#but you get crack in my wakeful consciousness now

[telleroftime]

Night Owl's Waking

Mornings might not be your favourite but he'll wake you anyways, in his own sweet way.

Rengoku Kyojuro x GN ! Reader || Romantic || 1.1k words

Warnings: N/A ,,, established relationship, tooth rotting fluff

A/N: I had to get this thought out of my head...

Kyojuro had a tendency to wake up long before you; it seemed to be in his nature to do so. The second the sun crept up from past the boundaries of the dark and distant horizon and the moment the birds started to chirp their shrill morning calls, his fiery eyes snapped open. Big, unblinking pits of flames yet focussed all the same as if they had never closed in the first place. Like a spark formed from the abrupt clash of metal breathing life in the furnace of his heart, Kyojuro had awoken with a sudden inhale. Fuel for his body like coal in an engine.

The first thing he does in the bed the two of you share is look around. It's always the same, simple scan of his surroundings as his body lays unmoving. A perfect stillness. He looks at the imperfections of the empty ceiling, then the wood of the dresser, then the sliding doors of the room. He looks at the seams making up the paper walls as if the shadows themselves could harbour danger. He gawks. Blinks. They never do and when he's satisfied, when he's alert, his eyes turn to you and the back of your head. It’s only then that his body moves to get a better view.

Kyojuro had tried to convert you into an early bird much like himself. It wasn’t on purpose… not really, at least. It was the simple, subconscious desire to talk to you in the wake of dawn. He had duties to tend to as the Flame Hashira. Tasks that needed to be done and missions that needed his dutiful attention to complete. So he always wished to hear your voice, see your face, and gain your attention. First thing in the morning, when the room was still coated in darkness and when the orange light of the dissipating night seeped faintly through the cracks and panels of your shared home: Kyojuro wanted to find solace in you.

The first time he attempted to wake you he did so far too brashly. That he recognises. His voice had been a loud boom in the silence of the early hour. It had far too much energy, pitched and crackling like a sudden bonfire, which earned him your foul mood and a grumpy scolding. Now he has learned to be careful, gentle and quiet and peaceful to help you adjust to the shift in your consciousness.

He lays with you for as long as his building energy allows and then, in a way that is incredibly natural and easy, he spreads his hand against your chest and pulls you back against his body.

It's your head that he kisses first with a soft and tender touch of his lips. It lingers as his eyes blink closed and a content breath fans over you. He can smell you, the scent pleasant to his senses, and from where he holds his hand against your chest he can feel the strum of your heart too. Another peck, then he trails the kisses down. Kissing your head again, kissing behind your ear, kissing the back of your neck. Propping himself up on his arm, he kisses your cheek.

That's what stirs you.

Your disgruntled hum has warm laughter rumbling in Kyojuro's chest and he can't help but kiss your face again in eagerness, pressing his lips more firmly against the contour of your cheek whilst the red tips of his hair tickle your skin. “Good morning, firelight!” He all but cheers. It's loud enough in your ear to have you squirm away from him in your sleepy confusion. Your hands tug at the blankets and you try to grapple yourself away from his voice. He laughs again, the sound filling the room. He had tried to be quiet.

With another attempt he keeps his voice relatively low. “Are you awake now?” Kyojuro asks. His eyes are beaming down at your form. There's a crease in your brows and a crinkle of your nose. He gets no answer from you though. Nothing outside of your near-inaudible sigh as you push your face into your pillow. “Ah, not yet it seems.”

So, ever the diligent man, he returns back to work after once again closing the small space between your bodies, kissing your shoulder with a smile. The bare skin, or what has been exposed to him, feels wonderful against the softness of his heated lips and only when he's left a few kisses there does he shuffle to adjust the yogi covering your body. He slips the sleeve back up your arm and pats your shoulder like a job well done. It’s an excuse to keep it there he realises, thumb rubbing and squeezing your skin through the fabric, as he kisses the back of your shoulder. Then his lips press against your spine and down the shape of it. Down and down, from the left side of the curve to the right. He leaves no spot unkissed. And, despite your clothes, he is sure you can still feel the heat of his breath as he mutters “tasty” between each confident kiss.

He could kiss your body like this for hours. To map the shape of your figure with his lips alone would be an honour to him, and perhaps when you’re awake you would allow him such a venture.

Nevertheless, just as he had hoped, it does not take long for you to rise from his gestures.

A groggy rumble sounds in your throat, a mixture of a displeased groan and a content sigh from his kisses. Then you whine, stretching against Kyojuro's chest. Sitting up he moves to kiss your cheek again, hot lips against your skin.

“There you are,” he says. You seem to ignore him.

“What time is it?” Another whine.

“The sun rose not too long ago… but I waited like you had asked me to!” Kyojuro said with a wide, proud smile. However, his answer still had you groaning and he watched, hand letting go of your shoulder and raising away from your body, as you turned around on the futon. The feeling of your arm snaking around his torso had him laughing, moreso when you tugged yourself closer to him.

“Are you hiding from me, my flame?” He asked when you burrowed your face into his warm chest.

“Only for a few more minutes…”

Kyojuro recognised the poor lie and yet he didn't find himself caring. “Naturally,” he said, kissing the top of your head, “I'll hold you until then.” And he would, of course, because despite the craving for conversation, seeing his night owl rise was more than enough to satisfy his longing for you. That and you have not told him to stop with his tender kisses.

[stoned-frog]

"The little things" 🖤🩸🤍

afterdeathcest fluff, word count- 1785

Goth hummed softly as he slowly gained consciousness. He lazily opened his eyes and shifted away from the light hitting his face, that must've been the thing that woke him up so early. Normally he wouldn't be so happy he can't sleep until noon but something stopped him from just falling asleep again. He raised his head to look at the two men laying beside him, sleeping, not bothered by anything. Geno was just next to him snoring every now and then, nuzzled into Reaper's black wing contrasting in color to Goth's pure white, making up Geno's personal pillow. Reaper was the furthest but still had his hand intertwined with Goth's, not letting go even in his unconscious state. Goth just stared and his single pupil widened, feeling his soul tingle. He finally had everything he could ever ask for, finally everything was peaceful again. He smiled and with a happy chirp rested his head next to Geno again, he wanted to kiss his cheek but didn't want to risk waking him up. He just covered them up with his other wing and tried to get a little more rest before they woke up. 

He opened his eyes again when he felt a shuffle. He looked over Geno to see Reaper trying to free his wing and be as quiet as possible. In silent agreement, which was more of a set of awkward gestures, they decided it would be easier to just wake up Geno too. Just as Goth turned to him, Geno shifted in his sleep hitting the other right in the nose. Goth hissed and jerked back, waking Geno up. Confused, he lifted himself looking at Goth covering his face with a hand. 

"Shit- shorry- sorry did I-" He tried to apologise, but given he woke up seconds ago he stumbled over his own words. Reaper giggled in the back, causing Goth himself to let out a muffled snort. 

"Well, that's certainly a way to wake up" The god commented. He got up from the bed and patted his wings before stretching, making a couple joints crack. 

"Feel free to join me anytime, I will go make us some coffee, I want to make the most of my day off" and with a wide smile he made his way to the kitchen. Goth slid off the bed soon after and retracted his wings. Geno was still half asleep and just when he was about to close his eye again Goth pulled his hand and gestured his head to the door.

"Oh give this old man some time to get up, my knees aren't ready to walk yet" He complained. Goth rolled his eyes.

"Reaper is way older than you, you know"

"Well Reaper doesn't have chronic pain" Geno snapped back, but his tone was still gentle. With a low groan he got up too, putting his arms in the air with a yawn. Then with one arm still up, tilted to one side, then the other. It was part of his morning routine Reaper forced on him to help with his pains. He quickly stopped as his spine cracked painfully.

"Geez, you ok?" Goth looked at him, trying to spot anything that could be hurting.

"Just my old man bones, 'm fine" He dismissed his son giving him a weak smile, though he felt pretty embarrassed how worried he got.

"Quit calling yourself that, what, you want me to start calling you old man?" 

Geno chuckled.

"Heh, never." Without further comment he walked out of their bedroom and Goth followed, making a mental note to remind Geno to finish his morning stretches later.

As they walked in, Reaper was leaning on the kitchen counter waiting impatiently for the little light on a kettle to turn off, staring into it intensely. Just when he noticed the other two and turned his head a little click signalled the water was ready. After awkwardly standing back up like he wasn't just drilling his gaze into a kettle he poured boiling water into three cups waiting next to him and placed them on the table. Geno started drinking almost right away, only stirring the coffee inside before taking a big sip. He needed something warm in his system. Goth grabbed bread and eggs and turned on the stove to start preparing breakfast. 

"You're here earlier than expected, especially you Gen. Did you do your stretches?" Reaper pointed at surprised Geno.

"Uhh... yea-"

"No he didn't!" Goth cut in as he cracked an egg onto the pan.

"Geno, come on. We talked about this... besides, you will have to go out today." The god revealed, leaving both Geno and Goth curious. He giggled at the anticipation he created.

"I said I want to make the most out of my day off, so I might have organised a little something so we can have fun together" 

It was the first time Reaper had a full day to spend with his family in almost a month, it was a tough period in the multiverse and no one could've predicted how much work the two gods would have. He was tired but he wanted to finally go out somewhere with both his lovers more than anything. Reaper got a little lost in thought until he heard Goth's voice.

"Well? What is it?" He asked enthusiastically, looking over his shoulder.

"That's.. a surprise..." Reaper tried to sound secretive but he couldn't help but smile, looks like Goth missed him just as much as he missed him.

"But-" he turned his gaze back to Geno. "Geno. We're doing your stretches so you don't whine when we go out."

Geno scoffed, annoyed, but didn't object. Goth smirked, he found it amusing that his dad was sometimes treated like a little kid by Reaper.

"And Goth. Clean up your wings, I know you just unsummoned them and I don't want to see the mess you left in the morning when we go to bed." Goth just growled a little in response and Geno smiled, happy he wasn't the only victim of Reaper's aggressive love. None would say it out loud but they missed the god's bossiness, he always meant well and with skeletons as stubborn as Geno and Goth sometimes they just needed someone like Reaper to push them to take care of themselves. As caring as Reaper was he needed to be taken care of too, and Goth was ready to take on that role today. He wrapped up with preparing breakfast for the whole three while his dads were busy chatting about whatever bullshit seemed relevant and put their plates before them. Scrambled eggs, tomatoes, olives and bread. When he put down Reaper's plate, the god looked up at him confused.

"You know I don't have to eat, you two can split this between yourselves" He was ready to push away his plate but Goth stopped him.

"I wanted to do this for you. Today's special and let's be real, you probably barely ate anything these past few weeks. Let's finally eat together, ok?"

Reaper sat quietly for a while staring at Goth with wide open eyes. Of course he wanted a meal together, how could Reaper be so stupid? A smile appeared on his face alongside a slight blue blush.

"Of course. Thank you, dove" he lifted himself to give Goth a kiss. Goth happily gave him another short kiss and sat down to finally eat. The whole time they were eating Geno and Goth tried to make Reaper reveal the surprise or trick him to spill any details, but to no avail. They were patient, they could wait, but seeing how happy Reaper was, trying to keep it in, they asked him more and more. Even Geno, who at the start wasn't much on board with going anywhere started to get excited, guess the mood of his two boys really was contagious.

"Thank you for the food Gothy" Reaper got up and grabbed his plate to put in the sink. He walked to where Geno was sitting and took out his hands for him to grab

"-And let's get your exercises done, get your blood flowing!"

Geno just chuckled in defeat and took his hands to get pulled up and into Reaper's embrace.

"My blood is already flowing, out of me, constantly" 

Reaper just rolled his eyes, but with his lack of eyelights only his annoyed sigh could indicate that.

"You walked right into that one~" Geno teased and put his forehead to Reaper's.

In the meantime Goth grabbed their exercise mats from the bedroom where Geno often stretches.

"Hey, I think I wanna join you today alright?" It wasn't really a question because as soon as he said that he started rolling out three mats.

"See? Even our little dove wants to motivate you, now come on." and with that the two walked over to Goth and started on Geno's routine.

"Face down ass up Gen!" Reaper corrected his posture. Geno groaned, shifting his legs.

"If you don't stop saying shit like that I'll stop doing these stupid exercises."

"You already don't wanna do them anyway, nothing will change." Goth looked over to Geno, stretching a lot more than him, just to show off.

The rest of their exercises went as always, a lot of cracks, groans and "You're going to kill me someday"s from Geno, but with motivation or rather silent competition from Goth they finished earlier than usual. They all went to change into something more decent than pyjamas and met again near the door when they were all ready to leave. Geno and Reaper were there way before Goth and when Geno banged on the bathroom door and Goth replied to "give him a minute" it was in fact not a minute but 15.

"What the hell took you so long??" Geno asked when Goth finally joined them.

"I just wanted to look a little nicer for you, that's all." Goth showed off his accessories and did a little spin. He went up to Geno and intertwined their fingers.

"You look very good yourself, it's not often you put effort into your outfit and look at you now"

Geno wasn't sure what to do with the unexpected compliment so he just muttered a little "you look very good too... you.... you both do"

Goth giggled, he loved making his dad so embarrassed.

"Alright, everybody ready?" Reaper jiggled the house keys indicating it's time to go. The two noded and Reaper opened the door for them theatrically to let them through like a gentleman and with the last little giggle from Goth the door closed leaving the house empty and quiet until the family decides to return.

[hollandsangel]

move over | m. sturniolo

okAY here we go this is my first sturniolo fic please be nice to me i am afraid

ps if you’d like to be tagged in any (possible) future fics comment 🍜

summary: matt needs a bigger bed

wc: 1k

warnings: matt x fem!reader, cursing, nightmares? no description really, just funny and fluffy 🫡 all the triplets are in it but reader is dating matt!

..does anyone remember that one video where matt said chris never sleeps in his own bed? well…

gif by @mattsturnioloarchive !

you feel yourself slipping back into consciousness, and you can tell from the soft, pale blue light of matt’s bedroom that it’s morning. matt’s fast asleep behind you, resting on his stomach with you tucked up into his side, his right arm slung over your waist. you’re already upset that you have to pee, the idea of crawling out of the sleep-warm bed and leaving your boyfriend’s cozy embrace is not an appealing one, but the nagging in your bladder won’t go away.

with a sleepy sigh you stretch your arm out just enough to the tap the screen of your phone, the numbers 8:23 glaring back you. you still don’t have to be up for another hour and a half, which you think is an acceptable amount of time left to lay in matt’s arms and snooze a bit more, even if you don’t really need anymore sleep.

it’s a bit tricky to clamber out of bed without waking the sleeping boy next to you. trying to keep from dragging the duvet with you when you slide out. you tuck matt back in properly before you wander off to his bathroom. softly, you click the door shut, and it, along with your sleep-hazy mind, muffles any sounds coming from outside the bathroom.

for once, chris slept in his own bed, knowing you’d be sleeping over and nick was editing the video meant to go up later this afternoon early into the morning. it’s too early for him to be waking up on his own but something stirs him into wakefulness, his heart beating a little faster than it should be.

matt had woken up for a mere second when you slipped out of bed and hasn’t fallen back into the depth of his sleep, waiting for you to come back. he’s just barley alert enough to hear shuffling from down the hall, getting louder until the person responsible is standing at the crack in the door.

“matt?” chris whispers, peeking into the bedroom.

matt groans and rolls over just until he can see his brother over his shoulder, “what, chris?”

“i had a fucked up dream, dude,” chris says, padding further into the room, “where’s y/n?”

matt turns a little closer to his brother, facing him now, “bathroom,” he mumbles, “what was it about?”

chris is still standing in the middle of the room, phone held loosely in his hand, “you got into a fuckin’ car accident, a really bad one” he admits, feeling a bit foolish and juvenile for running to his brother after a bad dream, “can i sleep in here?”

matt’s face softens and he rubs his eye, “yeah, ‘course.” he says, watching chris slowly walk towards the bed, “that’s her side,” he says though when chris tries to lay where you had been.

chris fakes a scowl and matt makes a face back, sleep still tugging at his mind. the two of them lay back down, back to back, tugging the covers over their shoulders.

you finish washing your hands and shut off the bathroom light. rubbing at your eyes, you make your way back to matt’s room, looking forward to sleeping a bit longer. upon wandering in you’re met with more than one body under the blankets, making you stop in your tracks.

“chris?” you wonder outloud, stopped in the door way.

matt answers before his brother can, “he had a bad dream,” he explains to you, face smushed into the pillow, leaving the words all muffled and extra groggy.

“sure,” you say, as if chris sleeping in matt’s bed doesn’t surprise you (it doesn’t). dragging your feet over to your side of the bed to matt, where he’s taking up a bit too much room. “move over,” you tell him when he peels the blankets back for you. he shuffles back with a little too much effort and you climb back into bed.

once you’re settled matt scoots a little bit closer to you to make more room for the three people now in his queen sized bed, but also because he never passes up an excuse to hold you a little tighter.

you doze in and out, matt’s soft breath against your neck keeping you a little bit dazed but not quite enough to lull you back to sleep fully. it must be nearing 10 am now, more bright sun spilling in from the cracks in the curtains above the bed. you think chris is awake too, hearing breathy little chuckles every now and then. you reach for your phone, deciding on a mindless scroll through instagram.

after a few minutes it sounds like nick has also woken up, his footsteps audible in the bedroom above. you hear him coming down the stairs, and you think he stops in the kitchen until his voice fills the quiet halls.

“chris?” he asks, standing in his brother’s empty bedroom, confused as to why he’s not in bed.

“in here,” chris speaks up, waiting for nick to press the door open.

he does, standing at arms length with a skeptical look on his face, almost afraid of what he might find. “um…hello, what are you doing in here?” nick asks, finally crossing the threshold.

“he had a bad dream,” matt says into your shoulder, startling you. you didn’t know he was awake.

“i had a bad dwream,” chris says in that stupid pouty voice that drives all of you insane, no doubt looking at nick with puppy dog eyes.

“oh…kay,” nick says and you laugh at the suspicion still evident in his tone.

“did you see the tik tok i sent you?” chris is laughing but stops abruptly when matt kicks him in the calf, which makes you giggle into your boyfriend’s arm.

“yeah, but i’m a bit more preoccupied with the absurdity of the three of you in matt’s bed right now,” nick says in his distinct deadpan drawl, which only makes you smile more.

“c’mon nick you might as well join us,” you say, earning a loud, over exaggerated groan from matt, his arms tightening around your waist.

you think nick must oblige because he doesn’t say anything for a second, coming closer to the bed.

“move over, dummy fuck,” he says to chris, who laughs out loud and scoots closer to matt.

“i hate them,” matt whispers in your ear.

tags! @mattsturnioloarchive @averysbestyears

[gojoest]

ROUTINE — gojo satoru

MDNI, f! reader, established relationship (married), oral (f! receiving), hickeys, terms of endearment (pretty, sweetheart, my love, my pretty wife, baby), not proofread, unedited, this is a mess, wc: 1.6k

gojo satoru is not one to be bound by routines.

anything that sticks to a particular schedule he finds boring — it contradicts his character that always seeks the thrill of the unforeseeable to further challenge his instincts.

…except for one little thing he grew to religiously follow every morning without fail, that is.

perhaps it’s not routine in his eyes, but rather an instinct, to be fair.

after all, what is he to do when he opens his eyes to the sight of his beautiful wife next to him — bare breasts firmly pressing against the side of his chest, hardened nipples burning into his skin, one leg draped over his, sleepily kneeing his already growing erection — but give in to his instincts?

at times like this he thinks — if he is the strongest, then you must be something even beyond him to make him rely so desperately on his instincts not driven by desire to prevail, but rather to survive. because, god forbid, he might just die if he doesn’t shelter himself in you, first thing every morning.

a slumbery smile stretching slowly on his lips. he can still taste you there from last night as he swipes his tongue across to wet them a little bit. a low hum of pleasure cracks from his throat at the memory of you, his senses now opening up and expanding further — the remnants of your taste in his mouth come along with the musky scent of you, and it sends an intense rush of blood to his cock.

he is throbbing against your knee like a nudging for attention.

head nuzzled against the crook of his armpit, you peck softly around the skin of his nipple. “five more minutes?”

“hm? the alarm hasn’t even gone off yet, pretty”

“oh?”, you tilt your head slightly to look at him, eyebrow pointing up, “it’s very loud and clear to me though”, now consciously pressing your knee tiny bit harder against his crotch and immediately getting rewarded with a groan from deep within his throat.

he chuckles, “oh— this one i can’t snooze, i’m afraid”

but soon his chuckle fades, replaced by a big inhale and then an elongated exhale mixed in with husky growls as you start to palm his cock laid bare on his stomach. dew-like precum oozing out of his tip as your hand rolls up and down, squishing him between the inside of your hand and his belly. “this one i can’t snooze either, i’m afraid— it wakes me to my core, every morning”

“i know that…”, he breathily whispers. his lips lock on your forehead as his hand finds yours to guide you with the movements, to slow you down a little — because, the fact you can’t resist him too might just make him cum on the spot. “…by the way you so sweetly open your legs for me every morning”, he smugly speaks, chest swelling with pride knowing that you want him just as bad.

“don’t get too cocky there”, you squeeze his head and swiftly roll your palm around it — “s-shit”, he hisses, hips involuntarily bucking up at your touch. “be gentle, sweetheart. after hours of being out of your warmth he is basically like a virgin now”

“my bad”, you release your grip and slowly trace your fingers up his chest. “i will give him some time to calm down”

a pained look in his eyes and a groan of frustration leaving his lips at the loss of your touch, his cock likewise twitching in protest. “that was not the point, sweetheart”, he drags out, yearning reigning in his voice. “come on….”, his hand reaching for your bare ass, squeezing the plush of it and pulling you closer simultaneously, fingers dangerously close to your entrance slick with arousal…

in a split second, you find yourself flipped over, with him hovering over you. his hands gripping the headboard for support as he spreads your legs apart with his knees. his cock hanging in the air between you, drizzling a few drops of pre on your belly for him to wipe it off and thumb it on your lips, pushing his digit in your mouth to rub the taste of him on your tongue.

a muffled moan tries to escape you but it only vibrates against his fingertip as you suck on it, savoring every bit of him in your mouth. you go about to clench your thighs, seeking little bits of friction down there, but alas — he’s keeping you nicely spread and still.

“oh, you need something down there, my love? my bad — let me help with that”, he cockily throws at you.

shifting a little bit down, his hands leave the headboard only to latch on you and spread your thighs apart even further for him to bury his face right in your cunt. inhaling deeply and starvingly, holding your scent in his lungs for as long as he can. and the more he does the eager he grows. a growl vibrates through your folds. “fuck, baby — you are just as needy, huh?”, he pulls away — his nose, mouth and chin dripping from your arousal. and you think — he looks just like a dog, salivating from the corners of his mouth and hunger seeping from his eyes, and you — you are his meal.

“shut up…”, you growl, biting your lip. the way he just breathed you in a second ago, almost snorting in your slick through his nose, sends hot coals racing through your body, the lower of your abdomen now swirling and sizzling with stroke inducing heat.

“of course, whatever my pretty wife desires” — is what he says to you before his lips move to the inner of your thigh, trailing sweet pecks on your flesh as his thumb makes a perfect land on your clit, rubbing it just the way you like.

“nghh—”, you gasp, a sense of whirlwind overwhelming your lower abdomen. you grab at his hair instinctively, attempting to draw his face closer to your cunt, but he takes his time as there’s one thing he must absolutely do first.

his teeth pinch the plush of your inner thigh, softly sucking on it but long enough to leave a mark, a signature if you will, that says mine. it’s for his eyes only, but knowing he’s marked you gets him going even longer after that.

a pleased smile on his lips at the view of his creation. his face finally moves closer to your cunt now that he’s done stamping you with the seal of his ownership. his gaze still locked on the hickey he left, proudly admiring it — after all, only he gets to be this close to your cunt.

two of his digits spread your lips for his tongue to sweep up and down the length of the inner of each, the tip of his tongue circling around your clit in between rotations, and it makes you breath become more ragged with each transition. your mouth opens and your eyes close — you toss your head back against the pillow as his tongue starts to dart in and out of you, smoothly swirling around. his thumb joining back to rub your clit and further empower your pleasure. like a second tongue against you, until you are reduced to a panting, shaking, teary-eyed mess. cumming in shocks and waves on his mouth, your body convulsing and hips violently smashing against his face as you ride your high.

he pulls away. “fuck, love”, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and then licking your residuals off of it like it’s the last drop of water on earth. there’s so much of you all over his face and inside his mouth, even still sliding down his throat — yet there he is, fighting for every ounce that slipped away. “you bring the greed out of me so easily”

you don’t have the breath in you yet to shoot a snarky remark at him. and he’s got no intention of sparing the time for you to gain control of your lungs — his cock’s been aching in agony from holding back until now.

leaning in to loom over you again, his elbow rested on the mattress, he slides his hand below your head to hold it gently. lips glued on your forehead as his free hand carefully aligns his cock with your entrance, tapping at it a few times and swiping up and down your folds to coat himself with you.

“satoru….”, you wrap your arms around him, hands exploring the broad canvas of his back, roaming around, up and down, and at last — stopping at his ass. fervently kneading on his cheeks, inviting him in with both hands that push his weight down to your cunt and hips that rise up to meet him halfway through. “hurry up. please”

“f-fuck”, he growls. your words send tremors down his entire body for a split second. his muscles tense up and he is trembling from the immense pressure his being is put through right now, from holding back to not just pound himself balls deep into you in one go.

but he holds back. he likes to savor this moment, after all it’s the best part of his day. the slow sliding of his cock inside you, the stretching of your walls, the way your eyes pop out with every inch he puts in you, the way your mouth hangs open giving way to the sweetest moans ever known to mankind…. he likes to sear all these into his conscious, every morning. without fail.

this is more than a religious routine at this point. it borders on addiction. just like every smoker needs that hit of nicotine every morning upon waking up — he needs his dose of you. the world might burn and crumble down, but gojo satoru will not lift a finger before he checks this off with you.

[unknownati]

xi. slow morning

a/n: from my draftz if theres typos dont tell me im blind and proud... as a side note i feel like i write intimacy better than anything else AM I TWEAKING.

warnings/tags: gn!reader, no use of y/n, no desc of reader's physical features, fluff and smut, short, handjob (e! recieving—very ekko focused), intimacy (both nonsexual and sexual), cuddling, morning sex, modern!ekko, slight sub!ekko, hoping this position is understandable lol, no morning breath mentions y'all arent in each others face, half-proofread...meaning i gave up halfway thru. goodnight! 🙋🏾‍♀️

_______________________________________________

warm slivers of sunlight seep through cracks in the curtains, spilling on your face as your eyes fluttered open, making a slow ascent into consciousness.

you're met with a phone screen, a pair of hands framing the device. ekko's. a thumb swipes along the screen, transitioning into the next video. two cats cuddling. you watch him hover over the send button, tap it, choose your profile, and type the message 'us :)' before sending it to you. your phone buzzes faintly on the nightstand, though you don't reach for it.

gentle breaths seep into your ears from behind you, relaxed and steady. a shift in movement, warmth enveloping your figure—his arms, which you reach up to stroke. his hold is protective and grounded.

he was long awake before you, you can tell from the way his voice sounds, smooth and airy.

"morning, angel."

it's a stark contrast from when he first wakes up. he sounds more gruff. more miserable. much like how you sound now.

you groan, soft. you stretch to rub the sleep out of your eyes. "g'morning."

you don't feel miserable, though. far from it. waking up in his arms is the only way you've ever liked waking up.

neither of you will be getting up any time soon. not with the way your legs are tangled together, the way he presses a tender kiss against the shell of your ear as a secondary greeting, it's all too...weighted. too comfortable to just brush past. it's the weekend, anyway.

you turn, neck slightly craned, forehead pressing into his clavicle. his scent clings to him, as intoxicating and heavenly as ever. the faint traces of last night's shower linger. you know he used your body wash—he always did. shea butter lied above a layer of his basic lotion (eucerin, you put him on since he has drier skin), completed with that divine cologne he uses. forest-y, notes of pine and bergamot.

your fingertips drag along the bare skin of his side, and he twitches away from your touch. a breathy laugh exits him.

"that tickles."

you stop, moving down to his core. "sorry," you murmur. it's half-sincere.

your digits dance across the surface of his stomach, quite literally. you create legs with your pointer and middle finger, making your little hand-person do twirls and jumps. his laughs bubbles again.

"that tickles worse," his chin meets the crown of your head when he looks down, unable to catch your expression. a hand meets your nape, mimicking your movements.

it's featherlight and playful, as if bugs are scuttling along your skin. you laugh the same as he does, shoulders shrugging up in discomfort.

"okay, okay! i'm sorry."

his hand settles at the bottom of your back, right where your spine curves inward. it's relaxed at first, but then it presses. pulls you closer. as if there's even any more space to close.

your legs wrap around his waist, the leg which you lay on pushing beneath his hip to raise it. it's only uncomfortable for a second, then it's like you're slowly melting into each other's forms. bare chest to bare chest, chins resting on the other's shoulder, hearts swelling at the same speed. you know your leg will fall asleep soon, but you don't care.

yet, he's not paying enough attention to you. not as much as you'd like. sure, his hand is stroking your back. sure, he still seems like he's trying to find ways to pull you closer. but his focus strays. it's all on his phone, undeserving.

his eyes stay glued to the screen, darting around. some video about owls. his hand was beginning to falter, his affection slowing.

greedy. you need more. you know how to get it.

you shift away and your hand meets his side again. he flinches, assuming you're continuing with your ticklish movements. he settles once realizing you won't. then it trails, a slow drag down towards the front of his boxers—a light blue pair with snoopy and woodstock printed in an even pattern. you bought them for him a while back, and he was never one to complain. plus, they were comfy.

only when your fingers breach the elastic band did he notice what you were doing. he doesn't stop you.

he wasn't soft for very long after you reveal his length. feeling it grow stiff in your hands made your heart rate pick up.

"i've barely even touched you yet," you murmur, turning to litter his neck with open-mouthed kisses. he groans in response.

his tip prods at your naval once his dick is standing at full attention. an airy chuckle flows from you into his ears. your fist closes just below the head, thumb reaching to rub along the sensitive underside. each vein, each ridge that you trace over elicits a whine—ones that are close to melodic, satisfying hums to your ears.

your hand moves agonizingly slow, long strokes that leave his mind going fuzzy. it's not long until his tip starts crying, which you happily collect as lubricant. his brows knit together, delicate gasps overlapping the video in the background.

ekko's face nuzzles into the junction connecting your neck and shoulder, plump lips pressing into the end of your collarbone. his moans muffle against your skin.

"hidin'?" you ask, your free hand reaching to run through his locs. he nods, slowly thrusting his hips up into your fist, meeting your movements halfway.

a small noise clicks behind you, and whatever video he was watching stopped. then a thud against the mattress. he dropped his phone. another arm clamps around you, and you know you've got him good.

finally, the attention is on you. his grasp on your body is tight, the sweet desperate nothings he whispers into your ears as he curses and begs you not to stop are angelic.

"fuck...don't stop. please, you make me feel s-so good. god, baby—"

you loosely echo his words back to him, voice sultry and raspy. "yeah?" you purr. "feels good?"

your wrist flicks faster, too quick for his lazy hips to keep up with. he loses rhythm, his pants stutter. he murmurs something, too shyly for you to hear, yet you can only assume he's coming undone. your theory is quickly confirmed, his movements slowing to a stop as he releases all over your hand and tummy, fingertips pressing into your back.

if only you could hear his pretty cries better. against your skin, they're low and subdued, but you can hear the incantations of your name paired with his voice breaking off at the peak of his climax.

neither of you realized how tense his body had become until he relaxes against you, hand still weakly skimming along your lower back.

still, your bodies were heavy. neither of you wanted to move. but the cum dripping off you was starting to feel weird, and you want it off.

you barely even get to think about moving before his arms squeeze tighter around you. "ekko, i wanna go wipe this off."

"not yet," he whispers shakily. "just...a few more minutes. can't be done with you yet."

you've definitely won his attention. for a few hours.

[miserycanary]

WHAT YOU'RE MEANT TO DO ᡣ𐭩

pairing: alpha!Simon 'Ghost' Riley & workcaholic omega fem!reader

synopsis: you've lived your whole life without any problems due to the status of being beta, and you liked it that way. It doesn't interfere with your work, and suddenly you're informed you're an omega? That can't be.

tags: small arguments, smut like.. actually, dumbification, slight size kink, belly bulge, hair pulling, praise, degradation, breeding kink??, daddy kink, slight overstimulation if you squint, spit kink if you live in delusions

You had a routine you religiously followed. The day starts with waking up at 4, never having trouble getting up because you always look forward to work. You leave the apartment you share with your boyfriend at 5:15— maybe later than that when Simon feels clingy and asks you to stay for that day. You’ll indulge for 5 minutes before pressing a kiss on his chapped lips, promising you’ll come home early for him which seems to satisfy him. 

Now you knew something was wrong when you woke up, exhausted, and all your bones weighed like a ton. Thinking back to last night, the clock displayed 10:15 when you finally resigned to bed, even unable to satisfy Simon (which he understood), opting to cuddle with you and nosing around your neck.

Your groan woke up Simon, his muscled figure making the bed creak as he followed your figure almost dragging itself to the bathroom. “Sweetheart?” he calls out, worry evident in his voice. “I’m fine, baby. Just feeling a little under the weather. Nothing some meds won’t fix,” the reassurance slips off your tongue easily despite all the alarms in your mind begging you to rest. 

Your breathing got labored as your body tried to function. Your lover seems to have taken your word for it and went back to sleep, making you crack a smile.

Finally, you managed to get ready.. at 5:40. On the way, you could feel stares pointing at you. Did you smell? ‘Did I shower? I.. forgot. No, no... I did..’ you think to yourself, putting your things down on the table and letting your legs rest. “What kind of fucking sickness is this?” mumbling to yourself. Your eyebrows furrow, cursing at the world and complaining about the medicine not taking effect. 

Time seemed to go fast but unbearably slow. It seemed like you could only recognize snippets throughout the day. Next thing you know, you hear your boyfriend’s worrying voice coming from your phone. Since when did you call? Nevermind. You hung up. Your mind flashes forward and the bright shine of your laptop looks back. For quite some time, you don’t recall moving, just looking dazed. ‘Water. I need water’ You finally snap back to reality, standing up. The world suddenly swirled and you found yourself on the floor. 

‘Oh, shit. I-I need to get up... Fuck, my legs won’t move'

Tears swelled in your eyes, feeling helpless as people started to crowd you. Amid the commotion, a thundering voice booms out, calling for you. “Y/N!” Suddenly, all you could feel was the cool feeling of your boyfriend’s skin on yours. His scent fills your senses. God, you could live off this. “Babe.. why are you here?” you look at him, sighing in relief when you feel his palm pressed against your cheek. “You called me, slurring your words.” His voice was so deep and rough, you thought. Involuntarily, you squeezed your legs when you felt something gush in between. Your period? No, no.. too early. Unaware, everyone seemed to catch up to what’s wrong with you. Everyone rushed to distance themselves from you when Simon held you protectively, hiding you away from everyone and glaring at those who seemed to look at you like prey ready to be devoured. 

Before you lost consciousness, all you could think of was you forgot to save your document. Then the next thing you wake up to is your apartment’s ceiling and the clattering from your kitchen with heavy footsteps. You could only assume it’s your boyfriend trying to cook. “Ghost..?” you call out, voice hoarse. In an instant, he was by your side with water in hand. “Hi, baby,” he starts, pushing the glass near your lips. You whine when you can’t even move to take a sip, and he melts at that. With gentleness, he tangles his fingers in your hair and pulls your head back, tilting the glass. “Open,” he commanded, which your body seemed to obey, your mouth opening and letting the cold water relieve your parched throat. As some droplets escape and cascade down your cleavage, you moan as it momentarily relives the heat your skin radiates. 

“Love...” your boyfriend starts with the tone you know he uses when it’s about something that will upset you. “You’re required by the doctor to stay home for 2 weeks,” he continues, which finally tips you off. “No! I-I have a project due in 5 days, okay? I just need some paracetamol.” Insisting, you move to get up but you feel your boyfriend’s palm on your waist pinning you down. “No, bunny. You’re staying.” You glare at him in return. A part of you was aware that he was doing this for your sake, but you were too stubborn to let him. “Ghost, stop. I’m not in the mood for any lovey shits, okay? Just let me be,” you snap. Usually, when you get this pissed, he lets you be and just rushes by your side when you inevitably pass out due to over-exhaustion. This time, he doesn’t. 

His stare was firm and commanding unlike the usual. Your Simon was soft, always there to clean up your mess. He never forces you to rest nor to listen to him— even if it is for the better. “Bunny, it’s not normal sickness, okay?” he still calmly explains, brushing the stray hair away from your face but you only slap his hand away, still frustrated. Seeing that you’re getting an attitude, he sighs and kisses your temple. “Do you know what your secondary gender is?” At his question, you stare at him like he asked you if you know the sky is blue. “Fucking hell, Ghost. Of course! I told you this the moment we met. I’m a beta, okay? Can you let me go now?” you hissed, attempting to raise his heavy hand of your hand yet he persisted and pressed harder. “No, princess,” he looks away in contemplation. “I rushed you to the doctor earlier, and… your testing was a mistake. You’re a freshly developed omega and it was advised you.. naturally let your heat happen.” 

There were a few beats of silence before you cackled, tears forming in your eyes. “Yeah, right, babe. As if. Can you just fucking let me go?” The news of you being an omega sounded fake— because it is, you scoff. “I’m not joking,” he mumbles with a new profound authority. After realizing he was serious, everything came crashing down on you. This couldn’t be. You loved being a beta. It doesn’t interfere with your life. You can’t be an omega. You can’t! No, it’s fake. This was a joke! Heats?? You?? No, no. That’s not true– 

“Y/N! Breathe!” Simon’s voice snapped you out of your haze, looking down to see your nails pressed so hard on his skin that’s letting out droplets of blood. Sobs were robbed out of your body, refusing to accept the change in you, yelling at your boyfriend to let you go. His figure immediately wrapped itself around you, pressing your face on his chest and nuzzling your head. “Calm down, bunny. It’s fine... Just calm down,” he soothes, putting his hand under your shirt to rub circles on your burning skin, and trying to get your breathing to match his. His shirt was drenched with tears but he didn’t mind. He muttered endless praises in your ear about how brave you are, and how you’ll be fine because he’s there. Ghost is there for you.

“I’m here, sweetheart” he cooed, pressing a kiss on your ear and laying the both of you down on the bed. He covered you entirely with his figure, protecting you from the world. With a final hiccup, you lose yourself to sleep and exhaustion, settling down and letting yourself be vulnerable with him with his pheromones blanketing your senses as if he’s the only thing there.

Waking up with a gasp, a layer of sweat covered your whole body when your attention was suddenly redirected to the wet spot below you that seemed to seep into the bedsheets. Hot panic took you over and you suddenly felt ashamed. Did you pee yourself out of nervousness? Clamouring, you stumble as you try to wipe the spot away, whimpering when another sudden gush dripped down your legs which woke Simon.

“Sweetheart? What’s up with ‘ya?”

You cry, rushing to his side and throwing yourself at him while apologizing profusely. “I-I’m sorry! Baby, I’m sorry... Please forgive me. I didn’t know!”

“Calm down, calm down.. tell me what’s happening,” his voice immediately calmed you down, your hands still clenching tight on his shirt and sticking your face in his scent gland. In an instant, the strong smell of whiskey, ground, and cigar invaded your nose but you welcomed it. The aroma calms down your nerves and allows you to talk without tumbling over your words. “I-I.. peed,” you mumble in shame that surprised your lover, but it seems the situation clicked in his head and he only responded with a chuckle. 

“No, baby... You didn’t pee,” he sighs, grabbing your waist and sitting you sideways on his lap, while he scoots backward to lean on the headboard. “It’s something omega releases in substitution to lube,” he starts his hand slowly peeling away your shorts, revealing your soaked panties. “This is slick,” his finger swipes along the covered lips of your pussy, a string sticking to his pad. He brings his soaked fingers near you when the smell suddenly hit him. You smell like cherry-fucking-pie.

‘Fuck, she smells so sweet. No, I need to be patient. It’s her first heat’ he thinks while he watches your eyes observe with fascination. He nosed around your scent gland taking in your pheromones that sent blood rushing to his dick. His hand pulls your panties to the side to directly flick on your clit, pressing his thumb down and circling. You whimper, holding onto his shirt as your legs instinctively close. Everything was heightened. It felt like you’d come any minute just from your clit getting pressed down.

“Spread them.” As if your body was possessed, your thighs separate, allowing Simon to completely slip off your underwear and press a single digit inside of you. The reaction was instant. Your back arches and your toes curl in pleasure, red chipped nails digging into his bicep, but he was too immersed in watching your pretty cunt take what he gives you to even care. “Good girl,” he praises, pressing his lips against your ear. Tilting your head to the side, you attempt on taking cover on his bicep, but Ghost only grabs your face, tilting it back. 

“Daddy needs to hear you, princess”

Your moans got higher as he added another finger and pumped them, borderline abusing your cunt. But you needed this. How else will you take your alpha’s massive cock? Looking down on you, he melts as babbles and whines were the only things you could muster. Your body writhes in pleasure, eyes rolling back in pleasure. “S-Simon! I’m... a-ah!.. close!” Feeling your release climbing, your pussy clenches around his digits while urging him to go faster; just a little more push to your climax. A scandalized gasp was ripped out of you when he suddenly stopped completely. “No, how do you ask to cum properly?” his voice grumbles, squishing your cheeks while your face is soaked with tears. “I wanna cum, Simon. Please please please–” he cuts you off, tightening his hold on your face and pressing his thumb hard on your clit. “No, not Simon.”

With that, you finally realized the key to your release. “Daddy, please. I wanna cum, please. P-put your fingers in again. Daddy, please” you whine, a hand releasing his bicep to place itself on his nape, pulling him down so you can messily press a kiss. Satisfied, he plunged 3 fingers in, forcing your cunt to take it. “There we go. Was that so hard, princess? Was it hard being polite to daddy?” he teases, pressing down on your sweet spot. His tongue licks around your mouth, sucking on the wet appendage and letting his saliva trickle down into yours.

You felt so tight around his digits, and the thought of how you’ll feel around him made his cock ache. The hard-on pressing against your lower back which lifted as the coil inside of you snapped. He watches with adoration as you soak his fingers and the bedsheets, a sense of accomplishment bubbling up inside his chest, making precum dribble out of his tip and stain his sweatpants. “Good girl,” the praise slips off his tongue absentmindedly as he sneaks a hand behind you, untying his pants and pulling it down just enough for his cock to spring free.

Still high from pleasure, he manhandles your body to the position he wants. Pushing your body forward so your face is planted on the sheets with your hips resting on two-stacked pillows. Amid pleasure, you got brought back when overstimulation ran through your nerves, feeling Ghost’s cock fill you up, inch by inch. You didn’t even realize when he had taken his bottoms off. The only thought running through your head was him, his smell, his overpowering pheromones, and his cock. God, his cock was driving you crazy.

“Babygirl, you need to loosen up,” he orders, slithering a hand under you to swirl around your clit. “No!.. oh! s-sensitive!” you whine, sobbing onto the pillow. “I don’t care, sweetie. You had your fill, now daddy needs his. Won’t you be a good girl and help me? I promise I’ll reward you,” he mutters, his chest pressing on your back. Driven with the need to be good for him, you let your cunt relax to take him in.

Slowly rutting his hips, he tries to thrust more of his cock inside of you. “Slowly, baby. Breathe for me. There we go. Perfect,” he groans, pressing his forehead on your nape when he finally felt himself completely buried inside your hot, wet cunt. “Such a perfect pussy. You want to make me proud, don’t ya?” You only whine in response, then a loud moan ripped out of you when you felt a subtle bulge on your stomach which got pressed down onto the pillow under the weight Ghost was putting down you. “Fuck, you’re so small, aren’t ya? Such a perfect cocksleeve. What a behaved slut for me.” Without a warning, he snaps his hips, thrusting in and out of you without mercy; like a carnal animal with the intent to just breed. God, this is heaven. This is where he’s supposed to be. With you, inside of you.

“I’m gonna fill you up so good, ma” he moans, your voice matching his. “Ah-ah-ah! Fast! Too fa— oh! Too fast,” you sobbed yet it felt so good. Every sense of yours was drowning with the thought of your mate, of Simon. You were so lost in pleasure, hands sprawled out on the sheets and gripping, trying to crawl away from the overwhelming pleasure. Ghost only clicks his tongue, putting his hands on your waist and pulling you back, filling you to the brim again.

“Daddy was too lenient on you huh? Maybe I need to keep you here. You won’t ever need to use that pretty head of yours, worrying about nothing, sweetie. I’ll do everything for you, okay? Your alpha will do everything for you.” You feel him pull back with the tip catching on your rim. As if given a break, you take a breath but suddenly everything was knocked out of you when he bottomed out with one thrust.

“F-fuck, you feel amazing. You just need to be good to me, okay? You just need to be a good mama for our children, stay at home, and let me use your pretty pussy when daddy needs to relieve stress” Pinning your waist down, it was like he actually sees you as a personal cocksleeve, using your body for his own release.

Thrusting faster, Ghost’s moans start to pitch higher, his hand tangling itself in your locks to pull your face from the pillow. Locking lips, he moans louder while pressing down on the bulge in your stomach, helping him get closer from the fact you’re so small— so easily to manhandle and to use freely. Maybe he should actually just keep you here. You won’t need to work. No need to stress that pretty head of yours over trivial stuff. He just needs you to stay with him.

The thought of you being swollen with his baby and staying inside the apartment waiting for him was the final thing that sent him to the edge. His tip spurting out cum filled you up to no end, kissing the entrance of your womb as he buried himself as deep as possible. Your hands scramble to hold onto something, afraid to get lost in the pleasure; scared of being a slave to the mind-numbing pleasure. You dig your nails on his thigh, sobbing and moaning in pleasure as his release triggered another of yours. Feeling so full, Ghost finally stopped cumming and lets you go. His spent body collapsing alongside you in exhaustion. Silence ensued between you guys, basking in each other’s presence. After a while, he got up to grab a towel to clean you up, knowing you’d be insatiable once your omega instincts completely settled.

Feeling his lips kiss your temple, his rough yet sultry deep voice (or maybe that’s just your love for him talking) telling you to relax made you purr. As you watch him take care of you, scrubbing down both yours and his spent off your body got you thinking. Maybe this is where you’re supposed to be. Doing nothing but behaving for your lover, keeping Ghost happy.

꒰ა ☆ ���꒱: AHHHH!! It's my first full-length fanfic which happens to be my very first explicit and descriptive smut. Please be gentle with the criticisms!! Also, do you guys want a König version? Please comment if yes.

dividers by @cafekitsune

Please reblog!! Ask is open!

⟢ taglist is open!! Comment if you want to be tagged in the next posts.

check out my other works in the masterlist: ୭!

[crescenthistory]

could i get f.4 "you woke me up for this?" with barty? tysm xoxo 💗💗

every single time someone makes a barty request, an angel is born, or whatever that saying is. had to jump on this immediately, thank you for the request love<33

Prompt: F.4 "You woke me up for this?"

Words: 3.6k

Warnings: not proofread, unbelievably soft, a lot of banter and back-and-forth (slight sunshine x grumpy dynamic where reader is grumpy), barty sneaking into your dorm is a typical occurrence, no gender mentioned/gender neutral reader (as far as i can recall), implied insomnia, implied mental health struggles on barty's end, slight mention of scars at the end, close physical proximity/cuddling

Note: this got way softer than i expected, but i really just love him you guys

The velvet black of the night pressed against the windows of the Slytherin dorms, thick and unyielding. The soft glow of the enchanted ceiling in the common room had dimmed hours ago, and the castle itself was silent, save for the occasional creaks of ancient stone settling in the night.

Peace. Blissful, undisturbed peace.

You were nestled under layers of blankets, sunk deep into the comfort of your bed. The dormitory was cool, a chill hanging in the air, but you had cocooned yourself snugly. The last remnants of sleep tugged at your consciousness, heavy and sweet, drawing you back into the oblivion of dreams.

Until—

“Treasure…”

A voice, teasing, playful, cut through the silence.

You squeezed your eyes shut tighter, ignoring it.

“Treasure.”

This time, the voice was closer, almost a whisper, right by your ear. A hand—warm and familiar—poked at your shoulder.

You groaned, curling deeper into your blankets, hoping to disappear completely.

“Go away, Junior.”

“Come on, wake up.”

It wasn’t just the voice now. Fingers were tugging at the corner of your blanket, trying to pull it away from your face.

Another groan escaped your lips, and you finally cracked open an eye, squinting against the dim light that seeped in from the common room. Standing beside your bed was your personal idiot with his familiar grin plastered across his face, eyes gleaming with the excitement of someone about to cause trouble.

“Barty, no,” you muttered, voice thick with sleep. “I’m asleep.”

He let out a dramatic sigh, tossing himself down onto your bed, stretching out beside you as if he belonged there. You shushed him as the bed squeaked, not wanting to wake your roommates, who you now were grateful were deep sleepers. His limbs splayed chaotically across your bed, one leg in each corner, arm draped across your stomach as he rested his chin on your shoulder.

“Hellooo,” he murmured again, a soft lilt in his voice that always seemed to stir something in you, even in the dead of night. “I need you.”

“No, you don’t,” you grumbled, trying to shove him off, but he was persistent, curling against you with all the determination of a cat who had found its spot. “Whatever it is can wait until I’ve had my beauty sleep.”

“You’re already beautiful,” Barty said without hesitation, his grin only growing wider. “I’m bored. And you’re fun.”

“I was asleep.”

“I know, but I’m awake, and that’s more important, don’t you think?”

Your only response was to groan again and attempt to roll away from him. Barty’s quick reactions saved him, as he clutched onto you so that he rolled along with you, ending up on the other side of your bed. His arms tightened around you, effectively trapping you against him. 

You finally open your eyes properly, seeing him grinning at you, face inches from yours. Part of you almost hoped this was about to be an emotional breakdown of some sorts, so that it might actually warrant breaking into your room to disturb your slumber.

Unfortunately, Barty was in a great mood.

“Now that you’re up – what’cha wanna do?”

“You woke me up for this? To quench your thirst for entertainment?”

“Precisely.” 

“You’re impossible,” you muttered, but there was no real heat in your words. You were used to this by now. Barty had a way of worming his way into your space, uninvited and unapologetic, until you gave in – which you always did.

“That’s why you love me,” he teased, voice warm against your skin as he nuzzled closer.

“I tolerate you,” you corrected, though the corners of your mouth betrayed you with the slightest twitch of a smile.

Barty noticed, of course. He always did. “Aha!” He said a bit too loudly, earning him a swat on the arm. “You’re smiling, Treasure. Evidently, you can’t resist me, either.”

“I’m frowning.”

“You’re smiling.”

“Frowning.”

“Definitely smiling.”

“Either?” Your sleep-ridden brain eventually processed his sentence.

“You heard me.” Cheshire cat grin remained plastered on his face. Stupid face.

Before you could protest further, Barty shifted, propping himself up on one elbow so he could look down at you. His dark curls were a mess, green strands sticking out from random places, tumbling into his eyes, and he looked far too pleased with himself for your liking.

“Okay then.” You hooked a finger into the collar of his t-shirt and looked at him expectantly. “What do you want, Barty?” Your voice was softer now, mostly to incite him to keep the general volume down – and perhaps partly out of fondness for your peculiar best friend. Perhaps you liked the way he clung to you, even at inconvenient times, the way he needed you.

Barty’s expression shifted slightly, a flicker you couldn’t place passing over his face, though his grin didn’t falter. “I wanted to see you,” he said simply, as if that explained everything. “Do I need to want anything more? I couldn’t sleep.”

“And you decided that meant I shouldn’t either?”

“Exactly.” He beamed, clearly proud of his logic.

You stared at him for a moment, half-expecting him to break into another fit of laughter or say something ridiculous, but he didn’t. Instead, he just looked at you, his gaze soft and affectionate in a way that still took you by surprise sometimes. For all his chaos and insanity, Barty had a way of making you feel like you were the only thing in the world that mattered to him when he looked at you like that.

It was disarming, and, despite your best efforts, you found yourself softening, your irritation fading like mist in the morning sun.

“You’re ridiculous,” you muttered, but your voice was gentle now, resigned.

“That much we know.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t argue. Instead, you let out a long, exasperated sigh and reached up to push the stray curls out of his face with your hand not currently tucked into his collar. Both for no particular reason – you just enjoyed the closeness. His hair was soft under your fingers, and you could feel the warmth of his skin where your hand brushed against his forehead.

“Tell me then, rascal,” you said after a moment. “Why couldn’t you sleep?”

Barty’s grin faltered slightly, the usual mask of chaotic energy slipping just a little. He shifted, lying back down beside you and resting his head on your pillow, his face inches from yours. For a long moment, he didn’t say anything, and you could see the gears turning in his mind, like he was trying to decide how much to tell you.

“It’s just…everything,” he said finally, his voice unusually soft. “You know how it is. My dad, school, all of it. It gets to me sometimes. And then I start thinking, and when I start thinking, I can’t stop, and…well, here I am.”

You blinked at him, surprised by the honesty in his tone. Barty wasn’t usually one to talk about his feelings – at least, not in any serious way. He was more likely to brush everything off with a joke or a snarky comment, hiding behind his manic energy and that sharp, clever mind of his. But now, in the dim light of your dorm, he seemed more vulnerable than usual, the edges of his bravado softened.

You sighed again, but this time it was a softer sound, more understanding than annoyed. “You should’ve just said that instead of waking me up with your usual nonsense.”

Barty chuckled, though there was a faint edge to it. “What, and miss the chance to annoy you? Never.”

You rolled your eyes again, but this time you didn’t push him away. Instead, you reached out and brushed your fingers against his cheek, a small gesture of comfort that he seemed to appreciate. He closed his eyes at the touch, leaning into it slightly, like a cat seeking warmth.

“I don’t know how you do it,” you said quietly after a moment.

“Do what?”

“Deal with everything. Your dad, all the expectations. It’s a lot, Barty.”

He opened his eyes again, and for a moment, you saw something raw and unguarded in them. “I have to,” he said simply. “What else can I do? Run away? Disappear? I’ve thought about it, you know. Just leaving everything behind. But then…I think about you.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Me?”

“Yeah, you.” He reached out, his fingers brushing against your hand, tracing lazy patterns on your skin. “You keep me grounded, Treasure. Without you, I’d probably go completely mad.”

You couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips at his words, even though you tried to suppress it. “You’re already mad, Barty.”

He grinned, a spark of mischief returning to his eyes. “True. But you keep me from going completely off the deep end.”

You huffed out a soft laugh. “Well, I’m glad I can be of service.”

Barty shifted closer to you, his arm slipping around your waist. “You’re more than that, though. You know that, right?”

Your heart did a strange little flip in your chest at his words, and you felt your cheeks warm. You did know though – he always made sure you did, in one way or another.

“I’m not good at this,” he murmured, his voice low. “I’m not good at…feelings. But I’m good at knowing what I want. And I want you. Always have.”

You swallowed hard, unsure of what to say to that. Barty was the one presence in your life you could count on, no matter what gave. Somehow, you realised you hadn’t fully grasped just how much he meant to you – feelings weren’t exactly your forte, either. When he lies beside you in your bed, all soft and serene, it’s easier to understand.

“I know,” was all you whispered, voice barely audible.

Barty’s gaze flickered, tenderness flashing on and off across his face, as if he couldn’t quite decide if he wanted to stick with it. He reached up, brushing his fingers against your cheek, and for a moment, the world outside your little bubble of blankets and whispered words seemed to fall away

His fingers lingered on your cheek, feather-light, as if he was afraid you might disappear. His eyes were uncharacteristically calm. It was unsettling and comforting all at once, and you weren’t sure how to process it.

“You’re not supposed to be this serious, you know,” you teased, trying to break the tension that had settled between you. It wasn’t unwelcome, but it was unfamiliar territory, and you preferred the safety of routine. You both pushed each other to confront your fears in that sense.

He chuckled softly, his lips curling into a soft smile, and your heart ached a little as you realised it was best described as intimate. “Don’t worry, Treasure. I’m still a menace. But even menaces need their moments.”

“You take all the moments you need.” You shifted slightly closer to him at that, knees brushing his through the blanket – he never bothered slipping beneath it.

“Nah,” he teased. “Then we’d be here all night. And day.”

“I wouldn’t mind spending all night with you here.”

“Oi!” he whisper-yelled at you, eyes jokingly widened. “Are you flirting with me, Treasure? You can’t turn the tables on me like that when I’m all vulnerable and shit.”

“I can do whatever I want, Junior.” You stuck your tongue out at him before laughing quietly at his facial expressions. 

“That you can.”

“I deserve it after you woke me up.”

“Oh, come on,” Barty said, his voice dropping to that low, affectionate tone he used when he wanted to get under your skin. “You love it when I wake you up. Admit it. Love spending time with me.”

“I absolutely do not.”

“You literally just said you do.”

“And where’s your evidence?” You quirked your brow at him and he squinted his eyes at you. Pulling “the evidence card”, as he called it, was your favourite way to get out of being held accountable for saying something sweet to him – he hated it, or so he said.

“First of all, rude.” He lifted a finger to shake in your head, fake gasping as you pretended you were about to bite it. “Second of all, you do love me. Say it.”

“Maybe just a little bit.” You gave in, small part of you wondering if maybe he needed to hear it.

“Methinks a lot of bit.”

“No way.” You couldn’t give it to him entirely either, though.

He clearly didn’t mind your bickering too much as he laughed, the sound quiet and warm, and you felt his arm tighten around your waist, pulling you closer. His forehead leaned down to rest against yours, breaths mingling in the small space between you. Instinctively, you took a deep breath, as if suddenly relaxed.

“Liar,” he whispered, his nose brushing against yours in the softest of touches.

No words of protest or argument came to mind, as you let your eyes drift shut, sleepy smile spreading across your lips. “Yeah, I am.”

Nights with Barty coming barging in, although a pain in the morning, were rewarding in a way you couldn’t quite describe. You wouldn’t trade them for anything.

“There we go. Admitting you have a problem is the first step in making progress.”

“You would know.” You peaked an eye open just to confirm that he stuck his tongue out at that comment. Because of course he did.

Silence settled comfortably between you for a minute, Barty’s thumb drawing soothing circles on your waist in the blip of skin showing between your sleep shirt and shorts. His hands on your skin was not a new sensation, you were aware you were touchier than most best friends – Regulus and Evan seemingly never stopped reminding you – but it just felt right. Being near Barty felt right, even when he constantly tossed and turned, limbs all over the place as it was apparently humanly impossible for the boy to sit still. Whether it is an arm around your shoulder, your head on his chest or fingers tracing one another, physical contact with him soothed your soul.

You felt safe.

“Do you feel better?” you suddenly asked, opening your eyes to find him already looking at you with a soft, surveying gaze.

“What?”

You almost snorted at his dazed confusion. “You came here because you were bored, couldn’t sleep, needed entertainment. Because I’m fun, remember?”

He laughed in the way he usually does at his own jokes. “Oh yeah, right.”

“So, do you feel better? Or should we take a run around the dungeons to get your adrenaline going?”

You could almost see his ears peak up, like when you say the word treat around a dog – but that almost lazy smile around his lips never left. “Don’t tease me with a good time, Treasure – or do, I’d never say no to a good time with you.” You rolled your eyes at that. “But no, I’m good. I’ve got all I need right here.”

“Which is?” you asked quizzically, expecting banter.

The earnest look in his eyes suggested otherwise. “You.”

Your heart clenched, your lip almost quivering with emotion before you decided to get it together. “Cheesy.”

“Yeah,” he laughed. “But true.”

“You’re entertained by me mocking you a little bit and then kind of half-sleeping in your arms?”

“Yeah.” He repeated. He looked at you with a look that said are you stupid, what is there not to get. You couldn’t help but laugh at him.

“Okay, then. Whatever makes you happy.”

“Glad to have your approval, ma’am.”

You raised a brow at him. “Ma’am? You should start calling me that more often.”

“Instead of Treasure?”

“You can mix and match.”

“Noted, ma’am.” His gaze was teasing, as was his squeeze to your hips.

You stared at him as you tried to figure him out, figure the two of you out. How come he settles this peace in your body, even when he represents everything but? How come you understand him so well and seemingly not at all, all at the same time? Why does he seek you out when he doesn’t feel good, why did he even seek you out when you first met? Why–

Barty takes your bottom lip in between his two fingers and drag it out from between your teeth.

“Stop biting yourself; it’s not nice.” His tone was teasing, but his eyes were trained on you as if studying. “What’s going on in your head?”

You hummed in confusion, looking at him to explain himself, but he just get staring at you, expecting an answer. You sighed.

“Just wondering,” you said, half-trailing off. “I don’t know. Why do you always come to me, Barty?”

“As opposed to what? Cuddling up to Black? He’d kill me without a second thought.”

You laughed a little at the imagery, knowing all too well that Regulus keeps his wand under his pillow and has no qualms about hexing intruders with it. You’d been on the receiving end once by accident, when Barty dragged you all the way to his dorm with him when he forgot his books before heading to the library with you on the one day a week Regulus “sleeps in”, meaning gets up at 9 instead of 7.

“Yeah, no, please don’t do that. I’d like you to keep all your limbs.” He gave you a look that screamed exactly. “I mean, why am I a source of comfort for you? I don’t exactly give you an easy time.”

“I think you need to reevaluate how hard you are on me – because you aren’t, you’re barely any bark and definitely no bite,” Barty started and you rolled your eyes playfully at him, to which he chuckled a bit. 

“I can bite.”

“Is that a promise?” He winked at you, earning him yet another swat of the night. “And to answer your question, I don’t know. You’re just you. You see the parts of me everyone run away from, and you have fun with them. That’s all I need really. You’re all I need. I can’t really put it into words in any way that makes sense; it just intrinsically is. I mean, why do you find comfort in me? I feel like that’s more outrageous.” 

“I… I don’t know. I guess you’re right. You’re just Barty.” 

You met his gaze, admiring every colour that speckled his irises, unconscious smile spreading across your lips. Your fingers go up to trace along the edges of his face, as if taking him in. Just Barty.

“Then we feel the same.” Barty confirmed, seemingly pleased by this.

“We feel the same.”

It seemed the closest the two of you would come to an outright confession of love for now. It still settled in your heart as one.

His hand came up to hold yours, pressing it more firmly into his cheek. He turned his head to the side, pressing a surprisingly soft kiss to the inside of your palm. Your chest was working overtime to process the emotions and you were desperate to move on, to calm the storm in your heart named Junior.

“You’ll keep me sane, and I’ll be the death of you. Feels like a fair bargain, no?” Barty teased, as if he knew you needed to lighten the atmosphere. 

Your throat still felt tight from emotion, but you laughed nonetheless. 

“A bit unbalanced maybe, but I’ll take it.” You let your hand slip from under his to play with the hair at the nape of his neck. “Though, I think sanity might be reaching a bit too high. Stable is more like it. Able to partake in society.”

“Ugh, society.” Barty’s reaction to your last sentence was automatic. For the rest, he simply poked you in the side. “But yeah, seems like a good deal. Stable. That’s more than anyone else could manage.” 

You shook your head. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, you’re still here.”

At that, you shuffled closer to him, burying your head into the crook of his neck. “And I always will be.”

His hand came up to thread his fingers through your hair, and you could feel his smile as he leaned down to press a soft kiss to the top of your hair. It was so low you couldn’t be sure he actually said it, but you thought you caught a weak thank you.

“Say, Barty,” you whispered into his neck. “Are you entertained by me when I’m asleep as well, or should I be a good friend and stay awake?”

He breathed a laugh into your hair. “I’m surprised you’re actually still awake and talking to me. Go to sleep, darling.”

“You’ll be good?”

“In what capacity of the term?”

From this position, you could barely give him a light swat on the shoulder. He buried his face closer in your head as he sighed.

“No, I’ll be fine. I really just… I just needed to be with you. And now I am. So you can go to sleep with a good conscience.”

You squeezed him a bit tighter at that, one hand slipping up under his shirt to trace patterns along his back, fingertips dragging over scars and moles alike. He sighed into you at your touch.

“Goodnight, Barty. Wake me up if that head of yours gets too loud.” You pressed a soft kiss to his collarbone through his shirt.

“Yes, ma’am,” he whispered into the night.

When your roommates woke up in the morning, none of them were surprised to see a Barty-shaped shadow through the curtains of your bed.

[ohdeerfully]

I just read one of your works with Alastor ears and KAKAISKSNSMSDHJSJ IT WAS ADORABLE, can you write one about the reader finding out Alastor has a tail and he's all flustered and nervous about it because well HES THE RADIO DEMON HES SCARY and he can't be scary when his tail wags when the reader praises him (MAKE IT WHOLESOME PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE)

HELLOOO I LOVE ALASTOR TAIL!! tail + more sleepytime = deadly fic combo THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST!

Silky Fur

alastor x reader (comfort/fluff) TW: none? join my discord!

◈ ══════════ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ══════════ ◈

After a year of being together, you and Alastor had fallen into a rather steady nightly routine, though sometimes he was too busy with Satan Knows What and would leave the hotel and you wondering if he would come back to you for the night. When this happened, you often didn’t see him till the next morning—or, even the afternoon.

Lately, that “sometimes” had turned into every night. For the past week. And it was starting to make you feel… kind of shitty, you couldn’t even lie to yourself. You spent so many hours reasoning and making excuses for him—he was an Overlord, after all. No wonder he was so busy! Plus, you just so happened to fall into his life; you shouldn’t expect him to just give up his duties for you.

You looked at the ceiling, arms spread out on either side of you as you tried to convince yourself to stop feeling bad for the sixth night in a row. You missed him next to you, and started to find it harder and harder to get to sleep without his company. You craved him, and you wondered if he craved you in the same way—if he even missed you.

You sat up with a groan after a few more minutes, letting your feet dangle off the side of the bed. It was pointless, you decided, just laying down doing nothing. If you couldn’t sleep, you might as well go do something productive. You threw on a hoodie and made your way down the long corridor, and then down the steps.

This late in the night, the sky had an eerie red glow. It filtered through the curtains of the large hotel windows, casting long, sharp shadows that made your skin crawl if you looked too long. No matter how long you lived in Hell, you never got used to the unfriendly ambience. You had to remind yourself that you were safe in the hotel. You stuffed your hands in the pockets of your hoodie and looked towards your feet as you walked.

There was some paperwork regarding a couple residents you promised Charlie you would help her process. So, you decided you could get a headstart on finishing them, although you didn’t really see the point in the paperwork itself; it was all just going to be horrible criminal records that Charlie would try desperately to ignore.

You opted for the hotel lobby over the cramped office, spreading out the papers across the low coffee table. It wasn’t very comfortable, but you were glad to at least be out of the room.

You sat for a mind numbing amount of time, only listening to the ticking of a faint clock as you processed the information for the residents. It was times like this that made you want to curse Alastor for refusing to allow any sort of modern technology into the hotel. You get it, of course, with Vox and all—but, man, what you wouldn’t give to just have an easy spreadsheet to type this all into.

If you weren’t tired before, you sure were now. Your eyes drug across the papers, blearily taking in the information. You blinked heavily, trying to rid your vision of the tears of exhaustion. You slumped back with a sigh, the pages loosely held in your hands as you rested your eyes for a moment.

Bad idea.

Almost immediately, sleep overtook you, papers slipping through your fingers and drifting across the floor in every direction as your consciousness faded away.

You woke again when you felt your body jostling, then suddenly lifted. It took a minute to wake up enough to peer through cracked eyelids and see that you were being carried up the hotel stairs. You felt familiar arms cradling your back and legs, and the firmness of a chest that your head rested against.

You didn’t need to look up to know who it was. That staticy feeling in the air and prickling your skin was enough to know. You let your body relax again, but couldn’t seem to catch sleep again.

He hummed a gentle tune as he walked, using his knee to turn the doorknob to your shared room. He pushed it open with his shoulder and walked you in.

You felt the plush sheets of your bed as he sat you down, but you pushed yourself back up into a sitting position to look at him. Stare at him. You hoped he could pick apart your emotions just by the way you glared. If he did, he made no attempt at asking what was wrong, and merely looked back at you with his slightly glowing red eyes and wide grin.

“You’ll hurt your back, falling asleep on the couch like that!” He started to chastise you playfully. He turned his back to you and opened up a drawer against the wall.

“Where have you been, Al,” You asked, ignoring his comment. You looked towards your feet. It was hard questioning him, because he didn’t take much seriously, no matter how serious you felt. There was a lump in your throat as you spoke.

“Busy as usual, my dear,” He replied in a sing-song voice. A quiet jazz tune emanated from the microphone atop his cane. Or, would that make it a radio? Both, probably. He rummaged through that drawer for a moment, before pulling out a thin, plain shirt and fuzzy pajama pants.

He walked back over to you, and you noticed the way his eyes flicked across your face, examining your expression. Still, he said nothing. You’d like to think he felt guilty, and didn’t want to admit it—but, truly, you doubted it. He wasn’t one for guilt, after all.

“I’ve been pretty lonely for a week, you know,” You said, folding your arms. “I’d at least like a better explanation.”

You allowed your arms to fall when he pulled at your elbows. You lifted them above your head as he gingerly gripped the edges of your hoodie and pulled it off. He quickly replaced it with the shirt he had grabbed earlier. He followed similar motions with your pants.

As angry as you were, you appreciated intimate moments like this with him. Moments so close, so vulnerable and bare, but still comfortable and sensitive. It was weird, with him being the Radio Demon and all.

“Maintaining turfs and deals is exhausting work, ma moitie, and there’s a few souls that haven’t been keeping up with their side of our bargains,” Alastor explained rather indifferently. Though, you could tell by the strain in his smile and the clipping in the radio static that he was trying his best to be delicate and honest—as possible as that is with Alastor.

“Just– tell me something next time, at least, ‘kay?” You felt embarrassed by the practically begging tone in your voice, but Alastor didn’t seem to notice.

“I suppose it is wrong for a gentleman to leave his lady questioning,” Alastor joked. He meant it, though, and he carefully smoothed your hair in an attempt at comfort.

He stepped away from you, and you frowned at the sudden space. The frown was quickly replaced by a wide smile when you noticed Alastor removing his sharp coat and carefully hanging it by the door.

What a treat, you thought, as you watched him discard the layers of his outfit. Your mouth fell open when he turned his back to you.

“You have a tail?” You asked. Alastor’s ears twitched back for a moment, stiff.

Clear as day, right in front of your eyes, was a tail you had somehow never seen before. Delicate, fluffy, and red with black—just like his ears. You couldn’t stop the stunned laugh that escaped your mouth.

“Regretfully, I do,” Alastor responded. He quickly turned back to face you. His nose was scrunched in disdain and his lips were curled in a frustrated smile. “Don’t talk about it. To anybody.”

You laughed again and quickly beckoned him towards the bed. He complied and sat down next to you. He had noticeably sat in such a way that his waist was angled to keep his tail out of sight. 

You pouted at him, wordlessly motioning towards what you both knew you wanted.

He narrowed his eyes at you. “I’m not a pet, nor a toy,” He said roughly. The static in his voice was heavy. You knew he was embarrassed, and that made your grin all the wider. It probably rivaled his own harsh smile.

“I’ll never, ever, ever ask again, ever,” You promised, holding out your pinky. Alastor’s eyes rolled at the motion. Alternatively, he held out his palm for you to shake.

You eyed his hand, then looked back up to him. You jerked your pinky towards him, urging him to take it instead. You weren’t about to actually bind your promise in a real deal. You knew in, like, a week you would probably beg him to see his tail again. 

“How incredibly childish,” He sighed. Still, he curled his hand into a fist and connected his sharp pinky with your own. “I won’t forget about this.” He threatened.

“Yeah, yeah, show me the goods,” You said with a sly smile. Alastor stared at you for a few seconds, narrowed his eyes, and roughly twisted his waist so that his tail turned towards you. He kicked his leg up and over the other, and folded his arms all sassy-like and impatiently waited for you to finish your very important mission.

You smiled gratefully, and gingerly settled your hands on the tail. It was so incredibly soft. As much hatred he seemed to hold for the thing, Alastor obviously took great care in the fur, keeping it silky smooth and combed. 

It seemed sensitive, and you noticed how his ears twitched and turned in response to your touch. His eyes were cast away from you, and his brows were furrowed. Was he blushing? No, probably a trick of the light.

“Your tail is super soft, Al,” You complimented. “Probably the best in all of Hell.”

“Are you quite finished,” He asked through gritted teeth, his eyes clenched shut. His own body betrayed him, though, as his tail wagged at you slightly. You held in a squeal of delight at the sight, knowing he would probably leave you right then and there. However, you had been at it for a few minutes and didn’t want to push your luck any further. You sighed in response, and removed your fingers from his tail. 

“I guess, for now,” You said playfully. This elicited a sharp look from the Radio Demon.

“For forever,” He claimed. “We shook pinkies.” 

You managed to hold in the laugh from his words. It was impossible to take him seriously as he said that, especially as he sat with a tail on full display and ears quirked backwards in embarrassment.

You yawned, opting to stop responding to him. You tugged at the hem of his shirt as you fell back into the mattress, and he easily let himself fall alongside you. He was settled next to you, and you practically magnetically attached yourself to him. He was stiff for a few minutes, but slowly unwound and relaxed next to you.

It didn’t take long at all for you to fall asleep. With the familiar heat and weight of his body in the mattress next to you, you were comfortable again for the first time in a week. The feeling of Alastor’s nails playing through your hair was the final straw as a deep sleep erased your senses.

[themultifanshipper]

sooo.. i've had this scenario stuck in my head today... in the morning after your wedding night with carlos you both wake up needy bc you were too tired after partying all night... just imagine his raspy voice in the morning telling you to be good for him 😫 i'm a whore for (soft)dom!carlos i need help

You and Carlos met exactly 5 years ago, and you decided to set your wedding date on your 5th year anniversary.

The best man, Lando, along with Carlos's sisters had graciously taken care of everything, and had organized the craziest party you had ever witnessed in your life.

Warnings: smut, softdom Carlos, fluff, daddy kink, marriage kink? Is that a thing?, mention of partying and alcohol induced debauchery.

series masterlist

The first thing you thought when you regained consciousness was ‘Why can't I move?’

Try as you might, your entire body felt like fucking lead.

The next thing your brain supplied was ‘It's too hot in here’ which wasn't particularly helpful, but important to note none the less.

And then finally, ‘Oh my god I got married yesterday!’

Despite your body not at all responding to your brain, you could hear the not so soft snoring of your new husband next to you.

You could also feel his arm draped across your back, along with the itchy feeling of the material of your wedding dress wrapped and tangled in your legs.

It took you a few minutes to regain the feeling in your limbs and you finally opened your eyes.

Thank god you'd had the forethought to close the blinds so the room was still mostly in darkness, save for the warm glow of sunlight streaming through a few small cracks.

Your mind was foggy with the amount of alcohol that was still swirling around your bloodstream, but the heat was stifling and you needed out of the dress now.

You wriggled your fingers and got to work trying to undo it but it was no use with how you had to reach around your back, so you huffed in frustration.

You tried to roll over but failed miserably, stiff muscles protesting at the movement.

Carlos stirred next to you and you turned your head to look at him.

He wasn't in a much better state than you, groaning at the stiffness of his own body as he also tried and failed to roll over.

“Carlos” you tried to say but it came out slurred.

Your mouth was dry and still vaguely tasted of whatever strong stuff you'd probably chugged only a few hours prior.

“Whaah?” he slurred back.

What a fucking pair you two made.

You giggled at his cute face squished into the pillows.

“Carlos… I need you to help me get this dress off”

He chuckled and extended an arm across the space between you to start unclasping it expertly.

“Did I make you all hot and bothered cariño, or wre you thinking about someone else?” he smirked, and you had no idea what that was supposed to mean but his voice was deep and gravelly and you swore his pupils grew in size.

You always thought his voice was hot, but his morning voice was something else entirely, and you'd be lying if it didn't make you hot for an entirely different reason.

The dress came off completely and you groaned at the feeling of cool air on your skin.

“You know…” Carlos said, biting his lip with a mischievous look in his eyes. “We did not consume the marriage”

You burst into a fit of sleepy giggles.

“Consummate, Carlos. Not consume”

He chuckled and wriggled closer to you, so that your noses were touching.

“Same thing” he kissed you and you smiled into it, biting his lip playfully.

“You're my husband, now” you whispered when you parted for breath.

His hand came up to cup your throat gently, not pressing, just one of the little possessive habits Carlos had.

“Turn around” he growled.

You maneuvered your bodies so that he was spooning you, and he quickly undid the slacks he was still wearing from the night before.

Both of you must have fallen into bed exhausted after the wild night you'd spent dancing and downing drinks.

Now that you thought about it, you couldn't remember much after the 4th round of shots Lando made everyone take, but you were sure that was only the beginning of the madness that had probably occurred.

You couldn't dwell on it though, because Carlos was rubbing his tip along your folds and nudging your clit with every stroke.

You sighed dreamily in anticipation, waiting for him to push into you.

“Already so wet my love, you ready to take your husband's cock for the first time?”

He pushed the tip in and you gasped, it was so much already.

It obviously wasn't the first time you'd had sex, but it still felt different now somehow.

He was thick, and when he finally bottomed out, you whined at the intense stretch.

He lifted your leg and hooked it over his hip, changing the angle drastically.

He wrapped a hand around your throat, deep voice rumbling in his chest that was pressed against your back.

“Are you going to be a good girl and take my cock?” he purred.

“Yes” you whined.

“Yes, what?” he asked, cockiness dripping from his voice.

“Yes, daddy”

His hand tightened around your throat and he growled.

“Good girl”

And with that he slammed into you, knocking the air out of you as your cunt clenched around him almost painfully tight.

He grunted and rolled over you so that his weight was pressing you into the mattress.

“Relax, mi amor. You're such a good girl, always taking me so well.”

You whimpered, the fuzziness in your head was only getting worse as his fat cock split you open and you couldn't do anything but lay there helplessly and take it.

Soon the slight pain turned Into pleasure and the noises spilling from your lips sent Carlos into a frenzy, hips slapping against yours relentlessly.

You felt your orgasm creep up on you slowly as he panted and growled into your ear, and every time your walls fluttered around him he let out a punched out groan and his rhythm faltered, taking instead to long hard strokes that grinded into the deepest parts of you.

You were right on the edge, dangling over the precipice when Carlos spoke softly.

“Come for me, my wife”

You tightened around him as you came hard. Your high was as much mental as it was physical. You were Carlos' wife, you realised, the fantasy had finally become a reality. The two of you had never been so close, bodies intertwined as his hand came up to hold yours, both of your gold bands glinting in the sunlight.

Carlos bit into the flesh of your shoulder as he reached his own high, filling you up with his cum and claiming you as his own as his hips bucked involuntarily.

As you both came down, neither of you was able to move, feeling the exhaustion and the ache overtaking your bodies once again.

What on earth had you done last night? You couldn’t remember anything past 1 -ish. You'd have to wait until the photographer released her photo albums.

Carlos chuckled suddenly, making your body rock with the movement, and you asked him what was so funny.

“Nothing, I'm just remembering last night and why I had to drag you to bed” he teased, but you had no idea what he was talking about.

You said as much and his chuckles turned into full on wheezing.

“You… you don't remember what you did on top of the bar? Oh my god I cannot wait for the photos”

You sobered up remarkably quickly at that.

“What the fuck did I do Carlos?”

He snorted and dug his face into your neck and mumbled.

“You were so drunk… you got Charles and George up on the bar with you and started stripping for them. Like… grinding on them and unbuttoning their shirts and putting your hands on their-“

“Oh my god” you whimpered.

Forget waiting for the photos, you needed to prepare the boys' PR teams for the absolute shitstorm that was about to hit the Formula 1 world…

[crushmeeren]

Bakugou/Fem Reader/Kirishima

☠ Master List Link

Warnings; some mild descriptions of fighting/being in pain, brief mentions of blood, cursing, praise/reader is called a good girl, oral sex, mating press

☠ Everyone involved is 18+/aged up

It’s boiling.

Fucking sweltering.

Your eyes snap open, the stifling heat stirring you into a reluctant form of consciousness. As you glance down you’re met with a face full of damp red hair that could only belong to your boyfriend Eijirou.

Who apparently has taken it upon himself to use your shoulder as a pillow.

The man is a goddamn furnace.

Of course, you’re privy as to why he’s so feverish. It’s the same burning itch that lurks just below the surface of your own skin. This past week you’ve been counting down the days until the full moon — and there’s only one left.

Plus, it’s only Eijirou’s third time dealing with his shift, so his control over his body is shaky at best. Katsuki being the pack leader, has much more experience and insight dealing with the shift than you, which is why you’ve all made sure he’ll be home tomorrow night to ensure it goes smoothly.

Groaning, you unstick yourself from the entirely too sweaty body clinging to you, nose scrunching in discomfort as you unwind the hefty weight of Eijirou’s arm from your waist and untangle your legs.

You shove at Eijirou’s shoulder, mumbling for him to get his heavy ass off, but man doesn’t stir. He softly sighs and turns over to face the wall. Your limbs are sluggish with sleep as you push up onto your elbows, then up until you’re sitting on your butt. You kick off the suffocating covers and lean backwards onto the headboard in hopes for better airflow to cool off.

It would be unbelievably helpful to have Todoroki’s quirk right now.

You decide to study the room to distract yourself, admiring the way the moonlight has bled in. It playfully illuminates certain shapes as you bask in the peaceful stillness of the night. It’s a good thing the darkness doesn’t hinder you either way, seeing as your eyesight is just as sharp in the night.

What with your…..condition.

Using the back of your hand to wipe the sweat off of your forehead your thoughts trail to Katsuki, curious as to how his patrol is fairing. You lean over and tap the screen of your phone where it rests on your side table. The light from the screen is on the edge of blinding, making you wince and partially shield your eyes.

Why the fuck do I keep it so bright?

You fumble to put it in dark mode, reading the last vague and aggressive message Katsuki sent.

Katsuki 🧡

“I’d rather chew off my own motherfucking arm than be on patrol with icy hot right now.”

A startled bark of laughter pushes past your lips. Eijirou shifts restlessly behind you, but you pay him no mind. He tosses and turns frequently in his sleep this close to shifting.

You read over the text again, knowing Katsuki doesn’t mean that. He and Todoroki are fairly decent friends these days, much to Katsuki vehement denial. It takes not time at all for you type out a reply.

After setting your phone down and scooting underneath the blankets, you promptly flop onto your back in an attempt to get comfortable. You debate whether or not to cuddle up to Eijirou, but decide against it. Waking up drenched in sweat does not appeal to you.

As you start to drift off, the rhythmic lull of crickets outside your window helps your mind quiet once again. Your lids start drooping as your breathing begins to even out.

Crack.

You blink a few times in rapid succession, instantly on guard. You stay completely still, ears twitching and listening for the familiar sound.

Crack.

A blistering chill rushes through your blood as you recognize the unwanted tell tale sound of bones breaking.

Crack. Snap!

Your pulse jackrabbits so violently your heart may bruise your rib cage.

Please for the love of God don’t let this be what I think it is. The full moon isn’t until tomorrow night!

Eijirou suddenly cries out. A keening, wounded noise that’s wrenched from the pits of his chest.

Before you can register it, you’re sitting up straight, spine stiffening as you turn and watch Eijirou with mounting horror.

It’s not unlike witnessing twin snakes slithering, shifting urgently as Eijirou’s own spine breaks and rearranges for a body that’s far less human.

“Ei,” you whisper frantically, by his side in an instant. Your chest squeezes, adrenaline forcing the hair on your arms to stand on end. You shake his shoulder roughly, brushing the hair that’s sticking to his forehead away with your free hand. “Eijirou.”

He whines a jumbled version of your name before going stock still and you freeze alongside him, hyper aware of your shuddering exhales. A sickening dread settles over you, stomach dropping as you listen to Eijirou’s newly forming claws rip and shred the sheet next to him.

A low rumble starts up in his chest, slowly clawing its way up to emanate from his throat. Your stomach knots up realizing it’s too late for you to help him keep even a sliver of coherence through this.

Your fingers unwillingly twitch where they’re tangled in Eijirou’s hair. His growl intensifies, a stiff warning embedded in it. Your hands shake as you carefully shift your gaze down to his side profile, catching the untamed fury twisting his features.

It’s abhorrent and unnatural the way it replaces his normal cheerfulness.

The sudden fierce instinctive urge to fight Eijirou knocks around inside your mind so roughly you get lightheaded. Eijirou’s already side eyeing you menacingly, his iris glowing a pale yellow rather than the cherry red it usually is.

There’s a few seconds of silence, tension suffocating as you weigh your only two options.

Fight or flight?

With no hesitation, you lunge towards the side table closest to you and barely manage to grab your phone as you start launching to your feet to get away.

Eijirou’s claws sink in brutally, taking a decent chunk from your outer thigh as you skirt out of his deadly range. The explosive searing sensation of your flesh ripping wrenches all the air from your lungs, crimson spraying all over the otherwise pristine sheets as you stagger upright to your feet.

You whip around with a snarl that bounces off your bedroom walls, fury making your entire body flash white hot. The instinctual pulse to return the favor and give Eijirou a nasty scar is all consuming and you know your own eyes are flashing yellow.

Eijirou leaps towards you without missing a beat and you all but sprint through the door, slamming it shut and twisting the lock right as the redhead rams into it.

It locks from the outside for a reason.

You stumble forward, struggling to ignore the borderline unbearable pain lancing through your leg and place a hand on the couch to steady yourself. Your mind races, warm liquid trailing from your wound down your leg and pooling between your toes. You want to gag.

You can’t fucking think straight.

You squeeze your eyes shut as you take a singular fortifying breath as you clench your phone in a fist. The sides start to give and it reminds you not to obliterate the thing, as well as why you snagged it in the first place — to text Katsuki so you have a chance in hell of coming out this night alive.

With trembling hands you text the blonde a short yet urgent message.

Eijirou is shifting. 911. Hurry.

A deafening bang makes you jump a foot into the air, nails automatically sharpening into points. You chance a peak at the door, fear prickling at the base of your skull as the behemoth on the other side splinters it down the middle.

You briefly recall when Eijirou turned 21, shifting for the first time. It was only a mere three months ago. He was the last one out of the three of you to do so, but he wasn’t as violent as he is now.

It was messy and there were a lot of tears, but you’d trade this scenario for that one in a heartbeat. Shifting is always erratic in the beginning, but you were sure Eijirou would be the more laid back type.

Apparently not.

You shake your head to clear the unhelpful memories when Eijirou’s frustrated howl cuts through them. You glance at the front door with a scowl deciding you can’t very well go outside and take a half shifted, out of control werewolf into the neighborhood.

You’re not even wearing any damn pants.

You veto the forest as an option as well. Mainly because Katsuki will inevitably find you and Eijirou torn to pieces before the sun rises.

Steeling your resolve, you submit to the fact that you’ll have to put up as much of a fight against Eijirou as you’re able to until Katsuki saves you.

The deep gashes in your thigh scream in protest when you shuffle behind the coffee table, placing the couch and it between you and the door. You preemptively mourn the loss of your phone and toss it aside, bracing yourself in a defensive stance.

Bam! Bam! Bam!

Any second now.

The door is on its last legs.

One more heave and it splits entirely, debris flying in all directions. Eijirou forces his body through the opening, face distorted, half shifted with claws and fangs to match.

He snarls furiously when his gaze lands on your defensive form. You return the sentiment, making him aware you’re challenging him.

The icy sensation of fear continues to rush through your limbs, mixing dangerously with a barely suppressed fury that you’re unable to ignore.

You curse any and everything known to mankind and pray you’re able to keep him contained until Katsuki arrives. You bite the bullet and take a running start towards Eijirou, sidestepping the coffee table. You’re hell bent on getting the first punch in.

His reflexes mirror yours.

He uses the backrest of the couch to jump and propel himself at you like a shot and the collision is excruciating. One of your ribs has cracked from the force — you’re sure of it.

Eijirou’s got enough weight on you that the impact sends you both careening backwards, slamming onto the coffee table before rolling off with a thump as you connect with the ground. Eijirou crushes you when you land and you shove a palm into his cheek and wrench his head to the side.

You desperately sink your teeth into the muscle where Eijirou’s neck meets his shoulder, hoping the pain will allow him to snap out of it. He wails, the sound distorted from mutating vocal chords and thrashes in your grip. You tear yourself away and shred his flesh in the process.

The metallic scent chokes you. There’s blood splattered everywhere, and your brain is starting to get fuzzy a long the edges as you lose yourself to the wolf.

Somehow, you’re able to tuck your feet under Eijirou’s stomach, pressing into the firm muscle there and sending him flying. You scramble to your feet, crouching low. Your upper lip raises to bare your teeth, aiming a violent snarl at Eijirou and the red head is on his hands and knees in an instant.

You’re royally pissed — and simultaneously terrified.

You don’t want to endure this atrocious situation any longer than absolutely necessary. So, you suck much needed air back into your lung, chest heaving and eyes fluttering shut before refocusing on Eijirou with intensity.

Like a mantra, you repeat to yourself just survive until Katsuki is here. Just survive until Katsuki is here.

You and Eijirou once again morph into a mess of blood and punches and viscious bites, hanging onto your consciousness by a thread.

✃ ✃ ✃ ✃ ✃ ✃

Your head pounds. It wickedly throbs in time with your heartbeat, and your brain seems to stick to the insides of your skull.The wind whistles softly around you, tickling your skin and you realize you’re outside. Naked.

Peeling your eyes open, the cloudless blue sky burns as it peaks through the tree tops. You blink a few times to clear your blurry vision, shifting slightly on your back.

You’re positive you must’ve been run over by a truck. The all over bone deep ache is proof by itself.

Sighing, you concede to the soreness that begs you to keep lounging on the ground. Your joints creak when you bend your elbow, you brush over the close to healed claw marks on your thigh. The wound smarts, a searing heat flaring down your leg.

Fuck Eijirou, you really did a number on me.

You go limp, melting into the soft grass and damp top layer of soil for a bit longer. Bits and pieces of your memory spring to the forefront as you contemplate the utter bullshit you had to deal with the night before.

Katsuki appearing like a bat out of hell when he burst through the door and rescued you from certain doom. Eijirou completing his shift and settling into the form of a beautiful russet colored wolf. Katsuki’s carmine eyes aglow as he and Eijirou duked it out — until he was able to corral the other down into the basement.

Katsuki had locked the door with finality, and you knew you wouldn’t see either of them for hours.

You remember shivering with rage, bloody and damn near beaten to a pulp, pulling splinters from way too many sensitive areas. You had taken off into the woods right after, bearing the excruciating shift and running for miles as the wolf.

Now, here you are.

Naked and internally debating with yourself to get the hell up and make the horrendous trek back to your home. Honestly, you don’t want to see either of them right now. Eijirou will be distraught with guilt and it’s just —

You’re still irate about the entire ordeal.

You curse aloud, pushing to your feet at a snails pace, gently stretching and taking note of the new bruises you’re sporting.

There’s a lot of dried blood.

A lot.

✃ ✃ ✃ ✃ ✃ ✃

Once you make it back into your living room, you’re not at all shocked to see the mess from the night before had miraculously disappeared.

The pathetic remains of the bedroom door have been taken away. All the blood has been cleaned.

At least your coffee table survived the battle.

You sigh in relief. Thank God for Katsuki, he would never dream of leaving a crime scene behind. You tentatively sniff the air, the familiar scents of your partners have gone stale. They must not have wanted to linger, opting to give you some space.

You’re grateful, as it allows you time to shower and sleep.

You scrub your skin under the spray of hot water, collecting your thoughts as you comb the birds nest that has become your hair. You wince each time you press too hard on a bruise or soap stings your wounds.

Hopefully you’ll be mostly healed by the time you wake up.

A soft warmth blooms in your chest when you reach your bed. Eijirou has left you one of his T-shirts to wear and Katsuki’s favorite blanket is tangled in with the others. And one of them had found your missing phone, placing it on the charger and letting it rest on the side table.

You’re a zombie slipping into Eijirou’s too large shirt. The thinning, worn, and soft material brushes your thighs. When you lay down, you bring the collar of Eijirou’s shirt to your nose, inhaling deeply and letting the scent of fresh rainfall wash over you.

You pull Katsuki’s blanket up over your shoulders. The sweet smell of orange and cinnamon fills your senses, relaxing you entirely.

You’re out like a light before you know it.

✃ ✃ ✃ ✃ ✃ ✃

They come home late into the afternoon. Obnoxiously loud and cheerful — at least on Eijirou’s part.

Your stomach clenches as their voices grow closer.

You’ve been resting as much as possible, cuddled up and barely paying attention to the movie flickering across the screen.

You’d taken the past few hours to reflect. As you cooled off you knew it wasn’t really Eijirou’s fault, that he was just as petrified as you had been.

It’s not as if you’d never gone off the deep end in the beginning, and Eijirou was there for you. With no hesitation.

You made up your mind that reconciling with Eijirou was your first priority when they returned. Eijirou passes through the makeshift curtain door first, eyes growing comically large and footsteps halting when he spots you.

The short silence is unpleasant, and Eijirou shifts his weight nervously from foot to foot, unsure of what he should do next. You offer him an awkward, tight lipped smile, along with a small wave and his tense composure disintegrates.

Within the second he’s making haste to crawl up on the bed and get to you. All the built up frustration bubbles to the surface, stinging the backs of your eyes as you fist the blanket.

“Baby,” Eijirou breathes, voice cracking as you sit up and slip your arms around his neck when he reaches you. He tugs you close, clinging to your waist with one arm and cradling the base of your skull with his free hand to keep you in place.

You swallow a lump, inhaling against the skin of his throat deeply as he manages to make you feel safe and relieved.

“I’m so sorry baby, I’m so fucking sorry,” he croaks. You’re concerned he may start crying.

You nod jerkily, gripping him tighter. You hate the way his voice shakes as he apologizes. This wasn’t his fault and you’re determined to make sure he knows that.

“It’s okay Ei. I know baby, I know. This isn’t on you, okay?” You reassure him, voice watery with emotion. Eijirou chokes out an acknowledgement, sniffling.

Katsuki then takes a seat on the bed behind you, rubbing a warm palm back and forth between your shoulder blades in comfort. He places a soft kiss to the back of your neck.

The three of you sit there and hash out the night before, spending a good half hour at least, talking through everything. Brainstorming ways to prevent this from occurring again.

The conversation eventually trails off into a comfortable silence before Katsuki opens his mouth.

“You take off into the woods last night?” Katsuki asks somberly.

“Yeah.” Your response gets muffled by Eijirou’s shirt and Katsuki snorts.

“Well, you sure as hell look like it,” he jokes, trying to lighten the mood. It works.

You whip your head around to glare daggers at Katsuki but he’s giving you a teasing smile, nudging you playfully. You punch his stomach halfheartedly, unable to stop your lips from turning upwards.

“Whatever, dickpunch.”

Eijirou laughs, causing Katsuki to roll his eyes and chuckle at your childish insult. You study Eijirou rubbing his cheek as you recline into Katsuki’s chest, his soothing warmth seeping through both your shirts.

“So are you really okay?” Eijirou prods, scratching the side of his nose and looking away with a frown.

“I’m fine Ei,” you murmur tenderly. You stretch your leg out, showing him the side of your thigh where the marks have mostly faded. “See? It’s just a scar now, which will go away soon.” You poke his ribs with your toes.

Eijirou’s expression spells relief as he brushes the pads of his fingertips feather light over the raised pinkish skin. You shiver from the ticklish sensation, a flash of arousal burning your lower belly. Eijirou’s eyes are warm when they meet yours, lids drooping a bit when he notices your shiver.

The blonde must have picked up on the new charge in the atmosphere, because Katsuki leans in close to whisper something sultry in your ear, making you jolt.

“What do you think baby?” Katsuki hums, securing an arm around your waist. “Eijirou’s been so fucking bad, we should punish him. Don’t you think?” He suggests enticingly, acting as the devil on your shoulder.

You glance back at the redhead, who’s gone slack jawed, cheeks flushing bubblegum pink. Your eyebrow twitches as you pretend to mull it over. You trail your eyes up and down Eijirou’s figure lazily and he fidgets in place, fingers curling into the hem of his shorts.

You think it’s the perfect way to get things back to normal. You tilt your head, making heated eye contact with Katsuki. A coy grin lights up your face.

“What did you have in mind?”

The mischievous glint in Katsuki’s eye is answer enough.

✃ ✃ ✃ ✃ ✃ ✃

“Fuck! Katsuki, oh god,” you gasp, breath hitching in your throat.

Katsuki’s eagerly pushing his thick cock into your pussy, spitting out a few curses as he does so.

The stretch is delicious, and you squeeze his forearms mercilessly. Your nails create indentations as he teasingly pulls back until just the head remains, rolling his hips and filling you to the brim with one fluid motion.

Your spine arches, skull digging into the mattress below as Katsuki starts thrusting at a leisurely pace, thumb coming up to work slow circles into your clit.

At this angle, you have an upside down view of Eijirou sitting behind you, reclining halfway up against the headboard. Katsuki took it upon himself to spread you out flat on your back between the redhead’s thighs.

He taunted Eijirou with an arrogant smirk, meanly instructing him he isn’t allowed to cum until you and Katsuki do. Katsuki demands Eijirou only touch you if you initiate it first, and you agreed.

So for now, Eijirou’s pouting, settling on wrapping one hand around the base of his cock, stroking slowly as he leers at the scene in front of him. He tried to avoid splitting his lip with razor sharp teeth.

You’re able to meet his hungry gaze briefly, before fingers are gripping your chin and yanking you from the gorgeous view.

“Don’t fucking look at Ei. He’s in trouble, remember?” Katsuki huffs, a bead of sweat trailing from his temple down to his jaw. “Keep those eyes on me,” Katsuki says firmly, voice raspy and low.

You nod stiffly, whimpering when he releases you and pats your cheek just this side of too rough.

“You follow orders so well, what a good girl,” Katsuki praises, leaning back and sitting on his calves.

It’s no surprise his sweet words have your head filled with cotton. You lick your chapped bottom lip as you’re blessed with the view of Katsuki’s lower stomach flexing and his hips tensing as he continues to thrust at a perfect pace.

The blonde shoots Eijirou a nasty grin, making absolutely sure Eijirou can watch everything. Like the way the inner lips of your pussy stretch with Katsuki’s cock every time he thrusts backwards. Or the way you can tell his cock is shiny with your slick each time he pulls out.

Katsuki grips the bottoms of your thighs, effortlessly pushing them towards your chest and bending you in half. You cry out, eyes going wide when Katsuki suddenly nails your sweet spot. The pleasure blisters through your limbs, goosebumps littering your arms.

Blindly, you reach backwards, searching for Eijirou’s hands. The redhead lets out a breathy moan, quickly lacing your fingers together and resting your conjoined hands on his thighs.

“You can only fucking touch her hands Ei. Don’t push it,” Katsuki warns with a surprisingly steady, yet strained voice. Ya know, considering he’s fucking you like he’s trying to make you scream yourself hoarse.

“Yes Katsuki,” Eijirou replies obediently, throat clicking audibly when he swallows.

Katsuki presses closer, pupils dilated and jaw hanging open as he brings you closer to that addictive high. His eyebrows pinch together as he focuses on you.

Shocks of pleasure race up your spine each time he pushes his cock back inside you, the sound of your skin smacking together burning your ears. A coil starts to wind up behind your belly button impossibly tight, pussy clenching around him rhythmically.

You hold Eijirou’s hands in a death grip.

“Kat, I — fuck! I’m gonna cum,” you manage to spit out between gritted teeth, back threatening to lift off the mattress.

“Yeah?” Katsuki coos teasingly. “Fucking cum for me then.”

And you do. Muscles going taught, tension snapping as warmth gushes through you, toes curling. You can’t make out what Eijirou’s mumbling behind you, focused on the way Katsuki’s gasping your name.

The blonde lets out a breathy moan, pulling out and stroking his cock twice before he cums, covering your stomach in sticky white ribbons.

You go lax, unmoving as your legs hit the mattress. You desperately try to catch your breath as Eijirou let’s go of your hands.

“Fuck, please let me cum Katsuki! This isn’t fair!” Eijirou whines, one of his knees knocking you in the shoulder as he shifts his weight around.

You can’t see him but you know he’s pouting.

“Alright Eijirou, you can cum,” Katsuki says nonchalantly. He sits back on his calves, flushed chest heaving.

You flip over onto your belly just as Eijirou takes a hold of himself. He strokes his cock a few times, squirming with relief and you make the choice to help him out.

Eijirou’s close to peaking when you close the distance between you. You duck your head, wrapping your lips around one of his balls and suck it softly into your mouth, flicking it with your tongue. You roll the other one between your fingers.

Eijirou yelps, thighs jumping as he cums instantly, making a mess of his stomach as his breath stutters in his chest. He tilts his head back with a high pitched moan.

Katsuki makes an approving sound from somewhere behind you as you keep mouthing at Eijirou, only backing off when the redhead pushes at your forehead when he gets too sensitive.

Eijirou sinks down the headboard, blushing brightly and panting. You pillow your cheek on his thigh, eyes fluttering shut with a sigh.

Eventually, Katsuki kicks both your asses into gear, getting you off the bed and shuffled into the shower to clean yourselves off. You change the sheets because they’re “fucking gross”, — as Katsuki puts it.

As you’re getting dressed again, Eijirou comes up behind you, slipping his arms around your waist in a sweet hug.

“Everything fucking sorted now?” Katsuki asks with a roll of his eyes, arms crossed over his chest as he leans his hip on the doorframe. He eyes the embrace you’re locked in and raises an eyebrow.

“Course! Everything’s peachy,” Eijirou replies happily, nuzzling the back of your head as a low rumble starts up in his chest. You snicker, patting one of the arms holding you.

“Good, because I don’t feel like getting my ass handed to me again,” you say playfully. Eijirou laughs brightly and Katsuki snorts.

“Don’t worry baby, I’m locking his dumbass in the basement tonight.”

[ssahotchnerr]

imagine it being a saturday morning and you're laid in bed trying to catch up on sleep when all of a sudden you wake up because of course its jack and ellie poking you awake. you're groggy and aaron isnt there because he's making them breakfast, as he loves to do, and you can only mumble grumpily about how dont want breakfast, you just want your husband to come back to bed. and so the kids scurry into the kitchen to drag him back and he pulls you into his warm embrace. as you rest your head on his soft tummy and drift in and out of consciousness, you're all piled into the bed, discussing weekend plans and just being a family ❤

(My writing could NEVER be as beautiful or expressive as yours but i hope ive conveyed the concept because we all deserve to feel the warmth these thoughts instill in my heart)

AWWW that is adorable 🥹 the literal dream. fem!reader

muchhh too early, jack and ellie are running into your room, bouncing onto aaron and waking him up first (to be fair, he was already awake, he had heard them coming from down the hall LOL), telling him good morning, telling him what they dreamt about, asking him to c'mon and get up!!!!

you stir at the noise (they're loud), but quickly fall back to sleep - you haven't been sleeping well, have been getting up at the crack of dawn nearly every day, you even fell asleep last night way earlier than usual. aaron knows how exhausted you've been 🥺 so before they can pounce onto you next, he's taking them out (aaron literally caught ellie midway LOL). hehe he's carrying her out sideways as she protests, reaching back towards you, with jack at his heels.

and so aaron starts breakfast <3 as he cooks, they're both crowding around him; jack keeps asking if he can help, so soon enough he's perched on a chair next to aaron so he can easily reach 🫶🏻 ellie isn't as helpful; she brings her toys into the kitchen, which aaron continuously steps on as he navigates around 😭 as she's on the floor and leaves them scattered. hehe he keeps asking her if she's going to play in here, "please play at the table" 😭

and once all is ready, aaron asks them to ask you if you want breakfast, with the instructions of doing so gently, "mom's very tired" 🥺 jack and ellie run back into your bedroom, softly poking you awake. they're close, you can feel their breaths on your face while your eyes remain closed, and you sleepily mumble how you're not hungry, you just want aaron 🥺

so back into the kitchen they go, ellie's pulling on aaron's hand with allll the strength she can muster, attempting to drag him out, telling him that "mommy needs you right right right now🥺🥺🥺"

when aaron slides back into bed 🥺🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻 you subconsciously adjust yourself so your head's on his middle, nestling into him and aaron's playing with your hair as you doze, running his fingers through your hair, rubbing your scalp, pressing kisses to the top of your head <3333 you're just so comfy and he's so warm and you could easily stay right there forever. and so could he 🥰

and meanwhile, jack and ellie are sitting on the carpet eating their pancakes. some show is on the tv, they're quietly eating and watching while you and aaron are snuggled up together <3 and once they're done, they pile into bed with you both; you're more awake now - pressing kisses to jack's head, tickling ellie to get her to giggle, and talking about the day ahead 🥹

for example, jack states how he wants to go to the park, ellie chimes in with agreement - but aaron mentions how there's errands to run first, you mention how they both need to clean their rooms (which cause the kiddos to groan LOL), but you lift their spirits by saying you're ending the night at grandpa dave's!!!!!! for a yummy team family dinner <3

and once all is discussed, aaron takes them out again: to give you the time to get up officially (he encourages you to spend at least ten more minutes in bed🥹) and to ready for the day with no interruptions. jack's at the age where he can do so independantly, so aaron gets ellie dressed, and even puts her hair in little pigtails 😭😭 he also cleans up breakfast - this is something he insists on doing whenever he's home 🫵🏻 since it falls on you whenever he's away <3

and once you're done, you keep the kiddos busy as he does the same (some days though, aaron will very quickly join you in the shower while jack and ellie are preoccupied 🤭)

and then your saturday begins 🥰 the first order of business - getting their rooms all tidied up

(and thank you my sweet i'm sobbing!!! 🥹 you conveyed this adorable scene beautifully💓😭 i'm wholeheartedly obsessed this will be on my mind forever)

[genshinluvr]

The Fallen Star

Pairings: Various Honkai Star Rail Men x Isekai'd!Reader

Summary: You wake up in a void and see someone towering over you. He's breathtaking and covers the sun and sky. One minute you are talking to him, but then you gain consciousness. You wake up to a silver-haired man giving you (failed) CPR, only to find yourself on the Xianzhou Luofu with four other people who soon later become your (temporary?) traveling companions.

Note: Welcome to my first Honkai Star Rail fanfiction! This work is part of a brand new series called "Brightest Star in the Universe." Yes, it's Isekai like the Genshin fics. This is going to be cross-posted on AO3 as well (like all of my fics). To be honest, I didn't think I was going to be posting a Honkai Star Rail series so soon, but here I am. Since there are unreleased characters in this series (Luocha and Blade), their personalities are going to be a bit out of character. Then again, most HSR men's personalities are going to be out of character for a bit until I'm familiar with all of them. I don't post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and on AO3 (Aaliah_exo).

Warnings: Mentions of blood, but it's not bad

Word Count: 8.6k

The last thing you remembered before you woke up was a tall man towering over you, blocking the sun and sky from your view. He had silver-white hair and tanned skin, and his arms were in pieces, gold bleeding through the cracks over his body. He was beautiful, but his beauty intimidated you. The way he gazed at you, his eyebrows furrowed.

You felt yourself tremble beneath his gaze. Who was this man, and why was he bigger than the sun and sky? “Where am I? Who are you?” You whispered, your voice trembling with fear and confusion.

The world around you rumbled, making you wince and look around in panic. It took you a moment to realize that the huge man before you was chuckling. The man gazed at you with amusement before squatting down before you without taking his eyes off of you. Wait, does he even have legs?

“My name is not important, little one,” he replies. “You and I will meet again soon, but for now, it’s time for you to wake up from your slumber.”

You looked at him quizzically before scanning your surroundings. There was no one else but you and him. You and this man were in a vortex of some sort. The light is blocked out by his figure. You pinched yourself and winced in pain. What does he mean by ‘wake up from your slumber?’ Were you not awake the entire time?

You look at the man, only to see that he is still staring at you with an unreadable expression on his face. “What do you mean by that?” You whispered.

The silence in the void is deafening. Even if you whispered, your voice echoed in the abyss. You shifted in your spot before getting up from the ground. You dust your clothes off and gaze at the ginormous man before you, waiting for him to answer. The world around you slowly turns black, and the man nods at you before your vision turns black.

Just as you’re gaining consciousness, you hear voices around you. The voices are muffled, almost as if you’re underwater, and the voices of the people are above you and all over the place. Your ears are ringing, and your limbs feel like lead. You want to open your eyes, but your eyelids feel heavy.

“Are you sure they’re alive?” You hear a girl ask.

You hear a slow sigh coming from your left. “Of course, they’re alive, March. Can’t you see the steady rise and fall of their chest?” the male to your left asks.

“If they’re alive, then why are they not waking up? Aside from being unconscious, of course,” says March.

You feel someone tap your cheeks repeatedly. You groan and try to swat the hands away from your face, only for your hands to fall back to the ground. The girl named March lets out a loud gasp. 

The man beside you lets out a sigh. “March, can you go find Mr. Yang? In the meantime, Caelus and I will stand guard and make sure this person is okay,” he says.

‘March’ makes a disgruntled noise before stomping away. Something beneath you shifts, and you open your eyes to see a silver-haired man leaning down, his lips puckering. You open your mouth to say something, but the man covers your mouth with his. You let out a combination of a squeak and a gasp. The silver-haired man backs up and looks down at you with wide eyes, his fringe covering a part of his eyes. 

The silver-haired man blushes and clears his throat. “It’s good to see that you’re awake! Ahem… how are you feeling?” He asks.

You swallow the lump in your throat and slowly prop yourself up on your arms, rubbing the back of your neck. “I-I’m fine! Um… that’s an interesting way to wake someone up,” you said, giving the silver-haired man a sheepish smile. 

“I was trying to give you CPR, but that didn’t turn out how I thought it was going to,” replies the silver-haired man, his cheeks flushing red. He looks over at the black-haired man with a glare. The man with black hair looks away, his lips pressed into a thin line while his shoulders are shaking. The silver-haired man narrows his eyes at the black-haired man before punching him in the shoulders lightly, causing the man to grunt and let out a cough. Was he laughing? You sit up and look around, dazed and confused about how you ended up on a ship. Wait, is it a ship? Where are you?

You clear your throat and rub your throbbing temples. How did you end up on a ship? Or wherever you are. Gosh, you’re so out of it that you’re having a hard time figuring out where you’re at. You close your eyes, feeling a wave of nausea hit you like a train. One minute you were in a void with an extremely tall man that bleeds gold, and now you’re somewhere with two men at your side. One man is trying to stifle his laughter, while the other is almost as red as tomatoes. 

The red-faced silver-haired man clears his throat. “My name is Caelus, and the one that’s laughing beside us is Dan Heng,” Caelus says, nudging Dan Heng beside him with a small glare as if he’s telling Dan Heng to be quiet.

Dan Heng clears his throat before fixing his composure, crossing his arms over his chest. “How are you feeling? You were out cold when we found you on the Xianzhou Luofu,” says Dan Heng, staring at you emotionlessly.

“Other than a slight headache, I’m feeling okay. Confused, but okay nonetheless,” you reply. 

The two men stand up while you remain on the floor. You continue to take in your surroundings, eyes focusing on the stars hanging above you and the two men on this…. ship. You’re on a flagship… in space… traveling to who knows where. You look at the men behind you, pointing at your surroundings.

You clear your throat. “So, I was unconscious on the Xianzhou Luofu? That’s how you two found me?” You ask, rubbing your eyes while remaining on the ground. “Huh. How did I end up here?”

Rapid footsteps approach you, Dan Heng, and Caelus. You look up to see a pink-haired girl running toward the three of you, with a brown-haired man following close behind. The pink-haired girl’s eyes light up when the two of you make eye contact. You get up from the ground, dusting off your clothes.

The girl and brown-haired man stop before you. “Oh, goodie! You’re awake this time! I was starting to get worried!” She says, propping her hands on her hips. “Mr. Yang, this is the unconscious person I was telling you about! Well, they’re not unconscious anymore, but we stumbled across them when we split up while trying to look for Kafka.”

The brown-haired man— or Mr. Yang— strokes his chin while analyzing you from head to toe. You’re definitely not from the Xianzhou Luofu, and you’re certainly not from Jarlio-VI. 

The man hums before crossing his arms over his chest. “Do you know how you ended up here?” asks Mr. Yang.

You shake your head. “I don’t know how I ended up here. One minute, I was in a void with a man that towered over me, and now I somehow ended up on a ship.” You reply. 

Now that you said it out loud, you wouldn’t believe yourself if you were someone else. Would these people believe you? The pink girl hums thoughtfully, tilting her head to the side while gazing at you curiously.

“I’m March 7th, by the way! But you can call me March! This man here is Welt Yang!” She gestures to the brown-haired man beside her. “I’m assuming those two have introduced themselves to you already?”

You nod. “They have! Apologies for not introducing myself earlier, but my name’s [Y/N].” You say, rubbing the back of your neck with a sheepish smile.

You look at your surroundings. While you’re on the Xianzhou Luofu, you’re not entirely sure where you, Dan Heng, Caelus, Mr. Yang (should you call him by his first name or by his last name?), and March are precisely on the ship. Looking at your surroundings, all you see are boxes— you’re assuming they’re cargo of some sort. The air is nice and chilly, causing goosebumps to appear on your arms.

“We have to meet with General Jing Yuan. There are some things we still need to discuss with him,” Mr. Yang says, pulling his phone out to look at the time.

March points at you. “What do we do with [Y/N]? Do we bring them along with us as well?” asks March, looking at Mr. Yang for answers.

Your eyes widen, and you shake your head, waving your hands in front of you. “Oh, no! You don’t have to bring me along with you guys! Plus, you mentioned meeting with a general…. That sounds important, and I don’t want to intrude. After all, I am an outsider and, uh, don’t fit in this situation,” you said.

The five of them were heading to meet with the General of the Xianzhou Luofu. Dan Heng, Caelus, and March ended up stumbling across your unconscious body on the Xianzhou Luofu in an area where there aren’t many people roaming around. You sort of threw them off while they were headed toward their destination. Surely you can’t just tag along with them now, can you?

March huffs and frowns at you. “Hey! You’re not the only one who’s an outsider! The four of us aren’t from the Xianzhou Luofu either!” March interjects, stepping toward you and linking her arm around yours. “Besides! I think you should tag along with us either way! We don’t want to leave you behind, especially when you’re not from the Xianzhou Luofu! You are now a Trailblazer like us!” 

Mr. Yang sighs and pushes his glasses up. “Let’s go. We have no time to lose. [Y/N], we’ll talk about this after meeting with General Jing Yuan,” says Mr. Yang, looking in your direction.

You nod and follow after the group, setting off to the location where General Jing Yuan told them to meet. 

Upon arriving at the destination, you have concluded that you like the Xianzhou Luofu! Not only is it beautiful and vast, with a nice view of the universe, but you find the citizens of the Xianzhou Luofu interesting, and you’re curious about everything, really. 

Now that you think about it, the ship and the people you’re tagging along with feel familiar. You know what this place is; you know it! It’s on the tip of your tongue, but dealing with sudden scenery changes and the brain fog is throwing you off.

The grand doors open, and the five of you step into the room. You look around, eyes wide with wonder and curiosity. Many people are walking in and out of the room, people gathering around in one spot while others are tending to their duties on the ship. Mr. Yang, March, Dan Heng, Caelus, and you approach the white-haired man sitting on a chair. He seems to be occupied with the game of chess. You can’t tell if his blond opponent looks frustrated or focused. His eyebrows furrowed, and his eyes focused on the chessboard before the two of them. Hearing footsteps approaching their direction, the blond boy and white-haired man look at your group.

The white-haired man stands up, looking at the blond boy and nodding. The blond boy gets up from his seat and walks off, looking at your group from the corner of his eyes as he passes the five of you.

“I hope the journey wasn’t too complicated. It’s good to see you all again,” says the white-haired man.

Mr. Yang nods. “General Jing Yuan, it’s nice to see you again. We’re here to discuss the matters you wanted to speak to us about regarding the situation….” Mr. Yang’s voice slowly becomes muffled as you continue to look at your surroundings.

There are holograms of the people, you assume, that work on the Xianzhou Luofu! Holograms! You have never seen a hologram before, and it looks so cool! What was this place called again? You recalled that they were supposed to meet up at the general’s office, but the location was changed. Was the office called the Seat of the Divine Foresight? Although, with the number of people going in and out of the room, it’s certainly not the general’s office. Where in the world are you exactly? Gosh, it’s like you have the name on the tip of your tongue, but it’s not coming out.

“Care to introduce me to your new friend?” General Jing Yuan’s voice pulls you out of your thoughts.

You blink and look up to see General Jing Yuan looking right at you. You freeze in your spot like a deer in headlights, blinking at the white-haired man owlishly. A soft smile appears on his face, a low rumbling coming from his chest. You couldn’t help but feel intimidated by his presence. Such power and authority exude from the man standing before the five of you. 

Your face heats up when more people look in your direction. You clear your throat and stand there awkwardly, not sure what to do. Sure, you could introduce yourself to General Jing Yuan, but you were hoping he didn’t notice a new face around the Xianzhou Luofu. You point at yourself dumbly, blinking cluelessly at the man approaching you. Oh gosh, he’s walking toward you. 

General Jing Yuan nods. “Yes, I was talking to you. I’ve never seen you around the Xianzhou Luofu, nor have I seen you with Welt Yang and his traveling companions,” says General Jing Yuan, now standing in front of you.

Dear gosh, this man is standing right in front of you. He’s not a hologram. He’s flesh and blood. If you reach out right now, you would be touching him with your hands. You give General Jing Yuan a shy smile, face hotter than ever.

You raise your hand in an awkward wave before introducing yourself. “Hi! I, uh, my name’s [Y/N]! It’s a pleasure to meet you, General Jing Yuan!” You squeak.

General Jing Yuan lets out a hearty laugh. “It’s nice to meet you, [Y/N]. Please, just call me Jing Yuan. No need to call me General— General is merely a temporary title,” says Jing Yuan, giving you a cat-like smile.

Jing Yuan grabs your hand gently and raises your hand to his face before pressing a kiss on your knuckles without breaking eye contact. Dear gosh, it’s like this man wants your face to feel hotter than it already is. 

“Since when is he a flirt?” You hear March mutter to Caelus, Dan Heng, and Mr. Yang. 

Jing Yuan releases your hand while you stand there awkwardly while tucking your hair behind your ear. You give Jing Yuan a flustered smile before looking away after clearing your throat. Dan Heng sighs while Mr. Yang steps up, grabbing Jing Yuan’s attention. You take a step back and stand between Dan Heng and Caelus, refusing to look at them after feeling intense stares at your head.

“That was something,” Caelus comments, crossing his arms over his chest.

Dan Heng hums in agreement. “It really is, isn’t it? Who knew that the General of the Xianzhou Luofu has such a charm,” Dan Heng comments.

You clear your throat again. “Maybe it’s how people greet on the Xianzhou Luofu!” You say.

March scrunches her nose and shakes her head. “They don’t do that on the Xianzhou Luofu. We’ve visited a couple of times, but not once were we greeted like how the General greeted you, [Y/N],” March teases, giving you a cheeky smile.

While Mr. Yang and Jing Yuan are conversing with each other about the situation, Dang Heng, Caelus, and March would interject here and there while the two are speaking. As usual, since you’re not part of the conversation, you would space out and look at your surroundings. It’s tempting to wander off, but you stay where you’re standing and listen to their conversation.

The doors to the room fly open, and enter a man with long, blond hair and a brown-haired girl with pigtails. The girl looks mildly miffed, while the blond man looks pleased with himself as he follows the girl into the room with a giant casket behind him. You look at the casket in horror and look at Caelus, Dan Heng, and March. The trio did not seem to be phased by the fact that the blond man was carrying around a casket like it was a backpack. 

The blond man notices you’re staring at him, and he smiles at you, keeping a firm grip on the casket behind him. “I see you notice the coffin behind me,” he comments.

You nod in response. “Yeah! It’s, uh, hard to overlook it,” you reply.

The brown-haired girl huffs and crosses her arms over her chest with a deep frown on her face. “It’s strange, isn’t it?” asks the girl, looking in your direction.

You blink at her with surprise. “Ah, strange?” You squeak. 

What was she talking about? The man carrying a large casket with him, or was there something else you’re missing? After all, she did enter the room with the blond man, looking visibly peeved.

The brown-haired girl drags out a sigh, propping her right hand on her hip. “For a foreign trader like himself to be carrying a casket around so casually,” she replies. “I didn’t think it was a casket until I asked him about it.”

The blond man clears his throat. “This coffin isn't mine, Sushang. I was merely entrusted to take the body back to the Xianzhou Luofu,” the man says casually. “My name’s Luocha. As Sushang said, I am a foreign trader. Currently, I was tasked to return this casket to the Xianzhou Luofu.” He gestures to the casket behind him.

You stare at the casket and then look at the blond man, who raises his eyebrows at you with an amused look. It seems like Luocha knows what you want to ask him. What is in the casket? More importantly, who is in the coffin, and why does he need to deliver it back to the Xianzhou Luofu?

Luocha crosses his arms over his chest. “It’s alright if you want to ask who’s in the coffin. I’ve had a few people ask me the same question while on my journey to the Xianzhou Luofu,” says Luocha, looking at Sushang from the corner of his eyes.

You give Luocha a sheepish smile and shake your head. “No, no! I wasn’t going to ask you that question! I was wondering how you can carry a coffin around for so long without getting tired of it. You would think there would be an easier way to transport a casket,” you say.

You did wonder who was in the coffin. I mean, like Luocha said, he has had a few people ask him who (or what) was in the large casket behind him. As much as you’re curious, you don’t think it would be appropriate to ask since it’s none of your business, and it would be rude to ask.

Sushang looks at you curiously, examining you from head to toe. “You don’t look like you’re from the Xianzhou Luofu. Are you Dan Heng’s newly added traveling companion?” asks Sushang.

You make an uncertain noise, giving Sushang and Luocha a ‘so-so’ gesture. “Kind of! I… I’m not sure if now is the right time to explain the situation,” you murmur, turning to look at your new traveling companions.

March, Dan Heng, and Caelus shrug their shoulders simultaneously. You sigh and turn to look at Luocha and Sushang with a fake smile. Now would be a good time to leave the Xianzhou Luofu, but even if you were to leave the ship, would they (your temporary traveling companions) be okay with you tagging along? 

Sushang looks at you curiously. “Oh? Why do you seem uncertain about being their new traveling companions?” Sushang asks.

You press your lips into a thin line and rock back and forth on the balls of your feet. Would this be a good time to tell them (Sushang, Luocha, and Jing Yuan) about your situation? Maybe they’ll know the answer to it! Hopefully, they know the answer! You go on to tell Sushang and Luocha your situation: how you wake up to Caelus giving you CPR, and you find yourself on the Xianzhou Luofu despite not being from the Xianzhou Luofu. 

Sushang hums and strokes her chin, squinting her eyes at you while chewing on the inside of her cheek. “Do you have memory loss by any chance?” Sushang asks.

Your gaze falls to the ground after hearing her question. Now that you think about it, the last thing you remembered before waking up was being in the void with a man towering over you. He’s so huge that he covered the sun and sky! Should you mention that to them too? You don’t know the man’s name. He told you his name isn’t important, but you know that’s not the case.

“I guess? I don’t really know how I ended up here, really. The last thing I remembered before waking up was being in a void with this tall person, but then I gained consciousness, and here I am!” You say, shrugging your shoulders. 

They all probably think you’re crazy after explaining to them the last thing you saw before waking up to Caelus giving you CPR. You weren’t lying about being in a void with an extremely tall person. Technically, he wasn’t tall— he was a giant. They all look at you like you have just grown a second head. 

Mr. Yang walks over to the group and nods at you, Dan Heng, March, and Caelus. “Alright, General Jing Yuan has given me some information on what we need to do. So far, there aren’t many things to check on the Xianzhou Luofu, but we do have to stop by Jarlio-VI per Caelus’ request,” says Mr. Yang.

March looks at Mr. Yang quizzically. “Why stop by Jarlio-VI? We have already completed what we needed to do on Jarlio-VI,” says March, crossing her arms over her chest.

Caelus hands his phone over to March. March grabs Caelus’ phone and skims through the messages on Caelus’ phone. March sighs and nods, handing Caelus back his phone before propping her hands on her hips.

“Well, it looks like we’ll be seeing some familiar faces again!” March announces.

You look at the group cluelessly, rubbing your arm. Does that mean you’ll have to go to Jarlio-VI with the group as well? I mean, there’s nowhere else for you to go, really. The best option is to tag along with the people that found you unconscious.

March nudges you and gestures to follow her and the three men. “Let’s go! I’ll introduce you to Pom-Pom and Himeko! You’ll love them and the Astral Express!” March grins, grabbing your wrist and pulling you along.

The five of you wave to Sushang, Jing Yuan, and Luocha goodbye before walking out of the room. You didn’t know where they were leading you, but you assumed it was to an area where the four of them were dropped off before they found you unconscious on the ground of the Xianzhou Luofu. 

Right when the five of you are about to reach your destination (or, that’s what you’re assuming because you’re not familiar with the Xianzhou Luofu, nor are you sure where they’re taking you), a figure swoops in out of nowhere and snatches you from March’s grasp.

Everyone stops in their tracks and turns to look at the person holding you hostage. Your back is pressing against the man’s chest, and you feel the man press his sword up against your neck. March, Caelus, and Mr. Yang glare at the man behind you while Dan Heng looks like he just witnessed someone massacre everyone in his village. You swallow your fear and slowly turn your head to see a man with long, dark hair and red eyes. His eyes are focusing on the people standing in front of the two of you.

“So this is the fallen star Kafka mentioned,” the man mutters, looking down at you.

You blink at the man behind you and look at the others cluelessly. “Who is this man, and what does he mean by that?” You ask.

The man behind you tightens his grip around you, his arm wrapping across your chest while continuing to press the sword against your neck. March glares at the man behind you and seethes with anger.

“Let them go, Blade! Don’t involve them in anything!” March shouts.

Dan Heng takes a step closer toward you and Blade, only for Blade to take a step back, bringing you with him. Blade glares at Dan Heng and the others, pressing the edge of the sword against your neck. You close your eyes and visibly wince when the blade nicked your neck, causing a trail of blood to slowly trickle down. Dan Heng and Caelus glare at Blade, getting ready to step forward, when Mr. Yang grabs onto both of the men’s shoulders, shaking his head. 

Blade smirks and chuckles. “I wouldn’t step any closer if I were you. If you want them to come out unscathed, then you will comply with my and Kafka’s orders,” said Blade.

You nudge the man behind you. “What do you mean when you mentioned fallen star? I’m not a fallen star,” you grumble, glaring at Blade from the corner of your eyes. “And for your information, I didn’t come out unscathed.” You gesture to your neck.

One minute you were in a void with an enormous man before you, then you woke up to Caelus giving you CPR on the Xianzhou Luofu, and now you’re being held hostage by a man named Blade on the Xianzhou Luofu. Can this get any worse?

Blade huffs and tightens his grip around you, not taking his eyes off the people standing before you and him. “Two hours before your arrival to the Xianzhou Luofu, Kafka reported a strange light flying across the galaxy. That light was presumed to be a fallen star, and the light led to the Xianzhou Luofu. In case none of you realized it, the fallen star is this one right here,” says Blade, gesturing to you.

You furrow your eyebrows after hearing Blade’s explanation. You have to be honest here; whatever Blade just said to you, Mr. Yang, Dan Heng, Caelus, and March, it sounds ridiculous. You? A fallen star? What does that even mean? You fell out from the sky and somehow ended up on the Xianzhou Luofu? Not only does it sound ridiculous, but it doesn’t seem probable because you didn’t have any markings on you aside from the cut on your neck from Blade’s sword.

You close your eyes and rest your head on Blade’s shoulders, catching him off guard. You turn your head slightly and peek at him. “And what do you and this Kafka person want from me exactly? You make it seem like I’m some rare gem from space, finally crashing and landing somewhere,” you comment.

Blade remains silent, staring down at you while you stare at him in return. It almost seems like he doesn’t have a plan for what to do with you. Other than holding you hostage in front of your (possibly) temporary traveling companions. You frown at Blade after a few minutes of him not responding to your question. You elbow Blade in the gut before pushing his arms off you with a huff, walking away from the man.

You and the others were surprised to see that Blade didn’t retaliate. He seems to be the type that gets set off easily. But since he didn’t slash at you or lash out at you for elbowing him in the stomach and pushing his arms off your person, it genuinely shocked the others. You rub and graze your fingers over the cut on your neck. 

You narrow your eyes at Blade and walk over to where the others are standing. March runs up to you to assess the open wound on your neck. March sighs in relief, looking over at Blade with a glare before pulling you to the side while Caelus, Dan Heng, and Mr. Yang deal with Blade to the side.

You watch Blade, Dan Heng, Caelus, and Mr. Yang stand before each other, not saying a word. Their weapons are drawn out, but no one has started anything. They all stand there, staring at each other in silence, while March struggles to pull a bandaid out from her pocket. March hands you the bandaid after successfully grabbing the bandaid. 

March turns to look at the four men with one hand on her hip while the other is on your shoulder. “Hey, are you guys just going to stand there and stare at each other all day, or are you guys going to fight it out?” demands March, glaring at the men.

Blade smirks and tightens his grip on his sword. “If that’s what you want, then a fight is what you shall receive,” says Blade.

Blade was about to lunge at the three men before him, but a woman with red wine-colored hair appeared out of nowhere, placing her hand on Blade’s shoulders. Blade stops in his tracks and looks over his shoulders at the woman. 

She gives him a smile and chuckles, looking in your direction. “It’s good to see you, little shooting star. I apologize that you had to meet us this way, but our destinies are intertwined no matter where you go and how far we are from each other,” says the woman.

Everyone stares at the woman in silence. Everyone but you seem tensed at her mere presence. She takes her hand off Blade’s shoulders before walking toward your and March’s direction. Caelus and Dan Heng block her way, holding their weapons out in front of them while glaring at the woman.

The woman frowns and looks at Caelus with a pout. Almost like she was mocking him. “Oh, Caelus. Do you not trust me after all we’ve been through?” she asks, crossing her arms over her chest.

March lets out a loud scoff. “Can you blame us for not trusting you after all that stuff you put us through, Kafka?!” March asks, glaring at the red wine-colored-haired woman.

‘Kafka?’ you mouthed to yourself, furrowing your eyebrows. The gorgeous woman is Kafka? Not only was she stunning, but the way she was looking at you was sending chills down your spine. There’s something about her you couldn’t put your fingers on. She seems powerful and the leader of this whole situation. Maybe the word ring-leader would suit her since Blade does follow her orders around like a dog. 

Kafka turns around and starts walking away. “Come on, Bladie. It seems like we’ll have to find another time to meet [Y/N] again. For now, let’s part our ways,” says Kafka.

You freeze in your spot and look at Kafka with wide eyes. How in the world does she know your name when you haven’t introduced yourself to Blade and Kafka? Kafka looks over her shoulders and smiles at you before disappearing from everyone’s sight. Blade huffs and puts his sword away, turning around and following after Kafka. 

March huffs. “Kafka and her dog are going to search for [Y/N] again. I don’t think it’s safe for them to be alone,” March states, looking at Mr. Yang, Dan Heng, and Caelus. “It’s best they remain on the Astral Express with us until further notice.”

You furrow your eyebrows and give March a questioning look. What does she mean by you remaining on the Astral Express until further notice? Until you find a home somewhere and can finally leave them alone? Where are you going to go? You’re on a ship that’s traversing through space, and now you’re going to be on a train that also travels through space. 

“Let’s return to the Astral Express, and then we can talk about it after stopping by Jarlio-VI,” says Mr. Yang.

The five of you continued your way to the area where Dan Heng, Caelus, March, and Mr. Yang were dropped off. You’re kind of excited to step foot on the Astral Express and Jarlio-VI. Mainly Jarlio-VI because of how March described it, along with the stories she told you when she, Caelus, and Dan Heng visited the frozen planet due to the eternal freeze.

A frozen planet sounds interesting because not many things can survive and thrive in such conditions. It makes you wonder if there were any wild animals that roam Jarlio-VI aside from humans and creatures March, Dan Heng, and Caelus passively mentioned. Speaking of creatures the trio mentioned, you’re hoping you won’t have to deal with it or get caught in the crossfire. 

Your stay on the Astral Express was short, and you met Pom-Pom and Himeko! They’re very welcoming, and Himeko is like an older sister, and perhaps a mother, figure to you despite you knowing her for less than a few hours. Despite your visitation of the Astral Express being short, you somehow managed to fall asleep while the train was headed to Jarlio-VI.

When you open your eyes, you find yourself in the void again. The very same void you were in before you woke up to Caelus giving you (failed) CPR. You look around, and there is the man towering over you. 

You frown at the (gorgeous) man and rub your eyes. “It seems like the only time I’ll see you again is through my dreams, huh? I’m starting to think you’re not real and that you’re a figment of my imagination,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest. 

The man chuckles and gazes at you with an amused look on his face. Damn, his smile is breathtaking, but it’s too bad he’s not real. Or at least that’s what you’re assuming. The man beckons you to come closer. You push yourself off the ground and walk toward him while scanning your surroundings. 

You weren’t just in a void, but there were tiny stars sparkling around you and the massive man before you. The man holds his hand out, placing them before you. You stare at his hands questionably before stepping on his hand, letting him lift you to his eye level.

“We will meet very soon, little one. Now is not a good time to meet,” he says.

You frown at the man, letting out a huff before crossing your arms over your chest like a petulant child. “No matter what you tell me, I’ll always assume you’re a figment of my imagination. At least tell me your name,” you murmur, looking at him from the corner of your eyes.

The man smiles at you and nods. “My name’s Nanook and I promise we will meet in person soon. For now, this is the only way I will be able to communicate with you--- through your dreams.” He caresses your hair with his index finger.

You stare at Nanook without saying a word, still not convinced that he’s real. Nanook sighs and gives you a small smile. From a distance, you hear someone call your name. You look away from Nanook and begin searching for the voice. Nanook sighs, putting you back on the ground and smiling at you almost sadly. You’re about to ask him what was wrong when the world around you slowly fades away.

“Wake up!”

Your eyelids snap open, and you sit up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. March sighs and collapses across from you while Caelus and Dan Heng stand to the side with unreadable expressions on their faces. 

March huffs and narrows her eyes at you. “Finally! I’ve been trying to wake you up for the past ten minutes!” March says.

You blink at March and look at Dan Heng and Caelus, who nods in response. How long have you been asleep? March was trying to wake you up for ten minutes, but it didn’t feel that long. You were with Nanook in your dreams for what felt like three minutes or less. Were you asleep for that long?

“We’re arriving at Jarlio-VI very soon. Gepard and Sampo will be meeting us at the Administrative District,” says Dan Heng.

Caelus and Dan Heng walk off, leaving you and March alone on the couch. Caelus nudges Dan Heng, looking at you from over his shoulders and then at the black-haired man worriedly. Dan Heng chews on the inside of his cheek, leaning against the wall while waiting for the Astral Express to reach its destination.

“You heard that, right? [Y/N] mumbling Nanook’s name in their sleep,” says Caelus.

Dan Heng nods. Before Dan Heng can reply, the Astral Express comes to a complete stop, and Pom-Pom announces the Astral Express’s arrival to Jarlio-VI from where they were standing. You and March get up from the couch and stretch your arms and legs. 

You rub the base of your neck and wince when you feel it strain. Great, now you have a crick in your neck from sleeping on the couch in the Astral Express for who knows how long. March loops her arms around yours, dragging you out of the Astral Express with Dan Heng and Caelus following behind. 

March looks over her shoulders, shouting, “Come on, Mr. Yang! We don’t have all day!” March continues to pull you along to the Administrative District with a wide smile on her face while you’re trying your best to keep up with the hyperactive girl. 

Himeko crosses her arms over her chest and taps on her chin. “You feel it too, right?” Himeko asks, looking over at the brown-haired man.

Mr. Yang raises his eyebrows at Himeko, waiting for her to clarify. Himeko chuckles, shaking her head, looking at the entrance of the Astral Express, where you, March, Dan Heng, and Caelus ran out. Technically, you were dragged out of the Astral Express by March.

“The sense of familiarity with [Y/N]. Almost like we know them despite never meeting them. This connection….” Himeko trails off, humming softly. Himeko chuckles and looks at Mr. Yang, gesturing for him to follow after you, March, Dan Heng, and Caelus.

Back to you and the trio, the three of you walk around the Administrative District searching for these Gepard and Sampo people. From what you have been told, Gepard is the little brother of Serval, and Sampo is some con artist the trio met in the underworld. You’re looking forward to meeting Gepard and Sampo! They sound like interesting people, especially Sampo.

“Fams! There you guys are!” You hear someone call from a distance.

The four of you turn in the direction of the voice to see an indigo-haired man and a blond man approaching your group. The indigo-haired man smiles widely and waves at the four of you. When you and the indigo-haired man make eye contact, his eyes seem to light up, and the smile on his face becomes wider before he sprints in your and the trio’s direction.

The green-eyed indigo-haired man and the blond man with blue eyes stop before your group, looking at you curiously. You can’t help but feel self-conscious under their gaze. Their clothes are interesting, but it looks nice on them. Wait, are you staring at them? You snap out of your thoughts and look away, trying to act like you weren’t staring at them. 

“Caelus, March, Dan Heng, care to introduce us to your new traveling companion?” asks the blond man, staring you down with those blue eyes of his.

March smiles widely and nods before happily introducing you to the two men before you. You smile at them politely and wave at them. The two men introduce themselves to you not long after, and you are glad their names are easy to remember because you’re not the best at remembering the names of the people you have just met.

“Not to come off as rude or anything, but you don’t seem to be from here,” Sampo says, looking at you curiously.

Gepard looks at Sampo from the corner of his eyes before shaking his head. “Sorry if what he said came off as rude. Sampo has no manners,” Gepard mutters, crossing his arms over his chest. 

You laugh and wave your hand in front of you. “No, no, it’s fine! Sampo asked a genuine question, and I’m sure there are other people that are curious as well,” you say, giving Sampo and Gepard a small smile. 

You and the others walk around the Administrative District while you tell Gepard and Sampo the situation. You woke up on the Xianzhou Luofu, unsure of how you ended up on the ship. Prior to gaining consciousness, you were in a void with Nanook. Of course, you didn’t tell Sampo and Gepard about you knowing Nanook’s name, only how he’s a tall figure that covered the sun and sky. 

While you tell the two men your situation, Mr. Yang ends up catching up to your group, and the seven of you stop near the theater. Sampo and Gepard didn’t make a comment on your sudden appearance on the Xianzhou Luofu, but they have tried asking you a few questions. 

“Everything is starting to feel familiar, but I can’t put my finger on it.” You murmur, scanning your surroundings.

Belobog is beautiful and cold, but there’s something unnerving about it. On the other hand, the Xianzhou Luofu doesn’t feel eerie or ominous. The others look at you curiously, wondering what you mean when you say everything is starting to feel familiar. 

Sampo, being the man that he is, slides in front of you and gives you a charming smile before flicking his bangs away from his eyes. “Pardon me saying this so suddenly, but I’m sensing you feel a connection between us?” asks Sampo, gesturing between you and him.

You blink at Sampo. “Yes,” you reply slowly. “I guess that’s a better way of putting it.” 

Sampo looks at you with wide eyes, his cheeks tinting pink. Sampo clears his throat and tucks an invisible strand of hair behind his ears. “Oh? So you do feel that connection between us!” Sampo grins.

Your head is beginning to hurt, and there’s a low ringing in your ears that’s gradually getting louder and louder. You tried to act normal and playfully scoffed at Sampo’s comment before walking to the nearest bench near the theater. When you walk off with March at your side, Gepard looks at Sampo while Dan Heng, Mr. Yang, and Caelus trade glances at each other.

Gepard hums, furrowing his eyebrows. “So, you feel that too?” Gepard mutters.

Sampo does a double take and looks at Gepard with wide eyes. “What do you mean by ‘too’? I was talking to [Y/N], not you!” says Sampo, huffing.

Dan Heng, Caelus, Mr. Yang, and Gepard stare at Sampo with blank expressions. Sampo blinks at them and laughs nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. Gepard sighs, trying to ignore the strange pull in his chest.

“You’re not the only one that feels that connection, you know?” Gepard hisses, glaring at Sampo.

Sampo’s eyes widen, and he holds his hands up in front of him, laughing. “Whoa, there, buddy. Listen, I don’t know what you’re trying to imply, but I don’t feel a connection with you! I feel a connection with [Y/N], but certainly not you! Plus, why would I, Sampo Koski, be with someone that constantly tries to put me in jail?” Sampo asks.

Caelus snorts and rolls his eyes. “That’s not what Gepard is implying, Sampo,” Caelus comments, pressing his lips into a thin line to prevent himself from laughing in Sampo’s face.

Sampo looks at Caelus quizzically, then at Dan Heng. Dan Heng raises an eyebrow at Sampo, crossing his arms over his chest. 

Dan Heng sighs before answering, “Gepard is implying that you’re not the only one that feels the connection with [Y/N]. Gepard feels the same connection with [Y/N] as well.”

Mr. Yang looks at Sampo and Gepard, surprised. He clears his throat to grab the four men’s attention before pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Himeko mentioned the same thing before I caught up with the rest of you. Himeko says she feels a sense of familiarity when she saw [Y/N], although I don’t think she feels the same as the rest of us,” Mr. Yang explains. 

Gepard’s eyebrows shoot to his hairline. “What do you mean by the rest of us? Do all of you feel the same way toward [Y/N]?” Gepard demands, chewing on his bottom lip.

Despite not getting a response from the four men in front of him, Gepard already knows the answer to his question. Every one of these men feels some kind of connection with you. Heck, even Himeko says she feels a sense of familiarity with you, according to Mr. Yang. A sense of familiarity is different from the tugging in their chests when they’re around you. The best way to describe it is a gravitational pull. It makes them want to be closer to you and be near you.

“Does anyone know they feel the same way?” Gepard asks, looking at you from the corner of his eyes. “I know they told Sampo they feel it as well, but what if they’re saying it to get Sampo off their back?” Gepard asks, propping one hand on his hip while stroking his chin.

The rest of the day went by in a blur to you. The last thing you remembered before losing consciousness was Himeko showing you where your temporary room is located on the Astral Express. Nanook communicated with you through your dreams twice, but this time, he didn’t make an appearance. You slept for a few hours, only to be woken up by someone knocking at the door.

You roll out of bed and stumble to the door, grabbing the doorknob and opening the door without a second thought. At first, you thought it was going to be March that was standing at the door, ready to show a photo book of her, Dan Heng, Mr. Yang, and Caelus trailblazing, but instead, it was Jing Yuan, Blade, and Luocha that’s standing at the door.

Just when you were feeling groggy, you’re now alert and surprised. You stare at the trio with wide eyes and peek over their shoulders. Why are they at the Astral Express? Shouldn’t they be at the Xianzhou Luofu? And as for Blade, you’re not entirely sure why he’s with Jing Yuan and Luocha at the Astral Express.

You give the three men a fake smile. “Jing Yuan, Luocha, and Blade! What a surprise! If you don’t mind me asking, what are you three doing here?” You ask, running your hands through your bedhead. 

Jing Yuan chuckles. “It’s good to see you too, [Y/N]. We came to check up on you to see if you were okay. Caelus informed us that you weren’t feeling well when you were on Jarlio-VI,” says Jing Yuan.

You stare at Jing Yuan like a fish out of water. “Oh! I’m fine, really! I didn’t think you would stop by to check up on me after hearing what happened,” you say, clearing your throat.

Luocha smiles and pats your head. “We were worried about your well-being! Of course, we would stop by to see if you’re okay! Are we not allowed to do that?” Luocha asks, batting his eyelashes at you.

You feel yourself becoming flustered under their gaze, and you look away, rubbing the back of your neck. Then you realize that Blade is also standing there, behind Luocha and Jing Yuan, staring at you menacingly. Well, he was just staring at you like a normal person, but the look was menacing to you. 

You point an accusing finger at Blade. “Why are you here? Didn’t you go somewhere with Kafka after our encounter at the Xianzhou Loufu?!” You demand, taking a step back.

Blade blinks at you. “What do you mean? Am I not allowed to check up on you?” Blade asks, raising an eyebrow at you.

You snort and lean against the door, glaring at the long, dark-haired man behind Luocha and Jing Yuan. “That’s rich coming from someone that cut my neck the other day!” You say, pointing at the bandaid on your neck.

Jing Yuan and Luocha slowly turn to look at Blade. Their demeanors shift suddenly, and the temperature in the area seems to drop. Blade frowns and ignores the glares Luocha, and Jing Yuan are giving him.

Blade sighs. “I didn’t mean to cut your neck, alright? I didn’t think the edge of the sword would be that sharp,” Blade mutters.

You grumble and shift on one foot, looking at the ground. “Yeah, well, I’m doing fine now. I appreciate you three checking up on me, really. Even though you all didn’t need to do that.” you say.

Jing Yuan chuckles. “Well, when it comes to you, we’re willing to drop everything we’re doing to make sure you’re safe,” says Jing Yuan, giving you a closed-eye smile.

“Now that we have checked up on you, I think we should leave you alone to rest now,” Luocha says, smiling at you.

You give Luocha a smile in return and bid the three men goodbye before closing the door. You walk to your bed and collapse on it, closing your eyes. When you open your eyes, you’re back in the void, standing before Nanook. Nanook lets you stand on his hand and lifts you to his eyes, caressing your cheek with his index finger.

“My beautiful, shining star. We will meet soon,” Nanook murmurs.

You place your hands over Nanook’s finger, leaning into his touch. “What do you mean by shining star? Blade and Kafka called me a fallen star. Is there a correlation between the two?”  you ask.

“That, I cannot tell you, my shining star. You will know soon enough,” replies Nanook.

The void around you fades away, and you wake up to see people surrounding you. You blink at them and sit up, but Dan Heng pushes you back down on the bed. You look at Dan Heng and the others with a questioning look. Your moment with Nanook was cut so suddenly. Did something happen?

You rub your eyes. “What happened? Why is everyone in my room?” You ask.

Himeko sighs in relief, smiling at you. “We’re just glad you’re okay, that’s all,” says Himeko

You stare at Himeko and the others quizzically. “Then, does that mean I can continue my sleep?” You ask.

March’s eyes widen, and she looks at the others with panic. “Uh, yes! But you’ve been sleeping so much today! Do you want to walk around the Astral Express with us? You know, for fresh air and maybe get something to eat after?” March asks. 

You shrug, rolling off the bed and stretching your arms in the air. “Yeah, sure, why not? I don’t think I had anything to eat today, so I might as well walk around the Astral Express and get something to eat after.”

March grins and grabs you by your wrist before pulling you out of your room with the others following behind. You’re not sure if you want to know what happened before you woke up, but everyone in the room looks… shaken up, if that’s the right way to describe it.

Note: Not gonna lie, I kind of like how this fic turned out. The starting "chapter" of the new series is completely different from how I started the Genshin Impact Isekai fic. I have way too many ideas for Honkai Star Rail, and I'm excited to post more for Honkai Star Rail along with the Genshin fics. I might make a more organized masterlist for all of my fics, but I'm not sure when I'll do that 🤔 To my new and/or returning readers, please keep in mind that I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3!

Read more of my works on my Masterlist | Maybe support me by tipping me on Ko-Fi or by reblogging my fanfics! ^^ I will also be posting exclusive fanfics on Ko-Fi as well very soon! I might post all of my stories on there too, but who knows. You can also tip me on Tumblr if you'd like as a way to show support! ^^

[letsgoletsgetit08]

soft hours pt. 1 - christmas

how they would celebrate christmas with you (plus a suprise they have trouble keeping secret)

hyung line

warnings: mdni, christmas fluff, smut

pairings: park seonghwa x f!reader, kim hongjoong x f!reader, jeong yunho x f!reader, kang yeosang x f!reader

word count: 3.4k

author's note: I picture this as slightly aged up members and their significant others, still famous and working in the industry but with solo careers (hence the ability to take actual time off for themselves). But I did try to keep that part vague. I'm not religious but I grew up with Christmas, but feel free to sub in whatever winter holiday tickles your fancy. Maknae line coming soon!

likes, comments, and reblogs always welcome as long as you're not a minor!

Park Seonghwa: Park Seonghwa loves Christmas and even moreso, winter. He has gifts and activities planned every day of December leading up to Christmas Day. He takes you ice skating, sledding, to have your picture made with Santa - even though you're both definitely too old, and yes, some of the gifts are small, like your favorite candy, some are tokens to use for quality time with him, he’s a big fan of an advent calendar. But some of the gifts, the ones closer and on Christmas proper, are very nice. Matching bracelets with both of your birthstones, a purse you had your eye on that you mentioned in passing earlier that year.

The gifts are wonderful but your favorite part is the quality time you get to spend with him. Christmas Eve is spent in the matching pajamas he gifted you, White Christmas playing in the background while the two of you assemble the Lego set you gifted him a day early, sipping on spiked apple cider and taking breaks for long, tender make out sessions and short bursts of aggressive kisses and cuddle attacks.

You take a break from building the set to read your book, curled up behind him on the couch, and when you inevitably nod off, he only pouts for a minute when you don't reply to his excitement about finishing an elaborate section of the Lego set, turning to see you with your chin to your chest, book slipping out of your hand.

You stir only when he's kissing your forehead and urging you to go brush your teeth because, “You always regret it when you don't, my little rein-dear”. He looks at you expectantly when he makes the pun and you try not to laugh at his stupid joke but you can't help it when he's cheesing in anticipation. He stares at you for a while as you fall asleep next to him in bed, watching your eyelashes flutter, resisting the urge to keep kissing your cheeks, lest he disturb you. He's too excited for the morning to fall asleep fast, but watching you is a treat.

He's up at the crack of dawn with anticipation and resists waking you up for as long as he can until eventually, he caves, situating himself between your legs, pulling down your underwear and taking his sweet time as he eats you out, his mouth gentle and languid as he eases you into consciousness. It's one of your favorite ways to wake up and he saves it for special occasions. By the time you're fully awake, you're a whiny mess, begging for him until he gives in, too excited to start the day to make this one of his longer sessions. 

“Merry Christmas to me.” You joke sleepily as he pushes inside of you slowly. 

“Mmh your pussy is the best gift I could have asked for.” He replies as he bottoms out. 

It doesn't take long for either of you to finish, and it takes every fiber in his being to not dash out of the room immediately to go get coffee started and watch you open your final gift, but he exercises some self control, cuddling you and helping you back into your pants. You giggle at his urgency. 

His last present is an envelope containing a hand-written love letter and two plane tickets for a weekend together over New Years on Jeju Island. He's just glad you’ve yet to find the ring he's had hidden in his closet for three months now. He plans to propose as the clock strikes twelve into the new year. 

Kim Hongjoong: Hongjoong is oddly withholding, nervous, and antsy around two weeks before Christmas when you assume your gift got delivered. He's bad about spending way too much on you, despite swearing up and down that it's, “Just something small!” Fortunately for you, you can tell when he's lying because his eyes go shifty and he gets cagey and jumpy. He feels bad he can't spend as much time with you as he'd like around the holidays but when you bring him coffee to his studio on Christmas Eve, he surprises you with a song he's working on about how he'd like to spend the holidays with you. 

“My mind kept drifting to you while I was trying to work on something else so I had to get this out of my system before I could keep working on something else. It's kinda cheesy but-”

“Joongie, no.” You pull him in for a kiss, laughing at his dumbfounded face, “It's perfect, baby. You know, I would be perfectly happy if this was the only thing you got me for Christmas.” 

“Baby! No way.” He pulls you into his lap on the couch in his studio, “You're far too special to me for that. Plus, I really think you're going to love what I got you.”

“What did you get me!?” You try to catch him off guard. 

“I-” He almost fell for it, “Hey! I'm not telling.” He starts to tickle you as punishment, ending with the two of you nose to nose, limbs tangled, horizontal on the couch. 

“Can you give me one gift early then?” You let your hands wander between his thighs, sticking your bottom lip out and widening your eyes, knowing he has a hard time saying no when you pout and plead. 

“You’re going to end up keeping me here all night.” He pretends to resist, but he was already kissing down the column of your neck and reaching for the hem of your shirt. 

“Please, Joong.” You didn't know which thing you were pleading for at that point as he derobed you and worked you open with his fingers before taking you right there in his studio, both of you glad for the sound proof room. 

You convince him later to give his work a rest for the night and come home to sleep in a real bed. The next morning, you wake to him sitting by you on the bed, meticulously wrapped gift in his hands, nearly bouncing with anticipation. 

“Baby-” You blink your eyes open, knowing you look a hot mess from your slumber. 

“Merry Christmas!” He shoves the gift in your hands. 

You unwrap it painstakingly slowly just to watch him vibrate on the spot in his excitement. 

It's a beautiful custom winter coat from Balmain, lined with silk that has Hongjoong’s “No1LikeMe” printed on it, exactly in your style and you can tell even before trying it on that it will fit perfectly.

“So this is why you needed my measurements in March. Not because you would lose a bet with Wooyoung.” You laughed at his silly excuse. 

“Yeah, yeah, you caught me but DOYOULIKEIT?!” His words rushed out as you tackled him to the bed. 

“Kim Hongjoong. I love it.” You pepper his face with kisses, “Please never tell me how much you spent on this.” 

He knew this commentary was coming because he gave you a smarmy grin, “Actually! This was a personal favor. It's one of a kind. Olivier refused to let me pay a dime because, ‘Your girl keeps you fed and for that I owe her.’ His words.” 

“Ask me from my childhood if I ever thought I'd have personal favor with a designer from a high end brand and I'd laugh in your face.” You shook your head as you checked yourself out in the mirror. 

“Thank you so much, baby.” You cage him in on the bed. 

“Wait, wait. Check the breast pocket before you seduce me again.” He says this a bit breathless and you think you might kill him if he proposes to you while you wear one of his old t-shirts, your Christmas underwear, and the coat he just gifted you. Not to mention you still had bed hair and morning breath. 

Kill or kiss, they were only two letters different, and you ended up choosing the second as you stared at the ring of your dreams in your hand. 

“Hongjoong-” You were at a loss for words. 

“Please marry me, my love. My life won't be complete until you agree to be bound to me spoiling you and surprising you by the law.” 

“Yes!” You kiss him, still in disbelief, “Yes, Hongjoong. Of course I'll marry you.”

You shimmy his pants down enough to free him and move your underwear to the side, too excited to do more, and take him in one go, making love to him wearing both of his gifts. 

“This is embarrassing but I got you the exact same things.” You joke as the two of you cuddle.

“Oh, how embarrassing!” Hongjoong jokes back. He's impossible to buy for, always getting himself what he needs as he discovers a need for it. 

He doesn't expect you to have put together a binder full of photocards for your final gift to him. You put together a collection of photos of the two of you and some of just yourself. Some naughty ones of just yourself. “I was tired of being the only one with the collection.” 

“It’s perfect,” He nuzzles his nose to yours, “My fiancé is a genius gift giver.” 

Jeong Yunho: The man loves the holidays and this year is certainly no exception. He's so excited because he's convinced your families to celebrate together on Christmas Eve. You're more than a little suspicious with his hushed phone calls and the guilty puppy face he makes when you ask who called and he has to make up a lie. Twelve days before Christmas he surprises you with your first gift, a pre-paid facial appointment. The other days follow suit with a massage, hair appointment, nail appointment, things of that nature, culminating with shoes, a dress, jewelry, and a very nice set of lingerie that he wants you to wear on Christmas. It's beyond obvious at that point, but you suspend your disbelief for his sake, knowing how excited he is for this moment. 

Christmas Eve with your combined families goes better than you imagined it would. The food was good, the wine and conversation flowed, and mass hadn't even lasted that long. He waits until everyone is playing charades in the living room, and he brings you up with him after pretending to read his word on the slip of paper, holding up 4 fingers to indicate it was a four-word answer. He scans the room with his eyes before taking your left hand in his own and getting down on one knee.

“Will you marry me?” You ask as if you're still playing the game. 

“You're too good at this game.” He kisses your hand and pulls the ring box out of his pocket, “Sweetheart, I'm convinced you were created just for me. Falling in love with you over these years has been the greatest joy of my life and I never want to stop. Will you please do me the honor of marrying me?” 

“Yunho…” Tears escape your eyes at his words, “I would love nothing more. Yes, baby.” 

He drops the ring box after removing the ring and slides it onto your finger before standing, picking you up, and twirling you around to the tune of the applause of both of your families. 

Later that night, he unwraps you like the gift he considers you to be, taking off the clothes he bought for you piece by piece before turning you into a panting mess on his mattress as he insists on getting you off with his hands and mouth twice before he finally pushes inside of you, guiding your legs back with careful hands until you're practically bent and half and he’s able to fuck you deep like you like it, the head of his cock kissing your cervix every few strokes. 

“Fuck, I love when you take me like this, honey. I can’t wait to fuck a baby into you.”

“God, yes, Yunho-” You groan as he hits your sweet spot over and over. “Give me a few years, but we can pretend in the meantime.” 

“Mmh, I like the sound of that,” He grunts from the effort, “Gonna fuck you so full.”

“Everyone will see I'm yours.” You're about to fall apart around him. 

“All. Mine.” He punctuates his words with thrusts, “All. Fucking. Mine. Forever. Fuck, baby, come with me.” 

“Yunho!” You cry out as you finish, your orgasm prolonged by the feeling of him pumping you full of his seed.

Truth be told, at least in the heat of the moment, you wouldn't have cared at all had he been able to get you pregnant right then. But you knew as you fell asleep in his arms, how peaceful it was with just the two of you, you would be glad you had a few years with him as yours alone before bringing a whole other human being into the mix.

Kang Yeosang: Yeosang was not necessarily a fan of the holidays before he met you, but he adores them now. More than anything, he adores watching you enjoy them. He buys you matching berets and thinks he's so slick booking the two of you a room at a ski lodge in Austria the week of Christmas. Neither of you intend to ski, but Vienna goes all out for the holiday and he wants to spend several snow days shopping, eating, and sightseeing with you. He buys you anything you show a slight interest in, despite your protests, but his real gift is tucked safely in his luggage at the lodge. 

Two days into your trip, the two of you are exhausted and decide to spend the day around the ski village rather than in the city. You find Yeosang staring at you with hearts in his eyes more than usual that day. Normally you would blush and tell him to stop, but today, you allowed it. After all, you were doing the same thing. 

“Oh! This looks fun!” He holds up a Sanrio puzzle he found in the kid section. “I know it's for kids but-”

“We're getting it.” You smiled at how his face lit up. He was so impossible to not just completely adore and fawn over at all times.

“What if we go back to our room, order room service, and open this bad boy up?” He asks you, conspiratorial glint in his eye.

“This is why I love you.” You kiss the apple of his cheek. He's had to train himself not to move so you can't reach him when you try to kiss his face, due to years of acting like he hated it when his friends would do it. 

“I love you more, angel.” He grabs your hand and leads you over to check out, calling a slightly mispronounced “Bitteschön!” over his shoulder to the woman working the cash register on the way out. 

After dinner, spiked hot chocolates in hand, fireplace roaring in the hearth, the two of you work on the puzzle in comfortable silence. As much as you love talking to Yeosang and would pay good money to live inside his brain for a day, you cherish the fact that the two of you can have such peace in one another’s company. No compulsion to disturb the stillness. 

“Oh!” Yeosang looked up after a while, “Look, jagi. It's snowing!” 

“Really?!” You loved the snow. Well, you loved looking at the snow. 

“I wish it could snow inside. But not be cold.” Yeosang stood, pulling you to your feet and leading you over to the big bay window overlooking the powdery slopes.

“You know what? Yeah, that sounds ideal.” You chuckle, amused as ever at how his mind works. You tuck yourself under his arm and he picks up on your cue, pulling you securely to his side. 

Sure, it had been snowy the whole time you'd been there, but there was something magical about the big, fat flakes swirling in the air and glittering as they fell on the ground in the bright moonlight. 

“We'll probably be snowed in tomorrow.” Yeosang concludes as the two of you watch it accumulate, pulling you in front of himself so he could loop his arms around your waist and kiss the side of your neck.  

“I mean, we're at a ski resort-”

“Shh, babe. We're going to be snowed in tomorrow.” Yeosang says a little more firmly. 

You catch his drift, “Oh! Right. Yes. We'll definitely be snowed in tomorrow! Oh no! What will we do?” You humor him. 

“Don't worry, my beautiful girl, I'll make sure we're entertained all day while we're snowed in.” He mumbles in your ear, his voice low and carrying an unmistakable edge of desire on it.

“Mmh, like what?” You answer, breath hitching in your throat as his hands roam your body, one of them skimming the waistband of your pajama pants, the other finding a light but possessive position around your neck, “I can think of several things. But to start I'm going to fuck you against this window so we can watch the snow fall as I make you come over and over again on this cock.” 

“Fuck, Sangie-” You gasp as his hand blazes a trail to your core, knowing it will already be wet for him because he knows well what he does to you.

He's good to his word, dedicated as ever to your pleasure, stretching you around his girth, fingers on your clit as he makes you come the first time, heeding your request happily to move in front of the fire as you caught a chill with your bare face and nipples pressed to the cold window. 

He lays down one of the many plush blankets in front of the fireplace, ensuring you're comfortable before kissing down the slopes of your form, mouth landing between your legs, fingers taking over what his dick finished the first time, taking a more leisurely route to your release the second time, but quick to stuff you full again immediately afterwards for the third, words lost on both of you as pleasure rolls through your bodies in tandem. 

He washes your hair in the shower afterwards and you're nearly overwhelmed with love for the man you get to call yours. Perfect in every way. 

Both of you realize it's well past midnight as you cuddle together in bed, “Merry Christmas, precious.” Yeosang smiles at you, eyes once again full with a depth of love you had seen before but not as often as you had recently. 

“Merry Christmas, Sangie.” You return his gaze, hoping he knows just how much you mean it. 

“Marry me.” He blurts out, lost in your eyes, “Sorry, I had a whole thing planned and I have a ring, I swear-” 

You cut him off with a kiss, “Kang Yeosang.” You snicker, “Yes. God, yes, I'd be so happy to.” 

“Really?” He smiles so big it looks like it hurts his cheeks and it definitely hurts your heart with how pure and sweet he is. 

“Yes, baby, of course!” You kiss him again, unable to resist. 

The kiss deepens and your activities from earlier have an unprecedented encore, all but rendering your shower pointless as you fall apart repeatedly in one another's arms well into the early hours of the morning, watching the sunrise paint the ground pink, the exact shade, you note, of the birthmark by Yeosang’s eye. 

The two of you sleep late into the day. You're disoriented for a moment as Yeosang flies out of bed and begins rummaging through his luggage, finally finding what he sought and returning to bed with the ring box in hand. You had almost forgotten, or thought it was a dream, and you can't stop the tears as they fall when he fits the most beautiful ring you've ever seen onto your finger. 

“I'm yours. Forever. For as long as you'll have me, my love.” Yeosang’s deep voice rumbles through your bones, rearranging your neurotransmitter transporters to stop the reuptake of the norepinephrine, serotonin, and dopamine that was produced any time he spoke. 

“I want you forever, Yeosang.” 

And it was true. You were sure you were the happiest and luckiest person on earth to have earned the trust, love, and dedication of the man beside you. He felt the same way and he intended to show it to you every day for the rest of your life.

[mrsjellymunson]

KNOCK AT THE CABIN | Part Two

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Written for @bettyfrommars, @allthingsjoeq and @somnambulic-thing ’s excellent Stranger Prompts challenge - thank you for this, friends!

Series Summary: After the events of the previous months, everyone is shocked by the unexpected return of an old friend. But how much has he changed?

Chapter summary: Some answers, more questions 😉

WC: ~8.5k

C/W: 18+, MDNI, NSFW, series CW for eventual Eddie Munson x fem!reader smut, post-S4, Upside Down exists, dark/supernatural themes, emotional scenes, eventual friends-to-lovers, descriptions of minor injuries, food/eating, mentions of canon-typical torture/experiments.

A/N: This series contains a lot of themes and scenarios that I haven’t written for before, I’d love to know what you think! Please comment and reblog, it means the world to writers, and reblogs mean work gets seen. Abundant thanks to @the-unforgivenn for beta-ing and playing The Thesaurus Game 😛 This series has a taglist so if you’d like to be on either it or my general one just lemme know in a comment, ask or message, I’d love to have you on board 🙏💙

Prev: Prologue Part One

Series masterlist

My masterlist

You wake earlier than they do, shards of sunlight peeking through Steve’s pathetically thin and badly arranged curtains hitting you straight in the face.

You don’t move initially, enjoying the sound of both boys’ soft, rhythmic breaths, grateful they’ve both had the opportunity to rest and sleep.

You use this moment of stillness to allow the events of the previous night to filter through your consciousness. Eddie’s still here. He’s somewhat warmer than he was, and is still breathing. You’ll take all of those as a win.

His arm is still wrapped around your ribs, his chest against your back. During the night, one of his thighs has made its way between yours, and his hips are now pressed up against the swell of your ass.

You suppose that if you look at it objectively, he’s in a pretty good approximation of the Recovery Position. Good for him. Promoting healing, aiding recovery, and all that.

And you suppose that if you look at it subjectively, having the entire length of Eddie’s body squashed against the entire length of yours, and having his leg pressed against you just there, stirs feelings that are inappropriate for you to be having right now. Such as how much you’re enjoying it. How safe you feel. How much you wish there weren’t even these small, thin pieces of fabric separating you from him…

He snuffles behind you, groaning softly, and his arm contracts, pulling you even closer to him. You’d much prefer it was more than just the involuntary tensing of a waking man that’s causing him to do this, but push that thought to the back of your mind.

You slowly turn your head as far as you can, only able to see a little of him out of the corner of your eye. His hair is fuzzy as hell, but that’s the least of your concerns right now.

In what you hope is a soft and comforting voice, you ask,

“Morning, big guy. How’re you feeling?”

Eddie’s voice is cracked and broken, like he hasn’t used it in a while. It’s gravelly and low as he mumbles,

“Mmf. A little sore, but warm. God, it feels so good to be warm…”

His arm clenches around you again, and he pushes his face into the back of your neck.

Trying to cover an unbidden moan, and inject some levity, you reply,

“Well, thank goodness for that, otherwise all of mine and Steve’s efforts last night would’ve been for nothing.”

Eddie shifts, starting to get a sense of where he is and the situation he’s found himself in. It causes Steve to stir behind him and let out a little groan of his own, and you feel Eddie freeze.

Trying to calm him and keep this obviously bizarre situation simple and light, you mumble,

“Yeah, body heat seemed to be the best way to keep you warm. I don’t suppose waking up naked between me and Harrington was on your bucket list, right?”

Eddie’s cheeks don’t exactly flush (going from pale grey to pale pink far too much of a gradient to be entirely achievable right now), but you do notice a little warmth appear in them.

Eddie jests, at least you think he’s jesting, as his grip around you tightens again, stronger this time as his muscles wake up, and he chuckles lightly as he smooshes his face into your hair,

“Well, it's definitely not the worst place I’ve ever woken up.”

This rouses Steve enough that he’s now fully awake, and he seems to remember where he is too. He moves away from Eddie and sits up, rubbing his eyes and yawning. Glancing over, he mumbles,

“Hey, man. So, there’s literally hundreds of things I wanna ask you right now, but I guess I’ll start with, uh, how are you?”

Steve’s face contorts with a mix of incredulity and embarrassment at the utter banality of the question he just asked.

Unfazed, Eddie replies,

“Honestly, dude? I’m not entirely sure…”

He tries to shift his legs to sit up, but realises how enmeshed they are with yours, and inadvertently pushes his thigh up even closer to you.

Steve continues, unable to stop himself.

“What happened? Where have you been? How did you even get here?”

Eddie lets out a long, low exhale.

Finally picking up on how tired Eddie still is, and how tangled your and Eddie’s limbs are, you guess Steve decides he doesn’t want to get into any of that right now and declares,

“Y’know what, I’m gonna go make coffee.”

He grabs some sweats and a crumpled tee, and heads out towards the kitchen, leaving you and Eddie alone.

Fuck, this is awkward.

After a short pause, you mumble,

“Yeah, I suppose we should get up too. The kids are gonna be beside themselves, I’d prepare yourself for a barrage of questions if I were you.”

Exhaling, you somewhat reluctantly extricate yourself from Eddie’s embrace, sitting on the edge of the bed and reaching for the pile of clothes you’re grateful you had the foresight to put out last night.

Pulling on jeans, a worn t-shirt and a woollen jumper, you sit back down and turn to Eddie, who’s now leaning up against Steve’s battered headboard, sheets bunched around his waist.

You notice his eyes are still sunken and red-rimmed, but he’s lost some of the sallowness that he had last night, and his features are significantly more relaxed.

As he sits up you have the chance to observe his torso properly. He’s thinner, and much paler, than the boy you remember. The odd appearance of his musculature that you could see last night is still abundantly present.

And there are scars. Lots of scars. They vary in appearance and colour, rough slashes and violent starbursts, in silvery white, muted pinks and shades of angry purples and reds. Some look smooth and well-healed, whilst others are raised and jagged. Some transect the inked designs you came to know so well, and it looks like he might’ve lost a nipple.

Realising you’ve been staring, you tear your eyes away and move them instead to Eddie’s face. He looks terrified, like he’s worried you’re going to find him abhorrent and run away screaming.

He starts to reach for the covers, to cover himself, but you lunge forwards and grab one of his hands in yours. You don’t break his gaze as you tell him,

“It’s okay, Eddie. You don’t have to hide yourself from me.”

His face softens, but his eyebrows remain pinched and his lips are still pressed tightly together.

Finally looking down as you stroke over his hand with both of yours, you notice that the wounds that you bathed and tended to only a few hours ago are practically healed, only a few areas of redness remaining where there were bleeding gashes and scarlet grazes. Some have almost disappeared.

You decide not to focus on this and concentrate instead on the fact that your friend, your best friend, the one you all thought was dead, is back with you here, right now.

Grasping his hand in both of yours, you murmur,

“However it happened, it’s really, really good to have you back, you know.”

He smiles then, and although it reaches his eyes, it does little to lift the grey pallor of his face.

He brings his other hand over, and as he rubs his thumbs over your knuckles he notices the ring on your thumb. He runs a pad over the contours of the skull.

“You- You kept this?”

“Of course! I wear it every day. It helps me remember my best friend.” Your voice gets quiet as you add, unsure whether you’re overstepping.

“It helps keep you close to me.”

You hold each other's gaze for a beat too long, and Eddie’s lips open as if he’s going to say something.

Before he has the chance, a ball of anxiety rises in your throat, and you decide you can’t take the risk of him… what?

Telling you you’re stupid? That it doesn’t mean anything? That he wants his ring back?

You know none of this sounds like anything Eddie would say, but in your fragile, exhausted state you need to protect yourself from the risk of emotional harm, no matter how small.

You remove your hand from his and bend to retrieve the clothes Steve left for him, reasoning with a small smile,

“We don’t want you getting cold again, right?”

Eddie starts to dress, grunting a little as his limbs start working again. He only has time to pull on the worn sweatshirt when the door bursts open and the kids rush in. Dustin first, swiftly followed by Mike and Lucas, whilst Will and Jane hang back in the doorway.

The three teens leap, grinning, onto Steve’s bed, whooping and hollering and rolling around. They’re full of questions and theories and tales of what they’ve been doing whilst he’s been gone, all talking over one another.

Whilst Eddie is smiling and laughing and you can tell he’s buoyed by their love and exuberance, you also know he still needs to recover from last night, let alone whatever else he might have been through these past few weeks. So after a few minutes you shoo them out, instructing them to go help Steve make breakfast.

Dustin’s the last to leave, pausing in the doorway as he turns back, running his hand down his cheek and saying, with an infinitely adoring expression on his face,

“I can’t believe you’re here, man. It’s so good to have you back.”

They share friendly smiles before Dustin turns on his heel and follows the others, his voice decreasing in volume as he heads down the hallway yelling,

“I’m on toast duty today! You guys ate all the good peanut butter last time…”

You both snicker at their antics, Eddie shaking his head a little.

You want to say more, but settle for,

“They missed you. We all did.”

Eddie furrows his eyebrows and rolls his lips inwards into a tight-lipped smile, and you sense that he’s just as emotional as you all are.

He continues dressing, and you’re relieved the kids didn’t see Eddie’s scars, for all their sakes. You’re not sure whether they’re ready to revisit what happened in the Upside Down, and you don't want Eddie’s first day back with you all to involve him having to uncomfortably explain where they all came from.

He dons the rest of the unfamiliar clothing, and eventually stands, facing you. He spreads his arms wide and pulls a goofy face, raising his eyebrows high and flattening his mouth into a thin line, knowing how unlike ‘him’ he must look right now.

You never imagined you’d ever see your favourite black-loving metalhead in an oversized heather grey Hawkins Athletic sweatshirt, worn navy sweatpants and fluffy white sports socks, but needs must, and at least it’s all clean and he’s staying warm.

There’s a crash in the kitchen, startling both of you, but it prompts you to suggest,

“Come on, let’s go see what chaos those guys are causing.”

You direct him to the front of the house, and as Eddie shuffles into the kitchen all eyes turn to him. You see the kids take in his fluffy hair and new garb. He notices and, preemptively gesturing to himself and in a very close approximation of his Dungeon Master voice, says,

“If anyone says anything about this, I swear I will kill you. Got it?”

Mike and Lucas try to act like they weren’t even looking, and Dustin raises his hands in supplication. Jane laughs at the boys’ responses and Will smirks at the shenanigans, and you’re certain he and Eddie are going to get along just fine.

The kids have made everyone a simple breakfast of boiled eggs, toast and fresh oatmeal and they bring it to the large farmhouse-style table as everyone gets situated. Craving his proximity, you take the chair next to Eddie. Steve’s made a large pot of hot coffee, which is swiftly devoured by the four adults and almost instantly requires replenishment.

The kids want to fill Eddie in on, well, everything. Over breakfast there’s much chatter about what’s been happening in town, how the three of you ended up staying here, how kind and supportive Wayne and Owens have been, even a somewhat discombobulating discussion of what Eddie’s funeral was like. Plus there’s tales from the boys about D&D and stuff that’s important to the teens, most of which you zone out of.

Eddie is also properly introduced to the two he doesn’t know. He greets Will with a broad smile and claps both his hands around the boy’s slender one, a symbolic gesture full of characteristic Eddie warmth, welcoming another sheep even though this particular one has known the others for many years.

You don’t think anyone else notices, but you don’t miss the moment of extended eye contact and tiny nods that are exchanged between him and Jane, as they are introduced and shake hands.

Eddie seems to have a good appetite, devouring four warm, runny-yolked eggs, three slices of toast slathered with butter and jelly, and two large bowls of oatmeal with honey and syrup in rapid succession.

There’s some syrup on his chin when he’s finished. You want to clean it off with your thumb and suck it into your mouth, but you resist the urge.

The food cheers him, even seems to put a little colour in Eddie’s cheeks. Well, perhaps not colour exactly, but a move from grey to white is certainly progress. It’s hardly Cordon Bleu cuisine, but Eddie’s hoovered it up like it’s the best meal he’s ever had. You wonder what he’s been surviving on all this time to make such simple stuff seem so luxurious.

Coffee mugs are refreshed, the table is cleared, and there follows a semi-formal exchange of the personal items of Eddie’s that are in the cabin. Lucas returns his pocket knife, which Eddie thanks him for with a bro handshake and a half-hug, and Dustin gets down on one knee and presents him with his wallet chain on outstretched hands, as if he’s presenting a weapon or battle trophy to his commander. Eddie ruffles his hair and brings him in for a crushing bear hug.

Robin and Steve return his crucifix and boar’s head rings, which he dons, and you can’t help noticing that they’re slightly looser than they used to be. You’re grateful nobody questions why you don’t return the skull ring to him, or seems to notice the knowing glance and small smile that he gives you.

Dishes are cleaned and yet more coffee is brewed, and you head to the utility room to see how Eddie’s clothes are doing in the (noisy, and possibly unsafe) drier. As you return there’s a lull in the conversation.

Ever the direct one, Robin can’t stand the not knowing any longer, and as Steve pours the next round of coffees she blurts,

“So, what the fuck happened? We thought you were dead. You were dead. They fucking buried you!”

The kitchen falls silent for a moment, nobody sure how much Eddie wants to divulge or relive.

He wraps his palms around his steaming mug, and takes a long, slow, deep breath in and out before he starts talking.

“I don’t remember much after that night with the, uh, Demobats. I kinda remember being jostled into a van, or a military-type vehicle maybe? And tubes, bright lights, people shouting…

“The next thing I know, I’m in some kind of lab, a poky room with a tiny cot and metal furniture, and people coming in at all hours to prod at me and stick me with needles. They did all sorts of tests and injected me with shit, and they wouldn’t tell me what any of it was.

“I’m not sure whether it’s a good or a bad thing that I can’t remember a lot of detail. It’s mostly just pain, agony, and being either chained or locked up. And screaming, so much screaming... Whether that was me or the others, I don’t know.”

You interject,

“There- There were others?”

He nods slowly.

“Yeah, definitely more than just me. I have no idea how many, who they were, what happened to them...”

His hands start trembling, and he lets go of the mug that’s started to shake in his grip, quickly putting his hands in his lap.

“I think the injections they were giving me were concoctions made from the… things they found… down there.

“Owens visited me a couple of times. He said he didn’t like what was being done to me but he wasn’t able to change anything. The last time I saw him he told me he was being transferred to a different site and didn’t think he’d be able to visit again, but he wanted me to know there was someone on his side.”

There’s a brief pause before he continues,

“The last, uhh, experiment was the worst-”

Eddie screws up his face and clenches his teeth at the memory, and balls up one fist, bringing it up to his pursed lips. He squeezes his eyes closed, and a tear appears at the corner of one eye.

You don’t know whether it’s the right thing to do, but you grab his other hand under the table, hoping it’ll give him comfort but fully expecting him to flinch away.

He doesn’t, and his hand clamps around yours in a fierce grip, almost crushing it.

Voice trembling and breaking, he continues.

“It was- Jesus H Christ- it was like liquid fucking fire. All I remember was feeling like they’d injected me with molten lava, and then there was so much shouting, and hands holding me down, and then everything went black...”

He pauses, and nobody else speaks.

Steve swallows, the tap drips into the sink and Robin’s rings clink softly against her coffee mug as she turns it anxiously.

“And then… And then the next thing I remember is coming to, and feeling cold, so- so fucking cold. And darkness, absolute darkness. And I was so scared, and I just started scraping and scratching at whatever was over me, and just kept scrabbling and digging until… there wasn’t anything over me anymore.”

You’re all stunned.

Someone says a quiet ‘fuck’, and you think you hear a sob, perhaps from Dustin.

Steve remains silent but runs a hand through his hair, palm coming to rest over his mouth, and Robin mutters a soft,

“Shit, Eddie.”

You all realise that Eddie wasn’t lying on a slab at all for these past two months, but was being experimented on, and it takes a long moment to sink in.

Eventually, Eddie says,

“Fuck. They really buried me, huh?”

To illustrate his point and as an attempt to inject some humour into the moment, he loosely combs his fingers through his fluffy locks and asks, “When I got here, did I have stuff in my hair?”

There are a few chuckles, and someone throws a balled up paper napkin at him.

There’s another short pause where nobody says anything, but then it’s like a dam breaks and everyone starts talking at once. Robin and Steve make comparisons with the Russians, the kids offer D&D analogies and half-baked scientific theories, and people ask Will and Jane what they think.

For the rest of the morning much discussion ensues, as well as the consumption of store-brand cookies and even more coffee, and you all try to fill in the blanks. Whilst some of the kids interject with ideas and suggestions, others sit quietly, mostly listening. You wonder quite how much secondhand trauma this is going to cause all of them.

As a group you eventually surmise that some shadowy branch of the military was battering Eddie and the others with all sorts of tests, and injecting them with unknown substances, goals unknown and refusing to tell anyone what they were.

Owens clearly never agreed with their approach, and it sounds like he tried to distance himself as much as possible.

The military finally took their experiments too far. Thinking they’d killed him, they eventually released Eddie’s body to his only family, Wayne, and allowed him to be buried.

Unbeknownst to them, their final experiment was the most successful, it just took longer to manifest than the others. Weeks, in fact. Just long enough for the scientists (if you could even call them that) to lose any expectation of a recovery, and for Owens and Wayne to organise a funeral.

Eddie had awoken, dazed, trapped and freezing and with no idea where he was, and had somehow managed to smash the lid of his coffin and scramble his way to the surface. On a rainy night, miles from anywhere.

Finally, Mike is the first to ask the question you think most of you have been contemplating.

“Dude, how did you even find us?”

At particularly painful points in his oration, Eddie has looked to you, seemingly finding comfort in your face, and his gaze doesn’t leave yours as he replies,

“Honestly? I don’t really know. I just had this… feeling… that I needed to come in this direction. And the closer I got, the more certain I was that this is where I’d find you.” Hurriedly, he looks around the rest of the group and adds, “Find you all.”

He carefully lays the hand not holding yours flat onto the table, and, eyes fixed on the faded floral tablecloth, he chokes back a sob as he asks a question that he’s clearly been holding back.

“Why didn’t anyone- Why didn’t you come find me?”

Robin grabs his hand across the table, wrapping it in both of hers, holding it tightly. There’s a beat of silence before she speaks.

“W-we didn’t know! They didn’t tell us anything about any lab. We thought you were dead. Eddie, that first night? They told us you’d died!”

Her voice cracks on the last word, and you see tears start to slowly run down her cheeks.

Eddie chokes, and his eyes lift to the ceiling.

Dustin’s the first to move as he scrapes his chair back and sprints around to Eddie, enveloping his shoulders and neck in a clumsy but aggressively enthusiastic hug as he mumbles into his friend’s shoulder,

“But you’re not dead. You’re not. You’re here, with us, now. You’re back, Eddie, you’re back...”

Lucas stands too, ruffling Eddie’s hair and half-hugging the top of his head with one arm, leaning his cheek against Eddie’s curls, and you lean into Eddie, placing your forehead against the side of his bicep.

Steve turns from where he’s been brewing even more coffee, and moves to place his hand on a patch of shoulder not covered by Dustin or Lucas, patting softly. As he turns back to the stove he comments,

“Yeah, man. D’you really think we wouldn’t’ve come got you? Fuck those guys and all their crappy experiments. No one does that to a member of The Party.”

You simultaneously feel Eddie’s grip on your hand tighten, and the rest of his body relax. Many of you are crying, the sleeves of Eddie’s sweater darkening in patches from the wet plops of Dustin’s tears.

Will and Jane are affected too, and you see their faces soften as they clasp each other's hands under the table.

Eddie’s breath deepens as he absorbs the love and affection of his friends. You guess he’s not used to this much positive attention, and has clearly received even less over the last few weeks.

You all sit in silence for a few long moments, allowing all this new information to sink in and emotions to settle.

Eventually the noise of the stove and the clattering of coffee supplies, together with a strong gust of wind and the increased pattering of leaves against the window, brings you all back to the room.

Eddie seems to have processed everything faster than the rest of you, his emotions shifting, and as Steve pours more coffee he becomes agitated, slamming his fists on the table, startling all of you with the ferocity of his movements.

You guess he’s angry not only at the testing he underwent, but that they lied to all of you, and let him feel hopeless, like nobody cared.

The kids move back as he stands and starts pacing, running his hands through his already-frizzy hair and shaking his head.

“FUCK! Those bastards! Not only did they use me as some kind of twisted lab rat, but they didn’t even tell you guys I was alive? And they let me think that none of you cared enough to come find me, visit me, get me out? GODDAMMIT!”

He slams a palm into the doorframe, and you all jump a little.

Turning back to the room, Eddie notices the effect he’s having on everyone, and, rubbing the back of his neck, says,

“I think I’m gonna go take a walk…”

He moves towards the back door, the expanse of the disused field behind the cabin seemingly the ideal place for him to get his head together.

But, spying the large axe leaning against the frame, he has a better idea.

“Hey, uh, do you guys have, like, logs ‘n’ shit that need chopping? I really need to, um, work through some stuff. Besides, it’s probably the least I can do, given how much heat and hot water I’ve already cost you all.”

He gives a sheepish snort and brings his hand to his face again.

It’s you who speaks first.

“Are you sure, Eddie? I mean, it’s been a stressful few days. Are you okay to be doing something so… physical?”

“Yeah, yeah… I’m feeling a little… pent up. Could do with working some of it off, y’know?”

You nod, figuring all of you are going to need different ways to process this whole bizarre and unsettling situation.

Dustin and Mike find some old tan workboots in a closet, presumably left by the previous owner. They don’t fit perfectly, and it looks like something may have nested in one of them at some point, but they’ll do for now. Eddie pulls them on over his loaned sweats and socks, leaving them unlaced.

Robin offers him his leather jacket. She’s obviously had a go at cleaning off as much of the mud as she can, but you can all tell it’s never going to be quite the same. At least it’s dry now, and Eddie takes it gratefully.

He grabs the old axe and the small hatchet that you use to chop kindling, unlocks the back door and steps outside, closing it behind him.

Dustin wants to go out to him, but Robin grabs him and holds him in a tight hug, explaining that he needs some time to process stuff.

The others give him space, some staying at the kitchen table to process their thoughts, others retreating to the living room and diverting their thoughts with the crackling cartoons that break through the terrible TV signal.

You choose to keep an eye on Eddie, staying back a little from the back door so as not to alarm him, but keeping him within your eye line.

You see Eddie pace a little, muttering to himself, then he shakes his head as if to clear it.

He turns to the log pile and hefts the axe a couple of times, getting the feel of it. He lifts a couple of modestly sized logs onto the stump, wielding the axe above his head and splitting them easily. Almost… effortlessly.

He chops a few more, flinging them into a pile with ease, then moves to lift a few larger ones, breezing through them with the same ‘hot knife through butter’ nonchalance.

It’s the most physical activity you’ve ever seen him do, aside from lifting the odd amp or two, which always left him puffed out. But he’s sailing through the woodpile with barely any exertion.

You can see he’s still processing the contents of your morning, as his features screw up occasionally and grumbled words and what are probably profanities spill from his lips.

As he hefts the axe through the tough logs you can see his eyes are getting redder, and his skin appears paler. You can’t see his body, but the tendons on his hands and neck are popping starkly underneath his translucent skin. And, the wind has picked up considerably since he’s been outside, whipping loose leaves and twigs around the cabin just like it did last night.

Eventually, he starts on the biggest, gnarliest logs. The ones you guys would only attempt when you really, really needed the firewood.

You hear grunts, muffled by the back door, as he works the tougher wood.

The axe gets stuck partway through a particularly thick log, and with an animalistic grunt Eddie yanks the blade from it. Easily lifting the log in his arms, he notches his long fingers into the groove and, in a move that startles you, he rips it into two pieces with his bare hands.

By the back door you suppress a gasp, your hand flying across your mouth and your eyes going wide. You’re not sure whether you should go to him, try to comfort him, or leave him to work through this in whatever way he needs to.

You don’t get the chance to decide, as he finally gets to a particularly old and knotty log that none of you have been able to get anywhere close to splitting. As Eddie slams the axe down into it with a ferocity you didn’t think was possible, he gets it far further than any of you have so far, but again, the blade gets stuck.

The wind picks up even more, as Eddie picks up the axe, log attached, and heaves it around his head, sending it spinning across the back field as he lets out a loud, feral and painful-sounding yell.

Breathing deep for a couple of moments, he runs a hand down his face and begins to trudge across the bumpy earth to retrieve it, coping easily with the rough and uneven ground of the ploughed field and his ill-fitting boots. You can see he’s still yelling expletives and occasionally waving his arms and shouting up into the sky.

The distance that he’s managed to throw the axe is substantial enough that he shrinks in your field of vision by the time he reaches it. You can no longer make out his expression, but as he comes to a halt you do see him bend over and place his hands on his knees, watching his back heave as he takes a few more deep, steadying breaths.

He lifts the axe and heaves both it and the attached heavy log easily over his shoulder with one hand. You consider that you’ve never seen him lift anything with such ease, save maybe his leather jacket, flung over his back, dangling it from one finger on a hot day.

As he turns and starts making his way back to the house, you notice that the wind has started to die down and is whipping less of Eddie’s hair around his face, and leaves and twigs begin to fall to the ground.

You hadn’t realised Jane had come to join you at the back door. Despite not directly knowing Eddie before, she says, in her characteristically deadpan voice, “He is… different now. Isn’t he?”

You purse your lips and nod, quick and small, and find it remarkable that this seemingly awkward young woman, who’s endured so much at the hands of so many, has developed such insight and tenderness.

After removing the axe from the gnarly chunk of wood and placing it by the back door, Eddie spends a few minutes arranging the logs he’s split into neat piles beneath the small shelter. The skin around his eyes is less red now, and his general demeanour seems more relaxed, controlled. Perhaps this has helped after all.

He takes a couple of breaths and composes himself before he heads back towards the door, holding the axe in one hand and a stack of logs atop his other arm.

Bashful, and conscious that you’d rather he didn’t know that you’ve been watching him the entire time, you take a few steps backwards and make like you’re just now coming to the door, opening it for him with a broad smile and directing him to the place in the living room where you store the wood for the fire, thanking him for his efforts.

As he places the last of the wood and starts to take off his jacket, you notice that his hands are again torn and bloody, splinters sticking out every which way and an angry-looking blister on one palm.

You assume that he’s reopened his wounds from last night, but the positions and patterns don’t match up. Everything from last night has almost completely healed, and these are all new.

Regardless of the peculiarities, they need attention, so you instruct him,

“Come with me, let’s get you cleaned up.”

You send him to your bedroom as you grab some washcloths, a bowl of warm water and the first aid kit from the bathroom.

You sit him up against your headboard, setting up your supplies on the comforter. Figuring it’s the most practical position for you to be in, you straddle his knees and begin dabbing at his cut and splintered hands with antiseptic. Realising there’s too much debris in the way, and wincing at the sheer size and quantity of them, you grab some tweezers, removing the splinters of various sizes that have embedded into his fingers and palms.

As you swap back to using the wet cloths and begin cleaning the blood from his skin, you’re perhaps less surprised than you should be to find that the new injuries have already stopped bleeding, and some of the smaller ones even appear to be closing up, apparently heading the same way as the cuts on his face and feet from whatever happened last night.

You work quietly for a few moments before your curiosity gets the better of you.

“Eddie?”

“Hmm?”

“What was that? Outside, just now? You seem…”

“Different? Yeah, I know… Don’t ask me how it happened, but I feel different too. Stronger, faster…”

He glances at you through his bangs.

“Less in control…”

His brow is furrowed as he holds your gaze, and you guess he’s waiting for you to back off. You don’t.

“I guess they… changed me.”

You move to touch his chin gently with one hand, wanting to reassure him. You realise that by telling him this you’re going to reveal that you were watching him, but you forge ahead anyway.

“Listen, I’m not gonna pretend that whatever it is that I just saw wasn’t a little… unnerving. But I’ve never felt unsafe around you. Quite the opposite, in fact. And that hasn’t changed. I don’t think it ever will.”

He refuses to meet your gaze, and twists his battered hands together in his lap, seemingly fighting with himself.

“I should go. Leave you guys. You’re not safe with me here.”

A vice grip seizes your chest. All logic leaves you, and the only thing you can think about is never letting him go again.

“Eddie, no!”

“I don’t really know what their plan was, but I’m guessing they were trying to make me into a super soldier, or something. They’re not gonna stop. As soon as they find out what happened at the cemetery, they’re gonna try to find me. And if I could find you, they can find me.”

A ball of anxiety forms in you. You can’t let him go. You just can’t.

“I thought you were dead, we all did. I’ve only just found you again, after I thought I’d lost you forever. Please don’t say you’re going to leave?”

Your voice cracks and you swallow back a sob. You lurch forward and grip both of his hands with all the strength you have left, not caring that you’re getting his blood on you, and might even be hurting him.

If Eddie feels any pain, he doesn't flinch. But the sight of you falling to pieces in front of him, because of him, is apparently something he can’t bear.

“Okay, I won’t. I’ll stay tonight, at least. Then we’ll try to figure something out. Maybe contact Owens, see if he knows anything. Alright?”

He raises his head and looks into your eyes now, as you snuffle a little and manage a small smile. He’s yours for tonight, at least.

No, not exactly yours, you have to remind yourself. He’s safe, with all of you, for tonight, at least.

Something else decides to jostle for prominence in your mind, and you ask him, quietly,

“How did you find us? Really. How did you know where to go?”

Eddie takes a deep breath before shifting slightly, and he returns the grip on your hands.

You think you hear a little trepidation in his voice as he speaks.

“I don’t know if this is going to sound crazy, but… what doesn’t these days, right? It’s like- Even before… everything, it’s like every time I left you I left a part of my soul with you. And… it would stay with you all the time we were apart. And then whenever I was with you I’d find it again. That’s how I found you. It was like I was searching for a piece of myself, and somehow I just knew where to find it.”

He goes quiet, dropping his chin to his chest again.

His words play on a loop in your head. Even before… I left a part of my soul with you… and whenever I was with you I’d find it...

You shift forwards even more, closing the gap between you, and the movement makes you become acutely aware of your proximity. You become conscious of the feel of his firm thighs between yours, how good it feels. How, for the second time in less than twenty four hours, you wish there weren’t these thin pieces of fabric between you.

Something sparks in your chest: Could he feel the same way as you?

Your voice trembles as you practically beg him,

“I don't want you ever to leave, Eddie. I don’t want us to ever be apart, and always be there for each other. I don’t want you to ever be missing a part of your soul again. I want to be with you, always.”

Eddie huffs out a sob of his own, lifting your hands to his and nuzzling his face into your knuckles. He takes one and slowly turns his head until his round nose connects with your curled fingers. And then, ever so slowly, he connects his lips with the soft, sensitive skin on your palm.

Tentatively, he moves a little and purses them against the inside of your wrist, lightly pressing them there, inhaling deeply and his breath shuddering slightly as he inhales your scent.

You notice both of your breathing has quickened. You can feel Eddie’s as it passes over your skin, and you feel your heartbeat in your throat.

Eddie looks over at you. His body may have changed in myriad ways, but his eyes remain the same. They’re still the huge, beautiful, warm pools of cacao that have drawn you in since the moment you met. It’s the tether that makes you realise that no matter how else he might’ve changed, deep down he’s still Eddie. Your Eddie.

You move your other hand, gently taking his wrist, and move his free hand up to your face. You close your eyes as you softly kiss his palm, and then move his hand to cup your cheek.

Gently, almost imperceptibly, Eddie moves his thumb and touches it to the very corner of your mouth. You feel a heat in your belly and you turn your head towards it, skimming it over your lips.

Your eyes flick between his chocolate orbs as Eddie bends his thumb ever so slightly. The pad of it pulls at the plush of your lower lip a tiny amount, but it’s enough to create a gap.

Without thinking you start to open your jaw, and he begins to move forwards. As he pushes into your waiting mouth all you can think about is tasting him, and your tongue starts to move. Just as the tip of it is about to make contact with Eddie’s thumb, there’s a jarring yell.

“Hey, everybody! Grub’s up!”

You pull apart with a start, both inhaling sharply.

It’s Robin, calling from the kitchen. Of course you’re grateful that the mums never allow the kids to arrive empty handed, but a large part of you wishes that you and Eddie could’ve had just a little more time to explore… whatever this is.

You let out nervous chuckles as you smile softly at one another, and hold each other’s gaze for probably little longer than is strictly necessary before you gather up the medical supplies and you both stand.

You can’t help but take Eddie’s hand in yours as you pull him towards the kitchen, encouraging him to follow lest he misses out on the delicacy that is Dustin’s mom’s substantial contribution.

“C’mon, Claudia’s lasagnas are totally legendary. It may sound simple, but combined with Mrs Sinclair’s recipe for garlic bread, I promise you, you’re about to have a near-spiritual culinary experience.”

Still feeling the heat of what just occurred in your room you busy yourself with packing away the first aid kit, and then elect to sit across the table from Eddie. You convince yourself that you’re not avoiding him, simply allowing the kids the chance to get close to him for a little while.

As if reading your mind, Dustin immediately plants himself in the chair next to Eddie, swiftly followed by Mike on his other side. Lucas sits next to Dustin, and Will slides in next to Mike. They chatter excitedly about campaigns and creatures and characters, and to see Eddie flanked by his adoring sheep brings a different kind of warmth to your chest.

The conversation remains light over dinner. Jokes are cracked, teasing occurs, and you’re pleased everyone’s getting a break from the tension and horrors.

The culinary delights are as good as you’d promised, and Eddie hums and moans at the delicious bounty before him. He remains pale, but he’s definitely regained some strength, vigour.

He glances over at you after taking an especially large mouthful of the meaty dish, and after you stop giggling at his uncouth antics he grins at you, tomato sauce staining his lips and the sides of his mouth, confirming,

“You’re right, this is goddamn heavenly!”

At another point he takes a particularly large bite of some soaked bread, and herb-flecked garlic butter oozes all over his thumb. Your eyes are drawn to it as he brings it to his mouth and presses it between his plump lips, and your eyes connect across the table as he sucks it off, twisting the digit and temporarily giving himself the most salacious pout. He spots you looking, and leaves his thumb in his mouth for what you consider is altogether too long before pulling it out with a pop. You gulp audibly and shift in your seat, grateful for the general clamour disguising your arousal.

You haven’t discussed as a group whether or where Eddie’s going to stay, though it seems to be unspoken between all of you that of course he’s going to remain here until you can all figure out what to do next. You decide not to raise the earlier conversation you had about him possibly leaving.

Dustin’s the first to broach the subject, asking,

“So, where’re you sleeping tonight, Eddie? You wanna come bunk with us in the warmest room in the house?”

He wiggles his eyebrows, attempting to extol the virtues of the open fire. His excitement is palpable, and you envy the optimism of youth that can make even the least appealing flat surfaces sound like an enticing bedspace.

You interject on Eddie’s behalf, suggesting,

“Hey guys, I know it would be the coolest sleepover ever, but I think Eddie might’ve earned the luxury of an actual bedroom after what he’s been through recently, don’t you think?”

Dustin looks crestfallen, but recovers quickly, agreeing with an only slightly pouty,

“I suppoooooose…”

Without looking at the others, you turn to Eddie and proffer,

“You’ll stay in my room, right?”

Eddie nods, his curls bouncing, as he agrees, perhaps a little too quickly,

“Of course, yep, that sounds… entirely fine.”

You miss how Robin and Steve glance at each other, Steve raising an eyebrow as Robin smirks at him.

There’s a quick clean up as dishes are done and pans are left to soak. Craving normalcy, you pile into the small living room and manage to make it through about two thirds of another of Keith’s loaned films before blinks get longer, eyes start to close and heads start to loll.

Robin chivvies the teens to get their sleeping bags set up, and there’s the typical grousing and bickering as everyone tries to use the bathroom at the same time. You think at one point three of the boys are trying to use the sink simultaneously, jostling each other and spitting far too enthusiastically in an effort to spray their compatriots. It’s a small nugget of frivolity that makes you consider the possibility that you might just all be okay.

Steve moves the small electric heater from his room back to yours, and you retrieve Eddie’s clothes from the drier. He slips into his Hellfire shirt and clean boxers as you change into your Garfield nightshirt, and then starts to grab blankets from beside you.

Confused, you question,

“What’re you doing?”

“Oh, uh… I just thought I’d sleep on the floor, y’know, give you the bed.”

You’re aghast.

“Don't be silly, Eddie. There’s plenty of room. Sleep up here, please? I mean, it’s not like we never have before. All those nights in the trailer when I got too baked to make it home, or you got too baked to drive me, or both…”

You both chuckle at the fond memory. You wonder whether you’ll ever let on that sometimes you were faking it, or deliberately took too many drags from the last blunt, just so you could spend the night with him, in his bed.

He throws the blankets back over and, smiling, climbs in beside you.

Turning off your bedside light, the room becomes bathed in the low, pale blue glow of the moonlight.

You both lie on your backs, staring at the ceiling. Somehow it’s easier to talk like this.

Thumbing the skull ring on your hand, you want to talk about the… other thing that happened, but have no idea how to bring it up.

As you’re ruminating, Eddie beats you to it.

“I hope it wasn’t weird? Earlier, I mean. It was…”

Your thighs clench a minuscule amount as you recall the feel of him between them, and the lightest brush of your lips on various parts of each other, and you finish his sentence for him.

“Nice. It was nice.”

Shit. It was so much more than nice, you think to yourself.

“I don’t want you to think I’m taking advantage of you, or anything. I guess I’m just a little touch-starved, y’know…?”

“I don’t. Honestly, I’m just glad to be close to you again. And if I made you feel uncomfortable then I’m really sorry…”

You can tell by the minor shifts in the covers and from his general demeanour that Eddie’s fidgeting with his hands.

“You didn’t, I promise.”

There’s another pause, and Eddie huffs out another small breath before he continues,

“Listen, I know the past twenty-four hours has basically been weirdness personified, and I don’t want to make it even weirder, but…can I… maybe… hold you?”

“I think weird is probably the understatement of the century, but it’s okay. And… I think I’d like that.”

You shift closer to one another under the covers, and you turn onto your side as Eddie moves himself to spoon behind you in an echo of your position last night.

He tentatively drapes his arm over you. He feels warmer than when you last did this, and more relaxed, and you press slightly backwards towards him as much as you dare, letting out a heavy, relaxed sigh.

You take Eddie’s hand in yours, threading your fingers with his, running yours over and between his digits and turning his forelimb this way and that. He hums into your hair and lets you move his arm however you like.

But you stop when you glance down in the dim light and spot a small tattoo on the inside of his wrist that you’ve not seen before. It’s definitely new. You know this because you’ve spent hours tracing over every inch of his inked skin, fantasising about following the images with more than just your eyes, imagining using your fingers, your hands, your lips, your tongue…

But this one’s not like any of his others. This one is small and simple, and looks like the outlines of two soft-cornered rectangles with a blocky W between them. It takes you a moment to process what you’re looking at, realising it looks a lot like one you’ve seen before. She’s had it covered with a delicate floral design (having connections in government really can get you anything, including underage ink), but you remember what it looked like.

Jane’s was a rectangle stacked on top of two horizontal lines, but when you looked at it from a different angle it became numbers: 011.

Looking at Eddie’s, you move the position of his arm. It turns the image a little, suddenly giving it more meaning, as you see it depicts a different number: 030.

Quietly, you croak,

“Eddie, what’s thi-?”

You don’t have a chance to process what any of it could mean as Eddie suddenly tenses, his head lifted from the pillows and his face flicking towards the window and back to you.

His brow furrows as he murmurs,

“Do you hear that?”

You strain your ears and hear nothing at first. But then, gradually, and from far away, you hear the disturbingly familiar sounds of flapping, shuffling and screeching.

Goosebumps appear on your arms and the back of your neck as you abruptly recall the only things you know of that make sounds like these:

Creatures from the Upside Down…

Prev: Prologue Part One

Series masterlist

My masterlist

Thanks so much for reading!

I really hope you enjoyed this part. The next one will probably be the last, and the taglist is open (as is my general one), just say the word, friend 🙂

Comments and reblogs mean the world to me - please let me know what you think!

A/N 2: Did anyone spot the LOTR, Captain America and/or Make Up references? 🧝‍♂️🪓👍 (Also, completely by accident, AQPDO too 😜, and ETA: this and THIS 🫠)

Taglist: @joejoequinnquinn @jamdoughnutmagician @ali-r3n @eddiemunsonshandcuffs @jasminelafleur @corrodedcoffincumslut @kthomps914 @iletmytittiestitty-russ @findmeincorneliastreet @tlclick73 @sapphire4082 @razzeith @cupid-club @storiesbyrhi @eris-rose-86 @micheledawn1975 @bl0ssomanddie @veemoon @sunshinepeachx @writinginthetwilight @curlyjoequinn @madaboutmunson @airen256 @idkitsem @em0220 @kookygranger @fanfics-i-find-here @the-unforgivenn @b3lladoonna @skrzydlak @comeonatmebruh @jamiecb66 @80s-addict @abellmunsonmovie @definitionwanderlust @amandahobblepot @daisy-munson @sheneedsrocknroll92 @maedesculpaeusoubi @munson-blurbs @wonderlanddreamer @daisy-munson @kellsck @eddiemunsonshandcuffs @babydollface1165

(I’m getting a bit tangled up with my taglists so I hope nobody’s mortally offended if I either have or haven’t included them!)

[vivwritescrappythings]

crack me open, swallow me whole

alpha!joel miller x omega!f!reader

part 1

you go on one patrol without joel and a band of raiders finds you

tw: a/b/o/ dynamics, afab reader, fem reader, alpha joel, omega reader, violence, blood, kidnapping, angst, comfort, SMUT, knotting, claiming bites, p in v sex, creampie, unprotected sex, dubcon, not proofread

wc: 4.5k

masterlist

MDNI!

--

The smell of other alphas made you feel like you were choking. Their acrid scent soaked the cloth they had forced between your teeth as a gag, tied behind your head so tight that your cheeks were starting to ache. A blindfold was over your eyes, thin enough that you could see the sun shining in the room.

It was disorienting, you had never been reduced to only your hearing and smell. Your wrists were bound behind you, arms contorted painfully around the back of a chair. 

You’d been slipping in and out of consciousness for a while now, not sure if days were passing or hours between each moment of wakefulness. It had been a while since you had stopped crying and trying to scream through the gag. There was no one to help you anyway, expending what little energy you had left was no use. 

If you were honest with yourself, you probably were going to die there. 

You sobbed when the clarity of your realization washed over you. You’d never see Joel again, or Ellie, or any of your friends back in Jackson. Hell, Joel wouldn’t even know what happened to you, just that you went on patrol without him once and you didn’t come back.

Joel.

He would surely blame himself. 

It was hard enough for you and Tommy to convince him to switch partners for the week so Joel could help him clear out a group of infected getting a little too close to town. The agreement had been that you’d do a simple patrol of the wall with Jason, a beta. It was the only way Joel would agree.

You didn’t even know what happened to Jason, the butt of a gun slamming down on the back of your head had the world turning sideways as you fell to the grass. The way your blood trickled into your hair cemented itself in your memory.

Whatever happened to Jason, you hoped he didn’t suffer much. 

Your head still throbbed like a heartbeat, somewhere in the recesses of your mind you wondered if you should be worried about having a concussion. A disembodied voice you couldn’t recognize reminded you to not sleep if you were concussed—but it was too late for that, you didn’t even know how long you’d been unconscious for. 

It may have been better if you didn’t wake up again, easier that way.

“Hey, doll.” The voice made you flinch. You hadn’t even heard him come into the room. A hand brushed over your neck, cold fingers pressing against your scent gland until you whined into the gag.

He laughed cruelly as you tried to tilt your head away, the chair creaking as you struggled against your bonds. The rusty smell of blood filled your nose as he stood close. It seemed to cling to the alpha, you still didn’t know if he just never cleaned up or if it was his natural scent. 

“It’s crazy that no alpha has snatched you up yet,” he whispered, his warm breath on your ear making goosebumps prickle up your spine. “I’m tempted to sink my teeth into you.”

You wished you had let Joel do it. Even if everything ended the same way, you found yourself desperate for some proof that you were his and he was yours. He had never asked to, never pressured you. You found yourself working your way to asking him as your relationship hit a year mark. 

But you didn’t, still scared.

The stranger pressed his bared teeth against the curve of your neck. You screamed into the gag, the sound dying into a sob as you managed to shuffle the chair a bit, nearly tipping it over. Being forced into a claim was your nightmare, your instincts warring against your mind. You didn’t want to be bonded to a monster like him.

The pressure of his teeth lifted, his quiet chuckling was barely audible over the sound of you hyperventilating through the gag. “The boys would kill me if I did, though,” he murmured, clicking his tongue against his teeth like a disappointed mother. “They’ve never been with an omega before, I wouldn’t want to ruin that for them.”

You didn’t know how many “boys” there were, you could only recognize the alpha leaning over your shoulder. He was the only voice you’d heard, but sometimes you could hear laughter and smell other people in the room. There wasn’t an omega among them aside from you.

He grabbed your face, fingers digging into your cheeks and forcing your jaw open. You tried to wrench your head away, knowing what came next before you felt the pill tablet slip over the gag and onto your tongue. 

The first time it happened you had spent so long trying to spit it out around the gag that it dissolved on your tongue. You swallowed the pill, too exhausted at this point to keep fighting it. It was hard to keep resisting the longer you were trapped, hope bleeding out of you.

Your mind swam as the drug settled in, curling up heavy and warm in your bones as your head started to fall back, body giving in to sleep as it beckoned you. The fear mellowed into a sense of unease, just enough to pull you under the surface. 

—

“What do you mean Adam is missing?” 

Commotion woke you up. The clash of too many voices disoriented you—you didn’t even know that many people were a part of the compound. Arguing came in layers, a few voices shouting over the rest as they vied for control of the conversation. 

“He went back by Jackson, wanted to loot the body of that beta we left there. I told him it was a stupid idea but it was useless.” He trailed off, other voices filling the silence. 

Poor Jason.

“Well those two big alphas were busy culling infected, I doubt they found him.”

You clumsily realized they were talking about Joel and Tommy. Hope made you wonder if they did find him. If they could find you.

“You’re a fucking idiot! You should have stopped him!”

You could hear a scuffle, shoes scrabbling across the concrete floor and grunts. The dull smack of a body hitting the ground made you flinch beneath the blindfold. He sounded alive, groaning.

“Should we kill her?”

Your heart dropped. Panic swelled in your throat, choking you as you tried not to squirm under the weight of an unknown number of eyes on you. 

“Not yet, we don’t even know if there is anything to worry about.”

“Yeah, why would those alphas come after her?”

“The same reason we took her, dumbass. There’s not that many omegas.”

Your head was spinning, your parched lips sore around your gag. Joel could find you. He was just as bad as these men before you knew him, he’d told you about the years he and Tommy and Tess were hunters. There was more blood on Joel’s hands than you could have ever guessed, but that meant he could think like the monsters that took you.

The silence of agreement washed over the room. “Well what have we been waiting for, then?”

Then you picked up the sound of gunshots outside. There weren’t many, maybe one or two guns blasting followed by shouts. You were too disoriented to make out the words, but they sounded frantic.

But you were finally alone, or at least not the center of attention. You wriggled your wrists in the bonds as much as you could, your teeth clenching around the gag as you nearly dislocated shoulders pulling them from the back of the chair. You arched off the seat like a bow, using your head to get your arms off the rest of the way, trying to resist the urge to cry as the metal dug into your biceps.

You grasped frantically behind you, lifting the chair out of the ropes around your ankles. It was hard not to sob as you stumbled on your feet. The gravel and broken glass dug crunched beneath your feet as you moved blindly through the room.

The gunshots were louder as you moved forward, running into doorways and walls as you fought to place one foot in front of the other. Your pace was odd, limping as you tried to jog without throwing off your balance. You must have twisted your ankle when you got knocked out. It twinged with each step, begging you to stop, to take your time.

But you couldn’t.

There was too much yelling, too many gunshots. You steered yourself away from them, having to rub your shoulder along the hallway wall to orient yourself. Each turn was counted in an attempt to keep you from running in circles. 

Your breaths were labored through the gag, each inhale thick and musty. The lack of food was getting to you, your head spinning with each step. 

You’d given yourself an impossible task. That was quickly becoming more apparent to you as each hallway brought you to another and each door led to another room. You could only imagine the size of the compound, wondering if the building used to be an office or an apartment complex. 

You pressed a door open with your hip, a cool breeze buffeting against your cheeks. The doorjamb caught your foot as you stepped over the threshold, sending you stumbling into empty air.

The wind was knocked out of you as you landed on your back on the last step, your shoulder blades and head in the dirt as you tried to wheeze through the gag. Pain ricocheted through your hands, still bound at the small of your spine as you choked like a fish out of water. 

The gunshots were louder outside. Outside. You made it.

If you could just find cover and some way to cut the ropes around your wrists you could get home. Hope twisted in your chest as you forced yourself to turn onto your knees, your cheek pressed against the ground as you got your bearings.

You took a few deep breaths, grunting as you lifted yourself to your feet. The only sense of direction you had were the stairs leading back inside the compound. You hesitantly stepped forward, trying to feel for any obstacles with your feet as you prayed no one saw you. 

The gunshots died down, eventually fading into silence. That was worse.

You got more frantic, kicking in front of you with each step as you tried to pick up your pace.

The sound of heavy footsteps to your right made shivers run up your spine. You screamed into your gag, running full out away from your pursuer. Caution was thrown to the wind, your steps lengthening as you barreled toward the unknown.

The deep voice of an alpha shouted, the sound of it almost making you trip. You couldn’t make out the words over the sound of your heart pounding in your chest. 

Your foot caught on a pipe, the metal ringing hollowly. The ground hit you so hard that you were stunned, sobbing into the gag. Patches of grass tickled at your nose, making you roll onto your back as you hyperventilated.

The steps drew closer, heavy and even. 

“Baby!”

Maybe you were dying, bleeding out onto the dirt. You could imagine the blood pouring so quickly that you were starting to hallucinate Joel being there. 

“Baby… Jesus,” the voice repeated, so close to you. You cried into the gag, heels scrabbling over the ground as you tried to find purchase in the dirt. 

Joel’s heart broke as he saw you. He’d never seen you so frightened, blindfolded and gagged as you scrambled in the dirt. Your clothes were torn and dirty, he could smell the dried blood on you as he got close. 

He could smell the fear on you.

He stepped over the exposed length of pipe that had tripped you up, crouching over you. “Baby, baby shh, shh,” he murmured, trying to comfort you, “It’s okay, it’s me. It’s Joel.”

You were screaming, kicking at the alpha with your feet. Only a few landed, bouncing off his body as though they hardly mattered. He was so close he felt warm, your knee smashing into his leg as he crouched down over you. The will to survive filled you.

Then he grabbed your head in one large hand, holding you still as he pressed his wrist to your nose. His hand felt too warm against your skin. You cringed away from his touch, holding your breath until your lungs burned.

It was the only thing he could think of to show that it was him, your Joel. Not some monstrous alpha that took you.

His familiar scent filled your lungs with each breath. The fight died out of you fast enough, your surrender prompting him to carefully lift your head up enough for him to untie the gag and blindfold, pulling both scraps of cloth from you.

You blinked at the overcast sky, reeling from the sudden brightness as you blinked harshly. Joel was little more than a blur above you as you shut your mouth, trying to wet your sandpaper tongue.

He knew what you needed, he always knew. 

His canteen was pressed to your lips in just a moment, a few sips of cool water sliding down your throat as Joel’s free hand anchored between your shoulder blades, lifting you into a seated position. You drank greedily, water running down your chin and soaking into your clothes.

“Slow down, you’ll choke,” Joel murmured, moving in close. He pulled you into his lap, resting you on his quads as he leaned you against his broad chest. You stank of other alphas, his nose wrinkling as he nuzzled at your temple. But he could actually breathe again for the first time in days.

“Joel,” you whined, turning your face into his neck. Tears rolled down your cheeks, soaking into his flannel shirt as you settled against him.

“I know,” he answered, reaching around you to cut the rope off your wrists. Your skin was raw beneath them, his fingertips tracing around the edges of the irritation. God, he never should’ve let you go without him.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” Joel whispered, his blood-stained hands pulling you to his chest. You twisted in his hold, your arms wrapping around his shoulders. “This is my fault.”

You sniffled, holding onto Joel as you buried your face in his chest. “S’not your fault,” you mumbled through tears. There was no way you could blame him.

Joel huffed, trying to hold himself together. He rested his chin on top of your head, thumbs rubbing circles on your skin as he rocked you slowly. “If I was there, this wouldn’t have happened. I wouldn’t have let it. Woulda had to kill me before they could get to you.”

He took a deep breath, looking up at the sky for a second. God didn’t seem real to him since the outbreak started, hell, he even doubted before that. But he started praying the second they found Jason’s body outside the wall. It ran through his mind like a mantra for the past three days, he was constantly praying that he found you alive.

“Thought you were dead,” Joel found himself admitting, voice cracking as he spoke. “I was so fuckin’ worried about you.”

You pulled your face from his neck, your chapped lips searching for his. “I’m here, didn’t lose me,” you said softly, stamping your lips over his. You could hear his next question before it formed on his lips.

“M’not bit,” you added, taking his broad hand and smoothing it over the intact skin over the scent gland on your neck.

You could hear the relief in his exhale, his fingers curling around the back of your neck as his thumb pressed your scent gland. He brought your forehead to his, taking a deep breath as his umber eyes slipped closed. His aquiline nose bumped yours and ran up your cheek. 

The breeze was chilly, making you shift closer to Joel. You ended up straddling his waist, your hands connected behind his neck. Neediness settled low in your stomach.

“Alpha,” you whined softly, fingers combing through his thick curls. 

Joel’s dark eyes opened, his brows bunching. You never called him that in the year you two had been together, even during your heats. “Yeah, baby?” Joel asked, his wide hands finding your hips as he kept you steady. 

The gravel in his tone made you keen, your heart in your throat as you nuzzled into the hinge of his jaw. “I don’t smell like you anymore,” you mumbled, voice soft and sweet and thick with tears. You reeked of alphas you didn’t recognize, the smell of them making you feel sick. 

Joel let out a breath through his nose, nodding. “I know, but we’ll get you home and clean you up.”

“I thought I’d never see you again.” You sounded distraught, tears gathering on your lash line as you pulled back to look at Joel. His heart ached, his fingers digging into your hips as he pulled you tight against him. You sniffled, lips parting as you took a deep breath. “The whole time I just wished that I let you claim me.”

His heart stopped. Instinct made his teeth itch to sink into you, to finally have you completely. But instead he ground his teeth together, jaw flexing beneath his beard. “You don’t mean that,” he said, “s’just the shock.”

He wished he was wrong. 

You shook your head, slanting your lips over his as you rolled your hips. Joel was already hardening beneath you, his hands guiding your movements. “Joel.”

That was a tone he recognized all too well, fire igniting in his chest like you’d set off a bomb.

“I’m so happy you’re alive,” he mumbled as he yanked you to him, the words muffled against your mouth. The kiss was needy, teeth clashing and noses practically bruising cheeks. 

You wanted him, wanted to feel safe and taken care of and consumed. He started pushing your jacket off your shoulders. “You smell like those fuckers,” Joel admitted as his mouth found purchase just beneath the hinge of your jaw.

“Only want to smell like you,” you whimpered, yanking your shirt over your head and tossing it to the dirt. You should have been more concerned—you were still within walking distance of the compound in broad daylight—but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

Joel groaned, calloused fingers gripping at you before his hand dipped beneath the fabric of your sports bra. “I’d rip all of them apart again if I had the chance.”

Again. You frantically reached for his belt as he sucked marks up and down your throat, scraping his blunt teeth over the delicate skin. The tease of it sent shivers down your spine, making your stiff fingers fumble with the buckle before opening it. 

There were specs of blood on his canvas coat, you noticed them across his face and hands. It didn’t faze you.

Joel took off his jacket, spreading it out on the dirt before pitching forward, lying you back on the body-warmed fabric. He unbuttoned your worn jeans, yanking them and your panties halfway down your thighs as he pushed your knees to your chest.

“Just as pretty as I remembered,” he murmured, thumb dropping to your clit and rubbing tight circles over it. 

You let out a broken moan, legs twitching in the confines of your jeans. The waistband of your pants dug into your thighs, keeping them from spreading too far apart. “Joel, I need you inside…” you begged, grabbing at his hands desperately.

Normally he took his time with you, opening you up on his fingers and tongue first. You couldn’t care less about it, aching to be connected with him.

He didn’t argue with you, his eyes getting immeasurably darker as he undid his pants. Your mouth watered as he pulled himself out, cunt clenching around nothing as you looped your forearm behind your knees and held them close to your chest. His weathered hand stroked over his hard cock, precome already pooling at the tip.

Joel’s head was spinning, the relief of finding you quickly deteriorating into lust as his free hand slotted over yours on the backs of your knees, bending you in half for him as he rubbed the head of his cock over your swollen clit. He loved the way you whined, your spine arching off his jacket as your lashes fluttered against your cheekbones. If he was a stronger man he’d keep teasing you, let you get slick and soaked and make you beg until you were blue in the face.

But he couldn’t do that to you, not when he was just happy that you were alive.

“Calm down, baby,” he murmured, his voice a low rasp rather than soothing. His calloused thumb stroked over the back of your hand as the blunt head of his cock snagged your entrance.

You both let choked moans into the open air as Joel sank into you, something about the stretch around his thick cock made you feel complete. It left you gasping for breath, your free hand fisting in his jacket beneath you as you watched his eyes squeeze shut. You wanted to reach up and smooth your thumb over the creases between his furrowed brows.

All he could think about was how you were so soaked, pulsing and hot and perfect for him. It took a moment for Joel to come back to himself, his head tilting skyward as he tried to catch his breath. You were moaning with each thrust, the perfect picture of wanton lust as you looked up at him.  

His belt clinked each time it smacked the back of your thigh, neither of you could be bothered to stop long enough for him to pull his pants further down his legs. It added something, the scrape of the coarse denim he wore against your sensitive skin sent electricity prickling up your spine.

Beneath him like this, you felt like you were both everything and nothing at the same time. You were melting, nerves on fire as he mercilessly knocked against your g-spot. A numbness had settled over you for anything that didn’t include Joel. It was easy for you to give into it, any connection between your body and mind vanishing into thin air.

You were so beautiful, needy and insatiable as you took everything Joel gave you. He could smell your slick dripping from your pussy and pooling where your ass met his jacket. The wet squelch of your cunt was heavenly, obscene and loud as your arousal gave your desperation away.

Joel pressed forward, shifting your fabric-confined knees toward your right shoulder as he flattened you beneath the bulk of his body. The air was forced from you as you were squashed beneath his barrel chest, your mewls becoming borderline pathetic. 

Each thrust sent pleasure racing through you, your free hand coming to twist in the salt and pepper curls behind his ear. He’d been letting them grow longer per your request, your desire to spin his curls over your fingers enough to convince him to give in. You relished in it, tugging him into the hollow of your throat. 

“Please, alpha,” you whined, letting yourself slip into a place of submission you spent your whole life suppressing. His teeth were so close, the scratch of his facial hair against your neck enticing as you tilted your head.

He could feel you start to flutter around his cock, your voice taking that pitchy quality it always got when you were close to the edge. It was starting to become one of his favorite sounds in the world. 

“Come for me, baby,” Joel growled into your neck, laving his tongue over your scent gland. He was drooling, all too eager to give in to his instincts and bite you. You probably tasted delicious, sweet and sugary with a tangy aftertaste of blood that stoked a fire in his belly that he was almost too ashamed to acknowledge.

He shoved his hand between your bodies, fingers swirling over your clit. The way your eyes widened made pride thump in his chest. Your sweet little whines threatened to make him come on the spot, his teeth gritting together.

“Alpha,” you whimpered, tears starting to sting at your eyes. You didn’t know submission could feel so good, so natural. It almost made you regret making Joel wait so long for it.

Joel could hear the twinge of emotion in your voice, that drop of anxiety you always carried with you. He fucked into you with renewed vigor, fingertips pressing tight circles to your clit. “I’m here, I’ll always be here, omega,” he promised, the words muffled by the thin skin on your throat. 

Omega.

You came so hard you sobbed, his thrusts became shallow as you clenched around him like a vise. Honey dripped from your mind to your chest, spreading to your extremities as you bucked helplessly against him. It was no use even as your thighs pressed against his abdomen, the weight of him keeping you pinned and contorted for him.

Joel groaned low in his throat, squeezing his eyes shut. Your cunt pulsed around him, tightening and releasing, the mechanics of nature drawing him toward his own release. He could hardly keep his head on straight, grabbing your hip as he pounded into you.

“P-please,” you whined, voice tight and airy. He knew what you wanted, what you were begging for. 

He’d been wanting to give it to you from the moment you showed up at Jackson, ragged and half-starved and the fiercest omega he had ever set eyes on. It felt more like a dream than reality: biting you, making you his.

It seemed only fair, considering just how long he’d been yours.

“B-,” you stammered out, clinging to Joel desperately as you felt his cock start to kick and spit inside you. 

He shushed you, the bridge of his nose pressing into your neck as he shadowed you. His hips snapped against yours, a deep rumble pulling from his chest that melted into a moan as his knot pressed into you, locking him inside as he filled you up with his come.

It was just as he imagined when he bit into your neck, the sweet taste of sugar and devotion filling his mouth as you let out a high-pitched mewl. The aftertaste of your blood was welcomed, sharp and salty as he pulled away to lap at the wound on your throat. Your little whimpers were like music to his ears as he ground his hips against yours, knot pressing the insides of your cunt in a way that made your eyes roll back.

He kept you there for a while, your frenzied coupling becoming something languid. 

The peace he felt mystified him, something he didn’t realize he longed for until he looked down at you, thumbs rubbing over your cheekbones. His omega, with a bloody mark on your scent gland to prove it. 

[corphneux707]

Little Duckling

[Ratio x Child! Reader, Platonic]

Summary: Dr. Ratio takes responsibility of you after an experiment goes awry. Which you, a child, gets isekai’d into the work of Honkai Star Rail. Based on my headcanons here.

To add: This fic is COMPLETELY platonic and gender neutral. Readers age is not specified at all and there is no use of Y/N. New found family type of shit. Not proofread lol.

“Seems like you’re gonna be picked up late, bud.” Your teacher says after putting the call down with your parents. She gently takes your small hands and leads you to the classroom, letting you sit down on the giant rug where all the toys are.

You felt a little sad. Your parents are late again. It's been a long day for you and you want to take a rest now! But looking at your teacher, you didn’t mind spending more time with her. 

Noticing your foul mood getting better, she gives you a toy bear to play with in the meantime. “Here you go. I’ll call someone to watch over you while I go get something. Be good, okay?” You giggle as she ruffles your hair before leaving briefly. Now you’re left alone in the big classroom with a stuffed bear.

“Hello, Mr. Bear” Its stubby paws gesture to a small wave as you puppet it with your hands. A small smile escapes your lips as you play with it more. Your imagination becomes much more creative with imagining scenarios with the bear.

Perhaps you’ll take it in a cool adventure! Or.. or.. maybe somewhere scary where you defeat the evil monster!! Or go solve a mystery with Mr. Bear as a sidekick! How about all of it? Yeah!!!! You pat yourself on the back for being a smart detective in thinking about how you’ll (spend your time) go on an adventure!

Your playtime is cut short when an odd gust of wind blows past you. You look behind and a small crack of whatever is in the air. It pulsates with a soft glow, almost like it's beckoning you to come closer. An ominous feeling creeps up onto your spine and you decide that it isn’t a good thing.

The anomaly suddenly breaks apart in a maelstrom of whirring winds sucking anything nearby. From chairs, tables, toys and everything. The classroom trembles and glass starts to crack.

You act on instinct but struggle to stand up, feeling weaker and weaker. The lights flicker constantly, almost in the same erratic rhythm as your beating heart.Your senses start to dull from the sheer intensity of the situation. Tears threatening to spill from the corner of your eyes and yet only to be sucked in by whatever it is behind you.

“It’s hard to breathe-'' More of your tears are sucked in. Your steps to the door get lighter and lighter, till you’re practically in the air getting sucked towards the portal. And as quickly as you get sucked in, quickly your consciousness fades.

You wake up groggy with a faint ringing in your ear. Soon that ringing turns into indiscernible voices. That’s when you decide to open your eyes. The first thing you see is the blinding lights above you. You blink it all away and focus more properly in the room that you’re in. Clean white room with many digital images on the screen. The occasional beeping of machines filling the void of silence. 

Your lips feel oddly moist. Looking down, an oxygen mask is placed on you, connected to a machine that makes the rhythmic beeps that you hear. You try to try to remove the mask with your hands but that's when you notice a wire inside connected from your hand. Your unease becomes more palpable and your gaze follows the wire connecting to a bag of fluids hung on a rack.

Your breaths start to accelerate. Where the hell were you? Why are you here? What happened? Where are your parents? Where are your siblings? Where is home? Your heart hammers against your ribcage. Sweat trickling down against your forehead, despite the coolness of the room. Irrationality and fear colliding with each other in a dizzying storm.

The machine beside you beeps louder and louder. Incessantly dulling your head to think properly. Your chest starts to tighten and your sobs are unable to escape from your lips because of the bile forming in your throat. Tears well in your eyes- through your blurry vision you reach out for something. Anything.

Your hand is enveloped by something warm. It pulls you in, surrounding you completely in a dull embrace. You shut your eyes to focus on slowing your heart rate, the dullness becoming calming. Still, the intensity of your panic lingers longer. Your hands tremble, yet hold on to the warmth with an iron fist. Scared of letting it go and possibly losing it forever. 

Your senses start to come back and you hear the muffled voice of someone. With the crash of fatigue washing over you, it becomes a lullaby for you. You follow each faint word with a held breath and exhaling slowly. You settle to lean further into the warmth that envelops you, letting you fall asleep with ease.

By the time you wake up again, the warmth is already gone. Instead being poorly replaced by a blanket on you. The blinding lights back again to bite your eyes. You wince and blink rapidly to adjust yourself more. When you try to rub your eyes, your hands are held firmly by someone else.

You squint your eyes to look at them, a shade of purple is something you noticed first. Then a click of a tongue after. “Turn off half of the lights.” A man says and quickly the strain on your eyes is uplifted.

You finally adjust and you see that what was connected to your hand is now gone. But now you can also see him clearly. ‘Huh, so the purple you saw was actually his hair.’ The first thing that came to mind after noticing his hair was to greet the man in front of you. You open your mouth but your throat tightens. No voice comes out of you, so you opt to close your mouth and nod your head instead since your hands are still held back by him.

The man removes his hands from yours carefully, as if anticipating any form of sudden movement from you. You look at him, an odd pair of reddish-pink eyes looking back at you. The reflection of the light highlights the yellow ring around his pupil, consuming you in a hypnotic gaze.

Perhaps because of the peculiarity of his eyes is the reason why you’re so calm at the moment as he backs away to give you ample space to examine you properly. His gaze still unwavering, although with a hint of softness. There's a deliberate sound of calmness in the air as he asks, “Are you feeling well?”

You nod wordlessly in response, not in the mood to speak. He hums in acknowledgement before turning to the other person near the doorway of the room. You see the other person visibly flinch from his gaze and immediately leaves after excusing themself from the room.

Once alone with you, he takes a much more intentional pace in his actions as he takes out an ID from pocket and hands it to you. He points to it then to himself. “I am Doctor. Veritas Ratio. Your current doctor.” He speaks slowly, enunciating each word to make sure you understand properly.

You repeat his name in his head. Veritas Ratio. It's a very unique name that makes your curiosity spark up. He is, afterall, very peculiar. Different hair color, different eyes, different name? How very peculiar indeed!

Your curiosity must've shown when he speaks, “I will entertain your questions in the future. First-” he pauses before giving you a tablet with a blank form needing your information. “Since you can’t speak yet, you will introduce yourself with this”

You take the tablet with sheer astonishment at its sleek, high-tech design. Ratio guides you in the form. “Surely you are adept in inputting?” His question is answered with the furrow of your brows and the tilting of your head as you try to piece together what he meant. 

A small part of Ratio finds endearment from the face of your frustration. He pushes it down to focus on the matter at hand. He leans closer and taps on a blank line on the form, a keyboard appearing on the tablet. Your mood turns from frustration to one of unexpected clarity.

It works like a normal tablet- just looks more techy, you guess. You type your name slowly with your two index fingers. Each press is paired with a beep that amuses you to no end. You signal him that you finished typing by facing the front of the tablet to him with an expectant gaze. Ratio hums, acknowledging you by taking the tablet and reading your name aloud. 

Now it was his turn to look at you expectantly, as if a silent question if he’d pronounced your name correctly. A surge of delight fills you as you nod excitedly with a big smile. Ratio nods at you back. Although his face is stoic, there's a twinge of amusement from him as he watches your eyes twinkle by simply reading your name aloud. 

“Children are truly simple minded.” Ratio concluded audibly. When he notices your head tilted at him, he dismisses you, explaining that it was nothing. He hands you the tablet back and guides you to the rest of the questions in the form. 

Age. “Little one, how old are you?” Ratio asks with a raised brow. You hold up your fingers to show him how old you were. He points to the number you’re supposed to press. Mentally, he notes down the fact that you can count. He just doesn’t know how far. Perhaps he should teach you personally? Who knows what kind of fallacious education any other teacher would provide? Perhaps even… So on and so forth.

You stare at Ratio who is clearly deep in thought. You don’t know why, but currently your empty stomach doesn’t care when it growls loudly. Your face glows red with mortification before turning away from Ratio quickly. Clearly the hospital bed will be your new grave from all this embarrassment.

Your mind changes immediately though after a large hand is gently placed atop of your head. “I’ll be back with some food.” Ratio says before getting up and quickly leaving. You wait for him patiently, and to be fair, it didn’t really take a long time. As if he’s already anticipated your hunger.

The door opens to reveal Ratio holding a tray of food. He sits down next to you and you can clearly see the.. Uh.. food? Much to Ratio’s dismay, your mind quickly changes again. He observes how you looked so appalled with the food he brought. 

Why does it look like green sludge? Is he trying to feed you poison? When he brings a spoonful of whatever he brought, you turn away with a grumble. But your conscience gnaws at you. You wanna be a good kid like how your teacher said! So you, with an unbroken-probably-slightly-broken will, turn back to Ratio who still holds the spoonful to your lips. You gulp cartoonishly, mentally preparing yourself for the battle of your tastebuds.

Quickly, you take a sip and surprisingly it tastes… nothing! It's soft and easy to swallow but that's about it. Nothing special about the meal. You decide to suck it up and keep eating the small spoonfuls that Ratio gives. When you finally finish the meals, a sigh of relief escapes from you when he offers you a glass of water to wash the ‘taste’ away. 

Nonetheless, the battle of your tastebuds is over! Huzzah! But wait- you are immediately distracted by a small, yellow, glossy pudding. Your eyes light up in excitement at the sight of sweet goodness. The pudding glistens as Ratio scoops a small spoonful and feeds to you. You, of course, take a bite as fast as you can.

You savor the velvety sweetness but comforting taste that completely melts in your mouth. Each spoonful fed, the messier you get, causing Ratio to sigh, “You were eating properly earlier and now here you are with a mess on your face.” You raised your hand to wipe your face but Ratio was quicker to wipe the sides of your mouth with a wet wipe. “Let me. You’ll only make a bigger mess” He grumbles. You giggle, the first time Ratio hears your voice.

“Oh? You even have the gall to laugh at the mess you made? The sugar must’ve gotten to you already. Perhaps no more pudding for you.” 

A horrified gasp escapes your lips and immediately you grab his sleeve and tug on it over and over. You stare at Ratio with big eyes that shimmers with apologies and hope for him not to confiscate the pudding you haven’t finished yet. The more that Ratio stares, the more impossible it felt for him to say no to you. 

Although to you, he looked stoic as he was before but you came at him with some prayers and a dream to eat pudding again. Your silent pleading finally works when Ratio sighs and gives you another spoonful of pudding. “Wasting food is not a good thing after all.” You nod, this time you eat carefully so as to not make a mess, lest you give him a chance to take your pudding away again.

You take a small rest to digest properly while Ratio is out to put the empty trays away. Perhaps it was out of boredom when you yawned. By the time Ratio comes back, you were already asleep. He sighs and comes closer to properly tuck you in the bed. Once finished, he just stares at you and thinks about what he needs to do next when you wake up.

A walk in the hospital's garden, some basic hygiene, and probably a place for you to stay. Yeah, sounds good to him. But first, he’s gotta complain to the resource management about the shitty blankets they have. Ratio stands up, turning the lights off on the way to the door. Leaving you with his coat tucked around you.

A/N: That's it for now folks! This is going to have multiple chapters that'll follow my headcanons so its not over yet :3. Thank you so much for reading! A like or a reblog would be very appreciated.