#susan & reader | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hihomeghere · 2 months

Text

Fishing in the dark | Arthur Morgan / Reader

Word Count : 1.3k (a little guy) Summary : You and Arthur have a private evening away from camp on the Dakota River. Warnings/tags : Cursing, unprotected piv, talk of nudity (both male and female), cursing, reader can swim, s3x in the river, established relationship, set in chapter 3

The Dakota River was now your favorite place to be at sunset. The cool breeze coming off the sparkling water, your body cushioned by the bed of grass. The way the setting sun cast a golden light over everything it touched.

Getting away from the gang for a while had been Arthur’s greatest idea yet. After all that mess in Valentine had led you to Clemens point. Sat on the east coast of Flat Iron lake, near the town of Rhodes. Getting eaten alive by mosquitos while the heat of the Scarlett Meadows sun beat down on you.

And although you thought maybe a room in Rhodes would have been a better way to keep each other company, you couldn’t beat this view.

Arthur stood on the shore, fishing pole in hand. His tall silhouette dark against the golden light, his shadow growing longer on the rocks. What a sight, every subtle flick of his wrist, his bicep tensing and he pulled on the pole. You didn’t even know why he was still fishing so late. He had already caught dinner, which you had prepared over a small fire. While along the shore you had picked some burdock root and common bulrush for camp, knowing that Miss Grimshaw could find some use for the plants. At long last the sun fell below the horizon, a sliver of burnt amber spreading across the sky before being enveloped by a dark blue. The moon slowly rose above you. A beautiful yellow spotlight peeking through the trees.

Arthur stood, still as a statue, as though he was carved of marble. A wicked thought entered your head, slowly you moved to unlace your boots. Pulling them off until you could dig your toes into the grassy floor beneath you. Then you untied the strings to your skirt. Letting the fabric fall, along with your shirt. Leaving you standing in only your chemise, and it wasn’t long before that was discarded as well.

Arthur had heard the slight rustling of fabric behind him, but he was honestly too preoccupied with the pole in his hands. Enjoying the quiet serenity of the river. That was until you ran butt ass naked into it.

“Darlin!” He yelled his eyes widening in shock as your laughter joined the sound of water splashing.

“Come on cowboy!” You called submerged to your waist, your breasts above the water for any passersby to see. Maybe it wasn’t your best idea yet, the freezing water chilling your bones.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” He chuckled, unfortunately amused by your actions even though he knew he shouldn’t be.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” You called back, teeth chattering by the sudden drop in temperature.

“It looks like you’re giving anyone that passes through a free peep show.” He called his hand resting on his gun belt as he not so casually adjusted himself. You stepped back further into the dark water until only your shoulders and up were visible.

“When did you become such a prude?” You chided a teasing smile on your lips.

“When someone could lay eyes on my woman.” He said laying down his pole, crossing his arms over his chest. You felt a shiver run down your spine, whether it was from his words or the cold water you couldn’t tell.

“Well get in here and claim your woman before someone else does!” You called, a shit eating grin spreading across your face.

Arthur sighed, looking down as the brim of his hat shielded most of his face from you. Your grin only grew as he unbuckled his gun belt, letting it fall to the ground. He pulled his suspenders off his broad shoulders. He shook his head, his own grin growing on his face as he began to pull off his clothes.

“You’re gonna get it girl.” He warned, his eyes taking on a dark haze. His lips pulling back into a smirk, looking down at you like prey. An electric shock of anticipation ran up your body as he finally pulled off the last layer, his cock springing up against his stomach. He stepped forward, wading into the water. “Jesus!” He yelped, a shiver running through him.

“It’s not that bad!” You called with a laugh.

“Not that-“ He shook his head, “Christ I can’t feel my toes.” He muttered swimming over to you, his arm wrapping around you pulling you close. You wrapped your legs around his waist as you held onto his shoulders

“Hey there.” You grin, watching the water droplets run down his face.

“Howdy.” He muses, you place your hands on his chest, feeling his heart beat against your palm.

“Still cold?” You ask sweetly.

“Very.” He chuckles.

“I think I could warm you up.” You say biting your lip.

“Please do.” He says softly as you lean forward. Your nose bumping against his as you stare him down. He leans forward pressing his lips against yours. His tongue swiping along your lower lip as he pressed you down onto his pelvis. Clenching around nothing as his cock bumped against the nub of your clit, a soft moan leaving your throat.

“I can feel that.” You said softly, biting your lip as you looked into his eyes.

“I’m sure you can.” His chest rumbling as he chuckled. He moved his hand from your waist and reached down between your legs. The tip of his length catching against your entrance. “Think you’re wet enough?” He teases, his teeth glinting in the moonlight as he smirks.

You bite back a rebuttal as he slips inside you with ease, he swallows your gasp as his mouth covers yours. Groaning into your mouth, a deep almost primal noise. One that sends pleasure shooting through your body. You whine as he pulls out slightly, only to press your body down onto his pelvis. His cock rubbing against that spot inside you.

He knows this dance like the back of his hand, how to make you tick, more specifically how to make you scream. The hand that’s not holding your hip with a vice like grip moves up your body, his hands splayed against your stomach. Before reaching up to cup your breast, pinching your nipple.

“Arthur.” You gasp, feeling him rut against you, growling against your neck like a wild animal.

“Feel so good darlin’.” He huffs against your neck, nipping and kissing as he continues his attack on your pussy. His cock thrusting deep strokes against your walls. Your body is buzzing, your toes curling as he brings you closer and closer to your peak. He can feel you flutter around him, his lips quirk up. He moves his hand down to between your legs, rubbing your clit.

You cry out, a pitiful noise as you cum around him. Your nails dig into his shoulders, your brows knit together as your jaw hangs open. He smirks, tilting his head back as a low, shit, leaves his mouth.

His hips start to stutter as he pounds into you, trying to reach his orgasm while you’re still working through yours. He’s quick behind you, his hands holding you so close against him you’re sure you’ll have bruises. He thrusts into you one last time, a choked groan rumbling in his chest. You hold onto him as his dick twitches inside of you. Painting your insides with his seed. You smile up at him lazily, watching his face contort in pleasure.

“Shit darlin’.” He huffs, his chest rising and falling rapidly against your own. The bite of the water is no longer a thought as his warm body presses against yours.

“You warm now, cowboy?” You tease brushing your nose against this neck, pressing a kiss over his pulse point.

“Very.” He chuckles, “But I’d like to get my beautiful girl out of these waters now.” He says grabbing a handful of your ass before throwing you over his shoulder. “I ain’t done with you yet.”

456 notes · View notes

radio-writes · 1 month

Note

Hi, will u do a human alastor x side mistress reader, so basically he has a wife, but he doesn't really love her, so when he's on the air he has sex with his side mistress in the radio tower. His side mistress knows he's a serial killer, by the way. You don't have to do this if u don't want to. I love ur fics.

By the Gold Ring on His Hand

Synopsis: He loved you and only you. You were his to cherish, to adore, to worship. Sweet words he whispered softy, promisingly, into your ear. Sweet words he also whispered softly to his wife.

Warnings: smut, oral (m receiving), mentions of murder, heavy manipulation, cheating

Tags: human!alastor, alastor x reader, gn!reader, reader is the other wo/man

MDNI

You've always revered Alastor.

You were entranced by the way his smile never broke. The way he seemed to take control of any situation he was put in. The he always managed to just charm the socks off of anyone he's ever met.

You loved the way he made little corny jokes. You loved the way he danced—barely drunk from the bottles of rye he downed.

And oh, did you love the way he spoke.

You could listen to him all day on the radio, just absolutely smitten and melting where you stood.

The one thing you didn't love about Alastor—the one thing you despised, really—was his wife.

That naive little thing. So meek, so quiet. You always hated the way she would cling onto his arm at parties. Loathed the way she'd shyly smile at everyone, including you.

There was just no way that delicate stupid girl could satisfy someone like Alastor.

Alastor needed, deserved, a real partner. One that had enough of a spine not to be stepped on, at the very least.

Your fingers twitched, aching to touch him more; to caress his thighs that perfectly framed your head. You wanted to feel him beneath you, reassure your heart that he was here with you.

You groaned as your longing was denied. You felt Alastor press his shoes harder against your hands, pinning your palms to the floor. The fingers in your hair tightened their grip, guiding you more strictly down his cock.

It was enough to cheer you up a little. Although your touch was declined, the little vibrations your sounds made clearly still had an effect on him. You felt a little proud knowing something as small as you moaning around him pleasured the hefty cock in your mouth.

The reality was far more bitter, though. Not that Alastor would ever let you know that.

Truth be told his grip was a warning. He had explicitly told you to be quiet, to keep your hands to yourself. But you seemed to be so adamant on testing his patience today, as you were refusing to do both.

Alastor's smile strained just a tad bit more in annoyance as he spoke into the microphone. "Hate to finish up the broadcast with some sour news, but someone's gotta keep you lovely folks up to date!"

You continued to bob your head between his legs, hidden from the rest of crew by the control panel. You made sure to drag the flat of your tongue over the under side of Alastor's dick each every time you lowered your mouth to his crotch. If your ministrations did anything for him, you couldn't really tell.

His voice was perfect, not a tone out of place as he continued his broadcast. You've never seen a man so well put together while having someone's mouth serve them so reverently.

"Seems the coppers found a couple more for the good old wooden kimonos last night. Grizzly sight it was—so I heard. Hate to be the ones to dig those poor souls out."

Even though he was the one to put them there in the first place, you suppressed a laugh. Not that you were complaining, though. It was part of how you and Alastor finally got together, after all.

Alastor finished up his broadcast, and you continued your slow little prayer on your knees. He waved his staff away when they tried to approach, simply sending them off with a friendly jest that he'd meet them at the bar after he cleaned up his work station.

It was only when the lock clicked behind his crew did Alastor finally acknowledge you. His lovely smile was intact, but you could tell his mood was a little soured by the way his brown eyes narrowed at you from behind his glasses.

The hand gripping your hair pulled you off his cock, a pathetic whine escaping your lips as he did so.

Alastor tried to ignore the—rather off putting—sight of a thin string of fluids connecting your mouth to the head of his dick. He bent down closer to you, keeping his gaze locked on yours.

"My dear, I thought I told you to be quiet while I worked." His voice was as sweet as ever.

You chuckled lightly, you wanted to move your hands to cup his cheek, bring him even closer to you. Perhaps even for a kiss to lift his seemingly bad mood.

The moment Alastor so much as felt your fingers twitch, he stepped harder on your hands again, keeping them pinned to the floor and away from him.

You opted to shrug your shoulders sheepishly instead. "I may have gotten carried away," You responded coyly "You just taste so good."

Alastor did his best not to cringe, choosing to tighten his smile. Ah, you were in one of your moods again, he thought.

"Then why don't you go ahead and have your fill of me now." His hand left the back of your head, resting instead on the sides of his chair as he leaned back. The gold band on his ring finger momentarily caught the light and drew your attention to it.

Your chest tightened just the slightest bit. You absolutely hated the reminder that Alastor wasn't fully yours. That he'd still go home to his stupid wife at the end of the day.

But not for long, at least that's what Alastor had promised you. And not right now.

You ran your tongue along the thick vein of his cock, from the bottom, up its shaft, and smiled at the sight of his hips bucking up to your touch.

"In your mouth now again, darling." It didn't sound like a request, but you obeyed faithfully anyway. You were rewarded with a soft sigh as you welcomed him back in your warm mouth.

You'd bet your job that his sweet little wife never pleased him like this. Skittish thing like that would probably run at the thought of putting her lips on a hard dick.

Well, her loss is your gain.

You were so far gone in your own head that you hadn't even noticed Alastor wasn't looking at you.

No, instead his head craned towards the ceiling of his studio, eyes closed and tired.

He was trying to focus on the physical sensations you brought him, not that he had much of an interest in it in the first place, but he tried hard to concentrate. All he had to do was finish, and he could finally leave. Leave you here with some sweet promises, and not have to deal with your disgustingly loving gaze on him until maybe his next shift on Monday.

Not that spending time with his wife at home felt any more appealing.

He pushed the thoughts away, willing his mind to stay on you instead. He thought he can finish, at least he could feel the bottom of his gut tightening just a tiny fair bit.

He focused on the way your tongue felt as it swirled around him. How your lips stretched so softly to fit his shaft. How you practically drooled over his cock. How you—

You were noisier now that you knew you were alone, and it wasn't doing Alastor any favors. A rather loud moan cutting through his mind and it almost made the coil in his gut loosen completely, his shoulders tensing instead.

No, no this just wouldn't do. He had much more interesting plans tonight than to sit there and buy your silence with his cock.

His hand reached out once more, much less gentle than it was before. With less grace and care, Alastor's hand rested on the back of your neck, before harshly pushing you down as he bucked his hips up.

Your eyes were wide, a surge of panic filled you at the suddenness of the sensation. His dick hit the back of your throat and you tried to pull back immediately.

Alastor's other hand came up to the back of your head to push you back down. Your nose pressed firmly to his skin as his cock pushed past your throat.

Your arms strained as you tried to use your hands to push him away, but Alastor merely stepped on your fingers harsher to get you to stay.

"Ah, fuck, darling. Stay like that. Oh that's lovely." You thought you heard him say.

He was finally looking down at you. The way you heaved as you choked on him. The way your body spasmed to get away. The way panic filled your pretty tearful eyes.

Your throat tightening around him as you tried desperately to breathe felt miles better than whatever you were trying to do before, and it was exactly what he needed.

"Finally," He breathed out softly, almost in a moan, feeling the coil in his gut finally snap. He pressed you down, just the tiniest bit more and you felt his warm seed flow down your willing throat.

"There we go, dear." Alastor's harsh grip in your hair loosened, slowly petting through your locks. The hand on your neck remained, locking you in and rendering you unable to pull free.

Your eyes flickered up to him, part of you ready to beg for mercy, but one sight of his dazed smile made you pliant. Your body relaxed into his touch, simply letting him ride his high out with your bruised throat.

He must have just gotten carried away, that's all. Simply something new he never got to do with his stupid wife.

You felt his softening dick slowly pull out of you, his shaft dragging across your tongue and you finally pulled free with a choked gasp of air.

A gentle hand tipped your face back to meet Alastor's before you could be too dramatic. He pressed a gentle, chaste, kiss to the corner of your lips to calm you.

"You'll have to forgive me, my dear. Your body just makes me feel far too good—just couldn't hold back." The charm practically oozed from his smooth tongue.

Your gaze softened immediately. Your hands, now free from beneath his feet, made their way to his cheeks but he easily pulled back.

Really, what on earth made you think he'd let you touch him with filthy hands. Had you forgotten he'd been stepping on them this entire time? Kind of rude, if you'd ask him.

Not that any of those thoughts showed when Alastor simply, gently, helped you up to your feet by your elbow.

"Always so good to me, my dear. How I got so lucky to have a divine thing like you service me, I'd never know." He stood up with you, part of him did enjoy it whenever he got to look down on you in a more literal sense.

He pressed his body against yours, arms on the control panel behind you as he caged you in. His lips barely grazed your ears as he continued his sweet, sweet, praises. "Why couldn't you have shown up sooner, dear? I would have had it all."

You placed your hand on his chest, failing to notice the way he flinched at the touch. "You still could, you know? All you have to do is leave that naive little thing and I could give you this every night." Your voice was low, seductive, alluring.

Alastor held back an annoyed groan. This again. His eyes rolled, not that you could see it with his head nuzzling against your shoulder.

"We both know I treat you so much better." You continued, hand trailing up to scratch at the hair at the bottom of his neck. "And I'd never hold you back from that little hobby of yours either."

He chuckled at that, you could feel his lips at the base of your neck. "My dear, we've been through this." His kisses were soft, gentle, barely touching you, just like how he preferred it. "You don't have to feel so threatened by her, it's you that I want."

"Then why don't you—"

A gasp passed your lips.

"Leave her?" Alastor continued your sentence when you couldn't. His warm tongue licked over the reddened skin he bit. "I will, my dear, I will. Things are just a bit complicated at the moment."

More complicated than you knew, really.

He couldn't leave his wife because her dad was a big boss of his station. His ass would be out on the streets in minutes if he ever hurt that shy doll.

But he couldn't just kill you either. Not when your dad was the town sheriff.

He was lucky you were so obsessed with him that fucking you once in a while was enough to keep your pretty little mouth shut.

Honestly, just fuck the day you caught him slicing that man's flesh. That scum was hardly worth all the trouble he now has to go through.

"But I'm working on it." Alastor promised as he finally pulled away from you.

You gazed up into his warm, honest eyes. You adored the way he towered over you, really. It's like you fit together so perfectly—like puzzle pieces, was it? Was that how that cheesy line went.

"And then we can be together?" Your palms move to cup his face, and Alastor caught them on instinct before they could.

But you didn't notice, not when he corrected his actions so smoothly by pressing his lips to your knuckles instead—he tried his best to ignore how filthy they are, just to hide his mistake. "Of course, darling. In fact, I think I can work things out by tonight."

Your father was going to be alone at the station.

Your eyes lit up. "Really?"

"Yes, my dear. Soon all of this hiding and sneaking around will be a thing of the past." He said, almost with the same amount of excitement as you.

He couldn't wait to toss your body in a ditch next to your old man's corpse.

"But I musn't be late"

He'll miss his chance to slit your father's throat if he lingered any longer.

"Soon you wouldn't have to be jealous of my wife, dear."

After all, the dead don't envy do they?

Alastor willed himself to humor you one last time, pressing his lips to yours before he bid you a good night.

He couldn't have rushed out that door any faster.

Who would have known trying to keep his cover would have eaten up so much of his time? He barely had any left to do the very act he was even trying to cover for.

Honestly, how troublesome.

But no matter, no matter.

He glanced back at the station. He could vaguely see your lovestruck figure through the window. He watched amusedly as you pathetically held your fingers to your lips, absolutely lost on cloud nine.

It won't be long until he was rid of you, and that fact was enough to lift his sour mood.

#tw: mentions of murder #tw: heavy manipulation #tw: cheating #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin alastor x reader #alastor #alastor x reader #alastor smut #gn!reader #vien writes #I'm sorry i made alastor want to kill you #i just couldn't see him wanting a mistress for any other reason besides this #alastor only fucks to fuck with people in my book if that makes sense #if the smut seems choppy y'all can blame susan

324 notes · View notes

saltwaterburns · 5 months

Text

giggling kicking my feet twirling my hair while being 3 hours into peter pevensie edits

#𖦹 saltwaterburns speaks!#narnia #narnia oneshot #narnia fic #narnia imagines #narnia peter imagines #narnia peter #peter pevensie #peter pevensie imagines #peter pevensie x reader #peter pevensie oneshot #edmund pevensie #susan pevensie #susie is my gf #lucy pevensie #aslan #prince caspian #prince caspian x reader

340 notes · View notes

radioisntdead · 1 month

Note

I have an idea.

Mom susan and daughter are reader

How about the reader tries to introduce her husband to her mother??

Good evening my dear! I wanted to see a Susan and Alastor in-law showdown and I wrote a drabble and then some headcanons, so I hope you don't mind, but if you do just let me know and I can replace Alastor with another requested character or an oc or something,

The mother in-law

Susan & daughter reader, Alastor x female reader

Warnings!!

Cannibalism, violent elderly, implied Violence AGAINST the elderly in the headcanons mostly, Susan invading boundaries, Alastor gets insulted by Susan, Reader needs a drink, poorly drawn Cat Alastor in a suit, OOC characters, not proofread, does anyone know a replacement for Grammerly??

Alastor made the most of falling to eternal damnation, seeing it as a new opportunity,

He become an overlord, a cannibal, the feared Radio demon,

It was shocking enough to him that he had met you, and while it did take awhile and a long long friendship he did end up realizing he had feelings for you, a sweetheart of a cannibal, who worked with his dear friend Rosie and asked to court you in the gentlemenly way, with a bouquet of seven roses and a kiss on your hand, He was the happiest lil' deer in all of hell.

He'd take you dancing, you'd do something like reading or taking a nap as he did his radio broadcast, the two of you would go on walks,

It was bliss

Unfortunately or fortunately depending how you look at it, Alastor disappeared for seven years taking you with him, much to the distain of your mother.

During the time away you were wed, it was a small ceremony, only the two of you and the fucked up cat thing that looked strikingly like Alastor you adopted as your witness.

Anyways with the sudden seven year disappearance and marriage, he never got to formally meet his mother in law that you've told him so much about,

So once everything was settled and you got to visit your dear mama a couple of times, you decided to finally introduce them,

Unfortunately they already knew each other.

Oh no.

Alastor wore his best suit, he even put that evil radio cat into a suit, you wore a lovely dress that matched the aesthetics of cannibal town [Or an exact copy of Alastor's regular suit if you wanna give Susan a heart attack]

He walked arm in arm with you to the cannibal town home your mother lived in, and from the moment the door was opened there was only one thought on his mind.

Oh shit it was Susan, you were the daughter of the Ornery old bitch,

How was someone like YOU related to SUSAN??

Were you adopted? You had to be, he refused to believe that old lady had spawned you in any type of way, maybe she picked you up off the street?

Susan grabbed your hand pulling you in and looking over you, not bothering to greet the radio demon beside you,

"Where have you been I thought you died, Why are you with the guy with the shitty haircut that looks like someone went at him with a fucking hedge trimmer"

"Mama I visited you last week,"

Susan questioned immediately as you laughed nervously, barely two seconds in and she had already insulted Alastor,

you look over to Alastor who stood awkwardly in the door way, waiting to be invited in, the cursed cat in a suit standing by him also waiting to be invited in.

"And apparently you already know my Alasto-"

you were cut off swiftly by Susan squinting at Alastor

"You married the fucking embodiment of red-40?"

Alastor blinked, "Excuse me?"

"You're excused." Susan moved to shut the door in Alastor's face but was stopped by you stopping her

"Ma, please, Alastor come on in"

You said gesturing for your husband and the thing to enter, Susan scoffed mumbling about something as she turned around and sped into the kitchen.

Alastor leaned into you, hooking his arm with yours as the messed up cat clone moved around immediately crawling upon Susan's rocking chair.

"My dear it's not too late to leave and dine elsewhere''

"Alastor please, It's just one dinner with my Ma''

"Who's an ornery old-"

"ALASTOR."

It's a very very awkward dinner, Alastor tried to compliment Susan's meatloaf? He got bullied, you did step in to shut that behavior down but that didn't do much, Alastor tried to help wash the dishes after supper? Susan stood over him watching as he washed every plate and each piece of cutlery, judging him.

Susan did not fear the overlord, and you were concerned.

After dinner was finished and dessert was eaten Susan stared both you and Alastor down as you sat on her couch.

"How long have you been married?"

"Six years."

"Where are my grandchildren then?!"

You hold up the mini Alastor, it's tail wagged slowly as Susan looked upon it with a look of disapproval,

"That's a shitty looking rat, is your husband dysfunctional?"

"Ma, can you not- NO, Alastor put away the tentacles she will RIP THEM OFF-''

AND HEADCANON TIME BECAUSE I am not the best at writing action.

You poor soul.

They can't kill each other because you exist,

It's like stopping two toddlers from fighting except one's well over a century old and your married to the other one,

You're an unpaid babysitter I'm so sorry

Alastor was raised to respect woman and the elderly but he is very close to attacking Susan

He can't do much because he doesn't want to get into trouble with Rosie because attacking one of her cannibals no matter who it is, was a whole can of worms he rather not open, and also she was unfortunately your mother,

He's questioning that, like after this dinner expect him to sit you down and just start throwing questions, like how?

He liked Susan's meatloaf well enough, he could live without it though,

Susan runs into him randomly on the street? She asks if she has a grandchild yet, no? He's getting attacked with the cane and asked if he cannot perform properly Violence on the ace deer

She tries to convince you to leave him and tried introducing you to a random cannibal she pulled off the street, but she stopped after you got upset at her.

Assuming you live at the Hazbin hotel with Alastor Susan visits, she somehow got a key to the room you and Alastor shared so you could be sleeping and Susan pops in swinging her cane, dropping lore

Alastor lives in mild fear, he's changed the locks, he's put Niffty outside the door as security,

Susan always GETS IN.

You have boundaries with her but she breaks them and your working on getting her to stop,

It becomes a hotel wide situation of getting Susan to not break in

She oddly enough likes Angel dust and you use him as a distraction whenever she appears without warning,

You owe Angel several favors.

You are in debt.

Susan eventually grows a fondness for the freak grandchild, she gets clothes, dresses him up and calls him sonny,

Alastor's not the most pleased but it's better then getting asked if he suffers from certain conditions

They sometimes fight over your time, like he's taking you out on a date and Susan pops in and drags whisks you away for tea or something,

They can't do much aside from verbal Insults and glares, but they did get into a physical fight, Alastor got hit with a chair, Susan almost got eaten, Alastor sent Niffty on her and she almost got stabbed

You threatened to tell Rosie and they both stopped, thankfully

Susan keeps divorce papers on hand just in case you ever change your mind, she's not afraid to attack an overlord, this woman is down below for a reason and she is FERAL.

If she catches Alastor chompin' down on your arm he's getting whooped with a cane and the both of you are getting a full lecture on if he's doing anything he's not supposed too, and if he is, he needs to go.

Alastor is very adamant that he would never intentionally harm you apparently the BITING DOESN'T COUNT AS HARM???

Dude has a fear of becoming like his father.

They have issues but they agree on things like this,

There's eventually a group meeting about Susan breaking into the hotel and while she's welcome she needs to stop popping in at late hours of the night or at the crack of dawn,

There's a Susan security system set up now.

Susan's never going to fully approve because you'll always be that small child she found on the side of the streets long ago to her and no man, woman or whatever is going to be good enough for her little girl, but she'll put up with it, she knows that while Alastor isn't the best person it could be worse.

She eventually respects your boundaries, yay!

Good evening folks! Thank you for tuning in! I hope you liked whatever this was, I'm slowly working though requests! Now it's 3 am and I'm tired, goodnight! Have a cursed cat Alastor in a suit that I drew with my fingers

He looks like a tatortot

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #susan & reader #alastor x reader #alastor x you

383 notes · View notes

wrenwreads · 7 months

Text

a glass... or two!

sick of seeing his little brother and their best-friend just simply ogle at each other, peter decides to take matters into his own hands.

request for @edmundpevensielover : EDMUND PEVENSIE X READER

LOTS OF FLUFF AND ED AND READER HIDE THEIR FEELINGS FOR EACH OTHER MAYBE SHE (READER) GETS TRICKED BY PETER (AT THE PEVENSIES' CHRISTMAS PARTY) TO DRINK AND SHE (READER) GETS DRUNK AND MAKES OUT WITH EDMUND AND THEY PRETEND IT DIDN'T HAPPEN AND SUSAN CATCHES THEM MAKING OUT AGAIN.

pairing/s: edmund pevensie x fem!reader

warning/s: mentions of alcohol and reader being drunk a bit tipsy

genre: fluff, friends-to-lovers (or is it?)

word count: 1.4k

a/n: this has been in my requests for god knows how long, i do apologise for only getting to it now. i did change it up a bit from what anon originally requested, hope that's okay!

How do you make two obviously in love individuals realise their feelings for each other when the said two individuals are also too oblivious for their own good?

That was the same question Peter had going on in his head.

It has been too long.

Way too long since his little brother — Edmund, admitted he has feelings for Y/N — someone he has grown close to over the years, who also happens to be Edmund’s best friend since forever. Also including the fact that same Y/N did the exact same thing Edmund did, only a week later.

Some would say that Peter is in a huff. Jaw clenched and eyebrows furrowed as he walks down the halls of the castle towards the library. A bit too niche of a topic for him to be in a huff about — but he's only human after all, and only wants happiness for the two. Gratefully, as a king, he can hide the reason behind his frustration by blaming his duties — claiming they were starting to get too much. People seem to buy it, except for two.

“Peter, are you alright? You’ve been sighing like a mad man since you sat down.”

Lucy’s question only had the young king sighing again, not missing the way Lucy and Susan shared a glance before him.

“It’s those two,” he answers, nodding towards the two figures who had seemed to tuck themselves against each other under one of the castle’s big library shelves.

Both Lucy and Susan follow Peter’s gaze, faux fatigue lacing their shoulders as they watch Y/N and Edmund share fond looks to each other as they immerse into a novel. Y/N was holding the book, conveniently keeping it up between the two of them to read. Edmund had himself stood as support for the young girl who had relaxingly rested upon his chest, his arm behind her — flat against the surface to keep his weight on, allowing both of them to stay upright.

It would be a moment for couples — only if they were one.

“Who do you think will confess first?” Lucy loudly wondered. Although, not too loud to pop the bubble Edmund and Y/N had themselves in. Peter hummed, suddenly alert as if he wasn’t just huffing a few minutes ago. His sisters looked at him, eyes waiting for him to say something.

“What? Isn’t it obvious? I’m sure Y/N will say something first.”

Susan silently scoffs, mouth opening as if someone had just offended her. “Don’t think so lowly of Edmund, would you? I know it’s going to be him.”

“Ed, do you know what colours Peter’s planning for this year?” the young woman asks as she welcomes herself into Edmund’s bedroom. Upon hearing no answer and only the sounds of water running, she assumes he’s still busy giving himself a wash. Thinking he’ll be taking a while, she sits on the four-poster — fussing herself around as she gets comfortable, crossing her legs underneath herself. Relaxing in her seat, she opens the book she had on her hold — continuing where she had left off.

Getting herself lost in the plot, she fails to realise the sound of water stopping nor the fact that Edmund had come out of the washroom and had asked a question himself. It was only when the mattress beneath her dipped did she look up from her page, seeing Edmund looking fresh — wet hair dripping all over his sheets. “You’re not laying down with wet hair, are you?” Y/N asks, eyes narrowing at the sly smile growing on Edmund’s face. “No.” he simply answered, further provoking her as he slowly ascends on to his pillows.

Y/N only sighs, rolling her eyes as she stands up from her position to grab the stray towel the boy had half-mindedly discarded. “Come on,” she says, tapping his thigh lightly, “this way you won’t be waking up tomorrow, complaining about a mind-blowing head ache you have.”

Edmund scoffs at her dramatics, swinging his legs off to the edge of the bed. Y/N settles herself between his thighs, hands under the towel as she carefully dries Edmund’s hair.

He sighs, eyes closing and his hands making its way to her waist. He keeps them there, finding himself getting drowsy at the feeling of Y/N’s fingers through his hair and the soft humming she emits. “I like it when you dry my hair for me,” he whispers, eyes still closed. Y/N laughs softly, giving his hair once last swipe before putting the towel aside. Combing the strands lightly, she finishes her routine with a soft kiss to his head. “I know you do.”

“You’ve really outdone yourself this year, Pete! The party’s amazing!”

Peter laughs, amused at the unnecessary volume Y/N spoke. “I can hear you perfectly you know. No need to shout,” he teases, laughing again at the pout forming on her lips. “Do you know where Edmund went?! I’ve been looking for him all night, I have something to say to him!”

His eyes widen at the girl’s question. Could this finally be it?

As if on cue, Edmund presents himself — although a bit tipsy himself, not as much as Y/N is though. “What’s going on?”

“Ed!” she squeals, wrapping her arms around Edmund’s torso. The boy manages to catch himself from falling, giggling to himself as he too reciprocates the hug. “Oh dear, how many have you had?”

Y/N removed herself from Edmund, hands on her hips as she appears to be deep in thought. Edmund looks at his brother for an answer, only that Peter remains silent. Raising his arms halfway up in the air feigning innocence. She suddenly gasps in her place, quickly spinning around to face Peter. “You gave me two! And then… I think I grabbed another two. And maybe… Idunnoanymore, Ithink…” her words began slurring into each other, earning a chuckle from both brothers. Edmund feels himself slowly sobering up at her antics, wrapping an arm around her waist to steady her. “It’s bed time, don’t you think?”

“No… nonono, notyet—”

Peter remains silent from where he had stood himself, not before moving a little further away from where the pair were standing. He watches as Edmund remains calm, a dopy smile on his face as he dotes on you and your blabbing. He mentally pats himself on the back, triumph enveloping him as he hopes his initial plan of getting you together (finally) happens.

“Come on, my love, just a few more steps…” Edmund encourages, guiding his very drunk girlfriend back to his bedroom in one piece.

One day he’ll get Peter’s head for this.

As soon as the door opens — Y/N escapes Edmund’s grasp, almost catapulting herself onto the bed. She relaxes herself, taking a few deep breaths in before sitting back up. “Do you think… they know?” she hiccups, eyes barely open to look at Edmund.

Edmund feels his heart swell at the sight, his eyes giving nothing but love as he slowly helps Y/N get ready for bed. “I don’t think so,” he begins, wiping a damp wash cloth over her face – a hand gingerly placed under her chin to keep her from swaying. “But I do think Peter wants us to quicken up a bit, be together officially. Maybe that’s why he gave you too many to drink.”

She lets out a small huff, a pout on her lips. “But we already are together, Ed. It’s not our fault they remain oblivious.”

“I know, my love. What about we tell them tomorrow? How does that sound? Surprise them during breakfast, hm?”

Y/N laughs, a sound never failing to sound like music to Edmund’s ears. “That’s… good…” yawns break her words apart. Edmund slowly guides her to lay down, ensuring his actions are not too sudden for her to suddenly feel nauseous. “Let’s go to bed then, now, shall we?”

Not even finished with his sentence and Y/N’s were already closed, hands tugging onto the blankets to snuggle herself in further. Edmund smiles, standing up from where he perched onto the edge of the bed to now get himself ready. Right as he enters the washroom, a question is suddenly asked.

“Ed, are you even drunk?”

He just laughs, not having the heart yet to tell you that he had caught on to Peter’s game very early on to the night. Not that he can for your soft snores had followed your question aright after.

thank you so much for reading until the end! as always, leave your thoughts/comments - i love reading them. constructive criticism is appreciated! •.˚⚘ ⋆.*.ゞ

#edmund pevensie #lucy pevensie #peter pevensie #susan pevensie #the chronicles of narnia x reader #edmund pevensie x reader #edmund pevensie x y/n #edmund pevensie one shot #edmund pevensie imagine #edmund pevensie fanfiction #king edmund the just #edmund pevensie ff #wrenwritesed #wrenwrites

387 notes · View notes

supercap2319 · 8 months

Text

"I can't believe you, Johnny! You gave Y/N a handjob on top of the Baxter building. What were you thinking?" Sue asked her brother, pushing her glasses up towards her face.

Johnny looks up at her and smirks. "I was thinking... 'Damn. The kid shoots far. Wonder what would happen if I stuck my fingers inside his tight virgin hole alongside jerking him?'"

Sue huffed. "You're disgusting, Johnny."

"I know. And I know that Y/N is right outside listening to us. What do you say, Y/N? Another handjob with me fingering you from behind?"

Y/N came into the room with his face all red.

#x male reader #male reader insert #male x male #fantastic four #the human torch #human torch #human torch x male reader #Johnny storm x male reader #johnny storm #chris evans #chris evans x male reader #susan storm #invisible woman #jessica alba

421 notes · View notes

unholyhelbig · 3 months

Note

Would love some Kate Bishop angst

Title: Past Tense

Ship: Female!Reader x Kate Bishop

Wordcount: 4027

Summary: Kate Bishop returns to her hometown unexpectedly following some bad news. She's shocked when she runs into you and struggles to grapple with her past choices.

Warnings: Funerals, hurt/comfort, drinking, work injury/ burns, spelling mistakes and grammar issues (I'm sure)

[A/n: Hello! Just a little disclaimer, this is probably going to be the last thing I can publish for the rest of the month. I've got a massive work project, I move this coming weekend, and it's my birthday at the end of the month so my time is quite limited. But things will pick up again next month]

Main Masterlist | Read my stuff on AO3 | Leave Requests

Day had barely broken over the horizon, but the world around you was impossible to ignore. There had been snow the night before, something that everyone believed was too cold to be possible. A thin layer of ice had encrusted each car before the soft, powdery type had built up on windshields and culminated under tires.

Large, wet flakes swirled around you and despite the gloves that clung to your skin, they didn’t do much for the numbness in your fingers as you fumbled with the keys to the coffee shop. Moisture had wicked through the fabric, and you hastily took them off before flicking on the house lights.

It was just past 5am and the usual crowd of early risers were soon to arrive. You made quick work of starting all the machines, the cooling cases and the manual grinder. Your baker had been in earlier, filling the displays with various muffins, baked goods, and sweets. A smooth cinnamon scent filled the air and warmed you all over.

“Son of a bitch!” the muffled exclamation formed a smile against your lips.

MJ was bundled up in a sweatshirt, a flannel, and a heavy winter coat over that. Her boots were caked in dry snow. There was a deep red blush against her nose and her cheeks that accompanied her scowl.

“Language, there are children present.”

“We’re the same age!” Peter protested as he pulled himself through the back door. He was dressed in less layers but sported the same winter complexion. He shook the large flakes of snow from his sweater, mumbling “Son of a bitch.”

It was cold enough to warrant you closing the shop. Most of the schools and the businesses in town had called for a snow day, something that didn’t happen often in Connecticut. Frigid temperatures were expected. Below freezing was a way of life and the world didn’t stop craving warm coffee to thaw them out.

This fact was proven when you flipped the open sign and the typical crowd of tired eyes started to line up at the counter. Peter typically had too much energy, so MJ took up the register while her counterpart flitted around and filled the orders. Most were to-go.

You’d known these people for years. They’d come in with a habit that was unmatched by the weather and the any other obstacles thrown at them. Before you opened up ‘The Grindhouse’ you’d gone to high school with them.

Through all the proms, and the homecomings, and the house parties that left you vomiting in the yard amongst their parents’ flowerbeds. Since then, you’d grown up and couldn’t stomach more than a few shots or two glasses of wine, tops.

They’d grown up too, those who had stuck around town. They had families and businesses much like yours. You had homeroom with the accountant that had helped you hedge your money in the correct places, and you made the same bacon, egg, and cheese English muffin for the star football player that blew out his knee senior year.

“Welcome to Grindhouse,” you said distractedly at the sound of the bell above the door, working on clearing the fallen grounds from under the espresso machine. The rag was damp and the floor was already coated in little brown specs that needed to be swept up during a lull.

“What can I get started for you?” MJ asked in her usual cadence.

“Just a plain black coffee, please.”

Your body froze at the sound of the voice, hair falling into the gaze that you refused to lift. There was a strange mix of emotions in the pit of your stomach. That voice, with it’s familiar rasp was one you hadn’t heard for years. Nearly a decade. But it couldn’t be her, could it?

She’d left for New York right after high school. The last you heard, she’d become a doctor. An unrivaled cardiothoracic surgeon that flitted around the world wherever she was needed. There was no reason for her to be back in this small, freezing, end-of-the-earth town.

“That’ll be 2.25, we have cream and sugar on the far wall, but if you need anything don’t hesitate to ask.”

“Thank you.”

It was her. It was most definitely her. There was a crispness to her voice that you’d recognize anywhere. The last you remembered; it was whispered with a quickness that rivaled her hands. Her hands were everywhere. They were warm and calloused and gentle.

There was a sudden bubbling heat against the side of your hand. You hissed through your teeth and pulled back from the espresso machine. There was a large bubbling welt on your skin and a string of curses ready at your lips.

“Jesus, y/n are you alright?” Peter was at your side in a moment with a wet, clean cloth that he had run under cold water. “Do you need the burn kit?”

“No, no. I’ll be alright. Thanks Pete”

He was so attentive and clocked you with a worried stare but you reassured him with the squeeze of his shoulder with your good hand. If you were going to fly under the radar before, it would be impossible now.

You glanced over the counter, pressing the cloth even closer. Your suspicions had been confirmed by the tepid gray stare that met yours. Shock simmered behind Kate Bishops gaze, a steaming cup of coffee in her hand.

Suddenly, you felt dizzy. She looked a bit older in the face, more experienced. There was life there, a form of living that had lowered her shoulders and sealed her lips. The Kate you knew was a bumbling mess- but med school had effectively changed that.

“y/n,” She regarded you.

“Hi, Katie.”

That lopsided, sloppy grin was still the same. It reached her eyes and brightened them. You cradled your hand and reveled in the silence. Peter and MJ had frozen in place, flicking their eyes from you and then back to her.

“Want me to take a look at that hand?”

“What are you doing back in town?”

The two of you spoke at the same time and dissolved into nervous laughter. You shook your head. “I thought you were a surgeon?”

“I know how to treat a burn, y/n, don’t insult me.”

You often prided yourself on your strong will. If you had a weak one, it would have been impossible to build this coffee shop up from the rubble that it once was. Kate Bishop, Doctor Kate Bishop, had a way of melting your resolve.

Peter shoved the small plastic first aide kit into your hands and shoved you forward. There was no choice to hide your stumble other than a confident stride towards her. She led you to one of the tables that spanned the windows at the storefront. They were lined with frost, a biting cold fighting to get its way in.

Kate had about a half-inch on you and radiated a type of warmth that was unmatched. When she grabbed your sleeve and dragged you to a sitting position right across from her, you were practically putty in her hands.

“I’ve been keeping tabs on you.” She spoke without looking at you, unlatching the kit and pulling on the blue latex gloves with practiced ease. She couldn’t see the look of shock on your face. “This place is beautiful. I remember when it was that pizza place.”

“Ah, pizzapocalypse. Who would have thought that a combination shooting range and Italian restaurant would fail?”

Kate chuckled and tenderly pulled your hand closer. Her touch was barely a whisper against your skin, strands of black hair falling into her eyes. She examined the angry red mark. It had already started to blister. The espresso machine was kept at unbelievable levels of heat.

She grabbed one of the wrapped applicators, using her teeth to tear away at the wax paper. Kate squeezed a small dollop of burn cream onto the end. You hated the cloudy clearness of the substance.

“I’ve been keeping tabs on you too, you know?”

“Have you? This might sting a little bit. Do you want a countdown?”

“No, just do it I’m a brave- Fuck!” She’d already started, and you gave her a vicious glare. She shrugged with that infuriatingly perfect grin of hers. “I thought you were in New Zealand for some medical internship.”

“New Hampshire, actually. Not as exciting, I know. It was going well, but Eleanor died.”

There was a tightness to her voice. Typically, you looked away from anything involving wound care. If you were to get a shot, you’d stare at a small spot on the wall that interested you. Drawing blood was more of the same, it was just harder to ignore the needle in your arm.

Kate was working hard at the bandage in her hand and finally pulled it apart. Despite the frustration etched into her features, she applied it with a certain level of care. You didn’t’ say anything. Your hand was throbbing uncomfortably.

“She was old, we knew it was coming and pancreatic cancer, well, it’s a bitch by the end and Susan asked me to fly in for the funeral. How could I say no to that? Flying in for my mothers funeral when I was too busy working to witness her descent?”

“Katie,” You breathed out.

“That should be healed up in a few days. Make sure you change out the bandage.”

You couldn’t’ get a word in edgewise before she started to shove the contents of the case back into their proper places. The chair made a horrible scraping sound that you felt in your teeth. Kate grasped her coffee, colder than it was a few moments ago.

“Thank you for… this. I’m sure it’s delicious.” She had her hand on the door. Her quickness was unmatched. Both in and out of the OR, from what you had read. But she paused, looking at you for a moment. “I’m proud of you, y/n. This place is great. Really.”

Kate had vanished into the whiteness of the blistering day. You watched her navigate the snow with ease. Eleanor had died. How could you live in such a small town and not have heard about the woman’s passing?

The Bishop family was always a private bunch, and with Kate moving right after high school graduation, you hadn’t any reason to go past those wrought iron gates. Kate’s older sister would stop by for a hot drink once every other month or so, but you saw her coming from a mile away and selfishly hid in the back.

Eleanor had died.

There was a softness to her that you remembered fondly, a memory of Kate and you as children in the heat of summer. You’d been stung by a wasp and cried and cried until Eleanor rushed into the yard and scooped you into her arms.

Much like Kate had just done with her soft ministrations, she fixed you right up by applying a mix of warm water and baking soda. An old family remedy, she said. The venom had stopped screaming and the tears eventually stopped for both you and Kate.

Eleanor was a kind, if not private, woman. One that you thought of daily when you clocked the photo of High School Graduation on the dusty bookshelves in your living room. Your own mother hadn’t attended, but Eleanor was right there. She was right there.

“Who’s the girl?” MJ drawled out, leaning heavily on her hands, a goofy look on her face. Peter was next to her, doing the same, both eyebrows raised.

“Kate… She” You picked up the plastic first aide kit. The two of you had a habit of not sitting still and it was better to move to replace the supplies then let them sit out here. Besides, a customer could walk in at any moment. “We were engaged.”

Peter shot up “What?”

“It was a long time ago, it’s not important.”

“You were engaged, I think that’s important. How old are you?”

“First, rude, second; old enough. And really, guys it’s not a big deal. Both of us moved on. Life happened.”

They exchanged a look that, in the past, had never meant anything good. MJ had her arms crossed over her chest and Peter leaned heavily on a broom he had grabbed, hugging it lose to his chest. You rolled your eyes, attempting to ignore them both was impossible in a place this retrospectively small.

“I don’t know, boss. The way she was looking at you… maybe neither of you really moved on.”

“I write your paychecks; you understand that right?” You turned to face them. “Kate and I are done. We have been for a long time. She made that very clear when she gave the ring back and I refuse to push the matter.”

It was collecting dust on your bookshelf next to the photo of your graduation. It was a small emerald, green box that you hadn’t opened since you resituated the diamond ring. It had been stupid to propose, a last-ditch effort to get Kate to stay. She’d said yes. And then she said no.

The baker’s old Subaru wouldn’t start because of the bitter cold. It sounded like an old wife’s tale that made you chuckle to yourself while reading the text that popped across your screen.

Before you had hired him for the long nights, you’d done the baking yourself and it wasn’t a horrible chore. You’d just have to down some caffeine and slam it out; trays filled with mini cakes, with quiches, donuts and cheese tarts. It was like a methodical science project with the bonus of eating the food that didn’t look edible.

It was midnight by the time you’d pulled the first couple trays from the large industrial oven and exhaustion was starting to bay its head. You weighed the option of going home and just spreading out the pastries in the case.

All thoughts of sleep left your mind when a rapid banging filled the store. The front glass doors were being tugged upon. And while you were more than willing to die in this coffee shop, being robbed was not the way you wanted to go. There was less than three hundred dollars in the register.

You grasped at the broom, your hands covered in flower and caked on the bandage that was applied earlier. Another round of bangs as you tried to stay low and reach for the cordless phone. There was a silhouette outlined by the gray white of the snow.

Doctor Kate Bishop.

She’d given up on her breaking and entering and pressed her forehead against the glass, her breath fogging it up. It was hard to tell, but you were sure her eyes were clenched shut. There was a brown paper bag in one hand that looked suspiciously like a large bottle of alcohol.

Your grip was tight on the broom, even as you felt confident, and a little sad, about opening the door. Kate fell forward and a blast of cold enveloped you. She made a small noise at the back of her throat, regaining her posture.

“Were you going to sweep me to death?” Kate asked, “I brought whiskey.”

“Here I thought you weren’t going to come back here with the way you ran out earlier, and now you arrive with gifts?”

It was a low blow, but she had shrugged her shoulders with her goofy grin and snow in her messy hair. “Come drink with me, just for a little bit in our old spot. Don’t make me play the dead mom card.”

Saying no to Kate had always been hard for you. It had been hard when you were children and she dared you to jump from high places, always stopping you by the collar of your shirt before either of you got hurt. And it was especially hard to say no to Kate in your teens when she would kiss hot trails against your throat, marking them with bruises. Not that you were rushing to deny her.

“Really?” You asked, “Aren’t we a little old to be caught sneaking booze in the gym?”

Both of you knew for a fact that the side doors leading into the school would always be open. There were no alarms, or flood lights, because it was a small town and nothing bad ever happens in a small town.

She jutted out her bottom lip into a pout “Y/n, my mom died.”

“Okay, alright. Let me lock up.”

Kate stayed quiet on the three-block walk to the school. It was shrouded in darkness, an inky black despite the swirling gray of the night sky. Your high school had been the largest in the county; two floors filled with classrooms. You’d stuck to the same ones and Kate was the life of the party wherever she went, the bright spot in an otherwise dingy room.

The bottle of alcohol dangled by her side as your footfalls crunched over ice and an ugly brown slush of snow. It felt normal, almost, walking with her. Being with her. Staying in town was a brave choice after being dumped and equivocally left at the alter. You had powered through the looks and the whispered accusations. But some part of you was relieved she’d chosen this interaction to take place in the middle of the night.

When you’d gotten to the double doors of the large gymnasium, Kate’s boot slipped on a particularly nasty spot of ice. Instinctively you grasped her arm and righted her. She thanked you silently before pushing into the warmth of the space. The motion censor lights flicked on and you squinted against them.

“They built a new one, you know? A gym. I think they still use this for craft fairs. Fundraisers. But all the big stuff is off site in this state-of-the-art center.”

Kate blew out a breath, shaking her head. “Remember when Tommy Shepard broke your nose with a basketball?”

“Yeah, I do. I also remember sneezing right after and spraying him in blood. Everyone else was grossed out except for you.”

Kate dropped onto the large eagle in the center of the floor. Her legs were stretched out in front of her, and the bottle was idling between them. You let out a small groan as you joined her. Neither of you had ever been bold enough to inebriate yourselves in the crest. Instead, you’d hide behind the fold-out bleachers that were pushed against the walls, but this would do.

“That stupid EMT wouldn’t let me get on the ambulance with you.” The seal on the bottle cracked viciously, much like your nose, as she unscrewed the cap.

“And I told you I didn’t need to go the hospital. I think I was a liability, though.”

Kate laughed, taking a deep gulp from the bottle. It hit the back of her throat and she hissed in response before thrusting the whiskey your way. You took a smaller sip, let it coat your tongue and burn your stomach.

The mood had stilled, and she took another swallow before setting the bottle between the both of you like a vice or a buffer. You couldn’t decide what.

“Eleanor had very specific instructions in her will. She… shit, she planned her whole funeral out before she died in her morbid meticulousness. She picked white lilies, and a beautiful black casket. She already had a plot of land picked out in her family plot. Music picked out. A fucking guest list.”

You fought the urge to reach out and comfort her. So, you grabbed the bottle instead and gulped down a bigger heaping than before. The amber liquid was dipping down behind the black wrapper.

“The only thing she didn’t do was write her eulogy. No, she left that up to me as one last fuck you because that’s how she operates. She didn’t’ ask Susan to write it, or my dad. She asked me because I’m the one that left home. I’m the one that left her.”

The worst thing you could do was agree with Kate Bishops dead mother. And you didn’t, really. You’d always been happy for Kate. This town was too small for her and the lives that she saved were plentiful. But some selfish part of you understood where Eleanor was coming from.

You were possibly the worst person she could go to with this issue and by the frown on her face, she knew it too. For the longest time, you were there for each other. And if Kate had called out of the blue and asked you to go to New Zealand or New Hampshire, or whatever; you would go.

She’d do the same, you were sure. One call, one letter and she’d be here. But neither of you were brave enough to reach out and heal the wound that festered between you. You pulled your knees up to your chest, rested your chin against them with a quiet breath.

“Maybe you don’t need to write anything. Maybe you can just… say how you feel.”

“Yes, because that has worked out so well for me in the past.”

“Fair point, but she was your mother, not a fling. Even if you don’t have a script planned out, it’s worth just feeling the moment. No matter how shitty that moment is.”

Kate inhaled and held that breath in her chest for a few seconds before pushing it out. Her eyes searched you in a probing way that made your skin prickle. Blush started to claw its way up your throat. You’d blame that on the alcohol, you always were a light weight and it showed in your complexion.

“Is that what you think you were?” her voice was a low and raspy whisper “a fling?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“You never say anything you don’t mean. All you’ve ever done is calculated and well thought out. You’ve always had a plan.” She looked down at the frayed edges of her jeans, playing with the strings to avoid looking at you. “You were my everything.”

Your voice was a quiet murmur. “Katie,”

She reached out, her warm hand wrapped around your wrist in a tender display of affection. Her eyes met yours and it was the longest the two of you had stared at one another without breaking eye contact. Your stomach was a pit of nerves and heat.

“That scared me when we were young. It fucking scared me out of my mind how content I was with you. I was ready to risk everything, to settle down in a small house and wake up every single morning next to you.” She drew in a sharp and shuddering breath “But we were young, and I hadn’t lived life and that scared me even more.”

“I know, Kate, I know. I shouldn’t have proposed, and I certainly shouldn’t have put either of us in that position. You were right to turn me down. You were right to move on and fight for the future that you deserve.”

Kate sniffed, using her free hand to wipe away the few crystalline tears that dripped across her cheeks. You found yourself pulling her close, letting her sob into the crook of your neck as you held her, your arm wrapped around her center to stabilize her.

Things were boiling over and the tension that had been weighing on her shoulders since she’d first shown up in town started to slowly drain. She missed her mother, she missed you, and that wasn’t something you were willing to process on the crest of the school’s gymnasium.

Kate’s fingers were curled into the fabric of your shirt, and eventually, she settled. Her nose was cold against your pulse point and the bottle of whiskey had been long forgotten. As self-centered as it was, you wished you could hold her forever. Feel her touch on yours for something other than a reminisced sadness.

“If you asked again,” Kate mumbled into the collar of your shirt “If you asked me again, I would say yes.”

“I know, Katie. I know.”

#Kate Bishop #Kate Bishop x reader #Kate Bishop x y/n #Kate Bishop x you #Kate bishop x reader #Hawkeye #Hawkeye fanfiction #Marvel #Marvel Fanfiction #hurt/comfort #Ask #I promise Kate Bishop actually has a sister #Susan Bishop

180 notes · View notes

magicalbunbun · 4 months

Text

Stanley showing his new home to others since he haves a rich (and powerful dream demon) parent.

#for you #gravity grow au #gravity falls x reader #gravity falls #dream demon! reader #dream demon #stan pines #stanley pines #ford pines #stanford pines #lazy susan #gravity falls clara #fiddleford mcgucket #fiddleford

155 notes · View notes

riordanness · 4 months

Text

cardigan — [e.pevensie]

wordcount: 1.5K

warnings: not technically x reader as ‘reader’ is named Belle

requested: no

“She won’t stop staring.”

“Then stop looking.”

Belle has to stop herself from rolling her eyes at the ridiculous Telmarine soldiers. They’re both clearly terrified of their mission, and are both riddled with anxiety about the entire thing. Which is hilarious.

“You could just let me go,” she says nonchalantly. “Save yourself the risk of aggravating the woods’ spirits.”

The Telmarine facing her gives her a glare. His grip on the sword across his lap tightens.

Belle decides to shut up.

“Here will do,” the other soldier says, the oars in his hands slowing. “Let's just dump her and get it over with.”

The soldiers get to their feet unsteadily. The boat rocks, and Belle wonders what would happen if she tried to tip all three of them into the water. But before she can come up with a good way to execute that plan, the Telmarine snatches her up, grabbing her roughly by the arm.

“Drop them!” An unfamiliar female voice rings out, and stories of ghosts in the woods run through Belle’s mind. She half turns, and just has time to see four figures on the shore before she’s dropped, literally, into the cold water.

Bubbles surround Belle, and she’s disoriented instantly. Her bound wrists make it impossible to swim, so she sinks, struggling furiously to get loose. Her dress is heavy and sticking to her legs. Her chest is tightening, and black is crawling at the edges of her vision.

Then, something pulls at her, arms slide around her waist, and she is yanked out of the water. Belle gasps, practically drinking the air.

She’s pulled to shore, and laid down on the sand. Something cuts the ropes from her hands. She coughs for a second, getting her bearings back. Drowning was a very awful experience. Belle did not recommend it at all.

“Are you alright?” A girl’s voice asks her, a different one from before, younger.

Belle reacts, twisting as she rises, her dagger, which was previously concealed in her skirts, at the young girl’s throat within seconds.

Shouting erupts from behind them, and Belle glanced to see three others, two boys and an older girl, all with weapons at the ready. The girl has an arrow aimed at Belle’s heart, and both boys have their swords raised.

“Drop it,” the older boy tells her, and his voice is hard and commanding, like he’s used to giving orders.

The girl at Belle’s side doesn’t look particularly scared. “It’s okay,” she promises. “We’re friends.”

Belle narrows her eyes. “How would I know that?”

“Well,” the older girl says, “we did just save your life.”

“Actually, that was me.” It’s the younger boy this time. Belle focuses on him. He has dark hair that’s slightly curly and wet. He looks about her age, and his clothes are wet too. “Don’t worry,” he says to Belle. “We are friends. We won’t hurt you. Just please let Lucy go?”

Belle takes a step back from Lucy, still watching them all carefully. “Fine. Thanks for saving me. Bye.” She turns, but doesn’t even make it three steps before the older boy calls after her.

“Wait!”

She sighs, and looks at them.

“We don’t even know your name.” The older girl has her bow away now, but her eyes look plenty vicious enough for Belle. She doesn’t trust them; any of them.

“I’m Belle,” she says flatly. “Now can I go?”

“Why were they trying to drown you?” Lucy looks up at Belle, and her childlike innocence warms Belle’s heart. She has pretty eyes, too, Belle thinks, full of bravery and fearlessness and determination.

“Because I ran away from the castle where I was, well, a servant of sorts. Because I’m on the side of the true king. And because Miraz is a tyrant,” Belle says.

“Whoa Miraz?” the older boy asks.

Belle raises an eyebrow. “Where have you been living lately? Under a rock? He’s the sort of King? Of Narnia?”

“Narnia?” Lucy gasps. “So it is Narnia!”

Belle frowns. “Uh. Yes. This is Narnia. I’m confused.”

The four all exchange looks. “We’ll tell you,” the older girl tells Belle. “But you have to tell us your story first.”

Belle shrugs. “Whatever.”

Soon enough, the five of them are seated around a campfire. The sun is going down, and Belle’s still-wet dress is chilling her to the core. She doesn’t say anything about it, though.

“So,” she starts, accepting a toasted apple from Lucy. “I’m a handmaid in Miraz’s palace. He’s the brother of the king, but he’s basically put himself in the role of king ever since King Caspian the Ninth died. His son, Caspian the Tenth, should be king, but Miraz doesn’t want that. He wants the throne to himself, you see. Anyways, I’m on the side of Caspian and the old Narnians, so I helped him escape a few nights ago. Miraz’s wife had a baby boy, so he wants to kill Caspian and make himself the king, now that he has an heir.”

Belle takes a bite of the apple, and it’s surprisingly good. “I was going to be executed because they somehow found out I helped Caspian.”

“Yikes,” the younger boy says, throwing his apple core into the flames. “Cool story.”

The older girl is watching Belle. “So what’s your plan now?” she asks.

Belle shrugs. “Go into the woods. Find Caspian and help him to get his throne back, I guess. We were always really close at the palace, since I grew up there and we’re not too far apart in age.”

The emotions in her voice must have been more obvious than she thought, because Lucy shuffles over to sit beside her, their shoulders touching. Belle gives the girl a soft smile, before she glanced up at the other three.

“So?” she says. “What’s your story?”

The older two exchange a glance. “We’re the kings and queens of old,” the older boy says. “I’m High King Peter, the Magnificent.”

Belle isn’t even that shocked. She’s kind of guessed it by now, even though it was impossible. “You know you guys should be about 1200 years old now, right?”

The younger boy chuckles. “I’m Edmund.”

Belle nods her head at him. “I figured. And you must be Queen Susan?” She glances at the older girl. Susan smiles gently.

“Just Susan is fine.”

Belle salutes. “Whatever you say, Just Susan.”

Edmund laughs again, but tries to hide it with a cough.

Belle stands, shaking her heavy skirts as best she can. It’s an awful material, still holding most of the water from earlier in its skirts. She lets out an angry sigh.

“What’s wrong?” Lucy asks.

“Oh, it’s my dress,” Belle sighs, sitting back down. “They didn’t let me change for the execution and I was doing heavy cleaning this morning. It’s a really terrible dress to wear while it’s wet.”

Lucy looks at Edmund. “Do we still have our school things?” she asked excitedly.

Edmund nods, slowly at first but then he seems to get the idea. “I’ll get them.” He hurries over to the rowboat, which now has a small pile of their things next to it. He brings back over a white shirt and black pants, as well as a strange black skirt.

“Here,” he hands them to Belle. “Sorry—they’re mostly boy’s things but you look about my size and Susan ruined her shirt earlier. But there’s my shirt and pants and Su’s skirt if you'd rather that.”

Belle offers him a smile. “Thank you, King Edmund.”

“No need to call me King,” he says back, as he lays himself back onto the sand. His black hair is messy and reflects the fire’s flickering light.

“I’m just going to go get changed in the tree line,” Belle tells the group. “If I ain’t back in five, panic.”

The others grin as she heads off, the clothes bundled in her arms. Behind a tree, she pulls her dress off over her head, depositing it in a bush. She then peels off her petticoats and corset, leaving only her thin under-bodice and under-shorts on. Belle then tried on Edmund’s shirt, which fits surprisingly well. It’s an odd kind of shirt though, a lot stiffer than ones she’s used to mending. She buttons it up, rolling the sleeves up to her elbows and leaving the top two buttons undone. Now that she isn’t wet, it’s a pretty warm night.

Belle decides to wear the skirt, as she is shorter than Edmund and doesn’t want to wear his pants if they’ll be too long. They’d just be a tripping hazard. She instead pulls on Susan’s skirt, buttoning it up on the side. It’s also very strange, but comfortable, and very freeing and easy to move in. It stops just above her knee. Belle runs her hands through her hair, which has long since come undone and is tangled and knotted due to the water.

Feeling somewhat presentable, Belle scoops up the clothes from the ground and heads back to the fire.

Edmund’s eyes are on her at once, and she isn’t sure if the heat in her cheeks is from him or the fire.

“Oh—“ Edmund stutters a little. “That… you look good in those.”

Belle smiles, a little triumphant. “They’re quite comfortable. Thank you, Edmund.”

“Anytime,” he replies softly. “Anytime.”

#edmund pevensie #narnia #the chronicles of narnia #edmund pevensie fanfic #edmund pevensie x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #narnia fanfic #susan pevensie #peter pevensie #lucy pevensie

141 notes · View notes

criesinliess · 3 months

Text

━JANUARY 2024; susan's recs

HARRY POTTER

━━DRACO MALFOY

buy me presents @writingsbychlo

━━MATTHEO RIDDLE

for you @mrsbarnesblog

THE MARAUDERS ERA

━━JAMES POTTER

cold as you @pretty-little-mind33

THE MAZE RUNNER

━━THOMAS

daffodils @writingsbychlo

that much was obvious @justauthoring

MARVEL

━━PIETRO MAXIMOFF

sokovian cuddles @mar-gega

the silent treatment @floral-and-fine

━━LOKI LAUFEYSON

terrible liar @fandxmslxt69

ANNE WITH AN E

━━GILBERT BLYTHE

love, lunch and letters @reidandweep

keep your hand inside of mine @harringtown

everything i hold dear resides in those eyes @↑

THE SOCIETY

━━HARRY BINGHAM

my poor little baby @the-girl-who-used-to-write

initiative @collecting-stories

FATE: THE WINX SAGA

━━RIVEN

the only edge @imkylotrash

MIXTE 1963

━━JOSEPH DESCAMPS

a real gentleman @meltinghun

PERCY JACKSON AND THE OLYMPIANS

━━LUKE CASTELLAN

bleedin' me dry @atlabeth

sly swordsman @krkiiz

take a chance with me @↑

something out of my dreams @celesterayel

call it what you want @sayoneee

lavender roses @breadbrobin

about you @surftrips

fighting chance @supercutszns

a place with you @↑

true colours @↑

the grudge (or: the 7 things luke castellan hated about you) @kamaluhkhan

i won't say (im in love) @calliopeslyrics

bedtime stories @mischiefmoons

titles @indecisivemuch

THE BEAR

━━CARMY BERZATTO

blueberry bbq; strawberry gazpacho @collecting-stories

i love you @sunflowersteves

ONE PIECE

━━SANJI

tell it to me straight (because i’m going crazy) @justmediocrewriting

little by little @zorobff

STRANGER THINGS

━━STEVE HARRINGTON

marriage pact @fantasylandloser

season one of “come home” — masterlist @stevie-petey

drunken confession @caxde

itty bitty pretty @t-lostinworlds

OUTER BANKS

━━JJ MAYBANK

worth it @pariahsparadise

━━RAFE CAMERON

rafe, scary? pfft! @suncoved

LOCKWOOD & CO

━━ANTHONY LOCKWOOD

till death do us part @websterss

certain @↑

never angry @↑

#susan’s recs #fics recs #draco malfoy x reader #mattheo riddle x reader #james potter x reader #thomas x reader #pietro maximoff x reader #loki laufesyon x reader #gilbert blythe x reader #harry bingham x reader #riven x reader #joseph descamps x reader #luke castellan x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #opla sanji x reader #steve harrington x reader #jj mayback x reader #rafe cameron x reader #anthony lockwood x reader

494 notes · View notes

hihomeghere · 3 months

Text

Burning Love | John Marston/Reader

Word Count : 3k Summary : Set in the epilogue of RDR2. You stumble upon John in Blackwater after being alone for years. When he invites you to visit Beecher's Hope, will you be able to fight feelings that have been building ever since you were kids? (No Abigail and Jack, love them but you aren't in this episode) Warnings : Smut, cursing, unprotected piv, hickeys, oral reader receiving, just dirty idiots in love, reader has bio female parts

“John?” The word fell out of your mouth before you could stop yourself. Here you were in Blackwater, a good six or seven years since that no good river boat business, and there in front of you was John Marston.

At least, he looked like him. His head snapped towards you, his dark eyes meeting yours. You swore your heart stopped, you raised your hand to cover it before sliding off of your horse.

“Y/n?” He sounded breathless, a small smile growing on his face as you started running towards him. You threw yourself into his arms, he laughed, spinning you around. “Holy shit it is you.” He said as your feet touched the ground. You looked up at his scarred face, cupping his cheek with your hand.

“John Marston.” You chuckled, unable to stop the grin spreading on your face. Tears welled up in your eyes which you quickly wiped away. God it had been years, ever since… well it had been years.

“It’s good to see you.” You chuckled lightly, punching his shoulder.

“It sure is good to see you, too. What the hell are you doing in Blackwater?”

“Well I don’t rightly know.” You shrugged, shaking your head. “I go wherever the wind takes me and it took me to Blackwater.” You said looking around the dusty street. He grinned, shaking his head slightly. His hair was shorter than before, light stubble covering his face.

“Well if you don’t have anywhere else to go, would you like to come see Beecher's Hope?” He said with a nervous smile on his face.

“What’s Beecher's Hope?” You asked, crossing your arms.

“It's my place, somehow.” He laughed looking down at his boots.

“John Marston, homeowner?” You laughed, “Course I do!” He looked up at you, your stomach filling with butterflies as that boyish grin crossed his features.

“Well come on then!” He said, walking over to his horse. You followed him out of town, riding close behind him. It didn’t take you very long to make it to Beecher’s Hope. Well he was certainly hopeful to call it his home. It was barely a shack on a good piece of land, that was the best way you could describe it.

“Now I know it don’t look like much now.” He said, hitching up his horse.

“You’d be right.” You teased doing the same.

“Now who’s there?” A voice called from inside the shack. Was that?

“It’s just me, Uncle.” John called, rolling his eyes. Uncle?

“Uncle! You get your lazy ass out of that shack right now!” You called jogging over to the ‘front door’

“Y/n? Well I’ll be!” Uncle said getting up from inside. You pulled him into a hug, glad to see the old man still kicking.

“Now this is how I should be treated, John, with respect.” Uncle said as he patted your back.

“She just called you a lazy ass!” John groaned.

“What are you doing hanging around this ruffian?” You teased, pulling away from Uncle’s embrace.

“Begged for my help, how could I say no?” Uncle explained, placing a hand over his heart.

“Bullshit! I never asked you for nothing old man.” John scoffed, shaking his head.

“Alright alright, I’m starving from my ride. You got anything I could cook up for us, John?” You asked, setting your hands on your hips.

“Barely, we could probably hunt down a rabbit or two for dinner.” He sighed.

“Lead the way, cowboy.” You said walking back over to your horse.

A rabbit or two turned into four between the two of you. Everything turned into a competition, it had been like that since you were kids. Let’s say Uncle wasn’t upset by your catch. You cooked up a nice stew for the boys before settling down for the night by the campfire. It all seemed too good to be true, being back with Uncle and John. You couldn’t lie that your heart skipped a beat every time you caught his eye. The alcohol definitely wasn’t helping with that.

“It seems like yesterday we were sitting around a campfire just like this, listening to Javier play the guitar. Or having Hosea give us reading lessons.” You sighed bringing your bottle to your lips.

“Yeah, you were such a tattle tale.” John teased, the glow of the fire illuminating his face, casting dark shadows along his scars.

“Was not!” You scoffed, knocking back your drink. He laughed, loud and hearty. Your heart beat wildly in your chest, a blush settling on your cheeks.

“Yes you were! Would always get me in trouble when I’d sneak off to the horses.” He shook his head a smile tugging on his lips

“That’s because Boadicea was gonna kick your head in one day, I was only looking out for you.” You snorted, nodding to yourself.

“She loved me.”

“You kidding?” You barked out a laugh, “She used to nip at you so hard you’d have teeth marks for weeks!”

“Well not everyone can be princess Van Der Linde.” He said, rolling his eyes.

“You were Dutch’s favorite long before I came around Martson.” You quipped, the alcohol easing the pain of past gang members. You both sat in silence, the crackle from the fire and far off yips from the coyotes the only sound, along with Uncle’s snoring.

“Shit,” John sighed, “we got into a heap of trouble back then.” He grinned, bringing his bottle to his lips.

“Still do.” You added, leaning over to bump his elbow with your own.

“Still do.” He repeated, a small smile on his face. He looked at you from under the brim of his hat. You felt your face heat up under his gaze, instead of the growing fire.

“Why’d you even buy this land in the first place?” You asked, breaking eye contact as you looked around your makeshift campsite. The shack behind John, if you could even call it that, almost falling apart as Uncle slept. He sighed, staring into the cracking embers.

“Felt like I had something to prove, I guess.” He shrugged, “I never was very smart. Never had anything to my name. I had you at one point and screwed that up too.” He said, rubbing the back of his neck.

“John,” You started, your eyes flickering up from the fire. A blush settling on your cheeks. You two had been sweet on each other before, honestly you had never stopped being sweet on him. But he wasn’t ready for a real relationship, and you deserved better than being drug along for nothing.

“No,” He stopped you, his hand held up between you two. “You were the only thing that was good in my life and I pissed it away.”

“We were young, and for some reason I’m still following your sorry ass around.” You said, shaking your head. Refusing to meet his eye, you leaned forward with your hands resting on your knees. “You ain’t got nothing to prove, you’re a good man John Marston.” You said sparing him a glance. A soft smile graced his lips before he shook his head.

“Guess you ain’t too bad either, y/n.”

“Well that was never in question.” You said bringing the bottle back up to your lips, John let out a low chuckle. You both stared at the fire, it was easier than looking at each other.

“Will you-“ John started, his lip in between his teeth, “Will you stay with us here?” You smiled, warmth blooming in your chest. You looked up, pretending to mull it over.

“Until a better offer comes along.” You shrugged, laughing as John shoved your shoulder.

“Don’t have to be such a smartass.”

“Oh I think I do.” You grinned, raising your bottle. He rolled his eyes, a playful grin on his face. “You’re smiling.”

“Am not.” He said turning away. You shook your head, staring down at the crackling fire.

“What did you do for all those years, were you alone?” You asked, afraid of his answer. Although you couldn’t blame him if he hadn’t been, many nights you wished you had someone warming your bed, although it was always John you were dreaming of.

“Bounced around, ranch to ranch, just-“ he let out a long sigh, “Just trying to stay out of trouble.” You nodded looking up at him.“What about you?” He said, crossing his arms.

“Nothing really, hung low for a while, a year or two.” You shook your head, you honestly couldn’t remember what it was like in the early days. You had never been on your own before then, not that you could remember at least. “It was hard for a long time, but I had good teachers.” You smiled softly, feeling more melancholy the more you spoke. “Spent some of my time trying to make an honest living but you know how that goes.” You chuckled while taking a long drink from your bottle.

“You can say that again.” John chuckled, “Did you have any fellas in that time?” He asked, shifting his eyes from the fire to yours. You tried hiding your smirk.

“Nah, none that piqued my interest.” You smirked, unable to keep it at bay.

“Well that’s good to hear.” He chuckled to himself, taking a drink.

“And why is that?” You questioned, cocking your head to the side. Could he feel the same about you? He went silent, lowering his head so his face was covered by the brim of his hat. He let out a dry cough, clearing his throat.

“Oh, well- I just mean-“ He sighed, you giggled softly looking up at him.

“John-“

“I’m a damn fool,” He chuckled, shaking his head, “I finally got you back and I’m too chicken shit to do anything about it.” He said, running a hand down his face. Your heart started to beat faster at his small confession. You set your bottle down, walking over to him. His wide eyes met yours as you sat yourself down on his lap.

“Good thing I ain’t.” You said taking his hat off and setting it to the side. You leaned forward, rubbing your nose against his. Your breaths intermingled as you looked into his eyes. He took the initiative, leaning forward and capturing your lips with his own. His arms snaked around your waist as he pulled you closer, your clothed core rubbing against his crotch. You felt a moan rumble in his chest before it slipped out his lips. You smirked, your tongue swiping across his lower lip. He eagerly opened his mouth, his own tongue entering your mouth. He tasted like smoke and whisky, an intoxicating combination.

“Darlin, you don’t know how long I’ve wanted this.” He mumbled against your lips, before moving to kiss along your jaw.

“I know John, god I’ve wanted you for so long.” You breathed, running your fingers through his dark hair. He latched onto your throat, sucking a spot that would definitely bruise. You let out a soft moan, gripping his hair tightly. He thrust his hips upwards against your clothed cunt, causing a higher pitched moan to leave your mouth.

“Shh, don’t want Uncle to hear us.” John said softly, his hands slipping under the hem of your shirt, he rubbed his thumb against your stomach. His movements shot straight to your core. You bit your lip to stop a whine, as you rubbed yourself against his growing bulge.

“Fucking take me and stop teasing.” You growled pulling him up to kiss him. He smirked against your lips, slipping his hands under your ass as he lifted you up in his arms. He walked you over to his tent, setting you down on his bedroll. You made quick work with the buttons on your shirt, working them through the eyelets. You pulled your arms out of your shirt, removing your cotton undershirt. You sneaked a peek at John, who was pushing his pants down. Your eyes raked over his body, his union suit leaving little to the imagination. You pulled off your pants, left only in your bloomers.

“Fuck darlin.” John whispered his hands gripping your thighs as he pulled you closer to him. He dipped his head to your breast, taking your nipple in his mouth. His other hand kneaded your breast.

You laid your head back on the bedroll, a soft gasp exiting your mouth. He sat up, sinking his fingers into your bloomers before pulling them down. His finger dipped into your wet folds.

“Mmm,” You moaned, biting down on your lip. He smirked again, pushing his index finger into your warm heat. He pumped it in and out, his eyes never leaving your face as you fought the urge to moan. His thumb rubbed against your clit, making small circles on your nub. He added his middle finger, curling it inside of you. Your eyes rolled back into your head and the coil inside you tightened. Your nails dug into his arm, as your pussy clenched around his fingers. That familiar wave of bliss washing over you.

“Yeah that's right sweetheart.” John cooed, still pumping his fingers in and out of you.

“John-“ You breathed pulling him closer, he removed his fingers sucking them clean.

“Yeah sweetheart?” He said as he unbuttoned his union suit. Pulling his arms out, as he pushed it down his thighs. Your eyes raked over his body, scars from bullet wounds and cuts littered his body. Your mouth watered at the sight as your gaze followed the patch of hair from his chest down to his pelvis.

“Fuck me.” You huffed, propping yourself up on your elbow as your legs fell open.

“Yes ma’am.” He smirked, taking his thick cock in his hand. Pumping it twice before nosing his dick to your opening. He pushed himself into you slowly, a groan working its way out of his chest as he hung his head. “God damn you’re tight.” He hissed, his hands gripping your hips with a vice like grip as he slowly pushed his hips forward.

“John.” You whined, gripping his forearms as he seated himself in you fully. You had never been so full in your life, he was so deep you swore his tip was kissing your cervix.

“I know darlin-“ He rasped, slowly pulling his hips back before slamming back into you. Your breath knocked out of your chest as he picked up the pace.

“Ah- oh John!” You yelped before his hand covered your mouth. He moved your leg to sit on top of his hips and he leaned forward, resting his forearms next to your head.

“Feel good?” He grunted, squeezing his eyes close as he let out a hissed breath.

“Fuck- feels so good.” You whispered, tears starting to well up in your eyes. His hips met yours with every thrust, the sound of slapping skin filling the small tent. He grabbed one of your thighs, lifting it up onto his shoulder. You swore you saw stars at the new position. It had been so long since anyone had had you like this, and John was playing your body like a fucking fiddle. Every thrust punched the air out of your lungs as somehow he went deeper.

“Shit darlin-“ He huffed, his hot breath on your ear as he bent over you, “Squeezing me so good.” He groaned, nipping at your ear.

“Oh- John I-“ You cried, tears slipping down your cheeks. Your toes were curling as the pressure built inside your stomach.

“You close honey? You gonna come?” He cooed, kissing your neck, one of his hands moved down your body to your already sensitive bud. He flicked it once, maybe twice before your orgasm came crashing down. You mewled, trying to stay quiet as John wiped away your tears.

“That’s it, that’s it.” He groaned, squeezing his eyes shut as he strained his neck up. “Where do you want it?” He said as he sat up, still rutting his cock in and out of you.

“Inside.” You breathed, wrapping your legs around his hips as you pulled him closer.

“Oh- darlin I-“ He let out a low moan as he spilled inside of you, his hips twitching as he pumped his cum inside your heat . You let out a small sigh, letting your body go limp under him. He cradled your head in his hand, kissing you softly as he pulled his cock out of you. He sighed against your lips before laying down beside you. Pulling a blanket over both of your bodies. His arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you against him.

“I’m not letting you go this time.” He whispered against the shell of your ear.

“Good.” You said holding his arm against you, as you drifted off feeling his cum trickle down your thighs.

“Jesus what is that mark on your neck?” Uncle said his hand resting on his hip as you blushed from the top of your head to the tips of your toes.

“Nothing.” you said quickly, covering your neck with your hand.

“Good lord is that a hickey!” Uncle said recoiling at the sight, “Now who the hell would give you…” He trailed off his gaze shifting to John who was drinking his coffee.

“What?” John said, lowering the mug, a smug smile plastered on his face.

“Disgusting.” Uncle cringed walking away from the both of you back to the shack.

“Just had to mark me up, now didn’t you?” You asked, crossing your arms as you looked at John. He smirked shaking his head as he walked over to you

“You’re mine, everyone should know it.” He shrugged, pulling you into a searing kiss.

Maybe you could deal with a mark or two.

210 notes · View notes

fandomnerd9602 · 2 months

Text

Y/N walks into the kitchen looking more tan than usual…

Ben: fall asleep on the tanning bed? (Laughs)

Y/N: (blushes) nope

Sue: spent too long out in the sun?

Y/N: no

Jane Storm walks in, wearing only Y/N’s shirt…

Jane: oh baby, that was so hot. where do you think…h-hey guys

Sue:

Ben Grimm just laughs…

94 notes · View notes

witchthewriter · 2 years

Photo

𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐇𝐢𝐠𝐡 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐠𝐧𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

⤷ female, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!

a/n: There’s no NSFW because I didn’t feel like writing one xx

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ

🌿ESFJ 🍁Slytherin 📜Lawful Good 🔮Gemini Sun, Virgo Moon, Leo Rising

SFW🌿

⭑ It was as if Aslan had planned it all along

⭑ Someone to humble the High King; an outsider, an outcast. Someone that would ultimately merge parts of Narnia, and come together without fuss.

⭑ You bickered and snapped at each other from the day you met until your wedding (and it still happens from time to time)

⭑ Edmund loved you - and initially thought you would be the perfect match for him. But you were too alike, and the eldest brother had to marry first.

⭑ But after some time, he realised that Aslan was right. And you were better off as friends (not that he let anyone know his feelings).

⭑ Your wedding was HUGE, much bigger than you could have ever imagined. All of Narnia stopped for a whole day and night to celebrate the union

⭑ You both wore white, but his was a warmer cream and yours, a cooler ivory

⭑ Edmund was his best man and either Lucy or your own sister was your maid of honour.

⭑ Aslan officiated (obviously. And Lucy wanted him to wear a special hat)

⭑ And Susan was the official ‘witness’ (signing of the documents part)

⭑ Peter always sleeps on the right side of the bed

⭑ He’s a morning person. And gets grumpier as the day goes on. But perks up whenever he sees you

⭑ His petnames for you are, ‘Darling, Sweetheart, My Love, My Heart.’

⭑ Your petnames for him are, ‘Honey,’ ‘My Liege’ (said usually with a dramatic curtsy and head bow). But most times you just call him, ‘Peter,’ ‘Blondie’ or ‘Sword Boy.’

⭑ Training with you:

“No, see you’re not holding your sword high enough-” Peter moved to correct your form.

“What? Yes I am?” You rebutted, your eyebrows knitting together.

“Will you just let me help?” He retorted, giving you a stern look.

⭑ The others love it. They always watch on when you’re at it

“Peter should really learn to keep his mouth closed,” Lucy sighed as she and Susan looked on from the window.

⭑ You do feel insecure at times, but Peter is always there, either physically or emotionally hoisting you back on your feet.

“We’re together for a reason. We belong together.”

⭑ Peter can be very romantic

⭑ He never forgets a special occasion/event/milestone.

⭑ You’re usually the one that does

⭑ And he’s more sensitive than you are

⭑ Peter was very very jealous when Caspian came along

“I don’t know what Susan sees in him anyway...”

“Well he is handsome-”

Peter turned to you with raised eyebrows, “Oh is he now?”

⭑ Lucy loves spending time with you. You’re like another sister, and she loves it!

⭑ Susan absolutely adores you, especially now that she can outnumber Peter

⭑ Peter knows your favourite colour, flower, stone, piece of jewelry, day of the week, memory etc.

⭑ He suprises you with how well he’s remembered everything. You on the other hand ... don’t have the greatest memory. But you do try!

⭑ You’re always worried for the other’s safety

⭑ And you actually get into a lot more fights than he does

⭑ Relationship Tropes:

✧ Rivals to Acquaintances to Friends to Lovers/Married

✧ Mature/Responsible x Snarky/Fierce

✧ Sun x Moon

2K notes · View notes

cowboyfromh3ll · 6 months

Note

Ik you said resquests are close but my oh my, I'd love to see your relationship/sex hcs for the GIRLS

Mary-Beth, Karen, Tilly, Abigail, Molly, MAYBE EVEN MRS.GRIMSHAW IF UR FEELING QUIRKY

Relationship/Sex HC For VDL Gang Girls

Thank you anon for requesting something with the girls. Also I didn't include Sadie bc I wrote for her already previously in another post

Warnings: smut

Mary-Beth Gaskill

Very affectionate and loves showing you off

Lowkey writes short romance stories about the two of you but uses different names

Loves asking for your opinion on her outfits

Very shy with her writing but allows you to read em

Tries to recreate scenes the romance novels she reads with you

Plays with your hair and tries to style it for you

I can imagine her making flower crowns

Is so lovestruck, she definitely believes y'all are together FOR LIFE

NSFW

I just know she reads smut in her books

She'd probably ask to try out a few of the things she reads about

Comes off as docile or vanilla but would be surprisingly kinky, huge expiramentalist

Bottoms for sure

Would unintentionally grind into your face or shove you in while eating her out

High pitched moans or gentle mewls

Squirms and moves around a lot, just cannot sit still for the life of her

Karen Jones

She'll put on a tougher front but she needs a lot of reassurance

Very sweet in private

Gets flustered with PDA but still does it with you

Loves it when you hold one another closely especially around the camp fire

She'd become very vulnerable with you

Especially when she's drunk

She'd feel as though you're the only person who can see the real her, and that just makes her feel even more in love

When she's unable to take care of herself you do her hair for her

Asks to dance with you randomly

NSFW

As we saw in-game, cries during sex

Feels extremely vulnerable during the act, but instead of sadness it's more of an overwhelming feeling of love that brings her to tears

Super clingy, holds you close during

Wants to stimulate every sense, bascially smothering you

Loves kissing all up and down eachother's bodies while fondling and just holding

Also enjoys hand holding during sex

Likes to start off gentle but things get progressively wilder

Tilly Jackson

She's a playful, yet altruistic lover

Puts you before herself all the time

She could be bleeding out while you have a papercut and she'll insist they tend to you first

Constantly fixes things for you or just generally takes care of things just so you don't have to do them yourself

I hc that whenever she falls asleep on you she drools A LOT

Because she gets really relaxed

Likes sitting along rivers and lakes with you and feeding ducks or skipping rocks

Super short so she's gotta go on her tiptoes to kiss you; constantly cranes her neck to look at you, even gets taller boots

NSFW

Like in other aspects of your relationship, a giver

She knows just what you want, and is more than happy to provide

I feel like she'd be real skilled with her tongue and hands as a result, skill born out of practice

Kinda likes riskier sex so she'll opt for more scandalous locations or situations

Y'all could be doing chores together and the next thing y'know y'all are sneaking off behind a nearby tree

I feel like she'd top, but she's down to switch

Abigail Roberts

She's a good, honest woman

And she's got standards for her lover

Constantly has your back, and is very patient with you as you two grow with eachother

Constantly encourages said growth and improvement in oneself

Loves seeing you put effort into improvement or work!

She just wants a calm, stable life, so if you're able to provide that for her, even if little by little, she'll be happy

Very affectionate with you, one of her favorite things to do is to sit down and have deep, intimate conversations with one another while chilling

Doesn't care how many or mundane dates are, as long as the effort is there

NSFW

She's got demands, and they will be heard

Loves recieving head, or being the main focus of sex as you provide for her. Will hold your head in place

Likes telling you what to do, definitely a dom hehe

Into kinkier stuff so maybe tying you up or even spanking

LIVES to see you cry or to embarass you

She'd probably make you bark for her

Will top or bottom, doesn't matter to her as long as she's taking the lead

Likes passionate sex so she takes her time with every detail, especially foreplay, rather than speeding things up

Molly O'Shea

She falls HARD

The most lovestruck, romantic girlfriend ever

Writes love poems for you

Likes it when you show eachother off

Her favorite types of dates are when the two of you go out together and try new things

Like a new restaurant, a new spot, a new show, etc

Cue that meme of one girl sitting on another's lap while she does her makeup

Yeah that's her

Loves asking for your opinion on her makeup, greatly values your opinion in general

Constantly tells you she loves you, gets sad if you dont say it back

NSFW

Will ask you to be gentle but like rough passionate sex

Moans loudly and shamelessly

Definitely a pillow princess, this is cannon

She'd communicate lots with you about what she likes and what she wants you to do

In a modern setting I feel like she'd wear lingerie or sexy outfits for you

Probably likes roleplaying

Also a huge expiramentalist! Likes trying next and exciting things, including in the bedroom

Susan Grimshaw

This woman keeps you on your toes constantly

Probably a little high strung but it's easy to tear her walls down!

Good at setting and respecting boundaries, while also reminding you of her own

Knows the time and place for affection, so when y'all are working, wants to keep it to a minimum.

But during down time, loves to dance, talk, kiss, and play games together

She's super hardworking and she loves real hard

Good at grounding you and keeping you in check

Like many things in her life, puts so much effort into the relationship and will never let you down or make you feel neglected.

NSFW

Like Abigail, has demands that will be known

Though she'll make sure to pay special attention to you as well and not just focus on herself

I feel like she'd like to be called mommy LMAO

Loves taking care of you and the name during sex would definitely do things for her

She has lots of experience so you'll always recieve the most mindblowing orgasms

SHE KNOWS WHAT SHE'S DOING AND SHE KNOWS WHAT WOMEN WANT

Has like a mental map of your entire body imprinted into her mind at this point

Also hands, I feel like she'd be into anything hands

149 notes · View notes

wrenwreads · 7 months

Text

hidden treasures

Edmund discovers something new in Narnia. Or is it new? Lucy seems to be just unimpressed.

pairing/s: edmund pevensie x fem!mage!reader

warnings/other info: reader is implied to be also human but has magical capabilities? edmund a bit of an ignorant (lucy calls him one + an idiot). edmund bumps into reader. usual pevensie sibling banter. the fic itself might be a bit shit too, sorry

genre: fluff, strangers-to-friends

word count: 1,183

a/n: this is just something to get my writing brain working after going missing for ages lol (sorry) i got so so so caught up with my final exams n everyone leaving for uni and skdhkjgasjkdda but i'm better now and have more free time so hopefully i don't abandon you guys again (not gonna promise anything tho) - requests and questions r open!

Edmund remembers the day so vividly.

Susan had just been berating him about his king-ly duties. Almost demanding him to finish them. If Edmund's being honest, he would say she probably was. And he was growing sick — annoyed, actually — at Susan’s constant reminders. And it’s not like he doesn’t even finish them on time. He simply has his own pace.

He was getting close to snapping at his older sister, and from what his brain allows him to remember — snapping at now Queen Susan was worse than Finchley Susan.

So he simply scoffed, standing up from his seat, heading out of the castle — desperate for some fresh air.

With his satchel with him, he decided to walk around town. Greeting Narnians here and there, occasionally stopping by stands to feed his own curiosity. He even remembers picking up another book, one he now keeps on his nightstand to read when he can’t go to bed.

What had been so significant about the day was stumbling onto something — someone, rather — who he swears he had not met before.

“Oh! I sincerely apologise your majesty. I wasn’t looking where I was going. Although, I am in a rush so... I’ll see you around!”

The moment was too quick for Edmund to register. Only a couple moments after did he realise the voice that had just spoken to him. Accent almost too familiar to just be Narnian. He whipped his head around, watching as the same person rushes through the busy workings of the town, impressively dodging obstacles along their way.

Now on present day, his attempts at convincing his siblings that there is a new citizen in town are going nowhere. Peter seems to have just started ignoring him, Susan the same, and Lucy… Lucy is just unimpressed.

“Have you really just met the healing mage, Ed? Really?”

“I swear Lu she’s— wait, healing mage?”

Lucy sighs, looking at Susan for back up. The older girl only shrugs, leaving her to herself and when she looked at Peter, the man was already chuckling.

Edmund observes the exchange happening before him, confusion clouding his mind.

“Can someone just catch me up on what’s going on? Please?” he practically begs.

“That’s Y/N you’re talking about, you ignorant idiot. And she’s not new. She moved here — appeared rather, a few months ago when you were out for diplomacy. I guess you really just haven’t bumped into her before.”

“What do you mean appeared? Is she a daughter of Eve to—”

“I think that’s a question for you to ask her Edmund. It seems you have been ignoring the sole person keeping Narnians healthy.”

The next day, Edmund woke up early to deliver a basket of herbs. It was meant to be Lucy’s job, one that she personally does every week and the same job Edmund questioned but never asked about. Well, now he’s about to get his answers and Lucy argues it’s an excuse for him to finally meet the mage.

He follows the path with white lilies per Lucy’s instructions.

“Y/N loves lilies, especially white ones.” She had added.

As soon as he felt that he was getting lost, a small cottage appears just a few more lilies away.

He had to pause in his step. It was quaint, the cottage looking like it was out of a fairy-tale the way nature surrounded it. Not that Edmund can say that anymore, the way he and his siblings made it to Narnia proved too good to be true at first.

His admiration was cut short when he heard the door swinging open, revealing no one else but the same person he had bumped into the day before. Only this time, Edmund can see her clearly and she is no longer in a rush. He continued watching, his presence seemed to be unknown as Y/N continued fussing around her front garden. Her mouth was moving, seemingly talking to the greenery.

Edmund takes a step forward, slowly making out the words coming out of her mouth as he gets closer.

“Come on Thistle! We haven’t got all day! And Lokas, please tell me that’s not a ruby in your hand?! Oh please, I already told you—”

“Hello!”

The young girl’s erratic dialogue came to a stop. Her body looking like it froze in place as she gawks at Edmund. The creatures below her were no different. Edmund had just realised she was surrounded by not only nature, but creatures alike — faeries and pixies, gnomes of almost all ages, and pixies.

She blinks. Once. Twice.

Finally gaining her senses back, she straightens herself up and smiles. “Good morning, your majesty! I wasn’t expecting you today.”

Edmund could only smile, raising the basket he still had in his hold. “Neither did I. Unfortunately, Lucy had some emergency duties to run this morning so I offered to do her plant delivery.”

“Oh! That’s very thoughtful of you your majesty, but you shouldn’t have. I would’ve picked it up myself at the castle anyway.”

She had now gotten closer, leaving her front gate open as she accepts the basket from Edmund, a sudden gasp escaping her lips as she does so. “Oh! Where are my manners. I’m Y/N, your majesty. I should’ve done that sooner.”

“Consider us two even. After-all, I am the one here only just hearing about you and your job as the kingdom’s healer.”

Y/N laughs. “And oh, please, just call me Edmund.”

“Is that the king I see again?”

The faery’s question had Y/N looking up from her cauldron, confused. After making sure her current concoction was not going to blow up anytime soon, she pats her hands dry on her apron as she makes her way to the same table where Thistle was currently hovering. Her brows furrow as she makes out Edmund walking towards her cottage.

“It sure is Thistle. I wonder what he’s here for.”

She exits her own home, a smile – although a bit sceptical — forming on her face. Edmund smiles back, walk turning into a slight jog as he gets closer. “I didn’t think you’d be back so soon, Edmund. I hope everything’s alright at the castle.”

Worry replaces her confusion. The only reason a member of the castle, the king rather, would personally pay her a visit would be because something had gone wrong and they needed her help. “Oh! Don’t worry. Everything is well in shape. I was just… bored. Yeah, bored.”

Y/N nods, sensing the growing nervousness of the young king.

“Bored, you say?”

“Yes.”

“And you decided to come here?”

“Yes.”

Is it bad to tease your royal highnesses a bit?

“To my small cottage?”

Surely not.

“Yes…”

“Where you could have easily done, I don’t know — fencing or riding on your horse. You know, like what other kings do?”

“Yes…?”

Her smile turns into a smirk, finding amusement in the way Edmund began questioning his own answers. She chuckles, allowing Edmund to relax — a nervous laugh escaping himself. “I’m only teasing. Would you like to come in, Edmund?”

#edmund pevensie #lucy pevensie #peter pevensie #susan pevensie #the chronicles of narnia x reader #edmund pevensie x reader #edmund pevensie imagine #king edmund the just #narnia x reader #chronicles of narnia x reader #x reader #edmund x reader #pevensie x reader #wrenwritesed

227 notes · View notes