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#i hope this doesn't creep anyone out
sweet-s0rr0w · 1 year
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I’m back with a follow up to last year’s Valentine's Day reclist, featuring a whole new cast and crew of Drarry writers, artists, reccers, and fans!
Once again, the question was: ‘what one or two fics, or scenes, or quotes, represent peak Drarry romance to you?’ and to make things even harder, no duplicates from last year were allowed. I’m absolutely thrilled yet again with the vast range of fics chosen, many of which I wasn’t familiar with myself, and would urge all of you romantics to check them out!
Featuring answers from academicdisasterfic, babooshkart, bluebutter-art, booktopus, caroll-in, cavendishbutterfly, citrusses, crazybutgood, emmalovesdilemmas, epitomereally, geesenoises, getawayfox, ghaniblue, gryffindorhearts, kbrick, lettersbyelise, makeitp1nk, moonflower-rose, mxlfoydraco, oknowkiss, sleepstxtic, sorrybutblog, wolfpants
Like last time, those fics which did come up more than once are in red, and I let people have more than two, or poly fics, or art if they wanted because I’m still a softie!
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@academicdisasterfic
💗Running on Air by @tinyhistory (T, 75k)
It's easy to lust after someone, to match their face to a missed heartbeat or a sharp intake of breath. It's easy to say, I want them because of the colour of their eyes, the lines of their body. It's something else entirely to say, I want them because of the way they rest their hands on a steering wheel, the way they gaze out a window, the way they say my name.
💗Relic Radiation by @tackytigerfic (M, 1k)
The screen blinked red around the edges, a countdown, and Draco leaned in even closer and said, “I mean literally. I’m on your side of the planet right now. And I’m coming back down soon, remember. I mean, I have to. But I would anyway. Just hold on for me?”
@babooshkart
💗Polar Night/Midnight Sun by toomuchplor (E, 54k)
“You drive me mad, Potter, you –”
It’s mutual, Harry thinks gladly, tearing at Draco’s flies. He feels mad, like an idiot, like a reckless thoughtless – but here’s the mindless joy of Draco’s mouth on his, and Harry falls into it, falls and falls until he forgets he’s falling, and stops wondering if he’ll ever land.
@bluebutter-art
💗Dear Stranger by @iero0 (T, 23k)
“I want you to hold me,” Draco says, and adds, “I want to hold you,” because he doesn’t know which one is truer. It starts like a hug Draco would see between mates. But Potter clings to him and rests his head on Draco’s shoulder. He has never realised that the other man is a few centimetres shorter than him, but Draco can comfortably nestle his face in Potter’s hair, redolent of cedarwood and vanilla, and urge his face closer to his neck until he feels Potter’s nose and his stubble not against his robe but against his skin. These broad shoulders that appear so unyielding melt to Draco’s touch.
(also just every time Harry writes "I hope you had a reason to smile today" in his letters to Draco)
@thebooktopus
💗Glowing by @cavendishbutterfly (T, 9.7k)
“It’s been so good with you,” Draco said. “It’s been easy. I don’t have to think about it around you, I can just be.”
💗Develop, Stop and Fix by @onbeinganangel (E, 15k)
It’s the face that surprises Draco the most, not one he’s ever seen in the mirror. It’s a soft expression, half surprise, half adoration, a small shy smile playing at his lips. Draco might have been in love even then, if that face is anything to go by.
@caroll-in
💗Preserving Lemons by @saintgarbanzo, with art by @ihopeyoubothstaysafefromharm (E, 17k)
Harry takes Draco's hand. "I don't know. I liked the way you cared for me. You showed up and you just wanted what I have to offer. I don't have to be anything else for you."
@cavendishbutterfly
💗the way you make me glow by @softlystarstruck (M, 11k)
“Mate,” Ron says. Harry turns to them, finding their clear blue gaze already on him. “I don’t think anyone could care about Draco better than you do.”
Wrong, Harry signs out of shock, his cheeks flushing with heat. Ron shakes their head emphatically, their glowing halo wobbling in its Suspension charm. “And I don’t think anyone else could care for you the way that Draco does.” Harry drops his hands, at a loss for any words, whether spoken or signed.
💗Quick as a Flash of Lightning, Unhurried as Eternity by onbeinganangel, with art by @babooshkart (E, 10k)
Right in that moment, this is everything Harry has ever wanted. Draco is, in bed, the same he is with Other Harry in every other way. Gentle, full of praise. His hand grabs a hip — firmly, but his thumb never stops rubbing the skin under, he runs his hand through Other Harry’s hair — passionately, but he bends down to press a kiss to his temple as he does.
@citrusses
💗The Four Doors by @fluxweeed (E, 49k)
“I can’t believe we just did that.” Malfoy’s voice was awed.
“I know,” Harry agreed fervently. “I never thought you would actually – It feels like I’ve been wanting it forever.”
At that, Malfoy let out a snort of laughter. “It’s been a few weeks, you said?”
“But I can only remember five and a half months,” Harry countered. “So, percentage-wise, that’s a good chunk.” “Even percentage-wise, it’s still no contest.”
Malfoy’s eyes glittered. “Finally, I’ve beaten you at something.”
💗9 ½ Days by @magpiefngrl (E, 70k)
Draco’s hair flew in the wind. His robes flapped, as green as the young barley. ‘I’ll survive. I know how to do that. I’ll do anything to have more time with you. One day.’
‘I’ll burn the world down if I have to,’ Harry said.
A sad smile. ‘I know you would.’
@crazybutgood
💗A Kind of Dwell and Welcome by @rainbees (T, 22k)
(the whole fic, for poetic writing and great feels and Austen vibes)
@emmalovesdilemmas
💗The Seventh Life by @corvuscrowned (E, 18k)
“I love you,” Harry said quietly. He said it more like a realization than a confession, like he was surprised by it, like he wanted to taste the words. “I love you more than anything else this life could offer.”
Draco believed that Harry believed it. Draco pulled him into a slow, lazy kiss, indulgently long and exploratory and sweet. It wasn’t the fucking he had missed the most — it was these kisses, the way they fit so perfectly together. It was Harry’s arms around him. It was the quiet of the night, and those slow, peaceful breaths, and that heartbeat behind any chest Draco could find it in.
💗Eager for the Sky by oknowkiss (M, 35k)
“We were chopping veg for dinner one day and he told me that when my mum was pregnant my dad would cut her fruit, every day, whatever she wanted. He’d have Sirius running halfway across London — because they were stuck in Godric’s Hollow, you remember I told you — and then whatever Sirius brought, my dad would cut it into little pieces, and he’d arrange it on a plate and bring it to her.”
Potter sighed, finally looking up. “Sirius said it was the only time in my dad’s life he was ever careful,” Potter swallowed thickly. “He wanted her to have all the best parts.”
“Harry—” Draco tried.
“I didn’t ask you if you wanted this,” Potter said, looking away again, pulling Draco forward with the downward cast of his eyes. “I just wanted—I wanted to say—and you’d never had it—I thought—”
“Harry—”
“I’m not saying I’m like, in love with you, or anything,” Potter said, all in a rush, his cheeks gone red.
“Merlin, no,” Draco agreed.
@epitomereally
💗Code Name L by GallaPlacidia (32k, download here)
“Did you know that most figs have dead wasps inside them? Something to do with the wasps pollinating them, crawling inside them, and dying. The fig digests the wasp body, then we eat the figs. I really fucking hate wasps. I really fucking love figs. I don’t think, like, “I love every part of this fig except for the dead wasp.” The dead wasp was, in fact, a necessary part of making the fig. It’s completely part of the fig. And I love the fig completely.”
💗Take the Moon by tackytigerfic (M, 15k)
"Draco.” He slid his hand across the trolley handle so it met Draco’s on the other side, their little fingers nudging on the plastic. “No matter what, no matter where, I want you with me. How did you never notice that?”
and
“Babies should grow up knowing how loved they are,” Harry said, feeling wretched. “That’s the only thing that matters, that they know they’re loved. But with you, I’m greedy. I’m selfish, Draco. I want you to love me back so badly that I can actually feel it in my body. It's like, the way I want you could take me over and I wouldn’t even care. I thought that you must know, that everyone must see it in me. I never imagined that you didn't realise."
@geesenoises
💗A Bottomless Well by @teledild0nix (E, 10k)
"I think I'm feeling it," Draco says foolishly when he's shaken off the distraction of exactly how marvellously pond-coloured Harry's eyes are.
"Me too," Harry leans in and kisses him. It's lovely, and Draco thinks he might live in this kiss, the stove at his back and Harry pressed to his front, cupping one still cold hand to his cheek, the back of his head, whispering cool fingertips against the back of his neck. But Harry draws back, and Draco realises with sudden clarity that there's a well of this contentment, this joy and affection he feels are drawn up from a well inside him with no bottom. However much he draws up, there'll always be more when he wants it.
@getawayfox
💗Make This Leap by @oflights (M, 118k)
💗if you've changed your mind by warmfoothills (E, 20k)
💗Paper Rings by lettersbyelise (E, 50k)
💗Finely Drawn Lines by @the-sinking-ship (E, 42k)
@ghaniblue
💗Licurici by @lou-isfake (Drarry x Charlie, E, 133k)
Harry had fallen asleep between them, as usual, his limbs tangled up in them like roots, his breath soft and warm on Charlie’s skin. 
💗Foundations by saras_girl (E, 236k)
Harry doesn’t even mind that Draco always acts like he’s just decided to casually drop in ‘on his way back’ from St Mungo’s every Saturday, even though they both know perfectly well that Grimmauld Place is no more ‘on the way’ to Wiltshire than Edinburgh is on the way to Venezuela.
He knows exactly what it means, incorporating Draco into his outside-of-work routines, and it feels scary and risky and warm and just like it fits. He also thinks he knows better than to push Draco into any sort of overt declaration of intention, and it’s OK, because he’ll be here, Harry knows he will.
💗Away Childish Things  by @letteredlettered (T, 154k)
"[...]I loved you—all through it. Do you understand? I loved all of you.”
@gryffindorhearts
💗Salt and Sauce by onbeinganangel (T, 3k)
“That’s you. I think… I hope I got it right,” he says. There is really no way Harry got it right, but Draco flips the lid open and… stares.
@kbrick
💗More Than That by joosetta (E, 11k)
“Do you love me too?” Potter asked.
It dawned on Draco then that Potter might not actually know, that he might have been as lost and confused about the whole thing as Draco had been. Potter who had described how love was just a story with a drawn out ending, who sometimes looked at Draco like he knew exactly what he was thinking. It hadn’t occurred to Draco.
“Of course I do, you enormous prat,” Draco said, feeling his face heat up and his throat tighten. He wasn’t just sad, and he wasn’t just happy, he was in a kind of ecstasy in between that. “I don’t know how you qualify to teach children when you’re so dense.”
@lettersbyelise
💗Stop All The Clocks (This Is the Last Time I'm Leaving Without You) by firethesound (E, 45k)
“Potter,” Draco sighed. He finished spreading jam on the piece of toast and handed it to Harry, then licked a smudge of jam from between his thumb and index finger. “You know, when you love someone you should always cut their toast in triangles.”
Harry frowned at him. “Triangles? But what’s that got to do with…” He trailed off and looked down at the toast in his hand. “You… But you’ve always cut my toast in triangles.” He couldn’t remember a time when Draco hadn’t.
“And I’ve always loved you,” Draco said simply. “You’re it for me, Potter.”
💗A Private Reason For This by @femmequixotic (E, 92k)
“For nearly half a year, they’d fought and fucked and fought again until, in the middle of a night of blindingly intense coupling that’s left Draco shaky and light as a feather, he’d been a complete idiot and whispered those words he’d been thinking into Potter’s ear as he came.”
💗so rest your weary heart with me by bluebutter-art (M, art)
it takes a storytelling master to express the depth of Harry and Draco’s connection without writing a word. The support and solace they find in each other after the war, panel after pitch-perfect panel, will warm your heart and make you fall in love with those two all over again.
@makeitp1nk
💗Our Little Life by tackytigerfic (M, 7.3k)
“Henri,” Malfoy said, and the concerned little crease between his eyes deepened as he looked down at Harry. “Myne owne hertis rote,” Malfoy said quietly, and real-Harry didn’t know how he understood, but he did—and in that one suspended dream moment, he was so glad to be able to understand, and he wanted Malfoy to say it all again, so badly—and he smiled at Malfoy, almost unable to help himself, real-Harry dimly horrified at himself for it but dream-Harry just allowing himself to do it, and enjoying it.
💗knead, then let rise by softlystarstruck (T, 7.2k)
“I’m telling you that I try to make everyone believe I can handle anything.” Turning to face Harry, Draco’s mouth is impossibly close and his sunhat throws Harry’s face into shade, a moment of shared respite. “I’m telling you that no one else has taken me to the sea, and no one else has made me a dark chocolate cake from scratch for my birthday, and I’ve never had someone who wanted to make bread with me before, and–” Draco breaks off, twisting his mouth fitfully but holding Harry’s gaze. “I’m telling you I’m rather delicate, all things considered, and I don’t know what exactly you’re doing to me but it isn’t fair.”
💗Let Me Count The Ways by booktopus (E, 3.6k)
Harry’s love is in his actions.
@moonflower-rose
💗Is This Love? by @phdmama (E, 3.9k)
“Harry’s smile is full with everything he’s feeling, and it’s all right there on his face, but he still sounds tentative as he says, “You make me feel loved.”
“Well,” Draco swallows and his voice cracks on the words he’s never said before.“That’s probably because I love you,” and then Harry kisses him again.”
@mxlfoydraco
💗A Sword Laid Aside by @korlaena (E, 128k)
Draco is floating and high on Harry’s happiness, and he wonders if Harry even notices that with a single expression he so easily and exquisitely destroys Draco. He wonders if Harry can hear the thunderous heartbeat pounding in his chest, heralding Draco’s downfall.
and
Draco had always imagined that it would be some dazzling, sweeping emotion that would overtake him and make him see fireworks when he fell in love, but he’s surprised to find how the feeling is more like a small flame catching the edge of a page and slowly but surely spreading to every corner until there’s no part that hasn’t been enveloped in it.
@oknowkiss
💗heavyweights by warmfoothills (E, 29k)
“What now?” Potter doesn’t look worried, his gaze level as it meets Draco’s, a flash of something odd, too happy and young in his eyes. Draco has no clue. Short term, they should probably get off the rooftop before Draco’s fingers go completely numb. Long term, he should probably start calling Potter by his first name. The idea of it doesn’t really make his stomach twist uncomfortably anymore.
He shrugs, the movement of it made lopsided by the way Potter is pressed so closely against his left side. He doesn’t tell Potter that he might be in love with him, but he thinks maybe Potter gets that something has once again shifted and settled between them, hopefully for the last time. For now it feels ok to just stay here for a bit, Draco’s home spread out below him. Maybe sort of pressed right next to him as well.
@sleepstxtic
💗Contretemps by moonflower-rose (T, 8k)
(This one is so light and funny and such an effortlessly lovely read. I love all the works of this author, and was lucky enough to be able to gift them a fic for Erised myself. This one has to be my favourite fic of theirs, though. Just, such a delight.)
💗Tapestry by kbrick (E, 91k)
(This is a *masterpiece*. I still haven't gotten it together long enough to give this fic the comment it deserves BUT it was such a stunning, unputdownable read and I recommend it as a must-read to everyone.)
💗Game... Set... Malfoy by nanneramma (M, 2k)
(Might be biased because this one was a gift for me but IT'S SO GOOD and I really do feel like it's one of those underrated, hidden gem type fics. It's Draco and Harry playing tennis and it's *hilarious* and so wonderfully written and I just love it so, so much.)
💗Strangeness and Charm by feelsforbreakfast (E, 46k)
(This is an old one but it's AMAZING. I have no words, just one of those ethereal, dreamy classics.)
💗In the Company of Serpents by @corvuscrowned (E, 25k)
(Another *incredible* fic by corvus. Such a unique concept and the prose is so soft and flowy and pretty. An instant fav of mine.)
@sorrybutblog
💗The July Tree by oknowkiss (E, 51k)
“I love you,” Draco repeated.
“Oh,” Harry said. His eyes had gone wide as saucers.
“Aren’t you going to say it back?” Draco asked, trying not to wince at how needy it sounded.
“I—I’m just—yeah,” Harry said. He shook his head. “Sorry, yes. I love you,” he said. He was smiling and sniffling and sort of huffing out laughs, looking totally deranged, as he said again, “I love you. I love you so much. I’m like, really angry about it, actually.”
“Not angrier than I am, I assure you. I can’t believe you’ve made me love you so fast,” Draco said, wiping the tears off Harry’s cheeks with his thumbs, which he then dried on the stupid sweatshirt. “This is the worst thing you’ve ever done to me.”
💗Such Great Heights by aideomai (E, 93k)
"I'll try," Harry said, shocked into honesty in the early hours of the morning. "Okay? I'Il try. For you," and Draco let out a shivery little breath and pressed himself in closer against Harry's body, like they could fold into each other and into the shadow and just stay like this forever.
"You drive me crazy," Malfoy mumbled again. "You always have."
"I know," Harry said. "I know. Come on," and they went upstairs together, slow and tired, pressing into every corner they found to kiss.
@wolfpants
💗Countdown to a Life by tackytigerfic (E, 3.5k)
(I think this fic is absolutely phenomenal - I go back and read it often. It leaves me breathless every time, an absolute masterclass in Drarry friends to lovers perfection. Every emotion just leaps off the page. It's a very short fic but by the end I feel like I know them fully.)
💗Yours Truly by @skeptiquewrites (M, 15k)
(God how I love this fic. It gets to the very core of what I love about Drarry - epic romance that's still so tender and perfectly characterised. Just lush.)
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lilahisntsadanymore · 5 months
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Growing up with a deatheater father doesn't teach you much about emotions, so when Theo finds himself developing an infatuation with a muggle-born, he thinks she gave him a love potion.
Pairing: Theo Nott x granger!fem!reader
Words count: 1.9k
Warnings: jealous Harry
There is a 2nd part!! <3
≫ ──── ««•◦ ✪ ◦•»» ──── ≪
Unveiled Desires
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It was strange to him. So strange how he went from mocking, annoying and occasionally bullying her every step she takes to secretly wanting her. Wanting to have her, or even needing her.
He didn't know how or when it happened, but one day he realized she was constantly in his head. It creeped up on him in small steps and eventually he had developed an infatuation for the girl.
Of course nobody knew about it, Theo wouldn't dare telling anyone. He just kept with his antics, hoping the obsession will somewhat disappear one day. Unfortunately, the more he tried to get rid of this feeling, the more he gave it power, the more it grew.
But he couldn't be with her. He couldn't be with a mudblood.
But he wanted to be with her. The more he thought about it, the less he cared about the blood status. He cursed at himself for these thoughts. Raised by a deatheater father, he would get disowned for dating anyone who wasn't a pureblood.
"Granger, can I talk to you for a second?" A question left his mouth as he approached the Golden Trio. Who was better to talk to about Y/n than her older sister?
The three Gryffindors looked at Theo as if he wasn't good in the head. Just casually wanting to have a chat, a normal chat, with someone outside of his social circle. Pretty unusual for a Slytherin.
"What is it?" Harry asked protectively.
"I was talking to Granger. I need to talk privately."
Hermione looked at Harry and Ron, exchanging suspecting glances. Eventually she spoke, "Alright, but make it quick."
"Great, let's go." Theo started walking, but Hermione stood in her place.
"Where are you going?"
"Somewhere they," he gestured to Harry and Ron, "aren't gonna eavesdrop."
Hermione crossed her arms on her chest, a knowing expression on her face.
Theo raised his hands, "It's not a trap again, I swear."
The girl sighed and walked after her rival.
Hermione and Theodore weren't fond of each other not only because of their houses and their blood statuses, but also because they were academic rivals. Both of them were extremely competitive. Since first year they aspired to be better than one another in pretty much everything.
"Can we stop already?" The girl asked. "I'm pretty sure they won't ear us from here."
"Alright, alright." Theo agreed. "But I need you to promise me you won't tell anybody about it."
"Why me? Why would you trust a Gryffindor with keeping a secret for you?"
Theo lowered his voice to a whisper, "Because it's about your sister."
"What?!" Hermione's voice was the opposite of a whisper. "What have you done to her?!"
The boy gestured telling her to lower her voice. "No, I didn't do anything. She has done...something."
"What on Earth could that possibly be?" A little more quiet, but still unpleasantly surprised, she decided to listen to him.
One last time, Theo looked around to make sure there's nobody there who could be a witness to what he was about to say.
"She used some spell on me." He accused. "Or put something in my food, my drink."
Hermione scoffed with laughter. "You must be joking. You bully her for whole five years, but one time she pays you back for it, it's an issue?"
"Not like that." He took a second to gather his thoughts. "Granger, do you remember how we learnt about amortentia few weeks ago? I think Y/n gave it to me."
Hermione started at the boy for a moment and then burst out with laughter. Y/n wasn't the issue, there was no way a fifth year would be able to make amortentia. Not even Y/n Granger.
Theodore felt annoyed and offended by Hermione's reaction. He looked at her with disgust. "What is so funny to you about it, mu-, Granger?"
Noticing how he almost called her a slur, her expression immediately became serious. "Seriously? You know what, deal with it by yourself. I don't even know why you're telling me all of this."
"Why? Because you have to talk to her, tell her to do something about it! Tell her to stop it!"
Hermione got a brilliant idea.
"You know, I've heard professor Slughorn had a remedy for amortentia."
"Yeah, and I'll end up in the hospital wing like Weasley."
"It was poisoned mead, not the amortentia cure itself. You can ask him to make one from the ingredients in the classroom."
"I will," Theo scoffed, "look at you being useful for the first time in your life."
Without another word, Hermione walked away. "Boys..." She muttered to herself.
"Don't tell anyone I told you this!"
≫ ──── ««•◦ ✪ ◦•»» ──── ≪
"What?! He likes me?!" Y/n asked with blush on her face. "Theodore Nott likes me? The boy that has been bullying me for the past five years?"
"And the thinks it's because you gave him amortentia." Hermione giggled.
Y/n wouldn't ever think that he could be into her and the whole story that her sister had told her was simply unbelievable. But Hermione had no business in lying to her very own little sister, especially not about that.
"Does anyone else know about this?"
"Not yet, but I talked him into asking Slughorn for the cure! I suppose he'll do this tomorrow after class, as soon as possible."
"Who are you and what have you done to my sister?"
The girls were sitting alone in the common room and as Y/n laughed, Ron and Harry walked in.
"What are you two laughing about?" Harry asked, ready to hear that story.
"Can I tell them?" Hermione looked at Y/n. The younger Granger nodded. "Nott likes Y/n."
The girls and Ron laughed, meanwhile Harry stood there with his lips in a thin line, far away from laughing.
"The best part is," Hermione continued, "he thinks Y/n gave him amortentia!"
"What?" Harry spoke eventually, his voice a bit more surprised than it should be. "Y/n, did you give amortentia to Nott?"
"No, why would you accuse me of this?!" The youngest girl defended herself. "Is it that unbelievable that he can fancy me?"
"I mean... You're a muggleborn... And-"
"And what?! Does that mean I'm not worthy of that? We don't know him, maybe he doesn't believe in this whole blood purity thing."
"He does. That's why he hasn't asked you out. And he never will. Because they're all the same."
Y/n's eyes became a little glossy, the tears ready to start flowing anytime. "Are they, though? And you're saying this. You, whose godfather was Sirius Black."
"Sirius was different!"
"We don't know because we don't know what Theo is like!"
"Theo? It was Nott for the past few years that he was tormenting you," Harry put an emphasis on the word bullying, "now he fancies you and he becomes Theo?"
"I would actually give him a chance. It's not his fault that he was born into a blood purity obsessed family."
"Don't you think that's a little pathetic? Running into his hands the moment you find out he might fancy you meanwhile you had chances to date...other Gryffindors."
"Pathetic? You call me pathetic?"
"I didn't call you pathetic, I said what you do is-"
A sound of a slap filled the room, but the following silence spoke even louder. Y/n looked Harry in the eyes, a light red mark on his cheek that her hand left.
Harry could see and sense that it was too much, he said unnecessary words. He regretted them, but he just couldn't stop them from coming out.
The Golden Trio watched Y/n run upstairs. She was so glad nobody else was in the bedroom yet.
≫ ──── ««•◦ ✪ ◦•»» ──── ≪
"Excuse me, professor," Theo walked up to Slughorn after the class on the following day.
All the other students were slowly exiting the room, Harry's eyes fixed on the Slytherin standing by the teacher's desk.
"Yes, Theodore?" Slughorn asked. "Do you have some more bright insights you'd like to share with me?" He was clearly happy to have this conversation.
"I actually need help, professor."
The man's expression dropped. "Yes? Do you have a problem?"
"I'm worried that I've been given amortentia."
Slughorn's eyes widened. He was surprised or even shocked. "Are you sure? I remember seeing other people under the influence of several love potions and you don't quite match the criteria."
"There's this girl who I can't stop thinking about... I suspect she has given it to me."
"Who that might be?"
Theo waited until all the other students exit the classroom before he said the name.
"Y/n Granger."
Y/n stopped in her tracks just as he was about to enter the potions classroom. She was about to show the teacher a part of her project, wanting to consult the texts she has written. Instead, she stopped and decided to listen to the conversation.
"Ah, she's one of the best students in her year," Slughorn said proudly, "but I assure you - she wouldn't do that to you."
"How can you be sure, professor?"
"Well, could you describe your symptoms, Theodore?"
"Whatever I do, Y/n is on my mind," the boy admitted, "I can't eat, I can't sleep, I zone out thinking about her. It's not normal, I've never experienced it before."
The teacher gave his student a sympathetic smile. "My dear boy, you might be experiencing the actual feeling of being in love."
"What? And how could it have been caused? Was it a love potion, after all? Maybe a spell?"
"It's a part of muggle science, biology. The chemicals in your brain cause it and it's not something you can control. It happens when it happens. A truly beautiful feeling."
Theo's mouth twisted into a dissatisfied grimace. "Is there anything I can do about it?"
"You can talk to the girl about it, for example," Slughorn looked at the door and shouted, "come in, Y/n!"
Y/n cursed to herself in her thoughts. How could he know she was there?
The girl walked in shyly, holding a paper in her hands. "I wanted to show you my paper, professor," the girl spoke, "if there's anything you think I should change or... anything."
As the girl handed the paper to the teacher, she looked at Theo. They stood dangerously close to each other. The silence between the was so loud, Y/n was praying for the teacher to say something. Anything.
"Amazing, Mrs Granger," he spoke eventually, "although the Draught of Living Dead is an extremely difficult potion to make. I'm glad you're so ambitious, but I'd suggest you get help from someone more experienced."
"I'm pretty sure I can do it on my own." Y/n assured.
"Maybe Mr. Nott here could help you. The sixth year has been just learning about this potion, actually. Theodore, would you be so kind and help Mrs Granger?"
Suddenly, Theo's gaze somewhat softened. There was no more disgust in his eyes. When he stood so close to Y/n, he wondered why did he act the way he did. Why did he do all the mean things to her. Maybe he had always liked her, but didn't want to admit it, even to himself alone.
"Yes, sure," he said, "I can help."
Y/n felt happy. For some reason, she didn't dislike Theo for all the things he did. She secretly always liked him, he was attractive, and she would even sometimes daydream about the day he would finally talk to her like a normal person. Maybe the day has finally come.
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griffonsgrove · 3 months
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Hiiii!!! See your doing writing requests for Hazbin, Its my hyperfixation so I am in need of more content 👀 so I'd like to request maybe Vox general or NSFW headcanon ( either one is good lol-) with a afab reader maybe? This is my first time requesting something like this so sorry if I'm a little nervous or bad at requesting. I think this is how people are supposed to request? XD
General Dating Headcanons | Vox
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a/n: You're totally alright dear! You said everything just fine! As I've stated before, I got early access to the first two episodes, and it's been so interesting to analyze vox's character! I hope I can do him justice!! He's starting to grow on me now. I'm gonna stick with a gn!reader just because these are general headcanons and I want them to be suited for anyone!
fandom: Hazbin Hotel
wordcount: 1299
cw: SPOILERS FOR HAZBIN HOTEL, swearing, vulgar content, stalking, death and mentions of death/murder., toxic/absuive relationships.
(PLATONIC):
Vox’s got eyes EVERYWHERE in hell. There is no escaping his line of sight unless you go completely off the grid. Which is pretty difficult to do when the entirety of pentagram city is covered head to toe in VoxTech.
However, if you don't pose a threat to him, he really doesn't give a shit about you otherwise, and won’t pay that much attention to your life.
When you first fell into hell, you were mostly confused as to how you wound up here in the first place. That quickly subsided into fear as you noticed the large variety of demons and sinners casually walking down the sidewalk like it was an average tuesday. 
You’ll never forget the sight of seeing a demon gnaw off the arm of another and swallow it whole, like it was an all-you-can-eat buffet. 
You wander aimlessly down the streets, keeping to yourself and being very cautious of those around you. Your clothes were in tatters, and you didn't have any form of money whatsoever, what were you to do??
You had two options: Somehow find a job in this new horrific realm, or, die.
You didn't care too much for the latter.
This is how you stumble across one of the largest studios/clubs in hell, owned by probably the most feared overlords in pentagram city. The V’s. 
You get hired to be nothing more than a waiter/waitress, to serve the patrons of the club, mostly serving them their drinks.
You weren't too fond of the work uniform either. It left nothing to the imagination, and exposed alot of skin, far too much to your liking. The job actually paid somewhat decently though and it was enough to be able to sustain a living. You were quick to rent out the nearest apartment.
One day, while you’re out on the main floor, making your rounds, your eyes briefly lock with the TV demon across a sea of sinners. Call it cheesy, but it was almost like a spark went off the moment he laid eyes on you. Which is something that doesn't happen often with the tech-savvy overlord. Who were you??
He lazily beckons you over with a claw, to which you obediently follow, although it doesn't hide the sheer nervousness written all over your face, He gives you his drink order in that sultry, velvet voice of his, eyeing you up. You gulp slightly and are quick to bring him his order. He thought you were so cute trembling for him.
He begins to stalk observe you closer after that. If you have any electronic devices he’ll watch you through your screens, trying to get a glimpse into what your life was like outside of work. The things you enjoyed doing in your free time, favorite shows, foods etc.
He def goes through your search history.
He would start showing up more in the sections you worked at, oftentimes minding his business, but occasionally striking up a conversation with you.
You did have to admit he was quite the charmer, his smooth voice was hypnotic to you.
OBSESSIVE TENDENCIES. If he notices some creep won't leave you alone while you're working, he’ll take care of them personally, it’s never a pretty sight afterwards. He cant have anyone taking what's his.
You're oblivious to his stalking and possessiveness, you don't think much of it, maybe that's because he puts on a friendly face when you’re around him.
But after some time of getting to know you, He’s the one that eventually asks you out on a “date”. You’re skeptical at first, but decide to accept his offer. And also partially because you were afraid of what would happen if you said no.
(ROMANTIC):
Ngl it’s kind of a situationship in the beginning.
Vox is a busy man, it’s constant work maintaining the studios (especially valentinos temper) and managing the entirety of hell's technology. So, he may ghost you at first.
That being said, He will still keep an eye on you. He often watches through your phone while you sleep, just to make sure you’re safe. Hell is a dangerous place after all.
Speaking of, you’re now under the protection of the V’s, so that’s a plus! You never have to worry about another demon laying a finger on you. They usually never get close enough to anyways.
He very easily gets jealous. He won't show it on the outside because he has an image to uphold, but you can tell every time from that crazed look in his eyes.
Vox is a possessive lover; he wants to keep you all to himself. If he could, he’d keep you locked up by his side all day.
CONTROLLING. He HAS to know where you’re at, at all times, and who you’re going to be with (lest you face one of his tantrums). Also dictates what you wear, He likes to dress you up to his liking, like you’re his own personal doll.
Insecure much?
Say goodbye to privacy btw. He constantly has you in the back of his mind and a watchful eye on you. It can be kind of suffocating at times. The two of you have gotten into a few arguments because of this.
Valentino gets jealous of you too. How dare you take his boy-toy away from him? He’s often giving you the stink eye and will threaten you behind vox’s back. You’re too scared to tell Vox, because you don't want to face Val’s wrath.
You know briefly of his and Val’s “relationship” it all had seemed very one-sided and completely unhealthy.
You're often having to calm Vox down. The man has a very short temper and is easily provoked. 
Imagine you pressing little kisses to his screen after he found out about Alastor’s return. He remains stoic, but secretly enjoys your affection.
Some of the pet names he loves to call you include; Doll, Dear, Darling, Sweetheart, Babe.
Pretty old-fashioned ik, but he's a classy man alright?
He tends to be pretty touchy, always having a clawed hand on the small of your back, or an arm wrapped around your waist. It’s more of a possessive trait of his, to keep what's his close.
He loves having you sprawled on his lap while he’s in his screen room, you stay nuzzled into his side, often taking naps while he does broadcasts.
He TOTALLY spoils you btw. He’s one of the most powerful overlords in hell, ofc he has the money to show it. Whatever dingy apartment you had before, forget about it bc this man has you living in a penthouse suite in one of the most expensive apartment buildings. He sees you looking at something in a store or online?? Boom, it’s yours now.
He loves buying you clothes, as I’ve said before, you're his “doll” and he loves playing dress up with you.
And if you buy him something?? He’s taken by surprise at first, he’s never really been on the receiving end of that affection, so whatever it is you give him he’ll cherish it.
If you ever have someone bothering you, or want to get rid of, you just say the word babe. He’ll be feeding them to his sharks >:)
The man is emotionally constipated, ok?? All he’s ever known from relationships is what he shared with Val (and trust me that was a train wreck). He’s rough around the edges, short-tempered and isn't always easy to get along with, and he’s incredibly possessive which can be suffocating to deal with at times. This probably stems from him not wanting to actually be alone, He doesn't want you to slip out of his grasp, so he keeps a tight leash on you. But underneath all these flaws, he really does love you and care about you. At the end of the day, He just wants someone that will stay.
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eupheme · 2 months
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— are you mine?
joel miller x f!reader
rated t - 4.4k
tags: over-protective and soft jackson!joel, partners-to-lovers, mutual jealousy, secrets, miscommunication and rumors, light angst, valentine’s day
a little valentine’s day gift for the lovely @sweetercalypso - I was so thrilled to get you for the Space Sister’s exchange! I really hope you like it! 💌💕
A change in your usual patrol schedule, a dash of over-protectiveness, and a gossipy partner leads to you desperately wish you could turn back time.
Because how can you face Joel, after this?
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"I don't like it."
His voice comes from next to your shoulder. Rough and low - your eyes drifting over heavy, muddied boots, then up. Trying not to linger where his strong arms cross over a broad chest, the pull of fabric against skin where the sleeves are rolled up to elbows.
"Don't like what?" You ask, as your plate and mug join the pile of others in the bin to be washed. Finishing up a quick breakfast in the mess hall before your patrol shift begins.
A second lingers, before Joel answers.
"Don't like the thought of you out there without me."
His answer makes your stomach flip, butterflies already sprouting at the unexpected encounter. You hadn't thought you'd see Joel until later - an unexpected change in last night’s schedule. Sending him out from evening until dawn, and leaving you with a new partner for this morning.
"You're the one that swapped shifts." You point out, finally glancing his way. Seeing the pull of his brows, the shift as he leans against one of the heavy wooden support beams, "Anyways, I won't be alone. They have me with William."
The mark between his brows deepens, "Don't know if I like that, either."
Your own eyebrows raise, "What's wrong with William?"
He doesn't answer - the dark pull of his gaze breaking, as his eyes drop.
"Heard rumor there might be someone in the woods," Joel changes the subject, "Dirt kicked over the ashes, footsteps leading off to the east. No sign of anyone, but that don’t mean they ain’t hangin' around.”
He's worried, you think. Your hand reaches out, hovering for just a moment before you're clapping his bicep, instead of his bare forearm.
"Just because there was someone there, doesn't mean they're bad." The touch lingers for a moment, before your hand is dropping - shoving into your jacket pocket, "Besides, it’s daylight now. We'll be fine. Always are."
His look is dark, at your words.
An optimism lingering in you that has long been leached from his system. An uneasiness that lingers in his blood and bones - a shift of his his as he reaches to draw something out of his back pocket. Pressing it into your hand, when you reach for it without thinking.
"Know how to use this?"
It's a knife - his knife -  the folded handle fitting his broad hand but feeling more like a dagger in yours.  
“Joel, please-” You all but huff, torn between annoyed and touched. Reaching out to hand it back, but he’s shifting sideways to dodge you. 
“Humor me, alright?” He’s grumbling - but he's not done - fishing something else from his jacket pocket. Holding it out for you to take as well - heavy and plastic in your other hand.
You flip it over, seeing the small antenna fit above the speaker, the buttons worn bare and smooth beneath. A gleam of red, the light already on and winking.
"Ellie's got the other. I'll get it from her this morning." He explains, "Two-way radio. You need anything or run into anyone, I'll know."
It would be stifling, if it were anyone else.
Insulting, perhaps. 
But knowing that Ellie does this for Joel soothes you, teeth biting into your lip to hold back your smile.
And you can’t deny that you did feel a little uneasy, heading out without your partner.
"Fine.” You tell him, with a sigh.
“But just this once."
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The ground crunches beneath your feet, a frost and thin snow freezing and blanketing the green pokes of grass overnight. 
You’re already ready for spring, even though the world has just creeped into February. Missing the crunch of leaves instead of ice. Yearning for the daffodils and crocuses to pop up, as the earth thaws.
But for now - you’re content to concede that it’s easier to do your job, at least. The only damaged grass around you, the only marks in the dirt, are your own. 
Quiet, idle conversation with William passing as you take the usual route - your rucksack a familiar weight against your shoulders. Padded with the faded and patched feather-down of your coat as you weave between trees.
Checking traps for food, finding nothing. Not unusual when the rest of the world seems to be sleeping.
The sun is nearly overhead when you reach the watchtower, the spindly legs that hold the narrow room high in the sky. The rungs leading up are wide, but you still hold your breath as you climb. Only exhaling at the top, when both your feet are firmly on the metal platform - cold air sharp in your lungs with your inhale.
It's pretty up here. A clouded blue sky above, a suggestion of snow. A wistful hope that it will hold off until tomorrow, as your patrol partner unlocks the door - checking the inside before you follow.
Your rucksack lands with a thud just inside the door, which closes behind you. The windows are cracked, spider-webbing from the corners, but still holding firm enough that it shields you from some of the chill outside.
Looking out above some of the trees, giving you a peek of Jackson when you stand in the southern corner. 
Here, you can take a minute to breathe. To talk, while keeping watch and warm.
You can’t remember the last time you've been out with William. You didn't run in the same circles - he had a regular rotation of patrol partners. You had Joel, and sometimes Ellie, and you never found a reason to stray.
That thought, the change, had kept you busy on the patrol. Your mind wandered as your feet moved on your own, through well-known paths. Eyes seeing but your thoughts elsewhere.
He had seemed worried, at the mess hall.
Or - on edge, at least. Distracted.
There had been a quick rap on your door, a mumbled excuse about them needing him last night. Letting you know you'd be with someone else for your shift in the morning. A glance over his shoulder, nodding towards the figure that was waiting for him, before he was off.
And although he had made the switch, he sure didn't seem happy about it this morning.
William was friends with Jesse, who was friends with Ellie and Dina - you couldn't think of a reason for the ever-present mark that had deepened between his eyebrows.
You wonder why - because surely, a set of trained and fed partners would be more than a match for anyone drifting through the woods on their own. Even you weren't so nervous, and you didn't have the years and grit of someone like Joel.
And it wasn't like William was unprepared. He'd been doing patrols just as long as you had, maybe even a little longer.
It's here that you're drawn away, your companion’s voice breaking through your thoughts. His foot tapping yours, where you both sit on the old, wooden floor.
“Been a while, huh?”
You nod in agreement, offering the slightest lift of a smile, “Yeah. Been couple months, at least.”
“More than that. Bet it’s been close to a year.”
“Oh.” You blink, thinking back.
Wondering if that’s why his gaze has been on you so often this morning - that he’s nearly forgotten what you look like, “Guess I hadn’t noticed.”
You hadn’t realized it’s been that long. And at the same time, only that long.
Joel had drifted for a while in Jackson - untethered, but never far from the nearest door, the nearest wall. Content to watch from the fringes, to stay unnoticed. To slip out, when he’s had enough.
It still took a few months until he was rotated into the patrol. Until you met him, fully. Needling conversation out of him in these morning walks, or when the stars stretched out in the inky night.
Fully expecting him to trade out, when he could. Others often did - preferring a variety of company.
He never did. And neither did you. 
Things worked with Joel. And more than trust had bloomed in those lone hours together, something that had planted in your first days of seeing him. Carefully tended, nourished by the slivers of traded secrets and shared looks and moments where you had thought that just maybe…. maybe… you weren’t alone. 
"Don't know how you can stand patrolling with him. He’s a scary dude." William mutters, the sound low as you hunker down below the rim of the metal railing.
You frown. Joel's not scary. Not really. Not to you.
A grouch, for sure. All bark and bite, but it's never once been directed at you. 
“Joel?” You ask, clarifying.
“Yeah, Miller.” He gives you a sideways look, “You know he's killed people, right? Like, not just infected. People, people.”
The stories and rumors aren't new to you, they cling to him like ghosts. The whispers when he came into town had never stopped - but with time, they had lessened.
He had intimidated you, at first. A low voice and an angry look that would send anyone scurrying, but in the two years since he's been here, it's all faded at the edges. Gone soft. 
Looking back, knowing now how he looks after Ellie, looks after you - you’re not sure how you ever saw him that way. 
And you think, you hope, that deep down - he does care. That a part of him might feel the same.
It’s there in the way he sought you out this morning. More than a dislike in the change of his schedule - that wouldn’t have loosened the knife he carried.
It was there in your patrols. In the way you felt safe, with him - in how it flowed from outside those wooden walls to inside the town, inside his home. 
"We all have." You reply, with a sharp finality.
You didn't really remember the days before. Your life had been filled with spoken memories, but they weren't yours. The days of lawfulness are akin to fairy tales - merely stories, in your mind.
Who were you to judge, when your own hands were stained?
The infected weren’t the only monsters in this world. You’re sure he had his reasons, as did you.
William makes a sound of agreement, before dropping the subject. Content to watch the sparkle of snow, caught in the wind where it drifts down from tall branches.
That silence is broken a little later, with another question.
"You goin' to the dance later?"
Your legs stretch, toes wiggling in the chill of the room. Even enclosed, the cold seeps in through the cracks and thin panes of splintered glass.
"Of course."
Everyone would be.
The dances in Jackson were few and far between. Even more rare in these cold months - people preferring to stay warm, keep out of the snow that gathers in the alleys, the chill that whips down the rows of buildings. 
The day before had been spent decorating the church hall. There was an ache in your arms where you had helped Wendy roll out the dough for cookies - watching as the younger folks cut hearts out of recycled paper in the mess hall, to be strung along the walls. 
Underneath the stars above and in the glow of the lights, it would be beautiful.
There's a steadying breath next to you.
A moment, before he's asking, "You goin' with anyone?"
The rest comes in a rush, "I mean, do you wanna go with me?"
He turns your way, as you slowly go still. Too surprised to form an answer, trapped in his gaze with your wide eyes and parted lips.
"I-" You begin, and then falter.
William was nice. A little older than you. Showy, when he was with his friends, ready to do anything for a laugh.
Nice, but not Joel. No one was.
And deep down, you know that it's not like Joel thought of you that way. Returned those feelings, despite your wishes.
But you knew he'd be there. He'd go for Ellie, who would make sure she was there to see Dina.
And you'd go for Joel.
Even if just to see him, even if only for a moment.
The silence has stretched too long, an uneasy shifting next to you as he waits for an answer.
"There someone else?" The lilt of his voice has turned sharp, accusatory. Slicing through your thoughts, demanding your attention.
And again, you stumble. Still unable to form words, still too caught off guard - tongue twisted in knots. 
“There is, isn’t there?” Another verbal nudge, and it’s here that you find your voice. 
"There is... uh, someone." You manage - not ready to spill your guts, but there’s no chance you’ll agree to go with him.
"Yeah?" His eyebrow raises as he scoffs, "Who, Joel?"
He laughs at his own joke - and it's only now, as it's turned on you, that you notice how cruel it can sound. 
Your own eyes drop, head turning back towards the wall. 
And it’s here that your eyes snag on the cherry red gleam that peeks from the outside pocket of your rucksack. 
The radio. 
Forgotten entirely, in the long walk over. 
Panic courses through you.
Can he hear you, from here? Is he listening now?
You send up a silent wish, hoping that perhaps he's stepped out. That if you're lucky, the radio doesn't quite reach this far.
The silence gives you away, before you can brush it off - too caught up in the fear that twists in your stomach. A look had crossed your features that William had caught, the laughter dying as he pushes to his feet.
"You can't be serious." There's the mocking curl of his lip, a look of incredulity, "Miller? Are you out of your mind?"
There had been a flicker of thought - thinking that you could go over, switch it off. Or change the subject, tell Will to just shut up - but there’s something in his tone that distracts you - igniting your dread and embarrassment into anger and irritation. 
Making you slip up.
"So what if it is? It's none of your business-" You begin, but he cuts you off.
He’s fully turned your way now. The melting snow of his boots soaking into the hem of your jeans, with how he close he sits. Close enough that you can see the grit of his jaw, as he flings another barb at you. 
"You think he's going to treat you right? Do you even know where he was last night?”
It feels like a slap in the face - the way you flinch, cheeks burning.
“He… he was on patrol.” You stammer, unsure where this is headed.
“Could be. It’s easy to change logs when you got a brother out at the same time.” He shrugs, as if it’s nothing. As if your world hasn’t tilted on it’s axis, leaving you off-kilter.
Your heartbeat thunders behind your ribs, in your ears, “What do you mean?” 
“I mean… Fred said he saw him at Esther’s house. Last night and this morning.”
Rumors spread like wildfire in a town as close-knit as Jackson. It wasn’t hard to see where he was going, even if it pained you.
Esther, who tended the greenhouse.
Esther, who Joel had once been set up.
Esther, who split last month with her husband. 
Esther, who kept the house.
You’re frozen. As if the cold has sunken into your skin, bonded with your bones. An aching weight settling over your heart, stealing your breath.
Because in this moment, you truly realize how much you’d been thinking about him as yours. Suddenly realizing the depth of you feelings for Joel - how much he’s come to mean to you.
It’s devastating, thinking about him being someone else’s.
It just can’t be true.
But… 
But wouldn’t it explain his actions this morning?
Did you misread worry for guilt? Or secrecy?
“Look.” He says, after a pause. Giving you a pitying look, his hand reaching out to touch your shouler, “All I’m saying is that I’d never-”
It was all too much. 
You’ve had enough. 
"Can you just drop it?" You hiss, suddenly, "I'm not going with you."
The focus of his gaze still rests on you, as you push yourself to your feet. Grabbing for your bag - it's still a little early, but you're not about to stay stuck up in this tower with him.
"Where are you-" He's asking, as you shake your head - slipping past him, through the door.
"I'll see you back at Jackson."
Letting it slam shut behind you.
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It's stupid, to wander off by yourself. Even if you weren’t too far from home, no more than a thirty minute walk. 
The rifle left in William's possession, where it still rested against the railing. Joel's blade heavy and cold in your hand as you fish it from your jacket pocket.
Matching the stone-heavy weight of your heart, as you follow your footsteps back towards town. Your thoughts twisting, as you silently bargain with whoever might be listening.
Wishing foolishly that you could turn back time. 
Content with even just not knowing.
Because that’s the worst part, right? That you know he knows. And that he knows you do. That surely - he heard it all.
If you were alone, if you hadn’t taken that radio, you’d still have your secret.
Maybe Joel wouldn’t have his, but you’d try to bear it. Find a way to put the pieces of your heart together, and try to move on.
Cherish those few more days, weeks, before he would have told you. Maybe by then, you could’ve acted happy.
But now, you’re certain he won’t want anything to do with you. Certain that you’ve ruined a good thing - not just the patrols, but your partnership, and friendship.
Because who would want to stick around with a girl with a stupid little crush?
It leaves you feeling flayed open. Grateful for the whip of the wind, giving you an excuse for the tears that spring to your eyes. 
For a moment - in your embarrassment - it leaves you even thinking about running away.
You'd survived for this long. It would be harder, on the outside. But perhaps, you could start over.
With a sigh, you crumple the thought up, and toss it away. It's no more than wishful thinking. No different than hoping the world would crack beneath your feet, and swallow you whole.
No…
You would have to bear it.
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You're less than a mile from the wooden border around town, when you pick up the crunch of boots on snow. Fear prickles down your spine as the blade clicks open in your grasp, your pulse leaping beneath your skin.
The waver of a shadow, moving between the trees in front of you. You go still, squinting, tucking yourself behind one of the thick trunks.
They're alone.
It could be someone from town, but you'd heard there was only one set of boots near the fire they found, the night before. A quick glance over your shoulder - wishing you hadn't split off.
Wishing you had taken the rifle.
They move closer, and your breath catches as they call out.
Not just a greeting, but your name.
A wave of relief washes over you, you know that voice. This figure. The cock of his hip as he stands, the shoulders that slope when he sees you - a hand raised in greeting.
"Heard you leave. Shouldn't be out here by yourself."
The warm glow in your belly chills, at his words.
The acknowledgement that he had been listening souring your mood. It has you bristling at his tone, misreading his worry. 
"I'm fine." You wiggle his knife at him, the blade glinting in the afternoon sun, "Didn't have to come all this way."
In the path you take to skirt around him, you miss the pull of his brow - the frown that forms. The way he breaks into a jog to catch up behind you, staying a few steps back as he does a visual sweep of the woods behind you.
Your strides are long, focused on the crunch of grass beneath your feet. Eyes fixed ahead as he follows, until the tall wooden posts loom up ahead.
Above, and then through. 
If you can just make it home, you think that would be enough. The little house is only a few streets away from the edge.
Something that he hated - how it wasn’t safe enough.
Something that used to please you. 
He’s still following, your silent companion. Chivalrous, you suppose, to make sure you get home okay. Even after everything. 
You’re nearly there - feet taking you up the rickety steps for your porch - when that silence is finally broken.
“You know it ain’t true, right?
For as quiet as his voice is, it still seems to cut through the air, halting your step. Your eyes still fixed on the door ahead of you, but you find yourself stopping - waiting.
“There ain’t anybody else.”
There’s a weight in the way he says it. A confession, layered in the low pitch of his voice.
It has you turning. 
To where he stands, where your shadows meld together. And it’s only now that you see him - the intensity of his gaze. The mis-matched buttons on his coat, the cold that burns at his nose and cheeks until they’re pink. 
He’d been outside for a while.
Searching for you - leaving hat and gloves behind. 
“Where were you last night?” You ask - and he watches you like you’re about to bolt. Palms facing you where they hang at his sides, finger stretching out and then curling.
Reaching up now, to scrub through his hair in frustration - loosening dark, peppered-gray curls. 
“I was there.” Joel admits, and there’s the acid ache of jealousy welling up in your chest. Picturing him with her instead of with you - like in your wishes, your dreams.
“But-” His hands raise, when he sees your expression, “But I just stopped by. I was on patrol with Tommy, you can ask him.”
You want to believe him. But you know you’re both thinking the same thing - thoughts flickering back to William’s suggestion. 
“Or, you can ask Maria. You know she won’t cover for me.” He adds - and that softens you, just a little.
“Why did you trade?”
The moment hangs, where you’re left staring at each other. Your heart gallops in your chest, as he fights an internal battle - before his eyes slide across your cheek, over your shoulder. 
But then there’s the smallest, rueful smile. His dark eyes flipping up to yours.
“Didn’t think it’d be like this.” Joel sighs, moving closer - to the bottom step. Enough to where you could reach out and touch him. Enough to where you see the weariness etched in his face, from where he stayed up all morning to keep watch over you.
“Got some roses for you. They’re at the house.” The words come slowly, “Was gonna give ‘em to you tonight. Wanted to do this right.”
Wanted to do this right.
The words echo in your mind. Pieces of a puzzle starting to fit into place, but you still feel like you’re behind - forever out of step and catching up. 
“That’s why I was out last night. Esther is… rekindling things with her husband.” He manages, “Traded his shift last night for ‘em so they could be together. Went back to pick ‘em up this morning.”
“Roses.” You echo, “Why?”
“Why?” Joel frowns, as hands brace on his hips. Looking flustered, looking like he wishes you could just understand.
And suddenly, you do.
Your own words come slowly now, “For me? For Valentine’s Day?”
Relief crosses his features, those dark eyes going soft.
“Yeah, darlin’.” He smiles, “For you.”
Emotions swirl and surge through you. Relief yes, but also something stronger, something that flutters behind your ribs and threatens to burst free. 
“I didn’t-” You begin, and then stop. A tightness in your throat, as you gaze at him, “I was so worried that you heard what he said, that it was real-”
“I heard.” A dark look crossed Joel’s features, a grit of his jaw, “Heard what you said too. Made me hope, ‘til he opened his mouth again.”
He’s on the top step now, no more than a few feet away. Irritation prickling at him from the memory of you in that tower, tucked away with someone who wasn’t him.
Until his hand is scratching at the scruff of his beard, his look changing.
“But if I misread this-” Joel starts - almost hesitant, if a man like Joel could be.
It makes you want to laugh, after everything. Because you get it, now.
Just how foolish you both had been.
“You didn’t.” You’re quick to cut him off, “You... you heard right.”
There ain’t anybody else…. but you.
It’s always been him.
He kisses you under the eaves of your little porch. 
Stepping into you as your head tilts up - cold fingers tracing your chin, cupping your jaw just as his lips skim against yours.
The lightest brush, as something electric sparks - radiating from that point of contact, skittering down your spine. A soft moan that slips from your throat, before he’s pressing closer - before your hands are slipping, gripping onto his shoulders beneath the thick canvas of his coat.
Everything fades - growing hazy. He’s all you can feel, as your eyes close. Something finally clicking into place, as your lips part for the brush of his tongue. Another moan as he licks into your mouth - stumbling footsteps in both of your haste. 
Until your back is bumping against wood, and his arm is wrapping around you. Surrounding you, leaving you breathless as the frame of the door digs into your hip.
Finally sated, in your need for him. 
And yet more hungry, than you’ve ever been.
The grip of your fingers loosen, as you reach for the door knob. Fumbling for a second before it’s loosening, and you’re stepping back - bringing him with you, your other hand still fisted in the fabric of his coat. 
He groans into your mouth, a hand wrapping around your waist so you don’t stumble, as he follows you inside.
Then there’s low husk of his voice, the barest curve of a smile, “What about your dance, sweetheart?”
Teasing, in the way he spins you around. In the way you’re caged in against the door again, tucked away safely from the other side.
No prying eyes except for his. 
Your answer close to a whine, with the way his fingers find the zipper on your coat, drawing it down.
“I think…” You manage, distracted by the press of his lips against your neck. In the fingers that dip beneath your layers, seeking bare skin.
“I think we can be a little late.”
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happy valentine’s day, friends! 💌💕 and especially to elaine - these were such fun prompts! you are the sweetest and I hope you have such a good day!
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cherubfae · 2 months
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holding hands || hazbin/helluva boss x reader
With Alastor, Lucifer, Husk, Angel Dust, Vox, Blitz, Loona, and Striker
tags: fluff, shy!gn!reader and implied masc for Angel 💕 crushing/mutual pining, pre-established relationships, blitz's relationship/intimacy issues (but we gonna get that healthy growth we need), striker's is a bit suggestive!
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Alastor
You weren't sure the barrier of touching Alastor would ever be something that would be crossed and you told yourself that you didn't mind. You chose to revel in the moments of when he sought out affections and physical closeness be it dancing or if he suddenly tugs you in to tell you something. Alastor is not very privy to other people's space and Heaven forbid someone enter his without permission. Quite the contradiction.
Now, if he notices you're purposely not trying to give him any sort of touch or affection, he will get rather annoyed. You, darling, are the only one who he doesn't mind touching him. Has he expressed this? No. Will he? Maybe. Did he expect you to be able to read his mind? Quite possibly.
Alastor hoped to have made a smoother transition rather than just outright grasping your hand. Even he seemed surprised by his own action, static feedback chirping from him. His ears flick and the slightest sliver of a blush creeps from beneath his suit collar.
"I don't mind if it's you, dearest. I... I don't detest your touch as much as the others." Alastor clears his throat, his large hand briefly covers your smaller one. Giving your hand a little squeeze, he stands abruptly and disappears into shadow and darkness.
You'd never seen Alastor embarrassed before. How cute.
Lucifer
He's a pretty affectionate guy, especially once he's comfortable around you! His heart warms as you mindlessly play with your fingers, eyes looking everywhere but at him. The more you feel his stare, the more the blush darkens on your face.
"Take it easy there, sweetling," Lucifer's soft tone eases your senses. Pressing a light kiss to your forehead, he pulls back. He offers his hand, palm upwards, giving you time to back away. His gentle smile deepens when you slip your hand in his, his thumb brushing along your knuckles. Tugging you to his side gently, your shoulders brushing, you continue on the sidewalk towards Hell's finest local café.
Husk
While not one for PDA, Husk doesn't mind affection behind closed doors. Preferably out of sight of anyone who may mock and tease him for it.
He didn't however expect you to be sitting on his bed, thumbs lightly pressing into the center of his paw watching his claws go from being exposed and then retracting thanks to your gentle manipulations. He snorts lightly, as silly as you were, he couldn't be mad at your fascination.
"You're lucky you're cute, hun. If you were anyone else I may not be as nice as I am with ya." Husk smirks. Maintaining complete eye contact, you raise his paw to your lips and give it a soft kiss, grinning as Husk jolts with a huffy mrow. "Sneaky brat," he sighs, falling back on his bed with an arm over his eyes.
Angel Dust
You want to hold his hand? Which one, babe? He's got six! :) Angel is understanding of your shy nature, though he hopes you'll be able to be more bold with him in the future. He won't pressure you, of course, but he wants you to know that you can trust him. That he is capable of taking things slow.
"Is this okay?" Angel asks, softly grasping your hand in his gloved one. When you make no move to pull from his touch, a happy wobbly smile wiggles onto his face. He lightly leans his cheek against the top of your head, a brief sign of his affection. He can snuggle you more later, but for now, he wants to enjoy the day with his favorite person.♡
Vox
Intimacy of all sorts isn't foreign to him, but he's not used to someone so good, so pure. And he's certainly not used to that attention being directed at him. Any time you touch him, even if you only accidentally brushed past him, it leaves him buzzing. Craving for something more. He wants your sweet smile to be directed at him and him alone. It takes everything in Vox not to scream when you give his hand a small squeeze only to pull back, muttering apologies. Soon, he's reaching for you again, taking your hand in his.
"I didn't say that I hated it." Vox whispered in an uncharacteristically soft way. His eyes flicker up to your face, then back to see where his hand has dwarfed yours. With his free hand falling to your hip, lightly stroking circles there, he pulls you to stand between his legs. Your other arm slides to rest on his shoulder as his clawed hand curls around the back of your knee. Intimate but not forceful. There's no aggression in his movements. Including your head towards him, even sitting down he's much taller than you. Vox's eyes hold a silent question, one that you answer with that smile he loves so much and a nod, and his lips press to yours with your hands still joined.
Blitzø
Romantic gestures are a big deal for him. Big in the way that he struggles with them, but that he doesn't want it to be something that holds him back. Familial and platonic he understands, but Blitz is pretty damned confused with the fact that you want to even be near someone like him. He doesn't want to inadvertently hurt you by acting how he does. He doesn't wanna fuck up, but goddammit, he really does want to be near you. He wants to be able to give you everything you could need and more, he just doesn't know how. How to unfuck himself.
"Sl-slow," Blitz's voice betrays him with a crack and he swallows thickly, taking your hand in his. Ever grateful that you're the ones in I.M.P right now. This is different. Intimate. He's shaky, palms sweaty. His brain feels foggy and it's suddenly hotter than normal. He feels dizzy and like the floor may break beneath his feet and swallow him whole. The second you start to withdraw, he's tugging you back to him with a soft, raspy, "No."
Facing him now, your other hand slides up to his. Both your palms are pressed together. Blitz keeps his gaze on the floor, unable to help how fidgety he feels, even as he laces your fingers together, and leans his head onto your shoulder. He's not gonna let you pull away. Not yet. Please...
Loona
Lighting up a cigarette, Loona leans her back against a wall of some dingy alleyway in the human world. You had chosen to wait with her, both dressed in your human disguises, hoping that any second Blitz and M&M would return with the mission completed. Your sole purpose tonight had been to guard Stolas's grimoire and open the portal when everyone was ready to return home.
Blowing her smoke towards the sky, Loona hummed softly. "At least it's a nice night, huh?" She smiles lightly, grateful her tail was hidden in this form when you leaned against the wall beside her. You looked great; you always did.
A vast blue sky with billions of twinkling stars smiled down on you two. It was a nice change of pace from the hellish red glow of your home. This particular area of Earth was quiet. Peaceful, even. Nodding your head you smile at her, Loona swallows.
Her pinky finger lightly brushed your own, a gentle startled gasp leaving you. But you smile, albeit shyly, your hand taking hers. Not many words were exchanged, none needed to be. Just Loona smoking her cigarette and looking up at the stars.
Striker
Ain't you just the cutest little thing? You think he doesn't notice how worked up and shy you get when he's just finished wrangling in some dinner, with his bare, sweaty muscles on display. It's a direct, unvoiced invite for only you and yet you haven't taken him up on anything yet. Why?
"You scared of me, sugar?" Striker drawls, flicking his cigar butt into the dirt and crushing it with the heel of his boot. You look up at him with those big, beautiful doe eyes and adamantly shake your head that you weren't. "Then what is it, darlin'? Spit it out." He smirks, gold tooth glinting.
|| I DON'T GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY WORKS TO BE REPOSTED, RESHARED, OR EDITED. TUMBLR IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT AND THE ONLY PLACE WHERE I POST MY WRITING. ALL CHARACTERS BELONG TO THEIR RIGHTFUL OWNERS, THE STORY BELONGS TO ME. || CHERUBFAE © 2024
Cheeks heating, you gnaw on your lower lip. "I'd like to hold your hand." Striker blinks, clearly taken aback. That's it? You're getting so worked up like a nervous virgin begging for a thick cock because you want to... Hold his hand? He stops himself from laughing, he can tell that it's really bothering you. Heaving a sigh, Striker plops down beside you. Pulling you into his lap, his arms slide around your waist and he offers both his hands to you. He hides his reddening face at your back, the sound of his blood rushes in his ears, unable to focus on anything but how soft your hands are. And how well they fit into his. "Jus' do it then, they're yours to touch, ain't they?"
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Overnight - LN
Summary: Lando hooks up with a fellow party-goer for the Abu Dhabi race, but Lando is stuck on her.
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Lando doesn't usually drink much, but sometimes he finds celebrating the end of the season is pretty damn fun with some alcohol involved. Plus Max V has put him on a couple good drinks that don't taste as disgusting as some alcohol he's tried to drink.
And through that, he wakes up with another body in his bed. Which for once isn't just Max F having drunkenly passed out there.
"Morning." Lando greets making her look up from her phone where she had focused her gaze so hard that he brows were scrunched up and her eyes had narrowed.
She's looking about as rough as Lando feels, which means Lando probably doesn't look all that great.
"Hi. Sorry for still being here, I'm trying to locate where the hell my friends are. Then I'll be out your hair." She states as he notices she's wearing a McLaren branded top as she stands up from the sheets looking slightly unsteady and wobbly on her legs.
She's moving around picking up her clothes from the night before while Lando remains silent just admiring her. Admittedly she seems almost timid compared to his usual type, but from what he remembers last night she was more of a wild card. But alcohol is called liquid courage for a reason, although equally it could just be the hangover making her quieter and more eager to leave quickly.
"You don't have to rush off." Lando states feeling the need to reassure her that he's not kicking her out when she's in such a rough state.
"As nice as that is of you to offer. I've got a flight to Italy with the girls. If I haven't already missed the flight since I don't know what time the flight is." Y/n sighs shaking her head as she pulls off the papaya top and reveals her body in all it's glory before beginning to put her clothes back on.
"Can I at least get a last name?" Lando asks making her look at him for a moment then smiling.
"Y/l/n."
"And if I want to find you again for another night?"
"If the universe thinks that's a good idea. I'm sure you'll find me." Y/n states earning a small nod from the driver. "I did have a great time, so I sort of hope that's the case."
Lando smirks a little feeling some hope might be there. Even if it's just another casual hook up.
-
It took all of a minute for y/n to leave and Lando to find her Instagram, on a burner account because he's not silly. But her account isn't on private and it shows that she's not really anyone special. As harsh as it sounds, she's not famous or even got that many followers. Her follow count is under 1000 and she's pretty active. Documenting her travels with the girls.
She seems to be travelling constantly which makes Lando feel like he's finding even more appeal in her.
According to her Instagram story she missed her flight and the girls left her stranded. Not for the first time if her story highlights say anything, but they've apparently all been left to catch up on a later flight.
Lando ends up going home to Monaco with Max joining him,.
"So you're obsessed with a hook up. You realise that she probably doesn't even realise who you are." Max points out much to his friend's annoyance.
Not that he's bothered about her not knowing who he is, but the idea that he's somehow so hooked on her while she is so unbothered and just moving on with her life because to her it's no big deal that she slept with a stranger who is essentially a nobody.
"Stop stalking her social medias and maybe just do something on your main account so she knows who you are."
"So I look like a creep? No." Lando scoffs as he locks his phone and tosses it away.
-
Turns out that Lando didn't have to follow her because actually he noticed over the next couple days she'd started following him. Not on his burner account, which he's still using to stalk her. But on his actual official account, it's came up that she's following him in her short list of following.
But what really shocks him is when he goes back over to Woking and sees her walking down the street as he drives back to his house.
So either she's stalking him, or this is the universe. Either way, he's about to let her know he's there. Pulling over and parking up further down the road then walking back up and nearing her.
"Y/n?" He questions making her turn from where she looked to be about to cross the road.
"Lando...fancy seeing you here." Y/n smiles before she laughs and offers a hug, clearly not being one to shy from physical contact. "How have you been? What are you doing here of all places?"
"My headquarters for my work is here. What are you doing here?"
"One of the girls I travel with is from here. We all make an effort to drop by to one of our home towns at least every few months." Y/n smiles with a shrug then sighing. "It's good seeing you again."
"It's good seeing you too...If you aren't familiar with the area. I could give you a drive around. Out of the rain." Lando states as fat drops begin to fall making y/n look up.
"I quite like the rain." She teases before she nods a little. "Sounds good though. I could use a beacon of knowledge on the area to show me around."
"My car is just over here." Lando nods as the rain starts to get heavier and he guides her over to his McLaren then opening the passenger door and closing it behind her.
Once he's seated in too, he starts the engine and pulls away.
"So how have you been? How was Italy?"
"Oh god, so amazing. I could've stayed there forever, the history, the people, just the architecture." Y/n sighs dreamily. "Certainly not Woking..."
"No. I mean I don't think I'd be coming here of choice if I didn't have work here."
"Yeah...you never mentioned what you did. Would've been nice to know I was in bed with a millionaire."
"Would that have changed anything?"
"I might've lied and said I charge quite a lot by the hour for sex." Y/n jokes then grinning while Lando shakes his head and laughs at her for having the confidence to make a joke like that. "My friends told me off for being such an idiot. But I mean I have watched a bit of F1 out of curiosity and I have to say, it's pretty good to watch."
"If I'm not your favourite, I'll never forgive you." Lando states hearing her laugh quite hard.
"I mean I'm watching everything out of order, but you seem pretty talented if I do say so only as a new admirer of the sport."
"Thank you."
The two continue talking before an idea that Lando had thought up long before now. He offers her a new location to travel to and explore, free of cost.
"You know, I'm heading back to Monaco. You should come with me."
"Back to Monaco? Do you work there too?"
So she hasn't done her research as much as Lando has done on her, well as much as he can from stalking the 8 years her social media accounts go back to.
"I live in Monaco."
"Oh my god." Y/n whispers to herself clearly in disbelief of the situation she's in right now before she turns and looks at him proving she never put on her seatbelt when she sat down. "Lando...what is happening right now? I need you to spell it out for me. Because if I'm getting the wrong impression, I'd rather know now."
"I'm inviting you to come home with me...I live on my own and my family live in England so worry." Lando states while she continues to look at him in distress. "Have you ever been to Monaco?"
"No."
"I think you'd like it."
The silence shows her hesitation but she softens slightly and slumps back again.
"You know, I'm not the type to really stalk someone. But my friends are. F1 drivers date models and social media influencers or other athletes." Y/n murmurs then swallowing. "I just don't know if whatever you have in mind with me is going to be something I live up to."
"It's not as if it's a clause in our contracts that we only date people with a big following." Lando murmurs almost regretting it. Not that he can hold it against her but it still sucks that this conversation is happening at all. "I just think we had a good time...good sex...I think you're an interesting person. I'm on a winter break for work right now, but I travel of work so if things worked out then you could travel with me to really cool places."
Y/n can't hide her smile before she tilts her head a little.
"Have you been stalking my instagram?" Y/n asks making Lando's face flush suddenly as his grip tightens on the wheel. "Just there was this new account I'd never seen before watching all my stories, didn't like any of my posts or anything but definitely has been watching my stories like it's a religion and the account has no followers, not posts...just very empty for such an active account."
"I may...have an account that isn't my main account which I use to just look around. But I couldn't stop myself from being interested in seeing what sort of life you lead." Lando smiles as he turns a corner.
"Thank you."
Lando's feelings for y/n seemed to grow over night from the party they met and from there she's been a constant in his mind with Christmas and New Year having been and gone but she's just been lingering in his mind through it all.
"Maybe we focus on the here and now?" Y/n offers since talking about travelling together when the season is still over a month away.
"Would you like to come to see my house that I have here in Woking?" Lando offers earning a grin from her and a small laugh. "It's a cool house."
"I mean I would hope so." Y/n jokes before smile at him.
-
Again overnight things change. But only because y/n goes from spending the night to ending up spending a week with Lando and then messaging the girls to say she's being flew to Monaco by the f1 driver she had a one night stand with.
"This is the coolest thing ever." Y/n gasps looking around the private jet like an excited toddler. Touching everything while Lando smiles in amusement over something he's grown accustom to and doesn't think anything of.
Y/n eventually sits down on Lando's lap kissing him, which is actually something new that he's slowly been getting used to.
"Thank you. This is already the coolest way of travelling I'd never be able to afford otherwise." Y/n states while Lando just continues smiles at her. He really never thought it would feel this good to bring someone home with him to Monaco but there's definitely no regrets about it.
When they land in Nice, they get a ride to Monaco and y/n can hardly sit still in the car as they drive through Monte Carlo. Her eyes looking every which way.
Then they arrive at his apartment and she looks around, shameless inspecting his belongings and his choice of decoration. Not that he's done much to decorate. But she seems to love it all, big eyes widened as if they were trying to take everything in at once.
"You know I think I see why you travel so much." Lando comments making her turn and frown a little. "It's not a bad thing."
"Why do you think I travel so much?"
"Because you want to see everything."
"I guess I do sort of want to see everything...you do have one of the nicest apartments I've ever seen though." Y/n murmurs while Lando smiles and moves over giving her a hug and kissing her forehead. "Alright, lover. I am sort of tired, can we just have a quick shower and go to bed?"
"Yeah, I'm sure you've got plenty of things you need to see tomorrow and I want to make sure Im there to see it all with you."
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spacedace · 1 year
Text
So I've seen a lot of "Jazz works as a therapist at Arkam" in the dp x dc fandom, and while I like the concept, I also feel like Jazz would take one look at the place and immediately be like "what the absolute fuck" at just the everything of the place.
Like, she either nopes out after the tour during the interview or quits not too long afterward starting there, not because she can't take it but because she's so appalled by what's going on there and can smell the corruption rolling off the place and knows no one sent to there is ever actually going to get the help they need.
So Jazz decides to open a private practice instead while still being absolutely determined to work with the various rogues in the city, she is here to help and nothing is going to stop her.
So she just starts showing up at known hangouts of rogues and during their heists/schemes/sprees, and even fights between them and the batfam, just like
"Hi! It’s so nice to meet you! My name is Dr. Jasmine Fenton/Nightingale/whatever last name she’s using and I was hoping we could talk!"
Casually kicks a baterang away without looking because she's being polite and professional!
"I understand that your experience with therapy through Arkam has been nothing but atrocious and that you are rightfully -"
Kicks Batman away without breaking eye contact or a sweat.
"Suspicious of attempting therapy again, and Idon't want to force anything on you, therapy should be on your terms after the experiences you've had but -"
Grabs Robin out of the air as he leaps at the rogue she's talking to and tucks him under her arm, ignoring his feral hissing and all attempts to break her hold.
"-I really think that you'd find it beneficial, even if I'm not the right therapist for you."
The rogue in question is having the time of their life and takes Jazz's business card - and a few extra to pass around - not really intending to actually ever book a therapy appointment with her but way too entertained and excited to share this madness with everyone else.
But then one of the rogues actually looks up Jazz's website and sees all the various safe guards she’s put in place to ensure that any villians that come to her will be protected while seeing her - soundproof therapy room, regular sweeps for listening and tracking devices, the most insane firewalls and protections anyone has ever seen on her network, and ooh she provides snacks and drinks!
So someone finally books an appointment with her, half convinced she's either going to turn them in or is a villain herself intent to experiment on them, but then it’s actually really nice??? And they feel a lot better afterwards?? She doesn't even say anything to indicate that she wants them to stop being villains, she just wants them to be okay??
So more and more rogues start going to her, and Batman was already losing his mind about this woman before - Oracle can't hack her system?!? And her background check shows a totally normal Psychiatrist?? - but now half of Gotham's heavy hitters and a dozen or so other minor league villains are seeing her regularly and every time he tries to get info on any plans the rogues might be scheme via her office it fails utterly. Nightwing got knocked out with something called a creep stick and when he tried to break in himself to get answers she just appeared out of no where and gave him the most scathing lecture about doctor-patient confidentiality before bullying him off her property and threatening to sick her brother on him if he tried again?
And because she's become such a figure in the Gotham underworld, she gets the attention of Joker.
And everyone, rogues and Bats alike, are terrified that she’s going to try and take him on as a patient like she has so many other villains in the city and that's just a recipe for tragedy.
But then the Joker is on his way to the hospital with two broken legs and the fear of god beat into him babbling about eldritch nightmares and whenever anyone asks Jazz what happened she just shrugs and just says things like "I refused him as a patient, he's not my problem." Or "My brother doesn't like clowns." And just, does not elaborate.
Batman is losing his mind over it all. Jazz is just happy to be able to actually help the rogues. Arkam is less happy about how she absolutely destroys their reputation.
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a-hazbin-reader · 3 months
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I hope this is an okay thing to ask for but could you do headcanons of Alastor with female reader on her- time of the month?? (Kinda wondering what to be like for him with all the blood ya know???) 🙇🏻‍♀️ please, thank you!
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Alastor X Reader Headcanons
✅️Romantic
❌️Platonic
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TW: Alastor being nasty, canon cannibalism mentioned, menstruation(wish I got a TW for that in real life fr)
Description: ☝️⬆️
Can literally smell it coming before you even have a chance to check your calendar
Creep
He's like a fucking shark, smelling you from miles away
Maybe it's his affection for you but you're the one person he reacts this way to, he's fine around anyone else on their period
If you forget then he's not going to remind you because he likes waking up to the smell of your blood
Don't worry though he'll take care of the sheets and your clothes, he's got you bby girl
Tbh Alastor is practically starving whenever your period starts, the coppery smell making his mouth water constantly
He's sipping tea and you walk by?? Oops, the cup is crushed in his hands and he's sitting there with tea and broken glass all over him
He wants to devour you all the time
Definitely just finds opportunities to bite you and draw blood so he can stave off his desires
Don't worry it feels good
Eats at Cannibal Town more often
Other than that, he tends to pamper you when you're on your period
You're craving something??? Don't worry, Husk or Niffty will go get it for you! He'll snuggle you while you wait
Wait actually that looks kinda good give him a bite
Fuck off
He steals a bite anyways, forcing you to feed him a little nibble
Thank you love
You're experiencing cramps?? Do you want him to massage the area for you? You want a hot water bottle? He's got you
You just want to cuddle and be held? He can spare some time for that, just let him close the door first
No
Bby please he has a reputation to uphold
Loves when you have mood swings and snap at the others, encourages your anger
He's a shit stirrer
He literally just likes poking the bear and pointing you in his current victim's direction
"My dear, I thought you knew that Angel ate your sweets..."
As long as it's not directed at him
If you turn your anger on him then his ears fold back and he finds an excuse to run off
"I'm sorry my dear but Charlie is calling for me! We'll have to continue this conversation for another time!"
Coward
"Alastor, Y/N is looking for you-"
"I'M NOT HERE"
If your mood changes to sadness and you start crying then he panics and freezes up
"I-uh-I'm...sorry..?"
Makes awkward grabby motions at you then stops
He hates seeing you upset but he's an asshole and doesn't know what to do, doesn't want to make it worse
Idk if he's ever made a genuine attempt to make someone he cares about feel better
Alastor doesn't want to be the reason you're crying
Will just ask you what he can do to make it better, gripping your chin so that you have to look at him
He's serious
Whatever you ask of him he'll do it and he'll do it himself, no sending someone in his place and no fuss
Is visibly relieved once you're calm again, rubbing your back and letting out a sigh
Alastor is as attentive as he can bring himself to be when you're on your period, but you still have to put up with a lot of his shit
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I hope this is what you were asking for 🥺
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Hi I just learned Kinktober is a thing
So here's my four favorite boys and their kinks.
Or is it five this time? *dramatic sound effect*
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And yes, I'm still working on ABCs of Kink, I've got the next one about halfway done and it may be posted today, and I'm still working through the ask requests, and still
But headcanons shiny need more
Ooooh...Kinky ;D
Very obviously NSFW.
LA!Zoro X AFAB!Reader, LA!Sanji X AFAB!Reader, LA!Shanks X AFAB!Reader, LA!Mihawk X AFAB!Reader, LA!Buggy X AFAB!Reader (I'm on my second watch of OPLA and he's kinda grown on me).
Zoro
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"I hope you like it rough, baby."
Zoro's not super kinky, but he definitely likes it rough, which goes hand in hand with the couple kinks he does have.
You're going to want to have a safeword/signal if you're giving him a blowjob—he's thick and he loves seeing you gag and choke on his cock. Literally the biggest turn-on.
Holding tight onto your hair the whole time.
The sight of your make-up trailing down your flushed face while he's fucking your mouth and throat makes his knees weak.
Pulling your head all the way down to come down your throat, shaking, groaning, swearing.
He's a little cautious about outright choking you during sex—he doesn't want to get too wound up and unintentionally hurt you—but if you ask him to, he's going to, because it's still an enormous turn-on.
"God, I fucking love it when you gag on it...."
Sanji
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"If I make you dinner, do I get to have you for dessert?"
Like, do I even have to say it?
Food play.
Chocolate sauce, whipped cream, caramel, it's going to get messy. Any reason to trail his lips and his tongue over your beautiful body is a very, very good reason.
(BTW I recently learned Taz Skylar has a tongue ring so it's now canon that Sanji has one and do not argue with me I will die on this hill.)
He's never going to do or say anything to degrade you...but if you want to do so to him? By all means, be his guest.
You're his queen and he's your loyal subject, the man has no qualms about you doing anything you want to him.
Shove him into a wall, call him names, tie him to the bed, step on him, whip him, spit in his face—he will thank you for it. If it brings you pleasure, it brings him pleasure.
Literally everything you do turns him on, and he's beyond happy to be your personal toy.
"You, my love, are the sweetest thing that has ever touched my lips."
Shanks
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"Oh, come on, sweetheart. Where's the fun in life without a little risk?"
Honestly the kinkiest of the four (but not the five). Super playful, and one hundred percent open to absolutely anything you suggest trying.
I mean anything. If you tell him you want to dress him up in frilly lingerie and call him your wench, he's totally game.
But he reserves the right to crack stupid jokes about it the whole time.
His own biggest kink is public sex. The riskier the better.
Reaching under the table at a tavern and creeping his hand up your thigh and under your skirt to rub you through your panties...or just flat out pulling you onto him to straddle his lap, make out with you, grind against you with absolutely no concern of anyone seeing.
Pulling you right into the mouth of an alley, barely concealed in the shadows and just having you right there against the wall, where any passersby might catch a glimpse of what you're doing.
He doesn't care—it's not like anyone's even going to attempt to stop one of the most notorious pirates on the Grand Line.
He enjoys a little role-play as well. You're the little marine cadet he took prisoner and decided to keep as his personal playing. The enchanting stranger from a tavern he's seduced.
Call him "captain." It drives him wild.
"Oh, what a good little wench you are, love."
Mihawk
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"You seem to have forgotten who's in charge here, little one."
One hundred percent certified professional Brat Tamer™.
He's not going to let on that your pestering and testing his patience is anything but a casual annoyance—but the whole time he'll be thinking about how he's going to punish you later for being such an endearing little pest.
You're getting tied up. Cuffed to the bed. Clothes torn off of you. Spanked. You're getting teased beyond the point of sanity, within an inch of your life.
There's a fair chance he won't let you come for literal hours.
That he'll leave you tied up while he sits back and has a glass of wine and just revels in your pleading for more, revels in being in total control of your agony and pleasure.
You're going to have to beg, to promise you'll be a good girl for your master (even though you both know that's not true) before you get anything more out of him.
Big kink for lace and nylon as well.
He's constantly having to buy you new tights, new underwear and lingerie, because seeing you in them sets him on fire to the point that he's very likely to literally rip them off of you in a fit of desire and fuck you absolutely senseless.
"For the last damned time, no, your safe-word cannot be Yoru."
Buggy
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"You know you're my favorite freak, babe."
Couldn't not include Buggy this time because it's pretty obvious that he's the kinkiest motherfucker at this party.
The guy has removable body parts, for gods' sake, of course he's going to utilize them in the most creative ways possible. He could be on the other side of the ship and still have his hand down your panties.
Degradation, cuckhold, ropes, whips, chains, knife play, you name it and he's probably into it. It would be a miracle for you to come up with something he hasn't tried at least twice.
He's going to call you every degrading name he can think of. Spank you and slap you. Choke you until you nearly pass out. And he's fully open to and expects you to do the same to him.
Dom or sub, doesn't matter, he's just having a good old-fashioned filthy time either way.
Totally open to threesomes, he's bi as fuck.
Also totally open to chaining you up and letting the entire crew run a train on you while he watches.
If you can imagine it, he's done it, wrote the book on it, and you're going to be doing it with him.
"Don't even pretend you don't like being my slut."
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hyunnie04 · 2 months
Text
tender
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lee know x reader, hurt/comfort | m.list
wc: 1.4k | warnings: themes of depression and struggling with mental health
a/n: this fic is a little self indulgent as i haven't been feeling great lately. so i hope this brings comfort to anyone who needs it ♡
you don’t remember how long you’ve been sitting in the tub. you’re sure your hands have pruned and wrinkled due to the prolonged time you have been in here, but you can’t seem to bring yourself to care.
the sides of your head pulses as a migraine at the forefront of your temple starts to fully form. you had hoped a moment of reprieve in the bath would calm your nerves and ease your headache, but it had yet to do so.
the droplets fall slowly against your furrowed eyebrows and taut expression, dripping freely down on your chin and on the dewy expanse of your chest. both arms are splayed limply across the sides of the tub, staring blankly ahead at the white tiled walls above, unmoving. 
the temperature was warm, too warm for your usual liking but you didn’t seem to mind today, welcoming the dull pain it brought. the white tiles that you’ve been staring at for what seemed like forever stared back at you.
the silence was deafening.
a lot has been on your mind lately. the restless and constant feeling of not being good enough and comparing yourself to others caused you to no longer find enjoyment in the things you used to love doing.
words that usually meant nothing had stuck themselves inside your head as well, dissecting every meaning when they had none. sleep did not come easily to you these nights, tossing and turning, failing to succumb into the comforting arms of sleep.
isolation became your company in these moments, withdrawing yourself from everything. missing out on a lot of stuff, in turn, made you feel worse than you already did.
you knew you should probably tell someone about your problems but you just couldn't find it in yourself to do it. the last thing you wanted to be was a bother.
some days are admittedly better than others, where you’re able to get things done, to do your obligations and continue on with life like normal. but when you least expect it, it creeps up on you, pulling you back into that unhealthy head space.
you tried to force these thoughts and feelings down for a long time, pretending that everything was fine. today was apparently the day it all came rising up, unable to keep a lid on your bubbling emotions.
a sense of dread hung over your head, eyes aching from all the crying you did. wet strands of hair had clumped together, obscuring your view, perturbed by how sometimes your skin doesn't feel like yours.
“y/n?”
the bathroom starts to fog with mist, clouding the glass and mirrors, the water slowly scalding your skin. the call to sink down into the water and never come up are louder than ever.
“-y/n? are you in there?” a voice makes itself known. lifting yourself up a little bit, startled at the faintest sound of knocks.
you forget that minho would be home around this time. a hand flies towards your forehead to ease the pounding pain. shit, you haven't started making dinner. 
it takes a while before you answer, collecting yourself as to not sound as shaky. “yeah! just finishing up, i'll be out in a sec.”
“don’t get out, i'll join you.” he yells back, the sound of padding feet against the wooden floors reverb through out the apartment. your eyes flicker at his sudden decision, causing you to sigh and sink down into the water once more.
as much as you adored and love him and how most days would let him join you with no hesitation, you silently hoped that he wouldn't today. you couldn't bear to let him see you in this state, all disheveled and puffy eyed. but it was rare when he was even home, given his grueling schedule.
so you wait for him patiently to come over to your shared bathroom, hugging your legs tightly. you remember to turn the cold tap on and off before he enters, water droplets filling in the silence.
when he finally creaks open the door with nothing on but a bathrobe and a silly cat headband that kept his hair away from his forehead on, you can't help but smile even if it doesn't quite reach your eyes.
you inch farther into the corner, making space for him quietly as he gets in. if he had noticed the temperature of the water that had yet to cool down, he made no attempt to comment.
the two of you don't say anything for the time being, just in each other's corner, relaxing and leaning your arms on the cool edge of the tub.
“you’re quiet.” his voice echoes. minho’s voice cuts through the silence, a stark contrast to the quietness of the bathroom just moments ago.
“i’m sorry.”
feeling minho’s heavy unwavering gaze into the side of your head, you can’t help but feel awful. you don’t mean to be so curt with him, but any more words from your mouth frightens you, afraid that the underlying shakiness of your voice will give you away.
your eyes still keep averting his, afraid of what expression he might bore. will he look at you with pity? with a tired gaze of disappointment?
he does not. instead, minho grabs one of the lavender scented shampoo bottles placed neatly on the shelf and gestures for you to turn around. you follow his request, albeit apprehensively, turning around.
“there we go.” he says. even if you refuse to meet his eyes, you could tell he was smiling as he said it.
minho takes great care to shampoo your hair, his blunt nails gently raking over your scalp, unknowingly soothing your dreadful headache. minho is observant, very much so. it doesn’t surprise you at all anymore when he suddenly asks.
“what’s wrong, hmm?” he finally says amidst the stillness of the atmosphere, tone dripping of comfort as his hands continue to lightly massage through your soapy tresses. you lean into it like a desperate cat, melting at his simple touch. oh how you've yearned for his touch.
although you don’t answer, his intuitive nature already knows that something was amiss.
“you know i’m always here for you.” minho says, pressing a delicate kiss on your shoulder. his sweet words and murmurs of comfort act like a salve to your aching heart as tears start to gather at your lash line once again.
you always hated making him worry.
the overwhelming emotion brings you to tears, immense guilt ebbing at your seams. minho places his head on your shoulder as you cry, hands running up and down your sides in an attempt to soothe you.
he doesn't deserve this, to be left out, to not know the reason you're so distant lately. he trusted you and you trusted him. so you spill every little thing to him.
voice starting to rasp, your stuttering cries now unrestraint without fear of judgement and just allowing yourself to be vulnerable. salty tears start to meld together with the water in the tub, rippling as they fall. at last, you feel lighter. the weight that you carried for so long in your heart doesn't have to be carried alone.
after a while, the hiccupping in your throat and the tears start to subside, leaving you a sniffling mess. turning around to finally face him, you fought the urge to hide in your hands.
"feel a little better now?" minho looks at you with nothing but a loving smile, no underlying judgement, just adoration, and one that makes you dive into him. you feel so utterly loved, what did you do to deserve him?
your arms wrap around his neck, placing apologetic kisses on his lips. he reciprocates, hands going around your back to steady your form. your mouth tumbles out watery apologies as he caresses the skin of your nape, gentle as he can.
you release him, arms still hooked around his neck, looking deeply into his eyes as if he's the center of the universe, and to you, he is. "i love you." the edges of your vision cloud with the tell tale signs of drowsiness, finally finding it in yourself to relax in his hold.
and he lets you, guiding your head to rest on his broad chest, the steady beats of his heart thumping against your temple, grounding you, his feathery light touches lingering.
feelings like these come and go, but minho is a constant that you keep close to your heart.
“thank you for putting up with me.”
"of course, i love you too."
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plasticferal · 3 months
Note
hey queen! can you pls do an angst story with chris. where they get into an argument and chris said things he never meant. then he apologizes to her afterwards. ( basically angst to fluff)
damsel in distress | chris sturniolo.
i added my own twist to this ask. it's my favourite prompt so thank you! 18+ protective!ex-boyfriend chris x fem!reader. fighting, touches on themes of unwanted attention, mentions of alcohol, explicit language. reader discretion is advised. p.s inspired by the unreleased olivia rodrigo song 'prison for life'.
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the house is filled with familiar faces and strangers. a small gathering turned into a full blown house party from the moment the word got out. where the sturniolo triplets are, a flock follows. you sigh, pushing and shoving your way through the unwanted crowd.
all you want is to make it into the kitchen, miraculously being the only place no one wants to linger. the last person you need to see right now is your ex lover. chris is standing ahead of you, leaning on the kitchen counter, alone in the room. you shut the doors behind you, needing to escape. even if it means with him.
“if you wanted to get me alone, you could have just asked." he speaks smug, before taking a sip from his red solo cup.
“i'm not in the mood,” you dismiss. you open the fridge, eyes scanning the shelves but nothing calling your name.
you know you're not actually looking for anything, you just don't want to look at him. the entire night has you shaking with anger. from the mess in your home, the lack of care everyone is taking, the noise complaint you know you'll be getting later, and worst of all, that one guy who won't leave you alone.
you've never seen him before tonight, you don't even know his name, but all he's done is make you uncomfortable. try to dance with you, try to give you drinks. he brushes your waist every time he walks past.
all of your friends have been encouraging you to go for it, to get over chris. and honestly, you consider it for a moment. just to finally move on, but you can't bring yourself to. at least not with some random creep.
the break up is still raw. he tells everyone it was 'mutual' but it was a part on your request. he'd never throw you under the bus like that. he knows why you made your decision, he's never questioned it.
chris feels like it's unrequited love. although, you haven't lost any love for him, no matter how much you try to push him away. he has every right to despise you, but he doesn't.
every time you close a chapter with him, you find yourself in a sequel. it's like you're re-reading different stories, but the ending stays the same. your heart wants him, your brain wants to hate him.
"what's wrong?" he asks, sensing you're genuine in your frustration.
"nothing." you refuse to let him know what's happing in your world, let alone your mind. you don't need to let in him anymore, even though you want to let it out. he's the one person who could just sit and listen to you for hours on end.
"alright, just askin" his words trail off into a hush. he switches the tone, not wanting the conversation to stop.
“your friends are nice” he speaks in a sickeningly sweet tone, because if anyone knows how to kick you while you're down, it's him.
"you would think that" you scoff, implying that you've seen them throw themselves at him all night. him pouring them drinks, smiling and frothing over the attention he's receiving.
"the fuck is that supposed to mean?" his temperamental side seeps out, and you grow only more irritated.
"chris, can you get out please?" you huff, hands crossing over your chest. an unintentional way to seperate yourself from him, a metaphorical wall being put up.
"such a party pooper. you really gotta let loose, relax a bit." his words come out a lot more nasty that you hope he meant them, and it makes your face hot.
you give him the benefit of the doubt and think he's speaking with resilience, at the fact you keep shutting him down.
"i wonder why we ever broke up." you reply sarcastically, a fake smile on your face. he rolls his eyes, finishing off his drink and letting out an audible "ah," like a child finishing a juice box.
"i haven't seen you all night, y/n" his voice softens, and it becomes clear he's speaking for the sake of talking to you. he always wants to talk to you.
looking at the counter quickly to place his cup down, he looks back at you, tilting his head to the side slightly. he's not being horrible to you, he never has been. he's still in your life whether you like it or not, despite your hostility.
"sorry. i'm just tired." you lie. he knows it.
"your poker face isn't very good. i learnt that the hard way," he bounces his eyebrows, biting the tip of his tongue, eyes a bit wider as he stares at the ground and you can tell he's having a flashback.
you chuckle at the reference. the one time he caught you faking an orgasm didn't end very well, and he's been able to catch you out ever since. he's never been afraid to pull you up on your own fibs.
"sorry, again." you hug your body tighter, avoiding his eyes. he pushes himself off the counter with a stretch like hum and walks over to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder.
"stop apologizing, you sound like matt," he rolls his eyes lightheartedly, and you let out a small laugh. that's always his intention, to make you smile.
"c'mon princess, let's get you a drink. seems like you need it." he nods toward to the door, rubbing your shoulder enthusiastically.
you let him try to fix your mood, because god knows you do actually need to stop stressing. you can't control what happens, just how you react. that's what chris always used to say when you were together.
feeling safe in his embrace, he security guard style moves you through the party. he hollers "excuse me!" and "coming through!" and everyone just listens, parting like the red sea. he's not the biggest guy in the room, but he sure is the most assertive. especially with you under his arm.
when you finally get to the drinks table, he makes you a vodka lemonade, saving the rest of the can for himself to finish off. it's not the most thrilling drink, but enough to keep you settled. ease the tension a bit. plus, it tastes good. no harm, no foul. as chris is mixing the liquids into cups, you feel an unwanted hand snake up around your hip.
"there you are. are you hiding from me?" your stomach drops at the voice of the mystery man towering over you, and you look ahead to watch chris's eyes snap up instantly.
chris lowers the cups, holding his eyes on the man behind you. you watch as he kinks his neck and his jaw tenses, taking a step closer. you shake your head at chris, holding a hand up subtly to tell him not to come any closer.
turning around, you stare up at the man. his breath reeks of liquor, and his shirt is drenched is sweat. it makes you sour your face and tense your entire body.
"i don't know what you want from me, but it's not gonna happen. i think you should leave." you speak sternly, trying not to let your voice shake with pure nerves. not even liquid confidence could help you right now.
"the party's just getting started," the man smiles, stumbling toward you in what you think is an attempt at a hug, but you begin pushing his body away from yours with a shove.
"dude, she doesn't want you. walk away." you hear chris's direct voice over your shoulder.
the last thing you want is negative attention on chris in a room full of people who would spread the news like wildfire. you never want that for him.
"it's okay, i got this." you dismiss chris in the nicest possible way, but you're being serious.
"come on, we'll have fun," the man hiccups through his words, mumbling them and tripping over toward you again.
"get the fuck away from her." chris's breath hits the back of your neck as he moves even closer to you.
"christopher, i'm serious. stop." you speak through grit teeth, so people can't read your lips, as he lingers next to you.
you try to be as inconspicuous as you can in your rejection to his advances, but he won't give up. the man appears more annoyed, and he grabs your wrist with a tight grip.
"let go of me." you grab the mans hand, trying to pry his grip without making it obvious.
you’re shaking at the thought of attention drawing. not for you, but for chris. eyes are already on you, being his ex. it's not what he ever wanted for you either. if he could make it all disappear, he would. it becomes more difficult when chris notices, and this time, has no intention of backing down.
"i'm not gonna repeat myself, back the fuck up." chris walks around your body, face to face with the guy who has a hold on you now.
"please, chris." you beg, voice quivering.
you know his temper can change in the blink of an eye. him and matt both have that in common.
"she doesn't need your help, pretty boy." the man splatters his words, a malicious smile on his face as he leans toward chris, almost nose to nose.
chris smiles criminally, flashing his teeth.
"you're right," chris puts his hands up in defence, a downward smile on his face as he chuckles darkly, taking a big step backward.
there's a feeling of relief, and intense fear as he actually does start to back away. but you know chris. unfortunately, it's unavoidable.
you try to catch his eyes, and speak through a begging stare without using words. he looks at you with sadness, and you mime the words, 'please don't'.
the moment the man tugs your wrist as if to leave with him, making you wince with the grip he holds. you regret your counteraction instantly, because chris reacts viscerally.
he flares his nostrils and squeezes his nails into his palm, balling up his hands by his hip. his knuckles are turning white.
before you can get pulled away, chris lunges forward with a tight fist, throwing a strong, perfectly aligned punch to the mans cheekbone. it throws the man to the ground in the blink of an eye, relieving the pressure on your skin. you stumble backwards, out of the line of fire.
chris steps heavily forward, shoving a foot into his ribcage before straddling his legs, completely overpowering him. the man projects forward to swing and hit chris's mouth. chris doesn't even flinch, like it was painless. you watch chris raise his arm up again to pummel down onto the now defenceless stranger.
the surrounding crowd gasps and yells, clearing the space that chris has created with his actions. iphone cameras flash, making you feel sick. the whispering and gossip you can already hear pounding in your head is overwhelming.
you feel so futile. chris is too in his own world to even realise the repercussions. you're not saying the guy didn't deserve it, you have no care in the world for him. you care about the aftermath.
in a fantasy world, a daydream, a fairytale even, this is attractive. a knight in shining armour, fighting for his lady. a world where there are no consequences, or social media, or fear. a reality chris has suddenly forgotten about.
he looks natural doing it, too. the veins in his arms so prominent, his tight mouth and huffed breaths as he gives it everything he's got.
you're frozen in shock, watching chris pelt another punch into the man, and you want to pull him off, you know you need to, but all your body can do is watch. watch the two men roughhousing and exchanging blows, chris taking every hit with pride.
you're numb to the feeling, screaming in your head.
appearing out of thin air, nick and matt are in your line of vision, hiding the chaos ahead of you. his brothers move into action before anyone else needs to.
they've obviously been summoned, but there's a part of you that believes they could just sense it. like they telepathically knew chris was getting himself into trouble by the lack of surprise they express.
nick grabs chris by the collar of his shirt, pulling him off. matt grabs his wrists, to stop him from using his fists. the fight comes undone, finally, but chris is disoriented. he spits onto the man as he's being escorted into the kitchen by his brothers.
your eyes burn with tears that refuse to fall, and matt sweeps your hand up, guiding you with them in a hurried manner. matt is trying to snap you back to reality, but it's just white noise.
chris hits his palm aggressively with frustration against the door frame of the kitchen as you all walk through, and you take a deep breath to compose yourself. your eyes are still welling as you choke back a sniffle, and you're not sure if it's shock, hurt, or anger anymore.
you're in a trance as you walk over to the freezer. your body is in autopilot, moving without you even knowing. you grab a frozen bag of vegetables out of the tray.
"so fucking stupid," you say nastily under your breath, slamming the door shut.
walking over to chris who's sat up on the ledge of the sink. you throw the packet at his chest, and he grabs it, questioning you for a second before matt walks over and shows him to place it on his bruised and red raw knuckles.
the room is filled with tension.
matt is biting his nails, you're leaning against the closed door, and nick finds himself squatting on the floor.
"what the actual fuck was that?" nick is too stunned to even yell, he just speaks aloud.
"i asked you not to, chris. i could have handled it myself." you shake your head, vision blurry as you stare vacantly ahead. you want to lash out at him, but for some reason you can't.
"yeah, it really looked like you had it under control." he crushes the frozen packet harshly against his hand.
"we'll leave you two alone." matt cuts through awkwardly, shooting nick a warning glare.
matt knows it's not his place to go off at chris right now. he'll do that later.
"but-" nick begins, and matt snaps toward the door. you hear nick sigh, knowing he would love nothing more than to stay and listen to you tear into chris. alas, they both leave promptly, matt flashing you a sympathetic smile on the way out.
you can hear from the other side of the door, both nick and matt are hustling trying to kick everyone out. it’s a weight lifted off your shoulders. the literal mess being left behind is the least of your worries now.
you're alone with chris in the kitchen again, the second time not being anymore pleasant than the first. you blame yourself fully for dropping your guard, even if for a second.
“i begged you not to, chris.” you repeat with a stern tone, laced with betrayal and genuine hurt.
he’s silent for a moment, staring at you from across the room with no emotion on his face. you know he feels terrible, he doesn’t have to show it. or tell you.
“did you think i was just gonna stand and watch?” he rebuttals.
“i would have preferred that, honestly.” you don’t understand how he can’t grasp the intensity of the situation.
"did you want him? go back out there then." he's bitter, pointing at the door. you roll your eyes, shaking your head in disbelief.
"chris," you start. he keeps talking.
“because i’m sure he’s still laying on the floor. go ahead. he might have a hard time talking now, though.” chris shrugs, speaking in a provoking manner.
“you’ll be lucky if he doesn’t press charges." you apprise.
“he should feel lucky i didn’t do worse.” he takes another step toward you, presumptuous in the way he carries himself.
"you've done a lot of stupid shit, chris. but that," you raise your hand as you speak, laughing in shock.
"that was unbelievable." you pinch the bridge of your nose, taking yet another deep breath.
"you know what's unbelievable is how you haven't even thanked me once" he ignores your words and bites back with irritation, face growing more twisted with upset.
"thank you?" you repeat, jaw dropping. you step toward him this time. you feel dejected trying to get him to understand.
"thank you for what? for causing a scene? for putting yourself in danger?" you step forward again, feeling like you could drive your heels into the ground beneath you.
"you're acting insane" he brings his hands to his head, tugging at his own hair with despair. his words sting, despite the back and forth arguing.
"you're the one that lashed out on that guy with no consideration for anyone else around you. that's insane" you speak with physical gestures unconsciously.
you're trying to reason with him, but with the state he's in, it's like trying to put a brain in a statue. you examine him, trying to search for his eyes but his body won't keep still, twisting and moving around.
"fuck, okay, i get it! i get it, y/n. you're not happy with me. you never fucking are apparently," his words trail off and he waves you away, turning his back to you. he sounds desperate for it to end.
you want to scream at him at the top of your lungs, and quite frankly, you could. your face burns and steam is about to shoot out of your ears.
"you don't need to protect me anymore, chris."
"i saved your ass out there." he speaks with his hand, four fingers direct to your chest. his words are like salt being rubbed into an open wound.
"saved me? that's a fucking stretch. your brothers saved your ass, because you don't think before you fucking act!"
"this is about YOU, y/n! what i did for you!" he slaps the back of right hand into the palm of his left.
"i'm not some damsel in distress that you need to sweep up and put in a tower, chris"
"yeah well at least in a tower you can't attract trouble." he speaks as if it's your fault, and of all the things he's just spit out, that's by far the worst. the most menacing and cut to the bone tone he's used.
"that was low, even for you." you huff, emotions at an all time high.
your breathing feels tight, but instead of reacting, you force yourself to seperate your emotions from the reality of the situation. you're both feeling very intensely, and expressing it the same way.
in hindsight, you could have redirected some of your emotions, but you also wish chris would take back some things he's said. there's no excuses.
chris re-collects himself and turns toward you again. he shrugs his shoulders, like he has nothing left to say. no fight left.
the closer chris is standing the more prominent his face is, and more specifically, his busted open lip.
you gasp in a mix of being upset, and shock. it feels like a piece of your heart is breaking off, seeing his delicate, pale skin so sore.
"your lip, chris." you exhale, stepping toward him.
he flinches when your hand raises to touch his face, and you know now that you've acknowledged it, it's hurting him. neither of you paid any attention to it amongst the turmoil.
"come here." you sigh, pulling his arm, bringing him over to where the paper towels are, in the corner of the sink.
tearing a white square into your hands, you rinse it under cold water lightly before squeezing the saturation out, leaving a damp cloth in your hand.
turning into chris's body, he looks down at you. he's still at last, and looks like he has no thoughts behind his now seemingly innocent eyes.
you cup his cheek gently, to turn his face downward. you bring the towel up to his lip, wiping his stained chin and mouth. he lets you, and doesn't even wince. he visibly gives into your touch. he's content.
"i need you to promise me you'll never do something like that again." you pull back, folding over a clean side and then wiping his lip softly, trying not to cause him pain.
"i can't promise that." he speaks in a whisper, as if he doesn't want you to hear his word.
with his lip no longer being red, you toss the damp and crumbling paper into sink, making it a problem for another time.
"why?" you look into his eyes, wiping your hands on your shirt.
his blue eyes are big but blameless, pupils dilated. holding his stare as your arm lowers.
"because if anyone lays a hand on you again, i'm going to prison for life." the piece of your heart that broke off earlier reattaches at his words alone.
chris's much shorter hair is spikey around his ears, and wet at the ends, turning dark brown from his sweat. you caress his messy curls, tucking it over the curves of his ears and taming the wispy strands. you hold his head in your hands, tiling him up and your mouths are inches apart.
"how hard did he hit your head?" you ask against his lips. he chuckles, genuinely.
he's an idiot, undeniably. but the gut wrenching, lawless love he has for you makes him that way. his low, smooth laughter, makes your heart skip a beat.
"i mean it, y/n."
"but i know, i know it was stupid." he admits.
"yeah, it was." you agree, shaking his head around slightly.
he grabs your hands with his own, engulfing them and holding them in his palms. he squeezes your hands, bringing them to his lips and kissing your knuckles.
"i'm sorry." he speaks on your skin.
"like really fucking sorry." he strains his head back with remorse, making his adam's apple more prominent, and he swallows hard. like he's swallowing his guilt.
"i said some nasty things. i wish i could take them back, y/n. i really do."
"i know, chris."
"no, you don't. i'll apologise to you everyday for the rest of my life if i have to. i've been horrible tonight."
"chris, enough," you hush him, the calmness in your tone making him understand you hear him. loud and clear. you need some time to forgive, but you absorb his words.
"i don't know how you didn't smack me in the mouth." he jokes, and you giggle through your breath.
"there's still time," you joke back. and he knows it by your tone.
"i could never bring myself to do that. as much as you deserve it." your banter eases the pressure, and you feel chris squeeze your hands in his again.
you rub your thumbs over his knuckles, looking at the little purple marks forming. he notices your face drop with stress, and he slips his hands away, moving to your hips instead.
"hey, i'm fine. i don't care what happens to me, i just need you to be okay."
"i am okay," you reply. he drops his face with a look that expresses he doesn’t believe you. you give a light eyeroll, and small smile.
"i mean it, i swear.” you raise your pinkie finger to him, to keep your promise. knowing it’s the only way he’ll actually believe you.
chris smiles, weak with his bruised lip, and wraps up your pinkie with his own, wriggling your hands around.
"i'm always gonna want to protect you." he pulls you toward his body. he's so warm, and radiates a magnetic energy that makes you want to collapse into his arms.
you know you don't need him to, but deep down, you would like his protection. his unconditional love. selflessness.
"i'll be sure to send you love letters in jail" you grin up at him, and laughs from the chest.
his voice is like a scratched record, fatigue taking over his body. you swallow hard, all of your senses coming back. he feels so real standing in front of you all of a sudden, like it's not just a dream you're about to wake up from.
"stay the night." you speak mindlessly.
chris brushes your hair from your face, cupping the back of your neck lightly to pull your forehead to his lips, kissing just above your eyebrows gently. he rests his chin on the crown of your head, pulling you tight to his chest in an embrace.
"i'll stay forever if you ask me to."
this is the feeling he fights for. requited love.
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zanarkandskylines · 2 months
Text
You carry Bakugo back to his dorm room. 『 ♡ - k.bakugo x fem!reader 』 -`✧ katsuki bakugo masterlist 
A quiet night at the dorms of UA, you're sitting in Midoriya's dorm room with Bakugo. The three of you are studying for an upcoming exam while sprawled out with notebooks and text books haphazardly all over the floor.
The time is slowly creeping up to 10:00pm - way past Bakugo's "normal" bedtime. He's leaning on his elbow while annotating a paragraph in his textbook, eyes slowly drooping shut. The pen in his hand grows looser as his arm rocks back and forth, about to collapse at any moment and let his head rest on the pages.
Midoriya shoots a glance your way, silently acknowledging how exhausted Bakugo looks. You both had attempted, multiple times, to get him to go to bed. He refused.
"I can fuckin' finish this. It's only a few more pages."
Bakugo was determined, and stubborn, to get his work done - just like anything else in his life. You peer out of the corner of your eye as he shifts, crossing his arms over the textbook and laying his head down on his forearms.
"Kat, you can go to bed if you're wiped out," you say, patting him on the shoulder. "Studying on top of sparring is enough to kick anyone's ass."
Bakugo grunts, sighing into the papers beneath him. " 'm fine."
You look at Midoriya and mouth, 'he'll be out in five minutes or less.'
And like clockwork, Bakugo passes the hell out, snoring atop the open textbook.
You gently stroke his back to get his attention. "Kat, come on. Let's get you to bed."
He doesn't stir at your voice or touch but rolls over on his side. You shake your head, chuckling to yourself as you cast a smile in Midoriya's direction. It's a good thing you're a hero in training or you wouldn't have the strength to do what you're about to.
In one fluid motion, you bend over and scoop Bakugo into your arms and lift him from the floor. He's much lighter than you expected him to be - you always assumed he'd be dense from the sheer amount of muscle mass that adorned his figure. He still doesn't wake and lulls his head against your arm, mouth hanging open and snoring peacefully.
'Wow, he must be exhausted if this isn't enough to wake him.'
Midoriya opens the door for you and follows you upstairs. He opens the door to Bakugo's room for you as well, considering you - quite literally - have your hands full. He waves and mouths 'good night!' as he shuts the door to leave.
Making your way over to Bakugo's bed, you carefully lower him onto the cool sheets and maneuver your arms out from underneath him. As you're pulling away, he sleepily grasps at your shoulders and pulls, causing you to come crashing down on top of him.
'Damn, even in his sleep he's strong,' you think to yourself, flustered and afraid you'll wake him up.
He swiftly turns over, snaking his arms around your waist, intertwining his legs with your own and nestling his head above yours.
"K-Katsuki...?" you mumble, confused as your cheeks flare with heat by the sudden close body contact. You hope that your face isn't as scorching hot as it feels when it squishes up against his chest.
"Mm...don't go," Bakugo slurs, still halfway in dreamland. "Stay."
"...did you let me carry you to bed just so you could cuddle with me?" you ask, perplexed. He grunts in response and squeezes you tighter.
"You son of a bitch," you curse playfully. "If you wanna be carried like a princess to bed, just ask."
" 'm not a princess," he murmurs as he's nuzzling into your hair like a cat begging for attention.
"You just didn't wanna ask to go to bed in front of Izuku, didn't you?"
"...Nuh uh."
You snort as you shimmy in his hold to get comfortable. By the time you settle on a position, he's fallen back into a deep slumber, chest rhythmically rising and falling with hushed breath. He looks so angelic when he's dreaming.
It's too bad he turns into a devil the second he's awake.
i just wanna hold him tight and squish his cheeks - ya know??
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mysacredmuse · 2 months
Note
hello!! can i req some hcs w aventurine?
ykw how his eyes are so bright n pretty? imagine s/o just staring into them and admiring them instead of harassing him n stuff... i think its so cute
his eyes are so captivating!!! s/o just grabbing his face and staring at his eyes silently LMAO, n hes just like ??? what
i'd imagine s/o rambling about the colours of it n everything, esp as an artist myself haha im literally in love w them
hello there !!! of course you can, I absolutely love this request :) as soon as I saw him, his eyes caught my attention, such a beautiful design !! I am not an artist, so I wish you can forgive me if I describe something poorly, but I hope it will be enjoyable for you regardless :) <3
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soft bf! aventurine and admiring his pretty eyes <3, written with gender neutral reader in mind, fluff ! :)
dividers by @/cafekitsune :)
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he doesn't get it at first. You constantly ask him to widen his eyes at you, staring at them with a soft smile on your face. Anytime you take a picture of him or a picture together, you just zoom into his eyes and stare for literal minutes, without uttering a word. Sometimes he teases you, asking is that the only quality of his that you like, as if he doesn't have so much more beauty to offer. He will buy a new outfit, showing it off to you and all you say is how the light blue really gives a captivating effect to his eyes?
when you go to sleep, he stares into your lips in order to give you a hint that he wants a kiss while you keep staring into his eyes. He jokingly tells you that they aren't worth anything if your plan is to sell them, little creep. You just reply how they are worthy everything to you, tone quite offended which turns into an endless ramble of yours :3
you begin explaining to him how his eyes are the most unique thing you have ever seen, how the contrast of pink and blue never looks as good as it does in his eyes. You explain how pink resembles softness, warmth, femininity, romance and tenderness, while the blue contrasts it with depth, light, slight masculinity, firmness, yet safety and comfort
you continue explaining to him that the pink could easily represent a soft sunset, while the blue contains freedom and beauty of an ocean, so anytime he misses any of those - all he has to do is look into his own eyes. You explain that the colors in his eyes are quite literal epitome of love which proves that he was made out of deep love and his existence is a proof of love itself <3
he just smiles awkwardly, his heart softening from your words, but he urges you to go to sleep as you are speaking "nonesense" 😒
he finds you getting lost in his eyes all the time, sometimes having to snap his fingers in order to gain your attention. A secret he won't tell you is that sometimes he lets it go on for as long as possible as he never had anyone look into his eyes so lovingly, praise them so wholeheartedly and find beauty in them :)
you also grow a habit to squish his cheeks, enjoying how his pretty eyes widen at you from suddeness. He often acts like it's annoying him that you do that only because he gets so flustered, heart beating so fast as you stare so tenderly into his eyes <3
anytime he wears sunglasses of any kind, you immediately remove them, just blankly staring into his eyes and scolding him for hiding them away from you. You also grow a habit to point at a pink sunset that arises while mixing with blue sky at places and tell him that those are his eyes, trying to make him understand their beauty :3
through you, he learns to love his own eyes more and find pride in them. He used to avoid his own gaze in the mirror, wear sunglasses as his eyes often inviting rude comments, humiliation and overall hatred, whether it was his own or from other people. You taught him to love himself more and now he finds himself looking for clothes that put an accent on his eyes, just to hear more of your loving praises and compliments :)
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cherubfae · 2 months
Text
love letters || hazbin x reader
with Alastor, Lucifer, Sir Pentious, Angel Dust, Husk, & Vox!
You think you're being sooo sneaky leaving all these sweet love letters for your favorite guy. You're not. They 100% know but if they'll do anything about it is another question entirely.
tags: gn!reader! but implied male/masc reader for Angel ofc :3 mostly fluff!! mildly suggestive in Luci's & Vox's, slight angst for Angel, mention of alcohol consumption in Husk's! Alastor being his usual self lmao
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Alastor
You must think you are quite the clever little thing, leaving such sweet notes around for anyone to find. Little letters you think he doesn't know come from you. His shadows haunt every crevice aware of all that goes on within the hotel's interior, and especially those that dwell within his radio tower. It is amusing watching you slither into his abode to leave yet another sweetly decorated note on his control panel while Alastor lurks within the darker corners of his tower. Scarlet eyes soaking you in like a lion hunting a gazelle.
Then, like smoke, you slip out the hatch and down the ladder towards the hotel as quickly as death. Trying to seem casual, whistling an off-key tune.
Curious, he grins. What a curious creature you are, hmm? He picks the letter up, his red claw caressing the crease of the seal. His name stares up at him, written in exquisite cursive and emboldened red ink he wished was blood.
With a single claw he slits open the top of the envelope with the precision of a surgeon's scalpel, withdrawing its contents that had piqued his interest. Immediately, his smirk widens. Positively Cheshire-like.
"My, my, darling. You are endearing, I hope you know that!" Alastor cooed with crackling static. He traced his finger along the penmanship.
He pictures you hunched over your desk fretting over such a delicate piece of stationery. Your words oozed admiration for the Radio Demon. How truly touching! The sentiment was most definitely mutual. Next time, he'll be sure to catch you in the act, little lamb.
Lucifer
The King of Hell was quick to move in upon Charlie's insistence. Eager to make up for lost time with his daughter, he takes on all sorts of tasks and attends every event she has planned. Every team-building exercise, there was Lucifer at the forefront; lest his rubber duck depression returned.
Initially, he's quite confused by the sight of a white and gold foiled envelope placed neatly on the center of his pillow when he returns to his quarters to rest. He's never seen his name written with such care. The scent of love and genuine fondness exudes from the small parcel and tempts his senses. It catches him off guard, a puff of hot air escaping his lips, blinking owlishly.
He's lightheaded as he reads the letter with one hand braced against the wall beside him. An apple-red blush coats his cheeks and creeps down his neck. The scent of you clouds his mind and corrupts his thoughts. He's starting to feel dizzy yet oh-so-happy!
You... You wrote this didn't you, sweetling? Red eyes wash over the page. He closes his eyes and presses the letter to his lips as he leans his back into the wall. It's surely from you, but why didn't you just come and talk to him instead of being all mysterious and cryptic? Has he not made his affections for you clear enough? Perhaps you were shy and felt more confident in staying anonymous.
Lucifer couldn't promise you or himself that he wouldn't go and find you immediately after he calmed down enough to be well-composed in a public space. He was practically vibrating with excitement.
Shaking out his hands and jumping in place, Lucifer straightens his tie. If all goes to plan, he'll have you snuggled in his warm embrace as he flies over Pentagram City before sundown.
Of course, he will make sure all six of his massive wings are preened and looking their best first. Hey, he is the King of Hell after all! He's gonna show off for you a little.
"Alright, darlin', I hope you're ready for a night on the town." Lucifer sucked in a sharp breath and exited his room swiftly making his way to you.
Sir Pentious
Sweet man is so flabbergasted! Surely this is a prank, yes? No? Oh my, then that must mean--! His pupils dilate and water, a big cheesy grin sneaks across his cheeks. His tail swishes behind him lightly and it's hard to fight the blush off his cheeks. It takes everything in him to collect his breath as he clutches the letter to his chest.
"What'cha got there, boss?" Points out one of his Egg Bois. Sir Pentious all but squeaks and shoves the paper unceremoniously into his breast pocket.
Pentious rasps, "No-nothing that needs to concern you!"
"Oh, okay!" Chirps his Egg Boi, waddling off.
Sir Pentious sighs, slitted eyes wander over to where you sit at the bar engaged in deep conversation with Angel and Husk. There's a weird tug in his chest he's never felt before. A longing. You catch his eye and give a gentle smile and offer him a tiny wave which he returns eagerly. He sighs dreamily, coiling in on his tails. I hope I may catch you at a more opportune time, my heart.
Angel Dust
Whenever he's had a particularly rough night at Valentino's, Angel retrieves a pastel blue shoe box from deep within his closest, almost completely filled to the brim with letters, gifts, and keepsakes you'd given him. Even the silly little half-assed doodle you made of him as a spider. He saved it all.
You're so cute, thinking that you're all anonymous when you are absolutely not, leaving him the cutest fuckin' letters that make him want to explode. It's nice. Having someone want you and not for sex. The pure heart of gold of yours was gonna be the double-death of him.
Angel hasn't quite worked up the nerve to ask you out yet. It's something he ponders every day, especially when reading your newest letter. He feels too stuck, too... Fucked up. That's not something he'd wanna put on you. You've never treated him like anything but a person. You saw the real him.
Instead, he lives for your letters. Wishing things could be different, that he could find the power to cut the contract with Valentino, and truly become yours when he's no longer that fucker's pet.
His eyes well with tears as he cradles your latest letter, praising him for how well he'd done at Charlie's little team-building experiment. He pretends it's you that he's holding. His fingers combing through your hair, smiling to himself when you lazily lean up his body to kiss him ever-so-softly. A true kiss made of real love, not lust. You snuggle into his chest fluff with your arms around his waist.
"Baby, I," with a blink, Angel is back to reality. The weight on his chest had only been a snoozing Fat Nuggets. Angel sighs, stroking his little buddy's ears. "Maybe one day, I can be strong enough for both of us, baby." He says out loud, hoping your heart will find his words.
Husk
He's quick to snatch the new letter up before anyone else sees, sending his half-drunk whiskey all across the countertop with a clang. Husk cussed under his breath, stashing your thankfully dry letter beneath the bar for safe-keeping until he could read it later.
"Why'dja gotta leave it out in the open?" Husk grumbles without malice. The playful sway of his raised feathery tail and soft hum as he wipes up his spilled drink was always a good sign of his rare, pleasant mood.
You're growing more and more bold with each letter. Leaving them places where someone other than Husk could accidentally misinterpret them: Charlie.
The last thing he needed was the well-meaning Princess of Hell to overextend herself and start playing matchmaker. Husker was doing just aces on his own. His love life was his and his alone to fuss about. He finished cleaning up the bar for the night, keeping the booze secure in its display case until the following day.
Husk peruses the letter freely in the privacy of his bedroom, one arm folded beneath his head. His golden eyes flicked from word to word. His pupils expand as he exhales an airy chuckle, lingering on the word handsome. The sound of his own trill rumbling in his throat startles him enough to drop the letter and slam his elbow into his nightstand.
Hissing, Husk pressed his palms against his shut eyelids. "Fuck, baby, ya really got this ol' cat comin' undone, huh? Sneaky little minx." He lied back down with a huff. "If only ya knew." His eyes slip shut. Tomorrow. Husk would finally approach you tomorrow.
Vox
"I see you still don't wanna text these, huh, baby?" Vox scoops up the letter taking residence on his seat, hastily clawing it open. He plops down on his chair, leaning back. "Too shy to be so vulnerable for me?" Vox's sharp-toothed grin spreads wide across his display screen, red dripping from the corner of his mouth as he hungrily drinks in your words.
"You are too fuckin' cute, aren't'cha, darlin'?" Vox chuckles, smashing his fist against his console with triumph. A bolt of electricity spirals around the system, causing him to yelp as it spans across the entire city. He created another blackout. "FUCK."
Vox is at your doorstep in a matter of minutes despite the darkness of Pentagram City. The forever-flushed red sky is light enough to find your apartment building. He's dressed in a new suit and feigned ignorance when you opened your door, holding a new letter. Surprised to see him there. Hah, caught with your hand in the fuckin' cookie jar, babe.
Allowing him into your home, Vox easily towers over you with a big grin. You looked fuckin' adorable, staring up at him so meekly.
"You didn't need to hide your feelings from me, sweetheart." He gently tilts your chin upwards. A single cyan claw grazes the line of your jaw, sliding to cup your cheek with his full palm.
"Vox, I," you stammer. Your sentence goes no further than those two small words. Vox traces your lower lip with the tip of his sharp thumb, smiling as your eyes flutter shut. He waits to see if you continue to speak and when you don't, he nods and tugs you to him by your hips. You gasp against him and he smiles, a bit softer now.
|| I DON'T GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY WORKS TO BE REPOSTED, RESHARED, OR EDITED. TUMBLR IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT AND THE ONLY PLACE WHERE I POST MY WRITING. ALL CHARACTERS BELONG TO THEIR RIGHTFUL OWNERS, THE STORY BELONGS TO ME. || CHERUBFAE © 2024
"I know, baby. I've gotcha," Vox's mouth presses tight to yours, lifting you up further into his arms for better access. Electricity soon ignites the house and city, Velvette must've gotten things running again.
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msgexymunson · 2 years
Text
Red Handed
Exhibitionist!Fem!reader x soft!dom!Eddie
Description: the Polaroids had started out as just a joke, until you realised how much it turned you on taking them
A/N: this is from an anon ask, hope you don't mind where I went with it. Blended in a bit of exhibitionism and I was liberal with the 'object' Eddie recognises...
Warnings: lotta smut, hella angst, bitta fluff (nice ending we all need love in our lives) reader uses she/her pronouns (minors DNI I will tell your mothers) F! Masturbation, oral M! Receiving, unprotected sex (use some sense y'all) again I'm english so if any americanisms seem odd soz babe. Comments and reblogs are a writers best friend.
Word count: 4.7k
Masterlist
The school hallway was bustling. Teenagers were scooting through, talking loudly, making their way to first period. Some jocks were laughing in a group by the water fountain. A gaggle of nerds were inching cautiously past, sneakers squeaking on the linoleum floor. Stood by your locker, you were taking your time gathering your text books. You were waiting, desire and angst flowing and intermingling in a hot mess in your gut.
Finally, a mop of messy brown locks bursts into view. Eddie's gait is chipper, practically bouncing down the hall. Eddie, your best friend. Who is about to see you nearly naked. Not that he has any idea of course.
"Mornin' princess!" Eddie beams, flashing pearly teeth.
"Well aren't you full of the joys of Spring?" Smiling back at him; it was infectious. Eddie was a ray of sunshine for anyone who actually knew him.
"Just feel good today, have a feeling I might be lucky, you know?" He says, fixing his eyes on his locker, turning the combination.
You wait with bated breath as the door springs open and a small square envelope falls out. Eddie bends lightning fast and grabs it off the floor. Flipping it over, he sees a tiny red heart drawn in the corner. Eddie practically punches the air.
"I fuckin' knew it, today's my day!" He says half to himself, ripping the envelope open. Taking out some Polaroids his jaw drops. You watch as a blush creeps from his neck, up his jaw, and flushes his cheeks. You can feel a mirror of that blush, but the heat was travelling between your legs. God, this is such a turn on. If only he knew. He turns and presses his back against the lockers, hand on his forehead, gawping. He moves the pile to the next one, eyes bulging, then to the final photo.
"Holy shit." His hand compulsively strokes the back of his neck, eyes wide.
"Guessing you got another present then? A good one?" Knowing full well the answer. He nods emphatically, eyes not leaving the Polaroid. The reaction was everything you ever wanted. You don't need to ask what the pictures show, you took them.
The first image was you in your red lace bra and panties, perched on the edge of a desk, legs crossed. The next, your legs are wide open. The final picture was similar to the first, but this time you had removed your bra, your free hand teasing one of your nipples. None of them showed your face of course. Couldn't have Eddie knowing his shy, unassuming best friend was actually a filthy exhibitionist after all.
"You just need to ask her out Eddie, surely you must know who this is?" You try to keep a straight face, but it doesn't matter, Eddie's still looking at the picture. Your words shake him a little out of his daydream state.
"Sweetheart, when I find out who this is I'm gonna fuckin' marry her." You laugh loudly at that.
"Hang on, these are- fuck!" He looks at you. Fuckfuckfuck has he spotted something?
"These are taken at school! That's our English class! Jesus Christ, this is the girl of my dreams" he groans, leaning his head back, bashing it against the lockers. The bell rings.
"Come on lover boy, let's get to class." You bound off with Eddie at your heels, grinning to yourself and hugging your books.
*************************
It had all started as a joke really. Payback. You and the rest of Hellfire, your D & D club, were hanging out, talking shit as per usual. Dustin was gushing about his super hot, super nerdy girlfriend and Eddie was throwing m&ms at him.
"Hey! Just 'cause your jealous! You should go and find a girl instead of giving me shit about mine!" Dustin complains.
"Well, that would be great and all, but I don't even know any girls dingus. Only hang out with you losers." He says, throwing another m&m.
Dustin pointed at you, "y/ns a girl."
Eddie sniggered. "She doesn't count, she's one of us." He playfully punched you on the arm. You pressed your lips together firmly, feeling the tips of your ears go red.
'She doesn't count?' What the fuck. What am I, meatloaf or something? You should have said it out loud, but you just couldn't bring yourself to.
Once the embarrassment had worn off, you were angry. Storming into your room, you had flopped onto your bed, holding your face, biting back hot tears. Eddie was, well, everything. And you didn't count. The words were burning in your head. You'd been nursing this crush on him for a while, and apparently you may as well not exist. Pulling your hands away from your face you glance over at your desk to see your Polaroid camera sitting there. Hmmm. I'll teach him a lesson.
You took your bed sheet and hung it over your wardrobe. Standing in front of it, you whipped off your jeans and t shirt, changing into a tight strappy top, and posed. It was tricky to take a picture on your own and you messed up the first two, but the third was good. You could see your chest, nipples poking at the fabric, braless, and the side of your thigh was on display. Angling the camera to take a photo of your ass, you managed it on the first go. Lacy black panties riding high, showing the shape of your butt, it was actually a flattering image. I'll show you I count Munson.
That was the first time you had snuck Polaroids in his locker.  You had watched him from around the corner, seen his puzzlement on finding the envelope with the heart on it. When he opened it his jaw fell open, looking around, trying to see if it was a joke. You felt smug. Walking over you grinned at Eddie.
"Hey Munson what you got there?"
"I-I think, maybe... erm, someone got the wrong locker? There's these, erm, photos. Fuck." He's not forming proper sentences, looking flushed and bewildered.
Suddenly it's hard to breathe. You can feel your pulse deep inside, heat pouring out of you. What the hell. This was about getting him back, but the thought of him seeing you in that state, showing your body to him, was intoxicating. Especially since he didn't know it was you.
You tried to steady your breathing. "Maybe you have a secret admirer?" You said, voice much calmer than you felt.
"Shit you think so?" He stared at you with big wide eyes; the look nearly broke you. You just couldn't reveal that it was a joke, not now. He looked so hopeful.
For a few days, you had thought maybe that was that. You had proven your point after all, even if it was only to yourself. That all fell apart when you brought the camera to The Hideout, and took a picture of Eddie on stage. He looked ethereal, this glowing God of a man, and you just had to. You made your way to the bathroom and stripped down to your underwear, taking a picture of you spread legged on the toilet seat, then another with your bra off, free arm covering your breasts.
It excited you; all of it. The sneaking around, the thrill that you might get caught, exposing yourself to Eddie. It made you feel alive. It made you feel dirty. Getting braver and more confident with each mini shoot, the locations got more and more risky. There was the toilets at school, then the woods just outside where Eddie did his deals. Now, Mrs O'Donnell's classroom. You had gotten to school at 6am for that one, the rush of potentially being caught red handed burning through your veins.
You knew it couldn't last though. Eventually you would need to stop. Eddie can be a bit dim sometimes, but surely he'd work it out, and then you'd have to admit your crush and potentially ruin your friendship. Plus, how self-conscious were you going to feel, knowing Eddie knew exactly what lay under your clothes?
One last time. You had said it before, but this time that was it, and you knew the perfect place.
*********************
It was 10pm the next day. Sitting in your car you were staking out the school, building up the nerve. The janitor had left some time ago, but you knew a side door that was never locked properly. Taking a deep breath, you grab your backpack, scoot out of your car and hurriedly make your way to the side of the school.
Moving through the hallways, you open up a small door and navigate your way around the drama room, coming to your destination. You grinned to yourself knowing this was going to blow Eddie's mind.
You're standing in front of Eddie's throne. His Hellfire seat, the one no one was allowed to touch, not even if someone else in the party ran a one shot. It was the cardinal rule. This was Eddie's spot.
Stripping off, you get entirely naked, shivering in the chilly air. Clearly the heating is turned off at night. You sit on the throne, arousal flowing through you already at the thought of what you were about to do, toying at your own nipples, getting them camera ready. The first shot you take both your legs are draped over the arm of the throne. The next, you let one leg fall to the floor, legs spread, cunt on full display.
Softly dragging your hand down, you graze your clit, holding your breath in your throat. Another photo. You glide your fingers through your folds, feeling your wetness seeping out, your arousal already pooling around your entrance. Another photo. You slide two fingers in all the way, letting out a stifled whimper, body on fire despite the chilly air. Another photo.
Finally, you reach to the side, to your backpack at your feet and pull out your red dildo. It wasn't very long, but thick, and covered with small ridges to accentuate your pleasure. You took a photo with it in your hand, held against your naked chest, fingers shining with your slick, then teased it through your folds, gathering the collecting slick emanating from your cunt.
You plunge it into your heat and set a deep and unforgiving pace, angling the sex toy so it grazed your g spot. Another photo.
After that the camera becomes a burden; you hastily drop it on the table in front of you and concentrate on chasing your pleasure. A tight feeling gathers in your stomach, limbs warm, pursuing rapture. Your head starts to feel fuzzy, and you feel wrong for doing this here, in this sacred spot, but that just amplifies your arousal.
You think about what Eddie would say if he caught you right now. What would he do? Would he stand in shock? Walk out? Help you chase your release? Or just watch you? The thought of being caught by him pushed you over the precipice. You came over your hand with a broken groan, biting your lip to try and stifle your noises.
Panting, you remove the toy from inside you, gasping for breath. You have a look at the discarded Polaroids. The last one was hot as hell, back arched, tits on display, red toy slightly blurry as it pounded into you. Holy shit. Eddie's going to explode. You giggle, getting your clothes back on and stuff together before sneaking out.
*********************
The next day you were practically buzzing with excitement, running over to your locker, when you see Eddie's already there. Shit.
"Hey sweetheart, where's the fire?" Eddie smirks at you out the side of his mouth, pushing his locker closed.
"You know me, just eager for a day of learning!" He chuckles at that. "You ok, any presents today?"
"Nope" Eddie says, looking slightly deflated. "Thought I'd try and get here early, see if I could catch them but no dice." He frowns.
"Well, can't be every day. Hey, remember we are hanging out tonight. This is a no frown zone!" You lightly push his arm.
"Oh yeah, yours or mine?"
"Mine. My parents arent home and your room stinks Eddie."
Eddie looks aghast and mimes being stabbed in the chest, flinging himself into the lockers, making an almighty racket.
"Oh, sweetheart, you wound me!"
Some students turn to see the commotion, others keep walking, used to his antics.
"Well it does! Learn to clean your sheets doofus. I'll see you later." You muss his hair and walk off, the envelope full of photos burning in your pocket.
*********************
After lunch you and Eddie make your way to your lockers, trying to stop the knowing smirk from crawling over your face. Earlier, you had managed to sneak out of biology, feigning 'women's problems' (your teacher waved their hand at you with a turned up nose, he clearly didn't want any details) in order to jam the photos into Eddie's locker and run.
When the envelope slips to the floor with a thwap Eddie looks seriously confused. He's had never had an afternoon delivery before. He quickly rips the envelope open and you watch as he seems to break down in front of your eyes. No sound leaves his lips, eyes wide, hand held to his mouth in shock, wheeling through image after image.
"You ok Eds?" You say softly. He doesn't answer for a bit, then coughs, shoving the photos into his pocket.
"Yeah. Fine. See you later." He faces the wall for a second, out the corner of your eye you see him attempt to arrange the growing bulge in his jeans. He tries to walk off whilst hunched over, taking long strides. You turn to follow him with your eyes, and see him practically jogging to the bathroom.
Jesus Christ is he gonna rub one out? The thought blazed in your brain, thinking about Eddie frantically fucking his fist with your photo in the other hand, sweaty and desperate. Sighing, you tense your thighs, saving that image for another time, and make your way to class.
*********************
After having takeout for dinner, you were sprawled on the foot of your queen sized bed, flicking through a magazine. Eddie was leaning up against your pillows, getting a baggy out so you two could have an after dinner smoke. Led Zeppelin is softly playing from your tape deck, much to Eddie's annoyance.
"Seriously, this again? Can't we listen to something else?"
"Nu-uh. My bedroom my rules." You say back, as you had a dozen times before.
Eddie grumbles under his breath, but you know there's no spite in it.
You see Eddie fumbling around out the corner of your eye, patting his pockets.
"Lighters on the bedside table." You say without looking.
"Aha, there you are you little sucker" he grabs the lighter and sparks the joint, taking a few hits.
"You want some of this?" He waves the joint, winking at you. You feel a shiver shoot down your spine, wishing he had meant something else besides the smoke.
"Of course I do, why do you think I hang around with you," you wink back, winding him up.
"Well shit you ain't having any now!" He says, holding his hand high in the air.
You huff at him, stretching over, trying to grab it from waving fingers. You lean further into him but he bends right back into the gap in your pillows, hand underneath them. Suddenly his eyes widen, grin threatening to split his face in half.
"You can take it" he says, passing the spliff to you whilst you stare at him confused.
"I've found something better" he says in a sing song voice, and pulls his hand out from its hiding place, holding your dildo in his hand, waving it at you and laughing.
Shit! You'd forgotten you had jammed it there before he came round! You'll never hear the end of this.
Eddie, still chuckling, looks at it, seemingly for the first time. It drops out of his hand as if it had burned him and rolls off the bed, onto the floor. Eddie's staring at you in shock. You felt your stomach drop out from under you, realising a bad situation just got worse. It was the toy you had used in the last batch of photos. It sat on the floor, glaring at you, matt red. It felt like it was burning a whole in your carpet, setting your friendship with Eddie ablaze.
"Sweetheart..."
You look down, and put the joint in the ashtray next to you. Twisting your hands, you  play with your rings, unable to meet his stare.
"Look, it was supposed to be a joke, I was just getting you back, you know, after what you said? And I started enjoying it and I-I like you and I didn't mean it to go so far and..."
"Will you look at me?" Eddie's voice trembles slightly.
You scrunch your eyes shut, hot tears spilling out the creases of your eyes, running down your cheeks, leaving salty embarrassed trails in their wake.
"I think I'd rather die than look at you right now. I'm so fuckin' embarrassed and stupid, you might as well just leave, I'm a creep, I'm so, so sorry-"
Firm lips press against yours. You lean back in shock, not expecting the sudden kiss. When you dare to look Eddie is staring straight at you, eyes soft, hand reaching out to your fidgeting digits, trying to calm you down.
"I had to-to do something..." your words dwindling.
"You said I said something, what did I say?" He holds your hands, massaging your fingers softly.
"You.. said I didn't count."
"When?" He exclaims, word tinged in disbelief.
"Dustin said I was a girl, and you said I didn't count. I just wanted to show you, I do count. I dunno, I just wanted you to pay attention to me." You gaze at him, hurt etched into your brow.
"Oh sweetheart" holding his hand to your cheek, he strokes your jaw "I didn't mean it like that, I was just tryin' to take attention away from you is all. What was I supposed to do, ask you out on the spot?" He chuckles, pulling you in for another kiss.
This time you're ready, kissing him back with urgency. His lips are surprisingly soft; the kiss tastes of weed, cigarettes and gum, and maybe the lingering hint of strawberry chapstick that glosses your mouth. You both open your mouths, tongues clashing, fighting for dominance. It's messy, and passionate, and everything you could have hoped for. Both of his hands snake to the back of your head, pushing you towards him to deepen the kiss. Your breathing becomes laboured, hands grasping at his t shirt, balling it in your fists for something to grab onto. You nibble at his bottom lip, eliciting a breathy sigh from him.
Eddie breaks from the kiss and moves his mouth to your neck, mouthing and biting, hands running down your back.
"Well," he whispers into your skin between sucks to your throat, "who knew you were such a deviant." He bites into your shoulder through your t shirt making you cry out.
"I-I'm not a deviant" you struggle out, nails raking into the bare skin of his arms.
"Oh really? At The Hideout? At school? On my throne? You're a naughty girl" he gives you a self satisfied smirk and runs his tongue up the length of your neck, drawing out a loud cry from your throat.
"It felt good" you admit to him, "I liked the feeling, that I might get caught." You're cheeks redden at the confession. You had barely confessed it to yourself.
"Such a filthy girl. Jesus Christ, the things I've thought about." He pulls at the hem of your top; you comply, pulling it over your head, exposing your breasts since you had forgoed a bra.
Eddie's groan at your bare breasts vibrates through the air in the room and straight to your cunt. His eyes look like they are about to pop right out of his head.
"The photos didn't do you justice darling. Holy shit, look at you."
You steal the moment he's taken to stare and worship.
"So, are you gonna marry me now Munson?' You joke, biting your lip and smiling.
"Eventually. First? First I'm gonna..." he takes your nipple between his teeth, biting softly, and you take a shocked breath, "I'm gonna absolutely rail you" he takes your nipple into his mouth fully and sucks hard, squeezing the other so much it borders on pain. You wail his name in response. It releases from his mouth with a wet sound. "I'm gonna fuck you everywhere you took a picture."
You laugh incredulously, then look at his eyes, and see his solemn stare in response. Oh, he was being serious. Your pussy contracted at the thought, squeezing around an imaginary length. "You'd like that wouldn't you, you dirty girl?"
You can only hum in response, tugging at his t shirt. He whips it off, allowing your fingers to explore his unchartered skin, running fingertips over his unseen tattoos. Hands stroking, caressing his flesh. Eddie groans at your touches and reaches to undo his jeans, belt undone, popping the button.
He licks the flat of his tongue across your nipple, making you whimper. "You think you can help me out?" Gesturing to his crotch.
"Mmm yeah" you breathe, fumbling with the fly, pulling it down and pushing him backwards onto the bed. You see his boxers,  and reach out to pull them down and release his swollen cock. It pops up, rising from the base of brunette curls, curving slightly at the tip, girthy and dribbling. You kneel between his legs and take the tip into your mouth, moaning around his length. Eddie nearly bucks into your mouth at the feeling, trying so hard not to fuck into your throat.
You take more of his length, nose pressed to his curls, gagging slightly. Eddie makes a high pitched moan. God, the feeling of him at your mercy makes your core hum with need. You run your tongue around his member and lick the sensitive tip, hands slightly squeezing the base.
"Fuck princess I, I can't last if you do that!" He pulls you off and stares in your eyes.
"Where did you take the pictures. I know you must have taken some in here."
You point wordlessly to the white fluffy rug in front of your wardrobe.
"Stand up." You can't find it in you to disobey.
Eddie's strong hands stroke down your sides, making their way to your jeans, undoing them and tugging them down to your ankles along with your underwear. There you stood, completely exposed to him. You could feel yourself dripping almost, slick feathering your thighs.
Eddie licks his lips. "Fuck you are so hot. I wanna taste you. But not now. Get on your hands and knees." He roughly handles you into position and you gasp at how dominant he is being. Every word is shooting to your core, making you throb with need.
You do as you are asked, on your hands and knees, waiting to see what was next.
Rough fingertips graze your heat making you cry out.
"Easy baby, gotta get you ready for me." He slips a finger into your pussy and you squeeze around it desperately, back arching. Slowly, he pumps it in and out, watching you squeal and squirm. The lewd wet noise is echoing through the room along with your moans. He adds another finger and you buck into his hand, fucking yourself onto his digits.
"Shit baby you gonna cum already? Fuck." He pumps his fingers into you faster, curling them into you.
"Eddie yes fuck!" You release suddenly, unexpectedly, squealing his name like a prayer. The molten red hotness of your orgasm peels through your every vein. Panting and sweaty you look back at him.
"Fuck me, you're as pretty as a picture." He chuckles darkly, pulling his boxers down.
"You got a condom baby?"
"No, no please just fuck me, I'm on the pill."
"Jesus Christ you are filthy, gonna fuck this pussy good yeah?"
You push back in response, your soaked lips touching the tip of his cock. He pushes into you, the filthiest moan escaping his lips.
This is what you had been craving. The sneaking around, the thrill of being caught, it was nothing compared to feeling his throbbing dick inside of you, stretching out your cunt so much no other dick could possibly compare. It hurt, but it was breathtaking. A pain you wanted to feel over and over. Eddie gave you a moment to get used to him, hands pressing into the fat of your hips, molding into his palms. Then he did as he said he would, railing into you at an unforgiving pace, pounding you from behind so roughly you were practically screaming. It was animalistic and feral and you fucking loved it. Every thrust was fire, the way he grabbed at you was possessiveness personified. He owned you.
You had never known a boy to be so loud before. His moans and cries were stabbing at you as much as his cock was.
"You like that sweetheart? Gonna fuckin' ruin you." Thrusting, stabbing into you, he grabbed you by your throat, pulling you bodily upwards. You could feel the cold of his rings pressed against you. He squeezed and you let out the longest, loudest moan you'd ever known, crushing his cock with how tight you were inside. Your orgasm came quickly, breaking you down into pieces. You became undone, a broken shell, moans and whines flowing from your lips.
You fell to the floor, hips only staying in place due to his strong hands. He'd released your throat, letting your head flop down, driving into you with even more force.
The overstimulation turned you into a screaming hot mess, but Eddie wasn't done with you yet. Pushing your head down into the rug he continued to force into you hard and fast until his movements began to falter and he released into your cunt. You felt his cum hit your gummy walls and the feeling was just too much, you were so sensitive and sore from the way he had used you. Tears streaked your cheeks, hot against your flushed face. Utterly and completely fucked.
You both stopped, frozen in that ridiculous position, until you felt his fingertips grazing your back tenderly, a harsh contrast from the previous moment you had shared together.
"Was that ok?" Barely a whisper, as if he thought you might blow away in the breeze.
"...yeah" you manage to gasp out, trying to lift yourself, suddenly unable to support the weight of your own head.
"Shit sweetheart sorry." Eddie pulled out from you and you whined at the loss. You'd never felt so empty. But then he was there, lifting your upper half up, getting you to lay back so he could pick you up bodily and lay you out on the bedclothes. Your knees were sore and red and your pussy lips were painful and swollen.
Eddie walked off to your bathroom, returning with a warm cloth. The tenderness honestly surprised you. Never had a boy tried to take care of you after. He swept the cloth between your folds, making you hiss at the contact. Eddie shushed you, cleaning you up. Then he laid facing you, hand brushing your side.
"You ok sweetheart?" He look on his face was practically dripping with concern, his hands roaming over you, trying to soothe and console you.
"Yes baby, fuck that was..  that was something else" you giggle at him, fingers drifting over his torso, feeling at the relaxed muscles.
"So, a nap, then a drive yeah?"
"What??"
"What's the next spot? The Hideout? Don't think I'm finished with you yet, I've got a promise to deliver future Mrs Munson."
You laugh out loud, holding him tightly.
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creepy-friday · 6 months
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PLS PLS PLS I NEED MORE PROXY THINGS I KEEP REREADING THE OLD ONES AND U WRITE SO WELL
Sure thing!I noticed a lot of people are rereading the old ones so I promise I will come back with more ideas!
Female!Proxy toughts Headcanons for every creep of the mansion
Warnings: foul language, suggestive themes, violence
Masky thinks he should've been in your place.He wants your attention but at the same time hates your guts.Always wants to pick a fight with you,maybe he's in such a contradiction with himself because your personality softened his sharp edges making him confused.
Hoodie acts all buddy-buddy with you when the two of you aren't on duty.He doesn't hide the way the tension rises from other people's perspective when he talks to you.He's simply curious about who you truly are,an individual like you in such a fucked up place and in such a high position is..intriguing to say at least.
Toby follows your orders and values your presence the most out of the other proxies he's biased. Because he's been taken advantage of many times,your humanity sparked his hope,he thinks that in you he can actually find something heart warming in this hell hole.
Cody is a little annoying at times.Since you didn't shove him off he deeply thinks you're into him,that's why he keeps on inviting you to see the dangerous shit he's creating.
Kate uses every chance she has to imply that you have sexual relationships with the proxies.She's isn't jealous nor wants to take your place,she simply sees herself as slightly superior since she's been here before you.
Jeff has personal issues with every resident near him,including you.He doesn't think of himself as highly as Masky tough.All the mocking and tantrums are because he doesn't belive your good intentions.
Ben is a fucking menace and fucks with your head since he knows you can't physically hurt him.He thinks you're by far the most interesting creep to watch.
EJ respects you.He thinks that you are disgusted by him almost as he is of himself given your role as a demon hunter.His insecurity made him give up any reason to try to talk to you.Watching from afar he knows you're one of the few residents that are still human by heart.
Liu has a very high opinion about yourself.You already proved to be a good person to him when you took EJ's side in an argument with Masky.He would make conversation with you whenever you two are around.
Sully might act like Liu around you so that he can see more of you.Just like other creeps,he fantasies about having a hand to hand spare with you.He talks to you like you're a pice of meat sometimes but he acknowledges your strength.
Slenderman's presence is being known by his general sickness to the other creeps but the fever is high and tormenting when it comes to you.It's clear that he favors you and the fact that he chose you as his watchdog is enough to bring your confidence skyrocket.
Jane watches you from afar.She thinks you're a good fit to be a leader.Surprisingly,she agreed with your every decision and never had anything to add or to take.
Zero is jealous of you and your high status.She despises your guts and would team up with anyone to put you down or to shame you.She's a bitch but I bet she would fuck you tough.She's the "do I want to be her or be with her?"
Clockwork likes how a woman is top shit and she treats you as an equal.Might ask you for your opinion and expects you to listen to hers as well.She thinks you're a good leader.
Nina adores you.You genuinely had a good impact on her mental health and looks up to you.She would be shocked if you would hurt her in any way,after everything she went trough all she needs is a friend.The choice is yours.
Sally thinks that you are really cool and wishes you would take that mask off more often.Since you don't brush her off like the others she's looking forward to talk to you when you're not busy.Confidently slips tea parties invites down your door.
Bloody Painter is mostly indifferent to the power dynamics in the mansion.Sure,he will be respectful to you since that's in his personality but he's apathetic to anything that isn't "aesthetically pleasing".He judges a book by its cover and the ghoul-like design on your mask makes him believe you're no different from the creatures you encounter in the forest.Misunderstanding at its best
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