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#but have you heard a deeper truth
angelltheninth · 8 months
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Hello I have a desperate need to drop this somewhere after doing the second Fontaine quest, so I really hope it's okay that I do, but like; Virgin nuevillette. Finally having someone to be spicy with and he's just a mess and so damn cute because he wants soooo badly but he doesn't know what exactly. Something about having to guide such a big guy because he's too whiny and excited to focus right just makes me giggle
This makes so much sense my fingers just flew across the keyboard.
Pairing: Neuvillette x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, being flustered, double cock, loss of virginity, coming quickly, blowjob, eagerness, clit stimulation, blushing, kissing, creampie, biting, mating press, size kink
A/N: The double cock action seems like a neat idea, I hope the fandom accepts it as truth. It's my contribution.
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Virgin!Neuvillette is simultaneously eager to please you and very flustered at the same time. For starters you're a human, he could hurt you if he gets carried away. It hasn't happened in your make out sessions but this time it won't just be that, he'll be inside of you, one with you. Whatever he can do to make this good for you he promises that he will.
Virgin!Neuvillette has two cocks, more for you to please that way but the second one only appears when he's really horny. Getting a blowjob from you will do it. He is in awe at how you're handling him, never leaving either cock alone, hand moving up and down one of them while you suck and kiss the other at the tip. Because he is getting stimulated even when you go still when you bend down to take his cock in your mouth his other cock shoots cum all over your face. He goes only a little bit soft but there's still the other hard cock in your mouth for you to play with until the other gets hard again.
Virgin!Neuvillette gets a little embarrassed that he couldn't last long with you. He heard that this can happen but he really thought he would do better. Then again he was never one to masturbate much so it's not that surprising. But still, one of his cocks is always hard, he's got the stamina now he only needs to work on his endurance. And you will gladly assist him. He doesn't care if your face is covered in his cum, he still kisses you, commenting on the interesting salty taste of himself. Do you like it? His taste that is. You do, so much that you lick the cum off your lips and his.
Virgin!Neuvillette lets his playful side out when you pull him on top of you. He starts biting and kissing your neck, a deep and primal need to mark you boiling to the surface. Not yet, but if your relationship lasts he wants to give you a real mating mark. For now he will be happy with seeing these temporary ones all over your body.
Virgin!Neuvillette has a hidden size kink. His cocks are pretty girthy and long so he asks you which size is better at first. It doesn't matter to you because you'll have both inside of you at some point, maybe even both at once. The zips leak with cum at the idea but he decides to put the larger one in first, moaning and whimpering loudly as you take him inside of your pussy walls. That way his other cock can slide over your clit giving you double stimulation as he moves. His thrusts are sloppy, unsure, but each one is deep, it's like he can't... he doesn't want his cock to be out in the open, it has to be inside you. Is this what they call being pussydrunk?
Virgin!Neuvillette loses himself in the feeling of you coming undone under him. It's not enough, he needs more, he wants to go in deeper, deeper until his cock is kissing the entrance to your womb. He needs to feel it, now. Lucky for him, you're so easy to move around, easy for him to push your legs up on his shoulders, to your chest and kiss you while he gets what he wants, his pulsing, hot cock with nowhere to else to go.
Virgin!Neuvillette can't stop his pleasurable cries as he fills you up with warm seed. His other cock jumps, twitches against your clit, shooting thick, white ropes all over your body. Outside, inside, you're now marked as his with his cum. He never knew one could feel such pleasure but now that he's experienced it he doesn't want to go a single day without it.
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chrollohearttags · 1 month
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good girls finish last • e. jaeger
your best friend was always adamant that he’d have you and he follows through on it in a huge way.
word count: 2.3K
black fem!reader, heavy dom!eren (he’s yandere if you squint), PWOP, overstimulation, back licking, squirting, reader calls him daddy, calls reader princess, growling/marking, orgasm denial. he speaks German/Italian, many other themes I don’t feel like listing
in case you all were wondering what inspired this: enjoy! 🫶🏾
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“Mmmm!…please..”
“Shhh, keep your voice down, baby. I won’t say it again..”
the deep vibrato rang out in your ear in almost a growl like tone..his voice tantalizing and almost honey like as it deeper into your brain. He was trouble..that you had always known since the day you met him. Your best friend of several years, even when everyone else told you otherwise. However, that was of no consequence. Especially when you were certain that he was the only man for you. Someone who saw your flaws as perfections, who thought the world of you even when you seemed insignificant. It was more than what could be said of the man who had you before..hence why he was now there to pick up the pieces.
“..don’t talk, just breathe..that’s all you need to do right now. Just focus on my voice..” the command simultaneous with the sounds and sensation of his thick, warm fingertips fluidly moving in and out of your warmth. Your slick building up on the hilt of his knuckles as he flexed his wrist. His tattooed digits and arm were already decorated in the remnants of your previous orgasms and he was looking to add more to the collection. “I—I just..this isn’t right..we shouldn’t be doing this.” A statement only followed by that same maniacal laughter you had heard many times before and a soft clutch around your throat. “And why is that? Hmm..scared that he’s gonna walk in here? Good, let him see what a real man is supposed to do.” Even so, your chest couldn’t help but to heave with every delicate, calculated movement he made. Working your cunt over with the most intricate of strokes. He occasionally uses his free hand to squeeze your throat or grope your tits that were pulled from your tank top. That thong dangling at your ankles and your plaid skirt flipped up to expose your lower half..he was enjoying this! All of it far more than he should’ve but he couldn’t help himself, really. Eren had been in love with you since the two of you first became acquainted. Those beautiful lips, those thighs and pretty dark skin he found so perfect..the best part was? It was all his!…regardless of how many losers you allowed into your life. You were his lady, forever and always. And he’d make certain that everyone knew it. Removing that hand from your throat, he’d quickly replace it with a trail of gentle kisses. As well as the slight drudge of his teeth up the sensitive skin.
“Don’t you get it? We were always supposed to be together. Just me and you against the world, princess. That’s what you told me, right?” Your answer seemingly coming a moment too late for him, as he snatched your head around to meet his gaze. “Right?!” “Ah!—yes! Yes, daddy..” the name inciting more of a fire in him than before. Truth be told, he knew you liked it. You loved it, in fact. That much apparent by the subtle smirk on your face. “Look at you fucking smiling..admit it, mama. You never loved him. You were only pretending. You always were such a people pleaser..my good girl.” His voice dropped even lower as his fingers elevated to your g-spot once more. Pressing on the fleshy pad and making you writhe in his grasp. You were as good as stuck..you wouldn’t leave this spot. This bed where you and your ex had consummated your relationship several times. And not once did it ever bring you the thrill and rush that fucking Eren did. The way he spoke to you, held you close and made you feel as if he existed solely for you.
“But that’s why I’m here…you don’t have to appease anyone. You can be selfish with me, baby. Give in to what you really want…so tell me..what is that? Tell me what you want me to do…” all the while, his movements became sped up and you were clawing at his tattooed forearm; mere seconds from climaxing whilst he coaxed you through it. “C’mon, closed mouths don’t get fed, princess. Talk to me..” just as smooth as ever and devilish as well. He always had such a way with words and knew exactly how to articulate them to get his wishes. Maybe that’s why so many people despised the cocky brunette. Because he was the total package, head to toe. But an asshole to his core. Still, that didn’t mean shit to him..or you! Through your lens, he was picture perfect and nothing could change that. Working those digits in and out, you’d finally screech and yelp, unable to keep your voice lowered and in response, all he could do was laugh. Knowing that you were trying so hard to spare the feelings of someone you shouldn’t have. You’d quickly cup your hand over your mouth but to no avail.
“Aww, what’s the matter? Don’t want your ‘man’ to hear us? Hear me playing with this lil’ pussy? Afraid it might break his little heart? You’re so considerate..” sarcastically stroking the side of your face with a lilt in his tone. But there was simply no need for you to be so courteous. “I’ll let you in on a little secret. He’s with another bitch right now. Somewhere laid up with a girl who couldn’t even think of competing with you. So why hold back, baby? Why are you trying to fight what’s meant to be for his sake?”
in a moment of haste, Eren retracted his fingers and used them momentarily to pacify your cries. He’d work them in between your jaws and meanwhile, usher you onto all fours. Prompting you to arch your back. Just as quickly, he’d tug those sweatpants down and remove his shirt in the process. He could feel you teeming right on the edge of climatic bliss but he was selfish. He needed to reach that point with you…to feel every bit and part of you as you made it to that point. Once he freed his stiff cock from those boxers, he’d align himself with your slit and immediately begin slapping it against your folds. Leaning down, he’d lace your shoulder blades with those same markings on your neck; biting gently into your flesh like a predator claiming its sweet little prey. Grunting and moaning into your ear how gorgeous you were and how he couldn’t wait to beat your pussy up. You were so delicate, soft and pretty. But he couldn’t help but to defile you..to make you a product of his sick perversions. He’d dreamed of the nights that he could pound this little pussy into oblivion. Making you cream on his shaft until you left him an utter mess..going deep until he forced you to squirt all over him and then shortly after, breed you so that he was with you in more ways than one. Having vivid daydreams of your belly swollen with his kid..it was the ultimate sign of possession!
“Fuck me, Eren! I can’t take it…” “..now where’s those manners you love so much? Say please..” there was that slick mouth. You always loved it when you weren’t the one on the receiving end but seeing as you were about to combust, you were feeding into it. “Please, daddy. I need it so bad..need you to make me come, right now..”
grasping at the sheets beneath you, you’d feel a sharp sting when his palm collided with your asscheek before those same fingers laced your throat. Eren never did like being told what to do but for you?…he could possibly overlook it.
“Shhhh! pazienza, amore mio..” pushing a finger to your lips.
the switch in dialect sending a pang to your stomach. You were always so fond of the fact that he was trilingual, being the son of immigrants. He’d tested it out on you earlier in the night as his tongue drudged between your folds and lapped at your clit. He’d begin complimenting your flavor and scent in his native languages; letting the words ooze like honey.
“We’ll get there when I say so..” suddenly, you’d feel yourself become full as he impaled you on his cock. Shoving that girthy, long member into that swollen heat. It was no time before you acclimated, despite his massive size. It was almost as if you designed just for him. “Ahh…so fucking tight. Just like old times..when you’d sneak out of class or practice, just to come fuck me. Ooh..that pussy felt so good..” Referring to your high school days when you were just alike. Delinquents and deviants only caring about each other. Fast forward and you were trying to get your act together. In college, new job, and supposedly a new man. However, old habits die hard and he was a hell of a one to crack. “You used to be such a slut f’r me. Let’s see if you still have it in you..” mocking whilst he smacked your ass repeatedly, telling you to meet his thrusts. The collision of that plump backside driving him crazy, especially when you reached back voluntarily and spread yourself open; glancing back with a smirk on your face. “Mmm..like that?” “Fuuuck..yeah, there’s my nasty lil’ bitch. Here..open up.” In one fell swoop, Eren tugged your head back and your jaw would fall slack; opening your enough for him to fill it with spit which made you giggle in return.
“Mmm, thank you, daddy..” he couldn’t help but to twitch each time you uttered the moniker. It always did sound so much sexier when you said. “You’re so welcome, princess..thank you for being so patient. I know you wanna come so bad. I want you to..” as he persisted with his speech, his strokes became a bit more sped up. The sounds of clapping flesh growing louder as well as your moans.
“ ‘Rennn…oh my God..” “..that’s right, baby. Pray to me, worship this fucking dick like you used to.” Commanding that you take it. Tightening his grip on the back of your neck, he’d force (y/n) face down, flat on the mattress in a prone position. Now, he could go as fast as he pleased without you faltering. “I’m the only one that can make you feel this good. The fuck were you thinking give my pussy to these fuck ass little boys? Are you crazy?” Seemingly switching his demeanor midway. That side of him always did scare you. But he’d never even so much as entertain the thought of hurting his princess. The only pain he wanted to cause you was consensual and pleasure filled. The kind you’d beg for.
“Nnngh, I’m so sorry, daddy. I’m so fucking sorry..” your voice high pitched and wailing as he pounded you mercilessly. You couldn’t take another minute of this. Your bladder felt as if it were going up burst, your eyes rolling back and tears staining your cheek. But he was inconsolable, thinking about another man in this bed with you. Being inside of you without a clue of how to make you happy. That was his job and his alone.
“It’s okay, it’s okay…don’t cry. I’m not mad at you..I’m just so disappointed that you’d settle like this..” breaking into yet another chuckle whilst his strokes became sporadic. “Please!..I’m so close..” “I know, I know you are..” leaning down to mark your spine with kisses as he lifted you back up and to also rattle off in your ear. “..so let’s get you there, pretty girl..” just then, those strokes would reach maximum speed and you’d find yourself trying to brace but you were coming undone! You could barely keep a grasp on those sheets and he was drilling you like no one’s business. Tugging you back to his chest with that same grasp on your throat, Eren kept talking; coaching you through your orgasm. Telling you when you squeeze and hold your muscles. To not release until he gave you explicit permission. Meanwhile, he’d stroke your clit repeatedly until you were nearly convulsing, trying to hold back. You had always trusted him but this teasing was too much to bear. You had to let go right now! And luckily, he wouldn’t keep you waiting for much longer
“Come for me, princess! Come for me..squirt on my dick! Spritz auf meinen Schwanz..” repeating the phrase a couple times more with a heavy growl and with that accent peeking through, you’d fall apart right there in his grasp, releasing a puddle onto his cock and the linen. You were finished; completely spent and on the brink of collapse. But he was quick to hold you in place and steal one last peck from those pretty lips.
“I love you..I love you so fucking much..you hear me? Don’t you ever leave me again..” his voice faint through his seemingly overwhelming amounts of emotions. He was so happy that you were back where you belonged. In his arms, in his life. Maybe being a goody two shoes got you nowhere and you’d gotten your heart broken trying to do the right thing…
“I love you more, baby..I’m right here..”
and hell, maybe good girls did finish last but if this was what was waiting at the end of the line?
“I’ll never leave you again, Eren. I promise.”
you’d fall behind every time!
@dancingwithdeities @iadoreprettygirls @arminsbbymami
@shamelesshoefairy @chiquititaosita @greenieweeniesworld @ichigosluvrr @thickbihhwitdagapp
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areislol · 4 months
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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ❝SWEET!❞
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►— pairings. various genshin men x fem! reader
►— warnings. smut, cursing, dirty talk, just smutty. implied reader has somewhat thick thighs, 18+ fingering, MDNI
►— synopsis. an alternative title, how do they eat pussy?
►— a/n. been having these thoughts for a bit now i need to jot them down before my obsession grows worse.
►— wordcount. 2.3k
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they eat that pussy like it's a religion, his head buried in between your legs, his hands gripping onto your thighs tightly, using his strength to keep your thighs still and from closing in. his eyes are focused solely on your face as he languidly drags his tongue into a line on your wet pussy.
he's addicted, to say the least. the smell, the taste, the lewd and dirty sounds you were making, he loved it all, and all the while as his mouth latches onto your poor abused cunt he whispers the sweetest things in your ear, dirty words as well. he switches between both. on the rare occasions that he does tease you he will whisper the most vile and dirty things you've ever heard, but most of the time he's just craving you, he just can't wait, once you give him the word that he could go down on you he wastes no time and before you know it he's sandwiched between your thighs and giving you an orgasm.
every time he eats you out he reminds you of a starving animal (if you didn't know any better), every time he eats you out you are a mess, and your pussy is a mess. your juices, sweat and saliva combined created a nasty sight it made him achingly hard but even so he prioritizes your pleasure first as he grinds his bulge on the bed. your moans and praises as you grip his hair and push his head deeper in were all he needed while jerking your hips at the same time.
his nose rested on your clit, the air hitting your clit as his tongue relentlessly flicked up and down your folds, he sucks and kisses your clit before adding a finger in. yes, although he does love to eat you out he also loves fingering you as well, the sweet moans and screams you let out just get him so hard it motivates him to eat you out even more. not that he plans on stopping. he barely teases you, he doesn't like the idea of stripping you of the chance to cum because truth be told he really really wants you to cum on his face (and sometimes he unintentionally overstimulates you).
— XIAO, CHILDE, kaveh, CYNO, WRIOTHESLEY, thoma, lyney, VENTI, itto, gorou
teases you while eating you out and teases you before eating you out, he knew what you wanted but continued to tease you, savouring every moment when you squirm and whine for him to go down on you. he's mean, he doesn't stick to one pace and instead chooses to go slow and fast, it's just how your face contorts when he buries his face against your pussy and begins to lick and slurp your folds and just when you're about to cum (he has been teasing your poor pussy for so long the second he begins to actually eat you out you're too sensitive, that's him to blame) he slows down his pace, a frustrated cry leaving your lips as tears brim your eyes, you just wanted him to do it properly.
he doesn't mind fingering you as he licks your clit but he finds it satisfyingly when he knows only he can make you cum with his tongue, when he feels nice he'll finger you with one or two fingers, pumping in and out of your mushy walls as his tongue rolls over your sensitive bud, his tactic never fails to get you cumming in no time.
he won't lie, he loves seeing you in tears as he continues to tease your bud and clit with his tongue, he isn't even giving it his all, his cheeks aren't even pressed against your inner thighs and here you are, let out cries for him to please eat you out, it's adorable. and when he thinks you're ready and he had enough teasing you already he's already lapping at your folds and humming, the vibrations and hums on your sensitive skin make it all the more pleasurable. he isn't that bad though, when he feels bad for you or feels like you've endured enough teasing he'll make sure to make it up by eating you out good (not saying he never does).
that doesn't mean he's not done being mean to you though, he's heavy on eye contact. he loves making eye contact with you as he brutally violates your clit, and he lives to see the faces you make as he inserts one finger in your soaking pussy, juices spilling out of your greedy hole, he loves seeing how you gasp when he swiftly slips in another finger, teasing you as he says how wet you were that he could easily fit in a third finger.
but he hates when you look away in embarrassment, he'll stop doing what he's doing—he'll stop his fingers from bottoming in and out of your pussy, and he'll stop his sucking and licking at your clit when you look away from embarrassment, "getting shy now are we? guess that means i'll have to stop.." you whine and quickly look back at him, looking down and meeting his eyes, his gaze was hot and intense, mouth and cheeks wet with your juices and his saliva, it was dirty.
"keep looking at me as i fuck you with my tongue, you understand? i want to see your face as you cum, i want you to watch me as i make you cum, got that?"
— ALHAITHAM, AYATO, WANDERER, pierro, PANTALONE, TIGHNARI, HEIZOU, DOTTORE, capitano
gentle and soft yet never fails to make you orgasm hard, he relishes in watching your dripping entrance as you wait for him to go down on you. he takes things slow and is very passionate, he considers himself a lucky man every time he eats you out because he knows only he is allowed to be in this position, no one else. he is sort of possessive when in the act when he really thinks about it, no one has eaten your pussy out this good, your moans and cries are only for him to hear.
despite him taking it slowly he is a god at eating pussy (you can't change my mind), he plants soft and tender kisses on your thighs before slowly reaching your inner thighs, you whine and beg for him to hurry up but he only shushes you and reminds you to be patient. "ah, remember to be patient love, i want to savour this moment.." you let out a soft moan and bring your head backwards when he finally kissed your clit.
his hands are tightly yet tenderly holding your legs apart, his hands grabbing a hold of the soft plush of your thighs. he leans in closer to your pussy, his thumb prying your wet pussy slightly open, he stares at it in awe before softly blowing on it, the cold air hitting your sensitive folds. your back arches as a shaky sigh escapes your lips, he looks up from his position and smirks before latching his mouth onto your pussy, it was all so sudden it caught you off-guard but within a couple of seconds the pleasure had taken over your body, your mind was clouded with nothing but pleasure.
he loves it when you yank and grip his hair, pulling him in closer to your pussy just to create more friction. you were so greedy it was cute so he always allowed it, he hummed and moaned softly as he ate you out, the vibrating sensation never failed you made your legs tremble and he knew it. he nips and softly (just barely) bites at your folds before covering them with a long kiss and when he releases he lets out a "pop!", your moans grow louder and louder the more he licks and slurps at your sensitive dripping entrance.
he knows when you're about to cum, the sound of your gasps and moans strained, the way your grip on his hair tightens as you try to pull him in closer to your pussy (it already is but he isn't complaining) and your hips jerking up—he closes his eyes, taking in the moment and makes sure to hold you steady when you finally reach your climax, thighs, hands and legs trembling from the overwhelming feeling of pleasure.
and even after cumming on his face he continues to eat you out (obsessed much), you try to push his head away but he only narrows his eyes at you, it was hot to see him maintaining eye contact with you so well as he licked and slurped up your sweet essence. "don't try to push me away now princess, not after you were so eager to cum and pushed me in so close. just another, please?"
he's the type, that even after you're passed out in bed from cumming, his head's still in between your thighs, bumping his nose onto your clit for stimulation as a few strands of hair tickled your thighs. he really enjoys eating you out, if you can't tell (he doesn't even stop even after you've done passed out) but you know what he enjoys as well? face sitting, the feeling of your soft thighs squeezing his head as you ride his face and nose is everything.
he ignores his own problem when eating you out, his cock was aching, all hot and bothered. but he didn't mind, if anything just seeing you cum from his tongue and mouth made him cum (happened too many times), he's too preoccupied with your pleasure anyway. although if you really do insist on helping him out then... (can he put his dick in?)
— ZHONGLI, DILUC, albedo, BAIZHU, DAINSLEIF, aether, kaeya, KAZUHA, NEUVILLETTE
definition of "pussy drunk", he LOVES eating you out.. so what if he suffocates between your thighs? he will gladly and happily suffocate between your thighs. although he is a bit shy doing it in public the thought of someone walking in the restroom and hearing the lustful moans coming from one closed stall makes him hard, at first he's soft and slow and kissing your thighs but that only lasts for a bit before he's literally making out with your pussy.
he LIVES to hear your praises when you mewl his name and cry out of pleasure, his lips swollen from burying his mouth deeper into your warm pussy, his nails digging into your thighs as juices (was it cum, saliva or sweat? who knows?) coated his chin, dribbling down his neck. it was a sticky mess and he loved it. his eyes are closed shut, brows furrowing his concentration as he sloppily laps over your hot, swollen puffy cunt. and when he does open his eyes he only does it to admire your soaking pussy coated with slick before licking up your cream, and his eyes? god they're so dazed and lustful it makes you feel embarrassed, real pussy drunk.
one thing he will never ever get enough of is the taste and how messy it gets. call him a freak or whatever you want but the sensation of his cheeks and mouth smothered by your juices and arousal as he gently nipped at your folds and slurped up all of your essence, is something to die for. the way your slick rolls down from his lips to his chin and down his neck, the tickling sensation is one he will never forget.
who knows what the slick is made up of? was it from your arousal? was it his spit and drool? perhaps both. there's just something irresistible about how dirty you could get just by his tongue and fingers that does something to him (not to mention the precum leaking out of his boxers), the more you cry out in pleasure and overstimulation makes him crack.
he's extremely skilled when eating pussy, that's just something he's naturally good at but you swear he gets better and better every time.. maybe you're too kind to let him eat you out nearly every day. but the more he goes down on you the more he learns—what spot you like the most, where's the most sensitive part, what combination you like, what pace... you get the jist. one of his favourite things is when you get too overwhelmed with pleasure to the point where your legs are shaking and pushing his head away, crying out for him to stop—that you were full.
"full? already? but i haven't even used my fingers yet..." he sighs (directly onto your pussy) and only ducks his head back in despite your futile attempts to push his head away, he knew your energy was low meaning you couldn't push him away even if you wanted to. he could eat out for hours on end, even days if he could (he would), he gets really delirious when eating you out, it's as if everything around him is gone, he's like his own little world with your pussy. the low groan and grumbled escaping his lips as he licks your clit up and down before sucking on it, letting go with a loud "pop!"
and once again he's back it, his tongue brazenly exploring your cunt before swirling at your poor sensitive bud, with every sharp and precise movement he makes he does it with every intention to make you cum, for like the third time. the way he's alternating between your clit and your needy hole makes your mind crazy, too fucked out to think about anything but the intense pleasure, and with every exhale his warm breath hits your flushed skin, his tongue lapping over your squishy folds. he'll never leave your pussy alone, will he?
— XIAO, ZHONGLI, ALHAITHAM, DILUC
the one thing they all have in common is that in the end when he pulls away he can't tell whether or not you're extremely wet because of your arousal/sweat or his saliva, or maybe it's both, who knows?
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note: uuuuhhhhhhh dialogue or the text itself may be a bit icky (I'M NOT GOOD AT WRITING SMUT) so if it irks you just stay quiet and go on about your day. (*′з`b)
taglist: @tomansimp @one-offmind @miitchiji @dainsleif-when-playable @momoewn @stygianoir @irethepotato @v4an @imetsk @fiannee @sunnyf4lls if im missing anyone please tell me because i have an inkling feeling i missed a few..
liking + following + reblogs are very much appreciated!!!
another note: slightly proof read so if you found any spelling/grammar mistakes PLEASE tell me.
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sturncrazy · 4 months
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CABINFEVER:
Matt Sturniolo x y/n (fem)
(anyone else green)
warnings: SMUT!! nsfw 18+ (loss of virginity, unprotected + no pull out…assume ur on birth control)
authors note: love a little sweet smut matt moment 🫶 also imagine the world wasn’t falling apart and there was still snow 🤪 HOPE U GUYS LIKE THIS ONE!!
summary: you and a group of your friends rent an airbnb cabin up in the mountains for a winter get away, but it’s short on beds. You settle for a bench and Matt takes the couch next to you, but things heat up when you get cold…
word count: 2,915 W
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“HOLY FUCK! it’s FREEZING out” yelled Nick slamming the door behind him. He was the last one inside the cabin and join the rest of you in stomping the snow off your shoes and hanging up various layers of winter-wear. You and a group of 7 of your friends decided to rent an airbnb up in the mountains in New Hampshire for a week to have a cozy vacation. You planned to sled, go on winter walks, make cookies and cozy drinks, play games, and just enjoy being together away from the rest of the world. The only problem was not all of you going had a budget like the triplets, Larray, and Madi. even though they offered to cover for the rest of you, it didn’t seem fair. so you settled on a slightly more quaint cabin instead of a big mansion. the catch was that there were only three bedrooms. You were always easy going and determined that everyone else be happy, so you had made peace with the fact that you’d probably end up on a couch long ago.
“so who’s gonna be living room buddies with me, huh?” you questioned.
“guess that would be me” said Matt, with a sheepish smile.
No surprise, really. Matt was an angel to everyone, so of course he’d be the first to say he’d take the undesirable sleeping spot. you grinned back at him, maybe a little too much. You’d been close to the triplets since you were kids, but Matt had always been your favorite. You related to his quieter side and always had a soft spot for him. A soft spot that went deeper than you wanted to admit in the last few years. Matt was always good looking, but lately something felt different…even though you’d never tell him that.
“i can live with that” you attempted to joke. The living room was beautiful, but large and drafty. there were a few armchairs, but only one oversized couch. next to it was a big window that had a little nook fitted with pillows.
“you take the couch, yn” Matt said, gesturing with his head.
“wha—no way. then where will you sleep?”
“I dunno i’ll figure it out don’t worry bout it. I’ll grab a beanbag or make a pile on the floor” he said blowing you off
“Nuh-uh. no way. you take the couch, i’ll sleep on that window thing”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah a hundred percent”
“Mmmm okay, but if you wanna switch at any point just tell me okay seriously” the genuine concern in his wide blue eyes made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside. truth be told, you really didn’t mind this set up because you’d be sleeping just a few feet away from him.
“Deal” you smiled back at him.
The group of you had a perfect evening. it was like something out of a hallmark movie, but by 2am everyone was going to sleep. Matt showered upstairs, which gave you time to get ready for bed and throw on your lame excuse for sleepwear—an oversized tshirt that hung to just above your knees. you’d never wished you’d overpacked and brought shorts more. you tried to cover up your exposed skin with blankets as you heard creaking from the steps. Matt trotted down in flannel pants and a black tank, hair still damp and clinging to his face from the shower. seeing him like that made your throat grow dry.
“Y’tired?” Matt asked, arranging his pillows on the couch so that his head would be by yours, your bodies creating a right angle on their separate resting spots.
“eh, not really. you?”
“nah, not so much. bit of a night owl lately, i guess.” he said, sitting down and beginning to rummage through his bag. you laughed.
“name a time in your life you’ve ever been a morning person?” you teased
“hey shhh i could be if i tried.” he shook his bag vigorously
“shit. think i forgot my phone charger”
“oh i have one, you can use it” you said hopping up to grab your stuff. you strode across the room towards your suitcase without thinking, but suddenly felt heat on the back of your neck like you were being watched. you glanced back at Matt and just barely caught him staring at your bare legs before he quickly looked away. you’d completely forgotten about your choice of outfit and felt embarrassment flush your cheeks.
“here y’go” you said shoving the wires in his direction, avoiding his eyes.
“uh thanks” he said, with equal avoidance. you reached to turn off the last light in the room in hopes that would drown out the awkwardness. Before you knew it the two of you were laughing and chatting away in the strained moonlight leaking in from the window. This went on for about 20 minutes before the chill coming from outside started to get to you. your teeth chattered slightly. mid sentence, Matt halted.
“what’s wrong?”
“oh nothing, just a little breezy here, it’s fine”
“what? you can’t sleep there then! you’ll get sick!” his protective nature was borderline heart melting.
“Matt c’mon. I’m not that weak, i’ll be fine. I’m not making you sleep here”
“Then share the couch with me at least”
his offer caught you off guard and you paused for a second, processing before answering.
“you sure?” you asked, unsteadily. another small moment of silence. was he regretting what he’d offered?
“yeah, of course” You detected a small crack in his voice.
“I don’t wanna crowd you—“ he cut you off
“y/n it’s fine seriously, just c’mhere. it’s just me, don’t be weird.” he answered, sounding almost more like he was trying to convince himself than you. you crept over to the couch. Matt was on his side, already holding his blanket up with his arm to give you a spot to slide into. at first you laid down face to face with him.
“hey” he said quietly, inches from you. you smiled up at him. it made your heart race to see him from this angle, this close. you were sure he could hear your heartbeat if you stayed like this a second longer, so you rolled over so your back was to him. matt made a funny noise, almost like he was clearing his throat. your knees hung off the couch slightly, so you backed up to not fall off. Matt let out a strained cough.
“Matt are you okay? you sound like—“ you started to turn your head to face him, and inadvertently twisted your hips against his body. you felt his hand latch onto your waist, halting it. he winced and let out a small hiss
“y/n please” tumbled out of his lips, his whole body going stiff.
“Matt what’s wrong? I—“ suddenly you became away of a hardness pressing against your lower back and ass. your breathing hitched. Matt was hard. and you could feel it. Matt was hard and was pressing against you, hell it had been caused by you.
“oh my god” you whispered.
“fuck y/n i’m so sorry—holy shit. this is awful. i feel disgusting. i never wanna make you uncomfortable i—“ he began to babble sounding on the verge of tears
“Matt no—“ he rolled onto his back looking up at the ceiling. you turned onto your side to face him.
“No, y/n. this is so bad-oh god. i was worried this would happen, i mean being anywhere near you i’d worry about that, but i thought i could control myself and fuck i’m so sorry“
“wait what do you mean you worried?”
“come on, y/n. you’re the most beautiful girl i’ve ever seen. of course i’d worry, but you’re also one of my best friends so—“
“you think i’m beautiful?” matt paused and looked at you in the eye.
“are you joking, y/n?” you shook your head.
he took a deep breath before continuing.
“I think you’re the most beautiful girl in the world” you exhaled rockily, scanning his eyes.
“and i can’t believe this is how i’m telling you that or i did anything to make you feel—“
“Matty, stop” you said, putting a hand lightly to his chest. it heaved at your touch.
“you didn’t do anything wrong, at all. i just never knew you saw me the way the way i see you”
“y’mean you—?” you bit your lip and smiled at him, nodding. he let out an exhale of relief and excitement and smiled back at you. he inched closer to your face, hesitantly.
“can i kiss you?” you nuzzled your nose slightly against his.
“yes, Matt” he leaned the rest of the way in and gently pressed his warm pillowy lips against yours. the feeling was better than you could’ve ever imagined. he pulled away, not wanting to seem too eager or pushy, and waited for you. you glanced from his eyes to his mouth before pushing back against him. this kiss was different from the last. there was fire and passion to it. your lips began to meld together, creating a rhythm as his hands reached for your waist. you wrapped an arm around his neck and ran your hand through his hair, which resulted in a huffing of air from his mouth into yours. his tongue slid against your bottom lip, asking for permission, which you immediately granted. you pressed your lower half against his. he grunted and squeezed your hip. smiling against your lips he rasped out
“careful there, problem from earlier is not exactly gone yet” your stomach flipped
“good” you breathed out, pressing your bodies flush again. he looked at you wide eyed, his pupils dilating, before diving in for the heaviest kiss yet. you lifted your leg up slightly, wrapping it around him. the move caused your shirt to slide up to the top of your hip. matt ran his hand up your thigh and gripped your ass causing you to let out a small whine. he bit at your lip slightly and used this new hold on your lower half to move himself between your legs further and on top of you. he pulled away from you to take off his shirt and you felt heat electrify your body at the sight of him uncovered in the weak blueish light. he smiled at you shyly before kissing you again. one strong hand began to trail over the sensitive skin of your stomach, up your shirt, sending ripples of buzzing through your body as the tips of his hand approached your braless chest. Matt ran his fingers delicately over your nipples, hardening at his slightly cold touch. you shuddered.
“can i take this off?” he said, tugging at the hem. you nodded vigorously and helped him pull it over your head, leaving you in nothing but your underwear. you fought the urge to cover yourself as his eyes engulfed the sight of you.
“god you’re so perfect” he almost moaned out. you giggled and tightened your legs around his lower half, encouraging him back down to you gently. the feeling of his warm bare chest against yours made you let out a sigh. he leaned his head into the crook of your neck, breathing hot warm air against your sensitive skin before gently sucking and pulling through his teeth. you whimpered into him, wrapping your hands back into his hair. he retaliated by starting to grind his hips against your heat, the feeling of his hard on painfully present. your two most desperate spots only separated by your underwear and his pj bottoms.
“Matt—“ you moaned out
“hmmmm?” he hummed into your neck. you needed him in ways you couldn’t explain. you squirmed beneath him. he pulled away to look at you and raise an eyebrow.
“what is it, beautiful?” he cooed, making you flustered. you pushed your hips back up at him, unable to come up with words.
“ohh i see” he chuckled out. you felt a flash of embarrassment and tried to cover your hands with your face. he grabbed your wrists lightly and lowered them.
“Want me to make you feel good, ma?” he said softly into your ear as he dragged his hand down your stomach and to the waistband of your underwear. you whimpered, desire crying out for contract between your legs. he lowered his fingers over the thin cloth that covered your pussy and dragged them up and down, giving you a teasing amount of friction.
“more, Matty, please” you cried out. he gingerly pushed the fabric aside and ran his fingers along your dripping folds
“god you’re so wet” he whispered out in awe, looking down at you , hungrily. he seemed almost in a trace, but the torment was too much for you. you grabbed his wrist and guided his hand, positioning his finger tips at your entrance. his breathing shallowed as he looked up at you while inserting his digits deep into your core. you became a mess as Matt continued to pump his fingers in and out of you, curling them upwards expertly.
“fuck i could watch you like this forever” he panted
“mmmm feels—ss—so good, matt”
“god you don’t know what you’re doing to me, ma” your walls clenched at the thought of his hard length. you reached down between your bodies and palmed at his crotch. he let out a groan. his impressively large hard on throbbed under your touch, straining against his pants.
“oh my god, y/n” he mumbled, closing his eyes. you’d never seen anyone look so sexy before.
“Matt, I want you” you gasped, without thought. his eyes flickered open, his pupils were blown.
“Are—are you sure?” he said, struggling to breathe.
“I’m sure” Matt reached to untie his drawstring. you watched him, closely, as he loosed his pants and lowered them. your mouth watered at the sight of his large rock hard dick slapping against his stomach, the tip already dripping precum. he leaned back over you and began to line himself up with your entrance. nerves shot through your body.
“wait matt”
“what? whats wrong? should i stop?” he said, looking up at you with worry
“No, no definitely not, i—i just—i haven’t done this before?”
“Oh” he said smiling with relief
“Are you sure you want to? we can wait i’m fine to wait. i don’t wanna do anything you’re not ready for”
“NO!” you said a little too eagerly “I really want to” you finished shyly
“Okay” he chuckled. He realigned himself and gave you a gentle kiss
“This is probably gonna hurt a bit, okay? we can stop any time you want to” you nodded and he began to push his tip slowly into your entrance. you cried out at the feeling of him stretching your insides so much. he paused for a moment.
“do you want to stop?” he said sweetly
“No. keep going” you said wincing. he pushed himself to the base of his cock and moaned at feeling you completely around him. he slowly began to slide himself in and out of your pussy. the pain started to turn into pleasure.
“go faster, matty, please” he listened and began to pick up his pace, creating a delicious rhythm and hitting your sweet spot deep inside of you with each thrust. you let out a string of curses and cries at the sensation.
“fuck you feel so good around my dick, baby”
“oh god don’t stop”
“you like that, sweet girl”
“yes—fuck yes—i like it so much”
“you’re so fucking perfect, princess. god i love being inside of you”
“Matt—oh my god—fuck—I—“ you felt a tightening in the pit of your stomach as your buildup started to reach its peak.
“you gonna cum, sweetheart?” Matt lowered one of his hands to press on your lower stomach, where he was deep inside of you. your vision began to blur.
“Let go, baby. Cum for for me” your hearing buzzed and you saw flashes of white as you came undone. Your walls clenched around Matt’s cock causing his thrusts to become sloppy.
“fuck, gorgeous i’m close—where do you want me to—“ he panted out
“just keep going, matty” you cooed still coming down from your high
“wh—you-you sure?” he questioned fighting off his release
“yes, don’t stop. keep going for me”
“oh my ffu—god-yes—anything for you” he stuttered
“fuck baby i’m gonna cum”
“yeah? cum inside me, matty, please”
“OH GOD FUCK Y/N”
“i wanna feel you cum”
“OH—IM CUMMING—OH FUCK—“ Matt cried out thrusting into you, wildly. He halted deep inside you as he released hot spurts of his cum into your core. he collapsed, panting heavily. after a moment, he pulled out and quickly leaned back down to give you a kiss before reaching to grab you your shirt. you smiled at each other, sheepishly, as you got redressed. he pulled you tightly against him and ran his hand down the back of your head, soothingly.
“How was that?”
“Perfect” you mumbled into his chest, breathing him in.
“Yeah?” he chuckled into your hair. you nodded.
“I’d say so too.” he said.
“I’ve always dreamed of getting to hold you like this” he whispered
“really?”
“mhm”
“me too” he paused for a moment
“what would you think of maybe being something where we could always be like this?”
you pulled away to look at him and he grinned at you. you pulled him in for the biggest kiss you muster.
—————————————————————————
why am i gonna cry? WHY CANT THE MEN I MAKE UP IN MY HEAD BE REAL.
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kykyonthemoon · 2 months
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How to function your very tall boyfriend
Having troubles reaching things that are too high for you? Don't fret. That's what having a really tall boyfriend for.
A request by Sora.
🌻 Character x F!Reader Xavier, Zayne, Rafayel and Caleb (first time writing for Caleb <3)Tags: soft, sweet, lovers, established relationship.This fic is for short girlies like me out there <3
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𝑿𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒆𝒓
You stood on tiptoe, reaching the full length of your arm towards the row of shelves in front of you. A finger touched the box but you still couldn't get it. You looked around the archives, looking for the help of a ladder, chair, or anything. Then, the door opened, and you saw Xavier's face peeking inside.
Without waiting for him to speak, you waved to your savior. You looked at him, then pointed to the box located at the highest position on the shelf. 
"You want me to get it down for you?"
You gave him a nod. And, with a gust of wind, he appeared right next to you.
Your hair was still hanging over your face from the breeze that had just passed. When you recovered consciousness, you noticed that the box you required was in Xavier's hands.
“Wooooooooow!”
That was all you could say. Your eyes widened and looked at him, mixed with admiration and gratitude.
Xavier maintained a somewhat tired expression on his face. He handed you the package and said in a calm tone:
“Do you need anything else?”
Your gaze was still locked on Xavier. As usual, he was already quite attractive, but when he rushed to your side and grabbed stuff for you in the blink of an eye, his coolness grew tremendously in proportion to your heartbeat.
"I need… that one!"
You pointed your finger at another row of shelves. In truth, you already had everything you needed for the mission, but watching more of Xavier using his skills in bringing everything from a higher place down for you wouldn't hurt.
"Okay."
As soon as he finished speaking, Xavier dashed to the shelf before returning to your side. All in a blink of an eye!
"That one too!" You pointed your finger in another way. "This one! That one! Two up there!…”
In only a few minutes, all the boxes stacked on high shelves were brought down and placed around you to form a wall made of cardboard.
"Woooooooow! "Xavier, you're so cool!"
You couldn't help but blurt out, causing the skin on his face below his blue eyes to grow scarlet. He came closer, put the last box in your hand and said:
“I've taken down all the things from higher shelves for you. Isn't it time I received my reward?”
Caught off guard when he suddenly leaned closer, you blushed a little in reply:
“Y-You… What do you want then…?…”
Xavier smiled mysteriously. He turned sideways and pointed at his cheek.
“You already know.”
Embarrassed, you placed a quick kiss on it. Xavier seemed unsatisfied.
“You really don't need all of these boxes, right? I heard that Jena will cut off the bonuses if she catches anyone tampering with the team's records. I can assist you clean up, but the prize must be more than this."
You chuckled. You'd become accustomed to his solicitation tactics.
"Please help me then. I assure you'll be pleased with the latter prize." After that, you lifted up his chin and gave Xavier an even deeper kiss on the opposite cheek.
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𝒁𝒂𝒚𝒏𝒆
You were used to visiting Zayne's house every weekend or on days off. Even when he was not home, you still liked to be there waiting for his return. You had a habit of eating snacks, especially sweets. So you brought a lot of things to his house to eat together. And always, he kept them nicely organized in the refrigerator or cupboards over the stove.
But sometimes, he put them out of your reach. At moments like that, you called out his name from the kitchen.
“Doctor Zayne. Doctor Zayne. Doctor Zayneeeee.”
He appeared soon after. On the bridge of his nose was still a pair of reading glasses. He carefully adjusted it and sighed.
“What do you need this time?”
“That jar of fruit gummies.” You pointed at it.
“I'm not your ladder.” Despite his grumbling, Zayne still took it down for you. With his height, it did not appear to be a problem at all.
"Thank you." You said. “I don't want to bother you. Why did you have to put my snacks so high up there?”
“I put it away so some sweet-loving worm doesn't eat too much.”
“I'm not a worm.” You replied, pouting. Zayne patted your head.
"Alright. Would you like anything else?"
Zayne kept telling you not to eat too many snacks, but he still took them all down. He separated them into parts and placed them on a large plate. The rest was put away to make sure you did not consume too much.
Knowing he was concerned about your health, you didn't ask for anything else but ate all of the treats he brought out. However, it was only when Zayne was away that you could properly appreciate his caring nature. Outside your snack cupboard was a letter with Zayne's handwritten words, which you took forever to read. It turned out he had moved your food to another place within your reach. Inside that cabinet was a candy tray with a lid. Zayne had prepared everything for you, with one additional note: Don't eat too much.
You burst out laughing. In response to his concern, you decided to rearrange his working space. Because he had left in a hurry to go to the hospital that day, his books were still not put away. That night, you caught him walking back and forth in front of his bookshelf, his expression rather serious.
“Did you rearrange the bookshelf?”
"Yes."
You replied. He placed his both hands on the bookshelf in front of him, skimming through the book titles printed on the spine. The book he had been reading in the morning was nowhere to be seen. Rather, you slithered right into the gap between his arms, making him turn to face you.
The sudden close distance made him a bit surprised. However, he maintained his composure and gazed down at you. The book he was looking for was in your hand. He smiled:
"What's wrong? You couldn't put it back since you found its place to be too high?"
You said with a pout, "If that's the case, then I won't give it to you."
You hid the book behind your back. WWho would have imagined that Dr. Zayne would boldly lean down, one arm around your waist to draw you in, while the other hand taking the book away from you.
You could hear his heartbeat matching yours as he pressed his body against you to return that book to its proper place on the shelf. He looked down at you, who was extremely confused. You asked:
“Aren't you going to read it?”
"No. I'm preoccupied with something else.”
He leaned down again, and kissed you.
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𝑹𝒂𝒇𝒂𝒚𝒆𝒍
Your favorite store had just been redecorated, and the items you needed had been moved elsewhere. Most of them were within your reach, but some decorations with lights were located high up. You turned around to look for help, but the store staff was already busy with another customer. So you looked in the other direction, where you found Rafayel staring at some little decorative fish bowls.
“Rafayel. Please help me get this thing.”
Rafayel turned to face whichever way your finger was pointing. He would waste no effort to reach the lamp you needed. He placed his hand on a spherical night lamp.
"Is this the one?"
"Not that one. The one in purple.”
His hand went to another. "This?"
“Nooooo. I said the purple one…”
"This one has purple in it." Rafayel put his hand on a purple lamp, but it wasn't what you wanted.
“Rafayel. The purple one. In the shape of a jellyfish."
“Hmm…” Rafayel pretended not to see what you described, even though it was right in front of him. "All I see is a seahorse and a whale."
He's definitely teasing you. You scowled:
“I'm not joking with you, Rafayel. Get the jellyfish lamp!”
“Are you sure?” He reposed the question with great seriousness. “This jellyfish is so ugly and painful to look at that my eyes automatically ignore it.”
You puffed your cheeks and said each word clearly: “Take. That. Jellyfish. Lamp!"
"Okay." Rafayel gave a shrug. At last, his hand found the precise object you wanted. He lifted it. But instead of placing it in your eagerly outstretched palms, he put it on a higher shelf.
“Rafayel!” YYou yelled out of rage. He grinned from ear to ear.
“Here, you told me to take it, so I took it. You didn't mention that I had to give it to you"
“You!… Argghhh!…”
You were so furious that you failed to speak. You stood on your tiptoes and jumped up, trying to grab the item, but Rafayel raised the object entirely.
“Give it to me! Give it to me!” You danced in a circle around Rafayel, who was clutching the jellyfish lamp like a trophy. All eyes in the store turned to both of you. You stopped. Your face was red, both from anger and embarrassment.
You looked at Rafayel, who was teasing you with that handsome but punchable face. Then, like a light bulb had just turned on in your head, you thought of a way to "repress" him.
Your hands stretched out. Rafayel thought you were aiming for the lamp so he raised it even higher. But it was his collar you were after. He wasn't on guard so you pulled him down so easily, so close. Until your lips touch his delicate ones.
Rafayel rolled his eyes. He was so surprised. Taking advantage of the situation when his arm was gradually falling, you immediately grabbed the jellyfish lamp and stepped back, holding it triumphantly in your arms.
“Ha! I snatched it from you!”
Rafayel was in disbelief. He had earlobes the color of ripe tomatoes. With one hand softly brushing his lips, he turned to face you.
“You… cheated.” He said, "In that case, you can snatch me too!"
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𝑪𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒃
It had been a long time since both Caleb and you had a chance to go home to visit Grandma. A family meal was inevitable. He took you to the supermarket near your house to shop and prepare dinner.
Caleb knew too much about your taste. You simply followed him and let him select nearly everything. But when you were walking by the snack shelves, your gaze unintentionally paused at the top row, where there was a particular kind of cookie that you and Caleb used to enjoy together as children.
After noticing your halt, Caleb turned to face you.
“Oh, they still sell this?” He spoke up.
“I want to buy it!” You told him. One hand reached up but you couldn't get the snacks. You heard Caleb laughing hysterically next to you. You folded your arms and pouted: "What are you laughing at?" Why don't you get it for me?"
"I assumed you could handle anything on your own since you're already an adult." Caleb made a joke. “Remember when we were kids? Every time you couldn't reach something, you ran to me and tugged my arm?”
You reminisced about your childhood days. Whenever you needed to get something from a high place, the first person you called was Caleb. He would bend down so you could climb on his shoulders and then carry you like that until you got what you wanted.
“Yeah. I remember." You replied. “But why— Ouch!”
Caleb suddenly bent down, wrapped his muscular arms around your thighs and lifted you up.
“Caleb?! What are you doing?!" Your arms wrapped around Caleb's neck, holding on tight as if your life depended on this. You looked down at Caleb's grinning face. He responded:
“I'm helping you get your cookies.”
“N-Not like this!…” You blushed. You had grown up and no longer the innocent little girl you used to be. Being lifted up by him like this made you extremely timid. “People… People are looking at us…”
“Ignore them.” Caleb paid no attention to his surroundings. “Just look at me.”
You felt the heat radiating from your cheeks. Caleb didn't stop there, he asked you:
"Ready?"
"Huh?"
Without waiting for your response, he spun around so fast in that posture, which made you scream suddenly. You leaned entirely on Caleb, counting on him to keep you both balanced. He continued to rotate a few more times, before becoming lightheaded himself. Then he came to a complete halt and rested his back against the shelf.
You both burst into laughter. Laughing until your stomach muscles start to hurt. But Caleb still didn't let you go. He breathed heavily and said:
“I just remembered. Besides helping you get things from high places, I also helped you climb that wall when you snuck out without Gran knowing!"
“It was completely your idea!” You pinched his nose. “After that, both of us got grounded by Grandma.”
"Sorry." Caleb chuckled. “Shall I make it up to you with cookies?”
“Then help me up a little higher.” You uttered it out with joy. “Let's buy all the cookies here!”
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cherryredcheol · 24 days
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two boyfies
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tldr: do you actually have two boyfriends like jeonghan said? and why doesn't cheol know? a/n: god, the way i feel about this man should be criminal... references to: drinking and a brief mention of sex
the latest episode of your drama had just finished when seungcheol walked through the door. he was right on time, just like he said he’d be. you were so delighted to see him, running to the door before he could even get both his shoes off, wrapping your arms tightly around his middle. 
“missed you,” you tried to convey the sweet message to him but the words came out muffled because of how your face was buried in his chest. 
he understood you nonetheless, he always did, “missed you too, baby.” he pulled you impossibly closer, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, breathing in your soft scent as he did so.
you two stayed like that for what felt like hours, just holding each other after a long day apart: him doing his schedules, you going to work. although you lived together now, it never felt like you’d get enough time with seungcheol. you’re not sure how you survived the days of living separately. 
“baby” he spoke softly, not wanting to disturb the peace in the apartment.
“hmm?” you hummed at him, acknowledging that you heard him but making no real attempt to remove yourself from him. 
you could hear the smile in his voice when he spoke, “hannie told me something crazy today and i just have to tell you.” 
this piqued your interest but not enough to get you to look at him, still content to listen to his steady heartbeat, “what?”
“he said,” seungcheol paused for dramatic effect, “that you told him you have two boyfriends.” 
you knew instantly what your (only) boyfriend was referring to. as a blush crept up your neck and onto your face you felt cheol’s chest shake with laughter, you whined and tried to bury yourself deeper into him, not wanting to face his teasing eyes yet. 
“know anything about that baby?” he asked, finally pulling back from you in an attempt to get you to look at him, a little smirk on his lips. 
your head swiveled around, looking around the apartment to find some excuse to get you out of this awkward moment created by your big mouth and your boyfriend’s best friend. 
seungcheol grabbed your chin, pulling your face to look at his, forcing your eyes to meet and in them, you saw nothing but mirth. 
your blush deepened and his smirk grew, “i asked you a question baby. don’t make me repeat myself” 
he released you and you groaned, wholly embarrassed, “cheollie, you know i only have eyes for you.” 
at this confession his smirk bloomed into a full, toothy grin. he could end it here, but he was enjoying seeing you squirm, “are you saying jeonghannie is a liar?” 
you rolled your eyes, “obviously not, he’s just not telling the whole truth.” 
“will you tell me the whole truth then?” he pouted at you, “spent the whole day thinking my baby had another boyfriend. am i not enough for you?” 
part of you wanted to walk away from him, leave the safe embrace of his arms, and rethink the offer on the tip of your tongue about making dinner. but you knew when cheol was playful like this, he wouldn’t let it go. he would keep badgering you all night to tell him what jeonghan had meant and if you really had another man besides him. 
“first of all, in my defense, i only told hannie that i had two boyfriends when i was drunk so you can’t really take my words at face value,” you were trying to rationalize it to him, make him understand the context of this situation you were about to explain to him. 
“you know what they say baby,” seungcheol continued to tease you, “drunk words are sober thoughts.” he looked so smug with his little smirk on, looking down his nose at you, nothing but completely endeared by your shyness. 
“the only thing i said to hannie was it was like i have two boyfriends. i have my seungcheollie and then s. coups.” you couldn’t even look at him as you said this, far too embarrassed by drunk you from a few weeks ago. seungcheol however couldn’t look away, somehow feeling more and more fond as the blush staining your face got impossibly deeper. 
“are they not the same, baby? both are me. how could they be different?” he was goading you on at this point. he knew what you meant, but he just wanted to hear you say it. 
“cheollie…” you whined. you knew he was just dragging this out to tease you further. 
he pulled you into his chest again, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead and you think you’re in the clear until you hear him murmur against your hairline, “explain it to me, baby”
you huff and whine against him, wanting to escape his hold and this embarrassment, but you know he won't let this go so you concede, dignity be damned, “its like you’re one person when its just you and i. that’s seungcheollie: all soft smiles and tight hugs. seungcheollie takes care of me in a way i never even knew i needed. he’s a lover boy” he hums and you can feel it reverberate in your chest that was tightly pressed against his. when he says nothing more, you take it as a cue to continue. “s. coups is sexy, domineering, and intimidating. he has this huge presence that’s impossible to ignore. he fucks. he’s different than just you cheollie, you know it.” 
at first, it was quiet and you thought the teasing was over. you were so embarrassed you had just admitted all of that to him, hoping he didn’t think you were a weirdo. 
then he giggles. his giggles trigger your own and suddenly you’re both holding each other, laughing in the entryway to your apartment, cheol with one shoe still on despite having gotten home a while ago. 
after the laughter subsides, he looks down at you, smiling fondly, “you’re so cute, baby. i love you so much. we both do.” 
he leans down for a kiss but you groan, pushing him away, walking towards the kitchen, intent on starting dinner but not sure if your boyfriend deserves it. 
he laughs, following behind you like a lost puppy, determined to show you how even though you feel like you have two boyfriends, you’re the only one for him. 
831 notes · View notes
tiazvni · 1 year
Text
no backtalk | multi.
words : 862
warnings : fem!reader, black coded, choking, squirting, mating press, backshots, dumbification <3
you squeak as your boyfriend pressed you further into the mattress, his heavy hand resting on your upper back, slotted just between your shoulder blades, forcing you into the meanest arch possible as he fucked you within an inch of your life.
his thrusts were deep in this position, and the sheer force of his strokes left you sobbing. with three orgasms having already been ripped from you previously - two from his thick fingers, and one from his mouth - your body has since gone limp, your mind buzzing with euphoric numbness.
“s-s’too deep, baby!”
your whines were hardly audible over the wet squelching of your pussy as he met you thrust for thrust, but from the sound of his airy laugh, you knew your boyfriend heard you loud and clear.
“too deep?” there was a teasing lilt to the low rumble of his voice. “you told me you could take it, sweetheart.”
oh, you know what you said, but that was the hennessy talking.
having been with your boyfriend for the past seven months, you felt that some liquid courage was required before telling him - the man with the biggest dick you’ve ever seen, and a cocky attitude to match - that you were finally ready for sex.
truth be told, drunk-you talked a big game. while you were normally shy and reserved, she had the confidence sober-you wished she could exude. your mind raced with flashbacks of you sitting on your boyfriend’s lap, whispering to him that you wanted to be stuffed full with his cock, boasting that you weren’t one for tapping out.
it was then when you realized that you bit off more than you could chew.
your breath catches after one particularly vicious thrust, feeling the bulbous head of his dick drag repeatedly against that spot deep within you that made you tremble and keen uncontrollably. though your cries were cut short when the hand keeping you molded to the mattress slithered around your throat, lifting you from your arch and pressing your back to his chest.
“and after all that backtalk.” he tsks, the warmth of his breath on the shell of your ear making you shudder. “i knew i’d have you dumb on my dick.”
you whimpered at the low timbre of his voice, nearing the precipice of your desire for a fourth time that night as his other hand snaked around to your front to rub tight circles on your clit. the overwhelming sensation makes your eyes roll back, your thighs shaking and pussy clenching as he continued to fuck you raw.
“shit,” he hissed, “you’re so fucking tight.”
he trembles behind you, groaning in your ear with each new thrust into your wet heat. a breathless giggle escaped your lips - you couldn’t help but feel a bit prideful at the thought of bringing such pleasure to a man whose body and stature were akin to a fucking god. that feeling was short-lived, though.
without any warning, he pulls out before manhandling you onto your back, towering above you with a feral glint in his eyes. he licked his lips at the sight of you - faux locs falling from your loose bun, bare breasts jiggling with each heaving breath, and shaky inner thighs glistening with your wet, creamy arousal.
you were absolutely breathtaking.
“so fucking pretty,” he hums, pushing your thighs to your chest to give himself a better view of your pussy. and without missing a beat he gripped his dick, pumping it a few times before slapping it against your clit.
you cry out, your eyes soon widening as he then teased your entrance with his tip, the slight stretch of his dick from this angle dangerous enough to make you delirious with both pain and pleasure.
“w-wait, wait!” you gasped, pressing against his abdomen the moment he sank a few inches deeper. “s’too much!”
“nah, move your hands,” he challenged. “you said you wanted to be full of my dick, right? let me fill you then.”
he bottoms out in one swift thrust before you can react, knocking the air from your lungs but still giving you a moment to adjust. it’s ridiculous how deep you could feel him - he was practically in your tummy.
“can’t believe you kept this pussy from me for seven months,” he seethes, but you hardly registered his words, or his tightened grip on your thighs. that blissful numbness in your brain had increased tenfold - nothing else mattered except how amazingly full you felt in that moment.
and then he started moving.
you screamed as the head of his dick attacked that spot within you once more - hard, heavy, and with timely precision - your voice reaching octaves neither of you were used to. the sensation had you quivering, your arousal suddenly squirting around his dick as your fourth orgasm hit you like a freight train.
“fuuuck,” your boyfriend groaned as he fucked you through it, shuddering at the feel of your cunt spasming around him. it nearly triggered his own release, but he managed to hold off, craving to have you completely and utterly pliant before finally giving into his primal urges.
“i hope you know we’re not done here, sweetheart.”
gojo, eren, toji, zeke, geto, reiner, choso, jean, and any of your faves <3
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pathetichimbos · 7 months
Text
Thomas cries a lot.
He's always been sensitive, every since he was a kid. The names other kids and hell, even adults called him cut deep every time he heard them.
Idiot.
Monster.
Freak.
Tears pluck at his brown eyes harshly as the majority of the schoolyard torments him, the teachers turning blind eyes to the mistreatment, too busy making their own comments about his mother and family to intervene.
"S-Stop--!" He hiccups, hands desperately covering his face as he shakes against the metal fence, "G-Give it back!"
"Come get it, Freak!" The little boy taunts him, holding the mask Thomas' mother made for him high in the air, the group of children around him erupting in laughter.
"HEY! What the hell's goin' on over here!?" Hoyt hollers as he yanks the bully up by his wrist, the kids mocking laughter interrupted as they scatter, "What the hell's wrong with you, boy!? Did your Daddy raise you to take shit that ain't yours!?"
Hoyt plucks the mask from the kid's hand as he shakes his head, wide eyed and scared at being caught red handed.
"That's what I thought, so why don't you scatter before I give him a call and tell him what the hell you've been doin'."
"Yes, sir!" The kid darts as soon as Hoyt lets him go.
"Little shit." Hoyt mutters, kneeling down to help Thomas put his mask back on, "Now, I done told you, Tommy, you can't cry everytime one of those little bastards says some shit to you. Man up, you're too damn old for all that whinin'..."
Thomas nods, wiping the tears from his red eyes as Hoyt takes him back to the truck.
Man up...
Man up...
That's what Hoyt and Monty always told him, their words not much kinder and cutting even deeper as they picked at him everytime he cried.
Over the years the tears eventually turned to anger, and isolation. Hiding himself away from everyone and everything around him, protecting himself from from harsh world around him.
...And then there was you.
Sweet, excitable, gentle you.
"...Tommy...!" Your voice is tired and sweet, clearly having just woken up when Thomas came in the room.
He watches as you stretch, waking up a bit more as you look up at him, a small smile on your face.
He's tired. It's written on his face, eyes droopy and shoulders slumping, standing over the bed, looking down at you.
"C'mere." You reach for him, hands grasping as you gesture for him to climb in bed.
He does as he's told, climbing under the covers and into your arms, melting into your warmth as he lays on top of you.
"Mmm..." You hum, relaxing as your arms wrap around him, your hands running up and down his back, sending shivers up his spine, "...My Thomas..."
He sighs at your words, melting even further against you as your hands gain rhythm and begin rubbing his aching muscles, working up and down his shoulders and back as he buries his face in your neck.
You lean your head against his, the smell of the shampoo you bought for him filling your nose as you continue rubbing his back, "...I love you..."
The arms around your waist tighten as he presses further into you, completely engulfing you in his presence.
How?
How is it possible for you to love him so incredibly, and so deeply that he doesn't even need to hear those words to know their truth? How could you possibly break down every piece of him, every broken part and hideous truth and still make him feel like the only thing that matters in the world?
You can feel him start to shake. He's been working so hard, for so long. He's exhausted, and worn down. His body is scarred and calloused. His mind is weary and weak.
And every insult, every hit, every bad thing that he's ever gone through was worth it, if it means he can feel this loved for the rest of his life.
You feel his tears before you see them, the quiver in his shoulders, the hiccups in your ear as he tries to hold it back.
"Oh, Tommy..." You mutter, kissing his hair as you rub his back, "It's okay, sweetheart, you can cry, I've got you..."
And for the first time in a long time, he does.
He cries into your shoulder, a shaking and sobbing mess as you patiently hold him through it, running your hands through his hair and rubbing his back as you coax him.
"There we go..." You coo as he pulls back, holding his face in your hands while you kiss his tear stained cheeks, his mask long forgotten before he climbed into bed, "Do you feel better, love?"
He nods, letting out a deep sigh as he relaxes against you again, feeling more relief than he has in years.
"Good..."
...Thomas cries a lot. After years of believing he was never good enough to be loved, of believing his place was being locked away in the basement, forever shielding himself from the world that hated him, he was proven wrong by a single person who loves him more than every good thing put together.
And that thought alone brings tears to his eyes.
2K notes · View notes
lorelune · 4 months
Text
cicatrix
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|| jing yuan x reader || E/18+ || hurt/comfort, cathartic smut || wc: 21.5k  || ao3 ||
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Both you and Jing Yuan are known to put well-being aside for the sake of others. You reckon with it.
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minors, antis and ageless blogs dni
notes: i've been COOKING!!!! please enjoy this very cathartic, gooey oneshot 😩💕!!!!! jing yuan is so beloved and getting to chew on him and his character makes me wanna roll around and scream (positive). thank you so much to bee (@suguwu) for talking this piece out w me each step of the way and andy (@andypantsx3) for a so helpful final read through 🥺🩷 read and enjoy loves!!!
CW: reader is referred to with they/them pronouns and afab anatomy, author-created lore & worldbuilding, reader visibly loses weight due to bodily stress, general talk of weight and bodies, reference to pain during intimacy, a single pregnancy joke made entirely in jest
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“You should go see him.”
This is not the first time Diviner Fu has told you this. It’s actually the third time. It’s her third time attempting to have this particular conversation with you, one which you are becoming increasingly adept at parrying around. 
“Who?” You lie. You already know who.
“The General?” Fu Xuan sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose. “He’s awake, you know. Barely. But he has asked for you. Both while he was mostly unconscious and since he’s regained his lucidity. Go see him.”
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“I’ll pass.” You shift on your knees with a heavy thump. Bone on metal. “Besides, can’t you, of all people, see I am hard at work here? I don’t exactly have the time for personal visits at the moment.”
That is not a lie. That is a steadfast truth. One both you and Fu Xuan, as the Master Calibrator and the Master Diviner respectively, fully understand.
Fu Xuan has sought you out deep within the Luofu’s inner structure. Far below the sprawl of metal-plated cities and neighborhoods, are the catacomb intestines you’ve been toiling in for... sometime now. Since whenever the Lord Ravager harnessed the Arbor, and the roots of a dead tree powered by an Aeon mutilated the Luofu’s most delicate innards. Innards you need to fix, rather than having frustrating conversations with Lady Fu.
You tap around on the interface on your wrist-bound jade abacus and curse. Your fingers are newly calloused, irritated at the tips from all of the poking and prodding you’ve had to do. You dip your hands into one of the opened buckets fastened to your belt, pulling forth when you’re sticky with iridescent sludge that slowly drips down your wrist like thick syrup. 
Returning to the utility panel you were previously working on before being interrupted, you tinker with a few of its delicate dials. All thrown off by the overabundance of... Abundance and the physical impact of the roots growth, deeper in the Luofu’s structure. You concentrate and thread quantum with the sap on your hands, trying to coax the machines into a more stable stasis. 
“At least consider it.” Fu Xuan says. Technically, she could order you, as she is on some administrative level, your superior and (from what you last heard) the acting General of the Luofu while the Divine Foresight has been indisposed. And yet, she does not force you. 
“Fine. I’ll consider it— if and when the Luofu is running diagnostic assessments with an average above fourty.”
“That’s— somewhat agreeable. But, I do think you’re being entirely—”
“Foolish?” You interrupt her with a laugh.
“Childish.” Fu Xuan taps her foot. The sound bounces around the narrow passageway, rattling into your skull. “Can the two of you not talk like adults and settle things?”
“I’m not sure what there is to ‘settle’ with him, Lady Fu.” You twitch your index and pinky finger at the same time. The internals sing, a hymn you know, the chord is a step or two too low— fucker. “He did something supremely stupid, and I am working.”
“That’s an obtuse way to look at things, and you know it.”
“In what way?” You crack open your eyes. You hadn’t realized you’d shut them. You’re sure they’re bloodshot. “What do you think about the General’s actions in subduing the Lord Ravager, Lady Fu?”
“I do believe he was reckless— as reckless as that man allows himself to be.” Fu Xuan has clearly thought about this before. Frustration pinches in her voice. “But it was not without the results.”
“So calculated recklessness is fine if, in the worst case, you end up as the Luofu’s next Arbiter General?”
“You’re putting words in my mouth.”
“I am.” You say, sighing. Anger prickles under your skin. This is all easier to deal with (read: ignore) if you focus on the ship and its internals. Its stupid, destroyed, obliterated internals. “I apologize.”
“When was the last time you slept?” Fu Xuan asks.
“... Yesterday? Probably?” There’s no daylight. You conserve battery life on your various devices by keeping screens dim, so you don’t know the hour. Time has felt liquid for some time now.
“I could take over.” Fu Xuan suggests.
“You still have a ship to run, I assume. Unless the Divine Foresight was so eager to get back to work already.”
“... Tasks can be delegated accordingly.”
“It’s not necessary.” You shake your head. “I mean this as no slight, but the rate at which you would be able to complete repairs and calibrations would be at the same rate at which the ship’s fail-safes and functions are degrading. It isn’t worth it.”
Perhaps, under different circumstances, Fu Xuan would squawk at you for discounting her skills as a calibrator so quickly. She is trained, not to your degree or expertise, but in a pinch, she can complete repairs, hear the chords, see the quantum maps required to keep the Luofu and its many delicate parts and pieces functioning accordingly. 
However, the Luofu’s current circumstances do not constitute a ‘pinch’ and rather a ‘once-in-an-era disaster that nearly killed the long-lived, beloved General, destroyed the longstanding Creation Furnace, revealed the previous disgraced High Elder of the Vidhaydara, nearly reawoke the Ambrosial Arbor’. And, as Jing Yuan had told you in confidence— “It’s a Stellaron.”
And hence, you and your expertise are best-suited for the task of repairing the insides of the Luofu. 
“... Even still.” She says somewhat gravely. “This is unsustainable.”
“I recognize that.” And you do, childish avoidance of the General aside. “Once the ship’s up to forty percent attuned, the diagnostic algorithms attached to the internal citrine abaci should stabilize and begin to re-establish a self-healing cycle. At which point, my manual diagnostics and repairs will no longer be necessary at the level at which I’m completing them now.”
“What percentage attuned is the Luofu at, as of now?”
“... Twenty-seven.” This is, technically, the truth. 
(However, you have little confidence in that number, as it fluctuates heavily based on time of day and your own location within the tunnels and mechanical catacombs. You imagine this may be due to any number of things— there may be a gamma leak down deeper, where the radiation sponges are not as effective. There could still be creatures and roots of Abundance, alive in the passageways, wreaking havoc on the systems in real time. The diagnostic systems themselves could be failing, or at the very least damaged, which means that prescribing a number at all to the Luofu’s condition is a stupid idea to begin with—)
Fu Xuan says your name sharply.
“Yes?” 
“... I’m worried.”
“That’s probably for the best.” You wish there was more sympathy in your voice, but it sounds cold and outside of your body. 
(You’re so tired.)
Fu Xuan sighs, and drops to her knees next to you, peering in one the copper box you’ve been wrist deep in for the better part of ten minutes. Distractions slow down the process so immensely. 
“Your reasoning is sound, and I understand that this isn’t entirely some ploy to skirt around the General’s requests to see you.” Fu Xuan hands you a small pendant, cut of purple stone and lit from the inside out. “Please, wear this. It will transmit your vital signs and location to a monitor on the surface.”
You blanch, “Is this for you, or the General?”
“For the Divination Commission on paper.” Fu Xuan loops it around your neck. “You’re the only Master Calibrator on the Luofu. To lose track of you, or lose you, would be dire. It will also assuage some of the General’s anxieties and keep him from pestering me about you.
“The general, anxious?” You throw back your head with a laugh and withdraw your hands from the paneling. The sludge has liquified further, more mucus-y now as it drips down your forearms. You wipe away what remains with a well-used rag from your belt. “I’ve never known Jing Yuan to be anxious.”
“He is now.” Fu Xuan says simply. “Or, as much as he allows himself to be. I am not interested in delving into the General’s psychology, but I am interested in keeping you in decent condition. That pendant has an emergency function. If you tap it three times, it’ll send a distress signal with your location.”
You want to say that that’s ‘unnecessary’, but you know that’s your bad mood. There’s a reason why Fu Xuan made this journey, alone, and is speaking to you so frankly. There are bags under her eyes too.
“Thank you, Fu Xuan.” You say, softly, kinder than you have been. 
Despite your grime, perhaps mutual, you wrap your arms around her shoulders and squeeze. She hugs you back and deflates, if only for a moment.
...
The Luofu’s utility organs are built downwards, filling what would be considered the ‘hull’ of the ship, until you hit the Hall of Karma. There’s insulation between the ship’s most vital part and the weary souls of the departed, which provides you some comfort as you must descend deeper and deeper. 
The Luofu is as much a ship as it is a planet— a live ecosystem, adapted to fit the various immortals who call it home. The bowels of the Luofu are truthfully a combination of metal and plant matter— dirt and mechanical roots meant to hold the ground in one piece around you. Much of the organic matter of the ship is covered behind metal plating, lest risking a collapse.
Most of the damage you must tinker to fix occurs in the small, delicate panels that are placed in the walls every ten meters or so. They’re nondescript, mostly. Surrounded by a few various dials— a few circular meters are faded and out of use (relics from when the Luofu left its parent civilization, millenia ago), and a port to sync up a jade abacus to for more detailed readings.
Most of the data is slop to someone without training.
Even with training, your exhaustion is making the various numbers, symbols, and graphs feel like slop. 
The panel can be disconnected with a small, quill-looking tool (there’s only a small amount left on the Luofu, maybe twenty in total. The head of the tool is carved from an old, red stone, burnt in an old fire by a forgemaster long dead. You keep track of your handful diligently, lest you lose them without another smith to make them.) Once the utility panel is pried off, it reveals a suspended layer of liquid, far deeper than it looks. If you really tried, you probably could fit your entire arm in and still have depth.
Suspended in the liquid are the mechanisms that truly run the Luofu. It’s hard to describe how they fit together. It takes an affinity for quantum, a century (or three) of training, to make sense of how to parse together the ship's parts. The parts are various small machines, crystals, living ecosystems bound into balls and sustained by astrosynthesis beyond this world.
You’re used to the awe of it.
Along your waist, you carry several pots of stellar lubricant. The grease provides... some amount of slip when poking around in it yourself. It resonates with the quantum and allows you to see the stretches of energy that allow the ship to run as it does. Tender leylines, woven threads, songs and hymns that are of many familiar beats and melodies. 
Everything slips together as you pull yet another panel from a wall. The mechanisms sing out of tune, in dissonant chords, off-beat in the wrong time signature.
You dunk your hands into the lubricant, ignoring the slowly erupting burns on your forearms from over-exposure.
You shove your hands into the wall. You work. You fix. 
...
Not so long ago, you and Fu Xuan were not the only two Calibrator on the Xianzhou Alliance’s Luofu. There had been an apprentice in the Divination Commission who was studying, seeking mastery, just as you yourself had. They were more skilled than Lady Fu in the arts of calibration. You think they hailed from the Yaoqing. They were soft, gentle-hearted and young by the standards of Xianzhou natives.
So perhaps, this is why they became Marastruck in the mouth of one of the utility tunnels after seeing footage of the Divine Foresight being dragged unconscious and limp into the apothecary. Gingko leaves tearing their skin, an unholy sob turning to a shriek to cut the air. You were lucky the transformation occurred while you were above ground, and a patrol of Cloud Knights was nearby.
You’re probably lucky that you hadn’t (haven’t) succumbed to Mara. If you were a few centuries younger and less trained in the arts of meditation, you might have been swallowed up like the apprentice had been.
Jing Yuan, for all of his many games and schemes and tricks, radiates the air of someone almost infallible. He is not perfect; he has never been one for edges that are too manicured. He’s far more content dozing the afternoon away or taking a stroll through one of his gardens than hosting war-meetings. He prefers to wear plain clothes to the market in hopes he will not be recognized (though, he always is). 
But, he is strong and remarkably difficult to phase or bother in any setting. On more than one occasion, you’ve spent the evening trying to rile him up and get him to pounce, but the General is always content to watch your attempts with a lazy smile on his face. Content to sweetly watch you struggle in getting under his skin. He may be affected, but he is hard to break. If he does, it is with such grace that you wouldn’t have any idea he did break, and it feels as if you’ve somehow slipped, rather than him. He is cunning and sure-footed in a way that you can’t help but admire. 
You’re not the only one to feel that way.
(Though, you’re the only one who shares a bed with him. So.)
The Xianzhou has little place for legends, yet Jing Yuan is old enough and well-thought of enough to have become one. So, you cannot blame the apprentice for falling to Mara. Not when they, and the rest of the Luofu, saw a legend buckle at the knees. 
...
You were right about diagnostics being inaccurate. However, the reason was a mix of your two initial hypotheses. 
Parts of the diagnostic system, deep and low within the Luofu’s internal organs, had been damaged. Radiation leaks from the core of the ship, usually held back by sponges and filters, was drifting upward to damage any number of sensors and organic processes keeping the Luofu operational.
(All useless details really, none of it makes sense anymore. The ship is fucked. You must fix it.)
And you have been fixing it. 
You reek of stellar lubricant, skin stained pearly and glittery under the fluorescent lights that dot the tunnels. Your eyes ache; it’s gotten quite difficult to focus them. You’re lucky that there’s occasional spigots tapped into the walls, with some type of freshwater flowing from them, even if it does take awhile for any liquid to run. They probably haven’t been used in decades— maybe centuries. Most of the internals of the Luofu heal and repair on their own. 
A calibrator would only need to step-in in the case of a calamity.
Time has gotten slippery. Though you send up status reports (of varying quality) through your wrist-bound jade abacus, you can’t say it’s on a schedule. You do them when you have the mental fortitude to craft something acceptable for the Divination Commission to scoff at. 
You’re tired, maybe.
There are some mediary chambers between levels. Old, dust-covered rooms with a cot and some rations. Though you raid the ones you come across for emergency food stores, you don’t stay to sleep. You usually keel over on the metal flooring with your outermost robe thrown over you like a blanket. Your pillow is your own folded hands. 
It’s viciously uncomfortable, but you find sleeping difficult regardless. The offensively bright grow lights are sensitive to flesh life, and will not turn off in your presence. The floor is sometimes searingly warm, sometimes ice cold. If you stop working, your own thoughts threaten to swallow you whole. You only achieve sleep in brief moments, perhaps a few hours at a time, when you’re entirely spent. 
It is unpleasant sleep. A mix of recent horrors and faraway comforts.
(You initially heard from Fu Xuan what Jing Yuan had done.)
(Shortly after, footage was posted of the Divine Foresight, unconscious and being dragged across the Luofu for medical attention. Jing Yuan was entirely unresponsive and cradled in the arms of the Vidharayda’s... reawoken? Returned? (You stay out of Lizard Politics.) (Regardless, it still burns.))
(There’s chaos in the sounds captured on the video, the shocked, disbelieving voices.)
(You had turned off your phone (you have still yet to turn it back on) and dragged the apprentice to the tunnels. You ignored their crumbled expression and all of their disbelief. It would not serve either of you— anyone— in that moment. This was foolish of you.)
(You remember your apprentice and how their panic grew to Mara so quickly. How they looked sick to their stomach, braced against one of the entrances to the tunnels of the catacombs, clutching their skull. You urged them forward, begged them to hurry— that the diagnostics were grave. You could see the gnarled roots of the arbor already having penetrated some of the ancillary walls.)
(They looked so scared as they were swallowed by Mara. Eyes flashing scarlet, gingko leaves spilling from their mouth as they screamed. Flesh tearing to be healed wrong seconds later. Beautiful silk robes torn to shreds, body mutilated from the inside out.)
(They’d lunged at you, howling, and you’d barely side-stepped them. You ran to a patrol of Cloud Knights, overworked and clearly battleworn themselves and exhausted. Regardless, they took down your apprentice. Cut them at the back of the knees, called a Judge, dragged them off to the Hall of Karma.)
You dream of Jing Yuan often.
Sometimes, these dreams are awful.
Lady Fu had told you to visit him, prior to your initial descent into the catacombs. She said he was unconscious and battered. He would certainly recover; the General is particularly hearty. She urged you to see him in the Alchemy Commission. She said this as if Jing Yuan hadn’t just thrown himself in front of a being that rivaled some Aeons. She said this as if the Luofu wasn’t a few mechanical failures away from ceasing function and you were the only one aboard the Luofu able to stop it with any efficiency.
You dream of Jing Yuan being lanced through with his own guandao. You dream of him falling to the stone of Scalegorge Waterscape, eyes blooming red, and ginkgo leaves erupting from his shoulders. You dream of him mutilated beyond belief by beings so much more powerful than either of you. You dream of having to watch a patrol of Cloud Knights pin him to the ground as Mara consumes him.
Sometimes, the dreams are pleasant.
The worst are those where you think you have woken up in bed with him. Mimi purrs at the foot of his stupid, indulgently large bed. Your cheek is pressed to his chest, warm and alive and okay, and he rumbles some laugh when you seem confused. He asks if you’d like breakfast. A bath. You should go to the markets together, shouldn’t you?
You dream of his body next to yours. Well and whole and intertwined.
You prefer to be awake; it allows you to feel like you have some semblance of control over your own mind. 
Horrors crop up into the forefront of your mind without warning often. Staying focused on your repairs helps you. Grounding yourself in the sting of the lubricant over your skin keeps your thoughts closer to the material, rather than the intangible fears that threaten to swallow you whole. 
Leaving only you to your work. Fixing. 
You wipe sweat from your brow, uncaring of the grease that smears across your skin and clumps in your hair. The panel in front of you is being particularly fuzzy. The parts are old. The impact from the Arbors sudden growth had damaged the delicate nature of the mechanisms. 
So, you tinker away.
Quantum threading, weaving, unraveling, trying again. And again, and again.
Your head pounds.
...
At some point, when checking your jade abacus, the diagnostic percentages have stopped going down. They’re actually going up, steadily and on their own.
You don’t believe it at first, but after... a while of keeping an eye on it, it doesn’t appear to be a fluke. Functionality is hovering around thirty-three percent, unfailingly, and rising a percentage every day or so. The panels you check appear to be healing themselves as well, albeit slowly. Thin, vermillion tendrils snake around in the oil to poke and prod as you have. Albeit, it’s not enough, but it provides a kernel of respite nonetheless.
Coincidentally, you run out of stellar lubricant around this same time as well.
The only option (as you’ve already pilfered the stores you’ve come across) is to ascend back to the surface of the Luofu and fetch more from the Artisanship Commission. 
You feel delirious when you rise fully and stretch your arms above your head. Your hands knock into the metal ceiling as your back cracks in at least four different places. Your knees ache. Your legs have long since cramped up. You feel stiff down to your bones, but you separate from the feeling. You must, there’s more important things to worry about. 
Ascending the catacombs is difficult. You hadn’t... realized quite how deep you’d gone for repairs. It takes quite some time to climb the thin utility ladders and weave the correct path upwards. You’re slowed by gravity and your own lethargy. The exertion takes its toll quickly, but you ignore it. You have a task to complete. 
(Your body's slick with sweat. Your vision threatens to tunnel.)
Perhaps you’ll pick up some proper rations as well. The nutritional power you had pilfered from the tunnel’s stores probably isn’t meant to be consumed in the long term. 
You come to surface through a shrouded doorway in a residential neighborhood. It’s warm, temperate as the Luofu usually is. There’s a pleasant breeze and the smell of grass and water in the air. It’s a sharp contrast to the metallic tang of oil and lubricant that you’re slicked with.
You try to think little of it. Artisanship Commission. 
On your way, you get the occasional odd stare. A child points at you. You, perhaps, are covered in grime and attribute any gawking to that. Maybe? You’re due for a bath. Though with all the errands it appears you need to run, do you really have time for one? 
There’s a shop on the edge of the Artisanship Commission you duck into. The shopkeeper is speaking to another customer at the counter, but goes silent when you give him a friendly wave. You’re a regular here, after all. 
You grab as much of the lubricant as you can carry in your arms and place it on the counter, poking around in your pocket for your... phone. It’s probably out of battery.
“Could you put this on the Divination Commission’s tab?” You ask him. “It’s being used for official business.”
The shopkeeper is still looking at you, wide-eyed. Mouth hanging open. He stiffly nods and rings you up. 
Odd.
You think little of it. He slowly loads your jars into an old crate and hands it to you. 
“Be well.” You say on the way out. The shopkeeper does not reply. 
The interaction leaves you with a vague sense of unease. 
That feeling mounts the more you realize that people are looking at you, as you make your way to Aurum Alley for rations. One woman even tries to stop you, but you wave her off. You need to—
Get rations. Maybe take a shower. Descend again because there’s no way the systems can be sustained and heal fast enough on their own. You must work, you must toil.
And you mustn’t visit Jing Yuan.
Not yet. Not until you can forget how he looked, slack and half-dead in the arms of his men. Perhaps you should forget the face of the returned High Elder as well. You’ve— you’ve put together that he and Jing Yuan have some type of history. You know from the whisperings that the man saved Jing Yuan. 
(You can’t ever save him. You are not a fighter. You’re a well-paid mechanic.)
Rations.
You’re stopped before you ever are three steps into Aurum Alley by a group of Cloud Knights.
“Halt.” One of them says, raising her weapon. 
“... Pardon?” You ask, raising an eyebrow. The crate in your arms is too heavy for this. “Can I help you?”
“Please wait,” the tip of her guandao shines, “you are the Divination Commission’s Master Calibrator, correct?”
“... Yes?” You sigh. “I apologize, but I must get past you. I’m on official business. Supply run.” 
The Knight rotates her blade to the butt of it against your chest, applying light pressure. Holding you there, tucked between several buildings and fairly out of sight. Your stomach drops. 
“I can’t allow that.” 
“... Excuse me?”
You’re about ready to snap at the nervous-looking knight once more, but you’re interrupted. The sound of quick feet over stone stops behind you and frigid air begins to spill down your neck. You turn your head painfully over your shoulder. 
Yanqing, the fierce little thing, is poised behind you, spitting steam and frost. His gold eyes are angry, teeth bared. He looks exhausted. 
“You are being detained,” he says, angry and sharp.
“What?” You snap, turning to face him. He looks ready to raise his blade against you, hand twitching at his waist. That’s not your concern at this moment. “Yanqing— what are you—”
Yanqing’s eyes are shiny and wet.
Oh.
“You’re being detained by order of the Divine Foresight.” He says, voice unwavering despite the tears beading against his lower lashes. 
...
Yanqing seems like he’s seething as he leads you to one of Jing Yuan’s personal gardens. It’s on a terrace, high above most of the Luofu, far-away from any of the Commission's that may bother him when he is attempting to relax.
You know this garden well; it’s your favorite spot to relax in with Jing Yuan.
He leads you directly to Jing Yuan who is standing on an overlook, hand behind his back as he stares out over a roiling sea. The waves crash far below, the sound a mere echo. His shoulders are slack. He hardly looks angry. It’s rare that he ever does.
“General.” Yanqing says— he is angry. “I’ve brought them.”
“Oh?” Jing Yuan turns, a pleasant smile stretching across his face. “You found them?”
“Yes, in Aurum Alley.” Yanqing salutes and steps to the side.
You cross your arms and try not to cry.
Jing Yuan looks fine. He’s clearly in one piece. Whole. Whole. No visible injury, no new limp as he steps closer to you, examining you just as intently as you examine him. 
It’s a horrible relief to see him fine— even if you should scold him. If you had the energy, you would. You would rake him over the damn coals for endangering himself as he did. You will, later. Maybe. But for now—
“Am I done being detained?” You ask, malice in your voice. “I have work to do.”
“No hello?”
“Fine. Hello.”
“Hi,” Jing Yuan says more gently, beckoning you to a lovely looking pile of silk pillows and a thick mat. The perfect spot for a midday catnap. “I’m afraid I do intend to keep you for a bit longer. Sit, please.”
You don’t budge.
“Jing Yuan,” You say his name. Your voice doesn’t wobble, and you’re grateful for it. “I do not have time for this.”
He hums, “You do.”
“You must know the Luofu’s internals are shot.” He must, right? You need to get back. You need to keep fixing. “I do not have time for tea and a chat. Be forward with me, please.”
Jing Yuan, who has already sat down on the silks, looks up at you. He’s perfectly poised, relaxed like a big cat, but with sharp, watchful eyes. He’s choosing his words carefully, albeit quickly. 
“Did you know the Matrix of Prescience resumed function earlier today?” He tells you. “Early this morning, it awoke. Diviner Fu says the function is still minimal, but improving by the hour.”
There’s a wave of relief hearing that— at least the Divination Commission can resume somewhat normal activity. Fu Xuan is probably overjoyed. Maybe. You should check— you need to check. There may be calibrations to reconfigure on the surface. Aeons, there probably is and you’re foolish for not addressing those yet. You should. 
Jing Yuan says your name, gentle but unyielding, “Stay with me.”
“I’m— I’m glad the Matrix is working. But, there’s still much that needs to be addressed Jing Yuan. The Luofu’s fail safes— the vitality transmitters— the gamma diffusers—”
You feel overwhelmed and nauseous. You want to lay down and cry. You want to run away to the nearest hidden entrance to the tunnels and work. So badly do you want to flee, hide, and toil and fix this stupid ship.
(Because, you can’t look Jing Yuan in the eye for too long. He’s safe, but the memory of him half-dead is still living in your mind. It’s murky, but there. You need it to die. You need it to stop. You need—)
Jing Yuan takes your hands in his own. It shocks you out of your spiral as his thumbs graze your knuckles. It hurts. You wince without thinking to muffle it. Chemical abrasions and hives litter the skin of your hands. It tracks up your arms to your elbows, you see now. 
You flinch and try to pull away, but Jing Yuan keeps you there. Suspended.
“I had a meeting with the other Arbiter-Generals, just the other day.” Jing Yuan sounds wistful. “I was surprised to find out that every other ship in the Xianzhou Alliance’s fleet has at least four Master Calibrators. They were shocked to find the Luofu only having one.”
“That sounds embarrassing.”
“It was, perhaps,” Jing Yuan laughs in a good-natured way. “The other Generals were quite kind, and have sent a handful of Master Calibrators to the Luofu to assist with repairs. They’ll be here in the next day or so.”
“... Really?”
“Yes.” Jing Yuan sighs. “I’ll owe a favor or two, but it’s more than worth it.”
You don’t know what to think.
“I have to—”
“You’re actually being placed on a somewhat indefinite leave.” Jing Yuan then yanks you down into the pillows, to the thick mat, and into his arms. “I’m afraid I’ve missed you terribly. You’ve been incredibly difficult to track down.”
“I was just in the tunnels.” You try to push away from him. “Fu Xuan gave me this little tracker.” 
You tap the pendant on your chest.
“You went deep enough into the Luofu that this pendant only pinged your location every few days.” Jing Yuan raises you up, so you’re perched in his lap. You steady yourself on his chest. His living, breathing chest. “At one point, it didn’t register your vitals for a week.”
Jing Yuan says this quietly. It’s admission, given the tone of his voice. He sounds a bit stricken, almost pained. His brow is scrunched as he rubs up and down your shoulders.
“... A week?” 
“Indeed. You scared me quite badly, you know.”
Something in you aches. Guilt rises up your throat, but you don’t give yourself much time to examine it. Not yet. 
“You’re one to talk.” You murmur, hitting a fist against his chest angrily. “You threw yourself in front of a Lord Ravager?”
“A necessary blow that ensured victory.” Jing Yuan says simply. As if he is speaking about a feint during a sparring match, or a risky move in a star chess game. “A worthwhile opportunity, really—”
“You could have died.” You snap at him, finally looking at him down your nose, baring your teeth. You are tired and angry. It feels like you could swallow the sun and you would be fine with exploding. 
“I could have.” He hums. There’s more that he wants to say, you can tell. You can imagine what he could wax on about—
(“It would have been worth it if it guaranteed the Luofu’s safety.”
(“Am I not going to die already? I would think it be better to give my life for the safety of the people, rather than be decimated by Mara.”)
(“There are worse ways to die.”)
“You’re so foolish.” You want to cry. Maybe you are. Your head is pounding and your eyes hurt. “You can’t do that.”
“Ideally, I wouldn’t—”
“No, stop, just—” You grab his cheeks in your hands and bring your nose to press against his. You meet his eyes, gold and molten. “You cannot sacrifice yourself in such a way. I beg you to be selfish. If for no other reason than to give me a proper goodbye.”
(Jing Yuan had been distant in the days leading up to the Arbor’s reawakening. He’d been dodging your calls, ignoring pre-scheduled outings, and skimping on sleeping in your bed. When you’d seen the videos of his limp body and heard from Lady Fu that he was still unconscious, there was, perhaps, a moment where you believed that that was it. You wouldn’t get a goodbye. You’d only see a ragdolled corpse to mourn.)
What you’re asking of Jing Yuan is a siren song of Mara. You know this. To yearn is to suffer. To be attached is to suffer. To cling is to suffer. And suffering is to mara. You both know this. You dance with the stars and their weavings often enough to be suspended somewhat above other immortals— such things seem small in avenues of Aeons and destiny. 
Jing Yuan, however, is a master of separation. Meditation. He is quiet about the skills he’s cultivated. You notice them though— the way he measures his breathing, the conscious effort he makes to keep himself loose and slack. The way his memory is diced up, not from incensed Mara sprouts, but from missing pieces. Tragedies that have either been removed or blotted out from his own practice.
To save him from being swallowed by Mara.
And yet, you beg him to remember you. 
You almost retract, recoil, and run. This is too real. You have been in the General’s bed for who knows how long. It doesn’t matter that you have been his partner for the last several decades. You’ve never asked him to keep you in his thoughts— keep you like this. It has always felt too unfair of a thing to ask. 
“You,” You spit through tears, “Cannot leave me so cruelly. Not like that. Let me be precious to you, Jing Yuan, if only for a short time.”
There is no such thing as being endless without consequence, but perhaps the General can spare you his affections, truly, for a brief moment. Maybe it’s a pipedream. Maybe you’re delirious from lack of sleep and hunger and the high of feeling Jing Yuan solid and whole beneath you is simply too much.
Jing Yuan coaxes you to keep your head up when you try to duck into his neck. He buries a hand in your hand that quickly slides down to your nape. He holds a wide, warm palm there to steady you.
“Dear,” Jing Yuan strokes down your cheeks, rubbing away tears you can’t stop from falling. His smile is melancholy, his eyes crinkled at the corners with a broken smile. “I’m quite remissed. Have I not made it clear that I already think of you in such a way?”
You swallow.
“Probably not.”
“I apologize.”
“Don’t apologize— just— say it.” Not on his deathbed, or Mara-struck in chains and gnarled with Ginkgo leaves. 
Jing Yuan pauses, rubbing away tears from under your eyes and squeezing his hand that lingers on the back of your neck. He opens his mouth, flounders, then closes it. Then speaks.
“Beloved,” He begins and you’re already breaking. “I am sorry that I haven’t made it clear to you that you are dear to me. There are certain things that I cannot promise you as they are outside of my control as well as yours. But what I can assure you is that you are so incredibly dear to me. If I must continue to live as I do now, I would like to do so by your side. I apologize for not being forthright.”
“... So, no throwing yourself in front of Lord Ravagers?”
“... Sacrifices must be made.” Jing Yuan says, though his voice is, perhaps, more mournful. 
“You are not a sacrifice.” You swallow, the words burning you as well. “You are much more than just foder. You are— you’re dear to people. Dear to me. You are not to throw yourself in the line of fire as part of a convenient plan.” 
“I will not make you a promise that I cannot keep.” He is too duty-bound; it’s a practiced thing. You’ve heard he was once laze-about oaf who could barely handle a sword. You try to appeal to any remnants of that man.
“Then at least tell me.” You urge, beg. “Maybe there are other options you haven’t thought of. You get stuck in your head, you know.”
“Do I?” His smile turns mischievous and teasing.
“You—!” You headbutt him lightly and he rolls you into the silken blankets. 
The moment your back touches the softness below you, skull cushioned in the palm of Jing Yuan’s hand, you can feel exhaustion catching up with you.
“You must heed your own rules, love,” Jing Yuan tells you, covering your body with his. Silver hair falls in a veil around you. It’s like starlight. The memories of oil and machine parts feel far away. “No more running yourself ragged. Or hiding in the utility tunnels for a month.”
“... A month?” Your words slur. There’s no way you were down there for a month.
“Actually, a month and a week.” Jing Yuan says. His hand smooths over your front with a front. “You’ve lost weight. And as effortlessly radiant as you are, you do look quite poorly. I’m sure it’s nothing an indefinite, relaxing, extended, paid-leave can’t fix, hm?”
“Thas’ so long,” You say, your eyes rolling back into your head. You’re slipping.
“I know.” Jing Yuan kisses your forehead and remains there. “I missed you terribly.”
You want to say more. How desperately do you want to tell him, “I missed you too. I couldn’t stop thinking of you dying. I dreamed of your bed and warmth and wanted nothing more.” But your body is simply too tired. The... month of exhaustion catches up with you within the silks and you have to fight to keep your eyes open.
Jing Yuan hushes you when you whine, grabbing at him to drag him closer.
“Rest now.” He tells you. “You need it. I’ll be here when you wake up.”
Jing Yuan holds you in the soft blankets, flush against downy pillows and the plush of his chest. One of his hands finds home around your waist, the other over the crown of your head. 
You are tugged down— not in the bowels of Xianzhou’s Luofu, but into the arms of a lover and the hold of a deep and inexorable sleep.
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The next time you’re awake, you’re swathed in buttery linens and pleasantly warm. Your world is fuzzy and unfocused, and at first you think you are dreaming.
It’s simply too pleasant.
Your cheek is pressed against Jing Yuan’s bare chest. You can tell from the softness of your cheek squished against the softness of his pectoral, along with the bit of silver fuzz that tickles your nose. He smells like you remember— notes of cedar oils and herbs, mixing with the scent of his own stale sweat from whatever training he completes with Yanqing. 
It’s comforting and familiar. This is why it must be a dream.
So you cling to Jing Yuan. The arm thrown over his chest constricts. The leg you have loosely thrown over his own tangles and hooks him closer. You shimmy higher to press your nose to the underside of his jaw and inhale. 
Jing Yuan chuckles, a rumbling thing that’s hoarse with sleep, “Good morning to you too.”
You do not open your eyes. Rather, you squeeze them shut, and cling to the dream.
His hand glides up your back, finding home on your waist once more before giving you a squeeze, “You can sleep more, you have quite the deficit to make up for.”
You grumble. You’re practically on top of him, like it would prolong the pleasant illusion your mind is creating. 
Your own palm rests over his chest, and you pause. There’s a texture that’s new. Scar tissue beneath your finger tips that runs little rivers over his flesh. Jing Yuan’s breath hitches as you trace them. You pull away from the safety of his throat to peer down at his chest. New scars litter his chest, all connected webs of damage. The skin is puckered and freshly healed.
This is not a dream.
“Oh,” you say, softly. 
“I apologize. Your favorite canvas has been a bit marked up.” Jing Yuan sighs. 
“Jing Yuan.” You squeak and bat at his chest. “Don’t speak of your body and condition in such a way.”
“Why not? I so have missed your marks on me, you know. It’s been a lonely recovery period—”
“Jing. Yuan.” You tug at his hair playfully. “It is too early for you to be teasing me.”
“I don’t think it’s ever ‘too early’ for such things.” Jing Yuan laughs. “Besides, I think you quite like it.”
“Cruel man.”
“You wound me.” There’s no bite to either of your voices. Just something warm and underused. 
You press a kiss to his cheek and nudge your nose into the pudge of it, “Truly?”
“No.” Jing Yuan pulls you up by your waist, holding you flush to him as he turns to face you. You are chest to chest, nose to nose. “There’s no need to worry about the nips of a kitten, wouldn’t you agree?”
“You awful, awful man—” You say with a burgeoning smile that you can’t help but wear. 
Jing Yuan cups a large, warm palm against your jaw and presses his lips to yours. 
It’s indulgent, just like the ridiculously-sized bed you’re entangled in and the silken sleep pants you can feel him wearing. Your smile into it— you missed this. 
Why did you miss it—?
Oh. 
You pull away, eyes widening, “Jing Yuan, the ship. I have— repairs. I have to—”
He silences you with a quick kiss, racking his nails down your back and you gasp.
“The repairs are being taken care of by a few honored guests from the Xuling and Yuque. Diviner Fu is their point of contact and guide for the duration of their stay. They will be completing the remaining restoration while you enjoy your leave.”
“I mean—” You flounder, panic is bursting in your chest. “They can contact me— I know what needs to be fixed, I can at least make a list—?”
Jing Yuan hums, grip getting tighter around your hips. It’s a shadow of something you’ve seen in him before— it’s a bit possessive. 
“Once again, dear, you are on indefinite leave by order of the Seat of Divine Foresight by the Arbiter General himself.” He reminds you with a glint in his eye. “You needn’t make any lists or instructions for our guests. Diviner Fu is more than capable of directing them as necessary. Actually, I believe she’ll quite like it.”
“You’re pulling rank on me?” 
“As I have every right to do.” Jing Yuan doesn’t relent. More sweetly, he continues. “As your lover, I would also be much happier to see you recovering in bed than anywhere else.”
“… Are the gardens off limits?”
“No, though I’d recommend giving yourself a few days of minimal activity.” Jing Yuan frowns then. “I don’t believe you realize it, but you are quite weak at the moment.”
“... Really?”
“Lady Bailu’s cloudhymns are quite advanced these days.” He rubs a thumb below your eyes, over what must be a dark circle. “But, her skills mostly lie in healing flesh wounds and disease. You are malnourished, dehydrated, and... overall rundown.”
“... The Dragon Lady is going to give me an earful, isn’t she?”
“In time.” Jing Yuan laughs. He brings one of your hands up to his face to press his lips to your knuckles. No longer covered in burns and irritated hives, but still bearing light scarring. 
Neither you nor Jing Yuan escaped unscathed.
“Do I need to prepare?”
“Perhaps not as much as you think.” Jing Yuan hums, pulling the sheets over your heads. “She examined you while you were asleep a few times. She has already scolded you plenty, even if you don’t remember it.”
“Did I wake up at all?”
“Barely. It was almost concerning.” Jing Yuan tugs you closer and tucks your head under his chin. “I did manage to have you sip some water and give you a wipe down though. Admittedly, you do need a proper bath.”
You nearly moan. 
The idea of a bath is downright erotic. Though you don’t feel as greasy and as sticky as you could, given Jing Yuan had kindly gotten the worst of it off of you, the idea of being truly clean sounded pornographic.
Especially, given you were at Jing Yuan’s residence, and in addition to his indulgently large and comfortable bed, he also had an indulgently large and opulent self-heating bath. The idea of having a long soak and scrub has you burying your face into Jing Yuan chest and squeezing around his middle.
“I want it.” 
“A bath?” 
“Yes. And you. And a meal. Lots of things, actually.” Enough to make your head spin. It feels like your slowly waking mind is all out of sorts. 
“Let’s start with a meal and a bath, then.” Jing Yuan offers. “Perhaps after a nap?”
You don’t need to be persuaded. 
It’s a kinder sleep you sink into. Less bottomless and far warmer. Jing Yuan kisses you breathless and a bit stupid as you drift off, chuckling against your lips as you grumble and grouse at him, before being tugged down into sleep once more.
...
“How are you feeling?”
You ask Jing Yuan this as you give yourself a pre-bath rinse behind an ornate screen. The wet cloth clutched in your hands drips fat droplets of water onto the polished, glass tile beneath your feet. Soap clings to your body, falling into little rivulets, taking the worst of your grime down the nearby drain. Watching the iridescent bubbles distracts you from the weight of your own words.
You’ve been wanting to ask Jing Yuan this for—
(Weeks, probably, actually, in the time of the Xianzhou Alliance’s calendar. At least you since you saw him nearly lifeless in the grainy cell phone footage.)
Since you have woken and were sleepily led to Jing Yuan’s opulent, resplendent private baths, at least.
From the other side of the screen, Jing Yuan answers, “I feel fine, dear.”
“Physically?”
“I’ve had more than enough time to recover.” 
“... Mentally? All over, Jing Yuan.”
You hate asking this, but you know it’s necessary. You’re sure Jing Yuan is being monitored for Mara-onset symptoms; there’s no way he couldn’t be. You don’t see any obvious ones. But, Mara is the most extreme of afflictions. 
He laughs again, and you can feel him shaking his head like it can shake off your concern, “I assure you, I’m more than fine. Having to be responsible for so much paperwork again is painful, but doable.”
He’s dodging your question, albeit with less finesse than he normally would. 
“Would you blame me if I doubted that answer?”
“No, not at all.”
You sigh and rinse the last of the suds from your body. It’s tedious, this roundabout game with Jing Yuan, but he is rarely forthcoming with personal information. Whether that’s memories of his life before you entered it, political stratagem, or his own mental state— it’sall veiled. You’ve gotten more adept at playing his games, but you truthfully don’t know if you have the energy to try.
You rub your hand over your face. One thing at a time.
You pluck the robe Jing Yuan had supplied from the top of the screen and wrap yourself in the (thin, wispy, objectively indecent) garment. It’s not doing much to cover you at all, as the light, silken fabric clings to the wet curves of your body. You appreciate the attempt at modesty in the same way you appreciate Jing Yuan idling on the other side of the screen. 
You feel like a doe on uneven ground still. Jing Yuan probably expects this.
He guides you to the bath, steering into more light-hearted chatter. He tells you what Yanqing has been up to since he has resumed his office, once again asking for swords and seemingly training with a new vigor and intensity. He has been begging the General to spar with him all hours of the day. Or, call back his newfound friends from the Astral Express for a round or two. Qingzu will be taking a much-needed vacation in the coming weeks. Jing Yuan’s carmelias and bluebell astrums have begun to bloom. 
You nod along, only half-there. 
Jing Yuan eases your robe off your shoulder as he speaks. His voice is low and a bit rough from his own nap. The broad planes of his palms and fingers smooth over your shoulders and peel the fabric down. His thumb worries the marred skin of your forearms.
“We’ll make sure your next meals are particularly hearty. These should heal up quickly, wouldn’t you say?” He coaxes. 
You nod, staring at the burns. They’ll be nothing but worn-looking scars in a matter of weeks. 
Your robe is slung over a cart, filled with a collection of luxurious bath oils and soaps. Jing Yuan only has a few indulgences— his sprawling, soft bed, his many gardens, and his opulent, resplendent private bath laid with emerald green glass tiles and a sunken tub that could’ve been counted as a pool given its size. You’re grateful for it— though you’ve only used it a handful of times. The General has a habit of taking quick showers, unless he has the better part of the day to lounge in the perfectly-warmed water.
You try not to linger on your own nakedness, though you can feel Jing Yuan surveying you. There must be bruises on your waist from the heavy belt you were wearing. Visible weight loss too. You busy yourself by untying the sash of Jing Yuan’s robe and pulling it from his shoulders. It had already been somewhat open, revealing the marred expanse of his chest. Thin, spidery scars that clearly stretched over most of his body.
Typically, Xianzhou Native bodies heal with little scarring. But, these wounds were carved by a Lord Ravager. You’re unsure if they will follow the same logic. 
You will love Jing Yuan, obviously, regardless of any lasting marks. But the thought still makes you sad— something in you aches. You trace the scars leading down from his chest to his softened tummy to the v of his hips. His cock is soft between his legs. It’s too dark in the bath to tell if the scars extend there as well. 
“You look troubled.” He says, pausing his stories.
“I worry for you, so much.” You tell him. 
Meeting his eyes is difficult. The honey-stone color of them looks darker in the dimly-lit chamber, but you can easily see the crease between his brow. There’s clear concern, perhaps a bit overwritten by his need to conceal his hand.
Perhaps he is too tired himself to be as careful as he usually is.
(Good. If there’s anyone who he can let his guard down around, Aeons, let it be you.)
Jing Yuan helps you into the tub. First, he enters, sliding into the steaming water with a shudder. He extends his hand to you as you take unsure steps onto the slick tiling. The water is the perfect temperature— not too hot, but pleasantly warm in a way that won’t lead to overheating. You hide your body under the water and sink up to your chin and sigh.
It feels heavenly.
Jing Yuan chuckles as you do and smoothes a hand over the top of your head. He’s already reaching for a few bottles on the nearby cart, pouring a few under the steady gurgle of water that flows from a wide tap. It’s entrancing to watch— equally as entrancing is the breadth of Jing Yuan’s shoulder, marred by the scarring. He’s beautiful in a way that makes your stomach knot.
You end up settled with your back pressed to his front, laid in his lap, almost dozing as he massages shampoo into your hair.
“I’m filthy, aren’t I?” You ask.
Jing Yuan hums, “I’ve never seen you this unkempt, no.”
“I’m sorry.”
“There’s nothing to be sorry for.” He kisses the back of your soapy skull. “You needn’t apologize for anything. I’m not upset with you.”
“... Okay.” You concede. He goes back to dutifully washing your hair, then follows it with conditioner and securing your hair up and out of the water as necessary. His idle talk has stopped, the space filled by the running water and your own breath.
“May I wash yours?” You ask. 
“You still have your body, love.”
“I know,” You reply sheepishly. “At least let me get your conditioner in?”
Jing Yuan laughs, and coaxes you to turn with his big hands wrapped around your waist under the waist. You spin his lap, straddling him. It’s a precarious position, but you... missed it. Nudging yourself closer, you lean into him, chest to chest, and deflate.
He laughs, something rich and warm that radiates from his body into your own, “It really is hard work, bathing, isn’t it?”
“No,” You muffle your words into his collarbones. “Just give me a minute.”
“Of course,” His arms wrap firmly around your waist, locking you together. He’s hot— he runs like a furnace even when not in a toasty bath. There’s a bit of sweat dripping down his neck and you’re tempted to lick it away.
Maybe later, for now you bask.
You bask in the fact that Jing Yuan is here, warm and alive. You want to commit him to memory— better than you have. If it forsakes you to Mara in a few decades, you do not care. You had forgotten the softness of his chest, the curve of his waist and the point of his nose. The details of Jing Yuan had become so fuzzy in such a short time. You’re sure Lady Bailu would assert it had something to do with your ‘chronic sleep deprivation’, but you’re not sure if you agree with that potential diagnosis.
Spending too much time attuned to immaterial quantum fields erodes your psyche, probably. 
“So deep in thought.” Jing Yuan runs a head down your back. “Take a break to rinse, hm?”
“I haven’t gotten yours in yet, though?”
“We can take our time. Besides, I bathed this morning. This is all for pleasure.”
“... Pleasure, huh?”
Jing Yuan flashes you a grin burgeoning on mischievous, “Yes, pleasure, in whatever form that may come. Is that what’s plaguing you, dear?”
“No, not at all.” You sigh and lean back from him, cupping his cheeks. “I missed you.”
“I missed you too,” Jing Yuan says. His cards are showing— his voice is straining, pitched in a way that indicates he’s sad in his chest. The thing between your ribs aches.
“I was worried.”
“So you have said.” Jing Yuan cajoles you down, slipping your head half in the water to rinse away your conditioner. He suspends you with a single arm. His musculature is obscene. 
“How could I not be?” You clench your jaw. “I saw videos of you being taken to the Alchemy Commission— you— you looked—”
Half-dead. 
Corpse-like. 
Steps from death’s door.
On your way to the grave.
Dead.
Jing Yuan calls your name, rubbing soothing little circles over the small of your waist, “I’m well now, dear.”
“But you almost weren’t.” Your voice breaks. You don’t mean for it to. You tuck yourself into his neck and hide.
You don’t want to cry, but you can feel something welling up from within your guts. It’s the thing you pushed down relentlessly in the bowels of the Luofu. As you tinkered and toiled in the depths of the ship, you never let this ache spill over, lest you drown. Whether that’s in Mara or a less permanent type of suffering, you do not know.
“But I am.” Jing Yuan assures you. “I am here now, aren’t I? Whole and in one piece.”
You know this. You know this. But— You drag your fingernails over his shoulder blades. Jing Yuan shudders as you do.
“It’s hard.”
“I know.” 
The hands around you squeeze hard enough to bruise.
“I thought you were going to keel over in the gardens when Yanqing first brought you to me.” Jing Yuan confesses. “I’d been pestering Lady Fu on the hour for any updates about your whereabouts and communications.”
“... I wasn’t communicating with anyone, though.”
“I know.” Jing Yuan has a thread of... contempt to it. “I wish you would have.”
“What could I have said?”
“I’m not sure,” Jing Yuan tangles a hand in your washed hair and tilts your face to meet his. “But, I’m sure you would’ve found the right words.”
He kisses you. Or you kiss him. Who’s to say.
You don’t have the right words— you may never. Certainly not in your mind or on your tongue now. The thing that rises in your throat is carnal and old and writhing— want. Verging on need. You struggle to keep the kiss chaste, closed lips pressed together after so long apart
Perhaps Jing Yuan has a similar depth that’s clawing at his insides. 
He tilts his head, dragging you closer. Close as can be. He kisses you in a silently desperate way. You accept his advances and tangle your hands in his hair. Tug him closer and closer and closer.
(Don’t go. Please don’t go. Not yet.)
(Not until we’re both split apart by gingko roots and dappled in noontime sunlight.)
You gasp his name as you break apart for breath, smoothing your thumbs down his cheekbones and jaw. His pupils are blown and desperate.
“Can I touch you?” He asks, always so polite.
“Please—” 
Jing Yuan kisses you again, deeper and pulling you into the depths of the bath. His hands trail down to your thighs, squeezing along the way. Calloused and wide, familiar. The feel of them is coming home, you hadn’t realized how much you missed this.
You keen against his lips and Jing Yuan laughs— the gall of that man.
His flips you easily, caging you against the edge of the pool. This way, he has height over you. He looms, casting a flickering shadow in the amber light of the beeswax candles scattered about. You swallow as you watch droplets of water slide down his throat, chest, tummy. His forearms make you feel dizzy.
“May I have you?” He asks, once again. “Not yet— but I don’t want to progress if you’re not feeling fit for it.”
“N-No,” You feel desperate, you sound desperate. Sensitive and clawing, the beast that you buried in the depths of the Luofu crawls out of your throat and wraps itself around you. Tears spring to your eyes. “Please? Just— be slow—”
Jing Yuan must see your eyes water. He softens.
He thumbs over the fragile skin beneath your eyes, as if wiping the stray tear could wipe away the dark circles punched there as well. 
“Of course.” He assures you and presses his lips to your forehead.
...
Jing Yuan takes ‘slow’ both seriously and literally. You are both grateful and horribly frustrated by this. You almost regret not telling Jing Yuan to simply bend you over the lip of the bath and fuck you senseless, though Jing Yuan probably would not have granted you that even if you had asked. He loves to savor when he can. Bedding you is no exception— even under more typical circumstances.
And these aren’t typical circumstances.
Perhaps you should’ve known Jing Yuan intended to break you apart and stitch you back together.
He doesn’t escalate things much further in the bath, despite petting down your sides and seeming to always have his lips on you. You wash his hair as you’d ask to, scratching at his scalp and relishing the almost-purr he lets out as he wraps himself around you. When you start to just barely grind in his lap (squirm, more than anything), he is quick to still you with an iron-like hold on your hips, pinning you down and over his thighs. 
“Not yet,” He tells you, nipping at your jaw. “Be patient.”
You huff. 
Jing Yuan takes charge of finishing washing you, using gentle touch and a soft cloth from your ankles to the crown of your head. His touch lingers, starting some low burning flame low in your gut that you have a feeling won’t be quenched for quite some time. 
It’s tortuous. It’s wonderful.
After you towel each other off, he leads you back to his rooms, only in the damp robes and undergarments he’d dutifully remembered to bring along. The silk clings to Jing Yuan’s bulk as he walks beside you. His hand is on your lower back. Little bugs chirp in the courtyard gardens you pass. There’s the gurgle of a fountain. The soft breeze that Luofu always keeps, even on the most temperate days of summer. It’s all so different from the acrid smell of lubricant and the ambient machine hum you had become so used to.
“I’m only on leave, not house arrest, correct?” You ask as you enter his wing, to his bedroom. 
He locks the door behind you as you step inside. 
“No, no house arrest.” Jing Yuan hums as he strips off his robe. You want to bite him. “You’re free to roam within reason.”
“Does ‘within reason’ include the nursery that outlander keeps in the Exalting Sanctum?” 
“Of course. Though I may assign you a chaperone.”
“Really? Would you send Yanqing with me for a quick run to grab a new shrub or two.”
Jing Yuan laughs, something rich and full that rolls over you like a fleeced quilt, “I figured that I would be your chaperone, dear. If you’d allow.”
“... You’re making this sound like a date, General.”
“Am I?” Jing Yuan smiles so honeyed, it makes something in your chest begin to crack. You lay your hands on his bare chest and hold your ear to his chest. He laughs when you do. “I’d like it if it was. If you’d have me.”
“Of course I would.”
You say it so simply.
You want to crawl into his body and live there, and break any spindly seedlings of Mara away with your own two hands.
Jing Yuan kisses you, walking you back into the door. His lips are soft, a bit chapped in a way that’s familiar and comforting. You run a hand up and down his chest, stopping to squish one of his ample pecs. You muffle a laugh into Jing Yuan’s lips as he stutters out a groan. Sweet, sweet man. 
“I missed you,” You tell him once more, hoping your words seep past the seam of his lips, down his throat and sink into his guts. 
Jing Yuan responds by pressing you into the door, using the warm line of his body to flatten you to the wood. His kiss verges on desperate, tongue insistent at the seam of your lips, hands tugging you close, close, closer. You yield to him, whining as his tongue licks into your mouth, the taste of him so familiar it makes you ache.
You tug at his hair and urge him closer, if that is possible.
His touch is searing as he breaks away, panting, eyes hot. Scalding. His hair is down, drying to a fluffy, untamed mane around his cheeks and shoulders. It’s charming. You thumb over his cheeks with a smile. He leans into your touch while giving you a soft smile.
“The reign you have over me.” He sighs. You don’t get a chance to question him— his thigh slots between your own and your breath catches with the contact.
You haven’t been touched in so long.
You cling to his shoulders and just barely grind on his thigh— as much as his hold on your waist will allow. Jing Yuan’s kisses trail from your lips to over your cheeks and down your throat. He stops at the juncture of your neck and shoulders, nosing into the spot.
“Such a lovely scent,” He hums.
“I-I bet I smelled horrible before, h-huh?” You laugh as he begins to worry a patch of skin. Tender and fragile, perfect for bruising.
“Hm, I wouldn’t say that.” His teeth graze your throat and your head falls back into the door with thud. Jing Yuan shields your skull with his hands a beat later. “You’d be surprised how many times we’ve shared a bed and you’ve reeked of your favorite brand of astral lubricant.”
“Jing Yuan!” You shriek with a laugh and bat at his shoulders. “You’re so cruel.”
“What, do you not like when I tease you?”
“Scoundrel.”
“I think you do like it.”
You missed bantering with him.
“I love you.” You tell him. He knows— you know this. Declarations of love are rare for the long-lived. At least so directly— to care so deeply is to damn yourself to a faster descent into Mara. Though, to live and deprive yourself of companionship and love is to be dead while living. There’s a tender balance between connection and detachment. Both you and Jing Yuan are intimately familiar with it and indulge together.
Jing Yuan bites down on your neck.
It hurts, enough that you jolt and squirm against his body. Jing Yuan holds you into place, sucking on the skin he’d sunk his teeth into. It’s higher on his neck than he’d usually mark you. 
(He’s leaving it to be seen. You are Jing Yuan’s, loved and held.)
(What a wretched man.)
By the time he pulls away, you’re panting. Tears have welled up on your lash line. It hurts and it hurts even more when Jing Yuan runs a high thumb over the quickly rising skin. You gasp and Jing Yuan catches your chin in the wide palm of his hand.
You meet his gaze, intense and lighting-vibrant. You’re panting with an open mouth. 
“How lovely.” And he presses a kiss to a corner of your mouth. 
Jing Yuan guides you to his ridiculously large bed (that could surely fit up to five bodies and a fully grown, white lion.) The sheets have been changed, though you have a feeling they’ll be dirtied again by the morning. 
It’s gentle, the way he hastens you higher up the mattress before giving you a light shove into a mound of pillows. You hook your legs around his waist, drawing him as close as he’ll allow. 
He massages the meat of your thighs. His gaze goes long, and a bit unfocused, though it's trained on you. 
(You wonder what he’s thinking. Jing Yuan is so careful, always so ginger and measured in his steps. Still, there’s a fire in him that you often overlook. It’s the part of him that keeps a lion as a housemate, raised a young boy into a champion, and... you suppose urged him to become the Luofu’s sacrificial lamb in the face of the Destruction.)
You gulp, throat bobbing. Perhaps, you know your General to be a docile, indolent man who prefers naps and board games too much else. Perhaps you have overlooked, or rather forgotten, that you once saw the Divine Foresight as a warlord, given what you’d read about him in the data banks during your studies on the Yuque. 
Jing Yuan’s hand drifts down your front. You’re still wearing your robe. Gentle touch peels it away, leaving you in just a pair of thin panties. They’re a soft, breathable fabric— the kind that will surely show your interest in the General. (You have a feeling Jing Yuan picked them out for that reason expressly.) 
Jing Yuan presses the pad of his thumb over your clit through the fabric. 
You aren’t expecting it, and arch your back with a squeak. His hand lays hot at the innermost part of your thigh, at the fragile skin where it meets your more sensitive parts. 
“I-I thought you said you’d go slow.” You squirm. 
“Of course.” Jing Yuan remains unmoving, applying just enough pressure to be maddening. “I intend to.” 
With how sensitive you are, you need him to be slow. Your body feels tender out of the bath— cooked and raw all at once. Your muscles still ache from your time in the tunnels and you feel... atrophied, if anything. 
Jing Yuan must know this, and you trust him to keep his word. 
He makes his way home between your thighs, laying over your front to kiss you once more. This is slow, every lick and nip thoughtful, every barely-there roll of his hips is intentional. You’re not sure where he finds the restraint. 
You pet through his hair, softening incrementally with each soft touch he gives you.
He pulls away, lips kiss-bruised and cheeks flushed. It’s cute to see the General so disheveled. He’d never look this out of it and starry-eyed outside of this shared bedroom. It makes you giddy. You smother his cheeks with kisses and let him muffle laughter into your skin. 
It’s all soul-splitting.
It’s good. The proximity is warm and inviting. You missed the richness of his bed, the scent of incense and the candles you stock the room with. You missed the roll of his muscles underneath your fingertips and the mirthful glint that flashes in his eyes whenever he thinks he has you on the ropes.
You were so scared of losing this.
It hits you in the chest, caving you in, breaking rib and bone. You were so scared— terrified that this dance you’ve become so adept at sharing with Jing Yuan would end before you were ready for it too. You know that you’ll both fall to Mara, it’s inevitable— but you don’t want it to happen yet. You’re not ready for the final flourish. You weren’t ready for Jing Yuan’s cradled, near lifeless body to be the dying gasp of the partnership you had.
You know it's foolish to think this way. Things— all things, are bigger than mortal minds. Paths cut by the stars, brushstrokes by Gods and Aeons that dictate the lives and destiny of all. You are one mind, one body, one tender spirit. You cannot fight against such forces. You will be crushed.
But, for now, you savor. Take each moment and be grateful even as it slips, honey-warm and molten, between your fingers to be replaced by another in the next instant, equally as lovely. Piled on each other. It is enough. 
You crush Jing Yuan to you, hard and fast enough that the wind is knocked out of him, “Please be more careful with yourself.”
I can’t lose you just yet.
“I will try.” His voice is a comforting curl over you. He strokes over your temples and forehead.
“N-No, you must.” 
You don’t know the words yet for what you want to tell him. The feelings are too large, too unmanageable. Maybe attuning to the Luofu’s quantum fields has rotted your brain. You’ve lost your words. 
With some cajoling, you flip Jing Yuan onto his back. 
Sitting up over his hips, you set upon his neck. First with soft kisses, just as he gave you, then with nips and stronger bites. Then a chomp below his jaw. His hips crest upwards, his hands spasming around your waist as he holds you steady. The sounds that leak from him make you want to crawl down his throat. 
You suck and bite at the mark until you’re satisfied, pulling away to see his pale skin bruising darker by the moment. You admire the popped blood vessels with what must be a dreamy expression on your face.
“Leaving your mark on me?” Jing Yuan asks, breathless and light. 
“It’s only fair.” You kiss his smile, sharing it, “Just as you did to me.”
Running your hands down his chest, you frown at the scars. 
“What if I joined the Cloud Knights?” You ask him. 
Jing Yuan looks a bit... surprised, “Why would you do that? Though, perhaps, giving up your position as Master Calibrator would be reasonable, given recent events.”
“No, no, it’s not that.” You watch the rise and fall of Jing Yuan’s chest with an ache in your own. “If I was stronger, I could protect you, couldn’t I?”
Tears well up in your eyes.
Jing Yuan opens his mouth to speak, you hear his inhale, but you cut him off, “I-If I was a fighter, or just a Diviner, couldn’t I help more? Could I— could I have stopped this? Or stop something horrible from happening in the future? I don’t want to see you hurt like this.”
It should be a bit funny, maybe, that you’re sitting on the waist of the half-hard Divine Foresight, in tears, asking him if you could protect him. A man treated as nearly infallible, a legend amongst people who so rarely have them. He has an eternal spirit gifted by an Aeon tied to his very being. 
And yet you, something of a mechanic and professional tinkerer, beg to protect him.
“Oh, [Name].” He says, mournful. 
You swallow down a sob and tears drip from your eyes to splatter on his chest. Your vision blurs and you rake your nails down his chest. More raised marks— yours struck on him this time. Jing Yuan winds a hand in your hair, strokes down your neck, tries to calm you but it's hard. You can’t catch yourself. 
“I’m s-sorry—” You tell him between gulps of air. You’re supposed to be being bed right now, fucked stupid and more brainless than you already are, but you’re crying and the panic welling up in your chest feels bottomless and vast. 
“No apologies,” Jing Yuan hushes you, rubbing away tears. “You’re alright. I understand.”
“You do?” You snort. It’s blotted out by a proper sob that you hide in Jing Yuan’s chest. 
“How could I not?” He rubs over your dark circles under your eyes, then the bruising around your hips. The softness around your waist that’s not as plump as it was a month ago. “Do you think I didn’t contend with traversing the tunnels myself and pulling you out by your scruff?”
“... You did?” 
He pauses. 
“Everyday.” Jing Yuan admits after a moment. Any admission from him is hard earned. 
“Oh.”
You blink, and cry all over again because you feel silly and foolish all over. He hushes you, petting over your cheeks, back, hips— anywhere he can reach. He’s good at soothing, knowing what strokes to provide and where. 
“Did you think I didn’t worry?”
“I—I don’t know,” You shake your head. “You had more important things to worry about, right? And— and you were recovering.”
“I asked to see you, you know.”
“... I was told.”
“What did you think that meant?”
“... I don’t know.” You don’t. “I just— I was being a coward. I was scared to see the extent of your injuries before the ship was repaired fully. I wanted— I wanted things to be okay. I didn’t want to go to the surface and see that Vidyadhara who saved you.” 
“... Dan Heng?”
“Sure.” Lizard. Fucker. 
“... You’re jealous?”
“No.” Oh, yes. Entirely. “I just— he got to carry you. I have to join the Cloud Knights and get strong enough to do so myself. It’s only fair. You’re mine, not some lizard’s.”
Jing Yuan looks startled, then his expression softens. 
You besmirch the not-quite outlander easily. You do not know him— you’ve heard whispers. Nothing from Jing Yuan, and you do not pry at his past (and he doesn’t pry at yours.) You know they have a connection from before your time on the Luofu. You don’t fully know its nature, but judging by the passing... grief that Jing Yuan wears, if only for a moment, you can guess. Infer.
(Something of lovers. Almost lovers. If nothing else, Jing Yuan cared for him very much.)
“You needn’t worry about Dan Heng, dear,” he gently. says. “Such things are in the past now. He has moved onto a different shore, and is quite happy on the Astral Express.”
“... He’s not coming to steal you?”
“No,” he laughs, looking mournful again. “I’m certain he has no interest in such things.”
He speaks so sadly. Not heartbroken, it’s not that fresh. He speaks through a wound with a type of melancholy that resonates in your chest like a minor chord. You resist the urge to say, ‘I’m sorry for your loss.’ 
“Do you wish he would?”
Jing Yuan pauses.
“No.” He shakes his head, “Not anymore. We have both grown.”
And he pets over your cheek before kissing you. You know he’s telling you the truth. 
...
Jing Yuan does not allow haste, and neither do you. Perhaps, you both are feeling fragile. You keep breaking each other open, only to help the other reassemble their pieces a moment later. 
Jing Yuan enjoys savoring physical contact, regardless of circumstance or propriety. He steals touches in public in a way that’s indulgent, but never overt. He licks into your mouth with the pace like cooling honey. Each does is meant to brand. You’re meant to feel it, feel him, for as long as the moment will allow. He savors you with hitches of his own breath, a desperation of his own bubbling under his surface. 
You can be a bit shy when he truly gluts himself this way. It’s so overt. It tears something in you, and reveals a squishy, softer center that you’re anxious to show anyone. Even a lover like Jing Yuan who has shown you time and time again there is nothing to fear, other than his own foolhardy decisions. 
Jing Yuan probably likes it when he gets to be this slow. Peeling back layer after layer of you, forcing you to luxuriate in the unfamiliar warmth, and be reminded that he is there and sturdy. 
Jing Yuan is laid between your thighs, your legs over his shoulder. His thick forearm is braced across your navel, your hand held in his. Your fingers are intertwined. His other hand pets at the back of your thighs as you shudder. 
You’re sensitive.
Jing Yuan eats your cunt with the pace of a man who has nothing to lose, no phases of the moon to observe, and something to prove. He laps at your center, squeezing your hand with each jolt of your hips against his mouth.
The stroke of his tongue is slow and unhurried. He’s enjoying himself, savoring your taste, humming and groaning when you inadvertently grind against his mouth. During a more routine fuck, Jing Yuan enjoys when you anchor yourself with a grip in his hair and fuck his face. Any impulse you could have to indulge in such a way tonight is quelled. His grip is unyielding on your hand. Your free hand is tangled in the sheets, occasionally shakily pushing Jing Yuan’s mane away from his forehead so you can watch him tongue fuck you with the pace of the lazy, sunbathing cat.
You drop your head to the nest of pillows behind you with a groan and throw your arm over your eyes.
Jing Yuan chuckles against your cunt and flicks his tongue over your clit. He sucks and you want to sob. He hasn’t let you built up to any release— it’s long form teasing, it’s torture. You can feel how wet you are between your thighs, sticky from your own slick and his saliva. You’re messy.
(This is how Jing Yuan prefers it anyways.)
Jing Yuan had made a point to tease you in your thin panties before putting his mouth on you at all. Stroking over the fabric, barely dipping his fingers under the thin, lace waistband. He kissed your covered pussy until you were almost tearing the sheets in your balled up fists. 
Jing Yuan still hasn’t put anything inside of you. You know it will be— tight. Jing Yuan has large hands and a proportionally large cock (that most Xianzhou Alliance gossip forums still undersize). Part of his slowness is necessary. 
The tip of a finger teases your hole and you kick at his back in surprise.
“F-Finally giving in?”
“I’m not giving in at all,” Jing Yuan pulls away from your cunt to speak, wet and sloppy around his mouth. Eyes half-lidded and so, so content. “I’ve never had anything other than the intention to open you on my tongue and my fingers. What gave you any other impression?”
“Bastard.”
He nips the apex of your thigh and you yip.
“Yours.”
You smile, stupid and a little love drunk, and stroke his hair, “Mine.”
Jing Yuan’s gaze darkens for a moment— something passes there. A thought you can’t read from him or glean anything from. The headiness of the moment temporarily breaks, and for an instant you think that something is wrong. You almost push yourself off the bed in a fit of concern—
But Jing Yuan begins the slow press of his finger into your cunt. 
You gasp and squirm, flinching almost. Jing Yuan bears his weight on your waist and keeps you in place as you do, intently watching your expression and parted, wet lips. You’re flayed. It’s just a finger, but it feels big. His fingers are big— a bit calloused, but softer than you’d think.
As he sinks the digit into you, you pant. He kisses your clit, encouraging you to open up for him, murmuring little words of praise that sit in your brain pleasantly but are hard to make distinct. You go slack into the mound of pillows as his mouth returns to your cunt, the single finger fully inside you, resting as you tremble. 
With a suck to your clit, he crooks the finger up.
It feels good. The spot is tender. Jing Yuan knows just where to apply pressure, the pace and angle are so, so good. He’s memorized this part of you. A month apart isn’t going to remove that knowledge. 
He teases you like this— never letting you rise too close to release. The roiling tendrils of arousal in your gut stay there, like stoked embers without tinder to light anew. You take it— you take what he gives you. You relish each touch, lick, and kiss.
“Jing Yuan—” You gasp his name as he removes the single finger to begin to stretch you with two.
Two is— it’s a lot. Normally, it wouldn’t be. Maybe, you’d beg for more, and beg for more faster. But now, two stings and aches on your insides. You claw at his hair and whine in the back of your throat. Jing Yuan hushes you and spits on his fingers, the extra bit of lubrication helping somewhat, but you’re tight and wound.
“Are you alright?” Jing Yuan asks as he massages the most sensitive spot in your cunt. He asks genuinely, not as a tease.
“‘S tight,” You squeeze out, wiggling your hips. 
“Am I being gentle enough?”
“Uh-huh,” You pet over his forehead. “Thank you?”
“Of course.” Jing Yuan chuckles. “Does it feel good?’
“Y-Yeah,” You whine as Jing Yuan curls his fingers, thumb pressed against your clit and rolling the pearl of itl. “I-It’s unfair.”
“What’s unfair?” 
“That you make me feel s-so good,” You don’t know how else to articulate it. The feral thing in your chest crawls over your body once more, and jerks your hips for more of his touch. You urge his fingers deep, wordlessly beg for more pressure against your cunt.
“You’re so sweet,” Jing Yuan coos, rising to his knees and taking one of your legs with him. Your middle falls open. It feels... vulnerable. You feel exposed and sliced. Your stomach churns for a moment. You nearly ask Jing Yuan to stop.
(Except, Jing Yuan has fucked you enough times to know that you don’t enjoy the physical vulnerability of your sensitive core. It sets you off. He knows that you prefer to cuddle with his massive hand against your belly. He knows you even wear clothes that provide some protection, billowing fabrics and belts. You’re a sensitive thing.)
He slides his broad hand over your belly, and presses down as he leisurely pumps his fingers in and out of your core. The pressure of it burns— scalds you and your arousal feels white hot. He’s prodding you from the inside and the outside, and you feel something bubbling up.
“You’re close,” Jing Yuan says with a catlike smile. “Would you like to come?”
“P-Please—”
Jing Yuan hums, slowing, almost ruining the impending crest, but clicks his tongue and continues. It’s a farce, a little game he’s playing, and much to your (enjoyed) frustration, you’re his other player.
“I would love to hear you beg,” Jing Yuan croons, leaning over your form, bending your leg at an angle that is unfair in all regards. “But, I’d also like to be kind tonight. I think you deserve it— you need it, don’t you?”
“I—” You do. His hand quickens and with his other, he braces behind one of your knees. He ducks down to retake his place between your thighs, eating your cunt with a persistence and vigor that has your eyes roll back in your head. He drills your insides with a deep, steady rhythm that. Maybe could get you pregnant.
Who's to say. 
“I’m—” You gasp, ready to beg regardless of what Jing Yuan wants or expects from you. You want to give him everything. 
“That’s it. Let go.” He beckons you and you break. 
Your orgasm slams into you. The teasing and playful edging made you sensitive and like a livewire. When you finally cum, you choke on your own breath, eyes rolling back into your head, and you shove your face into a pillow to muffle the half-sobbed moans that spill from your lips out of your control.
Jing Yuan continues his ministrations through it. Dutifully. Unyielding, even as you twitch with oversensitivity and wisps of exhaustion.
He gently lowers your trembling leg with a sweet smile. He pets you like a cat.
“You’re beautiful.” He says, softened in a way you only get to see. 
“Thank you.” Your words slur as he settles beside you, tucking next to you. 
He’s hard— so hard that there’s a wet patch on his bottoms from pooling pre. You can feel the length of him against your thigh, and you reach for him. You should really grab some oil—
Jing Yuan stops you with a gentle hand on your wrist. 
“Slow, remember?” He reminds you with a grin that is mischievous. “Let’s take a break, just for a moment.”
“Are you sure?” You look down. 
The bulge of him makes your mouth water. 
“Entirely.” He brings your hand to his lips, pressing a reverent kiss to your wrist. “How about a quick snack, hm? I can fetch some fruit to cut.” 
“... That would be nice.”
“Would you like peaches?”
“P-Please.” Your voice is watery and small. Jing Yuan looks smitten to hear the tone. “... Meldberries too? And apples?”
“Of course,” Jing Yuan looks happy. Relieved. Deflated in a way that makes you realize that he had been so tense before. Since you met him in the gardens, haggard and exhausted.
(You’re in his bed, sated and watery and being taken care of.)
“Can I come to the kitchen with you?” 
“Are you sure you can walk?” Jing Yuan teases, thumbing at your trembling inner thigh, littered with fresh bruises.
“I can now—” you huff, playfully indignant. “We should bring some back. For... later. When I can’t walk. Hopefully.”
“Hopefully?” Jing Yuan tilts his head, eyes half-lidded and amused. 
“Oh, don’t act so innocent!” You laugh and headbutt him lightly. If you had more energy, you’d play fight with him and ruffle the sheets up more than they already are. “I’m sure you’d like me immobile by the time you and your ridiculous cock are through with me.”
“... Ridiculous cock?” Jing Yuan can’t hide the laughter in his voice, or the flush on his cheeks. “So cruel.”
“I— I forgot how big it is.”
“I’m still covered, dearest.”
You gesture, panicked, below the covers to the bulge and still growing wet spot, “Your dick is close to the size of my forearm, Jing Yuan. I can see it without... seeing it.”
“You’re so complimentary.” He practically giggles. “So sweet. I had forgotten how sweet orgasm makes you. Or, is this your fatigue talking?”
“... Both? I missed you.” You say, using your un-held hand to pat Jing Yuan’s covered cock with a smile. “Missed this too.”
Jing Yuan almost squeaks at the unexpected contact. He apparently is just as sensitive as you. He hides his light blush in your neck, and you can’t help but laugh, and think about how sweet the peaches will be when cut by your lover’s hands and shared from the same plate.
...
Jing Yuan keeps his word. The early evening stretches into late evening, every touch and sensation coaxed and unhurried. Slow-stretched sugar, lest it shatters. 
In the kitchen, Jing Yuan cuts you a plate of peaches while you rest on his lap, watching the hypnotic carving of his knife with half-lidded eyes. He feeds you slices on a small fruit fork while sending off a message or two from his jade abacus. He carries half a dozen other fruits back to his bedroom and prods you for a more substantial meal order at some point. 
You finish off the last few slices while draped in his robe, dazed from your previous high. You feel— out of it. Raw and scraped out. Not much different from how you felt during your time in the utility tunnels, but instead of feverishly working, you’re in the warmly light room of your lover. His warm hand is splayed on the small of your back, rubbing little circles. 
You want to ask him:
“How do you do this?”
And Jing Yuan, mirthful, would say:
“Do what?”
And you would say:
“This.”
This: 
The way your mind resists fullness, empty by familiar nature. You’ve been cored, like the apple Jing Yuan dutifully cut and fed to you. Your thighs continue to shake. You’re bruised, marked, all his, in a way that cows and strokes the feral part of your mind still half-convinced this is all an elaborate illusion.
How could any of this be a fabrication? When Jing Yuan is so warm behind you, happy to bask in your presence while you bask in his. Jing Yuan’s contentment is infectious, it always is— but so quickly, he has stripped you of your ability to parry it. You can’t hold concern. You can barely hold your body upright. You want to fall into him, ask to take more, and hold him until you simply can’t anymore.
You do not ask Jing Yuan how he undoes you. Predicting the conversation seems— easy. Too easy. (Probably because calibrating a machine meant to sustain a civilization for weeks on end does damage that’s yet to be fully healed. Prediction is a symptom of overuse, divination a side effect. A cumbersome one.) You can imagine the way Jing Yuan would dance with his words, effortlessly sparring in a way that you simply couldn’t keep up with. You are already disarmed. You need his candor, and nothing is more honest than the General’s body.
“Come here.” Jing Yuan beckons you into the sheets to lay with him properly.
(It’s uncanny how he can predict your needs like a diviner himself.)
You follow his direction and let him tug you into his side. Your cheek rests over his chest, soft and a little rounder than it was when you first met him. He’s gained weight since then— which is good. He’s always been bulky under his uniform and regalia, toned muscle from centuries of training and sparring. But there wasn’t much else to him— he used to skip meals if it was too inconvenient to eat. If you were sharing a plate, he’d offer you a larger portion.
It was something so slightly self-deprecating. At first, you hadn’t noticed it. Jing Yuan is not a proud man, he is keen and clever in all regards— but his ego has stayed in check for as long as he’s been Arbiter-General. He commits this quiet act of self-harm, so miniscule that most wouldn’t bat an eye. His lack of appetite was a manifestation of some burden— as he will continue to live and slowly waste away, why should his body not as well?
You’d like to think you’d broken him of his destructive eating habits. Or, at least contributed. Warm meals, arm-in-arm snacking on street foods at night. Vendors are always happy to give the Divine Foresight a free treat, even if he offers them strales every time. He eats well around you, and you know it extends farther. He takes lunches with Yanqing at least once a week. There’s a stash of homemade honey oats and dried apricots stowed in his desk. 
You are glad he eats. That he is full. 
You appreciate the feel of him under your fingertips, how he has softened and grown a bit less worn during his own leave. He deserves a vacation. Maybe, you’ll sit on his cock and beg him to fucking retire with the promise you’ll be happy to stay that way for as long as he pleases if he does. Anything to keep him this lax and soft. You want to commit it to memory, but you still feel fuzzy.
“Enjoying yourself?” He laughs as he speaks, busying himself with the tacky skin on the nape of your neck. He pets you there.
“Yes.” You grab his chest, thumbing dangerously close to his nipple. “You feel nice.”
“I’m glad.” Jing Yuan says, tone curling and smitten. You feel drunk with it. He hums. “You seem a bit lost. May I guide you back here?”
“I don’t think I am.” You pout. “I’m here.”
“Are you sure?” 
“... Fairly sure.”
“May I try anyway?” Jing Yuan asks. “It would make me very happy too.”
There’s no harm to it, really.
“I’ll be good.” He adds and holds your wrist so tenderly in his palm. “I’ll be gentle with you.”
Jing Yuan drags the thin skin of your wrist over his lips, kissing the flesh as he does. It’s reverent, slow as he promised. He peeks up at you as he does, a curtain of his silver hair almost obscuring the warm gold of his eyes. There’s want there, so caramelized that it makes you ache. 
Jing Yuan rolls you, so that he’s above you, sitting over your hips. It’s— not too heavy. The weight of him is comforting if nothing else. The heat of him is grounding as he hovers over you, nosing at your jaw, nipping bruised skin. He licks the brutal bite he left earlier and you yip. You don’t have it in you to chastise him for it— you— you maybe like it too much to do so. 
Like this, it’s easier to notice how Jing Yuan wants. How his hand is sliding between over your sternum, between your breasts, down the soft line of your belly and navel, and back up again. It’s slow, radiating a yearning that sinks down into your organs heat from a hearth. He thumbs over the line of your throat and kisses you.
He’s more insistent now, licking into your mouth immediately, keeping his rhythm slow and actions drawn out. 
Jing Yuan pulls back just enough to speak, warm breath over your lips, “You’re doing so well.”
You feel warm in your cheeks and tug him closer. If only you burrow in his flesh bones, flush the marrow out to replace it with yourself. You’d do it if it meant keeping him upright for longer. 
“I’m right here.” Jing Yuan hushes you, gathering your wrists in one hand. You hadn’t realized desperate little keens were leaking from your throat, soaking the room. Jing Yuan doesn’t seem to mind. “No need to fuss. You’re alright.”
“You’re sure?” You ask, you feel out of your body. 
Jing Yuan knows this and he tethers you to him with a kiss and firm touch, “I’m sure. You trust me, don’t you?”
“So much,” you admit. 
Jing Yuan looks down at your softly, expression beginning to shatter. He is a difficult man to work with— he wears many faces, several hats, and speaks in riddles more often than not. To receive his honesty is— a fucking gift. You want to hold it in your hands and swallow it. His hair falls over his face as he peers down at you, thumbing over the lines of your throat.
“You’re so good.” He says gently, quiet. Like it’s a secret for the two of you. “You’d do anything I’d ask you to right now, wouldn’t you?”
You nod, then think about what he asked. You still would. Probably. Maybe give him some grief along the way, “As long as you’re not too mean about it.”
“Oh?” He teases. He teases, even now. Even when your core is exposed and you’re bare and he’s stalling despite being hard against your thigh. “You’re still so sweet when I’m a bit mean. I think you enjoy it.” 
A broken, nearly-pathetic noise drips from your lips. You clutch at his arms and try to bury your face in the sheets. Your face feels so warm, it's making you dizzy.
“No need to be shy,” he sounds smitten, a smile bleeding into his tone. He kisses you with it, again and again until you’re breathless and stupid once more. He pulls back until you’re nose to nose, hand drifting to the apex of your thighs. 
You squirm, bucking your hips, urging him closer. 
“Patience, love, I’ll give you what you need.” He tells you and kisses the corner of your mouth. You believe him.
Jing Yuan settles himself between your thighs, holding them open with his own. He is not a small man, and it leaves you very exposed. More exposed than you would like, and it makes something in you writhe. Jing Yuan hushes you, soothes you as he’s so good at doing as he drenches his fingers in oil.
(The first time you fucked, you did not do this step. Oil and any type of lubricant was skipped, and you paid the price the next morning with a bit of light bleeding and an ache that would send Jing Yuan to the Alchemy Commission to fetch some specialty painkillers. He was very apologetic the morning after, guilt-ridden even. At some point, he started carrying little vials on his person and insisting lubricant be used regardless of how impromptu of a lay it was.)
(That is all to say that Jing Yuan’s cock is huge and has the capability to break you.)
He presses a finger into you— it goes in easily, slides with the aid of lubricant and your own slick.
“Oh,” Jing Yuan breathes, gaze drifting from your parted lips to the finger he sinks into you. “You’re so wet.”
You want to be snarky. Of course you are, he’s already had you on his tongue earlier in the day— now, he’s been teasing you, playing with you, and being sweet with you. How could you not be? It’s the only natural response to your lover treating you in such a way.
However, you do not get a chance to show him any sass as he crooks his finger upwards and rubs the pad of his thumb in a familiar pattern, little circles over your clit. A gasping moan spills from your lips and Jing Yuan holds you down with his free hand on your hips. He pets you when you shake and yearn for more too quickly. 
“‘S okay?” You ask.
“Very.” Jing Yuan smiles, beaming, almost purring. “I’ll tell you if it isn’t.”
“Okay.” You nod, feeling wrung out already. Beads of sweat rise between your breasts and drip down your skin. 
Jing Yuan must notice too, as he ducks forward to lick a firm strip over your tacky skin, groaning as he does before moving to one of your nipples. He kisses around the bud, nips just enough to make you fuss, before wrapping his lips around it. He bites, sucks, and groans into you as he does. 
You pet through his hair, scrapping your nails down his neck and back. Marking him however you can.
Jing Yuan pulls away from you, panting, and kisses you hard on the mouth. It’s a clash, really. Harsher and more desperate than he usually would give you. He’s usually not this messy, but your teeth clack together awkwardly and you swallow around the discomfort. Jing Yuan is quick to correct himself, deepening the kiss more sweetly as if to apologize. 
He slips a second finger inside your cunt, next to the first, drenching your hole in slick and lube. It’s— messy. It is wet. The sound is obscene, even if Jing Yuan is being slow and gentle with your most delicate parts. Arousal pools in your gut, and want makes you feel like a sinking puddle, spreading out over the sheets like you’re going to absorb into Jing Yuan’s lavish mattress. 
You open up for him, relax with the contact and let him take care of you as he wishes.
He presses another finger into you— this one stings, despite the preparation and slick drenching you down your thighs and the sheets below you. He moves slowly, kissing your cheeks and hushing you when you whine. 
“I’ve got you,” He smiles, and drags his lips over your cheeks. It’s reassuring, and something blooms from the base of your spine up to your throat. He gives you playfully chomp over the apple of one and you let out a little laugh. It bubbles up out of you and Jing Yuan shares it with his own deeper one.
He fans out his fingers inside you, slowly, with each thrust. It’s measured, practiced. Despite the time apart. 
Jing Yuan is hard against your leg. You can feel him, though Jing Yuan is still wearing his own robe and silks which simply will not do. Tugging, you drag it off him, and push yourself half up. You attempt to reach for his cock, you want it— him. But Jing Yuan stills his fingers inside you, clicks his tongue, and knocks you back into the mattress with a gentle (albeit firm) shove.
“Not yet.” He scolds, though there’s no bark behind it. 
You frown. “But I want you.”
“And what if I want you too?” Jing Yuan asks.
It’s something he’s never raised directly before.
He’s made such a fact known, however. You know he wants you. Jing Yuan was happy to complete a number of courting gestures, prior to becoming something of an official couple. He keeps you close, he is kind to you, he even tells you a secret or two. He fucks you like he loves you and wants you close. He leaves marks all of you, from your neck, all the way down to even your ankles and calves on occasion. He shares drinks with you in his gardens, offers you a place in his bed and somewhere in his heart, even if you’re still (after decades) understanding where that is.
But, so rarely does he state that he wants you so plainly. 
Want is dangerous. Yearning and all. Yearning must be a passing emotion if one is to resist Mara. If anything, Mara is accumulated and rotting yearning. 
Jing Yuan has lived a long life due to how he copes with yearning. 
To admit to it— it is an act of vulnerability. To admit a weakness, a thing that could tear him full of undying roots and strike him down. It is the danger of the Divine Foresight finding a partner and becoming coupled. It invites such feelings. 
You had assumed Jing Yuan hadn’t entertained such notions directly. To give them time in his mind could bring rumination. Which— could easily go sour.
“... You want me?” 
Jing Yuan tilts his head cutely, “Yes, of course. Was that not obvious?”
“I inferred,” You feel sticky and sloppy as Jing Yuan withdraws his fingers. 
He climbs off the bed, only for a moment. He shucks off the last of his clothing, leaving him bare. Candle light casts shadows over the contours of him. His cock looks— painfully hard. As he climbs back into bed, it bobs, swollen and dark red at the head. Almost purpling. It’s slick with pre that is still beading from his slit.
“... Can I suck you off?” You ask, a bit entranced. “Please?”
“Not now,” He tells you with a laugh. “Later, if you ask me nicely again.”
“Okay.” You can do that. 
Jing Yuan huffs out another laugh with a shake of his head, “Insatiable thing.”
“I missed you.” You tell him. Your voice is watery. Your own admission.
Jing Yuan flips you by your midsection, coaxing you to raise your hips enough to sandwich a few silk pillows between your hips and the bed. His hands linger over the bruises on your hips, then slide down the swell of your ass to the backs of your thighs. He pets you until you’re relaxed, boneless.
He parts from you over for a moment, rummaging through a nearby cupboard for oil. You hear him slick his cock. The sound makes you squeeze your thighs together and bury your face in the sheets. 
Jing Yuan surprises you by pressing a finger into you from behind. A sound rips from your throat as he finds your sweet spots, adding another finger quickly, then a third. You’re drenched between your thighs, so slick you feel drunk. Jing Yuan positions your legs a little wider and settles between them. 
“D-Don’t aggravate your injury,” You remember, beginning to push yourself up. A moment of lucidity as you can sense Jing Yuan lining him up. “Not on my account.”
“I won’t.” He promises, running a hand down your back from tailbone to nape to coax you back against the mattress. He presses a kiss to the base of your spine. “Always so caring and diligent.”
“I—” You cut yourself off as the head of his cock teases your folds. Rubbing. “Jing Yuan—”
“I want you.” Jing Yuan tells you, doubling back, bumping against your clit as you moan. 
“Y-You can have me,” You want to see his face, rub his cheeks. “You do have me. You’re mine and I’m yours.”
Damning yourselves.
Can’t the General be selfish in lieu of his looming retirement? Can’t the Master Calibrator enjoy the company of others, and not the mechanical hum of a God Ship?
“I have you?” Jing Yuan asks, beginning to push into you.
You can’t reply— you can’t. Despite the prep, and oil, and arousal all together, it’s still tight. Jing Yuan is thick enough that it’s outlandish, and you’re feeling every inch of that girth as he enters you. You clutch your balled-up hands in the soft sheets near your head. You try to keep your breathing even but it’s hard. Jing Yuan pets down your sides, leaning over your back, whispering little words of praise and encouragement as you take him. 
“You’re so lovely. Look how well you’re doing.”
“You’re going to take all of me.”
“I’ll be gentle. I’ll be good to you.”
He is, and you don’t mean to cry, you don’t, but you do when he bottoms out, and you can feel him so, so deep, it’s in your throat. The heat of him inside you is searing. You’re changed. You’re being carved out by him anew, and he wants you. 
“You h-have me,” You tell him. You scrambled a hand behind you, shaking as you brace yourself against the bed. You manage to get a handful of his head and drag him down over your back. “Jing Yuan, please have me.”
You’ll beg for it; shame has been lost.
You want to stay here. In his bed. By his side. You want him to want the same with you. Not with old flames. You don’t want Jing Yuan to deny himself pleasure in the face of duty, as if the two cannot exist. As if rules cannot be bent or changed by the hand that rules them or the Calibrator who tweaks the vessel that you both live on. Things change. It is the nature of life and starshine.
Even with the Xianzhou Natives' lifetime, they are bound to grow, endlessly. 
Jing Yuan pauses above you, stills so deep in you. You’re worried for a moment you’ve crossed a line. That your desperation has spurred him away, rather than closer. It terrifies you. It grips you so hard that it feels like your heart could shatter to pieces.
(Your worry is misplaced.)
Jing Yuan lets out a shuddering sigh, pulling out almost completely. You panic (“no, no, no, don’t, ‘M sorry”) and nearly flip over to try and recover the situation. However— you’re mistaken.
He groans as he slams back into you, curling over your back, gathering you up in his arms, and rolling his hips. He’s scraping the insides of you. You’re raw. 
“N-No apologies,” His voice breaks. “You’ve done nothing wrong. Y—You offer me yourself so sweetly. I only feel guilty that—” 
He cuts himself off with another deep thrust that punches a broken sound out of you. Tears begin to drip down your cheeks.
“No guilt—”
“I feel guilty,” Jing Yuan punctuates his words with a cant of his hips that has you going slack in his arms, ragdolled by pleasure, “that you think you must beg to be had. I feel immensely guilty that you could have any doubt toward me as a lover.”
He guides you back down to the bed, steadying himself with a searing palm on the back of your neck and a hand leveraged on your lower back.
You really won’t be able to walk tomorrow. 
“I don’t doubt y-you like that.”
(It’s less about some nebulous insecurity you keep as his lover, and more about the solid knowledge that Jing Yuan is so careful with his connections. You cannot believe yourself to be the exception.)
(Sometimes, you doubt that he has any tether to anyone. Like he’s waiting to die. No matter how fond he is of you, that this will supersede it. It damns his well being. It damns the future. But, how steadfast does it make the present? You’d like to think its enough for him to keep you as company due to legitimate desire and care, rather than balming of some wound as your insecurities tell you it could be.)
In retrospect, you’ll feel foolish for thinking so little of Jing Yuan’s feelings toward you. 
He grabs you by your cheeks in one hand, craning your neck back to face him the best you can on your tummy. He levels his face with yours, nose to nose. Eyes alight. He looks... almost angry. Jaw tight, seated and still inside you to the hilt. You’re full— bursting at the seams, but you have enough lucidity to focus your vision and see how pained he looks. Pained and enraptured, loving and loved. He’s bound up with it, the same way that you are. 
“If I could, I would keep you in this bed. If not this bed, then the gardens I would follow you into your tunnels and learn the harmonies and chords you know, even if I couldn’t keep a tune. I would keep you full like this. I would cut you stone fruit whenever you’d like something sweet.”
It’s a declaration. It might as well be a proposal.
You don’t get a chance to reply. Your breath is knocked out of you, like every thought and fear and insecurity that you’ve been shouldering. Jing Yuan fucks you with the full force of his hips, thighs bracketed with your own. It hurts— barely. Enough that you’ll feel it for days and carry a limp for just as long. 
His pace is quick and deep. He’s not chasing— he’s creating. Marking a spot inside you that’s just for him. Only him. It makes you feel giddy and stupid and you laugh through the tears streaming down your cheeks. It’s— all a lot. Jing Yuan keeps you tucked so close, pressing you into the silks sheets. He breathes through his mouth, panting against the back of your neck , sucking more marks into the skin, darkening the preexisting ones. Claiming, in a way that feels different from the hickeys he had given you in the past. 
You sob as he tilts your hips up. He drills downward, hitting your sweet spot with each thrust. You’re— you’re going to explode. The friction of the pillows below your hips isn’t enough to come,but Jing Yuan drilling your insides is getting you close to something. It feels like a peak you’re not meant to climb, and you sob at the sensation. Like you’re free falling.
Jing Yuan holds you closer, wrapping an arm around your midsection, and the feeling disappears.
He sneaks a hand to your cunt. First he feels where you’re joined. The sticky, sloppy mess of pre, slick and lube that you’ve made. You’ll need another bath. Maybe two. He runs gentle fingers along the seam of your cunt, where he’s slowed his thrusts so he can feel where you’re practically tethered together. 
“Taking me so well,” Jing Yuan is breathless. He rubs your clit, bracing himself over your front, and fucks you so wonderfully that your vision begins to darken at the edges.
It’s unfair how quickly he gets you to your peak, touching you like this. He knows your body, and you squeeze down around him with a cry as you crest. Your cunt clamps down as the knots in your gut unfurl. You jolt back with the sensation, overwhelming and all consuming. Jing Yuan moans behind you, a beautiful sound you want to have so committed to memory so that even when you’re riddled with mara, you’ll remember the sound. 
Jing Yuan doesn’t chase his relief, he lays over your back like a blanket as you shake through the aftershocks of your orgasm and fucks you slow and deep. He only hastens when you let out a warbling little sound, something hurt from your bruised insides making themselves known.
He quiets you with a soft, dragged out whisper of praise. He thrusts harder— faster— and moments later there’s a gush of warmth in your guts that makes your eyes roll back into your head. You want to come again, and you can’t help the temptation to reach down and get off, just once— more.
Jing Yuan nearly growls as you do. He bats your hand away, flips you so you’re belly up. Your hips are raised on the mound of pillows and it hits you what he intends to do.
To have both of you.
He throws your legs over his shoulders. Your thighs shake around his cheeks as he gives them a quick kiss, before diving into his meal. He moans and groans into your cunt, out of breath from fucking you still, but no-less diligent. He fucks his cum back into your with a thick finger for a few thrust, just barely— you’ll be too sore and he knows it. 
He eats his release from your cunt. It’s— debauched. It’s so, so much and you can’t do anything other than writhe and tug at his hair. Your hips hurt, but you still find it in you to grind against his mouth. It’s— one of his favorite things. He likes to be used sometimes. This is one of his favorite flavors, when his tongue is inside of you and you drag him closer by his hair and let the friction bring you to orgasm, however long it takes.
You, truthfully, do not have much left in your body to chase this. 
Jing Yuan must know this, or he is feeling similarly— or both. Probably both. You’re too floaty and gone to tell. You’re still crying as he moves to your clit, licks and sucks until you fall apart on his tongue once more, full and sated with him. 
Both had by each other. 
You fall into the bed sheets as you finish, dragging a sweaty Jing Yuan closer. So close. He keeps you closer still, over his chest, cheek pillows on the swell of his pec (breast) and a dusting of silver hair. You’re shaking from the high— so is he. You feel like you’re going to fall into a million pieces.
(It reminds you, briefly, of how it felt when you first dropped into the utility tunnels, after the calibration apprentice went Mara-Struck. How you felt so— alone— gone. How fragile you felt sprinting through the tunnels with the knowledge that your world was being torn apart by forces beyond your control.)
(You felt small and helpless.)
The feeling is quickly extinguished— or maybe made to feel pleasurable. Jing Yuan practically purrs underneath you, petting you, stroking over your new bruises and marks. You keep a hand buried in his hair, petting over his cheeks. Staying lucid— is hard. The last thing you clearly remember was hopelessly fond, adoring, gold eyes, gazing back at you so lovingly, that they could remake you.
Perhaps, they already have.
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It’s sometime later, in one of Jing Yuan’s gardens. This one is nestled, lush, in the large courtyard in the center of his home. A pond gurgles with the bubble of fat fish that swim near the surface of the water. You fed them earlier and they’re still looping, searching for an extra snack.
You lay some distance away from the pond on a blanket that Jing Yuan has designated as your ‘outside blanket’ as it is particularly large (tall enough for him to sprawl out on and more than wide enough to fit the both of you) and thick. Your head is pillowed on Jing Yuan’s arm as he is curled toward you, legs tangled with your own. It’s late afternoon, and the General is taking one of his beloved naps. You’ve taken to combing a hand through his hair, scratching along his scalp and behind his ear and contenting yourself with the little sighs and almost-purrs he lets you. 
It is good to rest.
Your leave has, overall, been quite restful. Mostly. Aside from the times that Jing Yuan cannot keep his hands of you and you end up fucking whereever is convenient before retiring to your (now shared) bedroom. The bouts leave you tired and worn, but in a satisfying way. Jing Yuan has been particularly dutiful and attentive post-fuck, always handing you chilled water to sip and offering a treat. Sometimes a fruit or a candy he has apparently been stashing away. He gives you as many kisses as you can bear, and you return the gesture as much as you’re able.
Jing Yuan has become... handiser. Needier. You’d say clingier, but as much as he tends to cling when he’s around his estate with you, it never feels overbearing. He indulges in closeness with you in a way that feels shameless in the best way. 
It’s the same in public. You’ve gone to the night markets, once or twice to indulge in street foods, and Jing Yuan is equally as touchy, albeit it’s more subtle. A hand on your lower back, standing behind you while he orders with an arm wrapped around your waist. You hold hands when you walk, or you loop an arm through his elbow if it's particularly crowded. He did these things before, but they seem more... necessary. Like he has to keep you close. The contact he shares with you is firmer. Richer, even. He’s always been intentional with you, it's his nature, but now his actions have taken on a different shape. Intentionally showing want, rather than showing closeness.
It creates both a softness and an edge to him that you are thoroughly enjoying.
There’s softness in how lax he is next to you, dozing the afternoon away after completing the bare minimum of work for the day. His cheeks are rounder, and a bit rosy. It’s warm today. It’s the softness of skinship, how you’re both seeking out each other’s barest parts, even if it's only for a moment or two of skin-to-skin contact. It’s how his care is so explicit these days. 
The edge of it is how the General is anxious, perhaps. It’s a possessive flavor that Jing Yuan has, perhaps, always has, but is simply more apparent now. His touches in public flaunt the fact that you’re clearly a couple, nevermind what gossip magazines and street whisperers will say. It’s the consistent marks he leaves on you— those visible hickeys on your neck, down to the dark, sore ones he leaves on your inner thighs and the softness of your stomach. It’s the way he commissioned a set of earrings, one for each of you to wear. 
(He had looked a bit melancholy, just for a moment, when he first presented you with them. Like a memory had surfaced but then was quickly let go and set adrift in favor of the present.)
The set is crafted with gold connected with a flat, rectangle of stone that dangles down from it. The stone is red, inlaid with gold veins. Some alloy that was probably mined on an asteroid— a rarity. They’re beautiful. You hardly know what to say when you receive yours; Jing Yuan had presented you the gift while already wearing his. 
Marking each other as each other’s. 
It’s brazen— and you like it. The beast of feeling that tore you to shreds in the utility tunnels feels far away, lately. Your extended leave has been good and you’re... grateful Jing Yuan has been quite official (and strict) about keeping you away from work.
You run the pad of your thumb under his eye. The skin is delicate, wrinkled just the slightest. It’s a tragedy, for many reasons, that you both are long-lived and cursed with Abundance. You’d like to see the crow’s feet Jing Yuan would have, if his skin did not keep itself so elastic and young.
Apparently awake, Jing Yuan grabs your wrist and brings it to his lip. He sets upon you with a lazy smile. His eyes open, just halfway, and he looks at you, so adoring.
“Are your thoughts entertaining?” Jing Yuan asks, gentle as he holds you closer. “You seem quite lost in them.”
You hum, kissing his jaw with a drag of your lips, “Not lost. Just reflecting.”
Jing Yuan hums himself, nosing into your temple. Then your hairline, where he leaves a line of kisses in his wake. You shudder with the feather-light feeling.
“Would you like to share?” Jing Yuan asks. “Or, perhaps take a rest with me? Though I am very appreciative of the head massage, I do believe you could use a rest. Unless you wish to take a stroll, and turn in early?”
“A stroll sounds lovely in a bit. I don’t mind sharing, though,” you answer. 
Jing Yuan smiles against your skin. You wish it could brand you, “I’m listening, whenever you’d like.”
You gather your words for a moment. It takes— a second. A long one. The Dragon Lady says that you’re experiencing some lasting effects from being attuned to the Quantum fields for too long in the wake of the Stellaron Crisis. She seemed confident your impairments would heal but your mind is that of a mortal. It will take time.
Jing Yuan is ever patient with you.
“I suppose I’m grateful,” You tell him. “I am glad I have a space in your life, and I am grateful that you show it to me in the ways that you do. I would be— very sad, if I was not by your side, I think.”
It is a simple way to put something much larger.
Jing Yuan seems to understand regardless.
He takes a deep breath, then squeezes you to his chest. It forces the air from your lungs in a way that makes you light-headed.
“How kind are you.” Jing Yuan sighs, nuzzling into your hair. “To think of me so sweetly, without prompting. I’m very fortunate to have you as a lover. I hope you know that.”
“I try to remind myself.”
“Do I need to remind you more myself?” Jing Yuan asks, his smile turning a bit mischievous. He rolls himself over you, caging you. “I’m happy to.”
“You’ll spoil me!” You laugh and bat at his chest, slipping your arms over his shoulders, locking your hands behind his neck.
“I quite like having you spoiled.” Jing Yuan contends with a cute tilt of his head. “I should resolve to spoil you more, actually. Do you have any ideas on how to do so? I’m happy to listen.”
“Jing Yuan—” You huff with an uncontainable grin. Your heart is going to burst from your chest. You would let it. You’d let Jing Yuan take its place. You practically already have. 
“I think,” Jing Yuan whispers in your ear, breath warm and sweet. “I ought to keep you in bed for the afternoon, perhaps pause the plan for a stroll until later in the evening. Starfire flies have been gathering in one of the gardens near the Exalting Sanctum— what do you say to a post-coital jaunt?”
“I mean—” You flush and bump your nose into his cheek, like a cat giving ample affection. “I don’t think I’ll be properly spoiled if I can still walk after you’re through with me.”
“So, I’ll carry you? That’s doable.”
“No— I mean— You can—” 
“I’m teasing you,” Jing Yuan murmurs with a tone so sweet and warm, you could melt into the soft blanket and soil below you. “Whatever you’d like. We can decide along the way.”
You smile.
“Yeah,” Your chest feels tight and warm and lovely all at once. Jing Yuan pulls away, and the earring that twins your own dangles, catching the falling sun in its veins of gold. “I’d like to decide along the way with you.”
It means more than this instance, it’s encompassing. To be long-lived and coupled is to tread the shallows of what could be Mara. To wear the mark of another is to dare to swim closer to the roiling beast of Abundance that none of the Xianzhou Natives can truly outrun.
But you think that, perhaps, you and Jing Yuan will be alright until that day, whenever it may be. You will spoil each other, hold each other, and take your steps while extending a patient hand to the other if they’d like to take it. You’ll listen to echoes together and learn to forget them. You’ll harmonize with stardust and Jing Yuan will play his games of many dimensional chess until he (hopefully soon) retires.
The smile that grows on your face is warm like a hearth, honeyed like a spiced tea, and kind. It splits the both of you open, and Jing Yuan kisses you like he can’t help but to do anything else. You don’t lose your grin, and you give it to him against his lips, laughing together as you share breath.
It’s sweet and lovely, you think, as Jing Yuan touches your foreheads together. You have this, and you’ll be happy to have this for as long as Fate and Aeons allow. You think that Jing Yuan will be happy too— with a coveted smile so kind given to you and a bed, shared. 
You bask in it— this. The gardens and the heat of him and the warmth in your chest, for however long you’re given. 
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averyakuma · 3 months
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Secret Admirer
Pairing - Alastor X fem! Reader
Plot - Fluff, building up friendship, secret admirer, physical contact? 🫢
A/N - I’m either gonna cringe so bad at this prompt or really like it 😁 also I cannot sleep it’s almost 2am 😪😢
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It’s has been only a couple of months ever since Charlie brought you in to stay and work at the Hazbin Hotel, and let’s say you felt home sweet home.
Even though you were still adjusting to the new place over all, it was definitely better than staying with roommates who wouldn’t even pay for their part of the rent, you were scrolling on your phone, slightly tilted to the couch arm. You were bored out of your mind, you finished all your tasks, and it didn’t look like the others needed help with their jobs. You couldn’t help but think about a special someone in mind, Alastor.
At first, you and Alastor seemed to hate each other, but the more you both got to know each other, it wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be. You put down your phone on your side and turned it off, thinking deeper. Of course, he’s such a tease with his sinister smile of his, but you thought it was charming.
When you were done thinking about this ‘deer’ of yours, you felt a pair of eyes on you. You looked around to see if anyone was there except for husk because obviously he was working at the bar, but nobody else to be seen. You shrugged it off. As you were about to switch apps, someone had snatched your phone out of your hands, it was Alastor.
“I already told you my dear, no phones allowed in this hotel.” He held your phone with his two fingers, like it was something disgusting or smelly. You sighed while looking up at Alastor, as it was already the fifth time this week he had done this. He took your phone, gave you a lecture, and then make it disappear. “Why do you care so much? Plus how long have you been watching me? I thought you were up in your radio tower.” You said as you stood up, crossing your arms.
Alastor was slightly stunned for you to know how he was watching you from afar, as your secret admirer it was kind of hard to keep it in. “Well dear, we don’t want the V’s to get to us y’know, plus your eyes are glued to it, why not focus your eyes on me instead?” He tilted your head to look up at him. You slightly gulped with nervousness, but shook it off immediately.
“Whatever, I’m gonna go to my room, bye Al.” You scoffed as you sat up, walking to your own room. Alastor watched you walk away, sighing once out of his sight. He didn’t mean to make you annoyed at him, but it was just the honest truth.
You were obviously tired of Alastor doing this. As you slammed your door behind you, you plopped down on your soft bed, groaning in your pillow. You turned your head to the side to look at your clock on your bedside, with a picture of you and the others hanging out with each other, and having genuinely good time. You picked it up and smiled at it, and put the picture frame back.
After a few hours, you heard a knock on your door. You turn your head to ask, “Who is it?” No response. You sigh and open the door , you look down to see a little gift box. You pick it up and turn around, still having the door opened. You look at the tag that says, ‘From Alastor’ You smile at it, opening the box to see a letter and your souvenir.
You open the letter to read,
To my dearest,
I apologize for taking your phone, again.. I’m just saying all this and that because I don’t want the V’s to ruin the hotel, I hope you understand.. I let a souvenir for you so it hopefully distracts you from your electronic.
-Alastor
You smiled warmly again and hugged the souvenir and letter, appreciating it. You felt a pair of warm hands wrap around you from the back, making you stunned. Alastor snuggled his head into your neck, his smile cracking a little. He muttered, “I’m sorry, I hope you can forgive me” and snuggled closer, tightening his grip. You never seen him like this before, after all he was the Radio Demon.
“I forgive you.”
Pecking his cheek.
AGGHHHHH THIS IS SCTUALLY SO CUTEE
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reverie-starlight · 1 month
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{peace - atsumu}
would it be enough if I could never give you peace?
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putting this down as fem!reader, only because there are some specific nicknames I wanted to use (pretty girl, sweet girl, etc) no physical descriptions though!!
very soft fluff, like disgustingly soft. this is loosely based on one of my absolute favourite songs <3
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“I feel so safe with you…” you mumble one night while resting against his chest.
it’s been a busy evening- going to one of his games and then to your work party immediately after. needless to say, the both of you are very tired. so tired that when you got home an hour ago, just past midnight. he had to help you get your pyjamas on and drag you to the bathroom before you flopped into bed and cuddled close to one another. you’ve been recharging with each other and focusing on some quality time you missed out on during the day.
atsumu feels his heart squeeze at the sound of your sleepy voice, soft and quiet and matching the persona you often take on when you’re exhausted.
he sighs in content and strokes the cheek not pressed against his chest with his thumb. slow and gentle. “yeah, pretty girl?”
you nod a little, nuzzling further into his skin. “you’re so peaceful.”
he freezes a little out of pure shock.
atsumu has never considered himself a peaceful person.
he’s seen his fans online lovingly describe him as chaotic, heard his teammates refer to him as energetic and sometimes hard to keep up with. he’s gotten abrasive, overexcited, intense… and what’s more, the lifestyle that comes with being a pro athlete is anything less than peaceful to begin with.
he still doesn’t see those as inherently bad qualities, even now that he’s older and doesn’t let his ego run the show anymore.
however he’s got it stuck in his mind that he could never give you peace. would it be enough for you? would you stay with him ten years down the line, even with all the flaws that he believes he is? he’s not easy to love, he knows it, but is he enough to make you stay?
and then sometimes you say things like that, making him question everything, things that change his own perception of himself.
“peaceful, huh? weren’t ya running your mouth this morning calling me a freak for putting my milk in before my cereal?” he tries to joke.
you giggle a little and he holds you tighter out of adoration. “well you still are, but you’re also very peaceful.”
he’s silent for a moment but he can’t help but ask, “how do ya figure?”
you do your best to word it properly. he loves the way your face scrunches up as you think of what to say. “I always feel so calm around you. more calm than I’ve ever felt around anyone else. and so extremely safe. I can be myself with you and I don’t have to worry about anything when you’re around because I know you’ll be there to help me if something does happen.”
he doesn’t know what to say, but you solve that issue for the both of you with what you say next.
“you offer me a special type of peace I didn’t think was possible, ‘tsum. you’re my angel.”
you make it seem so simple, like there’s nothing in the world that could ever dispute it.
he can’t stop his eyes from welling with tears. he’s always been an emotional person- he knows, he’s been berated for it since childhood, both teased and defended against others by osamu for it. he wears his heart on his sleeve and it wasn’t until meeting you that he considered it an admirable quality. he feels things deeply, and this hits him deeper than anything else ever has.
but you’re just as emotional as he is, so when you look up and notice him trying not to cry, you immediately tear up too. “don’t cry,” you sniffle, trying to wipe his tears while a few run down your own face. “I love you so much, atsumu.”
he sniffles as well, voice thick and full of love. “I love you, too, baby. how’d I end up with such a sweet girl, huh?”
you shake your head. “I’m not, I’m just telling the truth.”
he laughs through his tears. “and being sweet while doin’ it.”
he presses kisses to your forehead, mumbling small thank you’s against your skin. “for the record, I feel the exact same about you. my angel.”
you crawl up a bit so you could be face to face with him. you kiss him properly and taste the saltiness of your mixed tears.
“I didn’t think I could ever offer that to anyone. I’m not used to hearing it, so I stopped believin’ it.”
your heart breaks a little but you’re quick to reassure him. “well believe me. you offer me more than I deserve.”
“that’s not true,” he’s always so quick to defend you. “you deserve way more than I could ever give you.”
you smile a little bashfully and then pull a face he recognizes as the one you make when you’re trying not to yawn. “alright, sweetheart, we should get some sleep.”
he strokes your cheek and gently rolls you off of him so your head rests against your pillow. he chuckles when you immediately choose to rest it against his chest again instead. he loosely wraps an arm around your waist and kisses the top of your head.
you listen to his heartbeat and drift off. your breathing evens out almost immediately and atsumu thinks back to a time when you used to struggle to sleep around him.
he smiles to himself, wiping the last of his tears and whispers something you just barely manage to catch before sleep fully pulls you under.
“sweet dreams, baby. I love you.”
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peace is one of my favourite songs ever, I very much relate to it. and I think atsumu would too. I wrote this at like 1 am so if there’s mistakes, or if it seems very all over the place, blame it on sleep deprivation and devastating brain rot for the boy </3
hope you enjoyed :)
some tags :3
@emmyrosee @dira333 @luvring
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gurugirl · 8 months
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Birthday Girl
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Happy birthday, anon!! 🎈
stepdad!harry x reader
Summary: It's your birthday and you need a little something that only Harry can give you before all the festivities begin.
Word Count: 1,357
Warning: 18+ only, NSFW, smut, cheating, lying, inappropriate relationship, daddy kink
stepdad!harry masterlist
Waking up the morning of your birthday felt like any other day. You were at home for the weekend with your mom and Harry. They were planning on throwing you a small party on Saturday night and it sounded perfect. Exactly what you wanted to celebrate being a year older.
By the time you finally peeled your eyes open you could smell something cooking. Pancakes maybe? Pulling yourself out of your cozy bed and putting your slippers on you made your way downstairs and could smell there was indeed something cooking.
Harry had his back turned as he was pouring batter into the skillet and adding butter. You snuck up behind him and peeked around his frame. Pancakes.
Without even looking at you he began to smile when he noticed your presence, “Morning, birthday girl. Thought I’d make up some pancakes for you. Your mom left to go to the store to pick up a few things we need for the party.”
You smoothed your hands up his back over his t-shirt and leaned your cheek against his shoulder blade, “Looks so yummy,” you smiled and felt Harry reach behind himself to put his arm around your middle and bring you into his chest for a hug.
You’d arrived late the night before and Harry had been out practicing with his bandmates so you didn’t get a chance to spend time with him.
But of course, now that your mom was out… you had a better idea than pancakes. You reached for the stove and turned off the burner before looking up at Harry who was looking down at you with an exaggerated look of shock.
“But you look even more yummy right now, Daddy.”
Harry cocked his head and tried to hide the cheeky smile on his face, “I should finish making these first, Y/n.”
You shook your head and pressed your lips onto his neck, “Before she comes back. Please.”
Harry groaned and placed the spatula down before putting his hands on your hips, “She’s gonna be back very soon. We can’t–“
“It’s my birthday. Please. I need you bad.”
Harry sighed and shook his head as he licked his lips and walked you toward the kitchen table and spun you around. You planted your palms onto the wood and turned to look at him over your shoulder before he pulled your shorts down to your thighs and swatted your bottom four times, two spanks per side, then groping your flesh and licking up through your folds to your ass.
He placed one palm on the small of your back and pushed you down further into the table and wasted no time in getting you slick and on edge. He knew your body like the back of his hand at that point so getting you drippy and open for him in record time was no problem.
But the truth was that Harry was hoping for this exact thing. He wanted you to wake up and beg him for something before your mom got home. Though, you woke up a bit later than he hoped so he knew time was of the essence.
“Dirty birthday girl thinks she needs cock first thing. Hmm? S’that what you want? Would rather have cock than pancakes?” He teased when you felt his hard prick suddenly slipping up and down your labia.
You braced for him to slam into you, “Yes, Daddy. Need your cock more than I need food. I need you.”
Harry grinned as he kissed the back of your neck, leaning over your body as he held his cock at your entrance, “Good. I needed you too, baby. And since it’s your birthday…” He spoke lowly as he pressed himself past your sodden entrance with a groan.
A few thrusts in and out, slowly, deeper on each plunge were all it took for him to bottom out. You took him so well. He kept kissing the back of your neck and your shoulder until he’d coated himself in you and the sound in the kitchen of your pussy being fucked into was dirty.
When he stood up and grasped your hips tight you heard him whimper. The view of what he was doing to your pussy, the way he stretched you, and how your lips gripped him every time he drew himself out to the tip was his favorite, “Fucking so pretty and perfect for me. Hold on. Gotta make this fast.”
When he said hold on you gripped the edge of the table and squeezed your eyes closed. Harry released one of your hips and wound your hair into his grip before he began hammering into you so fast and deep you yelped on each thrust, each punch of his tip into your guts. It hurt to be smushed into the table and fucked so deep, but there was one thing that you’d learned to deal with during your affair with Harry, and that was to expect it to be hard and deliciously painful.
The table was banging about and rattling, and the plate and fork next to your head were clanking against the wood as Harry rocked his hips into yours. Harry’s favorite sound was how wet you were for him and the way your pussy’s cream sounded getting fucked but he could barely hear it over your pathetic yelps and mewls and the sound of the table clattering from the force of his plunges.
Harry gasped when he felt his balls tighten against his body, in preparation for his orgasm. Your cunt felt too good. So warm and sweet around his thick cock. He slowed down slightly and bent to remove his hand from your hip, still holding your hair in his grip, and placed his free hand around your body to rub your clit. He was way too close to coming, but that wasn’t a surprise since he’d been without you for a couple of weeks. He was always like this when he was deprived of you for longer than a few days.
“Need you to come before I lose it, baby. Feel so fucking good…” he moaned and dipped into your cunt deep. With his slower pace, you both could hear that decadent wet sloppiness coming from your bodies.
“Gonna come for you, Daddy… Oh my god…” your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you felt his fingers punishing your clit with heavy friction just like you liked.
The moment Harry felt your cunt squeeze and your thighs shake he immediately pushed himself balls deep and pumped into you, letting your pussy spasm and clench around him, milking him perfectly.
You both moaned as you made a mess between your bodies and the fork fell onto the floor just to emphasize the moment.
When you heard a car door close Harry let go of your hair and turned your face to kiss you quickly before he pulled out and slid your shorts back up your thighs and then tucked himself back into his pants.
Your mom stepped into the kitchen just as you were bending down to pick up the fork as you clenched to hold in all the come Harry had filled you with.
“Happy birthday, my dear!” Your mom sang out as she put the bag on the table in the very spot Harry had just fucked you.
She drew you in for a hug as Harry got back to finishing the pancakes, his chest still rising and falling heavily but with his back turned he hoped your mom wouldn't notice.
Holding you out in her arms your mom looked at you in confusion, “Are you okay? You’re all flushed and sweaty.”
You laughed and nodded, “Oh, I’m fine. Yeah, I was feeling warm. Just gonna jump in the shower real quick before birthday pancakes!” You grinned and tried to brush off the state you were in.
Your mom smiled and turned to pick up the bag, “I’ll be right back. I’ve got something in here I don’t want you to see until everyone arrives later.” She left you and Harry in the kitchen as she headed down into the basement.
Before you could even get to the stairs Harry was pulling you back into his arms with a big grin, “Happy birthday, sweet girl. It’s gonna be a really good day.”
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fallingdownhell · 2 months
Note
Hello !! I wish u a happy Valentine's Day >< love it writing ;)
Can I request Best Friends with feelings Sumero boys(+wanderer) reacting to gn!reader being gifted here and there all day bc it's Valentine's day?
Thank u! U can ignore this if I don't want to write :)
Happy belated Valentine's Day! Hope everyone had a nice day celebrating with their loved ones, be it romantically or platonically<3 Characters Included: Tighnari; Cyno; Alhaitham; Kaveh; Wanderer Content: gender neutral reader; no established relationship; the boys are getting jealous; fluff; love confessions..?; not proofread yet Word count: 2,6k words Enjoy<3
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Tighnari
he loves the fact that one of his closest friends actually works with him, which means that you can see each other on a regular basis
not like Cyno or Kaveh, who he sometimes doesn't see in days or weeks, depending on their workload
Tighnari enjoys working with you, but not just because he's friends with you. You complement each other, his strenghts negate your weaknesses, and vice versa. When he's stuck in his research on some specific topic, you offer him some insight from a different perspective that he otherwise would probably have never even considered
Plus, you're very easy to talk to, and just an overall fun person to be around. It's no wonder he'd want to be your friends.
So it's also no wonder that one day, he realizes that his feelings for you go much deeper than just friendship
Is he gonna do anything about it, though?
No. At least, not right away
He's let it sit and sink for a while, come to terms with the fact that he actually likes you in that way, and that it's not just some fleeting crush. He'd plan to tell you eventually, but much to his dismay, he forgot what time it was while he was pondering about his feelings for you
Valentine's Day was here, and of course, he's heard plenty of talk among his fellow forest rangers. He knows that many of them plan to ask you out, thinking that it'd be the right time
He realized what day it was when the first one came up to you and handed you a self crafted bracelet that you gladly accepted. Tighnari watched the interaction take place intently, yet swallowed down his feelings
But then another one came up to you... and another.. with every person that came to you, handing you gifts and trying to flirt with you, his anger at them rose, and he couldn't take it any longer
With an annoyed tone, he pushed all his responsibilities aside for today, went over to you and grabbed your hand, almost demanding of you to accompany him to the city, since he claimed he had some important errands to run and needed your help with them. In truth, he just wanted you as far away from all of the attention from other people as quickly as possible
His lie became obvious pretty fast when he made no attempts to actually go to Sumeru City with you, but you'd already realised why he did what he did, yet decided not to comment on it
the two of you took a stroll along a close by river, and after some time, sitting down and just watching the nature around you
Not many words are spoken, but it's also not neccassary
he has a feeling that you're aware of his feelings for you now, as well. But he won't say anything to you just yet. He needs some more time, but you can be sure that you won't have to wait too long..
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Cyno
I see him as one of those people who are not to keen about Valentine's day. To him, it's just a day like anyone else. He's also one of those people that would voluntarily work that day
He's never understood the appeal of it. Why celebrate one special day with your partner, when you can show your love and affection for them any given day? Why safe it for one day in the whole year?
Not that he has a partner to begin with, but it's the whole concept about it that just irks him
however, there is a certain someone that Cyno has had feelings for, for quite some time now. A certain someone that was a desert dweller just like him. Who came with him to the City at a young age and who he stayed friends with all those years
You and Cyno go way back, having been friends with him since you were kids. When he was leaving the desert, he couldn't stand the thought of leaving behind the only person he ever knew and trusted, so he convinced you to go with him. Not like anything was holding you in the desert to begin with, so you agreed
Cyno has come to terms with his feelings for you a long time ago, but has yet to make any move on you. Sure, he's dropped some hints here and there, and made some - very poor - attempts at flirting with you, but you never picked up on any of it
and now, he kinda regretted never telling you more specifically. As every other Valentine's day before, Cyno was working this one, too
he was currently on his way to track some hints he'd gotten, leaving the Academiya, when he catched a glimpse of you, standing on the platform before the Academiya building, surrounded by people
he froze in his steps, deciding to stick around and see what was going on. And it didn't take long until he figured it out..
from the people surrounding you, many were offering you gifts, holding them in front of you and begging you to accept them, while you smile shyly and try to appease as many of them as possible
quickly, jealousy was rising within him, but also his protective side started to show. He knew you disliked crowds, never having the courage to deny people of anything, so he knew you had a hard time right now
without another thought, he rushed to your side, putting an arm around you protectively, while he scared away the crowd under some made up excuse
as soon as they were gone and you had your space again, you let out a relieved breath, thanking him for getting you out of this
Cyno stares at you for a second before looking away again, then claiming that he'd walk with you until you were home safe. Just to make sure that no one else would bother you
on the way there, he's thinking hard. This incident showed him, that he'd have to step up and confess his feelings to you, soon. Or someone else might get ahead of him and snatch you away. And he couldn't let that happen..
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Alhaitham
another one who I think wouldn't be too big on Valentine's day, but he'd be much more indifferent about it
much like Cyno, he sees no sense in picking out one "special" day in the year to celebrate love when you can just do it whenenver
however, he does begin to see at least some appeal to the thing when he develops feelings for you, one of his best friends
he loves that he can just spend time with you in silence. That you don't always have the need to converse with him, and instead just enjoy the presence of each other while each of you might be doing their own thing still
however, it still takes Alhaitham some time to accept that he's having these types of feelings for you, so you can't expect a confession from him anytime soon, either
he tries to approach his feelings with logic first, but he comes to realize that logic does not help him in the slightest with this particular "problem"
so instead, he decideds to throw logic out the window for this one and instead settles on the plan to use the upcoming valentine's day this year to actually confess how he feels to you
after talking to a bunch of people about different ideas for gifts, he decides to go with what seems to be the "standard", some flowers and chocolates
he plans on gifting them to you after your shift for the day is done and you're heading home, since he comes by and walks you home from time to time, so it wouldn't be weird for Alhaitham to show up
however, as he arrives, he becomes witness to a scene, similar to what he had planned to do. A man in front of you, asking you to accept his flowers as he asks you out on a date
Alhaitham's heart immediately drops, and he finds himself frozen in place, unable to do anything about it. The only thing he can do, is watch as you laugh awkwardly at the guy and then kindly decline him
seeing you reject him gives him some hope again, and he watches the guy leave first before he approaches you, his gifts for you hidden under his cloak. Even if you rejected him, he was now hesitating wether it was a good idea to actually follow through with his plan
the same exact thing then happened four more times while he was walking you home. Some random person would approach you on the street and hand you some form of a Valentine's present. And every time, you'd kindly turn them down with an uncomfortable smile
seeing the interactions both gave him relief - as you were always rejecting them - but also made him feel more anxious
in the end, when the two of you arrived at your home, he had half a mind to just not say anything at all and just let it go. But then, another thought entered his head that he couldn't ignore away. What if, if he was to forego his chance now, someone else would show up who you'd ultimately agree to go out with?
he couldn't let this happen, not without shooting his own shot, at least
so, before you close the door on him, he stops you, and very awkwardly pulls the flower and chocolates out from under his cloak, handing them to you
he sees the surprise morph into your expression, as he's anxiously waiting for your answer...
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Kaveh
I personally think that Kaveh would be very obvious if he has a crush on someone. Wether that be a close friend or someone he doesn't personally know, he's easy to figure out
he wears his heart on the tongue and is very expressive, so one simple question is often enough to figure out what he thinks about certain people
so, it was obvious to you, and everyone around him, that Kaveh has been having feelings for his best friend, You
has he done anything about that or plans on doing anything?
No.
as much as he's aware of his feelings, he also has no idea how to go about it. How would he ask you out in the first place? And why, for all Archon's sake, would you even say yes to him in the first place?
He has to come to terms with that question and many similar ones first, before he feels like he's ready to ask you out
unluckily for him, you're quite an impatient person, and waiting around for him to do something, when you've already dropped so many hints that you liked him, too, was just too damn exhausting
however, luckily for you, Valentine's day was just around the corner, and maybe, you could use that to your advantage..
that day, you'd ask Kaveh to accompany you on a stroll through the city, to get him out of his little office that he's been cramped up in recently to finish a project of his
he gladly took the offer, figuring that he could really use the fresh air. He always loved to spend time with you, talking and laughing with you about anything and everything that came to your minds
however, he noticed that on this particular day, people seemed to approach you every so often, with roses in their hands, engaging in conversations with you that Kaveh stepped away from, not wanting to eavesdrop on private matters
still, he inwardly scoffs to himself. What are these people even trying to achieve? Don't they know that roses aren't even your favourite flowers?
But the more he looks around the city, he slowly comes to realize what kind of day it is today
Now the roses also made sense... and now he could also figure why they were all approaching you, probably to ask you out
And, why wouldn't they? You were a catch, no matter which angle one were to look from. Anyone would be lucky to be able to call you their partner, but.. Kaveh wanted it to be himself, not some random person who doesn't even know you as much as he does
the more people talk to you, the more jealous Kaveh grows as the day goes on, yet he never says anything about it or to you. He just intently watches everyone that dares come closer to you, narrowing his eyes on them, like they just personally offeneded him
once the day is over, Kaveh then locks himself into his office, trying to come up with the most elaborate plan to ask you out. He wanted it to be something grande, something that would be better than anything anyone had ever done for you, that would outdo all the gifts and presents you'd gotten today... and once the plan is set, he'll be making it happen as soon as possible..
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Wanderer
not fond about this holiday. At all
he hates how stuck up people can get with their feelings. Why did they have to make a celebration out of it and shove it down everyone's throat?
scoffs loudly whenever he sees a couple act all cutesy and stuff on Valentine's day. It doesn't really bother him all that much on any other day, but that specific day? He hates it
he also hates you. You may be his best - and only - friend, but he hates the way you make him feel sometimes
he tries to deny it for a very long time, chalking it up to some malefunction of his body, but there comes a point in his life where he can no longer deny the feelings he has for you
much to his dismay, the day he'd make that realization just had to be Valentine's day... the fucking irony. Celestia really must hate him
He didn't think anything of it when he invited you to join him for some leisure stroll outside Sumeru City that day. He's waiting for you before Lambad's tavern, impatiently tapping his fingers against his crossed arms
finally, he notices you, but just as he was about to call out to you, he notices someone else approach you and engaging in a conversation with you
the Wanderer had half a mind to walk over there and pull you away, because how dare you make him wait even longer? But then, that person hands you a flower, gifting it to you, and he froze seeing you accept it
soon enough, you'd part ways with that person and finally join the Wanderer, but by that time, his mood has already turned sour
he still goes on that stroll with you, but the entire time, he basically ignores you as he tries to figure out why he feels so frustrated by this interaction. Why would you accept flowers from a lowlife like that? Wasn't he enough for you?
As soon as that thought entered his mind, his eyes widened and he knew he was screwed, that he'd somehow caught feelings for you. But realizing it, and admiting to it, are two completely different things
when you two return to Sumeru City, he witnesses two other people approach and do the same thing, gifting you a flower each that you accept with a kind smile
and with every interaction he sees, his anger and resentment towards them grows and grows
he can't deal with it any longer, so he leaves the scene without any further explanation
he'd have a lot of thinking to do, as well as coming to terms with some things. You wouldn't see him for a while, even if you were to seek him out. He just needed to do this on his own, because the next time he sees you, he plans on making you his, no matter what it would take..
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octoberclidan · 3 months
Text
Can't Say No to You
Request: Could I request one with Sam and Dean (they are all best friends and either Sam or Dean has a crush on y/n; you can choose who!) where they all had just gotten back from a hunt and y/n decides to take a shower and then clean up a little bit around the bunker, and then while she is doing the dishes she’s listening to music on a speaker and she dances/sings along to the music (any choice of music). The boys catch her.. something like that? Sorry it’s such a long request I’ve been trying to look for someone to write this idea :))
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader
Masterlist
Story:
"I am very much looking forward to getting home", [Y/N] sighed from the passenger seat in the Impala. Dean was driving, as usual, and he nodded in agreement. It had been a quick enough hunt, but the drive back had been a long one, and they were all looking forward to a rest.
"I'm just looking forward to being able to stretch my legs since someone stole my spot", Sam said from behind Dean, and [Y/N] looked around to smile sheepishly at him. "And someone else", he flicked Dean on the back of his head, "let them".
"Hey", Dean reached around to rub the back of his head. "That someone just saved both our asses back there. She can sit up front if she wants".
"Mhmm, she can have whatever she wants, because that someone else can't say no to her". Sam sat back and crossed his arms, and [Y/N] giggled as he reminded her of a child throwing a tantrum.
"Sam, are you saying that you can say no to me?" [Y/N] asked him. He mumbled something and looked out the window. She caught Dean's eye and they shared a quiet laugh at Sam's expense, before she turned up the music and the three of them listened to it for the rest of the ride home. Truth was, neither of the boys could say no to her, because they both had an above-average soft spot for her. Dean's soft spot just may have been slightly bigger and may have run deeper than Sam's, but she had both of them wrapped around her finger, and they knew it.
***
[Y/N] announced that she was taking a long, hot shower first as soon as she got out of the car in the bunker's garage. The boys watched her almost skip off towards the bathroom as they pulled their hunting gear out of the car. "She's gonna be the death of you", Sam chuckled as he closed the trunk.
"What?" Dean asked, pulling her bag up over his shoulder and grabbing his own.
"When was the last time she carried her own bag in from the car?"
"She hurt her arm on the hunt", Dean shrugged, starting to walk out towards the bedrooms.
"You mean that scratch on her elbow? She lost what, two drops of blood? Maybe you should go find her and stitch her up", Sam said as he caught up with Dean.
"Yeah, and who was it that drove to not one, not two, not three, but four different grocery stores last week because we were out of her favourite ice cream?" Dean chuckled and Sam paused for a moment in contemplation before sighing.
"She's gonna be the death of both of us".
***
Later in the evening, Dean was in his room, lounging on his bed and scribbling down some notes in his journal about how the hunt had gone, when he heard music playing. Not just any music, but one of his favourites, Ramble On, a song that made it on to nearly every one of his mix tapes. He closed his journal and tossed it to the end of his bed before getting up and wandering out of his room, following the sound of the song. He stopped outside the entranceway to the kitchen. There she was, one of his cassette players set on the counter beside her, while she was cleaning up some dishes that they'd left behind before the hunt. He watched as she swayed her hips from side to side and nodded her head in time with the beat, and he crossed his arms and smiled as he listened to her humming along. He leaned against the entranceway and watched in adoration, the attraction he felt for her was just different to other women, he couldn't quite name it though.
The song had ended and the next one started playing when he felt a nudge on his shoulder, and he looked over to see Sam chuckling and shaking his head, watching her too. "How is she so carefree, when we hunt monsters for a living?" He asked quietly, and Dean shrugged, thinking about it for a minute.
"I think she just makes time for it. You know, time to just not worry about monsters and demons, just be a girl, listening to music, and screw everything else".
Sam looked at his brother, who's eyes were still glued to [Y/N]. He'd seen desire in Dean's eyes before when talking to attractive women, but this was more than just desire. Sam knew [Y/N] was special to Dean. He turned around to walk back towards his room, but stopped to pat Dean on the back and leaned in towards him. "Tell her how you feel", he said, not waiting for Dean's response and leaving the two of them alone.
Dean waited a moment longer, enjoying the sight in front of him, before he pushed himself off the doorway and stepped down into the kitchen. He walked up behind her and smirked to himself before leaning close to her ear and whispering "Boo". She yelped and twisted around to slap him in the face with a scrubbing brush and frowned as he laughed at her reaction.
"You scared the shit out of me, Dean... Jesus", she shook her head but gave him a small smile as she realised she'd just wet half of his face with her attack. "Sorry", she reached behind her to drop the brush into the sink and grab a towel, and lifted it up to dab his face gently. He studied her face as she did so, and he felt a warmth inside him as she concentrated on the task. She was about to turn around and put it back when he took it from her.
"You have suds on your forehead", he grinned as he started to wipe her face too, and he laughed as she blushed in embarrassment. He threw the towel behind her when he was done, and then hooked his thumb under her chin to tilt her face up towards him, looking to see that he hadn't missed anything. He tucked her hair behind her ear and let his hand stay on her cheek, feeling the warmth from her blush. She closed her eyes and leaned into his touch, humming quietly in content.
"How long were you watching me for?" She asked, opening her eyes and looking up at him. Now it was his turn to blush.
"You uh, knew I was there?"
"I'm a hunter, I'm always aware of my surroundings", she smiled up at him. "I don't mind, I like watching you too".
"You do?" He raised an eyebrow at her.
"Mhmm", she nodded. "I like watching when you work on Baby. You know, when you have your sleeves rolled up".
"Really? Why is that?"
"You're nice to look at", she said, looking up into his eyes.
"Yeah... yeah so are you", he said, lowering his hand from her cheek to her neck, wrapping around the back of it. They were standing very close together now, [Y/N] leaning against the counter and Dean's hips pressing into her stomach.
"What would you say if I asked you to kiss me?" She asked, her forwardness raising Dean's eyebrows.
"Well", he chuckled, "you already know I can't say no to you". She grinned up at him as he leaned down, and slowly but firmly, with purpose, pressed his lips to hers. They closed their eyes as [Y/N] wrapped her hands around his waist and Dean held her face between his hands. They fit together perfectly. He broke the kiss for a moment, keeping his eyes closed and leaning his forehead against hers. It was now or never. "[Y/N]... I uh.. I'm not really sure how-".
"I know", she cut him off. "I like you too". Relief flooded through him and he immediately kissed her again. It was like she transfered some of her carefree thoughts to him in that moment, as all he could think about was her, and how happy she made him. Sam was right, she was going to be the death of him, and he welcomed it.
The end
Dean Winchester taglist: @123passwort @janineb86 @k-slla @lyarr24 @candy-coated-misery0731 @jackles010378 @hobby27 @pizzagirlxnsfwx @itburnslikehelltobevega @queenie32 @livingdead-reilly @vmaier12 @littlemadamred @darthysfanfic
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tarjapearce · 9 months
Note
Lips anon! The wife getting a cuck dream this team. She wakes up with a broken heart but also relief. She cuddles up to Miguel and kisses his neck. He stirs awake a little, asking her if she's alright. She says yes, but he can tell she was crying and sits up. Cradling her face and pampering her with kisses. He demands her to tell him what is wrong. And she tells him the truth.
He finds it a little funny and disgusting at the same time. Him sleeping with some other tramp? When he has a whole Queen in front of him?
He decides to show her exactly how much he loves her, what no other woman will have. Even the dream slut 🤭
Dream slut 😂😂💀 nsfw, a squeeze of angst and Fluff under cut ❤️ Miguel loves to worship you.
"Just like that! Yes!"
The moan could be heard from outside the door, the bedroom you shared with Miguel wasn't even closed. None actually cared to close the door, that creaked as you pushed it wide open.
The sight sent million knives directly to your heart, each stabbing deeper the more you looked at Miguel plowing into some other woman you had never seen before. He looked vicious, and the woman squirmed, mewled under him, like if knowing the concept of pleasure for the first time.
Gorgeous was a measly word to describe her, tiny waist, perfect skin, round and supple ass that bounced underneath him, perky breast that shook at every thrust. Shimmering skin, slick with sweat. She was perfect even in her tussled state.
That sent the final blow to your heart.
Your eyes fluttered open, letting a couple of tears roll down your face.
Just a dream
Your mind repeated over and over. He would never leave you. He was loyal, faithful to no end. He proved himself that he would never cheat on you despite temptations parading right under his nose. But the way he looked in that dream, so lustful, so needy of that woman, a expression you'd never seen on his face for you.
New tears rolled down and you curled even more in your sheets, sniffling and hiccuping on your own. He was resting beside you, Mouth slightly ajar as the comfortableness of the pillow embraced his head, a hand ontop of his chest that rose peacefully at his breathings.
He was yours and yours alone.
Worming your way to his arms you kissed his neck. Wet and wispy eyelashes tickling his skin, stirring him awake. He looked disoriented at first, then confused to see you clinging to him with a red nose, bottom lip quivering like someone had just said something really mean to you.
He frowned and turned to face you. Eyes studying your distressed face.
"What's wrong?" His thumb wiped away the tears and caressed your cheek, tenderly. you shook your head. He kissed your forehead
"I won't repeat it again, (Name). What's wrong?"
"Don't be mean" He squeezed you into his arms and stared at you.
"It's dumb"
"It's not dumb if it made you cry. Having bad dreams again?"
"It was nothing, I promise"
He frowned and nipped at your shoulder a bit rough.
"Hey!" He nuzzled his nose on your neck, and his fangs made another nip.
"Won't stop until you tell me."
You stilled, eyes casting at his chest.
"I saw you sleeping with... someone else. In my dreams I mean." His eyebrows rose in mild surprise and then he erupted in laughter. A true incredulous laugh.
"Don't laugh! You were enjoying it." you mumbled as tears menaced to gloss over your eyes again.
"She was so... perfect. And... You just... Have never looked at me like that."
His eyes softened and sighed.
"And-"
"No sigas." (Stop it.)
He giggled, genuinely amused
"Chula, you really think that I would leave you, my wife, the mother of my children, Mi niña linda, for someone else that offers nothing but a body?" (My beautiful girl)
It's been years since you heard that endearing nickname from him. He shook his head and his fingers unbuttoned your top pajamas and marveled at the sight before him.
You tried to cover up but he took your hands and kissed them, prying them away from you.
"Look at you."
"All gross and old and couple extra pounds"
He shook his head and smirked
"Más de donde agarrar, chula" (More for me to grab, beautiful)
His hands palmed your breast, then slid down your waist and belly.
"You have no idea how much I want you and hearing you say such things, me parte el alma." (Breaks my soul) He slid your pajama pants off your thighs, leaving you bare before him.
He groaned at the sight
"Look at that. These hips, your breast. Dios mio... Did two babies really popped out of you?
You half laughed and half sobbed.
"You think another woman would take me so well like you do?" He kissed the valley between your breast, trailing down to your navel. A little pooch on your gut, you tried to pry him away from it.
"No tienes ni idea de lo que me haces, preciosa. You were made for me "(You have no idea what you do to me, gorgeous)
He groaned as he spreaded your legs. "When you wear those sun dresses, that blue one with the little tulip print on it?" You giggled at the memory of him grabbing you at every chance he could.
"I need to fuck you in that dress. Yeah." He nodded and just when you were about to protest, your body shivered at the sensation of his mouth kissing between your folds with hunger as the back of your knees rested on his hands, spreading you to have a bit more complete access to your flesh.
You whimpered with a squirm and he smiled at the sound.
"You still thinking you're gross? When you taste so fucking delicious?" Your hands went to his hair to hold him in place and guide his tongue exactly to that spot that made you moan so sweetly for him. His hands worshipped your body, dotingly as they held you in place by your hips.
His mouth kissed, suckled and lapped at you. He groaned at every roll of your hips you did, chasing relief in his mouth. He alternated between devouring you and planting kisses in your skin. Like if in very caress, touch and word he'd convey all his love for you.
Your breath hitched, raged pants rose, You rose your upper torso and supported it on your elbows. Your toes curled in, his tongue applying more pressure to your quivering flesh.
Your hands grope his hair as you rode your high, limbs melting around him as he released you with a pop and a satisfied smile.
"Te ves divina, mi amor." (You look divine)
He removed his pants with a smile. He'd show you why only you were perfect and worthy for him. And if it took things like this for you to understand it, he'd gladly worship you every day and night.
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lady-ashfade · 3 months
Text
My Girl
Day 1 of celebration marathon
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Dark!yan!luke castellan x reader.
-£ask: yandere luke castellan please !!!
-£ warnings: short, yandere slightly harming darling, dark yandere behavior, killing, blood, yandere being scary.
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“Don’t go to far.”
everyday you heard those words from your boyfriend and every day you ended up back in his arms without trying. you had freedom, you had friends, you were safe and kept dry and warm. all thanks to him, without him you’d be alone and unhappy or dead, so could you blame him for staying so close to you? there was one thing the campers saw when they looked at you and that was his girl.
his arm stayed glued to your waist as soon as you left your cabin as he stayed behind or beside you like a guard dog. but did you really have freedom, is that what he called it? you were a bird kept in a cage that belonged to him. hanging out with your friends wasn’t enough for you to feel alone, knowing he was close and looking after you. he never truly let you be.
the face he put on to the public wasn’t the truth and behind closed doors you saw the ugly side of it when you acted out. the way he’d grabbed at your skin leaving bruises, him holding you close to him whenever you both walked around. you wanted him gone and you wanted the boy you met a long time ago to return but you had no luck.
“don’t cry,” his thumb stroked your cheeks while tears spilled from your pretty eyes. “no one will care about him,” you cried farther as you imagined the boy talking to you hours ago. the image of him bloody and looking at you with begging eyes as your boyfriend stood over him. the woods at night were dark and scary without any harpies in sight.
“but- you killed him.” you grieved the lose of the kid. this wasn’t the first time and you knew that, too many kids disappeared and each time luke changed the topic but you saw the proud look in his eyes.
“so you cared for him?” the soft touch on your cheeks left as he grabbed your jaw and forced your head up to look at him. your closed eyes opened as a pained whimper left your soft lips. “wasting your tears on someone who doesn’t deserve it,” he clicked his tongue.
you shook your head again and placed your hands on his chest knowing he liked the contact of your hands on him. you sniffed, “only care for you.” your voice so broken and shaky. his hold left and he leaned down to kiss your forehead while wrapped his arms around your waist to keep you close. the switch up in his mood was unsettling knowing one minute he’s nice and then next he could go on a killing spree.
“just crying because of the blood, aren’t you darling? such a little thing can’t handle anything,” he belittled you in the stupid voice of his. “that’s why I’m here. I’ll keep you safe and will always do so, and that boy was a pest in my side.” His voice got deeper and strained.
“Now what do you say?” his asked. his fingernails digs into your hip making you stand up straight and hold him closer, dispute wanting to get as far away from him as possible.
“Thank you..”
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Taglist: @maria699669
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