#there are barely any leaves so far but still

[xxgoldie]

lighter x reader, alcohol (lighter is drunk, nitro-fuel is alcoholic here), otherwise just pure fluff

thinking about lighter, stumbling up to you, the smell of nitro-fuel on his breath (and his shirt - he'd definitely spilled some on himself earlier, though with how unstable he was standing, you were hardly surprised). a bit of a party atmosphere had developed around steeltusk's bar tonight, and lighter had definitely had more than he should have. you had barely joined the gathering for a few minutes, relaxing a bit further from the bar, but as soon as he'd noticed you, he had made a (very wobbly) beeline for you.

"(Y/N)."

his hands went to your shoulder, using you to stabilise himself, even though his weight made you stumble a bit too.

"hi," you laughed, a rare sight to see the champion so discomposed, though he was looking into your eyes with a slightly nervewracking seriousness through those shades.

"we should get married."

it took you a couple beats to process his slurred words. heat rushed to your face, one you hoped, if someone noticed, you could blame on the one drink you'd had so far. you searched his face for the punchline, or any sort of elaboration. all you found was a similar searching - he was waiting for you to answer. he was almost pleading with his eyes, swaying a little from the alcohol - this was absurd.

"you are so drunk," was all you could muster, chuckling in disbelief. lighter collapsed against you, arms wrapping around your neck and head on your shoulder, and you swore you heard a very uncharacteristic whine leave his mouth.

"you don't want to marry me," he pouted - just how many drinks had burnice given him, that lighter lorenz, infamous red scarf of the sons of calydon, was pouting?

"hey, i didn't say that," you comforted him, instinctively petting his hair in a way he seemed to enjoy. and it wasn't a lie - it was something you had dreamed about several times, but... "i just feel like you've skipped a few steps here, you know? we're just friends, lighter. and you really are very drunk."

he picked himself up from your shoulder to look at you again, but he was so close this time, the tip of his nose barely an inch from yours, his full bodyweight still leaning on you. for the first time, you really realised the position the two of you were in, and so publicly, the crowded bar not far away. but you couldn't quite get yourself to focus on them, not when there was so little space between you, and his stupid handsome face took up your entire field of view. the musky scent of his cologne cut through the smell of nitro-fuel and it made your thoughts brain spin even more, so you waited for him to say something. you doubted you could come up with any more coherent thoughts.

"what's step one?" he said eventually. you frowned, not sure what he meant. "what?" "you said I skipped steps. what's step one?" "to marrying me??" "yeah."

once again, you had to pause to process. was this his weird, misguided, honestly really cute, way of confessing to you? there was no way - but there was a sincerity in his gaze that went past alcohol. the best answer would probably be 'ask me on a date when you're sober', but he was too pretty to be considering best answers, and your mouth moved faster than your brain did.

"probably this," you muttered, then pulled him forward by the scarf, closing the distance between you. even drunk, his reaction time was instantaneous - you were the one to initiate the kiss, but his hands were around your waist so quickly it surprised you, pulling you somehow even closer into him. it was clumsy but full of heat, and you could feel his mouth form a victorious grin against yours.

when you eventually pulled away, though, your gaze was immediately drawn away from his to the rest of the sons of calydon, who were whooping and cheering from the bar.

"yes! i told you it'd go well, lighter!" caesar called, shooting you a wink. Lighter only responded to her with a thumbs up, his head returning to rest on your shoulder again.

"did you tell him to do that?" you yelled back, head still reeling from the kiss.

"so what? neither of you were gonna take the leap sober," she replied, and you realised she wasn't behind his words - not intentionally, anyway.

"he proposed to me!"

a round of shocked laughter from the gang, except for lucy;

"he WHAT?"

i truly had no idea how to end this. but like. i love lighter so so much but i especially love him being dorky and down bad. wc: 757

[l1tw1ck]

The Ferret and the Fox

Bottom!FTM!Omega!Ferret Draco x Top!AMAB!Alpha!Fox Reader

🪄 Word Count: 3k 🪄

Draco's suppressants decide to stop working in the middle of a lecture, forcing him to leave and rest in your office. Draco wasn't thinking straight when he willingly entered an alpha's territory and inadvertently tied himself to you permanently

AFAB Language Used | Hogwarts University AU | Event Request

CW: Non-Con, Brief Somnophilia, Teacher/Student (Draco is 20) Heat, Virginity Loss, Victim Blaming, Marking, Creampie, Fingering, Manipulation, Knotting

As you're teaching your class, you and the rest of your students begin to smell someone’s pheromones. Everyone seems to be looking at Draco Malfoy, who's very red. He must be in heat. You walk over to him and lean in close to him. “Malfoy, are you alright?” 

‎ 

He jumps in surprise. He looks up at you with an adorable expression. His tail is curled up on his lap. “It looks like your heat started,” You speak to him softly. “Why don't you go rest in my office until class is over?” You should tell him to see the nurse but she's so far and he’d be safe from all the other alphas. And you might get a chance with him. Draco nods gently. You help him pack up his stuff and walk him to your office, not trusting anyone to let him go by himself.

‎ 

He sits down on the couch and takes off his coat to drape it over himself. You give him the blanket you often use during your free time to nap. “I’ll lock the door so no one can come in. If you get hungry or thirsty, you can use my water bottle and take whatever you like from my mini fridge.”

‎ 

“Okay…” He turns away from you. “Thanks.”  

‎ 

You could barely hear him but you could tell what he said based on how embarrassed he seemed. You smile and leave the room. As soon as you do so, Draco kicks off his shoes and socks before properly laying down. It doesn't take long for him to fall asleep with his and your scent mixed together to comfort him. He won't say it out loud but you're his favorite teacher and the only person in Hogwarts that he truly feels safe around and trusts. While he doesn't have any romantic feelings for you, your scent is still very comforting.

‎ 

‎ 

You walk into your office now that class is over. Since you don't have any more classes to teach today, you plan on taking him home. Most students take suppressants during the school year but when a student isn't able to do so for whatever reason, they take time off to go home since it’d be dangerous to be in their dorms. Draco shouldn't have any problems with taking suppressants but something obviously went wrong. You look at him sleeping on the couch, some of his clothes on the floor. You do a double take when you realize that he's only wearing underwear and his dress shirt. His clothes are conveniently placed in a way that allows you to see his light colored underwear soaked with slick, along with a small pool of it on the couch. You’ll never get over seeing an omega in heat. 

It doesn't help that the room is completely filled with his scent. You should resist and take him home but he looks too tempting. All of the alpha teachers are able to control themselves when met with the strong smell of an omega but there's something different about Draco. Or, really, something different about you.

You're willingly giving in to your instincts this time. You could go and do the right thing but you don't want to and you never really planned to in the first place. You’ve been attracted to Draco since he started your class this year. You never thought you’d have the opportunity to fuck him and now that you do, you're not going to give it up. You unbuckle your belt and free your hard cock, leaving your pants on to make the clean up easier.

You move onto the couch and stare at Draco’s sleeping face with a small smile. You feel sort of bad doing this while he's asleep but it's not like you’ll be taking his virginity. He’s 20, he must've had his first and many others by now. Right? Who wouldn't want him? If you ignore his personality, he's irresistible. You shrug off your uncertainty and take off his underwear. You bring it to your face and smell it, your cock aching for him. You move it away and focus on the real thing.

Draco makes a cute noise in his sleep, his fluffy ears twitching. He's just too adorable. You look at his soaked pussy in awe and run your finger up it, causing him to shiver. You bring your finger to your lips and taste his slick. As you thought, he tastes amazing. His tail curls up in response to your touch. 

You bite your bottom lip as you slowly inch your cock inside him. He’s tight but very slippery, it's not too hard to penetrate him. You moan at the feeling of being inside him. Nothing can compare to his pussy. You grin as an outline of your cock starts to appear on his stomach. You begin to slowly fuck into him. “God, you feel so good, baby.” 

Draco moans. His eyes flutter open. “Huh..?” He blinks a few more times. “Stop! What are you doing?!” He feels like crying. You're so big, it hurts like hell.

“Shh, this is your fault, Malfoy. You shouldn't have let me keep you here. Your pheromones are all over the room, you practically forced me to fuck you.”

“No…I…”

“Isn't this better than having some random person fuck you? Or do you have a boyfriend?”

Draco shakes his head, tears rapidly falling down his cheeks. “This…this is my first time!”

You pause. You’ve never seen him cry before, it's hot. “Really?” You feel your heart pounding. “That's okay, I’ll take care of you from now on.” You resume your gentle thrusts.

Draco sobs. “Why…?”

“If you didn't want this to happen, you shouldn't have let me bring you here. You don't understand how tempting you looked when I saw you sleeping.” You brush his hair out of his face. “You looked so sexy ruining my couch with your slick.”

He looks really embarrassed. Your pheromones seem to be calming him down though. Plus being in heat is really helping to sedate him.

“So just relax, okay? You deserve this.”

Draco nods teary eyed. You hold onto his waist and start to fuck him at a rough pace. He squeals and moans in pleasure, face red from embarrassment. “That’s a good boy, taking me so well.” You purr. You lean into his ear. “Love your pussy so fucking much, sweetheart.” You trail down to his neck and lightly suck on his skin.

He squeaks. “Ah…[Name]~ I’m sorry..”

You pause for a brief moment then slow down. You're shocked that he apologized. Despite the major changes he went through in the past, he's still prideful. He's really different when he's in heat. “If you're sorry then let me mark you. Now that I’ve had a taste of you, it’d be cruel to not let me have you. Besides, I should also take responsibility.”

Draco sniffles. You should feel bad for taking advantage of his current state but you just can't. He's too cute for you to let go. “Okay..” He closes his eyes and moves his head to show you his neck. 

You sink your teeth into his skin, immediately causing him to come. You lick up his blood and thrust harder. “You won't have to worry about anything from now on, sweetheart.” You come inside of him.

────────────────── 

Draco wakes up in an unfamiliar room with aches all over his body. He remembers going into heat during class…then going into your office…

Draco brings his hand to his mouth in shock. Tears run down his cheeks as he slowly begins to remember everything. He was waiting to fall in love and now he's stuck with you.

“You're finally up.” You walk into the room, holding a hot cup of tea. “I made you lemon ginger, it’ll make you feel a bit better. Oh, I also gave you some medicine for your heat. You should be okay now, at least mentally.”

He looks at you scornfully. His eyes are watery and puffy. He doesn't understand how much that's turning you on. He takes the tea despite his anger.

“You’re angry, aren't you?” You ask, sitting down at the edge of the bed. “Why didn't you take your suppressants?”

“I– I did take them!” He shouts. “I don't know what happened!”

“Shh, it's okay, sweetheart.” You rub his thigh. “Sometimes, suppressants stop working. It's rare but you’ll have to change to a different medication.”

“Don't…please don't touch me.” He's shaking very badly.

“We’re bonded now, Draco. You remember, right?”

He sniffles. “Why…”

“You know why. You let that happen to yourself. I’m sure you were conscious enough to know why you shouldn't have done that.”

“I trusted you..”

“That was a mistake. You shouldn't trust an alpha to take care of an omega in heat. In any other circumstance, I wouldn't have done anything to you, but you willingly came into my office and filled it with your scent.” You take the tea from him and place it onto the nightstand, he's shaking so much you're worried he’ll spill it and burn himself. “You know alphas have a hard time resisting.”

Draco begins to cry again. He’s whimpering and trying hard not to choke on his own tears.

“It's okay. I’ll take care of you from now on. Anything you want, I’ll do it.” You caress his cheek, pushing his hair away from his face. He begins to sob vocally, letting out visceral cries of pain. “It’ll be okay, Draco.”

You let him cry for a while and urge him to drink some tea in between. He eventually calms down.

“What will I tell my mother?” He sighs, refusing to look at you.

“Don't worry about her. I’ll make sure she won't say anything, even if you move in.”

“Wh- move in?”

“If you want to. Since you're in the university now, it won't be an issue to move out and commute from here.”

“The school wouldn't allow me to live with you.”

“You're an adult, Draco. As long as we spin the story around a bit, they’ll even insist that we live together.” You smile. “We could say you came onto me and forced me to mark you. It’s not too far from the truth.”

He frowns. He doesn't know how to feel. He finally looks at you. His cheeks redden when he notices your boner. “You- have you been hard this entire time?!”

You chuckle. “Maybe. You're just so cute when you cry.”

He looks down at his hands. “...I don’t remember what it felt like..”

“You don't?”

“It just…I know that it hurt but…”

“Do you want me to show you?”

He nods softly. “I have to be with you from now on…” He's still a little affected by his heat.

“Alright.”

Draco looks up at you timidly, his ears folded down. He’s only wearing boxers now. Your tail is swishing from side to side.

“I’ve always liked you, you know?” You happily run your hands down his body. “You're just so pretty. When I saw you walk into my class…I couldn't stop thinking about you.”

Is that why you were so kind to him?

“You always kept to yourself…it made me want to take care of you. So when I smelled your scent…I was overwhelmed.” You bring one of your hands down to his underwear. “I should've tried harder to resist but you made it so difficult.”

He whimpers at the feeling of your fingers sliding up his clothed cunt. “So….you really…hnh-”

“I love you, Draco.” 

He blushes. Even though he didn't choose you, you're the kind of person he was looking for. Someone who would love and take care of him. You smile as you notice the change in his demeanor. He's opening up to you.

“When you graduate, you won't have to worry about getting a job. You can just stay home and do whatever you like.” You remove his underwear. “You won't have to worry about anything.”

“Do…do I have to graduate?” He asks, looking at you solemnly. He's sick of Hogwarts. Even after everything that's happened, he doesn't have a single friend. Nobody trusts him or even tries to pretend they like him. Not even Harry and his friends really talk to him, they're too busy. If he doesn't have to get a job, why even bother going to that miserable place? Hogwarts used to feel more like home but after losing his friends and becoming isolated, it feels like a prison.

“Well..” You smile. “That’d make things easier.” You remove your shirt.

“I can stay here..” He feels dizzy from your scent. He triggered your alpha instincts and now you can't stop yourself from drowning him in your pheromones. “...Give you an heir..” He says almost mindlessly. You're from a long line of well respected wizards so he figures you’ll want someone to carry on that legacy.

“Draco.” Your cock is straining in your pants. “You can't say things like that to an alpha so casually.”

His tail curls. “‘M sorry..” He looks at you cutely. He's intimidated and turned on at the same time.

“It's okay, sweetheart.” You gently slide two fingers inside him. “You just have to take responsibility.”

Draco gulps, shivering with pleasure thanks to the size and roughness of your fingers. He's never been able to get off just by using his fingers but he probably could with yours.

“You're the most beautiful man I’ve ever laid my eyes on, Draco.” You look at him lovingly as you skillfully play with his pussy. “I wish our relationship started differently.”

He feels less hesitant hearing you say that. He truly believes it's his fault. “It's…it’s okay.” He looks at you with a slight smile.

“Maybe we could've had a slow burn. Where I’d help you out after class and you’d lean in a little too close…You’d blush and act like nothing happened..”

Draco starts to fantasize along with you.

“Then, some day, we'd finally go for it. My hand on your thigh, your soft lips on mine…I’d take it real slow for you.” You swarm him with loving kisses. “I’d give your pretty little tits lots of love.” You aim your kisses onto his chest. He whimpers. 

“Then I’d finger you, just like this.” You start aiming for his weak points, causing adorable moans and squirms. He shudders with pleasure and grabs your arms for stability. He's gonna come.

Draco calls out your name, toes curling as he squirts. You bring your fingers to your mouth and lick them before moving your head in between his cunt and doing the same thing. He shudders with pleasure.

You pull away. “Are you ready?”

He nods softly. His eyes trail over to your crotch, watching intently as you pull your pants down. Just seeing your hard cock through your underwear is throwing him for a loop. He has to admit, he really likes it. Draco’s mouth hangs open when he finally sees your cock in his more sober state of mind. He knows alpha’s are beyond average but this is…

“I’ll be more gentle this time.” You say, rubbing your dick along his pussy and coating it with his wetness before slowly inching it inside him. It feels agonizingly slow for you but it feels great for Draco, which is all that matters. You interlock your hand with his. His face scrunches up cutely

“Don't– don't stop–” He moans. You're stretching him out well.  

“How do you feel, baby?”

“Good– I feel good, sir~” He throws his head back and instinctively reaches for his t-cock, sliding back the hood and stroking himself gently as a dick shaped bump appears on his stomach. He looks great when he's getting fucked but there's something special about seeing him touch himself. It's hot.

You bottom out and pause. “Keep touching yourself like that for me, okay?” You gently knead his thighs.

Draco lets out a high pitched “Mhm~” as he raises his hips. He didn't think it'd ever feel this good to be so full. His eyelashes flutter beautifully as he comes again.

“Good boy.” You praise him.

He pulls his hand away and lays down, trying to catch his breath. “I…I wanna keep- keep going..”

“Are you sure?”

He nods. He's never been as sure as he is now. He's glad you didn't hold back in your office. If you didn't, he'd have no idea how amazing it feels to have you inside him, stretching him out like a new pair of boots. “I wanna feel it move..” He places his hand on his stomach. He has no clue how seductive he's being right now.

You start making short thrusts, getting him used to the feeling. “Feels okay?”

Draco nods. “‘s good-” He twitches. “You're so…so big…professor…I’m so full…”

“You like being full, baby?”

“Mhm~ I love it~” He bites his lip. There's no better tranquilizer than the combination of an alpha’s cock and pheromones. “Faster…”

You lift his legs up and roughly pound into him. “Like this?”

“Ye- yes–!” Draco moans. It looks like his heat is coming back in full swing. The medicine you gave him was pretty useless. “Ba- baby– I wanna have—” He gasps, having another orgasm.

“Don't worry, I’ll make sure to breed you properly tonight.”

His lips stretch into a wide grin. His moans get louder the longer you fuck him. His hair is a mess and his face is so, so red. You hope he remembers this time, although you're not opposed to showing him again. You cup his cheek and he leans in. His eyelids are just barely open. You’ve never felt so possessive of something or someone in your life. “Mine.” You lean into his neck and suck on the spot where you marked him. 

Draco shivers. He feels hot and dizzy. All he can think is: “knot me” “breed me” “so big” “so good” 

Your movements suddenly stutter as you feel your orgasm drawing closer. You thrust one last time before pumping him full of your seed. Draco comes again. You’re still hard.

You pull away from his neck and move him into a mating press. “One more, then I’ll knot you.” You promise, thrusting more roughly and sloppily than before. Draco wraps his arms around your back as his tail brushes against you. His head is pounding, the words “knot me” are on loop in his mind. He digs his nails into your skin.

“So deep~” He shudders, making his own markings on your back.

You're finally starting to really get affected by his pheromones. It was already pretty bad before but now, you don't feel like you're in control anymore. “‘M gonna knot you, Draco, breed you til you can't walk…fill you up with my seed..” You kiss him roughly, lightly biting on his bottom lip. Usually, it's not hard for you to go multiple rounds but there's something about Draco’s scent that’s making you more sensitive. Maybe it's because you're a pair.

“I’m coming, sweetheart-” You groan as Draco’s warm walls drag another orgasm out of you, a knot forms to keep it all inside. 

Draco smiles drunkenly, grinding his hips. “I love you..”

“I love you too.”

[multipleoccupancy]

So he was not going to get a name from her. Interesting. It clearly didn't impact him in the moment nor was the club at any risk, the sigil was clearly one from The Horned One in any case, whoever had given her that amulet was on the same side, really he didn't have all that much to worry about and if someone was handing out amulets so freely, then it only meant that more cultists would emerge in time. He wondered if Violet would be one of them in a few years.

Violet claimed she had been doing well in pretending to be a cultist, George said nothing he barely reacted in fact but he did decide he was still not keen on teenagers or really anyone under the age of twenty-five after all. She had been very careless in her decisions, it could have all gone so very differently and even now it could all still fall apart and she would end up in a trash bag bundled in with the napkins, cocktail sticks and waste foods if she wasn't careful. George knew he could easily leave her to her fate but knew better than to potentially interfere with plans far greater than himself. She was clearly marked.

With the confirmation at least, George turned away towards the door but kept himself close to the couch, spreading his arms out wide, Violet's hair pinched between his fingers as he started to chant again. His voice even in chant remained almost like a song, soothing, welcoming. As if he was not spouting out a cruel and dangerous language and string of words that was altering the memories of those beyond the room. It took a few minutes, George stood just the same as he had been, drawing in breaths between words carefully to keep the flow of the ritual perfect.

When he was finished, he did lean himself back against the arm of the couch, sitting on it briefly and carefully as he seemed to be catching his breath. He looked exhausted and paler still as if he was suddenly quite sick. "Ok." He tried, "we have to move, ready?" He didn't look it but he wasn't the one in danger.

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎 & 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓 @multipleoccupancy

"He is a devious man," she replied matter-of-factly, "but I doubt you know him. He's not from the Apocalypse Club." He was not even from this timeline! She couldn't say that to George, though. "But thank you for offering." Not that she believed anyone could stop him anyway. He was far too powerful and dangerous.

"I will tell my dad," she assured him with a frown. Violet wasn't really sure why George wanted her to do it, though. Did he hope her dad would be grateful he'd saved her life? "I was doing well until Little Tony asked to see the ritual," she couldn't help but point out, a little bit offended that he couldn't see she had actually handled the situation quite decently for a teenager! "They believed I was a cultist too."

Violet didn't want him to perform a ritual with her hair, but she wanted to be out of this horrible place. "You can, yes," she replied, unsure if he even cared about what she thought or wanted. Because he always seemed so polite, she found it hard to know when he was sincere, and when he wasn't. Did he ever say what he really meant? Or was he always just so... pleasant?

[xoxochb]

hi how about wedding night sex with percy pls ?

UHM fuck yes!!!!

cw: tons of dialogue at the beginning, fingering, implied oral (m! receiving) at the end, not proof read

——— ౨ৎ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

“have I told you how beautiful you look yet?”

“I don’t think so.” lie. he told you twenty-one times only today. “why don’t you tell me now?”

percy laughs against your neck before pecking it delicately. his hand fiddles with the top of the zipper belonging to your wedding dress. “you look beautiful. gods, I want to eat you whole.”

“what’s stopping you?” you tease. though you can already presume what he’s going to say.

“this damn dress.” he manages to get a hold on the zipper, dragging it down urgently.

“eager—” your question is cut short by percy’s lips over your own, the action alone eliciting a moan from you.

when he pulls away he speaks, “that’s enough talking for tonight, hm?”

shit weak knees. you let him re-attach his lips with yours as he slips your dress down your body, much to his surprise you’re wearing—

fuck.

“white lingerie?” he nearly breathes out. “for me?”

you shrug mischievously. percy resumes his previous actions until your shed of the white dress, somewhere now on the floor for you to discover in the morning. eagerly, his fingers fiddle with waistband of your lace panties, swiftly dragging them down your legs, you finish this process, kicking the rest off the edge of the bed.

his fingers trail the length of your inner thighs, your breath growing ragged as he reaches closer to your middle, and a shiver at the coldness of his wedding ring against your skin.

“perce, please- can you—” your sentence is cut short by a guttural moan as that same finger trailing your bare skin plugs inside of you without warning.

percy pecks his lips over your clavicle, your neck, back down to your chest and stopped over lace fabric. he pouts at this. you feel his finger reach a deeper length, the metal ring hitting you occasionally, sending a bolt of electricity through you.

you’re not entirely sure where to place your hands at first thought. but you decide if they belong anywhere it would be the raven colored hair of your husband. the mere idea that he’s your husband makes a wide grin veil your face. though when said husband’s finger curls inside you, you can’t help the pleasurable cry that leaves your mouth. the smile doesn’t stray far regardless.

you arch yourself into him, slowly rocking your hips to try and gather more friction if that’s possible. his name exits your red lips more than you’d like, unfortunately, it’s the only thing you can think of at the moment.

“perce- fuck- I-” well for starters you can’t breathe. secondly, it happens that your husband is some sort of sex god.

just when the feeling is growing overstimulating, he inserts a second finger, having you pull harshly at his hair. in response, he only laughs. you feel like you’re going to die now. though you can’t help thinking you’d rather die like this than any other way.

your tummy pools with an inferno-like heat. quickly, your peak creeping upon you like a predator to it’s prey. though the only predator here is perseus jackson who finds joy in pleasuring you until you pass out cold.

when, soon enough, with a singular swipe of his thumb, your orgasm hits you like a freight train. though percy works you through the prolonging of it, whispering quiet sweet nothings into your ear. it only half helps.

slowly, his fingers slide out from inside of you, dripping in your arousal that percy licks them clean of. you don’t try to stop the moan that the simple action causes you to let out.

still breathless and disoriented, you crawl off the bed and drop to your knees at the edge, beckoning percy to sit in front of where you sit kneeling.

“my turn?

yes, indeed it was.

[brbsoulnomming]

Heart On Your Sleeve Part 8

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

written for steddiebigbang2024 and belatedly posting here!

-----

The kids leave the next day, after Steve's heart has mostly reformed itself. It's still a little beat up and mangled, but it's clearly a heart again, and it barely hurts anymore.

He doesn't know how he'll ever be able to thank them.

Eddie doesn't call.

—

His house stops being empty.

Robin's over almost constantly, their hearts in each other's chests more often than not. He can tell Robin's worried about him, and he likes feeling her emotions - it tells him when she's upset, or sad, and he can respond without her having to say anything.

The rest of the kids are over almost as constantly, as though his house has just become the de facto hang out.

He minds it a lot less than he pretends to.

Erica sulks at him, and he can't figure out why until Lucas makes a comment about their heart sharing and she rolls her eyes so hard he's afraid they're going to pop out.

Steve frowns at her, hanging back after the others have gone on into the kitchen.

“That's an extra level of snide, even for you,” he says.

She gives him a look. “You want it directed at you?”

He holds up his hands. “What'd I do?”

Her look only becomes more unimpressed. “You had my brother over for your little healing pow-wow? He wasn't even part of Scoops Troop.”

Oh.

That's.

Oh.

Never in a hundred years did he think Erica Sinclair would be throwing a fit because she didn't get to be a part of their group heart sharing, but here it is.

“You want to swap?” Steve asks.

Erica scoffs at him. “I don't need your pity heart exchange.”

“It's not pity,” he protests.

This time the look practically burns through him.

“Robin and I do it all the time,” he insists. “It's easier. It means we can understand the way the other one feels without having to figure out how to say it.”

Her eyebrows raise. “And you want to know how I feel?”

Steve holds out his hand in response.

She stares at him for a long moment, then sighs in a far too long suffering manner before she takes her heart out and gives it to him. He exchanges his for hers, and -

“Is it messed up again?” Dustin demands. “Why didn't you tell me?”

He honestly isn't sure if the surge of somewhat affectionate irritation he feels is his or Erica's, and he exchanges what he suspects is a near identical look with her.

Dustin narrows his eyes at them. “What's this look you're doing, I really don't like it on both of you.”

“That's because it's bad news for you,” Erica retorts.

“We're just swapping,” Steve says.

“It's what you do when someone is a little too hard headed and out of touch with their feelings to realize how insensitive they're being.”

That is absolutely not what Steve had been going for, but Erica says it with such superiority and Dustin is looking so contemplative at it that he just sighs and goes with it.

Erica shoots him a smug little look - she knows exactly what she's doing and how he feels about it.

“Mike!” Dustin shouts. “Come here, we're swapping, so you can know that I'm right!”

Steve groans, but there's no stopping it now.

Swaps are called to settle arguments, to prove that this movie really is scary guys come on, for a dozen other reasons until Steve honestly can't be sure who has whose heart at any given moment.

He'd worry about the effects of so much heart swapping, but - the kids seem happy. Sometimes he even catches them just sitting with each other and swapping, and after everything they've lost - who is he to say what's healthy and what isn't?

Steve can't complain.

Well. He can, and he does, but he also knows this is probably the happiest he's ever been in this house, so he doesn't complain too much.

—

Eddie still doesn't call.

He doesn't answer, either, when Steve calls him. Any of the times Steve calls him.

Steve drives out there, once, stupidly. He's pretty sure he can hear Eddie's music, but the trailer’s dark, and no one answers.

Steve takes the hint after that.

He doesn't let anyone but Robin swap with him for a while, as long as he can get away with. He doesn't really have a name for what he's feeling - he doesn't want to put a name to what he's feeling - and she doesn't make him.

—

The Hopper-Byers are moving.

None of the party take it well, but it seems to hit Max the hardest.

Or at least, he assumes it does, because she's suddenly not over for a week straight, and Steve knows avoidance when he sees it.

He finds her sitting at the skate park, all alone, but she doesn't protest when he sits down next to her.

“Swap?” Steve asks softly.

Max rolls her eyes. “I'm fine.”

He gives her the most unimpressed look he can muster.

She scoffs, then gives him one right back. “Okay, so, what, you want to feel angry and miserable too?”

Steve weighs his options for a moment, considering how to respond, then decides just to go for honesty. “Yeah,” he says simply. “I'm not here just for the good stuff, Mayfield, I'm here for all of it.”

She looks at him for a long moment, her expression hard. Then she wrenches her chest open.

He pops his open, too, taking his heart out and offering it to her. Steve expects her to take it and put her own in his hand, but instead she shoves her own heart into his chest before he can so much as blink, snatching his out of his hand. He blinks at her, but - yeah, okay, fine, that works.

She is angry, and miserable. She hated Billy, and she's still sad, and El is the only one who really gets her, and she knows that's not true, and everyone leaves, and he hasn't left, and she loves and she hates and she's so tired.

Steve can't really put any of it into words, but he doesn't have to.

He just has to be there.

—

School starts, and it gets quieter. He and Dustin still have their weekly movie nights, and he plays ball with Lucas, cooks dinner with Max, but Robin's the only one over as much as she used to be.

It's - actually fine, this time. He gets a job at Family Video, and he hangs out with Robin and spends time with the kids and goes on dates, and he's still happy.

Well, except the going on dates bit. Something's missing, something obvious, but he tells himself that's fine, too.

—

Dustin starts talking about Eddie, a few months into school.

Well, he talks about Hellfire, which Steve doesn't really put together at first, but he's happy Dustin's having fun with his club.

When he mentions Eddie, Steve probes a little, asks how he joined up. Dustin lights up, talking about how Eddie looked out for them starting from day one, even if he's definitely a little scary at times, and Steve -

“Swap?” Robin asks the second she gets to his house later, like she took one look at him and knew he needed it.

They both need it, actually.

She has feelings about Vickie, and he has feelings about Eddie, and they're both complicated and messy and neither of them know what to do about it.

“Ask her out,” Steve tells her.

“She doesn't even like girls!”

“How do you know?”

“How do you know?”

And that's - point, okay, Steve has nothing to counter that. Yet. He just has to start collecting proof.

Robin feels his intentions and gives a dramatic huff, but she doesn't try to stop him.

She won't admit it, but she's grateful.

“Do you regret asking Eddie out?” she asks.

He makes a face. “I mean, I didn't ask him out so much as take him out a bunch of times, realize like halfway through it that's what I was doing, and then he ran the second I made it obvious, so… I guess I regret not actually asking him.”

She considers that. “Do you think it would have changed anything?”

“I don't know,” he admits. “Maybe I could have made it so he didn't feel like he had to run, maybe we could have still been friends? I wish I'd known what I was doing and I'd done it different, but… I think I'd regret it more if I didn't try at all.”

She drops her shoulder against his. “Of course you would. You always go for what you want, it's like you have no fear.”

He has plenty of fear - she's felt it - but not about shooting his shot. She's right; he's a man of action, and he's not sure he knows how to be anything else.

“Ugh, let's stop talking about it. I'm glad he's still a good guy and is watching out for the little shits, end of story.”

It's not the end of the story, but for now, they both let it be.

—

Dustin calls him to beg him to play in Hellfire with him, and Steve groans audibly.

“Does Eddie know you're asking me?” he asks.

Dustin scoffs. “Of course not, but I have to show up with someone on Friday.”

Steve frowns. “On Friday? That's the championship game. Lucas is playing.”

Dustin groans, and Steve makes a little bit of a face at himself when he realizes the kid sounds almost exactly like him.

“Don't remind me,” Dustin grumbles. “He's the reason we have to find someone in the first place.”

“Lucas asked you to find someone to sub in for him?”

Steve doesn't even need Dustin's heart to be able to tell the silence that follows is guilty as hell.

“Dustin,” Steve says.

“Ugh, fine! Lucas asked us to come to the stupid game. He asked us to get Eddie to move Hellfire so he wouldn't miss the last session.”

“And did you?” Steve prompts.

“Of course!” Dustin says, indignant. “Eddie was pissed. Called Lucas a traitor, said now it was our responsibility to find someone to fill in for Lucas since he ditched us.”

That - isn’t what Steve was expecting at all.

“And instead of standing up for Lucas, you're doing what Eddie says?”

“He ditched us!” Dustin insists.

Steve pinches the bridge of his nose. “Go swap with Lucas.”

Dustin makes an almost incomprehensible noise of protest.

“Swap with Lucas, and tell him what Eddie said. If you guys come to an agreement and you still need a sub, I'll think about it.”

He'd rather watch Lucas play, and that's sure as hell what he's going to do if Dustin doesn't follow through, but if both Lucas and Dustin agree, then he'll sub in.

Not just to give Eddie a piece of his mind about this whole thing.

“You're no help!” Dustin retorts, hanging the phone up.

Robin leans against him. “Are we talking about it now?”

He considers that, then wordlessly takes his heart out and offers it to her. They swap, sitting in silence for a moment as they adjust to each other's feelings.

She's upset. He is, too, though not about exactly the same thing.

“I'm still not mad at him for how things went between him and me,” he says.

“I am,” she replies, sharp and firm. “He made your heart hurt, I still think I should get to kick his ass.”

It's not Eddie's fault, though, not as far as Steve's concerned. Steve was the one that fumbled around without knowing what he was doing, that came on too strong. He didn't get it then, but now that he knows Robin and Will and how difficult things are for them - he understands it better.

But one of the things that made Steve fall for Eddie in the first place was the way he watched out for people. It wasn't the same way Steve did it, but - they were both protective, both willing to take the hits so other people wouldn't have to. It's disappointing to see how he's pitting the kids against each other like this.

He wishes they were still friends, wishes he could call him and ask what was going on.

“If he hurts one of the kids’ hearts, then you can kick his ass,” he says finally, once he's worked through his feelings and felt Robin's support.

—

It comes back, because it always does.

It comes back, and Eddie comes back, and Steve wasn't expecting that.

—

There's tension in the boathouse even after everything's been explained, and Steve knows everyone can feel it.

Knows because it's only a few moments before Dustin's announcing, “Hearts out! We'll show you we mean it, right, guys?”

Steve sneaks a look over at Max. He still hasn't gotten a really good look at her heart since after the 4th, but maybe - no, she clearly hasn't shown anyone else here, because she's gone pale, and she looks a combination of pissed and afraid.

“Dustin,” Steve snaps, trying to keep the irritation out of his voice and failing a little. “Did you forget that some of us have hearts that aren't all that reassuring to see?”

Dustin's expression scrunches for a moment, and Steve feels most of his irritation fade away as he realizes that, yeah, Dustin did forget that.

“Oh,” Dustin says quietly. “It's okay, Steve, you don't-”

“No,” he cuts him off, still a little annoyed. “Look, we all know that I'm the one causing doubt here, right? I'll show my heart so Munson knows I mean it and we can get this over with.”

He doesn't want to, but he wants even less for this to put a spotlight on Max.

So he takes his heart out, gets back in close enough for Eddie to see it, says, “We're not lying, man, I promise.”

His heart beats true, true, true in his hands, but Eddie's eyes are going wide and wet as he stares at Steve's heart, and he isn't any less pale.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he whispers. “What the hell happened?”

“Nothing you have to worry about,” he replies, putting his heart back in his chest as soon as he can. “It's not going to happen to you.”

It comes out a little more protective than he'd intended, and it makes Eddie's eyes dart up to his, trying to search for something in there. Steve can't tell what, and he doesn't have Eddie's heart in his chest to help him out.

Strange, how quickly he's come to rely on having that familiarity with those he cares about.

Less strange that Eddie is still someone he cares about.

“Do you want to see mine?” Eddie asks, soft enough that Steve's pretty sure he's the only one who can hear it.

Steve does, is the thing. He really does.

But not like this.

“Do you want me to?” he asks, just as soft.

Eddie looks away, silent enough that Steve knows what the answer is without him saying anything.

“People try to make me show it all the time,” Eddie says, a little bitter. “I'm not trustworthy, you know. I'm not honest. I'm just going to screw them over.”

Steve's quiet for a moment, unsure what to say. He doesn't know how to tell him that Steve's never seen him that way, that all those other people are stupid.

Finally, he settles on, “I still haven't asked.”

Eddie turns to look at him again, his eyes gone molten. “No,” he says softly. “You haven't.”

Steve gives a half shrug. “There you go then.”

-----

This is already written, and my plan is to post one part a day until it's all up here!

Taglist (always happy to add more to this if anyone wants): @fairytalesreality @lostonceandneverfound @wheneverfeasible @awkwardgravity1 @theintrovertedintrovert @thewickedkat @ravenfrog @scarlet-malfoy @missmagillicuddy @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @ollyxar @cringe-culture-is-dead-99 @thedragonsaunt @makewavesandwar @cryptid-system @ajeff855 @mae-liz @the-fantastical-asexual @jettestar @warlordess @persnicketysquares @samsoble @my-love-of-books @mydysfunctionallife @dreamercec @holyangelstudentuniverse @breealtair @shunna @xtraordinarally @thatdamnfan @justalittledrainbamage @strangerfolks @disrespectedgoatman @amber-ambience @anxietyfulloption @thepossummoldypasta @irregular-child @th30ra3k3n

[misswynters]

𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭

featuring. caitlyn kiramman x reader

warnings: only angsty and hurt, no comfort

synopsis: In which you and cait are friends with benefits and she decides that you aren’t worth it.

requested! by @trikalovski

There you stood in a room, as the cold air of Piltover’s rooftops seemed sharper than ever. The beautiful midnight sky cloaked in thick clouds, hiding the stars. Shadows twisted between the flickering lights below, the city’s tall spires casting an oppressive atmosphere. It was a world untouched by the grime and grit of the undercity, yet somehow, you felt even filthier here, wrapped in this strange, transient arrangement with Piltover’s prodigal daughter.

A small, hidden room on the upper floors of an old building became your meeting place, a secluded space to avoid curious eyes. Caitlyn liked it for its anonymity, far from the eyes of her colleagues and, more importantly, her family. The space was sparsely furnished, with only a worn couch and dim light filtering through cracked windows. Cold and utilitarian, just like her.

Tonight, you’d waited longer than usual, feeling the tension knotting in your stomach as each second passed. This wasn’t how you’d imagined it would feel; the anticipation gnawing at you was nothing like the excitement you once felt. When Caitlyn finally arrived, you barely heard her footsteps, but you knew from her sharp, purposeful stride that she was irritated. She walked in, her coat still on, eyes shadowed with fatigue and annoyance as they landed on you.

“You’re here,” she said flatly, as if it were an inconvenience.

“Yeah,” you replied, watching her carefully, feeling a strange mix of longing and bitterness coil inside you. For a moment, silence filled the room, and you could sense the weight of her exhaustion, the frustration simmering just beneath her cool exterior. There was something about her tonight that felt colder, more detached.

As she shrugged off her coat and tossed it on the couch, you decided you couldn’t keep quiet any longer. “Cait… we need to talk,” you said, your voice trembling despite your best efforts to sound calm.

She shot you a sharp glance, clearly annoyed, already reaching for the buttons on her cuffs as if eager to skip past whatever you were going to say. “Really? You want to do this now?” she asked, a hint of exasperation in her tone. “I’ve had a long day, and I’m not in the mood for whatever this is.”

You took a deep breath, bracing yourself. “I just… I need to know what this is to you. What I am to you,” you said, barely able to keep the vulnerability from showing.

Caitlyn’s gaze hardened, her hands pausing as she looked at you with a cool detachment that cut deeper than any words could. “What you are?” she repeated, almost mockingly. “I thought that was pretty clear from the start.”

Your heart sank as her words hit you with brutal clarity, but you forced yourself to press on. “I thought… maybe things had changed. That maybe this was something more than just… just a way to pass time.”

A bitter chuckle escaped her lips, and she shook her head. “You’re delusional if you thought this was more than what it is,” she replied bluntly. “You’re a distraction, something to take my mind off everything else. That’s all.”

Her words stung, each one landing like a knife twisting in your chest. You tried to hold back the emotions that were threatening to spill over, but the pain was raw and uncontainable. “So that’s it?” you managed, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’m just something to keep you entertained, something to make you forget about Vi, Jinx and the damn war?”

“Yes,” she replied coldly, not a trace of remorse in her tone. “If that bothers you, you’re free to leave. No one’s forcing you to stay.” Her callousness was shocking, but you could feel the tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, the anger and hurt bubbling up until you couldn’t contain it any longer. “I thought you cared,” you said, hating how desperate you sounded, hating how vulnerable she’d made you feel.

Caitlyn crossed her arms, a faint sneer on her lips as she looked at you with a mixture of irritation and pity. “Feelings are a luxury I can’t afford right now,” she said, her voice dripping with disdain. “I have responsibilities, a city to protect. You think I have time for… romance? For whatever it is you think this was?”

The coldness in her words, the absolute dismissal of everything you’d felt for her, was more than you could bear. “Then why keep coming back to me? Why use me like this if I mean nothing to you?” you demanded, a spark of anger igniting in your chest despite the heartache.

“Because you’re convenient,” she replied bluntly, her words like a slap to the face. “Because you don’t ask questions, or at least I thought you didn’t.” She took a step closer, her gaze piercing, unapologetic. “And because if you don’t want this, there are plenty of others who would.”

The finality in her words hit you like a blow, and the anger drained away, leaving only a hollow ache in its place. She was willing to replace you with no hesitation or remorse. Just a cold, unfeeling practicality that made it clear just how little you’d ever meant to her.

“So that’s it then?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper, your hands clenched at your sides to stop them from trembling. “You’d throw me away like I’m nothing?”

“If that’s what it takes,” Caitlyn replied without hesitation, her gaze steady and unforgiving. “I don’t have time for drama, for emotional attachments that complicate things. If you want more, you’re in the wrong place.”

You swallowed hard, feeling a tear slip down your cheek despite your best efforts to hold it back. “I thought… I thought maybe you felt something for me,” you admitted, your voice breaking slightly.

She scoffed, shaking her head as if your words were an inconvenience. “Feel something? I told you from the beginning what this was. If you decided to make it something more, that’s your problem, not mine.”

You felt your heart shatter at the casual cruelty in her voice, the complete lack of empathy or care. She didn’t care about you, and she never had. You’d been nothing more than a means to an end, a distraction she could discard whenever it suited her. Taking a shaky breath, you nodded, swallowing the pain as best you could. “Fine,” you said quietly, barely able to keep the bitterness from seeping into your voice. “If that’s all I am to you… then I’ll leave.”

“Good,” she replied curtly, turning away without a second thought, as if you were already gone. “It’s for the best.”

You hesitated, feeling the sting of her words, the finality of her dismissal. She didn’t look back, didn’t offer any parting words or a hint of regret. She simply walked away, her focus already elsewhere, leaving you standing alone in the cold, empty room that had once felt like a place of refuge. As you walked out, you felt the weight of every unspoken word, every shattered hope. Caitlyn had used you, and she hadn’t cared. The realization hit like a punch to the gut, leaving you feeling hollow, betrayed, and utterly alone. And as you stepped back into the shadows, the familiar bitterness of the undercity swallowed you whole, the echoes of her callous words lingering long after you’d left her world behind.

taglist: @thesevi0lentdelights @diffusebread @xxblairslairxx @ekkosh

[damiansgoodgirll]

WOOOOO THE REQUESTS ARE BACK!!!! I’ve been looking forward to this day.

SO

Would it be entirely insane of me to ask for a Damian x Fem! Reader comfort fic.

Basically

Damian gets home and finds reader has had a horrible week while he was gone and he just comes home, gives her all the love.

Kisses, cuddles, hugs…comfort food.

JUST LOADED WITH ALL THE FLUFF

What ever you want, just fluff and tlc. Maybe even comfort sex if you wanna throw smut in there cause comfort.

What ever you want. I enjoy anything you write tbh.

damian priest x reader

likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated!

‼️ a lot of comfort and love

walking zombie

you were tired.

no, not tired - exhausted. and not only physically but mentally too.

as christmas approached, work suddenly multiplied and you found yourself from working almost 12 hours a day.

barely getting any sleep or eating unhealthy food, you got to the point where you were almost ready to explode.

you and damian barely saw each other. if you were at home, he was travelling for work and if he was at home, you were either at work or passed out in bed.

you missed him. you missed his comfort, his hugs, his sweet kisses, his smile, his hands over your body. you missed him and you felt like you’ve been neglecting him, hating yourself even more.

damian understood.

he knew how much you loved your job even if he didn’t agree on the overworking part, he still supported you and tried to help you as much as he could around the house.

you didn’t know how it happened but on friday afternoon you got to leave work earlier. a smile spreading over your face as you ran into your car and drove back home.

there was peace as damian wasn’t home yet - he’s been working almost all week and you couldn’t wait to see him. he was supposed to come back around dinner time and a sweet idea of cooking him a welcome home dinner crossed your mind but the moment you stood up and reached for the kitchen, all of your energies left your body.

you loved damian so much but you weren’t in the mood for cooking. you weren’t in the mood for making a mess in the kitchen knowing that you would have to clean up everything. you just weren’t in the mood.

instead, you opted for taking a warm shower. you needed to release some stress and a shower was all that you needed. looking for something to wear, you found a damian’s hoodie and a pair of his boxers - you loved the way his clothes smelled of him - so you opted for those.

once in the shower you felt all your muscles relax and thinking that the weekend was approaching put you in a good mood. you already imagined yourself spending all weekend in bed with damian, eating chocolate and watching romantic christmas movies - that was your meaning of paradise.

feeling a little relaxed, you stepped out of the shower and did your short skin care routine before wearing your boyfriend’s clothes and heading back to the living room.

you were so eager to see him after a week that you tried your best to stay awake and wait for him but the moment your head touched the comfort of your couch, you were far gone.

a creaky noise woke you up. coming from the front door, your eyes opened a little and saw damian’s figure standing in front of you as he was putting his suitcase on the floor.

“damian…” your tired voice made him turn to look at you.

“hey mi amor, i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to wake you up” he immediately apologised when he saw your sleepy face.

you fell asleep? “what - what you mean? what time is it?”

“it’s already nine o’clock” he smiled.

“what? i’ve slept for three hours? i wanted to make dinner for you and me…i can’t believe i slept all this time” you were slightly disappointed in yourself. you wanted to wait for him. you wanted to welcome him home and yet you managed to fall asleep.

“woah, mi amor, take it easy, it’s okay, you were tired and you rested a little bit, nothing’s wrong with that…” damian slowly approached you and sat down on the couch next to you.

“i wanted to make something nice for your welcome home” you confessed making him smile even more “but i fell asleep, i’m sorry…”

“why are you apologising hermosa?” his soft voice asked.

“because i really wanted to do something for you…but i just had the worst week of my life, i really missed having you here, i even took a shower to relax myself and i still managed to mess it up…” you didn’t mean to sound so vulnerable but the week that just passed took a big toll on you and you were feeling all of the stress and anxiety left behind.

“you don’t have to do anything for me hermosa” his hand gently took your chin and made you look into his eyes “you had a rough week and you have all the right to take time for yourself…in fact, why don’t you stay here, you can rest a little more if you want, i’ll take a quick shower and then i’ll order take out for the both of us? i missed you so much this week and i wanna take care of you…”

how could you say no when he asked so politely?

“okay…” you gave up knowing that he wouldn’t take a no for an answer.

“perfect” he smiled before leaving a gentle peck on your lips “rest a little mi amor, i’ll wake you up when food comes, you look like a zombie”

you laughed a little “i feel like a zombie…”

“that’s why you gotta rest” he reminded you.

softly closing your eyes, it took you less than a minute to fall back asleep. damian was cautious and trying to make less noises possible as he moved around the house.

quickly washing himself, he changed into more comfortable clothes and ordered some food. he unpacked his suitcase and once everything was done, he sat on the couch next to you. turning the tv on, he put on something fun to watch as his mind wasn’t in the mood for some kind of weird plots.

feeling a shiver down his spine, he looked at you and saw how curled up on yourself you were. he took a fluffy blanket and gently covered your body.

hearing a knock on the door, he stood up and got the food.

“amor…” he whispered in your ear, trying to wake you up gently. leaving a soft kiss on your cheek, you felt something tickling you “wake up princesa, food is ready…”

yawning, you opened your eyes and the first thing you noticed was the blanked upon your body. before you could ask damian about it, he answered for you “you seemed cold, i wanted you to be comfortable” he said.

your heart melted. damian was so thoughtful and you knew you couldn’t live without him “thank you” you genuinely smiled.

“shall we eat? cause i’m starving” he joked making you smile.

“oh absolutely…”

“here, come here baby, i wanna feel you close” damian patted next to him as you sat back on the couch “no, not there, here” he pointed to his lap.

“how are we going to eat in that position?” you asked.

“trust me, i’ll find a way, i just wanna have you close” and so you sat on his lap.

it was a little uncomfortable for him to eat but he wouldn’t tell you. he missed you and he knew that you missed him too. from the way you were laid on his chest, your head between his shoulder and neck as you ate the hamburger he got for you, watching whatever the tv was playing.

you missed soft moments like those.

once finished damian insisted that you stayed there on the couch as he cleaned the coffee table from all those food papers.

“how are you feeling hermosa?” he asked once he sat on the couch with you in his lap again.

“better…”

“yes?” he softly asked.

“yeah, i feel like it’s you…you got me in a good mood” you snuggled your head between his shoulder and face again as you inhaled his scent.

“well, i’m glad to hear that” he smiled “you tired?”

“no, not physically at least, even if my body it’s a wreck” you joked but before you could speak, damian’s hand slipped under your shirt and began to massage and softly stroke your back.

“relax your body baby, and relax your mind…i’m here now” he whispered before his lips touched the skin of your face “relax against me” and you did as he told you.

while his hand was working magic on your back, his lips kept leaving soft kisses over your face, making you completely relaxed into your lover’s arms.

“we’re gonna stay in bed all weekend baby” he whispered making you nod your head “and i’m gonna properly take care of you, you need to relax and rest” and you honestly loved that idea.

“dam…” you whispered.

“mh?” he softly looked down at you.

“thank you, for everything…”

“don’t thank me, i love you, i love taking care of you” he smiled before gently kissing you. you missed having his lips on yours “close your eyes baby, let me take control…you’re safe”

and in fact, you knew that you were in good hands.

[bring-forth-his-sac]

negan x reader mirror on the ceiling👀😏🙏

thank you so much for the request!! <3

tags: !NSFW!, mirror sex, swearing, no foreplay straight to sex, pet names, dirty talk, mentions of potential cucking? mentions of sex tapes,

word count: 1.7k

Pairing: Saviors Era Negan x f!reader

You’re laughing when Negan walks in.

You can’t help it, especially when there’s a gigantic mirror that’s been hoisted up and basically strapped to the ceiling. 

By now, you know the drill whenever you get ordered up to Negan’s room. After months of teasing each other, the dam broke a few weeks back and ever since then, you’ve been going at it like animals, unable to keep your hands off each other. 

Officially speaking, you’re not one of the wives. There’s no title or open declaration to whatever is going on between you both. No one should know about you two, though with Negan’s big mouth, it’s hard to tell if your secrecy is holding up or if everyone is too scared to say they know what’s going on.

As far as you're concerned, Negan has kept things under wraps, coming up with excuses to justify why he needs to talk to you in private. He does this all while avoiding the real reason— he’s finally fed up with you giving him bedroom eyes all day.

Turning to look at him, you see Negan’s eyes flicker up from your ass to meet your gaze. You smirk, pointing up at your reflection “Really? How did you even get that up there?”.

Negan chuckles, strolling over to place Lucille on his armchair “I didn’t put it up there, darlin”. 

Your lips press together into a thin line as you watch him. He’s only been here for about twenty seconds and you can already tell he’s more teasing than usual. Whether that’ll make things more fun or annoying, you’re unsure.

“No shit, Sherlock” you scoff, planting your hands on your hips “but what’s the point of it?”.

He doesn’t answer straight away. Instead, he lowers his head, watching you through his lashes with a steady, knowing gaze. Negan knows the answer and he’s well aware that you know too. You just want to hear him say it.

“Negan,” you say as a warning when he remains silent “y’know if you just ordered me up here to be a dick, I’ll leave again”.

Rolling his eyes dramatically, he comes closer. “C’mon, you know I got it so I can watch your ass bounce when you’re riding me” Negan grins, unzipping his leather jacket.

”Oh so the view isn’t good enough when I’m doing all the work on your dick?” You reply, crossing your arms defensively.

This is how you and Negan communicate best, playfully bickering back and forth like an old married couple… which is ironic when you’re the only one he’s fucking that he’s not married to.

“It’s a terrific view, baby, but what can I say? I miss that fine ass of yours” pulling you flush against his chest, Negan’s hands glide down to squeeze your backside possessively. 

You narrow your eyes at him, trying to maintain a glare but it's clear your faux annoyance is starting to wane.

“But that’s not all I miss,” Negan continues “it’s been a whole damn week without my dick being in your sweet…” 

His lips find your neck, a lingering kiss making its home there. 

“Tight…” another kiss, edging up by your jawline this time. His hands still firmly grip your ass, pressing his growing erection against you.

“Warm…” Negan gives you a peck on your cheek, right by your mouth “pussy”. 

Then, with a confident grin, he closes the distance, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. As soon as your lips meet, any semblance of resistance crumbles. Clothes become inconvenient obstacles, hindering the reunion of your bare skin.

Hands fumble with belts and zippers, shirts are yanked over heads and before you know it, you’re naked and sliding onto his lap.

Negan sits at the top of his bed, pillows pushed up by the headboard as his hands trail down your naked form. He traces the curves of your waist and the slope of your hips before dipping between your thighs to lightly tease your core.

You look up at the ceiling to take in the large mirror that now dominates the space above you. Your own skeptical expression meets your gaze. It’s not an angle you’re used to but you can definitely see a lot.

Negan joins you, letting his head fall back on the pillows. Bringing his hands up, you both watch as Negan’s hands go around the curve of your ass and up your back, losing sight as your hair covers them.

“Just how I imagined” he muses, his grip coming back down to lightly hold your hips. You look down at him and Negan meets your gaze with a smirk.

Taking a deep breath, you lift yourself up. “You haven’t tried this out with one of the wives yet?” you refer to the mirror while teasingly lowering yourself just enough for Negan to feel your pussy.

The look he gives you is almost quizzical as he tries to simultaneously suppress a moan. “Nah, wanted to break it in with someone who’d actually appreciate the effort” he grunts as he feels you.

Slowly, you begin to sink down onto him, your slick folds parting around his thick shaft. You gasp softly at the stretch, your inner walls clenching and fluttering around his length.

Inch by inch, you envelop him. Negan’s head falls back with a low groan but luckily, he can still see. When your ass meets his thighs, with his manhood fully inside of you, Negan can’t help but let out a string of praise and admiration. 

"Fuck, doll, you drive me wild,” he praises “a fuckin’ natural if I’ve ever seen one, damn it’s a talent how much your pretty face turns me on” 

Slowly, you move. There’s no need to rush, especially if the reasoning behind this is to truly savor the mirror’s view. Lifting your hips, you rise until only the tip of Negan remains inside of you before sinking back down. 

You follow that rhythm, gradually increasing your pace but never bouncing up and down on him. You want him to relish in each movement as you ride him. 

In the mirror, Negan watches as the curve of your ass cheeks rise and fall in a mesmerizing rhythm. The reflection gives a different light to your body, highlighting the smooth expanse of skin and the hypnotizing plush of your ass.

Just when Negan thought he’d seen all of you, this blows him away all over again.

As if Negan doesn’t feel cocky enough, the mere sight of you riding him makes him even more emboldened. Bringing eyes veiled with lust back to you, he reaches around to grasp your ass, guiding your movements.

“That’s it, baby,” he mutters, his fingers digging into the soft flesh, kneading and squeezing “you’ll be the death of me but hell, at least I’ll enjoy every fuckin’ second”.

With quick and sudden movements, Negan flips you onto your back. You land with an “oof!” as Negan slips out of you. He quickly settles between your legs, his hands gripping your thighs as he lifts them up and out to the sides.

Your eyes go up to the mirror and you see yourself. The flush on your cheeks, the parted lips and the way your back arches towards yourself as Negan fills you makes you wonder if Negan actually had a good idea including this mirror. 

Negan leans in close, his voice dropping to a low, sultry tone. "You like looking, doll? You're soaking my sheets, y’know that?" he punctuates his words with a deep thrust “Must really like this mirror idea now, huh?”.

Your reflection stares back at you, eyes wide and slightly unfocused as you near your climax.

His dirty talk borders on taunting as he fucks into you, each word dripping with a certain arrogance only Negan can make sexy. “It’s like a slip and slide down here!” he chuckles “Aw baby, loving every second of seeing yourself get fucked, is that it?”.

Negan’s filthy words push you over the edge and you watch as your body tenses. Negan fucks you through it, not wanting to slow down even though he can feel his own release so close. 

“Damn, you’re easy,” he teases but he has no time to be smug. Hurriedly pulling out from your warmth, Negan only gives himself a few strokes before erupting onto your stomach. Your body twitches from your high as his cum splatters on to your skin, streaks of Negan coating you.

Negan flops down beside you when he finishes, both of you trying to catch your breath. The mirror shows two dishevelled people – sweat glistening on their skin, hair mussed, and your stomach marked with Negan’s release. 

“You look real pretty when you’re fucked senseless” his voice is a low gravelly tone that almost makes you sleepy. And the softness of his bed practically begs you to stay and take a nap with him by your side.

Yet Negan always has a way of keeping you on your feet, not giving you any time to let the sleepiness fester. “I think next time, we should make a sex tape,” he announces.

You wait for him to laugh but when he doesn’t, you grumble “Do it with one of your wives”.

“Noooooo” he whines, moving on to his side so he can face you properly “I wanna do it with you, so I can have that pretty face on tape and watch it over and over again”.

Negan smirks at the mere thought of it “Hell, I might even show it to the wives, might help them figure out how to get the job done if you know what I–”.

Grabbing a pillow from behind your head, you hit him with it.

“You talk too much,” you snark, biting your lip to stop a giggle from escaping “and no, I’m not making an educational sex tape for you to show your wives”.

Negan narrows his eyes when the pillow falls from his face, scooching closer before planting a kiss on your shoulder. “Think about it?” he coaxes “If you don’t want to record it, that’s fine, baby… the wives can just watch the next time you’re here”.

In response, you hit him with the pillow. Again.

gif made from scenepack provided by harleys.scenes on insta <3

[sweetshuga]

𝑺𝒎𝒖𝒕𝒎𝒂𝒔 𝑫𝒂𝒚 𝟥 ✰ 𝑴𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝑺𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐

��𝒄. 𝟩𝟤𝟢

𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆. English is not my first language! 𝑴𝑫𝑵𝑰

One of the most important things on your checklist to do before Christmas was baking, and brownies were just the perfect thing to bake. It wasn’t difficult to make and didn’t need as many ingredients. You could’ve just bought a brownie mix, but who were you kidding? You wanted to make it yourself, plus the taste of a homemade brownie was far better than any store bought one.

As you hum a tune under your breath while mixing up the ingredients, a pair of arms wrapped around your waist from behind, accompanied by a chin on your shoulder. A sleepy voice rasped from behind you, "What are you making baby?" Matt was taking a nap when you arrived from the store, and now he had woken up, leaving soft sleepy kisses on your nape.

Your body shivered as his lips grazed your neck over and over again, "Brownies." His face lit up, "can I help? C’mon, lemme help you sweetheart," his right arm left your waist, his left still clutched around you. Matt gently grasped your hand and helped you mix the ingredients, nuzzling into your neck while he did so.

The two of you finished making the batter of the brownie and you set the bowl aside to oil the pan, but you suddenly had the urge to piss. "Shit, I need the bathroom, can you oil this up for me please?" Matt nodded with a smile, "anything for you sweets," you pecked his cheek before making your way to the bathroom.

𓆩♡𓆪

When you walked back into the kitchen, the pan was gone, making you raise your eyebrows. Matt noticed your confused expression and chuckled, slightly more awake now as he leaned against the kitchen counter with his arms folded. "I put it in the oven," you made a small "oh" sound before chuckling yourself. "Thanks baby," you said, walking towards him.

Matt pulled you forward, wrapping his arms around your waist again. He ducked his head down and immediately nuzzled in your neck, "mm, you smell so good, like brownies." You laughed in amused, "is that so?" He nodded against you, "mhm, makes me wanna eat you." A shiver ran down your spine, and he smirked against your neck when he felt it.

You clutched onto the edge of the counter as Matt pulled your hips back against him in languid but deep thrusts. He wanted to keep it slow and really savor the feeling of your tight pussy wrapped around his thick shaft, but today just wasn’t that 'slow and sensual' kinda day. As much as he wanted to go slow, his hips picked up pace. His need overpowering his want.

The timer suddenly went off, making his hips halt, an annoyed groan leaving his lips. You chuckled breathlessly before leaning to the side – without making him pull out – and turned off the oven. "Don’t worry, we’ve to let the brownies cool." You reassured him and pushed back against him, ready for more.

Matt chuckled in slight amusement, "oh I’m not worrying alright, and look at you, so needy," he slapped your ass, making you jolt forward. He groaned when he felt your inner walls clench around him, caressing the reddening skin on your ass before letting his hands travel back to your hips and waist. Holding them in an iron grip as he surged forward again and again, hitting spots he knew would turn you dumb with pleasure.

Before you could warn him, the pressure snapped and you came hard. The feeling of your pussy pulsing rhythmically around him all while sucking him in made him lose it. He kept moving shallowly before pulling out, giving his length a few pumps, thick ropes of cum shooting onto your bare back. Groaning as he kept jerking off until no cum came out of his slit. You were both left panting in your kitchen, and he was quick to wipe his spend off of your back when he finally caught his breath.

A sheepish grin on his face as he helped you pull up your underwear and lounge shorts, before fixing his own clothes. He pulled your spent and thoroughly satisfied body towards him, wrapping his arms around you once more. "Sorry ’bout that pretty, can’t keep my hands to myself around you." He murmured against your neck.

𓆩♡𓆪

𝒔𝒎𝒖𝒕𝒎𝒂𝒔 𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕: @h3arts4nat @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @courta13 @bumbl3b34 @slag2 @slut4chris888 @chrissluttyygf @billiesbabya @chrissbows @kaybug88 @sturniolo-fann @itsmaddielouis @urfavppls133 @certified-sturniolo @emkhlo @madisonsls @sammy1z @friendlyneighborhoodemo @layvvy @bellabooxx333 @wh0remikasas @ja75ahm @hearts4werka @miabumbia @slut4music @plrlvssnz @hannahhsturn1oloo @sturninsworld @idkwuttopit @madssturniolo @devilese @thatsitsthings @pr3ttyf4wn @stvrnioloslvt @d3adfa1ry @valsenoj @maddie-2024 @fallingforfalll2 @sagesturns @alicesturns @ccsturns @slxt4chriss @sturniolosfr3shl0v3 @slvtf0rchr1s @thebigbadwolfahoooo @poopysturniolo @pinktalearcade @clumsycunt @rhaine720 @halfbloodwriter

© sweetshuga

[growth-opportunities]

casting a spell on the girl you wish had a bigger chest against her will

AN: Definitely longer than I intended (1700+ words) but sometimes I start writing and I can't stop! I hope you enjoy it!

Dana had been my friend for a long, long time, since we were too young to be stopped by the idea that boys and girls weren't allowed to be friends with each other. It made our bond special and it meant that we could really talk about anything with each other. There were no secrets between us, even when we started growing up and going through changes.

Well, some changes.

While I did okay, puberty was less kind to Dana. Her face changed and she got a little taller, but even before she hit five feet, her body decided that it was just done growing. Done growing upward, done growing out. She transitioned from a training bra to a 28AA, though one could hardly call that a transition. Her hips stayed narrow. I told her that her slender waist have her body a really feminine shape, but I could tell she didn't really believe me. She said she was fine with it, though. We'd talk about girls in our classes who had shot through the alphabet and turned into bombshells overnight and Dana insisted that she didn't want any part of that. Tits made people dumb, she said. Tits made people boring. As soon as you could rely on your figure, your personality shriveled up and withered away. She said she was far happier with her smaller body than she could ever be as some huge-boobed bimbo. It was pretty obvious that she was just trying to bury her jealousy in pride, especially when she said that she'd never sully her body by get implants or trying to grow even a single cup size bigger.

The fallout of her first girlfriend leaving her for a bustier woman was intense. Dana was practically catatonic for a week, and I did all I could to look after her. She barely ate. She barely slept. It was the most depressed I had ever seen her. One night, when she was delirious from lack of sleep, she grabbed me by the collar and told me that big tits made someone a bad person. Busty women were all homewreckers who deserved to be shunned from society or be forced into brothels where they can perform their singular service to society and they can't hurt anyone else. She finally fell asleep with her arms crossed over her chest.

In hindsight, casting a spell on her against her will to make her tits grow probably wasn't the best way to go about helping her. It was a bit of a panicked idea; I just couldn't bear the thought any longer of not being able to help. Nothing I did could drag her out of her slump, so I resorted to an admittedly extreme measure. There was a decent chance, anyway, that the magic would be bogus or be indistinguishable from natural growth, which made it easier to justify. Neither of those were the case.

It was interesting, at least, to watch her reaction to growing. The first few cup sizes, grown quickly over a day or two, were met with a trepidatious pride. In her mind, she could still consider them "small", even if they were magnitudes bigger than the next-to-nothing she had before. There was an adjustment period, getting used to having weight and wobble on her chest. I occasionally walked into the room just in time to see her yank her hands away from her tits, blush on her cheeks, embarrassed for having acknowledged them at all. She'd stammer out something along the lines of "Well, this is fine. They're still small. I'm not a big titted, girlfriend stealing whore. As long as I stay this big, I'll be fine."

She didn't, of course. Dana's growth continued unbothered by her own feelings about her tits. Once she passed the DD mark, she couldn't really excuse them as being small. The timid fondness that marked her early growth quickly turned to dismay and frustration. A glass was knocked off the table and shattered on the ground, a casualty of Dana's slow acclimation to her own size. She was so angry at herself and her tits in response, that she punched her boob hard enough to leave a bruise. "Fuck these things! I never wanted them! And now they're huge and in the way! Gross bags of fat, never fucking stop moving! The moment you stop growing, I'm chopping you off, you hear me!"

She wouldn't get the chance. By the time the bruise healed, she was pushing the limits of common bra sizes. She never gained an inch in height, still standing with the top of her head below my chin, and her hips stayed narrow as ever, but that slim waist of hers was rapidly being concealed behind her growing tits. She was growing too fast to even buy a bra to contain them and so she milled about my apartment in shirts that were rapidly becoming too tight, struggling to contain that much tit. I could hear the seams straining whenever Dana arched her back and lifting her arms above her head inevitably caused a bit of underboob to slip out.

As much as I tried to keep myself under control, it was about that time that I started staring. I couldn't help myself. These were the biggest tits I had ever seen in real life and rapidly encroaching on being the biggest tits I had seen ever. The first time she caught me staring, it caught her off-guard and I could tell she dismissed it as nothing. The second time, she got angry, punching my arm a bit harder than just "playfully", reminding me that she's a person and more than a pair of tits. The third time, though, I could tell something was different. She blushed and turned away, but her body betrayed her, two little indents forming on the front of her stretched shirt, her nipples stiffening beneath.

It was a few days later, when we were both watching TV (or, rather, we were on our phones on the couch while the TV was on) when Dana turned to me. By now, her breasts nearly rested in her lap, only an inch or two between her thighs and the undersides of her tits. "Do you, um..." She bit her lip. "Do you like big tits?" My face flushed and I stammered something completely incoherent, but she waved her hand in the air, her tits wobbling. "No, no, it's okay. You're fine, dude. I was just... You've been so nice to me through all of this. The break up first and then these." She gave the side of her tit a little slap, the impact rippling across her bust. "And I realized this morning that, um..." She bit her lip, her toes (not reaching the ground past the edge of the couch) curled and uncurled. Her nipples stiffened beneath her shirt, larger and more obvious than ever. "I realized that I'm bigger. Not just bigger than I was before, I mean, anyone would be bigger than I was- hell, you're bigger than I was-" She waved her hand and cleared her throat. "What I mean to say is that I'm bigger than her. The one that stole Nadia away from me. By, like, a lot." The more she talked, the wider her smile grew. She sat up straight, pushing her breasts forward slightly. "I think... I think it would help me get my confidence back if I, y'know, did something with them."

She shifted in her seat, turning her whole body towards me, climbing up onto her knees. There was nowhere for me to go except back into the corner of the couch where Dana quickly trapped me. There was nowhere I could go that wouldn't have me brushing against her bust. "I've never felt... attractive. Before. I told myself it wasn't important. The closest I ever got was the first date Nadia and I went on, but clearly that didn't pan out. But now I have these huge fucking boobs. And you can't stop looking at them. And I've seen you, er, react to them. A little tent in your pants." Now both of us were blushing. The tension in the air grew thicker by the second. "It wouldn't surprise me if you, ahem, jerked off to them. I've already done it myself a few times. They're... they're really sensitive." Her hands felt so small as they reached out and grabbed my wrist. I could barely believe what was happening as she dragged my hand up to her bust, my palm hovering an inch over her left tit. Warmth radiated out of them and into me. Her breathing became deep and slightly ragged. "If you wanted to, we could... I mean, it would be alright if... We'd still be friends either way, but..." Her confidence was wavering so I bridged that final gap, pushing my hand forward and taking her tit in my grip.

Instinct took over. I squeezed. Hard. The initial shock was quickly broken through by a wall of arousal slamming into Dana. She arched her back, pushing her tit into my hand. I don't even think I could describe how it felt to have that massive breast bulge around my fingers, spilling out through every gap, her nipple twitching and quivering against my palm. Even now, the memory of pulling her shirt up and exposing her massive tit, how it felt to have her little hands on the back of my head guiding my lips to her nipple, moaning in time with the rhythmic sucking and squeezing of her head-dwarfing tit, leaves me feeling a bit dazed.

Dana would grow a little bit larger before finally stopping, the spell wearing off. Nadia was quickly forgotten (though I had to talk Dana down from sending her a Big mistake. Huge. style text with a picture of her cleavage) and Dana's attitude on tits quickly normalized. Dana and I didn't end up together, though we did briefly have a friends-with-benefits relationship. Then she met Lillian and the two have been together ever since. I did, eventually, tell Dana about the spell and there was an awkward couple of days, but apparently Lillian helped her through it and she was able to, eventually, thank me for it. She said that I probably should have asked, but admitted that she probably would have said no and then she would have missed out on something wonderful. Lillian occasionally sends me pictures of Dana's bust as continuous thanks for my part in making them. She says it's the least she can do.

[blackcatplushie]

Yandere in an Apocalypse

warnings: gun, blood, some violence

male yandere x reader

You run as fast as you can into the forest night. It's so dark outside you can barely see what's in front of you. Your feet hurt so much but you can't stop running, not while he's not far behind. It's colder outside than you remember. Or maybe it's because you're only wearing your pajamas. You didn't have the time to worry about dressing appropriately. 

Your lungs burn from running so hard. It's been a while since you've been so active. Hope springs into your chest as you see the fence come up on the horizon. You quickly throw your bag over and climb over not being aware of the jagged rocks behind the fence. You slip and slam your leg hard against a sharp rock. 

Blood oozes out and spills over your leg like a curtain. It's a large cut, from the middle of your calf down to your ankle. You whimper in pain and sit on the ground for a moment, cursing at the world for being so unforgiving.

Panic starts to rise as you look around for signs of any ghouls nearby. Zade went out often to "clean" the area and look for supplies but you weren't so sure about that anymore. The familiar groaning and stench of rot grows near as you struggle to get up.

You quickly try to wipe the blood away with your shirt but it's too late. They wander towards you with lifeless eyes and their jaws unhinging unnaturally, ready to devour. 

Your legs move before you can think. You try to run, ignoring the burning pain in your leg and the gush of blood that comes every step you take. You have to get to the edge of the forest no matter what. You remember seeing a motorbike rental shop there when you and Zade first came to this forest. It wasn't the greatest plan but maybe you could take a bike and get away from here. 

As you run, the smell of rot doesn't seem to go away leaving you confused. You realize too late that you're being surrounded by ghouls. They had been coming from ahead and behind you. They crowd around you hungrily. A crooked and manged hand shoots out towards you. Before it can touch you, a bullet whizzes past, shooting the ghoul in the head. 

You tremble and look behind you to see the man you've been running from. "Get down!" Zade yells. You get down and cover your ears. Bullets rain down on the ghouls taking them down quickly. You shake in fear hearing the gunshots. When did this become so commonplace? You wish you could go back to life before all this mess. When things were normal and you didn't have to spend everyday on edge. 

The bullets stop and you look up slowly, still trembling in fear. Not because of the ghouls but because now Zade is here and you know he isn't happy with you. His footsteps trudge towards you and you can't help but look down again. He sighs deeply before crouching in front of you and yanking your injured leg towards him. 

You yelp in pain and surprise which he scoffs at. "So fucking stupid. You did all this just to need me to save you. Do you know how pathetic that looks?"

You look away, not able to say anything. If he notices your fear, he doesn't mention it. Or maybe, he just doesn't care anymore. His rough fingers trace the edges of your wound. "Shit... I think you might need stitches," his eyes soften and the edge in his tone lightens after seeing the look on your face. "Don't worry, I'll fix you up as soon as we get home."

He pulls out a cloth and wraps it tightly around your leg. It hurts but you try not to let it show. He notices anyways. "It needs to be tight so you don't lose too much blood."

"I-I know..."

"You're so clumsy, how could I ever let you out?" he mutters to himself. "You could've died."

"What's that?"

"...Why can't you just let me go?" you mutter bitterly. 

"Why do I have to live like this? E-everyday I'm stuck waiting for you that facility for you to come back like some sort of dog... Or even worse I have to play nice and sweet so that you don't get upset and punish me!" you begin to sob, the resentment overwhelming you. "I'd rather die, but that's not allowed either! I hate you... I hate you so much!"

A unfamiliar expression appears on his face. At first it looks like anger and then guilt. He sighs, getting up slowly. "... Let's just go home. If you want to throw a tantrum right now, do it at home where the ghouls can't get you," he says. 

There's a rustling sound to the side of you and Zade. A ghouls stands up among the pile of bodies. Zade reaches for his gun, about to shoot but stops and looks back at you with a strange expression. "Huh, I guess I left one alive..."

He steps away from you leaving you confused and scared as the ghoul creeps near you following the scent of fresh blood. 

"Z-Zade? W-what are you doing? Hurry! It's coming closer!"

"Hm? Yeah... So what?" he says blankly. He tilts his head to the side smiling. 

"Please..! I-I'm sorry, just please kill it already!"

Your mind races, thinking about what he wants to hear. There's no time to think about being shameful right now. You want to get away from Zade of course but getting mauled by a ghoul is a painful way to go. Your pleading eyes dart frantically between the ghoul and Zade. In the end you spit out whatever you could think of, "Please help me, Zade! I'm sorry for running away, I-I just—Please I-I love you!"

"Hmm, okay, but only if you say what I want you to hear. I'm feeling a bit petty. You were just so mean to me." He puts his hand over his heart with and looks at you with a deep frown while wiping his nonexistent tears. You can't believe how annoying he's being right now. You're about to be mauled by a ghoul and he's sitting there joking around. 

In a swift motion, Zade pulls out a pistol and shoots the ghoul in the mouth right before it could chomp down on you. Its blood splatters on your face. You shake and sob, feeling tired and miserable from this whole mess. Zade comes down next to you and wipes the ghoul blood off your face with his sleeve. He's smiling down on you, a warm and satisfied look in his eyes. 

"Oh, you poor thing," he says softly, "Let's get you home, yeah? Get you a nice warm bath and some rest."

He picks you up and holds you tight for a moment. His brown hair tickles against the crook of your neck. You can feel him trembling a little before kissing your cheek and making his way back home. "I love you too... more than anything."

You lift your head slightly and see that the sun is starting to rise. Trails of ghoul bodies are littered across the trail. Ignoring the bodies, the forest looks beautiful in the morning. "Am I going to be punished?" you ask Zade tearfully. 

You sniffle, your cries easing into shudders as he carries you home. You can't help but feel comforted as he holds you. He's the only one you have left after all. The people you loved and the world you knew before has withered away into nothingness. You wrap your arms around him and cry into his shoulder. He pats your head softly. 

He laughs softly, his dimples showing. "Of course you are."

[thef1diary]

Royally Fucked | Six

— Loathed Boundaries

series masterlist

wc: 3.2k

© thef1diary 2024. all rights reserved. Do not copy, steal, translate, or repost any of my work

─────────── ♛ ───────────

Juliette managed to sleep through the night, though it was far from restful. Her mind had kept her tossing and turning, the weight of everything still lingering despite the security of their surroundings. She slept in until late morning, feeling somewhat refreshed despite the restless night.

As she stirred awake, the soft light filtering through the curtains caught her attention first, bathing the room in a gentle, warm glow. The second thing she noticed was Daniel, still asleep in the chair by the window. His head had fallen back, curls tousled in a way that made him look peaceful, yet entirely uncomfortable. It was a wonder he had managed to sleep at all.

A pang of guilt struck her as she realized how awkward his position was. The chair had clearly done him no favours, and she could only imagine how sore he would be once he woke. She winced at the thought, knowing that most of the night had already passed by the time they’d settled in, so he barely got any proper time to rest. At the time, it had seemed like the right choice to have him stay there—it had reassured her, knowing he was nearby—but now, seeing him slumped uncomfortably, she regretted it.

She slipped out of bed quietly, careful not to make any sudden movements that might wake him. As she approached, she hesitated, standing just inches away from him. The idea of waking him crossed her mind, suggesting he move to his own room where he could get proper rest. But despite not knowing Daniel all that well, she knew enough to be certain that if she woke him, he wouldn’t want to go back to sleep, especially knowing she was awake. After all, she had asked him to stay nearby last night, and he hadn’t taken the request lightly.

Instead, Juliette made a quiet decision. She stepped back to her bed, grabbing her pillow, and then returned to Daniel’s side. With careful hands, she gently lifted his head, slipping the pillow beneath it. As his head settled into the cushion, a soft groan escaped him, a sound of satisfaction followed by his body relaxing almost instinctively. The noise caught her off guard, and she found herself pausing, her thoughts wandering into places she knew they shouldn’t. Shaking them off, she refocused on the task at hand, refusing to linger on what that sound did to her.

She grabbed a blanket from her bed and draped it over him, making sure he was as comfortable as possible given the circumstances. He deserved better than spending the night in that chair, but this was the best she could offer for now.

Juliette lingered a moment longer, watching him. The tension in his features had eased, and he looked more at peace now. A small smile tugged at her lips as she turned away. Knowing sleep wouldn’t come to her again, she decided to head to the kitchen. She might as well prepare breakfast while she was up. It was a simple way to repay him, in some small measure, for his quiet vigilance throughout the night.

As she walked through the naturally lit hallway, the soft rays of the late morning sun cast a warm glow over everything, highlighting the quiet serenity of the house. Her footsteps whispered against the cool floor, the soft pad of her soles barely disturbing the tranquil air. The house was wrapped in a serene stillness of the morning, the silence like a gentle embrace, comforting yet tinged with anticipation. The echoes of last night’s tension had dissolved into the shadows, leaving behind a delicate calm that settled over her like a soft mist, soothing but not entirely lifting the weight that lingered in her chest. Each step was measured, careful, as if the stillness around her could shatter with a single breath, a single misstep. The air was crisp with the promise of the day, and as she made her way to the kitchen, the silence became a companion, the only witness to the storm that had passed and the unspoken thoughts that hovered just beneath the surface.

The kitchen was simple and unassuming, a far cry from the grandeur of the palace. But it was well-equipped, and for a moment, Juliette allowed herself to relax. She glanced around, taking in the familiar sight of the countertop, the stovetop, the refrigerator humming quietly in the corner. Everything was in its place, untouched since last night.

She busied herself by gathering ingredients, opting for something light and easy—scrambled eggs, toast, and fresh fruit. It wasn’t much, but it was comforting. As she cracked the eggs, she couldn’t help but think how different things had become in such a short time. The boundaries between her and Daniel, though not explicitly placed, were starting to blur, and it was slowly becoming harder to remember why they were set in the first place.

Her thoughts drifted back to last night, to the way Daniel had looked at her when she asked him to stay. There had been no hesitation, no question—just quiet understanding. He hadn’t pushed her, hadn’t tried to invade her space, even when she had been at her most vulnerable. That kind of restraint spoke volumes, reminding her that he wasn’t just anyone; he was her bodyguard. His loyalty was to her protection, not his own desires.

But there was more to it, wasn’t there? She could see it in the way his gaze softened when it met hers, in the way he seemed to know what she needed even before she asked. There was a connection between them, something unspoken but undeniable. As much as she tried to keep things professional, it was getting harder to ignore the way her pulse quickened whenever he was near.

Juliette shook her head, focusing on the task in front of her. She couldn’t afford to let her thoughts wander down that path. He was her bodyguard, not… more. Yet the reminder felt less convincing each time she repeated it.

As she finished preparing breakfast, she plated the food neatly, setting it on the table. The scent of coffee filled the air as she brewed a fresh pot, the rich aroma mingling with the warmth of the light streaming through the windows. She found herself glancing at the kitchen doorway, half-expecting Daniel to appear any minute, groggy and still half-asleep, but somehow sharp and alert all the same.

It was in that quiet moment, as she stood alone in the kitchen, that she realized just how much she had come to rely on him—not just for protection, but for comfort. His presence was steadying, a constant amidst the chaos that seemed to follow her life. But there was also something dangerous in that realization, something that made her heart race for reasons she couldn’t—or wouldn’t—name.

Once the coffee finished brewing, Juliette poured two cups and set them on the table, taking a seat with her own. As she sipped her coffee, she reflected on how different her days had become. The simplicity of this routine, very different from the grandeur of the palace, offered a brief escape from her usual responsibilities.

Even with Daniel’s presence, these moments felt almost normal, a glimpse into a kind of life she had only briefly experienced once before. The safety of the house, though born out of a threat, had inadvertently provided her with an opportunity to understand Daniel not just as her bodyguard but as a person. She appreciated the respite from the constant pressure of her royal duties, though she had no desire to abandon her role. It was a rare chance to enjoy the uncomplicated, if only for a short while, and to get to know someone who had slowly become a constant in her life.

Her thoughts were gently interrupted by the sight of Daniel entering the kitchen. His sleepy smile and tousled curls gave him a relaxed, approachable demeanour.

“Mornin’, Your Highness,” he greeted with a yawn, rubbing the last vestiges of sleep from his eyes. “Have you been up long?”

Juliette watched him with a soft smile on her face. “Good morning, Daniel.” She gestured to the empty chair across from her, inviting him to join her at the table. “I haven’t been up too long, I didn’t want to disturb you.”

As Daniel nodded and sat down, he winced slightly, his hand moving to his neck. Juliette’s smile faltered as she noticed the discomfort. “I’m so sorry for causing that, I hope you’re not too sore.”

Daniel shook his head with a light chuckle, trying to downplay his discomfort. “Don’t worry about it. I woke up with an extra pillow and blanket that I’m pretty sure didn’t just appear on its own,” he said with a grin. “So, I’m guessing someone was looking out for me.”

Juliette’s concern eased slightly as she met his playful gaze. “Well, I figured you deserved a little more comfort. I hope you managed to get some rest, even if it wasn’t the best.”

Daniel nodded appreciatively, his grin widening. “I did. Thanks for the breakfast. It looks fantastic.”

As he settled to eat breakfast, Juliette sipped her coffee before glancing over at Daniel. “So, what are the plans for today?”

Daniel paused mid-bite, a thoughtful look crossing his face. “Well, we could just lounge around and chill for the day if you’d like. We’re in a safe house, after all, so it’s not like we have to stick to a strict schedule. Unless you want to do something different?”

Juliette considered his offer with a smile. “Honestly, that sounds perfect. I haven’t had a day of doing practically nothing in a while. It would be nice to just relax.”

Daniel’s eyes twinkled with mischief as he nodded. “You know, Your Highness, as long as we’re here, you don’t have to be a princess. You can just be you.”

Juliette chuckled at his comment. “You can’t say that and still call me ‘Your Highness’, Daniel.”

He grinned, raising an eyebrow. “Touché. So, what should I call you instead?”

Juliette tilted her head, considering. “How about just Juliette? It feels a bit more... normal.”

Daniel’s grin widened. “Alright, Juliette it is.”

The moment he spoke her name, Juliette felt a shiver run down her spine. It was as though the simple syllables had been infused with something more—an intimacy that had been previously withheld. The way Daniel said it, with a gentle warmth and a hint of affection, made her name sound softer, more personal. It was a stark contrast to the formal title she was so used to, and in that fleeting instant, it felt like a new kind of connection was being forged.

Juliette smiled. “Sounds perfect. Thank you.”

“Just don’t tell the King,” Daniel added with a playful glint in his eye.

Juliette laughed softly, then gestured to her lips as if to zip them closed, a playful gesture that sealed their little secret. “Your secret’s safe with me,” she said with a wink. For a moment, it felt as though the walls of royalty had faded away, leaving behind just two people enjoying a simple, genuine connection.

─────────── ♛ ───────────

The rest of their day unfolded with a languid grace, exactly as planned—unhurried and indulgent in its simplicity. Juliette and Daniel nestled into the embrace of the couch, a haven of tranquility. The golden afternoon light poured through the windows, casting a soft, ethereal glow over the room.

At first, they sat at opposite ends of the couch. Juliette was absorbed in her book, her gaze focused, while Daniel flipped through a magazine that seemed to lose its appeal with every page. As the hours drifted by, the space between them shrank imperceptibly, drawn together by the natural pull of comfort and closeness.

Juliette shifted slightly, her shoulder brushing against Daniel's arm, an accidental yet intimate touch. The warmth of his presence, previously a distant hum, became a steady, comforting rhythm against her side. She leaned in, her breath mingling with the faint scent of his cologne, a delicate reminder of the closeness they had found.

“Are you bored with that magazine, or am I just too fascinating?” Juliette teased once she spotted his gaze, her voice light and playful, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

Daniel’s grin was mischievous, a playful glint in his eye. “Maybe a bit of both,” he replied, his voice low and laced with hidden meaning.

Without warning, Daniel’s hand darted out and snatched the book from Juliette’s grasp. Her immediate reaction was a burst of surprised laughter as she lunged forward, her eyes wide with playful defiance.

“Hey! Give that back!” she protested, her voice a blend of amusement and mock outrage.

Daniel held the book high, a mischievous grin stretching across his lips. “Get it yourself,” he taunted, reclining into the couch with a challenging gleam in his eye.

Juliette’s eyes narrowed with determination, her resolve ignited. She scrambled onto her knees on the couch, inching closer to Daniel as she reached up, her fingers brushing the edges of the book. His teasingly outstretched arm drew her nearer, until, with a final determined move, she found herself perched directly on his lap, their positions growing increasingly intimate.

The proximity between them was electric, the air charged with a palpable tension. Juliette’s heart pounded as she felt the solid warmth of Daniel’s thighs against her. Time seemed to slow, the world outside dissolving into a blur as their faces drew closer, the space between them charged with an undeniable energy.

For a moment, Daniel appeared momentarily caught off guard by her proximity, his earlier resistance melting away. He allowed her to reclaim the book with ease, his hands now moving to rest gently on her hips—a touch that was both grounding and suggestive.

His voice, now a sultry murmur, dripped with flirtation. “Eager to get this back, are we? Almost as if you’re reading something you don’t want to share.”

The implication was clear, and Juliette’s cheeks flamed with a sudden blush. The playful insinuation sent a shiver down her spine, transforming the ordinary book into a symbol of something forbidden and enticing.

Her reaction intensified the moment, the charged silence between them growing thicker. Daniel’s gaze softened, the teasing glint in his eyes fading as he studied her with newfound intensity. “Well, look at that, caught red-handed,” he murmured, his eyes widening slightly with realization.

“There’s nothing wrong with reading a little romance,” Juliette replied, her voice a soft whisper, which only provoked a low, amused chuckle from Daniel.

“There isn’t,” he agreed, his hands tightening around her hips, his touch firm and reassuring. “But now I’m intrigued by what sort of romance you’re actually reading.”

In their shared space, the world outside ceased to exist. Juliette’s gaze wandered, taking in the honey-brown depths of Daniel’s eyes, their warmth and intensity magnified up close. His features, usually so well-defined from a distance, now seemed strikingly vivid—each detail etched with a kind of poetic allure. Her eyes fell to his lips, slightly parted in a smile that promised both mischief and something more intimate.

Daniel’s gaze, too, lingered on Juliette’s lips, a silent acknowledgment of the atmosphere enveloping them. The moment was intense, the air thick with unspoken promises and tension. But just as the connection seemed to reach its peak, Daniel’s hand moved toward the book once more.

Juliette, anticipating his move, fell back onto the couch with a graceful motion, the book still clasped in her hands, held against her chest. Daniel followed her descent, his movement fluid and determined. As Juliette settled on her back, Daniel hovered over her, his body aligning with hers in a manner that made their proximity undeniable. Her legs, having been draped over his lap moments before, had naturally spread open, inviting him into the space between them.

The warmth of his body pressed against her, the weight of him a comforting, yet tantalizing presence. His breath brushed against her face, mingling with hers in a shared rhythm that deepened the intimate atmosphere.

Daniel’s gaze drifted to the book Juliette held against her chest, a tangible symbol of the barrier between their professional roles and the burgeoning intimacy between them. The book, once a source of playful distraction, now seemed trivial in the face of their overwhelming closeness.

His fingers, with a deliberate slowness, grazed the edges of the book, his voice a soft murmur filled with teasing intrigue. “Still not going to let me have it, are you?”

Juliette’s breath caught, her mind still swirling with the situation they were in. The awareness of their intimate positioning sent a shiver through her. She shook her head, but the words she meant to say were lost, swallowed by the overwhelming closeness and the electric tension that thrummed between them.

As his fingers lingered on the book, Daniel’s hand began a slow descent, moving from the edges of the book to the curve of her waist. His touch was deliberate and possessive, sending waves of heat through Juliette’s body. The gentle pressure of his hand continued down, tracing the curve of her hips before sliding underneath her thigh. With a smooth, practiced motion, he guided her leg to wrap around his waist, pulling her even closer.

Juliette gasped, a soft, breathless sound escaping her lips as she instinctively clung to him. His name escaped her lips in a whispered murmur. The sound of it seemed to hang in the air, a poignant acknowledgment of the intimate space they now occupied.

Juliette’s fingers released its hold on the book, allowing it to rise and fall with the rhythm of her breath. Her palm moved to gently rest on Daniel’s shoulder, while her other hand, almost of its own volition, threaded into his hair, her fingers tangling in the soft curls as they both grappled with the magnitude of their unspoken dilemma.

The tender moment was abruptly interrupted as the book slipped off her chest, falling with a thud onto the floor. The sound seemed to reverberate with the reality they had been trying to escape—where Juliette was a princess bound by duty, and Daniel was her bodyguard, confined by the professional boundaries that defined their relationship.

In that moment, the space between them, which had been a mere whisper of distance, became a chasm once again. The weight of their roles, the expectations, and the boundaries they had come to resent crashed down on them, reinforcing the lines they both wished to blur. The book, now forgotten on the floor, symbolized their return to the world where their desires and reality were at odds.

The intensity of their closeness, their breath mingling, and the intoxicating touch of Daniel’s body all fell apart as he slowly began moving away, replaced by the harsh reminder of the roles they had to play. It was a reality neither was fully prepared to accept, even though their hearts yearned for something different. The professional boundaries they had both grown to loathe reasserted themselves, casting a shadow over the fleeting connection they had shared.

No words were spoken as the space between them grew, their shared breath now a distant memory. Juliette’s hands slowly retreated, her fingers trailing away from the warmth of Daniel’s shoulder and the soft curls of his hair. Daniel’s grip on her leg loosened, his touch leaving a lingering impression of warmth even as it withdrew.

Their eyes met, Daniel’s gaze burning with a silent, intense inquiry, as if seeking any sign that Juliette might still be tempted to cross the fragile boundary they had so nearly breached. But her eyes offered no clues, only a startled recognition of how close they had come to surrendering to the very desire they both tried to suppress, and wonder of how much further they would’ve gone, had there been nothing to stop it.

Reluctantly, Daniel rose from the couch, his movements slow and measured. He cast one last, wistful look at Juliette before turning away, his footsteps echoing softly as he retreated to his room. In that silent departure, he adhered to the unspoken rules of their duties, faithfully returning to his role as her bodyguard, even as the space between them seemed to whisper of what might have been.

─────────── ♛ ───────────

[shywithapurpose]

Knight!Nanami x Royal!Reader

The sun had just dipped below the horizon, leaving a soft twilight that bathed the courtyard in hues of purple and amber. The sounds of the court were far off now, muffled by the thick stone walls of the castle. You sat by the window, looking out at the distant hills. The weight of the crown you would one day inherit was a burden you often thought about, and on evenings like this, when the air was still and the world felt almost too peaceful, it pressed down on you. You hadn’t always felt this way. When you were younger, you’d found the idea of being a ruler exhilarating—everything within your reach, everyone around you bowing their heads. But now? Now, all of that seemed like a game, a stage you were expected to play upon, your true self hidden behind the mask of royal duty.

A knock on the door breaks you from your thoughts, and you turn just in time to see it swing open, revealing a familiar figure. Nanami. Your personal guard. He stands in the doorway, his silhouette tall and imposing, framed by the dimming light from the hallway. His armor gleams faintly, though not as polished as the knights. His face, though always hard and unreadable to others, softens slightly when he sees you. Nanami’s hazel eyes flicker with something unreadable before he dips his head in a respectful bow.

“Your Highness,” he says, voice low. “It’s late. I thought you may wish to retire.”

You hesitate, looking back out the window. There was something in his presence, something different tonight. You were used to his quiet watchfulness, but tonight, his posture seems to have a tension to it, a stillness that’s almost… uncertain.

"I am not tired," you answer softly, though you know it’s a lie. Tiredness has become something of a companion, creeping up on you in moments when your guard is down. "But I could use a bit of company."

Nanami steps into the room fully now, his footsteps barely a sound on the stone floor. He moves closer, but he doesn't sit or approach you directly. Instead, he takes up his usual position near the door, always within arm’s reach but never crossing that invisible line. His presence, though unobtrusive, fills the room.

"Is there something troubling you, Your Highness?" His voice is neutral, professional, but there’s a gentleness to it. He’s been your protector for as long as you can remember, always vigilant, always silent. And yet, tonight, you sense a shift.

You look up at him, your gaze lingering. Nanami is taller than most men, with broad shoulders and the sort of quiet strength that makes him formidable in combat. He has a way of looking at you, not with reverence, not with pity, but with something more like understanding. It's a look he gives to no one else.

"I don't know," you admit, biting the inside of your cheek. "Sometimes I feel so trapped here." You gesture vaguely to the castle. "Like I'm meant to be something I don't know how to become."

He says nothing at first, and you don’t expect him to. His silence is often more telling than any words could be. Still, you can feel his gaze on you, though you don’t meet it. A moment passes, and then he speaks, his tone as steady as ever. “I’ve seen you grow, Your Highness. More than that, I’ve seen the weight of your crown. You do not carry it alone. You have advisors, your family, your people." His words hang in the air, each one wrapped in the unspoken promise that he is one of those who stands by you. His hand rests on the hilt of his sword, fingers tracing the edge of it idly, but there’s an odd tension in the movement, as if he’s considering something.

"I don’t need them," you reply, the words slipping out before you can stop them. "I need…" You trail off, suddenly unsure. There’s a word sitting on the tip of your tongue, but you can't bring yourself to say it. You glance up at Nanami again, your pulse quickening for reasons you can't quite explain. He’s looking at you, not in his usual guarded manner, but with something softer. Something fleeting and almost imperceptible, yet undeniable. He clears his throat, breaking the silence. "You need to rest, Your Highness." It’s an excuse, you know it is. A shield, like the armor he wears. But it doesn’t feel like enough. Not tonight. Not when you’re so close to him, close enough to feel the warmth radiating off his body, close enough to catch the faint scent of leather and steel that clings to him after a day of training.

“You’ve been at my side for so long, Kento,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper now. "Do you ever wish for something more?"

There it is—the question you’ve kept buried. The one you’ve never dared ask anyone, not even yourself. You’re not sure what answer you’re hoping for, but you want to hear it, even if it means exposing a part of yourself you’ve never shown. Nanami goes still, and for the first time, he doesn’t answer right away. His brow furrows, and his lips press together, as if he’s weighing every word carefully.

"More, Your Highness?" His voice is rougher now, like he’s searching for the right way to phrase it. “I have always been where I am meant to be. At your side. Protecting you.” You swallow hard, feeling the intensity of the moment settle between you like a storm that’s just begun to stir. “And what if that’s not enough for you? What if you—” You cut yourself off, suddenly aware of how foolish you might sound. But Nanami doesn't move, doesn't step back. Instead, his eyes soften just the slightest bit, and for a moment, he seems to hesitate. The tension in the air thickens, crackling, and the world outside the window seems to disappear.

And in that fleeting instant, you realize the truth.

This guard, this man who has stood at your side, so constant, so steadfast, is everything you never knew you needed. And yet, the chasm between you seems too wide, too impossible to cross. Yet, Nanami steps closer, his hand finally leaving the sword hilt, his fingers brushing against yours. Just a touch, barely a whisper of contact, but it’s enough to set your pulse racing.

"Your Highness," he says again, and his voice is softer now, quieter. There’s something in it, something that makes your chest tighten, a wordless promise, or maybe just a question. “I…” You don’t know what to say. The words feel like they’re caught in your throat, unwilling to leave, and yet you can’t stop yourself from asking the question anyway, the one that’s been eating at you ever since he first stepped into the room. “Could you… could you ever want more than this? More than just… this duty?”

His gaze flickers briefly, like the faintest shadow crossing his face before he returns to you with that same unreadable expression. But there’s something in his eyes now. Something deeper. Something raw. “I’ve never wanted anything more than my duty to you, Your Highness,” he answers, his voice steady, though there’s a weight in it now that wasn’t there earlier. “But that does not mean I do not understand the need for something else. For… more.”

Your pulse skips. For a fleeting moment, it feels like the ground beneath you is shifting. His words echo in your mind, and you wonder if he knows—if he feels the same pull you do. You reach out, a motion so instinctive that it surprises you. Your fingers brush his, the skin of your hand warm against the coolness of his skin, and your breath catches in your throat. The quiet intimacy of it stuns you both, and for a second, neither of you speaks. But Nanami’s hand, still hovering near yours, moves slightly. He doesn’t pull away. Instead, he shifts just enough that your fingers interlace. His touch is careful, almost reverent.

"Are you sure?" he asks, his voice barely more than a murmur. “This is not a path we can take lightly, Your Highness. There are things… things that would change. Things you might not be ready for.”

The words strike you like a blow, but they’re not an argument, they’re a warning. A plea for you to understand the gravity of what you’re considering. You know better than anyone the cost of such a decision, the consequences that would follow if word of this ever reached the wrong ears. But at this moment, standing on the edge of something so fragile and uncertain, you don’t care. You can’t care. The weight of the crown, the expectations that have always been placed upon you—they all seem so far away now, like distant echoes in the wind. In the face of this… of him, you wonder if it’s even worth it. For the first time in what feels like years, the world seems to pause. The burden of your royal blood, your obligations to family, kingdom, and title—fade into the background, replaced by something simpler, more immediate.

“I’m not sure of anything anymore,” you laugh. “But I know… I know I can’t keep living this way. Not when I feel like I’m suffocating under everything that’s expected of me. Not when you’re standing right here, and I…” You swallow hard, the weight of your own words settling in. It’s hard to admit, harder still to speak the truth out loud, but you can’t ignore it any longer. You can’t pretend that this, whatever this is between you, doesn’t matter. His fingers tighten around yours, a silent affirmation that he’s listening, that he’s here. His eyes meet yours, and for a brief, dizzying moment, you swear you can see something deeper there—a flicker of longing, of understanding.

“I’m not asking for you to throw away your duty, Nanami,” you say, the words coming out softer now, more vulnerable. “But I don’t want to be trapped in this castle, in this life, forever. I can’t do it alone. And I don’t want to. Not if you’re willing to stand with me.” A beat of silence passes, stretching between you like a delicate thread. And then, Nanami speaks, his voice low and almost intimate. “I’ve always stood with you, Your Highness. I always will.”

You could almost mistake his words for a simple pledge. But there’s something in his tone, something in the way he says always, that makes your heart race, makes the air in the room feel thick and heavy with possibility. Slowly, hesitantly, Nanami takes another step forward. He’s closer now, close enough that you can feel the heat of his body, the faint rise and fall of his chest as he breathes. His presence is overwhelming, not in a way that makes you uncomfortable, but in a way that feels like a magnet, pulling you toward him. And when he leans in, just slightly, so that his lips are a hair’s breadth away from your ear, you hear him say, barely above a whisper:

“I will not leave your side, Your Highness. Not now, not ever. But if you wish for more… then you must be prepared to face what it costs.”

You close your eyes, your heart hammering in your chest. You know, deep down, that this moment—this fragile, uncertain moment—is the beginning of something you cannot undo. There’s no going back from here. But as you look into his eyes, the weight of everything you’ve ever known, the chains of duty and expectation, suddenly seem… lighter.

You take a steadying breath, your fingers tightening around his hand.

“Ok.”

I found the draft for this on a crumpled piece of paper in my chemistry binder, so I hope you enjoyed!

[atleastpleasetelephone]

I know you’re in the middle of Kinktober (and crushing it btw!!!) so I’m sure you won’t be taking requests for a while, but leaving this in your inbox because I cant stop thinking about it. Humbly requesting wholesome cockwarming with BDE 🙏🏼

A/N: Thank you very much! I decided to make this a sequel to Bunny.

Not that innocent

Pairing: BDE x reader

Word count: 2.3K

TWs: Erectile dysfunction, cockwarming, p in v sex, a lot of cum, a short appearance from angry!Elvis, reader cries (not sex-related).

Elvis likes you, so he wants to keep you around. He was a little anxious that maybe you didn’t like him back when you said no to his invitation to spend the night. But then you turn up to his show the next night wearing the dress he’d had sent to you, so some of the anxiety dissipates. He feels like he does the entire show for you, the moves, the songs, even when he’s kissing all those other women he still has you in mind. You intrigue him - he thought you were shy, and then you asked him all those questions. All those oddly pertinent questions. As though you could see inside his mind and knew that he was sad and lonely a lot of the time. He wants you by his side again so he can talk to you some more. And of course it wouldn’t hurt to teach you a few more things in the bedroom. 

This time you decide to go to Elvis’ suite alone. Your friends aren’t that interested in going again anyway - they’re only in Tahoe for one more night and then they’re going back home. You’re supposed to go with them, only you’re not sure if you will. There’s not a lot pulling you back to Virginia. Your job, of course, but no significant other or pets or anything like that. And you could get another job. It might not be that professional to just stay in Tahoe until the end of Elvis’ residency, but part of you is wondering if you should try living a little. 

As soon as he sees you Elvis’ hands are on you, guiding you around the room as he murmurs questions in your ear about the show and what you’re drinking tonight. You answer him brightly, because you loved the show and you’re dying for another margherita. He settles you down next to him on the sofa and immediately starts talking to the rest of the people around him in an extremely animated fashion. You sip quietly on your drink and watch him. He really is very handsome, and you love the way he talks. Not just his accent, but the way he says things, something about it really appeals to you. 

After an hour or so, you start to get antsy. You’ve been sitting in the same position, with Elvis’s arm around your shoulders, being jostled by him as he moves back and forth. And you’re uncomfortable. And if you’re really, truly, being honest, a little bored. You tap his leg cautiously and look up into his face. He’s still talking though, barely registering anything else in the room other than the conversation that he’s so completely immersed in. You tap again, but there’s still no response. Then you think of something that will get his attention, your little hand wandering over to his groin and squeezing his balls. 

“Bunny!” Elvis’ face is red and his eyes are wide. 

“Sorry,” you whisper, your eyes meeting his a little reluctantly. “I tried to nudge you but you weren’t paying attention.”

Elvis is briefly furious at the fact that you’ve touched him, there, in public, and part of him wants to throw you out of the suite and never see you again. There’s a weird stillness in the room as everyone around him waits to see how he’s going to react. It’s not as if any of them actually saw what happened, but they all know that tone, and that there’s a high likelihood of the entire suite being cleared out in the next couple of minutes. 

“You can’t do that!” He rages, far too loud and too close to your face. 

You’d heard that he has mood swings nowadays, you’d read about them in the newspapers. He’d been nothing but sweet to you last night, though, so you hadn’t really believed it. But here you were now, right in the middle of one. You burst into tears. 

“I d-didn’t mean to… I… I… it’s uncomfortable and loud and I don’t know anyone but you and I don’t even know you…” the words are rushing out of you at a rate of knots and you struggle to make them stop. “I just wanted y-your attention, it’s too much b-being here on my o-own…” you sniff loudly and then succumb to sobbing again. 

“Oh, bunny…” Elvis softens immediately, seeing how upset you are and knowing he’s the cause of it. 

“Right, Charlie, everyone out!” He shouts into the room, and then without warning scoops you up and carries you into the bedroom, closing the door behind him. 

“Bunny I’m so sorry,” he coos, placing you down on the bed and sitting himself next to you. 

You sniff and try to get your breathing under control as he passes you a box of tissues. “It’s… it’s okay.”

He watches as you wipe your face and take a few more gulping breaths of air, gradually calming down again. 

“Ya don’t like all those other people?” He asks, gently. 

You shake your head. “N-no. It’s just a bit much.”

“Sorry, honey. C’mere.” He pulls you into his arms, your head on his chest as he strokes your hair lovingly. You both stay like that for a while, and then he wonders what you were trying to get his attention about in the first place. Now he’s had some time to think about it, it’s kind of a funny way to get his attention, and if nudging didn’t work he can’t really blame you for doing it. 

“What did ya want anyway, Bunny?”

You move your head to look at him. “Jus’ your attention. Wanted to move off that sofa and do something else.”

He grins. “Well ya got what ya wanted.”

You wriggle up his body, your hand burrowing into his hair. “I kinda wanted something else, too.” You press your lips against his and he responds eagerly, kissing you gently at first and then with increasing passion. 

You start to pull at his clothes and it’s not long before he finds himself naked with you, a position he doesn’t usually like to be in with the lights on, but somehow your little body is making him care less about it than usual. He caresses you with his big, guitar-roughened  hands and you moan, kissing him and rubbing your body against his. He’s shocked when you pull away from his embrace and straddle his thighs, your hand tugging on him just like he taught you yesterday. He’s even more shocked when he feels you rub the head on your pussy, your arousal covering him as you sink down onto his length. 

“Fuck,” he groans, looking down at you through hooded eyes. “Thought ya were an innocent lil bunny.”

You giggle, settling yourself down, his dick completely inside you. “I’ve had sex before, Elvis.”

He shakes his head and clicks his tongue. “‘parently so. Ya not gonna move then, bunny?”

You giggle again, shaking your head and running your hands over your breasts, arching your back as you do it. He groans. “Thought I might tease you a little?”

“T-tease me?” He stumbles over the word a little. He really read you wrong when he met you, you might’ve been terrible at handjobs but you definitely know what you’re doing with your body right now. 

“Mmm. Jus’ sit on it.” You bite your lip and tip your head to one side. One of your girlfriends had told you about teasing and you thought it seemed fun, but you hadn’t really had much of an opportunity to try. The couple of guys you’d been with were so demanding about their own pleasure you’d been more of a fun plaything than a woman with agency. 

“S-sit on it?” Elvis feels like he has to stop repeating everything you say back to you as a question, but it’s like his brain has gone completely blank. Apart from the part that reminds him that he’s 40 and he takes too many meds for his dick to co-operate like this for too long. And he doesn’t want to say that out loud. 

You grin. It seems like it’s working. You rock your hips just a little and he moans in response. Biting your lip, you decide to try pushing it a little further. 

“Maybe you’ll think twice about being so mean to me, next time?”

Elvis’ expression changes a little, and you wonder if you’ve pushed it too far. His hand reaches to slap you on the side of the thigh. 

“C’mon. I apologised fer that. Ya need ta move.”

His tone is bordering on annoyed, and you consider it for a minute and then shake your head, going for your best attempt at a girlie cute little grin. 

“No! Not yet.”

Elvis groans, feeling himself starting to get soft. 

“Please!”

“No!” 

You think you’re still teasing, until you feel something change inside you and watch something changing on his face, too. 

“Ya may as well jus’ get off,” he huffs. 

You tilt your head to one side and look at him. “Don’t want to.”

Still huffing, he gets up onto his elbows and looks at you sternly. “There’s no point now.”

His tone is bitter but he keeps staring at you, waiting to see what you’re going to do. Expecting you to move. But you don’t want to. You don’t feel as full as you did earlier, but he’s still nestled inside you and you like that feeling. 

“I like it,” you tell him, then you hold out your arms. “Want you closer.”

He’s confused but the way you’re being with him softens his frustrations and he finds himself sitting up as you ask, with you adjusting to make sure he doesn’t fall out. After some wriggling he finally finds himself with his arms around you and his head on your shoulder, breathing in your scent. 

“Too old ta be teased,” he whispers. 

“Maybe I’m jus’ not good at teasing,” you suggest. 

“Hmmm.”

“Like the feeling of you inside like this.”

He grumbles into the crook of your neck, then sighs, relenting. “Like it too.”

You sit there for a while, in one another’s arms, enjoying the feeling of closeness. Then you wiggle your hips a little. 

“You think I can get it back?”

“Hmmm?”

“Your hard-on. Think I can get it back? I’m not that good at teasing but I am good at… other stuff.”

Elvis shakes his head a little to clear it of your dirty words. “I dunno, honey. Little Elvis isn’t that co-operative nowadays.”

You giggle, moving so you can look at him properly. “Little Elvis? You named it?”

He looks down, shyly. “Y-yeah. I named it.”

“Ohhh. Maybe I should talk to him.”

“What’re ya gonna say?”

You think for a while, tilting your head to the side and nibbling on your lower lip, going through several options. Then you decide you’ve come up with it, and smile brightly at him. 

“I think I’m gonna say, Little Elvis… you’re not actually that little, are you?”

Elvis bursts out laughing, his fingertips digging into your fleshy hips as he throws his head back. Your hands hold onto the back of his neck as you grin at his reaction. 

“I’m also gonna say, I like playing with you, and I’d really like it if you got all red and hard for me again. But if you’re too tired, I understand.”

Elvis is still laughing, all the tension from earlier has completely gone and he just loves how silly you’re being. It’s making him feel like the whole thing is less serious than he’d first imagined. Then he starts to feel something as you rock your hips back and forth on him, your ass firmly pressed against his thighs so he doesn’t slip out. A little hardening, a little rush of blood back down there again. Your lips find his ear and you murmur into it. 

“Want to show you how good I am at this. I know you’ve had a lot of girls and I’m sure I’m not the best, but I want to try.”

He groans at your words and your movements, and he starts to think that you’re right, you are good at this and you can bring his erection back. He’s never known a girl be able to do it before, he usually gets so psyched out and upset when it happens he doesn’t even let them try. 

“Bunny,” he breathes, feeling your pussy hugging him again as you start to roll your hips forwards, pushing your breasts against his chest. 

“Elvis,” you moan back, raising yourself up on your knees just a little before sitting back down. 

“Fuck,” he mutters, his hands on your ass as you start to make your movements bigger and bigger, until finally you’re bouncing on him like…well… a bunny rabbit. 

You move one of your hands to rub your clit as the familiar feeling inside you builds, his dick pleasuring you just the way you like. You’ve only been in this position once or twice, but those are the times you’ve been able to cum from sex and so you’re excited to do this with Elvis. You watch his face contort in pleasure and it brings you even closer, thinking that you’re the cause, you’re what’s making him feel so good. Your fingers rub faster and you keep bouncing, his hands helping you move now too, fucking you on his dick. 

Leaning back, you finally sigh out your orgasm, so quietly Elvis would’ve missed it if he was just relying on his ears. But he feels you, and then he knows he has to move you before he cums. His strong hands pull you off him completely and set you down somewhere around his knees, before he grabs his dick and quickly jerks himself, cumming in seconds, his release spurting all over your belly and tits. Lying down with a groan, he wraps his arm around you as you lie down next to him. 

“I need a shower,” you whisper in his ear. 

He’s still breathing hard, trying to recover from his orgasm, and he pries his eyes open to look at you. You’re literally covered in his cum. 

“Shit.”

You giggle. “Told you I was good at it.”

He shakes his head with a wry smile. “Knew Bunny was a good name fer ya. Jus’ didn’t realise how good. Until now…”

***

@vintagepresley @arg-xoxo @from-memphis-with-love @msamarican @blursedblegh @returntopresley @eapep @everythingelvispresley @i-r-i-n-a-a @sissylittlefeather @arrolyn1114 @jhoneybees @cattcb @polksaladava @lookingforrainbows @jkdaddy01 @ccab @epthedream69 @lustnhim @elvisslut @pomtherine @that-hotdog @ladelinee @angschrof @fairybloodsucker @deltafalax @makethemorning @elviswhore69 @ilovequeen978 @wildhorseinkansas @pocketfulofpresley

[crownofgildedlilies]

lazy days

pairing: aged up!kirishima x reader summary: The day off usually means running errands, but not when it's too cold outside. wc: 1.5k event masterlist

“Good morning,”

Like a scene out of a movie, light streamed towards you in gentle, yellow rays through the few cracks in the blinds. The warmth on your face was nearly comparable to the heat wrapped around your body and pressed against your back, yet your beating heart told you just exactly which one you preferred. 

A slow, sleepy smile spread across your face as you remembered how lucky you had gotten. 

You didn’t have work, and neither did Eijirou. 

“Morning,” You reply through a yawn, stretching your body as much as you could while still trapped in the cage of the pro hero’s well-built arms. Somehow, he held you closer, tighter, his chin tucking up and over your shoulder to press a cluster of saccharine kisses to your jaw. 

A sound akin to a squeal bubbled up past your lips as his unstyled and unkempt hair tickled your neck and his elbow dug awkwardly into your side, forcing your shoulder to scrunch up and catch your boyfriend in the jaw with a faint, dull, thud.

“Hey!” He protested, dropping onto his back and suddenly letting you go, arms splaying wide dramatically. Now free to move, you twisted around so that you were finally facing him, propped on an elbow. You couldn’t help the grin that found its way onto your lips as you watched him pout in an over the top way, one hand rubbing the spot on his jaw where your shoulder had barely touched him. “I was just trying to give you your morning kiss, you know. It’s not manly to attack me like that.” 

“Oh, please.” You huffed out a laugh, “Isn’t your whole thing that you’re unbreakable?” 

“Yeah, but I’m off duty now!” 

“What would Bakugou say, if he heard that you let your guard down like that?” You teased, following your words with a kiss to his so called injury. Like a salve on a wound, your affection seemed to heal him. 

But just to be safe, you kissed him a few more times. 

It took another ten minutes, but you finally pulled yourself from bed, Eijirou never far from your side, even as you dressed in comfortable clothes and brushed your teeth. Only when you both made your way to the kitchen and he busied himself cooking breakfast for you both were you able to separate yourself from him. 

Shuffling over to the living room window, you studied the world outside. Quiet, still—cold. Face scrunching in silent displeasure, you watched the snow falling steadily over the ground. It wasn’t anything close to what could be considered a snowstorm, but a few inches had gathered that would make any attempts to leave the haven of your home a hassle. 

“We don’t have to go out today,” Eijirou, as if reading your mind, offered from the kitchen. Keeping one eye on the eggs still steadily cooking on the stovetop, he extended an arm to offer you a mug—your mug, already filled with coffee you hadn’t realized he had brewed for you. “We have enough groceries to wait another day, and it won’t kill me to skip a day in the gym.”

You turned all the way around from the window to smile bashfully at him, arms wrapped fully around yourself. 

“Really?” You’re closing the distance between the two of you as the word slips out, though you didn’t mean for it to sound so hopeful. “I know you wanted to show me that new regime you made for me. I can just dress extra warm.”

“I’m sure,” He smiled softly at you as you took the coffee from him, exchanging it for a kiss, a favorite currency in your adoring household. He chased after you for a second round, only departing when a concerningly loud pop! sizzles from the stovetop. 

You stand in your spot a moment longer, watching your love tend to breakfast, a sheepish ‘they’re not burnt!’ tossed over his shoulder. As if you cared about anything other than him at that moment. And suddenly your feet were carrying you across the room to him once more, your forgotten mug deposited on the counter. 

“Ei,” You mumble, arms wrapping around his middle from behind, cheek pressed into the space between his shoulder blades. 

“Hm?” He hums in response, and the vibration is felt throughout your body. It’s such a quiet, intimate moment that has your chest squeezing with affection and ears burning bright despite all the months you had spent together. 

“Have I ever told you just how much I love you?” 

“Yeah,” He tells you lightly, a bit of a tease in his voice as he stretches forward to grab two plates from the cabinet beside the stove, and yet you still refused to let go just yet. “But if you want to tell me again, I won’t stop you.” 

He flashes you a grin over his shoulder, so charming with his hair still unstyled and bright eyes full of overwhelming love, that you suddenly grow too flustered to stay in your spot. 

“Dork,” You taunt to deflect from the blush you know he spotted rising high on your face. Twisting away from him, you found a way to be busy by retrieving a glass from its shelf and opening the fridge. 

“So, what do you want to do today?” He’s still fixing both plates with the quick breakfast he’d thrown together: eggs, a few slices of toast, some fruit you had painstakingly cut the day before. You think of an answer to his question while you pour Eijirou’s morning protein smoothie into the glass, though you knew from the moment you woke up what you wanted to do. 

“Breakfast in bed, and then a nap.” You didn’t particularly care that it had only been just under an hour since you had both woken up—a day off practically screamed for a nap. And with how rare it was that your schedules ever aligned so nicely, you were going to take full advantage of every moment your boyfriend gave you. “Maybe a movie on the couch with takeout for lunch?”

“Whatever you want, baby.” He held both plates in his hands, so you carried the drinks, and together you made the slightly frigid journey back to the bedroom. 

You couldn’t help but feel a little giddy climbing back into bed, like somehow, for some reason, you would get in trouble for indulging in the sin of sloth. But then you felt the warmth of Eijirou’s body in bed beside you, one of his legs flung over yours like he couldn’t stand any distance while the two of you ate, and knew that he was just as excited about the idea of a day doing nothing as you were. 

And, really, if you were going to do nothing, you were glad it was with him. 

“I never did tell you, earlier,” You started, filling the comfortable silence that followed Eijirou stacking your plates on his bedside table to deal with later. Enacting the second part of your plans for the day, you both retreated under the covers for a midmorning nap. And with your head tucked into the crook of his neck, legs intertwined, you felt sleep tugging at the corners of your mind. 

“Tell me what?”

“How much I love you.” Your explanation comes with a kiss to his collarbone, delicate and soft, and he shifts just enough to press a matching one to your crown. “It’s a lot, in case you were wondering.”

“I love you, too.” From your spot under his chin, you can’t see his smile, but you know it’s there. You can hear it in his words, can feel it in the way he squeezes you tight for a few extra seconds. 

His smile, his love, is evident in every action. Love lives under the covers where you lay, in the kitchen where he cooked for you, in the living room where he knew without words that you wanted to cancel all plans for the day. 

The love lives in him, and in you, and in the home that you share, even as the months grow cold.

“Oh!” You almost knock your head into his chin as you bolt up on your elbows with an excited gasp, hopeful look in your eyes as you grin down at your boyfriend. “Can we make that soup your mom gave me last week?”

“Sure, sweetheart,” Eijirou darts forward to connect your lips in a short, sweet kiss before flopping back down against his pillow. He’s grinning, suddenly, and you grow suspicious as you recognize the amused look on his face. “But we’re going to have to go out and get groceries for it.”

“Forget it,” You groan, returning to your spot curved against him like a puzzle piece snapping together. “I don’t need it that bad.”

You’re still pouting when he laughs, slow and deep, and kisses the crown of your head. 

“Why don’t we just order groceries?”

first post! why am I nervous about this?

let me now what you think!

and let me know if you want to be added to the taglist for the holiday series or specific days!

[annwrites24]

Organized by @dindjarindiaries for December 2024!

Pairing: Din Djarin x f!reader

Rating: M, but all my content and my blog are 18+ only

Word count: 333

Tags (All parts): fluff, some angst, developing relationship, mentions of loss of parents, second person POV, no use of y/n, hints of smut if you squint.

Day One: Cold

It doesn’t take long before you realize that the best way to describe the Mandalorian is ‘cold’. If you were being generous, you might describe him as ‘serious’, but even that doesn’t seem to capture just how far removed he is from everyone else. He barely speaks; but then again, who would he have to talk to? His child doesn’t seem to be able to communicate much, and you suspect you are the first person he’s allowed to stay on his ship for any extended amount of time. Still, his particular brand of surly silence is a shock to your system when you arrive on board his ship.

His ship is always freezing. Maybe it’s because you’re always on the move, always hopping through hyperspace towards the next destination and the next bounty. That’s not really his fault; he doesn’t have any control over whether or not space is cold. But he doesn’t do much to keep the ship warm, either. You wonder if he’s too cheap to put on the heat when you’re travelling, or if he can’t feel how cold it gets under all the layers of clothing he wears.

His armour certainly doesn’t help, either. You touched it once, when you were passing each other in the cockpit, and your arm had brushed against the metal. The chill had seeped through your clothing and settled into your skin. Maybe the beskar was part of why it was also so cold around him, leeching all the warmth out of the air any room and leaving you shivering in his presence.

But the first time he touches you, it’s warm. Warm leather gloves against your skin. Hot breath on your neck in the dark. Heat building between your thighs. Deep voice burning through you and pleading because he can’t keep himself away anymore, he tried to ignore you, but he can’t help himself. Too soft, too pretty, too warm for him to resist. And the ice between you is already melting away.

Find my other fics on AO3! Header art by me. I do not give permission for any of my work, whole or in part, to be fed into any AI generative program under any circumstances.