#it's been years - does anyone remember that vine?

[eddiernunson]

Nice to Meet You, Where You Been? | Eddie Munson x f!Reader | 18+

Thank you to @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you for editing, you're the best!

Summary: your college roommate takes you to the annual Harrington Halloween Party, where you expect to do nothing but get drunk and dance for a night. That was...until you turn around to the person dancing against you to Eddie fucking Munson.

Warnings: strangers to lovers, praise/degradation, hook-up at a party, daddy kink, creampie, no protection, slow ish build up, size kink? maybe?, hooking up under the influence

I had a whole ass plan to write for KinkTober but executive dysfunction took over. Hopefully this makes up for it...maybe.

I have another Halloween themed fic from last year, EddiexReader with Steve if anyone is interested

Word Count: 6.1k

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You sit in the backseat of your roommate’s boyfriend’s beater, the music bumping through the stereo as you make your way to what is supposedly the biggest Halloween party of every year. Your roommate spent the beginning of your fall semester hyping up this party as the best place to be on a Halloween night. Her insistence was charming, and you were looking for an excuse to get drunk. So, now you are watching as you pass by Halloween decorations and children dressed in costumes going Trick-or-Treating.

You don't pay much attention to what they're saying, the gist of it reminiscing on the Halloween parties they had attended in the past. Your roommate had made it very clear from the start that this guy, whatever his name was, his Halloween parties were legendary in town. He has only been throwing them for a handful of years, but if you were a young adult in rural Hawkins on Halloween night, chances are you were at this party.

You start to wonder how big this guy’s house must be if a couple hundred people have been attending every year, and it sounded like he even encouraged it.

You can hear the music bumping from the house before you even see it. It's hard to miss, a cluster of cars in the neighborhood, several people walking up the lawn towards the wide-open door. Your roommate’s boyfriend parks down the street, a spot that is probably fine to park overnight due to the nature of the party.

If there is to be a single sober soul at this party, they would be a rare sight.

You tug at your costume as you walk behind the two of them, strutting arm in arm. They’re wearing a matching couple’s costume, as salt and pepper. It’s something they could come up with last minute, him wearing a black shirt for pepper and her a white dress for salt. Their costume is minimal, and certainly they’ll get asked frequently what they’re supposed to be, but when everyone’s intoxicated, you suppose it won’t matter much.

You’re dressed as your favorite iconic Batman villain, Poison Ivy. You loved the character from the DC comics as you grew up and having a year away from your parents and in a different town, you figured it might be a time to try a new daring costume. So here you walk, arms crossed in a small green dress with fake vines pinned across your chest. You opted for some dramatic green eyeshadow and bright red lips, hoping your makeup and costume will sell the look.

Your ears are nearly bursting as you cross the threshold to the front door of the massive house from the loud bumping music. The pop music is a bit obnoxious, but you’re sure you won’t care once some alcohol is in your system.

Your roommate seems to remember you exist, escaping her boyfriend’s arms for the moment and intertwining her arm around yours. She immediately guides you to the kitchen where stacks of red solo cups are sitting, surrounded by bottles of alcohol and soda. “Holy shit.” You mutter.

“I know.” She giggles, handing you a cup and some tequila.

“No thanks.” You push it back, knowing what exactly tequila does to you. “I’ll just do a vodka-sprite.”

As you’re pouring, in waddles a lanky dude with brown curled hair and freckles scattered on his pale skin.  “Oh hey, Mandy!” He greets her, stumbling as he toasts his cup. “Haven’t seen you in a while! How’s that boyfriend of yours?” He asks, spinning the lid of the alcohol he’s holding absentmindedly, causing it to flick off into the distance.  

“Nate’s good, I think he’s taking over your stereo, though.” She says, moving the bottles around to make Nate’s drink, as well.

“As per usual.” He laughs, pouring a large quantity of said tequila into his cup.

Mandy seems to realize something halfway through her sip. “Oh shit!” She sputters out, a drip of alcohol leaving her mouth. “Sorry, I forgot you two don’t know each other, yet. Y/N, this is Steve. Steve, Y/N.”

“Hi.” You greet him shyly, his confidence radiating, but very intimidating.

“Hello. Me casa e su casa, and whatever, whatever. Can I just ask, who are you supposed to be?” He asks you, gesturing to your costume.

“Oh, Poison Ivy.” You explain to him, sipping on your concoction and wincing when you realize you’ve poured way too much.

Steve blinks at you, seemingly trying to make sense of your costume. “You’re—you’re a plant?”

You laugh, not in the mood to explain comic book villains to someone who clearly doesn’t know anything about them. “Yeah, sure.”

“Oh, cool!” Steve laughs, taking a big sip of his drink.

“Hey, Steve, you see much of Munson these days?” Mandy asks him, wiping her face from the excess drink surrounding her mouth.

How wonderful, more people you don’t know. Hawkins is the smallest town you’ve ever seen; everyone seems to know of everyone.

“Eddie? Yeah, he should be here tonight actually. Super dork, dressed as some character from Star Wars. Or at least I think it’s Star Wars.” He mutters, rolling his eyes in obvious affection for his friends. “He’s matching with Henderson and Wheeler.”

They shake their heads together in tandem at their supposedly dorky friends. As a Star Wars fan, however, you were fine, ecstatic even to hear that there were souls brave enough to dress up as dorky characters and that you weren’t the only one.

You follow Mandy into the living room, now bumping with a tape mix that Nate apparently brought to the party. It's a damn blast, everyone in the living room dancing surrounded by sweaty bodies, finally finding some joy as the strong drink makes you lose your inhibitions. As you continue dancing, suddenly you find yourself in a huddle of people, Mandy and Nate both dancing by you, but lost in their own drunken haze. You don’t care about that. However, something in your mind as you tell yourself you don’t care tells you to care about the person who’s been up against your back for God knows how long.

They have a good rhythm, and they weren’t all too touchy so nothing in your head raised any red flags. You turn around to face the stranger, and it’s like you forget how to breathe. One of his hands is placed on your hip, a smile on his face giving way to dimples that make you swoon. “Hi.” He greets you. You can’t quite hear it over the music, but you can certainly read his lips. Isn’t all that hard to decipher.

You smile back to him, letting a forearm rest on his shoulder. Who were you to deny such a pretty person? His wide smile expands even more, adding some pressure to your hip. The weight and size of his hand sends a thrill through you, and there’s a level of horniness that’s coming from you that you didn’t even know you could have.

Your drink is eventually finished, the cup dropped to the floor, forgetting to bother to throw it away. The gorgeous stranger pulls you in closer and closer as you continue to dance with him, his hands never dipping down past your waist, but you can tell by the steadiness of his grip that he knows how to use them. Usually, eye contact this intense would cause you to retract, looking away after that first glance. This eye contact only makes you want him more, his brown eyes exuding a type of lust you’ve never experienced before.

Or…were you just picturing this?

The hand that rested on your hip moves to frame your face, slender fingers brushing your cheek, caressing it for a half a moment. The hand moves down to hook under your chin, his thumb swiping across your bottom lip. His eyes very obviously stare at your lips, silently asking you for permission. When his tongue licks his bottom lip you nod eagerly, one hand moving to his black curls that you have been itching to touch as long as you’ve faced him.

Somehow, your ears muffle out the deafening music in favor of the chuckle that leaves his mouth. Before you could even register your heartbeat loud in your ears, he bends down to kiss you, and for the first time your brain computes how much taller he is than you. Any thought you might’ve had seems to evacuate the moment his soft lips meet yours. He kisses you with an expertise that makes you irrationally jealous of any other person who’s had the opportunity before you. He draws a sharp inhale as you deepen the kiss, offering more slobber and spit for him to wholeheartedly accept.

His hands tangle in your curled hair, thumbs caressing your face on either side. Something you're learning about this stranger is that he kisses with his whole body, and he knows how to do it well. His teeth graze against your bottom lip, tugging on it lightly. You whimper, shoving your tongue down his throat. A deep laugh escapes his throat as he meets your enthusiasm. He kisses the corner of your mouth, your cheek, and down to your collarbone. You barely sigh into it when his lips leave your collarbone, looking at you with remorse.

Uh oh. Not good. Were you the worst kisser and he was going to go find someone else worthy of his magical skills?

“Sorry, gotta piss. Beer’s hittin’ hard.” He shouts over the music, his thumb gesturing toward where you guessed the bathroom was.

“Ok. I’m gonna go get another drink.” You tell him, noting the red lipstick now all over his lips. “You got some uh…some lipstick there…hold on…” You reach out to wipe it for him, but he deflects, ducking from your thumb humorously.

“Uh…no thanks. I wear this shit with pride.” He explains, giving you a wink. “Meet you in the kitchen.”

You nod, suddenly full of nerves. You have been all over this guy for the last…however long, you couldn’t even tell. And now you’re realizing, he might be a decent dude on top of being a fantastic kisser.

Your legs carry you into the kitchen, running into Mandy and Nate. You weren’t sure where they’d been, having been lost in your own little world.

“Hi, babe!” She greets you, alcohol sharp on her breath. Whoa. She has had a lot more than you have. “I missed you, where the hell you been?”

You giggle, deciding to go for the tequila. After all, it was your literal liquid courage. And if you wanted to get that man’s fingers down your panties tonight, you were gonna need some. “Making out with the hottest guy I’ve ever seen in my life.” You proudly proclaim, taking a big sip of just straight tequila before adding some Sprite.

“Oh my god!” She squeals, letting go and forgetting about Nate’s existence. “Holy shit, I’m so fucking proud!” Speaking of him…he waltzes into the kitchen, grabbing a cup right by you and winking, apparently unseen by Mandy. “Shit, I’ve been looking for you!” She tells him, drunkenly tapping her hand on his bicep. “Hey, Y/N! This is Eddie. Remember? The dork Steve talked about earlier?”

Ouch. Mandy has no filter, as of course, she's drunk, but she didn’t have to be rude.

At least now you have a name for him. You were starting to feel bad. “Oh, I’m acquainted.” You tell her, sharing a smirk with Eddie.

“Seriously? Cool.” Mandy answers, not getting the hint. You gesture with your eyes alone to Mandy that Eddie was the guy you were talking about just a few moments ago. She gets it, but apparently forgets all about subtlety. “Wait, Eddie Munson is the hottest guy you’ve ever seen in your life?” She asks you incredulously, like it's the most unbelievable thing she's ever heard.

“Thanks, Mandy.” You grit out, teeth clenched.

“Oops.” She grimaces, grabbing Nate's hand. “We’re gonna go find a spot on the couch to make out. Sorry!”

You roll your eyes affectionately, knowing she meant no harm. Did she have to say it, though?

The smirk on Eddie’s face says everything without saying a word. “So, the hottest guy you’ve ever seen, huh?” He asks, looking incredibly proud of the fact.

You knock your tequila back, needing more liquid courage. “Yep. Hottest.”

His eyebrow raises, and he takes a big sip of his own drink. Maybe he needs his own courage. “Well, you’re probably the sexiest damn Poison Ivy I’ve ever seen.” He smirks, leering at you. His eyes blatantly rake up and down your body, giving you a surge in confidence. “You’re like a little sexy nugget of weed.” He laughs, his words slightly slurred.

“Wait, you get that I’m Poison Ivy?” You ask, finally assessing his costume. Oh, he’s Vader without the mask. “I mean I guess you are the dork they talked about earlier.” Eddie seems slightly sunken by this. “Don’t worry,” you tell him theatrically. “I’m a massive dork, myself.”

He perks up, pulling you in by the waist. “What do you say we find a room upstairs?” He asks, taking another big sip of his drink.

You raise your cup back to your lips, knocking the remainder down fast. “I say, lead the way.”

He grabs you by the hand and leads you up the stairs, pushing some people out of the way that were blocking it in the middle of a conversation. As he leads you down the hall, the music somewhat fades out and you can hear him muttering under his breath. “We better find a guest room cause I’m not hooking up in Harrington’s room, and I’ll be damned if I hook up in his parents' room.”

From that, you’re able to assess that he’s over here enough to know which room belongs to whom. He knocks on one of the doors, swearing softly when someone shouts out. He does it twice more, meeting the same result. “Ok.” He sighs, fingers crossed. He knocks twice, no answer. He knocks once more for good measure, and it can be said that there is definitely no one inside. “Thank fuck.”

As soon as you’re through the door he turns the dimmer switches on lightly and locks the door. You take off the vines, letting the pins and fake plants fall to the floor to make it easier for him to climb on you.

He watches you from the four postered bed, still head to toe in what you now noticed was the caped costume that Darth Vader wears. “So, we don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with, by the way. If you wanna do hand stuff, we’ll do hand stuff.”

Your gut swoops at his consideration and empathy. He seems to truly care about your comfortability rather than him getting off. You walk to him, swiping off all accessories you wore, including your shoes. You straddle his lap, pushing on him lightly so he falls back onto the bed. You attack his lips with your own, attempting to show how much his consideration for you already has you soaked. “I will do” you whisper in between a handful of kisses, “anything you want me to,” you tell him, starting to grind the tent you feel poking past your dress. “Within reason.” You add for good measure, not quite that down for anything. But if he wants to fuck you, you’re down. You’re so down. You’re so down bad.

“Fuck…do that again.” He asks, holding your hips. You comply, grinding your wet heat against him, teasing yourself, but loving the expression on his face. It's ethereal. “Fuck, baby. You barely touched me, and you already have me falling apart.”

This makes you smile with pride. A huff of laughter escapes your lips, sighing deeply as you can feel his erection growing. The fact that this man is as hard as he is when he’s this good looking is the biggest compliment in the world. You wrap his lips in a kiss again, your tongue peeking out to lick across his lip, managing to tug yet another moan out of him. You relish in the tone, the whimper that follows right after it. He really isn’t afraid to tell you how much he is enjoying what the two of you are doing.

As you continue to explore his tequila-scented mouth, both of his hands cup your ass, feeling his limber fingers bunch up the fabric of the bright green dress you’re wearing. He takes his time, giving you every minute to communicate any second thoughts. You moan impatiently, encouraging him to get under there already.

He chuckles, pulling the rest of the material up swiftly. His fingers grab at the skin of your barely covered ass cheeks roughly, the friction burning in the best way. A whimper escapes your throat, your mouth filling with the taste of him as your tongues meet. You’re sure he’s gripping those cheeks hard enough to bruise, not that you mind.

An increasing need has been growing since you first laid eyes on him, the need for him to touch you in the most sinful of ways. While his touch on your ass is electric, you are ready for much more. Your whimpers echo the thought, feeling needy for more of his touch, your hip movements going from fluid and purposeful to rigid and needy.

“What do you need, hmm?” He asks in-between kisses, one hand pushing up your dress to your waist as it caresses your bare hip. “Use your words, beautiful.”

“Need you to touch me,” the thought leaves your lips without your permission. How dare your brain betray you like that?

Eddie starts to kiss at your jaw, switching between nibbles and his tongue deliciously lapping at the skin. “Like how?” He asks in intervals, his voice soft, yet demanding. “Like this?” He grabs harshly at your ass, nails digging into the soft flesh. “Like this?” He asks again, tingles radiating down your skin as he lightly grazes your hip bone. “Or…like this?” His hand that rested on your hip bone flutters down to where heat radiates off your core, getting a feel of your soaked panties. “Oh my god, you’re so fucking wet.” He mutters, putting some pressure at the top of your mound.

Your hips start desperately grinding against his fingers, needing him to touch you. “Can you blame me?” You ask him, breath stuttering through it.

“Are you trying to flatter me?” He asks, pausing his pressure momentarily and backing off to study you. You stutter through an empty response, and he laughs kindly. “Cause flattery works, sweetheart.” His fingers move past the cotton barrier he's been making small circles against, delicately tracing along the wetness of your folds. You’re so slick, it’s like a damn slip and slide. The moment his fingers make contact with you, they’re soaked and in your juices.

“Oh shit—” you stutter, grinding on him helplessly. You can barely focus, your arms weak as you’re suddenly unable to hold your weight as you collapse on him. He's not touching you purposely, but just the feel of him sends a ripple down your spine. “Feels good.”

“Hmm.” He answers, noting the way you’re writhing so beautifully on top of him. He knew he would have you in a mess. In fact, he looked forward to it from the moment he saw you. He meticulously moves you onto your back, taking in your wide-eyed stare with a smirk. “Gonna take these off.” He mutters, fingers moving to the waistband of your panties. “Need a good look at you.”

You’re not entirely sure what he means until you see the look on his face as he stares at your pussy for the first time. His darkened stare, the slack smile he wears as he stares at you. Well not you, just the most vulnerable part of you. You’ve had a bit of experience in high school, but no one ever looked at your pussy like this. Like…it’s…

“Beautiful.” Eddie whispers, licking his lips. You watch him as he takes you in, admiring how wanted he makes you feel. Without a warning he lurches forward in between your legs, his tongue licking one long strip up your slick. Your thighs convulse, the pleasure so red hot, you can’t control the choked-out moan that escapes your lips if you tried. “Oh, you’re shaking, baby.”

His tongue moves more purposely to your clit, sucking on it and tapping with his tongue repeatedly. Your thighs clamp around his face, tensing up as every goddamn nerve is set on fire. You feel a slight huff of laughter against your puffy clit, the breath tickling you, causing you to giggle from the sensation. The giggle leads into a whimper, the small movements of his tongue sending you into overdrive. “Feels so—oh my god—I—” You stutter, unable to finish a single sentence.

He tugs your legs, forcing your knees against your chest to get even closer. A fierce heat starts in your stomach, startling the hell out of you. A great build slowly moves you, pushing you step by step over a high you’ve never reached before. Your stomach has never coiled so tightly, the heat never so intense. “Too much, too much.”

“You’re almost there, sweetheart.” He encourages you, watching every muscle in your legs tighten and feeling your abdomen tighten and release. “Oh, it’s gonna feel so good, baby. Wanna see you cum for me, see you fall apart, hear that pretty little mouth make the prettiest noises.”

Eddie slips a finger in, pumping it slowly at first, building up the speed quickly as he continues sucking. There’s something in you telling you to be embarrassed at how quickly your orgasm has snuck up on you, but from the foreplay of his expert lips and the mind-numbing words, it only makes sense.

“Cl-close…” You manage out, the heat making your way through your body, even making a stop in your head.

“Let me see you come apart, sweetheart.” He tells you, working his fingers at an unmatched rate.

The sensation sends you over the edge, your extremities shaking uncontrollably. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, a near primal moan leaves your mouth, a sound you didn’t even know you had the capability of making.

It takes you a minute to recover, Eddie working you through your whole orgasm and gently kissing your thighs until you come back to. He’s patient, waiting until your breathing slows down, kissing his way up your half-dressed torso. Eddie rests his body on yours, the tent in his pants meeting the heat of your center as his forearms support his weight on either side of your head. His thumbs sway at your temple, slowly watching as your eyes lose their glaze.

Your vision finally focuses back on him, his soft smile on his face welcoming as he watches you. His legs tense up, his muscles spasming as he resists thrusting into your heat. It’s teasing you, your hips accidentally moving upwards to meet the now wet stain on his polyester costume. “You’re wearing too much.” You tell him, whining softly.

“I’m sorry, should I take these off?” He asks, kissing you rapidly on the face right after. “Or if you’re done, I don’t blame you.”

“Done?” You ask incredulously. “Oh no, I’m not even close to done.” You tell him, giggling when he gives you a smirk.

“Just checking, sweetheart.” Eddie replies, kissing you rapidly again.

You’re finally back on earth, your hands reaching around him to look for where his costume opens. You had a feeling it would open from the back. You pull each Velcro apart one by one, your hands telling you as you move down that he’s not wearing anything underneath. You don't know if it's odd or the hottest thing in the world. Both, definitely both.

Your nails scratch at his skin at the last one, finally taking the shoulders off. You gasp as he helps you take out each arm awkwardly, only because you could finally see all the tattoos that his costume has covered up. “Holy shit.” You mutter, hands reaching out to palm at each one.

As he mouths at your neck, you push the rest of his costume down, figuring out it was a one piece. Ok. Steve might’ve been right about calling him a dork. But with his cunnilingus skills, who fucking cares? “You wanna fuck?” He asks, making his way down your neck, one hickey at a time.

You wrap your legs around his waist, tugging him down so the thin fabric meets your soaked pussy even harder. “Please?”

“When you ask so nicely, how could I deny?” He answers, leaving one last final nibble on your shoulder. He gets up without a warning, and you whine pathetically. “Jus’ takin off my pants sweetheart. Can’t put my dick in you if it’s still covered.”

You watch him pull down his pants, teasing you as it makes its way down his torso, his treasure trail, the v-line, you start drooling the moment his cock pops out. You figured he was big from his bulge pressed against you, but the material was apparently holding him back from his true length. You spend a good minute staring at it, how pink the head is, how thick he looks, it made you nearly feral.

“Enjoying the show?” Eddie asks. You glance back up at his face, heating up when you realize you've stared a lot longer than planned.

“Mmmhmm.” You tell him, not seeing any need to deny.

He lurches forward onto the bed, yanking giggles out of you. His hands roughly move up your torso to take your dress off, moving it over your head. He throws it over his shoulder, eyes raking in your tits like they’re in the Louvre. Hell, he’d take a polaroid and hang it there, despite the risk of security arresting and escorting him out immediately after.

“You are fucking gorgeous, baby.” He mutters, leaning into one of your tits mouthing at the nipple delicately, grazing it with his teeth, turning the mound into a shade of purple.

You can’t help yourself, reaching down to grab his cock. “Need you in me.” You urge him, smiling when he lets out a surprised whimper.

“Fucking—” he stutters out, biting on his lip. “Yeah, yeah, okay. I can do that.” He laughs, and before you have a moment to admire how adorable that was, you feel him line himself up. “Shit, you’re fucking tight.”

You can feel exactly what he means, the head barely pushing in. Even with how wet you are, Eddie's having difficulty pushing into you. Your mouth drops open, panting through it at the blinding pain and pleasure. He pauses, giving you a moment to adjust. “Feels so goddamn good, Ed.” You gasp, blindly reaching for him.

Blindly, because your eyes are unable to stay open from the sheer pleasure that has taken over your body.

“I know, baby I know.” He whispers, holding one hand to your face.

“Ok.”

He pushes in more, eliciting a high-pitched whine out of you. “You have any idea how fucking hot those little noises that you make are?” He asks, his voice husky and strained.

You laugh at his successful attempt at flattery, causing him to whine at the way your pussy tightens around him in sync. “Keep going.”

He pushes in a little bit more, your legs tensing around his torso as the noise caught in your throat is even louder. “You’re taking me so well, baby, what a good girl.” You tighten up at his praise, provoking Eddie to get the idea that praise is something that you desire. “Oh, you liked that, didn’t you, my good girl?” You tighten around him again, Eddie twitching in you as a response.

“More.” You manage out, your voice guttural. He pushes in just a little bit more. “Oh my god, you’re in my fucking stomach, so fucking deep!” You whine, eyes closed as you pulse around him.

“Just a little bit more, baby. You’re doing so well, such a good girl.”

“More.”

He pushes the rest of his cock in, finally able to rest his body on yours. You take your time adjusting to his size, inhaling, and exhaling with purpose as the pain subsides. “That’s a girl, take your time.” He mutters, watching you carefully.

“Kiss me please.” You whisper, opening your eyes to face the intensity radiating from his chocolate brown ones. He leans in for a lush kiss, your legs wrapping around him to pull him in tightly. His hand moves to your tit, playing with the nipple between two of his fingers. Your tongues meet, somehow knowing exactly what the other needs. “You can move now.” You whisper in between kisses.

Eddie, apparently a master at multitasking, lifts his hips without so much as stuttering in the kiss. You expected him to stop, but the new mix of sensation throws you off intensely. His first thrust causes you to shout directly into his mouth. You’re much more prepared for the second thrust, however unprepared for the force behind it. “Yeah?” He asks, pulling back and staring into your eyes.

You nod enthusiastically. “So good. Cock feels…so good.” You whine to him, legs unable to continue holding onto him as tight as they were. Now they’re floating in the air aimlessly, unable to focus on much except for how good and how deep he is. “How…this good?” The question you meant to ask was how he was so good at fucking like this, but your mouth was unable to form a single coherent sentence.

“Barely been in you for a minute, and you’re already cock-drunk, huh?” He borderline mocks you, fucking you faster with each thrust.

You grunt in response, fully accepting the label of cock drunk. “So…good, Eddie!” It’s just…fucking true, which is the only rational thought in your brain for the moment. Others are So Hot, and Big Ass Cock, and finally, Gorgeous fucking body.

“Your pretty pussy is so tight, baby, bein’ such a good girl for me.” Eddie sits up, pulling your ass down to where he can fuck you in a better position where he can hit your g-spot. He rests a hand sideways on your lower tummy, putting slight pressure on it. This sends a blinding hot pleasure into you as he repeatedly hits that spot.

“F-fuck, get-getting cl-close…” you stutter, feeling your tits bounce at the sheer force he's fucking you with.

“This is fucking embarrassing, but so am I, baby.” He mutters, starting to go at a faster rate, which you would've deemed impossible a few seconds ago. “Your pussy is so fucking good, can’t fuckin’ help myself.”

You half giggle, half moan at the flattery, not minding for one moment that he would cum so quickly. After all, he spent the first half paying most of his attention to you, so you understand if he's been pent up. While that is the reality of why, you can’t help but feel like hot shit for making someone as fantastic as Eddie cum so fast. His stamina and willingness to give on top of how gorgeous he is does nothing but boost your ego.

“Cum with me.” You beg him, also on the edge. “Cum in me.”

“Oh my god—” you make his hips stutter, and you smile with pride. “You sure, baby?” He asks, trying to make sure he covers his tracks.

“Cum in me, please, daddy!” It leaves your mouth before you’re unable to stop it, the daddy kink not quite something you break out on the first fuck most of the time.

Eddie, however, is a different breed. He meets the unexpected outburst with a growl, and you swear his cock twitches inside of you. “Of course, baby girl, whatever you want.” He grunts out. “Daddy is gonna fill you the fuck up.” He lurches forward so he’s skin on skin with you again so he can whisper in your ear. “When we go back downstairs, I’m gonna keep your panties, and you're gonna dance with my cum dripping down your fucking legs.” You tighten up around him, telling Eddie this is exactly what you wanted from him. The sweet mixture of praise and degradation makes your head spin with need. “You like that, huh? Of course, you’d like that you fucking slut.” His hips rut harshly against yours and at a stupid crazy speed. “If I catch you trying to clean yourself up, you’re gonna fucking hear about it, got it?”

You nod, entirely thrilled about this.

“Didn’t fuckin hear you, slut.”

“Got it, daddy.” You answer, right on the edge.

“You gonna cum with me, baby girl?” He asks, his voice strained.

“Mmhmm. Waiting for you.”

“Good fucking girl. I’m so close…fuck…gonna—” Eddie is interrupted by his own orgasm, which sends you over the edge with him. It’s not as intense as your last one, so you’re able to pay extra attention to the look on his face. His mouth half open, a deep moan leaving his throat.  Oh god, you’ll definitely be remembering this next time it’s only you and your imagination.

He collapses on you, his chest and forehead covered in sweat. The only sound in the air is you and Eddie catching your breath together. Your breath is finally back in your lungs, but your heart is still racing against his chest. He suddenly sits himself back on his forearms, petting at your forehead and hair gently. “Fuck, please go out with me on Saturday.” He whispers, quietly assessing the expression you wear on your face.

“Huh?” You ask him, unsure you heard him correctly.

“Go out with me on Saturday. Please, I can’t fuck a pussy this good and not take you out on a hot date.” He mutters softly, placing the gentlest of kisses on your lips.

“If you think I’m letting you go after this, you’re fucking insane.” You whisper back, framing his face to grab it for another lush kiss.

Eddie sighs, petting your hair. “Thank fucking god.” He pulls out of you, tugging a whimper out of you. He gives one last kiss, before moving down your torso. You almost ask what he was doing, when you feel two of his fingers push inside you quickly.

Your head jerks up, wondering what in the ever-living hell he's doing.

“Just helping by pushing the cum back in you, baby. Wanted to give you at least a fighting chance before it starts dripping down these stunning thighs of yours.” He places a wet kiss on your thigh, one last quiver radiating through it. “You good to stand up?”

“Hope so.” You laugh, scooching your ass down the plain comforter. Eddie tosses you your dress and gets dressed back into his cheap costume himself.

You assess Eddie, fixing his hair so he doesn’t look so disheveled. “You realize my lipstick is all over your neck and face, right?” You ask him, assessing him in all his post-nut glory. How the fuck is anyone this hot?

“Didn't I tell you earlier that I'm gonna wear this shit with pride, darlin?” He asks you, giving you a smile that makes you melt. “Wanna go downstairs and make-out on Steve's dad’s stupid chair?”

“If we make out I might wanna blow you.” You admit, the effects of the alcohol and the level of his hotness has still completely taken over your brain.

Eddie groans, and you swear his pupils dilate. “Fuck, I’ll take you into the nearest hallway closet if that happens, then you can get on your knees and suck my cock off like a good girl. You just tell me, yeah?”

You giggle as he opens the door and you nod enthusiastically, pretty much already in your head that hooking up with Eddie is nowhere near done.

When you reach the bottom of the steps, Eddie tugs on your hand straight to the leather chair in the corner, having you sit across his lap as his tongue makes its way down your throat again.

Eventually, after a mere ten minutes of teasing, Eddie has to lead you to a hallway closet, where yes, you worship him on your knees with his treasure trail meeting your nose.

That was the best fucking Halloween, ever.

-

Thank you so much for reading! I love to read your comments, replies, and reblogs. As always, reblogging is the best way to support your fic writers on tumblr.

Taglist: @pinkcowracing @yourthebrokengirl @skrzydlak @thirddeadlysin @sammararaven @bebe07011 @prettylovley @josephquinnschesthair @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you @names-were-taken @oddussy420

#eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x f!reader

[eupheme]

— renegade

joel miller x f!reader

rated E - 3k words

tags - light angst, established situationship, nightmares, mutual yearning, lots of pretending, soft!dom Joel, restraints, face fucking, fingering, PiV

a/n - inspired by ‘renegade’ by big red machine

“Is this why you’re here?” Joel asks you, shifting his hips, pushing himself deeper into your fist. His voice rough with sleep, the sound making you squirm behind him.

It was easy to pretend it was.

That it was just physical. Fucking the nightmares from your head - that it could be anyone else burying themselves inside you, and the outcome would be the same.

You sleep better here. Anything is better than a night spent alone in the room that isn’t yours, and never will be. Nightmares find you there - seeking out your sorrow, draining you dry.

When it becomes too much, as it often does, you go to him. Going out into the night, slipping like a ghost into the shadows.

Finding the familiar way to inside - finally able to breathe again when the window slides shut with a click. When you’re curled in his bed, the blankets pulled over you like a shield.

It will get you shot, one day. Sneaking in like this. With anyone else you might have been already - but not with Joel.

You think he doesn’t really mind your nightly visits. The way he keeps the crates stacked just so, beneath the fire escape.

How he only locks one side of the window after you leave - the other just out of the reach of your knife, when you wiggle the latch open from the outside.

It smells like him - these faded, patterned sheets. Ones he’d never pick out for himself, in another life.

Before.

Ones that you can’t imagine him not having, because this is the only way you know him.

The familiarity soothes you, even though he’s not here. Exhaustion starting to weigh you down, starting at the tips of your limbs and curling around you like vines.

Eyelids growing heavy, listening to the rain that’s just begun to sprinkle down. Drowning out the stomping rows of boots outside - a white noise that lulls you to sleep.

This time - you don’t dream.

———

He almost missed that you’re here. The sound of your breathing, the little hitches of breath while you sleep, engulfed by the downpour.

Only seeing the lump in the blankets as he sheds his rain-stained coat, the canvas soaked-though at the shoulders.

A mark deepening between his brows as he glances at your form - the jacket and pants thrown over the broken radiator. Moving to the window, flipping the latch on the left side back into place.

You’re slippery. Squeezing through cracks. Worming your way into his room and under the hardened armor of his skin.

For anyone else, this layer you’ve peeled back and crawled beneath would be no more than surface-level. An acquaintance, perhaps.

But with Joel, it’s so much more. It makes his skin itch, as if it was flayed back - exposed and raw.

Uncomfortable. But not unwelcome.

He hadn’t seen you today - the silent check he does. Just needing a glance of your hair, your shape in the crowd. It’s enough, a second in the long minutes and hours that make up his day.

It’s a small relief, a fresh breath of air he didn’t know he needed.

Silently, he strips down. Clothes folded on a chair with chipped paint - someone old DIY gone wrong. Looking like The End had already hit, years before it did.

A hand running through his hair, pushing the damp strands back, padding over to the edge of the bed.

“Come on, honey.” His words hold a softness that doesn’t exist when the sun is shining - a moment he knows you won’t remember.

Gently easing you over, so he can fit himself in behind you. Curling into your warmth, the blankets tucked back around you both.

The frown easing from his face when you murmur - face burrowing into the pillow, fingers brushing against the arm that wraps around your ribs. The hand that flattens against your stomach.

His name, no more than sleepy murmur, as you get comfortable again.

“Joel.”

He wonders if you’re dreaming about him.

He wonders if he’ll dream about you.

———

He’s solid, strong back and broad-shouldered. Shifting in the night to face away from you, as he often did. For comfort or another attempt to keep others out - a literal barrier - you’ll never know. Your chest presses against his spine, an arm curling around his waist.

Your eyes crack open. It’s still dark out, the sky just starting to streak with grey. You hadn’t slept long but you had slept soundly - the best you’ve had in days.

The tip of your nose brushes against the cotton of his shirt. Shifting so you can move higher, so it can skim against the base of his neck, instead. Press into the soft hair that curls - smelling like rain and sweat and him.

Your fingers trace the cotton at his hip, skim across the elastic waistline of his boxers. It had been over two weeks since you had last caved - had last come here.

It had been a good run. But the nightmares had come back - flashes of your past that you can’t bear to relive.

He shields you from them. Waking easily at the first sound of your muttering - his hand curling around your shoulder, low voice pulling you back out.

You know he understands. How he talks in his sleep as well, how you do the same for him. An unspoken agreement.

He shifts, against you. Only the slightest change in his breathing - he can wake from a dead sleep in an instant.

A hand, warm and calloused, finding yours as it brushes the strip of bare skin where his shirt has ridden up.

Dragging your hand down, to where he strains against the fabric. The pressure of his fingers curling yours around his length as he groans.

His hand leaves yours to tug down the waistband, removing the barrier between your palm and his hot, bare skin. Pushing them down his thighs, kicking them off to twist in the blankets.

The tip of your thumb brushes over the head, smearing precum over the tip. Air hisses between clenched teeth as he inhales, as you press yourself closer, crushing yourself against him as your arm pumps.

“Is this why you’re here?” Joel asks you, shifting his hips, pushing himself deeper into your fist. His voice rough with sleep, the sound making you squirm behind him.

It was easy to pretend it was.

That he didn’t go to bed hard, like this - the only thing keeping him from waking you up was knowing how much you needed the sleep.

That it was just physical. Fucking the nightmares from your head - that it could be anyone else burying themselves inside you, and the outcome would be the same.

It’s a lie, though. You both know it.

He’s the only one you go to. You’re the only one he’s let in.

You hum your response, trying to peek over the bulk of his shoulder. To watch him fucking your hand, skin sliding against skin.

Lips press against his neck again and he shudders. Moving your hand from him, twisting in your grip until you’re trapped beneath the spread of thick thighs.

The heavy jut of his flushed cock swaying, as he adjusts himself on top of you. Leaving a damp patch smeared across your breast, as he takes himself in his hand again.

He hasn’t meant to end up quite like this.

Had just wanted you warm and soft beneath him. Moving up too high on your waist on accident - still hazy with sleep - ending up with your arms pinned against your sides.

Making to move, until he sees the way you’re focused on his hand, your lips parting. Showing off a pink flash of tongue. Fingers gripping on to his ankles - the only part of him you can reach - nails digging in.

“You want this?” He asks, stroking himself - his fist fitting in the valley between your breasts. His other hand cupping his sack, squeezing.

Leaving you to watch the flex of his forearm, the flushed tip appearing between thumb and forefinger. Nodding, your tongue peeking out to wet your lips.

“Ask me for it.” It’s not a request, his head tilting as your hands tighten around him.

As he angles his cock down, shifting until it’s hovering, just out of reach. Your chin lifts, mouth opening as your eyes fix on his.

Joel’s jaw grits. You can see the heave of his chest, the hand cupping himself dropping to the curve of your breast. Thumb rolling over the tight bud - the sensation dulled by your thin top, but it’s him and your body still sings.

You crack first.

“Wanna taste you.” Your eyes are still on him, can see the way he swallows hard, how he shifts over you.

“Fuck, baby.” He growls. The hand around his cock drops to curl around the back of your neck, twisting in your hair to angle you.

All while he moves forward, pressing himself against the flat of your tongue. Where you’re open and waiting for the weight of his cock, to taste the salt of his skin and the drop that still clings to the tip.

Wet and aching for him already - a dull thudding between your thighs, where they press and rub together.

You groan, as he inches inside. Lips wrapping around and sucking, causing him to hiss out a breath, his hips hitching.

Nudging him a little too deep, as you cough - tears springing to your eyes. He shifts back with soothing words, the hand on your breast moving to cup your jaw - thumb rubbing against your cheek.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” There’s a pinch to his brow, your head shaking minutely to tell him it’s fine. A second, as he thinks, “Tap my leg if it’s too much. You got that?”

He waits for you to listen, giving an experimental tap. Before he tries again - hips rocking, a slow and shallow press into your mouth.

You take him, relaxing into the cup of his hand. Eyes wandering across his stomach, chest - whatever you can see when he draws back. Closing, so you can listen to the groans that reverberate in his chest. Letting him use you, to fuck your mouth - trusting him, putting yourself in his hands.

A hand that flexes and twists in your hair. His thumb of the other sweeping against your cheekbone, the hollow under your eye - brushing away the tear that glistens against your skin.

So tender it makes your chest ache. Fingers curling against his leg, squeezing. He’s pulling himself from you, then - out of the warmth of your mouth, as you swallow.

Trying to protest that it wasn’t the signal, your lips glossy and shining. He’s shifting back, nudging your thighs wide to fit between them. Lowering himself down, his cock wet and thick and digging into your hip.

“I know.” He murmurs. Before his mouth presses to yours, the kiss sloppy. Tongue brushing where his cock had been, as he tugs at the waistband of your underwear.

Dragging them down to join his, fingers dipping between your thighs. Groaning into your mouth when he feels how wet you are from sucking him off, the tips pressing and circling against your clit.

You whine his name, the stubble on his cheek scraping against your skin. Breath hot in your ear as his weight pins you down. Thumb smearing your slick across your clit, so he can fit a finger inside.

You’re tight, molten hot. Gripping him already as you arch into him, as he slips in another. Curling them until they drag against a spot that makes you moan - strung tight beneath him.

He need to calm down, make you come, before he fucks you. A pressure swiftly building in his belly when he watched you, the trust in the way you took him.

The sound of his fingers is loud, the wet suck as he fits in a third. Stretching you out, each of your breaths harsh, your nails biting into his skin.

Already so needy, already near the edge. Each of your breaths coming shorter as his hips press against yours. Letting your fingers drift to feel the hard curve of his cock, hearing his grunt in your ear when you tug on him.

“Don’t worry about me.” He groans, voice rough before his lips press against the column of your neck.

As if you ever weren’t.

As if you didn’t always want him.

His words were unneeded, because you’re losing concentration quickly. Only focused on the tension in your belly - the pressure like a finger squeezing down the trigger, about to fire.

He’s relentless, fingers pounding, the wet flick of his thumb. Feeling your racing pulse beneath his lips, the sharp gasp of each breath, your muscles flexing.

Tightening around him until that tension snaps. Pleasure thrumming through you as you buck into his hand, your mind going blissfully blank and fuzzy - your moan strung out and pitched high.

Missing his words, feeling the brush of his other hand over your legs, smoothing over your hips. You can just make out the timbre, leaving you to imagine the rest.

Christ, just like that.

Good fucking girl.

Fingers slow as he pushes himself up, only removing them to tug at your shirt - pulling his own from his shoulders.

Folding himself between your limp, spread thighs, before hooking his elbows under your knees. Opening you up, where you’re soaked and the fluttering is still ebbing.

The twist of his wrist as he lines himself up - smearing his tip across your slit. The briefest tease, indulgence, before he slides in. Sinking inside of your tight heat in a long, fluid motion.

“Fuck, I missed you.” You breathe, brow pinched as he fills a chasm you didn’t realize you had.

His breath comes out ragged.

It’s not in the script. The words you both know. No, this had come from the soft pulp of your heart, a late night confession.

He doesn’t know how to take it. Mouth crushing against yours as he sinks deeper, swallowing your words to keep them safe.

Trying not to think about how his own answer had sprung to his lips, unbidden. It’s dangerous. To think like that, to have any sort of claim on anything, now.

It’s easier to pretend you just miss his cock.

That you just came here to forget.

That’s something he can do - drawing his hips back, snapping back in. Watching the way your tits bounce, everything softened and hazy with the thin grey light that creeps in.

Shifting, lifting a leg to brace on his shoulder, pushing him deeper as you gasp. The other pressing against his ribs, curling around his waist.

Freeing up his arms so he can taste your release on his fingertips. Licking you from him before he presses the calloused pads against your own mouth.

You take him, tongue curling around spit-slicked fingers. Tasting yourself on them, your sighs muffled when he presses down on your tongue.

Thumb dragging against your lower lip, before he pulls himself from the heat of your pretty mouth. Finding his way to where you take him, tracing slick fingers up your slit. Feeling where you’re stretched wide around him, puffy and slick.

Teasing at your clit - as your hands clench in the sheets, twisted up near your ears.

In a world where the right protection can mean life or death - where a bite can end everything - it’s a wonder how you bare yourself to him. His hand ghosting across soft skin, from breasts to hip. Fingertips indenting flesh, gripping, pulling, tugging.

Watching with greedy eyes how you gaze up at him, an ankle digging into his shoulder - trying to force him deeper. He leans forward, putting more force behind his thrusts, watching the way your lips part with a soft “ah!” with every breath.

Fingers pressing and swiping against the tight bud of your clit, the way he knows you like it.

He needed this too - to bury himself in you. Feel the way you wrap tight and warm around him. His own tongue loosened like this, his own release building again.

“Christ, look at you.” He grits out.

Admiring. It makes you preen, lips stretched wide in a grin, a bright flash of teeth in the dark. Eyes half-lidded and heavy, doing your own slow sweep.

Over a tight waist that your leg hooks around. Bare stomach and broad chest, dusted with dark hair, only the slightest hint of grey. Not like the strands at his temples, the ones that streak throughout the curls. Peppering his facial hair.

Ruining you again. It had been a long time since you wanted something, and you can’t get him out of your head. Always coming back, even though you’re sure it won’t end well.

Because nothing does, any more.

You won’t let your soft heart ruin tonight. Not when his thumb sweeps across your hip. His eyes dark and glittering as he watches your face, as he works you up again.

The sharp rut of his cock and swirl of his fingers so perfect, that the tears start to well up, again.

“Joel,” You say his name again, “F-fuck, I’m gonna come.”

You felt like heaven on his fingers - tight and hot and sopping wet for him. It doesn’t hold a candle to now, how you squirm beneath him, the slap of his skin against yours.

The snug fit of your cunt, as you clench around him.

“Want you to.” He rasps out, resisting the urge to fuck you harder, faster. Keeping the same pace, the same circle of his fingers, “Let me feel you, baby.”

Need you to.

You come with a cry. Back bowing against the mattress, limb wrapping around him. Turning his thrusts into a sloppy grind, your hands coming to grip at his forearms. The waves crashing over you stronger and longer than before, your vision turning dark and hazy.

“Fuck. Fuck-” He growls - as the tight pulse pulls him to the edge.

It’s too much.

It’s all he can think about, as he pulls himself from you. Fisting his cock, jerking himself until he spills across your mound, your slick pussy.

How he wishes he could have stay buried, throbbing inside you, coating your walls with his release. Marking you, only pulling out so he can watch it leak from you later.

The word echos in his ears, layered with the thudding of his heart.

Dangerous.

———

You’re gone, when he wakes up.

The hazy morning sun is just barely casting warm rays of light onto the worn wooden floorboards as he drags himself from bed - a hand passing over his face, pressing into his eyes.

Pushing himself up, making his way over to the window.

But there’s nothing - just puddles collecting in the broken ridges of the roads. The streets washed clean from the rain.

Fingers drift, tracing up the cool frame of the window, until it’s touching the chipped white paint of the latch. Lost in thought for a long moment - before his hand drops back down to the sill.

He leaves the right side unlocked.

thank you so much for reading! 💕

#no show spoilers! 💕 #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller smut #joel miller imagine

[dear-ao3]

so i say “jesus h christ” all the time, have been for years, but had no recollection of where i picked it up from. i knew it was from Something, what what the Something was was anyone’s guess.

so time goes on, as time does, and i continue to say this phrase, every so often wondering why this was an integral part of my vocabulary. maybe it was something an old youtuber said, perhaps dan howell. possibly it was from a vine. maybe even something one of my friends said. but as. it remained a mystery. and i, satisfied with the mystery, continued to say it knowing i would never know where it came from.

until yesterday.

there i was, scrolling through the absolute depths of my camera roll, searching for one specific photo that i took in high school when i happened upon some old ao3 fanfic screenshots. eager to judge my part selfs fanfic taste i opened them without hesitation.

it was a newsies chat fic from 2018. anyone who was a fandom regular will surely remember the fic “seize the gay” and i am about 99% sure that it was from that one specifically.

and low and behold i have a screenshot of one of the characters saying “jesus h christ.”

all this time

all these five years

i have been quoting a newsies chat fic from 2018

jesus h christ.

#i think this is hilarious #btw #not a tag #from saph #newsies #yea it’s probably not from this Originally but I Know that’s where i picked it up from #also albert said it in case you were wondering

[augustinewrites]

autumn tends to be dawn winery’s busiest season.

because the harvest season heralds weinlesefest, which brings people from all over to mondstadt to celebrate, well, wine. so, it goes without saying that dawn winery not only has their own booth set up, but also supplies bars all over the city, hosts more wine tours and tastings, and works hard to accommodate the rise in exports to all over teyvat.

and if dawn winery is busy, that means diluc is busy. he’s got less free time, frequently going over budgets with elzer, meeting with potential vendors, and overseeing the winery’s increased day to day activity.

but weinlesefest is special, and while most of the ragnvindr’s family traditions died with his father, this one was much too precious to let go. especially now that diluc had a family of his own.

your two children hold wicker baskets as they walk through the orchard, each clutching one of their father’s hands. they love this little tradition as much as he does, listening intently as he lectures them in the art of picking the finest grapes.

he teaches them the textures to feel for, the scents. it’s a little much for a three and four year old to understand, but they get the point when he gives them ideal grapes to munch on.

tonight, they’ll even get to crush what they’ve harvested themselves. though most of the winery’s products are crushed in a press, the age-old maceration method of grape-treading is part of the fun and messy ragnvindr tradition.

there’s a soft smile gracing his face as he follows them around the orchard, lifting your little daughter in his arms to help her reach the grapes at the top of the vine. it’s a sight that pulls the words right out of your mouth and instead resonates deep within your chest.

you’re content to watch from your spot on the picnic blanket, humming as you unpack the lunch adelinde had prepared.

“do you think we picked enough grapes for aunt jean?” you hear him ask, to which they both nod fervently.

“well, you definitely didn’t pick enough for uncle kaeya.”

your daughter’s little face lights up as said uncle strolls into the vineyard, eyeing the rows of unpicked grapes like a cat that got the canary. “uncle kaeya!”

diluc rolls his eyes as his kids run toward the cavalry captain, but the smile on his face is fond as his brother (who is, much to his chagrin, his children’s favourite at the moment) kneels down to wrap them up in his arms. your husband makes his way back to your side, groaning as he sits beside you on the blanket.

“of all the people,” he muses, shaking his head slightly, watching as kaeya leads your children in harvesting more than the required bunches of grapes, giggling together as they do so. “the grandmaster of the knights, the chief alchemist, literally anyone else. even that bard.”

“he’s the cavalry captain,” you remind him, leaning into his side. “and he’s decent enough at watching the kids.”

he replies with a noncommittal hum, wrapping an arms around you and pressing a kiss to your temple. “we should have him babysit more often then. say…tomorrow night?”

“it has been a while since we’ve gone out,” you agree. a night out is just what the two of you need after how busy the both of you have been preparing for the festival.

“i know. i’ll make us a reservation and you…you can put on that black dress i like.”

you shake your head, face suddenly hot with embarrassment when you remember what’d happened the last time you’d worn the dress. “oh no. the black dress is retired, diluc.”

“since when?”

“since i had two children!”

“then i bet it’ll fit even better now because of—” he gestures vaguely at your chest.

you’re about to offer him a witty retort when you see kaeya appears before the both of you, your daughter clutching his hand and rubbing at her eyes. “looks like someone’s feeling the effect of missing her nap.”

you move to take her, but diluc beats you to it. “i’ve got her.”

of course, your little girl relaxes at the sight of her father, holding her arms out to him. diluc hoists her up, pressing his lips to her forehead and murmuring something only she can hear, her little face scrunching with laughter as he nudges her nose with his. “come on, let’s go get your brother so we can crush some grapes.”

“it’s like they get cuter everyday,” kaeya sighs, joining you in watching your little family in the vineyard. “you guys did good.”

“we ‘did good?’” you chuckle, sending him a strange look.

“yeah,” he shrugs. “it’s good to have proof that my straight-laced brother’s had sex more than once in his life.”

you roll your eyes, but are unable to hold back a smile. "what about you?"

“oh, i’ve had way more se—”

“i meant kids, kaeya.”

he hangs his head between his legs, shoulders trembling as he laughs. "ah, my lifestyle isn't exactly conducive to kids right now," he tells you.

then, after a moment, "someday, though. definitely someday."

you watch as diluc shifts his daughter into one arm, scooping your son up with the other. you’re graced with one of his rare, soft smiles when they both cuddle into him, clinging to his neck.

"hey, kaeya?" you ask. "do you feel like babysitting tomorrow?"

#diluc x reader #genshin x reader #genshin fluff #diluc fluff #genshin drabbles #diluc x you

[hopelessdelusional]

Literally got a dream after i read this prompt, went insane, and then basically wrote a whole book

so it’s safe to say im obsessed

word count: 4K

╭── ⋅ ⋅ ─ ✩ ─⋅ ⋅ ──╮

Bakugou Katsuki is a hero.

He is a Pro Hero, number 2 to be in fact (damn Deku). He has made a living fighting battles and saving lives, jumping off roofs and flying in the sky. He is a real life super hero, putting his life in danger. Every morning he wakes up has to prepare himself for the things he may see that day. The blood he might shed, and the people he may not be able to save. He has learned to be fearless, never finding himself nervous when jumping into the fight.

And yet, he’s never felt more terrified right now.

He met you three years ago, after quite literally crashing right into the very studio you record your music. He was battling a woman who had the ability to make and control giant vines, and apparently are explosive-proof. Todoroki almost hit him with a blast of his shitty ice, making him turn to his so called “partner” and cuss him out. However, that gave the villain the chance to grab him, and send him flying.

Bakugou soon found himself miles away from the fight, as he had to use his quirk in order not to fall to his death. But as many know, his quirk is sporadic.

That is how he crash landed into your studio.

It hurt like hell sure, but when he opened his eyes and saw you standing over him with nothing but concern in your eyes, he instantly forgot the many injuries he gained. You were breathtaking, and not like anyone he had ever interacted with. You immediately made the terrified people in the studio help him up and you found the nearest first aid kit and fixed him up as best as you could before an ambulance came.

He was dazed, but you were so kind and made small talk. Bakugou had always been one to hate any type of small talk, but he loved every word that left your mouth. You were newly moved to Japan, some sort of opportunity came to you that you couldn’t turn down (Bakugou was severely concussed so a lot of what you said was a blur).

Bakugou does remember Mina and Kaminari mentioning you, playing your music whenever he came to either of their houses. You had such a unique voice, a bit raspy that caught the attention of millions of people. Surprisingly, also caught the attention to Bakugou, as he would play it during the rare nights when he’d be cooking alone in his kitchen. Your story telling was incredible, your lyrics were anything but bland. Making music about the bad and good exes you’ve had, your friends and family, your past, and even wrote songs about random characters your beautiful mind came up with. You always made sure to use all sorts of instruments, and the notes that you compacted into your songs never ceased to amaze Bakugou’s standards.

Now he was here, sitting on a table asking you all sorts of questions about you. Maybe it was the concussion, or maybe it was just your personality but Bakugou began to get addicted to you, never wanting you to stop talking.

“Here.”

You turned away from him, your hand leaving his knee instantly making him already miss the warmth of you as you shuffled through your bag.

He watched you with curiosity (and took the chance to shamelessly check out your ass) before you turned around with a newfound grin on your face. You were holding a pen, and he cocked an eyebrow at you, not understanding the excitement of this pen in your perfect hand. You walked back over to him, your perfume becoming addicting to him, and you gently grabbed his hand. You were making intense eye contact with him, and Bakugou suddenly felt…nervous? You smiled at the blush that rose on the hero’s face, before you clicked the pen and began to write something on his wrist.

Bakugou watched, feeling somewhat like a child, and once you finished and allowed him to look. He was pleasantly surprised to see your number on his arm.

His head instantly shot up, almost not believing this was happening.

“If I text this and it’s a scam, I’m gonna hunt you down.”

His gruff voice didn’t match the face he was making at you, and you threw your head back and laughed.

Once you caught your breath, you smiled at him, making him blush even more (he didn’t even know that was possible!).

“As fun as that would be, I promise that is in fact my home number. I would never trick my favorite pro hero like that.”

Out of the corner of his eye he saw two paramedics walking through the door, ready to help him out of there. However, he chose to ignore them and smirk at you instead.

“Favorite eh?”

You giggled, still holding his hand.

“Don’t get too cocky mister, or else I’ll write a mean song about you.”

His grin widened, using his other hand to lead your hand to his lips. He gently kissed it, hating how chapped his lips were, but the blush that quickly appeared on your cute cheeks made it worth it.

“I’d rather the song have another meaning.”

The two of you held eye contact, and he soaked up every second of it not ever wanting to forget what color you eyes were.

You smiled at him before you turned to the paramedics that began to replace your presence. They helped him up, and walked him over to the bed that was rolled in by another paramedic. Once he was comfortable (as comfortable as someone with many broken ribs and a concussion could be) he looked back up at you. Bakugou was annoyed to see one of the paramedics talking nervously to you, asking for an autograph. However, the jealously slowly turned into admiration as he watched you beam at the man as you excitedly signed the crinkled piece of paper he had in his pocket.

“My daughter just adores your music, she started learning guitar because of you actually! It’s truly incredible watching her play, just makes me so proud of her.”

Your lip was pouted, as you stood listening to his words. You looked so genuine, so happy that he was telling you this. Bakugou could tell this means the world to you, watching you enthusiastically hugged him. The two of you quickly made your goodbyes, and you immediately turned to look his way. Bakugou would have been embarrassed that he was caught looking at you if you hadn’t beamed at him like that. You jogged over to him, making him chuckle how eager you were to be back in his presence. Bakugou instantly grabbed your empty hand again, not a single ounce of shame for how “down bad” he was acting.

“Talk to you later?”

Your voice couldn’t have been any louder than a whisper, making sure he knew these were words only for him to hear. Bakugou grinned, giving your hand a squeeze.

“Of course.”

Instead of one of your flashing smiles, your whole face softened and a small smile appeared on your face.

“In the meantime then, I’ll definitely be writing a song.”

That’s when Bakugou realized there was no coming back from you. He was officially obsessed, never wanting anything more than your hand in his.

Unfortunately for him, the two of you were rudely interrupted by the dumbass that got him here in the first place (not that Bakugou is complaining). Todoroki loudly coughed, making you jump and him scowl.

“I see you’re in good-“ his heterochromia eyes looked down at Bakugou and your interlocked hands, and then looked back up at Bakugou with a smirk.

“Good hands?”

Yeah, Bakugou definitely got teased for the rest of the day, and soon the rest of the week by all the people half-and-half told. But honestly? Bakugou couldn’t give two shits when had you texting him all day.

Besides, they were just jealous.

Kaminari and Mina especially lost their shit, begging for him to tell them all about you, even asking for your number. Obviously, Bakugou kindly told them to stop asking (he told them to fuck off and mind their fucking business) and soon enough the two of you began dating.

It was so easy being with someone like you. The two of you worked so well together, and you already understood the pressure of paparazzi constantly swarming you like hawks. Crazily enough, the reveal of you guys dating didn’t release until after your one year. Of course there were plenty of news articles and random fans on the internet who speculated it, but you interacted with enough people for your fans to also say you were dating them as well. Besides, the idea of you, an international singer/songwriter dating the number two hero in the world was not something that people could believe easily. But it was the truth, and people everywhere went crazy when you posted a picture of the two of you.

It was the picture of Bakugou picking you up by the waist in his kitchen. You were wearing his shirt and some random sweats because you had just gotten home from a concert the night before. Ochako was the one able to capture this beautiful moment of the couple. You had been teasing him for being able to cook but not bake, and he had enough of your jokes and simply picked you right off your feet. In the picture the both of you were smiling widely, especially Bakugou. When you posted the picture, fans analyzed the picture like crazy.

Bakugou knew he wasn’t the most well liked Pro-Hero, but the amount of people who tried to make a video showing the picture and claiming it was “obvious” that he was abusing you was a little annoying. You always reassured the blond when you caught him watching those videos, turning off his phone and climbing in his lap. His hands happily making his way on your waist as you ran your fingers through his hair while the other hand held his face gently. His eyes would close and you would whisper sweet nothings in his ear, praising him for anything and everything, sometimes even singing the songs you wrote for him.

Bakugou still remembers when the two of you were almost a year into the relationship (ten months and 6 days to be exact) and in the mist of him casually scrolling on TikTok a video of you performing at your concert popped up. He was certainly surprised to see videos already posted, since the concert had quite literally just ended. Obviously he watched the video, adoring how you talked to your fans.

“Now children, calm down so I can talk. I am not gonna talk over your borderline screaming, there’s no way in hell I’m gonna be able to sing after this if I talk like that.”

Bakugou snickered. He always loved when you were sassy and continued to watch.

“So whilst on tour, I’ve had a song stuck in my head,” the crowd went wild, probably thinking you were going to play one of your songs called “stuck in my head.” Your face lit up in realization, and you laughed at the mistake you made.

“Oh my poor babies, I’m so sorry but I am not playing that song.”

You gave your crowd an apologetic smile as they booed you. Bakugou’s eyebrows furrowed, upset as to why you were being booed, but continued to watch nonetheless.

“Oh my gosh get over yourself,” you rolled your eye waiting for the crowd to settle down before starting up again.

“I had like, this chorus just repeating itself over and over again. It was so annoying y’all! I felt like I was going crazy! And what made it even more annoying is that I couldn’t go to my safe place and sit down and write it cus-“

You gestured to your surroundings.

“-I’m on tour.”

The crowd went wild for longer than Bakugou liked, but you let them get it out, shaking your head like you were disappointed but the smile gave you away.

“Instead I had to settle with my oh so very empty tour bus bed, and write the song there. It was literally like, what? 3AM? And I was sitting on that bed with my guitar, notebook, and my laptop. I’m so glad I wasn’t sharing or like in a hotel because I was up until 5…”

You bent over to laugh, and the audience as well. Meanwhile, your now very grumpy boyfriend was about to close the app and text you not to do shit like that. You put on full fledge concerts for crying out loud! You should not be staying up that late just to write a goddamn song.

“And that was last night.”

The concert booed as Bakugou’s patience started to thin. What the hell were you thinking? You even texted him goodnight at like 2! Rest is very important and you need to-

“But I’m glad that I did, because I think this is my new favorite song. And I just can’t wait anymore, so is it okay if I play it for you guys?”

The crowd literally went feral. The person recording was screaming along with every goddamn person at that place. Bakugou was now fully sitting up in his bed, eager to listen to this song. He was a little hurt, he will admit. You always send him a video of the many songs that you write sporadically on this tour, and you’ve written a lot. So why didn’t you do the same thing here? What was so different about this song that he couldn’t be the first to hear it like usual?

“That sounds like a yes,” you reached for one of the many necklaces you were wearing and pulled out a very thin necklace with a familiar pendant. Bakugou immediately recognized it, as it was the one he got for you on your six month anniversary. It was one of the petals of a rose that you saved from your first date. He had it dried and put into a charm of a necklace when he noticed you getting upset that you couldn’t keep the flowers he got you. When he gave it to you, tears were falling down your face as he kissed you. That’s when he swore to himself that if he met any of your exes he wouldn’t leave without giving them a brand new scar.

You pulled it out and kissed it gently, before whispering into it.

“This is for you baby.”

Bakugou’s eyes widened, the crowd losing their minds and you started playing guitar. The two of you would make the smallest hints that you were in a relationship, but never as bold as this. Not that he was complaining.

Secretly he had been wanting to let the public know that you were dating, he wanted everyone to know you were his and he was yours. He was honestly sick of seeing people “ship” him with extras and he especially hated when the same happened to you.

He’s good for my heart but he’s bad for business

Tears me apart when he grants my wishes

All of my friends think I’ve gone crazy

But they don’t know me like my baby~

Bakugou remembers that moment like it was yesterday. His face instantly blossomed a bright blush, and his lips formed a soft smile. The crowd finally settled down after the beginning and he was able to listen to the song, closing his eyes pretending like he was there in the audience. He put the phone up to his ear and laid back down, soaking up every word and every note.

He’s good

It’s bad

The best I’ve ever had

And he’s so nice

It’s sad

He ruined all my plans

And he just makes me so crazy

I know everyone sees

He’ll be the death of me

That’s how he got here, standing in a special area in your sold out venue wearing your newest merch.

And Bakugou Katsuki was terrified.


This was the first time he had come to see your concert, because last time you toured it was when your relationship was a secret. Now, he sat nervously in his chair, his colleagues on either side of him. You had given all of them tickets, making sure they had the best seats in the house but also allowed them to not be disturbed by fans.

Bakugou was bouncing his leg, picking at his fingernails as he watched the crowd. It seemed that nobody knew they were there, everyone waiting in anticipation of your show. Your music was so diverse, everyone knew that it would contain all sorts of emotions and energies. You were the type of performer who liked to be as close to the audience as possible, you loved adding commentary to your songs during the pauses, making faces, and dancing around. You loved to have fun, and let loose. When you got the green light to plan the tour, you were practically bouncing off the walls of your now shared home. You spent three months planning it, which was a new record for you, before announcing. However, there was just one thing that Bakugou didn’t like about the tour.

He knew absolutely nothing about it. In fact, you made sure of it. Hiding your notebook, changing your laptop’s password, making sure your manager didn’t tell him shit about it. That’s why he was terrified. His partner, his very famous singer/songwriter of a soulmate was about to do the very first night of the tour in Japan and Bakugou didn’t know a thing.

That’s why Bakugou Katsuki was terrified.

Soon enough, the lights began to dim, and people started to stand up. A hush fell over the crowd as the venue blacked out, and the wrist bands on everyone’s wrists lit up.

“Holy shit it’s happening.” Kaminari whispered to Bakugou, grin spreading across his face.

Ochako, Kaminari, and Mina happily took the evening off to see you, while the rest of your invites weren’t able to. Kirishima made Bakugou promise at least one photo of the two of them after the show.

A soft hum came out of the speakers, and suddenly a spotlight appeared to reveal you standing at the very far back of the stage. The crowd went insane, and you walked down the stage.

When it came to your outfits, you always had to keep it comfortable. You loved to jump around dancing, sometimes fall to your knees dramatically. You especially loved to squat. Jumping around in that position and when you stood up you always made sure to flaunt the ass that you worked very hard on in the gym.

You came out strutting down the stage in very baggy and flowy black pants and a very cropped black long sleeve sweater that allowed you to show off the lace bra that went down to your belly button. But that wasn’t where it stopped, nor was it the best part of your outfit. To Bakugou’s surprise you were wearing boots with an obnoxiously thick heel, that were very obviously Dynamite themed.

Bakugou smirked at the sight, taking in the rest of the little details of your outfit. You wore a giant ring on your index finger that was also Dynamite inspired, as a fan gave it to you, and Bakugou could see his initials sewn into the bottom of your sweater.

You stopped at the end of the runway, pulling the microphone away from your face in a dramatic motion. You slowly looked around, taking in your crowd. A smile spread across your face, and when your gaze looked straight forward to look for Bakugou, he made sure to make little sparks from his hands to let you know he was right here. You pointed at him with the finger that had the Dynamite ring on it, and Bakugou honestly felt like it was just you and him in the stadium. You mouthed an ‘I love you’ at him, and Bakugou was now ignoring the new roar from the audience.

“You guys should get married already.” Mina whispered in Bakugou’s ear, and instead of blowing her face up, he just smiled, still looking in your direction.

“I plan on it.”

The first song you sang was one of your oldest ones, which also happened to be a much slower and sadder song. Instead of listening to the grim lyrics (not because they were bad, just because Bakugou hated to remember how bad some of your relationships were and didn’t want to get angry) the hero closed his eyes and listened to your voice. He wanted to take in his environment and all the notes you sang. The song started to drift off midway, which confused Bakugou. His eyes suddenly snapped open when he heard your newest song, which was much more upbeat. He watched you jump in the air and sing the song with much more passion than the original version. The crowd recovered quickly from the switch up and was singing along happily.

You sang a couple more of your newer and upbeat songs, making sure to add new notes to them and even belt a couple of notes to get the crowd excited. You were having so much fun, and Bakugou had never seen you look more alive. This is where you belonged, and he wanted to be right here every time watching.

There was a pause for you to sit down at the edge of the runway. You sat criss-cross, and much closer to the audience for Bakugou’s liking. He always got nervous when you reached out for a fan’s hand, scared that they would do something that could hurt you.

Thankfully, that hadn’t ever happened, and you sat very cutely waiting for the audience to quiet down so you could speak.

“Wow. We’re halfway through already? Well, I think we all know what that means…”

You cocked your head to the side, and a soft piano started to play a familiar rhythm.

“Ladies, gentlemen, and everything in between, get out your tissues. It is now time to remember why you are no longer dating your ex, and for you to be reminded that your trauma isn’t just a thing that makes you funny.”

The crowd screamed, but almost immediately stopped when you began to sing in a much softer and lower register than before. As depressing as these songs may be, Bakugou firmly believes that these types of songs bring out the best in your voice. It allows you to challenge your breath control, and truly sing with so much passion and emotion.

A couple of songs pass, and Bakugou finds you when the stage gets lit up again. You’re in the middle of the runway, standing with your head down waiting for the band to begin. As soon as the piano starts, the crowd screams and yells. This is one of your all-time most popular songs, it was the one that caught a lot of people’s attention and boosted your popularity. Funnily enough, you actually hated this song because you wrote it in high school, so Bakugou was surprised to see you preform it.

“Is this Sick of Losing Soulmates?” Ochako yelled, because of the screaming of your audience.

Bakugou turned to her and confirmed her suspicions, making Mina and Kaminari start screaming along with the audience (as they were doing the entire time).

Bakugou watched as you began to sing, and noticed how you really got into it. You added a lot more dramatic pauses before certain lines, and even speaking some of the lyrics, making it feel more like anger than sadness.

Yeah, I’m sick of losing soulmates

Won’t be alone again

I can finally see you’re as fucked up as me

So how do we begin?

At one point, you laid down on your back, reaching for the sky as you sang your heart out, and Bakugou noticed you choking up a bit at certain lyrics.

We will grow old as friends

I've promised that before, so what's one more in our grey-haired circle, waiting for the end?

Time and hearts will wear us thin

So which path will you take, 'cause we both know a break does exactly what it says on the tin

The song soon ends, and your last pose has you on your knees, head looking down at the floor. The stadium goes pitch dark, including the wrist bands, before they light up again along with your stage. Bakugou sees you wipe a tear off your cheek, and you sit there once more taking in your fans that take the chance to start chanting your name. You put your lips together, closing your eyes and putting your hands on your heart. Your eyebrows are furrowed and Bakugou can tell you’re still crying. In that moment he wanted nothing more than to go to you and hold you, wiping away your tears and replacing them with tender kisses.

You open your eyes, putting the mic back to your mouth and the audience quiets down in order to let you speak.

“Oh boy, I am so overwhelmed by emotions. I mean that was the song that started it all right?”

The crowd was still practically silent, as you’ve trained them well. You get off your knees and get into a more comfortable sitting position (criss-cross of course) and continue.

“I used to absolutely loath that song, because I wrote that when I was at my lowest. I was so sick and tired of love, having to try again over and over again. Every relationship that ended seem to break a piece of me off, and I was honestly starting to give up.”

You let out a broken chuckle, putting your free hand over your eyes momentarily before starting again.

“But then I met Katsuki, in which he literally crashed into my life.”

The crowd stayed silent, but Bakugou could tell they wanted to start screaming. You were not looking at him, and to his surprise Bakugou felt a tear run down his cheek.

“Three years of paradise. I’ve always had a fear of losing you, but it especially hits when I sing songs like that.”

There was a pause, and suddenly Bakugou felt like he was back in that studio where he met you. Staring at you and falling in love all over again.

“I love you baby, forever and always.”

Bakugou smiled, and all that fear that was with him before left. You were his and he was yours, and that’s all that he needed.

“I love you too,” he whispered, and you knew.

Bakugou Katsuki was no longer terrified.

╰── ⋅ ⋅ ─ ✩ ─⋅ ⋅ ──╯

none of the songs quoted are not mine!!! the first one is “Bad for Business” by Sabrina Carpenter, and the second one is “Sick of Losing Soulmates” by dodie

i hope you enjoyed bc boy oh boy i did

literally took me 4 hours to write but i couldn’t pull myself away from the keyboard

i rlly need to start writing other characters for x readers but oh well

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugo mha #bakugou katsuki x reader #singer! reader x bakugou katsuki #sobbing #my hero academia #mha #whew #this one is a biggin #definitely got a little too into it #but oh well #i couldn’t get this out of my head so #love love love

[rukia-writes]

Zeus x human! Reader

Warnings: 18+, no minors 🔞, rough sex, nudity, cussing, dirty talk, pregnancy.

A/N: I got lazy 🤧 and said headcanons.

🌿There was a time gods and humans were close. Being ruler of the cosmos Zeus heard about Adam being expelled from the garden of Eden decided to check and see how things were going on earth.

🌿There wasn’t anything else to do at the moment, why not?

🌿From what Zeus could gather from disguise as a eagle; Adam had been a little busy over the years as the kids running around were the giveaway. Zeus noticed a few older ones; two brothers. Not interested but noted.

🌿Zeus eventually noticed a young woman with the two brothers; wearing nothing but fig leaves and leaf vines. Zeus was interested.

🌿(Name) was Adam and Eve’s first daughter and definitely cherished. Zeus could tell and as a relatively young god himself he wanted to introduce himself. So, Zeus waited until she was by herself in the apple orchard that Adam planted to introduce himself.

🌿With one thing leading to another, and with a young Zeus charm and silver tongue, the two keep their relationship a secret, Zeus calls it a just me and you space. Zeus visits earth whenever he can and when he visits he always brings (Name) whether, it’s a necklace or clothes for the harsh winter or even flowers.

🌿the longer this continues they both fall in love with Zeus able to convince his sweet (Name) (with that silver tongue of his) to move away from Adam. He’s not scared of Adam but because he’s precious to (Name) he doesn’t want to have hurt anyone if they get in his way. (I promise he means well)

🌿Always calls (Name) princess, sometimes it’s other nicknames; sweetie, sunshine, honey, babe. But 90% of the time it’s princess.

🌿So when Adam sees his daughter after many years with a whole army of kids and (Name) holding a baby in her arms he’s in awe on the inside but calm on the outside as a group of kids (with familiar thick eyebrows) crowd around calling him grandpa. Adam doesn’t even question it and just welcomes them all by carrying them in his arms.

🌿 Eve also welcomed them as well as Abel but Cain is the one who asks (Name) aloud who the father is; (Name) just says they were gifts from above.

🌿Adam: ah, they are demi gods. Still my grandchildren. (Is what Adam tells himself)

🌿Zeus keeps in constant contact with his lover and children and always provides, whether it’s new shoes or clothes, or food (brings a shit ton of food, he limits sweets because some the children have already developed strength/powers and well… you get it.)

🌿Loves all his children and when the children get a smart with their mother (As all children do) when Zeus isn’t around he’ll send a thunderbolt because he hears and knows. ⚡️

🌿 When the time comes Zeus takes care of (Name)’s soul personally; she’s special after all. If any god asks why he does it he just says he wants to make sure the souls go where they are needed before he lets the valkyries do this job.

🌿 But even as a soul he still loves his princess, keeps an eye on his descendants and knows them all.

🌿Of course when Ragnarok happens; R2 is DISCOURSE 101. because Adam sees Zeus in his older appearance and is confused because Adam remembers (Name) telling him that her lover was handsome with long blonde hair and rippling muscles; a handsome god. This guy is just old. So when Zeus admits he met (Name) in his prime;younger years when he was much handsomer god. Adam is like: 👍🏻 I’m still giving you hands.

🌿the rest of R2 is discourse since (Name) has her father and lover fighting to the death. (And we all know what happens)

It was the first time god and human came together.

The sky was dark as the stars lit up stronger than before and the small river that ran inside the cave made for a beautiful scenery.

Stories go Zeus was born in a cave, and now he was making love to his first human lover in a cave.

As slowly slid his thick cock inside his sweet (Name)’s cunt Zeus felt her tighten around his cock making him moan a loud as his hands never left her hips. Muttering, “amazing.” To himself as he believed this human felt better than any goddess he had before as Zeus had bottomed out as his whole cock was inside her now he felt amazing.

Passion and lust mixed between them as Zeus’ sped up to match his lustful feelings, (Name) had felt many emotions but nothing felt as good as the king of the gods fucking her. Zeus had a tight grip on her hips as he fucked her from behind with her hands pressed against the cave wall. Every time she said Zeus he only fucked her harder as his lust reached an all time high as he didn’t hesistate to cum inside her.

Enjoying the high of his climax and the tightness of her cunt made the god of the cosmos only want more and so for the rest of the night Zeus delighted himself inside his beautiful princess and she enjoyed every minute as well.

The next day, rather morning, Zeus decided to wake her up with a call of his own as (Name)’s toes curled with her wrapped around his waist she pulled him closer to her making her moan his name a loud on her bed, as her mind went numb (Name) felt Zeus massage her breasts. Lightly grabbing them and then releasing them, repeating in a steady motion.

“Zeus-! I think-I think-“

“It’s ok princess. Just enjoy it.”

Kissing her forehead and calling her princess (Name) felt love and passion intertwine as she felt that feeling grow more intense by the second. Zeus loved the way she tightened around his cock, the way her breasts moved and he loved the way she said his name.

One last call of Zeus’ name she reached her limit, her first climax, a feeling that was both sweet and exciting. Kissing her cheek Zeus as he gave several lust filled thrusts before reaching his own euphoric climax, tightly holding her hips in placed as he filled her cunt to the brim with his cum.

“Amazing, simply amazing my princess.”

Kissing each other two felt like the only one in the world and the fun wasn’t over yet. The next few days were a blur to (Name) as she constantly rode the godfather’s cock, wanting nothing more than to feel him inside her and of course Zeus didn’t deny her once.

Not at night when the two were supposed to be asleep.

The two couldn’t stay away from each other, Zeus always wanted a partner that matched his sexual libido in the bedroom and he found that in (Name). Zeus enjoyed sex and he enjoyed many positions with (Name), eating her out was his favorite thing as he enjoyed licking and sucking her clit and licking her cunt as he held her thighs.

Several times Zeus forgot about his meetings and barely made them. Even as quick as he was it was close and yet no one seemed to mind since he did show up. When the day came that (Name) was pregnant with his child he was overjoyed and excited as he twirled her around in the air and hugged her close to him.

Zeus was sure his descendants would reign for thousands of years, his princess was so sweet and kind and with his strength and might surely it would be so.

For she was his princess and always would be.

🎀Rukia-Writes🎀

#Zeus x reader #ror x reader #record of ragnarok x reader #shuumatsu no valkyrie headcanons

[dizzycloudzzz]

Shrek AU?????

I just watched Shrek and some spirit possessed me to do this

OKAY *inhale*

It's on the Boiling Isles buuut in the Deadwardian Era, as if they were ancestors of the current Gus, Hunter and Willow

Does that make sense? Of course it does

Let's change the term "ogre" in the story to "Grimwalker", so this Hunter here is living isolated from witches and Belos, a Golden Guard who escaped and discovered the truth and now just wants to live his own life in peace and A L O N E, so he maaaay have forged his own death and then maintaining the lies that he was some zombie or spirit when one or two witches saw him in the forest and were called crazy for that

-

And then we have Augustus Porter, running away from a group of annoying witches who were calling him "Donkey" 'cause of the size of his very cute ears and dirtying him with abomination magic, just bullies being bullies

He ran so much until he bumped into one person, and the group of witches behind him also stopped running when they saw who

That guy certainly hasn't slept for a few past lives and not even had found no one alive since WHO KNOWS, and it wasn't even a pleasant surprise

It was just like: eye contact, children screamed when they saw that the legend of "the Golden Guard being alive and cursing anyone who entered the forest" was true partially, and then he walked away, remembering why he didn't like people that much

"new best friend", Gus decided and followed Hunter around like a small but endless source of curiosity and questions

Hunter tried to walk faster, pretend he was deaf or mute, just ignore

Nothing functional, soon he gave in, NOW THEY WERE DONKEY AND DORK UNBEATABLE DUO

Nah, not yet, Hunter was just making up something to distract Gus, trying to scare him by telling him that the legend (that he himself had spread) is true and he was a danger and GUS WASN'T PAYING ATTENTION HE THOUGHT IT WAS SO COOL THAT HE WAS MEETING A LIVING LEGEND

"... you would be SO popular if you showed up to everyone!!!!"

"ew. why would I want that."

He really didn't want anyone much less Belos to know he was living there hidden near a Palistrom tree, and the idea of ​​being known was not attractive to him, he had just invented those rumors about "stealing their souls and bile" so that people would NOT want to know about him, but the plan backfired, now he's famous

And while he and Gus were talking, a crowd gathered around the Palistrom tree/Hunter's home and surrounded the two, not exactly friendly as they trapped Hunter with magical vines and then trapped Gus as well when he tried to save his friend in vain

-

There was monarchy before Belos, Willow's dads ☝️

Gus and Hunter were taken to their castle and it was a relief to know that they actually wanted to ask for help

They told the sad story that their daughter, the princess of the Islands, had been trapped for years in a tower surrounded by the boiling sea and with a Selkidomus guarding the entrance and preventing anyone from saving her 'cause she mistook Willow for one of her babies lol

and no one was able to save her, but Hunter could!!!!!

"you've already tried the most powerful witches on the island and now you're sending me to die there too?"

"aren't you already dead?"

"... touché. I go, but uhhhhh prohibit entry into Palistrom Forest"

"why??"

"'cause they are... deforesting... and in a few years there will be a shortage..?"

"makes sense. we have a deal then"

"can I go rescue the princess too? and get free passage to the forest as a reward?"

Hunter said no, the kings said yes, Gus only heard yes

And they walked a loooong way to get to the beach, being able to see the tower in the distance in the middle of the boiling sea as if it were a small island

Hunter tested getting close to the water, not hesitating to put his hand in there and notice that he didn't burn himself, Grimwalker advantages

Gus created a boat of abomination so himself can float to the tower along with Hunter who just went on his own, being received by an angry Selkidomus out of distrust but who was quickly tamed by an illusion-spell mixed with beast keeping magic from Gus that made her believe that they were also her babies, letting them pass and enter (The "heroes" that were sent earlier were trying to fight the poor Selkidomus, a waste of time)

"it was more easy with you"

"I did nothing"

"I would do nothing either if I were alone, thanks for the moral support"

"I still feel useless... but you're welcome..?"

NOW they're bros, and meet the third future member of the inseparable trio

-

Willow is a Grimwalker too, obviously, she wears contact lenses both to be able to see without needing glasses and to change the magenta color of her eyes to green

She wasn't exactly expecting to be saved (when they arrived, she was trying to escape) but was relieved when she saw the two coming to get her out of there

As they were on the boat heading back to the sand, Hunter noticed Willow touching and playing with the water while they were on the boat and thought about warning her about the obvious fact that it was boiling, but she didn't seem to be affected so he stayed quiet

Gus and Willow? Instant friends, she enjoyed being treated like something other than royalty and liked having someone to talk to after so long

Hunter just like to listen them, during that long journey he discovered himself as a great listener

And they weren't so bad, he didn't hate them, in fact, he liked the company, a little

-

And so we have in a hasty summary:

Willow giving a little lesson to the jerks who bullied Gus before and being named the coolest of the group without needing even an ounce of magic, CAMPS, Everyone venting about their traumas, Huntlow moment with them cutting each other's hair after an accident and talking about his scars and her broken crown, Gus being a brat but a great cupid for them, Flowers and fruit and backhanded compliments 'cause Hunter doesn't know how to flirt

AND theeeeen

"c'mon! you like him and he DEFINITELY likes you too, he's pretty obvious! what's so complicated about that?"

"that would never work, donkey! how could anyone like someone who isn't even a real witch?! a real person? this is not natural..."

Willow was talking about herself, trying to pretend she didn't care, AND GUESS WHO LISTENED?? YEAH HUNTER IS NOT OKAY NOW

-

Another summary:

Discussion and separation, Willow was like Elsa singing "For the First Time in Foreveeeer" and trying to focus on being in the present, back at the castle, to the role of princess and... Without her friends, Hunter just wanted to go back to being a lone wolf but obviously Gus wouldn't let him, he clears up the misunderstanding, Hunter discovers she's a Grimwalker too, another little argument before they sort themselves out and HOOOLD HANDS and then group hug

They keep meeting in the Palistrom forest as a sacred place for them and as if the rest of the world doesn't exist and they don't have to worry about anything while they are together, just being free and having fun and being young

YAY HAPPY ENDING!!!!!

wait, has it been 22 years since Shrek released? ☠️

#the owl house #toh #fanart #au #shrek au #toh au #hunter toh #willow park #gus porter #huntlow #I dunno how I wrote all this in minutes #emerald trio

[youlikefanficdontyousquidward]

RECOMe again?

The reader must navigate interacting with their fellow recoms despite having betrayed them as a human! Does anyone know their secret?

Chapter 1, 2 3

Notes: Y/N (Your name), Y/LN (Your last name), na'vi dialogue in bold, fic will contain swearing, violence, IN THIS CHAPTER body horror imagery, smut

If there are any specific triggers people would like warned for let me know (^・ω・^ )

Eventual miles x reader, with some lyle x reader and a lil zdog x reader

Cannon divergence time (⌐■_■)

Tag list: @buzzing-honeybee @lazyassmermaid @secretflowerobservation @hihhasotherfixations @perseny @ratchetprime211 @symptoms-of-moonlight @totesnothere04

Chapter 4

You took the last watch, ears perking and swiveling to every noise of the slowly rising forest around you. It was peaceful, watching everyone's chests rise and fall. It lulled you into a state of relaxation only broken with the twigs snapping around you. You spied large beetles climbing the trees, iridescent bodies reminding you of the patterns on the belt of a na'vi child you met with Grace. Perhaps that's what it'd been made of? You remembered the meeting fondly, the child was as tall as you and wanted to talk. You'd spoken far less na'vi at the time and could barely understand the gist of what they'd said but it'd been sweet. They'd taken your hand in there's touching things and naming them with you. You'd repeated best you could but they'd ended up getting frustrated and they'd braided a section of your hair to pass the time instead. Lyle had disapproved when you'd made your way back to the chopper, saying it looked stupid. You'd kept their beads, somewhere now rotting in the corpse of the old RDA base. You hoped you could collect them one day.

When the sun rose you woke the others. Before long you were trekking out again into the dense forest. Spider had taken a spot next to you bounding along with far more energy than you could ever muster. How he managed to keep stride with everyone was incredible, years of practice you imagined.

His attitude surprised you. Jake had always struck you as a deeply caring man and the idea that this child had felt lacking under his roof bothered you. Maybe he'd been raised by someone else? He raced forward to your Colonel now, looking agitated by something.

Quaritch remained strange towards you. You hadn't spoken since the chopper out but he'd started watching you again. Mainly when Spider was with you, something unreadable in his expression. You'd have thought it was suspicion due to Spider's sudden closeness but his gaze still returned to you when the kid was beside him.

It hadn't been this way before you'd been copied. You'd been getting along famously, despite your secret allegiance swap. He'd smile at you and greet you in the halls, even brought you a coffee when you'd been working later together. None of the current tension that seemed to burn between you now.

You tried not to dwell on it, nostalgia for your past with him would do neither of you any good long term. You'd been thinking of ways out of this since you'd landed. Spider's air mask contained a tracker so any escape attempt would be quickly foiled. So you'd need to find a way to get another mask and swap them before any attempt. You'd hoped you'd swing past the shack again but the trail Quaritch was taking seemed to veer away from it. You'd scanned the maps for abandoned mining locations, there were a few dotted around the area but none close enough to the route planned.

The trail seemed to abruptly end. The forest floor suddenly growing thick with turquoise lichen, all other plant life suffocated by it. The trees too were different, not the brown ragged bark littered with vines and small flowering plants. Ahead the trees were pale, almost smooth, thin ridges climbing up and up into a canopy so far above you could barely make it out. All you could tell was it was thick, blocking almost all the sun light of the day. Even so the tell tale bioluminescence was absent. Only thin beams of light seemed to cut through in almost uniform circular shapes, like the light cast at the bottom of a pool but dead still. As you shifted from foot to foot you could see the 'trees' followed the same uniform structure. They were equally distant from each other, forming what looked more like massive columns of some huge forgotten temple.

Just looking into the gloom made the hair stand up on the back of your head. The others seemed to feel the same trepidation, tails flicking back and forth, ears flattening, a sting of anxiety burned your nose. Mansk particularly seemed on edge, almost growling at the sight ahead.

Despite this Quaritch ordered you all to continue forward. Spider still urging you all to turn back. You placed a sympathetic hand on his shoulder before walking in with him. The mossy ground beneath you felt spongy and was hard to walk across. It did light up with each footstep, casting a sickly green light into the gloom. The air in here smelt foul, stale, almost like rot. A fermenting smell, more beer than bread.

The deeper you all went the stranger you felt. Apart from your groups movements there was no other sound. The fauna of Pandora seemed not to dwell in here. More and more you felt you should follow their lead.

You stepped carefully around orange growths, that sprouted from the ground at even intervals. You remembered Grace talking about mega flora on Pandora. She'd mainly spoke of the immense 'home tree' but you were beginning to think this place might be something similar. The shapes and colours around you had put you in mind of something you'd read before about Pandora mushrooms.

Ahead Mansk tripped over the soft lichen planting face first into those orange plants. In an instant a puff of yellowish spores flew up into the air. You ears perked hearing the plant beside you expel the same substance right into your face. You coughed and sputtered backing away from the thing. All around every visible orange plant was doing the same, filling the air with a yellow fog of spores. The lessons on Pandora's connectivity flooded you, mushrooms more than any other plant shared a huge connective structure under the soil.

"Masks!?" You shouted, pulling the clothe of your jacket over your nose and mouth. You knew you didn't have anything, Prager and Zdog had pulled bandanas off and began fastening them to their faces. Mansk got up screaming and began scrambling away, sprinting off into the gloom. Lyle shouted after him following, with Quaritch and the rest not far behind.

You head swam as you tried to keep up with them. Figures doubling in your vision and swaying heavily. Their limbs distorting like fun house mirrors as you tried to focus your eyes. You felt bile rise and stopped hunching over gripping into the giving texture of the mushroom stalk.

When you lifted your head you were alone. The sound of boots gone, your own breathing sounding too loud in the sudden vacuum. You turned around in circles, trying to decide what way you'd come from and then what way the rest had headed. In your dizziness the swirling uniform columns gave nothing away, the only certainty being the mark of your hand in the 'trunk' next to you.

You held up a compass but were unable to focus on its spinning dial. Eventually you decided to just follow the direction your hand print pointed in and stumbled forward. The spongy lichen making running difficult, you swayed, swerving in a zig zag pattern,

You kept walking, yellow fog swirling around you. You tried desperately to keep your nose and mouth covered but your arms felt like lead and now hung uselessly from your shoulders. You turned, stumbling and reaching a hand out to stalk to support yourself. You hand slipping into a groove, you took your hand away staring in horror as its double stayed indented in the stalks flesh. You'd gone in a circle some how, you cried out for the others, begging someone to come to you.

"Ain't this a bitch" You head swiveled to the voice. A human form blurry and waving though your clouded eyes. As they came closer you could make more out. Your hair, your clothes, your face. It was you. A human you. You fumbled over heavy lips trying to question them.

"I did all that just for you to end up back with them. Worst part is you like it don't you." You shook your head at yourself, nauseous feeling rising in your throat again. They laughed loudly, cruelly, you felt ashamed, curling away from them.

"Don't lie you little slut! You liked fooling around with them before and you like it now. Anything for the cause right? Pathetic. I wonder if Jake and Grace knew, think they ever wondered how you got the Colonel to be so easy on you. Bet they had you figured out from day one, you little whore. Bet they were playing us like you were playing your friends"

You kept coming closer. Bones began to crack, joints popping, skin stretching beyond its limit and splitting, blood dripping down other you's face. Their elongated limbs limping their way towards you, getting bigger and bigger, until their bent broken body matched your own size. Reddened by blood their hands reached up, bones poking through like claws. Their lips split as they smiled an entirely pointy toothed smile.

"They're going to figure you out idiot! They're gonna find out and when they do... well I guess we'll be seeing one another soon." Their fangs tore their lips as they spoke, eyes leaking from their sockets as you screamed pulling away from them. You didn't know when it started, maybe you'd been screaming the whole time but you couldn't stop now.

"Go away you're not real! They won't they won't they won't" You repeated backing up until you bumped against something hard. You turned suddenly, looking up at Quaritch. His face distant, jaw slack, he looked down to meet your gaze. You swiveled back but you were gone. You whimpered, still feeling tears falling down your cheeks.

"Colonel we have to get the others and get out of here, there's something in the..." You were cut off as he grabbed your flailing hands.

"Colonel?" You sputtered out, his grip painfully tight around your wrists. His hands shifted, grabbing your shoulders, then your head, pulling you closer. His pupils were wide and his nostrils flared.

"Colonel, please that hurts!" You pleaded, his grip so tight of either side of your face it felt like your skull was going to crack. You stared into his wild eyes, a low growl escaping his throat as he leaned forward. A light musk filled your nostrils as he opened his mouth, exposing rows and rows of fanged teeth. You screamed pulling away suddenly, his grip lost, you tripped over your feet and landed on your back on the moss.

He followed you down, body hunched over yours on all fours. He stared down with intense eyes, tailing thrashing behind him. You heard the same growl rise up his throat again. Panicking you scrambled back a little, eyes never leaving his. Each shuffle back you took he matched crawling forward, keeping you close, a feverish heat radiating from him. You heard cracking behind you, fear surging and refocusing on the other you. A painful urge to check behind you surged, you couldn't risk taking your eyes off him.

"Don't..." His voice strained out of him, head lolling weakly into the crook of your neck. His thick arms caged you in on either side, his hips pinning yours, his knife jabbing into your navel. You whimpered, feeling his tongue dart out to lick the skin from your throat up to your ear. He growled into your skin, you could feel his fangs gently pushing against you, images of the rows of them from before flashing in your mind. In a sudden rush of adrenaline you swung an elbow up, connecting with his jaw. He pulled back and with the new space you scrambled up. He stayed painfully still on the ground for a second, eyes burning into yours and a little blood dripping out from between his lips. Then he was roaring and you were running.

You sprinted off into the gloom, hearing Quaritch close behind. You'd spent more time as a human in the forest and the advantage of that was only barely keeping him off you. You felt his fingers graze your queue and tail a few times, hearing your own laughter echo through the stalks. You rolled quickly round the side of a mushroom stalk, doubling back and running the way you'd came. Weaving around the stalks he seemed as disorientated as you, maybe more so. After taking a quick left you dived down, nestling yourself as tightly as you could in the stringy base of the stalk. Quaritch came sprinting past, not even looking to where you'd hidden. You held your breath, hands over your mouth as he flew further into the stalks, screaming your name as he went. He sounded mournful, losing his prey.

You stayed there a long time. You head gradually feeling clearer and clearer. There was no yellow fog of spores here and even if the air wasn't as clean smelling it was certainly not toxic. You'd never heard Grace talk about anything like this, maybe they'd discovered the area and avoided it entirely. If it did this to na'vi you could only imagine the effect on humans. SPIDER! You didn't remember where he'd ended up when everyone started running. Had he been faster and stuck with the group? You spied glowing dots making their way towards you. Suddenly fearful that the Colonel had returned still ready to kill you huddled further into the 'roots' of the stalk.

They felt odd against your bare skin, tingling slightly. Looking down you could see tiny pin like fibers jabbing into your skin. You turned your head and almost screamed. The body of hexapede, a deer like creature, was most of the way sunk into the stalk next to you. The same needles had grown against the now exposed bone as the animals skin seemed to have sloughed off in patches. You pulled away, skin stinging as you did. Slapping a hand over your mouth you watched as the deer turned and opened it's jaw in a silent scream. You scuttled behind the stalk as the murmur and lights drew closer, examining the beads of blood on your arms.

As they neared you saw Spider, Zdog and Prager with a nearly unconcious Mansk between them. Their bodies still and solid, with no hints of extra teeth. You breathed a sigh of relief, but thought twice about revealing youself just yet. What if they weren't real or if they'd turn violent. You could hear them now too, calling out for yourself and Quaritch. They all stopped suddenly, guns raising then falling. Lyle and Quaritch ran into view, sweaty and out of breath.

"I don't know where she is. I... I saw her and something was wrong. She was terrified and ran, didn't catch her." Quaritch spoke between gulping breaths. Had he been mostly an illusion? Like the other you, just something you're mind made up to frighten you? "Found this one" Lyle nodded to the group, still catching his own breath.

"She got a face full of it, if she's worse than the Colonel was..." Lyle drifted off as Quaritch shot him a glare.

"I told you it was dangerous! I told you we shouldn't..." Spider cut himself off when Quaritch turned his head to him.

"It's a toxic plant, pretty sure Mansk, y/n and yourself got the worst of it. Y/n's notes on the data pad actually have a bit from Dr Augustine's book on them. She's probably hallucinating pretty bad if she's not like this one right now" Zdog spoke, hoisting Mansk up a little. His face was pale and sweating, drool pooling out and down his chin. He looked like he needed your help now.

You came round stalk to approach, guns training on you before dropping once you came into the light.

"Christ y/n! How long were you there!" Zdog dropped Mansk's arm leaving Prager fumbling to take his full weight. She approached swiftly stopping ahead of you with raised hands. You must still look a mess, tear stained, bloodied and eyes still like saucers. A full weight of fear and adrenaline passed from you then, lunging forward into her arms you sobbed openly. She stiffened like you'd stung her before relaxing and wrapping her arms around you.

"Shhh shhh, your safe okay, whatever was out there's gone now." She soothed, rubbing circles on your back. "We've got you." You pulled back still holding her arms gently, the fuzzy feeling still with you. Her star like freckles seemed to shift and twinkle as you looked at her face. Feeling a little giddy you reached out to try catch one, they seemed to swirl under your fingers. You giggled to yourself, wondering if her tattoos were as friendly.

"Okay she's still not doing great, where'd you say that post was?" Zdog guided you over to the group, holding your shoulders as you watching the colourful patterns shift and move on her strong arms.

Prager led the group forward towards an abandoned mining post. Mansk between him and Lyle occasionally muttering to himself. The scraps of material harvested in the ground here had not been worth the dangers of the mushroom forest. This post was abandoned by the RDA and scientists a long while before you'd ever stepped off a drop shift here.

Quaritch walked closer to you for a moment, causing you to pull into Zdog's arms further. He caught this, ears drooping as he quickly walked on ahead. Zdog pulled you in closer, rubbing you shoulders as you walked together.

Spider approached too, cautiously. You reached out to smooth his hair, he smiled to you from under his mask. You'd bet it'd offered a lot more protection than your shirt had, he'd probably been the only level headed one out there. You wished he'd have taken the opportunity, headed to the post alone and escaped.

..............................................................................................................................

The garish yellow building sat in a scar on the land, large wounds stretched out in different directions. Huge quarries started but never finished. You could see the earth beneath held far more of those orange plants, connected by pulsing veins that spider webbed across the exposed dirt and stone. Several rickety rusting metal bridges reached out to the suspended building, a couple had given way and hung limply into the chasm bellow. The metal groaned as you walked across it one at a time. With the bridges jutting out and the fibrous mushroom plant tho whole place had taken on an arachnid quality that set a shiver up your spine.

There was no power, old generators rusted beyond use or needing solar to use them. The door was pulled open by Quaritch, breaking it in the process but it hardly mattered. With the amount of broken windows inside it was hardly needed to secure the place. The spores still played with your mind, making the jagged entrance look fanged and the bridges twitch like legs. Zdog's hands in yours as she walked you through the threshold, teasing that she'd carry you in if she had too.

She set you up in a medical lab with Mansk. You accessed him but other than a bloodied nose he was physically no worse for wear. Lyle stayed for a bit, helping check you and bandage your arms before wandering off to find Quaritch and Prager. Both of which seemed to dart off as soon as they'd entered the building. Mansk now slept, skin still feverish but according to the information you had there was little you could do but let him rest it off. Same for yourself, you drank great gulps of water and ate a little at Zdogs insistence.

She sat with you now as you rested in the room opposite Mansk. If he took a turn you'd hear but you felt too shell shocked to sleep just yet. Zdog seemed to understand this implicitly not leaving your side but not pushing you to speak. Instead telling stories from your RDA days. She was great like that, you'd valued her friendship in your human years and relished getting to relive it now. You'd gently probed her early on, seeing if she could be an ally to Grace and Jake but she had no love for this world, nor it's inhabitants. Damn near broke your heart at the time, still ached to think about it now.

It was nice to spend time with her again now, though your horrific doppelgangers words echoed 'you like it'. They were right, you were enjoying spending time with them all again. Worse they were right about other things, you were a slut. Zdog had been here all this time comforting you and you couldn't help but dwell on her muscular arms, her swell of breast when it'd been pressed to your side whilst she helped you walk. Worse still you smelt that musk on her now, same as with Lyle. She wanted you too.

You were stuck with what to do. In your right mind it would be a bad idea, here you were close as ever to escape so would it not be best to cut ties now. Your head still felt fuzzy though and you were lost watching her lips move as she spoke. She paused now, you let your eyes follow up to hers. She was a little flushed, a light blush reaching her ears, cute you thought to yourself. Although by her reaction maybe it'd been shared with the room.

"Uh Y/n... You sure you're good?" She reached up placing a palm to your forehead, you hummed leaning into the contact. A fresh wave of her musk hitting you, you tail swaying as you stewed it.

"You smell nice." Was all you could think to say, thoughts still swimming. Your skin felt like it was buzzing, you fidgeted in your clothes, pulling at the fabric. It felt too close, constricting.

"Y/n... Now's just not a good time okay, I'm pretty sure you're basically drunk right now. Also I'm pretty sure Lyle would be pissed right?" Zdog pulled your hands in hers stopping you from taking anything off. You grumbled, but wouldn't go further.

"Lyle and I have an understanding, it's like before, just some fun. Can I just hold you?" You whined wanting to be closer, to feel her strong arms holding you again.

"Okay but just a cuddle okay, at least till your... you again." You smiled, letting her lead you to where she was comfortable. Your head resting up in her neck, body curled against her side. Beyond the musk was Zdinarsk, her own base smell. It relaxed you now, drifting you to sleep as her long fingers scraped against your scalp.

..............................................................................................................................

You awoke to her hands still playing in your hair. You felt heat rising in your cheeks, embarrassed for having come onto her in that state.

"You up?" She questioned softly, tucking hair behind your ears to see your face better.

"Uh yeah, hi!" You smiled, propping yourself up slightly on your elbow. You felt bashful now, not quiet willing to look directly at her. You did though and she was staring back, smirking. She took your chin in between her fingers, tilting your face to her.

"How we feeling?" She said in a sing song voice.

"Like I still want to kiss you." She hummed her response, closing the distance and placing her lips to yours. She tasted sweet, like bubblegum and she kissed like you had all the time in the world to explore one another. Her soft lips molding to fit against your own, nipping your lip to get closer.

You hoped no one would come looking for you both, you didn't want this moment with her to end. She pulled you up and into her lap, her hands moving to pull your shirt off. You obliged, taking hers next. You traced the tattoos on her collar bones, leaning forward to follow them down her chest with your mouth.

She signed above you, fingers pulling in your hair. You knew all her little secrets, you knew how she liked her partners to suck at her nipples, to gently roll them between their teeth. You were careful with your sharp fangs, they'd not re pierced her na'vi body but you doubted she'd want you to now.

She moaned more, pushing a hand down between you to touch you. You gasped as she played with you, long fingers drawing moans from your lips. You pulled your head up, her vibrant eyes hooded as she smirked at you. You kissed her, running your hands down her faux hawk and tugging her head back by her queue. She hissed before catching your mouth again. She was bringing you higher and higher with expert hands. You continued best you could, nibbling at her ear, kissing her neck, lips, all between wanton moans. She wasn't a talker, her other hand tugging your hair and grabbing your hips the closest she came to encouraging you. Still you felt the familiar build up, gripping her shoulders.

"Zdinarsk!" Was all you managed before the waves of pleasure washed over you. She kissed your jaw as your muscles shook before she brought her hand up to your mouth, having you lick her fingers clean. You stared back at her, eyes locked as you slipped each digit into your mouth.

"I wanna..." Your eyes shifted down, tugging at her belt.

"Please." She understood you, laying further back and shuffling her own pants off. You knelt between her legs, running you hands down to her knee, bringing it up to begin placing little kisses leading down. The closer to her core the more open mouthed they became, before your tongue swiped the length of her. She shuddered, hand flying down to tangled in your hair again.

Roughly she pushed you to her and you began to suck and lick at her clit. Bringing a hand up to tease her entrance. She fluttered around nothing as you drew shapes onto her. Her hand eagerly pushed you further, gripping your hair. You dipped your tongue into her core, tasting her more fully. You groaned sending rumbled across her, she mewled deliciously above you. You bumped her clit with your nose, before pulling up to take her back into your mouth. You slid a finger gently inside, feeling her grip and pull you closer in. Pumping gently you added another, then a third, all the while never letting up on her.

Zdinarsk's moans got louder, her hands tugging and gripping your head. You kept the motion up, she was so close. Your fanged teeth lightly grazed her and she fell apart under you, writhing through an orgasm as you continued.

She pulled you up then, grinning at your glistening face. Kissing each cheek before pulling your forehead to hers.

"You taste good too." You smirked, she scoffed slumping her head against your shoulder and holding you closer.

"Don't make this embarrassing." She rolled her head into your shoulder. You looked up, spying Mansk now frozen in the doorway. His mouth bobbing open and shut, hands pulling up from his obvious erection to gesture wildly. Oh that bastard! Your burned, how long had he been watching? A devious smirk crossed your lips as he mouthed pleas.

"More embarrassing than having an audience?" You tease, body still hidden against Zdinarsk. Her head snapped up turning to see Mansk, who in turn chirped and ran off.

"SON OF A BITCH!" Zdinarsk screamed, scrambling to pull her top over her and chase after him. You could hear him screaming down the hall as she pursued hurling curse words and maybe her boots?

Sat alone in the after glow you laughed to yourself, but it felt shallow. A hollow feeling returning to your chest, your own voice echoing insults in your mind. The humor left you quickly as you sat alone. Human you was right, you were letting yourself be swayed by them. You'd come close to quitting before, frustrated and upset with lying to everyone you'd cared about. You'd seen what RDA would do and things were no different now, maybe worse. No sweet words from your Colonel, Zdog or Lyle could sway you, not then and not now.

On the wall air masks dangled. You eyed them, resolve crystalizing.

#quaritch x reader #miles quaritch #zdinarsk #zdog x reader #zdog #the way of water #avatar imagine #my fics #recome again

[iphig3nia]

Campus || Sebastian Sallow

“Then I see you, you’re walking across the campus, cruel professor, studying romances.”

(Modern AU! I picked his major from vibes alone, Sebastian = Major Drama Queen)

cw - none

a/n || me when I romanticize walking on campus and looking mysterious

—

Sebastian twiddles his pencil in his fingers, a string of words and code going in and out his ears.

He places the pencil down and rubs his face slowly. The energy drink seems to not be giving him the energy it so colorfully advertised. Sebastian can feel the life from his very eyes draining, his eyes are definitely glazing over. He’s barely hanging on when the professor brings the lecture to an end, shouting something about a coding project due soon.

Sebastian zips his backpack up and leaves the room along with a flurry of other students, some looking even more dead than him. Walking outside he breathes in the fresh air. The campus looks more lively this time of year, it even does some wonders for the STEM part of the university. The brutalist and modern buildings seem more happier with the budding trees and blossoms surrounding it. Walking from his computer science class, Sebastian starts the walk to the other part of campus.

You groan as you quickly exit your dorm, anxiously waiting for the elevator to come bring you down to the first level of the building. You took way too long to make yourself look cute today, but it’s totally worth it. You exit the dormitory and begin the walk to the nearly ancient building where your class meets. You admire the trees blooming with flowers and the clear blue sky. The green grass and flowers scattered around add so much beauty to the old brick buildings. With their dark green vines crawling up the side and their ionic columns looming over you. Oh fuck, did you even finish the readings for today? You sigh as you lose yourself in your thoughts.

You pass by a fountain and catch your eyes glancing at a passing student. He looks so, tired? You can’t help but make note of how cute he is. You walk past him.

Sebastian nearly chokes on his drink. Slowly turning around, watching you walk away. He has never seen a more beautiful person in his entire life. His eyes now wide awake after walking past you.

He faces forward now deep in thought. What major are you? He’s never ever seen you anywhere on the STEM side of the campus, are you a liberal arts major? He would definitely notice you if he ever saw you in his labs or computer science classes. How could he not notice you, how could anyone not notice you. How could no on except for him turn around to gaze at your beauty more?? Clearly these other students don’t have eyes, maybe that’s for the best. That means that no one else has seen you so therefore Sebastian as every right to ask you out-

“You dropped this.”

Sebastian’s breath hitches. You tap gently on his arm, trying to get his attention. He gulps and turns back around, taking a slow sip of his energy drink. You hold out his phone to him, was he really that zoned out he didn’t even see the phone drop out of his pocket? He takes it and returns it to his pocket. “Thanks..” he forces the word out of his mouth, suddenly feeling as if his throat is closing up and constricting all words and air. Sebastian is now extremely aware of how he looks: dark circles under his eyes, wrinkly shirt, sweatpants, messy hair, he’s pretty sure he shaved his beard, oh god did he even put deodorant on this morning-

“I’ll see you around then!”

You smile and wave at him, remembering you had a literature class to attend and a very stern professor.

Sebastian is absolutely mortified.

His sigh turns into a groan of annoyance. How could he be so stupid, AGAIN? Another chance to talk to you, wasted. He must’ve scared you off, his appearance definitely gave off red flags. If it wasn’t the appearance it had to have been the way he was chugging his energy drink like his life depended on it. Or maybe it was the way he didn’t even remember if he put deodorant on, or maybe you don’t like guys who use old spice. Even more worse, you probably don’t even like computer science guys. If it wasn’t the clothes it’s definitely the major that’s a red flag. He sluggishly continues walking, he’ll never find love again after seeing you. Sebastian could burst out into tears, like a dream you were gone in an instant. What cruel god has decided to play theses tricks on him!

Sebastian finds a quiet corner in the library with a table and chair. He sits down and slowly lets his head fall and hit the table.

You somehow made it to class just on time, saving yourself from a harsh fate of being pointed out by your professor. You zone out at your table, that guy earlier was pretty handsome. He had such lovely eyes, the warmest brown. If the sunlight hit them just right you’re sure the color would turn to a honey-like amber. And his freckles, they dotted his face like stars. You smile as you flip to a page in your book, not reading the words but thinking about how the boy’s hair was so floppy and so adorable. Maybe if you keep walking the same way at the same time everyday, you’ll see him again. Yes! You’re sure that’s how you’ll see him again, you’ll walk all around campus just for a chance to find him. “You okay?” You turn to your friend Poppy and smile sheepishly, speaking in a hushed whisper.

“I think, I met a boy today on campus.”

#sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow fanfiction #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow x mc #hogwarts legacy fanfic

[mathiwrites]

And for the second prompt of Day 3 of @tamlinweek: Flower Language.

Content warning: Grief, war, allusions to torture, graves/graveyards, depression and PTSD.

Read Potentillas on AO3 or beneath the cut:

Where are you?

Days, months, years have passed, and he still cannot find him. Through the thicket and into the brush, Tamlin speaks to the whispering moss and the little creatures hidden within. The smallest things carry the greatest knowledge, often unseen and unheard, but Tamlin listens.

He’s always listened.

They tell him of the eagle and the bobcat, and of the new silver lace vines that have taken root in the North. He follows the trail they lead towards all the changes of his father’s Court. Maybe today, he’ll find what he’s looking for.

White flowers on shining pale gray stems greet him, honoured to be noticed by Spring’s prince. They bloom, showing their very best side. He asks their name, and though he is kind and caring, his heart shutters with disappointment. Not here.

The forest is his home; the war has made him restless and he rejects stillness. When the body does not move, the mind begins to race, and his mind lives among the dead.

He knows every inch of this place, from the growth of the trees, to the war of the weeds. He wakes his great-grandmother from her willow, and asks if she has seen anyone new, too. The souls always come home, so why isn’t he here? He loved the forests just as much as Tamlin did. He taught Tamlin to look, to listen and to respect. The Green should have welcomed him by now.

It has been days, months and years since Tamlin failed to bring Iolin’s body home, and he will not rest until he’s found his spirit.

***

The Middle is a barren place, ravaged by war. The soil is dead, poisoned by the iron of blood and the toxicity of faebane. Few things grow here, but they do not bloom—they claw their way out of the ground, all sharp edges and dark stems. Their leaves are shades of black, gray and rotted brown.

It has been a long time since Tamlin dared to venture here, and he does so against his better judgement. Shame isolates him, making him too afraid to reach out for help in this desperate endeavour. What will his friends say when the realize his crime?

I let my brother die.

That’s it.

Tamlin knows it, his family knows it and it’s only a matter of time before everyone else knows it, too. Cold seeps into his bones, a needling sensation that only ever takes place here. He pulls his cloak closer to himself and begins the trek.

Bones litter across the ground, half-devoured by vicious plants who thrive not on sun, not on song, but on the hard calcium of the dead. His mind shutters, withering under the weight of memories. This graveyard is of his making.

But Tamlin does not sop. He never learned how to. He only ploughs forward.

Further, and further, until he reaches the western shore close to where the King had stationed his temporary palace. The air grows thick, and Tamlin has to stop.

I can’t—

I can’t do this.

He promised he would bring Iolin home; he failed the first time, and he will let this attempt kill him before he fails again. Tamlin forces himself back to his feet, and keeps walking. He remembers exactly where he collapsed, where Iolin’s body had slipped from his arms and rolled down an incline, breaking him even more than he was already broken. He was already dead by then, succumbing to Amarantha’s wrath.

He was already free by then, leaving Tamlin in this interminable hell.

The gnawing in his chest is too much; he clutches it, as if he can reach his heart and throttle it in hopes of making it work again. It keeps failing, just like his lungs that can’t ever find enough air.

Please, please, please, I don’t want to be here.

Out of the corner of his eye, a glimmer of bright yellow sings softly to him. He knows that voice, and its gentle cadence. Iolin had always been kind, even when he was hiding from his father’s harsh gaze beneath the mask of duty. Iolin had always been the one to find Tamlin when he was running from something. He was courage itself.

Tamlin picks himself out of the dirt, walking with heavy steps towards the only bloom in the heart of this hellscape.

“Potentillas,” he whispers, touching the five petals lightly. “Of course.” His voice falters, and the breath that escapes him is shaky. He sits beside his brother’s resting place, and lets the relief wash over him. Iolin had always been his safe haven.

“The flowers of resilience. Crush the petals and steep it in tea, and you’ll find strength for another day,” he recites his brother’s words back to him. “I miss you, I miss you so damn much.”

#i promise tomorrow will be less emo #probably #tamlin week #tamlin #acotar fanfiction #acotar au #pro tamlin #my fics

[atty-goldstein]

Just finished watching NPMD and here are my observations:

Oh starting right away with Richie's death

OHHHH It's the first time we actually hear Lauren and Jon sing together, even for just a lil bit

The Watcher World callback with the hammer and the phone

Every Mariah character: MY PICTURES ON MY PHONE, Me: gurl back it up on Cloud

Awwww Ruth

That one person who cheered louder than anyone else when Pete stood up for himself

Everyone collectively going "awww" when Pete shows up with the black eye

The Chasitys have such a cute color scheme. Would wear. But like. Mark's outfit has such gay vibes tho. Like. Stereotypical gay outfit.

Pfft that one person who cackled the Loudest during the dinner scene

Max, climbing in the tub with his jeans on: *vine voice* He's washing him and his jeans. He's washing him and his jeans.

Oh Mark showing up after Dirty Girl is literally like that scene with Hanschen during My Junk in Spring Awakening.

LISTEN. About two years ago, I was watching SAF and my dad looked over my shoulder AND HE THOUGHT JOEY WAS LIN MANUEL MIRANDA

Max: I'm gonna kick your ass!, Me: *Ted voice* Not his head

Wait. But his reaction to the prank is so wholesome and precious actually.

Gurl. Just let it stay an accident and destroy the footage instead. Don't be stupid.

I remember saying Bryce as Brenda. Glad that it happened.

Hatchet Town is basically just "Your Fault" from Into the Woods huh

Pete and Ruth sound a lot like Scrags and Esther ngl

I love Kyle. Himbo dude.

The shift when Clivesdale is introduced.

The way everyone also awwed when Richie got appreciated. I don't think a show goes by without Jon's character being loved

It's interesting that the hs kids don't want to be mean and aren't inherently mean, they were just pressured into being mean

Ohhh. He got bedazzled. Like Edward Cullen.

I want the cast recording so I can hear Jon and Will sing at each other more clearly

Boy Jerry's a reporter? I mean sure, I assumed they have jobs when it's off-season for camp, but I didn't expect journalism

What does Bryce's character know about Boy Jerry's murder spree tho?

Everyone's talking about Boy Jerry throwing Girl Jeri under the bus, but not Dan agreeing with Boy Jerry in accusing Donna

Hatchet Town is just Your Fault from Into the Woods huh

Steph protecting Ruth parallels Steph looking after Hannah

hc that Joey's character in the bbq monologues is whoever played Joey's roles in the Hatchetfield production of TTO

Jon's delivery ohmygod lmaoooo

Oh and Mariah's character, Caitlyn/Kaitlin, feels like a mini Zoey

Ruth sweetieeee you are so brilliant

Ruth having a mushroom on her shirt like the "I'm a failure" meme

The way they pull off Max's teleportation is so so good

Kim is the queen of horrified screams now

YESSSS HE SAID THE MIRANDA RIGHTS he ain't got a warrant tho

Considering tgwdlm was 2018, and it's 2023 now, then it HAS been FIVE YEARS since Peter asked for his hot chocolate from Emma

GARY PUPPY PAID ATTENTION WHEN HE HEARD PAUL. Because of he still recognizes Jon.

Pfft Paul having more balls than Pete

Okay it's vague enough that it can be interpreted that Paul doesn't die. I didn't think Emma would do the Linda screech tho. It's always enough to startle and disorient tho.

THE COSTUMES THE COSTUMES I LOVE THE COSTUMES

Oh I have a theory behind what Tinky says. But it's going in a separate post

The LiBs going "WE DON'T WANT YOUR PHONE"

In Once Upon a Time, it is customary to give up "the thing you love most" in exchange for extremely powerful magic.

Ahahaha as a Catholic I can confirm that Grace's opinion on Catholicism is mostly correct

I feel like if Pete did die, it would prevent him from turning into a horny bastard like Ted tho. Which may potentially save him from Tinky

And Pete letting himself get shot to save the woman he loves, would parallel Ted's sacrifice in Ape Man

That one person who very audibly goes "WHAT THE FUCK" when Max takes the bullet for Pete

Grace saying her type is dudes who come back from the dead. And I'm like. "AND THEY'RE BOTH RIPPED AS FUCK"

Annnd now the tables have turned on Joey after eating Sally out in the choir room.

Aaaat least she can't get knocked up?

Where'd she get that cigarette tho

The hair flip that accompanied the spin

GARY PUPPY CUDDLED UP TO THE LAPTOP WHEN HE HEARD WIGGLY

Kim's teacher character is so cute

The "awwww" when Pete and Steph came to homecoming together. Also Pete's bow tie will always match whatever Steph's wearing

Are we all in agreement that Jon and Will's homecoming characters are dating?

Grace. YOU ASKED.

Hmm. A soul-sucking spell especially targeting guys? Sounds like what Sheila had.

"Guys who came before"? Who else did she hook up with between the ghost's death and homecoming?

It's the return of Angela's iconic witch laugh

But Grace how long is that gonna work out for you. You gonna eventually use contraception? Have magic contraception? Or eventually get knocked up? Just sayin'

#starkid #npmd #npmd spoilers #nerdy prudes must die spoilers #nerdy prudes must die

[youareabird]

Prologue

3 Years prior.

Contrary to popular belief, people don't chalk up to what they say. Families break, friendships fade, and lovers weep. When you're younger, your life is filled with belief, thinking nothing can go wrong. Once in awhile, your innocence fades. When it does, it hits you like a truck.

I was ten when I realized life truly sucked, never thinking life would turn out the way it did. I thought my family was forever, never-ending in hard times. My mother died when I was born, childbirth is a wild thing to do when not one person in the room has experience. She died from blood loss, pushing a four pound baby out of your body while malnourished will do that. Sometimes I think I can hear her soft voice singing in the distance, guiding me and being there for safety. Truth was, I didn't know her. Never heard her voice or saw color in her face.

I don't think I gained consciousness until I was seven, not having any memory before that age. My father told me stories. Ones about the blazing city lights, horns honking from small cars, the noises from the zoo; not all of them were positive. But most were. He'd try to strike fear in my little heart, telling me about the homeless people on the corner. their pleas for money and housing on the side of the streets. Ones about the tragic history of our world, and how no one was the same.

My feet scrambled through the wooded path, branches and vines intertwined into the dirt below. My shoes were dirty. You could barely see the vibrant colors of my shoelaces as they were nothing but brown. Tall trees surrounded my body as I ran, dodging branches and trunks as I went. I could hear heavy footsteps behind me, thumping loudly with the weight of the person. Glancing behind my shoulder, I made eye contact with my dad. His dark eyes were clouded with anger as he ran after me, sunlight hitting his face ever so often to lighten his eyes.

We were in a smaller town before, one that was surrounded by the forest. We thought it would be safe, with the natural born fence surrounding us. But while we were raiding a house, a loud shriek sounded from nearby. Shaking the house as if an earthquake met our bodies. He wrapped his arm around my neck, pulling me down to the ground as his hand met my mouth. His grip tightened around me at every small movement I made, causing the airflow to shortly cut off. I could feel my face begin to turn blue as we waited for anymore signs of life to reach our ears. It was quiet, shrieking subsided as we sat on the dirty floor. His hold didn't loosen. My head began to become dizzy, hands scratching at his arms for release. It wasn't until I opened my mouth, landing my teeth sharply into his hand. My elbow reached his ribs as I bit down, causing him to harshly let go. I made him mad with my movements, his face was contorted and red. Hands reaching out to grab me as I got up quickly.

I was too quick.

Running in between trees, the air around me smelled fresh. The smell of rainfall inching closer with each step I took. The panting of my dad grew quieter as the adrenaline kicked in, if I let him catch me. I would die. Our relationship has never been good, always fighting. He blamed me for the death of my mom, his wife, his everything. I don't know what he expected, having a child in this world. The chances of me surviving at birth and my mother was slim, let alone anyone surviving in this world.

We'd been on the move every single day, looking for a safe place to settle down. We only found that place once, it was our haven. I still remember it, the quiet structure of the house. the sound of only birds and wildlife surrounding it, it was abandoned when we found it. Tore apart and breaking. We thought we could restore it, build a fence and live a normal life. It was our fault for believing that.

I cant really remember what happened the night we left, the delirium of being half asleep and terrified. I remember shots being fired, the ringing filling my ears, causing distortion. Shrieks and clicks filling the air the longer we stayed. We barely made it out. I still remember the dark cloudy sky, the way my fathers hands held me with such care. Grass gliding its way through my fingertips as he ran. The last thing I heard was the panting of his breath as he gasped for air. His lungs probably burned from the running, but I couldn't think of the rest. That was the last time he cared.

Rain began to pelt down from the sky, covering my skin in wetness. The trees were thinning out, meaning there a break coming up. My legs carried me on auto pilot, I lost my dad a little bit ago but he was probably still on his way. Making it to the edge of the trees, I continue to sprint. The ground caved before me making me tumble down a long hill. Rolling down the large slope for what felt like minutes, the ground finally leveled out. 

I landed on my back, my lungs being winded from the tumble. Soft rain hit my face as I stared into the sky. It was cloudy, the tears of the gods drumming onto the land with no hesitation. Letting out a loud groan, I slowly sat up. The soreness coming from my ribs indicated bruising would occur. "Ilene!" a voice boomed, causing birds to retreat from their safe spots. Tilting my head up, I peered at the top of the long hill. 

There he stood. My father, my flesh, my blood. Staring down at me with anger present on his face. His eyebrows were furrowed, lines creasing between his eyebrows. Mouth turned downward into a frown. In his large hands was a shotgun, one of the only weapons we had. My eyes widened in fear as he pointed it towards me, finger on trigger as he pulled it. A bullet shot towards me, landing by my hand as I quickly scrambled onto my feet.

Thank god his aim was shit.

Turning around, I began to dash away. Of course, as I always do, I jinxed it. Another shot fired, hitting my calf. "Fuck!" I yelled, stumbling slightly. Trying my best, I continued on. Limping as more shots rang through the air. Mud splattered with each bullet, they landed sharp and quickly. His feet were slow in the mud, yet so was mine, as he kept aiming towards me. 

Ringing filled my ears, making it hard to hear the environment around me. I could feel the sting in my leg, water pelting down on it causing the blood to rid itself. My feet carried me farther into the field, more trees filling the area. The field was in the middle of mountains, blocking anyway of escape unless I wanted to climb into the snowy climates with a hurt leg.

It was the recipe for disaster.

The shooting stopped as I got further, he was on my tail. profanities strewn through the air as he followed. The rain was becoming heavier, making it harder to see in front of me as I went. In the distance, hooves could be heard. Not being able to pinpoint where it came from, I kept going. Praying that they weren't coming near me.

I could barely make the silhouette of a horse as I ran. Coming straight in my direction. Fuck. "Hey!" the man yelled. Fuck. I stopped short, looking behind me quickly to see my dad, shotgun still in hand. Fuck. I turned again, looking at the man on the horse, closer than he was the last time I saw him. Swallowing hard, I began walking, my pace fast as I made my way towards the stranger. This was stupid. "Are you lost, what are you doing in these parts?"

Coming out in a croak, I tried to reply, "I-I'm being chased," Pointing behind me at the still enraged man, "He shot me in the leg, he's my dad."

"He shot you?" He asked quizzically.

Pain shot through my body, the bullet wound aching. "Listen, he's fucking crazy!" I threw my hands into the hair. "I'm not armed, my leg is bleeding. Please."

He grew closer. Gun pointed. A shot rang through the air, I screamed loudly. Another bullet in the body, arm this time. The man hopped off his horse, aiming his gun at my dad. "No! Don't!" I screamed. Even though he shot me twice, put his hands on me and blamed me fore everything wrong in his life. He was still my father.

Glancing towards me, his eyes were soft. Letting down his gun, he looked towards the angry man, taking a few steps forward. "Put down your weapon!" he said, his voice radiating authority. But he didn't stop, raising the shotgun at the stranger, he put his finger to the trigger. 

One shot ran through the air, I closed my eyes tightly, I was sure the horse man was hit. Body freezing as a hand landed softly on my shoulder, I peeked one eye open. Meeting kind eyes. "C'mon kiddo." he said softly, "Lets get you patched up." 

Eyes opened widely, I peered around his shoulder. My dads body laid silently on the ground. His eyes were open as he let the rain wash his anger away. "Is he dead?" I ask meekly.

"He was a threat."

Nodding knowingly, I tried to escape his touch. Stopping short as my knees buckled beneath me, "Fuck." I whispered. The wounds bled, soaking my clothes and grass that laid beneath me.

"C'mon, I have a community. We'll patch you up." Before I could argue with him, his calloused hands swooped under my knees, causing a small yelp to escape my lips. "You're okay. You're okay." With my malnourished body in his arms, he made his way towards the horse. Carefully sitting me in front of him as we began to gallop away. No pain stayed in my body, no thoughts and no emotions. The corners of my eyesight began to turn dark, spots clouding my vision as I slowly left consciousness.

--

I didn't know how long I was out for, where I was or if I was dead. Lights shined directly into my eyes as I opened them, white walls surrounding me. I could've been dead. But i don't I am. Looking down at my feet, a blanket was pulled over my lap. It was thin and a dull color of blue, pieces of yarn sticking out, being threatened to be pulled on.  A soft cushion was behind my head while i laid on a bed. Moving slightly, a dull ache shot through my leg and up my arm. Eyes screwing shut, I held in a breath, slowly letting it out shakily. "You're awake." a soft voice sounded from the door. Looking up, I was met with horse man.

His face was aged, wrinkles surrounding his forehead and eyes. He was maybe in his forties, thirties if you're being generous. His dark hair was slicked back, peeks of grey showing themselves, it curled at the nape of his neck. His face was adorned with a mustache, one that even I couldn't admit wasn't impressive. Light freckles were strewn across his darker sun kissed skin, creating constellations. They made me want to play 'connect the dots.'

He stood up straight, no longer leaning against the white doorframe. His feet shuffled across the floor, cowboy boots beating with each step. He pulled out a small wooden chair from the corner and gently sat down. He looked like a giant compared to the chair, indicating that it was made for children rather than adults. "I'm Tommy." he said gently, his brown eyes glistening with each word.

"Ilene." I say shortly. I didn't know if I could trust him, his face was welcoming and he radiated warmth. It hard to trust people, especially at this point in time. "Where am I?"

"You're in Jackson."

"Whats 'Jackson'?"

"Its this town. We have people here, a large wall and families. You're in the med room, right now."

"Med room?"

He nodded gently, "We had our nurse stitch you up. The bleeding stopped, no sign of infection but your ribs were bruised pretty badly. Almost broken."

"You have a nurse?"

"We have a lot of things. A theater, diner, garden, stables, houses and of course the med room."

"You said you had families?"

"Yes, we do."

"So we're safe?"

"Yes." a small smile appeared on his face.

"Can I stay?"

"We're considering."

"Whose we?"

"My wife and I."

"Who's your wife?"

"Her name is Maria."

"Where is she?"

He laughed at the amount of questions I asked, I guess waking up from god knows how long just to ask fifty questions is humorous. "Listen, kid. I know you have a lot of questions but you're still pretty injured. Why don't you take some more rest and then Maria and I will show you around."

"Okay." I nodded gently. He wasn't going to answer anymore questions and to be honest, I'm so out of it that I wont even remember any of the answers. He put his hands on his knees before standing from the chair. Small cracking came from his knees, he must've been old. I swallowed harshly, throat dry, "Thank you." I whisper towards him as he walked out the room.

He turned to face the bed once more, "You're welcome." he says. His mouth forming into a smile that reached his eyes. 

#tlou #bella ramsey #hbo the last of us #bellaramsey #the last of us #tlou fanfiction #bella ramsey fanfic #bella #lgbtqia #bella ramsey x reader #ellie x reader #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie the last of us #elliewilliams

[kueble]

Sweet on the Vine (Like Strawberry Wine)

Here is something that is only (slightly!) late for last year’s @witchersummercamp. Oops. My original artist backed out, and I managed to convince the amazing @mysticcoyoteart to work with me.  They created Jaskier’s look, which I fell in love with.  Please make sure to check out the art here.

Teen. Warnings: None. 2,000 words

Geralt/Jaskier

---

Retirement has turned out to be a little too relaxing, so Geralt hardly puts up a fight when Jaskier suggests they head into Beauclair for the Strawberry Festival.  Normally he’d do anything in his power to avoid a town full of drunken partygoers, but it turns out looking after a winery is a bit boring, especially since Barnabas-Basil does all the heavy lifting anyway.

Now, though?   Now he wonders what the fuck he was thinking.  The streets are packed with bodies, and the hot summer sun isn’t doing anyone any favors.   Geralt lets Jaskier lead him through the crowd, their fingers threaded together in an easy way that still makes his heart flutter, and leans in to inhale the sweet citrus scent of his lover’s perfume.  It calms something deep inside of him, and suddenly the crowd doesn’t seem so boisterous.

Jaskier - as always - is dressed to impress, not to blend in with the crowd.  Geralt remembers watching him flit about the tailor’s shop months ago, already looking for an outfit that would help him stand out.  He walked up to Geralt with a bolt of pink and strawberry printed fabric, his eyes bright and a pout already firmly in place, and Geralt knew they’d pay whatever the man asked for it.

Now he looks stunning, the petal pink fabric hanging off his curves in a dress that somehow manages to be both fitted and loose all at the same time. It’s hard not to get lost in the sharpness of Jaskier’s chest compared to the flowy fabric as it swishes around his heels.  Though they have nowhere pressing to be, so Geralt indulges himself and lets his eyes linger on his lover as he leads him through the growing crowds.

The city is one big colorful bustle, festival goers crammed into every nook and cranny.  They spend the morning darting between the vendor booths, Geralt tagging along after Jaskier like a lost puppy.  It’s hard to rein in the bard, and even more so when so many crafters have their best wares on display.  Jaskier flits between the stalls, his elegant fingers picking up one piece of jewelry after the other before bemoaning the fact that he can’t buy them all.

Geralt manages to distract him with a booth full of writing journals and doubles back to one of the jewelers.  The woman seems to expect his return and smiles before holding out the ring Jaskier had been fawning over.  Geralt manages to talk her down in price a bit, but his coin purse is still left much lighter.  But as he pictures the delicate silver band and its large opal resting on one of Jaskier’s fingers, he knows the purchase was worth it.

He sidles up next to Jaskier without missing a beat, and Jaskier appears to have been lost in the journals the entire time.  He holds up a couple of options - both eerily similar - so Geralt just points at the one on the right.  It seems to placate him, and Jaskier grants him a warm smile before turning to pay the vendor.

Once the noonday sun rises, the sound of Jaskier’s belly growling calls them both to lunch.  His cheeks are flushed pink - sheepish looks good on him - and Geralt just rolls his eyes before herding him towards the food tents.  They split a couple of chicken and venison meat pies, and even Geralt has to admit that the savory crust is the best he’s had in years.

—

“Oh, you have just got to try this, love,” Jaskier mumbles around a mouthful of berries.  The red juice trails down his chin, and there is a dab of clotted cream in the corner of his mouth, and Geralt can’t help leaning in to teasingly lick it away.  Jaskier jumps, squealing against Geralt, but he’s grinning when they pull apart,

“Tastes delightful,” Geralt says with a smirk.  Jaskier just snorts before dipping another strawberry into the cream and holding it up in front of him.  Geralt leans in and closes his mouth around the treat, eyes closing on their own as the sweetness bursts across his tongue.  He chews slowly, savoring the decadent taste of berry mixed with the sugary cream.

Never say Toussaint doesn’t know how to throw a festival.

“Want another?” Jaskier asks, but they don't have a lot of extra funds and Geralt would rather watch him enjoy the strawberries than eat them himself.

“Not really one for sweets,” he mumbles, and Jaskier shoots him a knowing look before popping the last berry in his mouth.

“Thank you, dear,” he says with his mouth full of fruit, and Geralt snorts before leading him towards the mead tent.  Certainly they have enough coin left to slay his thirst.

—

As soon as Geralt hears the band, he knows he’s about to be dragged into a dance.  Decades ago, he might have refused, probably would have stomped his foot and held his ground and missed out on seeing the joy on Jaskier’s face.  Thankfully, spending years with Jaskier has taught him how to give in and let go.   Retirement is good for them both, and Geralt plans to spend the rest of his days keeping a smile on his lover’s face.

“Dance with me?” Jaskier asks, almost shyly as he holds out a hand.  Geralt covers it with his own and leans in close to whisper into his ear.

“They’re not as good as you,” he says, and Jaskier laughs bright and openly as they move into the crowd of dancers.

“Flattery will get you everywhere, darling,” Jaskier tells him with a wink, and then they’re moving together with the grace built by years of practice.

Geralt feels every year of his age right now, but Jaskier’s youthful energy makes them fit right in with the villagers around them.  The song is bouncy and light, and they hold each other up as they spin to the beat. Jaskier feels perfect in his arms, like they were built for each other, and Geralt can’t help squeezing him tighter as they dance.

Leaning in, Jaskier presses a quick kiss to Geralt’s cheek, his lute-calloused fingers laced with Geralt’s and their warm palms touching as they spin with the rest of the crowd.  Geralt nearly trips over his own feet, and Jaskier just leans back, giggling at him but still smiling brighter than the hot afternoon sun.  He looks absolutely gorgeous like this, his eyes alight and his cheeks flushed with exertion.

“Where is that famed witcher grace and agility?” Jaskier asks with a smirk.  “Gone soft in your retirement?”

“Wasn’t aware this was a competition,” Geralt says slowly before grinning at him and adding, “you want to see some skills?  How’s this work for you?”

Without any further warning, Geralt lowers his hands to Jaskier’s waist and tosses him up in the air.  Jaskier lets out a squeal, his lithe arms flailing before Geralt catches him quickly.  His dress swirls around them, the printed fabric swishing as they move.  He supports Jaskier by holding his slim waist and encouraging Jaskier to tuck his legs against his hip.  He does so, throwing his head back and laughing as Geralt keeps dancing.

Someone near them whistles appreciatively, but Geralt keeps his focus on Jaskier.  The corners of his eyes are crinkled, his whole face lit up as he looks down at Geralt.  They move in slow circles as the band winds down, and Jaskier leans in to kiss him as the last few notes of the song trail off.  His mouth is soft against Geralt’s, his hands even softer as he threads his fingers through Geralt’s hair.  He lets his feet drop, the petal pink heels clicking on the cobblestones beneath them, and grabs a fist of Geralt’s shirt, pulling him even closer.  They stand there kissing long after the next song starts, the dances moving around them without missing a beat.

—

By the time the sun sets, Geralt is more than ready to head back home.   But of course Jaskier won’t leave before the fireworks go off.  One well-timed pout had been enough to get Geralt to start searching for the perfect viewing spot.  They end up on a stone bench in the middle of one of the public gardens.  The Duchess’ palace stands tall above them, but neither of them felt the need to push past the festival crowds to fight for a seat inside.  No, this little alcove they found is much better.

They had a late dinner in one of the town squares, splitting a platter of meats and cheese and more of the sweet sun-ripened strawberries it seems every dish at the festival features.   His belly is pleasantly full, and the taste of sugary strawberry wine lingers on his tongue.  Geralt sighs and leans into Jaskier, humming happily before wrapping an arm around his shoulders.  Jaskier sighs softly and nuzzles their cheeks together, his tanned skin still warm even as the night cools down around them.

Suddenly Geralt remembers his earlier purchase and slides a hand inside his pocket, his fingers easily finding the cool metal of the ring.  Jaskier is lost in his own head, his fingers tapping a lively beat against Geralt’s thigh, and Geralt realizes he’s most likely composing something.  He waits for the tapping to stop before clearing his throat and getting the bard’s attention.

“Yes, dear?” Jaskier asks, tilting his head as he turns to look at Geralt.  There’s something about the softness in his eyes that makes Geralt’s chest pull tight, and he ends up fumbling over his words.

“I, er, for you,” he mutters before shoving the ring at Jaskier.  He almost drops it, but Jaskier’s nimble fingers manage to hang on, and he lets out a gasp before holding the ring up in front of him.

“You went back for it!” he exclaims, eyes watering as he looks between the silver ring and Geralt’s face.

“You deserve pretty things,” Geralt mumbles, which just makes Jaskier move even closer to him.

He slides the ring onto his hand before holding it up to examine it properly.  The fiery opal looks elegant on his long finger, like it’s always belonged there.  Geralt tries to pretend he’s not pleased by the way Jaskier is preening over the jewelry, but he loves being able to provide little extravagances for him.  He didn’t lie when he said Jaskier deserves this and so much more.  Thankfully they have years ahead of them, and Geralt vows to keep spoiling him until his last day on this earth.

“The prettiest thing I ever got was you,” Jaskier tells him sweetly, and Geralt can feel his face flushing.  He tries to look away, but Jaskier cups his cheek in one hand and smiles dopily at him.  Geralt knows without a doubt that there’s a matching look on his own face, and he just doesn't care anymore.  Let the festival goers judge however they want.

His love ought to be celebrated, ought to be seen.

“Charmer,” Geralt manages to blurt out, and Jaskier just offers a shrug and another smile.

“Says the man who keeps charming me, over and over, each and every single day.  You’re a romantic, witcher mine, and there’s no use denying it,” Jaskier points out, much to Geralt’s dismay.  He takes a breath, like he’s about to argue more, but then a flash of light explodes above them, the boom echoing off the stone walls of the buildings surrounding them.  Jaskier gasps and turns his face towards the sky to watch the fireworks.

The Duchess puts on a stunning display, and they spend the next half hour watching the fireworks bloom in the night sky.  Well, Jaskier watches the fireworks.  Geralt watches Jaskier, as he is wont to do.  The bright colors flash around them, highlighting Jaskier’s cheekbones and the curve of his mouth, and Geralt thinks it’s one of the most gorgeous sights he’s ever seen.  His favorite views aren't fit for polite company, so he focuses on this moment instead of reminiscing.   Besides, he’ll have plenty of time to take his bard apart on their bedsheets once they return home for the night.  For now he is more than content to hold Jaskier in his arms while the fireworks flash and rain down around them.

#my fic #the witcher #geraskier #geralt #jaskier #geralt x jaskier #everyone should retire in corvo bianco #jaskier wears a dress like a pro #they both deserve pretty things

[undercoverwarlock]

Microfic: Tragedies (Part 1)

The war was over, and their youth remembered in stolen moments of excess and frivolity. By day, they rebuilt the world that their elders had wrecked in the name of their greater good. It was work that should never have been placed on the shoulders of children who were expected simply to do better. So, at night, those children played. That is, all of them, except one.

Harry could not understand how the people around him could just let go. Even Hermione, in her own quiet way, was able to relax, memories of the war tattooed over and hidden beneath inky flowers and vines on her arms. Years on, and he lived alone in that big old house, spending his time buried alive in his work in the Aurors, slowly suffocating. This was the way it was supposed to be, he told himself. This was all he needed.

It was Luna, of all people, who pulled him out. She would drop by, unannounced, and chat with him over herbal teas she made herself. Most of the time Harry barely said a word. Luna didn't mind. She knew that sometimes that was all anyone needed - to hear a voice and know they were not alone.

"Does it bother you that Ginny and I are dating?" she asked once. Harry looked up from his tea, a soothing peppermint and lemon balm. He had always known that Luna saw people more clearly than people gave her credit for, but it still startled him sometimes. He frowned.

"Not as much as I thought it would," he told her. "It was a bit of a surprise, but also... a relief? I don't know. The two of us never worked the way I thought we would, and our break up felt inevitable after the war." He pulled his cup of tea closer. He knew why he and Ginny had broken up. He knew the words he had held in for so long, not even able to speak them aloud to himself, knew the cage he had built for himself. Luna waited patiently, her soft dreamy smile reassuring and warm. Harry swallowed past the knot in his throat and, unbidden tears welling up in his eyes and heart hammering in his chest, took a shaky breath. "I think I like men, Luna. But I also like women? I don't - I don't understand - I feel like there must be something wrong with me. Why can't I just be normal? Or, I don't know, the man everyone expects me to be?"

She squeezed his hands gently. "You are exactly who you are meant to be," she said. "And Harry? You don't owe anything to anyone."

A few days later, Luna and Ginny showed up on his doorstep after work. Before he could even say hello, Ginny grinned and said,

"We're taking you out to a gay bar."

-

For @drarrymicrofic's song prompt, "I Write Sins Not Tragedies" by Panic! at the Disco - part 2 to come soon.

#harry potter #drarry #my writing #draco malfoy #drarry microfic #drarrymicrofic #microfic #draco x harry #angst #harry x draco

[fastcardotmp3]

okay in the Dead Steve Agenda he stays that way without any extra StuffTM about it, but in an adjacent Dead Steve World his consciousness gets trapped in the Upside Down and in the process of crossing over, comes across whatever lingering presence of Barbara Holland still exists down there-- never created nor destroyed and all that stuff.

Barb who does not trust him and Steve who knows he has no right to ask her to.

Barb who is angry as she is smug in him being here because you were supposed to keep her safe.

Barb who gave up hope that she'd ever get home a long time ago, who understands this place and what it means to be stuck here better than Steve but hesitates to talk to him about it.

(It's been a long time since she talked to anyone too.)

And I'm just thinking, y'know, about closure and peace and how going out like they do-- at the bottom of a swimming pool all alone and in the arms of a kid he'd let down by making a sacrifice that hadn't even won them the war-- neither one of them has those things.

I'm just thinking about how they're not alive, but they've got some sort of presence here, maybe just enough to feel out Vecna's power, to manipulate it, maybe to even send some sort of signal in the gentle convincing of vines out of a very specific path to a very specific and vulnerable place.

They aren't there anymore, no one will ever know how they've helped, even if they'll know the ultimate catalysts that both of their deaths were in this fight and the saving of so many lives in the long run.

No one will ever know that as the Upside Down purges every piece of darkness with the defeat of those cruel and powerful beings that had taken over too many years ago to remember what it was before, that too goes with it a couple of kids lost too soon.

They sit at the bottom of Steve Harrington's pool and hold hands as they stare up at crimson lighting changing into something new entirely because it's scary, finding closure. It's terrifying, having hope that whatever comes next will be something that will give their friends and families comfort in their deaths.

Barb was never meant to be friends with Steve, but they were never meant to be more than casualties either, so maybe it doesn't matter that it's his hand she's holding when one existence passes on to the next.

Maybe all that matters is that they helped one last time before they left.

#dot post #dot fic #stranger things #steve harrington #barb holland #barbara holland

[timeofjuly]

Resolutions

Note: Reader's POV of the New Year's Eve when they met Red. So sorry for the wait to the anon who requested this! As a warning, reader is very much in an altered state of mind due to drug use in this one, so proceed with caution.

Tags: Drug use, implied sexual content, angst, self-hatred.

Read it on AO3 or read it below :)

It’s New Year's Eve and you feel fucking fantastic.

You look hot. You feel hot, both in terms of your confidence in your appearance and the temperature; it’s sweltering in Izzy’s apartment. Too many people crammed into a too small space. It feels like there’s hands everywhere. Your skin is alight with warmth and touch, so many people close to you. They grow on you like vines, like weeds, like ivy, weaving ‘round and ‘round until you’re all bound together, one pulsing, living organism.

The music is so loud that it’s an almost palpable presence in the air; you can viscerally feel it filling your ears, pressing against your skin, pouring down your mouth when you open it to sing. It clings to you like plastic wrap as you dance, shaping your movements.

Sweat runs down your back and between your breasts. But you’re the hottest fucking thing in this room, right, so it just gives you a mysterious, sexy sheen, like you’re a fucking nymph or some shit, stepping out from behind a waterfall, batting your eyelashes at the Olympian raging to fuck you. You’re ready to be drowned in ambrosia. To choke on nectar. Swallow swallow swallow.

Fuck, your mouth is dry. Your tongue feels like sandpaper. Is this how cats feel, with their arid, pointysharp little tongues? You hope not, the poor things. This sucks.

“I need a drink,” you shout against the music, jaw clicking around the words, “anyone else want one?”

Izzy, your host, nods enthusiastically. She springs up from where she’d been dancing low to the floor and grasps your sweaty hand in her own cooler, scaly one. “I’ll come with you! I need a piss.”

You let her drag you from the throng of bodies into the bathroom, where you scroll on your phone as she sits down to pee. Your vision’s pleasantly blurry, but you manage to successfully reply to a few messages and send a few of your own. You then examine yourself in the bathroom mirror, mostly pleased with the way your hair falls, the way your makeup makes your eyes look dark and sultry. You apply a fresh coat of lipstick and smack your lips together, making faces at your reflection. The skin on your cheekbones stretches tightly, almost too-taunt, casting a sharp shadow.

For a moment, you don’t feel as pretty as you had before, but then your thirst returns with a vengeance, and you forget all about it. You stick your head in the sink, mouth poised and open beneath the tap, and drink deeply from the cool, refreshing water. Probably should’ve waited to do your lipstick, but ah well.

“You look like a horse,” Izzy snorts at you, hip-checking you to the side so that she can wash her hands. “When you said you wanted a drink, I thought you meant booze, bunny, not water.”

“A girl can want two things,” you say. Have enough and it all tastes the same, anyway.

Bunny is what this particular social circle likes to call you. You don’t really get it, but nicknames aren’t ever chosen by the person, are they, and it’s hardly the worst name in the world. You like bunnies, anyway. They’re cute. Fluffy, funny little things. They’re either pets or pests or lab animals, too, and somedays you feel like a mangled amalgamation of all three, so you guess it’s fitting.

Izzy washes and dries her hands and then does a line of coke off of the countertop. She offers you a bump, but you decline – tonight, you’re pacing yourself.

This year, you want to watch the time tick over to midnight, and you want to remember it. You’d gotten too fucked-up last year too early and had been out like a light by ten, so being awake and cognizant for this one is your resolution, or some shit. You don’t really do resolutions, but this one seems achievable enough. Stay up and ring in the New Year. Yeah, you can do that, you beautiful, gorgeous, magical creature. The world is ready to be bent to your whims. Midnight’s a piece of cake.

You follow Izzy back out into the party and to the kitchen, riffling through her fridge for a decent mixer. You end up pouring orange juice into two glasses, along with a healthy serve of tequila. If you had any grenadine on hand, you’d have yourself a proper sunrise.

You sit on the kitchen countertop to drink it, bare legs swinging lazily in the air. Izzy sits next to you, her hip pressed against your own. Her hand rests atop your thigh, drawing little patterns with the tip of her claw. The sensation makes ticklish goosebumps erupt all over your legs.

Your head is buzzing like it’s full of bees and it’s making your vision go a little funny. You blink a few times, then scan the apartment in an attempt to refocus your eyes. The party is still a writhing, pulsating mass, moving with the thrum of the music. Everyone looks so beautiful. You wish that you could live in this moment forever.

You know everyone – at least, you think you do – so you’re surprised when your eyes fall on someone you’ve never met before. He’s a monster, a skeleton monster, dressed in an oversized, dark jacket with a furry hood. He’s reclined on Izzy’s shitty sofa, looking easy and relaxed. His legs are spread wide, which you normally find obnoxious, but he’s really making it work for him. As you watch, he brings a bottle of something to his skull, and scarlet magic flickers to life inside of his mouth as he drinks. You watch, eyes wide.

The red of his magic looks hot – red-hot, you think, holding back a snort at your creativity. You knew someone, once, who would’ve had a far better, more eloquent, poetic way of describing it, but you’re refusing to think of her tonight. Even that tiny little reminder sends cold skittering through you, so you wrench your focus back to the guy and his magic. You wonder if it’s as warm as it looks. It looks like it’d heat you up from the outside-in.

That sounds amazing right now.

“Who’s that?” you say, transfixed. There’s an eager breathiness in your voice.

“What?” Izzy says, tapping the side of her head.

“Who is that?” you shout in Izzy’s ear, loud enough to be heard over the music. You gesture towards the sofa with your chin.

“He’s a friend of one of the birds, I think,” she says dismissively, “can’t remember his name right now.”

“He’s hot as fuck. Please tell me he’s single. It’ll ruin my whole year and the next ones if he’s not.”

She cackles. Her laughter takes up her whole face, splitting it down the middle like an axe wound to the head. You have the urge to shove your finger into her open mouth, but she probably won’t find it funny. She’d probably bite you, actually, with her sharp little teeth, and the Tylenol and antibiotics you’d get as a result are hardly worth the hospital trip. Now, if she took off your whole finger, you’d get oxycodone or hydromorphone at the very least, but they probably wouldn’t mix well with the rest of the pharmacy’s worth of drugs in your bloodstream.

And you’d also miss midnight. You can’t have that.

“You’re so funny, bunny,” Izzy giggles at you. She throws her arm around you and tugs you to her side. “I love you soooo much.”

You hug her back, pressing your face into the cool hollow of her neck. You choke on your muffled laughter. The hug feels really nice. “Love you too.”

You do, in this moment. You’re full of enough love that you’re afraid it’s all going to spill out of you, tear through your skin and flood the entire apartment. You love love. So much. Feels so good.

Izzy pulls back from the hug, then brings her own glass to your lips. You drink greedily. She doesn’t pull it away until you’ve drained the whole thing.

“Pretty sure he’s single, so go ring in the New Year the right way,” she says, pulling you from the countertop and giving you a friendly smack on the ass to spur you on.

Not that you need a lot of encouragement. You fix your sexiest smile to your face and do your best impression of a lingerie model’s saunter down the runway as you stride towards him, snagging a pair of shot glasses as you go.

…

Opening your eyes is a fucking ordeal.

The ceiling of Izzy’s darkened guest bedroom greets your dry, crusty vision. The fan on the ceiling spins in slow, lazy rotations, sending cool wafts of air over your bare body.

Your muscles ache, in a good way, as you pull yourself up into a sitting position, your legs stretched out in front of you. You look down at your chest and find it decorated with several pretty red marks and the memory of receiving them sends remembered pleasure shivering through you. You knew that the guy would be a great fuck; maybe you’ve just got a sixth sense for shit like this.

Speaking of the guy, he’s still asleep. Ha, you must’ve worn him out, just like he did to you. He’s lying on his back, skull turned to the side, so his face is half buried into the pillow. The sheets are kicked messily around his feet.

You watch the way his ribcage expands and contracts with his breathing. So strange, breathing with no lungs. What purpose does it serve? Does he have to do it, the way you do?

You imagine, for a moment, your own lungs, wet and pulpy and probably black with tar and pockmarked with holes, imagine them filling and deflating with air. You hold your breath until your vision goes fuzzy just to feel the way they strain against the confines of your chest. The burn reminds you that there’s something inside of you. Something warm and real.

You look back at your bedpartner, at all of that empty space inside of him. You wonder if he feels the hole as part of himself, if he walks and talks and eats and fucks, all the while perceiving that absence. You wonder if he feels like you do sometimes, like a discarded orange rind, all of your insides scooped out until just the smooth outside remains.

Something prickles at your eyes. You feel dizzy. A little sick.

You exhale in a deep, desperate rush, suddenly remembering that you have to breath. You take a few ragged inhales, deep ones, to make up for the oxygen you’d been deprived of.

Your chest hurts. Your head hurts, too, a dull throb. Either you’ve just accidently almost asphyxiated yourself, or it’s time for a top-up. The ecstasy’s probably worn off by now; that’s probably why you’re feeling this way. Yeah, that’s it. The comedown always sucks.

You have no other reason to be sad, after all. You sit here, freshly fucked, muscles aching pleasantly. The party downstairs still beats on, a riotous chorus of early two thousands throwback music and laughter. You can feel the thrum of the base in your blood. The world is alive around you. Revel in that. Be happy for that. This is your life. You chose it. You made it this way. You have to live it, now.

Yep, definitely time for a top-up. Izzy owes you; you can scum a little extra off of her. You don’t remember why she owes you, exactly, but a favour’s a favour. S’not like you to look a gift horse in the mouth. Take the goodness as it comes and let go of the bad. Breath in again. Breath out. Keep reminding yourself to do it, so you don’t forget.

You fumble underneath the pillows and retrieve your phone. The cracked screen reads 12:36am. You have a dozen unread messages, drunken New Years well-wishes from names you can’t put a face to.

Your mom and dad used to always stay up late on New Years Eve, drinking port wine and watching Christmas movies until they’d fall asleep on the couch together. It was their tradition. As a kid, you begged them to let you stay up with them, but you always fell asleep before the clock struck midnight and you’d wake up on January first in your bedroom, your dad having carried you to bed.

Every year, your New Years resolution was to stay awake next time long enough to watch the clock tick over to midnight. There was something magical about it as a child, the idea of peeling away the old paint of the past year to reveal the shiny, fresh surface of the new.

You wonder if your parents are awake now, watching the end of the Polar Express and drinking out of those funny little port glasses.

Your bedpartner stirs, murmuring sleepily into his pillow. He’s drooling. It’s cute. You get the feeling, from the way that he’d fucked you, that he’s not the kinda guy who appreciate being called that, though.

Those type of guys are always the cutest.

If he’d woken up, you would’ve told him that, but he doesn’t. He just settles back into the pillow. You do throw the blanket over his naked pelvis, though, because you’re considerate like that. Nice girl. Sweet girl. Bunny. Everyone likes you. You’re so much fun. And you’re having fun. Buckets of it. Enough to drown in it.

You slide your bare feet onto the cold floor and begin the search for your shoes. Happy New Year to me.

#parallel circuits #the electrician #red #red/reader #thank you again anon :)