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cosmic-dust-poltergeist · 3 months ago

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Pt3 of the Danny is a clone/reincarnation in the DC universe au. Danny meets an alien [pt2 here] [pt 4 here]

Danny was jittery all day, but he is trying to not cling to Cass. He'll definitely give in once Damian's friend is here, but he's determined to not give into his childish instincts before then. And he's being mostly successful!

He ignores the amused and concerned looks Cass sends him every time he forces down his instincts. He wants to stop being so codependent. He won't lie, it's been nice to let these people baby him, but he didn't use to be such an anxious wreck that can't do anything without his hand being held. It makes him hate himself at the end of the day when he only has his thoughts, so he's going to take the effort to do a little better. And this is his first baby step.

"I'm home!" Danny perks up at Tim's voice.

"Green Room!" Cass calls out, and Tim sticks his head in a moment later.

"I want to change out of my suit, but I'll be right back." Tim explains. "Damian and Jon won't be here for at least another 20 minutes, and that's only if traffic is good, which it never is, so it'll probably be closer to 30 minutes."

Danny nods, trying to swallow his rising panic. He hasn't been able to get a single word out all day. Luckily Cass can understand his body language when his hands are full and he can't write.

Cass comes and sits next to him when Tim ducks out. "You're being very brave."

[Doesn't feel like it.]

"New things are scary. Trauma makes it hard." Cass smiles sadly before switching to sign language. Danny can sign too, but he prefers his iPad.《My father was a very bad man. Trained me to be weapon only. I understood no language other than body. When I came to live here, I was scared too. I knew only to hurt, but it hurt to read pain. Had to learn how to be a person, like you are now. It's very brave to face what scares you. Like new people.》

[I still don't feel brave.] Danny fiddles with his stylus [There's too much wrong with me for normal people to be nice. I will be vivisected if people know.]

《Family will not let that happen. You're baby brother and we will fight for you til you can fight for yourself.》

Danny sniffles and manages his first word of the day. "Okay..."

Cass hugs him tightly and kisses the side of his head. "We love you. Trauma and all, baby brother."

Tim enters the room in a stolen hoody, some leggings, and house shoes at that moment. He pauses to look at them before sitting on Danny's other side, rubbing his back.

"It's not too late to tell them you changed your mind, kiddo."

[No. I need to do this. It's unhealthy to isolate yourself or hide from new experiences.] Danny gives a deep sigh. [I'm tired of being scared all the time.]

"Have you thought about going to a therapist? I don't want to push you, but I have found it really helpful." Danny knows Tim started going to a therapist about 2 weeks after Danny arrived. He can't help but wonder if Tim did that because Danny started clinging to him and Danny was too much. It makes him feel guilty, but he read enough mental health papers recently to know even if Danny is the straw that broke the camel's back, Tim was wise enough to get help.

[I'm not sure I'm ready to talk to someone about everything.]

"A good therapist will help you at your own pace." Tim tells him, "I vetted a dozen therapists, and am currently vetting another 6, so you can switch if you need to at any point. I just want you to be as happy, healthy, and safe as you can be."

Danny is thinking it over so hard that he startles into invisibility when he hears the front door open and Alfred greeting someone.

"Oh! Damn, time moved fast." Tim blinks at the doorway before turning towards Danny's invisible figure. "We can still turn them away."

Danny wills himself back into the visible spectrum. [I need to do this.]

"If you say so..." Tim's face is an odd mix of emotions; grief, sorrow, pride, and relief are all there. He calls towards the door. "Damian! We're in the green room!"

With them all sitting, Danny can't hide behind Cass or Tim, so he just buries himself into Cass's hug. A few moments later, Damian and a honey tan guy with black hair and deep sky blue eyes enter the room with a slightly nervous energy. Danny blinks at that. Damian's nervous energy is clearly over introducing them, and who-is-obviously-Jon's energy screams "Please like me! I want to be friends!". He briefly wonders if this is how siblings usually introduced friends to family. All parties scared that they won't like each other. He and Jazz didn't really have friends to introduce, so this is new territory for him.

"See?" Cass smiles at him, clearly talking about Jon's gold retriever puppy energy. Danny nods at her before shyly waving at the newcomers. Jon beams and Damian relaxes a hair.

"Hi, I'm Jon! Dami's told me a lot about you!" Danny sends Damian a confused frown. "He likes to brag about his cute new little brother."

[What is there to brag about?] Danny tilts his head. [I haven't done anything to brag about.]

"Are you kidding?" There's sadness in everyone's body language, but Jon is still smiling at him. "You sound awesome! You can read body language like Cass! And are trying to learn alien languages and history for fun! You apparently memorized every space fact you come across! You like learning in general! Trying to cover all the education you missed because your evil creators! And you want to know the coolest thing about you currently?"

Danny rapidly blinks at Jon's list, actually sitting up straighter and unintentionally pulling from Cass's hug. She lets him go easily.

[What?]

"You're letting me meet you despite your crippling anxiety." If Jon had a tail, it would be wagging hard. "No one would blame you for locking yourself away and hiding from the world after everything you've been through, but here you are! Trying to concur your fear and meeting me!"

Danny can feel himself blushing, but realizes Jon is kind of right. While he can still feel his anxiety wanting to smother him, he doesn't feel like he's drowning and needs to run away.

[I still don't see how any of that makes me "cool".]

"It's okay if you don't get it. The people who care about you do and can remind you to be nicer to yourself." Jon nods to his own statement before excitedly floating off the ground. "I love your hair! It looks like it has stars and comets in it!"

Danny's face feels like it's on fire. He can feel Tim and Cass trying to compress laughter.

"Well, that's a way to win him over." Tim can't quite keep the amusement from his voice. Danny hides his face in his hands, while Jon flounders.

"Wait! What?? What did I do??"

"You told a kid who's obsessed with space that his hair looks like space." Damian sounds exasperated and fond.

"Oh. Oh!" Jon sounds embarrassed, so he clearly hadn't thought about that when he said it. Which is nice.

Danny huffs out a tiny laugh and can feel the room freeze at the sound. It only lasts a second before Cass is hugging him in delight, and the tense moment is gone.

"I can now tell Todd only his ugly face made Danny cry." Damian says with all the maliciousness of a petty sibling. He recognizes it from his time with Jazz. Luckily, none of his new siblings have directed that tone towards him yet, he just knows he'll start crying. He's pretty sure they know it too.

He hates how fragile he is now, not being able to take slightly mean sibling teasing is the worst, but he literally can't do anything about it. He has to take baby steps and heal his trauma at a pace his brain and core can handle, or the potential ghost of Jazz will beat him to a third? fourth? death when they meet again.

Danny reluctantly leaves Cass's hug. He can still feel the steady thum of his anxiety, but Jon hasn't been mean or scary at all. Jon also potentially has advice for how Danny can control his ghost powers that are leaking steadily into his human form. It's like getting his powers all over again for the first time.

[How are you floating?]

"Oh! It's one of the powers I got from dad!" Jon beams.

[I know. But HOW? Can't control mine.]

"Damian! You didn't tell me he has powers!" Jon complains.

"I wasn't going to say anything in public." Damian glares lightly at his friend.

Jon turns a beaming grin at Danny."What do you do? I've got flight, superstrength, durability, lazer eyes, superhearing, and ice breath!"

Danny turns a pleading look to Tim, who flashed an amused but reassuring smile. "So far we've seen; flight, invisibility, intangibility, and we think an ice power is trying to develop. His hearing is advanced as well."

[Ghosty]

"You are not a ghost." Damian is pouting. This is one of the few play arguments Danny has been able to have without having a panic attack.

[Ghost powers. Hides from people. I'm a ghost.] Danny is playfully serious.

"I can see your point, but you're not dead!" Damian seems genuinely a little frustrated, and Danny freezes. Unfortunately long enough to make everyone worried, but he snaps out of it.

[I'm not sure I count as alive.] Danny admits, and the concern in the room skyrockets. He directs the next note towards Jon. [You have superhearing?]

"Yes..?"

[Listen.] Danny pats his chest. Jon's eyes lock on where his heart is.

"No.. no way! Why is it so slow?" A pause. "Your breathing is slow, too. Even though I can tell how anxious you are, meaning this is fast for you... What's that buzzing sound?"

[I'm a freak.]

"Danny, honey, don't call yourself a freak." Tim scolds. "It's not your fault you're like this or were even made. The real freaks are the LoA."

《And even if you were, we like you the way you are.》

"How about we focus on something else?" Jon is frowning in concern, but smiles when he makes eye contact with Danny. "How about we go to the gym, put out the thick mats, and see if we can get you flying on command?"

Everyone is silent as Danny thinks it over.

[Okay.]

The rest of the visit is spent in the manor's gymnastics gym. Danny is still too skittish to let Jon within 5 ft of him and doesn't say anything aloud, but he interacts, and learns some neat tricks when it comes to flying and landing. He still has trouble, but he made some real progress before it's time for dinner. Danny trails after Jon when he goes to leave after dinner, and graces the alien with a quiet.

"Bye..." Danny doesn't understand the funny thing everyone's face does, but he has to dodge Dick's tackle hug directly after. He quickly hides behind Tim after that, completely done with social interaction now. Tim fends off Dick and gets Danny to his room.

Danny likes how his room has changed over the months he's been here. The giant bed is gone, replaced by a bunkbed that's been modified to have sturdy planks hiding the bottom bunk on 3 sides and sturdy folding doors on the 4th. Danny can't sleep in the open anymore, so they made him a nice hidden bed so he'd stop sleeping under the bed. It's also shoved to the wall where he can see all the exits when he peeks out of his hidey hole. Every available surface is covered in space stuff. The built-in bookshelf near the windows is full of his favourite books and different workbooks for alien languages. Rocket ship models are on any book free space. Different space themed posters are plastered all over his walls, the side of his desk and dresser, even his bunk's sturdy exterior. Glow in the dark stars are placed in his home dimension's constellations throughout the room, not that anyone but him knows that. Inside his bunk, he has star covered bedding and star shaped fairy light.

Danny's space obsession has never been so filled. He feels well-fed and safe in this room.

He ends the day feeling accomplished for once. He starts looking forward to meeting his siblings' friends, even if he's scared shitless by the idea.

#tim drake #batfam #batfam shenanigans #damian wayne #danny phantom #danny fenton #cassandra cain #jonathan kent #jon el #social anxiety #tw mental disorders #dpxdc #dc x dp

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levisjinchuriki · 6 months ago

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always will be - toji fushiguro

summary: you know the key to a man's heart is through his stomach. toji is no exception

warning: fluff!!!!!!, kisses

written separately, but can be read as pt. 2 of more to love!

toji had always been intimidatingly fit. his sharp abs, toned arms, and broad chest reflected years of discipline and a lifestyle that demanded he stay in peak condition. it wasn’t something he flaunted—walking around shirtless in his own home was just how he lived. he didn’t think much of it, and neither did you.

after deciding to move in together, subtle changes crept into his life, ones he hadn’t anticipated. every night, he came home to a hot and ready meal. you always made sure it was his favorites, learning his preferences without him needing to say much. and the snacks—that was his biggest weakness. you were thoughtful enough to have something sweet or savory on hand, excusing it by saying “just in case you get hungry later.”

now, as toji pads around your shared home, shirtless as always, you can’t help but notice the differences in his physique. his abs are softer now, the faintest hint of a tummy forming where there used to be none. his arms, still strong, have lost some of their definition.

the late-night snacks you share, the hearty dinners you insist he eats after long days, and the lazy mornings spent curled up in bed instead of at the gym— all of it has added up.

at first, toji doesn’t think much of it. he’s always had a big appetite—one you happily indulge. but over the weeks, the changes become harder to ignore. his pants fit a little snug, and the shirts that once fit comfortably now cling to his chest and stomach.

toji glances down at his stomach, giving it an experimental poke. his finger sinks into a soft layer that wasn’t there before. he grunts in realization, muttering to himself “guess i’ve been slacking.”

but it’s not slacking—it’s comfort. love. the ease of sharing a life with someone who makes him feel whole.

“babe” your voice calls sweetly from the kitchen. “breakfast is ready!”. the smell of sugar and cinnamon hits him as he makes his way to the kitchen. and then he sees it– the biggest, gooiest cinnamon roll he’s ever laid eyes on, sitting proudly on a plate you’re setting on the table.

“you’re trying to fatten me up, aren’t you?” he accuses with a smirk.

you glance up, genuinely confused. “what are you talking about?”. cooking for him has always brought you joy. watching him devour every meal you set in front of him, finishing with a satisfied hum and going up for another serving makes you feel like you’re doing something right. he’s never complained once, and the empty plates he leaves behind are all the validation you’ve ever needed.

toji gestures at his waist, where the elastic band of his sweatpants sits noticeably tighter than it used to. “these don’t fit anymore”.

your cheeks flush. you know full well you’re the reason for the changes, but it’s not something you feel guilty about. if anything, it makes you proud.

“not my fault” you protest, crossing your arms with a playful pout. “you’re the one who goes back for thirds”. your eyes wander over him, noticing how his facial features have softened in the time since you moved in together. his jawline isn’t quite as sharp as it used to be, and there’s a slight fullness in his cheeks now—a small change, one you can’t help but adore.

it’s not just his body that’s softened. there’s a new ease to him, a sense of comfort and peace that wasn’t there before. it shows in the way his shoulders relax when he walks through the door, in the way his laughter comes more freely these days, and in the warmth of his teasing smirk now.

“i think it’s cute” you add softly, your lips curving into a warm smile. you mean it, too. toji might not have the razor-sharp physique he once did, but he’s still the man you fell in love with—strong, handsome, and completely yours.

“cute?” toji raises an eyebrow. “i’m supposed to be intimidating, not cute” he retorts, his deep voice tinged with mock offense. but even as he says it, he knows the truth—he’s gone soft being with you, in more ways than one.

“yeah” you tease, stepping within reach. you stroke his cheek with your thumb. “but you look happy”.

you’re not wrong. for the first time in his life, toji feels truly content. he doesn’t have to keep his guard up or keep himself for the next battle. instead, he has you, a warm home, and a life that no longer feels like a constant fight for survival.

if it costs him a few extra pounds, he can live with it—because for the first time, it feels like he’s really living.

he smiles, the sincerity in his expression reaching his eyes. “i am happy” he says quietly.

your heart swells at his admission, warmth spreading through your chest. your own smile mirrors his as you lean in, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips.

“you better be. or i’ll stop feeding you” you tease after pulling away.

toji’s eyes narrow, his brows drawing together in a warning. “don’t you dare”.

before you can react, he pulls you into his lap, guiding your back against his chest with ease. his grip tightens around your waist, and you settle into him, feeling the heat of his body pressing against yours. you both share a few playful, soft and lingering kisses before toji reaches for his breakfast.

he breaks off a piece and offers you the first bite, feeding it to you with such tenderness. his lips hover near yours as he leans in to steal a quick kiss, humming in appreciation of the sweet frosting that sticks to you.

if you’re being honest– you’ve noticed the changes in him. the extra pounds that have slowly added up, the snug fit of his shirts, the softness in his once-defined features. but it’s not something that bothers you. in fact, it only makes you love him more. the softening of his body is a symbol of the comfort, the safety, and the ease he’s found with you.

you rest your head against him, loving that he’s comfortable with you, comfortable in this space you’ve created together. toji doesn’t have to be the intimidating, hardened man he was before. he’s allowed to relax, to soften in all the best ways.

“i think you look perfect” you whisper, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

the edge of toji's smirk falters. perfect. it's not a word he’s used to associating with himself. toji knows his scars, his flaws, the rough edges he’s tried to smooth out over the years. perfect was for things he never thought he could have, for people he never thought he deserved.

but here you are, saying it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

toji tightens his grip around your waist, pulling you closer until there’s not an inch of space between you. he doesn’t speak right away. instead, he lowers his head, his nose brushing softly against your temple, as he repeats the sentence in his head.

“you really think so?” he asks, his voice hesitant.

you tilt your head to meet his gaze, your smile warm and unwavering. “of course. you’ve always been perfect to me. always will be".

the sincerity in your voice is enough to ease his worries. he believes you, knowing you'd never lie to him. he doesn’t know how to respond—how to put into words what your belief in him does to his heart.

so instead, he leans in, brushing his lips against yours. he's gentle, even as he deepens it. it’s not just a kiss; it’s a thank you, a promise, and a confession all rolled into one.

“guess i can live with that” he murmurs against your lips, his smirk returning, softer now. there’s a warmth in his eyes, an acceptance of something he’s still trying to believe.

---

a/n: thank you for reading. happy new year!! <3 what are your resolutions this year?

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vxlenst3in · 4 months ago

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Bubbles and Love

After receiving a hefty punishment by the aliens, for breaking the "no dating" rule, you just wanted to take a relaxing bubble bath to calm down. Mr. Goldie Locks aka Luka had other plans.

tags/warnings: fem!reader x luka, bathtub sex, gentle sex, lots of praising, tooth rotting fluff before they fuck, mentions of punishment, mentions of death in like one sentence, luka worships the ground you walk on (not literally) (yet), mentions of toys, luka is a man who likes to grab what can i say, penetration, no protection

wordcount: 1.3k-ish again..

authors note: hiyaa! after waiting like 5 months, i've finally wrote a part 2 for my punishment - luka x fem reader fic. i decided to go for the gentle bathtub sex, that someone requested a few days ago. it just felt better to write smth gentle after the rough first part. kylie, i know ur gonna see this, i will work on all the freaky luka fics after this and your ideas will be used!! don't you worry :) it isn't required to read the initial fanfic to understand this part 2, but not reading it might cause confusion here and there, so yeah.

You let out a heavy groan, as you sank into the warm water beneath you. It was over. The punishment was finally over. You repeated in your head over and over again. No matter how pleasurable it was, the post-nut clarity hit the second you got off stage. It certainly took a toll on your mental health, but you were sure it was going to be okay over time. For now you were going to enjoy the lovely bubble bath, you had prepared for yourself, and no one was going to disturb y-

“Hi there.”

The sudden voice pulled you out of your thoughts. Out of reflex you pulled your hands out of water, causing it to splash the mysterious person next to the bathtub. It wasn’t until you turned your head to them, that you saw the soaked gold locks covering parts of their face. Beneath the hair, you could make out a smug grin and even the blonde lashes peeked through.

“Ah” He chuckled. “Just put new clothes on, now I’m all soaked again..” With each word the realization slowly hit you. It was just your boyfriend. And you just splashed him with water. He pushed back the soaked hair strands, revealing the rest of his pretty face.

“You could’ve knocked or something- What are you doing here anyway?” You exclaimed, feeling a little guilty, even though it technically wasn’t your fault. He was the one who sneaked up on you!

“Well, I missed you!” He confessed. Even though the confession was rather teasing, than anything.

“We were strapped together just an hour ago, and you already miss me?”

“How dare a man miss his girlfriend? Anyway, bathing without me? How rude” Luka shot you his signature smirk. One that you’d normally see right before you receive a bullet through your body.

Before you could even reply, the blonde was already taking off his clothes. You let out a defeated sigh, as you scooted over to make space for him in the bathtub. It was truly a mystery how he always managed to find the energy for all of this. Luka never seemed to show any kind of exhaustion, and it was worrying.

His clothes landed somewhere on the bathroom floor. No matter how many times you saw him with little to no clothing, you never got used to it. Something about his body, that just made your heart beat faster and leave your mouth dry. He felt the same about you, every dip and curve on your body, every mole, freckle and inch of it just made you look beyond ethereal. Not that he only wanted you for your body.

After Luka settled behind you, both of his hands were already pulling you back by the waist. The blonde let out a satisfied sigh, when he felt your back press flush against his chest. The noises from outside of the bathroom were suddenly starting to drown out, it was just the two of you in this moment. When he finally settled his hands on your thighs comfortably, you gently turned your head to listen to his heartbeat. As expected, it sounded like it was gonna beat out of his chest. His golden eyes stared down at you, before pushing a few strands of hair out of your face. He caught himself genuinely smiling. What a loverboy…

In the shock of this “moment of weakness”, he quickly had to retort to something that would distract him. Your eyes followed his hands, as they scooped up some bubble foam. Before you could even process it, he had put it on his face in the form of a mustache. You could only raise your eyebrows at the action.

“You’re a dork, you know that?”

“You love meeee~” Luka singsang, his proud smirk returning.

He looked silly, and adorable at the same time. Not that you were ever going to admit it. Not that you had a chance to, when you suddenly felt his hands run up and down your body. Squeezing and paying extra attention to his favorite parts of you. What a needy man.

“You can’t be serious, Luka” A judging look formed on your face, not that he cared.

“So very serious, love.”

“At least get rid of that bubble mustache..”

“Fine…” He sighed in defeat.

—

“Easy now. Still so sensitive, my love.” Luka cooed at you, while slowly sinking you down on his dick. His hands resting on the fat of your hips to have a better grip on you. Your own breath got caught in your lungs. The vibrator from earlier pulled however many orgasms out of you, so everything was, in fact, still sensitive. The stretch of his dick felt more painful than usual, and you weren’t sure how you were going to get it any further.

Luka on the other hand felt like he could already cum. His dick twitched repeatedly, while he slowly sank you down on him. He was aware of your pain, and for once, felt sorry about it. Unlike all the other times where he’d enjoy seeing the tears stream down your face. This time, he wanted to make this as enjoyable as possible for you. Only gentle love was in his mind, as he heard your little whines. “I know…Oh, I know~” He whispered into your ear, while pressing soft kisses down your shoulder. “Almost there, sweet girl. Doin such a good job for me..”

When you finally reached the base, both of you could only groan out. His words went straight to your heat, pulsating around him ever so slightly. It didn’t take long before he started moving, it wasn’t exactly a thrusting motion, but more of a grinding one. Luka simply couldn’t find the strength to move his hips anymore than that, and neither could you. But it was enough, enough to feel heightened pleasure from the earlier overstimulation.

His hands began roaming again, while he continued to press kisses to your upper body. The purple fingertips knew every spot to make you feel even better, with just simple actions. He was talented, in many ways.

“Luka…! Feels good…” You moaned out. Your hand finding one of his to intertwine them.

“Yeah? Feels good for me too, sweetheart..You look so pretty” He praised, happily intertwining his fingers with yours. The sight below him was beautiful. His lovely girlfriend all splayed out for him like this? He never thought he could be in such a vulnerable state around someone, while still feeling comforted and happy.

With each roll of his hips, a jolt of pleasure got sent through his nerves. By now, his grinding had also found your g-spot, but if that wasn’t enough, his previous roaming hand had found its way to your clit, gently rubbing it in circles. God, he was close, and he needed you to be as well.

“Sweetheart…so close, you gonna cum with me?” He breathed into your ear, his hot breath tickling it. You could only nod in agreement, as you slowly felt the knot in your stomach build up. His touch was so endlessly gentle, yet he made you feel so high with pleasure, you couldn’t explain it. The water, which was barely warm at this point, was the only noise that could be heard in between moans and whines.

The gentle rubs on your clit slowly turned into more rough ones, while the roll of his hips got faster as well. Luka buried his face in the crook of your neck, as he chased his high. “I love you…” He murmured into your neck right before cumming. It didn’t take long before your own high hit you, and you came with his last words echoing through your head.

Luka didn’t even realize it until a good minute after. Those words slipped out in the heat of the moment, not that he didn’t mean it, it was just-

“I love you too, Luka.”

©vxlenst3in - do not steal, modify, translate or repost my work.

#✎ᴠᴀʟ #x reader #smut #drabble #luka alien stage #alien stage x reader #luka x reader #luka alien stage x reader #alien stage #alien stage smut #alnst luka #alnst #alnst luka x reader #alnst smut

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bludhavents · 5 months ago

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As Long as You Know Me

Pairing: Liam Mairi x Reader

Word count: 3.3k

Summary: As a child of the rebellion, your birthday failing on Reunification Day stirs up a swarm of emotion. When your friends try to celebrate, Liam comes to your rescue... in his boxers.

Warnings: Grief, parent loss, fem!reader. Little angsty, but lots of fluff included. No use of Y/N.

A/N: Long time no see :) You can send in any requests, sign up to join my tag list, and read my previous works all through my bio, tehe! I have lots more Fourth Wing content on the way. I hope you enjoy, comment for a part 2!

July 1st was an open wound. As a child of the rebellion, it marks the day that I was forced to watch my parents be executed for fighting for a better life. July 1st is the day that Lillian Sorrengail ruined my life.

It’s the day she ironically declared “Reunification Day”, as if she hadn’t torn apart families and orphaned so many children.

July 1st was also the day that I was born. Every year since I turned eleven, my birthday has been tainted by the cruelty of the General and her misguided sense of justice.

This year, my birthday starts with her drunk daughter knocking on my door.

“Take it!” Violet urges, trying to pass me a shot of liquor. I make no move to reach for it.

Her, Rhiannon, Ridoc, and Sawyer are all standing at my door with cheery grins across their faces and dazed looks in their eyes. They don’t have nightmares of watching their parents die. On the worst day of my life, they were probably out celebrating with their families, smiling at the rebels’ defeat. I spent that night alone. I spent it with a cursed mark running up my skin forever.

“What’s going on?” I stifle a yawn behind my hand, wrapping my blanket tighter around my shoulders as I face them.

“You’re twenty-one!” Rhiannon’s words slur as she claps me on the shoulder. “Drink up, birthday girl!”

“What time is it?” I blink at them. Ridoc’s smile falls into a line of annoyance quickly.

“You’re really ruining this, you know?” He chastises. I raise my eyebrows and look across the rest of the faces in front of me, eight eyes watching me with weaning anticipation. Sawyer sways on his feet and I notice the moonlight coming through the hallway window behind him.

“What time is it?” I ask again, staring at Sorrengail this time. She’s chewing her bottom lip. The shot in her hand is about to pour over the edges.

“It’s midnight,” Rhiannon explains as if it’s obvious.

“For fuck’s sake,” I complain, running a hand down my face. I move to shut the door, but Ridoc protests, pushing it open and letting himself into my room. The rest follow him without question. My stomach rolls at the smell of booze they bring into the room.

“It smells nice in here,” he compliments, sitting on my bed. I disagree.

“What are you guys doing?” I sigh in frustration. “It’s late. You woke me up.”

There’s a part of me that feels guilty for my lack of enthusiasm at their excitement, but the larger--tired-- part of me is overwhelmingly disappointed by their lack of thoughtfulness. It doesn’t take a lot of tact to refrain from initiating a celebration on the day of someone’s traumatic event. Yet somehow, they still managed to surprise me in the worst way.

Have none of them thought that maybe I wouldn’t want to celebrate my birthday? Have they possibly considered that I didn’t tell them about it for a reason? The mark that swirls up my arm was no secret. They know what today means to me.

“We’re celebrating. It’s your birthday. Quit whining,” he complains. “What do you want to do? We could still go into town.”

“I want to go to bed.” I lean against my open door frame and stare at my friends who are now scattered across my room. Violet places the shot on my desk before dropping her body on to my chair. Rhiannon has a handle of liquor in her hands and is drinking from the bottle. I cringe.

“But it’s your birthday,” she whines.

“Happy birthday,” Sawyer coos, pulling me into a hug. I groan and gently push him back.

“I appreciate you all, but it’s really late, and I’m tired, and I don’t celebrate my birthday, so I think you guys should take this party elsewhere,” I explain, hoping that my reasoning can make itself known without me having to spell it out. My rebellion relic tingles on my skin. Rhiannon whines loudly and shrieks as she almost drops her bottle of liquor. I cross my eyebrows.

A loud slam of a door echos down the hallway and I hold my breath, hoping that nobody else has come to join this dreadful birthday party.

“Are you okay?” Liam is in my room immediately, and I feel my shoulders relax slightly. The first thing he does is place a hand on my shoulder, scanning my face for injury and finding none to warrant the pained expression on my face. His eyes starts searching the room wildly before he seems to put the pieces of the scene together himself. “Oh. I heard a scream.”

“Sorry.” Rhiannon frowns. Violet stifles a giggle. My eyes catch the liquid dripping out of the corner of her mouth before she wipes it away with her sleeve.

“Now you can join the party,” Ridoc says from my bed. Liam says nothing.

I step toward him, letting his strong arm loop around my waist and bring me into his side. I let out a deep breath and he pulls me in tighter, the both of us exchanging a thousand words without speaking.

“What’re you wearing?” Violet asks him, wobbling as she stands from my chair. She stumbles over the edge of my rug as she approaches him, and Sawyer is quick to catch her before she hits the ground. I turn my face into Liam’s side, unable to watch this shit show any longer. He straightens beside me, bringing a hand to cradle the back of my head.

“Are any of you guys sober?” Liam asks. I feel his voice rumbling in his chest as he does.

“Nope!” Ridoc pops the p and pulls a flask out of his pocket. He tosses it to Liam, who watches it fall to the ground two feet in front of him. “Oops.”

Sawyer has his arm around Violet’s waist, steadying her as she clings onto his shirt for balance. Rhiannon is sprawled on my floor, shoes kicked off, with the bottle to her lips again. Ridoc is now under my covers with his head on my pillow. I grumble.

“What’s going on here?” A new person steps into the drunken circus that has invaded my room and I throw my head back in frustration, not having asked for any of this.

I miss my life ten minutes ago, when I was fast asleep in bed.

“Couldn’t tell you.” I look across Liam and meet Xaden’s eyes. The two of them whisper something back and forth before Xaden nods once and takes a further step into my room. His first stop is the flask on the floor, then the bottle in Rhiannon’s hand, then the now-empty shot glass on my desk.

“Back to your own rooms, cadets. Be sober by morning, we will be having a discussion about this with Aetos.” He walks toward the door, holding it open with his foot as Sawyer drags Violet out of the room. Liam and I step out of the way, breaking our embrace to give them room to move. I notice Violet’s eyes lingering on the wingleader, but he doesn’t so much as look her way as she’s pulled to her room. Rhiannon leaves next, smiling cluelessly as she carries her shoes in her hands.

“Happy birthday,” she says, throwing her arms around my neck in a hug. Her boots slam against my back and I wince. She leans all of her weight on me and nearly drags me down as she hangs from my neck. I unwrap her from me and she walks out.

“Love you.” Ridoc slings an arm around my shoulders and tries to guide me out of the room with him.

“Cadet Gamlyn.” He lets go at the sound of Xaden’s voice. The older boy shuts the door as soon as everyone is out, leaving only myself, Liam, and him. We all breathe out. “What was that all about?”

“They found out it was my birthday. I don’t know if they’ve even put together that it’s the same day,” I answer, not needing to expand on what ‘same day' means to this crowd. Both of the men in front of me were there to watch their loved ones die alongside mine. They understand the storm of grief stirring in my stomach. I sit on the edge of my bed, huffing at the disarray of my comforter.

“You were with them?” Xaden accuses Liam, who moves to sit next to me.

“No. I came in when I heard someone scream. I thought someone had come in and tried to hurt her or something.” He yawns, and I remember that it’s midnight. He must have been asleep just before he came in. His light hair is tousled on top of his head, and I notice for the first time that he wears only a pair of loose, black boxers. I avert my stare and bite my lip as my face heats at the realization of his muscled legs pressed up against the thin fabric of my nightdress. I swallow hard.

Xaden, on the other hand, is still wearing his training gear. I’m not surprised. I can’t imagine that he’ll be attempting to sleep tonight. Being the son of Fen Riorson makes today a little more complicated.

He sits in my desk chair and puts his head in his hands, sighing deeply. I lean my head to the side and lay it on Liam’s bare shoulder. His head turns and he presses a soft kiss to my hair, leaving his face to rest there.

The three of us sit there silently grieving with one another.

I let my mind wander to the birthdays I celebrated before the dreadful day I turned eleven. I remember my father making heart-shaped waffles for breakfast every year and letting me drown them in whipped cream and chocolate syrup. I remember my mother waking me up by climbing into bed with me and kissing my forehead. I remember my last happy birthday with them, when we were all crying from laughter because the bakery spelled almost every word on the cake wrong. When we were all alive.

I think of my mother’s laughter, her loud snorts that would send us all further into a fit of giggles. I think of how my father would always put a hand on his gut when he was really tickled by a joke. I’ll never forget either of their joy, throughout everything.

I’ll never forget that Lillian Sorrengail robbed me of experiencing that ever again. I’ll never forget that she robbed my future children of their grandparents. I’ll never forget that she had the audacity to grieve for her son and her husband when they died years later, as if she hadn’t inflicted that pain onto so many other families.

My mind flits back to the present when Liam begins rubbing his hand up and down my bicep. I inhale deeply through my nose, trying to ground myself back in reality. The boy beside me smells like citrus and rain, and I breathe it in again. His touch is soft and delicate, such a loving motion that sweeps my heart into a flurry. I sigh into him.

My eyes wander my room, landing on the confiscated liquor Xaden set on my desktop. His large body is still in my tiny chair, but now he’s slumped forward, eyes closed, and breathing deeply. My lips turn upward.

I sit up straight, facing Liam. He looks back at me, his eyes glossy. I feel my heart crack in my chest at the sight, but shove the pain down where I store the rest of today’s feelings. My finger rests on my lips to warn him to stay quiet and he nods, licking his lips. I pull my eyes away from the action and then point to where Xaden is asleep in my chair. A small grin rises on Liam’s mouth and I raise my palm to my mouth, stifling a laugh.

In all the years that I’ve known Xaden Riorson, I’ve never seen him without the crease between his eyebrows and the tension tightening his jaw. Looking at him now, he’s perfectly peaceful. His breaths are even and deep in the too-small chair. His skin is free from any stress lines. His lips are slightly parted and his hair is hanging loosely. Gentle snores fall from his mouth.

I draw my eyes back to Liam to see him sitting back on his hands and staring at the rare sight, too. In this position, every muscle in his upper body is perfectly displayed. His forearms, biceps, shoulders, chest, abs. I drag my eyes up his body and back to his pretty face.

“Do you want to sleep in here, too?” I offer to him in a whisper. We both know that, despite my wandering eyes, I’m offering because of the pain we are both going to be in once we’re alone. It’s easier to ride the grief out together. He nods once and adjusts himself on my bed.

Now, he’s sitting up straight against my headboard, legs extended out. He holds my gaze and shoots me a boyish grin as he kicks his feet into my lap. The look on his face is enough to seize my thoughts for a moment, and I have to blink to regain my senses.

With a roll of my eyes, I lift his legs off of me. I slide my throw blanket off of my shoulders and move across the room, draping it gently over Xaden’s body. I move back to the bed quietly, where I grab the top corners of my comforter and pull them up with me as I scoot to where Liam is perched at the head of the mattress. We sit shoulder-to-shoulder. I gather the material of the comforter and pull it over our laps.

“Should we move him?” His voice is loud enough for me to hear, but low enough that the sleeping boy couldn’t hear it from across the square room.

“I don’t think so.” I match his quiet tone. “He needs the sleep. If we wake him up he’s just going to leave. I think it’s best for him to be with us.”

“You’re very thoughtful,” he praises, and my stomach flutters. Liam Mairi has always been a kind boy. For him to be kind under the covers with me in his boxers was a whole new experience, though, and it was one I hoped to find myself in again as soon as possible.

His toned stomach is expanding and deflating so hypnotically that I find my lips parting as I watch helplessly. My eyes drift to the trail of hair that begins below his navel and continues into the waistband of his bottoms.

“What’re you thinking about?”

My face heats as I tear my eyes away from his body and meet his burning gaze, and I shrug.

“I’m a little rubbed the wrong way by my impromptu birthday party,” I supplement instead of revealing my actual thoughts. He lifts his arm from next to mine and drapes it around my shoulders, bringing me closer to him until my head is resting on his chest again. I adjust my legs on the bed and let myself get comfortable against his solid wall of muscle.

“I’m sorry. I get it. Do you remember that guy who tried to kill me during our first training fight?” I nod against his chest, tracing lazy circles along his skin with the tip of my index finger. “Well I kept an eye on him after that. He fought four other people, and only tried to kill the ones with rebellion relics.”

“Oh, Liam.” I turn my head to look at him and find his soft blue eyes looking toward Xaden’s sleeping form. “I’m so sorry. I wish things were different.”

“Me too. It’s just hard whenever we have to deal with things like that and our friends don’t. They probably don’t even realize what today means for us, because they’ve been celebrating it for so long without having to think about what we went through on the other side.” He shrugs his arm off my shoulder and moves it up and down the back of my night dress, making me shiver. It feels like the heat of his touch is burning right through the fabric and into my skin. I have to remind myself to breathe.

We sit like that in silence for a few minutes until he speaks again. “Can I turn the light off?”

I nod, holding back a groan when he moves his body away from mine and leaves me in my bed that suddenly feels too big without him. His footsteps are quiet as he moves across the room and flicks the switch. I lift the blanket up for him and he laughs softly, sliding in and laying his head on my pillow. He extends his arm for me to lay on, and I do, resting my head where his shoulder and bicep meet.

“Thank you for staying.” I’m staring at him under the faint moonlight that’s coming through the window. The shadow of his full lips curves upward as a grin stretches across his face charmingly. My chest flutters. His blue eyes flick to mine.

“Thank you for inviting me. I didn’t think my first night spent with you would include my brother sleeping in your chair, but I guess it’s still pretty nice,” he teases with a wink. It takes all my strength to contain the bark of laughter that threatens to escape at his sudden boldness. A breathy chuckle leaves me instead, fanning over his freckled skin.

“Are you saying you’ve thought about spending the night with me, Liam?” I fiend upset, pushing myself up with the hand on his chest so that my face is hovering over his. “I’m shocked.”

“Oh please.” He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, moving his hand along my head until it reaches the back of my neck and stays there. My eyes flick down to his strong arm flexed beneath me before I can stop myself, and his smile widens impossibly. “You know every guy in this wing has thought about spending a night here with you.”

“What?” I furrow my brows. “Are there other guys in this wing? Could’ve fooled me.”

His laugh rumbles through his chest and into my heart where it twists itself into nervous ropes.

Liam and I have had an undeniable chemistry for as long as I can remember, but I’ve always been too afraid to act on it. His friendship meant too much to me, and I didn’t want to risk pursuing something that might cost me that. Now though, with his hand on my neck and his bare skin on my sheets, I find myself willing to risk anything to have this. I pull my eyes away from his lips only to find him staring at mine.

“The boys of Fourth Wing will be very sad to know that their fantasy girl doesn’t even know they exist.” He wets his lips with his tongue and meets my eyes with a mischievous smirk. “I don’t feel bad for them, though. As long as you know me that’s all that matters.”

The hand on the back of my neck draws me closer, slowly, giving me time to protest. Instead, I meet his eyes and nod once. The smirk that graces his lips is enough to send me into overdrive. Liam parts his lips beneath me and I pause, only centimeters away, inhaling his exhales. His large nose turns as he moves to close the distance between us. My eyes flutter shut.

A loud crash comes from across the room to interrupt our moment, and Liam wraps both of his arms around me immediately, pinning me to the curve of his neck and protecting my head with his free arm.

There’s a passing moment of silence before a pained groan follows, and then Liam is laughing loudly under me. He takes his hands off of me and throws his head back against the pillow in an uncontrollable fit of giggles.

“Shut up,” Xaden moans into the darkness.

I swing my legs off of the mattress and hurry to the lightswitch, but trip and fall halfway there. Xaden and I both groan in unison, and Liam’s laughter only grows louder and more humored.

The loud sound came from Xaden crashing to the ground along with my now-broken chair.

A rough hand shoves my shoulder and I roll off of him, cursing under my breath. Landing on top of him was far more painful than I would have expected. I lay on the floor beside him and laugh shortly.

“Did you sleep well?” I ask over the chuckles in the background. Xaden grunts in response. “How did my chair break?”

“Stop asking me questions,” he grumbles. “I’ll get you a new chair for your birthday.”

I laugh again at that.

He sits up on the floor and runs his hand through his messy hair. Liam manages to navigate his way to the lightswitch without tripping over one of us, and as soon as the bulb flicks on, all three of us are closing our eyes and mumbling our protests.

“Neither of you are wearing enough clothes for me,” the older boy complains as he adjusts to the light, throwing the blanket I left on his sleeping shoulders at me. His attention turns to Liam, narrowing his eyes as he looks up at him. “What’re you still doing here anyway?”

“I wasn’t gonna leave her alone in here with you snoring like that. Someone had to cover her ears so that she could sleep,” he deflects, moving to sit on the edge of my bed. Xaden rolls his eyes so hard that I wonder if it hurts.

“I don’t even remember falling asleep.” He rubs the back of his neck with his hand and yawns. I’ve never seen him so vulnerable. “Thanks for letting me sleep.”

“You’re always welcome to stay here. Once I get a new chair, I mean,” I tease him.

#liam mairi x reader #liam mairi #liam mairi x y/n #fourth wing x reader #fourth wing #fourth wing fanfic #xaden riorson x reader #liam mairi x you #liam mairi imagine #fourth wing imgine #xaden riorson #iron flame #the empyrean #onyx storm #rebecca yarros #Liam lives

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bbyquokka · 10 months ago

Text

blow me instead?

– “Why should I blow out the candles, when you can just blow me instead?” prompt

pairing | lee felix x gender-neutral reader

genre | smut – 18+ is strongly advised!

cw | established relationship ; dom felix ; oral sex (blowjob) ; finger sucking ; cum swallowing ; deep throating

words | 2.6k ~ ( 2,693 ) + 2 fake texts !

notes | a lil smth for felix's bday. jisung's will be posted at a later date when i've finished it :( don’t forget to leave feedback, reblog and tell me what you think here. i hope you all enjoy! ‹3

m.list — wips list — you can also read it on my ao3

dont repost. dont translate. minors, ageless & default blogs; dni! feedback and reblogs are highly advised and appreciated!

you forgot. you’ve forgotten the most important day of the year and you are currently kicking yourself for it. it’s felix’s birthday, the one day of the year that you look forward to every single year – but for some unknown reason, this year you forgot.

maybe it’s because you’ve both been really busy that you haven’t given it a second thought. you’re always well prepared for things like this, but this year it slipped your mind.

you knew you forgotten something but you couldn't tell what. you had that nagging feeling in the back of your mind but you pushed it to the side. “i’ll figure it out later” you always told yourself only to forget – once again.

it wasn't until the day before, did you looked at your calendar and see ‘15th sept’ circled and decorated in hearts, labelled ‘felix’s bday!!’ did you panic. that nagging feeling quickly turned into a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach. worry and panic washing over you and coating your skin in a cold sweat.

it was way into the night to go to the store to pick something up. everything was closed. you thought about making him something but realised that you don't have the materials to do so. so a quick search on the web was your last resort. you hoped you could find something that would do next day delivery but alas, after several hours of searching and drawing up blanks, did you accept your fate.

you woke up the day of his birthday, feeling guilty and it's eating you alive. you don't think you'd be able to face to him without bursting into tears.

“i should at least wish him a happy birthday.” you mumble. you take your phone from the night stand and open up felix's contact. your thumb hovers over the green circle.

you hesitate. lips pursed together. you overthink. you can hear his sullen tone of voice. you can see his facial expressions twisted into sadness. your heart aches and feels tight, like someone is gripping onto it.

“fuck. i can't.” you throw your phone onto the bed beside you, watching it bounce from impact before rubbing your face with your hands and groaning. “maybe a shower will help me. i’ll call him then!”

you didn't call him. in fact, you spent the whole day avoiding him. you did pop to the store and buy a small box of cupcakes and some candles. you had this idea of surprising him by turning up at his place with a fancy birthday cake, thinking it's better than nothing,�� but when the store only had cupcakes to offer, that idea was quick to fizzle out.

the cakes are now sitting on the counter, untouched and unopened. you're in your lounge wear on the sofa, TV on but you're not tuned into whatever show it's playing. instead, you're on your social media, looking at what felix has been up to the whole day.

pictures of felix with chan, jisung and hyunjin. birthday wishes from friends and family flood his profiles. you're glad he's had a good day but that guilt just won't go away.

you've shamelessly avoided him the whole day because you couldn't face him. it's cowardly of you and you know it, but in a way, you just shut off.

you rush to your feet. your sock covered soles slapping against the floor as you rush to the door. you open it and come face to face with a not so pleased looking felix.

'“i see you're still alive.” you swallow. he sounds irritated. he's angry at you and you don't blame him.

“felix, i–”

“are you going to let me in or are we just going to stand out in the hallway?” he cuts you off. you look down at your feet and shuffle to the side, opening the door wider for him.

he walks in, kicking off his shoes and hanging up his coat as you close the door behind him. he notices the unopened cupcakes and pack of birthday candles by the side of them.

“so?” he starts as he looks at you. your chin is tucked into your chest, fingers fiddling with one another. you feel like a child about to be told off by a parent.

“i'm so sorry, felix.” you start, keeping your eyes glued to your feet. you don't want to make eye contact with him because the guilt of forgetting is eating you alive. it's making you feel incredibly nauseous.

“for?” his arms crossed against his chest as he looks down at you, brow raised. his authoritative and dominant aura seeps out from his pores and clouds you, suffocating you in the process.

“... i–uh…” you start, words lodged in your throat. felix lets out a small, irritated sigh. “I forgot about your birthday.”

your voice is small and cracks. you furiously blink back the tears that are threatening to spill from your lower lash line.

“you forgot?” you nod slowly. “is that why you've been avoiding me?” you nod again. “why?”

“because i thought you'd be angry at me… like right now.” felix runs his fingers through his hair slowly.

“i’m not angry that you forgot. it happens. i’m angry because you avoided me on my birthday.”

“i know.. i’m sorry.” you look up at him and chew your bottom lip. the cupcakes catch the corner of your eye. you rush to then, opening them and the candles before sticking one in the middle of the cake.

felix follows you and watches you with eager eyes. his gaze suddenly feels hot. he licks his lips as he admires your body, eyes flickering up and down.

he's undressing you with his eyes.

you turn around, holding the cupcake in your hand with the candle flame flickering. you present it in front of felix and smile.

“i got you cupcakes though. i know it's not much but i couldn't find anything on such short notice…” felix simply hums and looks at the cake, then you. “are you not going to blow it out?” you question after some seconds pass.

felix leans in close. his lips brush against the shell of your ear as his voice drops and becomes low and deep. his warm breath fans against your ear as he speaks.

“why should i blow out the candles when you can just blow me instead?”

goosebumps ripple along your skin. your heart suddenly starts racing. his breath feels ticklish against your ear, body temperature suddenly rising

“f-felix!” you squeak as he pulls back, finding amusement at your shocked facial expression.

“i assume you didn't get me a gift so i can consider a blowjob as one. and if you do a good job, maybe i’ll let you off the hook for avoiding me on my special day.”

“i–” you swallow a little, the heat from the candle is radiating onto your chin, adding to the increase of your own body temperature.

felix keeps his brow raised before trailing his hand down his torso to his groin where he squeezes and groans softly.

you can't take your eyes off him. you watch his hand squeeze and palm himself through his jeans. his veins bulging from his hands and arms.

he kicks his head back a little, lips parting and giving you a view of his outstretched neck. his adams apple bobbing with his swallows. soft moan and grunts leaving his parted lips.

“don't just stand there.” his deep voice brings you back down to reality. “blow me.”

you place the cake down on the counter (after you blow out the candle) before kneeling in front of felix. he looks down at you. his dominate aura making you feel small and vulnerable but excited.

you can feel the pit of your stomach tingle and bubble with excitement. warmth coating your groin. the tips of your fingers and toes feel electric from the surging feeling of excitement that's mixed in with hormones.

you reach up and slide your hands up and under his t-shirt. his warm skin hugs the tips of your fingers. the sturdiness of his abs flexing and tensing with his stomach moving in time with his breathing.

you feel his smooth skin, tracing his muscles with your fingers. the only thing that isn't smooth, however, is the small, yet noticeable happy trail that runs from his belly button and disappears below his jean waistband.

“mhm..” felix hums softly, your touch giving him goosebumps. you move your hands lower until they come into contact with the rough fabric of his denim jeans.

you look up at him, asking for permission with your eyes to which he gives with a nod of his head.

you unbutton and unzip his jeans slowly, revealing that he is wearing black designer boxer shorts. you notice how his bulge is slowly, but surely, getting bigger with each passing second as he anticipates and waits.

you pull his jeans down to his knees. you press the palm of your hand against his crotch, massaging him slowly. he huffs. his cock twitching against the palm of your hand.

you give him a few gentle squeezes. your touch is too gentle for his liking so he looks down again you with glossy eyes.

“harder.”

you oblige by wrapping your fingers around his clothed length and squeezing, hard. his hips buck slightly and a soft, deep moan falls from his lips.

you feel his warm hand pressing against your cheek as his fingers graze along your jawline before bumping against your bottom lip.

he slowly strokes your lip, chewing on his own.

“look at me.” you look up at him, making eye contact. two of his fingers nudge between your lips, gently pushing past them as you part them.

“good.” he whispers as his fingers caress your tongue. your brows furrow together, lips wrapping around the two digits as you suck. your saliva coats felix's fingers thoroughly whilst he pushes them further into your mouth until they're fully encapsulated in the warmth of your mouth.

the hand that around his clothed length has slowed down and is now loosely gripping him. your groin feels hot and excited, tingles in your stomach as felix explores the inside of your mouth with his two fingers before pulling them out slowly.

he gives a satisfying ‘hm’ before instructing you to continue with the nod of his head.

you whimper a little and reach up with both hands, grabbing the waistband of his boxer shorts. your fingertips brush against his hot skin, causing felix to shiver and huff in excitement.

you slowly pull down his underwear, revealing his happy train and v-lines slowly before his erect penis is revealed, bouncing and twitching at the sudden cold air hitting his hot shaft.

felix lets out a small breath of relief. the feeling of being restrained is no longer an issue. his hips buck slightly as you wrap your hand around the base of his shaft, stroking it slowly.

you watch the man above you slowly crumble. his penis twitching, pre-cum leaking from his slit. his shaft is hot against the palm of your hand, tip red and a few veins protruding along the sides.

your hand glides up and down his penis, rotating at the top. you use the pad of your thumb to gently rub his tip, smearing the pre-cum and making his tip glisten.

the sensitivity gets to felix. his hips rocking a little in your hand against his will, thigh muscles noticeable twitching. his head flops to the side slightly, half-lidded eyes looking down at you and watching your every move.

you lean in and lick the side of his shaft a few times before pressing your tongue against his tip and swiping it several times. his salty pre-cum coats your tastes buds, making you feel more excited.

you rub your thighs together as the heat in your groin is unbearable at this point. you're desperate for some sort of friction and attention but you're too into pleasuring felix. with the way felix is right now, you know he is going to be selfish and chase his own high.

your free hand cups and caresses his balls. felix hums softly as you roll and squeeze them gently in your hand whilst kitten licking his tip.

“c’mon, baby. you know i need more than that.”

you close your eyes as you wrap your lips around his tip. felix shudders and huffs a little, his teeth digging into his bottom lip. you gently suckle on his tip, swirling your tongue around it a few times before slowly lowering your head and pushing more of him into your mouth.

the corner of your lips feels stretched, mouth stuffed. you try to make your jaw slack but even that is a struggle with how thick and long felix is.

you struggle to put half of his length in, settling with a little under. you can feel his tip bumping the back of your throat and saliva is quick to accumulate in your mouth.

felix huffs and puffs, body shuddering and twitching. he reaches down and runs his fingers through your hair a few times.

you start to bob your head slowly. your hand stroking what your mouth struggles to reach. the head and hand move in synch with each other, providing equally, if not more, pleasure to felix.

he feels the pleasure rushing through his veins and burning. his toes curl against the floorboards and his grip on your hair tightening with each suck as a way to keep him stable and grounded.

“...fuck … baby, m-more..” he pants.

you oblige, increasing speed and intensity. felix's moans become more intense and breathy. his body and mind failing to comprehend the intense feeling of warmth and wetness from your mouth as well as the coolness of your palm.

“... oh fuck.. yes… so fucking good…”

this just encourages you even more. you remove your hand and place them both on his thighs for stability. you push your head further down his length until you can feel it down your throat.

you hold back your gag reflex, swallowing a few times to tighten your throat around him. felix lets out a string of incoherent moans and whispers.

your jaw hurts. your lips hurts. your knees hurt and you can't breath but listening to felix whimper and crumble makes it all worth.

you feel him twitch in your mouth. his hips thrusting involuntarily. he's a mess and he's close.

his balls are tightening and his body is coated in a thin layer of sweat. the sensitivity of his cock head is overbearing.

“don’t stop.. 'm close..” he struggles to say between his moaning. his strangled moans mix in with the sloppy, wet sounds of your mouth.

he lowers his head, chin tucked into chest as he whimpers. a string of “fuck” leaves his lips as he grips onto you. it doesnt take him long. his cock twitches in your mouth, hot fluid coating your tongue and throat.

felix whimpers and whines, huffing and puffing. his body twitches and jerks. you help him ride out his orgasm before slowly pulling away.

you look up at him, making eye contact as you swallow. felix shudders and strokes your swollen bottom lip, saliva collecting on the pad of his thumb.

“you did good, yn.” with felix's help, you rise to your feet. the numb feeling of pain on your knees becoming more noticeable now that your legs are outstretched.

“does this mean i’m forgiven?” you mumble. felix nods and strokes your hair gently.

“sorta.” you look at him slightly confused. “my birthday isn't over just yet, yn.”

“true… so, what do you want?”

felix takes you by the hand and drags you to the bedroom. he gently throws you onto the bed, stripping himself of his clothing as you lean on your forearms and watch.

“i want so much more.” he purrs as he crawls onto the bed, towering over you and kissing the shell of your ear.

“i’m a greedy man, yn. you should know that a blowjob is not nearly enough to satisfy me.”

#kwritersworldnet #wkcnet #straykidsland #skz smut #stray kids smut #lee felix #felix #lee felix smut #felix smut #skz x you #skz x reader #stray kids x you #stray kids x reader #felix x you #felix x reader #lee felix x you #lee felix x reader

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backfliips · 22 days ago

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As someone who admittedly has attention issues of my own, I think it's important to talk about how attention is a skill that can be learned and often requires conscious and focused effort to build. I think a lot of people despair over the current state of media --- short-form algorithm-driven content that is built to snare and lure and diminish people's attention spans for profit --- and while that despair is certainly built off of legitimate concerns, I want to stress that the damage being done is not irreversible.

Over the course of the COVID-19 lockdowns I fried my brain so intensely with tik toks and instagram reels that I was getting bored 2 seconds into a 5 second video and was finding myself scrolling so quickly that I wasn't even watching anymore. I was lethargic and unhappy and though my mood was definitely simultaneously impacted by the hovering doom of COVID-19 and living in complete isolation for months at a time (I don't recommend that, BTW), I found myself losing passion for the things I loved doing: drawing, reading, and writing. I felt miserable and useless and incredibly guilty for leaving my productive and fulfilling hobbies behind while I chased... not even happiness. Just something to occupy my brain and turn it into mush.

As time passed I realized that I wasn't even having fun on tik tok anymore. I'd see funny videos and get a rush of endorphins, and then the next second I would have completely forgotten what I just watched. I was refreshing social media pages to see numbers I didn't even care about. Everything was an endless loop of swapping between different apps, just time passing and passing and my attention span dipping lower and lower until I would go for days without feeling any sense of joy or accomplishment.

And this was most definitely aided by the fact that I was unemployed and stuck in a terrible worldwide epidemic, but as soon as I deleted the tik tok app and put harsh time limits on instagram (15 minutes a day, which I rationed compulsively) I suddenly wanted to draw again. I started reading books again. I started writing and spending time outside and getting inspiration from the world around me.

Now, years later, I work with teenagers whose lives are dictated by their phones. My coworkers often lament the state of the world today --- which, again, is a valid stance to have --- but in the few months after my workplace implemented a no phones policy, I watched disengaged students bounce back to productivity. Instead of scrolling during lectures they paid attention and asked questions and engaged their peers in conversation. During lunch they played board games and talked to each other. Students even told me about how they didn't even want to go on their phones when they got home from school!

It isn't perfect, and I'm not advocating for a world devoid of phones, but I just want to highlight that these neural pathways can be built and exercised. People's brains are resilient and fascinating and much stronger and more adaptable than many people are willing to give them credit for.

I've expanded my time limits across more apps on my phone, setting days where I can't even access social media at all from my phone, and in that short period of time I've found myself far more engaged with the world around me. I've been zipping my phone up in a bag instead of keeping it in my pocket, adding a step to access it, and I've found that that alone is keeping me from using it to a huge degree. I'll toss my phone across the room when I find myself on it when I don't have any reason to be scrolling. And it's helping!

My main message here is that it's never too late to focus on your focus. Change and improvement doesn't happen until you make an effort on your own.

#im ranting

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ribbonskiss · 6 months ago

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THE LEANOVER → OP81

Part 2 of 2. Read Part 1 here.

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x reader

Summary: You come home on uni break to find your brother’s best friend, Oscar, is visiting. You both fall back into old habits, but some things are not the same.

Tags: brother’s best friend, friends to lovers, slow burn, SMUT (18+), masturbation, Jack Doohan is from Melbourne in this one for logistical reasons, not proofread at all hah

A/N: finally!!! The end of The Leanover!!!! Sorry for the extended deadline, this one turned out chunkier than I expected and honestly I don’t know if I’m quite satisfied with it but it is what it is. Anyway, enjoy!

Oscar is a handsome boy. This is a fact you find to be so uncontroversial it may as well be accepted as a universal truth. There has never been a time where girls did not whisper amongst themselves when he would enter a room, where the mothers of his friends would not rave with great emphasis to his about how strong and handsome he’d become, where his presence at a function did not brighten up the place, because not only is he handsome, he is beautiful. Beautiful people are magnetic, you think; their beauty lies in their nature, their fundamental quality of supernatural grace, a gift bestowed by the forces that be towards the lucky few.

You recall his last year of high school. You were sixteen, still growing into your body and learning how to use a felt-tip eyeliner pen. Teenagers are fascistic about social hierarchy; they are greatly cognisant of their standings in the high school pecking order, intensely anal about preserving the rigidity of the structure, and thus you had long accepted your status as the forgotten sibling. Oscar and your brother were athletes, students with clout attached to their names; you were awkward, unaware of your own intensity, intimidating to a fault, but more than happy to lay low. Two individuals of such different standings in the social order should never interact—but for the first (and only) time you were now going to the same house parties and birthday bashes, and here was the greatest display of Oscar’s beauty. You can never forget that image: the figure of him standing on the other side of the room, so broad-shouldered and trim, freckles of sun damage littered over his skin all the way down his neck like constellations, his head turned away from you to reveal his chiselled jaw as he speaks to someone while holding a can of Reschs. And suddenly his eyes would meet yours, catching you in the act, and he’d give you a gentle smile.

You were always so grateful for this. So grateful he would look your way and beam so brightly, a glimpse of his inner calmness, his quiet gentle bliss. You were never under the impression you were the only one to be so blessed by his grace; you were just happy to be around him. Sometimes when he would come over, sprawl himself over your couch or lay on the floor, pissing himself laughing at your brother’s antics into the late hours of the night, you’d ask yourself whether you should feel guilty for being the only witness to this part of his life. This secret of his: that Oscar is so much more beautiful than most people will ever know. Not his fans, not his colleagues, not the majority of the world. This is between you and him.

And now you have him all to yourself. A bit greedy, isn’t it? The past week you’ve spent together has been nothing short of lovely. You find out that he’s strangely disciplined. Oscar’s a dutiful housemate, doing the chores you even forget about without the need to be prompted, unlike most guys his age. He likes to hum to himself when he’s got the vacuum going and he thinks you can’t hear him butcher the tune of “Uptown Girl” by Billy Joel. He’s a good cook who prefers careful measurement over eyeballing. He doesn’t read books like you do, but he’s happy to lie on the couch all day and watch a show with you on the telly. And he’s surprisingly touchy—he seems most pleased when you’re both on the couch, your legs crossed and stretched out, resting on top of his, his hand on your foot, thumb rubbing circles into your skin. You don’t speak during these moments. Nothing needs to be said; things just sort themselves out.

At some point in the afternoon you get tired, yawning to yourself, and without even needing to look at you Oscar reaches over, tugs at your arm to tell you wordlessly to turn around. You oblige; your head against his chest, his fingers trail up your forearm to your shoulders and, eventually, the back of your neck, smoothing over the soft, fine hairs that reside there. You’re too tired to mind the goosebumps the feeling of his fingertips on your skin gives you, or the increasing thump-thump-thump of his heartbeat underneath you. You shift in his arms, folding your legs up in a way that makes the hem of your shorts ride up, exposing the curve of your thighs all the way up towards the swell of your—well… It would be so uncouth for him to look there.

It never occurs to either of you that the hardest part of the process is done. The feeling returns: the feeling that arises in you when he looked at you from across the room at those parties all those years ago. The feeling of knowing that person so incredibly well. Of sharing a secret together, and letting that secret grow bigger and bigger until it takes on a life of its own. Of sharing that life together. These things do just sort themselves out, but you would never know until you speak of it.

You are growing increasingly needy. There’s no other way to put it. You’re fucking dying. The heat of the dry, punishing Australian summer is starting to get to you, even with how skimpy your attire has gotten, and having him around twenty-four seven is starting to feel more like divine punishment than intervention. You were wrong all along: Oscar is not an angel, but a demon sent to terrorise you all your life until you give in and the Devil can steal your soul for all of eternity.

He works out every other day. That’s at least three days where he’ll disappear into another room in the afternoon for hours, slips right out just to slip into the bathroom, and then waltz back into the living room as if nothing has happened. But something has happened.

Oscar has a very basic wardrobe at home. He likes his soft, mild colours—dark greys and soft whites, beige tones, navy and olives… It’s very on brand for him, yes. And here he is again, today, emerging from the bathroom, a cloud of steam following him out the door as he runs a hand through his slightly damp hair. He’s wearing a crisp heather grey t-shirt, fresh from the pile of laundry you’d folded yesterday. The sleeves can barely withstand the size of his biceps; he’s just gotten new dumbbells in. And god, the smell of his skin, the musk of him mixed with the soft clean scent of soap still radiating off of him. It’s like crisp hot white bedsheets, fresh out the dryer, already crumpling under the weight of two lovers, bodies sticky from tangling into each other; like soft detergent left out in the garden, where the grass is freshly cut, and the warm sun hits your skin.

This is as close to a primal urge as it will ever get for you. The first few times you could just tell yourself to look away, but now the smell of him is unavoidable, overwhelms your senses, and lights your entire body on fire. You stick your nose into your book the entire time and pray he goes away. Oscar retreats into the kitchen and wonders if your book is really so good that you’d be that engrossed by it. He’ll have to start reading again soon.

“The worst thing a woman can do,” you say, hand in the air with great feeling, “is be cut down in her prime by a man.”

Three beers in and you’re starting up your great tirade already. Oscar watches with an amused smile as he sits on the grass, green Peroni bottle in hand. “I know it sounds so pathetic and untrue, but it is true,” you continue, pacing back and forth with a giggle. “It’s true! I’m so much better off now. No offence, Osc, you’re one of the good ones.”

“I’m very flattered.”

“You should be,” you nod.

He reaches over and grabs a fresh beer from the esky, flicks the cap off with the belt he’s taken off, and hands it to you. You thank him; “just trying to stay in your good graces, missy,” he chuckles.

You sigh, taking a swig of it as you look up to the sky. “Frankly, I’m glad that part of my life is over already,” you say. “I’m not happy to admit it, but for a long time, I had just thought of myself as undesirable. Invisible.”

Oscar furrows his eyebrows with great concern, an ocean tide of emotion threatening to wash over him. “Impossible.”

“Possible,” you nod, with a bitter smile that’s less regretful than accepting of your past. “You know. Surely you remember.”

Of course he does. He remembers every little thing, because they’re not little to him. He remembers it all, how he’d scare off sleazy, drunken boys from approaching you at parties. Even after he graduated, the threat remained: you mess with her, you mess with Oscar Piastri, the F1 big shot. Boys never looked your way because of that; he used to hold you by the end of the party, sitting on the porch of whatever house you’re at, you latching onto him in your drunken half-slumber, both of you silently wallowing in your desires. Drowning, suffocating in each other’s warmth. Then he’d stay over at your house and wait until your brother fell asleep to press his ear against the wall, listening to your muffled sobbing. You were always too eager to suffer alone, to make a martyr of yourself and accept the cards you had been dealt.

But you stand tall now, a soft smile on your face suggesting a great deal of growth. It’s what he’s always found so beautiful in you. Beauty, he thinks, lies in the spirit, an ability to have infinite love and bliss in the face of the frustrations of one’s life. You are a complete soul, whole in ways he may never be, capable of learning to love over and over again and of light-heartedness in the face of turmoil. He knows he cannot truly achieve this because you are his Achilles’ heal. He cannot bear to think of you off on your own without him, doing things with other slimy ratty boys, going places he may never know of. Having a life without him in it. Oscar frowns; had he been too selfish in denying you all your opportunities? You had graduated high school without losing your virginity, without ever being in a relationship, and he wasn’t sure your first kiss would even count as a kiss. He can’t imagine how much that must’ve crushed you—and he was away, far away on his stupid little racing circuits instead of being at home, comforting you, as he should’ve been.

You wave it all off, as if you could hear his thoughts. “Well, I’ve done all of it now anyway, and I’m happy to report that it’s not for me.”

He cocks up an eyebrow. “And what exactly is ‘it,’ Tiny?”

“The hookup thing,” you shrug.

Oscar’s chest feels like it could explode; cold flashes wash all over him. “Oh?”

You playfully shush him. “Don’t tell my family, okay?” you chuckle. “But, yes. I tried it. It was good, until it wasn’t. Very quickly I realised I’m kinda, like, spiritually forty. I need to stretch in the mornings and tuck in by eleven.”

“And kick-ons aren’t until at least one,” he tuts. “You’re always been a sleepy girl.”

“That is true,” you nod, taking another sip of your Peroni. “Anyway, it was worth it, at the very least just to get it all out of my system. I’m very comfortably single now.”

The sky is darker than it should be. The sun has already tucked itself away, and it’s not even evening time yet. “You know, it’s so cliché,” you continue. “That Sally Rooney quote, it’s just like that. I went to uni and got pretty. And all of a sudden men saw me—I mean, I was pretty much invisible before. Before in school, when you and my brother were still around, guys used to do this stupid, horrible thing where they wouldn’t speak to me, they’d just speak to you instead. Even when the topic was about me. Well, no one knows I grew up with Oscar Piastri when I’m at ANU. I’m just me, and I’ve got a nice haircut and a decent rack of tits. And they see me, they see me now and I realise now that they’re all just sort of stupid. I’m very sorry, Oscar, but boys are stupid.”

“No need to apologise,” he snickers softly. It makes you smile a little wider. “But surely they were not all so bad?”

“No, I really don’t know how to pick ‘em. They really were all that bad,” you chuckle, eyes creasing as your cheeks push up in laughter. “Think the best one might’ve been the guy I lost my virginity to.”

Oscar’s eyes widen. He hums, pretends to be normal about it. “Tell me more,” he says.

You nod and oblige. “It was early in the school year. I went on four dates with him,” you start. “He seemed right on paper. Double major, worked for a diplomat, spoke two languages and was well-travelled. Maybe a bit pedestrian in his taste in music and films, but it didn’t bother me so much. We talked okay. He knew what to do, how to be courteous, held doors open and shit—I didn’t know what the whole dating thing was meant to be like, and I was easily impressed. He took me back to his after the fourth date and we listened to his vinyls: corny 70s Greatest Hit compilations and his favourite Kanye albums.”

You take a break, pulling out a thing of lip balm and unscrewing the cap before squeezing it out. “He told me he used to take ballroom lessons for some weird high school thing he did, and he twirled me in his arms, and it made me feel so light and small and girlish that I felt like I was floating.” Your finger spreads the balm over your lips, the feeling cool and tingly on your skin. “He told me I was funny. He kissed me, and his stubble was so sharp and gritty against my skin that it gave me traction acne the day after. He held my hand the whole time. He was an awful kisser. Just kept jamming his tongue in. But it was sweet enough. No one’s first time is good, anyway.”

Oscar tries to swallows down the lump stuck in his throat. His fingers and toes are tingling, chest tight and contracting still. You take another swig. “I’ve had too many of these,” you say.

“You’ve had three, Tiny.”

“That’s more than enough for me,” you shrug, yawning as you set the bottle down on the wooden table outside in your garden. “I think I’d better fuck off to bed now. Sleep tight, Osc.”

He doesn’t sleep in your brother’s bed that night. No, he takes out the spare mattress again and drapes the spare velvet blanket over himself, because he could never forgive himself if he jerked off in his best friend’s bed to the thought of his best friend’s sister. No, there would be no good excuse for that, but tonight is one of those nights where a man simply cannot hold himself back anymore. The alcohol is still burning in his stomach; when Oscar shuts his eyes, all he can see is these elaborate images crafted by his mind’s eye of you, placed in all the scenarios you’d described to him, only replacing that dirty fucker was him, being so gentle and delicate and loving, just how you deserve it. It should have been him there instead to do it all right; it is true that losing one’s virginity is often an awkward affair, his own experience was no less lousy, but if anyone were to have a perfect instance of it it should be you. Oscar can see it all now, how he’d go about it. Holding onto your soft curves as he pushes himself in slowly, the little gasps that would escape your honey-sweet mouth, so warm and wet on his lips. He would die happy, he thinks to himself, as his hand roughly palms his length, hair dampening from sweat in the blistering summer night heat. Cicadas sing outside his window; he heaves wildly, chest rising and falling dramatically as his hand gets slicker with each stroke. He had no idea he could even leak that much.

Thank god you’re sound asleep. He grips tightly onto the soft blanket, balling it in his fist as his eyes shut again tightly, the guttural noise he lets out much louder than he intended. Then Oscar collapses; his limbs go slack, heart beating out of his chest still as he lets out a long, drawn-out sigh, hand now sticky with his spent. The mattress is damp with his sweat. If he wasn’t before, he’s royally fucked now.

Your parents called; they’ll be home on Christmas Eve, but only in the afternoon, and they’re picking your brother up as well. Which means the two of you have some shopping to do; the house should be looking festive in time for their arrival. Oscar pushes the shopping cart, following you deep into the maze that is Kmart. He helps you haul the Christmas tree box in and out of his car. And he watches as you pull its branches down, giving it shape before littering it with baubles and tinsel. And when it comes time to finish the tree, you look him with bright eyes. He smiled at you, takes the Angel Gabriel out of your hands and places it on top of the tree carefully. You put on your silly little Santa hats and poorly bake gingerbread men.

You never end up throwing the rager Oscar jokingly suggested, but you do hold a small get-together after running into some old schoolmates at the shops. So it turns out that a few girls you used to do drama class with are in town, and of course anyone Oscar invites is going to show up—he’s Oscar fucking Piastri—so here you are, with a decent turnout of people currently congregated in the back garden and the living room. You’re thankful enough of them showed up on such short notice, with Christmas Eve only a few days away, and you’re thankful everyone seems to have gotten more civil and mature since you’ve left school.

The doorbell rings more than once, and you peel yourself off of the couch to go answer it, Balter tinnie in hand now that you’re all out of Peronis. Your eyes widen once you fling the door open, revealing a familiar face, standing with a smile on his face and a couple guys behind him.

“Surprise,” Jack chuckles.

“Doohan in the flesh,” you quip with a smile. “You cheeky boy. Since when were you in town?”

“Since yesterday,” he shrugs, and the guys behind him file past you into the house at the sight of some of their mates. “Heard you were throwing a thing with Big Shot Oscar. Hope you don’t mind that I’m crashing—I come bearing gifts.”

You shake your head. “Of course not, no, I’m glad to see you,” you say, though you sigh at the sight of the twelve-pack he’s got in his hands. “Mate, Strong Zero? It’s not that kind of party.”

“Some of us can handle our liquor,” Jack laughs, putting the pack in your arms before smoothing his hair back. “Don’t spoil the fun for the rest of us.”

You roll your eyes, turning your back to him as you walk down the hallway back to the kitchen. “Congratulations, by the way,” I say. “I’m glad to see two of our finest graduates succeeding.”

“I can tell. You’re beaming, clearly,” he jokes, following you in. “It was never in doubt for Oscar, anyway, so I think I deserve a bigger congratulations for making it, no?”

You peel apart the drink packaging, the tins of drink coming loose on the kitchen counter. “Let me get this straight: you want me to be more proud of you for being a worse driver than Oscar?”

“That’s not what I said.”

“I’m just repeating your words, Jack-Jack.”

“Never said I was a worse driver,” he snickers, shaking his head as he folds his arms over his chest. “You snuck that in yourself. But I always knew you were biased, so I won’t take offence to that, Tiny.”

You turn over your shoulder, glaring at him. Dramatically, he throws his hands up in a display of surrender, but your conversation is cut short.

“Well, well, well,” Oscar grins, strolling into the kitchen and approaching Jack with wide arms. “Fancy seeing you here, F1 driver.”

“Fancy seeing you here, F1 driver,” Doohan beams, dapping Oscar up before pulling him into a hug. “How you been, mate, good?”

“Nah, yeah,” Oscar chuckles, glancing back to you with a smile. “It’s been a splendid break for me. You been good? Didn’t realise you were back.”

“Yeah, just landed yesterday,” Jack nods, a hand on the back of his neck. “Heard you two were doing a thing, thought I’d be jet lagged out of my mind but nah. Wouldn’t miss this.”

You notice Jack’s a little taller than Oscar, who’s having to tilt his head up a little. “Appreciate you showing up, mate,” the older one says. “I’m gonna go catch up with some of your mates, but stick around, yeah?”

“Absolutely, man,” the younger one says with a smile. “Good seeing you again.”

Then Oscar leaves, fingers gliding over the skin of your cheek in passing, a gentle action of tenderness, as if to say goodbye wordlessly. Doohan wiggles his eyebrows. “What the fuck was that?”

“What was what?” you exclaim, eyes avoiding his gaze as you snatch a Strong Zero for yourself.

“That,” he presses on, finger extended now to point to where Oscar had put his hand on your cheek. “The little hand-cheek-look thing. The fuck? Do you have something to tell me, pal?”

You sigh, shaking your head. “Please mate, just be normal—”

“Don’t gaslight me,” Jack says, as stern as he can be.

“He’s been living in my home!” you gasp. “Of course we’re a little close!”

“Living in your home—”

“Not by choice,” you roll your eyes. “Just—my family’s all out of town right now. He’s kind of all I have at the moment.”

“Agh!” Jack groans, smacking himself on the forehead. “Genius move. Fuck, I should’ve locked you two in a room myself years ago—”

You put the tin back onto the counter and slowly turn to face him. “Excuse me?”

He frowns. “Oh, man,” he pouts. “You don’t mean to tell me you two are still doing the thing?”

“What thing?” you furrow your eyebrows.

“You know, the thing,” he says, eyes innocent and wide as if it is the most obvious thing in the world. “The weird game you two play. I thought you guys would have gotten over it already.”

Your breath hitches in your chest, making you stammer and go red in the face as your confusion worsens. Jack notices this. “What, you really don’t know?”

“No, Jack, I do not,” you manage to breathe out. “Please, enlighten me.”

He shakes his head, lets out a strange chuckle as he leans back against the wall, having taken a tinnie off the counter. “This would be funny if it weren’t so tragic,” he starts, grimacing. “Oscar used to push guys on the soccer team around for talking about you. He’d go silent whenever you were around and get clammy in the hands. He got weird whenever he’d even hear your name. And I’m sure I don’t have to list out your incriminating actions.”

Needless to say you’re taken aback by this. Eyes wide and blank, you look at him with shock as your mind oscillates between delight and horror, hand resting on your chest as if your heart needs the help. Jack sighs, and after a moment of tense silence he speaks again. “I take it that’s enough proof for you.”

“Why didn’t you say?”

“We thought you knew,” he shrugs. “And it wouldn’t have been my place to meddle, and also, it was kind of amusing to watch.”

You scoff bitterly. “Amusing.”

“Well, not so much now,” Doohan nods.

Silence fills the kitchen again, the chatter outside quiet against the deafening quietness inside. “You do like him, don’t you?” he asks earnestly.

You don’t answer, but all he has to do is look at your solemn face and see the emotions threatening to spill out of you. He comes closer, puts a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Hey. Just take your time, mate.”

You nod, but you hear Oscar’s distinct timbre in the distance, speaking rapidly to someone. You turn your head and see him standing in the living room near the couch, and then—like magnets—he seems to feel your eyes raking over his figure, and meets your gaze as his head turns a little. Suddenly you’re sixteen again. He’s smiling at you like he used to, so fondly and sweetly, all the way from another room. Everything has changed but this feeling is the same. Oscar nods his head gently, as if to tell you ‘I’m doing okay over here, and I hope you are too,’ and you realise he’s dropped out of his conversation now just to look at you. He has always done this.

The hard part is over, but you didn’t know until it was spoken of.

You sweep the crushed cans off the table and into the garbage bag, back starting to hurt from all the cleanup you’ve had to do. Thank the lord they all left early; you haven’t been able to enjoy yourself fully since that talk with Doohan. Since then his words have just been eating away at you the whole night, but you can speak to Oscar just fine, you think. You’re trying your best, at least.

“Jesus, have the lights always been this bright?” he says, and by the way he’s stumbling onto the couch and slurring his words a little, he’s probably more tipsy than he’d like to admit.

You shake your head, turning around to face him. The cans inside the bag you’re holding clank against one another. “Fun night?”

“Not particularly,” he says, eyes shutting as he throws an arm over his face, lying down flat on the couch. “Just, those fucking Strong Zeroes, man.”

“I told Doohan he shouldn’t have!”

“He really shouldn’t have.” Oscar groans, eyes shutting tighter as he tries to push his face into the couch, and you chuckle before going back to cleaning up, moving towards the pile of cans on the kitchen island.

“Don’t leave,” you hear him say behind you.

You turn around, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “What?” you say. “I’m not. I’m just going into the kitch—”

“No,” he whines quietly, muffled by the fabric of the couch. “That’s too far. Stay.”

You stand still, still holding the bag in your hand, visibly confused.

“We should always be in the same room,” he continues. “I don’t want to be away from you.”

You flush at his words. You’re not sure if he quite grasps the implications of what he’s saying, but you chalk it all up to his current state—surely he’s just a clingy drunk. You put the garbage bag down against the wall, approaching the couch as he pulls his legs back to make room for you.

You sit down. “Are you feeling alright, Osc?”

“No,” he replies, too quickly for your liking. Oscar shuffles back onto his back, eyes still shut as his tone is reduced to grumbling. “I had this really awful thought the other day that we’re so far apart. I’m off doing my races and now you’re off at uni doing whatever.”

You cock your head to the side, clearly about to protest, but he starts up again. “I just want to know what you’re doing all the time,” he admits. “And how you’re feeling. I miss you all the time, and I wanna know you’re okay.”

“Oscar,” you frown, putting a hand on his arm tenderly. “If you want to stay in touch more, of course we can—”

“No,” he shakes his head. “I don’t want to stay in touch. I wanna be with you.”

You pull your arm back. He winces, missing your touch. “Tiny, this must sound so crazy.”

“No,” you assure him, though you’re struggling to comprehend his words. “I just don’t know what you me—”

“I think I’m in love with you.”

Your blood runs cold even as your stomach shatters and explodes into a million butterflies that feel hot like lava inside of your body. “I know it must sound so crazy,” Oscar chuckles bitterly. “I know it must be so crazy…”

“No,” you shake your head. “I don’t think it’s crazy. I just, I wonder how you’ll feel in the morning.”

“It’s not the alcohol.”

He opens his eyes only to look at you, pupils darting around slowly to find you, the only soothing sight when the lights are still killing him. Oscar smiles a little at your familiar face. “I spoke to Doohan,” he explains.

“Ah,” you mumble, flushing. Of course he did.

He pauses a bit, tries to find the courage to speak again. He finds it in how your eyes seem to shine a little brighter where you’re sitting, mesmerised by how beautiful you are tonight. “He’s right, you know. I feel a bit silly, or stupid rather, like I don’t know how to explain myself.”

“Well,” you chuckle timidly, looking down at your hands. “I would have some explaining to do myself, too.”

Oscar smiles to himself. He takes a moment to catch his breath; he didn’t even realise he’d been holding it in this whole time. “You don’t know how happy it makes me to hear that.”

At his words, you look up to meet his eyes again, to see how he’s smiling now, and it makes your chest expand with warmth, heart pumping fast. “I’ll feel the same in the morning,” he says, sitting up clumsily now just to look at your face better. He doesn’t want to look away ever again. “I promise you that. I’ve felt this way since forever—I just didn’t know the word for it yet.”

Your eyes widen just a little more at his words; you don’t recognise the inexplicable feeling that’s captured your body, but you think this is what he means. The thing he didn’t know the word for. But you know the word for it now.

“I think I love you too,” you say.

Oscar lets out a quiet noise of relief. He finds your hand in your lap, takes it in his, and just holds it. You look at each other for a long while, taking in the details of one another’s faces. “You don’t look a day over seven,” you chuckle, and it makes him grin softly.

“That’s alright. Did you feel then how you feel about me now?” he asks.

“I think you sealed the deal when you helped me get up on my feet after falling off the slide,” you quip with a smile, and he squeezes your hand a little approvingly.

“You remember that.”

“The little things aren’t little to me, either,” you say, and his heart soars at your words. Oscar can’t resist it anymore; he tugs on your hand a little and pulls you into his arms, hands latching onto your waist as he holds you tightly. You fall into each other like magnets. It just feels right, like it’s the most natural thing in the world, but nothing in this world is truly given this way. You had been working for it your entire life, but you’re only knowing this now.

His lips hover over your cheek, and it makes you shiver, but it shouldn’t be like this. “I don’t want our first kiss to be when you’re drunk,” you tell him, pulling away from his flushed face. “It’s… You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this. It just has to be right.”

Oscar swallows dryly, but he nods. “You’re right,” he says, with a gentle smile that tells you he’s being sincere. “You’re right. Not like this.”

He pulls you in again, holding you even tighter this time. You feel his heart beating out of his chest against yours, his warm breath against your skin, the warm his arms keep contracting as if he’s afraid to let you go. A warm waft of air filters through the window, left ajar, and swirls around the two of you, bodies now entangled. Neither of you can find a reason to leave, so you don’t. You never end up cleaning the kitchen that night.

The sun’s starting to filter through your blinds now, and you know you have no excuse to stay in bed anymore, but you don’t have the heart to wake him up. Your brother’s bedroom is probably collecting dust already; ever since that night, Oscar’s been sleeping in your bed now, and you both sleep so much better with a cuddle buddy by your side. He likes to be big spoon, but he’s happy to hold you face to face as well, duh! Why would he upset with getting to see your face, eyes shut so peacefully in slumber? He likes to wake up before you because of this, just so he can catch a glimpse of you so soft and pliable in his arms, comfortably happily asleep, but today you’re the one who wakes up first, stirred awake by the birds chirping outside your window.

You try to slip out of his grasp, but he just tightens his arms around you, furrowing his eyebrows in his sleep. You try again and he does it again, this time with a grumbling noise that makes you chuckle.

“Oscar,” you smile, press a gentle kiss onto his forehead. “They come home today.”

“So?” he grumbles back, eyes still shut as he pulls you in, tucking your head under his chin. “What’s it got to do with us?”

“We’ve got to make them brekky, babe,” you chuckle. You press a kiss to his neck now, before deciding you can’t really resist littering them all over his skin. “They’ll be starving by the time they get here.”

Oscar makes a strange, hushed noise. “Well, doing that certainly won’t get me out of bed.”

You’re confused, but then you realise something’s been pressing up against your thigh, worsened by how he keeps pulling you back into his arms. “Oh my god, Osc,” you yelp. “Just from a few kisses?”

“And maybe a very good dream,” he mumbles back. If he were awake, he’d surely be laughing, pleased with himself.

“You dirty, dirty pervert,” you snicker, but you’re tutting at him in a way that sends a tingle down his spine, and your fingers inching down the trail on his stomach is making him shiver. “You’re shameless.”

“Yeah, but something tells me you like it,” he says, but he can barely finish the sentence before you tug at the waistband of his sweatpants, shimmying them down. His length springs free; your eyes beam a little too brightly at the sight of it, making him laugh.

“Someone’s eager.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve been dreaming about riding you into the bed for actual years,” you chuckle, long fingers wrapping around him. “You look delicious in the morning, you know that? All sleepy and dishevelled. It’s very sexy, Osc.”

“Ah?” he says, a moan disguised as a word. Your hand starts to move and he can barely hold himself back. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Your mouth is hovering over his cock now, warm breath making him shiver before your tongue makes contact with his tip, swirling all around the head in a way that makes his eyes roll back. “Holy shit,” you hear him mutter to himself, and you smile as you drag your tongue all over the length of him.

“Babe, I love the teasing,” he breathes out. “But I don’t think I can quite take it this morning.”

You hum to yourself, biting back a cheeky smile as a thought pops up in your head. “You know, you’re right,” you say. “We’re running on a tight schedule. And we could use something that saves time, so… if you’re getting head, you could give it too, no?”

Oscar’s face lights up at your words. “You wanna sit on my face? Is that what you’re saying?”

“I mean, if you’re offering.”

“Fuckin’ hell, any day of the week, missy.”

With that, he puts his hands on your head and pulls you up for a kiss that deepens into a little more. His lips are soft, mouth hot and wet; you feel yourself dampen a little against the cotton of your panties, something he feels too as his hands travel all the way down to your ass, fingers reaching past the fabric of your shorts inside to find the wet patch growing at your cunt. Your fingers hook into the waistband of both layers, tugging them off eagerly as he steadies his hands on your hips again. You turn around, and now Oscar’s got your pussy hovering right over his face. He think he’s salivating at the sight of it. Is that too crude? Jesus christ, it’s just so much fucking better than he could have ever imagined, waking up with you by his side, having the girl of all of his dreams with him now, eating your pussy first thing in the morning.

“You’re not so tiny anymore, hey? You’re a big girl now.”

You flush at his words. “Just get to it, Piastri.”

He needs no further encouragement, hands on your hips pulling you down to his face, tongue flicking a long stripe all the way down your cunt. You cry out at the sudden contact, and you realise very soon that he is very good at what he is doing, soft wet tongue sliding between your folds carefully, lips wrapping gently around your sensitive clit, hands gripping onto the meat of your ass, an action that signifies a clinginess you’d never know from how soft-spoken he is. He eats you out like a hungry man, lapping up the wetness that soaked your panties before eagerly. When you wrap your lips around his cock, taking all of him in until he hits the back of your throat, it makes him groan against your pussy, and it feels so strangely good that you keep throating him just like that every once in a while, just to feel him shift underneath you and thrust into your mouth a little. He wants to be gentle with you so badly, and he is, but he just can’t resist it when you’re doing that.

“Fuck, babe,” Oscar gasps out, pulling away as his fingers continue to rub at your clit. “If you keep doing that thing, I won’t last very long.”

You can tell by his tone he’s slightly embarrassed about taking such little time to get there. “We’ll get there together, I promise,” you say. “Just—ah!—keep using your fingers.”

He smiles, happy to oblige. This time he dips a finger inside you, tongue now swirling around your clit as his finger curls, finding that cushiony spot inside you that makes your back arch a little. There it is. He slips another finger in, tongue flicking fast against you, fingers pumping at a steady pace as you suck his cock sloppily, drool pooling at the base, fingers still wrapped around his length, lazily moving up and down. It’s all too much for the both of you, both moaning and whimpering against one another as your bodies start to get more and more sensitive, responding to each motion with a little more volume. Your back arches, his hips thrust; you know you’re both getting to that climax.

“Babe, fuck—”

“I know,” you gasp, a long mewl drawing out of you as his fingers, soaked in your slick now, keep thrusting in and out of you. “I’m—hah—almost there, too.”

He nods his head eagerly and latches his wet mouth back onto you, eating you out desperately as his hips start to move on their own, filling your mouth and muffling your increasing cries of pleasure as your eyes shut and roll back.

“I can’t take it,” he moans loudly. “Babe, I—oh my god!”

Just as Oscar starts to flood your mouth, you collapse onto him as your orgasm washes over you, leaving you breathless, body slack and limp. “Jesus,” you heave out, flipping onto your back off of him, swallowing all of his load down your throat. The sight of it makes him whimper. You take a good look at him; he’s got your slick all over his face, glistening from his lips down to his chin.

“Christ, I made a mess of you,” you chuckle, embarrassed, but he seems proud of himself.

“A souvenir, yeah?” He jokes, and you push his chest, rolling your eyes, but he pulls you into his arms. “God, that was fuckin’ amazing. You’re fuckin’ amazing.”

You pull the duvet back up over the both of you as you lie down once again, resting your head on his chest now as you look up at him with a smile. You wipe at his mouth with your hand. “There.”

“Aw,” he frowns playfully. “I quite liked it.”

“You fuckin’ pervert,” you say, going to push his chest again but he catches your arm with his hand.

“Don’t get feisty,” Oscar chuckles, shaking his head before pecking you on the forehead. “Let’s just lay here for a bit. And you know, I’ve been thinking.”

Your finger traces shapes on the freckled skin of his bare chest. “About what?”

“About you, coming to see me,” he says. “You know… I was thinking, maybe you could schedule your classes with me in my mind? You know, money’s not an issue. Transport, accommodation, passes, I can take care of all of that. I just need to know you can see me. Not for every race, obviously. But some of them. It’d mean so much to me, Tiny.”

You look up at him now, smiling. “Of course I can,” you nod gently. “It’d mean everything to me too, Osc.”

His face blooms into a smile, eyes raking over the details of your face, savouring it as if he hasn’t a million times before. “Then it’s done,” he says, bringing your hand up to kiss it. “You can’t escape me now.”

“Like I’d ever want to,” you roll your eyes.

Before Oscar can counter with a snarky remark, the door flies open.

“Piastri—seriously? My fucking sister?”

That’s the end! Thoughts? Comments? Suggestions? Leave em all in my askbox, and again, thank you so much for reading!

#oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri x reader #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x you #f1 fanfic

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niniwritesxo · 6 months ago

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‘will you let me hit?’

nam-gyu x fem reader —> pt.3 ‘goody like you’

(part two of ‘we’re teaming up’)

it’s been 2 days since the mingle game and you haven’t really seen nam-gyu since. which is good because you didn’t want to face him anyway.

ever since he rescued your ass you felt weird, did he feel bad for you? ugh.

the crazy thing was how you recognised him instantly because of that stupid smirk he always wore on his face.

9 years earlier

‘nam-gyu i already told yo-‘ you open your mouth to speak but he cuts you off, looking up from his book making direct contact.

‘noona..tell me, if i ace this exam….you know what never mind.’ he laughs at his own stupid idea, shaking his head.

you hated it when he called you that, you were like 8 months older than him anyway. it made you feel like a ancient woman.

‘hey! you can’t be like that’ you say grabbing the book in his hand so he would look up at you.

‘if you ace this exam?…’ you ask him genuinely wondering what he was going to say.

‘..will you let me hit?’ he asks with a smirk, his hand lifting up to fix his hair.

you let out a laugh as i hear his question, was he fucking kidding?

‘nam-gyu, you can’t be serious, miss park literally begged me to be your tutor, that’s all i am to you.’ i reply, trying to stay as ‘professional’ as possible.

besides you had a boyfriend, jaewon. he was a dick to you but you’ve been together for almost two years now and honestly you don’t know what to do without him.

talking about the devil, your phone starts ringing and you see the number id, it’s jaewon.

as you pick up the phone nam-gyu looks pissed, he knew jaewon from school but they weren’t friends, not even close. they fought last year over something so stupid you chose to forget about it.

he grabs the book out of your hand rolling his eyes, he flips to the right page and starts reading.

‘hey nam-gyu i have to-‘ you feel guilty leaving him right now because you didn’t even finish the paragraph but jaewon needed you.

‘yeah sure see ya’ he responded with venom in his voice.

he hated how you did everything for him, you would drop everything to see him, how fucking stupid? you were like a fucking dog. nam-gyu didn’t even like you that much but you didn’t deserve to be treated like that.

present day

‘how is that dipshit boyfriend of yours?’

you shoot up at the voice, looking to your right seeing that dumb smirk again.

‘married’ you respond sighing, finally making eyecontact with him.

‘wow really, when did he ask y-‘ he starts, trying to act interest when he couldn’t give less of a fuck.

‘to kang mina’ i finish my sentence scoffing at how dumb i sound

kang mina was like the queen bee of our school, she wasn’t smart, she was just really pretty. and i guess that’s what jaewon fell for seems like beauty does matter.

he can’t help himself but laugh at you, the way his hair would hit his cheek, his dimple would show. it all reminded you of the past.

‘holy fuck he didn’t marry you?’ he laughs.

‘and kang mina? fuck she was such a bitch’ he stops laughing and looks at you.

‘hey y/n, my offer still stands you know’ he says tracing little circles on your right thigh.

i remember having a conversation with nam-gyu’s ex girlfriend a few years back, she told me about his personality while dating. apparently he is a master at manipulation.

he had all sorts of tricks up his sleeve to make girls melt for him, it didn’t matter what he wanted, he always made sure he got it in the end.

i scoff trying to remember his stupid ‘offer’

‘your offer?’ i ask him foolishly looking at him with a annoyed face.

‘these games can get..pretty stressful, so if you want to relieve some stress..’ he starts again fiddling with his rings like a nervous teenager.

‘fucking spit it out nam-gyu’ i say impatiently, rolling my eyes at the man in front of me.

‘if you want me to fuck your brains out, you know where to find me’ he responds quickly, looking up at you.

and then he did it, biting his bottom lip. he did that whenever he got under your skin. you hated it.

you recognised it all too well, nam-gyu has always been a horny spazz and the look he gave you just now? confirmed he is still that same old guy you once knew.

‘get lost nam-gyu’ i scoff looking at him.

the man finally takes his hand of your thigh and decides to walk away, he turns around and walks over to the purple haired guy he is always with.

meanwhile you are still sitting on your bed, realizing you are squeezing your thighs together all of the sudden.

out of all the 456 people here, nam-gyu made you horny? what the fuck are you supposed to do now?

okay guys soooo i tried a different writing style, do you guys like it? :3

this will become a series btw! and there will be smut, (i know you horny mfs are waiting for it lmao)

#squidgame fanfic #nam gyu headcanons #nam gyu #namgyu #nam gyu x reader #player 124

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erenjaegerwifee · 1 year ago

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Summer In Pandora 🌸 Day 2 - One Bed

Paring: Lo’ak x Fem!Omatikaya!Reader

Warnings: MDNI 18+, smut, explicit language, p in v, orals (f receiving), jealous Lo’ak, friends to lovers, mentions of courting, passionate sex, Lo’ak feeling guilty and in love, sensitive Lo’ak, body worshipping, sweet aftercare

Word Count: 3.5k

Index: ma kalin - my sweet, sevin - pretty.

Disclaimer: All my characters are aged-up! If that makes you uncomfortable do yourself a favor and scroll, don’t bother reading or interacting with my account, thank you!

main m.list | event m.list

You decided to have a sleepover with your best friend and everything was going fine. You played board games and got into little arguments about how much rent you owe Lo’ak while playing monopoly. You played pranks on his brother while he was chilling out in his room.

Everything was seemingly normal for a sleepover. Your parents never seemed to care that much when you and Lo’ak would spend time together. They knew well Lo’ak was your closet friend and you liked being around him so sleepovers were not an uncommon thing. You both were never without the other growing up so nothing would change now.

Even though you have both grown into adults, both exceptional hunters and both single, it was never really an issue to be around each other. It’s not that you haven’t noticed the way Lo’ak would glance at your chest sometimes staring a bit too long. Or the way you would admire his chiseled abs when he would pull back his bow to shoot his prey when you were hunting. No, you were well aware of how hot he was and vise verse, but you never though it would be an issue.

That was until tonight when you crawled into bed with him after a long day and then some of your playing around letting your limbs stretch out into the comfortable blankets. Lo’ak jumped onto the bed bouncing you up slightly as he looked down at you, “Awe are you tired already eveng(girl)?” he teased you as he seemed to not be tired at all.

“You’re all talk bitch, when your head hits the pillow, you are gonna be out like a light, it happens every time.” you look up at him smiling at the thought. “Whatever...” Lo’ak replies while he lays down next to you, “Wanna watch some TV?” he asked you.

A couple years back, he had a TV installed in his room with movies downloaded on it for this reason specifically. Lo’ak never liked watching T.V alone, he always wanted someone to be with him usually opting between his brother and you, “Aren’t you tired?” you say with a yawn.

“No but I take it you are, are you getting old? You never go to bed this early” his comment made you laugh. “Oh Lo’ak, I’m just an adult, it sucks but at least I get to have sex so” you shrug watching the TV as he flips through the selections. Lo’ak pauses immediately he felt like his brain lagged, “Sex? You are having sex? With who? Why didn’t you tell me?” he started off and turned his body to you.

The TV now long forgot, the remote sits beside him as his attention is directed at you. The faith glow of light makes him look beautiful, his freckles shine in the dark but at the same time they don’t. You find yourself tracing the pattern on his face, something that was unique to the na’vi, no one is alike in this way. But Lo’ak was even more special with his extra fingers and toes. Some people may think he is dangerous because of his human feather but you like it a lot. Lo’ak has done nothing but protect you in all the time you have known him, not one day since you knew this man have you felt unsafe. Even though he can be quite reckless, he never has and never will put you in a position to get hurt, and it is not just something you know, it is something he has told you.

“With no one specific, and I don’t know, I didn’t know how you would take it. You never told me when you had sex, if you did, I still don’t know” you answer him. You lay in your back and turned your head to the side on his pillow looking at him. Lo’ak’s entire body faces you and his head is propped up on his wrist and he watches you, “Ok fine is that what it’ll take? I had sex with, you remember Nila? She was my first time, then a couple more chicks after from the Metakayina clan.” his words upset your stomach but you ignore the feeling.

“Well when you and your family when to the metakayina, I was lonely and it just happened, after that it never happened again” the sully family had only been with the metakayina clan for about a month. After they were attacked there Jake realized it made no sense, they run away from home is the sky people will find them where ever they go, he didn’t want to put people who do not know war in danger. So at least they decided if they stayed in the forest the Omatikayan are strong. They can fight for their own.

“Your moving so sudden Lo’ak I was very sad watching my best friend leave with the rest of your family that I love every much.” you try to explain but he stopped you, “with who? Who did you lose it too ma kalin? His voice was soft, almost a whisper and his gaze doesn’t falter, “Adrik, we went to a party and met up there and I was feeling a bit awkward and he stayed with me so I wouldn’t feel uncomfortable. The next few days he’d spend more time with me and he was sweet, but when he requested to court me, I declined, it was the day before you came back home.”

Lo’ak didn’t say anything, he just took in your words. Yours eyes started to flutter as you drifted away to sleep waiting for his response. Lo’ak watches you drift off to sleep right in front of him but his brain didn’t even process it. He admired your features but he wasn’t thinking about that, no.

Lo’ak was thinking about how you fucked someone else, his entire life he stayed by your side and the moment he leaves you fall into bed with another man. He doesn’t blame you though, it natural you were alone and someone took advantage of your kind and submissive nature. It was his fault, he should have never left you. Maybe then you would have fallen into bed with him.

Lo’ak didn’t mean to sleep with those other girls, after Nila he realized how much he really wanted that to be you and he regretted it ever since. When he left for the metkayina he wanted to take you, but he didn’t want to put you in unnecessary danger, no matter how much you cried for him to take you. That was the first time in his adult life he actually cried, it was because he left you.

Now here you are sleeping comfortably in his bed, looking gorgeous as ever after you told him he made you lonely, “baby no I’m sorry...” Lo’ak whispered, scooting his body closer to yours. You had already fallen into deep sleep but it didn’t stop him from waking you. His large palm rested over the blanket on your hip shaking you slightly while calling your name.

Lo’ak’s head came down to your neck, he rested his head on the pillow behind yourself and pushing his head into your skin meeting it with his lips. He kissed and whispered into your skin, “wake up kalin please” his voice was strained, desperate, “have to tell you something.” when your stir your body and open your sandy eyes you don’t see Lo’ak, you feel him.

His body was pressed up against yours even though he’s bigger than you, his feet almost hang off the bed as he finds solace in the feeling your skin, you listen to him sweetly ask you to wake up so he can talk to you, you feel his hands squeeze your hip but they don’t really move from the spot, only to shake you. You feel his breath kiss your neck, the coolness that settles every time he inhales and the heat you feel when he exhales.

“Lo’ak” you whisper and his head whips up to look at you, his body shuffles up so your lay face to face but he didn’t pull back to give you space, he stayed pressed up against you, “I’m so sorry I left you kalin, I should have fought harder for you to come with us, I am sorry” his apology catches you by surprise. “Lo’ak you do not need to apologize for that it is okay you are back-”

“No but it is not okay, it’s my fault you slept with him, your first time shouldn’t have been because you felt alone, because I left you alone, I’m sorry, I’m sorry” Lo’ak cut you off desperately trying to win your forgiveness, every pause in his sentence he kissed you on your cheeks, both sides got equal love he even kissed the corners of your lips at one point, it was like he wasn’t thinking straight.

“I shouldn’t have slept with those girls, I’m sorry they weren’t you, when I left, I searched in every girl for even a little sliver of you but no one was the real thing, I’m sorry you had to find comfort in someone else I promise I’ll never leave you again.” you take in his words, not fully processing but you tried to find a way to understand.

“Lo’ak want are you trying to say?” your voice comes out a bit mean but you don’t think anything off it. He does though, he pulls his lips away from your face to look at you, his ears are pinned down as he looks into your green eyes due to the dark room. Even though his are almost the same shade, Lo’ak thinks yours are so much more beautiful. The slight difference in your eyes makes it all the more beautiful in his opinion, he has never seen this color on anything in his life, no plant, flower or vine has ever come close to how beautiful the shade of green your eyes are.

You seem to finally process how mean you sounded and brought your hands up quickly too his face, his hands were still situated around your waist, and the rest of his body was still pressed up against yours except for his face and chest, “wait, I didn’t mean it like that, you just- you woke me up apologizing for something I have never blamed you for, I want to know the reason is all” you pull him closer and rest your forehead to his.

Lo’ak sighs into your touch, your voice is so soothing to him, he could listen to you talk all day. He closes his eyes and takes in your words letting them resonate with him, you don’t blame him, he shouldn’t blame himself. Lo’ak raises his head from yours and looks you in the eyes, “I- I love you; I was waiting for the right time to tell you but I don’t think any time could be better than this, holding you close to me, in bed, this is all I want for the rest of my life I love you” his words are nervous but you couldn’t have been happier hearing them.

“Oh Lo’ak, I love you too-” he doesn’t wait for you to finish your sentence, just pulling you close, kissing you on the lips. The action surprises you but you don’t push him away only melting into the feeling of his soft lips. You only break the kiss to get some air and again he tried to kiss you almost immediately. It makes you giggle how sweet he looks wanting to kiss you so bad, cute blush on his face as he looks at you, “Patience Lo you will get whatever you want, but first I wanna know what brought this on” you tease him.

Your hands run down his neck to his chest and back up, you watch him close his eyes feeling your touch and it makes you giddy, you’ve never seen Lo’ak look so fragile before, it is quite loving to see him relax with you into such a state, “I made a mistake, you shouldn’t have slept with him, I wanted to be the one to do that. I know it sounds selfish and you had every right to do what you did but I can’t help but feel like if I was still here, it would have been me”

His words make you melt, “It is not your fault. Do not blame yourself you can still make me yours; it was only one time and if I’m being honest the only way I got through it was thinking about how much I wanted it to be you...” you voice is soft, shy as you confess to him, you lean towards him and press a soft kiss on his nose.

“Let me make it up to you” his words are almost slurred and his blush deepen from the kiss. Before you could protest Lo’ak slide his was between your thighs flipping your loincloth up exposing you to him. You try to close your legs but his big body stopped your movements, “Please, I promise I’ll make you feel good, please let me get a little taste”

His words make your cunt gush, you hoped he wouldn’t notice to way you got wet so easily but it didn’t matter much when you gave into him nodding your head for him to touch you. “Want to hear you say it kalin, tell me you want me down here”

This man is down bad for you and you both know it, the thought makes you clench around nothing, “Want you Lo, make me feel good” your voice comes out as a softly but he hears it, not wanting to wasting anymore time he licked a stride up your slit sucking on your clit, you weren’t expecting it to feel so good when you agreed but damn he is amazing, you don’t want to think about where he learned to do this so well but it benefits you entirely. You whimper and feeling his tongue glide along your wet folds and flicker at your clit, it doesn’t take long before he throws you into your orgasm making you gush in his mouth. Lo’ak is reeling between your thighs as he shoves his head in deeps almost disappearing from your view when you clench on his tongue repeatedly, he doesn’t waste a drop.

When he licks you clean, he raises his head panting, his lower face is messed up with your essence making you turn your head from him shying away. Lo’ak chuckles as he watches you blush and bite on your middle finger glancing at him. He kisses and sucks his way up your body leaving marks on your thighs, hips, abdomen until he makes it to your covered chest.

“Can I take it off please?” his voice is so sweet but you let him do it anyways. He wastes no time getting you naked after he got your verbal confirmation. Lo’ak takes a minute to admire your bare body before him, his hands run up and down your slim, sexy waist thinking about how soft your skin is, how amazing you look in the dimly lit room, he sees everything so clearly as if the sun was shining down on you. Thats a thought, imagine having you sprawled out naked in the forest taking his cock, he can’t wait for all the fun that comes with being in love with you.

He snaps out of his thoughts when your hand reaches down to palm him in his loincloth noticing the obvious bulge. Lo’ak groans when his feels your hand squeeze him, “wanna make you feel good too Lo” you bite your lip looking at his strong figure above you, your voice was soft but not a whisper you wanted him to hear how much you wanted to please him and he certainly did.

“Fuck baby, you’re just perfect aren’t you, wanna suck on my cock for me to feel good...Eywa you really are fucking perfect aren’t you.” he doesn’t move your hand from his covered cock but brings a hand to stroke your hair sweetly. This man just had a way of making you feel submissive for him, his hand runs through the strands of your hair petting the top of your head occasionally. You looked up at him with such lust, you want him so bad, “yea Lo, wanna be good for you” you say sweetly looking right at him.

Your words make his cock jump under your touch which in turn make you giggle while you look at him, neither of you have broken eye contact yet when he bends his body over yours brining his lips down to kiss you sweetly on the mouth. Lo’ak makes you swoon in that kiss, when he pulls away you raise your head chasing his lips.

“Kalin, as much as I wanna feel this sweet mouth on my cock, tonight is about you. Tonight, I want you to have everything you deserve” his voice is calm, soft but steady, you know he means what he is saying to you. Lo’ak removes his hands from you and unties his loincloth letting his harden cock bounce freely in the air. The exposure makes his hiss and he strokes it slowly.

You watch him pump his cock in his hand, he is huge, a little on the thin side but his cock was still thick and the length...he was so long you think he could possibly touch the inside of your belly button. He lines up his cock with your slit pushing in slowly, his gaze shifts from your tight hole taking him in and your screwed up face. He feels the way your small cunt stretches to accommodate him and he drops his head on your collarbone when he bottoms out, “Fuck kalin, did you- are you sure you’re not a virgin? You are so fucking tight” he mumbles into your skin.

“You-you’re so big Lo-” your voice stutters and he’s not even moving yet, you definitely boast his ego but you sound so good talking to him like that, he almost cums in the stop. He knows what you are trying to say, he understands but he wants to hear you say it, “Hmm, you think so sevin?” he raises his head to look at you watching you bite your lip and nod your head.

Lo’ak pulls back giving and experimental thrust and when you moan, he swears he hears paradise. Lo’ak takes it as a sign to set a nice pace for it, it’s not too fast but enough to make you mewl out for him. Your arms come to wrap around his neck pulling his down to meet your lips. Lo’ak doesn’t want to muffle your sounds he wants to hear everything, but he just can’t resist his sweet girls asking for a kiss.

When his lips touch yours your body stutters, you clench on him unintentionally making him moan into your mouth. Lo’ak quickens his speed feeling the way your lips no longer kiss him, your sounds travel from your mouth to his, lips touching sweetly as you tell him how good you feel. “Yea? Feels good? You feel so fucking good too baby, clenching on my cock like that, you’re gonna make me cum”

His words send a jolt of electricity through your body, his lips travel down to your neck sucking on the sweet spot that makes your legs weak. You whimper loudly into the air when you feel your orgasm creeping up on you. “Lo- Lo’ak wanna cum!” your voice is pitched another octave when you speak to him, “Cum baby, wanna feel you cum in my cock, doing so fucking good for me, such a good girl, cum for me” Lo’ak groans when you gush on his cock clamping down in him tightly.

He follows right behind you pulling out and aiming to cum on your stomach, but his cum shoots out landing of your naked tits. The cool air makes your shiver as you come down from your high. You watch him pant above you as if he’s so worn out now, he drops beside you on the bed reaching for his discarded loincloth to clean up your body. Not that he would be needing it now.

Lo’ak sits up dipping the cloth into some warm water then swiping it on your cunt, the feeling making you flinch but welcome the feeling when he pulls away and you’re clean again. You never thought he’d be one for such aftercare but here he was surprising you again.

You yawn cutely catching his attention and he crawls into bed next to you tossing the cloth aside. He pulls you close your back against his chest and he kiss your shoulder and neck whispering how good you did for him, how amazing you felt, and sweet compliments that would make you blush if you weren’t so tired. You drift off to bed in his strong arms listening to him tell you how much he loves you, you really couldn’t have felt more loved than you do in this moment.

🌸 I hope you enjoyed reading! I had tons of fun on this one! Please don’t repost, translate or copy my work onto any other platform

🌸Reblogs, comments and likes are always appreciated

Taglist:

@rivatar @strongheartneteyam @xylianasblog @inlovewithpandora @delusionalwh6re @neteyamsoare @nilahsstuff @m1tsu-ki @kylimarz @quicktosimp

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setaretjd · 2 months ago

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Mikey X Reader Three Stages of His Life

A One-Shot of Sano Manjiro from Three Stages of His Life:

Childhood Mikey, Vegetative State Mikey, and Toman Mikey.

The one-shot about his vegetative state contains spoilers from the manga. If you haven’t read the manga yet, feel free to skip that part and enjoy the other two without worry.

Part 2 is here(Future Toman, Manila Mikey, and Bonten Mikey)

The characters of Mikey and the others belong to Wakui-sensei from the anime Tokyo Revengers.

Other Oneshots:

Izana X You X Ran (Izana is ypur toxic bf)

Toxic Relationship with Members of the Bonten

Sukuna X Reader (Past Life)

Childhood Mikey

You had been training at Mikey’s grandfather’s judo dojo since you were a child.

Day after day, the two of you sparred together—pushing, falling, rising again.

And every now and then, you were one of the rare few who could manage to throw him to the mat.

That alone was enough to make his blood boil.

Being beaten—even occasionally—by a foreign girl who still butchered Japanese with a clumsy accent?

Unacceptable.

There were days when Baji, wide-eyed and half-joking, would pull you aside and beg for your "secret technique"—the one that could bring Mikey down.

And without fail, Mikey would snap.

Red-faced, he'd shove Baji away, yelling curses and storming off like a child denied his favorite toy.

But you didn’t mind.

In fact, there was something weirdly... satisfying about seeing him that worked up.

The day your parents failed to pick you up—too wrapped up in their business meetings and obligations—the one who stepped in was none other than Grandpa Sano.

Kind and gentle, he simply took your hand and brought you home with him.

Mikey didn’t say a word the entire time.

At dinner, he sat stiffly across from you, silent as ever, barely hiding the way he glared at your chopsticks—more specifically, how you still couldn’t use them right.

Shinichiro was warm, offering you more rice with a smile.

Emma, sweet as always, asked bluntly, “How could your parents just leave you like that?”

You had no answer.

Because deep down, you already knew: your parents cared more about their reputation, their status, their careers—than they ever had about you.

It was humiliating.

And the worst part? Sitting there in the Sano home, surrounded by a family that was everything yours wasn’t: close, warm, loving.

Later that night, you found yourself sitting in Mikey’s room—his old room, not Shinichiro’s.

Cross-legged on the floor, you glanced around at the shelves, the scattered manga, the half-finished model kits.

You: “It’s small, but cute... kinda like your house.”

He was sprawled on the bed, flipping lazily through a magazine.

Mikey: “Hm.”

Curious, you leaned forward and snatched the magazine right out of his hands.

You: “Oh my God, Manjiro—are you seriously reading this crap? That’s disgusting.”

His face turned bright red as he snatched it back.

Mikey: “Can you just shut up and sit there quietly until your forgetful family finally decides to show up?”

Your voice dropped, a whisper barely above the silence.

You: “They’re not coming...”

That made him pause.

Mikey: “What?”

You exhaled, long and slow, before laying down on the futon they had set up for you.

You: “They never planned to. They told me I was supposed to go to my grandmother’s, but... she doesn’t really want me either. She just tolerates me.”

You pulled the blanket over your head, trying to disappear beneath it.

A quiet puff left your lips, frustration leaking out in that one breath.

Then—footsteps.

The bed creaked as he got up, then the blanket slowly peeled back.

He sat beside you, looking unsure, awkward, maybe even a little guilty.

Mikey: “So... they’re—”

You (cutting him off): “Getting divorced.”

He looked away, muttering under his breath.

Mikey: “...Damn it.”

She pulled the blanket over her head again.

“I said you can sleep. I won’t bother you,” Mikey muttered, turning away and heading back to his bed.

The room fell into silence, broken only by the soft rhythm of her breathing, almost too quiet to notice. Twenty minutes passed. Mikey lay in bed, eyes open, staring at the ceiling, but all he could hear was her.

“Hey... [Your Name],” he called out softly.

No answer.

“You really asleep?”

Still silence.

He sat up slowly, then got to his feet and padded across the floor. Crouching beside her, he placed his hands on either side of her face, caging her in without touching.

"God... you're so ugly," he whispered under his breath—almost like a defense mechanism against the tight, unfamiliar feeling twisting in his chest.

But it didn’t go away. In fact, it pulled him in closer.

He leaned down, hesitating just inches from her face. Her breaths brushed his skin, warm and steady. For a moment, he just stayed there, eyes searching a face that somehow looked softer in sleep.

“How do people even do this...?” he whispered.

Then, with the gentleness of someone doing it for the very first time, he tilted his head and pressed his lips to hers. It was awkward, clumsy—completely unskilled. But real. One hand found her cheek, brushing her skin lightly before he pulled away.

Without a word, he laid down beside her on the futon, heart pounding out of rhythm. His hands were damp with nervous sweat, but he didn’t move. Just pulled the blanket higher over her and stared at the ceiling in the dark.

---

The next morning, Shinichiro opened the door to check on them and paused at the sight. [Your Name] was curled in Mikey’s arms like she belonged there.

He raised a brow and crossed his arms, smirking faintly. Huh. Maybe the kid’s doing better with girls than I ever did.

“Hey, Mikey. [Your Name]. Wake up!” he called, loud enough to rattle the windows. “Breakfast’s ready!”

At the table, conversation was sparse. Only Emma and [Your Name] exchanged words. Mikey sat in silence, stealing glances at her from under his lashes as he ate like nothing happened.

Later, when her mother finally came—furious about her not going to her grandmother’s—[Your Name] stood in front of the Sano family to say her goodbyes.

She hugged Emma tightly, bowed to Shinichiro and Grandpa Sano with practiced respect.

Mikey, hands stuffed deep in his pockets, stood to the side, puffing out his cheeks, looking away.

She smiled and raised her hand.

“Thanks for letting me crash in your room.”

He looked up, startled, then awkwardly scratched his head. Hesitantly, he reached out and took her hand for a second.

“No problem,” he mumbled. “It was... fine.”

Deep down, he was grateful—so damn relieved—that she didn’t seem to remember the kiss. But something had changed. He knew it. And from that moment on, he quietly decided he wouldn’t mind letting her win during training... a little more often.

That night was the beginning—the very first spark—of something neither of them had words for yet.

Vegetative State

(spoilers from the manga if you don't want to read skip to the next oneshot)

You sat down in front of Mikey just as Shinichiro spoke up, his voice light with nostalgia.

Shinichiro: “Manjiro, do you remember her? You two used to fight all the time when you were kids. She was the only one at Grandpa’s judo classes who could actually give you a hard time!”

Hope lit up in your eyes.

You looked at Mikey, silently wishing for even the smallest flicker of recognition.

But he didn’t flinch.

Didn’t blink.

Just stared at you with those cold, empty eyes—as if you were a stranger.

A statue carved in frost.

Still, you forced a smile and drew in a deep breath, refusing to let the silence swallow you.

You: “I’m sorry for showing up so late. You probably don’t even remember me... But when we were eight, we used to fight all the time. You never let me or Baji play with you, so I’d always end up running to Haruchiyo, sulking.”

Shinichiro chuckled warmly.

Shinichiro: “You’re doing great, A.T. Honestly, Manjiro and I have been waiting for you to come back for a long time.”

You nodded softly, your smile growing a little more real.

You: “Well... there was my parents’ divorce, and... other things. But I’m really glad to see you all again.”

Then Shinichiro turned to Mikey again, nudging him playfully.

Shinichiro: “You won’t believe it, Manjiro—I ran into her at a café! And there were tons of guys trying to get her number. I had to scare 'em all off myself. But you should’ve been there. You’re her friend, aren’t you?”

You laughed and, without thinking, gently placed your hand over Mikey’s.

His fingers were lean, his knuckles slightly bruised—just like they’d always been.

You: “Don’t worry. I can handle it. But I will get something out of you eventually, Mikey. We still need a rematch. I want to see just how much stronger I’ve gotten since then.”

Before he could reply—not that he looked like he would—Shinichiro’s phone rang.

He excused himself with a quick smile and stepped out to take the call.

The room fell quiet.

And in that quiet, you moved closer, laying your head softly on Mikey’s lap.

From below, your eyes searched his, trying to pull something—anything—out of that unreadable face.

You (softly): “Are you really going to keep pretending I’m not here, Sano?”

You took a deep breath, your voice trembling with intensity.

You: “I came all the way from America... just to find you. To find all of you. You have no idea how happy I was when I ran into your brother—it felt like I could fly from the joy.”

You shifted your head slightly on his lap and gently pressed a kiss to his hand. It was warm, rough with time, but still felt like home.

You: “I know I left at the worst possible time. But after you stopped coming to judo practice... that place became hell for me. And eventually, your grandfather told us not to come back either. My dad took me to America right after that.”

Lifting your head, you sat upright, staring at him with all the sincerity your heart could hold.

You: “Mikey... I mean, Manjiro—please try to come back to us. Your brother, Baji, Haruchiyo... we’re all still waiting for you.”

You reached out and gently placed your hand against his cheek, your touch soft and trembling.

You: “You probably don’t know this, but I had a crush on you when we were kids. Silly, right? We were just little... but I still like you. Even now.”

A small laugh slipped through your tears.

You: “So maybe it’s in your best interest to get better soon. Who knows? You might actually end up with a pretty decent girlfriend.”

But your voice cracked, and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t stop the tears from falling. One after another, they slid down your cheeks.

You: “Maybe if I say all this, I can quiet some of this guilt... for coming back so late. So please... just say something. Anything, Manjiro.”

You lay your head down on his lap again and sobbed quietly, your body trembling with every breath.

It was pitiful, really.

Just like Haruchiyo had said—he wasn’t the same Mikey anymore.

And maybe... he couldn’t be.

But even in the silence, Mikey felt you.

Felt the warmth of your presence bleeding through the numbness.

Your words echoed inside his chest, and his heartbeat grew unsteady.

He wanted to hold you—desperately.

To pull you close, wrap you in his arms, and tell you that your feelings weren’t silly or childish.

That he still loved you.

That he’d been waiting for you all this time.

But this cursed state he was trapped in wouldn’t let him speak.

Wouldn’t let him tell you just how much you still meant to him.

---

The next morning, on your way to school, a message lit up your phone.

> “his done.”

You stared at the screen in disbelief. Then, without thinking, you pressed the phone tightly against your chest—right over your heart—and burst into loud, uncontrollable sobs.

Everyone on the bus turned, startled and confused by your sudden breakdown.

You (screaming through tears): “I told you I loved you... How could you do this to me?!”

Your hands let go of the overhead rail as you dropped to your knees, your sobs wracking your whole body.

And this time, not even your own strength could stop the flood.

Thoman Mikey

Lunch at school wasn’t anything special—just noise, chatter, and trays clattering—but the moment you, Mikey, Draken, and Peh sat at the same table, everything felt unusually still.

It had been a month since you and Mikey started dating… well, were forced to start dating—thanks to Emma’s interference.

Honestly, if it weren’t for her, the two of you, with your ridiculous pride and awkward personalities, would’ve never made a move.

And it showed.

That first date? A painfully long walk with zero conversation. Not a single word. Just two people walking side by side like strangers lost in thought.

The second date? A movie night… with Emma and Draken tagging along. Halfway through, Mikey fell asleep on your shoulder.

Dates three and four? Barely any better. The two of you acted like robots, performing the motions of a couple without knowing how.

Since childhood, the only real bond you shared was judo… and Toman.

Years ago, Mikey had asked you to join as a special member—an honorary position beside him and Draken. Not because of feelings. But because he respected your strength. Your loyalty.

Feelings weren’t part of the equation.

Not until Emma noticed the way you looked at Mikey during his Toman speeches—the way your eyes lingered, hopeful and soft.

So she stepped in. Pushed things forward.

And somewhere in that push, the line between teammates and something more began to blur.

Only Emma knew what really started it all:

That night, when Mikey kissed you in his room—while you were fast asleep.

For lunch, you had brought your favorite dish, which caught Pehyan’s surprised attention.

Pehyan said, “Oh! What’s that supposed to be?”

You smiled, “It’s a dish from my country. I wanted to eat it today. Want some?”

He nodded, “Sure, why not—”

But the moment he caught Mikey’s scary glare fixed on him, he froze.

“Oh, uh… no thanks. I’m allergic to foods I’ve never tried before. I better go catch up with Pae Chin. Bye!”

And with that, he hurriedly walked away, leaving you puzzled.

You frowned, “Oh... that hurt my feelings.”

Mikey raised an eyebrow, “Why? You upset because he didn’t eat it?”

You shook your head, “No, it’s not that. I just felt like he insulted my taste.”

Mikey picked up the spoon next to your plate, took a bite of your food, and nodded approvingly.

“Tastes good.”

You beamed, “Aah, Manjiro, you’re the best!”

You ruffled his hair gently, making him smirk quietly as he chewed. But before long, he started coughing. Sitting up straight, he pushed your hand away.

“That’s enough. I want to finish the rest.”

You yelled, “Move aside! I’m the one who brought this—I’m the one who’s gonna eat it!”

Mikey caught your face with one hand and pushed your plate away.

“That’s not how a lady talks, (Your name)! Show some grace.”

You pulled your hand back, grumbling, “God, look who’s saying that—the guy who can’t even talk to other girls.”

He chuckled quietly and took another bite.

“Yeah, they’re disgusting anyway.”

Draken smirked but said nothing as he got up from the table, leaving you two alone.

Draken said over his shoulder, “Anyway, everyone flirts their own way. These crazy kids seem happy with theirs. Emma, let’s not meddle any more than this.”

From a distance, people would watch you and Mikey tugging at each other’s hair, letting out soft yelps of pain, but never really meaning harm.

Your relationship evolved so that Mikey would ride his motorcycle to take you to school. After classes, you two would head to the temple together for Toman meetings.

Before, some guys teased you for being the only girl in the gang, or tried to flirt with you. But ever since your first date with Mikey, no one dared to even look you in the eye when they spoke to you.

Mikey was truly a strict commander—and an insanely jealous boyfriend.

Many days, when you had fights against rival gangs, he’d call you names just to throw you off and keep you from showing up on time.

And when you finally stormed off angry at him, he’d ask Emma to come to you and smooth things over.

He always took you out for lunch on holidays, and whenever you started studying in front of him, his grumbling and shouting would distract you enough to lose focus.

You were lucky to have Sai Gi as a close friend—otherwise, you were sure Mikey would have done something so extreme that no other Sai would dare come near you.

He was exactly the worst kind of boyfriend—but also the funniest and most jealous one.

So, having a relationship with him wasn’t all bad or hateful. The two of you were made for fighting—and for loving each other.

Part 2 is here(Future Toman, Manila Mikey, and Bonten Mikey) 💞

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kittysoonie · 1 year ago

Text

Notice me

Ceo!Wonwoo x Fem!reader - 1.8k words

you finally have your boyfriend all to yourself but what's the point when he's too busy staring at his phone to even look at the ruby necklace you put on for him?

Established relationship, Non-idol au, angst (happy endings tho) and smut

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ

You’re seated in a crowded restaurant, as the laughter and excitement of other customers fill your ears. It’s a surprise that you don’t happen to feel the same way as them, it’s your first date with your boyfriend after almost three months and he won’t even look in your direction; his eyes glued to his phone ever since you both sat down in your seats. You play with the food on your plate, huffing out of boredom.

“Wonwoo…” You start and he replies with a hum without even looking up.

“You know the ruby necklace you got me last year from Greece? I’m wearing that today, how does it look?” You ask, half excited in hope that he would look up at you for once tonight.

You felt a little disappointed with yourself, practically throwing yourself at your boyfriend in attempts of catching his attention since the night started. But, to no avail, he replied without even looking up, “It looks gorgeous babe.”

You furrowed your eyebrows as you began speaking, “Wonwoo could you look at me? You haven’t put down your phone since the date started…” your voice becoming smaller by the end.

“I’m sorry honey, the deal is just about to close and if all goes well we can finally go on the vacation you’ve been planning for a while now.”

You could only sigh in response, you know that he’s doing it all for you. He’s loyal, handsome and so loving, it almost makes you feel guilty for stripping him away of his time while he’s so busy. You’re just thankful he’s even sitting in-front of you during such a stressful week but, there’s still a part of you that wants all of his attention to yourself.

After another ten minutes of silence and both of your foods being left untouched, you decide you’ve had enough and message your personal driver asking him to pick you up.

It's not like your absence here would make such a big difference.

In the next 15 minutes your driver is here and you slowly get up and leave and even if you were expecting it, you still feel hurt when you realise your boyfriend hasn't felt your absence yet.

You walk with your head down and sit down in the car, weakly asking your

driver to take you back home making sure he can't hear the silent sobs leaving your mouth.

When you reach home you immediately run to your bedroom, taking off your heels that you put on just for wonwoo and wiping off your makeup - it's all ruined anyways.

You check your phone after a while, once you've finished your skincare and are comfortable in bed as a way of getting your mind off of your awful night.

Wonu💗: ???

Wonu 💗: where did you go?

2 Missed calls from Wonu💗

Wonu 💗: I'm coming home, we will talk then.

And as you read the message simultaneously you hear the front door unlock and wonwoos footsteps inching closer to your shared bedroom. You quickly turn your back towards the door so he can't see your heartbroken expression.

"*Y/N?" He calls out resulting in no response from you.

"Baby I know you're awake, don't ignore me." He adds on with a sigh, reaching out to rub your back softly.

You hesitate a little before looking up to him, eyes swollen with tears.

"Baby talk to me...what happened?" He asks and you feel like crying even more about the fact that he's so unaware about his actions.

Did he not feel as alone as you? Did he not miss you? Maybe he found someone new?

All these thoughts crossed your mind and as if he could see the cogs moving in your brain he continued, "Don't worry yourself all on your own, please...talk to me" he was basically begging.

"All night wonwoo.." you started as he urged you to continue

""You ignored me all night wonwoo. I understand that your work is important and every day you work hard for me...for us..."' you add while he takes your fidgeting hands into his own.

"I know you had to clear out your schedule for today and I'm thankful that you did but, I guess I was just expecting your full attention on me. I even wore your favourite dress tonight in hopes that you would give me all your attention and i don't know...I guess I was just being silly." You finish as you carefully look up to see wonwoos furrowed eyes brows as if he's trying to make sense of everything you said.

Getting a little embarrassed, you take your hands away from him and cover your face, "ugh I knew it, it's just all so silly..I'm feeling like a high schooler again" and to that he chuckles as he urges you to look at him again.

"I'm sorry baby.." he starts as you look at him with watery eyes.

"'You're not being silly at all, you're right, I cleared out my schedule to be with

you, you're not silly for expecting my full attention on you. I'm sorry that I

haven't been here for you, I know you've missed me I've missed you so much too." You carefully nod as you take in everything he's saying.

"I promise, I'll take the entire next week off. We can go wherever you want,just us two, no business calls whatsoever!" He finishes with a small attempt of enthusiasm as you giggle while he pulls you on his lap - both of your legs wrapped around his waists.

And almost immediately, his lips are on yours and what started as an innocent apologetic kiss turns into something a lot more intense.

He swipes his tongue over your lips as you open your mouth, inviting his muscle inside as your hands reach out to grab the back of his neck.

He pulls away with saliva connecting both of your mouths and you look at him meekly, grinding yourself onto him in objection to the sudden loss of contact.

He chuckles deeply as he takes his glasses off while having a bruising grip on your thighs, preventing you from pushing yourself onto him even more as a wet patch grows visible on your sleeping shorts. You lean in to give him gentle yet harsh kisses on his neck that will most likely leave a mark that he will most definitely complain about tomorrow morning before going to work.

""Wonu.." you whine as your hands make there way to unbutton his formal shirt, which he immediately stops.

You look up at him with the best puppy eyes as he gently pushes you on your back, connecting his lips with yours again.

"Hmmm...need all these off.." he thinks out loud, pulling your shirt off.

"No bra?" He asks with a raise of his eyebrows and you whine in embarrassment, covering your chest.

"What's so embarrassing? Nothing I haven't seen before." He says with a smirk as he goes in to suck on your left tit while his hand plays with your right nipple.

"Wonu.." you gasp, "not fair.." you can barely even speak, "you're fully clothed and 'm basically naked." You finish with a whine.

"Well, we gotta do something about that don't we?" He asks teasingly as your hands once again make there way to unbutton his shirt, successfully taking it off this time. He reaches out for your shorts that he takes off with your underwear in one go, cold air hitting your soaking cunt.

You watch as he spits on your wet core and inserts two fingers in one go, erupting a loud moan (it was basically a scream) as he chuckles. "Aww look at my baby, she's been so desperately waiting for me hasn't she? Soaking wet.."he adds with a slap on your cunt as you buck your hips, trying to be as close to him as possible.

"Yes! Yes! Been waiting for you!" You squeal out as Wonwoo smirks in satisfaction. "Been wanting you for so long!" You add on with a moan.

"Don't worry baby, I'll give you all the attention you've been craving." You moan once again as he attaches his mouth to your clit, sucking on it like a starved man.

"Wonuu 'm gonna cum.." you furrow your eyebrows, focused on your orgasm.

"Cmon baby, be a good girl and come for me."

The nicknames puts you on edge as you come with shaking legs.

"Baby.." you whine as your hands are in the air, reaching out for your boyfriend.

"Want you now.." you continue as your eyes fall onto his growing bulge and he raises his eyebrows at you.

"Yeah? You sure?" He questions in amusement, thinking you would be too tired to continue.

"Yes! I waited for sooooo long." You whine.

"Well if my baby waited so long for me then who am I to say no?" As he lets down his boxers for the first time tonight. You're basically drooling at the sight of his cock as it hits against his abdomen.

"You're ready baby?" He asks and you enthusiastically nod your head in agreement which he chuckles to, "words baby."

"Yes wonu I want you, I want your big cock inside me pleaseee" you beg and he thinks he might just cum at this moment.

"Fuck...princess" he moans as he sinks into your drenched pussy, legs touching

his shoulder as you're basically folded in half. He thrusts, slow and deep into

you, grabbing your hand into his, leading it up to the bulge in your stomach."Fuck, you feel this princess? This is how deep I am into you." You gulp at the feeling of his bulge.

"Faster" you whine and he complies.

"Shit 'm about to cum wonwoo" you barely let out.

"Oh yeah? me too princess where do you want it?" He asks while sweat drips down his forehead.

Almost immediately you respond, "inside, inside Wonwoo please, need to feel all of you." And who is he to deny his pretty princess.

You both basically shake during your orgasm as he slows down, pulling out and you swear right now he looks like the most beautiful man you've ever seen.

He rolls onto his side, pulling you close to him as your sweaty bodies become as physically close as they possibly can.

"Feeling good baby?" He asks softly, stroking your hair away from your sticky forehead, a different demeanour compared to literally five minutes ago.

You shyly smile, "uh huh, I feel so good."

And even though it's dark you can basically feel all the heat in his body rush to his cheeks.

After a few minutes of silence he speaks up again, "I gotta clean you up baby and the sheets are all messy we need to change them."

You whine at the thought of moving from this comfortable position.

"Just five more minutes." You whine

"Siri set the timer for 5 minutes." He says with a grin.

"N00000000"

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ

Read more of my work: Masterlist

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beepboopkek · 3 months ago

Text

— Steady as Stone Chapter 1, A Study in Patience

Including: Zhongli x GN!Reader (for now) c/w: multi-chapter fic, will be NSFW later on, established relationship, non- $3xual BD$M, k1nk n3g0titation, fluff and smut, t0p!d0m!Zhongli, sub!bttm!reader, soft zhongli, reader is NOT traveller, reader has anxiety, gentle d0m zhongli (lmk if i missed anything) w/c: 8.6k

a/n: HALLO EVERYNYAN!!! we r so barrack !! life has put me through the ringer lately but cock waits for no one so here we r !! hopefully if this is well received chapter 2 will be out sooner than my other neglected fic (shh) anyway hope u enjoy!! sorry if the tags r a lil innaccurate im still learning,, i also kept my own self insert (whos dating zhongli akshually) in mind while making this but no features are described so go crazy imagining !

CONTENT BELOW THE CUT

It was a rare occasion—one of those few times where Zhongli chose to stay in with you, rather than spend his day off wandering through Liyue, making purchases, conversing with vendors, and reconnecting with old friends. You had long come to understand his love for these leisurely strolls, and though you were more of a homebody, you often accompanied him.

Late into the morning, you stirred his favorite tea, carefully carrying the pot over to the low table in the center of the living room. Zhongli sat across from where you stood, reading glasses perched low on his nose as he scanned the morning newspaper, one hand resting thoughtfully against his chin—a small, yet endearing habit of his.

The soft clink of the teapot being set down caught his attention. Without hesitation, he folded the newspaper to the side, reaching for his cup with one hand while adjusting his glasses with the other. A gentle smile graced his lips as he looked at you.

“Thank you, dear.”

No matter how many times he used these affectionate names, they still made you blush. Humming in acknowledgment, you lifted your cup in an attempt to hide your flustered expression.

Zhongli closed his eyes briefly, savoring the tea. Then, with a teasing lilt to his voice, he remarked, “This pot of tea is just as exquisite as the person who brewed it.” A sly smile tugged at his lips, his eyes crinkling with amusement as he watched for your reaction.

You ducked your head slightly, mumbling, “It’s really no different from the one you get in Liyue, but… thank you.”

Your voice came out softer than you intended, and you inwardly cringed. How was it possible to be this smitten every time he praised you? Something was terribly, terribly wrong with you.

Casual conversation carried on—you asked Zhongli what he wanted for lunch, whether he preferred to go out to Wanmin Restaurant or cook something at home.

“I was thinking we could stop by Wanmin today,” you suggested, idly swirling the tea in your cup. “It’s been a while since we’ve eaten there, and I don’t feel like cooking.”

Zhongli nodded, setting his cup down with a soft clink. “That sounds agreeable. Chef Mao’s hotpot is particularly good this time of year.”

“Hotpot?” You perked up, resting your chin on your hand. “That does sound tempting. But do you think we’ll be able to get a table? You know how busy it gets during lunchtime.”

Zhongli’s lips curled into a small smile. “I am certain we will find a way. Perhaps we could also take a stroll through the harbor afterward.”

You hummed in thought. “That sounds nice. Maybe we can stop by Third-Round Knockout and pick up some tea leaves on the way back.”

“A fine idea,” he agreed, fingers tapping lightly against the porcelain of his cup. “Though I suspect you’re more interested in their osmanthus cakes than the tea.”

You gasped dramatically, placing a hand over your chest. “How dare you call me out like that?”

Zhongli chuckled, deep and rich, and the sound alone made your heart stutter. “Merely an observation.”

Rolling your eyes, you shook your head with a small smile. “Fine, guilty as charged. But if we’re getting tea, we should also get some almond tofu for later.”

“That would be a welcome addition.” He exhaled softly, pausing as if in thought. Then, in a slight shift of tone, he continued, “However, before we finalize our plans, there is something I wish to discuss with you.”

His voice was calm, steady as always, yet something about the way he said it made your stomach do an uneasy flip. The casual air between you both seemed to still, anticipation creeping into your veins.

“…What is it?” you asked, sitting up a little straighter, shifting uneasily in your seat. That sentence never led to anything good in your experience. Maybe Zhongli had caught onto your sudden bout of anxiety; if he did, he made sure not to show it. “If it makes you uncomfortable, we can always stop.”

You nodded as you blew air on the edge of your cup, trying to cool the tea down, before taking a sip. “I have noticed a few things about you when we fornicate.” You choked.

Barely managing to swallow before coughing violently, you slapped a hand over your mouth as if that would somehow undo what you just heard.

Fornicate? Who even used that word anymore?!Zhongli simply waited, watching you with his usual patience as you tried to collect yourself.

“Okay, first of all—please, never say it like that again,” you blurted out, still recovering from your near-death experience with tea.

Zhongli arched a thick brow, looking completely unbothered. “Would you prefer ‘make love’?”

You groaned, dragging a hand down your face. “Oh, Archons—just—anything but ‘fornicate.’”

“Duly noted.”

He set his cup down and folded his arms—a signal that he was about to launch himself into a monologue. A signal you had long since come to understand. "You respond exceptionally well to praise, and, if you'll forgive my bluntness, you also seem to enjoy being given instructions. I've observed how you react when guided—how your breath hitches, how your gaze fogs up, the way you instinctively follow without hesitation. It’s not just obedience; it’s something deeper, something that seems to bring you a distinct sense of comfort… and perhaps even pleasure." Zhongli paused, taking in your wide eyes and timid posture. He sighed softly, realising he had to wrap up his side quickly or else he would scare you off. "What I’m saying is that I think you might enjoy a more in-depth exploration of BDSM. It seems to resonate with you on a deeper level, even if you haven’t fully acknowledged it yet. I believe it’s something worth exploring together, at a pace you're comfortable with. Do you know what that entails?"

You stared at him for what seemed like several minutes, but Zhongli, as patient as ever, only looked at you with reverence in his eyes, awaiting your response. You opened and closed your mouth like a fish out of water, trying to force the words out of your throat, but to no avail. “Take your time.” Zhongli spoke, the baritone of his voice grounding you. You shut your mouth for good this time, collecting your scattered thoughts as you tried to piece together a response. After what seemed like an eternity, you quietly spoke. “I—um, I’ve never experienced it,” you admitted, gripping your cup a little tighter. “I’ve read about it, but… that’s it.” Zhongli regarded you with his usual composed expression, though there was a flicker of something deeper in his gaze—curiosity, perhaps even understanding. He nodded slowly, unfolding his arms before speaking again.

"That’s perfectly alright, it is nothing to be ashamed about," he reassured, his voice warm and even. "Knowledge is one thing, but experience is another entirely. It’s not something one can rush into, nor is it something that should be done without trust and mutual understanding. If it’s something you’re willing to explore, I would be honored to guide you through it… but only if you truly want to."

His words sent a shiver down your spine—not from fear, but from something else entirely. Excitement? Anticipation? You weren’t sure, but the weight of his gaze, steady and patient, made your heart race. "Truth be told, it has always interested me," you admitted, your fingers tracing the rim of your cup. "I, um… I’ve read a lot about it in fanfiction, but I highly doubt it’s anything like the real thing."

Zhongli let out a soft chuckle, his golden eyes filled with quiet amusement. "Fanfiction, you say? While I admire your dedication to research, I suspect much of what you've read may be… dramatized, if not entirely inaccurate."

You groaned, covering your face with your hands. "I knew you were going to say that."

His voice took on a gentler tone as he continued, "That being said, curiosity is a natural first step. What matters most is ensuring that any experience is based on trust, communication, and a deep understanding of each other’s boundaries and desires."

You peeked at him between your fingers, your face still hotter than the Pyro Archon herself. "So… if I wanted to try, where would we even start?"

Zhongli’s lips curled into a knowing smile as he leaned forward slightly. "We start with a conversation—one where you tell me everything you’re curious about… and everything you’re unsure of." You groaned, covering your eyes with your hands again, feeling your skin burning with embarrassment beneath your fingertips.

“Do we… really have to talk about it?” you mumbled, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Yes,” Zhongli replied, his tone calm yet firm. “I would prefer to have this discussion openly. Communication is key in matters like these.”

You continued to watch him from in between your fingers, observing as he took a slow sip of his tea before continuing.

“As for desires and boundaries, those can be outlined in a contract—on paper. That way, there is no room for uncertainty.”

Your hands dropped slightly as you gave him a wary look. “A contract?”

Zhongli simply smiled. “Naturally.” He set his teacup down with deliberate care, his golden eyes meeting yours with steady patience. “To put it simply, BDSM is built upon three fundamental principles: everything that happens must be done with clear consent; there must exist mutual understanding; and finally, there must be a focus on both partners’ well-being.”

You swallowed, nodding slowly as he continued.

“There are different dynamics within it—dominance and submission being one of the most common. In such a relationship, one partner takes on a guiding or commanding role, while the other follows and submits to that authority. However, submission is never about weakness; it is about trust. The submissive has just as much control as the dominant, if not more, because their comfort and boundaries dictate everything.”

Your heart was hammering in your chest as you listened.

“There are also elements of sensation play, restraint, discipline, and psychological aspects that may or may not appeal to you. It is never a one-size-fits-all experience. Every dynamic is unique, shaped by the needs and desires of those involved.”

He leaned back slightly, his expression softer. “That is why a discussion like this is essential. Before anything can be explored, we must first understand what intrigues you, what you’re uncertain about, and what you absolutely do not want.”

You hesitated, processing everything he had said. “And… the contract?”

Zhongli inclined his head. “A written agreement outlining boundaries, preferences, and limits. It ensures that both parties are respected and protected. Think of it as a set of guidelines rather than a rigid document—flexible, evolving, and entirely up to us.”

You bit your lip, heat creeping up your neck again. “This is… a lot.”

His lips twitched up into a knowing smile. “Take your time, my dear. As I said before, curiosity is merely the first step.” You fidgeted with your cup, your thoughts swirling as you tried to wrap your head around everything. Zhongli’s explanation made sense—his calm, steady voice had a way of making even the most complex ideas seem approachable—but there was still so much you didn’t know.

After a moment of hesitation, you finally spoke.

“So… how do you know what someone likes? Or what they don’t like?”

Zhongli’s gaze softened, as if he was pleased by your willingness to engage. “Communication, first and foremost,” he said, chuckling as your face soured again. “Some preferences may already be known, but others can only be discovered through discussion and, if desired, gradual exploration.”

He paused briefly before continuing, “For many, this is done through a checklist—a tool to help identify interests, limits, and curiosities. Some things may intrigue you in theory, but feel different in practice. That is why it’s important to start slow and build trust.” You nodded slowly, processing his words. “And… what if I don’t know what I like yet?”

Zhongli gave you a small, reassuring smile. “Then we discover it together.”

You swallowed, feeling your face heat up again, but curiosity pushed you forward. If you were going to have this conversation, you might as well understand all of it.

“What about you?” you asked, voice quieter than intended. “What’s… your preference?”

Zhongli studied you for a moment before answering, his tone even, yet unwavering. “I prefer the dominant role.”

You felt a shiver crawl down your spine at the unwavering certainty in his voice. “Why?”

Zhongli’s expression remained calm, but there was something deeper in his gaze now—something knowing.

“There are many reasons,” he began. “For me, it is about guidance and control—not in the sense of restriction, but in offering structure and security. I take great satisfaction in learning my partner, in understanding their needs even before they voice them. A good dominant does not simply command—they observe, anticipate, and ensure their partner feels both safe and desired.”

His gaze held yours as he continued. “More than that, it is about trust. To have someone place their faith in me, to surrender control knowing that I will never overstep their boundaries—that is something I do not take lightly. I enjoy the responsibility, the care that comes with it… and, of course, the pleasure of watching my partner unravel under my attention.”

Your breath hitched slightly at his last words, a warmth spreading through your chest. You weren’t sure what you had expected, but his answer—so thoughtful, so Zhongli—only left you with more questions and a racing heart. You shifted in your seat, trying to steady your thoughts before speaking again. “About the contract… how detailed does it have to be?”

Zhongli gave you a small, approving nod, as if he was pleased you were asking thoughtful questions. “As detailed as we need it to be,” he replied. “Some contracts are simple—outlining only the most important limits and expectations—while others are more comprehensive, covering everything from specific boundaries to preferred forms of aftercare.”

His fingers traced the rim of his teacup as he continued, “The purpose of a contract is not to restrict but to clarify. It ensures that both partners are fully aware of each other’s needs and limits, so there is never uncertainty. It is not a binding document in the legal sense, but rather a mutual agreement—one that can evolve as trust deepens and desires shift.”

You nodded slowly, absorbing his words. “So… if I agreed to this, we would write one together?”

Zhongli’s lips curled into a small, gentle smile. “Yes. Together. Every line, every detail would be discussed, ensuring that you are comfortable with every aspect before anything begins.”

A flutter of nerves, mixed with something else—anticipation, possibly?—settled in your stomach. The way he spoke, so patient and assured, made the entire concept feel less intimidating… and far more intriguing. You sat in silence for a long moment, your fingers absentmindedly tracing the edge of your teacup again. Every word Zhongli had spoken replayed in your mind—his patience, his steadfast nature, the weight of trust in his voice. He wasn’t just offering you an experience; he was offering you a foundation, a partnership built on understanding and care.

The idea should have been overwhelming, but instead, you felt something unexpected—a sense of clarity. A slow, deep realization settled within you.

“I…” You took a steady breath, lifting your gaze to meet his. “I think I want to try.”

Zhongli’s expression remained unreadable for a beat, as if gauging the depth of your conviction. Then, his lips curved into something softer—not just a smile, but something deeper, something proud.

“Very well,” he said, his voice smooth and warm—as if he had known you would reach this decision, but had been content to wait until you arrived there on your own. “Then we will take our time, discuss everything thoroughly, and move at a pace that feels right for you.”

His reassurance settled any lingering nerves, and you nodded. This was unknown territory, uncharted and vast, but you weren’t navigating it alone.

The next step arrived quicker than you anticipated, it was only a few days after your conversation that he presented you with a small stack of papers—each page neatly filled with columns of words you didn’t entirely understand. Your heart pounded as you took the documents from him, fingers ghosting over the crisp parchment. You had known this was coming, but knowing and experiencing were two very different things. You were hesitant at first, to sit down with Zhongli and understand each and every kink outlined, but you pressed through your hammering heart and went ahead. He had reassured you that there would be no pressure, no expectations. So, swallowing your nerves, you sat with him and turned your gaze to the words. The columns of words were all written in Zhongli’s neat handwriting, clear to read and immediately identifiable. What surprised you most, however, was the sheer amount—almost eight pages of kinks, limits and instructions, all painstakingly handwritten.

A shiver ran down your spine at the realization. Zhongli had spent considerable time crafting this list, ensuring every possibility was accounted for. The thought of him, sitting alone and carefully writing down all of these things with that signature patience of his, made something flutter in your chest. You snuck a glance at him. He was calm, composed as always, as if he hadn’t just handed you something that had your face burning. Meanwhile, you had barely skimmed through the first few lines, and already, heat was creeping up your neck. Some of the words on the page were unfamiliar, some made your stomach twist with curiosity, and others—others had you pressing your legs together beneath the table.

Zhongli, noticing your silence, tilted his head slightly. “If anything is unclear, you are welcome to ask,” he offered smoothly, as if he was discussing something as ordinary as a grocery list.

You exhaled, steadying yourself. This was fine. This was just a conversation.

“…Okay,” you said, voice a little weaker than you’d have liked. “Let’s go through it.”

Zhongli’s lips curled into something small, something approving. “Very well. We’ll take it one step at a time.”

…It was indeed not ‘just’ a conversation.

Zhongli remained calm and patient through it all, effortlessly composed as he explained each term with the same measured tone he used when discussing historical texts or the finest tea blends. Meanwhile, you—well. You were a blushing, overheating mess barely holding yourself together.

At some point, you had abandoned any attempt at dignity, sliding further and further down your seat until you were practically sinking into the floor, face buried in your hands.

“Are you feeling overwhelmed?” Zhongli asked, his voice laced with the barest hint of amusement.

You peeked at him between your fingers, your face burning hotter than the sun. “Overwhelmed is an understatement,” you groaned.

The list was thorough—painfully thorough. Every kink, every act, every dynamic was detailed in that elegant script of his, with small notes in the margins explaining anything that might be unfamiliar. You couldn’t even begin to wrap your head around his unwavering composure— as solid as the element he governs.

“I—I just—” You flailed slightly, struggling to form a coherent thought. “You actually wrote out all of this?”

Zhongli nodded, entirely unaffected. “Of course. Proper communication is essential. It is important that you understand each possibility before making any decisions.”

You groaned again, pressing your forehead against the table. “I don’t know if I’m more impressed or mortified.”

Zhongli chuckled, a soft little sound. “There is nothing to be embarrassed about, my dear. This is simply an exploration of interests. Whether you find something intriguing or wish to rule it out, every reaction is valid.”

Easy for him to say—he wasn’t the one barely holding onto their composure.

You took a slow, deep breath, willing yourself to pull it together. “Okay,” you murmured. “I can do this. Let’s… keep going.”

Zhongli’s smile was subtle but unmistakably pleased. “That’s the spirit.”

After he’d explained each item on the list iin-depth, it was time to move ahead. Taking another deep breath, you straightened in your seat—or at least tried to, despite still feeling like you’ve melted into a puddle of embarrassment. Zhongli patiently waited as you gathered yourself, his golden gaze warm yet expectant.

“So… what now?” you asked, voice only slightly wobbly.

Zhongli gestured toward the stack of papers in front of you. “We will go through each item one by one once again. If it is something that interests you, or something you are certain you wish to explore, we will mark it with green. If it is something you are unsure about, hesitant on, or feel neutral toward, we will mark it with yellow. And if it is something you do not want under any circumstances, we will mark it with red.”

You nodded slowly. It sounded simple enough. But as your eyes flickered down to the page again, scanning the long list of kinks, a wave of heat crawled up your neck. Simple or not, actually deciding on these things was another matter entirely.

Zhongli, ever perceptive, seemed to catch your hesitation. “We are in no rush,” he reminded you gently. “You may take as much time as you need. Moreover, if you wish to understand what something entails, I will be more than happy to explain it again.”

You exhaled, nodding again. “Alright.” You picked up the pen he had placed beside the papers and, after one last moment of internal screaming, placed a careful green mark beside something that made your stomach twist in interest.

Zhongli hummed approvingly, his sharp eyes noting your choice. “A fine selection,” he murmured, voice low but undeniably pleased.

Your hand tightened around the pen, snatching the paper away from Zhongli’s piercing eyes as you looked at him from the corner of your eye, face burning. “D—Don’t say it like that! And don’t look!”

His lips twitched in the faintest trace of amusement, but he said nothing more, simply gesturing for you to continue.

And so, you did—marking red for hard limits, yellow for things you weren’t sure about, and green for things that sent a thrill through your body. With each mark, you noticed that Zhongli was also filling his list alongside you, albeit much faster than you. You had to remind yourself that it wasn't a competition. Zhongli remained patient, never rushing, never pushing, only guiding. And by the time you had reached the last page, your heart was still racing—but now, it was more with anticipation than mortification.

Once the last mark was made, you set your pen down with a relieved sigh, leaning back in your seat. Zhongli, ever composed, waited for you to collect yourself before he slid his own identical stack of papers toward you.

“We will now exchange sheets,” he said smoothly, as if this was a standard contractual agreement rather than an intimate discussion about deeply personal desires.

You swallowed, your fingers hesitating for a moment before you slid your own sheets over to him in return. The weight of the moment settled in as you each took in the other’s markings—your own list now in his hands, and his in yours.

Your eyes scanned over Zhongli’s paper, taking in the familiar crisp handwriting, now marked with green, yellow, and red. Some of the things he had marked green made your breath hitch slightly, heat prickling at your skin. Others, especially the ones marked yellow, sparked curiosity. But it was the red marks that truly held your attention.

Zhongli, who had already begun reviewing your own sheet, glanced up. “If there is anything that stands out to you, do not hesitate to ask.”

You bit your lip before tentatively pointing to one of his red-marked kinks. “This one… ‘Blood Play’, you marked it as a hard limit. Can I ask why?”

Zhongli set your paper down, folding his hands neatly in his lap as he met your gaze. “Of course,” he said without hesitation. “This particular act does not align with my personal preferences, nor do I believe it would bring either of us enjoyment. Boundaries exist for a reason, and I expect you to uphold mine just as I will uphold yours.”

His words settled something deep within you, a reassurance that this was truly an equal exchange. You nodded, understanding. “That makes sense.”

He studied you for a moment before his own curiosity flickered across his expression. “And you?” His eyes dipped briefly to your sheet before returning to you. “I noticed you marked ‘Switching’ as yellow. Are you uncertain about it?”

You followed his gaze, spotting the term he was referring to, and felt your face heat up. “I—yeah,” you admitted. “I don’t know if I’d like it or not. I just… haven’t really thought about it much before.”

Zhongli hummed in thought. “Then it is something we can discuss further in the future,” he said simply. “There is no need to make a decision now.”

The ease with which he spoke, the lack of pressure, made you relax a little. This wasn’t a test or a negotiation with strict terms—this was a conversation, one meant to foster understanding.

You nodded, a small smile forming at the corners of your lips. “Okay. That sounds fair.” You spent a long moment going over his sheet, your fingers fidgeting slightly against the edges of the paper as you took everything in. Seeing his interests and boundaries laid out so clearly made everything feel real in a way that even your initial conversation hadn’t. This wasn’t just some abstract discussion anymore—this was him, his preferences, his desires.

And the fact that he was sitting here, openly sharing all of this with you, trusting you with it, made something warm settle deep in your chest.

Still, curiosity won over hesitation. You tapped your finger against another mark on his sheet—a very clear green—before looking up at him. “And this? You marked ‘Kneeling’ as a strong interest. Can I ask why?”

Zhongli’s golden eyes flicked down to where you were pointing, and for the first time since this discussion began, you saw something shift in his expression. It was subtle, but the corners of his mouth curved ever so slightly—not quite a smirk, but something close.

“You may,” he answered, his voice carrying the same smooth confidence as before, but now laced with something deeper. “That particular dynamic appeals to me for a number of reasons, but primarily because it aligns with my natural inclinations.”

You swallowed, feeling an odd mix of anticipation and nerves. “Which are?”

His gaze held yours, unwavering. “As I mentioned a few days back, I find great satisfaction in structure, in guidance. I enjoy providing my partner with direction and watching them flourish under it. There is a certain intimacy in control—not as a means of restriction, but as a way of deepening trust.”

Your breath caught slightly, and you tried not to shift in your seat. How was he saying these things so effortlessly?

“I see,” you mumbled, eyes darting back to the paper, more as an excuse to look away than anything else. You could feel his gaze on you, patient yet knowing, as if he could already see the way his words were affecting you.

Zhongli let the silence linger for a moment before speaking again. “And you?”

Your head snapped back up. “Huh?”

A glint of amusement danced in his eyes. “You marked the same with yellow.” He tapped a finger against your sheet, the slight smirk still playing at his lips. “Are you uncertain because you lack experience, or because you are unsure whether it would suit you?”

You clenched your jaw, forcing yourself to maintain eye contact. “...Both,” you admitted. “I mean, I think I’d like it, but I don’t know for sure. I’ve never had someone actually… take control like that before.”

Zhongli nodded, his expression thoughtful. “Then it is something we can explore carefully, should you choose to. There is no need to rush—only to communicate.”

His calm, measured response should have eased your nerves, but instead, it only made you hyper-aware of the weight of his words. “Should you choose to”. The choice was yours, entirely, but the way he spoke made it clear that if you did choose to pursue this… he would guide you through it with the same meticulous care he approached everything else.

The thought sent a full-body shiver through you.

You took a shaky breath, nodding. “Right. Communication.”

Zhongli’s lips twitched, but he said nothing else, simply waiting for you to continue.

Your eyes flickered back to his list, scanning over the remaining marks. The conversation had already gone deeper than you expected, but there was one last thing you needed to ask before you could fully process it all.

Taking a steadying breath, you pointed to a specific line near the bottom of the page—one of the few things he had marked yellow. “And, ‘Breath Control’?” you asked, tilting your head slightly. “Why are you unsure about this one?”

Zhongli studied your expression for a moment before answering. “Because,” he said slowly, “it would depend entirely on my partner.”

You frowned slightly. “What do you mean?”

“I have no personal aversion to it,” he explained, voice even as always. “However, its enjoyment is derived from the response of the one I am with. If my partner finds it pleasurable, then so do I. If not, I would have no particular attachment to it.”

You blinked, absorbing his words. “So… you’d only be into it if I was?”

A single nod. “Precisely.”

Something about that answer sent another wave of warmth through you—this time, not out of flustered embarrassment, but something softer. Zhongli wasn’t just interested in his own preferences; he was interested in yours. In you.

You swallowed thickly, nodding as you let the information settle. “That… makes sense.”

Zhongli watched you for a moment longer, then set the papers aside. “I believe we have covered the majority of what needed to be discussed.”

You blinked. “Oh.” You glanced down at the pages, realizing that, somehow, you had made it through all of them. You still felt like you might spontaneously combust at any moment, but you had done it.

Zhongli’s voice pulled you from your thoughts. “How are you feeling?”

That was a loaded question.

“…Overwhelmed,” you admitted, rubbing the back of your neck. “But also… kind of relieved? I don’t know, I just—” You sighed, shaking your head. “I was so anxious about this conversation, but you made it feel… safe.”

Zhongli’s expression softened, and he reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear. The gesture was so gentle, so intentional, that it nearly made your breath catch.

“I am glad,” he murmured. “That is the most important thing.”

You swallowed, your heart hammering against your ribs.

This was really happening.

And you were starting to think you wanted it more than you’d ever realized.

A few days had passed since your conversation, and while the initial overwhelming fluster had settled, the thoughts had not. Every now and then, your mind would drift back to the discussion, to the words written in Zhongli’s neat script, to the way he had patiently answered each of your questions, to the way his eyes carried more warmth and love for you than anyone else, and his unending patience through all your self-doubt and anxiety.

You had agreed to take your time—to ease into things rather than rushing headfirst. But tonight, as you sat beside Zhongli in the quiet glow of your shared space, sipping on tea that had long since gone lukewarm, you felt the weight of unspoken words between you.

Zhongli noticed, of course. He always did.

Setting his cup down with careful precision, he turned to you, studying your expression. “You seem lost in thought.”

You hesitated, fingers tightening slightly around your cup. “…I guess I’m just trying to picture it,” you admitted. “What it would actually be like.”

Zhongli hummed in understanding, his golden gaze holding yours. “Would you like me to describe it to you?”

Your breath hitched slightly. “You mean…?”

“A scene,” he clarified smoothly. “A glimpse of what you could expect,”

Your heartbeat stuttered. It was one thing to read about it, to theorize and wonder. But to have him—the man you trusted, the man who made you feel both safe and utterly unraveled—describe it in his own words?

You swallowed hard, then gave a small nod. “Okay.”

Zhongli’s gaze darkened slightly, though his expression remained composed. He leaned forward just enough that the space between you felt smaller, more intimate. When he spoke, his voice was low, as smooth as polished Cor Lapis.

"Then picture this,” he murmured.

“You stand before me, anticipation thrumming beneath your skin. You do not yet know what I will ask of you, only that you have entrusted yourself to me for the evening. I take my time—watching you, observing the way you respond to my presence, the way your breath hitches when I step closer. I do not touch you yet. Not until I am ready.”

A shiver ran down your spine. You shifted slightly, pressing your thighs together, but Zhongli didn’t acknowledge it. He simply continued.

“When I finally reach for you, it is deliberate—one hand at the back of your neck, the other tracing the length of your arm, slow and measured. I tilt your chin up, making sure you meet my gaze.”

His voice dipped, the weight of those words settling deep in your bones. You could almost imagine him doing these things to you, almost see the way his golden eyes would bore into you, unwavering.

“Pleased with your obedience—I reward you. Perhaps with my touch, perhaps with my voice, whispering praise against the shell of your ear. I let you feel the restraint, the control. I give you direction, and you—” His lips quirked slightly. “—you follow beautifully.”

You sucked in a sharp breath, your fingers digging into the fabric of your clothing as your eyes remained trained on your legs. Your entire body felt like it was burning.

Zhongli watched you closely, his gaze flickering over your face, as if memorizing your every reaction. And then, just as smoothly as he had begun, he leaned back, his expression once again composed.

“That,” he said calmly, “is merely one possibility.”

You exhaled shakily, your entire world narrowing down to him—his voice, his presence, the lingering heat of his words still settling into your skin.

“…Oh.” It was all you could manage.

Zhongli’s lips curled slightly, a glint of amusement dancing in his eyes. “You seem… affected.”

You buried your face in your hands with a groan. “You think?”

A low chuckle rumbled from him, warm and indulgent. He reached out, prying your hands gently from your face, his gloved fingers cool against your overheated skin. “There is no need for embarrassment,” he murmured. “I only wish for you to understand what this dynamic might entail.”

You met his gaze, your pulse still racing. There was no teasing in his expression, no judgment—only patience. You swallowed. “I… think I understand.”

Zhongli tilted his head slightly, watching you. “And do you wish to take the next step?”

Your breath caught. You had spent days thinking about this, about whether you were truly ready. But after hearing that—after feeling the effect his words alone had on you—was there really any doubt left?

You inhaled slowly, steadying yourself. Then, finally, you nodded.

“Yes,” you murmured. “I do.”

“Good,” he said, voice rich with quiet satisfaction. “Then we shall begin a discussion for our first scene together. I wish to plan something that is not inclined entirely towards something sexual, since it is your first time. We can have this as a trial run to see how you like things. What do you think?”

You nodded slowly, your mind still catching up to the gravity of the moment. A trial run. Something meant to ease you into the dynamic without pushing you too far, too fast. The idea was reassuring, grounding you in the knowledge that Zhongli would guide you at a steady pace.

“That… sounds good,” you admitted, voice quieter than you intended.

Zhongli’s eyes softened just slightly, a glimmer of approval settling in their golden depths. “Then let us discuss what this scene will entail.”

He sat back, folding his hands neatly in his lap as he regarded you. “To begin, I want to establish a structured environment—one where you can focus entirely on obedience and discipline, without the distraction of intimacy. This will allow you to explore the dynamic fully before we proceed any further.”

You swallowed, nodding again. The way he spoke—so composed, so sure—only reassured you further.

Zhongli continued, his tone smooth and deliberate. “For our first scene, I propose a few simple tasks. One: posture training. Learning to hold yourself properly under my instruction, maintaining discipline in both mind and body.”

You could already feel the phantom weight of his gaze, the way he would watch you, correct you.

“Two,” he went on, “obedience drills. Simple commands that will help you understand what it means to yield—not out of obligation, but by choice.”

His words sent warmth curling through your chest. You had already felt it, the pull of his authority, the way it settled over you like a comforting weight.

“And finally,” Zhongli said, voice dipping just slightly, “endurance.”

You blinked, tilting your head. “Endurance?”

A slow, knowing smile curved his lips. “Yes. The ability to hold a position, to follow instruction without hesitation, to listen even when the silence feels overwhelming. Discipline is not simply about following orders—it is about understanding them.”

You exhaled shakily, processing everything he had said. It all made sense. He was creating a foundation, a structured experience that would allow you to explore without feeling lost.

Zhongli observed you for a moment before speaking again, his voice gentle yet firm. “Does this sound like something you would be comfortable with?”

You nodded, heat creeping up your neck. “Yes.”

His gaze flickered over you, assessing. “Good. Then tell me—would you prefer for this scene to have a set timeframe, or shall we go until you feel you have reached your limit?”

The question took you by surprise. He was giving you control over the structure, ensuring you had a say in how this would unfold.

After a moment of thought, you answered, “A set time, I think.”

Zhongli nodded approvingly. “Very well. An hour, then. Enough time to explore, but not so much that you feel overwhelmed.”

Zhongli’s voice drew you back to the present. “Then we will begin tomorrow.”

Your breath hitched. “Tomorrow?”

He chuckled, the sound rich and indulgent. “Yes. I want you to have time to process, to prepare. Anticipation is a powerful thing, my dear.”

You swallowed hard, heat pooling low in your stomach at his words.

Zhongli’s golden eyes glowed with quiet amusement as he reached forward, brushing his thumb under your eye. “Rest well,” he murmured, his fingers lingering for just a moment. “You will need it.”

The next day could not have arrived faster, you thought to yourself, as your jittery hands unlocked the front door with Zhongli’s pair of extra keys that he had given to you. The door unlocked with a resounding click and you stood motionless at the door for a moment, collecting your thoughts.

Zhongli had made it abundantly clear that you could back out of this scene at any time you felt uncomfortable and he would be entirely okay with it. But, something about seeing Zhongli’s glimmering eyes and soothing voice was driving you to at least try your best. Zhongli had instructed you to prepare—wear something comfortable, ensure you were hydrated, and most importantly, come with an open mind. You took a deep breath as you pushed the door open and stepped in, setting down your bag and timidly waving at Zhongli, who was seated on his usual seat. You also noted the lack of the center table and the stack of books next to the sofa he was seated on along with a pillow placed on the ground. “Come,” he said simply, noting how your mind was already wandering

You obeyed without thought, stepping around the sofas until you stood right before him— Peering down into amber eyes.

Zhongli studied you in silence for a moment, as if assessing something unseen. Then, he reached out, his fingers ghosting over your wrist, grounding you.

“Are you ready?”

You swallowed, nodding. “Yes.”

A small, approving smile graced his lips. “A few instructions, we will follow the tricolour dango system for this scene. When I ask you what colour you’re feeling, you respond with ‘green’ for good, if you are okay to continue; ‘white’ as a warning, if some discomfort is present; and finally, ‘pink’ to completely stop the action. Is that understood?”

You swallowed again, nodding in affirmation. Zhongli’s gaze remained steady, but his brows furrowed slightly. “I would like you to provide as many verbal confirmations as possible. It is important for both of us.” “...Yes, I understand.” “Good.” Then, he continued, his tone calm yet firm. “If at any point you feel overwhelmed, even after signaling ‘green,’ we will use our safeword. I trust you remember what it is?” “Yes, Glaze Lily.” “Correct. You’re doing exceptionally well so far.” You ducked your head at that, blushing as he chuckled at your reaction. He closed the book he was reading and cleared his throat. “We will begin now. Do you have any questions you would like to ask, or any other preparations you want to make?” You hesitated, your stomach twisting in anxiety at the thought of what you were going to say. You cringed, but decided to ask anyway. "Yes... what do I… call you?"

Zhongli tilted his head slightly at your question, his amber eyes gleaming with quiet amusement. “Ah. I see you have given this some thought.”

Your face burned, but you nodded. “I mean… I’ve read things. In fanfiction.” You hesitated before continuing, voice growing softer. “There are… titles. Honorifics. And I wasn’t sure if you had a preference.”

Zhongli let out a thoughtful hum, stepping closer. “It is true that certain titles are often used in dynamics such as these.” He regarded you carefully, as if weighing his words. “However, what truly matters is what feels natural for you.”

His voice dipped lower, more deliberate. “Would you prefer something formal? ‘Sir’ is a common choice, one that carries both respect and structure.”

Your breath hitched at the way he said it.

“Or something more personal?” He paused, a faint smirk curling at the edges of his lips. “I must admit, I have always been rather fond of ‘Master’.”

A shiver ran down your spine at the weight of the word.

Zhongli’s gaze remained steady. “But the choice remains yours, my dear. I won’t enforce anything. At least not now, for our first time doing this together.” You whispered a muted ‘okay’ as your skin crawled with embarrassment, but before you could spiral into your own thoughts, a firm voice broke you out of your stupor. “Kneel.”

Zhongli’s voice was steady, unwavering, yet never forceful. It was a command, yes, but one laced with patience.

“Slowly,” he reminded you, his tone soothing. “Gently, onto the pillow. Move with intention, and above all, be mindful of your own comfort.” You swallowed hard, obeying as you carefully lowered yourself onto your knees. Your movements were stiff, uncertain, and your skin prickled with self-consciousness.

You adjusted yourself onto the pillow, foam dipping underneath your weight, You placed your hands on your thighs for balance, your breath uneven as you settled into the position.

“Now,” Zhongli continued, leaning closer towards you. “Spread your legs—just enough to remain comfortable.”

Your face grew impossibly warm, and for a moment, hesitation gripped you. The vulnerability of it all sent your thoughts into a spiral, but before you could get lost in your own self-consciousness, Zhongli spoke again.

“You are overthinking this.”

Your eyes flicked up to him, startled.

His expression was calm, unreadable, but there was an undeniable softness in his gaze. “This is not a test. There is no right or wrong way to feel. I simply wish for you to be at ease.”

You took a shaky breath, nodding, and forced yourself to relax. Slowly, you parted your knees, shifting into a position that felt natural.

Zhongli observed you in silence for a moment before offering a small nod of approval. “Good. Now hold this position.”

You did as instructed, the weight of his gaze pressing into you like a silent force. It wasn’t uncomfortable—just new. Different.

“Tell me,” he murmured, “How do you feel?”

You wet your lips before answering, voice barely above a whisper.

“…Exposed.”

Zhongli let out a thoughtful hum. “That is to be expected.”

You heard the rustle of fabric as he moved slightly, still seated across you. “And yet, you are still here. Still listening. Still following.”

The words sent a shiver through you.

Zhongli exhaled softly, his voice a velvet murmur that wrapped around your nerves like silk. “You are doing well,” he said, approval thick in his tone—quiet but grounding, like a weight that anchored you in place. “Shall we continue?”

You nodded at first, but then remembered his earlier request for verbal confirmation. Your throat felt dry, your heart beating a little faster as you forced your voice past the lump in it.

“Yes… Sir.”

There was a beat of stillness. His amber eyes flickered with something—surprise, perhaps?—just for the briefest moment. But it passed just as quickly, fading back into the steady, composed expression you had come to rely on.

His smile softened, warm and reassuring, and he reached out to brush a stray strand of hair from your face.

“Good,” he said, voice low and fond. “You may use my legs for support, if that will help you stay comfortable.”

He adjusted his posture, sitting up straighter as he reached for the book beside him, flipping it open with deliberate ease.

“I am going to read now,” he continued. “You will stay where you are, relaxed and present. If anything feels off, you will tell me immediately. Is that understood?”

You nodded again, more firmly this time. “Yes, Sir.”

The corners of his mouth tugged upward ever so slightly in approval before his gaze shifted down to the pages in his hands.

And just like that, the silence enveloped the two of you like a weighted blanket. Zhongli’s eyes scanned the pages with the same graceful attentiveness he applied to everything he did. His presence, calm and composed, exuded a quiet authority that filled the room. You shifted slightly, careful to maintain your position, adjusting your weight against his legs as he’d allowed.

The rustle of the paper as he turned a page was soothing, almost meditative. There was something oddly comforting in the silence that followed—being still, being watched over. His hand occasionally moved, brushing idle circles against the back of your head, never distracting, only grounding.

“You’re doing very well,” he said after a few minutes, his voice low, almost like an afterthought—but it made your chest flutter nonetheless. “I’m pleased.”

You weren’t sure what made you more placid—his praise, the closeness, or the simple, deliberate rhythm of his movements. But you basked in it anyway, quietly proud that you hadn’t panicked or shifted away. Time passed slowly, though you did not count the minutes. The silence between you was never empty—it was full of breath and thought and unspoken affection. His hand would occasionally leave the top of your head to turn a page or adjust his posture ever so slightly, his calm energy keeping you anchored, a silent reassurance that he hadn’t forgotten you were there—he never would.

You stayed still, adjusting slightly only when your knees began to ache, always mindful of the position, of your breathing, of the atmosphere that wrapped around the two of you like velvet.

After what must have been the agreed upon timeframe of an hour, Zhongli gently closed his book and placed it to the side. The soft sound of the cover meeting wood brought you back to the present like a gentle chime. His hand moved to cup your cheek, thumb brushing softly along your skin as he coaxed your sleepy gaze upward.

“You did wonderfully,” he said, his voice low and warm, thick with praise. “How are you feeling?”

You blinked up at him, eyes slightly dazed from the quiet headspace you’d slipped into. Your body felt heavy, but not unpleasantly so. Relaxed. Tethered. You offered a small nod, followed by a whispered, “Good… I feel good.”

A rare smile touched his lips, one that reached all the way to his eyes.

“Let us bring this scene to a close, then,” he said gently. “You’ve done enough for now.”

His hands moved with care as he helped you sit up on the sofa, guiding you slowly to avoid any sudden discomfort. He handed you a glass of water, fingers lingering against yours in a touch that felt as intimate as any embrace.

Zhongli remained close as he took a hold of your legs, gently stretching both limbs as your knees protested from being locked in the same position for so long. As you winced at the feeling returning to your legs again, you felt a pair of lips on your knee. “You listened to every word, and you stayed with me. I’m proud of you.”

You felt your throat tighten with emotion. A breath caught. All of it—your effort, your nervousness, the fluttering thoughts you tried to push down—felt worth it just to hear that.

“You did not falter,” he continued softly, reaching out to cup your face. “You respected your own limits while offering me your trust. That is no small thing. I want you to know how much I value it—and you.”

You blinked quickly, overwhelmed, but nodded.

“I… I wanted to do well for you.”

Zhongli’s expression softened. “And you have. More than well. I am exceptionally proud.”

He helped you shift positions slowly, guiding you up with steady hands so you wouldn’t strain anything. Every movement was careful, deliberate, as though you were something precious—because in his eyes, you were.

“You may rest now,” he murmured. “You’ve earned that much and more.” You nodded numbly, mind still clouded as you were led to his bedroom. You barely registered how his hands moved with practiced care—helping you tug off your clothes, guiding you under the covers as if you were made of something fragile. All you truly noticed was the pleasant ache still blooming in your knees, the distant hum beneath your skin, and the warmth that clung to you like a second blanket.

He didn’t speak much—he didn’t need to. His presence alone was grounding, quiet and constant. The mattress dipped slightly as he sat beside you, brushing your hair away from your face with a tenderness that made your chest tighten.

Then, a kiss—soft, reverent—was pressed to your forehead.

“You did so well,” he murmured, the weight of his voice pulling you deeper into the warmth of the moment. “Rest now. I’m right here.”

Your fingers curled faintly into the blanket as sleep tugged you under, slow and sweet.

And the last thing you felt was not the ache, not the nerves, not the uncertainty…

But safety. Wholeness.

And love, quiet and unwavering, resting just behind the press of his lips.

#zhongli the man that u are #zhongli smut #zhongli x reader #zhongli genshin impact #zhongli x you #reader insert #reader x character #reader x genshin impact

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allfandomxreader · 1 month ago

Text

Back to You | 5

Pairings: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Summary: Eight months ago, you swore you would never step foot in Hawkins again. When Robin begs for you to come home for spring break, you find yourself agreeing despite better judgment. You’ve missed everyone, surely you could endure one more week in Hawkins if that means you can see your friends again.

Words: 7.3k

Part: 5/9

Warnings: Language and I think that's all

A/N: Only took 2 years and a teaser to get me writing again. Enjoy :)

Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist

You can’t remember the last time you were at the quarry. You stand still, under leaves that kiss the stars and with the toes of your sneakers too close to the cliff’s edge. The night is quiet and the wind is warm as it blows against your arms. You suppose the silence is why you’re here, to get away from the noise in Nancy Wheeler’s basement or to avoid Steve’s wandering eye when he thinks you won’t notice. Out here, you can breathe in a moment of solitude.

Even after the news broke that the body pulled from the water was a fake, most of Hawkin’s population refused to get too close. You never would’ve guessed that your neighbors were superstitious, but everyone seemed to believe the spot had some sort of bad juju. This left the area deserted and overgrown, making it a great hideaway for times like these.

You take a seat on the ledge, gathering gravel into your palms and watching it flutter to the calm water below. Your limbs begin to relax despite jagged rocks poking into your calves. After the stress of your homecoming and the threat of a new monster, it feels nice to let the weight of it all go, even if it’s just for a little while. Alone and with nobody watching, you can pretend none of it is real. You can believe that it’s only you, the breeze, and the weeds.

Behind you, a distant voice calls your name. You jump at the sudden sound, although familiar. Reluctantly, you sigh and turn toward the visitor, knowing your cover has been blown. Steve stands motionless, hands tucked in pockets. He has an expression you can’t quite read as his eyes lock with yours.

“Steve?” You call, but he doesn’t respond. “Did you follow me out here?” Your movements are quiet as you find your footing, wiping the dust off your jeans. With no response, your gaze meets the ground as you begin to walk toward him. You’re unsure how he knew where to find you, you don’t remember telling anyone you left. “Sorry, I just needed a break,” you explain, unable to look at him. Even after everything, you know he’s full of concern, and you feel almost guilty for causing him to worry. “I’m ready. We can go back now.”

When you look up, only the whites of his eyes stare back at you.

“No!” You gasp, knees bucking at the sight. It takes all your strength to keep you from tumbling to the earth. You dash forward, taking his chin in your trembling fingers, tugging at him desperately to wake him from his trance. “Listen to me, you have to wake up,” you choke, your voice barely above a whisper. It feels like all the air has been sucked from your body. “Please, Steve, wake up!”

The world has suddenly gone silent. You look around for anything that could croak out a song. Your Walkman is most certainly buried at the bottom of your duffel, still resting on the corner of your bed where you left it two days ago. You decide the only option is to drag him to his car and blare the radio. Hopefully, the worn and loved cassette is already lodged in the player. You crane your neck to peer behind him, expecting to see it parked haphazardly on the road, but you’re met with emptiness.

Without warning, you feel him lift from the ground. “Steve!” You wail, balling his grey jacket into your fist as he begins to float into the air. You try to grab hold of anything you can grasp, yanking at the hem of his shirt, a belt loop, even his shoelaces as he passes you by. You sob as the soles of his shoes dangle right above you.

“Steve!”

You lurch upright with a loud gasp for air. You kick backward across the carpet causing the knitted blanket to slip down your legs and pool around your ankles. The familiarity of the Wheeler’s basement hits you all at once as you take in your surroundings.

“It’s all right, it’s all right, you’re safe.” Your head snaps toward the voice you never thought you’d be relieved to hear again. Steve crouches beside you with panicked eyes and a frantic hand hovering around your shoulder as if debating on offering his touch. You pull your knees to your chest, bowing your head with your eyes screwed shut trying to calm your racing heart. “Here,” he whispers, swiping Lucas’s discarded water bottle from beneath the couch and gently placing it into your hands.

After a few warm sips, your eyelids flutter open. Steve stares at you expectantly, lowering himself to sit across from you. “Sorry,” you croak, voice raspy with sleep.

“No need,” he shakes his head, eyes searching yours. “I thought you said you weren’t having nightmares.” He frowns, unable to hide the sadness in his tone.

“I said they come and go,” you correct, stretching out your legs with a sigh.

“Do you,” his voice trails off like the words are stuck on his tongue. “Do you want to talk about it?” He sounds almost pleading. When you look at him, you can only see him hanging in the air, eyes rolled back, the scuffs on his shoes just barely out of reach. Your blood runs cold.

“No, not really.” You say softly, avoiding his gaze. “Nothing I can’t handle.” You force a laugh, but he seems unconvinced. You blink away the image and instead focus on your socked feet. Across from you, he shifts uncomfortably, looking you over and trying to take you in. You hope that enough time has passed that he can no longer read you.

“Is there anything I should know?” He’s cautious like he doesn’t want to know the answer himself.

“I didn’t see a clock if that’s what you’re asking. But I’ll let you know if that changes.” You stretch your arms above your head, peace lulling you back to reality as you find your friends. Lucas stirs across the room, murmuring, still deep in sleep. Robin is sprawled across the coffee table, drooling into her elbow. You smile, happy only Steve bears witness to your nightmare. The calm moment passes as soon as it came when you scan the four corners of the room, all of which are absent of Max’s presence. “Where’s Max?” You ask, scrambling to your feet.

As if on cue, Nancy, Dustin, and Max clobber down the stairs. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, relief flooding your veins at the sight of the ginger.

“You guys need to see this,” Nancy breathes, striding toward the center of the room with papers rolled loosely in her grasp. The commotion awakes Robin, who groans slightly at the sudden noise. Lucas is already making his way over to where the group stands, his knuckles rubbing at his eyes.

“Morning sleeping beauty,” you smile down at Robin, offering her a hand.

“I ache,” she whines, wincing as her bones crack once she’s upright.

All attention lands on Nancy, stepping over pillows and blankets to lay down a drawing for everyone to see. You take in the pages that are pieced together like a puzzle. A house, more like what’s left of one, stares back. Debris floats around the collapsing structure, suspended in a red haze.

“And this is?” You question, leaning over to get a closer look.

“Victor Creel’s house,” Nancy answers.

“It’s what I saw when,” Max waves her hand in the air, unable to finish her sentence.

“We think she infiltrated his mind,” Dustin adds. “She said that he seemed surprised she was there. That’s gotta count for something, right?”

“Surprised?” Robin asks, urging Max to explain. “What’s all the red stuff?”

“It looked almost like a fog,” Max says. “Everything was different when I made it here, like I was seeing something he didn’t want me to. And there were these bodies, strung up on huge spikes. And then, pieces of a house were just floating around. Anyway, I thought it’d be easier to draw than explain. That’s when Nancy put the pieces together. Literally.” She says, gesturing toward the paper.

“And they made Victor Creel’s house?” You ask, trying to understand. Max and Nancy nod.

“Sounds like a solid lead to me,” Robin says with a nod. “So what’s the plan? Breaking and entering?” A smirk ghosts across her features at the suggestion.

“Pretty much.” Nancy shrugs. “I say we take a look around.” She waits for any sign of objection, satisfied when nobody disagrees. “Great, we’ll leave in 5.”

The seven of you file out the door and to Nancy and Steve’s awaiting cars. You yearn to be in the backseat of Wheeler’s Lincoln, watching pathetically as Robin throws herself into the passenger seat. It’s not like the ride will be filled with hushed gossip or inside jokes, but still, you wish to be part of it. You glance at Max, guilt burying deep in your stomach at the mere thought of leaving her behind. With a sigh, you tug on the door handle and get in.

Steve pulls out slowly behind Nancy, letting her lead the way. Nobody talks, unsure of what the day will hold, of what awaits behind Victor’s abandoned front door. The only sound is the muffled song leaking from Nancy’s old headphones, now being worn by Max. Lucas had the idea late last night, a way to ensure a lifeline back to reality, back to home, if she were to get caught in the spell again.

Tired of the silence, you turn to Dustin. “Have you heard anything from Eddie yet? He’s probably starving by now.”

“Not personally. Nancy said she talked to him on the walkie this morning,” he says. “He asked for a food delivery and a six-pack.” Dustin finishes with a scoff. You roll your eyes at the detail, although part of you can’t blame him.

“Course he did.” You mumble, but content with an answer.

“What’s with you guys anyway?” Dustin asks, fully earning your attention.

“What do you mean?” Your brows furrow, thrown off by the question. Max removes a headphone from her ear, suddenly interested in the conversation.

“You said you were never friends but it took no convincing that he wasn’t guilty.” He shrugs.

“Just because I wasn’t friends with the guy–” you begin but Dustin continues to ramble.

“You jump to defend him, which –hey, I appreciate because I know him and all, but the point is, you supposedly don’t.”

“Oh, so, because we weren’t friends and I don’t think Eddie Munson is a murderer there’s something up?” You laugh in disbelief.

“He clearly trusts you, like, a lot.” The way he says it makes it sound like it’s a fact.

“He does not,” you argue, cringing when the words come out an octave higher. “No more than you.”

“Maybe, but you guys talk like you know something nobody else does,” Dustin states simply. “I’m just saying, when your friend says your babysitter was the hottest girl in school, you start to pick up on some things.” Your jaw goes slack at his confession. Heat creeps up your neck as you stare at him bewildered. Max and Lucas share uncertain glances from either end of the backseat.

“He said that?” You ask, earning a hum from the young boy as a response. “I didn’t know he felt that way.” You turn back in your seat, taking in the new information. You notice Steve’s grip on the wheel has tightened from the corner of your eye. “Nothing is going on,” you answer finally. “Maybe it’s because we had a few classes together or I never called him a freak.”

“But–”

“Drop it, Henderson.”

“You brought him up,” he giggles.

“Forget I asked then,” you huff, effectively silencing him. Staring out the window and watching the trees roll by, Dustin’s words bombard your thoughts despite your attempts to forget about them entirely.

Truthfully, you’ve never let yourself think too much about Eddie, the town’s oddball who most seemed to avoid unless they wanted some of his stash. You can’t deny that he’s incredibly charming and, of course, handsome. Your mind wanders back to that Halloween night, which by now feels like a lifetime ago.

If the situation wasn’t so humiliating, you might’ve taken the time to savor your moment together. Maybe, if you weren’t so embarrassed by your drunken actions and pitiful confession, you would’ve approached him a few days later to thank him. He would’ve laughed and said, "Don’t mention it,” with kind eyes, a friendly smile, and flushed cheeks. Thinking of him now, your heart skips a beat, and you curse yourself for it.

Steve’s tires screech to a halt as he shifts the gear to park. You take a second to clear your head, tucking away the memory. You lock eyes briefly with Max in the rearview and turn to her before she can escape.

“I want someone to have eyes on you at all times, understand?” You say, cocking a brow as if to challenge her.

“Yeah, okay, mom.” She rolls her eyes but you know it’s a front. She’s just as scared of being alone as you are.

“I’m serious, Max. No wandering and exploring without someone with you. And make sure that tape is always playing.”

“I’m going to be fine.” She reassures you.

“I know that,” you shake your head dismissing her words, unable to think of any other outcome. “We just need to take precautions, that’s all.” She nods, but can’t hide the flash of fear in her eyes.

The decrepit house sits nestled in trees, boarded up to ward off visitors. It’s in desperate need of a paint job, the plants grow rampant and cling to the porch columns, and there’s no doubt a layer of grime covering every inch of the building. A pit settles in your stomach as you take it all in.

“Yeah, that’s not creepy,” Steve says, staring ahead.

At the edge of Hawkins, the area is eerily quiet. There isn’t another home for miles, which shouldn’t surprise you, a string of murders doesn’t make the most welcoming neighborhood after all. The playground across the street looks just as bad, if not worse. A swing dangles from its chain, a merry-go-round lays crooked and broken on the grass, and what’s left of a spaceship is stripped down to the poles. Everything has been left to rot in the elements.

Silently, the seven of you trek forward undeterred. Steve stands behind Dustin, unzipping his backpack to remove the only two hammers Nancy could find twenty minutes ago. He passes one to Nancy and twirls the tool in his fingers as they ascend the porch. Robin stands beside you, looping her arm through yours, and rests her head on your shoulder while you wait.

“I mean, what exactly are we supposed to be looking for in this shithole?” Steve asks, tugging the first nail from the aged wooden board that blocks the entrance. It jingles once it lands on the concrete.

“We’re not sure. We just know this house is important to Vecna.” Nancy says, positioning her hammer to assist.

“Because Max saw it in Vecna’s red soup mind world?” Steve asks, yanking again.

“Basically,” Nancy shrugs.

“Great.”

“Maybe it holds a clue to where Vecna is. Why he’s back. Why he killed the Creels. And how to stop him before he comes back for Max,” Dustin adds. Everyone nods, letting it sink in.

“We don’t think he’s in here,” Lucas begins, “Do we?” You swallow, glancing at Robin who looks just as uncertain as you.

“Guess we’ll find out,” Max answers with a shrug.

“Ready?” Steve asks Nancy who hums in response. They both step to the side and let the board come crashing down, sending a puff of dust and leaves into the air. “It’s locked,” Steve says jiggling the knob while Dustin sighs. Robin untangles your limbs and takes a few steps off the sidewalk. She raises a brick into the air to gain your attention, jerking her head towards the door. You nod, doubting anyone in town would care about the vandalism, they’d probably thank her for it. “Should I knock and see if anybody’s home?”

“No need,” Robin says, holding it for everyone to see. “I found a key.”

“Stand back.” You order the three young teens and they shuffle out of her way. Robin chucks the brick toward the stained glass, creating a hole big enough for Steve to reach through and unlock from the inside.

The door screeches open, hinges unused in what you assume has been decades. Steve lets out a low whistle as he steps through the threshold, waiting for everyone to follow. You’re last to enter, ushering the kids in.

It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust to the darkness, the only light that seeps through is from the window Robin just broke. You fight the urge to cough, dust already invading your senses as you walk around the foyer. To your right, Lucas yanks on a lamp string, as if expecting something to happen.

“Looks like someone forgot to pay their electric bill,” He states. Dustin turns on his flashlight with a smile. Robin holds her bag out to you after she grabs her own.

“Thanks,” you say, reaching in and taking yours. Steadily, the room grows brighter as the lights flicker on.

“Where’d everyone get those?” Steve asks, looking around.

“Do you need to be told everything?” Dustin quips. “You’re not a child.” There’s a beat of tense silence as the two stare each other down.

“Thank you,” Steve says, voice strained with agitation.

“Huh,” Dustin shrugs off his backpack and hands it to Steve. “Back pocket.” You step past them, venturing further into the home as Steve pokes around the bag before letting it fall to the ground with a thud.

Sweeping the area with light, you run your hand along the banister. You think of the lives that were taken here all those years ago. Sadness hangs like a cloud above you while you look at their belongings, their photos, their life. Nothing has been removed since they lived here. You have the overwhelming feeling that you’re intruding, like you’re invading someone’s most intimate space. Suddenly, you realize you are, you all are. You rub the dust away from your fingers as you try and swallow it down.

“They just left everything,” Nancy says somewhere behind you.

“I guess a triple homicide isn’t good for resale value,” Robin responds.

“Hey, guys?” Max calls from across the room, gaining your attention. “You all see that, right?” Max shines her flashlight towards the grandfather clock that stands at the bottom of the stairs.

“Yeah,” Dustin and Steve confirm as everyone files over.

“Is this what you saw?” Nancy asks, gesturing towards it with her light. “In your visions?” She's looking at Max for the answer everyone already knows. Max takes in a shaky breath, nodding.

“I mean, it’s… Just a clock,” Robin notes, “Right?” She steps forward, hand outstretched, and wipes away muck from the glass. “Like a normal old clock.” She looks back at everyone.

“Why is this wizard obsessed with clocks?” Steve questions from beside you. “Maybe he’s like, a clockmaker or something?” You look at him, dumbfounded, and can practically see the gears turning in his head as he tries to make sense of it.

“I think you cracked the case, Steve,” Dustin says with a shake of his head.

“All I know is the answers are here. Somewhere.” Nancy looks around the room for a moment. “Okay, everyone split up. Robin, upstairs.” She backs away, already taking the steps two at a time.

“Go. Find clues. Make up.” Robin hisses to you and Steve, squeezing your shoulder as she passes.

“Come on. Let’s go,” Max says, tugging on Lucas’s sleeve and pulling him further into the belly of the house. Dustin quickly takes off after them, throwing you a sympathetic smile over his shoulder before he disappears.

You can’t bring yourself to move, held captive by the guilt of being somewhere you don’t belong. Everything seems so special now, offering clues to who these people were, how they lived. Every item under this roof was meticulously bought and styled by Virginia Creel, does that mean nothing? The beds where they slept, the china they ate from, the curtains they closed, all have fragments of them still lingering. You want to protect it, not rummage through it all like it’s garbage.

“You alright?” Steve asks coming closer.

“Yeah, I just,” but you can’t find the words, you aren’t even sure he’ll understand. So, you change the subject to stall. “When Dustin was eight, he went through this major Scooby Doo phase. I had made him a little mystery kit. Flashlight, magnifying glass, even homemade Scooby Snacks, the whole nine yards. He refused to leave his house without it.” You smile at the memory. Steve’s brows twitch with confusion but indulges in the story. “Once, we were halfway to school and he had this huge meltdown because he had left it. He was crying, stomping his feet, I mean, the kid was inconsolable.”

“What’d you do?”

“Went back, of course.” You chuckle. “The way he looked at me, like the world was ending, I couldn’t send him to school like that. So we were both late.” You shrug. Thinking about how little he was makes your heart hurt. You wish that was the only issue he ever had to face, that you could’ve somehow protected him from everything that came after. “It’s just cute that he still carries all his stuff around. Like all this shit hasn’t changed him completely, he’s still that little boy.”

“I’m lucky he carries extras these days.” He laughs, waving the flashlight in the air. Your smile falters when you look around the room, reminded of the stakes at large.

“Okay, let’s get this over with,” you sigh. “Upstairs? The numbers even out better that way.”

“Works for me,” he agrees, taking the lead. Each stair creaks underneath your weight as you climb. You watch Steve from behind, following him into a bedroom. You notice his tense shoulders and the way he has his lip sucked between his teeth. “Hey, uh,” he begins, “Could you maybe, uh, clarify what sort of clues we’re supposed to be looking for here?”

“Honestly?” You come to a stop, flipping through old magazines that are scattered across a vanity. “No idea. I’m hoping for a diary, maybe a scrapbook? Something of that sort,” you answer, yet find no luck.

You pull an old chair away from the wall and take a seat, trying not to think about the ring of dust it’ll leave on the back of your pants. You tug open a drawer, combing through old compacts and dried lipsticks. Behind you, Steve lifts the mattress, fanning the air with a quiet cough. Finding nothing, he lowers it and takes a seat, the old springs groaning beneath him.

“You can trust me with your secrets,” he whispers. Your head snaps toward him, unsure if you heard his words correctly. He glances your way, holding your gaze.

“What did you say?” You demand with squinted eyes.

“That’s what you said to Eddie the other night. I’m just trying to figure out what it means.” He lifts his feet to rest against the bottom of the old bedframe, tucking his hands between his knees. His demeanor is calm, expression blank as he moves.

“Why would you think it means anything?” You ask, unsure what he’s trying to get at.

“Dustin’s right about the way you guys talk. Like knowing something nobody else does, or whatever,” he shrugs. “I don’t know, you said me, not us and that’s what got him to talk. That’s what I’m stuck on.” You look away, fingers tapping against the chair cushion. “Did you guys sleep together, or something?” He sounds desperate to know the answer.

“What?” You let out a loud laugh. “No, nothing like that.” Steve raises an eyebrow, signaling for you to continue. You click your tongue, absentmindedly tracing the woodgrain of the tabletop, no longer able to look at him. “He took me home the night of the Halloween party. I had a really terrible night, was shit-faced drunk, and he took care of me. Okay? That’s it.” Steve’s brows furrow together as he combs through old memories. “I just, I don’t know. I feel like I owe him one, I guess.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asks, leaning forward.

“You didn’t ask?” You shrug simply. “Any time we talked about that night it was always about you and Nancy.” He looks away then, suddenly more interested in his shoes.

“I’m sorry,” he says earnestly.

“Hey,” you say, maneuvering so you’re in his line of sight. “You didn’t know. It’s okay, really. You were going through a lot of shit, I mean, we all were.” You wave your hand vaguely around the room. “I just didn’t want to add to that.” His eyes soften as you nod. “It’s all good, cross my heart.” The two of you share a fond smile at your words, the meaning worth so much more than just a promise. You don’t remember when you started saying the phrase, probably between the ages of six or seven, whispered like something sacred. You turn back around, opening another drawer to dig through. He stands, finding his way over to a bookshelf and plucking out a novel and random.

“What was it?” He asks, fanning through the pages.

“Hm?”

“What was your secret?” You freeze for a moment, clearing your throat as you pretend to be occupied.

“That I was in love with you,” your voice is barely above a whisper. You stand, placing the chair back where you found it. “He was the first person I told,” you say, turning on your heel and to the room across the hall.

Even though the windows are boarded, you can tell the sun has started to dip below the horizon. You make your way towards the closet, throwing open the door. You rake through jackets and folded slacks, shoving your hand into each of the pockets. Steve enters a few moments later, opening the dresser, and sifting through its contents.

“For the record,” he calls, “I also thought you were the hottest girl in school.” You roll your eyes but can’t help the smile that stretches across your lips.

“Gee, thanks,” you laugh. “So, you and Dustin. Trouble in paradise?” You ask, crouching to reach for a discarded hatbox hidden in the corner.

“God,” he groans. “He just knows exactly what to say to push every last one of my buttons.” He crosses the room and leans against the doorway.

“He has a way with words, that’s for sure.” You giggle, popping open the lid only to see a handful of ties. You sigh, pushing it away and off to the side. “I’d happily take him off your hands if Robin wasn’t forcing us together every second she got.” You say, voice lowered to be sure she couldn’t hear you from the other room.

“Yeah, dude, what is with her?” He asks, folding his arms in front of him. “Before you got here, she was telling me not to talk to you and that I should keep my distance to not make things weird.” His confession makes your chest ache.

“To be fair, nobody expected any of this to happen,” you say in her defense. “But I think part of her misses how things were.”

“Well, she’s not the only one.” He glances to the side, eyes squinting slightly as he walks away. You turn back to the mess you made, reaching for clothes strewn on the floor. You catch yourself smiling as you fold fleece and put garments back on their rightful hangers. It feels nice talking to him again, swapping secrets and sharing stories the way you used to.

When you come out of the closet you find him reaching into the floorboards, flashlight shining on something you can’t make out. “Find something?” You ask, standing on your tiptoes but fail to get a glimpse over his shoulder. When he doesn’t respond, you make your way into the hall, straining to hear where Nancy and Robin have gone.

You jump at the sound of shattering glass. Whipping around, you see Steve frantically scurrying backward, batting wildly at his arms and head. He plummets into you, nearly knocking you both to the ground.

“Jesus, what’s wrong?” You ask, heart racing. You place a hand on his back to steady him.

“There was a spider,” he pants, still swatting. “It’s a black widow.” He turns suddenly, grabbing the doorknob and yanking it shut. “Don’t go back in there.”

“Got it,” you say, suppressing a giggle. Only then do you notice the whips of a spiderweb tangled in his hair. “Hang on,” you say bringing your fingertips to the strands. His body bristles at your touch that’s now unfamiliar to his skin. You swallow, ignoring the sting that comes with such simple actions. Last summer, this would’ve been nothing, this would’ve been second nature. Now, the two of you are lightyears away while standing only a foot apart. Your body wilts, feeling the ghosts of you, of Steve, of everything you shared, settle around you.

“Something? Shit, okay.” He stares at his reflection in the hallway mirror, eyes crazed at his disheveled state.

“Shh, stop moving for a second, I almost have it.” You let out a soft giggle, trying to hide your unease.

“If there’s a spider nesting in there, you’re never gonna find it till it lays eggs and all the babies spill out.” Robin chirps, coming around the corner.

“Not helping, Robin,” you sigh.

“What’s wrong with you?” Steve snaps, only earning a vicious laugh from the girl. “Robin, seriously.” You don’t have to be looking at him to know he’s rolling his eyes. “She’s got problems.”

“Don’t we all?” You ask, still untangling knots from web. He breathes out a humorless laugh as you run your fingers through his hair, shaking away the debris.

“Do you,” he begins softly, twisting his sneaker in the hardwood, debating his words. “Is there a world where we could ever be friends again? Start over?” The question is so quiet you almost miss it.

His absence left a gaping hole in your chest, one you are certain no one else can fill. Steve Harrington has a home in your soul, he’s part of you, down to your very core. He’s engrained in your movements, the lilt in your voice, the way your heart beats. Being around him is agonizing. You remember the pain, the memories, and the promises he didn’t keep. Every time he’s near, you’re reminded that you loved him so much and he couldn’t love you enough.

“I don’t know,” you whisper, blinking away thought.

“Maybe after we find Vecna, kill him, save the world and stuff, maybe we can all go out or something. You know, me, you, Robin. Eddie, when we clear his name?” His body goes rigid as he offers the idea, his nerves practically radiating off his skin. You glance down the hall at Robin, who tries to hide her smile as she pretends not to listen. “Could we start there?”

“Yeah,” you smile, plucking out the last bit of cobweb. “We can start there.” You pat his shoulder, a signal that you’re finished. “All gone.” You whisper as he turns to face you fully.

“Great, thanks.” He looks away, suddenly aware of how close you two stand, and lets out an awkward chuckle. “Well, great um,” you watch his lips purse together. “Guess we should uh, get back to the investigation.”

“Sure,” you nod, following him back towards the stairs. From down below, you can hear the three teens moving around the rooms on quick feet.

“Guys?” Lucas calls over his shoulder. “Guys!” You and Steve move faster to the living room with Nancy and Robin following close behind. You come to a halt under a chandelier covered in grime, its light pulsing.

“It’s like the Christmas lights,” Nancy states. Nobody can take their eyes off of the sight.

“The Christmas lights?” Robin asks.

“Yeah, when Will was in the Upside Down, the lights… came to life,” Nancy whispers back.

“He used them to talk to Joyce,” you say, “That’s how she found him.”

“Vecna’s here,” Lucas starts, “In this house. Just on the other side.” And then the lights go out. Everyone shares a worried look.

“I think he just left the room.” Under normal circumstances that would be considered a typical, sarcastic remark from Robin, but you believe she’s right.

“Did he hear us?” Max questions, looking around.

“Can he see us?” Steve asks, meeting her eyes.

“Headphones,” Lucas demands. You can’t ignore the shake in her hands as Max puts them back around her ears.

“Wait, wait,” Nancy says, “Everyone, turn off your flashlights and spread out.” Immediately, you understand her thought process. You click the light off, stepping away from the circle with an arm stretched out. Dustin moves with you, following your actions.

“We’re not gonna be able to see if we turn off our flashlights,” Steve stammers. “Jesus Christ,” he whispers, realizing nobody is listening.

You wander aimlessly, eyes strained on the bulb that won’t blink. You dodge decaying furniture and crooked rugs with quiet footsteps. You can hear Dustin nearby, he hasn’t moved too far out of your sight. It feels good to know he still trusts you for protection, still believes that you’re a safe space.

“I got him!” Robin screams from another room. “Got him!” She calls again while everyone rushes towards her. “I got him.” Her flashlight is raised in the air, ignited just for a second before it sputters out. “I, I had him.”

“Oh, whoa,” Steve says suddenly, staring at his light beam that nearly flickers off. “Oh, I think he’s moving.” He says, arm forward and walking away in an effort to keep the light on. “He’s moving. He’s moving!” You trail behind Steve and back up the stairs. “Shit.” He mumbles, light fading out at the top. “I lost him.”

“No, you didn’t,” Max says, pushing through the group. She pulls open a door where the glow of light can faintly be seen from beyond.

“It’s an attic,” Robin sings, full of nerves. “Of course, it’s an attic.” You squeeze her hand as you follow Max and Steve further up the second staircase.

“Hold up, guys,” Dustin says below, tone thick with worry. “What if he’s leading us into a trap?” Nobody responds, too focused on getting to the top. “Guys?” He begs. “Shit, shit, shit,” he says on every step.

A single lightbulb flickers in the center of the room. You sigh with relief at the emptiness that surrounds you, moving slowly towards the bulb. “Flashlights,” Dustin says, tearing your attention away. Looking down, you see everyone’s ablaze. Squeezing between Robin and Nancy, you lean in first, setting your flashlight under the buzzing lightbulb, while everyone follows your lead.

“Okay, what’s happening?” Steve asks, staring at the glowing circle. Slowly, the room grows brighter, bathed in so much light you have to squint. One by one, glass starts to burst. Everyone yelps, turning away quickly to shield your eyes as the flashlights explode. Then suddenly, you’re left in nothing but the darkness.

“Well,” Dustin gasps after a minute of silence. “I’m guessing that’s not a good sign.”

“What did he do?” Robin asks nobody in particular.

“Do you feel all right?” You look at Max across from you.

“I feel fine.” She nods, answering honestly.

“We need to get out of here,” Steve decides, already pushing his way toward the door. Nobody moves, still too stunned. “Now.” He yells.

It’s like the daze lifts from your body, suddenly hyper-aware of where you are, of what lurks right below you on the other side. It’s hard to move quickly with the amount of people trudging down the stairs, but eventually, you make it to the entrance.

“Can he get here?” Lucas asks.

“I don’t want to stick around to find out, Sinclair,” Steve responds, barreling out the front door.

The air is significantly cooler now and the moon is hidden behind clouds. You can see each puff of breath as you reach Steve’s car. Robin throws herself against his trunk with a groan. “Never thought I’d be so happy to see this car.” She breathes, pressing a quick kiss to the metal.

“Dramatic,” you laugh as she flips you off.

“Can you get her home?” Nancy asks Steve gesturing toward you. She takes the keys out of her pocket when she reaches the sidewalk. “I can get everyone else. She’s just closest to you.”

“I’m sorry,” Lucas barks out a sarcastic laugh. “Are we really not going to talk about what we just saw?” He flings his arms toward the house in frustration.

“We don’t even know what that was.” Nancy bites back. “Do you want to stand out here in the cold and chitchat?”

“Unbelievable,” Lucas shakes his head but relents, getting into her car without another word. Nancy purses her lips at the sight but chooses to let it go. She ushers at everyone else to get in, which they do without complaint.

“Meet back at my place tomorrow morning. We’ll bring food to Eddie and figure it all out then. Get some rest.” She says to the two of you, leaving no room for argument before getting into her car.

There’s a pleasant silence in the air as Steve turns onto the main road. When you’re alone, there’s no expectation of conversation. It’s always been this way, neither of you possessed the urge to fill the quiet with nonsense small talk to one another. Even when you were young and grew tired of playing pretend, you’d spend hours together without uttering a word, comforted knowing that the other was beside you.

“Oh shit,” you murmur, passing under streetlights that bring you closer to home. He hums, an acknowledgment that he’s listening. “My mom. She doesn’t work nights anymore.” Despite her no longer working the night shift for months, it completely slipped your mind. Being surrounded by the others, it’s been easy to forget about your life so far away, almost like it doesn’t exist. You fell back into the role of Dustin’s old babysitter, Robin’s best friend, and Nancy’s acquaintance so easily, like you were seventeen again. The glaring reminder that everything has changed is Steve and a parked Chevrolet in the driveway.

“You can stay at my place,” he offers.

“Oh, that’s not necessary.” It’s not the end of the world to wake your mother. You’re just not ready to answer her questions, which you know will all be about Steve. “I’ll just climb through the window. Might be kinda fun.” You’re lying and he knows it.

“Really, it’s no problem.”

“Robin’s not looking. You don’t have to pretend to care about me.” He recoils slightly, stung by your words.

“I’m not pretending.” His voice is so soft you nearly apologize. “Besides, with everything going on, it’d be nice to know I’m not alone.” He says shyly.

“Okay,” you agree against better judgment. “Only if you’re sure.”

You regret the decision as soon as he parks. The house stands just as it did eight months ago. It’s daunting, approaching the front door of a house that knows you no longer belong there. You want to turn back around, climb back into his car, and demand to be taken home. Before you get the chance, he beckons you inside.

You take in the warmth, the smell, and the art, lingering in the foyer. Everything is so familiar, unchanged, and untouched, like you’re staring into a time capsule. You wonder if this is how he felt the other morning, standing in your living room and soaking the memories back in.

“The guest bedroom should be made up. I’d take you there, but,” he gestures at you awkwardly.

“I’m sure I won’t get lost,” you whisper, wrapping your arms around yourself.

“Right. I’ll, uh, get you some clean clothes.” He nods to himself before moving around you and up to his room.

Cautiously, you turn the corner, breath hitching as you stare down the hallway decorated in frames still filled with you. You aren’t sure how he does it, living here and passing photos of you daily. You would’ve torn them down, shattered the glass, and swept away any reminder of him into the garage. You look away, unable to bear the sight any longer.

You take a seat on the pristinely made bed, running a hand along the comforter. You wonder if Steve will tell his mother about this, you being here. If she’d have the same reaction as your mom would. Your mother would be overjoyed. She’d act like the world can spin correctly again. You can’t help but feel like this has been a colossal mistake.

“Found these.” He enters with a soft knock, tearing you away from your thoughts. Wordlessly, you take the clothes and hold them in your lap gently.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” You hate how weak your voice sounds when you ask.

“What do you mean?” The bed dips beside you under his weight.

“I’ve been nothing but a total bitch to you since the second I got here. I don’t deserve anything you’ve done for me the past few days. Tonight especially.” When you look at him, his eyes are already searching yours. “I thought you hated me.”

“I did, still do sometimes.” He admits quietly. “For leaving, for not saying goodbye, for getting a boyfriend so quick. It just felt like none of it mattered. Like we didn’t matter. But then I saw you at the game and, I don’t know, I didn’t care about all of that anymore.” He shakes his head lost in thought. “Look, I know I majorly fucked up. I never thought you’d speak to me again and so this,” he gestures between the two of you, “This means everything to me. You could say you hate me right now and I’d just be happy to hear your voice.”

“I’d never be able to hate you, Steve.” You say honestly. It’s true, you realize, even when he hurt you most, he is so much more than your worst heartbreak. Steve is the warmth of summer, chlorine skin, and melted popsicles in the sun. He’s campfires and pitched tents under autumn’s stars. He’s candy cane swords and long days of sledding in the bite of winter. He’s the picked flowers and afternoons indoors when it rained in the spring. How could you possibly hate that? Hate him?

“I’ll let you get some sleep.” He offers a crooked smile, clapping his hands to his knees. “Sweet dreams.” And then he’s gone.

You stare at the ceiling, rest refusing to take hold. You throw off the sheets and start to pace unable to lie still any longer. You tug on the frayed hem, choking on the scent from his sweater that’s unequivocally Steve. You let out a muffled sigh and grab the doorknob.

Ten steps down the hall, up the stairs, and around the corner is where he’d be. Maybe his door would already be open, waiting for you. You can say, ‘I’m scared to sleep alone.’ and he’d let you crawl into the bed beside him. You can almost feel his arms wrapping around you, the softness of his skin pressed against your cheek. You can hear his footsteps circling above, you wonder if he’s contemplating the same thing.

But you’re no longer seventeen. You’re not dating, not in love, not his best friend. You’re a stranger in his home, a guest. You release the knob and settle back between his mother’s linens, blinking away tears. You’ve never wanted to leave somewhere more in your life. What truly startles you though, is how much you want to stay.

Forever tags: @superfrankie111 // @lemonadeorange73 // @youshutthefuckupville // @quaksonhehe

Steve Tags: @louloueh // @soulmatekeery // @slytherinambitious

Back to You Tags: @p-rspective // @gloryekaterina // @boomitsallie1 // @sundarksposts // @themyththelegendthenerd // @gengen64 // @frostandflamesfanfic // @m-rae23

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r0-boat · 11 months ago

Note

May I request some Yandere Von lycaon headcanons please? Thank you! 💗

Hot wolf headcanons coming right up

Yandere Von Lycaon Headcannons

Cw: Yandere, possessive, excessive,and overprotective behavior, super controlling, super toxic, kidnapping.

Von Lycaon knows every little thing about you down to the last beauty mark on your skin. He is a hyperstalker, MF has a leather notebook filled with meticulous notes on you. Along with pictures photos or sketches to go with it. He takes such great pride into knowing every little thing about you.

He wants to know your likes your dislikes everyone you hang out with your family members, He will know you down to what soap you use.

First he was just happy with stalking you knowing everything about you but after a while he would want more. You would start bumping into you on the street slowly starting to hang out with you. And as a handsome and very charismatic wolfman you will be in tranced too much so to even notice what's going on before it's too late.

You will be kidnapped, He had to do it as soon as he could and it's not like it was hard either He had stolen things before. He was rusty but once he knew your schedule and how to get you alone it was so easy to lead you with stray.

Lycaon is not stupid. He knows what he's doing is wrong. You are his guilty pleasure and he cannot help himself. at first he was very conflicted and holding his feelings back but now he does not care.

he assures you that him being your captor is a better option than literally anything else out in the world. With his salary he could easily provide for you then when he is not working you are his one and only. If you know your place, he will happily serve you and give you anything you wish.

Just because he serves you that doesn't mean he's a pushover. Far from it He's only like this because he wants to serve you However he is not afraid to take back what little control you thought you had.

Of course, obedience is not without punishment, and as a strict wolf, he must uphold his rules. And there are a lot of them.

-Supervise internet for 1 hour only, of course certain social medias are blocked and restricted.

-Going outside without his chaperoning is prohibited

-wondering around the house when he is at work is prohibitive However once you're good you will get this privilege.

-You must eat meals by him and him alone Von lygon will provide three meals a day along with snacks and dessert He shall leave warm breakfast out for you before he leaves for work. His Bangboo shall provide you with lunch.

-no tempering with the Bangboo, it's there for your safety surveillance and to provide You with any necessities while he's away.

-television for no more than 2 hours a day. Anymore then 1 hour over this limit and you'll get a scolding. More hours maybe negotiated.

-any books or TV series you want to watch or read must be checked and green lit with von Lycaon first

-hanging out with friends is out of the question unless greenlit by Von Lycaon.

-when he calls you must pick up immediately.

-do not feel yourself up on snacks and sweets. You'll spoil your dinner.

Honestly he doesn't think he's that controlling.

Von Lycaon had a connection set up cameras in your room and everywhere around the house, which was attached to an app on his phone so he could see what you're doing at all times.

Von Lycaon Will cook for you cloth you, bathe with you, He would even goddamn brush your damn teeth for you.

Your Butler by force may look common collected but internally he has no chill when it comes to you and will clear out grocery stores when you even mention you have a craving for any snack or dish.

He is self-aware but he is still delulu from the fact that he wants to get married to you someday. It will happen You just have to trust him more. In one of your many fights with him You yell at him that "You can't force someone to fall in love" and with a straight face looking you dead in the eye he answers " you can love someone by force that's called Stockholm syndrome. I researched that extensively"... You never had that argument with him again.

#zzzero #zzzero von Lycaon #zzz #von lycaon #lycaon x reader #yandere #yandere zzz #yandere von Lycaon #zenless zone zero #zzz von lycaon

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midnight1nk · 3 months ago

Text

So, the Silence of the Cats movie....

[spoilers below cut]

OMGOMGOMG IT'S TIME!

Y'know I have to put this on the big screen, full HD quality. I got my ramen and bingo cards, I'm SO ready!

3... 2... 1... happy new year oh wait LET'S GOOOO

[the following is my live reaction:]

frame one and I'm already hyped

OH OH are we starting off like we did in the trailer?

it's giving across the spider-verse vibes, ifykyk

OH GOD THAT'S EVEN WORSE. she got hit by a semitruck AND a car?! gurl are you ok?

and she's limping a bit. it was for a second but it counts!

the character of the hour....

*points at screen* THERE HE IS

I'm SO ready to punch his face right about now

ooh the animation tho okay Team

"That's probably not the biggest problem on their plate right now!" WPNZ, what did you do? where are the kids?

bc i swear i'll—

....OH HELL NAH I AIN'T TRUSTING THIS

WHY IS THE PIZZA BLUE?!

oh god did the Team see what I wrote?

YEAH YEAH kids, this is practically a hostage situation so PLEASE for your mom's (and my) sake you get outta here 😨

IKIK but kids, pleaseeeee

WPNZ, YOU ARE NOT PART OF THIS CONVERSATION WE'LL GET A CHANCE TO "TALK" (read: fight)

"Points for effort right?" oh you did NOT just say that to her AND to me. this isn't a "game", it's a family

ARE YOU FUCKIN KIDDING ME?! nopenopenope

kids, this is for your safety i promise

Zach omg, I know you're upset but geez

YOU *angry microwave noises*

THANK YOU KAREN, I was about say KICK HIS ASS

for a guy like WPNZ, Karen is pretty good handling him on her own. strong woman/cat, we love to see it

"Cmon! You know that "contract" jobs paid in DROVES-" AAAAA I'm gonna fall off my chair already

HITMAN INC. MENTION

seriously why is he here?!?!?! i wanna rip someone's head off

WHAT?! KATANA?! as in the sword?

OH that makes so much sense. WPNZ, Katana. Karen was a stray after all, she probably didn't give herself a name. or maybe Katana was just the codename given to her by the corporation and she used to refer to herself as that.

YEAH don't deadname her!

*head in hands* no one's letting her move on :(

"there it is, that glare." ew ew ew i HATE that. I'd rather have the fight.

i hope the kids aren't hearing this—

GODDAMMIT NOOO

yes kids, just give a moment to sort out this beef we have, ok?

don't. you. dare.

*slams desk* YOU MF

that's a VERY good question, Zach (please flashback storytime please)

YESSS

oh we're just going to sit on the floor, ok?

it was obvious that partners would grow attached to one other. A bond like this relies on blind trust, knowing that the other would do the job. And eventually, caring for each other's safety, for a job with high risks.

but ofc this turned out terrible for them and Karen did the right choice taking care of her kids without him, not getting her hopes up that he'll be back

And the team pulled off a spyxfamily moment 😌↕️

*angry microwave noises*

i LOATHE the kind of parents who think that financial support is all the kids need

literally him 10 minutes ago: "ahh ahh ahh, language. Wouldn't want the little ones hearing would we?"

oh, so when YOU say it, we're not supposed to judge?

fuckin hypocrite

ALL 👏 KIDS 👏 NEED 👏 SAFETY 👏

wait... was that supposed to be a frozen pizza? so all this "slaving away making dinner" was all for frozen pizza. well I was right about it being the case in my trailer analysis.

...I don't like how his face changed

NOPE *snap fingers* get tf out of here. this is part of a larger con, he's trying to make her feel guilty

huh, it looks like a day has passed (please tell me 4's recovering rn)

good on her getting security devices after what happened

SWAG! you're actually getting a scene and not just an appearance, yay 🎉

hey. hey swag. can you do something for me? could you uh arrest someone for me :) why? well he's a threat

WHY ARE YOU conveniently HERE?

ok WPNZ, you were stalking before but now you're just doing it to piss me off

not even government-level weapons could go against him ah fuck

"becoming weapons"? NOPE NOPE we're outta here

NO MEANS NO.

ew ew ew don't you ever say that, WPNZ

*points at screen* hey look, fnaf! (let's not think about the door, ok? ok)

aw katie 😭

this is going to come back somehow. i can feel it.

just Karen being a cool mom

"Kataanaaaaa :D" PISS. OFF. :)

that's right, let's not provoke him with whatever he's planning

it's not just an arcade game smh

*more angry microwave noises*

YEAH WPNZ what would you know about parenting? huh?

HHHHHH i hate that he makes a good point but I'm going to still keep reminding myself that he has bigger plans in mind

compromise is a big thing in parenting, especially when dealing with younger kids 😌↕️ (this is what KAREN did, not wpnz)

*ahem* uh you mean, HER kid

team istg PLEASE don't redeem him

this is a ploy this is a ploy

EXACTLY some things CAN'T BE FORGIVEN

YEP BYE

NOOOOOOO

ough her kids are her world.....

"AND NO WEAPONS" ah see, she said no WPNZ so bye creep :)

OH HELL NAH WPNZ, YOU DON'T GET TO PULL A SONIC ADVENTURE POSE. NOT ON MY WATCH.

those rocks are shaking, i don't trust that

WHAT DID I JUST SAY?

GO KAREN, SAVE YOUR KIDS

.... I'm sorry wha?

don't tell me that's bc.... *points at WPNZ* ....is it?

IT'S GENETIC?!

i...just. uh. how do i. i think we need to move on.

NONONONO YOU DON'T GET TO HUG THEM

he's winning them over, nooooo

it can't be like this. team please.

And he's teaching them how to become assassins, godammit

oh Karen, it's because they gained new "superpowers", ofc the kids would be happy about it. it's not on you.

"secret mission"?

THAT'S IT. THIS IS WHERE WE DRAW THE LINE. ABSOULTELY NOT. YOU DID NOT JUST SAY THAT AFTER YOU SAID "I understand that you don't want them to go killing" MF

WE CAN'T TRUST HIM WITH ANYTHING HE SAYS. KAREN, GET HIM

(oh, i didn't expect karen to say "absolutely not" like i did)

ROOTS?! ARE YOU KIDDIN ME

yep, he hasn't changed AT ALL. been telling you that this is just a con somehow

...oh no

....chat i'm this close to snapping.

first off, WPNZ didn't need to steal the "pick your poison" line from me

second, no, don't do this to me team

first with 4 and now. please don't.

I'M ACTUALLY CRYING, CHAT

like I know the movie's not going to end this way. it can't, right?

istg if this is how it ends, you're going to see me on the news

THE SHOWGROUNDS?! OH OH is it happening? what's going on?

4 MY BOYYYYYY 😭😭😭 i'm crying even more now

you're okayyy. i knew you would be but you're okay and that's what matters

AND YOU GOT BANDAGES? y'know what? I'LL TAKE IT

i'm not even mad bc you can justify it as, timeline-wise, it's been a few days after the events of "Enough is Enough" so 4 could've been recovering during that time

↑ yeah I'm going to make a fic about it

and it's SO in-character for him to be walking around while he's recovering

don't think about how the bandages are on (1) covering his logo particularly from his left side, (2) exactly on top of where his lobotomy scar would be, and (3) around his right hard in which was the first limb that broke free of the goo's corruption in IGBP. let's not :) <- I say, y'know like a liar

I'M OUTRIGHT SOBBING RN

4's talk was exactly what Karen needed. Ben lowkey was right, 4 really is the key, to help Karen

And it means so much more, considering how Luke became a content creator and it was Kevin who supported his passion, to be happy. it truly came from the soul of the whole channel, to the Hobo Bros.

this show, man......

AND y'know how I said that 4 to me is basically "that friend who gives a caring and supporting talk while getting a ride home from the airport" kinda vibe. now you see what I mean?

he would really do anything to not lose his friends, even from their own despair

(ok we have to keep going or else I'm going to start crying again)

YEAH KAREN, GO GET YOUR KIDS BACK

yep, WPNZ favors Katie out of her brothers oh no

oh kiddos, it's not a video game :(

WPNZ... they are LITERALLY KIDS. ofc they're going to joke around.

oop, we got some hesitation. please, I hope the kids turn against him

Again. they're kids.

BRUH WHY DID YOU DO THAT?

THEY'RE 👏 KIDSSSS 👏

arcade? this isn't a GAME. They don't wanna do this :((

aw no they're crying. stoooooopppp.

Karen I need you to come in right about now. Karen. KAREN.

LET'S GOOOOO, NEVER MESS WITH A MOM

ZACH'S CRYING? AW NOOOOO 😭😭😭

...WPNZ, I'm going to uno reverse what you said to them: how about you piss off?

HHHHHHHHHH i'm going to snap

yea no, it's not going to happen the same way like last time

i LOVE how different WPNZ and Karen talk to the kids here in taking whose side: WPNZ sees them more as one unit and what could they potentially do if they were stronger, smarter. To meet the standards of a legend. Keeping on referring to them as "weapons" and not kids. For Karen, she kneels down to their level, calls them individually by name, admits her wrongdoings (unlike WPNZ for what happened earlier), and whatever they will or will not be, she will still love them no matter what. They don't have to be legends, just be happy, it's all that matters to her.

and the kids chose their mom 😌↕️ THE POWER OF TRUE FAMILY

oh so you're that type of parent. Karen, get his ass.

I got a feeling who might've animated this fight scene

OMG DID HE JUST DECLAW HER?! 😨 now you gotta go (not die exactly but still)

OH YEAH? AND GUESS WHO THEY CHOSE THE SECOND TIME, WPNZ?

FINALLY SOMEONE SAYS IT! thanks zach

"A." well said, cory. such a beautiful speech right there 💙

it turns out the fight team-up was Karen with her kids all along! well, to be fair, we didn't know the kids's genes are them having weapons for limbs

GO GET HIS ASS THIS IS SO HYPE

"You screwed with the wrong family..." YES YOU DID

now we can curb-stomp him :)

Finally, an actual homemade pizza made by Karen

don't fight for food tho, kiddos

see? compromise 👍

oh. it's not over yet guys. hold on.

*looks at the magenta and cyan lights* .....heterochromia 4?

is the corporation going to come in? perhaps? maybe?

...wha?

NO STOP YOU BETTER NOT

THERE'S ONLY ONE PERSON I KNOW WHO WOULD SAY "DEAR"

NO WAY IT'S HIM AIN'T NO WAY

"A friend." OMG NO WAY I'M WRESTLING WITH MY DECK CHAIR RN STOPPPP

LET'S FUCKIN GOOOOOOOOO

THAT'S HOW YOU BRING HIM BACK AND END A MOVIE

WE ARE SO BACK oh this was fantastic

alright merch time!

KAREN PLUSHIE LOOK AT HER

Luke: "That ending, I wonder what that stinky SMG4 has in store" well, I have a couple theories—

LOOK AT THIS 💳💥 💳💥 💳💥

WHY AM I SO BROKE?

look at the katphish family, dude ueueue

*ahem at the Puzzles figurine*

……….eye of ra *explodes* (i mean, what else do you expect from me? NOT talk about goop!4? *points at blog bio* yea no, I will)

"the pencil case is probably for the younger viewers" DOES IT LOOK LIKE I CARE? i NEED it............

.・-: ✧ :--: ✧ :-・.

Now, you're probably wondering what I think of the movie, and the answer?

This has been one of the best movies I've ever seen. The writing, the voice acting, the animation. Spectacular all around, the Team really cooked on this one. I just. I have no words.

hey, shadow did say we were gonna get surprises, and oh boy we did.

Perhaps some things didn't happen in the movie/we didn't get to see and, honestly, screw it! It surprised us more than we could ever realize and I do hope the hype I brought to you guys made the movie worth watching bc it deserved the praise.

Karen and the kids learning what it means to be a true family. WPNZ, as much as I love to hate on his character and calling him yucky, he was incredibly well-written and I'm glad that the Team didn't give him a full-on redemption path. It feels realistic that he would try but ultimately his personality and desires was what crushed him at the end, if he didn't view the kids as potential weapons/assassins.

AND MY BOY 4 💙 I already said what needed to be said but golly he's such a sweetheart. how can you hate him? (no seriously how? I can never understand it.) personal hc: the Castle lights were set to "low" just to help 4 not get a headache, which conveniently set up the tone for the scene.

So. can we talk about that ending?! OMG MR. PUZZLES IS BACK!!! I can't believe it. Well, sort of. It's not that Mr Puzzles wouldn't be able to contact the outside world from solitary confinement. He absolutely can. See? I told you all he could. I just couldn't have ever imagined that he's starting to collect villains like pokémon. Likely making his own "Crew" to go against our SMG4 Crew. And y'know what it could mean? That's right: PUZZLEVISION+ and that also means, there's goop!4 theory potential 👀 especially with the lighting at the end there (ik the meme, ik but let me have my bliss for a sec).

Funny enough that Mr. Puzzles really said "You look lonely. I can fix that" to WPNZ. So..... hitshow, anyone?

Anyway, let's see what the Team has to say:

"You have no idea how long i've been waiting for this moment. Hope you'all enjoyed the movie the SMG4 team really did a amazing job!" — anaidon

"Glad ya'll liked the latest #SMG4 movie I got to be a part of with the animating styles. As for the ending though... [evil laughter]" — star

"MR PUZZLES YA VIENE CABRONES" [mr puzzle is coming, you bastards] — ben (YESSIR! and you were kinda right ben, 4 was the key all along)

"Hello SMG4 community, hope you all enjoy SMG4: Silence of the Cats Movie. I animated the sad/emotional scene which is kind of scenes I prepared myself to work on since I joined the team. I put so much effort into this scene [the first "pick ya Poison" scene of the kids choosing WPNZ over Karen], ensuring that I create the same emotional impact to you guys just like every other emotional scene in SMG4. I was nervous that I wasn't able to meet everyone's expectations, but seeing your reactions, All the doubts have wasted away. When animating the tension between Karen and Mr. WPNZ, I wanted to strongly emphasize the emotions from the amazing voice acting performed by Elsie Lovelock & Gianni Matragrano who were amazing. Also the crying texture that I used in the end of my scene was made by @/theartistisme43." — braden (you did an amazing job, dude, one of the scenes that made me first cry, bravo. and ay, Cantro got some credit for the textures!!!)

"The cat is figuratively out of the bag, I guess, haha. I animated the climax scene of SMG4: Silence of the Cats. For reals one of the trickiest things I've had to animate outside of the WOTFI raps, but damned if I'm not content with how it all came out. Of course, this was not a solo effort. Everyone else on the SMG4 team should be proud of themselves. Aaron, Braden, Anaidon, James, Paul, Star, ThatMadMoose. AND our newest additions, Clubbins and ShockHat. You two did amazing. Gotta also sing the praises of Gianni. Absolutely killed it as Mr. WPNZ, and was an honor to animate something with his voice. Here's to hearing him voice the armed boi more in the future. — shadow (I KNEW you worked on that badass final fight scene, haha. glad I was able to recognize your work! it was so satisfying to watch.)

Seriously, the Team has done an incredible job, and I always loved sharing their posts about their work to yall. They deserve the credit. And this is just the first arc of the year, my dear fellows. I can't wait to see what comes next, they do be scheming 😊↕️

and it's SO funny that few of the team are reblogging "you look lonely" fanart with Puzzles and WPNZ, or even the ship itself, in a crack ship kinda way. Peeps, you know what to do :)

Well, this is long enough already, so I'm going to cut things here. Again, this movie had me speechless for a whole 10 minutes. I'll also be posting my bingo cards later, which btw thank you to everyone who participated. It's been a blast! I'll see you all next time, and remember: numbers always go first!

...so anyway, heterochromia 4:

#smg4 #smg4 spoilers #smg4 mr wpnz #smg4 karen #ink reviews #most of this is me doing angry microwave noises and straight up sobbing and “YEAH KICK HIS ASS”

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