly and tried to listen to what was being asked, 'fuck who drank my last beer?' confusion filled you. What kind of animal would be around the mansion...and looking for beer? You continued to your room and tried to get some sleep while thinking of what just happened.

The next incident happened a few days later. You had just finished your shower after working out, and it was currently only you and Logan in the living room discussing what you should do for dinner when everyone else got back. During your discussion, that deep voice echoed through your head again. 'fuck she smells so good, smells fucking sweet, bet she fucking taste just as sweet too...fuck wait what did she say?' You could see the moment Logan snapped back into the conversation.

"You could make that lasagna in the freezer. it should be big enough for everyone." 'Know something else big enough for you, princess'

You can't respond. You just completely freeze. How did you get access to Logan's thoughts? He can't be that much of an animal.... can he?

Logan was completely confused as to why you were blushing so brightly. His eyebrows furrowed, and his head tilted slightly. You were talking about dinner, which made you so flustered?

You quickly left to start making dinner to try and forget about this new discovery, but you can't get it out of your head. When did this start? Why did it start? Why is it only with him and not also with Scott or Charles? Is it because Logan is so animalistic? Why are you so damn flustered?!

Logan followed you into the kitchen to check on you. "Bub? Is everything okay?" He innocently placed his hand on your waist, and under his fingertips, he could feel you shiver gently. "fuck" you both whispered under your breath. Logan hears you clearly and his eyes widen.

How did he not notice? He was so concerned, thinking something was wrong, but nothing was truly wrong. "Princess...are you wet for me?" He asked with a smirk, already knowing the answer to the question. He pulled you closer to him and felt a sense of pride when you followed his lead so easily. Logan pressed himself against you, allowing you to feel the effect you have on him.

As he is pressed against you, he nuzzled his nose into your neck, taking your scent in even more than before. "Fuck you really do smell so goddamn sweet princess, i need to taste you...need to taste your sweetness" he growled into your ear as he nipped at your lobe. "Can I? Will you let me have a taste, baby?" He begged as his voice deepened in desire.

The room has gotten so much hotter than before and it's not because the oven is preheating. "Logan" you whimper "I-your thoughts, I just-" as you try to stutter out a response Logan lets a raspy chuckle out that shake your entire body since it was pressed so closed to his chest, "Oh princess, been hearing me? hearing what I've been wanting to do to this pretty pussy?" He asked as he left wet kisses along your neck. You nod against him, "Logan please" you whined louder making him pull away. "Let's take this to my room" he turned around and turned off the oven before picking you up and carrying you to his bed.

He dropped you onto his mattress and as he started to undress you were able to take in your surroundings. The bed was more like a nest with how he had his blankets and pillows piled up, his scent surrounded you completely and you knew that once you walked out of this room you would be completely marked in more way than one. Maybe Logan is more animalistic than you originally thought.

Taglist:

@userchai

@mahi-tamashi

@100percentlazybonez

@lanassmarty

@western-pyro

@misscrissfemmefatale

@marit332

@navs-bhat

@fluffy-b33z

[youthguk]

📚queen of the fall | jjk (m)

rating: 🔞 MINORS DNI

pairing: Professor!Jungkook x Student!Reader

genre: smut, academia, degradation, manipulation

warnings:  dumbification kink, dubcon, manipulation, professor/student relationship, degradation, spanking, slapping (face & ass), choking, orgasm control, praise kink, punishment, use of red pen, extremely questionable academia, use of "good girl" / "fucktoy", very little plot, no protection, power imbalance, do not romanticize in real life

words: 2,4 k

summary: you're a straight-A student that begins to spiral under the control of her dangerously young math professor. As your grades slip, so does your mind

author’s note: this one was requested , never written something like this before🖤 feedback is very welcomed

You were never the type to fail.

Top of your class since high school. Internships. Dean’s list. Professors who praised your essays and peers who hated how easily you could dissect theories and build arguments like cathedrals. You were the kind of student others envied—except in his class.

Professor Jeon.

Linear Algebra.

The first red pen to ever slash across your papers like a wound.

He never raised his voice. Never humiliated you in front of others. Just circled your errors in delicate ink and left quiet notes in the margins that felt like whispers against your neck.

"You’re overthinking. Again."

"Try feeling the pattern instead of solving it."

Try feeling math? What the hell did that even mean?

But now you’re in his office after hours, because you “need help,” and he didn’t even look surprised when you asked. Just told you to close the door and sit down.

That was fifteen minutes ago.

And now the chalkboard is full, your mind is spinning, and he’s standing behind you with a voice like velvet and fingertips that brush your wrist when you make a mistake.

"Tell me again," Jungkook murmurs, voice low, warm against your ear. "What’s the integral of x squared?"

You swallow. Stare at the board. Blink hard. You know this. You do.

But his hand is resting on your thigh now—firm and slow, thumb stroking circles just beneath your skirt like it has every right to be there.

"I…" You bite your lip. Try again. "Um. Three—no. Wait. Two x… cubed?"

He chuckles—quiet, amused. “That’s not even a number.”

You flinch. “I’m trying—”

“Don’t.” He cuts you off gently, like he’s scolding a pet. “You’re not here to think. Not anymore.”

Your breath catches as he leans down, lips grazing your jaw.

“You’re here to learn how to obey,” he says, like it's the most natural thing in the world. “To let go of that precious brain and let me fill it with something useful.”

His hand moves higher, and your thoughts slip lower, your thighs already pressing together, desperate and dizzy.

“See,” he whispers, “this is what you’ve always wanted, isn’t it? A reason to stop trying so hard. To just be soft. Pretty. Good.”

A whimper escapes your lips before you can stop it.

“That’s right,” he coos. “No more pressure. No more pretending to understand. Just say what I tell you to say.”

You nod helplessly.

“Say you’re my dumb little student.”

“I’m—” Your throat burns with shame. With heat. “I’m your dumb little student.”

“Good girl,” he growls, hand sliding under your panties now. “Let’s see how many times I have to fuck the thoughts out of you before you finally get it right.”

✧

"You’re not stupid," he murmurs behind you. His palm rests on the back of your chair, caging you in without touching your skin. "You’re just overwhelmed. That little brain of yours is working too hard."

Your breath catches. You’re not sure when you stopped actually reading the equation on the board. You just hear him—feel him—too close, too much.

"Let me help," Jungkook says, and his hand slides to your shoulder, warm and steady. Then lower. Tracing down your arm, your wrist, until he reaches your pencil and plucks it from your fingers. "No more thinking. Just listen."

He sets the pencil aside. Both hands find your waist now. The chair squeaks faintly as he pulls you back—gently, like you’re something fragile. Your spine grazes his chest, and you can feel him already—hard, thick, pressed right against the curve of your ass.

"You’ve been trying so hard to keep up, haven’t you?" he murmurs into your hair. "Fighting so hard to stay the smartest girl in the room." His hand slips under your skirt, finding your thigh. "And for what?"

You gasp when his fingers find the damp patch of your panties. He laughs under his breath, like he’s not surprised at all.

"This is what you really needed," he growls, dragging the fabric aside. "Not another lecture. Not another textbook."

Two fingers slip inside you, slow and filthy.

"This."

You moan. Helpless. Disarmed.

"That brain’s melting already, isn’t it?" he whispers, thrusting them deeper. "Feels good to stop pretending. To just take what I give you."

You nod, trembling, words failing. He pulls out and drags your slick across your clit, lazy and cruel.

"Say it," he demands, low and dark. "Say you want to be dumb for me."

You gasp, try to resist the shame, but it’s already too late. "I—I want to be dumb for you."

He smiles like a sin rewarded. "Good girl."

He undoes his belt slowly, the clink of metal loud in the quiet room. You brace your hands on the edge of the desk, legs trembling.

And then he slides inside you in one sharp thrust—deep, ruthless, perfect. You cry out, back arching, nails scraping the wood.

"That’s it," he growls, gripping your hips, fucking into you like he owns every inch. "No more answers. No more formulas. Just moan. Just take it."

You do.

You forget everything.

And when he leans over you, lips at your ear, thrusts brutal and steady, he whispers your new lesson like a prayer:

"You don’t have to think anymore. Not when I can do it for you."

✧

You sit in the second row now. Not the front—you can’t handle the front. Not with the way your thighs still ache from the way he gripped them, from the hours you spent bent over his desk, learning with your body what your mind had refused to retain.

Your notebook lies open in front of you, but the lines blur. Your pen hasn’t moved in ten minutes.

Every time he speaks, your core clenches.

Jungkook’s voice has always been deep. Calm. Measured. But now you hear other things in it—how he growled when you moaned too loud, how he told you to open your legs wider, baby, you don’t need to be shy now, how he laughed when you lost the ability to count.

Your cheeks flush hot. You look down, try to take notes, try to focus.

But your hand shakes. You write the number 7 backward. You don’t even notice until you hear it:

"Interesting answer," he says, loud enough for only you to hear. "Didn’t realize we were working in reverse math today."

Your head jerks up.

He’s watching you.

Expression unreadable. Mouth curved just slightly, like he’s in on a joke no one else in the room could begin to understand. Like your body still belongs to him, even from fifteen feet away.

You flush deeper. Try to speak. Fail.

He turns back to the board.

"Moving on."

But you can’t move on. You’re soaked beneath your skirt. You haven’t been able to sit properly all morning. And every time he glances your way, you wonder if he’s remembering how you sounded when you begged him not to stop.

“I’ll be good, I swear, I’ll stop thinking, just please—”

The worst part?

You meant it.

You still do.

✧

It’s a Wednesday. Rain against the windows. Half the class grumbling into coffee cups.

But not you.

You’re already trembling—because he walks in holding a stack of papers.

"Pop quiz," Jungkook announces, tone casual, almost bored. "Ten minutes. No calculators."

A ripple of groans moves through the room.

But his eyes find yours—and stick.

Ten minutes later, you’re staring at the third question. It’s written in a format you’ve never seen before. The numbers twist in on themselves like a dare. You know he wrote it for you. Just for you. Something impossible.

Your pulse pounds between your legs instead of your ears.

You circle a wrong answer. Deliberately.

You don’t even finish the rest.

And when he collects the pages, his fingers brush yours for one fraction of a second. His eyes stay cold.

But later that night, a message hits your phone:

My office. 9 PM. Wear something easy to take off.

✧

The door slams shut behind you, but he doesn’t greet you.

Doesn’t even look at you.

Professor Jeon sits at his desk, sleeves rolled, shirt half-unbuttoned, reading through a thick stack of papers like you’re not even there.

You stand in silence. Hands trembling.

"Skirt off," he says, eyes still on the page. “Now.”

You obey. Slowly. Silently. Shame curling in your belly like a fist.

"Panties too."

They fall to your ankles.

Finally, he looks up.

His gaze is cold. Calculating. Void of the teasing affection you used to cling to.

"You think you’re clever?” he asks. “You think I don’t notice when a straight-A student suddenly forgets how to multiply?”

You flush. “I just—”

“Don’t lie.” He stands.

One second you’re trembling by the desk—then your chest slams against the cold surface as he bends you over it, face pressed to the wood. A stack of graded quizzes topples to the floor.

“You’re a liar and a failure,” Jungkook growls. “But at least one of those finally turns you on.”

He slaps your ass—hard. The sound cracks through the room like thunder.

You yelp, tears springing to your eyes.

Another slap. Then another.

“You think being dumb is cute now? Think it makes me want to coddle you?”

His belt comes next. You hear the hiss of it through the loops before you feel it lash across your thighs—fast, sharp, cruel.

You cry out.

He groans darkly behind you. “That’s what I want to hear. Real failure.”

You try to twist away—instinct—but his hand pins you down by the back of your neck.

"You wanna be used like the idiot you’re pretending to be?" he growls, grinding his cock against your ass through his slacks. "Then stay still."

He doesn’t prep you. Doesn’t ease you in. He fucks into you like he owns the space between your legs—like it exists onlyfor him.

And the worst part?

He’s right. You sob. Moan. Grind back. Each thrust is brutal. Precise. Designed to punish. Designed to teach.

"Bet you can't even remember your own name now, can you?"

You shake your head, breathless, drooling, wrecked.

"That’s what I thought."

He grabs a red pen from the desk, presses it to your spine.

"Let’s see if I can mark you better than the quiz."

He draws down your back. Arrows. Symbols. Maybe even equations—who knows? Your brain has shut down. You’re nothing now but body and heat and shame and him.

And when you come—loud, broken, stupid—you don’t even realize you’re sobbing out numbers between gasps.

Wrong ones.

And he lets you.

Your cheek sticks to the wood, breath fogging the polished surface. Your skirt is still bunched around your hips. His cum leaks down the inside of your thigh.

You don’t move.

Can’t.

Your mind is a puddle. Your limbs useless. And behind you, you hear him sit back down like nothing happened.

Chair creaks. Pages rustle.

He’s grading.

You blink, slow and dizzy. One red mark bleeds through a paper beside your face, but you can’t even read the words. Can’t think. Your vision swims.

Jungkook doesn’t look at you.

He hums softly under his breath, pen tapping in rhythm. “Another one missed the matrix inversion. Pathetic,” he mutters. “Not even close.”

You whimper—pathetic in your own right—but he doesn’t react.

Only when a droplet hits the paper beside you—tear or sweat, you’re not sure—does he pause. Just for a beat.

“You’re still here?” he says, voice low, not even mocking. Just bored.

You try to push yourself up. Legs shake. Arms give.

He finally looks at you, then—just a flick of his eyes.

Not pity.

Possession.

"Leave your panties on the chair,” he says. “And don’t bother studying for the next quiz. You’ll fail it, too."

You nod.

You don’t even try to wipe your face.

You just do as you're told.

✧

He doesn’t let you speak.

Doesn’t let you step fully inside.

Just grabs your arm the moment you enter, slams the door shut, and presses your back to it. His mouth finds your throat, his hand slides straight up your skirt, and his fingers plunge inside without a word.

“You’re leaking before I’ve even touched you properly,” he mutters, lips dragging over your jaw. “Did failing get you wet again?”

You nod, dizzy. Dripping. Gone.

He pulls away. Just long enough to slap you—once—across the face.

Not hard enough to hurt. But hard enough to stun.

Your lips part in shock.

“You don’t nod when I ask you something,” he growls. “You answer.”

“Yes,” you breathe. “It— it made me wet. I’m sorry—”

“You’re not sorry.” He shoves two fingers into your mouth. “But you will be.”

Then he flips you around again—face to the door, skirt around your waist—and fucks you right there, standing. One hand around your throat. The other still holding your last quiz.

He reads it aloud between thrusts.

“‘Let A be an n by n matrix...’ Jesus. You didn’t even try. Didn’t even attempt the determinant.”

You moan—loud, raw.

“You like being stupid for me that much?”

“Yes,” you sob. “Please—please use me—”

“Oh, I will.”

He drops the paper. Tightens his grip.

“From now on, you come here after every quiz you fail,” he growls. “And you will fail them. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Professor.”

“You’re not a student anymore.”

He thrusts deeper.

“You’re a fucktoy with a GPA.”

.

.

 if you enjoy my writing, you can support me here and get early access to chapters and exclusive stories 🖤

♡ 

send requests for drabbles and one-shots here

[sterifels-blog]

warnings ⚠️

•nsfw! 🔞 please do not interact if you are not 18+ ❤️ you are not my responsibility.

creepypasta

REQUESTED: how they'd react if you ask them what their favorite (body) part of you is.

bloody painter

•he would say your hands. he's intrigued by your fingers, as odd as it may seem. not so much the looks of them; but instead the power they wield. "you have such delicate hands for someone so strong... makes me wonder what they could do if they weren't holding a brush." the implication is there— and, it's more of an invitation then a question. he knows what you're capable of- but he thinks he's being smooth about the fact he wants your hand wrapped around his cock.

•soft, but possessive touches: he'll hold your hand in his and trace the lines of your palm with his thumb, enjoying the way your skin feels against his rougher hand. he's not always filthy- infact, he washes his hands more that you're around. he knows you can't stand the feeling of blood smearing all over yours off of his.

•places gentle kisses on your knuckles. he'll press a kiss to your knuckles after you've done something for him, silently showing gratitude in his own way. alternatively; as he's bumping his hips to snap his pelvis tight against your own— more-so panting onto your fingers as he holds them to his parted lips. he's grunting at how good you feel, his brows tight-- and knitted together while placing soft kisses to your fingertips. bro loves you.

•admiring the art of your hands: if you paint (hopefully, with normal supplies), he'll watch you carefully, entranced by the way your fingers move across the canvas. "i like how you create... i like how you touch things."

•okay brother. calm down.

•handcuff scenario: if he's feeling possessive, he might tie your hands just to keep you close, though it's always with a Iight touch, as if savoring the moment. it's that, or he's got you in his lap- your back pressed to his chest as one of his hands keeps your wrists pulled together, and the other is brushing hair out of the way so he can kiss your neck.

•earning affection: "i know these hands could do so much more, if i let you." a quiet invitation to explore.

clockwork

•she'd say your eyes. clockwork has a dark fascination with them, and she isnt shy about making that clear: "your eyes... they've seen more than i can imagine, and yet they still hold something innocent about them." she has no issue with tainting that innocence- although she chooses to cherish it for herself, opting to keep your mind safe and away from others. your eyes only on her.

•intense gaze: she'll lock her eyes on yours, not breaking contact, as if studying you. it's like she's searching for something deep within, and it makes you feel exposed, yet strangely desired. she'll be kissing from your sternum down to your pelvis, her nails dragging along your bare sides as she relishes in the feeling of your fluttering skin against her lips.

•her lip gloss paints your stomach in a shimmery raspberry hue as she kisses your skin, her thumbs digging into your hips as they massage in slow circles.

•she's huge on teasing: "i could lose myself in them, but you'd never let me. you'd just pull away, wouldn't you?" she won't give you much of an option to pull away. she'll have you on your knees in front of her, her hand cupped under your chin as she admires the tremble of excitement that rushes down your spine.

•gentle, longing touches. she gently cups your face, forcing you to keep eye contact "i could make you see things- things you don't want to. but... you trust me, don't you?"

•when you inevitably agree with her— saying that you do trust her, her hands are parting your thighs, shamelessly sighing as her tongue traces lazy drags against your clit and labia. (she's definitely the type to write her name with her tongue, over and over until you're whining for her to do something other than tease. you're not talking at all after that)

•behind-the-scenes power: "if you look away, i'Il only make it worse. keep looking... you're mine, aren't you?"

eyeless jack

•thoughtful to say your throat. jack has an intense interest with your neck/throat. he can't stop staring at your throat, where he knows your pulse beats, so close to the surface- so easy to cut off if he so much as squeezed you hard enough. if he so much as twisted your head quick enough to cause dissection. not that he ever would- no, no. such horrific things are only reserved for his victims- but his medical knowledge often gets the better of him when intimate with your body.

•gentle but dangerous touch. he'll graze his fingers lightly along the curve of your throat, his thumb brushing the side of your neck as though testing your response. he'll hum— his nail digging softly into the prominent vein on the side of your neck, leaning down to nuzzle his nose against it as though smelling the metallic flow from the outer-shell of your skin. he doesn’t say anything, but the way his hand squeezes is word enough. jack loves you, he's made it clear over and over again- but often, he still finds it necessary to remind you that you both are different. un-alike.

•dangerous affection: "i know the veins here so well... it's almost like could just.." he might trail his fingers over your throat, his mind going to darker places as he tightens the grip he has on you to just beneath your chin, tilting your head back with a little groan into your ear. he brushes your baby hairs away from the base of your neck, leaning in to place a kiss against the base of your skull, panting with hearty breaths whilst his hips rut slow, sloppy grinds against the cheeks of your ass.

•alternatively, he’s got your legs kicked apart, his own feet placed between yours as to ensure that you don't try and squeeze them shut. pinned to him, your back against his chest— jack doesn't let you loose as his fingers swirled wide circles around your clit. his teeth graze at your ear, murmuring quietly about how easy you were for him. predictable. and you were.

•teasing whispers: he'll lean close to your ear and murmur, "your pulse is fast... what's got you worked up? it's just me.."

•holds your throat while he's fucking into you from behind.

hoodie

•your ass. zero shame, zero hesitation: hoodie doesn't even try to hide it, "you've got the best ass i've ever seen. why wouldn't i look? you should be flattered."

•he's hands-on at all times. whenever you walk past him, his hand is right there. sometimes, he gives it a playful squeeze, other times a sharp smack that makes you jump. "what? you're the one who walked by me like that."

•you, in fact, didn't even walk by. he's the one who walked by you. too many times, will you give him silence in return for his tomassery– and each time, he does the same thing. he'll come up behind you, apologetically (🤥) sliding his hands down your waist to cup your ass as he presses a kiss to the back of your neck. "you know i'm just teasing.."

•favorite pose? you straddling his lap. he loves when you sit on him, especially facing away so he can rest his hands on your hips— or further down. "you're making it really hard to focus, you know. not that i'm complaining.."

•and he isn't complaining, especially when he’s able to bend you over the counter later that night, groaning and grunting as he 'thanks' you for the meal you'd cooked for him after a long mission assigned by the operator. he's tired, sure; but he always has some extra stamina stored away for times like this. seeing your ass bounce on his hips as his dick bullies against your g-spot is worth every bit of energy he has left.

•constant touching: if you're lying on your stomach, he's lying next to you, his hand lazily draped over your lower back and sliding lower.

•pulling you closer: if you're standing in front of him, he'll wrap an arm around your waist and pull you back against him, hands wandering. "c'mere. you're too far away. yeah, that's better."

jason the toymaker

•your hands

•craftsman’s admiration: “your hands... so delicate, yet so full of life. they could create so much beauty... if i allowed you.” his voice carries both fascination and a subtle possessiveness, enjoying how wrapped around his fingers you were. the innuendo is there, integrated in his words. why would you need to touch yourself when he was there to do all you wished for you?

•very gentle with his touches. he loves to take your hands in his, running his fingers over the smooth skin, almost as if memorizing every line and curve. the type of guy to intertwine your fingers with his own as he keeps your wrists pinned to the bed— huffing against your neck with steady, deep thrusts. loves kissing behind your ear, grumbling about how good you take him- make him feel.

•kisses to your palms. jason has a habit of turning your hand over and pressing slow, deliberate kisses to your palm. “such beautiful hands… wasted on anything but me.” definitely prompts you into giving him a hand job, obsessive over the way your fingers feel curled around him. he thoroughly can't get enough of you, and arm wrapped lazily around your waist as he sits you in his lap for a slow makeout.

•mild.. obsession: he’ll watch you when you’re doing anything with your hands—writing, sketching, even cooking. “it’s mesmerizing, really. i could watch you all day.”

•into playful (but freaky ass) control. jason likes to guide your hands when you’re working on something, his larger hands enveloping yours. “here, let me show you how to do it properly. not that you’re bad at it… i'm just better.” this applies to the bedroom, where he's guiding your hand; curling your fingers only when he allows you to.

•possessive comments: “these hands belong to me, no? no one else gets to feel them, hold them, or be touched by them.”

jeff the killer

•dangerous attraction to your thighs: "your thighs... they look so soft. i bet they'd feel even better wrapped around me." and they do— whether they are clung at the sides of his head, or straddling his hips as he helps you ride him after a particularly high stress day. he loves them more than anything else in the world.

•gentle possessiveness.. he'll casually run his hands over your thighs, his fingers lingering just a little too long as if marking territory. does it especially when you are all sitting in a group. if given the opportunity, he'll have you tucked between him and the arm of the couch, your legs slung over his own so his hand can rub up and down yours.

•plenty of flirtatious teasing: "how tight do you think those legs could squeeze, huh? show me, and i'II make it worth your while."

•when you go about showing him- he makes it a point to keep you at his disposal until you're too satisfied to complain about anything. his tongue is useful for talking— but it is just as skillful when it's dipped between your thighs, running between your folds until you're squeezing his head so tight, he was sure his skull would crack.

•loves giving you kisses to the inner thigh. on a whim, he might press a soft kiss to the inside of your thigh, just to feel the warmth of your skin. after a particularly strenuous night of.. events, it's a subtle gesture of appreciation

•"i can't help it. your thighs are just... perfect. i think i could spend all day here, don't you?"

•mock care: if he's feeling particularly mischievous, he'll gently squeeze them and say, "relax. i'Il be gentle. for now."

jane the killer

•playfully seductive: "these hips of yours.. i could write a book about how perfect they are." she smirks as her hands glide along them, leaving goosebumps in her wake. by far, they are the most favorable thing on your body in her eyes- apart from the obvious sentiment of your breasts. she thinks the proportions of them match you perfectly.

•possessive hold. jane has a habit of gripping your hips firmly, puling you closer until there's no space between you- mainly around the others of the household. there is no denying that you're hers- but it is still in her nature to be competitive over that fact, especially with her other-sex counterpart being present. "you feel so good against me. don't think i'Il let go anytime soon."

•slow in admiration. her fingers trace the curve of your hips, almost reverently. "every inch of you is stunning, but this.. this drives me insane." you're hovered over her- sweat dripping down your spine and dampening the roots of your hair as her hands guide you in a rocking motion. they are clasped tightly to your hips, nails, digging into your flesh as she encourages you to tuck in your core. she doesn't mind doing the messy work of bouncing you on her strap, so long as numbs you into that blissful state.

•dually stimulates your clit just to see them buck.

•sultry whispers while standing behind you. she'll lean in, lips brushing against your ear as her sleek nails tickled your hips with repetitive strokes. "these hips were made for my hands, don’t you think? hm?"

•when things heat up, her focus always finds its way to your hips, her kisses trailing along the curves as her grip tightens. "you have no idea what you do to me." jane's eyes linger on your hips like they're the most captivating thing in the world.

kagekao

•your mouth and messy kisses. kagekao loves kissing you- rough, messy, and without warning. he thrives on the way he can leave you breathless and completely flustered. it comes of good use when you two are arguing. you'd been rambling about something- not that he was listening; but he captured the gist of you bitching about how he was leaving the house a mess. guilty— of course he was; but he wasn't going to acknowledge it. "can't talk now, can you?"

•shutting you up: secondary to a kiss, if you're rambling or talking back, he'll cut you off with a hand against your mouth; putting you into momentary silence. it is only when his hand moves to tug at the buckle of his belt do you understand where he is truly going with it. your mouth, around him- is as good as it is while talking. as skillful as your insults- just more quiet apart from the occasional gag to fuel his ego.

•playfully dominant. he's a master of teasing you into silence, brushing his thumb over your lips and smirking. "these lips of yours are dangerous... but i like the way they feel under mine." he's cheesy because he knows it gets you going. you'll cuss him out, commencing a back-and-forth between the two of you. and as much as he enjoys shutting you up— it is, unfortunately, your 'arguments' that get him swollen and tight in his slacks.

•messy control: if you're mid-argument, he'll pin you against a wall and kiss you hard enough to stop the words from coming. "i don't care what you were going to say." he's a bit of an asshole— and when it comes to an actual confliction, you're often pushing him away as to voice your opinion.

•obsession with your voice: he's addicted to the way your lips move when you talk (+ the sound of it), and he often stares shamelessly. "keep talking- let me watch those pretty lips of yours."

•if it's been a while since he's last seen you; and you have the chance to speak to him over the phone, he's 100% not opposed to rubbing one out with you on the line. he'll go silent, listening to you ramble on about something that seems insignificant compared to the raging throb of his erection. mindlessly hums in agreement to something he shouldn't have— and gets startled when you begin scolding him over the phone.

laughing jack

•jack has a shameless fixation on your legs, especially if you're blessed with some extra height. "your legs just go on forever, don't they? makes me want to see how far they can wrap around me." his words are said with a wicked grin, no shame in his tone. if you're smaller, no worries about it— he's still intrigued about how many positions he can wrangle you into, especially with your smaller size being an accommodation.

•loves, loves, loves having you up against the wall. it's not the most practical position- but he has the strength to pull it off. at no point in time will your feet be touching the ground. your legs are slung over his hips, and mercilessly, jack is giving you no time between breaths as he fucks in and out of you. he'd been worked up over a dress you'd worn out with jane; the gap of time from which you returned— to then being railed furiously almost nonexistent.

•the stupid cunt is constant teasing: he'll comment on how your legs look in any outfit especially if they're bare. "oh, you're just showing them off today, aren't you? that's just cruel." he especially loves seeing you in skirts or short dresses. a tight pair of pants will still do justice- outlining your figure, but seeing your skin is an entirely different experience for him.

•obsessive attention. runs his hands along your thighs and calves, almost like he's worshiping them, while making playful, almost mocking comments. "so soft.. are you sure you're strong enough to be here?" he knows you are, he has no sincere doubts that you've earned your place amongst the bunch; but it intrigues him how someone as hard working as yourself could have any aspect of a gentle physic leftover.

•payful biting: he'll nip at your legs from your calvee to your thighs, just to watch you squirm. "what? can't handle a little attention?"

•restless fascination: loves having his head in your lap, running his hands up and down your legs, letting out an exaggerated sigh. "how am i supposed to behave with these perfect legs right in front of me?"

•a good smack to the head will do it.

masky

•masky has an obvious fixation on your breasts. he won't even try to hide it. when you're in close quarters, his eyes are always drawn to your chest, and he'll casually glance at them before meeting your eyes, smirking. "could you be any less distracting?"

•shameless touching: he's the type to casually rest his hand on your chest when in private, grinning like it's the most natural thing in the world. if you're not paying attention, he'll give them a slight squeeze and say, "couldn't resist, sorry." which, is a lie. he's fully capable of resisting- but with you, he doesn't care much to.

•throughly enjoys having you ride him. if not only to see the way your face twists up in pleasure; then, to see the way your breasts bounce with each desperate thrust you chase after.

•loves seeing you in workout clothes— especially something like a workout bra that cups your breasts exceptionally. he'll come up behind you, hands wandering from your sides, and against your ribs to your breasts, his fingers fondling with the under-band of your bra appreciatively. places soft kisses on the back of your neck, humming in approval as he relishes in the sight of his palms engulfing your chest in the gym mirror.

•unapologetic flirting: "look real fucking good in that top. deserve some attention, don't you think?" he'll lean in close, just to make it clear that he's very aware of what he's doing- not that you had any doubts.

•although secondary pleasure wasn't normally accommodated on his schedule (nor does he have a high drive for it)– when you gave him a tit job for the first time; he swore he was knocking on heavens door. he could hardly keep himself from giving in too early- grunting and huffing as he dragged on his cigarette, prolonging his climax for as long as he could. cusses the entire time, groaning about how good you were.

•proximity: when he sleeps, he'll have his face tucked against your collarbone, his arms wrapped around you as his nose divets to your sternum.

slenderman

•control obsession: he’s drawn to your wrists, knowing just how delicate they are and how easily he can take control. he loves— and definitely gets off on the feeling of holding them tightly, guiding you however he sees fit. “your wrists are so fragile... better reason for you to listen"

•possessive in his grip. slenderman will sometimes just stand behind you, his long fingers brushing your wrists in a possessive, almost ritualistic manner, ensuring you feel his presence without him saying a word. he might even trace your veins as if marking them as his own— otherwise, silently reminding you of your merciless place beneath him.

•soft yet firm restraint. if you’re not paying attention, he’ll slip his tendril around your wrists with a cold, firm grip, keeping you in place. his touch is both controlling and almost comforting, as if trying to stake a claim over you that is inevitable. keeps you from moving too much, because it “makes it easier to work with you.”

•tying you up: there’s something about restraining you with ropes or simple threads that bores him. he's more into using his tentacles— wrapping them around your wrists slowly, ensuring it’s just tight enough to restrict movement. it’s a methodical and precise act. “you’ll stay still. you can handle this, can you not?"

•borderline sadistic during intercourse with you. overstimulation is a guarantee— his tentacles cuffing your wrists together as you squirm on the silk of his bedding. relentless. your breaths heave in desperation as his thumb circled your clit for what felt like hellish hours on end, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes that he brushes away with little care- only after they'd began to trail down your cheeks.

•fingers that linger: when he’s guiding you through a task, his fingers press against the soft skin of your wrist, sending shivers up your spine. it’s a constant reminder of his dominance and the way he can bend you to his will with little effort. sits you between his legs and has you ride his fingers, kissing the flat surface of your inner wrist.

•silent manipulation: whether you’re walking or sitting, his hands will often find their way to your wrists. the way his fingers curl around them feels almost hypnotic, leaving you unsure if it’s affection or an underlying threat.

ticci toby

•possessive grip: toby's hands will find their way to your chest, casually gripping them as if it's the most casual thing in the world. he's not gentle, but not rough either— just firm enough to feel like he's marking his territory. "i like having you close. ganz in der nähe" the words may seem innocent enough, but they are the furthest thing from it.

•soft, but intense. if you're in his arms, he'll keep you pressed against him, his hands roaming under your clothes to gently feel and play with you. his breaths hitch as he does, clearly enjoying the closeness more than anything. not being able to feel much- it's intriguing for him to see how you react to something he assumed would feel so insignificant.

•when he figured out you enjoy it- quite a bit, he'll find himself stroking your ribs more often, tracing over your collarbone.

•huffs of approval: when he feels the soft weight of your breasts in his hands, you'll hear him let out a pleased sigh, followed by a low chuckle. "you can't help making these noises when i touch you, hm?" he enjoys them, thoroughly. in fact, it's something he favors, doing whatever he can to pry the sweet sounds from your lips.

•missionary— classical. he's got your back pinned to the bed, one arm wrapped around your spine as he lay a series of open-mouthed kisses to your throat, trailing down to find one of the pebbled nipples of your breasts. the sound of your breathy moan is almost enough to make him brick up again, a low groan leaving his throat as his lips engulfed your tit with gluttony. he could worship you like this for hours- but not without his own share of enjoyment.

•light teasing: if you react to him touching you, even just a little, his grin widens. "i know you like it. you don't need to hide it." he'll lean in close, letting his breath ghost over your neck. there's nothing he enjoys more than getting a reaction out of you— and it severely agitates him when you silence yourself.

•insecure softness: as unhinged as he may seem, he can get a little soft about it, too. "i just... i need you close, okay? don't push me away." he's not one to beg, but there's something desperate in his voice when he holds you like this. loves having you against his chest, feeling your bare skin pressed against his own.

[glasvera]

@nupppuff and @mosh-mosh, I hear you loud and clear! ;)

Blooded Moon

Moon Knight x Fem!Vampire!Reader

Description: Continues in Dead Man Walking! When you're on the run, cursed to be a vampire and chased by the superheroes that want to save the city, Moon Knight finds you first. Maybe saving you isn't his best idea, but he'll be damned if he leaves you behind when you're this terrified. Being easy on the eyes also helps.

Warnings/Disclaimers: Gets a little spicy at the end but no smut (yet...?), cursing, angst, blood, blood-sucking, pretty vivid descriptions of the taste (I mean, it's a vampire reader, so what'd you expect?), hurt and comfort, starts out with you being chased

A/N: This has been cooking in my head since I got the first request for him, and honestly, I most likely will make a smutty part two. The main reason I took so long on it was because I wanted to research and be respectful of his DID, but then I ended up barely incorporating it anyway because I didn't feel it necessary and didn't wanna shoehorn it in either.

Word Count: 2.7k

You were one of the first to turn after the moon turned crimson and the sky froze in eternal night. It wasn’t something you asked for, and frankly, you were even more terrified now than you were before becoming a vampire. You weren’t looking for extra power, and even if it smells incredibly good now, the thought of drinking blood made your stomach turn.

The worst of it was how utterly alone you felt. You couldn’t go back to your apartment, returning to your job was out of the question, and you didn’t trust yourself around friends and family.

Oh, and there was the fact that being a vampire made you one of the targets of the superheroes trying to save the city.

This is how you find yourself now, scrambling over a concrete wall as your claws desperately search for purchase against the grit and gray. They're close now; you can hear the distinct rumble and whir of Iron Man's propulsion jets, and Moon Knight's steps clang against the rusted metal of a nearby fire escape. You manage to make it over the wall and into a small alley, tumbling into a pile of garbage bags that only barely soften your landing, but at least you can hide amongst the trash. You cower in the corner and desperately try to contain your breathing as staggered sobs choke in your throat. 

“I lost her!” you hear the distorted, robotic voice of Iron Man as he zips around in the sky.

“All right, you go check the other areas. I'll keep an eye on the ground here,” Moon Knight replies from what sounds like the next building over. Shit. Shit shit shit shit. But you're too weak; you've gone too long without the sustenance your body now craves, and you've expended far too much energy avoiding them until now. Your body trembles, your breaths quivering, and you cover your head with your hands as you curl up and wait for the inevitable. His steps get closer, closer, and you hear his boots crunching over piles of garbage. A soft whimper echoes in your throat.

Surprisingly, a gentle hand gloved in white rests on your shoulder. “Hey… he's gone. Are you okay?”

Wide-eyed, your vision flashes from that hand to the face of its owner, and you let out a terrified and shaky sound at the sight of Moon Knight's hooded and masked visage. His fingertips curl a bit firmer onto the tattered remnants of your sleeve before his thumb rubs soothingly against your skin.

“It's alright. I'm not going to hurt you. I can tell you're scared,” he explains as he kneels next to you, his words cold comfort against the fear wracking your feeble frame. “Tony's an idiot; he thinks we're better off getting rid of most of the vampires… but you didn’t become one by choice, did you?”

You shake your head, nose sniffling before you wipe it on the back of your wrist. Even though you can't see his face, you can see the way his body slumps slightly and hear his heavy sigh.

“Thought so. Do you have somewhere safe to go?”

You shake your head again.

Moon Knight looks from side to side, and before you know it, he's scooping you out of the trash heap. You're too frozen to do anything about it, but honestly, you had been half expecting to die from this encounter anyway. Something about his hold is comforting, though, and you're finally able to relax ever so slightly. 

“I'm gonna get an earful for this later, but I'll take you somewhere safe. I promise,” he utters before carting you off into the eternal night. 

-----

You find yourself waiting in a lobby of the Baxter Building just outside the room where Iron Man and Moon Knight argue back and forth. Occasionally, you Mr. Fantastic butt in too.

“She could be dangerous! What if she brings more of them to her?”

“Our location hasn't been a problem in the past. Or did you forget that we're holed up in one of the most prominent buildings in New York City?” you hear Moon Knight's muffled voice through the wall fighting back.

“That's not what I meant! We don't know what these new vampires are capable of. If she's able to breach our defenses and let them in--”

“She didn't ASK for this!”

You jump in your seat when you hear the booming voice of your savior. It appears to have a similar effect on the rest of the room's occupants, as you can't seem to hear any more talking now. There's a murmuring of a woman's voice--likely Invisible Woman--but it's too quiet to make out the words. You hear stomping boots approaching the door and promptly sit up in your seat. Probably best that you don't let it be known that you were eavesdropping. 

The door opens with a click, and Moon Knight's white masked visage greets you. 

“Let’s go,” he says gruffly without any greeting. “I'm tired of dealing with these big time idiots.”

Unsure of what to offer in reply, you wordlessly stand and begin following him as he winds through the hallway towards an elevator. The air is heavy between you as you try to study him for any sign of what he's thinking. Though, you don’t have to wait long before he starts talking again.

“No, Khonshu. She’s different. Scared.”

“I-I’m not--”

But he seems to ignore you in favor of the voice only he can hear. “You--through me, I might add--are supposed to protect your travelers in the night. Why doesn’t she count as one of them?”

Suddenly he cries out, clutching his head in pain as he nearly doubles over. You instinctively reach a hand out to his shoulder before he flinches away from you, his movements panicked while he frantically grabs the railings along the elevator’s wall. Scared and unsure of what to do, if anything, to help him, you pull away and press your back against the opposite wall. Your breath shakes in staggered puffs through your nostrils.

“You know it to be true! You’re the one who talked about reversing it all! She needs our help!” he calls out to the air in anguish, and you can only watch on, terrified. After several more long moments, standing across from him as he slowly gains control of his breathing, it seems as though the intrusive presence he suffered has conceded for the moment. Something tells you that wouldn’t be the last time you would see him like that.

“...Moon Knight?” you murmur hesitantly, pushing off of the wall just barely. He’s still hunched over and shaking his head.

“Don’t… Don’t worry about me. Used to it,” he replies, and that’s all you get from him when you exit the elevator. He doesn’t speak again until you’ve made it to what seems to be his own private quarters for the time being.

His head turns to you, his masked face regarding you with unknown emotion. He cocks his head to the side, nodding for you to come in with him. “You’ll be safe here. Promise.”

It’s well-equipped, and it seems even more comfortable than your old apartment to boot. It makes sense, of course, but still, it’s so nice you almost feel like you’re intruding. You glance around at the standard yet luxurious furnishings, and you take note of the various bits of discarded clothing strewn about or the crumpled papers that didn’t quite make it into any of the waste bins. This eternal night must keep everyone busy at all hours.

“This is… I can’t--” you move to protest, but suddenly he draws back his hood and removes his mask.

“Don’t sweat it,” he interrupts you, giving you the barest hint of a smile. He’s handsome, you realize, with scruffy brown hair and kind doe eyes to match. “I saw how scared you were… it… reminded me of myself once upon a time. A fate thrust upon you that you never asked for. I could see it in your eyes.”

Your lips part softly before you press them shut once more, and your gaze finds sudden interest in the wooden floorboards.

“Hey, you don’t have to talk about it. ‘M just explaining my reasons,” he adds before he wanders further into the apartment. “...Even if Khonshu doesn’t like it one bit.”

Khonshu. There’s that name again, and you swear you’ve heard it somewhere before. “Is… Is Khonshu the one who made your head hurt in the elevator?”

Moon Knight scoffs, shaking his head as he pours you both glasses of water. “Yeah. He’s not too pleased by defiance, and he gets even more pissed off when I point out his bullshit. Typical god stuff.”

Your eyes go wide. “A… a god!?” you exclaim in surprise. Though, perhaps it shouldn’t be all that surprising, you realize, when you consider the amount of heroes and villains that are gods themselves.

“Khonshu, Egyptian god of the moon… and vengeance. What, did you think I picked the name because it sounded cool?” he jokes before handing you a glass.

“I…” You stop and bring the glass to your lips, choosing to shut yourself up instead of embarrassing yourself any further. The water is cool, and it should be refreshing, but it stings like ice going down your throat and leaves you feeling even more thirsty than before. You wince and nearly drop the glass, but he sees your reaction and catches your hand in his to steady it. “Shit…” you mutter, feeling ashamed at the weakness that washes over you… and the warmth you feel creeping up your face at his touch.

“Right. Vampire. Probably more in the mood for blood, huh?” he asks before taking the unwanted cup from your grasp. You vehemently shake your head, curling your lip in disgust, and he snickers. “Like it or not, that’s the only thing that’ll work for you right now.”

“And you, what, just have some on hand?” you inquire half-heartedly. “I don’t want it, either way. I can’t… I’m scared I’ll lose control if I give in.”

He sighs, shaking his head. Clearly you had missed something. “We can worry about it later if you’re so against it. For now, you should at least clean up and get some rest. I’ll keep Stark off your ass in the meantime. Bathroom’s down the hall and to the right. Should be a clean robe in there, and I’ll ask Sue if she’s got some clothes you can borrow.”

When he dons his mask and hood once more, readying himself to leave, you reach forward and catch him by the crook of his elbow. His head turns to face you, and you suddenly feel vulnerable once again under that unreadable stare.

“I… thank you. I don’t know how to repay you, or why you went through this much effort to help me, but… I am grateful,” you tell him softly as your fingertips curl into the white fabric of his sleeve.

“Repay me by staying alive. Make it through this with your humanity intact. It’s all any of us can do,” he responds, clasping his hand over yours. A muffled chuckle sounds through his mask as he adds, “Guess you being pretty might have had something to do with it, too. Wouldn’t mind coming back to that face for a while.”

Oh, how incredibly unfair of him to say that behind the safety of his mask. Your eyes turn to saucers, your grip loosens, and your jaw hangs agape while heat blossoms across your cheeks. No words find themselves before he withdraws, giving you a little wave and heading out the door.

-----

It’s been a few weeks now, and you have learned quite a bit during your stay. Moon Knight--or rather, the system that is Moon Knight--had opened up to you over time, and you had come to know not just Marc Spector, but Steven and Jake as well. His system as a whole seemed to take a liking to you, and on the rare occasions that he actually had the time, you would often sit together on the couch and talk about everything and nothing. He seemed strangely content to listen to you ramble on about your past life, the friends and family you left behind, even ready to offer you a tissue or a shoulder to cry on should you need it. You had little need for sleep anymore, so you were happy to indulge in time with him every chance you had. Never did you feel trapped in this apartment; in fact, you found yourself waiting in anticipation for him to come back after every mission. He was starting to invade your thoughts even when he wasn’t with you. No one had ever treated you like this before, comforting and caring for you without making you feel lesser or like a burden.

Of course, that didn’t diminish the hunger pangs that gnawed more and more fervently at your entire being with every passing day. Marc had warned you that it might be even more dangerous to go without blood for this long, but you held fast in your convictions, and he at least respected that.

That is, until that hunger has you doubled over before curling into a fetal position. It felt like your stomach was devouring itself before draining the rest of your vitality, sapping all the remaining energy you had as tears prick at the corners of your eyes. That’s how Marc finds you when he returns, bloody and bruised.

He’s never smelled better.

“Y/N!” he calls out, hurrying over as fast as his slight limp will allow. He rips off his mask and drops to his knees to cradle you in his arms. Your breathing is shallow, and there’s an unmistakable hunger in your bloodshot eyes. “Hang on, I’ll… I--”

He frantically glances around the room even as he scours his own brain, trying to think of anything to alleviate your suffering. He’s warmth, he’s comfort… but the pounding in your head, the red that blurs at the edges of your vision, you can’t… you can’t…

“Ah, shit--fuck!”

You come to after a few moments with a rush, groaning and inhaling deeply as your fangs dig into soft flesh. Coppery… salty… sweet… the heady feeling of hot crimson hits your tongue and you forget everything else. Your face is buried in the crook of his neck as his head lolls to one side, his grip on you tightening as you drink his life’s essence. Nothing has ever tasted so good, so fulfilling, so powerful. You fall deeper and deeper into hedonistic bliss and crawl into his lap, straddling him as you take and take and--

No. No, this isn’t you. You can’t--

You break free of your blood trance, ripping away from him as he eyes you groggily. His blood is still hot on your lips, tacky as it dries before you instinctively collect it with a swipe of your tongue. Bracing your hands on his shoulders while your claws reflexively dig into them, the realization of what you’ve done fills you with horror and dread, and you stiffen with a gasp.

“Marc, I’m so sorry, are you okay!? I--”

Your apologies are silenced when he crashes his lips against yours. It’s messy, metallic, your lips sticking together every time he pulls away for breath. His hands slide down your sides, tickling your ribs before trailing down to your hips and gripping tightly. He tugs you against him. A soft moan hums in your throat, and his tongue takes the opportunity and delves into your mouth. Blood dilutes into saliva as he seems to seek it out, devouring you body and soul through his lips and tongue. To say your mind was a mess was an understatement: a violent whirlpool swirls with your emotions. You feel alive again, rejuvenated, powerful. But then there’s shock, arousal, a different hunger, a longing that leaves you panting.

Weeks worth of tentative talks and longing glances, coupled with the passionate hunger that accompanies your vampiric nature, have come to a head. When he draws back, chocolate eyes blackened with lust, his own blood smeared across his lips even as it trickles from the fresh wound on his neck, you knew one thing with certainty:

Moon Knight was an absolute freak. And you were so into it.

[intoanotherworld23]

All Fogged Up

Summary: Joel is a man that can get jealous very easily, and it doesn’t matter where you are Joel will show why he’s better than anyone else, and a car is the perfect place

Warnings: explicit content, mature themes, smut, unprotected sex, public sex, sex in a car, minor spanking, dominant Joel, submissive reader, praise kink, teasing

A/N: hello my lovelies! Hope everyone has been doing good! I can honestly say I’m getting more and more excited and anxious for the new season of The Last Of Us! Can’t wait to watch Pedro on replay, and read and write all kinds of fan fiction about him! Let me know what you guys think of this one I love to hear from y’all! Reblogs and comments are always appreciated and highly encouraged! Thank you everyone again so much! XOXO

Hall Of Hunks

Tag list for everything: @iam-laiya @rosie-posie08 @madzleigh01 @alwaysclassyeagle @mytbel0st @shanimallina87 @marvelstarker-mha98 @powellssugarbaby @lora21 @kmc1989

Tag list for Pedro Pascal: @pedrohoe04 @k-k0129 @livingdeadmaria @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @milly-louise @kittenlittle24 @trisaratops-mcgee @subconsciouscollapse @hooked-on-penapascal27 @red-red-rogue @fellinfromthetop @drewharrisonwriter @vickie5446 @millerfan @lover-of-books-and-tea @bbyanarchist @justajoelsreader

Joel Miller was never the type of guy to show his jealousy when it came to you. Until when he saw one of the guys from the village flirting with you all he saw was red. Wasting no time in pulling you into his truck. Ripping your clothes off so fast you could feel the fabric burning your skin.

"Were you trying to make me jealous princess?" He hissed into your ear as he gripped your cheeks in the palm of his hands. Using all the muscles in your thighs to bounce up and down on his cock. "Nobody can fuck you like I can."

"Oh my fuck." Whimpering into his shoulder biting on the flesh so much his hand came down and smacked you on your ass cheek.

"That all you got to say to me?" He taunts as he moves a hand up to grip your chin to look at his red face with sweat dripping down his forehead. He looked absolutely sexy like this, and you were the main and only reason he looked like this. It was such a turn on.

"Joel please." Crying out to him as you took notice he stopped your movements completely.

"Please what sweetheart?" Smirking as he looked up at your pathetic state, and licking his lips. Joel loved to tease you whenever he had the opportunity, and this was one that he wasn't going to let pass him by.

Joel knew he was in complete control over you, and he was becoming drunk on power. He wanted so much more of you he couldn't get enough. It was one of his favorite feelings with you.

"Please fuck me harder." Grinding your hips back and forth in an aggressive manner he couldn't help but laugh at how desperate you were becoming.

"What? What was that baby? I couldn't quite hear you over the sound of your wet cunt." His words had you squeezing around his cock just wanting nothing more than to feel him move. Driving you wild with lust at how provocative he could talk to you sometimes. "Come on, use that pretty mouth and tell me."

Running his hands up and down your body as he waited for your response. His fingertips felt like fire running across your skin, the sweat just dripping down your back. Almost like you were in a sauna just soaking in the heat.

"Fuck me harder please Joel." The air in the truck was so thick you almost couldn't breathe for a second. Your mouth was becoming so dry you could've chugged a bottle of water. The windows in the truck were fogging up nobody would be able to see the two of you engaging in adult activities.

Joel was pounding into you relentlessly and with no mercy. Nails digging into the headrest behind him scratching along the leather. His firm grip on your hips as your body aligned perfectly with his. Cries of pleasure escaping past your lips just for him and him alone.

"You fucking like this don't ya?" He demanded with a devilish glint in his eye as he mocked your pleasure. "That fucking pathetic excuse of a man  could never make you feel like this?"

All you could manage was a rapid nod and pathetic moans. A low chuckle rumbling in his throat as he took in your disheveled state knowing exactly how close you were. Well and the fact that your pussy was squeezing him like a python wrapped around its prey was a clear sign.

"Your ass looks so fucking good like this baby." He coos as he looks around you watching you bounce on top of him your cheeks jiggling with each motion only to slap your flesh. The smack is so loud and obscene you good that nobody heard it. Joel didn't seem to care cause he did it over and over again.

"Shit." Your muffled voice curses as the sensation goes all the way down to your toes. "Right there Joel."

Joel could feel you slowing down as you rest your head on his shoulder. Not wasting anymore time he clasped his hands behind your back, and bucked into you violently it made the whole car rock.

"I want to feel that creamy cunt cum around my cock." Crying out as you gripped onto Joel's body like your life depended on it. Toes curling as your whole body shook into a crumbled mess on top of him. Chest rising and feeling with each trembling breath you took. "That's my good girl. Such a good fucking girl for me."

His lips find yours with a fleeting taste of pure bliss before his sultry voice commands you to surrender to him. Leading you to make a complete mess all over him as you explode with ecstasy.

Stomach trembling with the resounding orgasm you had just experienced. It was so intense and hot you felt like you could pass out any second. Your cunt was puffy and sore from the beating that you just took. Joel couldn't have been more proud of himself right now. A huge smug look on his face as he panted heavily taking in your facial expression.

"Fuck I will never get tired of that feeling." He chuckled his hands running up and down your sides in a soothing and such gentle matter you almost forgot what he just did to you. "Only one I know who can fuck me like that in a truck."

"Shut up." You giggled as you covered your face into his chest feeling slightly embarrassed at his teasing you. His lips finding yours again in a sweeter and tender embrace. Only to be interrupted by hard knocks on the truck.

"When you guys are done fucking your brother is looking for you Joel."

[pricegouge]

Omg I have achieved enlightenment: bear!Price while reader wears period underwear... No tampons to hide the blood.......

okay this isn't quite what you asked for but it got carried away lmao

linking the fic cause i haven't written for it in roughly 2k followers whoops

cw: period sex. primal play. mentions of past cannibalism. breeding kink. dubcon kinda, but i assure you bunny is fine. unedited, sorry. MDNI

it's strange how much winter has changed for you, since being with john. when you'd moved back north you'd been looking forward to the snow and the visible changing of the seasons. but then the reality of the cold had set in before you'd even set in yourself and with the hardship came the depression, the general malaise that clings to you like mold in the dark and the damp of the season.

but then your partner had made it explicitly clear that he expected you to hibernate with him and everything about the dark months got easier.

you still miss the sun quite dearly, but not having to spend your whole day locked in an office or something meant you could at least sun bathe in the window on clear days, or bask like a little lizard in front of the army of sun lamps john had gotten you in the weeks before succumbing to his slumber. you'd told him or maybe two would suffice but you'd learned the hard way his animal instincts were hardest to suppress come late fall, his need to pad his apartment with absolutely every amenity either of you could ever dream of needing during the long winter not something he could ignore, no matter how unreasonable. which is how you'd ended up with a collection of no less than ten lamps, though you weren't really complaining come february when you'd not seen the sun properly in so long you were half convinced it was some mass hallucination and you needed the artificial glow injected directly into your veins.

they were set up over the headboard on a timer, a long power strip designed more so for griswald family christmas lights than for in-home use. but john would rather sleep through 15k lumens beamed directly at his head than wake up to find you usually spent your days int he living room so needs must.

he did that sometimes, wake up. it hadn't been something you'd expected so he'd scared the piss out of you the first time he'd lumbered into the living room and barked about getting back to bed. you rarely left his side anymore, only creeping out when absolutely necessary for food or sanitary needs.

when he let you, that was.

you can't budge him. he lays across your chest with such a heavy, dead weight, you'd be concerned about him if not for the deep snores he keeps issuing directly into your ear. at this point it's the only thing that lets you know he's not faking it, either, seeing as you've been actively trying to wake him up for the better part of half an hour.

"john," you pant, shoving at his bicep as you continue to try wriggling out from under him. the bed is too soft, keeps swallowing you deeper into its comfort like quick sand every time you try to squirm away. "john, i have to use the bathroom." your leg escapes the confines first, a false hope for freedom. he snorts when you shift too far away and his hand grips tight around your hip, pulls you with him when he rolls away.

perched half over him, you'd be thrilled with your new position and the escape it promised if not for his eyes fluttering open as you straddle his thigh, embarrassment building when you see his nose twitch instinctively.

"be right back," you promise, but his hands are even more insistent now, keep you pinned to his side with your legs hitched over his hips as he wakes a bit more, base instinct kicking in more quickly than his brain can keep up with.

perhaps that's why his jaw widens over your cheek, breath a hot pant against your skin as his fingers creep up and over your thigh, hitch it impossibly higher until he can brush his fingertips against -

"john, i have to use the rest room," you try to insist, but he growls when you go to pull away, rolling until you're pinned beneath him again.

"bleeding, honey," he grumbles, as if telling you some grave news you were unaware of.

"i know, sorry," you hedge, unsure how he'll feel about the fact the he very likely has period blood on his thighs and fingers now because you hadn't been expecting it for a few more days and had fallen asleep with no protection.

he answers that doubt for you by shoving his own fingers in his mouth, a thick groan leaking between the webs of his fingers at the taste.

oh, right. he's a freak.

"john, i -."

"sh sh sh sh," he murmurs, eyes heavy-lidded and dark when they finally focus on you properly. his hand falls to your hip again, leaves a sticky wet trail across your skin as it glides lower. "just hungry," he supplies by way of explanation, and for the first time since understanding his secret, you worry about the nature of what he means by that.

it's just that he does look like he could eat you right then, maw open and lax as his chest heaves with breath. he's overgrown and unkempt, his beard thick and scraggly. it's late enough into the season that he's lost some mass but it only lends to his voraciousness, draws some prey instinct deep within you to the surface, has you fawning under him as his fingers find your cunt again.

"not gonna hurt you, honey," he promises, but his voice is tight with need and you can't deny him when he's so indigent so you let your legs fall open around him, unflattering pair of plain cotton panties on display.

the air is cold against your pussy, the wetness of your own blood chilling against your skin. john shuffles closer on his knees and you feel the hot length of his cock slot eagerly into the crease of your thigh, his warm, broad palm cupping your cunt through your panties. you try not to pay attention to the way his hand comes away stained. he doesn't let that go to waste either, licking at it almost distractedly as he continues to pull your panties off. he struggles with his own bottoms for a moment, gives up completely when he decides they're out of the way enough, draw string straining around his thick thighs. this winter has been kind to him. or maybe you have - perfect mate, keeping him fed even when he's too lethargic to cook proper meals. he's not lost so much weight this year, his build still absurdly impressive despite the long, slow crawl of the season. he knows it, too, when he's awake and present enough, at least. takes great pride in rubbing his belly and telling you how luck he was to find you.

tonight is no such night, the very concept of the king's own evidently too much for him to tackle, already reduced to grunts and sighs, his breath hot and heavy before you'd even properly begun. last week you'd awoken in an empty bed, found him sitting on the kitchen floor while absolutely ravaging a hock of raw lamb. he'd sounded much the same at the time as he does now, heavy cock slipping between the sticky folds of your pussy.

you sit up enough that you can see over your own tummy, gasp when you see how bloody you already are, red staining his skin and clotting the thick curls at the base of his cock. when he rocks forward, his tip kisses his own belly, staining the fur there too.

"John, we need a towel, at least," you try to reason, leg swinging over his head as you attempt to roll away -

and absolutely freeze in place when john - sweet, sweet john who has never so much as raised his voice at you - snarls and uses your own momentum to pin you on your belly, looming over your back until his breath pants hot against the nape of your neck, voice a low threat against your skin when he asks where you think you're going.

there are some times the actual danger of who, and what, he is hits you like a ton of lead. the way he'd eaten a grown man had certainly been one, the desperation he succumbs to in late fall another. and yet, somehow, you'd never felt at risk in his presence before; always certain that being his mate would keep you safe.

but a bear would fight a prospective mate when challenged.

your palm settles on his thigh before you can really think it through, a soothing touch to counteract the shakiness of your voice as you soothe, "nowhere, baby. i'm right here, hm? right here."

john doesn't even huff in acknowledgement, breath still puffing agitatedly as he begins to nose at the side of your throat. you bare it instinctively, let him drink his fill of your scent, parse through it so he can find his own among the notes - his bed, his home, his mate.

he's still eerily silent when he settles his weight over top of you , cock still hard and sticky with blood when it slots between your cheeks.

"John -?" you start, unsure really what you plan to say. stutter out anyway when he growls in warning, lets his teeth scrape over the knob of your atlas vertebrae. his voice is tinged with something dark and inhuman when he pulls away, just enough you can still feel the scrape of his mustache when he speaks.

"just be good for me, rabbit."

you can do little else, pulse hare-footed and nerves so overloaded they can't decide which action to execute first. john does not kiss his way down your spine as he's done so many times before, instead dragging his teeth heavily down your nape, the thick skin there catching and tugging until he hits the collar of his own oversized shirt. he groans, perhaps in approval, the odd mix of yours and his sweat caught between the fibers of cotton. but it seems you're not the only good thing he wants to ruin today, his hands coming up to tear it free from you, one long rip that would hide your surprised gasp if he wasn't so carefully attuned to your weakness, falling back over you with a jumbled mix of predatory snarls and deceptively human coos. "ain't gonna hurt you," he promises, and you risk eye contact enough to peek over your shoulder at him, get your face shoved back into the pillow by a whiskery muzzle pressed much-too hard against your cheek for you effort.

"and what about your bear?" you chirp, wiggling beneath him when he begins to grind his cock against you.

john chuckles, or would, maybe, if he had a better concept of human reactions at the moment. "won't hurt you, either," he asserts, perhaps trying to convince himself because he can't seem to help stretching his maw over the hinge of your jaw even as he says it, wet tongue working over your pulse point when he continues. "he's just gotta eat, 's'all."

he wolfs down your words when you reply too, thumb pressed against the fluttering vein in your throat as he licks your lips. "he gonna eat me?"

john doesn't answer at first, just growls when he reaches down to tilt your hips up, pulls your cheeks apart so he can bury himself between them better. "if you ask nicely."

you envy the lamb.

john's got your hips folded over his own arm, your knees braced wide enough he's wedged his own between your ankles. your arms hold most of your weight, shoulders aching because you can't quite fall forward at this angle, john's thick forearm digging painfully into your tender, crampy belly when you do. at least he hadn't toyed with the lamb like this, didn't drink down its rich blood with wet slurps and satisfied groans. at least the lamb didn't have to bite back soft sighs, squeals of surprise when this beast nipped at it, overeager and toothy.

but it's hard to draw the line at bite marks on your ass when he's so sweet after, tongue laving at the wound as he whines along with you, kisses it better with his lips sealed over your own, pussy fluttering around his hot tongue.

his free hand is just as bad, holding your cheek spread wide for himself with twitching fingers, squeezing divots into your soft flesh which he distracts himself with, pulling away to brush whiskery kisses over them and chuckle darkly when you flinch away, expecting teeth.

you want to tell him to stop playing with his food, are mildly afraid to remind him of the sentiment. "john," you whine instead and he shoves at your hips so hard you flop forward onto the mattress, feel him shuffling up behind you until he straddles your hips.

"said be good, bunny," he growls and his thumbs hurt when he hooks them on either side of your ass, spreads you wide for his inspection. you can feel his cock head bobbing against your cunt, clench around nothing reflexively. he groans when it forces a heavy clot out, reaching down to guide his tip after it, a blood hound nosing around a burrow.

"but john, i -."

he shuts you up with his dick notched up against your entrance, broad head bullying its way past your lips before you're properly ready, aided only by the thick glide of blood and slick.

"rabbits get bred, bunny," he grits, something about the cadence rubbing you wrong, as if he's explaining something very basic to you. "they get bred by their mates. are you gonna be a good little bunny for your mate?"

you'd ignore the cajoling if you could and just wriggle back onto his cock properly. but his grip won't let you, fingers bruising tight upon your hips when you try. "yes, joh - ouch!" you shriek, hand reaching wildly behind you to catch his wrist before he can spank you again. but he's not winding back for another, his big mit kneading at the tender flesh instead. you peer over your shoulder to pout at him again, get distracted by the wild look in his eye and the blood matted in his beard, painted across his cheek. he looks untamed, more bear than man. you remember the crunch of bone between his jaws, the way his other form had stared back you, blood up from his battle, undecided if he wanted to kill you or put a baby in you.

you decide for him, using your grip on his forearm to pull him back up over yourself properly, jaw tilted to lick the blood from his cheek as you beg your mate to breed you.

"good rabbit."

[heliosunny]

Yandere!Zayne x Reader x Yandere!Caleb

Arts cre to artist

Summary: In a post-apocalyptic world overrun by monstrous creatures known as Wanderers, you are one of the last remaining scientists, dedicating your life to preserving humanity. Using cutting-edge biotechnology, you create Caleb and Zayne—two highly advanced humanoid beings designed to assist you in fighting the Wanderer threat. You implant them with memories of being your childhood friends to ensure they feel loyalty, trust, and camaraderie toward you. Caleb is the reliable and determined pilot, wielding gravity-based powers, while Zayne is the calm and resourceful medic, capable of manipulating ice.

The morning sun streamed through the reinforced windows of your lab as the smell of something savory wafted in, pulling you out of your deep focus. You looked up from the maze of wires and circuits sprawled across your workstation just in time to see Caleb entering, balancing a steaming plate in one hand. His dark hair was slightly damp, probably from his morning workout, and his signature confident grin was firmly in place.

“You didn’t eat again, did you?” he said, setting the plate down in front of you.

You blinked at the food—a plate of perfectly scrambled eggs, toast, and even a small bowl of fresh-cut fruit. “Wait… when did you have time to make this?”

“Right after fixing that mess of a ventilation system in the south wing” he replied, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

You gave him a wry smile. “You know, you’re starting to sound more like a housekeeper than a pilot.”

“And you’re starting to sound like someone who’s about to faint from hunger” Caleb shot back, gesturing toward the food. “Now eat before I make it a command.”

Reluctantly, you put down your tools and took a bite. It was annoyingly good. You mumbled between mouthfuls, “You’re too good at this. What kind of pilot cooks this well?”

“The kind that has to make up for the genius who forgets to eat.” he said, a playful glint in his eyes.

Before you could retort, Zayne walked in, clipboard in hand, his icy-blue eyes immediately narrowing at the sight of Caleb and his cooking.

“What’s this?” Zayne asked, gesturing to the plate. “Breakfast in bed? How domestic of you, Caleb.”

“Jealous, Doc?” Caleb quipped without missing a beat.

Zayne’s gaze shifted to you. “You really let him boss you around like this?”

“I didn’t let him,” you said, gesturing to the food with your fork. “But I’m not complaining. He’s saving me time.”

Zayne sighed, placing his clipboard on the counter. “You know, if you actually managed your schedule better, you wouldn’t need someone to babysit you.”

Caleb rolled his eyes. “And if you lightened up, maybe people wouldn’t freeze the second you walk into a room.”

“Caleb. Zayne.” You set your fork down and gave them both a pointed look. “Can we not do this every time we’re in the same room?”

Caleb smirked but didn’t push further, and Zayne gave a small huff before grabbing a tablet to check mission reports. Despite their constant bickering, there was an undeniable ease to their presence, like two opposing forces that somehow balanced each other out.

You looked between them, a small smile tugging at your lips. No matter how chaotic they were, they were your family—the people you could always count on, even in the darkest of times. ----- The mission had gone horribly wrong. Wanderers ambushed you in the dead of night, forcing Caleb and Zayne into combat. Caleb slammed one creature into the ground with a gravitational pulse, his jaw tight as he yelled “Get behind me!”

Zayne’s breath misted in the air as frost spread from his fingertips, freezing a group of Wanderers in place. “How about you stop barking orders and actually focus on not dying?” he snapped, his voice sharper than usual.

“I am focusing!” Caleb retorted, his gravitational barrier flickering as the strain mounted.

Realizing they couldn’t hold out much longer, you made a split-second decision. Pulling out a remote device, you activated the override. Both Caleb and Zayne froze mid-action, their bodies locking up as their systems shut down.

“I’m sorry” you whispered, dragging them to safety before finishing off the remaining Wanderers yourself.

When they woke up in your lab hours later, the tension was palpable. Caleb sat up first, rubbing his temples. “What… happened? Why couldn’t I move?”

“You shut us down” Zayne said flatly, his tone icy. His sharp gaze pinned you in place. “That override… what else have you been hiding from us?”

You sighed, turning away from their accusing stares. “I had no choice. You both would have died.”

Caleb stood, his expression unreadable. “We’re not just tools, are we? We’re…” His voice faltered, and his hand clenched into a fist. “What are we?”

Zayne crossed his arms, his voice low. “Answer him.”

Taking a deep breath, you faced them. “You’re not tools. You’re not experiments. You’re my creations. I built you to help me save humanity. And I gave you memories—false ones... because I didn’t want you to feel like you were nothing more than machines.”

The silence was deafening. Caleb stared at you, a storm brewing in his eyes. “So… we’re not even human?”

“No.” you admitted softly. “But that doesn’t change what you mean to me. You’re more than just creations. You’re my family.”

Zayne’s expression softened slightly, though his tone remained cold. “Family? Is that why you lied to us?”

“I lied to protect you.” you said, your voice firm. “I didn’t want you to feel like you were just tools. You’re not. You’re everything to me.”

In the days that followed, Caleb and Zayne’s behavior shifted. Caleb became more protective, shadowing you during missions and watching you with a guarded intensity. Zayne, meanwhile, grew more reserved, throwing himself into his work but keeping a careful eye on you.

One evening, as you worked late in the lab, Caleb sat nearby, idly fiddling with a gadget. “You should let me help you more.” he said suddenly.

“You already help plenty.” you replied without looking up.

“Not enough.” he muttered. “If something happened to you…”

You looked up, surprised at the vulnerability in his voice. “Caleb, nothing’s going to happen to me. I have you and Zayne, remember?”

He nodded but didn’t look convinced. “Yeah. You have us.”

Later that night, Zayne entered the lab, finding you asleep at your desk. Shaking his head, he draped a blanket over your shoulders and adjusted the room’s temperature to keep you comfortable. “She pushes herself too hard” he murmured, his icy tone melting for just a moment.

“Don’t we all?” Caleb’s voice came from the doorway.

Zayne glanced at him but didn’t respond. Instead, he sighed. “As much as I hate to admit it… she needs both of us.”

Caleb crossed his arms, his jaw tight. “Yeah. She does.”

The city was under siege, and the Wanderer threat was greater than ever. Caleb, Zayne, and you stood side by side, ready to face the horde.

“Stay close to me” Caleb said, his gravitational field already forming.

Zayne rolled his eyes but smirked. “Protect her all you want, but don’t get in my way.”

You placed a hand on both their shoulders, your voice steady. “No fighting. Not now. We do this together.”

For the first time, they exchanged a glance of mutual understanding.

As the battle raged, the three of you worked in perfect sync. Caleb’s gravity crushed waves of Wanderers, while Zayne froze others in their tracks. You enhanced their powers, amplifying Caleb’s field to cover the entire city and super charging Zayne’s ice to create massive barriers.

When the last Wanderer fell, the three of you stood together, battered but victorious. Caleb offered you a tired smile. “We make a good team, don’t we?”

Zayne chuckled, his breath misting in the cold air. “For once, I agree with him.”

You smiled, tears in your eyes. “We always have.”

As the world began to heal, so did your bond with Caleb and Zayne. They accepted their origins and found solace in their roles—not as tools, but as your partners and family. Though their playful rivalry remained, it was no longer tinged with bitterness.

----- Life had been peaceful in the months following the defeat of the Wanderers. The lab had transformed into a hub of innovation, with Caleb and Zayne lending their unique talents to assist you in rebuilding technology for humanity. Despite the occasional bickering between them, a quiet harmony had settled over the three of you.

That peace, however, was shattered the day an unexpected visitor appeared at your doorstep.

You were calibrating a new piece of equipment when the lab’s security system chimed, signaling an incoming guest. Caleb, who had been fixing a damaged drone nearby, frowned and stood immediately.

“Expecting someone?” he asked, tension creeping into his voice.

“No” you said, confused, wiping your hands on a cloth as you walked to the door.

The man standing outside was someone you hadn’t seen in years. Dr. Marcus Vell, a former colleague from your days as a junior scientist. His slicked-back gray hair and sharp suit gave him an air of authority, but there was something unsettling in his smile.

“Y/N!” he said warmly, stepping forward as you opened the door. “It’s been too long.”

“Marcus?” you said, startled. “What are you doing here?”

“I heard about your success” he said, glancing around the lab with thinly veiled interest. “I must say, I always knew you’d surpass the rest of us. Your creations…” His eyes flicked to Caleb and Zayne, lingering a little too long. “…are remarkable.”

Zayne, standing in the corner, crossed his arms, his icy gaze fixed on Marcus. Caleb moved closer to your side, his posture protective.

“Thanks, but I’m pretty busy.” you said, trying to keep the interaction short.

Marcus chuckled, unbothered by the cold reception. “Of course. I won’t take much of your time. I’m here with an offer. Humanity needs minds like yours—truly gifted ones. Come work with me. Together, we could rebuild this world far more efficiently.”

You hesitated, sensing the hidden implications in his words. “I appreciate the offer, but I’m happy where I am.”

His smile faltered slightly, and a flicker of something darker crossed his face. “Don’t be so hasty. You’ve barely heard what I have to offer.”

Caleb stepped forward, his expression hard. “She already said no. You heard her.”

Marcus glanced at him, his smile sharpening. “Ah, the pilot. A fine creation. But let’s not forget who’s really in charge here.”

Before Caleb could respond, you held up a hand. “I think it’s time for you to leave, Marcus.”

Marcus straightened his suit, his eyes lingering on you. “Very well. But consider this—talent like yours shouldn’t be wasted in obscurity. I’ll be in touch.”

As he walked out, Zayne’s voice cut through the silence. “I don’t trust him.”

“Neither do I” Caleb muttered.

You sighed, brushing it off. “It’s fine. He’s just an old colleague trying to stir up trouble. Forget about him.”

But Caleb and Zayne exchanged a look—one that spoke volumes.

Later that night, while you were asleep, Caleb and Zayne made their move.

“He’s not going to stop” Caleb said, his voice low as he paced the dimly lit lab.

Zayne, seated at a console, typed rapidly, pulling up information on Marcus. “Agreed. He’s been digging into her work for months. I found encrypted correspondence with other labs—he’s trying to recruit people to take her away.”

Caleb clenched his fists. “Then we stop him. Quietly.”

Zayne looked up, meeting Caleb’s gaze. “For once, we’re on the same page.”

Two days later, Marcus Vell vanished.

You didn’t notice at first, too absorbed in your work to realize he hadn’t “followed up” as he promised. When you eventually thought of him again, Zayne was the one to casually dismiss your concerns.

“Marcus?” he said, adjusting his glasses. “I heard he left the region. Something about funding issues.”

“Really?” you asked, frowning. “That doesn’t sound like him.”

Caleb chimed in, leaning against the counter. “People like him are all talk. He probably realized you weren’t interested and gave up.”

You nodded slowly, still feeling a vague unease. “I guess. Well, good riddance.”

Caleb and Zayne shared a brief glance behind your back, the unspoken agreement between them crystal clear. Marcus was no longer a threat.

A week later, Caleb handed you a plate of food while Zayne adjusted the cooling system for your new project.

“Thanks” you said with a smile, taking the plate. “You two have been unusually cooperative lately. Should I be worried?”

“Cooperative?” Caleb grinned. “We’re just that good.”

Zayne gave a small shrug, his lips curving into a rare smile. “Sometimes, we have the same priorities.”

You tilted your head, sensing an undertone you couldn’t quite place. But whatever it was, you trusted them. After all, they’d proven time and again that they would do anything to protect you—even if you didn’t always know the lengths they’d go to.

As you turned back to your work, Caleb and Zayne exchanged a small, knowing smirk. They didn’t need your gratitude. Keeping you safe was reward enough.

----- Bonus: The Great Dinner Standoff It had been a long day of work, and you were looking forward to a relaxing dinner. Caleb had volunteered to cook, which usually meant something delicious but overly ambitious. When you entered the dining area, the smell of roasted vegetables filled the air.

Caleb turned from the stove, flashing you a proud grin. “Dinner’s ready. I made roasted carrots with honey glaze, some chicken, and mashed potatoes. Pretty fancy, huh?”

Your mouth watered at the sight of the golden carrots on the table. “It smells amazing. Thanks, Caleb!”

Zayne appeared in the doorway, pausing mid-step as his eyes landed on the carrots. His face immediately darkened. “Carrots? Really?”

Caleb smirked, clearly enjoying Zayne’s reaction. “What’s wrong, Doc? Too sophisticated for your picky palate?”

Zayne ignored him, stepping into the room with a tray of his own. “I made something, too.”

You blinked in surprise. “Wait, you cooked?”

Zayne set the tray on the table, revealing a dish of cilantro-lime rice. “I thought I’d contribute.”

The moment Caleb saw the cilantro, his expression soured. “Cilantro? Seriously?”

Zayne’s lips twitched into a subtle smirk. “Oh, I know. Just thought it would balance out your… overly sweet carrots.”

Caleb glared at him. “You’re sabotaging dinner.”

“Sabotaging?” Zayne asked innocently, taking a seat. “I’m expanding the flavor profile.”

You groaned, sitting down between them. “Can we have one meal without a fight?”

Caleb pointed his fork at Zayne. “Tell him that. He’s the one ruining perfectly good food.”

Zayne calmly spooned some cilantro rice onto his plate. “I could say the same about your poor excuse for a vegetable.”

You sighed, grabbing a little of both dishes and taking a bite. The carrots were sweet and perfectly cooked, and the cilantro rice had a refreshing zest. “Honestly? They’re both great. You two should just appreciate each other’s cooking.”

Caleb muttered something under his breath but started eating, avoiding the rice entirely. Zayne, for his part, made a show of pushing the carrots to the edge of his plate.

By the end of the meal, you couldn’t help but smile. Despite their endless bickering, you knew they both cared in their own strange ways.

[solxamber]

I TAJE IT BACK I TAKE IT BAVK😭

Malleus,Romantic Bleeding love-Leona Lewis

(this was written pre book 7-13)

"Bleeding Love" || Malleus Draconia

𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭

𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠: Bleeding Love by Leona Lewis

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 820

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: Realistisation of feelings, Angst with a happy ending

Malleus does not remember the first time he realized he was meant to be alone. Perhaps it was in childhood, when the castle halls echoed with his own footsteps but never another’s. Perhaps it was in the way the guards stiffened at his approach, in the whispers that trailed after him like shadows, in the way people turned away when his eyes met theirs.

It was simply a truth. A fact as unchangeable as the stars in the sky.

He has always resented it. A prince of his standing, of his power—what need does he have for companionship? They ask what need does he have for love?

And yet—

Somehow, despite all reason, despite all warnings, you are here.

And you are changing everything.

You are warmth in the cold, light where there was once only shadow. You do not flinch at his presence, do not cast your eyes downward in deference or fear. You speak his name with ease, as if it is not a title but a thing of affection, of familiarity. You meet him with laughter, with teasing, with kindness that he does not know how to accept but finds himself yearning for nonetheless.

It is intoxicating. It is dangerous.

And Malleus is afraid.

Because he has lived too long, seen too much. He knows how the world works. Love is fleeting. Love is fragile. And to love you would be to one day lose you. To feel the weight of centuries while you age and fade, to watch as time steals you away from him while he remains untouched.

He has lived his life untouched by time, but you—

You remind him what it is to feel it.

And worse than that, worse than all the fear and uncertainty, is the knowledge that he cannot stop himself.

Because when you smile at him, when your hand brushes against his, when you stand beside him without hesitation, he thinks—

What if?

What if he could hold onto this? What if he could have this warmth, just for a little while? What if, despite all the warnings, despite all the risks—

He lets himself love?

But Malleus knows better than anyone that fairytales do not always end in happily ever afters.

Malleus had always thought himself above the fragility of mortal attachments.

Love was fleeting, something to be mourned and forgotten with time. It was the kind of pain that came from being too attached to something that was never meant to last. He had seen it before—through the ages, through history. He had promised himself he would never fall prey to it.

And yet—

You are lying before him, your body cold, your breathing shallow.

And for the first time in his endless existence, Malleus Draconia feels truly, utterly powerless.

The world around him is noise and chaos, voices shouting, bodies moving, but all of it fades into nothing. All he can hear is the ragged sound of your breath, all he can see is the blood staining your clothes, seeping through trembling fingers.

His hands are shaking as they press against you, as if he can hold you together through sheer force of will. Magic crackles at his fingertips, too wild, too unstable—he cannot think, cannot control it, cannot do anything except try to keep you here.

Because if you go, he—

No.

No, he will not allow it.

"You are not leaving me." His voice is low, trembling, a thread of desperation beneath the usual authority. His grip tightens, magic surging in frantic waves, golden light pooling over your wounds. "You do not have permission to leave me."

You stir, barely, eyes fluttering open just enough to see him. Your lips part, but no words come—just the ghost of a smile, weak, as if to say I’m still here.

It is not enough.

It will never be enough.

Because Malleus suddenly realizes—he needs you.

It had crept up on him, slow and insidious, wrapping around his heart before he could recognize its weight. Love. He had never wanted it, never thought he needed it, and now it is ripping him apart.

His heart pounds violently in his chest, a wild, painful rhythm, echoing the words he cannot say—stay, stay, stay.

He had thought himself invincible. He had thought himself untouchable.

But you—

You cut him open, and now he is bleeding love.

He bows his head, pressing his forehead against yours, his breath shuddering. His magic is strong—stronger than anything else in this world—but what is the point of all his power if he cannot protect the one thing that matters?

"Stay with me." His voice is barely above a whisper now, raw and aching. "I will do anything. Just… stay."

You squeeze his hand, the faintest pressure, and he chokes out something between a laugh and a sob.

And when your eyes finally clear, when your lips move to whisper his name, Malleus knows—

He will never let you go.

Masterlist ; Valentine's Event

[yanderenightmare]

Gojo Satoru

TW: implied noncon, desperate starved reader, God!Gojo

gn reader

based on this by @hawnks

He's worshipped, but worship alone doesn’t make those who pray by his shrine his belongings.

Even pets run away when they don't like the food.

He could take lives, which suppose some of his fellow gods might view as ownership, but right when he ran out of places to wash the blood off his hands, he’d sooner found it to be an empty pastime bearing no merit.

After all, taking lives doesn't mean they belong to you—it just means they’re dead. 

He'd come to realize that the power to take is a far cry from the prospect of actually owning something—something he can truly call his. He could level a forest and everything in it, crush mountains to deserts, drink the entire ocean dry—but it wouldn’t make any of it his.

It leaves him feeling stingy when yet another measly human comes before him—on your knees with your forehead bowed in the dirt, skinny hands shaking while laid flat out before you, cracked lips crying his name.

With his chin propped in his palm, he yawns while listening to you, and with jaded eyes, he nearly dismisses you altogether. But there’d been a question he’d been mulling over lately—one that had found its way to the tip of his tongue.

“What do I get in return?”

You’re only asking for very little—one of the humbler humans who still bother praying to him. You might see it as greedy of him to ask you for something in return—a poor soul with nothing but your sorry name. But what you don’t understand is that you and he are the exact same.

Dirt poor.

In many ways, he has it a lot worse. You could die. He could not. Infinity would pan on forever and drag him with it as if with a ball and chain—and he’d remain destitute and alone for the entirety of it all.

Which is why…

“You can have me, I guess…”

It sounded so sweet—like a vow.

You say it with such defeat, as though you’ve already accepted his rejection—as though you’re about to offer yourself to the forest next—as though you're worth nothing more than returning to soil again. 

You don’t notice the new light in his eyes that threatens to swallow you whole, nor do you hear the growl in his gut like a beast awoken from a deep slumber—starved to death if he only could. His tongue swells with sweetness, it nearly runs over and spills down his chin.

Your offer hangs still in the air, poised and waiting for him to grab it, brighter than a star. It nearly frightens him—how much he wants it—how desperately he yearns for it. His fingertips buzz with thrill as he reaches out. He’s never held something like it before—soft and warm and flickering with something fleeting and precious. It almost feels wrong for him to hold it in his blood-soaked hands. Eyes all but blacked out as he looks down at it.

“Mine, you say?” 

You feel it, too, but it’s not close to the same sense of elevation—how he reaches into your chest and scribbles his name on your soul. Each letter is heavier than the last and leaves you curling in on yourself in agony, screaming before you fall silent.

Panting once you look up, you clutch your chest, only to see his sneer gone, replaced by something worse—something haunting.

The regret is palpable. You pick yourself up and take to running away—but by then, it’s too late. You don’t make it more than two steps before something has you tugged right back—this time into his embrace.

“I accept your generous sacrifice, little human.”

His words weigh awfully heavy while you shudder in his lap. His skin is like marble—shimmery and cold as his hands wrap around you, holding you tightly as he puts his lips to your neck.

"I'll take precious care of you..."

You feared he’d bite, but the kisses that commence feel no less like a collar being fastened snug around your throat. As well as his promise—like being sentenced to spend eternity right there, hand-fed under that awful smile on his face.

♡ GOJO SATORU masterlist ♡ JUJUTSU KAISEN masterlist

[rosenclaws]

Don't hide from me || Logan Howlett x Reader

summary: You get hurt on a mission and hide it from Logan. Safe to say he is not happy with you.

warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, talk of violence, blood, and injury

wc: 3k

a/n: Hi guys, tw for pet death but we had to put my childhood dog to sleep today. He was 16 and he had a good life but it's rough. Writing has always helped me so I just sat down and wrote today. I'm always a sucker for this kind of trope and I also have trouble asking for help so this was born. Idk if I like the ending but I always struggle with those so oopsie

This was not how you imagined your first mission to go. You had assumed it would be easy, boring in fact. It was supposed to be boring. Maybe a little fighting here or there but nothing serious.

Well you were sorely mistaken. Your hand puts pressure on your side as you lean against a tree. The rough bark digging into the cuts on your suit. You wince as you look down to see a massive gash right in your stomach.

"Fuck." Your breath is labored as you slowly slide down the tree. You don't heal like some of the other mutants can. In fact your powers were relatively tame compared to others but you were still an asset to the team.

You had been training for months and months. Learning to control your sparks into blasts of energy and manipulate the electricity around you. You had never been more excited to receive your suit. Handed to you by Logan himself after your final training day.

The proud look on his face made your whole body fill with butterflies. Logan had been your biggest help. He was a very distracting teacher though due to the fact that he's your boyfriend too but if anything that made him push you harder.

"Come on sweetheart, you need to do better than that." He says with a smirk. He's barely broken a sweat while you've been giving it a hundred and ten percent.

"Fuck off." You huff as you lay down on the mat. Body exhausted from the hours of training.

"You're getting better. Just need to keep working." He steps over you, bending down and holding out his hand.

"One more time and we're done." He helps you up and kisses your forehead. Walking back to his spot he raises his arms and braces himself.

"Hit me." Taking a deep breath you channel all your power to your fingertips. Feeling the jolts of power start to form. With all your strength you fire right at Logan. To your surprise it hits him square in the chest and sends him flying into the wall.

"Logan!" You run over to him but he's already up by the time you make it. A big smile on his face as he wraps his arms around you. A burst of pride in your chest as he kisses you sweetly.

"I knew you could do it."

It made it even sweeter when you were finally deemed ready to join them. You were ready. You wanted to prove to all of them that you could do it but most of all you wanted to show Logan.

Show him that all his extra training helped and that you were strong and you could do this on your own. He had always shown a slight worry about you joining the team. He says it's because he's worried and protective but a small part of your brain tells you it's because he thinks you can't do it. That you're not ready.

So this. Well it almost felt embarrassing. The mission was nothing new to the rest of the team but to you it was overwhelming. Fighting with everything you had and sometimes it felt like it wasn’t enough. You took out soldier after soldier but they kept coming. But you were fine. You never asked for backup. Convincing yourself that you could do this. Thinking back to all your long days in the simulation and wiping away any doubt that lingered in your head.

Logan had left your side early on much to his reluctance so you were on your own. You were too focused on the guy in front of you that you didn't notice the man sneaking behind you. You cried out in pain as he dug his knife into your side.

Without thinking you blast him far away, taking out the guy in front of you too. Pure adrenaline courses through you as you run to safety. Now you're here, the sounds of fighting still rage on behind you. Blood is seeping onto your hand at a faster rate than normal.

"Okay. Okay. Okay okay." Sorry Professor but you'll fix your suit later. Your sleeve was already torn so you tear the rest as much of it as you can off. Turning it into one long strip of fabric. You unzip the top of your suit to get to the wound. They briefly taught you how to patch up injuries more akin to scratches not stab wounds. You tie the fabric tightly around your waist. You groan as the pressure shoots a sharp pain through your body. The sounds of fighting were dying down.

You know you should tell someone but the last thing you wanted was to be taken off the team after your first mission. You wanted to make them proud. You loved being on the team.

The injury isn't that bad, if you could just make it back to the mansion you would be fine. Patch it up with the right material and then sleep it off. Thank god you and Logan didn't share a room. Fuck. Logan. He was going to kill you but what he didn't know won't hurt him.

Just this once.

Zipping up your suit again you take a few deep breaths to calm yourself. Just make it back to the mansion. You walk as best you can back to the jet. Your limping, favoring your non injured side and it's incredibly obvious. Still you put a smile on your face. The team clocks your ripped sleeve immediately. Logan scowls as you get closer making you shiver. Or maybe that was from the blood loss.

"So how was that for your first mission?" Scott beams as he walks over to you. He slaps his hand onto your shoulder and you wince.

"Good. Is it always like this?" He notices something's off but doesn't say anything. Instead he keeps his hand on your shoulder as he guides you back to the jet.

"You alright Sparks? What happened to your suit." He asks when you get closer.

"Long story, some guy ripped it and when I ran to the forest it got caught and just. tore away." You lie right through your teeth.

"Don't worry we'll fix it when we get back." Ororo smiles and you thank god they bought it. Well almost everyone bought it.

As you head up the ramp you feel a hand on your side. Your whole body tenses as pain shoots through your side. You bite your lip hard to keep yourself from screaming. You recognize the hand as Logan's as his wide chest bumps against your back.

"You alright sweetheart?" He asks, a skeptical look on his face as you wave his hand off.

"Yeah, just really tired." You sigh as you sit in a chair.

Some relief spreads through your body as you subtly press the arm of the chair into your side. Putting more pressure as you feel the blood soak through your makeshift bandage. He narrows his eyes as he inspects you like an animal. Your heart picks up as he places both hands on either arm rest, caging you in as he leans close.

"What are you doing?" You shrink under his intense look. He sniffs and a low growl emits from his throat.

"I smell blood. Somethings wrong." Fuck. He's caught you. The rest of the team starts to file back in.

"Yeah there's blood on everyone's suit, there's blood on you." You mumble as an excuse.

"Down boy, we're taking off so take a seat." Scott says. Logan stays put for just a moment longer before he finally backs off, flipping Scott the middle claw as he takes the seat behind you.

You can feel his eyes burning in the back of your head the whole flight home. You were sweating, body on fire as you focused on your breathing. The pain was getting worse and you wanted to cry for help. But you were determined to prove yourself here.

Your brain wasn't exactly working right either. Too focused on not throwing up to think logically. Finally the jet lands. You're so close. Just a little longer. Logan moves to go right back to your side but gets pulled away. You can vaguely hear him telling someone to fuck off as you stumble out of the jet.

You feel like a zombie as you walk back to your room. Stomach growing sick as you struggle to stay awake. Sweat pours down your face, body screaming for help as you barely make it to your room. Your vision goes in and out. The darkness calling to you as you swing open your door. That sounds nice, you can just close your eyes and sleep. Yeah. Then you can fix yourself up. Your vision goes black. The last thing you remember is someone yelling your name.

-

The first thing you notice when you come back to consciousness is how much your body hurts. The second thing was the hand that was holding yours tightly. Clearly you weren't in your room anymore. This bed is too uncomfortable and it smells too much like antiseptic.

The lab. You were in a hospital bed in the lab which means that someone found you which can only mean that Logan knew and you were in so much trouble. Maybe if you keep your eyes closed you can just go back to sleep. The urge to avoid the consequences of your actions was strong but you knew you couldn't. You lied and now you have to deal with it.

Surprisingly it's dim when you open your eyes. The ugly florescent lighting was off in favor of a few candles and a soft lamp. The hand holding yours twitched, holding you tighter. Looking to your side you see Logan laying his head on the bed. Guilt seeps into your soul when you see him there.

"Glad to see you awake." A soft voice says from the door.

"Jean." You sheepishly say. She flicks on the lights and you squint your eyes at the bright light.

"You're lucky that Logan found you when he did." Her voice is gentle but there's anger hidden behind it.

"I'm sorry. I thought." You sigh and look at Logan who was still sleeping.

"I thought I could handle it. I just wanted to be one of you guys." "You already were one of us, but we're just glad you're okay." She checks your vitals once more in silence.

"Am I in trouble?" You ask nervously.

"Yes." Another voice makes your heart jump, the monitor picking it up with a massive spike.

"Logan honey I-" He holds up his hand and silently asks Jean to leave. She gives you one last smile before leaving the two of you alone.

"Don't. Don't you dare." You shrink into the bed as speaks.

"What the hell were you thinking?"

"I-"

"Hiding a fucking stab wound? For what? Exactly what did you think would happen here!" He raises his voice and you look down in shame.

"You are benched. Permanently." He growls, standing up and storming towards the door.

"What! Logan you can't do that."

"Fuck yes I can. Do you understand how stupid it was for you to hide an injury like that? How irresponsible you were!"

"I thought I could handle it!" The machines near you started to go haywire as you yelled back.

"I thought you were dead!" You go silent as the anger fades, he clenches his fists tightly.

"I smelled the blood and I knew something was wrong. The whole time I knew it. There was a trail of blood to your room and I ran and ran and when I finally got there." He pauses. Not even wanting to say the next thought.

"I'm sorry." You whisper.

You reach out for him but he just stares at you. A painful expression on his face as his eyes zero in on the prominent scar on your side. He shakes his head, turning away and walking out the door.

"Logan please." You beg for him to come back but he doesn't.

The lab is silent and lonely. Jean comes back to check on you, comforting you as you silently cry. All you want is for Logan to come back but he never did.

At least not while you were awake. In the mornings there were traces of Logan. His jacket is left on your bed the one you always steal to cuddle with. Snacks are waiting by your table. Little things to show you had still been there. Just not when you were awake.

It was only a couple days later that you were finally discharged. The Professor had called you to his office, letting you know that you were benched until you had fully recovered and you nodded in understanding. You can feel the stares of the rest of the mansion on you as you walk back to your room.

You've apologized over and over to the team and they welcomed you back with open arms. Begging you to never scare them like that again. Your mind wanders and your feet seem to think on their own as you find yourself in front of Logan's door.

All you want is for him to hold you and to tell you it's okay. Before you can knock on the door it swings open. There he stands in all his glory. He stares at you for a moment before pulling you into a hug. It takes you by surprise but you hug him back tighter. You wince as he pushes a little too hard on your side and he lets go instantly. You don't want to let go, he's been gone for days and you need him.

"I'm here to apologize." You say.

"I'm sorry for not saying anything. I was afraid that you would think I'm weak." It hurts to admit but he needs to know the truth. Asking for help has never been your strong suit.

"That I wasn't strong enough and all I wanted was to prove to you that I could do it. I wanted you to be proud of me." You wait for any response but all he does is look at you. Silently he guides you to his bed. Wrapping a blanket around your shoulders that smells like him.

"When I found you, you weren't moving. There was so much blood. You were barely breathing." He shivers at the memory.

He doesn't think he'll ever get the smell of your blood and the sight of you sprawled out on the ground out of his mind. It's burned there. Every time he closes his eyes he sees it. He ran through the mansion. Begging for help with you in his arms.

They kicked him out once he brought you to the lab. He was close to breaking down the damn doors. He had super strength and a raging healing factor but he'd never felt so powerless before. When they finally let him back in he rushed to the bed. He never left your side. Watching and waiting for you to wake up. Begging you to wake up.

Was this his fault? If he had been by your side would he have been able to help? Or is this just the price of this life. To be a mutant and having to fight just to live. Losing you was not an option but it was becoming a reality he had to accept was possible.

"I'm always proud of you. Doesn't matter what you do. I'm always proud." You tug on his tank top and pull him close.

Kissing him with a soft passion, a desire, an apology. He carefully lowers you down to the bed. He lays you on your side as he deepens the kiss, hand ghosting over the scar as he tangles his limbs with yours.

"I'm so sorry Logan." You bury your head in his chest.

It feels so good to be by his side again. He tilts your head up to look at him. He grows serious as he brushes your cheek gently. You're alive but there's still a horrible worry inside of him. Though he doesn't think that will ever go away. Not as long as he loves you and he's never going to stop doing that.

"Don't ever do something like this again. I'm serious sweetheart, I can't lose you."

"You won't." You can't promise him that. Not at all. Bad things happen to those he loves but he'll be damned if he lets anything happen to you. You yawn and cuddle closer to his side.

"How can I still be so tired after sleeping for so long?"

"You really hurt yourself sweetheart," He glances at your side. Knowing that under the blanket was a scar that would never fade. A constant reminder of his own failure to protect you.

"I'm sorry for leaving," He knows it was a dick move to leave has he had done but he couldn't take it. He was so angry. So afraid.

"Just don't leave me again." You say sleepily. His arms wrap around you, his hand rubbing your back soothingly until you fall asleep. He watches you for a while. Not tired himself but keeping his promise of staying with you.

"I was so scared," He admits to no one but himself.

He rests his chin on your head. The sound of your heartbeat echoes in his ears. The sweet reminder that you're okay. He closes his eyes as the nightmares in his mind return. Seeing your lifeless body. The blood. All of it. He tries to shake them away but the thoughts still linger.

"Please, don't leave me. I love you too much to let you go." He whispers his plea to himself, to you, to whoever is listening.

He kisses the top of your head and you smile in your sleep. The comfort of Logan reaching your dreams. That's good enough for him, as long as you're okay. That's all he needs.