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screampied · 20 days

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‘ #KNOCK(HER)OUT ! ’

ᡴꪫ‎ sum. you get more than what you bargained for by getting involved with two boxers—two boxers that can’t keep their hands off the pretty new journalist. what happens in the ring stays in the ring though…. right?

wc. 5.7k

warnings. fem! reader x t. fushiguro & s. ryōmen, boxer!au, thrēesome, manhandling, unprotected, semi public, size kink, ōral (f & m receiving), head lock, spīt, sqūirting, they fight over you, brēeding, fīngering, implied multiple ōrgasms, nipple play.

an. based on this ask, haven’t recovered since :,)

sukuna ryōmen and toji fushiguro. . .

the talk of the town. top most infamous boxers of your city, they were supposedly rivals but ended up becoming super close friends. 'friends' was probably a stretch. acquaintances was probably a far better word to describe the two. there was hardly anyone that didn’t tune into your detailed magazines about them—your occupation? a journalist. you’d be the first to write about their fights, their strengths, weaknesses, their total wins & losses, and even a few unnecessary things like their love life. you were new, but you were good. always in the front row, you’d watch them spar against some of the most scariest opponents imaginable. something about guys taking it out in the ring right before your eyes got your panties in a twist. how unprofessional..

you only did it for the money, the publicity— a lot of people adored your skill to make such stories so interesting. between toji and sukuna, they were almost always compared, and oh did they hate it. ex rivals continuously pinned against each other, it’d piss anyone off. although, you were in dire need for a new story topic to write and you just so happen to stumble into their private gym.

“yo,” a rough sly yet cunning voice mutters, and it’s so deep—you recognize it from anywhere, toji fushiguro in the flesh. “are ya lost? no fuckin’ autographs.”

“don’t be rude, ‘toj,” and your eyes avert towards sukuna— he’s a few inches taller and your eyes roam at them both. they had droplets of sweat racing down their washboard abs, scars coating their skin with ruffled hair as if they’d just finished a match. sukuna drags his feet towards you before his eyes light up. “ohh, i know you,” he snickers, grabbing your notepad before nudging his friend. “she’s our little journalist toji. and she’s a damn fine one too..”

“. . . uh,” was all you could make out, feeling a sudden tightness in your stomach. your eyes continue to stare, your lewd thoughts only become more and more vulgar. seconds pass before you realize sukuna took your notebook, toji pauses his sets to get a good look at you. “i thought this was the ladies' room.”

“girl bye,” toji grumbles with two hands buried into his shorts pockets— he reads right through you as if you were some sort of exposed novel. people said he was a lot sassier in person but you didn’t think it’d actually be true. green dark eyes linger onto you for a long time before he stretches, leaning down to get a good glimpse at your figure. “did you come here just to stare or what?”

you were taken aback at how blunt he was.

a coy grin appears on his lips as he watches you struggle to formulate a good enough response.

you were nosy, you were really really nosy. for once, perhaps you didn’t wanna just jot down things about these two— just maybe, just maybe . . you wanted a hands-on experience.

“i… needed new material for my article before the next match starts,” you utter, squeezing your thighs together. sukuna tilts his head, eyeing you in a way that makes you feel hot. toji’s stare was ten times more intimate, darkened irises practically staring right into your soul—you knew this wasn’t the bathroom, you were lying. “i was hoping maybe you’d give me some uh . . inspo.”

they were both towering over you with height, you felt small—like an ant that was preparing itself to be crushed by a villainous shoe.

“inspiration, she says?” sukuna hums, his voice is low—raspy, an almost purr hiding underneath it before he moves closer towards you. “just tell us what you really want, princess.”

“nah don’t get all shy now,” toji chimes in once he sees you grow more sheepish. they both close in on you—you felt like you were trapped in a fever dream, you weren’t exactly complaining either. they smelled so good, a mixture of sultry sweat and a loud scent of heavy cologne that wafts throughout the entire training room. “you got our attention so spit it out, girl.”

“i— i want you both.” you finally mutter after seven long consecutive seconds. with the way toji’s staring right through you, you felt like your stomach sank between your legs - your legs that were throbbing with nothing but mere arousal, again perhaps this was unprofessional. no, it was very unprofessional—but anyone would kill to be in your position, being sandwiched between the top two boxers of your city.

sukuna snickers. “both? what makes you think i’d wanna share with this bum?”

“shut up,” toji snarls, and the way his facial expressions tense a bit—so attractive. the headlines + press was right about toji, he was a lot more handsome in person. he was a fairly new boxer yet a pure lady's man. he’s had a plethora of fangirls while in the ring and maybe you were one of them. as he inches towards you with a hand softly gripping underneath your chin, he inhales. his entire facial structure, so chiseled—brief dark stubble coats the entirety lower half of his jaw and he rubs his left boxing glove against his left knee. “that really want you want? both of us?” and his voice softens. it’s a bit more pitchy and low, and he sneers. “on me, look at me when you reply too, girl.”

your lip gradually pulls down from his thumb playing against it. you felt so hot, the air suddenly felt thick.

a sudden lump gets caught in your throat before you mumble. “i want you both,” and your eyes meet the dark-haired boxer, simultaneously glancing at his attire— shirtless, boxing shorts on with his custom-made ‘fushiguro’ briefs wilting near the top—only showing the hem part. just a teensy detail like that was so enticing that you even spot a few parts of his exposing snatched waist. only after awhile you then abruptly snap out of your vulgar fantasm. “…please.”

“the real question is, pretty little journalist,” sukuna steps in, a hand stroking against your chin. you didn’t know where to even look. both boxers had their hands on you and the tightened squeezing between your plush thighs grew even more. “can you handle both?”

“yes.” you’d speak in a soft voice, most likely as of now you were probably speaking from between your legs—you didn’t care though, everyone’s a little delusional at some point. emphasis on a little in your case, because you had no idea what you were getting in to with these two.

toji snickers. “hm,” he mutters, eyes focusing on you for a long time before he raises his chin. “fine. let’s test your strength then,” and he briefly gazes at sukuna. “sukuna. we can take her ‘n the ring.”

and they mean it quite literally— taking you, the both of them versus you, except you weren’t relatively fighting.

not in that sense, but it was versus an opponent that was throbbing between your thighs.

the arena was empty, about a good hundred or more vacant blood-shot red seats scatter everywhere.

inside the ring, it was a mere raised platform, guided and shaped by strong stringy ropes that were yanking between poles at each side and corner. you lay on the spongy canvas of the ring’s floor before biting back a moan.

“scared yet?” sukuna hums, and he props himself right between your legs. this was risky—entirely risky, anyone could just walk in. besides, you were pretty sure they had a match in about a good forty-five minutes. with sprawled-out legs, he moved closer before dragging a thumb down your panties. his voice was a bit deeper than toji’s, they both shared the same amount of rasp.

sukuna had the charm, toji had the suaveness.

you shake your head, feeling yourself grow even hotter the more he stalls time. it feels warm, the entire air around you is humidly thick and you whine as he teasingly bites your panties. not enough to pierce his teeth into your folds, but he bites near the fabric—you watch, the string of your underwear slowly dragging with him. yet, you can’t help but glance at toji who’s just standing there—arms crossed and that same scowl that stuck against his face. “mhm,” he jibes, eyes flickering towards toji. “toji. she’s looking at you.”

“i know she fuckin’ is,” he grumbles, and your head tilts upward. you’re face first with his bulge that was right against your face. talk about space, it was right there. such a big bulge, who were you even kidding though—you found yourself gawking at his bulge at every match he had. with the skin-tight shorts he’d worn, you just knew he was nothing more than a packer. “nosy girl. y’er mouth bored or somethin’?” and he watches your hands paw at the hem of his tucked-out briefs. “need a bit of throat training, huh?”

sukuna’s playing with your panties still. by now, he’s peeling them towards the crevices of your thighs and you whine whilst you feel a thumb of his drag down your honeyed slit. sopping wet, just a three-second stare and he was suddenly esurient.

“look at me, not him,” toji lightly turns your head to face back up to him again. his bulge, his damn bulge that was right up against you. you nod, feeling your mouth dry—you wanted your throat to be filled, it wasn’t even a question. toji gruffs lowly, moving your chin side to side. “huuuh? girl, i don’t speak silence. thought i told ya how to use those words when you speak.”

“i- i wanna suck you off, ‘toj,” and you get cut off once he pulls his boxing shorts down halfway, bringing your face close to his briefs. you’re taken by surprise once he makes you rub your face against his hardened bulge—you moan, as if on instinct, your tongue lolls out just to taste him. even if it’s just the clothed fabric protecting his actual cock, it was something.

he scoffs. “y’er a nasty girl, huh,” he mumbles, peering down to see sukuna starting to lick against your cunt. your legs quaver upon impact and you slump back against the corner of the ring. “can’t wait, yeah. want me to train this empty throat? maybe it’ll make ya a better journalist, nosy ass.”

you’d almost laugh at his little side remark if it wasn’t for sukuna’s tongue lapping against your slick entrance. your lips part as you lean back, a hand going through his hair. “mphm,” he grunts, one hand squeezing the right part of your thigh. “sweetest taste i’ve had in a . . . looong while.” and he’s so sloppy, not even a few seconds pass before he’s already slurping. your panties were lazily shoved to the side and that’s when toji hauls down his briefs.

you gulp, damn.

he wasn’t just big, he was huge…

your mouth starts to salivate the more you stared at the swollen shaft. toji was a big guy . . hence meaning, toji he was a thick guy.

staggering height and a fat base to back it up, he had about two veins running down the side. his tip was a reddish pink, you could already taste him throbbing in your mouth. toji was quite well shaved a bit— though, it was a few specks of black hairs scattered everywhere. however, his happy trail was so pleasing to look. it roams all down his sculpted body, he sighs once you slowly wrap a hand around his cock.

“spit the fuck on it.”

five words and you didn’t hesitate to roll out your pink tongue once more.

you gather a good amount before watching it coat against his pink sweet tip. he groans, watching your hand stroke him a bit. he was so big, so fucking big that you could barely wrap your entire hand around his dick. toji groans, watching you make a total mess out of yourself. pretty glossy lips, pretty glossy lips that would soon be wrapped around his hefty length.

once you get it wet enough, you gently move your mouth onto him. he hisses, the warmth of your throat has his abs clenching.

“m-mhm,” you’d moan out, though your words were purely muffled. sukuna’s sucking on your clit, occasionally nipping and nibbling on it just to make you squirm even more. it was cute— the way your legs could barely hold still, so this was your weak spot. it’s what he thought to himself, lapping his tongue against your slick entrance. brief kisses coat near your folds before he maneuvers such circles against your pussy. feeling his canines nip against your folds every few seconds had you feral in the best way possible.

“y’er makin’ her squirm all over, ‘kuna,” toji lowly chuckles, such baritone in his voice that it makes you soak even more. you didn’t even know how it was possible with the way you were just profusely dripping like a faucet. not even—you put faucets to shame with how slick you were, quickly coating the lower part of sukuna’s chin with your syrupy taste. “open that mouth a ‘lil more, yeah . . . yeah,” and he tilts your head back a bit, prying your mouth open some more. he starts to slowly sink his cock in, so slow. the pace was incredibly tantalizing, your tongue runs against his slit before he pushed more inches inside. “fuckkk, girl,” he continues to grunt out, knees already starting to buckle. the way you took him in, hollow cheeks all puffed, you were already starting to drool a bit. small amounts of your saliva trickle past the corners of your lips as he goes deeper and deeper. deeper until his tip ends up mashing against your uvula and you gag.

“. . ooooh,” he hums, and just a simple noise as that was so seductive. “good…. good,” he swallows, a hand digging through your hair before maintaining a good grip against it. “now . . let’s test this pretty throat’s durability, hm.”

your little nod makes his sly smile widen, your jaw hangs and he starts to gradually piston his hips. such a mess, he was just so big that you were surprised all of it even fit.

“alllll the way down, shit,” your head starts to move, bobbling as your tongue swiftly running against his pulsating head. he gnashes his teeth together, dim eyes flickering towards your hands. you were feeling hot yourself so you made a cute attempt at reaching between your legs. doing so only greets you to a soft concise smack.

“hands to yourself, silly girl,” sukuna grumbles, and this time he grabs your wrist. he simpers, watching you try to even still rub one out but with his grip, you weren’t getting anywhere. as your mouth was occupied with such inches, you whimper once you feel sukuna spank your cunt a few times. “don’t touch my pussy.”

one turns into two, then three, then four. . .

your pretty cunt starts to become his new obsession—the way you’d squelch for him so easily, he gets hard in his boxers. so wet, he knows the layout as if he’s so used to doing this. you wouldn’t be surprised, especially with a tongue like he had. lapping left and right, he parts your legs just a bit farther before the tip of his tongue swirls all around it. he lays it flat, getting a good enough taste before giving it yet another mean spank.

you whimper, feeling your tummy cave in before toji makes you face him once more. “eyes up here, eyes on me,” and he sounds almost jealous the more you focus your attention strictly on his boxer acquaintance. you’re still stroking him, a thumb sliding down a vein that prods alongside his shaft and he groans. your throat, so warm that he starts to feel his right thigh bounce. “should be . . usin’ this throat for shit like this instead of running that mouth.” his voice pitches lower, boxer shorts pulled down and his hair was slightly ruffled. you stare up at toji and he gives you that same cunning smirk. oh, you were soaked. again, this simply felt like a fever dream. even if at the slightest chance that you were dreaming, you never wanted to wake up.

toji’s quite talkative throughout the entire thing, sukuna’s dragging you further and further onto your incoming release and your legs start to rapidly shake even more. you whine and mewl out such sweetened moans, occasionally coming back up for air as you kept his cock warm in your mouth. each time it hits the roof of your mouth, you let off a straddled noise and he finds it so cute, so filthy.

“relax y’er throat, girl,” he mutters, a firm grip on your scalp. with glossy eyes, you follow his words and you stop gagging a bit. he grunts, getting hard every time your pretty eyes make direct contact with him. “such a pretty girl when you listen.” and his tone gets a bit more sensual, more tender.

you whine, feeling sukuna insert a single finger inside of you—you swallow his digit almost immediately and you cringe at hearing your own salaciously lewd squelches.

soaking, sopping wet,

three perfect words to describe between your legs, you choke out a moan once you feel that sensation brew right up inside your stomach. steadily, it was coming closer and closer. you’re breathing through your nose—feeling a few of his pubic hairs tickle against you. you’re moaning, eyes becoming half-lidded and droopy. toji had a mere pout stretching against his face and he felt himself coming close too.

the icing on the cake was your tongue, the way you swirl and slide it against his frenulum—he groans out a low grunt that rings throughout the arena. it reverberates, it's raspy and it only makes you even more aroused. “s-shit, you close too?”

you nod, and toji jeers, finding it amusing to taunt with you as you’re about to reach your inevitable peak. “yeah? gonna make a mess on ‘kuna’s face?”

“told ya don’t call me that,” sukuna grouses, resuming to pump not one but two fingers into you now—you’re almost there. it’s a hot feeling stirring up near your lower abdomen, a pool of it. your eyes start to roll, still slobbering down toji’s cock before he starts to thrust and thrust into your mouth.

“make me.” toji stared at him—and the both of them grew quiet before laughing with each other.

idiots.

your maw opens just a bit wider, and he’s shoving himself in and out of your tight throat—the noises that follow are so lewd, he finds you so pretty like this. mascara all smeared and runny, your hand continues to wrap around his length—his sagged base, so full. you start to salivate again, imagining what his taste was like. you craved it like you crave sweets, sukuna’s tongue running against your clit only made things far more intense before you start to convulse.

“f-fuckkk, ‘m gonna cum,” toji rasps, tilting your head back a bit more. you stare at him, tongue still grazing against the pulsing slit before after a few more pumps—he shoots a nice velvety load into your mouth. he grunts lowly, nostrils flaring up, jaw tightening and all. “. . damn,” he swallows, allowing himself to slow down. you end up finishing around the same time, costing sukuna’s mouth with a honeyed amount of your slick and he hums. you whimper, legs barely able to hold themselves up before you feel toji’s dick pour the remnants of his cum flat on your tongue. “nah, don’t fuckin’ swallow yet. stick it out, lemme see that shit.”

your legs felt like they were about to fall off, sukuna’s kissing near your now swollen entrance and you slowly loll out your tongue. obeying, you didn’t exactly swallow yet and he hums. “best savor that shit,” he groans, giving his veiny cock a few subtle strokes before he smacks his angry tip against your tongue. “and where’s my thank you for the meal, baby?”

“t—thwak y—you toji,” you speak, barely coherent with his seed splattered all on your tongue. you didn’t wanna spill any, and if you did—you didn’t wanna stick around to find out his reaction.

“yeah,” he huffs. “you can swallow now. get every drop in.”

sukuna moves towards you, you’re still laid on the ring’s mat before he softly wraps a hand around your throat. “hey. don’t let this bastard have all the fun, i want a taste too,” and you're taken by surprise once he pulls you into a deep steamy kiss. you moan, feeling him quite literally take your breath away. your tongue drags against sukuna’s chin, the bitterness. a concoction mixture of your saliva and his mixes, and you whine once he snakes a hand up your blazer. you taste yourself on his tongue and it’s so dirty, hot breaths mash against each other, teeth gnashing, and only then do you feel his cunning smirk.

“no one told you to hog her,” toji grumbles, pulling you back towards him. you briefly gasp for air and they both stare at each other, then you. “tell me, baby. who’d you think win in a fight? me or this . . . thing.”

sukuna glares.

“i don’t … know,” you pant out, heaving from your current orgasm—so cute, yet you only wanted more. from kissing sukuna to having your throat entirely filled, you didn’t know which was better. “can we finish?”

“aw, is someone impatient?” sukuna titters, and you stare at his glistening body—beads of sweat race down his precious v-line, the ideal body for a boxer. you just couldn’t stop staring at his pecs, so chiseled. you even thought his pictures were edited, but seeing them up close . . you wanted him, you wanted both of them. “hm. how ‘bout this? we teach you a few ah, moves. full nelson to start, ‘s pretty easy.”

easy, sure.

with it all being easy, you’d least expect to be put into a full nelson position. a mere popular wrestling position, although you’d be performing it with no one other than sukuna.

he’d have you slump back against him, hooking both arms underneath your thighs as you’re taking such mean thrusts from him. time and time again, you’re spasming out. mouth all open, saliva running down the very corners of your lips before you moan. “s—sukuna, oh my godddd,” and you glance up at toji who’s got a cute pout, stroking himself. you lost count of the time, it’s probably been about a good thirty-three minutes by now, thirty plus minutes of various teeth shattering orgasms. your head hits back against him and each time his tip smacks against your cervix, you short circuit. “fuck, fuck, right there, hit it thereee.”

“you coachin’ me how to fuck, dumb girl?” he chortles with a groan shortly following—he was so deep, the heftiness of his base taps against you each time you bounce back against his cock. he sucks his teeth, the way you easily took him had him groaning all up against your ear. “gotta get a little more stretchy, we gotta . . hah, work on your flexibility too, huh.”

“sukuna hurry the fuck up. watching you fuck my girl ‘s boring as shit,” toji grouses, pumping his cock into his fist every few seconds—you stare and he’s so needy, you could tell. his scowl he had earlier forms into a cute pout, dark eyebrows furrowing together and he’s growing impatient.

you caught that though. ‘my’ girl.

who would have thought toji . . the womanizing boxer who’s never had time for any woman throughout his career would start batting for you?

“your girl?” sukuna snickers, resuming to hold your legs up a bit further. he reaches so deep, that your stomach starts to seize and your maw drops. hooded eyes, your lashes flutter and you felt continuous strained breaths get yanked from your lungs. “your girl yet she’s gettin’ fucked by me? the better boxer?”

toji snarls, and he kneels to kiss you. you moan, barely able to return the gesture since you were in the midst of taking sukuna. with being gifted with such sharp thrusts, you dig your nails into his thighs before running tangling your tongue alongside toji’s. his breath was warm, you whine once you feel one of his hands stroke your cheek.

“aha, look at him. already whipped before me,” sukuna snickers, feeling you sink and gape around him—he stretched you out so good already, it was so relentless. each time you bounce back against his lap, the ringing in your ears grows louder and louder. he feels his dick twitch inside you. seeing you make out with toji irks him a bit before he spanks your ass—the recoil making him even more aroused than before. sukuna hums, seeing the current pout on toji’s face before nodding, “aw. toji wants a turn too, yeah? don’t ya . . big guy?” and he intakes a breath, your pussy constricting around his length as sukuna pulls you further to slam back and forth against him. you’re moving against him now as his dick jackhammers right into your gummy was. your mouth idly dangles with your tongue stil shamelessly lolled out. a raw moan rips from the back of your throat at the pure feeling of utter bliss.

so thick, so girthy—you gasp once you feel his fingers tend towards your neglected tits. toji shortly follows, a hand going between your thighs. your cunt was all stuffed of sukuna, feeding your swollen pussy was so many inches. “hngh, f-fuck, fuckkk,” you’d whine between wet, saturated kisses. toji purposely feels against your folds, all stuffed and sopping wet. he rubs a thumb against your slick entrance as your legs were just about to give out. “toji, m-more. need you to touch me more.”

“you don’t need shit, little girl,” he corrects you, squeezing your lips together before presses a kiss against it. you moan, your ass stinging every few seconds from the stings of sukuna’s palm making direct contact against your ass cheek. spank after spank, oh how he adores the jiggle. he could watch it all day, even in slow motion if he could. “such a cute thing though, had the nerve to say you thought our training room was the fuckin’ ladies' room.”

you cringe once he repeats that. the same ringing going through your ears once more. your ears perk, hearing sukuna’s raspy grunts against the shells of your lobes before you start to stammer, “toji, touch me.”

“i’ll touch this messy body when i wanna,” he gruffs, leaning to nip kisses near your neck. sukuna’s still holding you up—you’re like a rag doll, eyes goggling from the stretch before you start to feel it. not your orgasm, but something entirely different. it was a new type of pressure, sweet whiny moans emit out of you before you feel sukuna’s rude tip thrash against your g-spot again, and again, and again..

toji’s thumb softly strokes underneath your neck as he pulls you into a short kiss. you whimper, pulling away before spreading your legs a bit further.

“i— something’s coming, i f-feel tingly.”

sukuna roughly laughs against your ear, seemingly getting what you were implying. “yeah, gonna make another mess on us, princess? oh. i mean on me, heh?”

you shudder, your pussy feeling entirely stuffed and your eyes merely roll way back. he fit nice and snug, you bare around him before a whine drags out your throat. so deep, so so deep, you’re spasming—each relentless piston of his hips makes you whine louder. a feeling that was purely euphoric welts right against you, and you’re laid all back against sukuna’s bare chest, riding him in reverse. “c-choke me, ‘kuna, choke me, please.”

“want me to put you in a headlock, yeah,” he whispers to you in a rough low voice. you moan, feeling him lick against your earlobe before toji strokes your cheek. you could tell he wanted a turn too, the pout on his lips stretching even further. you’re nodding against him before your cunt gapes more. “sure. i’ll let you in on what my opponents feel, pretty girl.”

you moan, his voice was so low up against your ear, you’re about to cum. or were you, you swallow thickly despite having a sudden dry throat— voice all raspy and strained from moaning for such a duration that your head’s woozy. it feels too good, your thighs ache and quaver before you feel a beefy arm wrap around your neck. “upsie daisy, thereee we go,” and he scoots you on his lap just a bit farther. he’s buried to the hilt. you moan, toji pulling you into the nth kiss of the night, lips moving in pure tandem. just when you’re about to finish, you feel him rub against your stuffed cunt once more. yet that’s only when you decide to move your hands towards the boxers . . . nipples.

“t-the fuck,” he grunts in a hoarse tone, his voice was suddenly a bit shaky. it was cute—you couldn’t lie to yourself, you found yourself staring at toji’s chest way more often than you should. practically always shirtless, his pecs were huge. such pink swollen nipples, you slide a thumb against it and he shivers from your touch. “fuckin’ weirdo. ‘m sensitive there, s-shit.”

he doesn’t tell you to stop—instead, he grips your hair not so tightly but firmly. you look up at him, speaking in a tiny yet sheepish tone. “can— can i?”

“can ya what?” he grits, watching as sukuna continues to feed your cunt of his cock — you were just about to burst, you felt it and your toes clench and curl all up. so cute.

with a thumb still sliding against his pecs tenderly, you murmur. dilated pupils flicker towards his chest, then back up at him. “. . can,” you huff out in short breaths, tummy seizing, breathing hot and heavy. “can i suck on them?”

“no you can’t fuckin’ suck on them. what kinda question is tha—”

“toji, don’t be fuckin’ mean. you claim she’s your girl so let her suck your tits, big guy.” sukuna chimes in, releasing his soft grip against your neck. you gasp, leaning way back against him now. he was so warm pent up against you—you whimper out, sukuna leans against your ear and he starts to talk you through your incoming orgasm. “right? wanna make toji a little whiny bitch?”

“shut the fuck up,” he rasps, and his pecs literally stare at you—so beefy, you could have sworn they twitched. he groans, watching you give him such eyes before he inches closer towards you, bending down. “…….fine. whatever.”

still grinding against sukuna’s lap, you hold toji’s pecs before latching your tongue against it. his face scrunches up and it’s so cute, for whatever reason, the way your tongue curls against his perky nipples feels … good. awkwardly, he pulls your head closer towards his chest, eyeing closely as you briefly start to suck. as usual, you were so sloppy too—moaning up against his sensitive skin, rolling your tongue all against his nipple.

“nasty little g—girl,” he chokes out.

you glance up at him, parting your lips away before he makes you go back to tending to his tense nipples. “i didn’t tell you to stop. use y’er fuckin’ tongue some more. and stare at me while you do that . . . weird shit.”

toji’s voice significantly pitches and you’re so into it that you don’t even realize that before you know it, you end up squirting. everything comes at once, you’re pulsing with sukuna’s cock still twitching vigorously inside you and you whimper, mouth still sucking onto toji’s tits nipples. low laughter could be heard from behind you, and it’s all so much. your pussy was equivalent to a waterpark, gushing out all into sukuna’s lap. “fuckkk, princess,” he chortles, slowing down your hips and he ends up finishing a few seconds after you.

when he came inside, it came out quite a lot too. a hefty amount, it came out in ropes to where he paints the entirety of your womb. so warm from the inside, your tummy briefly caves in and your legs felt like mush.

“heh, did you just squirt?” sukuna points out, cock still twitching inside but he just lies still. you’re stretched out literally on the mat, seeing pure stars— the lights of the arena merely blinding you before you lie back against him. “a squirter and you’re tapping out already? aw boo. ‘n here i thought you could handle a few more rounds in the ring, princess.”

“i— i can,” you protest, parting your lips away from toji’s sheeny pecs. your lips were spit-glossed, he stared at you before squatting down to stare at the mess right between your legs. so messy, sukuna lifts you off of him and it just pours right down between your thighs. “i can go for more.”

toji hums, taking a quick three-second glance at his watch. “five fuckin’ minutes, ‘s all you’ll get with . . me,” and it’s cute because a mere pink forms on his face.

he’s still embarrassed from you sucking on his nipples that he tries to act all tough—but that only makes his tone quaver even more. “match’s gonna start soon. sukuna, let’s take her both.”

he snickers, pulling your shirt that was tucked underneath your blazer all the way up.

“both?” and sukuna lifts you to sit on top of toji, straddling him. you were being preparing to be overly stuffed with not one but two cocks. you fall face forward into toji’s broad chest, the coldness of his chain that wraps around his neck brushes against your skin before he helps you align yourself.

you moan, feeling sukuna get behind too—you gulp, toji’s fondling your breasts that almost poke out through your unbuttoned shirt whilst sukuna was behind. you’d be taking them both— one in each hole. “can you handle us both at the same time, pretty girl? toji’s known for his record of lasting a good ah . . . two solid rounds.”

toji glares, feeling himself start to open you up again. with his plump crownhead of his cock, he splits you open, and he is a tad thicker than sukuna—you moan, wrapping flimsy arms around him before sukuna enters from behind with toji focusing on the front. “shut up. you say that ‘n act like i won’t k.o. you right now.”

“oh yeah?” sukuna cavils, and you gasp, landing on the cold canvas with an 'oof' once the boxer lightly places you down. you pout—glancing up at the two of them who were having a face off at a time like this. sukuna already pulled out and they stared each other down before toji slyly smiles. “is that a fact?” and for a brief moment, he leers down at toji’s sheeny lips— the dark-haired boxer slides his tongue against his scar before humming.

“don’t play, you know it is,” he replies, giving you one ogle before turning back towards his rival. “y’know, ‘kuna. you sure talk a lot of shit but you couldn’t even pin me down if you tried.”

sukuna rasps lowly, inching closer before they were inches apart—you thought they were gonna kiss at this rate. oh, something like this would be such a good inspiration for the headlines.

“if you wanted my attention, should have said so,” sukuna sneers, rubbing his hand that was carefully wrapped up in a white bandage against his slim torso. “besides, i think we all know who can last more rounds.”

“did you two just forget about me—?” you furrow your eyebrows, literally still soaked and laid against the corner of the ring. they shoot you a glance before turning back towards each other.

toji scoffs back at sukuna, ignoring you. “prove it then. pin me the fuck down, hot shot.”

“bend the fuck over then, big guy. we’ll show the pretty journalist who’s gonna win this night’s match. round fuckin’ one.”

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2btheanswertothequestion · 1 year

Text

(part 2 of November Paramedic; part 1 is here.)

Steve's honey-sweet eyes, gleaming with confidence, ask 'why don't you take a bite?'

His pink mouth, deliciously curved, wonders 'don't you want a taste?'

His dark chest hair, leading a mouthwatering path down his pants, says 'you know you want to'.

And Eddie does. He really does. He would, if Steve was actually here. Alas, all Eddie has is the calendar photo currently staring at him from where it's propped on Eddie's dresser, and he's not biting into it. It's the only one he's got, you see; he won't be ruining it with bite marks and drool due to his intrusive thoughts.

If he had a copy machine close at hand, though? If he could make as many pictures as he'd possibly want? Oho, watch out, Slobbertown!

It's been one week since Steve the sexy paramedic revealed himself to be a real person and not just a dude in a softcore porn calendar. One week since he Florence Nightingale'd Eddie before vanishing in a flurry of bloody gauze and blinking blue lights, leaving both Eddie and Gareth breathless.

(Though in Gareth's case, it was due to laughing so hard he choked on himself.)

The calendar doesn't do it for him anymore. Don't misunderstand – he still uses it when beating the meat. In fact, it has exclusively become his primary masturbatory aid, and it has served him especially well the past few days. The moment those 48 hours were over and Gareth left, Eddie chucked off his sweatpants and went to, well, Slobbertown. But it's not the same anymore. How could it be, when he knows the real Steve's hair smells like a meadow and his aftershave like lemon and spice? When he's felt the pressure of Steve's fingertips on his jaw? When he's seen the faint scar running down Steve's chin from his mouth? When he can still hear Steve's voice use his name, give him orders, call him 'sir'?

It's impossible. Fuck, just whenever Eddie closes his eyes Steve's face appears, as vividly as if it happened yesterday. Of course, that might have something to do with Eddie already having made himself oh so familiar with Steve's face, and chest, and hands, and… everything else, for the past two years. Jesus damn it, if he knew this was where he'd end up he never would've bought the calendar in the first place.

Groaning, he throws himself back on his bed; then he shouts as his head thumps into the wall. Typical. He rubs at the spot to soothe it. No bump, though it hurts like a bitch. Pain (and suspicion he just aggravated the previous head injury) aside, he's comfortable, thus he sprawls out and stares at the ceiling as planned.

He's been distracted. He knows that because literally everyone has been on his case about it. Gareth gives him smug smiles that have turned alarmingly calculated as the week has passed. Jeff and Marv, having been filled in by Gareth, are rather more amused in a benign way. His boss almost sent him home to recuperate after catching him staring into space for the third time. Uncle Wayne noticed something was off through the phone. And Max has been giving him weird looks.

Ah, little Max. The only person in the complex who doesn't steer clear of him. She doesn't actually know what went down – not completely. She knows he got injured, because she caught him and Gareth as they stumbled home while she was exiting her apartment to toss the trash. Her sharp eyes zeroed in on the plaster, and on Eddie's arm that was slung over Gareth's shoulders for support (at Gareth's insistence).

"You got in a fight?" she asked.

With a grin he'd exclaimed, "Battle? You know me better than that! Nay, I did my utmost to escape the violence... but the ruffian got to me regardless."

"Huh. You okay?"

Gareth had rolled his eyes. "He's fine. I mean, listen to him."

"Don't worry about me, Red." Eddie tapped his own head. "This ol' noggin is harder than it looks."

A corner of her mouth twisted up, though if it was in amusement he couldn't tell in the dim hallway. They ought to team up against the super; maybe their combined whining will have him finally fix that broken light bulb.

"Make sure you don't take aspirin or ibuprofen," she said. "It can-"

"Yeah, I know. Paramedic already told me."

"Good. Is our lesson still on?"

"Certainly, m'dear."

And then he'd tipped an imaginary hat, she snorted, and Gareth hauled his ass to bed.

He didn't see Max again until Sunday afternoon, when she came by for their aforementioned weekly guitar lesson. Parking themselves on each end of the couch, his acoustic in her lap, he'd made her play the 'homework' from the previous Sunday. It sounded pretty good. She honestly won't need his help soon – probably doesn't need it now. She understands basic theory and is diligent about practicing. He'd be fine with awarding her temporary custody of the guitar for a while. She insists on coming over, however, claiming she has to be perfect by the time of the next open mic down at Connie's Corner Coffee.

The reason she has to be perfect? Well. Eddie is pretty sure it's to impress her boy. She hasn't confirmed that it's for her boy, or even that she has one, but it totally is and she totally does. He knows this because 1. she becomes flustered and grumpy (grustered? Flumpy?) every time he brings it up, and 2. if she was learning to play for herself he'd be subjected to a lot more Pink Floyd and a lot less Curtis Mayfield.

It's cute, to be honest. Picking up an instrument for a boy you like? That's romantic as fuck. If he hadn't been the Lord of All Losers he would've serenaded tons of boys when he was younger. Hell, he'd do it now, if only there were anyone willing to listen. But he hasn't had as much as a date in ages, and none of his previous attempts at relationships ever reached the 'romantic gestures' stage.

Maybe he should ask Max to set him up with someone. Why not? She probably meets dozens of people every day, at the campus, at the skatepark, wherever else she hangs. If there's anyone who could sort out his disastrous love life, it's Max Mayfield. She's so put together, and she's not even 20 yet. She's got her own place (in a supremely shitty building, but still a place), she's got a man (reluctant as she is to admit it), and she is halfway through her math degree. A fucking math degree, for Christ's sake! Math majors are built for solving problems!

Maybe she could even calculate how many times he'd need to injure himself before he'd meet the one paramedic he wanted to kiss… him better.

It was around that point of his daydreaming that Max shot a hair tie at his forehead and demanded he stop zoning out and correct her hand placement.

"Are you sure you're okay?" she asked, her eyebrows furrowing deeper than usual. "Have you been resting?"

"Yes. For the prescribed 48 hours, and then some. I'm fine."

She'd frowned, scrutinizing him with those pale blue eyes. He squared his shoulders and met her gaze like a man. Easier said than done, to be truthful. He likes Max – she's fun, easily the most kickass neighbor he's ever had – but she can be intense. And when she gets her stare on? She's downright creepy.

"I'd prefer to cancel over you fucking up your head more," she at last said, posture stiff and chin jutting. 'Don't lie to me,' is what she meant.

Eddie sighed. "Red… I'm fine. Seriously."

And he was. Physically speaking, at least. Mentally, he'd always been a little off. Part of the patented Munson charm, really.

She must've realized that, because she relaxed, her expression going from 'active bitch face' and back to 'resting'.

"All right. Sorry for being overbearing. It's just." She shrugged a shoulder, gripping the neck of the guitar as it started sliding off her crossed legs. "One of my closest friends is a medical professional. Another one is studying biology. They've been discussing human anatomy and… I guess they've gotten into my head."

Damn his friends for caring. How was he supposed to sell this image of a dark, dangerous, rocker dude if he was constantly misty-eyed from how sweet his buds were to him? He leaned forward to pat her knee.

"I appreciate the concern, unnecessary as it is. But!" He drew himself back and pointed in the air. "We're not postponing! Open mic is less than a month away – you only have so many days left before you'll be on that stage, in front of aaaaall those people… and your beau."

He's certain that if she hadn't still been sorta concerned about his health, she'd have smacked him.

That was Sunday afternoon. Now is Wednesday evening. He is still hung up on Thursday. He doesn't even know why. Yes, he was face-to-face with the hottest guy ever. Sure, that same guy has been the star of his most critically acclaimed fantasies. Indeed, he hasn't gotten laid in eons. Of course, he's pent-up with sexual frustration and yearning for another man's touch.

But still. He's not an animal or a sex-crazed teenager. He's smart enough to know that nothing good will come of this. It's not like he'll ever see Steve again. That'd be so unrealistic.

A knock on his front door reaches his ears. Eddie makes no effort to get up and answer it. He's not expecting anyone – whoever it is will have to return another day.

The knocking turns into a pounding, followed by yelling.

"Eddie! Let me in, asshole, I know you're there!"

Ugh. What does he want? Hasn't he heard of texting?

Eddie drags himself off the bed and toward the door. Yanking it open, he's met by Gareth's self-satisfied visage.

"Good evening," he says, heedless of Eddie’s glare. "I come hither with your solution."

"My solution?" Eddie mutters as he stalks to his couch to crumple into another heap.

Gareth follows him inside. "I have a plan to get your man!"

"What? Who? What?"

"Steve. November-paramedic," Gareth says, like it's obvious, which, what the actual fuck?

"He's not my man?"

"But he could be."

"Gareth, what the fuck-"

He moves to sit up, but Gareth's palm hits him square in the diaphragm and pushes him back down.

"No, listen: you are a terrible patient."

"I'm not-"

"Remember back in high school, when that asshole rear-ended us in the intersection at Hickory and 5th?"

Eddie grimaces. How could he forget? They'd stopped at a red light when a drunken motherfucker plowed into them, sending them careening into the T-junction. One car managed to break before hitting them; another veered only to crash into a fourth car. The result was, for them, whiplash injuries and, for the people who collided, bruises, sprains, and a dislocated joint. It had been the scariest moment of Eddie's life, and the neck pain had been excruciating. That wasted piece of shit was lucky no one died.

He says, "Yeah?"

"You were so snarky with that poor EMT."

"Okay, first off, I was a snot-nosed brat back then-"

"Dude, you were nineteen."

"-and she was rude to me first."

"She was following protocol!" Gareth shakes his head. "The point is that you never follow orders or instructions, not even when a doctor tells you to. But November-Steve? I've never seen you be so pliable."

"I-"

"And after, when I had to babysit you for two fucking days? I expected it to be difficult. But you were so busy sighing and yearning-" he says, ignoring Eddie's indignant sputtering, "-and replaying him tenderly caressing your face with his big, manly hands and holding your gaze with those big, manly eyes-"

"Do you want to fuck him?"

"-that you forgot to complain or be a contrarian about everything." Gareth smiles, sweet as cavities. "It was great. I'd like to recapture that. And if November-Steve is the one to bring it out of you, well!"

Eddie glowers at him. No, really! With the metaphorical thunder clouds swirling over his head and everything! His world has been shook. It is tilted off its axis, and it's his best friend's duty to mock him relentlessly for it. But this? Trying to encourage him? Give him hope? That's going too far.

Gareth notices. Of course he does; curse the heart on Eddie's sleeve. The sickly-sugary smugness evaporates off him, and he takes a seat on the dingy couch seat.

"Eddie," he says with a softness reserved for a select few individuals. "Seriously. You've been all moon-eyed for a week. You've been thinking about him. Really thinking."

Eddie balloons his cheeks and huffs out the air. "Well. If you spend two years jerking it to a guy-"

"Gross."

"-and then he suddenly appears before you, in the flesh? I've been fantasizing about it. He's a fantasy. And when it actually happens, that's…"

He trails off. Gareth knocks their shoulders together.

"He seemed nice."

Eddie scoffs. "I spoke to him for fifteen minutes. Tops."

"Fifteen nice minutes. You haven't dated in ages. Maybe this is a sign?"

Chuckling, Eddie slumps his head onto Gareth's shoulder. They're the wrong heights for it, so it's awkward and strenuous on the neck. He remains.

"You're just looking for another opportunity to embarrass me," he says.

"Embarrass you and improve your life. Like only true friends strive to do."

Eddie hums. "So what's your fucking plan?"

Gareth shifts, turning toward Eddie, but doesn't say anything yet. Glancing up, Eddie is met by a zoomed-in, upside-down view of Gareth's pointy grin, his canines gleaming.

"The university!"

------------------------------

Taglist: @rougenancy, @raisedbylibrarians, @yourebuckingkiddingme, @swimmingbirdrunningrock, @emma77645, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @eddielives1986, @stevesbipanic, @the-redthread, @fandemonium-takes-its-toll, @henderdads, @gay-little-bitch, @lordofthepointygerbils, @lenore1232, @imzadidragonfly, @zerokrox-blog, @eddiemunsonswife, @cherrycolas-things, @ediewentmissing, @princess-eddie, @atombombbibunny, @ajamlessbaby, @dogswithforks, @grimmfitzz, @cutiecusp, @cuips-not-cute, @manicallydepressedrobot, @messrs-weasley, @madaboutmunson, @mightbeasleep, @suikatto, @brassreign, @snapshotmaestro, @bea-sayan, @courtjestermunson, @csinnamon-fox, @steveisabicon, @spectrum-spectre, @spinmewriteround , @just-super-fucking-gay, @escapingthereality, @oneweirdcryptid

No longer adding to the tag list, due to numbers and (hopefully temporary) technical difficulties. Please save or memorize the tag #steddie fic: november paramedic instead; all the parts will be there (unless something goes terribly wrong).

Thank you for reading! 🖤 ☺

Part 3

#no steve this time (he's there in sexy spirit) but you get more gareth AND some max #steddie #steddie fanfic #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson #gareth stranger things #max mayfield #my writing #steddie fic: november paramedic

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cup1dt3a · 1 year

Note

Hi, hope this is ok to request, if not feel free to ignore it. Can I request a continuation of the story you recently wrote about reader and their sister watching welcome home and them talking with Wally?. I would love to see Wally and Reader starting to bond and if you’re comfortable writing it, the reader falling in love with Wally too. Thanks so much.

Your wish is my command! Also you’re too kind and your request is so wholesome I like it. Way more fluffy than my original idea but I like it better since my last post was kind of dark! Anyways hope you all enjoy!

“ Wally! Look it’s us! There’s me, big ___, and you!” Your sister happily exclaimed to the puppet wanting to show off their stick figure drawing.

“ Oh that’s very nice little one have you shown ___ yet?” He asked through the screen with a small tilt to his head as they shook theirs.

“ No it’s a surprise so don’t tell them!” They said putting a finger to their lips as a way to say it’s a secret.

It’s been a month since your “conversation” with Wally and true to his word he watched over her like a hawk. Taking care of them with their limited reach throughout the screen. You were just happy he kept his word but you still had an odd feeling about him. Throughout the passing month as you supervised their interactions each one was wholesome and sweeter than the last. Almost too cute in your opinion. Your sister tried to hug the Tv once and accidentally brought it down with her thinking it would be a good idea to pick it up. After having the biggest scare of both your lives her and Wally were ok. Thankfully the Tv didn’t shatter and the weight didn’t crush her. But she had sobbed her eyes out from the scare of the Tv coming down onto her.

Both you and Wally comforted her after the scare and for once she had calmed down very quickly. Completely fine just a little scratch on her cheek. She called it her battle scar it made her happy so whatever. But you were just amazed at how fast she calmed down. Still flabbergasted as you made your way back from work. You set out enough food to last her a few hours and she knew to get food she wanted from the pantry or fridge so she would be ok. But with Wally’s help you had a free babysitter so it was a win win.

You turned the key to your apartment yawning as you made your entrance. Right as your younger sibling excitedly hugged you in the darkness of your home startling you for a second.

“ Geez, you almost scared me!” You chuckled hugging them back before putting your bag down.

“ I made you something!” They said before could ask turning on a light switch to show the colorful stick figures.

They explained it was all of you. Each drawn out as stick figures she was at the side of you holding your left hand while a very tall Wally held your right.

“ Hmm…very lovely buuut.” You said as they looked up at you in confusion before snickering adding “ I think Wally would be a lot shorter.”

You saw the puppet huff out in the corner of your eye making you giggle. Your sister also huffed at you upset for making Wally upset. The puppet blushed upon seeing your gorgeous glow as you giggled out ever so graciously. If only you knew what you did to him with that beautiful smile.

You plopped down onto your comfy bed sighing in delight to finally be off your feet. You had just put your sister to bed and they compliantly agreed to go to bed right away if they got pancakes. Pancakes also had been sounding super good to you so why not? Besides you were too tired to argue with anything at the moment. You had worked 2 extra hours and went through three rush hours. They were all so much fun. Your feet were aching and your eyes formed bags getting heavier as you kept your irises open.

As you turned over to face your Tv about to put a horror movie or something on Wally all the sudden appeared with his big smiling face.

“ Tiring day huh my sweet dreamer?” He said with a tilt to his head as you nodded.

“ Poor thing always working so hard. You’re wilting more than a flower in the winter.” He cooed at you as you slowly dazed off.

“ Good night my sweet.” He told you.

“ Night love you.” You replied only half awake to have any conception of what you said as you snuggled your pillow closer to you

He froze. He couldn’t believe it. You just said that. You said you love him. Oh how the words just replayed in his head as if they were his favorite lyrics of a song. Repeatedly echoing through this head as he watched you ever so peacefully sleep going off into your own fantasies. He wondered if you ever fantasized about him. What would you think or see him as in your dreams. Oh he hoped they were as good as his. He yearned everyday for the feeling of your flesh on top of his. Oh how would you smell? How would you feel? What would you do if you were given the opportunity to have him in person? Oh he hoped you’d embrace him as tight as he hoped to. You’re such a delightful little sweet of his. His own forbidden fruit that was all his to savior and enjoy.

As you dreamed away in your fantasy land the puppet had longingly gazed at you the whole night admiring every bit of you he could take in. Even with his limited access to you you never failed to grace him with your generous looks. Oh great gods how you reduced him into nothing other than a mushy mess of putty for you. Just for you. After all everything he did was for you.

You woke up earlier than usual but still felt so well rested. Stretching out you noticed the the screen was blank for once. It was odd usually Wally was there to greet you. You oddly wanted him to greet you. Your morning just felt off if he wasn’t there to greet you with his big dark eyes and wide smile on your Tv screen. You got up to go check if he was busy with your little sister. You checked their room just to be sure they were awake and to your surprise they were sleeping. You looked at the time seeing it was only 6 in the morning. No wonder they’re still knocked out. You swiped your hair back pushing your bangs and loose strands of hair to go and find out where Wally was. You yawned again as you went to the living room still not seeing your little friend.

“ Wally?” You called out hearing no reply.

“ Wally you there?” You asked out again.

You didn’t know why but you felt your heart stop knowing he wasn’t here. You couldn’t help but no notice ho empty you were starting to feel without him as you continued on with your day. You made pancakes at 8:15am he still wasn’t there. You finished getting ready for your shift at 9 o’clock. You took your sister to work with you not sure if he’d even come back. It was a rainy day out so you made sure they brought their raincoat and umbrella. Your boss was fine with you bringing her even without asking before hand. He had expressed this multiple times, so you hadn’t bothered to ask this time.

It was again a very busy day at work. Your sister this time had to play with herself since Charley wasn’t there today due to him having to go on some diet because of stomach inflammation. Along with them not having any food suitable for his diet here. And yes, your sister had asked your boss all about that while you insisted she didn’t and left them alone. He once again said he didn’t mind but you felt so bad! As you dragged her to an area where she wouldn’t bother any customers you finally got back to your shift, after getting her some food. Sure you wasted your own lunch break but she needed to eat either way. She was still a growing girl she needed protein even as much as she protested against broccoli she ate it with a glare at you.

As you went back to your shift you couldn’t help but have your mind wonder to where Wally possibly could have went. You sighed out pulling back a strand of hair as you wiped down the messy table. Some people seriously can’t even try and have some decency as to not make a huge mess. You wondered if they poured their food all over the table at this point.

You chuckled at a thought lingering where you accidentally poured soup into your lap. Wally had made it a joke where-

“ Hey! Hello anyone home?” Your coworker clapped their hands in front of you getting your attention.

“ What is it?” You asked as they crossed their arms. “ Wha- What’s been up with you? Smiling and gazing off into the distance…Do you like some one?” They asked.

“ No!” You said “ Lies! Plus you suck at lying.” They exclaimed teasing you.

This is how your day continued being constantly teased by your co-worker and checking up on your little sister. Before you knew it was the end of your shift. Just as you were about to leave your boss pulled you to the side. First, thanking you for your hard work then requesting you to work another shift for tomorrow since they’re low on staff. You tiredly agreed wishing him a goodnight as you went to get your sister. Helping her zip up her raincoat and sort her stuff back together you both walked back home. Glancing at any Tv screen to see if Wally was there. Sadly none of them displayed the yellow puppet all just a blank screen or some show. But soon enough you didn’t have anytime to see if he was on them because the rain had started to get heavier. You both rushed back hand in hand trying to watch your step as the rain drops flooded the streets.

Panting as you made your way up the stairs you finally reached your apartment door. Just as you got out your key the door had ever so slowly opened nothing but darkness was seen in the room through the creek. Someone must have broken in while you were gone. Your heart raced on what to do. You just wanted to lay down and go to sleep but no the universe just loves to fuck you over everyday. You looked down at your sister while she looked up at you with nothing but confusion and worry. You softly smiled at her and dropped her over at your neighbors apartment across from yours. Even asking them if they heard anyone going into your apartment which they replied no.

Now this is even more concerning. Did they take anything? Oh no what if they took all the money you’ve been saving up? What if they stole every ounce of clothing, money, or food you had. Sure it wasn’t that much but still!! Before leaving your neighbors house you unzipped your bag grabbing out your trusty old bat you used to use. Slowly opening the door trying to make it not creak as lid you went inside. You held your breath as your heart raced protesting. Walking through the empty darkness slowly creeping towards where you leave any money in case they had left or you just forgot to lock the door. Just as you opened the drawer the lights suddenly flickered on. Blinding you as you squinted only to feel long thin arms wrapping around you while a head rested onto your shoulder.

“ Hello my sweet-“ the familiar voice said as you punched the poor soul behind you cutting them off. Wait a minute my sweet? That what…oh shit.

“ Wally? Is that you?” you stuttered turning around as the tall figures head lied low cupping his now bleeding nose.

“ In the flesh. Literally I have flesh now.” He said looking up as he dusted his rainbow trousers off ignoring his bleeding nose now.

“ How-“ you questioned as he answered quickly ” It’s a tricky process buut I managed.”

He then gazed into your eyes with his own. It was odd but he really did resemble his puppet form in this now human one. His hair still in his signature swirl with his large black eyes peering down onto yours with admiration.

“ Tired hmm?” He asked as you nodded before he scooped you up.

This was going to be getting some used to. Now with his lanky tall figure being able to scoop you up and embrace you any moment. You had made fun of him being short once any now this is what you get great. Your tired mind wasn’t comprehending many many questions that should have been asked but right now you didn’t really care.

Tysm for reading hope your day is going well or gets better

Sincerely - Cup1sT3a💌

#wally darling #welcome home wally #welcome home x reader #welcome home #yandere wally darling #gender neutral reader #gender neutral mc #yandere wally darling x reader #yandere welcome home

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hopepetal · 10 months

Text

Hi!

So @applestruda and I have been working on a little thing for the boatem knights au. I hope you enjoy this next arc of the story as much as we do.

You can find the masterlist of the previous bkau fic here, and I will be posting this on ao3 as well.

Reblogs and comments are much appreciated :)

Impulse was painfully, bitterly, human. Just a normal guy, with normal hair and normal eyes and friends that were anything but. Even Mumbo, who he'd thought to be his one human companion, turned out to be something different. Something special.

When it had finally been revealed to the knights that Mumbo was, in fact, a shapeshifter, no one was really surprised. With the amount of non-humans in the group, and magically gifted ones besides, it was only a matter of time before Mumbo revealed that he was obviously, not human.

While they were all joking around and laughing over Mumbo's newly revealed ability, Scar had turned to Impulse with that friendly smile of his and asked, “So, when are you gonna reveal your super secret backstory to us, Impulse?”

Impulse had laughed off the pang of bitterness and guilt combined (and how stupid was that, feeling guilty over the fact that he didn't have a special ability or secret backstory to reveal?) and shook his head. “Nah,” he had responded with a shrug, “I'm just a guy. Just Impulse.”

Just a guy. Just Impulse.

Simple words that had become a mantra over the past few days, lingering in the back of Impulse's mind. A whispered chant, just audible enough to catch his attention but hardly loud enough to deserve a shushing. They were an apt description of what he was– of who he was, of course, and Impulse knew that. He had known that all his life, and, up until this point, had convinced himself that he was fine with that.

(He never had been ‘fine’ with it in the first place. It’s why he trained from dawn till dusk for years, honing his strength and skills. He couldn’t fly, couldn’t breathe underwater, couldn’t withstand a fiery blaze, and most certainly couldn’t teleport. But he was smart, and he was strong, and that was enough. Wasn’t it?)

Mumbo was good with redstone, too. He was a genius, even. What with his constant inventions and how he thought outside of the traditional redstone conventions, and the way he brushed off any compliments with a wave and a soft, “It’s quite simple, really.”

Impulse’s mother had told him that everyone was special. That they were all made up of stardust and the love of the universe. It was an old wive’s tale, but it had been comforting.

Now, surrounded by shapeshifters and avians and magical beings, Impulse was wondering if the universe forgot to give him a little stardust.

The sun had just begun to rise, bathing the world in its golden light, as Impulse got dressed and headed out to the makeshift training area to work on his swordplay. It wasn’t long before he was hacking away at one of the many training dummies the knights had made together in an effort to “work on their arts and crafts skills”, going through the familiar motions of a swordfight.

Just a guy. Just Impulse.

He’d always wondered what it was like to fly. To dive deep into the ocean, without fear of drowning. To never feel the terrible pain of burns, or to get to where you wanted to be instantly.

Just a guy. Just Impulse.

It wasn’t like being a human was bad. Not at all! Being human was great! He didn’t have to worry about getting hurt by the rain, or his wings being targeted in battle, or, void forbid, being hunted for sport. He could do so much as a human!

But it wasn’t enough. Not anymore.

Just a guy.

Sweat dripped down the back of his neck as he continued fighting, his breaths coming in short pants. In his mind’s eye, the training dummy was an enemy, and it was his job to defeat it. Slicing and stabbing and slashing, Impulse went back and forth in a dance all his own, in a battle that held no weight on the future.

Just–

“Impulse?”

Pulled from his reverie, Impulse stumbled to a rather clumsy halt, his sword arm falling to his side as he looked over for who called his name. Standing at the edge of the arena was Pearl, leaning against the little wooden fence that surrounded it. She wore a bright smile as always, but something akin to concern shone in her eyes, barely hidden.

“Huh?” Impulse got out, before blinking and shaking his head. “Sorry, Pearl, I uh– I didn’t see you there. Were you calling me?” His muscles were aching, and he was absolutely drenched in sweat. Just how long had he been training for?

Pearl nodded. “Yeah, mate. You were fighting that dummy with the intention to kill, huh?” she joked, gesturing to the very much falling apart training dummy. She continued, “You were training for a while. Lost in your own world, were ya?”

Impulse glanced up at the sky, internally wincing at how high the sun had climbed without him noticing. “Yeahhh…” He laughed, scratching the back of his neck. “Kinda got caught up in my own thoughts, y’know.” He looked over at the training dummy. “Uh… sorry, mister dummy,” he apologized awkwardly, which Pearl found hilarious judging by her soft laughter.

“You should come get some breakfast and wash up,” Pearl advised, “I’m heading to the village in a bit to pick up some stuff– do you wanna come with?”

Impulse shrugged, before walking over to where Pearl was and hopping the fence. “Sounds like fun, and I don’t have anything else planned.”

Pearl grinned, and gave Impulse a fistbump. “Great! I’ll go get the horses ready, if you wanna go eat and change real quick?”

“Will do!” Impulse gave her an over the top salute. “Thanks, Pearl!”

He began to head back to his tent at a slow jog, and decided that maybe it was best if he ignored that soft voice in his head. His friends were incredibly perceptive, and the last thing that he wanted was for them to get all worried about him and start asking questions.

Would they judge you? Call you jealous?

Maybe. And maybe Impulse was jealous, at least a little. Did that make him a bad person? For wishing he could be more than what he was? For hoping that he had some chance at standing on the same level as his friends?

Impulse tried to shake those thoughts out of his head as he quickly scarfed down some breakfast and changed out of his sweat-soaked training clothes. Pearl had just finished with getting the horses ready by the time Impulse returned, and greeted him with a smile. “Ready to go?”

Impulse returned her grin as he mounted his horse. “You know it. Road trip time!”

The trip to the village was a short but pleasant ride through the forest, on a well-worn path the knights had traveled many times. Impulse and Pearl made idle conversation as they rode, Pearl mentioning that she wanted to stop by a couple of shops and the library. They arrived at the village after about thirty minutes and dismounted, tying their horses reins to the hitching post before grabbing their bags and walking into the village.

Impulse had been here before, of course, but visits had been rare recently with… well, everything that had happened. It was nice to get back out and just walk through the village, without any life-threatening or world-ending danger looming over their heads. And as a bonus, he got to hang out with Pearl, which he always enjoyed.

They went through the shops one by one, Pearl picking up supplies and things they had run out of. Eventually, they were finished, and Pearl pulled Impulse rather excitedly toward the library. He didn’t blame her– he was the exact same way around candy shops. Everyone needed a place that they were excited to go to, in his opinion.

The librarian– a woman with messy black hair– looked up from behind the counter and greeted them with a nod, before going back to reading her book. Impulse caught a glimpse of the name tag that was pinned to her shirt, the name ‘Evelyn’ written in neat cursive.

Pearl led Impulse into a room full of bookshelves and, of course, books. “I’m going to go look for some books,” she whispered to him, “you can go off and see if there’s anything that catches your eye.”

Impulse nodded. “Alright. See you in a bit,” he whispered back, and watched Pearl disappear into the maze of bookshelves.

Looking around, Impulse began to wander. The library was well stocked with literature on nearly every subject he could think of, with golden labels on the end of every bookshelf to indicate what the books in that particular section were about. He found himself walking past the shelves that normally would’ve had his attention– books about redstone and industry ignored as he gazed at the shelves.

Finally, a particular bookshelf caught his eye. The label told him that the books here were about all things supernatural, and with a shrug, he began to walk through the aisle. Most books seemed to be rather thick, scholarly texts, which made sense given the topic. A couple books drew his attention– an old book with a faded purple cover and block letters that spelled out Evolution in all capitals, a book on curses, and a book that probably had been misplaced, given its title– The Legend of Theseus. The mythology shelf was right next to the supernatural one, so Impulse took the book and brought it back to where it was hopefully supposed to be.

Once the book was back in the mythology section– next to a very old book with a cracked spine and strange symbols on the cover– Impulse headed back to the supernatural section, glancing over the titles with relative disinterest until a particular book caught his eye. He bent down and carefully took it from the shelf, instinctively brushing off the cover and flipping it open to the cover page. Skimming the summary of the book, Impulse found himself nodding along to the words.

He closed the book and glanced around. Pearl was nowhere to be seen, so he likely still had some time. Tucking the book under his arm, Impulse walked back to the main room of the library, placing the book on the counter. He cleared his throat awkwardly, and Evelyn looked up from her book. “I’d like to check this out, please.”

Evelyn took the book, looking at the spine and writing down something on the sheet in front of her. “An’ what’s your name, sir?” she asked, not looking up from the sheet.

Impulse blinked. “Ah– uh, Impulse.”

Evelyn wrote his name down, before setting her red feather pen down and handing him the book. “Alright, sir. If you’d please return this by the end of next month, and no writin’ or rippin’ any pages out unless you wanna pay for it.”

Impulse took the book and placed it in his bag with a thank you, just as Pearl returned with her collection of books. She gave him a smile, which Impulse returned– albeit a little nervously.

As they were walking out of the library, Pearl asked Impulse if he had seen anything he liked. Impulse answered with a shrug and a shake of his head. “Nah. I’m not much of a reader.”

Something must’ve spooked the horses while they were gone, as Impulse’s horse was clearly nervous when they returned. He calmed the horse down with a bit of petting and a treat Pearl had bought for their horses before mounting up and beginning the journey back home.

It was a little past noon when they returned, and they were greeted by Scar and a barely awake Grian. Mumbo was busy working on something, but he soon ran over to say hi and help with the supplies and horses.

The rest of the day went by as normally as it could– it was a calm day for the most part, the only “mishap” being Grian stealing Mumbo’s rocket launcher as revenge for drawing a mustache on him while he slept. They all ate dinner together as they usually did, and after, Impulse left to go to his tent.

Finally alone and in the quiet, Impulse took the book out from his bag, brushing his fingers over the title.

The Art of Summoning - Demons.

He opened the book.

Obviously, a book given out at a library wasn’t about to teach him how to summon a demon– void knows he didn’t want to do that, anyway– but Impulse had always been fascinated by demons. He had been told a lot of stories as a child, which probably was the reason for his interest, but there was also… something else. He had been drawn– pulled to this book, almost. As if by magic, or something.

…some demons can grant their summoner a wish– whether it be super strength, speed, or even flight, there have been records of people making a contract with a demon for their own benefit. When asked why, many of their answers were similar. They wanted to be unique, or special, and had become desperate.

That… sounded familiar. Impulse pressed his lips together in a thin line as he continued to read. He obviously wasn’t desperate enough to summon a demon– he doubted he would even be able to if he wanted to! Which he didn’t. Because that would be crazy.

As he went to turn the page, a sharp pain shot through the tip of his finger. Impulse sucked in air through his teeth as he yanked his hand away, examining the fresh papercut. “Oh, come on…” He shook out his hand, annoyed, before going to flip the page.

As soon as he touched the book, Impulse found that his fingers were almost glued to the page. He couldn’t pull away, couldn’t pull the book off his hand, though he tried frantically to do so. It was then that he noticed a small bead of blood had welled up from the cut, and smeared on the page when he had gone to flip it again.

That… was probably bad.

Just as he was considering calling for help, a soft voice spoke up in his mind. Not soft enough to be inaudible, but not loud enough to be quieted.

Hello.

Impulse tensed up, looking around the tent. “...I didn’t mean to summon you,” he began, “assuming you’re…?”

A demon? The voice was… quite pleasant, actually. Not like anything Impulse had thought a demon would sound like. Yes, I am one. And you haven’t summoned me. Just drawn my attention. I’ve been trapped in this book for quite some time, you see. It’s been a long while since anyone has opened it.

“Why were you trapped inside the book?” Impulse asked, still on edge. “What did you do?”

Well, that’s rude. The demon sounded as if it were pouting, as if Impulse had offended it. I didn’t do anything. I just… It sighed, and its voice took on a tone of loneliness. I was young when I came to this world. I… wanted to be different, I guess, from the rest of the demons. Everyone had this cool thing going for them… one could curse multiple people at once, one could take human form, and everyone else… had something that made them special. I didn’t. I’m just your regular ol’ demon, residing in your thoughts.

Impulse frowned, settling the book carefully on his lap. “So… why did you get put in the book?”

I’m getting to that. I… got excited. I wanted to show everyone that I was special, too, by cursing someone. I didn’t really think things through. The demon paused. I don’t even want to curse someone, anymore. I just want to go home.

“I’m… sorry…” Impulse began, “that sounds really rough.” He sighed, leaning back slightly. “I get it, though, as crazy as that sounds.” He briefly debated on whether or not he should tell someone– a demon, no less– about what he’d been going through. “I’m… the only human in my friend group,” he started, hesitant, “and it’s just… I’ve always been just a guy. Just Impulse. And no matter what I do, I’ll never be able to change that.”

There was a moment of silence, and Impulse could almost feel the demon thinking. Well… maybe you could. Maybe, we could both help each other out.

Impulse’s brow furrowed. “What are you thinking of?”

I know, you were against summoning demons earlier, but… hear me out, okay? I could tell you how to summon me, and not only would that free me from this book, but I could also maybe grant your wish!

The demon sounded… genuinely so excited at the prospect of being freed. Being trapped, all alone, for however long it had been, must’ve been really difficult. Impulse didn’t blame the demon for wanting to be free. He would want the same thing, were he in the demon’s position.

…and maybe, just maybe, a small, selfish part of him spoke up and influenced his reasoning. But Impulse closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and sighed. “Alright. I’ll help you. Tell me how to summon you.”

Excellent choice! Alright, first things first, you’re going to…

Impulse was painfully, bitterly human.

He refused to be just Impulse forever.

#my writing #boatem knights au #impulsesv #pearlescentmoon #grian #goodtimeswithscar #mumbo jumbo #hermitcraft fanfic

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minihotdog · 3 months

Text

Locked Out On Valentine's (Choose Your Ending)

(Photo Cred: @chatskaja on twitter) <3

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader

Summary: You get locked out on Valentine's Day and have to sleep over at a certain Lt.'s flat.

C/W: Reader is dressed a little inappropriately

A/N: Never tried something like this before so I hope it buffs out. Also, super late Valentine's fic whoops

Word Count: 1k

“What do you mean he’s not available?!” You stand with your forehead against your door.

“Barrack’s manager is out on leave, he’ll be back tomorrow. Recommend you stay with a friend for now.”

“Wait! Where’s the emergency ma-” *click*

What the fuck!

You huff, banging your head against the outside of your door. Today was one of the worst days of your life. You planned a date with your boyfriend of one year only to be dumped right before you were supposed to meet up. And after bawling your eyes out decide to run out to the fountain to get back the hydration you lost.

The redness around your eyes finally went away but they were so puffy you couldn’t even see your keychain still hanging on the wall.

You’re now stuck in the middle of the hall on Valentine’s Day in a short tank top and your bedtime booty shorts hoping a soul doesn’t appear and see you with all your goods hanging out.

The barracks manager - or whoever that was - told you to find a friend. You didn’t have any here. You’d been in the unit for all of five months and they weren’t all that accepting of new people. They oozed the “prove yourself worthy of our clan” mentality. You roll your eyes just at the thought.

Ughhh. I really don’t want to.

You whine internally as you pull up Cpt. Price’s contact on your phone hoping you’re not interrupting anything.

“Sergeant y/n, what’s the purpose of your call?” He sounds annoyed. You hear a feminine voice in the background and him softly shooshing it.

“Sir! I’ve been locked out of my room and the primary barracks manager won’t be in till tomorrow. I don’t have anywhere to stay.”

“That’s unfortunate, isn’t it?” His voice strains lightly. He’s quiet for a moment and you’re unsure if you’re supposed to say something or…

“I’ll see what I can do. I’ll message you soon.”

You sigh in relief. Maybe he’d contact the emergency manager and they’ll come unlock your door.

You stand with your arms crossed, back against the cold wall for what feels like forever until your phone finally buzzes.

Cpt. Price: Bld 920 Room 1208. Stay there tonight.

You’re about to flood him with questions, like: Where’s the key? Is there someone already there? Who’s room is this? But before you’re done typing he sends one last message.

Cpt. Price: I’m busy tonight with work so no need to thank me. Or call me again.

Work…? Yeah right!

The room was at least in the same building as you. Beats trekking in the snow in slippers and the ungodly attire you have on at the moment.

You make your way up the stairs cursing the base for not putting an elevator in your building. You peer at each door while wandering further down the hall.

1206… 1207… 1208!

You take a deep breath before knocking quietly.

God, I hope it’s at least a woman.

A few seconds go by before the door swings open. You stand wide-eyed. If you had less control your jaw would be on the floor too.

You stare back at your Lt. in all his glory. He stares back at you in nothing but low-hanging sweatpants. His blond hair is disheveled, the color matching the patch of hair on his bare sculpted chest. You’d seen him maskless before but from afar. He’s someone many avoided, his demeanor wasn’t exactly inviting and his wrath, from the rumors, was even worse.

The light flooding through the door frame illuminates his face enough to show the fine features up close. The scars running through his lips and cheeks only add to the stirring inside you that’s leaving you speechless.

As you try to stop yourself from ogling him right here and now he notices your eyes popping out of your skull and softly blows air out of his nose.

Is he laughing at me?

He decides to finally break the staring contest.

“What d’you want, pet?”

You stutter a bit before getting the words out,

“I got locked out, the captain told me to come here. He didn’t tell me it was your place.”

It was his turn to let his eyes wander. His eyes rake over your tank top, your arm over your chest to conceal the fact you’re braless, your exposed stomach and shorts that barely did their job as clothes. You stand there waving your water bottle around as you speak, completely unaware of the look on his face.

A smirk pulls at one of his lips as he listens to you ramble about the barracks managers not doing their jobs. Your voice gradually gets higher the angrier you get.

“What the hell are you wearin’?” He interrupts.

“Why are you answering the door half-naked?” You shoot back.

He sneers, “You show up at my door wantin’ a place to stay and you have an attitude?” He pulls his phone from his pocket seeing a barely coherent message from Price.

“Fine. No point in arguin’, Price is probably with the missus, doesn’t want to be bothered.” He steps to the side allowing you to come in. You cautiously accept and step into the space.

His place was neat, and well-kept, more like an apartment rather than the prison they kept you in. You turn back to look at him and notice the tattoos covering the skin of his arm. He pretends not to notice you checking him out as he walks to the hallway closet and pulls out a pillow and blanket.

He hands them to you, “Is that enough or d’you need a bedtime story too?”

“Little Red Riding Hood’s my favorite, please.” You snark, as you drop the pillow and lean over to throw the blanket over the cushions. You swear you hear his breath catch in his throat but get quickly covered up by him clearing his throat.

“So… What are you up to on Valentine’s Day?” You prod hoping to learn something about the most feared individual of the unit.

“Just another day, means nothin’.” He leans against the wall behind him. You sit with your legs crossed on the almost comically large couch, probably custom-made for his giant ass. You lean on your hand and look up at him.

“Is that so?”

“What happened to that muppet you’re always moanin’ bout? Should be with him.” He tilts his head to the side.

“Nah, he’s no good. Decided he liked by friend better.” You laugh sadly. “Can’t seem to keep them this time of year. I’m too cool for it.” You try to joke but end up cringing on the inside. His chest rises with a soft chuckle.

“That right?”

“You know it.” You wink at him.

The two of you go quiet for a moment.

He decides to break the silence.

”You want some tea, love?

*** Decision Time ***

Why not? I'm already here and he's being nice. Sure, I'll have some tea.

Or...

I don't wanna be a bother. He's already having to let me stay over. I'm gonna pass on tea.

#Simon Riley #Simon ghost riley #ghost #simonghostrileysmut #simonrileysmut #codsmut #simonrileyxreader #simonghostrileyxreader #ghostxreader #ghost x reader

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strniohoeee · 6 months

Note

hii can u please write a matt fic where reader is a singer(shes his gf already) and she had a show one day so when she performed he was there and like the choreography for one of the dances was very slutty(kinda like vigilante shit live performance by taylor swift)and then the night they are at home and they’re in bed matts like “u looked so fucking hot today doing that dance” and one thing leads to another and smutty smut smut happens totally fine if u dont like this idea love u💕

Remedy

Pairing: Matt Sturniolo X Female Reader

Synopsis: Y/N is a singer and after a seductive performance Matt is left feeling some type of way. Will he act on these urges??🌑

Warnings⚠️: SMUTTTTT. Mirror sex, slight choking, matt being a little slutttt, and that’s about all. Enjoyyyy teehee🤭

Song for the imagine: Novacane- Frank Ocean

⚠️This is an 18+ imagine, so minors do not interact, or do??⚠️

But there's no drug around

Quite like what I found in you, you

I loved singing and I was so fortunate enough to be Matt’s girlfriend because he knew people and was able to get me gigs. I was so fucking thankful for him because without him I would still be singing in my room and posting it to YouTube.

Tonight I actually had a show for this talent show type of thing in town. It was a pretty big event, but also a talent show designed by people who are looking to scout out the next Ariana Grande. I was super grateful that Matt was able to pull some strings and get me in. I wasn’t sure that I wanted to be this huge famous singer, but to catch the eyes of people who could make me famous, and just get my name out there a little more did sound appealing.

I was super excited to perform this set because I was able to get a few backup dancers and come up with a seductive and powerful dance. I actually was so excited to step outside of my comfort zone and perform something totally different.

Currently I was getting ready with my backup dancers waiting to be called next, and I was so fucking nervous I mean I never did anything like this, and to have Matt, Chris and Nick all watching formed a pit in my stomach.

Not to mention this was my first time dancing on stage in front of a bunch of people in heels….. I was so fucking scared. We wore black blazers with black lingerie under, fishnet stockings and red heels. This was all so new to me I felt like throwing up. I’ve never worn anything like this publically. But I decided to shake it off, and get ready.

My group and I were the last ones on stage, and we decided they would walk out first, and then me. I looked onto the stage and saw the props being set up, black chairs where we would basically be doing lap dances on. God why did I want to throw up so much? I think it was the fact that Matt and his brothers were front row…

They called out my name, and my girls walked out first sitting the chairs with their legs crossed. I took one last deep breath before walking out and standing sitting in my chair. Suddenly the lights when up on us, and the song started playing

“I bust the windows out your car, and no it didn’t mend my broken heart” I sang out looking up

“I’ll probably always have these ugly scars, but right now. i don’t care about that part” I sang slowly getting up from my chair

I kept singing as I slowly unbuttoned my blazer. Earning cheers from the crowd

I slowly walked to my chair standing behind it “You see you can’t just play with peoples feelings” I sang as I seductively ran my hand down the front of the chair

“Tell them you love them, and don’t mean it” I sang walking to the front of chair

Slowly I turned around bending over slightly to show my ass as I sat down on the chair, giving my back to the crowd.

“You’ll probably say that it was juvenile, but I think that I deserve to smile” I sang running my hand through my hair

Two of my backup dancers came over helping me out of my blazer. Allowing my half naked body to be on display

I leaned back showcasing my neck and half covered breast to the crowd

“I bust the windows out your car, You know I did cause i left my mark” I sang slowly coming back up

I turned over continuing to sing as I ran my hands over my body, spreading my legs and leaning forward. Locking eyes with Matt in the crowd

My backup dancers came over to me running their hands all over my body as I rolled my neck back as I sang.

As I sang we started to dance swaying our bodies, grabbing onto each other. They circled me before getting down on their knees raking their hands up my legs and to my ass

“You could never feel how I felt that day. Until that happens baby you don’t know pain” I sang as we did our next move which was laying on the floor with our legs spread open, and then putting our right left over the left and turning us over. Lifting our ass off the floor slowly as I continued to sing.

“You broke my heart, so I broke your car” I sang slowly getting up and running my hands up my body

“You caused me pain, so I did the same” I sang as we swayed our hips to the beat

We were nearing the end of the performance, and I never felt more powerful than now.

As I sang the last part I seductively walked over to my chair sitting down, and one of my dancers came over sitting on my lap as I ran my hands up her body.

“Now watch, I bust the windows out your car” I sang before the song ended

Everyone was standing up cheering and clapping and whistling at us. We all got up bowing and waving at everyone blowing kisses before we ran off stage.

“HOLY SHIT THAT WAS AMAZING GUYS” I said to my girls

“Dude we fucking killed it” they said as we tried to catch our breath

“I’m so proud of you guys for killing it tonight” I said pulling them into a group hug

We all changed into our regular clothes, saying our goodbyes and heading out. I met Matt and his brothers outside.

“Babyyyyy you fucking did amazing holy shit” Matt said smiling at me and pulling me in for a hug

“Thank you baby” I said kissing him

“Y/N you fucking ate that shit up, I would’ve never thought you were like that” Nick said hugging me too

“I was so nervous I didn’t think I had that in me either” I said laughing

“Yeah I almost felt like I wasn’t supposed to see some of those moves” Chris said laughing and hugging me

“Stoppp thank you guys” I said laughing

We headed out to have a celebratory dinner before heading back home.

When we got back to the triplets house I decided to shower and change into some pajamas before heading to Matt’s bed.

“Thank you for coming tonight” I said to Matt as I snuggled up to him

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world” he said winking at me

“You’re too good to me” I said kissing him

“My sexy girlfriend singing and dancing, how could I not be front row” he said smiling into the kiss

“You’re making me blush” I said smacking his chest playfully

“That dance was so fucking hot, and that outfit whewww could’ve sworn I got hard” he said in a whisper

“Oh yeah?” I asked smirking at him

“Might have to buy you more lingerie and fishnets now” he said licking his lips

“You dirty boy” I said to him

He glanced at me before pulling me in to smash our lips together. A heated kiss full of tongue and clashing teeth. So needy and hungry….fuck I needed Matt now

He pulled me on top of him, deepening our kiss as he ran his hands down my back and to my ass, gripping.

“God you drive me crazy” he said pulling away and running his tongue along his teeth

“I need you like now” I said running my fingers along his face

“Me too” he said his pupil dilated

I lifted up pulling my shirt off exposing my chest to Matt as I leaned forward smashing our lips together again. Running my hands up Matt’s shirt causing him to shiver.

I moved my kisses to his jawline, and then down to his neck. Peppering kisses down his neck causing him to moan

“Feeling good Matty?” I asked looking up at him

“Always” he said breathlessly

Matt lifted up to remove his shirt

“I love your tattooed arm” I said running my hands along his arm looking over at him to see him already staring at me

“Yeah?” He asked his chest rising up and down

“So so hot…maybe you can fuck me with your arm around my neck” I said winking at him

His eyes widen before his cheeks redden a bit.

I lean back down as I kiss him again, our chests touching making my skin burn and my heart flutter with desire.

I slid off of Matt to take my underwear off, he took off his pajama pants as well along with his underwear. When I looked over to him he was looking over at the mirror that’s diagonal from his bed.

I smirked, and looked at him

“Want to fuck me infront of the mirror pretty boy?” I asked

“If you want me to” he said looking over at me

“I want nothing more” I said

He pulled me back on top of him continuing to kiss him

I slowly started to grind on his dick allowing my arousal to cover him

“Mmm keep doing that and I’ll cum” he said looking down in between us

I moaned at his words and the feeling of his thick cock hitting my clit. I shuddered around him

“Gonna let me fuck that pretty pussy go yours?” He asked running his hands up my body

“Please” I mewled out

Matt lifted up slowly allowing me to fall back as he leaned over, wrapping his hand around my neck as he kissed me. Using that same same hand to turn my head as he kissed down my neck to my chest and down the valley of my breasts

From the valley of my breast he licked his way up back to my mouth where we made out

“I can’t hold out any longer” he said pulling

“Fuck me Matt” I croaked out

Matt lifted me up and brought me to the corner of his bed facing towards the mirror

“You get to watch me fuck you dumb” he said running his hand down my back and smacking my ass

“Oh Matt” I moaned out

He massaged my ass looking into my eyes through the mirror. He licked his lips before bringing his dick to my entrance slowly sliding into me

I let my mouth fall open as I gripped the sheets. Matt stretched me out so good everytime we fucked it made my head dizzy.

“So tight” he said bottoming out as he let his head roll back

“Fuck Matt you feel so good” I moaned out

Slowly he started to thrust into me, deep and harder. Our moans filling the room as he fucked into me

Matt gripped my waist as he fucked me causing me to fall more limp into the bed as I watched him in the mirror.

Matt’s mouth was hung open as he grunted into me, looking over at me in the mirror as his cold eyes laid on mine. Causing me to clench down on him, my stomach burning with arousal

“Shitttttt” I moaned out gripping the sheets harder

Matt kept pounding into me as he smacked my ass occasionally. I was just watching him as moans and pants fell out. My mouth hung up as I started to drool on the sheets.

“Am I fucking you dumb?” He asked licking his lips

“Y-Yes” I moaned out shutting my eyes as he started to drill into me even faster

Matt lifted me up by my hair causing me to gasp

“Look at yourself, making a mess on my cock” he said whispering into my ear as he looked into my eyes through the mirror

“Fuck Matt” I moaned out letting my head fall forward slightly as my mouth hung open

Matt pulled me back wrapping his tattooed arm around my neck as he pounded into me

“MATTT” I moaned out at the new feeling

“I’m giving you your wishes” he grunted out

His dick hitting all the right places, and I was pure puddy in his arms

“I get to watch you take my cock like a good slut and your perfect tits bounce in the mirror” he said grabbing my right breast and squeezing

“I’m going to cum” I moaned out letting my head fall forward slightly

“Me too baby, come on give it to me. I’m begging for it pretty girl” he said into my ear

Matt’s hips were snapping into me in such a delicious way, my mouth fell slack and I started to drool on his arm.

“Drooling on me now are we? Am I fucking you that good?” He asked biting his lip

“Fuck Matt…YES YES SO GOOD” I moaned out as he brought his other hand down to rub my clit

“Come on baby cum on my cock” he said rubbing faster

“Fuckkkkk” I moaned out started to quiver against him

“Give it to me I know you can” he said

“I- I’m- I’m gonna cum” I stuttered out

My mouth fell slack as I clenched down onto Matt. My orgasm washing over me as I shook on Matt’s cock. My thighs shaking and giving out on me

“Fuck Matt oh my god” I said breathing heavily as I looked at him through the mirror

“I’m gonna cum baby” he said moaning into my ear

He let me lean forward as he pulled out stroking his dick before letting his jaw fall slack. His lower abdomen began to quiver as he came on my ass

“Fuckkk y/n” he moaned out as he shuddered

He looked at me through the mirror trying to catch his breath.

“You look so fucking sexy like this” he said licking his lips

“Fuck Matt I love you so much” I said blissed out

“I love you so much too” he said

Matt got off the bed grabbing a warm towel and cleaning me up. Before helping me off the bed.

“Let’s shower” he said helping me to his bathroom

Matt and I showered, and then got out. We decided to have a snack before heading back to his room to watch a movie. We eventually dozed off in each others arms.

The End

I know I said I wasn’t in the mood to write,but suddenly I got in the mood. So I hope you enjoyed this one. As much as I did🤭🖤🖤

-J💅🏽

#matt sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplet smut #sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo smut #smut

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jksprincess10 · 6 months

Text

Title: Back home

TW: flufffffff, domestic ! din, husband !din, allusions to smut and baby making but they don't do it, wound cleaning, taking care of Din, short drabble, Din is super strong and can lift you.

Mando'a words translation: riddur = wife, mesh'la = beautiful, cyar'ika = sweeatheart.

Divider by @saradika

Din Djarin masterlist

His shoulders are slumped, heavy. His steps are careful, though. He knows it's late, the kid is already sleeping, and you're probably snoring too in your shared bed.

Not a tiny cot, but a real bed. This still feels unreal, and he can't help the smile that tugs at his lips.

He stops in the kitchen, and the helmet comes off with a hiss. From the corner of his eye, he sees light in your room.

In a flash, you're out and all around him.

His riduur.

Din settles the helmet carefully on the counter before he wraps his arms around you, taking in your fresh scent.

Sometimes, he was gone for days, on mysterious missions to "protect the peace". You didn't ask questions. You waited and took care of the kid - that wasn't your flesh, but was very much treated like it.

You yearned for him.

And then there he was. You know he was trying to be quiet, but you had a feeling he would be back tonight.

You take in his musk, a mixture of sweat and the coopery scent of blood. You cup his cheeks with your hands and look up in horror as you see the bruises on his face. His bloody nose. The way his body is tired and heavy.

"You're hurt." You state in a worried voice.

"I'm fine, mesh'la. Promise."

You shake your head and bring him to your room. He sits on the side of your bed while you get some medical supplies.

You kneel in front of him and clean his wounds in silence. Your warrior looks down at you with adoration sparkling in his deep, brown eyes. He doesn't budge under the stinging sensation.

Then, you're up on your feet again. You undo his heavy cape, let it fall on the mattress. You carefully take off his pauldrons, his chest armor, the belts around his chest.

This was your way of taking care of him. And he lets you.

You knew just how precious the beskar was to him, and you treated it with respect.

You keep going, undoing the armor covering his thighs. Eventually, you help him out of the fabric covering him, uncovering tan, scarred skin. You inspect him but you're happy not to find any more bruises, and you kiss his shoulder gently.

You put his clothes and armor aside, but he can't stay away from you any longer, and you feel his strong arms pulling you towards his chest. You hum softly and lift up your chin, twisting your head to kiss him.

"Is the kid asleep?" He finally asks, his head resting on your bare shoulder.

"Hmhm. It was hard to make him sleep, though." You turn in his embrace. "You should use the refresher."

"But..." He tightens his arms around you. "I don't want to leave you."

"Din." He can hear the endearment in your voice. "I love you so much, but you smell...so bad."

He chuckles, defeated.

"Fine."

But before you can do anything, he lifts you up and brings you with him.

You get rid of the rest of your clothes in resignation and join him under the water. You watch in awe as water takes over his curls. You admire the rest of him without any restraint. He his yours after all.

You ask him to turn around, and your hands get to work on his broad shoulders. You can't grasp all of his hard muscle, but you do try to ease the tension. He hums in appreciation and uses his hand to brace himself as you work on him.

Your hands eventually leave his shoulders, get to work on his back. When you're done, you give his asscheeks a little squeeze.

He chuckles and turns around, arms coming around you.

"Grogu missed you."

"And you, mesh'la?"

He corners you slowly, your back against the cold tile as he holds his palms on your sides.

"Every day. Every night." You whisper, out of breath.

"Hmm. I'm sorry."

He leans down to kiss you again in a more heated exchange, want pulling at him. You lay your palms on his chest and push him softly.

"You're tired. We can do all of that - and more, tomorrow."

"Fine." He whines.

Amused, you squirt some shampoo in your hands and get to work on his hair. He puts his head to your level so you can access his hair easily.

"I was thinking..." He starts.

"Hmhm?" You ask, concentrated on your task. You massage his scalp softly.

"I want to conceive a baby."

You stop for a few seconds, and start again.

"Is this why you are so eager to get in my pants?"

"Maybe." He smiles, satisfied. "A little brother or sister for Grogu...just think about it, mesh'la. You don't have to say anything just yet."

You rinse his hair and when the soap is all gone, you cup his face in your hands.

"I want all of it. All of you. But I want you to rest first."

"Understood, cyar'ika."

#din djarin #din djarin fluff #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x yn

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goldribboncottage · 6 months

Text

Rock Her Shit | Hazel Callahan x Reader

Brain is rotting all I can think about is Hazel Hazel Hazel so I wrote this. Your crush Hazel punches you in the face and needs to do first aid. Locker room lesbian activities happen.

plus size/tall reader implied, she’s bigger than hazel is at least. i will probably make a part two because i fantasize about reader kicking PJ in the chest after saying mean things to Hazel

Your favorite thing about Hazel, besides her deep blue eyes, dimples, and adorably awkward personality, was her rings. All silver, probably curated from years of thrifting and estate sales. Your favorite was one she had favored on her right middle finger. It was some sort of bug. You were never able to get a close enough look at it. But it hurt like a bitch when it collided with your face.

Slamming down on the gym floor added to the pain. Hazel was a lot shorter than you, and probably half your weight. You had taken a liking to platform shoes lately - that only added to your size difference. But as little as she was. she was strong.

“Oh SHIT!” You heard one of the girls say. Your ears were ringing. A blurry Hazel is above you, hair falling wildly over her face. Your head falls to the side, searching for some comfort on the cold hardwood floor.

“Y/N? Y/N are you okay?” Hazel looked so concerned, pleading eyes and furrowed brows. She pouted and shook you to get a response. You could hear the other girls in the fight club chattering, wondering what to do. All you could think to do was laugh.

“What the fuck Callahan.” You turn towards her and smile, but see tears welling in her eyes “I thought we were becoming friends. Help me up.”

“I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to ohmygod you’re bleeding. SHE’S BLEEDING SOMEONE GET A TOWEL!” She grabs your arm places her hand under your head to help you sit up. You brought your hand up to your left cheek feeling warmth and see crimson as you lift it away. Huh. You were bleeding.

“Hazel, I’ll be fine. I’m super tough. One time in girl scouts I slept in a tent. For three nights!” you tried to ease the tension and sad look on her face. This made her smile a little bit, so you continued. You couldn’t stand her looking so remorseful. “And once, when I went to a movie, they were out of blue raspberry ICEEs. I was so brave about it. I only drank cherry that night. I can basically handle anything.”

You can see the tension in her melt away, and Sylvie hands her a towel. “This still looks pretty bad. Let’s go to the bathroom so I can clean you up. I think my ring cut you.” Hazel hands you the towel and shows you where to hold it.

Standing all the way up now, you make your way to the locker room with her.

You lean against the sink, looking at your bloody face in the mirror. Could be cool, you thought, a scar right on your cheek. Maybe it would make your eyes pop.

Hazel brings an old plastic chair for you to sit in. “My lady,” She gestures you to sit down. She also found a first aid kit in the coach’s office. She throws the bloody towel in the trash and begins to clean your wound. It stings, but you try not to show it. She leans over you as she helps you. Hazel is really gentle, taking her time to clean your cut.

“Does that feel better?”

You nodded but didn’t know what to say, so you just sat quietly, letting her do first aid on you and taking this opportunity to study her face. Her eyes seemed darker somehow. You knew they were blue, but the bad locker room lighting made them almost black. You noticed how sometimes a piece of hair would fall into her face and annoy her. You wanted to tuck it behind her ear for her. Pieces stuck out randomly, her hair looked so soft. She kept making eye contact with you and abruptly looking away.

You had never been this close to her before. You had admired her from afar when fight club started, reading her recap emails and giggling at the weird things she said. You had shared classes with her since freshman year but had never really /noticed/ her. Too caught up in your own world and studies. But she crashed into your life and demanded attention.

Your eyes, naturally, fell to her lips. They looked kind of chapped, and she had a small tear from a fight with PJ last week. They looked so soft. Pink. Kissable. Something overcame you then, and before you knew it your hand was on her face, fingers resting on her round cheeks, thumb brushing the injury on her bottom lip.

“Y/N?” Hazel locks eyes with you. Frozen. Unsure what to do. She just punched you in the face and cut your cheek with a dragonfly ring, now here you are staring up at her with glossy eyes and parted lips, your hand on her face.

“Yeah?” You bite your lip in response. No going back now. You tuck a piece of hair behind her face and she kneels down before you.

“Are you gonna kiss me?” Hazel inquires.

“Do you want me to?” You ask back.

“Yes please.”

Your lips meet, tasting like honey chapstick and Hazel. Your hand finds the back of her head and you deepen the kiss. Her lip splits open again and adds the taste of metallic blood to your kiss. You didn’t care. Something insatiable was unlocked in you, Hazel’s grip going to your hips that spilled over the small school issued chair.

She climbs up on to you, straddling you and gripping the back of your head. Your other hand goes to the curve of her lower back. All of the pain in your head is forgotten when she grips your waist and pulls you into her.

Open, wet kisses follow, moaning into each other, needing more more more. She grabs your face in her hands and moves you toward her. The pain of your cheek only intensifies the pleasure of Hazel’s lips on yours, tongues together.

Hands go wild on each other, hers lift the side of your shirt to grab your love handles, so aptly named. Your hands creep under the back of her oversized t shirt, when you hear the door to the locker room open. Thank god you’re out of sight.

“Hey Hazel how is Y/N doing? Do you guys need any help?”

Hazel’s eyes grow wide and her head whips towards Josie’s voice. Breathless, she replies “We’re good! Thanks! Just bandaging her up now! Be out soon.”

You look at each other again, and Hazel places soft, tender kisses to your lips and uncut cheek.

“What just happened?” She asks you, as if your guess is any better than hers.

“I don’t know, but I’d like if it happened again. And again, and again.” You smile and look up at the girl in your lap. Her bunny teeth and dimples show as she nods furiously.

“Let me actually clean you up now. Shit. There’s blood on my hand. Oh my god. I’m not a very good nurse. I told them we needed to bring in a first aid person! PJ never wants to listen to what I say.” As she lifts herself off you, you can’t help but miss the weight on your hips.

“Well I am very sorry for interrupting your healing nurse Hazel. If there’s any way I can make it up to you please let me know. I promise to be the perfect patient next time.” You make your way over to the sink and wash your wound once again. “It doesn’t look too bad, I think just a larger bandaid will be fine. I’ll take good care of it. No more hot girls grabbing my face.”

“Hot girls? What?” Hazel looks worried before you reassure her.

“I mean you. You are the hot girl.” You smile at each other.

“Oh. Okay” She sounds relieved. “Yeah just, let me grab a bandaid and we can go back out there and nothing happened here okay?” She turns away from you and opens the first aid kit, searching for something to protect your face.

“Hazel, I don’t want to forget this. I really like you. Like. Romantically as a human person. I know there’s obvious sexual compatibility but I would love to take you out on a date if you want?” You were incredibly nervous to ask her out, despite the fact that you had been dry humping less than a minute earlier.

She opens the bandaid and places it lovingly on your cheek, looking up at you before responding. “Yeah. Yes. I would really like that. My mom just bought me a car so I can take us anywhere you want to go. The planetarium is starting a new series next week. I like to go there. Or we can go on a picnic or see a movie or something. I like to go to the special screenings the theater has where the sound isn’t as loud. It’s on Saturday mornings and it’s mostly kids movies bu-“

You cut her off with a peck on the lips. “I’d be happy to do any and all of those things. But let’s get back out there, okay? I don’t want the girls to worry about me. I’ll call you when the club is over.”

“Yeah, okay! Yeah” She motions for you to lead the way out. Back into the gym of a dozen girls wondering why it took you so long to clean up, concerned for your well being.

#bottoms movie #hazel bottoms #hazel callahan #hazel callahan x reader #bottoms hazel #hazel callahan imagine #bottoms movie 2023 #hazel callahan x you #lesbian #lesbin fanfiction #plus size reader

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inklessletter · 1 year

Text

No, but hear me out; Steve is genuinely good with kids and toddlers. Like, absurdly good. He engages with them because he finds them not only adorable, but really fun to be around. Steve kind of gets how they think, loves to play with them, their funny logic, how seriously they take what’s happening in their busy little minds. He finds them fascinating, and they often surprise him in the best ways. Steve respects them, and kids perceive that and love and respect him back. Also, to Steve, spending time with kids is socially freeing. When he’s around kids he’s not worrying about social cues, or saying something wrong, or can stop paying attention to his manners or his looks.

Steve loves kids, and kids love him back.

And Holly Wheeler is the living proof of that.

Read it on Ao3

There is a bonus scene of this, just saying

—

You drew stars (around my scars)

Mike was the only one in the family who actively resisted to like Steve. Since he set foot in the Wheelers household, everyone in the family seemed to be head over heels for him. He had heard his father admitting more than once that Steve was a fine good young man; his mom was delighted with him since the very first dinner because he helped with the cleaning up after every time (he even brought flowers every now and then, ugh); and of course, he had to endure Nancy’s annoying pining and giggling for months. Then they started dating and he was at home almost every day and it was insufferable having him around every goddamn day.

But the worst one was Holly.

Before Steve, Holly used to chase Mike around, wanting to be with him all the time. Of course, Mike shoved her out almost every time, especially when his friends were over. Lucas understood him; he knew what having an annoying little sister was like. Sometimes she was around, when they were drawing their D&D characters, Will would save a seat for her and let her borrow his big box of colors, or Dustin gave her treats under the table.

Mike Wheeler didn’t want to deal with Holly after him all the time, but when Steve showed up, Holly got totally smitten with him. He wouldn’t pressure her to give him a kiss, but instead, he high fived her. Steve called Holly “Super Star”.

“Hey, what’s up, Super Star? How was school today? Did Timmy borrow your doll? Again?”

“Hey Super Star, wanna sit next to me for dinner? I bet I can beat you, I’ll eat my baby carrots faster than you!”

“I heard Super Star was feeling funny in the tummy today. Are you okay? Will you feel better if we make a tea party with your stuffed buddies? Yeah?”

Then, suddenly Super Star didn’t want to do anything with Mike anymore. Now it was all Steve.

(Sure, Mike didn’t like having her around, but he didn’t want Steve to steal her from him either. That’s two out of two, not that long ago, Nancy actually DMed campaigns for him and his friends, and then she decided she liked him and now it was suddenly a dumb game.)

When Nancy dumped his stupid ass in November of 1985 Mike almost made a happy dance. The nightmare was over.

But the fucker appeared at the door the day before Christmas with a gift for Holly. He didn’t stay for dinner, but he handed it to Karen.

It was a stupid light board.

Dustin was suddenly attached to him now. Now they were friends. Lucas was also fond of him. Steve was cool now for his friends too, apparently. And don’t get him wrong, what he did to defend them was amazing. He hated to admit that it was a little bit cool (but Steve’s panicked face when he woke up in the back of Billy’s car driven by Max was awesome).

Yeah, after all that shit they talked a little bit. Mike made himself crystal clear that he still didn’t like him, and Steve just sighed and told him that he knew. Mike was about to go victorious after that, but Stupid Steve had to add “anyhow, if you need anything, you can always reach me.”

He still kept showing up for Holly’s birthdays. He still brought her Christmas presents secretly. Mike knew that Steve showed up considerably early when he was going to pick him up and his friends to give them a ride to the arcade, or to the mall, or wherever just to spend half an hour playing with Holly.

Holly laughed the loudest whenever they were playing in the living room together. And it’s not that Mike wasn’t glad that his sister was happy, it was just— He couldn’t be so flawless. Nancy called him bullshit, she must have seen something in him. No one was that perfect.

He was still around for the upcoming apocalypses. He was starting to make peace with the fact that Steve wasn’t going anywhere, when he stole yet another friend from Mike.

Now he and Eddie had bonded.

They were often together and that riled Mike up like no other. Hawkins was full of people, did Steve have to put a goddamn spell on anyone around him?

Even when Mike hosted in his basement the Hellfire campaigns after Eddie graduated, Eddie showed up at his front door with Steve.

“You are not a Hellfire member, Steve,” Mike deadpanned.

As an answer, Steve lifted a box. A brand new toy doctor kit. He smiled.

“I didn’t come to see you anyway. Isn’t Holly’s birthday this weekend? I have an early gift for her.”

“You’re so lame.”

“Get new material, Wheeler,” Steve rolled his eyes.

Eddie observed the interaction, both of them coming in. Mike closed the door.

“Well, I mean, I’m not surprised you want to spend so much time with Holly, I guess you need someone of your intellect so you can stop feeling stupid all the time around adults.”

Steve stopped for a second. He looked at him as if he wanted to actually reply. He let out a sigh, and went upstairs. God, Mike resisted the urge to fully smile. He glanced at Eddie, who was giving him a dead serious, borderline angry look.

Mike rolled his eyes.

“Wheeler, while I do appreciate that you’re hosting the new campaign, I’m gonna say something, and I’m gonna say this just once, so listen carefully. Treat him like this once more, and you’re out of Hellfire.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“That’s bullshit!”

“No, you being an asshole with him is. I already lectured Dustin for this, and now I’m lecturing you. I will not tolerate any Hellfire member to behave like this towards friends. That, that is bullshit.”

“He’s not my friend.”

“Like hell he’s not. He cares for you, he does shit for you and you not only do not thank him, you pay him by treating him like shit. He’s saved your ass several times. He pays your fucking late dues, man. Like, shit, give back the tapes on time, Christ.”

Mike was fully uncomfortable now. He crossed his arms and bit his tongue to not snap at Eddie any more.

“Look,” Eddie said, calming his tone. “I don’t know if anything happened between you two, and I don’t want to know, but he’s going through a lot lately. A lot, Mike. You don’t—Shit, you don’t have to like him. Just—just don’t treat him like this, okay? I’m serious about cutting you off Hellfire if you keep this shit.”

Eddie headed down the basement, and Mike was left uneasy.

That afternoon was by far his worst performance in D&D. He had been replaying the conversation with Eddie in his head on and off all the time, but Eddie didn’t give him shit for it, because he knew.

Eddie, an understanding DM as he was, called on a break, and Mike bolted upstairs.

He headed to Holly’s bedroom, the door wasn’t closed all the way. He stopped before coming in to put his thoughts in order and apologize properly. He heard the voices behind the door.

“Doctor Super Star, there are no more patients for you to save! You did great! You cured them all!” Steve said in a funny voice.

“But your tummy hurts!”

“My tummy hurts? Oh, no, ugh! It hurts so bad!”

Mike peeped, still hidden, observing the scene. He saw Steve doing a pretty poor performance of a faint, and he fell, belly up over the rug, amongst the plush toys scattered around. Holly, dressed as a doctor, rounded him and kneeled at his side.

“I’m going to give you an injection to save you!”

“Oh, please, Doctor Super Star, please, it hurts so bad! N-no, Holly, holly don’t lift my—”

Holly did, and Mike froze.

Both Wheelers looked at the sudden exposed skin of Steve, all covered in nasty, pink scars. Eddie’s words resonated in the back of his mind loud and clear, and he suddenly understood what Steve was going through lately. Those scars were—God, they were gruesome. That must have hurt like shit. He heard what happened, but now he was seeing it.

That could have been his sister.

Or Robin.

That could have been anyone there, but it was Steve.

Mike gulped, feeling a heavy weight in the pit of his stomach.

“It’s okay, Holly,” Steve spoke softly, but Mike could feel the nervous, vulnerable tone after his words.

Holly passed a finger ever so slightly, over one of the scars. She looked both curious and serious. Steve’s abdomen flinched a bit.

“Does it hurt?” Holly asked, softly.

Steve closed his eyes and put on a flaky smile, facing the ceiling.

“Yeah,” Steve whispered. “Yeah they—they hurt sometimes.”

Steve let her wander her small hand, examining his torso.

“They’re pretty.”

A silence. A broken voice. “They’re not.”

“Yes, they are. They look like stars.”

Then, Holly, slowly, put against his stomach a bright pink toy syringe and faked an injection.

“Now you’re cured. Now it doesn’t hurt.”

Mike couldn’t see Steve’s whole face, but he saw enough before he turned away from Holly to see. His expression crumpled, and he saw Steve’s bob apple up and down a couple times. If he wasn’t crying, he was about to.

“You cured me, Doctor Super Star. Good job!”

“Wait! I’m not finished!”

Holly jolted to his drawer, where he kept all her drawing stuff. She came back with a few colored sharpies, and got back to the same position she was before. Steve observed her.

Then Holly put the sharpie nib softly against Steve’s belly, and he observed.

She drew stars over Steve’s scars.

“See? They are pretty. They’re stars.”

Steve smiled at her. She beamed.

“They are stars. They are pretty.”

After a few seconds, Steve cleared his throat and suggested Holly tidy up all around and draw for a little bit in the living room. Only then Mike reacted, and left the hallway, going back down to the basement.

By the look he gave Mike when he came back, Eddie must have noticed something weird in Mike, but didn’t say anything.

When it was time for all of them to leave (seriously, Mike had been a total disaster), Eddie hushed them all to the van. Steve was saying his goodbyes, and then Mike spoke before he left.

“Hey, Steve.”

He turned around. “Yeah?”

There was a silence, in which Mike tried to find the words. Steve waited.

“I never—I will give the tapes back on time from now on. I’m sorry for that.”

Steve was puzzled.

“Okay?”

Mike was shit apologizing. Mike was shit communicating, at best. He was shit at being vulnerable. Mike was shit at feelings.

“Yeah, and—thank you for—you know. The, um—yeah.”

Mike pursed his lips, crossed his arms. He pinned his eyes to the floor. He could feel his ears and his cheeks grow hotter and pinker.

“Yeah. No problem.”

He could feel Steve’s soft smile in his voice.

“You can go now.”

“Yeah, okay. Bye, Mike,” he said. “Good night Doctor Super Star!”

Holly waved him from Karen’s arms. She even threw him a kiss. He captured it in the air and put it in his pocket.

Mike rolled his eyes.

Ugh.

#stranger things #stranger things fanfic #fic #ficlet #mike wheeler #steve harrington #eddie munson #holly wheeler #fluff

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freestyle-crocodile-trashpile · 1 year

Text

Fear

Summary: Not everyone who walks into devildom is fearless, especially not humans.

Type:Scenario: Brothers + Side character & FTM!MC

Version:One Master

No one can wake up in a room full of men and be fine with it, especially if you don't know these men. And if you were a woman, you'd be horrified. The world you live in is cruel to women, and no matter how strong she is, being surrounded by unknown men can still strike fear into her. But you're not a woman, never were. Well, not by your eyes, you grew up only seen as a girl, you tried to change that but left scared and scarred. So, as someone who was only seen a girl, a woman for the majority of his life, you're scared of these men. The one I'm red could tell you looked through all of them over and over and over again, looking for someone you trust or someone you could trust. But to no avail, you were scared, alone. The one in red stared at you, causing you to cower back, he didn't look away from with. With an unreadable expression.

"MC..."

He had a loud booming voice, one that made you shiver and push yourself more on the floor to hopefully seem smaller. His eyes were dim due to the dark lighting. He stood from his seat.

"I take it your scared, don't be."

What he said didn't help.

"I'm Diavolo, next king of devildom"

Your eyes widened as he continued to explain, before his right hand man, Lucifer, took over. He said he'd answer all your questions, but you hadn't spoken a word. You have been put in a situation where you had no one to turn to, no one to ask for help, you had no one. You wanted to leave. You wanted to be swallowed by the ground. You wanted to be away from these men. When it came time to call your supervisor, a demon... Mammon, you couldn't. You just stared at Lucifer, horrified. Now knowing he was a demon, a demon of Pride. You couldn't bring yourself to do it. He sighed and pulled out his 'DDD', but you were too focused to notice the pink haired demon, Asmodeus walked up to you.

"Aww~ Lucifer you scared him~"

Asmodeus gently touched your arm, but that touch alone caused your whole body to freeze. Your grip on your DDD tightened, and your eyes grew wide.

"Asmo, I don't think that's a good idea."

Satan, the blonde haired demon, said. Clearly taking note of your fear. But Asmodeus didn't listen or care. He leaned into you, particularly hugging you, Diavolo and Lucifer looked at Asmodeus with a harsh look. One he wasn't paying attention to.

"Awe~ Don't worry, it's not me he's scared of~ those mean looks that Luci and Diavolo have are~ isn't that right?"

Asmodeus had a hum to his words, but even tho he sounded nice, you were still scared. Your whole body was tense, your hands were trembling, and your chest tightened as your breath spread up. Diavolo began to look worried, and Lucifer looked more pissed by the second. Beelzebub was the first to act. He walked over to you and Asmodeus super fast, grabbed Asmodeus's arm and pulled him off of you.

"He needs space, Asmo. Don't touch him."

Even though Beelzebub just helped you, you couldn't help but step back away from him. The was massive, was bigger than you. When Mammon burst through the doors you jumped.

"Lucifer! I-I'm here"

As Lucifer explains to Mammon what's going on, Beelzebub turns to you. And gently cups your face.

"You'll be alright. I promise"

Your eyes widen as he nods at you and walks away with Asmodeus, Mammon then comes up to you and starts talking about who knows what. Your focus was all on Beelzebub.

[A/n:I'm not writing a part two to this, btw. It was just a small thing until i can get more motivation to write. I hope you enjoyed]

#obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me mc #obey me x male reader #obey me male mc #obey me x male mc #obey me

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anakin-pilled · 3 months

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𝘨𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘦𝘰𝘶𝘴 - anakin skywalker x fem! reader (part four)

pairing: anakin skywalker x fem! reader

wordcount: 7.1k

warnings: no use of y/n, alchohol consumption, reader gets drunk/tipsy, rushed ending

rating: 18+

author's note: i literally didn't mean for this to come out so late. life got in the way (again). i was super excited to write this chapter but the more i wrote it the more i was like UGH lowkey don't like the way this turned out but i hope you enjoy anyway! when will reader and anakin finally fuck? reblogs, comments, and likes are greatly appreciated xx

side note: i read on wookiepedia that in the sw universe, they refer to alcohol as "hooch" so i used that in the story...not sure if i like it but i wanted it to be immersive lol

creds to saradika for the divider!

The party was in full swing by the time you and Anakin arrived at the party. He knew Coruscant’s rich and famous lived lavish, but he would’ve never imagined attending a party of this splendor. A live jizz band was playing in one corner of the room, their shiny instruments reflecting off the chandelier lights. People of all species flocked to the living room, where protocol droids served an abundance of hooch and fanciful hor d’ourves. The people, dressed in the latest galactic fashion trends, laughed and danced with each other like they had no care in the world. Like there wasn’t a war happening throughout the galaxy–a war that threatened the very comfortability of their lives. Where there was much pain and turmoil in the galaxy, there was none in this room. Anakin was disgusted by this.

The host, an acquaintance named Jackson Wang, lived in an expensive high-rise located in Coruscant’s entertainment district. The three-story apartment was built with the most expensive materials in the galaxy. The windows were composed of reinforced clari-crystalline, and the floor was constructed out of white Wayland marble embedded with specks of Kallistan gems. Gold, shimmery streamers decorated the grandiose columns supporting the apartment, and there was bright, colorful plasto confetti strewn across the floor. The very presence of this room went against the Jedi code–it was an attachment to wealth and materialism. Even if Anakin never joined the Jedi, he still would have found this party revolting. How could people live like this when there was still so much wrong with the galaxy? Slavery, poverty, species discrimination, etc. were all happening under the Republic. Being born a slave radicalized Anakin. It was harder for him to ignore the galaxy’s rampant class differences. It proved to him even further that politicians could not be trusted–because how could they allow such a disparity to run rampant?

Anakin’s eyebrows furrowed as he took in the sight before him. You weren’t sure what he was thinking, but the creases between his eyebrows told you it was nothing positive. You noticed Anakin looked out of place in his humble, dark Jedi attire. You knew this wasn’t his scene, and he might feel out of place, but Anakin insisted on coming. What business did a Jedi have doing at a party like this? “For your protection,” he defended.

“You okay there? You look like you’re about to shoot lightsabers out of your eyes with that glare.” It was true. Anakin’s eyes were a dark, stormy blue right now.

You thought he would have laughed at your stupid joke, but Anakin’s glare only became directed towards you. You shivered in response. His glare was intense which was exacerbated by the scar on his face. His presence exuded authority, it was raw and powerful. You would gladly give into it every time.

“I’m fine. I think this party is ridiculous,” Anakin replied. “Look at all the food just sitting there, no one is eating it, and they’re ignoring the servers. The least they can do is acknowledge the servers. Do you know how many planets are starving out there? Entire systems wiped out by the Separatists? Just for the rich to parade here and let good food spoil.” He scoffed at the end of his sentence.

You had no idea Anakin would feel so strongly about this. However, what Anakin was saying made complete sense. You felt guilty–even if he wasn’t directly speaking about you, these were still your “people.” You always tried your best to not be wasteful and treat all workers respectfully. Even so, it couldn’t be denied that rich people, more often than not, were the opposite of you.

“I agree with you. I don’t know why they order so much food, especially when they know that most people will be too busy drinking, talking, or dancing. Why don’t we make sure that the food doesn’t go to waste by having some?” you offered as a solution. That wasn’t Anakin’s point, but he conceded anyway. The both of you walked towards a table where a pretty spread of food sat like decoration.

After fixing yourselves a small plate of food, you began speaking again. “Thank you, Anakin. You and the Jedi are doing your best to ensure the safety of the Republic and all of the galaxy’s inhabitants. We shouldn’t be allowed to parade here, not while others are struggling to survive.”

“I didn’t intend to insult you. It’s just an observation that I made. You can’t help but become cynical after witnessing war crimes being performed on innocent people.” Anakin was slightly embarrassed. He didn’t mean to group you in with everyone else, especially after you and your team have graciously treated him these last few rotations. But still, he meant what he said.

“How is it being on the battlefield? It must be so hard to be in constant chaos. Anakin, you are so brave, ” you innocently wondered.

Anakin didn’t know how to describe it to a civilian, mainly because Anakin rarely found himself around civilians nowadays. The only civilians he encountered were those who needed saving, those who understood the brutality of war. Anakin knew that not everyone in the Jedi organization agreed with their current roles under the Republic. Some Jedi believed that the Republic was interfering too much with Jedi affairs and that the Jedi should relinquish their roles as generals. Others, including Anakin, believed that the Jedi were too constrained by the Jedi principles and teachings to effectively fight in this war. Though there were many wins for the Republic, almost every loss encountered could’ve been a win, if only the Jedi could see past the teachings for a moment. On top of that, the Senate’s constant feuding and bickering rendered it useless. They could barely fund the war at the moment, hence a select group of Senators decided to host a concert charity benefit to raise credits for the war effort. There was so much uncertainty. If Anakin was certain about one thing, however, it’s that he belonged on the battlefield.

“I hate war…but I love being on the battlefield.” Anakin hesitated for a moment before continuing, “I was a slave, along with my mother, before the Jedi found me. I had only heard of the Jedi. They were mythical to me, they sounded too good to be true.” Anakin never thought he would be revealing this information to another soul, especially not in the middle of a party with one of the galaxy’s biggest singers.

Your breath slightly hitched at Anakin’s confession. A part of your heart shattered, and an overwhelming feeling of empathy and sadness washed over you. Anakin felt the shift in your energy.

“Being a Jedi is an honor, and being on the battlefield allows me to be the type of Jedi that I pictured as a young boy. As a slave, I was subjected to my former owner’s rule, never allowed to act on my own. On the battlefield, I act on my own and make my own decisions. I’m using my power for the greater good, ensuring that the galaxy doesn’t tumble further into chaos and destruction. I can be myself on the battlefield. There’s a sense of independence from everything when it’s just you, your padawan, and your legion. It’s a reminder of how far I have come in life,” Anakin finished with a hard edge to his voice.

“Anakin…I’m so sorry. I didn’t know that you used to be a slave,” You said gently as if the words you spoke were made of glass. Who would have thought that one of the galaxy’s most powerful Jedi used to be a slave? Hearing those words come from Anakin’s mouth shocked you.

“Don’t apologize. You couldn’t have known.” Anakin didn’t want you to feel bad. He looked off to the side, suddenly feeling like his flustered nineteen-year-old self again. This wasn’t information he easily divulged, nonetheless to someone he met only a few rotations ago. Anakin hoped it wouldn’t change your view of him.

You grabbed Anakin’s hand and reassuringly rubbed your thumb on the top of his hand. Your thumb felt the ridges and lines of his veins. “You didn’t deserve that. Neither did your mother–no one ever deserves to be a slave. I’m picturing the young version of you, and my heart is breaking. You were just a child, too innocent and pure to be in that situation. I don’t want you to think I’m pitying you, Anakin. If anything, I think you’re even braver now after learning about your past. Thank you for sharing that with me. It couldn’t have been easy.”

What you were saying was the truth. An image of a small Anakin flashed through your brain. You imagined he had golden hair that illuminated his face like a halo and brilliant blue eyes that contrasted against the rugged, red monochromatic terrain of Tatooine. If Anakin looked like a god now, he must’ve looked like a cherub when he was little. Your awe for Anakin grew tenfold.

He had been dealt life’s shittiest stack of cards and managed to overcome it all.

It was silent for a moment. It’s not that Anakin didn’t want to respond, but he didn’t know how to respond, so he simply nodded. Anakin couldn’t verbalize any words. He felt vulnerable right now. It was as if Anakin responded to your words, it would solidify the fact that he shared one of his deepest secrets with you. He wasn’t ready to confront what that meant, so he stayed silent.

You took note of Anakin’s silence and shifted the conversation to yourself. You understood how daunting it was to reveal a part of yourself that you often kept hidden away.

“Per my contract, I’m not allowed to voice my opinion on anything polarizing. I can’t speak on politics, the economy, war. It was half a shock to the public when the media announced that I would be headlining the benefit concert. On one hand, it made sense because I’m one of the more popular artists in the galaxy right now. On the other hand, people were shocked I was taking a political stance, even if indirectly,” you explained to Anakin. You grabbed a glass of the ambrosia-colored liquid that was stationed next to you and Anakin. It was bitter but had subtle notes of sweetness. You took a few sips before continuing.

“It’s unfortunate that it has to be that way. There are so many times when I wished I could’ve spoken up and used my influence for something that matters. Sometimes I feel like a coward because I see everything happening in the galaxy and I’m voiceless. The truth is I am a coward, just like every other person in this room. We have all this wealth and influence, just to do what? Let it sit in a bank account or spend it carelessly? It’s pathetic. We should be doing more.” Just because you weren’t allowed to publicly speak about certain topics didn’t mean you had no opinions on it altogether.

You took a few more sips of your drink before finishing it. You placed the glass back on the tabletop and gave Anakin a sheepish smile, “I’m rambling now, aren’t I? Sorry about that. I ramble when I get nervous. Anyway, my point is I’m glad that I took the opportunity to headline the benefit. I think my team was slightly against it at first, but after some convincing from the chancellor, they changed their minds and allowed me to do it. People like you, those who have actually witnessed the spoils of war, remind me of why it’s so important to take a stand. I don’t want to be voiceless anymore–not at such a crucial time in politics. If I can’t do the actual fighting, then I’m glad to support those who do by lending my talents. I’ll milk those suckers for all the credits they have.”

Anakin chuckled at your last sentence. He appreciated your sentiment. “Not many can say the same as you. Thank you.”

“There’s no need to thank me, Anakin. I’m just doing what any person in my position should do. I probably pissed off some people, but oh well.”

You heard your name being called from the side. Your conversation was interrupted by your friend, Cressida, a fashion designer from a small mid-rim planet who made a name for herself through her unique and stylish designs. Her skin was dyed pink (you knew her natural skin tone was a lifeless pale), and her hair was coiffed in an elaborate bun with pastel ringlets falling over and small curls sticking to the nape of her neck, appearing messy yet sensual. She came from a planet inhabited by humanoids known for their allure caused by specially produced pheromones.

“Cressida, it’s so lovely to see you! How’s your latest line going?” you faked a smile before greeting her with two kisses on either side of her cheek. Your mother always told you to play nice since playing dirty resulted in getting burned.

“Oh you know, the critics are having a heyday with it. They say I might even win my first fashion award. And who is this? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before at one of these parties. Our little singer here rarely brings anyone around anymore,” Cressida stated. Her bright green eyes landed on Anakin as if he was something she wanted to lay claim to.

“Friend” was an overstatement. You had known Cressida for around two years, but you wouldn’t consider her a close friend. She was someone you partied with to have fun–a member of your social circle but not your inner circle. You had yet to determine her trustworthiness. While Cressida had never crossed you directly, her catty remarks now and then signaled a radar in your brain.

“This is Anakin Skywalker, a Jedi assigned to watch over me for the upcoming benefit concert,” you explained.

Cressida’s eyes widened slightly. “The Anakin Skywalker? My, you’re even more handsome in person than in the holograms they project on the billboards. I almost didn’t recognize you with that serious look on your face. You shouldn’t glare so much, it’ll only age you faster.”

The fake smile on your face was beginning to hurt. Why did it annoy you so much that she found Anakin handsome? It was an objective fact that most people would agree with. You ignored the nagging feeling in your stomach. You were here to relax your mind and push away the racing thoughts of Anakin from your mind. If Cressida wanted to flirt with Anakin, so be it. It’s not like he could do anything about it, even if he wanted to. Anakin was a temporary occurrence in your life, something that would only last a short time, just to be forgotten as life moves on.

“Nice to meet you, ma’am. And you are?” Anakin responded with a short nod to show his thanks for her compliment. Anakin was used to people fawning over his looks. This wasn’t the first time a stranger, female or male, complimented him mere seconds after meeting him. The compliments did fuel his ego, but he never took them to heart as he only cared about what Padme thought. Now that Padme was gone, he indulged in the occasional compliment. Still, this compliment did not sound right coming from the pink lady in front of him. Cressida looked at Anakin like an object, a feeling he very much detested. It reminded him of the way Watto used to look at him.

“I’m Cressida Calpurnia. I know some people who would love to meet you Anakin,” Cressia announced. “Do you mind if I steal him for a few minutes? I promise I won’t be long. I believe I saw Chione somewhere upstairs waiting for you.” A sickly sweet smile appeared on Cressida’s face as she batted her white eyelashes at you. You knew most people at this party did not give a damn about the war, for they were all vapid and too consumed by the drama in their own lives to think about anything else. It was hypocritical to think, considering you were also one of them, but it was also different because most of the people in this room were nepotism babies born with silver spoons in their mouths. You knew the value of hard work and had some sense of reality, though altered over the last few years as you came into superstardom.

You knew you couldn’t refuse Cressida’s offer. What grounds did you have to refuse? A twinge of childish jealousy? You were afraid if you denied Cressida’s offer, she would think something was happening between you two. The last thing you needed was Cressida’s gossipy mouth spreading a rumor like that to your social circle. You didn’t care if it affected your reputation, but you didn’t know what Anakin’s consequences could be if the HoloNet tabloids captured a rumor like that.

“Well, I can’t speak for Anakin.” You turned towards Anakin and reassured him, “You can go ahead if you want. I think everyone would be excited to meet someone so famous (ironic considering most people in this room were famous or at least famous adjacent). I’ll just go find Chione upstairs.”

Anakin didn’t want to go either. He rather stay by your side the entire night. You were the only reason he went to the party in the first place. Anakin only used the excuse of protection to spend more time with you. You didn’t have much time together left, and Anakin knew that once this mission was done, the Council would send him to the farthest corners of the galaxy. Anakin didn’t know if he would ever be able to see you again, so he wanted to soak up your presence as much as possible. He was about to protest and explain to Cressida that he would prefer to stay with you, but she drew her talons in him before he could speak.

“I promise we don’t bite,” Cressida flirtatiously said before grabbing Anakin by his gloved arm and pulling him toward a couch filled with mutual friends. You mentally swore that you would bite her instead. Cressida’s flirtatious nature normally did not bother you, but she was slowly getting on your nerves now.

Anakin looked over his shoulder and made eye contact with you, an apologetic look gracing his face before he turned his attention to Cressida and walked away with her.

“That nerfherder bitch!” Chione exclaimed to you as you recalled the recent interaction between you and Cressida. You both looked in the refresher’s mirror as you retouched your makeup. You already downed a flute of some fizzy hooch, a warm feeling settling over your stomach as you spoke. Drinking always made you loose-lipped, which is why your best friend was currently cursing Cressida.

“You should just avoid him,” Chione shrugged. You could trust Chione with all your secrets, including your crush on the Jedi. You recounted the dilemma–how attracted you were to Anakin, but you couldn’t do anything about it because the Jedi code forbade any attachments. Your forced proximity to him made the situation worse. You couldn’t escape him over the past few rotations. Each day somehow brought the two of you closer together. It was agonizing. The Maker was cruel and taunting. How dare they throw your life into even more of a whirlwind by introducing Anakin Skywalker? Maybe if Anakin was a regular man, you would have pursued him. Unfortunately, that was not the case. Your whole world has shifted off its hinges since Anakin came into your life. You didn’t know what could fix it, except for Anakin being yours.

“What a load of bantha shit…I don’t know if I can avoid him. That’s what I’ve been telling myself to do! But every time I try, the galaxy pulls us closer. When Gido first told me that they were assigning a Jedi to me, I was scared because I thought it would only bring more trouble. But Anakin…he’s so sweet. We don’t fully know each other yet, but each interaction has brought us closer. I guess I could even consider him a friend. A very handsome friend who I think about more than I should…” you trailed off.

You intentionally left out your earlier conversation with Anakin. Chione didn’t need to know that sensitive information. A deeper part of you disagreed with Chione’s advice; you didn’t want to avoid Anakin, not when you were slowly unraveling the puzzle that he is. You wanted to know him, even if meant you would eventually break your own heart. You hadn’t felt this way about anyone in a few years, and even then, no one had ever made you the same level of intensity that Anakin did. It was intoxicating, and you wanted more of it.

“I love you, but it’s for the best. There’s no way you two could possibly be together. Don’t let yourself fall for him, only for you to be disappointed when he won’t leave the space monks for you. You’re better off finding someone else at this party.” Chione gave you a sad half-smile. You returned her smile with a small eye roll. “I wouldn’t say that if I didn’t mean it.”

Another part of you, a more conscious one, flashed blaring signs in your mind. “Stop! Turn around! Imminent danger ahead!” they said. Perhaps it was out of fear. As much as you wanted to fall head first into Anakin, you didn’t want to deal with his aftermath. When he inevitably leaves, there will be no one to pick up the pieces of your heart. You didn’t even think it was possible to fall for someone so fast. Yet here you were. The signs knew this, and so they warned you of the danger slowly encroaching on your heart–heed Chione’s words.

You knew your best friend was right, even if you didn’t want to admit it out loud. You bit your lip and nodded in agreeance.

Chione then grabbed your head and the two of you walked out of the refresher. You smiled at a few people on the way to the main room. Parties like these were the one of the only few places where you felt normal nowadays. Everyone here was someone, and if they weren’t someone then they were en route to becoming someone. There was a mutual understanding between everyone here–no fawning, no fangirling, and certainly no spilling gossip to the HoloNet. Of course, some people ignored that rule though.

“Wouldn’t that be rude of me to just leave him? I’m the only reason why he’s here. Plus, I don’t want to leave him with Cressida. She’ll dig her claws into him and never let go,” you questioned.

“I don’t know. Anakin appears to be having a great time with Cressida. He’s laughing and smiling,” Chione gestured toward the couch.

You whipped your head toward Anakin’s direction. Chione was right. Anakin was sitting there as he told the story of how he had to crashland on the planet of Mygeeto, only to be met with mastiff phalones. Every single person was focused on Anakin, their eyes never leaving his person. You saw a look of wonder on all of their faces. The feeling of jealousy washed over your body for the second time that night.

You turned away from the sight before it could enrage you anymore. With a nose turned up in the air and a dramatic hair flip, you grabbed Chione again and dragged her to another room in the apartment. If she wanted you to avoid Anakin, fine. You would do exactly that.

You dragged Chione until you reached the new room where lively, upbeat music was playing and a plethora of people danced together.

You quickly grabbed two extra flutes of hooch with your free hand and handed one to Chione. You chugged the flute down, slightly cringing at the taste, before placing it on the silver tray of a server passing by. Chione did the same before hollering, “Let’s dance!”

You shot her a flashy smile, and the two of you made your way into the crowd of energetic, sweaty bodies.

Anakin Skywalker was bored and wanted to get as far away from these people as possible. He thought one or two stories would satisfy their curiosity, but an hour and a half passed since he first sat down and no one was satisfied yet. They wanted to know everything about Anakin. How was life at the Temple? What was it like fighting in the war? Anakin understood their curiosity. He was once a curious boy, and he used to love hearing the tales from the deep space pilots that were stationed on Tatooine. It wasn’t every day that civilians encountered the Jedi, especially now that the Jedi were more off-world than on-world sometimes. It slightly boosted his ego to have an audience so enthralled by him.

At the same time, they all looked at Anakin like a commodity. They didn’t truly care about what Anakin had to say, or about the war at all. He was simply bragging points to them. Everyone would run to their friends and brag about how they met the famous Hero with No Fear after the party ended. Nothing he said would impact them. Whenever you asked Anakin questions about himself, it was different. You were genuine like you wanted to know more about him and not the persona the Republic created. Anakin was captivated by you, which is why he revealed his origins to you earlier. Not even Ahsoka learned the truth about Anakin’s past directly from Anakin–she learned it from Obi-Wan before their mission on Zygerria. Each moment between you two was marked by a saccharine tenderness. It was a type of tenderness that Anakin missed and craved all the time. Despite being a Jedi, Anakin thought of himself as a loverboy. He loved wholly and completely. And although you two were not in love, Anakin could picture himself harboring deep feelings for you. He was at the edge of the cliff, ready to fall into the deep descent of love.

Anakin couldn't escape his current company. His jaw was starting to hurt from fake smiling. As a representative of the Republic and the Jedi organization, he couldn’t exactly be rude towards them just because he wanted to escape and spend time with you. Several times throughout his time on the couch, Anakin saw you interacting with other people as you made your way through the party’s various rooms. Each time he tried to make eye contact with you, you adverted his gaze and turned your attention elsewhere.

You couldn’t possibly be avoiding Anakin, could you? Except for Anakin, it felt like you were avoiding him. You were talking to everyone else but him. Every time he wanted to reach you, he was whisked away into another story. He could have sworn that you purposely turned in the opposite direction every time you made eye contact. But maybe he was overthinking it? Did you see him differently now that you knew he used to be a slave? He felt insecure. No, that couldn’t be it. The way you spoke to him with such empathy signified to Anakin that it wouldn’t affect the way you saw him. He felt it.

Anakin felt paranoid, and he didn’t know why. Why did he care so much anyway? Anakin rationalized with himself. He was supposed to be your protector which is why he was so eager to return to your side. Not because he wanted to talk to you and get to know you more. And definitely not because you were affecting him way more than he would like to admit.

“...so it true that Jedi aren’t allowed to have sex?” asked a Twi’lek woman to Anakin’s left. Anakin’s eyes widened at the question, and a pretty blush rose to his cheeks. Before he could answer, another woman around the couch protested.

“You can’t just ask people that, Almathea! It’s rude…but do you have sex?” she asked with a seductive raise of her eyebrow.

Anakin took this moment as a sign to end the conversation and get back to you. He stood up from the couch in all his 6’2 glory. He was so statuesque, his statue and demeanor demanded attention from everyone he encountered. It was no wonder he was being held hostage by Cressida and her crew.

“My deepest apologies everyone, but I must return to my original duty. I appreciate your curiosity in the Jedi and hope we can cross paths again one day. May the Force be with you all.” Anakin then flashed one last fake smile to the audience before stepping over a few tangled legs and towards the next room. He closed his eyes and narrowed his focus to locate your person. You were still at the party, just in a different room located somewhere in the apartment’s east wing.

The Jedi made his way through the different rooms trying to find you. He passed through people dancing, people playing roulette, some were crying, and some were laughing. It was like a scene from one of Canto Bight’s deluxe, elite casinos. Snippets of gossip and whispers of amazement filtered through Anakin’s ears as he walked closer to your location.

Anakin finally stopped in another room filled with people socializing. The deep baritone notes of a saxophone mixed with a catchy melody danced around the room, shrouding it in a sultry aura. The lighting in this room was low, and the chandelier hanging from the roof was set to the lowest setting possible. If it weren’t for Anakin’s keen eyesight, he almost didn’t make out your figure. Years of dealing with Tatooine’s sandstorms made Anakin’s eyes adept at finding people and objects in otherwise difficult situations. As a child, Anakin always looked toward the colorful fabrics flying at the top of the slave quarters when an incoming sandstorm was happening. If he could find those colorful fabrics flowing in the wind, then Anakin knew he would be safe for another day. Additionally, Anakin had to have a good eye for whenever he worked on his pod racer or tinkered with droid parts.

You were in the far corner of the room, dancing with another male. His hands were on your lower back, resting very closely to your tailbone. Your body was pressed against his and your arms hung tightly around his neck. Anakin couldn’t spot the male’s face because his face was buried in the side of your neck as he whispered something into your ear. Anakin desperately wished he knew what the male was saying to you. You giggled in response. Chione was nowhere to be seen. She separated from you as she conversed with one of her other friends.

Jealousy was the common theme of the night. Earlier in the night, you were jealous at the site of Cressida oogling Anakin. Now, it was Anakin who was jealous. He was jealous that someone else held your attention while Anakin had been craving it all night. Who was this guy? Anakin wondered to himself. Did you have a boyfriend that Anakin didn’t know about? Did he read any signs wrong? Well, there weren’t too many signs to begin with. Anakin did catch one of your stray thoughts from your initial meeting in which you said he was “kriffing gorgeous.” And Anakin may have felt changes in your emotional state around him, but who was he to assume that was because of him? Like that time he was teaching you how to drive your air speeder and he had placed his hands on top of yours as a guide. He felt a spike in your force signature. Everything else consisted of lingering stares, subtle blushes, or conversation Anakin didn’t want to end.

Anakin wouldn’t have been wrong to assume you felt something for him, because you did. He just didn’t know it yet.

The male in front of you was another mutual friend who you met before at a different party. He, Rigel, was a famous musical producer who worked with some of your other musician friends from time to time. Much like Anakin, Rigel had stunning blue eyes. You ran into Rigel with Chione—who decided to play matchmaker by leaving you two alone. You offhandedly mentioned before how you thought Rigel was cute, but that was before Anakin waltzed into your life.

If you were sober, you would’ve never been caught nearly grinding on someone like this in a public place. It may have been a private party, but just one picture could spread rumors like wildfire. You were more media-trained than that. Plus, it wasn’t in your character to randomly become so intimate with another person so quickly. It looks like you took Chione’s advice a little bit too seriously. Well, that was the goal of coming to this party anyway, right?

Truth be told, you could barely understand what Rigel was whispering in your ear. It didn’t matter either way. Your brain was somewhere else, thinking of Anakin. How badly you wanted to grab him by his face and smash your lips together in front of Cressida. You wanted to run your hands through his silky curls. How did he manage to have perfect hair? What type of shampoo and conditioner did Anakin have access to on the field? After you kissed him, you would lead Anakin away from the party and into an empty bedroom where you would lay him on the bed and straddle him then—Wait! What were you thinking? The hooch was having the opposite effect on you. You drank to forget, not to remember. You opened your eyes and furiously blinked as to forget the thoughts. When you closed your eyes again, your brain automatically went to your previous dreamland. It’s almost like you could hear Anakin’s voice from right next to you.

“Excuse me,” interrupted a harsh voice.

You once again opened your eyes only to be met with the site of an annoyed Anakin. You quickly separated yourself from Rigel, who removed his face from your neck and stared unimpressively at the Jedi. Your heart skipped a beat—you weren’t expecting Anakin to appear.

“A-anakin! This is Rigel…” you sheepishly introduced the two. Karking hell, this was so embarrassing! You hated that you were caught in such a compromising position, especially from the person you were trying to avoid. You then pointed to Anakin and took a deep breath before finishing, “Rigel, this is General Anakin Skywalker.” Your body turned into an inferno as the embarrassment rose. You were too drunk for this right now.

The two men sized each other up through their stares before nodding to acknowledge each other.

“We were…um…we were just-“ you stumbled over your words as you tried to find the right ones. Anakin noticed your eyes looked glazed over and a little droopy.

Rigel stepped in to save your sentence. “We were just getting to know each other. Perhaps you can go back to telling your little Jedi stories? I heard they were very entertaining.”

“Perhaps not. Pop star, I believe it’s time we retreat back to your apartment,” Anakin responded with as much sass as possible. Anakin rather freeze alive on Hoth than allow himself to leave you with some seedy character. Anakin asserted dominance by calling you by the nickname he gave to you. He was saying to Rigel that he knew you enough to have a nickname, which was more claim than Rigel had. Not that you were anything to claim, but Anakin’s possessiveness jumped at the sight of you two. Had you told Anakin that you wanted to stay with Rigel, he would’ve left you alone. You were a grown woman after all. However, Anakin’s statement left no room for argument.

You bid Rigel goodbye, before turning to Anakin and hiccupping. You were annoyed. Was this the Maker’s way of telling you that you were meant to be with Anakin? If it was meant to be with Rigel, then it wouldn’t have been interrupted, right? Or was that just your drunk mind trying to rationalize what just happened? It was definitely the latter, you just didn’t recognize it yet.

“Let’s go,” you stated flatly. You began walking. You regretted your choice of wearing such an elaborate floor-length gown, seeing as you had to lift the dress so it wouldn’t drag on the floor. It was no issue earlier, but now that you were drunk, it was becoming a hassle. You couldn’t balance yourself and hold your dress at the same time, especially in the heels you were wearing.

“How much have you had to drink?” Anakin asked as you stumbled to the entrance of the party. Your lipstick was smudged from all the drinks you had, and in your drunken stupor, you failed to reapply it. You couldn’t count how many drinks you downed. Was it seven or ten? It didn’t even matter anymore because five was your usual stopping point.

“I don’t even know. Probably too much for my own good.” You weren’t watching where you were walking as you said that. A piece of your dress slipped under your heel causing you to almost tumble toward the floor. Anakin caught you by your waist before you could fall. It seemed Anakin had a knack for catching you. You straightened yourself off and continued walking.

“Come here for a second,” Anakin said from behind. He stood with his weight on one side, hips beckoning you toward him.

“Why? I thought it was time for us to go,” you rebuttal.

“It’s in your best interest to come back, not mine.”

You turned around and faced Anakin with a sassy look on your face. He only bent down and grabbed a hold of your ankle, “If you must know, I’m doing you the pleasure of taking off your footwear so that you can walk in comfortably. You’ve had too much to drink to walk in these without injuring yourself.” He was talking about a few moments ago when you almost faceplanted into the floor.

Instead of being grateful for Anakin’s chivalry, you decided to tease him instead. It was the only way you knew how to react to his kindness without instantaneously combusting. You were embarrassed still, but you tried to push those feelings aside. You hated dwelling on embarrassment—sometimes it was best to move on without acknowledgment.

“Why do you speak like that?” you asked with a tilt of your head.

Anakin was confused by your question, “Speak like what?”

“You know. You speak so…melodramatic. Like everything you’re saying is a declaration. Your cadence is so fancy. Why If I didn’t know you were a Jedi, I would mistake you for a wealthy socialite,” you giggled. “It’s quite funny actually. You belong on the Opera stage, ready to declare to the entirety of Coruscant. You would be the Hero of the play.”

Anakin looked at you with a deadpan stare. “Do I really speak like that?” It’s something he had never noticed before. Obi-Wan’s mannerisms must’ve rubbed off on Anakin more than he noticed. As you were speaking, Anakin was undoing the straps of your heels. “Well, If I’m the hero, then you must be the damsel in distress.”

You cleared your throat and began mimicking Anakin again, “I do suppose that you speak like that. Why I go by Anakin Skywalker, and I’m a Jedi Knight. I’ve been on many perilous journeys, but the most perilous of them all has been to watch you. No battle droid or distant planet could compare to the chaos of handling an intergalactic singer.” You tried replicating the huskiness and cadence of Anakin’s voice. Instead, it came out sounding like you were recovering from a nasty cough. You poked fun at yourself too.

Anakin laughed at your brazen attempt to make fun of him. He dropped your ankle and grabbed your heels. They hung by their straps as his fingers gripped them with care.

“Very funny. Are you sure you weren’t written by a playwright? You should be more comfortable now that we’ve removed these atrocious heels. You should be able to walk without any hassle now.” You didn’t get a chance to say thank you to Anakin as he started walking toward the entrance.

You lingered behind for a second, taking in the moment. Anakin was too sweet. It was an action so simple yet it had your heart bursting all the same.

Anakin turned around when he felt you weren’t next to him. “Where are you going, pop star?”

You sent Anakin a small smile before responding, “Sorry, I’m coming.” You began walking to him. The two of you exited the party and walked toward the landing bay, where your airspeeder was patiently waiting for you.

When you and Anakin got home, it was dark. The apartment lights were off. The only light that filtered through were the lights from Coruscant’s skyline. A delicate moonlight washed over the apartment, creating a serene and safe atmosphere.

You felt exhausted. The effects of the alcohol wore down on the way home, and you were mostly silent. Chinone left you a message stating she got home safely, so you had nothing to worry about.

You recalled tonight’s events as you rested your eyes. From the intimate moment with Anakin at the start of the party, your scathing feelings toward Cressida, to Chione telling you to forget Anakin, and then being caught with another male by Anakin. Your head was all over the place, and the fast pace of the airspeeder did not help. You would have a lot to think about in the morning. You just wanted to get home for now and drift into Lalaland.

The speeder came to a slow halt as Anakin lowered the vehicle onto your landing platform. He helped you out of the speeder and the two of you went inside your apartment. This night completely drained you and you wanted nothing more than to go to sleep.

Before retreating to your room, you wanted to say one more thing to Anakin.

“Anakin? I just wanted to give you my thanks—not only for coming to the party with me but for opening up and not letting me go home with Rigel. And for the heels,” you confessed

“It was no issue. That’s what my job is for—ensuring your comfort and protection for the time being.”

“Still…thank you. When you first came here, I was scared that it would bring trouble, but you’ve been nothing but helpful and kind. Your mother raised you well.”

In one final act, you leaned and placed a gentle kiss on Anakin’s cheek. You let your lips linger for a moment before separating. You would tell yourself it was the last remaining bits of alcohol in your system tomorrow, but you knew better than that. It was an intentional act you hoped could convey your feelings when you could verbally not.

i saw someone on tiktok say they saw jackson wang host a party in a harry potter fanfic and somelse commented they made jackson wang a senator in their star wars fanfic so i thought i would do the same...iykyk

taglist: @angie2274 @bunnylovesani @0709fullofstars @js-favnanadoongi @payton-dixonreader @attheairportbar @doplit

lmk if you want to be added to the taglist!

#kendra's works !!!#anakin skywalker #anakin fanfiction #anakin x reader #anakin skywalkwer x reader #anakin skywalker x you #anakin x you #star wars fandom #star wars #star wars fanfiction #hayden christensen #tcw anakin #the clone wars #darth vader #darth vader x reader #darth vader x you

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angelsarewatching · 2 years

Text

KÖNIG Headcanons (NSFW at the end)

Born in Austria, but moved to Germany when he was like, seven.

Suffers from the most severe amount of anxiety you've ever seen. Like. Not the cutesy, blush, "imscawedtopresentinfrontofclass" thing you'd see on a cute anime girl. Nope. This man is a severe

WRECK.

He is absolutely NOT pure but he's like. The awkwardest bitch to ever exist. Why. Why. Who gave you anxiety my love.

Not cinnamon roll either, these are skilled, deadly operators we're talking about.

Gets flustered for no reason ever and gets the most random anxiety attacks for what he calls the "smallest" things ever.

His brain goes FULL alert and alarm mode when there's a very small problem that will not affect his life at all and when there's an actual BIG problem in place, like life-ending missiles?

His brain takes a sip of vodka and then goes like "yea it be like that sometimes"

Bullied in grade school, high school, not college. He enlisted into the army when he found out being built like a mountain also meant that it was harder to knock you down. In combat, I mean. But it's easier to knock him down mentally..

would have actually went to college if not for his crippling anxiety kicking him in the gut every time he tried to go out for a walk. someone passes him by and it's immediately "shit shit shit shit shit shit shit they hate me i'm actually so fucking worthless like-" i wish i was exaggerating but no. he was just really fucked over mentally as a kid.

grew up being bullied like HELL because of how tall he was. like. it wasn't normal. it wasn't even bullying it was just some people laughing at him from time to time about how large he was. this actually hurt him severely and sometimes refused to go out and if he was forced to. he would cry

severely sensitive about his face. he looks Fine. not attractive or ugly but. just a regular german guy. but with very sad eyes. for some reason.

seems. apologetic. his resting face is a man wanting to apologize.

definitely suffered from depression for a few years in his high school days. just not wanting to go to school and it being difficult for him to even get out of bed.

he also suffers from extreme self-esteem issues. he hates his face. Very much. has tried to cut it on Very bad days. a few scars here and there but no scarring that's too extensive.

prone to self harming. due to overthinking and extensive blaming and self-deprecating thoughts.

not as bad as ghost but. still Very bad

on a scale of 1 to 10 on how much of a pathetic wreck of a man he is? he's a solid 20.

wears a mask because he is Sensitive. very. he hates his face, he hates mirror, he hates his reflection. very very thankful for his headgear and how it hides his face because he hates his face so so much

cries a lot too. will just break out crying sometimes when he pent up Too much emotion and silent tears will come out of his eyes. but you won't see it. because it's hidden

yeah he literally thinks Everyone hates him just at first glance. he tries not to though. he tries to just focus on the job but he can't help but tremble sometimes.

you'll catch him shaking or stammering on his words too much and he'll just. ignore it if you point it out. and then slam his head on a desk inside his room when you're out of earshot

super critical of himself and his actions. TOO critical.

Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. Need I say more.

sometimes he just. can't help it. but. suddenly he will feel like his life TRULY is on the line if he doesn't flick the light switch twenty times and blink his eyes five times so that he's safe and all his loved ones are safe and-

too clean of a room. too clean. no dust anywhere. reorganizes four times a day. indecisive. Cannot be trusted to make decisions. absolutely not.

he's OK in the battlefield but outside of fighting and shooting......... he's pathetic.

oh damn he's HORRIBLE at bed. this man's dick game would've been rock bottom if not for his massive -

yeah of course it's massive. why wouldn't it be. he's embarrassed of it because it hangs weirdly if he doesn't wear the tight enough boxers

#könig call of duty #könig #y'all i made it FIRST #without even his full dossier..

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reanbowful · 1 year

Text

“that’s literally me”

if you were talking about your crush and they realise it was them

(gerard, ben, alex, jake, donald, wolf)

gerard jin / jin gayool

You were at his house, playing truth or dare on his phone.

When it got your turn, the golden question popped up.

Truth: Describe your crush

You look up at Gerard with a teasing smile.

“Well. My crush is a person you know well. He’s with me almost everyday.”

Gerard grinned, pulling you onto his lap.

“Oh really?”

You nodded.

“He has the most beautiful smile. And he used to be in a band too!”

Gerard raised his eyebrows, making the both of you chuckle.

“He does sound like a pretty cool guy.“

“That’s because he is! And not just pretty cool, he’s very cool. Remember that.”

You brushed his bangs away to reveal the scar on his left eye. Tracing the red skin with the tip of your fingers.

“Don’t you think your lucky guy would be jealous if he finds out that you’re sitting on my lap right now?”

You smiled, inching your face closer to him.

“You know what, I don’t think he minds at all.”

With that, he connected his lip to yours. The both of you feeling the smile tugging on each of your lips as you embraced each other in the dim lights of his room.

ben park / park humin

Okay look. Ben is a himbo, but he’s not that stupid.

The two of you were walking down the street together playing some dumb game.

Catch the shadow basically. But if you catch the other person’s shadow, you can ask them one question. And if they cannot answer, they have to buy the two of you ice cream.

“Ha! I caught you!”

Clicking your tongue, you gave up and turned to him.

“Alright, spill it.”

“Hihi, who do you have a crush on?”

You looked at him incredulously. This grown dude was giggling and wiggling his brows like he’s some elementary school kid who heard the word underwear for the first time.

“Seriously? Fine. I’ll describe him to you. This person, goes to Eunjang. And you know him.”

“Ooh. Interesting-“

“Shh. I’m not done. So, this person. He’s.. strong. Like super strong, like you wouldn’t even believe it strong. He’s like a superhero. He has a nice smile and has a surprisingly connoisseur palate. He also has the most beautiful sun-kissed skin I have ever seen.”

Ben is now looking at you with intent, a slightly nervous gulp could be seen from where you stand.

“I like his- no I love how he’s always there for his friends. And the fact that he is liked by everyone gives me a warm feeling in my chest. He also has a child-like wonder to his eyes that I want to protect forever-”

Feeling a heavy hand drop on your shoulder, you stopped your current rambling to see a frowning Ben at your side.

“Wait- Uh not to be a narcissist, but the way you’re explaining about this guy makes it sound like you’re literally describing me?”

Oh how you wanted to punch him lovingly in the face.

“It is you.”

“IT IS?!”

alex go / go hyuntak

Alex was furious. And not to mention super confused.

He thought the two of you had something together!

Alex had overheard the girls talking at your part-time job about your supposed “crush”.

How had he not realise it sooner! Figures he was just another ‘great’ friend of yours.

“Hey, Alex!”

“Oh. it’s you.”

You had just finished your shift and headed straight to his gym with two cups of coffee in your hands.

Setting them down, you took your backpack off and tossed them over on the corner.

“I brought you some coffee.”

Your smile melts his heart a little bit. But then he remembers that you already have a pretty little “crush”. So, he just turned his head and murmured

“Why didn’t you just give it to your crush? I’m sure HE would appreciate it.”

You turned to him, baffled.

But, honestly a sulky Alex is kind of amusing to see, so a small laughter cracked out of you.

“Where did you heard that from?”

“Oh it doesn’t matter. Good for you though, I’m sure he’s such a great guy.”

You hummed to yourself.

“Yeah, he kinda is actually.”

Alex let out a choked sound when he whipped his head to face you with the most ‘I thought what we had was special’ expression, that for a second there you were genuinely worried that he was gonna start crying.

“Alex-”

“No, I mean it. I’m sure you’d pick someone worthy enough, so let’s hear it. What’s so great about this guy?”

He just can’t figure it out can he.

You sighed.

“To name a few, he’s the sweetest person I know. He has a big dream, and he’s a hardworking person. I love his eyes, his smile, and his cute little red nose.”

“Huh? What do you- OW!”

Alex’s eyes widened when you came to pinch the bridge of his nose hard.

Ah.. that’s definitely gonna be red- eh?

And only then he realised. Darting his eyes up at you as you look down onto him with a satisfied smile on your face.

“Figured it out yet?”

Face hot and burning now, remembering just how ridiculous he had acted.

jake ji / ji hakho

“Jake, come take a picture with me.”

No questions asked, Jake came and posed for the camera.

“What’s it for?”

“Uh nothing! Just wanted to get back at someone, you know.”

It was in fact, not nothing. The truth is that you have been compiling pictures of both you and Jake to keep as a substitute. It looks a lot like you guys are dating from those pics, and you like looking at them to cheer yourself up during the bad days. Not that anyone has to know.

“Ooh~ Is it a new guy? Do I know him?”

“Tsk. Mind your own business.”

“Aww come on, we’re friends aren’t we? Besides I gotta make sure he’s good for you! Call it a guy’s instinct~”

That’s not the problem dumbass! But,

You really can’t say no to him can you.

“It’s someone I like.”

“Whew! Let’s hear more about this lucky guy then!”

Gosh if only he knows. (ITS YOU MANN)

You shifted in your seat, tucking a loose strand behind your ear as you start, warily watching his every move.

“I met him 3 years ago. He never really noticed me, he was one of the cool kids. All the girls liked him so it wasn’t really a surprise that I joined in. Eventually he came up to talk to me and we became friends, and he’s such a sweetheart but he’s just so oblivious that it’s making me go crazy!”

Jake looked at you with an unreadable expression on his face. Your heart thumped with anticipation.

“Damn.. that must be hard. But if it’s you, I’m sure it will work out!”

You felt your heart sink as he tapped you on your shoulder, mouthing a ‘good luck’ before leaving the classroom.

It is what it is you guess.

Meanwhile in Jake’s mind:

man don’t say anything man, if it’s not actually you it’s gonna be sooo damn awkward

donald na / na baekjin

This scenario with Donald would be super straightforward.

It would be completely out of the blue as well.

He was doing some paperworks in his office when you suddenly barged in.

“Donald, I would like to inform you about my crush.”

If he likes you a lot, (which he probably does if he lets you just barge into his office unannounced) he will put down everything aside and give you all of his attention.

“Go ahead then.”

It’s honestly comical how concerned you are about such an innocuous thing.

“I don’t know when it started, but it’s been getting worse. Initially I thought that I might’ve contacted some kind of disease and went to the nearby clinic but they hadn’t found anything wrong with me. So then I went to work as usual, where I then meet you! A-and my heart did this weird jumping thing!”

“So, you’re basically saying that you have a crush.. on me?”

The way you look genuinely exasperated, running a hand through your hair had Donald trying to suppress a grin.

“I have come to that conclusion. That, yes. I’m afraid so.”

“You know you don’t have to be embarrassed about it, right? It’s completely normal to get nervous when you see an attractive man.”

“Do you find yourself attractive?”

“I mean not necessarily, but clearly you do.”

You groaned and sat yourself down on one of the armchairs Donald keep in his office, clearly in distress at this newfound feeling you just discovered.

Donald then stood up from his seat and walked over to kneel himself in front of you.

“Now let me tell you about my crush.”

wolf keum / keum seongje

It was something that Wolf overheard by accident.

He had wanted to return your calculator, walking up the second floor. Hwangmo offered to return it for him, but he wants to get some interaction with you, you know.

He couldn’t care less on what your classmates are discussing, about to enter the room when he heard some interesting statements.

“… no, but I do have it. Someone I like.”

Well well well. Looks like Wolf’s staying outside for now.

“OMG OMG WHO?”

He could hear you giggling over the series of table smacking.

“Just.. look I can’t tell you guys who it is exactly. But, I’ll tell you this. Well, um. He has a deep voice, and.. he’s younger than us. Oh and he wears glasses. There! I’ll reveal that much.”

Now would you look at that. A smirk curled on Wolf’s lips right as the words roll off of your tongue.

Oh what is he gonna do with you.

“What?? That could be anyone-”

“Noona, I came to return this.”

Yes. Wolf decided that he wants you to suffer for the rest of the day.

The purple haired demon spawn could feel his soul smile when he sees the horrified looks of everyone in your class as they connected the dots together; deep voice (checked), younger (checked), glasses (checked).

“N-no way. ITS WOLF KEUM?!”

“OKAY! You know what, it’s nearly due time for P.E. Don’t forget to change guys, I’m also gonna go.”

You ever panicked so hard that your body moved on autopilot and somehow does everything perfectly? This is how you are right now.

Heart thumping fast in your chest, you made your way into the ladies changing room before a certain purple haired sadist closed the door back from behind you.

“Noona, aren’t you curious about who I like?”

This boy is gonna be the death of you for sure.

[a/n] Originally there was supposed to be Jimmy too. But I’m way too tired and can’t spend too much time on one topic so.. I’m sorry to all the Jimmy stans I failed to feed you.

#weak hero class 1 #weak hero x reader #weak hero manhwa #weak hero webtoon #gerard jin #ben park #wolf keum x reader #wolf keum #donald na #alex go #jake ji #jimmy bae

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cr0cutacr0cuta · 1 year

Text

Loving Darius Deamonne: A LONG tumblr essay about my favorite character from The Owl House, and why I think his potential was missed but hinted at.

Hey heres an edit: forgot that Gus existed, my bad. :sob: I love him too just not as much.

Darius Deamonne is a great character and you should love him too and here's why.

It goes beyond me just loving him for being black and pretty obviously gay (at least some sort of mlm) in my eyes. Which is good! He's black and somewhat feminine and it's never played for laughs. He's still treated like a threat and like a very powerful and influential person. Which I wholeheartedly appreciate it.

Which is the first thing I wanna touch on I guess?

I also want to say that some of this is based off of interviews that Dana Terrace has done for the show, as well as piecing theories together based on the information we DO know about Darius.

And no I won't proofread this because I have anxiety about re-reading anything I write, so sorry for the typos in advanced. :,)

I was going to do this in parts but everything is bleeding together so much that I can't. I'll sum up all the most important things in bullet points at the end!

This will probably be my shortest section here. Darius is very reminiscent of effeminate Disney Villains such as Scar or Gaston. He's very into fashion and self pampering. He even has a menacing sounding French/Greek roots last name that DOES invoke demons. Even if that's not the true meaning behind the name, but we'll get back to that later in this section.

Darius is first hinted at in Season 1 Episode 13, "The First Day". His simplified visage appearing on the Abomination Coven banner.

Man, look at how sinister and mysterious they made him look. He also appears to MAYBE be wearing a different outfit than he does in the rest of the series proper. There's not a lot to say or analyze here, I just think his banner is super neat.

The second time we see Darius is in the flashback segment of "Young Blood, Old Souls". We see his younger design first before we even get a glimpse of his present one. I just really like that detail and the implication that Darius was a character that was very heavily on the writer's mind from the jump.

Now his real, first proper appearance is very wild. Very important. I don't know too much about cinematography and framing, but I do know a little bit of the basics.

Let's look at his first true appearance in Season 2 Episode 6, "Hunting Pailsmen".

We do see his shadow in the shot before this, but I just want to point out that Darius is straight up the first coven head we see in the introduction to all of them. (We do see Mason in an earlier episode but it was in a more comedic role and he doesn't speak.)

This framing putting Darius front and center doesn't stop here.

In the first proper serious group shot of the coven heads, Darius is in the middle. Firstly, the perspective frames Darius as the biggest person in the shot. Maybe besides Hettie, but she's also pretty tall and scaled down because of the perspective. He's also the one in the center of the shot, in the center of some of the most powerful people and most influental people in the isles.

This does imply importance.

It even goes further in the next shot.

Darius is at the side here, sure. But he's put next to Mason who probably has the plainest design out of all the coven heads. (I'm sure he's fine.) But it almost feels like he was put next to Darius to make Darius' framing look more important. With the rest of the more uniquely designed coven heads smaller, at the back, and rendered in less color because of the light from the cauldron (?) in the shot.

Even in the storyboard, Darius seems ot have a bit more detail than everyone else. And if not that, his expression is more clear and intense than the other's.

This makes me wonder how important Darius was to the narrative before the show got canceled. Like yes, Raine ended up being the most important person here in the end. Rightfully so. I still just wondered what was there intention with the compositions of these scenes. Was Darius meant to be more important, or was this a misdirect?

He's in such a unique spot in the story, that I doubt it was unintentional. Darius was supposed to be explored much more according to Dana.

Snippet of the interview from TV Tropes.

So we know Darius was supposed to be explored more as a character in a hypothetical, fully realized season 3. I really would have done anything to see that, honestly.

That's all I have to really say for this section. I'm just bummed that all this foreshadowing and planning was destroyed because of Disney's mismanagement of the show. It also sucks that the main black character we see in the show is one of the biggest causalities from it. Moving on.

So back to Darius being like renaissance era Disney villains...He's vain, he's powerful, and quite possibly...He's manipulative. Mainly, it seems, towards the other coven heads.

Remember what Hunter says in "Any Sport in a Storm" about the coven heads...

This is very much speculation on my part. But I think Darius has been in the rebellion game for a while. I can't say he's a direct leader and I can't say he has an entire group behind him until Raine comes along. But I wouldn't put it above him to use mind games to help slow Belos' progress. I think Darius may have been purposely sowing discourse between the other coven heads.

Mind you, a lot of them are already conniving on their own. But I don't put it past him to stoke the flames to cause chaos for Belos' plans.

This does beg the question, how long has Darius been at this? How long has he been TRYING to dismantle the Emperor's hold on the Isles?

Again, speculation warning, but I do think Darius may have been at least skeptical of Belos and looking into what he was doing since his mentor died.

Imagine, your mentor is the leader of the Emperor's Coven. The Emperor's personal right hand man. Then he just...dies one day. And since Belos says that all the previous guards had in fact, betrayed him, what's to say that the previous Golden Guard didn't tell Darius he was going to betray Belos?

Like yes, he could have not told Darius in an attempt to protect him. Darius obviously meant a lot to him and he obviously meant a lot to Darius. Though I also think that he would want to save Darius and everyone else. And if he couldn't, he would want Darius to save himself and everyone else. I can't prove that Darius was told anything, but I wouldn't be surprised.

So Darius may have just...Straight up been in the trenches for years at this point. He does say that he rebelled because he found "The Day of Unity suspicious"...But Darius has exaggerated on screen before. He's also been straight up lying to a lot of peers for possibly years. He can be an unreliable narrator here.

This also means he is a stereotypical renaissance villain turned on it's head. He looks very evil, but my mans is just semi goth, loves fashion, and is an anarchist. He's not a villain, just an anti-hero.

With that said, let's talk about his relationship with Hunter, which seems to be pretty complicated.

Darius starts out seemingly looking at Hunter with distain. I think about what Dana says about Darius' main motivations not only being to help people, but to care about the ones that he loves. The implications that Darius' main driving force is love, not only for people personally in his life, but for his community, the people of the isles, seems pretty significant.

I think love maybe Darius' main, true character trait.

Love, especially when it ties into grief, can really make people lash out. Not everyone reacts this way, but we've already established that Darius can be pretty full of wrath when he wants to be.

To me it's very clear that Darius is projecting the anger he feels from his grief onto Hunter. Which yes, is messed up. There's no excuse for it. He eventually seems to grow and change at least, and that's good.

I can definitely see WHY he would feel the way he does towards Hunter at first though. Your mentor is murdered one day and you get little explanation, he also may have hinted at something deeper and darker happening within the leadership of your community before he does. Then he's replaced by some kid that, probably to you, came out of nowhere. He's the emperor's nephew. Didn't his family die a long time ago? Did his mentor have a child that he didn't even mention?

Which does beg the question...Does Darius know that Hunter is a grimwalker? I don't know? I don't think so. I think he's very suspicious of the whole situation at the very least. You're also frustrated with the kid about being a follower, about not looking at the bigger picture, about just being a soldier and not his own person. Because you're sure that being a follower, being subservient, is what lost your mentor his life.

Darius definitely could have handled this better. He could have not projected his grief onto Hunter. He could have been more open about what he wanted him to do. He could have told him to go be a kid and make friends. But he let his grief get in the way of it all. He's flawed, and that's relatable.

Seeing Hunter make friends and show some sort of autonomy seemingly broke him from seeing Hunter as just a replacement. He started seeing Hunter as his own person as Hunter did. I think that's a very important step in their growth together. I find that super interesting and very poetic.

There's also the fact that Darius probably couldn't tell Hunter about the scope of everything because he wanted to protect him from it all. I don't think Darius ever wanted Hunter to get hurt. Even if he was cruel to him initially. He was so upset in "Hollow Mind" that he shoves Raine out of the way when hears about Hunter being stuck in Belos' mind.

He also may have been scared of what Hunter would see if he had known that the Emperor had something to do with his mentor's death.

Also I guess I should mention it here because of it all tying into Darius being part of the rebellion but...There's a scene in "Eda's Requiem" where Darius is more angry about his clothes getting messed up than the fact that Raine has committed treason...Which is great foreshadowing, actually. I love the fact that Eberwolf has to remind him of the treason part so their cover doesn't get blown, probably.

Let's keep the ball rolling on the most important relationships in Darius' life.

We've covered Hunter and his mentor, so let's move onto Eberwolf.

Eberwolf is pretty heavily implied to be like a sibling to Darius. There's a lot of unexplored territory here and it makes me really sad. So this'll probably be the most sparsely talked about relationship here despite the fact that Darius and Eberwolf spend almost all of their screen time together.

I think the thing I want to point out was that Darius was not willing to let Eberwolf harmed or possibly killed during their fight with other coven heads on the day of unity. I feel like this may elude to a few things.

Darius cannot bare to lose someone in his life again. Or can't bare to see it, possibly again. He backs off immediately and the fear in his eyes is real.

Which shout out the animators for making that very apparent.

It's also very apparent in Eberwolf's expression as well. The expressions just say so much and tell so much of the story between the two that we don't get to see. We get shown and not told...Even if we weren't shown in a more direct way.

Saw this in another post but the scenes following where Eberwolf and Darius appear, also imply pretty heavily that when the spell started working, Eberwolf wanted to run to Darius. But he was in too much pain himself to make it over to him.

Darius knew they were all going to die if he didn't do anything but he chose not to anyway because the pain of losing Eberwolf right in front of him in such a terrible way stopped him. Darius let his fear of loss of someone he really cared about potential damn everyone on the isles. Another flaw, but another important note to tack onto his character.

Like yes, he would have saved everyone else but he probably would have caused him more heartache that he couldn't handle. He'd already been through a lot losing his mentor (and his best friend/possible love interest, but oh we will get to you, Alador Blight.), and this kind of implies that he probably couldn't do it again.

Though Darius acts smart and kind of logical, he's very driven by his emotions, his love and grief in particular, seemingly.

That being said, let's move on from Eberwolf. We're going to skip the obvious for now, and go onto why Darius is probably the best coven head or at least in the running next to Raine.

I'd like to let you all know that the abomination coven is pretty consistently stacked. Not only do they have Principal Bump, who has been shown to be a powerful which in his own right from his debut episode, but Alador, who's Darius' rival yes...But it's pretty lightly implied that Darius and Alador had shared their innovations and interests in abominations when they were younger. Alador probably knows some of what he knows from Darius. Though you could probably say the same the other way around, Alador didn't end up becoming the coven head. Darius is obviously the more skilled abomination user of the two.

Then you have up and coming prospects like Amity who's consistently been shown to be pretty powerful.

Willow even says in "I Was A Teenager Abomination":

"There are better opportunities on this track." when referring to the abomination tract at school.

Now don't get me wrong, coven system = bad. But I don't think the sense of community the coven system provides for witches is ALL bad.

I think the implication here, though subtle, is that Darius is fostering probably the most powerful coven in the entire system.

He's investing and nurturing new prospects. He's providing opportunities for witches in his coven that other covens are not. Darius truly cares about his community. He truly cares about his craft and furthering it through communal growth. He even wrote a book to show his knowledge with the people of the isles.

Darius has been shown to be on of the few characters who can change his form. He does this at will (seemingly) without the help of a curse of any kind. Darius is just powerful enough to change into an abomination monster and he's the only character who can do it. Which is impressive considering how stacked the rest of the abomination users in the show are.

Even Alador has made pretty rad innovations to the craft, even if Darius doesn't completely agree with them.

I also want to say that this points to Darius maybe being a engineer like Alador...but to contrast Alador being a mechanical one he's a genetic engineer, and that might be what's going on with his form. But that's again, pure speculation just from his seemingly opposite theming to Alador.

So it seems like Darius is also a good leader. One with a sense of duty and nurturing towards his community.

Now last but not least...

Let's fucking talk about.

AlaDarius.

Man I have so much to fucking say about these two HOLY SHIT.

They are literally only on screen together like 4 times and it's in the epilogue but just the implications we get from the little breadcrumbs we do have...Oh man.

So Darius and Alador were friends. We can prove that. They seemed to be on good teams in "Thems the Breaks, Kid." Alador talking to Darius and laughing once he flicks some abomination goo onto his face. With Odalia observing, unfortunately.

There's a lot that can be inferred by this. I don't think Odalia was always like she is now. But power, and maybe the prospect of it, corrupts. There's a lot that could have happened between these three.

Some theories:

It's possible that Odalia didn't have as many prospects as Darius or Alador coming up. Which might be why she pursued Alador in the first place. Alador's family has money, Odalia has a manipulative business sense, Alador is socially awkward and probably can't conduct business as well so that maybe got her in good with his family.

Maybe she even manipulated Alador into loving her over Darius by whispering lies in his ears and fueling the rivalry between them. Maybe she got Alador to push Darius away.

There's also the prospect that Alador's marriage to Odalia was arranged for whatever reason. Maybe his parents also told him to push Darius away because of that because they knew Alador and Darius were catching feelings for each other. Alador could have thought that this was normal and had a sense of duty to his family that he put over his love for Darius.

This could also be why he was okay with Odalia telling Amity to cut ties with Willow. Alador may have been forced to do the exact same thing.

And we've already established that when Darius cares about someone, he cares about them very hard. He loves and he loves deep. He already lashed out at Hunter because he loved his mentor so deeply, so why wouldn't he lash out at Alador for essentially abandoning him?

I think it's very clear that Darius loved Alador. Maybe he still does after all these years considering how he acted in the epilogue.

I mean look at him.

He shakes Alador in excitement and pride and pulls away all embarrassed. Pretending he still doesn't have feelings. He even like, touches his chest it's insane and insanely cute. Alador not knowing how to feel is also funny because he probably thinks Darius had either let go of his feelings or he's just surprised that he'd show him any kind of affection after everything.

I also have a theory that Darius possibly been wanting to reconnect with Alador for years. I think the rebellion and wanting to protect Alador from possibly getting threatened if he himself got caught might be a reason. It also might be anxiety. Maybe he's scared Alador might find a reason to abandon him again. Maybe he's actually actively traumatized by that prospect and he has work through it (god I wish this show had more time). Maybe it's all habit at this point too. He's just used to pushing Alador away at this point. Hell, maybe he even thinks that Alador should just be focusing on his children considering their mother is no longer in the picture and they're all healing as a family and he feels like that has nothing to do with him.

There's a lot of speculation.

I'm willing to bet SOME of this is right.

I also don't think this should be downplayed considering that Darius never mentions Odalia when seeing the abomaton in "Eda's Requiem." He didn't have to say anything at all but he's so hurt and so petty about being hurt by Alador SPECIFICALLY that he tells Kikimora to tell him that he's a hack.

There's something going on and I want to know what it is and I'm 80% sure that it's romantic.

I also want to also point out that we see Alador and Darius standing together in the very last shot of the show.

Like they do genuinely look like a family unite here and I truly appreciate it. It might take some time but but that's alright. I think they can figure it out. I think they genuinely can mend their relationship with each other since Darius was able to mend his with Hunter and Alador with his children.

They're both so flawed and had to grow in similar aspects. They're both so different but have these little bridges that truly connect them. Their love for abominations. How they both weren't the best father figures at first but learned to be better for their kids.

There's a lot of undertones with this relationship I truly enjoy.

NOW LET'S TALK ABOUT HIS DESIGN.

I've been writing this essay for over 3 hours so I'm going to try to make this fast.

I won't go into how Darius is very effeminate Disney villain again, so I'll jump straight into his color palette.

Darius has 5 basic colors/shades in his design.

Black: Black invokes a few things. They all kind of pertain to Darius. Black can mean mystery. His past is very mysterious. He's basically a spy, which are mysterious. Black can also mean elegance and power. He loves fancy clothes and is very powerful.

Purple: Darius has a few shades of purple on him. This can be a nod to his craft as the abomination coven head. Purple also invokes regality which might be a nod to his influence in the witch community at large. Though not a ruler, he does have a presence that does seem almost like royalty. It's also the color of imagination. The abominations are somewhat like living sculptures, like art, eluding to imagination. He also sews, probably making his own outfits, which is a very creative endeavor. Purple also invokes compassion, enlightenment, and encouragement. It's also attached to those who are emotional and sensitive and sometimes immature.

Green: Green is a fantastic contrast to purple. I'm guessing this is why Darius' eyes were changed from purple to green. It made more sense with his design and gave it a bit more pop. While green is the color of envy (possibly eluding to his possibly jealousy of Odalia and Alador's relationship), it's also the color of judgement (again, looking at Alador) and materialism (my man loves his clothes). The positive side to this is green representing healing and growth as well. They represent things that Darius needs to let go and things that he actually needs.

Gold: Gold represents luxury, success, triumph, and loyalty. I feel like that's all pretty self explanatory considering all I've discussed so far. Darius studied hard under the olden guard to be successful, he triumphant and became the coven head, he's loyal to everyone he loves and his community. And he does enjoy a bit of luxury, too. :)

White: White actually means a lot of things. The ones I think pertain to Darius most are actually cleanliness, coldness, and purity believe it or not. Obviously he likes to be clean. Coldness because of how distant he starts towards Hunter, and how he maybe pushing away certain people because he doesn't want them getting hurt if he gets found out in the rebellion. This cold also be why his gloves are white. They're a symbol of his coldness over his hands. His coldness keeps him from touching other's, literally. It keeps him distant. Now purity maybe the surprising one here, but it's most so about his intentions, and his sense of duty, and his need to protect. Those things all come from a pure place, a pure good. Even if he himself isn't pure good. It's still in him. Also shout out to perfection as a meaning too but it's not confirmed but he seems like the type who would be a perfectionist.

Overall, his palette actually tells you everything you need to know about him. His silhouette is also pretty memorable. You can look at just that and know, yeah THAT'S Darius Deamonne. You can also tell little things about him from his silhouette through his posture and shapes of his clothes.

I'll also briefly mention his name.

Darius is a name of Persian/Greek/Latin Origin. It means "possessing goodness". And man that feels like a dead giveaway for him not being a bad guy once I type it now. The name can also mean "rich/king like" which...TRUE. And also it can mean "he who holds firm to good". Which is also true. It's also a very popular name among Black folks in the US.

Deamonne is... A little more complicated. It's both French and Greek oddly enough. There's not a lot about this name out there, honestly. Usually when you look it up on google most of the results pertain to well...Darius himself.

Deamonne might be a reference to the word daemon, itself a previous form of the word "demon"...But Daemons themselves are pretty different. The Greek meaning of the word seems to be "A divinity who or supernatural being of a nature between gods and humans." I wonder if MAYBE it's a nod to his status of being able to transform into abomination matter, making him maybe a hybrid or somewhere between being a witch or abomination? Who knows? Hard to say with this one.

I guess that's it! Maybe I'll reblog with an update if I can think of more. But this is my genuine exploration of why Darius means so much to me and why he deserved way better than he got.

These are all breadcrumbs really, and that's what makes his story so, so alluring. Because if they could tell this much with this little, I wonder what the could have showed us if he had even just a full episode to himself.

Here's the tl;dr with all the important points:

Darius probably had a bigger part to play in the Owl House's plot that got cut because of it's cancelation.

Darius' main driving emotion and motivation seems to be love.

Darius may have been planning to betray Belos for longer than we thought.

Darius is probably very scared of losing someone he loves again.

Darius come off as a little cold and distant because of those fears.

He'd lay down his life for people he loves.

He might be the best coven head in terms in leadership.

His color scheme and name lay out his character pretty bare.

I'm sure there's more here but thanks for reading. Sorry this ran long. I actually probably forgot some things in the summery above because I've been writing this for hours.

Have a good day and remember:

I'd give my soul and all my money for a Darius Deamonne spin off.

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