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party-hearses · 7 months

Text

go ahead and cry, little girl

pairing: joel x f!reader (no use of y/n)

rating: explicit, MDNI 18+

word count: 2.4k

summary: daddy makes everything better.

warnings/tags: explicit smut, pwp, established relationship, softdom!joel, pre/no outbreak (up to you baby), brief mention of alcohol, daddy kink, pet names (baby, baby girl, little one, little girl), dacryphilia, oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected piv, size kink (big joel is big), overstimulation, creampie. lmk if i’m forgetting anything!

a/n: i said i needed to have the feelings fucked out of me, right?

huge thank you to @bastardmandennis for letting me cry and be dramatic about this, and @nostalxgic for beta-ing, and always being excited about what i’m working on 🖤

You’re two cocktails deep when Joel’s keys turn in the lock.

Anxious muscles carry you to meet him at the door, the overhead lights in the entryway low, cloaking you in shadow.

It startles him, a sharp hiss spit from between his teeth when he nearly bowls you over.

“Shit, baby. Scared me.”

He snaps the door shut behind him, massive frame silhouetted by the broken rays of light coming through the distorted glass.

“Daddy,” you whine in response, fingers already tugging on the cuff on his jean jacket, coaxing it off him.

It’s all he needs to hear.

Immediately, the jacket is on the floor, forgotten, and his hands are cradling your face tenderly.

“You need daddy?” he soothes, lips ghosting your own. You nod, doe-eyes wide and swimming with tears, bottom lip quivering in a pout.

“Baby…” he presses his mouth to yours hungrily, swallowing your pathetic hiccups, letting the way the tip of his tongue slides along the line of your lip finish his sentence. He opens you up for him, licking into you with a different kind of urgency, his tongue massaging hot against your own.

Open palms follow, slipping over the the sensitive flesh of your throat, thumbs tracing crescent moons into your jugular.

Your blood hums under his touch — blooms hot across the plane of your chest, thickens with anticipation. It would be too much, if it wasn’t exactly enough. If you didn’t need it.

His hands fall further, reassuring and insistent, until he’s scooping you up against him, one hand curved against the swell of your ass, fingertips edged just under the lace trim of your panties, the other splayed flat at the small of your back. You cling to him, arms locked around the heft of his neck, face nuzzled into the slope of his shoulder.

“Did my sweet baby have a bad day?” he mumbles into your hair, footfalls heavy in the narrow emptiness of the hallway leading to your bedroom.

You sniffle in response, tears still pinching at the backs of your eyes. He hums a condolence, a promise to make it better, into the delicate shell of your ear.

His arms tighten around you as he drops his body to the bed, positioning you securely in his lap. Absentmindedly, you grind down against him, desperate for him to have you now. To feel only him.

But you know he’ll take his time, given the way the hand on your back crawls up your spine to cradle the base of your skull in its palm. He laces his fingers in the roots of your hair, tugging just enough to tip your head back and meet your gaze.

Crystalline tears stream down the round of your cheeks, the torrid relief of finally being in Joel’s arms overwhelming. A small smile plays across his features when he sees them, eyes a cavernous, pooling black. He brings your face to his mouth, snaking his tongue out to catch the falling drops.

“You’re so pretty when you cry, baby girl.”

You whimper, writhing against his hold — a feeble attempt to roll your hips against his hard length eliciting a pitiful laugh from him.

“No, little one. You know the rules. Let daddy take care of you.”

Another hiccup, more tears, and a supplicant nod follow his command. He purrs against you, hand roaming around the gentle curve of your thigh to your center, where his thumb strokes soft lines across your throbbing clit. A reward for your capitulation.

You squirm under his ministrations, a dark pool of slick soaked across the material of your panties. His pressure remains consistent; practically feather-light and sumptuously tortuous.

The combination of soft lace and calloused skin drives you wild — makes you cant your hips forward, chasing his touch. Even though you know better.

He clicks his tongue against his teeth, tsk tsk, before skimming his other hand down the span of your arm to capture both your wrists in one massive palm behind your back. The muscles in your thighs quiver, knees dug into the bed on either side of him, overextended from the precarious act of balancing on his lap.

You flex your arms against his grasp, wiggling your ass for some kind of leverage. His grip only tightens — pushes forward to arch your body towards him, to press your chest flush to his.

“Little girl…” it’s a warning, his voice dripping as wet as your tears against the dip of your collarbone.

All you can manage is a broken mewl in the shape of his name, letters italicized and underlined with earnest desire. You know it’s exactly what he wants — to break you open completely, flesh and muscle and bone softened into something perfect and pliant.

“Need you, daddy. Need you,” you plead quietly.

His thumb strokes faster, harder. The zipper of his jeans bites into the place your thigh meets your pelvis, the sting of it sending shivers through you when he raises his hips.

“Say please, baby. Ask me nice.”

You don’t need to be told a second time.

“Please, daddy.”

He hums in pleased approval, pausing to skate the angle of his nose against the cut of your jaw.

“Let me undress you, little one.” He tugs your arms back, cupping your ass to steady you as you straighten your legs to shakily stand.

You watch the pull of his biceps through half-lidded eyes as he hooks his thumbs in the waistband of your panties, laving tender kisses across your belly as he eases them down to your ankles. Your fingers clutch his disheveled curls for balance as he does, every graze of his skin against yours dizzying.

His hands slide back up your calves and thighs, languorous and reverent, beard scratching sinful against your softness. The clench of your cunt is persistent, slick dripping down the flesh of your thighs without your panties to stop it.

Your lashes flutter closed, bitten lips popping open as you let the feel of him consume you. It’s the sweep of his fingers that you focus on as they climb up, up, up, bypassing the place you need his touch most, to delve below your t-shirt.

He cups the fullness of your tits there, swiping his thumbs across your sensitive nipples before rolling them to taut peaks between his deft fingers. Sparks of pleasurepain wind through you when he pinches and pulls at them, soft moans decorating the space between your bodies.

The shirt comes off, then, his need growing to mirror your own, his touch more urgent — more desperate. His mouth finds your nipples immediately, sucking each into his mouth to swirl his tongue around the tight buds one at a time.

You tug at his curls gently, heat curving through your limbs. You’re soaked, cunt walls fluttering around nothing, head tipped back and chest heaving. Am I broken enough yet, daddy?

Pulling off your swollen nipple with a pop, he’s up and shucking his own clothing off as fast as you’ve ever seen him. It’s less than a minute before he’s got his arms wrapped around you, hauling your smaller body up the length of the bed to situate your dripping core directly over his mouth.

Your head swims, hands scrambling for purchase on the lip of the headboard before you’re even able to fully process the shift. He wastes no time in hooking his arms over your thighs, spreading you open above him, big brown eyes alight as they watch you flush and squirm.

He licks a broad stripe through your folds slowly, savoring the taste of you. He repeats the action, your fingernails digging divots into cheap wood with every lap. It’s only when you rock against his face rhythmically that he speeds up, pointed tongue flicking against your aching clit expertly. He circles it once, twice, three times before suctioning his lips around the bundle of nerves. The change in pressure makes you buck against him involuntarily, body trembling as he holds your firmly against his mouth.

It’s inescapable, but it’s everything you asked for.

Fingers pressing bruises into your thighs, he doesn’t let up licking figure eights into your folds, nudging his nose against the blinding ache of your clit.

“Daddy, daddy, daddyyy,” you cry, the tense stretch of your muscles ready to snap.

“I know, baby girl, I know,” he coos in response, words tangled by his tongue’s exploration of your velvet center. He dips it further inside you, collecting your slick on the flat of the muscle to drag it back up to your oversensitive bud.

Every nerve ending in your body lights up iridescent, heat swirling up the column of your spine. It’s the oblivion that you’ve been begging for since Joel walked in the front door, and your limbs tremble with deliverance.

He licks you through the aftershocks, tongue unrelenting against you. You whimper, hypersensitive, dropping one hand to card through his sweat-damp hair, a gentle insistence for him to slow down.

But he’s in control, and he knows he’s in control, so he drives his tongue into you as far as he can before laving short, quick strokes over your clit. You’re helpless to it, only able to push down against him, to let him draw another orgasm out of your quaking cunt.

Your second orgasm approaches too quickly, your body overwrought and writhing, slick flooding Joel’s waiting mouth. The noises he’s making are downright obscene, slurping like it’s the first meal he’s had in weeks, cheeks and beard sticky with you.

Panting brokenly, tears welling up in your eyes again, you try to pull away. He doesn’t let you, eyes blazing when you look down at him desperately.

“Cry for me, little girl.” He draws his mouth back just enough to ensure that you hear him — that you understand him.

“Da—” you choke out a sob, knowing that he won’t let you go until you obey.

“Cry for me, and I’ll fuck you like the good girl you are.”

Your drag your bottom lip between your teeth, throat closing around the pleading moans hanging in the warm air of the bedroom.

The tears finally fall, streaming and stormy, down your burning cheeks. Faster than before, the stress and anxiety of the day finally ripping free from the cavern of your chest.

Like he knew exactly what you needed, more so than even you.

They’re heaving sobs, now, a combination of intense relief and overstimulation, Joel’s heart beating hard and angry beneath you. He moans against your pussy, determined to undo you completely, lapping at your clit with reckless abandon.

And there you are again — your third orgasm ripping through you so overwhelmingly that your entire body goes slack, slick spilling down the corners of Joel’s mouth, matting in the length of his dark curls. You succumb to it completely, to him completely.

“There she is, little one. There’s my sweet baby girl.”

And you are — sweet and pliant, overly-sated in the most erotic of ways, and you know without seeing that Joel’s erect cock is absolutely weeping pre-cum.

He doesn’t need to exert much effort to flip you over, to settle you against the pillows, to pose your supple limbs exactly as he wants them. All you can do is watch him through glassy eyes, tear-stained cheeks flush and glistening, the smallest of watery smiles pulling at the corners of your mouth.

Ghosting a knuckle over your soaking center, he leans forward to pepper your jaw with warm kisses, something akin to adoration glowing in his amber irises.

“Okay, baby girl?”

You meet his scorching gaze, nodding demurely. Yes, daddy. Of course, daddy. Take what you need, daddy.

Slipping two fingers into your tight heat, Joel works you open with little resistance. It doesn’t matter how many years you’ve been together, taking him in his entirety is always a stretch. He crooks his fingers to meet that spongy spot inside you, soft strokes making your eyes roll back in your head. But it’s less urgent, less demanding.

The gentleness with which he touches you makes you feel warm all over, a soft roll of your veins under his hands.

But as gentle as he’s being now, you know he needs just as much as you did, pupils blow-out with lust, breathing shattered.

As soon as he draws his fingers out of you, you lift your hand to his length, running the tips of your fingers along the underside of his twitching cock. He swallows hard, rocking his hips forward, allowing you to grasp him in your palm. A strangled groan follows, always so sensitive to your touch.

“Put it in, daddy.”

He drops his head, curls flopping into his eyes, while he grips the base of his cock in his hand to ease the head, flushed a furious red, into your entrance.

You sigh contentedly, already feeling stretched and stuffed as your warmth swallows him inch by inch. No one has ever filled you like he does, has ever undone you like he does.

His hard length disappears inside of you, your walls gripping him impossibly tightly. This is your favorite part — the part where you adjust to his size, where the hint of a painful sting wanes into something utterly delicious. Something you can’t live without.

The thrusts are slow at first, his speed gradually increasing as your pussy pulses around him. Soon enough he’s pumping into you in an allegro tempo — mirroring the quick, bright pace of your heartbeat. You push into his thrusts, running your fingernails over the sticky flesh of his ribcage above you.

He’s so much — hips snapping against you, cock massaging your walls salaciously.

“F-fuck, baby girl,” he stutters, driving into you harder, licking a hot stripe of the column of your throat. He nestles there, nose pressed just below your ear, soft growls snapping from between his teeth. “Gonna c-cum.”

“Cum for me daddy,” you purr, thighs tightening around him, sucking him in deeper. He grinds down into you, pulling out only enough to slam back inside, the tip of his cock nudging your cervix.

One more buck and he’s done for, spilling thick inside of you, filling you completely. He snarls a string of dark moans and expletives, drawing his hips back just to push inside again, edging his cum deeper into you.

It’s perfect.

He collapses to the side of you, chest rising and falling raggedly. You automatically curl into his side, pleased when he wriggles his arm beneath you to stroke his fingers across the curve of your ass.

“What do you say, little girl?”

“Thank you, daddy.”

#joel miller smut #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfic #pedro pascal fanfic

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trashmouth-richie · 2 months

Note

I feel like I’m really bad at prompts so I’m just gonna go with my “do’s” from costar today…

Stomping. Instant coffee. Cold* shower.

*“Cold” autocorrected to “come” and I almost didn’t fix it, soooo…do with that what you will.

OH MY LOVE.

hoping my slutty choices for this prompt find you well.

18+, no minors, acts of sex, yay.

**peep my little hints at 90s tv and movies—there are 4 🖤

<1k

send me a prompt from this post ! (writers block is killing me !)

Cold beads of water trickle like ice down your body. Making your already pert nipples stand at attention and harden in an instant.

Cursing the boy you’ve been best friends with since diapers, you turn the faucet off in a quickened haste— exiting the tub in an anything but graceful fashion, stubbing your toes on the way out.

“Eddie!” your shrill voice is clouded by the throbbing in your foot and the chatter in your teeth. “Did you pay the water bill?”

One job, the menace had one job— one duty for the small shared apartment, and it was to pay the water bill each month.

Wrapping yourself in a threadbare towel that had once been a swim towel for an uppity family— you stomp down to his bedroom, kicking open the door with enough rage to channel Jackie Chan.

You should have knocked. Fuck, why didn’t you knock?

Eddie was naked.

Pale-moon colored ass on display.

Thigh muscles rippled beneath dark patchwork tattoos, arms that never looked muscly suddenly flexed tight. A veiny hand wrapped tight around a black haired pony tail. Hips, his hips were— fucking, thrusting, pounding.

His mouth was slack, slick like an oil painting, head back and eyes rolled to squinted ivory surrounded with a colossal woodland of thick lashes.

Sweat coated his brow, dribbling down until it collected on his cupids bow, a salty pooled tease. His rougey lips were spit coated, sheer— glossy— begging for your tongue to taste them.

Your heart thumped loudly, heat in your core on its own tempo, hot and deep.

And then you hear it.

A whimper. Softer than silk, low, whiny, almost sweetly pathetic in its delivery from a deep space in his throat.

Your cheeks warm, cunt heated like a fire, sirens going off for extreme temperatures.

Oh—fuck.

His eyes meet yours and you hold his gaze for a second. The clouded look of a man being sucked dry took over his normal instant coffee colored irises. Glaucoma esque beauty in the dark swirls, and you wet your lips at the sight of him— at Eddie Munson— resident freak of Hawkins and your best friend.

Jesus.

Both your lips explicitly mutter words with eyes wild doe like. His going from lazy pleasure to shock. Yours were covered with your palm, the other reaching, fumbling for the door knob.

Apologizing profusely you suddenly stammer around clearing your throat and trying to leave ASAP.

The towel around your middle, the only thing keeping you decent, glides to the ground—falling gently like that fucking feather in opening scenes of Forest Gump. Practically in slow motion but still too quick for your blind shut eyes to catch it.

Fuck.

Pulling with both hands on the knob your heart races to shut the door, not registering that the towel is wedged tight between the frame, making it impossible to shut.

Shit shitshitshitshitSHIT

With a last feeble attempt of yanking your arms, the latch clicks into place and you beeline to your room with a slam of your door so hard it ricocheted off the walls, making a framed picture of you and Eddie at a Metallica concert fall to the ground, shattering the glass.

What the fuck? WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?!

Your heart boomed in your ears, back stuck to the door like you were holding it up. It wasn’t the first time you’d seen Eddie naked, pretty sure your entire graduating class saw him naked on more than one occasion. But this?! This was so mouthwatering better than any other time.

Goosebumps spread across your skin at the burned image of Eddie getting head on your retinas. The two of you had never crossed those lines. Each dating, fucking around it never once crossed your mind what he would be like in the sack, or what his sack would be like in your mouth.

You’re pleased when you don’t cringe at the dirty thoughts of him— it felt like second nature, like eve seeing adam —lol okay maybe not, but still! What your mind was conjuring up was biblical.

A giggle surpasses your lips and you wipe a line of drool from the corner of your mouth. Nerves finally settling as your realization hits— who was it?

It wasn’t Sarah, you hadn’t seen her since last fall. Eddie had said she started dating Steve—his comic book “arch nemesis” but in reality another bestie, who spent most of his time wallowing on your couch about Nancy than he did actually going on dates.

Mary ended up being a virgin—preacher’s daughter, one of seven. He stopped seeing Clarissa after she wouldn’t stop over explaining every single minute detail of her day. Could it be the girl with the green leather jacket? Darla? Daria?

The horny ache in your belly soured like curdled milk.

How dare her (whoever she was!) The thought of someone other than you pulling those noises from Eddie suddenly set you on edge. Rage burned through your veins like lightning. Spidering and leeching to your skin.

The pajamas you had taken off before your shower lay in a heap on your floor and you quickly yanked them on. Muttering to yourself about every vile thing you could imagine about whoever the lucky girl was who currently had a mouthful of your roommate.

You needed to leave. The clouds of embarrassment eased overhead, colliding with the lightning making a storm brew deep beneath your surface and you be damned if you were going to let the rain fall whilst still in this apartment.

Keys in your palm you throw open your bedroom door, ready to bolt through your apartment and down to your car— destination unknown.

You nearly knock him over in your attempt to run. But you’re stopped cold by sweaty bangs, a heaving chest, and the same stupid pair of boxers that had small tears along the elastic from years of wear.

“Sweetheart…” he coaxed, voice so sugary and laced with tiny shreds of venom it could ice a wedding cake— then strike you dead.

You had seen plenty of Eddie today, your body screamed for you to leave, but your feet were stuck in the icing, waiting for the bomb to drop.

Warmth from your cheeks from your shame could keep a trailer with broken windows warm in a blizzard—your stomach flipped— dropped like lead as his next words hit like a bullet.

“We need to talk.”

part two

steve tied up

#eddie munson #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x you #eddie drabble #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson blurb #eddie blurb #eddie munson smut blurb #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst

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msfantasy-comics · 11 months

Text

The Perfect Match

Bruce Wayne x Reader

Summary: A head cannon on how you’re the perfect match for Bruce.

Warning: Established relationships

Masterlist - Tip Jar

Bruce had always considered the concept of a perfect match to be a feeble notion. The idea that a someone could be perfect and perfectly compliment one’s self was simply illogical and just not possible.

But that’s the thing about hypotheticals, they’re just theories until proven otherwise. Bruce can distinguish five instances on when he recognised you to be his perfect match.

Intelligence:

You weren’t a genius capable of rattling off theories and solving impossible equations. Not by any means. You were, however, incredibly intelligent when it comes to people and making them feel important.

It wasn’t a super power or psychological trickery. It was that you listened to people and ask them questions about their hobbies or family.

It was the way that you leaned in as if you were keen to hear what that person had to say.

It was the way you smile softly when people start to babble off in excitement as you reciprocate the conversation

Whilst you didn’t fully comprehend quantum physics or the engineering to Bruce Wayne’s degree

You sat there happily indulging Bruce as he discusses a new equation he solved

It was the way you made him feel like he could talk about anything without judgement or without your eyes wondering elsewhere in boredom.

Bruce: “Anyway, you probably have more important things to do.”

Y/n: “Don’t be silly. You’re just as important. Go on, finish what you were saying.”

Independence:

Bruce dreaded needy women who are utterly incapable of being self-sufficient. Who required rescuing and constant entertainment like a puppy.

Bruce: “I have an emergency work trip for an unspecified amount of time. I probably won’t be able to contact you too much. Will you be okay without me?”

Y/n *acting like a damsel in distress*

Y/n: “Oh no! I’m being abandoned in the biggest mansion with a butler, a library and a black Amex card. What could one do with one’s self? What a travesty!”

Bruce would return from his two week trip excited to see you again after not being in contact the whole time.

Only you weren’t at the mansion at 4pm on a Tuesday.

Bruce *calling your phone*

Y/n: “Hi honey! I missed you so much!”

Bruce: “Come home and show me how much you’ve missed me.”

Y/n: “What? I finish work in an hour, surely you can survive 60 more minutes without me- oh I have to go, I’ll see you soon my love!”

Supportive:

Bruce didn’t make it to your anniversary dinner.

He didn’t even have a chance to call you and cancel.

He exited the bat cave feeling utterly guilty for abandoning you on such an important occasion.

Bruce felt utterly defeated. A failure of a father. Batman got into a one on one fist fight with Red-Hood, attempting to save the Jokers life, only for his son to forsake himself. Now he had to face his failures as a husband.

Opening the door he sees you laying in bed, scrolling away at your phone.

As soon as you noticed him you tossed the phone and made a mad dash, pulling him into a bear hug.

Y/n: “Honey, I’m so proud of you. Being there when your son needed you most. You’re such a good man. Don’t be hard on yourself, remember that Jason is a grown man who made his decision.”

Pulling Bruce to bed, you pull him into a tight hold and continue to comfort him.

Bruce really appreciated that you didn’t bring up his absence.

Bruce: “I missed our -“

Y/n: “You didn’t miss anything. Your with me now aren’t you? Happy anniversary my beloved.”

Emotionally Stable:

Damian was over your nagging.

Y/n: “Damian, you need to get more sleep. I’m worried your burning yourself out.”

Y/n: “When was the last time you had a proper meal? You can’t survive off burgers alone you know.”

Y/n: “When was the last time you saw Jon? You have to maintain your friendships or else they fall apart.”

Y/n: “Stop having these energy drinks! It’s basically poison for your body - have you had any water today? You look dehydrated!”

You snatched the can out of his hand and threw it in the bin.

Damian lost his absolute shit.

Damian: “Enough with your incessant criticism!You’re getting on my nerves!”

Crosses his arms over his chest and looks off in irritation.

Bruce stands frowning behind him, ready to give his son the scolding of a life time.

But instead your laughter booms across the bat cave.

You find Damian’s little outburst amusing and adorable rather than rude and hurtful.

Y/n: “You’re right D, I’m sorry, I’ll lay off you a bit.”

You’d pull him into that tight hug he says he hates but he always leans into your comforting hold.

Y/n: “You boys be careful tonight, I’ll see you both in the morning”

#Batman x reader #Bruce Wayne x reader #batman imagines #Bruce Wayne imagines #bruce wayne x y/n #batman x y/n #bruce wayne x you #Batman x you #dc imagine #dc x reader #batboys imagine #batboys #bruce wayne x reader

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withahappyrefrain · 11 months

Note

I wish you would write a fic where... College!Tasm!Peter gets reaallyyy jealous at Reader talking to her ex bf and fucks her on his bed until she’s a bumbling mess 🫣

I think it's time for blonde!Peter to come back

It was stupid. Absolutely ridiculous.

You were barely engaged in the conversation, more focused on the condensation forming on your red solo cup than what your ex had to say.

The interaction shouldn't have bothered him. You were his. Hell, you were even wearing his snapback.

And yet, his blood still boiled at the sight. His hands still balled up into fists. Wade joked that he could steam coming out of Peter's ears.

The dickbag was trying to flirt. Key word was try.

It was awkward as hell, clearly trying to evoke the 'oh remember how much fun we had, minus the part where I ghosted you and refused to eat you out because I'm a little bitch?' card. Every step he took towards you, you'd take a step away. With your arms crossed and the way your eyes focused on anything other than him, it should have been obvious you weren't interested.

And yet, the fucker still had the audacity to put his hand on your shoulder and squeeze it.

Peter didn't have to wait for you to send him the look. He was over there immediately, arm wrapped around your waist.

"She's busy," was all Peter curtly said, before picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder.

Despite your shrieks, you didn't mind it.

Nor did you mind when he brought you to his bedroom.

You especially didn't mind when he had you on your back, knees pressed to your chest as he thrust into you.

"You look so good underneath me babe," He grunted, eyebrows knitted in concentration as he watched your body wither from his touch.

"Y-yeah," his touch was overwhelming, your body reeling from your previous orgasms.

Peter simply smirked, his fingers trailing down to right above where your bodies connected.

Jolts of pleasure sparked throughout your body as his long fingers drew circles on your clit. The band in your stomach kept getting tighter and tighter with each thrust. His teeth sink into your exposed collarbone, eliciting a gasp from your lips.

Only he got to see you like this, back arched with your head thrown back in pleasure. Only he got to make you feel like this, causing your cunt to clench and spasm in pleasure around his cock.

No one else.

"You gonna come again baby? Let me hear it. Let them all hear how much you love my cock."

Normally his dirty words would fluster you. Your cheeks still burn, but this time they're intensifying the ache between your legs, fueling your need to be consumed by him and only him.

What could best be described as a broken wail fell from your lips. In reality, it was doubtful that those in the hallway could hear you over the blaring music. But the idea that maybe they could hear you, could hear the bed frame slam against the wall, could hear the grunts Peter was letting out as you fell apart around his cock, fueled a deeper desire in you two.

Your hands weakly grabbed his bleached hair, making a feeble attempt to tug on the thick locks.

"Don't worry baby, not done with ya. Fuck no," Peter's chuckle was dry, his body trying to hold on, trying to stall off his own release, "You're gonna come again. Whatcha think about that? Ya wanna fall apart on my cock again?"

A whine fell from your lips. Sensitivity surged through your body, mixing with the euphoric pleasure.

"I......I, Peter I-" what were you even asking for?

"Aw, is my baby already fucked dumb from my cock? You're so smart, until my cock is inside ya. Can't focus on anything else can ya?"

"Peter....want...." Normally you were so good at multitasking. But with the way his cock was thrusting in and out of your soaked entrance, the idea of being able to focus on anything other than the sensation between your legs seemed next to impossible.

"C'mon baby," His breath is hot against your ear, "Use ya words."

A feeble moan fell from your lips as you shook your head. It was too much, but somehow also not enough.

What did you want? The words were on the tip of your tongue, tricking you into thinking you could express them, only to run away as soon as Peter's cock brushed against that one spot that made you see stars behind your eyelids.

"C'mon, use your words," His speed increases, his hands now grabbing the flesh of your hips as he drives into you, "What. Do. You. Want?"

Each word is emphasized with a pointed thrust. His honeyed eyes are overtaken with lust, irises overblown by a pure black. The scent of cinnamon is overwhelming your nostrils as his stubbled jawline brushes against yours.

It's only when you feel his cock twitch inside of you that you find the words, now driven by a red hot burning need.

"Want your cum! Want your cum inside me, please, want it so bad, wanna be filled with you, want you to fill me up, please Peter!"

His thrusts slow down, which you think is done to tease. In reality, Peter knows if he doesn't, he'll come immediately. And he wants to draw this out as long as possible. Wants people to notice that you and him have been gone for quite some time.

Peter's imagining your stupid ex still lingering around. Dumbass was probably wondering how you two weren't done yet, given the man's notorious record for the quickest, saddest sex ever.

"Peter-"

"I got ya baby," he leaned down, hovering over your body as he pulled your thighs to his hips. He was now (somehow) deeper inside of you, hips rutting into yours.

"Gonna fill you up real good. Make you mine." You can only whine at his words, your body overstimulated from the immense pleasure.

His lips swallowed your moans. You didn't even need to look, you could feel that smirk radiating off of him. A deep groan fell from his lips when he felt your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him even closer.

Between the bass from the outside music vibrating the floor to the smell of cinnamon that always engulfed Peter, you felt completely at bliss, content for him to continue to use you until his own release.

With one final tug on his hair, Peter's hips stuttered before coming inside of you. What were once moans and wood slamming filling the room were now heavy pants as you both tried to catch your breath.

"That was...wow."

Peter lifted his head up, a boyish grin overtaking gus face, "Was? Who said we were done?"

"Peter....you already..." You froze upon realizing he was still hard. Still inside of you.

"Perks of a radioactive spider bite. I'm far from done with you babygirl."

You were in for a long night.

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neteyamsyawntu · 7 months

Text

Kinktober 15

S i z e D i f f e r e n c e

Neteyam x Human!Reader

✨Friendly Disclaimer: The content of this story contains aged-up characters! If this is something that makes you uncomfortable, please feel free to click or scroll away. The last thing I want is for anyone to read something they are uncomfortable with, however if you decide to interact with any negativity, you will be blocked from my blog as a result.

Warnings: 🔞MINORS DNI🔞, P in V, fingering, interspecies relationship, full nelson position, dom!Nete, mean!Nete, dirty talk, vulgar language, size kink, belly bulge. Original Nete art by @cinetrix

A thick warmth slithered through your core. A physical manifestation of desire and need, fueling your every move as your hips frantically bucked against the large palm of your na’vi mate. His thick fingers, loving lodged into your cunt, stroking and caressing your soft walls, emitting squelching noises from a mixture of your tightness and dripping essence, echoing off the walls of your bedroom. Again the surge of warmth roars in the depths of your stomach and again, you find yourself rolling your hips more roughly against his hand. “Teyam… please…” you plead, incautiously wrapping your small, feeble hand around his wrist in attempts to shove his already deep fingers further into you. This of course wasn’t the first time you had been intimate with your lover and your body had adjusted to taking his fingers rather easily by now. It was almost painstakingly so that when you would beg your mate for more, he would sympathetically reject your proposal, to give you his dick. Neteyam let’s out a soft groan, nuzzling into the crook of your neck while he simultaneously palms himself through his loincloth.

His groan is one of both pleasure and frustration, placing a firm and tender kiss on your pulse to soothe your nerves, “Please yawne, let us enjoy each other like this…” Neteyam knew very clearly of your wishes, hell even he couldn’t deny how badly he craved more than anything to feel your pussy desperately clinging to him as you stretched around his cock, yet his better judgment deterred him from giving into them. His biggest priority above anything was your safety and if he were ever to fail by no fault other than his own recklessness, Neteyam would probably cease to be able to even look at you properly, let alone allow himself the gift of being in your company. A tightness in your chest accompanied with a familiar stinging in your eyes began to fester, as the rejection at yet another one of your advances was pushing you to your limits. With your grip tightening on his wrist, you hastily withdraw his hand from between your thighs, his two fingers soaked in your juices. With a confused look, Neteyam watches you scoot up to sit on your bed, pulling your knees to your chest, his brows furrow as he realizes you are purposely hiding yourself from him, your eyes cast to the opposite wall of the room.

Neteyam sighs, adjusting his own position in attempts to move closer and grant you proper comfort, yet you shift away from his touch, sending a pang of hurt to his heart. “Y/N I know it is frustrating, but please try to understand-.”, “-I know, you don’t want to hurt me, I get it… but how can you be so certain that you will?” You retort, shooting him your own expression of distaste. Your sudden change in tone makes Neteyam’s jaw reflexively tighten, closing his eyes momentarily while he takes in a calming breath. “We’ve already had this conversation, my love. Many times.”, “Then why do you keep fighting it? I know you want this just as much as I do. You have to!” You fume, voice cracking as your eyes well with frustrated tears, repressed insecurities now slowly creeping their way to the surface, “Do you not want to be tied to me in such an intimate way, is that it? Am I that undesirable to you that I’m only worth a little fun to get yourself off?!” Your words were like poison to his ears, Neteyam couldn’t even truly wrap his head around whether you really meant this or not.

With his ears flattened, Neteyam reaches out for you again, placing his hand on your thigh, “Ma’ Y/N… I am already tied to you like I am to no other. If I could keep you all to myself, I would have it no other way. There is no one else I would rather have as my mate.”. Your heart clenched at his words, now of course feeling ridiculously guilty and stupid for your accusation, your tears calmly rolled down your cheeks as you placed your hand atop his, “Then why won’t you at least try to “properly” mate with me! I don’t care how much bigger you are than me, be rough with me, give into your urges, hurt me- I don’t care!”. Neteyam stuck his tongue in his cheek as his nose scrunched in a slight snarl, retracting his hand from your thigh to create a distance between the two of you. “No. I will not put you at risk. End of story.” He says simply glaring down at your small form. You scoff, eyeing him wildly before promptly hopping off of your bed, bending down to grab your clothes, quickly pulling your shirt over your head and beginning to step into your shorts. “What are you doing?” Neteyam asks confused, his eyes trained on you as you made your way to the door, “I’m tired of being treated like some fragile antique. So until you get over your little fear, I’m off limits. No touching.” You huff, twisting the door handle only opening to a slightly ajar position until it is quickly shut from behind you, a large, blue, 3 fingered hand pressed to the door just above your head.

“Y/N you are acting like a child throwing this tantrum.” He grumbles from above you, his massive frame pinning you to the door without even having to lay a finger on you. Turning around you lift your head to look at him directly, crossing your arms as you lean back on the door frame, “So what? Clearly your desire to touch me isn’t as strong as you lead on, so why not just stop all together?”. Neteyam’s nose wrinkled as it scrunched further, showing a bit of his fangs in the process. His other hand shifted to grab your wrist, bringing your hand to his still very obvious and large erection, placing it over the fabric of his tewng to let you feel it’s firmness, “Is this not proof enough of how much I want you? How much my body craves you.” You simply stare up at him unphased, cocking a brow as if to say, “is that all?”. Noting that this display is doing nothing to ease your mind, Neteyam slowly crouches down to your level, his hand slowly traveling up your side, fingers delicately trailing from your hand to your shoulder, then up to your cheek, caressing it gently, his gaze intense and enticing, before he drops his hand to your waist, letting it circle around your backside. A sudden gasp escapes you when you are pulled flush against his chest, forced to stand between his gargantuan legs, leaning his face to press his lips against your ear, “You are really starting to get on my nerves, little one…”.

With a deep rumbling growl in his chest, moves both hands to forcibly push your shorts and panties down to your ankles, before pressing a palm to your rear and easily scooping you into his arms. “Teyam!” You exclaim struggling in his hold, before he drastically changes his handling of you, allowing one arm to drop while the other only supports your buttock. With a slight yelp, your arms quickly pull themselves around his neck to bring yourself tightly against his front as Neteyam stood to his full height, lifting you off the ground with him. Ignoring your protests Neteyam walks to a corner of the room, leaning his back into it while watching you struggle to keep yourself secure on his torso. “Teyam please I’ll fall!”, you plead, wrapping your legs around his waist, using all of your upper body strength to keep yourself from falling ass first onto the floor. “No. Don’t you dare fall.” Neteyam growls, slightly shifting the hand that was holding your ass to slide his fingers between your folds, gathering your remaining arousal to spread it over your intimates. Your body shivers at the sudden contact, brows pinching together as your trembling limbs make it harder for you to stay in position. “Net- Neteyam please… my legs- I can’t-.”, “-No, you want to act like a brat? Hold yourself up, tawtute.” He orders, sliding his fingers further to begin flicking wildly at your clit, intensifying the shivering in your legs. With a desperate yet pleasured cry, your arms tighten themself around his neck, locking in place by grabbing your opposite elbows. With his other hand, Neteyam scoops the length of your hair into his fist, pulling it off of your neck to give him plenty of flesh to feast on, his lips almost immediately finding home on your pulse, nibbling at it roughly.

Your back arches, mouth falling open to allow your moans to escape freely. The sensation of your sensitive nub being so carelessly ravaged caused an instinctive jerk of your hips, willing your legs to cling as tight as they could to his sides. “Fuuck, Teyam! Oh god…” you whine, leaning your cheek against his head as he eagerly lapped at your neck, decorating it in several dark marks. You could already feel how wet you were getting, noting how Neteyam’s fingers got slipper the more he continued to stroke you, occasionally sweeping his digits across your folds to gather more of your juices only to spread them over your clit and continue rubbing it in extremely tight circles, “Eywa… you’re dripping wet, yawne. My eager little tawtute is so desperate to be fucked, aren’t you?”. Your toes curl as your clit is overstimulated, pushing you to your limits as you can feel yourself struggling to hold yourself up with the pressure of your oncoming orgasm, your noises of pure ecstasy becoming uncontrollable.

Neteyam’s ears flicked and swiveled at the peak in your voice, his cock throbbed hungrily through the rough fabric of his loincloth. His unusually aggressive touches drew out the most guttural and primal sounds from you that only fed his growing desire to fuck you into a horny heap. While your back arched immensely just as your orgasm was hitting, Neteyam took your climbing voice as a sign to push further, sinking his three fingers directly into your cunt. You cry out, throwing your head back, toes curling tightly as you lock your legs around his waist as much as possible, the minute you feel yourself forgetting to keep your grip. Neteyam’s mind began to check in and out of reality as his self control steadily lessened, groaning at the feeling of your pussy walls fluttering around his fingers. The room is filled with your heavy panting as you tiredly attempt to catch your breath, dipping your head forward to rest against his shoulder, finally feeling some relief and a sense of calm after the storm, your clit still pulsing from its affects. Neteyam watches you in awe, his expression shifting to hold a slight smirk as he nuzzles against the side of your head, “Tired already, yawne? Isn’t this what you wanted?”. You weakly nod in response, a small shaky whine breaking through your lips.

A shiver shoots up your spine when Neteyam’s wet tongue came into contact with the shell of your ear, “Good, but I didn’t say I was done with you.”. Carefully sliding his fingers out of you, Neteyam’s arms then move to firmly secure around your back, prompting you to ease up on your hold and allow your muscles to finally relax, feeling the sudden ache of their strain. Your eyes suddenly shoot open when Neteyam begins to shift your position, turning you around effortlessly to hold your back against his chest. Holding you firmly against him with one arm, Neteyam allows his other hand to slip behind his backside, his fingers masterfully untying his loincloth. All you hear is the bit of fabric drop to the floor, before your body is pulled slightly downward, enough for Neteyam’s now free cock to slide across your plump ass. Saying nothing, but letting out low groans, Neteyam shifts his arms under your knees and looping them under your armpits, locking his hands behind your head. “Wai- aah! Teyam, what are you…?” You whine, squirming slightly in the odd position, when Neteyam takes the initiative to use your body as if it were his own personal toy, shifting you back and forth to glide the shaft of his cock along your folds.

“I’m going to do what you asked of me, yawne- I’m giving into my urges.” Neteyam’s head feels like it’s spinning, almost as if he’s in a dream state as his instincts scream at him to hurry up and take you. Releasing a low gravely hum, Neteyam angles your body to line you up with his cock, it’s fat tip prodding your entrance intently, waiting for the moment to push it inside to feel your gummy walls wrap around him at last. His cock twitches needily at the thought of it, giving your folds a light tap. You could feel your pulse picking up rapidly, the position you were folded into completely immobilized you from escaping his grasp. Of course you had asked for this and while part of you was admittedly nervous, the hold of his strong arms mixed with that of the way his tip so lovingly glided against your folds only fueled your own hunger. Then you felt it, pressure. The pressure of Neteyam making his first attempts to push himself inside of you, his tip now lathered with your juices, slides in slowly with a bit of a push. Your eyes almost rolled into the back of your head that very moment, yet you had to remain composed, wanting to stay relaxed to take as much of him as your body would allow. Your voice broke into a slight squeal as Neteyam’s cock wedges it’s way into your taut walls, his ears creased against the sides of his head, his mouth agape, savoring every moment of his thick cock performing the impossible task of making your petite hole it’s home.

His eyes trained on the way your body submissively made room for his abnormally large dick, opening up to take him inch by inch, stretching, accommodating to his size. If he hadn’t drawn his bottom lip between his teeth at that moment to groan in ecstasy, he mentally swore he would’ve been drooling at the sight. Then your weak and harsh whines echoed in his ears again, professing your discomfort as more of his cock disappeared into your body. Leaning down into your ear, Neteyam nuzzles into the side of your head, whispering a gentle, “Shhh almost there, yawne…”, while he reels his hips back ever so slightly, just to push further with more ease, making you shiver. The intense pressure of Neteyam’s cock head pushing against your stomach from the inside, made your eyes roll. While the sensation itself wasn’t particularly comfortable, there was something about it that only turned you on further, “S-so full…” you whimper out, your hands absentmindedly wandering to grasp onto him however you could in this position. Neteyam could feel it too with how desperately your cunt clung to him, the pressure of your tightness completely holding him snuggly inside of you, was almost too much, boarding suffocating.

“I feel you… stuffed so full of me, little one…” Neteyam coos in a soft whisper, his own voice slightly trembling as he swallows trying to regain his focus. The muscles in his arms flex as he holds you more securely in his grasp, moving your body as a whole to slide you up his shaft before dropping you back down to meet his pelvis, exhaling a deep guttural groan at the euphoric feeling. Your hands move to grasp over his own, positioned behind your head, mentally noting how Neteyam had slightly shifted his stance, bending his knees and angling your body seemingly for better movement. Then it started, the slow repetitive movements of your body being rocked back and forth to meet his thrusts. The gentle slap of your ass against his lower abdomen made you blush, small punched out noises fell from your lips, enjoying the slow pace while it lasted, which wasn’t for much longer as the slapping of skin became louder and more frequent. Neteyam had complete and utter control of your body, using it to appease his own selfish desires, letting out satisfied moans with each kiss of your rear against his pelvis. He assumed your body would have relaxed and loosened the further it adjusted to his presence inside of you, yet it turned out to be quite the opposite. Being so undeniably full, each curve and ridge of your fragile little pussy was being stroked and caressed with each thrust, causing your cunt to clench tightly around him in an unconscious effort to keep him there.

It was no surprise to you when his cock pressed deliciously against the opening of your cervix, the pressure in your stomach never fading as you felt him bulge through your tiny form over and over again, it almost felt addicting. Forcing your mind out of its state of peaceful bliss with the current pace of his thrusts, Neteyam switched his speed once more, greedily rutting into your cunt to feed his needs, his large fingers fisting through your hair, moaning and panting uncontrollably. Sounds that harmonized with your own as your body was pushed to its limits, taking him at an almost inhuman pace, screaming your curses out into the space of your room, “Fuck, fuck, fuck! AHHG Net- haaah!”. Neteyam panted heavily in your ear, his eyes closing tightly only to open momentarily to glance down at your stretched out opening, milking his cock with ease, watching how more and more of your arousal was building up on his shaft, seeing as how your body was being forced to overcompensate and provide additional lubricant to be able to take him so fluidly.

“You’re making such a mess, yawne… so wet, taking your mate’s cock like a good little toy. So perfect…” Neteyam hums between moans, his words coming out somewhat slurred and mumbled, too busy with getting absolutely drunk off of you, his lower abdomen getting sticker as your folds so graciously painted it with your juices. Your ears hardly even picked up on his words as your own pleasured mewls permeated your ears, fingernails digging into the blue skin of his knuckles while your body was being jerked and jolted at an extreme pace. Again you found yourself unable to verbalize when you felt the knot growing in your stomach with your quickly approaching second climax of the evening, only being able to vocalize it in pleasured sobs. Neteyam could feel your cunt fluttering and clenching even tighter around him, only fueling his need to fuck you sensless, rocking into you harder as you released around him. “That’s it… fuck such a good little cock sleeve for me…” Neteyam purrs breathily into your ear when your pitch slightly lowers, fucking you through your high. You find your toes curling once again as the na’vi continues relentlessly bucking his hips into you, desperate to reach his own release, feeling the pressure in his shaft begin to fester as he twitches within the right embrace of your cunt. His voice shifting interchangeably from both breathy moans to growling and chest rumbling groans, his tail wrapping around your thigh as he pushed his hips faster, feeling himself just on the brink of cumming. “Ahhh fuck- I’m going to make you all nice and full with my cum, my syulang... Wanna breed this little pussy, until your womb is full with my child.” Neteyam was passed the point of thinking coherently, yourself noting that he probably wasn’t even fully conscious of what he was saying. Although there was no solid proof that a na’vi and human could reproduce, the thought of your belly becoming round and firm with his baby inside of you, made your womb cry out for just that.

“It’s coming.. I’m going to cum- great mother… take all of it, yawne!” Slamming you down onto his pelvis two more times, Neteyam releases his hot load into you, bubbles of it emerging at the seam where your bodies connected to which Neteyam promptly fucked back into you with a few shallow thrusts. Your muscles felt weak and strained not only from the beating your pussy had just undergone, but from the intensity of being folded in half for so long. Feeling your trembling muscles against him, Neteyam gently eases out of you, carefully shifting his arms to cradle you like an infant, his lips hungrily finding yours as he walks you over to your bed, laying both of you down on it. Neteyam of course couldn’t fit his full body onto the mattress, but that did little to stop him from spooning you, pulling your chest close to his, his nose sweetly nuzzling into your hairline, his fingers wandering down between your legs, where your hips jerked slightly upon contact when his fingers press against your throbbing hole, pushing his leaking seed back into you to ensure you kept every single drop inside of you. “Mmn Tey… you know there’s hardly any chance of me actually getting pregnant right?” You coo softly, stroking his cheek softly with your thumb, “Perhaps… but that will not stop me from trying. I’ll be sure to fill you like this every time regardless of the outcome.” Neteyam hums in a raspy, breathless voice, placing a passionate kiss on your forehead, his other hand moving to stroke your thigh, “You’ll be my sweet little cumdump… my own personal toy.”. You blush as the obscenely lewd nicknames, giggling softly as you cuddle closer into his chest, “and your mate.”, “And of course, my mate.”

Tag list: @pandoraslxna @dvxsja @jakexneytiri @blue-slxt @neteyamsoare@tiredmamaissy, @neteyamsikran @oceanstar19 @hadesbabygurl @xylianasblog @neteyamssyulang @anonymousailurophile @netyamstruelove @eyrina-avatar @justcaptiannoodles @teymars @neteyamyanw3 @eyweveng

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kivino · 7 months

Text

TAKE US BACK || ZOMBIE AU || KYLE ‘GAZ’ GARRICK X GN!READER

Word Counter – 6.4k words

Summary – The new world was rotten, and you rotted away with it.

Tags/Warnings – Zombie AU (heavily twd coded, don’t expect some l4d type of stuff /lh. Death and turning after the bite ARE slower, however. For the sake of drama. obviously), gore, blood, gn!Reader, established relationship, heavy angst, major character death.

A/n – So, this fic is my contribution to the spooky season! Special thanks to @mockerycrow for helping me with the pictures for the header, you're the best, pookie!!! I have a playlist for this fic too, so in case you want to read this with complete immersion I’ll link it here. Enjoy <333

also available on my ao3

upd. if you saw that unfinished paragraph you didn’t see anything, move along 👁️👁️

“Kyle, I think…I think I’m bitten.” was all it took to shatter him into millions of tiny pieces. Just like that. Nothing mattered anymore, even that you promised each other to stay alive, no matter what. In the back of his mind, he knew all those promises muttered into his lips while he feverishly kissed you were empty, shallow attempts to silence his mind, to make him sleep in peace, thinking you’ll be there no matter what. And of course, he didn’t doubt your words even for a split second.

Kyle knew he was a fool to believe that. To think the two of you were inseparable. In a world like this, how could one even think of something staying forever untouched by decay that spread far beyond the horizon? Rot overtook everything, and if something was still untouched by it, soon enough that wither would find a way to slither inside, spoiling it forever. It would even find its way into people’s minds, ruining humanity in a manner no physical disease could ever hope to damage them. Kyle and you have seen it happen far too many times, and his only wish was for you to meet your end together, peacefully. But now…he only wished he had the strength to go on, he truly did.

Because you needed him. Now more than ever.

And so, he kept trying. If he didn’t then both of you would be done for. You didn’t deserve that, not when all he wanted was for you to be safe and well, not caring much about himself. You were the one who saved him when all the shit went down, now it was time to return the favor. So, he pushed himself through every agonizingly slow day. But he was starting to feel the already feeble remains of his strength slipping away from him. He wouldn’t give up, however. Never. Not when your life depended on it.

That’s why while you were bedridden, weakness setting in your body as a permanent, bitter resident, Kyle was scouring the old town for fever and cold medicine, trying to be as quiet as possible, not to attract any undead. He had a gun, but he did not use it – too loud and bullets were a luxury, not a commodity. Kyle only had one bullet, following the advice of a nice older man with mutton chops he remembered meeting in one of the survivor camps a long time ago.

“Always save the last bullet for yourself or your loved ones. You never know who’ll need it more”

Methods aside, recent days were spent wandering abandoned houses in attempts to find at least some food for the two of you. Only when the darkness started to settle, Kyle would head back, throwing his backpack over the fence and barely managing to climb it, sore muscles and empty stomach sending jolts of pain all through his body. Even then, he was restless, sitting by your side, wiping your forehead of sweat, and taking your temperature. Your breathing was strained, chest rising and falling under thin blankets that barely kept you warm. And each time he looked at you for more than a minute at a time he felt his insides twisting in pain, eyes getting white-hot with tears, and throat closing, barely letting him take a short breath just so he doesn’t suffocate in his misery.

And then the sun rises, warm rays painting the room in a variety of colors, falling over your face, morning birds wake up Kyle from his nightmare-filled sleep. He jolts awake from the dreams, filled with the image of you, dying in agony over and over, crying out for help, begging him to do something. You get torn apart, your intestines spilling out on the damp floor, pulled out by a crowd of the undead who devour you with vigorous hunger, biting into your flesh until he can’t recognize your face from the bloody and mangled pulp that rotting hands and jagged teeth turn you into. Your raw, pained screams haunt him even when he’s awake, observing you lose your life all over again. Much slower and in a much more painful way.

The sun rises. And so does Kyle. Your desperate pleas that drag from the dream are muffled as soon as he sees you sleeping. Forgetting, that you were getting weaker with each day that passed. Choosing to bask in your tranquil glow, in the way your eyelashes fluttered while you slept, choosing to neglect the worry clawing on the back of his mind just to stay like this with you for a little longer. Kyle knew he couldn’t delay the inevitable, but he still decided to make the best out of the short amount of time he had left with you. Hoping that some miracle would happen and you wouldn’t succumb to the decay. That the bite would turn out to be a bad dream you both had on the same night, waking up from it in cold sweat, searching for the comfort of each other’s embrace, while letting out relieved sighs, realizing that you’re safe.

That would be great, wouldn’t it?

Instead, he shakes you awake with a gentle hand, almost not wanting to wake you up from your slumber. You blink up at him, looking even more tired than before you went to sleep. Circles under your eyes are even darker than the previous night. And Kyle is in pain once again. He wants to help you up, throwing your arm over his shoulder, to lead you through the long, silent halls of the school where you were staying, full of dust and damp, moldy smell, to have breakfast together. Like good old times. But he sees that in your eyes, you’re too weak to pull your weight up and stand up. So, he brings the heated-up cans of beans here, putting one on a stool in front of you, helping you to sit up before he even thinks of touching his food.

“Kyle, that’s twice what I usually eat.” You mutter, watery eyes rising to him, sitting on the mattress in front of you with his legs crossed. He raises his eyebrow and his head shifts to the side in a questioning motion.

“Well, you have to eat plenty to recover.” He said, matter-of-factly. You stay silent, unwilling to have that debate right now. You barely managed to stay awake as it is. Let him think that you’ll get better, despite everything you saw together. Despite every rule that you’ve discovered. Let him live in the illusion, in the waking dream that all will be well if he tries hard enough. “Well, what are you waiting for? It’s growing cold”

You didn’t realize that you’d been drilling the can of steaming beans in front of you with your glassy gaze for the past several minutes, submerged in your thoughts deep enough to suffocate. You pick up the spoon with a weak, shaky motion. Then your eyes fall on the can. Somehow, you knew that you wouldn’t be able to pick it up. Failing at something so simple…you knew it’d hurt your pride even more. So, you opted to push the tin closer to the edge of the stool.

Kyle glanced over at you, beads of sweat glistening on your forehead. He sensed the fatigue from you, lacing the air that surrounded you and leaving dark, oily traces over anything your fingers lingered on. You breathed sickness. Your hands, which were able to easily bash an undead’s head on the wall just several days ago, now could barely hold a spoon steady without it trembling and threatening to fall, spilling all the contents over the moth-eaten blanket. He felt his heart squeeze in pain, and he swore that something shattered inside of him once again.

“Let me help you.” Although it sounded like an offer, Kyle didn’t look like he was going to let you debate it, shuffling closer to you, taking the spoon from your hand in a swift motion. You purse your lips, knowing that protesting that would be stupid. If it wasn’t for how weak and sick you were, and for a lot of other circumstances, it would be a cutesy moment. Your dear spoon-feeding you something? Please, one’s teeth would rot from how sweet it is. But now it was just another deep, bleeding gash on your pride. Kyle blows on the food, cooling it off and promptly moving it towards your mouth with his hand cupped just under the spoon. You obediently clamp your lips around the spoon. “There we go.” He gives you a small smile, but you see the melancholy in his eyes when Kyle wipes the corner of your mouth with his thumb. He means well, yet you can’t help but feel like you’re a burden to him.

You loathed being like this. Being this weak. Fragile. You were able to fend for yourself, you had resilience and strength, but now you were just rendered useless, only dragging Kyle down, depriving him of the freedom to go on.

He’ll die if he continues like this.

You knew it. He was exhausted, and you’ve been like this for a little over a week. Survival wasn’t about skill anymore, it was about luck. You lost yours already, the moment rotten, jagged teeth sunk into the flesh of your forearm like it was butter, drawing the first blood. But Kyle, he…sooner or later he will lose his luck too. And it was apparent that it was coming sooner than you anticipated. A bullet he won’t be able to dodge. An infected scratch. An undead that he simply didn’t notice because of how tired he is. A bear trap in the vicinity of someone’s camp. Something will get to Kyle. Or someone. And thankfully, you won’t be here to witness it. Hopefully.

“What are you doing? Where are we going?” You barely managed to mutter out, clinging to him with all the strength you had, which, to be fair, wasn’t a lot. He could feel the cold of your hands clasped around his neck even through several layers of his clothes. Kyle’s hands carefully held you under your thighs as he went up the stairs, not showing any signs of exertion except for beads of sweat on his temples.

“Just thought we might watch the sunrise together, like good old days” You could hear the soft smile that tugged on his mouth when he said that. Another reminder for you that he probably loathed the way you lived right now and would prefer to go back to the way things were. With you not being his…burden.

You didn’t need to be reminded of this. Of the “good old days”. Finding that abandoned farm, deep in the buttcrack of the countryside was what saved the both of you when the world started going to shit. You and Kyle met each other years prior, but it didn’t matter anymore. Not when everything as you knew it was gone.

Hiding there gave you a sense of normalcy you missed so much, after having to live for months, years like an animal. You didn’t feel like the world as you knew it was falling apart beyond that fence with cracked white paint. Deserted fields full of dead crops, empty house with a bunch of stuff forgotten or thrown around messily - it was obvious the owners wouldn’t come back any time soon. Snooping around gave you too much information - you couldn’t help but feel a bitter burn on the back of your throat when you picked up a framed family photo from the fireplace, five tan faces staring back at you with perpetual smiles etched into the glossy paper.

You didn’t have the gall to throw away or burn everything personal the previous family left behind. Photo albums, children's clothes and toys, diplomas, drawings, letters, posters, and even something as small as shopping lists on the fridge, five life stories were packed into several boxes, taped and put in the attic. Kyle didn’t understand your wish to preserve something that wasn’t even yours, but he didn’t interfere, choosing to give you a hand instead. If it helped you to sleep in someone else’s bed calmer, replacing the presumably dead strangers, he was willing to indulge you.

Despite how far away from the civilization this farm was, seeing an undead roaming around wasn’t a very rare occurrence, but at least you could handle the occasional walking corpses. You wake up, you go on patrol. You finish patrol, and you meet the sunrise with Kyle by your side, wrapping his arm around your shoulders, with a blanket thrown over the both of you, sitting on the front porch, right on the creaking stairs. These fleeting moments felt so right. Like home.

Eventually, you had to continue moving. Started to run short on supplies ever since then. Running into all sorts of different people, relying on strangers, leading a nomad way of life. It wasn’t unfulfilling, since you only needed the company of each other to keep it together. In a variety of groups that you’ve been through it was always a known fact that you’ll stick by each other before someone else.

All he needed was your loving hug when you came back from a supply run. A soft kiss that you would put on that scar right on his cheek. Or to hold your hand under the table when you sat down to eat with whatever group you were with this week, like your love for each other was a secret meant only for the two of you. All you needed was his warmth, his comfort, his mere presence, that would light up your shitty day like a damn light beam. He managed to take your breath away each time he looked at you with such gentleness and softness that sometimes you didn’t think you deserved it. You’ve found the world in each other. A purpose.

So what is Kyle going to do when you’re gone?

The morbid thought suddenly crosses your mind, while the man carefully sits you down on a worn lawn chair with a soft grunt, plopping down on the ground by your side, warm palm reassuringly resting on your thigh. Bringing you down to earth. Gusts of frosty wind brush through your hair, nipping at your cheeks, nose, and ears. You missed the outside, despite it being quite cold and unwelcoming this time of the year.

“I think the herd's close. See that dust?” Kyle taps you lightly on your leg and points towards the horizon. And true to his words, there is a fine dark line separating the sky, burning up in a mix of reds and yellows, from the earth. “They’re moving weird.”

“What does that mean?” you croak at Kyle, not able to peel your eyes from that sheet of gray, bunched-up dust that sat on the edge of the horizon like a shadow.

“Means if we’re lucky they’ll pass the school.” Kyle mutters, trying to reassure you, giving your thigh a gentle squeeze.

And then it clicks.

When he came back from the supply run you were nowhere to be found in the wind-torn building. There were no traces of you in the old cafeteria on the first floor where the two of you would heat up the canned food that your taste buds got used to over the long months the end of the world stretched over. Before you got bit.

He felt his heart sink to his stomach, so nauseous from the mere thought of something happening to you. Kyle fought himself not to double over, press his forehead against the wall and throw up everything you two had for breakfast until he feels the acidic burn on his tongue and cries his damn eyes out from the pain. You knew that the herd was getting closer, why did you have to disappear right now? You two were supposed to wait it out together, by each other’s side. What were you doing, and more importantly, what were you thinking? Nothing made sense. Nothing at all.

Kyle felt the wall with an awkward, stiff motion of his hand, before putting his weight on it and sliding down, he felt like his legs could not hold him anymore. You barely had the strength to sit upright, where would you go in your condition?

The only place he could think of that was close enough for you to get to was the motor inn down the street. Of course.

The herd was already here. Kyle had no time to spare, he needed to act now, to get you and run away as fast as possible. He remembered there was a car in that old motor inn, so that could be your getaway plan, sure thing he could figure something out…and to get there…He can use that old trick that another group of survivors taught you two. “If you smell like them, they won’t notice you, simple as that. Just make sure not to bump into anyone, or they’ll get real friendly with you.” Of course. It was that easy. You never resorted to that trick, preferring to avoid or dispose of the undead on sight. But desperate times call for desperate measures.

Kyle cringed at that sinking feeling in his stomach, but not at the thought of having to walk through the herd and probably be eaten alive, no. The possibility of you not being in that motor inn was what made that hollow pit inside of him grow. The fact that he might never see you again. Or that he would find you already gone.

He moves with calculated precision. Catch the undead’s attention, yellowish whites are dull under the daylight. Let it get close enough, it groans with each movement, joints snapping and clicking. Make the undead lose its balance, kick it in the knee, and the rotting leg almost falls off under the force that Kyle unintentionally applies. Destroy the brain, put a hunting knife right to the forehead, and let it thud to the ground, finally at rest. He’s thoughtlessly going through the motions, every step ingrained into his consciousness, almost like second nature to him. Rips through the stomach of the undead, black, resinous blood oozing out. Sinks his hands in the intestines, they smell so strong Kyle tears up and gags, hands shuffling around clothes caked with dirt and grime, swiping putrid, nasty mass all over himself. But it’s nothing. It’s alright. It will be worth it when he finds you.

After that, everything he remembers is under a thick blanket of haze, accompanied by the smell. You never get used to it. He feels nauseous, his insides twisting in worry, gnawing and biting at his heart like a terrified, desperate dog. His eyes grasp onto anything, but all Kyle sees is the sea of rotting flesh all around him, groans and moans of the undead so echoing in his ears loud all he wants is to tumble to the ground and end it all. He barely breathes with how tight his chest is squeezing his heart, it feels like in a split moment his insides will collapse onto themselves, capturing him in this meat cage. He has to remind himself that he’s not doing it for himself, he’s doing it for you, only for you. Kyle has to let his thoughts travel to your voice, to the way your nose scrunched when you laughed, to the frown between your brows when you slept in his arms just so he doesn’t go mad. Stares from decomposing, milky white eyes with yellows, blues, and reds here and there felt like stabs right through him, each could be the last if he gave himself away.

He could be grabbed by any of the half-rotten hands with sickly yellowish bones sticking out like spears of the cavemen, bitten, dragged away, or devoured. But he pressed on through the seemingly endless crowd of the undead. He would be lying if he said it didn’t affect him. That abandoned motor inn was like a beacon right now, but his imagination still ran wild, his hope growing more and more dim with each minute spent away from you. He didn’t feel like any hero. Kyle was scared. Mostly for you, but he could feel the tremble in his knees at the mere thought of any undead in the crowd recognizing him as an impostor. If that happens, he won’t be able to mutter even a single word. Rotten fingers will dig into his flesh, tearing it apart and Kyle will meet his end like this, on the damp ground, abandoned and scared out of his damn mind.

When Kyle pressed himself against the closed door of the motor inn, he finally could breathe in again. It wasn’t the time for a break, however. He still needed to find you. He wanders through the dusty, ransacked rooms in a daze, fixated on finding any traces you left, noticing the old rusty car in passing. The getaway plan. If the two of you are lucky enough. Footprints in the dust. They look new, and similar to the ones on the soles of your old boots. He follows. Your thin blanket lies forgotten on the stairs. Kyle practically flies up to the second floor, picking up the blanket, while he’s at it. More footprints in the dust, door to some old office is left ajar.

First, you felt the smell. Then you heard him cry out your name in surprise. And then you finally saw Kyle. He’s a blur of red, black, and brown. Covered head to toe with blood, guts, rotting flesh, and dirt, you presume. A sad, heartbreaking sight. Kyle, however, doesn’t mind it and immediately runs towards you, falling on the floor with a loud thud, and you’re sure he might’ve scraped his knees with how hard he landed. His arms cage you in a tight hug and you hear him let out a shaky exhale. Tears start to sting your eyes when you feel him pressing your head into his shoulder, stroking you with a gentle motion. You weren’t sure if he was trying to comfort you or reassure himself that you’re real, and not a fragment of his imagination. Regardless, you manage to reciprocate the hug, raising one of your arms and wrapping it around his back.

All of these days you saved up your energy for the last push. You needed to get away from him. You couldn’t trust yourself to remain near Kyle anymore. Any moment you could turn. You felt it in the way your bones ached with every gust of wind, how your blood boiled under your veins and your vision turned even more blurry. And in that case, you’d be a threat to Kyle, possibly getting him at his most vulnerable. It didn’t matter that you’d be long gone by then, you would still never forgive yourself if there was any possibility of it happening. Because, deep down you knew. No matter how skilled and ruthless Kyle was with handling the undead…he didn’t have it in him to bash your head in. So, you only had one choice to ensure his safety.

Yet he finds you. Here. You could feel your cheeks burn from being so angry at him, for his lack of acceptance that you were on the brink, and all it would take for you right now to fall into the abyss would be a light gust of wind or a slight shove. But you couldn’t blame him. You thought a lot about what you would do if the roles were reversed. The scenario brewed in your mind, haunting those short hours you were awake and trapping you in restless dreams.

You would want to live in illusion too.

“There you are.” You could practically feel something inside of you crack when you catch his smile beaming at you. Kyle just went to hell and back to get to you. And he still finds it in himself to smile at you, wrapping the blanket around your shoulders with hurried, but soothing movements. You were so weakened by the bite that you couldn’t even find any strength to go down the stairs and get the blanket when you dropped it. Humiliating. “Come on, we have to go, now, we can’t stay here.” He tries to scoop you up in a warm hug again, but you dig your heels into the ground. “Are you alright? Are you hurt?” he looks at you again, trying to catch what is wrong,

“No.” Kyle looks you over, eyes open wide, expression of confusion and sadness on his face. Of course, he doesn’t understand.

“You don’t…have anything on you. Then how, how did you even…” You didn’t have any grime on you at all, looking like you just walked through the herd of the undead without any preparation. But then his eyes trail lower and he sees it. Your left hand, cuffed to the rusty radiator. Suddenly the wave of terror cuts through him, like a fine, thin string through a block of fresh clay.

You came here to die.

“They stop paying attention to you once you’re far along enough. So…I guess that’s it.” He hated you for saying that. God, he hated you so much, he wanted to cling onto your body and suffocate you, arms wrapped around you in weak, pathetic attempts to shield you from any harm. “I…I don’t have any time left.” Kyle felt like he got punched in the gut. Air squeezed out of his lungs, wheezing in pain that he felt for you, because of you, chest aching, tearing apart, and baring his heart under the cage made of bones.

“No. No, no, no, no, you can’t say that! Why are you saying that?” And for the first time, since Kyle saw the bloodied, ragged teeth marks on your flesh, he broke down into minuscule, fragile pieces right in front of you. His voice trembled, frantic and exerted, refusing to believe you even dared to make peace with the inevitable. He grabs your shoulders firmly and his fingers dig into you so hard he can feel how cold you are through your clothes.

Key. He has to release you from the handcuffs. The herd was here, the way the floor vibrated under his feet, and the way gargled moans and sighs echoed outside made Kyle even more agitated. Where did you get those handcuffs anyway? It only takes a moment for him to remember. One of the supply runs that feels like a lifetime ago. Police station. Searching the bodies, or rather, what was left of them, for anything useful. You take out the handcuffs and show them to Kyle, telling him some kind of joke. He can’t remember what it was or the way you smiled, only that you made him laugh.

He wished instead of quiet rasping he could hear your laugh again.

“Where is the key from the handcuffs, where did you put it?” Kyle jumped to his feet and started looking over the room in a hurry, suffocated by the fear of losing you. He was wishing, hoping that you would show him where you hid the key, somewhere, anywhere, Kyle needed to throw you on his back and run right this moment.

“Fuck, listen to me, listen. To me.” you tried to snap him out of his delirium, with your harsh tone, freezing palms digging the bloodstains Kyle left on your blanket “You know what you have to do.” He shook his head wildly, looking at you like were mad for even suggesting something like this. “I don’t want to become one of them! You have to make sure I won’t come back.”

“Have you lost your damn mind?! I-” Kyle didn’t understand you. How can you say, make a request like this? Something was fundamentally wrong and the bite, the illness were to blame.

“Have you?” you interrupted, pouring all of your strength into this yelling match. You didn’t care anymore. You felt your fingers going numb, black, inky spots dancing on the edges of your vision, taunting you in their vicious dance macabre. You did not have time for his lame excuses and whatever it was he was trying to be right now. “I’m asking you one thing, and you can’t even do that! What the fuck is wrong with you?!” You couldn’t feel the way tears burned your cheeks.

“Listen to me, please! I’m not putting a bullet in your head; do I look like a fucking murderer to you?” Kyle pinches his brow in frustration, not even able to look at you right now. Every single suggestion and comment from you stings, fucking hurts and tears him open once again. Because you’re talking nonsense. Absolute bullshit. And you don’t even realize it, he thinks, blinded by your sudden chase after death.

“I’m fucking dying and you’re worried about not being a murderer? Are you being fucking serious right now?” You couldn’t believe your ears, quite frankly. It was the only thing that you had asked of him. The only thing that you wanted. To be finally released. You couldn’t bear it anymore. Your body working against you, living with the constant threat of turning any second, massacring and desecrating Kyle’s corpse as a bloodthirsty, disgusting creature, that will have your face, your body, your hands, and your voice, but not anything that makes you – you. No memories. No love. No inner strength and compassion. Just hunger and urge to slaughter, destroy, and ravage everything in your sight.

“You know that’s not what I meant! Why are you doing this right now?” Kyle felt like he was about to collapse into himself from despair. He couldn’t just do what you were suggesting. And you knew it, yet you chose to ignore it and refuse any acceptance? You always listened to him, even if you didn’t quite agree. You always were patient with him. What’s gotten into you now, what happened?

You don’t have any more time. That’s what happened.

“Oh, so I run away, trying to keep you safe so you live another day and see another one of these stupid sunrises, cuff myself here just so I don’t harm anyone and you can’t even do what I’m asking you to?!” Your voice rises to a volume you didn’t even know you had in you right now, after dragging yourself through the imitation of your former life for a little less than a week. To think your suffering so far lasted less than a week, yet you were ready to end it all right this moment.

Because you could feel it in your bones. You were close.

“Well, tell me, what’s the point of me living if you’re dead?!” You can hear the way his voice breaks in the end. Desperate. Pleading.

The silence rings in your ears with how loud it is.

“I’m sorry.” You croak at him after a short while, eyes trained on the dirty floor. Kyle chuckles, the sound that you love so much, but then it’s followed by a muffled sob. He kneels in front of you once again and your eyes rise to meet his. You can’t help but think that he looks even more beautiful covered in rotting guts, with his eyes full of light and love for a doomed failure like you.

It’s almost impossible to breathe from how hard your heart aches. God, you love him so much. You want to take all the pain from him with you, into the vile, putrid abyss. Kyle takes your hands in his. You’re terrifyingly cold. And he’s too warm. You feel tears rising to your eyes, prickling at them, as you fail at your attempts not to break down right now.

“I can’t stay mad at you when you make that face.” Kyle says with a small laugh that breaks into dry sobs, as his shoulders shudder violently with every single one, before he clings onto you, seeking comfort and reassurance, that you’ll be here. With him.

His embrace feels suffocating. It’s so tight you think any more pressure from him will break your bones into yellowish sharp daggers and fine dust. And you’d forgive Kyle if that happened. You’d forgive him for anything, quite frankly. Funny, how now you have the answer to what you would do if he was the one turning. You’d let him devour you wholly, in the ultimate show of love. You’d let him bite into you, whatever he wanted – neck, arm, a leg, he could have. You’d lay in the pool of your blood, muffling your pained cries by stuffing that worn blanket into your mouth. You’d slowly slip away into oblivion, letting your undead beloved gnaw on your bones and taste the love that would seep out of your flesh. You would probably turn a lot faster if that happened too. And then you’d be together for eternity. You knew Kyle always wanted you two to be together. Both in life and in death.

“I’ll wait for you. I promise.” You barely manage to squeeze a smile out of yourself to comfort Kyle, feeling your strength leaving you. Succumbing to the weakness that spread a dull ache over your body, to that festering rot inside of you, that was finally overtaking. You felt cold, thin digits of terror sink right through your chest, sweat prickling once again on your forehead and temples. There was no use clinging unto something that was unsalvageable. Your body and your mind were beyond repair. You knew it. Only he kept you here.

“Please…don’t leave me.” Kyle couldn’t feel anything besides the pain and hot needles jabbing his eyes. Your touch almost felt unreal, how weak, subtle it was. He tore away from you only for a moment, bloody palms cupping your face. His lips pressed against yours in a quick, feverish kiss, and even more pecks like this followed – to your forehead, eyelids, corners of your mouth, and nose. As if this would save you from inevitably losing the remains of your strength. As if you weren’t clinging to your last seconds with him as it is. “Please…please.” He whispered against your skin. His tears glittered like gemstones in the dim glow of the sunset. Kyle looked so beautiful like this. Yours.

He missed the moment when he stopped feeling short, warm breaths on his neck and your body started to get cooler to the touch. But he wasn’t ready to let you go just yet. A little more time, that’s all he needed. So, he lays your head across his lap, carefully, gently. Like he’s trying not to wake you up from a peaceful dream about places far better than this world. Kyle desperately tries to find that strength to make sure you won’t come back, to grant your last wish, but he just…he can’t. Now when you were right here, beside him, getting your well-deserved rest.

But you started stirring back to life unexpectedly, and just when Kyle wanted to say something, he realized, that it wasn’t quite you. The glazed-over eyes with a milky white cloud over them looked right through him, the blood that was dripping down from your nose, ears, eyes, and mouth after your brain finally shut off from the illness. The strained rasp, full of pain and hands that started grabbing and clawing at Kyle with crooked fingers, contorted into bizarre figures.

Kyle’s heart leaped down to his feet again in fear and he forced himself to push away your undead form, reaching out to him, pleading for something he no longer understood, as he crawled away, still facing whatever you turned into. If his heart wasn’t pumping blood through his body as fast he would’ve felt the small cuts from scraping his hands on the dirty floor. But his eyes were on what was left of you.

There were no traces of what he was searching for in this hollow shell, stolen from his love, stolen from you. Crimson trickling down from the mouth, the creature in your shape bares its bloody teeth and lets out a gargled moan, stretching the trembling hand towards him, demanding flesh, demanding sacrifice. And in Kyle’s mind, this isn’t you. This just can’t be. Absolutely not.

Kyle thought about the way you held him in your arms, while he gripped his shoulders in a tight hug. He thought of the way your thumb brushed over his knuckles. His thoughts traveled to the distant past, when you met him years ago in that summer camp, even before the world started rotting, only to be reborn a sick copy of itself. He remembered your smile when you sat near countless bonfires. The way fire played in your eyes. Your old leather jacket, the tent in your old survivor camp, the older man with mutton chops.

It wasn’t long before a bullet was between his fingers, being drilled by his sharp eyes. Kyle sat there, silent, eyes trained on the gun in his hand, unable to even look at your cuffed undead. Contemplating. Letting his mind stir around, thoughts sticking to the inside of his skull, brewing and bubbling there, like heavy resin. Kyle’s heart sent waves of dull, ringing ache all over his body. His eyes were on fire, burning and raw from tears.

Nothing made sense anymore. Kyle’s endless search through his mind landed on another memory again. Survivor camp in the forest. Ring of mountains to the west. A woman with dark, brown eyes and a shaved head.

“Turning is not the end. They still harbor the memories of their former selves. They’re just prisoners in their own bodies. I know that it’s not the end for them, it can’t be.”

Right now, Kyle would’ve clung to any lie that would explain to him your state. He would’ve believed any tale. You can’t just be gone in an instant, just shedding all that made you yourself like a snake sheds its skin, or a bird picks out the old feathers. How could he ever accept that you were gone, like a puff of smoke on the wind, leaving no visible trace, only the gaping, bloody hole in his heart and years’ worth of memories in his head?

All he ever wanted was to be with you. In life and death.

A minute passes. Another one follows.

A single gunshot echoes through the valley, drowned out by the rumble of the herd.

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0v3rcast · 11 months

Text

Gnaw (5)

You drift in infinity, if only for a moment, in a place devoid of feeling. There is no heat or cold, no light or darkness, no life, no death. There is an overwhelming absence.

Hello, my maker, Says a voice into your ear.

Warm hands tug at your sleeve and turn you in place.

You make eye contact with a woman in perhaps her early twenties, wearing a simple black dress. She's somehow standing on the nothingness as if it's solid ground.

She gives you a smile.

I wish we'd have had any other way to meet. You a corpse, myself a stranger.

I am Nil. The Abyss Made Manifest. The first of your children. I'm sure you have no recollection of me from the... simulation of Teyvat. Genshin Impact, I believe they called it?

You nod, not quite sure what to say.

...or even if you can say anything, because this place probably doesn't have a way for your voice to travel.

She smiles, giving you a strangely abashed look.

Sorry. I'm not used to guests. Or anyone other than my children, the Abyssals. If I'd known you'd be coming, I'd have made you a chair or something.

You shrug. At this point, you'll settle for her not trying to maim you.

Which, in hindsight, is kind of pathetic to settle for.

She offers a hand. You take it, and she pulls you close for a brief hug before somehow sitting you down on a solid plane of nothingness, your legs dangling off the edge like you're both sitting on a pier.

I can't give you much help from here, and your body is much too feeble to sustain abyssal energies, but I've been putting you back together every time you die.

I know it hurts, and I know you probably don't want to be here if all it means is being miserable, but...

They know not what they do. To them, you're someone wearing their creator's face. And that's not a valid excuse for murder, but they're blind to the truth.

You don't understand. It's probably written all over your face, based on the sad, sympathetic look she gives you.

There's another you. Sort of. An unstable clone. Some alchemist made them when Khaenri'ah existed. They had been attempting to summon you and bind your soul to an immortal body so you could guide Teyvat as you did before. They managed to only summon a copy of your essence.

The elements and Celestia annihilated Khaenri'ah for playing with forces they had no right to control, and I devoured most of the survivors for supporting someone that was trying to pull you away from your rest.

You have many questions. And no way to ask them. She catches on.

Oh! Also, you can just talk in your head and I'll hear it. It's not quite telepathy, but you and I are closer than the elements are to you, since I was the first.

You ask why the people of Teyvat didn't kill them, or why the elements couldn't.

You didn't want us interfering with the world so directly. That's why you gave my siblings the ability to grant Visions and the Gnosis. So they could still shape the world and watch over the souls they cared for.

You didn't want them to rule Teyvat, or to terrorize it, so you set some limitations on them.

Let's just say vaporizing an entire civilization was the kind of thing that caused backlash, massively draining them. They've spent all the time since then regaining their strength.

As for the mortals, they were just happy to have who they thought was you back.

You ask what the past you was like.

I can't tell you that. You'll remember on your own time.

You tell her that's not helpful, and also kind of a dick move to get your hopes up like that. She giggles.

This you is much more feisty. I like that.

You ask for any advice she can give you, because you're pretty lost and more or less without a clue right now. She perks up a little.

You'll make some friends in Liyue. I promise. Not everyone on Teyvat is hostile.

She looks away awkwardly.

Just, um. Most of them. Sorry. And I can't tell you who.

You sigh. At least there's a chance for someone to not immediately murder you.

Our time is up for now. I'm sorry. The waking world calls for you.

You tell her that the two of you will meet again and give her a wink. She laughs.

(Her warm, bright laughter follows you up to the world above.)

You wake with a terrible pain in the neck, and a golden band around your throat where you were decapitated.

You're more than a bit pissed about having your head chopped off because of someone else that's wearing your face.

A shitty copy at that.

You hope you'll meet one of those friends you were promised soon, because right now there's very little attachment to Teyvat as a whole.

(You meet your new friend not even three minutes later when she trips over your prone form and drops all her herbs.)

You awkwardly stare at Qiqi, who stares back at you with a mildly perplexed look.

"You... are not familiar," she says, tilting her head slightly as if she was a curious puppy. "But you seem nice."

"I'd hope I seem nice. You're the first person to not immediately try and kill me." You say, defensively.

You think she looks concerned, but reading her face is... well, difficult. Since she's an undead and all.

She offers a hand to you, and with her help, you get back on your feet.

"Thanks, Qiqi," you say, and then immediately have an 'oh shit' because she hasn't even fucking introduced herself.

"Have we met?" She asks.

"Nope. You're just famous where I'm from," you hastily explain. "Lots of people like you and want to be your friend."

She seems to consider it, but about halfway through she forgets and stops caring.

"Do you want me to help you pick up your herbs?" You offer.

She nods.

Qiqi delicately retrieves the various plants that were in her basket, and you point out any she misses.

"Are you from Liyue?"

"No, I'm just passing through."

"...ah."

You have a sudden alarm ringing in the back of your head and hit the grass, grabbing Qiqi and yanking her down with you.

You give her a small smile. She smiles back and then seems surprised she can. Then her smile widens slightly as she smiles for the sake of smiling, too.

"I like you," she says simply, with all the confidence of a child zombie. "Would you like to be friends?"

"I'd like that." You say genuinely. "I don't have a lot of those here."

"Then we're friends," Qiqi says with all seriousness before pulling out a notebook. "I will write your name down so I always remember you are my friend."

An arrow covered in icy mist whizzes just barely over your head and explodes several yards away, freezing a large circle of grass.

"Fuck!" You hiss, looking up to see Ganyu in the distance.

The look on her face is nothing short of barely concealed hatred. Her face is nearly expressionless, but there's open aggression and hostility in her eyes.

If looks could kill, you'd be a smoking crater.

"Go, Qiqi," you urge gently, nudging the jiangshi in the back.

She may be a zombie child, but she is no fool, very clearly understanding what's about to occur.

She quickly makes herself scarce.

As soon as she's out of the way, your gift spins to life, and your hands crackle with arcs of electro.

Ganyu lets another arrow fly.

You launch towards her, the world slowing to a crawl as you accelerate, her arrow sluggishly spiraling by you.

Right as you're about to be in range with a weapon, she... disengages.

Leaving behind a fucking ice lotus.

A wash of pure cold carves into you, sapping your body heat and leaving you winded.

You manage to roll away from the lotus, but her next arrow gouges into your thigh. You cry out in pain, indigo blood oozing down your leg and staining your pants.

You slam into her shoulder-first with the aid of your gift, the two of you crashing into the dirt and grass with a brutal force that leaves Ganyu wheezing.

Her hands come up to grab your throat, her grip like iron and tighter than a vice.

You briefly claw at her wrists, but the edges of your vision are beginning to darken.

You reach out, grab a horn, and yank.

Snap.

Ganyu wails. Her hands instantly move from your throat as she scrambles back, clutching the bleeding stump of her left horn in one hand. She isn't even paying attention to you anymore, lost in the agony.

You gasp for breath, taking in deep lungfuls of air.

Ganyu doesn't move to re-engage. She seems to be having difficulty staying conscious.

When she stands, her legs are shaking, and her attempt to move in your direction ends with her toppling over.

It's likely her horns have nerves, given their nearness to her human brain, and who knows what kind of function they serve? Do they help her sense which way is upright or help her orientate her body?

Whatever the case, she's down by half and now struggling to keep her balance.

You pretend to throw the horn at her as a distraction tactic, and she scrambles for it, not quite realizing you never let it go.

You flee, the arrow still in your leg and sending bolts of searing agony through you, the Quilin horn clutched tight in your hand.

(You fall asleep beneath a tree, which begins to grow rapidly due to the blood oozing from your now-healed wounds. An Archon approaches your unconscious form.)

When you wake, it's to jeering. You're... on a boat near the Guyun Stone Forest. There's a crowd watching you from the docks and shorelines, spitting insults and calling for your death sentence to be hastened. You can only faintly hear them.

Your limbs are bound in heavy chain and weighted with dense iron locks.

Zhongli glares at you like you're nothing more than a particularly vile insect.

Ganyu keeps fidgeting with the band of gold holding her horn in place now. She seems unsteady on her feet, especially on this boat. She watches you with something between hostility and fear.

Ningguang snarls at you for a moment with raw hatred when you make eye contact, but she swiftly schools her expression into an icy glare.

Keqing doesn't bother to look at you.

Zhongli must not like the look you give them because he steps forward and backhands you so hard you pull something in your neck and lose a tooth.

How dare they do this to you?

Your lip is busted and throbbing with pain. You, in a fit of spite, spit your blood onto his boot.

You're swiftly tossed into the sea and immediately begin to drown.

Before the darkness can claim you, several stone spears pierce your torso and limbs and make you sink to the seafloor as if the stone was lead instead.

You are so very cold.

(The sea goes as still and flat as a sheet of glass.)

Your eyes open in the lightless depths of the ocean.

Before you lies an ancient, imprisoned serpent - Osial, the Overlord of the Vortex.

You lay next to one of his heads. A single massive eye is trained on you.

"...my creator?" He asks, hesitant. "Why - no, how - are you down here?"

"Morax."

His eyes narrow in anger. "Wretched lizard. Had I my freedom, I would skin him alive and offer his carcass as tribute to you."

You breathe out a sigh through the gills you didn't have before.

"I wouldn't stop you at this point." You murmur bitterly.

(You and Osial lay there in the darkness of the sea together, side by side, prisoners of the same Archon.)

((Taglist:

@the-dumber-scaramouche @thatdeadaquarius @ssak-i @imyme20 @fried-lotud @acacla @itz-luna @iruiji @crierofirony @itsredactedlove @sweetsthetik @leafanonsforest @oxyotl @kkazuyass @featuredtofu @resident-cryptid @d4y-dr3am3r @crimson-ashes @red1sg0n3 @the-real-fandom-person @code-roevember @yourlocalsourwolf @rhoswen-drake @minimari415 @reversearrowhead @call-me-shroom @evqnescents @valeriele3 @mochicurls21

#genshin sagau #sagau cult au #sagau gnaw #its me #ya gremlin #here with more subpar bullshit #osial makes a guest appearance #(laughs in drowning liyue)#reader has a terrible time #you made a friend though #hopefully one of you likes this

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peachydarlingz · 4 months

Text

-Memories of you- Finnick Odair

headers @attxnt and @plutism

Warnings: Major angst, implied character deaths.

Pairing: Finnick odair x f! reader

We were growing old together, of course we were dying.

We found time to talk about it, the sensitive stuff; And it always brought us closer.

Back in our twenties, we might’ve avoided the topic, finding time to ignore and argue about it instead. But when you’re old, wise and your days are spent mindlessly rocking back and forth holding hands, things become simpler, easier. Those harder conversations seem to flow naturally.

“Finn, when I die, can you hold my hand until I get to the other side?”

“How do you know I won’t go first?” Theres a jest in my voice, but I know she’s serious. Her health has been declining more and more recently. I just smile and squeeze her hand. “Of course, my blossom.”

And what a privilege it was to grow old by her side. After everything we had been through together, it was everything I wanted and more.

In my old age, years after my love died, I was often asked the question, “Will you remarry?” and I would always laugh, and it would always catch them off guard. But that’s a funny question to me; I couldn’t help but laugh, because when you’ve had everything, why would you want anything else?

But I loved that question too, because every time they’d ask, I get to talk about you.

“I remember how she could notice an arthritis flare up from the shift in the air, she knew me so well. It’s so rare that you’re connected with someone. So connected, that you can breathe their air and know what they’re feeling, exactly what they’re saying...” there’s a long pause.

“Anyways, when she would notice a flare up, she was always right by my side with a heating pad and a massage. “And I catch myself remembering what once was. “Someone who once soothed the deep pain she knew she could not heal… but would do anything to calm it. Any remedy or potion, because that’s love.” and those sentiments in our old life, and that silly question reminds me of a new memory my mind threatens to forget. but I know deep down, she is the last thing I’ll ever forget. That is something I’ll make sure of.

And every time, I am met with the same response to the same stupid question, silence.

I talk to the vision of you in my head, and I’ll often make that poor nurse pull out the photo album again. But I can’t help it, you look so beautiful in our wedding photo; Or the picture of you planting sage in the garden, just for me.

“Every morning when I’d get back from my morning swim, she would always have a fresh cup of sage tea and a hazelnut muffin waiting for me. Even on the days the bakery wasn’t open, and especially the holidays, she made sure to get extra.”

“That’s very sweet Mr. Odair, now let’s take your medicine.” And I’m pulled back into limbo again.

I seem to be rotting more and more after being the last one left. After you died, it seemed that old age and disease got our friends. You’ll be happy to know that the ‘Star-crossed lovers’ from district 12 died together from old age, just like we predicted they would. Suddenly I’m laughing to myself, remembering our conversations of the pair. Both of us agreeing that if one died, the other would soon follow from heartbreak, if they didn’t grow old together.

It seems like every little memory brings me back to her, even when I don’t mean to.

But maybe that’s my feeble mind’s attempt to keep its grasp on you.

I think the only reason I lived so long after you passed is because you’d be mad at me if I didn’t. And I would never want to upset my wife, even if it’s in the afterlife.

But once Johanna faded, it was just me left. Life just seemed a lot duller after that.

You would think being in the games, the war, all the death I’ve been through would make it easier, but somehow, it’s not. Each death just seemed to take more of the life out of me, and now, I’m the last one left. So, I lay here in this cold hospital bed drifting in and out of the labyrinth that is my mind.

From what I can gather when I’m conscious, I’m not doing too great. The doctors say I’ve forgotten how to do everything except drink water and mumble a few words. They say I can’t last long like this. But to be honest, I really don’t care. I just want to see you again.

“Pictures!!”

“Yes, Mr. Odair I’m getting the photo album, I promise.” That poor nurse, I hope she knows it’s appreciated.

When the nurse sits down next to me and starts flipping through the book, I feel grounded again. I’m looking at my favorite picture of you, how could I ever forget that memory?

We were on our honeymoon, and I just remember thinking, ‘Wow, that’s my wife.’. I couldn’t help but snap a quick picture when you weren’t looking. Which, of course you didn’t like, but that’s exactly why I did it, and I’m so glad I did. I really do miss you.

I think the thing I miss the most about you is your smell. There was nothing else like it, because it was just so you. I could never replicate it even if I tried, and I did try.

It was the way she layered the complimenting scents after putting on her lotion. I’ve almost forgotten what it’s like. I crave for the day I get to crossover and embrace that euphoric feeling again.

I’m not scared to die; I’ve been close to death more times than I can count. But in a way, maybe I am scared. I’m scared that I won’t see you again. And maybe I shouldn’t have based my idea of the afterlife on you, but to me everything is based off you. It’s how I keep myself sane. Well, as sane as I can be.

I may not know the date, or really what I even look like in my now bedridden state, but I feel an overwhelming sense of peace and I can’t help but close my eyes and reflect on my life. My body feels heavy, I can truly say I wouldn’t trade my life for the world. The wrinkles on my face remind me of every smile and laugh I experienced and for a moment I’m ethereal.

But I guess I’ve really lost it, because I swear, I can smell the essence of you…

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hobiebrownbrowser · 10 months

Text

🔞Introduction🔞

❤️My name is citrus, I'm 19 and I write mostly SMUT. I have no problem writing SFW but NSFW is mostly my thing. ❤️

Rules and things about me:

🔞I indeed take requests! I've done quite a lot of them already ❤️ Mostly SMUT so. 18+ DNI if your a Minor!🔞

The thing that usually clouds my mind is 'Hobie'❤️. I've had an odd obsession over him for a few weeks now and it's extremely not healthy.

🔞If you are a minor stay clear of my page! I tried to be nice and let you all come through but NO. THAT DEEMED TO MUCH TO ASK. I don't need my posts getting reported any longer. I'm tired of it.🔞

I really only made this account for Hobie Brown but I do others too. It's not common though. ❌❤️ Do not ask me to do a character that is depicted to be a minor you will be ❌BLOCKED.❌

I WILL NOT do anything I am uncomfortable with, let's say for example, selfscest, Extreme violence, Extreme sexual assault, Etc. You get the get go of what I'm saying. ❤️

I LOVE punk. You will never take that away from me even if I died. If I did I'd say I completely fucked myself out. Probably why Hobie was my number 1 reason on here

I got this introduction idea from @quintessencewrites I realized I never really introduced myself.

╰──Hobie Brown smut

Mating Season↓

Summary: Y/N didn't come to the HQ today. Of course Hobie was gonna worry. She'd never miss a day to come see her favorite guitarist. It wasn't like her to disappear on him.

Attention Seeker ↓

Summary: A rainy day on a Friday night.

Aftercare↓

Summary: Hobie secretly loved the way you'd take care of him. Massages a constant get go everytime you're together. ❤️

Waiting Room Quickie↓

Summary: Before a concert Hobie wants to do just more than admire his favorite lady.

Shower sex↓

Summary: You both decided to try something new for a change.

Ride me↓

Summary: Hobie wanted you to ride him.

Sing for me↓

Summary: It was the first time Hobie heard you sing, He wanted to hear more.

Take it slow↓

Summary: After a long discussion, Y/N finally felt the courage to trust Hobie with everything.

Let me take care of you↓

Summary: After a long night all Hobie wanted was you.

Date night↓

Summary: Hobie takes you out on a date, A small skating ring tucked away in the crevice of a tall building inside a pub.

Different Flavors↓

Summary: A small ice cream shop opened a few blocks away.

Trapped in my mind↓

Summary: A certain punk at a sex party caught your eyes. What a shameful excuse.

Don't get caught↓

Summary: Havin' Secretive sex in Miguel's office with Hobie was hella risky.

Make me↓

Summery: Hobie acted like a beat, so Y/N put him in his place.

A Devil In Disguise ↓

Incubus Hobie Brown x FEM!Reader. Do I have to explain?

Such A Tease↓

Summary: Y/N would always tease Hobie until he'd had enough.

Touch me↓

Summary: You wanted to feel more than just Hobie's delightful caresses.

Overstimulation↓

Summary: I mean...It's mild overstimulation.

I'm not jealous↓

Summary: You test Hobie's jealousy and paid the consequences.

Such a brat

Hobie Brown x Bratty F!Reader!🔞 summary → Reader being a bratty lil slut for Hobie❤️

My Princess

Hobie Brown x M!Reader! →🔞 Summary: Hobie picked up on a new nickname.🔞

Be Yourself

Hobie Brown x FTM Reader! → 🔞summary: You hadn't gotten your bottom surgery yet, but all Hobie wanted to do was show you how much he loves you for who you are. 🔞

╰──╮Miguel O'Hara Smut:

Breed me↓

Summary: Miguel had a long double shift tonight.

Midnight remedy ↓

Summary: Miguel fucks you in his favorite position.

Just one bite↓

Summary: The night was just as beautiful as you.

Trust Me↓

Summary: You were pulled into a random dimension, A big buff scary guy taking you to a private interrogation room for "Questioning"

Angst List

Cheating Hobie Brown x FEMReader

Summary: A spider has bit you, The spider was slowly absorbing your life, In a last feeble attempt to survive you harbor your life in a heartless android body.

Part 1 & Part 2

Part 3 & Part 4

Part 5 (END)

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maevearcher · 2 months

Text

Glasses

Please hurry back.

I was turning those three words in my mind over and over again for the last five minutes, ever since my phone buzzed in the middle of my meeting. My private phone, that is, the one that he gave me in case he wanted to reach me. In cases like…..this.

He never used it though, he never texted me, he was typically content to periodically check my location indicator blip on one of the plethora of screens he was glued to. So, what now? What’s wrong?....

I tentatively raise my hand, mortified. “Excuse me…”

“Yes, Miss Archer?” The chairman looks at me over his gold-rimmed glasses.

I clear my throat. “I’m sorry, but I really have to go. It’s an emergency.”

“Can’t it wait for another half an hour until the deposition of the witness is taken in full?”

“I’m truly sorry,” I plead, already fumbling with my things, “it really can’t. Thank you for your understanding…” I add, in an attempt to salvage whatever face I can still hope to preserve here. “Je suis vraiment désolée,” I offer meekly to the witness, who sits there dumbfounded, caught in the cross-fire, “il va falloir reprogrammer le plus tôt possible….”

Please hurry back.

Three little words, like three little ice shards in my heart…or so it feels like, as I jump in the first taxi I can find and give the driver the address of a coffee shop near the hotel, as instructed. Never park directly in front of the hotel, always enter one coffee shop or another similar establishment until the car leaves...but today I have no time to spare for these, even if he clearly had a purpose for insisting upon them. The hell with all these rules, I seethe to myself, furiously biting at my already abused nails.

I hum and nod absent-mindedly to the driver’s feeble, but commendable attempts at small talk, which gradually die down in the absence of any feedback, apart from my constant urging to go faster. Not that the silence that ensued is much better than the previous semi-friendly chatter – it allows me too much opportunity to think. To think of all the horrible ways in which I could lose him, of all the dreadful scenarios in which I would arrive too late, and he’d be….

As soon as he pulls over, I stumble out of the barely stationary car, my knees skidding harsly against the sidewalk. I only allow myself one second to inspect the bloody mess I thought I’d never see again past the age of 5, and I hiss in pain as I force myself to walk at a normal, albeit rapid pace towards the coffee shop. Thankfully, I never make it to the door – the taxi takes off, melting into the heavy metropolitan traffic.

Please hurry back.

I want to run, to fly – the few hundred meters to the hotel seem like an eternity away, time whooshing past me as I move too. damn. slow through the sea of unbothered, oblivious faces. Once inside, the concierge shoots me an alarmed glance, taking in my less-than-put-together demeanor and my new ‘bloody knees’ fashion statement, but he has the sense to keep silent – he knows me well enough.

Moments later, heart pounding achingly against my ribs, I hurricane through the door of the suite, expecting fifty shades of catastrophe to unfold.

“L? You here?”

No answer. Oh my god, what if I’m too late?!....

But no. He’s in the main room, sitting quietly in the dark in his usual chair, his eyes for once not glued to the monitors. In fact….is he sleeping?....

“L?...” I approach him quietly. “Are you alright? Did anything….”

He frowns, gripping his knee with a little more force than usual.

“…you’re here. Good.” He mutters in a hushed tone, not bothering to look up or even open his eyes. “I will need you to listen carefully to the next set of instructions that you’re about to receive…”

I sit down next to him. “L, what’s wrong? What is this about?”

He frowns again, jaw clenching as if he’s in pain. Wait, is he?!

“Please just listen to me,” he breathes. “There’s a file in your partition containing detailed instructions as to transferring the database concerning the case I am currently handling onto a server you need not concern yourself with. You will need a set of codes which I’ve….”

I feel a chill running down my spine and I can’t suppress a shiver. “Please don’t….talk like that. What’s happening to you?...” He doesn’t answer. “Should I call Watari?...”

“Watari is on his way here as we speak,” he finally offers, his eyes still averted. “He is coming to drive me to the hospital….”

“Hospital?!” I kneel down in front of him. “For gods’ sake, L, what’s wrong?!”

“…and I expect my stay there to last over a reasonable period, that is why I need you to transfer the data to….”

“Please stop!” I place my hand over his own and I feel him trembling. “Please talk to me. Why are you….why do you need to go to the hospital?...”

He sighs. “I suppose it won’t do to keep this concealed from you after all…. I arranged for the top neurosurgeon in the country to be present there because…I am fairly convinced I have a brain tumor.”

I feel sick to my stomach. “L, but…why? What makes you think…..” I trail off, as I refuse to let these words touch my lips.

“I’ve been having….these headaches,” he speaks again after a long pause, his voice shaky and small. “Bad ones. Like an iron band tight around my skull. It made it…..difficult to concentrate on the case, or anything much really.”

….It’s true. I do remember seeing him rubbing at his forehead lately…But, oh god, a brain tumor?!...

“…..after a while,my vision gets blurry too….as if…I can’t focus enough as to read the reports I’m sent…” he continues, and my heart breaks to hear the vulnerability in his voice, resembling the fear of a child hoping for a miracle. I tentatively put an arm around his shoulders, and, a moment later, he leans into me with his whole body, his hand gripping my own for any semblance of comfort I can offer him. I can feel my own vision becoming blurry with the bitter tears I feel welling in my eyes, pooling up behind my glasses…

Wait a damned minute…..

“L, where exactly does it hurt?” I ask him, shifting a little so I can see what he’s showing me.

He grimaces. “My forehead, mostly. And behind my eyes…” he sighs, as he brings up a hand to physically illustrate his words. “And before you ask, no, I haven’t taken any medication, that would only mask the symptoms, making harder for the diagnosis to actually be reached in any reasonable int….

I reach up to touch his lips, stopping the torrent of words he’s rationalizing his anxiety behind. Then I move up to caress his forehead, smoothing back the unruly strands of hair shadowing his eyes from the world. With a sigh, he leans against my touch, my cold hands seemingly offering him a shard of relief.

“L…” I softly call out to him. “Have you considered other….possibilities? Other….explanations for these symptoms?...”

“Such as what?” he groans, face still buried in my palms. “There is no other diagnosis that can encompass these manifestations, other than….”

“Other than you needing glasses”, I finish his sentence.

He halts abruptly, the screech in his mental processes almost audible, as he finally opens up his eyes to give me an absolutely horrified look.

“Gla..sses?!” he utters, his voice a shocking two octaves higher from his usual monotonous vocal fry, making me bite the inside of my cheek hard enough to draw blood – don’t laugh, Maeve, I keep myself in check, whatever you do, don’t fucking laugh.

“It’s not that bad, L,” I cannot suppress a smile, as I point to my own rims resting awkwardly on my nose now. “Sure beats having a brain tumor, if I may say so. And….” I lean towards him to whisper in his ear, “you can always get contacts. No one will know.”

He pauses for a whole whopping minute. Then he uncoils to his feet, reaching for the phone with one swift gesture. “Watari, it’s me. No, everything is fine. I just need you to cancel my neurologist appointment and transfer it to ophtalmology instead.” He pauses, as his lips curl into a smirk. “Not a word, Watari. Not a single word, if you please.”

(Write it badly, they say. Well here it is, my first attempt at writing something. Badly. But it's something. Also, inspiration from @gorkloum as for the glasses image)

#l lawliet #death note #l death note #just weird overactive imagination #death note imagination #death note oc #death note l #maevearcher #death note fanfiction

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spinningwebsandtales · 7 months

Text

Imagine D Saving You From A Group Of Vampires

Vampire Hunter D X FemReader

Rating: T+

Warnings: Terror, violence

Word Count: 1k

(A/N:) Thank you for asking for more Vampire Hunter D content @bookwormgamerweeb I've been looking to write more about him but ideas have alluded me until now! I do have a second idea so keep an eye out for it! Until next time happy reading! ~Countess

Everyone told you to get somewhere safe before the night falls. You had heard it through every town you passed through. The vampires stalk the night, make sure you're in the next town before the sun sets, don't get caught out in the desert at sundown, ect ect. You had planned to be in the next town, but life liked to screw you over as your only mode of transportation laid in the sand, unwilling to go anymore and the sun began to fall behind the sandy dunes. You sucked in a breath, trying to calm your trembling form. Your doom seemed to stretch before you as the sun slowly disappeared, leaving you alone in the suffocating dark. The first unholy screech made you duck, trying to cover yourself in a feeble attempt at protection.

Huddling against a rock, trying to keep your back safe. Darkness quickly over took you and no matter how hard you tried, your eyes couldn't penetrate the shadows surrounding you. The warmth of the day quickly left and despite the remaining heat in the rock radiating into your back, the terror was seeping the warmth from your body. You could hear sand rolling down the dunes, quick footsteps echoing through the dark. Your breath began to come in pants no matter how hard you tried to calm your racing heartbeat. Death was coming and it was in the forms of gaping mouths full of fangs glimmering in the waning moonlight.

Surrounded by gleaming red eyes, you closed your eyes ready for the end. You had no weapons that could take down any of the Nobility. You sat there, unable to do anything against them. You felt their presence leaning over you, feel the breath upon your fragile neck. When screams pierced the sky around you. Opening one eye you spotted wooden needles sticking out from your attackers' necks. Scrambling further away you caught a glimpse of a larger shadow making it's way towards you. A gorgeous, black clad man sitting upon a cyborg horse and a longsword strapped to his back. You sucked in a breath, rubbing at your eyes sure that what you were beholding was nothing but an illusion. You couldn't move due to the shock until this mysterious stranger got between you and your attackers who were still struggling to pull the needles from their flesh. He unsheathed the sword taking their heads in one fell swoop. The Nobility gave one last piercing shriek before they finally fell silent. Without a word the stranger offered his hand and you took it with no questions.

Clinging tightly to his back upon his horse, you buried your face into his cape trying to calm your trembling.

"Thank you," your teeth chattered.

He nodded the dull thuds of the cyborg horse's hooves the only sound in the darkness. You didn't know how long you both rode together before he pulled his horse to a stop. Dismounting he helped you from the steed's back and placed you back on your own feet. He didn't release you until he knew you wouldn't fall over. The adrenaline had worn off a long time ago and now all you felt was exhaustion. Your rescuer silently gathered sticks for a small fire and you set about to help him. Moments later there was a small crackling fire before you both. You didn't seem so afraid now with a light penetrating the cold dark. Now you could see the man who saved you even clearer and the moonlight could not do his beauty justice. He caught you staring and you tried to look away quickly.

"Why were you out in the dark," he finally spoke his voice a soothing deep melody.

"My transportation crapped out on me," you replied huddling closer to the fire as the thoughts of those monsters so close to killing you reemerged. "I had no choice."

"Good thing I came across you."

You nodded, hugging your knees to your chest. "I guess I owe you now?"

He waved a hand, refusing to look up from the fire.

"I don't have much money but if you can take me to the next town I can give you what little I have left," you spoke after several silent moments.

"I'll take you. I'm heading there myself so you owe me nothing."

Though he was trying to get a wall to talk, you could tell this stranger wasn't a horrible bloodthirsty man you were used to coming across.

"Thank you," you replied. "What do I call you?"

"D."

You gave him your name, but his looks and demeanor were giving you pause. You had seen so many hunters in your time and none of them were as skilled, powerful, or handsome as this one. You had heard of Nobility having offspring with humans, but it was rare. Was it possible your savior was a Dhampir?

"This may be too personal and you don't have to answer." You swallowed. "Are you a Dhampir?"

He looked away. the only thing that gave him away as nervous was a small twitch of his hands. Humans were cruel to Dhampirs. No matter their disposition. You didn't agree with people such as them, everyone deserved a chance no matter their species. Even some Nobility could cause good things, if they wanted to.

"Yes," he whispered.

You rose from the fire and made your way to his side, before you plopped back down in the sand. You stuck out your hand causing him to glance leerily at your outstretched hand. D finally took it giving it a gentle squeeze.

"It's nice to meet you," you smiled while giving his hand a shake.

Despite rescuing you, you really liked D. How anyone could be cruel to such a man you would never know. And despite the surrounding dangers lurking in the shadows you fell asleep and rested peacefully around the fire. As long as you had D around you felt like nothing could come in front of your goals. D watched you with curiosity, he hadn't met someone like you in a long time and it made him feel refreshed. Maybe there was hope for humanity after all as he felt your skin still tingling on his hand. He kept an eye on the surroundings ready for a new day to come and to see what laid before him.

#Vampire Hunter D X Reader #Vampire Hunter D / Reader #Vampire Hunter D #D #Vampire Hunter D Imagine #Imagine #Not My Gif #My Writing

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starg1rlie · 2 years

Text

𝐈 𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 !!

pairing: scaramouche x gn! reader

genre: angst because i feel like it 💀

xtra !! notes: (UNDER CONSTRUCTION) lowkey wanted to write it for xiao but i can't tell which is more popular, xiao or scaramouche, and then i realized that they're both pretty popular so i opted to go for scaracoochie because i love me some angst with the purple-haired shortie bitch . reader is gender-neutral (they/them pronouns), characters are in middle school (around 13-14) . ps, inspiration is from a whisker away, i just re-watched it and I CRY EVERY SINGLE TIME I SEE THIS SCENE WAHHH ＞︿＜ | (part 2) & (part 3; finale)

IT WAS ALWAYS HIM. HIM AND THAT cold snappy attitude. he was always on your mind. would he like you? would he accept your confession? all these thoughts swam in your head as you tapped the tip of your mechanical pencil against the clean sheet of paper. finally, you twirled your pencil upright in your hand and started scribbling furiously.

by the time you were done, you checked your alarm clock to find that it was almost midnight. crap, you thought. hope i don't wake up late tomorrow.

licking the edge of your envelope, you sealed it and placed it into your mathmatics book and tucked it away into your backpack for tomorrow morning.

⋆★⋆

"gooooood morning, scara!"

scaramouche braced himself, pausing in his tracks as he waited for your attack. it didn't come. he blinked, taken aback as to why today you hadn't decided to tackle him in your (very-much) public display of affection.

"you seriously need to give up on him. he's made it very clear he's not into you," lumine said as the two of you passed by him, bonking you on the head with her bag.

"ow! okay but seriously-" your voice trailed off as you caught him staring. with a huff, he quickly turned his head away from her and waited for the sound of your voice to move farther away from him.

"they really are ultra gaga and eccentric," ajax said, hefting his school bag over his shoulder as he bumped sides with the shorter male."

"just shut up," scaramouche muttered, pushing past him to go up the stairs to their classroom.

by the time he'd got to his seat, he saw you from the corner of his eye, standing at the side, a few desks away from him, clutching onto a pink envelope.

before you or he could say anything, a blue-haired boy came up from behind you and snatched up the envelope from your grasp.

"well, well, well, what do we have here?"

"give it back, kaeya!" you yelled, lunging for it, but missing by an inch and landing on your stomach onto the surface of a desk. lumine also tried to make a grab for it, but he quickly doged it.

"is this a love letter? for scaramouche?" he sighed dramatically, putting a hand over his face. "god, you really don't know when to quit, do you? it's honestly getting real pathetic watching you try and get close to him, when we both, when we all, know he isn't into you."

those words brought out tears in your ears as you tried another feeble attempt at grabbing the letter from his hands. he simply side-stepped and went towards the teacher's desk, waving around the letter.

"i say i read it out-loud for everyone to hear so we can finally be done and over with this!" kaeya declared, smirking triumphantly when several other people cheered him on. you could only watch, eyes glaring hole into his petty gaze. scaramouche could see your shoulders shaking, either with anger or something else, he couldn't tell.

"give it back, you moron! it's not for you!" you said, standing up and going over to the desk. "you have absolutely no right to make fun of my feelings! just who do you think you are?"

kaeya blinked at you, as if taken aback by what you'd said, but nonetheless, he still tore open the envelope and unfolded the letter.

"let's see what we have here, shall we?" you reached for it again but he raised it up high as he skimmed through the letter with his eyes. he laughed when he was finished, staring at you with those annoying blue eyes of his. "oh my, you seriously put your whole heart into this, didn't you? that'll just make it even more pathetic when he rejects you."

"hey, dude, stop, this isn't cool," ajax interrupted from his desk, standing up. kaeya merely ignored him, flattening out the creases in the paper before reading aloud.

"dear scaramouche. you see, all these attacks that i've done on you is to just show how much that i care about you!" kaeya put his hand on his chest for emphasis, batting his eyeslashes at scaramouche, who glared at him before trying to grab the letter from him as well. kaeya dodged, going down the row of desks as he continued reading.

"you think that nobody cares about you, not even your own friends, but i care about you. so, so much." lumine lunged forward, hands outstretched to rip the paper from the boy's hands. he side-stepped again and lumine landed in a pile on the floor.

"i wrote this letter because i wanted to tell you just how much i love you. you and me, we're practically the same! i'm sure we were meant to be."

finally, scaramouche stomped over and tore the letter out of kaeya's hands, shoving past him, his shoulder bumping against the taller male's.

"rejection time! rejection time! rejection ti-!!" kaeya yelped as you shoved the desk he was kneeling in front of, watching it topple over on its side and crush him down to the ground. "ow- ow- help-" he reached a hand up shakily.

"scaramouche, i-" you turned to face him, but this wasn't scaramouche. this wasn't the normal guy you'd seen him as out of everyone' gaze. his back to you, his hands clenched around the letter slightly, the paper crinkling softly as he did so.

"do you have any idea how much you've embarrassed me just now?" he said quietly, eyebrows furrowing in anger. "you didn't even bother considering my feelings, did you? of course not." his fist closed tighter and tighter around the paper.

"i-i'm sorry, i just- you and me, we're a lot alike than you think and- i understand your problems-"

"shut up. shut up, shut up, shut up!" he turned around, his violet eyes now filled with anger and bitterness when they used to be full of serenity and peace. "you will never understand me! you don't even know me!" scaramouche crunched your letter into a ball, squeezing it tigher and tighter in his fist. "everyone just heard that. everyone. i can't believe you did that to me. i really hate pushy people like you." as he said that he uncrinkled the letter and ripped it in half, letting go of the two halves and watching the pieces of paper flutter to the ground. "i hate you. so, so, much."

"w-wha-?"

"didn't you just hear me? i said i hate you!"

a few moments of silence passed, and scaramouche's shoulders, which were shaking with anger, finally relaxed a bit.

"oh. i see then." he turned around to face you, mouth open, most likely ready to yell at you again, but he faltered, eyes widening slightly. you smiled at him, lips quivering as you did so, tears pooling in your eyes. "you hate me that much, huh?"

"y/n, i-" he seemed at a loss of words, which was pretty ironic since he was literally just telling you off a few minutes ago.

"w-well, that's just too bad, isn't it?" you mumbled, mostly to yourself. turning on your heel you slowly staggered down the rows of desks before breaking out the door and running, your shoes slapping loudly against the tile floors.

"y/n! wait up!" lumine ran after you, but not before stomping on kaeya's hand in the process. "die, you idiot!"

scaramouche stared at the doorway of the classroom where you once were standing and then down to the pieces of your letter. from the two halves, he made out three words: i love you!

← taglist form | recommended! ↺ | next part! →

a / n !! - well how bad was that? i legit didn't know how to end this so i just ended it right here before i made this into some television drama 💀 like i said, it was heavily inspried by a whisker away (2020), which i recently re-watched on netflix because i was going through a phase ♪(^∇^*) anyways, it sounds a lot like that scene from the movie, and apologies if it seems like i copied way too much, but i tried...

#scaramouche #scaramouche genshin impact #scaramouche x reader #gn! reader #gender-neutral #genshin impact #genshin #ajax #tartaglia #childe genshin impact #childe #lumine #lumine genshin impact #kaeya alberich #kaeya genshin impact #angst #no comfort #( ﾉﾟｰﾟ)ﾉ leeo writes!

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cowboyemeritus · 1 year

Text

Warmth (Papa III/Reader)

Part 1 of "she let me hit because I died and came back wrong." (18+)

Read on AO3

The series title speaks for itself, but a quick tw for referenced death/decapitation. Stay safe out there, amigos.

“It was cold,” he rasps into the crook of your neck. “Worse than anything I had ever felt before.” For emphasis, Terzo thrusts particularly hard, burying as much of his cock inside you as he can. You keen, eyes prickling with tears yet again.

It’s been a teary kind of day.

You’re sobbing before you can stop yourself, convulsing around Terzo in a way that makes him shudder. The smell of your collective arousal is finally enough to drown out the traces of formaldehyde that linger on his skin, but today’s events weigh heavy on your soul.

“Why- ah.” Dear Asmodeus, he sounds so close already. “Why do you cry, mia cara? Aren’t you happy to see your Papa again?” Ever the gentleman, you know he’s putting on a brave face for you. As if he literally didn’t rise from the grave this morning, head barely sewn on right and voice permanently shot.

“Vocal cords are hard to reattach,” Imperator had said with a shrug. “You’re lucky you can speak at all.”

The memory, and with it, the thought of what they did to him, flashes through your mind. Suddenly, you see Terzo in that glass box, put on display like some sort of antique. The paint had hidden the pallor of death well from the general public, but the imagine of him laying in the morgue will be forever burned into your mind. You remember the magazine, too, and the bottle of rum you and Copia had split after the shoot. A feeble attempt to numb the pain, it had been a miserable failure for both of you.

All you can do is cry harder. With a groan, Terzo stops moving entirely, your fluttering pushing him entirely too close to his orgasm.

“I’m sorry, baby,” you whisper, hot tears streaming down your face. His breath hitches as soon as the words leave your mouth. “I’m so fucking sorry I let them get you.” He shakes his head, ever so slightly rubbing his paints on your cheek. After five years, however, it’s more of a powder, and most of it crumbles onto the sheets.

“My love, please.” His voice breaks. “It wasn’t your fault. I am here now. That is what matters, no?” He’s silent for a long moment, but his body quakes. You hear him sniffle and you know that he’s done for. Carefully, as not to graze the angry, red scar along the circumference of his neck, you cup the back of his head and pull him in as tight as you possibly can.

“I’m sorry,” he breathes, desperately trying to regain his composure. You have no clue why he feels the need. “I-“

“Terz,” you murmur. “It’s okay.” And that’s all it takes. Terzo melts into your embrace, letting out quiet, wheeze-like sobs against your skin. His tears, warm and wet, mix with the dusty face paint and smear all over both of you.

“It was awful,” he chokes out. Your chest tightens, painfully so, at the admission. For a few minutes, the two of you just lay there, crying in each other’s arms.

“I’m still so fucking cold.” And even though you’re sweating, Terzo shivers. He’s been doing it uncontrollably all day, and you instinctively reach down and tug the comforter higher. You’re about to suggest he lay down next to you when he rolls his hips once again, his cock giving an interested twitch. You can’t help but whimper at the sensation. Despite the circumstances, you’ve missed Terzo in more ways than one. Still, he shouldn’t feel obligated to help you chase your pleasure right now.

“Babe-“

“Please, amore,” he gasps. He rises ever so slightly, his forehead coming to rest against yours. “Let me feel your warmth.” The desperation in his voice catches you off guard, and although your eyes sting with fresh tears, you nod.

“Okay,” you whisper. That’s all Terzo needs, capturing your lips in a deep kiss. You press back into him, spurred on by all those years of grief and yearning. Steadily, his pace picks up and the coil in your abdomen, slack only moments ago, begins to tighten again. Terzo eventually pulls away, far enough to take in your puffy, red face. He looks even worse off than you, tears cutting trails through the patches of black and white. In another life, he know he’d be embarrassed to let you see him like this, but to you, he’s as beautiful as ever. With a trembling hand, you reach up to caress his cheek.

“I love you,” is all you can manage between sobs. It breaks something in him. Terzo bites his lip to muffle the sound that wrenches its way out of his throat. Whether it’s a moan or a wail, you can’t tell. Either way, tears continue to run down his face as he fucks into you, dripping onto your skin and combining with yours. As his end approaches, he collapses back onto you. Instead of smothering you, however, the weight of his body is a comfort after so long, and the added sensation of his pelvis grinding against you has you clenching around him.

“Mia tesora.” His breath tickles against your neck, and he sniffles before speaking again. “I missed you terribly, you know. So gentle and- ah, fuck!” He shudders, the head of his cock punching into your sweet spot. It’s enough to have you on the precipice of your climax already. “So warm. You’re so warm around me, bella.” It doesn’t take long before he falls over the edge, dragging you down with him. The world goes white and you swear it feels like the first time again. Moaning and crying out, you hold on to Terzo, afraid he’ll vanish into thin air if you let go.

When the dust settles, he’s still there in your arms. Thank the Dark One. You let out a sigh of relief, your orgasm having finally dried your tears. Terzo trembles, quietly crying into your shoulder. You let him, petting his head in a circular motion. He needs this. And although your heart still aches, you can’t help but smile when his breathing finally evens out. It seems he’s fallen asleep. Good, you think. Coming back from the dead must be tiring.

For a long while, you fight off your own drowsiness. You have been given a great gift; to let a second of it go to waste would be unforgivable. Even so, it has been a long day, full of tears and questions, but lacking answers. You find you’re too exhausted to keep going, and say a quick prayer in the hopes Terzo be there when you wake.

The beating of his heart, in motion again after so long, lulls you to sleep.

#my writing #papa emeritus iii x reader #the band ghost x reader #the band ghost fanfiction #this started off as a joke... i don't think it's a joke anymore

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sotteoks · 1 year

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right here | 🔞

──★ ˙pairing: Hyungwon x Fem!Reader ──★ ˙warnings/contents: MDNI, SMUT, p*rn with just a crumb of a plot, established relationship, boyfriend!Hyungwon, facefucking with lots of spit/drool, fingering, squirting, dirty talk, soft dom!Hyungwon, lowkey sassy sub!reader lmfao, reader plays with hyungwon's nips for like two seconds, sideways sex position for extra intimacy, let's assume reader is on the pill or some other contraceptive because of the creampie finish, . let me know if i missed anything! ⸜ (｡˃ ᵕ ˂) ⸝ ──★ ˙word count: 4.1k ──★ ˙summary: Hyungwon doesn’t expect you to be able celebrate his special day with him but you end up surprising him. ──★ ˙ a/n: this was my first time writing sex in a position other than missionary or doggy so if u couldnt figure out what was going on...here's the reference i was using keke

It’s our body language pillow talk

“Happy birthday Hyungwon!”

The candles on the cake are blown out as Hyungwon sits at the head of table in some fancy restaurant the company booked out, surrounded by his bandmates he’s grown to see as brothers as well as a few close friends and of course, staff members. Even his family had made the trip to celebrate his special day with him. Everything was so well thought out and planned with care so he didn’t have to stress about anything. It was a nice sentiment to just have a day that’s about him and only him after restless weeks spent working. But it wasn’t perfect. There was one thing missing that was hindering Hyungwon’s heart from feeling totally content with today’s events.

You weren’t present to celebrate with him.

Hyungwon should have known better to think that you would seriously miss his birthday. You were way too in love with him to let work get in the way of celebrating his special day if you were able to do something about it. So of course, you worked your ass off during your business trip so you could fly back early and surprise him. Worn out from the long flight and change in timezone, by the time you were done tidying up your shared apartment and decorating it, you were ready to pass out. It felt like you were fighting to keep your eyes open as you did your makeup after getting changed into the new lingerie you purchased on your trip.

You had no idea what time Hyungwon would be returning from his birthday dinner and whether or not they’d go out drinking afterwards. You contemplated texting one of his band members to ask what they were currently doing, but since no one knew you came back early, you didn’t want to risk them somehow spoiling your surprise. There had been one too many occasions where you had planned something for Hyungwon only for one of the boys to blab to him or let it slip that they knew what you were up to. This time, you were adamant on not letting them meddle.

The odds weren’t looking so good as you didn’t know if Hyungwon would be home in ten minutes or two hours. The apartment looked good, you looked great, and sitting around doing nothing but waiting for him was making time seem to slow down to a snail’s crawl. You paced around the apartment as a feeble attempt to keep yourself awake while you waited; which just wore you out even more. Going back into the bedroom, you find one of Hyungwon’s shirts and slip into it to keep yourself warm for the time being; finding comfort in his scent for a minute before returning to the living room to curl up on the couch. Getting into a comfortable position, you rest your eyes for a bit. A tiny nap couldn’t hurt, right?

Somehow, Hyungwon had successfully convinced everyone that drinking until the early hours of the morning was unnecessary to celebrate and he was finally able to go home; lugging all his birthday presents along with him after being dropped off by his manager. Though he spent the day surrounded by most of his loved ones, Hyungwon felt drained after having to put up a front and act like he was fine with the fact you weren’t around. When he unlocks the door to his apartment to reveal your shoes at the entryway that weren’t there when he left earlier, he nearly drops everything he was holding to run into the living room; the door slamming shut behind him in his haste.

The living room is dimly lit with a bunch of white and silver balloons on strings floating in the air with a few stray ones scattered on the floor. Further examining the room, he notices an assortment of gift bags on the coffee table but at the moment Hyungwon isn’t very interested in that. His eyes land on your sleeping figure donning only his shirt. Setting down the gifts he acquired earlier, he tries his best to tip toe over to you so he doesn’t wake you from your slumber. But you were such a light sleeper and Hyungwon was just so...Hyungwon. His coordination is slightly off and he accidentally walks into the coffee table while approaching you, letting out a small yelp of surprise that causes you to stir. Groggily sitting up on the couch, you blink the sleep out of your eyes feeling just a tad disoriented from the short nap. Once your eyes adjusted and you realized Hyungwon was back home, you leapt up from your spot and ran into his arms. He welcomes you into his embrace more than happily, arms wrapping around your waist with naughty hands going to settle on your ass.

“Happy birthday, my love!” You excitedly pepper his face in kisses; giving him a kiss for every year of wisdom and experiences he’s acquired before giving him one extra for good luck.

You start to go on about how Hyungwon should start opening his presents since you had bought him a few things on your trip and you had also noticed the gifts he brought back with him, but the way his lips go to occupy the flesh of your neck makes it hard to think straight. It was almost like clockwork how everytime you and Hyungwon reunited after spending time away from each other, there was no use trying to talk to him until he released all the pent up sexual frustration that accumulated while the two of you were apart. However, the frustration Hyungwon feels today is slightly different due to the fact spent most of his birthday sulking about how it would have been a perfect day if you had been around. Now that you were finally here in his arms, his mind was swimming with all the ways to spend the rest of his birthday with you.

“You know I love you, right?” He mumbles against your skin. “I have every intention of fucking you like I don’t.”

His words make you feel hot all over and it’s enough to get you at the same level of lust he was currently experiencing. Before you let yourself get too carried away, you keep in mind that he’s the birthday boy and today is all about him. Reluctantly pulling back from him, you take Hyungwon’s hand and lead him down the hall to your bedroom and instruct him to sit at the edge of the bed. Getting down on your knees, you settle between his legs and affectionately nuzzle against his inner thigh.

“It’s your birthday, I’m supposed to be the one giving you a treat.” You remind him softly, peeking up at him through your lashes while nimble hands caress the bulge in his pants. “Just sit back and relax for now.”

You feel his cock twitch ever so slightly under your lithe touch before it starts to get more rigid. Once you’re satiated with how hard he is, your hands go to undo the button and fly of his pants then eagerly tug the article of clothing off along with his boxers. With Hyungwon’s cooperation, you get him totally naked and now face the most perfect ratio of length to girth. Your tongue starts to feel heavy in your mouth as you spend a few seconds ogling at your boyfriend’s beautiful cock before taking the base in one of your hands and giving one single lick from his balls to the tip. When you reach the tip, you encase it in your warm mouth, provoking a groan from Hyungwon that only serves as encouragement to you. Your tongue languidly swirls around the bulbous head of his cock, effectively lapping away the single bead of precum that managed to escape. The saline flavor almost invigorates you once it hits your tastebuds and you crave more of it. Hyungwon seems to desire the same thing as his long fingers go to weave themselves into your hair, using it as leverage to get you to take more of his length into your mouth. You had gone down on him more times than you could count and whenever he got a little more rough, it always excited you. But everytime without fail, you would be caught off guard by him hitting the back of your throat.

“You look so cute with your mouth full of my dick.” He muses, one of his hands briefly leaving your hair to fondly pat your cheek which you’re only able to let out a small hum in response to.

While Hyungwon is basking the feel of your hot mouth surrounding his cock, you’re left helplessly drooling around him while he holds you in place; fighting your gag reflex for the sake of his pleasure. Once he’s completely bathed in your saliva he pulls you off of his length, leaving you panting softly as a small stringy bit of your spit keeps you connected to him. Despite being slightly breathless, your mind is so fixated on making Hyungwon feel good you immediately take him back into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as you suck him off with gusto and earn yourself a series of salacious compliments.

“That filthy little mouth is so good,” Hyungwon rasps out as he lets his head fall back in bliss. “Look at me.” He commands.

With your mouth full, eyes glossy, and saliva pooling in your mouth as you peek up at your boyfriend, he thinks you’re the most beautiful like this. You continue to bob your head along his cock, trying your best to not break eye contact but the tears stinging the corner of your eyes each time you take his length down your throat makes the simple task much more difficult than it should be. But you don’t have it in you to stop; you swallow him eagerly but still can’t help but wince when the tip grazes the back of your throat again. A few tears manage to escape the corners of your eyes but it doesn’t phase you as you keep sucking him off. You try your best to slurp up the spit that’s threatening to spill past your lips but it's a futile attempt as Hyungwon grips tight on to your hair and starts bucking into your mouth.

“Oh, baby, you’re drooling everywhere.” Hyungwon comments teasingly despite knowing damn well he was the very reason why you were making such a mess.

At this point, it feels like your jaw is fixed open from having to be open so wide to accommodate him in your mouth. You could endure Hyungwon facefucking you for however long he needed, but the front of your shirt is totally drenched in your own spit and it was getting hard to ignore the discomfort caused by it. Tapping his leg twice with one of your hands, you signal him to relinquish his firm hold on you. Hyungwon quickly pulls you off of his length before releasing his grasp on your hair and looks at you in concern.

“Was I too rough?” He asks, which you respond to with a small laugh as you shake your head ‘no’. You quickly pull off the soaked shirt you were wearing and discard it off to the side; finally revealing the new lingerie you had purchased for this evening. Hyungwon marvels at the sight of you in the light pink sheer lace undergarments that mold so perfectly to your body. You figured he would enjoy this particular set, but you were surprised to see his dick twitching at just the sight of you wearing it.

With the wet piece of fabric out of the way, you’re now comfortable enough to get back to work but before your lips can resume their place on Hyungwon’s length, he grabs you by the wrist and yanks you up to face him. Swiftly pulling you into his lap, his lips go to find your’s, kissing you with such ferocity it creates this almost unbearable ache between your legs. Your body seems to act on its own accord as it tries to get some relief for heat flooding your lower half by pressing your barely clothed cunt against Hyungwon’s stiff cock. The simple contact doesn’t go unnoticed by your boyfriend and he can’t help but grin deviously about how needy you were; it wasn’t a surprise or anything but oh how he loved seeing you get all worked up like this.

When you try to grind against Hyungwon to get more contact to satiate your lust, his hands move to hold your hips stationary which causes to break away from the heated lip lock just so you could pout at him.

“Don’t give me that look.” He chides in a somewhat stern tone that arouses the little butterflies in your stomach and makes them flutter around.

“Or what?” You challenge lightheartedly as your hands explore the milky expanse of his lean torso, your fingers playfully grazing over his rosy nipples. He shivers ever so slightly at the ticklish sensation of you teasing the buds until they had gotten hard but that had not amused Hyungwon as his expression remained steely. “You’re always under me.”

You open your mouth to make another teasing remark only to yelp in surprise as one of Hyungwon’s hands leaves your hip just to come back down and smack your ass with so much force that the mere sound of the action makes you flinch in surprise. You feign being hurt and upset at the rough treatment but Hyungwon knows better. And even if you hadn’t made it clear early on in your relationship that you had a slight masochist streak, your panty clad pussy that was still pressed up against his bare cock would have given you away—he could quite literally feel your arousal soaking through the thin fabric the undergarment was composed of.

The same hand that spanked you migrates between your thighs and pulls the flimsy material to the side before Hyungwon’s long, slender fingers practically glide across your slick lower lips then coat the digits in your nectar.

Easing his middle and ring finger into your weeping hole, he’s met with very little resistance as your pussy eagerly sucks the digits in and clings on to them as he slowly moves them out of you, eliciting a small gasp from you. Hyungwon’s cock can’t help but pulse in excitement as he wants to replace his finger within you so bad, he almost wants to let your smart remark slide. But as the birthday boy, Hyungwon wanted to get the most out of his favorite gift.

You forget about Hyungwon’s other hand that had been anchored on your hip until you feel the pads of his fingers digging into your flesh as a means of holding you in place when you try to move. Almost immediately as a response, the digits that were filling your hole curl in search of your sweet spot, successfully locating it in no time. Another moan pours from your lungs, giving you away and Hyungwon starts pumping his fingers in and out of you; hitting that special spot every time and causing more of those pretty sounds to involuntarily escape you. Your moans and whines mix in with the sounds of your wet, juicy cunt getting fucked by Hyungwon’s oh so lovely fingers. As your inner thighs tremble a bit and you feel the ball of heat in the pit of your stomach rapidly forming just so it could burst, you can’t tell what exactly pushes you to the edge.

Was it Hyungwon teasing you for being so easy to please? Telling you how fun it was to watch you fall apart in mere minutes just because of his fingers. Was it because of how erotic it was to have Hyungwon exercise such control over you even if he was beneath you and caged with your slightly shaky arms? Or perhaps it was a culmination of all those factors arousing you to the point you couldn’t contain yourself.

None of that matters when you orgasm as the consistent stimulation of your g-spot causes a clear stream of liquid to dispel from your lower half; you had not only soaked your panties and Hyungwon’s hand but you also managed to rain on his cock that stood tall, craving attention the whole time his fingers were having all the fun.

“H-ha, fuck.” You pant softly, reeling in the aftermath of such an intense and quick finish. Your body feels like jelly and you no longer have the energy nor will to hold yourself up on all fours.

You let your tired body flop over to the empty space of the bed, whimpering at the feel of Hyungwon’s fingers slipping out of you during the movement.

“Still jet-lagged?” Hyungwon asks you with a gentle smile as he moves to lay on his side to face you, mirroring your current position.

“Mhm.”

You figured that the sex would be on hold for at least a few minutes while you recovered since it was extremely rare for Hyungwon to be on top. He had this fascination that bordered on obsession with watching you needily fuck yourself on his cock and liked giving you the illusion of control until he felt like reminding you who was really in charge. You didn’t have any expectations for what Hyungwon could have wanted for birthday sex but a switch up in your usual dynamic was the last thing you would have guessed.

“Just give me one more minute and I’ll-”

Before you could finish your sentence, Hyungwon shushes you softly and pulls you closer, eliminating the gap between the two of you. Plump lips engage with yours in a languid kiss so intoxicating, you barely even notice Hyungwon lifting your leg and hooking his arm around your thigh before swiping your panties to the side once more with his other hand then easing his cock inside of you. Assisting Hyungwon in the foreign position, your hand goes to support your lifted leg; holding it up as high as you could by the knee while Hyungwon’s grasp moves from your thigh to your ass. A couple adjustments had to be made to make it feel less awkward, but after the two of you are situated you realize that this arrangement satiates your mutual desire to be as close as possible after being apart for so long. Once Hyungwon is assured that you're comfortable, he begins to slowly rock his hips against yours.

Hyungwon’s shallow fucking stimulates a different part of your walls than his fingers had and it has your mind swirling with only thoughts about how good he was making you feel right now. Not having to ride Hyungwon after he had gifted you such a powerful climax made you feel so spoiled, you almost forgot that he was the birthday boy. Carefully timed thrusts paired with the intimacy of seeing your boyfriend’s beautiful face up close has your pussy practically drooling around his cock. It’s quite literally a different change of pace since you were so accustomed to frantically bouncing in his lap or having him pummeling into you from below. Most of his focus is being put toward rough but still deliberate and sharp movements to stimulate the sensitive zones within your silky walls.

“God, you love it like this, don’t you?” He mumbles against your lips, receiving not only an eager nod from you in response but also the feeling of your walls squeezing his cock as confirmation to how much you were enjoying this position.

Despite the fact Hyungwon was putting in half as much effort as usual, you became a total mess before him with minimal exertion on his end. It was truly the sweetest treat to him whether you were aware of it or not. Though even if you were totally drunk on the feeling of his cock, the pretty sounds that left Hyungwon were an obvious indicator of just how much he was enjoying being sheathed in your hot cunt.

One particularly harsh snap of his hips coupled with his lips occupying the flesh of your neck has you crying out in unadulterated bliss. The sensation of Hyungwon’s teeth sinking into your skin as a small punishment for getting too loud makes you clench tightly around him once more.

"Fuck. You feel so good." You pant as that familiar feeling of heat begins to build within you once more but this time seeming to burn brighter and more intensely. “You’re gonna make me cum again.” You barely manage to get out between moans.

Hyungwon pulls away from your neck at the sound of your words just so he can see the light blush warming up your cheeks from using such vulgar language; it was just another one of those things that got him really excited thus fueling him to really give it to you. His fingertips dig into the supple flesh of your ass while his hips rut into yours more aggressively. The whole time his cock keeps moving in and out of you urging you to climax, Hyungwon is lost in his own little world of pleasure; babbling on about how good you feel, how pretty you look when he’s fucking you, and how he can’t wait for you to milk his cock.

Your body feels like it’s doused in fiery lust as that heat from earlier spreads throughout you as your pussy clenches on to Hyungwon’s thick length and your head falls back with a drawn out moan as you cum for the second time this evening.

“You’re such a good girl cumming so hard for me like that.” Hyungwon praises as his movements don’t falter, forcing you to ride out your climax. Your brain barely processes his words in your currently fucked out state so you’re only able to let out a soft moan in response. “Are you gonna let me fill your tight pussy with my cum?” He asks, looking to you mischievously.

For some reason those words get through your hazy mind just fine and it causes your walls to cling around his cock once more. You tiredly nod your head in response but that doesn’t suffice. Even if Hyungwon was literally right there at the edge, he wasn’t finishing until he heard the words come from your mouth.

“Use your words.” He tells you in that same stern tone from earlier as his thrusts slow down but manage to become incredibly deep, making your toes curl every time the tip of his cock brushes your cervix.

“Please...” You start off nervously, trying your best not to squirm around as you start to feel overstimulated. “Cum inside me.”

And with your blessing, Hyungwon lets himself flood your pussy with his seed; the most beautiful sounds leaving him as the weeks worth of cum he had been saving specifically for you finally fills your hole.

Hyungwon carefully slips out of you and you’re finally able to put your leg down after holding it up for so long. Laying back on the bed, he pulls you close and as pure instinct, you curl up on his chest. The sheets are sticky and sweaty, making it hard for you to fall asleep like you had wanted. Before you can even mention cleaning up or changing the bedding to Hyungwon, he speaks up.

“I felt kind of bad for waking you up from your nap so I didn’t wanna over do it. But I was serious about what I said earlier so don’t worry about changing the sheets yet.”

You rack your brain for a bit trying to recall what the hell he was talking about until it finally clicks. You had a long night ahead of you but honestly, being a little sleepy was a small price to pay if it meant you could be close to your lover like this and spend his special day together.

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