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flowersandbigteeth · 2 months

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Looking for a saucy medieval tradition to weave into your historical romances? Have no fear, foot-of-the-gallows marriage is here! Basically, if a man was about to be hanged and a woman stepped forward and said “I will marry this man!” he was spared because it was was seen as like “oh, she’ll rehabilitate him so we don’t have to kill him.” Now, I heard this from tiktok, so I could be wrong, and it could just be a folk tale or something that rarely happened in actuality. Either way, it’s a cool troupe I think more people should use (and I myself will be using). I think it would work really well with Orcs and Elves!

This is such an intriguing idea! I had to try it. If you end up writing it, tag me, if you are comfortable! I'd love to see what you do with it ^_^

I keep getting Orc ideas, and I can't resist them *feral invasive Orc thoughts* （￣ｗ￣）Ψ

Orc (Saber) x GN elf reader

Word Count: 6K

TW: discussion of hanging, bad mother, sfw Orc fluff, a bit of melancholy with a happy ending, nonsexual mention of private body parts in the context of bathing

“Goodness, what’s this all about?” you grumbled, clutching your basket closer to you as you made your way through the crowd.

The stench of rotten vegetables and too many people lingered in the air.

“It’s a hanging,” a helpful imp beamed, hopping on his tiptoes to see over the crowd. Why people gathered all around to watch someone die, you had no idea, but more importantly, the crowd was blocking your path home. Industrious vendors selling ale and popcorn wove through the throng to collect what coins they could from the event. In the capital, everyone had a hustle, and few left the chance to make some money at the table.

“Out of the way!” You shouted, shouldering whoever was unlucky enough to be in your way.

The voice of the city guardsman who was reading off a list of offenses to the crowd drowned yours out, but with a few well-placed shoves, you managed to make it to the front. You were looking around, trying to figure out how to get across the plaza, when you glanced up to see a familiar face.

“It’s you!” you blurted as your eyes locked with the brilliant chartreuse irises of the Orc standing on the gallows.

He gave you a wan smile, lifting his tied hands to wave at you. His straight nose was up in the air as if all the rabble around him should be fortunate to have the privilege of watching him die. The thick olive locs you remembered being long had been roughly chopped short around his ears. Still, even dressed in an ill-fitting prison jumpsuit, he had a regal air about him. His barrel chest was puffed, strong muscles peaking between the frayed fabric.

“Fifty counts of robbery…25 counts of counterfeiting gold coins…seven counts of horse theft…”

The Orc you’d met before’s name was Saber. He’d helped you get your broken cart into town one rainy afternoon…, and then he’d also stolen your necklace, which you’d realized after he’d disappeared.

“As per the King’s edict, If any citizen pledges to save this soul from the gallows by way of marriage, please step forth.”

Though he was handsome, no one raised their hands to save him. Instead, they all booed. Judging by the rotten vegetables hurled at him, he seemed to have robbed almost everyone in the capital.

“Aye!” you shouted, hiking up your pants to pull yourself onto the stage.

The guardsmen’s eyebrows shot up when you’d straightened yourself.

“I’ll marry the sorry bastard.”

“Are you sure? He’ll most likely rob you and run off. He’s better off dead.”

“I have business with this one,” you informed him, snapping your fingers. “Come on then. Let’s get this over with.”

The guardsman shrugged and jerked the noose off of his neck, a little disappointed. The crowd wasn’t happy either, hurling insults along with their vegetables.

“Quiet! Quiet!” the guardsman shouted after shoving Saber forward for the “ceremony.”

He took a deep breath, jerking a notebook out of his pocket.

“Alright,” he began, snorting. “State your name for the record.”

“(Y/N).”

“Lovely elven name,” he murmured as he jotted it down. “Now then, do you (Y/N) take this here, criminal, Saber Wintermaple to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

You gave him a sharp nod.

“I do.”

He swung a lazy eye at Saber.

“Do you Saber Wintermaple, take this kind elf to be your betrothed?”

He gave you a bright smile.

“I do.”

The guardsman snapped the book closed, shoving Saber towards you.

“I hereby declare you two duly betrothed under the King’s law. This Orc is your problem now, citizen. You’d better keep him out of trouble, or you’ll be up here next to him!”

He handed you the thick rope looped around the binding, keeping Saber’s hands tied, and waved you two off. The audience, bored without bloodshed, had already started dispersing, making it easy for you to tug Saber towards the road leading to the forest.

“I didn’t know I made such a pleasant impression,” Saber said cheerfully, following you out of town.

You whirled around and jammed a finger in his face.

“I wouldn’t describe it as pleasant. You owe me a gold necklace! Give it back, or you can work off the coin you owe me!”

He chuckled.

“I’m fresh out of coins, little elf.”

He scratched his chin and looked up, thinking.

“I’m pretty sure I lost that necklace in a game of dice.”

He shrugged.

“You lost my only possession of any value in a game of dice?”

You scrubbed your hand over your face, counting back from ten so you didn’t explode.

“Maybe I should have let you die.”

Frowning, you looked over him from toe to head.

“At least you look strong enough. I’m sure I can find something useful for you to do!”

You stopped where the two of you stood in the middle of the trail and pulled a small charm from your basket.

“I was going to use this on my coin purse since there was a thief on the loose, but it’s probably better applied to you!”

You looped the charm around his neck, closing your eyes to whisper the spell. A gust of spirit wind, fluffed your hair as the magic twirled around Saber. When you opened your eyes again, there was a blue thread linking the two of you that only you could see.

“What was that?” he asked, narrowing his eyes on you.

“It’s a binding spell, so you can’t run off with my stuff again,” you explained.

His eyebrows jumped, and he tugged at the little talisman around his neck.

“It won’t come off.”

You nodded proudly.

“Exactly.”

He took a moment to examine you carefully, tapping his chin again.

“Interesting,” he murmured.

“What? What does that mean?”

He smiled and shrugged.

“Lead the way, spouse.”

You sighed, turning and pulling him through the bumpy trail in the woods to your little home. When you’d fled your homeland to the Capital, you’d been lucky to find an abandoned cottage outside the city walls. It wasn’t massive, with only the basic living quarters, but it must have at some point belonged to someone’s Saber’s size, as the door and counters were much too high. You’d spent much of the money you earned selling charms and ointments, buying stools and ladders to reach things.

“You poor thing,” Saber sighed as you passed through the magic barrier you’d cast to keep your home hidden from bandits.

“You don’t need to patronize me,” you huffed. “You’re the one almost hanged and run out of town.”

He ignored you, looking around.

“I feel kind of bad for stealing your necklace now that I’ve seen where you live. This place is a mess.”

You examined your home, trying to see it through his eyes. Every available surface was covered in books, alchemy equipment, or ingredients. Even the chairs were covered in cast-off scrolls, books, or charms.

“It’d be nice to have a workshop,” you admitted. “But that’s much too expensive.”

You straightened your slumping shoulders and lifted your chin.

“No matter, you won’t be spending much time sitting down. I’ve got loads of things that need doing.”

He gave you a sharp nod and held out his hands.

“You’ll have to untie me if you want me to work.”

Pulling a small blade from your basket, you sawed through the thick binding. Free to move as he pleased, he wrung his stiff wrists as he perused your living room. Occasionally he would pick something up, then put it down again, finally crouching to examine a bucket filled with water.

“What are you doing?”

He peered up at the leak in the roof that was letting rainwater drip through.

“This needs fixing, or the roof will rot out.”

Pushing off of his knees, he turned to you.

“How long have you been living alone?”

You blushed, embarrassed.

“I dunno, my whole life, I guess. The elven town where I came from didn’t have an orphanage or anything, so when I was old enough, I took off toward the capital. It took a while to get here…but here I am. I thought there would be more…I don’t know…opportunity here.”

“How has that worked out for you? Living in a house clearly not meant for you and marrying a man on the gallows.”

You gave him an indignant snuff.

“At least I’m not a thief!”

He chuckled, leaning against a bookshelf, rolling a gold coin on his knuckles. Your eyes narrowed on it, and you reached in your pocket to find you’d been relieved of your day’s earnings.

“Hey! You stole that!”

He laughed, revealing straight white teeth, and jingled the other coins in his pocket.

“Don’t worry, I can’t get away with it, right?”

You sucked in a deep annoyed breath.

“I have things to do. Make yourself useful and chop some wood. It’s going to be cold when the sun sets.”

“Whatever you say, spouse,” he replied, giving you a sarcastic salute as you dropped your basket and hurried to the kitchen to get started on dinner.

What had you been thinking marrying a criminal? You paused for a moment, eyes growing misty. You didn’t really think he still had your necklace, did you? You let out a sigh just short of a sob. Were you really that lonely? Maybe it hurt that he’d been so kind to you, just to trick you. You should have been happy to see him hanged, yet the lingering magic that followed all elves had whispered that you ought to save him.

But why? You weren’t in any position to support a husband. Though you’d instructed yourself on the knowledge of various potions and charms, you weren’t the only one. The city was teaming with Academy-bred alchemists who far surpassed your skill. They had access to rare ingredients and an army of assistants. You had to scrape out a living selling your wares far cheaper than the competition even to get noticed at the market. Hustling day to day, you certainly didn’t have the time or money to pretty yourself up to find a partner.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” you grumbled, returning to chopping tubers for soup.

A thick THWACK, drew your eyes out the kitchen window to Saber splitting logs across the lawn. He’d divested himself of his ratty shirt, and every thick muscle was on display as he lifted the ax over his head and dropped it down again. The logs felt apart like they were nothing more than twigs under his might.

Your eye focused on the dark, wet slashes across his shoulder blades where his jailors had beaten him. He must have felt your eyes on him because he glanced up and waved. Blushing, you hurriedly pulled the curtains, returning to your task.

Unable to get his injuries out of your mind, you felt bad for making him chop wood while he was hurt. When you’d plopped the tubers into your cooking pot, you gathered up some healing and numbing salves, making your way out the door.

“Need something?” he asked, looking up from his task.

“Sit down,” you barked.

A thick eyebrow rose, and he tipped his head.

“Why? Planning on lobbing my head off?”

You wrinkled your nose at him.

“No, of course not! You’re massive. How would I even go about burying your body? I can’t have a rotting corpse stinking up the place. Just sit!”

He leaned his axe against the stump he was using to brace the wood and sat down on it. You dug in your basket, pulling out some cleanser to clean the wounds. Beside the big ugly gashes, Saber’s skin was a smooth, pretty green, the planes of his muscles sharp and defined. The first brush of your hand on his back made him jump.

“S-sorry,” you muttered.

“‘Ts fine. Just not used to people touching me. Go on.”

You spread the thick gel you used carefully over each angry line.

“What do you mean? You’ve never had a partner before me?”

He paused for a moment before he jerked his head.

“I had a girlfriend once, but she left me.”

“Why?”

“Some noble offered her his hand and well…I couldn’t compete.”

He sighed.

“She was happy to keep me on as her side piece, but I’ve got too much of an ego to be someone’s toy.”

Your eyebrows jumped at his candor, but you just hummed, plastering clean wraps to his skin so the wounds could heal. His skin was warm under your fingers, making the tips tingle. When you were done, you found yourself tipping forward on your toes to peck the back of his neck. When you’d realized what you’d done, your ears burned, and you coughed loudly.

“Sorry, ah…sorry,” you muttered, unsure what to say. “You’re…ah…going to have to sleep on your stomach, so you don’t make these worse.”

He swiveled around to look at you, smiling.

“Thanks, doc!”

“I’m not a doctor.”

He shrugged.

“What’s the difference?”

“Ten years of special-”

You shook your head, realizing he was teasing you.

“I think that’s enough wood for tonight. Come inside. Dinner’s almost ready.”

He grinned at you, his stomach grumbling, as he scooped up some of the wood he’d cut and tucked it under one arm. You wondered how much they let him eat in prison, worried he was starving.

“What’d my sweet little spouse cook for me?” he asked.

“Just some sweet potato soup. It’s not gourmet.”

He frowned.

“No meat?”

You blinked at him.

“You have all the money I made today in your pocket. How can I afford meat with those few coins?”

He nodded, appearing to be thinking through the problem thoroughly.

When you returned inside, you dipped the two of you bowls of soup, filling his twice as much as yours. You assured yourself it was because he couldn’t work without proper nutrition, not because you liked him.

“So how far does this magic thingie let me go?” he asked as you sat down at the table.

“Why, trying to run off?”

He smirked.

“No, why would I want to run away from you?”

He chewed on a big spoonful of sweet potatoes before he continued.

“I’ve got a cute little spouse who makes me dinner and kisses my cuts.”

Your cheeks blew up in flames, and you choked on a mouthful of soup. You tried to retain your composure by quickly wiping your mouth with a napkin.

“A couple of miles in any direction.”

“Wow, didn’t think you’d give me such a long leash.”

You shrugged.

“I can’t be right at your side every minute.”

He gave you the biggest puppy dog eyes you’d ever seen.

“You don’t want me by your side every minute of the day?”

Unsure if he was joking or not, you jerked your spoon at his soup.

“Let’s…stop talking for a while. Eat up. You’ll need your strength.”

While the two of you ate quietly, you did your best to keep your eyes on your bowl. Every time you happened to glance up, he was watching you with an odd smile on his face. Almost like satisfaction.

You were relieved when you finally finished and could turn your back on him to rinse the dishes.

“You can take the bed if you want,” you called over your shoulder as you stood on your tip toes to return the bowls to the cabinet. As your arm stretched, Saber appeared behind you, plucking the dishes out of your hand and easily placing them where they were supposed to go.

“Where are you going to sleep?” he asked, extending a hand to help you off of the little ladder you were perched on.

“There’s a couch in the living room.”

He wrinkled his nose.

“It’s covered in stuff.”

You shrugged, trying to hurry past him.

“I’ll clean it up.”

You found your feet swinging in the air as he picked you up and tossed you over his shoulder.

“Wh-what are you doing?”

“My spouse is not sleeping on the sofa. I never thought I’d have a spouse, so I’ve got to take proper care of you.”

He patted your butt for emphasis.

“Are you crazy?” you snapped, only not banging on his back with your fists because he was injured. “We can’t sleep together! We just met!”

Your body bounced on his shoulder as he chuckled.

“You weren’t concerned with that when you insisted on marrying me!”

“They were going to kill you!”

He flopped you down on your bed, caging you in with his big arms. His head dipped to drag the tip of his nose along the length of your neck.

“So you do like me!” he whispered into your skin.

“I do not,” you huffed, pushing his chest.

Though your muscles did nothing to move him, he rose so you could scoot out across the bed. You quickly scrambled into the bathroom to change into your pajamas.

When you came back out, Saber was slipping off his pants.

“What are you doing now?” You gasped, cheeks heating at the sight of the thick shaft hanging between his legs.

He glanced up, a slight smirk on his face as he folded his clothes.

“I can't sleep in these prison clothes. I'll get the sheets all dirty!”

You sighed, rubbing your eyes. He was right. He was filthy from sleeping on dirty straw in prison.

“Come on,” you said, flicking two fingers at him. “You need a bath. You’re probably covered in fleas!

Fortunately, your house came equipped with one large enough to fit Saber’s big body. With a flick of your fingers, the tub was filled, and with a few whispers of a spell, the water was hot.

“Get in,” you said.

Making himself comfortable, he looked back at you over his shoulder, an eyebrow raised.

“You tryin’ to watch? Naughty little elf!”

You let out a long sigh.

“No, I’m just going to ensure you don’t get your bandages wet, or it will all have been a waste. Supplies are expensive,” you huffed, picking up the sponge. “Now, sit still!”

Saber smirked but let you lift each of his arms as you scrubbed him.

“So how did your old girlfriend take it when you decided you wouldn’t be your affair partner?”

He glanced at you, eyes ever thoughtful. His long look brought heat to your cheeks.

“Sorry, you don’t have to answer that.”

He shrugged, his jaw tightening.

“She was rather smug. She spent her whole life wishing to elevate herself.”

A long sigh slipped past his lips.

“I could never make her happy. I lied, cheated, stole; whatever I could do…but she looked down her nose at all of it.”

Your mouth fell open.

“I’m…I’m sorry. You don’t have to…”

He waved a thick hand, his warm palm gently landing on your head and lightly ruffling your hair.

“Think nothing of it. It’s kind of nice to get it off my chest.”

“So that’s why you're a crook? To make her happy?”

He smirked.

“I was a crook. Now I’m a married man. I can’t get into trouble. I have a spouse who relies on me.”

He pinched your chin.

“Prison was difficult enough without knowing I was missing out on such a cute little face. Now, it would crush me.”

Your cheeks burned even hotter, and you jerked your head away, grabbing the nearest towel and tossing it to him.

“Careful, don’t jostle your bandages,” you wheezed before making your escape. “Whoever lived here before left some clothes in the chest by the door. They ought to fit.”

You were so busy slowing your beating heart that you blew out the lantern and slid into your bed without thinking Saber would soon follow. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to feign sleep, when you heard his heavy footsteps approach. He paused for a moment, doing Goddess knows what, before he carefully laid down next to you.

The mattress dipped under his weight, and your body slid into his. You heard him draw in a sharp breath as your warm forms pressed together.

“Mind your wounds. Make sure you sleep on your side,” you whispered into the darkness.

You felt him adjust slightly, and then a heavy arm draped over your waist. Despite yourself, it was warm and the weight felt nice. Comforting. Now that he’d used your soap, he smelled like home. His breath brushed the hairs on your neck and another arm slid underneath you to use as a pillow. You would have pulled away, but you’d never slept so close to someone before.

Living on the street for most of your life, left you with scars. You didn’t realize how deep they’d cut you until Saber’s large body curled around yours. You felt safe.

When you woke the next morning, the bed next to you was empty. Your heart thumped heavily in your chest, wondering where he’d gone. Had it all been a dream?

The pile of dirty prison clothes folded and placed on top of a chest proved that it had not.

Breathing slowly, in the meditation you’d taught yourself, you stretched your awareness out, reaching for the blue thread. Saber was half a mile from you. You wondered what he could possibly be doing.

“Orc things, probably,” you muttered, making your way to the bathroom to clean yourself up.

It wasn’t like he could run off; there was nothing in that direction but trees. Through the window, you could see the sun up over the tree line, telling you that you’d slept much later than usual.

Usually, you’d have left at sunrise to sell your wares in the Capital market, but it was far too late now. Instead, you grabbed an apple from the kitchen and started fussing with your alchemy materials. Now that Saber was living with you, you were sure you needed to straighten up so he didn’t break something.

Walking across the room, you automatically skipped around the bucket on the floor; only the bucket was gone. You frowned, but looking at the ceiling, someone had replaced one of the boards with a fresh one. Had Saber done that while you were sleeping?

You huffed, returning to straightening your books. At least he’s putting himself to work.

You were trying to remember the order in which a pair of books written in ancient elven were arranged alphabetically when the bell above your door jingled.

Since your home was hidden with magic, the bell told you someone was nearby. It was a charm you rarely used. No one had any reason to look for you. The most it had rung was when you ordered a special cauldron or tomb and happened to have the cash to have it delivered.

Curious if a traveler was lost, you put your books down and wandered outside.

“Morning, spouse!”

Saber’s voice made you jump when he appeared hauling a deer on his shoulders.

“What’s that?”

He shrugged the creature off of his shoulders.

“Meat!” he announced proudly.

You nodded at him, your eyes catching on his bare chest, glazed with a sheen of sweat.

“Where are you off to?” he asked.

“Someone is here,” you murmured, forcing your gaze from the sharp planes of his muscles to continue down the path.

A shadow draped over you, and you glanced up to see him looming.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m going with you. It could be someone dangerous.”

You shook your head but continued on your way with him in tow.

“Helloooo? Helllloooo?”

A female voice was screaming through the trees. When you rounded the bend, your eyes landed on an expensive carriage and a beautiful fairy shouting at the top of her lungs. Her pink hair fell in glittering curls around her shoulders, and matching wings emerged from her back.

“Damn it! Saber! Where the fuck are you?”

“Can I help you?” you asked as you stepped through your magic barrier.

Her eyes narrowed, but not on you. She looked directly behind you.

“Saber! There you are!”

She grinned, fluttering her winds and flying past you. Irritation immediately pricked your heart as the woman threw her arms around him. Turning around, you found him looking at her with wide eyes.

“Melody…what are you doing here? How did you find me?”

“I’m here to see you, of course. I heard you were going to be hung, but an elf saved you! I asked around the market and was told you’d been taken here. I was so worried!”

When she cupped his chin with her delicate hand, you crossed your arms, eyes narrowing.

“Not someone. Me.” you interjected.

You marched towards Saber and grabbed him by the arm.

“Saber is my husband. Who are you?”

She wrinkled her nose at you, ignoring your question. Her hand slid down Saber’s chest despite you.

“Is there someplace we can talk? Privately?”

Saber’s shocked face tightened.

“I don’t think that’s an appropriate ask in front of my spouse, Melody.”

She scoffed.

“You’ve been married…what? 8 hours? Saber, I think I more than deserve a little of your time. Especially as the mother of your child.”

Your jaw dropped, and your hand pulled away from Saber. It was true, you’d only known him for a few hours, but a child was something he ought to have mentioned.

His brow drew, looking between you and her.

“What child?”

She huffed, frowning at you.

“Fine…If you must do this, this way.”

She turned to the carriage and yelled.

“Nora, bring the baby!”

A maid climbed out of the carriage holding a small whimpering bundle. You gasped as the woman presented Saber with a little green newborn.

Saber’s eyes popped, his mouth opening and closing as the maid pressed the child into his hands.

“This…he…is mine?”

Melody nodded.

“Yes, and it’s time for you to take responsibility.”

He glanced up at her.

“You want to get back together?”

She let out a cruel but trilling laugh.

“Oh heavens no. I need you to take him. Dante hasn’t seen him yet. He thinks I’ve delivered his child. I had the maids tell him I was recovering for the past month so I could sneak him out. If he finds out I’ve been carrying your baby this whole time, he’ll throw me out on the street!”

Anger roiled under your skin.

“So what baby are you going to present to him?” you demanded.

She snorted as if that were a foolish question.

“I’ll get a baby from the slums. Plenty of mothers would happily give their child the life of a Lord’s son without question.”

She fluttered her iridescent wings.

“It only need be a fairy child.”

You could see the pain and confusion settle on Saber’s face. Stepping between the two of them, you gently pried the bundle out of Saber’s hands, looking at his cute little button nose and glossy baby curls.

“Of course, we will take him, but on one condition.”

She glanced at you.

“What do you want? Money?”

You let out a tight chuff.

“No. We never want to see you again. If he is our baby, he is ours. Don’t think you can change your mind and come running back here looking for him or Saber. The second you step foot in your carriage, this child and my husband are dead to you.”

Her eyes jerked to Saber.

“Saber. You can’t mean that. Of course, I want to see you…Dante, however, can’t know. You understand, don't you? This is everything we've dreamed about! You ought to support me!"

You scoffed, rolling your eyes.

"I grew up in the gutter, too," you hissed. "But I'd never treat someone the way you have treated my husband. He is too good for you and I won't tolerate you buzzing around us like a nasty fly."

She glared at you.

"He's my child! You're just jealous Saber and I have history!"

Saber's jaw locked, and he put his arm around you, giving her a disgusted grimace.

“Have you named him?” he asked.

She looked contrite but lifted her chin.

“I…ah…it didn’t occur to me...”

He nodded and glanced down at you, holding his child.

“Then…I agree with (Y/N). You’ll never know his name. You’ll never see him grow. You’ll never return to ruin our peace.”

“But Saber-”

“Don’t say my husband’s name, either.” you snapped. “You thought you’d come here and drop all of your responsibilities in his lap and then keep stringing him along as a toy? It’s not going to work like that. You have your family, and we have ours.”

You jerked your chin at her.

“Make your choice. Either leave the child or be prepared to explain to your husband who he belongs to. Those are the only options.”

Her pretty face contorted into an ugly, wrinkled mask, and she lifted her skirt to turn on her heels.

“Fine! It’s not like I want the child of a thief anyway!”

Snapping at her maid, she hovered back to her carriage, and they disappeared down the road in a cloud of dust. You smiled down at the little baby, who’d managed to sleep through the drama.

“Saber, I know I shouldn’t have spoken for you…I just- He deserves better than to grow up with the knowledge his mother believes him to be less than. Can you imagine him living as her secret? Sneaking around to hide him? If she passed him in the street, she’d ignore him to preserve her status. He’d be heartbroken. I won’t let that happen. I hope I didn’t overstep, but I’m not sorry for it.”

He dropped to his knees, eyes wet, and pushed his head into your shoulder. His big arms wrapped around your waist, squeezing you tight.

“You said just the right thing,” he murmured, then turned his head to look at his son. “What should we name him?”

You smiled at him.

“Let’s talk it over over lunch.”

The two of you walked back down the path together, both having a hard time keeping your gaze off the baby. He wriggled in his sleep, making you both see hearts.

“Maybe we should move,” you murmured. “Just to be sure…and to give him a fresh start.”

He looked down at you.

“You won’t miss this place?”

You sighed.

“No…this is just a house. We have a family now. He should grow up in a happy little town, not the capital…we’ll have to save for a few months, but I think we can do it.”

“We don’t have to save. I have plenty of money.”

You froze in your tracks, looking up at him.

“What? I thought you said you were broke?”

He smiled down at you.

“I meant I didn't have any coin on me. I didn’t just piss all of my ill-gotten gains away. I hid them. Follow me.”

He tugged the two of you into the forest, walking quite a ways until you reached an oddly placed rock. Saber crouched down and uprooted a bush with a stiff jerk. Then he cleared the soil away, revealing a wooden chest. He turned the little dial a few ways until it clicked, and the chest opened with a creak. Your eyes widened at the hundreds of gold coins piled inside. He casually tugged the gold he’d lifted from you out of his pocket and tossed it inside with a metallic clink.

“I think we can buy a nice place with this.”

You were still completely confused. He rummaged around in the coins, producing the gold necklace he’d stolen. Standing, he fastened it around your neck with the nimble fingers of a thief.

“I thought you lost it gambling?”

He shrugged.

“I lied.”

“Why did you keep it?”

He gave you a long look.

“I’m not sure, to be honest. Something told me not to sell it.”

“But…what about the rest? I thought you gave it all to Melody?”

“I tried to…we grew up in the capital, in the same slums she wants to buy a baby from. It wasn’t ever about what I could provide her. She wanted to erase her past. She wanted a title…to be a lady, to be able to lift her nose at the very people she grew up with.

I started saving after she failed at her first attempt at seducing some highborn. At the time, I had this romantic dream that I could surprise her with a big house, start a business, and be the Lord she wanted so badly…but… as time passed, I realized I was already tainted in her eyes. She wanted the right blood attached to her money. It took me too long to be ready to pull away. Dante was the nail in the coffin, so to speak.”

He tugged the chest from the ground, hauling it onto his shoulder before leading you back through the forest.

“Even though I knew I wasn’t enough…I foolishly still loved her. I was a mess when he proposed. That’s why I got caught. I went on a bender that lasted most of a year…Fortunately, I never touched this. Maybe I held out hope since Melody still entertained my attention…but I got sloppy and ended up in jail.”

His gaze dropped to the baby.

“If it weren’t for you, I wouldn't have ever known about him. Anything could have happened to him if you hadn’t-”

He choked a bit, a couple of tears slipping down his cheek. You didn’t push him to finish his sentence. You knew what he was trying to say.

“What about Arel?” you asked.

“Arel? That sounds like an Elvin name.”

You smiled at the little baby’s chubby cheeks.

“It is…it means ‘treasure’.”

He stopped, bending down to examine his son more closely. The baby’s eyes opened, and you saw that they were the same pretty chartreuse as his father’s. The two of them looked at one another in awe.

“I like Arel,” he said, brushing a thick finger over his cheek.

Arel’s big eyes grew wet, and he started to croon.

Shock and worry bloomed on Saber’s face.

“Is he okay?”

“I think he’s hungry. I have some goat milk at home.”

Saber straightened, and you had to almost jog to keep up with him, the two of you hurrying home to start your life as a family.

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kittycomrade · 2 years

Text

💕🍞 went and bought bread

#i wore my platforms bc i thought. I DONT CARE. ill wear cool shoes.#and that was fun till my reminder that i need NEED arch support #oh my little feeties are aching #7 hours out and about #OUCHIEEEE #i went with my brother to find pants #and we went to so many stores #😩i hate clothes shopping but its ok with people who can fit clothes at the stores we are af #but even still. the stores didnt have much of his size #so many xs why do they choose to stock them if they're not going to sell 😭

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plumpkinsx · 1 month

Text

denial .

context: where soobin finds a cute girl that wears skirts and bows for a living, with a cute face and cute attitude.. why wouldnt he wanna take that innocence out of her?

pairing: dom!soobin x virgin!fem!reader

warnings: corruption kink , petnames (bunny, baby) , soobin is a perv lowkey.. smut (mdni)

soobin liked a lot of things in a girl, if shes cute , short , has a little bit of attitude and shit a pretty face, and to soobins surprise you were exactly what his type was. you walked around in your cute skirts and stockings and fuck did you look so fucking cute and irresistible, especially when you slightly bend over and soobin takes a peek just to see your cute cunt clothed in pretty pink panties , he swore he could just take you right in that classroom. he always took a glance at you but rarely talked to you because ase he’d immediately pop a boner, until..

one day you and soobin were partners for a project in science , you looked at him when it was announced and saw he was already staring at you , a pink dusting your cheeks as you looked away. you cant react like that, you knew how soobin was and how he acted.. with the help of your friends they all told you that he was a blatant pervert. you didn’t believe them but part of you felt like the rumors were true so you stayed away

you were walking out of class until soobin approached you “yn… you wanna come over to work on the project?’” he said his sweet deep tone that made your knees weak even though it shouldnt ‘you cant fall for his charms yn.. get it togther’ the voice of your friend echoed in your head “um.. i.. think we could just do it in the library..” your sooth voice sent chills straight to soobins dick and he started to corner you “aw baby.. are you nervous?.. it’s alright if you come to mine.” he said gripping your hips and lifting your leg up to grind his boner on your cunt “soobin..! you cant i dont..” “dont what?… cmon just be good f’me okay bunny?.. ill take care of you real good..” he says as he unzips his pants and looks around “and.. nobodys even here anymore.. so we wont get caught.” he smiles and bites into your neck ripping a moan from you , his fingers pull your panties to the side as he slips his cock out “see what you do t’me bunny?… all this just f’you..” he jerks off and lines his dick up with your cunt. “it wont fit! please dont.. i..” “shh.. just take it.. ill make it feel good.” he slowly slips in and starts to move before you can adjust. seeing the tears well up in your eyes was a beautiful sight to soobin.. he would be lying if he didnt wanna push you to your limit even further.

#soobin #choi soobin #soobin smut #soobin hard hours #txt smut #zi’s writings !#txt hard thoughts

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mintmatcha · 4 months

Text

tw: implied abuse, no curses au

"Can I ask a question?" Yuuji digs his heel into the wood chips as he swings, digging a growing trench behind him. "You don't have to answer."

Ash falls from the end of Choso's cigarette. He leans against the anchor of the swing set, cheek against cold metal, and sighs. Twilight has passed and the streetlights have turned on, giving the playground a hazy, barely lit glow. Yuuji's guardian will start calling soon, but Choso decides the extra time together is worth the future ire.

"I already told you that I'm not giving you a tattoo."

"Aw, damn-" Yuuji clicks his tongue against his teeth. Ever since they met, he's been dying for a tattoo of his own, throwing out wild new ideas almost every day. One day, when he's eighteen and likes an idea for more than a month, Choso will bring him to his studio and comply.

But, not yet.

"That wasn't my question though," Yuuji says.

"Then go for it."

The younger boy takes a deep breath, then lets it out even slower, pulling the tension longer and longer until it snaps.

"Why weren't you... around? Like, when I was a kid and stuff."

Choso takes his own breath.

"Your mom-- our mom." The taste of that sits bitter on his tongue. He never called her mom, even back then. "She was different for me."

And for our other brothers, he adds silently. Yuuji doesn't need to carry that weight yet, the knowledge that he was the exception to it all.

"Why?" Yuuji pumps his legs a little softer, the back and forth motion of the swing slowly dying out.

"I dunno." Choso wishes he had the answer to that. "She was sixteen, did bad things. Don't worry about it."

Finding out about Yuuji wasn't a shock, somehow. Years after Ken had surrendered her children to the state, Choso had received noticed that she had died. The news felt overdue. No tears were shed, no love lost; the group chat of siblings had all agreed not to go to any service, but the day of, Choso had changed his mind.

He had put on his nicest outfit -some thrift store pants that didn't fit and a shirt he stole from foster dad three- and went expecting to be the only one there, the only one willing to say goodbye.

Choso hadn't known about her new family. They hadn't known about him either. It was typical of Ken to leave a mess in her wake.

Turns out, through a series of lucky breaks, the woman had clawed her way out of poverty and into the arms of a rich, but nice man. Her life was easy and sweet, filled with luxuries and love, including a son ten years younger than her eldest.

No one knows why Yuuji was different than the others, why she decided to be good to him and no one else. Mental illness is strange like that, picking and choosing how it pleases.

Yuuji huffs, gripping the metal chains tighter. "But-"

"Yuuji." Choso drops his cigarette and crushes it under his boot. Then, he thinks about the child that will play there tomorrow, shoveling wood chips into their mouths like idiots, and decides to pick it up. He jams it into his pocket. "You have good memories of her. Don't ruin that."

He used to resent how much Yuuji loved her. He was eight when she died, the same age Choso was when he first had to dial 911 for her. That anger had long faded, replaced with a strange amount of pity.

"But I want to know. What she did and stuff." Yuuji's voice jumps high with emotion. "I'm basically an adult, I can handle it."

"You're sixteen."

"Well, mom was doing this stuff at sixteen, so-" Yuuji is seething suddenly, brow furrowed and teeth grit.

"So?"

"So, she was old enough to be doing bad things and I'm not old enough to know about it?" He stands and the swing clatters behind him. He's stocky, yet tall, bunched with muscles that he's built from baseball. On one side of his cheek, there's a bit of chocolate stuck there, a remnant from the ice cream Choso bought him. Below it, there's a rosy hickey on his neck, a remnant of the boyfriend he hasn't told Nanami about yet. He thinks they're having sex, maybe, but doesn't know how to broach the topic without scaring his brother into never talking about it again.

"And you had tattoos at my age, by the way!"

Choso lets him stew in it, huffing and puffing. The blown out edges of first tattoo peek from under his sleeve, the image barely legible now. An older woman gave it to him at fifteen, in the basement of her house. It became so insanely infected that he ended up in the ER a couple days later.

"I'm not a kid. I can handle it." Yuuji states, calm and clear. "I'm not a kid."

A car passes, it's headlights stretching and pulling the shadows across the park. In the changes, Choso can see his mother in his brother, those soft eyes and thin lips and the same slightly crooked nose that Choso has himself. He thinks, maybe, if time was kinder and his father was better, they'd look more alike each other, but then the moment is gone and they no longer even look like siblings.

"Okay."

Yuuji untenses a bit. "Okay?"

"Okay."

"Like, okay, this conversation is done, or okay, I'll tell you?"

"I'll tell you," Choso says, jamming his hands in his pocket. The cigarette butt is there, mushed and still warm against his knuckles. "But not tonight."

"What?!"

"Next time, I promise."

Choso doesn't understand why Yuuji insists on rushing away from innocence, but he knows that he can't stop him. Yuuji will find out about the abuse, the neglect, the other brothers, and the other horrors in some way or another and then things will never be the same.

"Stay a kid just a little longer." Choso resists the urge to ruffle his hair. "For me?"

"Yeah, sure," Yuuji sighs. "One more day."

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cyberm4n · 3 months

Note

could you pls do lucifers' oldest daughter x adam, and lucifer disapproves of it and adam rubs it in his face and the reader is innocent and has no idea whats going in between them and is absolutely in love with adam, and smut and possibly daddy kink if possible??♡♡

combined these two cause they work together really well! im so glad i got adam requests cause i am in LOVE with his man rn

cw: daddy kink, smut, readers first time, reader doesn't know of the history between lucifer and adam and i don't explain how, mentions of past tense bad father lucifer, adam is a little shit, not proofread

adam with lucifers oldest daughter reader!

■ OKAY FOR STARTERS

■ if Adam is genuinely interested in a relationship with you, like it's not just to get at lucifer then he's the biggest softy

■ im a firm believer he is a sweetheart in private moments in a relationship

■ to everyone else he's a total jackass but when you two are alone?

■ he's so respectful and loving to you

■ but if you're innocent

■ this man has the biggest corruption kink in the fucking world and the fact he gets to have his way with the daughter of his "enemy" satisfies him more

■ but it does make him feel a bit warm when it becomes obvious just how in love you are with him

■ and anytime you tell your dad about your boyfriend he lights up! so happy his daughter has found someone :)

■ but shit goes down when he asks to finally meet him, he figures if his daughter is in love he should definitely know him

quick recess from that train of thought

■ adam! who's got you laid out on his bed, working his shirt off

■ adam! who hears your little murmur about being a virgin

■ adam! who is immediately rock fucking hard at the fact he gets to take that innocence from you

■ adam! who hovers over you, kissing your neck as he helps you out of your pants, his other hand tugging impatiently at your shirt

■ adam! who can't get over how fucking beautiful you are, all other motives thrown out the window, he just wants to make this good for you

■ adam! who growls when he works a finger into you, feeling how tight you are and hearing you whimper

■ "princess you gotta relax, gonna stretch you out. i know baby, i know. just let me make you feel good"

■ adam! who scissors his fingers in you, desperately trying to make this easier for you

■ adam! whose cock makes you tremble when you see it finally, he's big. i think he'd be above average, 7-8.5ish inches, girthy too.

■ "baby don't worry ill make it fit, daddy's gonna take care of you, okay?"

■ adam! who audibly groans after you don't even bat an eye at his slip up

■ ugh he'd be so sweet as he's guiding it in you, kissing your face, maybe even rubbing your clit to try and get you to relax

■ but just as he's about to bottom out hears a little "s'too much daddy" from you and he swears he could have cum right there

■ if this wasn't your first time he'd be pounding the shit out of you now

■ but he's gentle, at least at first

■ "okay sweetheart, i need more, can you do that?" he'd murmur, so sweet.

■ and then he fucking rails you

■ HEAVY BELIEVER he's gonna try and go atleast 2 rounds with you, maybe more

■ you're just too perfect he can't help it

ANYWAYS

■ so like, you're really oblvious to the beef between your dad and adam

■ like it's just never been expressed

■ plus lucifer doesn't have a great relationship with his kids!! so the fact you've even told him about your boyfriend makes him happy

■ so you go out for dinner! it's a classic! you have no idea why you're boyfriend is acting so weird!

■ what does NOT make lucifer happy is seeing you walk in with adam, his arm slung around your waist

■ he's in denial for a moment, standing from his spot as he meets you halfway

■ "dad, meet my boyfriend, adam!"

■ there's a beat of silence, and you're not sure why

■ but lucifer extends a hand "adam, it's so nice to meet you" he says through gritted teeth

■ tbh both are pretty quiet, only exchanging niceties until you leave for the bathroom

■ adam squeezes your hand as you stand up, watching you walk off.

■ then he turns back to face lucifer, a smug smirk plastered on his face

■ "you motherfucker" "well actually technically im a d—" "shut up, shut up, shut the fuck up"

■ lucifer genuinely has to convince himself not to fucking kill adam right here. reminding himself that his daughter is in love with him.

■ lucifer decides he doesn't have to like adam for him to support you

■ but adam is such a little shit, once you get back to the table he will not shut the fuck up

■ but you seem so happy, lucifer sees the way you look at adam. he sighs.

■ even when adam tugs at your collar a little "fixing it" supposedly but lucifer knows it's definitely just to flash that little love bite he left there

■ and to you it seems like your boyfriend and dad are getting along great! you're so happy

■ at the end of the night your dad pulls you aside, doing the whole dad talk thing.

■ "if he breaks your heart.."

■ but you hug him for the first time in a long time, and he decides he can tolerate this for as long as im happy.

■ your dad loves you, maybe not your boyfriend, but you.

■ and adam.. deep down knows there's a little bit more to his facade. he cares about you, how could he not? this started out as just a way to get under lucifers skin but he's found himself genuinely hoping your dad doesn't try to sour the relationship

■ so when you take his hand as you part ways with your dad he sighs in relief

■ you're all his, and he wouldn't want it any other way <3

taglist: @reaper-of-light-12 @mxxny-lupin @wisteria-songs @t3llas

#hazbin hotel adam #adam smut #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin adam #hazbin hotel smut #smut #dad lucifer #lucifer morningstar

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fraugwinska · 2 months

Note

In reference to Going with the Times: we are getting ready to go to a club with Angel only for Alastor to intervene when he recognizes our “dancing boots”

He couldn’t let us go out dressed so scandalously modern (the horror), so he distracts us

I somehow grew fond of this pairing - so hell yeah, let's do it ;>

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Goody-Two-Shoes

The knock on the door came at the worst timing ever.

You were almost finished, one of the tight, skin-hugging black overknee boots Angel lent you on your left leg, secure and safe. The other one however put up a fight. Inch by inch you had wiggled and wormed your leg down the shaft, cursing under your breath. Your foot was almost down to the heel, but all the work and struggle with this damn fabric made you break into a sweat, resulting in even more friction to overcome.

“Ugh, come on you god-damn, stupid, fucking... COME IN!”, you stuttered, violently pulling at the top of the boots it made you lose your balance. The door opened, and while you fell you could see a very surprised looking radio demon in the door frame before your ass hit the ground and your back bumped against your dresser.

Alastor rushed to your side, reaching his hand out to your groaning figure.

“Oh, my dear, normally I sweep ladies off their feet after I enter a room.”, he joked, pulling you back up. You didn't dare to let go of his hand, still wobbly from the ill-fitting left boot and the pain in your back from the impact.

“Hilarious, Al, really nice to pull my leg like that when I'm hurtin'. Ouch...”, you grumble, rubbing your sore behind. He chuckled at your little quip but led you carefully to your bed, where you sat down, sighing. Only then did he recognize the very thing that had you in such a struggle. His brow rose, his face displaying a dangerously condescending expression.

“May I ask why you are binding yourself in these... atrosities?”

Ignoring the throbbing pain in your back, you returned to pulling the unruly shaft up your leg again.

“They... are... overknees...”, with another hard tug, your heel finally slipped through. You sighed with relief and brushed your sweaty fringe out of your face. “Angel invited me to go to a club with him and Cherri, and he lent me these!”

You stretched out your legs and tapped your heels together, grinning at him. “They look just like the ones in the photo, right?”

“Indeed.”, he said, but even though he didn't lose his smile, his eyes traveled from your heels over your legs and the seams of the boots to the bare skin of your thighs, only broken by your shimmering hot pants. “And just as outrageous.” Alastor tilted his head, eyes narrowed. “You do not intend to wear this in public, do you, darling?”

“After spending half an hour just putting those on? Of course I do.”

His disbelieving look made you laugh. It was a never-ending discussion between you two, a tug-and-pull between your sometimes vastly different opinions of modernity. You often fought with him, always in good nature, and everyone in the hotel was convinced you had a golden tongue for how often Alastor let you win these arguments.

Alastor hummed thoughtfully, brows furrowed and staring at the crushed black leather. You were already moving to stand up when his hand suddenly grabbed one of your ankles and he pulled your foot up, making you fall onto your back into your mattress.

“Hey!”

“Half an hour, you say?”, his eyes glimmered with impish mischief. “So much effort, just for the meager fun of catching the eye of a lowly, no-name sinner in a dance club? You can do so much better than that, my sweet.”

He hooked a claw under the seam of your boot, leg still up in his firm grip, and you watched with anger and confusion as he slowly pulled the fabric down. “AL! Stooooop, I'll never get them up again.”, you whined, hands reaching out to stop him but he shifted his weight, puling your leg even higher while he turned his body, kneeling – no, towering - over you. He rested your ankle between his shoulder and his cheek, eyes still fixated on you as his other hand joined the already working hand in his efforts to get you out of the tight sleve of your shoe. It looked.... sinful almost, oddly hot, and the way his eyes burned into yours made you 1. shut up and 2. flush in deepest magenta.

“Why searching for the companionship of strangers, dressed in such a mundane way, when one could keep the company of a dear friend who doesn't care about what you'll wear?”

He gripped the heel and pulled the loosened sleeve off in one, swift motion. You gulped, the atmosphere had shifted to something other than playful banter. He seemed almost seductive, the way his voice lost most of his standard radio filter, reducing into a dark whisper.

“I.. um.. “, you said eloquently when a sudden, loud “HOLY SHIT!” made both of your heads turn. Angel looked like he'd just seen a naked, tap dancing James Dean, he was beet-red (likely rivaling your own color), dressed up to the nines in fur and latex and his mouth stood wide agape.

“Y-You know what, toots, I, um, You... fuck, yeah, you'll take a rain check, seems like you are otherwise... Yeah. See 'ya!”, the spider stuttered, completely floored at this display, backing out slowly and slamming the door shut.

You covered your face with your hands – tomorrow the whole hotel will know about this.

“I guess I won't go out tonight.”, you mumble, embarassed. You tried to sit up, but Alastors sly smile didn't fade as he let your now undressed leg slide down and began to slip the other shoe off.

“Don't worry, darling, I'll make sure you'll have fun anyways.”

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor x reader #quick fic #oneshot #fraugwinskawrites #add a little spice

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saylorsaysstop · 4 months

Text

Body Heat | Dick Grayson

↪ one-bed trope prompt: there’s technically two beds available, but it’s freezing cold and everybody knows body heat works best

↪ prompt list here

↪ My Masterlist

The room was frigid. Your teeth chattered as you struggled to warm yourself up by vigorously rubbing your hands up and down your arms. Glancing around the hotel room that you and Dick were sharing while out of town for a Wayne Enterprises event, you didn’t expect the heat to barely work in such a nice hotel.

The bathroom door opens to reveal Dick strutting out in his boxers, toothbrush in his mouth. He walks over to the bed he was taking for the few nights you’d spend here and check his phone. He glances over and sees you shuddering.

“I can hear your teeth clacking together from here.” Dick chuckled, tilting his head back so toothpaste doesn’t seep from the corners of his mouth.

With a low growl, you flip him off.

“I’m sorry that I’m not a human radiator… Dick.” You grumble.

Dick’s hand falls to his chest. “Did you just insult me?”

“What are you going to do about it?!” You exclaim. Dick smiles in satisfaction and returns to deposit his toothbrush and swish his mouth. You crawl under the ill-feeling blankets. They were even colder. A string of curses falls from your mouth as you struggle to bring the fitted sheet to your shoulders. You were appalled at how Dick could walk around this freezing hotel room in nothing but boxers. You had your pants on, a long-sleeve shirt, and your fuzzy socks.

Dick returns and falls into the bed with a comfortable sigh. He cockily extends his hands behind his head and crosses one foot over the other. “It’s a little warm in here.” He comments, knowing it annoyed you. He knew Bruce was serving the two of you by sticking you together. Jason argued that he should’ve roomed with you but with Dick’s Gotham-sized crush on you, it was hard to make him pass up the opportunity.

“You… Are… The worst.” You say between shakes. Dick inhaled and decided to help you out.

“You know body heat works best.”

Your attention piques as you twist over your shoulder to look at him. “What?”

“Body heat. The best form of heat you can get.”

“What are you trying to insinuate?” You narrow your eyes.

Dick chuckles. “Well, I was going to suggest climbing under the sheets with you and supplying you my skin that you call a radiator. But I can stay over here and let your teeth clink together all night-”

“No!” You cut him off. “Please. I’m freezing.”

Dick smiles and leaves his bed to enter yours. He pulls back the covers and raises an eyebrow. “Shirt’s gotta go.”

Your eyes widen. “What? You’ll see my boobs! No!”

“Not the first time I’ve seen them. Remember when I accidentally walked in on you?”

You scoff and rise, taking your shirt off. Thankfully you wore a sports bra. Dick smirks and gets under the sheets with you. “Pants off.”

“I really don’t see why that’s necessary…” But the words die off your tongue the moment Dick’s extremely warm hand touches your waist. You kicked them off in record time. Once you did, Dick wrapped his arms around you from behind. Your back pressed into the hard surface of his chest, and immediately, warmth soared from your shoulders to your toes.

You wiggled into his embrace, eliciting a deep grunt from behind.

“Careful, baby.” He says huskily into your ear. “I’ll warm you up in a very not-so-friendly way if you keep wiggling your ass against my crotch.”

Stifling your giggle, you lay your cheek against his bicep and curl even further into him.

“Thank you,” You hum as the quiet buzzes between your pressed bodies. Dick tightens his arms around you and nuzzles his mouth into the crook of your neck where he gently blows warm air across your neck, eliciting goosebumps to pepper your skin.

“Anything for you, princess.” He chuckles, plopping a not-so-friendly kiss on your neck.

“You know, Dick,” you sigh. “You doing that makes me wonder if you don’t have a teeny tiny crush on me…”

Your words are followed by a yelp when Dick pinches the corner of your hip.

“Is that a yes?” You squeak.

“Go to sleep.” Dick sighs.

“YOU DO!” You gasp.

Dick squeezes his arms tightly around you, silencing your laughter with another kiss to your shoulder, one that slowly turns into him skating his lips up to your neck, until finally you’re twisting in his embrace and planting a hot one right on the center of his mouth.

#dick grayson #dick grayson fluff #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson one shot #nightwing #nightwing x reader #nightwing x female reader #nightwing fic #nightwing fluff #dick grayson x female reader #dick grayson x you #dc comics

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llamagoddessofficial · 5 months

Note

How would Farmer Sans handle hearing that MC was sick? Maybe they usually meet up a certain time while managing their morning chores and they’re just.. not there, only for him to later find that they’re bedridden

"hey, pumpkin."

The sound of Sans' voice, regardless of how soft it was, made you panic.

You sat bolt upright from your spot curled into the couch, jolting out of your strange fever dream. A cooling pack fell off your head, and a blanket you didn’t remember grabbing slipped from your shoulders to your lap.

Immediately, you could tell that you weren’t on your home couch. You didn’t recognise the blanket someone had tucked you under. You weren’t cold, you couldn’t smell the usual mix of dust and gradually fading damp - in fact, there were many wonderful scents mingling in the warm air, soup and tea and a sweet bread aroma that made your stomach rumble.

It certainly wasn’t where you expected to wake up, after you fell asleep in front of the dodgy TV once the painkillers finally kicked in. This was someone else’s couch. And after a few bleary moments, you recognised it all.

... It was Sans’ couch. You were in his house.

You looked up a little to see the man himself, as handsome as ever, leaning over the back of the sofa and looking at you. A gentle flicker of relief passed over his face.

“rise and shine,” he said, voice as warm as the room. “how’re you feelin’?”

Huh?

...

Your eyes widened. "S-Sans!?"

Bad decision. At such a sudden vocalisation, your body decided that was the perfect moment to send you into a horrendous coughing fit that made the inside of your throat feel like someone had gone at it with sandpaper.

Sans just put a big gentle hand on your back, letting you work through it, quiet as you hacked your lungs up.

Eventually the coughing eased off; once you had control of your body again, you turned your gaze back to him.

"Y-you...” Your cheeks were starting to burn. “why am I...?"

“you weren’t answerin’ the phone. i got worried.” As he spoke, you kept messing with your shirt, nervously pulling it down over yourself. “came to check on you, an’ you were totally out of it, could barely answer me. i had to go work, but figured i should bring you somewhere me an’ pap can keep an eye on you.”

... Oh no. You put your hands over your face, slowly getting quieter and quieter as the situation dawned on you. “Y-you really didn’t need to...”

“course we did. ain’t safe for you to be so sick all on yer own.”

This was a nightmare. Now, on top of being sick, you were absolutely mortified at Sans seeing you in this state. Tired, achy, sweaty... you were dressed in a stained old shirt and pyjama pants, visibly unshowered and pretty much as ungroomed as one could get. You distinctly remembered throwing stuff on your floor before you fell asleep, too weak to get up and go put it in the garbage - empty blister packs and used, crumpled tissues. Did he see all your dirty trash when he came to find you?

You wanted to melt into the couch. He had seen you delirious and ill, at your absolute greasiest and grossest. Stars, what did he think of you now?

“I-I’ve been out for hours?” you asked.

“mhm.”

Your whole world was coming down around your ears. Why couldn’t Sans have just let you die at home, where no one would see your shame?

“you didn't tell me you were sick,” he said, so quietly you almost didn’t hear. There was a strangely... sullen edge to his tone?

Your face was on fire. You had already intruded so much on him and his brother’s kindness over the last few weeks. Sans had repaired your stove and water pipes, bought you fresh food from the farm, helped fix a leak in the roof, not to mention when you asked him to stay the night like you were a frightened baby. Now here you were; being sick and disgusting right in the middle of his house.

Before he could say anything else, you pushed the blanket off you, swinging your legs over the side of the couch and scrambling to your feet.

“I-I should get home,” you said, hoarse.

Immediately, Sans’ brows raised. You didn't look at him for long, walking unsteadily and trying your best to concentrate on not tipping over.

“I’m so sorry to intrude. I’ll just-”

... Your feet went out from underneath you.

You squeaked, loudly - but Sans didn’t care, he scooped you up like you didn’t weigh a thing. To him, you probably didn’t weigh a thing. You could feel his massive strength through his clothes, and you immediately knew that if he wanted to, he could’ve thrown you straight into the air like a child.

You couldn’t tell if it was the height that was dizzying, how close your face was to his, or if you were just way weaker right now than you realised. But immediately your hands balled in his shirt.

"... easy," he murmured, one arm under your thighs. "i don't bite."

... Your face filled with so much heat it felt as if the tips of your ears were going to set alight. You tried to say something, but when you opened your mouth, literally nothing came out. Not a sound. All you could do was hold on to his shoulders.

Sans’ voice became normal again, jokingly stern. “sorry. not goin’ anywhere on my watch, pet. you need to rest. look at you - yer burnin' up.”

Your whole body had tensed up. But not out of fear. You just stared into his eyelights.

He very gently sat you back down onto the couch, putting the cold pack into your hands. “you stay right there, ok? i’ll getcha some soup. it should be ready by now.”

"O-ok," you helplessly replied.

Sans moved away, disappearing into the kitchen.

...

There wasn't much else you could do, but lay down and put the cooling pack back on your head... trying to figure out how to make your heart slow down.

#llama writes #sans: [uses his 'talking to a scared horse' voice]#mc: Why the fuck am I into this??? WHY AM I INTO THIS??#also hes upset because he wants to look after her and he doesnt like that she didn't tell him earlier #he likes caring for you. how could you deny him the opportunity #do you HATE HIM???

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mimixmunson · 21 days

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https://www.tumblr.com/mimixmunson/749926441337192448/i-dont-want-to-bother-you-but-can-you-please-do?source=share

Inspired by this, what about eddie x strong reader, the type thats like tomboy/ kinda alittle built and eddie loves it because she man handles him and tosses him around in bed and theyre both always covered in bruises

Sweet submissive boy. Eddie Munson x female reader. Smut. Blurb.

(I went feral with this one, I’m also really fucking ill so if this isn’t up to usual standards I’m sorry!!)

You first found out Eddie was submissive by accident, your fingers intertwined in his curls as he was thrusting into you, the sound of his balls slapping against your ass echoed throughout the room with a soft background noise of the pair of you groaning into each other’s lips. As Eddie’s love grew rougher, you had to hold onto something so you gripped onto his hair and tugged. The moan that came out of him was something you’d only heard in dirty movies, you looked up at him, almost starstruck. “What was that?” You tease, smirking up at his flushed cheeks. He offers you a nervous smile and resumes your journey to orgasm.

The second time he made that noise was when you were wrestling. It was only a silly moment, you honestly thought he was playing with you when he moaned. He’s sat on your legs, peering down at you with a “what you gonna do about it” look in his widened eyes. With a giggle, you reach up and clasp your palm around his throat, squeezing the sides of his neck with gentle pressure. His eyes practically roll to the back of his head and you’re dizzy with dominance. You have him literally in the palm of your hand.

Eddie refuses to communicate about it though, you’d finally found the thing that makes your confident and theatrical boyfriend into a puddle of embarrassment. You didn’t know why he was so shy about it, it was adorable. It’s not like you don’t jump at the chance to take control either, it turned you on to see his pupils widen. He couldn’t hide how aroused it made him. To not be in control, to feel small, to feel pain.

After a girls trip out, you arrive home with several shopping bags. Eddie, eagle-eyed, spots the logo of the local sex store. Your girl friends insisted you’d go into the shop, you’d not put up a fight, curious to see what you could take home for yourself and Eddie. You pulled out a pair of handcuffs from the bag, dangling them on your index finger as they swung from side to side, putting Eddie into a hypnotised like state as he stared at them. His signature flush on his cheeks as usual, he takes his gaze off of the cuffs and up to you. Nodding enthusiastically. You squeal in excitement, grabbing his hand and rushing him into the bedroom with a beaming smile spread across your face.

The cuffs fit comfortably behind the headboard, you place them behind the metal bar and fasten Eddie’s wrists in. He looks a picture, staring up at you with his big doe eyes, non verbally asking you what you have in store for him. “Oh I’m gonna have so much fun with you Eds..” you tease, smirking down at him as you trace your fingers across his bare chest. “Ah-ah-ah” he pleads, writhing underneath your nails, “tickles!” He stammers, you smile in return. Letting up your accidental torment. “Sorry baby, I wanna make this good for you. I know you like this. Like it a little rough don’t you Munson?” You breathe out, adamant in your words. He nods his head helplessly, with a pretty pout plastered on his lips.

You palm his erection, the tent shape growing in his boxers was hard to miss. He pants, pulling at his restraints at the first brush of your fingers against his underwear clad cock. Your index finger circles around the head of his dick teasingly, his tongue slips out of his mouth and he whines for your lips on his. You grant him his wish, lifting his head onto the palm of your hand and yanking at his hair, pulling him into your lips for a passionate kiss as your tongues fight for power. Your tongue over takes his easily, Eddie’s left a moaning mess underneath you. A bead of precum dribbles from his cock, soaking through his boxers. You eye it and giggle.

“Desperate boy, so desperate for mommy aren’t you?” Eddie’s face lights up, and you immediately know you’re correct. “Mommy’s” he mouths, too shy to speak the words. “That’s right baby. Now mommy’s gonna make you feel real good.” You pull his underwear down to his ankles, sliding them off him. You grip your fist around his cock and Eddie tries to thrust up into it. Your fingers ghost around his sensitive happy trail as he fucks your hand, your nails teasing around his waist sending him into overstimulation. You lick a stripe up from his sack, up his shaft and swirl your tongue over his slit. “Mommy” he whines, “you’re close aren’t you baby?” You observe.

“Please please, please..” Eddie whines, his voice hoarse from begging. He’s desperate to cum, tilting on the edge of orgasm. His cock throbbing in your fist as you jerk him tightly. “Cum for mommy.” You tease, your lips lifting up into a smile. He throws his head back, his brown curls littered over the pillow as his cock leaks out his pearlescent cream. It shoots out of him in warm ropes, spilling onto your hand and up onto his tummy, soaking the hair of his happy trail.

“I knew you were mommy’s little bitch.” You coo, moving the hair from his face and uncuffing his wrists. Pulling the exhausted boy’s face into your breasts to rest. “Did so well for me Teddy. Proud of you.” His face nestles into your skin, and he mumbles sweet nothings under his breath until he floats back down from subspace to reality.

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lithyena · 2 months

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I sewed another pair of jeans into a skirt 💚 and i'm so incredibly pleased with it! I fucked up a little bit when I widened the body part of it, so that's why I added the black strips down the side, to hide my failures c: and I'm glad it happened, because the strips are now my favourite part of the skirt.

I made it the same way as this skirt, only the pant legs were wider so it ended up being longer! and of course added more "bling" ☆

I'm so happy with it, and I think this might be my favourite skirt now (as if I don't say that every time I make a new one)

I just think this way of repurposing too small/ill fitting jeans are one of the raddest ways to upcycle. ⋆₊✩⊹˚

#i feel like I'm flattering myself too much in this post but i am just so happt with this skirt #it makes me feel so cool when i wear it #it's my teen dreams come true #mine #goth #alternative #crafts #handmade #diy

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majestyjun · 1 year

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i loveee that trope where its like

"are you sure it'll fit?" "ill make it fit"

UGHH which members do you think fit this? personally i think yj, but tbh i could see any of them! btw love ur writing -3-

oh thank u ahaha <3 hmm… giving beomgyu~!

beomgyu n his huge cock, it’s not even a secret that he’s so easily turned on by dumb questions, why ask when he’ll fuck you either way, fit or not~? stupid girl, drooling and confused, hazy eyes n so dumbed out, lifting up your skirt because he told you to, splayed out in the trunk of his car, hot air heavy with pants and sexual desire~ a wet spot soaking your panties, legs spread open and fat tears of embarrassment rolling down your cheeks as you watch beomgyu stroke himself, precum dribbling down his shaft and big hand as he smirks down at you, shirt half torn upwards to expose your pretty tits, skirt held up by your cute hands like he told you~ and beomgyu who yanks down your panties without warning, eliciting such cute, dumb whines as he shoves your panties into your mouth, gagging you with a pair of cute pink ones <3 n beomgyu who leans over, growling, “don’t ask stupid questions, you’re such a dumb cumslut, i’ll make it fit.”

and beomgyu who roughly fucks you in the open trunk of his car, ankles over his shoulders as he slams his hips into yours with rough thrusts, smirking as he watches your cute tits bouncing with every mean stroke, tears staining your cheeks as you sob at such a brutal pace, cute cunny all stretched out to fit him~~ sounds of skin on skin so loud, beomgyu’s endless grunts n groans of swears, lost in his own pleasure as he fucks you like a fleshlight, tight cunt’s all his anyways, isn’t it~? heavy cock too big for you? too bad. beomgyu who leans over, angling deeper as his deep voice lets out breathy swears, lusty gaze in his eyes as he gropes your ass under your skirt >< and beomgyu who pulls out right after you cum, smirking down as you whimper and cry so much for the sudden loss of fullness, only for his hot cum to spurt all over your cute tummy and cunny, growling degradation as he strokes himself, his cum staining your clothes and dripping on your skin. and beomgyu who yanks your panties out of your mouth, roughly thrusting his cock back into your tight pussy and swallowing your wailing cry with his lips as he yanks you into his lap, going to fuck you more for that crying so cutely, darling <3

#txt hard thoughts #txt hard hours #gyu <3 #beomgyu smut #txt smut #mille.anon #mille.inbox

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angstics · 1 year

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i finally articulated my opinion on my "is gerard way doing drag" question. my definition of drag is when a person impersonates, exaggerates, or appropriates a mode of gender expression. drag can be artistic or political (or both). drag can be an identity. drag and transgender identity are confused as the same thing. for some, it is. what is considered cross dressing can also be considered drag. it's important to note that drag is essential to queer culture, and how the us government harasses queer people through cross dressing, and now anti-drag, laws. we wouldnt be here talking about pop artists doing drag without drag performers and nonbinary-trans-gnc people.

to some people, a self-identified man in a female-identified dress is drag. "cross dressing" depends on cishet norms. queer people, especially nonbinary-trans-gnc people, have called to dismantle the assignment of gender to clothing. under that lens, a man in a dress is just a man in a dress -- for it to be drag, context and intent matters. that's how you get women doing female drag, or androgynous people doing what gerard way's been doing this last year on tour.

in asking "is gerard way doing drag?", im assigning importance to the topic. does it matter? within my understanding, drag is about intent and context as much as gender presentation. intent and context is what makes something important. therefore: understanding why the question is important solves it.

male music artists have a long history of cross dressing and doing drag. there's a good chance plugging any dude into a search engine with "drag" or "skirt" will bring something up. bowie, queen, nirvana, manic street preachers, placebo. here's a list. newer artists: lil nas x, harry styles, anthony green, pete wentz, young thug. some are impersonating female caricatures, some are masculinizing female clothes (long, ill-fitting, straight). some, like molko and lil nas, wear feminine clothes without exaggerating or masculinizing. gerard is in that same grey area.

male music artists have a long history of cross dressing and doing drag -- photos: "i want to break free" mv by queen (1984) / placebo in london (oct 1998) / lil nas x at audacy beach festival (dec 5, 2021) / fall out boy at rock for people (june 17, 2022)

all that history is why it was so weird when kerrang called gerard's riot fest "dress and heels" "a compelling show of contrarian anti-rock star eccentricity". it is not anti-rock star, at least not as described. it may be compelling, contrarian, and eccentric, but no reviewer really cares to analyze why. the closest they get is by identifying non-binary connection (them.us) and its relation to the "minefield that is American gender politics today" (latimes.com).

fans were struck by way's outfits for a lot of other reasons.

1. we have to get it out of the way that they just looked hot -- gerard is perpetually attractive, skirts are pretty. easy equation.

2. he has a long history of gender nonconformity. more on that in my #mcr queer studies tag. gerard is a 45 year old famously androgynous person who doesnt do labels, aligns himself with gender nonconformity (2014 reddit ama, 2018 advocate article, 2015 he/they tweet), and doesnt seem to care to be known as a man.

3. the tour outfits were well-fitted. many were crafted by skilled designer marina toybina and her team. which leads to ->

4. the outfits were very casual and very feminine. as mentioned, most men opt for masculine, ill-fitting skirts. which is to say they are NOT showing leg and they are definitely not showing ass. gerard doesnt steer clear from shortness or tightness or movement. he also dresses in ways people dress day to day -- the miniskirt is as casual as the shorts as casual as the jeans. there's some discussion to be had about what casual means -- he could be imitating expected presentation or just using basics, like his frequent shirt and pants.

the miniskirt is as casual as the shorts as casual as the jeans -- photos: firefly music festival (sept 23, 2022) / uncasville (sept 1, 2022) / eden project night 1 (may 16, 2022)

5. there was variety. many outfits, many types. he wasnt just doing pure femininity. some looks were high concept, some low concept. some gendered, some genderless. some feminine, some masculine. it was playful. its honesty evident in its fluidity yet cohesiveness. expanded in the next points ->

6. they incorporate elements of masculinity and gender neutrality concurrent with the feminine. his aggressive, energetic performance style often doesnt mind what people are seeing when his skirt lifts or shirt droops. he has little to no make-up -- if he does, it's stage and not glam. the closest he gets is the agender black swan look at boston night 1, the stage contour at wwwy night 3, and dubious lipstick at firefly. he also maintains the same hairstyle: barely styled, not straightened-curled. pinned a few times, gelled back some other times.

he has little to no make-up -- if he does, it's stage and not glam -- photos: boston night 1 (sept 7, 2022) / when we were young night 3 (oct 29, 2022) / firefly music festival (sept 23, 2022)

7. the character outfits weren't caricatures, like green's sleazy hooker or queen's uptight housewives. gerard's characters were appropriated but not exaggerated. cheerleader, nurse, manson girl, jackie o, princess diane, st joan. all figures of pop culture. he wore them as they were. even comparing green and way's similar white-green cheerleader costumes there's a difference in presentation. green wears long leggings, way wears shorts. green's costume is based on a stranger things character, way's is a custom remade vintage outfit. green exhibits the masculinization of feminine clothes which way subverts. this comparison highlights what makes way's outfits different, and therefore exciting to talk about.

green exhibits the masculinization of feminine clothes which way subverts -- photos: saosin in garden grove, ca (oct 27, 2022) / mcr in nashville, tn (aug 23, 2022)

8. and when he played with masculinity, it was in a way that was dubbed "boydrag". the new jersey night 2 casino singer look was a dramatic caricature that heightened masculine features until they were pure style... the defintion of camp. he had a mustache -- thin like john waters or a confirmed bachelor, and drawn on with eyeliner. he had a suit -- a pink-gold, glittery woman's cut jacket with a glittery bowtie and pleated shirt. the dramatic flair is accentuated by the black eye make-up, the frank sinatra "my way" cover, the drum tag: "the house always wins".

the defintion of camp -- photos: new jersey night 2 (sept 21, 2022) 1 / 2

when i asked which outfits others considered drag, all replies identified the casino singer and jackie o as drag and the rest as "just clothes". this relation made me understand why the rest couldnt be drag despite all the connections i talked about above. the jackie o outfit doesnt exaggerate the source like casino singer, but the source itself is both highly dramatic and highly gendered. cheer is gendered but not highly dramatic, st joan dramatic but not highly gendered. diane is gendered and dramatic, but not highly. the list goes on and on. it's a fine line. especially cheer could tip into drag for me.

but the source itself is both highly dramatic and highly gendered -- photos: mcr at riot fest (oct 12, 2022) / jackie kennedy onassis (jan 3, 1971)

if drag is understood in this way, simply wearing gendered clothes isnt drag. the look itself has to be about the performance of gender, however that may be presented. that’s the importance of classification. we can see what the artist is doing.

#mcr #gerard way #mcr queer studies #mcr performance studies #qessay #mcr fashion studies

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jadewritesficshere · 4 months

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Hold me close as you drift off to sleep

Eddie Munson x reader

Eddie spends the night for the first time

Contents: no use of gendered pet names,, no physical descriptions of reader but clothes are described, mentions of nervousness, mentions of sharing a toothbrush which leads to mentions of spit kink, no actual smut but allusions to it,

MDNI 18+ only

You slowly looked over your pajama choice in the mirror. A pair of warm plaid pants and a t-shirt from years ago that was faded and soft in the most comfortable way. You weren't sure why you were so nervous about this, you and Eddie had seen each other in many different clothes and lack thereof.

But there was something different about spending the first night together. The first time sleeping together, and by sleeping you actually mean it in the sense of the word. Snoozing. Dreaming. Resting. Snoring-

Oh God what if you snored? You bit your lip as the anxiety started to rise. You didn't think you snored, but what if you did? What if you walked in your sleep? Or worse, what if you talked and shared all your secrets (the most important being you loved Eddie, but you didn't think it was that big of a secret).

The door to your bedroom creaked open, causing your eyes to dart over. Eddie walks in, dumping his clothes on the floor. The white tank top clings to his lean torso, the ill fitting red plaid pants rolled up at the hems. Eddie smiles at you slightly before sighing loudly. You stomach turns until Eddie gestures to his pants," Well, one of us is gonna have to change."

A laugh escapes you just as your worries do. This is Eddie. Your Eddie. There is no need to be nervous.

You walk over to the bed and crawl in," Should have packed a bag just in case. You saw the forecast was calling for snow." Eddie scoffs slightly but crawls into bed," You're my weather.. guide? the weather diviner...the weather-" "meteorologist" "Yeah that! You're that. Wayne watches the news, not me. They just want you to see one side." Eddie pulls the blankets up to his chin and bats his lashes at you," You're my meteorologist and you didn't tell me. Almost like you wanted this to happen."

You smile as you roll your eyes," Yes Edward, I wanted you all to myself and chose to not tell you so that way you had to borrow clothes from whatever was left here by Steve and Robin." "Oh, I'm not borrowing, these are mine now. Finders keepers." Eddie winks at you.

Eddie reaches over and turns off the lamp, letting the room go dark. You blink your eyes a few times, adjusting to the lack of light. You can feel the dip in the bed where Eddie is laying next to you. Your hands almost touching. Hear his breathing cut through the deafening silence.

You look over at Eddie and find him already staring at you. "Sorry if I snore," you mumble looking into his eyes. Eddie brings up a finger and traces your cheekbone," Don't worry about it. Wayne snores, won't bother me if you sound like a chainsaw." You huff and go to turn away but Eddie holds your face towards him.

"Goodnight." Eddie whispers as he leans in and kisses you lightly. Its soft, sweet, and almost shy. You grin into the kiss. Eddie sighs and pulls back a fraction, lips barely touching. You can feel his breath against your face. You can smell peppermint- wait.

"You brush your teeth?" You ask. Eddie hums an affirmative, " Yup. Got my molars and everything. Rinsed your brush really wel-" "My brush?" Eddie looks a bit sheepish as you gape at him," My brush Edward? That's-! What? Eddie!"

Eddie blushes," We've swapped spit when kissing-" "That's different!" "Is it?". You roll away as Eddie makes grabbing hands and tries to keep you facing him. You evade his grasp and stare at the wall, feeling Eddie wrap his arms around your waist,"I'm sorry?"

You can't help but smile as Eddie kisses up and down your neck, apologizing the whole time. You grab his hand resting on your hip and interlock your fingers," It's okay i just don't want to think about it. I guess you have spit in my mouth-" "No I haven't! Wait, is that...Is that on the table cau-" "Don't press your luck tonight Eddie you know what I meant," you warn. "Shutting up" Eddie makes a motion of zipping his mouth shut.

You start to laugh and pretty soon Eddie is too. If you had had any nerves left, they would be gone now. You sigh, relaxing into the bed. The weight of Eddie's arm laid across you, holding you in place, had you feeling secure.

"Night Eddie. Don't let the bed bugs bite," you grin as you close your eyes. They snap back open a minute later as you feel the sting of Eddie's teeth lightly clamp onto your shoulder," Hey!" "No bed bugs here, just me. Your loooovveee bug." Eddie grins as you swat at him," Go to sleep!"

Eddie goes to roll over but you grasp his forearm, pulling his arm back over you. He smiles as he nuzzles his nose into your shoulder. He slides one leg and slots it between yours. Your limbs entangled in a more innocent way then normal. You smile softly as you lay there, trying to go to sleep.

You can hear Eddie's breathing even out as he falls asleep behind you. Knowing he feels safe and comfortable enough to do so makes you feel warm inside. You grin as you start to feel the edges of sleep start to overtake you.

Your eyes flutter open as the sun shines through the window. You look over at Eddie and try to stifle a laugh. His face pressed into the pillow with his hair a wild, tangled mess around him. The pillow slightly discolored from where he has drooled onto it. You can't hold it in when you realize the tank top he's wearing has shifted to reveal his entire pec to you.

Eddie slowly wakes up to your laughter, glaring at you slightly for being woken up. The grumpy look fades from his face as he realizes it's you that woke him up. Eddie sits up quickly, brushing a hand through his hair and only getting it caught once or twice. He wipes at the drool on his chin and gives you a big grin," What are you laughing at?"

You nod at his chest and he looks down. Eddie gasps dramatically," My virtue!" He fixed his top as he chuckles. You're sad to see his chest get covered. "Good morning," you say, hand reaching out to lightly graze his.

Eddie grabs your hand with his, thumb stroking the back of your hand," Good morning my dying fish" You wrinkle your brow at him," your what?" "My dying fish, you flopped around so much like a-" You cut Eddie off by hitting him with your pillow. His mouth drops open before he grabs his and hits you back.

Giggles and the sound of pillows hitting each other fill the air before Eddie tosses the pillow aside and tackles you to the bed. He kisses you before hovering over you slightly," Good morning." You grin back, tucking a stray curl behind his ear," Good morning.

Eddie grins down at you and you smile back. The warmth in his eyes causes your stomach to flutter and heart to beat faster. You don't know what he is thinking but can see the love written plainly on his face. You know that while this was only the first time he slept over, it definitely wouldn't be the last.

Eddie kisses the tip of your nose before jumping up," I'm gonna brush my teeth." He starts to giggle slightly making your eyes widen. "Eddie you better not use my brush!" You holler after him, hearing him cackle as he rushes down the hall," Edward!"

#I couldn't figure out how to end it but Eddie is a lil gremlin and would totally tease you #Sometimes vulnerability can be more intimate then the deed yall know what I mean?#Anyways I wish I had Eddie in bed next to me rn...sigh #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson #eddie munson x y/n #Eddie Munson/you #Eddie Munson/reader #Jade is Talking #Yeah I couldn't think of a title so...here ya go

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