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kaiisinventions · 2 months ago

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❝ The Night I Lied to You | 2.0

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“You’re lying.” They recoiled as though the words themselves had burnt them. The moment the spin of his heel was caught in the corner of their eyes, they diverted their gaze to the sleek, copper floor, not daring to raise their eyes. Not when a calloused hand, with utmost tenderness, lifted their chin. Not when they could feel his gaze burning into the slices—gashes, maybe, they had not actually looked—all too close to their jugular vein. “Hunter rays don’t do that.”

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chars: Freminet (they/them), Lyney (he/him), Lynette (she/her)

tags: horror, brief comfort,

warnings: body horror, trauma, panic attacks, near death, injury

wordcount: 4,290

chapters: 2/2

ao3 link | masterlist | twitter post

a/n: easily my heaviest post yet... and its only my like, 2nd one? (well, 3rd if you count the one on my genshin blog.) anyway, this si the fanfic ive been working on for like. 5 months. and YES its only 2 chapters i KNOW.. fremi doesnt have a panic attack really but they get really close several times so i figured it'd be best to tag it as such. AND YES I KNOW VISION WIELDERS CANT DROWN! its a headcanon! dont yell at me! thanksies

i recommend reading it on ao3 instead, but the fic will be here as well. dialogue will be color coded.

anyways, enjoy.

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1/2 | 2042 words

Deep breaths. In, out. In, out, their breathing trembled and heaved as Freminet hauled themselves through the desolate halls, their feet dragging with every weighted step they took. Water still dripped from their diving suit, trickling in disturbed rhythms. Save for the whir and buzz of electrical energy residing in the creaking walls, that was the only noise. A place called home, a place where they should feel comfortable. And yet, their consciousness would not allow them to feel safe, instead they were wracking their brain, scrambling to think up some valid excuse as to why they were like this. Forming reasonable excuses for anything was already daunting enough, pair it with incessant ringing and fuzziness of, well, everything they might as well be good as screwed, for unfortunate lack of a better phrase.

Time to think ticked on away, as they turned the corner on instinct. There it was, that door. Lined with pipes, towering with its mystical impressions. Pampered with poker cards, shimmering silver and golden coins, strings of loose confetti, all intricately placed to decoratively mask an undistinguished, average white door. They took a deep breath, air filling their lungs, heart pumping through their ears with every second that passed. What do I even say? The grand question looming over them like a threat. Perhaps more specifically, what could I say that Lyney would believe? Not much at all. Was there anything they could—?

“Freminet?”

Their heart sunk to the core of Teyvat. With a start, their head whipped, their soaked, disheveled blond hair sending chilled droplets peppering their freckled face. That silhouette, even whilst it simply stood shadowed against the walls, such a familiar sight that struck an unfamiliar chord of apprehension. Consciously, staring dead at the dark figure, they had to remind themselves; it’s Lyney. It’s Lyney. Why try to hide that deer in the headlights look of theirs—Lyney didn’t have to see their expression to clock them. Freminet flinched as suddenly, he was right there, dragging them away by the wrist and into that same door they’d stared up at as though it were the disappointed “Father” herself.

At the flick of the light switch, their eyes slammed shut. Light flooded into their eyes as would water, overpowering, blinding, suffocating. Lyney led them, as though he were the current whisking them off to safety. Next thing they knew, they were sat down on a cushioned surface—his bed—and Lyney was gone. Where– their eyes snapped open, only to thankfully spot him across the room, rifling through stashes upon stashes of disorganized clutter. “What happened?” His voice jarred them. Their mouth dropped open, yet not a word came out. All seemed to freeze over, as would an ocean at the most biting of winters.

“Just—” the word seemed to cut itself off, as though even their tongue was saying no. To just tell him the truth. “I got caught in the middle of some hunter rays. Th–at’s all.”

They had to think about that one, impossible as it sounded. It had lingered for a while now—the exact time, Freminet was unsure—enough for it to have dulled into the background. Drowned out in the thrashing, crashing waves of haunting memories, if you will. “Two? Th– th–ree?”

Another light sigh, Freminet found themselves shrinking to their shoulders, as though it would foolishly bring them solace, only for their brother to oh so gently place a hand over their shoulder. The other hand found itself occupied with a medical kit—one of many in the house—set between them on the sheets. “Raise your chin, keep it up,” the showman instructed, too gently for someone like Freminet (at least, in their mind), whilst rummaging through the less-than-organized supplies scattered through the scratched-up, worn case. Reluctantly, they lifted their chin, hoping, praying to Lady Focalors herself that the trembling of their hands did not continue Its waves through the rest of them. Why were they still shaking?

Blinking the blurry haze from their eyes, they stared deadpan ahead at the walls as though they were most captivating. Ignoring the sizzling sting ripping through their neck and calves, and the cautious cotton pads pressed and patted against their skin. Instead, focusing on the black-and-scarlet diamond patterns that lined the clean bedroom walls. Confetti strings of any pastel color one could possibly think of popped through the macabre colors, especially, they noted, around where the magician’s top hat hung. Hanging, with violet bows and ribbons sagging without life. The world slunk away to the back of their mind, melting into obscurity. A blank void, detached from reality, with ever distancing thoughts. Just how Freminet enjoyed things.

“Freminet!” The sharp voice snapped them out of their daze, hands flung up protectively as they jumped. When that fear dissolved, its only remnant being a rapid thudding in their ears, they were not met by a threat, but soft concern. And yet, it was like his eyes burnt them. “Don’t scare me like that. Why didn’t you answer the first time?” Lyney’s voice strained with a forced, uncomfortable laugh. His hands came to their shoulders, forcibly turning them to face him. Like a knife struck through their chest, locking eyes sent a spark setting aflame an instantaneous flashfire of unreasonably intense panic. Freminet’s eyes snapped away. They couldn’t even look their own brother in the eyes. They could feel the worry of an older brother increase tenfold, both figuratively through the burning of his gaze and the tightened grip, nails pulling the fabric.

“I’ve seen you look a lot of ways, Freminet, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this rattled.” It took a lot to not flinch at such a quiet tone, from a showman known for his extravaganza. Then, came the dreaded words: “Please, just tell me. What’s wrong? What happened?”

Their throat tightened, heart sinking to their boots. A realization clicked in at that very moment. A rather haunting one.

He’s not going to believe me.

Who would?

“I–“They refused to look up at him. They couldn’t. They couldn’t, all they could think about was that thing. “I c—I don’t—” They sputtered, only for their voice to fizzle out, instead replaced with a spinning light-headedness, their heart still drumming In their poor ears.

“Never mind.” Huh? “We’ll talk about that later.” Freminet almost looked up at Lyney, only to take it back at the first sign of eyes. They couldn’t get that image out of their mind, as if it had been branded with a scalding iron. Contrastingly, Lyney lit up, brightening as if he’d gotten an idea, one of which could be one of two things: clever, or incredibly dumb, and both naturally entailed mischief.

“Say, Freminet. What about a magic trick?” said the magician, already reaching into his sleeve with a contagious grin.

“…Huh?”

“A magic trick! Just watch,” he insisted, whisking out from his sleeve a Romaritime flower. “An ordinary flower, yes? No strange properties about it—” he tilted the small blue and pink plant— “just a pretty, spectacular flower. Now, watch closely.” As Lyney waved his hand over the illuminating petals, their shine coating his scarred fingers in a gentle light, they couldn’t help but wonder; why was he doing this? Why now? Freminet had watched this trick hundreds of thousands of times, so it wasn’t new…

With another wave, the flower vanished. Like every time before, Freminet blinked with surprise. Hearing his giggle, Freminet’s hand reached for their shoulder, expecting to feel the damp petals between their fingers…

It wasn’t there. Hm? They glanced up at Lyney, to be met with the most vibrant of smiles. And though they didn’t look, they just knew his eyes were sparkling. They could picture it, clear as an undisturbed, crystalline lake.

Their hand reached up for their hair. Sure enough, their fingers brushed something, but it was no flower. No, it felt like… With a few more touches, they traced a weaving wire, something softer intertwined through the gaps. Curiously, they gently removed it from their head with both hands and could not help but stare. A crown of Romaritime Flowers, crafted with shaky experience. The flowers still were freshly damp, with small droplets decorating the hidden wire and reflecting their pastel bloom. Their stems interwoven through and around the wire made for not only stability, but comfort and aesthetics. Amazed, they turned it in their hands, and for but a moment, their burden was lifted.

“How did you…” they trailed off, subconsciously glancing up at their brother’s oh so distinctly pleased smile.

“Magic, dear Freminet.” Lyney’s hands took their own hands, guiding them to place the floral crown back upon their hair. “Now—what do you say we go meet up with Lynette? She’s just out shopping, maybe it’ll help to get your mind off whatever happened.”

They were, admittedly, a little more inclined to decline. But, Lyney had a point—not only that, it was better than being stuck in here, alone with the thoughts they drowned in. “Th–at’s fine,” they mumbled.

“Wonderful! Come get me when you’re ready. And, oh, let me know if any of the bandages come loose, I can fix them up for you.” Springing to his feet, Lyney extended a hand for Freminet to take. Inclined as they were to decline, they eventually accepted his hand.

Through the streets of Fontaine, Freminet strolled on between their two siblings, finding a warm safety with their sunshine incarnate of a brother and deadpan sister. They would have to be a fool not to recognize that Lyney was taking them sightseeing as a distraction, even though the trio had seen the sights many a time now. They had also spoken to plenty of familiar faces—‘they’, being mostly Lyney chatting people’s poor ears off–which, if you asked Freminet, was a bit of a bonus. They did not, however, enjoy all the concerned glances at their bandages, and not just from strangers. But from Lynette, too…

Lyney had simply told her he’d explain later. “Just act like nothing happened, and don’t ask,” he had whispered to her, to which she had nodded. And they went on with the casual day. At least they’d dropped it, Freminet hadn’t a clue how they were even meant to explain what occurred, even if they theoretically were to tell the truth.

That brought the siblings to the open sea. More specific to the fishing area, where divers and fishermen gathered ‘round a particular area near a stand where many bought their scuba equipment. Even Lyney seemed distracted, casting curious glances to the way of the crowd. Threading their ways through the web of people, Freminet overheard a voice, one striking against the murmurs of distress. The voice told of a story of a failure. A failure all too familiar to Freminet.

Lyney and Lynette’s gazes were drawn to the very center. Freminet peered over their shoulders, seeking the source. Packed as the crowd was, they vaguely could see something, someone, whom the crowd was gathered around. An ordinary man… to anybody else.

Their eyes locked. Time screeched to a halt.

Freminet didn’t think twice before they whirled on their heels, shoving through the crowd and taking off. The wind in their ears muffled out the call of their name from their siblings, their feet carrying them away from the scene. From it. And yet, they did not truly know where they were fleeing towards—it was like they were right back there. Detail for detail, sound for sound, every incessant noise repeated in their mind as a broken record. Endlessly.

Nobody would ever believe them.

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2/2 | 2252 words

Blood. It stained their pale hands, their own frightened gasps all that reached their ringing ears. Reeling, their mind scattered, icy stare fixed upon the twitching man outside their cover. Sick, gagged wheezes uncomfortably close to that of a laugh fell from his bloodied lips. That man was Cyrille—not somebody Freminet knew particularly well, but they knew he had chemistry with several other divers. The poor man rattled so violently, his back arching and facial muscles so tense it stuck into a twisted, wide grin that burnt into their mind, clearer than they ever would have hoped. Though his brown eyes held firm contact with those of the diver’s own, Freminet knew that man was long, long gone.

After all, how could anybody who had their ribcage and the guts within gouged out of them in one fell swoop, ever survive?

Freminet tore their eyes from the macabre sight, bloodied hands clamped hard over their mouth. Into their hiding place, they’d sunk once more, knees pulled tight to their chest for any semblance of security. That horrid, horrid scene, it played on loop, over and over like a broken record insistent on playing only three seconds of material. It felt all like an eternity to them.

One moment ago, hardly even, they traversed through the underwater tunnels in a group of seven. The mechanics had come here for one simple reason; investigate the source of the faults in the underwater tunnels close by the Fortress of Meropide before they had a chance to cave in. Freminet came as their backup, in the case of flooded areas needing to be checked. The next? Bloodshed. By what? All they saw were its eyes. Low, towards the ground, wide without eyelids, skulking and slinking as it snarled and skittered. They had been fast enough to avoid it, though not to land on a hit on the swift, four-legged humanoid. The others?

They… were not swift enough. Nor did it seem they had the same instinct nor knowledge to know when not to fight, to put it as least morbidly.

Drip, drip, drip, the tunnels whispered, echoing through the metal chambers like a clock. It was safe to say they had found the source, if there was any bright side to this.

Drip, drip, drip.

Crunch.

Drip, drip, drip.

What was that? Scowling at the coppery scent filling their nostrils, their head rose. The crunch and crack of bone did not go unheard, even from the small cubby they’d locked themselves in. Cowering like a fool, as Father would say. Blankly, they watched the dim light, straining to reach through the rusted grates they hid behind. Their mind raced as they tried to figure out what that disgusting noise was. Crunching, cracking, ripping and slopping like teeth tearing into—

Their heart dropped. They curled tighter into a ball, their stomach twisting painfully. Never had they felt so disturbed. Never had they felt so horrified – and they had seen a plethora of things no man should ever have seen. That thing, it’s- it’s… Freminet did not think they’d ever felt so disgusted, so disturbed.

Above, there was a creak. A distinct groaning of metal, over the ongoing foul feast outside. They looked up. The somber illumination flickered. The thing shifted, shuffling about. Bubbles, waves, vigorous currents, all pried with destructively eager intent at the weakening points where tunnels connected. Fontaine workers constructed everything to remain safely secure against the strenuous attacks of tides, above or below the water’s surface—and yet, it was a wonder these tunnels only had decided to crater now, the state they were in. Not like Freminet could prevent such a disaster anymore—they just had to go with the flow, if you will.

In a split-second decision, they decided they would. Not without a deep, crushing terror in their chest, of course. A fear more suffocating than the deepest ocean depths could ever dream to be.

And then, it burst—roaring water rushing in, rampant without empathy. A crystalline, turbulent blue, pouring and flooding the tunnels with a vengeance. The cool water pooled around their shoes, running off the waterproof fabrics of their sweater as it rolled through. The inhuman wails and shrieks outside made Freminet’s deep breath stutter; a chilling reminder of what they had to face. No time, their frantic brain unhelpfully reminded. Breathe. Breathe, they repeated to themselves, as the water pooled higher, higher, until suddenly their knees were submerged. Just outside, that creature thrashed. Just breathe.

Lyney and Lynette are waiting for you. And Father will be disappointed if you die here.

They kicked open the grates, wincing as one of the bars unexpectedly snapped off, flying off at an angle. The force of the flood nearly knocked them over, but they’d managed to stagger to their feet, albeit with questionable balance. Just in time, of course, to watch the flimsy bar fling right on by the flailing creature’s head, before it was whisked away by the current. Now, as it flailed like a fish out of water, Freminet got an unfortunate, fleeting glance at the sight beheld in front of them. It almost reminded them of a Blubberbeast – the dull blues and sandy yellows, the structure of its arms, its legs, even it’s somewhat fin-like hands. In any other regard, it was anything but one of those carefree water puppies. A scrawny thing, with a blanket of loose, limp skin floating around it, and an entire lack of a neck to elevate its disfigured head—an amalgamation, an only vaguely humanoid monster. Freminet hoped it drowned here.

Despite themselves, they allowed the water to sweep them off their feet, taking the first opportunity to swim by that struggling horror, and towards the gash in the sturdy metal. Despite their racing heart, despite how they thought their eardrums would explode from the pitch of that hysterical, hungry squeal, despite the bloodied, half-eaten corpses floating to the top of the tunnels. It even abandoned its meal, Freminet spotted in the corner of their eye, that now-faceless man drifting limply to the surface, wisps of crimson following his ascent. It preferred its prey live, apparently. Don’t look, don’t look don’t look don’t look don’t look—

Soon, much to Freminet’s joy, the water had filled the tunnels up to the top, any remaining air pushed out in the form of meek bubbles. Miraculously, they’d gotten past it, propelling themselves out into the vast ocean blue, dark and shadowed yet still visible enough to the trained eyes of the diver. Calm down, you’re not going to be able to breathe if—

Thunk. Right behind them. Startled, their head whipped around, only to be met with a sight that, had they ever been given the opportunity to erase any of the many traumatic memories that burdened them, that would be it.

Cyrille. Or the thing molding itself into his form. The limp blue flaps of strained skin filling and expanding with the steady, sudden generation of flesh as it stroked against the water with practiced ease like a Blubberbeast’s, its spine protruding from its back like dull dagger blades vanished into back muscles that strained with unpracticed effort of someone—something, they should say—that never, or rarely swam with such anatomy. Carelessly cut locks of sodden hair sprouted rapidly from its scalp, pushed back as it swam up, up— Shit, it can swim?!

In a heartbeat, they whirled, swimming upwards at accelerated speeds. They hoped, faster than the speeds that mimicking monster could reach. Even the fish, from the relaxing hat jellyfish to the scrapping hunter rays, they all scattered, fleeing fins slicing the water. Freminet only wished they were small enough to hide in the colorful corals as the marine life could. Instead, they just had to make it to the surface. How hard could it be? How hard could it be? That said… how far down were they?

They couldn’t yet see the surface. Any nearby cliffs or seaweed to give some sort of judgement were masked in darkness, and if Freminet was beyond them, they sure as hell couldn’t tell, nor would they be turning any time soon to check. Freminet didn’t know where it was – had it given up on them? They hoped so. Maybe it has, they tried to optimistically hope, courtesy of Lyney’s frequent insistence they should do so, don’t stop, just keep going, and don’t look back, don’t look back—

Something wrapped around their ankle. Chubby, long fingers, coiling around the waterproof fabric of their diving boots. An urgent yank, and nails scratched and clawed tearing through their pale flesh. Their scream was a lost, choked sound to the waves, the vile taste of pure salt flooding their mouth, and like a tsunami, their adrenaline spiked. No matter how they blindly kicked, more often than not, they’d kicked their own calf or just straight up missed entirely in attempt to detach those claws as they climbed up, and up. Up, until when Freminet spun around, they’d came face to face with a tight-lipped smile, and amber eyes so unsettlingly predatory and wide, it was a miracle they hadn’t popped out of their sockets. In their panic, they had nearly forgotten all about one thing, obvious in hindsight they should have turned to long ago.

It was only when the nails of the mimic managed its way around their neck, slicing and cutting into the flesh so fast Freminet, in all their frenzy, could vividly see and remember heaps of water dyed ruby, that they remembered. Or maybe it was just survival instinct.

Under their feet, a cold solid burst emerged from nothing. A slab of sheer ice shot curving upwards, knocking back the head of the thing—Freminet had to admit they were slightly disappointed it hadn’t been decapitated—before it could do any further damage than it already had. Freed from its grasp, and by pushing themselves off their very own materialized ice, they continued their ascent, ignoring the tang of saltwater filling their lungs and the enraged wail behind them. Surely the surface was near, right? But where’s the closest land? No, don’t think about that. Don’t, just please don’t. Don’t make yourself panic more. They’d already messed up their breathing, they couldn’t afford to again, lest they drown here. If you don’t drown on land… that was a lot of— No. Stop.

Suddenly, they could breathe. Sprays of droplets flew, peppering the still waters as they abruptly surfaced. Crisp, biting cold air of nearing dusk had burnt their throat, and their immediate response was a heavy fit of coughing and gasping. Ignore it, ignore it, you’re fine, they repeated, eyes adjusting to the dying rays of sun reaching over mountainous peaks like an angel’s wings. Oranges and golds danced across the waters rippling surface, split as they paddled straight towards the sandy beach not far. Already, they could feel that rush of adrenaline fading, one of very few times their arms and legs burned with the exhaustion. In hindsight, maybe exhaustion wasn’t all.

Soon gravel scratched their knees, fingers digging and sinking into the sand as they climbed up. Water sloshed behind them, dripping off their diving suit and hair. Once they deemed themselves far enough away, and figured that thing wouldn’t be surfacing yet (maybe they’d accidentally frozen it? They could only hope), only then did they let themselves crumble. Gagging, sputtering, water spilled from their open mouth as it was pushed from their lungs, heaving gasps for the oxygen they never thought they’d ever so dearly miss.

It felt eternal, sitting there on their hands and knees, spitting out all that saltwater and glancing back at all too still waves waiting for something to emerge. However long it may have been, it was enough for the adrenaline to fade, and for the stinging pain to rear Its ugly head. Only then, Freminet realized how much of the sand had been tainted red from their own wounds. Too much to be comfortable, far, far too much.

How deep of crimson it contrasted against the fine, sullen yellow grains, and Freminet only could wonder how much of that deep orange flitting amidst the still water was reflections of sinking sun, and how much was their own blood. They weren’t intending to find out. Nor were they intending to find out if that thing would peel itself from under the mask of uncanny calm that currently sat in front of them. With a deep breathe, they pulled themselves up, flinching and hissing through their teeth at the desperate protests and jolting sting that shot through their body like lightning. In the distance, they could see the Court of Fontaine, thank Focalors herself it wasn’t as far away as they thought it was. It would take a while, but what other choice did they have? No medical supplies, no way to stop the bleeding, no way to call for aid, likely no passerby at this hour. No sane one, anyway, and they didn’t think they were at risk of bleeding out, even if it really stung.

And so, they willed themselves to take a single step. Another, then one more, and they found themselves traveling at a swift enough pace with a single goal in mind; find Lyney or Lynette.

All the while, they left a convenient trail of crimson staining the sand behind them, a perfect lead for something to creep its way into the walls that was Fontaine’s unsuspecting capital city.

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#☆。* | kaii's fics #☆。* | gi fics #freminet #genshin impact freminet #genshin impact lyney #lyney #genshin impact lynette #genshin impact #genshin impact fanfic #genshin fanfic #body horror #tw horror #tw body horror #tw dissociation #horror #fontaine #fontaine siblings #genshin

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faggylilpunk · 6 months ago

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Finnaly made a tumbler! Anyway, haiii! :3 i am albert, i am a punk dragon dino!

What to expect:

very leftist ideologies

Politics

16+ posts

A lot of photos of me and cass

Talk of crimes (anything serious will have a tw and be tagged appropriately)

Furry & therian content (tho less common)

Punk diy stuff (i plan to make some tutorials for a lot of the diy stuff I've made<3)

F-slur/T-slur (I am reclaiming them but will have them tagged as #f-slur and #t-slur if they bother you ofc! Not changing my @ tho, it kinda means something to me qwq)

I may post words like slut, whore, and other degrading terms, they will be tagged as said word (ex: #slut) so you can blacklist the tag ^^

I may talk about themes of self harm, violence, abuse, or explicit substances, all of which will also be tagged! (Ex: #selfharm #tw:selfharm) but i will also have a more descriptive trigger warning for heavy subjects like self harm, sa, abuse ect. If you dont wanna fully blacklist the tag ^^

Some of my patches will have things that fall under these^ o will likely not go through the effort of censoring and i might not tagg it unless it's fairly close up so if it really bothers you just block me ^^ no harsh feelings

This isn't a 18+ blog, nsfw pfps will be blocked to keep ppl safe, my cusion follows me

Do not interact if:

Nsfw pfp

Anyone else, feel free to argue and talk shit, i will put nazis, pedos, fascist, zionists, zoos, racists, and who tf else i hate in thier place or just block ya after trying lol

About me:

trans masc/enby person (gender bxy)

therian/otherkin identifying with a dinosaur-esk dragoniod (yes, I'm aware I am human -_-)

I am a plushum, meaning I have romantic and/or sexual attraction, twords plushies. I consider my bunny plush one of my partners bc i love them very much

Furry

Pansexual and arojump (under the aromantic spectrum)

I am diagnosed with autism, adhd, dyslexia and dysgraphia

Self diagnosed and peer reviewed with social anxiety, gender dysphoria (duh), bipolar disorder (not sure which one yet tbh but it's exstreamly obvious to my bipolar partner lol) and potentially dyscalcula but im not fully sure so take with a grain of salt

Mutual/social anarchist, i really wanna be able to set up a free market where I live one day

I am very vulture culture, frequently bring home dead animals to burry for respect and bones

Very left leaning if it isnt obvious enough

I've been called the f-slur & t-slur a few times. Now i call myself that because what ya gonna do if I already call myself those oh so scary words?

Im atheist and dont believe in any form of life after death but like I support yall having freedom of religion, pagens, Christians, Muslims, Satanists, like go for it, I just simply cant understand the idea of a greater purpose

I grew up where slurs were used casually. I have racist redneck family. Thankfully, I grew up to realize wtf is actually wrong with that side of my family ?-? You can break out of shitty thinking, there is no excuse for racism, homophobia, transphobia, ableism, ect. Like get a life

I try my best to support, but we can only walk places, and we frequently eat outta dumpsters

More will be added as i think of stuff

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oswednesday · 1 year ago

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waa @proceduralbob tagged me! thank youu

name: wednesday

pronouns: they/them

where do you call home?: without the right to roam, in a planet with boards and states and nationalities, this is kind of a faulty concept, people ask this sort of thing to judge your worth, sometimes i poke fun at people for like what state or city they live in but know its kind of in a post-ironic or whatever sort of way, i live online! but i suppose the geographical answer is the usa equating that with home feels gross, home feels personal and all encompassing, doesnt it?

favorite animal: im like, rabbit themed, so there's that of course i love so many animals i feel like i have a fave per genre of animals, im really into jellyfish , my fave owl is great horned, i also love flamingos and giraffes and bats and cockatoos

cereal of choice: i only eat cereal as intended like two months out of the entire year max, i like applejacks (with banana slices) and cocoa bunnies from the annie's brand (with strawberries) (cereal feels really naked without fruit on it!)

visual, auditory, or kinesthetic learner: im pretty sure this is something that gets taught in schools in conservative states cause no one gives a fuck whether its junk science or not, i Prefer someone to show me how, then walk me through it and then ill do it a bunch with assistance until i get it, but thats often so taxing to be vulnerable with someone else and not everyone has the patience for me so maybe like visual/kinesthetic/auditory in that order maybe? maybe thats just self fanfiction

first pet: fish! like the first animal i was aware of like, the concept of a pet like we have a pet in the house were two box turtles but those were like, my parents pets, they did not take good care of them! the first pet i consciously was like i want to keep and take care of them were fishes

favorite scent: (oops i forgot to remove the previous answer and fill this in)i have a lot of scents i like but rn i think murphy's wood oil soap!

do you believe in astrology: i think there are three "categories" of astrology

there is the math; the history and the culture and the arts and how much it like is apart of human history like that's real and inseparable from understanding the world around us you cant be like well thats astronomy because its also people folk lore and mythology of their cultures and belief systems and that kind of math was not separate from each other, it was used and is used as aid to make complicated numbers more digestible, as a way to memorize and to pass along oral traditions, its also a form of a people's wealth, so thats real yes

then there's social/economics/psychology of it like time periods coincide with ups and downs of wealth in a place like historically and its also like how the seasons impact people, what food is available, what sicknesses are more easily transmittable during certain seasons, which impacts somewhat the way we interact with the world as early age roles are set in by family, society, so on, thats real

then there's my cringe fetus in the womb is an aries i can feel the energies, that shits fake, but that feeds back into like point two and this point isnt any different than the other awful ways parents can interact with their children about 'metaphysical' matters

so i suppose yes i do, like, in a social science and a traditional art sort of way

how many playlists do you have on your music service of choice: i have a lot i like to make playlists a lot, maybe ill share them with the internet more often

sharpies or highlighters: highlighters are cute! sharpies have more use though, highlighters might win simply for the cute factor

song that makes you cry: once the pokemon 2 movie starts its ON <-the tears, from the ost for some reason

song that makes you happy: i listen to a lot of vashti bunyan and haruomi hosono for that feeling, oh maybe im not answering these correctly, i know nobodies got me like still alive (portal 2007)

and finally, do you write/draw/create: i do all kinds of gay stuff

#wednesdaycore #anyone can do this! if you do tag me back so i can seee

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dogstarblues · 1 year ago

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Last Song I Listened To:

"You" by Tennyson! it's a sweet little song and i use it for my qpr-in-my-series playlist. "What's the point of that? I could be pressing flowers with you. Savor all this time rather than fret all afternoon. Take me from my thoughts, now would be riper than limes in June." so soft.

Last Book I Read:

The Ballad of Black Tom by Victor LaValle is the last book i finished. phenomenal book. absolutely wonderful on a craft level. It pushes the reader to question the role of a black main character in an american horror, pushes the reader to question what constitutes horror is for black americans, and in that push answers your question for you, delicately, carefully. Deserves all the praise it got. Recontextualizes one of the most racist lovecraft stories and shows the character of Black Tom's humanity even as Black Tom tries to leave humanity behind. also. sentence level? so fucking good. down to the sentence it's so good.

I'm currently in the middle of like 15 books but off the top of my head

Witch King by Martha Wells

Dreadgod by Will Wight

To Say Nothing of the Dog by Connie Willis

On the Shoulders of Titans by Andrew Rowe

The Future Is Disabled by Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha which feels more like a manifesto than anything else so im not really getting as much out of it bc disabled people on tumblr have been talking about the contents of this manifesto since 2015 or earlier

The League of Gentlewomen Witches by India Holton

The Last Sun by K.D. Edwards

Paul Takes the Form of a Mortal Girl by Andrea Lawlor

Way of the Hunter by Samer Rabadi

Female Masculinity by Jack Halberstam

Coming up, I'm doing a buddy read soon of The Black Shoals: Offshore Formations of Black and Native Studies by Tiffany Lethabo King with @markeyverse and a buddy read of The Cooking Gene: A Journey of African American Culinary History in the Old South by Michael W. Twitty with @toopunkrockforshul and a book club read of When the Angels Left the Old Country by Sacha Lamb

Last Thing I Watched:

Star Trek: The Next Generation. I simply don't Watch things these days, unless we count youtube, in which I have watched Drawfee's "Driving from Washington to Mexico for Charity" to cope with grief bc omg you do not need your brain for that. it's comforting. and also my roommate is obsessed with Azerbaijani Village Cooking Videos and points out different foods and how like the ones he grew up with they are and how they differ from Georgian and Russian preparation and consumption and he tells me the names of the food and what they taste like. so we watch that almost every night if i dont fall asleep first.

Current Obsession:

my own work tbh. my poetry, my fiction, my paintings. trying to get better. i suppose outside of that. hm. my interest is turning toward gay nuns as of yesterday with a Realization of christian religious trauma being more real than i thought. im looking at "Immodest Acts", "Lesbian Nuns: Breaking Silence", "Scorched Grace: A Sister Holiday Mystery", and im hoping "Sisters of Sorrow" is gay bc if its not what the fuck are you doing. but i cant delve into them all yet nor buy them yet. and im trying to prioritize my TBR.

i'm also reading eco-justice poetry/nonfiction, afrofuturist, transformative justice, disabled, and solarpunk literature for my solarpunk wip

Tags 8 people:

im tagging yall. no big if you dont wanna do the meme. im gonna go lay down now. sleepy.

@filthburgur @cadencekismet @mysanaf @vorellaraek @markeyverse @pacifistrun @outside-your-window @cassandors

#dogstar speaking

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eldritch-spouse · 2 years ago

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I discovered your blog bc I was wondering what Teratophilia means (when seeing tags) and just landed here. I knew I liked monsters but damn, I spent almos 3 hrs reading every bit of breg content. I love that stupid cutie, why did you made him so lovable. I feel like encounterin him would be like encountering a stray cat, i cant resist taking him home and being my forever pet.

But now, to the question: Continuing in the "What if MC was a breeder too"

What if MC was a breeder from the institution and they scaped by pure luck but is so afraid of interacting with any other breeder bc they just remember what it entails and doesn't want to have more children? Yknow, like trauma-response.

What would Breg do?

[It's odd to me that there are monsterfuckers out there who don't know these tags. I've seen "exophilia" go around, but it's such an umbrella term, it encompasses things that I'm already not into, I think "teratophilia" is the more correct tag. But I'm not here to start a debate on that.]

I'm glad you enjoy the resident beanpole, he is as lovable as he is incorrigible and awful. I don't fancy monster!readers too much, but I can humor this a bit. I'm also putting aside the fact that Breg is a humanfucker for this.

Chances are you're not going to find many breeders outside. If any at all. Finding Breg is an unlikely but still possible event, luck must have a quarrel with you.

You have trauma responses, he has trauma responses, what else is news? Fact is, Breg would become immediately violent towards you, unless he recognizes you somehow. Unless you've bonded during captivity, for whatever reason. Not much changes, Breg's still entirely delusional about you, though for different reasons than his erroneous glorification of humans. He does want kids, he'll continue to want them, and in this case, I think he'd be scummy enough to get you pregnant during your heat. Your freak out is expected, and even if you're capable of wounding the monster, he's still top specimen, bigger, faster and stronger than you.

Perhaps, if you were human, Breg would think twice about betraying you like this, about hurting you. But you're not, and he doesn't spare other monsters the same amount of consideration he does to humans, sometimes even subconsciously. He may perpetuate forms of abuse he endured simply because he hasn't processed anything that happened in captivity in a healthy manner. In fact, a relationship with Breg where you're a monster is uglier than one where you're human.

#Bregory #mellsfern

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cerealmonster15 · 1 year ago

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Someone mentioned Jamil/Riddle/octotrio polycule a total of one time and I feel like it was you(idk who else it would be,,) and it is driving me insane . what if . They were messed up. And in love .

first of all I’m obsessed w/ the implications here. “Idk who else it would be” either implying you just aren’t recalling others who talk about them, or I have simply Made Them My Brand Who Else Could Possibly Speak Of Such A Topic Other Than Tumblr User Cerealmonster15 BSBDNFNFNGY anyway. I have no idea if this was or wasn’t me but god I probably have mentioned them in some way shape or form bc I too Love Them. I have six billion jamil/azul posts. I love riddle/any of the fish boys bc they’re ALWAYS so fucking funny when they interact. I like that Jamil and floyd are basketball boys that like to dance. Jade and Jamil in that one anthology manga were cooking buddies (also trey was there but this ain’t about him) (sorry trey I love you trey). Azul and his long term bond with the tweels ft their nonstop psychological warfare with each other (especially Jade and azul. Like what is wrong with them LOL) is so sweet and so funny. I made Several Posts About azul riddle and Jamil trio and write a fic about them the other day bc they make my brain go teehee. Here look at some trio stupids: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 Jade is here too 9 10 11 12 13 14

Another random doodle I found. Riddle experiencing tweels. I was looking for the tag there I went into depth talking about Floyd/riddle but I’m on my phone at lunch break and CANT FIND IT but it tends to get a random like now and then so if it happens to pop up again I’ll link here too. If I try to post all my jamiazus here I will Die. But they’re all on my blog tagged jamiazu lol. I know I’ve drawn riddle/Floyd and riddle/Jade but I’m not sure if I’ve posted many of them or if those stayed in private or discord 🤔 I was literally looking at my pure ref board of art inspo last night and was looking at a BUNCH of riddle/Jade art from this person on pixiv with a cute “storybook style” of art and I was thinking “god no one understands me like pixiv artists do. Rarepair solidarity 🤝” I also think about the difference of these dialogues

Jade: i respect riddle :^) I wonder what he thinks of me 🤔

Riddle When Jade:

Hdhfjffbby “horrible scheming bastard of a guy”

Bonus from that same vignette, Riddle When Azul:

HES SO SO SO FUNNY he sees a fish and is instantly like 🤢 We Have To Leave Right Now. And they’re all kind of obsessed with him I think. God I could talk for so much longer and add 6000 more screenshots if I weren’t at mobile and also at the end of my lunch break sbfnfnnffntjjg

Bonus I forgot to mention this doodle i. Ade in my new mini sketchbook the other day when I was testing out new pens and noticed their Colors LOL

STUPID!!!

#asks #twst #I WANT TO TALK MORE ABOUT THEM I HAVE MORE NONSENSE TO SPEW WAIT-#this was just me posting links to my posts and screenshots but #I could ramble more im LIMITED but I LOVE BEING ENABLED

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sm-baby · 11 months ago

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I BETRAY MY BREAK FOR A FEW SECONDS CUZ I CANT STAY QUIET ABOUT THIS ANYMORE

@attleboy IM SURE YOU DON'T NEED ME TO SAY HOW MUCH I ADORE THIS.. IVE BEEN TAGGED BY FOLLOWERS, MUTUALS, FRIENDS FROM DISCORD, AND ASKS ABOUT IT, AND I BLUSH AND FALL APART EVERY TIME I REMEMBER IT /pos IM SO GLAD YALL KEEP REMINDING ME THIS EXISTS..

The amount of fucking EFFORT this took.. OH MY FUCKING GOD... YOU TOOK THE SKINS AND ABSOLUTELY RAN WITH IT ... THIS IS SO EMBARRASSINGGG... ive been so jelous of you cuz of your work, AND TO SEE REALLY GREAT STUFF FROM YOU ABSOLUTELY DESTROYED MEEE this took so long cuz I wanted to give you a proper response to, 1. Make up for the time, 2. MAKE UP FOR THE WORK PUT INTO THIS CUZ GOD DAMNNN

THE COLORS LOOK SO COOL AND EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEM LOOK SO COOL the fact that you scrounged around for different species of insect and bug as well- AGH THATS SO MUCH EFFORT... THATS SO MUCH EFFORT ITS SO EMBARASSING THAT ITS GIVEN TO MY SILLY LITTLE CREATIONS /Pos

I love how they still very much maintain the big boss sort of energy as well.. if not, they look MORE BADASS!!

I ADORE Zooble's design... I adore Zooble's design so much. You fully leaned into the spikey exoskeleton a Mantis has- IMMM THEY ALSO JUST LOOK SO BADASS IN GENERAL... THE COLORS ARE SO GOOD. You translated the mantis eyes into fun big shapely glasses and they look AUGH SO GOOD!! I adore how polygonal they look as well.. the little details and swirls aughhwba dkzn oh my god help me(also... Claw arm... Claw are looks SO FUCKING DOPE...) Her little mantis friend also looks very friendly and colorful... They are gentle... Also I don't know if this was on purpose but the like-- gears :3c? On their joins makes them look like a toy and I think thats perfect... For them.

THE TWICE-STABBED LADYBUG... Youre so fucking right bestie the name is so metal... So simple yet fitting for our lovely little doll lady!! Ragatha you look GREAT in black hehe... Also also!! I love that her dress has a little outside to reflect the ladybug elytra, and the smaller thinner white frills and lace to replicate the wings itself! She translated really well into a lady bug eee heheh oh my goodness.. her cite little ladybug friend has very little spots Im- aaa the spot has a cross on it making it look like her button!! ToT THATS SO CUTTEE

POMNIII POMNIII OH MY GOD POMNIII A CUTIEEE she looks adorable and over all just absolutely stylish! The swallowtail was great in terms of translating her hat to still have the pointed jester look... Also Pomni in general just looks ADORABLE in your style oh my god... i want to hold her.. her heels... I want them.. the butterflies on the heels, the shapely sleeves it just feels absolutely right for her oh my god... I squeeze her so much...you made her feel VERY pomni... I LOVE HERRR, the ribbons on her gloves the patterns on her hat ITS SO PRETTY AND CUTTEEE WHAT A SWEETIEE shes so stylish... Hold her like burger

STOP MAKING JAX LOOK COOL NO IM SUPPOSED TO HATE HIM this was a very simply change, but I specifically adore the fact that in his non-sentient form his scarf would just be the centipede itself?? Like the friendlier family friend cutesy centipede you might see in a nursery classroom... WHILE IN HIS PRESENT FORM-- the chains are SHARP, SCARY, could actually HURT someone if they poked it... He just because more metal and sharp and I eat it up. The SHAPE of the collar looks SO fucking cool and— DID YOU CHANGE THE SHAPE OF HIS EARS TO MATCH- ATTLEBOY IM GOING TO FUCKING SHAKE YOU--(edit: YOU ALSO ADDED GOGGLES IN PLACE OF THE SUNGLASSES STOPPPP) it something so simple, but i love the centipedes crawling around him... It adds to how fucking disgusting he is, and also gives me the vibes of snakes on someone's shoulders.

GANGLE MIGHT BE MY FAVORITE NOT GONNA FUCKING LIE.... LIKE ACTUALLY... GOD DAMN... I... WOW?? the way you make her ribbons longer and a lot more spindley to match the legs of the spider CHEFS KISS she looks GREAT! And youre so right the specie and her are INCREDIBLY similar!! i love the fact that the ribbons themselves have a cobweb pattern to it, cuz-- yes!! Gangle does trap her victims in her ribbons, which would equate to webs! I love how her cute little spider friend has a sad face on to reflect the tragedy maskk... Nooo OHHHHH TOT and hehe... I don't know if this was on purpose... But the way her ribbons twist around reminds me of a spider's body ... Like the butt at the bottom and the base on the chest... Hehehe.. i thought that was cool...

I love their added little insect friends 🥹 half of me thinks that thats what their minions turn into if you put the skin on... Waugh.. but I also like the idea of a little pet heheh

ANYWAY

I LOVE THE SELECT SCREEN OH GOD... the little details like it moving from each arrow first before clicking enter STOPPP i assume this was all animated, WHICH FUCKS ME UP SO MUCH!! ITS WAS SO WELL DONE AND I LOVE IT... The curtain in the background like theyre in a dressing room for a play, the way that the skin collection is a caggeee...Gonna stare at it for awhile... MAYBE THE INSECT COLLECTION WAS THE FRIENDS WE MADE ALONG THE WAY-

This went on for MUCH longer than expected... But I really wanted to express how well you did.. you did SO great and-- again I don't think i need to tell you that X3c im glad this got so much attention! You did wonderful Attleboy and in general just have-- AMAZING art! This is in such stark contrast from your usual sketchy work! This was so well done, well lined, colored, ANIMATED, and over all just.. very quality stuff! Oh goodness! Thank you very much! You did great!

i thought too hard about insect motifs got a little silly and made... a lot lmao these versions of the characters are from @sm-baby's amazing digital carnival au!! full images and rambling about insect choices are gonna get stuck under the cut... it'll be a bit long and i will be putting photos of real bugs down there so be mindful

pomni: "butterfly"

inspirational species are black swallowtails mostly for the shape, and malay red harlequins mostly for the pattern

carnival pomni's actually the one that kickstarted this whole set... i drew her hat in a way that reminded me of butterflies, went "wait...", then i fully leaned into it :)

jax: "centipede"

there was no specific species for jax. without being able to use color, they were too similar to pick any out... i have included a giant centipede just for reference though since it was mainly larger centipedes i used for inspiration

anddd there's a little bonus sketch for how pre-sentience jax might've looked with a centipede outfit... he gets a bug scarf and some goggles!

ragatha: "ladybug"

inspirational species was the twice-stabbed ladybug chosen because the inverted color scheme looked the best out of all the ones i tried, and also because it's a metal name and we know ragatha's good with a knife... stabby stab... i did add more than two spots to the dress though, it just looks cooler lol

gangle: "spider"

inspiration was the spinybacked orb weaver which i was absolutely ecstatic to find because come on that is the perfect spider for gangle like look at it!! it looks like her mask, it's got red, it's got gold on the limbs, literally twinning

zooble: "mantis"

inspiration was the spiny flower mantis which, like with gangle, i feel is pretty much perfect for zooble... they come in many colors (including pink), have abstract patterns, and it gave me the excuse to cover zooble in spikes :D fun

and no kaufmo because i'm lazy and he's dead (sorry kaufmo fans but am i wrong), and the rest don't have bug names that i know of?

i still want to draw the carnival characters in their regular looks sometime, i just got really really inspired by the idea of secret skins and bug-themed outfits and went a liiittle haywire :P

anyways if you read all that you're a real one and you've got too much time on your hands... if you didn't, i understand, i get wordy, sorry :'D okay i think that's all byeee

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spooky-dollie · 1 year ago

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I do not think there’s anything wrong with cultivating a place online you feel safe in (a little personal rant)

Tw for suicidal mentions and abuse and loss mentions

I see some people online seeming to think it’s being weak if you block tags or people associating with something that hurts you (mostly older people) but I think everyone has a right to feel safe so block away.

I’ve been trying but it’s a constant battle. Twitter is like pushing the rock up a mountain. Virtually almost impossible it feels. Tumblr is like feeling disappointed every few days when I have to remove more, even though the people will never know because I’m one follower in hundreds.

My having to come to terms with my various trauma very quickly in the past year after escaping abuse AND dealing with major loss and grief has made me bite back and value my safety more because I could not die (I’m glad my attempt failed now) so to live properly and happily I need to fucking value myself and my feelings and mental safety for once in my life Yknow??

I cannot continuously ask things of others. I cannot ask them to tag like guns and SA mentions and things forever because people eventually stop caring and after all it’s not their job, I cant ask them to consider me forever, so I have to do that myself in the form of blocking and muting and using extensions to block words or change them or censor them etc but even still, things often slip through online, an example being a horror game going around that’s just fucking disgusting and involves sexualizing SA/abuse and I’m not fucking dealing with that, that’s block on sight.

I don’t know man

I’ve been going through a lot and I deserve to feel safe finally I guess

I’ve had to even avoid my favorite anime a little. I skipped some episodes because they featured violence that I..cannot handle because of the grief. It makes me sad. I hope eventually I can heal a little more so so much media isn’t out of my reach but for now I will toughen up enough to simply take a breath and block more tags and work towards happiness and peace again. Everyone deserves that, even me.

#that’s enough for now #maybe I’m just tired of being tired #vent #tw suicide #tw sa mention

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irageneve · 7 years ago

Photo

“A genuine smile can speak a thousand words”

A photo taken by Zen who fell in love all over again with his man when he caught the magic moment.

HanRyu CollaboART with my amazing @jumin-love \o/

BONUS: Hyun wants to frame the photo for their happy home <3

#jumin han #elizabeth the 3rd #hanryu #collaboart #juzen #juminzen #jumin x zen #mystic messenger #i like the feel of this so much that i simply cant form more tags #i mean i stood almost 1h for the post itself lol #\o/ o// \\o /o/ \o\ \o/

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writeshite · 2 years ago

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This is my first time requesting sth and it feels weird, okay-

So, for about a week I had that one idea of a Morpheus/Love!Mmmale Reader, Like hes one of the Primordal Gods-> More important than Morpheus and [...]. ON the point. I wanted to ask for an angst to fluff. Like while Morphy is locked or, Reader, who is married to Morpheus, falls asleep and noone can wake him up, so people(and gods too ofc) slowly Loose their love(Love in as the feeling). AND WE ALL NEED LOVE. So when morpheus then wakes up again he goes back home, cant find his Husband he searches evrywhere, He has a lot of canonly flashbacks and stuff blablabla. After a while he visits the Readers Realm and sees that it's also destroyed blublublub he wakes them up and happy end. I just have I writerblock atm...

If u want to u can add smut but idrc '-' Also its just fine if u dint wanna write that. :D

With greetings

~Luce

It Is Better To Have Loved And Lost (Than Never To Have Loved At All)

Summary:

Among the thousands in existence, you chose him. Took his hands and demanded he ignore the ire of your kin, placed a ring on his finger, and declared yourselves wed. “I am Love; my union ascends all others; we need no blessing nor any witness,” Morpheus remembers laughing, head bumping yours as you swayed with him. “My Love….” he whispered to himself, head hanging; he heaved in a breath, glancing up at the harsh light above; surprising himself, Morpheus prayed. He muttered your name, you were a god, you would answer his prayers, but there was no such luck.

Pairings:

Morpheus x Male!Reader

Tags:

Words: 3981

Author's Note:

Welcome, I adore the request, and as usual, went diving through the internet for some of that good ol' ✨research✨ I also spent way too long reading through Greek Myths, but that was just for my own amusement.

The bleak sandy plains of the dreamworld were one of the last things you saw; the domes and expanses you and Morpheus had once spent hours crafting had fallen, shifting to nothingness as the realm died in its primary ruler’s absence. All around the remains of the palace, dreams faded; the nightmares were not spared this fate, their forms dissipating. Lucienne had long since left, possibly in search of another primordial god, one who could perhaps drag you from your stupor and continue your duties. But how could you, your husband, the very being whose love you’d come to crave, was gone.

The anguish of the waking world without Morpheus sent you diving into the dreaming world; very few gods ever chose to sleep; you’d only done so before to experience what humans did, and now you did so to dream. To dream of your husband. Of his voice. Of his eyes. Of his love. You slept to dream of what you’d been so unfairly robbed of. It had started simple; you’d lie on your side, eyes distant yet thoughts running, then you’d closed your eyes, relaxed your mind, and the thoughts became a nigh reality. His voice close yet far, the memory of his touch a shiver on your skin - the rush of euphoria had sent you falling from the bed. It had only been a few minutes, and your consciousness - the very being of love - had barely left the world unnoticed then, but now? Now you curled away at every chance. Hours became days, then weeks, and soon enough, you went six, maybe seven months sleeping, all the while the world around you withered, love thinning as your mind turned to slumber.

The higher beings were well aware. At first, they hadn't thought much of it, but now they quivered as they turned against each other, hatred seeping into their celestial domains, and what little devotees they had turned away, they came, begging, screaming, crying, but you turned away. They would hound you with pleas, and you would curl the pillow around your head, block them out and walk into the comfort of your dreams. When the Dreaming decayed further, you simply returned to your domain. The Dreaming decayed, but that did not deter you; your own domain - the Gardens - fared no better. The flowers and trees you’d once adored and tilled with Morpheus wilted around you, and a few of the nightmares and dreams followed you, seeking refuge, unknowingly trading one ill fate for another. Their fear, their frustration, your lament, it all soaked into the Gardens; the plants grew, thorns sprouting forth, fruit rotting, and leaves falling; they caged you away. And you rejoiced, welcoming the isolation.

You slid your arms into Morpheus’ coat - the only one you’d managed to grab before they’d all disintegrated - the sky was a starless blanket, and the once abundant wildlife had twisted into nightmarish creatures - cries reminisce of weeping. The blankets lulled you in, warmth loosening your limbs, your eyes drooped, Morpheus’ soft laugh sounded in your head, your arm stretched out along the bed, and you mumbled his name, eyes finally drifting shut. You opened your eyes to Morpheus, the world around you equal parts a dream and a memory - the Gardens as they once were, golden domes polished, outlandish creatures and fantastical plants greeted you. The echoes of the higher beings outside drifted away as Morpheus took your hand, the memory - many happy moments combined - the dream - Morpheus by your side.

“Elegant as always, my love,” his copy spoke, thumb stroking your cheek.

Your eyes softened at the nickname, love, nothing to many, but to between you and him, the greatest declaration, the assertion that your devotion was returned.

“My love.”

The words strung through your ears, never going louder, as they brought your mind serenity, he held you close, and you did your best to return the touch. His form felt empty and unreal, but you did not dwell on it; too much introspection and the dream would fall apart. You drew apart, “Shall we head to the terrace?”

You nod, and the world moves; the terrace comes to you, a table laid set, synthetic food lay waiting, aromas you remembered surround you, and the phantom touch of the sun shone brightly as you dined. Books flew at your command, but their pages held no words, at least none you’d understand - gibberish passages replaced the hymns of Apollo - despite that, you read, remembering what it was meant to be.

Morpheus held out his fork, a piece of cake on end; it tasted of nothing and everything, flavors of cakes from eons gone past, merged with imagination and memory as they danced on your tongue. The tastes of the other foods followed the same pattern, but it mattered little to you.

“My love.”

The echo returned, and you slumped back, thinking of the open foyer in the upper domes; you blinked, finding yourself there. Your head lay in your lover’s lap, his hands combing out the strands of your hair; you began to hum, nothing in particular but your voice carried through. The euphoria returned, imbedded with your love for Morpheus, partial but powerful, your mind drifted into a haze, and you welcomed it.

“Ridiculous,” Morpheus muttered, “Heinous. Betrayal. Blasphemy.”

“We’re going to socialize with others of our kind Morpheus,” you sigh, “not being led to the gallows.”

The endless groans, burying his head in your shoulder blades, he’s still comfortably dressed in his casual attire, whereas you don your signature fit. A pastel neck collar that grew softer as it stretched to your shoulders, parting to showcase your arms, it continued, descending down your body alongside the cape from the collar, slowly morphing into soft feathers at the bottom. Your golden arm braces were heavily detailed in motifs of your domain, and the cloth around your legs began by your belt, split on the sides up to your waist; your legs accompanied your chest, being on full display for all to see.

“Could we just not stay here?” he asks, and you turn, hands on your hips, and you shake your head.

You open your eyes, smiling to yourself; Morpheus had grumbled about the gathering - fond of very few other cosmic beings - and you’d spent close to a half hour kissing the pout from his face, arriving at the party quite fashionably late. You sat up, finding yourself in the memory of that night, the vision of you and Morpheus, hand in hand, as you spoke to Nyx. Nyx, whose eyes turned to the real you, gaze pitying, “Love —” she called you again, but you shook your head, unwilling for the scene to fade away. She’s swept away, form replaced by memory, the dream is intact again, you enter and dance away the worry. The guilt. And the pain.

Time has no hold here, the only indication of its passing being the interruptions of your kin; Nyx finds her way back in multiple times, star-styled dress drifting behind her. You run, and she chases; you throw what your imagination conjures; sometimes, it’s enough; other times, you have to hide. Her hands always reach out for you, anger and desperation in her gaze.

“Love! Cease these games and awake!” her demand carries over the horizon; you hug your knees; you’re sandwiched among clouds today, watching the primordial night pull at her hair as she searches for you. “Love! Please, we need you, we need Love.”

You place your hand over your ears, lie on your side and bite your lip; her calls die down after the third hour, and you wait another hour before leaving your hiding place. Morpheus appears before you, the copy smiles easy, and you take his hand once more, happy to be free of any disruptions.

Morpheus’ cage allowed him little privilege, his physical form burned at being contained for so long, and he yearned for the Dreaming, his freedom, and you. You, who would lay sweet kisses along his face, tuck a strand of his hair back, and leave a rose in its place.

“What use do I have for roses?” The flower was devoid of its usual thorns, the petals ruby and soft to the touch, he reached to remove it fully, but you stopped him. Pulling him to sit beside you, you hold his face, tenderly gazing at him, and Morpheus shudders, the adoration surrounding him.

“They are gifts, testaments to my love,” you’d replied, thumb brushing his cheek, “you so rarely indulge yourself in material possessions; allow yourself this.”

Morpheus smiled to himself; the rose became a fixture in his room, placed in a vase by the bed. You adored leaving flowers in his clothing, little surprises for him to find, something to cheer him up if need be. He’d tried getting you something of equal value, but you’d stopped him, picked him from the ground, and held him in your arms, “I need no other gift than my dream.” His prison has no such luxuries.

“Do be careful, darling,” you’d said to him.

Morpheus had grinned, “No nightmare could get the better of me, my love.”

“All the same, come back to me in one piece,” you told him, seeing him off with a kiss.

The last kiss he’d gotten from you, he absent-mindedly reached up to his lips, fingers grazing them; your honeyed aftertaste was fading, as was the usual warmth he felt, the love, it clung uncomfortably around him, as if clinging desperately to this plane. He was thankful to be alone at this moment; what anger he used to mask his despair seemed to slip as he placed his head against the glass of his prison. He traced your name, looping the letters together; he repeated the motion, grounding himself as best he could.

“I love your eyes.”

You’d hold his face ever so lovingly; noses pressed close as you counted the stars you claimed to see. Morpheus would hold you close, head against yours, eyes barely open as you plowed into him.

“I love your voice.”

You liked to hear him speak; the baritone of his voice did wonders when he read to you; you’d work his body as you did the ground, kneading, delving, pulling until his voice grew hoarse and his body became lax.

“I love you.”

“My Love….” he whispered to himself, head hanging; he heaved in a breath, glancing up at the harsh light above; surprising himself, Morpheus prayed. He muttered your name, you were a god, you would answer his prayers, but there was no such luck. The love he was adept at sensing was fading, so he sleeps, his only refuge, that which they cannot take from him. He finds himself alone in the dream world; even there, he curls into himself, thinking of you but also of vengeance.

A century passes, and then another few years before he escapes. Rage is all he feels at first, dissipating only when the younger Burgess is placed under eternal sleep, then its emptiness, uncertainty, and weariness. So long without his tools, he finds himself weak, so long without you, and he finds himself empty. Both leave him feeling uncertain. He returns to the Dreaming to find nothing - no home, no creations, no husband - he finds Lucienne, but she does not meet his gaze at times. When he asks after you, Lucienne grows uneasy, eyes darting and avoiding the question. She teeters on the verge of something, a secret on her tongue, but she says nothing.

“How do you see through this?”

Morpheus quite liked his helm; having crafted it from the remains of a god, he’d felt proud when he persevered long enough to carve it. “Hang on, I think I’ve got the hang of it now,” you said excitedly. The helm looked out of place on you, but Morpheus paid no mind to that, more focused on the impersonation of him you were performing. You closed your hands behind your back, head high; you deepened your voice and walked forward, “I am the Sandman….” you moved your hands in an arc, fingers spread to emphasize the nickname.

“Are you done?” he asked.

You laughed, pushing the helm up, “Have I offended you, Mr. Sandman?”

“Evidently,” he replied, a small smile on his face; he followed willingly as you dragged him towards you, the helm removed and set aside.

“Oh, how rude of me. Allow me to earn my forgiveness then.”

Lucifer regarded him with mild indifference as he turned to leave; despite the general atmosphere of hell, there was something amiss. Morpheus couldn’t quite put his tongue on it, but the demons and the Lightbringer seemed off, perhaps less emotional than they should be. An odd hypothesis, but “What’s wrong with you?” he asks either way.

“As if you don’t know,” she responded, glaring as if waiting for him to say something. When Morpheus looked at her with confusion, she paused, eyes squinting before she laughed in disbelief, “Come now, Dream King, your games won’t do you any good, not when this affects us all.”

“I don’t understand —”

“Oh, you really don’t know, do you?” She grins wickedly, dismissing him with a wave of her hand; Morpheus leaves hell more confused than when he entered. Retrieving the Ruby leaves him exhausted, and Morpheus becomes acutely aware of a dull feeling, the rush of his powers again covers it, but when he focuses on it, he finds it, the hole in his being; it’s not until his hostile reunion with Desire that he understands what is amiss. Love, there was no love. This became ever more clear as he watched the humans; the park he’d fed birds at wasn’t crowded; the few people that were around seemed robotic; some still moved about as they should, but sometimes, they would stop, as a collective, expressions downcast as if in mourning. The children are perhaps the worst off, some of them cry, and their parents, the adults around them, almost don’t care, numb to their spawns.

“You know then?” Lucienne’s question drew his attention; she stood solemnly beside him, having appeared with another - Nyx, the Night - her usual starry appearance was as empty as a cloudy night sky.

“I know as much as I knew when I regained my freedom,” he replies, “yet, I know little of my husband. Where is he?”

“In a prison of his own making,” Nyx spoke, voice equal parts exhausted and full of rage, “though I am remiss to consider it that anymore.”

“These cryptic answers give me nothing but headaches,” he grimaces.

Nyx fully turns to him, and Lucienne steps back, the primordial goddess is not one to be angered, but Morpheus has grown weary - every other person he’s come across knows, every single one making it clear it involves you - yet they refuse to explain.

“It’s best if you see for yourself,” Nyx tells him.

Morpheus remembers the first time he stepped foot in the Gardens, an accident really, at a time when the cosmos was relatively young, you’d been in the midst of ‘borrowing’ a few animals from the early Earth. He remembers how sheepish you’d looked when he’d bumped into you, dinosaur egg terribly stashed away, “I’m preserving them,” you’d defended, clutching the eggs to your person, “besides, Gaia will have them dead in a few millennia, what harm would it do to keep a few?”

You always were handsome, even when thieving things from another’s domain. You’d been caught, of course; Gaia was the more observant of the primordials, but it had been fun, and he’d joined you on many more ‘preservation trips.’ The Gardens had been a sight to behold then; what could have been and what had been grew unhindered, kept beneath your domes and around the domain; they remained forever new, never wilting, nothing like the Gardens he saw now. The entrance was covered in tall thorny branches; wilted, unhealthy roses sprung from them, some reaching out to attack anything that got too close on either side - over that, he spotted movement, the animals you’d once adored had been replaced by monstrosities, their shrieking howls reverberating around him.

“He’s been asleep all this time? Did none of you think to wake him or check on him?”

“You think we haven’t?! We can’t get past this; the only way I’ve been able to see him is in his dreams, a feat already difficult given your previous predicament,” Nyx seethes at him. “He refuses to wake.”

“No –he wouldn’t —I don’t believe you,” Morpheus turns his back on them.

Lucienne sighs, “Love’s been disappearing in the world; there’s no solution, none that we’ve found —wait!”

Morpheus had slowly been moving towards the branches and, at Lucienne’s call, had climbed over one; he shifted the size of his body, jumping, and ducking over the obstacles, all the while ignoring the warnings from his companions. He stumbled through to the other side; the creatures turned in his direction; Morpheus trekked past them slowly, always sure to keep them in his sight, growing antsy the further he made it into the Gardens. The first attack came from a flying beast, Morpheus had bumped into one of the columns, and the sound seemed to have been enough incentive to launch an attack on the endless. It dug its talons into his sleeve, making off with a good chunk of it when he swatted it away. The ones closer to land pounced at him, claws and teeth ready to make a meal of him.

They bite at his heels, and no amount of sand will put them to sleep. He looks around, mind racing to plan an escape; most of the stairs have decayed, and the only way into a majority of the structures seems to be climbing; he picks one of the lower domes - with broken windows, and a tree already crashed into it, he makes haste, ignoring the gathered animals below him as they reach up. He’s even happier when they don’t follow him, turning their backs, as Morpheus does the same. The interiors are just as altered, portraits covered in dust as vines crawl their way along their frames, and the plants are as twisted inside as they are outside. The carpets curl along their tears; Morpheus notes the silence, the occasional sound from outside coming through.

Your chambers were the only safe haven, unchanged as they were; the doors squealed as he entered. Your body lay beneath the covers, his coat around you, and the curtains drawn shut; the closer he got to you, the less dull he felt. The retreated love was here, amplified tenfold into whatever dream you were in. He shook your shoulder, calling your name, but you remained asleep, snuffling and rolling over, “Darling, please, you must awake,” he tried.

No response.

You smiled, mumbling his name, and snuggling further into the duvet. Dreams, you were trapped in your dreams; you needed to step out from the dreams. Morpheus positioned himself more comfortably, “Sorry for the intrusion,” he says before entering your dream.

He falls. Fast and without control, it takes him a moment to gain it, and when he does, he meets the ground far softer. The world around him is the Gardens as they were; he hears music and heads towards it, but the world doesn’t allow him, it redirects him away, and Morpheus has to assert his control. Vines shoot out to hold him back, but he persists, tripping over them onto a terrace to see you laid back with him, correction an imagined him - the details are near identical, but Morpheus, on account of the mob of beasts, is far more rugged in appearance.

“Love?” He calls out, and you look at him, surprised to see him; the imagined him vanishes as you stand and back away.

“This is cold, by a lot of standards, this is very cold,” you mumble, “imitating my husband so you can drag me back into the waking world.”

“Imitat —no love, it’s me, I swear,” he reaches out, but you almost flinch, backing away further from him.

“No, you’re not because he’s not here, he’s gone, and I can’t do a thing about it. So just turn around and leave me be.” He steps closer, and you step back, circling each other and getting nowhere; he reaches out at times but your retreat, using the dream space to keep him away. “You’re persistent; I’ll give you that.”

“I persist because —”

You hold out your hands in a shushing motion, “No, I don’t want to hear it; I’m sick of the fabricated nonsense you’ve all said.” You turn away from him, swinging one leg over the balcony, but Morpheus reaches out, dragging you back by your shirt - you topple into him, landing atop him; you twist around and pin his arms in the air, now thoroughly frustrated. “Why can’t you just fuck off?!”

“Because I want my husband awake,” he replies.

“Stop it! You are not my Morpheus. You’re just some cheap knockoff!”

He winces when your grip becomes tight, the searing burn of your powers on his arms, “Please love, I swear it’s me,” he pleads, “Look at my eyes, really look at them.” Even with the power of imagination, nothing quite captured Morpheus’ eyes; you squinted your eyes and shook your head, expression morphing away from wrath.

“No, this has to be a trick; I can’t fall for this again; I don’t think I could bare it….” You say, grip becoming loose again. He sits up slowly, wrangling his arms free, your own moving to hold your heads, “....I can’t….please….don’t make me….” you sobbed.

Morpheus calmly moved your hands aside, now holding your face, “Love,” he calls your attention once more when you refuse to meet his gaze, “I assure you, as I live and breath, I am real.”

“You can’t be; it’s —” you’re still crying, words cut out and muddled as the sobs wracked your body.

“I am real,” he repeats. Morpheus recites the words as many times as it takes, always keeping your gazes locked; after once such repeat, your hand comes up to his face, thumb rubbing softly against his skin. Your eyes widen, “See,” he says, bringing your hand back and kissing it, “real.” It’s a rush when you collide with him, clinging to him desperately, “Now, will you wake up for me, my Love?”

You shake your head, “What if you’re not there? Even if this isn’t a trick, it could just be me,” you lamented, “me and my madness.”

“No love, I promise, if you open your eyes, I will be there,” he reassures you; you’re closer now; the silver of his eyes shines with determination; he leans closer, “and I won’t ever leave you again.” He closes the gap; at first, you’re in shock, but then you cling to him, hands fisted in his shirt, your eyes shut to the dream and open to the waking world. As he’d promised, Morpheus was there; you reach out hesitantly, and when he is as tangible as he were in the dream, you gasp, gathering him in your arms as he awakes.

He holds you, placing kisses on your head as you weep happily; you draw back and kiss him. Morpheus feels the overwhelming rush of love; the hollowness is easily filled as he reciprocates, laughs shared between moments as you rejoice in your reunion.

End Note:

I rewrote this like three times before I was happy with it lmao 🤣 Stay Hydrated.

#morpheus x male reader #dream x male reader #morpheus x reader #dream x reader #the sandman imagine #shiterequests

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chachamaru-s · 2 years ago

Text

into the night

akaza x fem!reader tags: human reader, breeding kink, face sitting, fingering, multiple orgasms, orgasming in tandem, mating press, dominant akaza, they're in love your honor words: ~4.8k a/n: sorry this took so long! i hope you enjoy it request: can you do a akaza x fem reader breeding kink , face sitting( where the girl sits on akaza’s face.) and akaza is the dominant one and also fingering and the girl is human

You knew it was ill advised, sneaking around after dark alone. But it was the only way to see him and try as you might, you could never keep yourself away. He lets you know he's there with flowers he's compared to your eyes left where you can find them, a romantic gesture that swirls adoration in your heart every time you see it. It is a practiced game between the two of you by now, and where it started seems so far off now. So of course, when you saw a bundle of those flowers just waiting for you, you knew where you would be that night.

On the edges of town, there's an abandoned shrine. Humble, one room, deity long since forgotten. This is where he always meets you. A place where you won't be disturbed, a place where the two of you can simply be together in a way you know is impossible in daylight. His affliction eludes you, but you are keen enough to have pieced together tidbits. His unusually pale skin, the markings that trace it, his proclivity for nighttime. Even smaller things, like the way he moves, paint him in otherness.

But you do not mind these things. In fact they are charming little peculiarities that draw you further to him. He is a brush of excitement in an otherwise mundane life, a man who is surely worldly for the stories he tells, a man who lives by his own standard for how freely he comes and goes. He is different, and you love this about him. So you sneak out despite knowing how your mother would fret, and you go unaccompanied to see a man with only one name.

"Akaza?" You call out into the shrine as you enter, not immediately seeing him. In an instant, he materializes beside you, touching your shoulders. You start at it, just so, but settle just as soon as you realize it is simply him. He moves so fast, you never see him coming. Perhaps this should worry you, but instead a smile is brought to your lips. "I came as soon as I was able." You say, leaning into his touch.

"And not a moment too soon," He replies breezily. "I was starting to think maybe you got married in my absence." He says it as if you ever would, as if you could find a man who makes you feel the way he does. No, no other man would satisfy you now that you've had a taste of Akaza, and he had to know that, if the sly slant to his words meant anything.

"No, of course not!" You object as he makes his way around you, circling you like a predator would its prey. But you do not fear violence from Akaza - his appetites are much more sensuous, something you have come to learn in your meetings with him. You know it's wrong, but you can't stop yourself from indulging, cant stop the shiver of excitement that skitters up your back as his eyes rake over your form.

"What?" He says in a mock affectation of surprise. The slyness remains. "No man keeping you warm at night? Filling your womb with babies?" He twists a loose strand of your hair around his finger, breath warm against your ear. His vulgar way of speaking excites you even when you know it shouldn't, even when he knows he's the only man you want touching you.

"No…" You know what he's doing - he's trying to fluster you, trying to get you to admit things that would warm your cheeks to say out loud. It's his way - he's always trying to pull something out of you, and you always relent. It's part of his draw, the hold he has over you to make you act out in ways you normally wouldn't, admit to things that should be shameful to speak into the air.

"Could it be you were waiting for me?" He asks, leading you to admit that it's only him you want, that if anyone will be giving you babies it'd be him. Already your cheeks flush but there's a part of you, too, that plays his little game. One that doesn't want to give him what he wants so easily, so you purse your lips and turn your head away from him.

"You already know. Why make me say it?" You do your best to sound offended, perhaps, that he would ask this of you but in truth, you relish this feeling. The way your insides flutter, the excitement that comes with it. You just can't fathom giving into him too easily, like maybe if you're too pliant he'll lose interest. Maybe your resistance is why he returns time and time again. If it is, you'll put up a fight.

He wraps his arm around your middle and pulls you flush against his chest, chin resting against your shoulder as he goads you. "Come on, say it for me." He says, a hint of amusement to his tone. "You know how much I like to hear your pretty voice." His voice is enough to sway you.

"I only want you." You say, too flustered to elaborate on the how's and why's of your statement. His hand wanders to your obi, undoing it and letting it fall to the floor, your kimono falling open. Down your belly his hand wanders, stopping just short of where you want him to touch you. It's a frustrating game you play, but you'd be lying if you said you didn't enjoy it.

"You only want me what?" He asks and you can feel the grin on his lips against your neck. You knew your words would not satisfy him, but to have to say your wants more clearly fills your stomach with nerves. You know he would never think less of you for your desires - indeed, he seems to revel in them - but the modesty instilled in you from your mother makes you hesitate.

His other hand finds your breast, pinching a hardened nipple as he kisses at the juncture of your throat. "Tell me." He says seductively, and your body melts against his. How can you deny him? How can you possibly hold back when he wants so badly to hear your voice?

You relent. His soft kisses and gentle touches sway you. "I only want you to touch me. To make love to me. If anyone fills my womb with babies, I want it to be you." You're breathless at your admission, but it seems to be just what he wants. He nips at your throat, mindful of his sharp teeth, and you shudder at the sensation.

"Good girl." He praises, his hand on your belly wandering further down until he's fingering your slit, deft fingers brushing over your aching clit. Your knees buckle at the feeling of it, but he holds you upright, hand never ceasing its work. Two fingers catch the slick coming from you, lubricating his fingers as they swirl around your clit. You want him inside you, but you know he likes to take his time, to work you undone with his fingers and mouth before he situates himself inside.

"Akaza." You bite out a moan, his fingers working you over. They delve further, until his fingers are circling your entrance and you know you're about to get at least a taste of what you want. One finger slips into you and you let out a low moan as he works the digit in and out of you before adding a second. The movement leaves you feeling full and wanton and you do your best to move your hips to meet his fingers.

"Always so wet for me." He comments, fingers working in and out of you, palm brushing against your clit. It makes you fill to the brim with desire for him, but you know he likes to work you apart piece by piece before finally giving you what you need. You whimper in response, chasing the high he's giving you with his hand.

The lewd sounds of his fingers working in your most intimate area only heighten your arousal - you bite your lip to stifle a moan, embarrassed and excited all at once by the way he makes you feel. Of course, he catches you and his free hand goes to rest under your chin, tilting your head towards him.

"Don't." He says, looking into your eyes, "Let me hear you." The response is immediate, a desperate noise pushes past your lips from somewhere deep within. Your already flushed skin reddens further as his fingers touch you, relentlessly pumping in and out. You wriggle against him, a whine in the back of your throat.

"Don't stop." You pant as his fingers brush against that sweet spot inside you. You can feel his grin where his lips are planted against your neck, his pace slowing and drawing a long whine out of you before his fingers still. It's frustrating, when he toys with you like this. Bringing you to the brink and then pulling back.

"Tell me what you want." He says, fingers still inside. To put some fire at your heels, he wiggles his fingers just enough to cause sensation before stilling them once more. It's just like him to tease, to make you admit things that should be shameful to say aloud. "Beg for it, and maybe I'll give it to you." He goes on, and you groan at the edge to his voice, knowing that you've worked him up without even doing anything but being pliant in his arms.

"Please…please Akaza," You whine, squirming against his hand in the hopes of any sort of friction. "Don't stop. Touch me, /please/." You sound pitiful even to your own ears, but it must be to his liking as he chuckles behind you and continues moving his fingers inside of you. The palm of his hand rubs against your sensitive nub, pulsing with need. It's not enough to fully satisfy, and that frustrates you as you lean back into him trying to enjoy yourself.

You can feel him nosing your hair, taking in the scent of you as he touches you more intimately than any man ever has before. But he knows your body by now, knows just how to move his fingers to reach that spot inside that makes you sing. "You're so beautiful like this." He says, and you can hear the desire in his voice. It takes you to new heights, just knowing that he wants you as badly as you want him. But you're getting antsy now, another whine pushing past your lips.

His grip tightens at your waist where he's holding you up, he kisses the side of your head. "Does my girl wanna cum?" He asks, grinding the palm of his hand against your clit. His lewd words coupled with the touch of his palm is enough to make you cry out, willing to do anything for him if he'll just give you release. You mumble something, so lost to sensation you don't even know what it is, but it must not be enough for him. "What's that? I couldn't hear you." His voice is husky in your ear as he nibbles your earlobe, prompting you to speak more clearly.

"Please, please, I want to cum. Please make me cum." You cry, to be met with his devious chuckle as he works his fingers in and out at a steady pace. Your knees are quaking with effort to stay upright as his thumb moves to circle your clit. Your body is an instrument his hands know how to play, and before long you feel breathless, chest tight with the effort of breathing through the pleasure you feel. Your knees give out as you fall over the edge, a moan high in your mouth.

He holds you close as he leads you to sitting, his fingers still working you to overstimulation. You keen at the feeling, breathing through it until he grants you mercy and slowly retracts his fingers. Your eyes close as he kisses along your jawline, arms wrapped tightly around you, his cool flesh calming the feverish tint of your skin.

In your post-orgasm bliss, you wax poetic about him in your thoughts. How he seeks your pleasure perhaps even more than his own, how he brings you trinkets of affection, how he holds you just like this, as if you are something precious. You know that he is a rare kind of man, for sex is usually a gesture of a man's pleasure rather than a woman's, and yet, you have enjoyed every moment with Akaza.

There is a word you have for the feelings he inspires in you, but you're too fearful to voice them. Is this even a world where you can be together? He comes and goes as he pleases, only returning for you, he says but is that enough? Your hands go to touch where his arms rest around your waist. You have to know what you are to him, if he feels for you the way you feel for him.

"Do you love me?" You ask, voice quivering. He holds you so gently, and you have a feeling that's saying something. He kisses you, adores you, pleasures you. But does he love you? You feel nerves fluttering in your gut as you wait for him to respond, not knowing how he will, unable to anticipate him even in this.

"I keep coming back to you, don't I?" He answers as if he's not even sure what that means. You can tell by his tone that you caught him off guard, that this is a question he doesn't know how to answer. You squeeze his arms and turn to look at him, at the shock on his face.

"Yes, I suppose so." You answer, trying not to let disappointment settle in and ruin the moment. You only have this one night with him before he's off again, when to be seen again anyone's guess. You look away from him, finding it too difficult to face him in this moment. He doesn't say anything for a long minute, just kisses your shoulder, your clavicle, your neck. When he does speak again, he sounds like his usual self.

"I don't know anything about love. But I need to see you. I need to touch you. Is that good enough for you?" And it sounds like a promise, like if you just say yes you can have him like this forever. You look at him again and he's looking at you with such intensity that everything just falls into place, and you know. As much as a man like he is able, he loves you. Whether he even knows it or not.

"Yes, that's good enough for me." You respond, softly taking your hand and cupping his cheek. You lean into one another, slotting lips and kissing languidly. Slowly he maneuvers you out of your kimono entirely, lays you down atop it, kissing his way down your body. Your neck, your collarbones, your breasts. His hands are kneading into the flesh of your hip as his lips venture further down. His hands follow, gripping your thighs as he kisses each jut of your hip bone.

Anticipation swells in your gut - he's done this before, and every time it leaves you feeling dizzy with want. He looks /hungry/ as he nibbles your inner thigh, maintaining eye contact with you as he does so. You can't look away, wouldn't dare when he's demanding your attention the way he is. You reach out to touch his cheek again, and he leans into the touch, peppering kisses on the soft flesh of your thigh.

He makes a show of spreading your legs, hoisting them so your thighs rest on his shoulder as he stares down your sopping cunt. He wastes no time in dipping his head forward, licking your juices from your folds. Instantly a shiver runs up your spine, oversensitive as you are from his previous attentions. Never missing a thing, he grins up at you before diving back in, tongue laving over your clit, suckling it between his lips.

Your back arches, hips bucking against his face. Already a song is passing your lips, one you'll only ever sing for him. He kisses your clit softly before diving deeper, nose rubbing against your sensitive nub, tongue swirling around your entrance. A high noise pushes past your lips as his tongue enters you, not nearly as satisfying as his fingers but a sensation all its own.

His hands reach behind your hips, pulling you up towards his lips as he tastes you like a man starved for it. Your hand reaches down to thread fingers through his hair, holding his head where it is as if he's even inclined to go anywhere else. He growls when you tug at the strands, mouth never ceasing its efforts on you as he lifts you up as if you're nothing, lays on his back and deposits you on his face.

The shift in position causes you to cry out, your knees on either side of his face as you grind down against his mouth. You've never been in this position before and it's as thrilling as it is terrifying, but you're too lost to sensation to worry over it too much, rutting your hips against his face in desperate movements as his tongue finds its way back towards your clit.

You look at him through hooded eyes, finger still twined through pink hair. You think he looks so beautiful like this, unnatural eyes closed, long lashes fanning out over pale skin. The sight of him beneath you, between your thighs prompts a moan from you as your hands scramble to grab his from where they rest on your thighs. Your fingers entwine together and you grip his hand tight as you ride out your pleasure, taking it from his mouth with every swirl of your hips.

"Ah!" You moan as the flat of his tongue swipes across your clit, your grip on his hands tightening as if he's the only thing keeping you upright. Already you can feel the breathless feeling burning in your lungs, signaling an impending release. He peeks his eyes open to look at you then, knowing your close and wanting to watch as you come undone on his tongue. Your hips move a desperate tempo as you chase your high, your orgasm shaking over you as you nearly fold in half, knees shaking.

He takes his time cleaning your release from around your entrance, his tongue teasing as he drinks you up. You sit there panting, twitching with every swipe of his tongue over your sensitive folds. When you finally have the energy to move, you can see the evidence of your slick glistening on his lips. He makes a show of licking them clean, inching closer to you as he does so and grabbing your leg to urge you to lay down across your kimono.

You do as he bids, you know him to be a rather insatiable man and he has yet to have his own pleasure. His hands trail a line up your legs, to the curve of your waist. "Are you ready for me? Or do you need some time?" He asks, voice cocky as it ever is. Your chest is still heaving with the aftershocks of your orgasm and your mind feels hazy with pleasure. You would hate to make him wait, after he's made you feel so good, and indeed you want him to /keep/ making you feel good.

You reach out to him, where he's kissing every inch of your flesh that he can get his lips on. "I'm ready," You sigh out, loving the feeling of his lips on you. He kisses his way up your body, arms on either side of you until his lips meet yours in a languid kiss. You can taste the essence of yourself in his mouth, the vulgarity of that fact heightening your subsiding arousal once more. You wrap your arms around his neck, holding him in place as you kiss him at your leisure, nipping his lips and tasting his tongue.

He pulls away only enough to speak, his lips brushing yours as he does. "Touch me." He says and you know that he doesn't mean just anywhere. You let your hands slide up his back, around to the front of his shoulders and trail down between the pair of you. When you reach his waistband, you untie the rope there and let it fall to the side. You slide your hand into his pants, feather light caresses against his already hard cock before you wrap your hand around it, give it an experimental pump.

He groans on contact, hips thrusting against your hand as he kisses you again, hungry and overwhelming. You love when he's like this, when you can make him feel good. He so rarely lets you that sometimes you forget he's a man with needs just like any other. You twist your wrist just so, garnering another noise of pleasure from Akaza. He buries his face in your neck, alternates licking and kissing and sucking on you there as you work your hand around his cock. You pump your hand up and down in a teasing pace, eyes closing to the sensation of his lips at your neck.

"Need to be inside you." He breathes against your neck, his hand suddenly around your wrist, pushing your hand away and replacing it with his own. He brings his cock to your folds, spreading them with his cock and rubbing himself against your clit. Your back arches as he slides his tip from clit to entrance and back a few times, wetting his cock with your juices. Your arms wrap around him again, slipping under his unusual haori as he lines himself up with your entrance.

He groans again as he sinks in, and you gasp at the fullness you feel as he hilts himself inside you. His hands grab your thighs to pull you closer, wrap your legs around his hips as he withdraws before sliding right back in. Your nails dig into the meat of his back as you pull him closer, his hips moving against you. "Akaza," You say his name like a prayer, clutching onto him as he moves in and out of you.

"Feel so good," He whispers at your neck. One of his hands reaches up to cup your cheek as he ceases his kisses on your neck to look you in the eye. "Wanna keep you like this forever." You moan, then, at the thought of being his like this forever, of living your days out under his touch, never to be parted. It makes you feel wanton in a way that could almost shame you were you not so tied up and twisted in him.

"Have me." You gasp, running a hand through his hair. "Make me your bride." You beg, desperate for him to tell you he'll whisk you away and give you everything her parents ever wanted you to have. You don't care how irregular a life with him would be, one who moves as if inhuman, who can not face the light of day. You would weather it all for the chance to be his, completely and without reservation.

He kisses you fiercely, his hips quickening as he pushes into you. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?" He pants against your lips, reaching forward to nip at the supple flesh there. "Being a demons bride, filled with his cum every night." You mewl at the thought, his pace against you relentless now. "Maybe I should steal you away," He says like a promise and you sigh at the thought of it.

"I'd go with you willingly." You tell him, leaning forward in desperation to connect your lips once more. You lick into his mouth, tangled up in the dream of being with him. Soft noises of pleasure escape you as his hips snap against you, his cock driving into you again and again. "I'd do anything you want, be anything you want." You promise, pleasure dripping from your lips.

"What if I want you like this every. single. night?" He punctuates the words with a slam of his hips, rocking your body as his pace quickens. "Pumping you full of my cum until you're heavy with it?" You gasp, hands pawing at him wherever you can manage. "Would you like that? To go to sleep every night, dripping with my cum?" You nod your head vigorously, breath stolen for the pace he's setting.

"Please." You breathe, pleasure making a wanton whore of you. "Fill me up. Make me a mother." You beg, arching your body closer to him. Suddenly the need to have him fill you is so intense, you can feel your walls clench around him as if to keep him there. He curses under his breath, not letting your need slow him down in the slightest.

His grip on your hips is bruising, his eyes wild with lust as he takes your legs and bends you in half, allowing him deeper access to your cunt. You cry out at the sensation, the fullness you feel as he slams into you. Your head swims with pleasure. "You wanna be round with my babe?" He goads, setting a brutal pace. You know you'll ache, after, but you're too wrapped up in him, in the sensations he's giving you to care. Usually, he is far gentler with you but you find that this suits you just as well.

"Fuck, I'll give it to you princess. I'll fill you up every hour, every day until something takes root." It sounds like a promise and you whimper at the thought of it becoming reality. His vulgar words coupled with his thumb circling your clit take your arousal to new heights. You feel like you're about to fall apart beneath him, in the most delicious way possible. You make a desperate noise, so close to your release that you can almost see stars behind your eyes.

"Cum inside, please." You urge him, desperate to feel his release inside you. You feel mad with it, overcome with need. You've always enjoyed your time with him, but this is different, it pulses through you relentless. You know you'll only be satisfied when you can feel his warm load leaking out between your thighs, when you can feel the fullness of it inside you.

He growls at your desperate plea, slamming his hips into you again and again. "I'll give you what you want," He grunts, working his hips harder against you. "This pussy was made to take my load, wasn't it?" He asks and you nod your head, yes, but that isn't enough for him. "Say it." He commands and you're desperate enough for him that the vulgarity of it doesn't even faze you.

"This pussy was made for your cum!" You cry out, watching as a self-satisfied smile crosses his lips. You don't know how much more you can take - your body feels alight all over, mind swimming in a fog of pleasure, you want him to reach his peak and fill you up just like he's promised. You can tell he's close by the discordant rhythm of his hips.

"I'm gonna stuff you so full, you're leaking for days." He says, hips snapping against you as he slams even deeper, reaching his peak with a groan as he unloads inside you. You can feel his cock twitch between your walls, his cum filling you deep and full. You shake as your own orgasm hits you, a keening noise pushing past your lips as you reach to grip his shoulders, nails digging little crescent marks into his skin. He drops your legs then, lets you relax into him as you both come down from your high.

"I love you," You whisper, so overcome with the emotion that you can't keep it to yourself. It's okay, you think, if he doesn't say it back for you know by how he treats you what his heart feels. Even if he doesn't recognize it for what it is, you know that love for you beats in his chest. He noses along your jawline, peppering sweet kisses there before he takes your cheek in his hand and looks you in the eyes, searching for something but you know not what.

"Become a demon," He says, dipping his lips to press against yours. "Be with me forever." There's no hesitation to his request, no fear for refusal. It's a simple thing for him to ask, as easy as holding you in his arms. You look at him with startled eyes, not expecting things the two of you said in the heat of passion to be offered once everything had cooled down. You feel like you don't know enough about the nature of his affliction, feel you don't know if you can commit to such a thing but oh how your heart wants to.

You lean up and kiss him, soft and sweet, and let your answer fall against his lips.

#akaza x reader #akaza x you #akaza x y/n #kny x reader #demon slayer x reader #fem!reader #akaza #cha writes a thing #oneshot #c: smut #c: kny #cha fills requests

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cynettic · 3 years ago

Text

How to Dom Genshin Men 101

Summary - Tips, tricks, and the unofficial guide of how to dominate genshin men in bed. ( Not really- just tips and a quick sneak peak )

Pairings - Fem!Reader x Albedo / Diluc / Kaeya / Childe / Kazuha / Venti / Zhongli / Dainsleif / Scaramouche

Warnings - NSFW ( edging, overstimulation, penetration, pegging, foreplay, bondage, degradation, humiliation, dirty talk, fingering, heavy dom, punishment, cunnilingus, blowjob )

A/N - “How to dominate Genshin Woman,” is up next ;)

Mentions - @clouds-rambles I saw you wanted someone to tag you for a post with Kazuha or Venti content :) sorry if it was comfort you were looking for tho- ;-;

_-_-_-_

Kaeya needs to be told he will be fucked. That you’re going to throw him on the bed and have your way with him. With the blue headed cavalry captain, communication is the key to seducing him into your bidding. Kaeya naturally can be submissive, but he often prefers to take control, so you’ll have to keep firm with him.

Rub his thighs while you whisper into his ear all your dirty little plans. The contact will catch his attention, and he’ll grow hard at the thought of you taking control.

But be careful.

As much as Kaeya can be a bratty sub, he is equally teasing and capable of taking control again. You need to stick hard with your decision, and never falter into his words. Keep him on edge, control his orgasm, make him long for you.

“Y/n… please… I cant take it any longer.”

Kaeya in general is open to many things, so bondage and many kinks are open to him. Use them to keep him blinded in ecstasy and want, until all he can do is whine out your name.

Degrade him.

Play with his hair as he shakes for the orgasm, and pull at his locks when he tries to get off when you pull back. You need to remind him constantly that you’re in control, that he does your bidding and that your words are law.

_-_-_-_

The room was hot, sweat dripping down your neck as you loomed over Kaeya’s toned chest. But the warmth was hardly a bother with the view in front of view, whimpers and grunts escaping the man’s lips as he clenched the white silk bedsheets.

“Y/n,” he breathed, head crushed into the bedsheets by your hand that gripped his neck. You only squeezed his throat tighter, making him flinch and unable to speak. All he could do was try to meet your uneven pace and throw his hips up in an idle attempt to orgasm.

He should’ve known better.

Because you drew up when he was close, lifting your wet dripping pussy from the slick coated juices that covered his dick. Leaving his erect and overstimulated length throbbing as he cried out.

“I decide when you get to cum,” was your only reply, harsh and strict against his lustful desperate eyes. “I am the one in control of your needy little dick right now, so dont even try to find out what I’ll do if you do it without my permission.”

He could only nod, tears welling up in his eyes when you slammed back down on his dick. The obedient way he melted into you making you loosen the grip on his neck, slowly trailing your hand down his chest. Hand settling on his abs as you bounced on his dick, pace getting quicker.

“Cum you slut.”

His seed filled your hole, and his hands clenched into fists as the wave of pleasure washed over him. He curled his toes at the edge of the bed, knees and thighs shaking when you sank back down on his dick. He was reduced to a mewling mess, unable to form proper words.

“You didn’t think we were done did you?”

_-_-_-_

Quick Tip - Touch his chest, especially his nipples. He was his window exposed to the cold air after all~ its sensitive and the contact there with the one on his dick will have him trembling.

Diluc doesnt know how to be anything but dominant in his sex life. He’s unlikely ever had the chance to be at someones complete and utter mercy. In a way, he liked it like that, he likes control better than the unknown. But he trusts you, openly submitting himself to you when you ask. Cause thats all you have to do when it comes to Diluc, ask with a pouty face and a “pretty please?” And its yours.

Diluc probably got the idea that you’d be gentle with him because of your words. Maybe it was your soft expression, or just the way you patted his shoulder and told him he’d enjoy it, you promised.

But you were anything but gentle.

Actually, he’ll likely try to avoid looking at you directly because he might feel ashamed for looking so vulnerable. Scared that you might find him disgusting or revulsive in the state that he’s crying and begging for your touch.

With Diluc, praise him.

Tell him how good he’s doing, how hot he looks all wet and hard for you. Talking about what you’re going to do to him also turns him on, stroke his dick and whisper into his ear how you’ll be pounding it in your pussy.

“So g-good… dont stop… d-dont…”

“Magic word ‘Luc,” you whispered slyly into his ear.

“Please…” he whined almost immediately. “Please, please… p-please-”

But once you start, you’re in complete and utter control.

Unlike Kaeya, he wont be able to turn the tables on you if he feels like it. Being at someones mercy is so thrilling, and all he can do is think about how to make you tell him he’s doing good.

He’ll do everything you ask without hesitation.

A good boy just for you.

_-_-_-_

“Sensitive,” you remarked smoothly as the pads on your fingers rubbed Diluc’s cock. You were gentle, slow and torturous as you rubbed the tip and drank in the boy’s muffled gasps and cries.

Diluc was face down on the bed, hands grasping the pillow and just about shoving it in his face. His hips bucked everytime you touched his needy dick, toes digging into the blanket to support him in any kind of way.

You hovered over his quivering body, a smirk plastered over your face at the feeling of euphoria this gave you. Diluc was never a bottom, and it felt so good to know that it was you who was changing that.

‘He’s so cute being so submissive too…’

Ass up in the air as if begging you to suck his cock, to do anything instead of teasing him with your fingers. Adorable attempt, but if he wanted to be sucked off, he needed to vocally beg for it, plead and whine for your mouth.

You pressed another kiss against his neck, nipping at his tender red skin with your teeth. He struggled and whimpered when you didnt go any lower.

“You want something…?” You asked gently into his ear, holding back the grin when he nodded wildly.

“‘Ask for it.”’

He opened his mouth to say something, but was overcome with the sensation of your fingers sliding up and down his dick. The pillow didnt help, muffling his voice so you couldnt hear him either way. Feeling trapped, he could only thrust his hips into the strokes of your hand.

“Y/n…” he tried, stopping halfway. “I want you to… I n-need you to…”

So you helped him out a little bit.

Your hand quickly came to his neck, holding his face up above the pillow. It was grasped as if you’d choke him, but your touch was soft and gentle enough not to hurt him. “What was that?”

“Suck me…” he sputtered out, thighs trembling. “Please…”

You let go of his neck, instead trailing your body down. You left little kisses and love bites on the crevices of his back, noting how he arched his spine obediently. “Good boy,” you whispered when you got to his cock. You gave the tip a little kiss, “Good boy.”

_-_-_-_

Quick Tip - Get into a position with Diluc that’ll make it hard for him to escape your grip completely. He’s not used to this, so he’ll be really shifty and squirmy the entire time.

Albedo might be a little harder to go about, but it all comes down to how you phrase it. The poor boy is so obsessed with knowledge and discovering more that it really isnt that hard to persuade him with the right words. Tell him that you simply want to experiment body reactions, and that someone suggested a little something ‘different.’

Can I just start by saying that Albedo is probably one of the prettiest bottoms out there? Like the way his mouth opens to moan out your name, but then he chokes back on pleasure and now he’s just breathing really hard, eyes slitted.

During the entire process, he’ll be completely obedient to you and only you. Asking what to do so that the supposed experiment will work.

In general he’s pretty touch craved, so even just the simplest stray of your fingers along his thigh will get him hard.

“You’re… sure this is part of the experiment?”

“Absolutely. Something wrong?”

“No… I’ve just never done this before.”

Make him sit on your lap.

I don’t care if you’re shorter or taller than him. If you’re looking up or down to see his face, because either way its the best position to see his expressions. And the best thing about Albedo is his expressions.

You’re used to seeing his usual stoic demeanor and maybe even the slightest smile that he spares for you. But here, you get to see the pleasure that he cant hide, moaning your name and whining for more.

_-_-_-_

“Like t-this…?”

Your hand was on the soft skin of his back, fingers stroking the crevice of his spine and sending goosebumps up his spine. “Perfect,” you purred back, legs widening under the pressure of him above you.

You could tell Albedo was desperately trying to stay in control of his face, but his body reactions gave way to his actual feelings. Face slightly tinted as he screwed his eyes shut and delved into the feeling of being inside you. His thighs shook as you grasped his hips, slamming him in and out of your pussy mercilessly.

“Y/n…”

The way he moaned your name was just as satisfactory as his dick pounding into your walls. You stroked the sensitive skin of his sides, pinching and gripping his ass. It was tender in your hands, and you rubbed the flesh as you hoisted him up and down into your hole.

“You like that?” You asked into his ear, nibbling at the exposed hollow of his neck.

“The e-experiment?” He began, clearing his throat as if to give you a fully proper answer.

You thrust your hips to meet his.

“Its certainly- c-certainly… I…” He pressed his face into your shoulder, breathing hard as his thighs gave away and he fully submitted into you. Into the sensation of you pumping his length into yourself.

“Certainly what Bedo…?” You teased, satisfied with his unfinished answer. You didn’t want him to give you his hypothesis, you wanted him to tell you how good he felt, how he wanted you to fuck him harder.

One of your hands rose up to his face, harshly pushing off your shoulder. Your hand came to grip his neck, angling his face in just the ‘right’ position so you could view the ecstasy dimming his eyes. Mouth open while nothing but moans and whimpers escaped, head tilted to the side because he couldnt focus on anything but the feeling of you.

“Feels…. good…” he mumbled, hazy eyes threatening to roll to the back of his head.

Your hand on his neck tightened, and you pulled his head up higher so you could see the diamond like mark on his chest. Pressing a soft kiss to the symbol, he tensed, trying to handle the stimulation on both his dick and neck.

“Now thats the answer I wanted,” you simply said in response, thumb rubbing the sensitive spot on his collarbone.

_-_-_-_

Quick Tip - Bondage and toys are also okay with Albedo as long as its for ‘research’ purposes. Seeing his expressions when he’s overstimulated would be all the more better :3

Childe would never willingly submit himself to you, never willingly let himself be submissive when it comes to sex or… anything. As you know, he is a very competitive man, so its easier if you trick him into it. Its consensual of course, Childe would never back down to a challenge, so who’s to say you can’t win for once?

Tell him you’ll be the one fucking him when you get back home.

He will laugh and tell you he’d like to see you try, the smirk on his face telling you he plans to be the one pumping into you all night anyways.

But you slowly drive him crazy, occasionally brushing your fingers along his hip, up his thighs, ‘accidentally’ on his chest. Until his hard member is throbbing and needy, and he is easy to catch off guard when you make it back home.

He puts his stuff away, changing out of his dirty clothes. But you are prepared when he comes out in his boxers, the rope on his pull up bar undetected by him.

Yes, Childe has a pull up bar on his door, I swear thats canon-

Anyways, as he slowly paces towards you, lustful look in his eyes, you only smirk back. And its when you’ve pulled his hands into the waiting knot and pull the other two ends to secure the bindings, thats when he realizes he’s screwed up.

‘And yes I know Childe could probably break the pull up bar if he wanted to- shush shush.’

“Oh Childe… eating up your words now arent you?”

Tease him.

Degrade him and show him that you are in charge. That you are always in charge, that if you wanted, you could do anything to him. He is at your complete and utter mercy, and he can’t do anything about it.

Look him dead in the eye as the confidence fades from his face. As he can only acknowledge one thing, one thing only.

You’ve won.

_-_-_-_

“You’re holding up pretty well,” your fingers trailed alongside the side of his face, scanning his features. “Pretty determined arent we? Don’t worry, I’ll fix that up for you quick.”

“Go ahead and try,” was his only answer.

Your fingers gripped his dick firmly, positioning it over your pussy. “Oh I plan to,” you whispered sweetly in a promise. “I can’t wait to see you begging for me, your needy little dick at my complete and utter disposal.”

Before he could answer, you thrust your hips to meet his length, biting your bottom lip slightly. He was big, and a grunt left his lips as he thrust his dick up into your entrance. With a gasp, you grabbed his sides, pushing his ass into the door and flashing him a nasty stare.

“Don’t even try.”

With your hands restraining his body against the wooden door, he was left to deal with your terribly slow pace. As you slowly pumped his member in and out of your pussy, a torturous tempo that even had you yearning for more.

His face was worth it.

“Go faster…” he managed to get through his teeth, “You’re so damn slow-”

You pulled away from his member, letting it hang loose and dripping. Your hand still gripped it though, and with a long prolonged sigh, you looked up to give him a stern face. “Say that again and I’ll make sure you’ll stay stuck tied to the door, helpless and needy like the little whore you are.”

At this, his face scrunched in anger as he tried to pull away from the pull up bar. You pushed a hand to his chest, shoving him back into the door. Of course he wasnt used to being degraded and toyed around like this, but in his position, he needed to learn his place.

“So? What’ll it be?”

Stroking the tip of his cock hard in your hand, you watched as his resistance came to crumble, slow until you rubbed up and down his length. He closed his eyes ever so slightly, a whimper escaping his lips as he threw his head back against the door. You took a step closer, positioning his member right at the entrance of your pussy. You rubbed the tip of it against your clit, letting out a little whine out yourself.

“Fine…” you heard him mumble. “Please… Y/n, fuck me.”

You slowly pulled his cock closer against your hole, till only the tip was inside. “Louder.”

His eyes flashed open to give you a harsh glare, but nevertheless he had no choice but to beg. “Please,” he began, jerking when you pulled his cock into your pussy. So far that he hit his head against the wall in an act to hide his moan. “Oh god Y/n… just like that.” A whimper escaped his lips when you pumped in and out of him. “Dont stop… oh d-dont stop… fuck me… please.”

The slick sounds of squelches and Childe’s ass hitting the door filled the room. “Look at you,” you cooed, rubbing his cheek with your thumb as you looked at his half slitted eyes. “Looking so obedient now arent you? Who knew you were such a good little slut.”

Childe only mewled in response, knees threatening to give in as you thrust into his dick at a quicker pace. His thighs and legs were all but ready to give out, and it was the restraints on his wrists tying him to the pull up bar that kept him upright.

It wasnt till he was overstimulated and barely hanging onto the threads of consciousness when you spoke to him again. Untying the rope on the pull up bar and pulling him against you to bring him into the shower.

“Now now,” was what you whispered into his ear. “I want to hear it from you, who won?”

Your fingers treaded through his hair as he only managed to mumble back, “You.”

_-_-_-_

Quick Tip - Run. I’m not kidding, morning comes and Childe awakens with his strength back? Bro, get outta there before the mf decides to take revenge-

Kazuha is poetic and takes a gentle approach to intimacy with you. Straight out telling him you want to be in control might throw him off a bit, so its best to lure him into it. Kiss him and whisper loving words into his ear. Have him lose himself in your lips, your words, and he wont notice how you’re not not wearing clothing, and now you’re pegging him in the ass.

Like Diluc, Kazuha wants to be praised, hearing your loving words in his ear. He’s usually the poetic one, so how come you’re the one being so romantic and cute?

Whisper the haiku he read to you yesterday, and he’ll be down and ready for whatever you want.

Overall, Kazuha probably wont mind if you’re dominant in your sex life, considering that he just wants to be loved, and that the intercourse is something intimate between the two of you. Special.

“O-oh… that feels nice…”

Be aware that Kazuha has slightly heightened senses with smell and hearing, and has a general sensitivity along with his senses. So yes, he will moan a lot. Be prepared to hear his usual calm collected voice squeaking and whimpering which each thrust of your hips.

Take advantage of that, touch him, talk to him. Don’t be harsh with Kazuha though- no degradation, teasing is acceptable, but poetic verses and loving words will be his favourite.

_-_-_-_

Your hands were gentle against his hips, lifting his ass up and spreading his legs at just the right angle. Beneath you, he squirmed just a tad bit, face buried into the bedsheets as his stomach faced the bed, unable to look at you.

“You’re doing so good,” you whispered, your hands at his hips leading to his ass. You softly rubbed the flesh, squishing it in your hands and molding it to expose his needy little hole. He only mumbled something against the white silken sheets, muffled.

You drew your fingers up to your mouth, sucking on them to leave them slick and wet. Tender as you rubbed them against his hole, you slipped them in, slowly pumping in just to stretch him out. Under you, he began to clench the sheets, whimpering something and calling out your name.

Your harness was already tied around your hips and ass, ready as you positioned yourself over him, doggy style.

He jolted when even just the tip touched his tight little hole. You could see his hands shaking, face buried deeper into the mattress. You gently put a hand over his shaking one, pressing a kiss on the back of his neck. “Do you remember that Haiku you wrote me the other day?” You asked him, hoping to distract him for just a moment.

“Y-yeah…” he mumbled back, and you slowly slid the strap on farther down his ass. You felt him shiver against you, thighs trembling at the unknown feeling.

Stretching him out farther, he moaned when you got halfway through. “Mhm, me too.” Your thumb gently stroked the backside of his hand as he quivered beneath you. “It went something like this I think…” You slowly slid the strap on father down. “Sun and moon rejoice…”

He gasped, whining as you eventually did manage to shove it down his ass. His tight hole clenched at the unknown feeling, pleasurable waves rolling back at him.

“Birds of dawn sing songs anew,” you continued, beginning to thrust in and out at a gentle pace. You wished you could see the expressions he was making, the flushed look or the pleasurable one. You could imagine his eyes rolled back as he moaned into your thrusts.

You sped up.

He now tried to meet his ass along with your thrusts, trying to reach deeper and deeper until this unknown knot building up inside him would untie itself. It was uncomfortable, but it felt so good at the same time. Your words sent shivers down his spine.

“Far from home,” you stated at last. “With you.”

Kazuha hummed, clenching his bottom lip to swallow down the moans and whines. “You remembered,” was all he managed to mumble. Half pleasured, half in awe.

“Of course I did.”

Somehow, that made it all the more intimate, and Kazuha wished he could completely give himself to you. He loved you with all his heart, especially with how you made him feel so warm. So full, so happy.

You thrust faster, hands slowly drifting back to his hips so you could thrust his ass into the strap on. You could tell he was coming close with the volume of his moans, thighs shaking and hands raking up and down the beside.

“Y/n…” he cried. “Y-Y/n-”

_-_-_-_

Quick Tip - Kazuha can be really loud during sex, so make sure that if you’re anywhere public, or on the Crux, to somehow keep it on the quiet side- last thing you want is a grumpy Beidou. “I cOuld heAr yOu hOrny sHits all niGht.”

Venti is quite literally a bottom. Theres really not much convincing you have to do when it comes to actually getting him down on the bed and being in control. Actually, I have a feeling it would take more convincing to get him to be in control, mainly because he likes to be on the receiving end.

When it comes to Venti, despite his delicate small form, you can easily be rough with him. Degrade him and show him that compared to you, he’s nothing. All that Barbatos shit is nothing compared to you, your hand on his neck choking out all his noises and thrusting his dick into you.

Tie him up.

Or rather, do anything you’d like to him. Venti is by no means fragile. He wants you to be rough with him, push him till he thinks he’s gonna break.

But you’re gonna have to have some hella nice aftercare prepared afterwards.

“Worship me, your god.”

“Worship you? You are nothing but my slut in bed, now get down on your knees and ‘beg.’”

Overstimulate him. Make him keep count everytime he orgasms until he can’t remember anymore.

“How many times now…?”

“Too much… too m-much-”

Make him cry and cling onto you if you were his lifeline. Because you’re the only thing he can hold onto when you’re shoving his hips inside your pussy. You’re everything to him, he needs you.

It doesn’t take too long for Venti to actually submit himself fully to you, babbling incomprehensible words. Crying out your name, begging for you and agreeing with anything you say.

Venti can be extremely obedient.

_-_-_-_

You were enjoying the view.

Leaning back into the cushioned wooden chair, legs spread and wide as the smaller boy sat on your lap. He squirmed, hands tied in scratchy rope that kept his hands unavailable to him, leaving him bare and vulnerable to you. His chest was puffed out, nipples bright red as if begging to be sucked.

“Hurry up now,” you began, your unwavering eyes boring into his wide ones. “You were so confident before as well werent you? Telling me to worship you, Barbatos.” You just barely skimmed the skin of his back, up his neck and clenching the locks of hair. Pulling his hair back to get the full glory of his face, obedient for you. “All I see in front of me is a little slut.”

He grinds his throbbing member against you, needy while his lustful eyes peer at you through lidded lashes. “P-please…”

“Please what? Speak up.”

He fidgeted with his restrained hands, flashing a pouty look your way to see if it’d draw a reaction. It didnt. “Put my cock in your pussy,” he instead whimpered, moving his hips closer to your entrance.

You just leaned deeper against the chair, waving your hand to the side as if bored. “You want to bury your dick in my cunt? Go do it yourself then.” He glanced up, pleading eyes as he again pulled at the restraints on his arms. “Go on, I’m waiting.”

Whimpering, he tried to push his hips into you, his cock missing slightly and just pushing against your thighs. He felt so hot, the contrast of the cold air that tingled against his bare skin. His length throbbed and his chest pounded, your little touches igniting fireworks across his skin. “I ca-cant…” he sniffled, again thrusting his hips only to be meant with your thighs.

You stayed quiet.

Your stare only made his member harder, and he was now lost in the sensation of rutting his hips into your thighs. The stimulation felt good, but not good enough to get him off. No, he wanted your pussy, your calloused hands roughly holding his hips while you drove him into you. The need drove tears to his eyes, thighs shaking with anticipation as he continued pumping feverishly against you.

“You really cant do anything without me can you?” Was your harsh reply, hand positioning his cock right in front of your entrance. Venti only mewled in response, cut off by the sharp motion of your hands on his ass thrusting into your entrance. He was now panting, head leaning against your shoulder for support as you pumped him in and out relentlessly.

“Y/n!! Its.. mm, so g-good.”

“As it should be, your dick belongs to me.”

And he just nodded, letting you take full control of the pace as he laid there and moaned. He couldn’t even manage to push his hips along with your hands to chase his release. Just submitting all sensation to you and the feeling of your walls clenching around his length.

_-_-_-_

Quick Tip - Make him worship you, sit down on the chair and tell him to suck all your juices dry. Degrade and tell him he’s lucky to get any taste.

Zhongli is pretty open when it comes to trying new things when it comes too sex, considering that with how long he’s lived, its probably nothing new. Nevertheless, the best way to convince Zhongli to go along with whatever you’re saying is just telling him, “Let me make you feel good love.”

Zhongli won’t be fazed by what you decide to do, no matter how kinky or odd it might be, he has no doubt seen worse somewhere else.

You don’t have to worry about being gentle with him, and he won’t really be fazed if you decide to degrade him. Of course, it doesnt turn him on as much as whispering loving words in his ear does, but he wont object either.

Very obedient.

Zhongli knows what he’s getting into, and he never goes back on his word. He says he’ll do something? He will do it.

He’s the god of contracts after all-

“Ah… so tight, just for me?”

Touch his face.

Whether its having your hands around his neck, brushing your thumb over his soft cheeks, or giving him soft forehead kisses, he’ll love it. He wants to make eye contact with you during it, always. Even if you’re the one in control, he wants to have you in his sights as he moans out your name.

_-_-_-_

You were gentle at first.

Tightening the straps on your hips, you adjusted their positioning as you climbed on the bed. The silk sheets were soft against your knees, soft on your hands as you crawled overtop of the archon. He was laying flat on his back like you’d asked, hands resting against the sheets palms up as he stared up at you. Pensive, waiting.

You went to press a kiss to his lips, one hand at the back of his neck as you bit his bottom lip. Just like you’d asked, he didnt use either one of his hands to hold you or press you tighter against him. Just melted against the rough feel of your lips against his. When you were done, you lifted yourself up to get a good look at him, satisfied with his swollen lips and breathless gasps. You held your fingers to his mouth.

“Suck.”

He was compliant, taking your digits and swirling his tongue around in expertise. Coating them in a slick layer of wetness as you pull them out. You get more of a reaction out of him when you press your fingers against his hole, slowly sliding them in.

“Good, just like that.”

You delved in the sight of your fingers disappearing into the clenched hole of his ass. Sucking them in greedily and making a ‘pop’ when you pulled them out.

Taking a deep breath in, he hums into the sensation of your fingers slowly filling his ass. He isn’t impatient, instead letting you take slow torturous thrusts of your fingers in and out without complaint.

It all changes when you pull them out and align the tip of the silicon strap on to his hole.

Because you were being nice earlier, coaxing him with your gentle touches and peppering him with kisses. You knew he expected you to be kind, to handle him with care with each thrust. To say that you loved him and him to say the same.

Nothing wrong with surprises.

It must’ve been a nice surprise by the looks of it, because when you fully sheathed the strap on into his ass in one stroke, his back arched, a moan escaping his lips as he now clenched the sheets. Eyes wide and mouth wide and panting, you thrust in and out without mercy, watching the strap on disappear deeply into his ass before you pulled it all out and slammed it back into him. A pattern that had his eyes rolling back and mindless sounds escaping his lips.

Your hands, gripping both sides of his thighs, propped them up on either of your shoulder. Zhongli through his dazed eyes managed to give you one confused look before you pumped the strap on right back, and the angle had him crying out your name feverishly as he curled his toes. His walls clenched tightly around the silicon, the strap on reaching so far in his ass that all he could do was moan and cry for more.

“So pretty,” you commented, another hand stroking his hard neglected member. “Just for me.”

_-_-_-_

Quick Tip - For someone new or someone who hasnt actually dominated anyone in bed before, Zhongli is a perfect first option. Will provide no judgement at all, and might actually help you out if you get nervous.

Dainsleif prefers to be in control, to have full superiority when fucking you. He doesn’t see any reason for you to suddenly act like the boss, after all he respects you and would never do anything to hurt you. However, if you give him a reason to force him into submission, he’ll put up a fight, but will eventually sink down for you.

Tease him.

Dominating Dainsleif is a one time thing, which means you have to take advantage of it with all you can. Drink in all of his expressions because believe me when I say you wont see them anywhere else.

Tell him this is ‘punishment.’

When he asks what he did, don’t answer. Just grab the hems of his jacket and throw him on the bed. Strip him bare and tell him that you could list all the things he did, but you want him to think about it instead.

And he does.

He’s always the one coming home to tell you he needs a good little fuck after work. And then you’re laying on the bed while he takes out his frustrations, and you know he doesnt mean to hurt you but-

“Say it again.”

“I’m… I’m s-sorry Y/n. Please do-dont touch… mm, don’t touch m-me there- ah!!!”

“Again.”

So you do the same with him, and he lays there and takes it like a good boy. Because he deserves the punishment, at least you’ve told him that much.

Degrade him.

Overstimulate him and don’t let him orgasm, keep edging him on like Kaeya and don't allow him to have even an ounce of the release he’s craving for. After all, this is punishment, you arent giving him any rewards.

Stroke him and bring him to his orgasm, only to pull away.

And while you edge him, whisper dirty little things in his ear. Of what you would’ve done if he wasn't being punished, how you wouldve made him feel so good. Till he was crying your name nonstop, till he couldn't walk the next morning.

Oof, better luck next time Dainsleif.

_-_-_-_

His hips bucked feverishly against your hand, the slick juices covering his dick making a squelching noise every time your palm slid up and down his length.

Dainsleif was panting, hands tied behind his back and knees tied to the bedposts as he laid there in all his vulnerability, His legs were spread wide and exposed, wet with precum just for you.

“Y/n… please…”

You weren't sure how many times you’d heard that sentence tonight, certainly too many. And even if it was his nth time that he’d reached his climax and you didn't let him orgasm, it didn't matter. This was punishment, he wasn't supposed to like it, he was supposed to lay there and take it.

“Shut up you slut, if I want to let your pathetic little cock cum, I’ll let you.” Your thumb rubbed the tip, eliciting a gasp from him. “And if I don’t, you’ll just have to put your big boy pants on and deal with it.”

You lowered your head till your face was in line with his growing erection. As if he could sense your plans, he twitched in your grip, groaning in want, in ‘need.’ Slowly, you pressed a kiss to the tip, letting him know exactly what you planned to do.

He squeaked out in shock, or rather, as high of a squeak as he could manage. His voice was still rather deep afterall.

“If I wasnt punishing you… maybe this wouldve been my pussy instead.”

But you didn’t stop, opening up your lips to slowly suck the head of his dick. Your other two hands strokes his sides, groping and feeling around his hard length.

“If you d-do it like that… I’ll… I’ll…”

Your mouth widened to swallow more of his dick, tongue swirling around the tip as you sunk deeper into his hips. He squirmed, legs trying to thrash around but held by the restraints on his knees. Moans and whispers escaped his lips as he tried to move his arms to no avail. He was coming close, he could feel the sensation grow from the pit of his stomach, member tingling and warm as you sucked him in.

He was so close… almost there… just a little more and-

You pulled away.

Licking your lips, your hand wiped away any stray liquid on your face.

“If I wasnt punishing you,” you began mockingly. “Maybe I would’ve let you cum.”

And Dainsleif was left to simply hit his head against the sheets, a groan of frustration escaping his lips as his throbbing member pulsed with need.

_-_-_-_

Quick Tip - Blindfold him. He won’t know when or what you plan to do, and that makes it all the more arousing.

Scaramouche would never in hell allow you to top him, or anyone else for that matter. He is always in control, he is always thrusting into you as you sob for him, beg for him. Until he’s not. With Scaramouche, its simpler than you think, but it does involve the fact that you need to be strong. Physically, because Scaramouche without his hat and vision is basically useless :’)

Make him earn it.

Stay away from the short boy for a long time, tease him when you see him, and deny him any release when he wants to fuck you. He came back home from a tough day at work and wants to fuck you silly? You’re not there. He feels horny one night and tries to find you? Make yourself disappear.

He’ll grow needy.

And here ladies and gentleman, is where you strike. Because poor little Scaramouche needs you so much that he might even be willing to bow down and follow any of your commands so long as he gets a release.

And you better damn well take advantage of that.

Make him go on his two very own knees, make him ‘earn it.’ Earn the right to have you pleasure him.

“Lick my juices until thats the only thing you can taste, the only thing you’ll want to taste.”

“Yes… maam…”

“Louder.”

“Yes maam.”

“I said louder you whore.”

Degrade him, make him feel like nothing compared to you. Because just for this once, this moment, you can.

Convince him that he is nothing without you, that he needs you to survive.

And then after that, grab his hips and thrust his dick into you. Until he lost count of how many times he’s came. Till he’s hanging onto his consciousness by a thread and is fucked silly by you.

_-_-_-_

“Fucking slut.”

You leaned into the chair, watching as Scaramouche thrust into you again and again with the help of your two hands on his hips. Eyes dazed and clouded, he could no longer focus on the details. He didn’t notice how you degraded him, how it was basically you that guided his cock in and out of your pussy.

But he was gone, far too gone. Sensations around his body sent him on a rollercoaster, and his dick felt numb, the slightest tingle of heat climbing up his chest. He felt good, that was all that mattered in him dumbed up state.

Your hand came to caress the skin of cheek, a sickening laugh erupting from your lips as you focused on the way he stared at you. “I fucked you dumb didnt I?” You cooed, never stopping the motion of your other hand guiding him in and out of your pussy. “Fucked you so good that you cant even talk.”

He just hummed in response, lips breaking off into a moan.

“Good,” you whispered to him, pulling his head closer to rest against your shoulder. “Such a good boy for me.”

And then your hands were on his neck, squeezing slightly to alter the pitch of his moans as you lead his face down to yours. Till you pressed a kiss to his gentle lips, a once in a lifetime opportunity where you could take control of the kiss, of him. Licking his bottom lip and sliding your tongue in to rub against his. Lips parting to kiss, his dumbed out whimpers a musical melody in tune with the pace of your hands dragging his dick in and out of your overstimulated cunt.

_-_-_-_

Quick Tip - Uhm…? Run? Similarly to Childe, Scaramouche aint gonna react positively in the morning. Might discard your body for seeing him in that state. Jeez… what's up with the harbingers….

_-_-_-_

On a side note… after writing this, I kinda feel like I’ve discovered I have a choking kink… ;-;

3K notes · View notes

rommahh · 3 years ago

Text

I Carry Your Heart

Harry Styles x Reader

Word Count: 4k

{Ahhhh ok so this is my first work like ever. There will definitely be a second part because ive got more to say and it needs a second part. I hope whoever sees and reads this imagine enjoys it. I appreciate comments, likes, reblogs, ideas on what could go into the story, and any form of help and redirection as to how i should write things. Much love, R.}.

Part two

All Y/N wanted tonight was to hang out with her boyfriend, eat a mass amount of junk food, and watch a marvel movie or two. That was all she wanted and that was all she asked of her boyfriend. Instead of any of that happening, she found herself sitting on the nasty kitchen island of her boyfriend's frat at a party that she was trying to avoid going to.

This party was supposedly ‘the party of the year.’ The last rager before finals and then christmas break. Y/N had spent the whole week studying and finishing up end of semester projects hence the want for a chill night. When Harry came to her saying his frat was throwing a party tonight and that he just HAD to be here, Y/N didn't feel like she had a choice but to let him go. She came because she thought this would be the only time she would be able to have some time with Harry after a long week of barely seeing each other. With two vastly different majors, the couple wasnt able to find a lot of time in the middle of school work to make time for just the two of them. Obviously her hopes of quality time with her man were futile because here she was sitting by herself in the kitchen of the frat while Harry drank and got high with his friends in other parts of the house.

Of course she was disappointed. She felt a knot in her throat and a weight on her chest just sitting there in that kitchen. Her white claw was warm now- not that it was any cold when she opened it. She was starting to form a small headache from the too loud music and the ache in her heart was growing.

She stood from the countertop on the search for her boyfriend, hoping he wasn't too far gone from sober. Wiping the back of her jeans from anything that was left on the island, she began walking around the house. She doesn't remember the last time the two of them spent time together by themselves. Of course they occasionally ate dinner together in the dining hall but they were normally surrounded by friends. Y/N wanted to be alone with her boyfriend to talk and bask in his presence.

After pushing through groups of partying humans, she found Harry and at least ten other people sitting around playing some sort of drinking game.

“Y/N! Where have you been?” Luca, one of Harry's frat brothers yelled out to her from the circle. Luca was cool, he was one of the only tolerable boys in this frat aside from Harry. Hearing his girlfriend's name, Harry turned around from where he sat on the ground and reached out for his girlfriend to sit beside him. Much to Y/N’s dismay, Harry was wasted. His eyes were half mass and his words bumped and slurred together. “We are playing truth or dare, wanna play?” Luca asked.

“I don't wanna play but Ill sit and watch.” Sitting next to her boyfriend, she grabbed one of his hands holding it in her lap. She was annoyed at him but it did her no good to show it when he was this drunk.

This game of truth or dare was childish. Dares of licking people's shoes and taking multiple shots had been done and truths about money and relationships were being spilled among the group. It had finally become Harry’s turn to do something, making Y/N tense.

“Ok Harry, I dare you to…” One drunk frat boy started looking around the room trying to come up with something clever. His eyes landed on a pretty girl in the room, Yara, a stuck up girl who for sure got her way no matter what. “I dare you to kiss the hottest girl in the room- obviously not your girlfriend because that defeats the purpose.” The frat boy smirked knowing what his intentions were. Everyone in the group giggles and gasped shocked by the dare but ready to see what was going to go down. Y/N’s brows furrowed as she became angry with the stupid dare.

The ache in her chest seemed to tip over the edge when she felt her boyfriend in the room move to stand up. She grabbed at the bottom of his shirt as a way of stopping him. Harry halted his movements to look down at his girlfriend. He giggled a little.

“You’re not actually going to do this right?” She asked Harry with wide eyes of shock. Harry laughed at her like she made a joke, making her heart hurt even more.”Harry I do not want you to do this just take the shot and lose the dare.” Her tone held warning.

“Don't be silly of course I'm going to. It's just a dare, nothing serious. Don't be so clingy.” He stood walking over to Yara and planted a wet kiss on her mouth. Yara gripped Harry’s shirt and kissed him harder. The kiss went on for a few more seconds, the room absolutely silent out of shock. Harry stepped back from Yara slightly sobering up from his actions. Yara smirked at Y/N, hand gliding down the front of Harry's shirt.

Y/N stood from the seat she was in and scoffed. Scoffed because she should've known Harry would do something like this. Scoffed because it hurt to see her boyfriend do something so careless without any regard for his girl's feelings. She pulled herself together, feeling her throat tighten once again. She was quick to leave the room and down the hall of the frat.

Harry's clumsy steps could be heard from behind her as he mumbled her name. Or at least he tried to. He was still so out of it, his words not making much sense. Y/N was crying now, the strength that she had slowly dissolving as she walked further away from her boyfriend.

“Y/N wait. P-please wait. I cant-” Harry stumbled over his legs behind her falling into the grass of the front yard. The girl couldn't help but turn around looking at her stupid boyfriend. She was choking on sobs now. She wasn't crying over a measly little kiss but over an extreme amount of burnout from school and exhaustion from simply existing. She was crying because her boyfriend ignored her boundaries, crushing and erasing the boundaries she had set in their relationship. Harry tried reaching for her once she had stopped walking. His hand clasped around her wrist, he laid his head down on her shoulder. He hated seeing her cry even if he was too drunk to see why.

“Baby don't leave, Im-Im Sorry.” He hiccuped and burped due to the alcohol. Y/N felt her rage build. Shoving Harry off of her, she crossed her arms across her chest as a way to shield herself from Harry physically. He was hurt by her distance and the wall she put up around her.

“You're an idiot Harry. An idiot!” her sobs grew louder, some stray party goers watching in amusement- some even snapchatting it for shits and giggles. “I didnt want you to kiss her and you did. What provoked you to think that was ok? All I wanted was for us to hang out tonight and just be us and you did this!” She was yelling now. Her hurt is beyond her now. Anger and rage simmered throughout her body making her head dizzy and her fingers curl within themselves. She didnt like being angry. It wasn't an emotion she liked acting on, it felt impersonal.

“Baby I don't under-” Before Harry could finish his sentence he was barfing at his feet. Y/N stepped back disgusted with her boyfriend. She couldn't even feel remorseful because of how angry she was. Luca, the frat brother from earlier, caught up with Harry and his girl only to find Harry doubled over heaving. Luca wrapped his arms around Harry's shoulders.

“I'm sorry Luca but I can't do this tonight. Can you please make sure he gets some water and goes to bed. I-I can't do it tonight, I wish I could but I can't.” Y/N didn't want to leave her boyfriend in this state but she didn't deserve this. She wasn't going to care for her drunk boyfriend when all she wanted to do was care for herself. Selfishly, she enjoyed seeing him this way because of the anger he caused her.

Luca shook his head in understandment. “Of course, I'm really sorry for tonight. He's going to seriously regret this in the morning, especially since it will be circulating all over snapchat in the morning.” Luca waved to Y/N then proceeded to pull Harry into the house. Harry called out for Y/N not wanting to be away from her but Luca pulled him harder.

Harry woke up the next morning feeling like the bottom of a dumpster. He wasn't shocked by that. He knew he got trashed last night, he had planned to. He, just like Y/N, spent all week studying and completing projects while also fulfilling certain responsibilities for his frat. He wanted one night to be a normal teen. So he drank and drank and drank and maybe even smoked some weed. As he tried to recall last night's events he came up with nothing. He didn't understand why Y/N wasn't here with him like she normally would after a party on the weekend. They were normally always together during the weekend. A bad feeling loomed over him. He could tell something wasn't right but decided to put his feelings to the side.

He saw a bottle of water beside his bed making him think she was probably here and left early. Chugging the water he started to go through his socials to see if anyone had posted about the party. He had multiple tagged pics and videos in his notifications from snapchat. Way more than he normally would.

The first video he saw was a video of him and Y/N standing in the front yard of the frat house. Turning the volume all the way up he could hear Y/N yelling, it shocked him. She doesn't normally raise her voice, especially not at him. The angle changed showing her face which was red with anger, eyes filled with unshed tears. He could hear her yelling about him kissing someone else. He felt his heart stop. He had kissed someone else? On the next snap was a picture of him keeled over vomiting on his shoes with the caption saying, ‘are yall seeing this shit?’ Harry was embarrassed but he was more concerned than anything.

His head was hurting but it didn't stop him from rolling out of bed, washing up, and putting on a fresh set of clothes. He checked his phone hoping Y/N had messaged him but nothing was there. He walked into the kitchen only to see luca sitting at the counter eating cereal.

“Hey Harry….” Luca said warily. Luca pushed the cereal around his bowl feeling the tension begin to rise in the room. He felt horrible about his friends.

“Luca...what's up?” Harry was confused by Lucas' wariness.

“So do you remember anything about last night?” Luca asked, setting his cereal down in the sink behind him. Harry started playing with the frayed edges of a bracelet Y/N made for him. It had little beads with her name on it. They made them together at an event on campus.

“I don't, I only saw the videos of Y/N screaming at me. I think I fucked up but I- I don't know what happened.” Harry's cheek flushed with even more embarrassment. Luca awkwardly chuckled scratching the back of his neck.

“You got dared to kiss the hottest girl in the room and um actually did it in front of Y/N...even though she didn't want you to. Which led you guys outside and yeah you know the rest...Im sorry dude, I wish I had stopped you.”

“Who- who did I kiss?” Harrys stomach lurched when he heard Yara’s name come out of Lucas' name. Y/N didn't like Yara and it was understandable. Yara has been pining after Harry since their first year of college. Harry couldn't breathe. He felt disgusted with himself. He could only imagine how Y/N was feeling.

Y/N woke up the same morning, eyes puffy and crusty from tears and head hurting. She probably cried herself into dehydration. She was lucky enough to have no roommate because she wouldn't have wanted someone else to see her breakdown. She still couldn't believe last night went down the way it went down. She couldn't tell if she was just being overdramatic or if her emotions were in the right place. She didn't want to be mad at Harry. He was everything to her, she had an odd connection to him. Meeting him during their freshman welcome week they quickly became best friends with a growing romantic connection in the mix. They started dating before Christmas break. They had grown close so fast that he even came home with her to meet her family for the first few days of break. Even though they were in their junior year of college, Y/N could see them beyond college. She's imagined them getting married, travelling, sharing a home. She saw the whole future with him. She had her doubts though. He was immature just like every other boy in college. He was dumb with his actions and tended to only do things if they benefited him. He had a lot of growing to do as a person, so did she but she wanted to grow with him.

She heard a knock on her door hesitating to answer it because one, it could be Harry, and two, she looked like a wreck. Answering anyways, she was met with a very sorry looking Harry holding a small coffee and bagel from their cafe.

“Hi baby…” He sheepishly said holding out the items. She silently let him through the door not once looking him in the eye. He stepped into her room, setting her treats on her desk. He could see that her bed was messy meaning she recently woke up. Y/N never went about her day without making her bed. He turned back to her and finally their eyes met. He took in all of her facial features, from her puffy eyes, to her downturned lips that looked chapped, to her flushed cheeks that longed to be held for warmth. He hated to see her like this, the last time he saw her so upset was when her parents moved out of her childhood home. It took alot to make Y/N this upset. She was normally really headstrong and vigilant. She knew how to ease her way out of problematic situations and could talk her way through anything.

Harry opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by Y/N holding her hand up in front of his face. “Don't talk. I'm really hurt Harry, so if your plan was to come over here and apologize over bagels- think again.” She snapped, backing up to put space between the two of them. She sat down on her bed while Harry pulled the desk chair out and sat down. He much preferred to be on the bed with her holding her tight but he didn't want to overstep boundaries.

“Love, I don't know where to begin. I'm really sorry for what happened last night. I was really drunk and obviously wasn't in the right headspace.” Harry reached out and touched the tips of her fingers with his. She wanted to move but it felt good to be touched by Harry.

“I told you that a measly little apology won't do Harry. I didn't want you to kiss Yara and you did anyway. You know how Yara feels about you and you just let it happen!” She pulled her hand away remembering the prior night's events. Harry felt himself getting angry too. He felt like he needed to defend himself- even though it would be a very bad idea.

“I think you're being over dramatic.” Wrong move Harry. “It wasn't like I was making out with her!”

“You're joking right?” She scoffed and scooted further up her bed to create more distance. “Harry it's the simple fact that you did something that made me uncomfortable that shouldn't have even happened. I see myself getting married to you and it makes me worry that right now in our relationship you can't respect my boundaries!” She yelled. Harry’s eyes widened as he laughed sarcastically.

“Married? What the fuck are you on about? I'm a junior in college. In what world would it make sense for me to be prepping a relationship for marriage? Once again I think you're being over dramatic.” Her eyes watered hearing Harry's statement.

“I- I guess I'm the only one in this relationship thinking about the future? I thought we were on the same page. I'm not planning our marriage now, obviously. I'm thinking about how elements of our relationship now could play out in the future when we do want to get married. You cheated on me last night. I went to a party you begged ME to go to only to be there for you. I wanted to be here cuddling with you, pigging out on fast food but I was at a party with you and got cheated on!” Her volume rises once again, making Harry shove his chair from underneath him when he stands up.

“You're doing too much right now. I'm not planning a future right now because I don't want this future! I want to be myself without thinking about how to appease my girlfriend. I invited you to the party so you could lighten the fuck up. I love you, I do, but I'm not thinking of marriage and futures. I'm thinking about my life right now and having fun.” Harry snapped right back at her. Her chin wobbled. Obviously her and Harry were on different pages. It hurt so much to hear him say that he didn't want a future with her. Harry didn't mean it though.

“Ok, well I guess that's my fault for assuming we were thinking along the same lines. Um, I don't want to hold you back from being yourself so with that being said, you are a free man Harry.” She pushed herself up from her bed walking to the door ready to escort Harry out.

“Huh? Love, what?” Harry was confused on how they got to this point. Just a few days ago they were in love, meeting in the library to share a lunch and exchanging sweet words determined by their love.

“Listen I have a day full of exams tomorrow so if you could just leave that would be best. You don't really want this so I'm letting you go, Harry.” She had tears rolling down her face, falling from her eyes down to her chin where they fell to the ground in droplets. Harry’s eyes welled up watching his love cry before him.

“I don't-”

“Harry, leave, please.” She opened the door making room for him to go through. He walked through the door turning to look at her. She turned her face away from him whispering a small goodbye before shutting the door. Harry was left in the silent hallway, so silent he could hear his thoughts and the tears hitting the tile floor beneath him. He thinks he stood there for at least thirty more minutes before accepting what had happened and walking away.

Leaving Y/N in her room sobbing like she had never done before. Her tears coated her face and she thought her head could explode right then and there. She didn't want to accept what had happened but she had priorities. She composed herself enough to start studying for her exams.

The week rolled by quickly, Monday meeting Friday in a flash. Exams were done and Christmas break was on the horizon. Students were piling off of campus in a hurry ready to get home to their loved ones. People were outside by cars loading up their winter necessaries and saying their goodbyes to their close friends.

Harry cried everyday this week. He wasn't normally a crier. He hated crying, he hated the feeling of crying and the headache that came from it. He cried because he realized how wrong he was. He missed Y/N. He missed finals week dinner together where they tried to get off campus at least once and be alone for a moment. He missed watching her relax while eating food that wasn't from their school's cafeteria. He would pay for their meal just so she could have one less thing to worry about. They would normally get frozen yogurt right after too, Y/N getting as many toppings as she wanted because Harry would be the one paying. He missed her tight after exam hugs. She would squeeze his shoulders tight, smiling into his neck, telling him how proud she was of him. She would bring him tea in the morning when they met for breakfast. Sometimes they would spend the night in one or the others room so they could have time together to destress and just talk.

Y/N wasn't doing any better. She normally went into exam week feeling confident. She studied too hard not to. But this week she felt like shit. Her heart hurt and she kept thinking about the fight. She feels like she overreacted but hearing Harry talk about their lack of a future hurt nonetheless. She really assumed that they did have a future that included marriage and a life together. She didn't understand where his sudden lack of commitment came from. She regretted dumping him but at the same time she wished he did more to get them back together but he was silent. He hasn't contacted her at all and avoided all of their spots on campus all together.

She stood by her car prepping for her six hours car ride back home. Packing away her clothes and some essentials in the trunk of her car, she heard light footsteps behind her. Closing her trunk she turned to see Harry standing with his hands in his pockets.

“Hi.” He said. She looked at him, putting her own hands in her pockets. It was cold outside, the nippy air hinting at a possibility of snow.

“Hi Harry.” They shared a moment of silence together. Just staring at each other. It felt good to be near each other again. They felt like they could breathe again.

“I had to see you before you left. I know the break is only a month but I didn't want to leave without seeing you.” He replied quietly. She made him feel so shy. Her beauty always made him awestruck. Even in a hoodie with their college's logo and some large sweatpants and some fuzzy crocs, she was the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

“I don't know what to say harry.”

“It's ok. I don't deserve anything from you after what I said. I just wanted to apologize and wish you a good break before you left. I also wanted to give you this.” He pulled a small box and envelope out of the front pocket of his backpack. “I know we agreed on no presents but I think thats a dumb rule and I love you too much to not get you something.” She smiled at his words, taking the gift from his hands.

“Thank you Harry, it means a lot to me. So what are your plans for a break?” She asked him, the tension that was in the air slowly dissipating.

“I couldn't get a flight home until next wednesday so i'll stay here on campus until then.” He shrugged.

“Oh ok. Well tell Anne I said hi. I have to go Harry but I'll see you after the break, ok?” She didn't want to leave him but she didn't want to drive through the dark.

“Ok, love. Drive safe. I lov- I mean have a good break.” Her chest tightened at his hesitation. She wants to hear him say the words but she knows he won't.

“Have a good break Harry.” She whispered. Before getting in her car she stood on her toes placing a kiss on the corner of his mouth. Rubbing her thumb across his cheek and turning away and into her car.

She drove away knowing that her heart was left in that parking lot in the hands of someone she loves way too much.

Harry stood in the parking lot watching his heart drive away for winter wanting nothing more than to be with her.

Part two

#harry styles x reader #frat!harry #i carry your heart #harry styles fic #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles #harry styles x y/n #college!harry #part 2 coming soon #harry styles smut #fratrry #boyfriend!harry

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