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immoralkombat · 8 months

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feeling(s)

Kenshi has been blind for maybe an hour or two.

Johnny looks over at him with sympathy. He's not sure what he could possibly do or say to make things seem any less bleak for him. The man was just trying to get his family's heirloom back and now, after months of training and dedication, one of his five senses is gone permanently through no fault of his own. If Johnny were in Kenshi's position, he's sure he'd be feeling just as desolate, if not more so.

Kung Lao is sitting in the far corner, talking to Baraka. He seems genuinely fascinated by Tarkat as a disease. Were Johnny not in the same situation as them, he would find that particular conversation topic a bit morbid. Right now, it's really all they have to talk about. They've already exhausted all the small talk options you normally go through when first meeting someone. They might as well start talking about the disease that'll eventually kill Baraka.

The salve on the cloth seems to have worked a little, because at least Kenshi isn't moaning in pain every few seconds anymore. Not that it makes things significantly more cheerful, but it does help the atmosphere a bit.

Johnny taps on his knees as he sits, eyes darting between looking at Kung Lao and Kenshi. He's kind of in between where the two have sat themselves, a visual and metaphorical median between the two ways one could possibly react to getting imprisoned by a sorcerer that's almost 100% going to kill you. (To be fair, there isn't much that connects the points of "casually talking about a stranger's terminal illness with them as though you're both standing by the office water cooler talking about whatever hit TV show is airing these days" and "rocking back in forth in the corner about how a different terminally ill stranger took your eyes and you have nothing left in this world." Johnny supposes the best middle point is "looking anxiously between your two co-workers and not saying anything because Jesus Christ, what the fuck are you supposed to say in this situation besides aforementioned terminal illness.")

He really wishes that Kenshi still had his eyes, because every time he looked at Johnny, it always seemed to make everything feel okay.

Johnny thinks for a second and then scoots closer to Kenshi. It's only once he accidentally bumps up against Kenshi's foot and scares the living shit out of everyone in the cell that he realizes he probably should've given an audible cue that he was going to be approaching the newly blind guy.

After Kenshi's done having a mini panic attack over the sudden Hollywood A-lister jumpscare he's gotten, Johnny looks at him and asks, quietly, "Do you want to hold Sento for a bit?"

Kenshi turns to face him and even underneath the newly christened blindfold, Johnny can tell that Kenshi is looking at him with the most surprised and reverent eyes in the universe. The kind of look that you'd get and say "fuck this stupid sword, I'd pay $3 million just to get this guy to look at me like that again."

Kenshi's mouth opens as though he's going to say something, but it shuts again before any words or sounds can come out. He opts to nod in response and Johnny takes the scabbard from off his back, holds it in his hands gently and passes it to Kenshi. Their fingertips graze one another, a way to indicate that the blind man is in the right spot. The touch sends crackles of electricity through Johnny and he wonders if Kenshi feels them too.

It's like the tattoos on Kenshi's hands are swirling around him, colors dancing in front of his eyes. It's more beautiful than any lame fucking Disney movie ever could be.

The yakuza's voice is hoarse as he says "Thanks." It's so small that Johnny can almost see it breaking in the air. He wants to put his hand on Kenshi's and tell him that things will be okay, that he's going to pay for a sight companion, any kind of corrective surgeries he wants, whatever it takes. He wants to tell him that he's still just as strong and fierce and goddamn handsome now as he was before. He wants to kiss him so fucking badly it makes his entire being ache.

He settles for saying "You're welcome," and then sitting next to Kenshi in silence.

He watches the way that he holds Sento in his hands, feels every single nick in the scabbard, every single imperfection. It's the first time in Johnny's life that he's ever wanted to be a sword and, if he keeps hanging out with Kenshi after this, (which he hopes he can), it almost certainly won't be the last.

Johnny wishes that Mileena had taken Kenshi's tear ducts with her after she'd stabbed his eyes out, because the short sad sobs that wrack through his body are almost too much to bear witness to. When he cries, it moves through his entire being. It sends a shockwave from his gut upward, makes him lurch his shoulders forward and hug himself.

"H-Hey, what's wrong?" Johnny asks. He knows it's a stupid fucking question, obviously everyone knows what's wrong, most of all the guy it happened to. But it's all he can think to ask as he watches Kenshi continue to awkwardly jerk alongside his cries.

Kenshi's head turns to face Johnny. From beyond the thin red cloth that covers his eye sockets, Johnny can feel them boring into him.

"Cage, could I touch you? I want to remember what your face looks like."

If Johnny were operating on his full mental capacity, he would probably explode at this question. He would become the fireworks they popped last night at the banquet over their heads as they feasted. He would be attached to one end of a fuse with Li Mei holding the other end, readying herself to spark it and send him to the stratosphere.

"Y-Yeah, of course you can, Ken-doll. Just make sure not to damage the goods - people pay good money for this mug to show up on their big screens."

The smugness in his voice would normally earn him a "tch" or a groan, (or an eye roll), from Kenshi. Hearing him chuckle under his breath makes his heart soar.

He turns his face toward him and waits, but no touch comes. His eyes close, he anticipates the electricity to come back... and instead he hears Kenshi clearing his throat awkwardly.

Johnny opens his eyes and finds that Kenshi's still got his hands on Sento. He tries not to be jealous of the sword again, but as with any other time he's tried not to be jealous of someone or something that has what he wants, he fails miserably.

"Could you get closer, Cage?"

"Not the first time I'm hearing that question, won't be the last. How close you need me, handsome?"

The words come out before he can even process them. Jesus Christ, is he really that much of a disaster that he can just openly call a guy he's been crushing on for at least a month handsome without even thinking about it? He's a fucking mess. His wife left him and now he doesn't know how to act. She was gonna be the only person he'd ever be able to trick into loving him and now she was gone.

"I'm going to turn, and I suggest you do the same. I want to be facing you. You can sit with your legs touching mine if it helps."

Great, now Kenshi has a colorful blindfold that also serves as a perfect swatch for the shade of red Johnny's face turns every time the man says something that's totally fucking normal for two people that are acquainted with one another.

Johnny does as he's told, because if there's one thing he's good at, it's taking directions. (Ignoring literally every single major motion picture he's ever been in, every statement he's ever made to the press after consulting his legal teams and public consultants, and generally living life up until this point.)

His knees knock against Kenshi's and it takes him aback for a second, how giddy and childish the butterflies he feels in his stomach are. Getting to know Kenshi was so simple. He wishes he had just taken a second and been less of a dickwad back when they'd first met, because maybe then it'd be easier for him to grow a pair of cajones and tell Kenshi that he doesn't spend a single night without thinking about how much he wants to trace the tattoos on his hands and arms. Maybe if he had just given Sento over, it'd be easier to admit that the low rumble of Kenshi's voice does something to stir up the pool of heat in his stomach that he thought had been long since gone after getting married to Cristal. Maybe if he hadn't tied Kenshi to one of his kitchen chairs, it'd be easier to ask him if kissing washed-up celebrities was something he'd be interested in doing.

"I'll put my hand out, you lean forward to match it."

Kenshi's palm is extended and it takes every ounce of willpower in Johnny's aching body to not press his lips against it. He leans forward until his cheek is lightly touching the yakuza's hand.

He must be hearing things, because he swears he hears Kenshi's breath hitch when they make contact for the first time. Nah, surely not. Must've been the wind.

If Kenshi's senses are heightened because of the loss of his vision, then Johnny's senses are heightened because of the gain of his touch. He purses his lips together to stop from letting out some sort of obscene sound as he feels Kenshi's hand slowly smooth over his cheek. He thanks whatever fucked up Gods exist other than Liu Kang that he finally got on that moisturizing routine that he learned off of TikTok three months ago.

As Kenshi's hand slowly feels out every angle and curve of Johnny's face, his thoughts rush a mile a minute. He wonders if he should've done a closer shave today - maybe his stubble is gonna be too sharp and it'll hurt Kenshi and leave him with little cuts or rug burn on his pretty perfect wrap-around-my-throat-please hands. He wonders if his nose is too big. He wonders if he maybe should've invested in hair plugs after that one weird SNL dropout made a comment about his weird square hairline back when he guest starred on the Comedy Central roast of Megan Fox. He wonders if his eyes are too small or too large or too close together or too far apart. He wonders if he should smile so Kenshi can feel his dimples.

"Yep, it all feels just like how I remember it. Although the stubble has gotten a little longer."

That is certainly not the answer he was expecting to hear.

His voice is small, barely there, as he chokes out his question. "You remember what I look like?"

Kenshi nods. "I do."

Johnny goes to open his mouth to ask, "Then why did you ask to touch it if you already knew?"

But then Kenshi's fingers are on his lips, tracing them with the reverence he'd have holding Sento, and for a moment, Johnny finally thinks he's better than that stupid fucking sword. His smile has the same curves, the same edges. The only difference is that Kenshi can't accidentally hurt himself this way. (He can, however, accidentally hurt Johnny. But even that would be better than the alternative, he thinks.)

Kenshi's thumb is on his bottom lip, the rest of his hand now holding Johnny's chin. If he tilts it up even one degree, Johnny thinks it'll be over for him, that he'll be kissing Kenshi before he can even think to stop himself. He'd always had poor impulse control - why else would he have spent $3 million on a fucking sword to hang up in his living room?

"These are the same, too. I'm glad you weren't hurt in the fight, Cage."

Johnny feels so fucking overwhelmed. He wants to ask so many things. First of all, what does "these are the same, too" mean? Second, why does he care about the guy who bought his fucking family heirloom and refuses to give it back? Third, why does he insist on calling him Cage like one day he won't end up calling him Johnny and breaking his heart? Fourth, what in the goddamn fuck does he mean about Johnny's fucking lips being the goddamn motherfucking same?!

Johnny decides to play it up like he always does. "Well, 'course. Gotta keep my pretty mouth. It's what makes the big bucks. I wouldn't be the same without it."

Kenshi smirks, and thank Liu Kang's weird god siblings that he's blind right now, because Johnny is beet red, mouth agape, with his eyebrows raised (and he's fairly certain that something else also rises).

"That's true. You would not be the same without that infamous mouth." Kenshi accents the compliment(?) with a playful slap to Johnny's cheek, and then his hand is withdrawn entirely, leaving an empty ghost where he should still be holding Johnny's face in his hands.

He bites back the urge to immediately ask if Kenshi wants to know just how infamous the mouth is, and settles for clearing his throat and moving back to sitting against the wall next to Kenshi.

He looks over at him after he's gotten calmed down. His heart is still jackhammering against his ribs, but as long as Kenshi can't feel his pulse, he doesn't have to know. Kenshi seems to sense Johnny's eyes on him because he turns to face him, red blindfold all that stands between the gaping holes where Kenshi's eyes used to be and Johnny's gaze full of adoration.

The yakuza grabs Sento from his lap and hands it back to Johnny.

"Thank you. I appreciate you letting me hold it. And I appreciate your help in grounding me back to reality."

Johnny nods, taking Sento back and putting it where it so wrongfully deserves to be, strapped against Johnny's sore fucking back.

"No problem. Lemme know whenever you get the urge to feel out what an Adonis looks like, I'm happy to oblige." His comment is a means to an end. He plays up the egoism to ignore the shock that courses through him as Kenshi's fingertips touch his one last time.

He resolves then and there to give Sento back as soon as they escape from here, and they will escape.

This cannot be the last time he feels Kenshi's hands on him.

Baraka whispers, about as well as he can without lips or an inside voice, "Do they not realize how much they yearn for one another?"

Kung Lao shakes his head, putting a hand on Baraka's shoulder and immediately regretting it once he feels a spike tear into his palm. "They've just gotta be stupid about it for a bit longer. They'll figure it out."

"Surely their pining has to cause some sort of agony for you as well, does it not, Earthrealmer?" Baraka looks genuinely confused, or as close to it as he can get from what Kung Lao can tell.

Kung Lao hangs his head, sighing languidly. "Of course it does. But what else am I gonna do about it? Tell them? They're not gonna believe me. Trust me, they've got to figure it out on their own time, or they never will."

And as he sees Johnny's hand inch closer to Kenshi's, finally overlapping the tattoos and interlocking their fingers, Kung Lao thinks that maybe the agony won't last much longer.

#johnshi #johnny cage x kenshi #johnny x kenshi #kenshi x johnny #kenshi x johnny cage #johnny cage #kenshi #kenshi takahashi #mk1 #mk1 2023 #mk1 spoilers #mortal kombat 1 2023 #mortal kombat 1 spoilers #mortal kombat #this was also posted to my ao3 but i'm keeping works limited to registered users only bc. protecting my works and whatnot!#cross posted on ao3 #immoralkombat.exe

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just-jordie-things · 6 months

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Hear me out.. hcs/blurbs of jjk boys (Gojo, Toge, Megumi, Yuuta, and itadori? Though you can choose whatever fits! 🫶) with a smug/teasey gf? (or maybe b4 dating whatever u prefer) like being a total definition of ">:3c" lol

GOJO SATORU

adores it.

you're so feisty when you're flirty and he will match that energy

it made the stage before your relationship was official very fun, because you were not shy with how you felt about him

and uh i think that he'd be very turned on by it all

i think he'd really like it if you playfully walked your fingers up his chest- yk what i mean? that slow little tap tap of your nails climing up his shirt ooo i think he'd flusterrrr

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI

dear lord just have some mercy on him

he's never not blushing when he's around you

whether what you whispered in his ear was a sweet sentiment or the dirtiest thing he's ever heard, he's red. neck, ears, cheeks and all.

when you're alone he can dish it back a bit, i think megumi would have some rizz in private

but if you're around others, the ball is compeltely in your court. he secretly loves how much pda you give him but he definitely looks like he'll crumple to the ground at any given point

ITADORI YUUJI

simps for you. hard.

he genuinely had no clue if you actually liked him at first because it was just so common of you to get touchy and flirt a bit

(i mean, you'd address him as hot stuff every time you saw him but he's just a bit oblivious leave baby boy alone)

and how was he supposed to know comparing hand sizes was a casual flirt go to??

once you get together your affections only increase tenfold but yuuji will match the energy no problem.

you'd definitely do the "i love you more :(" "no i love YOU more >:(" fight but it probably ends in a make out sesh every time

INUMAKI TOGE

thinks you're just the cutest thing in the world

you'll playfully bite his arm or his cheek and he'll giggle and on some occasions you've even see him kick his feet

just wants to kiss you everytime you give him that cheeky little smirk

you make him for his quietness with how much you flirt with him and he adores it. sometimes it's smooth, and sometimes it's the corniest thing he's ever heard. but he loves it all the same.

please play with his hair, he needs physical touch. he does not care who's around, just touch it. he uses that expensive conditioner now just cause you said you liked the smell.

OKKOTSU YUUTA

like megumi, gets flustered easy

but that's just cause it's easy to make him blush. he's got no problem with pda and when you're together it's like a competition to see who will initiate first.

he's the most fun to tease. you like to graze your hand on his thigh or subtly drag your fingers over his abdomen when you're in a public setting just to make him squirm. always complete with casual cheek kisses

he retaliates by grabbing your ass in passing. or like texting you some of the nastiest fucking things you've ever read. he wants to see you get flustered but you always lock eyes with him with the most excited look on your face. you're a hard person to tease.

you call each other babe a lot. you definitely called him babe a lot before you got together, too. it's corny but he loves it

#megumi brainrot #satoru brainrot #yuuji brainrot #toge brainrot #yuuta brainrot #gojo satoru x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader #itadori yuuji x reader #inumaki toge x reader #okkotsu yuuta x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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nihilo-sensei · 2 months

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The Infamous Chuuya-SSKK Car Ride

Two. Fucking. Hours.

Akutagawa and Atsushi have been arguing for two hours almost non-stop and there's still an hour to go in the trip. If you had asked Chuuya before he climbed into this four-wheeled prison what the most annoying thing on Earth was, he would've said without hesitation that it was dealing with Dazai. That was a more innocent time, a time before life had decided to punish him for his every felony, misdemeanor, and wasted gallon of milk. He wasn't sure if these apparently nuclear-powered bickering machines being confined to the backseat was better or worse for him. Probably better; at least one half of the invective wasn't being spewed directly into his left ear.

As much as he wanted to blame a member of the Armed Detective Agency for all of his misery, he was disappointed to say that it had been his subordinate and fellow mafioso who started this. Granted it hadn't taken much to get the weretiger to dive down to Akutagawa's level, but he was just trying to make conversation, asking if Chuuya listened to much music. Honestly, the gravity manipulator would've been delighted to spend a three-hour car ride talking about music, even with an ADA member. It was kind of nice that the kid had reached for some common ground between them. Akutagawa really hadn't needed to cut Chuuya off before he had a chance to answer by saying, "No one cares, weretiger." That one admittedly rude remark had sealed Chuuya's fate for the rest of the ride out to the countryside. Thanks, Aku.

"You better not get in my way when we get there, weretiger. The Port Mafia doesn't need Least Beneath the Moonlight."

"I guess I'll leave the job to Brash-ōmon, then. Get over yourself."

How are they still coming up with new insults? Chuuya hadn't even had the energy to tell them to shut the fuck up passed the 35-minute mark, about 25 minutes after his throat started to hurt from trying to match their combined volume. It was like they didn't even hear him. They were in their own little world together.

That was what he'd been warned about, though, wasn't it? Akutagawa and the tiger boy had… tension. He had heard about it from Dazai, but hadn't given it much thought. After all, why would he bother listening to anything that mummy's asshole says off the battlefield? He would happily throw Dazai off a building if he wasn't sure it would make that freak even happier than it would make Chuuya. Something about this train of thought makes Chuuya feel like a hypocrite for some reason. Where was he?

"At least I don't dip my bangs in Wite-Out!"

"Your impoverished ass could only afford one bang!"

Oh right, this thick fog of something making itself at home in Chuuya's backseat and inside his pounding skull. He had thought it was just a joke or an exaggeration, but this much passion for each other? Could all of that really just be simple hate? No, this doesn't really feel like hate. But if they don't hate each other why tell themselves that they do? That's so self-destructive. They should just confront their feelings like adults. Even if those feelings aren't romantic they could still find themselves good friends, they have a lot in common. At least they'd stop making their sexual tension or whatever everyone else's problem.

Why does Chuuya feel like a hypocrite again?

—

Chuuya stares into the rear-view mirror. The new Double Black had practically passed out five minutes into the drive to Yokohama. Not surprising after the mission had turned out to be far more complicated then they had anticipated. He wasn't complaining, he really couldn't deal with another three hours of angry sound waves bouncing around an enclosed space. Truthfully, they'd earned the rest. Even when the situation was going to shit they'd worked well together. Atsushi kept Akutagawa's mind on the civilians while Akutagawa's support kept Atsushi calm and focused. Chuuya sees now why Dazai put them together, not that Chuuya would ever openly tell the man he was right.

So he'd let the pair sleep, only debating whether he should wake them up after the blessedly silent car had crossed the Yokohama city limit. He had glanced into the mirror and caught sight of something that made him suddenly redirect as much attention as he safely could to it. The Sun had set halfway through the drive so he had had to wait for the car to pass the next street light to get a good look at it, and sure enough he saw exactly what he thought he had. At some point in the drive Atsushi and Akutagawa had leaned into each other while they slept. Atsushi's head was now resting on Akutagawa's shoulder while the mafioso's head rested on top of the weretiger's. Chuuya smiled. Definitely not hate.

As the car nears the ADA office, where Atsushi was to be dropped off, Chuuya pulls into a gas station with a new mission in mind. After he puts the car in park he takes out his phone and hopes that fatigue keeps the pair asleep and unaware while he does what needs to be done. He gambles on using the flash and wins a nice, clear picture that's going to absolutely make his fucking day the next time Akutagawa decides to make him sit through another "that goddamn foolish weretiger" rant. But was it really fair to make just Akutagawa suffer when Atsushi was about as responsible for Chuuya's three-hour ordeal earlier? No. And isn't the ADA all about that justice shit?

Chuuya opens his text thread with Dazai, taps his thumbs to the screen a few times, and hands down Atsushi's sentence with the push of 'Send'. He only has to wait a few seconds before the weretiger's irritating superior responds.

Mackerel (21:04): Oh my god, thank you so much for this! How useful my dog is becoming!

You (21:04): I seriously can't do this with you right now, Dazai. Those little bastards almost wiped me out on the way to the mission. They argued the entire time. I'm fucking tired.

Mackerel (21:05): Impressive, isn't it?

"Impressive" was one way of putting it. "Never gonna happen again" was another.

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fear-is-truth · 2 months

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𝜗ϱ 𝑨𝑵𝑻𝑯𝑬𝑴 𝑶𝑭 𝑺𝑼𝑪𝑪𝑬𝑺𝑺 ── kai anderson

꒰ 𝒌𝒂𝒊 𝒔𝒆𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒉𝒐𝒘 𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒔𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒐𝒍 ꒱

˚₊ ⊹ 𝒓𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒃𝒚: @yoursweetestgirl ˚₊ ⊹

𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒔: college student!fem reader. legal age gap. sfw + nsfw content. probably ooc. typical kai behaviour (toxic, controlling, sexist ) talks of murder, blackmail.. spanking

𝓐/𝖭 : sorry it’s super ooc.. but i heavily relate to being stressed out by school, so here you go.

𝜗ϱ

imagine yourself stressing over a very important exam:

okay first of all, kai would use this as an opportunity to mansplain his philosophy on “self-growth”.

you know, that speech about “a larvae bee has to shed its skin to become queen”. etc.

and if you’re crying, don’t expect kai to go soft on you. he’d tell you point blank to stop being so weak.

then, he’d do a pinky power ritual with you and ask: “how bad do you want this?”

you can might as well kiss your moral compass goodbye because kai is very persuasive and there’s a good chance that he’d successfully corrupt you.

“in an unfair world, there's no such thing as ‘cheating.’ it's a quicker, smarter path to success. if you don’t seize the opportunity, someone else will take it.”

being a man of action, kai will do anything for you. fuck morals (as if he has any, ha)

given his computer programming skills, he'd hack into the system to steal the answers for the upcoming exam.

also ‘modify’ your grades a bit while he's at it, maybe even sabotage other peoples’ too.

if you’re immune to kai’s gaslighting and insist that you want to study yourself, then fine. he’d let you skip a couple of cult meetings.

when you’re studying in the house, kai would tell the rest of the cult members not to stick around after meetings.

you’d have to make up for it, though. like clean up the trash or something.

——————————————————————————————

imagine yourself in danger of failing your worst subject:

failing your classes? leave it to kai. he would find a way to blackmail or threaten your professor into letting you pass.

if the subjects that you’re struggling with happens to be mathematics or science, you’re in luck because he’s very good at it.

fair warning, kai is not the most patient teacher. he’d get frustrated and think that you’re stupid if you don’t get it right.

——————————————————————————————

imagine yourself being bullied at school

if someone at school is giving you shit, he’d stalk them on social media and send winter to spy for him.

a few days later, that person won’t be bothering you again. or breathing.

——————————————————————————————

imagine yourself experiencing study burnout:

on more than one occasion, you experience study burnout, skipping meals and pulling all-nighters.

kai would get super pissed. like how dare you wreck your body over something stupid like this?

the unhealthy lifestyle will affect your reproductive hormones and menstrual cycles, ultimately reducing your chances of fertility success. (sorry i had to add this)

he’d enforce a bedtime on you. lights out at eleven thirty– no ifs, ands, or buts.

“if you're incapable of handling your own sleeping schedule, someone else has to step in and do it for you. bed. now.”

and more mansplaining:

“why’d you seek academic validation to prove superiority? a perfect gpa or fancy diploma won’t help you change history-”

despite being his annoying self, kai would still take care of you. in his own way.

he makes sure that your basic needs are met, like having three meals a day, staying hydrated etc.

kai doesn’t cook, (kitchen work is for women, in his opinion) so he either orders takeout or microwaves pizza for you.

kai very skilled at reading people, to the point that it’s kind of scary. he can easily pick up on your frustration just from the smallest signs– a faint furrow of your brow, the way you purse your lips or tap your foot.

when this happens, he’ll snatch away your textbook or laptop and insist that you take a quick shower.

“get yourself cleaned. no point in sitting here, growing mold and not achieving anything.”

kai joins you in the shower, saying that he was gonna do it anyways and you might as well shower together to save water (oh so now he cares about the environment)

he washes your hair for you, acting like it was no big deal. needless to say, one thing leads to another..

- venturing into ˚₊ ⊹ NSFW ˚₊ ⊹ territory, mdni!! -

kai has an very… interesting method of helping you improve your memory.

he’d have you over his knee and quiz you with textbook material.

you’d get spanked for every wrong answer.

every time you make a “breakthrough”, for instance finishing that assignment or finally grasping the difficult material, he'd glance at you with the faintest hint of approval in his eyes.

followed by celebratory sex. (a win-win situation)

after a long study session, you can count on him to fuck the stress out of you.

TAGLIST: @slvt4jamesmarch @kaismanwich @maddaline @evpeters87 @lacucarachapisser @officerballs @howtobesasha @lissasharp @feefymo @stveharringtn @nickrhodeslittledarling @bluerthanvelvet444 @r8ttenapples @nahoyasboyfriend @taintandviolent @babygorewhore @kai-slut @doll3tt33 @babydollxxblood @coentinim

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apomaro-mellow · 5 months

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Wrong Number 7

They had decided to meet around five, and that was when Steve and Robin drove up to the building where Eddie worked. This was it. He was going to see him face to face. He was going to be able to touch him. And feel him. He was going to be able to kiss him. It was all really happening.

He parked across the street and got out. Robin came over to his side and pulled at his sleeve.

"Is that your man?"

Steve locked the car and looked up to see Eddie, standing by the entryway, staring intensely at his phone, probably waiting for a message from Steve to tell him he had arrived. As if pulled by a magnet, his gaze lifted up and his beamed when he saw Steve.

And then he ran across the street without looking.

"Eddie!", Steve shouted when a car stopped short to not hit him but Eddie paid it no mind.

"I'm comin' babe!", Eddie exclaimed, completely missing the point.

Steve found it hard to be mad at him when Eddie was crushing him in his arms and then pinning him against his car and kissing him like he'd just come back from a war. Steve's first thought was to finally touch that hair and feel it curl around his fingers like it wanted to hold him just as close.

Eddie's tongue pushed into his mouth and Steve let it slide in easily. This was the man he'd been talking to for weeks. The man who had been the star of his fantasies for nights since the first time he ever saw his face. Eddie's hands dug into his hips and Steve could feel his rings digging in and Eddie's hips were flush with his own and-

"Okay, okay! I don't have an actual spray bottle but please stop! We're in public!", Robin pleaded.

Eddie, sweet sweet Eddie, pulled away because he didn't know Robin well enough. Steve knew her very well though and grabbed Eddie's face to bring him back in for another kiss. And another. And another. And THEN Robin started pelting Steve with something hard. He finally came up for air to see that she was attacking him with tic-tacs.

"Heel! Down boy!", Robin yelled. "I shoulda had you neutered a long time ago."

Eddie chuckled and pulled back completely, hands in the air in surrender. "Didn't mean to attack your purebred. You know how us mutts are."

Steve was listening. He was definitely listening. But he was also looking Eddie up and down in three dimensions.

"Hey Steve, got anything to say about crossing the street without looking both ways?", Robin pointed out.

"Yeah!", Steve said, brain slowly catching up. "Uh, don't! I can't make out with you if you're roadkill."

"I'll keep that in mind, baby." Eddie grabbed his hand and pulled him to his side, putting an arm around his waist.

Giddy with joy, Steve turned to Robin and mouthed at her, 'I'm baby'.

Robin rolled her eyes as they crossed the street (safely) and went inside. Her eyes got big as she took it all in.

"Steve! They've got knives! Vickie loves knives!"

"What happened to Chrissy?", Steve asked.

"I'm in high demand", Robin grinned as she checked out the wall of axes.

Eddie introduced Robin to one of his co-workers and friends who was going to help her through her lesson. To his credit, Jeff only looked slightly worried about how interested in sharp things she was. Eddie led Steve two lanes over so that they could have a bit of privacy. Well, as much as one could in a warehouse space where people were throwing axes.

Someone was playing music though, meaning their voices didn't carry and they were in their own little world. Which was just as well because Steve didn't think he could focus on much else watching the way Eddie handled an axe. He could hear Robin's voice in his head cracking wise at the whole 'being sexy with a phallic object' but Steve didn't even think Eddie was doing it on purpose.

He was literally just demonstrating on to use it but he was also showboating, lofting the axe in the air while standing in the lane. He had given Steve strict instructions not to pass a certain line and Steve wasn't looking to get his head lopped off so soon.

"Think you're ready to try?", Eddie asked.

Steve nodded and Eddie handed him an axe, handle first and then got out of the way to watch him from the side. Steve wound up and tossed it the way Eddie showed him. Not quite a bullseye but very close to it.

"How was that? ...Eddie?"

"Hm?"

"How was my throw?"

"Oh good, good. It was good." Eddie had been watching. He couldn't even think of tearing his eyes off Steve. He had watched the way his arms flexed and his hips shifted and his legs-god his legs-wait Steve was saying something else.

"Sorry, what?"

Steve smiled. He recognized the look on Eddie's face. "You didn't hear a word I just said, did you?"

"Not a thing, gorgeous."

Steve stepped over to him and put his arms around Eddie's shoulders. "I was asking if you could help me with my technique?"

That was how Eddie found himself in the much coveted position of standing flush against Steve's back, holding his wrist while directing him on how to throw the axe with one hand.

"Is that how you guys normally teach this stuff?", Robin asked, watching Eddie's hand get really bold on Steve's hip.

Jeff rolled his eyes and then averted them. "He's not affiliated with us."

It took Steve only a couple more tries to hit it dead center and when he did, Eddie kissed him like he was the one that got the target.

"I bet you take all your dates here", Steve said against his lips.

"You're the only one who's opened his eyes to how romantic axe throwing can be."

"So romantic", Steve agreed. "How the axe rushes to be with the wood."

"Mmm, it flies on the wings of love", Eddie added, then kissed Steve again, cradling the back of his head.

Steve's hands went around and stuck themselves in Eddie's back pockets. "Something something wood-splitting penetration." He went back to kissing Eddie and everything else melted away until he felt a finger poking his shoulder.

"Hey, it's your best friend. Would you come up for air for a second?"

With a sigh, Steve pulled away but kept his hold on Eddie who did the same for him. Robin jerked her head very unsubtly towards the bathroom. Steve took his hands out of Eddie's pockets.

"Be right back. Try not to miss me too much."

Steve followed Robin to the bathroom which was definitely a single and not meant for two grown people but they made it work anyway.

"So you and Eddie seem to be hitting it off..."

"He's great, isn't it?" Steve was looking at himself in the mirror. He looked like he'd been kissed a lot. From his lips to his hair it was hard not to see.

"You sure you're not, you know, drowning in him?"

"Is that a bad thing? I was a swim captain in high school, remember?"

"There's a difference between a pool and the ocean and Mr...Mr Bad Boy out there's a whole tempest", Robin said.

"Poetic. Any other warnings?"

"Yes", Robin grabbed him by the shoulders. "Please use a condom, I'm not ready to be an aunt."

"Robin, I gotta be honest...I kind of want to have his baby." Steve opened the door and there was Eddie, waiting for him.

"Almost took too long, sweetheart. I was considering breaking the door down."

"You're ridiculous", Steve said as Eddie took his hand and kissed his knuckles.

"He didn't even wash his hands", Robin said.

"Dirty baby", Eddie murmured.

"Wanna see how dirty I can get?"

Part 9 FINAL

Tag Team (CLOSED)

@anne-bennett-cosplayer @estrellami-1 @newtstabber @omletlove @ifyoudonlysurrender @rehfan @morganski-19 @corvidcantina @dragonmama76 @just-ladyme @tinyplanet95 @goodolefashionedloverboi @idoquitelikebread @kittydeadbones @manda-panda-monium @rhapsodyinalto @paintsplatteredandimperfect @keylime-green @ihavekidneys @samsoble @honorarybrit81 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @aizawa-emma @deleataecount @thesuninyaface @fromapayphone @justmeinadaze @hbyrde36 @queenie-ofthe-void @resident-gay-bitch @bestwifehaver @dangdirtydemons @ellietheasexylibrarian @perseus-notjackson @pyrohonk @holysteddie @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @mrsjellymunson @geekymagicalpotato @notaqueenakhaleesi

#apo writes #stranger things #fanfiction #steddie #stay tuned for if the next part will be the last part

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1000sunnygo · 4 months

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One Piece Academy chapter 41: The Dark Bingo Tournament, part 1 (Quick translation)

The lore deepens..

source | previous chapter | part 2 | index

Cover page side note : Sanji-kun's morning starts with black coffee.

Editor's note: what was discussed while playing trump at the Doflamingo countermeasure headquarters?

Everyone: An undercover investigation?

Cora: Yeah...

Cora: Doffy is supposed to attend a certain meeting tonight. Law and I will have an investigation trip.

Robin: 'A certain'...?

Luffy: ..Party with Mingo? I'm coming as well!!

Nami: They just said it's an investigation!

Law: Outside, it's a Bingo party with the Grand City enterprises.

But in reality... It's a meet-and-greet ceremony with the Dark World's residents.

Chopper: The Dark world... Meaning the bad adults? Er, Eleven-Back...

Robin: Eight-Stop (T/N: these are Daifugou card game terms)

Cora: It's all my intuitive prediction, though.

Doffy got himself his first new suit in a long time. There's something to this...

If they meet, it's possible that he'd sign a contract to become part of the gangs then and there. We have to stop this somehow.

Zoro: What do you mean 'somehow'? You haven't decided what to do yet?

Sanji: You want to stop them without being busted. It ain't a simple task at all.

Vivi: Definitely a high risque plan for high schoolers.... Triple Queen.

Cora: I'm one of the students who is given authority by the country and the school to 'investigate and use force'.

Coby: Something like Student council, or Public morals corps?

Cora: Right... Coby, you were part of the Public morals corps, aren't you.

Nami: Hey, Cora-chan... Was Doflamingo always like this? You've lived with him, haven't you?

Cora:....

Our family, the Donquixote Family "used to be" one of the great families of the world. We brothers were raised by kind hearted mother and father.

Vivi: The Donquixote Family! I've heart bits about it from Papa.

Cora: 'Cause Vivi-chan's Nefertari family is also one of those great families!

Usopp: That sounds like a nice family!

Brook: What do you mean by "used to be?"

Cora: A fall from a prestigious family to rock bottom... That's what I mean.

Father, unfamiliar with business, tried his hand at several private charity projects. Unfortunately, every single one ended in huge failure. Our family lost all its possessions, and we lost our social standing.

Those were terrible days, filled with hunger. There were people who's mock and laugh at us for getting the boot, kicked out of the town.

All of it was probably unbearable for my brother. He developed a deep seated hate towards the townsfolk and father.

Then, Doffy disappeared from the sight of me and family. As years passed on...

Cora: I discovered him in the streets as one of the thugs.

Sanji: I guess, he was royally messed up.

Vivi: So he has a past like this behind that perpetual jolly demeanor...

Chopper: Vivi...

Luffy: Corao, I'm bringing leftover food with me.

Cora: Bring with you? You're going somewhere?

Luffy: Why, at Mingo's party!

(Continues in reblogs) ⬇️

#one piece #one piece academy #sanji #one piece sanji #trafalgar law #trafalgar d. water law #donquixote rosinante #donquixote corazon #donquixote doflamingo #monkey d. luffy #one piece vivi #donquixote homing #roronoa zoro #one piece nami #one piece coby #zoro #nami #coby

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yois2aki · 23 days

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੭୧ if i can't save you... . ۫

chishiya shuntaro x g!n reader

— warnings: fluff, descriptions of typical aib violence, fits both manga and live action, one singular suggestive remark, no use of y/n.

— summary: you arrive from a particularly rough game to an almost empty beach, thankfully there's still a specific doctor awake to treat your wounds.

— word count: 2.4k

your leg barely healed from the last game, and you had to play again already.

it was a wonder why there were so many people left in the borderlands. if it weren't for your high ranking on the beach's hierarchy and the minor hope you had to leave this world once all the cards were collected, you would have probably given up.

it was tiring and stressful. even though so many people were living life as if deathly games weren't waiting for them the next day, you just couldn't brush away the fear of a laser hitting you on the head out of nowhere or waking up with once again new rules to the games.

you waddled to the beach's main hall entrance with the few survivors from the game you played. the three of spades should have been easy, but even you underestimated it, getting scratched violently by a black panther in between. all that mattered was that you were alive, and soon the wound would heal itself like every other did (not really, your leg was full of dried blood, stopping the wounds from opening, but still in critical condition.)

all you had to do was go to your room, take a shower, and go to sleep. there was an executive meeting going on, but you were too unbothered to even care about the hatter's waste of time. you realized everyone you knew would be either sleeping, partying, or at the so-called meeting, which was more of a lecture.

while walking around the hotel rooms, you relished the quietness. it had been a while since you were able to rest, and all you needed was a bed and a pillow to pass out on. that was until a figure in a white jacket showed up in one of the corners of the hall.

"what the-!" you gasped, jumping back at the surprise and placing a hand almost immediately on your chest while trying to catch your breath. dramatic? maybe a little. but you did get scared at his sudden presence.

chishiya stood in place while staring at you. upon regaining your composure, you looked up and noticed he had his signature raised eyebrow look, and you felt the need to explain what went on. "i didn't expect to see you there. aren't you supposed to be at the meeting?"

in reality, you had never been that close to chishiya, apart from the usual small talk due to being both executive members. you had no idea what was going on inside his head at any moment; his expression was definitely unreadable. every time you two were placed together somewhere, the awkwardness made itself present. even if you'd try and engage in a little chat, he'd end it too quickly for you to feel stupid for even trying. if he knew your name, you would be surprised.

instead of answering, chishiya kept silent. usual, you thought to yourself. as your mind ran around looking for ways to end this awkward situation, chishiya's gaze seemed to be elsewhere. your eyes finally met his, but his didn't meet yours. instead, he fixed himself on your legs.

"you're bleeding," he said bluntly.

"oh..." you looked down at your own legs, bending slightly to take a look at the situation. your mouth opened agape once you noticed just how bad your wounds looked.

you didn't realize it the moment you got it, but the scratch from earlier must have messed up with some other of your past injuries, opening both of them up. a trail of blood was running down your legs, and as you glimpsed to the floor, you realized it was also stained by so. for how long has it been like this? you wondered.

"yes, i'll take care of it later..." you mumbled pathetically.

it was quite embarrassing to be in this position, especially in front of chishiya. for some reason, you always messed up your words when talking to him or anyone superior overall. maybe it was because you'd picture a whole dialogue in your mind before speaking, and when actually doing it, words came out messed up and switched.

you finally looked up with the stupidest expression on your face, realizing chishiya's eyebrow had only raised more. you bit your lip in embarrassment as he spoke up again. "if you take care of that the same way you did with your other wounds, you'd be better leaving it how it is."

if you could be more ashamed than you were, you would. perhaps he was just trying to get under your skin, but the only thing you wanted to do was get out of this situation.

you stood there awkwardly as your gaze never met his, unsure of what to say next. instead, he was the one to break the silence.

"follow me." he said after a sigh left his mouth.

and you did exactly so. or at least you tried. you noticed that chishiya didn't even bother to look behind to see if you were actually following, but you also noticed he was moving slower than he usually did, probably because he knew you could barely hold yourself on your own two feet. you weren't even sure how you knew how fast he normally walks.

your thoughts were interrupted as you realized he was actually taking you to his room. you knew this path like the back of your hand since you would always watch where he was going after the executive meetings. this was where you registered that you had been analyzing every single one of chishiya's movements without even knowing it. you probably looked like a creep as soon as you grasped it all.

chishiya opened the door to his room and finally looked at you, as well as at the trail of blood you left behind. something in his gaze — you could not understand what — changed as his movements hurried slightly.

"sit down in a comfortable position," he demanded with a voice that almost seemed caring, pointing to his bed.

you did as asked, although you struggled to be in a pleasant posture due to your legs almost opening apart.

this seemed all too weird to you. the chishiya that barely looked your way for more than five seconds was the same chishiya that was now leaving his suite with a first aid kit, seemingly prepared to treat your wounds without even asking.

"why are you doing this?" you couldn't help but interrogate. his latest actions were way too out of character, at least to the chishiya you made up in your mind.

"i was bored," he replied sarcastically, a tone of irony present in his voice. now this was more like the chishiya you knew, even though it was obvious that wasn't the real motive.

you wanted to keep smothering him with questions because your mind was way too confused to function properly, but your line of thought was put back as you saw him kneel before you and open the box he positioned on the bed. you would have folded and turned into a blushing mess right there and then, if it weren't for the agonizing pain that decided to come back.

you got a quick glimpse of what the box held: gauze roles, sterile gauze pads, eye pads, a roll of adhesive tape, elastic bandages, sterile cotton balls... your head started almost immediately hurting looking at all the utensils that you had barely any idea what did.

"relax. focus on staying awake." chishiya said it with that same voice from way before, tense but almost sweet. he gathered something on one of the cotton pads; you could not figure out what, as your mind almost went blank. "this will hurt."

and as he finished his sentence, not a single second was left for you to process as he started patting your wounds with it. you immediately hissed at the pain, tears threatening to spill from your eyes as you bit into your hand in a way to muffle your whimpers.

your head moved away from the scenario. even though you wanted to keep your eyes on such a focused chishiya, you would have probably passed out from looking at the amount of blood leaving your leg. especially now that, with the alcohol-coated cotton, which you developed a deep hatred for, he had removed the thin layer of dried blood left, securing your wounds.

he moved the piece of pad very quickly around your wounds, removing the blood as fast as he could, probably to make the process faster and less hurtful. the thing is that, if he were more patient, the pain would probably not be half as bad as it is right now. however, you were too dazed to tell him to be more gentle. tears finally ran down your cheeks as you did your best to keep one hand holding you on the bed and the other brushing them away and covering your mouth at the same time.

even through all the pain, your biggest worry was how stupid you probably looked in front of a guy who must have had something to do with the medical department — you assumed by the way he seemed so professional right now.

"calm down. the worst part is almost over." he said, not bothering to look up to guess that you were driving yourself crazy with tears from your whimpers and constant sniffling.

his words managed to comfort you for about 3 seconds, as he finally stopped moving the torturing device on your leg and you opened up your eyes, only to realize he was just picking up another one and coating it with alcohol once again.

before you could even process it, you audibly groaned in disapproval, almost forgetting who was just below you.

he suddenly stopped, his head finally lifting to look at you with that unbothered classical look, his mouth slightly open. you looked at him hesitantly, your eyes still coated with tears and your face somewhat puffy, quickly realizing your mistake.

"would you prefer for me to leave your leg as it is?" he said it with a superior tone. even though the sentence was formed as a question, you could tell he definitely didn't mean it as one. more like a reprimand.

"sorry..." you muttered under your breath, your eyes immediately drifting away from his, trying to avoid getting his confront once more.

he kept his eyes on you for a second before sighing and shaking his head, his attention going back to your leg as he started to move the cotton pad once again. you hissed between your teeth, your hand moving back to your mouth as you closed your eyes as strongly as you could to avoid any tears from spilling.

to your benefit, this part ended quickly as he finally finished cleaning your wounds. you sighed in relief, now only a sharp but endurable pain left on your leg as you finally relaxed your muscles until he spoke up again.

"your injuries aren't that serious. you were lucky you ran onto me." he commented, staring at his newly finished job. so much, it almost made your head hurt. "there is a specific cut that would normally need to be sewn together, though. however, we don't want to hear any more whining tonight, do we?"

his words traveled immediately to your heart, your face heating up for the nth time during this whole interaction, unable to even stare at him.

from this moment on, your mind just went somewhere else as he finished patching up your leg. you couldn't lie and say that by the time he was finished, you didn't feel much fresher and calmer, being able to look at your leg and see it coated in white instead of red.

he finally got up with a sigh and stored everything back into his first aid kit box, entering his suite and placing it back wherever he hid it.

"thank you; sorry if it was an inconvenience," you said in a low voice when he came back. your eyes stuck on your leg, moving it around as if you never had two functional limbs before.

he stared at you, seemingly having fun with your own stuff, with a smirk on his face that, if you had caught onto it, you would have died of embarrassment once again.

"now, be careful not to get wounded like that again." he commented, turning his back to you and moving around the bed, looking for something you didn't pay attention to on one of his shelves. "i might not be as gentle as i was this time."

you were brought back from the moon as he finished his sentence. that was him being gentle? you could practically hear the smirk on his face when he said that, but it still managed to get you thinking. you knew better than to complain, though.

"what were you before coming here?" you remembered wondering a few moments before, due to his skills in treating you. the question came out without thinking twice.

you could hear him stop while looking for whatever it was when you asked that, to which he answered quickly. "i studied medicine. i wasn't a doctor yet, though."

if chishiya could have gotten any hotter to you, he just did. you bit your lip, breaking your process of thinking before your thoughts led you elsewhere.

"that doesn't mean i wasn't smarter than most of the fools that call themselves doctors at the hospital i studied at."

there was that snarky response chishiya was missing, you thought. you turned around to see him, finally realizing that he was actually looking for something between his shirts. you tried to peek into it, but he suddenly pulled something out that looked like a soda can, with a few cables around it. he finally moved closer to you again, handing you the item.

"it's a bomb," he added, as you rolled it around your fingers, trying to figure out how it worked. "so you can be more prepared when playing. make sure not to use it on yourself."

he clearly meant the last part as a joke, but that was something that the percentage of happening wasn't zero, you had to admit. "thanks."

even though chishiya seemed stern, there was something about him that attracted you. and something that made him help you tonight, about which you still weren't sure, happened to make you more confused. you wondered about asking him again, but knowing the littlest bit about him would make you sure that he'd just avoid the question once again. at least your leg was patched up, and you could go to sleep peacefully tonight.

— a/n: aaahh im debuting on this account... hope you guys like this little babble i made a few days ago. aib fever is back and i have a lot to say, might as well spill it out! i will make a masterlist soon enough. feel free to leave requests (if it's working) (╥﹏╥)

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icallhimjoey · 1 year

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Over Now

♥ ♥ rockstar!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: In this sequel to "Only Now", you've moved away from Hawkins and it's something you should've done much sooner. It's the best choice you've made, it all works, until Eddie finds your address and stops by for a visit.

CW / disclaimer: 18+, language, fem!reader, smut, angst

Author’s note: a couple of you found my askbox and talked me into this after i answered an ask about Only Now, and with a little inspiration courtesy of @ghostinthebackofyourhead that kickstarted all of this, we find ourselves here. I hope you enjoy!

Wordcount: 9.6K

(find all four parts of this story here)

You wanted days to speed up. Have the sun travel across the width of the sky faster. Blink your eyes a few times and accidentally have a few hours pass you by entirely without you having noticed. If you could, you’d skip a full year. You envisioned yourself a year from now, and she seemed strong. Twelve months would be plenty of time for her to have gathered up enough strength to arm herself properly. She probably didn’t think about it every day. About him every day. She was probably happy. Strong, and successful and happy. You wished every day for time fast forward, just so you’d get to meet her sooner.

"You should leave," you whispered into the dark, hearing the city wake up outside of your windows, the hustle and bustle slowly picking up.

"Not yet," Eddie stated it so matter of factly that you didn't even feel like you could fight it. If Eddie decided to stay, you both knew he was going to stay. Eddie knew it was what you wanted, and Eddie knew you wouldn't fight him on it. But you had to be strong. Find the strength somewhere. Somehow.

At New Year's Eve, a couple of weeks after Eddie had left you with a little note that read "Merry Christmas x", you were doing a round of sharing your resolutions for the next year. You had decided yours on the spot and had blurted it out without having given it much thought.

"I'm going to move out of Hawkins."

And everyone had looked at you like it was the wildest thing they'd ever heard, laughed at you as if you were joking, like they had done when Dustin said he was going to start going to the gym. Not Steve though. Steve had hooked an arm around your neck, pulled you in so he could speak directly into your ear and said, "Coolest resolution of the bunch."

What Steve hadn't anticipated is that a mere two, two and a half weeks later, he'd be stood outside of the apartment building you used to share, ready to say goodbye and wave you off. You'd packed up all your belongings into your shitty car and were ready to get out of Hawins. Just, leave. For ever? Never to return? You weren't sure. You'd see.

“I know you have to leave, but, if you really think about it, what’s another week?” Steve tried, leaning his elbows in your open car window. It was too cold for it to be rolled all the way down, mid-January the temperatures were freezing, but you had something to say to Steve still, and you wouldn’t leave before you’d said it. Could you have told him inside? Absolutely. But it would’ve postponed your plans, and you had procrastinated enough. Years, if you really thought about it. You should've gotten out when Nancy and Jonathan had done, but, you know, you clearly hadn't.

“Shut up,” you completely dismissed Steve’s attempt at another week with you in Hawkins and he let his head drop in defeat.

“I need to say things to you,” you said, and Steve was quick to whip his head back up. You kept your engine running but slumped your shoulders and let your hands fall into your lap as you gave him a little pout.

“No, don’t,” Steve warned you.

“I have to,” you took a deep breath, and before Steve could block his ears with his fingers, you got the words out fast. “I don’t deserve you, you are by far the best friend, too good for this world, I can’t believe I’m leaving you behind- I love you!” all your words blended and built up in volume until you were practically screaming. They weren’t the words Steve was expecting, so when he lowered his arms, you snuck them in real fast: “Please come with me!”

“No!” Steve was too late; the words found his ears without any obstruction, and he waved his arms in frustration as he turned away from your car.

Your play back and forth of you begging Steve to join you, and him very actively avoiding every single talk you tried to have with him about it, had been going since the start. Ever since you dropped the comment that you should probably just get out of Hawkins all together, you’d been saying you should both go. He had threatened you at the start, “Careful, or I’ll do it!”, thinking it would make you stop the bit, but knowing there was a slight chance he’d actually consider it only made you press it more.

Steve took a few steps, circled back to your car, and pretended he was about to take a dive across you, aiming for your passenger seat. Just for a second, you thought he was actually going to go for it, and it made you squeal in panic filled laughter. Instead, Steve just leant through your window, found your shoulders with both his hands, and pulled you in for the most awkward hug.

“I’ll come visit soon,”

“Promise?”

“Of course, idiot.” Steve’s grip tightened. “I promise.”

A fresh start. New beginnings. New surroundings. It was what your mother said you’d needed for years. It was what Steve was hellbent on you getting for years.

You’d done enough scooping of popcorn into buckets at the movie theater, only to sweep up half of it two hours later from under the seats – a dead end job, but easy money made. Enough to pay rent, have a little fun and even save up a little.

You’d saved up enough to get yourself through two months of rent in the city, no problem. The urge to immediately find work wasn’t there, but when you moved into your new, much smaller, apartment above a bar that had a sign in the window that read BAR STAFF WANTED you thought, "Perfect.".

It was late February when Steve got word that Eddie was coming back into town. That’s soon, Steve thought. Usually, Eddie would leave much longer periods in between visits. Maybe they were playing somewhere close, and Eddie would just pop down for the day, he thought, secretly pleased that you’d decided to move away when you did.

Eddie didn’t even seem fazed when he walked up to greet Steve. Didn’t look around. Didn’t do a double take. And then, didn’t even ask, but just smiled and hugged Steve, patted him on the back and followed him inside.

Small talk.

Steve was astounded by the surface level of small talk Eddie made. Has the weather been good? Munson, it’s February. Of course not. It’s been grey skies and wet cold. Has he also been sick? Wayne told him a bug had half of Hawkins knocked out a couple weeks ago. Steve had a cough for a few days but was fine otherwise. Got all his fingers still? Eddie knew Steve liked lighting fireworks with Dustin, Mike, the others, anyone who would still come back from college, from jobs, had time to visit family over New Year’s Eve. Steve showed him all ten.

Then Eddie started talking about tour. The band. The gigs. The crowds. Steve loved Eddie’s stories, could honestly listen to him for hours, but he couldn't give him his full attention. Steve was listening to Eddie through your ears. Watching him through your eyes. It was like everything had to pass through a filter of you before it reached Steve, and it slowly built annoyance.

The last time Steve and Eddie had spoken, just the two of them, had been on the ice. When Lover's Lake had frozen over, Robin had taken you on a slippery, scary ride as she had run off with you and he'd stopped Eddie to ask him, was he even really aware of it? Of what he was doing? Did he ever stop to think what his behavior meant for you? Eddie hadn't appreciated Steve placing full blame with him; what Eddie's behavior meant for you. Not, what you were doing to Eddie.

Steve had told him to at least be mindful. When Eddie had scoffed, had said that he was being mindful, Steve revealed how a couple of months ago he had sat outside of your locked bathroom for hours. Listened to you cry silently in between echoing spasmed breaths and sobs. "Don't put her through that again, man." Steve's eyes shone with sadness. It annoyed Eddie greatly as he watched you and Robin laughing together, holding hands as you carefully made your way back to them over the ice.

Eddie didn't think he was doing anything to you. He was just being nice, wasn't he? Would hold you while you slept. Said nice things into your hair. Held your hand on walks. Squeezed your thighs underneath tables. Kissed you on the couch. These were all nice things; things you wanted, things you didn't shy away from, things you happily accepted from him. This is how you were together. Frankly, how you'd always been together. How much worse would it be if he didn't do any of those things at all? If he grew distant all of the sudden? If he just... stopped?

"Be mindful, s'all." Steve said just before you slid back into earshot.

And Eddie had tried for like, an hour maybe. Steve was a good friend and had come to him with difficult things to say, so Eddie tried. Even if he didn't like it. Eddie tried. Kept a little more distance. Didn't sling an arm around you as you walked back to Robin's car together. Called shot gun so he didn't have to share the backseat with you. Didn't use pet names. Didn't look at you and smiled until his eyes crinkled. And then they'd all felt it. They had all seen your angry glances at Steve. Had felt the mood shift. Had felt the sudden tension in the air. Had felt your complete rejection of whatever it was that Steve wanted for you. He wasn't meant to interfere like that, you thought. So when you'd reached for Eddie's hand when you'd gotten out of the car, Eddie had looked at Steve. Told him, I'm not doing anything, with his eyes. It's her.

So Steve was glad you weren't there. But Steve was annoyed that Eddie didn't even acknowledge that.

"You staying over at Wayne's?" Steve asked once Eddie let a silence fall. Eddie never stayed at Wayne's on his visits, but without prospect of staying over at your place, Steve thought he kind of had to.

"I guess," Eddie shrugged.

Steve waited. Still nothing.

"Speaking of, I should probably head over and go see my old man." Eddie spoke through a stretch, arms all up in the air, fingers interlocked, palms out. Then he sighed deeply and got up, went to get his coat from the hallway as Steve moved their used glasses to the kitchen. "Promised he'd make me more meatloaf since I didn't get to take any with me last time," Eddie joked halfheartedly and smiled at Steve when Steve met him in the hallway. Perfect moment to mention you, Steve thought. Yet still, nothing.

Steve followed Eddie on his way out, then decided he couldn't let Eddie just leave like that. Couldn't let him walk out after pretending you weren’t one third of their- your whole. Steve and Eddie had never been just two. Ever since they'd gotten closer as friends, you'd gotten closer in friends together. The three of you. Joined at the hip. Morning, noon and evening. Sun, wind and rain. Birth, life and death. Past, present and future.

"No? Nothing?"

"Huh?"

"You're not going to ask why she's not here? Come on, man…" Steve said, hoping Eddie would let his guard down, not pull it up more.

Eddie turned his head away, looking down the long corridor of apartment doors, hands in the pockets of his leather coat. Then he clicked his tongue and looked back at his friend in the door opening. "What's there to ask?" Eddie asked disdainfully, flicking his eyes down to Steve’s shoes and back up real quick.

Steve loved Eddie, really missed his friend all the time, and maybe even more so now you had moved away too, but this wasn't cool. Eddie didn't need to be so arrogant, act all haughty around him. They were friends. Two legs of this tripod they formed with you. Acting like you weren’t in the slightest bit important, weren’t an inherent part of them, vested in everything they were and weren’t together wasn’t okay.

Steve pushed his chin up, made his lips disappear and gave a small nod. "Say hi to Wayne for me." and closed the door on him. Eddie could go fuck himself.

When Eddie stepped into the trailer without knocking, Wayne took one look at him and told Eddie to walk back out. Eddie sighed loudly. Wayne used to do this all the time if Eddie came walking in like he owned the place. It would often happen when Wayne had worked double shifts and had left Eddie alone for too long. Wayne would make Eddie walk out and come back in, almost as if he was a polite guest, visiting his uncle for a special occasion. Put him in his place a little. Feel that, even if he was the one with his own bedroom between the two, the trailer was still Wayne's home first.

Eddie knew better than to not do as he was told by Wayne, famous rockstar or not, and stepped back out. He took a second, hand on the door handle still, and then he knocked and waited for Wayne to answer.

"Jus' a second," Wayne's low voice gruntled from behind the door, and Eddie huffed a laugh through his nostrils. Fucker was going to make him wait out in the cold, too.

When Wayne opened the door for Eddie, they grinned at each other and hugged.

"Come on, boy. Eat."

Eddie had been pushing the same bite of meatloaf around his plate for ten minutes, then sighed deeply and explained why he was going to have to stay over on the couch in the trailer that night.

"That why you ain't eatin'?"

Eddie shrugged, mentioned how Steve seemed upset with him about something too, not elaborating on why exactly that was. Wayne didn't push it, and instead focussed on the note Eddie showed him.

"And now she lives in the big city, huh?" Wayne said, reading the address.

"Seems like it," Eddie held the note in between his fingers, like he would hold a cigarette and stared at Steve's handwriting.

"Didn't tell you?" Wayne shoved his empty plate towards Eddie a little, signaling it was Eddie who was going to be doing the washing up. Eddie didn't fight him on it; Wayne cooked, so it was only fair Eddie did the dishes. Picking up the plates, his own barely touched, Eddie shook his head a little at Wayne's question.

"Didn't need to, it's her own life, isn't it? Makes her own choices," Eddie reasoned for himself. He hadn't told you about all the places he'd stayed at to write, to record, to rehearse and to play. Why should you have to?

It would have been nice for Eddie to have known, don't get him wrong. He probably wouldn't have come back to Hawkins so soon had he known you weren't there anymore.

"I never understood it," Wayne sighed, sitting back in his seat as he placed his hands behind his head, elbows sticking out wide. "You kids, not goin' together but holdin' hands all the time anyway," Wayne frowned and shook his head a little.

Wayne knew you and Eddie far surpassed innocent hand holding - walls were thin in his trailer - but hand holding was all the two of you had done openly in front of him. Everything else Wayne had caught, he'd pretended not to have seen or to have heard.

"Nothing to understand," Eddie shrugged.

"And she's not goin' with Steve either?"

"No," Eddie snorted, absolutely unable to even think of you and Steve as a couple.

"Hand me that towel," Wayne joined Eddie in the kitchen.

This was nice, Eddie thought. Just chatting with Wayne, in the trailer, hands busy with an easy task. Just the two of them, like old times. It didn't have the same effect as hanging out with you and Steve had on him, though. But it was nice anyway.

"Wouldn't have time for it anyway, would you?" Wayne said. "Not with all them girls waitin' outside after your concerts," There was a moment of eye contact where Eddie had expected a sly smile from Wayne, something a little playful, but was met with a set of stern eyes instead.

"I better not be hearin' bad things, Eddie," Wayne warned, and Eddie immediately took it to mean something malicious. Like Eddie was taking advantage of every single person that showed him any form of interest. Like it was Eddie’s fault that the band had groupies.

"What do you take me for?" Eddie mentally placed his foot against the gas pedal, ready to absolutely floor it if Wayne was going to say something else he didn't like.

"Don't forget who raised you, now," Wayne stayed calm, his voice not changing tone.

"Are you accusing me of something?" Eddie accelerated.

"Just makin' sure no one has reason to,"

Eddie just looked at Wayne a second before he contorted his face and threw the sponge he'd been scrubbing pots with loudly against the tiles behind the sink. The wet slap was loud and splashed dish soap suds onto dishes Wayne had already dried but had yet to put away. He silently watched his nephew grab his coat, feel around pockets for a packet of cigarettes and step out.

Had Eddie been 16 still, he'd have slammed the door.

Wayne wasn't stupid. He'd seen things on MTV, saw pictures in the magazines and, sometimes, if they were particularly bad, the newspapers. He'd even seen some girls with his own eyes when he'd been to see Eddie 'n the boys play when they'd been close enough for Eddie to put Wayne up on the guest list. He had never seen Eddie give them any real attention, but Wayne knew his nephew.

Eddie just needed to be mindful. Tha's all.

That night, Eddie and Wayne had gone to bed in silence. Eddie had refused to say another word, even when Wayne had sat down in his armchair and had put the TV on. Eddie was all passive aggression, rumbling stomach only adding fuel, and Wayne knew to keep quiet until Eddie would break, say something stupid, something that crossed a line, immediately apologise and then they'd be able to talk everything through. Old routines died hard. That, or Eddie would crack because he had to have been hungry, still.

Before bed, Wayne had placed bedding and one of the better pillows onto the couch next to Eddie before retreating to his own bedroom. Eddie's old bedroom. When Wayne had closed the door behind him, Eddie had looked at it and wished it was his bedroom still. With the same old posters still up, his favourite guitar on the wall and all his other stupid shit strewn around, messing the place up. Making it all his. His own little safe space where everything was so very his. Eddie almost resented his uncle for not leaving it the way it was back then, but knew that would've made no sense.

Eddie found himself on the couch, hours later, middle of the night, not being able to sleep at all. The blinking streetlight from out front illuminated the note Eddie held in his hand in flashes.

Should he just... call?

Could he? He couldn't remember the last time he talked to you over the phone. You never called each other. Not that you'd be able to reach Eddie anywhere - he was always on the move.

You hadn't mentioned moving out of Hawkins the last time you'd seen each other. Maybe he wasn't meant to know. Or maybe, you'd tell him later. Once you'd settled. You couldn't have been gone that long, could you?

Eddie didn't manage to stay until the morning. When Wayne woke up and went to find his nephew to talk things through over breakfast, he was met with an empty trailer. Eddie had left the sheets folded nicely up on the couch, and had left his uncle a little note on top.

"I'm sorry. Took the leftover meatloaf x"

It was busy at the bar. Too busy. It was Thursday, and Thursdays were never this busy. The band playing had done a little promotion beforehand, and clearly, it paid off. You were sure lots of them were friends and family, but you eyed some curious anticipation from what you assumed were strangers too.

It was busy, but work was fun. It was just you and your immediate boss behind the bar together, and you wanted to impress, still. Be quick on your feet. Get lots of tips for the two of you to share later. You'd only worked there for about a month, but you'd learned fast. And it was fun because you seemed to really have a good routine down. There was no bumping into each other - if you were about to reach for a glass, he'd have it ready for you, and if you heard someone order drink from a bottle closer to you, you'd hand it over before he could even ask. Work was busy, hectic, and chaotic, but it was fun.

Most people drank beer. Some would order whiskey. Very, very rarely, someone would ask for something else. You'd barely touched the vast array of liquor bottles that decorated the wall behind the bar. So when someone ordered anything you'd not poured before, your boss would help you, show you once, then keep an eye the very next time you'd do it yourself. But most people drank beer, so you'd gotten used to asking which kind, almost on autopilot, and would point at the different taps with questioning eyes. Until someone didn't ask for a beer, and threw you for a loop.

"Jack and coke, please?"

You heard him before you saw him. The visceral reaction within your body was unreal. Unfair. Maddening, too.

You thought you had it all under full control. You had it all tucked away, squeezed into a small cage, locked up behind bars, keys thrown away far into Lake Michigan, never to be seen again. You'd been so good. Would sometimes go days without thinking of him. Became an expert in occupying yourself, and it really helped that none of your surroundings were reminders here. You had all of his things hidden away in a shoebox, placed it deep into your wardrobe, underneath and behind other items, and you'd tried to do the same with all the memories inside your head. Found a shoebox in there too, placed every single little thing you'd come across into this box and would store it away, somewhere near the back of your head, close to the top of your cervical spine.

And it had worked. You'd done so well.

But the sheer sight of him... the first little glimpse you caught after hearing that voice... It broke that cage wide open. Bars snapped in half, brick walls crumbled down and your heart was free. Free at last. Beating fiercely, almost painfully fast inside your chest. It got to swell again. Gave itself more wiggle room. Grew three sizes and pressed tightly against your lungs which made it hard to breathe. It hurt, but it hurt so good.

Eddie was here.

Have you ever felt your brain short-circuit in real time? Felt fires start from sparks too big upon the sight of someone's smile?

"What... how did you..." There were no full thoughts, and you had no possible way of verbalizing anything coherent in the moment.

"Steve," Eddie shouted over the music.

Your eyes grew, doubled in size. Never. Eddie was lying. Steve would never. Eddie could see your disbelief, your disgust at Eddie placing blame with your mutual friend and knew he had to explain.

"I saw..." Eddie sighed deeply, both hands placed on the bar as he leant forward, eyes closed, about to disclose information he wasn't proud of. "There was a note, with your new phone number and your address. He left it on the side, and I couldn't..." Eddie reached into a pocket, pulled it out and showed you Steve’s handwriting.

"You took it?"

"Don't worry, you know Harrington, he's got it memorized by now."

Like Steve being unable to reach you was the problem here.

"Eddie Munson?" someone tapped his shoulder, recognized him, went in for a hug immediately. "Told you it was him!" you heard someone else call out from the other side. "Eddie!"

Too many things were happening at once and you were unable to process any of them. Eddie was here, under questionable circumstances, and you didn't even have the time to be angry with him, because you were at work. You were at work, and it had been going so smoothly. You'd been on a roll, absolutely in it, you and your boss fully attuned to each other. Eddie ruined it, fucked it all up, but you had to get back to it. There were people waiting, drinks to be served, tips to be collected. But you were kind of... frozen. Almost nonresponsive.

You could only give Eddie confused eyes. Judgmental eyes. What the fuck are you doing here eyes. Came to mess up my life again huh eyes. But mostly, your eyes just held a lot of bewilderment and simple shock. Uncomplicated. Things anybody could read.

An arm holding a drink came into your vision from your left, and your boss placed down Eddie's jack and coke in front of him. A little dazed, you looked at your boss, who gave you a look, eyebrows raised high, not in question, but in let's get back to work, all right.

You looked at the man next to Eddie, who searched for your attention with a hand, was holding money and pointed at the beer tap before holding up two fingers.

"Coming right up," you snapped back into work-mode and smiled. You had to get back to work and pretend Eddie wasn't there. It was too busy at the bar not to. So, you ignored him, tried your best to not let your eyes find him, and focused on the work at hand. Work was busy, and it was fun, you sternly told yourself.

After a while, when the band was done playing, the bar started to feel more like a regular old Thursday inside. There was still enough work to be done, but nothing that overwhelmed you.

“Dude's still here, that okay?” Your boss eyed Eddie who was stood talking to two of the bandmembers. They seemed excited Eddie had seen their set.

You already knew Eddie was still there. You'd watched him all night. Corner of your eye. Peripheral vision. Like your body knew there was danger lurking, and you couldn't not keep an eye out for him.

“I'm working,” you shrugged. “If he wants to talk, he can wait.”

And you silently and secretly wished that he did. Fucking Eddie. What the fuck did he want? You’d last seen him in December, which for Eddie’s terms must have felt like just a week ago. Why had he been over at Steve’s?

“Is um… is he who I think he is?” your boss carefully followed up, making drinks right next to you as you kept busy rinsing glasses.

You gave a small smirk, but didn't answer, kept your eyes down. Eddie had been the talk of the night, obviously your boss knew the dude that seemed to be waiting your shift out was Eddie Munson of Corroded Coffin fame. But the way the two of you had interacted, before the murmur of people whispering his name had started, told your boss you weren’t just shocked to see him because he was Eddie Munson. No, you knew each other. There was some sort of history there, he could sense it, and he silently commended you for only letting some of it show for half a second. The rest of the night you’d been perfect bar staff. No regrets in hiring you.

"Could you... do you think you could get Corroded Coffin to come play a little gig here?" your boss joked, and you couldn't help but huff a laugh through your nose. "Give us a little show? No?" you got a nudge in the shoulder and a playful smile when you looked at him.

"I'll ask, but I can’t make any promises," you said, making your boss laugh loudly. Corroded Coffin played huge venues, had insane mosh pits, full light shows with smoke and pyrotechnics. The bar you worked at fit the genre, sure, but was small. Tiny. They would tear the place down, and if not the band themselves, then definitely the people coming to see them.

“Let me know if I need to kick him out, because I’ll do it. Don’t care what name he carries.” And with that, your boss picked up drinks to carry over to the other side of the bar to whoever ordered them. You silently berated yourself for having waited so long to move to the city. People were nice here. What had held you back so long? The second you thought it, you hated that the answer to that question sat down on a barstool right in front of you.

“So when does your shift end?”

You were prepared for questions from Eddie. All throughout the evening you'd thought about what things you would tell him. What things you’d be honest and up front about, and what things you’d avoid telling him. You didn't owe him anything, but you imagined Eddie had questions anyway.

What you weren't prepared for was the magnetic pulling you felt in your stomach when you saw Eddie standing in the middle of your small, new apartment.

What you weren't prepared for was Eddie kneeling down in front of you as you'd sat down on your couch to take your shoes off.

What you weren't prepared for were Eddie's hands that found the outside of your thighs and used his fingernails to slowly scratch up and down the sides of them slowly as Eddie leant back on his heels.

You kind of couldn't really do anything but watch his hands move slowly along your legs and your breath shuddered as you felt your ribcage expand and tighten simultaneously. You frowned when you recognized where you were emotionally. You were in your bed, in your old apartment still, and had just found that stupid fucking note Eddie left on his pillow. You were back in December in the exact moment where all you could feel was loneliness and the strongest yearning you'd ever felt for Eddie.

And now, Eddie was here.

"Eddie,"

Your eyes locked, but what were you going to follow up with? Ask him why he was there? Ask him why he had visited Hawkins so soon after his last visit? Why he'd taken that note with your details from Steve's place? Were you going to tell him about why you'd left? Tell him about those days after he'd left without saying goodbye, again? You didn't really want to do any of those things. Because Eddie was touching you, and you kind of didn't want him to stop.

You hesitated for too long and saw Eddie's dark eyes move between yours before he sat up on his knees and moved in close. Close enough for your noses to touch, to dance around each other for a brief moment, to move like you were kissing. Close enough for your breath to hitch, throat working, as you saw Eddie's eyes roam your face.

"Can I kiss you?"

Eddie had never asked permission like that before, and you didn't need asking twice.

You only needed to tilt your head a little for your lips to touch, and it could've been soft, and slow, but it was none of the sort. You smashed yourself into Eddie, held onto him, arms winding tightly around his neck to pull him into you and keep him there. You kept feeding pressure as your faces swirled, tongues exploring each other, making sure they recognized each other still. You had to feel as much of Eddie as you could to make sure he was really there. That he was real.

Eddie kissed you back just has fervorous, like he was surprised that you'd granted him permission for it. Like he thought that maybe he had asked a question you would've easily said no to.

Thinking back to what Steve had said, he wouldn't have been surprised if you did.

You kissed each other, inhaled each other and tasted each other until Eddie suddenly noticed how your breathing grew erratic at an alarmingly rapid rate. Your hands started clambering behind his head, then on his back, your touches increasing in desperation. Your lips pressed against his hard and it started to become uncomfortable. Eddie reached for your hands in a bid to loosen your grip and broke your kiss.

"Hey,"

Eddie tried for eye contact, to see if you were okay, but you were quick to dig your face into the crook of his neck, escaped into his hair, and hooked your arms under his to tightly squeeze him. Your pressed your chests together and hugged Eddie tensely. You hugged him like you'd never let him go, clung to him like you were scared he'd get up and walk out, your chest heaving heavily still.

"Hey, are you–" Eddie stopped talking when a sob escaped you and he felt your body shake against his. It startled him for a moment, but it only took a second for him to hug you back.

Emotionally, you were there, in your old bedroom still, alone, blinking tears from your eyes at that stupid note Eddie left on your pillow. Eddie had walked out and hadn't even said goodbye.

"Shh, it's okay," Eddie turned soft, found the back of your head to caress and gently stroked his other hand up and down your back.

You cried, and Eddie was gentle. You cried over Eddie, because of Eddie, and let Eddie comfort you. It was an agonizing loop you found yourself in, realized you'd been in, that somehow also felt like it spiraled down with the weight of everything growing heavier each time. You'd be pushed further down each time. You'd have to rise up higher each time, gain new unprecedented levels of strength each time. It had only been a few weeks, and you hadn't even properly began the painstaking process of putting yourself back together again since you'd last seen Eddie. You had just ran from it. Hid from it.

But now, Eddie was here. He had left you alone in your bed a few weeks ago, but now, he was here.

"You always leave," you spoke through broken sobs, letting out the words you felt were hurting your heart from the inside out.

"I'm here," Eddie softly reassured, his voice kind, but flat, almost void of feeling. "I'm here."

You heard it – lies – and knew he emotionally wasn't here at all, but you could pretend he was. Needed to pretend he was. You could feel him, smell him, taste him and could pretend he was here, just like he said he was.

"Do you want to go lay down?" Eddie whispered after a little while. You had calmed down, but were holding on still, and he'd been sat on his knees in front of your couch too long.

Eddie felt you nod your head on top of his shoulder, and you expected him to move back, away from you, in order to stand up. Instead, Eddie moved your legs to hook around his waist, said, "Hold on tight," before gripping onto your waist and hoisting you up from the couch as you clung onto him.

Lowering you down onto the bed, Eddie got a look at your face and saw the mascara streaks he'd been responsible for. When he wiped a thumb across one, you realised what he was doing and were quick to wipe at your own face with your hands. You were sure that whatever Eddie was looking at, wasn't very charming.

But then Eddie grabbed onto both your wrists, stilled your hands and moved them away slowly. Replaced them with his own. It felt like the least thing he could do, to slightly make it better a little. He licked one of his thumbs like your mother used to do, and used soft strokes to wipe the make-up stains away as you stared up at him. Eddie's touch was careful and tender, and you melted under it, relaxing deeper into your bed.

Eddie didn't have mascara splotches to wipe at, but you wanted to touch his face in the same ways he was touching yours. You reached up, cupped his cheeks, rubbed a thumb along a line in his face and got a smile out of him. Eddie moved his head, kissed one of your palms, then straightened up and looked at your jeans.

"Can I take these off?"

What was with all the asking for permission? It was new. You didn't mind it, but it was... different. You nodded and let Eddie undress you.

He removed your jeans, your socks, your top, your bra too, and you waited for his roaming hands. Waited for his touches, his squeezes, for Eddie to grab at you, with soft or harsh fingers – you didn't care.

Eddie then removed his own T-shirt, and instead of discarding it onto the floor with the rest of your clothing items, he moved it around in his hands, found the neckline and said, "Sit up a little." before helping you put it on.

Eddie dressed you in his own T-shirt, the one he'd worn all day and overwhelmed your senses with all things Eddie. It was the smoothest of moves that caught you entirely off guard, and you had to take the deepest of breaths to not burst into tears again.

When Eddie slipped into bed in just his boxers next to you, you noticed that you were secretly pleased that he hadn't latched onto you the second he'd seen you naked. This was much nicer. Eddie was about to get comfortable on his back, was about to pull you in for cuddles, but you stopped him.

"Lay on top of me,"

Eddie froze a second, covers held up in his hand, facial expression a little confused.

"I want to feel you on me," you felt raw and vulnerable, all up in your emotions and had shared them with him too. There was no use in hiding what you wanted from him now.

"Yea. Yea, okay." and Eddie scooted down a little, found your chest with his head and carefully relaxed until you were pressed down into the mattress by his full body weight.

Eddie listened to your heartbeat, felt himself rise and fall with your breaths and dozed off the very second he knew that you'd fallen asleep as well.

You woke up in the middle of the night when you felt Eddie roll off of you, to get more comfortable, you imagined. He laid down next to you and the loss of his warmth, his weight and his contact made your hand search for his so you at least had something, still. You were needy and clingy and knew it was unattractive and overbearing, but you didn't care. When you found his hand and interlaced your fingers with his, your felt him squeeze a few times which was enough reassurance for you to drift off again.

Eddie woke you up in the morning by placing a hot mug of coffee on your bedside table.

"Morning," Eddie sat down next to you on the bed and leant over you, one arm planted either side of you. He bent over for a kiss, and you groaned, "morning breath," and tried to avoid him getting too close. But Eddie was Eddie, and he held your face to kiss you anyway.

"Couldn't," another kiss, "care," more, "less." and then deeper too. Until Eddie murmured, "You're out of breakfast," and you groaned loudly as you squeezed your eyes shut tightly.

"Yea, I need to get groceries."

"So let's go have breakfast somewhere and get you some groceries."

You still didn't know why Eddie came to visit you. Why he had been in Hawkins, why he'd been over at Steve's. But Eddie sort of behaved in the same way he always did and you were about to plummet into domestic bliss together which you enjoyed far too much to confront him now. You'd get the answers to your questions later.

You found a little cafe to have breakfast at and sat by the window. You let Eddie choose your breakfast from the menu for you, but only because you had just told the waitress what Eddie was going to get. When your plates were put down in front of you, you both looked at the food, then at each other and both reached to switch meals because you'd chosen for each other what you really wanted to have yourselves. It was stupid and it turned you into grinning idiots, sharing dopey smiles as you ate. You missed Steve a little, thought he would have probably made some golden side comments had he been there, but you didn't mention it. Afraid it would ruin whatever it was that you and Eddie had going. Out of the confinements Hawkins held for you, where people had fully formed ideas of who you were as a person, and who you and Eddie were as friends, you got to just be... be yourselves, more. Be a little more coupley, without familiar judging eyes or the feeling you were going to have to explain to someone later that, no, you weren't actually dating, this was just what you were like.

Now, this was just who you got to be, almost without repercussions, and it made you want to up the level of it. Be a bit more of it.

And Eddie let you.

In the supermarket you noticed how flashy Eddie looked compared to every single other person in there. You realised that, when in Hawkins, Eddie definitely toned down this whole look he had created for himself. In Hawkins, Eddie was more the Eddie he'd been in high school, which, for small town terms, was pretty out there already anyway. But here, away from home and away the people that would still probably treat him as the town's freak, Eddie let some of his stage persona shine through in his outfit. Kind of made you feel a little underdressed, almost. He looked more confident, a little more removed from you, and sure, he looked very sexy, but it wasn't Eddie Eddie.

"What's chelse?" Eddie said, squinting at your shopping list. "Is this something fancy we don't have in Hawkins? That us simpletons have never heard of?" Eddie acted like he was the one stuck in Hawkins still, and that you were the one with a broadened worldview. Very obviously, that was clearly the other way around.

"Shut up, idiot. That says cheese."

"Excuse me, where do you keep your fancy chelse?" Eddie asked a teenager stacking shelves whose eyes grew with recognition for him.

"Oh my God, Eddie," you hissed under your breath, but couldn't withhold your giggles as you pulled Eddie along on your way to find some regular cheese.

Back in your apartment, Eddie started putting food away in all the wrong places, so as he placed items into random cupboards, you stood next to him and reorganized everything without saying anything. You just smiled, and when you snuck a look at Eddie, saw that he'd seen what you were doing, because he then placed bananas in the oven and a packet of uncooked spaghetti in the fridge. You were being dumb smiley idiots together and it was so cute, you imagined how Steve would say something along the lines of, "Well, at least you think this is fun." and he'd be so totally right.

"I start work soon," you said after letting yourself fall onto your couch, like you'd just ran a marathon.

Eddie copied you, hair flying as he landed against the backrest, sighing dramatically. Made you laugh.

"You can come sit at the bar, or... I don't know, stay up here, see what's on TV," you didn't want Eddie to leave, yet. You held out a hand and Eddie took hold of you, swinging your arms back and forth playfully.

"I'll have a shower, then call China... see what they have going on," Eddie joked.

"I'll send you the phone bill, so make every minute count," you joked right back, happy Eddie hadn't mentioned anything about needing to leave, about needing to get back to the band. It irked you a little too, unexpectedly, because you still didn't know why Eddie was here.

"What?" Eddie saw you frown as you looked at your hands that were still sort of moving around, drawing shapes in the space between you from your swirling elbows. You decided you were just going to be up front and ask the exact question on your mind.

"Why are you here?"

A beat.

"What made you come visit me?"

You turned to look at Eddie, who was staring at your hands just as you'd been doing.

"You weren't in Hawkins," Eddie shrugged and looked you in the eye briefly.

Your frown deepened, because that wasn't really an answer. It didn't explain anything, but just left you to put dots in places in order to connect them yourself. A dangerous game, because what if you put the dots in the wrong places and made the wrong connections?

"Missed ya," Eddie followed up, said it nonchalantly, Wayne's words echoing in his mind. He moved the hand he was holding up to his mouth to kiss it, easing the crease between your brows slightly.

No word on why he'd been back so soon. No word on what happened at Steve's for him to need to steal a note that held your details. You could imagine, sure, but those could be the wrong dots, and Eddie not elaborating only made you feel like he didn't want to talk about it. So, you didn't press it further, even though you really wanted to.

"Why did you let me in?" Eddie asked.

Oof.

You thought of all the cells in your body that all called out to Eddie at every second of every minute of every hour of every day, and about how having Eddie with you silenced all of them.

"Could hardly turn you away, could I? Leave you out in the cold?"

It was just as much of a non-answer as you'd gotten from him, and Eddie tutted, just about scoffed at you and you saw his brow furrow. You didn't take offense immediately, but were very ready to step into that box if Eddie didn't guide you away from it.

"Why do you... why are you doing this to yourself?"

Eddie instead pushed you straight into it.

"Excuse me?" you couldn't quite believe what you were hearing.

Eddie sat up, let go of your hand, used the both of his to rub his face and then turned his head a little to look at you.

"If it hurts you so much," Eddie started, but you weren't going to let him finish that sentence.

"Me?!"

Eddie just stared, blank faced.

"I'm the one who's doing this?" you challenged him.

"I mean–" Eddie raised his eyebrows and you knew he was going to have several examples ready to throw into your face. You very much didn't need to hear them.

"Why do you think I moved here, Eddie? Why I got the fuck out of Hawkins?"

Eddie just looked at you, and you could almost hear him think "you ran away", and you could feel the stinging of upcoming tears behind your eyes. The frustration of how easily emotion got hold of you again only angered you more, triggering the waterworks even more. You weren't strong enough yet. It hadn't been long enough since you'd last seen Eddie, and now here you were, a weak mess of a girl, about to drive away the person you wanted to keep close the most.

"I can't run away from myself… I can't run away from my past, from my actions, from choices I've made..." you had been able to run away from Hawkins, and so, that was what you'd done. It just hadn't worked as well as you would've hoped, and you realised it didn't work at all now that Eddie was here.

"You did… run away, I mean, didn’t you?"

Eddie said it with so much disdain, like it was the most cowardly thing you could've ever done. Like moving out of Hawkins was the absolute worst possible thing a person could ever do in their lifetime. Like you were faint-hearted. Weak. Spineless.

"You don’t get it." You got up to find the shoes you'd taken off earlier, wiping your hands harshly across your face to rid yourself of tears, annoyed that none of this seemed to touch Eddie at all. "Physically I had to," that was easier to say with you back towards Eddie, who was still sat on your couch. "But you think I can escape my own mind, Eddie? I’m in there, 24/7 - you are in there. It’s all the time, never ending, just... always there. How do I… how am I supposed to…" you started stumbling over words as your lips trembled, starting new sentences before ending the previous ones, thoughts overlapping and spilling out faster than your tears did.

"Hey," Eddie got up, but you were quick to hold out both your hands, palms facing him.

"No. I've got work." you turned around, grabbed a jacket and opened your door.

"Maybe you shouldn't be here... when I get back." and before Eddie could say anything, you stepped out and shut the door behind you.

You worked a grueling shift, and Eddie had been able to hear loud voices and live music thump in your apartment. It was late when you finished work, and you were exhausted, but you'd tried all night to build yourself up. Handed over beers whilst simultaneously mentally stacking bricks to build up walls in order to shield that weak mess of a girl inside, make sure she was still safe in there.

And then, Eddie was still there when you got back.

Hatred knotted in your stomach, because Eddie was still here and you liked it. Relief washed over you when you saw him, sat in the dark, still on your couch, and you wished it had been something else. Not relief. You wished that instead you would've felt ugly things. Mean things, exclusively.

You looked at each other in silence as the door clicked shut behind you and you noticed Eddie seemed sad. However, you couldn't allow yourself to dwell on it. Because feeling bad for him wasn't going to help you. You knew exactly what was going to help you, though.

"Say something horrible to me," you sounded exhausted, voice flat, not enough energy to muster up anything more for him.

Eddie immediately frowned in confusion.

"Tell me I'm your worst mistake," you stepped closer as you let your jacket slide form your shoulders.

"Say something to make me hate you,"

"Baby," Eddie got up.

You winced at the pet name, closed your eyes and breathed heavily, tried your best to pretend you didn't hear it.

"Tell me you fuck every single girl that throws themselves at you and that they do you better than I ever will and,"

"What are you..." Eddie tried to interrupted, but it just made you speak louder over him.

"That you'll never stop because they're just, too, good," you couldn't help but let your voice slowly build anger as you avoided any and all eye contact with Eddie.

Eddie slowly got closer, confused and concerned. This isn't how he had envisioned the two of you to make up after your shift had ended.

"Say that you think I'm annoying, that you hate the way I laugh,"

Now stood right in front of you, Eddie reached for your face with both his hands and he tried to find your line of sight to make you look at him.

"I don't," Eddie started, and you were quick to interrupt. "Then lie." you said sternly.

The air felt tense, but only because you were shooting daggers, glaring at Eddie with dark eyes, trying to win the staring contest you'd started with him the second you'd made eye contact. You won, because Eddie looked at your mouth for a second, and you wondered how you were going to murder all the butterflies that sprung up in your stomach.

"Ruin us, Eddie," you tried so hard to be strong. "Please." but it was difficult, and Eddie upped the ante when he kissed you.

For a second, you let him. You let Eddie kiss you, and it was immediately hot, and heavy, and you liked it. But you were strong, God damn it. You hadn't spent all hours of your shift building yourself up for fucking nothing. You were strong and were going to protect yourself, because clearly, no one else was fucking going to.

In a bid to take back control, you bit Eddie. Harshly. It made him pull back immediately.

"Give me reasons to hate you," you pleaded, breathing heavily.

"You're a mistake," Eddie said before crashing right back into you. There was nothing kind about the way you kissed each other. Forceful lips, pressing mouths, scraping teeth mixed in with unkind words, because Eddie obliged and started giving you what you were asking for.

"You're the worst thing that's happened to me in my lifetime," Eddie started guiding you backwards towards you bed.

"I hate the way you laugh," his tongue licked at your lips as his hands started to undress you.

"I hate the way you look," he said it right as he got your bra off of you and used a hand to push you back, making you fall and bounce on the mattress.

"I'm gonna keep fuck..." Eddie stopped, sighed a small breath, like he was unable to get it out of his mouth.

"Say it," you ordered.

"I'm gonna keep fucking every single girl that wants it," and with that, Eddie let himself fall on top of you. You were used to him at least pretending that, whenever you had sex, it was about you first. Not tonight. And maybe that was exactly right, because it drove home all the words he said and made them land in your brain.

Eddie didn't care about you.

But then, inches deep inside you, Eddie panted sudden sweet words.

"You've no idea what you do to me,"

His words dripped with lust and adoration, and you could've cried, but you didn't. You were strong, remember?

"No, more things you hate, t-tell me," Eddie's pace was fast, made it hard for you to speak. "Tell me more things that make me hate you,"

Eddie grumbled, grunted, let himself fall onto you as he kept going and chased his own orgasm.

"I think," Eddie started, but was cut off by himself as he came fast. He shuddered and spasmed on top of you, moaned loudly, then softer, until everything eventually stilled. "I think we should just stay friends."

And with a kiss on your cheek, Eddie climbed off of you and disappeared into the bathroom.

When Eddie came back out, you were silently crying in your bed. Eddie slid back in, nestled under your covers, but you jolted when he tried to touch you. So Eddie turned around, and you slept in your bed the way you'd never slept in a bed together; back to back, without touching each other, like two strangers forced to share a blanket.

But, asleep-you and asleep-Eddie, weren't confined by the same things awake-you and awake-Eddie were confined by, and your bodies had found each other in the night.

You woke up the next morning with Eddie's arms around you, the little spoon to his big spoon, and for a moment, you let yourself really feel it. Feel Eddie with every fibre of your being.

You deserved to win, you thought. Because with Eddie, you’d come in first place every single time, ask anybody. But Eddie hadn’t awarded anyone in years. There wasn’t a shortlist for you to top. There was just a long line of pretty girls who waited by stage doors and by tour buses, and you didn’t want to be in that line. You wanted this; Eddie in your bed, cuddled up to you, breathing in your neck, his hair or yours tickling you with every exhale. You wanted all of this just for yourself, for ever.

But you couldn't.

Because Eddie always left.

And you had ran away from him.

"You should leave," you whispered into the dark, as the city woke up outside your windows.

"Not yet," Eddie said. "Go back to sleep."

You shifted back a little, more into him, pressing your back against his chest more as you abandoned everything that happened the night before for a second. You understood that the very moment your feet would touch your floorboards and you both got out of this bed, it'd all be real again. And then, it'd all be over.

So you snoozed, and stretched out time and pretended for a moment that you were 17 and in Eddie's old bedroom in the trailer after a weird night of crossed boundaries. You pretended to snooze until Wayne would loudly knock on the door and tell you to come and clean up the mess you left in the living room. You pretended to snooze until you were no longer pretending and you just snoozed until you woke up hours later and found yourself alone again.

Alone but for one of those stupid little notes.

"Love you x"

You read it, crumpled it up and threw it across the room before burying your face back into your pillow.

It was over now. Eddie was gone, and it was over.

-----

Read the follow up: Then Again

-----

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pinkkittysaw · 8 months

Text

GOT MILK?

pairing: clive rosfield x f!reader

summary: when jill offers to look after your daughter for a few days, clive indulges in a secret fantasy

word count: 4.6k

content: NSFW (minors + ageless blogs DNI you will be BLOCKED!) established relationship, you & clive have a child, pregnancy mention, minor body insecurity, oral (f! receiving), fingering, unprotected p in v, creampie, breast/nipple play, spit, praise, dirty talk, cursing, petnames (sweetheart, love, darling, etc.)

a/n: um…..blinks

dividers by @/cafekitsune

Three months. Three long, arduous months. It's been three months since you've been given a proper break.

You loved your daughter more than anything in this world, probably more than life itself. She's as cute as can be, never failing to tug on you and Clive's heartstrings whenever she laughs and giggles.

Clive thinks she takes after you, despite her having his inky hair and light eyes, whereas you believe she's more like him, obviously.

"She may have my features, but she acts more like you."

"You both make the exact same face sometimes, I swear," he chortles, sauntering over to plant a kiss on your cheek. "She has your cute pout, your adorable smile, and even your bratty attitude when she's grumpy, but that's neither here nor there," he jests. You feign offense and playfully swat his chest in rebuttal, "I most certainly do not have a bratty attitude."

"Sure, darling," he smirks, giving your cheek a quick pinch before heading off into the other room. Despite Clive's teasing, your daughter is actually quite well-behaved, or rather as well-behaved as one can be at six months old. can be.

You can't lie; raising a child, even one as sweet as your baby girl, is exhausting. Both you and Clive have been run ragged.

He stayed by your side during the first few months postpartum, taking on most, if not all, of the nighttime feedings, diaper changes, and mishaps. You started to feel guilty at some point, feeling the bed shift every night as soon as she got fussy. You question him one evening, curious if he was bothered by having to get up so frequently throughout the early morning hours. He shakes his head no in response. "You carried our daughter for nine months, love," he states. "The least I can do is get up at night to take care of her."

Thankfully, everyone in the hideout was more than accommodating of Clive's decision to stay by your side the first few months after your daughter was born. In fact, you're sure he would've received an earful from both Tarja and Jill if he tried to return to work any sooner than he did.

Those days have long since passed, though, and Clive soon returned to picking up assignments while you stayed at the hideaway taking care of your daughter. You'd think that with so many people congregated in one area, you'd have plenty of people to help watch over your daughter while Clive was away, but you couldn't have been more wrong. A majority were off on assignments of their own, and the ones who stayed behind either had work to be handled there or were too injured and otherwise unfit for watching an infant.

Needless to say, you and Clive were worn out and weary. Having gone three months without any real chance to recuperate, in comes Jill, poor, unsuspecting Jill.

She had just returned from her travels across the realm and decided to visit your chambers, excited to share all the exciting tales from her journey. "Oh, dear," was all she could muster upon seeing your exhausted disposition. Your under eyes had become darker and more prominent due to the lack of sleep.

Clive was out at the moment, but you implore Jill to stay, knowing he'd be happy to see his childhood friend once he returned. The two of you took a seat on the small couch in your chambers, catching her up on everything that's been going on in the hideout. Clive returns a short while later, pleasantly surprised at the sight of Jill, and the three of you bond over tea while she talks about her travels.

"Forgive me for saying so, but the two of you look a wreck."

"Yeah, haha, it hasn't been easy, that's for sure." You give a half-hearted laugh, trying to make light of how spent you and Clive truly are.

"I'm on leave for another few days; I wouldn't mind watching your daughter for a night or two."

"Are you sure? I wouldn't want to impose."

"It's not really imposing if I'm the one offering, is it?"

"Besides, I miss the little cherub."

A beat goes by, and she can tell that you're still feeling conflicted. "I promise I wouldn't have suggested the idea if I wasn't sure."

"Alright then," you say, grasping her hands in yours. "Thank you."

It's sometime later that you're packing everything she'll need in an overnight bag and going through the mental checklist in your head. "I think that's everything," you state, checking and then rechecking everything.

You're about to hand over the bag to Jill when you're hit with a wave of doubt. You watch as she cradles your baby girl in her arms and can't help but get flooded with a bunch of what-ifs. What if there aren't enough diapers? What if she won't settle down to sleep? What if there's an accident? Your worries build and build to the point where you're about to protest Jill taking her at all when Clive clasps a warm hand over your shoulder.

"She'll be alright, sweetheart."

You know he's right. Jill's watched your daughter overnight a few times before. You knew you could trust her; she was one of the biggest supports you had during your pregnancy, other than Clive. You release the breath you didn't know you were holding and sigh. "You're right, you're right," you agree, handing Jill the bag. "I just worry about her, you know?"

Jill smiles back at you. "No offense is taken, and I can assure you that your daughter is in good hands."

You and Clive give your daughter a soft kiss on the forehead before turning to Jill once more. "If anything, and I mean anything, happens, don’t hesitate to get in contact with us, alright?"

"I promise," she smiles as if to reassure you further.

"Say bye-bye to mommy and daddy," Jill states, grabbing your daughter's arm and waving it lightly in the air, causing her to giggle. "I'll see you both in a few days," she says before turning to take her leave. The door shuts behind her, and you and Clive are left in the silence of your chambers.

All of the following day was spent getting your life back in some semblance of order. Once neglected chores and errands were taken care of as Clive went about completing more assignments.

It’s late in the evening when he returns. You're nestled in bed reading a book when he walks in, changing out of his clothes and into his sleepwear. It’s a few minutes later that he climbs into bed beside you, snuggling into your back.

"Reading anything interesting?" he mumbles.

"Just a romance novel; I’ve been meaning to go through this one for a while but haven’t had the time."

"Is it any good?"

"For the most part, the characters are kind of cliche, but I'll give you my full review once I'm finished."

"I'm looking forward to it" is all he says as he presses a quick kiss to your cheek.

A few minutes pass, and you continue reading as Clive remains glued to your back before he cuts through the silence. "It’s so quiet."

You close the book and set it aside on the nightstand. "I know, it almost feels...wrong? I'm so used to hearing our girl babble or cry."

Clive hums into the nape of your neck before pulling you closer to him, slowly caressing your body over the nightgown you chose to wear. "I’m beginning to suspect that you're having less than pure intentions with me, Rosfield," you tease, starting to lean into his touch.

"Can you really blame me? When I have such an alluring and tempting woman in my bed?"

"I suppose not," you say, enjoying the feeling of his hands roaming your supple form.

Your body has changed so much since your pregnancy and subsequent birth. So much of you grew, shrank, stretched, and sagged, yet Clive still held you tender all the same. You're cradled gently in his arms as he kisses you. He worships your body, treating you as if you were the rarest and most prized treasure in all of Valisthea. You're worth so much more in his eyes—more than all the gil in the realm, more than the power of every Mothercrystal combined. He views you as if nothing else matters more than you and the sacred flesh that bore your daughter.

To say you were always at peace with the changes happening to your body would simply be a lie. You were well aware of all the ways your figure would change to accommodate the growing life inside you, but to be aware of the changes during pregnancy and to actually see them reflected on your own skin is vastly different.

In one of your earlier bouts of insecurity, questioning if Clive would still find you attractive after all was said and done, he pulled you into his arms, holding you close while whispering words of reassurance. "My love, this body has blessed me with the gift of being a father."

"This flesh-" he cuts himself off, placing a hand on your lower stomach to gently caress it. "This flesh that housed our daughter and kept her safe these past nine months is sacred to me."

"How could I ever hate it? How could I be unattracted to the body that has given life to our child?"

"If anything, I think it deserves to be worshipped."

His words echo through your head as you recall the sweet memories. Clive takes notice, as you've stopped moving your lips with his at this point. "What’s on your mind?" he asks, smirking down at you. You try and fail at tucking some strands of his shaggy hair behind his ear, choosing to fiddle with the earring that cuffs it instead. "Thinking about how much I love you," you sigh. "I'm lucky to be able to experience this with you."

He chuckles lightly at your statement before responding. "I’d say I was the lucky one," he strokes his finger along your cheek. "So much of my life has been filled with pain, grief, anger, vengeance, you name it."

"I had become jaded, fighting day in and day out in battles with seemingly no end in sight," he pauses before continuing, "but you, my love, showed me that things could be different."

"That I could grow into something more than my pain and my anger, that I had a real chance at a happier life, at making amends with myself for what I’ve done."

"I'll forever be grateful for that, for you, and for our family."

You give him a heartfelt smile. "I guess we’re both lucky then." You pull him back into a kiss once more, his body settling on top of yours. It’s soft and tender—the slow smacking of lips and gentle caressing of skin as you both enjoy each other. There’s no need to rush this; there's no need to hurry for fear of a waking baby. You're able to savor the tender intimacy of this moment in bed together.

You run your foot up and down his calf as he holds you close in his arms. The passion of the kiss increases as your breathing gets heavier and quicker in succession. It's not long after that tongues get added, gliding along each other as you savor the flavor of each other’s mouth.

You're the first to pull away, dilated pupils staring back at him as you state, "I love you." He smiles softly, his eyes filling with adoration as he gazes upon your sweet face. He leans in once more, whispering just above your lips, "I love you too, sweetheart."

He gives your lips a few more pecks before he cups your jaw and lolls your head to the side, allowing him access to your neck. "I’ve missed this," he whispers into your ear, "being able to take care of you, giving you pleasure." He stays in that spot for a few moments before moving down to your neck, placing open-mouthed kisses on the sensitive skin. His tongue rolls out of his mouth, licking at any skin it can find before the kisses become a bit more aggressive. Teeth softly graze the skin of your neck before it's sucked in between his lips.

Once he's done marking up your flesh, he returns to his original spot by your ear. There’s no beating around the bush when he asks with bated breath, "Can I make love to you?" A sheepish expression adorns your face. No matter how many times the two of you have sex, Clive being so blunt with the way he asks always makes you shy.

You mumble out a "yes," and he presses a chaste kiss to your lips before he moves down your body, tugging the hem of your nightgown right below your bustline. He leans back and takes a moment to admire the sight below him. Your body is bathed in the warm, gentle glow of candlelight. The soft curves of your form are accentuated by the shadows where the light doesn’t reach.

He moves back to your body again, pressing his lips just below where the fabric of your gown is bunched around your chest. More open-mouthed kisses litter your skin before he speaks once more. "It’s been a while since we could enjoy each other like this."

"Far too long," you agree.

"Looks like we better take advantage of this then," he murmurs before resuming his efforts.

Every roll, dip, curve, mark, and mole on your body gets lavished with the affection that his mouth and fingertips provide, worshipping your divine flesh. Clive has long since forgotten the supposed sanctity of the Eikons that have run the world into the ground for centuries. If he were to believe in anything holy, though, it’d be you, angelic in your reactions to his gentle caresses.

He lingers around the fullness of your stomach, tracing every stretch mark on your belly with his tongue as he squeezes your sides gently in his hands. "You're so beautiful, so sexy," he groans. "I love how you feel against me." The tips of his fingers skim your sides as his mouth continues its descent down your body.

When he reaches the hemline of your knickers, he jumps over to one of your thighs, continuing his kisses down your leg. This pattern continues until he's kissed up and down your legs, reaching the bikini line of your underwear. He pauses, taking note of the wet patch of arousal between your thighs. A single kiss is placed at the height of your cotton-clad mound before he's moving to take the band of your panties into his mouth and subsequently tugging them down with his teeth.

"You’re such a tease," you huff in light frustration. "Oh, you love it," he quips, smirking as he pulls the garment off your legs, tossing it on the floor. He readjusts himself on the bed, kneeling in front of your now-bent legs, and carefully pulls them apart.

He gets on his stomach and aligns himself with your needy cunt, tossing your thighs over his shoulders. He admires the glistening arousal that coats your folds before placing another kiss on top of your mound. He's quick to lick at your inner thighs, purposely avoiding where you need him the most. His teasing continues on for a few more minutes before you whine out his name in frustration.

"I’m just trying to enjoy the moment, love."

"There’s no need to rush," he coos, his tongue lapping at your outer folds, closer than he was before but not close enough for your liking.

"I’ve missed this part the most." With every break between his statements, he kisses his way closer to your desired destination. "I've missed taking my time with you, making you fall apart with just my tongue," and with that, he finally makes contact with your slit; it's a slow drag from your quivering hole to your puffy clit. "I've missed your scent." His tongue dips back down to your entrance, the muscle slowly thrusting in and out of you, savoring every drop of arousal that graces his tastebuds. "I've missed your taste." He gathers a pool of spit behind his lips before dribbling it on your clit, smearing it around with his tongue, thoroughly soaking the surrounding hair of your mons in the process. His drool dribbles down your cunt, and he’s quick to lap it all up, enjoying the way his tongue plays with your folds. Attention is brought back to your clit once more as his tongue flicks the nub back and forth before pulling it between his lips and sucking softly.

You give a full-bodied moan as he continues to eat you out, allowing your head to hang back as you exhale in pleasure. Your fingers clutch the soft bedding beneath you, causing Clive to take notice and interlock his fingers with your own.

You begin rolling your hips in tandem with his sucks, fully indulging in the pleasure he's giving you, when, of course, he pulls away. You’re about to start making a fuss when he speaks over you. "Would you like my fingers as well?"

"Uh-huh," you pant, staring down at him in anticipation. He pushes the middle finger of his free hand into his mouth, coating it in saliva before running it in between your slit, drawing slow circles around your clit.

You whine his name, having grown tired of his antics at this point. "Alright, my love." His finger trickles back down, tracing your entrance before slowly sinking into your warm heat. "Oh yes," you moan.

His mouth returns to your clit, giving you some time to adjust to the recent intrusion. After a few more whines and pleas, he begins to thrust his finger in and out of your warm heart, curling it slightly. Your hands find solace in his hair, tugging lightly on the dark roots. The thrust of his fingers increase in intensity as he continues to finger-fuck you. Your hips buck against his face once more as the desperation to reach your peak becomes apparent.

"Look me in the eyes when you cum."

"I want to see the look on your face when I make a mess of you." His gaze is intense when you meet his eyes. You can't help but bite your lip at the sight of him moving down to suckle on your clit once more. The smolder he throws your way as he continues to pleasure you is unfairly sexy, groaning into your cunt like you're the best meal he’s ever tasted. You’re reduced to nothing but pants and high-pitched whines as your hips continue to wildly buck against his mouth.

It’s only a few short moments later that you’re pushed over the edge, mouth agape, as you reach the peak of pleasure. You're borderline overstimulated as Clive continues to suck your clit through your climax. You unconsciously squeeze your thighs against his head in an attempt to get him to stop. He gets the hint and pulls away, and a slight sheen from your wetness can be seen on his lips and facial hair.

"Do you still wish to go further?" He murmurs against your skin.

"Ye- oh shit," his head perks up at your exclamation. "What's wrong? Are you alright?" His voice takes on a worried tone.

"Nothing’s wrong; it’s just...fuck, I’m leaking." The wet splotches on the fabric of your nightgown covering your breasts are now evident. "I haven’t pumped in a while."

"Oh." There's an awkward tension in the air as you both sit in silence. Clive's the one to break the ice. "So, when you orgasm, you leak milk?"

You attempt a half-hearted laugh, wanting to crawl under the covers and hide in embarrassment. "I could help you if you want." You're quick to raise an eyebrow in response. "Huh?" He’s a bit shy with his response this time. "I could, you know, suck on them and help express the milk."

"Are you serious?"

"I can’t lie to you—the way your breasts look now, their weight and fullness—they're tantalizing."

"I’ve been desperate to taste your milk straight from its source."

"Fuck, Clive" is all you can manage to say.

"Is that a yes?"

"Yes."

To say that you hadn’t also thought of Clive sucking the milk from your tits would be a lie. Excitement builds in the room as he stands up; his arousal is apparent as his erection shows through his clothes. He pulls off his sleep shirt along with the trousers, leaving him in his underwear. He crawls on the bed towards you, pulling you onto his lap to straddle him. The two of you meet in the middle for a kiss, tasting yourself on his lips.

He's slow to grind you against his still-covered shaft, guiding your hips back and forth while enjoying the sounds of your pants in each other's mouths. A bead of precum seeps through his underwear, where the head of his cock still lingers. The wet spots on your nightgown grow in size as your breast continues to leak from repeated pleasure.

Clive's hands run along the path of your legs to the now-fallen hemline of your gown, silently asking if he can remove the barrier that separates you from the sweetness. You give a simple nod, and he slowly pulls the fabric up your body, making sure you feel the drag of his fingers linger on your skin. The gown is pulled off your body and tossed off the side of the bed. The fullness of your breasts is much more apparent now that you’re sitting upright in front of him.

You drink each other in as you're enveloped in the warm, flickering light. He’s still just as handsome as when you first met him, with his kind bedroom eyes and gentle affections that are reserved for just you.

He looks upon your body with adoration—your thicker thighs, the swell of your hips, the way your belly hangs. A lovesick look crosses his features, sweetness filling his eyes when he tells you, "You’re the most beautiful woman to ever grace this planet." You know he's telling the truth; his warm hands knead the sides of your body as if to give the statement more weight.

Your hand reaches down to palm his cock through his underwear. The touch is light and gentle, causing his breath to hitch. You pull his hardened length through the band of his underwear, lightly pumping him up in your hand. After tugging the material of his underwear further down his legs, you sit yourself a bit higher on his lap, lining him up with your entrance.

The sound of your combined groans can be heard as you slowly inch yourself down on his cock. He fills you up deliciously, just as he always has, just as he always will.

You take a moment to settle yourself, his hands rubbing soothingly up and down your back, your head resting on his shoulder. Another confession of "I love you" is swapped between the two of you as you meet for another sweet kiss.

Your hips begin to roll back and forth while you're impaled on his cock. Clive takes this time to tenderly work at your breasts, gently massaging the swollen tissue. Airy, dulcet tones of enjoyment fall from your lips. He gently pinches your nipples, and droplets of milk dribble from your nipples, causing him to lick his lips. He leans his head closer to your chest, his mouth hovering over it. "Can I?"

"Uh-huh," you nod.

Your efforts on his cock speed up as you begin to bounce on him with slightly more vigor. He laps at the droplets that fall from your breasts before slowly licking around your areola. One of his arms braces you against him as you continue to ride him, and the other works its way down to your bum, squeezing the supple flesh.

The moment of truth finally arrives. Clive engulfs your nipple in his mouth and sucks lightly. Bursts of milk squirt into his mouth, and he's quick to gulp down every last drop.

"Mmf."

He continues to drain the excess milk from your breast, sucking and swallowing everything you can offer before switching over to the other. "Founder, you're so fucking hot," you say as you peer down at him while he mouths at your untouched tit.

"Yeah? You enjoy watching me drink from your breast, sucking on your sweet tits?"

You clench down on him hard, practically suffocating his cock as you drag your cunt up and down his shaft. A part of you feels dirty for enjoying this, enjoying the way your lover looks as he suckles your tit and watching the excess milk dribble from the corners of his mouth down to the rest of his body. You can’t deny its appeal as more of your wetness coats his cock.

"Yeah," you whine, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth, feeling flustered as you become desperate in your movements, wiggling your arm down your torso to rub at your clit. "Naughty girl," he murmurs against your skin before taking the other nipple into his mouth, repeating the same process he did previously.

The efforts on your clit accelerate as you move against him. The muscles of your thigh and core burn as your rhythm on his cock continues, and your mewls for him grow in volume. "Clive, I can’t, my legs-" he detaches himself from your breast at the sound, pulling you into his chest. He reaches both hands down to your bum, spreading both cheeks as he plants his feet on the bed and batters into your cunt, thrusting in and out with intense vigor.

A slew of whines escapes you, begging him to get you to completion. Your cheek rests on the crux of his neck and shoulder while he continues to fuck you mercilessly. Your fingers are relentless on your clit, smearing you and Clive's joint slick all around.

Both your drool and breast milk start to leak down onto his chest, creating delicious, slick friction as your bodies rub against each other. "Cum on my cock, sweetheart; you deserve it."

"Come on, it’s all for you." After a few more harsh thrusts and circles around your clit, you sob into his shoulder, wildly rutting your hips against his navel, extending the peak of your pleasure for as long as you can. You fully collapse onto him, your creamy cunt pumping and milking his cock for everything it has. It’s only a few short moments later that he delivers his final sloppy thrusts before filling you with his seed.

You’re both sweaty and spent as you lay in each other's arms, the sounds of your labored breathing echoing throughout the room.

"I love you," Clive says as he presses a kiss on your forehead.

"I love you too," you mumble before reaching to peck him on the lips. You snuggle up against him before asking, "So... what does my milk taste like?"

He gives an airy laugh before responding. "It actually tasted quite good."

"I wasn't sure what to expect, but it was surprisingly sweet and rather warm."

"Well," you say amusedly, "I'm glad you enjoyed yourself."

"I wasn’t the only one who enjoyed myself," he teases, smirking down at you. "Yeah, yeah," you grumble, attempting to hide your embarrassment as you bury your face into his chest.

"Come on, love," he chuckles, rubbing his arm up and down your back. "Let's get cleaned up and ready for bed."

#clive rosfield x reader #clive rosfield smut #final fantasy x reader #final fantasy smut #final fantasy xvi x reader #final fantasy xvi smut #final fantasy 16 x reader #final fantasy 16 smut #smut #x reader #lactation smut #blurbs #✰ミ angel writes

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aurumacadicus · 2 months

Text

I posted the first two parts of minotaur Steve (under same tag) specifically so you all could have some slight background on this scene (because I wanted it to hurt more probably):

"You have to come," Tony exclaims, angry, but there's some genuine panic threading his voice. "We've come this far, you can't just--"

"You dragged me this far," Steve snarls, and only feels a little bad when Tony takes a nervous step backward. "You took me from the labyrinth for your own reasons. It was never to rescue me from living and dying there. Now you want me to die to save you? You're no better than the gods."

Tony looks hurt for a moment, like Steve has taken one of his massive hands and just slapped him, but it doesn't hide the hint of shame that crosses his face. He recovers quickly, though, anger covering everything. "It's not my fault. I'm not the one who made that shitty prophecy. I wanted to solve my own problems. The gods are the ones who decided I couldn't!"

"So you'd sacrifice me?!" Steve bellows, and Tony skitters backward, clutching the Rogers shield to himself protectively. "Like I'm a dumb animal?! You should have taken one of the others. At least they wouldn't know one way or the other." He glares at Tony for a moment. He doesn't know how to explain how much this betrayal hurts, that Tony knew the gist of the prophecy meant Steve would probably die and had strung him along with him anyway. Had probably offered Steve the gift of his body knowing he would never have to fulfill it, he thought, perhaps uncharitably. He doesn't even want that, which doesn't help the hurt at all.

He should have known the world outside the labyrinth wasn't for him, is probably what hurts the most. There was a reason his mother had never brought him outside, even after she'd realized Steve could navigate the walls. She'd never asked him to find the way out so she could show him the sky. She'd known what Tony had apparently known, but hadn't had the heart to tell him--he's a monster, and men kill monsters. There will never be a place for him in open air.

"I hope the Hydra Cult burns your entire forest to the fucking ground," Steve snarls, and it mostly isn't true, but he wants Tony to hurt as much as he'd hurt him.

It works a little too well, he thinks, as Tony sucks in a breath that sounds more painful than helpful. His eyes fill with tears, and his face flushes with shame and embarrassment. There's a moment where he starts to feel guilty.

But Tony rallies quickly, flush turning to anger, blinking back his tears as if they never existed. "Fine. Go back to the labyrinth for all I care. I hope someone kills and roasts you like the beast you are before you get there," he snarls. He throws the shield at Steve's hooves. "I don't need this. I don't need you. I can take care of my forest myself."

"Sure," Steve spits back, glaring, as Tony turns on his heel to stomp down the road. The urge to remind him he had to save him from a few satyrs along the way is on the tip of his tongue, but something in him makes him swallow it back. Probably the part of him that remembers his mother's expression before she'd told him to run away and hide. It would be too low a blow, even for him, even as angry as he is.

He bends to pick up the shield. He doesn't understand how it can be a weapon. His mother had never spoken of it. But then, it had been from her husband's side of the family. He had inherited it because of her name, not because they'd accepted him. They'd only given it to him when Tony had mentioned a prophecy. Humans were scared of being on the wrong side of a prophecy, the village elder had said as he'd passed it over to them. It's heavy. He's reluctantly impressed Tony had carried it as long as he had, too anxious at the sight of the emblem burned into his hip to take it in his own hands.

Was Tony's kind understanding just pity, because he knew he was bringing Steve to die, Steve wonders. Or was he being kind to be kind? He'll never know, he figures, turning to chuck it into the sea.

Then he hears a sound, perhaps the most awful one he's ever heard--agony, and defeat, and dismay, all at once. His mother had instilled a conscience in him. He turns.

Tony is crumpling to the ground. Steve thinks he's tripped, for a moment, except his hands don't go out to catch himself. He just falls, and lies there where he landed, small and unmoving. Like the gods had struck him down where he stood for his hubris.

"Tony," Steve gasps, only half against his will, and thunders after him.

Steve is so careful as he turns him onto his back, feeling awkward and unwieldy. Tony's shaking--seizing, he remembers his mother calling it once, eyes rolled back in his head, saliva foaming in the corners of his mouth. As he watches, a drop of blood begins to trickle from his nose. He cradles Tony's head in one big hand, so he doesn't hit it on anything, feeling helpless, just like he had as his mother had passed away in his arms.

Tony doesn't pass away, though. Eventually, he sags in Steve's hold, eyelids fluttering. He coughs, and a fine mist of blood fills the air in front of his mouth.

"Tony," Steve whispers, pulling him close to his chest. "What happened?"

Tony says nothing for a few minutes, focused on catching his ragged breath. Finally, though, he croaks, "They cut through one of my heartwoods." He coughs again, then sobs, looking up at Steve with liquid eyes. "Steve, they're killing everyone in the east of my forest."

Steve frowns. "How do you know?"

"I can feel them dying," Tony sobs, and somehow he manages the strength to grab Steve's arm, crying in earnest. "I can feel all of them dying around me. I couldn't protect them. I couldn't do enough. They're dying because of me."

"Tony," Steve whispers, cradling him to his chest, as Tony sobs and sobs.

#ideas #stony #minotaur steve

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olivyh · 1 year

Note

That Jamil fic with the ladybug was hilarious!

Now I wanna see Jamil with a reader who's great at making, well, anything. Leave her in the kitchen? She's already made a whole feast. Give her some fabric and a sewing machine? Boom! She's made a snake plushie. Leave her in a workshop? She's made a music box.

Jamil's heart is probably overflowing with love

A/N: EVERYONE HERE LOVES JAMIL SO MUCH AND IT MAKES ME SO HAPPY!! He's such a complex character with so much lore!!! Jamil needs to be cared for <<33

Jamil thought he would have gotten used to this by now- waking up to warm breakfasts sitting on his bedside table, combing back to the dorm after practice to a warm quilt made out of scrap fabric found in Ramshackle, a homemade phone case when Floyd broke his during practice?

They'd even gone through the trouble of handcrafting him a small music box that plays a small lullaby similar to a song he'd mentioned in passing; a lullaby from his homeland that his mother would sing to him at night. The small box had sprung tears to his eyes when he'd unwrapped it and allowed the sweet melody to drift into the night air. He still listens to it often, winding it up and listening to the notes when he's had a long day or feels homesick. It also serves as a constant reminder of the love that he received from his partner day in and day out- love that exceeded the puppy love that he was told he would feel. Jamil felt as though the word love alone couldn't describe what swelled his heart every time he looked at one of the gifts- it was adoration, yes; Respect for them and their skills, absolutely; awe at their crafty nature... he couldn't seem to settle on just one word.

He couldn't help but feel a little uncomfortable at the affection at first- he was so used to being given gifts with the intention of delivering them to Kalim, so used to having to hand off items that he desperately wanted to keep to himself. He couldn't help but smile at the familiar swell in his heart when he discovered a snake plush that had somehow found its way into his backpack when he set it down during lunch, looking around the room for his Love only to catch their passing glance as they shot him a wink and a smile.

He sat down in his seat, his hoodie suddenly feeling too tight and way too warm against his skin as he slipped it back into his bag, feeling suddenly possessive over the item. A part of him wanted to set it up on the table to show to everyone what he got, that he had someone who loved him so deeply that they took time out of their life to make him something solely because they wanted to.

At the same time, he wanted to keep it all to himself, like a little secret shared between lovers and hidden from the world's prying eyes. He also didn't want to risk Kalim's incessant questioning once he surely saw the plushie. He continued to eat lunch, as usual, only looking up occasionally to see if his partner had left. Once he's seen them raise from their seat and bid their friends farewell, he stood suddenly, making the white-haired boy across from him jolt as his head shot up.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Jamil mumbled, grabbing his things and turning to the heir. "The prefect texted me and asked if I could help them with something."

Kalim smiles and the sight of it nearly makes Jamil freeze- the boy had been nothing but supportive of his relationship, even going so far as to pay for them when Jamil brought up the idea of taking them back to see his home. Yet, his knowing grin arose some sort of conflicting emotions within him- once more, greed and possessiveness rising above all. Deep within, however, seeping through the cracks, thrived the feeling of acceptance, of giddiness at the idea of Kalim knowing that the prefect was his and his alone, as well as the possibilities that opened knowing that Kalim was accepting of their relationship.

He rid his head of the thoughts and quickly hurried off, approaching the prefect once they split from the group and pulling them into a quiet stairway, the two of them hidden behind a beam.

"You're tricky," He looks at them, a small smile forming on his face.

"Did you like it?" Jamil could hear more and more people start flooding into the hall, and he lamented the limited time they were able to spend together. He pressed a chaste kiss to their lips, glad to be hidden by the shadow.

"I do like it," Another kiss, this time on their forehead. "Thank you."

"What are you gonna name it?"

"Hm? I didn't think about that," He admits quietly, wrapping his arms around their waist and trying to prolong the moment, knowing that this will be the only few moments they would be able to spend together until they're both pulled in separate directions. If they were lucky they would have time at the end of the day to unwind at either dorm (which ended up being Scarabia). All too often would Jamil have to ignore that familiar tug of 'not yet' as it pulls at his heartstrings.

"You should name it! Something like..." They hum for a moment. "Snake themed?" He chuckles.

"Any ideas?" He pulls away from them once the hallway becomes too crowded for their liking, already longing for their warmth.

They nod and open their mouth to say something else, their hand snaking into Jamil's and intertwining their fingers together as they try to find some semblance of the affection that was between them just moments before.

"Pre~fect!" Ace's voice rings through the hallway, making Jamil sigh and frown as he looks over his shoulder to see if he could spot the boy. "Grim got stuck in the vents again!"

"What?!" He winces at the sudden loudness of the voice as they sigh, eyebrows knitted on their forehead in exasperation. "How?"

"His ass is stuck!" Ace's voice breaks into rowdy laughter towards the end. His lover sighs and rests their head against his chest once more.

"Duty calls, Love," He snickers as he presses a kiss to the crown of their head. "Better get him out before classes start." That earns him a glare from them as they tug playfully at his hoodie strings before leaving. He watches them warmly as they leave, still hidden in the shadow of the pillar. He can feel the plushie pressing through the fabric of his backpack against the space between his shoulder blades.

As he walks back to the dorm, he can't help but feel overwhelmingly loved, a pressure that presses hard down on his chest until it steals his breath from his lungs the more he thinks about it. He silently promised to return the favor one day- hoping to express his gratitude with a warm meal and cuddles well into the night, followed by a flurry of kisses across their face until they looked as giddy as he felt in this very moment.

Until then, he had to return to his treasures and add the newest member of the family to the pile.

#twst #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland fanfiction #jamil viper #jamil viper x reader #jamil x reader #scarabia x reader #twst jamil #twst jamil viper #twisted wonderland jamil #twisted wonderland jamil viper #twst fanfic #twst fanfiction #twst fluff

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captainofthedauntless · 9 days

Text

More Rise!Nardo thoughts.

Just thinking about how he'd abuse the fuck out of his portal abilities with you. Always offering to be your "ride" when you need to go somewhere, using it as an excuse to see you for just a minute when you're busy. The classic you're upset? oh lol i just Happened To Pop By A Shop, Here, Your Favorite Snacks.

He'd show up in a heartbeat to help you move furniture, or to help you cook, or to help you speed clean because your aunt's in town all of a sudden and you cannot let her know you live like this.

You don't think anything of it, really. Because it's effortless for him. It's like getting up from the couch for how much energy it takes him.

But it gets to be a habit.

It's a pattern.

You text him after a long day, once, and you say something about being tired and not wanting to cook, and then he's in your kitchen with a crackle of blue energy and a bag of take out and a hoodie he pulls off less than five minutes later, passing it to you with an easy shrug and a nonchalant smile. Lot warmer in here than the lair, he says breezily, as though it isn't your favorite of his hoodies. As though it was an accident.

He does that a lot, you realize. Act as though calculation is coincidence.

And then you can't stop realizing it.

It's not just the portals.

It's everywhere.

He's everywhere.

He's spending enough time at your place that he just leaves his stuff there when he gets a mission call, and you end up with a stack of books and comics that you definitely didn't pick up yourself, and instead of mentioning it you just replace his horrifying whatever-he-can-find bookmarks (you find one of your bracelets there, once) with actual ones. People keep giving them to you as freebies- might as well put them to use.

Somehow he knows when you've got big appointments scheduled, and he just casually shows up the night before and complains about how you do your chores and insists on showing you how it's done, and then you blink and he's put away every dish in your kitchen, all while playfully critiquing your organization. And, like magic, you're free to sit down and relax, because evidently your sweeping technique is also tragic, no, no, give me that, you're- you're banished, that's abysmal, and feet off the ground- don't care, it needs swept, go on.

Crazy how his movie night picks are some of your favorites. Great minds think alike, eh?

And then 'huh, Leo's pretty helpful' becomes 'oh, Leo's given me impossible standards' when you wake up in the middle of the night and can't seem to catch your breath from a nightmare. You fumble for your phone and type what's supposed to say are you up? and comes out as ate yii yo? and then your phone is ringing.

He greets you with a you alright? that you think should probably be harsher than it is considering the hour, and when you manage to get the word dream out of your face he follows up with want some company?

And you must say yes, because the next thing you know is a crackle of blue energy (which should look dangerous, should feel dangerous, but looks like a playful wave and feels like home) and nearly six feet of mutant turtle dropping onto your bed, landing with a playful bounce that shakes a little of the dream-scented-sludge from your mind.

Sorry, he says, playful and grinning as he folds his arms behind his head and watches you like he can read your mind, traffic was a nightmare.

And you shake your head, because what the fuck, but you're laughing despite yourself and some of the scrutiny melts from his eyes.

Thought I'd-

Don't say drop by.

I would never, he says, but he doesn't elaborate on what he was going to say, and you draw your own conclusions. Anywhoozles, what's the vibe? Movie? Snack? Field trip to the top of the Great Wall?

And somehow he means it.

He's in your room at four in the morning, still in his pajamas, mask down around his neck, all warm and soft and sleep-shaped, and offering you the world like it was a piece of gum.

And you just stare at him, wondering if you're still dreaming.

#leonardo #x reader #leonardo x reader #leonardo & reader #*writing #2018 #imagines #headcanons #aged up as always- going for college-age here

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thegayestmferintown · 2 months

Note

Please take your time!!

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Can I have headcanons of the 7 princes + databables(Raphael, solomon, thirteen etc) reacting when MC expresses their filipino culture? (Like telling stories about the events, cooking their favorite sultural dish, etc)

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Feel free to delete it, and please take your time!!

Hello! I am not Filipino myself, so I didn't go much into detail. Forgive me for that!

I sadly couldn't think of anything for the dateables (idk why, my mind just drew a blank)

The only dateable I could truly think of a scenario with was Barbatos, but for some reason I couldn't figure out how to write it.

This takes place in the original timeline

Warnings ;; None

Relationship ;; I wrote this in a romantic sense, but can be interpreted however!

Type ;; Headcanons

LUCIFER ;; THE PRIDEFUL ELDEST

Lucifer is very much intrigued. He would love to learn more, but he would never outright ask you.

Lucifer is far too prideful to come out and say it, so you'd have to look at his body language.

The very slight twinkle in his eye when you explain, the small but noticable genuine smile that crosses his lips.

He very much enjoys your cooking, and will compliment you subtly.

He's particularly fond of the times you'll come into his private study and sit by the fireplace while you tell him all sorts of stories.

MAMMON ;; THE SCUMMY SECOND-BORN

Oh, Mammon is all for it. He's asking you for recipes, stories, and recommending you sell both throughout the Devildom.

He's listening intently, and getting excited anytime you bring something about your culture up during conversation.

Although, if you bring it up, his face will immediately turn beet-red and he'll say something along the lines of:

"O-Of course it ain't i-interestin'! But I'm ya first man, ain't I? I g-gotta let my human yap ev'ry now 'nd again!'

He is so hopelessly in love with you, it's not even funny.

LEVIATHAN ;; THE OTAKU THIRD-BORN

I actually cannot see Leviathan being too concerned with it at first. He'd probably be more concerned with watching anime with you, reading manga with you, or playing games with you to really care about your ethnicity.

He'd more than likely start to point out characters in separate animes or games that share the same ethnicity as you.

If you were to make different Filipino meals for him, he would be absolutely over the moon. If you bring him the food, make sure you bring tissues with you.

He'd listen to your stories, occasionally making references to TSL, Ruri-Chan, or others, if possible.

All in all, He wouldn't really care at first, but he would become more interested the more time passed.

SATAN ;; THE CYNICAL FOURTH BORN

Knowing Satan, he'd probably already know a lot. And he'd hold it over Lucifer's head that he knows more about your ethnicity than he does

Besides that, he's perfectly willing to listen to your stories, even if he knows them already.

He's particularly fond of your cooking, and he will tell you that. He might point out subtle things that he'd change, but he doesn't really care if you take his advice or not. After all, he's not a chef.

If he finds any sorts of books that have to do with your ethnicity, he'd bring them to you and let you read them, after he reads them first though.

He would also love to sit down and read them with you, or to you, if you asked.

ASMODEUS ;; THE NARCISSISTIC FIFTH-BORN

Asmo just thinks it's so cute! Especially when you're cooking, or telling him stories.

He might watch himself around your food, given his public appearance, but that doesn't mean he dislikes it!

He's truly fond of your cooking, he is. He's just weary of other people's opinions.

He loves listening to your stories while he does your makeup, or his own.

Even during his 26-step skincare routine, he's probably having you come to his room so he can listen to your stories.

BEELZEBUB ;; THE FAMISHED SIXTH-BORN

Marry him. On the spot. Beel absolutely loves Human-World food, and the fact that you're willing to make it for him? Oh, he's in love.

You may have to shove him out of the kitchen because otherwise, he'll eat all of the ingredients before you can even put them together.

If he manages to stay put and not eat any of the ingredients, he's watching you cook albeit while drooling.

He literally looks like an excited puppy when you give him the food.

He chows it down quickly, and asks you for more. Make a shitton, it'll go quickly.

BELPHEGOR ;; THE CATNAPPING SEVENTH-BORN

Belphie probably couldn't care less about your culture. If his twin is happy, he's happy.

The only time he'd more than likely be interested, is if he just so happens to fall asleep to one of your stories.

He'd start to ask to you come back, and eventually he wouldn't be able to fall asleep without your stories.

Obviously, he would, but with some struggle. It's Belphie, the Avatar of Sloth we're talking about here.

He's probably pretty fond of your food, although he much prefers your stories.

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bigification · 9 months

Text

The Distributor - Male TF Story

A muscular, but put together man walks into a gym. He walks right passed the front desk as if they didn't see him, though some backstory items required to explain what was about to take place.

Chronos, the god of time, had grown bored of the mundane world of humanity. He had sworn to not interfere, but he couldn't help but think of the possibilities of how interesting this world could be if humanity was given something to stir them up. He was too hesitant to start too extreme, but messing with a few humans couldn't hurt. That's when he thought of something he had been working on, distributor. An ability that allows him to distribute the size, age, and even personalities among a group of people, *theoretically*. Why not try a test run, after all, if things go that bad he can just turn back time.

All that led to this moment, a god walking into a gym. Chronos casually walked to the middle of the gym, "This should do, only people in the gym should be affected by this." He said to himself as he released his power. He froze time and approached the closed man to him, a powerlifter in the middle of a rep.

He stood there for a moment, wondering what would happen to this man. Would he become the new Hulk, getting all of the muscle from the other men here, or would he turn into an immobile blob of fat, or neither. The tension is the exact reason Chronos did this. He started time again, and the changes began almost immediately. His belly began to grow, only being restrained by his skin tight belt. The tension grew and grew until the belt snapped in a loud bang, something did not seem to phase him, or anyone else in the gym for that matter. Now free from its shackles, a round belly flooded out, pushing out his stretchy singlet. His pecs ballooned out, also pushing out his singlet until they formed a soft pair of moobs that rested on his belly. His body formed an S shape as his once perky ass became flabby as fat flooded into his cheeks. The sudden and drastic change to the man's center of gravity seemed to throw him off balance but he continued to hold up the extremely heavy weight. The rest of his body seemed to catch up with the weight gain as chubby cheeks and a double chin former under his bushy beard. The musculature on his arms and legs became hidden under a layer of pudge and his fingers grew a layer of padding, resembling stuffed sausages. The man dropped the weight and opened his eyes. Chronos waited in anticipation for the mans reaction, but there was none. The man rubbed his belly as if he'd always been that fat, before proceeding to do another rep.

Slightly confused, Chronos reversed time to the moment he released his power and moved on to the next man he could see. A young scrawny guy, probably in his early 20s, was near the weights. It was probably his first time here, he looked like he had no idea what he was doing. Chronos started time, eager to see what happened to him.

The guys transformation happening quickly and suddenly. First one of his noodles arms burst out with muscle, his bicep grew to the size of his head and his hand doubled in size as veins surfaced all over his arm. The other arm followed suit, making his proportion look ridiculous. His shoulder broadened, becoming larger than those of the powerlifter. His previously flat chest ballooned out with muscle, completely destroying the shirt he was wearing. His now exposed pecs created a shelf over the rest of his comparibly tiny body, as hairs covered his swollen chest. His torso then grew in proportion with his massive shoulders, destroying what little was left of his shirt. This revealed a small muscle guy that became covered in hair, just like his chest. The man's legs quickly matched his body as his thighs plumped up, ripping right through his shorts and underwear, leaving him completely naked. His thighs were left thick enough to always be touching, with a now massive dick hanging between them. His feet exploded out of his size 8 shoes, becoming a hulking size 18, needed for balancing his massive body. Chronos was too distracted to notice that the man had grown to 6"5 during his transformation. He also didn't notice the man's face, he really got the short end of the stick with his age as a white beard covered his wrinkling face. Although he still looked great for his age, he must've been in his 60s by now.

The man gave a deep satisfied grunt as a white the liquid ran down his legs. "It seems all the muscle and testosterone went to this guy." Chronos said as the man posed in front of a mirror.

Chronos eyed down the man for a while before reversing time again and moving on. He made his way to the change rooms, immediately spotting a solid muscle gut soaking in the showers.

Chronos seemed to walk over in a trance, approaching the man, oblivious to the god around him and oblivious to the effects his powers will have on his body. He unpaused time, letting his power take ahold of this hunky man. Suddenly the man seemed to bend over as his glorious gut began to shrink. All of the day on his body quickly disappeared, as a cut 6 pack appeared under the sea of fat. His man boobs quickly turned into a pair of juicy pecs, creating a shelf over his abs. Veins appeared over his massive arms as thick traps appeared on his broad shoulders.

His demeanor changed as the older weathered man de aged into his 30s. Growing a full head of hair and a mustache straight out of the 80s. The man stretched with new life, and new muscle as he exited the shower. Smiling as he remembered how hot he is.

"I'll be back for you." Chronos said with a wink before moving on. He walked back to the locker room, reversing time once again. He noticed the one other man in the room, a cute ginger. Probably keeping up physique in between rugby, Chronos thought to himself. He looked over the man's short red hair, pasty white skin, and thick brushing of matching body hair.

"Well you're cute." Chronos said as he unpaused time. "I wonder how you'll turn out." He said, hot expecting what was to come. The man quickly sprouted up in height, going from a moderate 5"10 to a monstrous 6"7, going from what looks like a rugby player to a basketball player. The small layer of fat the man had seemed to grow, at first giving him a small pot belly, then growing to a solid beer gut. His relatively small chest broadened, looking more fitting for his now massive stature. His pecs swelled into a thick pair of moobs, big enough that no shirt would be able to hide it. That wasn't the most alarming part, though, the man's pasty white skin began to darken, and darken, and darken. His light ginger hair darkened to a dark black color as it became extremely curly all over his gargantuan body. His facial features started to shift, his lips plumped up and his nose widened as the hair on his hard receded and his shirt beard quickly grew into a thick bushy one. Covering up his now chubbier cheeks, and double chin, though it didn't look out of place on his large body. The man's arms then blew up with both fat and muscle, growing puffy biceps and giant man hands. Chronos then looked down to see the man rip out of his already small looking gym shorts, revealing a thick 8 cock hanging between his massive thighs and two thick cheeks sticking out behind him. He then noticed his size 18 feet rip right through his shoes. The man then grabbed his now comparably tiny towel and covered his manhood.

"Looks like big guy over here hogged all the melanin. I didn't even know I could do that." Chronos said while analysing his latest test subject. "Goodluck getting out of here in any clothes that fit." As he grabbed the 400 pound behemoth of a man.

Moving on, Chronos wondered into what looked like an office, forgetting to rewind time. He walked into what he soon found out was the main office, with the owner of the gym sitting in an office chair.

"Damn that guys massive, I was kind of expecting a different kind of massive coming from a business man but I guess it makes sense for a gym owner." Chronos said under his breath as he went to see he went to see what the man had on his computer, being the snoop that he is. He is shocked to see a picture of a very fat man on this man's computer. And that's when it clicked, he forgot to rewind time and the picture was of him before the transformation.

He rewinded time to see the ripped gym rat looking man turn into an obese dad with a giant ball belly. The exact man in the photos. "Well that explains a lot." Chronos says as he leaves the office, but finds himself walking right into someone. He takes a step back and sees a massive old man standing in front of him

"Damn, I guess that's where all of the fat went." He said standing at eye level with this man's gut. He rewinded time to see that the massive old man was once a young father, attempting to get rid of his dadbod. "What would your wife think of you how old man, hey I mean some girls are into the beach ball sized gut." Chronos said as he let out a meniacle laugh, watching the young man's life fade under hundreds of pounds of fat and grey hairs. The buttons on his already tight shirt popped off in dramatic fashion, as his giant gut spilled out. His moobs softened to the point that they now lay on his gut. The bottom half of his body is left naked after his shirt and underwear face under the immense pressure of his growing body. "I would hope that you at least got a big dick out of this exchange, but I can't see it anymore." Chronos continued to tease the poor man, despite the fact that he can't hear any of it. A thick grey beard covered the man's aging face, and his hairline receded way back on his head. The poor man just wanted to get rid of a small belly that fatherhood had given him, and now he left an obese naked old man. Though despite this, he still had a big smile plastered on his face.

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sagau-my-beloved · 1 year

Text

A Lack of Patience and the Fortunate Result, Part: 2

Warnings: general sagau

"Oh your grace~"

You opened your eyes, which you hadn't realized you even closed in the first place, at the sound of a foreign voice that happened to be eerily close to your ear. Catching sight of a figure out of the corner of your eye, you nearly jumped out of your skin before realizing it was just Venti.

'Just Venti', that was practically scoff worthy. 'Just a physical manifestation of my mental decay' was just as concerning and about just as accurate.

A physical manifestation that seems to have made you eggs no less... Which were rather burnt looking as he held them out to you nervously.

You blinked once, then twice, he blinked back in response, his nervous look becoming more so at the growing silence.

You tentatively sat up after a moment, not missing the pain in your neck from the awkward sleeping position, taking the outstretched plate into your own hands and mumbling out something akin to a confused 'thank you?' as he handed you a fork.

Well, it looks as though he did some poking around your kitchen. You spared a tentative glance behind you, prepared to witness complete wreckage, the likes of which mimicking that of a passing tornado, which wouldn't be too entirely uncharacteristic, given the circumstances, only to see the stove looked pretty unused.

You spared a questionable glance in his direction, though you weren't entirely sure you wanted to know the answer to the unspoken question of how the hell he cooked this.

Venti responded with a nervous smile, sensing that he might have broke convention with the cooking method he chose.

"I made a fire outside."

Ah, so that explains it. How incredibly concerning and just as in character.

"Is the fire out now?"

He immediately nodded at your words, giving a look of comically exaggerated offense that you would even consider him so reckless as to leave an unintended fire right next to your home.

With that worry out of the way, you took a small bite of the eggs to find they weren't completely horrible. Kind of overcooked in certain places, which was about to be expected, but better than you would typically have for breakfast. Venti took your decision to continue eating after the first bite as a silent win, promising himself to make you something better when he was able. You deserved nothing but the best of course.

"So," you started after a moments silence, eating the final bite as you collected your thoughts, "I've got to get ready for work now..."

"I'll come with you then!" He practically beamed, leaving very little room for discussion as he quickly collected your plate and placed it on the counter near the sink, still rather unsure how to use the majority of your appliances.

"Uh, sorry, that's not exactly possible."

You're pretty sure your job would frown upon you bringing someone to work, and you highly doubt they would take 'yeah sorry, he's not from this world and kinda thinks I'm a god' as a reasonable excuse.

Of course Venti's face immediately fell, why couldn't he spend every waking moment of his around you? It's not as if he'd be a nuisance, he'd abide by any rules you laid down, naturally. But he could tell you probably weren't going to be keen in bending this particular constraint.

"I'm only working part time today, so I'll be back by three, if that's any consolation."

You really didn't know why you were trying to comfort him, you still weren't entirely sure he wasn't just some figment of your imagination, and even if he wasn't he should be pretty accustom to being on his own, assuming this was the exact same free-spirited god of Anemo that stood before you, looking like he was about ready to fall to his knees at your command.

He really wasn't particularly good at hiding that admiration, the way his eyes never left your form, how he seemed to hang on to your every movement—

Hopefully other people weren't quite this perceptive, or you might be in for some trouble down the line.

"Do you have to go?" Venti asked in a way that actually managed to make you feel bad.

"Well, if I don't they might fire me, then we'd both kind of be in trouble." You tried to make your tone display more of a joking manner, but his eye's immediately widened regardless.

"Fire you!?"

Did he think you were the head of a company or something? You found yourself stuck between wanting to laugh and also feeling incredibly bad that his 'god' was just a normal person, as much a low-level worker as everyone else. You took a moment to wonder if that's how his followers felt when discovering the broke alcoholic bard was really a god.

Maybe you two did have more in common than you previously thought.

You didn't have a lot of time to continue reflecting as a weight was placed directly on your lap, a weight that was attached to an incredible needy personality no less.

You could do little more than let out a sigh as Venti made himself comfortable, smiling as he wrapped his arms around your neck and laid his head on your shoulder.

This might as well happen. A fictional character you generally liked, desperate for every scrap of affection you'd graciously provide.

You couldn't remember the last time you had a hug anyway, living alone had its disadvantages, so you choose to not immediately push him away in favor of enjoying his affection a bit longer.

Venti was quite enjoying his position, the enthusiastic vessel in which all his and Teyvat’s love for you passed through, ready to step up and take the full responsibility of representing it accurately.

You did finally choose to get up, giving him a light push to the side, him returning the gesture with a smile that some might describe as desperate.

Venti allowed you to leave, biting back the unpleasant dread that came with the knowledge he wouldn't see you for upwards of eight hours, instead pushing his thoughts towards what he could do for you in your absence.

As soon as the sound of the door closing echoed through the room after a semi-awkward goodbye, a sign that he really was alone once again, Venti set out on memorizing every square inch of your apartment.

It was small, significantly smaller than some of the rentable living spaces in Mondstadt. He wandered aimlessly for a moment, taking in all of the high-tech foreign looking things he certainly had no clue how to use. Meticulously looking at every framed picture, attempting to memorize the faces, in case they were important to your life.

It didn't take him long to find your room, being one of the only two rooms with an actual door.

Venti hesitated, hand hovering over the doorknob. He wanted to enter, a space that contained traces of no one but you, an area more sacred than any back in Teyvat. You wouldn't find out, and he certainly wouldn't touch anything. That's what he told himself at least, trying to mentally combat all of the reasons he probably shouldn't invade your privacy.

It was too good of an opportunity to pass up.

The door creaked open and he mentally cringed, as if you were still there to hear it, as if you simply had a way of knowing he was doing something wrong before he even did so.

That previous gnawing anxiety quickly vanished as soon as he was actually inside, replaced with a feeling of absolute serenity from simple standing in the place you considered most private.

It was about as small as he expected it to be, given the layout of the house. A small bed, partly made up, tucked away in the corner. It's not as if your room was overflowing with possessions, but there were plenty of personal items he would kill to get his hands on and any other situation.

He had intended to leave your room completely untouched, but what were intentions in the face of the divine feeling of his god?

It took little more than five seconds for him to throw himself directly onto your bed, grinning more earnestly than he had done in quite a long time. The blankets were soft, and it all smelled so much like you. Venti let out a wistful sigh, burying his face in your pillow, imagining it to be you. Would you let him sleep here with you? Surely you wouldn't mind...

The hours continued to pass in quite a similar manner. Venti wandering around, opening every drawer and cabinet in search of remnants of you, completely giddy when finding something more personal.

He briefly wondered how much you knew about him, you seemed to know his name at least. He looked back fondly on the moment when you spoke it, how it sounded leaving your lips, even with that tone of disbelief. It seemed so unfair when reflecting, you probably knew quite a bit about him and yet he knew very little about you, that was something that needed to be rectified.

Venti could practically sense your presence before your hand even touched the door. It was comparable to feeling as if his whole purpose for existing was simply making itself known, enticing him to embrace it fully. Which was part of the reason why you had a pair of arms around you before you could even put one foot through the door.

"Your grace, it was sooo boring here without you." He whined, giving you eyes that displayed nothing but the fondest of sorrows.

There was something surreal about coming home to another person, something that felt almost unnatural about simply the idea of having someone waiting for you.

"What did you do while I was gone?"

It was an innocent question, strictly for curiosity’s sake instead of something that could be seen as accusing. Venti felt his face flush regardless.

"Ah- uh, well..." An appropriate excuse didn't come to his mind fast enough and the poor bard was left fumbling, trying to edge around giving away how he spent a majority of his free time admiring each and every one of your personal possessions.

You gave him a confused look in response. Although you weren't trying to be accusatory to begin with, it was hard to avoid that speculation now.

Deciding it was better to change the topic, not entirely sure you wanted to even know the answer at this point in light of that response, you let out a soft hum while closing the door.

"Well it's still early, but what do you want for dinner?"

Venti practically squeaked in surprise, eyes widening. "I'm supposed to be asking you that you know." He mumbled, discontented with how he was already failing at meeting your needs.

You stifled a laugh, "You don't know how to use the stove, and I highly doubt you know what a microwave is."

While he couldn't exactly argue with that, memories of this morning's creative breakfast flashing in his mind, it didn't mean he wasn't eager to learn.

"Teach me then, I don't want you to have to do anything. You've already had to be out all day, let me take care of it." The attempt at smooth talking fell a little flat, considering how he was still clinging to you at the door, but it was an admirable attempt.

Now the last thing you wanted to do after getting home was explain modern appliances to someone with absolutely no exposure to any of it, but it would be better for you to do so now instead of letting him try and figure it out when you weren't home, causing some kind of an explosion.

You gave him a small push, signaling for him to stop clinging on to you like a child, and he obliged, distancing himself with an apologetic laugh.

You walked to the kitchen without another word, and he followed close behind, eager to be as close as you'd allow him.

Once in the kitchen, you pointed to the big metal box with a bunch of strange looking dials. "This is a stove, spin this dial to turn on one of the burners and you can put a pot or pan on the top to heat it up.”

Venti watched while you demonstrated, turning it quickly on and off again, "It's probably the closest thing to a cooking pot you'll have, just remember to turn it off and don't burn my apartment down please."

He responded with a nod, seemingly completely enthralled by every word.

This time you pointed to the smaller metal box which was above the previous appliance, "This is a microwave, it's used to quickly heat up stuff. You just press the buttons for the amount of time you want it to heat something up."

You tried to mentally run through all the dangers that came along with allowing Venti to utilize these things, making mental notes on what to mention.

"Oh, and don't put metal in it, it will explode."

He gawked at you for a moment, trying to decide if that was a joke or not. Your serious expression did little to quell his worry.

You ran through various other appliances quickly. Toaster makes things hot, fridge makes things cold, freezer makes things colder. Venti's head was starting to hurt.

"And don't make any more fires outside, I'd prefer if my neighbors didn't call the cops for arson charges."

You hesitated for a moment in your next sentence, thinking really hard about whether it would really be a good idea to mention, eventually succumbing to the fact that it was better safe than sorry.

"Also, if there's an emergency while I'm out of the house, you can use the landline to call me." You gestured to the old, rather unused phone, sitting nicely on the counter.

"Only call if it's an emergency. Got it?" Venti nodded with a very bright smile that made you question what he may or may not consider an emergency. You honestly didn't know why you still had the phone in the first place, you had been meaning to cancel it for a while, but now didn't seem like the opportune time.

You wrote your number out on a sticky note and placed it next to the phone, taking careful note to write 'Only for emergencies!' underneath the number, not that you thought he would actually take the hint.

Feeling both rather tired of talking and physically tired from the workday, laying down seemed like a rather pleasant option, which you decided to do on the couch, stretching as Venti watched your changing facial expressions intently.

When you seemed relatively settled, without so much as a warning, he laid on top and sprawled his body across yours, not much different than a cat, though you were sure he would hate that comparison. Venti couldn't help but let out a content sigh, being so close to you, this was leagues better than simply laying on your bed.

"Venti," he perked up at hearing his name, giving you a lopsided grin as some hair fell in his face, "What's Teyvat— No, what's Mondstadt like?"

He could feel pride swelling at your curiosity.

"It's beautiful your grace, endless trees and grass. The wind is always kind and gentle. I've done my best to morph it to your preference."

Venti's heart fluttered as you brushed some of his hair away from his eyes, a pleasant feeling lingering where your touch had been. "I'd love for you to see it one day, I'd love for you to stay there with me. I could change it however you desire. Shape the land and clear the trees, redirect the rivers until every blade of grass is in its respective place."

You let out a hum trying to imagine it, the breeze and the dandelions, the ocean and lakes.

"I'd like to see it too."

Oh how those simple words made his heart sing. Just you and him in a realm of your creation, a nation of his reformation. How he'd love nothing more than to keep you there, all to himself. There was no denying that this was a pretty good substitute for that. He knew that every one of your followers in Teyvat would give up anything to be in this position, to feel your warmth so completely as he was doing now.

You found yourself slowly growing to accept the idea of this, of him. Slowly giving in to your natural instinct to simply appreciate this situation for what it was, that being the perfect opportunity to indulge in your favorite character.

You wrapped your arms around him, as he had done to you, giving into the feeling of having a god right there, ready and waiting for anything you would bestow upon him.

It was cute how his eyes fluttered close at the contact, embracing it fully. You almost wanted to voice how cute he looked, with that blissful smile.

You wondered briefly how long he would keep you there, content to simply rest atop you with no desire for anything further.

Making a quick mental checklist of all the things you still needed to get done today, it felt as if it was almost endless.

For now though, you were content. Satisfied with the situation you found yourself in and lacking the desire to cut it short.

Maybe this really wouldn't end up being so bad.

#genshin impact #sagau #genshin venti #venti x reader #genshin x reader #yandere genshin au #yandere genshin x reader #idk this just felt like a lot more filler than actual plot #i don't know how to keep a story moving guys I'm a oneshot author by heart #someone give me a conflict idea so i can do a rising action or smthn #I guess I'll just call this setting the foundation

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