#i just want to fall asleep under a light breeze and when I wake up i rewind and sleep some more | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

v6quewrlds · 5 days ago

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❝ n side, a. iosivas. ❞ ‎ ‎ ┉

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀summary: it's the night after the night that didn't happen. andrei is on a mission to make it happen.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀author's note: listen... that summary makes zero sense because i'm finishing this at one in the morning. this is the second part to bad liar <3 this is also long asf, been writing this for nearly a month lol. day nine of my no nut november series.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀warnings: smut, please do not interact with my work if you are under 18. friends to lovers, andrei is a simp part 2, language, college setting, first dates, first times, protected sex, oral (male receiving), slight overstim, fingering.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀pairing: andrei iosivas x reader.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀word count: 7.8k.

The TV's blue glow had been replaced with the soft light of dawn peeking through your curtains before you arose. You blinked awake to find Andrei's arms still wrapped around you, his face smushed cutely against the pillow that somehow ended up on his side during the night. You lay there, watching the rise and fall of his chest, the quiet of the early morning a stark contrast to the chaos of the night before. The room was still, your friends sprawled across the floor and chair like discarded ragdolls.

Carefully, you remove yourself from his embrace, not wanting to wake him yet. You padded over to the window and pushed the curtains aside before lifting the window open, the cool morning air brushing against your skin. The sky was a soft pink, hinting at the promise of a beautiful autumn day. You felt a pang of guilt for your skipped MCAT studies but pushed it aside, telling yourself that one night off wouldn't hurt.

Kaia stirred from the chair, her eyes squinting against the light. "What time is it?" she mumbled, her voice groggy.

You glanced at the clock on your nightstand. "A little past six."

Kaia groaned, rubbing her eyes. "Why the fuck are you up so early? You don't have class until 10."

You shrugged. "Couldn't sleep." You glanced back at Andrei, still peacefully asleep. "Besides, I need to get ready for that MCAT prep class I'm taking."

Kaia rolled her eyes. "Always the overachiever," she teased, stretching her limbs. "But seriously, are you okay with all this?" She nodded towards the makeshift camp of sleeping bodies scattered around the room. "I know it gets overwhelming sometimes when everyone crashes here. I don’t want you to feel like we’re taking advantage of you."

You couldn't help but smile as you studied the scene. "Yeah, it's fine. They're all just comfortable." You turned back to the window, the cool breeze from the opened window ruffling your hair. "And honestly, it's kind of nice to have everyone so close."

Kaia sat up, her eyes searching yours. "And what about Andrei?" she whispered, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "Y'all was looking real comfortable last night. Kissin' and shit in the middle of the room." Her tone changing to poke fun at her friend's change in behavior.

You felt the blush creep up your neck. "It's not like that," you protested weakly, but Kaia only giggled, not fooled for a second. "Okay, it's kind of like that." you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. Kaia hummed in response, standing up and walking over to poke at Faith who was drooling on Javi's chest.

"Kai," you hissed as she turned around. "Pinky promise you won't tell anyone what I'm about to tell you?"

Your best friend's eyes widened and she leaned in closer, holding up her pinky. "Pinky promise," she whispered back, a grin spreading across her face.

"I wanna fuck him, so bad," you confessed in a whisper, your eyes on Andrei. You could barely get the full sentence out before the two of you dissolved into hushed laughter. Kaia's head fell back as she tried to silence her giggles. "Girl, I was so close to jumping his bones last night," you continued, her voice a mix of amazement and frustration.

Kaia gave you a knowing look. "Why didn't you?"

"Because, Kaia," you whispered, "I don't know if he was just drunk or if he really means it. I don't want to mess up our friendship."

Kaia rolled her eyes playfully. "You've been crushing on him for months, he's been obsessed with you for years, and now you're gonna get all 'what if' on me? If he didn't mean it, he wouldn't have been so persistent all this time," she whispered back, her voice filled with amusement and a hint of understanding.

You sighed, leaning your forehead against the cool glass of the window. "But what if we do it and it's terrible? What if we ruin everything?"

Kaia's eyes softened as she leaned against the wall. "You're the smartest girl I know," she said, her voice low enough not to wake the others. "You'll figure it out, keep him in line. Just go for it."

Your gaze drifted back to Andrei. He had rolled over in his sleep and was now facing you, his features relaxed and peaceful. You felt a warmth spread through your chest. "You think?" you whispered.

Kaia nodded firmly. "I know. Just don't overthink it, bae. Sometimes, you just gotta take the risk." She yawned and stood up fully, stretching her arms over her head. "Do you have anything to eat in here or did they eat everything?"

You laughed, shaking your head. "We should pop into Dunkin', grab some breakfast." You turned to grab your keys, carefully stepping over Malik's outstretched legs. "Malik and Faith both have an 8AM, so they'll probably be up soon anyways."

The two of you made your way out of the dorm, the brisk morning air a welcome dose of reality after the hazy warmth of the night before. The quiet hallways were a stark contrast to the loud festivities you had left behind in the clubs. As you walked to and from the Dunkin' Donuts, your mind swirled with thoughts of Andrei and what your relationship might become.

When you returned, the room was a little more chaotic. Malik was up, rummaging through your mini-fridge for something edible, while Javi and Faith were still entangled at the foot of the bed, their breathing steady and deep. Andrei was sitting up in bed, scrolling through his phone with a sleepy smile on his face. He looked up as you and Kaia entered, his eyes immediately finding yours.

"Good morning," he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep.

You couldn't help but feel a thrill at his greeting. It felt intimate, like you were the only two people in the room. "Good morning," you replied, handing him a bag of his go-to sandwich—a sausage, egg, and cheese on a croissant—and an apple juice. "How did you sleep?"

He took the food with a grateful smile, his eyes lingering on yours before glancing down. "Surprisingly well," he said, his cheeks coloring slightly. "Your bed's pretty comfy."

"Do you got food for me, too?" Malik called out from the mini-fridge, his voice muffled by the fridge door.

You tossed him a bag with a roll of your eyes. "You know the drill, Malik. You eat then you get the fuck out."

Malik caught the bag with one hand and pulled out a donut with the other. "But I'm your favorite," he protested with a mouthful.

"Not after last night," Javi retorted with a laugh as he was finally shaken out of his sleep from the smell of greasy breakfast food. Faith stretched, looking around the room with bleary eyes.

You balled up a napkin and tossed it at Javi playfully. "You're all my favorite, but you're all still leaving after you eat," you said, your smile not quite reaching your eyes as you turned back to Andrei.

The room grew quieter as you all ate, the occasional laugh piercing through the silence. As you all finished, you cleared your throat, looking at the clock. "I really do need to get ready for that MCAT class," you said, trying to keep you voice light. "So love you all but please leave."

Andrei took the hint and stood up, stretching. "Alright, I'll walk you there, it's on my way to my dorm," he offered, his voice hopeful. You felt a thrill at his words, the promise of a moment alone with him making your heart race. Kaia smirked as she watched them, nudging Malik who was still scarfing down the last of his food.

"Come on y'all, let's get going," Kaia said, shooing the rest of the group out of the room. "We don't want to ruin their morning after."

Malik and Javi groaned, reluctantly peeling themselves off the floor. Faith giggled, her cheeks flushed as she looked at Javi. "You two are adorable," she whispered to you with a knowing wink as she slid past. Andrei could only blush to himself as he avoided eye contact with the other guys who made kissy faces as they left.

Once the room had emptied, Andrei helped you gather the trash and empty shot glasses scattered from your night of partying. The air was charged with an electricity that made your skin tingle. As you worked, your bodies brushed against each other, sending a thrill through you that you hadn't felt in a long time.

When the room was back to its semi-tidy state, Andrei turned to you, the playfulness in his eyes replaced by a seriousness that made your stomach flip. "So, about that date," he began, his voice low and earnest. "I wasn't just saying that because I was drunk or because everyone else is in love or whatever. I've wanted to ask you out for a while."

You felt a mix of excitement and nerves wash over you. "I know," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "I've noticed." You took a step closer to him, your eyes locked. "But why didn't you?"

Andrei took a deep breath, his gaze searching hers. "I was fuckin’ terrified," he admitted, his voice cracking slightly with a nervous laugh. "Afraid of rejection, afraid of messing up our friendship, afraid of what everyone else would think."

You reached out and placed your hand on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palm. "But we're all adults, right?" you said, your voice gentle. "We can handle it."

Andrei's eyes were sincere, void of any signs of doubt. "Yeah," he said, his voice firm. "We can handle it."

You both knew that saying it was one thing, but navigating the murky waters of a relationship while balancing school and your social lives would be another challenge entirely. But in that moment, with the sun just starting to peek through the curtains, you felt like you could conquer the world. "Okay," you said, your voice filled with excitement. "Let's do it."

Andrei's smile grew wider as he took your hand in his. "It's a date," he said, raising your wrist to his lips and giving it a gentle kiss. You shared a moment, your eyes locked, the anticipation of your newfound romance palpable in the air.

"Stop that," you said, giggling and pulling your hand away, though you couldn't hide the smile on your lips.

Andrei grinned, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "What, this?" He leaned in and kissed your wrist again, sending a jolt of desire through you.

You rolled your eyes, but the corners of your mouth tugged upwards. "Yeah, that." You stepped back and began to gather your textbooks, trying to ignore the way your heart skipped a beat every time your fingers brushed together.

Andrei took the hint and grabbed his shoes, laughing quietly. "Alright, alright, got you blushin' and shit." He nudged you playfully as he slipped them on.

You couldn't help but laugh, the tension in the room dissipating as you stepped into the hallway, leaving the confines of your dorm behind. The quiet of the early morning was a stark contrast to the noise of the night before. The two of you walked in comfortable silence, your hands occasionally brushing against each other before Andrei gave into the temptation, taking your hand as you descended the stairs.

As you reached the bottom, your heart fluttered when Andrei leaned in and whispered, "Thank you for not throwing me out with the trash." His breath was warm against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

You playfully swatted his arm. "You know you're not trash, you're more like a recyclable," you teased, trying to keep the conversation light despite the weight of your newfound feelings.

The walk to class was filled with easy conversation and occasional glances that spoke volumes more than words ever could. The leaves crunched under your feet as the cool October air kissed your cheeks, a perfect backdrop to your blossoming romance. As you approached the biology building, Andrei paused, his thumb tracing circles on the back of your hand.

"So, tonight?" he asked, his voice hopeful. "You're free, right?"

"I am not," you laughed, your eyes sparkling. "But I'll make an exception for you." You had a study group for the MCAT later tonight, but you figured you could spare a couple of hours.

Andrei's face lit up. "Really? Does that mean I'm special?"

You rolled your eyes but couldn't hide your smile. "Bye Andrei," you said, pulling your hand away gently. "See you tonight." You turned to enter the building, feeling his eyes on you until you disappeared from his view.

The day passed in a blur of classes and study groups. You couldn't help but think about the date you had agreed to, your thoughts drifting to what you should wear and what you would do. You had texted Andrei all day, your messages light and flirty, filled with anticipation for the night ahead. Finally, the evening came and with it, the realization that you had to tell your study group you couldn't make it. You bit your lip nervously as you sent the text, half expecting them to be upset, but they only responded with a string of texts congratulating you on taking a well-deserved break.

When Andrei arrived to pick you up, he was dressed casually in a short-sleeved button-up and jeans, looking like he had put in more effort than your usual hangouts. His dark hair was gelled, the straight strands tamed to your liking. His eyes swept over you, taking in your own carefully chosen outfit of straight leg jeans and a square-neck top, giving you an appreciative nod. "You look amazing," he said, his voice soft with nerves. You felt a rush of heat creep up your neck, but you took his compliment as he pulled you into a hug.

The two of you walked to the local Indian restaurant that you had both mentioned you loved but had never gone to together. The warm glow of the lights spilled out onto the sidewalk, mingling with the cool evening air. Inside, the smell of sizzling meats and ginger filled the space, making your mouth water. Andrei held the door open for you, and you couldn't help but notice the way his hand lingered on the small of your back as he guided you to a cozy booth.

"Thank you," you said, slipping into the booth across from Andrei.

The conversation flowed easily over dinner, filled with stories from your classes and shared laughs at the absurdity of your college experiences. Andrei had always been a gentle conversationalist, listening intently to every word you spoke and responding with thoughtfulness that made you feel seen. Despite the three years you had known each other, it was as if you were discovering each other for the first time, peeling back layers that had been hidden beneath the surface of friendship.

"So, what's your go-to?" Andrei asked, his eyes scanning the extensive menu.

You thought for a moment before saying, "Butter chicken and garlic naan, every time." You glanced up to find him looking at you with an amused expression. "What?"

Andrei chuckled. "It's just that everyone says that. It's like the safest bet here."

You scoffed playfully. "Maybe it's because it's the best thing on the menu."

The waiter arrived, and you placed your orders. The conversation turned to your costumes and the wild night you had shared. Andrei leaned in, his eyes twinkling. "Javi and Faith disappeared for, like, two hours, bro." You couldn't help but laugh, remembering your friends' unabashed PDA. "They're so in love," you said, a hint of wistfulness in your tone.

Andrei reached across the table and took your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "But we had fun too," he said, his thumb tracing circles on your palm. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver down your spine. You nodded, smiling, and you shared a moment of understanding that this was just the beginning of something special between you.

"Yeah, we did," you said, your voice a bit softer. Andrei's touch was reassuring, a reminder that you weren't alone in navigating this new chapter of your changing relationship.

The waiter returned drink refills, breaking the momentary silence. Andrei took a sip of his water, his eyes gazing into yours. "So, what do you want to do after dinner?"

You felt a thrill at the casualness of the question. "There's an after dinner?" you teased, raising an eyebrow. Andrei chuckled, his grip on your hand tightening slightly.

"Always," he said, his smile warm. "But, I was thinking something low-key. Maybe we could grab some ice cream and walk around the quad?"

You nodded eagerly. "That sounds perfect."

The rest of dinner passed by in a blur of delicious food and easy conversation. You shared stories, laughed, and enjoyed each other's company in a way that was both familiar and new. When the plates were cleared and the check paid, Andrei suggested you go to the local ice cream parlor that was open late for the Princeton crowd.

As you stepped outside into the brisk night air, Andrei put his arm around your shoulders. You leaned into him, feeling the warmth of his body and the comfort of his embrace. The quad was lit by soft, yellow lamps that cast long shadows across the cobblestone walkways. The sound of your footsteps echoed through the quiet night as you made your way to the ice cream shop.

The bell chimed as you pushed open the door, and the familiar smell of waffle cones and sugary treats greeted the two of you. The place was mostly empty, save for a few other students cramming for exams or enjoying a late-night study break. Andrei ordered mint chocolate chip while you went with your usual, a classic vanilla on a waffle cone. You found a small table by the window and sat down, watching the occasional person stroll by.

You took a bite of your ice cream, savoring the sweetness that melted on your tongue. "So, what came over you last night? You've had this crush since freshman year?" you asked playfully, nudging him with your elbow.

Andrei's cheeks reddened slightly, and he took a moment before responding. "I don't know. I just couldn't hold it in anymore. I've seen you with other guys, and it always made me feel... jealous, I guess." He took a deep breath and met your gaze. "But when you walked out in your costume, looking like that..." He trailed off, his voice thick with unspoken feelings.

You felt your cheeks warm at his admission. You had never seen this soft, romantic side of Andrei, and it was endearing. You leaned in closer, your voice low and earnest. "So you liked it?"

Andrei swallowed hard before nodding. "Yeah, I liked it a lot," he said, his eyes searching yours for confirmation. "A lot," he emphasized with a laugh. You couldn't help but join in, feeling a wave of relief wash over you.

The two of you enjoyed your ice cream, sharing bites and smiles, until the cold started to seep into your bones. Andrei suggested he walk you back to your dorm, and you agreed, your heart fluttering at the prospect of more time together. As you strolled under the arching branches of the trees, your laughter mingling with the rustle of leaves, You felt a sense of peace you hadn't experienced in weeks. The stress of your schoolwork had momentarily faded into the background, replaced by the comforting presence of Andrei beside you.

When you reached the steps of your dorm, you turned to face you. "Thank you for dinner," you said, your voice a mix of shyness and sincerity.

Andrei's gaze searched yours, his thumb brushing against the back of your hand as he held onto your fingers. "It was my pleasure," he replied, taking a step closer. His eyes flickered to your lips, biting at his own.

"Are you gonna kiss me, Iosivas?" You teased, your voice low and playful. Andrei's eyes widened for a fraction of a second before he leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was a perfect blend of sweet and hungry. You melted into him, your arms winding around his neck as his free hand rested on your lower back, pulling you closer. The night air was cool, but the warmth from his body and the heat of your kiss made you feel as if you were floating.

When you finally pulled apart, Andrei's eyes searched yours, looking for any hint of doubt or hesitation. You felt none. Instead, you felt a thrilling rush of excitement for the future of your relationship. "Come upstairs?" you whispered, your heart racing. Andrei nodded, and you climbed the stairs to your dorm hand in hand, the weight of your decision hanging in the air.

In your room, the quiet was a stark contrast to the noise of the previous night. The lights were soft, and the space felt intimate. The two of you kicked off your shoes before you moved to your vinyl rack, selecting a record to play on your vintage record player. The sound of Stevie Wonder filled the room, a soft melody that seemed to wrap around you as he stood there awkwardly, unsure of what came next.

You laughed as you turned back to see Andrei standing there, his eyes wide. "You okay?" you asked, taking his hand and leading him to your bed. You both sat down, and you scooted closer, the mattress squeaking slightly beneath you.

Andrei took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours. "Yeah, just... I never thought we'd actually ever do this," he said, his voice a bit shaky.

You leaned in and kissed him again, your hands cupping his face. "Well, we're doing it now," you whispered, feeling the tension between you build.

Andrei's hands found their way around your waist, his grip firm but gentle. You kissed slowly, exploring each other's mouths, tasting the sweetness of the mint chocolate chip and vanilla on your tongues. Your hands traveled up to his neck, playing with the hair at the nape, feeling the muscles beneath his shirt tense and relaxing with every touch.

The record played on, Stevie Wonder's voice serenading your tentative exploration. Andrei pulled away to look at you, his eyes searching for permission. You nodded, a smile playing on your lips. He leaned in again, kissing you more urgently this time. His hands began to roam, tracing the lines of your body, his thumbs grazing the tops of your thighs. The heat from his touch was making it increasingly difficult for you to think about anything other than him. One of his hands reached for your jean-clad thigh, his fingertips brushing searing heat into your skin.

Your breath hitched, and you leaned into him, your hands sliding under his shirt to feel the warmth of his bare chest. His skin was smooth, his muscles firm under your touch. He groaned softly, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. You kissed deeper, your bodies moving closer together as if magnetized. Andrei's hand pulled the thigh under his grasp over his lap, shifting your weight so that you were straddling him. The music continued setting the tempo for your escalating passion.

Breaking away from the kiss, Andrei looked into your eyes, his own filled with a mix of desire and anticipation. "Is this okay?" he murmured, his voice low and gravelly. You nodded, your breath shallow and your chest heaving. You leaned back slightly, giving him the space he needed to remove your shirt. The cool air kissed your skin, and you watched as his eyes darkened with want.

"Damn," Andrei murmured, his voice thick with arousal. He reached up, tracing the edge of your lacy bra with the thumbs. You felt a rush of heat pool in your stomach, and you bit your lower lip to stifle a moan. His attention was pulled to the roll of your hips as you whimpered, the fabric of your jeans rubbing against him deliciously.

Andrei leaned back, his eyes stuck on yours as he unzipped your pants. You helped him slide them down, and you were left in just your panties and bra. He took a moment to drink you in, his eyes lingering on the way your breasts heaved with every breath you took. "You're so beautiful," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your heart raced as you felt his hands skim your skin. You leaned in and kissed him again, your hands working at the buttons of his shirt. You were both fumbling, a mix of excitement and nerves getting the better of you. The fabric of his shirt gave way, revealing his well-defined chest. His abs rippled under the soft light, and you couldn't help but trace the lines of his stomach muscles with your fingernails, causing him to suck in a breath. You ran your hands over the ink on his shoulder, feeling his muscles under your fingertips.

You moved together in a silent dance of desire, your kisses growing more urgent as your hands explored. You, growing impatient with the layers between the two of you, pushed Andrei's torso back onto the bed. He chuckled against your mouth, the sound vibrating through you. With a playful smirk, you trailed your kisses down his chest, your teeth lightly grazing his skin, making him hiss in pleasure.

Your eyes searched for any sign of protest, but all you saw was the fire that matched the one burning within you. You continued to work your kisses downward, your hands fumbling with the button and zipper of his pants. With a groan, Andrei lifted his hips, helping you free him from the fabric of his boxer briefs. You took a moment to appreciate the sight of him, his tip glistening with need, and you couldn't resist leaning in to kiss him there softly, causing him to jolt in surprise.

"Shit!" Andrei cursed, his voice strained with pleasure, as your lips wrapped around his dick. You giggled against him, feeling empowered by his reaction. You took the angry red tip into your mouth, your eyes still locked on his, watching as his expression morphed from shock to pure ecstasy. His hands found your braids, his grip tightening as you moved your head up and down, your tongue swirling around him. His breath grew ragged, and you knew you had him right where you wanted him.

He moaned, his eyes fluttering shut as he kept your hair out of your face, thrusting his hips upward to meet your mouth. You took him deeper, the warmth of your mouth enveloping him, your tongue playing with the vein on the underside of his shaft. Your hand slipped inside his boxers, your palm cupping his balls, rolling them gently as you sucked him off.

You released him with a pop, looking up at him with a seductive heat in your eyes, watching his face contort in agonizing pleasure as you began to stroke him with a self-indulgent smile. “Fuck, princess,” his eyes opened as he released a loud moan, groaning again as his thighs trembled under your touch.

You giggled at the pet name tumbling from his pink lips. You dipped your head, your lips closing around his tip, your hand still moving to jerk his shaft up and down steadily. His eyes rolled back as his hands stilled, their grip tightening on your braids and keeping them back in a makeshift ponytail.

Andrei couldn't believe it. The girl he'd crushed on for so long was giving him the best blowjob he had ever had. He could feel his orgasm building, his body tensing with every stroke of your tongue. He didn't want it to end, but he also couldn't wait to be inside you. With a reluctant groan, he pulled you back up and kissed you deeply, tasting himself on your lips.

Your eyes sparkled with mischief as you straddled him, your own need growing more intense with every passing second. You reached for the bedside drawer and pulled out a condom, tossing it to him with a grin. Andrei's hands trembled slightly as he nervously struggled with the packaging.

You giggled as you watched him, your nails gently scratching at his chest in an attempt to ground yourself. "Let me," you offered. "Here," you said, taking the condom from his hand.

You tore open the packet with your teeth and slid it onto him with a smooth, practiced ease that made Andrei's eyes widen in amazement. He watched as you positioned yourself above him, one hand on his chest for balance as the other trailed down to pull your underwear to the side.

"Ready?" You asked, your voice husky and filled with anticipation. Andrei nodded, his eyes never leaving yours as you lowered your weight onto him. He felt himself enter you, the tightness of you making him groan. You were wet and hot, and the sensation was unlike anything he had ever experienced. His hands found your hips, holding you still against him as you both adjusted to the feeling.

"Fuck, yes," Andrei murmured as you began to move again, sinking deeper onto him, taking him in inch by inch. Your eyes never left his, watching the pleasure etch lines across his face. When you were fully seated on him, you both took a moment to savor the feeling of your bodies joined together, the culmination of your years of flirtation and unspoken longing.

"I'm not gonna last," Andrei warned, his voice strained with desire as he watched your body begin to move.

You smiled, your rhythm slow and deliberate. "You don't have to," you whispered, your voice a sultry purr in his ear, "Just feel me."

And so he did. Andrei felt every inch of you as you began to ride him, your movements growing more urgent with every stroke. Your nails dug into his chest, leaving half-moons in his skin. His own hips began to lift to meet yours, the base of his cock smacking against you with each thrust. The friction was almost too much, and he had to bite down on his lip to keep from losing it too quickly.

The music played on, the beat syncing with your movements. As you bounced on him, Andrei's hands wandered to your breasts, tweaking your nipples through the lace of your bra. You gasped as a strap fell down your shoulder, your head rolling back in pleasure. He sat up, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you closer, his mouth finding your neck. You tilted your head to the side, giving him better access as his teeth scraped your sensitive skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

Your breathing grew ragged as your pace increased. The bed creaked beneath you, melding with the rhythm of your bodies. Andrei could feel himself getting closer to the edge, his core tightening in anticipation. Your walls tightened around him, your breath hitching as you felt his strength shift to guide your hips, setting a tempo that sent shockwaves of pleasure through your core.

"Andrei," you panted, your nails digging into his shoulders as you leaned back, your arms reaching back to rest on his outstretched legs. Your breasts bounced with each upward movement on his lap as he controlled your pace, brown eyes connecting in the heat of your passion. His eyes trailed down to your chest, watching the mesmerizing sight, his arms flexing as he slowed the speed of your hips, taking a moment to capture your lips in a kiss as he rocked your hips agonizingly slow over his.

Your eyes rolled back in your head, your breath coming in short gasps as you felt yourself building up to the edge. Andrei's kisses grew more demanding, his tongue delving into your mouth as his hands moved down to your ass, guiding your movements. He felt your walls tighten around him, the wetness of your sex coating his dick, and he knew you were close.

"Fuck—oh, yeah, yes," Andrei groaned against your neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin just below your ear. His grip tightened as you began to bounce faster, your breath coming in ragged pants. You could feel him twitch inside you, his hips becoming more erratic as he lost control.

The tension grew, your bodies moving in perfect harmony. Your moans grew louder, filling the room. Andrei couldn't hold back anymore, his head dipped to press his lips to the valley between your breasts. With a stifled moan against your chest, he buried himself deep inside you, feeling his orgasm rip through his body and spill warmly into the condom.

"Oh, shit," Andrei breathed out, his body trembling as he held onto you tightly, feeling the aftershocks of his climax. "Gimme a second," he managed, his chest heaving. You giggled as you ran your nails up and down his back, enjoying the feeling of his skin against your own. You leaned down and kissed him softly, your breath warm against his cheek.

Your own orgasm was just around the corner. Andrei could feel it in the way you clenched around him, your breath hitching in your throat. He kissed your neck, his teeth grazing your skin as he lifted you from his dick. He turned your body, pressing your back against his chest as he fell back against the sheets of your bed with an athleticism that should not have surprised you as much as it did.

"What are you doing?" You gasped, feeling a new wave of arousal as Andrei's strong hands gripped your thighs, spreading you open. He kissed your neck, shushing you with a gentle nip of his teeth. "Let me take care of you," he murmured, his breath hot against your skin.

With your legs open wide, Andrei's hands moved to caress your inner thighs, his fingers lightly brushing against your slick folds as he pulled your panties to the side once again. He watched your face contort with pleasure as he touched you, exploring you with a gentle curiosity. The pad of his finger found your clit, and you gasped, arching your back into his touch. He circled the sensitive bud, feeling your pulse beneath his fingertip.

Your breath grew shallow as Andrei's ministrations grew more intense. Your hips began to rock against his hand, seeking relief from the delicious pressure building within you. He could feel the heat of you against him, your body begging for more. His mouth found your neck, his lips nipping and kissing the soft skin as he worked his thumb in slow, deliberate circles.

"Fuck, Andrei," you whispered, your voice thick with pleasure. Your head raised briefly to watch as a finger dipped to enter you, the wetness of your arousal making it easy for him to slide in and out of you. He curled his finger inside you before adding another one, feeling your tightness clench around him and your breath hitched.

"Feels good?" he asked, his voice gruff as he watched your reaction. You could only moan in response, your head falling back again. The sensation was maddening, the way he filled you up and then left you empty only to fill you again. One of your hands found his thick hair, your nails scratching gently at his scalp as the other reached down to guide his fingers inside of you, pressing it harder into the sensitive bundle of nerves. Andrei's unoccupied hand moved from its spot on your dark thighs, running upwards to squeeze your breasts, his thumb playing with your nipple, the lace scraping against your skin.

Your movements grew more frantic, your breathing shallower, your body writhing against him. He felt you tense, your pussy contracting around his fingers, and knew you were close. He picked up his pace, his thumb flicking your clit in a way that made your back arch and your toes curl.

Pressing a kiss to your shoulder, Andrei whispered in your ear, "Go ahead, princess." His voice was a command wrapped in velvet, sending a shiver down your spine. With one final thrust of his fingers, you came apart. Your body tensed, muscles contracting, as you climaxed around his fingers. Your moan was muffled by your hand, your eyes screwed shut. He watched you, fascinated by the way you came apart in his arms, the way you clenched around him, your body begging for more.

As you rode out your orgasm, your breathing slowing, Andrei pulled his hand away, bringing his fingers to your mouth.

"Taste yourself," he said, his voice a low growl that sent a fresh wave of heat through you. Your eyes snapped open, meeting his dark gaze. Without hesitation, you took his fingers into your mouth, suckling them clean. The taste was foreign yet intimate, and it only served to make you want more of him.

The two of you lay there, panting and sweaty, your bodies tangled together. Andrei's arms were wrapped around you, holding you close as if you were something precious, something to be cherished. You felt a warmth spread through your chest, a feeling you hadn't felt in a long time. It was more than just the afterglow of great sex; it was a connection that you hadn't realized was missing in your life.

You stayed that way for a while, just basking in the intimacy of the moment, your hearts beating in sync with the fading bass of the music outside. Eventually, you turned your body over in his arms to face him, your hand tracing the lines of his jaw, your thumb brushing against his full bottom lip.

Andrei brought you back down, pressing your front against his. "Thank you, for this," he said, his voice gruff and sincere. He kissed your forehead, your cheek, and finally your lips. It was a gentle kiss, one that spoke of affection and something deeper than the physical connection you just shared.

Your heart swelled, and you kissed him back with equal passion. "Thank you," you murmured, your eyes searching his. You could see the emotions swirling in his gaze—desire, relief, and a hint of vulnerability you hadn't expected from the usually laidback multi-sport athlete. It was endearing, and you found yourself smiling against his mouth.

Lifting your chest from his, your nails gently raked up and down his abs, your thighs straddling his hips. "I’ll be right back," you whispered, breaking the spell. Andrei's grip loosened, and he nodded, a lazy smile playing on his lips as he watched you move away from the bed. You walked to the bathroom, your legs feeling like jelly. Your chest ached at the loss of his warm touch.

You took care of yourself, then looked in the mirror, your makeup melting slightly from the heat of your encounter. You attempted to calm yourself, washing what was left of your makeup away with your makeup wipes, your eyes bright with excitement. You took a deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts, but they remained a jumbled mess of pleasure and wonder.

When you emerged, Andrei was still laying in your bed, his bare chest rising and falling with his steady breaths. He looked up as you approached, the smile on his face growing as he reached for you. "You okay?" he asked, his voice filled with genuine concern.

"Yeah, I'm good," you said, climbing back in beside him. He pulled you closer, your head resting on his chest, listening to the rhythm of his heart. "Where the fuck did you learn that?" You asked after a beat, your voice muffled by his skin.

Andrei laughed out loud, the tension leaving his body, his fingers caressing your skin softly. "I have my ways," he replied with a smug grin, not giving anything away. You smacked his chest playfully, Andrei’s cheeks flushed from your encounter.

"Ow, asshole," he huffed, feigning pain.

The two of you laid there, your bodies cooling down but the warmth of your connection remained. Finally finding the strength to lift yourself off Andrei's chest, you reached for his phone on the nightstand. Flicking his flashlight on, you directed the light to his face. His flushed cheeks and swollen lips made him look even more handsome than you had ever seen him.

He squinted under the strength of the light, groaning with dissatisfaction. “Dude… what the fuck?”

With a giggle you moved your attention to the rest of his face, "You have makeup all over your face," you pointed out, wiping away the remnants of your gloss from his lips.

Andrei's smile grew wider, his eyes bright with mischief. "Worth it," he murmured, sitting up to kiss you again.

"Let's get you cleaned up," you said, standing up from the bed to reach for Andrei's forgotten button-up. You smiled to yourself as Andrei watched you with a lazy grin, his eyes tracing your every move. Your fingers moved gracefully across the material, pulling your hands through the sleeves while Andrei stepped into his boxers.

In the bathroom, the warm light cast a glow on your half-dressed bodies as you crowded around the mirror. Andrei lifted you to sit on the counter, catching you by surprise, your legs dangling as he stepped between them, his underwear hanging low on his hips, his silver chain glittering against his tanned skin. He leaned into your touch, you beginning to clean him up. You were meticulous, your movements tender as you wiped away smudges of foundation and the rest of your lip gloss from his face. His eyes swept over your face, committing your post-sex glow to memory as you worked diligently.

"You're so beautiful," Andrei murmured, his eyes tracing the lines of your face as you focused on removing the last of your makeup from his face. You ducked your head, trying to hide your smile.

"You're just saying that because I gave you head," you teased, your voice light and playful.

He leaned in, kissing your neck gently, his stubble scraping against your skin. "Best head of my life," he conceded, making you laugh and shove him away.

Andrei stepped back between your legs, his hands resting on your knees. "But seriously, you're stunning, princess." The use of the pet name again drew a shy smile out of you again. His words were sincere, and you could feel his eyes on you as you worked to clean off the last smudges of makeup from his face. You felt the tug of your smile against your lips, but you didn't look away from the task at hand.

When you were done, you tossed the wipe into the trash and leaned back against the mirror, looking at him with a soft expression. "What now?" you asked, your voice still playful despite the weight of your earlier conversation.

Andrei's expression grew more serious, his hands stilling on your thighs. "Now, we do this right." He paused, searching your eyes for any hesitation. "I don't want this to just be a one-time thing. I want to date you, for real."

Your heart skipped a beat at his words. "Okay," you said, your voice a breathless whisper.

"Okay?" Andrei teased, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth, hands squeezing your plush thighs softly.

"Yes, John Green. Okay," you scoffed with a roll of your eyes, your voice filled with excitement as you leaned in to kiss him again, this time with more passion. Andrei wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer as your kiss deepened. You broke apart, both of you grinning like fools.

"So, we're dating?" You asked, your voice filled with a mix of disbelief and happiness. Andrei nodded, a soft smile playing on his lips. "I've liked you for a long time. And if you're willing to put up with me and all my shit, then I'm all in."

"And what if I'm the one with the shit?" You countered, raising an eyebrow. He laughed, a deep, rumbling sound that made your stomach flutter. "Then I'll just have to be extra patient."

You couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement at the prospect, leaning in to kiss Andrei again. This time, there was no teasing or heat, just the sweetness of two people discovering each other on a deeper level. His arms tightened around you, and you felt yourself melting into him. It was a perfect moment, one you hadn't allowed yourself to dream of.

He lifted you off the counter, setting you on your feet, and you both took a moment to look into each other's eyes, the gravity of your decision settling in. The room was filled with an electrifying silence that seemed to crackle with anticipation. You felt your heart racing as you stared into his brown eyes quietly. With a sudden movement, Andrei bent down to pick you up bridal style, making you squeal with laughter as he carried you to the bed, flicking the light switch in the bathroom off.

The room was bathed in the soft glow of the moonlight coming in through the window. He laid you down gently, the mattress sinking under your combined weight. The two of you shared another kiss, slower this time, savoring the moment. You felt the warmth of Andrei's skin against yours, and you knew you had made the right choice. You had never felt so alive, so seen, and so desired.

You settled against the sheets, the laughter fading into a comfortable silence. Andrei's hand caressed your side. His eyes fluttered closed as he felt your softness next to him, he knew he never wanted to let go of this feeling.

As you drifted off to sleep in his arms, you whispered, "Don't fuck this up for me, Iosivas. I really like you."

Andrei chuckled, kissing your forehead. "I'll do my best, princess."

#&. cassie writes.#andrei iosivas #andrei iosivas fic #andrei iosivas fanfic #andrei iosivas x reader #andrei iosivas imagine #andrei iosivas fluff #andrei iosivas x fem!reader #cincinnati bengals #bengals #cincinnati football #black!fem!reader #x black fem reader #x black reader #black!reader #black reader

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sweeteaacakes · 5 months ago

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Hiiiiii, i hope my request is ok for you, cus I really crave some WHB angels stuff 🥲 Can I have a oneshort about MC who fall asleep in the middle of a grass field, and the angels saw them but did not kill MC (...I know it's impossible but pls 😭 i just want some fluff!!!) Then all of them decided to sleep near MC too, then Lucifer appear and tuck them in (maybe give them pat pat on the head too 🥺)

♡》『WHB|| The Flowers In The Meadow』

┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° Abracadabra! Now your impossible becomes possible!

┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° A platonic oneshot MC/Angels/Lucifer. ( 〃u〃) ~♡

»»-----------►

Paradise Lost. A country formerly frequented by angels before the God's disappearance is now a country where the morningstar ever shines upon the land.

You wonder if the devils of this land ever get tired of constant light. Maybe they go somewhere else from time to time to remember how the night is. One thing for sure is that no matter how much the sun shines upon them it maintains an everlasting welcoming warmth.

Since you've been in Hell, it was a constant left and right of fight and mission. You were always on guard but right now your body seems at peace as you sit under the shadow of the tree enjoying the breeze and the pleasant warmth of the sun…

Maybe you enjoyed it too much that your eyes closed and drifted off to sleep.

You remember Lucifer saying this is one of the safe places in Paradise Lost without minding the fact misunderstood what he meant for ‘safe’ that when you fall deep into your sleep, you failed to notice the gust of wind and sound of flapping wings.

“That's them, right?” a voice whispered to the one besides them without getting a response but a mutual smile without good intention formed in their face.

The angels would usually dive in to eliminate their targets without thinking of consequences but the brand on the individual's chest was special and, wanting to please their higher ups, the two angels, then followed by others, whistled a quiet tune in the sky.

Moments laters three trails of light traveled toward their directions.

The three seraphims now hovered in the sky of Paradise Lost eyeing blissfully sleeping humans. Michael's fingers itched. Gabriel's maniacal smile spread seconds passing by along with his heavy breath. And Raphael’s mind already imagines various ways he'd snap each bone one by one.

But what's stopping them is the land's law. A rule their traitor brother made when he sided with the lowly devils: whoever steps in Paradise Lost without my, Lucifer's, permission will die.

“Sir Michael. May I with this body of mine be the sacrifice for your victory.” An angel vulture bowed his head. It didn't need any reply to dive in and with confidence and without hesitation its feet touched the ground.

Moments passed and the angel grinned triumphantly and raised his fist to call for the three seraphims.

The three now dived in and once their feet touched the ground all together the land shook.

“Child of Solomon. How naïve. Did I say..? That traitor of our brother nonetheless. Putting this as a safe haven for every being to step in.” Gabriel chuckled under his breath.

Michael, without saying another word, walked toward the human and grabbed them on the neck and lifted them up.

“Like a ragged doll…” Michael said, shaking them left and right.

“I do wonder… They taste every inch of their tainted body how it is.” Raphael added, taking them by the hand and lifting it to his mouth eager to munch on but regained by swirling his tongue on it.

The three seraphims enjoyed their close victory. Maybe too much even. The angels soon joined the seraphs unaware of the foregoing situation.

…

“Brother Lucifer! Your Majesty! Isn't this the perfect opportunity to strike…?” The young dragon suggested, his staff tingled in anticipation.

“But we need to get back the child of Solomon before we do without waking up the angel,” Jjok added.

“Of course!” Gamingin nodded. While the two brainstormed, the other nobles stayed quiet and waited for Lucifer's words.

“It would be. But that piece of land is a safe haven. It means no fight or harm will be given no matter who is in the area and therefore…” Lucifer explained.

Despite not finishing the sentence all the nobles understood the logic behind the law he implemented.

…

Deep in the forest of Paradise Lost a lone cabin under the feet of the hill stood. Despite seemingly being abandoned, it is well-kept. It's none other than Gamigin's old cabin.

Since the day Lucifer had to move into the palace to manage better the country, he implemented the law of safe haven in the area that reached the lone tree from the hill where his first years in Hell were spent. And whoever seeks to recover and peace shall find there, just as he once did.

Now under the sunlit hill where he once tainted of blood, the pure white of angel's robe covered the ground like a blanket. Under the shadow of the trees slept four figures.

Lucifer made his way toward the tree where under its shadow the gentle breeze caressed their hair and their chest slowly heaved at their peaceful breathing.

Raphael was leaning on you with his pinky slightly touching yours. Gabriel slept on your lap, his hands closed tight on his chest like how he normally sleeps. Meanwhile, Michael leaned on the tree more detached from the three but close either way.

He was supposed to take and bring you back to the palace before the angels wakes up and a certain king knows about your current situation but, for now, he indulged at the sight before him.

…

“Shit… we lost them…” Raphael grimaced with a rumbling voice as he stated the obvious unlike the two seraphims.

But the angels around were not worried about the human now. Their worry are direct to the two seraphims. Whether it's because they failed their only chance or what may the seraphs do.

Michael look up in the sky as he placed trembling hand on his forehead. Tears that temporarily ceased in his sleep started to flow once more as the wind whispers a ghostly touch of someone's lips from long time ago.

As he looked at his brothers. Although their face are hidden from him, Michael can sense that they felt the same too as they both looked up in the sky with lingering nostalgia of the past.

…

[♡ BONUS DESSERT ♡]

»»———-　　———-«

#.sweeteaa writes #what in hell is bad #what in “hell” is bad?#whb #whb oneshot #whb angels #whb seraphims #whb lucifer #whb michael #whb gabriel #whb raphael #whb x reader

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javiscigarette · 2 years ago

Text

Sweet Dreams

Javier Peña x f!reader

Summary: You find Javi awake in the middle of the night and help him fall asleep :)

Warnings: 18+ (minors DNI) no use of y/n, dirty talk, oral sex (m receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, rough sex, spitting, light spanking, cum play, hair pulling, just a dash of degradation, probably more this is literally just straight up absolutely filthy smut with a microscopic speck of plot. Kinda soft!Javi, lots of use of the nickname princesa and baby

Word count: 6.4k hahaha

A/N: This whole thing is based on this gif. I'm down so horrendously bad for this man I can't keep living like this.

You wake up in the middle of the night to an empty bed.

A couple of hours ago you had fallen asleep with his arms wrapped tightly around you with your back to his chest, his face tucked into the space between your neck and shoulder, his steady breathing warm against your skin.

And now all you felt was the cool breeze coming in from the open balcony door. You roll over and squint, trying to focus your tired eyes. You can make out Javi’s silhouette sitting on the couch out on balcony and can smell the cigarette smoke wafting into the bedroom.

Well that just wont do.

No other thoughts cross your mind before you wrap yourself up in the fluffy blanket and stand up. It’s like your body is a magnet to Javi, needing to be as close to him as possible at all times. You’re still half asleep and your legs feel like jello as you stumble out onto the balcony.

Javi immediately turns to you, his concerned puppy dog eyes looking at you.

“What are you doin up, princesa” Javi asks with a frown.

He’s shirtless, sitting there on the couch in only his boxers. He’s definitely a sight for your sore eyes.

“Could ask you the same”

Your voice still thick with sleep as you sit next to him on the couch and his arm immediately wraps around your shoulder, pulling you close to him.

“Couldn’t sleep” Javi says plainly before taking a deep puff from the cigarette that’s dangling between his index and middle finger.

You don’t say anything in response but let the soft noise from the city below fill the silence instead.

It’s a very rare occasion when Javi wants to talk about the baggage he takes home from work, he often tells you that being with you is healing enough. But finding him in the middle of the night on the living room couch or balcony with a cigarette tucked between his lips as he nurses a bottle of whiskey is not a rare occasion.

Sometimes you can pull it out of him, get him to open up about the shit that’s weighing him down. But you know that it’s not the time for that right now and you’re too tired to hold an actual conversation right now anyway.

You yawn and move to lay down, your head resting in his lap with your legs stretched out on the rest of the couch and your blanket pulled up to your chin.

He automatically snakes a hand under the blanket until he finds the warm, bare skin of your shoulder. He rests his hand there, drawing soft patterns on your skin with his thumb while his other arm stretches out on the back of the couch. You fall back asleep almost instantly, Javi’s light touch lulling you back

He sits here for awhile, concentrating on the feeling the rise and fall of your body under his hand on your shoulder. His mind is finally starting to go blank, the weight of your body against his washing away the events of the day. Having you close always soothed him. Something about you just put him at ease. The whiskey and cigarettes couldn’t hold a light to the way you clear his mind.

He picks up the glass of whiskey on the side table, gulping down the rest of it and setting it back down before bringing his cigarette up to his lips, taking another long drag.

He looks down at your head in is lap. You’re facing him, giving him a perfect view of your relaxed and peaceful face as you sleep. His heart swells a bit when he realizes that he can feel your warm breath on his bare thigh with your every deep exhale.

Softly, as to not wake you, he brings his hand from your shoulder to your face, softly running his thumb over your cheekbone.

“So pretty” He whispers.

Your eyelashes flutter open just slightly and he shushes you softly, tracing a feather light finger along your jaw. He can never keep his hands off of you. He has to always be touching you in some way as if your a tether to the Earth and if he let go he would fly away.

You snuggle your face further into his thigh and In less than a minute, your breathing slows down again, your breaths becoming heavier and deeper.

Your cheek is pressed against the soft skin of his bare thigh, squishing your mouth so it hangs open slightly. He can’t stop himself as he moves his thumb to rest on your lower lip, rubbing it with the pad of his thumb ever so slightly.

To his amazement, your lips automatically close around the tip of his thumb. His cock twitches in his boxers, seeing you so accepting, so willing to take anything he gives you even in your sleep. He slides his thumb in further, pressing against your tongue until your warm lips are wrapped around his first knuckle. He groans quietly when he feels you starting to suckle his thumb, another wave of arousal washing over him.

He sits there quietly with his palm resting in your cheek and his thumb tucked between your lips, watching fondly as you suck on it gently in your sleep.

You’re stuck somewhere halfway between sleep and consciousness. You know he’s getting needy. he was always needy around you and you want to stay awake and please him. But you can’t stop yourself from drifting in and out of sleep with the comforting touch of Javi’s hand on your cheek as you gently suck on his thumb. The faint scent of his body wash he used in the shower you two shared hours ago mixing with the cigarettes and whiskey and the smell that was so undeniably Javi made your head even fuzzier, definitely not helping your efforts in trying to stay awake.

You have no clue how much time passes before Javi’s sliding his thumb out of your mouth and smoothing it against your swollen bottom lip. You open your eyes at the loss, looking up at Javi through your eyelashes. He looks back down at you, his eyes soft and full of admiration.

“My sweet girl” he says quietly, barely loud enough to hear over the sounds of the city.

He hooks his wet thumb over your bottom lip, tugging down slightly until your jaw opens up a bit more. You know what he’s asking for. Your eyes flit down to his boxers and you can see the clear outline of his half hard cock through the thin material of his boxers.

“Can use me” you say mumble, the sleep in voice causing you to slur your words before you close your eyes again.

You hear Javi curse quietly above you before he starts to reposition himself, trying his absolute hardest not to jostle you around. He manages to push his boxers down slightly, just enough to get his cock out.

Your eyes are still closed when you feel his wet, hot tip press gently against your lip. You keep them closed as you open your jaw, giving him silent permission to slide in.

He keeps just the tip in your mouth for now, sighing heavily when you start to lick the precum from head. He leans to the side to drop his cigarette into the ashtray resting in the side table before resting his hand on your cheek again. He can feel his tip press against his palm through your cheek every so often and it drives him crazy.

He sighs again once you let him push his cock further into your mouth, taking him as deep as you could at this angle.

“Shit baby” Javi’s groans, letting his head drop on the back of the couch.

He’s now fully hard, fighting every urge not to buck his hips up and shove his cock down your throat like he normally does. He wants to stay in this moment as long as he could, savoring they way you’re nearly asleep but still so willing to take him. His efforts are thwarted when he looks down at you, your face sleepy and peaceful with you wet lips wrapped so perfectly around him.

“So fuckin pretty like this” he sighs, his thumb brushing your cheek.

Javi’s was hot and heavy in your mouth, twitching every time you hollowed your cheeks and sucked on him. Fat drops of precum leaked out on your tongue which you eagerly swallowed, causing his thighs to tremble under your head.

His praise and breathy sighs and quiet broken moans send shivers down your spine, straight to your core.

You absolutely craved Javi like this, using you to get off, letting him find solace in your body. You’re so eager to please him, to draw out those shaky gasps and moans, that he barely has to ask anymore. His palm on your thigh or a squeeze around your waist was enough to turn you to putty in his hands. And you always got something in return. That was part of the reason you submitted so easily. After you make him cum, he’d immediately crawl between your legs, licking you and sucking you down, returning the favor 10 fold until your crashing down from your third orgasm in a row, absolutely begging him for a break.

Spit starts to leak out of your corner of your mouth and Javi grunts above you when he feels it dribble down his cock and onto his thigh. He moves his thumb to wipe up some of it, spreading it against your lips that are wrapped tightly around him.

He slowly rolls his hips up, testing the waters to see if you’d let him go further. Of course you allow it, tilting your head so there’s more room to fit him down your throat.

“My sweet girl, takin’ me so well” he rasps.

You’re starting to genuinely choke on him, his girth making your jaw ache but you don’t care. Not one bit. He keeps his pace slow, but he goes deeper every time. He drops his other to the back of your head, holding you in place for a few seconds every time he stuffs himself down your throat. He groans when he feels you gag, trying to swallow around him, the sensation sending tingles up to his scalp and down to his toes.

Your eyes are still closed, but tears are starting to leak out of the corners as he slowly fucks your throat. You were starting to get as needy as him. You always did when he filled your mouth up like this.

You start pressing your thighs together, trying to create any bit of friction. Javi of course notices immediately. No movement of yours goes unnoticed when he’s around.

“You gettin needy baby?” He coos at you, a devilish smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

You open your eyes and look up at him, more tears falling falling down your face. You moan in response and he slides even further down your throat and holds you in place for a few seconds before letting up, allowing you to take a deep breath before he’s sliding in again.

His hand leaves your face, his palm warm and heavy as he slides it over your shoulder and down your side until he finds his way in between your thighs.

You let out a long whine when you feel two of his fingers press against your bare slit. He started the night in bed with you so he knows you’re naked. And at this point of your relationship, he takes you in the middle of the night more often than not so you decided to skip putting on pjs since you often found them on the floor anyway when you woke in the morning.

But it still take his breath away, your wet cunt exposed and ready for him to use whenever he pleases.

“Oh angel” he sighs, gliding a finger through your soaked folds. The sensation sends tingles up your spine, making you whine around him.

“Makin’ a mess and I haven’t even touched you yet. You love suckin my cock that much?”

You let out a long moan, the sound muffled by his cock still pumping in and out your throat. You try to grind down into his touch, which he responds to with an amused chuckle.

“So good, baby. So sweet and wet for me”

He feels your cunt clench and more slick drip out of you every time he talks. His words get filthy when he’s taking you like this. He’s normally fairly quiet, opting to brood silently rather than have any sort of conversation. But you draw it out of him so effortlessly it’s like he has no control over what comes out of his mouth and he clearly knows how much it gets to you.

He continues to glide two fingers through you slick heat, his cock starting to twitch in your mouth even more before he slowly plunges one deep inside of you.

Your eyes widen and you look up at him again and he’s smiling down at you, his cock pushing your loud moan back down your throat. He starts to pump his finger in and out of you, his pace matching the slow roll of his hips.

“Oh you really like having me down your throat, don’t you angel” he says when he feels you squeeze around his finger.

You thoughts are muddy and your skin feels so hot and all you can do is take him down your throat while you flutter around his finger. He knows one finger isn’t enough to get you off but you don’t dare to complain. You were for Javi to use right now and you’re going to let him use you however he pleases.

He keeps up the slow rhythm of fucking your throat while sliding his finger in and out of you. He’s almost never this slow with you, but it feels so good like this, seeing how long you can last. Your jaw is trembling now from staying for so long, spit sliding past your lips and down your chin and and neck your thighs shaking as you resist the urge to clamp down around Javi’s hand. Warm waves of arousal flood his senses every time he slips deeper into your throat. You were sound asleep not even half an hour ago and now you choking on Javi’s cock and leaking on his hand and down his fingers, being so submissive and he didn’t even have to say a single word.

His hips start to roll up faster as he gets caught up in how perfect you are, letting him use you however he wants, willing to do anything for him.

“My good girl. You want my cum down your throat, princesa?” He hisses, staring down at you.

He’s getting close. You can hear it in his voice and the pants he lets out at his chest heaves up and down. The anticipation of swallowing his hot seed is making you moan nonstop around him, the vibrations of your throat around him making him clench his jaw as he sucks in air through his teeth.

He tangles the hand that’s not inside you tightly in your hair as he starts to thrust faster into your mouth. You can feel his legs start to shake under your head, his grunts and gasps getting louder with every thrust. He sneakily adds a second finger in your cunt and he picks up the pace of fucking his fingers into you too.

“I know baby. I know you do. M’gonna cum and you’re gonna swallow every drop aren’t you, princesa” he rasps

It takes one, two, three more thrusts until he buries himself in your throat, pushing your head down until every inch of him is stuffed in your mouth as he cums down your throat. It’s so much. You’d probably slap any other man who tried to hold you down like that while he came. But something inside you is so innately in tune with him that you’d let him break you in anyway he pleases. You swallow his load happily, clenching around his two fingers as rope after rope of hot cum slides directly down your throat. Javi’s moaning at full volume now above you, not giving a single shit about the neighbors hearing him.

He gives one last push, sliding as far as he possible can down your throat before pulling back until just the tip rests in your mouth. He sighs loudly and you can just barely hear the quiet whimpers he lets out as aftershocks of his orgasm shoot through his body. He continues to slowly slide his fingers in and out of you as he catches his breath. You hum contentedly as he softens in your mouth, his breath hitching and body jolting every time you teasingly ran your tongue over his sensitive slit.

You finally release him from your mouth, a trail of spit connecting his tip to your tongue, which you lick up eagerly. He hisses at the cold air against his sensitive skin, already missing your mouth around him. Your mouth still hangs open, high pitched whines freely tumbling out every time Javi slides his fingers into you, his pace now slow and syrupy. You buck your hips, trying to grind your clit against the heel of his palm, trying to get him to speed up but he’s two steps ahead of you and removes his hand from you entirely before you can get any friction.

“Javiii” you whine desperately at the loss.

“Don’t be greedy, baby. Stay still and be grateful for what I give you.” Javi hisses, his voice dropping down an octave.

His words make your heart beat faster in your chest as you look up at him with wide eyes. His eyes are glued to yours as he brings his hand up to his face, sticking his two fingers that are practically dripping with your slick to his mouth. He immediately groans when he tastes you on his tongue, eyes rolling into the back of his head as he eagerly sucking down your juices. You let out a whimper and your cunt clenches around nothing as you watch him taste you. You’re well aware Javi loves to taste you but watching him moan and groan around his fingers as he tastes you drives you absolutely wild.

He opens and eyes and takes his fingers from his mouth. They’re now coated with his spit and your slick, shining in the soft glow of the city lights.

“Taste so fucking good, hermosa” He says, a lopsided smirk plastered on his face.

“Taste how sweet you are” he says before pushing his wet fingers into your mouth.

You moan lowly and your core pulses at the taste of the mixture of his spit and your juices on his fingers. He presses his two fingers against your tongue, pushing them back just slightly until you gag, spreading more of your own salvia around the two digits until they’re even wetter than they were before.

He then slips his fingers out of your mouth sliding them back into his mouth and Jesus Christ this man was going to be the death of you. His smirks even more at the desparte moan you let out as you watch him.

He release his finger from his mouth with low groan and a soft wet pop before returning his hand to your core, circling your leaking hole with his finger tips.

“You think you deserve to cum, baby?”

“Javi please, please I wa-“

You cut yourself off with a ragged moan when he thrusts his fingers into you, going deeper than before and curling up right against your g-spot as he immediately starts with a rapid pace. Hot waves of pleasure shoot up your spine and settled in your stomach each time his fingers hook against the spot that makes your eyes roll back in your skull.

“Yeah, I think you do baby. Sucked my cock so well, such a good girl for me” Javi says gruffly as he stares down at you, eyes trained on the faces your making.

You whimper and whine, bucking your hips up trying to get his fingers to go deeper.

“Love how wet this pretty pussy gets for me” Javi says almost to himself, groaning at the way you clench down around him.

“So fuckin tight too, huh? Only got two fingers in ya and can barely move ‘em”

Javi knows how much faster you cum when he’s talking this, how his filthy words hurtle you closer to the edge. You let out a loud moan which causes Javi to slap his free hand over your mouth.

“Be quiet, Princesa. You want the whole city knowing how slutty you are with my fingers in your tight cunt?”

Javi chuckles when you clench down so hard that you almost push his fingers out.

“Oh” Javi groans “you’d like that, wouldn’t you princesa? Letting everyone know how good I make you feel? You want them see how much of a slut you are, letting me fuck any of your holes whenever and wherever I want?”

Javi doesn’t break eye contact with you, watching as you writhe in his lap. The veins in your neck threaten to burst as you cry out his name, the sound muffled against his hand. Javi doesn’t make it any easier for you to be quiet. Instead, he slides his thumb through your drenched folds before circling your clit, just how you like it. You groan into his palm and twist your body in his lap as you feel your climax quickly building up in your stomach.

“You’re getting close, baby, I can feel it.”

You nod quickly, letting a short moan fall from between your lips. Javi’s hand is completely covering you mouth and his knuckles are pressing against your nostrils, leaving you heaving deeply for air. The pad of his thumb is still pressed into you clit, rubbing expert circles as he rubs his fingertips against your g-spot. You can feel yourself unraveling quickly. It comes a lot quicker than it would’ve if you hadn’t spent the last 15 minutes with Javi’s cock down your throat.

“Cum for me, princesa. Fucking soak my fingers like I know you want to” Javi growls.

You can’t take anymore. His voice, his words, his fingers buried in your cunt and his big hand blocking your breathing is too much. It all sends your flying off the edge. You cry out against Javi’s palm, your whole body trembling as you gush around his fingers, soaking his hand and wrist and the blanket under you. Javi groans as you fall apart and doesn’t stop pumping his fingers in and out of you until your whimpering, and clamping your thighs around his hand.

“Fuck baby. You so fucking pretty when you cum” Javi grunts, his chest heaving up and down as if he was the one who just came so hard he saw stars.

It takes a few moments for you to come down from your high, whimpering and jolting whenever Javi draws light circles on top of your sensitive clit. He slowly slides his fingers out of you, pulling his soaked hand out from under the blanket. He holds it up in front of your face, forcing you to look at how his whole hand and his wrist are covered in your juices.

He grins ear to ear and sticks his fingers in his mouth again, his eyes rolling back into his head again as his eyelids flutter close. He takes his time licking your release off of his fingers, savoring every sweet drop. When he finishes, he looks back down at you with the soft smile that’s reserved only for you.

“Come here, princesa” Javi commands softly.

He helps you sit up and you crawl to sit in his lap and drapes the blanket over your shoulders, shielding you from the cool breeze and wandering eyes before you collapse on his chest. He sighs at the intense heat of your body, his muscles quickly melting underneath you.

One of his big hands splays out against the bare skin of your back, holding you in place against him. You nuzzle your face into his neck, inhaling his scent as his soft brown locks tickle your face. You feel the cloth of his boxers growing wet pressed against your soaked core and you want to grind down on him, but the sleepiness hits you almost immediately, your eyelids growing heavy once again.

“Such a good girl, princesa. Just for me huh?” Javi whispers, making you smile as the scruff on his jaw tickling your cheek when he talks.

He lifts your chin with the fingers of his clean hand, silently asking you for a kiss. You sit up just enough to cup his face with both of your hands before pressing your lips softly against his. A small whimper tumbles out of your mouth and into his when you he licks into your mouth, your taste still heavy on his tongue. It’s a soft kiss, allowing you to relax into it, your lips warm wet lips gliding easily over his.

You pull back to take a breath and Javi smiles at you, soft and sweet.

You snuggle your face back into his neck, your eyes slipping closed once again. You feel him move around before you hear the click of his zippo and the soft crackling of his cigarette as his takes a long drag. You listen to his pulse slow down and his breathing even out as he finishes his cigarette, the nicotine quickly relaxing his body. You’re almost asleep again when he stubs out the cherry in the ash tray.

“Let’s get you back in bed”

He moves his hands to your ass and you wrap his arms around his neck, nuzzling your face back into his warm neck. He makes sure that the blanket is fully covering you before standing up. You wrap your legs around his waist, trusting him fully as he carries you back inside.

He gently lies you down on your back but you still cling to him, not letting him stand back up.

He chuckles lightly, moving to press a kiss to your jaw.

“I’m just gonna get a rag to clean us up” Javi says quietly, his voice muffled with his lips still pressed to your skin.

You sigh and unwrap your arms and legs from him. You roll over on to your stomach, squishing the side of your face into the cool silk pillowcase as you fold your arms under the pillow.

“Good girl”

He presses sweet kisses to your shoulder, lightly squeezing your ass before standing up.

He barely takes three steps before he hears you.

“Javiiiii” you whine, your heavy lidded eyes looking over your shoulder at him. He turns on his heel to look at you, worry and concern washing over him.

“What’s wrong, princesa?” He asks, padding back over to the edge of the bed and placing a soft hand on your shoulder.

“Still want you” you whine quietly, looking up at him through heavy eyelids.

“Oh baby” Javi coos, rubbing his hand over your soft, warm skin. “You swallow my cock and squirt all over my hand and your little pussy is still needy for me?”

“Need you to fill me up, Javi. Wanna stretch around you” you whine, slightly tilting your ass into the air. Javi smiles that soft smile, letting you know that he’ll take care of you and you let your eyes fall shut.

You feel his hand trail down your back until it meets his other one to palm your cheeks. You hum happily, delighted by the feeling of his big warm hands on you.

You feel the bed dip with Javi’s weight as he settles on his knees between your thighs. He gently pulls your cheeks apart, cool air rushing over your hot wet seam.

“Jesus Christ, princesa” Javi moans, the soft lighting in the bedroom finally allowing him to see how wet you are.

He spits softly above you, not that you need it at all but because he can. He watches intently as its drops from his lips and you moan into the pillow when you feel Javi’s spit slide down your crack and pool around your tight hole. His cock starts to quickly harden again in his boxers.

“Love all your perfect little holes, princesa” Javi grunts.

He runs his thumb through the mess between your thighs before circling your puckered hole. You gasp when he presses his the tip of his thumb into your tight hole, your body starting to tremble again.

“You want me to play with your little asshole baby?” Javi teases before letting more spit dribble out of his mouth and onto you, adding to the mess between your legs.

”Need you inside me Javi, wanna cum around you” you whine, your tight hole squeezing around Javi’s thumb as your cunt clenches around air.

He tucks the idea into his back pocket, saving of destroying your tight little hole for another day.

“You really need it bad, don’t you baby” Javi says almost in disbelief.

You lift your hips up, trying your best to wiggle your ass in front of Javi’s face. He takes the hint, moving off the bed to quickly kick off his boxers. He’s back between your legs within seconds, pressing his cock against your cunt and sliding up in the wet mess until his tip catches on your asshole.

“Javi please”

Javi smacks your cheek, making yo cry out as he grinds harder against your slit.

“I’m gonna give you what you want, baby, but you need to be patient.”

You whimper into the pillow and fist your hands into the blanket by your face. Your chest burns from your heavy pants as he slides his hot and heavy cock through your folds getting himself wet with your slick.

You gasp when finally feel him notch his thick head at your dripping entrance. He sinks into you in one languid stroke, filling you up to the brim without letting you adjust to his size.

You both moan loudly together not worried about anyone hearing anymore. He starts with a slow pace, pulling out until just his tip is inside before pushing back in until he’s bumping against your cervix. Your eyes roll back into your skull, loud moans pouring out of you as Javi fills you. You can barely breathe, Javi punching the breath out of lungs every time he thrusts inside of you.

You feel his fingertips dig into your skin as he grips your hips and he holds you in place, exactly where he wants before he’s snapping his hips, fucking into you at a brutal pace.

You howl into the pillow as he slams into you. He’s so deep that you swear you can feel him in your throat. You can’t stop moaning, tears forming in the corners of your eyes as he continues to ruin you, not letting up on his pace for even a second. You try to scoot up the bed, try to create a bit of distance from him just so you can catch your breath. He does not take kindly to that.

He snakes one hand up your spine, grabs a fist full of hair and pulls, causing you to arch your back and push your hips further into his. Hot pain shoots through your scalp and down your spine, mixing deliciously with the pleasure that’s consuming you.

“Nuh-uh, baby. You asked for this so don’t fuckin run from it now” Javi growls through clenched teeth.

You cry out again, and Javi lets out a loud moan of his own from behind you when he feels your walls grip him so impossibly tight that he can’t move inside of you for a couple of seconds.

He suddenly lets go of your hair, instead opting to push your head against the pillow. He makes sure that you can still breathe but he holds you there, hand heavy on your head as he continues to pummel into you.

“Squeezing me so tight, baby. You like when I’m rough with you?”

He obviously doesn’t have to ask. He knows you like the back of his hand, can read your body like a books he’s read a thousand times before. He knows you fucking love it and even if he didn’t, the way your slick leaks out around him and drips onto the sheets below would be a good indicator.

Javi folds over you, moving his hand from your head so he can rest on his forearms, caging your body underneath his. His pace doesn’t falter, not even for a second.

“Tell me baby. Tell me who’s makin you feel this good” Javi growls in your ear.

His words, the feeling of his hot breath and the sound of his delicious gasps and grunts makes you whine loudly.

“Tell me right now, princesa. Or else I’ll fucking stop right now and leave you trembling here alone”

“Javi, fuck! Javi it’s you. You’re so fucking big, getting so deep. Feels so good, baby” you babble, every word you say punctuated by his hips snapping into you harshly.

Javi let’s out a groan of satisfaction.

“That’s right, baby. I’m the only one who can fuck you this good, only one who can properly stuff this needy fucking cunt”

You sob at his words, your cry morphing into a scream when he starts to thrust right into your g-spot. You see stars behind your eyelids, white hot waves of pleasure crashing down on you. Moan after moan tumbles out of lips as he holds the same position, fucking up into your spot over and over again.

“That your special spot, princesa? Am I gonna make you cum again ‘round my fat cock?”

All you can manage is another sob and a vigorous nod against the pillow. Javi’s pressing messy, open mouth kisses to your back and neck, licking, biting, and sucking wherever he pleases. The delectable combination of the scent of his cologne with the scent of the specific brand of cigarettes he always smokes, and whiskey he always drinks swirls around and fills your head while his heavy weight pressing on top of you is making you absolutely feral. The ball of pleasure of swelling in your abdomen, quickly getting tighter and tighter with Javi’s every thrust.

“Cum for me, baby. Can feel you squeezing and I wanna feel you soakin me again” Javi grunts.

He barely gets the last word out before your you’re flying off the edge again. You positively scream as your orgasm rips through you, pure electricity coursing through your veins making your whole body tremble violently underneath him.

He can’t keep himself together, not when you’re shaking and squeezing this hard and especially not when you’re gushing around around him, soaking his lower abdomen and the sheets below you with your release. He reaches his own release seconds after you. His thrusts get sloppy until his hips stall, his cock buried inside of you as deep as possible, unloading a massive load with a long strangled moan. He cums for what feels like forever, a string of curses and your name tumbling out his mouth until he collapses on top of you.

It takes a good while before both of you return to your bodies. You’re still shaking from the intensity of your earth shattering orgasm. Your whole body is so sensitive that Javi’s hot and breathy pants on your back feels like flames are licking your skin. Your chest and throat burn from your screams and raspy breaths and your walls are still contracting rhythmically around his softening cock.

“Fuckin hell, baby” Javi says with a breathless chuckle.

You can feel the vibrations of his chest on your back and it makes your eyes flutter shut as you sink deeper and deeper into pure bliss. He’s starts pressing warm, wet, open mouthed kisses to your back, shoulders, and neck again, his way of saying thank you and maybe even those three little words he still can’t say to you even after all this time.

Javi eventually slowly pulls out of you with a hiss and you shamelessly whimper at the loss of feeling of his cock splitting you in half. You immediately feel his cum trickling out of you but his fingers are just as quick, coming up to slide through your folds and gently push his release back inside of you with a low, almost possessive sounding groan.

You let out a soft cry, your whole body lurching as his fingers slides his fingers in and out of you’re sensitive hole for a few more seconds.

When he’s had his fill, he removes his fingers and presses a long, soft kiss to your hip before standing up.

You hear him walking to the bathroom and turn on the faucet and then he’s back to clean you up with a warm wet rag. Your limbs are jello as deep relaxation fills your body and your sleepiness starts to quickly creep back in. Javi’s laser-focused on being as gentle as possible as he cleans you up, relishing the sweet soft whimpers that you probably don’t even realize your making.

He presses as another kiss to your shoulder before he leaves again. This time he comes back with a glass of water, holding to straw to your lips. You glance up at him as you gulp the water down, his brows furrowed in concentration making sure you drink enough.

When your both satisfied, he sets the water down on the nightstand as you slip your eyes shut. You feel the bed dip as he climbs in next to you, immediately wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into his chest, just like how you fell asleep. He makes sure that you’re not touching the wet spot of the bed before snuggling his face against your shoulder and shutting his eyes that have suddenly gotten very heavy.

Changing the sheets can wait until the morning he thinks to himself as he squeezes you just a bit tighter and quickly slips into deep, heavy sleep. You’re the best goddamn sleeping pill there is.

Thanks for reading :) This is my return to writing after 5 years and first time ever writing for Javi so lmk if you liked it! Maybe send me a request!

#javier pena x reader #javier pena smut #javier pena #javier pena narcos #javier pena x you #javier pena x female reader #pedro pascal characters #javier pena fic #javiscigarette

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hyperdramas · 1 month ago

Text

pitapat | lee seokmin

pairing: lee seokmin x reader

warnings: non-idol!au, boyfriend!seokmin, sleepy!seokmin, bratty!seokmin (not really, reader calls him that once), domestic fluff, kissing, pet names/nicknames (reader uses 'babe', 'seokkie'; seokmin uses 'love', 'angel'), seokmin lays in reader's lap, sleepy!seokmin is a menace (a cute one nevertheless), waking up seokmin for the day proves to be a hard task for reader, cutesy morning antics ensue

now playing: pitapat (dkdk), fromis9 (see what i did there)

a/n: that first picture did something to me when i first saw it i'm gonna use it again just you wait☝

word count: 1063

"Seokmin, please get up." Sighing, you draw the curtains open, letting the sunlight stream though as your eyes automatically squint at the bright light.

Even though today is Saturday, you and your boyfriend have a lot of errands to run—groceries, buying dinner preparations, making book returns, scheduling a house hunting day, and cleaning your house for Seokmin's parents' visit were all on the itinerary for today, and you had to start now or you'd be behind schedule.

Due to your sleepy boyfriend's antics, though, you were close to being twenty minutes late.

"Seokkie, we've got to get moving. We have to go buy groceries and dinner preparations or we're not going to have a good lunch or breakfast later today." You shook him softly as he groaned, turning away from you as he continued to sleep, unbothered with your plea.

After a few minutes of tidying your room and hoping Seokmin would wake you, you resorted to kissing him all over—his arms, his legs, his cheek, and everything—to let him know that it was time to get up and start moving.

But, of course, your loving boyfriend hadn't moved an inch.

Seokmin was a heavy sleeper on weekends, and he wasn't one to stop routines out of the blue—it was almost already 10 am, and you had wanted to leave the house at 9:40 to get a headstart, but Seokmin had still not gotten out of the bed yet.

The sun was streaming through the windows too, birds chirping and singing along with the breeze—you were surprised the sunshine boy himself wasn't stirred by the warmness on his tanned skin, but he was sleeping like a rock, sharp nose buried into the soft pillow.

As you sighed, he let out a little snore like his was purposefully taunting you and the fact you couldn't wake him up with just your words.

Shuffling to the bed (still in your pajamas since you obviously weren't going anywere), you pile on top of him seconds later, pulling a groan from out of him as he starts to wake up.

"Seokmin, we've gotta go. We've got errands to run, babe." Your hands find a comfortable place on his neck, playing with the curly locks of hair resting at the nape of his neck.

"Angel, let's stay home, please?" Seokmin goes quiet for an odd amount of seconds, as if he's still sleep, but you know he's stirring, as his deep breath becomes more shallow and his muscles tense under you.

After a few seconds, he starts to turn on his back, and grasping the memo, you dive to the side, avoiding nearly being squashed by your cute yet very built boyfriend.

"Do we have to? I'm tired, angel—so sleepy and so comfortable and warm here," Seokmin's voice is groggy from sleep, but he still affords to let out a cute whine, to which you laugh and push the strands of hair from his eyes. His eyelashes flutter against his skin before his eyes open, revealing bleary and wet dark brown eyes.

"Yes, we have to, Seokkie. You want to make your mom's seaweed to surprise her, right?" Seokmin is half-asleep, eyes sharp and half-opened as he nods slightly, barely even moving his head.

He moves slowly in his spot, finding your lap before he adjusts his head to be laying on your lap. Your hands fall on his hair, moving the strands back from his face again as he nuzzles into your lap. Giggling as his face tickles your thighs, you push him away, leaving a limp Seokmin to continue to sleep for a bit more as you check your phone quickly.

Time was slipping away from you more and more, and you sighed, putting your phone away as you turned back to the impending task at hand: waking Seokmin up.

You press your warm finger to the corner of his resting eyes to get rid of the sleepiness from his eyes. "You need to get up and get ready—you have sleepiness residue, you know."

Seokmin lets out a small giggle, lips turning into a tired half-smile as he finally takes the initiative and tries toopens his eyes, stretching like a cat as his arms tense and he groans. "Sleepiness residue? What's that?"

"You know, the small crusts that form around your eye when you sleep, Seokkie," You sigh, obviously not exasperated for real as Seokmin chuckles at your explantation. "Sleepiness residue—I've never heard it be called that."

Sighing again at your boyfriend's slow yet tired mind, you start to get up, seemingly pulled back in bed at the second you have the thought to leave. Seokmin reaches his arms out to you like a tired baby, a pout on his lips as he still struggles to open his eyes.

"I like sleepiness residue, love. I wan' more." Seokmin's words start to slur, signaling his departure again. You act quick, slipping your hand behind Seokmin's stationary head and struggle to lift him up for a second before you lay him on the headboard.

"Seokmin, please. I need you to get up, babe." You say firmly, and Seokmin glares at you, eyes sharp and half-lidded yet making your heart flutter as he frowns. "I need my coffee."

"Lee Seokmin—don't you dare get bratty with me." You say, and Seokmin mumbles something sleeplingly, adding "I'm not," at the end of whatever he just said.

And here comes the onset of "Bratty 'I need it now' Seokmin", you think to yourself.

"And you will get your coffee, babe, I swear it. Now please—will you get up?" You quesetion, and Seokmin pauses, pretty eyes rolling in annoyance as he reluctantly agrees and makes his way out of the bed and into the bathroom.

"Fine." Seokmin has a pout on his face, and you kiss the corner of his lips before kissing him directly on his lips a few times. "Thank you, babe, I appreciate it." Seokmin doesn't reply, obviously a bit cranky at the fact that you woke him up early.

Seokmin always seems to recover from his tantrum when he's had his coffee, and you had a surprise waiting for him—two iced americanos and a pack of warm powered donuts at Seokmin's favorite coffee place.

"I love you, Seokmin. I hope you know that, babe." You remind him, and he nods, mumbling a sad "I know." as his mouth is still stuffed with a toothbrush. Pecking his lips—and earning the softest, cutest smile from your boyfriend you've think you've seen—the two of you finally get ready for the day.

taglist: @kyeomssant, @realmofclouds, @oojiehae, @kstrucknet (comment to be added!) || comments, reblogs, and likes are always appreciated! don't be shy to pop up in my inbox either <3

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vainvenus · 8 months ago

Note

I would kill for someone to write for book!percy or movie!percy everyone’s writing for luke and Clarisse rn 💕

⌲;꒰ Sweet dreams. ꒱

Pairing :: Percy Jackson x Gn!Reader

Synopsis :: Percy's been having trouble sleeping so he goes to you for help.

Includings :: Cabin 15!/Hypnos!Reader, nightmares/night terrors, crying, lots of comfort, lots of fluff, established relationship, this is a lil short but very cute n sweet

An :: Not dead yall

It was a slow and peaceful day at the camp. The weather was especially perfect today. Usually it was too hot for your likings, leaving you to sleep the day away in your cabin but tody was more than tolerable. It was warm with a light breeze going by. The sun shining down just enough but not enough to where it felt like your skin was going to melt.

You had no set activities for the day, laying next to the lake on one of your favorite blankets and soaking up the good weather while it lasted.

You were close to drifting off when a familiar voice piped up.

"Mind if I join you?"

You immediately smiled as you opened your eyes to see Percy, but it faltered a bit as you saw the state he was in.

He seemed tired, exhausted even. There were dark circles under his sea-green eyes. His jet black hair a lot messier than it usually was, like it hadn't seen a brush or comb in days.

"What's wrong?" You asked, rolling over onto your stomach as you watched Percy take a seat next to you on your blanket, copying your movements.

You reached to play with a few strands of his hair. His eyes shutting in comfort at your touch as he let out a small sigh. "Nothing."

"Perseus."

He groaned heavily at the use of his full name as he moved a little bit closer, resting his head on your bicep as your fingers twisted in his hair. "You know I hate it when you use my full name."

"And you know I hate it when you lie to me. Talk to me." You persisted, nails running along his scalp. He was quiet for a moment before he sighed again.

"I just haven't been able to sleep well. I keep having these nightmares and I wake up in a sweat, all panicked and I can't go back to bed." He said and your brows creased in worry.

"Why haven't you told me? I could have helped." He shrugged, rubbing his eye a bit as he let out a small yawn. "I didn't want to bother you with something childish like nightmares."

"It's not childish. I use to have a handful of nightmares, they happen to all of us, Percy." You reassured him.

"If you want, I could sleep in your cabin. If you have a nightmare I could easily help." You offered and Percy smiled softly.

"Like a little sleepover?" He said, his voice trailing off a bit as his body eased a bit more. It was his favorite thing about being around you, he felt so comfortable and a bit sleepy.

"Like a little sleepover." You confirmed, shutting your eyes as you saw his. You smiled after you saw him mostly still, his body moving up and down softly. You hummed, keeping your fingers in his hair as you drifted off along with him.

★

Percy let out a happy sigh as he opened the door and saw your face, moving aside so that you could come in.

"Thank God you're here, I was starting to worry you feel asleep and forgot." He said, scratching the back of his head and you giggled under your breath.

"Just go to bed, I'll be right here if you have a nightmare." You reassured him as you got comfortable moving to pull the covers over the two of you as you wrapped your arm around him and rested your head on his shoulder.

He nodded, slowly drifting off to sleep just by you being so close to him. The scent of lavender lightly hitting his nose as you snuggled closer to him. He let out a small yawn before completely falling asleep.

And it had only been a while before he started to shift around next to you. You let out a small groan as he kicked you in your ankle from moving around and you quickly sat up, looking down at him.

You were about to complain until you realized he was having a nightmare, brows knitting together as his face was scrunched in discomfort, small mumbles leaving his lips but none you could actually make out.

You decided to give him his privacy and not peak into what he was dreaming about but you could just manipulate his dream. You leaned closer to him, placing a hand on his cheek as you whispered under your breath.

"You're fine...you're fine..." You hushed as he twisted and turned, small droplets of gathering at his forehead and you dapped it away with your sleeve.

"Let's have you dream about something nice, something you love." Your brows furrowing as you thought for a second before it came to you. "Like us having the most wonderful day at the beach. The weather's perfect, we're wearing matching swimsuits, we got your favorite ice cream.."

A small smile made it's way on to your face as you saw him calming down, his body easing at your touch as a smile melted onto his face in place of the tense expression. His face leaning into the palm of your hand.

You hummed, keeping your hand placed at his cheek as you got back comfortable from behind him. You pulled the covers back over the two of you and leaned over to place a kiss on his forehead.

"Sweet dreams, Percy. Love you."

#percy jackson #percy jackson books #percy jackson x reader #pjo #pjo books #pjo x reader

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almond-tofuuu · 9 months ago

Text

Whispers of forever

Rafayel x reader

we take a break from our usual Zayne content to bring you a fluffy Rafayel fic, in honour of his birthday 🎂

Warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, Rafayel (bc he should come with his own warning), reader is called miss bodyguard, ooc Rafayel? (it's my first time writing for him so I apologise if he's kinda ooc)

Happy birthday to our favourite Mermaid!!!! 🎉🎁🎂

The early morning sun filtered in through the large open window of Rafayel's bedroom, casting its warming glow across the expanse of his bed, causing your skin to tingle under the pleasant heat. Groaning softly as your eyes fluttered open, you stretch your arms before reaching out to the side, hands subconsciously searching for Rafayel, longing to curl into his chest and fall back asleep. But your hands are met with empty sheets, the spot beside you where Rafayel sleeps is cold, clearly he's been up for a while now. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes you push yourself up to sit on the edge of the bed, bare feet meeting the fluffy carpet below.

"Well well, look who's finally decided to wake up~" the familiar teasing tone brings a fond smile to your face, turning to find Rafayel lounging in a chair by the open window. A gentle breeze ruffles his soft, dusky hair, his handsome features illuminated by the sunlight, pale skin glowing under its rays. He truly is a sight to behold, alluring appearance rivaling even the most magnificent masterpiece.

Rafayel tilts his head, playful smirk tugging at his lips "you seem a little distracted, miss bodyguard, don't tell me that my boundless good-looks have rendered you speechless?~" his usual teasing has you turning your head away, attempting to hide the heat rising to your cheeks, a pout forming on your lips at being caught staring. You can hear his chuckle followed by the shuffling of fabric as Rafayel rises from his seat, feet padding softly against the floor as he makes his way over to you. You feel his eyes on you as long, slender fingers play with a loose strand of your hair. "Don't be shy, I like it when you look at me. In fact~" his fingers gently trail along your jaw, tilting your chin upwards until your forced to meet his gaze, bluish-pink eyes holding a tenderness despite his teasing tone. "I want to be the only one you look at, now and forever"

Your eyes widen, blush deepening at the possible meaning behind his words, a nervous laugh bubbles from your lips "if I didn't know any better, I'd think that sounded like a proposal"

"And what if it was? Would you accept it?" His voice had lost its playful tone, replaced by a sudden vulnerability that was reflected in his eyes, making your breath hitch at the unusual seriousness in his face. The air is still around you, thrums with anticipation much like the quickened beating of your heart. Your eyes flicker over Rafayel's face, searching his expression for any indicators that this is just more of his usual teasing, that any minute now he's going to burst out laughing at the dumbfounded look on your face. But the earnest look in his eyes, so honest and hopeful and equally afraid, tells you that he means it. Your hand moves to rest over his palm that is cradling the side of your face, head leaning into his touch, a shaky exhale leaving you before your lips curve into a soft smile.

"Rafayel, nothing would make me happier than spending forever by your side" your voice is quiet, barely above a whisper, but it's overflowing with the depth of the love you feel for the man in front of you. You watch as Rafayel processes your answer, chest falling with the release of the breath he'd been holding in anticipation, gorgeous eyes lighting up as an equally gorgeous smile spreads across his face. You only got a second to admire it though as Rafayel tackled you in a hug, the both of you falling backwards onto the bed, giggling and sharing sweet, soft kisses. When you had both finally calmed down, you simply lay there, wrapped in eachothers embrace, your fingers tracing along the soft skin of Rafayel's exposed chest as his gentle stroked through your hair. Basking in the gentle glow of sunlight and the warmth of your love, Rafayel laid his forehead against yours, his eyes locking onto your own, and within them you saw a tidal wave of emotions. A tsunami of love, adoration and joy that threatened to drown out the rest of the world until all you could focus on was the man in front of you. The man you loved with all your heart.

"Don't forget your promise, miss bodyguard, you're mine now, forever. And my heart-" Rafayel gently hold your palm to his chest, letting you feel the strong, steady rhythm of his heartbeat. "My heart will forever be yours."

#love and deepspace #rafayel #rafayel love and deepspace #happy birthday rafayel #fluff #tooth rotting fluff #just happy times #lnd #lnds #lnds rafayel #rafayel x reader #rafayel x you #love and deepspace x reader

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missugu · 2 years ago

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sleepy - buddha | record of ragnarok

⊹︎ in which: buddha falls asleep under his favorite tree and really doesn’t want to let you go

⊹︎ warnings: none, fluff

⊹︎ word count: 1.08k

the air was chilled as it drifted by. goosebumps rising in the wake of the breeze on your skin.

it wasn’t too much yet. just a slight discomfort creeping slowly in, you could definitely ignore it. especially when your mind was pulled away from the cold, your attention shifting to the man lying beneath you.

he’d moved for a moment, his legs tangling with yours even more than they had before. for a second you weren’t sure if he’d woken up, but once he stilled again you got your answer.

trying your best you moved to look up at him, wanting to capture his face as he rested.

buddha was so pretty, especially with the tiniest of smiles that pulled at his lips when he slept. today was no different and you found your eyes glued to him.

warm light shining through the leaves of the branches above you danced with the shadows on his fair skin. his hair fell from the large messy bun on top his head, framing his face in the prettiest way. you couldn’t help but try to paint the image in your mind.

it was hard to memorize every detail of someone though, even if you’d seen him like this a thousand times before. every time you looked at him as he slept under the great oak tree he loved dearly you noticed something new, and today it was his glasses.

usually buddha liked to take them off before sleeping, just in case he were to roll over, but he nodded off too quickly this time. they rested nicely against the bridge of his nose, the right side dipping slightly lower than the left. you’d never known they were crooked, it brought a smile to your face.

slowly you took the glasses from his face, trying your best to not disturb him. once you placed them to your side you brought your hand back to his face, cupping his cheek ever so gently.

his skin was soft and just a bit cold. you hummed quietly, tracing your thumb across his cheekbone you wondered if he even felt the wind getting colder.

“what’re you doin’?”

you jumped at his voice. he hadn’t even opened his eyes so you figured he was still soundly asleep.

“don’t scare me like that,” you breathed out, feeling your heart pick up its pace a bit now. removing your hand from his face you pushed back a little. “i thought you were sleeping.”

“mmm, sorry.” buddha smiled and opened his eyes just enough to take in your face. “you can keep touchin’ me, i don’t mind.”

“when did you wake up?” you ignored his teasing even though it widened your smile as well.

“not sure.” he couldn’t remember exactly, but he knew it was before you woke up. his hand that had been resting on your hip moved up, running up and down your upper arm slowly. “you’re cold.”

“mhm.” you leaned back into him pressing your lips against his softly, only staying for a second you pulled away before he could respond.

“heyy.” he pouted, bottom lip pushing out in a dramatic fashion only he could pull off. “that was rude. don’t tease me with a fake kiss.”

“i’ll give you a real kiss if we can go back inside?” you offered, hoping he’d catch what your were trying to say. the sun had almost fully set now, there was barely any light coming over the horizon and it was starting to get even colder. you hadn’t dressed very warm.

“m’comfy here.” buddha yawned loudly, moving his arm to tuck you in close to him. “i can warm you up if you want.”

“or we could go inside?” you countered, pushing your hands against his chest trying to get out of his hold that was only growing tighter. “it’ll be much warmer in your room.”

“hmmm.” he opened looked up at you through heavily lidded eyes, you knew he was starting to fall asleep again.

“fine, you stay here and i’ll go sleep in your bed.” you sighed, still trying to get out of his arms.

“nooo, i’ll go with you.” he mumbled, pulling you back down against his chest fully. “gimme five more minutes here.”

“deal.” you gave in, knowing that he wasn’t going to budge. “only five minutes, then your room, okay?”

“‘kay.” that was all he answered, shutting his eyes once more.

“can we bring a blanket out here next time?” you rested your head against him, tucking it neatly under his chin. you could feel his breathing slowing and you weren’t sure if he’d heard you.

“m’not warm enough for you?” he teased though he was starting to feel the chill himself now.

“nope, sorry. i might have to find another god that is hotter.” you teased back and immediately you felt his body grow warmer.

“that is not happening.” buddha sounded serious now, but you could still hear an amused undertone in his voice.

“no it’s not.” you mirrored his words, pushing up to press your lips against his once more. this time you stayed, waiting for him to respond to the soft kiss.

you could taste the lingering flavor of blueberry on his lips, and you didn’t have to tease him this time, he lazily kissed you back in such a way that was special to him. it still never failed to twist your stomach into butterflies and pick up your heartbeat just enough for you to feel it in your chest.

“i thought you were gonna to wait until we went in.” he mused, his warm breath drifting on your lips once you finally pulled away.

“i changed my mind.” you closed the gap between your lips and kissed him again, your tongue parting his lips slightly to dance with his. you treasured the small moan you coaxed from him, but only for a moment before you pulled away abruptly, using his distraction as a chance to slip out of his hold.

“oh you’re mean.” buddha stared up at you, pouting once more, he couldn’t believe you’d tricked him like that.

you only smiled innocently down at him, knowing that was enough to make him decide to get up. he slowly accepted the hand you offered to him, smiling when you immediately laced your hands together.

“c’mon, i’m freezing.”

“yeah, yeah.” buddha shook his head at you before being your hand up to press a small kiss to the back of it. “let’s go warm you up.”

#buddha #buddha fluff #buddha record of ragnarok #buddha x reader #buddha record of ragnarok fluff #buddha drabble #buddha x you #buddha one shot #record of ragnarok #record of ragnarok fluff #record of ragnarok drabble #buddha imagine #Gautama Siddhartha #Gautama Siddhartha fluff #ROR #ror x reader #ror fluff #buddha x y/n

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rel124c41 · 8 months ago

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SUNDO. jade leech

This is the beginning: you walk into Osaka Bay, sound asleep. This is the end: you are dragged into Osaka Bay, wide awake … and screaming.

tags: japanese mythology & folklore, religious imagery & symbolism, yokai AU, attempted rape/non-con, inspired by Den lille Havfrue by Hans Christian Andersen, sleepwalking, yandere, blood and gore, immortality, declaration of love, did andersen want to fuck fish? i think so!

word count: 9,114

Timid, you step into the water.

Behind closed eyelids, the muscle and nerves of your eyeball flicker like insect wings. Your eyelashes may rest delicate in the closed oyster position but your eyeballs move alert underneath the thin skin.

By closing your eyes, it allows you to see a new world. Sight often blocks and trumps other sensations. With purpose, you narrow yourself to reflect upon the touch of a breeze, the sound of cicadas, and the shape of water embracing your ankles. You spread yourself out, imaging yourself in the wind, and then your eyes pulse under your eyelid skin.

You fly deeper into the lake with a yell of, “I see you!” And suddenly, you shrink down to the size of a six year old child from your adult body, missing your top left canine tooth and wearing a kimono pattern with abstract art of yellow squares and violet rectangles.

In the water, a boy laughs and says, “That can’t be true!”

“Yes it is!”

“But your eyes are closed!”

Eager hands squirm and dive through the water. Fingers reach out like hawk talons, squeezing unsqueezable water. In your hark of the earth, you hear the fierce splashes of you punching into the water to grab your friend. Laughing, you trip over yourself, falling breast first in water, managing to pick yourself up in time just as the lake licks at your throat. Three different voices laugh at you but you only hunt for one.

“I swear, I see you!”

“No way!”

In your attentiveness of your surroundings, you feel the smile that grows on your face. Water leaps up at your cheeks like sparks of a fire. When you laugh, salt slips in your mouth. Suddenly, you change angles and reach to your right instead of your left. The water there moves in a panic. Laughing, you bring up both your hands, readying to push them into the water.

The sun is warm. The water is cool. From the tree, in the breeze, thousands of leaves say in one voice, “My little Muyūbyō. My little sleepwalker. You are going too deep.”

“Mom?”

The hanging leaves are green and lush. “You’re going too deep, (Name).”

You wake up. The rainbow of ways one can wake up is endless and numerous. However, no one really considers waking up to be a varying, changeable state of things. Each unique rise into the waking realm differs slightly.

Today, you wake up like a crab has pinched firmly the tendon running down your upper hamstring. Today, you wake up shin-deep in the lake. Your mother is right. You are going too deep. The water usually stays up to your ankles. The sight greatly disturbs you and your hamstring tendon drums with the full body pain.

That boy. You wonder on the identity of that young boy. Why could you not catch him if you had him right in your sight? Your seeing varies often; sometimes the world is as clear as newly polished glass and other times you are trying to look through a looking glass that is grime and sand stained. His voice – his voice was almost as familiar as your mother's warning.

Eyes enucleated, you would always know your mother’s voice.

Backpedaling, you move and watch until the embrace around your legs slides down goosebumped skin and lies quivering around your ankles.

You look at the sunrise peering over the lake. Hinode starts the upward ascend, pink and orange light falling over the world. Water almost shimmers around your ankles with the welcome benevolence of the rising sun.

Yet with its welcome comes the banishment of the only company you have. Well, for the most part. Even the mischievous kappa, river spirits, will vanish with the sun. You look for them nonetheless, knowing you make sure to fall asleep with cucumbers in your nightwear; food for the yokai, just to certain their volatile hungers are quelled.

You —

You have always been able to see yokai.

Your parents have called you blessed because of it. As a sleepwalker, you are closer to the spirit world than the normal, spirit-blind citizens of the island Kyushu. Despite being blessed, your parents kept your habit of sleepwalking out of the village’s hippocampus — as they would surely see it as a mark of possession.

So much for parental precaution, you are already seen as the village’s resident boogeyman even without them knowing you move in nightly rest.

Perhaps it is a fault of your own.

Perhaps the blame lies on your parents.

You can pinpoint where it went wrong though. Since the incident, you have known you would be kindred to the boogeyman. Despite all the piling up evidence, there is no clearly given perpetrator. Who does the blame of the crime go to for being a boogeyman against one’s will? The crime of that day and then the crime of being yourself. You: eldritch evil in human clothings.

Sekia (the walking world) and ikai (the ‘other’ world), you walk between those and that is a crime.

You would never point the fingers at your God though. The very thought of it makes your stomach tighten like rope and you press your palms flat into your abdomen to resist the urge to puke. God, your last remaining parent.

Shinto is an indigenous faith in Japan but you are born of a time period far too back to even toy with the idea of calling it indigenous. Shinto believes that one is born fundamentally good but struggles with evil spirits. You are born with a mark of evil. Born bad, you defy the religion you preach, practice, and love as if it is an old friend.

Despite that, where you live is in a Shinto shrine, atop a mountain, by a lake.

And, with a frown blemishing your pretty face, you look behind, up at the mountain you have to climb to go home.

Behind the Shinto shrine is a clothesline for drying cottons and silks. It stretches, a pinned butterfly wing, from tree to tree. All that hangs from them is only wet at the bottom. You squeeze the bottom of the nightwear you put there the previous day. Still damp. Ah, if only the elevation was not so high up. This would dry up quicker if I was living off the mountain. It is April and spring is ushering in. Still, it is mildly cold at the isolated point where you live.

You do not think you could stomach the air down in the village. Thin air is all you know. Adapting to glutinous air would be like drowning on land, a paradox regarding your lungs. You pull your nightwear off the skin covering your twin lungs, one hand on each tomoerio of the yogi.

It gathers delicately around your hamstrings before you pull it around the crook of your elbow. Straightening it out, you add the damp fabric to the clothesline. One arm cupping your nude breasts, you compare the height of water to previous nightwear. There is slight discoloration, the bottom a dark gray and navy blue and the rest white and blue as cornflower.

You tense when you look down the clothesline. Finding by one by one that the height of damp decreases in a staircase pattern. It would make sense. Ones that have been on the clothesline longer would be less soaked. But you know better.

You have been going deeper. You have no idea why but you have been walking deeper into the lake.

When you were very young – on the journey to turn two years old in a month or so – you were found in the lake. Above, in the mountaintop, horrified, mournful screams stabbed the air. Your name – screamed with tears and fright in each letter – soared like a tengu bird. Sleeping upright, you were unaware until a hand grabbed you and wrenched you back into the world.

“(Name). Oh my, (Name), my baby!”

When your fretful mother realizes years later that you cannot stop sleepwalking, she only asks one thing of you: to not go deeper than your ankles. You claw at the softest on your chest to get your heart to stop pounding so fretful. Next time, you will reel yourself back before you disobey.

There are a hundred eyes peeking through the paper sliding doors and a trail of footsteps that are too petite to be yours trailing across the cypress wood floors of your home. These are curing images to your heart.

With a smile and hum, you trail a finger across the wall. Multiple eyes blink at the motion like a herd of butterfly wings twitching at a breeze. Leaving behind wet, much larger footprints, you walk through the Shinto shrine to your bedroom. It is time to dress for the arising sun. The sticky smell of stale sulfur and sea trails after you. The yokai of your father’s Shino shrine welcome this familiar scent.

You never had any childhood friends. Quite a desolate thought, yes? Not entirely for you. Never having childhood friends, you cannot sensibly yearn for it with a desperate longing or be saddened by the statement. You never had any childhood friends.

For some reason, you have false snippets of a sekai, a waking world, with a childhood friend with one sun eye and one moon eye. Blended between the realities like you are. And an odd shattered dream made by your hippocampus made of yearning you do not have.

Origami is today’s shared activity. With slices of colored paper the boy has gifted you, you take to folding them into numerous animals. Creasing paper between your fingers and pinching edges with your nails. You work diligently on yours, spine facing the mountain.

You squish down the snake-head-shape the paper has fallen into until you get the diamond you want. With a prideful smile, you continue, fold by fold. You pull bottom up and get an open mouth; when you push both edges inward, you get the squashed wings done, halfway there.

Spine facing the lake, your companion continues on with his. His nails are whetted like a cleaver so he gets preciser and cleaner edges with his origami. Despite the fact he could make something more challenging, his design is simpler and less complicated than yours. He is just finishing up the tail by folding the right corner of the tiny triangle into the middle.

“Azul’s been making a lot of frogs. He says each frog he makes is another coin his future self will soon have.”

“There must be a whole army of them by now then!”

“A militia is more appropriate. I worry one day he will find himself lying down in the grave he has made, drowning under washi paper. The folly of his want.” The boy says this with a facade’s frown; there is really no concern in his mannerisms.

“You say that like you aren’t greedy.”

“Hm … not for things like money, other things.”

You miss the way his eyes burn and shine because you are working on modeling the paper body of your animal. You enjoy your time spent with Jade, this fabricated friend your hippocampus made of the clay of your brain, dearly.

“Food?”

“Ah … well, I suppose that is one of the other things.”

“What else are you greedy for?” You cannot fathom that Jade wants anything more to eat. He is very gluttonous like his brother and octopus friend besides his lithe, feminine frame.

“For one thing –”

“Aha! Finished!”

Eager and proud, you hold up the origami animal. Your creases and folds are not too pristine but the product of effort is still majestic. A crane. The bird said to live a thousand years. “Pretty isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Let’s switch ours.” Your hands make a grab for the origami fish in Jade’s hands.

“But it is the first time you have been able to make a crane successfully. Most people want to keep milestones.” He cannot fathom why you are so eager to share. “The crane should stay with you.”

“But I want to share it with my best friend.”

You wake up like the clap of a baseball in a mitt. Your eyes fly open as the baseball is thrown with a resounding bark of fetch, soaring like an arrow and returning to the second glove. A consciousness thrown between two gloves. The left side of your face feels numb and medicated.The water is up to your shins again, disobedient. Backpedaling without hesitation, you scratch at the side of your face. It feels like a cluster of barnacles are weighing down west facing skin.

You yawn as the sun, the hinode, comes up. A thousand years. What a long time; you could never fathom living such an infinite amount of time. Salt and grime staining your nightwear, you step onto the shore. You would never want to live a thousand years like this.

Another never of yours? You never had any childhood friends.

There are no absolutes in Shinto.

“This is impossible,” you whisper.

“There are no absolutes,” a man replies.

Somehow and someway, you are being wedded. Done with your fruitless attempts to open your eyes, you resign to verbally negotiating your way out of this lucid dream. You have to get out of here but the water has hardened to cement around your legs. You are unsure if this is a fabricated dream, a fabricated memory of a fake world, or if this is the ‘other’ world. Unsure of where you tread, you desperately want the sun to break apart this nightmare.

That is impossible. I am a miko. A miko must be unmarried. I am my father’s helper and I cannot be wedded.

The man replies to your thoughts: That is not true. You are not a miko. The priest is dead. You can be wedded.

No. I cannot wed.

The white kosode kimono covers over your skin like a constant itch. Somehow and someway, without opening your eyes, you know that you are wearing wedding attire. You feel the distribution of another set of legs in the lake. There is an awful weight on your finger.

There are vows being spoken by a siren’s voice. A trickling scale on a piano voice. It feels oddly like you cannot create new memories. Your dreams and thoughts evaporate like trickling sand, stolen. Everything dwindles and moves away like retreating waves.

Do you relinquish your immortal soul to this man?

Do you?

“Yes.”

“My love, a snake is coming.”

You wake up, off-kilter. You fall immediately due to that poor balancing board provided by uneven rocks. With a gasp, your hands go out to catch you, splashes resounding as you kneel down in the water. Another fierce splash follows. You scream as you watch a mamushi dive into the water where you were standing.

“Aa-Agh,” you gasp as you scramble up. “AH!” The world feels like trickling sand, all cascading down around you. A stumbling body turns wildly as the snake attacks. It bites the air and jumps in the water.

Its venomous fangs however are directed at the rising sun. Protectively, it attacks air. The mamushi does not attack you or your retreating, repeatedly falling form. You do not remember what you had just dreamed, pink sunlight on your back.

The only evidence that the impossible happened are your fast, retreating footprints embedded into the shore. But even those washed away with the brine of water, trickling away, stolen.

Tiny footsteps litter the inside of your shrine. After so many years, the footprints have become an infestation comparable to cockroaches, a black sole and five dotting toes. Prints from a zashiki warashi, a ghost girl. They are only seen by children and the house’s owner, but they stay visible to you because you became the owner of the house when you stopped being a child.

Zashiki warashi are said to bring good fortune and be guardians of the house they inhabit. You have had no problems unlike the slight troubles you have had with the eyes in your home. However, a little otherworldly company does not bother you like human company.

Footprints unsourced from a tangible body and eyes unsourced from a tangible head. How odd that you have grown used to that.

You make sure to avoid stepping on the trails of footprints as you walk through the honden, the main sanctity. You notice that the ghost girl’s footprints seem to avoid the heart of the shrine. Behind a cupboard that is seldom opened lies your God, the heart, your last remaining parent. You pass the cupboard and make your way to a window.

You watch the sunrise, contemplative. Sunlight intrudes in long rectangles and breaks the steady zig-zag lines of the zashiki warashi’s footprints. You kneel, clothed in wet nightwear, feet damp.

You remember the day of your parents’ death. It was the only day you awoke in bed instead of ankle deep in water. Thinking you were cured, excitement fueled your feet to the entrance of your father and mother’s bedroom. Excitement skids and burns down to ash as you hold the paper sliding door open, looking upon an empty bed.

It took only a few minutes to find them because even a fool could have guessed where this would end.

For some unlucky reason, you never slipped when walking down the mountain to the lake. Your mother worried it would happen so often. The image of your foot kissing and missing the ground. Like a ram miscalculating his step, you would plummet in her mind, body crunching and breaking as it ping-ponged down a dangerous slope.

Throat thick with salvia, you find them with a terrified cry. You press yourself tightly into a tree, weeping and screaming your miserable mind’s woes into the sekia.

Below you, they lie. Bodies bent like a cluster of twigs snapped for a fireplace and flesh smudged with blood and dirt. Bones point out elbows and knees, breaking the blanket of skin. Wrists and ankles are turned in unnatural positions. Their eyes stare up at the morning sky, the lilac pinks and blue amber of the sunrise like a colorful coffin above them. Up there, their God.

The incident made you the village’s boogeyman. Even if you were the good priest's daughter, their little blessing, the only suspect left for the crime was you.

“You were so wrong. I am not a blessing.”

The window gives no reply. Done with the standoffish nature of the glass fixture, you stand up. The seaweed squishes under your feet, salt grinding into your soles.

“And I am sorry that you were wrong.”

Lakes do not carry seaweed like this.

There is a hand around my ankle.

You wake up. Not violently like the times where your dreams throw you and not softly like your dreams kiss your eyelids open. Instead, you wake up like you have already been awake. No disturbance. Miraculously, there is no disjoint between dreaming and waking. So there is no need to find your footing as you look down.

You and a garappa stare at each other. His yellow eyes blink up at you, flicking water. Skin fern green and dotted with a dalmatian pattern of dark forest green is mostly submerged underwater. The only part of him that rises above the water is his snout and the webbed thumbnail around your right ankle.

In your ribcage, your heart pounds hard like a frog moving to a lilypad before it settles completely. Your one heartbeat length terror came from a single thought: God, he is huge.

Garappas and kappas can only be told apart by size. A garappa has limbs much longer than its twin, stretching out twice the typical size of a kappa. His entire arm is equivalent to your leg. Dizzy eyes track over his lengthy form. If he stood up, the estimated height would be about nine feet.

Rocks may be under your feet but you feel like the ground is shifting sand, webbing itself through your reality. At least, the garappa seems to not be hostile right now. Who’s to say about later?

You look down at the hand embracing around your ankle. Distorted under the water, it looks like your ankle and his hand are off center from the goosebump flesh of your leg above water. Solid flesh, green contrasting to brown, ripples together in up and down motions. You are so dizzy.

Touch-taste senses are a peculiar faucet of aquatic life. Octopus can lay their suckers upon a prey and drink up the sweetness of fear like a butterfly with nectar. You wonder what kind of taste the garappa might be siphoning from cold pores.

“Foon foon foon.” The garappa says, mouth of his snout circling to form the soft Os.

You do not fool yourself into thinking that is a friendly sound.

Garappas are elusive and cowards. This male might have been biding his time waiting for weeks of your sleepwalking to know if you were a threat or friend. To be caught by him and his inhuman strength means this was premedicated. Garappas are extremely fond of pranks and mischief, this you remember.

But what are you forgetting?

“Foon foon foon,” he says again.

“Hoon, hoon, hoon,” you reply, trying to replicate the call of his.

His eyes squint at you from behind the waving mass of black hair. It trails across his face like seaweed but his bright yellow irises are easy to spot among the ebony. His hold on you readjusts slightly at the sound of your voice, not tightening or loosening, just twisting around the indents of where your fibula and tibia met like someone using a pepper crusher.

There is definitely intelligence in those golden suns but that is not really the cause of unease. The unease comes from his size; the image you paint of him standing up and crowding over you. His legs would perhaps end where your collarbone starts.

Please do not stand up. Please do not stand up.

You wonder back to your taste. Would the spice of fear be hidden in the dish of your normal taste or would the spice of fear be an overpowering burn? The heart kept in your chest is very calm. It is tranquil as a sheep, resting in the dropped palpitations of sleep. Perhaps this is still a dream.

Then, the garappa starts to pull. It is a light, hesitant tug. When you hold firm, toes curling up to press tighter into the rocks underfoot, he lets up. His hold goes back to being concrete, unmoving even though the dilating ripples of water suggest different. You and him lock eyes again.

Then, the streamlined face vanishes and you are looking up at a sky of stars. You gasp as water hugs the back of your cotton yogi. A rock cushions your skull’s rapid descent and you wince. The hand on your ankle tugs and tugs.

As if the harsh kiss of the rock breaks a spell, you finally remember what you were trying to recount about the mischievous, prank-loving garappas. You look over the valley of your body, clothed in blue yogi nightwear, the supine side of you soaking wet, remembering. Garappas are known to be sexually aggressive.

“DAMNIT!”

Your arms move fast, grabbing at the sand and rock beside your chest, trying to lift yourself up. A fearful cry escapes you as the next tug disorients your arms and causes you to spill deeper into the lake. You watch wide-eyed as a webbed hand peels back the left side of your nightwear.

“Cut it out! Get off me! Get off!”

Ripples of water jump around your struggling form. You were correct about his measurements. The entire arm is the size of your leg. He trails it up past the gray and blue camellia sewn on your garment. You scream as you feel the touch of soft tissue of webbed fingers on your inner thigh.

A lucid part of you thinks the taste of your fear must be explosive.

You twist violently in the oppressing grip like a fish caught in a net. Chilled fingers grab at rocks around you, trying to pull yourself up onto shore. Your free leg kicks at the shoulder of the garrapa. Warmth blooms on your face when you are dragged again and a cut from ear to cheek is birthed.

“Get the fuck off!” You scream as loud as a banshee. Around you, summer cicadas answer your cry with their own melody and you hear a foon foon foon, almost like a laugh bubbling under the water.

And, just as webbed fingers hover over the apple of your sex, the world falls still and silent. Even the everlasting cicadas stop for the only time in their life. In the bubble of unreal quiet, you stare over your body at the hand dug into the skull of the garrapa.

The piscine hand is the color of tooth white. The knuckles are gradients of green bleeding off into an ebony black. You can tell because the only part of the hand that is not sunk into the garappa’s skull is a single thumb. The thumbnail is sharp as a knife, pressed in the mass of black hair. The arm trails down the neck and back of the garrapa and is indistinguishable under the black water.

You watch the garappa twitch. Still alive despite the four fingers bayonet through his head. His golden sun eyes stare at you as his hand moves down and wraps itself around your lower thigh. He squeezes hard as the four fingers press down, pull out, and press down once again, almost sensually erotic in their motions.

“Fo-Fo-Fo-Fo-Fo.”

You watch pleased as a trail of blood runs down the streamlined snout. Good. Die; never swim again; die-die-die!

Your respite is short lived as you are suddenly pulled down. A terrified cry rockets out of your throat. The hand burrow in the garrapa’s head stops in its descent back into black water, contemplative. The alive yet rigor-mortis grip is desperate and relentless on your thigh.

“Fo-Fo-Fo-Fo-Fo.” The dying garrapa coos like the cicadas chirp. If I go down, I will take you with me.

His circular mouth falls still, an empty O. You watch as red rushes up in an inking squirt to the surface of the night lake. Then, with a breakneck speed, the garappa and pearl white hand disappear. The now blood-stained water rises and moves like scales as their interlocked bodies go under without another word.

The cicadas start to make noise again. The marble surface of the lake reshape back into its flat, glossy appearance. Just a different color. On trembling arms, you start to shift yourself to sit with your posture up straight.

You glance down at the purling motions of your yogi. Under the cotton lies the amputated hand, torn at the shoulder, and now stuck on your thigh in true rigor-mortis. Mind blanking, you stand back up, ankle deep in red water.

Latched garrapa arm swinging between your legs like a front facing tail, you walk out of the lake, soaking wet all over.

You scrape yourself up the summit like a stubborn earthworm. Shaking hands grab familiar tree branches to hoist yourself. Frost-nibbled feet press hard into sediment to keep yourself up. At the top of the summit, just outside your home, the two lanterns of the entrance are lit. You shake harder and shiver harder with the cold.

The lake is on the backside of the shrine, so you slowly round the building. Inch by inch, more of the entrance is revealed to you beyond the thumping glow of lanterns. Two stone lion-dogs, komainu, guard protectively under the gold. The long tongue entrance grows with each hesitant step you take. Resting your hand on the Shinto shrine, you look towards the offering hall.

A man with silver hair kneels, hands clasped in prayer. His cheeks are tinted a pink from the chill of morning.

“I am not taking prayers at this time, Sir. Please return another day.”

The man does not startle at your voice in the same capacity that you startled at the sight of him. His words erode in his mouth before a smile pulls up his lips. You think his eyes are blue. It is hard to tell with glass obscuring them. He is wearing spectacles that look like the melted pattern of a tortoise shell.

“I did not know God was on a schedule. I suppose I can see why. The importance of transactions, why, those can keep someone quite occupied. I am a bit disheartened to see my deal is not worth His time.” The man’s smile is sympathetic like he knows you are suffering.

You grimace at your slip-up. Wanting to be inside, you round around the front porch area so you can meet with him at the entrance. You wonder what he must think of you, soaking wet, leaving behind puddles. “I’m terribly sorry, Sir. You may continue. I cannot offer the services of a Shinto shrine today however. My deepest apologies.” You bow.

“It is no worries. I just came to check if you were okay and make certain that you are.”

“If I’m,” your eyes flicker up in confusion. Straightening, you imagine your face must be the face of confusion like you are a spirit-blind person seeing yokai for the first time. Why would anyone? Does he not know you as the village boogeyman, someone that no one would dare check upon. “I’m quite fine, Sir.”

“Certain?”

“Certainly.”

The silver-haired man seems very pleased at that. Enough to the point where he stands up. Gratitude fills your lungs, almost relieving yourself of the chill. You hate that this is the first human interaction you have had in years and you are so happy to see it be gone.

Maybe you should try to be hospitable. That thought dies as you watch the man. Why, that is really curious – “Sir?”

“Yes?” His tone is acquiescent.

“The direction to the village is that way.” You point past the torii gate and the two guardian lions. He had been rounding the front porch, walking in the damp footsteps you had left behind. The man blushes an even heavier pink at that.

“Ah, my apologies,” he amends sheepishly. He stalks towards you and you wholeheartedly expect him to slip past. Instead, his presence surprises you for a second time. He grabs your salt encrusted hands and holds them dearly. “I am glad to see you in good health.”

You blank at the touch of his hands and go completely vacant at his sincere words. Like a stuttering fish, your lips move up and down wordlessly. Where did that even come from? “Do I know you?”

“I’m afraid not, godfather.”

He squeezes your hands and lets go. His spectacles are a beautiful pattern. The strange man walks off, towards the village, but his gait makes it look like he is walking in the wrong direction. You watch him until he vanishes into nothing. To make certain that he leaves.

Shaking and clenching your hands to get the blood-flow back to them, you enter the shrine. There are no armies of footprints waiting to greet you. You grow colder.

You are hot to the touch.

After such a grievous experience, you develop a fever as May births herself into the world, stabbing April to death. It lasts for a week longer than a normal fever should. Having to climb back up a mountain for an hour each morning is not any aid to the medicinal herbs you take. And now, when you want to rest, you cannot even do that.

You have already taken the bath salts. Inhaling the cathinone crystals, you walk from one end of the shrine to the other end like the ghost of a sailor haunting/walking a shoreline. You sniffle each time you feel the tickle of the drugs in your nose. Walk. Walk. Walk. Do not fall asleep no matter what.

Tonight is hyakki yagyo, because of course the night parade of one hundred demons falls upon the night you want to gain any semblance of rest after debilitating illness. The parades are inauspicious and untrackable.

The hordes of eyes in your walls watch you walk, relatively close to make indents into the flooring by method of your repetitive pacing. Mokumokuren, that is what the eyes in your walls are, an infestation yokai. They take a fancy to inviting in other yokai instead of protecting as the little girl does … did.

You can not risk going outside because of the yokai parade. Thus, due to your sleepwalking, you absolutely cannot fall asleep. People foolish enough to go outside during a hyakki yagyo or peek through their windows are killed or spirited away. It is considered divine punishment for looking upon that which must not be seen.

I have been looking upon yokai since my birth, would this parade really harm me? You never bother to test the floating theory, leaving it to trickle away until the next hyakki yagyo commences the following month. However —

“PLEASE! PLEASE HELP ME! SOMEONE LET ME IN!”

You have never had someone pleading at your door on a night like this. The horde of eyes watch as you consider the bottle of drugs in your nightwear pocket. You only inhale the crystals to stay alert and awake during night but they do cause hallucinations.

“One of your friends,” you ask the cluster of eyes peering through a Swiss cheese wall. One blinks a wet, sticky eye at your question. Then all of them blink when the stranger outside your door starts pounding on the front door.

You hold your hands over your breasts anxiously. Inside the bottle, your drugs gleam like coarse Himiylaian sea salt under the one eye made of light. The lantern is your only company, you remind yourself, not a human or a yokai.

You are alone and will remain alone until death.

It is probably an onmoraki at the door. A bird-like monster who has a talent for mimicking human voices. Onmorkai appear near temples, particularly in the presence of neglectful priests. It is almost too predictable of the yokai. Impiety needs no originality as all the old tricks have always worked.

You wish someone was here but you cannot remember their name. But you have always been alone?

Before you know it, your hand is opening the door. You stare down at the flesh like it is a foreign parasite, like a person stares at a leech after removing a limb from black lake water. When did you even – Why is your memory like this – Before you know, a sun and moon eye are staring down at you.

“Godfather! Priest!” You blank at the stranger’s jovial voice, completely singing a different tone when compared to his previous fright. He is frighteningly tall. “Oh thank God, you are here.” The man laughs. And with a flourish, he steps inside your shrine.

“I – I –”

“Good priest,” you blank when the man gets on his knees. He grabs your hands and squeezes them tightly, holding them over the ring of his teal hair. “I am indebted to you. I swear I was almost killed because of those yokai. A garrapa came from the lake and tried to –”

“A-A garrapa?”

“Yes, good priest, but thanks to –”

You slam the door shut, wrenching your hands from the man. Slamming the door with the man now inside the shrine. Quickly, you turn and start to look for the materials to make a protective talisman.

You miss the grin curling on your guest’s lips.“Not a fan of yokai, godfather?”

The tone used this time is soft and worrying. You turn at the volatile changes of his voice. The man still kneels on the ground, downturned eyes following your movements. He is frowning sympathetically at you.

“Yokai – why I –”

“I’m not. Awful spirits. Killed my twin.”

“I can’t –” you trail off as you search the wooden box in the honden frantically. An honorific fuda should be in here — and — and you have bottles of ink inside your bedroom right! Just a simple protective ward to keep yokai out. You might miss the company of the eyes but you will make those sacrifices. A human hand wraps around your wrist, pulling it up from the mouth of the wooden box before you can grasp the card plate.

“Ya didn’t answer my question. Not a big fan of yokai?” There he goes, switching his tone again. This time is deadly like he is barely concealing a thousand years of bottled up rage.

“I –” You fumble with your words, feeling akin to a child being scolded. Is it psychosis from the bath salts or are you losing your mind – this feeling is so – his eyes are so familiar but also completely alien. “Just garrapas. I can’t with garrapas.”

My best friend’s a yokai. You think but do not vocalize it. Because it is a false thought caused by the bath salts and a faulty memory.

He brightens up. “That’s good! That’s really good, priest. I just wanna check.”

“I’m so-sorry about being so erratic. I just —“

“A talisman. Don’t worry, I’ll help! My name’s Floyd, godfather!”

Your new acquaintance seems eager to leave minutes before the first fingers of pink and orange peer over the horizon. After calming down, the two of you shared tea and refused to look out the windows due to the parade. He is an eager talker, not letting conversation fall still at all. He talks like he has been wanting to talk to you forever. You are glad he wants to leave early despite the parade. A good priest would advise against it but you want him gone.

Something about interacting with him is familiar yet alien.

Cobalt skies turning more cerulean, you and Floyd take to walking outside. As he busies himself with petting your stone lion-dogs smugly, you carry a torch. Dark still lingers with hesitation. You banish a bit of it by lighting the torches by the torii gate. Orange dances on the ground like a wagging wave.

Blanketed by shadows, you turn to look up at Floyd, standing behind you as you lit the last lantern. He is staring up at the gate.

“Are you sure you will be alright leaving a whole hour before sunrise,” you contradict your own agenda with your words.

“Yeah, got to go check on my brother. Make sure he ain’t messin’ anything up.”

Wasn’t his brother killed? The orange from the second lantern dances like a snake. “Sir,” you hesitate when his eyes descend from the gate to you. “Do we know each other?”

“Course, little priest, I just spent all hyakki yagyo talkin’ with ya! Ahehe!” Then happily, the man walks off, down past the torii gate.

Inside the two lanterns, the fire stirs with his departure, locked in a swaying dance.

The fire goes up like a mountain-climber. Wall to wall, it ascends like a sticky hand falling in reverse. In amber and scarlet waves, it weasels through the holes in the sliding doors and eats up the structure like a caterpillar on a leaf. Hypnotic and great, the fire acids through more and more of the Shinto shrine’s stomach.

You cannot live here anymore. You have known for a while these religious bowels held you in a painful kidney stone.

Raising up the torch, you kiss it to the main scanatary’s wall and watch all the wood smolder. Man-made clouds of gray lie heavy on the ceiling, the finely tuned acoustics of the building rumbling with the crackles and pops. Onward, you move until you reach the heart of this system. The cupboard where the sacred object, cloaked in cloth like a newborn, represents your God.

You have no idea what the object could be. Your parents died before you turned sixteen and thus you never got to learn what the yorishiro, the sacred object, is. It could be a single comb or a paper crane or a child’s shoe.

It does not matter when you raise up the torch, holding the flames so they may embrace the cupboard’s two doors. You hold it until fire successfully transfers. Then, as destruction curls over the piety, you leave the heart, walking down the vertebrates, until you reach the anus.

Behind you, the Shinto shrine burns. In front of you, you see nothing as your eyes are as blind as two spider-eggs, glossed and webbed over. You feel the earth distinctively however, water undertows and rough sediment.

The fire, blindingly bright and energetic, speaks. “Good priest, you have done well. The night is near its end.”

You wake up. You wake up like someone has driven a knife into your heart.

Coupled with a pained groan, your eyelashes flutter open. The pain in your chest is defibrillating and runs over your shoulders with a hot white electric current. It feels so unique and so awful. Rapidly, you shove your hand into your yogi and touch over the layer of skin. Your heart hammers against the skin like a woodpecker.

“Oh my God,” you groan, spit running off your lips from the excruciating pain. Coughing around the phlegm, you press your hand hard into your skin, hoping pressure would mimic the job of a tourniquet. Your heart remains relentless.

More spit runs off your bottom lip like a long, opaque slug. He stretches and plops into the lake around your waist. Bile will not be summoned so you settle with fruitlessly spitting into the lake, groaning in pain. Phlegm hangs like snot on your lip as you look up, expecting to see golden sun-rays that will cure you.

Before you stand a man.

Those features seem too feminine to make him a man. His thin, cupid bow lips are just a bit too delicate to be a man’s. It looks like his skin is breathing marble and pearl. Monolids and upturned, his eyes are alluring as a concubine. A sun and a moon eye, shining with something indescribable when the two of you make eye contact. Is that genuine love in his womanly eyes?

“Who … Who are you? Why do I?” His eyes are distantly familiar yet juxtaposingly alien to you. Your vision blurs and his face shrinks and distorts, causing his eyes to overlap into an eclipse. Blinking and spitting, you clear your head. “Why do I know your face?”

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” For a second, you think him narcissistic until he says, “The omagatoki tonight is beautiful.”

A sudden chill causes your hairs to stand on end. Those dueling eyes seem to brighten in the pitch black dark. If he were any further from you, it would be impossible to see him. He too stands waist deep in the lake with you, many inches taller than yourself.

The sudden acknowledgement of existing as prey washes over you. “It’s omagatoki already?” Of course it is. The moon lies behind the man like a dot engulfing a canvas. You blink your eyes thrice as if there is a plastic filter cutting into them.

How did you not notice the telltale signs: cold wind blowing, the strange scent in the air like fish or blood, a sudden chill that causes one’s hairs to stand on end. It is as dark as if you were an explorer in the deep sea. It is omagatoki; how have you not noticed?

The spirit realm is so active around you.

“Who are you,” you ask again, full of questions.

“Me? Why, I am wounded that you do not recognize me. That would be like if I asked you: who are you? Who are you, (Name)?” You stay silent. “A niiyomjei perhaps?” A newlywed bride, he coos.

“I am no yamahime.”

A filthy yamahime is a mountain princess, but they are alternatively called mountain woman or newlywed bride. In a rare pleasure of luck, you have only encountered a yamahime once despite spending your entire life sharing the same home as them: the mountains.

You remember standing guard in front of the Shinto shrine, on the cusp of your thirteenth birthday, arms folded as the yamahime laughed and laughed. The laugh of a mountain princess is a lethal poison, those who hear are either dead or driven mad. Blood snailing down your ears, you stood her down for a sleepless night, refusing to let harm to befall either mother or father.

“Do not call me such a word.” You spit like a cobra at the man.

“My apologies, I misjudged that such a pretty woman as yourself would be honored at the comparison. I would never think to lessen your humanity down to a yokai. Though, why, I have always thought of you as the mountain princess you are.”

The moon backdrops on his body like a halo. All his features are dark besides his eyes and the outline of him pressed tight to the glowing night sun. “And, a newlywed bride? That is a true statement by all measures.”

“I am no bride. I am my father’s shrine maiden – a miko.” Mikos must remain unmarried to help out in a Shinto shrine. Coupled by your isolation, that question seems world-breaking insanity. This man is ridiculous.

But you are no longer a miko. You graduated when you made two graves; you are a priest. A Shinto priest – man or woman – is allowed to marry and have children. This is all insanity.

The man puts his hand to his mouth, closing his eyes and frowning delicately into his fist as if that statement is a physical injury to him. “Come now, (Name),” his moon and sun eyes shine like beetles when he opens them, “the priest is dead. Your father is dead. And you will find that your own priesthood is no longer required.”

“As long as there is a shrine, I’m needed.” The water around you is wrong and peculiar. Weightless and nebulous water clings up your thighs, ending an inch below your belly-button. You have to get back to your ankles. You do not want to cause anyone to worry that you have gone too far in.

“There are guests up there. You really should not disturb their prayers,” the man says as you start to turn, barely making it ninety degrees.

“I am the shrine’s priest, it will be fine.”

“They should go undisturbed; it will only take a moment. They want to explore the shrine inside too. Talk with me some more, bride.”

You ignore that word, unpausing your body. Your yogi floats around like a giant jellyfish cape and you must leave. “No one can get into the shrine, even if it is omagatoki. They would be banished. The yokai of the shrine would recognize a stranger.”

“Only by scent. And you smell like salt water every morning. It is safe to say my brother and boss can continue their prayers unaided and uninterrupted.”

The man, padding through water as he walks over to you, gently takes your left face in the cradle of his webbed hand. His features may be human but you can feel the slime as it sticks. The bone white of his palm almost glows under moonlight. With soft eyebrows, he looks upon you with idolization.

“Why do I know your face?”

As serious as a grave, he says, “I was there. In your dreams. And even when they weren’t dreams, I was still there.”

Each innard organ of yours stirs like a bed of worms at his exigent tone. “Yo .. You’re a umi nyobo … no, a umi no otto.” A sea wife, but then you correct yourself, a sea husband. His features might be delicate but his voice is entirely a man’s. You remember two things about them. Very strong. Very dangerous.

You jerk your head away from the hold of a piscine hand. Frantic, you twist your body away to get back up shore, to lower the embrace the lake has over your body back down to your ankles. You make it only one step before you stop. Eyes facing the mountain, you stare in horror.

Beyond the summit, between the armies of trees, a thick plume of smoke rises up and points it black fingers up to the twilight hours.

Fumbling with your mind, you are drawn back to the present as the man attacks you. He wraps his arms like chains around your waist, pinning your arms. Water stirs around the bottom of the contact. The world tilts as he suddenly pushes you down. Water floods into the front of your yogi, spilling down between your breasts. You fight to be upward and he allows it, leaning his body over you in an acute angle. Water comes to a respite.

Both of you fall still, your chest heaving heavy. He presses his flat chest to your spine. The left side of his face lands on top of the crown of your head. For a minute, you two stay statue-like.

“If you can remember my face and species then you must know my name.”

“I do not,” clenched teeth grit together. “I do not know you,” you deny.

“Yes, you do. We grew up together. You were my only friend. I was your only friend. I gave you a fish to keep you in good health and you gave me a crane in the promise of our life together. As a child, we do things unclouded by hesitation. Don’t you remember that?”

“I was only a child. I had no way to understand that,” you bargain.

“But you participated in our wedlock as an adult. Just a month ago, at night, didn’t you?”

“I can’t remember.”

“I will help you remember. All your dreams and all your thoughts, they will be ours.” A piscine hand carefully picks up wet tendrils of hair from the humid skin of your body. He tucks it behind your ear where cold sweat accumulates. “I’ve only thought and dreamed of you, (Name). I only ever wanted to share an eternal life with you by my side.”

“That’s impossible,” you shiver when he draws a claw over the bridge of the bone in your ear, down to the lobe. “Yokai and humans live in different worlds. The sekai and ikai can’t –”

“I know. I know but you promised. You promised to share that immortal soul humans have with me; the immortal soul that yokai lack. I will be turning you into an umi bozu.”

Umi bōzu … a sea priest.

You have never seen one; you never want to see and much less want to become one. They may look humanoid but they are truly a monstrous sight. Shoulders and a head rising and appearing from rough, killing waves. Giants. Umi bōzu are as tall as a coastal redwood tree, incomprehensible in size. More fearsome than a whale to a sailor and more dangerous than a plague to a newborn. Black as shadow with bulbous, white-blue eyes, umi bōzu are titans of mystery.

Some believe they are the progenitors of the sea and others … believe they come from drowned priests. You watch the smoke move serpentine into the skies. You are almost grateful for the rough, constituting grip because you feel you are going to pass out with the thought of becoming one of those behemoth sea monks.

“I’ll – I’ll wake up. The sun isn’t up. I still have time to wake up.”

There is no way that fire is real. And even if it is real, it is not made by your hands – his brother and his boss –

“You say that the yokai of your shrine would vanish my brother and boss, but you forgot that those eyes are a sign of infestation. Mokumokumen invite other yokai in. You knew that and left them alone to watch you. It is almost like you were waiting for this … the consummation of our marriage. How duplicitous you are.”

“Jade. Jade, wake me up right now.”

His face splits apart in a smile unseen. He knew you remembered.

“You are awake, my wife. You are.”

It is almost disorienting how calm the water is. You feel like a riptide is tearing you up and throwing you left and right. Around your sandwiched waists, you and Jade stand in completely still waters. The current fluidly pushes at your legs but it is like a docile comfort. All is calming and accepting except for yourself. In the air, the scent of blood and fish swims with the breeze.

“Don’t you see that I love you? That I have only cared and protected you. That one garrapa, you must remember that,” you jolt at the reminder. “Though I am a bit sad to learn you remember him so well, you must remember the end of it too. I even sent my boss to make sure you would be in good health. (Name)?”

You see it clearly: your body distorted into a giant as tall as the Great Wall of China is long, a nebulous black form of head and shoulders surrounded by turbulent waves as a tiny ship is thrown left and right with the force of your existence. A ship carrying twenty plus men comparable to a rubber duck in a child’s tub.

You cannot become that monster. You cannot become an umi bōzu. Please God please.

Feverish, you chant Norito, a Shinto prayer only said by Shinto priests. It is a prayer to God to prevent bad things from happening. The words fly off your lips like a flight of birds taking off. You feel like your mind is an empty cavern.

Lord, give me one more chance.

“I really wish this could precede differently; your tender disposition is something I do not wish to upset.”

“God, help me,” you cry.

Jade listens to your tongue wag like it is the sound of a babbling brook. “The shrine is ash, dear.”

Waiting a minute longer, the sea husband grabs your face with his webbed hand. The last of your prayer is whispered as he tilts you to look at him, backdropped by the mammoth moon. His sun and moon eyes shine. “I have waited long enough. Let us start our honeymoon. Let us say goodbye to the sun.”

Then, Jade’s nails cut into you, making gill-shaped marks in the breast of your chest, just over the space where your lungs sit.

And as he drags you down, you scream the last scream of your mortal life.

#twisted wonderland jade leech x reader #jade leech #twisted wonderland x reader #jade leech x reader #twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere jade leech

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multiwreckedmess · 1 year ago

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Kinktober Day 12

Prompt: Somno Pairing: Boyfriend!Han x fem!reader WC: 1.3k Summary: He hates that he’s always working late. Luckily you have a unique arrangement.

This is a work of fiction, it does not represent Han or any Stray Kids member. On top of this it is an 18+ work. For my comfort and boundaries please if you are under age do not interact with this.

I feel the need especially with “rougher” prompts like this to put the disclaimer - fanfic should NOT ever be used as a guide to relationships or sex. ESPECIALLY SEX. Again, it’s fiction. Stuff gets glossed over for the sake of a good story. Please PLEASE please again, not fact, not a guide, just a fantasy.

Additional TW/CW Below the cut

CW/TW: reader called baby, blindfold, natural sleep aids taken, dry humping, fingering (fem receiving), no gendered language but reader has a vagina, very sleepy sex, cockwarming, cumming inside.

DUBCON specifics: Reader is asleep but previously discussed/established boundaries. Even so, because consent is continuous it’s hard not to argue that it’s…dubious still. But as it is the prompt…yeah.

Scattered lights dimly light the apartment to great Han as the door creaks open. You’ve been asleep for hours, he hopes. His eyes burn, the sockets lined with sandpaper. Each blink is painful. Clothing scatters in his wake like a graham cracker trail to the bedroom door, leaving him in just his socks and underwear. You’re not a heavy sleeper. Worse, you’re not really a sleeper at all. Even worse is you’re even less likely to sleep when your Han isn’t there to hold you as you drift off. So when he finds you flat out on your back, eyemask lowered, lips slightly parted. The sound you make isn’t exactly a snore or a wheeze. It’s slow, heavy, audible breathing, chest rising and falling with it. Han’s heart swells in his chest, you’re peaceful, so perfect. The world is still, the world is his. You are his world. He practically holds his breath as he crawls onto the bed beside you even though he knows. He knows you likely won’t wake up from the text he’d gotten nearly three hours prior. A quick note; “Love you! Hope work goes well. I’ll be out out so don’t worry about waking me up” Sent with a wink. It’s a code. “Don’t worry about waking me up” was the agreed upon phrase that he could do whatever he wanted to you when he got back. That you wanted him to do whatever he wanted. “I’ll be out out” was new. In your search to find a natural remedy to your sleep issues you’d stumbled upon a perfect combination of valerian root, magnesium, lavender, cbd and melatonin. A five finger punch straight to the frontal lobe that sent you into a near coma for six hours. Han looms over you, gaze trailing down from the curve of your cheek to your chest to your legs. Holding his breath for fear the breeze will wake you he lightly swipes his thumb across your lower lip. It’s soft, your breath teases the top of his hand. He lightly tugs it lower, a small test that you pass with flying colors. Your mouth looks so soft and your body is so pliant. Blood rushes to his dick so quickly he gets lightheaded. Backing off from your slumbering form to collect himself, he slides into the covers beside you, curling a leg around yours. The cotton and spandex of his underwear is rough against his length as he ruts against your thigh. He tries his best to control his actions, all of the sleep aids counldn’t keep you that way forever. Even so he couldn’t help his hand drifting up your soft stomach to your nipple, absentmindedly playing with the hardened nub. A moan made of mostly air escapes your mouth, your chest arching into his hands. “You like that, baby?” He mutters as his tongue darts out to flick the nipple closest. “Having a good dream?” His cock throbs at the thought, hips pressing harder into your side. He can barely see your expression with the eyemask on, a minor inconvenience for a deeper slumber. Still your head cranes back into the pillow as he returns to your chest. Han was always worried somehow you were faking it. Here in total slumber, you couldn’t. He loved it. Knowing each soft moan and writhe was earnest.

Your moans slowly turned to whines as he took his time with your tits. Needier and needier your legs shift and angle your hips towards him more. Mouth held tight to your nipple he slips two fingers into you easily. If your sex could be weather it would be classified as torrential. Slick seeping from you as you rock with him. “Hannie,” your voice is a whisper of a whine in his ear. “It’s me baby, go back to sleep,” his chest rumbles against you, quiet and low. Seemingly you take that as gospel and ease back into your dreamy state. Slowly Han pushes your hips back flat to the mattress, licking his fingers clean of your mess. He knows what he wants to do next is a gamble. Your walls are just so much smaller than his girth. And on top of that you’d just woken up. Still, his cock throbs painfully, leaking precum on your thigh. Thumb swiping at the tip in a useless effort to clean it Han considers your mouth. Soft and wet as your cunt. Nearly as inviting. Perfectly parted. Still the bitter tang of precum unexpectedly hitting your tongue would surely have you wide awake. If not the taste then certainly the saliva as it pooled in your mouth. “Hannnnnieeee,” you whimper again, your hand sliding down to your wetness. Sleepy and desperate. Your mouth curls into a pout, hand giving up its journey. A soft disappointed huff blows air from your nostrils. Nudging the blunt head of his cock at your entrance, he strokes your cheek, gently stirring you. Not enough to fully wake you. “Baby, I’m here. This will be so quick I promise.” He holds your chin in his palm as he fills you in one strong thrust. His painstaking ministrations paying off.

“JI-” your gasp choking back as you arch up to meet him. Your sex aches, but not from the sudden intrusion. “Fuck- Han-oh!” You reach down to touch yourself, the moment your fingers graze your entrance stretched around him you cum. Hours of dreamy edging releasing over his length, leaving you just as dazed as when you first stirred. A wave of endorphins flooding your brain, your tired head collapsing back into the downy pillow. “Shh, babe, you can go back to sleep,” Han says as he smooths his hand over your shoulder, holding still with his hips. He can feel your pulse flutter through your walls as you slacken again below him. Ever so gently he pours his weight over you like a blanket, holding some of his weight in his arms. Careful to not jostle you more than he has to he begins to slowly and shallowly thrust against you. More of a grind than a thrust, your bodies barely separating. Rolling his hips as your walls tug at his cock, he’s in heaven. Eyes glazing over he lets his body relax more, more weight coming down on you. He can feel himself fading, angling his torso more to the side of you as to not crush your lungs. His vision darkens and he can feel himself unwillingly slip in to a drowsy darkness as your walls pulse around him. Days of sleeplessness melt away as his body relaxes into you.

Han’s body is nearly shutting down, like a flashlight with nearly empty batteries he flickers in and out of consciousness. He needs to cum now or he’ll shut off without sweet release. Quickly he realizes once he cums, he’ll be too tired to drag himself off of you. So he rolls, bringing your thigh over his hip to keep you open to him. Hand cupping your ass he grunts. Two deep thrusts is all it takes for him to spill inside of you. His shoulder falling forward as he dozes off, warm and relaxed. A warm drip between your thighs jostles you from sleep. Birds are chirping. Your walls clamp immediately to prevent the leaking from getting worse. Groaning you try to roll to the other side, Han’s warm breath tickling your chest. Untangling from him you feel it, him popping free from you, asleep and still semi erect in your heat. “Hannie I’m still messy,” you whine. “You never clean your toys.” You really should get up and clean off or at least slip some underwear on. Instead you roll to your other side, ass to him and wiggle back expectantly. “We clean when done-” he murmurs half asleep.

Soooft sleepy boy. I love my soft cuddle boy Han.

#Han smut #han jisung smut #stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids kinktober #skz kinktober #kpop smut #kpop kinktober #kinktober #kinktober 2023

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sandinthemachine · 2 years ago

Note

You know what be cute cuddling with horangi with a deep voice more rumbly just waking up and he give the best hugs.

Sure he might let you go of you give a few kisses and cute bumping of the nose. He needs you to giggle first and he lets you go.

And okay you being stubborn and don't want to sleep okay carry you bridal style. Or maybe carry like those mama cats carry they kitten cause you're being to wiggley

The thought of someone being carried by the neck like a kitten is so funny to me ngl, that's a König thing to do for sure. But this is so sweet aww

Alright, ya got me. Have a little good-morning fluff drabble. On the house

A sudden shiver pulls your body from sleep, bleary eyes taking in the deep blue-grey of the room, soft and fuzzy. Just dark enough that all of the sharp edges and corners blur, making the entire room feel wispy and ethereal. Comfy.

A cool breeze tickles over your exposed shoulders, sending another shudder reverberating through your ribcage.

Ah, that'll do it.

You had never bothered to shut your window last night. It had been...a bit too hot for that.

You smile at the thought, slowly sliding a leg out from under the sheets into the frigid air.

A warm arm tightens around your torso.

How does he always know?

You let yourself fall again, pulled back against a pillowy chest. You wiggle, shifting your hips, and another arm slides around your waist, holding you still. The delicate outline of a nose and lips press into your neck, soft breaths tickling over the sensitive skin.

"Horangi."

He only grunts, gravelly and deep, shoving his face even further into you.

"I need to close the window."

"I'll keep you warm."

You giggle at the slurred voice, heavy and resonant. It always is when he first wakes. With a sigh you shift again, curling your fingers around one of his arms. Tracing the lines of ink you know by heart.

He shivers.

And with you so tight against him, it sets you shivering too.

"Will you let me shut the window now?"

A sound, gritty and rough, rumbles his throat. Halfway between a groan and a sigh. His head tilts, nose and lips skating over your skin.

His tongue darts out just as fingers slide up your side, and you squeal, writhing against him.

A laugh shakes his body, rumbling thunder crackling and rolling, his chest heaving against you before he lets you go.

As you roll, a hand catches the back of your head, fingers curling into your hair, guiding you back, and his lips are on you, warm and wet and too soft. His fingers are tight in your hair, but the knuckles of the other hand stroke your cheek, gentle and smooth.

You sigh, head falling back into his hand, feeling his smile against yours.

And then he's pulling away, tucking the blanket over his whole body as he flops belly first into the mattress. "Better close the window, then. And get right back here."

You grin at that, skipping across the room to slide the pane closed, pausing to watch the rivulets of water run down the cool glass. They merge into each other, streaking across the canvas, stray paintbrushes full of blues and greens and greys, shining first this color and then that as the low light catches them.

Hands wrap around your hips, tugging you back, and you squeak.

'Wha-hey!"

His hands rise, flinging you up and catching you, arms tight under your legs and shoulders. "You took too long."

"It was five seconds!" You throw your head back, laughing as he lays you on the bed. "I'm sure you can wait that-"

Your retort is cut off with an oof as he drops his entire weight onto you. "Too long."

You giggle, wiggling an arm free to brush his hair off his forehead. "Whatever you say, tiger."

He rumbles happily, burying his face into your chest. And within seconds, he's asleep again.

#wrote this in a biochem lecture #thinking about a very different kind of biochem #whoops #horangi #horangi x reader #still not really sure about his characterization tbh #so I'll just be learning as I go #also horangi has a cool tattoo sleeve because tattoos are hot #and he speaks in grumbles and unintelligible sounds in the morning #anon replies

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honey-riley · 4 months ago

Text

Love You To Death || S.R. || 3 || Hello My Old Heart

WARNINGS: PTSD, jealousy, the team getting drunk, hints to DV.

wc: 2.5k

2 || 3 || 4

A/N: Sorry this one took so long to get out. As I said, I had something really traumatic happen, so I took a bit of time away, but I'm doing better now!

The next few days for Simon were a blur — the days felt more comfortable, the nights allowed him to rest peacefully. Simon spent most of his time busying himself, trying to get his mind off of work, and off of her.

That night she came over, she looked so pretty. The way her hair fell around her shoulders, her cute little freckles that dotted her cheeks like stars in the sky, her green eyes that reminded him of a forest on a sunny day with the sun gleaming through the leaves, the subtle dusting of gold spikes in her irises. Her roman nose was strong like her, her oval face shape that framed her features. She didn't really have a slender face, her cheeks were chubby — not overly chubby, but they were cute. She was still just as tiny as she was when he met her of course, standing at four feet, eleven inches — only making it up to his lower shoulder when she stood next to him.

But he couldn't fall for her. It was inappropriate. He was her Lieutenant, and she had a boyfriend.

"Tank. What should I do?" He sighed, rubbing his forehead as he sat in his recliner. Tank blinked up at him, letting out a chirp in response. Simon glanced at his watch, taking in the time. He had to get to work soon.

He got in the shower, letting the hot water cascade from behind, down his shoulders, and down his muscular body. He scolded himself mentally as Honey weaseled her way back into his mind, making his cock twitch.

"Goddammit." He growled under his breath, closing his eyes and leaning his head back, letting the water roll down his forehead. He kept his hands away, not wanting to associate his subordinate with that. She had a boyfriend, and it wasn't him. He didn't want to be hers, he didn't want to be anyones'. He just wanted to be him — not tied down.

He turned so that he was facing the water, rubbing his face, and especially around his eyes, which was a habit that he had gained from rubbing the eye black off of his face.

He washed his hair, face, and body before getting out of the shower, and getting ready for work. He got dressed, got his gear on, put his eye black on, put his mask on, and left.

When he got on base, Honey was still asleep in their shared room. The room was pitch black, and not wanting to bother her, Ghost shut the door behind himself as he came in. He fumbled around in the dark for a moment, trying to find the lamp that sat in the corner of the room. He eventually found it, turning it onto its lowest setting. He glanced over at her, watching as she stirred a little due to the sudden light in the room.

He didn’t bother, turning back to his paperwork that sat on his desk — the paperwork that he still had yet to finish. He let out a long sigh, starting to read through it.

After about twenty minutes of reading, filling out the forms, and signing things, Honey started to wake up. She sat up slowly, rubbing her weary eyes.

“The other day,” Ghost started, keeping his eyes on the paper which he was writing on.

“Pretend like it never happened. You never saw me at the shops, you never came over, none of it, Tailer.” He added, using her last name.

Honey was taken aback a little — she thought that they were on better terms now, but apparently they weren’t. She sat there, watching the back of his head, taking in every detail.

She wanted to ask questions.

She wanted to ask why?

Or what she had done.

But she didn’t. She kept her silence, and though he couldn’t see, she nodded. She got out of her bed and started getting ready for the day. She put her hair in a bun, got her uniform on, and put her socks and boots on.

Meeting with the rest of the team, Honey stood outside, the fresh morning breeze surrounding her. The sky was still and gray — which was average for a British morning, something she had gotten used to. The hums of truck engines and the distant sound of NCO’s barking orders at newer recruits filled the otherwise stagnant air.

“Good ta see ya, lassie. ‘Ow’re ya doin’?” Soap grinned, clapping her on the back.

“Well.” Honey nodded politely with a small smile drawing on her own lips. She glanced back at Soap, her eyes landing on his sapphire blue eyes.

He nodded, taking his hand off of her back. He stood next to her, his chest puffed out slightly, his hands on his hips as he watched the base run like it always did.

“What’s it like in Germany? A’ve been a few times, but never enough to really take in my surroundin’s, yanno?” Soap asked.

“It’s nice. Where I’m from, the architecture is beautiful. It’s um..”

“I don’t know the word in english,” She giggled softly, trying to think. “Rote Ziegelsteingotik (Red brick Gothic)." She added. Soap nodded along, pretending to understand what she said. He didn’t speak a lick of German, but he was starting to pick up on it now that Honey was there.

“Sounds beautiful, Lassie.” Soap smiled. “Jus’ like ya.” He added. Ghost’s neck nearly snapped with how quickly he looked over at Soap, shooting him daggers.

Soap, on the other hand, was blissfully unaware of Ghost’s stare. Honey stood there, noticing the both of them. She cringed inwardly, but nodded with a smile, shoving down the awkwardness that was creeping.

“Thank you.” She said softly, glancing away. Her eyes wandered, watching a few trucks pass by.

“Alright, lets get this show on the road, ‘ey?” Price smiled as he approached the team. Gaz took his spot next to Honey, staying quiet. He offered her a friendly smile, which she returned.

After running five and a half miles with the team, they got breakfast, and Honey was sitting at the end of the table with Soap next to her, Price across from her, Gaz next to Price, and Ghost next to Gaz.

Ghost wanted to be as far away from Honey as possible. He didn’t want anything to do with her, now that he had seen her as a civvy — especially because she had seen him that way too. Simon had been kind to her, repaying her for her own kindness, while Ghost didn’t want anything to do with her.

It was like a switch had been flipped, as soon as he put on his mask, he was Ghost. He was different. He was a war machine, he was intimidating, mean. And he wanted it that way, but he also never wanted anyone to see Simon ever again.

When he was Simon, he felt vulnerable, and he was kind and caring, like a little boy again. The boy that was beaten and treated as less than valuable his entire life — less than a person, less than alive, so he became a Ghost. Separating the two, and shunning Simon away. Simon never wanted anyone to go through what he did, but Ghost wanted everyone to go through it.

Later that night, the team went out for drinks to celebrate their last win against Makarov. It was definitely one for the books, and now that they had time to do it, that’s what they were going to do. Get absolutely hammered.

Honey could drink— and she was keeping drinks down well. She sat at the bar with Soap, drinking her third glass of Jägermeister on the rocks.

“Lass, that’s fuckin’ disgustin’.” Soap chuckled, shaking his head.

“I’m German.” She shrugged with a giggle. He shook his head for a second time, wrapping his arm around her shoulder. Ghost sat at the end of the bar, as far away as possible. He was nursing a glass of Jack Daniels, neat.

‘Nothing forces a man to face his feelings for a woman more than the interest of another man.’

His eyes lingered on the two, maybe he was protective, but he didn’t want to care. She had a boyfriend —who was a piece of shit— and she seemed comfortable with Soap. He lifted his mask a little, taking a sip off of his drink before putting his mask down.

Honey caught sight of the lower half of his face, mentally trying to piece together what he looked like under there.

He had a sharp nose, sharp eyes, sharp jawline, soft lips that were slightly pouted, and glasgow smile scars. They arched up from the corners of his mouth and all the way to just under his cheekbone. Honey couldn’t see the end of it, but she knew they had to be pretty long.

Glasgow smiles were acquired from being tortured— the assailant would slice the edges of your mouth and make you scream, either by kicking, stabbing, whatever it be, they would make you scream, which would in turn rip the wound open. And to know that he went through it and survived sent a chill down her spine.

She looked back down at her drink, taking a long sip. “I’m gonna need a few more of these.” She giggled. “Maybe tequila.” She added, nudging Soap, who chuckled in return. He ordered her drink, and she traded her old glass for the tequila, which she nearly chugged. She stuck her tongue out, shaking her head, trying to get the flavor off of her tongue. “Christ.” She giggled, her eyes narrowed in disgust. Price chuckled next to her, patting her back.

A few hours later, Honey was hammered, and stumbling around everywhere. She had been drinking all night, and she wasn’t drinking lightly. Ghost went out to have a cigarette, and Honey stumbled out of the pub a minute later, unaware that he was there. She plopped down on the concrete, digging in her pocket for her cigarettes. She pulled one out, putting it to her lips and drunkenly lighting it, nearly missing her cigarette.

She took a long hit, letting the smoke fill her lungs. Ghost glanced over at her, his arms crossed with his own cigarette between his fingers. She glanced up at him, her eyes lighting up.

“Hiii!” She smiled, happy to see him. He gave her a curt nod, glancing away, watching the road. She scrambled to her feet, coming over to him. He looked back down at her, his brow arching as he tried to decipher why she was there.

“Sooooo, howave you been?” She slurred, looking up at him with a big grin. He couldn’t tell if her cheeks were flushed because of the alcohol or him. He gave a grunt in response, looking away.

“You need to go home. You’re drunk.” Ghost replied. “Don’t have a rideeee.” She whined, taking another drag off of her cigarette, letting the smoke out after a second.

“I’ll give you one.” He replied, looking back down at her. He wasn’t drunk, he had only nursed his Jack Daniels all night, but that was it. She nodded, leaning back against the brick wall. He unlocked his car, pointing to it as the headlights flashed for a second. “Go sit in there. I’ll be back in a minute.” He grumbled, putting out his cigarette and going back in the bar.

Honey went over to his car, getting into the passenger seat. She sat there, glancing around his car, taking it in. It smelled like him — the smell that she remembered from his house. Cigarettes, whiskey, vanilla, sandalwood, and a hint of cinnamon. She leaned back in her seat, buckling up and resting her head back against the headrest, closing her eyes as the world spun around her.

It was a 2023 Aston Martin DBS 770 Ultimate Volante in Ultramarine Black, a luxury car. She opened her eyes and glanced around, taking in the size of it. There was no way that that man could fit in here.

He was 6’4”, muscular, and over all, big. She watched as he came back out, walking back to the car. He opened the driver’s side door, sinking down into his seat. His knees nearly touched the steering wheel, making Honey giggle.

“Du bist zu groß (You’re too big).” She giggled, letting her head lazily lull to the side.

“Huh?” Ghost grunted, his brow furrowing. He didn’t speak German, and apparently nobody on the team did, except for her.

“I said, you’re too big for this car.” She smiled, her grin lopsided from the alcohol.

“You’d be surprised to see how hard it is to find a car that can fit me.” He murmured, starting the engine.

The rest of the drive to Honey’s house was silent, and when they got there, Ben was sitting on the porch, waiting for her to come home like some kind of predator. He sat there, watching as the car pulled up, his eyes narrowing. He leaned back in his chair, sinking back into the shadows.

Simon got out of the driver’s seat, coming around to the passenger side. He opened the door for her, letting her out. He gently took her tiny hand in his, carefully pulling her to her feet. Simon glanced around, checking their surroundings before leading her up to the front gate. Ben stood up, making Simon’s eyes shoot up. He gently let go of Honey, not wanting to piss Ben off — but it was too late for that.

Ben stormed up to the gate, grabbing Honey by the arm. She looked up at him, her eyes wide.

“Get in here, now.” Ben growled, opening the gate and nearly throwing Honey through it.

“Ben!” She gasped, clinging to him for some sort of balance. She was hammered, couldn’t walk straight if her life depended on it, and Ben was throwing her around like she was nothing. Simon stood there, the look in his eyes changing for a moment, but he didn’t know what to do. He stood there, his eyes distant as he remembered what it was like to be ripped around like that. What it was like to feel like you weighed nothing, and not in a good way.

He took her inside before Simon even realized, and he stood there. Remembering.

His father’s handprints burned into his skin, like an old wound bubbling up again. The thought of it made his stomach churn. He couldn’t let this happen to Honey, but it was too late. She was already inside, the door was already locked, and he was standing there like an idiot. Knowing that she was drunk and possibly defenseless made him feel so sick.

He glanced back at his car, debating on whether he should leave or stay. What could he do if he stayed? He couldn’t just barge in and say ‘oh, hey, that’s not right’, but he couldn’t leave her like that either. She could be hurt, or worse. He didn’t want to think about it, but the thought wouldn’t leave his mind.

They were part of a family now, tight knit. And though Ghost didn’t like her, he was still a decent human being. He wouldn’t let her suffer, right?

Right?

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steviewashere · 8 months ago

Text

Your Body is Warm Next to Mine

Rating: General CW: None Apply! Tags: Post-Canon, Post Season 4, Established Relationship, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Steve Harrington Likes Back Scratches, Eddie Munson Likes Giving Back Scratches, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Domestic Fluff, Literal Sleeping Together, Tired Steve Harrington, Sappy, Eddie Munson Calls Steve Harrington Pet Names

Based on This Tweet

(Two Times Eddie Scratches Steve's Back)

😴—————😴 1.

“Getting tired, baby?”

Steve hums. He wants to feign wakefulness. Pay attention to the rest of the movie that Eddie put on. Keep talking and cuddle in close and eat junk food. But he’s wiped. A long shift at Family Video earlier in the day with the addition of a few errands he had to run afterwards, tired doesn’t even cover what he’s feeling. Something more akin to mush. Just a heavy fog. Partially floating. Partially sinking into his spot on the couch. “Could say that,” he mutters.

The movie’s dialogue comes to an abrupt stop, most likely from Eddie pausing it. Then, the player whirs as it rewinds the tape. The TV crackling when it gets turned off. Hands wrap around Steve’s, warm and welcoming. They squeeze and tug lightly. “Alright, Stevie, let’s head up to bed,” Eddie murmurs.

He follows in a sludge. Through their apartment’s hallway, past the bathroom, and straight into the center of their bedroom. Steve shucks his pants off, replaces the polo he’d been wearing with a plain grey t-shirt, and unceremoniously collapses into bed. Behind him, Eddie chuckles, still carefully getting dressed into his pajamas. His hand gently taps at Steve’s left calf, ushering him to move up the bed and over to his spot. The left side meeting his skin like an early morning breeze.

Once Eddie lays on his side, Steve grabs for his right hand. Places it on his back. And then shimmies down into the mattress. One arm under his pillow, the other laying between them. He opens his eyes, raises his eyebrows slightly, and tries for his best pleading glance to where Eddie’s hand lays on his back.

He sighs into his position when Eddie lightly rolls his eyes, but immediately works his hand under Steve’s t-shirt. His eyes flutter close again, but he doesn’t fall asleep quite yet. Instead, he quietly requests, “Tell me about your day?”

With the tips of his fingers, Eddie begins by tracing the edges of Steve’s scars. Over the thick tissue, around the planes of sensitive and plush patches. He takes an easy breath and begins to whisper, “Well, I woke up while you were in the shower this morning. And I didn’t want to interrupt your little concert that you were having—“

“I don’t sing in the shower,” Steve feebly argues.

Eddie chuckles under his breath. “Hmm, must live next door to George Michael then,” he muses. His thumb presses into the top of Steve’s spine, running down in a single line. “But I didn’t want to interrupt, so I went out for a little walk around the complex. There weren’t any strong winds. Nobody was outside that early except for a couple smokers. The light breeze was on my face. Felt amazing,” he murmurs. His hand flattens against Steve’s back, swiping up and down and over his shoulder blades. Pressing more firmly where resistance meets his touch.

Continues, “But then, my little walk was interrupted. By the couple that lives in apartment 6A, y’know, on the second floor? Screaming and hollering at each other. They were arguing about—“

“Her dirtbag husband cheating, which was obvious from the start,” they say in unison. Steve snorts and nuzzles his head further into his pillow. His eyes droop more with exhaustion, but his breathing doesn’t completely slow. Still looking on at Eddie for more.

“Yeah,” Eddie sighs. “Told you about it when you got out. You then called Robin and told her all about it. I went to the kitchen while you guys talked. Smiled to myself as I poured coffee into our special mugs.” Steve’s mug is a yellow one that says ‘Keep a Smile on Your Face’ in red text. Eddie’s is a Seattle Pike Place Market mug—white with an array of colorful fruit on it. “Put creamer in mine, the vanilla one that you complain is way too sweet. Splash of whole milk in yours. Set it out on the dining table and made you toast; heavy coat of butter, thin layer of strawberry jam—not jelly.”

During Eddie’s recount, Steve has shuffled closer. Squishing his left arm between their bodies. Nearly nose to nose with each other. Eddie drags his blunt fingernails in counter-clockwise circles on Steve’s lower back, almost tickling him with how light the pressure is. He hums in delight.

“Grabbed oranges for us. Sat at the table and waited. Did the daily crossword in the newspaper before you had the chance, which made you slightly annoyed, but not furious.” Eddie leans into Steve’s space more, pressing a chaste kiss to the tip of his nose. Grins to himself when Steve closes his eyes and smiles back. “Gave you the sports page. Which you read while peeling our oranges. And then you passed me yours, I removed the pulp from it. We ate in silence. I sat and thought about how much I love you,” he whispers almost like a confession.

Steve doesn’t say anything, instead basking in the soft touch he’s been given. Soaking it all in, letting himself be drenched with it. His chest warms pleasantly and his stomach flips at Eddie’s words.

Eddie taps his index finger over several areas of Steve’s back. Counting with the lowest and gentlest voice he can muster. Takes the edge of his fingernail and traces lines between the spots. “What’re you doing, Eds?” Steve sleepily asks.

“Making constellations,” he mutters. Eyes watching where his hand moves. “See, here’s a star—“ His finger pats. “—And here’s another,” he states, drawing another line. “There. That’s one constellation. Here comes one more.” Steve lets him do this. It’s the first time this has happened, but he certainly doesn’t want it to be the last. There’s four more constellations that he makes before running his palm heavily against the whole of Steve’s back. “Anyway,” he sighs. “Then, you went to work. And so I cleaned a bit. Did the dishes, wiped the table, organized our movies. Watched a couple reruns of Family Ties. Took a nap and dreamed about you.”

“Dream?” Steve mumbles.

Eddie kisses his clothed shoulder. “Kissed you in it,” he answers. “But I woke up. Made us some dinner. Spaghetti, your favorite. Even grated the parmesan by hand. I know—I’m a very fancy guy, it comes with the name.” Steve makes a half-hearted snort, too muffled by his exhaustion to be a real sound. “You came home. Made my dream come true, kissed you by the door. We ate. Started watching Animal House, with my insistence, even though you tried to protest.”

“You don’t like it,” Steve sighs.

“I do,” Eddie insists softly. “I just like to tease you a little. But I didn’t tonight because I could tell you had a very long day. Dead on your feet, sweetheart. Then, before I knew it, you were half-asleep against my shoulder.” He kisses Steve’s forehead this time. On his cheek. The lobe of his ear. Another to his shoulder. However, he doesn’t go in for one on the mouth. Steve’s breaths have completely slowed, his lips puffing slightly with each exhale, and his eyes remain closed and relaxed. There’s already a line of drool creeping to run down his cheek.

Eddie drags his hand one more time down Steve’s spine. “Night, baby,” he whispers. But it’s washed out by Steve’s soft snores. He tucks the comforter around them, tighter than it was before. Lays himself half over Steve’s back. And kisses the back of his head. Ready for the next time he’ll do this all over again.

——— 2.

Eddie draws him in a little closer. Pressing them against each other’s sides. Steve wraps his arms around Eddie’s waist. Sets his head on his shoulder. And Eddie digs his chin into the top of his head.

They’re an hour into The Labyrinth when Steve gives a sleepy nudge to Eddie’s hand. Reaching behind himself to place Eddie’s palm on his back.

“Over the shirt or under?” Steve is asked.

“Over,” he answers through a sigh. Leans his full body weight into Eddie and watches the next several minutes of their movie knowing Eddie has him. Enjoys the way the dull scratches move his t-shirt, the soft rustle of his clothing being shifted. How his nails dig into him a little bit more on his softer parts, but how they traverse the scarred blades with caution. The circular motions of his fingers a gentle lull.

He hums at the sensation. Falling into it all a little more.

Eddie always enjoys giving Steve back scratches if only to see him fall asleep. Even if it’s on the couch, while they’re watching one of his favorite movies. He switches between etched lines and tracing the shape of Steve’s shoulders blades. Goes from circular scratches to whole palm sweeps. Just to make sure that Steve continues his late night nap. He can always tell when it’s been a long day by two things: when Steve takes a nap, and how he asks for his back to be scratched.

Sometimes, Steve will just ask the question. Usually when he’s more lucid or if he’s still slow to waking up. But, typically, it’s forcing Eddie’s hand on his back. Leaning into the touch. Nuzzling in close and all too warm.

It’s forty minutes later when Steve does wake back up. Rousing gently, slowly. Instead of startling awake like he does with a nightmare. His shoulders shift, shimmying nearly. Arms tighten around Eddie’s waist. Rubbing his cheek against Eddie’s shoulder, lips smearing on his shirt, the drool wetting Eddie’s skin a bit. “Mm, sorry,” he mumbles, “fell asleep during the movie.”

“You’re alright, sweetheart,” Eddie murmurs right back. “Back scratch must’ve been good.”

“Should get a job as a professional back scratcher,” Steve says. But his words slur slightly, as if he’s already trying to go back to sleep. It probably doesn’t help that Eddie is still moving his nails over Steve’s shoulders, up to the base of his neck, down his spine.

Eddie snorts. “Getting sleepy, baby?”

“Yeah,” Steve admits with a sigh.

“Alright, Stevie, let’s get you to bed.”

And he starts their nightly routine all over again. Shutting off the movie. Hauling Steve up. Indulging when he wants a back scratch. Telling him about his day.

“It was a great day,” he begins, “because I was able to love you.”

😴—————😴

#stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #tooth rotting fluff #fluff #domestic fluff

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