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#when i look at it i remember my struggle. it took a long time to get it looking good
korlkorl · 2 days
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YAY! i greatly enjoyed your shoujo au!!! it was amazing to read, ty for your contribution to humanity u r doing god's work frfr!!! would you be willing to write a hanahaki au for the twst second years? (preferably an angsty ending, but if you would prefer something happier, that's 100% fine with me!! i'm not picky!!) 🤭♥️
hanahaki + second years
hanahaki: a fictional disease caused by unrequited love in which you vomit blood and flower petals (flowers tend to relate to the person you) and although there is an option for treatment, you become numb to emotions. if you don’t get treatment, you die.
(I decided to add how the twst seconds years would treat the disease— will they get treatment or not?)
not very good angst warning under the cut!!!
riddle rosehearts
riddle grew up alone, mostly. every time he seeked for comfort, for company, it’ll fall apart. it would always go wrong, he’d lose everything the moment he got too greedy.
riddle still struggled to properly face trey and chen’ya after all those years, even if he got better with it. it was too embarrassing, too lame. he felt like a loser. a sore loser who deserved nothing. oh sevens, did the world have something against him?
things were looking on the bright side. he was out of his mother’s furious grip, he has more freedom than he ever did (even if he goes by strict rules) he could make as many friends as he liked and hang out with them as much as he liked.
he still preferred being private, however. he liked his friends, you included. they were more understanding of him than any other member of the school. although he’d twist and turn in bed when he thinks back to his overblot (how embarrassing of me! he thinks) he would still much prefer being with those who accepted him a long time ago.
you weren’t too big on sweets. you liked them, sure, but the more you ate the more your mouth felt itchy. knowing riddle’s sweet tooth, sometimes, you’d secretly pass your unfinished slice of cake or unfinished strawberry tart to him. riddle rosehearts, the strict, germaphobic, lowkey a dictator, heartily took it.
if it were anyone else, he’d just stare at them in disbelief. but the thought that you bit into the very sweet treat, it threw him over the moon. he’d read of indirect kisses before, in cheesy romances he read in his spare time. he doesn’t know if this is actually an indirect kiss, but don’t make fun of him, he’s still learning!
riddle has a lot of firsts, like the first time he tried that strawberry tart, or the first time he learned that playing with friends is fun, or the first time he ever overblotted, or the first time he fell in love.
you were his first love.
he turns red when alone, imagining your face and your laughter and your joy. your silly mishaps that he has no heart on lecturing you over, or your inability to understand some of the assignments. he finds all aspects of you cute— wonderful? he doesn’t know how to describe what he’d feeling, but it gets him all giddy.
he’s frustrated often, the way he started blushing violently when you ever get in close contact with him and how you always, always seem to be unaware of this. oblivion would send you to hell.
he’s been feeling quite nauseous lately, probably because of his failed attempts of clumsily sending you signals about how he feels.
it was to a point where he threw up… petals? petals…??????? oh my god, he’s throwing up petals!!!
riddle distinctively remembers reading about this during his first year, a disease of romance, love, and failure.
his heart sinks. maybe that’s why you failed to notice.
things never go his way, riddle thinks. he’s always feeling alone. every time he gets greedy for comfort, he loses it at the highest point of his life. when things are getting better, it takes turns for the worse. that’s why riddle likes to follow the rules.
by his third year, riddle’s back to being his strict, controlling prefect. except something’s different, he’s not as angry anymore.
that’s to be expected, though. ever since the surgery, riddle has never been the same.
ruggie bucchi
he has grown up to treasure everything he has.
ruggie isn’t as financially stable as others, he wasn’t lucky to be fortunate enough to get what he wants, whenever he wants.
so when he does get what he wants, ruggie makes sure to keep it close to his heart like it means everything. most of the time, it does mean everything, all of it. his life.
he hardly gives away his things (please don’t mention the kids at the slums, he’ll turn awfully shy.) and takes anything he’s given.
when you would give him the tiniest amount of food, he’d gladly snatch it from your hands and walk away snickering.
easy target for food is what you are, he thinks.
most of the time, when people give things away to him, ruggie just assumes that it’s unwanted. he’d take leftovers no problem. it’s only when you’d constantly hand things to him, always have something to give him and remember he exists, does he think you’re odd. I mean, he’s fine with taking the forgotten leftovers, but what could he possibly do when you don’t forget him?
watch ruggie clumsily fiddle around with his fingers, scanning the area for your presence. he has learned to not worry, as you always manage to come find him everyday without fail. he feels noticed.
he starts to crave for that attention.
ruggie treasures things. he keeps them close in his heart very carefully. but what would he do when you steal his heart instead? where can he hide all the things that mean everything to him?
somehow, he doesn’t mind. he wants you to see him more, ruggie bucchi, his true self.
the crave he has for you is for some odd reason, unmet. you’re oblivious to his shy antics, the way his ears turn flat when you walk away or the way he holds onto the hem of your shirt just for a second longer.
notice him.
notice him.
notice him.
when you see the way he unconsciously covers his mouth whenever you meet eyes with him, or the how he’s constantly going to the infirmary, will you finally notice him?
there’s a trail of your favourite flowers.
ruggie bucchi keeps all the special things close to his heart. when you take his heart away, how else can he express his pathetic, unrequited love? by coughing up a disease ruggie would’ve called embarrassing and shameful if it weren’t for you.
azul ashengrotto
azul is sensitive. he notices things way too easily. the tiny, insignificant details of someone and how they react, he will notice. that is how azul finds out how a person truly feels about him.
even if azul and that other person were considered close friends, azul would still notice the tiny little details that make him unlikable to them even just a little. it’s been a habit for as long as he could remember.
everyone always had something they disliked about azul. it was fine with him, that was normal. everyone dislikes everyone about anything. it’s not like it deters long lasting relationships. azul shrugs it off, it doesn’t bother him. it’s comforting, even, knowing what people think about him.
so it was obvious to say it was near-horrid when no matter how much time azul spent time with you, he could not spot anything off about you, anything that said you didn’t like him.
as much as azul notices how people act around him, he also notices other people. he knows all their flaws, their good sides and their bad sides. even if he couldn’t read your thoughts about him at all, he still expected to see something out of the norm about you, a bad trait, something that made you human.
to him, you had none.
were you god? how come you were near-perfect in his eyes? during cold months, the tips of your nose and ears would flush pink like a cute plum while azul turned embarrassingly red. he thought it was ugly and didn’t make him look good, but there nothing to prove that you thought the same. he couldn’t tell anything about you at all.
you were like a confusing puzzle piece to him. unsolvable, unreadable, flawless. perfect.
it took a while to adjust, but his unwavering respect for you turned into wavering thumps of his heart and dodging eyes. maybe you weren’t perfect after all, maybe azul just likes you.
the terrible urge to impress you grew stronger everyday.
he wanted to look as perfect as you did to him.
but how can he possibly ever look perfect,
when he is sick?
hovered over the toilet, azul clutched his chest as petals slid out of his mouth as if it were apart of him. well, it is apart of him, I guess. his love for you is one with him after all.
azul is sensitive, but he tries not to show it. not only is he good at catching the little things, he’s quick to anger or get hurt. the best he can do is hide them. so he hides the feeble emotion he calls love and comes back after winter break just as the same. he’s dutiful and runs his business like he normally would, and still hangs out with you time to time. he just feels more… empty? you’ll never know why he seems to be this way, no one really knows about the surgery.
jade leech
jade is often avoided by many people.
people find him creepy, odd, off-putting, unnerving… and more comments he hasn’t bothered to find out about.
those names don’t really bother him. in fact, he enjoys it. he loves watching people squirm in fear over something he says out of the blue. It’s exciting to watch a person try to decide if they should run away or not, unaware of jade’s capabilities.
he’s used to people avoiding him. for the sacrifice of entertainment, he isn’t all that popular. jade leech is used to it.
you were different, however.
your simply didn’t find him creepy. anything he said that was weird, you’d laugh it off and say something weird back too. jade’s height, creepy smile or the way he talks, it doesn’t seem to throw you off at all. you’d smile and wave at him when no one else dared to, you’d easily graze your skin against his and pay no mind, you’d approach him without second thoughts. It was like mutual trust, something jade has learned is difficult to find when you’re him.
so you meant everything. you were just as new and exciting, a pleasant surprise from the predicted fear everyone else has. you made him feel… seen for the first time in his life.
soon, everything you did was like a horror movie (weird analogy, I know. but it’s jade leech we’re talking about!) the intensity of when the killer would approach, or when the character is alone and vulnerable, his heart pumps like wildfire as he watches expectantly to see what the new surprise would be. his favourite feeling was when the victim would die or escape, the tightening in his chest releasing as he excitedly watches what would happen next. that was you. you were his favourite feeling.
he loves the way your eyebrows moved in expression when you talked, he loved when you sneezed and looked around expecting a “bless you,” he loved the odd ways you attempted to hold your mug comfortably and most of all, he loved you. he love you very, very much.
jade leech is used to all kinds of things. he’s used to people avoiding him, he’s used to his brother’s tendencies to groan and complain at everything, he’s used to azul’s creepy capitalist tactics.
what he’s not used to, however, are the bubbly, excited emotions he feels when he gets to experiment with his beloved mushrooms, the way you took over his thoughts like the plague and most of all, he wasn’t used to the flowers spilling out of his mouth.
this was odd, per say. jade knew of the hanahaki disease. he knew of all the downsides of it. but he never worried, because, how could he, jade fucking leech, ever love someone so pathetically?
he hoped that you’d love him back too. he oh-so deeply wished he was just as new and exciting to you as you were to him.
the blood meticulously dripped amongst his fingers, flower petals sticking to it alike. he laughed at himself. he’s always imagined that if he’d ever possibly get this disease, it’ll be flowers related to the water like lotuses or water lilies. he never thought he’d start coughing up such pathetic land-dweller flowers.
it was fine, though. jade would get used to it, eventually.
because after all, he’d rather die than stop loving you.
floyd leech
floyd is scary, he knows that. He’s quick to anger, moody, tall and intimidating. He’s doesn’t really care, though. He just does what he wants. He doesn’t think it’s that big of a deal.
he likes fun surprises, something new, exciting. he thinks you meet that of that.
you’re not as scared as others, you respond to his pranks and squeezes positively, you respect his mood swings and he even caught a few glimpses of you defending him. he thinks you’re so cute!
it’s not odd to talk about the leech twins without mentioning you. floyd follows you every and jade just goes wherever floyd goes. it’s like a little trio.
you don’t get scared like others when he gets upset, return his squeezes (hesitatingly…he hugs tight!) and find him rather silly than scary.
jade thinks you were almost made for floyd, considering how well you two get along. although jade has been with floyd the longest, he can only tolerate to a certain point for you, however, it seemed to go endless. you were so much more patient with floyd then with anyone else. although floyd made be subtle about it, he’s grateful.
floyd adored you. you were everything he loves, for he loves you.
loved you.
loved? (love)
floyd started to ignore you. you’d tilt your head in confusion— you were upset. why would your best friend suddenly act like you weren’t even there? he wouldn’t even get mad, he’d just turn the other way.
it was only so long ago when floyd was hunched over in his bed from a terrible stomach ache. jade was horribly surprised to see bloody petals staining floyd’s bedsheets.
floyd never bothered with these things. for the first time in a while, he read a book out of his own volition to figure out what it was, only to rip the pages apart when he read what hanahaki was.
childishly declaring that he loves you no more, floyd would stay away from you like the plague, whilst secretly filling his system with flowers that will kill him for ever loving someone so deeply.
floyd is gonna disappear from your life completely eventually. you’d wonder what caused your best friend to suddenly hate you, while his family mourns over the loss of a loved one, as floyd refused treatment, because he foolishly decided to love you.
kalim al-asim
kalim grew up very sheltered in a loving family. The only concept of love he has is of his parents, who hold hands tightly and gush over the cutest things. they often warn him of the danger of love, and that he must be careful about the person he wants to spend the rest of his life with.
kalim, although clumsy and stupid, always kept that in the back of his mind.
you were like a breath of fresh morning air. growing up knowing very little, you were the newest, most brightest experience there was. kalim was sure you were the one. he was completely sure, why else would his heart thump so fast?
he’d hug you and hold your hand, give you gifts you could never even imagine having and tell you how much he appreciates you.
kalim hasn’t gone around to mouthing the word “love” yet, but he knows that you know anyway.
so when he started coughing up petals, jamil was quick to inform the al-asim family. kalim was confused, he didn’t understand. this love wasn’t unrequited, there was no way!
it doesn’t matter, though. he’s gonna continue loving you, you and him are gonna be happy together someday, eventually. maybe not in this universe.
kalim woke up in a hospital bed, his heart heavy.
he loves you. but he forgot what that feels like. he loved you. somehow.
jamil viper
jamil is smart. he’s smart and knows his worth. this is why he hates being in second, he knows he deserves so much more.
why does he always to have do worse than kalim? why does he always have to be second place? jamil is smart enough to know his potential. he also knows how much he’s holding himself back for the sake of hierarchy. he hates it.
it’s not a surprise when jamil finds himself unconsciously doing slower than certain people to appear normal. his main purpose in life is to not stand out, hide in the shadows, survive. like predator hiding from prey because if found, it will be caught by the silly humans.
you’re completely different from him, though. you’re as normal as a person can be, yet you aim to reach for the stars and hold it close to your heart. jamil understands your desire to outshine people all to well. he’s been in that spot, is in that spot. he pities you.
so he sticks around. he’d casually follow you, hang out whenever he can, help you with assignments so you can be the best version of yourself. he’s voraciously living through you. if you achieve your goals, that’s enough for him. at least he was apart of something meaningful for once.
it catches him off guard, however, when you encourage him to reach for his goals as well. it’s like you’re holding his hand and pull him amongst the galaxies to gently place your hands onto the hot touch of a star.
he knows that’s near impossible to reach, from the moment he was born, his life was chosen for him. but he thinks he could reach the small goals.
jamil secretly pats himself on the back for grazing against your skin for a second longer than usual, treat you to a nice meal or help you ace a test. he hopes that at least one of the goals he could reach in this lifetime is to be with you.
jamil is smart enough to know that he’s not just sick. not when blood trails down his chin to his arms, as flowers spill from inside him.
he thought that maybe, just maybe, he could have something for himself for once. not hold himself back, grasp tightly to what he wants the most.
jamil is smart enough to know his own worth. he’s definitely not worth enough to you.
silver
silver likes the little things. he enjoys the way birds chirp in the early morning, or the way the dandelion petals flow against the wind as he watches you scrunch your nose and blow on it. and then both of you guys start sneezing. ah, summer pollen, a reminiscent part of nature.
he loves the way you hold your pencil, the way you like to tie your shoelaces, how you cut your sandwiches. these small, unnoticeable traits catch his eye quite often, and he’s developed a fondness for them.
he’s a man of little words. silver doesn’t talk much, so when he thinks of these things, he never says it out loud. maybe that’s why it took you so long to notice how he felt about you.
he was so calming, and so gentle, it tugged at your heart when he’d smile softly and tilt his head ever so slightly so the cute birds could carefully place a beautiful flower crown on his head. he’s so princely, you think. a perfect knight in shining armour, loved even by the nature.
often you’d tell him how lucky any girl would be to be loved by him. your comments made silver hopeful.
silver is a man of little words, he likes to spend his days watching rather than showing. when he does finally speak his true thoughts, he genuine, honest. his words roll off his tongue so easily and smoothly, perfect fit for such a princely man (as you call him)
so when silver does finally open his mouth to speak, talk, say of what he felt in that very moment, he throat closed up. maybe he was nervous, maybe he was lame, because to both of your guy’s horror, blood spilled.
he didn’t really know what was happening. only when he felt the urge to throw up in the infirmary did he realize what was going on.
he was familiar with hanahaki. his father always told him stories of how fae would love so strongly to humans who hated them, that those who were unlucky would be induced to vomiting flowers.
when silver thought he was fae, just like his sweet old father, silver swore to himself that he’ll never love a human. now that he knows that he is, in fact, human, silver starts to doubt himself. maybe is, in a way, a fae.
it’s alright, though. silver is man of few words. he likes to watch rather than show. he doesn’t mind what could happen to him, he won’t tell anyone. he’ll just watch you from afar, filling his heart with melancholy love until he reaches his end. which might be soon, for he loves you so strongly.
a.n: my phone is on 6% as I type this I will edit this tomorrow morning when I wake up. sorry for replying so late I had tests coming up and I had to study!!! </3 thank you so much for the kind comments and I’ll catch up to requests soon! feel free leave any requests :3
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chrissfawn · 2 days
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ꨄ MAKE IT UP . 𓂃 ㅤ۫ ㅤ⊹
— c.s. series | part 1 . .
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pairing :: chris sturniolo x fem!oc
summary :: in which isabella decantis has to share a dorm room with her high school enemy, chris sturniolo.
word count :: 1,390 k
warnings :: swearing, angst (??), lowercase intentioned, 3rd person, chris is a dick, drinking, throwing up, fluff if u squint, n thats it
a/n :: yall r crazy for getting tense to 800 notes 😭😭 i love u guys all dearly. also the story line is js smth i ended up doing on c.ai and i thought it was realy good so 😁 also credits to maxine for the name she said she wouldnt read this if i didnt give her credits
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COLD was what amber-eyed isabella decantis felt while walking down the long hallway. after waiting for weeks and even months, she had finally gotten accepted into her dream college. the brunette girl looked down at the small folded paper to know which dorm was hers. to her surprise, the hallway was empty on move in day. she knew how hard had been working and how much money she paid to get one of the dorms that have a private bathroom. she knew she deserved this.
‘ROOM 617’ was said on the small sign on the door. isabella put her boxes down after struggling to carry them for almost 10 minutes. she excitedly took out the key to unlock the door, but it was already open. bella raised her eyebrow slightly, a bit shocked that her dorm mate would already be here. she opened the door slowly while letting out a soft, “hello?”
her amber eyes met with blue eyes. “uhm.. what the fuck are you doing here?” chris mumbled, getting up from his bed. isabella’s jaw clenched as she looked back down at the folded paper. “this is room 617?” she spoke with anxiety laced into her tone. “are ya’ blind?” the brunette boy spoke coldly. “no because if i was, i wouldn’t already know that im gonna have to be with you.” she spat as she kicked her boxes filled with clothes and other things into the room.
bella picked up the few boxes and placed them on top of her bed. the room now completely silent, she took a box knife that she had in her purse and started to open the boxes up. “cant fucking believe im gonna have to be stuck with you for the entire year.” chris mumbled under his breath, thinking that isabella couldn’t hear him when in reality she did. “well we both wouldn’t be pissed off if you didn’t bully me through all of high school, wouldn’t we sturniolo?” isabella snapped.
“well thats what you deserve for being all slutty n shit when you fucked every guy in school decantis.” he argued back, not even looking up from his phone. bella paused from packing to turn to chris. her hands rested on her love handles. “excuse you! your the one who played every girl in bell borne! remember lizzy? yeah, you fucked around with her for a bit and then you cheated on her with her sister.” she retorted with frustration laced into her words. “but ohhh, no remember that one time when you cheated on her sister with her bestfriend?” bella continued, pissed off that chris was probably not even listening.
“oh please bella! you sent nudes to basically all of the guys during junior and senior year. dont act all innocent and act like you didn’t do anything.” chris finally snapped as he put his phone down. “jesus christ and you fucked how many guys in the bathroom?” he didn’t stop there. “don’t be coming after me sayin shit like im a player when you were a slut too.” he finally stopped. isabella rolled her eyes, turning her back to chris. “oh so now what? when i finally say the truth you stay quiet? is that what hurts you to know bella?” he taunted.
“that’s because its all a shitty humor chris! i didn’t fuck anybody in any bathroom, i didn’t send nu— well i sent nudes to my boyfriend.. i didnt send nudes to any other guy but him!” she defended herself while throwing her hands up with mercy. “for fucks sake chris you’re just like your ex girlfriend. she was such a fucking dick. you know you were nicer in eighth grade but when you started to date her during the summer you became a prick. guessing you also played her then?” bella added, tilting her head to the side slightly while crossing her arms. after a few seconds of awkwardness, isabella knew chris was finally silenced, atleast for now.
bella turned back to her things and continued to unpack everything. she carefully placed things on top of the shelfs next to her bed. her dainty crystals, her box of tarot cards, her little jewelry box, everything that she had loved. but it wasn’t too soon until the silence started to kill her. she then remembered that he had brought her vinyl player along with two or three records. the brunette girl carefully opened the book that held them, then taking them out. happily, isabella plugged in the vinyl player and putting on a mac demarco record on to play. chris groaned quietly as the music started to fill the room. “jesus what is this shit?” he asked while getting up from his bed to turn off the music.
“its music…” bella mumbled, quickly turning it back on. “well yeah it sounds depressing, who listens to that kinda stuff.” chris argued as he turned it back off. the girl pouted slightly. “people who listen to mac demarco?? if its bothering you so much then get out while i finish unpacking.” she shrugged. chris didn’t give her an audible reply, instead just simply putting his shoes on and leaving the room. isabella let out a small sigh of relief, thankful she had the room to herself now for a while.
. . . .
isabella was now in her nicely made bed comfortably. her wired earbuds connected to her phone which played music softly into her pierced ears. she hummed to herself quietly once she noticed the time. 1:03am. the brunette girl couldn’t actually help but feel a little bit worried about where he was. but of course, she quickly brushed it off and enjoyed how cozy she was currently. soon enough, a loud thud hit the door. isabella’s eyebrow raised slightly while lazily getting out of bed.
the brunette walked over to the door, taking out one earbud while opening it. her eyes met chris’ eyes. his hair stook out everywhere and some of it stuck to his forehead, his hand holding a bottle of something, his eyelids droopy, and his scent reeking of alcohol and his cheap cologne. “jesus what did you do?” bella asked while moving to the side to let chris in. “mmmhh” he rather giggled. he belly-flopped onto his bed and wiggled around on it for a while, bella assuming he was trying to get comfortable. “are you.. drunk?” she asked, crossing her arms. “don’t be ridicu-lush.. ‘m not that drunk.” he slurred while continuing to giggle like a baby.
isabella hesitated, but she grabbed the bottle that was in his grasp. “jesus! vodka chris?” she groaned in annoyance. he let out a small hiccup in reply that kinda made her laugh. isabella just watched him wriggle around in his bed before his body shot up. “what now?” she mumbled. “im gonna throw up.” chris groaned as he quickly ran to the bathroom that was connected to the dorm. the brunette girl ran after the boy as he kneeled down in-front of the toilet to throw up. isabella who had emetophobia, was also not doing well. her fingers lightly held chris’ front pieces of hair back with one hand patting his back gently, trying not to look at the throw up.
“there ya go..” she whispered quietly. after he was done doing his thing, isabella grabbed a plastic cup and filled it up with tap water. “here, drink some water.” the brunette said, then flushing the toilet. chris gladly took the cup of water and took little sips. “feel better?” she asked as she leaned against the sink counter, looking down at chris on the floor. “hm, i think ‘m still drunk.” he admitted, putting the cup down. isabella hummed quietly, nodding her head as she stuck out a hand to help chris up. “get some sleep.” she suggested while walking chris back into the room. “m’kay..” he babbled while quickly flopping back on his bed.
the amber-eyed girl turned off the bathroom lights then walked over to her bed. she had also decided to go to sleep. isabella turned off her lamp and put her phone to charge. her body slid underneath her sheets and blankets. she heard chris snore like a truck, “great.” she thought. honestly though, she didn’t mind it that much. after staring at the ceiling for a few minutes, she quickly fell asleep.
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a/n ;; STARTING MY FIRST SERIES 🙀🙀🙀 this might be a bit messy for the first part but i do hope u guys enjoyed it!!
taglist :: @espressomads @mattsluttywaist @sturniol0s @luverboychris
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mars-ipan · 2 years
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hey unwarranted art tip:
study your own art, the way you would someone else’s. look at what you like about it. look at what you don’t like about it.
look at your sketches. look at your lines. look at your colors. all parts of your process. maybe you wanna try x new thing next time? imagine how that would look.
not only does it let you know what you want to do more practice with, it also gives you inspo for your next pieces, and improves your self esteem because you Have To give yourself a compliment :)
#like:#i’ve been real happy with my posework lately#and i’ve gotten a lot better at drawing fabric and wrinkles!#it makes things look a lot more dynamic and i can stretch things more which is fun#i also like how my hands are improving at a good pace#but i should also work on things like simplifying hair less and understanding muscle definition#maybe do a few foot/leg studies too#sidenote i’m doing a good job avoiding same face syndrome! my designs for characters all look very different :)#i should learn more nose shapes so i can add even more variety#^ shit like this. all real thoughts abt my art btw. this is so good for you#it’s basically like a critique but you give it to yourself#HERE’S THE THING THOUGH: you gotta be objective. no putting yourself down#treat it like someone else’s. be nice#like for example. i’m currently looking at a hand i spent a very long time figuring out#when i look at it i remember my struggle. it took a long time to get it looking good#but DAMN it looks so good now!!!! those shapes and the foreshortening!!! lovely :)#it’s easy to pick out the flaws in your art. look for good things too. if you’re quick to think of flaws try to find just as many positives#it’s important to know what you like so you can keep doing it#and also remember your progress. if 13yo me saw the sketch i’m staring at rn she’d lost her shit like ‘omg WE DID THIS ????’#anyways. i loveee looking at my art i gain so much from it#even if i don’t like the end product i gotta look at my art i musr
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smutstationchoochoo · 9 months
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Desperate
COD Men x FemReader
Hear me out: a sex pollen fic where reader isn’t affected but he is and he is gone.
Word count: ~3.6k
A/N: It’s just the poorly written sex pollen drabble of my dreams, it’s fuck or die lads. Insert your favorite COD man here. Please forgive me for any spelling/grammar mistakes and my complete lack of knowledge regarding military things, all I know is that these men are hot and I love them.
Warnings: sex pollen, unprotected PIV (wrap it up), overstimulation, dubious consent (consent is sexy folks)
Banner credit: @cafekitsune
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You all had been briefed at 0200. The flight to Berlin left at 0300 where the team would be infiltrating a terrorist hideout, a suspected manufacturing site for a new chemical agent. You were told that as long as you didn’t ingest it, you would be fine.
The fact that it had been made airborne was not in the fucking briefing.
The team had been split into pairs, you and he took the North side of the suspected warehouse. The size of it should have tipped you all off. Everything was running smoothly until 3 combatants had come from the door at the end of the corridor. He called for cover and ran ahead. You dropped two before he even got a stride in. The other he disarmed in seconds and then with a deafening crack, both men slammed through a door and into the resulting room. A brief struggle then silence. You heard him start to call the ok, his voice in the comm sounding clearer than earlier, then a noise, a pop, and the sound of air. You froze, watching a gas spill from the open door and dissipate immediately. Just when you started moving again, a growling, “Don’t,” tore through the comm. Then, the sound of ripping Velcro and something hard (his helmet you realized with a sickening drop) hitting the concrete floor echoed out to you. Soft murmurs that grew into angry outbursts of fuck fuck fuck transformed into one that became a groan of what sounded like complete and utter pain. You didn’t even have to think, the severity of the situation settled in. “It’s a gas,” you barked into the comms, “Northside hit, need medevac in 30, going dark.” You waited for confirmation, seconds after getting it and receiving news that the warehouse was almost cleared, you went to find him.
You knew what it did, you all did. Jokes had been made, smirks shared, but you all knew how bad it was. You weren’t even close to prepared. He was sitting against the far wall or rather pressed into it using it to keep his now shaking frame upright, gear strewn around the room, combatant on your immediate left with a mask (his mask, the masks you all were wearing just in fucking case) gripped in a dead hand, an empty canister mockingly sitting in the middle of the room. 
You gripped the combatant by his legs and dragged him to the hall, before slamming the door shut upon reentry and grabbing a near chair to jam the door. You immediately began stripping yourself of your outer tactical gear until you both matched in only your boots, pants, and base shirts and then you turned your attention to him. Now kneeling by his side you took him in, looking for any other injuries noting nothing serious. That almost made you laugh with relief until you saw the front of his pants and him frantically palming the growing outline. You swallowed and quickly looked at his face shocked back to the reality of the current situation. The usually stoic, always larger than life, incredibly strong man in front of you was reduced to tears dripping from his now blown and hazy eyes, falling down flushed cheeks and landing on the front of his shirt that clung to his hyperventilating chest. You knew he had been shot, stabbed often, and left for dead a time or two, but this…
Shiny and new neurotoxin, you remembered the brief, attacks the nervous system, causing the mark to feel intense arousal and as if they have been lit on fire, specially formulated not only to cause pain but a complete and utter breakdown of will as victims often experience hallucinations and loss of self. If left in the system, it raises the core temperature until convulsions set in, and then heart attack occurs. Do not touch it.
No one had to ask how it was worked out of the system. Then again, they all believed they were too smart to touch the shit. Couldn’t do much about breathing it in when your mask was ripped from your face though.
  Your hand pressed to his slick forehead now radiating heat, and feeling as if it could burn you like an open flame. At the touch of your blessedly cool hand, he hissed a low fuck through his gritted teeth, keening into your touch. You swallowed, hand tilting his cheek to look up at you when you asked, “Can I help?”  His hair was sticking up at all angles from the helmet being hastily pulled from his head, and he looked up at you and gave one weak nod, “Please.”
Upon looking at the desperation pooling in those dark eyes (those eyes you often were caught staring at) any small reservations evaporated from your body under his burning gaze. You swiftly reached out, mercifully helping him escape from the now too-tight pants, the bite of his zipper. The moment your skin brushed against the head of him he was bucking up against it. You had to reach the other hand out to steady yourself against his shoulder, another touch that jutted his hips and had him twitching into your grip.
“Is- is this helping?” you croaked out, struggling to swallow, struggling to contain the wave of arousal that was threatening to course through you. He nodded, chin slack against his chest as he watched your hand work against him, moving up and down against the veins seemingly trying to break through his skin. No thoughts went through his mind other than the knowledge that you were jerking him off and that it felt so good that he could cry in relief. But then something shuddered within him, something loud and fast like a wildfire, burning just as much, and hot thick ropes of cum spilled over your hand. He couldn’t even cry out, it happened so fast. His breath was coming out in loud pants, when a new thought, the thought that he had just come in maybe thirty seconds flashed through his mind but it was quickly replaced with the horrible realization that the feeling of being on fire wasn’t going away. It was getting worse, out of control, containment measures failed. At this, he let out a sob as his hips moved of their own volition into your still soothing grip. It wasn’t enough, he knew, you knew, it wasn’t enough.
 You stood, and he whimpered at the loss of your touch but all sound stopped in his throat when he watched you decisively unzip your pants and pull them down to your ankles underwear included, kicking off a boot, and one pant leg. When you straddled his lap he desperately pulled you down onto him, your exposed core grinding down where he wanted you, where he fucking needed you, that’s when he began to talk. Begging you to help him, saying that he’s sorry over and over, that he needs your help, incoherent babbling from a breaking mind, please it hurts so bad, I-I don’t, I can’t- fuck, I need you... All cool, calm, collectedness burnt to fucking ash. Just a man reduced to pure longing and want. A longing and want that might be what was threatening to kill him, not the toxin, just the build up over the days, weeks, months he had been around you threatening to crush him. He almost wants to die, this was never how it was supposed to be. He wanted it to be good for you, you deserve that, you deserve better, he could have given you better-
But now what was he? A heaving chest under a sweat soaked shirt beneath eyes that watch you like some feral animal. Hands wanting to claw at the clothing now so heavy, hot, and itchy against his burning skin, but instead were gripping onto your hips like it’s going to save him from burning to a crisp. The broken moans tearing their way from his throat when you line up his painfully hard cock to your entrance makes you throb, and then his choking cry as you slide down on him punches the air from your chest.
“Does this feel ok?” you panted out after a moment, struggling, trying not to drown in the pleasure of him stretching you, filling you. He couldn’t form the words, couldn’t even nod. His forehead falling to your shoulder in utter relief, mouth dropped open as he repeats your name over and over like an apology, a thanks, a goddamned prayer. How all he can do is sit there on the floor of some warehouse, back against a wall, the only thing resembling his usual strength is that ironclad hold he has on your hips as he helps you drag yourself up, then, accompanied by the tortuously obscene sounds of your wetness, back down. Brokenly pleading with you not to stop, don’t stop, fuck p-please don’t stop. You feel like molten heaven against his cock, your moans like angels (or devils, he’s too far gone to care at this point) singing through the blood rushing in his ears. One of your hands again steadies yourself on his shoulder, the other steadying him, an anchor point, with your achingly gentle hold on the nape of his damp neck (so gentle that it breaks his fucking heart, he wanted to give you more, you deserved more) as you ride him. Your hips rock once more, twice more, before his body seizes up with electricity that ricochets up his spinal cord and reverberates through his skull. His fingers dig into the soft skin of your hips, teeth grinding and eyes slamming shut, as he releases inside of you with a shattered cry. The sound of you gasping, now clutching, raking your fingers into him, has his hips continuing their rutting up into you, pushing his cum as deep as he can within your walls.
He stills for 10 seconds at most, panting breaths thunderous between you two, before pulling you into his chest, his hips slamming up into you, hard and hot as if he didn’t just fuck you until he could see every neuron firing behind his eyes. His hot open mouth finds your shocked one in a perfectly surprised “o,” more apologies pushing from his lungs and into yours between loud wet kisses as he listens (is blessed with thank you God) to you beginning to come apart. You couldn’t help it, as you ground down into his thrusts, even though you knew the threatening climax was going to be terrifying. Your breathing was ragged now as well, the air becoming harder and harder to drag into your lungs in between you cursing and moaning, and then- fucking hell- you’re at the precipice. Before you can even utter a syllable you are being flung over the edge. The pleasure rips through you, waves breaking against the rocky shore, with such intensity that it hurts, causing you to dig your nails into his skin, and bright spots to dance behind your closed eyes while the distant feeling of wetness registers from between you two. He explodes again with a gasp, feels you clench around him like a vice, his name, his real name, forcing its way from inside you and into his mouth with every pulse and it tastes so so good that he can’t stop, he never wants to stop, just filling you up until it drips from you, filling you with him because you’re his, his. Even when you both whimper and shudder with overstimulation, his arms shaking in their grip around you, he can only press his forehead to yours, rolling it desperately, as he begs for your forgiveness. I can’t stop, it won’t stop, I’ll make it good, please next time I’ll make it good.
“It is good,” you whisper to him with hitched breath from each thrust, trying to reassure him, “It’s ok, it’s ok.” You don’t know if he can hear you, his eyes are wild and don’t seem to even register that you are actually on top of him, that he’s inside of you, that he has made you yell out his name over and over and over. You don’t think he even knows what he is saying. Next time.
 His own voice comes to him from somewhere far away, through the flames licking at his mind, please- fuckin’ hell please, just a little more- I just need one more, I need you, please don’t stop, I don’t want to stop nearly unrecognizable as he comes inside you again and again and again.
It isn’t until the medevac came and he was sedated that what just happened began to sink in. For a week, a fucking week, he’s in critical condition. No one talks about it, at least not in the way you all did before this. You saved him, you’re told. You don’t want to think about it, if you think about it then you think about how good it felt, how fucked it is that it felt good, and how everything is gone. If you think about all he said, you’d overthink, give meaning where there was none. He probably won’t be able to look at you anymore. You went to see him that first day. You sat next to him for mere minutes before bolting, the fear of him waking up and looking at you with disgust, telling you to get out in that icy voice you knew so well, sent you running straight to the mats to train until you wanted to scream. That’s all you did now, and that was where you decided you would stay until you died. That is until someone came and found you, told you he was awake, and that he had asked for you. The whole walk to the infirmary had adrenaline coursing through you, you wanted to run, to fight, to freeze right there in the hall and never move another fucking muscle. The thought of losing him, him being there but not wanting to be near you anymore made you feel sick. It had been so long, so long of repressing those feelings that flared in your chest when he smiled at you during sparring, the feeling of him seated next to you on a flight, his eyes catching yours just so you could stay with him. Well, you thought with dripping ire, that had literally and figuratively been fucked now hadn’t it?  
You knocked, heard his gruff voice, and entered. You stopped dead in your tracks three steps into the room after mistakenly looking up and finding him staring at you from where he sat on the edge of the bed, already dressed, looking like he was about to head out on another call. You were desperately trying not to shake but your hands gave you away. You could take on a man twice your size without batting an eye but this?- you were terrified.
The moment you walked into the room, all his time that morning when he first woke thinking about what he would say to you, how he could face you, was knocked from his mind. You had saved his life. He never wanted that. He wanted to give it to you, it was yours after all. He didn’t know when it had become yours, every single part of him, but if he had to wager a guess it was the moment he found you in his life. And it might all be ruined.
The memories had started coming to him immediately after waking up, almost more clear and real now than in the moment.  It jolted him awake so hard that the attending ran into the room for fear that his hammering heart had in fact given out. Once his breathing had calmed a little, he tried to sift through the fog. His recall of the smell of you, the arousal dripping from between your legs, mixed with your sweat and the familiar scent of your grapefruit and ginger shampoo, nearly pulled a groan from his chest. The soft touch of your hands, cool and strong against the fire that spread through his blood, had brought him back. The feeling of you breaking, the soft whines, the way you said his name… the things he had said, he couldn’t just shut the fuck up could he?
He had to bring his hands up to cover his eyes, willing the images to go away, just for a moment, please, he just needed some time, if only he had time- next time. Next time, he had told you. A desperate promise, a reassurance, trying to tell you that it wasn’t just the chemical coursing through him, it wasn’t just his hijacked nervous system. Did she know? Did she understand? That’s when he asked for you, without thinking, just wanting to see you, to explain. He had never been good with words unless it was biting sarcasm across comms or coolly delivering ultimatums in an interrogation. Then he remembered, the thing that sent his heart barreling through his chest for the second time, the machine next to him screaming. It is good, you had said, it’s ok, it’s ok, you had whispered.  
He ripped the monitors off his chest, ignoring the doctor's protestations, found the clothes that had been brought in for him and got dressed. Now that you were standing here before him he was unsure. You looked scared, and he could count on one hand all the times he had seen you in such a state.
His staring was unnerving, more unnerving than if he had shouted, yelled, grabbed you, anything but this, this was fucking torture. You had to leave, just get off base, go somewhere, anywhere but here- the sudden sound of your name shook you from the reverie. The tone had your eyes finding his immediately.
He stayed seated, scared that if he stood, if he made his way to you, you would run, and you both knew that you were much quicker than him. If you ran, if you left, he would never catch up.  Only when his knuckles began to ache did he realize how tightly he was gripping the edge of the mattress in an effort to keep himself there. It was hard to look at you and not remember the way you had looked when you pressed your hand to his forehead, when you had thrown your head back in pleasure, when you had grabbed his face when he was too exhausted to continue but thankfully no longer felt like he was burning alive. It was hard to remember and not stride across the room and hold you. He took a breath and forced his shoulders to relax in a way that he had done so many times before.
“I-,” he started, his voice cutting through the room, his normal voice, the one you recognized as him and it set you slightly at ease from sheer familiarity, “I’m so sorry.” Now he had to turn his eyes downcast.
“What?” Your response, the shock in your voice, forced him to look at you again. Your hands itched at your sides, confusion rippling across your face.
His eyes narrowed, he knew you so well. Always blaming yourself. “I’m sorry,” he repeated, “I’m sorry that happened, I’m sorry you were put in that position,” the word choice made him nearly cringe. He continued, “I never-I didn’t want it to happen that way.”
Your brain jolted, standing there in shocked silence, his words thundering through your ears accompanied by the pleading of next time.
He pressed on, desperately trying, “I know you, you’re going to think this was your fault. It wasn’t. There was nothing either of us could do, thank you for your, uh, help. Just- fuck, please just say some-,”
Shock still swept through you, the words escaped your mouth before you could think, “Did you mean it?” You figured by the way he leaned back that he knew what you were talking about. Then he held out a hand, palm up, an offering. Before you knew it, you had crossed the room, putting your hand in his and letting it gently pull you between his legs. His giant frame meant even sitting on the gurney that his gaze was level with yours, and those eyes searched your own when one word sounded through the room.
“Yes.”
This word broke you. One fucking word, one word that answered every glance between you two, every smile shared, a word you brokenly whispered into the night when you had a hand between your legs thinking about him knowing you shouldn’t. You hadn’t cried all week, but now the giant tears rolling down your cheeks felt like a release. When his free hand, warm and rough, swiped them away you couldn’t help leaning into it, just as he had done. All tension, all fear, dissipated from the room. That hand continued to just below your ear, cupping your neck, and gently pulling you forward to press his head against yours, eyes shutting, just resting there against each other in the moment.
“What the fuck are we gonna do?” you sighed.
You could feel the smirk that you knew was slipping across his mouth.
“Well, I did say next time.”
This time when you rode him with the small bed creaking beneath the movements, he stopped you any time you tried to speed up (it was your turn to beg and plead), keeping you at a languid torturous pace. That way the bastard had all the time in the world to whisper into your mouth, letting you taste each word, all the things he would do to you next time and all the times after that.
Thank you so much for reading, please let me know what you think! :)
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evasive-anon · 3 months
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Jason Attacking Tim at Titans Tower
Fanon vs Canon
We've all seen the versions in fanfiction but I'm not so sure everyone's seen the original so if you're one of those batfam fans who doesn't want to read the comics (regardless of reasons) but you are curious about how it actually went this is for you.
What I'm addressing:
What does Jason actually say to Tim during the attack?
Did Jason drug all the other Titans?
Did Jason really wear a Robin costume?
Did Jason slit Tim's throat or call him replacement?
Did Jason actually break Tim's bo staff?
Was Tim crying or scared?
Did Jason write a message on the wall in Tim's blood?
Did Jason's eyes glow green?/Did he follow pit rage mechanics?
Panels and details below. This is a LONG one.
What did Jason actually say to Tim during the attack?
Dialogue in fanfiction during the Titans Tower attack varies based on what kind of fic you're reading but usually its either 'time to clip Replacement's wings' if its staying a beatdown whump 'or oh no precious lil bby why is no one watching you' if its an accidental child acquisition. Not judging either option, but this ain't about them its about the real shit.
Look at these opening lines:
Hey, Tim. I was here first.You're the Red Hood. You've been cleaning up Gotham the easy way. Easy? What do you know about easy, Tim? You had a father that looked after you. You went to a private school, right? You slept in a bed. I slept on the streets, I lived in the alleyways in Gotham. Trying to survive. Until Bruce took me in. I trained as hard as I could. I did whatever he asked. . . at least at first. But it didn't matter. They said I wasn't tough enough to be robin. But today, they say you are. Show me, Tim. Show me what you have that I didn't.
Jason really puts himself out there in all of his dialogue in this encounter, the struggle of having to fight for anything and everything he got in life, even the things that came to everyone else for free, and then being told he wasn't even good enough for the things he fought for.
There's a trope in fanfics that if Jason knew Tim stalked Batman and forced his way into being Robin that it would change how Jason felt about the situation but that's even addressed in this comic:
You were a kid, worried about how Batman was spiraling down into darkness. You spent weeks tracking the dark knight. Solving a mystery no one else could. You discovered who he was behind that mask. Millionaire Bruce Wayne. You were so pleased with yourself, I'm sure that you forgot who you were really dealing with. I know Bruce Wayne. And let me tell you, Tim if someone was trying to find out who Batman really was. If someone was stalking him for weeks. He'd know about it. You can't be that good. I am. He let you find him. And I bet he said the same thing to you as he did to me, didn't he? That you had a talent to make a difference in Gotham. That he needed someone he could trust in war on crime. That you were one of a kind. The light to his darkness. Robin, the Boy Wonder.
Tim saying 'I am' is really such a moment that doesn't come through in text because he is right that he really did do that but I also completely understand why Jason wouldn't believe it.
TBH my favorite part is how done Tim honestly sounds with Jason thoughout all his trauma dumping. Like imagine a grown man who used to work the same part time job as you breaking into your house, dressing up in your work uniform, ranting about how much the job ruined his life while he beats your ass??? God, and he probably had to write a fucking report about it after. RIP Timmy.
What do you want? Do you want to be Robin again? Is that it? You... want to take it away from me? Why in the hell would I ever want that? Don't you get it? When I died no one cared! No one remembered me. Are you completely insane? No one could forget you. I've spent my entire career wearing this mask under your shadow. I had to convince Batman to let me try this. All because he'll never stop blaming himself for what happened to you. You ask me, that's the only reason he hasn't taken you down. He's holding back. But me? No freakin' way. That's the Robin I wanted to see. Still. You do realize the whole idea of training a teenager to fight against something he'll never eradicate is a mistake. It didn't even surprise anyone when I died. When I failed. I failed-- but I'm still beating you. Do you think you're that good now?! Do you really, Tim? Yes.
Tim bashing Jason across the face as he says 'no freakin' way'? *chefs kiss*
Jason drugging the other Titans to knock them out?
Little bit true, Kory was actually just already away from the tower and BB and Cyborg were about to bounce because of the drama going on with Donna's return but Jason like super tazes them and then drugs Raven who he thought already went through enough shit without him knocking her out violently.
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Note: Jason says in the text here that he never rolled with Cyborg or BB but like he actually did in some comics so?? The continuity is lie I guess idk.
Did he show up in Red Hood gear or a Robin costume?
Both tbh but he spent most of the time in the Robin costume but bro actually made a stripper rip away version of his Red Hood gear so he could dramatically reveal the Robin costume underneath. I can't believe no one ever includes that in their fics its so fucking funny.
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Does he call Tim 'replacement' or slit his throat?
No, this came from a Batman comic with Hush not Teen Titans. That incident takes place in a graveyard not Titans Tower and he calls Tim pretender not replacement.
Does Jason break Tim's staff?
Tragically, no. The bo staff snap would have been iconic. Instead he just takes Tim's staff and beats Tim up with it and breaks stuff. BUT!! He uses it to bust a statue in the TITANS MEMORIAL ROOM which is a place in Titans Tower just for having statues of dead previous titans and Jason is rightfully pissed he didn't get one. Like Tim is correct in saying no one forgot him still but like I would be hurt too if all my friends made cool statues of friends that died and then just left my zombie ass out, like wtf.
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Note: I am seriously losing my shit that I have never seen someone bring up the memorial room in a fanfic. That is so much angst material. 😭
Tim crying/ being scared?
Hell no. He's a fucking Robin you know he's being a sassy boy the whole time, even towards the end when he's about done he's still saying he's her and I love Tim for that.
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Note: There are a few different times where Tim does a flippy Robin move and then Jason just fucking copies it like flexing that he can do it too, and its just so petty and stupid he's trying so hard to be better than an actual child. 💀I get why in the context of the situation but its still so ridiculous.
Message on the wall in Tim's blood?
TBH I really don't know for sure on this one?? Like its implied that he did but Tim isn't bleeding all that much throughout this beatdown and like we don't see Jason do it just the Titans reacting to seeing it after. It could be Tim's blood, it could be red paint, and it could even be that Jason packed an actual bucket of blood to bring with him to write a message with after he finished. TBH the world is your oyster on this one.
Note: If anyone can find another comic where this event was brought up where they actually clarify it was Tim's blood hmu and I'll update this but I couldn't find any.
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Pit rage/ glowing green eyes?
Fanon only at this point in the comics. Jason is seems to be himself and even thinks Tim and his friends are pretty cool at the end, and he's just like reflecting on if he had good friends if he would have turned out better as he leaves.
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hazelfoureyes · 2 months
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The Radio Demon Fucks a Human Sacrifice (part 4)
⟢ part1♡̶sidestory♡̶part2♡̶part3♡̶part4 ⟣
7k words of a fever dream, happy Sunday, sinners ✨💦 I really hope you like it 🥺💖
You were back, unexpectedly but welcomed nonetheless. But now Alastor finds himself in a new kind of hell. There was, unfortunately for him, no killing what he felt when he looked at you.
{Warnings/Promises: Smut, Ace spectrum Alastor x FemReader, Alastor has feelings, creampie is the best nighttime snack, Angel is always the good guy, cervix punishment, mating press, Alastor demon form, Antlers go brrrr, drinking to forget, drowning (in cum)((and emotions)), discussions of murder, Alastor gets horny for discussions of murder, kinda breed kink if you squint, I saw a fan image of a hazbin hotel pool and it’s been stuck in my head for days.}
MINORS DNI (ah! Eh! I — stop. I see you. You know I see you, right? Get outta here! 🚨)
⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹
You were quick to stifle your smile, seeing Alastor standing in front of you with his hand outstretched. Why were you smiling? You were dead. Brutally so. And, You were in hell. But the corners of your mouth kept tugging upward at the sight of the stupid fucking deer demon before you. His own wild smile, eyes half lidded as he looked at you like he knew you.
You took his hand, needing the help standing. He fingers slipped from your palm and came to rub the velvet skin of your—- ears? You smacked his hand away, taking a step back.
The look he gave you, confusion? You weren’t sure, his head cocked to the side, hand lingering a beat longer in the air. He took a step toward you and you took one back.
Alastor laughed, “Quite the welcome, dear.”
You narrowed your eyes, did he know? Did he know you dreamt of him so many nights? That you struggled daily to not see his face behind your eyelids, not hear his lilting voice in your ear?
“Long time no see, Alastor.” You didn’t mean to sound quite so bored when you said it, you weren’t really sure at all what was going on in your head. You didn’t expect to see him so soon, literally immediately upon your death. You didn’t have time to recalibrate the mixed up feelings you had created for yourself over this stranger.  
You pined for months to see him again, trying so hard to push the memory of him as deep as you could. So deep, in fact, you found yourself tortured at night with fantasies of his company. Even during the day, your life was altered around him. You couldn’t listen to the radio, the odd static and reverb just forcing him back into your consciousness. You took long forest walks, thinking about hunters and deer. You wore that fucking robe for an embarrassingly long time, remembering being in another world entirely.
Alastor’s face fell, throat closing slightly as he thought he realized what was happening. You didn’t remember the time you’d spent with him. He had been enjoying lazy nights in his room and pleasurable times in the woods with a ghost. He took a step closer, maybe if he— maybe your body would remember? If you just smelled his bed, perhaps you’d stop acting so cold. If he could awaken the impressions he was sure he left on your soul, he could pick up where he left off. A comfortable companion. Kind eyes that only saw him. His name, sweet and low tumbling from your lips.
You hit the wall with your back, making distance from him. He hadn’t hurt you, but you couldn’t be sure what would happen now. Fantasies are no indication of a person’s real self. Your dream romps were just that— dreams. Fiction your mind produced to fill the gap in your life he somehow created in your short time together. Imagination fleshing out this unknown demon you couldn’t stop thinking about. 
His hand fell. There was a second his smile dropped, brows knitted. It came and it went, “Well! I best go get Charlie. She is the official welcome committee of the Hazbin Hotel, after all. Follow me.” The door swung open, his long arm gesturing.
Charlie pulled you into a hug, bouncing between “Welcome back!” And “I am so, so sorry you died!” She held your hands in hers, “The hotel has gone through a lot since you left! I have so much to show you. While Alastor has your room b…” her voice carried on, but your mind stayed put. She did jazz hands at every sconce and door frame on the way to the lobby.
You had expected it, your death. You figured there was a 50/50 chance you didn’t make it out of that forest. But that didn’t make this moment any less surreal. You looked down at your body, yours but new. Your hands came to your head, fingers climbing up your skull until you found them. Two soft, tulip petal shaped ears. Were you going to be sick? The room began to spin. Charlie’s voice underwater. Was some detective going to knock on your parent’s door? Carrying a folder with your photo and bad news? Your eyes clenched at the image, your heart ballooning in your chest.
“Maybe she needs to take a rest,” his voice cut through the waters of your confusion, a spear straight to your psyche. His hand slipped up your arm, resting on your back. You shook your head, eyes blinking wildly. 
“It’s fine. Please, Charlie, continue your tour.” You took an exaggerated step to your left, out from under his touch. You thought you heard him sigh. Why was he being so kind? The last time you spoke you were staring daggers at him while he carried on about doing exactly what he had promised.
Charlie excitedly presented the lobby to you, the bar, the library. Alastor walked a few feet behind you both, quiet, his shadow dancing down the hallway in front of you. It’s mouth flipping from grin to grimace and back as it watched you nod along to every detail Charlie felt you should know.
The newest addition to the hotel since you left, a large indoor pool on the second to top floor. You lingered there, watching the water reflect pink and red light from the floor to ceiling windows overlooking Pentagram City.
“Almost done! To the left is Dad’s studio. He comes and goes. Ya know, parent stuff.”
You tried to mask your concern for whatever damaged parent-child relationship she was referencing.
“And to the right is Alastor’s radio station.”
You glanced to the demon, standing near the wall, inspecting his nails. “I didn’t know he had a radio station. I just assumed-,” You shrugged, “He just sounded like that.”
Alastor felt his bottom lid of his left eye twitch involuntarily. Why were you speaking like he wasn’t there?
He bit his tongue, literally. He needed time to think, to plan how to handle this situation. Your death was early and therefore unexpected for him, too. Not nearly as surprising, though, as your loss of memory of him.
He knew though, maybe this was for the best. If you were here, if he could see you around the hotel, perhaps that desire to have you near would die down. His shadow shifted behind him before sinking into the floor. Yes, exactly. This was a good thing. His eyes glanced to you, to your little doe features, two ears and a tiny fluff of a tail. His jaw tightened, had you done it on purpose? What did it mean?
”Would you like to see it?” He didn’t recognize his own voice, because he hadn’t realized he was going to say it until it was done.
Yes. “No thank you.” You wanted to run face first into the wall. It felt like your ribs were twisting off your spine. One side lurched up—- touch him. He wants you, he felt so good. Get him alone. The other side pulling down—- fuck him. He owns you, he’s a demon. Stay away from him.
His ears turned back and down, folding into his skull. You tried to keep your face neutral as you stared back at him, breathing teetering on panting. Every time you looked at him you were in danger of spilling your guts. 
“Well!” Charlie slid into the tense air between you two, nervous chuckles, “That makes sense! Because Al’s station is super off limits. So. Uhh where was I going with this.” She looked around, “Is the room ready, Al?”
He nodded, leading you both to the elevator and a few floors down. 
“This floor is for our more precious residents. Not that every soul isn’t precious! But ya knooow,” she opened your door, “You’ve got Angel, Husk, Niffty, sometimes Cherri Bomb, and Alastor as neighbors!”
Yippee. You get to lie awake knowing the object of your fucked desire is just past an easily smashed wall.
There was a moment where you all three looked at each other. Charlie becoming more and more fidgety as the seconds ticked on.
“Sooo, We should let her rest, like you said, right Alastor?” Charlie began a dramatic walk to the bedroom door, taking big steps with high knees.
You needed to do this and let it be. “Actually, may I have a moment, Alastor?”
Always, Yes. “I suppose I have the time, my dear.” He twirled his microphone stand before settling it behind his back. Charlie wanted to ask you if you were sure, but the tension was rising again. She backed out of the room, pulling the door closed as she went.
Alone. Again. There was a feeling in the air, like you would either fuck or fight. Was it an animal thing? Or was it always there?
“I never got to thank you.”
His stomach turned, he couldn’t bear this again. Please, stop thanking him. Smile straining, struggling to keep it together, he nodded, “Whatever for?”
You had a strange feeling, a familiarity to the conversation. Ah, that was right. Would this end the same way as your dream? With you on your back? “You were — true to your word.” You fiddled with the comforter of the bed, avoiding looking at him. “You were gentle and you got me home safe and sound. I didn’t thank you. I was just so-,”
“Full of misplaced rage?” His head tilted to the left, eyebrows high.
“Just rage, would have been fine. It was an unfair situation that you helped get me out of.”
Alastor watched your face, only sadness to be found. Not a sight he took any pleasure in. “Well you should truly thank Angel Dust. He is the one who brought me to you, desperate to help you. Even offered me his soul! Not that it’s his to give.”
No one had told you. “Oh,” genuine surprise, “Thank you for that. Yeah, I have to thank him. I’d probably still be in Valentino’s—,” the light of the lamp beside the bed flickered, “studio.”
Looking at you, Alastor couldn’t decipher the feeling in his chest. Relief, sure. Shock, yes. But behind that, a strange tugging beneath his sternum. A pain, vague and nebulous floating over his chest. Why did you come back so soon? Why did you die so early? He wanted to ask you so many things, but if you didn’t retain any memory of your time with him, he doubted he would like the answers.
“I’m going to finish my mental breakdown now, thanks for the tour and uh, the information.” Scratching awkwardly at your arm, you went and opened the door. He paused a moment before moving. “I would like to see your radio station, sometime. If you’d want to show me.” He nodded and left. The room felt colder now, deader.
Your night went exactly how you anticipated, lying awake in the plush red blankets of your new home staring at the ceiling. You wondered if you slept, if you’d see him again. Thoughts of the overworld, family, connections. Little fits of rest came but nothing more than 30 minutes here and there. 
Alastor paced his room until dawn, an animal in an unlocked cage. When you had appeared, dead and truly in hell, he thought you’d come to see him. He was embarrassed to even think it now, he had believed you wanted to be with him in earnest.  As comfortable with his company as he was yours. He cradled his head, again he felt himself succumbing to the enjoyment of others. He had accepted it with you, more so than the rest, and now it was a weapon in your hands. He felt like an idiot. And he hated it. What a fool, to think you’d died to get home to him. A growl rising in his chest. Home. He desperately wanted to see Rosie, to vent the situation and find clarity. But the idea of leaving you alone in the hotel irked him. He couldn’t put his finger on why. Maybe you wouldn’t be here when he returned. He could always summon you with your connection to him, but he wanted you to be there, with him, of your own volition or he didn’t want it at all.
If you’d forgotten entirely, he had two courses of action. To start over, or to let it die. 
He looked to his bed, remembering you lying there. Sleeping, peaceful, content. Safe. Alastor turned to the wall, knowing you lied just beyond the wallpaper and sheet rock in your own deathbed, alone. The out of place physical need for you was something he struggled with, but whatever feeling this was — far worse. You were his, yet he couldn’t have you. Couldn’t possess you in the ways he’d grown accustomed to the past year. Starting over felt tedious. But this wasn’t a feeling that would die, he knew that. He could feel that by how deep the roots of his despair sunk into his soul when you looked at him like a stranger. 
He didn’t rest that night, and neither did you.
Maybe it was the deal, the connection between you and him, but no matter where you were in the hotel you could feel him. A sixth sense, his presence always on your radar. A small part of your brain power was always on him, focused on the idea of Alastor. You wandered the halls until the others woke, feeling that little string between the two of you. Taut, strong.
When you found Angel that first morning back, you took a seat beside him in the lobby. 
“Alastor told me you are why I got help. From Valentino.” You tried your best to maintain eye contact, not getting distracted by his arms.
“Don’t mention it, sweetheart. I kinda did it for myself, I wouldn’t have been able to sleep again if I just let it happen. I’m a freak but I ain’t sick in the head like Val.” He locked his phone, turning to you, “So do you always start passin’ out mid-convo or does Charlie’s voice just do something to ya?” 
You groaned, “Did she tell you that?”
“Well she panic-sang it, real worried about you. Did you get settled in yesterday?”
“I didn’t sleep, now that you mention it.” Angel laughed, taking you by surprise, “What?”
“Oh I’m sure you didn’t. Not with your co-star next door.” He winked, “I’m sure you’re happy to be here in the flesh.”
“Ugh I forgot about that. Did -,”
“Everyone see it? Yeah you’re a minor celebrity.” You took a throw pillow and screamed into it while he spoke, “But hey! At least you don’t gotta worry about crazy fans. Smiles will keep ‘em at bay.”
“Why would he do anything for me?” Pillow still over your face, you groaned, “I’m just a soul on his roster.”
“Ha I don’t think he treats just any soul the way he’s been treatin’ you. I think Husk would tell me.” Angel kicked his feet, “What a mental image! Does he have pubes? I feel like he does but they’re like, sharp? Like hostile somehow?”
Pillow down, “Ew, Angel! Hostile? How the fuck would I know?”
Angel stopped, wide eyed, “Oh is it a secret? Is that part of the deal?” A sinister giggle, “You can tell ole’ Angel Dust. We’re pals, remember? You technically owe me.” His many fingers poked at your sides, goading you.
You scrunched up your nose, swatting at his hands, “Angel, what are you talking about?”
His smile fell, now side eyeing you, he opened his mouth to ask you to stop playing coy when he heard you all those nights in Alastor’s room when Charlie burst into the lobby. 
“I am so sorry! I didn’t tell you about the redemption activities!” She tossed papers onto the coffee table, “Alright, plan Stairway to Heaven!”
Angel sat back, bored the juicy gossip had to wait, your attention fully occupied by Charlie’s sketches.
Alastor watched you from the second floor balcony. Over the next few days he would always be watching, either from the shadows or out in the open. Looking at you, that carnal hunger was gone. He felt no overpowering desire to be surrounded by you. But, now and then, you’d make a small noise or sigh and he would feel a little twitch. A muscle memory reaction to you
Where the need to touch you had faded, he instead found an insatiable hunger to be near you. He had thought it would be better, you at the hotel. But it had become worse. The further you were, the more undone he felt. It baffled him. So, he stayed near. You were almost always within earshot or eye sight. If not, he at least knew where you were. He could focus on the hotel and his plans for Charlie only then. 
You never looked at him, it was obviously on purpose. Even when he would take a seat beside you or across from you, you’d manage to glance everywhere but directly at Alastor. By the fourth day, he felt like he was going to snap. It was beginning to feel disrespectful. 
That fourth night when you again couldn’t sleep, you found yourself at the edge of the pool. Did people in hell swim? You’d been there for nearly two hours and not a single sinner appeared. It was well past midnight, though.
The entire room was tinged pink, shadows a pretty red. The water itself looked like a sea of rose quartz. You didn’t have a bathing suit. You didn’t have anything now that you thought about it. Nevertheless, you slipped into the water and let yourself float from the edge.
What a familiar feeling, floating. The ceiling shimmered with the water’s ever-moving reflection. Mind reeling back to the green glow casting your shadow on the ceiling of Valentino’s studio. You closed your eyes, you were always sinking it seemed. Sinking out of consciousness, into a another dream, out of the woods and into the bedroom of your captivator. The only times you felt weightless— ah, right. Body held up by shadows, cameras rolling. Under him, beneath the stars, sleeping form disconnected from your mind. It was always with him. You wondered for a second if you could sleep like this. What would happen if you drowned. Could you drown?
The carpet soaked with every step you took, your body sopping wet, clothes heavy with pool water. You were dragging your bare feet to the elevator when you saw a light coming from the ajar door to Alastor’s radio studio. 
He was looking over papers, monocle resting on his cheek. Alastor turned to you, taking note of your shoes in your hand and wet hair. Your ears were heavy with water, fine fur drooping with the weight. “You look like a drowned rat, my doe.”
“Don’t call me that,” you wiped your hair from your face, “I can’t sleep.”
You never struggled to sleep in his bed. “What did you do when you couldn’t sleep on earth?”
Your life already felt far in the rearview, either the effects of sleep exhaustion or your time in the underworld, “I slept… really well. Not a sleepless night I can remember.”
Alastor only hummed a response. Because all of your sleepless nights were here, with him. 
“Why are you working?”
“Why are you swimming?”
“I just told you.” Your brows knitted, was this a conversation or a riddle.
Ever present smile beamed back at you, “Well then take a guess!”
You stared at him, sitting at his curved desk with all his switches and buttons. Papers here and there. Just smiling at you. “Cool, thanks for the waste of time.” You turned to leave when you heard a low sound coming from his chest.
“Why do you speak to me like that? Avoid me?” He stood, hair sharp and standing at attention, “What have I done to you to deserve your disgust?”
“Nothing! That’s-,” the problem, “I’m just tired. I don’t feel right, like I misplaced something. There’s a nagging feeling, maybe something I forgot in the overworld.”
Alastor closed the gap between you two, “I can assure you everything you need is here.”
You rolled your eyes, “Yeah. Of course.” Turning to leave, his clawed hand reached for your wrist. Pulling you back, your wet clothes were now soaking into his suit.
His free hand took your chin and made you look up at him. Alastor’s red and pink eyes stared into yours, grin wider than you remembered seeing it before. You fixed your gaze on the desk behind him. “Look at me.” His voice cracked with a static interference. Your eyes finally came to his, your hand now holding his wrist just below your chin. “Don’t you dare look away.” He saw it, a flash of recognition flit across your now wide eyes. There was a pulse of electricity to your core, your body remembering his voice, those words, like an activation phrase. How did he know? Your thighs rubbed together, feet barely touching the ground as he held you close.
When his lips crashed into yours, you melted for a moment. Your body relaxed into him, a small whine slipping from your mouth to his. But then something in you snapped back, remembering he was a stranger holding your leash. You pulled his hand from your face with ease as your feet came back to the ground. Tugging your wrist free, you opened your mouth to yell at him, nothing but heavy breathing came out. Again, he reduced you to speechlessness. You glanced at his face before turning; he looked wounded.
You thought you heard his shoes shuffling along the carpet as you rushed into the elevator. A bang, a thrash, echoing down the elevator shaft as you descended to your floor. 
Did he think because you acquiesced to sex before, somewhat under the pressure of a worse fate, he could just kiss you anytime he wanted? Did he see you as a toy? 
Maybe being a toy would be nice. Maybe a good fuck would let you finally sleep. He did hit all the right places, those shadowy appendages never letting a single need go ignored…
You slammed your door shut, angrily peeling off your clothes. No, you weren’t a possession. You weren’t an object to be taken off the shelf at his convenience. No matter how much your body ached for his clawed hands and thin waist, you wouldn’t lower yourself to being under him. Not metaphorically, therefore not physically. You curled onto your bed, naked, body humming for him. Sleep came in pieces, fractured moments of rest.
“You look like shit.” Angel greeted you when the sun finally rose and everyone mulled around the hotel. You waited until you were sure the lobby bar wouldn’t be empty, you didn’t want to run into him alone. 
“How do you fucking sleep in this place? All night just screams and moans from the city.” You rested your cheek on the bar, “Husk, something with orange juice that’ll make me forget where I am, please.”
“The moans are my favorite. Speaking of moanin’ in the night-,” Angel was cut off.
“Get used to it. You sold your soul to a psychotic dick. Welcome to the club,” Husk’s tone was harsh, tilting into sardonic as he slid your drink to you.
With a huff, you sat up, “Don’t compare us. You sold your soul. I—,” you searched with your hands for the word, “was guilty of having a colossal cunt of an aunt.” A deep sip of your drink, “Fuck, he only got my soul because he made a deal with a different demon for it. Soul traded in like a used car. I’m the Kia Sorento of hell.”
Husk grumbled, “Yeah well, either way. Might as well get comfortable. We’re here for the long haul.”
Angel put a hand out to shut up Husk, scooting his stool closer to you, “So like— did Mister Wrong-Kinda-Horny have you killed?” His eyes went to your ears and back, “Is that why ya came back a little lady deer? Some kinda sex thing?”
You downed your drink and gestured to Husk to refill your glass, speaking to Angel without looking at him, “Why would he do that?
He grabbed your bar stool and swivelled you to face him, leaning in even closer, “Well, ya know…” his eyebrows raised up and down, ready to finally get the dirty details, “because ya-,”
“My little doe, just who I was looking for.” His sudden appearance startled all three of you. He was ready now, to pin down your fate. Were you going to stay at the hotel permanently or not? With his supervision or without?
“Why does everyone keep interruptin’ me?!” Angel slammed his hand on the bar.
On impulse, your own hand formed a first, “Stop calling me that!”
Alastor laughed, unhinged, a finger wiping a tear from his eye. Still, the attitude with which you spoke to him surprised him, “Oh? Why should I? You are a doe,” his microphone gestured to your head, “And your soul belongs to me. If I remember correctly, so does your body.” His eyes darkened, back bent as he came to your eye level, “But I always have video evidence if you’re unsure of the details.” 
You lifted your glass and cocked your arm back to throw it but stopped. Alastor was grinning, something in his stare egging you on. He was loving this. Finally you were paying some attention to him. You were looking right at him.
Setting the glass back down, you left your stool and slipped past him, “Lucky for you, radio demon. It’s all you have anymore.” You had decided you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of saying his name.
Husk sunk beneath the bar, Alastor’s antlers expanding as his eyes became overtaken with black. Angel scrambled over the counter to join the cowering bartender. Alastor whipped around, spine cracking and stretching. You were in the elevator for another quick escape when you turned and saw him gaining on you, his mouth nearly unhinged, teeth sharp and numerous. His body contorted to get his truly demonic face in your eye line, back bending in half to drop his head down, “What did you say?” The air around him seemed to bend and shake, the hiss of a misaligned radio station biting at your skin.
Your finger was shaking as you pressed the ‘close door’ button repeatedly, wetting your lips you found your foothold in anger again, “Fuck you.”
You didn’t recognize the sounds you heard just past the hollow elevator doors. Something between a screech and a wail. Not a sound you’d heard any deer make before.
Shakey knees and legs melting to jelly barely carried you to your room. You collapsed against the door as soon as you entered, locking it. Not that it mattered, you knew that.
A knock shook the wood and made you yelp.
“It’s me!” You recognized Angel’s voice, “Let me in.”
He fell into your room, hair a mess and eyes wide, “I don’t know where he went but he left the hotel. Jesus Christ you have balls of steel.” He fixed his hair, adjusting his chest fluff, “Or are a total idiot.” He saw the tears swelling in your eyes, gears shifting immediately, “Oh shit, sorry. You okay?”
You shook your head no and crumbled to the floor, “I haven’t fucking slept more than three hours a night in like, five fucking days. I’m going crazy.”
“I don’t know why ya’ll are fightin’ but can’t Alastor help you out? Ya’ll are close, maybe a night in his bed will set you straight.”
Your tears streamed down your face, “Angel! What are you talking about?! You keep saying shit like we’re friends. The closest I’ve been to him was in my fucking wet dreams!” You curled into the fetal position on the carpet, exhausted, scared, confused. You’d never seen something as skin-crawling as his full demonic form. But a part of you was mesmerised by the transformation. A sick part of you, you decided.
Angel lied down beside you, facing you, eyes blinking. One of his hands wiped at your tears, “What exactly happened after you went home?” 
You sniffled, “I couldn’t get him out of my head. I wore your robe. It smelled like you.” 
He laughed, “I wondered where that thing went.”
“I started having these dreams, just—- really fucked dreams of him.”
Angel’s eyes narrowed, “fucked how?”
Your wanted to hide your face but didn’t have the energy to move your arms, “He fucked me in the woods like his life depended on it. Best sex of my life, in my own imagination. Naturally.”
Angel sat up, he didn’t know what to ask first, “best sex?? Sorry- no. Fuck, uh, you had dreams about fucking the Radio Demon? You two never… met up?”
You rolled onto your back, shaking your head, “If he could have visited me, he never did. Trust me, I looked for any sign.”
“Uh huuuuh.” Angel nodded, “Well. His extra weird attitude makes more sense. He’s been super creepy, always just popping’ outta shadows and shit. More than usual.”
Angel looked over you, crying softly on the floor. He considered telling you, but if Alastor hadn’t he figured it was best he stay out of it. Lest he be the one fleeing into elevators.
“Have ya considered actually fucking him?” Angel couldn’t believe he was recommending anyone fuck Alastor, but it seemed like maybe it’d actually do you good.
“Why would I do that?”
Angel looked annoyed, “Because you wanna fuck him?! Get it out of our system?”
“Yes and I sometimes wonder what it would be like to drive into oncoming traffic. We all have the call of the void. He—,” you thought about the kiss, “I feel like it’d just make it worse. I’d want more.”
Angel showed you his phone, “He’s apparently eating sinners in the doom district, so, it’s your call. But maybe a good bang would get you both to chill out.” He scrolled, “Fucking hell. The best sex, of your life? Have you not had much sex or-?”
You crawled up to your bed and plopped your now heavy body down, “Angel.”
“Do you have some weird kink? Is it just really big?”
“Angel!”
“Does he go full demon and his peni-,”
“ANGEL.”
He spun his head around to look at you, “I wanna respect your boundaries but I will actually die again if you don’t explain this shit to me.”
Settling back, you groaned, “I’ve never felt so needed before. He held onto me like he couldn’t breath unless I was under him. But you see him, you’ve been here. Does that sound like him?”
Angel sat beside you, “Honestly didn’t know he knew what sex was until you came here so” he leaned back, two arms holding him up, “You guys are pretty fucked up.” You nodded. “What did he say, when you told him about the dreams?”
“Didn’t really come up.” You rolled your eyes.
He patted your thigh, “Got it. You’re gonna owe me like, a metric shit ton of drugs.” Angel pushed off the bed, waving as he left, “I’ll see ya tomorrow!” 
You sat up, staring curiously at where he had just been. Tomorrow? It was only 9am
.
Angel spent several hours in the lobby, pretending to read and socialize with residents. He jumped from the chaise lounge as soon as he saw Alastor walking into the hotel, “Hey uh, I know you know I think you’re a freaky fuck, but I wanna just say it sucks real bad and I’m sorry.” Alastor didn’t reply or even stop walking, Angel having to jog to keep pace.
“I mean, if my fuck buddy thought our bumpin’ uglies was all just dreams I’d be super fuckin’ bummed too.” Alastor became so still so quickly that Angel nearly fell over trying to stop his momentum. He waved his hand in front of Alastor’s face to make sure he was still conscious, “uhh anyone home in there?”
Alastor’s eyes flicked to dials, residents looking up warily as the power flickered and the space seemed to distort around them, “Explain, quickly.”
“She told me this mornin’! She thinks all those nights you were bangin’ her brains out — which, from one porn star to another, sounded top notch from my room — we’re just horny dreams. She’s all fucked in the head about it.”
Alastor melted into his shadow and slinked down the hall and up the walls, leaving Angel behind, “You all owe me!”
You heard footsteps suddenly advancing on you down the hall. Spinning around, your nose nearly brushed against his, Alastor’s face already down to your level.
He leaned in to you, his mouth hitting against your cheek, “I need to speak to you in my room, dear.” His voice was clearly not asking you. 
Your blood ran cold, goosebumps dancing down your neck and arms. “Why would-,”
“Now.” His arms wrapped around your waist, you pushed him away and turned to walk off but stopped. You weren’t in the hallway anymore. A bedroom. With a haughty laugh you turned to spit venom at him for such a dirty trick.
 As if expecting it, he cut you off, “They weren’t dreams, my doe. It was astral projection.” He took you by the shoulders and pointed your entire body at the forest scene melting into his room. Had it always been there? You couldn’t remember seeing it before, when you arrived in hell. Just him and his smile.
You felt the blush rise from your toes to your ear tips. Both hands came to your face, desperate to hide your existence from the situation.
You remembered that grassy clearing, the tree line. Peaking in and up, you saw the starry sky you spent so many nights moaning into.
“Why-,” your hands balled into fists, “didn’t you tell me?!” You turned to him, face red. You wanted to shove him, to hit him, but your mother taught you better than to lay hands on someone first. You finished fights, not started them.
Alastor smiled down at you, like he always did, “I thought you had no memory of our-,”
You cut off him off at the head, “visits.”
He laughed, “spirited visits.” Was that a pun? You groaned.
“I, I thought it was just make believe.” The gentle touches, the sweet names whispered into your skin, the way you could taste him even after you woke. The blush burned your cheeks.
Now that you knew, now that your eyes fell on him once again with recognition, he felt you’d actually answer him, “How did you die?” 
The question took you by surprise, You thought it was obvious, “I tried to kill a hunter in the woods. Well, I did kill him. But he killed me, too.”
A genuine grin spread across his lips, a cackle, “You killed a man?!” You shouldn’t have been so proud, but he looked so impressed, “Tell me every detail. Who was he to you?” Alastor’s hands came to your arms. You remembered last night, pulse quickening, and walked to his bed. You took a seat on the end, sinking softly into the plush blankets. Your hand ran over the fabric. 
“My employee’s father.” The fabric was soft, the threads tiny and tight.
Alastor took a seat beside you, legs crossed, “Oh? And why him?”
A hum, “He was a bad man.”
His hand picked up yours, bringing it to his mouth. There was that loss of blood to his brain, something you effortlessly did to him. “Who says?” His own heart picking up pace. You killed. Was it egotistical to think you inspired such a thing? Did you kill for him?
You watched your fingers tremble under his lips, “What?”
“Who says he was bad?”
Your eyes searched the room for an answer, “I think anyone would agree with me.”
His smile reached his eyes, “So you decided? He probably thought he was quite alright.” He turned your wrist over, mouth pressing to your pulse point. “Did you plan it?” Your scent was familiar but different now. Skin still just as soft. He felt himself salivate. Your spell just as strong in death. 
A gulp, all of those walls you struggled to keep standing turned to dust against his smirk. A stranger, a lover. Effortlessly your body shifted into a new gear under his touch. “Yeah, for a week. I waited until I knew he was going to be there. Walked the paths, bought a knife.”
“A knife,” he practically purred, “A favorite. No gun?” He pulled your arm toward him, bringing your whole body into his.
“I wanted something more… personal.”
Alastor buckled slightly, cock jumping in his lap. “You were made to be my undoing. I am sure of it. A cruel joke from heaven to distract me.” His mouth found your neck next, little nips before he chose a place and latched, sucking a bruise easily seen by others.
“This is a really fucked conversation, Alastor.” Your body softened, a small sigh coming before you could consider being embarrassed.
“For a ‘fucked’ situation, my dear.” His nose traced along your jaw. “But one you’ll find I quite enjoy.” He placed your hand on his lap. Did he see the face you made? The stupid grin? Your hand squeezed lightly on the length you felt tenting his pants, earning a moan into your cheek. Real. He was real. In your hands, now. No dreams or projection. No fantasies. No little pink toy. “Bear with me, just a little more. You’ll find my … proclivity for such topics quite important for these kinds activities.”
“You’re sick.” You turned, nose to nose smiling still.
He hummed, his own smile spreading, “desperately so.” Your hand gently traced the shape of him through his pants, “Why did you kill him? As opposed to all the other bad men?”
A question you didn’t feel you could answer, “This topic is having the opposite effect on me…” you squeezed him again.
“Fair enough,” he pushed you back onto the bed, leg going over your body to straddle you, “Then tell me how you felt? A compromise.”
How did you feel? When you killed him? “I felt strong.” He repositioned himself between your legs, “I wasn’t scared. I knew I’d succeed or-,”
“Or?” His breathing now a barely strained pant. Say it. Say it and he’ll let himself go completely.
You focused on the canopy of his bed, a red wine color much like his own coat. “Or I’d end up here, with you.” His head fell, forehead resting on your stomach. You looked down to see his antlers larger than before, no longer cute little prongs. “Alastor?”
He wasn’t an idiot. 
Maybe a little roundabout, but you chose him. 
Red dribbled from his chin, mind going foggy as eyes went black. His hands rid you of your clothes with delicate cuts, your body lurched up the bed by wide palms. 
You chose to come back. 
Your hands came down to undo his pants and belt, seeing he probably couldn’t manage himself. As soon as he was free of his clothes, he was rutting into your thigh. “Alastor”, you took his face in both hands, dials flickers to dilated pupils as you got him to focus on you. 
“My little doe.”
You came home.
His head came to rest just above yours, wide and sharp antlers just out of reach. His leaking cock finally found your core, Alastor groaning into the blankets to find you already so wet. Your hands gripped his arms, nails breaking skin in anticipation.
Lined up and impatient, he pushed up into you with unmeasured force. You bit onto the flesh of his shoulder, trying to keep yourself from screaming. In those dreamlike visits, he filled you so perfectly, body molding to him. But now, you were stuffed. With one thrust your cervix was bruised and tender. The tiniest pain bled into the eye-rolling pleasure of having him back in you. With heavy breaths he thrust into you with a need you couldn’t ever remember feeling before. He fucked you like he would die without your moans spilling across his chest. 
And it was true, feeling your soft cunt clenching him so tightly was a need more than anything else. A ray of light at the bottom of the Mariana’s trench. Impossible, and undeserved. You were everything he wasn't good enough to have, wasn’t clean enough of conscience to hold. An angel clipping a wing to dip into hell, you killed to sink back into his arms. Even if you didn’t say it, not yet. He could feel it in you. He had left a deeper impression on your soul than perhaps you had his. You weren’t just his by way of a deal, you corrupted yourself to his level.
He looked down at you, your eyes already wet and unfocused, mouth hanging open as every breath turned into rhythmic moans. Your soul a fresh snowfall, your adoration for him a drop of blood. His eyes shut, mind focused on where you and him merged now. Friction pulling him forward to his climax.
Your body was trembling, his lower stomach rubbing against your already swollen clit. That soft button just past your entrance wasn’t just being pressed, it was smashed against your walls with his shaft. His head dragging past it. You wanted to speak, to express how good you felt, but your tongue was frozen in your mouth. Every inhale became a gasp, every exhale was now a moan. You felt his body tighten, thrusts become shallow as his large head refused to stray far from your womb. Silently, your hands tore into his shoulders as you gripped through your orgasm. The muscles in your jaw now locked. Your legs came to wrap around his hips and draw him in, thighs convulsing as his pace didn’t stop for you to recover.
With an unmistakable mating press, his cock buried itself in your pussy. Balls deep suddenly made more sense as a phrase. Your cervix stung as his body forced more room for itself in you. The way your walls spasmed around him felt debauched, your body starved for him. Hungry as he had been. Alastor felt your soft cunt drowning in his seed and he groaned into your hair. Already spilling out, he didn’t even consider unsheathing himself from you.
You struggled to slow your heart rate, vision blocked entirely with his own heaving chest. As he softened in you, so did his form. Body reconfiguring above you, antlers now small and uncharacteristically cute.
With regained red eyes, he looked at your face. 
“Are you-,” he sighed, “Asleep.” Not a bad future after all, he mused. Watching you sleep. 
He considered wiping you down before placing you beneath his blanket, but it seemed like such a waste. Your head on his pillow, he felt everything in his chest settle. Like a puzzle whose pieces were all right but just not flush, his own damned soul settled flat. Everything snuggly in place. 
One of his large palms came to rest on your head, a familiar place for him now, “Sleep well, darling doe. I’ll be here when you wake.” 
༻Masterlist༺
∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult: @nonetheartist , fizzled-phoenix , @tsunaki , @janchei , @wettiny-in-smutland , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @fjorjestertealeaf , @pansexual-opera-house , @ive-no-idea-what-to-call-this , @roxxie-wolf , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima , @phobophobular , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @surusurusuru , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum , @ivebeenthearchersstuffn, @rubyninja1
🎞️ TRDFAHS VHS owners: @leathesimp , @alastors-staff, @howabouticallyou , @myrunawaysweets , @karmakillz , @serendipitous-fernweh , @universal-s1ut , @anuttellaa , @sillyb0nez , @nonamevenus , @fairyv-ice , @nitnat6245 , @alicehasdrowned , @alicebaskervilleposts , @jyoongim , @lunaramune , @christinebloodwrittings , @itszzmoon , @thekanrojimitsuri2 ,
@luna-usagi-chan
🏹Alastor stalkers: @celestial-vomit , @amurtan
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lancermylove · 2 months
Text
The Tallest Get Headpats (HC)
Fandom: Twisted Wonderland
Pairing: Malleus, Jack, Floyd, Jade, Sebek, Leona, Vil, Idia, Trey, Rook, Cater, Azul, Silver with gn!Reader.
Warning: None
Prompt: Short reader tries to pat his head.
A/N: Arranged by tallest to shortest for everyone above 175 cm.
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Malleus appeared surprised at first, given that no one had tried to reach for or pat his head, not even Lilia - at least not after Malleus became an adult.
He found your act endearing as it was rare for anyone to show affection towards him.
Smiling gently, he bent down to make it easier for you to pat his head. The prince was more than happy to accept your pats, though he didn't know the reason behind your sweet action. But he wasn't complaining.
Malleus was amused and happy as he studied your sparkling eyes. "(Y/n), you are adorable. I could consume you whole."
Shifting your eyes to Malleus, you looked at him questioningly, to which he laughed.
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Jack tensed up and became uncomfortable as he was not used to displays of affection.
His first instinct was to grab your hand and glare at you, but then he remembered you were his girlfriend/boyfriend. The last thing he wanted was to scare or intimidate you.
When he saw the sparkle in your eyes, he figured it was your way to show affection. So, Jack bent down to your height and smiled, letting you pat his head.
As long as you don't try to grab or touch his ears, he will let you pat his head as much as you like.
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Floyd looked at you with scrunched eyebrows as you jumped up and down with your arm stretched up. What were you trying to do?
Without warning, he grabbed you by the waist and lifted you up, making you squeal in surprise. But he helped you reach your goal, and you took that to your advantage and patted his head.
His confusion turned into amusement as he laughed. "Shrimpy, all you had to do was tell me you wanted to pat my head."
After he put you back on the ground, Floyd pinched your cheeks and harmlessly teased you about your height. "If you're gonna do that again, I will charge you for it by stealing kisses from you."
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Jade observed your efforts to reach his head with an amused and curious expression. He didn't know what he did or said to where it pushed you to want to pat his head.
Seeing that the two of you were alone, Jade removed his hat and bent down to your height. He watched you with a soft smile as you enjoyed a rare moment of vulnerability and openness.
Once you were satisfied, Jade tenderly pressed his lips to your forehead. "I feel the need to borrow Floyd's words. I wish to consist you as you are too cute to resist."
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Sebek was lecturing someone for stepping out of line, and once he was done, he turned to face you. He was surprised to see you standing on a chair and was about to yell at you to get down.
But when you touched his head, Sebek became silent. He was flustered and confused as he was not accustomed to such personal and sweet gestures.
Averting his eyes, Sebek tried to think of something to say to you. He didn't think yelling at you to back away would be a good idea; your head pat was a gesture of admiration for him, so he didn't want to scare you.
Once you stopped, Sebek awkwardly reached his hand to your head and gave you slightly but unintentionally rough head pats. He didn't know what else he was supposed to do.
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The lion watched you struggle for a moment before you left and returned with a stepping stool. He was confused and amused, wondering what you planned to do.
When your hand touched his head, Leona stiffened and raised an eyebrow, giving you a questioning look.
He grumbled something about you trying to invade his personal space and trying to touch his ears without his permission. But deep down, he secretly appreciated the affectionate gesture.
"Herbivore, don't think you'll get away with it the next time." Though he warned you to never do that again, Leona secretly hoped you would pat his head again.
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As soon as he removed his crown and let his hair down, you stepped up on his vanity mirror's stool. Vil noticed you in the reflection of the mirror and was about to ask you to get down, but then you patted his head.
Vil was surprised and taken aback, given that no one dared to invade his personal space, especially not in this manner.
Though he wasn't happy about his hair being touched, Vil found your way of showing his affection unique and cute.
His eyes remained soft, but his voice was stern. "Keep your back and shoulders straight. Your head pats are slightly rough and will damage my hair, so lighten your touch."
As he watched you follow his instructions without protest, Vil chuckled to himself. You were truly adorable.
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He heard you sneaking up behind him as he examined Ortho's new armor parts but didn't think much of it. Until he heard something like constant jumping.
Turning around, Idia saw you motion him to bend down. Without thinking much, he gave in to your request. But when you patted his head, Idia squealed slightly and backed away. He was not used to physical contact and definitely not used to direct displays of affection.
You still didn't give up and got close to him with a warm smile. Idia followed your hand to his hair and watched you pat it gently.
Though frozen in place, he couldn't deny that your gesture made him feel warm and fuzzy.
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As soon as he saw you jumping up with your hand stretched up, Trey knew what you were trying to do. His younger sibling had tried the same thing on him various times.
With a smile, he bent down, let you remove his hat, and pat his head until you were satisfied.
In return, he placed his hand on your head, and you expected him to give you head pats; instead, he tussled your hair, ruining your hairstyle.
When you protested, Trey laughed. "You still look cute, so why are you upset?"
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Rook studied you briefly but directly asked what you were trying to do. When you told him you wanted to pat his head, he removed his hat and graciously bowed.
Giggling, you gave him a few head pats. But once you were done, Rook spoke loudly, startling you. "Mon coeur!"
With a chivalrous demeanor, the hunter got down on one knee and took your hand. He pressed his lips to the back of your hand.
His eyes sparkled as he flashed you a so-in-love smile. "Mon/Ma chéri(e), your endearing gesture had awakened my dormant heart. From this moment forth, mon coeur est à toi!"
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Silver curiously watched you getting onto the garden's low retention wall. But he quickly hurried close to you when you stood up on it because he didn't want you to lose your balance and hurt yourself.
However, he didn't expect you to pat his head. For a moment, he stared at you, surprised, but soon, a gentle smile tugged on his lips.
He might not have said anything, but Silver appreciated your sweet gesture. As you patted his head, he stood still, enjoying the warmth and comfort your gesture brought to his heart.
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Cater was surprised when you reached for his head and patted it in the middle of the conversation. He didn't know what he did to deserve a head pat, but Cater was happy. Out of habit, he took out his phone and snapped a selfie, capturing the moment permanently.
He pinched your cheeks. "You are too cute."
Without warning, Cater picked you up and spun you around, laughing with you. When he put you down, Cater brought his face down to your height and placed your hand on top of his head again.
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Azul noticed you watching him like a hawk as he moved around his office. He wasn't sure why you were looking at him that way but didn't think much of it.
When he sat down, he saw you spring up from your seat and hurry towards him. Although, Azul never expected you wanted to pat his head.
Initially, he was surprised and tensed up but quickly regained his composure. He analyzed your intentions and wondered why you were showing his affection out of nowhere. But Azul was unable to find anything that was out of place.
The octopus sighed and chuckled as he shrugged and let you pat his head. It was just another step to deepening his connection with you, so Azul accepted your head pats quietly.
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➣ Twisted Wonderland [1][2] ➣ Main Masterlist
➣ Buy me a Ko-fi? ➣ Commission: Open ➣ HC/Scenario Requests: Closed || Quick Ask Requests: Closed || GIF Requests: Closed
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theemporium · 4 months
Text
and to the poll voters who i thought i cheated you out of these two idiots, here they are!!
series masterlist
.
“You know I love you, right?”
Max lifted his head when you stopped right in front of him. He raised his brows, leaning back in his seat on the couch as he took you in. You looked serious, which was only slightly unsettling, as you stood with your hands on your hips.
“Yes?” He said eventually, though it came out more like a question.
“And I only want what’s best for you. You know that, right?”
He frowned a little. “Yes. Although stressing me out with whatever you are going to say next doesn’t feel like it’s best for me…” 
“Okay, good. As long as you remember those things in a few minutes when you’re cursing me out,” you said with a nod, ignoring the discombobulated look on your husband’s face before you let out a sharp whistle. 
Max’s frown deepened. “What’s—”
However, he was promptly cut off when the door swung open and all three Leclerc brothers made their way into the flat. Max barely had a chance to acknowledge them before they were grabbing him—two on his legs and one on his arms—and carrying him out the house. 
“What the fuck?! Let me down!” 
“I’m sorry, baby!” You called out as you followed the four of them out of the house. “But this fear of the dentist can’t keep getting in the way of your health!”
Max’s struggles seemed to quicken at the mention of the dentist. “Baby—”
“Max, you know it’s for the best.”
And it was. He knew that. He knew that the second he was outside of the dental practice, there was little else he could do. But he would put on a great damn struggle until then, on the off chance he could escape and top up on the painkillers he had been having over the last week to numb the pain in his mouth.
“Do you think he will be mad at me?”
“He could never be mad at you,” Lorenzo assured you as he tugged you into his side. “You were doing what’s best for him. He knows that.”
“What if I broke his trust doing this and he never forgives me?” You continued, letting out a shaky breath. “He was just in so much pain and I couldn’t just sit there—”
“The man worships the ground you walk on,” Arthur pointed out. “He couldn’t even give you the silent treatment for longer than five minutes the last time he tried.”
But his words didn’t ease the tightness in your chest. “But what if—”
“He’s not going to break up with you over this,” Charles spoke up, a sincere understanding glimmering in his eyes that your other two brothers lacked. “He loves you far too much for that.” 
You nodded, opening your mouth to say something else but a voice interrupted. 
“Mrs Verstappen?”
You barely glanced back at your brothers as you followed the nurse through the dental practice. You nodded as you listened intently, taking in everything she said about how to best treat Max at home with painkillers and the healing process in general. 
You were about to ask a few more questions when you heard a familiar voice that made your stomach flip.
“WHERE’S MY WIFE? I WANT MY WIFE! BABY? WHERE ARE YOU?” 
Your cheeks burned as you shot the nurse an apologetic look before quickly rushing into the room, making your way towards Max as you tried to quieten him down. However, the second he noticed you, his face instantly lit up and he had little care in the world for anything else.
“Where have you been?” The words were muffled and slightly slurred, but the slight lisp made your smile widen. 
“Waiting for you,” you assured him as you took his hand, raising it to your lips to place a quick kiss on the back of his hand.
He stared at you blankly. “That’s not my lips.”
You snorted. “Your mouth is a bit too busy right now for me to kiss.”
Max frowned before he turned to the dentist. “Take these out right now! My wife won’t kiss me!”
Your eyes widened. “Max!” 
“No, I want kisses from my wife!” Max said, shaking his head before he tried to reach out and pull the gauze out himself.
“Looks like you’re gonna have a handful with him,” a nurse teased as she watched you grab both of his hands before he could rip his stitches open in his mouth.
You smiled. “Yeah but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“Because she loves me!” Max added. 
“I do.”
“Soooooo much!”
“That is also true.”
“She loves me so much that she even lets me—”
“Okay, that’s enough talking, babe!”
.
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eddiesxangel · 4 months
Note
Could you do a smutty Eddie Munson fic where he’s your older brother’s bsf?
maybe reader has had a crush on Eddie for a while and when she finally decides to move on and date someone Eddie gets jealous?
What Eddie Doesn’t Know | Eddie x f!reader
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AN: I hope you enjoy it! Sorry it took a while to complete. Thank you for the request; I haven’t been inspired by anything non-Christmas-themed in a while. I was literally barking at the trope.
wc: 7.1k oops
Cw: f!reader, reader is 19 and in collage and Eddie is 22 and a full time mechanic, reader goes by a nickname, jealous Eddie, jealous reader, angst, cheating (on the reader but not by Eddie), smut (pet names, oral, dirty talk, p in v), the fluffy ending!
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Pathetic. That was how you felt at this moment in time. Here you were at your college homecoming party, and all you could do was be a wallflower, watching in self-pity as the love of your life. ( who doesn’t know is the love of your life) is pressed up on some girl in the back of the room.
"What are you doin' here, Tink?" you pop out of your daze to see your older brother, Adam, addressing you.
Did your parents name you Tink? No. Were you so obsessed with Peter Pan as a child you demanded to go by Tinkerbell? Yes. The nickname kinds just stuck.
"I go here?" You sass him back.
"This party is for upperclassmen only. How did you get in?" Adam was only three years older.
"Eddie's here, and he doesn't even attend school..." You gave him a pointed look.
"Yeah, cuz he is my best friend... like I said, how did you get in?"
"It's a house party, not Studio 54... I walked in."
"I'm going to kill Cory," He mumbled under his breath. Cory was supposed to be manning the door.
"Yeah, you should definitely get better security, all I had to do was let him feel up my tits, and we walked right on in..."
The Neanderthal didn't actually touch you, but the look on Adam's face when you let Adam believe he did? Priceless. You only lied so Adam would leave you alone.
What actually happened was you, Nancy, and Robin scaled the fence and got in through the back door.
"Cory!" Before you knew it, Adam was out of your hair, and you were back to being a wallflower….
"Tink there you are! You wanna continue to mope in the corner, or do you wanna get out of here?" your two best friends/roomies, Robin and her girlfriend Nancy, approach you.
"I guess let's just go." you sigh.
You can no longer bear the sight of Eddie, the boy you've been crushing on since the sixth grade, and your older brother’s best friend, leading the random girl up the stairs hand in hand.
Your stomach lurched at the thought of her hands running all over his body, how he would be on her, kissing her... inside of her. He didn't even know you were here... You should have gone up to him, maybe said hello. Perhaps he would have seen the ridiculous amount of effort you put into your ensemble just to catch his eye. But your efforts were lacking because, to him, you're always going to be Adam's annoying little sister.
You knew you had to get over this, but how could you? He has been in your life for fifteen years and always will be. Adam and Eddie have been friends for as long as you can remember. Your brother stuck by him throughout Eddie's family struggles. Your parents even took him in for a few weeks before CPS found his uncle took over full custody. He was basically your big brother, too, until your pesky teenage hormones started to kick in, and boom! You've been head over heels ever since.
''Good, let's get some greasy burgers and fries to end the night, ok?" Robin smiled.
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In the 24-hour diner on campus, you were sitting at your regular booth with the girls across from you, eating your feelings, trying not to think about what Eddie was doing with that girl.
"So that party was a bust, huh?" Nancy spoke first.
"Yeah, totally... probably because Adam's house hosted." You giggled.
"Not to mention Eddie still didn't see you -OUCH." Robin looked over at Nancy, who was giving her a look of distaste. "Sorry, I meant he is an idiot, and you need to get over him! There are plenty of eligible guys on campus who you could date!"
"Even though my girlfriend is being is harsh, she is right, Tink. It's been so long, and you'll kill yourself over this if you keep this up."
"Ugh, I know! Do you think I'm a masochist or something? I hate to break it to you, but I do not enjoy this. I hate it. I hate that he is the one I think about every day when I wake up. I hate it when I go to sleep; he is the last person on my mind. He takes over my thoughts, and I don't know how to stop it!" You shove a fry into your mouth so you can take a breather.
"What if we found you a new guy? Someone to take your mind off Eddie?" Nancy perked up at her idea.
You heard the diner doorbells chime from behind you.
"I don't know..." Putting all your time and energy into someone new seemed like a lot of emotional work you wanted to avoid going through.
"Yes! Oh my god, Tink, you have to. It's the only way you'll get over him!"
"Get over who?" The silky, sweet voice of a male came from behind you.
You and the girls froze as Eddie, your brother, and a few other guys approached the table.
"No one." You mumbled, trying to fight off the blood rushing across your chest and cheeks.
"You can tell us, Tink! Who are we fighting?" Eddie laughed.
"Tink? What kind of stupid name is that?" one of Adam's jerk friends spoke.
"Excuse me?" you turn to see the guy you've never met.
You heard Adam burst out laughing with the rest of them, but not Eddie.
"Hey man, not cool!" Eddie stood up for you.
And there went the butterflies in your stomach. Eddie was always your protector. Even as kids, when Adam picked on you, he always stood up for you. Even if you weren't around, Eddie always put Adam in his place when it came to you.
You saw, out of the corner of your eye, Eddie shifted his weight down so he could sit beside you. Then, you felt a protective arm wrap around your shoulder.
Fuck. This shit right here is why you can never get over Eddie Munson.
You dared to look up; there he was in all his glory. The way the fluorescent light from above had cast down on him made him look like an angel. He smiled at you, but not before you noticed the dishevelled sex hair he tried to fix and the small amount of pink lipstick that stained the skin on his neck that he didn't quite get off. And the smell… sickly sweet perfume that was definitely not his signature musk.
You quickly turn your head back to your plate because you think you're about to puke up everything you just ingested…
"You, if you don't leave us alone." Robin piped up. She saw the look of pure disappointment in your eyes. You didn't need Eddie to rub in the fact that he hooked up with someone, especially since now he is smelling like a cheap hooker.
Robin and Nancy thought it was incredibly rude of your brother to flaunt Eddie in front of you like this. Of course, he knew your mega super infinity crush on his best friend. Yet here he is with his drunk-ass buddies, antagonizing you about the guy you needed to get over.
"Woah, Birdie, take it easy; we are just saying hello," Adam chimed in.
“You said hello at the party. Now leave!” You gritted through your teeth.
“You were at the party?” Eddie asked. His voice hitched high. High enough, it was embarrassingly so. Thankfully, his friends were too drunk and hungry to realize. A deep blush crossed his face when he saw you noticed the tone in his voice change. You just have a slight nod and continue to play with the food on your plate.
That’s why you were so dressed up. Eddie thought you looked so pretty, too pretty to be sad about some looser in a diner at one in the morning.
"Do we have a problem here?" A voice none of you recognized came from the booth beside you.
You all look over and see a cute guy with blonde hair and blue eyes wearing your school's rugby jersey. He was so not your type, but you can still admire beauty for what it is. He was a jock; that was clear as he stood up. He was big, more significant than your brother and Eddie, that's for sure.
"Nah, man, it's cool. This is my little sister and her friends." Adam slurs. Clearly, he had more shots since he left you to find Cory.
"I don't care who you are. You're clearly bothering them."
"It's okay, they were just leaving," Nancy said confidently.
"Whatever, let's go, guys," Adam commanded the pac, but Eddie lingered. He didn't like this blondie guy. He didn't like the way he was looking at you.
"Ed, come on!'
Eddie got up and slowly made his way to his friends.
"I'm Jesse," Eddie heard the musclehead speak, and he cringed internally. Something wasn't right. The feelings of anger and protectiveness were filling his mind.
Eddie looked back again and saw you smelling at the stranger as he reached out to shake your hand before sitting beside you.
What kind of freak is alone in a diner at 1:15 am? Eddie thought.
But it didn't seem to phase you or the girls; you were all blinded by his shiny hair and pearly white smile.
Eddie walked out and felt like he wanted to punch something. He needed to get away. He needed to know what the fuck was wrong with him? Why was he feeling this way? Why were you the one causing him distress? You were just Tink? Or so Eddie thought.
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Jesse turned out to be really cool. You exchanged numbers, and he asked you to go to the movies next Friday. You hadn’t been on a date in forever; you had been so hung up on Eddie that any other guy seemed uninteresting. But this time, you were determined that Jesse would be the one to break the cycle. He was much different than you’re generally into, but you have some of the same interests, like movies and music, so you thought you’d go for it.
Jesse picked you up, bought the tickets, and insisted on buying the snacks and drinks. He held your hand and then slowly made his way to wrap his arm around your shoulder. It gave you butterflies you hadn’t felt from anyone else. Before you knew it, you willingly leaned in to make out with him in the back of the theatre.
You were so focused on Jesse that you didn’t notice Eddie was also on a date in the same theatre. But Eddie noticed you. He was seething the whole time. He didn’t pay any attention to his date or the movie. He hogged the popcorn and munched away as he watched you giggle and flirt with the blockhead jock. Eddie didn’t care that he had pissed off his date. He hardly said two words to her when they parted ways, not even offering to drive her home.
He didn’t want to go out with her but had hooked up with her at the party and felt terrible about it then. Now, he can’t even remember her name or why he went upstairs with her in the first place.
You were there, at the party, but he didn’t see you. Now he sees you everywhere, and it’s pissing him off. Why were you on his mind all of the time? For the past week, why have his dreams been consumed by you and you alone? Why did he want to hold you, be with you, talk to you, dare he say… kiss you? You were Adam’s little sister. Well, not so little anymore. You were a late bloomer, but boy, did you bloom.
Eddie hated how the blonde meathead’s hand rested too low on your back. His hands grazed your skirt a little too closely. Eddie wanted to jump the guy, but he couldn’t. He was twice his size. He would be pulverized, and that would be mortifying in front of you. You wouldn’t want him like that anyway, even if he did win in a fight over you!
What the fuck was Eddie thinking? He wasn't… that's the problem. He's now thinking about getting into a physical altercation over you. He isn't able to sleep now without thinking about you. He needed to get his head on straight and quit fucking around. He hoped that if he just focused on the cars at work, this little thing would go away on its own. Maybe he can't remember that he had slipped and hit his head? Yeah, that's it. He hit his head, and now his brain is just confused. He didn't like you like that! This will all go away by tomorrow.
Wrong.
Eddie was plagued with thoughts of you. He caught himself in numerous daydreams about you while doing mindless tuneups and tire changes at the shop. It was getting out of hand; it’s been another week, and he still can’t get you off his mind… Eddie needed to be proactive. The guys were starting to give him shit about it too. They knew he was focused on a girl. They could sense it.
There was another party tonight that Adam mentioned. He will go home and get cleaned up. Then he will go to the party, he will find a nice pretty girl who will let him bury himself inside her, to forget about his thoughts of splitting your open with his cock, and this will all be over.
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You walked into the party hand in hand with Jesse. He was starting to make waves in your life, being only two weeks, but still. He would walk you to your classes and help you study in the library. He would walk you home and kiss you goodbye like the perfect gentleman. He hadn't tried making any advances as of yet. The two of you had only made it to first base. Maybe tonight you would get lucky? You felt ready.
“You want something to drink?” Jesse guided you to the kitchen.
The house was hot and sticky; you were worried about your hair getting frizzy. You worked so hard on it to look good for Jesse. He even complimented it when he picked you up. Forever the gentleman.
“Whatever they have is good.” You smiled up at him.
As the two of you walked into the packed kitchen, you tried to squeeze your way around but got stuck in the crowd. It was much easier for Jesse to get by just with his size alone.
“Excuse me,” you repeated three times, but no one was budging.
“You should be a little bit more assertive,” the voice behind you said. It sent a shiver down your spine.
As you turned, you saw Eddie smirking down at you. He was drunk. You could see that and smell it.
“Hi, Eddie.” You smiled meekly before you felt the weight of Jesse’s arm wrap around you, passing you your drink.
“There you are,” Jesse smiled. "Who's this?"
"That's just Eddie...Eddie, Jesse. Jesse, Eddie." You introduced awkwardly.
Just Eddie. The words stung.
"How do the two of you know each other?" Jesse gestures between the two of you.
"Brothers best friend." You smile.
"That's all I am to you? You wound me, Tink."
The fuck was that supposed to mean?
"Eddie, man! I got us two hotties over by the pool. Let's go!" In comes your obnoxious brother with perfect timing, as always.
"I guess I'll see you around." Eddie sighed.
"Nice meeting you, man." Jesse stuck out his hand.
"Whatever." Eddie brushed him off and left with Adam.
"I'm sorry about him. That was very rude. I don't?- He's usually not like that?"
"It's okay; I can tell a jealous guy when I see one." Jesse shrugged.
You almost spat out your drink. "Jealous?!"
"Oh, it's clear as day, honey."
"No... there is no way. He's never and will never like me... like that." It broke your heart to say that out loud. Your chest felt so heavy as the words came out of your mouth.
As the rest of the night went on, you and Eddie tried avoiding one another like the plague. Those words about him being jealous were swimming around in your head for most of the night, and Eddie was trying to avoid his feelings by being with another girl, but not one stood out to him.
Adam tried getting lucky but struck out when Eddie refused to go with the friend.
"What the fuck is your problem, man? She was like a solid eight out of ten."
"I wasn't into it..." Eddie's eyes found you, and he couldn't break his gaze. You were curled up in the blockhead's lap, sitting by the fire pit, all cozy and giggly. What he would give to have you in his arms like that.
"Oh fuck, not you now." Adam groaned in frustration, seeing where Eddie's googly eyes were directed.
"Huh?" Eddie said absentmindedly, not really paying attention.
"You can't be serious?! That's my little sister, dude; come on!" Adam was always one for the dramatics; that's why he and Edie got on so well.
"Woah, man, I never said anything about your sister."
"Well, it sure is clear by the way you're making heart eyes at her."
"Yeah, right," Eddie scoffed.
"Trust me, dude, it's that same way she looks at you." Adman shook his head. He thought he would be clear of this. That this would never happen, and yet here it is, happening.
"Wait, what? What do you mean?-"
"She's been in love with you since she was twelve... come one like you didn't know?"
"No way, you smoked too much tonight, so something? Maybe my stuff is off?"
"She likes you, dude. Never fucking shuts up about you."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Didn't think it was relevant... I was never going to allow her to be with you! You serious? It's Tink, she's so...ew. You're so above that."
"She's not new," Eddie snapped. He hated how hard Adam had always been on you.
"Whatever, man, too late now. About time she has moved on."
Eddie stood up and walked out of the party without a word. He heard Adam call out, but he ignored him completely. He needed to process what Adam told him. He needed to sober up so he could think clearly. He needed to either make you his or find a way to get over you... and fast.
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That night of the party, you didn't end up getting lucky. You tried making advances, but you inevitably were shot down. He said he didn't want your first time to be when you both had been drinking and in some random bathroom. So you accepted it, even though your horny gremlin was starting to come back to life. But what did happen was he asked you to make it official with him, and you said yes!
Tonight, you had to leave the apartment for your roommate's sake. It was their anniversary, and you told them you could have the place to themselves for a romantic evening. When you told Jesse, your new boyfriend, you needed a place to crash, he offered you his bed. You would go to your classes and then return to his for your first sleeepover as a couple. You were so excited!
Jesse ended class at one in the afternoon that day, and you ended at five, so it worked out perfectly. Luckily enough for you, your professor for your last lecture was ill, so they cancelled class that day. You thought it would be fun to surprise him by showing up early.
When you got to his house, his roommate let you in and said he was in his room with his friend Connor. So when you knocked on the door and walked in a few seconds later, you did not expect to see the two men in bed, naked...
You screamed and covered your eyes, absolutely mortified that you had walked in on them. You were so unbelievably hurt that you had been deceived. Why would he ask you to be exclusive if he was sleeping around?! And on the night when you thought you would get to have sex with your new boyfriend.
You did not give Jesse any time to explain himself as he tried to get out of the tangled sheets and arms of the other man. You heard your name being called out, but you ran out of there like a bat out of hell.
Tears stung your cheeks as the cold autumn air began to settle in. The rumble of the dark clouds was also looking quite ominous.
Just your luck. Of course, you would find your boyfriend in the arms of another man, and of course, the universe would make you walk him in the rain. How poetic.
A crack of thunder rumbled in the distance, and that's when the rain came down in buckets. At least it could cover up your tears. You continued walking, but you couldn't think of a place to go? You could not ruin your roommate's night. There is no way Adam would let you stay in his frat house, not that you would want to anyway, and your friends from the class went home for the weekend. Shit... maybe you could spend the majority of the night in the diner and then just walk home really late once they were defiantly sleeping. But your clothes were soaked and---
“Tink, what’s wrong?” you were snapped out of your thoughts by none other than the man who was the cause of this whole mess.
Eddie rolled down the work van window. He was covered in motor oil and dirty from working all day. His muscles ached, and he badly needed a hot shower, but now all he could focus on was you and why you were upset.
“Leave me alone, Eddie.” He hadn’t ever heard you speak to him like this?
“Tink, come on, it’s a literal thunder storm. Let me take you home.”
“Can’t, girls are having date night… told them to have the place to themselves.” You continued to walk as the chill from the rain was beginning to seep through to your bones. Your teeth betray you as the chatter starts.
“Where were you supposed to be right now?”
“None of your business!”
“Tink, don’t make me pull over!”
“Screw you, Eddie!”
“That’s it.” Eddie parked the car and got out. “You’re coming with me.” Eddie picked you up over his shoulder, and you let out a screech.
“Eddie! Put me down, you caveman!” You screamed. If anyone saw you, it looked like you were being kidnapped and taken into a murder van.
“No, can do Tink. I’m taking you home to warm you up. Then you’re going to tell me what the fuck is going on.” He commanded. And if you weren’t so mad, you’d say you were a little turned on by his voice.
You hear the car door open before he plops you into the passenger seat.
“Get in” he points to your legs hanging out of the car.
“Make me.” you shiver.
“You’re being such a child! Let me help you.”
“Fine!” You swing your legs into the van, and Eddie slams the door closed, making you wince.
The car ride was quiet besides the radio and your chattering teeth. You tried to wrap your arms around yourself, but it was of no help. Your t-shirt and jeans clung to you like a second skin, and the car heater was only blowing cool air. You swore you thought your nipples could cut glass.
Eddie said nothing as he tugged you over on the bench seat and wrapped a warm arm around you. You broke out into another chill, but this time, you weren't sure if it was from the rain or from Eddie.
Even though Eddie was self-conscious of smelling like motor oil and body odour, he was more worried about you catching hypothermia.
Once you were inside Eddie's warm apartment, he noticed how your body was on display. You would be the clear winner if you were in a wet t-shirt contest, that's for sure. Eddi's eyes were wide with desire, but he returned to reality when you asked if you could use his shower to warm up.
Eddie nodded absentmindedly as he thought about you being naked in his shower.
"Uh, you mind if I borrow a towel and some dry clothes? I have mine, but they got soaked through my overnight bag..."
"Yeah! Uh- I mean, sure, yeah, whatever..."
You blushed slightly at Eddie, trying to play it cool. He ran to his bedroom and returned with a handful of different fabrics. You took them and then headed into the bathroom.
The hot water defrosted your bones, and when you stepped into Eddie's clothes, his sent hit you like a tidal wave. You brought the old black corroded coffin band tee that he had from high school up to your nose and inhaled deeply. You felt immediate comfort being here, with Eddie, wearing his clothes.
As you stepped out of the bathroom, hair wrapped in the towel, Eddie couldn't help but smile at the sight of you.
"Not a word," you warn.
Eddie mock zipped his lips, then gestured to the couch for you to sit beside him.
"Sorry about being a pain earlier; you caught me at a really, really bad time."
"It's okay, Tink, you're here with me now; that's all that matters." Eddie let the towel around your head fall back so he could see your natural hair. "You wanna tell me what happened? I've never seen you so upset."
"You shook your head no, "It's too embarrassing."
"Come on, it's me we are talking about here."
You paused for a deep breath and decided to just lay it all out on the table... how much worse could it get, right?
“You remember Jesse, right?” Eddie could feel his fist tightening, but he said nothing while nodding his head with a tight lip. What the fuck did he do to you? “Well, he asked me to be his girlfriends no less than a week ago, and I was supposed to spend the night at his place… but I went over early and found him in bed with… someone.” Eddie went to say something but realized you weren’t finished and let you continue.
“Pathetic, isn’t it?! I finally get a boyfriend, and the moment I want to actually sleep with someone who isn’t you, they are in the arms of someone else! Am I really that undesirable?! I was practically throwing myself at him, and it turns out he was fucking his “friend” the whole time.”
You had missed your slip-up, but Eddie hadn't. Eddie didn’t hear anything after “I want to sleep with someone who isn’t you,”
So Adam was right…
“Eddie? Eddddiiieee?” You snapped your fingers in front of his face to try and get back his attention.
Great, so now you’re undesirable AND boring.
“Sorry what?”
“Forget it… you don’t wanna hear about my pitty party. I’ll call a cab and head back to… oh shit, I can’t even go home!”
“Stay here.”
“Eddie, I couldn’t possibly-”
“Yes. Stay. Take my bed; I’ll take the couch.”
“Eddie, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Why not, Tink?” He brushed a fallen piece of hair behind your ear, and those pesky butterflies erupted within your core.
“Because…” because I’m in love with you and don’t know if I can hold back my feelings any longer.
“Exactly, you can’t come up with one. Let me take care of you.” Eddie’s voice dropped an octave.
A chill travelled down your spine. His touch is electric. Any time you’re with Eddie, your body feels like it’s been recharged.
As you gaze into Eddie’s eyes, this undeniable magnetic pull connects you. Was he leaning in? Or were you? Maybe it was the both of you? There was little to no space between you. Never in a million years did you think you would be sitting here, alone with Eddie in his apartment.
“I should get cleaned up,” Eddie whispered. He was so close you could taste the spearmint Nicorette gum he had been chewing. It took everything in his power to pull away. He wanted to kiss you so very badly, but he got a whiff of himself, and he needed to wash up. I would be unfair to you.
“Oh, okay,” you breathed in, and Eddie slid back.
“You can make yourself at home, okay? Help yourself to anything in the kitchen. I’ll be 10 minutes.”
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Eddie was freaking out in the shower, and you were freaking out in the kitchen. While Eddie scrubbed his skin so hard he thought he would scrub it off completely, you went to the fridge to find anything to help calm your nerves.
There wasn’t anything in the fridge, but the freezer, on the other hand... Bingo. You poured yourself a shot of vodka and almost threw up, but you held it together with a chaser of orange juice. You took one more for good measure and then made your way back to the couch. As you waited for your liquid courage to kick in, you flicked around on the TV but didn’t really pay much attention. Your thoughts were swimming with questions and possible scenarios that could play out this evening.
You were taken away from your inner thoughts when Eddie exited the bathroom with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. You tried not to make it obvious, but the alcohol clouded your awareness of your face.
“Sorry, I left my clothes in the bedroom” he saw you eye fucking him and gave a little smirk.
“It’s okay. Totally okay.” you sighed.
The sight of his wet, bare torso makes your heart race, his flesh covered in goosebumps, his nipples perked, and his hair soaked yet still so sexy. Your stomach simultaneously flip-flopped. And as for your pussy… well, she got a little excited at the heavenly sight in front of you.
“Yeah,” You wanna see more, Tink? Eddie thought to himself.
“Yeah.” You sighed before he disappeared into his bedroom.
Minutes later, Eddie returned, and the two of you acted as if nothing happened. Neither of you willing to break the tension first. So you both sat silently, watching some random TV movie while you prayed to come up with something to discuss. You wanted to talk so badly with him.
“This couch is pretty lumpy; it wouldn’t be fair to make you sleep on it.” You felt terrible that he offered his bed. “I’ll take the couch.”
“Nope. No way.” Eddie shook his head.
“Eddie.” You huffed.
“Tink,” he mocked back.
“You need a good sleep! You work a strenuous job…And my back can take it.”
I bet your back could take it, Eddie thought.
“You calling me old, sweetheart?”
Sweetheart, your stomach did a flip-flop again.
“No.” You snicker at his accusation.
“I don’t think I believe you” Eddie’s tone dropped again.
“Well, I’m not letting up”
“Neither am I; you’re sleeping in my bed whether I’m on it or not.
“Oh...”
“Yeah, oh.” Eddie sat back and the both of you finished the movie in silence.
You didn’t know when you fell asleep, but Eddie shook your shoulder awake.
“Come on Tinkerbell we are going to bed.” You think you hear Eddie whisper.
Were you dreaming? Did Eddie just tell you the two of you were going to bed?
“Mmm?”
“I’m not letting you sleep on the couch, remember? Don’t think you’re getting out of this so easily.”
“Okay, Eddie, “ you agreed in your sleepy haze.
You feel his arm wrap under yours as he helps you off the couch.
“There you go.” Eddie coos as he places you down gently.
The moment your head hits the pillow, you’re suddenly wide awake. You’re in Eddie’s bed. Eddie is getting in next to you.
“Figured we would compromise.” He slid next to you but over the covers with a throw blanket.
“Thanks for letting me stay… and giving me a shoulder to cry on.” You cringed with embarrassment at the last part.
“Thanks for letting me stay… and giving me a shoulder to cry on.” You cringed with embarrassment at the last part. “You seem to always be there for me…” you turn to your side to face Eddie.
“I’ll always be there for you, Tink, whether you like it or not…” Eddie also turns so he is facing you.
“Eddie.” Your breath hitched.
“Yes Tink.”
Fuck are you really going to spill your guts to him here and now?
“I… I wanna-need to tell you something.” You close your eyes, not daring to look at him.
“I think I might have an idea.”
“You-what?” Eyes still closed
You feel the bed shift and feel Eddie's warm breath fan your lips.
“Do you trust me?” Eddie whispered.
You aren’t brave enough to speak. So you tentatively nod your head yes.
“Do you trust me, Tink? I need you to say it.” He asked once more.
You slowly opened your eyes and bravely opened your mouth. “Yes, Ed’s, I trust you.”
A slight smile graces Eddie’s before you watch him lean in with a pucker.
Your heart skipped a beat the moment his lips touched yours.
Holy shit.
Eddie Munson was kissing you. Eddie Munson, your older brother's best friend, who you’ve been in love with for seven years, is now kissing you… in his bed… late at night… with no one else around. It was like fireworks were going off. It was everything you ever wanted and more.
It was all you had ever dreamed of, and now he was blowing your expectations out of the water. You had to have more. You needed this to last forever.
Your hands moved up to cup his face. His cheeks were rough with stubble, contrasting his soft plush lips. Eddie shifted closer to you. You could feel his body through the thick blankets that separated the two of you, but you wanted to be closer to him. You threw the blankets and all caution to the wind when you shifted to wrap your legs around him.
Eddie rolled so he was on top of you. To your surprise, you felt his firm cock pressed to your thigh, which made you moan softly.
“Fucking hell, Tink”
“Eddie, please, I need you.”
“Didn’t take you long to beg,” he chuckled darkly.
“Well, it took you long enough to see me.”
Eddie gazed into your eyes like he was looking at you for the first time. Like really seeing you. He muttered your name, your real name, for the first time, and you couldn’t fight the smile that spread across your face before you strained your neck to take his lips once more.
Eddie’s strong hands grazed your waist and settled on your hips, pinning you down to the mattress. His weight is entirely on you now. Your knees hitched up, and you opened your hips more to give him more room.
“Eddie,” you gasped into his mouth. Eddie ground his hips into yours, and you let out another soft moan.
“Tell me what you want.”
“You, it’s always been you.” You confessed.
Eddie didn’t say anything in reply but instead worked his fingers to the waistband of his sweatpants that you dawned.
“This okay?”
“Oh my god, yes,” you rushed. You’ve waited too long for this moment.
“Eager, aren’t we?”
“Don’t be mean,” You shove the pants off your ankles and go for your shirt.
“Wait… let me.” Eddie sat up so you could as well. His hands brushed the hem and slowly pulled the shirt he let you borrow off of you.
He took in your naked frame in front of him.
Shit, you weren’t wearing your panties this whole time? They must have been soaked as well from the rain. Eddie thought.
Eddie saw you shy away as you sat there naked in front of the boy you loved as he took you all in.
It didn’t take long before Eddie’s hands roamed your skin, finding your breasts.
“You’re so soft.” Eddie moaned into your neck as he took in the fact that you now smelled like him. He sent all over you; he was feral. He needed to claim you as his own. How could he be so blind all these years? You were perfect; you were everything he ever wanted.
“Do you like soft?”
“Very much so.”
Eddie melted into you once more as he travelled down your body, kissing and nipping at every inch. You softly moaned when he flicked your nipples with his tongue, and you really moaned when he reached your wet pussy.
How Eddie loved the noises he was pulling from you. He would do anything to make you sing for him.
“You like that baby? You want me to touch you… here?” His index finger grazed your wet slit.
“Yes” you replied quickly, a little too quickly.
“Good, I don’t know what I would have done if you said no.”
You giggled, but it was cut off by the feeling of Eddie’s fingertips grazing your clit.
You’d daydreamed countless times about how his fingers would feel while you watched him while he and your brother jammed in your garage.
He circled your clit before dipping his head down to kiss your lower lips. Reality hit you once again. Eddie was eating you out. Eddie was eating you out like a man starved, in fact. How was he so good at this? Scratch that you didn’t want to know. Your thoughts slowed down as Eddie’s thick fingers entered your wet hole.
“Eddie!” You yelled with pleasure.
“Oh yes, sweetheart, say my name.”
“Eddie, Eddie, Eddie,” you replayed like a mantra.
As his fingers grazed that spot that only you managed to find when you were alone in your bed, exploring your body. You fell apart in his hands.
“Your pussy grips me so good, god I can’t wait to fuck you.”
“Please, Eddie,” you begged in your blissed-out daze.
“Let me hear it again,” he smirked.
“I need you, please. I want your cock so badly."
“Mmmmmm, as you wish.” he pulled back so he could strip. You watched as his tight muscles flexed as he pulled off his shirt, then scrunched as he bent over to take off his bottoms.
His cock sprung out of their confines, and your breath hitched for what you thought was at least the fourth time that night.
You’ve imagined what it would look like, but none of the times ever did you imagine he was this hung. No wonder he was so confident and cocky around women. It was long, thick, and straight. No curvatures, just pure rod.
“I don’t think that’s going to fit,” you blurt out, not thinking.
“Don’t worry, Baby. It’ll fit.” he slunk back down on you, peppering your lips with more sensual kisses. His fingers travelled down to your pussy, stretching you out again, only this time, he used 3 fingers to make sure you were nice and ready.
“Please, I’m ready” You ground your pussy into Eddie’s hand.
Eddie reached over into his drawer, pulled out a condom, and slipped it over his shaft as quickly as possible. Seemed that he was just as eager as you.
Eddie kissed you hard as his cock slipped past your wet folds and inside, splitting you open. The wonderful burn of his cock burying itself inside of you. What could you say? It had been a while, and Eddie was the biggest you’ve ever had.
“Slowly,” you guided Eddie as he rocked his hips, giving you time to adjust.
“God, you’re so tight”
“Mmmphmm”
“Your noises are so pretty.” Eddie tucked a piece of fallen hair behind your ear.
Eddie took your breath away as he looked into your eyes. He was being so soft and gentle with you as if you could break.
“Eddie, please.”
“I got you, Princess”
Eddie rocked his hips with more emphasis; his body was moulding into yours. As his cock grazed your tight walls, you felt your body was brought to life.
“Oh fuck” your words slipped, not even realizing you were speaking.
“Come’on baby, let me hear you”
“You’re making me feel so good, Eddie!”
“More, tell me who you belong to.”
“ You! always been you, Eddie, please, I wanna come. Please make me cum on your cock.”
“Good girl. You’re being so good, f’me” Eddie's hips slapped into the backs of your thighs, and he plummeted into you, making you cry out in pleasure.
Eddie grabbed the backs of your knees and pushed them back to your shoulders, only making the angle more delicious as he fucked you. He watched as his cock disappeared into your wanton pussy. He watched as you clenched down on his cock, and he almost lost it as he tried not to cum right then and there.
“Fuck me, Tink! Your pussy is too good,” he gritted through his teeth, trying to keep the pace without blowing his load.
“Eddie!” Your body was on fire as his cock continuously hit your g spot. Your lower belly tingled as the feeling of your orgasm built up again.
“You close, baby?”
“Yes”
“Cum for me.”
“More, I need more.”
Eddie slipped his hand between you and gently circled your clit once again.
You moan, cockdrunk as your body begins to spasm around Eddie’s cock.
“Yes, that’s it, come on baby. Keep cuming. That’s my girl.”
Your eyes roll back into your head, and you clamp your jaw. Every muscle tightens and clenches as your second orgasm rips through you.
“Good girl. Good fuckin girl.” Eddie praises as he empties himself into the condom.
After a few moments of the two of you catching your breath and Eddie discarding the used condom, you break the silence.
“I can’t believe we just did that,” you chuckled in disbelief.
“Adam is going to kill me,” Eddie laughed.
“Good, I’ve been meaning to get him back. You roll over to snuggle in his arms.
“And to think you were supposed to be in another man’s bed tonight.” Eddie hated that idea.
“At least I ended up in the right man’s bed.”
Tagging those who seemed interested: @lofaewrites @lavendermunson @imyourdaninow @itsfreakingbats @allthingsjoeq
2K notes · View notes
iateyourparents · 4 months
Note
hello! could you write johnnie guilbert fluff? maybe a scenario where him and fem!reader are spending a day together (filming a video, doing random stuff) just being two people in love and jake and tara tease them and call them a married couple
deaf, mute and blind | j.g.
pairing: johnnie guilbert x fem!reader
summary: you, johnnie and jake are recording a new challenge video.
warnings: use of y/n, bad writing and grammar(i’m sorry but english isn’t my first language)
an: hi, thank you <33 hope you like it!
pictures are from pinterest :)
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“Hi guys, it’s me, Tara, and today I’m here with Jake, y/n and Johnnie.” Tara introduced you and you all waved to the camera.
“Hi!” you greeted her viewers.
“Today I’m gonna torture my guests… No, but I wish.” she pouted and you all laughed “Today, my guests will be playing into deaf, mute and blind but…they will have many challenges and quests to do throughout the day. But they main goal is to do shopping and bake me cookies! Any words guys?”
“I hope I get deaf, cause I don’t think I can go much longer with them talking.” you rolled your eyes looking at Jake and your boyfriend.
“Hey!” Johnnie gasped pretending to be offended, placing hand on his chest “That hurt love.”
You only rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide the smile that was forcing its way onto your face.
“Alright, so now they will draw sticks and get to know what senses will be taken from them!” Tara showed her viewers three sticks and then she turned to you “Ladies first.”
You took the one in the middle and immediately looked at written words.
“Yeah! I’m deaf today!” You did a little winning dance. Next one choosing stick was Johnnie and he got mute.
“Oh, so I will be blind.” Jake stated “That’s good actually, at least I don’t have to look at your ugly faces.” he smirked and you laughed.
Tara handed you all your things - blindfold for Jake, duck tape for Johnnie and earphones for you.
“Let me also add, that the person who won’t do the most of their mini challenges, has to take a cold shower on the street!” Tara smiled mischievously.
“Is this enough to charge her with domestic abuse?” Jake asked kind of scared.
When everyone was ready Tara started talking to the camera and you could only guess she was explaining to people what you gonna do and not long later Johnnie took your hand to let you know you were going out. You both helped blindfolded Jake to the car and Tara drove you to the nearest store.
She turned on the camera and pointed it at you and Johnnie. You didn’t see anyone talking so you decided to speak “I think Tara already told you guys but we’re making cookies so now we have to find all of the needed ingredients.” you informed and Tara pointed the camera to Johnnie who was gesturing towards some alley. He took your hand and started dragging you there with Tara going behind you but you suddenly stopped, remembering something.
You quickly turned around and jogged to Jake to walk him to Johnnie and Tara. He said something that made Tara laugh and Johnnie’s arms shudder in a silent laugh.
You really started to regret wanting to be deaf one, because not hearing anything yet seeing it, made you frustrated. Also, not hearing Johnnie made you kinda sad. But atleast you listened to your favorite songs.
You all went to grocery alley where Jake gave you his phone so you and Johnnie could find all ingredients for cookies.
Tara was pointing the camera on you all the time and you decided to speak from time to time in case she and Jake weren’t saying anything.
“So we will be doing chocolate chip cookies. Or rather we will be trying to instruct Jake to do it without hurting himself or poisoning us.” you felt a light push on your shoulder and you laughed seeing how Jake was struggling with trying to not miss your form while hitting.
Johnnie swatted Jake’s hand when he tried to hit your shoulder again and side hugged you while looking for flour.
“Johnnie, we need flour for cakes, this one is for bread.” you told him and he gave you a ‘what the hell’ face and you knew that if he could talk and you hear, he would be asking about the difference.
“Alright, I think we got everything.” you stated when you found everything and you all went to cashier’s stands where everyone was looking at you like at idiots, but that wasn’t anything new with Johnnie and Jake.
Tara quickly paid when it was yours turn and you and Johnnie walked Jake to the car.
When you were at home you quickly started to prepare kitchen for your baking.
Suddenly, you felt someone tugging gently at your arm and you saw Johnnie pointing ahead of you. You saw Tara pointing the camera at you all and you took it as a clue to start talking.
“Alright, so now we will be trying to instruct Jake how to make cookie dough, wish us luck!” you smiled sarcastically.
You somehow were cooperating well, Johnnie was showing you the recipe and you were reading it for Jake who then with your and yours boyfriend help were making most of the work.
When cookies were in the oven you didn’t have anything better to do so you sat on the floor in front of the oven and you were just looking at the cookies.
Some time later Johnnie joined you, sitting next to you and placing his head on your shoulder. You hugged him into your side and he gladly snuggled into you, kissing your shoulder.
You sat there for a few minutes, when Tara came to you with a camera and some bowl and told something to Johnnie and then showed you her phone, where she wrote in the notes that now you will be doing random challenges before you could take the cookies out from the oven. It would decide who is the loser of the video.
You all stood in the living room and Tara came to you with the bowl and you took one piece of paper.
“I’ve got ‘activity without your sense’” you read it for them and viewers out loud and then showed the piece of paper to the camera.
Moment later Tara gave you another paper, which turned out to be an instruction what your activity was.
“So I have to call a random contact and try to have normal conversation with that person. That will be hard.” you sighed “Can Johnnie and Jake help me? Like by gesturing?” You looked at Tara and she only nodded.
You looked at the camera and smiled “I’m actually kinda scared that they will gesturing wrong things and I will make a fool of myself.” you laughed and you could see Tara snorting.
Your challenges were done, it wasn’t that bad or at least you were hoping so.
Then you took the cookies out of the oven and tried them when they weren’t hot. They were really good.
“Teamwork makes a dream work, i guess.” you smiled at the camera.
Then you could finally take off the earphones and you were never as grateful for hearing Jake and Johnnie as now.
“God, it’s so good to hear people again. I missed your voice.” you told Johnnie who smiled widely at you and kissed your cheek.
“I’m glad to see again, but I’m scared of how many bruises I’ve got today.” Jake laughed while still trying to get use to the light in the room.
“Alright guys, they made it.” Tara smiled at the camera “I can’t with how cute y/n and Johnnie were today. Literally goals. You were like and old married couple.” she giggled and you smiled.
“So, who’s the loser?” Jake asked after few minutes.
“You Jake.” You laughed “You didn’t do any of your challenges correctly.”
“That’s true.” Tara smirked “You will do your punishment later.”
You stopped recording for some time so Tara could get all of the needed things for Jake’s punishment, so you and Johnnie went to sit on the couch while hugging.
“I really missed your voice today.” you admitted again quietly.
“And I missed talking to you.” he smiled “And kissing you.” he kissed you.
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redhead1180 · 8 days
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Sunshine
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Pairing - dark!Rafe x pogue fem!reader
Summary - Reader has a crush on JJ, but JJ is dating Kie. Rafe decides he wants reader to get over JJ, no matter her say in the matter.
Words - 3k
Warnings MDNI - NON CON, DUB CON, drugging with E, slapping, physical fight (m vs f), dry humping, alcohol use, drug use, rough sex (p in v), degradation, blackmail, very dark Rafe.
A/N: This is my darkest piece I have ever wrote and of course it's for Rafe. He is mean SOB in this, so if that triggers you, please don't read. Thank you to @haven247 for the beta read. I am nervous about writing this dark, but hope you like it. PLEASE HEAD THE WARNINGS!
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Being at a kook party was not your idea of fun, but they had free booze and it was better than a keggar. After the last week you’ve had, you have every intention of getting plastered and trying to forget your crush and best friend was dating someone else.
JJ your best friend since you were 4 and crush since you were 14, was officially dating Kie. And it hurt, a lot. You knew it was coming, saw the writing on the wall, but held out hope it wouldn’t. The only person who knew about the crush, that you knew of, was John B. He was your brother from another mother, and knew you inside and out. You three had been friends so long, you don’t remember a time when they weren’t there. John B has given you hug and told you he was sorry the day you saw them kissing through the Chateau window. He informed you they were dating and you had gone home and cried yourself to sleep. Avoiding them this past week, but couldn’t get around it for this party.
You had watched them dance, laugh, and make out, and were completely ready to vomit. Or wait, was they alcohol? I was in my 3rd concoction of the night and was not feeling much of anything. Well physically anyway.
Anyway, you were in the kitchen getting another drink, when you heard the last voice, you wanted to here.
“Well, well if it isn’t Miss Sunshine” Rafe Cameron sneered as he walked into the kitchen.
“Fuck off, Cameron” I told him, trying not to say more and start something.
“Anyone ever told you have a venomous mouth, Sunshine” he laughed.
“Only to you, Cameron. Everyone else thinks I am adorable and sweet” my voice dripping with sarcasm.
“I bet you taste sweet” he chuckled. I turned around and caught him looking me up and down. He showed no shame for being caught. “What’s got you drowning in booze tonight? Wouldn’t have anything to do with Maybank and Carrera doing the horizontal mambo, would it?”
“You’re such an asshole, Cameron” You go to walk past him and he grabs your upper arm and pulls close to him.
“Most girls that talk to me the way you do get punished” he leered, inches from my face.
So, side note, when I drink, I think I am ten feet tall and bulletproof. And tonight was no exception.
“Let go of me you fucking psycho!” I hissed at him, pulling my arm. Unfortunately, he was so much stronger than me, my arm barely moved in his grasp. “I swear to God Rafe, I am not in the mood for your bullshit tonight.”
“Don’t call me psycho and I think I need to teach you some manners.” he growled right before he grabbed the back of my neck and pulled me in to kiss him.
I instantly started pushing on him and struggling to get free. I bit his lip and he howled in pain and jerked back. I slapped him across the face, not caring this was Rafe Cameron, Kook Prince himself, and no one ever told him no.
He snapped his head back and I looked in his eyes. They were completely black, no amount of blue left, and had a predatory look that actually caused a little fear to creep up my spine. Something else, God help me, arousal shot through to my core and made me soak my panties.
I started to back away and with each step I took back, he took forward.
“Rafe just fucking walk away, leave me alone” I try to sound defiant and flippant, but not sure I pulled it off. His grin was pure evil, reminding me of every Disney villain I ever watched.
*Oh Sunshine, you really shouldn’t have done that” he smirked. I turn to run and get one of the pogues, but he grabs me by my waist and turns me around to throw me over his shoulder.
“You psychotic motherfucker, put me down!” I yell as I punch his back as hard as I can. He just grunts and slaps my ass hard, bringing tears to my eyes and more arousal to leak out of me. My mind was telling me to fight because you hate him, but my body was yelling at me to let him have his way.
He takes you to some room, locks the door, and proceeds to throw you on the bed. He immediately grabs both your wrists and roughly jerks them above your head, causing you to arch your back from the roughness and your tits rub against his chest. The lace bra you wear offered little protection from the friction and instantly your nipples hardened. Rafe chuckles as his free hand rubs over my breasts and pinches my nipples.
“You may not want this, but your body does” he chuckles as his hand slides down over my stomach and to the waistband of my shorts. I continue to struggle, he slaps my bare thigh, causing me to gasp. I know if I looked down right now, there would be a red hand print.
“You’re a feisty thing, maybe we should get you a little more pliant.” He threatens.
I see him reach in the pocket of his shorts, but don’t see anything in his hand when he pulls it out.
“Rafe, what the fuck are you doing?” I demand trying to keep the worry out of my voice.
“Just a little something to make you enjoy it more.” He smirks as he places a pill on his tongue and grabs my jaw to look at him.
“Open up, Sunshine” he murmurs as leans in to kiss me.
I try to shut my mouth, but the hold he has on my jaw won’t let me. He shoves his tongue in my mouth and I feel the pill begin to dissolve as he devours my mouth. God he is a good kisser, I can’t stop myself as I whine in the kiss, causing him to moan. He held my jaw until the pill was fully dissolved, then he lets go, but we continued to kiss. Fuck, what was I doing, this was Rafe, I should be biting his fucking tongue off, yet I didn’t want the kiss to stop. He finally pulls away when air became a necessity.
“What the fuck did you give me, Rafe?” I pant, still trying to catch my breath from the kiss.
“Aww Sunshine, it’s just a little E to make you forget your troubles and help me fuck you without the feistiness.” He smiles down at me. I start to struggle again and hurt him in some fashion. His hold on my wrists and him between my legs really left me defenseless, and he knew it.
“Now let’s get rid of these clothes.” He grabs the neckline of my shirt and rips it down the middle. I screech from shock, and he continues ripping till it is off me.
“Oh Sunshine, you have some beautiful tits.” He groans as he leans down and latches his lips on one of my nipples. I gasp out from pleasure as he sucks, nibbles and licks my nipples through my bra. Thousands of jolts of delight ripple through my body to my core. I began to feel a zing of energy and mixing that with pleasure, I couldn’t stop myself from grinding my hips up into Rafe.
“That’s it baby, let the drug begin to work. Let me make you feel good and forget Maybank for tonight.” He murmurs as he continues his assault on my tits, his mouth on one and his hand, pulling and pinching the other.
“More” I whimper to him, trying to get more friction. He reached behind me undoing my bra and let go of my wrists, I moved my arms so he can get off. My hands fly into his hair to push more into my chest. He grinds down on me and I groan, I feel the heat build in my stomach.
I have a slight moment of clarity, where I thought what the fuck am I doing, when Rafe rolls his hips and the tip of cock hits the seam in my shorts just right to rub my clit and I see stars. I moan out as I squeeze my eyes shut and let my orgasm wash over me.
“Fuck Sunshine, when was the last time you came?” he chuckles, reaching down to unbutton my shorts and take them off. He stands up, using the opportunity of me in a blissful state, to rid himself of his clothes. I look over to him and see his cock saluting me. My eyes wide at how big he was.
“Shit Rafe, I don’t know what you plan to do with that monstrosity, but it ain’t fitting in me.” I say in wonder.
“I’ll make it fit,” he said as he spread my legs and slapped my pussy. I yelped, still sensitive from my release, but it caused a wildfire to spread through my veins. He slapped it a few more times, rendering me a whiny mess. I tried to hide my face, ashamed at how he was making me feel. I knew the E was mainly to blame, but a part of me knew it wasn’t all the drugs.
“Oh, don’t be shy now” Rafe taunted as he pulled my hands from face and roughly kissing me.
Distracted by his kiss, I didn’t notice he lined his cock up to enter me. He shoved it in my soaked pussy and I screamed in his mouth. The pain and burn from his stretching without prep was almost unbearable. Instantly, tears formed in my eyes and I pulled my mouth free.
“FUCK!” I cried out “Rafe, get out, pull out, it hurts so bad!” I cry but he continues to snap his hips into me, even though I was pushing on his stomach.
“Shut the fuck up and take it.” He growled as he grabbed my arm and jerked it above my head, slamming into me faster. I was whimpering, crying mess underneath him. He continued to pound into me, hitting my cervix, lips taking what they wanted from my lips down to my breasts.
“I’ll have you forgetting Maybank after tonight and you’ll only want my cock in this pussy. You’re mine now, Sunshine” he rasped in my ear.
“I hate you” I hissed at him.
Eventually the pain began to be replaced by pleasure, my cries turning into moans as I felt my core heat up and the band began to tighten.
“You keep saying that, but your body doesn’t,” he taunted “you might be venomous, nonchalant, and a raging bitch to the rest of the world, but all you needed was a Daddy to tame that mouth and this pussy. Didn’t you?”
I ignored him, not wanting to agree with him. Suddenly I heard and then felt the smack across my face. I let out a shocked yelp and grabbed face with my free hand. My body betrayed and a rush of arousal coated his cock.
“Oh, you like being slapped huh? When I ask you a question, you answer it, slut” he hissed at me.
“Yes Daddy” I moaned out, before slapping my hand over my mouth, not believing what I just said.
“That’s my good little slut” he teased.
He let go of my hand and reached down with both hands to push my thighs into my chest. I cried out as the new position hit my G-spot and I saw stars. Within seconds, the band snapped in my stomach and I was screaming daddy repeatedly.
“That’s it, you little cunt, cum all over my cock.” He grunted before pulling out and flipping me over on my stomach. He straddled my thighs, pulled my butt up, and shoved himself back into me. I moaned as the new position let him hit deeper. I grabbed the headboard needing to ground myself, as the drugs and orgasm made me feel like I was floating away.
He wrapped his arm around my neck, putting me in a chokehold, snapping his hips into me at such an ungodly pace. I could already feel another release coming. The drugs had all my senses turned up to an eleven, the burning in my stomach, the tingling in my core, the pleasurable pain every time he hit my cervix. I felt that if I had another orgasm, I would fly off into outer space.
“S’too much, daddy” I whine, trying to push on his stomach. “I can’t do it”
He slapped my hand away and smacked my thigh hard, making me cry out.
“You will take everything I give you. You’re my little cum slut now and you will obey me” he grunted. He grabs my arm and jerks them around behind my back, grabbing both wrists with one hand. With his other hand, he grabs hair and uses both as leverage to fuck me harder.
All you could hear in the room were my ‘uh-uhs’ and our skin slapping together. I was close as my walls begin to flutter around his cock, but he was too as I felt his hips stutter.
“You better cum before me or you’re outta luck,” he panted. “We’re not here for your pleasure, only mine.” He taunts as he speeds up getting closer to his release.
I manage to wrestle one of my hands free and reach down to rub my clit. The added stimulation almost instantly makes me fall over the edge, I scream out and clamp down on Rafe’s dick. My body convulses as I have the strongest release of my life, but the E in my system causes me to keep cumming tears falling down my cheeks as I can’t stop.
“Jesus Fuck” Rafe gasps, “You’re clenching so tight I can barely move.”
He forces his cock in and out of me as he pants and grunts. Slamming into me one more time, I feel his seed shoot out against my walls.
“fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck” he hisses. He slowly thrust back into me a few times before pulling out and flip me over. I was essentially a rag doll by this point.
“Oops can’t have any Daddy’s juices spilling out can we?” he smirks, shoving two fingers in me pushing his cum back in me. I whimpered and grabbed his wrist.
“Stop, too sensitive” I whimper out.
“Stop being a whiny slut” he sneers before slapping my pussy a few times. I cry out, tears running down my cheeks. He reaches for his phone and takes a picture of me.
“What the fuck” I snap.
“I need something to jerk off to when you’re not around”
He shows me the picture. I look royally fucked out, mascara and tears running down my cheeks, lipstick smeared all over my face, bruises and hickeys around my neck and chest. He grabs my phone and tosses it to me.
“Unlock it” he demands.
I do without any argument. He puts his number on and sends himself a text, so that he has my number.
“When I call, I expect you to answer and come to me” he demands coldly. “If you don’t, then the whole island will know your just my cum slut and enjoy it. I have evidence.” he grins.
I nod, knowing he had me, because the thought of the pogues, especially JJ finding out made me sick to my stomach. He tossed my shorts and some tshirt he found to me.
“Now you’re gonna get dressed, go back to the party and act like nothing happened. Your hickeys were from some random touran.” He instructed. “The whole time you pine over JJ, my cum will be seeping out of your cunt. Oh, and clean your face up.”
I move slowly getting off the bed. I get dressed and head to the en suite bathroom. I look at myself in the mirror and start to cry. I splash water on my face, cleaning myself up, the whole-time sobbing.
Rafe comes in the bathroom and stares at me for a minute. I turn to face him and he smacks me on the cheek, not hard enough to bruise, but enough to sting and leave his handprint.
“Stop crying like a cunt,” he mocked me, “You enjoyed it, I think I counted three orgasms from you?”
“It was the drugs” I argue.
“Sure, sure. The explain why you were soaked before I gave you the E?” he asked.
I’m looked away cause I had no answer, at least not one I was willing to admit.
“S’what I thought,” he smirked “Now get downstairs, before I change my mind and take you home, tie you up, and use you all night.”
I ran out of the bedroom and went downstairs, looking for my friends.
Walking around, I finally found John B and Sarah making out in a corner. Pope was in another room trying to woo a girl with coroner talk, the poor girl looked scared for her life. The last room I walked into, JJ and Kie were on a couch, Kie in JJ’s lap making out. My friends, wait no family, didn’t seem to have missed me.
I walked into the kitchen and made me a drink and walked outside to one of the patio chairs. My phone dinged with a message.
Remember our deal and no one finds out. Although with as worried as they were for you, not sure they would seem to care.
I downed my drink and got up to get another one, tears running down my cheeks.
How the fuck did I get in this situation and what was I gonna do. All knew was I hated Rafe Cameron and I would find a way out.
Tagging some moots:
@princessmaybank @echo-at-the-pond @babygorewhore @drudyslut @rafescokewhore @rafesc0kewh0re @starfxkr @blueicequeen19 @drewstarkeyslut @pankowperfection @maybankskiss @ch4rrykisses
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tryslora · 1 month
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On Writing Combat and Sex Scenes
Today I want to talk about writing sex and combat (and no, I do not mean combative sex). This post is inspired by a few recent events:
Once, a long time ago, I read a blog post that said “if you can write a combat scene, you can write a sex scene” and that was mind-blowing for me because while I was well-versed in writing erotica, I couldn’t write combat to save my life.
More recently, at Boskone, I participated on a panel about writing combat, and the research involved there-in.
Even more recently, I had someone look at me say, “You’re not a gay guy. How do you write gay sex scenes?”
So. Let’s begin.
I get it—sex and combat aren’t interchangeable. But at their core, they have some strong similarities which can be leveraged while writing. Both are intense, high drama, and can involve a lot of anxiety and quick thought. Both tend to narrow focus down to the moment and the current feeling and action. Both are heightened emotion and physical reaction. Both can involve actions that lie outside the author’s personal experience.
I started writing erotica when I was a freshman in college. I posted it online (does anyone remember rec.arts.erotica?) and was surprised (and pleased) by the compliments I received. Turned out my readers were not expecting the idea of emotion being entangled in their erotica. They were invested emotionally in how the stories went, and how my characters felt. Since I was writing from the point of view that made sense to me at the time, they were het stories from a female perspective, and they were very focused on the emotional connections and how the physical events heightened those emotions.
Male readers were surprised by the intensity of the feelings that these stories gave them (as opposed to pure arousal). It got me thinking about how I wrote, and why I wrote, and I tried to talk about it some at the time. I was eighteen. I was still a new writer. The internet itself was new. I wasn’t entirely certain how to frame it, but I remember getting one comment where a guy was surprised at how struck he’d been by the moment in the scene where everything shuddered to a halt due to an event in the story that interrupted the action, and I replied that that was because I wasn’t writing about the sex. I was writing about the character’s reaction to the sex.
Which has always been how I write. At the time, that was my only tool: put myself in the character’s mind, and write what they feel. If that’s affection and attraction and physical reaction, write that. Tangle it up, and hope the reader feels that entanglement.
Now, fast forward several years, and take a little side trip onto a tangent wherein I learned something very important about writing craft.
I was reading Syne Mitchell’s End in Fire, I think it was, and I kept having panic attacks. Now, I did most of my reading late, often when I woke in the middle of the night due to stress, or just because my brain refused to rest. I was in a rough place in life in general, with a lot of external work stuff going on and very small children. I wasn’t sleeping well. And it took me some time to figure out why I was struggling to read a book which I actually loved (and when I read it later in life, I enjoyed it greatly).
It was the sentence structure.
In order to induce the emotion of the scene, the sentences were short. Sharp. Quick. There was no time for the reader to breathe, much like there was no time for the heroine to do anything but act. The reader was caught up in the rising tension, to the point where my anxious, sleep-deprived brain, caught a panic attack from it.
The technique was brilliant.
Now back to our original timeline, wherein I read a post about how if you can write combat, you can write sex scenes. This post assumed that more people felt comfortable writing violence than sex. I was the reverse. I’d been writing about sex for over a decade when I saw this post, and it made a light bulb go off in my brain.
If writing sex was like writing combat… was the reverse also true? Could I improve my skills at writing battles by analyzing what worked when I wrote erotica?
So I tried doing just that. Back then, I found combat overwhelming. There was so much going on, and I was trying so hard to write good description that I lost all of the intensity. I was focusing on everything that was going on at the same time.
Thinking about how sex scenes were all intense emotion and narrowed focus, I applied that to my combat scenes. I wrote only what the point of view character experienced, and tied everything to their actions and reactions. I thought about how they breathed, how they moved, how they thought. I used those short, sharp sentences as they processed the scene. 
That doesn’t mean I forgot about everything else going on in the scene. That’s impossible. After all, in any story the things the character doesn’t pay attention to might be as important as the things they do focus on. Stuff still happens, and there is still fallout. I needed to know what else was happening so that if the character moved from one place to another, or did something that put them in the path of a different part of the action, I could have them start processing it.
But it also meant that on the page, out of sight was out of mind. Everything narrowed down to the now. The immediacy. Suddenly my combat scenes snapped into focus.
During the panel at Boskone, all of the panelists had experience with different fighting styles (fencing, street combat, and of course, me with taekwondo). I spoke about how for me, that narrow focus is very real when I spar. I know there are some people who naturally see a move or two ahead while fighting; I don’t. I am stuck in act and react mode. Can I kick them now? Can I attempt a head shot? Oh, no, circle back and away or they’re going to hit me… that’s how my brain works during a sparring match.
It’s not like a total blackout—there should be a vague awareness of things around the character. Sounds in particular, or sometimes flashes of movement. Something distracting can catch the attention of the fighter, but the personal fight will always pull the character back.
Combat feels easy when I’m writing like that.
Of course, there’s still the question of writing about something if I’ve never experienced it. As someone did point out to me: I am not a gay man, so how does that affect writing sex scenes? I’ve also never fought with a sword. Brawled. Fought from horseback. I have, however, held a blade, shot a gun, shot an arrow, rode a horse. I have a vague idea of how these things work, much like I have a working knowledge of sex in general.
So yes, research gets involved. Sometimes research is observational, sometimes it’s reading (there’s so much good stuff out there). I highly recommend video for combat scenes—find things that have the feel that you’re going for, then put yourself in the place of the character you want to write about. Practice. Work through the ideas of how things fit together, and what your character will (and will not!) know during the fight.
If you need to, stand up and block the scene by thinking about how you would experience it. What can you see, and what is out of sight? If someone is coming at you with a blade, what are your options? How do height differences affect you? Yes, I have asked friends and husband to help me block scenes. 
“Stand right there and show me what it looks like if you punch me. Okay, so if I do this then…” Yeah. It’s a thing. But it works.
When doing your research, remember that movie fighting (and hell, movie sex scenes) isn’t realistic. It’s meant to look good. For combat, if you can find re-enactments, or sparring videos, I highly recommend taking a look at those. 
Anyway, the point is: I don’t have to have shot someone, and I don’t have to have had gay sex in order to write about them. What I do need to know is how it feels emotionally to do those things, and I can extrapolate that from what I do know. I need to know enough about the details so I can get it right, and that’s where research will help me. Also, use language to create emotion. Because emotions are where we grab the reader, and how we pull them into the scene.
Combat and sex aren’t so different when it comes to writing, and the personal experience. Now, go forth and write!
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bro-atz · 11 days
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sun's out
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in which: you and seonghwa are on a picnic and, well, one thing leads to another.
pair: idol!bf!seonghwa/afab!gf!reader
word count: 1.5k
content: smut, public sex, unprotected sex (REMEMBER TO WRAP UP IRL!), nicknames (baby), some cockwarming, hwa feeds you strawberries, completely consensual!
rated: R | nsfw — minors do not interact
author's note: "for my beautiful partner of five years, maya" — @juyofans 2024; and @yunhoszn also requested to be tagged so here you are babes; also, if you're not imagining this fit while you read, you're not imagining right jsyk
networks: @atzhouse @cromernet @cultofdionysusnet @newworldnet @wonderlandnet
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Since he had a couple days to spare in between schedules, Seonghwa decided to make up all the lost time with you by taking you out on a picnic. He told you to wear your prettiest outfit and “make yourself look nice for him”— as if he had to tell you, but seeing the words on the screen from him made all sorts of shivers run down your spine. So, you did your makeup and hair all pretty, and you wore the cutest little sundress that you had been saving for a special occasion— a white one with strawberries all over it— and matching strappy heels before taking off.
The second you saw Seonghwa at the location he texted you to meet him at, you nearly foamed at the mouth. He, with his flattering, black tank top, wide cut black jeans, and black cowboy hat, was stunning. He was so stunning, in fact, you feared that if you looked right at him, you would go blind.
“Seonghwa!” you greeted from afar as you broke into a light jog to get to him.
You jumped into Seonghwa’s outstretched arms, the man immediately giggling as he twirled you around.
“Hi, baby,” he sighed into your ear. He set you down and held your hands as his eyes scanned you up and down, the tips of his ears starting to turn red as he said, “Look at you dressed up all nice and pretty for me… You make me so happy, you know that?"
A faint blush rose to your cheeks. Before you could even gather words in your head to respond, Seonghwa kissed your cheek and led you over to a large tree where he had spread out a picnic blanket, glasses, a bottle of wine, and a picnic basket.
The two of you sat down and talked in hushed tones while sipping on the white wine Seonghwa had expertly chose for your little picnic date, the two of you laughing, smiling, and enjoying the company. It had been so long since the two of you were able to experience a normal date instead of having to sneak over to the ATEEZ dorm or him over to your apartment— it was truly refreshing.
“Oh, I almost forgot,” you suddenly said, slightly startling the man. “I brought something for us.”
You went on all fours and reached for your bag— you had put it on one of the corners of the picnic blanket to keep it down— and started rummaging through it. You wanted to take polaroid pictures with your boyfriend, and you specifically set it aside to bring it for your date, but it seemed like you left it at home because it was nowhere inside your bag. You cursed under your breath and continued to rifle through your bag as if you would magically produce the camera, but that was obviously not going to happen.
While you struggled, Seonghwa, who was at first interested in what you brought, had shifted his attention elsewhere. You had crossed over in front of him, giving you a nice view of your chest, and his mouth was practically foaming when he realized you weren’t wearing a bra or pasties or anything. Fuck, he was rock hard, and he needed to do something about it fast.
You sat up and were about to complain to him about the fact that you left the polaroid at home when you took a look at his dazed face, confusing you slightly.
“Hwa? What’s wrong?”
“C’mere, baby,” he uttered, his hands patting his lap. “Sit.”
You shifted towards him, your legs on either side and straddling him before you lowered yourself slowly onto his lap, your clothed cunt immediately pressing against his stiff crotch— and that’s when you realized the situation. Your body started warming up when Seonghwa placed his hands on your thighs, his fingers slowly slipping the dress upwards, his hands beginning to pet your thighs.
“Hwa,” you breathed out as you tried to push his hands away. “Not here—”
“Do you know what you’re doing to me, baby?” he purred, his nose brushing against your ear. “There’s no way I can wait. I need you right now.”
His hands slid up the bottom of your dress and cupped your asscheeks before clenching tightly, your hands flying to his shoulders to support yourself as you suppressed every single raunchy noise that threatened to leave your lips. You heard him inhale through his teeth before he bit his lip and gazed at you on his lap with hungry eyes.
“Baby, bite down on this for me,” Seonghwa asked softly as he held up the front of your dress by the hem up to your lips.
You did as he asked, giving you the nicest view of your bare breasts, waistline, and tiny thong which was practically useless as it revealed practically everything. Seonghwa ran his tongue over his lower lip as he stared at your body, his hands quickly working on his belt and pants, his cock springing up the second he pushed his underwear down. Before you could formally protest further, he pushed your barely-there-panties aside and slipped his cock in to your soaking wet pussy.
“Wow, look at that,” he whispered teasingly as he felt you tense up around him. “You want this just as much as I do, baby. You’re so fucking wet.”
Seonghwa’s first swear word of the day made tingles run down your spine. It was true— you desperately wanted him ever since you saw him in the distance with that outfit on and the cowboy hat on his head, but it was the fact that he was going to fuck you in public that scared you.
“Don’t worry, baby. This is private property, and even if people show up, they’ll just think we’re being lovey-dovey as long as you stay quiet…” Seonghwa whispered as he read your mind (God, you loved that he knew you so fucking well). “Unless you want everyone to hear you being fucked like a whore.”
Another wave of tingles surfed over your body, making you grip his shoulders even tighter. Blinking through the blurriness of your eyes, you locked eyes with Seonghwa and saw his flushed cheeks and red ears. Your lips got dangerously close to his, only for him to tease you by briefly brushing his lower lip against yours.
“Baby, open up,” he breathed out.
Hesitantly, you opened your mouth, and instead of Seonghwa kissing you, he grabbed a strawberry from the picnic basket and stuck it in between your teeth. Not going to lie, you were confused as hell first, but when you sunk your teeth into the strawberries, you couldn’t help but want more. And so, with his cock deep inside you, you continued to sit on his lap like a good girl and be his cockwarmer as he fed you strawberries.
While he was feeding you, he didn’t hold the strawberry properly, making strawberry juice drip down your lips and chin, little pink dots covering your exposed chest. Without a second to lose, Seonghwa ran his tongue over the juice on your chest before licking a slow stripe from the center of your chest over your collarbones and up your neck and chin before kissing you, his lips and tongue making the remnants of the strawberries taste even sweeter.
“Hwa,” you whined into his mouth as he kissed you hungrily, your hips antsy as you gyrated them against his.
“I got you, baby.”
His hands cupped the underside of your ass and started assisting you as he bounced you gently on his lap, the contact of your hips against his making low, quiet noises. His nose brushed against your neck as he dropped his head, his breathing getting shallower as you rode him at a steady pace, his hips bucking upwards occasionally.
But that wasn’t enough for neither him nor you. You nearly yelped as he leaned forward, knelt, and sat on his knees, his arms wrapping around your waist. His hat fell backwards when you ran your fingers through his hair and tugged at his roots, bringing his head up to look at you. You pressed your lips against his and hugged him tightly as he moved your body with his own sheer strength, his cock somehow going further and further inside you.
“Fuck, baby,” Seonghwa hissed as he broke off the kiss and hugged you to him. “I’m cumming!”
With that, Seonghwa gave you one final thrust before his cock throbbed inside you, his cum spurting inside you and filling you up. His cock remained inside you as the two of you fought to regain your breath, the stars in your eyes immediately clearing— you were so close, but not quite there, filling you with disappointment.
Your gentleman boyfriend, though, knew that you needed just a little more. He smiled gently at you and left a little kiss on the tip of your nose before saying, “Tell you what, baby. If you can keep my load inside you ’til we get back to the house, I’ll eat you out and fuck you until you can’t walk, okay?”
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