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sweet-s0rr0w · 6 months

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Vintage Drarry Fics

Thought I'd put together a list of some of the old Drarry 'classics' of my teenage years, for anyone interested. All posted between 2001-2006, compiled using my (bad) memory, a lot of googling, fanlore.org and numerous different LJ rec accounts (including the incredible @capiturecs). I checked as best I could, but if anyone knows of any fics that their author doesn't want to be shared, please let me know and I will of course remove.

Please also note that these fics are of their era, when attitudes may have been different, and they may not all be grammatically perfect. I haven't reread all, as my own tastes have changed, but most importantly do note that they may not be tagged - don't blame me when, for example, Harry dies tragically on a rooftop at sunrise...

Hogwarts Era (mostly 5th-7th year)

A Thousand Beautiful Things by Duinn Fionn/geoviki (M, 105k)

Draco Malfoy struggles with changed fortunes, shifted alliances, an ugly war, and an unusual spell, with the help of a concerned professor, an insightful house-elf, and an unexpected Gryffindor friend.

All Bets Are Off by Allegra (R, 53k)

I am SICK of Good-little-innocent!Harry...Enter Playboy!Harry and his Overinflated Ego, a challenge, a bet, a couple of Really Cunning Plans - and there you have it, "Forty days and forty nights", Hogwarts style. Mayhem ensues!

Angels and Devils by beren (E, 52k)

Harry defeated Voldemort and his act of heroism is famous throughout the wizarding world. He's trying to finish his final year at Hogwarts in peace, but, thanks to the method he chose to destroy The Dark Lord, something peculiar is happening to him, something he never would have expected. It's all rather embarrassing and making his life very complicated.

Artful Facade by Sky Sorceress (T, 66k)

Sometimes you fly too close to the sun and lose your wings. With sixth year approaching, the danger Harry seeks can be found only in the form of Draco Malfoy. What follows is a twist in the line between hatred, love, and need.

Beautiful World by Cinnamon/Lissadiane (M, 70k)

Harry finds out he's going to die on his 16th birthday. He embarks on a journey of self-destructive behaviour and drags Draco along for the ride.

Beneath You by Cinnamon/Lissadiane (M, 113k)

Draco had no idea that the repercussions of stealing Potter's journal and shoving it down the back of his trousers would be so extreme.

Bond by AnnaFugazzi (M, 173k)

It seems 95% of H/D writers feel compelled to write a "Harry And Draco Are Forced To Be Together By Something Beyond Their Control And Then Unlikely Stuff Happens That Leads To Twoo Wuv" story. Count me among the 95% ;)

Checkmate by Naadi Moonfeather (T, 245k)

Draco has the perfect plan to get Harry Potter and challenges him to a game of Dare Chess. But is it love, or betrayal, he has in mind?

The Cicatrix Cycle by Ivy Blossom (NC-17, long!)

Three parts: Origins, Haven, Belong

Draco In Darkness by Plumeria (T, 41k)

Following an accident in his seventh year, Draco loses his eyesight. After Harry elbows his way into Draco's dark world, both boys find themselves in a strange new friendship, and they each learn new ways to see each other … and themselves.

Eclipse by PhoenixSong/Mijan (T, 287k)

"You're dead, Potter... I'm going to make you pay..." Draco swore his revenge on Harry for Lucius's imprisonment, and Harry all but laughed at him. But Draco is planning more than schoolyard pranks this time. The old rivalry turns deadly when Draco abducts Harry for Voldemort. It's the perfect plan, guaranteeing revenge, power, and prestige, all in one blow. But, when Draco's world turns upside down, the fight to save himself and Harry begins, and the battle will take them both through hell and back. If they come back.

Friend Like Me by Lady Vader (M, 11k)

Draco's rendition of the love story that never was.

How Harry Potter Got His Groove Back by Durendal/Eleveninches (R, 12k)

Snape tries to hang himself, Draco enters an alternate reality, and Harry Gets a Clue. Humor, SLASH, naughty language, and other Evil Things. Harry/Draco, Snape/James/Lucius.

Irresistible Poison by Rhysenn (PG-13, 124k)

Under the influence of a love potion, Draco learns that poison doesn't always bring death -- there are other ways to suffer and live. Chemical emotion runs feverish as Harry and Draco discover the intoxication of love.

Lettered by pir8fancier (M, 7.8k)

Harry has a secret penpal, whose identity is as plain as the nose on his face. Except he's not wearing his glasses.

Love Under Will by Aja (R, 116k)

In their 5th year, Harry and Draco choose to be with one another; but the story--and the battle-- is just beginning...

playing the game, living the lie by Abaddon (R, 159k)

Set in Sixth Year, both the wizarding and Muggle worlds are threatened as Voldemort plans a final revenge. Past, present and future collide as all must consider where their loyalties lie; who they are, and who they want to be. Amidst it all, Harry and Draco begin a dangerous journey of understanding. Is it possible to leave everything you thought you were behind?

Resolution by Frances Potter (R, 322k)

When you've spent six years fighting evil, all you really want is a quiet time. But when your name is Harry Potter the chances of that are very slim. A series of vignettes chronicling Harry's final six months at Hogwarts. Exams, friends, lovers, Quidditch, the war and Draco all conspire to make the year end seem a very long way away.

Seamus is Seamus and You are Yourself by Ari Munami (PG-13, 31k)

Harry goes through some er... changes in his Sixth Year and everyone, including Draco Malfoy, sits up and takes notice.

Snakes and Lions by GatewayGirl (M, 139k)

When Ron and Hermione get together, they notice only each other. A nightmare prompts Harry to return alone to the empty Chamber of Secrets, and leads to a new look at an old enemy. Harry enjoys the company, but with Bellatrix Lestrange actively hunting him, how far can he trust a Death Eater's son?

Something Impossible by epicylical/Cassandra Claire (PG, 6.4k)

As punishment for an act of vandalism, Draco is forced to perform three tasks to win Harry's forgiveness - only they don't turn out to be exactly the kind of tasks he'd been expecting. With wet shirtless Draco, paint-covered Harry, and Proust-reading Goyle.

Transformation by amalin (E, 98k)

In Harry's sixth year at Hogwarts, he must face the consequences of the attack on the Department of Mysteries and the effects of Voldemort's return. And in doing so, he finds that even your enemies can teach you valuable lessons—about the world, and about yourself.

Walking the Line by SilentAuror (E, 179k)

Sixth year is over and Draco Malfoy is on the run. The war is on and an unwanted assignment is forced upon him by the only people he trusts - and a one-time arch-enemy just may be out to kill him.

Post-Hogwarts

Adagio in G Minor by furiosity (NC-17, 18k)

Seven years after Hogwarts and the war, life continues in the wizarding world. Draco Malfoy is rich, bored, and slightly jaded. Harry Potter is famous, busy, and somewhat disillusioned. They've not seen each other since school ended. What would happen if they were to cross paths again? What if it involved music?

Big Dick, Come Quick [PDF] by Calanthe (NC-17, 204k)

Draco’s got a theory. About sex. And after much searching for the right candidate, it appears that only Harry Potter, his life long enemy, can help him test it out.

Draco's Escort Service by Cheryl Dyson/dysonrules (15, 12k)

Draco's job is to escort travelers through the dangerous, war-torn countryside. Harry Potter is forced to hire him, but his destination isn't quite what Draco expected.

Left My Heart by Emma Grant (E, 85k)

Auror Draco Malfoy has disappeared, and Harry Potter has been sent to San Francisco to find him.

Malfoy, P.I. by Nancy (R, 60k)

"I'm Draco Malfoy, private investigator. I've seen a lot--I mean a lot, and I'm like sweet seventeen a lot. I thought I'd seen it all, until a pair of green eyes stepped into my office." A noir AU set in L.A. where passion and magic collide. Slashy and sexy.

Queen of Hearts by scoradh (E, 65k)

A spectre is haunting Harry - the responsibility of his destiny. It looms over his future and, more importantly, over the future of his friends. Harry is determined to exorcise this spectre for the greater good, but on the way, he enters into a few unholy alliances.

Tissue of Silver by fearlessdiva (R, 76k)

A love story concerning possessed furniture, black silk pyjamas, courtroom drama, premonitions of doom, assassination attempts, Death Eater yoga, absinthe, bare feet and a sensible werewolf.

Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow by November Snowflake (M, 58k)

When the long-missing Draco Malfoy turns up at a Ministry field hospital with amnesia, bitter Auror Harry Potter must confront the shadows of their shared past to shed light on a potentially deadly mystery.

Transfigurations by Resonant (E, 71k)

Five years after Voldemort's defeat, Harry returns to England to help re-open Hogwarts.

#drarry #fic recs #vintage drarry fics #loved putting this together #blast from the past

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runninriot · 2 months

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Inspired by the prompt Love is saying "I love you" even when you're scared by @quinns-shadowy-arts for @steddielovemonth day 20

Give and Take

wc: 1737 | rated: t | cw: mentions of drinking and smoking weed | tags: Hurt Feelings (past), Fear of Rejection, Eddie realises he has a crush on Steve, Love Confessions, Friends to Lovers

Eddie is just about to leave when Wayne calls after him. Tells him not to stay out too late and to say Hi to Steve. And then he ends how he always does, never lets Eddie go without:

„Love ya, son."

Eddie smiles, gives his uncle an affirming nod before making his way out of the door.

He's heard it so many times now, these words his uncle says so easily, and he wished he could do the same.

It's something Eddie struggles with a lot; telling people he loves them is generally scary as shit.

Because in his experience, to love means to hurt because loving always comes with a price, a piece of your heart you give away with no chance of getting it back.

He’s given away too many of those.

Gave a piece to his mother when he was six. Proudly holding up the card his teacher helped him write for mother’s day. “I love you, mommy” it said on the heart-shaped paper and Eddie smiled, toothless and wide. Got a dead-eyed glare in return when she threw it on top of a pile of unopened letters. Not saying a word, not even acknowledging his extra neat hand-writing or the colourful flowers he’d drawn on the back.

He gave one piece to Jenny in grade 6. The girl with the blue eyes and rosy cheeks who was always so nice to him. One day after school she took his hand and kissed him on the cheek. Eddie felt like flying, told her he liked her a lot, thinking she might feel the same. But Jenny just scrunched her nose, pure disgust written on her face when she told him “Eww, no. It was just a dare.”

He lost a large piece in high school, gave it to Nick. The pretty boy with the seductive smile who dragged him behind the bleachers and stuck his tongue down Eddie’s throat. The kiss was too wet and too sloppy but Eddie thought maybe that’s how it’s supposed to be. Let Nick push him to his knees and willingly opened up wide. Not once, not twice, it went on for a month. And Eddie felt wanted but apparently wanted too much when he asked him to be his boyfriend.

Eddie learned to keep his mouth shut. To keep the remaining pieces to himself.

-🖤-

Steve is already waiting in his car that’s parked outside the Munson’s home, waving happily when he sees Eddie step outside.

They’ve made plans to spend the evening at Lover’s Lake, have a couple of beers and maybe a smoke while watching the sunset.

They do that often, just hanging out together. Enjoying the long summer days and each other’s company.

It’s always nice to spend time with Steve because with him Eddie never has the feeling he needs to tone himself down. Can ramble and rant, can be as loud and impulsive as he naturally is without having to worry about scaring him off. Steve never makes him feel bad about himself, accepts Eddie as he is.

Being with Steve always feels right.

They get along. They’re friends now. And the more time Eddie spends with Steve, the more he understands him, sees him.

He’s vulnerable, like Eddie. Has had his fair share of people misjudging him based on what they see on the outside. Where people assume Eddie is scary and mean, they think of Steve as being strong but dumb. Where they think Eddie’s only interests are metal and nerd games, they think Steve’s life revolves around nothing but sports and girls.

But Eddie knows better. Knows all of Steve’s layers.

Sure, Steve does love his silly ball games (something Eddie will never understand) but he also loves to cook and bake. He hates the taste of ginger and is afraid of moths. He can’t sleep with his back turned to the door and he likes the sound of heavy rain pounding against the window. He hates to read but he loves to listen if someone takes the time to read to him.

Eddie cherishes Steve’s honesty. The way he’s not afraid to ask questions if he doesn’t understand something. The way he’ll tell you, straight forward, when you’re being unreasonable.

Eddie likes the way his eyes sparkle when he’s happy. Likes the way Steve snorts when he laughs really hard. Eddie likes the snappy tone he uses when someone (usually Dustin) gets on his nerves. He likes Steve's fierceness, and his courage, and how much he cares.

Liking Steve is easy because he’s a genuinely nice guy with a big heart who never lets his friends down and always gives so much.

Eddie feels lucky to have him in his life, would give everything to keep him there.

-🖤-

They are lying side by side on a blanket, their minds comfortably buzzed from the joint they shared, while the sun sets over Lover’s Lake, painting their bodies in a dark orange hue. A gentle breeze caresses their exposed skin, just a warm touch of air drifting over their sun warmed bodies.

It’s quiet out here, now that most of the people that came to enjoy a day at the lake have already gone home.

Eddie thoughtlessly turns his head to look at Steve who is lying there with his eyes closed, basking in the tranquillity of the moment. Calm and content, so still and at peace. So different from his usual demeanour – always alert, always a little tense, always ready to step in if someone requires his help.

He's... beautiful like that.

And suddenly it is like something snaps in Eddie's brain.

He can’t tear his eyes away, lets them wander over Steve’s soft features and the expanse of his body. Wonders, foolishly, what Steve’s skin would feel like underneath his fingertips, what it would be like to hold him, maybe even get a taste of his lips.

Oh no. Oh fuck.

Something in his gut coils and twists, ripples through him like an electric shock wave when the realisation hits.

It was inevitable, really, and maybe deep down he already knew for much longer than he’d ever admit.

It’s a bitter truth to accept but the confession comes easy now that he allows his heart to speak.

He’s in love with Steve.

Can’t have him, clearly. But that’s just how it is. That’s always how it is.

Eddie turns his head back, eyes pinched close in frustration as he tries to breathe through the stinging pain in his chest. His heart pumps so fast it makes him dizzy, makes him feel a little like spinning on a carousel that’s going too fast.

SHIT! Eddie thinks or did he said it out loud? Because Steve startles beside him and Eddie can feel him ruffling at their shared blanket when he moves.

“Eddie? What’s wrong?”

Eddie looks back at Steve who’s suddenly so much closer than he was before – brows pinched together in question, with small worry lines showing on his forehead, his face hovering over Eddie’s.

“I just realised something,” Eddie answers too honest, doesn’t know where to go from here but he can’t find it in him to lie.

“Oh,” Steve breathes out, his expression softening as the seconds pass. “Wanna talk about it?”

“Uh, I- no. I’d rather not.”

The look Steve gives him shouldn’t sent him spiralling even more but goddamn does he look cute with that stupid smirk tugging at his lips.

Eddie wants to bite him, feels a deep red blush take hold of his face. Maybe he can put it off as a sun burn?

“Who knew that the great Eddie Munson could be so timid?” Steve jokes and okay.

So much for trying to play it cool.

“I’m not-“ Eddie takes a deep breath, “It’s just something I can’t tell you.”

Steve sits up and without being prompted, Eddie does the same. For a moment they just look at each other.

“You know you can tell me everything.”

If Eddie didn’t know better, he’d think there’s something like disappointment ringing in Steve’s voice.

“Yeah, hah, uh- not this, I guess.”

Eddie looks away, can’t hold Steve’s gaze. Nervously he starts to play with the rings on his fingers until a warm hand stops him, causing him to look back up.

“Try me.” Steve’s voice is soft and Eddie knows he can trust him but-

No.

He can’t. This isn’t worth losing him over. Eddie knows how this is going to go. He can’t give anymore pieces away.

“I-“

Only now Eddie realises Steve’s hand is still resting on his own, his thumb gently rubbing circles over the back of it.

Steve has never touched him like this before, so tender it almost doesn’t feel real.

“I like you a lot, Steve.” The words sputter out before he can even try to hold them back.

Eddie winces, tries to avert his gaze but before he can turn his head to the side there’s a hand on his cheek and a firm press of lips on his mouth and-

Eddie can taste weed, and beer, and the chips they shared. Steve’s breath is hot as he sighs into the kiss, his lips are plush and soft... they’re so fucking soft Eddie feels like sinking right into them.

He allows his eyes to flutter close as he deepens the kiss, wants more of the taste, more of Steve. His hands find their way to Steve’s hips, digging and pulling like he just can’t help himself, needs Steve closer.

They part when their startled laughter breaks the tension as Steve tumbles ungraciously on top of Eddie, looking down at him with glistening eyes.

“Fuck, Steve.” Eddie feels giddy, breathless.

“Yeah. Fuck.” Now it is Steve’s turn to blush.

Somehow their lips find their way back to each other, like it’s easy. And maybe it is.

Maybe it is easy because they both want it.

“Want you, Eddie. Wanted you for so long but I was scared to tell you that I-“ Steve inhales shakily.

Maybe they both feel the same?

“I love you, Steve.”

This isn’t just a piece. This is his whole heart he holds it out for Steve to take, hoping that this time, he’ll maybe get something in return.

Eddie holds his breath, feels cold sweat running down his spine as he waits for a rejection that never comes.

“I love you, Eddie.”

#steddielovemonth #love is...#day 20 #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #steddie fic

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kentosovertime · 2 months

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(n.) the delusion of things being more beautiful than they really are

toji x afab!reader, fiance!megumi - 2.7k words

A/N: here's a comeback fic for my blog resurrection, had this idea before I stopped writing and FINALLY got to it, enjoy~

CW: explicit content, explicit language, age gap, revenge cheating, manipulation, humiliation, dubcon language, your dad will do, virgin!reader, fingering, unprotected sex, rough sex, breeding, non consensual videotaping at the end, anger issues (rip the reader)

“For fucks sake!” You screech, the sound of your rage swallowed by a bus that screams by the side of the road as you slam the hood of your smoking car shut.

“At least it’s not in flames-” Starts a random passerby walking their dog, but is sent running when you send them a withering glare. After the weekend you’ve had and it’s only Friday night?

You open your phone, your glare turning to the long list of outgoing calls to every hotel within an hour of your apartment, all booked to no vacancy for a local festival. Your landlord really picked the perfect weekend to kick all their tenants out for “emergency” maintenance for an issue that was reported months ago.

Someone must have threatened to report the living conditions, as his attitude quickly changed when he offered to reimburse the hotel costs if his tenants were forced to stay at one.

Your gaze softens as you scroll through those calls to where Megumi contacted you, letting you know he had made it to the martial arts competition he was coaching this weekend. His soft spot and skill for taking care of children was what initially drew you to him, but right now you wished more than anything you could press on his name and he could come to your rescue like always.

Calling a tow truck to bring your car to the mechanics wasn’t necessarily the issue… but being on the streets for the next couple nights was. With your car in this condition, it wasn’t like you could sleep in it, given your inability to find even a shity motel room in the worst part of town.

You take a moment to mourn the fact that you didn’t move closer to where your family lives before realizing you really only have one option in front of you; Toji.

The contact information for your boyfriend's father mocks you on the screen, daring you to call him, a perfect stranger, to come and save your ass. The lack of familiarity wasn’t based on a lack of effort on your part, having tried repeatedly to get Megumi to open up about his family. The most that you were able to glean was that his mother had passed away and his father wasn’t often present.

“Hello?” A gruff voice answers on the first ring. You didn’t even realize you had pressed his number before he was on the line. “Sorry, Mr. Fushiguro? This is Megumi’s fiance…” An awkward, lasting silence stretches out between the two of you before you clear your throat and try again. “I’m very sorry to bother you, but Megumi is out of town and m-my car is billowing smoke a-and all the hotels are booked-”

Toji smirks as you ramble, rather cutely he may add, grabbing his wallet and keys before he’s even told you yes to both of your requests. He chuckles under his breath as you struggle to not fill the silence, letting your words hang in the air again.

“I’m on my way,” He hums as he twists the keys in the ignition of his car. “Get your stuff out of the car in case it explodes.”

He barks out a laugh as he hangs up and hears a distressed noise of dismay leave your throat. You’re so easily worked up, he wonders if this is why Megumi has done everything in his power to prevent the two of you from meeting… a valid concern. Considering how that ex of his used to try to hang off of Toji. He shudders in disgust at the memory of the girl, still in high school and thinking she was worth a second glance.

Something tells him you’d be a prettier sight.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

This is why Megumi has been telling you no… It takes everything in you to keep your jaw snapped shut as you watch his father prowl up to where you're standing over your suitcase on the sidewalk, nervously glancing at the vehicle he made seem may blow up at any second.

You approach the car hesitantly when he waves you over, shocked that your legs work from how tightly your wound. He opens up the hood to take a look at what’s causing the smoke while you wait for your tow.

“Here, sweetheart.” It only takes him a second to point out what's wrong with your engine, gently redirecting your finger when you point to an area in question. “I wouldn’t hold out too much hope that this is worth fixing… you may be looking at a new set of wheels.”

Anger and frustration well up in you again, even as a flush of heat cascades down your spine at the small touch of his skin on yours. You’re thankful for the distraction the anger provides, given the other option is avoiding looking at how his tight black t-shirt stretches across his torso or drooling like a pitiful little girl. Your fiance is attractive, but there’s still a softness to his face. He lacks the hard planes and sharp angles his father possesses.

“One thing at a time.” Toji squeezes your shoulder with a smirk, leading closer than he should. How is he supposed to help himself when you seem ready to snap with how tightly you’ve wound yourself? The tension in your back only winds further with how he kneads your skin. “If you need it, I’ll pitch in to help Megumi get you around for a bit.”

Your mouth opens to stutter out a reply… or maybe a denial for such an open ended offer, but the horn of the tow truck stops you.

“Let me handle that.” He hums. “I wouldn’t want the tow truck driver to try to take advantage of you.”

Watching him leave, you pull the phone from your pocket, sending Megumi a quick update about where you’re going before your phone dies. You shove it back into its spot after you’ve powered it off, saving what’s left of the battery for when you’re able to dig out your phone charger.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Toji holds the door to his house open for you, bracing his hand on the small of your back as you cross the threshold to a surprisingly tasteful living room.

“What?” You can hear the smirk in his voice, the shock must be written all over your face. “Expect a futon couch and a mattress on the floor?”

“M-Maybe..” You rub your neck with a sheepish look, managing a small chuckle as he leads you down the hall to what you assume is the room you’ll be using. “Something about unmarried men and the lack of dining room tables and living out of laundry baskets.”

The drive over had taken longer than you expected, he lives on the edge of the city, the houses given more space than what you’re used to from your apartment in the city. But it had given you the opportunity to partially acclimate to his overwhelming presence. All you had to do was not look at his face… easy.

“I did have a wife.” He hums in thought. “The art of furnishing a house isn’t lost on me… Anyway.. This one is you.” He flicks on the light as he enters the spacious room, moving until he gets to another door, turning that light on too, the cocky humor back on his face by the time he turns back to you with a playful glint in his eyes.

“You have your own bathroom… shower head’s detachable.” He tacks on, watching you empty your overnight bag, setting your night clothes out before you turn your phone back on and get it attached to a charger.

“That’s not- I wouldn’t-” A shocked squeak flies from your throat as your eyes widen in embarrassment.

“Your face is…” He howls in laughter. “Absolutely priceless. My room is down the hallway, last door on the right. In case you need me.”

“I-” His tone drips with innuendo, making the blush on your face deepen to a shade of crimson. So much for not thinking about him inappropriately.

“So innocent, sweetheart. You’d think you’re still a virgin.” You watch in mortification as your future father-in-law leans cockily against the door jam to your bathroom, your mouth opening and closing, urging something to come out, an explanation, a lie, anything. Just something to make him not make fun of you. “Oh my god… you are. Even when you’re engaged to my son?”

“He…” You wring your hands together, your voice barely above a mumble, looking down at your engagement ring in confusion, as if it could tell you the Toji’s lying to you. “He said he wanted to wait until w-we were married. That he’d wait…”

He never said that it would be his first time, you realize. As quickly as your embarrassment comes, it's replaced with a low, burning fit of rage that’s ready to lash out.

“Wait! You thought Megumi was a virgin?” He snickers meanly. “That’s fucking rich, hun. That ship sailed in fucking high school.”

You listen, shaking with the anger that’s boiling inside of you, as he describes Megumi’s relationship with a girl named Himari, how he walked in on them more than once.

Your mind starts to spin in circles, fueled by this rage that has nowhere to go. As insufferable as Toji is about this, you find your anger can’t be directed at him. It's Megumi that lied to you for the entire duration of your relationship, not his father.

As your mind circles, every insecurity that you’ve had about your relationship that you so easily dismissed before bubbles to the surface one by one. He’s always working or volunteering somewhere. The apartment has just become a place that he sometimes sleeps, if he ever makes it home because he travels around so often. He even said he didn’t like his father. Admittedly, you can see how they would clash, but was that it? Or did he just not want you to meet Toji so his cover wouldn’t be blown?

Toji approaches you, leaning into that delicious anger to purr in your ear. “I could show you what you’re missing, sweetheart…”

Your body doesn’t flinch as your eyes slide to meet his gaze directly for the first time. You nod ever so slightly in consent, your breath uneven from the anticipation that’s built in your core from when you first saw him.

“I’m going to need a little more than a nod, swe-” It’s the spite that pushes you to kiss him first. Spite that doing this will hurt Megumi has much as he hurt you, and spite that if you have to hear Toji call you sweetheart one more fucking time you’d explode.

The groan you swallow from Toji as he presses against you wipes any doubt from your mind as you press against his broad chest to push him to the guest bed and crawl up his body to grind yourself into the bulge in his pants, hungrily seeking out his lips again.

“Eager little virgin, aren’t we?” He growls as he yanks your head back by your hair, baring your neck to him so he can nip at it. The lack of marks there by his son is a further invitation to take you for himself.

“Ah-! Mr. Fushi-” A whimper escapes your mouth as he carelessly shoves a hand beneath the band of your leggings and panties and you squirm to pull away as his fingers immediately shove past your entrance to scissor you open.

“Uh uh. That’s enough of that shit.” He bites a harsh mark into the juncture of your neck, grinning when you cry out with a mixture of pain and pleasure, fat tears welling in your eyes and spilling over, your core spasming around his digits he continues to bully into you. “I’m not fucking stopping until your dripping, sweetheart. I’m going to have you crying that its too much and I’m not going to fucking stop. Even if you beg.”

It stings, the foreign feeling inside of you, but that feeling is quickly replaced by a rapidly approaching orgasm. You can take him, you think as you reach down between you to palm him through his sweatpants. You’re ready for anything he could give you.

Your efforts leave you breathless and end with you managing to work his pant’s down his legs as he rips your leggings from your body along with your panties.

“Fuck-” He growl as you take ahold of his length and line him up with your entrance as you hover above him. “You better slow down or you’ll hurt yourself.”

“You’re too cocky for your own- oh fuck-” You hiss as you allow the head of his cock to breach your entrance. The sting returns and flares into white hot heat at your core, making you double over into his chest as each inch rips its way into you. Your hips rock needily into him, trying with desperate circles to work yourself open.

By the third circle of your hips, Toji loses his patience. His hands reach out to grapple your hips, using his momentum to flip the two of you before he thrusts violently into you, fully seating himself before pulling from your heat to slam home again.

“Broken in now, aren’t you?” He growls, slamming into you a few more times before the sting completely abates, making sure you really feel what he’s taking from you. “Took what you wanted like a greedy fucking whore. Now shut the fuck up and be thankful I’m giving you my cock.”

He pulls out of you to manhandle you until your chest is laying against the covers, wasting no time before he’s hauling your hips back into where he kneels behind you, entering you roughly again and setting a punishing pace.

“You take me like a trained bitch.” He pants, grunting as his hips slap against yours, sending the vibrations straight to your clit as you sob into the duvet. “You lying about this being your first time?”

You don’t answer, your face planted into the covers from the angle he has you bent into. Toji growls in annoyance, gathering your arms behind you to pull you up against his chest before his free hand snakes around your front to deliver a harsh slap to your center, ripping a scream from you.

“Go on slut. Answer, daddy.” He slaps your clit again and you feel yourself gush around his length, pushed to the edge.

“M’not lying, Mr. Fushigur-” Another slap has you trembling, fresh tears pouring down your cheeks as you build impossibly higher. “D-Daddy- M’not you just f-feel s’good. I’ve b-been wet since you showed up.”

“Greedy little thing’s so ignored by Megumi you have to result to fucking his dad?” He coos down at you condescendingly, degrading you further. His voice takes on a cruel tone as he starts circling your clit. “How are you going to explain to your precious fiance that you’re carrying his brother?”

“W-What- n-no T-Toji you c- shit!” You cum suddenly around him, the image of you leaking his cum banging around your head until you're clamping so hard around him you’re pulling his orgasm from him. Shivers wrack your body as you feel the ropes of his cum pump into you and leak from where you’re connected.

The two of you breathe heavily, your panting filling the room as you come down from your highs. In your haze you don’t notice Toji video taping his cock pulling out of your cunt or the cum that gushed out in its wake before playfully slapping your ass and walking into the guest bathroom to get you a towel.

You slump against the covers, wincing as you reach for your phone when you see the screen go off with worried messages from Megumi about being near his father. Followed by numerous missed calls with the same message, pleading with you not to stay with him. That he’d rush home tonight to help you so you didn’t have to stay there.

You scowl at the message, sending off something that gets right to the point.

<Who’s Himari?>

You decline the immediate litany of frantic calls, fully shutting off your phone and shuffling out of bed to join Toji in the bathroom. Maybe the shower could be round two… and if not, you’d happily sneak into the master bedroom to make that a reality.

tag list: @sugarbooger513 @sugarmapoops @roughwithfluff @severelytalentless @yelzoldyck @silversslut @aazaard @dreamyyholland @wobblewobble822 @vantastic210@rafzaha @tirzamisu @chososhoney @littlemochi @bebechinas99 @firdaoz @saoney @meromelo @pelicanpizza @sukunassoulmate @damncakie @katgalle @honeyyjems [[if your blog name is crossed out i couldn't tag you]]

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mooishbeam · 2 months

Text

♡ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: cold and bleak is the village burdened by curses. a town once crumbled and wrecked by tragedy now carries whispers in the wind for their malevolent savior. each year the locals deliver an offering for "the crimson king", a monster—or hero—of few words, who'd tear the skin off any mortal who dared disavow him. you're given the unfortunate responsibility of bestowing this year's offering. however, you slowly come to realize the humanoid you feared buried a living, breathing heart surrounded in stone.

♡ 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: demon!toji x afab!reader

♡ 𝐜𝐰/𝐭𝐰: 18+ MINORS DNI, minor character death, blood/gore, demon au, slow burn, bullying, near-death experiences, trauma/familial trauma, family dynamics, yuji is your brother, secret relationship, lots of angst, fluff, toji is bad with feelings, confessed feelings, comfort towards the end, smut, virginity loss, nsfw tags will be added to each part

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: hii! ive been thinking about starting this series for a couple weeks now so i think ill just put the series tab here hehe. i cant promise its coming out anytime soon, my life has been really hectic lately but its coming eventually i promise!! if u want to be tagged in the parts lmk in the comments! art by kinoko927573 on twitter and the dividers are @saradika-graphics ♡

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬

Malignant Penalty ✧. ┊TBA ⁭ ⁭ ⁭ ⁭

A Burning Hill ✧. ┊TBA ⁭ ⁭ ⁭ ⁭

Promise ✧. ┊TBA ⁭ ⁭ ⁭ ⁭

#toji fushigro x reader #jujutsu toji #toji smut #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #jjk toji #toji x you #fushiguro toji #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jjk series #jjk au #jujutsu kaisen au #jujutsu kaisen angst

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billskeis · 2 months

Note

HEASIAIZIA HAI

CAN YOU MAKE LIKE BILL BEING A POLICE OFFICER AND THE READER DOING SOME STUFF THAT COULD GET HER IN JAIL BUT LIKE ok LISTEN she does the "everybody knows that im a good girl officer" thing (song by Lana del rey playing dangerous) and he lets her go but like the next day they meet again and go on a date and HOOKUP but he punishes her for doing that stuff (perhaps if it could be spraying on like stores if you get me) like punishes her not letting her release TYING HER WITH THE HANDCUFFS UGHHHHahhshshsHAJDSJS

ᡣ𐭩 police officer bill

police lights flash behind as you attempt to catch your breath in an alleyway. on the run, you’re currently hiding from the police as they’ve caught onto you and a couple of fiends vandalizing public buildings with vulgar graffitis.

as you hide your body behind a garbage chute, you kneel down to make yourself less known to the open world.

shouts boom across the street seeming as though a few of the cops have already caught onto your other friends.

bless the heavens that you weren’t caught.. yet.

“haah.. phew..! i think, i think i made it out alive!” speaking to yourself as somebody else was there.

“i don’t exactly think so, schatz.”

“oh sh—”

in your feeble escape, you try to make a run for it until a pair of arms latch onto your shoulders and push your body up against theirs.

“fuck! ow..”

“you really thought that you could get away..?”

you turn to look at the body that’s pressed up against yours. he was tall, and really pretty, actually you wondered why he didn’t just work as a model instead of being a police officer.

black locs adorned his face, with an eyebrow piercing accompanying his right, are they allowed to wear those on duty?

whatever, it makes him look hot.

“well.. i’ve been such a good girl officer.”

“my ass, you’ve been vandalizing the streets and these buildings for weeks and you know it.”

“it adds a little.. character! what can i say, this city could use a little colour to it.”

“as much as i love art, princess, what you’re doing is ILLEGAL.”

“no, what’s illegal is how hard you have this gun pressed into my backside, it hurts.”

“..?”

“um hello?? officer—”

you turn to find his name tag attached to the right side of his uniform. bill. officer bill.

“officer bill, can you at least move your gun to—i don’t know—the side more??”

“oh my sweet little thing.. that isn’t a gun.”

…

“oh.”

your eyes meet his, dark brown irises highlighted in the sunny light, his lips curled into a downward smile although his voice stern. it seems as though this police officer enjoys having you up against him.

you feel a rush of heat go to your cheeks, so you turn your body around. embarrassed, why? fuck if you’d know..

well maybe it’s the fact that the officer that currently has you captive in the back of an alleyway is not only super fucking gorgeous but he’s PACKING.

“i.. i—”

“i’m going to let you go.”

he releases his grip on you and you turn your full body to meet him once more, truly relishing in how tall and slim fit his figure is built. you have to look up at him to make eye contact.

“although under one condition,”

“and that is?”

“you go on a date with me,”

“fuck no. i’d rather be caught dead than go on a date with a police officer.”

truth be told, you did wanna go on this date, but your stubborn nature wouldn’t allow you to say yes so easily. you really wanted to test the waters and see how persistent bill was in getting that date.

“fine then, i am obligated to then turn you in.”

“waitwaitwait nevermind i’ll go on that date with you.”

fuck yourself for being this easy..

this little shit, how dare he pull the authority card on you after you had done something illegal and he do his job?? his face once emotionless now held a smirk on his lips before he slipped you a small paper.

“good girl. now stay here for a little longer, i’ll let the others know i couldn’t find you.“

“..kay, but i’m expecting a lot from you just so y’know..”

you wave him off goodbye as you see his figure disappear from away the alleyway. hearing voices chatter, you can only assume he came up with an excuse to let you off the hook in exchange for a date with you.

“oh trust me princess, i will exceed those expectations.”

“i—um..”

“use your words f’me princess,”

“how is this a date!?”

you’re currently on his bed, the tight little number that you wore is currently riding up your thighs as you clench them together.

prior to this, bill took you out to a restaurant that was AMAZING, and insisted that you go back to his house to drink a bit more.

to your naivety, bill had other intentions underlying his silver tongue words.

with your cunt hovering right above the tip of his dick, you cannot find the words to speak. how is this even possible?? how dumb could you be to sleep with a cop?? stupid stupid y/n.

with each hand on the side of your waist, the soft pads of bill’s fingertips graze over your skin sending a shiver up your spine.

“you’re leaking onto me schatzi, sure you don’t want this?”

“shut up..”

with a harsh slam, bill pulls your hips flush to his, bottoming out. you let out a surprised squeak as your walls molds to his shape.

now you’ve had sex before but not with someone this big, the stretch is something you gotta get used to.

if you were to fuck him again.

“you better watch your mouth, maus.”

“f-fuck.. a little warning would be nice, no?”

“hm, nah..”

bill uses his hands to grasp each side of your ass before lifting you up to slide you up and down his length, the stretch burning a bit but it quickly subsides as he makes you ride him.

electricity sparks from within your body and you feel your stomach starting to clench. every time he brings your butt down to touch his thigh your clit rubs his abdomen momentarily.

with your orgasm coming close, you don’t even care about the noises that fall out of your mouth. you sound like a total slut. not that bill even cares.

“i-i’m close..”

he stops.

“bill..!”

“i don’t think you deserve to come yet.”

you grind your hips in circles in an attempts to release but he brings a hand to spank your ass.

“o-ow..”

“gimme a reason to let you release, hm? you been acting up for weeks, plus the multiple warnings the force has given you just hasn’t stopped you from committing crimes has it..?”

you bite your lip in a remains of silence. no way in hell were you going to beg bill to let you come.

he wraps his arms around your waist to bring your torso closer to his, now bringing his mouth to your bare chest to lick a stripe up from in between your breasts.

a moan in approval slips out of bill’s mouth as he then brings his tongue to lick around your right nipple swirling his tongue around it.

he bites on the bud eliciting a wince out of you. your hips still on his, an achy feeling still felt in your cunt as you yearn for more.

“so? what’s it gonna be maus?”

“please..”

“please what?”

“let me come.. bill,”

“okay, but i have another condition for you.”

you cock your head to the side in confusion, wondering what he’s up to now. that is until he releases an arm off you to reach for something on the bedside table.

oh fuck no.

“you kinky shit, handcuffs?”

“it’s apart of my get-up what can i say?”

“n-no.. i’m not wearing those.”

“well then i guess you can’t cum! i can sit and wait here all night baby.”

tears begin to well from your eyes, all you want is the sweet bliss of release and the man who wanted a date with you in the first place clearly isn’t give it to you unless you put your pride aside.

well, fuck it.

you present your wrists pressed together in front of bill, looking around the room in shame. a smirk falling down on his face as he clicks the metal gadget around your limbs now connected with one another.

“good girl.”

again with no warning, bill pistons his hips up into you at a harsh and fast pace. without falter, he keeps his rhythm to which you cannot catch up to.

choking on your words, all you can do is hold onto him for stability, the pressure brought to your g spot by his tip feels amazing.

“b-bill..”

“gonna be good f’me?”

“yes..!”

your legs begin to shake and quiver as your orgasm washes down on you but bill is nowhere near done with you, never stopping his hips.

“shit, looking at how you’re sucking me in..”

“gonna cause more trouble for me and my friends?”

you’re panting so hard and your brain and legs have become so mushy only small whimpers and whines fall out of your mouth. bill clearly isn’t satisfied with your behaviour, biting into your shoulders.

“answer me.”

“ung! n-no! ‘m sorry. hic ‘m so sorry billy i won’t c-cause you anymore trouble just—hic—please slow down..!”

your cunt all sensitive and sloppy, only squelching noises can be heard in bill’s bedroom as be fucks his dick into you. body so sensitive and overstimulated you let him do you as he pleases.

he leaves sloppy kisses all over your neck and chest calling you dirty names but you can’t help but clench around him even more, milking his cock as if its asking for his seed.

your words fall onto deaf ears, clearly, as all bill does is go even faster at an inhumane pace you didn’t even know was possible.

“a-ah.. i can’t.. ‘m done, bill.. no more..”

“almost done baby, okay? just be a good girl for me and let me do the work..”

“a-ah nooo..”

it hurts. the pressure hurts. but its hurts so good.. with a final thrust, bill finally comes, releasing into your walls with his dick all nice and pressed up into your cervix.

“s-shit, coming..”

his moans are low and nasally. mouth agape and hands still on your hips with a grip so tight his nails dig into your skin leaving a trail of red marks.

your tummy feels warm and full, and bill’s thrusts in riding out his orgasm becomes all sloppy and sticky with how wet your cunt was.

you’re a hot mess, hair falling everywhere and body all sweaty. mouth lolled out as your head rest atop bill’s shoulder drool falling out.

he taps your shoulder and you raise your head to look at him, unable to open your eyes with how bill fucked the energy out of you.

“you okay maus?”

“mhm..” you nod at him as he places a sweet and gentle kiss onto your lips. all you can do is blush and smile, taking in how pretty bill is for a cop.

he shifts while still inside you, grabbing a key to unlock the handcuffs that left little marks of bruising on your wrist.

you rub your hands to smooth over the irritation. bill taking note of this swiftly grabs them and places a kiss on top of the marks. your cheeks burn red as he burn a gaze into your eyes, not looking away.

“did so damn good schatz, hope i fucked all that crime committing business outta ya.”

a/n : i hate this. i’m so sorry anon i feel like i disappointed you 😔😔😔

#tokio hotel #tokio hotel x y/n #tokio hotel x you #tokio hotel x reader #tokio hotel smut #bill kaulitz #bill kaulitz x y/n #bill kaulitz x you #bill kaulitz x reader #bill kaulitz smut #2000s #fyp

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grandmother-goblin · 2 months

Text

Enough Time for Us - Part 1

AO3 - Masterlist

Summary: After surviving a daring rescue of several tieflings from Moonrise Towers, you realize just how short your time might be. Between the Absolute, the tadpoles, and the Shadow Curse, you don't want to waste a moment. Although Wyll had expressed his desires for an old-fashioned courtship, you're worried you won't be able to do everything you wanted with him before time runs out.

Relationships: Wyll x Female!Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Word Count: 4.3k

Chapter Tags: Kissing, thigh-riding, dry-humping, a bit of navigating a new relationship.

“You should have seen them, Alfira!” Lakrissa said far too loudly. She clumsily set her empty goblet of wine down on the table you shared with her, Alfira, and Wyll. “You’re going to have to write a song about this. Maybe two. I don’t think all of their heroics could fit into just one.”

The light from the glowing hearth in the middle of Last Light Inn gave Lakrissa a mischievous glint to her eyes that told you everything you needed to know: she was trying to embarrass you.

Oh, you would get her back for this. You weren’t sure how, but you would.

Sure, you rescued Lakrissa (along with several other tieflings and some Ironhand gnomes) from the bowels of Moonrise Towers — but she didn’t need to sing your praises to everyone who would listen.

At first you thought she was just being sweet, if not overly appreciative. But now? Now you knew she was just messing with you.

Or she was just repeating herself because she was drunk. It really could have been either, considering that most certainly was not her first glass of wine.

Without taking her eyes off of Alfira, Lakrissa gestured to you grandly, like she was showing off a prized work of art. “That one there took down the Warden herself,” she said with faux reverence. “Knocked her right on her ass.”

You shook your head as heat rose to your face.

Even though Lakrissa was just having fun, you wished she would knock it off. Or at the very least, turn her attention to someone who was equally responsible for her rescue. Like Karlach, who was chatting away with Jaheira over a mug of ale alongside Lae’zel and Astarion. Or Gale, who also played a crucial role in the escape plan, was sitting at the bar with Rolan, Cal, and Lia — presumably thrilled to have a fellow wizard to converse with.

Perhaps she could gush about Wyll’s part in the Moonrise jailbreak. Out of everyone, he was the most accustomed to receiving all sorts of praise as the Blade of Frontiers.

But for better or for worse, Lakrissa’s attention was locked on to you. There wasn’t much you could do about it, so you decided it was easiest just to indulge her. At least a little bit.

Wyll’s slid closer to you on the bench you shared and wrapped his arm around your waist. “I’m sad that I missed that one,” he said, gently tucking you against his side. “After the way the Warden spoke to you, I wanted to get a few hits in myself.”

You hummed appreciatively, breathing in the scent of his cologne. It was something like amber and allspice, and so uniquely him that the smell alone filled you with warmth. “I still can’t believe you called her a bitch.”

Lakrissa choked down a mouthful of wine. “The Blade of Frontiers called the Warden a bitch?”

“Not to her face,” Wyll quickly corrected, holding his palm up as if to block the accusation. “Not that I wouldn’t have.”

“She still heard you,” you added.

Wyll took a drink from his mug of ale and innocently averted his gaze. “I fail to see how that’s my problem.”

A giggle bubbled in your chest, but you swallowed it down with a smile. You snuggled closer to Wyll, letting your hand rest just above his knee as you leaned your head against his shoulder.

It had been over a week since you two had officially become a couple, yet could still hardly believe it.

Wyll Ravengard, the Blade of Frontiers, the son of a Grand Duke — all yours.

You had first kissed him at a party the tiefling refugees had thrown a few weeks ago. You would never forget the electricity that sparked between you the moment his lips brushed against yours. How your heart hammered in your chest or how his hands felt on your hips.

How you never wanted that moment to end.

But Wyll was a gentleman.

He kept things chaste despite how you had wanted to throw yourself at him like a heroine on the cover of a romantic novel.

Then there was the night he had asked you to dance with him. Everything had been so proper between you two in the time between your kiss and that night that his invitation honestly caught you off guard. You weren’t even quite sure what he was wanting out of the dance — just some friendly fun or something more?

But his intentions were made clear soon enough.

You could see the lust burning in his eye as you circled around each other. It was so intense, you could have melted under his gaze if he weren’t holding you steady.

When he pulled you in for a kiss, that heat turned from simmering embers to an inferno. A fire that burnt through Wyll’s restraint, turning his kisses from sweet to passionate and his touch from a gentle caress to a firm embrace.

Heat built in your core when his thigh had pushed between your legs. The subtle, almost imperceptible, roll of his hips and his hands tangling in your hair was enough to drive you mad.

He wanted you. You knew, at that very moment, he wanted more than just a dance and a goodnight kiss.

Yet, he still pulled away, smothering the flame.

All he had to do was say the word, and you would have been in his bed that night. He knew that just as well as you did. But he wanted to take things slower.

He wanted to court you properly. Like heroes in those old love stories with ballroom dances and flowers and poetry.

In ordinary circumstances, you would have let him take all the time in the world.

Good men like Wyll were extraordinarily hard to come by. Hells, you had been dreaming of a man like Wyll for years. A man who wanted you for you — not someone who just wanted a roll in the hay.

But your circumstances were far from ordinary.

Beneath the table, well out of view from the two tiefling women across from you, you let your hand coast further up Wyll’s thigh. Just a little bit too high to be considered decent, but not so much that you risked touching him anywhere truly inappropriate for a public setting.

If Wyll had any objections, he didn’t voice them.

In fact, you swore you saw a smirk tug on his lips.

Wyll’s hand slipped beneath the bottom hem of your shirt, the movement smooth as silk. His thumb drew slow, tantalizing circles on your hip as he continued to chat with Lakrissa and Alfira.

Gods, it almost felt unfair. He could turn you into a pile of mush with just a sweet word and simple touch. If you didn’t know better, you might have thought he was teasing you. Tempting you with all the little touches, but never going further.

You wanted him so badly, but you didn’t want to pressure him. He wanted the fairytale romance — he wanted to wait for the perfect moment and for everything to be just right.

But you couldn’t help but worry: what if that moment never came?

What if tomorrow was the day one of you fell to the Shadow Curse? Or to the Absolute? What if the Artefact’s protection wore out or if Vlaakith’s warriors found you?

What if you and Wyll never had that chance with the each other?

Maybe it was selfish, but you wanted to be more intimate with him. Gods, you dreamed of it. There were nights when you and Wyll would share a bedroll, sleeping in one another’s arms and fully clothed, and you ached for something more.

You just weren’t sure how to broach the topic with him. Not since he expressed his own desires regarding your relationship. A fairytale romance, like those told by the bards.

You wished he had been a little more specific about what his desires entailed, if you were being completely honest.

“Have we already finished another bottle?” Alfira’s voice pulled you from your thoughts as she picked up the empty bottle of wine from your side of the table. “Should we get another, or call it night?”

Without waiting for an answer, Lakrissa stood up and placed both hands on the table as she peered over Wyll’s horns. “Hey Mirkon,” she called toward the bar in the back of the room. “I’ll give you five silver to bring us another bottle of red.”

The small tiefling boy popped his head up over the lip of the countertop. “Just gave out the last bottle of red — gotta go to the cellar to get more. We got whiskey though!”

Lakrissa’s eyes lit up at the mention of whiskey. “Bring the bottle of whiskey then.”

“The whole bottle?” Mirkon squeaked.

“Lakrissa,” Alfira warned. “Remember what happened last time you mixed whiskey and wine.”

“I remember I had fun,” she replied and gestured for Mirkon to bring the bottle over. “Don’t need to remember much else.”

You shook your head, but you couldn’t help but smile. Lakrissa might be in for a nasty hangover the next morning, but if anyone deserved a couple of drinks, she did. Especially after everything they went through getting out of Moonrise.

“I’m going to bring another crate up before the whole place decides to switch to hard liquor,” you said, giving Wyll’s leg an affectionate squeeze before you got to your feet.

The crates were too large for the kids to carry safely, but you could manage. Besides, it made for a good opportunity to get a breath of fresh air. The longer you sat cuddled up next to Wyll, the greater the temptation to get even closer to him was. Considering “closer” probably meant fighting the temptation to crawl into his lap and straddle him, it was probably for the best to detangle yourself before that happened.

If you didn’t control yourself, you knew you’d be regretting it later when it came time to sleep. You’d be faced with the impossible decision of sleeping in Wyll’s arms or getting some alone time in your tent to deal with your self-inflicted sexual frustration.

Yep, a bit of space was just what you needed.

Before you could get a step away from the table, Wyll said, “I’ll come with you.”

Well, so much for that idea.

Wyll swung his legs around the side of the bench and stood beside you, slipping his arm around you once again. “Two pairs of hands are better than one, and besides — ” he leaned down, his breath warm against your ear, and whispered “ — it looks like Alfira wants a little one-on-one time with Lakrissa.”

“What was that, Mr. Blade of Frontiers?” Lakrissa asked cheekily, cupping her hand to her ear for emphasis. “You best share with the group.”

Wyll laughed and replied, “The only thing I’m sharing is another drink once we get back. I’ll look for another bottle of Esmalter Red while I’m down there.”

Lakrissa tapped her chin in mock consideration as she sat back in her seat. “I’ll accept that as a compromise, I suppose.”

“We’ll be back in a minute,” you said and started toward the front door.

As the chatter and the music faded behind you, Wyll’s hand moved from your waist to your hand, intertwining your fingers with his. When you glanced up at him, he was already smiling down at you with so much love in his gaze that made your heart pick up speed.

Gods, you loved him so much. Even if the romantic aspect of your relationship was relatively new, you knew you wanted to be at Wyll’s side for as long as he would have you. And you hadn’t felt that way about anyone else before.

There was something so special, so incredible, about him that you could hardly put it into words. In so many ways, Wyll was everything you had ever wanted — you wanted to experience the world with him but you didn’t know if that same world would give you time.

Wyll brought your hand to his lips and kissed the back of your knuckles. “This hand,” he said with a teasing grin, “was getting a bit adventurous under the table there.”

Pushing aside your thoughts, you blinked up at him innocently. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“No?” He pressed another kiss to your hand as you reached the top of the stairs at the side of the building. Without letting go of your hand, he had smoothly positioned you to the side with the railing. “Must have just been my imagination. It has been a little overactive in that regard, as of late.”

“Oh? What sorts of things have you been imagining, Wyll?” you replied knowing full well that he would be far too much of a gentleman to answer if his thoughts aligned with your own.

“You’ll find out,” he said as he helped you down the last step (although you didn’t need the help, the gesture was appreciated). “Just give it time.”

Time.

The one thing that seemed to be running out.

In the space beneath the building, the sounds of water lapping gently against docks echoed off the stone walls. Just a few hours ago, this was the location of a joyous reunion for many — people seeing loved ones they had thought lost over something completely out of their control. If not for the feeling of Wyll’s hand in yours, the whole place felt cold and yawningly empty.

Looking out over the river, you could see that thin border of light that separated you, and the people you cared about, from the Shadow Curse. It was like a singular pillar that held up an entire roof. Without it, everything would come crashing down — no matter how many other support beams were in place.

It all felt so fragile. All it would take is one thing going wrong and… you’d all be lost to the darkness.

Gods, any moment really could be the last, couldn’t it?

Your hand tightened around Wyll’s, as if you could squeeze out a little more hypothetical time with him. That’s all you wanted. Just some time for the two of you to be together without the looming fear of death.

Was that so much to ask?

“Are you feeling alright?” Wyll asked as he opened the door leading down into the cellar and gestured for you to go ahead of him. “You’ve got a bit of a far off look to you.”

There really wasn’t any point in lying to him or in pretending things were fine. Wyll was much better at reading you than most people, which was both a blessing and a curse. He always seemed to know just what you needed, but it also meant you could hardly keep anything from him. While he would never pressure you to talk if you didn’t want to, you didn’t like to leave him in the dark.

You took a few steps down the stairs, staring at the way your hand slid along the railing rather than look at the man above you. You could see his shadow against the wall beside you, the subtle tilt of his head and the curl of his horns. An ominous silhouette to most, but a source of comfort to you.

“I’ve just been thinking a bit about what you said a few nights ago,” you answered, your heart beating in your throat as you slowly continued your descent. “About our relationship, and how you want things to go.”

Behind you, you heard the door gently close against the frame followed by the click of a lock. The stairs creaked under his boots as he took the wooden stairs two steps at a time until he was at your side once more. “This sounds serious.”

You laughed, hoping to ease some of the tension. “It’s nothing serious,” you reassured him. “But it’s still something I wanted to bring up with you.”

“Of course.” There was a hint of nervousness to his voice, but he tried to mask it behind his charming, prince-like smile that could make most people swoon. “I’m always happy to talk.”

When you reached the bottom of the stairs, you shuffled around to face him. The glow from a dim fireplace, one that hadn’t been tended to for a while now, glinted off of Wyll’s scarlet red eye as he gazed at you with a mixture of affection and concern.

Though the cellar was warm, you wrapped your arms around yourself as if there was a chill in the air, trying to muster up some courage.

Gods, did you even have to bring this up? You didn’t, right? But he was looking at you expectantly and the longer you waited, the worse your anxiety got and —

“I don’t want to wait,” you blurted out before you could talk yourself out of it.

Wyll’s brow drew together. “Wait for what?”

You shifted your weight from one foot to the other, looking past him rather than directly into his eye. “To be close to you,” you said, feeling heat rising to your cheeks. “To be intimate. We don’t know what’s going to happen tomorrow and I — I want to share that experience with you.”

There. It was out in the open and there was no taking it back. The worst that could happen was that he would turn you down again, right?

For a moment, there was nothing but stale cellar air and the sounds of the crackling fireplace between you two. You could hear footsteps from the taproom overhead counting out the beats of silence.

You swallowed. Gods, why did you have to say anything at all? He was giving you everything you wanted, yet you still wanted more?

Then a soft smile tugged at the corner of Wyll’s lip and a sense of relief coursed through you. The back of his fingers brushed against your cheek in a featherlight touch before he tucked his thumb beneath your chin. He tilted your face up, making it impossible for you to look anywhere but at his gorgeous, mismatched, eyes.

“I want to share that experience with you too,” he said, resting one hand on your hip as he took a single step closer. “Though, I’m of the mind that we will have plenty of time, and plenty of chances, to have that experience.”

Disappointment landed light a heavy weight in your gut, and you averted your gaze.

Well, it was worth a try.

It wasn’t like you could force Wyll to change his stance on such a thing. And it would have been wrong of you to do anything more than simply express your desires.

Still, it didn’t make the disappointment any easier.

“I hope you’re right,” you conceded with a hopeful long convincing smile, not wanting to put any pressure on him.

Wyll sighed and touched his forehead to yours. His horns were cool and hard against your skin and you closed your eyes, just breathing in his scent.

“I still believe in the old tales of love,” he said as his hand moved to your lower back. “And I want to give you the fairytale because that’s what you deserve. But that doesn’t mean we can’t make it our own.”

You blinked and pulled back just far enough to look Wyll in the eyes. “What do you mean by that?”

A rakish grin spread across his face, sending butterflies to your stomach in a flurry. “I’m saying that if you want to be more intimate” — his hand slipped beneath your shirt, his palm warm against the small of your back — “then we can be more intimate.”

Your heart leapt in your chest as a mixture of surprise and giddiness surged through you. Out of all the things you expected him to say, it wasn’t that.

At least, you didn’t expect him to agree so readily.

Swallowing your excitement, you laced your fingers with his. You didn’t want to pressure him, and you didn’t think you were, but you still wanted to check….

“You’re sure?” you asked and pressed your lips to the back of his hand. “I know you have reasons for wanting to wait, and I don’t want you to change your mind just because — ”

A little huff of laughter passed Wyll’s lips. “I’m sure,” he confirmed. “This is our relationship — we make these sorts of decisions together. I’d much rather you talk to me about things like this rather than just quietly go along with what I said.”

He brought his palm to your cheek, carefully cupping your face as if you were something precious. “Besides,” he added, “I’ll admit that part of me was hoping you’d ask me to change my mind.”

Before you could even think of how to respond, Wyll’s lips brushed over yours in a sweet, silky caress. Light and teasing, if not a little playful at first. Taking his sweet time tasting you. The hand on your cheek slipped behind your head, tangling in your hair as he slowly deepened the kiss.

You couldn’t help the soft moan in your throat as he pulled you flush against him. He coaxed your lips apart with his tongue, sending a thrill of warmth through you with each delicate stroke. Looping your arms around his neck, you held yourself steady as you melted into his touch.

Gods, when he kissed you like this, how could you not want more? How could you be expected to keep your desires in check when his lips were as sinful as they were saccharine?

Wyll guided you backward until your back pressed against the cool stone wall of the stairwell, not once breaking his lips away from yours. He cupped your face, tilting your head back as he kissed you as if he could breathe you in.

A muscular thigh nudged between your legs, putting delicious pressure where you had long desired it. Heat rose to your face as you rolled your hips, slowly and subtly rocking against him.

Moving his hands to your hips, he pressed himself against you as he guided your movements on his leg to match his. The rhythm alone was enough to make your core clench with need. His parted lips dragged down the side of your neck as he let you grind against him. You let out a small, pleasured, gasp when he gently sucked and nipped at your skin.

Gods, he had barely begun to touch you and you were already trembling. Your body craved him like no other, and you had contented yourself with fantasies for so long. For him to actually be touching you like this? To be pulling closer instead of pulling back?

It was indescribable.

You brought your lips to his neck, stifling a moan as you kissed the prominent ridges on his throat. His fingers dug into your hips a groan rumbled in his chest. “Those are sensitive,” he said and nibbled at your earlobe.

You sighed as you closed your eyes. “Sensitive how?” you asked distractedly.

Wyll raised his hips, pressing himself against you and fully pinning you to the wall. The hard outline of him prodded your lower stomach. “That kind of sensitive.”

Your cheeks burned as his mouth hungrily returned to yours. No one had ever kissed you the way Wyll did. It was reckless and restrained, passionate and patient. And you wanted nothing more than for that patience and restraint to run out.

At least, just for a little bit.

Tension coiled inside of you as you grinded against him, winding tighter and tighter as he rocked into you. You were so close. Gods, you hadn’t even taken your clothes off and you were going to come.

“Wyll,” you whined against his lips, not knowing quite what you wanted. Did you want him to stop you? Or did you want —

“Come for me,” Wyll rasped, his voice unlike you had ever heard it before. His grasping fingers slid over the curve of your breast as he took your mouth in another consuming kiss.

Your nails dug into his shirt as your movements grew rougher and more erratic. Your breath came in panting gasps as pressure built deep in your core.

Every muscle in your body tightened. Your mouth fell open as you found your release. Your hips moved of their own accord but Wyll’s hands kept you steady as pleasure wracked your body.

“That’s it,” he soothed as you rode out your climax, his voice husky in a way that made your skin prickle.

He removed his leg from between your thighs just as you began to catch your breath. With his hands still on your hips, he kissed the corner of your mouth and then your cheek, his breathing almost as heavy as your own.

“Tomorrow night,” Wyll said softly as pulled away. His eyes locked onto yours, his good eye dark with barely restrained lust. His hands traced your curves and you could practically see the gears turning in his head.

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes.“Give me until tomorrow night, my love,” he said resolutely. “I promise it’ll be worth the wait.”

With that tiny bit of distance between you, you could see a prominent, hard ridge in his trousers. You must have been staring, because Wyll chuckled and cleared his throat, quickly adjusting himself to hide his erection. Well, as much as he could.

You swallowed and licked your lips. “Do you — ”

He smiled at you broadly as he brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. “Don’t worry about me,” he said. “By the time we pack up these crates, I’ll be all settled down.”

Oh, right. The wine. Lakrissa and Alfira were waiting for them.

But still….

You hooked two fingers around his belt loop and stepped closer. “But what if I want to?”

Wyll cupped your face in his hands and pressed his mouth to yours, chaste and sweet. “Then you’ll have to wait until tomorrow night.”

---

Author's Note: This was meant to be like a 2k word oneshot and it turned into a whole thing. I'm still relatively new to writing in second person POV, so I'm sorry for any mistakes!

#wyll ravengard #x reader #wyll #wyll x reader #wyll smut #wyll fanfic

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loveronlineee · 2 years

Text

The Little Things Part 1 (Eddie Munson x Reader)

Masterlist All Parts

Eddie Munson x Reader (She/Her)

Warnings: Swearing

Synopsis: Y/N is surprised when her classmate Eddie takes interest in her nail art stall. Did he really want his nails done or did he want something more?

Y/N notes: shorter than Eddie

Wanna be on the Eddie Munson tag list? Look here!

Wanna request something? Look here!

The school really didn’t do fundraisers enough. Especially considering the amount of shit that goes down in Hawkins. So when they finally announced that they were going to be raising money for the families that lost someone in the Starcourt Mall fire, Y/N was ready.

Students started getting in small groups to plan what activity they would do. Selling cookies and cupcakes, raffle tickets, face painting. Y/N decided on something a little different. She had always gotten compliments on her nails. She liked making simple patterns, adding gemstones or nail stickers. The girls in her classes were very excited when Y/N told them she was doing a nail art stall.

The day had been going well. Y/N had a constant line at her stall as the girls, and some guys lined up. It was getting near the end of the day when Eddie Munson sat down opposite her. The last in the line.

“Eddie?” Y/N said confused.

“Yeah.”

“You want me to do your nails?” Eddie smirked.

“Yeah.” He dropped his change into the charity bucket on the side of the table. Y/N was pleasantly surprised. Most students had a strong dislike of Eddie. He was weird and loud. But there was something about the guy’s energy that kept drawing Y/N in.

They had a couple classes together. In fact they sat next to each other in one of them which meant they had small conversations a couple times a week.

Over the year, Y/N had found that Eddie was quite different to the perception people had of him. For one, he was not scary at all. In fact he was quite jumpy. Y/N had lost count of the amount of times she had lightly tapped him on the shoulder and he had jumped out of his skin. It made her giggle every time.

“Jeez L/N you tryna kill me?”

“I just wanted to borrow your eraser.”

He was full of positive energy. It radiated off him in waves and infected the people around him. Yeah sometimes he took it a step too far but that was never his intention.

In reality, he was just a happy go lucky dork.

“You got a color in mind?” Y/N asked, organising the bottles. Eddie shrugged.

“I’ll let you chose. Go crazy, the fate of my nails are in your hands!” He said dramatically. Y/N chuckled.

“Okay then.” She picked up a pink bottle and began looking through her flowery stickers. The guys who had got their nails done as a joke all picked this stuff. Y/N looked back at Eddie’s hands. She noted the rings he wore. She then noticed he was wearing his club shirt. The logo contained a flaming sword and a flail.

Then Y/N got an idea. Her eyes widened in excitement and she put down the pink bottle and began sifting through the stuff she kept under the table.

“What’s with the sparkle in your eyes L/N? Should I be worried?” Eddie asked with a smile. Y/N pulled out a new pack of nail stickers and smiled back at him.

“Oh you’re gonna love it.” Eddie smiled wider. He loved her passion. He had noticed that Y/N loved organising little things. Her class notes were always neat and color coded. Her make up was simple but always looked good. Her locker had pictures of her friends and doodles arranged in the inside of the door. Whatever she had planned, he knew it was gonna be good.

After cleaning up his cuticles and adding a base, Y/N took a black nail polish and began painting over each nail. She placed her other hand underneath Eddie’s to steady him. Her hand moved more and more under his as she continued.

“You sure you’re not just doing this so you get to hold guys’ hands?” Eddie joked.

“How dare you think I have an ulterior motive Edward.” Y/N joked back. “How do I know you didn’t come here just so I would hold your hand?” Eddie didn’t reply, because she was completely correct. Well that and he just wanted an excuse to talk to her more. You can only say so much during a class where you’re supposed to be quiet. “Besides, I don’t need to trick a guy into holding my hand.”

“True. Very true.” Eddie agreed. He knew Y/N was quite popular. He often saw her hanging out with the athletes and the cheerleaders, many of which seemed interested in her. Yet she remained single, which kept Eddie hopeful.

Y/N finished with the black and began to open the new pack of nail stickers. Eddie watched as she looked through them all and picked out two. She smiled and showed them. A sword and a flail.

“How’d you feel about a Hellfire theme?”

“That is awesome.” Y/N beamed and began peeling the sword. She went to put it on his ring finger but at the last second changed to his middle finger. Eddie quirked an eyebrow.

“I remember how much you like flipping people off. It’ll be more impactful this way. Don’tcha think?” Eddie chuckled.

“You think of everything don’t you L/N?” Y/N shrugged.

“I try.” Y/N finished it off with some flames on the sword and a tiny red gemstone on each pinky finger. “Okay I think you’re done!”

Eddie lifted up his hands and admired the artwork.

“Y/N L/N you are a genius.” Y/N giggled.

“Y/N!” Jason had jogged over to her table. He glared at Eddie. “You okay?”

“Yeah Jason I’m fine thanks.”

“This punk giving you any trouble?”

“No Jason. I’m fine.” Y/N repeated, slightly annoyed.

“I’m on my best behaviour.” Eddie put his hands up innocently. “Y/N was just doing my nails. I think these ones are my favourite, don’t you agree?” He put his middle fingers in Jason’s face. Y/N tried to hide her laughter but to no avail. Jason looked at her shocked.

“Y/N!”

“Oh come on that was funny.” Y/N admitted. Eddie beamed. He loved when he could make her laugh. Jason huffed and walked away. “You gotta stop provoking him though.”

“I’ll stop when he stops.” Eddie stated. Y/N nodded.

“Fair enough.” She stood up. “Well looks like you’re my last customer.” Eddie stood up too.

“Need a hand packing?”

“Uh yeah actually- oh wait isn’t your club starting soon?” Eddie shrugged.

“I can be late. You’re more important.” The two began putting away all of the nail stuff in a box.

“Wow I must be pretty damn important then cause I know how much you love your club.” Y/N chuckled.

“Yeah well you’re one of the only people outside of Hellfire that’ll give me the time of day so…” Y/N stopped.

“I’m sorry. That must suck.” Eddie shrugged.

“You get used to it.”

“Yeah well I wish you didn’t have to get used to it.”

“…thanks.” Y/N picked up the box.

“Do you think you could take the bucket? I gotta drop it off in our math classroom.”

“Yeah sure.”

The pair walked down the hallway to the classroom. Y/N noted the other students giving her weird looks. “Like I said, you get used to it.” Eddie said. “But don’t commit social suicide just for me. It’s not worth it.” He brushed off, putting the bucket down next to the others in the room.

“Social suicide?” Y/N repeated as they head to the exit and out into the parking lot.

“Yeah it’s not worth it.”

“You mean… you’re not worth it?” Eddie paused before answering.

“Yeah.”

“Well I think that decision’s up to me.” Y/N stated. Eddie stopped in the middle of the parking lot. Y/N turned back around. She could see the surprise on his face. “What? You not gonna walk me to my car?” Eddie smiled and jogged to catch up.

He watched as she put her box of nail stuff in her back seat and closed the door. “Thanks for helping me.” She said as she walked to stand in front of him.

“No problem. Anytime.” Y/N looked up and smiled. He smiled back but narrowed his eyes. “What idea is your brain cooking up now L/N?”

“You ever tried eyeliner?”

“What?”

“Eyeliner. On your waterline.” Y/N pointed to her own on her face. “I think it’ll match your whole look.” Eddie smiled.

“You think?” Y/N reached up and pushed Eddie’s hair out his face.

“Yeah.” The pair heard a noise and turned to see some people coming out of the school. They were whispering and giving them dirty looks.

“See?” Eddie sighed. “You don’t wanna be seen with me. Not outside classes.” He took Y/N’s hands and lowered them down from his face.

“Again, Eddie. That’s up to me.” She leaned up and pecked him on the cheek. “I’ll see ya tomorrow yeah? I’ll bring my eyeliner.” She gave him a wink and got in her car.

Eddie watched as she drove away, frozen in place until she was out of site. He placed a hand on his chest and an arm stretched out to where Y/N has gone.

“Oh L/N you are full of surprises.” He walked back into school with a skip in his step.

He couldn’t wait to see her tomorrow.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #reader x Eddie Munson #stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things season four #stranger things season 4 #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #reader x Steve harrington #steddie #st steddie

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utilitycaster · 1 month

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@notstinglesstoo replied to your post “The thing is, and I haven't gotten a chance to...”:

I saw someone not long ago say cr has always felt like a product to them vs D20 feeling organic and I protected my peace but I did want to ask them if they were brain dead

Oh man I wanted to address this at length because I feel this. My posts have been centered, again, specifically on published journalists picking Daggerheart aprt critically and applauding themselves for doing so despite it being within a couple of hours of its release and therefore any analysis is necessarily going to be based on at best, a skim, when they just as frequently will claim D20 seasons/Kollok are flawless works of genius based on only a partial read, but man D20's got a fandom problem too. (and all of the following comes with the caveat of "I really enjoy D20, and Dropout, and while we're at it WBN and NADDPod which both are half D20 Intrepid Heroes cast, and think Brennan is a particularly brilliant GM, and also it's obvious that the D20 and CR casts are on great terms, and wish the fandom for D20 were more welcoming and enjoyable because I feel it wasn't like this when I first started watching, as a CR fan, in late 2019 and has since curdled into something really weird and bad.")

The first point is the obvious one: technically speaking these are both products. These are performers doing an art form; it is also a portion of how they make their money with which they can buy goods and services. Believing that art is inauthentic when the artist gets paid and acknowledges that is a thing that happens is a fucking libertarian position at best. Like cool, you think only people who are independently wealthy by other means can make art, because it's not real labor, my kid could paint that, etc etc.

The second point is also pretty obvious. I have pushed back pretty hard on the "uwu CR is just watching friends! it's like we're in their living room" mentality among the fandom, which has decreased, thankfully, but like...it did in fact start organically as a private home game, and they decided, when invited, to make it A Show For An Audience. D20 was created on purpose as a show for an audience. This doesn't make it bad or fake - reread the previous paragraph - but in terms of "this is an group of people who really played D&D in this world together even before the cameras were rolling," Critical Role literally is that, and D20 is not.

I think beyond that...my biggest issues with the D20 fandom are first, the level of discourse is abominable. The tag is almost always just shrieking praise and the most surface-level readings possible. I keep bringing up the "Capitalism is the BBEG" mug but it genuinely sums up so much of how I feel; people who want their existing beliefs fed to them as surface-level no-nuance takes. I mean capitalism is fucking terrible but I do not need every work I watch to have a character turn to the camera and say "capitalism is bad" to enjoy myself, and indeed it makes it harder due to the lack of subtlety and grace. For all D20 fans complain about how unhealthily parasocial CR fans can be (and some can be), I find that a lot of the most unhealthily parasocial "how dare they BETRAY my TRUST by having a ship I don't like or not speaking up about every single societal ill" ex-CR fans move over to D20 and then pull the exact same shit; it simply doesn't get called out. Every time D20 fans are like "we don't want to become the CR fandom" it's like "your toxic positivity and unhealthy parasocial behavior exceeds the HEIGHT of what I've seen in CR; the main difference is that CR started in 2015 when D&D was still shaking off the raging bigot dudebros and so in the early days it acquired more of those fans, whereas by the time D20 came around the landscape of who played D&D and watched Actual Play had shifted wildly, and you need to judge September 2018 D20 fans in parallel to September 2018 CR fans, not September 2015 CR fans."

I also feel, and I alluded to this in the post about journalism, and other people have said this better than I have, but the pedestal people have put D20 on does feel like a single...not even misstep, but just, difficult choice that doesn't capitulate to the loudest fans will bring a good chunk of that fandom crashing to the ground. And that includes the journalists. For all the fans of CR can still be obsessed with the cast to an unhealthy degree? The cast and company have put up pretty strong boundaries and have not budged. D20 hasn't, and I think the second they do - and I think it will be for their benefit as a company and a channel - a big chunk of their most vitriolic CR-hating portion of the fandom will viciously turn on them.

#notstinglesstoo #nonrebloggable bc god it's hell week for me i know i've been shooting off opinions bc that is how i blow off steam #but like. i can't have this break containment i got shit to do

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thesupreme316 · 6 months

Note

Can you write how the AEW guys would react to the reader playfully smacking their ass like Bucky did to Seth Rollins that one time (please include MJF hehe)

AEW Stars React To: Their S/O Smacking Their Butt

Pairings: MJF x Reader, Max Caster x Reader, Christian Cage x Reader, Eddie Kingston x Reader, Nick Wayne x Reader, Ricky Starks x Reader, Hook x Reader

Word Count: 750

Supreme Speaks: hey yall, here you are and i hope you all enjoy it. I should have another react post by tomorrow. lemme know what else yall want to see. please remember that you are loved and appreciated.

Warnings: none i think, suggestive content

Taglist: @wwenhlimagines @hooks-martin @hookerforhook @eddie-kingstons-wifey @triscillal @batzy-watzy @sheinthatfandom @cassie0sstuff

I think this is the most I have ever written the word ass

MJF:

Mans would feel accomplished

Like that finally, someone has acknowledged his ass is on another level

We all know how much pride he takes in his ass just look at the edits on TikTok

If you do it in private, he will definitely laugh and try to slap your back

(Honestly he might twerk like a drunk girl)

If in public, he might be embarrassed or confused for a split second…but he’ll go right back to being arrogant

He’ll tweet about it, tagging Max Caster so he can get jealous

Will start wearing more tight-fitting pants so he can tease you more

Eddie Kingston:

Mans finds it funny but is always confused about why/how you do it before he can do it to you

Full-on laughs and cracks a smile when/after you do it

Now you two are in a competition to see who can smack the other’s ass more often

You typically drive-by slaps or wait until he’s reading/watching wrestling to slap it

He does it when you are on the phone or talking to friends

Eddie loves it because it’s y’all’s way of PDA or showing good vibes

I don’t think y’all would do it out in public like in front of fans

But the one chance you did…boi was he a mess

Christian Cage:

Christian would just stare at you with no expression

He was just looking at you as if he was saying “Really”

OR he’ll stare at you in an offended way

He’s surprised that you did it

“How dare you?”

I can totally see him “scolding” you

Says his ass is off limits and promises to “punish” you the next time you did it

To test your luck…you did it again…and let's say you couldn’t sit down for a good while

Nick Wayne:

Lil boi is so cute and he gets all shy

Immediately he blushes and gets all whiney

Face all red while saying

“I can’t believe you did that”

I think he would be too shy to smack yours back

Prolly would chase you around

Would stop after you smacked his ass twice more

Ever since then, he just accepted the smacks….with a red blushing face of course

Hook:

Nonchalant as a mothafucka

But to him, it’s a normal thing, so he doesn’t care

He just continues talking to his friends after he smacks yours as you walk away

To Hook…it’s equality

Mans just loves to have his hands on you in general

If you did it to him while y’all were in the ring…he would break character and laugh

The internet would have a field day with the clip, making it go viral

Now if you slap it extra hard, Hook would just simply pick you up and show you how a real master of the booty slapping arts does it

Ricky Starks:

Alexa…play Bongos by Cardi B

Like Hook, Ricky’s not fazed

In fact, he eats it up and then some

I can see Ricky just winking at you..and ever so gently…SPEARING YOU ON THE BED

He slaps yours back twice as hard

In public….he would pull you towards him and tell you all the things he’s gonna do to you

Particularly finds it funny when you continuously smack his ass while ya’ll are laying down

I def see it as a postcard or a couple Christmas card (merry smackmas)

Max Caster:

THIS HORNY FUCK

Would deadass put his ass out even further for you to slap again

“I can see you’re getting a little handsy”

Looks at you suggestively, probably would moon you

Probably would chase you down just to slap your ass back

If you do it in public, he’s throwing ass like a real one

OOOOOOO I BET HE WOULD LET OUT VERY LOUD AND EXAGGERATED HIGH PITCH MOAN

Which causes you to become embarrassed and swiftly leave the scene

He would at the rest of The Acclaimed and wiggle his brows…looking for someone else to smack his ass

bonus: I truly think he would be like Richard from Wasabi Productions (back from like 2011)

#aew #all elite wrestling #aew imagine #all elite wrestling imagines #aew hook #aew hook imagine #eddie kingston #eddie kingston imagine #ricky starks #ricky starks imagine #max caster #max caster imagine #aew mjf #maxwell jacob friedman #mjf imagine #aew nick wayne #nick wayne imagine #christian cage #christian cage imagine

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kykyonthemoon · 1 month

Text

Limerence

(noun) — a mental state of profound romantic infatuation, deep obsession, and fantastical longing.

⋆˚✿˖° This chapter is a part of a mini-series of dark fairy tales and romance sets in another universe. It consists of three chapters, each with a Male Lead and is separated from one another.

⋆˚✿˖° Character x Reader/MC, from another (OC's) point of view. Reader/MC's pronounce is "she/her/hers".

⋆˚✿˖° Warnings & tags: 16+, MDNI, angst, hurt, thriller, obsession, major character death, dark fantasy, dark fairy tale, necrophilia.

⋆˚✿˖° Howard is my OC.

⋆˚✿˖° Read more chapters:

✦ Rafayel's ✦ Zayne's

⋆˚✿˖° Masterlist

⋆˚✿˖° My friend Cery made an art for this fic here: x

Chapter: The Sleeping Beauty — in which he paints this world blue for his Queen

⋆˚✿˖° Word count: ~3k

There was something about the lakeside cottage which scared Howard to the bone.

That area was formerly abandoned, dingy, damp, and home to numerous insects and reptiles. Few people ventured there except to hunt or fish. An ideal spot for Howard and his fellow children to hide and play when they did not wish to be found out by their parents.

Yet a few months ago, when a young couple bought the property and moved in, all of a sudden it was transformed into a paradise. A variety of peculiar flowers and plants bloomed, forming a meadow surrounding the cottage. The warm light emanated, and the aroma of tea and baked delights consistently made the kids drool. They were occasionally handed sweets by the new owner, and everyone of them was bribed in this manner, oblivious to the fact that their headquarters had just been taken from them.

Nevertheless, that was not what bothered Howard. That cottage made him anxious because, in addition to the abrupt change that he had yet to adjust to, he felt little sympathy for the new owners.

The brain of a ten-year-old child prevented him from generating an answer for this. He knew only one thing: there was an odd vibe beneath the new neighbors' tenderness, as if they were keeping some sort of secret that they wanted no one else to find out. His hunches were usually right.

“Here's your pie.” The husband said as he handed Howard's friend a hot, fragrant loaf of pie. “I'm sorry, kids, but you must find somewhere else to play. My wife is not well. She's in need of a quiet place to rest.”

All the children nodded, except Howard. He paid close attention to his neighbor. The man appeared youthful, clothed simply and comfortably. With his bright hair and blue eyes, he made people feel at ease and cozy. His beaming face appeared quite amiable, and the way he dealt with the children indicated that he was a trustworthy person. However, in fairy tales, witches frequently disguised themselves as nice people as well. And the person who took away these children's playground was clearly not a decent one, even though according to the law, they had every right to do so.

Howard's reluctance was not enough to stop him from returning to the lakeside cottage. He appreciated this location and the tranquility it offered. He went about nearby alone, inquisitive about the area and its new residents, but did not dare venture forward to alert them. On average, he would see the husband awake at about midday. He went into the forest to harvest fruits and hunt, and they occasionally ate the fish he caught in the lake. On the contrary, the wife was rarely seen. Howard sometimes caught her figure sitting at the window, staring out. He was unable to see her face properly, but he had the impression that she was really beautiful and gentle.

On pleasant, sunny days, the neighbor would maneuver his wife's wheelchair out into the heart of the blue flower field he had planted. He rested next to her on the ground, listening to the birds sing and told her about everything that had transpired here, including the children.

"Isn't this area quite calm? You enjoy it here a lot, don't you? I do too. Children come every now and then to bother us. But fret not; I told them to find another place to play. It appears that they are effortless to handle... Such adorable little ones."

The husband paused for a moment. He took a hold of her hand and caressed it. “Children could be a source of delight. Do you also wish we could have a child of our own in the future?”

There was no response from his wife, but he smiled as if he had heard her heart.

Aside from the two odd neighbors, Howard was intrigued and horrified by the flower meadows around their property. He had never seen such flowers blossom in this land before. They were an elegant blue tint, similar to forget-me-nots, but at night they emitted a soft glow under the moonlight. They eventually extended from all sides of the cottage to the woodland and the edge of the lake. They appeared pleasant at first sight, but Howard was alerted the moment he attempted to pick one.

“Don't touch them.” The neighbor said, now known to Howard as Xavier.

“Why is that?” The boy inquired promptly.

“…” Xavier gave not an instant answer. It seemed that he was finding words to explain it to a child. “It's best that you stay away from this place.”

Howard pouted. He did not like the feeling of being unwelcomed.

“Are these flowers poisonous?” asked Howard once more.

“These flowers are for healing… Don't damage them, kid.”

"Oh is that so." The youngster nodded. If the flowers were used for healthcare purposes, he would be more cautious around them. At the same time, he was intrigued about what diseases these flowers might cure.

The peaceful days continued to pass. After a few conversations, Howard realized that his neighbors were not as frightening as he had imagined. They were just a little odd. Xavier did not have any official employment; he simply stayed at home and relied on his hunting talents. He must have chosen to live this way since his ailing wife required particular care. Howard was tremendously curious about his wife, though. Especially after one afternoon when he happened to meet her by the window.

That day, Howard spent his time pursuing his family's mischievous cat. That cat was quite old and sick. Yet for some reason, she managed to find her way to the neighbor's cottage and slept soundly in the middle of the flower meadow. It was said that when a cat knew he or she was about to leave this world, he or she would flee to a place where the owners could not discover. But Howard prayed that day would not come soon enough.

He called the cat from afar, but the animal paid no heed. After a while, he entered the neighbors' private space.

The cat laid close to the couple's open bedroom window. Howard stared for a while, fearful of being caught and chastised. Not seeing Xavier's shadow anywhere, he felt secure in moving on.

Someone sat beside the window. Howard suspected it was the wife. She did not move even though he was certain that in her sitting position, she would have seen the boy approaching. She simply remained there like a statue behind a thin curtain. Howard was hesitant and intrigued. He halted when he was only a few meters away from her.

“Erm… Hell, ma'am… M-May I bring my cat home?…”

He held his breath and waited, but she did not answer. Perhaps she was asleep. He saw her and Xavier by chance several times previously, and in those moments she also remained silent. Her condition must have caused her to be like this. He once had overheard grownups discussing how her entire body was immobilized and that she could not even talk at times.

Without seeing any reaction from the neighbor, Howard reached down and scooped up the cat. At that time, a powerful breeze blasted through the area, causing the curtains to lift. Howard looked up, but the dust in the air caused his eyes to squint. He could barely see a portion of the pallid face of the woman seated in the room. Her eyes were closed.

Then, blocking his view of the window was a familiar tall figure. It was Xavier. He flashed the child an expression of rage.

“Get that cat out of here. Now!”

It was the first time Howard had seen him angry. Although the neighbor remained cordial, the tone of his words dismayed the child. In an instant, he pictured witches consuming children in his head. But Xavier was much more terrifying than that. Howard instantly embraced the cat and fled out of their meadow.

For the following week, Howard refused to enter the area surrounding the neighbors' cottage anymore. He occasionally came across Xavier around town on his way home from school. The man had reverted to his regular state, even waving at Howard despite his intentional turn in another direction.

However, Howard's cat was fearless. She continued to stray off to Xavier's place frequently. One time, the youngster caught the animal on her way home in the early morning, in her mouth a blue flower that only blossomed in his neighbors' meadow.

“What are you doing?” Howard yelled at the cat. He removed the crushed flower and discovered a glittering blue tint in the animal's tongue.

The cat must have swallowed the neighbor's medical plants. Howard kept this a secret because who knew how enraged Xavier might be if he found out? Perhaps there was truly enchantment in those flowers. His family's elderly cat, who had been severely ill, suddenly became healthy again. She ran around and lived with them for a very long time, surprising everyone, but Howard kept his mouth shut.

That was presumably one of the neighbors' mysteries, which the child eventually came to respect. He stopped being inquisitive, but something about the cottage still made him shiver every time he passed by. Perhaps not because he still feared Xavier, but more because of his wife.

One brilliant sunny day, Howard happened to see her sitting alone in a flower meadow. She turned away from the child and appeared to be reading a book. Initially, Howard intended to just observe from afar. By coincidence, the book in her lap glided to the ground. Howard was concerned, unsure if he should come and help or just leave. He glanced about, but failed to locate Xavier anywhere. Perhaps he had gone into town or was hunting in the woods.

Howard went to help the neighbor. He thought about having his whole body paralyzed like that, it would truly be a curse. What would become of him when he could no longer dance and play? What would happen when he could only watch life pass in front of him while remaining motionless as a sculpture? He wondered if the neighbor could still feel the warm sunlight embracing her. What a pity! Pity for the husband who was at her side day by day, taking care of her. They were too young to have suffered such a tragedy.

When Howard approached her, he detected an unusual aroma. The scent was comparable to their flower field, but with a really nasty undertone. The stench made him think there was a dead animal lying somewhere. The youngster leaned down to take up the book. It was not an ordinary book, but it featured characters and illustrations that he could not comprehend. Yet another kind of language? Nevertheless, it was not appropriate to delve into other people's affairs, so he closed the book and returned it to the wife.

Only then did he get a close look at her. And it required all of his courage to stay on his feet.

Seated in the wheelchair was a person, or he did not know if she was still a human then. He still recognized her appearance; still seemed like what he had seen a few months earlier, but half of her face was lost. Howard saw half of the skull covered in pale skin, while the other half had rotted just completely. The white bones were utterly visible, from the cheeks to the chin. Howard claimed to have seen her collarbones exposed with no skin covering them, despite the fact that the majority of her body was clothed in heavy layers of clothing. She presumably lacked a heart inside all of that.

She was a dried skeleton draped in decaying human skin.

Cold sweat streamed down Howard's spine. He trembled and placed the book in her lap, where her decomposing hands were nicely positioned. Before he could shout, he heard the rustle of trodden leaves behind him. Bewildered, he whirled around to see Xavier emerge from the forest, wielding a sword.

It was unimportant if he had been apprehended yet. Howard sprinted all the way home with all the strength left in him. His fever reached forty degrees celsius, and from that day on, he vowed never to return to that wooden cottage by the lake again.

“My dear,” Xavier's warm voice like the sun filled the room, which included a bathtub full of flowers in the center. He lifted his loving wife from her wheelchair and tenderly dipped her into the bathtub. The cool blue water enveloped her entire body. He put in a few other necessary details before kneeling alongside her.

“Today is our five hundredth day on this planet.” Xavier used his hand to catch the magical water and let it fall through his fingers, touching his beloved wife. “Do you like this place?”

The wife was silent as she always was. Her eyes closed, allowing Xavier to soak her hair and face. Half of her face had decayed, revealing bones and teeth. But it was of no significance; as soon as this ritual was over, she would revert to her original beauty.

"That neighbor kid saw you." Xavier's voice rang evenly. "He raced away. But do not be sad. "To me, you are always the most beautiful person."

Xavier picked up a flower from the water and set it in her hair. Nothing in this universe could compare to her. Even if her physique had changed. Even if she was only a withering skeleton.

"I always love the way you look, no matter what."

Xavier's hand continued to repeat the ritual of taking water and pouring it all over her body. Moments afterward, a new layer of skin began to develop around the decaying remnants.

"Worry not that others would discover our secret. That child wouldn't open his mouth. Even if he does, I have a way to silence him. Nobody will believe him. All of this was due to my carelessness. I left you alone out there."

The rustling sound rang out again as Xavier bathed his wife. From head down to neck, body and arms and legs. Her body was gradually restoring under the effect of the magic water.

“I apologize to you, my Queen. From now on I will never let you be alone."

He kissed her forehead. The water was as blue as the flowers outside their cottage, covering her exposed body. He planted them for her. As long as they grew, she would not perish. They would be together forever. Nothing could separate them anymore, not even death.

Xavier, the Crown Prince of Planet Philo, was to wed the girl he loved. Yet fate tore them apart, as she endured a terrible disease and did not survive much longer.

“Wait for me. I will go find a cure for you. When I return, we shall hold the wedding immediately.”

Xavier whispered beside her sick bed before departing. He and his fleet had discovered traces of a legendary flower, said to have the ability to cure all diseases. He traveled light years to find it and returned, only to find her lying cold in a coffin.

It was supposed to be their wedding day, but when he came back, a funeral was all that greeted him.

Her family members told him that she could not wait for him, and all she wanted for him was to forget about her and move on. But, how could he? He had no desire to go through a single day without her.

He refused to accept her demise, grasping the flower in his palm, he stole her coffin.

They traveled to another world where no one knew or could track them. He performed the wedding ceremony for only the two of them. Then he planted the miraculous flower he had found and utilized it to nurture her. It failed to bring the dead back to life, but it did keep her body from withering. As long as the magic from these flowers lasted, she would forever be young and beautiful.

They would live, happily ever after as in a fairy tale. She was his Queen. For her and only her, he could paint this whole planet into a blue meadow.

“Stay with me… Please…” He begged. His tears combined with the poison created from blue flower petals that he poured over her body. He held and kissed her eyes, lips, then fingers, and hands. He wished to feel her warmth again.

Yet that warmth had been lost, along with her soul. What Xavier could hold on to was only her body, which no longer felt anything, including his love.

Many moons later, the woodland transformed into a fascinating forest of blue flowers. Everyone was drawn to its beauty, yet only those who had witnessed the horrors concealed deep inside the forest held its tale in high regard. The tale of Sleeping Beauty and her Prince.

Howard, now an elderly man, had returned to his hometown after spending several decades far away. He could still recall the path back to the wooden cottage by the lake. In fact, the blue blossoms led him back.

Perhaps, his neighbors no longer lived there. Possibly it was his old eyes that were deceiving him. Howard saw that nearby the cottage was the silhouette of a familiar woman still, the most beautiful flower in that meadow; she was sitting and reading a book. And, always at her side as a shadow, that young man with the same features as in his childhood memories placed a hand on her shoulder. He gently turned his head, glanced at Howard, and smiled.

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bullet-prooflove · 14 days

Text

Graffiti: David Hale x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989

The first time David Hale meets you, he arrests you for spray painting a dick on your ex’s house. You’ve just finished off the balls when he slaps the cuffs on your wrists and escorts you to the police car with a smile because truthfully he takes pleasure in seeing Jax Teller so pissed off.

“You have impressive attention to detail.” He tells you with an amused expression as he starts the engine. “You could probably make it as an artist if you applied yourself.”

You laugh because that’s exactly what you do when you’re not drawing dicks or writing expletives on someone’s front door.

“Did you love him?” He asks, glancing in the mirror as he takes the scenic view to the station. You’re a refreshing change from the crowd he’s usually arresting on a Friday night. You’re entirely sober to start with and a complete spitfire.

“No.” You say as you look out of the window and stare out at the passing trees. “I just don’t appreciate him telling the rest of the group how I like to get fucked and inviting them to take a ride.”

He feels his jaw clench just a little when he hears that. It isn’t a secret that the club shares their women, that they’re nothing more than a commodity. You don’t seem like a croweater, they wouldn’t risk their status by doing something like graffitiing a dick on the house of the Vice President. He thinks you just got caught up in the allure of Jax Teller, the same way so many other young women have.

It’s about a mile away from the station that he decides to let you go. He doesn’t think you’ll be returning to the club anytime soon, you’ve made your point by tagging Teller’s house, he doesn’t think he’ll see any more trouble from you. He lets the car idle for a second under a streetlight before he steps outside and opens your door for you.

“Stay away from Teller.” He warns you as he undoes the cuffs on your wrists. “I’m not going to jam you up tonight but if I catch you at it again, it’ll be a different story.”

The next time you see each other is at a bar out of town, he goes there sometimes when he wants to be anonymous. Charming is a small town, everyone knows his face. He can barely go two steps down Main Street without someone complaining about their neighbour feeding the squirrels. Being away from that, it gives him mental space, allows him to breathe.

You look different when you slip into the stool alongside of him, your hair’s a little shorter, your makeup a little lighter. He likes the look, it suits you.

“Hey, it’s the graffiti artist,” He greets you as he takes a sip from his beer. “Drawn anything obscene recently?”

“No.” You smile back as you order an Old Fashioned. “But I’ve been life modelling for a couple of art students recently so I’m probably the subject of some.”

He almost spits out his beer, because you…

Truly, you are something else entirely.

You spend the night together at that bar, shooting pool, sharing a few beers. It’s been a while since he’s felt so relaxed, that he’d been just David instead of Sheriff Hale. You make him laugh until his ribs hurt, until he’s drunk off more than just the booze at the bar.

When he walks you home that night, he doesn’t expect you to kiss him, or undress him, or ride him like the beautiful, wild thing that you are.

When he wakes up the next morning he’s alone amongst your sheets, the scent of your perfume clinging to his skin. He raises his head to see you sitting in a chair across from the bed wearing his t-shirt from the night before with a sketchbook resting on your knees.

“I need this back.” He smiles, tugging at the hem when you raise to your feet and approach the bed.

“Take it off me.” You dare him, so he does and it starts all over again.

It isn’t until he’s tugging on his jeans an hour later that realises what you were drawing. It’s a picture of him, sleeping. He looks so peaceful in that moment, like he doesn’t carry the burdens of the world upon his shoulders.

“Is this how you see me?” He asks you, his throat tight with emotion.

You frown as if you don’t understand the question.

“That’s how you are.” You tell him as you tear the page out from your sketchbook and hand it to him. “Something to remember me by.”

“I don’t think I could ever forget you.” He tells you as he tucks it into his wallet.

It’s that night at the station when he’s sitting in his office that he takes it out again. His fingers trace over the pencil work and he can’t help but think that maybe this would be the man he could be if he was happier, if he didn’t hold onto everything so damn tightly. It isn’t until he folds it back up that he realises you’ve left your phone number on the back.

Call me the next time you want some fun, you’ve scrawled above it.

He pulls out his cell phone and dials.

Love David? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

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#david hale #sheriff david hale #david hale x reader #soa #sons of anarchy

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