#too painful to bandage them at the moment

[sadnymi]

「 ✦ midnight .✦ 」

[Lorenzo Berkshire x reader]

Summary: Enzo had been distant, a shadow of his usual charming self. But nothing prepared me for the sight of him at midnight, bloodied and pleading, at my window.

Warning: none-fluff

Words:1.5k

A rhythmic tapping jolted me awake. Disoriented, I fumbled for the lamp on my nightstand, blinking away sleep. The tapping came again, this time insistent, from the direction of the balcony window.

Sitting up, I rubbed the crust from my eyes and squinted through the glass. A dark figure stood there, silhouetted against the moonlit night. Panic surged through me, a primal fear taking hold.

"Enzo?" I whispered, my voice barely above a squeak. The figure shifted, revealing a mop of dark hair and a face I recognized all too well. Relief washed over me, battling the rising tide of concern.

Hurriedly, I unlocked the balcony door. "Enzo, what are you doing here?" I gasped, my voice edged with worry.

He offered a weak smile, his face pale in the moonlight. A crimson stain marred his eyebrow , sending a fresh wave of panic crashing down on me.

"Marlin!" I yelped, reaching out to touch the wound. He flinched away, wincing in pain.

"I'm fine, darling," he whispered, his voice raspy. "Just... needed to see you. Please."

He grasped my hand, his fingers cold against my skin. Before I could question him further, he pressed a quick kiss to my knuckles, sending shivers down my spine.

The blood on his face screamed otherwise. "Come on," I urged, ushering him towards the bed. "Sit down, let me clean you up."

He hesitated, his grip tightening on my hand. "No, no, I'm alright. Just stay."

Reluctantly, I let him settle onto the edge of the bed. My fingers brushed his hair, pushing it back from his forehead. "I'm not going anywhere, okay? I'll be right back."

He offered a weak nod, his eyes never leaving mine. My mind raced as I hurried to the bathroom, grabbing everything I could think of: bandages, antiseptic wipes, a washcloth. The image of Enzo, bloodied and vulnerable, fueled my every move.

Back at the bed, I knelt beside him, the urge to cradle him in my arms a constant battle with the need to treat his injuries first. "Alright," I murmured, my voice laced with concern, "let's see what we're dealing with."

My hand trembled as I began cleaning the blood on Enzo's face. Each swipe of the damp cloth revealed a fresh horror. The source of the bleeding became clear – a nasty gash above his eyebrow, and a deep gash across his temple already turning a frightening shade of purple, the source of the blood. Panic surged hotter with each new detail.

"What happened, Enzo?" I forced the words out, my voice choked back with a sob I desperately tried to contain.

He winced, his breathing shallow and labored. He met my gaze for a fleeting moment, then quickly looked away. The silence stretched, thick with unspoken pain.

"It was a fight," he finally mumbled, his voice raspy. "I almost killed the other guy. When his friends came looking for payback, I… I let them I didn’t even fight back."

My heart plummeted. Anger, frustration, and a deep, gnawing worry coursed through me. "I know you get into fights, Enzo," I said, my voice surprisingly steady despite the turmoil within. "But there’s something else you have keeping from me, something that landed you in this state..."

He reached out, his hand trembling slightly as he cupped my cheek. "I'm sorry, darling. I know you’re mad"

A stray tear escaped, tracing a warm path down my cheek. I brushed it away with the back of my hand, forcing a smile. "I get mad because you hide things, Enzo. Because you put yourself in danger. But I'm never mad at you. Never."

He leaned into my touch, a flicker of relief crossing his features. "It'll sting a little," I warned softly, picking up a bottle of rubbing alcohol and a fresh gauze pad. "Hold my other hand if you need to."

He squeezed my hand tightly, a weak smile playing on his lips despite the blood staining his teeth. "Okay," he rasped, his voice barely a whisper.

I began cleaning the wound on his eyebrow, wincing at his sharp intake of breath when the alcohol hit the raw flesh. He squeezed my hand even harder, his knuckles turning white. Through it all, he kept his eyes on mine, a silent apology reflected in their depths.

"Almost done," I murmured, leaning in and pressing a quick, gentle kiss to his lips. The taste of blood and something deeper, a metallic tang mixed with a hint of mint from his usual gum, ignited a spark of protectiveness within me.

Finishing with the cleaning, I plastered a bandage over the wound and leaned back. "There," I said, planting another kiss on his cheek, then his forehead. "All patched up, you big goof."

"Here," I said, tossing him a black t-shirt I recognized as one of mine. "Change out of this bloody mess. And just so you know, I'm stealing it back."

A playful glint returned to his eyes, a flicker of his usual cocky charm. "Anything for you, darling."

I locked my bedroom door with a decisive click. Turning back to Enzo, I met his gaze with a raised eyebrow. "You can stay the night," I said, my voice leaving no room for argument. "But nothing else. Papa's home."

A wry smile spread across his face. "Fine by me, beautiful. Think I can handle a night just cuddling."

Hurrying to the bathroom cabinet, I grabbed a bottle of water and a couple of aspirins, praying they would be enough to ease the throbbing pain evident in his face.

"Here," I said, offering him the medication. He took them with a grateful nod.

Putting the first-aid kit away, I bundled his bloodied clothes into the laundry basket. He stood by the nightstand, swallowing the pills with a grimace.

My heart ached for him. With open arms, I beckoned him closer. "Come here," I whispered.

A smile, hesitant but genuine, spread across his face. He crawled onto the bed next to me, the warmth of his body a welcome comfort. I wrapped my arms around him, burying my face in his neck, showering his cheeks and forehead with kisses.

"Alright," I murmured, "tell me everything. What's been bothering you these past few days?" My fingers gently traced circles through his hair, a calming touch.

He took a deep breath, his eyes locking with mine. "I had a fight with my father," he confessed. "The first one ever, I think. And then he said..." his voice trailed off, a tremor running through it.

I squeezed his hand in encouragement. "Said what?"

"He said he's afraid I'll turn out like my mother," he blurted out, his voice laced with a mixture of anger and hurt. "He apologized later, of course, but I can't stop thinking about it. This whole 'charming rogue' role feels so suffocating. What if he's right? What if I am like her deep down?"

My heart ached for him. "No," I said firmly, placing a hand on his cheek. "You're not a replica of your mother. Your father just loves you so much, he worries. And yes, she's your biological mother, but that doesn't define you. You and Mattheo, you're nothing like her. I heard stories," I continued, weaving a comforting narrative. "She wasn't always like that. Things happened, rough times that people deal with differently. But you, Enzo, you're braver, smarter, and stronger than she ever was."

A flicker of hope sparked in his eyes. "I love you," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "And I promise I'll always try to be good. For you."

Cupping his face, I leaned in and kissed him, pouring all my love and reassurance into the touch. "You don't have to promise anything," I murmured. "You're already good. And I'm so lucky to have you."

He returned the kiss, his hold on me tightening. "When I hit that boy earlier," he confessed, his voice shaking, "and saw the state he was in... I thought I killed him. It wasn't like me. The thought of that... of having that darkness inside me... I let his friends hit me. I guess I deserved the pain."

Tears welled up in my eyes, but I forced them back. "No, you don't deserve any of that," I said fiercely. "It's okay, Enzo. It's okay now. You heard me, right?"

He nodded silently, burying his face in my neck. I held him close, stroking his hair, a silent vow forming in my heart. I would be his anchor, his light in the darkness.

"One day, I'm going to marry you," he mumbled, his voice muffled against my skin.

I chuckled, unable to resist a playful jab. "Oh, I know," I teased. "You can't live without me."

He pulled back, a playful glint in his eyes. "Actually," he countered before I could continue, "no, I can't."

The seriousness in his gaze sent a shiver down my spine. "Now," he continued, a hint of mischief in his voice, "about what happened tonight? We can't let Matteo find out. He wouldn't understand. He'd go after those boys and leave nothing but dust."

I burst out laughing. Knowing Mattheo, it was absolutely true. "Don't worry," I assured him, wiping a tear from my eye. "Your secret's safe with me."

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

#slytherin boys #slytherin boys x reader #slytherin boys x you #fluff imagines #lorenzo berkshire imagine #lorenzo berkshire x you #lorenzo berkshire x reader #lorenzo berkshire #lorenzo berkshire fluff #louis partridge

[beba-780]

Everything will be fine

Summary: Kai takes care of Wyldfyre after escaping the Cloud Kingdom.

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- Lloyd, we can't abandon the monks and Euphrasia to their fate with Ras and those guys with scary wolf masks - Arin responded as he approached the helm of the Ship with Lloyd as they left the Cloud Kingdom.

- We need to create a new plan, Arin, clearly Ras has a new power, and that guy with smoke powers who used that strange Spinjitzu-type power is very strong. We need to create a new plan – Lloyd responded to his young apprentice while he tried to maintain his composure without having to remember his strange and terrifying visions of those guys with wolf masks.

He did not want to accept it, but seeing that his visions were true he bothered Lloyd too much, almost at the beginning of the fight he trembled with fear, but he had to forget his fears if he wanted to contribute well to the situation.

- AGH! HURTS! – Wyldfyre complained as he fell to the ground and held his leg in pain, it was obvious that that strange power that Ras's apprentice used seriously damaged his leg. Even some of the fabric of his pants was tattered and almost singed.

- Wyldfyre! – Kai was the first to arrive with Wyldfyre. He carefully managed to sit her up so he could better inspect her leg, and it was not a good view – Hey, calm down, calm down, let me check –

Kai revealed Wyldfyre's injured leg and as he feared, the wound was quite serious, red marks and burns were shown on almost his entire leg, that strange power that Ras' strange ally used managed to disintegrate almost all of Wyldfyre's boot.

- That... doesn't look good - Sora mentioned sheepishly as she looked at Wyldfyre's leg, even Riyu groaned in a worried manner.

-It's nothing... it doesn't look as bad as it seems... -Wylfyre tried to put on a tough face, she even tried to move his leg a little, but that was a serious mistake, moving his leg caused more pain.

Hearing that he kept making pitiful sounds, Kai quickly managed to find the first aid kit and took out bandages and medicines so he could stabilize Wyldfyre's leg a little while they arrived at the monastery. Since Zane was also unavailable at the moment, Kai, Nya, and Lloyd would be the only ones who could help Wyldfyre with his injury, at least with the little medical knowledge they had as Ninjas.

- Don't worry, everything will be fine... - Kai managed to calm her down a little by hugging her, which impressed Nya and Lloyd, since Kai has always been the first person to comfort them as a kind of father when one of them was hurt.

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After arriving at the monastery Kai tried to take Wyldfyre directly to the infirmary but she refused and demanded to be taken to Heatwave's stable, not wanting to hear any more of her tantrums, Kai listened to her and took her to Heatwave, Nya had to carry the necessary medical supplies to heal her while Lloyd took Zane to the monastery to receive the necessary repairs, even Sora offered to help Lloyd with Zane.

Right now Kai was bandaging Wyldfyre's injured leg, Heatwave was too worried to see the human girl she raised, as if she were her own child, being injured. But at least the dragon calmed down to let Kai finish properly bandaging Wyldfyre's leg.

- Ouch! – Wyldfyre complained after Kai tightened the bandage on her leg a little.

- I'm sorry - Kai quickly apologizes - But the bandage must be tightly wrapped around your leg, Wyldfyre -

Wyldfyre was lucky that his leg was not completely broken as many thought, but if he was seriously injured, as if that strange power of corrupted Spinjitzu had burned his skin almost completely to the bone, Zane may not be able to do a quick scan, but at least thanks to Nya he was able to find a good remedy to better treat Wyldfyre's wound. The bad thing was to see that even the poor wild girl was suffering from the pain, even though she tried to hide it, Kai knew that her injury would prevent her from walking for a long time.

At some point, Nya went up to the monastery to bring Wydlfyre something to eat so he could relax better. After all, she loved all kinds of food.

- Ugh! This sucks! I hate every time I get hurt but this is too much for me! - She complains as she now looked at her newly bandaged leg - That “smoke boy” is going to pay me! He will feel the heat of my flames! – His abrupt movement caused his leg to complain of pain and caused Wyldfyre to stop her speech while she tried to hold onto her injured leg.

- Calm down, Wyldfyre. I know how you feel, I also hate being hurt, but I promise you that this will happen soon - Kai approached Wyldfyre and helped her lie down comfortably next to Heatwave, who, by the way, had no intention of leaving her human girl.

- How do you know? – Wyldfyre confronts Kai, giving him an incredulous look – I bet you and the other ninjas weren't hurt as much as I am now, since you are all expert masters – Wyldfyre complains in an annoying way while crossing his arms.

- Of course we got hurt, Wyldfyre - Kai reprimands the girl, who only responded with a dissatisfied grunt towards the Red Ninja - Just because we are Ninjas, or teachers, doesn't mean that we are strong enough to avoid getting hurt in fight. Believe me, there were moments that I would have liked to avoid where my friends or my sister would have been seriously hurt, even I have been hurt, and I assure you that they were more serious injuries than the one you have now. There are worse things than having an injured leg –

Kai knew from his own experience what it was like to be seriously injured, how many times does he not remember the injuries he received after each battle, mission or unexpected adventure he has had to face after becoming a ninja, he even remembers the painful moments he suffered in his life long before he was a ninja. Wyldfyre may have grown up in the Wilderness, but she didn't have to face the dangers that Kai had to experience throughout his life.

He even remembers the times his friends got hurt after each confrontation. Kai always blamed himself when he saw you hurt, he told himself over and over again that he had to be more careful, faster, stronger to be able to save them and keep everyone safe. He even vividly remembered those moments when he would kill himself training to the point of exhaustion in order to perfect his fighting habits, and there were even times when his hands would bleed due to the pressure he put on himself.

Kai wants more than anything to find a way to prevent his friends from getting hurt, even he would give anything to forget those painful memories of seeing a member of his team seriously injured.

- Whatever - Wylfire murmurs, using a haughty and childish tone as he leans closer to Heatwave - I hate this - he moans as he tries to move his leg.

- You finished? – Nya suddenly responds as she arrives with a tray with some food and some tea.

Sighing, Kai turned to see his sister – Yes… luckily her leg is not broken, but if it took a while for her to heal –

- What's that? – Wyldfyre suddenly asks with interest when he sees the tray that Nya had.

- Just some food and tea, it won't heal it instantly, but it will take away some of the pain so you can be more comfortable - Nya mentions approaching Wyldfyre.

-I thought they had a magical tea that healed all wounds – Wyldfyre responded somewhat confused as she scratched her head.

-There are magical teas, but from our experience, it is better to use the normal ones and not the magical ones that make you experience crazy things – Kai exclaims when remembering his experiences with magical teas, even Nya had to agree.

Growling in frustration, Wyldfyre accepts the tray Nya brought and proceeds to reluctantly eat the appetizers first.

Kai motioned to her sister so she could leave him alone with Wyldfyre, Nya caught what her brother was trying to say and left Kai and Wyldfyre alone while she gave them her space.

- Hey - Kai began as he sat down next to him - Just because you're hurt doesn't mean we'll leave you out of our next missions, Wyldfyre. You have to rest and regain strength, and you will see that very soon you will return to action with us. Also...-stretching his arm towards the cup of tea served on the tray, Kai brought it to Wyldfyre - This is very effective for you - Kai smiled affectionately as he offered Wyldfyre to drink the tea.

With no other option, Wyldfyre accepted the cup of tea and drank some, it didn't have much flavor, but at least it left a relaxing feeling in his body.

- Everything will be fine, I promise you - using a confident tone and showing a look that made anyone around him feel safe, Wyldfyre could see confidence and security in Kai's eyes, perhaps he is the only person in the monastery who really I had more faith in her than anyone else.

Just seeing that comforting look from Kai made Wyldfyre completely lose all worry about her injury now.

From a distance, Nya saw the way Kai looked at Wyldfyre, it was like seeing a father and daughter, which reminded Nya of her childhood in her parents' blacksmith shop, Kai looked at her the same way and so did he did with Lloyd.

Nya knows that Kai has been the only person she has had in her life for as long as she can remember, and although she doesn't openly admit it, Kai was more like a father than a brother to Nya. Maybe it was because of the fact that they grew up together since their childhood, but Kai has been the only person who has raised her without anyone's help. Despite not knowing how to act like a real father, Nya already saw Kai as the only one father figure. He did the same with Lloyd, he still remembered those moments when Kai helped Lloyd with other activities that were not just training to be a ninja, he still remembers those moments when he saw Kai teach Lloyd to cook a little for him, when he He sometimes took him to Ninjago City Park, when he gave him candy, when he let him help him repair the ship, and when he took him to watch the sunsets over the roofs of some buildings.

Nya knew that Wyldfyre was very lucky to know Kai.

Seeing that Wyldfyre would be in good hands, she decided to go up to the monastery again to check on Lloyd and Zane.

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When Nya returned to the monastery through the elevator, she was able to find Lloyd in the living room. He looked exhausted, but that was understandable to Nya. Lloyd was sitting on the couch and had one of Master Wu's Spinjitzu scrolls with him.

- Hey - Nya called as she sat down next to her - How's Zane? –

- Good... - Lloyd answers, but his voice sounded exhausted - Sora helped me fix it and now she's just making some modifications to her program to make sure everything is okay -

- Well, one less problem to worry about – Nya mentions.

- Master Wu's scrolls show nothing about Shatterspin. Whatever that move was, there doesn't seem to be any record - frustrated, he throws the scroll onto the coffee table.

-Don't worry, we'll know something – despite trying to lighten the situation, Nya also seemed just as frustrated, but she didn't want to show it.

- By the way - Lloyd responds when trying to change the subject - How is Wyldfyre? –

- Better - Nya smiles - A little irritated, but it's okay. However, her leg will take several days to heal and she needs plenty of rest. Plus, Kai is taking care of her -

Lloyd sighed and leaned back on the couch – Well, luckily it wasn't too serious. She's lucky Kai is looking out for her -

- It reminds me of those days when Kai took care of us both when we got hurt. Do you remember what she did to you the first time you were hurt? – Nya fondly remembers those memories from the past in which her adventures were still simple.

Lloyd snorted as he remembered those days, they were days when Lloyd sometimes found it easier to cope with things - Yes... I fell off the deck steps of the Ship after tripping on a loose board, I hit both knees and one bled more than the other, Kai picked me up and took me to my room where he healed me and gave me several of the cookies that Zane had made - with affection, Lloyd remembers those times when he was still a child and lived with the others on the Ship.

- Or the time broken my arm when I was trying to repair one of the Ship's engines, Kai was the first to help me and almost yelled at Zane to take care of me immediately. He stayed by my side the entire time. And in compensation for not leaving me alone he said that he would do whatever I wanted for a week – despite mentioning that moment, Nya seemed to have a satisfying smile on her face.

- If I remember - Lloyd laughs - You literally made him your personal assistant in your projects, you stole the best of his food, you forced him to watch those cheesy movies that you and Jay watched and you forced him to go shopping with you - Lloyd could clearly remember the frustration that the Red Ninja experienced that week.

- Well, he brought it on himself by getting on my nerves when he tried to play the role of “mother hen” with me – Nya excuses herself, although in a funny way.

- Do you think everything will be okay? – Lloyd suddenly asks, as if he expected Nya's response to take away some of the weight he now carried on his shoulders.

-Yes – Nya didn't think about it too much, she just said it with complete certainty that she had – Yes, everything will be fine. You will see -

- I hope so… -

That day, everyone was resting, so that the next day they would have a real plan.

#lego ninjago #ninjago #kai jiang #kai #lloyd garmadon #kai smith #lloyd #ninjago kai #ninjago fic #ninjago fanfic #ninjago fanfiction #ninjago lloyd #ninjago nya #nya #nya jiang #nya smith #rgb siblings #rgb #ninjago rgb siblings #ninjago rgb #sora #ninjago sora #ninjago arin #ninjago wyldfyre #arin #wyldfyre #ninjago dragons rising 2 #ninjago dragons rising #ao3 fanfic #fanfic

[silvercap]

24. Bedridden or 66. Bedside Manner, with comfort/caretaking from the team? Leon's gonna need it... (can be a continuation of something else, or a standalone, up to you)

He definitely does 😭 (For this prompt list)

Bedridden/Bedside Manner

"Fuck," Leon hisses weakly, arching backwards into Piers' arms as Jill tears yet another of the barbed spikes free of his thigh, the sound coming out closer to a sob. His breaths come harsh in his chest, one hand squeezing Chris's meaty palm in a death grip where he's decided to lean into Leon's space from the edge of the dusty bed, the other clawing into Piers' arm where it's been wrapped securely over Leon's chest. He shudders, sweat dripping down a temple.

"One more," Jill says grimly, to which Piers subtly tightens his hold. She doesn't give Leon a chance to prepare himself, cutting deep into his leg and yanking the final spike out in a gout of fresh blood. Leon can only gasp, spasming.

"Got--got anything for the poison, yet?" he slurs, feeling the burn of it through his veins now that the overwhelming source of pain has dulled. He thinks someone responds, but then Jill clamps down hard on his leg to provide pressure and Leon can't stop himself from passing out entirely.

He comes to with a cough, blinking blearily at the sensation of a cool cloth against his forehead, a callused thumb so large it can only belong to Chris sliding gently beneath his eye to collect the tears that have fallen there. He's still slumped against Piers' solid body, shivering weakly despite the warmth his fiancé provides. Leon moans.

"Shh," Chris soothes from Leon's left, Piers' hand smoothing over his hair as he shudders involuntarily. "We've got you."

Another, smaller hand is propped under his knee to hold it up, white gauze and bloodstained bandages visible in his blurry vision when he glances down. He winces as Jill pulls the top layer tight, bare thigh pale where it sticks out from beneath the thin blanket thrown haphazardly over his legs. He's still wearing his jacket, the distant growl of BOWs audible outside of the shack they've crawled into for shelter.

"Piers," Leon croaks as Jill finishes what she'd been doing and gently tucks his injured leg under the blanket, pulling it up until the top edge is aligned with the neckline of his t-shirt. "P-Piers--"

"It's okay. I'm here," Piers murmurs in a low voice, holding Leon tightly when his body spasms for what feels like the hundredth time.

"Piers..."

He can't remember what he'd been about to say. Chris's hand slides back into his, squeezing as Leon's eyelids flutter. He stays like that for a moment, trembling--until Piers is helping him slightly more upright, the metal edge of a canteen meeting his lips. The water is cool and soothing enough that Leon can reopen his eyes, Jill's solemn face meeting his where she holds the canteen on its side. Chris is beside her, looking worried, but Leon doesn't have the strength to comfort either of them. He's starting to feel a little sick, if he's honest, the full weight of whatever had been in those spikes wreaking havoc on his system.

"Thanks, nurse Valentine," he rasps when Jill pulls away, mainly in an attempt to lighten the mood. If anything, it makes the lines on Chris's forehead even more pronounced, voice lacking in enough conviction to play off his condition. He sighs. "We should--keep moving."

"Absolutely not." Piers is firm, then softens. "There's no way you can stand without help, and we have no idea what the toxin might do to you. Just rest."

"He's right," Chris says softly, voice too gentle. His brown eyes are wide and watery when Leon manages to look, a forced smile on his face like he's trying to convince himself that it's real. Jill pats Leon's uninjured shin.

"Sleep it off, Kennedy," she says roughly but not unkindly as she sits down in a chair near his feet, in typical Jill fashion. As if following the order, Leon's muscles suddenly relax, the cottony haze in his mind becoming more pronounced as he sags into Piers' arms. He whimpers. Spasms.

"It's okay," Piers whispers, voice cracking. Leon doesn't have the energy to ask why. He reaches up blindly, hand getting caught in the blanket until he can free it to brush his fingers against Piers' jaw.

Unconsciousness takes him.

#idk if this fits the prompt ahahdhshs #whump #ask game #my fics #drabbles #<33 #might do a gentler one you got me thinkin now hehe

[toruslvt]

Thinking about overstimulate Gojo Satoru, who keeps whimpering and trashing around saying "Slow down" or "too fast can't take it" which resulting us to tie his hands above his heads FSFSGAHGSHAJAKSJSJ

⋆ mdni. + gn!reader, riding satoru to tears. ‹3

“stop being so whiney” you huff, struggling to contain the white haired erratic trashing underneath your body, straddling his hips. although you tell him to stop, you don’t really mean it, how could you when Satoru is a sight for sore eyes, all flustered, panting with those pretty puffy lips half open.

another whine comes out of him, looking up at you with pleading eyes, “feels so good, babe, I can’t think straight”

he continues, “slow down a bit, ple— a-ah, oh fuck...!” he cries, back arched and hands shaking, digging into the plush of your thighs, each smack of your ass on this milky thighs brings a sharp inhale of air to Satoru’s lungs, his cock twitching and drooling so much precum into your hole the sound is disgustingly loud.

if Satoru were to be honest, he doesn’t want you to stop, he’s too deep into the pleasure borderline in pain his mouth just splurts whatever words come to his brain, torn into slamming his hips up to fuck your pretty tight hole, or push you away and get a moment to breath and regain a bit of control. with your boyfriend there was no in between of him mercilessly fuckin’ you to tears, or you making him cry instead.

“stay still” you hiss, attempting to push his hands away from your hips, your waist, thighs, wherever his slender fingers found purchase.

yet all your words fall to deaf ears, “baby....! please, no more!” Satoru cries again, toes curling and almost kicking in the bed at the sublime, painful pleasure.

you curse low, considering the current situation was not going anywhere, so you slide back slightly, —continuing to bounce on his cock so hard Satoru’s groans and whines grew louder, blindly reaching for his eye bandages and struggling to wrap them around his wrists, and then to the headboard that rhythmically squealed under your movements.

“k-kinky” he croaks, an attempt of a laugh bubbling in his chest but quickly replaced by a loud moan, head tossed back as your hole sucked another orgasm out of the blue eyed spent cock.

“if you still have energy to joke around then you’re not fucked enough”

#its been a while waaa sorry for taking so long #𐔌᭥ᩙ༉ #gojo satoru x reader #satoru x reader #satoru smut #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru #gojo satoru smut #gojo x reader #gojo smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gn reader

[moonlesslights]

Miguel O’hara in Love

Headcanons.

━━━━━━ ✿ 🕷️ ❀ ━━━━━

A/N: I was really looking forward to write this, because I just can’t get this whole idea out of my head.

Warnings: Basically none, a little bit of angst maybe?, some smut references and depictions. Miguel being Miguel. Kinda obsessive (?)

This text is based in that frase of Joe Goldberg: “There’s not a line, in the world, that I wouldn’t cross for you”. So be prepared.

Enjoy, my loves. Every comment or request is welcomed! 🤍

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Miguel was curious of you from the very moment he met you. Such a unique presence among all the others.

You had been bitten just a month ago. And it was hard for you. He saw you struggle, falling over and over again, training till exhaustion, fighting to be on the level of the others.

And the worst part of it all, was the guilt coming to attack him with every side eye Jessica gave to him. “If you weren’t going to help her, you should have let her alone.” The woman had whispered while both of them looked at you fighting to climb another building. Miguel knew she was right. He was the one who insisted in bringing you immediately after they found you (only a couple of days after the bite), even when Jessica insisted to give you time for you to figure it out alone. Miguel wasn’t having it, and now… “She’s been at it for the whole morning.” The woman pursed her lips, shaking her head.

What Jessica didn’t quite know was that Miguel hadn’t left you alone all this time… He wasn’t good at talking, that was true. He wasn’t good at showing his support with words, but that didn’t mean he didn’t care.

You let out a pained groan when you finally plop on the concrete of the building’s rooftop. Every single muscle of your body aches and you can fell your heart pounding harshly against your ribcage, making it feel like every breath that makes it to your lungs it’s just a mere miracle.

The weight of the presence of someone standing beside you forces you to blink out of your thoughts. Tiredly, you look up, finding Miguel's mask glaring back at you with a deep frown you can make out of the way his eyes curve.

He holds a white little package on his right and he hands it to you before finally sitting down without making a single sound. It had all started like a little game between the two of you: You pretend you don’t see his figure hovering above a building while you train, or his silhouette watching you getting back to The Society place safely. You also pretend you don’t know it’s him who leaves bandages and painkillers over your bed every day with a little chocolate next to it. And he pretends he doesn’t know that you know.

You cross your legs and smile when you open the small box on your hands, smelling the sweet scent of warm and fresh food. You also take notice of how he changed one of the things he brought you last time, you didn’t have the heart to tell him, but you were sure now he definitely noticed you didn’t like it.

“Eat.” He orders and you are too tired to remark his tone of voice with a roll of your eyes. So you nod, bringing a big spoonful of pasta and vegetables to your mouth, thanking him with a big smile. Smile he doesn’t return. He never does anyway. But now it’s not like always. He’s pissed. “When was the last time you ate?”

You look straight ahead, avoiding his gaze. You swallow, slowly, feeling his eyes burning on the side of your head.

“Mhm… Not long ago, no.” You answer, mumbling while you get more food into your mouth. Miguel raises an eyebrow.

“Training this much without any nutriments won’t do anything good for you…”

“Training this much won’t do anything anyway.” You sigh, keeping then the fork between your lips. Miguel wishes to say something but he can’t find the words, he can’t order his thoughts inside his head to place them on his tongue and tell you just how much you have improved since the first day, so he gladly receives your bright eyes turning to him when you seem to remember: “But I finally climbed this building, see? Without using any web, only my spider fingers.”

The man nods at you waving playfully at him. The determination in your eyes even when your whole body wanted to give up, even when you know you’re still not close to go on a mission by yourself (or with anyone else), even when you probably couldn’t even sleep fine because of the sore bruises, the determination in your eyes didn’t flatter.

That made him feel something deep is his hands, a tingle he couldn’t control. And he hated it.

“Tomorrow at seven.” He sentences, standing on his feet again.

You frown, raising big eyes at him. The brightness in them when the weight of his words hit you destabilizes him.

“For real?”

“Yes.” He looks away. “If I don’t train you you’re not getting anywhere.”

His comment goes unnoticed for the excitement running all along your body.

“Ok.” You nod, trying to look professional but failing miserably.

He grunts in response, soon jumping off of the building and losing among all of the city chaos. In some minutes he would be back at the Society lobby. You… An hour. Give or take.

Training with Miguel was nothing but… Hell.

No, it actually wasn’t. You expected you could say that to make people thing you were having it hard, but he insisted on starting with the basics… basics that you already felt like being good at.

Still, climbing had become easier within the first week of training with him. The tips and advices he insisted you to follow helped you thinking of it more like a game than a must do.

Swinging was still a tricky one. You used to lose your balance when the demanded velocity was too much. Panic rushed over you, feeling like you would crash against a window or a fucking person, or another spider doing their own training.

“Trust your senses.” Miguel said to you every time you fell, and every time you death glared at him for that. He didn’t have one of the most important senses for spider people and he still managed to be better than anyone you could have known. You had them all, and they all seemed to be a mess when you tried to use them.

Soon enough, Miguel learned about a way to motivate you: Rewards. Most of the time was food, some others, the promise of letting you rest for more that five minutes was enough. For a week now, it had been a little bit different.

History. You loved it. And you changed any delicious and tasty food for hours listening to Miguel explaining everything about the multiverse and the tangled webs between all of you. He had told you about his first travels to other Earths at least three times, but you couldn’t seem to get tired.

You might not tell him how much his voice soothes you after a long day out, but it wasn’t necessary, he could see it. On the other hand, he definitely would never tell you how he glanced at you, completely asleep after another history session, memorizing every breath, every mole and freckle, counting every single one of your eyelashes like the stars on the sky above you.

No. You would never find out about that.

Today was supposed to be just like any other day: quiet, calm and premeditated. Nothing out of the routine you and Miguel had adopted for the past four weeks.

But with you, things were never that easy. Boredom was a dangerous thing for you, Miguel had learned it by now. The hard way. If something became not enough exciting for your restless self, you would look for that spark of adrenaline at any cost. It was part of your determination. Heart of a lion. He knew that. But it didn’t change the fact he would have to save you from breaking a few bones every once in a while.

“I’m sorry” You would say after he dropped you on the safe floor again. He would turn to look at you, fire running up his veins. Every time he wanted to yell at you, to snap and tell you it was the last time you do something like that. And every time he would sigh, pressing both finger on the bridge of his nose, finally grunting in a low voice:

“Desobedeciste deliberadamente.” A month was enough for you to know exactly what those words meant.

“I know.”

“You could have hurt yourself.”

“I know…” Then the bright eyes. Always the bright eyes. “But I have to try, I can’t depend on you forever. Getting hurt it’s just part of the way.”

He hated you were right. He lost count of how many broken ribs he got on his first years, of how many scars he still hides under his suit. Eventually, you would have to learn to stand up even if you’re bleeding. Even if you’re dying.

He is not mad at you for disobeying, that’s bullshit. He admired that of you, actually. You don’t act by fear, you do not fear him. You follow your heart even when you know you could get in trouble for it. No, he’s mad because every time he catches you before you hit the ground, all he can think about is that there’s going to be a moment where he won’t be there to do it. And the sound of your body crashing against the concrete, of your pain, would follow him till the darkest moments of the night, where he curses the day you’ll scream his name and he will be too far away to hear it.

“I want to change my reward for today.” You smile at him, both of your hands behind your back, making him suspicious of your teasing voice.

“You’re not going anywhere with Hobie.” He responds in a neutral voice, starting to walk in front of you.

You roll your eyes, shaking your head before getting in front of him and starting to walk backwards so you could keep facing him.

“It’s not that.” You insist. He doesn’t answer and you know that’s his way of telling you to go on. You sigh. “I want to see you without your mask.”

That makes him stop dead on his tracks. He tilts his head, questioning you with curious eyes. That’s all you wanted? No, you wanted that? Why?

Were you really that bored?

“I feel like everyone here has seen you at least one time, except for me. And it’s not fair.” You got a point on that. He spends most of his time training you, you share almost every meal together, he’s the last person you usually talk everyday because you’re too tired to do anything other than going to your room and sleep. You have spent entire days with him, you have cried and made a mess of yourself in front of his presence, and you didn’t even know his face.

You can deny the sting of irritation you get every time Hobie or Gwen, or any other come talking about what they said during the meeting before a mission, meetings where, you had learnt, Miguel used to take off his mask. Peter told you it wasn’t that big of a deal. You wanted to punch him.

“If that’s what you want.” Miguel crosses his arms, tilting his head at you. “Now go tra-…”

You were gone before he could even finish his sentence. He sees your figure going around the building he chose for this particular session. Your swinging had gotten better over the last weeks and the confidence you had in yourself had also been improving, showing your true strength for him to see.

Jessica insisted on you being ready to train at the top levels with the others inside The Society training center, or at least to try. But Miguel profusely refused. He had designed many of the levels to train there, he knew the damage they could cause to someone not prepared to face them.

He blame it on his sense of responsibility over you the fact that he denied any attempt to put you on an unnecessary risk, but deep down, he knew that from the moment he stepped in front of you while you cried for that death he knew all too well now, and then observed how you wiped your tears and showed him your fists, ready to fight him despite everything… He was fucked.

You were the little thing he decided to protect even if it costed his life. The little thing that trusted his claws to hold at her, that puts its life on the line without a second thought. It is not his fault to have never experienced anything like this, to don’t know what to do, to act like a fool, to refuse to lose it… How they cannot understand?

“Done.” You jump in front of him, getting him out of his thoughts.

He looks up, seeing all of the targets on the building covered by a good layer of web. Your precision could be better, but you’re getting at it.

He sighs. He turns to face you completely before ordering his nanotechnology to uncover his face. Dark wavy hair falls onto his temples, brown skin glimmers under the heavy sun above you, full lips press against each other and two cold brown eyes glare down at you.

When you don’t say anything, he raises an eyebrow at you.

“Is this what you wanted? Are you happy now?”

You nod without waiting for another question.

“I just wanted to see your eyes.” You answer confident, smiling softly at him.

It is enough to say he never wore his mask on around you ever again.

Miguel O'Hara isn’t good in what emotion management respects.

He knows it, but he doesn’t have the time or care to try to do something about it.

It wasn’t that big of a deal…

Yeah, it wasn’t that big of a deal until one specially busy morning where he couldn’t make it to your first training, he went on looking for you… And he couldn’t find you.

He went to your room, your favorite places; he went looking all around the city, praying to find you just jumping above some buildings. But you were nowhere to be found. And it wasn’t until one Peter took mercy on him that pointed the worst place to be pointed: The training center.

With his heart going a thousand miles per hour, he started to look for you inside the complex. And when he caught a glimpse of Jessica looking up with a proud smile, he knew exactly where you were.

“She’s doing even better than I could’ve imagined. You’re a great mentor, Miguel.”

“Why is she here?” He answered immediately. Jess raised an eyebrow at him, confused by the uneasiness on his voice.

“Does that really matter? Look at her, Miguel!” She pointed at you with her extended hand. “Aren’t you proud of her?”

Of course he was. But what he couldn’t stand was someone else messing and taking choices over the one and only thing he has. So instead of answering her question, he sentenced: “Don’t ever get close to her again.”

“Miguel…”

“You can mess around with any other, but there is a fucking line, Jess. You chose yours, and I respect them. Don’t mess with mine.”

When he finally appeared in front of you, you smiled brightly at him. He looked like any other day, completely unfazed and with a calmed expression you were so used to see by now.

“Time to call it a day, don’t you think?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. You were sweating, you arms were trembling and you could barely control your breath by now, and still… You shook your head.

“I want to try this level one last time.” He was ready to talk you out of it but your pleading eyes made him look down at Jess, who, with a single movement, made him understand what she was talking about.

“Fine, but I’ll be with you every step of the way, got it?” His frustration made you giggle when you nodded.

You didn’t make it till the end of the level, but you tried, and that was all that mattered to you. To Miguel, having been able to take you to the wall before you crashed against a crystal under you was the main thing that mattered.

It had been a whole experience, but it remained like that. Enough time at least for him to push his way of react behind him. Until something made it snap again.

His eyes fly to all of the cameras in front of him, fixing his pupils in whatever screen he could catch a glimpse of your suit.

The threat they were expecting for your first mission ended up being a lot more aggressive and capable than hoped. You and your partner had already received a few good hits by the time Miguel reached for the Call button.

“How are you?” Is the first thing you hear when you press ‘answer’.

“Never better.” You reply, smiling at the interface of your pretty boss clenching his jaw.

“Need help?”

You immediately shake your head. “Not at all, we’re managing just fine.” Your figure distorts while you swing around. Heavy steps following you up close. “I gotta go, Miguel. See you back at home.”

“No, wai-…” He widens his eyes, trying to reach you before you end the call. His fists tighten and his eyes close, fighting to keep himself calm.

But our man can’t catch a break, because as soon as his breath starts to get back to its normal speed, a camera showing on one of the screens burst out with a big clatter, forcing his eyes open only to see his worst fear take form in front of him.

You were struggling against the anomaly, kicking your feet in the air and trying desperately to get his hands off your neck. Your partner was nowhere to be seen. You appear to lose you patience when you stop fighting and instead shoot webs to the creature’s eyes. The anomaly maddens, and throws you against the next building on the street.

Miguel's eyes follow your body across two cameras, watching in horror the blood dripping from your mouth when you cough after the blow, struggling to get on your feet again.

His hands move quicker than he can process, bringing all the information about the Earth you were on for him to see.

“Miguel.” Jessica calls from behind.

“Where the hell did you send her?” He whispers, reading the screen displayed. “I told you she wasn’t ready to go.”

“Miguel, look.” She insists, this time with a more demanding voice.

But the man can’t think of anything else more than you bleeding. Alone and injured.

“You said it was an easy one.” He growls in a low and dangerous voice.

“I’m…”

“I told you she wasn’t ready!” He snaps, looking back at her. His fangs pinch on his lower lip, so hard he can feel a drop of scarlet liquid running down his chin.

And it’s not until Jess takes a step back and Lyla calls his name that he realizes the way his claws had ripped the metal in front of him.

And then… A call.

He blinks out of his trance, looking up at the screen with your name on it. He hits ‘answer’ and your dirty suit and scratched face make an appearance.

His red eyes relax at the sight, returning to those soft brown irises and dark pleased pupils reserved only for you. He hides his fangs and his claws are no longer nowhere to see. Just you. It was just you again. And you were okay.

“Miguel, look!” You smile at him, pointing the camera on your watch for him to see your partner finishing to tie up the anomaly. “We got it!”

“Yeah, yeah, I see.” He can’t help but let out a small glimpse of a smile over his lips, nodding at your excitement.

“Oh, you’re smiling. Wait for me to come back, I wanna see it in person.” And just like that, his smile is gone.

“Don’t take any longer. Both of you, come back as soon as possible.”

And with that, the call is ended once again, leaving him in a room with heavy air and thick silence. He jumps off of the platform, still glaring at Jessica in silence.

“You know that wasn’t right.” She whispers. “The way you’re acting it isn’t right, Miguel.”

He shakes his head, slowing his movements until he remains still just a few feet away from the entrance.

“You don’t know what it’s like.” He murmurs.

“Oh, now I don’t know?!” She opens her mouth with indignation, but Miguel doesn’t alter.

“It’s not like that and you know it.” He hisses. “I have lost everything in this world. I am utterly alone. And even between us, there a strings that doesn’t tangle. You have a husband and a soon to come baby, a family that awaits for you at home, but what do I have, Jess?”

The woman, for the first time, remains silent.

“I have her. I only have her.” He says. “Not a single thing in this world belongs to me but her. Everything else have been taken away from me, everything I once had has disappeared: my job, my life, my normal life. If she’s ripped from my hands, I have nothing left. And I cannot keep fighting for a life I don’t want to live. This is not only for her, Jess. If I lose her, I will tear the universe apart with my own hands.”

A single shiver ran down her spine, watching Miguel exiting the complex to find you arriving almost at the same moment.

She watched how his threat takes meaning when you wrap your arms around him and his eyes brighten at the sound of your laugh.

She knows that if they ever were to lose that light, the whole multiverse would dim with them.

Miguel wanted to own you.

He wasn’t good at hiding it.

His hands would come to your hips, grabbing your tights or caressing your waist under your clothes.

Your scent would drive him into his animalistic side at every given moment. Until the point he would have to step meters away from you during the meetings in order to keep himself from the smell of your hair and your soft skin.

But when he didn’t keep himself from you, he would come from behind you, embracing you with his whole body. His face would bury in the curve of your neck, sending shivers with his tongue coming out, tracing a single line till reaching your ear, where he would whisper what he wants, where he would ask you to let him touch you.

When you say yes, he would drop his head and sink your fingers on your tender skin, pressing his hips against your body when you throw your head back, allowing him to do as he wished so with you, to mark you as his as many times as he wanted.

“Miguel…” You sigh this time, feeling his hands clinging at your suit, desperate to touch your skin instead.

He had just returned from a mission that had kept him away from you three days. You had imagined he would’ve returned tired and ready to sleep for fifteen hours, but instead he took you straight into his bedroom and pushed you against the wall, where he now holds you still with both of his arms.

“Take it off.” He whispers, tugging again at your suit. He was being nice this time, and you thank him internally for that. You don’t have the strength to ask Lyla for another suit.

You complain with a happy humming, letting your body fully exposed before him except for your panties still covering your ass and pussy.

The man switches off his own suit, letting you see up close the tent under his boxers. His fingers grasp at your thighs, forcing your legs open for him. Two of his digits run along your folds over your panties for around ten seconds before he decides to tore away your undergarment and place his hand back at your sex.

You would have complained about his behavior but his fingers pressing down on your clit rip only a moan out of your throat. He plays with your sensitive bundle until you’re wet and seconds away from an orgasm he pretends to steal away when he stops his movements.

“No, please…” You cry out, your legs threatening to give up.

“Shhh, patience, mi amor, I’m not done yet.” With one hand he pushes you up, forcing you to wrap your legs around his neck for support before he starts eating you out like a starved man.

You tighten your tights around his head, almost screaming at your over sensitive pussy being stimulated even more, with his tongue pushing in and out for a while until he takes it to your clit again, sucking in, ripping another hard cry out of you. You are so close. And when he finally joins in two of his fingers to curve inside of you, it’s your end.

You scream his name, clenching around his digits, making him growl enough to feel the vibration running down your skin. He guides you through all of it until you finally seem to catch your breath again.

But then, he takes out his fingers and drops his boxes to the floor. His dick throbbed painfully, making him hiss when he stroke it a few times before pressing against you, chest to chest, and bottoming out all the way with a single thrust.

“Fuck, Miguel!” You throw your head back as he does the contrary, sinking his fangs into your skin, trying not to lose control.

“May I move?” He asks, breathing heavily on your skin.

You nod.

“Yes, yes, please move.” He groan in pleasure at your words, starting to move your hips in and down to match the rhythm of his.

You wrap your arms around his neck, moaning sweetly against his ear while he pick up the pace. Soon enough, only the sound of skin slapping on skin could be heard around you, with nothing but your moans and gasps indicating him where he had to thrust, and his deep growls showing you how close he was.

“Cum for me.” He says, pushing your back back to the wall with his hand around your neck, squeezing you under his fingers. “I wanna see you cum.” He demands, making of his pace nothing but a mess of thrusts.

He was so close, he just needed…

“Miguel!” Your eyes roll to the back of your head, letting out desperate whimpers when your legs tremble around him and your walls clench around his cock, sending him so high he has to bite you again to avoid a throaty moan escape from him.

You could barely begin to feel your toes again when you feel him tightening his grip around you before walking out to the bed.

He was ready for the next round.

…

Thank you so much for coming all this way!

PD: I know Miguel fangs have paralyzing venom but let’s just pretend he can choose when to use it and when don’t.

This might not be good but I had the idea of this thread of story and I just wanted to write it.

I hope you have at least enjoyed some of it.

Love y’all. Sending a lot of love. See ya. <3

PD2: I’m trying to work now on a Sub!Miguel thing. It may be still a couple of days from it, but I want to be good. And I haven’t decided if it would be just porn or porn with plot. So let me know!

PD3: I’ll be doing cleaning and correction between today and tomorrow.

#miguel ohara x y/n #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o’hara #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara x you #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel ohara smut #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara smut

[neo-nomatrix]

In a world of boys, he’s a gentleman

Luke Castellan x Apollo kid!reader

word count: a little over 1k

summary: you’ve had your heart broken many times, maybe the Hermes boy will be different

You have only ever wanted to be loved. For whatever reason you haven’t had much luck. Sure, there were many guys.

Callum from Ares. The only thing hotter than him was his temper.

Ryan from Hephaestus. He would forge copper to make you jewelry, little did you know three other girls had the same gift.

Ezra from Athena. Always thought he was so much smarter and better than you. Made you want to shoot your arrow straight at him.

Aiden from Hermes. A liar who couldn’t take anything seriously.

Elliott from Ares. Was dared by Callum to lock you in a dark room. And he actually listened.

Being the child of Apollo had its perks, but it more often had downsides. Your least favorite being your ability to fall in love so easily. After Elliot you swore off falling in love. A pain even you couldn’t heal. You couldn’t understand why nothing seemed to work out for you, you were a dreamboat!

A beautiful daughter of Apollo who glowed like the sun. Not only were you his daughter, you were his favorite, the hundreds of freckles on your face proved it. You were kind and generous, always willing to take in an injured camper from dusk to dawn. Your smile quite literally lit up a room. Perhaps you were too nice? Maybe they thought they could take advantage of your kindness?

Whatever the reason was doesn’t matter. You decided to take a page from your aunt Artemis’ book. No more boys, no more falling in love. Things will be easier this way. You know it.

You should’ve been at the bonfire with everyone else. You chose to skip it tonight because you wished to be alone, at the archery range. Maybe you’d earn another freckle if Apollo saw you practicing your already perfect shot. Luke should’ve been at the bonfire too, singing with your half-siblings and roasting marshmallows.

“Hey! I need some help!” A deep, painful cry said.

Immediately worried, you turned around and saw Luke Castellan holding his abdomen. You immediately run over to him, taking his arm over yours and getting to your cabin as soon as possible. You decided the infirmary was too far and you could use the cot in your cabin.

You slam through the cabin door and lay him on the cot in the middle of the bunk beds. “Lay down.”

You pull up his blood stained orange shirt to reveal a large gash on the side of his toned stomach. You held your hand on his abdomen for a moment to assess what happened. A second degree burn and large slices, as if by a horn, caused this.

“How did this happen?” You ask as you start to transfer some of the pain to a potted plant, causing it to wilt.

“Accident with a hephaestus kid, wrong place, wrong time I guess,” He says slightly wincing.

“I can take most of the pain but it’ll still take a while to heal,” You explain.

“Weren’t you supposed to be at the bonfire, leading a song with the rest of your cabin?” He asks.

“I could ask you the same thing, wandering around the blacksmiths. You know those things they make are pretty hot right?” You scoff at him.

“Yeah I guess I do now,” he rolls his eyes.

You begin to bandage the wound and give him a slice of bread. “Bread? What the hell is this gonna do?” he questions.

“My sister Melody made it, it can heal the burns for the most part,” you say.

“Aren’t you the girl who dated Aiden?” He asks bluntly, taking a bite of the bread.

“That’s none of your business,” You roll your eyes.

“If you ask me-” he begins to say before you cut him off.

“I’m not.”

“He was an idiot. All those guys were. I mean seriously, didn’t anyone teach them how to treat a pretty girl?” He continues, not fazed by you interrupting him.

“All those guys? You know about them?” You question.

“I guess. I mean after word got out about that shithead Elliot I did some asking,” he shrugs. You frown at the mention of Elliot.

“Whatever, they’re all in the past. No more guys for me,” you tell him.

“You shouldn’t give up entirely, these guys are stupid. There’s someone out there who deserves you, trust,” He assures you.

“Oh yeah? Tell me when you meet him,” You laugh.

“I think i know a guy, actually,” He responds, sitting up slightly.

“Oh yeah? Do tell.”

“Well, he’s tall, tan, and goddamn gorgeous. Has these soft brown curls, and I heard he’s the best swordsman at camp. Perfect for the best archer,” He explains to you, smiling.

“You seem to be fond of him, maybe you should go date him,” You joke.

“Nah, I think he likes this girl from Apollo. Kind, generous, beautiful, best healer and archer around,” He locks eyes with yours, darting between your eyes and your lips.

He holds your face in his hand, circling his thumb. His shirt rides up exposing his stomach and bandages.

“You like what you see?” He teases.

“You’re an idiot,” You smile.

“That seems to be your type,” he shrugs and knits his brows.

Before you can say another word he presses a kiss against your lips, moving them softly against yours. One of his hands stays on your neck while the other ventures down to your waist and then the chair you sat in. He pulls the chair closer to him and puts his hand back on your waist. You move one of your hands to his knee and the other to right beside him, leaning in closer.

“Fuck, you’re amazing,” He’s whispers into the kiss.

You smile at him before pausing. “The bonfire’s almost over, maybe you should head back,” you say.

“Yeah probably,” he gives you one last hard kiss followed by another few pecks.

He stands up and steadys himself, the injury clearly still pains him. He starts to walk away but before he can leave he turns back to you and presses a few more kisses against you.

“Okay, I’m done. y’know for now,” he smirks.

“You’re welcome anytime,” You laugh and he leaves. He gives you two looks before exiting.

Maybe you’ll give this boy one more chance.

#pjo x you #luke castellan #luke pjo x reader #luke castellan x reader #pjo x reader #luke pjo #percy pjo #pjo series #pjo fandom #pjo #pjo tv show #percy jackson #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson and the olympians #luke castellan x you

[ladadiida]

𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

heavily injured from a battle in the xianzhou luofu, you thought it would be the first and last time you see your stellarmate—but then you wake up in his arms, with him treating your wounds despite showing signs of disinterest in your bond when you first met.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 soulmate au, angst, unrequited love, mentions of blood and injury descriptions, possessiveness, blade's pov, him just taking care of you with a sprinkle of angst

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 stellarmate = soulmate (inspired from stellar jade so original i know) this is actually from the blade fic that i plan on writing but this can be read as a standalone! also, if you get the ts reference in this we are automatically besties. may blade wanters be blade havers

𝐰𝐜 1.8k

soaking the dirty piece of cloth in the cold water, blade let the icy liquid gather in the fabric before lifting it out and wringing it dry until it became nothing but an improvised damp towel.

it wasn't even guaranteed that it was clean enough to be put on your forehead, since the cloth was only ripped off from your dirtied skirt. however, he had no choice but to use it in the end. your body went into a shock after losing too much blood in a battle between you and some mara-struck soldiers, resulting into a high fever.

with the moon positioned at its highest point in the night sky, blade guessed that it was already midnight, meaning that he hadn't caught a wink of sleep ever since he fled the xianzhou with your unconscious body in his arms and warped to a planet he first thought of. this was nothing new. he could stay up all night and his body wouldn't feel anything at all.

blade approached your resting figure in the small cave you were both currently residing in. observing your face for a moment, which was formed in a deep frown, he brushed away the stray hairs out of your face as carefully as he could, then placed the damp cloth on your forehead.

your fever wasn't going down throughout the evening, with your body covered in sweat and hastily wrapped bandages. your shoulders were bare since your most grave injury was a stab wound near your heart, caused by a sharp blade of a mara-struck soldier, and so he was forced to rip open the top part of your shirt to stop the bleeding.

beside your now wrapped wound was none other than your mark. your stellar mark. blade can only stare at it. even when he was placing a bandage over your wound, he didn't dare touch the area where the mark rested on your skin. until now, he was still in disbelief over the fact that the aeons gave him a counterpart, his other half. after all the torment and pain, he, of all people, was blessed with a stellarmate.

he went over to the bonfire in the middle of the cave, where he was boiling medicinal herbs with water using a bowl he made out of stone. years worth of travelling between planets made him gain knowledge of which food to eat or which plant is safe to intake. emerald-iii wasn't a foreign land to blade; he had visited the planet before twice, accompanied by kafka.

speaking of his companion, blade thought back to the xianzhou while waiting for you to wake up and for the medicine to finish cooking. she must be looking for him right now, maybe even asked silver wolf to track him down. your astral express friends might be searching for you too.

he closed his eyes. the image of you lying in your own pool of blood appeared in his mind. blood was also dripping down the side of your mouth, and your eyes were already starting to close when he found you. the pain and rage and fear he felt all over his body was nothing compared to his never-ending death. and he felt his mark burning too, wanting to seek revenge to the people who hurt what was his, wanting to kill them clean with his broken—

"b—lade?" your broken voice came out in a pained wheeze. you coughed shortly after, throat dry and parched. blade turned around and looked at you. your eyes were barely open, but he can see your confusion and distress. "you're...h-here?"

"fool. don't try to talk. you are currently in a weak state." he scolded, glowering at you with his crimson eyes narrowed in slits.

you shook your head repeatedly, slowly lifting your shivering arms and wrapping them around yourself. "i-it hurts, blade..." you complained as tears lined up your eyes, fingers brushing against your wounded shoulder, "...and it's c-cold."

blade gave you a blank stare. he didn't know what to say to you. it was the first time you talked to each other properly, and the first time you were alone together. but it seemed like you were in a state of delirium, seeing that you weren't scared of expressing yourself.

you whined while sniffing, "so cold...why is it so cold?"

he sighed in defeat and shrugged off his tailcoat, leaving him in only bandages wrapped around his torso. he scooted over to you and covered your body with his coat. "we are in emerald-iii, therefore, the weather is constantly changing. endure it while i finish the medicine."

"medicine?" you asked curiously, pulling his coat up to your face.

blade clicked his tongue in annoyance. "one more question and i will abandon you here."

you were silent for the next minutes as you patiently waited beside him. he removed the stone bowl from the fire, and saw that the water has turned a greyish green due to the medicinal herbs. to further melt down the remaining floating leaves, he gave the liquid a quick stir by moving it in a back and forth motion.

bringing it up to your lips, he commanded, "drink."

moving your head forward, you sipped from the bowl, but you immediately coughed it out. after recovering from the series of coughs, you let out, "it's bitter—!"

"you dare complain when i boiled these herbs for hours just so they become pure enough to consume." blade snapped impatiently, "do you wish to be well or not?"

you nodded quickly, not wanting to anger him any further. "okay. i'll drink it."

it took you a few more tries before you get to take all the medicine down your throat, your face scrunched in disgust by the time you finished drinking it.

without warning, blade scooped you up and placed your head against his shoulder. he started taking off your bloodied bandages, and once it was all removed, he examined the wound. he already cleaned and stitched it up hours ago, but it was still bleeding. it can't be helped. the supplies were sparse and the cut was too deep, and with your fever adding up, he was not sure if you'll survive the night.

sweat began lining up his forehead. gritting his teeth, he took a fresh batch of bandages and started to wrap them on you again.

why? why was he doing this? why was he trying to keep you alive? each time the bandage circled around your arm, blade's movements became more frustrated and quick and rough. he didn't even notice you gazing at him with a dazed expression until you chuckled softly.

blade scowled. "speak if you wish to say something."

"are you real?" you murmured weakly, your hushed voice cracking in between words, lacking the usual gentle tone yet it was still tinted with naivety and awe that it made him freeze. all the frustration and anger was washed away and was instead replaced with confusion to your question.

your eyelids kept drooping down, not allowing him to see the beautiful shade of your warm eyes that reminded him of the brightest stars of the xianzhou sky. it was fine; as long as he gets to hold you like this, your head against his shoulder, your bare skin against his with the moonlight shining over you, then everything was fine.

feeling his heart skid to a stop for a thousandth time that night, blade can't help but to slowly reach out, and although his bandaged hand hesitated to land on your skin, afraid it might tint your innocence with his sins, he allowed himself to caress your cheek. it did not surprise him at all when your face fit perfectly in the palm of his wounded hand, your warmth proceeding to seep through his thin and bloodied bandages. a stray tear suddenly fell down your smooth skin, and this time, he didn't hesitate to wipe it off with his thumb.

"what do you mean?" he whispered, leaning in closer to you. you didn't answer for a minute, your breathing growing heavy.

then you laughed. "i don't know," you said, "i feel like i just made you up."

more tears escaped from your eyes as you continued, "you wouldn't...boil some strange herbs for me, or wrap me up in your coat. or treat my wounds, or even talk to me. you wouldn't want to be near me. you wouldn't do that."

"i have no time for your nonsense." blade replied with the intention of sounding harsh, but it came out weak instead. you smiled at him tearily, placing your hand on top of his.

"we are going to be unbound soon." you assured him, and blade swore his stellarmark was stung the second you said those words, "and as soon as i get well, i will immediately seek the aeons and get our marks removed. then you wouldn't have to see me ever again."

he swallowed, speechless for the first time. unbeknownst to him, he was slowly pulling you closer to his chest, his fingers digging into your skin in an attempt to keep you all to himself. his breathing grew uneven as he thought of you walking away from him, forgetting him, not thinking of him, and you belonging to someone else that wasn't him. his heartbeat grew irregular at the thought of not seeing you again.

blade had the sudden urge to cover up his mark and protect it from the world. it was his. it was his and his alone, and no one was going to take it away from him. not even the aeons.

"but do you want to know a secret?" you continued quietly, your smile growing wide, "if the aeons would give me a chance to pick a stellarmate again, i would choose you."

yes. he was going to keep this mark. and he was going to keep you. ever single person who will lay their hand on your skin will meet the sharpness of his sword, and every single one who will stand in between your bond shall face his wrath.

"i would you choose you, again, and again, and again, until you want me back. until you love me back."

the second you wake up from your delirious state, he'll tell you of his new plans, and he imagined you in disbelief, surprised and hesitant and hopeless but you'll nod and you'll take his hand, and you'll run, run, run, and leave it all behind.

"oh, look at the moon," you exclaimed, pointing a finger to the crescent shaped light, and he ignored the way your breaths were growing shallow each time you talk, "look at the moon, blade. it's so pretty. the moon is so pretty."

blade pulled you closer to his chest and rested his chin on top of your head as a sinister grin started to grow on his lips, along with an unfamiliar flame beginning to ignite in his amber crimson eyes. you were his. you were his.

and not even elio can change that.

#blade x reader #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #blade hsr #blade honkai star rail #honkai star rail blade #hsr blade #hsr x y/n #hsr x reader #hsr x you #hsr #honkai star rail x you #honkai star rail blade x reader #honkai star rail imagines #hsr blade x reader #hsr blade x you #angst #honkai star rail angst #ਏਓ ladadiida

[gay-dorito-dust]

I have been binging your work!

I don't know if this breaks your trauma rule or not, but (with the guys of your choosing as long as Ratio is there) how would the guys react to losing reader (they haven't confessed feelings yet) during a mission and thinking they died. Then, the reader reappears a week later bandaged up, but alive. Maybe spouts their confession first? ˘͈ᵕ˘͈

I adore your writing. Thank you!

This is way too fucking long, so be warned. It’s like I rammed 4 mini stories in one but got lost at some point cuz I left this ask to collect dust. Also thanks for enjoying my writing it’s much appreciated. :) 🦦🐿️

Sunday:

The moment he got news that you’ve been assumed dead in the aftermath of a dangerous mission, he looses composure really quickly.

Loosing Robin was one thing but loosing you on top of that was the straw that broke the camels back.

He originally doesn’t believe that you were gone, he refuses to as he practically tears his office to shreds in a fit of anger and grief before forcing himself to regain composure and clean up after his outburst. He needed to in order to keep up the illusion that he was the levelheaded leader The Family needed in these moments of chaos and mistrust.

Even if he himself was breaking down internally alongside everyone else, hellbent on finding the culprit for your death and punishing them so severely that they’d beg for death. He’d avenge you in anyway he could, even if it meant sending out the bloodhound family on a wild goose chase that only ends in dead ends, he would get you justice no matter how it may come.

His heart had died alongside you that day.

So when a week passes and he finally has you back in his arms, all the while being carful with your wounds as his eyes searched you over in a way you weren’t use to.

‘You’re alive.’ He breathes out in relief as he then begins to laugh and rest his head against yours, breathing you in deeply as he relishes in this long awaited moment. ‘Of course you’re alive.’ He mutters.

‘Sunday,’ you began but Sunday was quite to cut you off.

‘Do you know how I felt thinking you were dead? Driving myself insane to prove that you were still alive anyway I could as not to bear the idea of walking through this life without the one person I love so dearly.’ Sunday takes a brief pauses in his monologue, feeling out of breath after having put everything out into the open before continuing. ‘I thought my heart had stopped beating that day and now I have you bad in my arms.’ Sunday then chuckles darkly as he gripped you tighter. ‘I’ll ensure that I’d never have to revisit that part of my life ever again.’

‘Sunday-‘

‘Shhh.’ Sunday cuts you off once more, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he holds you close to his chest, rubbing your back soothingly. ‘Just know that what I do after this, I do out of my love for you.’ He says against your forehead before pressing another kiss there for good measure.

Jing yuan:

Loss wasn’t new to Jing Yuan.

He has experienced it in multiple forms throughout his life, but that didn’t made the news of your death any less painful for the General.

While his mind might’ve made peace with the fact that you were gone, his heart however did not as he would find himself in the places that you often vacated to in moments of stress, or to just be left alone for a while with your thoughts. So to no longer see you in any of those hidden spots -waiting for him to find you like you usually did- only worsened the grief he felt in his heart as he sat himself down and allowed the memories to pass over him in waves.

You were both so happy together and felt a sense of fulfilment that could only be achieved when you were within the other’s presence; A feeling that was uniquely yours and yours alone that could never be replicated, ever. For no one could ever come close to replacing you, nor the companionship you and he had for each other that many assumed would blossom into something more; Jing Yuan also shared the same sentiments as they did, but just as he built the courage to push that boundary between the two of you, you were taken from him before he could utter a single word.

So when a week passes and Jing Yuan found your battered and beaten form in one of your secret spots, back resting against a tree with your eyes closed.

‘Y/n?’ He called out and your eyes opened upon hearing his voice and looking at him with a weak smile. ‘Hey General, miss me?’ You said as you struggled to get up to your feet, only to stumble forward and into Jing Yuan’s chest as his strong yet gentle hands hold you in place.

‘More than you could ever hope to know.’ Jing yuan said as he focused on how you felt beneath his hands, warm and alive.

‘I’m sorry I kept you waiting.’ You muttered against his chest as his warmth made you realised just how tired you were from everything you’ve experienced this last week alone. ‘I never meant to keep you waiting in fear that you’d forget about me if I don’t stay in your life long enough.’ You admit and Jing Yuan instinctively presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, holding you protectively.

‘I could never forget about you my beloved.’ Jing Yuan reassured you as he looked you deep into your eyes. ‘You’ve managed to carve your place within my heart and soul, so much that there isn’t a day where you aren’t all I think about, regardless of whether or not your by my side or far away.’ He finished by pressing a gentle kiss to the gauze on your cheek, chuckling upon seeing your cute attempts of burrowing your face into his chest.

‘How long have you’ve been waiting to say this.’ You asked, thankful that he was the one to admit his feelings first, as you would’ve had a hard time articulating your words as fluidly as he could.

‘For a very long time.’ Jing Yuan replied with a small smile as he then proceeded to lift you into his arms, cuasing you to squeal in surprise, as he made sure to be carful of your wounds and began walking to the nearest medics to make sure your wounds weren’t going to be trouble later on.

Aventurine:

He didn’t know what to think when you were pronounced dead, all Aventurine could feel in that moment was an overwhelming numbness that encased him entirely.

The only light left in his life had been snuffed out, plummeting him into utter and total darkness he had once been well acquainted with until you came along, giving him a reason to keep looking forward despite everything.

You were no longer here to hold onto his left hand before he could even think of hiding it behind his back out of habit, you were no longer here to be his reason, his comfort, his safe place. You were taken away from him unfairly and once again Aventurine found himself asking the same question he has been asking himself for a long time; why everyone was born into this life just to die.

So when a week passes and Aventurine finds himself sat on a bench somewhere, still not dealing well then than he was the week of your assumed passing, lost in his own thoughts when someone took a seat next to him. Aventurine was just about ready to tell them to go away, when he saw just who was sitting next to him; you.

‘I know, I look like shit but you don’t have to look at me like that.’ You spoke upon feeling his eyes gaze upon the gauze on your cheek, then towards the array of bandages that littered the rest of your body.

‘I thought you died.’ He hissed, emotion was heavy in his voice as his eyes became bleary with unshed tears as he felt his breathing become heavy with the reality that you were alive. He didn’t know what was real and what wasn’t in that moment as his mind raced. And it wasn’t until you reached out to grasp his left hand and intertwine your fingers together, squeezing, did everything finally became clear to him.

‘I thought I was too at one point but there was something that kept me from journeying over to the afterlife.’ You admit, looking over at him and smiling sweetly, wanting nothing then to calm his thoughts and reassure him that this wasn’t a dream.

‘And what was that?’ He laughs humourlessly as he stares back at you, wanting to hear what excuses you could come up with for faking being dead for a week. ‘Willpower? Determination?’

‘You Kakavasha.’ You replied straightforwardly and his breath hitched in his throat. You rarely used his actual name unless it was absolutely serious. ‘You were all I thought about as I pushed through my injuries.’ You told him as you continued. ‘Kakavasha is waiting for me was just about all I could think about for a week straight.’ You finished as though you didn’t just confess that he was your soul motivator in staying alive.

‘Really?’ Aventurine said softly, finding it impossible that he could possibly be your reason for anything. ‘Why?’

‘Yes really.’ You chuckled, pressing a kiss to his cheek as you rested your head against his shoulder. ‘As for why, it’s because I like you more then did let myself admit, but i just wanted you to know incase anything truly bad were to ever happen to me-‘

‘No.’ Aventurine cut you off suddenly, squeezing your hand as though he were afraid. ‘Nothing is going to happen to you, not now. not ever. I just got you back.’ He adds resting his head against your own in a desperate attempt of feeling more of your against him. ‘Just stay with me…please.’ He begs you in a whisper as he nuzzled further into you. ‘and don’t go anywhere I can’t follow. I don’t think I can bear the thought of loosing you again.’

You smiled softly as you just whispered back against the skin of his neck. ‘As long as you don’t go anywhere I can’t follow. I like my crush to be alive and close by even if he can be a pain in my ass sometimes.’

Aventurine chuckles, his heart becoming whole again as he made you cuddle into his side, kissing your head once more as you took this moment to familiarise yourselves with each other. ‘At least I’m a pleasurable pain in the ass.’ He teased and you pinch his side, causing him to flinch, but his smile remained and this time his smile was genuine.

His light has came home.

Ratio:

Fully believed that he’d see you when the mission ended, knowing just how talented and dedicated to the craft you were, and having faith that this would be a measly walk in a park for you.

Only to receive word that you were one of the many who were assumed dead when you weren’t found amongst the living nor the dead.

Veritas tries to remain as levelheaded and logical as possible during this time and continue life as normal. However found himself retracting from everyone else and going none contact, more so specifically with the people you were once associated with, and instead focused heavily on his studies and academics to an unhealthy extent.

A week passes and Veritas feels as though he’s seen a ghost the moment he saw you in his peripheral vision, bandaged and dressed in ripped clothing but still somehow finding it in you to smile.

‘You idiotic Buffon!’ He exclaims as he walks towards you.

‘Well that’s a nice way to greet someone you care about.’ You replied as you readied yourself for a massive rant about how stupid you were and so on, but instead you were held against his chest as he burrows his head into your neck.

‘I thought you died.’ He says in a whisper as he breathed you in. This went against all logic but in that rare moment Veritas didn’t care, you were alive but he still couldn’t let go of the fact that you didn’t tell anyone you were still alive. ‘Why didn’t you tell anyone that you were alive, send a signal, anything.’

You shrugged as you made yourself comfortable in his strong arms. ‘All communications were badly damaged or completely cut off.’ You told him. ‘I was on my own for a long while before finding my way back to you.’

‘Me?’ Veritas asked, pulling away from you. ‘Why not a medial facility for a proper treatment of your wounds? Have you hit your head so hard that common sense had been left on the back burner when making that decision?’

‘I wanted to see you first you dickhead!’ You exclaimed, shutting Veritas up rather quickly with your confession but you didn’t care. ‘is it so wrong of me to let the man I love know that I’m okay? So go ahead and call me an idiot all you like but that won’t change the fact that I felt more fear about not telling you how I truly feel then dying on some stupid mission.’ You finished your rant.

‘You’re insufferable.’ Veritas said after a moment of silence and you couldn’t help but feel a little annoyed at this that you didn’t notice that Veritas has began to close in the distance between the two of you.

You scoffed. ‘Oh sure call me insufferable as if you-‘ Veritas cuts you off by cupping your cheeks and planting a sweet short lived kiss against your lips before pulling away with a smirk.

‘Glad to know that the feelings are reciprocated.’ He says, taking enjoyment of rendering you speechless as he gently guided you to medical, and remaining by your side for the remainder of the day.

#hsr imagines #hsr imagine #hsr x reader #hsr jing yuan x reader #hsr jing yuan x you #hsr aventurine x reader #honkai star rail #Honkai star rail x reader #Honkai star rail imagine #Honkai star rail imagines #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan x you #jing yuan imagine #jing yuan imagines #hsr sunday x reader #sunday x reader #sunday imagines #sunday imagine #aventurine x reader #aventurine x you #aventurine imagines #aventurine imagine #veritas ratio x reader #veritas ratio x you #veritas ratio imagine #veritas ratio imagines #hsr fanfic #hsr x you #honkai star rail x you #hsr x y/n

[munsonfamilyband]

I have no time right now to elaborate too deeply on this thought but I just had a brain worm and I need to write it down before I forget. Who knows, I may elaborate and make this a whole thing with dialogue tonight, we’ll see. TW for depictions of Steve’s injuries post s4, vomiting, gore(?)

Steve refuses medical treatment at the end of s4, they drop off Eddie and he hides in plain site until it’s time to take Dustin and Robin home.

They stop at Dustin’s first, both he and Robin getting out to get Claudia Hugs (I just know she gives INCREDIBLE hugs). He drops Robin off at home with her promising to keep her walkie on their frequency. And then he goes home alone.

He tries to shower, it hurts his feet and back too much. He tries to change the “bandage” but just gently tugging almost makes him black out from pain. So he collapses on his bed and passes out.

Days go by, he’s trying to act normal, like he isn’t always running a fever and his sides are itching and starting to smell under the cologne he practically bathes in. It works for a few days at least, but Claudia gets suspicious by day 3 post earthquake when Steve shows up for lunch with flushed cheeks. 2 days later he doesn’t show up.

She drives over alone, Dustin is at the Wheeler’s, and she lets herself in with the key Steve gave her and Dustin after last summer. She calls his name, doesn’t get an answer but something smells off. She’s a nurse, she recognizes the scent of disease.

She hurries upstairs and finds Steve in bed, only wearing boxers and the filthy scrap of cloth wrapped around his stomach. He’s sweating and has vomited on himself at least twice, recently too. She immediately knows that he is what smells, she can see the pus and blood on his abdomen. He’s delirious, mumbling to himself and part of her wants to shut down and cry, to go cradle this boy, her son in all ways but blood, but she can’t. She steels herself and walks to his bedside to feel his forehead, almost recoiling from how hot his skin is.

As she keeps checking him over, she grabs the phone on his bedside table and calls 911, cradling the phone between her ear and shoulder to keep working. When the operator answers she explains who she is, where she is and what’s happening.

It’s a blur after that until she’s sitting in the hospital waiting room and she realizes that 1. her shirt and her hands reek of Steve’s blood, and 2. she’s completely alone in the waiting room. Swallowing her tears, Claudia goes over to the payphone and fishes out some coins to call the Buckely’s. Robin’s father picks up but quickly hands it over when Claudia mentions Steve.

She will never forget the choked off sound of pure distress Robin makes when she hears what’s happening.

Hours pass, Robin had arrived shortly after the call and her and Claudia have been curled up together in the waiting room every since. They haven’t called anyone else, haven’t even thought about it, too worried about Steve. Later, Claudia will remember the other kids who adore Steve, Hopper who treats Steve like a son. But in that moment, still not knowing if her boy is okay, she can’t.

Finally, a doctor steps out, clearly fresh from surgery, to speak with them. She explains that Steve had a very severe infection in multiple wounds, especially the ones on his side. They had to debride the wounds, which is what took so long. He was lucky that she found him when he did and that he hadn’t picked up any truly terrible bacteria. He hadn’t gone septic, thankfully, but he was going to be on seriously strong antibiotics for a while. She explained that he was in the ICU and they aren’t supposed to let anyone but family see him.

Claudia wanted to scream and sob and go find the Harringtons and get them to come see their son, but before she even says anything Robin explains that Steve’s parents had all but disowned him and her and Claudia were both in his emergency contacts, not his parents.

The doctor lets them see him. They have to wear face masks and gloves, but they can see him. Claudia had never seen him look so small. And there, in that ICU room, her and Robin both broke and started crying. That was how Jim Hopper found them when he arrived shortly after, the nurses having called him. He’s wearing a mask and gloves but his eyes are wild and scared. He nearly falls over when he sees Steve.

Steve is unconscious for almost two weeks, though the first four or five days or so were due to sedatives - the doctor wanted him to rest and let the antibiotics work. After he was taken off the sedatives he was moved out of the ICU, to a regular room where other people could visit. The kids came and decorated his room, even brought something Eddie had “commissioned” from Will (it looked like Steve ripping one of those creepy things from that alien movie apart, which she really didn’t get). Joyce brought him the quilt from her couch that he always enjoyed at movie nights and Robin came in every other day with his shampoo and conditioner to wash his hair for him (on days she didn’t come to wash his hair, she would come do something else with him. One day Claudia walked in on her painting his nails and her heart felt like it was melting).

The day he finally woke up was the first day Robin hadn’t been able to come. Her parents had forced her to take a break and get some sleep, so Claudia was there on her own just reading a book. She was so engrossed in it that she dropped it in shock when she heard the person on the bed in front of her make noise. Her eyes instantly went to Steve and she could see him scrunching up his face and groaning.

Claudia was by his side in a heartbeat, gently grabbing his hand and brushing a hand over his cheek, speaking softly to let him know she was there. His eyes slowly squinted open, clearly struggling to get the energy to move at all. Their eyes locked and his mouth twitched, like he wanted to smile at her. Then, as she was watching him with tears in her eyes, he opened his mouth and spoke for the first time in weeks.

“Mom….”

#stranger things #steve harrington #platonic stobin #steddie #(hinted at just a little) #CLAUDIA HENDERSON #SHE GETS ALL CAPS BECAUSE I LOVE HER #parental jim hopper #robin buckley #just had this idea of steve waking up in the hospital and seeing claudia and calling her mom and UGH

[angelltheninth]

All That Heals is a Little Romance

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Daughter of Demeter!Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, established relationship, injury, healing powers, kisses, flirting, smug Luke Castellan

Word count: 0.6k

A/N: Final commission of this batch! Might open them again soon.

As the daughter of Demeter it was your job that those who got seriously hurt in the Camp got the best help they needed. It was a tough job but it was your calling, you liked doing it, brining a smile to someone's face, making them feel better, or chastising them for making really stupid mistakes that got them hurt. "What were you thinking Luke? Running up a wall?! And for what?"

You carefully took his shoe off, cringing when you saw how swollen his ankle was from the sprain. That wasn't his only injury either, there were small thorn-like cuts all over his arms and face too.

"I wanted to see if I could so it without the wings." This is exactly the kind of stupid stuff that you, and he, have advised others against doing.

"And why exactly did you do something so dumb?" You suspected you already knew what he'd say to that. But who knows maybe he'll surprise you.

"I know they're all watching." The 'they' never referred to other members of Camp Half-Blood.

You sighed and started massaging his ankle, trying to feel for any cracks. Luke grunted in pain every time you pressed down but nothing seemed broken or out of place. "Nothing's broken." You would need to bandage it just in case he doesn't heed your warning, "You need to take it easy for a few days. No more stupid dares to impress the Gods. I know you want to prove yourself, we all do, in one way or another, but it shouldn't come at the cost of... you Luke."

Luke rubbed the back of his neck, having heard all this before. From you and his mentors and peers. You've all been given this talk at some point. It never made the burdens of your parentage any easier for any of you. Pretty words could only go so far.

"I'll try." That's what he always said.

"I mean it Luke. No more running around. Or else I'll have to tie you to the bed until you feel better."

Luke chuckled and wiggled his eyebrows, "That's kinda kinky. It's always you medics."

"Ugh. You pervert." You tightened the bandage a bit too tight for one split second before you eased up on him. "Okay. Don't put pressure on this if you don't have to. I'll give you some healing cream I made. It doesn't smell the best but put it on your ankle every nigh before bed and give it a few minutes to get absorbed."

Luke made a disgusted noise when you brought out the small container with the cream, "Yes nurse." His nose relaxed the moment you booped it.

"Okay. I'll know if you lie to me Luke. You know I will. Now, for your other injuries. They're not as bad so... lean back a little." The demi-god looked skeptical of your plans but listened anyways, knowing it was pointless to argue with you when you worked.

As soon as he sat back on the bed you sat in his lap and kissed one of his small cuts, healing it instantly. "Oh! Now this is the kind of medicine I like!"

"I knew you would." You rolled your eyes to humor him and gently cupped his face. "There's a lot of these so we might be here for a while."

"Yeah but it's all about making the patient feel better right? That's what you said." Luke placed his hands on your hips and smiled smugly at your now slightly flustered face.

"You're lucky I'm your girlfriend or else I would have kicked you out for that bad joke." You leaned in again, your kiss healing his next cut. You lost track of how many there were, or how long you've been doing your job, but this was one more part of it that you could wholeheartedly say you loved.

#luke castellan x reader #pjo x reader #luke castellan imagine #pjo imagine #luke castellan fluff #pjo fluff #luke castellan fanfic #pjo fanfic #luke castellan x you #pjo x you #percy jackon and the olympians #luke castellan #pjo #pjo show

[intoxicated-chan]

Late Night Moments with Miguel O’Hara

✿ฺ Paring ➳❥ Miguel O’Hara x GN!Reader

✿ฺ Summary ➳❥ It was normal for Miguel to return home late, you weren’t surprised by his usual entrance through your bedroom window. But what you did enjoy when he came home late is the little routine the two of you have.

✿ฺ (A/n) ➳❥ This is a mixture of a fic and headcanons of mine. Miguel is plaguing my mind, I’ve already got two stories in the works. Anyways, I hope you enjoy it! And requests will be open soon!

✿ฺ Word Count ➳❥ 533

✿ฺ Content Warnings ➳❥ Gender neutral reader, heavy fluff, light blood, injuries, bruises, mentions of violence…

It starts with a few taps on your window, the taps play in a certain pattern so you know who it is. A few seconds later, the window slides open and in comes Miguel dressed in his Spider-Man costume. He enters with a huff as he closes the window and makes sure it’s locked.

Next, he welcomes you with a tight hug, holding you for a few minutes before you ask if he’d like to get cleaned up. It’s always a hot shower when he comes home, soothing his muscles from the hours of fighting and swinging around.

You can see the bruises and cuts on his skin but it always made him happy when you kissed every single one of them, it made him feel better about himself which is why he enjoyed your touch so much.

Depending on the day (or night), if Miguel had an awful night, then instead of a shower, it’ll be a hot bath. You leaned back as he layed in your arms. He used to think taking baths were childish but he now enjoys them. It’s your favorite because you get to pamper him, especially washing his hair.

Then came drying off. He’d usually leave his hair dripping wet but sometimes he lets you towel dry his hair, maybe style it. Then changing clothes.

Then came his wounds. Bandaging them up as carefully as possible so you don’t cause Miguel more pain. You then kiss all of them again when you finish, “All done!” You smile.

Next, it’s either staying up even later or going straight to bed. If he’s feeling hungry then he’d make food for the two of you, if he doesn’t feel tired then it’s a movie night.

But in the end they always end the same. Holding each other tightly. Basically the face-to-face embrace.

He always needs to know that you’re with him. There were nights where he awoke without you there, he immediately panics. Which is why if you need to use the bathroom, you’re gonna have to wake him up to tell him where you’re going.

Movie nights are interesting. He likes picking out horror movies so he can feel you holding onto him for safety. He says he hates rom coms but he loves them deep down. Then there’s comedy movies when he or you needs a laugh.

Nights where he decides to cook, he likes to share food from his heritage and it always makes him smile when you’re willing to learn how to make it.

But one thing he hates is that if he has work that still needs to be done, he tries to finish as quickly as possible but he’s not gonna lie, there are some nights where he forgets to take care of himself.

That’s when you come in, having Lyla remind him to drink water, coming into his home office to bring him some food and maybe cuddle on his lap for a few minutes before getting back to work.

But this time, when he’s finished, he goes straight to you. Too tired to even change his clothes, he immediately falls asleep.

It is nights like these where Miguel finally feels at peace.

© 2033 Intoxicated-Chan, I do not allow my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or put on any other platform without permission.

#x reader #fluff #miguel o’hara #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #spider man across the spider verse #spiderman 2099 x reader #spider man x you #into the spider verse #spiderman x you #spider man 2099 #spider man x y/n #spider man x reader #spiderman #spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #spiderman x y/n #x gender neutral reader

[viviennevermillion]

love languages

✧ ɴᴏᴛᴇꜱ: hsr debut post, hope this does well. i'm only at chapter 2 part 1 so pls bare we me. (gn!reader), aeons can walk among mortals for this

✧ ɴᴏᴡ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ: bloom in the dark — emorie

✧ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ: blade, dan heng, jing yuan, luocha, march 7th, nanook, yaoshi

✧ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: some angst & hint at character death in blade's because i'm still figuring out how to write anything but angst for a character whose main objective is that he wants to die, i had way too much fun making the aeons eldritch

✧ giving: gifts

As much as Blade loved you, as much as he treasured the memories he shared with you and as much as he'd hate to cause you pain or grief; you were all too familiar with his predicament. You had been ever since you agreed to stay by his side, to love him for as long as you had together. That was the price you'd pay for loving a man who considered himself dead in spirits already. A shell of who he once was.

Part of him felt guilty for indulging you; how could he call himself yours when he'd take the exit from his cursed immortality if it presented itself before him tomorrow? How could he promise you his heart if he couldn't promise you a future?

He knew there was a chance he might outlive you by centuries. He knew there was a chance he'd say goodbye to you in a month. Still, you were willing to be with him, through all the uncertainty.

So he gifts you things to remember him by, should he part from you too soon for your liking. Some of them were expensive; after all he had more than enough life behind him to no longer be bound by material limits. Some of them were simple trinkets or flowers he preserved using glycerine. All of them held meaning but the overarching message was: "We were born in different times. If it were for the natural order of things, we never would have even met. I've been suffering since long before I met you. And yet, curiously, despite all; I treasure every moment I had with you. I'm glad to have loved you."

✧ receiving: physical touch

One thing Blade would have never expected when he met you; but was more than glad to realize, was that you could make him forget his anger and pain, even if it was for just a while; even if it always inevitably returned.

He loved falling asleep in your arms. It was the closest thing to the peace and salvation he craved that he could currently have. For just a few hours, he was content. He had forgotten what that felt like.

He loved the feeling of your fingers carding through his long, dark hair. And you loved the smile you so rarely saw on his face when you did this. Blade's breathing would calm and he'd nuzzle your neck as he was being held in your arms.

Blade also loves waking up in the middle of the night, feeling you shift in bed beside him and pressing a few lazy kisses to his lips before he fell back asleep.

He loves the way you tend to his scars, how you seem to wash the pain off his body with your caring touch; despite feeling guilty for how he has made you worry again. You'd end up disinfecting and bandaging his wounds and sometimes he had to chuckle at how you treated him as if he was fragile, despite having likely seen more hardships than you could ever imagine.

✧ giving: acts of service

Dan Heng doesn't really know how to express his love for you at first so he defaults to helping you out however he can.

He helps you with little jobs around the Astral Express and loves to team up with you for any missions or chores that fall on both of your plates.

Especially with all the knowledge he gathered from the archives and basically living in there; he's more than ready to help you figure out any mysteries you encounter on your journey with the Astral Express.

If he needs to explain anything to you or answer a question you have about stuff like the Aeons or any factions you encountered, he'll often pull you onto his lap at the desk and show you important info about it in a book or online. "I hope I could answer your questions. Did this help you?", he then asks you, looking into your eyes. "Yup!", you shoot him a smile and give him a quick kiss to the lips which leaves him blushing and just staring at you for a while.

"Hey, Astral Express to Dan Heng, you still there?", you chuckle and wave your hand in front of his eyes. He just blinks like, twice and then picks you up bridal style: "Come on, let's figure out that task Himeko gave you." He's just trying to distract from the fact that you flustered him.

Sometimes he tries to cook for you. The emphasis is on tries. You'll walk into the train kitchen and he'll be there stirring something in the frying pan and glancing at a recipe. "What are you doing there, love?", you ask and kiss his cheek. "I'm making lunch for you", he states and you hug him. "Aww, that's so sweet of you!", you press a few appreciative kisses to his lips, "wait why does it smell burnt?" "What-"

✧ receiving: quality time

Dan Heng is what we call 'a good listener'. He's not the best conversationalist but he likes to hear you talk and he remembers stuff you told him that even you have forgotten about until he one day just brings it up out of nowhere.

He loves to spend the time between trailblazing expeditions just hanging out with you. You check your phone and receive a text from him like "Hey, want to come over to my room? 🫀"

"?" "March told me that I should add a heart to my messages to make you feel more loved. Did I not do it correctly?" "Dan Heng, sweetie, no..."

You enter his room and he has made you two cups of coffee, the only thing he's actually good at "cooking". The two of you have decided to watch a movie and lay down on Dan Heng's mattress. "I can feel the bones in my back snapping in half, how do you sleep on this?", you raise your eyebrow. "I don't think it's that bad", he mumbles, seeming lost in thought.

While watching the movie, he has his arms wrapped around you. His only opinion about it is "it was good".

Also enjoys playing board games with you, specifically card games. You're pretty equally matched so there's no telling who wins this round. When he wins, you ask him what he wants as a reward and he just gives you a soft smile and tells you a kiss will do.

✧ giving: physical touch

Jing Yuan is a fairly affectionate man behind closed doors. He doesn't leave for work without giving you as many goodbye kisses as you want and doesn't let go of you throughout the whole night while he sleeps. You could get up and grab a glass of water from the kitchen, as soon as you return, Jing Yuan wraps his arms around you once more; even when he's in deep sleep.

He enjoys just sitting idly with you, both of you doing your own things and he's just holding your hand or has a hand resting on your thigh. He also loves when you lean your head on his shoulder and as soon as he feels you do that, he turns his head to place a kiss on your forehead.

Sometimes you'll be reading a book while sitting between his legs and he ends up pressing multiple kisses to your cheek or trailing them down your neck. He smiles against your skin everytime he does this. He's not always seeking to touch you but he has his clingy 10 minutes where he wants attention and sometimes that happens to interfere with whatever it is you're doing at the current moment.

Most of the time you can't resist indulging him and just kissing him for a while, burying your hands in his hair or cupping his cheeks gently.

✧ receiving: quality time

Jing Yuan loves those days on the Xianzhou Luofu that are so peaceful that he gets to spend the entire day with you. You decide to take a nap during noon, falling asleep in his arms, listening to his steady heartbeat. You feel Jing Yuan press a few soft kisses to your forehead while you're dozing off.

When you awake, he's no longer next to you. You get up and find him in the kitchen, preparing a late lunch for the two of you. You wrap your arms around his waist from behind and glance at the frying pan to see him fry some eggs.

You hear a chirping sound and fish a small finch out of your boyfriend's hair. "Don't worry you, we're not grilling your brethren", you whisper softly and put the bird on the windowsill, "fly free, my little friend." The bird lifts off. You raise an eyebrow at Jing Yuan. "Was this the last one?"

He chuckles. "Should be." This at least gives him an excuse to take a bath with you and maybe you'll volunteer to wash his hair. He loves the feeling of your fingers brushing through his hair and just relaxing and letting you pamper him. "You know, if that's what you want, you can just ask right?", you remind him, "you don't need to call your woodland friends for help." Jing Yuan just laughs and gently guides your chin closer to his face so he can kiss you softly.

He enjoys playing chess against you, though you tend to suggest to play a die-based game instead so you can win by having good luck, because Jing Yuan has several centuries of chess practice under his belt. "You know that still doesn't mean you'll win", he watches you unpack the Ludo game with an amused expression. "I have good luck, I got you after all", you say confidently. "Well I've heard an old saying from a distant planet that when you luck out in love it means you have bad luck when it comes to games", he argues and crosses his arms with a smile on his face. You roll your eyes and he responds by kissing your lips.

Sometimes he watches you play chess against Yanqing. "Does it hurt to lose to an 8 year old?", he teases you. "Silence, Jing Yuan, you taught him this stuff." Your lover lets out a laugh. "And yet he still has so much to learn before he can beat me."

✧ giving: words of affirmation

When Luocha loves you, he doesn't hesitate to tell you. After all, his companion in the coffin consistently reminds him that life is short and he better have no regrets, should misfortune strike him tomorrow. Luocha adores you and in his mind, there's nothing stopping him from letting you know.

He's also a bit of a smooth-talker to you and you only. He never gets overbearing with his flirting, but you can expect a few cheesy compliments followed by a kiss to your hand. He'll pick you up for your date, takes your hand in his and leads it to his lips. "You're as beautiful today as the first time I saw you", he smiles and whispers against your skin.

Getting together with Luocha could take ages if you insist in knowing why he's being so suspicious first; but once you do he's ironically an open book for you. He has shared his greatest secret with you and you've given your hearts to one another, so why should he hold back now from telling you what's on his mind?

Sometimes his words are on the nose, such as cupping your cheeks and telling you that he loves you with all his heart or that he wants you to traverse the stars with him from now on. Sometimes the love he has for you is put into telling you how he remembers certain areas around the Xianzhou Luofu as "that place where you surprised me with a bouquet of flowers when we met up for tea" or "that shop where you almost made the coffin fall over". You learn with time that there are a lot of things he associates with you and your memories together.

✧ receiving: physical touch

Luocha loves your affections. He's the least grumpy man ever in the morning. You could wake him up at 3am for kisses and he'd be down for it. He loves when he wakes up and the first thing he feels is your lips on his cheeks or your fingers running through his long blond hair or your fingertips drawing circles on his bare shoulders.

He pulls you into his chest and you can hear his heartbeat while he holds you close. He lifts your chin up and his lips meet yours before he even opens his eyes. He kisses you softly, his tongue circling around yours as he tries to pull you even closer. "Good morning, my love", his voice sounds raspy before he presses a kiss to your cheek.

Luocha loves to take a walk through the city and hold your hand in his while doing so. He doesn't say it but he definitely melts if you stop your walk for a minute just to give him a hug or kiss him gently.

One time you get caught in the rain and Luocha finds shelter for the two of you under a secluded pavillion. You are cold so he wraps his jacket around you and holds you in his arms until the skies clear. He presses a kiss to the top of your head. "Are you still cold, my dear?", his voice sounds so soft and he gently squeezes your shoulder. You shake your head. He lets out a chuckle. "That's good, then", he replies before resting his head on top of yours and closing his eyes for a while.

He enjoys resting his head in your lap while you run your fingers through his hair. You might be busy with something else, not noticing how he smiles up at you like you're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen (you are). He eventually closes his eyes and rests his cheek against your stomach.

✧ giving: words of affirmation

March 7th talks quite a lot, especially if you were to ask Dan Heng about it. So if she's in love with you; her feelings are bound to slip out with her words. It wasn't hard for you to become aware of her crush on you because she just accidentally blurted it out one day. She was so happy when you told her you felt the same; even if this conversation was the furthest thing from planned.

March loves to explore the civilizations you travel to on the Astral Express and buying lots of souvenirs and clothes from there. So sometimes she'll drag you from shop to shop and often finds things she thinks would look good on you. No matter if you're wearing a fancy suit / dress or a 5 credit neon green "I survived the Belabogeyman attack" shirt from a shady souvenir shop, she hypes you up like you're on the front cover of a popular magazin.

"Aw look, you're so cute", she squeals and hugs you from the side, trying and failing to lift you up. There's at least 5 people in the shop staring at you and the shopkeeper glares at March, silently reminding her to keep her voice at an acceptable volume for a public building. "Oops... sorry", she cringes slightly and then turns to you again with a bright smile, "you should totally get this!"

Everytime you enter her room after a trip you find a new photo you took together on her wall. "Look at your smile on this one", she holds one of them up, "it makes me happy whenever I look at it."

Dan Heng told her to stop talking about you all the time so now she talks with you about you.

Definitely tells you she loves you plenty of times.

✧ receiving: gifts

March loves gifts. She's the kind of person who can't wait to open her birthday presents so you guys have to hide them from her every year; preferably somewhere where she can't reach or won't find them.

So when she receives gifts from you for no special occasion, she's gushing so much.

She loves flowers and chocolates. She definitely has a sweet tooth but will still share the chocolates with you. She is very interested in the meaning of the flowers you gift to her so if you can tell her about that, she'll be all the more happy. She loves romantic gestures like this. She has mostly read about them in romance novels and she's more than thrilled to finally receive them herself.

March also adores jewelry, whether you bought something for her or crafted it yourself. She'll wear it everyday and she's very proud whenever someone asks about it.

She posts about the gifts she receives in her status online as well. She'll be like "y/n got me this! 💓💓💓"

She dm's the pictures to Dan Heng as well and he leaves her on read.

When you gift her something, she gives you a hug and a kiss on the cheek before opening it. Once she opened it, she smiles at you brightly and kisses you on the lips. "Thank you so much for this!", she takes your hand into hers and squeezes it.

Receiving gifts from you makes her so happy. But being loved by you makes you feel like every day is her birthday either way. And for you, every day was March 7th.

✧ giving: quality time

Loving an Aeon wasn't the easiest endeavor. Especially not Nanook. But somehow you had touched the destructive god's heart and for the first time since they became what they were today, there was a life they wanted to treasure and protect.

They don't understand much about the human world as it was today, having mostly spent their time on a different plane of existence. It was only when they connected with you and took an interest in you; that they decided to walk among them for a while, to be able to spend time with you. At first their bitterness became apparent every day they spent with you, only scoffing at the people they saw going about their daily life and the things that they had built; which all would be wiped away by destruction if Nanook were to have their way.

But you took that as a challenge. You wanted to see if you could find something they liked about life, unaware that you had become that very phenomenon.

You made it your favorite pastime to show them all sorts of things from the material world and see their reaction to them. "What do you think of this painting?", you ask them, holding up a work of art you got from a market. "I'm not too fond of the sound it makes and the cosmic essence it depicts", they respond with a deadpan expression and you just look at them in confusion, "right, I forgot you can only perceive three dimensions."

Nanook, despite not letting it show, enjoys spending time with you; even though it could be challenging sometimes considering they were an Aeon and you were not. Sometimes they would ask you about things you couldn't see and other times they struggled to discern what things they saw you could pass through and which ones you considered "a wall".

✧ receiving: physical touch

Nanook loves your touch, much as they would like you to never notice that. They're not used to any physical sensations so they're very sensitive. They're unable to form coherent sentences when you so much as press a kiss to their lips. According to them it was very difficult to convey their thoughts in your way of speech when you were "trying to overwhelm them like this"

Giving Nanook affection also proved to be a challenge in more ways than one. The first time you tried to rest your head on their chest, your cheek touched the golden essence flowing out of them and you could perceive what you could only describe as the worst sensory overload anyone has ever experienced; a colorful mix of incoherent screaming and the faint sound of explosions; the feeling of all-encompassing despair and grief.

"What was THAT?", you stared at Nanook in shock, panting. "The entirety of traces left behind by destroyed worlds and ending lives from at least the last couple millenia", they answered very casually. You sighed and held your head, now suffering from a migraine. "At least it doesn't disintegrate me", you took a deep breath and started rummaging through your closet. "Only if I want it to", Nanook explained. "Charming", you whisper to yourself in a sarcastic way and toss them a shirt, "put this on."

Kisses are such a novelty to them. They're like "what was that?"

"Affection." "Do it again."

One time you pressed several kisses to their shoulder and Nanook just slow-blinked at you for like 5 minutes, before resting their head on your shoulder.

✧ giving: gifts

Yaoshi loves to bestow "blessings" upon you. Though, you have to teach them at first what you would consider an acceptable present.

The first one is immortality if you want it. Yaoshi would love nothing more than for you to be by their side forever.

Their next attempts at gift-giving left you feeling a little lost. They manifest before you, excitedly grabbing your cheeks and your waist and your shoulders with their hands and pulling you into a kiss. "My dearest, I made you a creature", they exclaim and reveal a Frankenstein-esque abomination the size of a volleyball. You can't quite discern what it actually is but it looks like an abstract mixture of a hamster, frog and a dragon. "Uh...thank you?", you try to be as polite as possible, unsure what to do with the creature as it spits a smaller version of itself onto your bedroom floor and then disintegrates. "It reincarnates out of itself", Yaoshi explains. "I can see that", you nod with wide eyes, patting Yaoshi's head.

One day, Yaoshi guides your spaceship to a distant location. "This is a planet I renovated for you", they join you as you land and explain their thoughts behind all the different new kinds of flowers they created specifically for you. "You're my greatest inspiration", they kiss your cheek and wrap their arms around you.

You eventually sit them down and calmly explain to them that one planet is more than enough and that you definitely do not need another creature. You teach them about your customs of giving gifts and they listen attentively. Maybe a bouquet of flowers would do next time.

✧ receiving: quality time

Yaoshi wants you to stay by their side forever. They perceive the passage of time very differently from you, yet they treasure and vividly remember every second by your side. Your bond of love is a sacred one in their eyes and they want to feel as close as possible to you.

They especially love talking to you and learning about your experiences that are so vastly different from their own. Despite being so intertwined with life itself; Yaoshi learns so much about life just from being with you. They never would have imagined you could give them so many new perspectives on the universe just by sharing your thoughts and beliefs with them.

Yaoshi always listens to you attentively and you see a sense of childlike wonder in their eyes when you speak about the way you experience the world, the things you value and the memories you treasure.

"Isn't it marvelous; how we see the world through such different lenses and are entirely different entities, yet we love each other so deeply and unconditionally", their voice sounds soft as they pull you onto their lap, holding you with their six arms and planting kisses on the back of your neck repeatedly.

Unlike Nanook, Yaoshi is very clingy. Quality Time with you always involves touching you in some way, be it kissing you repeatedly or holding you tightly within their embrace. Sometimes they sing you to sleep with a gentle voice, running their fingertips over your shoulder.

#honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #jing yuan x reader #blade x reader #blade x you #jing yuan x you #dan heng x reader #dan heng #dan heng x you #jing yuan #luocha x reader #luocha #luocha x you #march 7th x reader #march 7th x you #nanook x reader #yaoshi x reader #yaoshi #nanook #honkai star rail #hsr #honkai star rail fluff #hsr fluff

[glitter-epoch]

-ˋˏ [ nerve endings ] ˎˊ

≪ zayne x afab!reader ≫ - smut under the cut, 18+ ONLY mdni!!! do NOT!!! - part two of this drabble, but all you really need to know is zayne gave you stitches and neither of you are being normal about it. - warnings: smut at the end, afab reader no gender assigned pet names or references, a couple y/n's, reader got stitches in the first part, no explicit description of wound, slight pain from the wound at one point, fingering, zayne is mean and also anxious, he's real for that, zayne's scars mention

again, 18+ under the cut! mdni!

you’re unscrewing the cap on the ointment zayne ordered for you when your phone rings. the two gigantic strides you take to cross to the kitchen are ridiculous, but you’ve been waiting for him to call since his shift ended.

zayne. his name flashes on the screen, right under the time, 8:08 PM. you fumble to get the phone in your hands and put it up to your ear, cap still balanced between your fingers. 

“hi,” you breathe out. 

zayne is quiet for a moment. something whirrs in the background, mechanical and smooth. 

“hello,” he replies, in that somehow monotonous and matter-of-fact tone. “why are you out of breath?” 

“nothing,” you swallow. “just...trying to get the cap off the ointment you got me.” 

another moment passes. the soft drone of machinery in the background clicks in your mind, finally-  

“are you driving?” you ask. surely he’s not- 

“not anymore,” zayne says, and the whirring dies. “i’m in your parking lot. i have extra bandages and dinner for you. i’ll leave them outside if you’re not in the mood for company.” 

the feelings that pass through you are like a molotov cocktail; fear and excitement and relief all at once. it all burns in your chest. zayne had said he was going to call, but once it got to be past seven o’clock, you wondered if he’d forgotten. and you didn’t really think he would come see you, but...you had maybe thought he might. 

“you got me dinner?” you start, nervously. “that’s too much. thank you.” 

you’re in your pajamas, gauze pad ungracefully peeking out over the waistband of your fuzzy blue shorts.  

“i’m not dressed,” you murmur, unsure of what exactly your goal is in saying so. you do want him to come up- 

“i don’t care about that,” he replies. “but if you need time to put something else on, i can wait. i didn’t call you until eight.” 

“yeah,” you huff, “what were you doing?” 

zayne sighs. “buying you bandages.” 

“quit paying for things!” 

you look around your apartment. it’s clean, thankfully, uncluttered and dusted; countertops gleaming to the usual degree once they’ve been wiped down. he says he doesn’t care about your outfit, and you believe him. 

you can see him in your mind’s eye- buttoning your trousers, zipping them up like it was nothing. 

“i’m glad you came,” you say, chest buzzing with nerves. “i’ll come let you in. do you remember which building i’m in?” 

“i’m already outside.” 

you scamper all the way downstairs, gliding over the complex’s steps so fast it’s a miracle you don’t slip and fall. by the time you get to the bottom, you're out of breath again; the cut over your hip sore. 

zayne’s hair is blown over his forehead by a cold breeze that curls in through the open door of the apartment building, quickly sucking all of the warm air out of the lobby. you step aside, ushering him in. 

“oh, it’s cold,” you complain, narrowing your eyes out the glass door as you shut it behind him. “are you cold? no. you have that massive coat.” 

zayne looks down at his black overcoat; the sharp triangles of the lapels framing his jaw, which is just as sharp. he takes one pale hand out of his pocket to brush the hair out of his eyes. you’re smart enough not to ogle this time, but your eyes do snag on something- 

scars. little ones, all over the back of his hand; one deeper, longer one down the center. 

if he notices your gaze falter, he doesn’t say. 

“it is cold,” zayne chides. “you shouldn’t have come down here in shorts.” 

“i was barely outside,” you retort. 

“why are you wearing them in the first place?” is zayne’s reply.  

“they have cows on them,” you mumble, pointing at the wide nose of one on your shorts. “here, come upstairs. is that soup?” 

“yes,” zayne replies simply.  

his tone is a little icier than it had been at akso, but his porcelain cheeks are red, and his lips are wet with cold, too. there’s a small black thermal bag on his other arm, and mug in that hand (also scarred, you see, and his fingers move around aimlessly). he’s nervous.  

he’s nervous. 

you’d grin if you weren’t about to throw up. 

. . .  

he’s so tall. his shadow seems to stretch out across your living room as he sits down next to you on the sofa; half-a-cushion away. it seems intentional. 

“you didn’t have to heat it up for me,” you scold. 

zayne nearly ignores this, but provides you with a small mm and shake of his head. “you shouldn’t be reaching up that high, at the microwave; your stitches could tear.” 

you inhale, trying to settle in as he clearly does the same beside you. the back of your couch barely meets his shoulder blades. the lights are low, the overheads in the kitchen a distant glow. the resting screen of the television, the far-off lights of linkon, and one small lamp on the side table remain.  

zayne’s taken his jacket off, and his usual white button-down is gone. the charcoal-grey slacks remain (they’re tailored. they have to be. nobody’s legs look that good in department store slacks).  

his shirt is black, and thermal; with subtle waffling. it looks soft, but it’s tight around his biceps. at this waist, the shirt leaves a tiny bit of room- he's strong, his shoulders are wide, but he’s lean, you think. 

things you’d never have noticed in his usual uniform, and also, things you do not need to and should not be noticing. 

you avert your eyes only to find him rolling up his sleeves.  

Lord. zayne fluffs the rice inside a small plastic box with a fork and stirs a couple of glazed chicken strips into the container, a healthy amount of steamed broccoli also placed in the side tin. instead of handing it to you, he slides it across the coffee table as a small curl of steam rises from the rice. 

the vein that starts in center of his palm and disappears through his inner-wrist flexes as he pokes the fork into one of the broccoli florets. 

“you don’t eat enough vegetables,” zayne remarks.  

he has his glasses on. you’re too busy noticing this to offer a snide reply to his comment. when you do, it’s too late. he’s noticed your staring. 

“you don’t eat with me enough to know what i eat,” is your pathetic retort. “and you’re a cardiologist, not a dietician. get another degree and then we’ll talk.” 

zayne’s smile is small but victorious. he reaches for the mug on the table and shifts until he’s facing you, knees pointed at yours. 

then he starts unscrewing it. 

“your heart health is more dependent on your diet than almost anything else,” he says, voice low, almost teasing. “other than the aether core, of course.” 

the choice to unscrew the cap right at you, his knuckles moving deftly to twist off the lodged lid, that same center-vein and a few new ones appearing on his forearm. it’s so blatant you’re glaring incredulously at him by the time he offers it to you. 

zayne blinks a little after a moment of you ignoring him, hazel eyes looking a little concerned at your coldness. “it’s soup,” he offers. “not as warm as the rice, so you can hold it.” 

you lower your chin at him, brows low: “what are you doing?” 

it’s more of a statement than a question. and zayne (who’s been weaving this game all day, but now seems to be anxious), says- 

“i’m giving you this soup i made.” 

he sets it down on the table. 

“it’s just broth and some vegetables. protein would have been too much, you already have your chicken.” 

for a moment, you think you’ve gained the upper hand. but your eyes trail after his wrists as he sets the thermos down on the table and plucks the fork out of the rice, chicken still attached. 

one corner of his lip curls when he notices.  

zayne presents the fork to you. when you don’t accept, he cocks his head. 

“i came here to make sure you eat dinner and change your bandage,” zayne says. you’re not sure if it’s pure dishonesty; his voice is too difficult to read, as always. “i’m not sure why you’d refuse the food.” 

at that, you take the fork, and eat the bite off the end.  

“i’m not refusing the food,” you swallow. “and thank you. this was very kind of you. i’m...i’m really surprised, actually.” 

the mirth fades from his features. “surprised?” 

“i just assumed you weren’t going to call,” you add quickly, almost guilty over how suddenly his demeanor shifts. “it was getting late. i didn’t want to bother you.” 

“i told you i’d call,” zayne replies softly. “if i say i’ll do something for you, i will.” 

“you do have a good track record of that,” you reply. 

he nods. “i know i do.” 

gulp. you eat more of the rice, trying to occupy yourself. “this is very good. thank you.” 

“you don’t have to say it again. why were you so worried about me calling?” 

you peer at him, a ball of rice in your cheek. “i-” you murmur over the rice, and swallow quickly. “i wasn’t worried. well, i worried something might have happened to you, but it would have been fine if you didn’t call. you already gave me stitches for free.” 

“i’m your doctor,” is his reply. 

“you’re my cardiologist.” 

“primary care doctor,” zayne counters. and he leans forward, puts his elbows on his knees. he’s still a head taller than you. “are you averse to me caring about all the other parts of you?” 

you inhale sharply to try and hide the flush that bursts in your cheeks. the next time you swallow, he follows it; watches your throat bob.  

“no, i’m not averse,” is your stupid reply.  

he blinks slowly, like a cat. the smirk returns. “mm.” 

“mm,” you bite out, dropping the fork into the box of rice and pressing on the lid. “that was very g...you know i think it was good, but i’m not super hungry right now. i’ll put it away for later, unless you want some?” 

you busy yourself with gathering up the box and the mug, so by the time you steal another nervous glance at zayne, it’s the first time you’re seeing him tilt his head forward at you. the pools of his eyes see everything; it’s like he’s looking straight into your skull. 

“y/n,” he murmurs, slow.  

your own name shocks you. there’s no doubt in your mind that he’s not going to say anything else. it’s not just your name, it’s a question. 

he’s asking you what you want.  

and he’s ridiculously patient as you sit there, box of rice and thermos in hand, blinking like a dear in headlights. you think of chickening out. 

“can you help me change the bandage, please?” you nearly whisper. 

. . .  

“this cut is technically over your lumbar plexus. there’s a nerve here,” zayne continues. he drags the pad of his finger over the flesh between your hip and the curve of your waist, examining and admiring, like you’re a specimen. “obturator.” 

you’re practically ignoring him at this point; your head is swimming, your face is hot as an iron. “obfuscator.” 

he actually laughs, albeit softly. “obturator. with a ‘t’.” 

“yeah, that’s what i said.” 

you’re standing in front of the sofa, holding up the heavy bottom edge of your crewneck. zayne sits on the coffee table in front of you. his left hand traces over the right side of your belly, dances around the stitches he put in earlier. his right hand holds the waistband of your pajama shorts down; pins them to what’s nearly the middle of your thigh.  

you’re looking up at the ceiling, trying not to think about how much of the skin over your pelvic bone is exposed. you’re also trying to steal glances at zayne, who you’re certain isn’t really here, and must be a dream.  

even looking at him is too much, though. 

“you looked that up,” you whisper. “you’re a heart doctor, not a hipbone doctor. you looked up what those nerves were called in the parking lot before i came and got you, cuz’ you knew you were gonna do this.” 

“do what?” zayne wastes no time. 

“do...”  

well. you give up, not wanting to accuse him of seducing you out loud. 

he pulls your shorts up for a moment and grabs the ointment beside him. “this shouldn’t hurt,” he says softly. “i’m only putting it around the sutures, not on the cut. then i’ll put a new bandage on.” 

“okay,” you breathe. 

he pauses. looks up at you. “okay?” 

as in, are you okay? 

you muster up the courage to look down at him, not actually wanting to alienate him. if he left now, you’d absolutely start sobbing. 

“yeah, i’m okay. sorry.” 

“don’t apologize. hold still.” 

he spreads the ointment onto his fingers. like vaseline, it appears iridescent against the low-light of the television and the distant scape of linkon. you’re trying not to drool over the two fingers he’s placing over your hiphone when you remember. 

“your scars,” you say, softly, a little nervous. “were they accidents?” 

zayne stiffens. weighs his words. “essentially.” 

you nod, not wanting to press any further. “not that it matters-” 

you gasp as he starts to spread the ointment around the sutures; a barely-stinging, mostly-cold sensation fluttering like soft wings across your skin. his fingers are cold, not as cold as usual. he’s trying to keep them warm for you. 

“yes?” zayne murmurs.  

“not that it matters,” you continue, trying to steady your breathing. “but i think they’re beautiful. like tree roots.” 

zayne stops for a moment. inhales. you watch the breadth of his shoulders rise and fall until he continues working, circling the cut over your hip with glossy fingers. 

“do you?” he asks. almost a whisper.  

you furrow your brows at him, surprised to hear a hint of insecurity in his tone. once he secures a new bandage over the wound, you know you’ve waited too long to respond.  

“of course,” you manage.  

he looks up at you, then; narrow jaw angled expectantly, his jaw shut tight.  

“you like them?” he asks again, and his voice is darker than usual. 

god. 

you nod, unsure of how else to say it. “i like them,” you start. “i like...i like you, yes.” 

zayne watches you with such intensity you wonder if he’s trying to melt you down like iron. his fingers tighten on your waistband where he holds down the right corner of your sleep shorts; then he pulls that side down further, other hand coming down over the slope of your waist.  

he grips you. his palm ignites with ice; suddenly, extremely cold. you gasp. 

“you like me.” zayne challenges. 

“i like your scars,” you argue, but you can’t take it back. you’ve already said it.  

“you like both,” he replies. his palm smooths down your waist, then snakes around to your front. he places both hands flat to your belly. 

you let go of your crewneck, surprised, as he runs his hands up your front and then wraps them around your ribs, caging you in on either side.  

“there are nerves here, too,” he mumurs. he doesn’t have to lift his arms up much to reach you like this; he’s barely reaching up to begin with. “an intercostal.” again, his hands dip lower, equally soft and calloused. his thumb presses down right under your ribs. “subcostal.” 

“you’re making these up,” you huff, trying not to squirm, not to look too enraptured.  

“you were confident enough in my medical expertise to let me put stitches in you.” 

“well,” you breathe, “i trust you.” 

“you do?” zayne remarks, like he knows exactly how much you trust him; but maybe it astonishes him. “you do...” 

“this is your sacral plexus,” he says next, pressing two thumbs in just to the right of your navel. he goes lower, spreads his hands out; they fan like wings as they travel, colder and colder as he nears your pelvic bone. “obturator, again. this is lower, on your thigh; femoral.” 

“i’ve heard of the femur.” 

he stops to laugh. “you, are...” 

you laugh with him, because if you don’t, you’ll scare off; truthfully, you’re deeply afraid of him looking at you underneath your clothes. 

he senses this. 

“you don’t want me to look at you?” zayne asks, with genuine confusion. 

you look down at him. “no, it’s not that.” 

“it is. you’re afraid.” 

“not of you.” 

“of me looking at you,” zayne replies. he considers this, brows knit together in discontent. “you have no idea how many times i’ve thought about seeing you like this.” 

his voice is sanguine. this is new for him, too; you’ve both never been here.  

zayne looks up at you. he wants to see you, wants to touch you, wants you. 

his fingers curl over your waistband, but he stops. “yes or no?” 

you watch him, trembling under his gaze, under his grip. 

you can’t say it, but you nod. yes. 

he looks down instantly, propelled forward, but as he pulls down your shorts, revealing your panties; he seems more interested in your navel. zayne lifts your crewneck with one hand and lets your shorts fall, adjusting as you step out of them. one hand comes flat to your navel, the other runs across the thin fabric covering your heat.  

you inhale. the hand on your stomach flexes; small jolts of cold prick your skin.  

zayne watches goosebumps rise there. his mouth is open, you notice- just barely, like he doesn’t even know.  

“i don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” he says, almost slurred. “the cold.” 

“no, no, it’s fine. i like it.” 

he flashes you what’s almost a glare, like it can’t be true. “another thing you like.” 

“if it’s you, i like-” 

he brushes the pad of his thumb over your clothed cunt; catches the hood of your clit. maybe he doesn’t notice at first, but when you jolt, he hums.  

“mmm,” he says. “what were you going to say?” 

“if it’s you i like all of it,” you ramble off, “anything. what are you doing?” 

“taking my time.” 

he presses his thumb to that same spot, now that he’s found it, and rubs circles. meanwhile, you bend backwards; he grabs your waist, steadies you upright, and drags his frozen palms up and down your hips. 

“you have to stand up straight, or you’ll tug on the stitches. that will hurt.” 

“i don’t...care.” 

“that’s only because you haven’t done it yet. hold still.” 

you look down at him, gasping as he presses a kiss to the flesh above your panties, next to your cut. his lips are soft, warm, unlike his hands; sheen from his own biting. he does it again, and when you jolt, his grip is firmer. 

“i won’t do anything to you if you’re going to tear your stitches,” zayne murmurs. 

he loops his fingers through the legs of your panties, pulls them down. you nearly shriek. 

“zayne!” 

he hasn’t looked down yet, yet; he’s looking into your eyes. “that would be malpractice. also, i can’t stand to hurt you. i won’t, actually- so please, hold still.” 

“it’s your fault i can’t be still.” 

“try harder.” 

when zayne’s gaze lands on your bottom half, naked, the goosebumps on your belly traveling to your cunt; you can tell that he’d been looking at you in the eyes not just to knock you off balance. he’d been preparing himself.  

you’d be naive to think he doesn’t know what to do next, but for a moment, you think he might not- his pupils are big as moons.  

“hold still,” he says again. this time, with fervor. “please, hold still.” 

he touches you like he’s going to work; like he’s been studying for this his whole life. he keeps one hand on your ribs (clearly obsessed with physically feeling your breath hitch) and runs his fingers up the inside of your thigh, opposite of the wound on your hip. 

zayne looks up at you once before dragging his finger through the center of your core. 

you gasp. 

he cocks his head, and grinds his jaw, icy fingers tightening around your ribs. “fuck.” 

he keeps exploring, but you’re so stunned to hear him curse, practically drunk just hearing him talk, that you’re too busy examining his stoic but somehow awestruck expression when he finds your clit with his thumb. 

“zayne,” you lean forward. 

his brows knit together a bit when you say his name, almost confusion, almost disbelief. “say it again, please-” 

he doesn’t have to ask, really; you gulp it out. “zayne...” 

he lurches forward and presses a kiss to your navel, almost harsh. it stops you from leaning forward too far, but you feel the tug on your stitches.  

“ouch,” you hiss. 

it’s too loud. zayne hears you; drops you immediately. you’re colder than you were with his hands on you. 

“did i hurt you?” he demands. 

you grab him, actually; take his hands back, put them where they were. 

“no, no- keep going, please, don't...” 

you don’t finish. he hears you; rubbing circles with his thumb into the bundle of nerves at the peak of your core. it’s the only finger he can use, technically, from where you’re standing, but something about it is insane.  

you’re so worked up about him touching you, breathing in and out like you’ve just come up from underwater; you forget how good it feels, how it will feel, once he finds- 

“hm,” you swallow, choking over a gasp. 

zayne doesn’t press harder; doesn’t speed up. “like this?” 

you nod. his sigh is audible, ragged. 

“you can say it, though, can’t you?” 

you blink down at him, cheeks burning. “y-yes, like this.” 

zayne growls, almost; softly, and digs his opposite fingers into your ribs. you’re not certain, but he may be feeling around for the best spot to feel your heartbeat. 

“there’s too many nerves here,” he rasps. “to name. but you’re not really thinking about that right now, are you?” 

“i like listening to you,” you choke out. 

zayne smirks. it’s a little broken, with how enraptured he is. “i thought you liked my hands.” 

“scars,” you retort. 

“that was a terrible deflection.” zayne removes his hand from your ribs, too fast, moves down and presses one finger to your heat, inside your folds; he tests it. “can i...” 

you lurch forward. he catches you, lets you drape over his shoulders. it was cruel of him to pretend you could stand the whole time, in the first place. 

“alright,” he rasps, one big hand rubbing the small of your back. “come here.” 

you half-stand, he half-pulls you to the sofa. a red streetlight beneath your apartment blears like a star through the window with the moisture gathering in your eyes. 

zayne helps you lay down, slowly; has you put your head on the armest, and your body in his lap.  

“this will be easier,” he says, smoothing his palm down your front. “try to lay flat.” 

you grind your hips into him, a little humiliated. zayne bucks up; drags a hand over his mouth, either equally humiliated or furious with you. 

he snakes his left hand underneath your crewneck and finds your nipple. he squeezes it, experimentally; you arch and he nods. 

“see? you have more room to move.” 

your nipples pebble under him as he moves about, letting his fingers crawl up to dip into the divot between your collarbones. he presses down there, leans into the ragged breath you take.  

“your hoodie,” he hums. “do you want to leave it on?” 

for a split second, you’re nervous to take it off. but when you lock eyes with him, and see how much he’s blinking, how desperate he is (despite pretending not to be) almost all of your insecurities vanish.  

you sit up, pressing into his lap to shrug off the crewneck. he’s hard underneath you- big. 

“oh, my god,” you whisper. 

“y/n,” he groans.  

zayne exhales sharply and gently cups the space between your shoulder and throat to push you back down. it dawns on you how strong he is, how easily he could throw you around. that, you think, is not in his nature. 

he presses his palm flat to the space between your breasts. you watch his eyes dart around, taking in every inch of your torso, of your now naked body on top of him.  

abruptly, he takes your clit with the pad of his finger again; but only for a moment, as he tests his middle finger at your center again.  

“there are nerves here, too,” he says darkly. “you don’t care about that anymore. can i?” 

you nod, practically shimmying down his lap to bring him closer. “yes, please, yes.” 

he dips one finger into your cunt, experimentally- but it’s easy. he slides the one finger in, and when you gasp, he takes his chance to slide in a second. you almost sit straight up. 

he starts pumping, excruciatingly slow. “do you have any idea how guilty i’ve felt?” 

you squirm, whining; he says nothing about it.  

“how many times you’ve come in to the office and not known i wanted to touch you like this? you come in for stitches on your hips, here,” he says, dragging his free hand down to ghost over the bandage. “i couldn’t believe it. and you had no idea i wanted you like this; it’s been agony.” 

“i did know,” you lie. 

“not entirely,” zayne presses, pumping faster in and out of you, “or you wouldn’t be so worked up.” 

his hands are so big, his fingers are so long; you can’t imagine being fuller than this. 

“zayne,” you whimper. it’s astonishing to you that you’ve ended up like this, but you can’t be bothered to care how you sound. 

he breathes deeply, like it’s sex for him every time you say his name.  

“you’ve wanted this,” zayne drawls. “how long?” 

“always,” you gasp. “a-always.” 

“fuck, y/n.” 

he picks up the pace one more time and you know this is it- he's determined, needs to see you cum. you squirm and writhe around in his lap, and his free hand follows every inch of it; smoothing up and down your body, but you’re almost certain he’s trying to rile you up more than he’s trying to soothe you. 

the coil in your stomach is tightens, taught like a string; you’re close.  

zayne leans down and presses a kiss to the shell of your ear.  

“i know everything about you,” he murmurs. “about your body. i know how your heartbeat feels; i’ve stitched you together. but this...is better than anything i could have imagined.” 

you cry out as you come undone, clenching around zayne’s fingers. he pulls you up into him, careful to keep your hips flat as he holds you to his chest. you bury your face in his neck, riding it out, his fingers still inside you.  

“do your stitches feel alright?” he hums.  

“shut u-up.” 

•✧•

if you know medicine and the nerves are wonky i'm begging you. remain quiet. thanks to ⚡ anon for requesting the first part of this!!! love u all!!

@lost-in-time-wanderer ur tag &lt;3

#l&ds #l&ds zayne #love and deepspace #l&ds smut #l&ds x reader #love and deep space x reader #love and deepspace fic #love and deepspace fluff #love and deepspace smut #l&ds zayne x reader #zayne x mc #zayne x reader #zayne x you #zayne x y/n

[benkeibear]

⋆꙳✧༄ His favorite pet

❖ Character: Mahito

❖ Reader: female | AFAB

❖ Wordcount: 2.6k

❖ Summary: Mahito loves to experiment on you simply because you let him - loving how he pushes past your limits and pleasures you beyond belief.

❖ WARNINGS: DARK CONTENT! sub!reader, slapping, dacryphilia, clit slapping, bondage, tentacles, choking, throat fucking, spitting, humiliation, degradation, penetration with tentacles, anal, overstimulation, womb fucking, squirting

❖ A/n: the list of warnings is so long oh my. I'm not even sorry

꒰ ͜͡➸ Back to Kinktober Masterlist

Mahitos eyes went wide when he saw the way you were looking right at him instead of through him like everyone else. He knew right that moment that you will be his, if you want to or not so he gave you a silly grin while waving at you. Talking to him was so easy, he would always have interesting topics to discuss for hours as time flew by whenever you two hung out, always listening to you, always agreeing with you without making it too obvious but before you knew it you were craving his company. You fell so hopelessly in love with the man who did nothing but sweet talk you, luring you in and giving you a sense of being heard and seen along with this false sense of security - his plan worked. He's not a master of manipulation for nothing, not even surprised that you were seeking out his attention all the time, almost addicted to it like a lost puppy.

The fact that he wasn't human didn't even surprise you when he broke the news to you, already aware that he was a little different from your average man but you never once minded, finding it quite appealing actually. Mahito’s lighthearted attitude along with his dumb jokes never failed to make you smile, always pushing you to your limits or having you be the butt of the jokes. It was playful banter to you, an experiment of how far he can take it for him. Testing you… you were never more than just an experiment to him, while you called him your boyfriend in such a loving way it always amused him. Your giggles lit up his heart but he wouldn't admit it, blaming it on everything but you. He's a curse after all, made out of hatred… he can't love.

It was just a question of time until he took these little experiments into the bedroom though and before you knew it, you found yourself pushed far past your limits but his sweet encouragement in your ears made it bearable. “You're taking me so well. Just a little bit more, cupcake” he chuckled and rubbed little circles on your clit to distract you from the almost unbearable pain he caused with his slaps to your thighs and ass - skin painfully sore to the point where it's bleeding. But you were his good girl, his perfect little human, you didn't want to disappoint him so you took everything he had to give despite your cheeks being stained with tears. Seeing you this broken, eyes all red and puffy from crying and far out of your comfort zone got him hard like nothing else, knowing he had you in the palm of his hand like a little puppet he can control made him feel invincible. The orgasm that followed was earth shattering, little slaps to your over sensitive clit gave you a high like never before after getting edged for hours on end, drooling on yourself and the bed beneath from the exhaustion and barely noticing how Mahito cleaned you up with utmost care, bandaging the wounds he caused before kissing each of them. “Can't have you breaking from this… you did so well for me” he praised while wrapping you in a fuzzy blanket and cupping your cheek to prevent you from moving while he kissed your forehead with a tender kiss. The collar around your neck jingled when you moved to cuddle up to the curse, a tired smile spreading over your lips at the reminder that you're his and he is yours - your name carved into his soul and there to remain.

You didn't need to know that even if you ever used the safeword, he wouldn't stop. It just existed to give you this false sense of security but worry not, he would never quite literally split you in half. Mahito was so much sweeter with you than with any of his experiments before, adoring you for the way you wanted his love so badly, how you humiliated yourself just to get some words of praise from him. All you were to him was a little project to study humans on, liking to see your reactions to various things and how you seemed to mind it less whenever he encourages you, how the unbearable pain suddenly became bearable with simple praise never failed to make him laugh, how desperate you cling onto his words to guide you out of it and towards your sweet reward for being such a good little human to him. He could own you and you would thank him for it, making him feel like a god.

This was your mistake - trusting him to never take it too far, that he's doing this for your pleasure rather for his curiosity but this mistake is what made you end up in this delicate situation. Your hands were tied behind your back, a spreader bar preventing your legs from closing as Mahito manhandled you onto all fours, a sickenly sweet smile on his face when you just let him move you the way he desired, not thinking much of this since he does this a lot. Your eyes locked for a moment while he caressed your cheek with his hand until something changed…

You tried jerking your head away when you felt these cold and slimy appendages slither over your cheek instead of his beautiful slender fingers you loved to feel on your body. “Hold still now, bunny. You don't want to get hurt… or worse, now do you? He asked in a playful tone, letting his fingers - now tentacles slither over your face and neck. Tears started forming in your panicked eyes, the sensation of tentacles on your skin new and frightening when they slowly started choking you. Mahito was laughing menacingly as he watched a fresh wave of fear mixed with disgust wash over your face when one of the appendages slithered over your lips which you pressed into a thin line. “You need to open that little mouth of yours… or i might let them go through your nose” He hummed in amusement, proving his point by letting one of them move towards your Nostril. Your head was shaking violently from side to side, panic increasing as your tears streamed down your cheeks in thick streams now and he sighed, one tentacle pushing into your nostril to let your know he was serious while a look of disappointment started forming on his face - His once so obedient little human suddenly refused him.

Every single hair on your body was standing from the feeling which caused you to reluctantly open your mouth, the tentacle immediately removing itself from your nose and slithering over your lips, slowly ascending into your awaiting mouth. Your body was repulsed by it, gagging wildly at the salty taste the slime left behind on your poor tongue, making sure to rub itself all over your wet muscle so you had no other choice but to taste it. “Look at you, taking it like a good girl. Now close your pretty lips around it, treat it like my cock you love so much” He chuckled but it turned into a laugh when you were pleading him not to make you do this but Mahito wasn't asking you, he was demanding so you behaved like his good little human and did what he wanted, sucking on the tentacle as if its his cock. It took everything inside of you not to gag when you felt a second one slide into your mouth and down your throat, moans from your lover filling your ear when he saw how beautifully your throat was bulging from the intrusion until he decided you had enough, taking the tentacles out of your mouth and kissing you forceful, his tongue invading your mouth like the slimy tentacles did just seconds ago.

His face showed pure euphoria upon tasting your saliva mixed with the salty taste of his tentacles. His kiss distracted you from the way his other hand transformed now too, letting slender tentacles slither over your naked body that was at his mercy until you couldn't ignore the cold sensation anymore, crying out for him to stop but still not using your safeword, which would have been useless regardless. Mahito positioned himself behind you, your ass still propped in the air, your face now resting against the mattress. Wet tentacles slowly slithered over the globes of your ass and along your thigh, ultimately resting at your folds to pull them apart, giving your lover a perfect view of your pretty slit. “Look at you, little pet. Crying and screaming but your cunt is drenched” he mused, smirking at your miserable frame before spitting onto your core that was fully on display for him which made you whimper out of humiliation, feeling his saliva along with your juices slowly dribble down your thighs and staining the mattress beneath you. He was right - it felt disgusting and you wanted it to stop but at the same time it felt so good to be forced into submission by him, letting him do everything he wanted to your body. Unbeknownst to you, a moan slipped out of your lips when one of the tentacles slowly wound itself through your folds, missing every sensitive spot on purpose. This made Mahitos wolfish grin spread further, the tentacle stopping dead in its tracks, resting right next to your bundle of nerves. “What a naughty little thing you are, bunny. Enjoying this like a needy slut” He whispered the degradation in your ear before wiggling the slimy appendage over your clit in a barely there touch, making you cry out from the weird, yet intense sensation.

The way your juices mixed with the slime of the tentacle caressing your clit made it unbearable to you, whines and moans cascading out of your mouth in a desperate way, needing a little more to tumble over the edge than just the feather light touch but Mahito heard your prayers, the slimy appendage now adding more pressure to your sensitive clit, making your jaw slack with a silent scream. The wetness of it aided as lube, easily flicking over the nub until it had you screaming out loud in pleasure, the knot in your abdomen finally snapping and Mahito laughed at the mix of emotions on your face, pleasure and disgust when you realized just what gave you this mind blowing orgasm and that this would not be the end. Your fears were correct when you felt four tentacles play with your entrance, taking turns on slipping in the tiniest bit until two of them slithered in to spread your cunt open, opening you up for the third one. A scream escaped you, begging him to stop but it was only amusing him further, letting the tentacle grow in girth as it slowly pushed itself inside of you. You felt every nub inside of your walls and the way it wiggled inside you let you feel things you've never felt before. “There you go. Give up your little fight… accept the pleasure it brings” Mahito cooed, feeling the way you slowly stopped clenching around the tentacle, making it much easier

To slip it further inside of you, the two smaller ones which spread you open slowly joined the thicker one and stretching you further than you've ever experienced.

Your jaw hung wide open at this sensation, one tentacle pressing against your sweet spot as the other two rubbed against your walls and prodding at your cervix to give you pleasure. With your eyes closed you slowly allowed the sensations to make you feel good, another tentacle playing with your clit again had you whimpering for more, growing greedier by the minute. “Awh are three inside of you not enough?” your lover teased and slid another one back into your mouth to fuck your throat but this time you welcomed it, sucking on it like a pacifier. It muffled your moan when you felt another tentacle enter your stretched cunt, but there was no pain, the little appendage rubbing your nub made sure you're enjoying it all as two more sucked and pulled on your hardened nipples. Pure ecstasy spread through your body, moaning loudly around the tentacle in your mouth but your eyes shot wide open when you felt another small one massage the ring of muscles at your ass, slowly prodding into your puckered hole. “I can't believe you let a disgusting tentacle take your little anal virginity, aren't you disgusted by it? By yourself for feeling this much pleasure?” Mahito asked sinister as he pushed it further into your behind but you only shook your head - it didn't hurt and you the disgust was long gone. You knew he didn't mean it, he loved the way you were so eager to please him by letting him do everything to you, he would never shame you for feeling pleasure since that's exactly what he wanted, for his little experiment to discover new pleasure and the way you slowly succumb to it.

The torturous assault of tentacles lasted hours, your holes stretched and your poor body begging for a break from the continuous orgasms Mahito brought you with his newest experiment. “Give me one more and I'll let you rest” he cooed, pushing against your sweet spot repeatedly with a smaller tentacle as the thick one nestled itself into your womb, making you feel as full as never before. It was enough to have you screaming until your voice was hoarse and with a last flick against your clit he had you squirting all over the bed again, taking one tentacles after the other out of your abused cunt until only one remained on your clit along with the other inside of your behind. “I need to see you break, bunny. Think you can cum again just from this?” He asked, nibbling at your neck while one of the slimy appendages kept rubbing your clit as the other one thrusted into your puckered hole. Your head was shaking violently, overstimulated to the point where it started to be painful but you still didn't use the safe word and allowing him to continue with this torture until he had his fill from seeing you cum over and over just from the anal penetration until you passed out.

You don't know how long you were gone but your legs were aching, your holes sore which reminded you that this wasn't a nightmarish wet dream - it really happened and you felt like crying when Mahito pulled you closer into his arms. “Did we go too far today, my bunny? Does your tiny body need a break?” He cooed in a fake sympathy but you still appreciated his care, nuzzling your face into his chest to return to the safe space in his arms. You knew he didn't want to hurt you and he didn't, at least not physically. “You did so well for me today… such a good girl. My perfect little human” he whispered as he played with your hair, hoping you can fall asleep soon since he already cleaned you up while you were unconscious. Mahito may be a curse created out of hatred, unable to love but he felt something towards you, something that runs deeper than just his curiosity - your name was carved into his soul after all.

Networks: @enchantedforest-network @themovingcastlez @planetonet @bitchcraftinc

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #mahito x reader #mahito smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk mahito #curse x reader #mahito dc #jjk dc #—Rhys Kinktober 2023

[kiss-theggoat]

Gonna need a part two where the slashers realize their s/o is alive >:’(

Slashers Fix You Up

Slashers Included: Thomas Hewitt, Billy Loomis, Stu Macher, Asa Emory, Michael Meyers, The Sinclair Brothers

TW: Violence and Gore

Thomas Hewitt:

The wound to your stomach was deep. It tore through deep tissue and muscle, but lucky for you, Thomas knew exactly what to do.

Not only had he been stabbed like that, but he’d become really good at sewing and stitching up human skin.

You woke up, feeling groggy, but immediately recognized the basement you were in. You laid on Tommy’s workbench, shirt off and torso numb.

When you looked down you saw Thomas hunched over you, huge hands trying hard to delicately sew you up, fingers covered in your blood.

You whispered to him, and you could’ve sworn you saw his heart skipped a beat. He jumped up, immediately grabbing the side of your face with relief written all over his face, eyes wide and breath heavy. He wouldn’t know what to do with himself if he lost you.

Billy Loomis:

Nothing when like it was supposed to that night. Sydney got away, Stu stabbed him too hard, and the worst of all…he stood above you, watching your blood pool on the hardwood of Stu’s living room.

He bent down, putting pressure on your wound while looking around the room, taking deep breaths and trying to think rationally…he needed to get you out of here. He quickly lifted you, trying to ignore your pained groans. He hated seeing you like this.

The moment he got your arm around his shoulders and your feet on the ground, he heard them…sirens. He was conflicted. Relief washed over him. He knew you’d be getting help soon but…if he didn’t run…Syd would tell them everything. He’d go to jail, be found guilty for murder.

In that moment, he didn’t care. He helped you limp towards the front door, pushing it open. You’d lost too much blood…you didn’t even realize that Billy was sacrificing himself to save your life.

Stu Macher:

Stu watched his entire world fall apart when Billy stabbed you. He watched you fall, holding your gushing stomach, blood seeping from between your fingers.

He rushed to your side, hands covering your wound as he laid you back onto the ground.

“Just look at me. Don’t worry, keep looking at me.” He refused to let you look at your wound. He didn’t want you to be scared about how hurt you were. He lifted your hands to inspect your wound…he sighed in relief.

“It’s okay baby…the bleeding is slowing down…you’re gonna be okay…”

Asa Emory:

Asa never expected you to fall into one of his traps. He was beating himself up about it, but there was no time. He lifted you onto his operating table, covering your entire body with gauze.

He started slow, sutures and thread in his precise hands. You were covered in deep wounds, caused by rusty nails…he whispered his apologies, holding one hand as he poured antiseptic over you. It burned, it was unbearable…but you trusted him.

He carefully sewed each wound with a single suture, making sure to reassure you and stop the bleeding whenever it happened. It took him hours, but nothing would stop him from fixing you. Fixing your skin, fixing his love.

Michael Meyers:

For the first time in his entire life, he felt guilt. He felt a storm of emotions, but as he stared at your knife wound- the one his dumbass caused…- he knew it wouldn’t kill you. He’d never felt so terrible and so relieved in his life.

He quickly scooped you up, carrying you into the bathroom with shaking fingers. His hands had never shaken before…

He slammed open your medicine cabinet, hard enough to crack the glass, and popped open the first aid kit, sending gauze and band-aids onto the bathroom floor. You’d patched him up plenty of times so it should be easy…right?

Six butterfly bandages, four bandaids, and two complete rolls of gauze later, you felt like you might be suffocated by the first-aid supplies but…he’d tried his best. And, you weren’t bleeding anymore.

Sinclair Brothers:

The blow to the face had broken your eyebrow and sliced your skin, and the fall to the floor left you with a concussion and a sprained wrist. Vincent carried you downstairs gently, knowing he had the supplies to fix you up in his workshop.

All three brothers stayed by your side, and you were never alone over the course of the next week, especially while you were sleeping, until your concussion headache finally went away.

Your face was bruised and swollen and it hurt like nothing else you’d experienced, especially the cut on your eyebrow.

But, every morning when you walked downstairs, you received a kiss on the eyebrow from each Sinclair brother, and they all treated you like you were made of porcelain, even Bo.

#slasher x reader #slashers #horror movies #horror fanfiction #slasher x y/n #thomas hewitt x y/n #thomas hewitt x you #thomas hewitt x reader #billy loomis x y/n #billy loomis x reader #stu macher x reader #stu macher #asa emory #the collector #michael meyers #bo sinclair fanfiction #bo sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair x you #lester sinclair

[rusmii]

Out in California, I've been forward stroking, swim.

— how the bsd men FUCK you. ft. chuuya, dazai, tecchou, and ango x FEM!reader

⟢ reblogs greatly appreciated mwuah 🤍

c/ws::: ooc as fuck cause its smut. lots of cumming and theres sub ango too as well as impact play/slapping in angos part. MDNI

a/ns::: omg gasp runi finally dropped ?!?!?! neways song is based off swim by chase atlantic <3

✦ CHUUYA fucks you like there's no tomorrow. his version of fuck is love, he is a verse-service top and won't hesitate to put your needs above his. "so good f'me baby," he whispers little praises above you as he rams his thick cock into your cunt. chuuya, at the start, tries to be as gentle and careful as he could, but most times he loses himself to the pleasure and let's loose a little bit of his strength. his grip his bruising and will hurt pretty bad later, but his dick outweighs the pain—"nah, don't," he grunts in annoyance the moment you cover your face, hips still thrusting in and out as he prys your arms away from your face and pins them above your head using one hand. chuuya is the type of lover to make sure that you come first or together. it's an absolute must, and when chuuya cums, you can feel that shit plug you up with just a few spurts. his cum is thicky, creamy, goey, and a little bit sticky. even with condoms on, his cum is so hot, it feels as if you've been doing it raw.

"fucking—! sweetheart, 'm cummin, you feel so fuckin' g-ghn-good for me— fuck! aggnn... shiit.."

✦ DAZAI fucks you aggressively at first. you were nothing but a one night stand, someone who he could relieve his stress from and move on without complaint. however, this didn't seem to be the case for the mutual sex relationship you both set up. at the start, dazai is a dominant top, not allowing you to see him so vulnerable, and at this point of time, he still has his bandages on. "no darl'.. so sorry, maybe next time?" he would always make false promises for you to top him during the next session, but none of that happened—until the relationship changes for the better. it takes a while, but dazai finally opens up, becomes vulnerable and finally bottoms for you, nervousness in his system as he's stripped of everything, including his bandages—"ah! fuck! w-wait-mhn! tha-that feels sooo goood..!" he whines into the pillow, back arching as you ride his dick like tomorrow.

"gh—! [name]!! i- i feel it—uhnn! im- cu-cuhnn—!!"

✦ TECCHOU fucks you so passionately, you feel like shedding tears out of the pure love you feel. tecchou is a traditional dom-top, always concerned about making sure you're taken care of first. "are you alright? does it hurt?" he asks as he's bulldozing your pussy. tecchous dick is long, with a fat tip and thick base. he doesn't tell you this, but stuffing you full with his cock turns him on so much, he's able to cum within just a few thrusts inside your hole. tecchou isn't a moaner, more like a grunter, but that doesn't mean he isn't enjoying it, nah that man is probably under the pleasure more than you, cumming and stuffing your hole more than you could imagine. tecchou has thought of kids at one point in time, but with him being in the hunting dogs it just wasn't going to work out—so let him fuck his concerns away tonight first, then he can fuck his kids inside you in the future.

"i- i think—ghn! im- cummin' 'm cummin, please lemme cum—you're so good for - gh - me—hnn!"

✦ ANGO fucks you like a bottom bitch, he's the bottom getting bitched. he absolutely loves it when you ride his shit like you're rocking his world; everything is nothing but muddled into one the moment he feels your pussy wrapping itself around his dick. ango is a loud bitch, moaning and whining every time he feels a trinkle of pleasure—crying tears of pleasure whenever you slap him. ango himself didn't know how much into slapping he was— he fucking loves it when you slap his ass, thighs, chest, and even face—" 'm sorrryyy!! i won't move again! please - ride me—mhn!" he begs after you slapped his face for thrusting up without your permission. he cums fast and easily, being so turned on by you, he just can't help it! ango writhes in overstimulation every damn time, but he doesn't make an effort to move, loving every single round you pull out of him until you're done.

“i - [name] - ghnn—! im - sogoodsogood—!”

im gonna remake my taglist bleh

here’s a poll for what imma work on next

RUSMII 2024 . dont do the basic copyright shit. ty.

#₇₇₇༝ scriptures #hi I got a juicy fic coming out soon trust #chuuya x reader #dazai x reader #tecchou x reader #ango x reader #chuuya smut #dazai smut #tecchou smut #ango smut #bsd x reader #bsd smut