#this is sfw but the fic itself is not

[blushweddinggowns]

“Just hold still…and done!” Nancy grinned as she capped the eyeliner. She brushed a lock of hair out of his face before declaring, “You’re officially stage-ready.”

Eddie turned to look at himself in the mirror, instantly pleased with what he saw. Steve always said that his big-ass Bambi eyes were his best feature, and the eyeliner really was making them pop. Add that with the tight jeans, the leather jacket, and the combat boots, and Eddie actually looked like he belonged on a stage. 

He looked good, but he only cared so much about his own thoughts, “You think Steve will like it?”

Nancy rolled her eyes, “Like you have to ask. We’ll be lucky if he doesn’t have a heart attack.”

Eddie grinned at that. He could only hope that his reaction would be that good, “And it will last all night?”

“At least for 12 hours,” She reassured, “I used the good stuff. This eyeliner lasted on my mom for a fifteen-hour plane ride once, with layovers. You’re ready.”

Eddie nodded. That was basically equivalent to spending a wild night with Steve, the odds were in his favor. He reached over to give Nancy a one-armed hug, taking the time to hover for a second before she gave him a subtle nod. 

“God, you’re such a lifesaver,” Eddie sighed as he squeezed her to his side, “You sure you don’t want to come?”

Nancy snorted, “Are you kidding me? My dad would ground me for the next five years if I got caught. And you know I love you guys but I can barely deal with Steve gushing over you on a normal day, let alone one where you actually look hot.”

“Awwww, you think I’m hot?” Eddie cooed, laughing at the way it made her cringe.

She was already gathering everything back up into her makeup bag, trying and failing to hide her little smile, “Don’t push it.”

But he did, of course he did, the whole way back to the Wheeler house, earning himself a sharp pinch to his arm more than once. He dropped her off at home, promising that they would call her first thing in the morning to say how it went. Then he picked up his boys and the four of them were off, all of them excited out of their minds. 

Eddie had never imagined that he would be playing on a real stage, in a real city. It had been a silly little radio contest for a charity event, first five callers got the privilege to audition to be a one-time opener for Metallica, a band that Eddie adored but the rest of the world hadn’t seemed to have caught on to yet. It was a one-time thing, paired with some great luck for the station to catch them for a single night before their next album release. But still, it was a big deal, especially for people like them that had less than zero connections. Steve was the one who insisted that they call in. Eddie had just never thought that they would have actually won. 

But they had, and the prize was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to meet a band that Eddie just knew was going to be huge one day. Plus, free hotel rooms for the weekend? What more could a guy ask for? 

It was a fun drive, of course it was. You couldn’t get Eddie, Freak, Gareth, and Jeff in a room together without it being a blast. The only problem was that he already missed Steve. Which was, admittedly, stupid as fuck considering that he’d see him in a matter of hours. He just hated that he had to sneak out for this. Or more aptly, he hated that his parents forced him to sneak out for this. But they had a good plan here. 

He’d lie and say he was going to bed early to prepare some bullshit elaborate date for Nancy, one that would involve him being gone for all of Saturday. He’d sneak out his window by seven, drive the two hours to be there just in time for the curtains opening at nine-thirty. Then they’d spend the night together like they had been every night for years, his parents none the wiser.

The shitheads. 

Saturday night and Sunday would be a little trickier, but Steve was coasting off the fact that his parents usually forgot to say goodbye when they left for a trip. They had a red-eye flight at 3 am, and Nancy was already prepped to make a fake phone call to ask if he could stay for dinner Saturday. With any luck, they would forget about him entirely, both of them too tired to think about the fact that they wouldn't have seen their son for nearly two days. The last bit was more of a gamble, but Steve wasn’t about to let his parents' wrath ruin his shot at a romantic and paid-for weekend with his boyfriend. Besides, when it came to Nancy, his mom basically never questioned anything. Hell, she was basically on the edge of planning their fucking wedding at this point, beyond ecstatic that Steve had finally gotten himself a permanent girlfriend. 

God, that girl really was a lifesaver. Eddie was almost surprised at just how much he liked her, and not even because she was beyond useful when it came to hiding their relationship. She was just…kind of cool? He didn’t know how else to describe it, but her whole gun-toting, no-nonsense, and slightly bitchy persona was really doing it for him. Honestly, on a bad day, Eddie was slightly afraid of her, but he kind of liked that too. The fact that she could go from scarily intense to sarcastically hilarious just equated to a winning personality in his book. And that wasn’t even counting how happy she made Steve, and vice versa. 

Sometimes he’d wander into the room that they were supposed to be studying in, only to find the two of them completely off the rails either talking about their shared passion for musicals, high school gossip, or more often than not, Steve Harrington approved seduction methods for her to try out on Jonathan Beyers. Or Tom Cruise, depending on the timing. 

They wouldn’t even notice that he walked in most of the time, too caught up in laughing with each other. Maybe it was weird, but sometimes Eddie would just watch them for a minute. Steve would be all giggly and smiling and adorable, and it just made Eddie feel warm. Hell, even seeing Nancy happy was enough to make him smile most days, the girl deserved it after everything she’d been through last year. She was a good person and a good friend. And Eddie was going to get her so many corny Indy souvenirs for covering their asses tonight. 

They were all nervous as hell when they finally got there, but actually getting to meet the band while they were setting up went surprisingly well. Though that mostly had to do with the fact that they had prepared for it. They had a fool-proof system of aggressively stepping on each other’s feet when one got a bit too fangirly. And though it left all four with some bruises, it did manage to stop Gareth from telling James Hetfield that he would totally marry him if he was a chick. They made a good impression, Eddie was pretty damn sure of it considering they offered free tickets for their next tour. 

It was fun, even if he was still nervous as all hell when it was their time to play. He had never felt this anxious walking out on stage before. Maybe that had to do with the fact that it was a real stage, but still. He wasn’t the type to be nervous about performing at all, whether that be at the Hideout or hopping on lunch tables for an impassioned speech. 

He swallowed as he looked out into the crowd, heart pounding in his chest as he realized just how many people were there. It was a far cry from the Hideout where they would be lucky to get ten people to actually notice when they were finished. But this had to be a hundred plus. Eddie’s eyes zeroed into the front row, scanning it for the one thing that could calm him down. It didn’t take long to spot him. 

There he was, smack dab in the middle of the row, completely out of place with his adorable pink polo. He was leaning against the railing, hearts in his eyes as he waved up at him. Eddie grinned, his nerves disappearing the second Steve blew him a kiss. Just the sight of him was enough to bring Eddie back down to earth.

He stepped up to the mic, guitar in hand, and started to sing.

Excerpt from chapter 14 of this fic

#steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #eddie munson #steve harrington #the universe trapped in your skin #stranger things #very indulgent chapter #before the drama of season 2 #and i know thats not how radio contests work or where metallica even was but #lucky for me its all fantasy lol #this is sfw but the fic itself is not #secret relationship steddie #beard nancy wheeler #steddie childhood friends au #steve and nancy friendship #eddie and nancy friendship

[thirstworldproblemss]

Ficlet: Kindness

Pairing: Din x gn!reader* Fandom: The Mandalorian Words: 645 Rating: Teen ...maybe? Content/Warnings:  One (1) very oblique reference to sexual arousal/yearning. *Also: while this fic is technically gender neutral—(I think? let me know if you spot any gendered language that I missed)—it was written with a specific (female) "reader" in mind

Summary: A Mandalorian (ficlet) for Cindy ✨

Notes: This is a short little thing that I wrote for Cindy (@keeper0fthestars) once upon a time in response to a 'who would you ship me with and why?' ask game that was going around. I considered expanding or reworking this before posting, but somehow it doesn't seem fair to take it any further now that C's no longer here to see it… So here it is, exactly as I shared it with her. It's not my best work ever or terribly polished—it was never intended to be anything more than a silly little blurb for a silly little ask game—but it was fun to write, and sharing it with Cindy brought us both joy.  In the end, I think that's enough. In the end, I think that was everything.

[ twp’s Masterlist ]

—— 

Din doesn't quite know what to make of you at first.

You are…. Kind.  Consistently and deliberately thoughtful in a way that’s unfamiliar to him.  You’re other things too: funny and pretty and smart, and so much braver than he gave you credit for in the beginning.  But somehow it’s your kindness that always catches him off-guard.  He’s not used to people offering to help him without strings attached or being kind just for the sake of kindness.

He hires you to take care of the kid, and you do, but somehow you wind up taking care of him as well.

When he returns to the ship with a bounty, you’re there to greet him, always checking in to make sure he's okay.  The first time it happens, the attention makes him feel uncomfortable—oddly… exposed—and he brushes off your inquiries with a brusque, "I'm fine; save it for the kid,” before ingrained politeness makes him follow up with a soft, "thank you" a few moments later.  You smile at him, and he has to look away.

You are kind, always smiling at him or offering him a share of the meal you made for yourself and the kid.  He thinks at first that it's the unfamiliarity of being cared for that makes his breath catch.  And if his heart beats a little faster when you lay a concerned hand on his arm, it's just the novelty of a gentle, non-threatening touch.

The problem is that it doesn't stop happening. 

The warm smiles, the kindness, the gentle touches, the sharing of food and stories and space eventually become routine.  But it never stops affecting him.  If anything, it gets worse or maybe better.  A look from you is enough to leave him flushed, skin prickling under his armor.  The smallest interactions make his heart beat fast like he’s chasing down a bounty in full armor.  Even just watching you with the kid—loving yet firm in a way that somehow, miraculously works—leaves him breathless, yearning for something he doesn’t fully understand.

You are kind, and he grows greedy for that kindness.  Cataloging every smile and touch and glance from you. He hoards them away in his memory like precious treasures, reliving each one alone in his bunk at night and savoring the remembered warmth of your attention.  But still he wants more. Can’t help but think of all the different ways you might touch or look upon each other. Dreams of your eyes on him, your hands, your bare skin against his, unstymied by armor or helmet, and wakes hard and aching.  Wonders if he could make you ache for him in return.

You are kind.

You are kind. 

You are kind, but it feels like more. Like something half-remembered from another life, from before the culvert and the mandalorians and the droid attack.  He wants it to be more.  He wants that feeling, that life… with you. He thinks sometimes that you might want the same.  But you're so thoughtful. So good.  So consistently nice to everyone you meet.  No matter how long he watches you, he can't tell if he is special to you or just one of many.  (Maker, he wants to be special.)

You are kind, and he cannot find the words to tell you how much that means to him, so he gives you the ones he has.  He says, “thank you” and “you’re good with the kid” and “let me help you, please” and tries his best to repay a little of that kindness, to give you back some small part of the happiness and peace you bring to him.  He hopes he’s managing it.  His heart soars like a rising phoenix every time he manages to make you smile.

Maybe someday he'll find the right words and the courage to say them, but for now? 

You are kind, and it’s enough.

.

The Beginning.

.

——

Want more to read? [ twp’s Masterlist  |  Author, Fic & Fanwork Recs ]

——

End Notes & More About Cindy:

Cindy (@keeper0fthestars) passed away on December 25th, 2022—one month ago today. She was a bright light in this fandom, and she was my friend. You can read the announcement posts here & here; and more about her here (w link to her obituary), here (w link to donate in her memory), here (w her eulogy), and here (soliciting t-shirt design ideas to raise money in her memory).

This is probably as close to a memorial post for her as I’ll get, so I guess I better say what I need to say.

...And what can I say about Cindy?

Only a few weeks after she and I first traded shy DMs full of mutually admiring fangirl flailing, she spotted a single panicked post of mine (about not being able to get in touch with my seriously ill husband who I'd sent to the ER alone at the height of the pandemic because there was no one else to watch the kids).

He was ultimately fine, and I honestly don’t even remember why he couldn’t contact me. But what I do remember is that Cindy was one of two people to reach out, and she spent hours chatting with me, distracting me, and keeping me company while I waited to hear from him. I remember she stayed up long past both our bedtimes so that I wouldn’t have to be alone with my worry. 

That right there tells you what sort of person Cindy was, and I doubt that story would surprise anyone who knew her.

Cindy was a lot of things: She was smart and wickedly funny. She was humble and so, so very brave. And I think anyone who’s read her amazing stories knows that she possessed both mind-boggling talent and a gloriously debauched imagination.  But what always stood out to me was the way she was unfailingly thoughtful, supportive and kind, even in the midst of her own harsh struggles.

It was Cindy's kindness that I thought of when I started to write out some ideas for that long-ago ask game request. And of course I had to chose Din—both because she loved him and because… if anyone needs a little kindness in their life, it’s our favorite tin can space man dad. In typical hot mess™ twp fashion, it quickly got out of hand, morphing into this little ficlet, which then languished, mostly finished, in my drafts for... quite a while.

I finally, belatedly, got around to finishing and sharing it with her months and months (and months ^^') after the fact, in an attempt to cheer her up after yet another round of bad news. By that point it had been so long since the original post that I felt silly and a bit embarrassed even to show it to her. But of course... feelings like that could never survive an encounter with Cindy. Somehow, despite the fact that I was trying to do something nice for her, she was so enthusiastic and effusively grateful that I wound up feeling special too. 

Cindy was just... like that.

You know that Maya Angelou quote? The one that ends with, "People will never forget how you made them feel." Well Cindy was a master of that: she had a way of making everyone she talked to feel heard and welcome and supported. She made you feel special.... Because to her, you were. We were. Each and every one of us.

She never stopped saying how much she loved this fandom. How glad she was to have found a refuge in it. How grateful she was for the friendships she made here.

And I will never stop being grateful for my friendship with her.

Rest in peace, my love 💕

#din djarin #the mandalorian #din djarin x reader #gender neutral reader #(kind of?) #fanfic #ficlet #thristworldproblemss #sfw #in memory of #keeper0fthestars #cindy ✨ #fluff #it's not spelled out within the fic itself but this is definitely #mutual pining #*my fic

[myreygn]

moonshine

pair: oikawa tooru x reader

an: could technically be understood as fem!reader since they’re addressed with -chan, but there are no pronouns used and oikawa also calls iwaizumi iwa-chan, so ig it can be any gender you like

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if you know me and this blog, you might be a little confused. ‘i thought her rules said no x reader’, you might think, or ‘i thought she hated y/n’ and you’re absolutely right either way. HOWEVER. @duckymcdoorknob doesn’t hate y/n and since today is her birthday i decided to make an exception. yall hear me?? this is a one time thing!

anyway, HAPPY BIRTHDAY DUCKY, i hope you’re having the most wonderful day and that you like this thingy here a little bit - you once made a post about your ideal self ship tropes and the one for oikawa said ‘brother’s best friend’, so lucky you has been assigned the sibling of iwaizumi hajime. as promised once upon a time, this is completely sfw and i tried my best to avoid any suggestive undertones whatsoever <3

wordcount: 1096

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The noise of the key in the door startles you a little – up until this point, you've been lying on the couch and scrolling through your phone in peace and quiet and you're not expecting any of your family members back until later this evening. As it turns out, your expectations aren't proven wrong.

“Hiya, (y/n)-chan!” Oikawa Tooru whistles and takes off his shoes before entering the living room. “How are you doing?”

“Fine.” He sits on the armchair next to the couch, his legs crossed, wearing a pair of jeans and a hoodie – it's not really cold outside yet, but you've known this boy since he was four years old and if you've learned one thing about him, it's that he freezes to death at any temperature below the average summer weather. “Hajime's not here.”

“Oh, I know. He said I could wait here for him and make dinner while I'm already at it.”

You can't help it, you just have to giggle at the pout on his face. “Make dinner? You?”

“I know, right?! Iwa-chan should know better than anyone that I can't cook!”

“Maybe he just hasn't lost his belief in you yet.” You try to sound as serious as possible, though your barely contained laughter betrays you – Tooru is just too adorable pouting like that. “Or he wants to see you panic and then order takeout which you'll tell him is something you cooked so that he doesn't have to pay for dinner.”

Tooru gasps, a hand on his chest; “How could you say that?! I would never order food to make my friends believe that I cooked something for them!”

“You literally did that two weeks ago.”

“Liar!”

“For your information, no one fell for it.”

“Rude, (y/n)-chan!”

You laugh and lean over to pat his shoulder sympathetically. “Don't worry, Hajime told me that they were all just grateful that you didn't try for real and poison anyone.”

“Wow.” Tooru sniffles. “I can't believe it. Can you believe that?!”

“I can, actually. I like you a lot, but I've tasted your cooking and no, thank you.”

“As if your cooking was any better!”

“Hey, no need to get personal!” You sit up to properly look at him with furrowed eyebrows. “Also, I for one haven't almost burned down the kitchen yet!”

Tooru frowns and seems to think your words through for a second, then he shrugs and the tiniest bit of a smirk tugs at the corners of his mouth. “Touche.”

You can't help but stare a little. He's always been exceptionally pretty (which, unfortunately, he knew) and although you've spent most of your life successfully pretending to no feel drawn towards him whatsoever, that successful streak is now long over. You don't even know when your heart decided to finally submit to the crush you had on him.

Looking back at it now, you're pretty sure that it has kinda... always been there. Laughing at Tooru's jokes has always been easy. Having a chat with him has always been easy. It just... fit. And you can't remember at which point the realization hit for the life of you, but one day your heart stopped at the sight of the exact same smirk he's giving you right now-

“(y/n)-chan?” Tooru sounds mildly amused, but there is the tiniest bit of sincere concern in his voice – an honesty you know is reserved for people who are very close to him and the mere thought of being a part of this elusive circle makes your heart beat a little bit faster.

“Uh, yeah? Sorry, I just-”

“Drifted off?” He chuckles lightly, the concern is gone. “I could see that.”

You just nod, trying not to prompt him to continue this conversation about the whole thing even further, but of course it doesn't go as planned. That's the thing about Oikawa Tooru: things never go as planned. At least not as planned by people who were not Oikawa Tooru himself.

“Where did you drift off too?”

“H-huh?”

He slightly rolls his eyes, the smirk ever present on his lips. “What did you think about?”

You. “My homework.”

“So your homework has you smiling like an idiot?”

You scoff and lift your chin. “You'd be freaking out about it! We deal with space right now!”

It's almost comical how Tooru's eyes begin to sparkle immediately, a childlike, beaming grin spreading his lips and the joy clearly audible in his voice when he speaks; “Really?! Okay, I can see why you're smiling- what's your homework?! Do you need help?!”

You chuckle a little at his barely contained excitement, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach – studying with Oikawa Tooru, that's like a middle school dream come true. “Hmm, I don't know... I'm supposed to prepare a short PowerPoint about the moon, are you sure you can help me with that?”

“Yes!” His voice has risen an octave and it's the most adorable you've seen him in years. “Absolutely! I know everything there is to know about the moon! Please let me help you (y/n)-chan, pleasepleasepleaseplease-”

“Fine, alright!” You laugh, then put up your finger before he can thank you. “On one condition! You take back that I smile like an idiot! My smile is marvelous!”

He raises an eyebrow in surprise, then one of his own, rare, genuine smiles shows on his face and he leans forward to softly squeeze your hand, and if that doesn't make your breath hitch- “I take it back.” The warmth of his fingers disappears, instead he now widens his smile and the slightest bit of pink appears on his cheeks as he stands up. “Your smile is gorgeous. Now let's get going, Iwa-chan will be back in a bit.”

“Careful, Tooru,” you tease after you've cleared your head a little – gorgeous, he had called you gorgeous – “Hajime might think you're not even here for him.”

Tooru shrugs and grabs your wrist to pull you up from the couch. “Well, I'm not right now at least.” He flashes you another smile before averting his eyes in an almost shy manner. “It's actually pretty uncommon for me to be here for Iwa-chan exclusively.”

Before you can really comprehend what he just said, Tooru covers the slight blush on his cheeks with a flirty wink and pulls you with him to go to your room. “Now let's work on that assignment, 'kay moonshine?”

#haikyuu!! #haikyuu!! fanfiction #haikyuu!! x reader #oikawa tooru #oikawa tooru x yn #oikawa tooru x reader #oikawa tooru x you #fluff #sfw fluff #fic #rey writes #enjoy #this won't repeat itself

[getodrools]

Just read every one of your Toji fics.. Mr Krabs I have an idea.. Size kink toji and reader that have been sexting and calling nonstop online finally meet up

໒꒰ྀ ྀིᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.ﾟ thankuu thehe ! ! i am soo ready to indulge in this idea wink wonk 😼 but toji is old soo expect him to act it in the txts el oh el — i hope u enjoy ! <3 btw i did not proofread this whole thing sob ! !

◜ ⟣ DICK APPOINTMENT! ─── T. FUSHIGURO ‧ ✧ ◞

ᯓ★ warnings. mdni | f! reader | sws, sexting, [n]sfw twt links, size difference/kink, he's HUNG, belly bulge, cervix/womb fucking, overstimulation, he takes vids + pics of reader!, age gap ( reader: early 20s, toji: late 30s ), praising, cunnilingus, fingering, squirting ( x2 ), overstimulation, mindbreak, creampie. ᡣ 𐭩 | wc. 3.6k + |

THE YAWN STRETCHING YOUR mouth wide exhaled pure exhaustion out of you… Tapping at the cluttered papers on your desk with a pretty pink pen, bored out of your mind — until — your phone buzzed in your back pocket.

Fishing for it, your eyes light up brighter than the notification buzzing itself.

[ 🔔 big dick dilf 🫠 3m ago ]

It makes you gleam. Knowing that silly little name you picked out suited him all too well… Always reminding you how he's a rather older man, of course — an older man that was also packing a threat of three dicks in one in those grey sweats he'd always wear…

He was simply a big dick dilf you loved texting!

════════════════════

<– big dick dilf 🫠 > 🎥

Today 6:58 PM

| 🔗 Attachment: Two Videos –> ONE | TWO

| Watching those videos of you playing with yourself right now :)

| Making my dick so hard pretty girl.

tojiiii |

im at worrrk rn dont do this to mee |

| Haha.

| Can't help it. You make me horny.

♡ hehe |

but gossh it takes sooo long to take him out |

…wish i wasnt working today :( |

| Too long sometimes haha.

| But I hope it goes easy today baby 😁

| Want to have some fun with me to pass time then ;) ? Send me some upskirt pics? Show me how hardworking you are.

yes baby but only if u cum to them :(( |

| I promise.

🔗 Attachment: Five Photos + Two Videos |

enjoyy ;p |

| Hot! You look so fucking wet naughty girl.

| Thank you.

| 🔗 Attachment: One Video

| Got me cumming so hard.

yummy >< that was a lot toji! |

i get u that excited? :D |

| All the damn time.

| But don't get caught fingering yourself in the office for me now haha.

i cant stop so no promises 😽 |

| Fuck. I wish I was fucking that pretty pussy instead of those fingers.

| I'd fill you up so much more.

i wish u could fuck me too ♡ |

but aaah exactly!! ur so big!! |

idk if i could handle all that ;(( |

| Let me come over and grant that wish? Haha.

| I’ll take care of you. So don't you worry your pretty little head off, let me do that ;)

gosh toji who could say no >< |

| Why not? It's been long enough and I can't stop thinking about you and that perfect body.

true ☹️ |

every time u txt my pussy just gets so wett :(( |

idk how much longer i can take without u being in me!? :(( |

| Fuck. Making me hard again.

| Then let's do something about that ;) When do you get off tonight? 10 like usual?

mhm! |

u promise youll rlly come over? |

i dont wanna play with myself all alone tonight :( |

| Shit. You're so fucking bad.

| As much as I like those videos you send when you do… I promise you won't be lonely tonight.

yayy! omgg im so excited!! ♡ |

*SHARED LOCATION* |

| Me too 👍🏼

Read 7:04 pm

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No. You were nervous.

It was thirty minutes past ten, and he seemed to have left soon as you sent your address — Toji had mentioned living only just a few towns over from you, three or so hours away, so you thought it'd be a while ‘till then… but soon as you were done trying to recollect and prepare yourself, you were already hearing a hard knock bust at your front door…

You met him through Facebook.

He seemed like a family guy but distant from said family… The obvious sign he was an older man, no less than thirty by the looks of his awkward profile picture; a low angle as if he wasn't aware of the camera pointing at him, yet it caught the scruffy look aging at his chin and the low set of leafy eyes you adored — he was rather handsome.

That haggard look of a tired hunk of a man itched something in you.

Digging deeper, his social profile seemed old and rarely updated, but the little collection in weapons and fishing, random masculine quotes, and scenic views was fitted when he did… but that ‘not in a relationship’ status highlighted right at your own pretty eyes…

You reached out to him day of, curious and intrigued. A rise of fun risk chatting with an older man online coiled something in you — yearning for the attention and he damn sure delivered.

Approximately within 24 hours.

Toji greeted himself quick, and then conversations began to pick up more frequently, from daily pictures of just random things going on in your lives to full-on phone calls within weeks! Hearing him for the first time rumbled a deep pit in your core to erupt. His voice so smooth and husky, like auditory caramel that was pleasant to the ears, and even that slight rasp on some of his syllables he'd drawl out was scratching further into your brain to feen for more.

You didn't need to take anything further from your own hands. He seemed rather lonely yet mysterious, but made it very clear what he wanted.

Toji initiated the flirtatious comments once he figured out how to open your photo gallery on your profile, or once he figured out the FaceTime option to get a full live view of your pretty self some more… You remember it was on the second or so phone call when he started to chuckle out praises of how beautiful you are. Even admiring your intellect or your creativity when you'd show him your hobbies and such...

You were filing something in for him — vice versa too…

You also remember when you first sent a picture of your tits out of craven; fleshy mountains peaked hard at the tips, forcing them to jiggle once you found the courage to make videos for him after the overwhelming praise the first time.

He made you feel… special.

More or so, when you first saw his cock. That's when the button to malfunction clicked.

That day, you swore your jaw was sore the whole evening from how hard it dropped. You could not believe how hung he was — jackpot!

From what you could see through such a simple device, Toji’s dick dangled between his thick thighs like a damn church bell clanging with mighty vigor. When the meaty log slapped from side to side against naked flesh, it had weight—it was heavy and made an audible fleshy clap. In some of his videos, he'd lift his shirt up too — showing more of himself off as if that alone wasn't enough. He knew was sculpted like fine marble chiseled to perfection, he just had to make sure you saw what he worked so hard on…

When the older man first jerked himself off, moaning right into the speaker; lewd groans of your name spewing out, you couldn’t help but admire the way his fingers barely touched when he fucked up into his fist… Usually a collage of your naked self was on his laptop while he recorded himself getting off. It was cute. But fuck, the tan skin gliding over his bulbous tip always swepped that oozing, sappy pre he invariably seemed to drench himself with — practically lubing that nth-inch bitch breaker to full extent...

It was always so pretty even when it was sleeping. When he was really in a mood, he'd call you and let you watch it grow — let you talk filthy to make him twitch into the full hard pole it wakes up in…

His soft was as big as your ex’s hard.

Sighing heavily.

You had plenty of calls and videos shared with him, mostly getting off on each other with zoom-ins on your pretty bits… So, this couldn't be any different… Clearly, it wasn't enough anymore to only tease each other, you ached for the real thing — the real mammoth cock you watched like an addict to get lodged right up your bare pussy...

Damn, why were your hands so clammy.

Reminding yourself, your situation with him was always an annoyingly so close, yet so far annoyance. And this was the time to change that.

Marching up to the door with your head high, a throbbing pang shot right between your legs reminding you exactly what you craved for.

Another knock banged at your door before you could reach the golden knob.

Scratch that.

Feeble like sand falling, “Oh fuck…” Your stomach twists. She was thinking for you! Dammnint he was a monster, think clear! Not even the tip could nudge through.

Relax.

This was your first time ever meeting up with someone on the internet — let alone meeting with them to fuck. Or even just creating a full-blown sexual relationship in the digital world… A sexual relationship with a man twice your age too— twice your damn mass not to mention for the tenth time!

The third knock felt like a punch straight to your gut when the hinges rattled.

His presence was strong. You knew he was standing on the other side of that thin wall barring between you both ever so patiently. This is all that was between you now, not miles of distance or digital love, just a closed door.

You could hear heavy boots click off.

Shit!

Your phone goes off too.

Head spinning like a barrel at each noise that seemed rather louder than they actually were... you catch the notification banner with his name written all over it.

[ 🔔 big dick dilf 🫠 1m ago ]

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<– big dick dilf 🫠 > 🎥

Today 10:53 PM

| Hey baby

| I think I'm here. It's 201 right?

| The ice cream is melting 😱 Haha.

Read 10:53 pm

| Hey?

Read 10:54 pm

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Toji was holding a container of mixed ice cream, that is in fact melting… but spotting flowers with a small black bag hanging in his other hand, you puckered out your lips in awe, glossing them over with your tongue.

Though as stiff as your neck went as you looked him up and down, you savored that saliva drying up in your mouth. Feeling it run barren only catching half his robust body that seemed to wander off with his own head glued into his phone, seeming to check again for the address.

Attempting to swallow that dry pit clogged in your throat to muster up a pitiful, “Toji… Hi.” Idiot.

When he turned, his body's depth grew tenfold.

He was massive. Now catching sight of a clear view of his full sature, he could be described as one would with a walking goliath… A great abundance of stacked muscles kissed even through his grey sweater; pecs strong and full – round even with long limbs standing tall in a might of mass to settle around bones, and it only takes a few steps for him to reach you.

You audibly gulp.

Throat bobbing as his face drew closer, and as he did, Toji held a simple, small smile. Noticing that notable scar he'd usually lick over and shine the silvery mark lined down those thin, yet full lips. Lips that made your own quiver – aching to drag him in for a full mouth and tongue kiss to fix that, not caring if teeth collide—

“Wow. You look good—amazing…” Toji’s voice resonated a thick rumble as those naturally, pale green eyes hooded, adventuring all around you a few times before, “Really good... Ah, this melted — I hope you like flowers though.” And he presents you the small vase bundled up in a various color of blooming buds.

Clammy hands reach for them, “Hah, they're lovely. Thank you…”

Toji sucks in hot air through his teeth, still hanging right outside your door… “You all right?” He notices the small pearly beads trailing across your hairline.

“Yeah! Yeah, I'm just–– you look good… I knew you were big but, damn.” Saying that forced a clear connotation to spark up. If he's this big in real life — bigger than what you have already seen online, what you've prepared yourself for mentally, but now connecting the dots, all of those angles and views were shot from his eyes. Now in your personal POV, this was a clear difference… and you couldn't help but think about that monster stuffed between his legs that was appointed and waiting for you to be a lot more than you could fathom...

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

At least, Toji knew you needed prep first. He could just tell…

So to speak, his tongue was steady lapping around in a winding circle against your slit. Already sappy against his mouth, but the wads of spit he bubbles against puffy lips, swoons you blissfully to a faucet…

He didn't mean to shove his tongue so deep, but the natural nectar your pussy gushes with was utterly mouthwatering, he couldn't stop slurping it up! And he didn't mean to cut you off when you finally invited him in, but his cock was also steering the engines – remembering one second your mouth was full with coherent words, telling him how your day was, small talk and giggles about the ice cream, but now, you could only babble out god knows what… Even — faintly, remembering how he pinched and squeezed at your sides when you finally invited him in your room to get things where they needed to be; letting him take a plop down only to get dragged with him closely, quickly enveloping you with his needs and mass…

Time moved quick, even motions and kisses. Hands too. He was not shy… Could say he had a damn set of paws on him.

Hands shaking, Toji laps “Make sure you get a good angle...” And you try hard to record your pussy being eaten raw.

Something Toji asked about, if he could get some real good photos of you both before he goes back to his place… It was fun at first, but shaky hands recording a video is not a good mix. But, you tried…

Toji delved to get to his destination and he made it clear what this was all for. He let you relax and talk for a bit, enjoying your voice now against his skin, now feeling you for the first time — skin to skin, so smooth and gentle, teasing almost for the entirety… but as soon as you hinted you were ready, he spayled out right between knobbly legs he coveted in with a sort of haste…

Whiffing up your aroma, he groans, “Fuck baby…” His mouth opened wide with an inviting seal – a suction, he rolls out his tongue like a dog in heat; shaking his head gently and sliding that slippery tongue back and forth, Toji keeps hooded eyes on yours. Watching how you looked up into the clouds as heat pressed between your legs.

“Taste so good. I knew you would,” Toji pops your puffy clit in his mouth, sucking with a hard pull ‘till it bobbled out — swollen now.

“Gotta open you up, pretty pussy is so tight.” Mark his words, a digit teases your entrance, handling your quiver; he toys at your little hole, circling and flicking ‘till he could nudge in tight walls.

Hooking soon as gummy walls expand— suck him in, “Greedy girl.” Toji prods against the puffy mounds of your cunt.

Hot mouth raking against the length that he spreads with working hands, he bumps and curls another finger in. Nuzzling deep, his nose suffocates against your pelvis when he plows in, hands doing just the same.

Feeling the older man press around to play at spongy walls, you couldn't help but knot a free hand through his shaggy hair as the other tightened around his phone… The nimble stretch kicked your feet up. Shivering, sheer incredulity warred across your features; your jaw was agape – totally agape. Nothing but strangled noises left your lustrous lips.

Suckling at pert folds and scissoring spongy walls, Toji worked with eager rolls with the tip of his tongue. Flicking across the pretty underside with deft movements that sent the flesh trembling. Trailing along the curving plumpness, his mouth maps your folds and bits that force your legs to tweeze around his shoulders.

He traces patterns into the lush flesh – no random movements, all meticulously and hard… Riding up your slit, never missing the rhythm that forced a kindled roll in your hips, along the ridges—the drawing, you felt a bold, T. O. J. I. trace out teasingly.

The distinguishing mark of the tittle from the “I” pressed right into your puffy hood. And he curled his tongue just right, the little nub puckered out into a spasm.

A sweet spasm too.

Engorged, your face grew tight. Twisting and turning, your tummy coiled ‘till it sprang up, feeling Toji slosh around in your cunt; bullying your walls to clench with a force until they fluttered open all while keeping a working mouth prodded against your thrumming needs.

“Toji!!” Your back lifts up off from the sheets. A perfect arch, he slides a hand beneath, holding you still while you mush shakey hips into his face, drawing out that high spiking through you and out like a geyser.

Fumbling over thoughts, Toji drowns between the sweet heat of your legs. Letting you glisten down the stubble on his chin. Groaning at the treat you spatter against his tongue, almost making his mouth a damn pool itself, he refreshes himself.

His throat bobs as he swallows you up.

A few languorous seconds, he pulls away sloppily. Saliva and messy juices still pearling in streams was sent pattering down his chin. With much of it staining his face – he didn't mind, he relished it, the nectar taste and how it sort of cooled him off was utterly pleasing…

He grabs the phone, smirking how it fumbled down with you.

Your mouth hangs loose. Limp and tingling all throughout.

Only for the tingles to spark into shots of raw lightning, barred hands travel of your sides, “So perfect baby… You think you're ready now? I think you are..?” Still trying to catch robbed breaths, weak eyes manage to flutter open and seize at the sight of the clamoring coming from below your bodies.

Pupils dilating and now snapped wide, you flinch at the presence of something so immense. Instinctively, the tips of your fingers press into the hard ‘v’ tracing down his pelvis in trepidation.

When the hell did he take that out?!

Like a church bell clanging, it swung low. His cock was heavy, the weight couldn't keep his hard pole up no matter how much blood flowed. When the rough-tough cock throbbed, it was the only time stiff dick meat lifted an inch…

“Heh, don’t get shy on me now.” Toji grabs your hand and swipes it away with a feathery kiss, “I told you not to worry that pretty little head off. That's my job.” And he was doing a damn good job!

“You're already so wet, so it'll slide in easy, m’kay?.. But I got this though. Just in case.” That black bag he brought in now answered your questions. The plastic crumbled as he reached for it – hucking it, a bottle of lube rolled in his palm and popped open.

Shaking it up, he dumps out half the bottle into his already soggy palm. Before shining his prize for you, he plops himself right on your rising tummy. Dammnit! He was teasing you out of your mind! Purely showing off how deep he was about to go…

Adorably nervous, the arousal from Toji tonguing you into oblivion excited those fuming hormones on how good he can work your pussy, but now? With a mammoth cock ready for you next, riled up your very engines…

Knobbily legs spread wide.

Biting at your lower lip, “Reach my guts, Toji.” Your hand dips between naked bodies and grabs a handful of thick cock meat. The oozing lube globbing at his base, you stroked it all the way up to his capped tip. Slathering the thin flesh with a twist.

Oh.

His silvery scar stretches, “Mmhm… Someone's worked up the courage.” He chuckles, carefully watching how you cutely try to wrap him whole into your palm.

Barely working out, but you tried.

… You were… ready — jittering with eager excitement, pussy still dribbling in muck, and a heart ready to throb out your chest again. You wanted— needed him in you, reminding yourself all the times you had to finger your pussy to just mere pictures, to a cock you drooled over digitally all alone with only tinkering thoughts. This was the time to finally fixate on fantasies, though Toji’s size still loomed at the back of your mind as he guided himself between sopping folds, prodding against your little entrance when you deemed his cock to be doused enough…

You suck in a deep breath.

Ready.

Yet, the audacity to whisper, “See, you're a big girl.” While half his body shrouded yours as he prepped himself above you; full mass shadowing over your frame with alluring sature, you toiled.

Blowing out a lust-laden breath. Toji soothes at your thighs, holding them in a firm grasp, and angled himself to mush the rubbery pink tip between the tightness of your quim. Any trepidation you had felt was clearly lost in the pressure of his crown plugging in, disappearing slow and methodically; penetrating you with a groan-inducing rush, a sensation of being gently, and nicely filled with the weight of something greater than you immediately expected.

“Oh fuck...” Almost in unison, his body curls forward while yours expands.

Toji felt hard and swollen inside. Having a well-ready, well-prepared cock that was itching for sexual relief, both of you wanted it. So, letting spongy walls stretch in rough accommodation for it; swelling around the girth of the thick slab of cock as he pushed down, sinking an inch, then two, then three, then… inside in a steady rhythm.

“Atta girl…” Aching. He didn't move fast. No hesitation, no waiting, but no real rush, either. But just a firm push that you could catch the first sight of his cock driving down into the tight, slick seal before knocking back, “Look at that.” As Toji pressed further in, a bump—a thick outline bubbled up at your tummy.

Your eyes almost cross. Trying hard to focus on the log settling in the pit of your softest parts — with fail, your head bobbles into sheets, and throat scars with an endless mewl.

Toji took this chance to sink the rest of his cock in. And as he shimmied his hips forward, he got closer, chest hovering over yours almost stroking gently. You take this chance to wrap your arms around his neck as a safe haven. Clawing red trails to sweep the sauntering man who prowled in inches for a kiss – a hot, fast smack of the mouths, far more forceful than earlier; simply locked into a lustful maw as his cock wormed fully in.

Without preamble. Both of you let the moments to adjust to the feeling of his cock inside of you pass before sodden hurls could play out… It was a euphoric phenomenon that made the walls of your pussy flutter, a grinding touch and a friction-filled push that made nerve endings crackle like an active wire.

Walls flexing and expanding to the hilt, Toji felt much, much bigger inside of you than he did outside. Optics or not, the firm drop of the hips, your stomach muscles curled and promoted what was throbbing, deeply in you.

“So fucking tight.” So tight, Toji had to buck his hips with a little force. The pressure of your walls kept sliding him right out, but staying firm, he glides back in.

Sparking up a rhythm, catching how mewls turned into needy wants, and knitted brows softening up for more. He draws out his hips, slowly letting his dick flop out, but never unplugging you completely; quick with driving his pink head down to keep you filled. Utterly filled, to the hilt.

“Toji–fuck–yes, please… please, fuck me.”

That's all he needed to hear.

Truly ready now.

Toji’s lusty lips pop off from yours as he powered himself forward. The first few thrusts gutted you, practically molding a new shape in your insides. Drilling into you with slick, manipulation, he expands wet barriers with working hips. Mushing the mounds ‘till they snapped around him and sucked him right up.

“Yeah, this what I needed.” His words worked up of mostly groans as he rocked back and forth—even dragging the bed with him… “This is what I was dreaming for...”

Barreling now, each swing roughened up. And each time he shoved himself into your weeping pussy, the bulge followed along your pelvis.

Locking your ankles around his waist, Toji leans up, needing to bend his knees to reach balls deep. Lifting your butt from the sheets, he holds your lower half in the air. All that muscle working, half your body was in his vice — Well, your damn head was in the clouds too… Torso splayed flat, the view of your lifted bottom half was exotic; all you could see was his cock head jackhammering ‘till he couldn't get any further than your perk cervix.

He held you tightly, the pads of his fingers dug deep into the soft flesh of your thighs. Knowing bruises were sure to blossom in the morning… Not only surface level, but each bump trudging through you hit at your sensitive womb.

Hard, fast, and brisk, each motion blending into the next rhythm—a forward swing and a backward pull like a damn pendulum. And he was focused on dragging all inches as he did, filling you out in endless repetitions, sending his cockhead through those clenching depths and right up against your perk cervix.

You didn't think you could breathe now, but as his hands glided to the extent of your legs, spreading them by your ankles. Toji was growling as he brought you further up with him; Holding your hips up, all human instincts replaced by feral needs. Positioning himself tall until he was fucking you like a construction worker drilling out cement, forcing your flimsy, fucked out body to be arranged at a downward angle, chin tucked with knobbly legs kept wide.

The camera was catching it all too! A genius, he thought, placing it right below your jiggling ass to catch all pounding movement… Even catching the flyaways of your sap milking out and slobbing down his length—Hard thigh too! The harder he barreled into you, a thicker shine dribbled between your bodies and blurred up the lens of the phone…

Heavy balls splat down against your ass at each hard plow. Balls deep, deeper than you could imagine—hard to, and your mind ogles and short circuits trying to comprehend this.

Gurgling, your tummy coils again… And this time Toji could feel your walls spasming all the more.

Deep, rolling strokes. Strong hips come in fleshy swings and he forcibly fucks out your high, “Yeah! Fuck baby, cum f’me. Cum all over this dick.” Dream dick to be fair.

That's all you could do, and as your pussy squeezed and clenched, leaking with a glisten, Toji drags your ankles towards your head. Pushing his twisting toes into the sheets, practically flattening his heavy orbs into doughy globes, and jamming all nth inches into you, your sappy cum gushes out all around him.

Electricity coursed along your limbs, waking them up again to wail like a damn fish out the sea and crowd around his chest. Squeezing and pulling taut receptively, and even as you cursed the sensations of bliss through a sloppy tongue, Toji followed.

“You feel so–fucck—!” Through an endless wave of pleasure, he pants.

Sending his cock thundering through your soaked channel. His pace was more pronounced ‘till weak. Mounting you; the tightening of his face, the swelling of his shaft, the throbbing of the balls pressed right against your perk ass, he was ready to explode.

Filling out your elastic folds with almost desperate movements, clearly right on the peak of popping. Toji topples into your mouth and shoves in a few more and final wet claps until he lets out a guttural moan.

“Tojii!—” In sync, you both watch each other, gazing so deeply with mouths agape as his cock hiccups and burps out a fresh load of white cum.

… Did you just fall in love?

Toji wiggles into you, “Take it all.” Carefully observing how you nod, breathless and dazed, he keeps you filled with baby batter—Filling you like a damn pastry!

Your body falls in the wreck as he plants his sweating skin across yours. Heaving heavily, the older, bigger man keeps you close. Keeping you beneath him as his cock pumps, moving like an inching worm through patted soil; and spurting out wads of thick ropes. Gooey warmness seeps in deep, filling up your pussy like a personal pool at each throb he pulsates with.

Though as he seemed to have dumped his whole load, balls now empty and less tightened from the flex of swimming cells. He huddles you close, keeping his dick lodged in you...

"I-wow.." Toji breathes, more of a shakey moan, "That was... you were..." He chuckles.

Swiping the sticking hair out of his face, he observes how you try to also recollect yourself too—a lot more of heavy breathing and gasps come from you... But assured, you pant out a bewildered giggle, "Yeah..."

"Yeah..." He repeats after you, agreeing.

… You feel a buzz on your ass..?

“Damn,” Toji easily lifts you to grab that damn phone he propped up thinking he was some cameraman in the making, “Damn again. Your pussy was leaking so much some got on the camera…” He inspects it, “It'd be hot to see when that happened… but hopefully, not for the majority of this perfect moment...”

You tease, “If then, we could just record another…” And Toji licks at his scar, feeling his cock hardening ‘till it stiffened up rock hard like a mighty pole…

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

[ 🔔 big dick dilf 🫠 1m ago ]

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<– big dick dilf 🫠 > 🎥

Today 4:33 AM

| Can't stop watching our videos 😉

| 🔗 Attachment: Two Videos –> ONE | TWO

| You're so fucking hot.

| Can't stop thinking of that pretty face moaning.

| When are you free again?

Read 8:09 am

Typing… |

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<– BACK: PINNED ⊹ ࣪ ˖ NEXT: MORE TOJI –>

#🌐 𝐿𝒜𝒱𝐼𝐼 𝒲𝑅𝐼𝒯𝐸𝒮! #ᝰ toji fushiguro! #toji smut #jjk x reader #jjk #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen #toji x reader #toji fushiguro #jjk toji #tw belly bulge #tw mindbreak #tw cervix fucking #tw overstimulation #tw age gap #tw size difference

[zephyrchama]

Movie Night with Diavolo and Barbatos

A self-indulgent fic (under the read more) inspired by the The Brothers' Hobbies Devilgram story.

SFW fluff, gender neutral reader, it's like 1.5k words long? I just threw together whatever because I wanted to imagine a cozy movie night.

Very few beings in either of the three realms ever got to witness Diavolo or Barbatos in their pajamas. You were the lucky soul who got to see both as they guided you through the castle for a special movie marathon night. Sweatpants and a loose robe were a nice change of pace from the usual stiff-collared uniforms Diavolo typically wore. He excited donned the dragon slippers you gifted him once. Barbatos had his matching owl slippers on under a slimmer, flowier set of pajamas with matching button-up top and bottoms. The fabric looked incredibly smooth, with not a single wrinkle.

The room they led you to was dimly lit. The curtains were drawn so that starlight couldn’t shine through the windows, in front of which were various stacks of DVDs as tall as you. A plush three-person couch had been placed right in the room’s center, squarely in front of a projector that took up an entire wall. In the back of the room closest to where you all entered was a table piled high with treats. Most of it was an approximation of human world movie snacks, but Barbatos had clearly done his best.

"Are those nachos?" You asked. "Pretzels and popcorn... That's so many toppings... M&Ms!? Really? Are those real?"

Barbatos chuckled. "Indeed. Seeing your face light up was worth all the effort to procure them. Please, take as much as you'd like."

Barbatos and Diavolo went to claim their seats on either side of the couch, but encouraged you to take your time with the food. Diavolo clutched a half dozen blockbuster movies in his hand.

“Will you get a plate for me too? I can’t decide what we should start with.” He hummed and hawed, turning each package over to read their summaries.

By the time you were ready, Diavolo had made a choice and loaded up the movie’s main menu. You carried the heaping plates over with enough food for everyone. They each offered to hold them while you sat down.

There was not a lot of room to sit. Despite seating three, Diavolo could have taken up half of the couch by himself and Barbatos was being unusually liberal with how much space he took up. They happily motioned for you to take a seat, Diavolo grinning like a kid.

You sandwiched yourself between them as best you could, wiggling until your back touched cushions. It felt awkward basically distributing your weight over the side of their laps, but neither one made any outward signs of acknowledgement. It was very warm between the two demons. With your thighs brushing those on either side of you, you could confirm their pajamas really were soft. It was incredibly cozy. They both smelled like a recent shower.

“Ready?” DIavolo asked once you were settled in with your plate. “I thought we’d start with an action film to really kick things off on a high note. Let’s begin!”

The bright film cast a gentle light over the three of you. Every time something exploded or a twist occurred, Diavolo would whoop and laugh. He was a very expressive movie watcher.

“This is rather delicious,” he commented in a low voice after cleaning his plate. Diavolo leaned into your ear, bumping your shoulder with his own.“Mind if I try some of yours?”

“Feel free. Barbatos, you too.” There was plenty left, not to mention the entire table of food. Every few minutes his highness would pluck a chip or handful of chocolates off your plate. You realized shortly before the credits that it should have run out already with the two of you constantly snacking. Was it refilling itself?

You turned to Barbatos. His eyes were already transfixed on you instead of the projector, as if you were the night’s main event. “Is something wrong?”

You pointed to the magic plate. “Are you doing this?”

He merely smiled, neither confirming or denying. You softly nudged him in the side in appreciation as he whispered, “if there’s anything you need, just ask.”

As the action flick finally ended, Diavolo leaned forward to browse through the other movies. “What shall we watch next? Romance? Comedy?” He asked as you took advantage of the extra space to stretch.

“I believe romance and comedy often go together, so we could watch both genres at once,” Barbatos said.

“Oh! What about this? It’s very famous, right?” Diavolo thrust an old horror movie at you. You’d heard the name before and vaguely knew its plot, but never actually saw it.

”Yeah, everyone in the human world knows that movie.”

“Then we’ll go with this!”

He loaded it up, while Barbatos sifted through the pile and pulled out a disk. “Let us put this romance comedy on standby.”

The horror movie was way scarier than you thought. Weren’t old films supposed to have cheesy graphics and a now-overdone plot? This was gory and dark. Barbatos and Diavolo were actually laughing at the chainsaw-wielding maniac on screen. “Hilarious! I thought the comedy was after this?” Diavolo exclaimed. You realized once again that demons were not normal.

You put on a brave face and powered through the movie, intent on not ruining their good time. But a particular jumpscare caught you off-guard, prompting a shriek as you shakily turned away from the movie. That turned all the attention on to you. “Sorry, sorry. Don’t mind me, just surprised me,” you stammered.

“Do you find this scary?” Diavolo asked. “This silly thing?”

Barbatos apologized, saying “I hadn’t considered this could be distressing for you. I’ll turn it off immediately.”

“No, it’s fine! We can keep watching,” you insisted while diverting your eyes from the scene on the screen.

Diavolo grabbed your hand. “Nothing could possibly hurt you when we’re here. Isn’t that right, Barbatos? Why, I dare say you’re with the two strongest men in the whole Devildom. We could stop a thousand of these murderous humans.” His lighthearted smile was reassuring as always as he belted out another laugh.

“Would it help if we held your hands?” Barbatos suggested. It was a childish recommendation, but tempting nonetheless. “We could even lock arms, and if the film becomes too much, you can rely on one of us to block it out for you.”

That sounded agreeable, and you approved of it just to get their attention back to the movie. You were thankful the two self-professed strongest demons in the realm would be so accommodating for you. Though embarrassing at first, it did help to bury your head in one of their sides any time things got too horrific.

Any time you jumped towards Diavolo, he would wrap his arm around your shoulders and bring you in closer for a comforting side hug. He’d make small comments, “this actor is very good, does he have any other famous works? I wonder if they filmed this on a set,” so you could focus on the sound of his voice instead of the televised screams.

Any time you jumped towards Barbatos, he would cover your ears and bring your forehead against his chest. It helped to focus on the calm, steady beating of his heart until the scene ended. One hand would gently brush through your hair and down your back until you were composed again.

This film was thankfully shorter than the first one. As you excused yourself to the restroom, you heard Diavolo comment about how it was “too short,” with Barbatos agreeing it was “more fun than expected.” You hoped they really meant the movie, and not the way you acted.

Upon returning, Barbatos had prepared a large fluffy blanket.

“It’s getting quite late, and as you know the Devildom gets rather cold at night.”

You doubted you could get cold while wedged between these two on a sofa. Though, It did add to the movie viewing experience.

The third movie was, as expected, much lighter and more enjoyable. You could laugh along with them and at times explain aspects of human culture important to the plot. 

“If she doesn’t want her ex to show up, why doesn’t she just cast a warding spell? Such an easy solution.”

“Humans usually can’t cast magic. Until I got here, I didn’t even know magic was real.”

”Oh! Right.”

Maybe it was all the food, or the addition of the blanket, or the overall coziness of the situation. Your eyelids were starting to get heavy and interest in the film was waning. “Hey, I know we’re only on the third movie, but how many of these are we watching tonight?”

Diavolo stared at you. “As many as we can! We have all those.” He gestured to the massive collection by the windows.

”My lord, some will have to wait until next week.”

“Right, but the night is still young!”

You were at a loss for words. It had been five hours so far. “I don’t… Uh… I’ll try my best, but like, I don’t know if I can stay up that long,” you admitted. Did these two ever even sleep? They were in pajamas, so maybe?

“That is a problem.” Barbatos seemed troubled, unable to think of a solution that didn’t involve delaying their schedule.

“Well, let’s just keep going,” Diavolo offered. “It can’t be helped if you’re tired, but we can still get through what we can. I greatly enjoy having you here! Both as a friend and to clarify what’s happening.” He ruffled your hair before turning his eyes back to the screen.

Before you realized it, you were waking up from a snug slumber. You don’t remember falling asleep, only that you guys had finished the romantic comedy and started on something sci-fi with robots.

On the screen now was a documentary about birds.

“Oh, awake now? This movie’s getting really good, I think you’ll like it.” You were more focused on how nonchalant Lord Diavolo was acting about being your pillow. You quickly and apologetically lifted your head from his lap.

Barbatos had apparently moved you into a more comfortable position while you slept, as the lower half of your body was in his lap as well. He helped you sit up, “careful not to fall now. But yes, this film is most fascinating. Can I get you anything? Some water?”

There were half a dozen questions running through your mind, but the first one out was “what time is it?”

“6:15am, nearly time for the Young Master to begin his day.”

DIavolo huffed. He couldn’t fight the looming workload he had to deal with, so he popped a potato chip into his mouth instead. Despite your insistence that you would sit normally, the two of them equally insisted you lay down and stay comfortable for the remainder of the documentary. It was peaceful.

When all was done, Barbatos procured everyone a change of clothes and started wrapping up the food table. First pick of leftovers went to you. “Would you like to take it all?” he asked.

“Don’t think I can finish all that, but Beel can help me.”

Diavolo went to change in the other room, but called out, “There's still so much we have to watch, and I'd like to go back over the ones you missed! What do you say, same plans for next week? Same day, same time?”

That sounded good to you.

---

(Thanks for reading!) (bonus pic I wanted to put in the text but didn't want to interrupt the story)

#obey me #obey me! #obey me x mc #obey me fanfic #omswd #omswd fanfic #obey me nightbringer #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me diavolo x you #diavolo x reader #barbatos x reader #obey me barbatos x reader #obey me barbatos x mc #obey me diavolo x mc #obey me fluff #obey me x reader #omswd diavolo #omswd barbatos #om! diavolo #om! barbatos #obey me fanfiction #obey me scenarios

[tojivu]

Hey love, can i request the jjk men (or just Gojo tbh) taking care of their SO after giving birth? That would be suuuper sweet and thank you💙💙

father and husband ⋆ gojo satoru

gojo takes care of you after giving birth + other hcs

an. i'm not done with the long ass gojo fic so i'm finishing this draft first. sorry i do not know much about birth i am a teenager writing fanfiction after all...... my google search history might make my parents think i'm pregnant

cw. sfw, f!reader, not proofread, mentions of female anatomy, suggestive jokes at the end

playing. 17 by pink sweat$, ft. joshua and dk of seventeen.

"this is so unfair, 'toru."

the thick sheets the private hospital provided you with restrained you from sitting up. sunlight pours into the room through the spaces in the blinds — the ward is awfully quiet, much unlike your expectations.

"huh?"

you turn your head towards the leather chair situated next to your bed. it's a pale beige, clashing with the various blues this hospital decorates itself with — and with the white hair of the man you call your husband.

his hair falls messily onto the material. you furrow your eyebrows and wonder what has gotten into him; he's been much quieter than usual. this was not typical satoru behaviour.

your newborn baby was getting examined and you were told it would take a bit. your family wouldn't be coming down till tomorrow morning — something you didn't mind because you were so sure satoru, your loving husband, was just as prepared as you are for the birth.

"he's got your eyes," you mutter. the anxiety was really starting to kick in now; satoru was never this quiet. ever. your attempts at making conversation echo, and it's eerie how you could forget satoru was even here if you just closed your eyes. "satoru?"

you swear you see a thick bead of sweat roll down his temple. he sits cautiously, as if he is ready to spring up into action any moment now.

"i'm so scared, [name]." gojo's voice trembles and it bounces off the walls; you feel your heart skip a beat, only to pound harder the next.

SATORU starts bawling when he gets to hold his baby after the discharge. tears run down his face like two waterfalls, staining his sweatshirt. your baby looks at him with the most curious eyes, before shutting them and returning to a deep sleep.

he holds your son as if he's fragile glass, grip firm and careful not to slip — your fingers wipe the tears pooling at his waterline and gojo can't help but look at you with absolute adoration.

"please stop crying, 'toru," you smile up at the crybaby you call your husband. "you can't drive with tears in your eyes."

he tries to speak but nothing comes out. gojo's voice cracks before saying anything and he only manages to nod, handing the baby back to you.

SATORU who makes sure to help you with whatever you need, you just need to order him around. he's just as new to this parenting thing as you are, given you are the only woman he's ever loved — patience is needed with him as much as it's needed with you.

for example: satoru would never complain about waking up early in the morning to feed your son. he'd spring out of bed, nervous yet oddly confident. he was afraid of not being fatherly enough — so, this was a wonderful start. he was extremely elated when you asked him to do such a duty the night prior.

he slips out of the sheets and sees your peaceful face, lips parted and letting out small snores; gojo knew you needed the rest after all the sleepless nights.

"good morning," satoru's softly cooing at your son, careful arms scooping him up into his chest and out of the baby blue crib (that coincidentally matches both their eyes). your son only cries in response, much to satoru's displeasure.

your husband can't help but smile down at his child, before glancing over at you a few feet away; comfortably wrapped in your shared blanket.

"mama's asleep, so you're stuck with me." he mimics a pout, but words could not describe how happy he was. your son could only stare blankly at him, giggling when he presses a gentle kiss on his forehead. "sorry, not sorry."

although the baby doesn't bond with your husband that well (yet), his determination is unwavering. he makes sure to be nearby the bedroom — but not too far away, in case something goes wrong — so his cries don't wake you.

all goes well until gojo changes your son's diaper an hour later and gets pee all over his hands, that he rushes into your bedroom for help.

"[name], baby," he bites his lip out of worry, opening the door with his dry hand and calling for you. "he peed on me—"

you give him a thank you kiss for trying anyway.

SATORU who rubs your shoulders for you, or really any other body part ever — he's a weirdly good masseuse. you often find yourself falling asleep on the couch as he kneads your pains away.

"baby," he whispers.

you three were on the couch, watching a movie in the late evening. your groans don't go unnoticed, and he knows you've been holding your baby for quite some time in hopes of calming him down.

"psst, baby." satoru repeats, the arm around your shoulder tapping the flesh of yours. "aren't you tired?"

"a little," you sigh. "he might wake up if i put him down."

"nah," satoru caresses your shoulder gently. "put him down for a minute. i'll help."

"help?"

"did you know i give really good massages?" satoru smirks, "your husband's crazy talented, i know."

you raise an eyebrow. you've never heard of gojo satoru massaging people — you're a little skeptical, but put down your son in the bassinet next to the couch nonetheless.

the ache in your shoulder and back were a little too intense to bear, now. satoru could tell with the way you were shifting around in your position every 5 minutes.

well, all your doubt washes away almost as fast as it came — you find yourself knocked out on the couch for the next hour, your head against satoru's shoulder.

SATORU who makes sure to give you extra kisses and extra hugs during this period of change.

he understands how difficult it must be for you — although maybe not to the full extent, considering he doesn't have a uterus — but he wants to try, and try he does.

whenever you have baby blues, he's always there. he kisses the tears off your cheeks, wiping them away with his thumb and whispering soft praises in your ears.

satoru couldn't express how grateful he is to you for giving him a son to love, to raise with you. he can only attempt to say it in words and through kisses, although he feels that may never be enough.

"i-i'm sorry for waking you, 'toru," you sniffle, even if your body language screams the opposite — your head is buried in satoru's chest and he has his hands running through your hair.

"shh, it's okay baby — don't be sorry," he holds your body close to him with his other hand, tracing circles onto the thin fabric of your clothes. "i'm here."

other times, you break down while trying to take care of your son — sometimes the cries get too loud and overwhelming, and everything you do just seems to make it worse.

satoru hears your crying and he immediately rushes over (if he wasn't already in the room with you), taking your son from your hands and trying to calm him down himself. he'll press a kiss onto your forehead, using his free hand to wipe your tears away — and he'll tell you to let him take over.

"shit," he swears under his breath, rushing into the room and seeing your tear-stained face; satoru instinctively reaches for the baby and you hand him over. "let me do it, okay?"

you nod, desperately wiping your face with the sleeves of your hoodie — before satoru uses his right hand to wipe them for you, his lips planted on your forehead.

"i'm s-sorry," you mutter, feeling a little better when you feel the skin of your husband on yours. "i don't know what to do—"

"it's okay, baby," he smiles, tucking stray hairs behind your ears as you continue to calm yourself down; your baby is still crying, and satoru looks oddly calm as opposed to you. "let me take over for a bit."

sure, he gets overwhelmed sometimes; but he needs to be your glue in case you can't pull yourself together. even if he's clueless too, he has to be strong for you — he can imagine the chaos that would ensue if he wasn't.

when he puts the baby to sleep half an hour later, he returns to the bedroom to find you in bed: wrapped in a blanket with tissues in your hands.

satoru feels his heart break at the sight.

he climbs into bed with you and his arms find purchase on your waist, pulling you closer to him; his warmth feels like the medicine you've been needing this entire time, and it's almost as if all your anxiety dissipates.

"you did good today," his cold breath tickles the back of your neck, and you feel his nose bump at your nape. "i'm proud of you."

"it was all you this time," you reply in a hushed voice, throat hurting at the tears you were trying to keep in. "i don't know what i'd do—"

"no," satoru interrupts you. "i couldn't feed the baby this morning, and you did it instead — remember?"

"i remember. you knocked over the formula."

"mhm," satoru hums, his fingers intertwining with yours. "and you did it in only 2 minutes. you're too good at this baby thing, [name]."

"you don't seem so scared anymore, satoru."

you hear a laugh escape from your husband's lips. "thanks to you," and he's pressing kisses along the outline of your shoulder and neck. "i'm the strongest, after all — what can i not do?"

"you're the cockiest, too," you snicker, and you only earn a dramatic gasp from the man behind you.

"don't talk about cock with me right now."

your jaw drops slightly, before you flip your body over to face satoru's direction: he has an annoying smirk painted on his face. "you are so disgusting, satoru."

"you know you love me—" and just as satoru's leaning in for a kiss on the lips, cries from the nursery room erupt.

"man."

writers block is real i think

#tojivu ° ᡣ𐭩 . ° . #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #gojo satoru

[liliannadelaphinehartifelt]

Alastor - [ DEVOTION Pt. 4 ]

xxxxxx xxxxxxx xxxxx xxxxxx xxxxxxx xxxx

A/N: This is all angst and fluff because I'm working on two other smut fics. Please accept this impromptu filler chapter for now (I'm sorry ❤️). I hope you enjoy it anyway.

WARNINGS: [ SFW ] + [ SLIGHTLY MATURE THEMES ] + [ FLUFF ] + [ ANGST ]

xxxxxx xxxxxxx xxxxx xxxxxx xxxxxxx xxxx

You waited patiently for Alastor, standing at the window, admiring the fading moon as the sun's rays gradually inked the sky. It’d been a longer night than you imagined, but you felt energized rather than overtly exhausted.

You supposed that's what having a child felt like: tiring but never lacking excitement. A smile crept onto your face at the thought, heart racing at the image of a small hand wrapping around your finger and the possible jingle of childish laughter following the gesture. It was all you could think about.

Would they resemble you or Alastor more?

A boy or maybe a girl?

Twins?… Oh, twins would be so extraordinary but troublesome!

Oh, who am I to complain… they'd be just as lovely as Alastor.

You jumped from one thought to the next, unable to keep track of your puzzling emotions but deciding your only concern should be the present. With a steadying breath, you gazed around the room, searching for something to do or a task to occupy yourself with since sleep failed you. The room was spotless besides your belongings, which you'd already reorganized after stealing one of Alastors dress shirts to replace your blood-stained nightgown. There was a bookshelf full of various stories tucked into a corner near an old rocking chair, and the idea of reading to relax didn't seem terrible.

“A good story can be grand entertainment…”

Your father coined the phrase and always followed it with an unbelievable bedtime reading. Those nights filled with his storytelling were your fondest childhood memories, and you considered passing the sentiment onto your child. You imagined Alastor more prone to telling bedtime stories; he had the charisma, the soothing voice for it, and you had no doubt they'd become attached to him doing so.

Your smile grew wider, getting ahead of itself as you waltzed over to the tall mahogany bookshelf. “Hm…what shall we read, little one?” you placed a hand on your stomach, gently rubbing circles against it as your other grazed the worn book spines. Each title caught your eye, all ranging in subject but consistent with what Alastor told you about his mother's efforts to advance his literacy.

“Some might say she willed proper speech out of me, but I wouldn't be where I am now without such vigorous practice…”

He was far from wrong; your father had educated you similarly, claiming that despite young women of the time being expected to rely on their beauty, you'd advance farther with brains.

“Let's see..” you mumbled aloud, reading a few titles to narrow your decision, “…perhaps Penny Dreadful? No, The Grim Brothers Tales’?..” A soft giggle left your lips as you considered how ridiculous you sounded speaking aloud, but it couldn't be helped. You were longing to talk, to shout with joy, but resisted the urge in fear of causing a minor disturbance.

Finally, a book held your attention, not as worn as the others but fairly withered. “Alice in Wonderland shall do.” You pricked it from the shelf, sitting in the rocking chair while opening its front cover. The words on each page were familiar, immersive as intended, and for a few quiet moments, you thought of nothing but its premise as you whispered nonsensical sentences in their written order.

Time passed quicker than you thought; by the third chapter, you heard the bedroom door creak open, and in stepped a refreshed Alastor. You beamed a coy smile his way as he shut the door behind him, returning your smile with tired eyes while walking over to you, “Mornin’ darlin’..”

“Good morning, mon cher. You look much better.” you muse as he leans down to kiss your head, “Thank you, sweetheart. Once I get some rest, I might feel better as well.” He doesn't stand up fully, content with being at eye level with you to converse, and you unconsciously blush from the intensity of his gaze. Strands of his hair were curled into its natural waves, dripping with tiny water droplets, slithering down his mocha skin with every breath he took. It was a miracle his glasses didn't fog up, resting neatly on his face and doing nothing but accentuating his piercing brown eyes.

You could get lost in his stare; that ocean of amber took your breath away effortlessly, and you wondered if the trait would pass on to your child.

Indeed, it would… surely he'd love it.

A lump formed in your throat as anxious excitement built in your chest. You needed to tell him calmly, but the longer you waited, the more you wanted to hide away.

Did he want this?

“I’d love you and our child more than anything…”

He'd said it himself, but it was hard for you to deny that Alastor was very vague with his genuine emotions. Even as his wife, you found him hard to read

There was only one way for you to find out, and stalling wouldn't solve anything. Alastor studied your expression as you thought, perceptive to the minor changes in your mood, “My dear, are you alright?” he asked firmly. You perk up, nodding slowly while clutching the book to your chest, “I-Im, I'm fine... It's just that I have to tell you something rather delicate..”

Alastor raised a brow, watching as you bit your lip and stared at your lap, “The news you alluded to earlier this evening?” His eyes narrow, glinting with prowess as he ponders the possibilities of your announcement.

With a heavy sigh, you nod again, shutting the book before placing it in your lap, gripping it tight with one hand as the other instinctively rests on your stomach. You feel his gaze shift from your face, fixated on your abdomen, as you stumble out an explanation.

“I. Well, I'm… “ you cut yourself off when words fail, reaching for his hand gently, placing it over your own as a nervous smile adorns your face.

Oh…does she mean to say?…

Alastor froze as the warmth of your skin settled against his palm, rising and falling in a gentle pattern as you willed yourself to breathe normally while gauging his reaction. His shadows quivered in the darkness of the room, able to hear two faint heartbeats underneath the drum of your own, and the definitive sound brought a grin to his face.

It seems she's given us exactly what we hoped for. Twice the yield as well.

How delightful.

Alastor knelt before you, placing both hands on your stomach, eyes soft with affection as he finally voiced his thoughts.

“My darling wife is going to be a mother..” pride laced his tone as he averted his gaze to yours, grin ever present as you nodded excitedly with a bright smile, “And you're going to be father..” you whisper.

Your words drifted quietly in the air, sinking into Alastor’s consciousness and stirring his specters into a giddy frenzy.

My wife is having my children…

Mine and only mine.

A laugh rippled in his chest as the possessive thought invaded his mind, growing stronger as he heard your delighted giggles join his. “Come here, darlin’…” Alastor lifted you with one gentle tug on your wrists, catching you in his arms as your feet hovered off the ground. “Alastor!” you yelped excitedly, smiling so hard your cheeks hurt and laughing more as he pecked your lips tenderly. You hummed into the passionate kiss, arms locking around his neck as you kicked a foot up gingerly. He tasted like mint, calm, and refreshing. A welcomed contrast to the waning heat you felt as your nerves winded down.

He was pleased to know, which filled your heart with relief.

——- ——- ———

“Oh, my stars! Al! Y/n! I'm overjoyed for you both!” Rosie shot up from her seat, dress flowing as she glided around the coffee table to squeeze you in a tight hug as you set out the platter of sweets you'd finished baking moments ago. “Thank you, Rosie. I still can't believe it myself,” you blushed as she squealed, drawing back a bit to cup your face with both hands; her eyes sparkled with admiration as she looked between you and Alastor -who sat comfortably in an armchair. He hadn't stopped grinning since your return home from the countryside, rambling on and on to his mother about the news until the last minute, and he insisted on telling Rosie as soon as you stepped foot in New Orleans again. She was his long-time friend, after all, yours as well, by extension, and so you didn't mind revealing the news to her. Just as his mother felt like your own, Rosie filled the space of an older sister for you. She was energetic, fashionable, and constantly aware of everyone's lives.

She was a true gossip girl, but you enjoyed her company more than others.

“Al, you devil! You could've waited another year to knock my dearest friend up! Now, who will I take out on the town?..” She huffed dramatically but couldn't hold her frown as you giggled softly while he waved a hand dismissively. “I'm sure you'll survive, my dear.” he quips. Rosie rolls her eyes, returning his nonchalant gesture with an equally smug smirk, “I suppose you're right. Although, my nights out won't be as thrilling anymore with you gone being a new father and such, Al.”

He sat straighter. You happened to catch the slightest frown on his face at Rosie’s comment, but it vanished when he felt your eyes on him. “I'll accompany you on occasion when time allows it.” His response is politely chaste, and one might deem it disappointing.

Was he bothered by the notion of having less time with Rosie?

You knew they ventured to socialite parties together regularly, something they'd done long before you married him, but you never questioned it since Rosie assured you it was their fun hobby. Still, you felt concerned that Alastor could regret the idea of children if it meant a less spontaneous party going with his oldest friend.

You opened your mouth to say something, stepping towards where he sat, but Rosie grabbed your hands and whisked you away to sit on the plush sofa with her. “We must discuss everything Y/n. Having a child is no small feat, and I know Al won't spare any expense.” She grinned, squeezing your hands gently, and you smiled back at her before sparing your husband a curious glance. “He spoils me too much already, so I think he'll naturally do the same for the baby,” a soft laugh floated from you, and he tipped his head reassuringly while pulling out his pocket watch to check the time. “Whatever their little heart desires, I shall give,” he replies calmly, standing to his feet and gazing between you and Rosie. “It's about time I head on over to the station. I don't suppose you’ll be leaving anytime soon, Rosie?”

You checked the grandfather clock that stood against the adjacent wall, noticing it was nearly time for his broadcast to begin, “Seems we lost track of time.” you smiled apologetically at Alastor. He shook his head while chuckling, “It's not your fault, darling. I got caught up listening to this one ramble,” he gestured to Rosie before walking over to the parlor room coat stand. He pricked his preferred overcoat, slipping it on quickly as she glared at his back. “Is that any way to speak of your child’s future honorary aunt and godmother!” she faked a skeptical look to which you feigned concern, “Oh, my dear Rosie, he didn't mean it, I swear!”

Alastor turned on his heel, biting back a more comprehensive smile as he admired the two of you carrying on, “I will not apologize for telling the truth, ma chère, but Rosie does have the privilege of godmother so that for I will ask for her forgiveness.” he stood behind the sofa, leaning down a bit to kiss you once then twice before pulling away with a content hum.

Rosie watched the sweet exchange, able to separate the manic version of Alastor she killed from the doting husband he was in your presence, proud to see him so controlled and happy. He pulled away from you, adoring the glimmer in your eyes as you reached a hand up to adjust his glasses, “I love you,” you whisper, and he blanks for a moment, hearing the endearing phrase.

Love…is that what this is?…

Would it be so wrong to say it back?…

A flash of vulnerability crosses Alastor’s face, and you're tempted to take your words back, but he beats you to speak. “Je t'aime aussi..” he mutters back, stepping away to bid Rosie a proper goodbye, “Take good care of her while I'm gone.” he kisses her cheek, and she swats his arm, “Oh, you know I will. Now run along before you're late!” He heads to her, scolding her out the door in seconds, leaving you in her company.

“I thought he'd never leave,” Rosie chirps, glad to have some privacy to speak with you and eager to get down to the details you had to tell. “Tell me, how do you feel, honey? I know this all might be terrifying you…” she spoke softly, pricking a freshly baked cookie from the platter you set out, and you nodded timidly in agreement while fidgeting with your hands.

“I'm scared, yes, but not of being a mother. You know I've always wanted to be one. It was my biggest dream when I came of age, and I'm glad it's coming true with Al..” You rested a hand on your stomach, feeling it flip at the mention of him, and luckily, no urge to throw up followed.

Thank goodness for Angelique and her tonics!

She'd given you a case of vials to take home, all containing a special brew made by her hand, and she'd given you a strict regimen for consuming them.

“Drink two of these twice daily, morning and evening, but only take it after you've eaten. Have Alastor phone me when you need more..”

Whatever was given had a wonderous effect on your mood, reduced your fatigue, and calmed your nerves. You were grateful for her assistance, but not everything you felt could be cured with medicine.

You hoped Rosie would understand, could help calm what the tonics couldn't, so as she peered at you curiously and asked, “What's the matter, dearest?” you inevitably blurted out your worst and only fear.

“I'm afraid of how Alastor will be as a father..”

She blinked, taken aback by your confession, but it didn't show on her face. “May I ask why?”

You hesitated, fidgeting with your hands again as you thought of what to say, but Rosie rested a hand on yours to still them in a gentle grip. “Y/n, it's alright, be honest. He may have been my closest companion initially, but you are my truest friend in this moment. I'm here to listen, not to criticize. He won't hear a word of it, I swear.”

You glanced between your conjoined hands and her kind smile, and after debating whether or not to spill your heart out, you decided it wouldn't hurt to express your doubts.

You could trust Rosie. Right?…

“Well, I know he wants children. He recently told me so, but it's how he'll receive them. Alastor is a complex man, we both know that, but I fear that complexity will make it hard for him to…to..” you tried to phrase the last of your concerns gently, unsure if what you said made any sense to her, but Rosie merely smiled before finishing the thought for you.

“You're afraid he won't show them love?..”

You nod, heart clenching at the thought, “Yes. I know how his childhood went; I was there through it all, so I know his father wasn't the best man. I know what he put his mother through and Alastor hates the idea of becoming like him..”

You forced yourself to take a deep breath, beginning to tear up as memories of Alastor coming to you in the dead of night, bruised and battered but stoic as ever as he asked to sleep next to you in your bed. He'd never tell you what happened, where his father was, or if he'd been majorly injured. You'd have to coax information out of him, promise him that you'd never betray his safety, or tell your father what went on in his family. Then and only then would he relax, let you mend his scars before huddling under the thick covers with you, and though you were both exhausted, you'd whisper stories aloud to each other until the sun peeked through the trees.

It felt odd to wish for times like that to return; they all resorted from darker places, but it brought you two closer. You were able to understand Alastor to an extent most speculated of. With all the insight into his life, you hoped the irrational fears you felt would wither away, but after the incident at his mother's, they just worsened.

It felt as if he were hiding something from you.

At first, the notion piqued your curiosity, but now it ate away at your conscience.

What was he withholding from you, and did you need or want to know more?

Logic voted ‘yes,’ but your trusting nature leaned towards ‘no.’

“He won't ever be like him. I'm sure, but he's only recently expressed he cares for me. Truly loves me, so I suppose I'm afraid of that same affection not being openly expressed to our little one as well.”

Rosie nodded, scooting closer and giving you a tight side hug to calm your frazzled state. “My dear, you have every right to fear such a thing. However, if I may vouch for Alastor, I do believe his softer side will show itself for your child.” You peered at her, hope in your eyes, “Really? You think so?..”

She grins, “I am certain of it! He cherishes you like no other! Unlike my husband, yours is a dime and a man who'd kill for you if necessary.”

You blush, surprised by her claim, “I don't think he'd kill for me, Rosie, but I understand the sentiment.” She scoffs, hand rubbing your shoulders, and retorts, “Yes, he would, and he'd show the same devotion to your bundle of joy.”

Her statement soothed your worries, but the seriousness in her tone made your heart skip a beat.

It felt as though she did know he'd kill for you…kill for your child.

A shiver racked your body at the thought.

I hope it never comes to that…

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What do you guys think of the story so far? I'm just curious to hear your thoughts and theories.❤️

[ BONUS CONTENT + ]

He may be a monster, but at least he's dedicated to it; morally grey, but honest to his silly little murderous behaviors ❤️ credits to the creator

#Spotify #alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #human alastor #alastor hartfelt #alastor headcanons #alastor fluff #hazbin hotel headcanon #alastor smut #hazbin alastor #alastor x oc #alastor x reader #credit to artist #alastor the radio demon #the radio demon #angst #alastor fanfiction #hazbin hotel fluff #hazbin hotel fandom #hazbin hotel fanfiction #fanfic writing #fanfic #alastor x you #fluff #french #alastor human #alastor hazbin x reader #alastor x y/n

[sister-lucifer]

Take Your Breath Away 

Ticci Toby x Gender Neutral Reader 

Genre: Smut 

Summary: Toby is a nasty son of a bitch and pulls a terrifying trick on you 

Content/Warnings: Nonconsensual breath play (the sex is consensual, the suffocation is not), bondage, Toby is a mean and nasty motherfucker, Reader almost passes out, homicidal undertones, a wee bit of degradation, listen it’s one of MY toby fics i feel like that’s a warning in and of itself, no genitalia specified for Reader, Reader and Toby are already in a relationship 

Like my writing? I take requests! NSFW or SFW for any fandoms in my bio (request rules + masterlist in pinned post)!

Also, please reblog! it’s free, takes two seconds, and really helps me out 

Feedback is encouraged and appreciated:)

Not fully proofread! Let me know if you see any errors!

A/N: Just to avoid confusion, in my headcanon Toby has a stutter as well as but separate from his tourette’s; i’m writing his stutter, not his tics! thankies!

It was no secret to you that Toby had some…odd “interests”. It wasn’t a secret to anyone, really. You could probably guess it just by looking at him. However, for the most part he’d been rather proficient at practicing restraint. Of course, that’s not to say he didn’t stare when you weren’t looking, and he certainly let his twitchy hands linger over your neck for a bit too long when he pulled you in. Maybe you should have kept a closer eye on him, but after getting so used to his unusual demeanor it was easy to simply brush it off. You noticed him staring throughout the day, sure, and you were definitely a bit put off when he refused to let you pull away from a kiss that had gone on for much too long, giggling to himself as you fought to catch your breath. 

You really should’ve at least wondered what was up when he silently walked up behind you while you were at the counter, wrapping a strong hand around your neck without warning. You could feel him grinning against your neck as he greeted you with a hushed laugh that made you shiver. He let go when you managed choke out his name, pulling you into him by the waist as if nothing had happened. You were naturally perplexed when he walked away, but he didn’t seem to think anything of it. Why should you?

He was playful, that was all, you thought. He was mischievous and liked to push his limits to see how you’d react; it was how he learned, seeing as he was never quite in tune with social cues. It was all in good fun, you figured, even if it had been a bit startling. 

Despite what you told yourself, there was no denying the malicious glint in his eyes when he posed you a jarring question: 

“Would you l-let me tie you up?” 

You stood quickly from where you were crouched, busy rummaging through a cabinet until Toby had violently grabbed your attention. It was out of the blue, completely unprompted, enough to have you staring at him slack-jawed in stunned silence. When you couldn’t conjure a response fast enough, he repeated his question.

“Would you let me t-tie you up?” 

“W…What?” 

You tilted your head in confusion, trying to wrap your mind around what could have possibly brought him to this thought. 

“Just say yes or no: If I wanted t-to tie you up, would you let me?” 

You struggled for a few moments more, your face beginning to feel unbearably hot. 

“I mean…I— I guess? Sure?” You replied, your eyes nervously scanning Toby’s face in an attempt to ascertain anything about what he could possibly be thinking. 

“Good, thanks.” He replied curtly before turning on his heel and leaving the room. 

He left you standing alone, completely dumbfounded. When he didn’t return and you couldn’t form the foggiest idea of what had just happened, you sighed in defeat and returned to your task. You couldn’t really complain; you knew what you were signing up for with Toby. 

Well…you sort of knew. 

He was certainly a wild card. You’d think you’d have learned to expect the unexpected by now. 

It took only a couple days for Toby to bring the topic up again, this time practically cornering you in your bedroom. You always felt small around Toby with his six foot four towering frame, but you felt particularly vulnerable when he has that hungry look in his eyes he always got when he really, really wanted something. 

“I’ve g-got a surprise for yooouuu!” He announced, one hand behind his back to conceal whatever it was he was so excited about. “Lay down on your stomach. Quickly.” 

You almost hesitated, but you were so morbidly curious you simply had to know what he was hiding. You didn’t take your eyes off of him, though. 

You laid down on the bed and rested your head on your arms, watching as Toby climbed on top of you to straddle your waist. You winced when he roughly pulled your arms behind you, quickly binding them together with the rope he’d been hiding behind his back. He gave one last tug to the bindings to test them, then sat back to admire his work.

“Looks g-good on you…” He muttered, and you’d be ashamed to admit it made you a bit flustered. 

He turned you over, and you were immediately greeted with the sight of his crooked smile spread wide across his face. You tried to return it, but something about it was deeply unsettling. You shuddered under the unblinking, unrelenting gaze of his dark hazel eyes. 

Really, what did you have to be so nervous about? You really couldn’t shake the feeling that he was planning something, but that was irrational. You trusted Toby, didn’t you? 

You did, of course. It was silly to even consider otherwise. 

You happily kissed him back when he leaned down over you. He pulled away from the kiss slowly, and for a split second you caught that dark swirl of something sinister in his eyes, but it was gone just as quickly as it appeared. 

It was as if locking eyes with him put you in a trance, and it felt like only a few seconds had passed between that quiet kiss and the scene of debauchery that was unfolding now. 

Toby has you in his lap, his heaving chest against your back. His jittery hands have an iron grip on your hips, effortlessly bouncing you on his cock as if you weighed nothing. His heavy breath fans over your glistening skin and makes you shiver with delight. 

“S-Sooo tight—“ He whispers to you with a shuddering voice. He certainly isn’t worrying about hiding his voice, more than content to pant and moan in your ear without any ounce of shame. Your hands strain against your bindings as you struggle to keep it together. It felt like every time he thrusted up into up into you he hit even deeper than before, leaving no spot untouched. 

“You okay there, p-pretty thing?” Toby asks over your shoulder. You manage a nod and a weak hum in response, but any attempt at words would melt into a pitiful noise of desperation. 

Toby absolutely adores seeing you like this. It gives him such a wonderful rush of confidence to hold such power over you, the power to reduce you to a trembling mess with his bare hands. The best part, though, was how willingly you allowed him to abuse that power. 

You were the perfect plaything, hardly every questioning anything he did, at least not out loud. You were completely pliant in your own destruction, even if you hadn’t been made aware of it just yet. 

He adjusts you in his hold, allowing him to slowly trail one hand up your body. His fingers drum against your sides in a fidgety manner as they ghost over your skin. You don’t notice what he’s doing until you feel him stroke your cheek with the back of his hand. 

“Deep breaths, sweet thing, d-deep breaths…” 

The words should be reassuring, relaxing even, but something threatening has creeped into his voice and is practically spilling through his toothy grin. You lock eyes with him for a brief second, holding back a gasp when you see the unmistakable darkness swirling in his eyes. 

Suddenly a freakishly strong hand clamps over your nose and mouth, holding tight and immediately making your heart drop. Your air supply has been effectively cut off in an instant. Your first instinct is to fight Toby’s unfaltering hold, but you quickly find it to be pointless. 

“Don’t fight it, d-don’t fight…” Toby mumbles against your neck. “You’ll only t-tire yourself out…” 

He hasn’t even stopped thrusting into you, seemingly taking enjoyment in watching you squirm in distress when you both know there’s nothing you can do. Each thrust knocks a bit more air out of you, and you can already feel yourself becoming dizzy. 

As you slowly lose the strength to fight, Toby only becomes more and more enthusiastic. 

“Ahah…y-you’re so cute like this. I wonder if I-I can make you cum before you pass out…you think you can manage that?” 

You hardly process his words, but whether or not you heard him doesn’t matter; you can’t so much as nod or shake your head in reply. Toby doesn’t need a response, though. He’s more than content to listen to himself talk. 

“Y-You know I could never kill you, right?” Toby asks, but the question is not reassuring in the slightest. “No, no…I-I could never…but maybe I w-want to see what you look like when everything g-goes dark. Does that s-scare you?” 

You use the last of your breath to let out a desperate whimper, but Toby merely smiles in response. Your heartbeat is unbearably loud in your ears, so much so that it’s starting to block out his voice. 

“I b-bet it does,” He continues, unbothered. “You know what I-I am and yet…you willingly let m-me use you like this. Do you h-have any idea what I could do to y-you? Do you even care?” 

He’s mocking you, and it stings just a bit. He’s got a point, though. I mean, what person in their right mind would be so eager to please an openly homicidal maniac? Maybe you weren’t much saner than him, all things considered…

Maybe you should have expected this. 

You really start to panic when black spots start forming in your vision, dark ashen circles burning into your sight. Toby hasn’t missed a beat even once, watching you intently with crazed eyes that see every little twitch or slight move. Your vision is overtaken by the darkness all too fast and yet agonizingly slow, drawn out to a cruel degree. You can feel the last shreds of strength leaving your body, and for a moment there’s a flicker of acceptance that there really is nothing you can do, though it’s quickly washed away by your distress. There’s a split second where you’re nearly blind, only able to see the smallest shards of light, and if Toby hadn’t decided to pull his hand away right then and there you surely would have passed out. 

When you finally feel him let you go you inhale on instinct, nearly sobbing with relief when your lungs finally fill with air again. You cough and heave as you fight for your breath with all you can. For a few moments you don’t notice that Toby has stopped moving his hips completely, now more invested in observing you. Your eyes watered as you struggled to calm your sporadic breathing. 

“T…Toby—“ You call weakly, barely managing to speak. In response his hips twitch, reminding you that his length is still throughly nestled inside of you. You grit your teeth to hold back a broken moan. 

“Heheh, did you k-know you get this…this f-funny look in your eye when you’re scared?” He asks, but you know he’s not really interested in an answer. You couldn’t give one anyways. 

He adjusts your position in his lap once more, making you tense up as you feel him shift inside of you. He begins to drag a hand up your chest just as you’ve managed to calm your breathing, and it quickly finds itself dangerously close to your neck. 

“T-Toby, wait—“ You begin to plead, but he quickly cuts you off. 

“Shhhh, shhhh…Don’t f-fight me, pretty thing. Just let me play w-with you a bit longer…” 

#ticci toby x reader #ticci toby smut #toby rogers #ticci toby #creepypasta #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta smut #creepypasta masterlist #gender neutral reader #ticci toby x reader smut #creepypasta x reader smut

[flowersandbigteeth]

Your orc husband comes to fetch you

A little thing to start 2024. I've gotten lots of requests for more orcs ^_^

General Plot: Your husband finds out you've been injured in battle and comes to fetch you.

Orc (Reven) x GN reader

Word count: 1K-ish

More SFW fics

TW: Mention of amputation, mention of break up, hurt comfort, sfw fluff, size difference

“Heard the news?” Reven’s client asked, a brave move considering the razor at his throat. 

Skilled fingers never wavering as he drew the blade across his client's chin, he let out a bored grunt, focused on his task.

“There’s rarely any news that hasn't made it through the shop.” 

His client’s eyes twinkled, eager to share some gossip. 

“They say the Dragon Slayer is retiring.” 

Reven’s graceful stroke paused, and he pulled his hand back before he sliced the man's cheek. 

“Oh? I thought they’d never give up their crusade.”  

“Word is the crusade is over. The dragons pillaging Walker’s Keep are dead. The slayer killed them all.” 

Reven took a deep breath before asking his next question. 

“Will they be returning to their homeland?” 

The client snorted. 

“If they ever leave the hospital. They were gravely wounded in the final battle. Thank the Goddess the dragon’s gone, they won't be doing much-” 

The razor clattered to the floor with a metallic clang, and Reven’s feet carried him out the front door of his barbershop without a word to the half-shaved client sitting in his chair. 

He left his crinkled apron in the dirt as he mounted his horse and steered her towards the road to Walker’s Keep. 

–

“Come on hero, eat a little,” one of the nurses at the clinic urged you, holding up a spoon of oatmeal. 

You waved it away with your remaining hand, your face a miserable, twisted version of itself. 

She huffed, getting annoyed. 

“You haven't eaten in three days! It's only a hand. Some of the people here have lost brain matter, their genitals…You've already killed the dragons. You don't need-” 

A clamor outside the door of your hospital room cut off her little tirade. 

An orderly’s deep voice drifted through the door. 

“Sir! Only family can-” 

“I am family, dammit. I'm their husband!” 

Reven’s familiar baritone made your heart flutter. Still, you were afraid. It had been so long since you'd seen one another. Three years and you hadn't parted on a happy note. 

The door flew open, and there he was, his massive shoulders filling the frame, emerald green skin as rich as you remembered it. He’d changed his hair, no longer cropped around his ears, but long hanging in a thick ponytail over his shoulders. 

He tipped his head to enter the room, dark eyes on you, and his lips twisted around his tusks in an expression you remembered as annoyance. 

“Get out,” he barked at the nurse, and she shuffled past him without question. 

Your voice was only a murmur.

“You came.” 

“Of course, I came. I would have come sooner, but someone failed to send their spouse a note mentioning they’d lost their hand!” 

Your eyes dipped, full of shame. 

You'd left Reven on a cold December night. He'd begged you not to go, cried, yelled, and made you a million promises if you'd just let someone else handle the mission. But no, you had to be a hero, and look what that brought you. You were broken and useless, alone in a hospital bed. 

“Stop thinking so hard,” he muttered, chestnut eyes roving over you, ever analytical. 

He crossed the room and plopped down on the bed, holding his hand out. 

“What?” you asked. 

“Let me see it.”

You stretched your bandaged stump to him, and he fingered it gingerly. For an Orc he had nimble fingers honed by years as a barber. 

“Bah…Just a scratch.” 

He gently placed it in his lap, twisting his body so the two of you were face to face. 

“It's my sword hand. I'll never kill another dragon.” 

His head tipped to the side. 

“I've heard the dragons are dead.” 

“They are, but-” 

“But nothing. You accomplished your mission…sacrificed for the kingdom…It's time to come home.” 

You blinked at him, tears burning the backs of your eyes. 

“You want me to come home? I'm…I'm useless.” 

He chuckled. 

“Nothing's changed without your hand. You've never been good at anything but killing.” 

“Swordsmanship was my only skill.” 

“A stupid one.” 

His lips twisted around his tusks again, but this time with amusement. Large fingers slipped over your cheek, and he pulled your head to him, brushing his lips over yours. His scent and taste were so familiar. It was as if you'd been holding your breath the three years you'd been gone and could finally get some oxygen. When he pulled back, he looked down at you, expression solemn. 

“I wrote you letters. You never wrote back. Did you toss them all out?” 

You shook your head, trying to hold the tears back. The Dragon Slayer crying was embarrassing. You nodded to the small chest where the nurses had placed your belongings. 

Reven crossed the room, opening the box and pulling out a stack of letters tied with a green ribbon you’d come across. 

“I didn’t know what to say. I felt…guilty…I guess.” 

He tossed them on your lap, narrowing his eyes at you.

“Hello. I love you, would have sufficed.” 

“I’m sorry, Reven. I left and ruined myself when I could have been home with you. I could have been happy.” 

“You killed the dragons, accomplished your goal…You aren’t happy?” 

“It feels emptier than I thought it would. I left you alone. Anything could have happened to you, and I would have lost my chance to see you again.” 

He chuckled. 

“I’m not helpless.” 

“I left you alone. It’s unforgivable.” 

“That’s for me to decide.” 

You looked up at him, searching his eyes. 

“You’d forgive me? I don’t deserve it. I got hurt. You told me this would happen, and I didn’t listen. Now I’m just a burden and a fool.” 

He sighed and pushed you to the side, sliding into bed with you before pulling you back into his lap. His nose grazed the column of your neck, and you felt him breathe in your scent.

“Maybe a fool, but never a burden, and being foolish doesn’t make you unlovable. I missed you (Y/N).” 

“I missed you, too.” 

“You weren’t the only fool.” 

“You started dating another bloodthirsty idiot while I was away?” 

“I should have come with you. I was angry at you, but that didn’t last long. Then I was bitter you hadn’t asked me to join you, and I didn’t insist.” 

“Kharma caught up to me.” 

“If you hadn’t lost your hand, would you still be gallivanting over the countryside fighting monsters?” 

“Probably.” 

He buried his face in your neck, and you felt the slight wetness of tears against your skin. 

“I don’t think it was Kharma…I think it was Fate.”

“Fate?”

“Fate spared two idiots unwilling to budge.” 

You sat on those words for a few minutes, the heat of Reven’s body seeping into your bones. You could never quite get warm the entire time you’d been gone, no matter how many furs you donned. You always felt cold, even with the heat of the dragon’s flame singing the tips of your eyelashes. 

“Don’t leave again,” he whispered.

“It wasn’t worth it. I’d read and reread your letters all those lonely nights, wishing I had the strength to abandon my quest and return. I was afraid…I’ve never been afraid before. I’ve killed monsters my whole life and never felt fear, but the thought that you might reject me if I walked through those doors…that I’d come home to find some other lover warming your bed…our home…” 

You felt Reven smile into your skin. 

“There aren’t too many half-feral sword-wielding jocks roaming around Elderoak. That’s what I go for.” 

“Thank you for coming to get me, Reven.” 

“I should have come sooner.” 

“I wouldn’t have listened.” 

“I’m bigger than you. I should have thrown you over my shoulder and taken you home.” 

“And now…?” 

“You could walk…or I could throw you over my shoulder anyway if you like that sort of thing.” 

You twisted your body to snuggle deeper into Reven’s arms. You finally felt warm for the first time in three years. 

“Did the doctor clear you to leave?” 

“They’ve done all they can…they were waiting on me to eat.” 

You felt his chest shudder as he chuckled. 

“You don’t want cold hospital gruel? Spoiled.” 

“Not spoiled enough. I miss your cooking. I want to go home.” 

He hopped to his feet, making you jump as he hoisted you princess-style into his arms. 

“I’ll come back for your things,” he promised as he carried you out the door. 

“Forget about it…It’s just armor and weapons I don’t need anymore. The letters are the only things I want to keep.” 

“Are you sure? They’re a little sad. I missed you so badly…I whined more than anything.” 

“I want them to…remember how unfair it was…everything I put you through to stroke my own pride.” 

He lifted you up to his lips to press a heavy kiss into your forehead. 

“Even if you forget, I’ll make you remember. You left, but I let you go. I’m sorry for that (Y/N).” 

“Then we’re both sorry.” 

Your stomach grumbled loudly, and Reven laughed again. 

“Sorry and hungry. Think you can get down some tavern food? It’s not my cooking, but you can’t wait to eat until we get back to Elderoak.” 

You looked up at him, cupping his thick jaw with your remaining hand.

“In your company, it’s just as good.” 

#monster boyfriend #monster x reader #monster fluff #x reader #monster lover #orc x reader #orc boyfriend #orc romance #orc #orctober #teratophillia #terato fic #orc fluff #fliff #fluff #romance fluff #sfw romance #sfw fluff #sfw monster fluff #monster x gn reader #x gn reader #gn reader #monster romance #monster fic #orc fic #my fic #my fic writing #x yn #yn #self insert

[blushweddinggowns]

The night before his first day of his second senior year Eddie was sincerely considering just dropping out. And if he could just figure out how to forge a High School Diploma he would have by now. Because the thought of going to that hellhole without Steve was making him feel sick, for more reasons than one. 

Obviously, he was just going to miss being around him, as fucked up as that was. He was still going to be the first thing he saw every morning and the last thing when he woke up. 

He would still get to monopolize his time outside of classes and it had already been agreed upon that the weekends were now solely for them, other friends and responsibilities be damned. That one had been Steve’s idea, even going as far as demanding that Eddie come bother him at work for at least half his shift on the days he couldn’t get out of it. That still didn’t feel like enough. Even if it would have to be. 

It’s just… Steve’s presence was so damn comforting. The thought of having to go through the mundanity of high school all over again without him made him feel sick. Though, Eddie would be lying if it wasn’t good practice for when they were out on their own. It wasn’t like they could be glued to each other’s sides when they both had jobs to worry about. 

But that didn’t mean he had to like it. 

That wasn’t even mentioning the bigger, more obvious issue was that Eddie wouldn’t be around to make sure Steve didn’t accidentally kill himself. For six hours out of the day, he’d be completely out of the loop, utterly oblivious to any of the dangers his angel had a knack for putting himself in. 

Part of him understood that no, it wasn’t reasonable to expect to know where your boyfriend was every hour of the day. The average person would definitely think he was insane for that. But the average person didn’t live above a literal hellscape. They didn’t have nightmares of monsters tearing their future husband apart. He had earned the right to be paranoid, even if it could potentially get in the way of the whole graduating thing. 

It wasn’t helping that he had already skipped the first official day, a fact that he was currently paying for. 

“Syllabus day doesn’t count,” Eddie argued for the tenth time, trying and failing to avoid Steve’s glare, “Don’t look at me like that, it doesn’t!”

He had his head against Steve’s stomach, both of them sprawled out on his bed. Steve was running his hands through Eddie’s hair, comforting despite the fact that he was in the middle of a lecture. 

Steve rolled his eyes, “Have you ever heard the phrase ‘Nobody got fired for kissing ass?’ That’s the mentality you should have right now.”

Eddie hated that he was right. He hated how actually trying this time was unavoidable. Not when both Wayne and Steve believed that he could graduate. The sincerity of that belief was powerful enough to have him actually doing this shit all over again. 

Why were the two people he loved the most like this?

He had been pouting about it all night, and there was only so much coddling Steve could do to make him feel better. Because now he had to do this shit without him, which was a whole new brand of hell that Eddie wasn’t sure he was ready for. 

The cuddling was helping a little bit though. 

“It’s only nine months,” Steve said for probably the third time, leaning down to kiss the top of his head, “And then we’re out of here. I know you can do it.”

“I’m only doing it for you two,” Eddie mumbled like he hadn’t already said that a million times “If I fail again I’m just going for the GED. I’m not doing this shit three fucking times.”

“I wouldn’t ask you to,” Steve reassured, “When July hits we’re out of here, no matter what.”

“How am I supposed to keep an eye on you when I’m gone six hours a day?” Eddie whined, some of that sincere fear that he had creeping into his voice, “Because I swear to god, if you get into some supernatural shit while I’m at school I’m going to freak the fuck out.”

Steve rolled his eyes, like Eddie was the crazy one here. Never mind the flesh spider monsters and Russian torture, “Well… if you keep an eye on Dustin it’s basically the same thing right? He’s the one that keeps getting me involved.”

Eddie sighed, pushing away his hands to clamor into Steve’s lap with a frown, “I’m serious Steve.”

But Steve wasn’t taking him seriously. He was just cooing at him, sitting up so he could wrap his arms around Eddie’s waist, “I’d be able to take you a lot more seriously if you weren’t so cute when you pout.”

Eddie knew that he was trying to make him smile, but Eddie refused to crack. It wasn’t funny. He didn’t get it, how terrifying it was to realize how close the love of his life had come to dying without him. Eddie hoped he never would, he hoped nothing ever bad happened to him again. Or at the least, nothing fucking life-threatening. Was that so much to ask for?

That didn’t stop Steve from continuing to keep things light. “Baby come on. The Upside Down shit is over. How will I get myself into trouble? I go to like four, five places. I’m too boring to get murdered nowadays.”

Eddie frowned, deciding to hold his tongue. Though in all honesty… he wasn’t so sure that all of that Upside Down shit was over.  He didn’t like thinking about it much, but so far every fucking time they had thought they had won, something else happened. Once a year for three years didn’t make him feel that hopeful for the fourth, despite how many governmental reassurances they got. It was kind of horrifying when you got right down to it, and acknowledging the possibility of it at all was almost enough to send him into a panic attack. 

He shoved the thoughts back down, grumbling instead, “Well you seem to keep finding a way.”

Steve, the little shit, had the audacity to roll his damn eyes at him. He put a hand to his chest, dramatically making the sign of the cross, “I swear to God, I won’t do anything dangerous without you again. Scout’s honor.”

The sentiment was cute enough to finally force Eddie to smile. Even though that wasn’t even close to good enough for him, “How about you never do anything dangerous, ever?”

At least Steve had the good grace not to lie to him. Steve sighed, batting his eyelashes at him like being cute could magically fix all of his worries, “Not if given the choice?”

“It’s not funny, Steve,” Eddie said, completely unimpressed at his attempts to appease him, “If something happens to you while I’m fucking around in chemistry class… it’s gonna kill me.”

He wasn’t… trying to make Steve’s fucked up experiences about him. But his angel was too much of a self-sacrificing idiot to get it unless he did. To his credit, it did seem to work. Steve was instantly softening, a tiny frown on his face as he hugged Eddie to him a little tighter with one arm. 

“Eddie, look at me,” Steve softly demanded, gently putting two fingers on his chin to turn his face up, turning his face up, “I’m going to be fine, okay? Trust me, I wouldn’t do that to you again. No more near-death experiences. I promise. You trust me don’t you?”

That was a trick question, but that didn’t mean Eddie didn’t fall for it, “Of course I do! But-”

“No buts,” Steve interrupted, leaning in to press a light kiss to his mouth, “I’ll be fine. And so will you. Then we’ll be out of this town once and for all.” 

That would have to be enough. He was right anyway, there was nothing Eddie could do about it but trust him. Though that didn’t mean he couldn’t pout about it. 

Eddie sighed, deciding the best course of action was to hide his face into Steve’s neck, “I’m going to do it. Really. I just don’t want to.”

Steve was quiet for a moment, gnawing on his bottom lip before finally nodding to himself. He tangled his hand into Eddie’s hair, gently forcing him away from his hiding spot to look at him. He looked a little nervous, which was kind of odd. Maybe even suspicious. 

Eddie was already on horny alert by the time Steve opened his mouth, “Maybe you just need a little incentive?”

Eddie cocked his head at him, confused, “What do you mean?”

“I’ll show you,” Steve said as he carefully pushed Eddie off of him, “Wait here.” 

Eddie watched him go, still confused but also a little excited. If Steve had something up his sleeve that would make this shit slightly more motivating, Eddie was happy to hear about it. 

Though… it sure was taking him a while. A solid ten minutes went by without a peep.  Eddie sighed as he fiddled with his rings, naturally impatient for Steve to just come back already. 

“Bored already?” Steve softly laughed from the doorway. 

Eddie rolled his eyes, a bitchy comment on the tip of his tongue as he looked up. A comment that instantly withered when he took the image of him fully in. 

What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck. 

From the newest (updated!) Chapter of this fic

#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #the universe trapped in your skin #steddie ficlet #steddie childhood friends au #this is sfw but the fic itself is not

[fanaticsnail]

Let Me Take Care of You

Even though I have all of the one-shots planned out and added to the Masterlist, mapped out several other plot points, and attempted to prioritize fics that I've desperately been putting off - I feel like we all needed this. TLC for our broody warlord. He needs to have his burden relieved in a SFW way (for once, regarding my writing!).

Word Count: 4,323

Warnings: semi-sub-Mihawk, switch-behaviour, moaning, kissing, pining, massaging, swearing (once), barely proof-read, fluff.

Song suggestion: Older - Isabel LaRosa

The amber-coloured eyes of the warlord shut tightly as he rose the maroon-coloured liquid to his lips; barely a whisper of a flinch perking up to his crows feet as he sipped at it. He rolled the bitter liquid over his tongue, savouring the flavour of the tart tannins before relinquishing it down his throat. The alcohol trickled down his neck to pool in a heat at the pit of his bare chest and stomach as he listened further to your melodical voice speaking with expert precision his readying schedule.

“Praises of your battle have already been sent in from the World Government’s head office,” you nodded, relinquishing the rolled newspaper from beneath your arm to present to the warlord while expertly holding your clipboard up to your face.

Mihawk rolled his neck, reopening his eyes and grasping the wafer-fine paper roll from your outstretched hand. Fingertips barely whispering a small touch, you retracted your hand from his once he clasped his hand around the material.

“Go on,” he commanded in a lazy tone while unrolling the paper to begin reading it. A glimpse of agitation fell to the warlord’s brow as his eyes narrowed, skimming over the pages while you continued to relay his schedule to him.

“You expressed interest in tending to your vineyard later today: I’ve already sent for your stable-hand to brush down your Clydesdale for a ride,” your eyes narrowed as you examined your boss, “also, the horticulturalist and viticulturalist have scheduled a meeting with you and the cellar hands to ready the next vintage of Tokaji for you to sample.”

Mihawk hummed in response, his nose hissing in a small, sharp inhale afterwards.

You were accustomed to his surliness as his personal assistant; your roles being from administrative roles regarding: scheduling, to managing his liaisons with the world government contacts to running his large homestead and farmlands with his many staff; alongside his sales associate for his Tokaji distribution and growth on Kuraigana. You were on first name terms after several years within his service, but chose to remain formal while you were within working hours.

“Sir?” you asked him, sharply. He snapped his unblinking eyes to bore into your own.

“Yes?” he questioned in a bored, drawn out tone.

“You are less like yourself today,” you noted, pulling the clipboard away from the front of your torso and placing it down on the table to lay it before him, “you normally rise at the opportunity to indulge in your samples. Is there something I should be made aware of? An injury perhaps?”

A small scowl drew itself upon the lips of the warlord; something akin to a pout below his well-maintained moustache.

“If any of them had the skill to land a single blow, I would have made you aware of such an occurrence,” he taunted you, agitation again falling to his brow. He floated his hawk-eyes back to the newspaper, shaking it to stabilise the material with a firm grip.

You cocked your chin sharply at his challenge, quickly raking your eyes over his body to check it for injury or slight dishevelment. Your sights fell to his righthand shoulder; zeroing your eyes with a precise beam against his upper body.

“You’ve pulled something,” you noted through pursed lips, “an overexertion wielding Yoru, no doubt while-.”

“-I have no such ailment,” he spoke over you in a sharp tone, his eyes snapping to yours over the top of the newspaper with a scowl. You held your narrowed gaze against his own with relentless resolve, choosing to step towards him as he withdrew his sights to fall back to the newspaper.

“As you’ve been priorly informed, sir, I have quite the resume,” you began, bringing your fingertips to curl down the top of the paper Mihawk was grasping, “you are aware of my history as a rehabilitative remedial therapist, and I am glad to offer my hands to you should you ever require them.”

It was true. Your vast experience was why Dracule Mihawk hired you. Your resume was unlike anything he had encountered prior, which is why he chose to keep you close. Swordsmanship, dagger mastery, martial combat, administrative duties, expert skills in the realms of viticulture and remedial massage occupied the majority of your time in study – undoubtedly the reason you never acquired the opportunity to settle down and home-make with a partner of your own, and chose to accept the role of assistant from the great swordsman.

Mihawk chose to ignore your hand pulling the paper downwards and continue to skim his eyes on the lower edges of the page to avoid your statement. You quirked your brow at him in question before sighing and retracting your hand from the pages.

“If that will be all, sir,” you began with a curt nod, “I shall retire to my duties managing your staff.”

As you turned to flee from the large dining hall, a voice softly addressed you.

“Fine,” Mihawk uttered in a low tone, prompting you to halt your next step, “I admit it. Wielding Yoru has taken its toll recently and I may have strained myself under the weight.”

You smirked before turning back towards your boss. Tilting your neck to relieve a small ‘click’ of pressure, you dropped your smirk and turned back to face him once more.

“Would you like me to rid that burden from you, sir?” you asked him, approaching the table once more while reaching for the newspaper and wine glass from his hands, “take the weight from your shoulders?”

He sighed, dropping his head and relinquishing his grasp on the two objects and handed them over to you.

“Yes,” he admitted in a exhaled whisper.

A soft smile drew itself to the corners of your lips as you placed down the objects on the table in front of him. You had never before crossed this particular boundary between you and Mihawk; fondness in professional comradery being the only true establishment in your relationship before the years and depth of professional curtesy blossomed into true alliance.

As your tenure drew close, your relationship did begin to deepen over a glass of wine or two after you had completed your duties of the evening. He had begun asking for your opinion after your third year of service. Your fifth year, he trusted your judgements in a variety of tasks; relinquishing them completely to you.

Within the eighth year of employment, he would often seek you out for conversation regarding his staff; often seeking, in his own way, gossip amongst the members he employed. This being your ninth year of employment, you could easily find the word ‘friend’ from falling within your thoughts regarding the dark-haired gentleman before you. You held a fondness for him, often desiring to see him thrive in achieving his combatant goals and maintaining his title of world’s greatest swordsman. You could even go so far as to say you loved him; pining for him through subtlety caring for him in all ways in your duties.

“Say no more,” you responded, reaching your hand towards his own; gaining his full attention in a curt snap of his chin upwards. He gazed up at you, you almost stooping towards his seated form. His eyes held the depth of his ailment.

“Go and ready yourself in the bathing quarters; dress down but remain covered,” you nodded to him, giving his hand a gentle squeeze in affirmation, “I’ll have your itinerary cancelled for the day and rescheduled for the following week. And between us,” you reached your other hand to smooth over his cheek in a gentle caress, “the grapes would do well with maturing on the vine for a little while longer.”

He hummed against your hand, eyes closing and leaning into your caress. You were taken aback at his unwithheld expression of fondness for you. Helping to guide him to his feet, you ushered him throughout the doors, noticing his usually strict and rigid posture had begun to slouch against the burden on his shoulders.

You shook your head with your soft smile remaining, watching him as the final shadow of his body fell away from view. Arrangements made through den-den-mushi calls and vocal commands to your underlings; you widened your fingers to ready themselves to rid the warlord of the burdens he was carrying in the knots littered along his back and shoulders.

Walking along the halls, up the many steps and winding along the corridors; you found your feet falling to the large bathing quarters of the large, darkened castle. You knocked on the wooden door with a tri-fold, curt rap – the inner room welcoming you with a small groan beckoning your arrival from within.

You opened the door, truly not quite prepared for the sight befalling you.

Dracule Mihawk, clad in nothing but a white towel hanging from his hips: his hat, necklace and sword being nowhere in sight. Your eyes met with his curled, dark locks as his head hung lowly; his hands clasping the marble, low-lying table beneath his palms. You could almost visibly see the waves of tension falling from his bare shoulders, prompting a small gasp of empathy to fall from your lips as you shut the door behind you.

“Why did you not say something sooner, my lord?” you asked him, approaching him swiftly. He sighed in response, holding his eyes fixed to the polished tiles beneath his bare feet.

“I do not readily present vulnerability to those I employ,” he uttered through clenched teeth, “why should you be any different?”

Your brows fell to a firm frown, eyes narrowing as you uttered: “I would have thought after nearly ten years of service, we would call each other ‘friend’ by now.”

He sighed again, shoulders slouching further under the weight of his burden.

“Okay, friend,” he mocked, bringing his eyes up to meet with your own, “if you would be so kind as to hold true to your promise. Fix me.”

You folded your arms over your chest and widened your stance in stubbornness.

“Ask me more politely, friend,” you sternly challenged him; “and I just may find it in my heart to do so-.”

“-please,” Mihawk whispered through baited breath in a tone you could only just pick up on your registry.

“Beg, pardon?” you asked him, not truly processing the words falling from his lips.

“Please,” he stated a little more firmly, his eyes almost wide and pleading with you, “please fix me.”

You were shocked. Taken-aback. Flabbergasted. Holding true to your promise, you relinquished your shoes from their presence wrapped around your feet and placed them neatly by the door.

The next item you removed was your socks, placing them within the soles of your shoes. Removing your coat and placing it by the door, you turned back towards your boss and began your approach. You stood in front of him, his head bowed low once more to reveal his broad shoulders towards you.

“If I may assess the damage, sir?” you asked, reaching your hand out to touch his shoulder.

“By all means,” he mocked you, a small chuckle almost leaving as you touched your palm to his shoulder while remaining strong in front of him. Feeling the warmth radiating from his body, an audible gasp fled your lips alongside an empathetic wince.

“Fuck,” you gasped, feeling the muscle below his skin. It was completely solid. There was no ‘knot’ to work out; his entire shoulder was one large intertwining vine of tension and pressure.

Another sigh fled from his lips at your reaction, his voice addressing you; “is it truly that bad?”

You clicked your neck from side to side, retracting your hand from his shoulder and drawing your fingers to intertwine within each other to stretch them in preparation.

“Sir,” you addressed him, his eyes drawing again to yours from their down-focussed position upwards.

“Yes?” He challenged you, his tone once again mocking you with his pained smirk lingering beneath.

“You-,” you collected his chin within your fingers to hold his gae against your own, “-are going to absolutely hate me after this.”

“I doubt that,” his smirk widened.

“Oh,” you shook your head, relinquishing your hold on his chin and returning to your pile of clothes, “you are either going to fire me-,” you said, undoing your belt and untucking your shirt to have it fall below your underwear to keep you shielded, “-or propose to me after this.”

“What are you doing?” he asked you, his shoulders stiffening upright and alert at your movements. A snarl fell to his mouth as you pulled your pants from your hips downwards to pool at your feet.

“Calm down-,” your face was completely serious, your air of command falling freely from your lips in reaffirmation, “-I am going to need my knees for the job to be properly performed. Judging from the knots on your shoulders; I’m assuming the rest of your body has been equally as ill-maintained in care.”

His snarl lessened, his jaw almost falling slack before he tensed it.

“If you insist,” he relinquished his hesitation, “you know what’s best.”

“That I do, sir,” you nodded to him, again approaching him once more with a fresh towel in hand, “use this to prop your head and lie face down on the bench. Let me take care of you.”

He immediately snatched the towel from your hands and in one swift movement, he fell immediately to lie on his stomach with his arms bent outwards to prop below his chin. You couldn’t help the small giggle to fall from your lips at his eagerness, but as you were reminded of your prior experience feeling his marble-like stiffness below his muscular definition; you would be exactly as eager to be rid of your burden as he currently was.

“Get on with it, then-,” he commanded you, halting as your firm hands gripped his shoulders and began to search his muscles for the source of the tension. His spine, shoulder blades, rib cage and biceps were all stiff and rigid; a plate of stone ready to be carved under your expert and precise skill to be restored and moulded into his glory.

You winced as you located the large knot, a place in the crevasse between his shoulder blade and spinal collum close to his upper neck. You tested the pressure with your thumbs, syphoning an unintentional moan to wince through the lips of the warlord. Mihawk tensed at the shock of the sound you managed to pull from him, opening his mouth to speak; only to be cut off with your verbal reprimand.

“There is no shame in sounds here, my lord,” you informed him, pushing down further against the knot and rotating your thumbs expertly in a circular motion, “I can tell how much this pains you, and I can sense the relief you will come to feel once I rid you truly of it. If it causes you more tension to withhold your vocalisations, by all means do not restrain yourself.”

Replacing your thumb with the precise point of your elbow had Mihawk arching back into your touch with his bottom lip clenched between his top teeth; his breath hissing out in an attempt to restrain his audible moan. You continued to utilise your left arm to drive down your right elbow for a firmer pressure; finally withdrawing a completely unrestrained whimper to escape from the lips of the warlord below you as he humbled himself truly under your ministrations.

“Well done, sir,” you praised him, dragging your elbow to the mirrored point on the other shoulder to relinquish the lesser knot on the other side, “you’re doing wonderfully-.”

“-Do not treat me like some incapable- ungh!” his words were stolen from him as you continued to work your remedial magic against his knots; battling with them and overcoming them in combat beneath your skilled hands.

“Stop holding back,” you commanded him firmly, lying your right forearm directly onto his spine and baring down your weight onto it, “the more you withhold your humility, the more tense you become. Let me help you.”

Under those final four worded commands, Dracule Mihawk became a mewling, gasping, sighing mess beneath your talented hands and forearms as you continued to detangle the firm vines of his hardened knots beneath his skin. You remained professional under the sounds you pulled from him, fighting the warmth that began rising upwards from your chest to your cheeks.

You leant down towards his ear, his dark curls brushing against your cheek as you brought your lips towards his ear.

“I am going to stand on you now, my lord,” you informed him as you continued to put pressure against his left shoulder, “if that is alright with you-.”

“-Yes,” he sighed, his eyes met with yours with his pupils completely blown with unbridled satisfaction and anticipation, “please.”

His jaw was slack, his breath fleeing his lips in shallow pants as he was guided within a place somewhere situated with the most pain his body had been within while chasing the biggest release of complete relief and descending his burden onto you.

“As you command it, sir,” you nodded to him with a warm smile, placing your palms flat on his back and jumping to situate your feet beneath his thighs as you crouched lowly. You placed your bare knees against his glutes and bore the brunt of your weight first onto those pressure points.

Another relentless whimper fell from his lips before he allowed an unbridled moan to fully escape from his lips as the pressure became completely withdrawn from his muscles; leaving his body completely exposed and mouldable below your ministrations.

“I’ll be placing my feet on you now, sir,” you informed him, testing his lower back with your left foot as you rose from your kneeling position, “if you could trust my leadership for this next experience; I will guide you on when to inhale and exhale to relieve your body completely of the tension. Can you do that for me?”

“Y-yes,” he sighed. His tone caused you apprehension as you began to have the warmth from your chest truly spread itself in reaction to his vocalisation. You mentally scolded yourself, reminding yourself that you were a professional and this was your job; Mihawk was your boss, not some lover or object for you to fixate your desires upon. You shook your head and began to rise your body while baring your weight against his back beneath your feet.

“My lord-,” you began, halted only by his next words.

“-Mihawk,” he corrected you, “call me Mihawk, please.”

You nodded, inhaling and exhaling slowly to not read into his correction further than needed to be.

“Okay, Mihawk,” you spoke, a smile rising against your lips as you savoured the flavour of his name rolling over your tongue, “inhale.”

His torso rose upwards to completely balloon his chest upwards as you placed your left foot steadily against his spine.

“And slowly exhale,” you directed him, chasing after his breath with your weight. You felt the satisfaction of a loud ‘crunch’ below your toes followed by a cry of complete abandon falling from the lips of your boss below your feet.

“Good job, Mihawk,” you praised him again, “you’re listening very well.”

He moaned again against your praise as you trailed your feet upwards to fall against the mid of his back; “let’s do it again. A big inhale for me, please.”

Again breathing in a long inhale, you chased his breath with your weight while commanding him, “exhale now, Mihawk.” ‘Crunch.’

As a baker would roll out and form a crusted pastry; you were spreading out the torso of Mihawk against your weight, pulling moans, groans and cries of bliss from his lips as he listened intently to your every command. Each time he would gift you with a satisfactory ‘click,’ ‘crack,’ or ‘crunch,’ of his back and spine; you would offer him praise to follow. “Well done, Mihawk,” “you’re doing so well,” or comments of “oh, I bet that felt so good,” would fall from your own alongside an empathetic groan of pleasure at the relief he should surely feel beneath your feet.

As you fell to his shoulder blades, you stood on the tips of your toes and began to shuffle your feet to rid the flesh of any tension before you fell your feet back to drop to a kneeling position: your knees falling against his shoulders with your fingertips spread wide to brace your weight fully onto his body.

You rocked your knees against his shoulders, Mihawk’s mouth fully falling slack at this stage and brows furrowing in bliss with his eyes shut tightly. You craned your head to the side to get a full picture of his face; your brows again falling to a frown at his tension.

“Mihawk,” you verbally warned him, his eyes clenching tighter in response, “give yourself permission to be truly vulnerable beneath me.”

He sighed out a sharp exhale, his face contorting again; prompting you to apprehensively reach your hand forward to cup his cheek. His eyes fluttered open with his brows remaining furrowed. His beard felt coarse beneath your hand as your thumb soothed his cheek with small circles.

“I promise,” you moved your hand up to rub your thumb over his forehead, “you will feel much better once you just let go.”

His gaze fell to your lips before reluctantly pulling it back upwards to land on your eyes; his own eyes softening as he nodded subtly.

“Good man,” you praised him with a warm smile, removing your hand and leant backwards onto your feet once more closer to his shoulders, “now inhale once more.”

With a shaken breath, he inhaled again; feeling the tips of your fingers firmly against his neck, your knees against his shoulders and the balls of your feet perched on his lower back.

“Now exhale,” you softly commanded him, rolling your weight to your knees and chasing his relief with your body. ‘Crack.’

A low, rumbly groan of pleasure exited from the lips of the warlord in complete bliss as his tension had been successfully relieved beneath your skilled ministrations.

You smiled, slowly bringing your feet to the cool, tiled floor beneath your feet. Briefly sitting yourself atop his back, your white shirt rising slightly to reveal your underwear against his bare flesh, you hopped yourself down from your perch atop him. Reflexes overtook you as you reached your hand forward to rake through his dark locks, ruffling them beneath your fingers as you drew patterned circles against his scalp.

“Do you feel better?” you asked him, tilting your head downwards to check over his face for any further discomfort. In response, Dracule Mihawk immediately sprung to his feet; his hands falling beneath your shirt to grasp at the flesh above your hips. He dragged your pelvis to lie flush against his own, angling his chin downwards and entangling his lips against yours in a dance of passion.

Your eyes widened, your hand continuing its woven position within his hair as his moustache tickled your upper lip. You squealed out in surprise as his tongue protruded and caressed your lips as he circled his chin upwards to deepen his embrace. Raking his hands further beneath your shirt and circling around your back, he fully caged you against himself as a hawk would carry his prey within his talons.

He retracted his lips from his caress against your own and began trailing affectionate, fluttering kisses against your chin and jawline towards your ear; cradling your body completely against himself with a small, gleeful sway. You felt him smile against your skin, prompting more shock to rise to your face. Your fight, flight and freeze reflexes truly all engaged as this completely unprompted response from Dracule Mihawk continued in a dance of balancing lazy and abandoned sensibilities with a passionate and calculated engagement against your body.

He walked your body backwards towards the wall and fell himself to brace against it with his head fully falling against the arch between your neck and shoulder. He allowed another moan to fall from his lips as he bore his full weight against you; your arms reactionarily falling beneath his arms to catch him.

“Sir,” you addressed him in a warning tone, “I would not have gotten up that quickly. You needed time for your body to readjust to your new alignment before you bore your full weight onto yourself.”

“Patience is not my strongest suit, dear,” he chuckled against your shoulder, pressing his lips against your clothed body, “especially when it comes to expressing gratuity to my beautiful friend.”

You giggled, bracing his body completely against your own and in turn walking him backwards to knock the point behind his knees against the marble benchtop. He fell to a seated position, his forehead remaining connected to your stomach.

“Thank you,” he whispered, his hands falling to the back of your exposed thighs and holding your body against his forehead, “can we draw up more of those into our schedule?”

You furrowed your brows at him, reaching your right hand to retrieve his chin to tilt his head upwards to gaze into your eyes.

“My hands are yours, sir-,” you began, Mihawk bringing his left hand up to cradle your right hand within it; pressing a deep kiss against your palm while correcting you.

“-Mihawk,” he uttered, pressing another chaste kiss against your palm looking down at your hands affectionately, “please. When we’re alone like this, I am Mihawk to you.”

“Need I remind you, Mihawk,” you warned him, chasing his gaze with your own, “I am your employee, not your spouse.”

“Allow me to alter that arrangement,” he smirked against your palm, flittering his gaze upwards to meet your own once more. You shook your head at his statement with a small, half-smile.

“Firing me?” you asked him coyly, your left brow arched upwards in question.

“Courting you,” he corrected you, beckoning for you to arch downwards with his chin to rejoin your lips against his once more. Smiles and sighs in satisfaction of finally giving into your desires for one another falling from you both in unified harmony.

#one piece #opla #opla fic #one piece live action #x reader #dracule mihawk #mihawk fanfiction #mihawk #opla mihawk x reader #mihawk x reader #one piece mihawk #fluff #mutual pining

[turtletaubwrites]

Turtletaub Fic Recs ~ Part 1

This is but a small sample of the incredible One Piece fics, headcanons, and drabbles that I've read on this lovely site, so I will be adding many more lists going forward! Please enjoy, and spread the love to these writers that have given me all sorts of feels 🥰 I've dug through my list, so some of these are recent, and some are from a while ago, but they all deserve a read. Enjoy! | Other Fic Rec Lists ~ | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 |

Ace

Starvation by @wallachianblood ~ ANGST!! Only read this one if you want to hurt inside. Which is why I highly recommend! It tackles grief in such an interesting and uncomfortable way, and it's been stuck in my brain. (Please check the warnings, there's intense grief, angst, discussion death and of cannibalism in reference to romantic love and pain.)

Benn Beckman

When You Had The Chance by @fanaticsnail ~ The longing! The yearning! The "oof, why is this old man so hot?!" 🥵 Beautifully written as always, and now I have ANOTHER One Piece crush 😅

Buggy

@hey-august keeps giving us delicious lil Buggy bits that I can't get enough of! Have a taste: Breakfast, Whimpers

A Favor for the Captain ~ MORE Buggy from @hey-august that is just so stinkin' cute + hot! This two part fic is so well written, and I just adore when pathetic Buggy gets the love! 🤡💜

Corazon

A Reward From Cora by @leakyweep ~ STILL thinking about this. Short but sweet, and my Corazon, my heart, is now occupying my brain in a very different way. I would appreciate some more quiet time please 🥰

Eustass Kid

Kid by @kaizokuniichan ~ Hi, yes, this is so good! This is the fic that finally flipped me over into Kid territory. Now I'm scrambling, trying to figure out how to deal with a crush on this dumbass 🤦🏼‍♀️

Jinbe

Guiding Star by @discordantwritings ~ I didn't know I needed this, but I definitely did. Holy fuck, that fish man is sweet and 🥵🥵 Need me some more of this!

Mihawk

Little Game by @gingernut1314 ~ This is STUNNING. I'm late to the game, so I'm flipping stoked that I have more to read! The first chapter already killed me with how beautifully it's written, how rich the world/story is, and how interesting and lovely both Mihawk and the reader are!

Sanji

3, 2, 1 by @fanaticsnail ~ Ooh, this Sanji fic messed me up in the best way! I absolutely adored the flirty build up, the tension, the angst, and the lovely, smutty finale. Seriously, one of my fave Sanji fics, and you should give it a read!

Baby, It's Hot out Here by @lowkeycasanova ~ I LOVE perverted Sanji so much! Here's another short but sweet fic that carved a smutty little spot into my head. I bet Sanji would learn to make the tastiest popsicles just to enjoy the show 😏

I Can Teach You If You'd Like by @vinsmokc-sanji ~ Yeah, this is cute as fuck. Reminded me of working at restaurants, and having a crush on peeps that had no business being as hot as they were. SFW, and super cute, check it out!

Trafalgar Law (Can you tell I've been on a Law kick for a while?)

Pain Management by @thus-spoke-lo ~ I'm sorry, this fic still keeps me up at night. It has rooted itself into my skull, and I don't think it will ever leave. HIGHLY recommend. (Please check content warnings! This fic contains dubcon elements.)

Beset Fixation by @eelnoise ~ Yeah, Law with the feelings fucks me UP. This is so good, sexy, and emotional. 10/10

Therapist Law by @sanjisjuul ~ Um, hello?! This one has also stuck to my brain, and made me even more concerned for my mental health than I already was. Oh well 🤷🏼‍♀️ It's hot as fuck, highly recommend!

A New Routine, A New Man by @willowhaze26 ~ This is so satisfying, and so hot 🥵 One of the first Law fics I found, and I am grateful for this delightful work 🙏🏼🙏🏼

Hearts and Marks by @escenariosinfumables ~ This is one of the cutest fucking things I've ever read, and I need it to be canon.

Zoro

Rough by @kibblz-n-bitz ~ This is short, but filthy! Dirty talkin, dom Zoro is oh so 🥵

Ways That Zoro Wordlessly Says "I Love You" by @nina-ya ~ Such cute Zoro fluff, I adore him 😭💚 He's just a big sweetie!

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 | ko-fi |

#fic rec list #fic recs #turtletaub fic recs #one piece fanfic #one piece x reader #x reader #trafalgar law x reader #one piece smut #smut #trafalgar law smut #sanji x reader #fic masterlist #buggy smut #fem!reader #reader insert #one piece fics #mihawk x reader #jinbe x reader #zoro smut

[kooberryfields4ever]

CLOSER (TO YOU)

small jungkook bang bang sex time as my first official non-nsfw-alphabet post teehee………. i miss this man soooo bad guys it’s close to killing me😭😭😭😭 i was looping closer to you on the train when i thought this up bc the song just ignited something heady and hot and fast in my brain nd i needed to get it down!!!!!!!!! i hope u all enjoy……. i’m also working on sfw/longer fics so bare with me through the seemingly unending nsfw while i do😭😭

i really recommend listening to closer to you while you read to properly discern the DESPERATIONNNN behind this fic

wc: 1402

content warnings : smut below the cut, pwp, cunnilingus, piv sex, creampie, no dialogue!

MDNI !

You and Jungkook are fighting to release each other’s lips as you fumble your way through the front door. He kicks it shut, pressing you firmly against the wood as his hands find purchase at your waist, gripping tightly. He’s straining against his trousers, like the way you can feel your panties dampening under your silk dress. He’s licking expertly licking into your mouth, hungrily, suckling on your tongue and drawing moans out of you. You pull away to breathe a little, giggling with your head thrown back against the door at both of your determination. Jungkook chuckles in suit, attaching his lips to your neck sweetly as you expose your neck to him. His fingers dig further into your skin when he presses his hips into you - you gasp at the feeling of his hardening length pressing into your pelvis. His kisses are slow as he trails them up and down from your jaw to your collar; he nibbles gently, hand sliding up to caress the side of your tit. You sigh. Jungkook pulls back for a second, eyes on your body as both of his hands dance slowly down the length of your dress, scrunching it up to reveal your heat to him, slowly. He observes you, a dark glint in his eye as your chest heaves with desire. You watch as he sinks to the floor, his eyes boring holes into your skin. 

The moan that leaves your throat is crude as Jungkook attaches his lips to your clothed cunt, tongue running along the folds. You clench your eyes shut when he pushes his nose into you, goosebumps raising on your skin when it presses against your clit. He holds the length of your dress up against your hip, nuzzling into your pussy like a man starved, and you throw your leg up and over his shoulder when he taps your thigh. You can barely see him, his face covered by the red silk of your dress, but you can feel when his fingers dip into the waistband of your panties and drag them down slowly. He’s quick to dive back in when your pussy his finally exposed to him, his ministrations fast and desperate as he licks into your cunt with the same fervour he had when kissing you. Your hands fly to grip his scalp, bucking into him as your panties slide further down and he takes it into his own hands to pull them off you completely. His hands slide up from your calf to your thigh, before joining his mouth at your entrance. He plunges his middle finger in deep, to the knuckle, curling it against the spongy walls of your insides with precision. The noises he’s making are dirty, wet in way you can’t describe. He sucks expertly at your clit, finger pushing in and out repeatedly as you cream around him.

When a second finger slides into you, you feel your body curl into itself, your grip on his scalp tightening. Jungkook hisses, taking the stinging pain in stride as he continues mouth-fucking you. He pumps his fingers as deep as they can go, brushing against your g-spot almost teasingly, drawing moan after moan from your lips. You can feel your resolve beginning to break, the band holding you from climax bending aggressively before snapping, sending you hurling into an orgasm. Your walls pulse around Jungkook’s fingers as he fucks you through it, kissing and licking at your folds and clit while you come down. When you begin to twitch from overstimulation, he finally pulls out, standing up to loom back over you before taking his fingers into his mouth. He licks and sucks your essence from his knuckles gently, his free hand moving back to your hip to press himself against you once again. You close your eyes, the bulge of his hardened member pressing into you erotically. You can barely move.

It's unsurprising when Jungkook picks you up in your daze, swinging you over his shoulder unceremoniously as he carries you to his bedroom. The passion from before still lingers when he throws you down as gently as he can, crawling over you. His mouth finds yours once again, reigniting the flame within your belly as you moan into his mouth. He smirks. Your hands fumble at his belt, parting from him as you desperately work against the buckle and his zip. He shoves them down, alongside his underwear, and shrugs them off, resuming his position over you to press his lips against yours. His dick presses against your thigh. He’s gentler with your clothes, fingers tucking under the thin bands of your dress delicately, letting them fall off your shoulder as he presses kiss after kiss onto your mouth. He leans back from you for only a second to grip at the hem and pull the fabric over your head, exposing you to him finally. He sighs happily. He seems unable to detach himself from your lips, diving back in to taste you hungrily, yet tenderly. You gasp when his finger finds your bra strap, pinging it against your skin with a breathy chuckle, urging you to sit up a little while his hands unclasp it from the back. He sits back this time, keen to watch as you slide the bra off your chest slowly, your breasts drooping from the cups. He watches for a short while, his eyes darting between your tits, watching your nipples grow impossibly harder from the chill in the air as they’re exposed.

You lay back. He tilts his head a little, still sat up as he reaches down to take one of your breasts in his large hand, thumb rolling over your nipple tenderly. His touch is achingly slow, finger joining his thumb to pinch you, and you sigh. He finally knocks himself out of his trance when he feels his dick twitch, and watches you observe before leaning back over you to kiss you once again. You clench around nothing when his length presses against your skin again, moaning as he grabs it and jabs his tip into your clit teasingly. He allows himself to thrust between your dripping folds a few times, lubing himself up before aligning himself with your entrance and pushing in, pressing his forehead into your shoulder. His thrusts are immediately desperate, not allowing you a moment to adjust before he drives into you quickly. Your hands fly around the back of his head, pressing him into your shoulder as you both moan. Jungkook grips your hips tightly, fingers sure to bruise as he pounds himself into you, unrelenting when you clench and groan and scratch at his back. He presses a chaste kiss to your collar, hands dropping to your thighs to help lift your hips ever so slightly off to bed to push himself even deeper. Your eyes widen, his tip prodding at your cervix deliciously with every thrust.

When his breathing becomes heavier against your skin, you can tell he’s close. Your fingers find your clit, rubbing furiously. Jungkook practically growls when he feels you tighten around him, your walls pushing him out as your climax nears. He lifts his head up from your shoulder, eyes dark with desire when he fixes his gaze on you and dives into your lips for a final time. You kiss him back with equal fervour, fingers dancing expertly across your nub as Jungkook pile-drives into your pussy. His free hand comes up to play desperately with your tit, squeezing the flesh and rolling his palm against your hardened nipple. It’s enough to send you over the edge once more, your breath hitching against his unstopping lips as your cunt clenches tightly around him over and over. He presses his forehead against yours, lifting your hip even higher with a grunt as his hips stutter. His eyes search yours desperately, brows furrowed when he buries himself to the hilt and lets out a shaky breath, cum flooding your womb as he makes short thrusts at your cervix. He swallows, and you watch him carefully as he lets go of your thigh, pulling out and collapsing beside you.

You can feel his cum dribble pathetically out of your entrance, his loud snores permeating through the air. You chuckle, pulling him closer to you and nestling into his chest. Cleaning up can come later.

a/n 🗒️ tysm for reading !!!!!! all ur support n likes n reblogs mean the world to me🥺 pls dont be shy to send me asks/requests if u want i am completely open to anything even if u just wanna talk !!!!

#koob navi #jungkook #jungkook hard hours #jungkook hard thoughts #jungkook smut #jungkook x yn #jungkook x reader #yn x jungkook #reader x jungkook #bts hard hours #bts hard thoughts #bts smut

[bimobuddy]

Learning to Trust

SFW Hazbin TK fic

Alright people hear me out with this one

Major Spoilers

CW: Brief mention of anxiety disorders, swearing

Lee!Vox, Ler!Alastor

It's kind of a ship? The Aromantic 'Squish' equivalent of a ship. Well not yet anyway, they're still rivals in this, but I might make a part 2 that explores that a little more

It was gonna be Valentino and Vox, but I'm mad at Val so he got his boyfriend privileges taken away >:(

This might get kinda angsty, sorry in advance

Summary: Vox is glitching out and having connection issues, so he bites the bullet and asks help from the only other demon who can help him. Unfortunately with that demon being Alastor, they run into some issues.

It had started happening after the battle between the exterminators and the sinners. The War between Heaven and Hell. Vox had been watching it all happen on his TV, mostly keeping an eye on Alastor. Originally the plan was to watch by himself, but Velvet insisted they all watch together, and he couldn't really think of a good enough lie to tell her no, so he gave in.

He had spent the whole night playing up how much he hated Alastor, which is easy when your entire life and afterlife, you've been a TV Show Host. Many years of acting. At one point he even hoped if he got too obnoxious, the other two might leave, but used to his antics, they stayed.

But inside he was immensely stressed out. Yes he and Alastor were rivals, but there was something about the rivalry he needed. Something about it he liked. He couldn't really explain it himself, and he preferred not to think about it, preferring to tell himself that he just enjoyed hating the Radio Host.

So when he watched Alastor almost get killed by Adam, seeing him actually vulnerable for once... It scared him.

Then started the glitching. He knew it was from stress, the feeling was very familiar to when he was a human with an anxiety disorder. Only instead of a racing heart and suddenly feeling faint and warm, his anxiety came in the form of glitching, as his mind couldn't process everything, and showed it visibly on his screen.

He had tried for hours to make it stop, to try and fix it himself, but he couldn't see the mirror properly through all the glitching. That and the glitching made it hard to think.

He considered going to Velvet, but despite her phone and social media use, she didn't actually know anything about the tech itself. There was one more option, but he really didn't want to even consider it.

Though as he started to glitch out again, he decided to just bite the bullet.

-

Vox found himself scaling up the side of the Hotel, climbing toward Alastor's radio tower.

He'd rather fall to his death than use the doors and ask to see him. As he reached the top, he frantically tapped on the window, feeling another glitch about to happen.

Nothing.

He started tapping again, even faster this time.

Still nothing.

He made a fist and drew his arm back to just break the window in-

*click*

"Well this is quite the predicament." Alastor said, leaning over the windowsill. "Shut up asshole, just let me in." Vox grumbled. Alastor's grin seemed to widen. "And why shouldn't I just give you a little nudge?" The radio host questioned, placing his cane lightly against Vox's screen.

Vox couldn't help but notice that his cane had been seemingly glued back together and.. bandaged up? He didn't have time to think about that. "I uh.." He trailed off, only for Alastor to push his cane a little harder into Vox's screen. He tried to speak again, but he glitched, losing his grip and slipping.

But he didn't fall. Through all the TV static, he felt his wrists being grabbed, as he was pulled upward. He still couldn't focus much, but he recognized that he had dropped to a hardwood floor now.

"My, this certainly is quite a problem.. For you, anyway, I find it entertaining." Alastor chuckled. Vox pressed a palm to the cool floor to try and ground himself. Gradually, the static cleared itself. "You know what I found interesting? That someone as strong and as feared as you got cut down by an angel." He said, glaring.

The room got deadly silent, Alastor's smile much more strained now.

"... I need your help, okay?"

"And why should I help you? Especially after that nice little comment you made."

"Listen, I'm- Ugh. Forget it, I don't know why I even both-øťhəred-" Vox had stood to leave, only for another glitch to have him leaning against the wall for support.

"It appears neither of us are in great shape." Alastor said, begrudgingly lifting Vox by his upper arm and setting him in one of the swivel chairs. He crossed his arms and waited for Vox's glitching to pass.

After a solid minute, Vox groaned, his head starting to hurt. "So what made you think you'd come to someone who famously hates television boxes for help? Especially when that person is a rival, an enemy, someone you've fought in the past?" Alastor asked.

Vox looked up at him, feeling that pit of anxiety in his stomach again. "I didn't know who else to go to. Valentino is useless, Velvet doesn't know shit about tech, and you're the only other demon who has seen me weak before."

Alastor took a moment to process that last part. He considered it. If he helped Vox, he risked being seen as soft. But if he didn't help him, what if it got worse, and he lost his nemesis, the pettiness that kept him going at times, that pushed him to be the best Host?

He sat down in his seat, across from Vox. "Do you trust me?" He asked. Vox thought for a moment. Did he? He must have if he came here. "I have to."

"Good enough." Alastor went to get started... "Wait how the hell do I do this? I'm more familiar with my own equipment."

Oh, right. Vox sighed. "The back of my monitor comes off. Just open it, and I'll instruct you from there." He said, turning around and removing his hat.

Alastor curled his fingers around the back panel of his monitor, causing Vox to jump a little. "If you want me to help you, sit still-" "I am, shut up." Alastor pulled the back panel off and was met with what to him looked like Alien technology.

After Vox had instructed him on what to do, he got to work. Though he didnt like working in silence, it felt a little too intimate, especially with his hands inside someone else's head.

"So what exactly caused this, if I may ask?" He questioned. "Stress. I start to glitch out when things are hard to process and I overload. Sometimes if the glitching gets too bad, I shut down, which I'd rather avoid."

"Shut down," Alastor repeated, "I thought if you 'shut down,' you'd die or something?" "No, no.. I can more closely compare it to burnout but ten times worse. Last time I shut down, it took me a week to recharge."

"Hm. And what caused you to become so stressed this time? Sure I've seen you briefly buffer and glitch during our fights, but never this bad." Alastor asked. Vox noticed the radio filter in his voice seemed to fade out. He was genuinely curious.

He didn't know what to say. More like he didn't know how to say it. How do you tell your rival of all people you were stressed because you saw them get hurt?

"Well? With how close I am to all these wires, I'd answer if I were you." Ah, his filter was back. "I just.. Got overworked." "Need I remind you how easy it would be for me to unplug some of these wires? Hm, this yellow one seems awfully loose-" "I was worried oka- Aha!"

...

"What do we have here?" Alastor asked, a smile evident in his voice. Vox froze. He actually didn't know 'what they had there.' That had never happened before.

"I-I don't know, but Alastor I swear to Satan himself- wahait- grr- Don't!" He gripped the armrests of his seat in a desperate attempt to hold still. He worried if he pulled away too fast, he'd accidentally rip a wire out.

It felt so weird. He could actually feel Alastor messing with the wires in his head, specifically the ones down at the bottom that ran down his neck and into his back. Each time the Radio host rolled one between his fingers, it sent what felt like electricity into his system. Thousands of little shocks that made him want to pull away and- No. He wouldn't, it was dumb, it was weak, and it wasn't like him.

Alastor grinned wider, finding it fun to mess with him. "Why Vox, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were ticklish." He said, rubbing the wires again, watching as Vox gripped the armrests tighter and scrunched his shoulders up. Alastor only grew more amused as he heard the other's fans whir to life as his ventilation system tried to cool him down.

Vox, however, felt like he was fighting for his life. His shoulders were shaking, his chest was spasming, and he felt his screen overheating. He was actively fighting back any noise that tried to escape. He refused to be seen as any weaker than he already was. "T-Tickl-what? The f-fuhuck is that? Thihis isn't a vihirus??"

Alastor paused. "You seriously have never heard of tickling? It's childsplay. Children often have tickle-fights with their siblings and friends. You've never even seen it?" "I never really had any friends."

There was a beat of silence.

"What about the other V's?"

"Gross, you think I'd let Valentino get anywhere near me? You know where his hands have been?"

"Where haven't they been is the real question."

Fuck, that got a laugh out of Vox. A real one too, not the fake rehearsed one he used in public or on TV. It was lighter than Alastor expected, genuine, and almost had a warm sound to it if you can imagine that.

And Alastor found himself wanting to hear it again. "I suppose I should get back to maintenance now shouldn't I?" He said, returning to his work, get making sure his hands brushed over the wires and cables occasionally. More than occasionally.

"A-Alastor- fuhuck- wahahait- *wheeeze* ahahahaha!" Vox found himself stomping the floor a little, since he was unable to pull away. He felt light scritching at the base of his neck, obviously intentional. "Yohohou ohold tihihimey prihick! I'll d-dehehe- dehehehahahaha!"

"Oh I'm sorry, you're going to what now? I can't exactly hear you." Alastor grinned. Both hands, or claws one should say, suddenly scritched at the back of his ribs.

Unable to control himself, Vox tossed his head back and laughed, and slammed backward, pressing his back into the seat. Alastor was quick to pull his hands back with a chuckle.

Vox's fans were whirring loudly. "You ahasshole, just finish fuckin' repairing me." "Oh I finished that ten minutes ago!" Alastor answered cheerfully, popping the back panel back into place in Vox's monitor.

Vox groaned, irritated.

"I still find it hard to believe you've never heard of tickling! Everyone knows about it. I'm even more surprised no one's ever found out by accident. Not even while reparing your monitor?"

"I fix myself, I don't trust anyone to touch me."

"You trusted me."

Vox turned his swivel chair around to face Alastor. "I did, yeah.."

Alastor tilted his head a little in curiosity. "And maybe you could trust me again. You never did tell me what got you so stressed." Vox rolled his eyes. "Yeah, because you started assaulting me before I could."

"Voxius."

"That's not- Did you just assign me a full name?"

"Yes, now quit stalling." Alastor said, latching a hand onto Vox's side. "WAIT-" He shouted before batting at his hand, huffing out chuckles. Alastor only crawled his hands up Vox's ribs before targeting his underarms.

"WAITFUCKTHATSWORSE!" He cackled out, slamming his arms down, trapping Alastor's hands. The Radio demon only chuckled. "You'll learn that when it comes to tickling, much like real fights, you're not supposed to let your opponent know exactly where your weak points are. Now I can do this." He stated before drilling his thumbs into Vox's underarms.

"FAHAHAHACK!" He shouted, kicking a leg out, much like a dog, whilst also trying to curl up in his chair to protect himself. "Thihihis ihihis rihihihidiculohohous!!"

"What's ridiculous is that you still haven't answered the question."

"YOHOU WOHONT LEHEHET MEHEHE!"

"Hm, fine." Alastor stopped and pulled his hands away. Vox tried to kick him but of course a tendril came out and grabbed his leg, as he expected.

Vox muttered something. "I'm sorry?" Alastor asked, leaning closer. Vox sighed. "I was worried." "About?"

"About you."

Alastor's eyes widened ever so slightly. Vox had been violently glitching out over him? "Why is that?" His voice was normal.

"You're my rival, so obviously I tuned in to watch the battle. I wanted to see if you'd get killed. Part of me obviously wanted it to happen, but when I saw that Angel snap your cane and actually hit you-" Alastor flinched at the memory, "Seeing you actually vulnerable like that.. I realized I didn't actually want to lose my one and only rival. As much as I hate ya, you do push me to come up with newer and better shows in order to compete with you."

"I... can't say I haven't thought the same thing. Because of you I have to write better scripts and find the best topics for my broadcast. Even though it's no question that I'm the best," he grinned as Vox frowned, "But I am the best because of you."

Vox wasn't sure what to say to that, having mixed feelings. Before he could overthink it, Alastor held a hand out. He took it, as the other demon helped him up. "Now, it's quite late, and you have a tight schedule, I'm sure." He opened the window, as a large tendril waited outside for Vox.

"I do appreciate you coming to check on me." He said before hurrying Vox out the window, as he sat on the tendril. "If you tell anyone I said that, I just might broadcast this newly discovered sensitivity of yours." He threatened.

There was the Alastor he knew and loved to hate.

"I won't, don't worry. I don't feel like explaining to anyone why I was over at your Radio Tower anyway. You hurry up and heal, Alastor, I want you in top shape for our next fight," He smirked, "Even I'm not low enough to kick someone while he's do-OOOWN-" The tendril suddenly dropped, pulling Vox down with it, where it would drop him off safely on the ground.

Alastor shut his window, and watched the TV show host leave down the hill. Never in a million years did he think Vox would ever trust him, nor did he ever think he'd help his rival.

But he couldn't deny that he had had a little fun that night, not only tickling him, but just talking and getting to know him a little.

This night might have made their rivalry slightly more complicated.

#sfw tickling community #tickle community #tickle fic #hazbin hotel tickle #hazbin tickles #lee!vox #ler!alastor

[mrsjellymunson]

Candyman, Candyman, Candyman

A Valentine’s Eddie Munson 5+1 fic

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!reader, Eddie Munson x gn!reader, Eddie Munson x masc!reader, Eddie Munson x you

Summary: The Valentines 5+1 that nobody asked for (not even me 😆) Five times you get to give Eddie a kiss, and one time he kisses you back

W/C: ~2.1k

C/W: SFW, FLUFF. Kissing, a pet name. This is pure fluff, but my blog is generally 18+ so I’d prefer it if you were over 18. Reader wears lipgloss. Reader and Eddie are both over 18. Inspired by this supersweet fic by @hellfirenacht which I hope it’s okay for me to mention! I wasn’t planning to write for Valentine’s, but here we are, so thanks for the inspo. Also, I should probably mention at this point that I have no idea how candygrams actually work 🫣

To anyone looking from the outside, you’re a preppy honours student, but you have a dark and curious side. You’re usually all pressed shirts, woven fabrics and tweed, but you’ve sometimes been known to wear those starched shirts pulled a little too tight, and you occasionally add a chain belt or some chunky boots.

You don’t tell anyone that on the weekends you like to experiment with heavy eyeliner and leather accessories. Or that you’ve been spending a lot of time recently staring at one fellow student in particular a little more than is absolutely polite.

So when you accidentally overhear a private conversation about a certain metalhead, and the opportunity for helping out with the school’s annual Valentine's fundraiser presents itself, you sign up as fast as you can.

Once a year the school allows students to organise cards and candygrams to be sent around for Valentine’s Day. It lasts the full school week, and the premise is fairly simple. The pink and red fliers have been floating around for weeks already, declaring:

MONDAY Send a lipstick kiss on a heart shaped card $1 TUESDAY Add a lollipop $2 WEDNESDAY Send a card and blow them a kiss! $3 THURSDAY Send a card, plus a kiss on the cheek! $4 FRIDAY For when you’re really serious! Send them a card, and a kiss on the lips! $5 Sign Up In The Cafeteria!

Only the week before, Eddie Munson had been on a tirade in the lunchroom about the commercialisation of human affection, and the unrealistic expectations of binary, monogamous relationships.

You think perhaps he shouldn’t be one to talk, given the content of that conversation that you eavesdropped on involves Eddie's band mates knowing he’s never been kissed. They’ve pooled their resources and plan to surprise him during Valentine’s week.

Everything’s anonymously ordered, so no one knows who’s sending things. And you’ve finagled a position on the volunteering committee that allows you to choose which volunteers deliver which messages. Handy.

You’ve also invested in a new red-tinted, strawberry flavour lipgloss. It’s all going well so far. The only thing you can’t predict is whether or not Eddie Munson likes strawberries…

Monday comes around quickly. Kisses on cards day. Quite a few have been ordered and there are lots to get delivered around the various classes, so there’s four of you from the fundraising committee delivering them to his class.

Thanks to your position on the committee, you know it’s your lipgloss on Eddie’s card. When you sidle past his desk to deliver it to him you watch him pull back slightly, his eyes open wide, shocked that anyone would send him anything. You guess he’s more used to pranks and jokes than any genuine affection, and it hurts your heart.

You want to give him a hint as to whose kiss is on his card. Trying to be as subtle as you can, and making sure he’s watching you, you catch his eye and bite the side of your lower lip ever so slightly. It puffs your lips out a bit and you see his attention is drawn to your mouth. Success?

There’s a general clamour in the class as recipients and observers alike wave their cards and ponder the potential senders, but Eddie’s quiet for once. He’s tentatively running his fingers over the edge of the card, not picking it up or pulling it towards him, treating it like it’s a potential threat. Just before your group leaves to attend another class, you see him subtly runs his fingertips over the shiny stain.

You don’t know it but later, when he’s alone, he brings the card up to his face to get a closer look at that lipgloss kiss, and he swears he can smell strawberries…

Tuesday means lollipop day. You and your fellow volunteers have more cards to deliver, this time accompanied by little heart shaped candies on sticks. Again, quite a few get delivered, and again, you make sure you’ve got Eddie’s.

As you enter his classroom for the second day in a row, your face is coy and you give him a little smirk. You make your way around the class, distributing cards and candies.

To Eddie’s ongoing surprise, you stop in front of his desk again. As you hand Eddie his card, there are a couple of whoops and hollers from his friends behind him. It’s not part of the deal, but you can’t resist, and before you pass Eddie’s candy to him you press one flat side of the lollipop to your lips, handing it over quickly afterwards, saying, “Enjoy your candy, Eddie.”

Wednesday - blow a kiss day. There’s fewer orders for this service, so only two of you today. You blow a couple of short kisses to others in the room, making it quick and perfunctory.

Again, Eddie’s shocked when you stop in front of his desk, seeming to look to each side of him in an attempt to work out whether you’ve really chosen him again. You pass him his third card, and when you blow Eddie his kiss, it’s slow and seductive, your lips pursing and smacking against your fingers, and you blow across them long and slow, making sure your breath reaches his face.

His classmates erupt, and Eddie’s certain he smells strawberries again…

Thursday. Kiss on the cheek day.

There are fewer orders today, and you're the only volunteer delivering to Eddie’s class. It’s a little awkward and you feel very ‘on show’, but as soon as you see Eddie is in class your desire to put your plan into action overrides any awkwardness.

You give one girl a peck on the cheek, she’s cute and blushes before saying a quiet, “Thank you.”

A jock on the other side of the room is next. He’s less gallant and tries to turn his head at the last moment, but you’re wise to such tricks and he doesn’t get the lip contact he wants, earning you a scowl from him and a round of applause from his cronies.

You can see Eddie’s friends almost vibrating with excitement as you turn and step towards him.

His cheeks flush and he squirms as he realises you’re stopping next to his desk. Again.

You try to reassure him, and say quietly, so almost no one else can hear, “Don’t worry, Eddie. I’ll be gentle with you.”

You bend at the waist, puckering your lips and slowly bringing them to his soft, milky white skin. You plant a slow, strawberry-scented peck to the side of his face, leaving a shimmering red stain just next to where you know your favourite dimple resides.

He turns almost the colour of your lipgloss, and the cheers of his classmates serenade you as you smile to yourself and leave the class for another day.

Friday - kiss day!

You’re thrilled that you’ve managed to wrangle everything so that you get to do a ‘five dollar’ delivery with Eddie. Your planning couldn’t have gone better.

You’re more excited than you would ever admit, a heat collecting in your belly as you try to walk as calmly as you can to his classroom.

He’s the only recipient today, making this a really big deal in front of the entire class.

There’s a couple of whistles and yelps as you enter, some of his classmates clearly aware of what’s to come.

You decide to tease the rest of the class a little, walking around the desks for effect, as everyone’s wondering who it’s going to be.

Eventually, you stop in front of Eddie’s desk. His friends are yelping the loudest, but the whole class is emitting a low chorus of ‘oooooooh’s.

Eddie holds his hands up, palms out in front of him, and, giving you - and, you suspect, him - an out, he mumbles quietly,

“Whoa. You know you don’t have to do this, right?”

He starts stuttering something about the patriarchy and antiquated societal notions of romantic expectations and subservience, but you’re barely listening, your concentration fully focused on his lips, practically salivating at the thought of finally getting close to those delicious, plump, pink pillows.

You give him what you hope is a reassuring and soft smile as you clasp your hands behind your back and begin to lean forwards.

Eddie leans back as you move. It must look comical to the outside observers as you lean in, eyes closed and lip pursed, as he moves backwards at the same rate, eyes as wide as saucers and doing a great impersonation of a rabbit in headlights.

Eventually, his back against his chair and his chin pulled down as far as it will go, he has nowhere left to run.

You keep leaning forward, the fronts of your thighs connecting with his desk helping to stabilise you.

Feeling your nose gently bump his, you turn your head almost imperceptibly and continue forwards, allowing them to slide past each other.

Your lips finally connect.

A tiny amount at first, barely touching, you feel your lower lip press against his, and then your upper.

His mouth is warm, his lips velvety and soft, not chapped and rough like some others.

It feels so good.

You press forwards a little more, connecting more of your flesh with his.

The whoops, hollers and whistles from the classmates fade from your hearing. You do however hear a tiny whimper from the boy in front of you, and you don’t know it but he’s closed his eyes.

You stay like this for a moment, you enjoying the sensation you’ve been dreaming about for weeks, Eddie sitting stiffly in front of you.

But then, with a soft moan that only you can hear, you feel Eddie’s lips relax and purse, and suddenly he’s kissing you back, gently and subtly, your lips moving in harmony, hot breaths mingling and surrounding you in a warm cloud.

After what feels like a delicious eternity, you hear the teacher loudly clearing their throat behind you, and you realise your time is more than up.

Although it’s probably only been about five seconds, it feels like it was long enough for your whole world to tip on its axis and stop spinning.

Reluctantly, you break the kiss and slowly stand back up, rolling your lower lip inwards a little and feeling your cheeks, and other areas, heating.

Behind him, Eddie gets slapped on the back by Jeff and Dougie, and Gareth is clapping loudly and shouting affirmations.

The room has erupted into a clamouring, yelling mess of applause, but neither you nor Eddie are paying much attention.

His lips roll inwards too, and the very tip of his pink tongue peeps out as if to taste you.

He gifts you an incredulous half smile, that dimple you love so much almost making an appearance.

You back away, bashfully, spinning on your heel before you turn back, almost forgetting the final part of your job, and add,

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Eddie.”

It’s the end of the week, and you’re in the parking lot after school. You’re standing with a gaggle of other volunteers, laughing, giggling, discussing how well the fundraising has gone, exchanging horror stories of some really bad kisses, and one person even trying to shove their tongue in.

Eddie waits until you’re on your own, heading to your car.

He steps beside you just as you reach your door.

“Hey, Candy.”

You turn, leaning back against your car, and you can’t help but smirk at the cheesy nickname.

“Hey, Eddie. Did you have a good Valentine’s Day?”

“Uh, yeah. I did, actually. Thanks to a certain someone. I mean, I know you can’t tell me who sent my gifts, kisser-client confidentiality and all that. But, I just wanted to say thanks.”

Your belly flips. He continues, waving a hand nonchalantly,

“You know, for all your hard work. With the fundraising, I mean.”

“Oh right, of course.”

For a moment you’re disheartened. You thought he might mean something else.

But then he steps closer, into your personal space, one of his large boots slotting between your pumps.

“I’d like to know if I could, uh, make another donation? How many kisses can I get for, say, twenty dollars?”

His warm, broad hands come up to ever so gently cup your cheeks, his thumbs tracing your cheekbones and his eyes flitting between your eyes and your mouth.

Your breathing stops as his face moves towards yours.

He pauses, and looks into your eyes one more time, as if waiting for your permission. When you hold his gaze and smile slightly, he moves his mouth until it’s over yours, slowly, gently connecting your lips again. It’s soft, sweet, delicious.

Unexpectedly, you feel the tip of his tongue gently skimming across your glossed lips, but you willingly part them to allow him access.

His tongue pushes past your lips and enters your mouth, slow, tentative, gentle. You hear him moan slightly again, and feel the vibrations against your lips.

Your tongue comes to meet his, your lips and tongues sliding comfortably and dancing together. It’s in the oh-so-romantic situation of the parking lot, but neither of you care.

You reach to grab at his belt loops, pulling his hips flush against yours, just as he breaks the kiss and looks at you, smiling. His lips are glossy and glittering with your lipgloss, and you both smell of strawberries.

You like it.

Breathily, you smile at him, as your arms come up to hook around the back of his neck, and say, just before he leans down for another kiss,

“For you, Eddie? There's no charge…”

Thank you so much for reading!

Please reblog if you enjoyed this.

A/N & disclaimer: I don't agree that peer or societal pressure should be used to coerce or force anyone into doing anything they don’t want to do. And absolutely no one should have their first (or indeed any) kiss forced upon them in public. But this idea burrowed into my brain and I had to run with it. This is fiction - I cannot stress that enough - and if anyone demands you do anything like this with them, in public or private, without your full and ongoing consent you can and absolutely should refuse.

Also, I have an ‘Everything Taglist’ now, so if you’d like to be on it to see more stuff by me let me know!

Taglist: @joejoequinnquinn @jamdoughnutmagician

#eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x gn!reader #Eddie munson x masc!reader #eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson x reader #joseph quinn #valentines fic #valentines fluff #kissing fic #candygram #eddie munson x you #Eddie munson x f!reader #Eddie munson x m!reader #kissing Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson imagine

[it-happened-one-fic]

Even If The World Itself Should Fall Down - Malleus (Glorious Masquerade)

Author Notes: So, I've been having a lot of fun reading Glorious Masquerade and I saw an opening and received encouragement from friends to just go ahead and write some fics for this event. So this one is Malleus's and it was written to the “As the World Falls Down” cover by Grace Potter. The dance in this fic was inspired by Andrei and Natasha’s waltz scene from Episode 3 of BBC’s “War and Peace” (2016). As per usual, reader is gender-neutral. I hope you enjoy!

Type: Gender-neutral reader/ sfw/ Glorious Masquerade/ romance/ some pining/ fluff/ dancing

Word Count: 1338

It was the part of the trip everyone had been waiting for, but I found myself still lost in my own thoughts about everything that had occurred since coming to Fleur City. 

A plot regarding the supposed evils of magic, the flames, the flowers, the ringing of the bell, and everything else.

 It was almost too much to process, even considering the fact I’d seen overblots. Perhaps the most distracting thing was the fact that I was so relieved. No one had died, lost their magic, or ended up horribly injured, and the matter had been resolved. 

I leaned against the wall, sighing slightly as people swirled past me in the midst of the masquerade. Either classmates and friends or the people who attended this school or one of the other magic academies themselves. 

It was a swirling eddy of rich fabrics and masked faces.

I had never truly pictured myself in such an opulent scene, and it felt only right, in a great many respects, that I remained on the sidelines. Grim had long since slunk off in search of food and left me alone to watch everyone else.

But I didn’t remain alone for long, as a tall figure soon came cutting their way through the crowd.

Malleus approached with unhesitating steps, my view of him occasionally blocked by a couple twirling by even as he walked towards me. A slight smile was on his face as he drew closer until he emerged from the dancers to stand in front of me.

His hand that had been holding his mask this whole time lowered so that I could clearly see his face as he bent slightly at the waist and held out his other gloved hand with a smile that curved easily across his face, “May I?” 

I blinked at him, half-surprised, before a smile slid onto my face. Because, of course, he wouldn’t leave me stranded all on my own. He knew loneliness well and had no doubt felt sympathy for me the very moment he’d seen me standing on my own.

“I don’t really know the steps,” I warned teasingly, even as I slipped my hand into his. His gloved fingers curled carefully over my hand as he pulled me away from the wall and towards him.

“Then I shall guide you; you need only trust me, Child of Man,” And as he spoke there was a certain villainy to his smile. Almost like he was proud that I’d accepted his offer, as if I’d rejected others. 

It was amusingly similar to a dragon that had found itself a new treasure to hoard all to itself, and I shook my head amusedly but let him lead me out onto the floor. Carefully guiding me around and between other dancing duos who slowly began to look our way with either surprised or intrigued expressions. 

Despite the way I glanced around, Malleus’s eyes stayed on me until we reached the center of the floor, directly under the chandler.

I turned to face him, my hand still in his as I looked at his face. And he had, at long last, looked away from me to carefully enter our dancer’s hold. 

One of his hands on my waist as the other arm was bent around so that it was pressed firmly against his own back, while I had one hand resting lightly on his shoulder and the other held out to hold my clothes out of the way of our footsteps.

Bright green eyes slowly shifted to look at me, and I was close enough to even see his eyelashes fluttering slightly as he met my gaze. The slightest of smiles on his face before he stepped forward, and I stepped back to the very first strings of this new song.  

It was an older style of dance; I could tell that much from the fact he had one arm pressed to his back, which wasn’t part of any modern style, and a part of me wondered if it was a form from the Valley of Thorns. 

From what Sebek had told me, the people there were partial to what many might refer to as more vintage aspects of life.

But I wasn’t complaining; there was something especially lovely about this type of waltz. And I found myself smiling as Malleus pivoted us around the room.

We spiraled around, remaining in the center of the room as the other dancers moved back and away from us. Eyeing us and no doubt questioning why exactly I, of all people, was dancing with the famed and typically feared Malleus Draconia.

After all, I was no one special, and he was the heir to the throne of the Valley of Thorns. An odd couple, to say the least.

As we entered a particularly long set of rotations, Malleus extended the arm he’d had behind his back. Humming slightly as I almost instinctively shifted my hand from his shoulder to his now-free hand.

His fingers curled over and enveloped my hand, as he also shifted to the side so that we were joined only by our arms, which crossed over each other’s chests, as we faced each other and we continued to spin. Almost parallel to one another.

I exhaled softly, relaxing the longer the two of us danced, and I realized that I really could trust him to lead me through this entire dance even though I didn’t know the steps.

As the music slowed and quieted, he drew me closer so that he was once more directly in front of me, though his hand still gripped mine with a quiet gentleness.

I swallowed slightly, briefly glancing away from him and the soft smile on his face, before I managed to speak. 

“I never have really thanked you for diving after me when the floor collapsed,” My voice was soft, and his lips twitched slightly. Almost like he was amused by my words.

“But of course,” He spoke softly as well. Matching my tone in a way that made our words feel like a secret between only the two of us.

Our motions continued to slow until we were simply turning a slow circle and looking at each other even as everyone else kept spiraling, and I shook my head slightly, “No, thank you… Really.”

Something in his gaze softened slightly as he continued to stare at me, and I tilted my head, smiling, “It’s nice that this masquerade could still take place with everything that happened…. The firelotuses and our trip almost getting ruined, I mean.”

I felt his grip on my hand tighten slightly as he inclined his head slightly, almost like he wanted to well and truly keep his next words so that they were just between the two of us. A tender secret not to be shared with anyone else. Be they a close friend or a bodyguard.

“It matters not what collapses. Be it the floor beneath us or even if the world itself should fall down, I will be there for you, Child of man.” I blinked up at him, feeling my eyes widen at his soft words.

At odds with my speechlessness, he smiled. Looking perfectly delighted as he slowly began to speed our motions back up, until we were whirling around the room once more. Center stage as his smile stayed ever-present. It wasn’t long until, even with his words still floating around in my mind, we both started to laugh.

At first, just a chuckle and then soft laughter as we waltzed around, drawing everyone’s gazes as they questioned what sort of secret we shared that so amused us. But it wasn’t truly laughter at something amusing. Rather, it was relieved laughter at the realization that even if everything else in the world fell away, we had one another.

Falling together just as we’d fallen together through the burning flowers, and falling towards each other as each step of our dance pulled us closer towards that beautiful dream known as love.

#Twisted wonderland imagines #Malleus x reader #briarvalleyarchives #Malleus draconia #Glorious masquerade #glomas #twisted wonderland x reader #malleus draconia x reader #gender neutral reader #fluff #romance #dance #twst #Malleus x you #Malleus x y/n #twisted wonderland x you #twisted wonderland x y/n #twst x reader #twst x you #twst x y/n #Disney TW #mywritings #it-happened-one-fic #fanfiction #disney fanfiction #dance fic #waltz #as the world falls down #yes it is the song from labyrinth #love