#i don’t remember the source but i do remember he said it was just for fun lol

[a-dumb-sarcastic-bisexual]

Clone wars headcanons about Anakin and Ahsoka being siblings

When Anakin pisses Ahsoka off she’ll hunt Obi-Wan down and say something along the lines of “I’m gonna kill your son” the first time this happened it shocked Obi-Wan into silence but it didn’t take long for him to put 2 and 2 together 

Not long after Anakin starts copying Ashoka’s little comment but his are more creative so it’s something along the lines of “Imma throw your daughter out the airlock” he mostly does this because it pisses Ahsoka off when he mimics her but it’s also weirdly therapeutic 

Poor Obi-Wan has to deal with both of them ranting at him so it’s pretty common for him to hear the same story twice in one day

On a couple of rare occasions one of the two enters his room to complain just to find the other doing the same thing which usually results in a new fight because “how dare you come in here to do the same thing I’m doing” 

Those fights usually end with Obi-Wan kicking them out to handle their shit he’s usually willing to hear out both of their sides and problem solve but not when they’re fighting just to fight (which happens sometimes) 

Anakin formed this little tik that makes him laugh and confuses the general public and that tik is whenever someone close to him asks him to do something he’ll say no and do it anyway

He only really does this with Rex and Ahsoka (more so Ahsoka) he respects the rest of them too much at first the duo was confused by it but after a while they just took it as a yes and moved on with it 

It usually looked something like this “General your padawan is being stubborn please go check on her” “No” and then Rex would nod or give a small thanks and then move on 

Or “Hey skyguy can we please get ice cream when we’re done with this mission” “No” “Thanks master!!” 

The first time Obi-Wan saw this happen he was flabbergasted and called Anakin rude which made the duo take a step back because they were so used to it

Ahoksa spoke up first asking “What do you mean master?” and when Obi-Wan clarified that rejecting her so abruptly could rightfully be seen as rude the duo shot him confused looks

Anakin tries to clear it up by saying “What are you talking about I said we could get some” and when Obi-Wan again points out that he told her no Anakin responds with something that makes Obi-Wan want to tear his hair out “but she knows I’m saying yes don’t you snips” to which Ashoka agrees

Obi-Wan walked away muttering about padawans giving him gray hairs and putting him in an early grave 

Ahsoka doesn’t know when she started keeping a mental list of the most embarrassing things the boys have done but it becomes a great source of entertainment for her 

Sometimes when Anakin is getting a little too cocky with Padme she’ll say “Hey master remember when you” and the next thing she knows she’s there’s a hand over her mouth and she’s being dragged away

Sometimes when Rex is taunting her a little too much about how “you almost beat me that time squirt maybe the next time or the next or the next” she’ll respond with “do you think the boys wanna know about that time we were walking to the speeder and” and he shuts up fast as hell 

She’s never had to do this to Obi-Wan but Anakin asked her if she remembers any of his embarrassing moments and all she does is nod the 212 swears they’ve never seen their general go as pale as he did that day 

On the rare occasions that Anakin or Ahsoka want to watch something different than the other it usually results in a lot of bickering a lot of “I’m your master and you will listen to me” and “that doesn’t apply here” thrown out 

But Anakin’s favorite thing to throw in Ahsoka’s face is “I was here first” even if he wasn’t and when she points that out he’ll respond with “I meant alive first”

Sometimes Ahsoka will respond with “I was here first” which results in two paths 1. Being her reminding him she was at the temple before him or 2. Her saying she was born first 

The first response usually ends her in a headlock and the second gets a response that people can hear from outside the temple and that’s Anakin yelling at the top of his lungs “That makes no kriffing sense!!” 

This is me projecting a little bit but I think Ahsoka swears like a damn sailor it’s bad enough to catch Anakin off guard and he’s barely better than her bro can and will curse in multiple languages but force forbid Ahsoka says kriff

She’s startled a few “language!” Or “hey”s out of him which shocks both of them more than it should Ahsoka is more startled by the hypocrisy and Anakin is startled because “Oh kriff I’m turning into Obi-Wan”

The funny thing is a lot of people including Obi-Wan blame Anakin for her cussing problem and a few masters even suggest some less than-up-to-code options to fix the problem which causes Anakin to become a little protective 

On nights when Anakin and Ahsoka can’t sleep and sitting in the temple feels like a death sentence they silently go to Anakin’s favorite speeder and just drive 

Sometimes they have somewhere specific in mind but most of the time they drive with no destination in mind sometimes they pick up Rex or Obi-Wan but most nights it’s just the two of them

Sometimes they talk about life and sometimes they sit in complete silence just enjoying each other's company and the shitty music on the radio

The only consistent thing about these trips is they don't go back until both of their eyes are drooping and Anakin can’t safely drive anymore

They never talk about these little excursions unless they’re already on one honestly they don’t even have to ask most times they’ll just walk into each other's rooms share a look and then walk out 

And there's something weirdly comforting about that routine

#star wars #the clone wars #star wars clone wars #star wars headcanons #anakin skywalker #ahsoka tano #obi wan kenobi #padmé amidala #captain rex #snips and skyguy #disaster siblings #they make me mentally ill #these are all based on me and my sister #were a weird little bunch #the original disaster siblings #they fight like cats and dogs and then call each other their best friends #cause thats what siblings do #I have a lot of au's rotting in my brain #but I don't know if I will write them #ones a soul eater au #that actually makes me really mentally ill

[mask131]

The truth about Medusa and her rape... Mythology breakdown time!

With the recent release of the Percy Jackson television series, Tumblr is bursting with mythological posts, and the apparition of Medusa the Gorgon has been the object of numerous talks throughout this website… Including more and more spreading of misinformation, and more debates about what is the “true” version of Medusa’s backstory.

Already let us make that clear: the idea that Medusa was actually “blessed” or “gifted” by Athena her petrifying gaze/snake-hair curse is to my knowledge not at all part of the Antique world. I still do not know exactly where this comes from, but I am aware of no Greek or Roman texts that talked about this – so it seems definitively a modern invention. After all, the figure of Medusa and her entire myth has been taken part, reinterpreted and modified by numerous modern women, feminist activist, feminist movements or artists engaged in the topic of women’s life and social conditions – most notably Medusa becoming the “symbol of raped women’ wrath and fury”. It is an interesting reading and a fascinating update of the ancient texts, and it is a worthy take on its own time and context – but today we are not talking about the posterity, reinvention and continuity of Medusa as a myth and a symbol. I want to clarify some points about the ACTUAL myth or legend of Medusa – the original tale, as told by the Greeks and then by the Romans.

Most specifically the question: Was Medusa raped?

Step 1: Yes, but no.

The backstory of Medusa you will find very often today, ranging from mythology manuals (vulgarization manuals of course) to Youtube videos, goes as such: Medusa was a priestess of Athena who got raped by Poseidon while in Athena’s temple, and as a result of this, Athena punished Medusa by turning her into the monstrous Gorgon.

Some will go even further claiming Athena’s “curse” wasn’t a punishment but a “gift” or blessing – and again, I don’t know where this comes from and nobody seems to be able to give me any reliable source for that, so… Let’s put this out of there.

Now this backstory – famous and popular enough to get into Riodan’s book series for example – is partially true. There are some elements here very wrong – and by wrong I do mean wrong.

The story of Medusa being raped and turned into a monster due to being raped does indeed exist, and it is the most famous and widespread of all the Medusa stories, the one people remembered for the longest time and wrote and illustrated the most about. Hence why Medusa became in the 20th century this very important cultural symbol tied to rape and the abuse of women and victim-blaming. HOWEVER – the origin of this story is Ovid’s Metamorphoses, from the first century CE or so. Ovid? A Roman poet writing for Roman people. “Metamorphoses”? One of the two fundamental works of Roman literature and one of the two main texts of Roman mythology, alongside Virgil’s Aeneid. This is a purely Roman story belonging to the Roman culture – and not the Greek one. The story of Medusa’s rape does not have Greek precedents to my knowledge, Ovid introduced the element of rape – which is no surprise given Ovid turned half of the romances of Greek mythology into rapes. Note that, on top of all this, Ovid wasn’t even writing for religious purposes, nor was his text an actual mythological effort – he wrote it with pure literary intentions at heart. It is just a piece of poetry and literature taking inspiration from the legends of the Greek world, not some sort of sacred text.

Second big point: The legend I summarized above? It isn’t even the story Ovid wrote, since there are a lot of elements that do not come from Ovid’s retelling of the story (book fourth of the Metamorphoses). For example Ovid never said Medusa was a priestess of Athena – all he said was that she was raped in the temple of Athena. I shouldn’t even be writing Athena since again, this is a Roman text: we are speaking of Minerva here, and of Neptune, not of Athena or Poseidon. Similarly, Minerva’s curse did not involve the petrifying gaze – rather all Ovid wrote about was that Minerva turned Medusa’s hair into snakes, to “punish” her because her hair were very beautiful, and it was what made her have many suitors (none of which she wanted to marry apparently), and it is also implied it is what made Neptune fall in love (or rather fall in lust) with her. I guess it is from this detail that the reading of “Athena’s curse was a gift” comes from – even though this story also clearly does victim-blaming of rape here.

But what is very fascinating is that… we are not definitively sure Neptune raped Medusa in Ovid’s retelling. For sure, the terms used by Ovid in his fourth book of Metamorphoses are clear: this was an action of violating, sexually assaulting, of soiling and corrupting, we are talking about rape. But Ovid refers several other times to Medusa in his other books, sometimes adding details the fourth-book stories does not have (the sixth book for examples evokes how Neptune turned into a bird to seduce Medusa, which is completely absent from the fourth book’s retelling of Medusa’ curse). And in all those other mentions, the terms to designate the relationship between Medusa and Neptune are more ambiguous, evoking seduction and romance rather than physical or sexual assault. (It does not help that Ovid has an habit of constantly confusing consensual and non-consensual sex in his poems, meaning that a rape in one book can turn into a romance in another, or reversal)

But the latter fact makes more sense when you recall that the rape element was invented and added by Ovid. Before, yes Poseidon and Medusa loved each other, but it was a pure romance, or at least a consensual one-night. Heck, if we go back to the oldest records of the love between Poseidon and Medusa, back in Hesiod’s Theogony, we have descriptions of the two of them laying together in a beautiful, flowery meadow – a stereotypical scene of pastoral romances – with no mention of any brutality or violence of any sort. As a result, it makes sense the original “romantic” story would still “leak” or cast a shadow over Ovid’s reinvented and slightly-confused tale.

Step 2: So… no rape?

Well, if we go by Greek texts, no, apparently Medusa was not raped in Greek mythology, and only became a rape victim through Ovid.

The Ancient Greek texts all record Poseidon and Medusa sleeping with each other and having children, but no mention of rape. And the whole “curse of Athena” thing is not present in the oldest records – no temple of Athena soiling, no angry Athena cursing a poor girl… “No curse?” you say “But then how did Medusa got turned into a Gorgon”? Answer: she did not. She was born like that.

As I said before, the oldest record of Medusa’s romance but also of her family comes from Hesiod’s Theogony (Hesiod being one of the two “founding authors” of Greek mythology, alongside Homer – Homer did wrote several times about Medusa, but only as a disembodied head and as a monster already dead, so we don’t have any information about her life). And what do we learn? That Medusa is part of a set of three sisters known as the Gorgons – because oh yes, Ovid did not mention Medusa’s sister now did he? How did Medusa’s sisters ALSO got snake-hair or petrifying-gaze if only Medusa was cursed for sleeping with Neptune? Ovid does not give us any answer because again, it is an “adaptational plot hole”, and the people that try to adapt Ovid’s story have to deal with the slight problem of Stheno and Euryale needing to share their sister’s curse despite seemingly not being involved in the whole Neptune business. Anyway, back to the Greek text.

So, you have those three Gorgon sisters, and Medusa is said to be mortal while her sisters are not. Why is it such a big deal? Because Medusa wasn’t originally some random human or priestess. Oh no! Who were the Gorgons’ parents? Phorcys and Keto/Ceto, aka two sea-gods. Not just two sea-gods – two sea-gods of the ancient, primordial generation of sea-gods, the one that predated Poseidon, and that were cousins to the Titans, the sea-gods born of Gaia mating with Pontos.

So the Gorgons were “divine” of nature – and this is why Medusa being a mortal was considered to be a MASSIVE problem and handicap for her, an abnormal thing for the daughter of two deities. But let’s dig a bit further… Who were Phorcys and Ceto? Long story short: in Greek mythology, they were considered to be sea-equivalents of Typhon and Gaia. They were the parents of many monsters and many sea-horrors: Keto/Ceto herself had her name attributed and equated with any very large creature (like whales) or any terrifying monster (like dragons) from the sea. The Gorgons themselves was a trio of monsters, but their sisters, that directly act as their double in the myth of Perseus? The Graiai – the monstrous trio of old women sharing one eye and one tooth. Hesiod also drops the fact that Ladon (the dragon that guarded the golden apples of the Hesperids), and Echidna (the snake-woman that mated with Typhon and became known as the “mother of monsters”) were also children of Phorcys and Ceto, while other authors will add other monster-related characters such as Scylla (of Charybdis and Scylla fame), the sirens, or Thoosa (the mother of Polyphemus the cyclop). Medusa herself is technically a “mother of monsters” since she birthed both Pegasus the flying horse and Chrysaor, a giant. So here is something very important to get: Medusa, and the Gorgons, were part of a family of monsters. Couple that with the absence of any mention of curses in these ancient texts, and everything is clear.

Originally Medusa was not a woman cursed to become a monster: she was born a monster, part of a group of monster siblings, birthed by monster-creating deities, and she belonged to the world of the “primordial abominations from the sea”, and the pre-Olympian threats, the remnants of the primordial chaos. It is no surprise that the Gorgons were said to live at the edge of the very known world, in the last patch of land before the end of the universe – in the most inhuman, primitive and liminal area possible. They were full-on monsters!

Now you might ask why Poseidon would sleep with a horrible monster, especially when you recall that the Greeks loved to depict the Gorgons as truly bizarre and grotesque. It wasn’t just snake-hair and petrifying gaze: they had boar tusks, and metallic claws, and bloated eyes, and a long tongue that constantly hanged down their bearded chin, and very large heads – some very old depictions even show her with a female centaur body! In fact, the ancient texts imply that it wasn’t so much the Gorgon’s gaze or eyes that had the power to turn people into stone – but that rather the Gorgon was just so hideous and so terrifying to look at people froze in terror – and then literally turned into stone out of fear and disgust. We are talking Lovecraftian level of eldritch horror here. So why would Poseidon, an Olympian god, sleep with one of these horrors? Well… If you know your Poseidon it wouldn’t surprise you too much because Poseidon had a thing for monsters. As a sort of “dark double” of Zeus, whereas Zeus fell in love with beautiful princesses and noble queens and birthed great gods and brave heroes, Poseidon was more about getting freaky with all sorts of unusual and bizarre goddesses, and giving birth to bandits and monsters. A good chunk of the villains of Greek mythology were born out of Poseidon’s loins: Polyphemus, Antaios, Orion, Charybdis, the Aloads… And even his most benevolent offspring has freaky stuff about it – Proteus the shapeshifter or Triton half-man half-fish… So yes, Poseidon sleeping with an abominable Gorgon is not so much out of character.

Step 3: The missing link

Now that we established what Medusa started out as, and what she ended up as… We need to evoke the evolution from point Hesiod to point Ovid, because while people summarized the Medusa debate as “Sea-born monster VS raped and punished woman”, there is a third element needed to understand this whole situation…

Yes Ovid did invent the rape. But he did not invent the idea that Medusa had been cursed by Athena.

The “gorgoneion” – the visual and artistic motif of the Gorgon’s head – was, as I said, a grotesque and monstrous face used to invoke fright into the enemies or to repel any vile influence or wicked spirit by the principle of “What’s the best way to repel bad stuff? Badder stuff”. Your Gorgon was your gargoyle, with all the hideous traits I described before – represented in front (unlike all the other side-portraits of gods and heroes), with the face being very large and flat, a big tongue out of a tusked-mouth, snake-hair, bulging crazy eyes, sometimes a beard or scales… Pure monster. But then… from the fifth century BCE to the second century BCE we see a slow evolution of the “gorgoneion” in art. Slowly the grotesque elements disappear, and the Gorgon’s face becomes… a regular, human face. Even more: it even becomes a pretty woman’s face! But with snakes instead of hair. As such, the idea that Medusa was a gorgeous woman who just had snakes and cursed-eyes DOES come from Ancient Greece – and existed well before Ovid wrote his rape story.

But what was the reason behind this change?

Well, we have to look at the Roman era again. Ovid’s tale of Medusa being cursed for her rape at the hands of Neptune had to rival with another record collected by a Greek author Apollodorus, or Pseudo-Apollodorus, in his Bibliotheca. In this collection of Greek myths, Apollodorus writes that indeed, Medusa was cursed by Athena to have her beautiful hair that seduced everybody be turned into snakes… But it wasn’t because of any rape or forbidden romance, no. It was just because Medusa was a very vain woman who liked to brag about her beauty and hair – and had the foolish idea of saying her hair looked better than Athena’s. (If you recall tales such as Arachne’s or the Judgement of Paris, you will know that despite Athena being wise and clever, one of her main flaws is her vanity).

“Wait a minute,” you are going to tell me, “The Bibliotheca was created in the second century CE! Well after Greece became part of the Roman Empire, and after Ovid’s Metamorphoses became a huge success! It isn’t a true Greek myth, it is just Ovid’s tale being projected here…” And people did agree for a time… Until it was discovered, in the scholias placed around the texts of Apollonios of Rhodes, that an author of the fifth century BCE named Pherecyde HAD recorded in his time a version of Medusa’s legend where she had been cursed into becoming an ugly monster as punishment for her vanity. We apparently do not have the original text of Pherecyde, but the many scholias referring to this lost piece are very clear about this. This means that the story that Apollodorus recorded isn’t a “novelty”, but rather the latest record of an older tradition going back to the fifth century BCE… THE SAME CENTURY THAT THE GORGONEION STARTED LOSING THEIR GROTESQUE, and that the face of Medusa started becoming more human in art.

[EDIT: I also forgot to add that this evolution of Medusa is also proved by strange literary elements, such as Pindar's mention in a poem of his (around 490 BCE) of "fair-cheeked Medusa". A description which seems strange given how Medusa used to be depicted as the epitome of ugliness... But that makes sense if the "cursed beauty" version of the myth had been going around at the time!]

And thus it is all connected and explained. Ovid did invent the rape yes – but he did not invent the idea of Athena cursing Medusa. It pre-existed as the most “recent” and dominating legend in Ancient Greece, having overshadowed by Ovid’s time the oldest Hesiodic records of Medusa being born a monster. So what Ovid did wasn’t completely create a new story out of nowhere, but twist the Greek traditions of Athena cursing Medusa and Medusa having a relationship with Poseidon, so that the two legends would form one and same story. And this explains in retrospect why Ovid focuses so much on describing Medusa’s beautiful hair, and why Ovid’s Minerva would think turning her hair into snake would be a “punishment fit for the crime”: these are leftovers of the Greek tale where Medusa was punished for her boasting and her vanity.

CONCLUSION

Here is the simplified chronology of how Medusa’s evolution went.

A) Primitive Greek myths, Hesiodic tradition: Born a monster out of a family of sea-monsters and monstrous immortals. Is a grotesque, gargoylesque, eldritch abomination. Athena has only an indirect conflict with her, due to being Perseus’ “fairy godmother”. Has a lovely romance with Poseidon.

B) Slow evolution throughout Classical Greece and further: Medusa becomes a beautiful, human-looking girl that was cursed to have snake for hair and petrifying eyes, instead of being a Lovecraftian horror people could not gaze upon. Her conflict with Athena becomes direct, as it is Athena that cursed her due to being offended by her vain boasting. Her punishment is for her vanity and arrogant comparison to the goddess.

C) Ovid comes in: Medusa’s romance with Poseidon becomes a rape, and she is now punished for having been raped inside Athena’s temple.

[As a final note, I want to insist upon the fact that the story of Medusa being raped is not less "worthy" than any other version of the myth. Due to its enormous popularity, how it shaped the figure of Medusa throughout the centuries, and how it still survives today and echoes current-day problems, to try to deny the valid place of this story in the world of myths and legends would be foolish. HOWEVER it is important to place back things in their context, to recognize that it is not the ONLY tale of Medusa, that it was NOT part of Greek mythology, but rather of Roman legends - and let us all always remember this time Poseidon slept with a Lovecraftian horror because my guy is kinky.]

EDIT:

For illustration, I will place here visuals showing how the Ancient art evolved alongside Medusa's story.

Before the 5th century BCE: Medusa is a full-on monster

From the 5th century to the 2nd century BCE: A slow evolution as Medusa goes from a full-on monster to a human turned into a monster. As a result the two depictions of the grotesque and beautiful gorgoneion coexist.

Post 2nd century BCE: Medusa is now a human with snake hair, and just that

#greek mythology #medusa #gorgon #athena #gorgons #poseidon #neptune #minerva #ovid #rape in mythology #greek monsters #roman mythology

[ellastone-olsen]

Would it be possible if you could do a g!p wandanat x female reader with sex pollen?? Its okay if you cant, just an idea if you have nothing else to write🫣🤭

Blue glow - WandaNat

DO NOT COPY ANY OF MY WORKS. MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY

Summary: Curiosity and alien flowers work wonders.

Pairing: G!PWandaNat × fem!R

Warnings:NSWF,SMUT SMUT SMUT, handjob, blowjob, breeding kink, threesome, cockwarming, dirty talk, after care

DISCLAIMER: ENGLISH ISN’T MY FIRST LANGUAGE SORRY FOR GRAMMAR OR SPELLING MISTAKES

Word count: 1.7k

AN: hi anon! I’m glad to see my first request thank you! honestly, until that moment I didn’t know what sex pollen is and I had to turn to google lmao

"What is that?." You asked looking at the strange plant in the pot. "Have you decided to take up gardening? Tony, I thought you weren't old enough to act like my grandma." You stop laughing when the man looks at you sternly, apparently not appreciating the jokes about his age. “This, by the way, is a plant unknown to science (at least on Earth), which I personally grew from seeds strictly for research and not what you just said.” “Okay let’s say it’s like this, let me take a closer does it smell like something?” You also kept a couple of cacti in your room at the Avengers headquarters, which recently bloomed by the way. As soon as you stood up and approached to the pot, a man blocked your way. “Are you crazy, what did I just say? Don’t touch this thing, I don’t know if it’s poisonous or not.” You looked at him sternly and muttered under your breath so that he could also hear, “You said not to touch, not to smell.” The attempt failed.

late Friday evening. Everyone went to their rooms or left the headquarters altogether. There was silence everywhere, only the sounds of Wanda’s steps were heard somewhere in the corridor. The woman had almost reached her destination when she saw some kind of blue glow in the darkness, “What the fuck...”. She came closer and examined some kind of plant that vaguely resembled a flycatcher, but with more spherical “traps.” Then she suddenly remembered...

“Y/N, Natasha, come here let’s hurry up. Y/N, you told me about something in Tony’s office. Check it out, Natasha take a look too.” Apparently the witch was very impressed by the flower, because she excitedly pulled both of you by the hands towards the light source. And where did she get this passion for flora…

“Wanda, we were already getting ready to go to bed, what did you see there?” Nat suddenly fell silent, looking at the strange light. “Did you seriously drag me out of bed for this succulent or what is this?!” She clearly did not share the witch's interest. “Oh, you’re right, this is the flower I told you about. Tony takes such good care of it, and apparently it’s...bloomed? Let’s take a closer and look, it’s cool,” Nat rolled her eyes but followed you two. You raised your face to the flower, wanting to look at it, when suddenly... the ball of the bud opened releasing pollen into the air, apparently from which the light came.

There is absolutely everything around in this stuff, you can hear Natasha’s exclamations: “Don’t breathe in this, it can be poisonous. Damn it, I told you not to come here.” The three of you cough, covering your faces, and go out into the corridor, shaking yourself and each other from the remaining dust. “Now you make me need to take a shower again.” The woman grumbles something else while Wanda calms her down, you also want to answer, but suddenly this feeling comes.

If there was a mirror in front of you right now, you could appreciate how quickly your pupils are dilating, as if you were a drug addict on a high (technically you were), beads of sweat are rolling off your forehead and this pulsation between your legs is as if you were given a dose of an aphrodisiac multiplied by five times. Oh no this is definitely not normal, you need to tell Wanda and Natasha what is happening apparently because of this cute glowing flower. While you were in your thoughts you didn't notice how the swearing died down and both women also noticed the changes.

When you turned your head, you saw two women looking at you with hunger and tents in their pants. Your mouth watered at the sight of the obvious bulge on both of your girlfriends and you impatiently walked over to Wanda, clinging to her like a lifeline. "Oh God, I don't know what it is, but I need you both so bad." Natasha came up from behind, pressing her rock-hard dick to your ass, her arms wrapped around your waist and the redhead’s whisper was heard in your ear. "Oh don't worry baby you'll get what you want.Damn I'm going to die if I don't fill your pretty pussy at least twice. What do you think Wanda?"

You feel the soft material of the sheets as they throw you on the bed, watching as they take off their clothes and look at you as if you were their prey. Your own panties are already hopelessly ruined, lub flows down your thighs at the sight of your girlfriends.

You quickly take of your clothes after which Nat takes you in her arms, pressing a kiss on your lips, you feel her cock poking into your stomach and dripping with pre-cum. Wanda, meanwhile stands behind stroking her length at this spectacle. "Mmm..Nat please." You rock your hips to rub against her cock, but you are suddenly pulled to your feet and forced to your knees.

"No no, first you're going to take every inch of my dick into your mouth, baby." The tip of her cock pressed against your lips and you obediently open your mouth and shake your head along entire length. Wanda can’t just watch anymore and comes up to you, takes your hand and places it on her pulsating length. "Come on baby, jerk off Wanda you can't leave either of us needy. Damn Wanda her mouth feels so good around me. That's such a good cocksucker." You move your hand and rub your thumb over Wanda's sensitive red tip as she begins to rock into your hand. Tears well up in your eyes when Natasha grabs your hair and shuts your mouth. Wanda helps you jerk her off and grins, “What is it baby girl? Is Nat’s dick too big for you? You’re so beautiful, now I want to cum all over your face.”

Natasha began to shamelessly fuck your mouth, running after her orgasm, the head of her dick hitting the back wall of your throat every time. "That's itmbaby, I'm going to cum in your beautiful fucking mouth and you'll swallow every drop. Wanda, are you close? Cum with me." Your hand was thrown away so that Wanda could jerk herself off, cumming all over your face, ropes of Natasha's cum hit your throat and you breathed through your nose as you swallowed every drop as you were told.

You took a deep breath as the redhead pulled out of your mouth and wiped Wanda's release off your face. When you were lifted from the floor, a small puddle of your arousal remained on it, your legs did not obey and your knees were red. You were already dripping and the pitiful whining and pleas left your mouth without hindrance. “Please it hurts so much, I need you to fuck me so bad.”

"What do you think Wanda, I think she deserves to have you fill her pussy." The witch got off with a simple nod as her two strong hands forced you onto all fours on the bed, allowing her to position herself behind you so she could start pounding into you without warning. "God Nat, her pussy was made for my cock, so greedy and tight. You need to see how well she takes me." Nat, meanwhile, spat on her hand for extra lub and stroked her red sensitive tip, appreciating how good the two of you looked. The long-awaited feeling of filling and Wanda’s quick thrusts drove you crazy, you put your hand under you, stimulating your swollen clit. "Yes yes thank you thank you so good fuck I'm gonna cum can I cum?" You know that with the tip of Wanda’s cock deliciously hitting that nice spot inside you, you wouldn’t last long, and having received approval, a minute later the orgasm hit you with incredible force. "Oh yes Y/N you squeeze my cock so well. Oh my God, cum for me like that, cum all over my length." The witch praised you.

You were turned over again and your back touched the cool sheets. Wanda pounding into you hearing a cute whine from your mouth, "Too sensitive. It's too much." "Oh baby girl you can take it. I need to filled this tight pussy so badly. You want my cum inside don't you? Do you love this cock?" "Yes yes I love so fucking much!". Natasha continued to jerk herself off when a cute little idea popped into her head that she only bothered to tell the witch about. The women looked at each other and Wanda nodded in approval of the plan.

The witch's thrusts became faster and she exploded, releasing her load inside you. “Oh yeah baby fuck take all my cum!” The feeling of fullness and how good it was, was the only thing you could think about. Wanda, meanwhile, pulled out of you, giving way to the redhead. Natasha turned you around, taking you by the hips and jerking off her cock, she stuck only the tip inside you, filling you even more. "Oh fuck fuck I'm so full fuck Natasha!" “That’s it my little greedy girl, I know you love it when I fill you up .” The only sounds in the room were heavy sighs and Nat's little whining as she pulled out and looked at the beautiful picture in front of her.

You were lying on your shared bed, Wanda took napkins from the nightstand and carefully wiped all the liquids from your thighs, kissing you and telling you how good you are and how much she loves you. When the witch finished, Natasha threw a robe over your naked body, picked you up, kissing your cheeks and carried you to the bathroom so they could both take care of you the way you truly deserve.

Sitting in a hot bubble bath, you asked, “How do we tell Tony about the pollen effect of his science experiment?”

#natasha x reader #wanda fanfic #wanda maximoff x reader #wandanat #wanda maximoff imagine #natasha romanoff #natasha x you #wanda x you #wandanat x reader #natasha x y/n #natasha romanoff x reader

[intoxicated-chan]

Daryl Dixon request! You and Daryl have just recently got together a few months ago! You and Daryl wander off from the group when you're on the road too look for food water ext, you both get a bit frisky and your sexual tension builds(maybe a bit of bickering), but it’s dangerous, so Daryl takes you against the tree your legs wrapped around him your back against the tree a gun in hand just in case a walker hears, but he’s also kissing you to muffle your moans 💕💕

𝐂𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐫

Summary ➳ Daryl fucks you against the tree. (Idk what else to say) 

(A/n) ➳ I am not made to write smut! Most of one-shot is just fluff and only a couple hundred words is smut... I’m sorry.   

Word Count ➳ 1.4k 

Content Warnings ➳ Female reader, sexual content, mainly fluff, little smut, typical TWD violence, swearing, pet names (Sweetheart, darlin’), getting caught but not knowing? Unprotected sex, p-in-v, outdoor sex, creampie... 

“I ain’t gonna say it again.” You pushed Daryl as the two of you walked through the empty streets. “Move your damn ass.”  

“Stop yer damn whinin’.” Daryl retorted. “And I know yer ass ain’t talkin’ crap when ya nearly lost yerself in places like this and I had to find ya.” Finally, he picked up his pace, just like you wanted him to do for the past two hours, maybe more. 

You rolled your eyes, arms crossed and scoffed but quickly shut yourself up when you tripped on your own feet.  

“I heard that.” Daryl commented.  

“Piss off.”  

“Swearin’ ain’t gonna scare me away sweetheart.” He chuckled and stopped, loading his crossbow as he caught sight of a lone walker. “Yer stuck with me.” He murmured, aiming the crossbow with a finger on the trigger.  

“Sadly.” You playfully sighed, standing back as you let Daryl deal with the simple threat.  

How long has it been? Three- no, four? Yes, four months. You both had strayed from the group, a habit you both developed over the past few months, much to the group’s dismay. 

“Top that.” Daryl said, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He walked to the dead walker, putting his foot on its head to pull the arrow out of its skull. “Now, ya sure we ain’t lost?” He asked, wiping the blood from the arrow.  

You shot him a grin, unfolding your arms and placed them on your lips. “Lost? Please, I could navigate these roads blindfolded.”  

Daryl raised an eyebrow. “Remembered that happened when I left ya with Rick.”  

“Please, don’t remind me.”  

“Then stop lyin’.” 

You shook your head. “Then do you have any idea where we’re headed, Dixon?” You asked, as you pulled at the straps of your bag, trying to relieve your shoulders.  

Daryl shot you a glance, his smirk turning into a genuine smile. “Jus’ followin’ the trail, darlin’.” He answered in his trademark gravelly voice. “Ain’t like we got a map or somethin’.”  

“Well, let’s hope your tracking skills are as good as you say they are.”  

He huffed but then laughed, his eyes moving to what’s in front of them for any sign of movement. “Trust me, (Y/n), ain’t no walker gonna sneak up on us while I’m around.”  

Your smile dropped by the sound of rusting in the bushes beside the road. Daryl aimed his crossbow while you unsheathed your knife. Slowly, they approached the source of the noise, ready to attack. 

But you gasped, a small rabbit darted out from the bush, scurrying away into the distance. Daryl lowered his crossbow.  

“Looks like dinner jus’ ran off.”  

You clicked your tongue, sheathing your knife as you reached into your bag. “Guess we’ll have to settle for canned beans again.” 

The two of you decided to make camp when you noted the sunset, and you knew it would be some time before you reached the group. Daryl gathered dry twigs and branches, making a small fire.  

Sitting side by side on makeshift logs, you both shared a meal of canned beans that were heated by the flames. The fire flickered over the silence, luckily, you both were comfortable.  

Though you side eyed Daryl when he refused the spoon, he found it easier to eat with his hands. Daryl looked at you as you ate, noticing the pistol he had given you for protection wasn’t on or near you. “Where’s the gun I gave ya?”  

You hesitated for a moment, scrapping the sides of the can with your spoon. “I... I couldn’t get it to work.” You admitted sheepishly. “It feels like it’s clogged.” 

Daryl sat his half-eaten can of beans to the side and licked his fingers clean. He reached down to your bag to retrieve the pistol, examining it near the fire. His brows furrowed in concentration as he tried to find the issue.  

As he worked, you couldn’t help but stare. The way his rugged features were softened by the firelight, the way his gruff hands moved with such precision... It made you rub your thighs together.  

He was always skilled with his fingers, making you crumble and become weak with just his hands.  

“-Good to go.” Daryl’s voice made you jump, catching the pistol in time before it hit the ground. “Test it out.”  

You looked around. “Here?”  

“There’s a silencer on it for a reason.” 

“And waste bullets?”  

“Ya gonna complain or try it?”  

Daryl pointed at a tree not far but barely visible. “Try it,” he stood, motioning for you to stand. But you just stared at him. “C’mon.”  

You stood and looked where he pointed, it was a tree with a giant rock to its left side. You gripped the pistol and aimed it.  

Daryl moved behind you. “Ya gotta straighten your posture.” He murmured, his voice low, his hot breath hitting your ear. “Like this.”  

Gently, he adjusted your stance, his hands lingering on your shoulders for a moment, longer than necessary. His hands, his voice, his breath... It all sent shivers down your spinel, a sensation that sent a rush down to your cunt.  

“Is this better?” You said, your voice barely audible. 

Daryl nodded, you couldn’t see but there was a faint smirk. “Much.”  

“Should I-” You stumbled when you felt his hands come on your hips, you felt your face starting to burn. “Daryl?’ 

He hushed you. “Don’ think.” He replied softly. “Go on, fire it.”  

“I can’t.” You retorted. “Walkers are nearby-” 

Daryl snatched the gun and pushed you against a tree, you didn’t see it coming. “Guess I gotta keep ya quiet.” He muttered, leaning in. “Think I didn’t notice ya starin’? Oglin’ me? So damn desperate.”  

“Ain’t my fault.” You said, shrugging, trying to act natural. “Looking like a goddamn meal.”  

“Wanna taste?” Again, he spoke in your ear, nearly making your knees buckle.  

“Please.”  

“Then shut up.”  

He used his free hand to pull you in a kiss, the hand that held a pistol remained by the side of your head. You immediately returned the kiss, your arms wrapped around his neck.  

God, he tasted so good. He smelled so good, some fucking how. Or maybe it was your nose playing with you, but you didn’t care. You needed more of him.  

You then jumped on him, using your own strength to keep you upright. It startled Daryl as he didn’t expect it.  

Daryl's hand squeezed your ass, gaining a moan from you.  He pulled back. “Gotta keep quiet for me.” He said. “Think ya can do that?” 

Yu didn’t understand a single word that came out of his beautiful mouth, but slammed your lips against his, becoming addicted to him.  

“Do me a favor.” Daryl hummed against your neck. “Unbuckle my pants for me.”  

Maggie froze in place, lifting his hand up to stop Carol. “Did you hear that?” She murmured, it sounded like a whimper or maybe a moan.  

“Sounds like a person.” Carol responded.  

“Might be survivors.”  

Nodding in agreement, Carol followed Maggie as she cautiously followed the source of the nose. Moving slowly and carefully, her guard was on high alert.  

But she didn’t expect to see Daryl with his pants around his knees with your legs around his waist. The strap of your tank top fell past your shoulders, exposing one of your breasts.  

It looked like his lips were glued to yours, he only took a couple of moments to catch his breath before they were back on you.  

Carol sighed and covered her eyes turning away, honestly, she wasn’t surprised. She just didn’t think you both go as far as to do it out in the open.  

“That doesn’t look comfortable.” Carol commented.  

“It isn’t.” Maggie replied. “Should we-” 

“Let them get it out of their systems.” Carol grabbed Maggie’s arm to walk away.  

Daryl had you up against the tree, your back throbbing from the uneven trunk digging into your skin. Your lips are most likely swollen by now, saliva dripping down your chin. 

There was something thrilling about being fucked out in the open with danger nearby. But there wasn’t a single ounce of fear with Daryl holding the pistol. 

He felt your fingernails digging into him as he fucked you, he was getting off on it. 

Your moans were always cut off, as well as your words. He took pleasure in seeing you getting frustrated.  

Daryl felt your walls tighten around him, desperately trying to hold him in, chasing an orgasm.  

And when Daryl comes, he does it inside. He manages to go deeper than before. You slumped against Daryl, eyes shut.  

“don’ go sleepin’ on me now.” Daryl now had you standing on your feet, his only hand keeping you up as he looked around. “We got a couple hours before day. I say we use ‘em.” 

© Intoxicated-Chan 2024, I do not allow my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or put on any other platform without my permission. 

Taglist ➳ @celtic-crossbow , @mrdixon , @duffmckagansbandana , @raspberryslxt , @lor-geeked , @thegeorgiahuntsman , @snailss , @xmaeyonaiise , @suniloli , @ladylincoln , @of-storms-and-sadness , @annhells , @sexyxdylanxobrien , @TWDgal , @yoowhatthefuck , @oikawarz , @mylifeinthetardisforever , @let-love-bleeds-red , @virginsexgod69 , @scudslut , @theesexystallion , @yondus-girl , @raoudixs , @sleep-queen , @gyustarzzi2 , @stunt-lads , @Lettersfromyourlove ,  

#x reader #x female reader #fluff #the walking dead x you #twd daryl #twd x reader #twd x y/n #twd x you #daryl dixon x reader #daryl x reader #daryl fanfiction #twd daryl dixon #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixon #daryl dixion smut #daryl dixion x reader #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl x y/n #daryl x female reader #daryl x you #daryl dixon x you #twd smut #the walking dead x y/n #the walking dead smut #the walking dead x reader #daryl smut

[luveline]

what if bombshell!reader proposed to Spencer? Instead of Spencer proposing to bombshell!reader? Would he be upset or just as happy? Also, I absolutely adore your writing! 🥰💕

ty for requesting!! —spencer gets a love he deserves, 1.4k, fem!reader

The first proper time that you and Spencer slept together, he wasn’t nervous. It was sort of like a high school sleepover. You’d slept in shared beds in stuffy hotels and he’d once stayed the night while he was too drunk to remember it, but the first time you invited him in with intention to just be together, he wasn’t scared. You remember being surprised. Looking back, you shouldn’t have been. 

You laid together like you are now. He wore a grey t-shirt and a pair of blue chequered pants, and he’d pushed his hair back all day leaving the front pieces limp, and he’d touched your cheek to encourage your face to his before he moved in for one polite kiss. “I love you,” he’d said, much too early and a couple years too late at the same time. 

You turn on your side now to look at him. His contacts are out, his glasses perched on the edge of his nose. He’s watching a video on his laptop and the line of his jaw is soft. Or, softer than usual. He has a very sharp jaw. 

You shift a bit to alleviate the pressure on your hip.

“You okay?” Spencer asks. He doesn’t look away from his laptop nor does he sound tuned in. It’s sort of funny that he manages to care even when he’s not paying attention.

“Yeah.” 

“Tired?” 

“Not really.” 

“Hungry at all?” 

“Just brushed my teeth.” 

“That’s not the question I was asking.” 

“Not hungry, Spencer. Can I watch too?” 

He turns the laptop toward you to the point where his view is obscured, raising the volume a touch. “It’s about Tuberculosis. Do you wanna watch something else?” 

“No, this sounds interesting.” 

He settles in next to you. His fingers brush your chest. For a good forty five minutes, you and Spencer watch the rest of his video. He gets visibly tireder the longer it goes on, but neither of you attempt to get ready to sleep until the video’s finished. He closes the lid of his laptop, twisting in bed to deposit it gently on the floor. There’s a familiar shush of him sliding it under the bed to stop you from standing on it (a learned precaution). 

“Did you take that vitamin, the primrose?” he asks, flicking off his bedside lamp, leaving yours as the only source of light in the entire room. It’s a pink glass shade that kisses his pale skin a rosy hue. 

“Yeah, Spence.” 

He shakes the sheets back and the over you both. One minute you’re apart and the next he’s pulling you into him, confident handed, his breath warming your face as the gap between you thins. Despite his readying, he doesn’t say goodnight, or close his eyes. This is your time now. You often spend time at night just talking to each other about everything you’d meant to say that day, or nonsense conversation, until one or both of you has been lulled into a peaceful sleep. 

“I have something I want to tell you,” you say. 

“Okay.” He sounds completely trusting, no worrying, no reluctance. 

“You remember the first time you stayed at my apartment?” 

“No.” 

“The second time,” you correct. 

“Yes,” he says, grinning. “I was much less intoxicated that time.” 

“You were sober.” 

“I didn’t feel sober,” he says. 

“Nice. You’re getting so good at this.” 

“Thank you.” 

“But do you remember that?” You trace the curve of his nose. He’ll have to take his glasses off soon. They’ve already worn red crescents into his skin. “You told me you loved me.” 

“I can’t forget it,” he says, still grinning. You’ve tried to tell people —idiots— who don’t understand you and Spencer that, even without his million charms and idiosyncrasies, you’d love him for his smile. It changes his entire face. He never looks as beautiful to you as he does when he’s smiling. 

“I didn’t say it back.” 

“We’d only been together for a few days,” he says. “It was one of my moments.” 

“Spencer, I did love you, though. I should’ve told you. I knew in that moment that you really, really meant it, and I just want you to know that when you said it, I could have said it back. I should have. I loved you just as much, I promise.” 

“I know,” he whispers, eyes slightly widened. 

“I think I’ve loved you since the day we met. It’s cliche.” 

“Sometimes things are cliche because they’re good,” he says, laying his cheek more firmly into his pillow as he raises a hand to your face. His thumbs rests in the space under your chin. His fingertips brush along the skin just beside your lips. “And true. I loved you the minute you introduced yourself.” 

You savour the feeling of his hand on your cheek. 

“You’re so handsome,” you say, “and kind. You’re everything to me. You know that.” 

Spencer wraps his arm gently under your chin and behind your head as he lays closer to you. “I know. You’re everything to me. You’re my best friend in the whole world, I– didn’t even know how happy I could be before now.” 

“Me too, baby.” 

He closes his eyes. Your noses touch. 

“Spencer Reid, will you marry me?” you whisper.

Quiet. Aching, total quiet. He curls his arm behind your head until your lips are a hair’s width apart, and when he answers, it’s like he’s spoken directly to the deepest parts of you. “It’s all I want,” he says. 

“I got you a ring,” you murmur. 

The air races with your heart. The sound of your skin and clothes is the only thing to be heard between breaths. “I got you three,” he says. 

“Spencer, what for?” you ask, afraid to open your eyes and break the spell, the branching, unending feeling of connection you share. 

“I didn’t know which one you’d like.”

“You’ll marry me?” you ask. 

“Angel, I already said yes. I love you. I told you already we’d have to get married.” 

“Oh, we have to?” 

Spencer kisses you. It’s startlingly open-mouthed for a moment, but you adapt and overcome, you love him and his every touch, tilting your head to the side to allow him room to ferry in and kiss you deeply. It’s slow and measured, then quick and undecided. He turns his face one way to kiss you, then the other, back again, a hint of roughness —of hunger to it as he pulls your face to his. 

A spark of heat against your nose. 

Your eyes flutter open, a pinked path of light scored diagonally down his cheek. “Spence,” you say, feeling the weight and heat of tears gather behind your eyes, even as you smile, “don’t cry, baby.” 

“I feel like I spent my whole life waiting for someone to love me and it doesn’t feel real that it’s you,” he whispers slowly. 

“No? How do I make it more real for you, sweetheart? What can I do?” you ask sincerely. 

He shakes his head. 

You push your forehead into his. He doesn’t cry anymore than two burning hot tears, rubbing your shoulder as you yourself sniffle back your own emotion. You’re really not sad. You hurt for him, but this is one of the best things that’s ever happened to you. 

“Do you want to choose your ring?” he asks, enthusing his voice with cheer. 

“Do you want to see yours first?” 

“Did you get me a diamond?” he asks. 

“Don’t be silly, Spencer, of course I did.” 

He laughs and kisses you three times in quick succession before he sits up, wiping his face, chuckling wryly. “Sorry, I didn’t think I would react like that.” 

You tangle your fingers with his before he can get too far away. “I love you, honey. There’s nothing wrong with crying about it.” 

You aren’t expecting to start crying when he slides one of the rings he’s chosen for you over your finger. He says you can see each one in action and choose after you've seen them all, but the moment the band is over your knuckle, you know it’s the one you’ll keep. You push the ring you’d bought for him onto his finger with your cheeks still tearstained.

The diamond on his ring isn’t quite as big as the one he’d bought for you, but it looks right nestled against his pale skin. That night, you talk more than you ever have before, falling asleep only minutes after the glowing threads of morning have painted your twined hands with gold. 

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction

[delta-piscium]

Steddie | 1.7k words it is (swedish) midsummer so I wrote this based on my favorite old tradition because I can and will make anything steddie, so like glad midsommar (happy midsummer)

“What are you doing?” Steve asks as he follows Eddie to the hallway where he’s frantically putting on his shoes. 

“I almost forgot,” he mutters under his breath not acknowledging Steve at all.

“Forgot what?” 

“I can’t believe I almost forgot.” 

“Eddie,” Steve says a little louder, more adamant.

He does look up at Steve then and almost looks surprised to see him. As if he’d forgotten he was there, as if they haven’t been hanging out for hours. 

“Oh,” he says. “Uhm,” he squints at Steve who waits for him to continue, to explain. He doesn’t.

“Yes?” Steve implores because he would really like an explanation. Eddie had just abruptly stood up halfway through telling Steve about some folklore he’s using in his new campaign, just cut himself off mid-sentence and walked off. Steve doesn’t think it’s especially weird or demanding of him to have questions. 

“Did you have other plans that you just now remembered?” Steve frowns, starting to feel unsure when Eddie still isn’t saying anything. It’s just past eleven at night and Steve doesn’t know what plans those would be but he had showed up unannounced earlier in the evening so it’s not impossible that Eddie had plans that Steve interrupted. 

“No, no, no,” Eddie assures him finally breaking his silence, “it’s- okay it’s a little silly but I read this thing researching and I want to try it.” 

And well, okay then.

Steve raises his eyebrows and waves his hand gesturing for Eddie to go on. 

Eddie’s cheeks turn a light pink and he resolutely looks somewhere above Steve’s shoulder instead of at him. 

“Midsummer, which is today, is supposed to be this magical night and there are all these traditions and old myths about it.” 

Eddie glances at Steve and he smiles. Tries to show he’s listening and wants to know whatever thing Eddie read about. 

“And well, okay so there’s this one tradition where you pick seven different kinds of flowers before you go to bed and then put them under your pillow and you’re supposed to dream about who you’re gonna spend your life with.” 

Steve blinks, wasn’t expecting that and doesn’t know what to say about it, so, he blinks again. 

“Maybe it’s dumb, but with all we’ve seen magic and folklore don’t seem so far-fetched and,” he shrugs, “I wanna try. And like, it’s close to midnight and I don’t know if that’s a rule but I don’t wanna risk messing it up.”

“It- huh,” Steve frowns slightly and looks at his shoes then back at Eddie. “Yeah alright, let’s do it. Can’t hurt right?” 

His voice is light, like it’s not a big deal and just a fun thing Eddie read about because that’s what it is, isn’t it? But something about it settles deep in Steve’s gut. Makes it feel important in a way he’s not sure he could explain if he tried. Maybe it’s just the fact that Eddie is getting so worked up about the possibility of dreaming about the person he’s gonna spend his life with when Steve maybe a little bit wishes it would be him, but like, only a little. 

Eddie looks at him with wide eyes like he didn’t expect Steve to want to join, like maybe he expected Steve to make fun of him for wanting to do it. But then something seems to switch in him and a slow smile spreads over his face and he gives Steve an exaggerated once over. 

“Looking to find your true love huh, Harrington?” 

“I thought you said it was the person you spend your life with, not the same as true love necessarily.” Steve quips back because technicalities are easier to argue over than answering that question, especially when Eddie is the one asking.

Eddie shrugs. “Different sources say different things, sometimes it’s true love sometimes it’s who you marry.” 

“Well, then I guess we’re both looking to find our true loves?” Steve hedges, drags Eddie down with him if they’re gonna go there. 

A soft look passes Eddie’s face before a responds, voice quieter. “Guess we are, yeah.” 

They pick their flowers in silence, something about the magic being broken if you speak. Walking around the edge of the woods behind Eddie’s trailer a couple of feet apart, every once in a while coming together or crossing paths. 

After, Steve stands in between Eddie’s trailer and his own car. Holding on to his bouquet of seven flowers unsure what to do. He could go home, he should go home, but he doesn’t want to. He did have some beers hours ago and if he was allowed to speak he’d use that as an excuse to not drive and ask Eddie to crash on his couch. Right now he can’t though so he sighs inwardly and turns to his car. 

He makes it about two steps before a hand reaches out and grips him around his free wrist stopping him. When he turns around Eddie is giving him a look that very clearly says ‘stop being stupid’ and jerks his head towards the trailer silently telling Steve to go with him. He doesn’t let go though and uses his grip on Steve to drag him along like he can’t be sure Steve will actually listen and follow. As if Steve would ever not follow Eddie. 

They quickly get ready for bed. And again when Steve walks toward the couch Eddie grabs him and shakes his head. He waves his arms around a bit like that’s supposed to explain anything but Steve isn’t too bothered about an explanation anyways and easily follows Eddie to his bedroom. 

They’ve shared a bed before but always when they’ve been drunk or high so this feels different. Steve is a little glad they can’t speak or he’s sure he’d blurt out something way too revealing about it all. 

He avoids looking at Eddie as he tucks his flowers in under his pillow, knows Eddie is doing the same next to him. Is aware of it only being an old myth from a region halfway across the world but there’s a weight to it. Something real and tangible. 

He expects it to take a while for him to fall asleep like it always does. For him to twist and turn and lay awake until the early morning. For once though, that doesn’t happen. With the weight of Eddie next to him and to the sounds of his soft breathing and small movements, Steve falls asleep.

And he dreams. He dreams of big brown eyes and bright laughter. Of wild hair and warm arms embracing him. He dreams of growing old next to someone and how every wrinkle on their face tells a story of their shared love. 

He wants to stay in the dream forever, desperately tries to hold onto it even as he floats into consciousness. He turns and groans, gets a mess of someone’s hair in his mouth and nose and that’s enough to startle him into full wakefulness. 

Eddie grumbles next to him, clearly also just waking up. Steve looks at him, with his wild hair and his big brown eyes that are slowly blinking open and of course. Of course, it was Eddie he dreamed about.

Their eyes meet and Eddie freezes. Eyes widening as he looks back at Steve. 

“Oh,” he says. 

And yeah, oh.

“Eddie?” Steve asks, unsure of how to bring it up, to ask about it. If he even should? 

He puts on a teasing smile, even though he feels like goo inside, but making it lighthearted is all he can think of because what if he’s taking this whole thing way too seriously? Jumping to conclusions? 

“Dream of anyone?” 

Eddie nods and looks away, “I did.” He says it simply, voice careful. 

And maybe it isn’t just Steve.

“Who?” He asks, dropping the teasing tone. 

Eddie swallows and looks back at Steve. “The person I wanted to dream of,” he says and it’s not really an answer but he’s looking at Steve so intently he thinks it still might be. 

He thinks about Eddie’s quiet but delighted surprise at Steve wanting to join him yesterday. About Eddie dragging him first into his trailer and then into his bed. How they’re so close on Steve’s side of the bed and Eddie must have drifted towards him in his sleep.

He bites his lip to stop his smile from spreading too wide, there’s still a chance he’s misinterpreting things, “yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

“And who would that be?” Steve asks, leaning in even closer until he feels Eddie’s small puffs of breath across his face. 

“You,” Eddie whispers but Steve hears it clearly. 

He takes a moment to bask in it, to let it wash over him before he responds.

“That’s good,” Steve tells him eventually and Eddie’s eyes are so wide and open, and so pretty, “because I dreamt of you.” 

He knows it’s cheesy so he doesn’t give Eddie time to respond, just leans in and closes the remaining gap between them. Slots their lips together. Eddie gasps into the kiss, grabs Steve by the hair, and pulls him in. Makes all these cute noises that make Steve want and want and want. 

He shifts, goes to put his leg in between Eddie’s to move on top of him and get a better angle. But he only gets halfway before Eddie grabs his hips and twists them around. Pushes Steve flat on his back and straddles him. 

He grins down at Steve. 

“You think the Scandinavian magic worked or was it just dream psychology and wishful thinking?” 

“Does it matter?” Steve asks, way too earnestly. But like, they’ve just spent this whole time doing some true love magic so he thinks it’s fine, “got what I wanted.” 

“It’s forever though,” Eddie points out, bending down to bite at Steve’s jaw, “if we believe the old Norse people.” 

Steve hears the question there, thinks this might be Eddie’s way of asking what this means to Steve. His way of telling Steve this isn’t just a hookup for him.

“God yeah,” Steve exhales, “I fucking hope so.” 

He feels Eddie smile into his neck and grabs his hair, uses it to pull him back and steer him into another kiss. 

#listen I wrote this today while actively celebrating midsummer during any break i had so lets just hope it makes sense and isn't riddled #with mistakes but if it is i can only apologize... #literally me with anything ever 'but what if it was steddie tho?' like damn del calm down #posting this after midnight tho so just shhh about it okay? ive been busy busy #me: ill work on my wips #also me immediately: *writes something else* #but it was for the occasion so #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #dels steddie thoughts #my writing #stranger things #steddie fic

[everythingacotarbxm1012]

They're Mates - with Y/N Pt 3

Summary - Y/N decides she wants to learn to fly again.

Warnings/Other Notes - This one is in 2nd person pov because the first two chapters were looking at Y/N and Az’s relationship from a source not within their relationship. 2k word chapter- Again, some of these lines/plot points are inspired by, or directly quoted from, ACOMAF. This chapter takes place prior to the first two chapters.

Injury mentioned, though not super graphically. Reader relives/remembers having her wings cut.

Part One || Part Two || Part Three

✨💫

You could feel the blade cutting into your wings. Tears spilled down your face as you screamed in pain, begging the Mother to make it stop. You were never going to fly again. The one thing that brought you unending joy, your only source of freedom, was being taken away.

“Y/N?”

The edges of your memories blurred. That voice, you recognized that voice.

“Y/N?!”

That sweet, honey-like voice called you. Something in you warmed and the pain lessened. Like you were basking in the sun.

“Y/N!”

You shot up in bed, your legs tangled in the sheets. A cold sweat dripped down your face and that same smooth voice kept saying something, but your mind was still catching up and couldn’t process them, not right now. Your chest rose and fell rapidly and then there were hands cupping your face. Not those smooth hands in the romance novels, but hands with bravery and adventure etched into them. Hands that felt like home. Your eyes shot up to meet a pair of hazel ones. Azriel.

“You’re safe. I’m here, your safe. Your father can’t touch you anymore,” the shadowsinger whispered to you. 

You nodded and leaned forward to wrap your arms around him. He reciprocated. You chased away the nightmare, remembering where you were. I’m here with Azriel. With Cassian, and Rhysand. With Rhys’s mother. Az saved you. Your arms tightened slightly around the shadowsinger, burrying your face into his muscular shoulder. His shadows curled around the both of you. His scent felt like home. The same scent that you had become familiar with every time you fell asleep, the one still lingering in the bedding when you woke up and he was gone off to train, with a promise to come back in time for dinner.

Sharing a bed with the Illyrian didn’t start right away, not on purpose. It just happened one night. Azriel never made it back to his own bed, instead he fell asleep comforting you from the same nightmare. Then it became purposeful, falling asleep and not returning to his own chambers. And one night the shadowsinger didn’t even bother finding his way into his own bed, Az just went straight to yours. You certainly didn’t mind and Rhys’s mother never said anything.

“Azriel?” You asked against his shoulder.

He placed the gentlest kiss to your temple. One that reminded you of a waltz you heard one day in Velaris. “Yes?”

You lifted your eyes to look at Az’s face. “What if I never fly again?” Your chest started heaving again. You broke away from the shadowsinger and looked away. It felt like someone had lit a fire inside you. Not one that someone makes to keep you warm on an incredibly chilly night, but a fire started out of malice, one to kill and destroy.

Azriel’s features became softer, contemplative if that was at all possible. “Impossible…because I’ll teach you.” 

Your eyes shot up to his face. “Are you…certain? Do you not need to train? I don’t—”

“I would spend the rest of my life in that damned cell for you again, Y/N.” He paused. “Don’t think I wouldn’t teach you to fly. Unlike Cass and Rhys I remember learning. Both of them would tell you to just flap your wings. I understand the fears and mental blocks of being older.”

You let out the softest laugh, wiping a drop of sweat from your forehead. “Thank you, Azriel.”

He nodded in his silence, considering something a moment. Az stood from the bed, his pants sitting low on his hips as he disappeared into the washroom and reappeared a few moments later with a damp cloth. “May I?”

You nodded and he gently pressed the cool cloth to your forehead, making the sweat disappear as if it had never happened. His shadows flitted through your hair. Whispering to you. Care. Care. Care.

The shadowsinger tried to call them back, but they had a mind of their own, especially around you. You chuckled lightly. Silly little guys, acting like a bunch of toddlers. When Az decided he had done a sufficient job of wiping your face he pressed another kiss to your forehead before hanging the cloth to dry and returned. 

You were lying down in the bed when he returned. He climbed in next to you before pulling you against him. You both fell asleep and slept soundly for the rest of the night.

The following day you went into Velaris with Rhysand’s mother to run a few errands. Her skills as a seamstress were impressive and she used it as an opportunity to occupy a portion of her time. You stopped at your favorite bakery to pick up a few things for dinner that evening. You also found a used book on diplomacy that was on sale. Rhys’s mother kindly bought it for you; well maybe more for Azriel’s shadow who seemed desperately intrigued with it. When you returned home, to your surprise, Trouble, More Trouble, and Too Much Trouble, were already there. (Nicknames you had aptly given to Azriel, Rhysand, and Cassian.)

Too Much Trouble grinned when he saw you and clapped his brother on the back. “This one here got us kicked out early today for starting not one, not two, but three fights. I mean he looked like death coming to collect souls for the next life. Don’t insult, Y/N!!”

“Shut up, Cassian,” Rhys said, giving a pointed look.

“You weren’t any use, Cassian,” Azriel growled back while shoving his brother’s hand away from his shoulder. Az had a black eye and dried blood along his cheek bone. He didn’t meet your gaze but his shadows happily slithered over to you. Protect, Protect, Protect, they whispered to you. Then you understood the shadows’ need to be near you, hovering. The reason why you had a shadow over your shoulder since Az saved you from your father. A form of protection, something to keep you safe, something to report back to the shadowsinger if you were in danger. 

And that’s exactly what Azriel had done earlier that day. Defended you without remorse. 

You glanced at Cassian who had a bruise on his jaw and then to Rhys who also had a black eye. Rhys’s mother looked far from pleased. “Cassian. Rhysand. Upstairs! Clean yourselves up.” Her gaze turned to the shadowsinger. “Azriel. Sit .” His mother announced as she put the bags down from your earlier trip to Velaris. 

For all her softness, Rhys’s mother certainly had a sharpness to her not often seen. Rhys and Cass’s wings hung ever so slightly and only for a moment before they shifted again and they disappeared up the stairs. You followed them.

When you got to your room, you opened the book bought earlier that day and began reading on the bed. The sheets still smelled of him, of both of you. The shadow rested on your shoulder, appearing deeply engrossed in the words too. About fifteen minutes later you could hear the shadowsinger coming up the stairs. You knew it was him for the sole reason of his footsteps. You had learned how Azriel, Rhysand, and Cassian walked. The heaviness of their feet, the pace.

You could hear Az and Rhys out in the hall. “Your mom wants you,” is all you heard before Rhys is walking downstairs and the shadowsinger is walking into your room. You closed your book to look up at him.

“C’mon.” The shadowsinger stepped towards the small balcony and opened the doors. “You can’t learn to fly in here.”

“What,” you asked him, confused.

“You think I started the third fight for the fun of it?” Azriel asked, offering his hand out to you.

You only gave him a confused look, remaining on the bed.

He walked back towards the bed where you sat reaching for your boots. He knelt down on his knees. “Sure, the moron had it coming. That doesn’t change the fact that fighting with him for a third time got me the afternoon off to teach someone how to fly.”

Your mouth fell agape. “Azriel,” you admonished and a smile came over the shadowsinger’s lips before pulling on your boots. “I am perfectly capable of putting on my shoes, Az.”

He only offered you a hand after he tied them up. You took it before he swept you into his arms. You craved his embrace, more than so many other things. Azriel walked back towards the balcony and shot into the sky.

You never imagined how some people hate this, because Gods this felt good, felt like freedom. It reminded you of your childhood when you flew whenever you could, as if flying up into the sky might take you away from all of your problems. You just hoped the next time you flew it would be on your own wings.

Azriel landed in a clearing, gently placing you down on the ground carefully, to make sure you didn’t fall. “I want you to be careful. If anything hurts too—”

“I promise I’ll tell you,” you said to him with a nod. 

“Is it…is it okay…okay if I touch your wings? For correction I mean? Should it be… necessary?” The shadowsinger asked from behind you, almost nervously. For good reason. The concept of touching someone’s wings without permission, in particular females, was beyond inappropriate. 

You nodded, you could sense the shadowsinger behind you, observing your wings carefully. You could feel his eyes scanning up and down. “Azriel?” You asked quietly.

“I can’t say I am a healer and know the anatomy well, but perhaps we start at the beginning. Test the muscles, the ligaments.”

You nod, something feeling oddly intimate about the moment. You turn to face the shadowsinger whose face had contemplating written all over it.

“Try spreading them and tucking them in,” he said as you faced each other. 

You nodded, spreading your wings as best you could. Mother above you hadn’t actually tried to do this in a while. You grimaced but managed to spread them, pushing them to your full extent, spreading your feet to offer you more balance.

A small smile of pride was clear on Azriel’s face. “Now fold inward.”

You did, slowly, afraid to tear or rip something in your wings. You couldn’t stop the smile when you folded inward with success. 

“Good,” he said with a mild amusement in his eyes. “Try again.”

You spread your wings again, your muscles ached, but that was good. That meant they were there, that meant you had a chance. 

Azriel’s eyes followed the movements, and cauldron boil him if your form wasn’t the most stunning thing he had ever seen. The shadowsinger had to put more concentration into not letting his knees buckle under him than he would like to admit. Beautiful. Stunning. Lovely. Beautiful, stunning. Lovely, his shadows whispered in his ear.

You pulled your wings shut rather than slowly closing them which caused you to lose your balance slightly, falling forward. Azriel reached out to catch you before you could land on the ground with a light amusement in his eyes before he suddenly realized how close in proximity you were to him. 

You’d been this close before. By the Gods, you shared a bed every night, but something felt different. You gently rest your hands against the shadowsinger’s chest in silence. 

“Y/N?” He asked quietly, hands shifting to cup either side of your face.

You looked up to see his face leaning down slightly. “Azriel.”

You don’t know who leaned in first, maybe Azriel, maybe you. It didn’t matter, because moments later the shadowsinger’s lips were on yours. They were sweet, and salty, and soft and warm. Like a warm biscuit on a cold night. Your fingers wound up in his hair before he pulled away. “Was that okay?”

His response was pulling your lips to his again, harder, more desperately like he had lived in a dry dessert for centuries and you were a tiny pool of water in the middle of it all.

You returned to opening and closing your wings, building the muscle until it was as easy as walking, though it certainly felt like the cauldron was burning you alive when you woke up the following morning. But you couldn’t be bothered, you were going to fly again.

Taglist: @5onedirection5

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel shadowsinger #acotar fanfiction #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #2nd person pov #azriel x female!reader #azriel fluff #angst #rhysand acotar #cassian acotar #rhysand’s mother acotar #rhysand #cassian #rhysand’s mother #flashback

[ludwigplayingthetrombone]

Finally finished the first part of gai’s 8 gates coma and how kakashi dealt with it rewrite people have been requesting. [tw blood, injury, coma, death discussions, grief]

Kurenai: Kakashi Kks: Ah. Kurenai and...baby, what’s up? Kurenai: You mind if I come in a moment? Kks: Uhhhhh I-

Kks: So what did you need to speak about? Did something happen? K: No, Nothing’s happened. You haven’t gotten to properly see and bond with her yet. Here Kks: You know I’m not fond of kids. K: That’s why I didn’t ask. Hold your arms out. Ok, now, don’t look absolutely petrified.

Kks: She’s ok, I guess [YELP] Oi! Don’t pinch me while I’m holding your baby! K: You wouldn’t drop her. Asuma would haunt you forever! Kks: Terrifying thought, Mirai.... How are you feeling? K: Exhausted. Do you really want to hear how horrifying having a baby is? Kks: No, please don’t tell me.

K: I came over to check on you as well. Any news? Kks: No. He’s still the same. K: Is that why it looks like this in here? Kks: ...Yeah. Doctor said he may never wake up. Since we’re eachother’s medical contacts, Tsunade told me I had to prepare to make hard decisions should it come to that.

Kks: With the council breathing down my neck over a job I don’t want, I had... A bit of an outburst. K: I don’t even blame you. That’s... That they expect you to carry on like normal. Still grieving. The person you love most is gone. But you’re still here. Don’t let them just dust you off and move on again. I’ll always have your back. Kks: You and Asuma always did. Even when I wasn’t grateful for it.

Kks: I can’t tell if they just don’t care or didn’t realize, Gai’s the one who held me together all these years. Only reason I’m still here at all is because of him. I don’t think tenzou, the elders, or the village are prepared for what’ll become of me if I lose him. So, I don’t care anymore. Let them be mad. I won’t give up on him. K: You should talk to him. Kks: huh K: Talk about anything! I’m sure the sound of your voice will help him find his way back. Especially if you sound sad, Kks: uuh

K: I can hear it now, “My eternal rival is sad? Not on my watch!“ Kks: Pretty accurate impression. K: There’s been lots of source material! Kks: Maaa, Your mom’s a huge dork K: Oi! [kakashi chuckles]

K: He’ll be so upset he missed her birth Kks: Oh, devastated. I can’t wait to see the look on Gai’s face, Mirai, when I tell him /I/ held you first! When he wakes up

Kks: Hey, Gai. Kurenai said i should talk to you.

Kks: Feels weird. Most of the people I’m used to talking to like this are all... Dead.

It’s so eerie how silent you’ve been for so long. you’re not even this quiet when you sleep. Your kids come everyday to see you. Naruto and sakura when they can. Lots of others. I’ve been telling them embarrassing  stories from when we were kids since you keep making them wait. Do you remember when I came over while you and Dai were making supper

Dai: Kakashi! Good to see you, my boy! Kks: Id Gai home? Dai: He’s helping with supper! Go on, inside, you’re always welcome! Kks: Ok Dai: Atta boy Kks: Hey, G- !? ummm? Gai: OH!! Rival!! Kks:  Is that a lid?! Gai: Correct!! It stops me from crying while cutting onions! A win for me!!

Kks: Against.... the onions? Gai: Yep! KKs:[snicker] Gai: Laugh all you want! Not everyone can comprehend innovation. Kks: Whatever. You forgot this at the training grounds. I know it’s yours there’s a turtle on it. Gai: See! You’re already tearing up! Kks: Am not Gai: Also, thankyou so much! Kks: Bye, I’m leaving. Gai: Could it be? You’re scared I can cut much faster than you! Kks: I am not scared. Gai: Good, I think we have another lid! Kks: YOU-!

Dai: Great to see growing boys with such a hunger! I’ll never have to prep onions again! Kks: I think about that everytime I chop onions now. You’ve altered my brain with all the ridiculous things you’ve done. Can’t even look at the toys you’ve gotten the dogs without getting emotional

Kks: Just knowing you’re here still, I can barely function. It’s pretty pathetic... Your hair’s getting long. Turning into your dad.

[gai’s heartbeat] Kks: Gai

[gais heartbeat continues]

[gai’s heartbeat continues] Kks: If anything should happen to me, you’ll rush over, right? Gai: Damn right, I will. Dont you worry about that.

[Gai’s heartbeat]

Kks: I miss you

#kakagai #gaikaka #Kakashi Hatake #Maito Gai #might guy #naruto #my art #//coma #//blood #//death mention #Kurenai Yuhi #mirai sarutobi #naruto spoilers #i guess

[milla-frenchy]

3k2 | Steve Murphy x fem reader x Javier Peña Summary: two DEA agents come to your apartment to extract information from you Warnings: 18+ mdni. Dark. Noncon/dubcon Degradation, dacryphilia, threesome, oral (f/m), whiskey bottle, choking, spitting, slapping, pussy slapping, spanking, unprotected piv, light rimming, creampies. No age specified a/n: @toxicanonymity this is for you 🖤 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog Thank you for everything 💕🫶 The title is from some lyrics of Tear you apart by She wants revenge

ao3 | masterlist

You were used to being afraid during your work. Sometimes, you were afraid in the streets of Bogota, on your way home. But you had never been afraid at home. It was your sanctuary, a safe place, where what you had to do with your clients didn’t interfere.

When you opened your door and removed the key from the lock, you were just thinking about the evening you were going to spend, in peace, even though it was already late at night. Until you saw a silhouette of a man, sitting at your dining room table. In fear, you screamed and turned towards the door, thinking of escaping. But the door closed before you reached it, and a second figure, previously hidden behind the open door, appeared. You stopped in your tracks, transfixed, wondering what was happening.

The second man turned on the light. He was blond, with a mustache. A leather jacket and jeans. His gun was sticking out of the front of his pants, and you recognized him. A DEA agent, who sometimes hung out near the brothel where you worked. You've heard his name before, Murphy. Steve, as far as you remembered. And now you had little doubt about the identity of the other man, as they were always together when you saw them. Javier Peña. You turned towards him anyway, and his piercing black gaze was fixed on you. You saw his tongue press against his upper lip as he looked you over from head to toe. They had fucked some of the girls at the brothel before, but never you.

Your mind was racing. Two DEA agents who broke into your apartment. You didn't use, you didn't have anything at home that could get you in trouble with the DEA. So whatever they were looking for, it was in vain.

“What are you doing at my place?” you dared to ask, putting on a confident voice.

Steve tilted his head to the side and smiled, before coming to sit across from his coworker, and putting his feet on the table.

“Uh, excuse me? What the fuck you think you’re doing?”

“We want information, cariño. You give it to us, and we leave. Simple as that,” Peña said. 

“I don’t do drugs. I don’t know who gave you my name, but your source is crap.”

Peña turned to Murphy and they smiled at each other. 

“She’s cute”, Steve said.

“Get the fuck out of here now,” you barked, before walking towards the door. You didn't have time to realize what was happening before one of them stood up, grabbed one of your arms with one hand, and your throat with the other. He pushed you against the wall and whispered in your ear “you ain’t going anywhere, baby.”

Eyes wide, you said “what the fuck?”, and looked up at Steve’s face, inches from yours. What scared you the most wasn't his hands on you. It was his eyes. They were icy and unempathetic, and you felt your hairs stand up.

“Come on, Steve. Be nice. Don’t scare her,” Javi sneered.

Steve smiled, in a too carnal way to reassure you, and released you before going to lean against the table. You rubbed your wrist and your mind was racing at 100 miles per hour trying to understand what they were doing there, what they wanted from you.

Javi got up and approached you, and even though you wanted to step back towards the wall, you didn't want to feed them with your fear. So you didn’t move.

“So, cariño. Like I said, we need information. About your side activities with Escobar guys.”

Fuck, how do they know? you thought.

“I don’t know-”

You didn't have time to finish your sentence, when Javi slapped you. You put your hand to your cheek, and this time you no longer held back the fear that twisted your stomach.

“Don’t offend me, cariño. You’re starting to piss me off.”

You lowered your head, heart racing.

“If I tell you about it, I’m dead”, you murmured.

“Well… if you don’t tell us, you’re dead too,” Steve replied with a smirk.

“Yeah? Well you can shoot me then, let’s get it over with.” A surge of courage, or stupidity, pushed you to answer them before you had time to think about it.

Javi slapped you again, with the back of his hand, and your head spun. You heard Steve say “wooooooo”, giggling, as if Javi's attitude announced the start of a good time.

“Stop it, please,” you begged. You looked at them, your eyes now full of tears, and Javi told you, “oh baby… if I were you, I’d dry those tears. It turns Steve on.”

“W…what?”

“Well… I have no doubt you’ll tell us what we wanna know. But I have doubts about the state of you, when we leave.”

You heard Steve laugh again. Javi moved closer to you, his face inches from yours. He smelled of cigarettes and cologne. You had the feeling that you could never forget this scent.

“Tell us about Blackie.”

You shook your head. 

"No?" Javi said. “Mmmm ok. El León? La Quica?”

You lowered your head even more.

"No? Tell us about Gacha, then.” 

You took a step back, and Steve said, “Well, well. Seems like someone knows that asshole”.

“Please”, you begged. “He’ll hurt me.”

“Yeah, well… That’s the problem with dealing with bad guys. Lucky for you, we’re good guys.” 

“What do you wanna know”, you murmured.

“How does this bastard fuck? I’m curious,” Steve asked, and Javi chuckled before stepping aside to let Steve approach.

“You know what, baby? I think we should compare. We should fuck you too, and you’ll tell us who’s doing it better, between him and us.”

Tears came to your eyes again, and Steve added, “Oh, baby. You should have listened to my partner. Tears turn me on.”

He pressed himself against you, his bulge against your pussy, covered only by your panties and a short dress. And damn, he was hard.

“Ok baby, I’ll tell you what. We’re gonna fuck you, and you’ll tell us what we wanna know. If you’re a good girl, we will try not to damage you too much. What do you think about that?"

Without waiting for your answer, he turned to Javi, and said, “That seems like a reasonable offer, right?”

“Shit, yeah. Couldn’t be nicer.” He took off his leather jacket and placed it on the back of the chair, as if what was happening right now was the most natural thing in the world.

Steve turned to you again and saw your eyes lost in the void. A tear running down your cheek. Taking your chin in his hand, he turned your face to the side, before licking away your tear.

“Delicious”, he smirked. “I wonder if your pussy tastes as good.”

He readjusted the bulge in his jeans.

“Ok baby, all this seduction was nice, but we gotta get our dicks wet. How do you wanna fuck this one, Javi?”

“Wanna bang her a little on the table. Wanna see if her pussy’s worth it. Tight enough to feel something when I fuck it, with all the cocks she took, you know?” 

“Ok baby, you heard the agent? Go bend over, and spread those legs.”

You tried to get out of his grip, but of course he was too strong for you. He grabbed your forearms and pulled you towards the table, before pushing you forward against it. Javi positioned himself behind you and kicked one of your legs apart before pulling your dress up to your waist. He held your chest pressed against the table with one hand, while with the other he unzipped his jeans and took out his cock. He brushed it against your folds after tearing your panties.

“She wet?”, Steve asked.

“Not yet. She will be. Come on cariño, imagine I’m one of your clients. But instead of getting paid, you stay alive. And you get a good fuck by two fat cocks.”

He rubbed the head of his cock along your folds, and you could feel it was long and thick.

“Come on cariño, don’t wanna tear you apart.” He leaned into you, his torso pressed against your back, and grabbed your hair in his fist. “Don’t play shy, tonight you’ll gladly bounce on our cocks, I promise.” He was still sliding his cock against you, gently, and you felt your body react. And somehow, you were grateful for it.

“That’s it, soak me. This pussy wanna get fucked. And you know it”, he said in your ear, as he now pressed his cock at your entrance, pushing it in slightly. Steve walked over to the table and looked at you, your cheek pressed against the wood.

“That’s it, baby, be a good girl”, he said.

Javi thrusted in slowly, spreading your walls.

“Oh fuck, she’s tight”, he growled.

Steve caressed your cheek, and mocked “oh baby… No more tears for me? The slut’s starting to enjoy this, Javi.” He readjusted himself again.

“Of course she does. What’s better than a big cock in a tight pussy?”

He was fucking you slowly, giving your pussy time to get used to his size, his fist still clenching your hair. You heard him breathing loudly against your ear and you couldn’t help but get turned on by the way he was fucking you. He was good at it. Much better than most of your clients. And for the moment, you didn't even think about Gacha anymore, and what they expected from you.

He pulled out of you slowly, and said “ok, your turn Steve. Taste that cunt, man.”

Steve grabbed your arm and turned you around, your ass on the edge of the table.

“Lie still, baby.”

He spread your legs and told Javi “fuck, look at that. The whore’s drippin’.”

He knelt down and dove between your thighs, spreading your folds with his hands, his tongue lapping from your hole to your clit.

“Spread them more for me, baby. Put your feet on the table.”

You were turned on, and you did as he said, not even trying to fight anymore. His tongue now buried in your pussy, you heard him moan and you guessed from the friction of his shoulder against you that he was jerking off. You tried to stop yourself from grabbing his head in your hands to press him against you, not realizing that you were undulating your hips to the rhythm of his tongue.

“She’s fucking moaning... Come on cariño, moan on my cock now”, Javi urged you, pressing his cock against your lips. You opened them without thinking, letting him sink into your mouth. You felt your taste on him, mixed with his precum, and fuck, that was good.

Steve's tongue left your hole and moved up to your clit, placing his lips around it and circling around with the tip of his tongue. He released his cock and pushed two fingers into your pussy. You were so wet that he immediately added a third, making you groan against Javi’s cock.

“Make her come”, he said. “Wanna fuck that cunt again.”

When you came on Steve's tongue, Javi pushed himself all the way down your throat and held you against him until your moans stopped, making you choke on it, praising you with some “there it is, look at that… cuming on your tongue and choking on my cock.” You caught your breath with relief when he pulled out. Just before getting up, Steve slapped your pussy, making you jump, and spat on your clit, running his thumb over it one last time. The overstimulation made you shiver.

Javi settled himself between your thighs, and he rested his cock against your folds, his balls against the groove of your ass.

“You’re soaked. You get off like that when Gacha’s fucking you?”

He slid his shaft against your folds, waiting for your response. Seeing that you didn't answer, he slapped your clit, making you gasp.

“No! Fuck… No I don’t.”

“Tell me, cariño, why is that? He got a small dick?”

You sighed, and replied “yeah.”

“Mmm, I was sure of it. You got to have a small dick to need to compensate with a fucking bazooka.” He sank in one go, hitting the bottom, and you said “oh god!”. His hands tight on your thighs, he fucked you quickly, not giving you time to get used to it. Steve came over and asked if you had any whiskey.

“What?”

“Whiskey??”

“The fuck…. in the kitchen cabinet.”

He brought the bottle back and took a sip from the neck before spilling some on your breasts, bouncing to the rhythm of Javi’s hips. This made him laugh, and Javi leaned down to lick your alcohol covered tits, buried deep in your pussy, before fucking you again. You had difficulty resisting the urge to slide your fingers through his brown curls.

“Give me that bottle, Steve. And maybe we should handcuff her.”

“Nah… I like it when they fight a little.”

Javi snickered as he grabbed the bottle, and again you felt fear grip you. Why would they handcuff you? He took a sip too, before pulling out of you. “I think we can make this cheap whiskey taste better,” he said, then pressed the bottle against your entrance.

“No! No, wait!!!”

"Shut up. If you can take my cock, you can take it. For your safety I’ll be gentle.” You heard Steve laugh, as Javi pushed it in, while rotating your clit under his thumb.

“No, please, stop it!”

You didn't see the slap coming. Just heard the thud, and felt your cheek burn.

“Shut up,” he said, “Don’t make us repeat it.”

Just after slapping you, Steve grabbed your wrists in his hands, and positioned himself behind your head, on the other side of the table, facing Javi.

“Fuck her with it, Javi, I’ve got her.”

Javi slid the bottle further, continuing to stroke your clit with his thumb.

“Come on, cariño. Squeeze that bottle, cum on it. I know you can do it.”

You had encountered perverted clients before, but never to the point where they wanted to fuck you with a bottle. Despite the worry that he might hurt you, you forced yourself to relax, to make it easier. His thumb was helping you, too.

“Open your mouth, baby”, asked Steve.

You opened, and he spit in it. “Good girl,” he said, stroking your chin as you swallowed his saliva.

“How is she takin’ it?”

“Like a pro,” Javi laughed, and added, “well, she is, right?”

He tilted the bottle to pour some whiskey into your pussy, before removing it and sticking his tongue in your core, drinking the mixture of alcohol and wetness. The taste on his tongue was driving him crazy.

“Oh my god…Fuck”, you stammered. He kept licking, thirsty, starved, going down to your ass, where the whiskey had spilled.

Then he slid back the bottle in you, his thumb back on your clit, and you felt a new orgasm coming, already built by his tongue. You didn’t even try to hold it back, letting Javi’s thumb work your clit until you came all over the bottle.

“Fuck, look at that Steve! The whore is filling the bottle!”

He removed the bottle and took a sip, then passed it to Steve. He licked it before placing the bottle against his lips and drinking from it too.

“Way cheaper, thanks, baby,” he added, patting your cheek.

The degradation made you blush.

“Okay, remember I told you that soon you’d be bouncing on our cocks? Couch, now.” Javi grabbed your arm and led you to the couch where he sat down.

“Ride me. Wanna fill that pussy.”

You straddled him and took his cock in your hand, before gently impaling yourself on it.

“Oh fuck,” you said.

“Stop whining. Bounce on it now,” he said, and spanked you.

Your hands placed on his shoulders for support, you sank onto his cock, helped by his hands gripping your buttocks with each movement, then let you fall on his dick. Each time, he hit the bottom, and the pleasure mixed with the pain of his cock sinking too far.

Steve walked over, cock in his hand, and said, “time to fuck that mouth, baby.”

You slowed down the pace on Javi's cock so you could take Steve in your mouth, undulating your hips against Javi, and rubbing your clit against him.

Steve slid his cock into your mouth. It was slightly thicker than Javi’s, and your lips were barely able to take him in. You looked up at him as you let him set his pace. His icy gaze hadn't completely disappeared, and you told yourself that this man would be capable of destroying you while smiling, if he decided.

“Fuck, what a sight,” Javi said. “You’re pretty, cariño. I can't believe you let a guy like Gacha fuck you. Such a waste."

Your clit was still rubbing against Javi, and you came the third time, squeezing his cock with each spasm, your mouth full of Steve’s shaft.

“Fuck… this cunt’s squeezin’ me so fuckin’ hard… ah fuck!!” he spilled his cum in you, while your walls were still contracting. You had barely finished cumming when Steve pulled out of your mouth and grabbed your arm, dragging you to the table and bending you over it. 

“Now, be good and take it”, he said, thrusting in immediately, in a slow powerful push, hands digging into your hips.

​“Oh fuck you’re right, she’s so tight. You often get fucked by two guys?”

“No.. No I don’t.”

“That’s… fuck… a fuckin’… shame.”

He cut off each word with a movement of his hips where he thrusted into you ever harder.

“There’s nothing better than the feeling of a pussy already filled with cum.” He grunted every time he hit the bottom, and you were barely able to keep yourself on the table. Each thrust threw you forward, and each time he gripped harder to thrust deeper in your pussy.

You had difficulty standing on your legs, the feeling of being reduced to a doll was amplified by your weak legs, like cotton.

He forced you to turn your head to the side to look at him and said “look at me, baby. You look at me when I’m ruining your cunt.”

You tried to hold on to the edge of the table to control the movements as much as possible but he didn't give you any respite, pounding your pussy incessantly.

“Gonna fill you too…Shit. Gonna fill that fuckin’ slut cunt.”

He grunted, and thrusted in one last time, freezing deep inside your pussy, and you felt warm trickles of cum lining your walls. You finally relaxed against the table, waiting for him to finish cumming, releasing the pressure of your fingers on the wood. 

He pulled out, spanked you and chuckled. He grabbed the bottle of whiskey and took another sip before passing it to Javi who had moved closer to the table. He then handed it to you, saying, “drink, cariño.”

“You’re fuckin’ twisted....” 

You drank, and they laughed. 

“Okay, baby. It was fun. Now tell us about Gacha. Give us all the info. Unless you want a second round? We didn’t fuck you with our guns, yet,” Steve said, grabbing his revolver. 

His icy gaze was back.

********************

Thank you for reading 🙏

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated ❤️

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#narcos #javier pena narcos #narcos fic #narcos fanfiction #javier pena #javi p #pedro pascal characters #javi x reader #javi fanfic #javi pena #javier peña #javier pena x reader #steve murphy #steve murphy x reader #steve murphy x you #steve murphy fanfiction #steve murphy narcos #friends of juice collective #pedro pascal #steve x reader x javi #steve x reader x javier #steve murphy x reader x javier pena #steve murphy x reader x javi pena #stavier #boyd holbrook

[alexa-fika]

Just imagining cat child being a zoan cat type she loves napping in the sun(or cuddling against ace or marco) she would rather die than admit that she loves head pats.

When the crew gets to rowdy she just goes to nap next to pops.

Whenever they run into trouble on islands Ace is grinning before letting yn go and attack, because she's so tiny. She just bites the ankles

I think she'd get the nickname "ankle bitter"

Apawling Cattitude (Whitebeard pirates x f!Cat!child Reader)

A/N See what I did there 🐈 im so funny and goofy, anyhow I COOKED HERE, just pure cooked down below, especially on that ankle biter part 😎

Here Reader is replaced by Dokucha as place holder which stands for reader in japanese

Dividers by @/saradika

“Brother Marco, are you done yet?” the young child groans, lounging in one of his examining tables

“Not yet; there are still a few things I need to finish up,” Marco responds without even turning his head around

“I’m cold,” she whines

“There’s a storm outside, so I can’t warm up in the sun, and Ace fell asleep while eating again; you're the only source of heat around.”

He sighs, turning around on his chair and picking up the child from the table, putting them on his lap, and turning back around to his paper

“There, now will you let me finish these papers?”

She smiles, cuddling up to him and closing her eyes, basking in warmth

“You’re so warm, Brother Marco.”

“Yes, yes, I know, but you aren’t making my job easier.” He says as he works on finishing his papers, his actions betraying his words as he begins petting her head, scratching behind her ears

She hums, letting a loud purring sound at the sensation, leaning closer to him

He lets out a snicker at the sound

“Why are you laughing?” She mumbles

“Nothing.” He mumbles before continuing to scratch behind her ears

“I just remembered a conversation in which you said you did not fold at being petted,” he said with a chuckle

“Ten minutes ago, to be specific, if I am not mistaken.”

She jumps up at that, a frown on her young face

“I’ll have you know you are mistaken! I do not fold at something such as pets; I am not some stray cat!”

He raises his eyebrow

“Then, could you explain the purring I heard just a moment ago?”

“Yeah, you need to get your hearing checked.”

“Did you forget about my devil fruit?”

“Must be malfunctioning 'cause there is something wrong with em.”

“You’re such a brat; just admit you enjoy being petted.”

“Hmph,” she scoffed, jumping off his lap

“I'm going to go see if Brother Ace woke up; maybe his ears will be working better than yours, Brother Marco.”

He smiles, watching the child go, leaning his head on his hand

“Do come back if you want more,” he calls out

“Shut up!”

He snickers under his breath but says nothing else as she storms off

Tiny footsteps could be heard hitting against the boards of the Moby dick as Dokucha hurriedly made it to the mess hall, looking for her freckled brother, spotting the rambunctious man over in one of the tables

“Brother Ace, you’re up!” She hollered

Ace, sitting down in one of the tables with the rest of the brothers, quickly wolfs down his food at the sound of the voice

“What’s up?” He asks as he sees his sister approaching, raising an eyebrow

She stretches her hands towards him, opening and closing her hands

He chuckles at the motion before grabbing her and picking her up, placing her on his lap

“What is it, kitty cat?” He teases

“Nothing,” she smiles, cuddling up to him and his heightened warmth

“Sure.” He chuckles, rubbing her ears gently as they are on his hands

“Then why the sudden rush to see me?”

“Brother Marco was being mean, and I was cold,” she mumbles

He chuckles at the small girls voice

“Oh was he? You mean your kitty purr didn’t work on him?”

“I don’t purr!” She said once again, jumping up, glaring at him

“Hah, really?!” he gasps in fake surprise

“Could have sworn I heard it, din’t you, Thatch?” he asked with a grin, looking at his brother, who was putting some plates down on the table

Thatch chuckles, shaking his head with a grin

“I did hear a small purr, yes.”

She pouts about to tell them off when one of the tables when up in an uproar; by the look of it, one of her brothers had started a drinking competition once again

She sighed, jumping off Ace’s lap and continuing on her way to find a place to nap in peace

Whitebeard hums as he hears soft knocking at the door of his chambers

“Come in.”

“Papaw!” She whines, climbing her way into his bed

He chuckles as she climbs all over his bed

“Gurararara” he laughs scratching her head.

“What is it? Is there something you need?”

“Mess hall is too noisy; I wanna nap,” she said, cuddling into his chest with a smile, sighing in relief

“There,There .” He said strokinb her hair as she cuddles into his chest, his own soft smile growing as he looks down at his little one

“Sleep here for now, brats know to keep it down around here”

“Thank you, Papaw”

“Make sure to sleep well.”

Dokucha now sat on top of ace’s shoulders, leaning her face and hands on top of his head as they walked

“What are we looking for again?”

“Izou left ahead of us to intercept the guys we were after; we are his backup,” he answered as he briskly walked through the grassy field

“I see him. Okay, ankle biter, you’re up,” he said, grabbing the girl from his shoulders and putting her on the ground, kneeling down on the ground next to her

“See the guy with the red shirt? He’s a long-distance sniper; I need you to take him out while I go help Izou with the melee fighters.”

She grins, her two incisors poking out of her mouth as she did

“Bite?” she said, looking at her brother, waiting for permission

“Yes, you can bite; go get ’em.”

She grins, shifting into her cat form and running closer to the guy; once close enough, she began prowling, silently approaching the guy until she was right next to them, at which point she pounced on them, making quick work of them, removing their going and easily gaining a surrender

She shifted into her human form, grinning as she kneeled on the now fainted man, chuckling as she watched her brothers make quick work of the rest of the enemies

“Impressive.” Izou praised her, approaching the girl, Ace following behind him, looking down at the man she had incapacitated.

“You’re getting better at that,” he grins, rubbing her head

She gives him a toothy grin in response, purring at the affection

As a reward for her hard work, Izou decided not to comment on the very obvious purring coming out from her as he continued rubbing her head , her ears tilting and twitching as she enjoyed her hard-earned pampering

That scene where Dokucha was kneeling on top of the guy, I was thinking of that one scene where young shanks was doing the same, eating chocolate (?)

Shanks really be stealing hearts since back then, I ‘ll take 1000 chapters on Roger pirates, Thank you < 3

Taglist:

@imaginarydreams

@amethystviolin

@h0n3y-l3m0n05

#one piece x reader #one piece #one piece imagine #one piece fluff #one piece x child!reader #ace x y/n #portgas ace x reader #ace x you #ace x reader #portgas d ace x reader #thatch x reader #izou x reader #marco x reader #marco one piece #one piece marco #marco the phoenix x reader #marco the phoenix #whitebeard pirates x child!reader #whitebeard pirates x reader #op whitebeard #whitebeard x reader #whitebeard crew #whitebeard pirates #whitebeard one piece

[mooshywrites]

Something Borrowed, Something New

Astarion x Reader, Astarion x Female!tav

Masterlist

Art commissions

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─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

A/N - i just finished my play through of my astarion run and to say i feel hollow about the ending is SUCH an understatement. So since the game doesn’t have the storage space to give me a slice of life simulator with my favorite vampire, then ive decided to make one myself ~

Word count - 1.6K

Warnings - N/A ~ sickly sweet fluff, minor spoilers, baby’s first blurb

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

“My darling, if you keep your nose buried in those books, your life is going to pass before your eyes.”

The gentle tease brought your wandering tiefling mind hurtling back to earth. In truth, you hadn’t even been reading, the words in front of you becoming a mess of blurry text and complicated theories. You lifted your gaze to meet the source of the tease, the entire reason behind your recent studies.

“It’s an important book, Astarion. The shopkeep said this book has anything and everything anyone knows about vampires.” Your lips took on a slight smile as the exasperation in your voice lifted, “Or do you want to spend the rest of your life trying to remember what the sun feels like.”

Astarion rolled his eyes, leaning back against the plush chair and crossing his arms, “That shopkeep of yours is a con-man. If there was a cure to being what I am, it wouldn’t be in some silly book.”

The elf softened his tone as he saw the way his lover’s shoulders dropped, knowing it wasn’t fair to discredit any of her attempts at curing his… affliction. “You’re going to make yourself sick if you don’t at least attempt to sleep, darling.”

You allowed yourself a dramatic sigh as the book slipped out of your hands, being gently taken by the white-haired thief. You knew he was right, knew that there was no more information to glean from this book, especially not while your eyes drooped and your mind grew foggy. As much as you hated giving Astarion the pleasure of being right, and you did hate it, you were exhausted. Exhausted and feeling utterly hopeless at your task

”You may be right.” You said in a small voice, “It would be much to easy to open a book and find a spell to let a vampire spawn walk in the sunlight”

The cushion you sat upon dipped slightly, gentle arms pulling you into a comforting embrace.

“You know how uncomfortable seeing you in pain makes me, pet” Astarion murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple.

”I just want to find a cure already” You protested, “A spell, a potion, a demon contract I can sign to get you under that god-forsaken ball of fire again. You would think that taking down a hoard of ilithid would make any challenge look like a stroll through the woods.” Your words were tense and harsh, a tone you immediately regretted as you felt the pale elf beside you stiffen against it.

“You must have patience, my darling. It’s only been a couple of years since we’ve began this journey.” His fingers poked into your side teasingly, earning a small laugh. “We do have forever, you know.

“Mmhm, forever with a dramatic vampire who wants to go adventuring for a cure but hates being away from his precious comforts.” You teased, looking back up at him.

”Oh, please.” Astarion tutted disapprovingly. “You’d think after a couple centuries of servitude and then saving the world would earn a man the rights to a comfort or two.”

Your sleepy head found a comfortable place in the crook of the vampires neck, the rest of you leaning into his cool touch. “Well if you’re so attached to them, maybe we should just stay here and find a way to enjoy your ‘comfort or two.”

Silence fell over the small room in the even tinier inn. You were uncomfortably aware of the lack of snide remark back from your partner. With Astarion, silence was always an abnormality.

”Or somewhere bigger.” You added jokingly, your voice coming out as an unsure whisper.

You weren’t sure about how Astarion felt about settling down. In truth, it hadn’t come up in the time you’d been together so far. Most of your talks were about next steps, new theories, different wizards to contact with questions about Astarion’s condition. Neither of you had been brave enough to talk about the life you might both lead if Astarion was able to live normally again. Neither brave enough to face the disappointment of that future being possibly impossible. But the more you adventured, the more days spent sleeping in one Inn after another, you felt the longing to put down roots more and more every day.

You bit your lip, hands nervously picking at nails already picked to the short. Wouldn’t Astarion find that kind of thinking entirely selfish? How could you ask him to sacrifice further potential freedom?

You were brought back to your thoughts again as Astarion’s slender hand tilted your chin towards his gaze. The relief that filled you as you saw his knowing smile was probably laughable, the crinkles next to his eyes as he grinned dissipating what was left of your anxiety. What did it matter where you were and what you were doing or where your head lay when daylight started to seem into the sky? It’s the person you awoke beside that’s important.

”What thoughts fill those pretty head of yours?” Astarion teased. Peering at your forehead as he were trying to see the physical thoughts.

”Oh, just thinking of what a nightmare you will be when we have a place of our own after this mess.” You retorted, smiling, pulling your best impersonation of the man next to you “Oh, not there, darling. Those drapes simply must be a hair to the left. And who on earth did this border? Aht, no one in this town can embroider properly.” You flourished your hands dramatically, putting on a rather good play of the vampire.

”I don’t sound a thing like that, love.” He replied, feigning offense. “Besides, I would be right to say that. Not a soul knows the right way to handle a needle and thread. I suppose I’ll have to take up the position, myself.”

“You? Start a shop and make honest money?” You scoffed, fighting the urge to roll your eyes.

“Well why couldn’t I?” The familiar whiny tone you knew and loved began creeping back into his voice. “How much could a shop possibly cost? I would create marvels of woven artistry and you could do… well… everything else.” He finished certainly.

”That seems much too boring for someone like you, Astarion.” He couldn’t possibly be serious about this. Astarion? A shopkeep? He was rather skilled with fabrics, but would he be satisfied with such a simple life?

”Boring sounds… nice.” Astarion replied simply, his words becoming soft and serious. “Maybe sunlight isn’t worth watching the years roll by before me.”

Your breath stilled as you faced him.

“You… You want to settle down?” You asked.

Astarion scoffed, the humor settling back into his tone. “Settle down? I simply offered staying in one place for more than a few nights. You excite to easily, my darling.”

You laughed, a little breathlessly, thankful for the end of the serious moment. Even now, you couldn’t always wrap your mind around Astarion’s. Whether he was joking or now, what he really wanted in the end. It somehow always seemed a mystery right outside of your grasp.

”What would you say to that, however?” Astarion prodded. “If I told you that I wanted to… well, uhm… settle down?”

You paused for a moment, eyes narrowing as you searched his red irises.

“I would wonder if you’ve been replaced by a doppelgänger.” You replied accusingly.

“Well” he sighed, exasperated. “ Then write me down as a doppelgänger, I’d like to live in a little house with a shop downstairs filled with my own creations. To be horribly and utterly… domestic.”

You couldn’t help the wide smile that crawled across your face. The hope and excitement that filled your face.

”Oh don’t look at me like that!” Astarion complained, giving you a look of mock horror. “You look as if I just told you that I’ve given up a life of debauchery.”

You shrugged, grinning wickedly, “Is that not what you’re saying, Astarion?”

”No, of course not, darling.” He replied defiantly. “I’m just saying that I’m going to find a way to buy the next empty building we see and see how many people can be manipulated into buying my creations.”

”Lucky for you, Baldur’s Gate is within a day's travel. You may have to put your coin where your sinful mouth is.” You said with finality, truly thinking you were calling his bluff.”

“It’s settled then.” He smirked, leaning in to place a searing kiss against your unexpecting lips. You felt his arms snake further around you and… past you?

With difficulty, you willed yourself to pull away from the kiss, looking behind yourself questioningly. ”What are you-“ You paused, seeing the gold rimmed vase Astarion now had in his grasp.”

”It’s our something borrowed.” He shrugged. “For our new shop.”

You couldn’t hold back the almost overly dramatic eye roll. “First, love, that’s not borrowing, that’s stealing and two…” You felt your cheeks heat. “The phrase ‘something borrowed, something new’ is for wedding’s. Not for new shops and homes.”

”Oh, well… we should probably do that too.” Astarion said plainly, scooping you up to carry you to the bed not a stone’s toss away.

You gasped, hitting his chest gentle and putting on your best glare. “That is not how you propose to a woman you cur.”

Astarion chuckled as he placed you on the bed, climbing under the blankets with you. “You can lecture me about that tomorrow, darling. For now-“ He brushed his lips against yours, a sweet and loving kiss, “You simply must get some sleep. How else will we go shopping for your ‘something new’ tomorrow?”

You smiled as you leaned into his touch, snuggling against his chest. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of a response, he’d probably hear your excitement for the future through your words and not believe your chiding anyways. you were thankful for the ability to hide your face against him, your fingers tracing lazy circles along his chest,

If it weren’t for the gentle pale reds and purples that began to chase away the deep blue night, you could’ve stayed awake grinning like that forever.

#astarion x reader #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate astarion #astarion #astarion x you #astarion x female tav #astarion fanfic #astarion fic #astarion fluff #fluff #baldurs gate tav #astarion x dark urge #astarion x tav

[moonstruckme]

have a bonfire - send a character + a trope (one bed, fake dating, etc.) and I’ll write a drabble

i’m such a sucker for a fake dating trope, could i request a drabble with eddie or tasm!peter? (i feel like out of all of the boyfriends they are the most likely to do it lol) <3

Thanks for requesting lovely!

Eddie Munson x fem!reader ♡ 686 words

You drop Eddie’s hand as soon as you’re around the corner. “Baby?” your voice comes out disgusted, blissfully steady. “That’s what you’re going with?”

“I don’t have a shit ton of practice being couple-y,” he replies, huffy. “Sorry if I didn’t have time to whip out my domestic dictionary.”

You shrug. “Guess I just expected a little more creativity from you.” He does spend most of his time fucking around with chords and making up stories involving dragons and mages. 

You cross your arms, walking with a couple of feet between you and your part-time boyfriend now that there’s no one around to see. Eddie turns to look at you, his hair falling over his shoulder. “You like it.” 

He’s teasing, you think. He can’t possibly know that. But your face heats and you can’t look up from the sidewalk, because there had been an undeniable commotion in your stomach when Eddie had said in front of everyone, voice smooth and sweet as iced tea, You getting tired, baby? I’m about ready to head out.

It had been a warm sort of commotion, more bees than butterflies, buzzing all the way from the pit of your stomach up into your brain, where they’ve stayed, humming quietly even now. 

You try to pass your flustering off as pique, rolling your eyes and making sure Eddie sees. “It’s infantilizing,” you say. “I hate when guys call girls that, it’s so weird. I’m not a literal baby.” 

“Could’ve fooled me.” You look over, and Eddie’s grinning at you now, laying it thick on in the way he has been all night, except that was for show and this appears to be just for you. With how wobbly it makes your limbs feel, you don’t know how much more of it you can take. “You seemed a lot like a baby, the way you let me open every door for you all day and were just about falling asleep on my shoulder a couple of minutes ago.” 

And just like that, the happy buzzing quiet. Real indignation sparks to life in your chest. “I thought you were just being chivalrous for a minute there, but I figured that was ridiculous.” For a second, Eddie looks confused. “And anyway,” you go on, “it’s not like you were any better. I thought I was gonna have to pry your hand off my waist if you got any more comfortable.” 

“You still might have to,” he teases, reaching around your side to squeeze at that favored spot. Your vexation breaks up as a laugh jostles out of you, and you try to move away but Eddie doesn’t let you get far, pulling you roughly against his side. 

Any more of this, and you’ll have to get a tattoo of his handprint on your waist with Eddie’s spot written inside. It’ll be tasteless and suggestive, and you know Eddie will laugh for days. 

“I’ve got to find something equally punishing for you now,” you say. “How do you feel about sweetpea?” 

Eddie rolls his eyes. 

“No? Honeyboo?” 

“You know—” 

“Pookie?” 

“—I actually don’t care what you—” 

“Oh, I know! Stud muffin.” 

“Would you shut up?” Eddie squeezes you around the middle again, cutting you off with your own giggles. He doesn’t look nearly as embarrassed as you’d like, still grinning down at you like you’re a source of endless amusement. “Stud muffin actually isn’t bad, but I don’t give a shit what you call me, so long as it’s you.” 

Some of your playfulness fizzles out, and he smirks at what he takes for your dissatisfaction, stopping and grasping your upper arms to look you in the eye. The metal of his rings are cool on your skin. “Got that, baby?” he asks, stretching the endearment out long and teasing.

It takes you a second to react, grateful for Eddie’s hands on your arms as you try to remember how to balance on your own. Once you do, you scoff, ripping out of his grasp and continuing ahead. “Fuck you,” you say. 

Eddie all but skips to catch up to you. “Oh, you wish.” 

#mae's 5k #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x self insert #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fluff #fake dating #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson scenario #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson one shot #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things 4 #stranger things x reader

[01zfan]

anything 4 u pt. 2 | j. sc

boyfriend!sungchan x fem reader | 5k words

omg this counts as an ooc fic almost i think…sungchan please get mad at meeeee…no smut (leaving that for the next part if you guys want it hehe) BUT it is a little suggestive

contains: drinking, parties, slight toxic behavior?

anything for you: part one | part two

sungchan feels his phone vibrate next to his head. part of his mind is still asleep, he’s convinced what he’s hearing is a dream. but when the ringing and vibration persists, sungchan turns completely to his side of the bed to haphazardly reach towards the source of the sound. when sungchan lifts his head he sees 3:42 staring back at him in red digital numbers and has to squint to make sure it’s real. 

when he grabs your phone he has to squeeze his eyes shut a few times to make sure he’s seeing everything correctly. your caller ID and contact pic he has set up for you take up his whole phone is very real. sungchan quickly turns to your side of the bed, running his hand over your spot in the dark to only find you missing, a small crater in the mattress left behind. instantly sungchan sits up in the bed, feet pressing into the ground as he accepts your call.

“hello? hello?” the speaker on sungchan’s phone is almost blown out as you yell into his ear. he pulls the phone away for a second before bringing it back. “—i told you he’d answer” you yelled on the other side of the line.

sungchan looked to the time again, sighing heavily and pinching the bridge of his nose. he suppressed all of his anger, speaking through clenched teeth when you finished talking. 

“where are you?” he asked.

your laugh crackling through the speakers told sungchan all he needed to know. he remembered the conversation you two had only a few hours ago about that party. sungchan remembers telling you he couldn’t go because he had work in the morning, and he remembers telling you that you shouldn’t go either. sungchan also remembers you agreeing, and you talking about how tired you were before falling asleep first. so when sungchan heard you laugh and he heard the loud music behind you he had to close his eyes as he tried to remain calm. the fingers that pinched the bridge of his nose went to his temples, trying to massage out his incoming stress migraine. 

“at the party.” you said simply.

you could barely hear sungchan’s quiet voice over the party that raged around you. trying to find a secluded quiet place for a phone call was impossible, the closest you could get to having a private conversation was going to a dark corner and plugging your other ear with your finger.

“the one i told you not to go to?” sungchan asked.

even if he attempted to keep his voice even, you could hear the annoyance lined in his words. the alcohol in your system that made you want to call your boyfriend only made you mad now, anger shot through your body as you dissected sungchan’s every word. your hand plugging your ear dropped to your hip and you narrowed your eyes, as if sungchan was right there in front of you. you even tilted your head in faux confusion as you held the receiver closer to your face.

“you don’t get to tell me what to do.” you said.

hearing sungchan’s irritated sigh on the other end of the line only made you more upset. maybe you imagined it in your drunken state, how upset he sounded on the other end of the line. but being treated with the brief silences from sungchan made you feel irate. the alcohol in your system made your hairs stand on end.

sungchan was still silent on the other side, trying to figure out how to approach the situation.

“okay.” you can practically hear sungchan rubbing his temple as he lets out another sigh. “just send me your location.” he says.

he wanted to come and take you away from the fun. he wanted to take you away from the loud music and the puking teenagers and whatever that was in the corner next to your feet. after you were so nice to call him in the middle of the night to tell him about the great time you were having. what a fucking buzzkill.

“no.” you say, crossing your arms. 

sungchan is quiet on the other end of the line. you imagine him sitting in the dark, phone pulled away from his ear as he tries to collect himself. if he wasn’t so high-strung and let loose after work like you did he wouldn’t be so irritable all the damn time. before you can tell him this, your thoughts are cut short when you hear him vexed on the other side of the line.

“i’m not in the fucking mood for this.” 

you can’t stop your eyes from widening. if you weren’t so drunk, you would’ve played off of his annoyance by throwing a joke at him, or you would’ve submitted and sent your location while still being on the phone. but you were three shots past your limit and you saw your friends coming up to you with more, and the loud energetic music around you made your adrenaline rush. the shock from sungchan's words turned into fire, and the short fuse you had was lit. the alcohol was running through you. as you tried to mirror sungchan by using the silence as a buffer to control your anger you were getting closer and closer to anger.

when you tried to summon what little self control you had left, sungchan cursing at you rings in your ears. the anger bounces off the walls of the party, louder than the music everyone dances to. so your self control is wasted as you draw your lips to your teeth to make sure all of your words are punctuated for your boyfriend.

“fuck you sungchan.” you seethe.

sungchan hears you curse at him and he can’t get a word out before the call drops. he hears the two defiant beeps of you hanging up, and sungchan keeps his phone to his face from the pure shock. the massaging did nothing as he feels the pulsing behind his eyes, brought on from working constantly and the headache he calls his girlfriend. he stays like that for a minute, mouth agape as he tries to figure out what just happened. the irrational anger makes sungchan almost shake, he lets out a laugh to himself in his dark room as everything sinks in.

sungchan still laughs to himself as he pulls his phone away to see the time. the phone brightness blinds sungchan, and your smile on his lockscreen illuminates his face. he lets out a sigh when he sees the time, how late he’s up because of you. he just got cursed out by the smiling cute girl on his phone. you are a pain in his ass, the reason for the blossoming migraine behind his eyes, and the love of his life—it’s hard to put it into words. if sungchan had to choose between all the riches in the world or having you listen to him, you’d be beside him in bed right now. 

his anger and annoyance almost makes him roll over and go back to sleep. sungchan wishes he had the ability to be mean to you, to make you figure out your way back home. you’re more than capable, and you arguably deserve it. he did try it, laying his head back on his pillow and bringing his covers up to his chin in a huff. 

“if she found a way to get there, she can find her way back.” sungchan whispered to himself.

it almost worked. sungchan swore his words almost worked before he turned back to check the time on his digital clock. he couldn’t stop himself from imagining you walking around lost and worried, with a dead phone and a boyfriend that wasn’t there for you. 

if she found a way to get there, she can find her way back.

sungchan turned on his back to face the ceiling, squeezing his eyes shut one more time to try and go to sleep. he turned to your side of the bed, eyes still shut. when he made the mistake of opening them to see your jostled pillow and you missing he pushed the covers down the bed quickly, letting out a sound of annoyance. 

if she found a way to get there, she can find her way back.

next, sungchan let out a loud groan, all of his frustrations from work and you bubbling to the surface. the whole day was heavy on his shoulders, and now this was too. sungchan knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep, he wasn’t even tired as he threw his legs over the edge of the bed again to stand up. 

“four in the fucking morning.” sungchan says under his breath while running his fingers through his hair.

sungchan is quick navigating his phone, his previously groggy mind is on alert as he looks through your messages. he finds the flier for the party you were at in the attachments. sungchan’s quick fingers press into the glass of his phone as he inputs the location on his navigation app. thirty minutes to get to you in the middle of nowhere. 

sungchan’s anger heats his whole body as he gets dressed. in his haste he only throws a jacket over his shirt and puts on sweatpants over his boxers. he runs his hands through his hair one more time before throwing on a baseball cap backwards, pushing back his bangs so it’s a snug fit. sungchan gets dressed in the dark, trying to not waste anytime to turn on the light. he doesn’t care if his clothes are on backwards or if he looks crazy. he plans to be in and out quickly, not being seen by anyone else but you and your annoying enabling friends. maybe if he’s mad enough maybe he’ll lecture them too. 

as sungchan leaves the bedroom he turns on the living room light. he flinches from the light and instinctually yawns as he shuffles through his apartment. even the anxiety sungchan feels for you being so clearly drunk turns into anger. the argument of you not taking your low tolerance into consideration has been a topic of debate (arguing) between the two of you for as long as he can remember. “i don’t drink to get tipsy. i drink to get drunk.” sungchan felt himself getting even more upset as he recalled your absurd philosophy when it came to drinking. 

his anger made him move fast, so fast that sungchan almost left without his phone. he had to circle back to his bedroom to slip it into the pocket of his sweats. as he was leaving the room he saw your jacket resting on the desk. sungchan swore he felt his eye twitch at the thought of you in the cold without your jacket. he snatches it from the desk and scoffs at your keyring that rests underneath it.

“act first, think later.” sungchan says as he grabs your keys.

he carelessly slams his door as he makes his way down the stairs of the apartment complex. his slides grind on the cement with each long stride, and sungchan clears two steps at a time. he makes his way to his car in the parking lot quickly, and he sees your car sitting pretty in the spot next to his. sungchan imagines you ordered an uber with your friends, none of you were responsible enough to have a designated driver.

sungchan pulls at his door twice but it doesn’t automatically lock.

“nobody is fucking listening to me tonight.” he says while grabbing his keys from his pockets. 

when sungchan can finally get into his car he slams the door, so hard that it causes his vehicle to shake. sungchan is sure he wouldn’t have cared if the window broke from the force, he thinks his anger could make him split the car in half. the only reprieve he gets is the white-knuckle grip he has on the steering wheel as he looks towards the map on his phone. occasionally he tells the robot on his phone to call you—each time you let it ring to your voicemail. sungchan has to bite his tongue to stop himself from saying things he’ll regret. he only jabs the end call button before repeating the process over and over again. 

when his navigation app leads him closer to you, he finds himself at the end of a road that abruptly cuts off. he’s surrounded by parked cars, and sungchan can see people on foot heading down the hill and some people coming back. he’s absolutely sure he’s in the right place, his headlights show people in revealing clothes excited as they talk about the party. they pass by his car without a care in the world, and sungchan has to peer over his dashboard to make sure he doesn’t hit anything.

when he finally parks his car and takes the key from the ignition he calls you one last time. sungchan knows there’s no way you’ve come to your senses, or that you’re ready to apologize but he lets his phone ring in the palm of his hand one last time.

“you have reached the voicemail box of—“

before the automated voice can finish, sungchan hangs up. he looks outside one last time, thinking he still had the chance to leave and wait for you at home. maybe you had already left with your friends to go to a different party. sungchan lets all the options float through his head, and he regrets when he was blissfully unaware of the world around him when he was sleeping. he presses his forehead to the steering wheel, mentally preparing for the loud noises of the underground party and ironing his resolve. sungchan breathes deep before letting it out. remain calm he repeats it to himself over and over again. he looks out the passenger side window to follow the crowd that disappears past the hill. 

sungchan undoes his seatbelt and unlocks his door, heading down the hill to follow the music.

“you got this sungchan.”

he repeated that phrase to himself all the way to the party. it was uncomfortable, being outside in the cold with music he didn’t have a taste for playing so loud that he couldn’t hear his own thoughts. all sungchan could think about was how this wasn’t your crowd at all, and this wasn’t the type of music you even liked to listen to. the more he thought about it the angrier he got—he didn’t understand why you were so adamant on going to a party that wasn’t your style at all.

when sungchan looked through the crowd of people he saw you in a huddle with your friends. the same people you see nearly everyday stood off to the side, not even dancing or acknowledging the party that raged on around them. sungchan even saw one of your friends grimace at someone who bumped into her while they were dancing. sungchan felt his face heat up and his hands clenched at his sides. there was no reason for you to be here, no reason for any of your friends to be here either. he recognized all the girls faces, and he knew their attitudes well. when sungchan thought about the fact that you and your friends were here solely because someone told them not to be he found himself pushing through the crowd of people, making a line straight to you. 

you didn’t notice sungchan coming through the crowd. you blamed it on the alcohol, and the riveting conversation you were having with a complete stranger. all you knew was that one second you were ignoring your boyfriends nth call of the night and the next he stood in front of you, interrupting your new friend mid-sentence.

“put that on.” sungchan tossed your jacket to you, and you almost missed it with the drink in your hand. “we’re leaving.”

you look at sungchan standing tall above your friends, the alcohol in your bloodstream makes him appear like a dream in front of you. you can see the boxers he wore to bed peaking over his pair of sweats and his loose hoodie makes his white undershirt visible. he sticks out like a sore thumb, the casual outfit so different from the revealing clothes everyone else wears. he couldn’t be bothered, and you could tell. he didn’t care to keep up the appearance of the sweet doting boyfriend in front of your friends, he didn’t even spare them a second glance as he kept his eyes trained on you. 

the shock of seeing sungchan only lasts a second before you find yourself falling into your role. your friends were confused but you instantly could read sungchan, his hands that were balled up into fists and his tense shoulders. you still stood there relaxed, not moving an inch as your friends started looking between the two of you. you only are only focused on keeping eye contact—burning and intense as you two engaged in the silent battle of who can be more annoyed. you had to resist the urge to lick your lips or look sungchan up and down underneath his stare. you looked past sungchan for a moment to see all the people having fun behind him—that could be you you thought. 

you can feel your friends eyes flicker and wander from the palpable tension. even if your girls were drunk they could feel the thick atmosphere between you both. you feel a moment of sobriety as you think about the hell sungchan probably went through to come and get you. so you break first, smiling and uncrossing your arms as a sign of peace.

“i have an early morning tomorrow anyways.” you still have to maintain some sort of upperhand in the situation. sungchan would just have to understand that you have a reputation to upkeep. you push yourself off the wall and take time hugging each one of your friends. “i’ll catch you guys later.” you smile.

sungchan is still stoic when you turn back around to face him. you let your smile drop when only he can see it, and he makes sure you can see him roll his eyes as he turns around. sungchan doesn’t waste the time to tell your friends goodbye before he’s guiding you the way you came with a hand on your back. 

usually in crowded spaces sungchan would be gentle with his hand, like a suggestion on where you should go. but is hand now was pushy, almost making you collide with a few people. you lightly hit his arm each time, but he still pushed through. he didn’t bother to look down at you, his eyes fixed on the exit. you wish you could be angry, you were well within your rights to be upset at a man essentially pushing you through a crowd of people. but feeling of sungchan’s hand pressing into your back makes you reminiscence, and the strength behind his hand makes you feel light. you find yourself purposefully falling behind just so he can press the pads of his fingers into your back a little harder to move you forward.

once you made it out of the party sungchan lets go of your back. instead of grabbing your hand, or offering to carry you to the car he started walking ahead. your uneasy feet in the heels didn’t stand a chance, and it wasn't long before you fell behind. while trying to catch up you remembered the other person you called about the fun and how he would be helping you right now.

sungchan walks so far in front that you have to yell after him. he wishes the music was loud enough to drown out your voice when you called out to him. 

“taro—”

“you can talk to your brother later.” sungchan interrupts.

sungchan doesn’t turn around as he continues to walk. the last person he wants to be thinking about is shotaro. he just needs silence. he needs silence in this shitty parking lot and he needs silence in the car on the way home. he may even need silence for the rest of the week while he calms himself down.

“you’re not listening—“ you start.

before sungchan knows it, he turns around and closes the distance between your two bodies. he’s so close to you that you can feel the anger coming off of him in waves, and you can hear his heavy breaths. the gentle calming aura of your boyfriend is the complete opposite as he puts up a finger of caution. your wide eyes flicker from sungchan’s finger to his face. in the split second of silence sungchan uses the patience he has left.

“you woke me up in the middle of the night after you told me you weren’t going out. i have to be up for work in four hours and i’m playing your babysitter.” his words are quiet, coming through clenched teeth almost sounding like a hiss.

the moment of satisfaction sungchan feels by bringing you to silence only lasts for a moment. the second you take in his words your eyes widen. you look to his finger again and your own teeth become clenched.

“you think you can just talk to me anyway you want?” you bring your own finger up to him. “get your hand out of my face.” you say.

sungchan suddenly finds out he has no words left for you. the same feeling of amazement comes over him from when you hung up the phone. he lets out a single dry laugh before turning and walking towards the car. you stand there for a moment before he hears you start to walk quickly trying to catch up with him.

“don’t ignore me!” you complain.

sungchan stuffs his hands into his hoodie as he continues to walk.

“jung sungchan, i know you hear me!” you yell after him.

sungchan smiles when he hears the anger in your voice. the silent treatment is actually kind of fun when he’s not on the receiving end. he even laughs to himself when you call him an asshole. when you finally realize it’s no use you’re silent. sungchan twiddles his thumbs in his pockets, enjoying the silent night.

sungchan looks over his shoulder once when he hears you slow down. you no longer look at him, instead your eyes are on your heels as you fumble with the straps.

“my shoes.” you grumble.

sungchan turns fully around to see you trailing dangerously far behind, you are barely stable on your feet in your heels, the uneven terrain and your intoxication only makes everything worse. sungchan stands in place, watching you walk like a newborn deer in the darkness. even your hands are panicked in front of your body to try and give you balance. the thought of making you rough it in your heels flashes through sungchan’s mind, and sungchan feels somewhat at peace at the thought of temporarily putting you through hell. so he closes the distance between the two of you before you can take another step.

when you look up to sungchan he can see the outline of your face and the whites of your eyes. you almost look apologetic from up here, sungchan swears he can see a sorry on your bottom lip before you bite it. sungchan rolls his eyes at your attitude and he hopes you see it. 

when you don’t move, he puts his hand on your bicep. he can see your fingers move by reflex, the jewels embedded into your acrylic nails catch the moonlight. sungchan thinks about how expensive the intricate set was as he lightly pulls at your arm, forcing you to walk a few steps. sungchan can’t stop the satisfied smile as he sees you try to push against his pull to only stumble and almost fall to the ground—the only thing that keeps you upright is the grip he has on your arm. he even hears the surprised sound you make when you realize a beat too late you’re falling.

he knows he’s being evil. sungchan knows it’s not right to mess with you while you’re drunk and stumbling in your heels. but you have messed with sungchan for as long as he could remember. you have also arguably done worse to him—like waking him up in the middle of the night when you know he has work in the morning. even now, when you know you’re wrong you still look at him like he did something awful to you. if you only let a drunk little sorry fall from your lips, one that you could even take back in the morning when you’re sober sungchan would stop being so mean. but you don’t, so sungchan turns on his heel and begins pulling you behind him as he purposely lengthens his strides.

he can hear your feet kicking up rocks as you to stumble to make up for his large steps. he smiles straight forward as he has to pull you to keep up. sungchan doesn’t change his speed, he doesn’t stop walking until you slip your arm from his grasp. 

“you’re going too fast.” you yell.

sungchan turns back to face you. when he takes in your expression and the irritation in your voice he understands why you push his buttons so much. you make it too easy, the alcohol is making you feel everything tenfold. he can see the inability to walk the way you want and your boyfriend being mean nearly frustrate you to tears. 

sungchan knows he must be sick at how the sight before him makes him feel. he feels the satisfaction and something more churn in his stomach as your eyebrows furrow before they soften. when you pull in a deep breath to try and calm yourself, sungchan does the same mockingly. when he tilts his head and taps a finger underneath your chin, you move away from his touch. he can’t hide the smile in his voice when he talks down to you.

“want me to carry you?” he asks.

when you only nod your head sungchan comes close to you. he puts his finger underneath your chin again and this time you let him, forcing eye contact. he can see your pupils shake, how bleary they are from the drinking and how tired you must be. sungchan sees your pout, for the first time in his life he’s mostly unaffected by it.

“just say you’re sorry and i’ll carry you.” sungchan says it simply.

your stubbornness keeps you from apologizing. all you do is shake your head lightly, chin still being held up by sungchan’s fingers.

you don’t know why he’s being so mean to you and you don’t know why you like it so much. the smile sungchan has on his face is mocking, and he looks down at you like you’re stupid. the fake sympathy makes you want to yell at him and it makes you want to fist his sweatshirt and bring him down to you. you look at sungchcan’s lips, his smile turned into a pout that mirrors yours. you have to atleast try to maintain some of your pride. 

“i didn’t do anything wrong.” you mumble.

sungchan sees the way your eyes bounce from his lips to his eyes. he can see the switch that flipped inside of you, how you’re batting your long eyelashes at him. he doesn’t even know if you mean to, but he tsks at you regardless. sungchan doesn’t even think he’s mad anymore, he’s just wants to see how far he can wind you up. he comes closer to your face, so close that his lips ghost over yours. your hands go to his shoulders on instinct, and sungchan sees your face flash in pain as you go to your tippy-toes.

“you sure about that?” sungchan whispers.

he smiles again when you part your lips, and laughs at your closed eyes while you wait for him to kiss you. he can smell the liquor on your breath when you let out a tiny sigh, and he can feel your tightening grip on his shoulders. sungchan looks to your closed eyes then down to your parted lips again. he does the same thing as you and lets out a small whine before laughing. he undoes the grip you have on his shirt and he pulls away from you completely. he sees you open your eyes, and he can see the tears threaten to break past your water line. your eyelashes are already clumping together, and your pout deepens.

“why won’t you kiss me?” you say quietly.

sungchan takes his hand away from your chin but you keep your head tilted towards him. he can see your eyes, red and wet from all your conflicting emotions. sungchan almost feels sorry for you, but then he remembers how peacefully he was sleeping in his bed before you called him. he taps your chin affectionately before he turns around and bends his knees, lowering his body for you.

“because you’re drunk and i’m mad at you.” sungchan says over his shoulder.

you don’t say anything else, but sungchan feels you press your hands to his back as you wrap one of your legs around his waist. sungchan puts his arm around your thigh, and then the other when you regain your balance. when he feels your chest pressed against his back he stands up.

“i’m sorry.” you slur into his ear. 

it’s barely above a whisper, and he’s almost sure you’ll deny the apology when you’re sober. but sungchan takes it, a small smile creeps across his face as he looks for his car. readjusts you on his back, trying to get the best grip he can on your legs. 

“whatever.” sungchan says.

“i’ll make it up to you later.” you say it with a smirk, and sungchan has to stop himself from laughing. when you start licking the shell of sungchan’s ear he has to bend his neck to hide his ear in his shoulder. you only go to his other ear, your breath fanning his skin as you laugh at him.

"i think i like it when you're mean to me." you giggle into his ear.

"you're a freak." sungchan says over his shoulder.

sungchan pulls his keys from his pocket and presses the unlock button. he can already feel you slouching against his body, your head pressed into his shoulder blades as your breath begins to steady. he sighs again when he realizes you’ve fallen asleep, and he grabs your purse before it hits the ground from your weakening grip. sungchan readjusts your sleeping body on his back again as he starts heading towards his car. 

before he can start walking towards his vehicle, he hears someone’s shoes kicking up rocks as they head towards him. it happens too quick, sungchan barely recognizes someone is heading straight for him until the footsteps abruptly stop. sungchan is too busy listening to the cicadas and your light snores to notice the person that’s behind him.

“sungchan?” he freezes in his place, not taking another step towards his car. “what are you doing here?”

“and why is my sister on your back?”

#seriez: anything 4 u #01zfan: sungchan #sungchan smut #riize smut

[bloody-peach]

Eat Me, Drink Me (Hazbin Hotel: Vox x F!Reader smut fic)

(Gif made by me, original image found on google images)

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Now Playing: Muse - Sing for Absolution, Marilyn Manson - Blood Honey

Goodie bag: vaginal sex, drugs (aphrodisiac), vaginal fingering, clit rubbing, drinking, dom Vox, bottom Y/N, vanilla stuff around the end [let me know if i missed anything!]

A/N: Yep, had to make some smut with Vox now, didn't I? Welp, here ya go! I would recommend listening to the recommended songs while reading this, to get into the atmosphere. Headphones required, just for added experience. ENJOY!!

Taglist: @omniuravity @fatgumsurpremacy-remastered @neonvehk

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You left the Hotel, exhausted. You had to deal with Niffty trying to kill new guests, Angel Dust’s bullshit with Cherri Bomb, and Husk drinking his life away on top of all the other duties you had there. But the worst of the worst was Alastor, he always loved to torment you and make you suffer or feel scared. Even now as you walk further away from the building, you could still hear his laugh deep in your mind. At least you were able to leave for the night, but you always felt like someone was watching you. Someone....much more powerful than you.

Vox, the TV Demon, has had his eye on you for some time, ever since he caught you on the hotel’s TV commercial. He remembers pausing the clip when it froze on you and he’d jack off, just imagining of what he could do to you. He was obsessed. And he decided that tonight was the night.

You kept walking when you heard electricity buzzing. You looked and it was just a broken neon sign, but it still left you uncomfortable. You kept walking, but the buzzing came back. You started to quicken your pace to try to escape the noise or the potential source of it, but it just kept following you, even when you started to run. You then run into a brick wall, realizing you must’ve turned a wrong way while you ran. You just turned with your back against the wall, unable to escape. You saw a glowing blue square in the dark along with small blue zaps of electricity spreading through the area. Soon, the thing came closer to reveal it was Vox, the overlord that controlled the masses through the visual media. You had never met him before, but you felt a sense of dread, thinking this was another guy just like Alastor. Once he came close to you, he said, “It’s nice to finally meet you, darlin'.” You sigh in mild annoyance and say, “Look, I just...Alastor already torments me. If you just want to make my life a living hell like he does, then don’t bother. I don’t need another demon doing it too.” You didn’t have anything against him in particular, you were just too stressed out to deal with another demon who wanted to watch you suffer.

Vox’s red eyes flickered with a mix of confusion, then it turned to deep-seated rage. “Alastor...” he snarled. He controlled himself and then looked at you, with a slightly annoyed look in his face. “Is that why you were running? Because of that radio trash?” He put his hands behind his back, and said, “You know I’m not like him, right? I ain’t the type to get off to torturing folks. Well, not much at least. But you’re different.” He smiled as he placed his hand on your shoulder, “I don’t want to see you suffer, Y/N. I...well, i’m not entirely sure what I want with you.” He looked a little sheepish, an emotion you didn’t expect from him, but he quickly fixed himself and played with a strand of your hair. “But I do know I don’t want you to be afraid of me. I don’t plan on hurting you.”

You wondered why he knew your name, but then another thought came to mind. “Wait...you know Alastor?” He then chuckled, saying, “Do I know him? I wish I didn’t. That motherfucker and I go way back. Can’t stand him, frankly. He’s all about radio and all that outdated shit, but me? I’m all for anything new, as you can see.” He then petted your head. “Has he been giving you a hard time? Of course he would, he always enjoys that kind of shit. You poor thing.” His gaze softened as you put your head down, your expression full of fear and sadness, due to those traumatic memories. Vox gently grabbed your chin and brought your head up to look at him, saying with an unusual tenderness, “I promise you, Y/N, I ain’t like that. I can be...different. If you’d let me.”

You got the sense that he seemed to care for your struggles, but you’ve been in Hell for a long time. Very rarely have you encountered a person who actually cared about anyone. The only ones you knew of were Charlie and Vaggie, and out of all of Hell, that’s saying something. How can you trust what this man was saying? How can you be sure he isn’t out to hurt you or take advantage of you?

You look away from him, your face still holding that sad expression. “I want to believe you, but...how do I know you’re not just manipulating me? This is Hell, after all. Hard to find a genuine soul around here.” Vox sighed, the sound of static echoing through the alleyway. His eyes held a look of understanding, a flash of empathy. “Can’t say I blame ya for thinkin’ that way,” he admitted. “This place isn’t exactly known for its honesty.” He petted your head again, this time almost touching his forehead on yours, his voice going soft. “I don't know if I can promise you heaven, Y/N. But what I can promise you is that I ain’t here to make your life more miserable than it already is.” He then extended his hand, a smile on his face, “How about we try something? No tricks, no manipulation. Just you and I. See where it goes.”

You think about it. Well, he did seem pretty convincing, and whatever he had to offer had to be much better than what you have to deal with on a day-to-day basis.

You sigh and say as you shake his hand, “Ok.” Vox’s screen lit up with a cheerful grin as he felt your hand in his, the cool electricity sparking between your fingers. “That’s more like it, Y/N!” He said as he shook your hand. He let go of your hand and stepped back with a flourish. “Now let’s get outta this dump. If we’re gonna be...whatever we are, we might as well do it in style.” He then had an idea, his eyes glowing with excitement. “How about we head to my place? The entertainment district ain’t much, but it beats this shithole any day.” His usual cocky smile returned, the light of his screen casting a glow around the alley. “Besides, I’ve got the best view in Hell. You won’t be disappointed, I can assure you.” You smile, liking the idea. “Ok, that sounds real nice.”

You end up following him to his place and you’re amazed at how luxurious it was. Expensive furniture, so clean you could eat off of the floor, and a couch in front of a large window, showing the hellish night sky. You look out the window and he could see your eyes sparkle with delight as you marveled his abode. “Wow...you can see all of Hell from up here!” He chuckled as he crossed his arms, finding your joy adorable. He could get used to making you this happy. “Told ya, didn’t I? Best view in Hell.” He strode over to join you by the window, his eyes looking down at the fiery grounds below. “You get a good look at this place, you realize it ain’t all that bad. Got its charms, don’t it?” You turn to him and you nod. He turns to look at you, a genuine smile lighting up his screen. “Glad you like it, Y/N. Hopefully it makes your whole...situation a bit more bearable.” His gaze lingered on you for a few moments longer before he turned away to the bar, his screen showing an unclear emotion. “Now, how ‘bout a drink? I got a stash of the finest bourbon in all of Hell. Helps take the edge off.” “A drink sounds great. Thanks.”

He smiles to himself, knowing that you were slowly starting to warm up to him. “One helluva drink, coming right up!” As he grabs the bottle of bourbon, he then had a thought. He sat the bourbon down and dug out a small vial from the inside of his tux. It was a bottle of Valentino and Velvette’s ‘Love Potion’, an aphrodisiac they were collaborating on. Val gave him a bottle as a gift, but he never thought of using it. But knowing what Y/N had been going though day by day, dealing with that radio fucker’s bullshit all the time, he figured that maybe you needed a little something to help you relax, to feel pleasure and bliss instead of pain and fear. It’s not a betrayal of your trust if there’s good intentions behind it, right?

He pours the potion into the bourbon and mixed it, making sure Y/N wasn’t looking. “This stuff’s got a kick like a mule, but it’s smooth. Just like me.” He chuckles at his own joke, and he hears her giggle along with it. Oh, how he adored that laugh and how he hoped that once his plan worked, he would hear more of it, along with other lovely sounds. Once he poured a glass for himself, he brought the glasses to the couch, giving you the tainted drink and offering you to sit on the couch with him. You couldn’t help but blush a tiny bit from how he looked, the way he was sitting, offering you to join him in a moment to yourselves. You sat next to him, a bit shy, but soon relaxing in the couch. Vox raised his glass, the light from his screen reflecting from the swirling liquor. “To new beginnings, Y/N. May they be as interesting as the journey here.” With that, you both clinked your glasses together, the sound echoing through the room as you both take a long sip, his eyes never leaving you. Luckily, you didn’t notice his gaze as you downed the drink completely.

You could handle bourbon pretty well, that’s pretty much what Husk served at the bar usually, but never as high quality as this. “Man, this stuff is really good. Sweeter than any other bourbon I’ve had.” ‘Yeah, that’s the love potion that’s doing that,’ Vox thought in his head. He smirks, watching you enjoy the drink. His heart pounded in his chest, light flicks of static on his screen due to anticipation. “Glad ya like it, Y/N. It’s a special brand, adds a bit of sweetness to the usual burn. Perfect for those wanting to unwind.” He couldn’t deny the thrill he felt, seeing you this relaxed and comfortable in his presence, even if it was artificially manufactured. He knew it must’ve been a rare sight, one he’d yearned to see for a while now.

He finishes his drink, sitting his empty glass on the coffee table. “Feeling better, sweetheart?” He asks, a tinge of genuine concern in his voice. As he asked that, you started to feel a change in your body. You started to feel way more relaxed, your mind beginning to feel a bit hazy. You weren’t sure why; maybe the bourbon was that good. Your body started to feel hot and you could feel a throbbing feeling between your legs. “I...I’m not sure...I...I feel kinda funny...” you say, your voice slightly slurred. Vox’s smirk widened, his eyes glowing with a devilish delight. “Oh, it’s just the effects of the bourbon, darlin’. Besides, you’ve been so stressed out, you haven’t had any time to just sit and relax.” He moved closer, his hand lightly tracing a line up your arm, causing you to shiver. “Just relax and enjoy the ride, Y/N. I promise it’ll be one hell of a time.” His voice drops to a sultry whisper, his breath sending shivers down your spine. “You trust me, don’t you?” You feel your face grow even warmer as he started to pull you closer to him, his face so close to yours. “I..I guess so... You are a lot nicer than Alastor..” Vox chuckled, the sound low and rich in his throat. “Well, that’s the highest praise i’ve ever heard.” His hand rested on the small of your back, his fingers tracing small circles against your shirt. “I told ya, didn’t I? I ain’t like him. Not one bit.” He tilted his screen down, his glowing eyes meeting your slightly dilated ones. “Just relax, my dear. Let ol’ Vox take care of ya. You won’t regret it.” With that, he leaned in, pressing his lips against your forehead softly, something you were confused on how that worked, but that thought flew away like all the others. “Just trust me, Y/N. I won’t let ya down.”

In what your mind could come up with, as you stared at him and as he spoke with you, the thought of letting him take the wheel was starting to sound really good and you figured that it was better to trust him than anyone else in Hell. At least for now. “Ok..” Vox’s screen lit up with a triumphant grin, his red eyes glowing with delight. “That’s my girl,” he purred, his hand tightening around your waist. He leaned in, pressing his lips against yours in a slow, deliberate kiss. He whispered against your lips, “You're so cute, Y/N. Just keep relaxing. There’s no need to fight it.” His other hand started explore, trailing down your body to rest on your thigh. His fingers squeezed gently, a small spark of electricity coursing through your body, causing you to moan. He knew your body was growing more sensitive by the minute. He pulled back, his screen displaying a smug smirk. “That’s it, baby. Enjoy the good feelings. Don’t be afraid, darlin’. I’ll take good care of you.”

His hand continued its exploration, trailing up your thigh to rest on your hip. He dug his fingers into your flesh, pulling you even closer against him. His screen returned to your face, his eyes locking onto yours. “You’re so responsive, sweetheart. It’s...intoxicating.” He leans in to your ear, his screen barely touching it. “I’m here. There’s no need to be scared.” His touch felt so good, all you wanted in that moment was for him to touch you more. “Ok,” you said. Vox chuckled, his eyes glowing with anticipation. “That’s what I like to hear, Y/N.” His hand slid up from your hip, tracing a path up your side and under your shirt. His fingers curled around your breast, squeezing gently, causing a soft gasp to escape your lips. “You’re so sensitive, darlin’. It’s so sweet.” His other hand slid down, resting on your thigh once more. He pulls your leg around him, positioning himself between your legs. He then starts to slowly strip you of your clothes. You were getting really hot, so it was a relief to get all those clothes off. Soon, you were completely nude before him, on full display. Vox’s eyes roamed your naked form, a low buzz rumbing from his chest. “Damn, Y/N. You’re even more beautiful than I imagined.” His hands traced over your body, exploring every inch of your skin. He savored every moan and gasp, his touch sparking bits of static wherever he touched. He leaned in, his lips against your neck. “I'll make you feel all kinds of good, baby...”

His hand slid down, tracing a path down your body to rest between your thighs. His fingers teased your folds, a spark of static making you gasp. “That’s it, Y/N, just enjoy it,” he murmured, his voice a soft whisper in your ear. He then moved his face to you and kissed you deeply. You kissed back just as deep, moaning in his mouth as you felt his fingers slowly slip into your pussy. Vox groaned into the kiss, his fingers going deeper into you. He savored your moans, the taste of you on his screen intoxicating. He pulled back, a devilish smirk on his face. “You’re so wet, baby. All for me.” His fingers curled inside you, hitting that sweet spot that made you gasp. His other hand was busy teasing your nipple, pinching and twisting it until you were writhing in his arms. “You’re doing so good, sweetheart. I'm so proud of you...”

With that, he picked up the pace, his fingers pumping in and out of you with a fervor that left you breathless. You moaned more, the pleasure growing in intensity, “Ahh..mm..ohh..” Vox grinned and moved his fingers faster, his thumb rubbing circles around your clit. The combination of him working on your pussy and playing with your breast had you crying out, your body trembling in his arms. “You’re so close, I can feel it. Go ahead and cum for me, baby girl.” It’s not too long until you cum, covering his hand in your juices as your body tensed up.

Vox growled, his eyes glowing with satisfaction as he felt you release all over his hand. His fingers slowed, gently stroking you through your orgasm. He slowly removed his hand and marveled at the wetness on it, licking it up until his hand was clean. “You taste so good, darlin’. So good..” His hand moved up, gently brushing a stray hair from your face. “You alright, Y/N?” You were there, still somewhat dazed from your orgasm. But there was one thought going through your head. “I...I...more...I need more...please...” Vox chuckled, “Needy little girl, aren’t you? Don’t worry, baby. I’m far from done with ya.” With that, he gently laid you down on the couch, his screen and his body hovering over you. “You ready for more, Y/N?” “Yes...please...I need it...” Vox’s eyes glowed with excitement. “Good girl, ” he purred. You see him take his jacket and pants off, revealing his hard and erect cock. You just sat there, amazed by its size. Could an overlord have a cock that big? Vox smiled, saying, “You like what you see?” He gave his cock a few strokes, pre-cum leaking from the tip. “It’s all for you, baby girl.”

With that, he lined himself up with your entrance, his hands holding your thighs gently. He slowly pushed himself inside you, groaning at the tightness that enveloped him. “Fuuck...that’s it, baby... take it in deep..” Once he was fully inside you, he started to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate. You gasp and moan in pleasure as he thrusts into you, wrapping your arms around his neck and letting the pleasure consume you. Vox felt a wave of pleasure hit him as he felt your arms go around him. “That’s it, baby. Let it all out.” His thrusts picked up in pace, each one hitting that sweet spot inside you. His hand moved down, his fingers slowly rubbing your clit. “You’re so tight, darlin’. So fucking good..” With that, he picked up the pace, his cock pumping in and out of you. “Ahh..ohh..V..Vox...i..it feels so good...” you moaned, causing Vox to grin. “That’s what I like to hear, baby.” He continued his assault on your pussy, pounding into you so much that you were seeing stars. You weren’t sure how many times you came, but you didn’t care. You just wanted Vox to keep fucking you.

“Gahh, fuck yeah...gotta get even deeper...” He then stopped his thrusts and pulled out of you, flipped you onto your belly, and grabbed your hips. “Hold on tight, Y/N. It’s gonna be a wild ride.” He lined himself up with your entrance once more, pushing inside you with a single thrust. He quickly sped up his thrusts, making you a moaning mess. “Ahh..oohh..yes...yes..I...I love it... I love your cock...!” Vox grinned a prideful smile, proud of the fact he was causing you to lose yourself just from his dick. “You’re such a dirty girl, baby. I fucking love it.” It’s not too long til he could feel his climax coming, and he felt your walls flutter, meaning yours was coming too. “Cum for me again, Y/N. Let it out.” “Ahh..mm..V..Vox..! Please cum in me..! Please..! Fill me up with your cum! I can’t take it anymore..!” Vox growled, your pleas of ecstasy driving him further over the edge. “You ready, baby girl? Ready for me to fill you up? I’ll do it, but only on one condition. You belong to me from now on. You like that?” “I..I’ll do it! I’ll only belong to you, Vox! Please, fuck me!” Vox smiled, thrusting even more. “Alright, darlin’. Here it comes...!” With one final, powerful thrust, Vox released inside you, his cock pulsing as he filled you with his cum. “That’s it, baby..Take it...take it all..” You cum at the same time he does, feeling his cum filling up your womb. You cry out in pure pleasure, your body riddled with pleasure. It was the best orgasm you’ve ever had. Vox kept thrusting, but he started to slow down, letting you both ride your orgasms for as long as possible.

Once everything was done, he pulled out of you and marveled at the cum-covered mess your pussy had become. He smiled, and pulled you into his arms, holding you close. “You did amazing, baby.” He brushed a strand of hair away and he looked at you, a bit concerned since you were so quiet, “You okay, Y/N? Do you need anything?” You turned to him and he was amazed at how beautiful you looked. Your eyes looked so full of joy and bliss, and your smile was so warm and genuine. You could almost cry if you saw it for yourself. He felt his heart flutter when he saw that. Yeah, he made the right choice.

You hug him and rest your head on his chest. “I love you so much...”

Time stood still for a moment for Vox when he heard those words. He hoped that he would hear those words come out of your lips towards him, and seeing and hearing it now, it filled his heart with joy. He slowly wrapped his arms around you, holding you close. He let out a quiet chuckle, his screen pressing against the top of your head. “Well you’re just full of surprises, aren’t you? I feel exactly the same, baby girl.” He gently waves his hand and summons a wisp of smoke around your neck and along his hand, it soon turning into a collar with a chain leash, him gently gripping onto the chain. You now belonged to him, permanently. And he wasn’t gonna let just anyone touch you like he just did.

He held you close, his hand gently stroking your back in a soothing rhythm. “Just rest now, Y/N. Vox has got you.” You let yourself drift off to sleep in his arms, forgetting about the world and any worries you had. Vox cleaned you up and carried you to his bed, laying you on it then entering it himself. He pulls you close, letting the sound of your breathing and the beating of your heart lull him to sleep.

~~~♡♡♡~~~

#hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel fanfic #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin #hazbin hotel #hazbin vox #vox x y/n #vox x reader #vivziepop #fanfiction

[loveinhawkins]

Part 1

Steve had thought he already knew what delirium meant—remembers laughing hysterically in a Russian bunker with little say as to what bullshit came streaming out of his mouth.

But this is different. At least back then, the haze of the drugs made the pain temporarily float away, let him drift off into some form of blissful ignorance.

Now he feels it all. He’s hyperaware, can pinpoint each and every source of agony lancing through him; can even pick out the fact that the cut on his hand still throbs, the tar-like mud of The Upside Down stuck under his fingernails.

Sometime after he had fallen, the bats stopped coming. He doesn’t know why. Maybe they’ve had their fill. Maybe there’s nothing more of him left to take.

Sound comes to him as if filtered through a megaphone, loud and echoing. He hears a series of swears, yelling. Panting. The crash of a bicycle being thrown to the ground.

Eddie.

The words come pouring out, quicker even than the blood leaving him, a desperate chanting.

“Dustin, Dustin, Dustin—”

“He’s okay,” Eddie says. His face comes into view, pale and drawn, slick with sweat. No blood though, Steve thinks. No blood on him. That’s good. “He’s okay, you hear me? I didn’t leave him alone; the girls, they’ve—they’ve got him. Hey. Hey, Harrington, eyes on me. Dustin—he’s gonna be all right, man, I stopped the bleeding.”

“Good,” Steve gets out. I knew you could, I knew you could, you’re fucking incredible. “S’good. Hey, Eddie, he’s—think he’s gonna be really upset, ‘kay?”

“What do you—”

“But he has you,” Steve says. He hates the fact that his voice is slurring. If he can’t speak, how else is Eddie supposed to know that… “He has—you’ll help him, right? You can… play D&D, an’…”

Eddie’s laugh splits through the air. It sounds something like grief.

“Harrington, that’s the stupidest fucking thing I’ve ever heard.”

“No, it’s not,” Steve insists. There’s blood in his mouth, in his throat; he tries to swallow without choking, to talk around it. “It’s—you make him happy, Eddie. Don’t you know? You make him s-so damn happy.”

“Shut up.”

Eddie’s breathing has an odd, thick sound to it, and Steve realises with a distant wonder that he’s crying. Crying over him. What a strange thing…

A series of sharp claps cut through everything; Steve blinks, can’t remember his eyes closing to begin with.

Eddie’s face is suddenly very close. His lips are shaking.

“Wake up. Now you’re gonna fucking listen to me, Steve Harrington. We didn’t go through all of this fucking bullshit, just for it to end here, you understand? I said, do you understand?”

“Are you mad at me?” Steve breathes. A far-off part of him insists that this is such a silly thing to ask, but he can’t help it. Everything hurts, and he has a sudden, awful burst of clarity: that he doesn’t want to die thinking that Eddie hates him. “Please don’t be mad at me.”

Eddie’s face crumples. “No, Steve,” he says haltingly, like he’s trying so hard to keep his voice from breaking. “I’m not mad at you. J-just. Scared.”

And then for a terrible moment, Eddie disappears. Steve tries to turn his head to search for him, but he can’t—

The sound of someone retching.

Oh, Steve thinks. Oh, it’s because of me.

“H-hey. Hey, Eddie, it’s okay, it’s okay. Don’t look.”

He hears Eddie spit harshly.

“Jesus Christ, stop talking, Harrington.”

And then Eddie is right there again, his hands just hovering, not touching.

“Steve,” he whispers, but Steve gets the feeling that he isn’t actually talking to him, not really. “God, I don’t—don’t know what to do.”

“You’re back,” Steve says, almost dream-like, and when Eddie laughs, this time it’s a pretty sound.

“Yeah, I’m back. Like a bad penny.”

“No,” Steve murmurs, feels like he’s floating somewhere—feels perhaps that he shouldn’t be, but he can’t help it. “You’re beautiful.” Eddie’s eyes soften, and that probably should be a nice sight, Steve thinks, except for the fact that, for some reason, Eddie also looks like his heart is breaking.

There’s something soft being wrapped tightly around his hand, and it stings, but that’s okay, because when Steve glances down, he can discern just enough to see that it’s Eddie’s bandana.

And it’s a nice thought, that he can still feel this. Can still feel something of Eddie’s trying to heal him.

“Right, big guy, up and at ‘em.” Eddie’s hand in his, the clack clack clack of the metal rings.

Oh, he’s shaking, Steve thinks.

Then he realises what Eddie’s planning to do.

“Eddie, m’sorry, can’t—can’t walk, jus’—”

“Shut up,” Eddie says again. “I’m gonna carry you.”

“But that’s—s’too much. M’too heavy.”

“No,” Eddie says simply. “C’mon, on three.”

But Eddie’s a liar and moves him on two. That’s all right, Steve thinks. He knows that kind of trick, knows that Eddie’s pulling out all the stops for him.

Doesn’t stop him from screaming, though.

“God,” Eddie whispers, and Steve already knows this isn’t for him to hear, but he can’t shut it out. “Fuck, I think I’m killing you.”

You couldn’t, Steve wants to say. Wants to tell Eddie not to worry. You couldn’t ever hurt me.

But he can’t stop screaming.

“S’too much,” he moans.

“No, come on,” Eddie says. He’s straining, still walking. Not giving up. “Hey, Steve, just a few more steps. We’re almost home.”

Oh, you liar, Steve thinks. Wants to smile. Wants to cry. You beautiful, beautiful liar.

“S’too much,” he says again, and he hopes Eddie gets what he means, this time. “I’m sorry.”

“Oh my god,” Eddie says, and there’s a whine in there that hurts—like Eddie’s crying again. “Steve, don’t—hey, just keep talking to me. Don’t—please.”

Another step. Eddie tugs, pulls him closer and—

Steve gasps, feels a tear, right through the centre of him, through all of him, hears a dreadful scream—

And then nothing at all.

#goddamn i knew this would happen lol 3 parts then??? #the universes in which steve is self-sacrificing are never ending #steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson

[belovedmusings]

“I’m not going anywhere.”

+ MAJOR MANGA SPOILERS +

Explicit Smut 18+ 🚫Minors DNI🚫

Satoru survived being severed in half thanks to Yuuta’s Reversed Curse Technique and subsequently claimed victory, but you keep reliving the moment you saw him die before your eyes. You wake up beside him one night crying from a nightmare of it, and wanting to make you feel better and remind you that he’s okay and he’s not going anywhere, he lets you take him any way you need him.

Relevant tags: AFAB reader with minimal gendered language, reader insert without using “y/n”, graphic nightmare at the beginning but it’s quick, fix-it, hurt/comfort, soft and emotional sex, handjob, fingering, Satoru’s 6-inch fingers, slow sex, praises and declarations of love, lots of kissing, love bites, riding, unprotected sex, creampie, cockwarming, Satoru’s big cock :’) <3

Music recommended while reading: My Love (Sia), positions (Ariana Grande), Souvenir (Selena Gomez), Religion (Lana Del Rey)

A/N: no I’m absolutely not over wtf happened in ch 236 and yes I’m 100% crazy enough to still believe him when he said he’d win. He’ll win and I trust him. I have to or I’ll go crazy. Here’s this emotional smut to cope.

Read below cut:

He was winning. He was fine, he was smiling and now—

He’s not. He’s not moving, he’s not doing anything but he’s in half he’s in fucking half and there’s so much blood—

You scream. You scream but it sounds like it’s underwater and you can’t breathe, you can’t feel anything but despair and pain and dread and anger and disbelief and fucking devastation. Satoru is— he’s— oh god, he’s—

“Hey.”

You’re sobbing. Tears stream from your eyes but you can’t feel, you can’t see anything, you can’t hear, you can’t exist without him—

“Hey. Hey, hey, hey.”

That voice snaps you back to consciousness, a deep gasp from you following. Warm hands are on your shoulders, and you look up at the source, eyes landing upon Satoru’s concerned face. His beautiful, alive face. What? How?

“Hey,” he murmurs again softly, brows furrowed in worry as he rubs up and down your arm soothingly. “Shh, shh, shh…you’re okay. It was just a bad dream.”

A dream?

“No it wasn’t,” you shake your head, voice broken. The lump in your throat won’t go away as you continue to cry. “You were…you were gone and I—”

“I’m right here,” he cuts him firmly, squeezing your arm. “Look at me. I’m talking to you, aren’t I? I’m fine. Promise.”

Your eyes search his face, his body, and blindly you reach out, touching his clothed abdomen, feeling over it to make absolutely sure he’s not lying. When you feel nothing but solid, warm flesh underneath, even when you touch down to his thigh, you relax, sniffling. He’s completely intact. He’s okay.

You remember then what had happened after he had fallen. You’d gone into a panic, threw up, and blacked out after sobbing uncontrollably after tearing your eyes from the screen that displayed his lifeless body.

When you woke up, you were lying against a wall, Shoko watching over you, telling you that Yuuta managed to get ahold of him while Yuuji and Higuruma were fighting Sukuna. He’d used his Reversed Curse Technique to heal him, and he was up and fighting again, this time facing off with Kenjaku.

It was jarring to see him back alive, like you were seeing the resurrection of a god. But it was okay. He was even stronger than before, and along with the others, he was capable of defeating both of the threats.

His victory had restored balance once more.

He’d come off of that battlefield on his own two feet, sweaty, heavily banged up and exhausted, but he had a brilliant smile on his face that said everything is fine now, and he’d welcomed you into his arms without hesitation.

“Oh god,” you breathe out, “It was a dream. Thank god.”

He wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you in, planting a kiss on your temple.

“I told you I’d win, didn’t I?” He asks, “You gotta trust me, silly. M’ not going anywhere.”

You huff, nuzzling into his chest. “Don’t call me silly because I’m worried about you.”

He sighs softly, rubbing your back. “Fine, fine. But seriously, I’m fine. So no need to worry, okay? I’m right here, however you need me.”

He is. You can feel him in your arms, you can feel him holding you, and yet in your sleep-fogged mind, you can’t help but still retain some anxiety that you’ll wake up again and he’ll be gone for good. That you imagined all of those victories in order to cope. You need to feel more of him to confirm he’s real.

“However I need you?” You ask, drawing back to meet his eyes, gleaming in the dim lighting of the moon. He nods.

“Of course. What kind of boyfriend would I be otherwise? I’m yours to do with as you please.”

You can’t help it; his tone always brings out a special playfulness in you. “As I please? You sound so easy.”

“Easy for you,” he grins wolfishly, and you roll your eyes fondly before sobering up.

“I need more reassurance,” you tell him. “I want to feel you.”

He eyes you curiously, nodding. “Sure thing. What do you have in mind?”

You reach up to touch his face, brushing your thumb between his eyebrows to work out the furrow, then dancing it over his brow bone, then his cheekbone, and finally his lips. You pad it over the soft skin there before leaning up and kissing him, relaxing at the familiar taste of his mouth. He doesn’t hesitate to return the gesture, lips moving with yours in a combination of slow and sensual.

The hand that was resting on his jaw slowly travels down over his neck, where your thumb runs over the column gently, grazing his Adam’s apple a few times before moving on to his collarbone. You explore that spot for a few moments and then massage down his shoulder, over his pec, flattening your palm to feel the beat of his heart.

It calms you to feel that strong thump thump thump against your touch, impassioning you enough to make you deepen the kiss and slip your tongue into his protestless mouth. A soft groan sounds at the back of his throat, and that spurs you on to continue touching him, running your palm over his muscles that were once lithe, but after time spent preparing for battle while he was sealed away to occupy himself, have turned thick and solid. You ghost over the ridges of his abdomen and shiver, feeling each contour through his shirt.

It sends a wave of heat through you and your ministrations turn heavy with desire, finding the hem of his shirt, sliding your hand underneath it and massaging over the hot skin of his naked chest. He groans and guides his own hand from your waist to your ass, clad only in underwear for comfort to sleep, giving it a generous knead.

“Mmh,” you breathe into his mouth, letting him go further to grab your thigh, hooking his hand under your knee and hiking your leg up around his hip.

His tongue runs over yours dirtily as his hand slides back up to the apex of your legs, reaching around to cup your mound through the thin garment over it. His middle and ring fingers massage over that little sensitive pearl just begging to be touched, making you moan softly.

Your lust is deepening by the second and it makes you grow bolder, palm on his abdomen lowering to the front of his boxers and caressing the sizable hardness it finds there. Subconsciously you start to move your hips with his touches, kiss turning sloppy the more you pleasure each other.

The drags of his fingertips get a little too difficult when the fabric over your core gets soaked through, so he easily amends it by slipping his fingers beneath the edge of the article, touching you without any barriers.

“Satoru,” you moan louder as he teases the swollen pearl beneath his digits. He hums in his throat, and wanting to even things out, your hand dips below his boxers, wrapping around the hard and hot erection he’s been sporting since you started kissing him.

A bead of precum at his tip makes the slide a little easier and you feel him start rocking into your hand, meeting your strokes, a breathy groan sounding from him.

He wants the upperhand, of course, so he elects to push two of his lengthy fingers into your entrance, causing you to gasp, spreading your legs wider to accommodate. The man’s digits are long enough to reach your cervix without even trying and he presses pointedly against it, wriggling the tips of his fingers against that sensitive spot teasingly.

“God, Satoru,” you mewl, touching him with more purpose, circling your thumb over his tip.

“Ngh,” he groans in response, moving his hand so that he starts finger-fucking you at a pace, the wet sounds reaching your ears along with the heavy pants from the both of you. You clench around him and he speeds up, abusing that part deep inside of you just with his hand.

You love it when he fingers you but it’s not what you want right now—not truly.

You look up at him, shuddering at the look of unbridled lust pooling in his cerulean eyes. He always gets this certain wild look that gives you goosebumps.

“Satoru,” you manage breathlessly.

“Yeah?” He asks, just as winded.

“I want you inside me. I need to feel you.”

He sucks in a breath and nods, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek before pulling his fingers out of you. He rolls to lay on his back, raising his hand up to his mouth and running his long tongue over the digits coated in your essence, a deep groan sounding after. It invigorates your desire for him and hurriedly, you remove your soaked underwear, freeing him of his own boxers afterward.

He sits up for a moment to get his shirt off, tossing it off the bed and then grabbing your hips, making you straddle his thighs. His hands hook under your shirt and you raise your arms so that he can remove it, the two of you now bare as the day you were born.

He wastes no time in kissing you again, this time more desperately, using one hand to guide your hips over his large cock, the other holding it still. He slides inside as you lower yourself, girth forcing you to stretch generously.

“Fuck,” you breathe into his mouth. You’re familiar with his impressive size by now but it never ceases to light a fire with your nerve-endings, length stuffing you full even before he’s bottomed out. You shudder and push him down to lay out on the bed, following him, breaking the kiss to bury your face in the crook of his neck. His palms grip the tops of your thighs as you lay on his chest, your skin touching everywhere. He’s so warm and sturdy beneath you, you feel like you could stay like this forever, tucked into him, split open on his dick, nestled deep inside you without any effort. You breathe in and get hit with the scent of his skin, musky and sweet in a way that’s unique only to him and completely intoxicating to you.

You push your nose more greedily into the column of his neck, moaning as he starts rolling both of your hips together slowly. Like this, his abdomen provides the perfect firm muscle to grind your swollen pearl on, heightening your pleasure.

He bends his legs to provide himself with a little barrier so that when he pushes your hips down, they don’t have anywhere to go, forcing you to take his cock deeper. It prods at your cervix and forces hot chills over your body, your hands bracing on his shoulders helplessly as he does all of the work.

You inhale deeply as he grinds up into you, walls fluttering around him, eliciting a groan from his syrupy voice.

It sends a shiver through you and wanting to chase it, you flick your tongue out over his collarbone, licking along the flesh to taste him.

“Oh,” he grunts, sucking air through his teeth as you feel him twitch inside of you. Encouraged from his response, you do it again, closing your lips around the spot and sucking. A stuttered breath is pulled from him, your hold on his arms tightening.

Like this, you just feel so safe, so content. He’s all you could ever need. Sure, he’s insufferable sometimes and his personality goes overboard naturally, but he’s never too much for you. He’s serious when he needs to be and so sincere in his sweetness, in his affection—you don’t know what you’d do without him. You thank any god that might exist along with the stars that he survived, that he prevailed and that everything is fine now. Your chest swells with all of the gratitude in the world and it spills over.

“Satoru,” you breathe, feeling tears prick at your eyes, “I love you so much.”

You feel him swallow thickly as his hands rub comfortingly up and down the expanse of your back, kisses being pressed to the top of your head.

“Me too, baby,” he replies softly, voice slightly strained with the distraction of heat around his cock. “I feel the exact same way about you.”

You sigh shakily, littering sloppy, wet kisses over his neck, starting to roll your hips in time with his.

“I’m always gonna be here,” he continues between labored pants, “You…you can’t get rid of me. Mmh—you’re stuck with me for life.”

Your kisses begin to be accompanied by involuntary whimpers, the sensation of him locked inside of you along with his smooth skin rubbing against your sensitive bud starting to overwhelm you.

“I’m gonna…h-hah…love you so much you’ll be annoyed with me,” he continues, sucking air through his teeth, “oh fuck…so glad I have you. I really am.”

You sniffle, a watery smile spreading over your lips. A few tears escape your eyes but this time they’re of joy.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” you say with your entire soul.

“Nothing can keep me down for long,” he assures you, “I promise, okay? I promise.”

You nod against his neck, moaning when he speeds up, hands controlling your movements to meet him thrust for thrust.

“Sh-shit, Satoru,” you mewl, feeling your climax start to approach. His breathing gets heavier and more ragged, chest rising and falling so prominently that it jostles you on top of him, indicating that he’s just as wrecked as you are.

“Fuck, I’m close,” he exhales thinly, “Oh shit, shit, god you’re so tight…I’m gonna…”

You choke on a gasp, eyes squeezing shut. He always rambles when he’s nearing his finish, control on his words slipping, and you think it’s the hottest thing in the world.

“Ngh,” he gasps out, guiding you faster on top of him. You clench at the feeling, nearing the peak—“oh fuck, it’s gonna, it’s—a-ah, ah, fuck…”

You feel exactly when he cums, cock twitching hard as he spills against the entrance to your womb. The feeling of release pouring coupled with his incessant grinding on your mound pushes you to climax, a full body shudder taking over you as you tighten around his member.

He groans at the feeling, giving you another spurt of release, hands moving up to hug you close, pressing his cheek to your forehead.

“That was so good,” he breathes.

You nod in agreement, kissing his neck once more.

You know this is the part where you get off of him so you can clean up to get back to sleep, but you don’t want to move at all. You’re completely sated now, and the feeling of his softening cock inside of you is comforting. Undeniable proof that he’s right here with you in the form of a dull stretch in your core.

“Let’s stay like this,” you tell him, and he chuckles softly.

“It’s just that good, isn’t it?”

You snort softly, raising up to meet his eyes. “You’re such a little shit.”

His smile is lazy and mirthful. “Ah, but I’m your little shit. By law you have to deal with me forever, sorry.”

He shrugs in a way that indicates he’s not sorry at all, and your grin widens.

“I’m happy to deal with you forever.”

His beautiful face is radiant with the next smile he gives you, and when your lips meet in a soft kiss, you realize that all of the anxiety and fear that nightmare had left you with has been melted away.

Satoru is real, and he’s okay. He really isn’t going anywhere. He’s safe and warm and set to live a long and happy life by your side.

When the kiss ends you lay back down on his chest, and he takes to drawing invisible circles over your back with his fingertips, the steadiness of his breath, the sureness of his heartbeat, and his comforting scent all lulling you to a peaceful sleep with the promise of his presence tomorrow.

___

A/N: I actually miss him so much to the point where it’s debilitating. I’m literally a widow at this point I might as well put a picture of him in a fuckin locket and wear it like he sent it in his last letter to me, like Gege u bitch that was our husband

Please don’t repost my work but feel free to reblog/share. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed :)

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