#and I like to be prompt! so having a clear ask box here just means that I'm caught up and efficiently answering them :)

[bookwyrminspiration]

i've never been so close yet so far from having an empty ask box something something agony oh it cuts like a knife /ref

#shitpost #i have the lowest number I've had in months. but over half of those are dialogue prompt requests #which means they're not quick to answer (not a bad thing. just takes time) #also to be clear getting asks is not a bad thing #but when I have a lot then I fall behind and some of them sit for a while #and I like to be prompt! so having a clear ask box here just means that I'm caught up and efficiently answering them :) #not that sending them is a burden or problem or anything #i'm just like. so close yet so far #such a low number and yet. it'll still be an effort #cause I wanna do the requests justice! #and can't work on them at the moment because I'm prioritizing secret santa #so some of them are going to be sitting for a hot moment #one day. one day I'll have a clear and caught up ask box #quil in the future how does it feel #how does it feel

[viennacherries]

Prompt suggestion <3 Rolan/Tav NSFW. Tav really likes it when Rolan speaks to her in infernal. She doesn’t understand it, but it doesn’t change the fact that it turns her on. He starts to notice her subtle reactions to when he curses or something in infernal. Which leads to bedroom shenanigans lol. My username is the same on A03 ^^

this has taken me a minute, mostly because i had to spend some time literally making up the infernal language for the purpose of this fic LMAO. if you're interested in my process it's in the end notes on ao3.

i changed the prompt a little though; rolan doesnt notice because he's very silly and keeps failing the perception check. lia notices immediently.

NSFW read on ao3 here

~~~

The first time Tav hears Rolan speak infernal, she doesn't even register it as a word. It slips past his tongue and it's all consonants and noises that she's not sure she could emulate properly with her non-tiefling tongue.

"Zurgan." He mutters it under his breath as he drops a pile of books.

Her quill stops midair where she's busy writing up an inventory of magical items they've found. With everyone else busy or gone from the city, she offered to help Rolan with organising the tower. It's been a nightmare, frankly. The previous tower master (she wont do him the privilege of speaking his name, the bastard) had apparently spent the last who-knows-how-many years stuffing things into random shelves and boxes.

She frowns as she tries to repeat the word, "Zu- Zurgan? What's that mean?"

Rolan jumps, clearly having forgotten she's in the room, "not zurgan, zurgan. It means- well, I don't know if it translates literally to common. It's... an expletive, I suppose ."

She laughs, "so it means 'fuck'?"

He huffs, and rolls his eyes, "I suppose that's a close enough approximation, yes."

"I don't think I've ever heard you swear before."

"Well," his brow is furrowed as he thinks, "I suppose I try not to, really. It's not becoming."

Tav snorts at that, "Gods, how old are you, 150? Besides, how is swearing in tiefling any different?"

"The language is called infernal, you uncultured swine. I'm a tiefling, I speak infernal."

"You speak something alright. Usually a crock of shi-"

"What did I say about it not being becoming, hm?"

She rolls her eyes at him, "so sorry, Master Rolan, please accept my humblest of apologies for disgracing your presence in such a regard."

He rolls his eyes at her, but she hears him snort and sees the quirk of his lip. "I suppose as far as apologies go, that one will suffice."

~~~

Several weeks later, Cal shouts through the door to the study where they're cataloguing evocation books, "Rolan! Lia and I are heading to the market, do you want us to pick up more of the wine you like?"

He laughs, which is rare enough in itself, and leans out the door to reply.

"Fazit drakon'ziz orum?!"

She hears Cal's responding cackle from down the hallway. "alright, alright, little drakon'ziz. I'll get 2 bottles, 'cos I love you."

When Rolan comes back in, chuckling to himself, Tav doesn't say anything. She wants to ask what it means, but she's... distracted.

Something about the way the words sound when he says them is... enticing. She's not sure if she could repeat them without butchering them, but even if she could she's sure they wouldn't sound as delicious as when they come from him. It's something about the rich tone to his voice, which she's always liked, coupled with the harsher edge it takes on when he speaks the foreign language.

Gods, she's been spending far too much time with him,

She clears her throat, "drakon'ziz?"

Rolan turns to her, still smiling, " drakon'ziz , but close. It means dragon."

His lopsided smile, aimed at her, coupled with the gruffness of the unknown word, is a little bit intoxicating.

"What about the rest of what you said? Fa- Fazit something?"

"'Fazit drakon'ziz orum?' It means 'does a dragon want gold?' It's a tiefling saying, basically means 'yes, obviously.' It just sounds better in infernal."

Tav agrees. It sounds rather lovely in infernal, in fact.

When Tav doesn't reply, he raises an eyebrow, "I could try and teach you some? Infernal, that is. If you'd be interested. Tell me something you want to be able to say, I'll try and teach you how to say it."

She thinks for a moment.

"What if I want to call someone a shit-head?"

He barks out a laugh as he rolls his eyes, "of course you'd just want to know how to insult people. I think the closest translation would be uzterku'zereb.  That means 'shit-for-brains'."

Despite the small jolt her stomach gives as he utters the phrase, she starts cackling. "That's even better!"

~~~

It's been about a month and a half since they started cataloguing everything in the tower, and it's basically become a nightly occurrence that Tav stays for dinner with them. Rolan has finally sat down at the dining table, after bringing all the dishes and cutlery through, and right as he hits the chair there's a sheepish voice from beside him.

"... Rolan~" It's Lia, in a singsong voice, and he huffs.

"What do you want?" It's a question, but it sounds more like an admonishment.

"How could you?! Assuming I want something from you. My beloved big brother. I look up to you so much. Also I left my drink in the sitting room."

You and Callum both laugh, and he makes a very dramatic show of pushing his chair back out with a huge sigh.

"You're such a..." He flails for a moment, as if the word in common has escaped him, "an uztanatez. Next time, you're getting it yourself."

She laughs, "My dear brother, I would fall on my sword for you."

"Mhm." He grumbles, " gladiz zurzum kuluz ..."

Cal nearly falls out of his chair laughing as Rolan trudges from the room, and Lia has a grin on her face from successfully riling him up and getting what she wanted.

Tav is blushing.

"What did he say?" She feels hesitant to bring attention to herself when she knows she's bright red, but she's also too nosy for her own good.

Lia looks at her and opens her mouth to answer, but pauses as she takes in Tav's face. Cal, blissfully, doesn't notice.

"Well the first bit was him calling her a suck up," he laughs through his explanation, "and the second bit was him telling her exactly where she could shove her sword."

She laughs, and thanks him for telling her. Lia is still looking at her. Her face warms more.

"What?"

"Hm." Lia smiles in a way that looks slightly threatening; the way Tav imagines a shark would smile at a seal before taking a huge chunk out of it. "Nothing, really. Only, you weren't that flushed before Rolan spoke in infernal. Got a thing for the devil's tongue, have you Tav?"

Cal furrows his eyebrows in confusion, before his eyes widen and his mouth drops in an 'o' of understanding.

She's about to deny it but she can feel that she's even redder now, so instead she buries her face in her hands. "Don't you dare! Don't you dare say anything!"

"Say anything about what?" Of course Rolan would walk back in now. He places Lia's cup in front of her and turns to Tav expectantly, but Lia speaks before she can.

"Tav is just embarrassed because she didn't understand what you said, she felt left out."

His face breaks into a look of confusion, "You shouldn't be embarrassed by that, Tav, you don't speak the language. Uztanatez-" Tav sucks in a breath, and Lia snorts, "means 'bootlicker'. Gladiz zurzum kuluz means... well... 'shove your sword up your rear'."

Cal and Lia are both sporting shit eating grins. Tav thinks now is a good time to pick a God and pray.

~~~

" Pulch'zer."

He says it as she walks through the door to the study one morning.

"Sorry, repeat that?"

His eyes widen, and his face flushes a deep crimson colour. She's never seen him blush before, or at least she's never noticed because of his skin's natural shade.

"Sorry I was just..." He averts his gaze, looking back at the paperwork he's working on, "I was just thinking out loud..."

She chuckles lightly. "Ah, that text will be kicking your ass then. Pulch'zer. What does it mean?"

He looks up at her again. His eyes lock with hers.

"You're close, it's not pulch'zer, it's pulch'zer . You have to put more emphasis on the 'Z' sound."

Gods, she needs to stop asking. He always ends up correcting her, and she always ends up going bright pink. He pronounces the words more precisely when he's teaching her how to say them, it drives her insane.

"Pulch- Pulch? Pulch'zer."

He chuckles, stands and walks over to her. "You're close, but now you're putting too much emphasis on it." He's only an arms length away from her now. " Pulch'zer ."

She gulps. He needs to stop repeating it.

"P- Pulch'zer." She can't tear her eyes away from him, she stares right into his gaze as she repeats it. He sucks a small breath in, so small it's barely noticeable.

"Yes. Very good."

There's a pause.

"So. What does it mean?"

He's flushing again. "It... Well. It..."

She raises an eyebrow, "that bad huh?"

"... it means 'beautiful'."

Tav's face twists in confusion. "What about your book is beaut-"

Rolan surges forward and plants his lips on hers. She gasps into it, the rest of her words swallowed by her inhale and his tongue. She sinks into it. His hands fall onto her waist, and he uses them to drag her closer, pulling the whole length of his body against hers. When he pulls away it feels far too soon, but in his defence he's breathless. He only leans his chest away, his hips still against hers.

"I wasn't talking about the book."

The look in his eyes is vulnerable in a way she's never seen him before. As though he desperately wants her to understand, and yet is terrified that she will. Like he's scared to fracture whatever comfortable thing they've fallen into together.

"Well..." She takes a deep breath, rests a hand on his chest. "Then I'd like you to know that I think you're very pulch'zer."

He sucks in through his teeth and lets out a single disbelieving laugh. "That sounds ridiculously good when you say it, you know."

She snorts, dismissive, "please, it's far better when you say it. I love when you speak infernal."

He stares at her.

She feels her eyes bug out of her head as what she said hits her. "I mean! Not that- I don't mean that like-"

"You love it? What does that mean?"

She can feel the heat in her face. Suddenly everywhere he's touching her is too much, she needs to fall through the floor to a new realm and start her life over with a fake name.

"I don't- I didn't mean-"

As she fumbles over her words, Rolan's face starts to lift into an understanding smirk. "Oh. I see. You love it."

He leans forward towards her, and his lips brush her ear.

"Tibiz plazet link'zon mezoq ?"

She shudders, "Rolan, I have no idea what you're saying."

He chuckles lowly against the shell of her ear. " Zedzit'n, nul'umne? Zede illizquit diko ."

Gods, it's torturous. He's dropped his voice an octave, giving the already heavy words an even more gravelled tone. Her breath is coming out in pants and she whines. The way it's affecting her is ridiculous.

He doesn't stop, " morentez me'zam? Notzo'illi ."

"Rolan, please."

He grins against her, and she feels his length pressing against her body through his robes. " Quid plaket, dilekt'miz ?"

" Rolan , common tongue, please . I want to know what you're saying."

"I said 'please what?'"

Tav huffs in irritation, "I don't know."

He brings his lips up to brush hers, smiling against her as she tries to pull him closer.

"Do you want me to kiss you again?"

She swallows hard around the lump in her throat and nods.

"Mhm. Ask me nicely."

The noise she lets out is embarrassing, a high pitched whine that she couldn't stop if she tried, but she feels his breath against her lips as he exhales in excitement.

"Kiss me, Rolan. Please."

His smile is wide against her, "as you wish, pulch'zer."

When he kisses her, his lips are gentle against hers. Soft and pliant, eager but restrained. When he parts them slowly, she responds in kind and finds his tongue with hers, and he rewards her with a deep, sensual moan from low in his throat. His lips are warm and soft, his mouth tastes of spearmint, his breath flows through her. She feels her small-clothes growing damp.

As he deepens the kiss his movements grow more insistent, more intense, and he squeezes her hips as he grinds her into him. She moans in response and the noise flips a switch in him. All of a sudden his lips are frantic, the kiss turning messy and needy, and his hands are running up and down her body as thought they don't know where to settle.

He pulls back enough to speak, his breath dancing along her lips, his voice barely above a whisper. " Nezkiz quid'mih fakiaz. Volui'illi tamd'umne ."

Tav moans, long and slow as the words rush over her skin, "Gods, Rolan. I wish I knew what you were saying. Fuck ."

He chuckles quietly, "perhaps I'll teach you Comprehend Languages. Then again... Forzit adv'illi."

She groans. "Rolan, please ."

He grins, grinding his length against her, "please, what?"

The huff she lets out is impatient, "you know what."

His mouth traces the shell of her ear again and she shivers. "Perhaps. But tell me anyway."

She groans, "please fuck me, Rolan."

He needs no further invitation. Rolan undresses them both rapidly, swift and efficient just as he treats his work, and they're both bare before each-other in a few moments.

When he looks over her, sweeping his eyes across her form, he lets out a low noise of appreciation. "Hells, Tav, you're beautiful."

She feels nervous, all of a sudden, bare before him, but she smiles despite it. "So are you."

He's back on her, trailing his lips along her throat and collarbone, leaving teasing bites and grazes with his canines. She's a whimpering, writhing mess beneath him but she doesn't care. She can feel his length pressed against her stomach, can feel the grooves of the door on her back, and she's absolutely aching with need.

"Is this okay? Are you comfortable?" His questions make her chest ache with a different kind of need to the one pulsing through her core.

"Yes, Rolan. Please, for the love of- fuck me against this door."

His moan in response to her words is loud and wanton. " Hells , Tav. Lift your leg for me."

She does, and he grabs under her knee, lifting it up so it wraps around his hip, the heel of her foot against the base of his tail while her other foot stays planted against the floor. His other hand comes between them, grips the base of his cock and rubs it against her folds. She throws her head back as she keens, and at the same time he lets out a groan closer to a growl.

"Fuck, you're so wet. Is- This is still okay? You want this?" His voice wavers with lust.

Hearing him curse is almost as incredible as hearing him speak infernal. "Yes , Gods if you don't-"

He's sliding himself into her before she can finish her threat, and the rest of her words fizzle out into a high pitched moan as she throws her head back. His length is ridged and she can feel every notch as it slides into her. He works his way into her slowly, thrusting only an inch at a time until his pelvis comes to rest against hers, and he folds over to rest his forehead against her shoulder.

His first half of his sentence is muttered, the second half directed at her, "Tam strikta , fuck. Ita infek'tum strikta. Tell me when you're ready, dilekt'miz."

"I'm ready, please, fuck me."

He silences his own moan by clamping his mouth over the meat between her neck and shoulder, and begins thrusting shallowly. The slide of him inside her, the ridges on his shaft dragging against her walls, has her tightening her leg around his waist and dragging him closer. He grunts through his mouthful of her skin and starts to pick up his pace, until he's thrusting hard and fast into her.

She's a mess, and she knows it, but it doesn't matter. She's digging her heel into his ass and arching her hips away from the door to get closer to him, head thrown back and eyes wrenched shut. It's too much, but it's not enough. She grabs his hand that isn't holding her knee up and places it round the back of her other thigh. He's a quick study as always, taking a firm hold on the back of her leg and hoisting her other leg up around him, so she's held up against the door by just his weight against her and his bruising grip. It changes the angle, he drives deeper into her, and they both moan in tandem.

He's speaking again, infernal dialect spilling from him freely into her skin, " Nezkiz. Nezkiz quam di'tez vellem. Quamdiu korpuz tuum'kontraz petivi. Vid'tez habzeq. Miz'tib animez'umne ." He speaks the words with a reverence that that has her keening, clenching around him.

"Rolan, I'm so close, fuck don't stop."

He shakes his head, thrusts into her harder, "Hells, I won't, Tav. I won't, I won't, adv'illi, adv'illi -"

The utterance of more quiet infernal words against her tips her over the edge, and she finds her release around him. His movements become stuttered, desperate, " Tez amorez. Tez amorez taz'multo. Perfik'miz. Amaz, amaz, num'quam latuz dezeraz. Morent'illi anim defendam."

He follows her over the precipice and empties himself inside her. She tightens her hold on him with her legs and kisses his neck as his hips twitch through his release, and as he stills they both try to find breath against each-other's skin.

"Gods, Tav." His voice is hoarse, "you- that was- I-"

She chuckles, which makes her walls clench and his hips stutter as he gasps at the feeling. "That was amazing, Rolan. What... Um. What were you saying?"

She pulls away to look at him, and his face is incredibly red. His freckles are barely visible through the violent blush. "Oh, um. Nothing- Nothing, really. Nothing important. Just... babbling. You know."

She laughs, slowly lowering her legs to the ground, both shuddering as he pulls himself from her. He mutters a quick incantation and they're both clean.

"You're going to have to teach me Comprehend Languages, now. I'm far too nosy to leave it at that."

"Hm. We'll see."

~~~

Translations:

"Tibiz plazet link'zon mezoq?" ("You like when I speak to you in my native tongue?")

"Zedzit'n, nul'umne? Zede illizquit diko." ("But you don't care, do you? It's not about what I say.")

"Morentez me'zam? Notzo'illi." ("Moaning for me already? Aren't I lucky.")

Quid plaket, dilekt'miz?" ("Please what, my beloved?")(he lies and tells her it means "please what?")

"Nezkiz quid'mih fakiaz. Volui'illi tamd'umne." ("You have no idea what you do to me. I have wanted you for so long.")

"Then again... Forzit adv'illi." ("Then again... Perhaps I won't.")

"Tam strikta, fuck. Ita infek'tum strikta. Tell me when you're ready, dilekt'miz." ("So wet, fuck. So tight and wet. Tell me when you're ready, my beloved.")

"Nezkiz. Nezkiz quam di'tez vellem. Quamdiu korpuz tuum'kontraz petivi. Vid'tez habzeq. Miz'tib animez'umne." ("You have no idea. You have no idea how long I've wanted you. How long I've craved your body against mine. I have dreamt of having you like this. My soul burns for you.")

"adv'illi" ("I won't.")

"Tez amorez. Tez amorez taz'multo. Perfik'miz. Amaz, amaz, num'quam latuz dezeraz. Morent'illi anim defendam." ("I love you. I love you so much. You complete me. Please, please never leave my side. I would protect you to my dying breath.")

#bg3 #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fic #bg3 smut #bg3 fanfic #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 fanfic prompt #bg3 requests #bg3 tav #rolan x tav #rolan bg3 #bg3 rolan #rolan #holy rolan empire #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate iii

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

All In 6

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power imbalance, low self esteem, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you meet a mysterious man on a night out with your sister. (petite!reader)

based on the winning option for this poll

Characters: casino owner!Bucky Barnes

Note: sleepy af

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

“You need a box, doll?” Bucky flutters his fingers toward your plate, “you don’t gotta finish all that.” 

You look down at the untouched half of your sandwich. You’d barely poked at the pesto salad on the side either. You can’t help it; your stomach is swirling like a storm. Aside from that, you’re so self-aware that you make certain each bite is tidy and small.  

You bring the napkin to your lips before you answer, “oh, sure, I guess. Um, thank you.” 

“You have a big breakfast?” He wonders as he lifts his glass, squinting at its emptiness. 

“I...” you sniff. You didn’t eat at all. “I’m too nervous.” 

You cringe as your honestly flows free. You don’t know why you said that. Maybe it’s the similarly empty glass in front of you. He smiles, his dimples showing handsomely on his bearded cheeks. 

“You don’t gotta be,” he sets the glass down, his forearm across the table. “Is it me? I make you nervous.” 

You look away and cup your chin. You purse your lips and inhale slowly. You dare to face him again. You nod into your hand. 

“What about me makes you nervous?” He wonders, his eyes sparkling. It has to be obvious. So obvious that he must be teasing you. 

“You know,” you murmur. 

“Genuinely curious,” he clears his expression and sits back, “we’re having a good time. Good chat. So... you’re nervous, why?” 

“Because you’re...” your brows squiggle, “you. I’m just me.” 

“And what’s so bad about being just you?” 

You scoff, “I think... maybe you made a mistake. I’m not... anything.” 

“What does that mean?” He prompts. 

Before you can answer, Hailee appears. The slim server offers you a refill. Bucky waits for you to answer first. You decline and he puts his hand over his own glass. 

“We’ll take the cheque,” he says and she flits off to do his bidding. He returns his attention to you before you can shrink further, “well... what do you mean?” 

Your eye drift evasively. He just latches on and doesn’t let go. It’s overwhelming. You watch Hailee as she taps the tablet on the bar top across the roof. You glance at Bucky again. 

“I’m not tall or thin or a supermodel,” you say quietly. He leans in as he tilts his head thoughtfully. 

“If I wanted that, that’s who would be sitting here with me. I don’t mind that you’re a little small. It’s... I like it, actually. And a supermodel? Doll, those types got nothing on you.” 

You touch your cheeks then drag your hands away, “thanks, but...” 

“But?” He echoes. 

“Nothing. Nothing,” you assure him meekly, “I just... I’m not sure about all this.”  

Hailee once more returns. She hands Bucky the bill and he doesn’t even look at it as he slides his wallet out of his pocket. He hands her his card and the slip of paper. Once more, she’s off. 

“Not sure?” He says. 

“Sorry, I just...” once more you look at the server as she swipes his card. When you look back, Bucky’s watching you intently, “please keep your money. You paid for lunch, that’s enough.” 

“But doll--” 

“Please, I don’t feel right taking it,” you put your palms out and drop your hands, “thank you for lunch but I’m not cut out for this.” 

“Hm,” he clicks his tongue and leans his chin on his knuckles, “don’t decide right now. I get it. It’s a lot at once. So think about it and get back to me.” 

“I... I’m telling you,” you wilt, “I don’t think... I’m not what you think I am.” 

“I have no idea what you are, doll,” he extends his fingers under his chin, “but I like what I see and I want more.” 

You shakily bring your hand to your neck. He can’t mean it. He can’t want you. No way. If you say yes, how long does that last? You didn’t come here for lunch or an ‘arrangement’. You need a job. You need something sustainable. 

Besides, you never thought you’d ever consider being a prostitute. That’s what he’s suggesting, isn’t it? You’re pathetic but you have some standards. 

You sigh. You said no once, maybe more, maybe not firmly enough, but he’s not hearing you. So you will ‘think about it’ and repeat yourself later. 

“Alright,” you agree as you lean back and pull your hands into your lap. 

“All I’m asking for is a chance,” he says. Your heart pulses tightly. He’s asking you? “Let’s get your leftovers packed up and I'll take you home.” 

“Oh, uh, I can get a cab--” 

“Nah,” he waves you off, “I’m here. Merv’s gotta get me back to the casino as it is.” 

🃏

“You’ll call me, won’t you, doll?” Bucky asks as Merv stops outside the curb of your mother’s house. 

You peek up through the tinted window and back at the man beside you. He shamelessly has his arm stretched over the seat above your shoulders, the scent of his cologne invading your nostrils. You nod dumbly before you process his words. 

“Yeah, I will,” you assure him as you undo your seat belt and untangle your purse from the strap. 

“Don’t leave me hanging,” he pulls his arm away and brushes your shoulder then down your sleeve. 

“I won’t, like I said... I’ll think about it,” you reach for the handle and he hums. 

“I had a good time. I like talking to you, doll.” 

You stop yourself from fleeing like you so desperately want to do. You turn back to him. You’re struck by him, not for the first time. Someone like him noticed you and did all this. It feels like you’re drowning. You can barely think straight. 

 “Me too. It was really nice,” you breathe. 

He stares at your, almost expectantly, and his lips curve slightly. Are you forgetting something? Heat speckles over your cheeks. Is he leaning in? 

“Hey, don’t forget your leftovers,” he sits back and reaches to the other side of the seat, picking up the box. 

“Oh, thanks,” you take it, your fingers touching his. 

“Don’t let me keep you, ‘cause I will,” he winks, “I’m sure you got someone waiting for you.” 

“Uh, yeah, my mom won’t be home yet but...” you suppress your irrelevant thoughts. You’ll give the sandwich and salad and to Roxie. She never complains for free food. “Yeah, er, thanks.” 

He chuckles and claps his hand down on your leg, “too sweet, doll. It’s my pleasure and there’s a lot more where that came from.” He squeezes and removes his hand, “just making a last-ditch case for myself.” He inhales and his shoulders rise and he fixes his collar, “have a good one, alright? Take it easy, think...” 

“I will,” you affirm once more, “er, bye.” 

You open the door and barely keep from tripping onto the curb. You peer back one last time and attempt a smile, trying to hide the sinking pit in your chest. You don’t need to think about it. You simply cannot give him what he wants. 

You shut the door and back up. You stand cluelessly and wait. When the car doesn’t move, you spin and scurry away. God, how much more awkward can you get? 

You resist the urge to look back as you let yourself in through the front door. The TV babbles from the next room as you twist the lock. Roxie lazes across the couch as the fan oscillates over her. The summer heat has the space stuffy and sticky. The rented house doesn’t have central air and the portable AC crapped out last year. 

“Hey,” you come up to the back of the couch, your anxiety still buzzing behind your ears. You feel different and you feel like she’ll sense it in an instant. You almost want her to say something. 

She doesn’t look away from the screen as she grumbles back at you. 

“Um, mom’s not home yet, right?” 

“Don’t think so,” she yawns, her arm draped above her head against the arm rest. “It’s like three. You sleep all day?” 

You frown. She usually sleeps later, granted, she works until sunlight most nights. 

“No, I had an interview.” 

“Huh, Wendy’s?” She asks. It’s probably an innocent question and a fair assumption, but it still cuts like an insult. 

“No, uh, whatever, I don’t think I got it.” 

“Too bad,” she says. 

You leave her. She’s too enraptured with her reality TV binge. You suppose if you were just waiting to start working, you might just want to shut off too. That’s exactly what you want in that moment. To stop thinking about everything. 

It’s not just Bucky and his offer or whatever you should call it. It’s about your mom and Roxie and being the resident disappointment. You don’t like being dead weight but it seems like it’s all you’ll ever be. There’s more than just yourself to think about in this and yet you just can’t see yourself saying yes. 

You don’t really know what you’re saying yes to. What is it exactly that Bucky wants from you? Sunny lunches and conversations about disco music? You don’t think that’s it but you’re too afraid to think about the implication behind his proposition. 

So you won’t. You won’t-- you can’t accept it. You can’t bring yourself to do... that for money. If you did and your mother ever knew the truth, you shudder to think. No, you can tell an easier lie. 

Sorry, mom, didn’t pan out. Again. But I’ve been applying all around. I’ll get something. 

🃏

The first text Bucky sends, you respond to. It’s the same day as your interview. No, that’s not what it was. He sends a good night and you echo the sentiment. It’s easier to pretend behind a screen. 

You don’t sleep well despite his tidings. You toss and turn and don’t drag yourself out of bed until noon. Your mom’s already at work and you can’t stand to face her. Not since you told her it was another dead end. Roxie’s snoring in her room. 

You go out on the back steps and sit in the sun. It’s all muddled. You know you shouldn’t. You won’t. That’s not you. And even if you could find the courage to say yes, you’re just not that girl. You aren’t the one to be flaunted on a rich guy’s arm. Or the kind to go for manicures and to wear layers of contour. And that’s what he’ll want, even if he says now, it isn’t. Men just want pretty things and you’re not. 

The days pass in a similar idle daze. Every night, he texts. A little back and forth but you say you’re tired and check out after his usual, ‘sweet dreams, doll.’ Two days, three days, four, five, six. A whole week and you know that you have to say it. No. It’s almost as hard as a yes would be. 

When the ‘good morning’ pops up in your notifications, you’re frozen. You can’t even fake it. You can’t hit the automated reply generated by the app. You just lock your phone and put it in your nightstand drawer. You’re a coward, just like you’ve always been. 

You scroll through the job boards. You’ve been spending most of your waking hours trawling them. The postings don’t come as quickly as you apply. Some, you’re sure, you’ve submitted your resume to at least twice. Well, that shows dedication, right? 

You hear your mom come home just after five. You finally sit up from your chronic hunch and groan at the pang between your shoulders. Ugh, that’s not good. You get up and come out as your mother sighs and drops her purse on the table. 

“Hey, I took some drumsticks out,” you say, “I’m gonna do the buffalo sauce.” 

“Oh, hon, that’s amazing, I’m so tired,” she drops into a chair and props a foot on her knee, rubbing her arch, “I need new insoles.” 

You watch her guiltily, chewing your lip. Even if you’re not going to say yes, you almost wish you’d taken that thousand dollars. She wouldn’t have to do overtime so much. You cross your arms. 

“What do you want with it? We got some of the crinkle fries or--” 

The doorbells chimes and you hesitate. It isn’t often it rings. Not for anyone by the landlord on an impromptu visit. You peer over at the same time as your mom. She sends you a curious look as she stands. 

She hobbles away and you feel guilty for letting her. You shy away and wait by the counter. You listen to her footfalls and the schlock of the front door latch as she slides it back. It opens with the usual squeak and you hold your breath as you listen. A low drone meets your mother’s exhausted hello. 

Oh. It wouldn’t be... It can’t be. You assure yourself that you don’t recognise the timbre but even your denial isn’t that strong.  

Slowly, you make your way to the hall and creep down towards your mom as she keeps the door half-way shut against her. It’s him. You hear him say your name. Oh gosh. 

“I’m just following up on her interview. I called but maybe her battery died?” Bucky says. 

You wince and near your mom. 

“Uh, yes, she’s here, I’ll just go--” 

“Mom,” you interject and she jumps in surprise. 

“Oh,” she trills with laughter, “there she is.” 

She lets the door open as you step up next to her, your chest fraught with dread. You stare at Bucky as his blue eyes bore into you. Your mom touches your elbow gently. You’re suddenly overly conscious of your pajama pants and baggy tee. 

“I’ll let you two... chat,” she retreats and leaves you there to his mercy. You can’t beg her to stay without giving yourself away. 

As she heads back down the hall, you step outside and draw the door shut. You know better than to trust her not to eaves drop. How many times had she listened through the doorway when Roxie had one of her boyfriends over. 

“Hey, doll,” Bucky crosses his arms. Is he mad? Does he know you were ignoring him or does he really think your phone died?

“Hi, uh...” 

“You didn’t answer my texts,” he intones. 

“Um, yeah, I... I’ve been... distracted.” 

He nods, a skeptical wrinkle in his forehead, “sure. It's been a week, lots of time to think.” 

You gape up at him. He wants an answer. Now. You have one, but you just can’t say it. You’re silent as tension roils in the humid air. He swoops back a dark lock but doesn’t break his gaze. 

“Look, I... I appreciate your offer and everything else but what you’re asking... if my mom knew...” 

“Hm, yeah,” he puts his hands on his hips, “I thought of that too. You’re a sweet thing and I can see she loves you. It’s unorthodox but I only wanna take care you. Not everyone will understand that.” 

“Right, so I don’t think--” 

“Well, I think she’d be more suspicious if you walked in there and told her I came all the way here not to offer you a job,” he insists, “don’t you?” 

“Y-yeah, but--” you sputter. 

“So, she doesn’t need to know why I’m here, does she? You can tell her you’re working at the casino.” 

“Sure, but I don’t...” you shake your head and look down. He’s right.  

If you tell your mom you missed out on another job, you don’t think you could ever look her in the eye again. It wouldn’t just be another let down but an actual lie. You have an opportunity here. Maybe not the one you thought, but it’s money. After years of living off your mom’s hard work, you owe her. What’s a secret to her not having to work twelves? 

“We get along, don’t we?” He asks. 

You nod. He’s been less than unkind. You can’t really name a single fault on his part. 

“So, I don’t get it. The money, it’s just a bonus,” he explains, “don’t think of it as me paying you to spend time with me, so much as us enjoying each other and both getting the perks from that.” 

“But... but...” you wet your lips with your tongue and clamp them tight. 

He’s cornered you. If you had a few more hours, you could’ve found the strength to take your phone out and type out your rejection but face-to-face? You’re hopeless and you think he knows that. He watches you expectantly. He isn’t hoping, he knows. 

You blow out between your lips and turn your head away, “she can’t ever know.” 

“Doll, for you, I'll keep my lips sealed,” he says, “whatever you want, you got it. That’s the deal.” 

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #au #casino au #all in #mcu #marvel #avengers #captain america #winter soldier

[parkersbliss]

Flustered | F. Hargreeves

pairing: five hargreeves x fem!reader

wc: 903

warnings: sexual innuendo?

synopsis: ever since five retried, he’s been a lot more affectionate with you

requests: CLOSED

prompts: 043: “Your hands are really soft.” 054: “They have everyone.” “Not you.” “I’m the exception.” 067: “Nice hickey. Where’d you get it?”

—

“Hi, Luther, Klaus, Diego!” You greet happily. Five doesn’t bother and just pulls out his chair.

“What’s wrong?” Later said through a mouthful of Chinese takeout. “You look happy.”

You come up next to Five, and he pulls a chair out for you, making your cheeks heat up at the small action. “Why can’t he be happy?”

“Well, he’s Five. Always so… bitter.”

You shrug. “They hate everyone.”

“Not you.”

“I’m the exception.”

“I am plenty happy,” Five spoke, taking a seat. “Had a nap and shvitz, what does a man need?”

“Brother’s who don’t eat like barn animals?” Klaus suggests.

Both Diego and Luther look to Klaus, mouths full of noodles, proving his point.

You sit down, smiling at the three brothers. You're dressed in the same thing as Five, a soft bathrobe that says “Hotel Obsidian.”

Klaus grins at you, and you raise a brow. “Nice hickey. Where’d you get it?”

“What?” You practically scream, pulling back the collar of your bathrobe.

Diego snickers, “Seems like Five got a little more than a Shvitz.”

Luther nods. “Yeah, (Y/N) looks like she’s gonna die of embarrassment.”

Klaus claps. “Oh my god, I’m so happy for you two! How was it?”

Five blinked at his brother. “It’s none of your business.”

“Oh, why not? We’re bros!”

Five sighs, looking at you, then back to Klaus. “It was… nice.” You basically die in your seat at his choice of wording. He notices and chuckles, grabbing your hand in his. The three brothers whistle, and you shrink further into your seat.

“Your hands are really soft,” He whispers in your ear.

“Five!” You whine, feeling like you might explode at all the attention and affection. You and Five mostly kept your relationship on the down-low, seeming it was the most concerning issue the past month.

“So I’ve been thinking through our little timeline snafu, and I’m pleased to report that in my professional, expert opinion: we are totally in the clear.”

“Awesome!”

“Huh.”

“Great! So everything’s totally fine?” Luther asked.

“More or less. I mean,” Five hesitates, smiling. “There is one small thing. But it’s nothing we can’t manage.”

Five hands you one of the carry-out boxes, “Choi mein, your favorite.” And you smile softly, mumbling a thanks to him. He just smiles back, “Anytime.” And your stomach flips when he presses a soft kiss to your cheek. You actually think you might die this time.

“So, spit it out, boomer!” Diego mumbles through his noodles.

“Fine, Diego, it’s like this. Dad didn’t adopt us as babies, but those babies still existed here,” Five explained as you take a bite of your own meal.

Klaus frowns. “Awww.”

“We just grew up in different places with different people.”

“So?” Diego questions.

“So where are they now? Odds are we each have identical versions of ourselves walking around out there living completely different lives.”

Luter gasps excitedly. “Our doppelgängers!”

“That’s a made-up word,” Klaus dismisses.

“No, no, I learned all about this in Texas. Tell them about the paranoid psychosis, Five!”

“It’s paradox,” You correct.

“Oh, whoa, whoa, whoa, I thought you said this wasn’t a problem?”

“Okay, yes,” Five admits. “Technically, if you’re near your Doppel for too long, you’ll go insane. So if you ever see your other self—”

“Kill them.”

“Sleep with them.”

“… avoid them."

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Luther asked, giving both his brothers a skeptical look.

“Oh, come on, as if you wouldn’t climb Luther mountain,” Klaus teases. The look on Luther’s face tells you enough about what he’s thinking.

“Wait, how are we supposed to guarantee we don’t cross paths with ourselves?”

“Easy. I mean, we’re the Benetton of superheroes, born all around the world until dad brought us here, which he no longer did. Doppel’s probably aren’t even in the same time zone as us.”

“That’s true,” Luther mumbles.

Diego nods. “Yeah.”

“Would you pass the moo shu?” Five asked, reaching across the table, and Luther does so. Suddenly, Diego leaves in a rush, and you shrug it off.

“So how long have you two been…” Klaus trails off, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Gross, Klaus,” Five said, before adding. “We’ve been together for a while now.”

“Oh, wow,” Klaus sighs. “That’s so cute. I mean, (Y/N) is so sweet, and you’re so… you!”

You giggle at that, and Five rolls his eyes, “Thanks, Klaus.” Five grabs his takeout and a pair of chopsticks before taking your hand and helping you off your seat.

“You didn’t have to do that, Five,” You mumble, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.

“I know, darling, but I wanted to,” He replies, and you swear you’re gonna pass out.

Five must notice because he waves his brothers goodbye and leads you back to the hotel room. His hand intertwines with yours, and your face is even hotter now.

“You’re easily flustered, darling,” Five said, opening the door to his room.

“You’re not usually so forward, that’s all,” You shrug.

“Well, I’m retired, so I get to spend the rest of my life loving you.”

You hide your face in your hands at his comment. “Five!”

He chuckles, peeling your hands away carefully. “There you are, pretty girl.” Five cups your face in his hands, pressing a tender kiss to your lips that has you internally screaming.

“The rest of our lives is just gonna be this,” He promises.

“Really?”

“Really.”

— END —

🏷 five taglist: @clearbasementvoid @halfumbrella @esmedith @navs-bhat @alexxavicry @thelaststraw3 @rainbows-r-nice05 @gcldtom @bokuakadaily @3ternalreal1ty @umbrellatte @hahaspoilerhaha @mi1kobitch @analuizafernandescavalcante @icarus-star @yuki1s--note @m4nd0l0r @ells-graveyard @eichenhouseproperty @iaevs @oneirataxia-girl @ay4kshalatus

#five hargreeves #five hargreeves x you #five hargreaves x reader #five hargreeves x reader #five x you #five x y/n #five x reader #number five x reader #number five #tua five x reader #tua five #tua #the umbrella academy #tua season three #tua s3 #the umbrella academy season 3 #aidan gallagher #five headcanons #five imagine

[noeou]

DATING ADVICE 4 DUMMIES.

asking your crush for dating advice, only to use it on them.

includes: ace trappola, jamil viper, and floyd leech. ( x gn!reader )

next parts: currently unavailable.

contains: pure fluff headcanons and drabbles. more old formats because this is an old prompt, may come back to this format tho.

ACE TRAPPOLA

he’s far from experienced when it comes to this so he’ll also suggest going to trey or cater, even vil! but his heart couldn’t take helping you win another’s.

if you insist, he doesn’t want you to get embarrassed when you attempt to ask the person out so he gives you very basic stuff instead of bad advice.

though he wants to give you bad advice, as mean as it sounds.

he gets a lot quieter and fidgety, finding every excuse to leave in the least obvious way possible (spoiler: he failed.)

“hey, can i ask you a question?” you asked, feet falling into step with his as you made your way to your next class.

“yeah yeah, shoot!” ace slung an arm around your shoulder as you walked, so you’d not get swept away from the oncoming crowd of students.

“ah, well.. you see, there’s this boy—”

“‘s he giving you trouble?” ace raised a brow curiously, subconsciously tightening his grip around you.

“no no, nothing like that.” you hid your smile, letting out a sigh. “i need your advice… asking him out. like on a date.”

ace’s arm became dead weight around you, immediately pulling away from you.

he hesitated, filling the silence by clearing his throat, covering his frown with his now free hand. "oh. i think i understand."

an innocent joy laced into your features; if this weren't the context, there wouldn't be a bittersweetness in his heart at the sight of it.

"so you can help me?" you asked.

"no." he crossed his arms, watching your enthusiasm disappear. "why on earth would you come to me for that? trey and cater are ten times better at this kind of stuff."

you sighed, "it doesn't matter, you must have something!"

“yeah, i guess. ask them to meet you at sam’s or something. then take them where you please, when they say yes.”

“you think they’ll say yes?” your grin returned at the thought of it.

“mhm, imma head off.” ace nodded as to say goodbye, wanting to put a distance between you both as soon as possible.

“wait wait—” you grabbed his wrist, panickedly, “i won’t get the chance to request an audience at sam’s if you run off..”

“you want moral support?”

you stared at him, dumbfounded, “no, think more… outside the box, as they say.”

a mess when he puts the dots together. during last block before dismissal, what you were implying clicked. the thought of it made focusing near impossible.

best believe he was the first one out of class and was early to meet you at sam’s.

still, any person that approached the shop gave him a sense of nervousness that he may have misread the situation.

“oh my.. i invited you here and you got here before me. were you waiting long?” you placed your bag on the table ace was seated out, desperately searching for the courage you had this morning.

“just ask me.” had deuce not slipped up about ace’s reciprocated feelings, you would’ve misinterpreted his glare for anger.

sheepishly you chuckled, “wh— uh, well… if you know what im gonna ask, why don’t you just answer?”

not that he’d admit, he wanted to hear it from you but this’ll do for now. confirming his suspicions, his cold gaze melted to a warmer one. one you preferred more than the former.

JAMIL VIPER

much like ace, he thinks worst case scenario. i mean, what are you supposed to think when your best friend asks for ‘boy advice.’ but once you clarify, he still couldn’t be more confused.

while he wanted to recommend focusing on school, he wasn’t completely sure if he wanted it for your success or his selfish hope.

withholding his thoughts, he recalled what he remembered the romance movies his sister would watch at home, as if they were realistic.

it wasn’t his intention to give you the worst advice possible, he just didn’t know what else to tell you.

maybe asking jamil for dating advice while he was on an unstable ladder, helping you polish one of the many dusty lightbulbs in ramshackle wasn’t the smartest idea.

he almost fell and hurt himself because of the mini heart attack you caused him.

“ow.” he sighed, grabbing his ankle.

in a rush you went to grab him an ice pack, apologizing profusely, “where does it hurt?”

jamil studied your expression as you put pressure on his ankle with the ice pack, still going on with apologizes.

it was times like this that made him think that your feelings were for him, but it could be a misunderstanding on his part.

“who is he?”

you looked up at him, confused.

“it will affect my answer.” he sighed.

“oh.. i, uh. you can’t know.” you pulled back, awkwardly.

the silence held an unfamiliar undertone that you couldn’t quite place.

jamil struggled to his feet, looking anywhere but you, “i’ll head off now, i’ll take the necessary herbs to prevent swelling. thank you for your time.”

the rest happens over text, late into the night. yes, he was still thinking about it then.

when you used the advice on him, he thought you meant to text someone else (something kalim does often.)

he’s very relieved, in the end. don’t let him forget how nervous he was when you originally asked, though.

the brightness of your lock screen lit up your dark room with a ‘ping!’ you didn’t know how to react to the message you reviewed this late into the night.

jamil: just ask him.

after a few deleted messages, you managed to ask him why he was still up before placing your phone back down.

jamil: can’t sleep.

____: wanna call??

jamil: i cant

[ you reacted with a ‘?’ ]

____: is smth wrong why are u being so dry wtf ??

____: don’t leave me on read.

____: i need to call u to tell u smth

____: oh come on

____: fine i like u

[ you blocked this number ]

not even ten minutes later, you could hear the clicking of pebbles against your window.

you peeked out and were greeted by the vice house warden. quickly your grabbed a paper, scribbling something on it and taping it on there.

were you petty for taping ‘Read at 11:28PM’ on your window? yes. would you get scolded for it tomorrow? yes. but it’s worth it.

FLOYD LEECH

funny enough, he was just asking jade for advice on making you take a hint. you don’t understand how badly jade wanted to snitch, but your conversation was already so awkward, it hurt enough.

definitely tried to put on the ‘heartthrob’ act, only making it cheesier than necessary. he didn’t really give you any advice, more of like reasons you should date him instead.

he hadn’t a doubt it was him you wanted to ask out, but he wanted to seal the deal (if that makes sense.)

“hey, shrimpy!” floyd waved enthusiastically at the sight of you.

a smirk made its way on jade face as he greeted you, “y/n. can i get you anything?”

“no, i’m alright. thank you, jade.” you turned towards the other, “i wanted you— i need to speak with you.”

ignoring the ‘he’s already yours’ from jade, floyd whisked you off to talk in a more private setting.

“what’s up?” he asked, using your shoulder as an armrest.

you looked up at him nervously, “i was wondering, say.. well, actually let me ask; have you ever had a crush before?”

“yeah, you.” he replied nonchalantly.

your face became warm at the thought of the different implications the statement held, choosing the safest one. “me? well, yes i have as well. or i do, present tense.”

“what are you talking about, shrimpy? i didn’t ask anything.” he returned.

“nevermind. i just wanted to ask will you—”

“yes.” he teased once more.

“no.” you nervous gaze turned into one of irritation. “will you give me advice for asking someone on a date, romantically.”

for the first time, the eel was genuinely surprised. “it’s not me?”

while you weren’t a liar, you couldn’t admit to it yet. you’re plan did backfire, but you’d be sure to have the last laugh.

when you went to thank jade for his words of wisdom, you didn’t notice his twin behind you. the amount of teasing you received made you regret going through with it.

bragged to azul and jade nonstop about it later, honestly, as he should.

“what is that i hear, shrimpy?” your eyes widen at the familiar voice.

jade let out a chuckle, prompting you to toss your napkin at him.

“hey, floyd! long time no see.” you waved awkwardly.

floyd slid into the booth seat across from you, “did you seriously ask my brother for advice on asking me out?”

“like you didn’t do the same.” jade glared, “kicking me won’t shut me up.”

“anyways, have i told you how adorable you are, shrimpy?”

#twisted wonderland #twst x reader #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland headcanons #twisted wonderland x reader #twst imagines #twst headcanons #twst fluff #ace trappola #ace x reader #jamil viper #jamil x reader #floyd leech #floyd leech x reader

[headkiss]

Hello! For a Christmas prompt, I was thinking maybe secret Santa with Eddie (and the hellfire gang) or first Christmas gift with Eddie who employs the assistance of Dustin to figure out how to make it the most perfect gift ever?

hiiii i went for the second one and i hope u like it <333 | 0.6k words, fluff and fem!reader

“What do I get her?” Eddie asks.

“I don’t know. You’re the one dating her,” Dustin’s quick to reply.

Eddie should know by now that asking for Dustin’s help comes with his attitude and sarcasm. He should also, in theory, know what to get his girlfriend for Christmas but here he is.

“Obviously, but it’s our first Christmas together,” he picks at the hem of his three quarter sleeves. “It has to be good, you know?”

“How about some jewelry? Girls like that,” Dustin shrugs.

“Did you get Suzie jewelry?”

“No, because Suzie is not like other girls. Duh.”

“I don’t even know why I try with you,” Eddie shakes his head.

It’s later that night when the idea comes to him. You’re not someone who needs a gift, you’ve told him multiple times he doesn’t have to get you anything. What kind of shit is that? Of course he’s gonna get you something.

He was sitting on the couch in the trailer, mindless TV playing, fiddling with his guitar pick necklace when he thought about it.

You fiddle with that necklace of his, too. When you’re cuddling, your head on his chest or his shoulder. It’s a habit you share, and he’s noticed that you don’t have a necklace on usually. That maybe you’d like one, too.

He gets up and gets to work. Finds an empty chain in his collection of jewelry, grabs one of his many picks. He nicks his finger cutting the hole into it, but he doesn’t mind.

Then, because he’s Eddie, he has to include music as a gift, too. He makes you a mixtape. Songs that remind him of you, that you have memories of. Cheesy shit that he’d never hear the end of from Dustin or Steve.

It was all worth it to see your reaction when he gave it to you.

You’re sitting on his bed across from him when he hands you the box.

“Eddie, I told you not to get me anything!” Though your wide smile tells him this was definitely the right move.

“Just open it, would you?”

“Okay, okay.”

You rip the wrapping paper away carefully, as if you wanted to preserve his wrapping job even though it was messy and had much more tape than necessary. You see the mixtape first, reading every song title he scrawled onto it.

“It’s perfect,” you say and you mean it.

Even just months into your relationship, you’re sure that there’s nobody better for you than Eddie. He’s sweet, always seems to be able to make you smile or laugh, and he’s romantic even if he keeps it hidden. It’s clear in the way he holds you, soft and secure. In the way he looks at you.

“There’s more,” he points to the necklace that had fallen to the bed.

You pick it up, look at it and then at him. You didn’t think he’d notice how often you fiddled with the one he wears. Then again, he seems to notice a lot of things.

“Eddie.”

“You like it?”

“Love it. So much.” You hold it out for him to grab, “will you put it on for me?”

“‘Course.”

He moves to stand behind where you sit on the bed, sweeps your hair over your shoulder for you to hold out of the way. His fingertips graze your skin as he places it around your neck, fighting with the clasp a bit before getting it.

He leans down to kiss the side of your neck before pulling back. You turn to face him, your smile even bigger than before, if that was possible.

“Thank you so much, Eddie.”

“Looks good on you,” he taps the pick that now rests on your chest. “My girl.”

You reach up and pull him down by the back of his neck for a kiss. A thank you, an appreciation, sticky sweet.

You pull away before either of you get carried away, “my turn.”

Eddie grabs the wrapped box you give him, much neater than his was. He thinks his favorite gift ever is you, but the sketchbook and drawing supplies you give him are perfect, too.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson blurbs #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson story #eddie x reader #eddie stranger things #stranger things eddie #stranger things #stranger things fic #eddie blurbs

[spotsandsocks]

The Last of the Tea is Gone

This started life as a title prompt from ask game sent to me by @madambeetrootn who I can not tag sadly. They liked it, I liked it so I’ve spruced it up and here it is for a bit of light fluff before 7x10 breaks our heart.

If there’s one thing that Eddie does not like it’s doing the grocery shop, regardless of his feelings though he’ll do a good job, a thorough job and that means making a list. So it’s time to look through the cupboards and check what they need.

The second cupboard door he opens generates a frustrated growl. Reaching up with clenched teeth, he shakes his head, how many times does he have to tell him? Again! This is sadly not the first time he’s found an empty box of teabags sitting on the shelf.

It’s Buck’s tea, the one that he drinks whenever he’s round. Disgusting stuff but for some reason he loves it.

Sighing the sigh of the long suffering Eddie grabs hold of the offending cardboard, why can’t that man ever put an empty box or bottle in the recycling. It’s not that hard. Eddie manages it every day. Even Chris half the time but Buck not so much.

The moment freezes as Eddie looks at his hand holding the vanished tea and a thought blazes through his mind bright and intense and overwhelming.

Buck keeps his tea here, the thought shifts and changes, no …he keeps Buck’s tea here, for him. He remembers buying the last box clearly. Buck wasn’t even with him that day, he was grocery shopping on his own, and why is Buck even with him sometimes when he does the grocery shopping anyway?

After that question others flood his mind.

Why does he buy Buck’s tea? Why does it run out so often?

What does it mean?

He knows, oh god he knows… finally he sees it.

Eddie stays frozen to the spot, staring at the small cardboard cartoon that’s caused him to have an existential crisis in his own kitchen.

Footsteps and a voice finally shake him.

“What’s wrong?” Buck sounds worried. Eddie supposes he probably does make an unusual picture right now. Staring at an empty box. He looks up and finds blue eyes and a frown close by.

“The last of the tea is gone.”

Perfectly clear from his point of view but not so much from Buck’s

“The last of the tea is gone?,” The sentence is repeated with concern and a deepening frown. “And that’s …. a bad thing? You don’t even drink my tea, why are you so upset about it?”

“It doesn’t last very long.”

Another random comment from Eddie at least as far as Buck is concerned but the words mean everything to Eddie.

Buck steps closer, a hand tentatively reaching out to support his best friend through his unexpectedly complicated feelings about tea. He speaks slowly.

“No… that’s ‘cos I drink it. That’s what you do with tea…Eddie are you ok.?”

He’s a man of action always had been so now he knows, well there’s really no option but to do something with the information. He answers his best friend, the man who’s ended up so much more important to him than he could ever have imagined on the day they met. The man he buys tea for and the man who drinks it in his home so often it barely lasts.

“Not really.” Eddie looks at Buck and wonders if he can see what’s coming. “Well maybe …I guess it depends on if you’re in love with me because I just worked out I’m in love with you.”

Buck laughs, a brief surprised bark of humor and then his grin lights up the kitchen.

“Really? That’s what finally did it? An empty box of tea?

Eddie smiles back, how could he not when he has this.

“Apparently. So… are you?”

Eddie doesn’t get an answer but he does get a kiss and that kiss tastes like Buck’s stupid tea, which is isn’t so bad after all.

Maybe he’ll get two boxes next time.

#911 abc #eddie diaz #evan buckley #buddie #buddie ficlet #911 fic #911fic #fluff #no time to tag #be back to do that later #title prompt game #buddie fic

[griefabyss69]

Inside The Fall

Written for @steddiemicrofic!

[ AO3 ]

'FOOL' wc: 1987 | rated: T | cw: Mention of weed

(This is the April Fool's version of the prompt, it includes all of the words needed)

Steve's used to stepping up in life or death situations, but otherwise he's directionless. He isn't expecting Eddie to be so good at helping him figure out the other parts of his future.

(Continues after the readmore)

"Step into my office," Eddie says with a guiding sweep of his arm.

"You mean your bedroom?" Steve asks just to be annoying.

Eddie's smile doesn't dim but his eyes narrow, all sharp and shit.

"Yes, well, sometimes you have to mix business and pleasure when you're waiting around on the sweet cash that's supposed to be coming in any day now," he says, shutting the door behind them.

Eddie's bedroom isn't really like the last one, though Steve had only seen that in the height of insanity, when it'd been newly deserted and then torn through in search of anti-Vecna music.

This one is neater, though still pretty chaotic. Steve can't help but like it, even though he has to wait for Eddie to clear off his desk before he can conduct his business.

"Come, make yourself comfortable," he says, gesturing at his unmade bed.

Steve ignores the thrill in his gut as he carefully sits down at the edge of it. He doesn't make a joke about cum, or about making himself more comfortable, or about Eddie offering up his bed. He's on his best behavior because otherwise he's going to go too far and Eddie's going to think he's still just a stupid jock who has bad jokes, despite all of the shit they went through together; old habits and all of that.

Once Eddie's cleared his desk, he moves to the other end of it, leaning against the wall but resting his ass against the stack of milk crates he uses for shelving. He nods at the chair, his smile all menacing as if Steve was one of his players and he was going to give him a hard battle.

"I'm not gonna hurt you," he says when Steve hesitates, pulling a box out of his pocket.

Steve has to laugh a little bit, and moves over to the chair, settling in with his elbows on the desk. He has to look up to meet Eddie's eyes, and that puts another thrill in him, this one is harder to ignore.

"Don't let me win," Steve says, smirking. He knows that's not how tarot cards work, but Eddie's laugh is worth it, like he gets the joke and doesn't think he’s actually stupid.

"I'd never do that," Eddie gasps, bending to spread the cards out on the desk. They're all face down, so Steve can only admire the cool design on the back, but maybe after Eddie's finished reading into his future or whatever he'll let him look through all of them.

He explains some of what he's doing, and it seems simple enough. He asks Eddie a question, Eddie gets him to shuffle the cards, then there’s some kind of sorting thing, then he pulls a few of them.

"What would you like to ask?"

He's tempted to ask something… easy. Something that doesn't matter, and doesn't show Eddie the inside of his head. But Eddie had offered this in the first place because Steve had admitted that his thoughts have been all fucked up, he's been pretty lost these days.

"What should I do with myself this summer?"

Eddie nods, considering that as he gestures to the cards.

Steve carefully shuffles them around in a big mess, as instructed. It's kind of fun, and he takes his time before sitting back, relaxing.

"Okay, that should be all mixed up," he says, stretching his legs out and crossing them at the ankles. He's determined to try to be comfortable, even with Eddie looming over him, his arms crossed over his chest.

He looks really good from here.

"Good," Eddie says, bends to corral the cards back into order, tapping it into neatness before he sets it down. "Split the deck in half for me."

Steve leans forward, meaning to find the exact center, but he ends up going with his gut and splits it closer to the bottom. For whatever reason, he's more curious about what's buried deeper.

"Thank you."

Eddie chews on his lip as he thinks, eyes going from Steve to the cards and back against a few times before he smiles.

"Draw three cards from here," he says, tapping the shorter stack. "Place them face down in a row."

Steve follows his instructions.

While he doesn't really believe that the cards are magic or whatever, he does believe in Eddie's ability to create an atmosphere. He's not even being dramatic or loud or anything, but he's bringing such an earnest seriousness to it that makes Steve decide to take it seriously too.

"Okay. If this doesn't answer your question at all, we can do another run of it, with more cards," he says, leaning his palms on the table. "Though usually unless a question involves a lot of people or a lot of moving parts, three is perfectly fine to answer it."

Steve starts to feel nervous, so he just nods and watches Eddie’s hands, thinks about how clean Eddie's new rings look, wondering when they'll start to get worn in by life like the last ones.

Eddie turns over the first card.

"The Knight of Swords," he says, his dimples coming out even as he tries to suppress a smile. "Other cards in this suit can be a warning, but this one is generally good."

Steve swallows. He knows he doesn't want bad news, but Eddie told him this all wasn't like, his destiny anyway. It's more of a guidance thing, like he can choose to take it's message or not.

Eddie flips the next one.

"The Seven of Wands."

He doesn't say anything else about it yet, just thinks for a moment before moving on, flipping the last one.

"The Fool."

Steve's eyebrows raise, because that doesn't sound good.

"Okay," Eddie says, leaning back against the wall, playing with one of his shiny rings. "What I'm getting for this is that you're restless, and that instead of all of the freaky monster adventures you've had, you really need a good adventure. Something new, maybe something a little different than you're used to, but ultimately you need to relax and just do what you want."

Steve looks at The Fool, about to walk off a cliff, and feels skeptical.

"Won't I end up like that?" he asks, pointing at it.

"Don't take the pictures so literally," Eddie says, and Steve has to sigh at him. "Your energy is high, like a magnet for good things," he elaborates, pointing at the Knight of Swords.

Next he points at the Seven of Wands.

"You're probably doubting yourself, dealing with a lot of fear and uncertainty, but good things are in store if you just do what you're scared of anyway. You need to remember that you're in charge of your life now."

Steve gets a lump in his throat. He hasn't ever felt in charge of his life.

"And our Fool here, what he says is that you need to pick something and try it out, whether it works or not. Do it thoughtfully, but you don't have to think that hard about it."

"Oh," Steve says. He hadn't expected to feel so… encouraged. Taken care of. "That's nice of him."

Eddie laughs, his voice quieter when he leans back down against the desk.

"It sounds like it'll be a good summer for you," he says.

After Eddie had cleaned up the cards and Steve had successfully kept himself from crying, they went off on the first nice adventure of Steve's summer.

Eddie had put a couple joints in with his smokes, and then they wandered off on a late afternoon walk, right into the shady forest, where it's not too dark yet.

"You know," Eddie begins as they walk side by side even though the path is kinda narrow. "I think you'd make a good Knight."

Steve thinks it's so not fair how much that makes him blush. He has to duck his head and grin at the ground just so he doesn't like, tackle Eddie and kiss him on the mouth and plummet off of the cliff of his own foolish behavior.

"Yeah? Do you think there'd a Knight for a baseball bat with nails in it?" he asks, looking back up to keep up his eyes on the area. Mostly it’s tree branches and nothing tougher than a squirrel.

Eddie laughs, nudges up against him as he moves, and because it's like, June, it's warm enough that he's just in his new Hellfire t-shirt, the sleeves rolled up. That means the skin of their arms brush together and Steve's brain lights right up.

"A nailbat is kind of like a sword," Eddie muses, the warm look in his eye doing irreparable damage to Steve's self control. "I might be more interested in what kind of Fool you are, though."

Steve blushes harder, mourning how it'd started to go back down just a moment ago. There's no way Eddie could've known what he'd been thinking of doing, but he knows and so do the blood vessels in his face.

"Uh, I'm not sure," he lies, shrugging. "I guess we'll find out."

Eddie beams, slides an arm around his shoulders as he says something that gets totally lost – Steve's brain has honed in on Eddie's body and only that, his feet starting to trip over themselves as he takes in the solid way they fit together.

"Easy," Eddie murmurs as he makes sure he doesn't face plant. "Is it too hard to walk this way?"

It's a little awkward, but there's no way Steve's letting him go.

"Nah, just had two left feet for a second," he says, turning his face to smile at Eddie and – Christ – he's right there. He has to go cross eyed to get a good look at him.

His gut pulls hard but he breathes through it. If anything, he knows how to be a gentleman and not just do whatever the hell he wants. Maybe his instinct for self protection is pretty busted by now, but at least he's not about to go around kissing random men just because he wants to.

Eddie laughs, and his eyes must be going cross eyed too, because they dip down to stare at his mouth instead, his long eyelashes showing off their thick, sweet curve.

"Girls would kill to have your eyelashes," he says, pleased when Eddie opens his eyes wide, shocked.

"What?" he laughs, glancing at the path before looking back at Steve. He's glad that one of them is looking out for tree roots, because Steve can't bring himself to care about anything but the feeling of Eddie's breath on his face.

"Your eyelashes, they're really long and nice," he says, less afraid to compliment him than he'd thought. "Most girls wear mascara to get theirs to look like yours."

"Oh." Eddie grins, turning his head to duck it all bashfully, and Jesus, Steve recognizes himself in that. "Thank you."

Steve can see the stones crumble from the cliff under his foot, knocking their way down the side until they disappear. He's about to do something really stupid – foolish – but his composure falls away under the force of every side of Eddie he sees.

"Eddie?" he asks, waiting until their eyes meet. "Will you kiss me?"

Eddie stumbles, barely catches himself from landing flat on his face, pulling Steve half down with him.

"Uh," he says, a nervous laugh chilling the air. "Why?"

Steve swallows hard, planting his ass on the ground so he's not halfway between straddling him or getting up.

"Because even though I'm scared, I should ask about what I want, right?"

"Oh, okay," Eddie’s voice is thin and strangled. "Sure."

It's a yes despite how Eddie looks scared now, so Steve leans in and crushes their mouths together, falling freely among the stones of his trepidation. Eddie kisses him back like they’re standing on solid ground.

#griefabyss69 writing #steddiemicroficapril #steddiemicroficaprilfools #steddie fanfiction #steddie fanfic

[usedtobecooler]

would looooove to see a plus size reader who is a virgin but like knows how to get herself off, she’s very familiar with her vibrator and dildo. and eddie??? sweet subby (switchy if ur nasty) eddie who is also a virgin and while he is a perv he’s also a blushing FOOL when it comes to pretty girls. and he’s absolutely gobsmacked by how comfortable the reader is talking about sex. they start talking about their experiences and he’s thrown for a loop when she says she’s a virgin. like ?????? he needs her to ride his face right now cause she’s perfect and he neeeeeds her. something about a sort of confident plus size woman bossing eddie around does it for me. maybe it’s because i am a sort of confident plus size woman but that’s neither here nor there tbh!!!!! lol anyway pointless rant over

a/n | respectfully anon i think you wrote this prompt with me literally in mind because you've described me as a person (y'know, apart from the virgin part) and the perfect soft eddie that i've had engrained in my brain. i hope that i've done it justice and this is everything you imagined!

warnings | sexual content (18+ minors dni), use of sex toys, face sitting, hair pulling, virginity taking (eddie taking readers virginity), unprotected sex (wrap it, guys!), oral (f receiving), dirty talking, sub!eddie, perv!eddie, reader is a bully but in a soft way, plus size!reader.

word count | 2.3k

If you were to ask Eddie how this happened, he'd feign innocence and pretend like it was all a simple, innocent mistake, how he ended up in this situation. He couldn't find it in himself to be nauseated with his actions when his face was buried in your pussy like this.

"What do you mean you're a virgin?" Eddie had asked, shocked and a clear look of bewilderment in his eyes when you had confessed to him your big secret. Virgins in their twenties were few and far between and he couldn't believe that you were one of them.

In his eyes you were the most gorgeous woman he'd ever set eyes on, plump in all the places he liked (which was everywhere, really, he loved how perfectly your soft body fit in his hands), the perfect mixture of cute and hard faced, the way you gave the guys a run for their money at everything because you were just so naturally good at anything you tried a hand at.

"Eddie, c'mon, look at me. Guys aren't lining up around the block to date me, I'm not your typical girl next door, like Nancy Wheeler." You were all matter of fact in your words as you shrugged, it was no big deal, men sucked and were notoriously bad at female anatomy anyway. So, why would you look for sex from men when you were happy with what you could do to yourself and had your box of treasures to look to?

"I know a few guys who like you, sweetheart, you just don't give them a chance." Eddie's heart raced as he spoke to you, because yeah, he does know of a few guys who like you. He sees the way men ogle you up and down when you're turned the other way, he hears them whistle when you walk by. You're oblivious, but he isn't.

"I have Mr. Bunny and a massage wand. Why would I need a man when I have them?" You'd quipped, tilting your head in question. You had made it no secret you were into your own sexual desires and chose to delve into them yourself, you were probably the only sex positive chick Eddie had ever met. Not a priss like most, comfortable enough to know what you liked and chase it.

"I'm not gonna ask what those are." Eddie said, pretending like he had no clue but his palms had began sweating and his cock had kicked up a little at the thought of you using toys to touch yourself with. The conversation had wrapped abruptly after that and you had all but forgotten it once you got home.

So, yeah, screw him for getting a little curious and stopping by when he knew your parents weren't home, claiming he'd left his chain (which never came off, by the way) the last time he'd visited, bouldering up the stairs and coming face to face with you laid out on your bed, surrounded by soft pillows and going to town on yourself with said 'massage wand'.

You were covered over with an oversized Sabbath shirt, though your fingers were rubbing circles around your clothed left nipple with your free hand, chunky thighs spread so he could see everything as your wand buzzed along your clit, causing you to choke out small whimpers and sighs. Your eyes were screwed shut, mouth hung open slightly as the pleasure coursed through you.

He'd stood there quietly for longer than he'd ever admit to, but Eddie couldn't tear his eyes off of you. The way you were out in the open like this, dripping wet cunt on display for anybody to see if they walked in.

"God, oh my God." Your mouth had opened in a broken whine, moans choked as you came, body shuddering through it and a damp patch forming below you on your grey comforter from your release. You'd stayed like that with shut eyes for a moment after, eventually switching the vibrator off and suddenly the silence was deafening.

Eddie was almost backing his way out of the door when you opened your eyes, bugging out slightly for a second but then you'd relaxed not even a moment later, body going soft as you snuggled back down into your pillows, "Enjoy the show then, handsome?" You asked, smirking at Eddie who was standing there like a deer caught in headlights.

"I, uh, I'm really sorry," Eddie's cheeks were flushing a deep shade of red, embarrassment taking over him as he stood there with a clear erection in his tight jeans. You made no move to shut your legs properly, only shuffling a little to let the muscles rest, your glistening pussy still clearly in his frame of sight. It had done nothing to help his problem.

"Are you just gonna stand there and look stupid or do you want some help with that?" You'd motioned towards his cock with your head, never losing the smirk on your face as you'd done it.

Only somehow once Eddie had eventually moved his feet it ended up like this, you hovering over the top of him as he lay flat on his back in the plush pillows on your bed, his face buried so deep in your sweet pussy he could hardly breathe, though he wouldn't be mad if that was the way he was gonna go.

His hands squeeze your thighs tightly, and you have to admit he's so good at this, licking and sucking on your clit like his life depends on it whilst you fist at his hair, wide hips fucking back and forth on his face in tandem with his tongue.

"You're such a little perv," You gasp, shuddering as his tongue breaches your hole and fucks up into you gently, you take the opportunity to get your fingers on your clit and rub it in little circles, "comin' in here to catch a glimpse of me fucking myself. Dirty boy."

Eddie whines into your cunt, gripping your thighs impossibly tighter and you don't miss the feeling of his body lifting off the bed slightly, clearly looking for some sort of relief. He's looking at you with his big, wet eyes, clearly watching to see if you're genuinely enjoying it and not just putting on the noises.

But you'd never felt like this before, every sound leaving your lips was genuine, and suddenly your fingers were being nudged away by his nose, your sensitive clit being assaulted by Eddie's sinful tongue again, this time fast and with purpose, in desperation of helping you chase your orgasm.

Your fingers wrap even tighter in his hair now, mouth falling open into loud and desperate whines, your impending orgasm building in your tummy so rapidly you have no time to think about it before your thighs are squeezing Eddie's head impossibly tight, legs shaking and hips fucking into his face with a cry of his name, "Oh my God, Eddie!"

Once he's sure you're done, Eddie finally comes up for a proper breath of air, though he immediately goes to attacking your thighs, nipping and sucking them hard enough to leave blooming purple bruises, staking his claim to you. All you can do is watch in admiration because you were sure men like this didn't exist outside of movies.

"Was that good for you?" He asks, voice all quiet and timid as he looks up at you through his thick lashes, glossy brown eyes swimming with something, like he's looking for validation that he did a good job.

"It was incredible, Eds," Your voice is all fucked out, "you did so good, can't believe how good it was."

Eddie keens at your praise, cheeks flushing dark and a stupid big grin spreading over his face, "Good, I'm glad your first sexual encounter was a decent experience."

You furrow your brows at him, moving to shuffle off of Eddie and settle next to him on the bed, "Who said it was over yet?" You ask, all orgasm dumb, "I asked you if you needed help and you ended up servicing me, isn't it meant to go that we help each other out?"

"Not necessarily, sweetheart," Eddie chuckles, making to sit up but then your hand comes out to push him back down, black stiletto shaped nails digging into his chest a little, "woah, babe, you don't have to do anything for me."

Your hand ghosts down his chest, stopping at the obvious tent in his jeans and you don't miss the way he hisses, sucking in a sharp breath even from that little movement, "But I want to. Don't you want to fuck me?"

If Eddie hadn't of known you he'd of thought your words were slightly insecure and child-like, but he knows you well enough to know you're putting on a whiney voice because you want him to fuck you without a second thought, like he would any other chick who asked, and not his best friend who hadn't even been touched by a man before.

"Sweetheart, that's a big step and I don't want you to feel like you're having to do this." Eddie rests his hand on top of yours, trying to gently push it away from his cock but you don't let him, batting it out of the way.

"Who else would I trust enough to give it to?" You ask, cocking your head to the side, "I trust you, silly. That's why I want this."

Eddie sucks in a breath, cock clearly kicking up a little in his pants and you gasp when you feel it, palm and fingers squeezing him slightly until he's shuddering.

It all happens in a bit of a blur, but suddenly you're under Eddie as he hovers over you in between your spread legs, your deft fingers unbuckling his belt and popping the button on his jeans. He helps you slide them down his thighs and then he kicks them off, leaving him bare from the waist down the same as you.

Your eyes bug out a little bit at the sight of his cock springing up, unapologetic and big. He's girthy and a lot longer than your rampant rabbit toy, and suddenly you're gulping, nervousness settling in even though you feel your cunt clench around nothing as you look.

Eddie catches this, catching your chin in between his thumb and forefinger, "Hey, we don't have to do this. Just say the word."

"Just fuck me, idiot." You sigh, caught off guard a little when Eddie grabs hold of his cock by the base and lets the tip glide in between your folds, catching and dragging on your clit so nicely that you're gasping.

The initial breach of his cock is a surprise, not necessarily uncomfortable but not good either. You suck in a breath and Eddie looks at you with worried, glassy eyes until you nod to tell him to keep going. He bottoms out eventually, filling up your cunt in a way that has you gasping for air and clenching your tight walls around him.

You don't miss how he hisses, the gorgeous moan that escapes his mouth, face softening a little. He's absolutely beautiful like this, all wanton and soft, submissive looking.

"Y'gonna move or are you worried you'll bust a nut too quick?" You quip, though it doesn't come out as mean as you planned because your voice is all breathy and stuttered from how full you feel.

Eddie chuckles a little, grabbing onto your thick thighs to use for purchase as he pulls back just a few inches, rocking into you slowly, "Is this okay?" He asks through a moan, and you can't believe how stupidly kind he's being.

"Yeah, s'good. You can speed up." You say honestly, enjoying the slight burn that you feel as he shifts. It's not terrible, you think, probably due to already coming twice before even getting this far.

"M'gonna come ridiculously fast," Eddie admits, before he pulls back properly and slides back into you, causing you both to moan in tandem. One of his hands slides under your shirt, roaming your soft tummy whilst the other grips your thigh as he starts a good rhythm.

Soon, you're a whining, moaning mess, "Fuck, Eddie," you cry, squeezing your eyes shut tight, "this feels so good, God."

"I know," Eddie's closer to you now, foreheads basically bumping as he fucks into you, his pace speeding up as he chases his high, "your pussy feels like fuckin' heaven around me."

You clench around his cock at his words, a broken cry escaping you, "Yeah?" You ask, hands reaching up to tangle in his hair tightly and you open your eyes to look into his, "Come, then. Come in me."

Eddie's mouth opens in a quiet moan, as he shoves forward a bit rougher, hips stunted a little as he comes, a feral grunt escaping him as he shoves into you to the hilt, your tight cunt milking him so deliciously he feels like he's died and gone to heaven.

You don't dwell on the fact you didn't come too, so busy looking at Eddie as he collapses onto the swell of your tits that you don't care. You knew it probably wouldn't happen, anyway. That'd happen eventually though, you were sure.

Your hands sooth at Eddie's scalp as you feel his cock soften in you, "Thank you for making my first time so good, handsome." You whisper, heart fluttering as he keens into your touch, "Couldn't of asked for anybody better."

"You're more than welcome, sweetheart." Eddie's voice sounds sleepy, muffled against your breasts, "You just say the word and we can do it again."

You giggle a little at that, "That sounds good. Maybe I can get on top next time."

You ignore the way his spent cock perks up a little at your words, giggling again as you begin to drift off.

#eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female!reader #my fanfic #smut #mine #x reader #stranger things fic #stranger things imagine #fem!reader #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn smut #joseph quinn x you #joseph quinn fic

[midmourn]

sometimes love isn’t enough

Originally posted by nctdream

title sometimes love isn’t enough

pairing lee donghyuck/gender neutral reader

summary there’s rumors about a cure.

warnings angst, supernatural theme

word count 688

author’s note reposting from my old blog. happy halloween, everyone!! stay safe <3

“If you had the choice, do you think you’d ever do it?” You asked one day, the two of you laying on your bed, your head on his chest with his fingers running through your hair.

“Do what?” Donghyuck asked, shifting so the two of you were eye to eye. You rested your hand on his chest, right above his heart. It didn’t beat anymore, but it was still the only way he’d be able to die — weird, right?

“Be human again.”

He doesn’t answer for a long while before his brown eyes connect with yours and softly whispered, “Would you want me to?”

“This isn’t about what I want,” you whispered back, not really knowing why you two were whispering. “It’s about what you want.”

“I want what you want, though,” he said and sat up, prompting you to sit up with him.

“I want you to choose for yourself,” you shook your head.

Donghyuck stared at you for a few moments before saying, “I’ll do it for you, yes. If it means I get to be with you, yes..” He then smiled sadly, “But there is no cure for vampirism, and you will grow old and have a family and children and a wonderful life without me.

You opened your mouth to respond but he shook his head and leaned forward, placing a hard kiss on your mouth, silently begging you to let the topic go.

You do.

Four months later, here you are as you stare at the so called cure. Donghyuck sits across from you on the bed as you sit on your desk chair, feet pulled up to your chest.

“So this is the cure,” he says, his eyes glued to the small bottle, “Doesn’t seem like it.”

“Not everything is what it seems,” you murmur, your eyes fixated on the bottle as well before enclosing your fist around it and his eyes immediately connect with yours. You smile.

“What are we going to do with it?” He asks, sitting criss-cross now.

“I don’t know,” you respond, sighing. It is silent for a while before you say, “Do you want to take it?”

Donghyuck hesitates for a small second before saying, “Yes.”

You smile sadly.

“No you don’t,” his eyes snap to yours, almost comically widening.

“Yes I do,” Donghyuck says.

You laugh, shaking your head at him, “You don’t,” you hold up your hand to stop him from continuing, “I know you don’t. You seem to forget that I know you better than you do yourself, probably.” You open your fist and lay your palm out flat, staring at the clear liquid inside of the bottle, “You love being a vampire, you love witnessing the new eras and inventions and the super speed and the strength, you love travelling.”

You stop talking for a second before inhaling, “I see the way you stare at those old photographs in the box, I see the way your eyes are hungry for adventure and meeting new people and experiencing new things. You can’t do that if you’re a little old fragile, weak human, like me.”

“Y/N-”

“I’m not finished,” you cut him off almost sharply, “You can not do any of that if you’re like me, you do not want to have to go to school again and have to pay for things instead of just compelling them.” Your eyesight gets blurry, and you can barely see Donghyuck, “I want you with me, forever and ever. But forever is a long time, and I don’t have forever. You do. I want you happy. And I know you being with me as human won’t make you happy.”

“You make me happy,” you can’t see because of your own blurry vision, but his eyes have tears in them. One lone tear falls onto his cheek as you smile.

“I know,” your hand tightens around the cure.

“I love you,” he says.

But sometimes love isn’t enough.

“I know.”

When you blink the tears away, the only trace left of your ex-lover is the window left open and his faint whispers of love echoing in your ears.

masterlist. rules. ask.

#k-films #nct #haechan #lee donghyuck #nct dream #nct u #nct 127 #nct fake texts #nct angst #nct reactions #nct fluff #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct smut #nct new team #kpop imagines #kpop angst #kpop scenarios #kpop smut #kpop fake texts #haechan angst #haechan imagines

[silverstonesainz]

all yours

─── the one where daniel has to re-set some boundaries  frat!daniel x reader 1.3k words prompt: "you're all mine, you got that? i'm not sharing.” 

d rambles. . . once again, modified the prompt ever so slightly just so it rolls off the tongue a bit better. enjoy!!

socials are fun.

correction: they were fun. they were fun as a new member, fun when you were just required to show up and meet people. they were fun before the responsibility, before you got a taste of planning one. its not an easy feat trying to coordinate your sorority schedule with that of a fraternity. they were great guys but that’s the problem— they’re guys. 

but alas, after three reschedules, you and daniel had managed to get a game night together with both your chapters in attendance. 

board games and various cars are littered around the living room of the the phi gamma theta house, members of yours and his organizations mixing and mingling over silly little competition. you keep an eye out on your new members, sure that everyone is comfortable in the same instance that daniel is making sure that his brothers are being nothing but respectful. 

laughter echos throughout the house, followed by the dramatic smack of uno cards against the table. you hum, sighing contentedly. everything is going smoothly. 

game night lasts for about two hours before daniel is standing on a chair, middle and index finger of both his hands in his mouth as he blows an ear-piercing whistle. heads turn, games are paused. 

“it’s eight, which means that the social is officially over.” he smiles cheekily, and several of his brothers move about the house, cards and game board pieces forgotten as they disappear into the house. your newer sisters look around confused, brows furrowed as they stand from their places.

this is how all socials with fraternities go— you do what you plan, play the games, bond the wholesome way. the way standards allow you too. but when someone announces it’s official end, the standards no longer apply. the rules are no longer there and you’re free to do what you please. go home, hang out, and in tonight’s case: drink. 

oscar and several brothers in his tow return to the room as you finish explaining it to several of your new members. they carry boxes of seltzers and a couple of bottles of clear liquor. cheap stuff, just for the fun of it. your new members are nervous, apprehensive, and you smile reassuringly. 

“you don’t have to stay, you don’t have to drink, it’s all just there if you want. no pressure at all, but i do encourage you to stay and mingle a bit. if you’re uncomfortable at anytime, or need anything at all, i’ll be here.” 

they nod, slowly dispersing into the house as they do what socials are made for: they mingle. talk and get to know the new fraternity class, build connections that could very well last beyond the end of their college days. you hum, flopping onto the plush couch with a huff. a truly pops out to your left, held by a hand decorated with a rose. you tilt your head backwards, looking up at daniel with a smile. 

“hey doll,” he hums, releasing the cold can into your hand. his lips part like he want to ask you something, like he wants to ask you something, but his name is yelled from across the room. both your heads turn to see george with a smile, hand up as he waves him over. it’s daniel’s turn to sigh, nodding as he holds his palm out as if to say just a sec. 

he looks down at you, an apology about to slide off his tongue but you shake your head, “it’s okay. go. talk to you later.” daniel smiles, smiles like he feels bad. but he leans down, pecks your cheek before scurrying off to the other side of the room.

you force yourself off the couch, popping the truly open before walking to the first group you see. you immerse yourself in a bit of conversation here and there, taking your own advice to mingle and get to know the pledges. they’re young, sweet, so naive of what was to unfold in the next couple of weeks. you were none the wiser, but after being friends with the chapter for most of your time in greek life, you have a bit of a clue of what happens before initiation week. 

but you smile and nod, admire their excitement as it allows you reminisce your own. 

you jump around the room, nurse two trulys before you find yourself back on the couch. but this time, in the company of your new friends. a new game of uno starts up, face paced, cards slapping against the stack with much thought. and it was fun until yuki and liam work together to get you to pick up four cards. you scowl at them, middle finger up before you go to pull your cards. 

you finish in third, much to everyone’s surprise. liam leans over, his shoulder bumping against yours. “good save.”

“thanks,” you chuckle, peeking over at his cards. all green, but the stack blue. you click your tongue, mumbling a good luck before pulling away from him. 

you had full intentions to get up in search of older brothers, in search of daniel, but you’re sucked back in by liam, who requests your help. you hum, eyes scanning the room to find that besides those playing the game, it’s empty. so you agree, leaning back into the couch with your eyes trained on liam’s set of cards. round and round, you try your best to help him, but he finishes last, with two cards still left in his hand. 

liam grunts, tossing the cards carelessly onto the table. “that was terrible.” 

“its karma for what you did to me earlier in the game.” you tease. 

his smile is wide, turns his cheeks pink and his eyes bright. “deserved i guess.” you giggle, shaking your head. “guess i just gotta get better at my game.”

“i guess so.” “wanna teach me?”

you’re taken aback by the new member’s boldness, a faded ha falling past your lips as the rest of the room around you finds humor in the situation. except daniel, who has rejoined the group without you even realizing it. he comes with a raised brow, a soft scoff as he stares at the pledge up and down. 

“she’s not available, look for lessons somewhere else.” daniel sits on the arm of the couch, arm slung over your shoulder with his hand planted on your shoulder. a chorus of ooohs fill the room, broken apart by scattered laughter at the expense of the younger boy. he’s red in the face, apologetic with his hands up in surrender.

you turn to see danny with his lips clamped tightly, honey eyes stuck on the young boy doing his best to distract himself. you pat his thigh, a soft hey to pull him back to you. he comes back like he always does, gaze kind and lips now pouted. “stop. he didn’t know.” you whisper.

daniel blows air through his nose, eyes flicking over to liam one more time before he nods. he tips his beer into his mouth before he leans down to press your forehead. his lips are cold, wet. you scowl up at him, whine his name as you swipe away the remnants of beer off your skin. he grins, index finger tucked under your chin to tilt your frown in his direction. 

“you’re mine. all mine, ya?” he leans down, lips ghosting over yours. his eyes flicker behind you, going dark. “and i don’t share.”

his kiss is soft, gentle. but you dont see the way he stares the pledge down as he does so. a quiet way of setting boundaries, make it known to him and whoever else wasn’t aware. 

you hum, giving him one more kiss before patting his cheek affectionately. daniel looks at you, sweet smile replacing the glare that was just on his face. “okay cowboy,” you say softly, “all yours.” 

come to the house party!!

#🔖 house party #daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo blurb #daniel ricciardo one shot #frat daniel

[wiseatom]

it's the first kiss, it's flawless, it's really something. it's fearless.

ok i am feeling fearless tonight, and thea byler first kisses are The Byler First Kisses so i am politely requesting a first kiss in the rain!

this was a VILE prompt to send in that i am so emotional about fearless (taylor's version) and byler and byler first kisses. i hate you so much. i hope you love it.

“Probably shouldn’t have taken our bikes, huh?” 

Will looks over at Mike, blinking rainwater out of his eyes – they’re standing under the awning of the entrance to the only bank in town, closed for the afternoon and completely free of any other miserable, rain-drenched suckers. The bikes in question are lying on their sides on the pavement, abandoned in their haste to get under cover. And Mike is completely soaked, dark hair plastered to his forehead and shirt clinging to hm probably just as uncomfortably as Will’s is sticking to his own skin, and he’s got this sheepish, guilty grin on his face. It had been his idea to take their bikes, hadn’t it? Something about we only have a few weeks left of this weather, Will and let’s enjoy the summer sun, Will and it’s only a twenty percent chance of rain, Will, we’ll be fine. 

Famous last words. 

“Well, it was only a twenty percent chance of rain,” Will points out, doing a bad job of suppressing a smile of his own. This one, though, is less in the realm of guilty, and more in the realm of, I told you so, idiot. "How could we have known?"

Mike shoves at him, a playful brush of wet skin on wet skin, and Will laughs. “Shut up,” Mike says, but he’s still smiling. He reaches a hand up, tangling his fingers in his hair as he brushes it up and off of his forehead, and Will immediately looks away, biting his lip – he shouldn’t think Mike looks cool right now. In actuality, Mike looks like a drowned rat; in actuality, Mike is the reason that they’re stranded here, soaked from the rain; in actuality, none of that makes Will want to kiss him any less.

“How long do you think it’ll last?” Mike is asking now, somehow heard over the sound of the rain hitting the pavement and the sound of all the blood in Will’s body rushing all at once to his ears. He crosses his arms over his chest, resolutely staring at the empty office building across the street, at the trees in boxed planters swaying in the wind – anywhere but Mike, willing his heart rate to go back to normal.

“Check your phone,” Will suggests, doing a very good job of keeping his voice even and steady. “Hot tip: if there’s a little rain cloud under the number, that means it’s still going to rain.”

He doesn’t have to look to know that Mike is rolling his eyes. “Really living up to your name, o’ Will the Wise,” he says, and then presumably turns his attention to digging his phone out of the wet, gross pocket of his jeans – or at least, that’s what Will guesses he’s doing. He still won’t look at him, so he wouldn’t really know, but there’s a lapse in conversation that Will can only attribute to looking at the weather app. “It’s only going to last for another half hour,” Mike declares, affirming Will’s assumptions. 

Will lets out a scoff. “Let me see,” he says, more aggressive than he intends to be, but he doesn’t trust Mike’s assessment of the weather at the moment, thank you very much. Good thing Mike has no interest in meteorology, because Will would have way too much fun bursting that bubble. 

In a feat that has taken years of a mixture of natural talent and diligent practice, Will manages to avoid looking at Mike directly, instead just looking at the raindrop-smeared screen of his phone.  Fortunately for Will, Mike is actually right – the app does show that the rain is going to clear in thirty minutes, the forecast free of tiny thunderclouds for the rest of the evening. Unfortunately for Will, his herculean efforts of not looking at Mike are thwarted completely by standing so close to Mike that he can feel the body heat radiating off of him, and he literally jumps back, cheeks burning.

Smooth. He still won’t look at Mike, but he can tell Mike is looking at him, now. Great.

“You’re jumpy,” Mike comments, sounding amused. 

“I’m not jumpy,” Will barks back, rocking back and forth on his heels, which is almost jumping. He plants his feet to the ground instantly, standing as still as possible. 

“You are,” Mike says, taking a step closer to Will, who immediately steps away from him in – well, in a jumpy way. Damn it. “You’re like a little rabbit.” 

Will flushes something violent, his cheeks burning with it, and this is not what he had in mind when he was urging his respiratory system to act normally around Mike Wheeler, please, for once in our pathetic life. 

“I am not,” he says haughtily, still refusing to look at him. 

“You are,” Mike insists, reaching out to grab at Will by the waist. Will yelps and hops away from him, out from under the cover of the awning and nearly tripping over a nearby parking block. Mike laughs at him. “See?” he says, sliding his phone back into his pocket and taking another step towards Will, who hops backwards out of his reach, involuntarily proving Mike’s point. “Bunny rabbit behavior.” 

“Because you’re trying to grab me,” Will seethes, no real heat to it, taking several steps back as Mike steps out into the rain after him. “Go away.” 

Mike only smiles wider, lunging for Will again with his arms stretched out. His fingers brush the wet fabric of Will’s soaked t-shirt, but on account of it being wet and Will once again jumping away from him, he doesn’t quite get a hold on him. 

“Bunny behavior,” Mike repeats, a gleeful sing-song, and Will flips him off. 

“I hate you,” Will spits out, dodging another grab attempt. 

“You don’t,” Mike says. 

“I do,” Will insists, letting out another yelp as Mike comes after him again. He does more than jump away this time, trying to beat the bunny allegations, and instead turns to run towards the other side of the parking lot. 

Mike makes a noise of protest, and Will glances over his shoulder to see Mike start after him. “Come back!” he calls out, following Will’s path through the parking lot, “I’m not agile enough for this!” 

“Not my fault!” Will yells back, though he’s not having much luck, either, the oil from the asphalt of the parking lot working together with the rain to make him slip and slide all over the place. Mike is working against the same conditions, but even with Will’s head start, Mike and his stupid long legs make the distance between them a lot closer than Will would like. “Oh my God,” he screams, jumping away from yet another close call, “get away from me, you freak!” 

“You’re just mad that I caught up to you,” Mike laughs, and then immediately slips in a puddle. It would be funny, except it sends him sliding forward, and his momentum is too quick for Will to react on time – which lets Mike crash right into him, grabbing at the clinging fabric of Will’s t-shirt for dear life. 

“Yes,” Will grits out, trying to squirm out of his grip, but Mike’s hold is firm, “I’m very, very mad. Let go.” 

“Nah,” Mike says, pulling Will closer and spinning them around, their sneakers sloshing with every step. Will grips onto Mike’s biceps, fingernails digging in for some sort of purchase on his wet skin, desperately trying not to topple over backwards and take Mike with him. “I like you right here.” 

They’re close – so, so close – but Will won’t look up, fixing his gaze on Mike’s bony shoulder and the way his shirt clings to it, almost transparent. The rain beats down on them, flattening Will’s hair against his forehead and sending a cascade of water dripping into his eyes, but he doesn’t care. It beats the alternative. 

“You’re an idiot,” he accuses Mike’s shoulder, furiously blinking against the onslaught of rainwater. 

“You like me, anyway,” Mike answers easily, fondly, hopefully. “You like me so much.” 

Despite himself, this makes Will tip his head back to look up at Mike, rain be damned, because that’s not the way a friend says those words. And that’s certainly not the way a friend looks at a friend, either. 

Will blinks, and the entire day restructures itself in Will’s head: Mike, calling him at noon, insisting he find his bike, because he’d be over in twenty; Mike, almost crashing into a fire hydrant, because he’d been too busy looking at Will to pay attention to where he was going; Mike, paying for his meal at the burger joint they’d gone to for lunch, a normal occurrence; Mike, constantly tapping his foot against Will’s beneath the table, brushing Will’s ankle with his toe, something that’s never happened before. 

And then there was Mike, insisting they go grab ice cream and share it, so that they could get the most bang for their buck; and there was Mike, offering his same spoon to Will, waving off Will’s halfhearted concern about germs; and there was Mike, lying back in the grass with him, his body angled towards Will as he let Will ramble about the portfolio he’s preparing for his college admissions; and there was Mike, who offered to bike back with Will all the way to his house, even though it was in the wrong direction from Mike’s own. 

This entire day has been a date. He payed for Will’s food, and played footsie with him, and shared his ice cream, and happily listened to Will rant, and chased him in the rain, and, and – Mike took Will on a date, and Will didn’t even notice until right now. 

Maybe they’re both idiots.

“I do,” Will says now, squinting up at Mike through the rain. He lifts one of his hands from Mike’s bicep to Mike’s hair, ignoring the way that it shakes in favor of pushing Mike’s hair back off of his forehead again. He lets his fingers card through the wet strands, traveling from Mike’s hairline all the way around his scalp so that his hand is resting at the nape of Mike’s neck, its tremor slight, but still there. His voice is steady, though. Braver than he feels. “I do like you so much.”

Mike’s hold on him tightens, pulling Will forward so that their torsos are pressed up against each other, and any and all nerves get washed away with the rain. Holding tight onto that courage and running with it, he uses his grip as leverage to pull Mike’s face down to his, stands on his tiptoes, and brings Mike’s mouth to his.

The first thing Will registers is that wet, the rainwater catching between them, but as Mike’s mouth moves against his, gently pressing for something beyond the static stack of lips on top of lips, the kiss bursts with new sensation. Mike’s mouth is warm, stark but welcome against the chill of the rain, and the strawberry flavor from his ice cream from earlier makes itself known in the next brush of their lips, bringing a sweetness Will hadn’t expected. It’s soft, slick, sweet, and somehow – shy yet fearless, all at once. 

Will lowers himself back to the ground, breaking the contact but bringing Mike down with him. He holds his face close and just breathes him in, all sweet strawberry breath and the fresh muskiness of petrichor and somewhere beneath them both, that same generic bath soap Mike’s mom has been buying for him as long as Will has known him. It’s a mix of old and new and Mike, Mike, Mike, and best of all, it’s his. It’s his. 

“For the record,” Mike says, his breath fanning out across Will’s face, and through the haze, Will wonders why he was trynig to get away from Mike earlier when this is so much better, “I like you so much, too.” 

Will smiles, big and wide and bright enough to banish the storm clouds, but he doesn’t want them to leave. He’s not ready to give this moment up, not yet.

“Good,” he says, bringing his other arm up to wrap around Mike’s neck. Mike’s thumbs brush at his hips through the soaked fabric of his t-shirt, and Will shudders, the feeling soaking him to the bone in a way the rain could never hope to manage. “Kiss me about it.”

And as certain as the rain falling down all around them – Mike does, and does, and does. 

#byler #byler fic #byler fanfic #byler fanfiction #byler ficlet #wiseatom minis #andi i HATEEEE U FOR THIS I LTIKERALLY . SCREAMING AND GNAWING UR ARM OFF AND SHAKING MY HEAD LIKE UR A CHEW TOY GRAHARHGRAH #U FREAK U FREAKZOIIIIDDD I LITEALLRLLY JHAT E YOU GOD . GOD!!!!!!!!!!! #me beating will byers over the head w the bunny allegations #u cannot escape them

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

To fall, to burn

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, October warm-up round.

Prompt: Halloween

Rated: T

CW: alcohol abuse, mind control

Tags: Vampire!Eddie; Steve and Nancy are unhappily married; sexual tension

Notes: This started out as an attempt at the @steddiemicrofic for October, but it sort of spiralled, so here we are. 🙃

His name is Eddie and he's always dressed as a vampire. 

He shows up on their first Halloween at the new house, looking elegant and suave in his waistcoat, dark hair in an old-fashioned braid down his back. Steve, immediately drawn in by his wit and easy charm, asks if he lives nearby, and Eddie chuckles. 

"Used to," he says. "Now I just visit occasionally."

They spend the better part of the night out on the porch, chatting away while the trick-and-treaters trickle by. 

"Newly married?" Eddie asks at some point, red eyes trained on his ring finger. They look so real. Steve wonders what contacts he uses. 

"Yeah," he nods. "Nancy isn't here, though. She's away for business a lot, just got promoted." 

"What?" Eddie smiles, bright and dimpled and with a hint of fangs. "Leaving a pretty thing like you all alone? Shame." 

Steve laughs, and if he notices how those eyes linger on the blush that creeps up his neck, that's nobody's business, right?

*

"What's got that lovely face all sad on this beautiful night?"

"Oh, hey!" Steve tears his eyes off the costumed children passing by as Eddie joins him on the porch steps. "Didn't see you all year."

"Of course not," Eddie winks. "I'm a creature of darkness." 

His costume is more modern today, all black leather and chains, hair spilling over his shoulders in messy curls. 

Steve chuckles, twists his wedding band. Frowns. 

"Trouble in paradise?" 

Steve huffs. "No. Yeah. I dunno, maybe." 

And then - and he has no idea why - he spills his heart to this complete stranger. How maybe they both rushed into this marriage. How they seem to be wanting different things from life. How he always thought they'd have kids, lots of them, while Nancy is so focused on her career. Maybe it's the way those ruby eyes never leave him as he speaks. They draw him in, drag all the things he keeps buried deep inside to the surface, until he feels raw and vulnerable and wide open. Seen. 

"She's a fool," Eddie hums. And Steve never noticed, but he has shifted closer. So close their shoulders are brushing. So close that Steve feels his breath on his skin, so close Eddie’s scent tickles his nostrils. Leather and musk and something earthy and wild. "You should have anything you desire." 

Steve laughs it off, but it feels wrong in his throat.

*

Steve's bottle of whisky is almost empty and the trick-and-treaters long gone when he looks up to see Eddie standing before him, jewelry glinting in the dying light of the Jack O'Lanterns. Those red eyes flick over the last of the cardboard boxes still stacked on the porch and Eddie’s face twitches. 

"She gone then?" 

Steve blinks sluggishly. Nods, sways, topples. Eddie is crouched in front of him in an instant, catches him before he can fall and cradles him to his chest. 

"It's okay, sweet thing, let it out." 

Steve is about to ask what he means, but then the sticky wetness on his face registers, and he flushes with humiliation. 

"Shit," he slurs, tries to stand. "Sorry." 

Eddie brings one strong hand to the back of his head and pulls him back in. His fingers card through Steve’s hair, a solid, firm weight.

"No need to apologize for a broken heart. I'm just sorry it had to come this far." 

He smiles, fangs gleaming in the low light, and something inside Steve's chest flutters. His head is dizzy, and Eddie’s eyes are so pretty, a swirling vortex of red that's sucking him in. He wants nothing more than to fall into them and burn. 

"Steve .. " Eddie is saying, and Steve must be so, so drunk, because he could swear his lips aren’t moving, and still that voice is clear as day in his head, in his bones. In his blood. "If you were mine … I'd never let anything hurt you." 

"Would …" Steve gulps. Eddie’s eyes watch the movement of his throat, pupils blown wide, watch his tongue as it darts out to wet too-dry lips. "Would you maybe … like to go inside?" 

"Aw, honey, finally!" Eddie’s eyes crinkle around the corners, and then he hoists Steve to his feet like a ragdoll, steers them both towards the door with one firm arm around his waist. His breath tickles the hollow of Steve's neck, and his fangs scrape his rabbiting pulse. "Thought you'd never ask." 

Part 2

#steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie #steddie brainrot #steddie fanfic #fanfiction writer #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #vampire!eddie munson #steddie holiday drabbles #hype's holiday drabbles

[gosmigenergy]

KINKTOBER 2023 / Day Eight

( Francisco ‘Catfish’ Morales x F!Reader x Santiago ‘Pope’ Garcia )

SEX POLLEN/FUCK OR DIE / CHASTITY / SEXUAL COMPETITION

Summary: Coming home from work, all you want to do is collapse on the sofa with Frankie and snuggle but a mystery package makes your evening a little more interesting.

Day Eight of @absurdthirst's fabulous Kinktober prompt list!

Warnings: Mentions of food and drink, sex powder/pollen, arguing, Santiago and Frankie being dom if you squint, biting, oral - female receiving/male receiving, fingering, squirting, P in V, unprotected sex (use protection irl please), rough sex, choking, three-way, MMF, spit roasting, Santiago gets a little soft, no use of Y/N

(If I miss anything, please say and I’ll adjust)

Word Count: 4.5k

Notes: I originally planned to write a Leash and Collar story with Santiago on Day Six but never got the chance, that storyline however is alluded to here. Maybe I’ll write it someday.

You were ready to go home and collapse on the sofa after a long day at work. It was Friday night so Frankie would have order some form of take out, the fire would be on to take the edge off the chillier evenings and he probably would have stashed some snacks away from his daughter. All signs would point to a good night in, though your interest peaked when you opened the door to see Santiago also sitting at the kitchen table.

“Hey.”

“Oh, hey, Santiago.”

Francisco was hidden behind the fridge door, “Drink?”

“Please.”

You pull off your coat and step further in, your cold nose immediately being alleviated by the warm orange glow filling the room.

“Your pizza’s getting cold.”

You scramble to get your shoes off, hurrying to make your way to the kitchen table, a cardboard box still steaming. Frankie always ordered your favourite, he knew each variation of your takeaway orders from the Chinese down the block to this, the pizza place just on the edge of town.

Sitting down, you open it up and sigh as the cheese stretches apart.

He places a beer in front of you.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“How’ve you been, Santi?”

He snorts, “See, Fish, that’s how you welcome a guest.”

Frankie rolled his eyes, “Hey, I’m used to you coming and asking for a favour, hermano.”

“I’ve been fine, honey, just making sure my favourite pairing were ok.”

Actually, he was seeing if Frankie still had the hump about getting you a collar, everyone in the kink scene knows what a collar means and Santiago doesn’t necessarily own you. He’s put Francisco through too much shit to do something like it again.

You glance to Frankie, “It’s all been good.”

“You didn’t tell her how pissed you were, did you?”

“Of course, not. We’ve settled this, quit talking about it.”

You never questioned what they spoke about in their native language, it was clear they didn’t want you to know, it was also apparent that Frankie was annoyed and Santiago was fucking lapping it up, a smirk on his face.

“Now, now boys.”

You chew your food with a smile and the atmosphere calms.

They continue to ask about your day and all the usual tales about an ordinary suburban life before you can’t bring yourself to take another bite. As you tidy everything away, plating up a couple of slices for tomorrow, you catch an unopened parcel addressed to Francisco on the side.

“What’s this?”

Picking it up you see Benny’s handwriting.

“Why’s Benny sending you something?”

“I dunno, it’s Benny, he’s probably found something he thinks is funny.”

“Are you gonna open it?”

“No.”

You tilt your head, “Can I open it?”

Frankie shrugs, “Sure.”

Santiago has a glint in his eye, all he wants to do is take a jab at the fact he’s letting his girl open his mail. He chooses to keep his mouth shut because he doesn’t need Frankie throttling him this evening.

Popping the parcel on the table, you rummage for a knife to break the duck tape.

“Any ideas?”

“Nah, man, knowing Benny it’s some sort of odd sex thing. You sure you want her to open that?”

Frankie honestly couldn’t care less, Benny had sent him some shit in the past, including a fake letter with lacy underwear hanging from the seal. Benny thought he’d have a laugh however he used it as an excuse to move and never come face-to-face with that postal worker again. It was small, what harm could it do?

You press the blade along the sides first before gently cutting the box along the middle, then the next part, is a little bit of a blur.

Your soft touch meant the box didn’t quite do what it was intended to until your face was close. Whatever way Benny rigged it, the lid of the item inside exploded off like an overenthusiastic Jack in the Box, sending a smoke plume of pink.

You heard a chair scrape heftily on tiled floors, felt the pressure of hands grabbing your arms as your back met the countertop behind. Frankie spewed a variety of profanities, both in English and Spanish, as you choked and spluttered on whatever had come from that package.

“I’m going to kill him.”

You blinked, the pink still in your vision.

Frankie brought his hands to your cheeks, callous thumbs rubbing, his big brown eyes searching your face. There was a tingling sensation that spread down your face pleasantly, it wasn’t scary just unusual.

“Everything alright?”

“I - urgh,” you process your words. “What the fuck was that?”

To your surprise, Santiago was still sat down, brows knotted. Benny wouldn’t be this stupid would he?

He draws the box closer, pulling out two pieces of paper. The first reads ‘Have fun you two ;P’, and the second is a pamphlet in a pink equally matching the cloud that escaped.

“Shit.”

“What?” Frankie’s query came from deep within his throat, your pussy clenched.

“I’ve heard of this, it’s just hit the market.”

By the way he says market, you know he means a kinky one.

“Pope, I swear -“

“It’s a powdered aphrodisiac…”

Both you and Frankie look at him with confused expressions, he would never tell either of you how adorable you looked or maybe it’s because those tiny potent particles are in the air.

“And our girl just got a face full of it.”

There was a moment of silence.

“Oh,” you say quietly.

That tingling in your face had travelled, you could feel it in every limbs, running through your veins, pooling in excitement. You wrap your fingers over the edge of the countertop to steady yourself, swallowing hard.

Frankie swipes his tongue over his bottom lip.

“Oh no.”

You try to focus on your breathing, slowing down your increasing heartbeat but it’s seeming impossible, you can feel you legs turning to jelly. All you could think about was getting out of the space, containing your building ecstasy out of the vicinity of two men who, right now, were not burning with desire.

You take a couple of steps and Santiago is on his feet.

“Stop,” he comes forward.

“What, no, we’re not doing this,” Frankie blocks his path.

You try to make your escape as they start to argue.

“Are you serious, Fish? She’s got to get this out of her system.”

“There’s gotta be another option.”

“This isn’t the sort of thing that just wears off when she goes to sleep.”

You can’t remember their argumentative tones sounding this fucking good before. You were salivating at the thought of their heated bodies almost pressed up against each other, their hot breath teasing each other’s skin, muscle taut. The image wouldn’t leave your mind and you froze.

The noise that you released was both a cry of pain and pleasure.

Their voices hush before Frankie cautiously called your name.

Turning round, you pull at the edge of you skirt, your body vibrating. It was like you’d been called out at school, you couldn’t look either of them in the eye.

Santiago stood there as he does when things get serious, hands on hips, head hanging low. His eyes are dark.

“On the table.”

Frankie’s cock twitched, mouth hanging slightly agape and he looks back to you.

“Do as he says.”

He could be authoritative when he needed to be Frankie and it made your situation worse. You shuffle, the friction of your thin underwear threatening at your clit. Following their instruction, you pick yourself up onto smooth wooden top, feet dangling.

Santiago took the lead.

His touch sent electric shocks through your knees, pushing them wider. He lifts up your skirt and sees how dark your panties are, he hisses.

“You’re fucking soaked.”

Your lip quivered, “I’m scared.”

He picked up your chin, delivered you a soft smile.

“We’re going to help you, don’t worry.”

You laugh, built up nervous energy does that to you.

He waits for it to pass.

“Lay back for me.”

You continue to do as you’re told, your back meeting the table.

Santiago throws your skirt up and out of the way, fingertips grazing your thighs as he knelt at your feet. He trailed kisses up your leg, starting soft before growing heavier, his teeth nipping at your flesh before he soothed with his tongue.

Your breath was shaky.

“You’re going to be such a good girl for us, aren’t you honey?”

Frankie watches how you shiver, how your chest rises and falls as you steady yourself. The hairs on the back of his neck stand up and the sensation goes straight to his hardening cock, he can’t look away as his friend brushing the tip of his nose over your mound.

You mewl as he presses his lips against that built up bundle of nerves and groans.

“Feel free to step in whenever you like.”

Santiago glances over his shoulder, lips pouted, wet with the residue of your pleasure.

You pick up your head drunkenly, wondering why Santiago had stopped but also to look at him, eyes glossed with held back tears. The corner of your lips curl with a feeble smile, you’re worried about him.

“Just concentrate on what you’re doing.”

Frankie comes over and crashes his lips onto yours, your head falling back with the force of his action. You gasp, only allowing him to slip in his tongue and roam your mouth, yours working in tandem. He fumbles to undo your shirt buttons before his hands claw at freshly exposed skin, his thumbs following the curvature of your breasts.

Santiago hooked your underwear to one side, the tip of his tongue licking along the creases of your outer lips with careful precision.

You moan into Frankie’s mouth and he gladly accepts.

He pulls your shirt further open, catching the elasticated straps of your bra and running along the edge to free your breasts from the cups. He grabs them in handfuls, breathing in every delicious noise that escaped you.

Santiago’s cock was straining against his jeans, the air he was breathing thick with the scent of your juices. Letting go of your hip, he carries on licking you whilst his free hand pulled at his belt, popping open the button and unzipping with a satisfied sigh. He was throbbing, his balls feeling heavier than usual, he was going to take you on this fucking table if it was the last thing he did on earth.

Frankie finally let you come up for air but it didn’t mean he stopped.

His kisses ran down your neck and along your décolletage, his patchy whiskers scratching. You ran your fingers through his brown curls, nails digging into the scalp, raising his face up. His Adam’s apple bobbed as the saliva built against his cheeks, the colour of his eyes no longer visible.

And Santiago?

Santiago didn’t like not having some attention.

“Fuck!”

You cry as he presses his tongue flat against your cunt and licks in one lengthily swoop, your legs clamping around his head.

“Santi.”

Your shoulders fall back as he takes another lick.

If looks could kill, Santiago knows he’d be dead, the glare Frankie delivered him was enough to do that but it only made him smirk behind you. He chose to ignore the other man, taking two fingers and slipping them into your folds.

You moan, back arching as the spark ignited.

Frankie’s brows furrowed, expression stern but Santiago had only brought you closer.

Returning to your neck, he locked himself tightly into the crook, sucking hard.

“Shit.”

He was going to leave a mark.

His teeth grazed your chest, he moved down the middle before his slopping nose nudged your one breast. He pursed his lips before taking your nipple in his mouth and biting gently.

You hissed through gritted teeth, your hand reaching for the back of his head once again.

You were fit to burst.

Santiago was ruthless, pumping in and out of your weeping cunt at an alarming pace whilst Frankie was playing and nuzzling at your breast like a wild animal. You couldn’t see yourself but you know their brown eyes were dark, hungry to soak up every piece of pleasure you had to offer.

You weren’t going to last much longer.

The fever had entered every fibre of your being, ran hot through your veins and vibrated every muscle, your stomach coiling. Your skin was tingling, the pink film over your eyes lifting, bursting into white spots. Your walls were fluttering around Santiago’s digits and he knew exactly what he had to do then.

He straightened up, the tip of his cock notching the edge of the table as he continued to stroke you. He watched in delight as you dug your nails further into Frankie’s scalp, your neck taut as you gasped for air.

His fingertips curled, pressing into that soft sweet spot, thumb closing on your clit.

You screamed, snapping your legs closed yet you still didn’t give him what he wanted and that only coaxes him more.

He draws circles with his thumb as you visibly shake.

“Santi, please,” you whine.

You want him to stop, the sensation overwhelming, the blood rushing to your ears. Your hips rise to try and alleviate the pressure but he’s having none of it.

“You know what I want.”

His voice was low, gravely.

You sob. You were rarely a brat however you knew if you let yourself go, the flood gates would open and with the powder in your system, you had no idea of the outcome. But all three of you knew it had to happen eventually.

“Honey,” Santiago grazed his fingertips over your stomach, “Cum for me.”

He spread his hand and pushed you flat to the table, digging his fingers deep into that spongy spot and you unravelled. Your juices gushed, coating his hand as he removed it to rub over your clit and help you ride out your orgasm.

This is the first time Frankie has seen you squirt.

He finds himself unable to concentrate as he separates from your chest and watches your arousal soaks the kitchen floor.

“Fuuuck, querida.”

The comedown sent shocks through your body, toes and fingers curling.

“I’m sorry,” you say as you gasp for air.

“You don’t need to apologise.”

He kissed your lips gently and that’s all it took for the powder to take effect yet again. You deepen the kiss, placing both hands on his patchy jawline to keep him there.

Santiago unzips his top before desperately pulling it over his head and throwing it to the floor. The sweat already clung to his chest, pre cum already leaking from his cock as he shred his trousers too. Tucking his hands underneath your hips, he hauled you closer to him in one motion, ripping you from Frankie.

He balanced your lower half on the edge of the table.

“Wouldn’t you prefer the bedroom?”

“I need you here…”

He shook his head, focusing on playing with your clit against the radiating tip of his cock. It sent a shiver down your spine, a ragged breath falling from his lips as he stroked your folds. Your hands gripped the wood for dear life, you were in trouble.

“Now.”

And he pushed himself deep in one vigorous snap of the hips.

Santiago groaned, his chest rumbling against you as he brought your body to his.

“Still so tight,” he slurred to Frankie.

“Even after that? You’re losing your touch.”

You have time to catch your breath, walls pulsating around him.

“Eh, I’ll make sure you eat your words later.”

“We all know you’ll be the one with a dick in your mouth.”

Santiago squinted at Frankie to gage whether he was lying through his teeth except the man kept a straight face. Santiago had seen Frankie’s cock in the showers during their years in the military, he knew he’d be a decent size when he was hard, he’d gladly take him.

Ok, now this conversation was taking too long. You groan, “Please, hurry up and fuck me.”

The boys share a laugh.

Neither of them were used to you being like this. Sure, you always wanted sex when it came to it but this was desperate and needy and that mouth of yours, Santiago couldn’t get over it. You were normally so pliant and good for him that he may have to ensure he puts your mouth to good use later.

He swats your ass, sending a shockwave that bucks your hips.

“Been as you asked so politely.”

His grip on your hips tightened, fingernails digging into hot flesh and the thought of your trouble got worse, you were in real fucking trouble now.

Santiago had always fitted in you, his length perfect, his girth enough to stretch you but pleasurable and with the powder, you were riding high. He wasn’t like his usual, meticulous self, he had lost as much sense as you.

It was fast and rough, his cock gliding through your slick.

Everything within you burned, the sounds filling the room, the grunts of Santiago and the moans of you a musical unison.

Frankie couldn’t believe what he was hearing or seeing, every detail crystal clear like he was watching a film against a cinema screen. How every thrust of Santiago’s hips sent a ripple through you muscles, boobs bouncing, your knuckles turning white as you held on, your expression scrunched as he pushed you closer to your next release.

Then there was his cock, hard and constricted against his jeans, he had to get involved before he blew his load.

He scrambled to get his clothes off, the heat now radiating from him.

He was never a selfish lover so he found it surprising that how Santiago dominated you was a bit of a turn on. Maybe that’s why you agreed to their offer when the four of you met that evening, each one of them were different and you liked every single one of them for just that reason.

Though the blood was pumping quickly through his veins, Frankie approached the table cautiously.

Santiago caught him out of the corner of his eye and slowed, he needed to because he knew he was close.

Frankie took your chin, soothed you as he brushed his palm across your face, a thumb rubbing your cheek bone. Your expression relaxed, head falling to the side so you could drunkenly look at him and he smiled.

“Think you can handle me too?”

His thumb crept to you mouth and Santiago stopped, drawing circles on your thighs, cock steady inside you. He waited to see if you’d answer, he knew when you got overwhelmed or had a face full of aphrodisiac powder, your brain would get foggy.

“Yeah.”

It’s quiet, only enough for Frankie to hear, he leans down and delivers the lightest of kisses. You chase for him yet he pulled back, wrapping his other hand around his cock and bringing it to your lips. Much like how Santiago’s looked, the tip was flaming bright, the veins that ran his length bulging at the work of the powder.

Your tongue flicks over your bottom lip before you lick the precum off his tip, he hisses at the touch. Flitting your eyes to his face to check he’s ok, you carry on, taking the end into your mouth and circling the ridge where his skin had pulled back.

The shiver travels through him, a strangled moan that has Santiago’s cock twitching.

“Did you teach her that?”

Frankie laughed cracking under the pressure of two sets of eyes on him.

“No, she does that all by herself.”

“Fuck, how is she so good?”

“I wish I knew.”

Santiago really did because if that was just natural, he was jealous.

You circled Frankie’s tip once more before loosening your jaw and took his length in your mouth, the edge of your nose tickling at his matching brown curls at the base.

Santiago watched you pull back and match the rhythm with his hips.

As you guided yourself back down, Santiago pushed himself back in, your moan travelling along Frankie’s cock. He wrapped his hand the back of your head, fisting your hair as he helped you take what you could, your walls flutter.

“You two are gonna be the death of me.”

You and Santiago shared a look, Frankie unaware as his eyes were screwed shut.

He picked up the speed as you did you best to keep up, humming as your lips tightened around Frankie who steady you more. Santiago took both your ankles and placed them over his shoulder, practically folding you in half as he brought his weight down on you. He couldn’t keep it up much longer and if he was going, he was taking you both with him.

His next thrust hits deep.

The notion knocked the wind out of you, Frankie’s cock falling out of your mouth as you came for air.

Santiago din’t care, the way your cunt reacted to him was so intoxicated and he wanted that over and over until he filled you. Frankie couldn’t blame him either, he needed you to take him more so he could cum down that throat of yours.

They both knew you had it in you but right now, the room almost spinning as the fiery sensation entered every bone.

Frankie guided his cock back to your mouth, pushing gently at the back of your head.

Santiago was relentless, his balls shrinking as they seemed to overfill. His legs were cramping, his knees protesting yet he couldn’t stop. His grunts were now animalistic in nature, the chase for his release timeless.

You couldn’t tell how long the three of you were in that position, could only tell when they were both close and beginning to falter.

Frankie’s fingertips came to your stomach with a featherlight touch and you open your eyes to see his, irises so blown they were black. He pawed at your breast, squeezing a puffy nipple between his thumb and forefinger, your cunt holding closer to Santiago’s cock.

“We’re not gonna last much longer,” Frankie says.

You hum a response before he brings you down his cock and presses you into his belly, your throat constricts and he slides you back. He relaxes his hand on your breast and draws his hand up you décolletage, resting it at the bottom of your neck.

This is his tell.

He pumps you up and down his cock, noting the stutter in Santiago’s hips.

“Ready?”

Frankie puts his hand around your neck and applies light pressure before forcing your head down to the base of his cock. Every part of your body becomes tense, your walls trapping Santiago’s cock deep within you.

“Shit,” he chokes.

He comes thick and fast, his chin falling to his chest as he holds your hips up, his seed spilling messily out of you folds.

You whimper, your legs shaking as your orgasm washes over you.

Frankie felt your back beginning to lift from the table and he knows he’s got a fleeting moment to notch himself a little further. He squeezes your neck more, brings you closer and you feel him at  the back of your throat. That immediate muscle spasm causes his cock to twitch and you suck as he groans.

The salty tang fills your mouth, Frankie’s grip loosening against the back of your head.

You slide back, milking his cock as much as you can before you removed him from your lips with an accompanying pop, a string of your saliva trailing.

He snapped to his senses and cupped your face in his hands, “I’m sorry, querida, are you ok?”

You look up at him with swollen lips and glossy doe eyes, fluttering your lashes, dumbfounded.

Santiago stroked your ankles then pulled himself out of you, the cum pooling onto the table. You body shudders from the lose and he presses a smile to your skin before lowering your legs to the table.

“I’ll get you some water.”

He knew you were cock drunk.

“Querida?”

Frankie brushed his nose to yours, teased the hair that clung to your forehead.

It was like you were under water, their voices were muffled and the scenery was swirling, light brighter from the refraction.

“I’m ok,” you mouth was drying out.

He kissed you softly, laying you back against the cooling wood.

“There’s some bottles out in the garage.”

Once you all made it to the bedroom, you were there for the night so Frankie saw it best to stock up. He took the full glass from Santiago, who continued to saunter around the house nude, his soft cock already beginning to harden.

“Are you serious, what is up with you?” Frankie gestured.

“Fuck you.”

He knew the other man would let him too.

Returning to you, Frankie helped ease you from the table, getting you to sit up straight. You took the water from him and chugged it down, he immediately got you another one.

Santiago came back into your view.

“Can we go somewhere a little more comfy?”

“Of course, honey,” he kissed your temple.

Your cunt clenched around nothing. Though you were loving the attention Frankie and Santiago were paying you, you prayed it would end soon just for your pussy's sake.

“D’you want me to carry you?”

Frankie’s fingertips grazed your hip, gently coaxing you to come with him. Your eyes flit down to his cock, his desire apparent, and he looks away sheepishly. A smile drew across your face as you entwined your fingers into his.

“If you don’t mind.”

Sure, the night wasn’t the quiet night in you expected but thank god Frankie and Santiago were there to alleviate you.

—

“Can’t sleep?”

Santiago sat in the glow of the television, volume low.

You shake your head.

He smiled, “Apparently you might be the only person who’s ever had a face full of Aphrodite’s Powder.”

“Is that what they’re calling it?”

He hummed in response.

You hadn’t moved from the nook in the hallway, your focus on playing with the sleeve of Frankie’s flannel shirt you wore, legs fidgety.

“What’s wrong, honey?”

“Frankie’s out cold and I’m… still itchy.”

Santiago put his phone down and beckoned for you to go over. You scuttle, legs aching and settle into his lap. He coils an arm around your frame, pressing a shoulder to his, your head resting against his temple. With his other hand, he drops two fingers to your clit and draws careful circles.

“I don’t have the energy to fuck you.”

“I know,” you kiss his salt and pepper hairline, “this will do just fine.”

Everything about the evening became a blur, they pushed you through one orgasm then another then another before you’re sure you blacked out. You wake up to the stillness of the house, the calm of the morning sun breaking through the kitchen window. The television had switched off on it’s own accord and Santiago was sleeping softly, his hand resting between your thighs.

Yes, this will do just fine, you thought, nestling back under his jaw.

#kinktober 2023 #triple frontier #triple frontier x reader #frankie catfish morales #santiago garcia #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #santiago garcia x reader #santiago garcia x you #kinktober

[sjmvillainweek]

SJM Villain Week Rules/FAQ

Welcome to SJM Villain Week taking place on the 1st - 7th of October to kick off the scariest month of the year.

In order to inspire creativity within the fandom, we are running a prompt submission form to collect your ideas for what the prompts should be for the event! Each day will have two prompts, as well as a free day on the seventh.

The prompt submission form is now CLOSED, the prompts list will be up soon!

Click the read more to see the rules and FAQ for this event week!

To help this event run smoothly, here are the rules to follow-

This event is about the big bad guys of the SJM universe, but that does not mean that hate will be accepted. Remember to be kind and respectful to everyone joining in on this event. Any kind of hate mail sent will be deleted and the user will be blocked, no questions asked.

Projection of harmful stereotypes will not be welcome. Any kind of portrayal of the villains is welcome, as long as everything is kept respectful, and it is clear that certain kinds of behavior are not justified.

All relationships and interpretations of sexualities are welcome! So long as your villain of choice is at the forefront of your content. No shipbashing is welcome. You are also of course welcome to create general and non-ship content!

No A.I content is permitted and therefore will not be reblogged.

NSFW and mature content is allowed, so long as everything is appropriately tagged. That means on Tumblr, their guidelines for NSFW images are followed, and on AO3, or other posting platforms, the work is sufficiently tagged and rated according to that sites rules.

As we are dealing with the villains of the story, it needs to be clear, graphic depictions of SA will not be reblogged.

Whilst we all have different headcanons, and interpretations of characters, these are some characters that are not villains, and content centering around them will not be reblogged or otherwise featured during this event-

Tamlin

Eris Vanserra

Rhysand

The Inner Circle

Bone Carver, Weaver, Bryaxis

Cormac

FAQ-

How do I participate in this event?

Any kinds of participation are welcome! Whether that be headcanons, fanart, fanfiction, moodboards, playlists, edits, or anything else you come up with! Remember, any A.I content will not be reblogged.

Who is running this event?

This week-long event is being hosted by @hieragalbatorixdottir, @achaotichuman and @readychilledwine

What if I have a question about the event?

If you have any questions, please feel free to send an ask to the event account! We would love to hear all of your questions, headcanons, or any content you wish to share with us! If you want your ask to be answered privately please state that in the ask, otherwise all asks sent in will be published.

And please remember to not send any asks regarding the event account to our moderators. Please send them through the ask box of this account.

Do I have to stick to the prompts?

The prompts are there to help inspire creativity, that being said you do not have to stick to them. There will be two prompts for each day, you can use both, just one, or none at all! Whatever inspires you to create work! There will also be a free day where you can go utterly nuts and write whatever you want featuring our villains!

What can I do for SJM Villain Week if I am not a creator?

Any kind of interaction with the creators' making content is the best way to support them and encourage them leading up and during the event week! Consider liking, commenting and reblogging the content you see! This is the best way to let the creators know their content is appreciated.

Up to and during the event, we will be reblogging and sharing content made for our villains. If you have seen or have created works for our villains don't hesitate to share with us so we can reblog it!

Without further ado, welcome to SJM Villain Week, where lies, secrets and evil abounds. We’ll see you in October.

#sjmvillainweek #sjmvillainweek2024 #acotar #crescent city #tog #throne of glass #a court of thorns and roses #hosab #hofas #cc hofas #cc hosab #acomaf #acowar #acosf #the assassin's blade #crown of midnight #heir of fire #queen of shadows #empire of storms #tower of dawn #kingdom of ash

[piratefalls]

it's been a week and it's only tuesday. my brain is so tired i almost uploaded a snapshot of my dog's vet records. here's the greatest hits of everything i've read in the last week. (mind the tags on a few!)

masterlist

might blow up in your pretty face by crybabie

“I see you liked my gift,” Alex’s voice was light, but lower than Henry had ever heard it. His belly swooped at the sound. And then the words caught up with him. “Gift?” He felt the color drain from his face and frantically reopened Snapchat to confirm his worst fucking nightmare: his most recent outgoing messages had been sent to Alex, and all of them had been opened already. “Playing dumb doesn’t suit you,” Alex told him, still teasing, but he sounded muffled through the ringing in Henry’s ears. “I gotta say, I wasn’t expecting you to even acknowledge them, let alone send pictures. They look good on you.” - or, the next box was indeed full of thongs :)

When I Met You (I Could Not Speak) by @sparklepocalypse

Following the latest string of disastrous first dates with beautiful women to whom he’s decidedly unattracted, and with yet another circular argument with Philip about duty still ringing in his ears, Henry’s summarily fled to the countryside. Here at least, he reasons, there’s no pressure to woo the locals. (A modern fairy tale AU.)

A thousand dreams that would awake me by @kiwiana-writes

“It’s not about punishment.” Alex just nods; Henry had been very clear on the form that he wasn’t looking to be dominated or put in his place, so that won’t be new information. “And it’s not the pain as such.” He runs his fingers along the edge of the mug. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I like to feel it, but I’m not looking for pain for the sake of pain. It’s more about… control, I think.” There’s a long silence. “Taking it?” Alex prompts finally. “Or giving it up?” “Does it sound ridiculous if I say both?” Or, Henry visits a sex club to get spanked the way he's craving.

Foreign Bodies by clottedcreamfudge

“We both know it's not a doctor you need,” Henry says, sharp and beautiful, hands hovering just in front of him like he wants to touch Alex, but knows exactly how it would be received; like he knows Alex would burst into fucking flames at the first brush of his fingertips. Three hours ago, Alex had been quite happy to live without being burned. Now, he thinks he'd pay for the privilege.

Well It Ain't Missionary by everwitch

Alex Claremont-Diaz, a ballet dancer, is asked to list his ‘favorite positions.’ His hilariously suggestive answer goes viral, as does the unexpectedly flustered reaction to it by the Internet’s very own FoxySexEd. So obviously, Alex has to slide into Henry’s DMs. How could he resist? When a man that attractive wants your dick, only a fool would pass. Henry is surprising. He wants to be pushed around, thrown for a loop, and he wants Alex to do it for him. But whenever Alex tries to soften his landing, Henry clams up like he’s been burned. Alex can work around that, obviously. He's a dancer. If you're gonna toe the line just right, pointe shoes are a must. Or: Alex and Henry fuck. Not in missionary.

all my time is yours to spend by smc_27

Any way you look at it, Bea is not meant to be here, and if it were just the lights, he’d assume she forgot to turn them off. The fire burning is another thing entirely. The weather has been dreadful, and perhaps her flight was canceled. Surely, she’d have told him as much. He should investigate.

i told myself don't get attached (but in my mind i play it back) by coffeecatsme

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Claremont-Diaz,” the woman behind the counter says, eyes wide and apologetic. Alex grits his teeth so he doesn’t say something inappropriate in a lobby full of scared families, crying kids, and the obscenely tall British guy that’s currently giving him a fucking migraine. “Due to the snowstorm warning, all the flights are cancelled, and unfortunately the room you’ve booked is currently occupied.” “Occupied,” Alex repeats dumbly, nails digging into his palm. “I booked this room three months ago.” “Yes, well, the previous occupant—” “Should’ve been out of here by now.” Alex knows he sounds harsh, he knows the stupid blond is hovering somewhere behind him listening to the whole conversation, but he can’t help it. He’s not spending what’s supposed to be his vacation alone with another guy in his room. Or, Alex and Henry are stuck in the same room in a hotel during a sudden blizzard

how do you want me? by rizcriz

“Christ,” Henry curses quietly, lowering the camera. “You’re beautiful.” Kneeling on the bed, his ankles crossed behind him, a hand tucked into his briefs, the other carefully weaved through his hair, is Bea’s friend Alex. The light sits on his skin, a delicate shadow of eyelashes fan over his cheeks, and when Henry speaks, he opens his eyes and looks at him from beneath those eyelashes, a careful smirk slipping over his lips. He doesn’t move from the pose, though, as he says, “You’re not so bad yourself, sweetheart.” - Or Henry’s in over his head.

The Next Draft by graceofgrayskull

“This is so unfair,” Alex says, still eyeing Henry. “What?” June asks. “That Henry Fox is talented, successful, and also mind-numbingly good-looking?” says Nora. Alex nods. “Exactly. Like my perfect nemesis. He’s coming for my brand.” -- Alex has read Henry Fox's debut approximately three times in the past three months. The novel, featuring a wary protagonist coming to terms with his sexuality, is garnering Fox critical acclaim. And maybe Alex is a little jealous — his own novel generated a surprising amount of success last year after going viral online, but it just wasn't cut out for the type of buzz Fox was receiving. So Alex jumps at the chance to meet Henry at a book signing, despite knowing very little about the man himself. What starts as a bad first impression quickly leads to fast friendship, many Instagram DMs, and a whole lot of mutual pining.

Shoot Your Shot by RoseHarperMaxwell

Jimmy raises his eyebrows in anticipation. “First celebrity crush?” As usual, Alex’s mouth is moving before his mind can catch up. “Oh,” he gestures, like this is both obvious and the easiest question he’s ever been asked. “Prince Henry.”

No Laughing Matter by inexplicablymine

Ellen is leaning over him, her blonde hair pulled back in a perfectly coiffed updo. He had never managed to understand why exactly she was always dressed so impeccably in her scrubs as a dentist. But she seemed almost presidential, even with the eyeglasses that had magnifying glasses sticking out of them making her look a little like some kind of bug. She only needs a quick look before she is snapping her gloves against her wrists pulling away. “Wisdom teeth come in and then they come out,” she says, and then as an afterthought tack on, “just like you.” Or, who said a meet cute couldn't happen while getting your Wisdom Teeth out?

Love and Hate at the Farmers' Market by @myheartalivewrites

Alex and Henry both work at a farmers' market and they hate each other, until suddenly— oops! They don't!

i'll bet it all on me and you, i'll bet it all you're bulletproof by anincompletelist

“Let’s do this,” he says. “Let’s,” Alex agrees, pushing down on the handle until the door swings open. “After you, boyfriend.” This is most definitely not his finest idea. Henry usually practices much better self preservation skills. Much better common sense skills. He steps over the threshold of Alex’s room and it feels like sealing his fate. They’re doing this for Alex to win over their bosses in a lighthearted game with a harmless lie, but Henry can’t fight off the bitter knowledge that, regardless of how tonight goes, Alex will be fine, but Henry has so much to lose.

in an emergency by metacrisis

Alex gets in his own head about a meme Henry liked and decides to take matters, quite literally, into his own hands. OR, Alex gets a sex toy and other nonsense.

(Valen)Tie Me Up by happinessofthepursuit

“Well, I actually made your gift at one of Pez’s workshops, though I’m sure they would’ve gotten it out of me anyway,” Henry says, voice fond. Alex’s mind is whirring, going through the monthly calendars from Seize the Play. Pez leads classes multiple times a week, but there’s only a few that Henry could’ve attended, and one in particular that would explain his own gift… “Which one?” Alex asks. “I think that’ll immediately be clear.” Or, Alex and Henry exchange gifts for their first Valentine’s together—then proceed to use them.

More Amour by surveycorpsjean

Alex discovers something in Henry's closet that changes everything.

Confidential Memorandum by sherryvalli

"Hello, Mr. Fox-Mountchristen's office. How may I help you?" "Hello, can I speak to Mr. Fox-Mount-krishen, please?" Alex blinked. After two weeks of hearing nothing but the voices of snooty men and frazzled secretaries calling in, the person on the other line now sounded decidedly neither snooty nor male nor in any way adult. It was a little girl. "Mr. Fox-Mountchristen's unfortunately in a meeting right now,” Alex began slowly, “but I could take a message?" "Oh." The girl paused. "You're not Mr. Hunter." Alex starts a new job as Henry's new assistant. Henry's daughter keeps calling the office and leaving him messages.

in bloom by stutteringpeach

Yoo, can u hook me up with some flowers?? It's the busiest day of the year for florists. Alex texts Henry with a last minute request.

don't want you like a best friend by @priincebutt

The thing about marrying your best friend who you also happen to have a very secret crush on, is that you don’t take into account how much it will hurt. When they’re around his family and Alex holds his hand so easily, like it’s second nature, it makes Henry’s heart skip a beat, but when they return back to his apartment the distance is deafening. Alex purposefully sits at the opposite end of the couch, and Alex sleeps in the guest bedroom, and Alex calls him ‘man’ like two bros who definitely aren’t in love with each other. So he pines, and he’s heartbroken already, because he knows how much this is going to shatter him when it’s over. Because Alex is integrating into his life like it’s nothing, like it’s easy and this could be their new normal, and that kind of thinking is fucking dangerous. Or, Alex and Henry get married, conveniently.

everyone adores you (at least i do) by matherine

Rain is coming down in sheets against the stained glass windows of the brownstone when the door swings open, ushering in the howl of the wind and the man Henry loves more than anything in the world. “Why didn’t you use your colonizer blood money to buy a place closer to the train station?” Alex calls from the doorway. Henry hears the familiar rhythm of the lock tumblers turning and Alex’s copy of the key to the brownstone clinking against Henry’s signet ring and the key to the Austin house on his chest, only vaguely muffled by the rain. “It’s miserable out there.” Or: Alex comes into the brownstone in the midst of a rainstorm, and Henry realizes he never wants him to leave.

know how to cover up a scene by HypnosTheory

“That’s how Alvie kisses Harry,” Alex says, squeezing Henry’s wrist. Henry’s eyes dart down to the slight red mark on Alex’s cheek. He hit Alex the last time they were together. Henry didn’t get to watch the bruise form then with Alex between his legs. “That’s why Harry wanders, but he always comes back.” Henry draws in a shaky breath. “Alvie’s a lucky man.” Alex’s eyes drop to Henry’s neck, where the diamond of his pendant hangs amid the forming marks Alex left behind. “Sure is." __ Henry Fox, needing an extraction, must rely on his part-time rival, full-time problem Alex Claremont-Diaz. To get that extraction, Henry needs to pose as Alex's date for a high-stakes dinner. They get in character - and stay that way behind closed doors.

as always, let me know if you want to be tagged, and i'll see you next week!

tagging: @starkfridays @stilesgivesmefeels @midnightsfp @sarahjswift

#RWRB rec list #rwrb #RWRB fic #red white and royal blue #firstprince #firstprince fic #RWRB fanfiction #alexhenry #alex claremont diaz #henry fox mountchristen windsor