#smoke air cleaner

[productstoreview]

#smoke air cleaner #air cleaner #air purifier #air filter #smoke cleaner #smoke cleansing

[corvidcall]

to anyone in the areas impacted by the wildfire smoke, my #1 biggest piece of advice as someone whos been dealing with wildfire smoke in the NW united states for years, is build yourself a Corsi-Rosenthal Cube

they perform as well as expensive HEPA air cleaners, and are comparatively VERY inexpensive. all you need is a box fan, 4 air filters, a piece of cardboard, and some duct tape!!!!

i think it took us maybe a half hour to put ours together, if that, and we replace the filters every 3 months. it's really made a HUGE difference, both when the air quality is bad, but also with our allergies

#anime life

[sensivs]

Consider yourself lucky

heian era sukuna x male reader

A/n: I love glazing sukuna idc what anyone says sukuna is literally so fine and he has done nothing wrong, also i js wanna say ty to @ — mmonikurr for helping me w this :)

Cw: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT : dub-con , belly distortion , two cocks (sukuna) , manhandling , fear play , forced eye contact , begging , reader is stated to have a “feminine figure” but u don’t have to have one if u don’t want one 👍🏽 , praise kink (if u squint hard enough) , mentions of mpreg

Y/n’s eyes fixated on his once beloved clan ‘s home, his breathing came out raggedy and rushed, as if he just ran a marathon.

Who could’ve done such destruction on this big village?

Through the smoke y/n saw a large figure emerge, along with a slightly smaller figure walking beside it. The both of them bared no wounds and actually looked cleaner than ever.

Y/n slowly raised himself from his knees and began steadily walking backwards, keeping his eyes on the two figures who chatted away in front of his burning clan.

Y/n descended into the forest slowly but surely, occasionally making sure his footing was in the correct position. CRACK! Y/n’s face went pale as he realized what he had done.

A stick had perfectly positioned itself below y/n’s foot and snapped in half, causing the big sound. The man wasted no time in running as fast as he could, using the bases of the trees as small boosts as he booked it.

But tonight was not y/n’s night, as he then tripped and fell over an uprooted branch. Fear and adrenaline coursed through y/n’s veins but there was no time to get up, as both the large figure and smaller figure steadily made their way towards the fallen man.

Y/n did nothing but close his eyes and pray to himself that he would be able to survive this night and be able to see another day. The footsteps gradually became closer until they finally stopped by his feet.

“Uraume, check this boy for any injuries” a deep and menacing voice spoke, y/n heard “uraume” hum before being forced onto his knees and having to look into uruame’s red eyes.

Y/n stared into their eyes as they thoroughly checked his face, uruame’s fingers gracefully floated over y/n’s face, taking their time to touch and probe at the man’s face, occasionally rubbing some dirt off of y/n’s face.

“He’s all clear sir” uraume spoke before back to where they once stood. “Good to hear, I don’t want my playthings to be ugly with a face full of scars” the large figure walked towards y/n, their extremely buff and big figure making the smaller male on the ground cower more into the dirt in fear.

“Get up” the bigger male’s voice commanded. Y/n basically jumped to his feet, looking up at the other man’s face with tears in his eyes. “Hm, what a precious boy we have, truly much better looking than all the others” y/n’s cheeks became a sweet pink color as the compliment sunk into his skin.

A pair of large and course hands wrapped themselves around y/n’s waist, causing the male to gasp from the sudden touch. Another pair of hands caressed y/n’s face, “my name is sukuna ryomen , but to you, it ‘s master, got it?” Y/n nodded as soon as sukuna finished his introduction.

“What a feminine body you have.. are you sure you’re not a girl?” Y/n tensed up, “no master.. im no girl..” the smaller male said through trembling lips and in a tiny voice.

Sukuna hummed, “what a shame, I would’ve impregnated you the moment you said you were” y/n ‘s face grew hot with the thought of someone more huger than him rearranging his insides.

“Guess you’ll have to do for now” y/n let out a surprised gasp as he then felt his robe being undone and being swept off his shoulders. The cold air of the night breezed over y/n ‘s exposed skin, making him shiver.

“Aw, want me to warm you up sweet boy?” Sukuna ‘s words were laced with lust and desire, y/n opened his mouth to respond but was then cut off as sukuna ‘s bottom pair of arms lifting him off the ground as if he were nothing.

Y/n and sukuna were now at eye level with each other. Sukuna ‘s four eyes staring deep within the naked man ‘s soul, y/n couldn’t help but avert his gaze away from sukuna ‘s deformed face.

Causing sukuna to get irritated and grab y/n ‘s face with one of his many hands, “look at me, boy, I am your savior, I am your god, so you will treat me as so”.

Y/n could do nothing but whimper and force himself to once again look into sukuna ‘s eyes. “Good boy” ryomen purred, his already cocky smirk growing even more cockier by the second as he looked at y/n’s fearful face.

And just like a god, sukuna dropped y/n back on the forest floor because “mortals have no business being on par with their gods”.

The “god” placed a hand on y/n ‘s head, grabbing a fistful of hair and tugging him more close to his upper inner thigh. “As a servant, you must do everything I say, alright?” Y/n nodded eagerly.

“Hm, that’s what I like to see, now, as your first task for me, you will suck my cock. Got it?” Sukuna watched as y/n shakily nod and reach up to untie his pants lace.

Y/n then grabbed the hem of sukuna’s pants and slowly pulled them down, revealing not only one, but two extremely long and thick cocks. Drool dripped out the corners of y/n ‘s mouth as he stared intently at the two cocks.

Sukuna chuckled, “hasn’t anyone taught you staring is rude?” Y/n blushed and bowed his head, “m-my apologies.. master..” , sukuna chuckled and pulled on y/n ‘s hair. Causing the man to yelp and grab onto sukuna ‘s strong thighs.

Y/n looked up into ryomen ‘s demanding eyes, “well? Get to it slut” , y/n let out a quick ‘yes master!’ Before wrapping his lips around the tip of one of sukuna ‘s cocks while groping the base of the other.

Sukuna groaned as he then moved his hands that were in y/n ‘s hair down to the base of his neck. Y/n licked and slurped on sukuna ‘s big and girthy tip, coating it entirely in saliva.

“Fuck.. go down that shaft, I need to feel my head hit the back of that whorish mouth” y/n did what was asked of him and began to slowly deepthroat sukuna ‘s cock. Gaining a loud and drawn out groan out of sukuna.

Soft and whispered curses leaked out of sukuna ‘s mouth as y/n began to bob his head on sukuna’s cock, making his way down the base.

While y/n worked on sukuna’s top cock, he began to stroke the bottom one at a slow pace, making sure to fondle the balls as well.

“Fuck.. I’m c-cumming.. don’t even try to pull back now, you’re going to take my entire load deep in that slutty throat of yours” and just like that, sukuna came in y/n ‘s mouth, coating his once pink insides a creamy white.

Sukuna ‘s second cock spurted it’s essence onto y/n ‘s bare chest, some dripping down to his abdomen and down his own cock.

Y/n ‘s pushed himself off sukuna ‘s cock with a gasp, coughing up some left over cum that got stuck in his throat. “We’re not done yet boy, get up”.

The cum-covered man got up, his legs trembling as if he were a newly born fawn. Sukuna ‘s bottom arms wrapped themselves around y/n ‘s waist, hoisting him up to where his head laid comfortably between sukuna ‘s pecs.

Sukuna’s hands then slowly slid down towards y/n ‘s ass, taking the two cheeks into his palms. Spreading them out enough to where y/n ‘s hole was visible. Sukuna then took one of his hands off of y/n ‘s ass to perfectly position one of his cocks directly below y/n ‘s hole.

The sound of the combination of a wet cock and a dry hole filled the quiet forest, along with a surprised moan from y/n. Sukuna smirked at y/n ‘s response, but he wanted a more extreme reaction.

A light went off above sukuna ‘s head as an idea popped into his malicious mind. Ryomen thrusted his hips up, making contact with y/n ‘s plush cheeks. Y/n through his head back as he let out a much more pleasurable and loud moan than before, along with that, a string of a certain warm and creamy white substance squirted out of the tip of y/n ‘s cock.

“Cant even handle a single thrust? This isn’t looking good for you boy” sukuna said with a snicker, y/n was about to argue with him but decided to kept his mouth shut. Ryomen slid y/n back up, earning a groan out of him. Sukuna then grabbed his other cock and positioned beside his other cock.

He slid the tip in, causing y/n to dig his face into the crevasse of sukuna ‘s pecs. And with another thrust, ryomen ‘s other cock had successfully entered y/n ‘s already filled hole.

Y/n clawed at sukuna ‘s arms, drawing a bit of blood. The pain that sukuna was suppose to be feeling was replaced with ecstasy and the desire for more. MORE pain, MORE pleasure.

“Ready?” Sukuna asked, but didn’t wait for y/n ‘s response. Sukuna slid y/n up one last time before delivering a powerful thrust into his hole. Y/n cried out, tears forming in his eyes from the thrust of sukuna ‘s hips.

Ryomen continued to deliver harsh and heavy thrusts into y/n ‘s already recked hole, y/n begged for sukuna to stop, but he was already too far gone in pleasure to be able to hear y/n ‘s pleads.

Y/n felt the many veins that drove along sukuna ‘s long and hard cocks, the veins were enough to drive y/n insane as they rubbed against the tight and gummy walls of his insides.

Sukuna ‘s cocks twitched, signaling that he was close to his release. Y/n sobbed as he realized that he would be downgraded to nothing but a cumslut and a cocksleeve for a curse that was way more stronger than him in every way.

“Take my kids into that precious hole of yours slut, maybe then you could actually gain a purpose for something” y/n knew what “purpose” he would gain, he would become a mother to children he could not bare.

With a couple more thrusts, y/n felt sukuna ‘s cocks unload their last gallon of cum into his once pure hole.

Sukuna breathed heavily, trying to catch an ounce of fresh air in the steamy and hot ecosystem him and his new slut had made.

“Consider yourself lucky I didn’t kill you, but now, you must work for me, you’ll worship me and my existence altogether, your nothing without me, your only purpose for me is to be a hole I can put my two cocks in and bare my kids in that stomach of yours” sukuna whispered delicately into y/n ‘s ear. Causing the poor man to shiver and shakily nod.

“Uraume, mind cleaning me and my new toy?”

#sukuna x male reader #sukuna x reader #bottom male reader #sub male reader #𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 — *+:｡.｡ #jjk x male reader #jjk x reader #wait i’m goated #i’m cooking #male reader smut

[sweetercalypso]

What Takes the Edge Off || Joel Miller

Word Count: 2.0k

Summary: Now that Joel is living in Jackson, he’s picked up a few bad habits. When he comes home smelling like cigarettes, you punish him for his choice of vices

Notes: smoking, lap sitting, hair pulling, semi-public sex, grinding over clothes, edging, dom reader, sub(ish) Joel, no reader pronouns; smoking is gross unless you’re hot <3

joel miller masterlist main masterlist

Joel’s problem started with a crushed pack of Camels he’d found just a few short months after settling down in Jackson.

Truthfully, his problem had started when he was nineteen and naïve about the habit he was forming with the hand-rolled cigarettes stashed in his glovebox. They’d belonged to Tommy before Joel had quickly confiscated them with a lengthy lecture about the dangers of smoking.

Tommy was still a kid, but Joel was old enough to choose his own vices.

Everyone in Texas smoked; pipes, cigars, cigarettes – it was all commonplace in the rural heat of the South. Even after the world fell apart, there were plenty of people in QZs willing to trade a week’s worth of ration cards for a single carton of cigarettes, a stale taste of the life they’d left behind.

Joel had been more than happy to meet their demand, only occasionally skimming a few from his and Tess’s supplies. He didn’t crave the relief of nicotine any more than he craved a bottle of old whiskey or a quick, drunken fuck – it was just a way to cope with the life he’d been given.

Living in Jackson is different. The air is cleaner, the streets aren’t littered with soggy cigarette butts, and the weight of Joel’s bad habits has finally caught up to him.

The first pack he found, he’d shared with Tommy. The pair stood outside a crumbling house on their patrol route and chain-smoked what was left in the half-crushed box, reminiscing about the time Tommy stole an imported cigar from their father’s nightstand and had gotten sick from the first puff. Twenty years since they’d seen home, their Southern upbringing still kept them from smoking indoors.

The smell of tobacco had worn off by the time they returned to the city gates, and you were none the wiser about their indulgence. Even when you threw your arms around Joel and buried your face in his chest, you’d greeted him like nothing was out of the ordinary.

A couple days after he’d finished the first pack, Joel realized how much he enjoyed smoking. He found himself missing the bitter taste in his mouth, fingers twitching at his sides like he’s flicking loose ashes from a phantom burning tip.

There’d been a gun in his hand for as long as he could remember, and now that his days are spent in protected leisure, Joel feels like a crucial piece of himself is missing.

He’s constantly searching for the sleek steel of a pistol, the pressure of a trigger responding to his unabating command. The weight of a cigarette balanced between his fingers had eased the grief of being still.

A sealed pack of Marlboro’s was Joel’s next find, left behind on a coffee table in a house just beyond his normal patrol route. His habit had never been routine enough to pick a favorite brand, but the familiar red and white emblem is a welcomed sight, a promise of earthy tobacco and a good, slow burn.

The matchbook in his pocket is a heavy burden on Joel’s conscience as he picks up the cigarettes and quietly slips them into his supply bag. This time, he isn’t sharing with Tommy or anyone else who feels they have a claim over a portion of his findings.

Jackson might be a commune, but just this once, Joel’s nicotine-fueled prerogative trumps his commitment to sacrifice.

He waits until he’s past the city gates to unwrap the crisp plastic and slide the first cigarette out of the pack. It’s nearly midnight when he returns his horse to the stable and begins the short walk home, unlit cigarette dangling between his teeth as he attempts to light a match under the warm embrace of the streetlamps.

The initial thrum of nicotine flooding his lungs is bittersweet, a slight burn that dulls his senses with each deep breath. He walks with his cigarette pulled up to his mouth, the weak orange glow of lit tobacco burning a crude effigy into the shadows of his face.

You’re sitting on the porch when he rounds the corner, lazed in a rocking chair that Joel had built the previous summer – his attempt at adjusting to the slow life.

When he realizes that you’re still awake, he flicks the half-finished cigarette onto the ground and crushes it with the toe of his boot, waving a hand to clear the lazy smoke lingering in the air. He grumbles under his breath and pulls the front of his jacket to his nose to gauge how long it would take the smell of tobacco to fade, but he realizes too late that the sickly-sweet aroma is already woven into the material – still clinging to his breath.

He makes his way up the sidewalk with a guilty look on his face and a hand tucked in his pocket, thumb rubbing soothingly over the side of the cigarette pack as if the feel of the box was enough to bring him relief.

It wasn’t that he expected to be chastised for his nasty habit – you knew better than anyone that Joel preferred to take care of himself. But he distinctly remembers a conversation you’d shared some time ago about old-world vices and your distaste for smoking.

He didn’t think it was worth mentioning his habit at the time; smoking was a luxury he doubted he’d ever have again, so why ruin his image of calloused self-restraint?

The sound of the porch steps creaking under Joel’s boots grabs your attention from whatever book you’d been reading, now abandoned face-down on the arm of the rocking chair as you turn to greet him.

“You’re home,” you drawl, the tired lilt in your voice betraying your content expression.

His chin dips in a bashful acknowledgement, tucked to his chest as he leans down to press a kiss to the side of your face. He still isn’t used to having someone waiting up for him; the thought only adds to the weight of his self-reproach.

“How was patrol?” you ask as Joel pulls away, though your eyes rake over him with another question in mind.

Before he can answer, you reach out and grab the front of his jacket, bringing the material to your nose to confirm what Joel already knew. “You smell like smoke.”

He swallows the sandpaper feeling in his mouth and shrugs. “Got a little cold out tonight, we stopped to make a fire on our way back.”

He cringes internally at his halfhearted attempt at avoiding the matter, but it doesn’t seem to deter you from putting the pieces together anyway.

“No,” you interject, brows pulled together in confusion. “You smell like cigarettes.”

He’s silent for a moment, unable to think of an honest way out of this conversation. “Huh.”

“Joel,” you drawl, standing and wrapping your arms around his shoulders. A teasing grin pulls at the corners of your mouth, a scandalized amusement that makes his cheeks burn. “Have you been smoking?”

Your fingers weave through the dark curls at the nape of his neck, tugging softly until his head rolls back.

His eyes flutter shut and he shudders as he pulls the offending pack from his pocket. “Found ‘em on patrol,” he pants, his free hand gently squeezing your hip. “People leave all sorts of useful things behind when the world’s endin’.”

You offer only a simpering tsk in response, not quite the reaction Joel was expecting.

The night air is silent beyond the quiet lull of Jackson and the floorboards shifting under your feet as you shuffle closer together, sharing an intimate moment in the dim light seeping through the front room windows. Joel’s hands are a firm presence on your waist, separated from your skin by only the thin flannel shirt you’d stolen from his closet. 

Eventually, you pull away, ushering him into the seat you’d abandoned upon his arrival. He drops into the rocking chair with a grunt and drags you into his lap.

“Missed you, baby” he murmurs, admiring the way you fit perfectly into the hollow of his frame, the way you balance yourself overtop him with practiced ease.

He knows he should be more concerned about your indifferent reaction, more worried about the possibility of someone walking by. But his sensibility is swept away by the heave of your chest and the little sound you make when his hand presses against the base of your spine.

Your hips drag slowly over his and for a moment, Joel thinks you’ve forgotten about the cigarettes. Or maybe you won’t mind his indulgence as long as he makes up for it. The warmth of your body pressed against his makes Joel ache for more, ready to offer an apology with more than just his words.

Just as he leans in to press his mouth to yours, you pull away far enough that he misses.

“Ah-” you stop him with a raised hand, fingertips pressed to his pouted lips. “You can kiss me when you don’t smell like cigarettes.”

The warm, hazy feeling is suddenly ripped from the air. Joel’s head jerks back in a look of disbelief, mouth hung open and brows pulled together as if he’d been scorned. “You’re serious?”

“Mhmm,” you nod, running a hand over his chest to soothe his trampled ego. “Can’t stand the smell, baby. You know that.”

The rocking chair dips forward as Joel drops his head onto your shoulder with a groan. “That’s just cruel.”

“It’s not cruel,” you laugh, pushing back the mess of curls falling into his face. “When you come home from patrol, I wanna taste you, not smoke.”

Your hips stir over his once again and Joel swears under his breath. His cock twitches in interest and he begrudgingly accepts the torment of your slow pace. This isn’t the time to take charge and chase his high; he’ll let you take the reins until you decide that he’s forgiven.

He picks his head up to glance around the empty streets, assuring himself that there’s no one here to witness his weak-willed acquiescence.

“I wanna touch you, make you feel good,” you continue, ghosting your fingers over the front of his jeans. “But how can I do that when all I can think about is those nasty cigarettes? Hmm?”

Your hands travel back to his chest, but your hips continue to roll over his, trapping his stiff cock beneath the comfortable pressure of your thighs. His eyes flutter shut once more as he leans back into his seat and lets you have your fun.

It doesn’t take long for Joel to near his end, subtly bucking his own hips to help himself along. He’s right there, right at the edge of his release, knuckles turning white as his grip tightens on the arm rests and—

The weight in his lap is gone, replaced with an empty chill that makes Joel’s hips stutter. His eyes snap open as he struggles to focus in his blissed-out state, but a hand on his shoulder brings him back to reality.

You’re standing in front of him now, no longer providing the friction that’d been fueling the fire in his belly. “Sorry, baby. You don’t get off that easy.”

He groans when you crawl back into his lap and you’re flooded with a sense of empowerment. It shouldn’t feel this good to see Joel suffer. You know it’s not fair to tease him like this, but maybe he deserves a little punishment.

“Maybe if you hadn’t been smoking, I’d let you enjoy this. Let you use your mouth to make me come, let you fuck me the way you want to.”

Joel stays silent, obedient. He swallows around shallow gasps of air that make his chest rise and fall with the labor of his breaths, thighs tensing as he struggles not to chase that feeling dangling just out of reach.

“I could do this all night,” you note, settling your weight in his lap again, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to the corner of his mouth. “And I think you’d let me.”

#joel miller #the last of us #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #joel miller one shot #the last of us smut #the last of us x reader #the last of us fic #tlou #tlou x reader #tlou x y/n #sub!joel #sub!joel miller

[tojipie]

3:30 pt. 2

pt.1

content: dilf toji, slight temp play (?), car blowjob, age gap, fem!reader, slight exhibitionism, lots of teasing

──────────────────────

“is the pistachio flavor even good?”

the older man side eyes you from the drivers seat, taking another bite of the pale green treat in his hand.

the mall parking lot is always quiet just before sunset. you watch as the sky casts soft hues of gold and orange over the corded muscles of his biceps and shoulders.

he’s.. gorgeous you think. even despite the permanent scowl on his face and how comically small the spoon he’s holding is compared to his massive hands.

“what, you wanna try or something?” he asks you, motioning for you to lean towards him.

a large hand settles on the base of your neck as the older man feeds you a spoonful of his ice cream, wiping the corner of your mouth with his thumb as you swallow down the bite.

toji pops the finger into his own mouth, chuckling with low eyes as he sucks the sugar from his skin.

“messy.”

“shut up.”

“you calling me a liar little girl?”

“hell yeah old man.”

you pause for a moment in spite of the butterflies in your chest, pondering the new flavor.

he scoffs as soon as your face screws up with a sour grimace.

better than whatever the fuck you got.” he laughs.

“there’s nothing wrong with black raspberry!” you say with a light shove to his chest. the older man catches your wrist with his own, pulling you towards his body and placing a playful bite to the junction of your neck.

you shiver hard at the contact, fighting the urge to groan at the feeling of his mouth on you. the beginning of a moan is quickly covered up with a laugh as you pull back.

you secretly hope he leaves a mark, teeth shaped indents in soft shades of blue and green you can run your fingers over later.

“fuck, you ok? cold?” he asks with a chuckle, running his warm hands down your sides. you shiver just as hard at the contact, mentally berating your body for giving your thoughts away so openly.

“sensitive huh.” you practically feel the sleazy grin forming on the older man’s, even without seeing it. you’re currently too preoccupied to focus on anything but the clear shape of his hard cock through his denim work pants.

“wanna park somewhere quiet and help this old man out?”

you’re embarrassed at how fast you nod.

˚ ✧ ───────────

an animalistic groan erupts deep from within his chest at the feeling of your freezing cold mouth closing around his tip. toji winds a fist into your hair, guiding you up and down his hot length.

the roof of the dodge still lies open, exposing the two of you to the night air. you’re parked as far back as the lot goes, illuminated by what little light the street lamps cast on the two of you.

the seats of the car are pushed forward, giving you room to work in the back on your knees.

“fucking freak.” he mumbles, letting go of your hair to bring a zippo to the end of the cigarette pinched between his teeth. he tips his head back and blows smoke into the air, groaning at the cocktail of stimuli his body is receiving.

the older man pets your head as though to make up for his harshness, humming at the way you try to take him into your throat. toji attempts to ash his cigarette into the soupy remnants of your dessert, blowing more smoke into the evening air.

you release his tip with a cough, a sparkly line of saliva stretches from his cock to your swollen lips.

“mm don’t.” you tell him, leaning down to mouth at the thick vein that runs up from his base

“hm?” he hums absentmindedly, tucking your hair behind your ear with his free hand. a sharp “fuck” rings out as you start bobbing your head again.

“why’s that baby?”

“use the ashtray.” you tell him sweetly, pressing a chaste kiss to his weeping tip. “cleaner.”

“cleaner huh?” he teases. the older man gathers your hair into a ponytail at the base of your skull, stopping to massage your scalp with deft fingers. he takes a short drag and blows the smoke directly in your face, chuckling at your sour expression.

“wanna take that sweater off for me?” he asks, looking down at you with dark eyes.

you nod, raising your arms as he helps you out of your uniform. you wince at the bite of the night time air on your back, upper half exposed to the world.

toji palms at one of your tits with his hand, pinching your hard nipple through the thin fabric of your bra.

“cute.” he mumbles, fixated on the weight of your breast between his fingers.

“open.” he tells you, grabbing his cock by the base and holding it out for you. you stick out your tongue immediately, arching your back to get a better angle.

he slaps the head of his cock on your tongue twice before reaching for your thighs. the slap that lands just below your ass bounces off of the pavement and rings through the lot.

you take him back into your mouth without being asked, relaxing your throat to accommodate his thick length. the man above you rewards you by flipping up your already tiny skirt, thumbing the lacey fabric that covers your little slit.

“fuck.” he groans, sinking back into his seat and reaching to stroke his length. “fuck, i’m gonna bust.”

you whine at the loss of sensation on your pussy but quickly pull back, silently requesting his release.

“ohhh?” he chuckles darkly. “you want it on your face then? you want my seed on your fucking face?”

you nod with a sickeningly innocent giggle, replacing his hand on his length with your smaller one.

you stroke him to completion, gasping at the milky ropes that flow over your knuckles and down the length of your wrist. toji holds you in place with a hand on your crown and slaps his cock against your face, smearing his release over your lips and cheek.

“say thank you toji.” he tells you, flicking the butt of his cigarette onto the pavement.

“hm’ thank you toji.”

you press a final kiss to his milky tip.

#fushiguro toji #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen toji #toji drabbles #toji fluff #toji fushiguro #toji hcs #toji headcanons #toji x reader #toji zenin #dilf toji #dilf!toji #zenin toji #jjk hcs #toji x fem!reader #jjk toji #toji #jujutsu toji #toji thirst

[3lushkiii]

Soaked nightmare - Sukuna Ryomen x Reader

Synopsis: Ex-boyfriend Sukuna is struggling with your absence, stumbles to your apartment a mess.

—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—

CW: alcohol, self harm, violence, other self-destructive behavior

This is my first ever one-shot! Any constructive criticism is very much appreciated! (P.S: English isn’t my first language, sorry if i use any words with the incorrect meaning!)

—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—

Sukuna has always been a beast. He was rash, impulsive, downright stupid. He still is. He knew that, he was especially aware of it while dating you three years ago.

You were like a wisp of smoke in his hand, disappearing into the air as soon as he had his hands on you. He grabbed you once, clenched his fist tight, and prayed you’d stay.

Sukuna stopped drinking, stoped going to that shitty bar in the worst part of town just to come back home black or blue, or to not come home at all. You’d find him splattered outside your doorstep like a puddle after a few too many whiskeys, mumbling incoherently.

With you Sukuna was different, he’d try his hardest to be quiet, to be calm. He knew you deserved it, deserved a million times more than what that he could give. He enjoyed it while it lasted, how you willingly put your hands on him, how you made him a crazy good omelette sometimes, how you kissed his temple before bed. He wondered why you weren’t scared, why this scarred and tattooed man didn’t make you shake like a leaf in the wind. But he was glad he didn’t.

You knew he could do whatever if he wished, even hurt you, it always lingered in the back of your head, but it never surfaced. Not until that day, in a fit of anger, a petty argument about him disregarding his health, his job, his life—his large palm collided with your cheek. His head got too loud, the thoughts he felt you drowned out only got louder. He knew he fucked up, when he saw the words die on your tongue, when he saw you freeze over in shock. He knew then and there, that he’d forever lost you. He saw the thoughts you’d never considered as possible surface in your mind.

And as you left, he realized he never held that tantalizing wisp of smoke. He just kept his fist closed and assumed it was in his grip. That you were tied to him like he was tied to you—and in an instant, his North Star, his guiding light, left him.

Sukuna doesn’t know how he found himself at your apartment door, absolutely soaked in the rain, droplets trickling down familiar pink strands of hair. He looks down at you, that familiar face, and he almost feels like he can see the red mark on your cheek from years ago. The guilt gnaws at his insides, like a parasitic alien in his gut. And the only way this so called ‘parasite’ would stop tormenting him is with random flings, alcohol, tattoos, and the occasional pain—inflicted either by a random fight he’d start, or by his own means. Anything to dull the pain of the gaping hole your absence left in him.

His gaze was all you needed, you gave a simple nod and stepped aside to allow him into the familiar apartment you owned. Sukuna sat down on the leather couch in your apartment, silent as a mouse. The apartment is clean, cleaner than we he stayed here, filling the place with the scent of cigarettes, throwing around beer bottles galore. His gaze is downturned, and he brushes strands of his hair aside, ignoring the wet footsteps he left on your pristine hardwood floors—he muttered out a “Just for the night.” And you complied.

You grabbed a spare indigo blanket and a pillow, giving them to him quietly. Its still tense, staring at the man you used to hold dear like he’s a stranger. He offers a nod in acknowledgment, scarred hands grabbing the soft blanket and pillow as he lays down, in a familiar apartment, with a person he holds dear, but far out of his reach. That wisp of smoke. That wisp of smoke who let a wretch like Sukuna still stay at their clean apartment after he put his hands on them. He could never forgive himself.

He stares at the ceiling, his soaked clothes sticking to his body like a second skin. He wants to let out a sob, he’s sorry, he’s so very sorry about what he’s done to you. If only he could crawl into your embrace just this once, sleep without those agonizing dreams replaying in his head of the night you left, of the silence in his apartment, of the passing days where he felt all traces of your presence fade. The cleanliness, the smell, the cooking, it was all gone.

He presses the base of his palm over his face, nearly pushing his eyes out on the other side of his head. He even sees those little rainbow flashes of light under his eyelids. He really cant tell when his eyes are open or closed from the dark, except for the sliver of light coming from the crack in your door. You always were like a guiding light, how touché.

He knows it’s wrong, he shouldn’t have snuck into your bed. But he misses you, how he misses your tender kiss, how those compliments and promises at something more slipped from your lips like you were made to say them. He’s just so sorry, sorry for wetting your bed with his clothes, sorry for ever raising a hand to you, for driving you away from him.

“Sorry,” he whispered, his muscular arm is wrapped around your waist, his nose buried in the crook of your neck as he relishes in your warmth. He never forgets what pushing you away did to him. It ruined him, permanently scarred him, literally.

“Sorry.” He mutters once more, noticing your eyes flutter open. He just wants you to let him have this, this one thing. He may just go mad if he’s denied this, if he cant be next to you anymore. God, maybe he already is crazy. He yearns for your simple warmth, this touch, more than the flings, than the passionate embraces with other women. The vile things he’s done in bed with others can never measure up to you. He may never admit how much he years for true intimacy instead of a fleeting touch from a random blond at the bar.

“Sukuna?” Your eyes flutter open, the uncomfortable feeling of water on your neck jolts you awake. Your voice is quiet, holding a twinge of confusion more than any fear. It’s beginning to be hard to fear a man who just seems so… small.

“M’cold, soaked to the fuckin’ bone,” Sukuna’s response is quick, but quiet, the same old rough voice. Its not how it was, yet why does he sound like it is? He’s burried in the crook of your neck, his weight pressed against your body as he lays there. His breath hits your skin, feeling more and more uneven with each breath. “Sorry, i forgot to give you a towel.” You apologize softly, your features contorting into a mix of regret and pity. He doesn’t seem alright, he looks like a wet cat. Sukuna feels pathetic, he knows he looks like a damn puppy on the side of the street. He’s never thrown his pride aside so easily, so quickly for a sliver of the paradise that is your embrace.“Yeah, I’m fucking soaked.” He scoffs, fingers curling around the fabric of your shirt, his tone more harsh than intended. When has he ever been okay in the few years since your split? He can’t remember the last time he was alright without you. It doesn’t really exist.

He’s a hollow husk parading around like a man, filling his life with booze, sex, violence and substances to see if it’ll drown out the voice in his head scorning him for his stupidity. At how he pushed the walking angel he’s laying on out of his life so carelessly, how he had the sheer audacity to think he could lay a hand on you.

He grumbles, the words unable to leave his lips as he nuzzles the column of your throat. His expression almost hard to decipher. Like those paintings where you cant tell if the subject is looking at you or away from you—you cant tell if he’s sad or just numb. “M sorry, fuck—” His voice cracked, breath hitching. He couldn’t cry, monsters like him didn’t have the right to tears. “Just needed ya’.”

“Let’s get you dry, sit down.” You mumble, your voice quiet from being recently woken from your sleep. Sukuna freezes, sitting on the edge of the bed. He’s surprised. Surprised at how easily you command him without even trying. He sits down, looking over at you without a word.

You come back to the room with a towel and some clothes, and he eyes the sweatpants and hoodie carefully. Something seems familiar, but he cant place his finger on it. “You couldn’t sleep?” You ask, standing in front of him, a towel on his head as you dry his hair yourself. Sukuna has never been the best at caring for himself, it always felt better when you did it. He cared for himself most when he was with you, because it made you smile at him, look up at him with that pretty expression. “Nah,” he says dryly, looking down, not a word of protest to his hair being dried like hes a child. Honestly he enjoys it, enjoys feeling your touch. No matter if this pesky towel is in the way.

He holds the fresh clothes in his hands, looking down as he comes to a realization. Thats his hoodie, these clothes are all his. The cigarette burns carefully etched into the black cotton, the fading grafic of a band he knows you don’t like on the front. He wondered where this hoodie went, he thought he’d just lost it. But you kept it, you kept his hoodie after all this. It just makes him feel like a monster.

He curses himself for hoping it brought you comfort, he curses himself for even daring to think you were comforted by a little remanent of him in your life. He should assume you kept his hoodie in a box under your bed, collecting dust. But when he’s hit with the sweet scent of you from the hoodie, his assumptions are proven right. You wore the damn thing, your familiar smell is woven into the fibers of the hoodie. He wished he could weave you into the fibers of himself, he could laugh at himself for envying a hoodie.

“How’ve you been, Sukuna?” You ask casually, trying to lighten the mood as you dry his hair. “Fine,” he spits out, the only words he can say right now are ‘fine’ or ‘sorry’. You look down at him, a frown on your face from the lack of detail. He stands up abruptly, peeling off his soaked shirt as he wears the hoodie. It smells like you. He finds himself bringing the collar of the hoodie up to his nose just to get a whiff of your comforting scent, like a man starved. He carefully slips the sweatpants on, the soaked clothes a little puddle of fabric on the floor as he sits back down.

You worry, worry about what hes doing, because he doesn’t appear to be fine. Far from it. “That’s not what i asked.” You say, your voice a bit firmer. You expect a response, a real response to your question instead of a nod or a hum. “S’been shit,” he says, shrugging his shoulders as he speaks in that gruff tone of voice. He isn’t really living, just making it through the days. He’s waiting out his clock, counting the days since you left. What is there to even do when the one person who kept him anchored to this shithole of a world left? All because of him.

“Drink, smoke, fuck, work, repeat” He says, trying to be a bit more specific to make this simple conversation last a bit longer. Anything to hear your sweet voice, no matter what you say to him. Cuss him out, say he’s a prick, tell him he has no future, he wont care. The way you dry his hair, care for him so tenderly, he’ll never care. He just yearns to be yours again. “Thats all?” You ask softly, trying to keep your obvious judgement to yourself. Hes not your boyfriend anymore, you have no right to nag at him to be healthy or careful anymore. But oh, how he longs to hear you nag at him again. “Just that?” You question, raising a brow in curiosity. “Nothing else?”

Sukuna looks up at you, a heavy sigh leaving his chest as his shoulders drop. “Can’t seem to stay out of trouble without ya, y’know?” he mumbles, trying to resist the urge to pull you closer, to feel you one more time. He just doesn’t know what else to say, he cant admit all the stupid things hes done without you there. How he went totally batshit crazy once, how he nearly died choking on his own vomit when he drowned himself in alcohol. He cant tell you all the new scars he’s inflicted on himself, all the substances he takes, all the times he’s been taken to the police station for another petty bar fight.

“Any new tattoos?” You ask, looking down at him. Sukuna nods, scratching his scalp as he speaks. “Few,” he replies. “A couple random ones. This one—“ he pulls the fabric of his sleeve up, exposing a tattoo on his forearm. Kanji going vertically down the limb, with delicate vines and flower blooming in between the bold ink. “Is for you. Always regretted driving you away.” His admission is vulnerable, crimson eyes scanning your face to gauge your reaction. Its definitely for you, Sukuna doesn’t get these delicate and soft tattoos. You expected maybe a heart or something with your initial, but this is art. It’s something he got done while sober, thats obvious.

“For me?” Your brows raise in surprise, a bit confused. You grab his arm, looking at the tattoo more intently. “This was a bad decision, you know that, right?” You say in frustration, slightly frustrated to still be tied to a man you tried your hardest to forget.

“Course it was a bad decision.” He replies nonchalantly, trying to ignore the weird feeling in his chest. “Ain’t that what I’m best at?” He’s been a wreck without you, even got a tattoo to keep any part of you with him. Trying to drown out his head in anything, leaning toward alchool and nicotine for the normal days, substances and violence for the days that were quite hard to deal with. He remembers the day he got the tattoo vividly, which is a surprise considering any days without you faded from his memory as soon as they came. His head felt full of you, and nothing else.

“For all its worth—“ You pause, looking down at him with a slight frown. You gaze at the tattoo once more, a heavy sigh leaving your lips. Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder, and art is subjective. But his memento to you, “It’s beautiful.” You comment softly, deciding not to scorn his decision this time. And it truly is beautiful.

“Means alot,” his voice holds a twinge of joy, hands move up to grasp at the towel, inked fingers brushing against yours. “You… it’s late, you should sleep.” His tone lacks any true conviction, his gaze moving up to your face, trying to read your expression. And the pity and concern on your face makes him want to rip his hair out. “I can’t let you sleep with wet hair, you’ll get a headache.” You comment, carefully drying strands of poorly dyed pink hair. Sukuna wants to reach out and pull you close, to wrap his arms around you and hit himself as many times as you say just to get your forgiveness.

“I’ve been through plenty of headaches, baby.” He says, eyes falling shut as he forces himself to stay awake. The nickname leaves his lips so naturally, he forgets he has no right to call you that anymore. He cant do anything without knowing you forgive him or not. He wants you back, he needs you back or he might just lose it. He can feel himself unravel by the day, he’s almost lost his grip. Didn’t know how much he needed you till you were gone.

“Sukuna, you alright?” You break the long silence, features the picture of a worried lover. It makes his heart clench. Just look at you, how could you gaze at a man like him with such tenderness? How do you touch him without recoiling in disgust? God, how he misses you.

“Do i look alright to you?”

“Not really...”

“Exactly.”

You look down at him, a heavy breath leaving your chest as you remove the towel, looking down at him. His eyes seem glazed over, like hes not fully in the moment. Sukuna knows you see it, and hes trying not to focus on you too much or he might just burst into ugly tears. “Missing ya, every second of every day.” He mumbles, gently taking your hands as he allows the briefest brush of his lips across your knuckles.

“Do i scare you?” He blurts out.

“What?”

“I won’t blame you if i do, just tell me.”

You pause for a moment, looking down at him as he holds your hands close to his lips. “Not right now.”

“Other times?”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe?” He cocks a brow. “Like when i hit you?”

Your voice is awkward, your gaze averted from his tender affections. “Yeah.”

“Yeah?” He cranes his head up to gaze at you, breathing deeply to steady himself. He almost thought you’d be joking, but seeing your expression solidifies it for him. He’s been thrown off guard. He knew he frightened you that day, hearing you admit it is just more horrid. He just wishes he wasn’t so damn scary. “‘M sorry,” The words can’t form in his brain, let alone leave his lips.

Apologize to her, say something! Im sorry, im sorry for hitting you, im sorry, i love you!

“I still care about you, ya know?”

“I know, Sukuna.”

“You care too.”

“...”

“Been shit without you, baby. Im going crazy here.” He chucks dryly, not a hint of humor in his tone. It’s not funny, he’s serious, he’s off the rails without you. He needs you there, to keep him on a leash, to be there for him, to put your hand on his shoulder to make sure he doesn’t blow up at some granny in the grocery store for being slow. To gently help him after a hangover, to clean his bloody knuckles after another fight.

“You’re not crazy. Just hurting.”

“In other words—im crazy.”

“Its been years, why?”

“Why what?”

“Why all of this? Why are you hurting? The tattoo, coming to my house, looking at me like… that!” You blow up, face the picture of hurt as you look down at him. Why does he torment you like this? You already struggled with the split, he cant come to your house and look at you so sweetly, speak so gently.

“Cause i need ya,” he mumbles, fingers intertwining with yours. “Cause i love you.”

“Don’t say that.”

“Its the truth, you know I’m bad at lying to ya’.”

“I don’t want to hear it.”

“I want you to hear it.”

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #sukuna #sukuna ryomen #sukuna x reader

[abibliophobiaa]

Chapter Two: Miscommunication

summary: times goes on, and so do you. but what happens when you bump into the one person you thought you would never see again? (6k words)

eddie munson x pregnant!reader || strangers to friends to lovers, unplanned pregnancy, and then they were roommates, forced proximity.

warnings: sickness (r morning sickness); mention of drugs; mention of child abuse.

mini series masterlist

previous chapter || next chapter

——

Life didn’t magically stop merely because Eddie had ended up being completely different than who you thought he was. Still, nothing quite eased the ache of knowing you’d foolishly trusted another person who’d only gone and let you down. And even so, you quarreled daily with the fact Eddie didn’t really owe you or this baby anything. He’d done as you’d asked; he’d provided an outlet that afternoon, had loved you in the dark — for a little while. You often fought the urge to blame yourself for believing the front he’d put on. The whole ‘I don’t do this often.’

Because apparently he had, based on the fact he’d needed you to remind him more than once who you were. It wasn’t like it was often one found a woman dressed in a Princess Buttercup costume, and then proceeded to go back to a hotel with said woman.

You could do this on your own. Had convinced yourself of as much when you’d started looking for places to move. The only thing was…the city proved to be expensive. It had been one thing having joint salaries when you’d lived with Paul to help cover the cost of rent. Now you had another eventual mouth to feed, a baby to clothe in a few months time, and other expenses to think about like diapers and car seats and furniture.

Two weeks after you’d told Eddie about the baby and he’d essentially shot you down, you’d gotten a phone call from Robin Buckley. You had spent years together in acting classes at your college in the city a few years ago. Became fast friends back in the day and still kept up with one another. It just so happened, when you’d caught her up on life, that she had a basement apartment at her friend Steve’s place that he and his wife, Chrissy, rented out to her. Side entrance, privacy, and apparently a pull out couch in the living area that you could crash on until you found an apartment of your own.

You hated the idea of putting her out like that, but she insisted. And soon enough you shared teary goodbyes in Micah’s living room, her arms around your form, as Jeremiah clapped you on the back. They both wished you well and promised to call, and you hopped in the car and watched as the city faded into nothingness behind you.

Cityscapes and towering buildings turned into endless trees and charming Mom and Pop shops. Busy intersections became citizens walking their dogs and running on side streets. It even smelled different, the air cleaner and crisper somehow, not bogged down by car fumes and smoke.

The Harrington home was beautiful. Large, imposing walls. Gorgeous interior filled to the brim with countless photos of Chrissy and Steve throughout the years. Married for the past two of them, and sickly in love judging by the way they answered the door together, Steve’s arm around his wife, with Chrissy bouncing a baby girl with sandy blonde hair on her hip as you’d entered.

The immediate thought of Eddie’s dark hair knocked the wind out of you — the realization your own child might have his hair. Dark ringlets, and chocolate brown eyes. You hated that you even cared. It had been one night, and even if it had changed nearly everything for you, it meant nothing to him. He’d made that part very clear.

That first evening spent in Hawkins was done so around their dinner table. Steve had put together some pasta and meatballs, and you all chatted about your lives. You, and your old job, of which Steve snapped his fingers together immediately and suggested you come work at the high school where they’d needed some help in the library.

Robin seemed so hopeful for you, eyes shining as he told you, “See — it’s all gonna work out, babe. I told you.”

The apartment itself wasn’t large or anything. An open space for the most part, with a connected living room and kitchen. Robin had the closed off bedroom, and there was a makeshift bathroom with a small shower stall inside, and not nearly spacious enough. But it would do for now, and was way more than you could have ever hoped for or expected.

Your first purchases had been some clear tote boxes to keep stored away under your pullout bed. One for your clothes, one for the clothes you thrifted for the baby, and one for the miscellaneous items here and there like toiletries, diapers, your shampoos and conditioners and make up. It wasn’t much, and you’d likely run out of room soon, but it worked for now.

Those first two weeks passed in a blur. As promised, Steve was able to get you in for an interview at the high school library. It paid well enough, came with health insurance, and time off for maternity leave — though you didn’t know how they knew you’d need it, but you’d like to thank them if you ever found out. As you exited, you happened upon Steve and Chrissy’s awaiting stares, her excited giggling bursting to life when you’d said you were hired and would start that following Monday.

Later, as you all shared yet another celebratory dinner — this time for your new job position — and your baby decided it definitely didn’t like meatloaf, you stumbled into Chrissy on your way out of the bathroom, the back of your hand pressed to your mouth. Her eyes were soft as she led you back over to sit on the edge of the shower and fumbled around in her cabinet for something wrapped in a tiny package.

“Apparently ginger helps with the nausea,” she explained as your eyes widened at the wrapped candy settled in your palm. Confusion lined your furrowed brows and she continued, “For the morning sickness.”

“Oh — I-I’m…”

“It’s okay, you know. I kind of figured it out right away. Steve says I have a sense for these things.” She settled down on the toilet beside you, her knee knocking against the outside of your jean-clad thigh. “Is the father not…”

“No.” It came out as a shaky exhale, heart thumping loudly in your ears. “He’s not around, no. It’s just us.”

“Then you’ll stay,” she urged, reaching across your lap to clasp her hand around yours. “For as long as you need, okay?”

Life settled into a new normalcy. You went to work every morning, waved to your new coworkers as you passed, and began learning the names of the dozens of kids that would filter in and out of the library. And during your lunch breaks, you’d often walk around the track with Steve, talking to him about your day, his day, the weather. Trivial things, but it brought you comfort. A sense of familiarity in the unfamiliar you found yourself in.

The holidays, though different this year, were spent with people who wanted the best for you. Chrissy and Steve had been kind enough to buy you a basket of things for the baby, and Robin had as well, trying to lighten the burden however they could.

It was right around that time you’d learned Steve not only had Melody as a daughter, but a gaggle of twenty-something’s that Robin joked he’d been something of a mother hen to. They welcomed you into the fold without question, excited to have a new friend in their close-knit group.

It was also during those initial weeks you’d spent hours talking to Micah and Jere about how you really thought this was the best decision for your life right now. That you needed this change. And they promised to come visit often when you had your own place, especially since Micah insisted she planned on ‘spoiling the hell out of her niece or nephew.’

Soon enough, unfamiliar streets became solidified in your memory. You learned the best coffee shops and the shortest routes to get places you needed to go. You realized the next door neighbor, Tabitha, always walked her dogs at two in the afternoon and waved as she passed every time. That Pete down the street had the freshest veggie garden every spring and summer, and he promised he’d give you his extras when the seasons got warmer. You even enjoyed your coworkers. Appreciated their presence and help as you acquainted yourself with the school setting, and looked out for you like you'd been there for years.

Hawkins became a home. You didn’t know how or when, but it had. And it was then you finally allowed yourself to pause in front of your bathroom mirror one evening. To stop and stare at the reflection there, turning to the side, curiously tracing the space presently unchanged. Tried to imagine your empty arms being full in a few months, tried to imagine their little face. Tiny hands and little toes, the only person who knew what your heart sounded like from the inside.

They’d be yours and they’d be happy, growing up in a place where they’d only know love, and that’s all you ever wanted.

——

As the weeks progressed and 1994 bled into 1995, you progressed. Eyes drifted in supermarkets, trailed over the girl with no husband in tow. A bunch of close-minded town folk. Mother’s seemed to eye you wearily as you walked, children tugged closer to their side. Whispered when your back was turned to friends, asking quietly if you were simply gaining weight only in your middle of if you had some sort of scandalous secret, reaching up to grab canned soup or Robin’s favorite snacks.

It happened to be the only thing you didn’t like about Hawkins. The fact your business quickly became everyone else’s business. It was bad enough that you worked with teenagers these days. Many of whom preferred coming into the library lately to merely talk to someone they saw as closer in age, and therefore their personal information dump. You gave little more than properly timed nods and gentle reassurances, before you wished them on their way back to whatever classes they seemed intent on skipping.

Luckily, as the holidays came and went, you had the fortune of your increasingly close knitted friend group that consisted of Steve, Chrissy, and Robin — as well as the youngest Harrington, Melody.

Melody with her bright laughter and wispy curls, who reminded you constantly of who you were doing this all for. Uprooting your life, making changes, doing what you wanted to for once. That same little presence that had made itself more prominently known those weeks, current jeans swapped for ones you thrifted at the local store that accommodated the small bump that had decided would no longer be confined to your old clothes. That same little presence your thumb brushed over as you stood in the cereal aisle with Robin and held aloft a box, asking if you needed anymore back at the apartment.

“I mean, we already have two boxes, babe,” she said, shrugging, “but if you’re craving it, buy it. I don’t wanna mess with those angry hormones or whatever you got going on right now.”

“I don’t get angry.” The petulant pout on your lips spoke otherwise.

“You cried when I drank the last of the coffee the other morning —”

“That’s different,” you grumbled, tossing the box into the shopping cart. “I think we got everything. Is there anything else that you can th —”

“Robin Buckley in the flesh. Get your ass over here right now, I missed you so fucking much.”

You stiffened on the spot, heart clenching tight within your chest. You couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think, couldn’t move, couldn’t utter a word. The voice had come from behind you, but the realization dawned instant. The timbre of it, the inflection of his words, the jovial nature and affection lacing the sentiment toward your friend.

And Robin understood. You watched as clarity drained her features, a sickly pale color overtaking her cheeks. As her mouth dropped open and she glanced over your shoulder to offer him a smile. You’d never told your friends much about the father. Hadn't even so much as uttered his name once since he’d hung up the call. Had only said he’d been someone you knew briefly and never saw again. Someone who’d known about the baby, and yet wanted nothing to do with it, sparing you from further heartbreak in some ways by rejecting you both outright. Now he was here, standing behind you in the cereal aisle in Hawkins, no longer in California.

With the tip of your head, you muttered, “I’m fine. Go say hi.”

Head bowing over the railing of your shopping cart, you listened as Robin and Eddie’s laughter filled the aisle. As he likely picked her up and spun her around, based on the sudden thump of feet you heard a short while after.

“And who is your friend here?” he asked, stepping closer to you. And when you turned, he stiffened, voice a little high and tight as he choked, “Buttercup?”

“It’s me,” you offered weakly, feeling very much like you’d stepped into an episode of The Twilight Zone. “Guess you’re back from California.”

The words came out harsher than you intended. Barbed in a way that felt unfamiliar to you. Especially with Robin standing uncomfortably in the distance, shifting on the balls of her feet, eyes dancing between the two of you like she didn’t know who she should focus her attention on solely.

“And you’re…here. In Hawkins,” he murmured, sounding a little breathless, hand reaching out to touch like he thought you might float away into the wind before his eyes. You didn’t even think he noticed what he was doing, but you stepped back all the same, an arm coming to cross over your chest, head angling away from him. “I, uhm. Sorry, sorry — can we talk?”

Hurt seared anew in your chest, eyes meeting Robin’s briefly. The other woman shrugged, and you faced Eddie once more. “I don’t know what we could possibly —”

“Five minutes,” he offered, biting at his bottom lip. “Just…five minutes.”

“I’ll go up front to check out. Give me the car keys,” Robin said, just as your resolve crumbled a bit and you dipped your head curtly. You did as told and she flashed you a weak smile, pushing the cart along. Her head whirled around. “Don’t forget you have an appointment soon. I’ll come get you if you’re still talking after five minutes.”

“Thanks, Rob. We won’t be long, don't worry.”

You waved, following Eddie out the sliding front doors to the supermarket, stomach lodged high in your throat.

——

Of all the things you imagined he might say if you saw him again, “You know, I really hoped you’d call,” was definitely not one of them. And it was exactly what he’d said as you stepped out into the street, tugging your winter coat tighter to your body to block out the chill in the air.

Hot anger pooled in your veins. Fists balled up at your sides. Those angry hormones Robin spoke of? You felt them building at his statement, forming a cyclone of whirling emotion, anger like acid on your tongue as you snapped back, “Are you kidding me? I did call you, Eddie. I fucking called you to tell you I was pregnant and you hung up on me. I can’t believe you just said that. You know, I already thought you were an asshole, but that took the —”

You’d started walking away from him, wanting to run back inside the store and pretend this whole ordeal had never happened. Five minutes had been a joke, you’d only made it thirty seconds before he’d gone and opened his mouth and infuriated you further than you already had been toward the man.

But then you heard it. The choked whoosh of breath, the wobbly, “What did you just say?”

There was another sharp inhale of breath. Staggered, like he’d suffered through it, his palm coming to rest over his sternum. Fear propelled you toward him, a hand coming to rest over his back as he hunched forward a bit, trying to catch his breath.

“Eddie…what’s happening right now?” Your voice was so quiet you worried he might not have heard you over the harsh gasps he tried to draw into ragged lungs.

Something like a moaned curse ripped from his lips and he dropped down into a crouch, back against a lamppost, seemingly the only thing holding him upright. You got down on your knees in front of him, rubbing along the taut muscles of his shoulders, tensed in his panic.

“Hey…” you whispered, completely confused as to what the hell was going on. And yet, he looked so broken, forehead on his knees, arms around his shins, trying to get a hold of himself. “Deep breaths, okay? Follow me.”

He listened to your words as you coached him through a few deeper breaths. Watched as his shoulders loosened up, as his lungs started to expand further, and the wheezing died down into a quiet whisper. Finally, he looked upward — at you, at your face, and your own breath faltered. Watery, his eyes were watery and you could see the confusion there. The unfathomable and unimaginable hurt.

“Why…why does it seem like this is the first time you’re…hearing this…”

“Because it is, god damn it,” he groaned. “Did you really think — you thought — I wouldn’t have —”

“I don’t really even know you,” you retaliated, following after him as he shot up and began walking the opposite direction of the store you’d come from. “Will you slow down?!”

“Should I be concerned that there’s a woman chasing you across the parking lot, Munson?” Robin barked out a laugh, pushing your shared cart along the parking lot, stopping when she reached where you presently stood, watching Eddie walk back and forth, still trying to gather himself. To you, she whispered, “Is he okay?”

“I’m…I’m not sure,” you said, frowning when he turned back around and brushed the back of his hand along his eyes, then glanced down at your midsection, hidden behind the layers of your now zipped jacket. “Hey, Eddie? I think we need to go somewhere and talk.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, nodding, those curls around his shoulder bobbing with the movement, “yeah, I think we can start there.”

“I have an hour before my doctor’s appointment,” you told him, then glanced at Robin. “If Eddie drives me to the diner, can you drive my car? And I can always walk to my doctor’s office.”

“I’m not making you walk in the cold.” Eddie shook his head. “I’ll — I can drop you off or something.”

Robin took your keys hesitantly, eying you both once more. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?” Robin asked you quietly. At your nod, she added, “This doesn’t sound like Eddie if he’s who I’m thinking he is. He’s a good guy, babe. Just…maybe hear him out, okay? No angry hormones.”

“No angry hormones,” you promised, and watched as Eddie and Robin loaded up your trunk with the groceries you bought.

Once your friend pulled out of the parking lot, it was time for you to climb into Eddie’s van. He rushed around to open the door for you, and held a hand out as you clambered up on in, heart thudding at the fleeting contact with the man after two months without. Hated that even now you felt that immediate rush, the jolt in your system that you’d felt that night.

He hopped in on the other side and watched your face as you angled your head over your shoulder at the back of the vehicle. Your yet unvoiced immediate thoughts as you took in your surroundings were quieted by his rapidly uttered, “I…can make it safer. For —” He glanced down again, “well, you know.”

Uncomfortable silence settled over the vehicle, the gentle hum of whatever music Eddie had put on immediately lowered when you jolted to life at the first blaring notes that spilled out. Scenery fluttered on by as your forehead pressed against the glass window, fingers curled into a fist on your lap, tension roiling in your form.

The diner appeared out of the corner of your eye, its neon glowing sign declaring they were open twenty four hours catching your eye as you dropped down from the passenger side door and joined Eddie on the sidewalk. He opened the door for you as you both approached and helped pull out a chair, that boyish smile on his face you so vividly remembered playing on his lips as he dropped down across from you and asked the nearest waitress for some water and a set of menus.

“I just want a giant plate of fries,” you groaned, practically tasting them in all their potatoey goodness.

“And a plate of fries for the lady, please!” Eddie called out just before the waitress slipped out of earshot. “I…it’s good to see you. You look great.”

“You too.” Your fingers balled up your straw wrapper, rolled it along the table mindlessly. “So, I guess we should rip the bandaid off and start at the beginning?”

“Beginning is good.”

“About a month after we’d been together I started feeling sick. So naturally I went to the doctor and, well, surprise.” You gestured vaguely to your form. “That’s when I called you. Or I thought I did? But the look on your face back there….Eddie, I’m so sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” He laughed, a dark sounding laugh that made your fingers twitch around your glass, refraining from reaching over to comfort the man. “You tried to tell me. Fuck — I’m going to find out who it was. But you have to know I’d never just…abandon my kid. Please know that. I might be scared as shit, but I wouldn’t abandon them like that. Wouldn’t abandon their mother like that either.”

“So you’re okay with it?” Fear gripped your chest, head lifting to look at him over the top of your glass of water. “Because you’re oddly calm about this at the moment and I just want to remind you this isn’t some kind of thing someone can half commit to. I — we have at least eighteen years ahead of us.”

“I understand that,” he said earnestly, an edge of harshness to his tone. His eyes narrowed a bit. “My dad was a piece of shit. I’m not about to follow in his footsteps.”

“I’m sorry,” you blurted, swallowing thickly, “I didn’t mean to insinuate anything by it. I’m just —”

“You’re a mother, I get it.”

It was the first time someone acknowledged it. The first time maybe you’d even acknowledged it. A mother; you were a mother. Not going to be — a present state.

“Yeah, I guess I am.”

“I…I want to be there. In any way that I can. I know you’re doing most of the work right now, but I want you to know I’m here.” He exhaled deeply, hand coming to swipe over his jaw, rubbing gently. “I want to be here. For you,” he glanced down, “and them.”

“Okay. I guess we’re doing this.”

“We’re doing this,” he agreed.

Silence settled over the two of you as a waitress appeared with your drinks and the plate of fries you decided you might as well share with Eddie. You wanted it to be awkward. Wanted it to be stilted, but he was just as charming as the night you’d first met him. Boisterous laughter, jokes that made your sides hurt, wide grins that made something swoop low in your belly.

“How was California?”

“Good — warmer than here at least. We recorded the album and we’re really happy with the result. It’s very true to our roots, which is what we wanted,” he said, tossing another fry into his mouth. “We might do a tour, but we have a year. Which…works out, given our current circumstances. Just how pregnant are you right now anyway?”

“Four months,” you told him, sipping at your water.

“How are you feeling?”

“Uhm, in the beginning I was really sick. But luckily the past couple of weeks have been better,” you explained, offering him a smile when he grimaced. “I have pictures. I’ve kept copies in my bag…it’s silly, I know. Do you want to see them?”

“Can I?” He pressed his fist to his mouth as you slipped your hand into your pocketbook and fished out the small black and white images of varying stages throughout the past couple of months. You laid the first one in front of him, laughing as he squinted to try and figure out what exactly he was looking at. “It looks like a bean.”

“It kind of was. That was the first appointment,” you told him, handing him the most recent one after. “And this is my most recent appointment.”

His fingers glided over the curve of the spine. The shape of the head. Marveled at it with glassy eyes, your fingers curling over the leather of his jacket, right around his wrist to offer him some modicum of comfort. Allowed him to have a moment to let it all sink in. It had to be overwhelming. It had been, and still often was, for you to sit down and really accept that all of this was real.

He’d only had minutes to accept the news that his life as he knew it had changed, you had months.

“We should leave for my appointment soon,” you said, tucking away your napkin on the table.

“Would it be weird if I asked to come?” he asked, sounding so hopeful, younger than you knew him to be.

“It’s not weird. I mean, they’re half you, right?” you told him, watching him sign his signature on the receipt handed over by the waitress in passing before tucking it away. “But, uh, sure. Yeah.”

He lifted the picture of his unborn baby once more, grinned to himself, thumb brushing over the curve of their head. “Thank you.”

——

Father.

Eddie Munson hadn’t really ever had a good example of what that word stood for. For him, ‘father’ was the man who only came around every so often to ask his mother for money when she’d been alive. For drugs, to get himself out of a horrible situation, to try and pay a bill. For Eddie, father was the guy who taught him how to hotwire a car, the man who gave him his first black eye, someone who blamed his son for his every lot in life.

But as he grew, father became morning coffees with Wayne outside as the sun rose high over Hawkins. It meant putting up a Christmas tree around the holidays that looked more like a bush with lights than anything else. It meant learning how to fix cars with his hands, encouraging words to get him through high school, a call late at night when he was out of town working on his dreams of making music.

Right now, father was the word the technician had used when she asked you to confirm who he was to the baby when he sat down in that little office with you. It was the word she used when she asked him to fill out paperwork on his history, the word his soul screamed at him when he finally heard that tiny heartbeat working overtime.

His little ‘Party Favor’ he’d teased as you both walked back out toward the van after scheduling your next ultrasound. Twenty weeks, the big one, they’d told you both.

“Please don’t call our baby a party favor ever again,” you’d grumbled as you hoisted yourself up into the passenger seat, but he knew from the smile tugging at your lips when he settled down on the driver’s side that you hadn’t meant it.

“Where are you staying these days?” he asked, thumb curling around the steering wheel. “So I can drive you home.”

He hadn’t expected you to rattle off Steve’s address, but when you did, his eyes widened and you immediately asked, “Do you know where that is?”

“Kind of,” he said, turning his head to take in your pretty features. While he knew it probably wasn’t the best time to be admiring you as such, you looked so damn breathtaking his stomach twisted with it, “seeing as he’s my best friend.”

“Why am I not surprised? This day just keeps getting weirder.” You laughed, staring out into the streets as a gentle snow began to fall. “I happen to move to your hometown, where I also happen to then move into your best friend’s house.”

“I didn’t know you knew Robin.”

“It’s a small world.”

“And apparently getting smaller,” he said, eyes ahead on the road as he pulled out of the parking lot. “Thank you. For letting me come.”

The answer was silence. You’d curled up against the car door, forehead against the glass, mouth parted gently, lashes flush against the tops of your cheeks. His eyes drifted downward, to where your pocketbook rested next to your hip and your arm curled over your middle. Peaceful, you looked so peaceful — just like that night you’d spent together, where he’d watched as your eyes had started to flutter closed halfway through the movie and he’d held his breath as you rolled over and sought out the heat of his body.

He hadn’t lied. He didn’t have nights like those often. Had never even intended to go to that party that night. He’d only gone because the rest of the guys wanted to get out of the hotel for a bit and ended up rushing to put together a costume with less than a day’s notice. You’d sat at that bar, hunched over and bored and he’d been curious. He just never expected you to turn around, nor had he expected spending hours laughing with you over your drinks, or finding yourselves twisted in bedsheets.

And so much changed in a short four months. A stranger — you were mostly a stranger and now you were having his kid. Today, you’d been an acquaintance? A friend? He wasn’t sure what to think about it all. He still hadn’t fully processed the fact he would be a father in a few months to an innocent human being. Something so impressionable and his to raise.

He supposed that was also a conversation for another day. Something else to ponder after he dropped you off for the night and laid down for bed. Sighing, he shifted the car into park and glanced up at the front porch lamp hanging on the front of Steve Harrington’s doorway. He waved as Chrissy poked her head through the front curtains and noticed your sleeping form in the front seat.

Steve appeared in the doorway next, baby Melody on his hip as Eddie dropped down out of the van and rushed around the vehicle. “Say hi to Uncle Eddie,” Steve called out, holding up the baby’s hand in a little wave.

He waved back at the girl with a beaming gummy smile and tugged the door open, catching your shoulder as you rolled against the seatbelt a bit, eyes jolting open. “Hey, hey. You fell asleep, it’s just me.”

Your eyes searched his face in the night, and his heart lurched at the way they softened in recognition. “I’m sorry. You were talking and that was so rude of me I —”

“All good. I’m glad you got some sleep,” he chuckled, holding out a hand as you dropped down from the front seat and wobbled a bit before steadying yourself. “We’re here.”

The two of you made your way into the household, varying degrees of curious stares gliding over your forms as you stepped through the threshold. The first of which being Chrissy, who seemed unsure whether she wanted to keep her eyes on him or you.

“So you two have met it seems,” Steve said, “guess we don't have to get introductions out of the way.”

“We’ve met,” you muttered quietly, dipping your head as you yawned. A hand splayed over your midsection and Eddie watched the trail of your gaze stop on him. “Thanks for driving me today. I’m really tired and I should probably get to bed early.”

“Uh — y-yeah. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight everyone.” And you were gone, back trailing down the hallway toward the downstairs basement, the door shutting behind you with a resounding click.

There was a beat of silence, then, “Why didn’t you tell me she was living here?”

“What do you mean, you asshole? First time I see you in months and that’s the first thing you say?”

“That’s her.”

“The girl from the party?” Steve asked, mouth agape as Chrissy stepped forward to take the baby from him. She bounced their daughter around the kitchen island, pretending she wasn’t listening with her back to them, but Eddie knew better. Couldn’t fault her for wanting to protect a friend. “That’s the girl you couldn’t shut up about? Buttercup?”

“I need a drink. A strong one,” Eddie rasped, pulling out one of the island barstools. Propped his elbows on the counter and pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes. “First I’m thinking when I see her at the store, ‘wow, maybe I get a second chance at this.’ Has to be, since she ends up here of all places. And then I find out she’s pregnant with my baby and I —”

“You hung up on her,” Chrissy interjected. Steve raised a brow in her direction. “Sorry. I just…you didn’t see her when she came to town.”

“But that’s the thing.” He paused to thank Steve as he dropped a glass in front of him on the table. “I didn’t know. I would have been on a plane if I knew. I hate thinking she’s been alone in all of this. And I know the day she was referring to. We’d had some stupid party after we’d finished the album and played some of the new songs for fun and we had some people over. She talked to someone, but I swear it wasn’t me.”

“We believe you,” Steve promised, settling down beside his friend. A hand curled around Eddie’s forearm and gave a tight squeeze. “How are you feeling?”

He groaned a hoarse cry of ‘fuck’ into his fist, head shaking back and forth. “I’m scared, man. I tried to be brave for her today, but I don’t even know the first thing about kids. In what universe did someone think I’d be fit to be a dad?”

“In all of them, Ed,” Chrissy sighed, coming up to rest a hand on her husband’s shoulder. Steve reached over and slid his palm over her smaller one, oozing that sweet fondness that most people only ever dreamed of. “You’re a good man. Don’t sell yourself short. You have a few months to figure out all the rest.”

“You told her you’re going to be there for her, right? I mean, if that’s what you want?” Steve asked, eyes intently searching his best friend’s face.

“Yeah.” Eddie sighed, taking a large gulp of his drink. “I mean, not much I can do right now, but I’m going to be in whatever way she wants me to be.” His hand swiped down the front of his face.

“I’m going to put her down for bed and head up. Love you two.” Chrissy moved to exit the room, dropping a kiss to the top of Eddie’s head and shoving the back of it teasingly into the kitchen island. Once he’d bursted into a laugh, she bounced the baby higher on her hip and said, “And Eddie. It’s going to be okay. You have all of us too. You’re not alone; neither of you are. Don’t forget that.”

He sure hoped so.

Long after Chrissy had gone up for bed, and Eddie grabbed his jacket from the front coat hanger rack, Steve stopped him in the doorway. Pulled him in for a hug Eddie would normally end up throwing a fist into Steve’s stomach jokingly for. This time he clapped him on the back and let his lungs fully deflate. A sigh he’d been holding onto all afternoon released, the tension in his body along with it.

“To me, it looks like you got a second chance with her. Might look different than you thought it would, but you got a second chance. Whether that’s as co-parents, friends, or more — you still have something,” Steve told him, stepping back to open the door for his friend. “I’d take advantage of that opportunity. Not everyone gets one.”

And damn it, he decided he would.

——

let me know what you think! 💌 see you again next week for chapter three, titled ‘roommates.’ 😉

#lunaloveseddie #Eddie munson x reader #Eddie munson x you #eddie munson x pregnant!reader #eddie munson x f!reader

[atlasofthestaars]

[MK X READER] New Era - Chapter .015

first part | previous part | next part

NOTE:

Yet again we’re hoping for less than three weeks update time. We’ll see how it goes now haha ^^

edit: I lost track of time. I keep on forgetting when I last updated.

Rain got in as a love interest, which does alter the story a bit! 

Reminder that I like to do canon divergence <3 

Would you guys like a collection of headcanons I’ve done for requests on AO3?? I usually don’t post them there because they’re pretty short but I can put them all into one book that I’ll update.

Also happy 100k+ words! I'm. I'm not ready to figure out how many words this will all be by the end.

FROM THE EYES OF SOMEONE WHO ENJOYS A MOMENT OF PEACE

“Things are getting rough.”

You stood upon the roof of a building, staring down at the destruction of the city around you. Outworlders mobbed the streets, terrorizing the innocent Earthrealmers. To describe it as “rough” was an understatement. It’s been two long years ever since the first invasions on Earthrealm started. It’s been nearly a year since you’ve moved out to the city along with the others to fend off where it was the worst.

Most of Earthrealm’s forces were sent here, along with Raiden, to defend the city. But there were a few that were scattered around the world to help other regions. Fujin and your father, for example, stayed behind to help the monks defend the Wu Shi along with others of the White Lotus. You missed both of them dearly, only being able to communicate with them occasionally.

You haven’t been able to visit Kung Lao’s grave in over a year. You only hoped that he understood why.

“Are you planning on going out again?” Liu Kang’s voice spoke. His voice dripped with concern. You turned your gaze away from the apocalyptic sight to your dear friend. It was a much better view than the one below. His eyebrows furrowed as he stared at you. You sighed and nodded before turning your gaze down to the view below. As disturbing as it was, you felt guiltier turning a blind eye.

“I have to, I don’t think Raiden and Johnny Cage are enough to take down that extermination squad they’ve sent out.” You said, crossing your arms. A light breeze passed by, sending the smell of smoke your way. You grimaced at the acrid scent. No matter how long you’ve been here, you’re not sure if you’ll ever get used to it. Especially with how you’ve become so accustomed to the much cleaner air at the temple. “That, and Nightwolf said he would enjoy my help to help recruit the two Raiden has been getting information on.”

“New recruits?” Liu Kang inquired. You nodded gravely in response. A hint of distaste seemed to linger with his words along with some confusion. You didn’t blame him, ever since you’ve been out here, you’ve never really gone and sought out other help. Well, you’ve wanted to, but Raiden had been hesitant in dragging others into this whole affair.

As if they weren’t already. Still, you saw the logic within Raiden’s decision, even though it was flawed. 

“Yes. Raiden says they have potential.” Out of the corner of your eye, you see your friend move. Was that a flinch? Or did he simply shift his weight? When you turned your gaze to check, you couldn’t tell. “I think it would be good to get more help. Our efforts are stretched out thin as it is.” You elaborate. Your hands go out to grasp at the concrete railing, gripping it tightly. You were certain by the time you let go of it, your hands would have the texture imprinted upon them.

“I still cannot believe that even after winning two tournaments and even I had nearly killed Shao Khan, it was not enough.” Liu Kang said, moving to stand closer to you. Bitterness coated his words. The distaste within his words felt strange, no matter how much more common it was becoming. You recalled back to the moment you had confronted him at Kung Lao’s grave. He was doing much better now, but you had felt like something had fundamentally changed within Liu Kang.

You could never truly pinpoint when that change happened. Was it when the invasions had started? Or maybe, was it when Kung Lao died? Part of you doubted it was either one of those, even if it sounded like it made sense. It was probably much earlier, maybe after Raiden had said Liu Kang was not the chosen one. Either way, he had changed. There was resentment that lingered in his soul, directed at Raiden. You could feel it with every interaction.

It worried you. Team morale was low enough as it were without the subtle drama between Liu Kang and Raiden. It was taxing enough to keep on a brave face in front of everyone, to pretend like everything would be alright. You didn’t know if you had enough spirit left in you to mend things together. With every day that you had to hide your dwindling confidence, you broke a little inside.

You should really talk to him, but you feared that it would lead to more issues. Maybe you were being irrational and over thinking things. You were all tired, maybe he was just irritated at how the world has essentially fallen apart.

Surely that must be it. Liu Kang was not one to dislike Raiden. If anything, he had been the one out of all three of you who had regarded him the highest. So it was illogical to think that he would suddenly dislike or even hate the god.

You were just being too worried. Maybe your logic has become weaker after pretending everything was alright for so long. That, and Liu Kang and Raiden were adults, or in Raiden’s case, more than an adult. They can figure out whatever dispute they had, if they even had one. They didn’t need you to coddle them. You had enough on your plate already, you could trust them.

Still, even with that conclusion, a pit of guilt formed in your stomach. 

Warmth radiated from Liu Kang, a detail that you noted as you were drawn from your thoughts. It enveloped you in a sense of security. You closed your eyes, and for a moment you had nearly forgotten how terrible everything was. You felt safe. You only indulged yourself in the sensation for a moment before you opened your eyes and forced yourself to look at the destruction below. You didn’t deserve to feel safe and comforted in a world that needed your help.

“I can’t believe it either.” You replied after a long, long moment. You didn’t know what else to say, because what else could you say? It was unbelievable to you as much as it was to him how awful things were, even after all your efforts. It felt like a perpetual punishment for something you’ve never deserved. None of you deserved this, and yet you were all saddled with the heavy responsibility of it.

The two of you stood on the rooftop, looking out at the horrors of the world for a long while. It wasn’t as if you enjoyed seeing it. Not at all, but you couldn’t bear holding a smile for the others right now. Being alone with Liu Kang was better for your soul at the moment. None of you spoke, either not knowing how to or unwilling to break the fragile silence that settled over the two of you. It wasn’t until you realized how much time had passed that the silence had been broken.

“I need to get going now.” You informed Liu Kang. “Nightwolf will be waiting for me.” You turned away, moving to walk away from the man. Then, you felt him grasp your hand. His grip was firm, but not harsh. Just enough to keep you there, but you could still shake his grip off if you needed. But you didn’t. Your gaze trailed up from the grip to his arm then settled on his face. “Liu Kang?”

“I-” He began. His hand trembled. For what reason you had no idea why. Worried, you turned to face him fully. You placed a hand upon his, trying to quell whatever had caused him to shake. His hand settled between yours. His gaze lifted, and for a moment that stretched into eternity, he stared into your eyes. There was a fire that seemed to burn in his eyes, then it slowly burned away into embers. A soft flush appeared on his cheeks, and it seemed he even stopped breathing. You rubbed the back of his hand with your thumb, trying to coax the words out of him. His hand twitched before squeezing yours. “I just want you to stay safe.”

You could tell immediately that isn’t what he wanted to say.

“I will.” You said, reassuring him. You didn’t know what he wanted to say, you just knew those weren’t the words he wanted you to hear. But you held no judgement for the man. He could tell you what he wanted to say in due time. There was no need to rush him. You simply smiled at him. You lifted his hand and pressed it to your chest so he could hear your heart’s beat. “This heart of mine won’t stop beating anytime soon, okay?”

A shy smile spread across his lips as he nodded. His gaze fixated on where his hand was spread upon your chest, feeling the steady heart beat.You could feel how his hand grew a bit warmer, a side effect you knew from him getting a little emotional, whether it be from sadness, joy, anything really. You stood there, letting him feel the reminder that you were alive for a few moments more.

“Alright.” You said, gently removing his hand. Though the man was tough as nails, you delicately removed his hand. You moved it down to his side before sending him a smile. “I’ll be back soon, hopefully with new recruits.” You assured him, giving him a nod. “You better stay safe too, okay?” You watched as the monk nodded slowly.

You left him on that rooftop, feeling the warm gaze of your friend follow your form as you descended down back into the base.

Waking up today was the first time in a few days where you did not feel mired in heavy emotion. That was not to say you didn’t feel at least a little somber, but you at least did not feel desolate. You didn’t think your bed could handle another frenzied episode. Your fingertips traced the sewn up areas a little guiltily. You were still hoping that it was enough to not make others not mad at you.

The last thing you’d want is to ruin the apparent fragile relationship between Outworld and Earthrealm over something silly like this.

You felt a little better at the idea that perhaps not all of your memories would be so heavy and dark. You swung your legs over the bed, and you moved through your morning routine with some grace. It was a small boost of confidence, but one you sorely needed. Maybe it was a little silly, but you didn’t linger on that type of thought process for long. 

As you stepped out of the bedroom, the last bits of your somber mood felt like they disintegrated when the sunlight touched you. You felt light, but there was still a slight chill in the air. It was hard to deny that you missed the warmth Liu Kang would give you within your memories. For a brief moment, you wondered if it would be silly to try and stand close to the god to feel if he had that same warmth. 

Right on cue, the familiar taps of princess Kitana sounded from the far hallway. As both of you made eye contact, you shared a nod in understanding. Both of you met halfway, falling into familiar step as you walked by her side. It felt familiar. You weren’t sure if it was because you’ve walked by Liu Kang’s side for years, or because of the implications of your memories that you might have walked by her side before.

It felt nice to have a companion to walk with, either way.

“I noticed you went around with the actor.” Kitana spoke, a tinge of amusement in her voice. You couldn’t tell whether she was amused at the idea of the actor, or you being with the man. “Or, rather, he dragged you around.” She quipped. You held back an exasperated sigh at the memory. Even the princess had noticed that?

“Yes, he was rather…” You trailed off, trying to think of the proper words to express your feelings without making a bad impression of the actor for the princess. “...persistent.” You watched her eyebrows raise, and she nodded. The very hint of a laugh left her lips. You blinked, you weren’t certain if that was the first time you’ve heard her laugh.

“I can attest to that.” She replied, a tone in her voice indicating that she understood, even if just a fraction, how stubborn Johnny Cage could be. “The actor would not leave me alone the day after the banquet.” She peeked over to you, a thoughtful look on her face. “Forgive me for saying that I had the thought to smack some sense into him.”

“I take no offense, I understand just how he is like.” You said, a laugh escaping your lips. “He’s rather stubborn whenever he wishes, but he has a good heart.” You said, hand raising to cup your own cheek. Your smile slipped into something that felt sentimental before it bounced back into its more friendly state. You shrugged causally. “Even if it isn’t apparent at first.”

“Such praises are more comforting coming from you rather than his own mouth.” Kitana said, and you could detect what you could only describe as a teasing lilt to her voice. You smiled warmly at it, and you saw how her own smile seemed to grow a little less professional and a little more genuine. It was like watching a flower blossom.

“I can imagine so.” You laughed, bringing a hand to muffle it. You could imagine Johnny bragging about himself to the princess, and her probably being annoyed at it. Or amused. Either way, you had a feeling that the impression he left upon the princess was not the one he desired. “I just hope he didn’t irritate you. Like I mentioned, he means well.”

“While he is persistent as any other who attempts to court me, he is far less brutish.” Kitana reassured you, making you feel a bit better about his flirting, “And, if anything else, he is amusing enough to listen to.” You let out another chuckle at the image of Johnny thinking he was wooing princess Kitana when in reality she thought him closer to a court jester.

“Don’t let him know that.” You informed her, making her quirk up an eyebrow. “He’s an…entertainer in Earthrealm. His ego would swell with pride at the idea that he at least amuses you.” You couldn’t tell if it was the trick of the light or not, but you swore you saw her roll her eyes at the premise of Johnny Cage’s ego swelling even more.

“I’ll keep that information in mind.” Kitana replied, a light tone to her voice. With that, the both of you arrived at the entrance to the Great Hall. She turned to look at you fully, a small smile still gracing her lips. “Enjoy watching the match.” She said, and you granted her the same sentiment. She walked off, content with your response.

To your surprise, Raiden and Kung Lao were not around yet, leaving only the fire god waiting in the Great Hall. You looked around. For a moment, you considered the possibility that you had arrived earlier. You then were quick to doubt that idea due to your walk with princess Kitana. She seemed to be very diligent on routine, so you doubted that you both would have walked out early.

“Where is Raiden and Kung Lao?” You inquired, moreso thinking about the former than the latter. It wasn’t like you didn’t fret over Kung Lao, it was just that the lack of Raiden appearing was strange. While Kung Lao was typically early, it wasn’t as if he didn’t allow himself to take more time to himself. Raiden, on the other hand, was always early. Almost to a fault.

“I am not certain.” Liu Kang replied, his voice calm. You looked over to see him composed as ever. He caught your gaze, giving you a small smile in return. Subconsciously, you found yourself standing near him. You noted the warmth he radiated. It was familiar, the same aura he had back in your memories. “I would not fret over it, I am certain they will be here in due time.”

“I know.” You said, and yet you found yourself biting at a thumbnail. Your gaze was cast downwards as you contemplated over the whole ordeal. “It’s just…odd.” You admitted. “He usually would be here by now. By he, I mean Raiden. Kung Lao sometimes shows up simply on time.” 

“Indeed.” Liu Kang nodded. You could feel his gaze still on you. It did not sear you, rather it felt gentle. It was much like how it would feel if you were to hover your hand over a candle to feel its warmth. “However, he is also not the type to show up late if it is an important event. I would not worry over it, it will simply cause more stress.”

“You’re right.” You replied. You felt called out at the last statement, but you knew it was for the best. After all, you weren’t the best at keeping yourself from not being stressed. It was supposed to be a friendly reminder. You took in a breath, straightening out your back before lifting your head up. You shouldn’t be stressed. 

A silence settled over the two of you. This silence was different from the comforting one you were used to. It was tense, like a string being pulled far too taut. You supposed it was your fault, you and your busy mind. That, and you've been finding it harder and harder to try and separate the man you remembered the god in front of you.

“Have you been enjoying your stay in Outworld?” Liu Kang spoke. His voice was soft. It was like a droplet of water falling into a still pond. It was so deliberate, so delicate, how he broke the tension. You turned your gaze, and saw the smile he sent your way. It was bittersweet, the way he smiled. It was exactly the same way you remembered. 

“I have.” You said. You weren’t keen on lying to the god, but you did feel a bit bad admitting it. You watched his face shift a tiny bit, but you couldn’t quite read if that had any significance. You turned away, finding it hard to see the way he smiled. “It’s very…different.” You told him. There was a hesitance to your words. 

Certainly you were struggling to find the right words because you didn’t want to make it seem like you were suddenly forsaking Earthrealm, but there was also something else to it. You enjoyed Outworld, you truly did. But you weren’t naive to blindly praise it to a god. There were, for all you knew, probably a darker side to this place.

The memory of seeing Shao Khan for the first time still lingered in your mind.

“I’m glad you have been enjoying it.” Liu Kang replied, a pleased tone to his voice. You felt his heat grow a little more. Curious, you glanced over to him to see he has stepped over a bit. He was standing so close that he was nearly brushing your arm with his own. “I hope you continue to enjoy your stay here.”

“How has your experience been for this trip?” You asked quickly, not wanting the tension to settle back in the air. You forced yourself to look at him, meeting those glowing white eyes. You wondered, just briefly, what caused the warm mortal eyes you once knew to become godlike. Was this just a new world where Liu Kang was deemed a god? Or was there more reason to it?

“It has been lovely.” Liu Kang said, seeming satisfied with the eye contact you gave him. “Not much has changed since the last hundred years since Outworld functions differently, but something about this time around has been more…” There was a pause as the god seemed to search the air for the perfect word to say. “pleasant.”

“I see.” You replied, but the words felt like a lie on your tongue. You understood the joys of being here, but not the reason behind why it was more enjoyable. The little voice in your head told you that you should know though. And you felt just a little dumb for not knowing the reason. Still, you kept the smile upon your lips. 

It was hard not to smile when Liu Kang was looking at you that way.

It didn’t take long for someone to show up. That person was Kung Lao. A broad smile spread across his lips as he sauntered in. As he laid eyes upon you and the god, his eyebrows raised as he looked around, probably searching for his fellow farmhand. When he did not see him, he walked over to you two and looked around once more, just to make sure.

“Where’s Raiden?” He asked, the confusion clear within his voice. You saw him cross his arms as once more, he scanned the room. He seemed more certain that his eyes were in the wrong rather than believe in the fact that his friend was simply not here. You supposed no one could blame him, you were just as unbelieving when you had arrived. 

“He's just a little behind.” You excused, trying your best to not show in your voice that you had felt the same way. You didn't want to cause a fuss. “I am certain he shall show in due time.” You saw the fire god nod in agreement, which only made sense since he had been the one to share that same sentiment. At your reassurance, you saw Kung Lao shrug nonchalantly.

“I guess so.”

Some more time passed, and despite your own words, you felt yourself getting antsy with every minute that the diligent man did not arrive. Kenshi had arrived at this point, sending the group a curious glance upon noting the disappearance of the champion. You felt your intertwined hands fidget and clench and unclench. The stare that Kenshi sent your way did not help either. He could do very well with being less obvious.

Finally, to relieve your worries, Raiden finally showed up with Johnny Cage at his side. You sighed as you walked over to Raiden. Your eyes raked over the man. He looked rather unkempt. His clothes were a bit of a mess, and his hat was a bit crooked. He seemed to be nearly on edge. Your tongue clicked as you reached out, adjusting his clothes and hat for him.

“You had us worried.” You admit softly, making sure that the man was presentable. After all, at this point, many of Outworld’s citizens were keeping an eye on Earthrealm’s strong champion. You sent him a small smile, trying to reassure him since you could see how tense he was on his face. You watched as his mouth opened to say something, probably an excuse, but you laid a hand on his shoulder to quiet him. “Hey, you’re here, that’s what matters. Plus, you’re not late either. Don’t worry about it, it’ll leak into your fighting”

“You’re right.” Raiden said, nodding slowly. You could see the nervous energy in him seem to melt away. His eyes closed as he took a deep breath in before releasing it. A small flush covered his cheeks, perhaps still from how he had rushed to get ready this moment. When he opened his eyes, he sent you a sunny smile that warmed your heart. “I will do my best.”

“I know you will.” You told him. You watched as Kung Lao handed over a few items for Raiden and Johnny Cage to eat. You could always rely on him for that. Raiden seemed most grateful at the gesture. Chatter among the group seemed to calm the former farmhand, and it was not very long until the usual proceedings occurred. 

“Young Raiden.” Sindel spoke, gazing down at Raiden. You were impressed with how she kept her smile seeming this warm and cordial despite the trend of her champions being taken down by Raiden no matter how the odds seemed. “You have…bested all the champions thus far with grace skill.” The empress commended, though there was almost a slight strain to her voice as she admitted it, it was very subtle, hardly noticeable. “Let us see if this next contender can match your might.”

Surprisingly, after being absent yesterday, General Khan was back to announce the next champion. 

“The next challenger is another one of my officers, Motaro.” The general spoke, his voice booming and echoing off the walls of the hall. The sound of hooves caught your attention, and you turned to see a centuarian walk into the halls. His stride was confident, and he walked in with his arms crossed. His gaze was tilted down already, almost glaring down at Raiden who was forced to look up at his opponent.

Despite being an officer, he lacked the same armor that both Kotal and Reiko had donned, being fully bare on his upper body. Only a silver belt concealing where a horse body fused into a human body was present as any sort of protection, and even then it was more decorative than anything. That is, until you spied the back of his horse body. A metallic tail more akin to a lizard’s was attached there. Your eyes lingered on the curve of his horns, finding them interesting. It seems that centaurians were not a simply a human fused with a horse body as Earthrealmers would believe.

You believe you’ve seen this man before, but whatever feeling you had was much weaker than it was for any other person you’ve met. Maybe this man was in your life for but a brief moment…still, if he was, it was strange your brain even felt like it recognized him. 

“Motaro is one of the centaurian’s finest.” General Shao bragged, seeming more enthusiastic to talk about Motaro compared to Kotal from the other day. Motaro lifted his head up to bask in the speech, an almost pleased look on his face. “With the tenacity of a bull and the might of one of the best warriors I have fought alongside, he is one of the best warriors in the legion.”

“Little man.” Motaro addressed Raiden curtly. He snorted as he continued to look down at the farmhand. His countenance returned to the look he had previously, but it was marred with a near sneer. His gaze felt nearly as sharp as his metallic tail did. You watched as Raiden took the comment in stride, bowing to his opponent, not fearing despite the size difference between them both.

“It is an honor to fight you.” Raiden told his opponent. You smiled at how polite he was to his opponents, even despite the lack of respect he was granted in return. Still, you wondered if that would remain that way in the future. While the thought of Raiden trying to smack talk his opponents was funny to think of, you hoped that nothing would hurt Raiden enough to take him in that direction.

Motaro’s fighting style was unique, suffice to say. His unusual body type, at least compared to what Raiden had normally fought against. He would charge in a brutish manner, using brute force to try and make the champion cower. Despite his bulk, he also maintained a lot of the battlefield control when Raiden tried to create space by being able to shoot projectiles from the metallic tail that you had spied earlier. 

Still, even with the trickiness of the fight, Raiden’s wit led him to victory. When he needed to close the gap, he would teleport behind Motaro. Due to Motaro’s body, he struggled to turn around and face the man before he was met with lightning that was strong enough to stagger even him. Sometimes, Raiden would realize that he would have to match the reckless nature of Motaro and surge right at him, catching the other man off guard.

It was no surprise to you to see that Motaro eventually collapsed. Taking deep breaths, Raiden looked down on his opponent, an ironic twist on the dynamic before. Except for Raiden, there was no hint of malice or disrespect in his eyes. Only warmth glimmered within his. 

“Thank you for the match.” Raiden told him humbly, a soft smile on his lips. You watched him reach out to try and attempt to help up his opponent instinctively. He almost seemed to flinch when he retracted it when Motaro denied the help. There was a mixture between a scoff and a huff from the centaurian, but ultimately he nodded before he walked off. You eyed the tail that almost seemed to drag on the floor, making a slight scratching sound.

“Congratulations on a well fought match.” You said, walking up to the once again successful champion. His smile seemed to grow as you walked towards him with a delighted expression. It was almost like seeing a child light up when you gave them the sweetest candy in the world. “Your technique is improving everyday.”

“I can only thank you, Lord Liu Kang, and the monks for preparing me for these moments.” Raiden replied, seeming to fall back onto his habit of being far too humble. You sighed and shook your head in disapproval of how he still didn’t consider his own skills into the fray. Still, it was endearing enough that you still smiled.

“Do not forget how much hard work you have also put in, Raiden.” Liu Kang reminded him, practically taking the words out of your mouth. You saw the god’s eyes flick over to you for a moment. Whether that was in reference to how you and Raiden had often stayed up late training or if it was a reference to how the god knew what was what you were going to say, you could not tell. 

“Yeah man, you killed it out there, even with sleeping in.” Johnny hopped into the conversation. You elbowed the actor at the mention of him sleeping in, maybe a little harsher than you should have after seeing how flushed the champion’s cheeks became. You heard the American clear his throat. “You gotta give yourself some credit, Raidude.”

“I will try.” Raiden said, a bit of hesitance in his voice. While it did seem to partially stem from the insistence from all of you that he should be giving himself more credit, you could also sense the hesitance coming due to the nickname Johnny had called him. You would never admit it, but the fact that even the kindest of your mentees seemed to hold a slight disdain towards the actor’s nicknames never failed to amuse you. Yet, all the same, the enthusiasm in him wanting to succeed and work hard on whatever his criticisms were shone through. 

After discussion with Liu Kang, like usual, your little group dispersed once more. For a moment, you swore you saw Kung Lao linger for a moment before he seemed to walk off with Raiden. You weren’t sure if your eyes were seeing things correctly, though. The man who did stick around was Kenshi, who soon found his way by your side.

“Ready?” The ex yakuza member inquired. His eyebrows were raised as he looked at you. The way he gazed at you seemed to tell you more words than he said, like how he was willing to wait for you if you weren’t. You supposed it only made sense, from what Kenshi had told you before, that the Yakuza would need to be subtle and communicate with others with even the slightest nod. Still, it was almost like a fresh breath of air compared to the others who seemed like an open book compared to the man beside you.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” You told him with a confident nod. Then, the both of you set off. The difference between the walk to Sun Do with Kenshi compared to Johnny was almost night and day. While it wasn’t completely silent, you both only had some chatter here and there. It didn’t feel like small talk, and comforting silence filled the air otherwise. 

You took this time to try and sneak some glances Kenshi’s way while he seemed to remain vigilant in staring on the path ahead. Out of all your champions, you considered the man beside you to be the one you understood the least. While you did attempt to get closer to the man through food, there was still a lot you had left to learn about him. He wasn’t as eager to dispense knowledge as the others, even if he wasn’t totally private about the past. 

The reason why Kenshi was so vastly different in this timeline compared to the other three was beyond you. It was a mystery you’ve been trying to unravel since you’ve met the man. His backstory was completely different, and the lack of powers he had previously made you question a lot about this life. Different backstories weren’t anything new, per se, but it was still strange how…different it was. From your memories of the world before, you could conclude that perhaps his lack of powers was from how he did not wield Sento. 

You’ve considered confronting Johnny about giving the swordsman the sword back, after all the actor had it for a rather petty reason, but you’ve never gotten too far in your plans. You couldn’t guarantee that talking to the actor would do any good, that man was rather stubborn, even in the face of reason sometimes. But there was also another reason you’ve held yourself back.

You were afraid that the sword would doom Kenshi to some kind of tragic fate. Your memories of Kenshi's previous story were hazy. You couldn’t tell if it was because you simply didn’t remember, or if it was because you never sought out to ask too much about it in the past. Either way, you were upset with yourself over it.

What you did know for certain, despite the lack of memories, was that in your previous life, he had been blinded due an incident that had something to do with the sword. Yes, he did gain powers that enabled him to be more than he was, but thought of losing his eyesight because of it and you potentially being the catalyst for that was more than you thought you could bear. It wasn’t as if you could warn Kenshi of the dangers, you’d sound insane.

Plus, you knew with the significance of that sword, your warnings might go unheeded. You had a sense that the ex yakuza member was selfless enough to be a martyr for the sake of his clan. The thought of him giving up his eyesight willingly squeezed your heart.

You were willing to craft a hat for Kung Lao, there were no flaws behind that as far as you could tell. But Kenshi’s weapon had a lot more weight to it. You wouldn’t know if the consequences behind that influence were the same, and if they would be less than the positives. There was a lot more to consider. Even if your decision that you would err on the side of caution, you still felt guilty that you could not help and provide the weapon that the man beside you craved.

“You’re glancing at me a lot, should I be flattered or concerned?” Kenshi inquired, snapping you out of your thoughts. You found that you were now meeting the swordsman’s gaze who held you with an intrigued look. With a scene that felt all too familiar, you felt your face heat up again. How you’ve let yourself space out and stare so obviously at your companion two days in a row, you had no idea.

“Flattered, I suppose?” You said, awkwardness soaking your words after you cleared your throat. You found yourself unable to maintain eye contact. Suddenly, the blue sky speckled with clouds seemed interesting. You felt your hand creep up to the side of your neck and press against it. Compared to the heat of your face, your hand felt like an ice cube. 

You didn’t know what excuse to say, or if you even should. Obviously, you couldn’t tell him the real reason why you were taking what you thought was sneaky glances. If you weren’t telling the god who took you in about your memories, you weren’t going to tell Kenshi. The issue was that now, you had no idea what excuse to even say, and you put yourself in a rather awkward situation because of it.

Despite this, it seemed that you didn’t have to. You heard a chuckle, and took a cautious peek to see Kenshi looking at you with a gaze that seemed free of judgement. His cheeks were tinged with pink. It seemed whatever excuse he had gleaned from what little you said satisfied him. You weren’t sure what his assumptions were, but at this point, you figured you were far too deep to ask what he thought it was.

This was the consequences of your lack of sneakiness, you supposed. You didn’t find yourself too upset though. It seemed to make him pleased enough, and that was enough for you. 

The rest of the walk to Sun Do left you feeling just a little lighter.

You both wandered into the city, deliberately leading him in a different direction you had gone with both Johnny and Raiden. You didn’t need to retread those places, you knew very well that you wouldn’t find the gift for Bi-Han you wanted in those shops. It would only waste precious time. You both went from shop to shop, peering at possible gift ideas with careful eyes.

Shopping with Kenshi was much different than the other two. With Raiden, he had been far too passive. He seemed to enjoy peering at the wares and agreeing with you more than scrutinizing the items. He4 didn’t provide any meaningful feedback in terms of whether the gift was appropriate or if it felt right. You didn’t blame him, you had a feeling he was far too elated by simply being in the heart of the capital. That, and he was the one who invited you to explore rather than shop. 

With Johnny, he had a completely different taste than you did. He often criticized your choices for being too “tame” or not flashy enough. Perhaps it wasn’t the worst opinion, you had gone for subtler gifts, but the gifts he offered before the ribbon had all been rather…gaudy and definitely didn’t fit the Lin Kuei. It was almost a miracle he had spotted the ribbon and offered it up.

Kenshi, on the other hand, was almost like the perfect shopping companion. His tastes seemed to align with what you were searching for, so that was a far better companion than Johnny. Not only that, but he was very inquisitive and seemed to take every comment you said to heart. You couldn’t resist a smile as you realized this nature was the exact reason why you had chosen Kenshi in particular to critique your cooking. 

“How about this?” Kenshi inquired, lifting up an intricate blue sash. You hummed as you leaned in close to peer at the fabric. You plucked the item that was draped over his hands, your fingertips brushing against the inked surface. You lifted up, studying the details. Then, you squinted at it more as you tried to imagine Bi-Han wearing this sash. Your nose wrinkled at the fact that you could not conjure up that image.

“I think we should stray away from accessories like this.” You concluded. “I don’t think Bi-Han would find himself wearing anything in accompaniment to his uniform.” You explained. The swordsman nodded as he took your words into consideration. You handed back the sash to him so he could place it back. With careful precision, he folded the sash before delicately placing it back into its former spot. Had you not known the man, you would have never guessed his dark past with how he carried himself in his actions. 

You scanned the area, looking for other ideas while Kenshi also perused the store. Nothing in particular for the grandmaster caught your eye. This store was mostly filled with accessories, which was not the type of gift you could imagine giving Bi-Han. And yet, despite this, something did catch your eye. You walked closer to get a look.

It was a set of five rings. Though they looked initially plain, the closer you inspected them, you saw the beauty within the craftsmanship. They were intricately engraved, small patterns dancing along the metal. But the part that caught the eye the most was the gorgeous gems set into each of them. Each one had a different color, gold, pink, blue, green, and red. You marveled over the rings and were pleasantly surprised to see that the rings had some minor magic, so they could be resized on their own. 

You looked and saw they had a special deal if you bought the whole set. Your eyes lingered on the rings for a moment more. How perfect this would be as a gift for your champions. A smile appeared on your face as you thought about it. You glanced back at the bag where you held your gold. Maybe if you had left over gold you could come back for these. 

“I don’t think this place has what I’m looking for.” You told the swordsman, striding over to him. You stood slightly in the way of the rings. You didn’t think he’d notice them since it didn’t align with the idea you had for Bi-Han. But still, you wanted to keep it a surprise, just in case. Luckily, it seemed that Kenshi hadn’t noticed where you had gone.

“I agree, especially since this place is geared towards accessories.” Kenshi replied. He nodded in the direction of the door, his hand gesturing for you to lead the way. You did just that, managing to glance back at the rings one last time. You knew that if you did, Kenshi would be likely to notice with how much he’s been noticing your stares. Then again, you supposed that’s because your stares towards the swordsman were rather…obvious. Still, you wouldn’t put it past him to notice the little things.

And so, both you and the ex yakuza member were back on the streets. But not for long. This time, Kenshi pointed out a shop. At first, you hesitated, gazing at all the porcelain cups and teapots. You weren’t certain if these ceramics would be an ideal gift, but then your eyes landed on a particular teapot set in the window. You were so fascinated by it that you stepped inside to get a better look.

The teapot set in question was delftware styled. The blue painted ceramic was decorated to be depicting a snowy wonderland with snow leopards as the main focus. Your eyes studied the set carefully, marveling over it. It had some gold accents around the rim, giving it that extra pop. It even came with a little tea pet, a snow leopard. At first, you couldn’t imagine gifting Bi-Han such an item, but the more you marveled over it, the more you couldn’t imagine giving him anything else.

“With the way you’re looking at that, I think I did my job.” Kenshi remarked, walking up next to you. You smiled over to him, and you saw on his face a very pleased expression. He crossed his arms as he took his gaze from you over to the set. “It’s miraculous how cheap these items are here, back in Earthrealm, these would be worth a fortune.”

“I can’t believe it either.” You agreed with a nod. You eyed the price. It definitely was cheaper than you would expect, but the quality didn’t seem terrible despite it. Looking at it for a few more moments, you nodded once more. “I think this is the one.” You told your companion. Kenshi hummed, his eyes lingering on your decided gift before pointing to something else. 

“While we’re at it, you should probably get him some tea.” The swordsman recommended. Your eyes landed on the displays of various teas they had. You walked over, noting how they felt similar in style to the dried teas you served for Madam Bo. On a closer look, some of the teas even appeared to be the same. For a brief moment, you wondered whether a long time ago Earthrealm had some of their teas imported here. It didn’t seem too far off an idea.

You scanned the various teas they had on display. For a moment, you considered picking a tea unique to Outworld. But then you considered how awful it’d feel to gift something that he might enjoy, but then never be able to savor once again in his lifetime. For that reason, you decided it might be better to chose something that he may be able to get at home. 

One particular tea caught your eye.

You grabbed the box of the high quality tea, inspecting it. You had never considered this to be made into tea. You couldn’t help but to smile down at the box, too amazed at the fact that tea was a thing. You held it up to show to Kenshi who quirked up a brow.

“Parsley tea?” He asked, eyeing the box carefully. His voice sounded skeptical. You shrugged, but you already knew that the moment you had laid eyes on this particular type of tea, you were going to buy it. Something within you simply told you that it just fit him. That, and you couldn’t deny that you were interested in how it tasted. From the look Kenshi gave you, he seemed to know you were already set in your ways.

With a little pep in your step, you walked over to the Outworlder at the counter. After discussing which set you wanted along with the parsley tea, you soon found yourself back onto the streets with a very nicely wrapped gift in your hands. As you were walking back, satisfied with your findings today, you spied the shop with the rings you had looked at earlier. 

“Could you hold this for a moment?” You asked the man. You swiftly handed him the gift and quickly walked off into the shop, ignoring the perplexed look the swordsman had sent you. You couldn’t blame him, you had said you only needed one more gift. 

Stepping inside, you were thrilled to see that the rings you had your eye on were still there. Elated, you quickly asked the clerk for the rings. The centaruian seemed more than happy to oblige, giving you a few boxes to carry them in. You slipped the gold one on, eyeing how the light seemed to reflect off of it perfectly. The rest you slipped into your bag. You wanted to keep them a surprise for now.

Checking the money you had left, you were delighted to see you had enough to buy one more gift. That would be reserved for Liu Kang. 

“Find everything you needed?” Kenshi inquired. He peered at you, his eye catching the sight of your new found accessory. You nodded, beaming happily at the man. You reached out, hands extended to take back the boxes. Despite this, you found the man pulled away from you, boxes clutched securely to his own chest. “It’s fine, I don’t mind carrying them.” He insisted.

“I don’t want to burden you with them.” You said, furrowing your brows. You made a reach for the boxes again, but the man simply side stepped your attempt. You sighed, placing a hand on your hip. “This is rather childish of you, Kenshi.” You chided, trying to see if you could convince him to give back the gifts. And yet, despite your words, the man was adamant. You sighed once more, shaking your head. “If you insist.”

“I do.” The swordsman quipped back, a victorious tone in his voice. You resisted an eye roll and made your way back to the palace. Once there, you led the ex yakuza member back to your room since he insisted on helping them carry them back all the way back there. As you finally regained the packages, you peered at him for a moment before opening your door. “Wait a moment for me, okay?” You asked.

You stepped into the room, placing your packages along with the other gifts you’ve bought. You removed the rings from the bags, admiring them once more. For a moment, you considered bringing them all in so you could give them at dinner time, but then you paused, remembering you hadn’t gotten Liu Kang’s gift quite yet and how awkward it might seem. Plus, you fancied the idea of giving the gifts privately. It would seem more personal that way.

“Thank you for waiting.” You said as you strode out. You placed your hands behind your back, hiding the little box. You supposed you were as sneaky as a toddler attempting to hide whatever mess they’ve made, because Kenshi quickly sent you a questioning look and leaned over to try and peek. “Here.” You handed over the box, scanning his features for his reaction. “A gift.”

“You didn’t have to.” Kenshi said, his voice shocked. He tried to hand back the box to you, but you pushed into his hands. After that, he relented. He scanned the box, probably trying to guess the present before he opened the box. You felt elated as you watched his surprised reaction to the ring. He lifted it up, watching with amazement as he slipped it onto his finger and it fit perfectly. “This is…” He trailed off, trying to find the right words.

“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” You remarked. You held up your hand to showcase your golden ring. “I thought this would be the perfect present for all of us.” You then gestured to the red ring. “I chose that color specifically for you.”

“Why red?” Kenshi inquired, looking between the ring on his hand and you. You smiled at him, a small laugh leaving your lips as you looked directly into his eyes.

“Simple. I think it matches your eyes wonderfully.” You explain to him. A soft flush appeared on Kenshi’s face, and he appeared to have been stunned into silence. His mouth closed, then opened, then closed once more. Then, a soft smile appeared on his face as his gaze cast downwards to the ring on his hand once more.

“Thank you.” Kenshi mumbled softly. You grinned at him and placed a hand on his arm. 

“No problem, I’m glad you like the gift.” You told him. “Now let’s go, I’m hungry.” You walked off, leading the way. You missed the fond gaze Kenshi sent you way, taking one more glance between the ring and you before following you.

Dinner went smoothly, and it was just as delicious as before. You were tempted to make plans to go shopping for some Outworld type of seasonings before you left so you could cook up some food the reminded you of this place. Maybe if you had left over money after Liu Kang’s gift.

It was yet another wonderful night in the garden. You basked in the moonlight as you waited patiently for the princess to emerge from the palace. You perked up as you heard the familiar sound of heels, and smiled as your eyes landed on the princess. 

Oddly enough, there was not the more prestigious and refined look that she usually held. Her face held something that reminded you of the first time you encountered her here. She seemed…upset. You raised your eyebrows as she drew near. When she noted you in the spot, her face shifted, masking her previous attitude with a smile.

It reminded you of Empress Sindel’s smile towards Raiden.

“Are you alright?” You inquired, testing the waters. You saw her smile strain, like a string being pulled nearly too taut. Her hands, which had been folded in her lap, squeezed together as if she were squeezing out her frustration. 

“I’m fine.” Mileena replied, her words clipped. You couldn’t sense any hostility within her words, but you could tell that asking about her situation would probably be unwise. You didn’t blame her, you weren’t that close after all. You nodded slowly, taking her attitude into consideration. “How have you been?” She inquired quickly, eager to divert the topic of conversation.

“I’ve been fine, I went and shopped more today.” You told her with a smile. You could read the signs of her frayed nerves and played along with her plan, changing the conversation away from herself. You saw her eyes dart to your hands. You looked down and saw the ring. You lifted your hand to showcase it, allowing her to get a better view.

“I can see that.” The princess observed. She leaned in closer, analyzing the accessory and how it fit on your finger. You saw her expression change slightly, going from a more fake look to a more genuine smile. She looked at it for a few moments more before leaning back and looking at you. “It suits you, you have a good eye.”

“Thank you.” You replied, staring down at the golden gem which shone so prettily in the moonlight. You smiled, still feeling the high of making a satisfying purchase. You paused, considering what to talk about next due to her slightly antsy mood. “How was your day, princess? I’m excited to see how you fare against Earthrealm’s champion tomorrow.”

“My day was alright.” Mileena replied, her eyes looking away into the garden. There was almost an empty tone to her voice, as if she were not telling the entire truth. She rolled her shoulders back as she cleared her throat. “I…” She began, then paused, her face scrunching a bit as she seemed to ponder on the words she would say next. “I am interested to see how I fare against him as well.” She replied, the same smile from earlier appearing on her lips. 

You couldn’t tell entirely, but you could sense the aversion towards the topic of fighting. Was it that she was nervous? You scanned her. No, it didn’t seem so. But the reason behind her distaste towards the topic was one you weren’t certain of.

You couldn’t quite ask her about it either.

“What story would you like to hear today?” You inquired, quickly changing the subject. You saw her posture relax a bit, and what must be a breath of relief left her lips. Very subtle actions, but actions you noticed. You suspicions were definitely correct, she had some type of issue with fighting Raiden, or the topic of it. 

“Anything light hearted would do.” The princess requested, the relief of the topic change showing on her face. You pondered on this, humming as you considered the various stories and movies you’ve seen. What could possibly cheer her up? You smiled as you recalled the first movie you saw and turned to face her.

“Alright, then how about this one?”

That night, you didn’t quite know why she was upset, but you knew you uplifted her spirits.

part sixteen

tagged - @bonezisded @lollipopin @simpxinnie @zhivaxo @koisuko

#mortal kombat x reader #kung lao x reader #liu kang x reader #reptile x reader #smoke x reader #sub zero x reader #scorpion x reader #bi han #liu kang #raiden x reader #johnny cage x reader #johnny cage #tomas vrbada #kenshi x reader #syzoth #mortal kombat #mortal kombat 1 #mk1 #fanfiction #mk1 x reader #mk x reader #shang tsung x reader #shang tsung #mileena x reader #kitana x reader #syzoth x reader #ashrah x reader #havik x reader #rain x reader

[oneforthemunny]

haunted home |mafia!eddie munson x reader|

prompt: mafia!eddie surprises you by decorating the house. an expansion off of this blurb :)

read the rest of the spooky stories series here!

contains: nothing really lol. fluff. mafia!eddie themes and you can read the rest of the mafia!eddie series here!

“No, no- fuck, Gareth! Are you fuckin’ blind?” Eddie’s voice carried through the doorway in an echo, bouncing off the marble floors, wrapping around you like the cold, autumn air behind the heavy doors. 

The dogs jumped around you, tails wagging, whining and excited at your arrival. Three days away, at your parent’s house for the weekend, and the boys had missed you. You had missed them. You missed Eddie too, more than you expected in the short time you were apart. 

“Eddie, if you want to fuckin’ do it-” 

“-I am fuckin’ doin’ it, and you’re fuckin’ doin’ it wrong!” Eddie’s voice boomed, rattling the crystals of the chandelier. 

Your brows furrowed, quiet, muffled steps over the ornate rug in the foyer, following the sound of Eddie’s voice. 

“Eddie, I am trying. I’m not a goddamn interior designer-” Gareth huffed. 

“-Clearly, you’re not.” Eddie scoffed. “Can you just look at the catalog?” 

“Eddie, I am looking at the catalog.” Gareth snapped. “Make Max do it. She’s the chick.” 

“Hey,” Max huffed, and you could practically see her snarl. 

“She’s not tall enough to reach the ceiling.” Eddie muttered. The cigarette smoke from the room met you before he did, that ashy, pungent smell burning your nostrils. 

You turned the corner, Eddie’s hand on his hip, ashing his cigarette. You didn’t like him smoking in the house, the smell lingered and always soured after it settled and made the dogs sneeze. Luckily, the state of your living room distracted you from that. 

The grand mantle over the fireplace had been transformed. Fake cobwebs, brooms, ghosts, fake spiders, and large candles that had wax rolling down the wicks, dripping dramatically onto the wood. Lanterns that gave an eerie, orange glow propped onto the side tables, bats hanging in the windows. Even the bearskin rug in front of the fireplace was festive, a small witches hat on the head of the growling bear. 

Gareth was on the ladder- the really tall ladder that always made you nervous when the house cleaner would dust the chandelier- glaring down at Eddie. “Couldn’t you just hire someone for this? Fuckin’ stupid- oh, wow.” Gareth’s eyes met yours, rolling his eyes. “There goes your surprise, Eddie. She’s here. Can I get down?” 

Eddie’s head turned, wide eyed- caught. “Baby,” Eddie choked, cigarette burning in his hand, ash flitting onto the ground. “You’re-You’re back early. What time is it? I-I thought you said six.”

“I got back early.” You looked at the decor around you. “What, uh… What have you been up to?” 

“Shit, it was supposed to be a, uh, a surprise.” Eddie muttered, bumming the cigarette in the tray, free hand running over his bangs. 

“Can I get down?” Gareth huffed, slapping the ladder with his hand, making you cringe. 

“No,” Eddie growled. “I saw that catalog you brought home the other day. The home one? I know I’ve been busy and shit, and-and we can’t decorate outside but…” Eddie rambled, arms lifting around him. 

Max watched you, bright eyes tracking you expertly. Eddie’s teeth clenched, heart lurching at your silence. “If you don’t like it, I can take it down. Fuck, this was stupid. This was stupid, wasn’t it? Goddammit. Gareth, get that shit down from there-” 

“-What?” Gareth boomed, eyes bulging from the ladder. “Eddie, what the fuck? We just put this shit up-”

“-So take it down!” Eddie roared, throwing his hands out. The dogs stood at alert, Vecna moving to Eddie’s side, Lucifer sticking to yours. 

You didn’t flinch, didn’t cower or shush the dogs. No, your eyes were wide, taking in every single detail. The boxes in the corner, bags from Melvald’s, happy pumpkins with smiling plastic faces that Eddie always snorted at. That you loved. That he had bought just for you. 

“Eddie, I am not taking this shit down. Get someone else to do it. Get Jeff or Dustin-” Gareth snarled, climbing down the ladder with heavy stomps. 

“-Gareth, I swear to fuckin’ God-”

“-You’re not gonna do shit, Munson! C’mon!” Gareth yelled, the dogs growling under his feet. 

“-You wanna bet, Emerson? I’ll shove you off this goddam ladder. Send you through the fuckin’ window if you-” 

“-Can both of you shut up?” Max huffed, face scrunching in annoyance at their bickering. Her eyes stayed on you, studying every quirk of your face. 

Eddie’s eyes followed her own, to you. His heart sank and raced at the same time. He hadn’t felt like this in years, not even when Billy’s guys had a Ruger in his face. Why was he so nervous? So anxious that he’d displeased you, disappointed you. 

“Baby, I can get all this shit down. I just…I thought you wanted it because you dog eared the page, but I shoulda asked you before. I was just wanting to surprise you.” Eddie muttered. 

Max watched you, Gareth’s face snarling in disgust at the softness in Eddie’s tone. “Munson, ew-” 

“-She likes it.” Max said, cutting Gareth off with a raise of her hand. 

Eddie’s eyes snapped to the redhead, flickering back and forth from you to his partner. “What?” Eddie hissed, brows creasing in confusion. “No, she doesn’t. It’s fine, I can just take it back-” 

“-No.” You shook your head, the lump in your throat strangling your voice. The bats and crows, you knew Eddie had chosen for the “creepy ambiance” he always liked to go for with decor. They were a stark contrast to the happy ghosts holding little pumpkins next to them. It made your nose burn with the threat of tears. 

“Max is right. I love it.” You nod, looking over at Eddie with a wobbling lip, a watery smile, eyes shining in pure adoration. 

Eddie felt that familiar blush creep through his chest, up his neck and to the very tip of his ears. “Really? I mean if you don’t, I can just get rid of it, and-and you can get whatever you want.” 

“No, Eddie, really. This is so,” You looked around the living room, at the cobwebs that were dramatic and stringy that Gareth was going to hang, tiny, plastic spiders sewn in. “This is perfect.” 

“Perfect.” Gareth grinned, smug, a little mocking in his tone. “See, Ed, you were freaking out for nothing.” 

“Shut up, Gareth.” Eddie hissed, his tone dropping and changing to menacing in a beat. Gareth just snorted, unfazed by his mood change, too used to it. “Just… Get the fuck outta here. Both of you. Gimme some space.” Eddie waved his hand. 

Max followed behind a smirking, smug Gareth, shutting the heavy front door behind them, the click of the latch echoing through the living room, rattling off the high ceilings. 

Eddie took slow, calculated steps behind you. “You don’t have to act like you like it.” He muttered in that soft, gentle tone that was reserved just for you. “I’ll take it back.” 

“No,” You shook your head, grabbing at his hand blindly, finding it easily and holding it in yours. “This is… This is just… I can’t believe you did this for me.” You smiled, the tears brimming in your water line. 

“What d’ya mean? Hey, don’t cry. Shit, I didn’t mean to make you cry.” Eddie cooed softly, pushing Lucifer back when he guarded you, hands grabbing at your waist, pulling you into him gently. 

“Why’re you crying?” Eddie muttered, curls brushing against your forehead, tickling at your collarbones when he dipped his head towards yours. You could still smell the nicotine on his breath, soothing you with the soft coo. “What’s the matter, hm? You don’t like it?” 

“Eddie, no, I love it.” You mutter, resting your head against his gently. “You didn’t have to do all this for me. I-I know you can’t decorate-” 

“-I can do whatever I want.” Eddie said firmly, hand cupping your jaw, holding your gaze in his. “It’s my house. I wanted to decorate it for you.” 

Heat rushed to your cheeks, turning into his palm, your own hands enveloped over his. Diablo nosed at your knee, watching you carefully.

"And, ya know, it is my favorite holiday." Eddie shrugged, dimples creasing when you giggled.

“Thank you.” You beam, pressing a delicate kiss into his calloused hands. “It’s perfect, really. Too much, Ed, you didn’t have to do all of that. I had some in my storage I could use.” 

“No, it’s no big deal. I wanted to get it for us, for the house, y’know?” Eddie shrugged, soft lips pressing to yours, a gentle, sweet kiss that had you both melting into each other. 

You pressed your cheek against Eddie’s chest, arms around his waist, looking at the decorations. “This is really nice, Ed.” 

“Yeah? Spooky enough for you?” Eddie grinned, squeezing your hips gently. “I just gotta put up the webs and shit on the chandelier. Gareth was being such a fuckin’ bitch about it.” 

“I can help you put it up.” You offer, looking at the pile on the coffee table. 

“Nah, I’ll get someone to do it later. Wanna hear about your trip.” Eddie hummed, pulling you into his lap onto the couch.

#oneforthemunny #oneforthemunny spooky stories #eddie munson halloween #mafia!eddie munson #mafia!eddie munson x reader #mafia!eddie #mafia!au #mafia au #mafia!eddie x reader #eddie munson au #eddie munson au #stranger things #eddie stranger things #stranger things 4 #eddie x fem!reader #eddie my love <3 #eddie x reader #eddie munson #oneforthemunny blurbs #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x fem!reader fluff #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you

[kingkatsuki]

Trying to find condoms in the Abyss is an on-going struggle, especially when you end up being scammed for your last pack of smokes. But it’s okay, because Enjin’s pull out game is strong right. Right?

Why is it never just a drabble when it comes to him😫

Pairing: Enjin x f!reader.

Warnings: 18+, unprotected sex, thigh fucking, you tell Enjin to pull out (and he’s doing his best), creampie, cunnilingus, fingering, one spank, dirty talk, cum swapping, spit.

Word Count: 3.8k.

“Fuck,” Enjin groaned when he picked up his bag from the floor, holding the worn condom pack between his slender fingers.

You would’ve burst out laughing at the dejected look on his face as he crouched completely stark naked on the floor if it wasn’t for the realisation that yet again he’d purchased a dud fucking condom. Your cunt clenched pathetically around nothing as you became resound to the fact that you weren’t having sex tonight— especially not now.

“I swapped a pack of smokes for this shit,” He grunts, his cock bobbing in the air as he still attempts to pull the dry condom over his bulging head.

Enjin had been elated when he’d finally found a seller in the next town over, having spent way too long hunting for any discarded plastics in the trash heaps outside. Honestly he’d probably have more luck if he tasked Rudo to do the job, although it seemed far more seedy to employ him to do Enjin’s dirty work. Having to explain to him what the condom was even for would be a conversation for another fucking day, and definitely not something you’d ever want to be a part of.

You were certain he’d put his foot on the gas a little harder than normal to try and get you both home as quickly as possible. Making eyes at you through the rear view mirror from where you sat beside Tamzy as he willed the drive to hurry up. His final few fragments of resolve already cashed in when he stopped himself from bending you over in a dingy alley to take you where you stand back in the last town.

You’d barely had time to take your shoes off in Enjin’s room before he was hurriedly tugging all his clothes off, getting his arms and head stuck in his shirt as he tried to shrug it off to the side. Jumping from toe to toe as he kicked off his boxers, revealing his heady cock to your prying eyes as you pulled your own clothes off. His feet still covered with socks as he hunched over his forgotten clothes, unwrapping his prized condom.

Your cunt throbbed at the crude sound of him spitting down on his length in an attempt of makeshift lube as he tried to roll the latex along his girth, head hung low in concentration as he held his cock at the base.

This wasn’t the first time this had happened to either of you. Protection and birth control were a commodity in the Abyss and it meant that the items were hard to come by. Often waiting for the Heavens to throw leftover items down below, or using the homemade methods that had varying effects and levels of reliability. The last time this had happened Enjin hadn’t left you unsatisfied, tonguing your clit until your eyes were rolling back into your skull and your toes were curling.

“Fuckin’ piece of shit,” Enjin grunted as the condom split over his cock, the swollen pink tip now poked out the top of the latex as he knelt on the floor. Lips curled into a childish pout as this time you couldn’t help but laugh at the scene in front of you, his poor neglected cock bobbing in the air.

“It’s not funny, baby.” He groaned, “Do you know how long it’s been?” Or how much galla he’d wasted trying to procure these. If he got back to that town and found the guy that sold him the dud condom it was gonna be on fucking sight—

You were fully aware, and so was your neglected cunt that throbbed pitifully. Feeling his mattress dip as he came to settle between your parted legs, warm palms smoothing along your inner thighs as he stared down at your glistening folds. Living at the Cleaners compound made it difficult to get many moments alone, from Riyou sneaking in through your bedroom window at all hours, to Rudo interrupting in the common areas and even Zanka had walked in on the pair of you one too many times. The few messy fumbles in the van outside weren’t enough to keep either of you satiated for long, and the erotic books Semiu recommended you did nothing to help soothe the desire running hot like molten lava through you.

“Do you know how much he misses being inside you?” Enjin dragged the leaking tip of his cock through the mess between your thighs, your hips jolting when the head nudged against your puffy clit, “He wants to feel this pretty pussy wrapped around him— see.”

“You’re such a dork,” You shook your head, scrunching your nose at the way Enjin referred to his cock.

“But you love me for it,” He gave you a toothy grin as he tapped his drooling cockhead against your mound before letting the weight of it hang low as he hovered over you to press a sensual, open-mouthed kiss to your lips.

Enjin’s fingers brushed through your folds, collecting your slick on them as he pushed two inside you. Barely enough to make you feel full as he curled them inside you, prodding at the spongy spot inside you as you rolled your hips into his touch. His thumb teasingly flicking your clit side to side as you leaned into his touch, but it wasn’t enough—

You could feel his cock nudge your thigh, leaving silvery lines of pre against your skin as you raised your knee to press against it. It wasn’t enough, you needed more. Swallowing his moans in your throat as you felt him break the kiss with a grin, reaching down to hold your thighs together as he pushed the tip of his cock between them.

“You’re to pretty like this, you know that?” He hummed as he started fucking your thighs, the underside of his cock brushing against your slick folds with every roll of his hips as he towered over you.

Your hands reach up to mould your tits, pinching and tugging at your stiff nipples as you tried to give yourself some added stimulation. The graze of his shaft against your clit was barely enough to have you close, the pleasure ebbing inside you was becoming far too intense as your poor neglected hole throbbed pathetically around nothing.

“Put it in,” You whined, delirious from pleasure as you tried to shift your hips. Spreading your thighs to give him room to slip his drooling cock inside your wet heat.

“What?” Enjin stopped his thrusts abruptly, unsure he’d heard you right, “What did you say?”

“Fuck me, Enjin. Please.” You pout, trying to coax him inside your unprotected hole, “It’s not enough.”

“That’s too risky, sweetheart. I haven’t got—” Enjin swallowed thickly, Adam’s apple bobbing as he glanced down between your bodies to look at your tight heat. Your desperate hole fluttering around nothing as he thought about the way you felt when he stretched you open, fucking you into the shape of him.

“It’ll be fine.” You brushed his doubts away, shifting your hips as he kept his grip against your thighs, your cunt still angled in the perfect position for him to slide right in—

“You’re not on birth control.” You can tell his control is wavering, the excuses few and far between as you feel the length of his cock pressed firmly between your thighs. Coating himself in your messy slick, it would be so easy to just reach between your thighs to push him inside.

“So you can just pull out.” You deadpan, as though it’s the most obvious answer in the world.

Just pull out. As if it was that fucking easy.

“That ain’t a reliable method of contraception, sweetheart and you know it.” You were frustrated now, huffing at his objections as he sounded like one of the textbooks from Korvus’ study.

“We’ll be fine.” You pressed, wide eyes practically pleading with him as you jut your lower lip out for good measure. You reached between your thighs to press the tips of your fingers against his heavy cock, smoothing the fresh bead of pre that oozed from the tip along the soft head.

“Oh yeah?” Enjin raised a brow, his chest concaving when you teased his cock, “Do you not remember what happened last time?”

The last time you’d had unprotected sex, you’d had a scare that resulted in Enjin searching trash piles for the chance of finding a pregnancy test. The futile search ended with you sat in front of the doctor being told that you weren’t pregnant, a result that Enjin still had to foot the bill for— but the stress and panic that came along with it were priceless.

“We shouldn’t risk it.” He shook his head, spreading your thighs apart, “I’ll still make you cum, baby.”

“Enjin, please,” You were whining now, but you didn’t even care, “Just pull out.”

It was cute that you trusted him enough to be able to pull out once he felt your warm, wet walls wrapped around his cock. Especially without the security and safety of that pesky latex barrier that always got in the way, and pinched around the base of his cock to stop him from feeling every inch of you.

His resolve was crumbling in front of you, and you could tell. Your fingers push down on the fat tip, dragging it through your messy folds as it caught against your tight hole. Gasping in satisfaction from the contact as you curved your hips, trying to angle them to dip him further inside. Your fluttering, unprepped hole practically inviting him in.

Just one slight buck of your hips and he’d practically be inside you. Stealing the air from your lungs when his swollen cockhead finally breaches your tight hole.

The stretch was intense. A high pitched mewl escaping your lips as you felt him begin to stretch you open, your cunt swallowing him as he rut his hips instinctively. Burying more of his length deeper in your pliant walls, eyes focused on the way you sucked him in as he disappeared inside you.

Fuck. Enjin grunts, watching you take him inch by inch as your warmth engulfed him. He’d forgotten how good you felt like this, and this was the exact moment he realised what a terrible idea it was. At this rate he wouldn’t even be able to stop himself as he felt you pulse around him. Tightening his grip on your hips as he released the breath he didn’t even realise he was holding, certain he’d leave bruises in his wake as he stared down at the debauched sight beneath him.

Canting your hips pathetically as you tried to move beneath his harsh grip, doing nothing but pressing the thick tip against the spongy spot inside you as you ground yourself against his cock. At this rate he won’t even last a couple of measley thrusts, so Enjin knows he should pull out— to stop this before it goes any further.

But it had already gone far enough— when your warm hands grab for his shoulders and try to pull his frame down on top of you. The movement only serves to bury his cock even deeper inside your pliant walls as he chokes back a groan, and he starts to wonder why he’s even trying to stop you when the damage is surely already done.

“Oh, fuck. Baby,” He groans as he styles for a moment, cherishing the way your silky walls cling to him with no barriers, no limits.

“Fuck me please, Enjin.” You mewl, “I need it.”

And who is he to deny you?

He’s feral, using the harsh grip on your hips to slam you down on his cock. The rough hairs at the base tickle your clit with each downward motion, your slick mattes into it as you soak his length. Drooling down his balls as you cherish the sensation, trying to remember the last time he felt this good.

“So pretty, baby.” He coos, the shlick pap, pap, pap of his hips against yours fill the dingy room as he fucks into you with urgency. His chest heaves as he feels every inch of you pulse around him, coaxing him in and spurning him on as he sets a brutal pace.

It really has been way too fucking long.

Enjin is certain he’s going insane, delirium takes over as he feels you writhe beneath him. Focused on the way your tits bounce with each rough thrust as a feeble ‘oh’ leaves your lips every time he pushes back inside you, like a record stuck on repeat as he drives forward to pull the sound from you.

“You feel so good, Enjin,” You husk, “So fucking deep.”

Every ounce of restraint has left him now, and his balls are dangerously tight already. Throbbing at the prospect of emptying themselves into your warm, drooling heat. But he’s got to be good, he’s got to show restraint. Everything will be fine, he’ll be able to pull out like this and empty his release onto your stomach.

Enjin is certain there’s nothing in this world or all of the Heavens that feels as good as your warm, wet unprotected cunt feels wrapped around his thick cock. He leans down to pull one of your taut nipples between his teeth, lashing his tongue against it as he begins to suck hard. He feels the way your body responds to him, cunt clenching around his cock as more sinful noises slip past your lips.

“Oh my god,” You cry out, you always were so fucking noisy, positive the rest of the compound would be able to hear you “I’m close already.”

Enjin pushes two fingers inside your mouth in a feeble attempt to silence you, pressing down on the pad of your tongue as you pant hard. Closing your lips around them as you suck against his digits, doing nothing but exasperating the throb in his pelvis as he imagines your pretty lips wrapped around his cock.

“Fuck, cum inside me please,” You babble incoherently, drunk on pleasure as the words are muffled by his fingers.

“That ain’t what we agreed.” He practically spits between clenched teeth because how is he supposed to deny you when you sound like that. His cock throbs in agreement with you, and Enjin is certain he’ll have to pull out now before it’s too late. He gives the side of your thigh, just below the swell of your ass a firm spank as you throb around him, “Stop being naughty.”

Enjin’s certain he could do anything to you when you’re like this now. So completely fucked out of your mind, completely intoxicated with arousal. You’d let him cum wherever he pleased without the faintest thought of the dangerous repercussions, burying his cock inside you to kiss your cervix as he douses your pliant walls with his spend. Pulling out to watch it drool from your abused hole before fucking it deeper inside you and filling you again, and again. Until your cunt is stuffed full and drooling with the soppy mixture of your combined releases. Until it all becomes too much and you’re begging for him to stop—

Fuck, he’s got to pull out now or he won’t at all. Enjin’s breath fans your face as he fists the sheets on either side of your head. Leaning his weight off you as he moves his hips back, hissing at the loss of contact.

“Please,” You gasp when you feel him begin to pull out, your thighs tighten around his hips as you lock your ankles behind his ass. Your painted nails dig into his broad shoulders as you cling to him for dear life, even your cunt feels tighter as Enjin chokes back a moan.

“You’re not behaving,” He bites through clenched teeth, hands move to your hips to hold you down in a feeble attempt to make you obey, “You’re being a brat.”

His blunt cockhead brushes your cervix as thick tears clump in your lashes, blinking them back to stare up at him with pleading eyes. Dangerously close to your bliss as you find yourself teetering on the edge of your release.

“Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck.” You chant in a dull mantra as your cunt tightens around him, practically trying to milk him of his release as Enjin is positive now your hips will be bruised from how hard he’s gripping to them.

“You said—” He snarls, trying to stop his final string of willpower from snapping.

“I know, I know,” You whine, “But I need it, please.”

How is he supposed to deny you now?

He cants his hips forward, feeling your thighs tighten around him even more as they limit his movement. Barely able to grind against you as the blunt tip of him spears the spongy spot inside you with each rough thrust. He’s losing his mind, he’s certain of it, from how fucked out you look beneath him.

“You need to let go, sweetheart,” He grunts, trying one more time to pull back from your tight cunt, his hands grip your thighs to try to loosen your grip, “I’m fuckin’ close.”

“No!” You tighten your grip in retaliation, shaking your head, “I want it, please—”

You’d sign his death sentence one day, he’s certain of it. Your fingers move down your tummy to rest over your mound as you press sloppy circles into your clit. The tips of your nails catch against the matted hair at his base as he tilts his head to watch your debauched movements, feeling the way you begin to clamp down around him when he knows you’re about to cum.

"Enjin, I'm gonna— I'm cumming,” And you do— you cum hard.

And then he fucking loses it.

“Fuckin’ shit—” Enjin’s hips buck wildly as the last bit of resolve he’s been clinging to crumbles to nothing, “You little minx.”

As soon as he feels your walls begin to clamp down around him, he’s a goner. Eyes roll back into his skull as he spills thick white ropes of cum deep inside your unprotected cunt. His hips buck wildly as he’s lost to the pleasure, your walls eagerly milking him of all he’s got to give as he fucks his spend deeper inside you. Inside your ripe, fertile womb.

“Oh, fuck. Oh, shit.” He snarls, blunt painted nails dig into your hips as he holds you steady, emptying his balls inside you as he coats your insides. Leaning down to press a sloppy kiss to your pouty lips as he gives you every last drop, so much that it leaks down his shaft and balls and onto the sheets beneath you.

“This is your fault.” He groans as your thighs finally go lax, allowing him to slip his softening cock from your pulsing walls as he looks down between your thighs at the mess you made. He refuses to blame himself for this, especially when it’s all your fault.

It’s obscene. The way his cum drools out of your abused hole and trickles down towards your ass, pooling on the sheets between your legs as Enjin wonders how that’s all his. It can’t be, some of it has got to be you too. The creamy rings around the base of his cock evidence of your arousal as he leans down closer to spread your folds open with his thumbs. Watching intently as your stretched hole continues to pulse around nothing as it pushes more of his seed out.

“Enjin, don’t.” Your hips jerk when he presses two slender digits inside your entrance, shamelessly fucking his cum back inside you with his fingers as he scoops some up that drooled down towards your asshole. Next time he’d fuck you there so he doesn’t have to worry about you being all round and plump with his child— not that that would even be the worse thing in the world, he ponders. His spent cock already stirs to life at the thought, half hard and throbbing at the prospect as he settles himself lower. Wrapping his arms around your upper thighs as he presses a wet, open-mouthed kiss to your puffy clit.

“Fuck, I’m too sensitive.” You whine as he tongues your slit, following the trail of your release as he prods it inside your worn hole. Pushing it inside you to scoop out the globs of his release as he sucks it into his mouth, nose bumping your clit as your fingers immediately thread through his messy blond hair.

There’s just so much, he’s definitely going to have to take you to the Doctors the next morning he thinks. Nudging your clit with his nose as he adds a solo finger to join his tongue, scooping as much of his seed from your quivering hole as he can while he works you towards another climax.

“Enjin,” You cry out in bliss, toes curling as you gush around him. Trying to blink back the white spots that cloud your vision as he presses a few more sloppy kisses to your overstimulated sex, thankful that he’s managed to get most of his spend from your weeping hole although he’s certain it’s not enough.

Moving up your body to grip your jaw between his thumb and forefinger as he forces your mouth open, puckering his lips as he spits a mixture of spit and your combined release onto your tongue. Feeling the depraved mixture hit the back of your throat as you swallow it eagerly, tasting him on your tongue as desire begins to swirl in your abdomen once more. Noticing his cock is still half-hard and glistening with your slick as you reach down to wrap your palm around him, but Enjin’s reflexes are quicker as he catches your wrist in one hand.

“Don’t you dare,” He groans, “You’ve already got us into this much of a mess. We’re going to have to go to the Doctors first thing.”

“So,” You practically sing as Enjin flops down onto the worn mattress beside you with a huff, already knowing exactly where this is going, “If we have to go anyway, we might as well make the most of it.”

You’re already shifting beside him to swing your thigh over his hips to settle on top of him with a smug grin. His cock nestled below your warm heat as you drag yourself along the length of him, “Think about the money you’ll save on condoms.”

Yeah, and all the galla wasted on emergency contraception, Enjin groans internally.

Although his thoughts are swiftly forgotten the moment you wrap your hand around the base of him to sink yourself down on him inch by inch. Suddenly he’s not so angry that he got sold a dud condom, not when he feels the way your silky walls cling to every inch of him as you hit the base.

Yeah, it was worth it.

#enjin x reader #Enjin smut #gachiakuta x reader #Gachiakuta smut

[pascalispretty]

Come Take It Out On Me

Javier Peña x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 2034

Warnings: enemies to lovers, snark, bondage, softly dominant Javi, oral sex (f receiving) (Javier Peña eats pussy like a champ), teasing

Summary: You and Javier may not know how to talk, but you certainly know how to fuck. (ao3)

Notes: Written for the lovely @survivingandenduring for the Space Sister's Valentines! The first fic I ever wrote on here was Javier Peña and enemies to lovers, and your prompt was such an inspiration to revisit that whole vibe. Also the song 'Good in Bed' by Dua Lipa was a major inspo. I hope you enjoy! (also unbeta'd because I cracked a bone in my foot, pls be gentle).

It’s late when you get back to your apartment. You had taken yourself out for a drink after work, dressing up in a tight black dress and a swipe of red lipstick. But the admiring looks and offers to buy you another drink irritated you more than they flattered you. Instead, you had made your way over to a payphone and punched in an all-too familiar number.

“Hey, Peña. You wanna come over and fuck?”

Not particularly subtle, but it got the message across.

Back home, you pour yourself a drink and settle in to wait. Your heels are pinching your toes, so you kick them off. You’re vaguely aware of the room becoming warmer, the heat clicking on as the temperature drops.

You’re topping up your wine when there’s a loud knock at the door. You nearly roll your eyes when you open it. Javier Peña has his arm braced against the doorframe, leaning into it like he’s posing for an advertisement for the tight Levi jeans he’s wearing.

“Hello, Javier. I was starting to wonder if you’d forgotten about me,” you tell him, lifting your wineglass to your lips. He takes it out of your hand in a smooth gesture, draining it and shoving it back into your hand as he walks into your apartment.

“I wish,” he mutters, pausing to light a cigarette and helping himself to a glass of scotch from your bar. “I was late at the embassy; a knot needed untangling that had ‘CIA’ written all over it. The Castaño brothers seem to think you’ll hand them the whole country.” You top up your wine, smirking at him over the rim of the glass.

“You have a very misguided perception of what we do, Agent Peña. It’s not all toppling governments and hobnobbing with dictators.” Sitting on the armchair across from him, you tip your glass in a mock toast.

He sits with his legs spread apart, the tight jeans hiding absolutely nothing as he watches you. The silver-blue haze of his cigarette smoke hangs in the air between you, giving his features a strangely soft edge.

“Well, if anyone could find common ground with a dictator it would be you.”

“And yet, you’re here. What does that say about you?” You ask, raising an eyebrow at him. It almost always starts this way. The two of you can’t seem to help needling at one another, determined not to let a jab go unanswered. He’s too holier-than-thou for your liking sometimes, pretending that the DEA’s hands are so much cleaner than that of the CIA.

Unfortunately, somewhere along the way, the two of you discovered that all that tension somehow translated into pretty phenomenal sex.

“It says that payday is at the end of the month, and I can’t afford my usual.” Peña says, his mouth curving into a smirk. “Besides, you buy the good stuff.” He drinks more of his drink, pulling the ashtray closer with his free hand. You appreciate that even though he doesn’t particularly like you, he draws the line at ruining your rug.

“What can I say, I appreciate quality.” You say nonchalantly. “Which is why you’re here right now, and not some random stranger who couldn’t find a clitoris with a map.”

“We all have our talents. Are you going to sit over there all night? Even I might have trouble finding it from that far away.” He says it casually, but you know him well enough by now to pick up on the undercurrent of need in his voice.  He’s not alone. That annoyingly familiar need had been making itself known in the pit of your stomach all night, that insistent itch that only Agent Javier Peña could really scratch.

You uncurl from the armchair, setting your wine down on the table. Javier looks up at you with those beautiful dark eyes as you settle into his lap. The seams of your dress strain to accommodate his body between your thighs, and you swear you hear a few stitches popping.

Up close, you can breathe the scent of him in. The leather of his jacket and the tobacco of his cigarettes mixes with something heady and masculine and him. You have no other word for it. You imagine that it would sell like crazy if somebody managed to bottle it as a cologne.

“Is this better?” You ask softly, looping your arms around his neck. He nods, eyes trailing down your body, lingering on the neckline of your dress.

“The view has improved.” He leans closer, pressing a soft kiss to the curve of your breast where your dress leaves it exposed. His moustache prickles the sensitive skin, his lips quick to soothe the scratch.

Your fingers slide into his thick hair. He’s still holding his glass and his still-lit cigarette, so after a moment he pulls away.

“I’d rather not light your rug on fire,” he says, leaning around you to flick the butt of his cigarette into the ashtray. With his now-free hand, he cups one of your breasts, squeezing gently. “You should wear dresses like this more often.”

“I’m sure that’d go down really well at work,” you tease, sucking in your breath as he hooks his index finger into the neckline, tugging it down further. The lace of your bra peeks out, the red vivid against the black of your dress.

Peña ducks his head again, trailing more kisses across the newly-exposed skin. Every brush of his lips is only making you wetter, even if he’s not doing much to encourage it. Bastard.

Though it’s not wholly unfair. You can feel him starting to harden underneath you, and you can’t help rocking your hips against him in encouragement. He nips at the curve of your breast, before leaning back.

“Take your dress off.” He gives you a little nudge with his hand, as if he wants you off his lap.

“So bossy, Peña,” you sigh, letting your nails scratch his scalp. You feel the shudder that runs through him, but he’s persistent.

“You like it when I’m bossy. Get up, and take your dress off.” He’s right. He might not know how you like your coffee or when your birthday is. But if there’s one thing Javier Peña knows, it’s what you like in bed.

You slide off his lap reluctantly, standing in the small space between the couch and the coffee table. While he finishes the dregs of his drink, Javier runs his eyes over you. There’s something so hungry in that look, like he’s deciding where to begin with a delicious feast.

The dress zips in the back, and you have to twist awkwardly to catch at the tab. With another man, it might make you feel self-conscious. But with Javier, all you can see is the want in him. The fabric loosens around your shoulders as you undo the zip, and you shrug the dress off in one fluid motion.

Peña casts an appreciative eye over your lingerie, leaning forward in his seat. When he reaches to set his glass down on the coffee table, he shifts so close that his hair nearly tickles your abdomen. A soft, disappointed sound escapes you when he doesn’t touch you, when he doesn’t take the opportunity to haul you back into his lap. Instead he just looks up at you, a hint of a smile on his lips.

“Gorgeous,” Javier murmurs, almost to himself. With one last lingering sweep down your body, he stands up. There’s barely an inch between you, your calves bumping against the edge of the coffee table as you shift back to accommodate him.

“Take me to bed?” You ask. Peña doesn’t say anything for a moment. One of his large hands comes up to cradle your jaw with a gentleness that never fails to surprise you. His fingers are warm on your skin, and you find yourself melting into his touch once more.

“Bed,” he agrees, his thumb gently sweeping over your lower lip before his hand drops back to his side. You lead him towards your bedroom, even though he knows the way by now. He’s been here more times than you can count.

At the threshold of your bedroom, Javier loops his arms around your waist. Your back moulds against his chest, his nose brushing your temple as he leans to whisper in your ear.

“Do you want the belt tonight?” He murmurs, and you nearly melt into a puddle at his feet. The belt is something Javier indulges you in occasionally. He’d drawn a hard line at bringing his handcuffs into the bedroom. The two of you had compromised with softer things; a silk scarf, his ties, a pair of stockings. And, of course, his belt.

“Yes please.” Your eyelashes flutter closed as Javier presses soft kisses down the line of your neck, humming contentedly against the skin. His clever fingers have your bra undone before you realise he’s moved his hands, and you let him slip it off you without complaint.

One of his hands moves to your waist, encouraging you to turn around. Every brush of his fingertips sends more warmth pooling in your core, the gentle brushes of his skin against yours making you shudder. Without him having to ask, you offer him your wrists.

Peña takes his belt off with one hand, a move that you’re almost certain he’s practised. It’s so attractive that you don’t even tease him about it. Instead, you find yourself taking a shaky breath as he loops the soft leather carefully around your wrists.

You could slip out with ease if you wanted to – it’s part of the reason Javier agreed to the belt as a compromise when you’d asked him to tie you up. You’re at a loss to explain why the buttery leather around your wrists makes you feel so good. Satisfied that it’s not too tight around your wrists, Javier gives you a small, but unmistakable, smile.

With a gentle push of his hand on your waist, Javier encourages you backwards until you’re lying on the bed, your arms stretched above your head.

“Que bonita,” he murmurs, settling himself between your legs. He’s still fully clothed, aside from his belt, and it makes you feel more exposed by comparison. One of his warm palms slides up your leg, squeezing the inside of your thigh before coming to rest agonisingly close to your core.

“Fuck, you’re so wet.” One of his fingers brushes against your core, making you jump. “You’ve soaked your pretty panties.” The edge in his voice makes you whimper, your legs falling further apart for him. He slides your underwear off with ease, and before you can catch your breath, the warm heat of his mouth envelops your clit.

It’s nearly painful, how good it feels. His full lips wrap carefully around the bud of nerves, applying just enough pressure to make you wail. Your head is spinning with the pleasure of it, your world shrinking down to your body and Javier’s mouth. You clutch at the pillows above your head, moaning with abandon. Fuck your neighbours. If they knew Javier Peña, they’d understand.

He lets go of your clit and nuzzles against your slick folds, his tongue lapping hungrily at your flesh. The noises he’s making are obscene, muffled groans mixing in with the wet sounds of his mouth.

Then, as abruptly as he’d started eating you out, he stops. The loss of his mouth is devastating, and you’re about to wail at the unfairness when his hand slides up your body. His warm palm forms a loose necklace about your throat as he looks down at you, his chin wet with your slick.

“If I let you come while I eat your pussy, do you promise to let me make you come on my cock too?” He asks. He’s entirely serious; you’ve never met anyone who takes pleasure quite so seriously.

“God, yes. Knew I did the right thing by calling you,” you tell him, practically slurring your words. He gives you that smile again, a gleam in his eye as he trails kisses down your body.

“You can always call me, baby.”

#javier pena x reader #javier pena fic #narcos #spacesisterssecretvalentine

[productstoreview]

#smoke air cleaner #air cleaner #air purifier #air filter #smoke cleansing #smoke cleaner

[anexperimentallife]

From our balcony in Baguio, Philippines. Smoke from the recent fires still obscured the mountain peaks this morning, even though they didn't come near us. We've spent most of the day with the house closed up and both air cleaners on blast. In some ways, I'm ready for wet season, but I'll be sad when it starts getting hot again.

#baguio #philippines #mountains #travel

[footprintsinthesxnd]

Anything For You

So here is the much awaited part 2 of ‘Good Girl’ for @ronsparky I’m sorry it took so long. Warnings: smut, sexual themes, bondage, swearing, Nixon being his usual self, 18+ fic only. Word count: 2.9k

It had been a few months since Y/n's last interaction with Speirs. It’s not like she was avoiding him, the company had been moved back to Mourmelon for a breather and between trying to relax and drills and training they just hadn’t managed to talk about what happened in Hagenau. They still shared longing looks across rooms and when they were occasionally close enough to touch Ron would reach out and brush his hand against hers.

After two months in Mourmelon, the company moved on to Struzelburg, Germany. The air seemed cleaner, the weather warmer and the general living conditions nicer. Y/n often thought that these comforts were almost like being back at Toccoa or Aldbourne.

She had just come back from collecting some eggs with Frank and George when she bumped into Speirs carrying a large tray of silver utensils through the street.

“You want some help with that Lieutenant?” She laughed, watching his shocked face meet hers and he gulped.

“No, that’s quite alright. I can manage,” he replied gruffly, already turning away from her and in the direction of the battalion post office.

Y/n trailed after him, despite Ron’s continued protests. Inside the post office, Ron placed the silverware on the counter, pulling out two packs of smokes for Private Vest.

“Same address as last time, Sir?” Vest asked, pocketing the packets of cigarettes with a smile.

“Yes,” Speirs replied abruptly, his eyes flicking back to Y/n for a second before turning away.

“Sure thing. I’ll say, Sir, the Y/l/n family will sure have a lot of nice silverware.” Speirs harsh glare cut the private off from saying anything else. Y/n stood in silence watching as Speirs tried to break his icey resolve and turn to her. He mumbled something about being needed at battalion before heading out the door, his head down as he passed Y/n but she couldn’t bring herself to follow him.

“Hey, Sergeant, ain’t Y/l/n your last name?”

“Shut it, Private,” Y/n snapped, spinning around on the spot and hurrying after Ron who had disappeared into the crowd of paratroopers.

Y/n had tried to find him that night but Lipton told her that he was in his room and didn’t want to be disturbed. This act went on for the rest of the month with Ron hiding away and avoiding her. That was until the company was moved on to Berchtesgaden.

Y/n finally found herself with her own room, a hot shower and a warm bed. It was these simple luxuries that Y/n had learned not to take advantage of. The alcohol flowed freely and the boys celebrated. The war in Europe had finally come to an end and despite the continuing war in Japan looming over them, for a moment, just for one night they could celebrate in peace.

Y/n had left the party an hour ago, wandering the halls in a dress she had found in one of the rooms. It was long, flowing out behind her and despite the neckline being a little lower than she would have liked, she wore it in a desperate attempt to reclaim something she had lost. She’d danced with nearly all the men that night, arm in arm with Malarkey, spinning frantically around the floor with George, Bull had taken her for a very sweet slow dance. She felt like a woman again, and the men treated her as though she was something to be admired.

Y/n found her way to the balcony that the officers often frequented, the sun loungers lay along one of the walls with discarded whiskey bottles that almost certainly belonged to Captain Nixon. At this time of night; despite the ruckus downstairs, the air was still and quiet. No wind blew, no birds sang. A dark silence hung over the mountains. Y/n didn’t know whether to find it ominous or peaceful but the silence was soon broken by the heavy footfalls of Ronald Speirs who rounded the corner so quickly that they both jumped in surprise.

“Sorry, I didn’t realise anyone was out here,” Ron confessed, avoiding her gaze and turning to head back the way he’d come.

“Ron, wait! Please. You’ve been avoiding me and we need to talk,” Y/n protested, watching as Ron fought with himself until he finally turned around to face her.

“There’s nothing to talk about. What happened between us never should have happened. We both know that. You’re going to go back home soon enough and I’m planning on staying in the army, and that’s it, either of us make it out of the Pacific anyway.” Ron huffed, slouching against the hard brick wall, glaring at the ground, “we were never gonna make it you and I.”

Y/n felt her heart clench and her lungs felt tight as she tried to find the words to convey how she felt. “You don’t know that Ron. You can’t know that unless you give us a chance.”

“We have no chance Y/n. One day you’ll wake up and realise that I was no good for you so I’m letting you go now before it’s too late. I’ve sent all the silver home to your family. I want to support you even if I can’t be with you.”

“Who says you can’t be with me?” Y/n cried, “Do I not get a say in this.” She moved closer to Ron, her dress trailing along behind her. They were inches apart when she spoke again. “I want this to be my choice Ron, and I choose you.”

Ron surged forward, pressing his lips roughly to hers. His hand gripped desperately at her hips, pulling her flush to him. In that kiss was the sweetest passion she had ever felt. Ron’s lips were soft, the stubble of his chin grazing her face but she didn’t mind the burn. Y/n found herself weaving her fingers into his hair, wrapping one of her legs around his to pull him closer. The kiss spoke volumes, travelling all the unsaid words, the unspoken feelings and desires. Y/n pulled back, brushing her thumb over Ron’s cheek and feeling the damp tears that had fallen. “I want you too,” Ron whispered, his voice cracking and Y/n realised she had never seen him cry before, his stony resolve breaking down and revealing the man beneath who just wanted to be loved.

“Oh Ron,” she whispered, their lips brushing again as she spoke. Ron looked up at her, his eyes misty and his lip quivering as he spoke.

“I’m sorry I’m so weak. I should have told you before,” he mumbled into her neck, burying his face from her view.

“You’re not weak Ron. You are the bravest man in this company. Only the brave become vulnerable emotionally and for you to show me that is braver than any act of the battlefield,” Y/n soothed him, rubbing his back in comforting circles.

Ron pulled away, his eyes becoming dark and stormy once more and a sly smirk spread across his handsome face. “If I remember correctly, you and I have some unfinished business.”

Y/n chuckled, reaching out and placing her hand in his, “I believe we do.”

Ron chuckled and it felt like the most genuine laugh they had ever shared. He scooped her up into his arms, carrying her bridal style along the corridor. She grinned up at him and Ron smiled happily down at her. Y/n now knew what she was missing in life. All those years of thinking she had a missing part and Ron’s smile filled that hole.

The walk to Ron’s room was short, too short really because all too soon Ron was carrying her over the threshold of his room and slamming the door closed with his foot, never once putting her down until he gently laid her on the bed. Ron moved to close the curtains but Y/n called out to him, “No, leave them open. You look beautiful in the moonlight.”

Ron huffed, the smile growing on his lips once more. Y/n felt herself growing warmer, just led on Ron’s bed watching him unbutton his shirt in the moonlight had her heart racing. The curves of the muscles rippling under his toned flesh caused her to whimper and Ron’s head snapped up, dark eyes watching him intensely as he whispered, “Are you going to be a good girl?”

Ron’s lips brushed against her ear lobe, sending shivers down her spine, as he whispered sweet nothings to her. Y/n had lost all coherent language as soon as Ron’s lips met hers. His hands roamed down her sides, ruffling the fabric of the dress and bunching it around her middle.

“Ron,” she pleaded with him but he ignored her, continuing to kiss down her neck while his hand grazed its way up her bare thighs. Her hands fisted in his hair and Ron groaned at the comforting sting of pain and pleasure it gave him. Ron would be lying if he said he hadn’t been dreaming of this moment since Hagenuea, well maybe even before then. The pathetic whimpers falling from Y/n’s mouth had him driven to the brink of insanity.

“Ronny, please,” Y/n begged again and Ron chuckled at this new nickname he’d been given.

“Oh Darling, you’re so needy. Tell me what you want. I’ve barely touched you and you're so desperate already.”

Y/n gasped as Ron’s fingers ran over the edge of her pant line, “Ron, God, please. Please.”

“So impatient, Darling.” Ron tutted, sitting back on his heels and smiling down at her. The distinct bulge in his trousers caused Y/n to groan further. She reached out, massaging the bulge through his trousers and watching as Ron fought back the urge to moan.

“Please Ronny,” Y/n mumbled, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. “Please, Ron.”

Ron couldn’t take it anymore, he sprung forward, pinning her beneath his large frame, his hands gripping her wrists and pulling them above her head. Y/n tried to wriggle out from his grip but his grip only tightened.

“Now now Darling, don’t get upset,” Ron reassured her, pressing his lips to hers to silence the whimpers.

Ron worked quickly, stripping her of her dress and underwear, tossing them across the room to be collected later. Next came his trousers, he pulled off his belt and began wrapping it around her wrists, pulling them flush against the headboard and restraining her there.

“Please Ron, let me help you. Let me touch you,” she cried but Ron silenced her again with another kiss.

“Oh pretty lady, you don’t need to touch me. Tonight is all about you.”

Y/n could feel his fingers slipping down beneath her dress once more, rubbing against the soft flesh before trailing to where she wanted him. Where she needed him.

“Ron!” She gasped, as his thumb began to slowly circle her clit, while his other hand moved up her body, stroking the smooth skin of her lower abdomen before trailing up to her breasts. Y/n had never felt so safe and secure while simultaneously being so exposed as he pressed another kiss to her lips.

“You’re so beautiful,” Ron cooed, brushing the stray strands of hair that had fallen into her face while continuing his movements on her clit. She couldn’t speak, she could barely breathe as her stomach began to knot and the pressure between her legs grew. She wanted to snap her legs shut as she wriggled beneath him, and as if Ron sensed this he situated himself further between her legs. “Now you promised you’d be a good girl and good girls don’t close their legs now, do they?”

Y/n shook her head frantically, she’d never felt so pathetic. Ever since she joined the paratroopers she had spent every day proving she was tough, she could handle herself and yet by just his touch alone Ronald Speirs had rendered her incapacitated.

A small moan escaped her as Ron’s tongue swirled around her nipple.

“Do you like that, Darling? Tell me you like it.”

“I like it,” Y/n nearly screamed. “Please, I like it. Don’t stop.”

Ron hummed in amusement, repeating the action and earning the same response.

“Please Ron, please I need more,” she whined, fighting against the restraints that held her there. The desperate look in her eyes was all Ron needed. He reached forward, removing the belt and freeing her hands. They immediately landed on the hem of his underwear, pulling at the elastic impatiently but Ron pushed her hands away.

“Not yet my Darling. Remember I told you, tonight is all about you,” Ron pressed a final kiss to her lips, squeezing her hips before he sank beneath the covers out of view.

Y/n had been with men before but none had done anything like this. She gasped, grabbing a fistful of the bedsheets and throwing her head back in an exaggerated groan. Ron linked his arms under her legs, placing them over his shoulders and he continued to trail kisses over her clit. The small licks and nibbles drove her wild. Y/n cried and whimpered, tugging frantically at Ron’s brown locks as the pressure in her stomach continued to build.

“God, Ron I’m so close. I’m so close. Please…” she cried out as the knot came undone and her whole body spasmed. Her legs clamped tightly around Ron’s head but he didn’t seem to notice, choosing to continue to kiss and lick her until the tremors finally subsided and Y/n could breathe again.

He reappeared from beneath the covers, his lips and chin dripping with saliva and a wicked grin on his face. His brown locks fell onto his sweaty forehead as he spoke, “Did you enjoy that my Darling.”

“Yes,” Y/n mumbled, her chest still heaving from the effort of her orgasm.

“Good because I’m only just getting started.”

Y/n let out a guttural moan, pushing herself off the pillows, “Ron, I want you to fuck me.”

She wasn’t sure where the foul language had come from, despite being surrounded by soldiers all the time she rarely swore but now seemed like an appropriate time.

Ron took this as a sign, pushing his boxers down and allowing his desperately hard cock to spring free from its restraint. He reached over to the bedside cabinet, retrieving a condom and rolling it down his cock. Y/n watched in awe of him. Not only was he an attractive man but his body was sculpted like a Greek God and Y/n thanked all those runs up Currehea for that.

Ron pushed her back against the bed, pressing his hips into hers and teasing her once more but the teasing didn’t continue for long and soon he was lining himself up to her entrance.

“Are you ready? If at any point you want me to stop…”

“Ron, please just shut up and fuck me,” Y/n snapped, already too wound up and desperate to keep talking. Ron nodded, pressing his lips securely to hers as he entered. With every inch that pushed inside of her Y/n felt fuller than she ever had before and the ecstasy building within her was stronger than ever.

Once he was inside all the way, Ron allowed her a moment to adjust before pulling out and slamming back into her. His thrusts were relentless and precise. Hitting the exact spot with every thrust and sending Y/n into a frenzy of incoherent phrases as she clawed at his back like a mad woman. Despite the pace he was going, Ron made her feel loved with every thrust, pressing delicate kisses to her ear lobe, whispering to her, a number of ‘I love you’s’ were exchanged too.

“Ron, please… I’m so close,” she cried out, causing Ron to draw in a deep breath. He reached his hand down between their bodies, circling her clit with his thumb once more until she came undone with a loud cry of his name. He grabbed her face, kissing her passionately and silencing the moans as he came undone inside of her.

The pair lay like this for a few moments, sweat trickling down Ron’s spine and his damp hair smeared against his forehead.

“Y/n, Sweetheart, are you alright?” He looked down at her, his eyes full of love and concern.

“I’m perfect,” she replied, reaching up to brush away the stray hairs from his eyes, “Everything is perfect.”

The moment was disturbed by a harsh crashing noise followed by the bedroom door flying open and a very drunk Nixon stumbling into the room.

“SPEIRS?” He shouted, seemingly shocked that Ron was in the room he thought belonged to him.

“SERGEANT Y/L/N?” Nixon started blankly for a few moments before sticking his head out the door.

“HARRY YOU OWE ME 20 BUCKS. I TOLD YOU THEY WERE FUCKING!”

“NIXON!” Ron snapped, glaring harshly at him as he rolled out of Y/n who let out a small moan. “GET THE FUCK OUT!”

Nixon looked at them again before waving his hand and mumbling as he retreated out of the room. The couple fell back onto the bed laughing. Ron pulled off the condom, disposing of it into the bedside bin and moving to get out of bed when Y/n stopped him.

“Wait. Let’s cuddle for a while.” Ron nodded, sighing as he pulled Y/n flush to his chest. Y/n glanced up at him, her face shining pale in the moonlight.

“Ron, next time we have sex, can you please make sure you lock the door.” Ron nodded, sighing as he pulled Y/n flush to his chest.

“Of course my Darling. Anything for you.”

Tags @iceman-kazansky @yeahcurrahhe-e @msmercury84 @blvestxr @dustyjumpwjngs @theflyingfin @jump-wings @kafka-ohdear @kmc1989 @mads-weasley @docroesmorphine @liptonsbabe @ronald-speirs @sweetxvanixlla @hesbuckcompton-baby @ronsparky @allthingsimagines @whollyjoly @bucky32557038ww2 @panzershrike-pretz @malarkgirlypop @hanniewinnix @inglourious-imagines @l13bg0tt

#band of brothers #ronald speirs fic #ronald spiers x reader #ronald speirs #band of brothers fic

[stray-kaz]

Breathing : a Jeong Jin-man x f!reader oneshot

Summary: He's alive, and you can breathe again.

A/N: Yikes, I wrote this in under an hour.

The land lay quiet, the house in the midst a clatter of rubble and smoke. The guns were laid down, the knives bloodied and still. Pasin and Min-hye were nowhere in sight, and Ji-an was blood spattered and shellshocked. You weren't a lot better off.

You perched unevenly on what remained of Jin-man's carefully crafted wall, a crow with a damaged wing. Your left arm hung awkwardly in a makeshift sling, dried blood caking your skin where the bullets had grazed you.

You had possessed no earthly idea that this was what Jeong Jin-man was. Months ago, he had seemed quiet, a little morose, unnervingly funny, deep in the trenches of loving a girl. And then there was you.

And now, he was this. Or, he had been.

You pulled Ji-an down to sit next to you on the wall, and she quietly leaned her head on your shoulder.

"The cleaners will deal with the mess" she murmured.

An unsettled, strangled scoff fought its way out of your throat. The mess. The multitudinous dead bodies.

She put a hand on your knee and patted it awkwardly.

"Boys are dumb" you said suddenly. "There'll be others, Ji-an. Good ones."

She glanced at you.

"Are you talking to me right now, or yourself?" she asked. "I know that you lo -"

You interrupted quickly.

"He is good" you said, swallowing with difficulty; your throat couldn't seem to work properly, your lungs struggling for air. "He...was good, Ji-an."

She cleared her throat and settled back on your shoulder, but she was on her feet the split second she glimpsed the taxi coming. She moved to stand with the bus driver and his cleaners, and you glimpsed the butt of his gun.

You sighed. More?

You didn't move off the wall, too tired, too sore, too over it to care now.

The taxi stopped in a cloud of dust and the driver stepped out, accompanied by his front seat passenger. You blinked hard, shaking your head; was there someone in the back? You closed your eyes and when you opened them again, the taller man was opening the taxi's rear door and reaching in to help someone out.

You heard a soft intake of breath, and realised it was yours. The tension eased in your lungs and you pushed clumsily to your feet, one winged, and took a step away from the remains of that crumbling wall.

Jin-man.

You felt Ji-an's hand brush yours as you passed her, caught a half glimpse of the smile on her face. If you could have run, you would have, but your feet could only manage a slow, one step at a time kind of pace. However, from the look on his face, it didn't matter. One step at a time was just fine.

Jin-man couldn't hold you, but he held out a hand to grab yours, grasping it with the same strength he'd always used. You couldn't wipe away the tears clearing tracks through the dirt and gunpowder residue on your face with his hand gripping yours, but you leaned your cheek against his shoulder and that was better.

"You're alive" you whispered, as if the wind could snatch the truth away if you spoke it too loud.

He looked down at your injured arm, your torn shirt used for the sling.

"I'm sorry" he said, his voice low and gravelly.

You shook your head, your hair brushing the underside of his jaw. You squeezed his hand.

"You're alive" you repeated.

So I can breathe again.

Tagging: @writingmysanity

#a shop for killers #the killer's shopping mall #a shop for killers fanfic #jeong jin man #jeong jin man x reader #jeong jin man fanfic #jeong jin man x female reader #liss writes

[awkwardoutsidely]

What do the Hazbin Hotel residents smell like??

Alastor: The obvious would be blood, because of his eating habits and activtes, and I agree there would be a metaltic tinge to him, but I personally thing he smells like a fireplace, smoky, maybe a speck of tabacco, also being the radio demon I'd like to think he has an air of ozone to his person, with all the that static going around him. 100/10.

Husk: He drinks, yes and he spend majority day around alchchol, so yes that high octane is def around his person. but with the terroity that comes with being a cat demon, comes with the stight musky scent of cat fur, pleasant in my opinion. very cuddly boy 10/10.

Angel: I acutally think Angel would smell great, probably wears a great perpume, a some floral notes, for sure maybe some sweet notes too! they're miight me and undertone of cigerette smoke from a certain overlord. 8/10

Charile: Sweets, and sugar, gumdrops and rainbows, bursting with pure happiness, and of course sulfur, fire and brim stone. 7/10

Vaggie: In short she probably smells alot like Charile, because she spends so much time together with her, and probably share some of the same products. However being an ex-angel probably adds some resudial 'celestial essence', very clean, very good hygiene too. 7/10

Sir Penious: This master of engineering and inventing , probably smells, a lot like motor oil, and ink from drawing up blue prints for his inventions, he is a little old fashion victorian boy so probably does everything by hand, when it comes to document his inventions, and the obvious snake demon sssscent that come along with it ie musk etc. 6/10

Nifty: The murderous lil bundle, probably smells of one thing. Cleaning supples. Bleach. Toliet cleaner. Mop water. Glass cleaner. She practially bathes in the stuff, On top of the blood of her enemies, I suppose she may smell like what ever Al is cooking in the kitchen when she helps him. 2/10

**********bonus************

Lucifer: This short king of hell, like his daughter probably has alot of sweet undertones, very syurpy, apples etc, on top of having the scent from his workshop, paint, glue, gaseoline. On top of the usual fire and brimstone. 9/10

Rosie: Welcome to Cannibal Town! This dame smells of the latest perfume that's popular around town, a subtle smell of flowers, and maybe something citrus-y, along with the smell of baked goods and tea. Yknow to mask the the smell of the blood and organs, but you know that adds to her charm.7/10

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor #sir pentious #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel husk #nifty hazbin hotel #charlie morningstar #vaggie #hazbin nifty #hazbin hotel rosie #imagine hazbin Hotel