#kat writes

[claudemblems]

A Kiss to End All Doubt | Albert Moriarty

Summary: When you agreed to tag along with the Moriarty brothers to a grand ball, the last thing you expected was to receive a noble's offer of marriage. Thankfully, Albert plays the part of your lover well, perhaps a little too well for his affectionate words to be fake...

Content: SFW. Fem!Reader. 3,723 words. Pining. Soooo much romantic tension. Albert is a flirt and no one is surprised.

Notes: I have been writing this fic for what feels like forever BUT IT'S FINALLY FINISHED :3 I'm so excited to finally give this to you. I hope you enjoy it 💖 I may also add an epilogue if there's an interest for one...🤭

Did Albert Moriarty, one of the many faces of the Lord of Crime, truly not have the slightest idea of the effect he had on you?

It was silly to even fathom that a man of his stature could be so oblivious, but you couldn’t help but start to wonder once he started giving your flushed cheeks and wide eyes a quizzical look.

That, or he was playing coy with you, which wouldn’t be all that surprising coming from him. He’d long since mastered the art of making noble ladies go weak in the knees.

But that was a skill he’d acquired out of pure necessity. If he had things his way, he’d refuse to give the stuck up women of the nobility the time of day. Unfortunately, he had a role to play in all of his brother’s plans, and so he continued flirting with the noble ladies just long enough to leave them wanting more.

You, on the other hand, were no noble. In fact, you had no good fortune, distinguished education, or marriageable prospects to speak of. Truly, you were nothing but a mere face hidden amongst the shadows, which was perfect for an assistant to the Lord of Crime.

You’d begun to empathize with Albert’s disdain for these royal functions, mainly the lavish balls he and his brothers had little choice but to attend. It was important for them to keep up appearances as a well-rounded noble family who knew how to mingle with the upper-class, whether they enjoyed doing so or not. While they seemed to have gotten used to it for the most part, it proved to be quite the difficult adjustment for you. Thankfully, Albert had patiently taught you the ins and outs of noble life, giving you lessons on small talk and etiquette whenever time permitted.

However, he hadn’t yet taught you how to handle a nobleman’s advances.

“You must be Lady [Name],” the man greeted, holding out his hand for you to take. You briefly glanced towards Albert, taking his nod as a sign to follow through with the gesture. A kiss was placed onto your hand before the man let go, stepping back to better admire the exquisite sights around him. “It’s quite a splendid ball, isn’t it? There’s so many well-mannered and intelligent guests in our midst, such as you, young Lord Albert.”

“Lord Darnley, you are far too kind,” Albert said, placing a hand over his heart and bowing. “I ought to be extending the compliments to you. Your presence here is most welcome, as well as that of your entourage. Would the girl you brought with you happen to be your little sister, Lady Georgina?”

“Ah, I see you’ve made sure to memorize the names of all the guests! Indeed, she insisted on joining me, and no matter what I said, she refused to take no for an answer!” Darnley bellowed in laughter, briefly drawing the attention of the other guests nearby.

“She already seems to be quite the free spirit. I’m sure she has a bright future ahead of her.”

“If you’re so interested in my dear Georgina, I would be more than willing to sit down and discuss a potential marriage between the two of you.”

You swore you saw a flash of disgust appear in Albert’s eyes, but he simply smiled brightly at Darnley, careful that his emotions did not look fake or contrived. “While your offer is certainly generous, I have no plans of marriage at the moment. I’m afraid I’m already plenty busy with my service in the royal army.”

“Ah, what a shame,” Lord Darnley sighed, but his disappointment quickly turned to anticipation when his gaze once again fell on you. Your stomach lurched at the look in his eyes, but you tried to retain your composure, copying Albert’s mannerisms by offering a surface-level smile.

“Lady [Name], I am supposing you are not yet married if you’re attending this function with the Moriartys.”

“That would be correct, my good sir. How astute of you to notice.”

Lord Darnley grinned at the news like a hunter mere moments away from ensnaring this prey. “Well then, my lady, is there anyone that has asked for your hand yet?”

Goosebumps ran down your arms as you swallowed thickly. Anyone with a right mind knew exactly where this conversation was heading.

“I…well…” Should you tell the truth? Should you lie? But then who would you say had expressed a desire in marrying you? “It’s…complicated.”

“So, that would mean no formal question has been posed then, correct?”

“...Correct.”

You heard Albert’s feet shift next to you, on guard for whatever preposterous idea this nobleman could come up with next.

“Well, it’s certainly not good for a lady of your standing to be without a husband. I, myself, am quite the romantic, and I believe a courting period fosters a genuine love between both parties involved. If you have no one currently vying for your hand, perhaps you’d offer me the chance to earn it.”

No. No. On so many levels, no.

But this wasn’t about you—your happiness or married life did not come before the liberation of London. Whatever the brothers asked of you, you would adhere to their words, even if it meant having to be stuck with a man such as…this. Though you knew they’d never even entertain the thought of offering you up to some man who cared only for your beauty and status and nothing for your heart. If you were to refuse Darnley’s advances, at the least, you were confident the Moriartys would respect your decision.

Even so, you didn’t want to cause any more trouble for them. If you couldn’t agree to the idea of marriage, perhaps a date or two would suffice, right?

Just the thought made you feel sick. 

“Well, what do you say, my lady? Will you allow me the pleasure of courting you?”

You knew you had to keep up appearances. You couldn’t allow for cracks to show in the perfect and amicable facade the Moriartys had carefully crafted. You knew that well, and yet…

This was a proposal that not even death itself could bring you to accept.

“I’m sorry, my lord, but I must sincerely refuse.”

Lord Darnley stared at you in alarm. “Come again? You didn’t just say no to my advances, did you?”

Your heart rate quickened as his words grew heated, and in that moment you wanted nothing more than to take off and hide somewhere safe and quiet in the manor’s garden, away from other people who might come up with even more ridiculous propositions.

“It’s just as you heard, my lord. I must decline.”

An uncomfortable silence hung in the air as Lord Darnley stared straight into your eyes, not blinking for several long moments. Your hands had begun to shake as you feared that you’d just begun tarnishing the reputation of the Moriarty family. Truly, there were fewer things more terrifying than a nobleman who felt he’d been insulted, and the consequences for such an offense would be nothing short of dire.

“Lady [Name], you are in no place to refuse my offer. You said yourself that no other man has even brought up the idea of marriage to you! Are you truly so brazen that you would reject the prospects of a life in union with mine? We all know who makes the decisions around here, and they’re certainly not made by women—!”

“My good sir, I believe you’ve said quite enough.”

A small gasp left your lips as Albert sneaked a hand around your waist, still carefully holding his glass of wine in the other. You searched his face for an answer as to what he was scheming, but he simply smiled—a true one this time—wordlessly reassuring you that all would be well.

“You see, Lady [Name] may not have received an offer of marriage as of yet, but that is only because I have been quite busy protecting our beloved country. I wish to propose when I am able to be at home more often and thus can fulfill my duties as a devoted husband to my wife. So I must politely ask that you rescind your offer, lest you make yourself seem as though you chase after taken women.”

Propose? Husband?

If you were afraid of tainting the Moriarty image, Albert clearly didn’t share your concerns.

“Taken? Why, I—! You’re bluffing, Lord Albert! You’re not planning on marrying this woman!”

“And what has brought you to that incorrect conclusion?”

“If that were the case, you would have brought it up the moment I asked if she were single!”

“To be fair, you asked if she’d received an offer for marriage, not if she was currently available to court.”

You could practically see the steam coming out of Lord Darnley’s ears, his face growing redder with each passing minute. He was still unconvinced, and for good reason, too, but you weren’t about to let Albert’s kindness go to waste.

You placed a hand on Albert’s shoulder, smiling up at him as he redirected his full attention to you. “It’s true, my lord. My affections have been reciprocated by my dear Albert, and I am patiently waiting for him to ask me to marry him. It will be a proposal I shall readily accept.”

Darnley scoffed, a hand placed over his heart in disbelief. “And you had the gall not to tell me when I’d begun to question you? Either you’re a terrible liar, or you’re just hoping to humiliate me in front of all these guests!”

“I would never dream of deceiving or insulting you, my lord. I should have made my relationship status clear to you earlier. Please forgive my carelessness.”

“I still think this is some elaborate hoax the both of you are trying to pull off. If not to tarnish my good name, then to convince every noble here that you’re worth the status bestowed on you at birth.” Lord Darnley swiped a fresh glass of wine off the tray of one of the waiters walking by, the man watching in horror as the lord downed all of the liquid in one gulp. His cheeks had started to take on a flushed hue from the great amount of alcohol he’d consumed that night, and with the way things were going, he was sure to be drunk by the end of it. “Perhaps, Lady [Name],” Darnley continued, a lopsided smirk forming on his face, “you’ve been lying about your social status, and you’re hoping that your marriage to Lord Albert will secure you a place in the upper class.”

Anger surged through you at his utterly ridiculous theory. Darnley had unknowingly gotten one fact right: you were a nobody. When you’d been taken in by the Moriarty family, you had nothing to your name but pen, paper, and the clothes on your back. But you knew one thing for sure: you had worth as a human being, and no one, noble or otherwise, would be able to change that.

And marrying a noble for status? What a laughable suggestion. As if you’d stoop so low just for some so-called “honor” among the elite.

“Well, dear sir,” you began, discreetly hiding a smirk behind your gloved hand, “I had no idea you were so foolish as to even come up with such an inconceivable thought. I once held you in high regard as I’ve heard many within the nobility sing your praises, but your current behavior is quite unbecoming of a person of your stature.”

You heard Albert try, and fail, to stifle a laugh next to you. You quietly breathed out a sigh of relief to see that he’d chosen not to reprimand your strong words. If anything, he seemed eager to encourage them.

As Lord Darnley frantically signaled for a waiter to bring him more wine, Albert took the opportunity to lean down next to your ear, whispering a simple yet heart-pounding question, “[Name], would it be all right with you to play further into these roles of enchanted lovers?”

Your breath caught in your throat, butterflies beginning to form in your stomach. “Of course,” you said. If only you knew how I truly felt, you wouldn’t even need to ask.

He smiled down at you, a sight that only stirred up the butterflies even more, and pulled you closer against him. Meanwhile, his eyes bored into Lord Darnley’s frame, darkening with every passing moment. If there was no one else in that ballroom, you had no doubt Albert would have leapt at the chance to get rid of him.

When Lord Darnley had finished downing another glass of wine, his fiery countenance returned to you and Albert. “You both are frauds,” he spat. “Everyone else here might be too dim-witted to figure it out, but I’ll make them aware that you’re not the upstanding moral characters you believe that you are.”

“It’s a shame to hear such vile thoughts coming from your own mouth, good sir,” Albert sighed. “But if I must be honest, I don’t care what any noble in this room thinks of me or the house in which I rule over.”

“Oh? And why is that, good sir?”

“Because,” Albert answered, turning his body towards yours, his visage noticeably softening when his focus returned to you, “the only person I want to please is the woman I adore. Not one person in the nobility is worthy of praise or merit—no one but her alone.”

Setting aside his glass, Albert gingerly took your hand in his own, meeting your eyes to silently ask for your permission. At your nod of approval, he lifted your fingertips to his lips, placing a gentle and almost reverent kiss against them.

“I love her,” he said, his sweet gaze reaching the very depths of your soul, “and when the time is right, I will make her mine.”

His words were like a match igniting the fire blazing in your heart, the flames fed by your deep affections for him, growing with every beat that thumped in your chest.

Your breath caught in your throat as his hand came to rest against your cheek, his touch so light yet so dizzying, more intoxicating than any wine you’d had that night. 

Albert searched your eyes as all the feelings you’d tried to keep at bay finally came pouring in like waves. You were sure he could see it all: the admiration, the yearning, the love you’d kept locked away. But somehow he’d managed to find the matching key, the truth you’d been hiding for all these years finally at his reach.

His fingers traveled along your cheek and down to your jaw, this thumb tracing patterns against your skin. You were still dazed from his words to Darnley, but you brought yourself to meet Albert’s gaze once more, curious to see what truths you could uncover in his own expression.

And you wished you hadn’t, because when you saw the affection so clearly present in them, you wanted nothing more than to throw yourself into his arms and kiss him until the night turned into day.

Albert wasn’t oblivious, and you knew it. Whatever people thought of him as—a genius, a young prodigy, a man of great knowledge—his ability to read people was beyond the average person’s comprehension. And you knew when he’d finally figured out what the person he’d been surveying was hiding. His lips would quirk upwards ever so slightly, the dimples on his face just beginning to show, and he’d cock his head to the side, pleased with his findings.

And that was exactly how he was looking at you.

You’d placed your heart out in plain view of his observant eyes, and he’d figured you out. But now that he knew of your feelings for him, what was he planning to do with them?

Albert’s thumb drifted from your jaw down your lips, careful not to brush off the lipstick staining them. He stared at them for several moments, deep in thought, before he returned his eyes to yours, a single question hidden within them.

May I?

Already breathless, you squeezed his hand once, closing your eyes as Albert leaned in painstakingly slowly, every nerve in your body alight with anticipation. This was the moment you’d only been able to imagine in dreams, on nights where you sat wordlessly under the stars, silently wishing upon them in vain. They couldn’t grant you your desires. They couldn’t give you everything you ever wanted. You were the only one with the power to seize your opportunity and make your own wish come true.

And as Albert’s lips finally fell on yours, you smiled.

Your greatest wish was being granted right before your very eyes.

His lips tasted faintly of wine, and the subdued scent of his cologne still lingered on his collar. Combined with the warm and comforting touch of his hand cupping your face, your senses were overwhelmed in the most wonderful of ways. It felt as if you’d begun to float, brought into a fairy tale-esque trance where the entire world grew still except for you and Albert.

Time had stalled to allow you this moment of pure, undeniable bliss that not even the corrupt powers of this world could take away from you.

With his lips still on yours, Albert’s hand snaked further around your waist, gently pulling you closer against him. You practically had no room left between the two of you, and so in a moment of boldness, you placed one hand on his shoulder, the other on his chest, right above his heart. Even through his suit, you could feel it beating wildly.

It only made you wonder: did he truly mean what he’d said earlier? Did he really harbor such affection for you? Did he really intend…to make you his?

Before you could ponder anymore, Albert finally pulled away, cheeks faintly dusted with rose. He appeared somewhat dazed himself, but he kept his composure, still well aware of where the two of you were at the moment.

But this time when he turned to Darnley, he smirked, practically beaming from head to toe with delight as he spoke. “Well, Lord Darnley, do you believe us now?”

If looks could kill, both of you would have succumbed to that man’s rage.

Darnley’s hands gripped his wine glass so tightly that it shattered onto the floor, the remnants of wine staining his once perfectly polished suit. Other nobles stopped their conversations and turned to him upon hearing the commotion, a few of them even pulling out handkerchiefs.

“Sir, let me get you a new glass,” a waiter spoke, holding his hand out to take the broken one from him. But Lord Darnley was already fuming, and he shoved the waiter to the side, smashing the rest of the wine glass against the floor.

“You will pay for this,” he snarled. Sending you one final glare, he turned on his heel, marching out of the ballroom, hopefully never to be seen again (at least for the night).

“Well,” Albert breathed, laughing as he ran a hand through his hair, “I don’t think he’ll be bothering us anymore.”

“You’re right…Thank you, Albert.”

“What are you thanking me for?” he asked, gaze drifting back to yours. “I’ve done nothing to warrant your gratitude.”

You shook your head. “You have, Albert. You didn’t have to step in and save me from Darnley’s advances, but you did, even though doing so could have tarnished your family name. I’m indebted to you.”

Albert frowned ever so slightly, and you cocked your head to the side, confused. After a few moments, his gaze flickered to the people dancing around the room, his cheeks still tinged a beautiful red. “If you thought I was doing all that just to be a gentleman,” he murmured, “then I don’t know what it would take to make the truth clear to you...”

Well, suddenly you were the one left blushing. 

“It’s not that. I…I don’t want to assume anything more, not when you’re such a precious person to me. I’m just scared of ruining what we have between us.”

Albert turned his attention back to you, using the hand that was still on your waist to pull you close to him again. Taking your other hand in his, he lifted it up to his lips, your faces now just mere inches apart.

“And what if I were to say that I do want something more?”

You almost wanted to pinch yourself to make sure it wasn’t all a dream.

But you still felt the press of his lips against yours, took in the smell of his cologne, and memorized the touch of his fingers running along your cheek. It was not a dream. It was even better.

Albert leaned down next to your ear, his breath fanning against your skin. “If one kiss isn’t enough to convey how much my heart yearns for you, then allow me to kiss you until you’re breathless, and no more words of doubt are left on your tongue.”

Albert smiled as your face grew redder, and with the way he bit his lip, you knew he was struggling not to comment on it.

“For a noble, you sure lack any semblance of shame, Master Albert."

Albert shook his head and chuckled to himself, that mischievous glint having once again returned to his eyes. “Keep teasing me and you’ll find out just how shameless I can be, darling.”

“Is that a threat or a promise?”

“Do you want to find out?”

Despite your flustered state, you couldn’t help but laugh, squeezing Albert’s hand tighter in yours. “If you want to kiss me so badly, do so in a place that’s actually romantic, will you?”

Taking you by the hand, Albert began to lead you outside of the ballroom and into the rose gardens. “Of course, and I’ll take my time to make sure I kiss you properly.”

You made a mental note to thank William and Louis for letting you tag along to the ball. If all went well, they would end up becoming your own brothers-in-law, after all.

But that could wait until you finally had Albert’s affections all to yourself.

#moriarty the patriot #moriarty the patriot x reader #albert moriarty #albert moriarty x reader #kat writes #IT'S FINALLY HERE #Honestly I'm so happy with this one :3

[shenyaanigans]

imagine being told you can have the one thing you've always dreamed of, save your home, if you complete 1 mission: find vash the stampede & bring him to july. to millions knives.

you know where you're leading him to—what you're leading him to. you don't care. you take the deal.

imagine meeting him, the pitiful fool. the beloved little brother of millions knives, soft in every way—touch, color, heart. he bleeds for so much. too much. someone like him should not be alive. (someone like him doesn't want to be alive)

now your dream rests upon his survival.

imagine telling him you're an undertaker. it isn't wrong. vash the stampede was dead the moment millions knives called for him. there's nothing you can do except make sure he gets to hades's hands in one piece. you'd ask forgiveness, but willful sinners will never be forgiven.

imagine he tells you you're kind. imagine he looks upon your face and smiles. imagine he tells you you could never be bad: he can see it in your eyes. imagine how it must feel, to be acknowledged by the brother of god. does it hurt? does it make you angry?

imagine how it is to watch him bleed himself dry. imagine how it is to watch him make promise after promise, to break them, to watch him crumble to pieces beneath the weight of his own guilt. imagine what it is like to see a mirror. to be reminded of the cross you bear.

imagine how it is to protect him. to hold him close. to be forced to choose between your mission to free the orphanage, and your love for your own little brother. imagine how it is to watch him, time and time again, ensure you never have to make that choice by staying alive.

imagine how it is to fall in love with him.

imagine how it is to bring him all the way to july, to protect him, to heal him, to love him, and then to walk him to his final destination: death. imagine how it is to hear him thank you for it with a smile.

imagine how it is to know you've sealed his fate with a kiss.

#trigun #trigun stampede #trigun stampede episode 10 #nicholas d. wolfwood #vashwood #kat writes #crossposted from twitter #sorry i'm like losing it about wolfwood right now #i'm just going bananas. apeshit.

[a-bang-for-your-bucky]

Adrenaline Rush

Rockstar!Eddie Munson x F!Reader

Summary: Eddie uses the adrenaline rush he gets from being on stage in all the right ways.

Warnings: 18+ (Minors DNI) Smut (Unprotected PinV sex, dirty talk, hair pulling, come eating, oral F!receiving) Explicit language

A/N: Well hello new hyperfixation. Thanks to @acrossthesestars, I have fallen deeply for this doe-eyed fool. This was written as a coping mechanism.

Corroded Coffin sold out regularly. 

They were one of the last real rock bands left. Or, at least, that’s what Eddie tells you. It's what he'd told you since you'd started dating years ago. You had been there when they still practiced in a garage, doing local shows for nothing but free beer. And now they had studio appointments and packed concerts. 

You were in the dressing room with him as he prepared for the show, watching him go through his routine from your perch on the speaker box. He wrapped a bandana around his head to hold back his unruly curls and the jeans he tugged over his slim hips were ripped in all the right places, tight as hell, and made his ass look amazing. He had on his old D&D shirt, ‘Hellfire’ printed across his chest, under a red flannel that you knew he’d lose as soon as he finished the first song. His feet were clad in black Doc Martens and to top off the look, his black leather jacket was strung across the back of his chair. 

He was absolutely fucking beautiful. 

A knock at the door startled you out of your staring, a frazzled PA peeking their head in and telling Eddie he had five minutes before show time. He thanked the guy, sending him on his way before reaching for you. His rough hand in yours sent a familiar chill up your spine. “You okay, pretty girl?” He asked, his big doe eyes full of concern. 

You gave him a sweet smile, lifting up on your tiptoes to place a chaste kiss to his lips. “I’m great, Munson.” Trapping your bottom lip between your teeth, you looked up at him from under your lashes, knowing it drove him crazy. 

“A tease of the worst kind,” he laughed, his hands drifting down to your leather skirt clad ass, pulling you into him. “How are you gonna get me all worked up before a show?” He pouted, grinding against you, fingers drifting up to dig into the meat of your waist. 

A bang on the door said his time was up. He groaned, releasing you reluctantly. 

“I’ll be in my spot waiting for you, rockstar.” The words were barely out before he was crashing his mouth to yours, slipping his tongue between your lips to tangle with yours. 

You could already feel the heat gathering between your thighs. It didn’t take much. Eddie could easily turn you on with a look and he knew it. Show nights were different though, there was always something electric in the air that made him feral, wild and primal in a way that he normally wasn't. 

He stepped away from you, even though all he wanted was to ruck up your skirt and have his way with you. Leaning forward, his lips connected with the shell of your ear. “Be ready for me when the show is over. The only way I want to unwind is between your thighs.” 

He left you dripping wet in the middle of the room, your thighs pressed together to ease the ache, and threw you a wink as he walked out the door. 

The band was on fire, playing hit after hit. Screams from the crowd could be heard miles away. You watched from the side stage as Eddie lived out his dream, the way he was always meant to. You always knew he’d make it, even when everyone else told him it was a lost cause. You believed in him, you would never stop believing in him.

Bidding the crowd good night after the third encore, Eddie made a beeline straight toward you. He grasped your wrist roughly and kept walking, his dark eyes staring ahead. His dressing room appeared in front of you and he shoved you inside, slamming the door behind him. It was a small room without any real furniture. It didn’t stop him from backing you up against an old speaker. 

“Do you know how hard it was to perform when all I could think about was you?” He growled in your ear, and you shivered. His rough hands clawed up your thighs, pushing your skirt higher until it rested just above your ass. “Should have known a girl like you wouldn’t be wearing much of anything underneath. You just wanted me to fuck you, didn’t you?” 

You whimpered, nodding your head, clinging to him. 

“Tsk. Tsk. Need to hear the words, pretty girl. How else will I know I’m doing you right?” You could hear the teasing in his voice and it drove you crazy, made you desperate. Eddie slipped a hand between your thighs, running a finger through your slick, spreading it and making a mess if you. “You’re so wet. Is all this for me?” He asked as he removed his finger, bringing it to his lips and sucking it clean as you stood there watching him. 

“Eddie, please.” You murmures, squeezing your thighs together. He hummed in response, watching you writhe. “Fuck me. Eddie, please.” 

That was all he needed. He scrambled to undo his belt, flicking open his jeans and pushing them down just far enough to free his aching cock. He was hard, thick and throbbing, as he lifted your leg, wrapping it around his hip. He reached to pull your red lace panties to the side and notched himself at your entrance. 

Once more, Eddie looked into your eyes, silently asking for your permission. You nodded, bucking your hips forward and pushing him just a fraction of an inch. He groaned loudly as your warm, wet walls surrounded him. You found purchase on his shoulders, nails digging in, knowing this wasn’t going to be a gentle ride. 

“Fuuuuck.” He drew out slowly once he was fully seated inside of you. He lifted your other leg, so that you were wrapped around his waist and held you tightly by the back of your thighs, pressing you harder into the speaker. 

“Need you to move, Munson.” You mewled at him, trying to grind down. He took the hint, and started at a slow pace, before picking up force and slamming into you. 

Eddie was lost. He had left this world behind and was in a place all his own, a place that was just you and him and the way it felt to be inside you, to own you. You weren’t even sure he knew what he was saying. "God damn, so tight. Bet you couldn’t wait for me to get off stage to fuck you. Yeah, you knew it was coming. You were fucking ready for me. Pussy was fucking made for me. All mine. Mine. Mine."

Eddie wasnt normally a possessive person, but when it came to fucking you, you were his and his only, and it wrecked you when he reminded you of that fact. You were so close, listening to the dirty words spilling from his mouth, lost to the way his cock seemed to hit the right spot with every thrust. “Fuck, Eddie,” You whined, your cunt clenching down on him as he hit a particularly deep place within you. 

He moaned, all low and raspy, burying his face into your neck, before sucking hard on your pulse point. The action shocked you and you buried a hand into his luscious curls, crying out. You tugged hard, making him bite down. His thrusts faltered, and you knew he was close. 

“Shit, baby. Fuck, I’m gonna come. Please, Ple– oh, fuck.” His words were jumbled, you could barely make them out, but you couldn’t miss the heat that bloomed where the two of you were connected, as he fucked his spend deeper into you. 

When his soul returned to his body, Eddie knew it was only fair that it was your turn. Without a word, he lowered your feet to the floor before dropping to his knees in front of you. He snaked his tongue between your dripping folds, his fingers digging into your trembling thighs. He didn’t care that he could taste his own cum, because he could taste you too, and that combination was fucking addicting. 

You gasped as he attached his lips to your clit, your hips lurching forward. He ran his large hands down your thighs before slipping two fingers into your cunt, sucking harshly on the sensitive bud. “Eddie, shit, please," you moaned, tangling your hands in his curls once more. 

Eddie smirked into your core. “What do you need, pretty girl?” He teased, pulling away from you, pulling a needy whine from your lips. “Use your words, baby.” 

You looked down at him, his dark eyes staring back up at you. You were amazed at how a man could be so fucking pretty. And Eddie was just that, fucking pretty. With his mouth covered in a mixture of his cum and your slick, he was god damn gorgeous. “Eddie, please. Need to come, wanna come. For you, all for you.” 

Eddie didn’t need to hear anything else as he dove back into you, eating you like a man starved. You couldn’t help but to grind your hips down onto his slender fingers as he showered your clit with attention. Your orgasm hit you hard and fast, making you clench down around his hand. “That’s a fucking good girl.” He mumbled, as he slowly retracted his fingers from you, moving to stick them into his mouth. You stopped him by the wrist as you leaned down to take them into your own. 

He cursed under his breath watching you suck his fingers clean of the mess. “You really were made just for me.” The words were quiet, but you heard them. Eddie stood, finding a towel to clean you up with before he tucked himself back into his pants. You straightened out your skirt, opting to take your ruined panties off, sticking them into his jacket pocket to find later.

He turned to you, a goofy grin covering his face. “So, round two at the hotel right?”

Anyone want a rockstar!Eddie series of sorts? Just a compiled list of having sex with Eddie in different places.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson #stranger things smut #smut #kat writes

[anthotneystark]

One taste of your life (And I own your soul)

So I heard it was @thefreakandthehair's birthday and then I finished writing this, so Lex this is basically just for you now!

The day starts like any other.

He wakes up screaming, shaking, a cold sweat trailing down his spine. He takes a few minutes to pull himself together, reminds himself it’s all over, ignores the feeling of heavy, dark air on his skin. He ignores the sound of screaming in his head, the tightness in his chest. Before he’s really ready, but after he should already have been moving, he pushes himself up and drags himself into his routine.

He showers, feels like he’s trying to scrub the fear and pain off of himself, and hopes that one day that will actually work. He catches himself looking around as he gets dressed, an uneasy feeling prickling at the back of his neck. It’s the feeling of being watched. But there’s no one in his room, so he shakes it off and moves on.

He has his morning phone call with Robin as they both make breakfast. His heart aches at the thought of her being so far away, just the same as he knows hers does, but he’d refused to let her put off school just because he wasn’t ready to leave yet. She comes back when she can, he’s made trips to visit her, but it’ll never feel right until they can live in the same place again. He won’t make her feel bad for getting out, not when he wanted her to, not when he’s so happy that she’s out there doing things she loves and having fun.

When it’s time, when he can leave too, they’ll get a place together and never have to be apart again.

For now though, instead of gossiping during a morning car ride, he tells her all the drama she’s missing out on and lies about how he’s definitely eating over the sink so his bagel crumbs are contained.

When she has to go, her classes beckoning, he lets her go and tells her he’ll update her with the next schedule his boss puts out. He’s on days right now, but he’s hoping he’ll be on nights soon.

With Robin gone, and Family Video destroyed back in March, he hasn’t bothered to go back into the rental business. He opted to follow a different career path, and with the amount of people who fled the town, the fire department had gladly taken him on. Turns out, for someone who likes to take care of people and is willing to take on tasks like herding a group of rambunctious pre-teens, being a paramedic has been the perfect fit.

He throws on his uniform, laces up his boots, and ignores that feeling pricking at the back of his neck as he walks to his car. He looks around, but it’s a calm day. There’s barely a breeze in the trees; the leaves are still, the world is quiet.

There’s no one there.

The drive is easy, navigating the new roads built from his house to the center of town. Once everything started being rebuilt, mostly by the people who were convinced it was worth it to stay, things settled down. With the cracks in the earth closed up, with homes rebuilt, it looked almost like nothing had happened.

He lost count of how many times he wished nothing had happened.

He let himself get lost in the boredom of no emergencies throughout the day, let himself be distracted by the adrenaline of people needing help. There’s a kitchen injury on Maple Street, a ladder incident on Avalon Court, even a legitimate kitten in a tree call just down from the high school. Being the youngest, and thus the one thrown into the grunt work more often than not, he’d been sent on up to get it. It wasn’t his first kitten rescue, not with more than a few displaced pets, but the kitten only scratched him a little as he pulled it into his arms.

Back on the ground, kitten back in the arms of its person, he’d made quick work of cleaning up the blood that welled up on his hand. His movements stilled as he went to bandage it, his eyes darting up, looking around but seeing no reason for the hair on the back of his neck to stand up. He brushed the feeling aside.

There was no reason to be on edge.

If anyone had asked him back in high school, he’d have said that 24 hours was a long time, plenty of time.

If anyone had asked him after he found out monsters were real, he’d have said 24 hours was an eternity when the chips were down.

If anyone had asked him today, he’d say 24 hours is a blink, a breath, it’s nothing, a blip of time that only carries meaning once it’s over, once you can feel the loss of it.

Loss or not, he’s more relieved when it’s over and he can go home again. The feeling has stuck with him, the hair on the back of his neck, the on edge, the vigilance. It happens, he’s aware, but he’s also aware that today he’s just being dramatic, just being paranoid. As he waits for his shift to end, his 24 hours nearly up, he watches the bats finish their hunt in the almost-dawn light. They’re a mix of swooping and flailing, graceful and clumsy, and not for the first time, he thinks of a boy who was the same.

He thinks of curly hair and a devilish smile, kind eyes and loud laughter. He thinks of rough hands and the gentle curl of smoke from his lips.

It’s not the first time he’s stolen his thoughts and made his heart ache, and it won’t be the last.

The sting lessens the fear that’s shadowed him all day, and he looks up at the approaching dawn with the phantom hand on his shoulder.

The alarm doesn’t ring in the time he’s got left. He shares the easy camaraderie he has with his team, familiar but not family, because even if he doesn’t love them like his kids, he has to love them enough to have his back when they’re out on the truck. Trusting them enough is easy, he’s used to relying on partnerships and love has always come too easily to him.

But that love isn’t the same as what he’s built through much more real dangers. They know him, but they don’t know him enough to see the struggle of pulling on a smile. They know how to read him in the smoke but they don’t know how to read the emotions he shoves down under bravado and jokes.

It’s fine, they don’t need to. But knowing they can’t does nothing to ease the ache and alarm under his skin.

His whole drive home, he sees shadows out of the corner of his eye. A fleeting movement there. A noise here. He doesn’t run from his car into the safety of his home, he knows better. He knows what lurks in the shadows.

As he steps through the door, the feeling fades, vanquished by the safety of a space that’s his. He slips out of his uniform, puts off doing laundry for later, and drops into the couch in nothing but his undershirt and boxers. He closes his eyes and flicks on the TV, the sound just loud enough to drown out the noise of a creature approaching.

Without warning, with only the briefest sense of alarm flaring up, a small weight comes out of nowhere and lands squarely on his chest.

He doesn’t flinch.

Instead, he lifts his head, lifts an eyebrow, and pulls on his most unimpressed look.

“If I was standing, I’d be doing the Mom Pose.”

The bat, fluffy and almost too dark, just chirps happily at him before crawling up to hide in the crook of his neck.

He doesn’t try to move it.

It doesn’t take much longer for that telltale poof-flash-pop of time and space and whatever else is involved in the transformation, and then he’s left not with a clingy flying rodent, but a clingy metalhead with too-sharp teeth and an unusual diet.

Eddie yawns and settles into his side, nosing at his neck until Steve sighs and tilts his head away.

“You didn’t get enough mosquitos this morning? Or throughout the day when you were following me around?”

“How did you know I was following you around?”

“Survival instinct, I felt you,” Steve retorts. He feels Eddie’s grin against his neck before the sharp sting of his fangs, the sticky-warm feeling of pleasure kicking in moments later. A moan escapes him, but he’s long since given up on being ashamed of enjoying this moment too. Eddie doesn’t take much before his tongue is sealing up the wounds, pulling off of him with a wet pop.

“I’ll have to work on being sneakier then,” Eddie says, using Steve’s blissful relaxation to turn his head toward him, stealing a kiss much the same as he’d stolen lunch; with zero complaints and Steve wholeheartedly on board.

“You do that,” Steve laughs, the words muffled against Eddie’s lips. His own yawn interrupts the next kiss, but he doesn’t need to worry about being too tired. It’s a perfect excuse for Eddie to scoop him up and carry him to bed. The curtains are pulled closed, the covers pulled back, and there, in a bed that felt hostile just 24 hours earlier, Steve sinks into the safety of a man who any sane person would be terrified of just by reputation alone.

There, in arms that are stronger than any human, looking up into eyes that are red when the light hits them just right, Steve lets himself surrender into the sleep that calls his name. There are no screams in his head now, just whispered words about hobbits and dwarves and an adventure that Steve never manages to stay awake to hear in full. That’s okay though, Eddie will read those words to him as many times as needed, with a devilish smile and the occasional curl of smoke from his lips, with rough hands so gently brushing through locks of chestnut hair.

All is right with his world, the weight in his heart has lightened, and there’s no need to be afraid.

Posted on Ao3 too!

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #kat writes #stranger things #Happy birthday Lex! #mwah ilusm

[babyhuggy]

nattys - l. hughes x childhood friend & rower!reader

a social media!au

a/n: a lil self-indulgent social media!au bc ncaas are coming up soon and i had to… also nattys are in jersey this year instead of florida so i thought it was fitting :)

also, this may become a multi-part series depending on if you guys like it!! maybe even going deeper into the background of their friendship/relationship?? lmk if you want to see more!

-

lhughes_06 posted to their story

yourusername a little look into the last week 🫶

liked by texasrowing, texascoxes, ybffuser, lhughes_06, and 13,355 more

yourfriend this is so cute!!!

⤷ yourusername ilysm 🥰

yourteammate1 love love love

⤷ yourteammate2 matching cowboy hats 🫡

texasrowing that's our stroke seat 💪💪

⤷ yourusername starboard side, strong side ☺️

⤷ ybffuser THATS MY BEST FRIEND!!!!

randomuser1 woah what's luke hughes doing here??

⤷ user2 👀

⤷ user3 oop is that a soft launch i see??

⤷ hockeyfan1 guys didn’t the hughes’ say they grew up across the street from her and that they train together over the summers?

⤷ user4 i think they did an interview bc her dad played hockey or coached 🤔

lhughes_06 Michiganders take Austin 🤟 #nattysinaweek

tagged yourusername

liked by yourusername, jackhughes, _quinnhughes, edwards.73, and 22,618 others

dylanduke25 bro just dips and becomes a longhorns fan? unacceptable!!

⤷ yourusername we just do it better here ig 🤷‍♀️

⤷ _quinnhughes Blue and Maize all the way

⤷ yourusername quinny, no.

jackhughes Damn... On main too!

⤷ yourusername oh jack, it was bound to happen...

⤷ lhughes_06 not like we haven't been dating for the last year

⤷ hockeyfan01 THEY'RE DATING?!?!

⤷ randouser1 hard launch alert 🚨🚨

yourusername i love you

elblue6 You guys are so cute!

⤷ yourusername love you mama e!!

⤷ elblue6 Good luck in Florida! We're cheering you on from home!

-

one week later…

yourusername DONE. NATIONAL CHAMPIONS. #hookem

tagged texasrowing

liked by lhughes_06, texasrowing, ybffuser, jackhughes, and 20,876 others

lhughes_06 So proud! I love you!

⤷ yourusername i love you, longtime!! thank you for being there and taking that picture of me and my dad 😚

⤷ ybffuser I love you guys so much its sickening

elblue6 We're so proud of you Yn!!

⤷ yourusername I love you so much! Thank you for your endless support 🥹

jackhughes The only time I'll ever be a Longhorns fan is when you're racing. So freaking proud of you!

⤷ yourusername we've come a long way from those garage shoot outs.. love you jack!

⤷ user1 its the way yn has such a good relationship with luke's family >>

⤷ user2 ik its so cute ☺️

colecaufield Summer training with a natty champ???

⤷ yourusername as if we haven't done that every summer

yourteammate1 LETS FUCKING GO

⤷ ybffuser MY BEST FRIENDS ARE NATIONAL CHAMPIONS

⤷ lhughes_06 MY GIRLFRIEND IS A NATIONAL CHAMPION

⤷ trevorzegras I DONT KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT ROWING BUT IM PROUD ANYWAYS

lhughes_06 My girlfriend is a national champion and an NCAA Woman of the Year nominee. I love you Yn and I'm so proud to have seen you achieve your dreams over the last decade!

tagged yourusername, texasrowing

liked by yourusername, colecaufield, jackhughes, texasrowing, and 33,508 others

yourusername brb gonna cry

yourusername i love you so much luke

_quinnhughes Watching you grow up and achieve these things is amazing. I love you Yn, proud to call you one of my best friends!

⤷ yourusername love you so much quinny! so so so happy you shanked that puck across the street that one summer

⤷ jackhughes aren't we all?

⤷ lhughes_06 I am 🙋‍♂️

hockeyfan1 whipped

dylanduke25 So happy for you yourusername thanks for making my best friend happy

⤷ yourusername love you duker! thanks for putting up with him while i'm away :)

⤷ edwards.73 Yn out here doing God's work

⤷ lhughes_06 You should have met high school Yn then...

⤷ yourusername LUKE WARREN HUGHES!

⤷ colecaufield Oooo looks like moosey's in trouble!

randomuser I love their interactions and the love they all have for each other!!

#luke hughes #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine #Quinn Hughes imagine #michigan hockey #babyhuggy writes #rower!reader au #kat writes

[bethelighthalazia]

I was scared!

Summary:  You and Jongho were a couple for almost a year, you visited a concert of his, standing in barricade spots. Noone could have imagined that you suddenly can't be found in the crowd anymore, which had suddenly started to push each other slightly. Completely written from Jongho´s point of view.

Pairing: bf!Jongho x fem!reader, established relationship

Word Count:  1233

Warnings: angsty (?), mentioned panic attack/anxiety, mentioned crowded place, description of fear (?), fluff in the end

[note: it´s not very long, but i had fun writing it from Jongho´s point of view. RE-UPLOAD from my old blog @/justsomedreaming]

© by bethelighthalazia. Do not repost, copy or translate. Unless stated otherwise, those works are mine and born from my own ideas. I don't have any claim on the mentioned real existing Idols whatsoever.

Y/n. She has been the light of my life for almost a year now. The both of us met during a fansign, I just fell in love with her that day and soon we had started dating. Even though it was hard at first with keeping it hidden, I soon decided to make it public. I didn't want to hide my feelings for her, nor how happy y/n made me. Hongjoong and the other hyungs were very supportive and welcomed y/n into our lives. She finished her fashion master's degree only shortly before we started dating and soon, Hongjoong hyung helped her with getting a job in our stylist team, mainly responsible for the outfits. That way, she was able to stay close with us. 

This time though, she wanted to see our performance from ATINY's view once again, so I made sure to get her a VIP ticket and backstage pass. We once customized a Lightiny for each other, which she took with her when we arrived at the location and she had to find her spot in the audience area. 

The moment we stepped out on stage, I found her gaze, never truly letting her out of sight, not only because I couldn't resist looking at my beautiful girlfriend, but also to check on her. I knew she struggles with crowded places and it was very clear to us that the host didn't meet all safety measures fully. The audience was squished into the rather tight space, I could see y/n slowly struggling and losing her calm expression. Even her eyes told me that she was terrified of all the people pushing and squeezing against each other. For a moment, only a few seconds, I looked at our captain to see his reaction to the situation, he had stopped the last performance to assess the problem. When I looked back to where y/n was standing, my heart stopped.

She wasn't there anymore. All of a sudden, I couldn't find y/n’s beautiful face anywhere in the crowd. Hongjoong hyung actually started to tell people to stop pushing into the areas, Mingi hyung told the security to open side gates, so the fans could get out safely since we finished the last song. The host really didn't plan it well and the hyungs were furious. But I couldn't focus on anything, a stinging pain in my chest when worry took over. What if y/n got hurt or was having a panic attack and I wasn't there for her? 

I didn't even realize that my body had moved until a hand around my upper arm stopped me from climbing down the stage to find her.

“Jongho, you can't.” It was Seonghwa hyung’s voice, and even though I knew he was right, I pulled against his grip. Only when another set of hands helped him to hold me back, they managed to navigate me from the stage and out of the building through one of the backstage doors. When the cold air hit me, I just dropped onto the stairs, a dry sob escaping me. “Sh- she was in the crowd there…y/n was- I didn't see her anymore-” 

My voice cracked, an icy feeling wrapped around my heart, my chest felt as if something coiled around it and squeezed all air out of my lungs. My hand was still clinging to my microphone, the little lucky charm that y/n made for me dangling from its end. I know that my eyes were aimlessly glancing around, it all felt like a blur of my vision, not able to make out a real thought aside of my worry for y/n. Well, that is until I noticed the Lightiny in the corner of my eyes. Y/n’s Lightiny. Holding my breath, I turned my head just a bit, another dry sob squeezed out between my lips when I saw that it was San holding it. He must have been standing with me all the time, because I could hear him thank someone for bringing it out to us and asking them to keep searching.

When he heard the sound I made, he sat down beside me, resting his empty hand on my shoulder, I could feel it squeeze comfortably. “Y/m, is she-” I whispered, my voice cracking once again, tears starting to sting in my eyes when San just shook his head. “Not yet. They found it with her stuff near one of the backstage doors. We hope that she slipped out and just hid backstage to calm down.” 

His words just increased my worries. What if she got pushed and got hurt physically? Did she maybe stumble and hit her head or worse? A quiet cracking sound got to my ears, but I didn't pay attention, only thinking about her. That is, until San's hand pried my hand open to release my microphone from it, I squeezed it hard enough to break it. I didn't even notice that a little piece of it had cut into my palm.

“Found y/n.” 

It was only quietly that I heard these words, my vision blurry as I stood up, almost knocking over San who was supporting me, because I must have swayed a little, when standing up, I got slightly dizzy from the sudden change of position. “T- they found her?” My voice still hoarse, I moved automatically, blinking quickly when I walked inside into the darker surroundings and out of the sunlight. San walked directly behind me, I could feel his hand on my back from time to time but when I saw her, I stopped. Seonghwa had his outfit jacket around her shoulders, speaking calmly at her. “Y/n…” 

She must've heard my voice, because y/n looked up and her eyes widened as she suddenly ran towards me. Her arms wrapping around my middle, I stumbled slightly backwards, falling onto my butt, pulling her with me. My own arms wrapped around her, I made sure to keep her on top of me, so she wouldn't possibly get hurt. I couldn't stop myself from hiding my face against her neck, just holding her close for now.

“Y/n…I- I was so scared-”

My voice cracked once again and I could feel her body being shaken by sobs, my hyungs just staring at me for what I had said. They never really witnessed me being scared, so this was a first for them. Behind us, I could hear Seonghwa telling San in a whispering voice, that they had found y/n in our backstage room where we had prepared, hiding under one of my coats that I wore on our way here. This actually let me chuckle a bit in between my own quiet sobs, of course she hid in the most obvious spot and yet no one found her for a while.

This day truly showed me what fear feels like, especially the fear of possibly losing the person who makes me whole. I had been so scared she could have gotten hurt or anything, that everything only felt like a blur for me. When I looked at her, I couldn't help but take her face in both my hands to kiss her, the first time I did so in front of anyone, but I didn't care. I was just so relieved that she was alright. 

taglist: @mingis-mizu, @tinyelfperson

(if you want to be added to a taglist, follow the taglist-link in my pinned post)

#ateez #ateez fanfiction #ateez imagines #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez angst #kat writes #kat writes <3 #ateez scenarios

[cinematicnomad]

several sentences sunday

tagged by @mellaithwen 🥰 i am forever idly working on a derek POV companion fic for taste your beating heart. right now it's only about 6k long and i've made it to...oh, the end of chapter 1 from the original fic? but i envision this as a shorter fic, maybe 30k tops. so have a scene from near the start when derek and stiles first speak:

“No?” Stiles sneered. “Is this a pattern of the Hales, big guy? Tell me something, Derek—is Cora going to come after you only to find your body in pieces? Why are you here?” 

Derek lunged at him, a little wild, his fangs dropping fast as he shoved Stiles up against the wall. He did his best not to press as hard as he wanted, not to dig his claws into the tender give of Stiles’ flesh. He wanted to though—God, he wanted to so badly. His shift itched at the back of his eyes.

It would be easy to hurt Stiles. Derek wouldn’t have to try hard, he’d simply have to let himself press a little harder. Here was the boy who had desecrated Laura’s grave, who’d mocked Derek’s grief, and was best friends with the wolf who forced him to bite an Argent. 

But that wasn’t all Stiles was, wasn’t all he’d done over the course of the years they’d known each other. Distantly, he recalled the comforting weight of Stiles’ hand on his shoulder as he kneeled in two inches of water and cradled Boyd’s lifeless body in his arms. It hadn’t been much—couldn’t turn back time or save Boyd’s life—but it had been more kindness than Derek had come to expect from life. Certainly more than he’d come to expect from anyone in Beacon Hills. 

He forced himself to breathe evenly. 

“I don’t think you have any right to talk about my family and bodies in pieces,” he said, his throat tight around the grief that choked him. “Or did you conveniently forget how you dug up my sister and had me arrested for her murder?” 

A person with a stronger sense of self-preservation might cow in the face of a pissed off werewolf. Not Stiles though. Never Stiles. His lips curled back to expose his own snarl as he said, “I think I can say whatever the fuck I want when you’re staying in my house and endangering me and my dad.” 

The anger drained from Derek then. 

Stiles pushed off the wall and slipped out of Derek’s hold easily. His lips were still moving but Derek couldn’t hear him above the roar in his head. He didn’t want to be here—in this God forsaken town or this home—didn’t want to be a threat to whatever delicate balance of safety Stiles had carved out for himself and his father. 

He was only planning on staying as long as was polite before he begged off in a few days. Derek was here for the sole reason that Scott had insisted and he was the Alpha. And he couldn’t say no to him. Not really. 

But there was no reason to force more intimacy than was necessary. He didn’t need to make friends with Stiles or burden him with his presence. Didn’t even really need to make conversation with him, either. And so he swiped his duffel bag off the floor where he’d dropped it and made his way upstairs. It didn’t matter what Stiles thought of him. He was here for one purpose: to figure out what had called him back to Beacon Hills. 

Once he sorted it out he could leave again. For good, this time. 

tagging: whoever wants to do this tbh

#kat writes #taste your beating heart #adjacent #teen wolf #sterek #derek hale #stiles stilinski #work in progress #tagged in

[claudemblems]

Stop and Stare | Genshin Impact

Summary: Moments where Alhaitham, Wanderer, Tartaglia, Diluc, and Tighnari stop and admire just how beautiful you are to them (fem!reader).

Notes: I hope this is an enjoyable read. Feel free to suggest any other characters you'd like to see me include next time! 💕

Tagging @seveninchesfrominsanity as requested 💖

Alhaitham finds you standing on one of the many balconies overlooking the sleepy city of Sumeru, your gaze trained not on the sights below but on the heavenly hosts up above. Your eyes are illuminated by the twinkling starlight, and from where he's observing you, the top of the moon sits perfectly above your head like a halo. Alhaitham's breath hitches in his throat, and he finds himself uncharacteristically at a loss for words. He's read an exhaustive list of academic literature, and he's studied and mastered a myriad of languages, but still he fails to find the right words to perfectly describe the beauty he sees right in front of him.

Wanderer is waiting patiently as you gather some wild flowers when he's struck by a mesmerizing sight. A lone petal falls off a nearby sakura tree, drifting in the wind until it finally settles in your hair. Instantly, his eyes grow wide and his porcelain cheeks flush. You have no idea about the petals or how Wanderer is staring at you with an awestruck look on his face, but that's what makes this moment so much more precious. You don't try to make yourself look breathtaking: you just are. Now he's tempted to gather some sakura petals of his own. Perhaps he could fashion them in your hair, if you'll allow him.

Tartaglia is taking you on a tour of his homeland when he stops in his tracks, heart skipping a beat in his chest. You watch in childlike wonder as snowflakes begin to fall around you, covering the already white grounds with a fresh blanket of snow. A smile adorns your face as you try to catch them midair, and Tartaglia discovers that a smile of his own begins to form on his lips, growing wider and wider by the second. With your rosy cheeks and hair glistening with crystals of snow, he wonders for a moment if you're actually an angel. He doesn't deserve you, but he'll spend a lifetime trying to become someone worthy enough of being by your side.

Diluc hadn't expected you to help him pick grapes when he'd invited you over to the Winery, but he was pleasantly surprised by just how much fun work could be when done with someone he loved. The afternoon sun shines on your skin as anemo crystalflies flutter by your hair, leaving glittering trails in their wake. Diluc forgets all about the task he was meant to be doing, too captivated by just how magical you look. You remind him of the many princesses found in the classic fairy tales, always surrounded by animals and nature and described as beautiful beyond compare. Diluc thought that he didn't believe in the idea of true love that those stories proposed, but with you standing here at his side, positively radiant with goodness and light, Diluc knows that you will forever be the object of his affections. He will treasure you until the end of time.

Tighnari has seen many wondrous sights throughout his time as a forest ranger, but all of them pale in comparison to you: his lover, his confidant, and most of all, his best friend. He watches in silence as you stop in the middle of your patrols once more, running off to try to catch an aranara that had crossed your path. It's hard for him not to start laughing at your silly antics. Even with your brows furrowed and lips tugging downwards into a pout, Tighnari still surmises that you're the most ethereal creation in all of Teyvat. Even when the newness of everything else has worn off, you still always manage to steal his breath away. There isnt a single thing about you that he doesn't adore. If only you knew just how much you have him wrapped around your finger. He smiles at the thought, letting a chuckle slip out of him when you return with an aranara tucked into your arms, beaming ear to ear in delight. But if he told you, he thinks, he'd never hear the end of it.

#kat writes #genshin impact #genshin x reader #alhaitham x reader #wanderer x reader #tartaglia x reader #diluc x reader #tighnari x reader

[shenyaanigans]

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ new fic! ˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ "nobody's loved me like you" m | 6k | hazbin hotel | husker x angel dust read on ao3

#hazbin hotel #huskerdust #husk x angel dust #hazbin angel dust #hazbin husker #kat writes #i got got boys. i got got

[a-bang-for-your-bucky]

Se Zaldrīzes Dārilaros

A/N: Coming out with a new character for the new year! This was for a lil gift exchange in the HotD discord channel I'm in! I was lucky to get @carefulnowprincess! I hope you love it! <3 thank you @acrossthesestars for beta-ing! Divider from @firefly-graphics!

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x Fem!Reader

Warnings: SMUT (PIV, oral [fem receiving], blood kink, armor kink, knife kink, choking, breeding kink) over-usage of nicknames, dom/sub tones, zero plot, all smut.

a/n: ñuha rūklon means my flower in Valyrian. Se Zaldrīzes Dārilaros means The Dragon Prince.

It was a long wait. Years, in fact. Your husband, the Prince of Dragonstone, Daemon Targaryen, was off fighting a war in the Stepstones, trying to regain the Narrow Sea from the Crabfeeder in the name of the King - in his own name, if he was being honest. You had to be the dutiful wife, and wait for him to come home.

If he came home. 

Your stomach grew sour at the thought of him not returning, at the thought of him dying. Though your marriage was one of convenience, of politics, you did grow to care for the rough, jagged edges that made Daemon who he was. 

The sun had set many hours ago, and you were still lying restless in your marriage bed. Even though you had your own quarters in the castle, this was the only place you could find some comfort. It was there you heard the unmistakable whistle of Caraxes. In only your dressing gown, you lept from the bed, ignoring all pleas from your handmaiden. You ran as fast as your legs would carry you to the welcome hall of the castle. There, covered in blood and dirt, stood your husband. 

The relief of seeing him with your own eyes released the hold fear had over your body. As soon as Daemon spotted you, his smile dropped, and his eyes raked over your appearance. Your gown was sheer, showing every inch of you it covered. He stalked toward you, his armor clanking with every movement. Ripping a cloth from a nearby table, he draped it over you once he was close enough. 

Daemon hoisted you up over his shoulder, stalking away from the men who called out to stop him. “I have to give details on the war I just single-handedly won, and you walk out in front of everyone all but naked. Tell me why I shouldn’t punish you in front of them?” he growled, kicking open the door to your shared room. 

He dropped you to the bed unceremoniously, the surprise of the impact drawing a squeal from your lips. When he stepped back you took the chance to really look over him, to gaze upon what you had been missing so desperately. His silver hair was matted with the blood of his enemies, his armor stained with vengeance. His face was tired and dark circles bloomed under his eyes. You wanted to speak, wanted to ask him what happened while he was away, but you knew your place here. The questions would have to wait. 

The rogue prince noticed your staring, smirking down at you. You felt bare under his gaze, and attempted to cover yourself.  He gripped your ankles, pulling you roughly to the edge of the bed. Leaning over you, he placed a sweet kiss to your lips. “Do not dare to hide from me, rūklon.” Daemon grabbed the bottom of your gown in one hand as he quickly unsheathed a dagger with the other. The silver blade sliced through the fabric easily, and he tossed it to the ground. He ripped the rest until it was just scraps hanging from your body. “If you wish me to stop, speak now,” he said, his voice low and dangerous, giving you the chance to refuse him. 

"N-no," you stuttered out, before clarifying, “don’t stop, my prince.”

Daemon chuckled darkly at your enthusiasm as he straightened back up, running his hands up your calves. You whined at the rough feel of his fingers as he murmured about how soft your skin was. He spread your legs, the smell of your arousal hit him hard. "Look at you. Already fucking soaked for me. Who are you wet for?" He questioned, slowly dragging his tongue over his bottom lip as he looked up at you. 

"You, my prince," you mewled, "Always for you." He swiped a finger up your folds, collecting your essence on the calloused tip. You watched as he wrapped his plush lips around the digit, groaning as your flavor burst on his tongue. 

"You always taste so good for me, ñuha rūklon," Daemon praised, dropping to his knees. You propped yourself up on your elbows. It was a sight to behold having him on his knees before you. He leaned forward, his tongue licking a broad strip from your dripping cunt to your clit and you let out a strangled sound as he attached his lips to the nub, sucking lightly. 

"That's it. Moan for me," Daemon ordered between licks. He paused for a moment, taking two fingers into his mouth, soaking them with his spit before slipping them into your tight heat. 

You whimpered at the intrusion as Daemon's mouth went back to work. With his mouth and fingers working in tandem, you found yourself edging closer and closer to your orgasm. "Dae- Daemon, please. Please!” You begged over the obscene wet sounds your body made. He groaned into you, sending vibrations over your most sensitive parts.

His fingers never stopped, the pads hitting that soft, spongy spot with precision. “Come for me," he instructed, before adding, “be the good girl I know you are and come for me.” A scream tore through you, your hands reaching for his hair, tangling into his silver locks, using it as leverage to push his face deeper into you. Daemon mumbled incoherently as he tipped you over the edge, your walls squeezing his fingers tightly. “Such a good girl. My good girl,” he praised as he pressed kisses to your inner thighs, watching as you came down from your high. He removed his fingers slowly and you whimpered at the loss of them.

Your husband stood abruptly, ripping at his armor. 

“Wait!” You exclaimed, reaching out for the armor. “Fuck me in it.” 

“What was that?” He questioned as if he didn’t hear you. 

“The armor, my prince. I want you to fuck me in it.” You bit your lip shyly causing him to simper. Leaving on his breastplate and pauldrons, he slowly started to remove the rest. 

Using your legs, you wrapped them around his ass and pulled him forward. He laughed before you kissed him deeply, nipping at his bottom lip. Your hands roamed down his back to his slender waist before slipping them between your bodies and freeing his cock from the confines of his breeches. “So needy,” Daemon teased before throwing his head back in pleasure as you began to rub against him. 

“I need you to fuck me.” You knew he hated when you whined, but he almost always gave in, not quite cruel enough to deny you. 

Daemon grabbed your face, applying light pressure to your jaw. “You are forgetting your place. I am in control here.” His words sent shivers up your spine, and had you nodding like an idiot. “Words, princess.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Good girl. Now open.” You obeyed, opening your mouth wide for him, sticking your tongue out in show. “Get my fingers wet.” He placed his fingers in your mouth and you closed your lips around them.  You accumulated as much saliva as you could, using your tongue to push it around on his digits. You could taste a hint of your first orgasm clinging to his skin, causing you to moan.

He removed them suddenly, creating a wet sound, a filthy sound. You watched as he fisted his cock, coating it in your spit. Daemon lined himself up with your cunt, rubbing the head through the mess he'd already made of you. He pushed inside your velvety walls, growling as they sucked him in. “Fuck," he moaned. “Always so tight for me, even after fucking you open with my fingers.” You whimpered as he bottomed out, grinding into you. He started with a slow, tantalizing pace, gripping your thighs, spreading them wider. “Listen to how wet you are, princess. All for my cock,” he purred, increasing the force of his thrusts. “Oh, I have missed this. I have missed you.” 

Daemon paused, relishing in the moment, only to remove himself from your body. With rough hands, he positioned you onto your knees with your head flat against the bedding. He reentered you without warning, only a callused hand running up your spine. You had missed him too, although you would never tell him. His ego was large enough. 

He reached forward, twisting his hand in your hair as he pounded into you. Your walls tightened around him and he let a low animalistic growl. "Like that, huh? Want your prince to be rough with you?" He reached his other hand up and wrapped it around your neck. It was just tight enough to bring you a touch of dangerous ecstasy. 

"Fuck. You feel so good," Daemon grunted, his thrusts starting to falter, and you knew he wasn't going to last much longer. “Need you to come for me, ñuha rūklon.”  He released your hair and slipped a hand between your legs rubbing tight circles on your sensitive nub, making you cry out as your walls fluttered around his cock. 

He was lost in you, relishing in the feel of your cunt clenching around him. “M’gonna breed you. M’gonna fuck my heir into you. Please, let me?” He rasped out, moving your hair away from your neck. You nodded fiercely, begging him to fill you. His groans were muffled as he emptied himself deep inside you. 

He barely had time to tear off his armor before falling over in a heap of sweaty limbs, the two of you drifted to sleep tangled up together, your need sated for the time being.

also tagging: @mylifeisactuallyamess @munsonownsmyass @tea-and-wine

#Daemon Targaryen x reader #Daemon Targaryen x fem!reader #daemon targaryen smut #house of the dragon #smut #kat writes

[anthotneystark]

But when it's your brother (Sometimes you look the other way)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/50990221

Dustin turns seventeen on a perfect day. It’s warm, but hasn’t quite hit that heavy, draining heat that summer promises, the one that can only be beat by decent air conditioning or free ice cream.

He turns seventeen and his mom looks like she’s going to cry, but it’s good, it’s great, it’s a perfect day.

(Or, I finished writing a lot of thoughts about Dustin turning the same age as Steve was when they became friends - started over here with @thefreakandthehair)

#kat writes #kat's fics #Lex I did it! I finished writing!

[ninja-go-to-therapy]

Defeated and Trophied

@badthingshappenbingo

Prompt: I would love to see your interpretation of Branch being captured instead of Floyd, like the original concept in the movie. Used for Defeated and Trophied.

Fandom: Trolls (Dreamworks)

Character: Branch

Trigger Warnings: kidnapping, torture, multiple mentions of death and being killed, though nothing graphic

1744 words

Fear was an old friend to Branch.

It had been a rare acquaintance back when he was a child — back in the days in which his biggest concerns had been thunderstorms and a dark room. 

From the moment he’d turned grey, it had crept its way beside him, a creature that would never grant him peace again. 

After all, no one else was around anymore to chase it away for him.

As he’d grown up, it remained consistently by his side. It was a constant voice in the back of his head, screaming at him to watch for bergens, boil the drinking water, always be ready for that which longs to kill you. 

Yes, fear was an old friend indeed. But he’d learned early on how to hold it close to his chest. One slip up and he could be devoured. 

So when he woke up in a diamond bottle, two massive creatures looming over him, he didn’t show his terror. He didn’t scream as he so wanted to, and most importantly, he would not resort to begging.

They were tall, comparable to a bergen in that regard. But where bergens were stocky creatures, these were lanky. Their skin was shiny and hard-looking, a far cry from the soft fluff of a troll.

Whatever they were, he’d never seen one before. 

His stomach churned with anxiety. Normally, he was knowledgeable enough to at least have some idea of what monster he may have been dealing with. But this… he didn’t know if these things wanted to eat him or worse. 

He knew what Poppy would do if she were here. At the thought of his girlfriend, his heart leapt into his throat. Was she here? Had they gotten her too?

No. He didn’t see her anywhere in the massive room. Thank god. He knew she could take care of herself, but the thought of her being trapped in a claustrophobic diamond prison left him with a bitter taste in his mouth. 

“Who are you?” He called out cautiously. He waited for a response, but the pair — one boy and one girl, he was pretty sure — hardly even reacted to the noise. 

They were both looking at the bottle he was trapped in, yet somehow they remained ignoring him. 

“Hey!” He yelled, quickly losing patience as he pounded a fist against the purple-hued glass. “Let me out of here!”

The boy looked at him (or rather, the jar as a whole, like Branch was nothing more than a pretty decoration inside) with trepidation. “Do you think it’ll work?” He asked hesitantly, like he couldn’t even hear the shouting. 

“Oh,” the girl said, scooping up the jar carelessly and sending Branch tumbling, the wind getting knocked out of him as his body knocked against the hard walls. “It will work.”

“What the hell!” He shouted, furious at the lack of acknowledgement. “Let me out! What do you want?”

With her free hand, the girl held up a small ball…? Examining it closer, though, Branch could see that it was connected to the jar he was held in, making it almost reminiscent of a perfume bottle.

What the hell?

He didn’t know what to expect, but the coming sensation wasn’t something he could have prepared for. All at once, a horrible pressure erupted from the center of his chest, like — like some invisible force was trying to get in.

Distantly, he could feel his body being lifted slightly off the ground, levitating no more than a few short inches. It was hard to even notice, through the agony. It didn’t get any colder in his prison, but he could feel the warmth being pulled out of his skin.

The pressure seeped from his body quickly, and he could almost feel it going right up and out of the bottle, being spritzed like a fine mist over the girl’s body.

As his body dropped down, thudding against the floor, he could hear her belt out a ridiculous riff.

“Wh…?” He coughed, pressing a hand over his heart from his new position on the floor. It felt like a part of his very soul had been sucked right out of him. He felt empty. What was going on? What was happening?

“Wow,” the boy said, reverent of the notes that had just come from the other’s mouth. “Let me try!”

“Wait—” Branch wheezed, unable to catch his breath before being subjected to this again. He tried to brace himself, but it did little to help.

It was almost more intense the second time around, and leaving him feeling somehow even more hollow than before. 

He was shaking from the cold by the time his body dropped back to the floor the second time.

“What are you doing to me?” He croaked, dizzy and freezing.

There was a malicious smirk on the girl’s face, the first thing finally directed at him. 

His heart pounded in dread. He was going to regret even asking, and he knew it. 

———

“He’s kinda cute,” Veneer said, shaking the jar slightly and sending Branch stumbling on unsteady feet back and forth. “Don’t you think so, Vel?”

Velvet glanced back at her brother from where she was touching up her makeup. “Not really,” she said, disinterested.

“Oh, come on, he’s like a feral little chihuahua!” Veneer said, proceeding to coo at Branch. “Who’s a good little troll?”

With the minuscule energy he had left, he glared as strongly as he could. “I will kill you,” he growled. As such a proportionately small creature that was barely standing and also trapped inside a sad little bottle, Branch couldn’t imagine that he looked very intimidating.

“Ugh, feisty thing,” Veneer whined, setting the jar down on a side table. “I don’t know why you’re so upset,” he said, “we take perfect care of you, don’t we? I mean, sure we have to keep you in a little jar, but it’s not like you’re dead or anything.”

“Your talent is being put to much better use on us,” Velvet chimed in, “You should be grateful! It’s not like you were using it for anything important. But thanks to you, we’re currently charting at number one!”

“Did you at least credit me somewhere?” he asked drily.

Veneer leaned over, stage whispering to his sister. “Should we have given him creds?”

“No, you moron! Ugh, come on, we’re going to be late for the photoshoot.”

———

Branch woke from his not-quite-sleep as he’d learned to get used to: by being jostled around like he was a fucking doll.

He groaned weakly, blinking his eyes open to the slightly sleep-blurred vision of a massive eye staring back at him.

After nearly two decades of anticipating a bergen around every corner, his instincts told him he was about to be fucking eaten. But he wasn’t quite so lucky.

“Oh, good,” who he finally recognized as Velvet said, completely flat, “it’s still alive.”

Had he the energy, he would have flipped her off… or something. But as it was, he just curled in on himself, wincing in anticipation. He knew what was coming. It was all the self-proclaimed pop princess (and oh, how that title made his blood boil) ever really interacted with him for.

“Just do it,” he growled, far from complacent, but simply desperate for the bad part to be done and over. He just wanted to rest. 

How long had he been here, now? Two weeks? Three? He’d completely lost track. 

Was Poppy looking for him? What had she thought when he’d just vanished into thin air? What if she gave up on him?

No. That was a stupid thought. He knew her better than that. On their first adventure together, they had literally seen Creek get eaten, and she’d somehow still been determined to save him. And, somehow, she’d been right. Of course, Creek had turned out to be a no-good traitorous piece of shit garbage man, but before that reveal, Poppy had been determined to get him back.

As hard as it was for him to fathom the idea that anyone would ever stay by his side as she had, he was always one to look at the facts. He knew she would refuse to give up until she got him back. He knew, no matter how long it took, she would find him.

As comforting as that was, it also left him feeling wary. Velvet and Veneer weren’t exactly the type that could be subdued by a hug.

He cried out in pain as his talent was drained from him, gasping desperately for breath. He didn’t have much more to give.

“You can’t…” he panted, gritting his teeth. “Can’t use my talent f-orever. S’not sustainable.” He said, snarky as he could manage through the bone-deep exhaustion.

“Oh no,” Velvet lamented, drawn out and dramatic, “whatever will I do?” With little warning, she tossed the jar to Veneer, who only barely caught it.

Branch didn’t have the strength to brace himself. Every inch of his body ached from being thrown around like this.

Velvet draped herself over her makeup chair, legs kicked over the arm of it. “If only I’d thought of that before,” she pouted as Veneer drained another dose from him, leaving Branch’s vision unfocused. “Oh wait! I did.”

“You did?” Veneer asked, apparently unaware of whatever his sister was up to. That seemed to be the common trend, Branch had noticed. 

“Yes, dummy. I told you this troll was a part of BroZone, remember?”

His heart sank at the mention of his br—his former brothers. What did they have to do with this?

“I forged a letter,” Velvet continued, “it will lure the rest of the band here to save their stupid little brother, and then,” her eyes glinted with greed, “we’ll have plenty of troll to keep us on top.”

A thousand bad memories threatened to overwhelm him at once. He could feel his emotions swirling in his chest, and for a moment he was certain he was going to vomit them up. Instead, he managed to scoff out a laugh.

“Yeah,” he said, forcing himself to remain flat and unemotive. If he’d done it for the better part of twenty years, he could do it now, even if he was slightly out of practice. “I’ve got bad news for you. There’s no way in hell any of them are coming for me.”

“Just wait and see, little troll,” Velvet said, confidence unwavering. “Just wait and see.”

#bad things happen bingo #kat's bthb #fandom: trolls #prompt: defeated and trophied #tw kidnapping #tw torture #tw death mention #Branch trolls #bthb #kat writes #fanfiction #trolls fanfiction #brozone #velvet and veneer #whump #hurt/comfort #hurt/no comfort #kidnapping #torture #death mention #broppy