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nmakii · 3 months

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GETTING CAUGHT IN THE MOMENT… LIPSTICK ON YOUR FACE

— alastor + lucifer + vox getting caught with lipstick stains all over them…

— generally gn!reader. guys can wear lipstick too smh

hehe i got a new lip tint (˶‾᷄ ⁻̫ ‾᷅˵) maybe alastor’s part is a little self-projected

— alastor

alastor himself isn’t one for physical affection. in fact, the thought itself makes him feel dirty. someone else’s skin against his… eugh…

though, when it came to you, he couldn’t keep his hands to himself; hands clawing and playing with your hair, wrapping his arms around your neck, pinching your cute cheeks, holding your hand… it’s almost as if he’d double-die without you near!

and the only thing he’d enjoy more than that would be having his affection reciprocated; interlocking your arm with his, a surprise hug from behind, a kiss on the cheek, they are all more than appreciated! especially the thing about kissing…

a kiss from you is simply just exhilarating. the suddenness yet sweetness of it, it’s truly the purest form of love, regardless of if it’s familial, romantic, or platonic— it’s the purest expression of your love for another person.

so, just imagine alastor’s reaction to your new lipstick, strawberry red to give your lips a glossy color, yet still light enough to appear natural. the pretty hue of red complimenting your face features perfectly by giving it the color it needs as to not appear pale.

absolutely gorgeous. so confusing how a simple amount of color could make you look as if you were an angel from heaven itself. you quite literally took his breath away from just applying a new lipstick…

at some point, alastor had reached some sort of limit when he finally caved into his inner desires, bringing you to a secluded place in the hotel, his hands moving to your hips and hair.

he couldn’t wait any longer to place his lips on your’s, your lipstick smearing all over his thin lips. kissing him from his cheeks to his jawline, leaving light pink stains all over his skin.

he groaned at the feeling of wet lipstick all over his face, and at the same time reveled in the ways you are telling everyone that the only one who could see the radio demon in such a needy and doe-like state would be you; he’d be yours to fool around with, and yours to do however you’d see fit. just as you are his— no one else’s. the smeared lipstick on the side of your lips should send that as a statement enough to whatever lowlife hooligan would even attempt to sweep you off your feet.

when the two of you had returned, it was a strange sight to say the least… alastor’s face and jaw covered with pink lips, and you with your lipstick smudged and smeared off your lips, instead all over you neck.

“well, uh… you two look like ‘ya had lot’sa fun…” angel said monotonously, awkwardly trying to keep up conversation. “ohh, most certainly!” alastor grinned, his transatlantic accent popping through the radio static.

he knows he could’ve wiped it off… he has a handkerchief in his back pocket, he could’ve easily saved himself that awkward conversation.

but, he didn’t.

could you blame him? he wants all of hell to know that both you and him off-limits for good.

— lucifer

when many imagine the king of hell, it’s hard to think he’d be a social piranha. the same case had gone for you.

who knew lucifer was still as pure of heart as he was during his time in heaven? and who knew he’d fall for someone so easily after the sudden disappearance of his wife?

when he saw you, it was practically love at first sight! your big eyes, your shiny hair, and those big pretty lips of yours that he just wanted to kiss so badly…

he listened carefully as charlie introduced you to him, trying to remember every detail about you and every feature on your face, stuttering over his words once it was time to speak for himself.

and somehow, despite his meekness towards you and your awkwardness whenever he was around, you two ended up in a relationship— with the help of vaggie and charlie’s meddling in pushing you two together.

the two of you loved each other, of course… but it was always hard to express. the only way lucifer knew how to show his love was through his presence and gifts. he wasn’t hell’s greatest kisser, but he tries.

and, today— it was your 5 month anniversary… quite a long time, the hotel’s been good so far, no major threats other than one of cherri bomb’s occasional explosions. and because of how long it’s been, you decided to do something a little special… put on some relatively expensive clothes and make-up your face a little bit.

when lucifer saw you all dolled up, he was honestly a little stunned. lips as red as an apple, hair as soft as silk, the words were stuck in his mouth. “w- er- wow..! i’m not dressed up or anything— agh, this is awkward..” lucifer muttered. “hey, it’s ok… this was a surprise for you, y’know?” you said, comforting him slightly.

“you look… stunning today” he smiled, carefully putting down his anniversary present for you on his work desk, still wrapped in a red ribbon. he made his way to you, hands making their way to your cheeks to softly cup them as he gently leaned into you for a kiss.

he released a breath he didn’t know he had been holding as you kissed his face all over, as if healing the wounds of his past with his present. his banishment into hell, lilith’s abandonment, they all didn’t matter anymore, you are the present and the future.

he wrapped his arms around your waist in a hug as he kissed your forehead, the residual lipstick from his lips smeared onto you.

lucifer laughed awkwardly before using his finger to carefully rub off the pink stains on your forehead. “haha… c’mon, i got a dinner reservation in the lust ring tonight…” he laughed, interlocking his arm with yours.

“don’t you wanna take off that lipstick on your face first?” you raised an eyebrow at him. “i mean… i dont minddd… so, it’s only if you wanna take if off” his eyes wandered, his cheeks growing flustered “hmm… nah. i want everyone to know you belong to me now.” you grinned mischievously.

and when the two of you walked out of the hotel lobby, charlie went to wish you a safe trip and happy anniversary before she noticed the stains on her dad’s face. “err… dad..? you gotta a little something there…” charlie muttered as she pointed all over his face. “ah..? yeah, i know” he laughed it off, proudly showing off to hell how hopelessly devoted he is to you.

— vox

vox was a busy man. from having many public appearances, to coming up with new ideas for voxtek, to putting out valentino’s temper tantrums, he barely had the time for romance.

barely. he loved you, truly. he keeps you dear to his heart, no matter how busy he’d be, vox would still make time for you late at night.

everyone had known you, why wouldn’t they? you’re the partner of one of the most influential overlords in hell, that’s a feat that is amazing to accomplish, dating vox in itself has made you into a sort of local celebrity; causing you to be invited to many galas, parties, and occasional raves.

and tonight happened to be the night of one of those parties. zestial had invited you to a formal dinner party, an all star guest list filled by many of the goetic princes, various overlords in hell, and other local hellborns such as verosika mayday.

“please, voxxx? just this once, it’s only like 3 hours!” you grumble as your apply a coat of ruby red over your lips, checking your appearance in the bathroom mirror. “i can’t.. i have a 5:00 with val and velvette, then after that, a board meeting about new gadgets to release…” vox groaned, already pissed about the day ahead.

“fine then, your loss.” you pouted, rolling your eyes as you left the bathroom and into the bedroom. “holy shit…” vox sighed out. “you look… really good, my love.” he walked over to you, his hands moving to your body, outlining the clothes’ stitching as he recognized it to be the one he had custom-made for you.

your hands rested on vox’s shoulders, forcibly making him lean over a bit before leaving various kiss stains all over his screen.

vox visibly tensed as his screen started glowing a bright teal, showing his clear embarrassment as pink smudges fogged his screen.

his breath heaved as his hands moved all around your body, desperate to find some kind of relief to his pent-up stress.

ending your kiss attack all too soon on his lips, you pulled away, your lips slightly pale now as you grinned at him. “spend the day looking like that and i’ll give you more after work” you winked, taking your belongings and leaving out the door, leaving a flustered vox in your bedroom, covered with lipstick stains.

“vox… the fuck is going on with your face?” velvette snarled. “it looks as if you got fucking mauled by a bear pretending to be a woman.” she yelled, her british accent making her trip over some consonants.

vox sighed, hearing valentino mutter some sort of dirty comparison of vox to a prostitute. “instead of focusing on me, why don’t you put your efforts into our agenda today?” vox frowned, his tone clearly saying that he’s holding himself back from releasing a flood of curses onto the two…

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chelseeebe · 1 month

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and they said, speak now

18+. mdni. smut. mentions of cheating. femreader!xeddie. no use of y/n!

a little second chance romance story wherein eddie is invited to your wedding, though he’s hopeful that it’ll never actually happen.

a/n: wanted to get this finished so i could start writing a follow up for too sweet (bc i love it and i love mean asshole eddie) so i hope it bridges some sort of gap while i write :p switches pov a lil bit but it’s all marked out 4 ya.

“-gettin’ married to who?” eddie spits, barreling into the living room with a mouthful of cereal.

steve looks up from the paper invite and shrugs, “mark?” mouthing a quiet i don’t know as robin looks between the two.

“and i’m invited?”

“i mean.. it says all of us so..” he looks up at eddie, “do you even want to go?” dubious at eddie’s overly keen questioning.

eddie’s bewildered that he’d even ask, “‘course we’re fucking going,” shaking his head, still gripping onto his bowl of cereal, “i didn’t even know she was datin’ anybody else.. what the fuck.”

robin shares a look with her best friend, thinking eddie hasn’t seen. he knows exactly what they’re not saying. it doesn’t exactly need to be spelled out for him.

perhaps eddie hadn’t ever really gotten over it. it being you leaving to new york for college, breaking up with him in the process.

maybe they were justified in their judgemental glances, it’d been years since you’d left. he should be over it by now. evidently, you’ve moved on. why hadn’t he?

but he wasn’t and now he’s not sure if he’ll ever be.

the five of them shovel into jonathan’s car, robin squished between eddie and steve in the back with their bags piled high in the trunk.

eddie stares out of the window, he had started to regret agreeing to go. his ex-girlfriend, whom he wasn’t exactly over, was getting married to some fuckhead he’d never met and now he had to go and wear a suit and pretend to be happy about it all.

“i still can’t believe she’s getting fucking married,” he grumbles into his fist.

robin grins, nudging her elbow into steve’s ribcage, “oh this going to be so much fun,” elated at his misery.

jonathan sighs quietly, throwing his head back against the seat and slyly turning the volume up so as to not hear any more of eddie’s whining.

there’d been months of it, so he’s not surprised.

eddie is fucking elated to reach the hotel, gawping at the grand exterior as they get out of the car, stretching their legs after the long trip.

“jeez,” robin utters, staring at the tall building with her mouth hung open, “at least she’s marrying rich, hey?” wiggling her brows at eddie’s less than excited face.

he doesn’t rise to it, ignoring her obvious attempts to get him riled up.

it’s even nicer inside, gold plated ornaments decorate the walls, outdated paintings of old people he didn’t care to know, joining them.

they’re in the process of checking in when a familiar voice comes from behind, a small, meek, “hey guys!”

it’s you.

they spin, sharing tired smiles as you stand looking horrifically awkward. like somehow you hadn’t shared years and years of history with every single person here.

everyone else gets a short, half hug, exchanging niceties while eddie waits patiently for his turn. he doesn’t think you’ll even acknowledge him.

but your eyes lock, that same sinking feeling that he felt all those years ago as he watched your car pull out of hawkins plagues his stomach.

“hey,” you nod, tense as you open your arms for a hug.

it’s more than he’d ever expected, now finding himself stuck, unable to embrace the situation. you’re exactly the same and yet he feels like he doesn’t recognise you. barely touched by the graces of age, still the same girl he was sure he still loved.

eventually he pulls himself together, wrapping his arm around your shoulder to pull you in.

fuck.

you even smell the same. the heavy vanilla scent of your shampoo wafts through the air, transporting him back in time to nights shared in his cramped room, talking about the future together and how you couldn’t wait to get out of hawkins.

it’s utterly ironic, and not to mention heartbreaking, to think about now.

“hi,” eddie musters, sounding as pathetic as he felt.

the others watch on in anticipation, expecting a screaming match only to be met with whatever the fuck this was. dancing around each other like two complete strangers.

“how.. uh, how was the drive?” you ask, fiddling with your fingers, the way you used to when you were nervous.

“long,” he smiles meekly.

there’s too much he wants to say, desperately wanting to just shake you and ask what the hell you’re doing getting married to someone who’s not him.

besides, four sets of eyes watch both of you eagerly, hoping for an argument or maybe the exact opposite.

“there you are!” a gruff voice bellows, coming out of the mouth of the most insufferable looking man eddie’s ever seen.

he walks over with his shit-eating grin, taking you away from eddie’s grasp, leaving an aching in his fingertips.

your brows shoot upward, sighing softly, “everyone, this is mark.. mark, these are my..” your eyes dip, unable to meet eddie’s gaze, “friends.”

mark’s hand extends towards eddie, grinning like a complete fool as he shakes it. “nice to meet you man! heard so much about you,” his grip tight, squeezing the tired bones in his hand.

eddie wonders if he’s asserting his dominance, if you’d told him who exactly he was. about all those years you spent as his girlfriend. about how he used to make you cum in two minutes. or perhaps all the times you swore that if you had to get married, it’d be to him.

eddie doesn’t count on it.

eddie waits. and he waits. and he waits.

pacing the floor of his room, contemplating if he truly had the nerve to stalk the halls to your room or if he’d have to sit here and regret it forever.

fuck it, he thinks. there’s no guarantee he’ll even knock on the door, he just needs to get out of here and at least try to.

eddie’s acutely aware that nothing he says to you will change your mind in fact, he thinks you’ll more than likely slam the door in his face.

but he’s gotta try.

- reader’s pov -

it’s a quiet knock, barely audible as you toss and turn.

you debate even answering, too caught up in your nerves to care about some bridesmaid complaining about her dress or your mother prattling on about the floral arrangements again.

but then they knock again, louder this time though it sounds more unsure, a hesitant wrap of the knuckles, pulling yourself from the comfort of your blanket to see what they wanted.

you hardly register who the person is before immediately wanting to slam the door in his face.

“what are you doing?” you hiss through the small gap in the door, noting that it was somewhere between 11 and midnight.

“i wanna talk,” eddie frowns, carefully wedging his foot between the door, as if you wouldn’t immediately notice.

“we don’t need to talk,” you refute, scowling at your batshit crazy ex.

he sighs, looking around the empty corridor, knowing he shouldn’t be here right now. “can we.. i just wanna talk.. that’s it,” his eyes wide and begging.

you take pity on him, you always did when he had that pathetic frown on his face. like a dejected puppy that needed you to cradle him.

something in your head screams out to just close the door, it’s a terrible idea and you know it.

alas, you pull it open a few more inches, giving him the chance to slide inside before it’s shut again, turning the lock immediately.

if anyone were to walk in, your relationship would be ruined, tomorrow would just be a waste of money and you’d be a social pariah in your circles.

“why didn’t you tell me that you were getting married?”

the nerve to ask that question like he deserved an explanation. you haven’t even seen the man in years and yet, he feels as if he’s owed something from you.

“i didn’t know i had to,” you shrug, standing a few feet away from him, hoping to keep the distance.

eddie scowls, brows knitted into a line across his forehead, “you don’t- i thought we were friends.. friends tell each other those things.”

“you haven’t seen me in years eddie!” raising your voice despite being surrounded by your friends and family. “what gives you the right to march in here and ask me that?” stepping closer with every word, taken aback by his sheer nerve.

his eyes harden, jaw tense, “you left me- you did that and then the next time i hear from you, it’s because you’re getting married? s’that not completely fucked up to you too?”

“i didn’t leave you! i went to college, like people our age are supposed to! it’s not my fault that you’d rather sit in jeff’s basement pretending to be a rockstar,” snarling your upper lip, hoping you’ll hit him right where it hurts.

if nothing else, it’s frustrating. eddie was always talking about his big dreams and how he was going to get out of hawkins once and for all, make something of himself and never look back.

but you got tired of waiting for that to happen. years and years of soon and i’m not ready’s had left you pretty hopeless for any kind of future with him.

he shakes his head, scoffing, “oh? so should i have followed you to new york? watched you change everything about yourself for some asshole?”

there’s a lump in your throat now and weirdly, not a speck of anger. at least not about his words for your fiancé. more so about his complete disregard of your feelings, the dreams you put on hold for him.

“i didn’t.. i didn’t change,” bottom lip trembling, “this is me eddie,” nostrils flaring as you skulk closer, “you just don’t know me anymore.”

“i know you better than he does,” he fires back, adams apple bobbing in his throat. a sincere, honest tone.

it only makes you more frustrated, the audacity to come here and act like this, the day before your wedding.

you laugh in his face, a maniacal cackle, “you’re deluded,” gathering all of your strength not to punch him in the face, “you should leave, before you embarrass yourself any more.”

he’s almost frantic now, grasping the air, “i’m not the one embarrassing myself here. the you i know would never want this.. what happened to that girl who promised to marry me? where’s she?”

“people change eddie! you clearly haven’t!” you hiss, prodding your finger into his chest, hoping you’ll somehow set him alight with your fingertip.

he grabs your hand, keeping it close to his heart as his frown sets in. “tell me- tell me that this is what you want, the big wedding and fucking mark and a coupl’a kids, tell me and i’ll leave,” downturned eyes, begging himself not to cry.

you want to scream, ferociously snatching your hand away from him before you turn away. sick to death of looking into his glossy chestnut eyes. loathing the feeling of your past flooding back into your brain.

a few years ago, you would’ve been certain that eddie was the one you were going to marry. marriage wasn’t something you were ever particularly interested in, your parents hadn’t been the best example. but if it had happened, it would’ve been nothing like this, maybe in the tiny chapel in hawkins, a couple years from now, a small, private ceremony with your friends and family. you’d be lying if you said you had never thought about it.

about what could’ve been.

somewhere, buried deep inside, you longed for it.

eddie doesn’t budge, hearing the sounds of his heavy breathing from behind. you can picture that stupid look on his face, pathetic and sullen as he waits for a fleck of hope.

you turn back, praying that you’ll have somehow found the strength to tell him to leave in the two seconds it takes to face him.

it doesn’t come, the lump in your throat dissipating only to be replaced with a fiery pit in your stomach.

and then a moment, where neither of you have the guts to speak any longer, in what feels like the most intense battle of eye contact you’d ever been a part of.

but it’s over as quickly as it started, both of you lurching forward at the same time, lips crashing together in a hungry kiss, finding the side of his head for leverage as his antsy hands grip your waist.

the rest is just a silent routine, one you two have been through a hundred times before.

your back crashes into the desk, pressed into the wood by his torso. a hand squeezing your thigh as you’re helped onto the surface.

the metal on your fourth finger aches, as if some higher power is attempting to intervene, to stop this mistake before it goes too far.

it’s dutifully ignored, spreading your legs to allow him between your soft thighs. the thin material of your shorts meant that you could feel everything. his cock jumping as it brushes against your heat, low grumbling into your mouth at the action.

his jacket slips from his shoulders and onto the floor, your soft hands running down the length of his arms, brushing against the tattoos you used to spend hours tracing.

eddie’s hands roam your body, between your thighs, tucking underneath the elastic of the shorts as your hips lift in unison, allowing him to pull them down.

his throat rumbles at your lack of underwear, rough denim pressed against your cunt, his erection demanding out of his jeans.

your fingers fumble with his jeans, hearing the low clink of his belt somewhere muddled between his grunting and your melodic pants.

the throbbing between your thighs becomes almost insatiable, finding your own release on the rough fabric of his jeans, sighing into his mouth, allowing his tongue to slip into yours instead.

cold fingers grip your thighs, lifting your legs so that they rest around his waist, clothed cock nudging against your heat, growling into your mouth.

your head jerks back, “my mom.. my mom’s next door..” you pant, fingers trailing over his lips, doing nothing to muffle his raspy groans.

“good,” eddie smirks, hurriedly tugging his boxers down beneath his balls, burying himself inside of your soaked cunt, “i never liked her.”

a strangled moan is all you manage in response, grabbing at the desk for a little leverage as his hips meet the back of your thighs. any anger you felt towards his insults towards your mother quickly float away, turning into static as he slides slowly in and out.

marvelling at the sight of your cunt once again envelopes around him. you’d missed that, his damn near infatuation with your pussy.

the wooden frame knocks against the wall, whatever shit you had compiled for the morning all comes tumbling down, clattering to the floor alongside your long mewls.

eddie near enough melts, fingers melding into one with your skin, filling your cunt to the hilt. a certain feeling that had never been replaced, only achieved by him and his undeniable love for your pussy.

your lips catch onto his, attempting to muffle his hoarse groans, hoping to to god that the walls were thick enough.

“missed you,” he murmurs, half into your mouth, the other vibrating against your chin as your lips connect in the most careless manner.

your eyes flutter shut, chest heaving, pressed to his as your fingers begin to loosen their grip on the desk. his pace unfaltering with utter desperation, an exhilaration he had chased for years, to no avail.

“fuck,” you whine, regretting the shaky word the second it slips out. one arm hooks around his neck, forehead resting against his as his hair begins to stick.

it’s so disgusting, so wracked with desire that you’re sure you’ll be thinking- feeling it for months.

eddie’s cock nudges against against the spot only he could ever find, his pubic bone catching against your clit. fuelling the inextinguishable fire in your stomach, only making it rise into your throat.

with every fervent thrust he’s grumbling something;

fuck, shit, love you, love you.

your legs tremble, exhausted as they sit around his zealous hips. naturally, they tighten, drawing him in closer, an incessant need to feel all of him all at once.

“you can’t.. not inside,” you pant, opening his eyes to meet his though they’re not on yours. staring starry eyed at the space between your bodies, watching as they collide in ways your heart had longed for.

he’s close, you can tell. choking on his breaths when you squeeze around him, signalling your own orgasm.

“fuck, i can’t-,” eddie howls, desperately pounding his cock into your quivering cunt, giving everything away for the last thirty seconds.

you cry out, toppling over the edge as your stomach all but bursts, the pleasure reaching every last nerve in your body. clinging to his neck with a white knuckle grip, clutching his clammy skin as your body turns to mush before him.

eddie just about manages to pull out, sliding between your slick folds before his stomach lurches, shooting thick ropes of cum onto your stomach, thighs and the desk.

your foreheads remain as one, gasping into the hot air that surrounds you.

finally, his eyes trail up toward yours, meeting with the most sorrowful look that a man who has just cum, could hold.

it’s as if reality sets in, untangling your legs to shove him away. harsh and untoward as he stumbles back, still reeling from his own orgasm.

“oh my god,” you mumble incoherently, “oh my god, i’m getting married tomorrow,” clenching your fist, shouting as if he were somehow unaware.

his silence is deafening, his release still clinging to your body as you jump from the wooden table, marching into the bathroom, swallowing the urge to cry.

eddie stands with his head hung low, belt still undone as you sanctimoniously barging back past him to redress yourself, muttering ferocious whispers to yourself.

“i’m getting married tomorrow,” you repeat, unwavering anger in your voice. undecided on whether you were telling him or yourself that fact.

“so you’re still gonna marry him?” eddie asks, a slight hint of optimism in his tone. he had reason to be, you suppose. anyone else would assume the same.

you swallow, “what else is there for me?”

getting married had been the next logical step. you had the job, the house, the sweet, timid guy that wouldn’t hurt a fly. why wouldn’t you marry him?

his face crumples, brows stitched together in confusion, “me?”

almost on instinct, your head shakes, smacking your palm into his shoulder, “no. not you. it’s not supposed to be you,” a certain sadness plaguing your tone, “it was never supposed to be you,” palm slapping into his chest.

eddie’s face falls, holding his jacket in his hands wishing you’d take it back, tell him you were lying and that you really did still love him.

buried somewhere under years of regret, you probably still did.

tears weep out of the corner of your eye, quickly wiped away with your trembling finger. “you need to leave,” eyes pointed to the floor, refusing to look at him any longer.

he sighs, hesitantly stepping around the mess you both had made and out of your peripheral view. slow steps, willing for your mouth to open and those three words to dance out of it.

the door clicks shut and you’re alone again. nauseous and wishing you had just let him stay, wanting nothing more than to be held in your insurmountable feelings of remorse.

you’ve barely slept, overwhelmed with a sense of guilt and indecision.

six years of work and making something of yourself had come horrifically crashing down in one night, one stupid, moronic mistake.

but was it really a mistake when your heart still aches and your lips still feel the traces of his.

a short knock breaks you from your trance, the noise you’d been dreading all night.

sarah. bright-eyed and stupidly excitable nature, ready for your wedding day.

“woah,” she remarks, eyes darting around the room you’re just now realising you forgot to clean, “crazy night?” she smirks, eyeing the bottles and pens that had fallen from the desk to the floor.

“oh,” you smile, bile rising in your throat, “i’m just..” clambering for an excuse, “clumsy.”

she scoffs, dumping her bag on the unmade bed, “you don’t have to lie to me,” smile growing, “if you and mark wanna.. break traditions then i’m all for it.”

her wilful innocence makes you feel all the more worse. you’re supposed best friend was none the wiser, bouncing around with a proud smile, ready for your wedding day.

- eddie’s pov -

steve notices something’s up immediately.

dark rings accompanying eddie’s eyes after he had gone missing for hours last night.

“you good?” steve’s hand thwacks against his back, assuming eddie’s manner was all to do with the fact that you were getting married and not that only a few hours ago, he was telling you that he still loved you while you were having sex.

the ride to the venue is quiet, which everyone appreciates, having prepared for a litany of complaints and whining.

the church is even more extravagant than the hotel, resembling one of those castles he’d seen in a fairytale book.

he wants that to make him feel better, that at least he wasn’t the one wasting all of this money on a stupid wedding, but it doesn’t.

because irregardless of how much money you were spending, you were still marrying someone else.

sure, it wouldn’t be a particularly honest nor holy marriage but it’d be a marriage nonetheless. something he would never have with you. no matter how hard he tried.

they file into the pew, sitting slumped against the varnished wood as everyone chatters around him.

concerned heads fly around, the groomsmen rushing up the aisle as they’re beckoned by your bridesmaids.

eddie sits up, looking around at the frantic bridesmaids who were desperately trying to get the pastor’s attention. something’s wrong. he can feel it in his bones.

he throws up a quick two with his fingers to steve before sliding out of the pew, ducking his head down the aisle as he searches for you.

slipping past the worried wedding party, opening a multitude of doors in search of you. hoping that you’d at least made it to the church, that you were okay.

he doesn’t expect to find you in here, holding onto your mouth, mascara stains dripping down your cheeks, curled into the corner with your shoulders shaking. eddie slips in, shoving the broom in between the door handle, ensuring that no one else could find the pair of you.

you spend a moment, gazing into each other’s eyes until you squeak, “what’re you doing?” the most soul crushing tone that makes his heart ache.

“i came to find you,” he says, simply.

because he would, he’d do it in every life.

your palm smears the black stains around your cheek, scoffing at his words. “you shouldn’t have.. i’m fine,” trying to convince yourself more than you were him.

“you don’t look fine.”

your bottom lip trembles, threatening to spill over again. evoking a harsh stab of guilt through his chest. eddie surges toward you, placing his palms over yours, “you don’t have to do this.. we can leave right now,” he assures, searching your eyes. he’d whisk you away in a heartbeat, you didn’t even have to ask. just give him that look.

your nostrils flare, a wail constricted to the back of your throat, trying hard not to alert the hundreds of wedding guests sat just a couple hundred meters away. the dark light of the closet does well to accentuate your tearful eyes, his heart aching with every sniffle, every quietened sob that falls from your lips.

then, you growl, rather forcefully slapping his chest, “this is your fault,” fingers grabbing onto his suit jacket, “why couldn’t you just leave me alone?” frustration seeping out of your words.

eddie doesn’t have an answer, at least not one that would make you feel better.

so he stands in silence, letting you treat him like your verbal punching bag.

“i can’t do it,” you cry, burying your face into his neck, “i can’t.. marry him.”

he nods, stood just before you in this cramped closet, “you don’t have to,” assuredly grabbing your sodden cheeks, streaks of black stain his palms, “we can go.. anywhere you want, right now.”

promising the world because really, it was all he had to offer.

he wasn’t rich, hadn’t figured out how to get the fuck out of hawkins yet but he did know that he loves you and he’d do anything to prove that.

you swallow, averting your eyes to the sparkling ring on your hand, curled into the fabric of his jacket. “okay,” flicking back to his eyes, it’s so simple and yet it knocks the breath from his lungs.

nothing really registers, eddie had planned for more bargaining, certain that regardless of his pleas, you’d still end up walking down that aisle, promising yourself to another man.

“really?” he asks, clarifying for both himself and for you. there was still time for you to pull yourself together and go get married, he wasn’t going to deny you that.

“really,” you nod frantically, “i’ll go anywhere,” tugging at the collar of his shirt, “anywhere with you.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson stranger things

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totaly-obsessed · 3 months

Text

The Weight of Expectations

Alexia Putellas x reader

-> Happy Birthday to my darling @greynatomy, love ya!

-> Alexia struggles through the IVF journey and turns mean

-> Talk of pregnancy, alcohol and abuse

➳ Masterlist

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

“¡No puedes hablar en serio!”

Oh. Alexia was home, something new. You were currently in the bathroom closest to the bedroom, heaving up anything that you had eaten, even the light soup.

For a couple of days, you had been like this, and two days ago you had finally done a test. A pregnancy test. This was the last IVF round before Ale and you had to start considering other options like adoption. The first 2 rounds had failed.

Positive. The goddamn test was finally positive.

Immediately you had made an appointment for a blood test to get done. You just had to be sure before telling Alexia. The blonde already blamed herself, thinking she had waited for too long, hesitant to have a child while in the midst of her career before she finally committed to it.

You had been so incredibly happy when she came to you after a game. Tears streamed down your face when she told you that she was ready to have a child. With you.

The disappointment of two failed attempts weighed heavily on Alexia. She desperately tried to console you as you cried, hiding her own tears in her pillow when you finally passed out. How could she be sad when you had to go through the physical aspect as well?

She shouldn't have waited that long, maybe 29 was too old.

After that things changed. She had left for Spain camp, and after that, she threw herself back into work in Barcelona. Her surgery was healing well and she was getting better and better by the day.

Meanwhile, you were sat at home, trying to understand the change in your wife. Did you do something wrong? With the previous tries the footballer had been so involved, checking in on you multiple times a day when she was at training.

And now? Nothing.

Alone you had gone to the blood test yesterday, not even needing an explanation for your wife, who came home after you had gone to bed and left before you woke up.

Eight Weeks. You were already two months along. In Alexia's absence, you had completely forgotten to test, wanting to do it with her.

As soon as you had gotten the confirmation, the morning sickness hit ten times harder. Who even decided to call it that? Morning sickness… What a stupid fucking name. The whole day was filled with sudden cramps and vomiting.

And you had done it all alone until now.

But Alexia was here now, yelling in the kitchen, before she stomped up the stairs to the bathroom, looking into every door available on her way. She was looking for you.

She hesitated for a second, seeing you crouched on the floor, head over the toilet, and pale as the white wall behind you.

“¡No puedes hablar en serio!”, she yelled again, now in your face.

“I am serious Ale, what's up?”

This was the first time you had seen her in a couple of days, her roots were starting to show, as did the bags under her eyes. But the rest of her body looked stronger than ever, the countless hours in the gym paying off.

“The kitchen is a mess, you didn’t do the laundry and you didn't mop the floors either. Look how filthy it is in this house!”

Wow.

You didn't know what you had been expecting. But definitely not this.

With slow movements you pushed yourself up, using the sink to help balance yourself. Fuck were you dizzy.

“W- What did you mean?” You hated how meek your voice sounded after your wife practically yelled at you.

Her face was red, and her eyes looked like she had been bitten by the devil, spit gathering at the corners of her mouth.

Crazy. She looked really fucking crazy, and it was terrifying.

“¿En serio?”

“Let’s just go downstairs, I made dinner and we can talk about it.”

With a scoff the blonde turned on the spot, stomping down the stairs, leaving you in the bathroom. Tears threatened to fall. What has happened?

With your nausea, it took you a bit longer to navigate the stairs. Every step hurt, but Alexia couldn’t care less about your pain-filled noises. She was busy stabbing a fork into her dinner, already scarfing a plate of your favorite pasta dish down.

“Finally. God, you always take so long.”

The words were filled with hate as she spat them at you, not even noticing that a bit of the sauce was flung onto her cheeks.

You couldn’t help but smile a bit, she had never managed to eat without making a mess of herself and the table. With a damp cloth, you tried to wipe the spot away, but when she hit your hand away from her, the cloth sailed to the floor as you looked at her. Eyes wide in panic.

“I am not your goddamn child. I can take care of myself.”

Your wives' usually warm eyes pierced your heart even more. Was this really the same woman who would carry you to bed every night, even after grueling training and rehab sessions?

The tears you had breathed away were back, a painful sensation in your eyes as Alexia continued to devour the meal you had prepared with so much excitement to tell her as if it didn't mean anything.

“This tastes like shit. Not even good for cooking.” She threw the fork on the plate, the clattering sound ripping you out of your shock-induced trance. “Do you want me to make you something different?

Your wife looked terrifying. Her eyes were wide open with small pupils that moved around quickly, looking you up and down before making their way through the house. The rest of her face was stoic, a facade she had perfected over the years. One that she didn’t usually use with you.

“No. I don’t want new food. I want you to get yourself together.”

The room filled with a heavy silence that nearly made you gasp for air. What did she mean?

“Amore I don’t know what has gotten into you, but maybe we should just go for a quick walk? Get some fresh air?”

That was the final nail in the coffin for the footballer, who stood up with such force, that the chair slid back and toppled over with a startling noise.

“Fresh air? You want fresh air?” She was getting in your face now, hunching a little to really get close. “Do you know what I want?”

Her breath was warm as it hit your nose.

Alcohol. You could smell alcohol.

She was a mean drunk, snapping at anyone who dared to get too close to her, her dog, or you. But just like her stern face, you were usually safe from her drunken attitude. Your wife always pushed you behind her as soon as anything looked like trouble.

This was new and you hated it.

“What do you want Ale?”

the defender had emptied your cup of coffee in one go, slamming the mug down on the counter.

“What do I want? I a housewife that can actually do her fucking job!” She was yelling now, some of the words accentuated with harsh hand movements and slight pushes to your shoulders.

“And look at how you let yourself go. Fucking pathetic! How can I even show myself in public with you?”

Shit that hurt.

You were finally pregnant with a very much wanted child, and she acted like this after leaving you alone for such a long time.

“Gained so much weight it’s-”

“I’m pregnant.”

You didn't yell. You didn’t shout. You said it with a normal voice. Well as normal as you could with tears threatening to spill.

But it was enough to quiet the drunk blonde.

“Pregnant? You’re pregnant?”

It felt as if she was looking at you for the first time when her eyes softened and her whole body slumped. She fucked up. And she knew it.

In a frenzy you started packing things, throwing stuff into a suitcase while your wife tried to stop you. “Where are you going? Amore, please! I am so sorry!”

But it was too late.

With a suitcase and Alexia’s car, you made your way to Eli’s house, you had no one in Spain, all your family back home, so you decided to turn to your wife's mother who loved you to no end and had spent a lot of time at your house while Alexias had been ‘busy’ the last few weeks.

Alexia watched as you left. You were pregnant with a child that she wanted so badly, and she fucked it up.

Tomorrow she will make up for it. She really will.

#woso #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso imagines #woso community #alexias putellas #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #barça femeni #barca femeni x reader #barcelona femeni x reader #barcelona femeni

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simonrillleyyysss · 3 months

Note

i’m sorry if this is an annoying ask bc i’ve seem a lot of shy!readers on here…but can we get… ehm ehm.. shy femreader with graves?! AH i’m sorry lolz i need him actually

ofc!! don’t think it’s annoying baby💞💞

fem reader

he loves how ‘submissive’ you are—in a sense, he likes how shy you are!! and embraces it!! philip helps you come to terms with your meekness, you’re out in public?? don’t worry, don’t gotta talk or nothin’, just be pretty! be you, don’t change cause he wants ya’ to talk.

graves is a confident man, obviously, cocky and not afraid of anything—you? you’re timid, you’re hanging to his side as he walks around the mall, letting you whisper into his shoulder softly; his hand gently kneading at your hip.

‘ya’wanna get anything, sugar?’

‘no..’

‘ah, m’still gon’ get you something, yeah?’

although he likes your shyness, he doesn’t hesitate to get you out of your comfort zone—he makes you talk in stores when you’re confident enough, he lets you speak for yourself at small gatherings and conversations, he knows you’re a big girl.

total himbo for you, your shy but he’s head over heels—dumb and at your order and command; lapdog!!

doesn’t let anyone say anything even slightly antagonistic , their head will be on a spike

you hate when he kisses your neck in public with his hands groping your ass, just after coming out of the bar, pressed against the bustling bars alley wall—nipping at your neck! he knows ur embarrassed:(( it’s okay!! let him help you embrace your voice, baby, don’t be shy to be loud when he’s scissoring his long fingers in your tight cunt!!

he has a huge thing for listening to ur sounds, he knows your shy, everyone does. so let him bring your real voice out, let him make you scream bloody murder while he slams you along his thick cock, don’t be afraid t’be loud, honey!

huge thing for exhibitionism, let him fuck you in bathroom stalls while you’re both at a party, let him make you speak up and beg for more!! speak up, what did you say?

‘ya’ won’t get what you want till yask’ nicely, pretty girl.’

‘ppphhhillll—cummin-cumming!’

love him kkdkdkdfkdssk

#i love philip graves #phillip graves cod #phillip graves x reader #phillip graves smut #phillip graves #philip graves smut #philip graves #philip graves x reader #graves x you #cod graves #graves x reader #i need graves #graves smut #graves x female reader #🎀>philip graves #🎀>graves x shy!rdr #⠀ 🎀 ⊹︵︵︵ ⊹ ୨୧ ⊹ ︵︵︵ ⊹ 🎀#💞} requests open!#💞} anon answer!

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willowbelle · 4 months

Text

The Tie That Binds

❤︎ trafalgar law x fem reader ❤︎

༉‧₊˚✧ (nsfw, afab!reader, 18+ only) ༉‧₊˚✧

cw: very dom!law, sub/bratty!reader, bondage, rope usage (law ties reader up), orgasm denial, power play (law is in charge, he's a bit mean but makes up for it ♡︎ ) teasing, edging, mating press, prone bone, nasty rough sex, use of "good girl" & "sweetheart"

word count: ~2,000

tagging: @bby-deerling @risenwrites @strawheart-pirate @uchihabbynic @nina-ya @mandiemegatron @shamblespirate @eelnoise @maddddstuff

The Tie That Binds

The velvet rope around your wrists that had previously caused you pain; their fibers burning into your skin with each writhe of your body, seem to keep you grounded, now, somehow, as Law maintains a bruising grip on your hips, pummeling his length into your needy cunt.

His brutal pace and ever-tightening grip are almost too much to bear, and you find yourself slipping away to find solace beneath your eyelids; they're screwed shut, stars dancing beneath them and erupting into sparks with each vicious bump of his tip to your cervix.

“You’re good, yeah?” his tone is gentle but authoritative; not even wanting to give you a taste of something he knew you couldn't handle--power, control.

The sound of his voice is persuasive, pulling you back in. You rejoin the shared embrace to find yourself a desperate, shaking mess beneath him, completely at mercy to Trafalgar Law and his beloved red rope.

Law regularly walks the thin line that stretches between unyielding dominance and genuine concern; constantly teetering between intimidating sternness and unapologetic affection.

The way he fucks is no different; tightroping the fragile barrier between rearranging your insides and passionately loving you, telling you what a slut you are, and cooing sweet nothings into your ears.

You found yourself this way; panting, coated in sweat, tears spilling down your flushed cheeks as Law fucks you mercilessly, as a direct result of your relentless bratiness. You had recently taken an interest in pushing your Captain's buttons, testing the waters to see how much you coud get away with before he finally snapped.

And here he was, above you, railing you barbarically, having snapped to the point of no return.

You knew he wouldn't stop until the brashness of his thrusts filled your skull with thoughts of nothing but him and his gifted cock; beating into you the friendly reminder that he was in charge.

And today, he opted to reassert his authority with an object you had become quite familiar with; a lengthy strand of crimson velvet rope.

He has you on your back with your arms above your head, bound together at your wrists, fastened to the headboard.

He’s manuevered your legs to dangle over his shoulders so he can get as deep as possible, grunting as he inches his lengthy cock further into you.

You’re flustered and squirming beneath him as he continues to bully the soft, tight walls of your cunt. The rope begins to grow loose as the result of your frantic movements, and you make a pathetic attempt to free your hands, but Law’s already one step ahead of you--like he always is-- and quickly grasps onto your sore wrists.

“Pitiful” he tsks, halting the heaves of his hips for just a moment to retie your hands.

“Lawww,” you whine weakly, throwing your head back to let out a shaky, meek moan.

“Come on, baby” he purrs, leaning down to lick along the shell of your flushed ear, “You know I'll make it worth it.”

You refrain from protesting, merely whimpering in acknowledgment, fully aware that victory in this argument is an unattainable feat.

He begins again, flooding your head with warmth as the feeling of his thick cock stretching out your insides commences.

He’s groaning, unusually vocal tonight, wanting to instill in you the severity of this punishment by immediately resuming his rough, hectic pace, without giving you time to adjust again.

“L-Law-!” you moan again, this noise more of a scream, coming from deep within your chest.

“Listen to yourself, y/n,” he groans, shaking his head in mock disappointment, “As if you didn’t beg me to do this.”

“M-mm, fuck!” you cry out, mustering the strength to open your eyes and look at his smug face while he pounds you into the mattress.

“Did you really think that shameful behavior would go unnoticed, brat?” he teases through clenched teeth, undertones of both arrogance and arousal evident in his tone.

Even if you wanted to respond, the way he has your body jolting with each harsh thrust makes it essentially impossible; only weak murmurs and sad excuses for words escaping from your slack jaw.

“What was that?” a smirk pulls at his lips again as he gazes down at your fucked-out face, “Use your words, sweetheart.”

He knows he’s already fucking you so well you can barely form coherent thoughts, but he’s a determined bastard, as is his custom, always in pursuit of new ways to turn you to mush.

He takes the opportunity to move a hand down, slender fingers suddenly rubbing tight, lazy circles into your swollen clit as he continues to force his cock into you.

“F-Fuck, Law-!” a breathy moan erupts from your chest at the overwhelming sensation, your legs beginning to tremble as they hang over your captain’s strong shoulders.

“Oh,” he purrs, biting his bottom lip smugly as he gazes down at you, “So she does speak”

“Mm-mhmm,” you whine, voice trembling as you gaze up at the confident man above you.

The unbelievable sensation of his thick cock re-shaping your pulsing walls, his blunt tip kissing your cervix with each pass, coupled with the feeling of his balls slapping against your spent hole and his skilled fingers on your clit has you deliciously overstimulated. You sense yourself nearing the threshold of your rapidly approaching orgasm, but right before you can reach it, Law pulls out of you, making quick work of untying your wrists.

You hiss and whine needily at the sudden loss, “Lawww…” you whine shamelessly, “Why did you stopppp?”

He gives no explanation, just smirks and grabs your hips, swiftly flipping you onto your stomach.

“Arch your back for me, baby,” he instructs, and you oblige immediately, having been conditioned well by your power-hungry captain, knowing never to disobey his commands.

Right as you comply, Law slides a strong, tattooed arm beneath you, holding your butt up by your pelvis.

He wastes no time in promptly positioning his cock back at your needy entrance, intruding again without warning.

“A-Ah, L-Law-!” you cry out at the feeling of his thick tip re-entering you unexpectedly.

“Tell me, y/n,” he begins, tilting his head down to groan in your ear, making your back lie flush with his inked chest, “Tell me how badly you wanted this, how badly you needed this.”

“L-Law…” you whimper weakly at the obscenity of his words, blood flooding into your cheeks.

He pulls his hips back before thrusting back into you, hard.

The abrupt intrusion prompts a scream to escape from your throat, but Law stays still, now fully engulfed within your tight, fluttering walls.

You feel his cock twitch inside you as he remains unmoving, “Tell me, or I won’t move,” he threatens.

The fear of not reaching your orgasm overpowers the fear of admitting defeat by a landslide, so you give in, arching your back at a more extreme angle to receive any sort of stimulation.

“I-I behaved like that,” you begin, letting out a cry as Law’s free hand finds itself in your hair, yanking the strands sternly so you look back at him.

“Yeah? Tell me, y/n,” he growls, hips remaining still as he pulses within you, determined to earn the confession from your mouth.

“‘C-Cause,” you whine, desperately attempting to grind your hips against his, “‘Cause I w-wanted you to f-fuck me like th-this.”

His grip tightens in your hair and the arm that’s beneath you squeezes at your waist,

“Fuck you like what, y/n?”

The blood that’s flushed in your cheeks rises in temperature as he unapologetically digs and pries the admission from within the recesses of your being.

“L-Like the b-brat I am,” you whimper pitifully, admitting inevitable defeat.

You can’t see his face as he’s behind you, but his tone is telling enough, and you know he’s smirking, having finally gotten what he so desperately craved.

“Good girl,” he praises, letting his hand fall from your hair to rest reassuringly on the small of your back, “Now you can cum.”

His hips start again; the unmistakable, lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin filling the room once more, “So good for me, sweetheart,” he groans, “So fucking good.”

His cock twitches as he continues to pound into your spent pussy, rapidly nearing his own peak with every thrust, your insides sucking him in so tightly that it’s impossible to hold back.

You’re crying now, nearly sobbing from the overstimulation, writhing and shaking beneath your captain as the pace of his hips never falters.

“Stay still for me, honey,” he instructs kindly, finally spilling over into that affectionate side of himself that always inevitably emerged.

“M-mm! Law, p-please!” you moan needily, desperate to indulge in that previously forbidden slice of heaven that you had only just tasted.

You abandon all dignity, shamelessly begging your captain to let you orgasm, “I-I’m so close, Law, please”

His grip on your hip tightens and his thrusts begin to grow disheveled and sloppy, nearing his edge in time with you.

“Cum for me,” he groans, his breaths heavy as they fall on your nape,

“Show me how much you love this cock.”

𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧 𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧 𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧 𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.

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mncxbe · 3 months

Text

Two's better than one♡

𝑱𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒐 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒙 𝑻𝒆𝒄𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒖

ღೀ๋࣭ ⭑𝒄𝒘: threesome, dirty talk, creampie, little bit of power imbalance, size kink if you squint, Jouno making Tecchou taste his cum, a bit nasty, use of slut, moron, idiot (it's Jouno after all)

"Curl your fingers like that Tecchou. See how pretty she sounds when you ahh– there you go. Ya got it" cooed your boyfriend, twirling strands of your hair between his slender fingers.

"Nghh 'chou wait s-slow down a bit" you babbled out, throwing your head back into Jouno's lap as the man in front of you kept fingering you. Tecchou's digits reached your sweet spot with each curl, making you melt into the mattress. His eyes were glazed, glued to your slick folds "It's so pretty" said the brunette, earning a low chuckle from your boyfriend.

"I know, right? My girl's got the prettiest pussy out there". Due to his heightened senses he could hear the squelching sounds you made, his dick getting impossibly hard. With a swift movement, Jouno pulled your shoulders and, following the motion you flipped onto your tummy, your eyes meeting your boyfriend's erection. He ran his fingers through your hair, gently massaging your scalp as he guided your mouth closer to him. "Arch your back for Tecchou, pretty" he instructed and you lifted your hips, giving the man behind you a nice view of your glistening cunt. Tecchou gulped, his fingers shaking as he ghosted them over your puffy clit.

"What ya looking at, you idiot?" hissed Jouno "Put yourself to good use and please my girl". Following Jouno's command, Tecchou lowered his brief and pulled his leaking cock out of his pants, alligning his tip to your entrance. He slid inside slowly, careful not to hurt you. "Is it alright?" asked the man in a meek voice, running his hand over your ass in a soothing motion as you nodded. The stretch burnt– Tecchou was way thicker than your boyfriend but fuck didn't you love it. A low moan spilled from your lips when the man started rocking his hips against yours and Jouno clicked his tongue, pushing his cock into your mouth. With his hand on the back of your head he guided you as you bobbed your head up and down, coating his length with your saliva.

From behind you, Tecchou let out a groan. The sight was absolutely delicious: Jouno's harsh features melted into a lustful look; his brows slight furrowed and cheeks flushed as you took him in your mouth. And you, God you– with your back perfectly arched, your ass rippling with each thrust he made into your tight cunt. You looked so small in comparison to him, so pretty he couldn't help himself. Tecchou picked up the pace as he slid his calloused hands over your thighs, hips and lower back, bending over you to cup your tits. The new angle allowed him to reach that sweet spot inside you and you moaned around Jouno's length.

"God, look at you..." he taunted "Getting off to having your cunt fucked by another man." Tightening his grip on your hair, Jouno pulled your mouth off his dick "What do we say to someone who makes us feel good, hm? Thank Tecchou, you slut."

His harsh words only made your walls flutter, warmth pooling in your core. You looked over your shoulder to see a flustered Tecchou. His hips halted against yours when you mumbled a "thank you 'chou you feel s' good inside me". When he started moving again his pace was brutal, his tip relentlessly hitting your cervix. "Ngh– 'chou wait wait p-please I'm gonna—" you whimpered and Tecchou felt himself get closer to his climax.

Jouno picked up on his collegue's raised body temperature and heartbeat and huffed "Don't get ahead of yourself, Tecchou. I let you join in doesn't mean you can cum inside her" he warned but the man was too far gone. Strands of his hair stuck to his damp forehead, his eyes squinted in pleasure as he chased his high– you felt so snug and warm, your pussy clenching around him perfectly, basically swallowing him whole. Before he knew it, ropes of cum spurted inside you and he let out a choked groan "God, my God you're so t-tight, pretty ahh– 'm sorry". His pleas and apologies sent Jouno over the edge. He grabbed your hair and thrusted his hip into your mouth, making you gag. "Don't swallow, ok?" he grunted and you nodded, looking up at him with teary eyes.

Right after he came in your mouth Jouno pulled you to a sitting position, paying little to no mind to the mixture of slick and cum dripping down onto the sheets. He pushed you forward and Tecchou leaned in, too fucked out and dizzy from his high to realize what he was doing. As the two of you kissed, Jouno's grin widened– his free hand moving to the back of Tecchou's head, making the two of you deepen the kiss. Despite your best efforts, Jouno's cum seeped into Tecchou's mouth and he jolted but didn't pull away. Instead, he pushed his tongue inside your mouth, moaning at the taste. When you eventually pulled away his lips were coated in white and he gave them a careful lick. "You idiot..." huffed Jouno before seizing Tecchou's jaw with his hand and pulling him in for a kiss.

Out of all the things that could've happened, you certainly didn't except to see Jouno kissing his colleague. Still, you couldn't lie that the sight was turning you on again. Pulling away from the kiss, Jouno gently slapped Tecchou's cheek. "Told ya not to cum inside her. Your loss, idiot, you don't get to join for round two."

Tecchou whined in protest, looking at you with puppy eyes as Jouno laid you back down on the mattress "You think you can take it, love?" he asked in a surprisingly loving tone and you nodded, spreading your legs for him.

As your boyfriend slid inside you, your nails dug into his back, leaving red marks. Tecchou's mouth fell open, his gaze softening. He was basically begging to be touched again, his cock now fully erect and throbbing. "Jouno please–" he began but the white haired man cut him off. "Not a fucking chance. And don't you dare touch yourself either you're just gonna watch and ah fuck so tight baby shiit– Y'er gonna watch and keep q-quiet."

You felt bad for Tecchou having to sit back like that so you reached out a hand and wrapped it around his base, slowly moving it up and down. "I got y-you 'chou. Just lay back and relax" you mewled, struggling to maintain a stable pace with your hand as Jouno pistoned his cock inside you. "How charitable of you, darling" he cooed, leaning in to kiss you and you gladly returned the sweet affection.

It didn't take long for all of you to cum again. Your bodies were sticky, covered in sweat and your combined juices but you couldn't care less. Comfortably laying back on the mattress between the two men, you wrapped your arms around Jouno as Tecchou snuggled you from behind. You were all a little breathless and sleepy, doing your best to stay awake.

"Tecchou" you mumbled, burying your face into Jouno's neck "You can stay the night. It's late"

The brunette smiled, his face beaming "Thank you, Y/N. You're very kind to-"

Before he could finish his sentence Jouno's arms wrapped around you as he pulled you flush against his chest. "Don't get any ideas, moron You're sleeping on the couch"

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd x reader #bsd smut #tecchou x reader #tecchou suehiro #bsd tetchou #jouno smut #jouno x reader #bsd jouno #jouno saigiku #tecchou smut #bungo stray dogs smut

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ohimsummer · 5 months

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✎ . . .❝ WHO DID IT? ❞

—poly!satosugu xmas shenanigans, satosugu x reader, justice for satoru he just wanted to make candy canes !

The day was going well. Splendid, even. It’s almost Christmas, and the chilly weather makes sure to remind you, flakes of snow peppering the ground and crunching beneath your boots. You’ve completed the task of some nice, last minute shopping for your husbands’ students, picking up some coffee orders, not forgetting a few of Gojo’s favorite desserts from that same coffee shop, and then you were back home in no time. Walking inside, you’re engulfed with a feeling of warmth and coziness, the smell of sugar with a hint of peppermint permeating in the air. Your call of ‘I’m back!’ suspiciously goes unanswered, but you assume your husbands are either distracted or out of earshot.

The honeyed scent of sugar grows stronger as you enter the kitchen, setting bags of gifts and groceries on the floors and countertops. Speaking of countertops…your brows knit, mouth agape in absolute shock as you really take in the center of what was once gorgeous marble. You hear Gojo’s boisterous laughter in the living room, Geto’s faint conversation underneath, and make a beeline straight for them. Upon your arrival, Geto spots you first, and the wide-eyed glance he shares between you and Gojo is very telling.

It’s a simple question.“Who did it?”

And yet getting an answer, at least from one of them, is like pulling teeth.

Satoru halts mid-sentence, turning to beam innocently at you, ignoring the bitter look in your eyes, out for blood. If Suguru’s simmering glare at his idiot counterpart is any indication, then you’ve already gotten your answer.

Said idiot is so good at playing dumb, as if something like this isn’t obviously his doing. “What’s wrong, baby?”

A small breath of exasperation leaves Geto as he takes in the interaction. He thinks Gojo is really in for it this time, he can tell by your body language alone that you’ve got some choice words for this man. Maybe you’ll actually kill him this time. Geto chuckles a good riddance, so low even he can barely hear it. Can’t afford to show too much amusement, lest he get caught in the whirlwind of your fury.

Your foot taps, impatient. Brand new countertops. Not even a month old, they told you to consider them as part of an “extra early Christmas gift”. Ruined with large, faded, circular marks right in the center, on display, and faintly reeking of peppermint.

Suguru grows hot as your furious gaze shifts to him, finger with a mind of its own as it points to Gojo. “He wanted to make candy ca–“

“What the hell, I thought we had an agreement?”

“I’m not taking the fall for this with you over that dumbass idea.”

“Dumbass? You were on board when I suggested it!”

“And that was my mistake for assuming you’d done more than five minutes of research and knew what you were doing.”

“Well, excuse me for trying to get in the spirit of Christm– ow!”

The sharp pinch on his ear leaves Satoru yelping like a hurt dog, stumbling along as you drag him into the kitchen, and Geto takes extreme joy in the small snippets of Gojo’s excuses as he fails to plead his case.

“Baby, my extremely beautiful, lovely, gorgeous wife, I just miscalculated a little, a tiny mist–“

“Mistake?” With your incredulous tone, one can only imagine the look on your face right now. “Look what you did to the countertop, Satoru, don’t come in my damn kitchen tryna be a professional chef or candy maker or whatever!”

A groan. “Technically,” and Suguru cringes immediately, head sinking back on the couch. “It’s all of our kitchen.”

The immediate silence afterward is heavy enough to weigh down a bear. Followed shortly by Satoru’s meek “Ya know what, you’re so right, baby. Your kitchen.”

#poly satosugu #poly! satosugu #geto x reader #suguru x reader #gojo x reader #satosugu x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x reader drabble #jjk imagine

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katsumiiii · 1 year

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hobie brown x fem! reader

i feel like hobie is such an unjealous person (which technically isn’t a word but idrc!). like he’s so secure within himself and his partner to where he knows and that he’s as good as it gets. and usually when someone says that it’s such a turn off, but with hobie it’s a subtle cockiness, like a “leave and see what you’ll get” type thing which is irritating and attractive at the same time.

like if someone were to flirt with you I can’t see him getting riled up and starting something. I feel like if anything he’d agree with them ?? and you’re always like wtf bc he’s sitting there chatting with someone who wants to take you away from him, literally urging them to keep ranting about your character.

the only reason he’d get pissed is if they try to touch you. one thing hobie values is personal space, and in his opinion, he’s the only one whose allowed to breach your bubble (he’d always back off if you wanted him too ofc, he’s big on consent!).

soo imagine this, hobie and you Vinyl shopping, searching through the stacks of product for nothing specific, but itching to find a gem among the various piles. hobie had noticed a scrawny guy peaking glances at your figure more often than not and chuckled at the sight.

“‘s guy on your left, been makin’ eyes at ya.” hobie muttered, placing his chin on your shoulder blade.

“mhm really?” you patted the side of his cheek, fingers still sifting through the records below you.

“yeah, prolly thinks you’re cute huh? lil peng ting.” he tickled the sides of your hips, nibbling at the back of your ear.

“shut up hobie, help me find this vinyl. I swear I saw it somewhere….”

“e-excuse me!” a meek voice made both your heads turn, eyes settling on a short male to the left of you.

“yes?” you replied, patting the tops of hobie’s ringed fingers with your own.

“I just wanted to say that you’re very beautiful! and..” he trailed off, fiddling with the dirt underneath his fingernails.

“eh? beautiful!“ hobie left the comfort of your figure to circle around the poor man, clasping his hands on his shoulders, softly shaking them, “she’s fit ain’t she?”

“yeah…” the male shuffled.

“oh ‘m sorry mate, didn’t mean to cut ya off. go on and tell her what you’re thinking, hm?” hobie chuckled, urging the man to continue.

“bee, let’s just go.” you sighed, gently shaking your head.

“wha’, don’t wanna be rude love. let ‘im finish.”

“nevermind, I’ll just get going…” the man awkwardly shuffled away at the sight of your bickering.

“why do you have to be such an asshole?”

“jus’ thought you should accept the man’s compliment.”

“oh fuck off.”

#bye I write him as such a cheeky bastard #I love it tho !!#hobie brown x reader #hobie x reader #atsv x reader #spider punk x reader #hobie brainrot !

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cindyslesbian · 1 year

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wrote a little something something, part 2 coming soon!!

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 29 days

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Winter's King 18

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)

Characters: Geralt of Rivia

Note: It's Friday.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Another day brings you just short of the mountain peak. The pace of the train is ragged as they come to a halt and murmurs crawl up and down the lines. You slump against the frigid wind, nestling your chin into the fur of your cloak as you keep your eyes on Daisy’s neck. You yawn as Bryce reaches over to fix the reins as they almost slip from your grasp.

“You well, mouse?” He growls.

You nod. You haven’t spoken much in the last days, not since your first night on the mountain pass. You haven’t known what to say. You know he must have seen the king and yourself, how close you were, and you feel his judgment. You just don’t know how to say it isn’t your want. It would be improper to blame the king.

“We’re almost there. Castle’s just ahead.” He looks up at the dark shapes soaring through the skies. He pointed out the vultures a while back, inferring there must be carrion near to bring them out. “You’ll have a warm place to lay your head.”

You hum and offer nothing else. As you think of staying still, your stomach storms as violently as the skies. At least when you have a destination, when you are moving, you can make yourself elusive. Once you’re still, you don’t quite know what you’ll do.

“Daisy will be relieved to rest, the old beast,” he chuckles, “she’s had quite the campaign.”

You pet the horse’s mane, your hands mittened in strips of wool the grey soldier wrapped around them.

“I know what the matter is but if you’re not gonna say it, I won’t neither,” he grumbles.

You dip your head, hiding under the hood. You come to a halt behind the rest of the party as it stalls completely. You lean and peer over the edge of the horse.

“Aye, you just wait,” he swings off his horse and lands easily on his feet. The snow dusts up around his tall boots. He comes to help you off the horse, your legs as snugly bound in wool. “We’ll find ya some proper clothes for the road at the castle. You’ll need all your toes.”

You sigh and cross your arms. You look ahead then behind you. You cough and turn to touch Daisy’s soft neck.

“I didn’t...” you begin. “I wouldn’t betray the queen. Or the king.”

He huffs and moves closer, blocking the wind as Daisy nuzzles his shoulder, “I know ya wouldn’t, mouse. Is that why yer so meek? You think I judge you?”

“What happened--” you voice piques and you nearly choke on it, “sir,” you throw your hands up, “I swear, I didn’t ask for it. The king...”

“Kings do as they will. It is in their nature, it is their right,” he shrugs, “I am not a naive lad no more. You mightn’t have noticed how my beard matches the sheen of my sword, but I’ve seen many things. The old king... he had a few loves. None of them his wife.”

“Love? Sir. It was a mistake, surely.”

He is quiet as he shifts his soles. He turns one way then the other, “do you really believe that?”

Your heart swells so big your ribs hurt. You cross your arms, hooking your hands over your shoulders. You chew your lip and look up at the tall grey man.

“I don’t know what to believe. I thought I came to serve the queen. I thought... I don’t know, sir. I don’t. I wouldn’t ever hurt anyone. I wouldn’t want to.”

“I know it,” he affirms, “you are the gentlest soul I’ve met. Well, since my own wife. Certainly, the king is taken with a summer soul like yours. How could he not be?”

“Taken?” You utter in horror. “I am a maid. That’s all I am. It’s all I ever needed to be.” You sniffle and bring your hands to the edges of your hood, pushing it back to see him clearer, “sir, it keeps me safe.”

“It did. It kept you safe when it could but that shield has broken.”

“And what about you?” You murmur.

He averts his gaze guiltily, “what the king does behind his own walls, I cannot stop. That night, he was unsafe. He threw caution away. For your sake, I deterred him. Reminded him of his duty.” He shakes his head and frowns at his boots, “you came to serve the king, you said, and that is what he intends.”

You whimper. How can it be? He is wed. He has beautiful wife. And a throne. And an heir on the way. You’re just the maid. Just a maid. Not... that.

“So, you would let him?” You challenge, a surge welling up your throat, a heat unlike anything you’ve felt before.

“I serve the king too,” he mutters. “Though I do care for you, little mouse, how could I not? But I was commanded to see to you. To keep you unbothered. Unsullied.”

Your legs wobble beneath you and you nearly fold over. You can’t stop the rush of emotion that overcomes you, the fire that burns in your veins and makes your vision bleary. You throw out your arms and shove Bryce. Once, twice, three times. He doesn’t budge, taking each in turn.

“How dare you, sir! How dare you!” You hit his chest with your fists and collapse into him. “I never wanted it. I don’t. I don’t. I don’t.”

“I know, sweet mouse, I know,” he curls an arm around you and sways, petting your hood, “you’ve every right to despise me. I will take whatever you have for me.”

You heave and tamp down a throttling sob, “why, sir, why?”

“It is... my duty.”

You hear the strain in his voice, you feel the tremor that rolls through him, and how he clings tightly as if he fears you’ll push him away. You can’t. Even if he's hurt you, he is all you have.

“I won’t beg forgiveness, I don’t deserve that,” he whispers, “but I’ll always be here for you, mouse, so long as you need.”

You stay again him, silent and weak. You’re angry. You’ve never felt this sort of way. You’ve never felt as if you could tear your flesh from the bone just to let the tension out. You hate it. You’ve never hated anything but that feeling, you loathe it. It hurts worse than anything you’ve ever known.

“I’m so sorry, mouse,” he continues to rock you, “so very sorry...”

⚔️

You cannot blame your daze for nearly missing the castle right before you. The dark exterior blends into the rock face, set into the side of the mountain so that an untrained eye might not pick it out. The part splits into several streams, those for the stables, some soldiers to keep watch over the pass, and many more waiting to enter the great castle of Vulture’s Peak.

As if to proclaim their name right, at least a dozen of the long-necked scavengers perch upon the towers. Bryce keeps you close as you keep astride. You peer toward the front of the crowd. The king’s white hair defines him among the bodies. He speaks with several black-garbed soldiers as Jazlene is helped down from the cart. Neither husband or wife acknowledge each other.

You sit back and hang your head. Bryce breathes in through his nose and clucks, “right. Let’s get you to the queen.”

You glance over, numb from more than the cold. He dismounts and brings you down to ground level. He fixes your cloak as it opens and lets in the stirring bluster. He finds a post to tie the horses to before he herds you towards the castle.

You approach with your head down. The queen stands with a hand on her lower back though her bodice remains snug and flat to her unchanged stomach. The fur cloak drapes from her shoulders majestically as she stands with her head high. You stare at the hem of her skirt and await your orders.

“Let us see to our host,” the king declares as he offers his arm to his queen, a stiff and despondent gesture.

You keep your eyes down. You would rather wait without. You sense him pausing, looking around, and he turns to face the facade. He huffs. “Right, Sir Bryce, until I give the signal, you will keep all without.”

“Your highness,” Bryce agrees and moves closer to you.

King Geralt stalks through the snow with his wife in tow. Her words drift back behind her, “... so bleak. Is this how they receive a king and queen?”

The king grunts but gives no answer as he pulls her onward, climbing the steps one by one as she slows him with her odd lean back. You turn to Bryce and tuck your chin down. Neither of you have said much since the pass.

You wait, blowing into your hands and mulling back and forth. A restlessness stirs through the bodies around you, an uncertainty as you await the king’s confirmation. The lull carries on until the sun shifts into a new phase, or rather, the sky changes hue.

The doors of the castle creak open and a slender woman descends the stairs. Her skin is smooth like polished brass and a similar hue, her hair is a shade of straw and her eyes are an eerie shade of jade. She wears a plain cloak on her shoulders and a square cap on the crown of her head.

“Lord Vesemir welcomes the king’s company,” she speaks boldly above the din of curious murmurs. “Please come.”

She beckons with her gloved hand and turns back to the castle. She walks forward without waiting. Bryce tuts, “typical.” He spins and waves, “you heard her, let’s go. Servants to the east, soldiers find your stations, lords and ladies, the west wing.”

He spins and grabs your arm, ushering you ahead of the scrambling masses. You let him lead you on, though you might have preferred to stay in the gales.

Inside, the walls are lit with mounted lanterns. The flames glow along the spacious hall and corridors haze amber to each side of you. Bryce keeps you close as he steps out of the way of the flood of bodies. He stops several other soldiers to direct them on how to accommodate the party.

“Right,” he peers up the central staircase, with posts like spears, and he points you up it.

“You know this place?” You keep your voice low as you come to the top.

“Aye, been here now and again,” he says. “Vesemir isn’t the most hospitable. Not beyond a few, but the king does hold a special bond with the old bear.”

“Oh,” you peer around at the plain tapestries, no patterns, just cut fabric to warm the walls. There is a single marked banner with symbols you do not recognise.

“Do not fear. He is harmless. He puts on a mean snarl but he isn’t so mean as he pretends,” Bryce explains.

You nod and skid to a halt in fright. A large bear stands by the wall, arms raised in attack, it’s great teeth bear in a growl. You squeak and knock into the soldier beside you. It’s white fur reminds you of the king’s tresses.

“Oh, mouse, it’s long dead,” he pats your shoulder and laughs, “Vesemir claims to have killed the beast with his own hands. He doesn’t mention that no sound or wise man would be so far north as to meet a white bear such as this.”

You gulp and gape at the large beast.

“Stuffed. It’s hide preserved,” he points as he gets closer to it, unafraid, “when I first came, I had my sword drawn at the sight. It’s a cruel trick by the castle lord.”

He touches the bear’s large claw and gestures you forward. You move forward and he takes your hand, putting it to the beast’s large paw. You feel the dried pads and shudder. He lets you go but you do not rescind your reach. You feel the fur of the creature, softer than you imagined.

“Suppose we should get you where you need to be,” he exhales, taking out his sweet leaves to put some in his mouth.

You pull back and face him. You wait for his guidance and he presses on. He pauses to ask a servant where the queen’s chamber lays. With his answer, you continue on.

The two guards stand outside the doors. You recognise the one that is often there, with the coppery hair and sparse beards. The other is not familiar to you, though you’ve seen many faces on the road. Bryce nods to them and they let you through.

“Don’t trouble her maid, she is in sensitive condition,” the orange-haired guard warns.

“Eh,” Bryce growls, “mind yer business, she’ll mind hers.”

“Don’t get your hackles up, old man,” the guard scoffs and you stop to look back.

“In,” Bryce demands and points you through the door.

You enter and the door closes out the voices, muffled by the barrier as their argument continues. The confrontation is most unexpected. You don’t recall either of the queen’s men ever speaking to you before. Most times, they barely took notice. You’re only happy Bryce was there to bark back at him.

The queen is at the foot of her bed. She looks unhappy. You glance around the chamber, for a moment expecting the king to be lurking there with her. She is alone, holding her stomach as she breathes slowly.

“Would you stop staring like a dolt and fetch a pail?” She garbles behind her hand.

You grab the clean chamber pot from the corner and bring it to her. She seizes it and spits into it, though she hardly spits up more than saliva. She grumbles and shoves it back at you.

“This place smells like cinder and dust,” she complains as you return the pot to its place. “And the snow is repugnant. To think, I am to be queen of ice. How dull. We should make our thrones in the summer lands.”

Her gripes ease you. Those are expected, almost a comfort.

“Hardly matters where I go, does it? The king never comes anyhow,” she whines and lays back across the mattress, “I carry his child and he doesn’t seem to care. Do you know what he said when I told him?”

You don’t reply. She doesn’t want to hear more than her own voice.

“He says, ‘see your duty done before you boast,’” she kicks her legs as they hang over the edge, “see it done? I have his seed in me and he is still distant. Will he see his child in my arms then command me see it to adulthood before my duty’s rewarded?”

You stare at the wall. Her account of the king’s neglect sickens you, so much that you could spit up in the same pot as her. Is it you? Are you the reason he does not tend to her? Perhaps you do deserve her wrath more than you know. You wish in that moment that she would let it out upon you. You have earned any lashing she may give you.

Though you may not have chosen your path, not as maid, not as traveler, not as the king’s desire, it does not matter. You will pay for the whims of your masters. As Merinda predicted, though not as she might have dreamt it, they have drawn you into great danger.

#geralt of rivia #dark geralt #dark!geralt #geralt of rivia x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #au #medieval au #the witcher #winter's king

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stinmybubs · 13 days

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“AudioFic.” 100 Followers Special! SLIGHT NSFW

AN: HIII, I am so sorry for not posting ive been very busy getting ready for graduation! Xoxo! I am making more things for my 100 follower specials! Just check the link bellow to see what I will write my lovelies!

100 Follower special Post!

B. Katsuki x AFAB! Reader

“High School Sweethearts.” - By Melanie Martinez

"Can we just be honest? These are the requirements. If you think you can be my one and only true love."

Everyone called you picky. You were picky with food, friends, and men. Its not like you were picky, you were just cautious always taking precautions so you wouldn't get hurt by anyone you surround yourself with.

"You must promise you love me."

When Bakugou Katsuki confessed to you it was a shock, you always hid around Bakugou, clinging to him because of your constant anxiety with interacting to others. You didn't know why but he always let you cling to him, maybe he liked to protect you because you seemed so weak.

And when he confessed you didn't know how to feel, scared or happy? But what Katsuki did that day made your heart flutter, he simply kissed you and offered you to sleep in his dorm that night.

"And if you fuck me over I will rip your fucking face apart."

You had serious jealousy problems, anytime another girl interacted with him you felt the most overwhelming feeling of jealousy which made you feel sick. But you warned you new boy friend.

"I'll ruin you if you fuck me over Katsuki."

"Step one, you must accept that I'm a little out my mind."

The little threat you gave Katsuki caught him off guard, he didn't know a little meek thing like you would ever threaten to even hurt a fly. That is till he started dating you.

An example will be how a girl from a general studies class was fawning over him at lunch, you were getting yourself food when you saw the horrendous scene in front of you, the sickening feeling of jealousy and your blood boiling making your hands shake.

"Katsu!" you call out to him, a large smile planted on your face. Katsuki turned away from the girl to walk over to you.

"If you ever let a girl fawn over you like that. I'm afraid i wont be able to become a hero anymore. Especially for murder!" You cheer, giving your boyfriend a nice pat on the shoulder.

He found this side of you quiet attractive.

"Step two, this is a waste if you cant walk me down the finish line."

"Do you wanna get married one day Katsu?" You were currently laying on his bed while he was at his desk doing some homework.

"Eh? Where did this come from?" He turned to you questioningly.

"Well...I think that what's the point of a relationship if you aren't in it to marry? So tell me now so this isn't a waste..." He heard your voice drop as you tuck your face into your arms, trying your best not to cry already.

"Of course I wanna marry you ya' baby." He stood up from his seat, sitting down next to you causing the springs of the bed to bounce a bit. It was quiet for a bit while he played with your hair.

"Thank you Katsu.."

"Step three, Give me passion, don't make fun of my fashion."

"Katsu! How do I look hm? Good?" You had forced Katsuki to follow you to the mall to do some clothing shopping, he sat on the dressing room bench with his arms crossed and a very scary scowl on his face.

"You look fine."

"Thats all? I look fine? C'mon i know you got better style than that be honest!"

"Fine, but don't say I didn't try to be nice."

With that you two had a fun clothing date, the two of you trying to style each other in different ways, katsuki getting mad at you when you picked out something stupid for him or for yourself.

"I want my girl to look the best out there! Give me that you're wearing something else." He snatches the piece of clothing out of your hands causing you to laugh. Watching him try to help you, make sure you shine out the other girls made you strangely happy.

"Step four. Give me more, Give me more."

You love the way Katsuki held you, always keeping his hand on your waist or around it, the feeling of his big rough hands touching you made the heat in-between your legs intense to where you were whimpering and begging Katsuki to fuck you.

Katsuki would always tease you in different ways, making sure by the time you both made it back to the dorms you were a wet mess begging for him while you were underneath him on his bed.

"If you cant handle a heart like mine, Don't waste your time with me. If you're not down to bleed, no, oh."

Katsuki can be mean. Really mean, even to you his own girlfriend. Its not a surprise to anyone that he has anger issues especially after a rough day at school Katsuki doesn't want anyone to bother him so he just goes straight up to his room to shut the world out.

"Katsu? Can I come in...?" You carefully knock on the door, really wanting to see if he was okay. But you got no answer.

You knock again, surely you're the only person he wont shut out! The only person he wont snap at! Right?

At some point you give up knocking, but that last knock you did made Katsuki open the door so quickly it made you jump back.

"What the hell do you want? Go back to your fucking room I don't wanna hear your voice right now." The look on his face made your heart drop, the feeling of all your words getting caught in your throat.

"Oh....I-...I'm sorry." Tears begin filling up your eyes, Fuck don't cry. You couldn't help but cry, you were really sensitive and that's something you hated about yourself.

You were a cry baby.

"Fuck-...Y/n Cmere, I'm sorry." He quickly pulls you into his arms, making sure to close the door behind you. Letting you cry into his shirt. "I'm sorry for crying so much...I-...I know you m-might need some time alone!" You say through choked sobbing.

"Cmere...Don't worry about that anymore, Jst' stop yer cryin and lets sleep together okay?" You simply nodded at him, trying your best to stop your tears.

"If you cant handle the choking, the biting, the loving, the smothering 'til you can't handle it. no more."

You loved being clingy, and Katsuki loved being clingy as well, or course he will get embarrassed if you two are caught kissing in anyway but he doesn't mind you clinging onto him. He will always hold you in anyway he can, he does not care what others think because you are his girl!

Cut off

AN: Sorry for the cut off of the song! It has so many lyrics and I'm trying to get Dragon King! B. Katsuki x Reader done! Xoxo Stimnybubs.

#mha x reader #mha writing #mha fanfiction #bakugou x reader #mha bakugou #bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou headcanons #bakugou smut #bakugou katsuki

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anna-proxx · 15 days

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☆ evening in camp ☆

pairing: arthur morgan x fem!reader

genre: fluff

word count: 1882

a/n: my dear readers, this is my first attempt at a rdr2 oneshot here on tumblr, I started with something easy but will definitely add more action in the future. this right here broke my writer's block and for that i am grateful. hope this brings you some comfort whenever you need it.

It was a chilly evening, meek distant noise of nocturnal animals creating a peaceful ambience, along with the crackling fire nearby. The whole camp was already either asleep or holed up in their tents.

It has been a good day. Arthur and Javier successfully robbed a homestead, Micah was still locked up in jail and Bill brought a good catch from his hunting trip.

Javier sang and played the guitar by the campfire earlier and some people sang along. In general, this evening was one of those that made you feel warm inside.

The night sky was clear, stars peeking down at you as you wished your mare a good night, patting her neck and giving her a carrot before you'd leave her to sleep. That girl was dear to you and you showed her gratitude every day.

A small kiss on her nose and you finally turned around, admiring the full moon shining bright on the ink black sky. You walked across the quiet camp, careful not to make too much noise. You made your way straight towards the small light of an oil lamp in Arthur's tent.

He sat on his bed, slouched over his journal set on the table, writing with all focus. You smiled, feeling all the affection you felt for that man.

When you came close, he looked up from his journal, his gaze softening as he patted the place beside him. "C'm sit."

You sat right next to him, putting your hands in your lap as you gave Arthur a bright smile. He chuckled. "Ya done givin' that horse a g'night kiss?" he asked with a small grin on his face, returning his attention to the half-filled pages.

You slightly poked his arm with your elbow, a soft smile lingering on your lips. "She's like my family," you explained.

"I know. 'S cute."

You shuffled a bit closer, watching the pencil in Arthur's hand move swiftly. You enjoyed watching him write and draw, those idle moments always brought you comfort. And you had the honor to be allowed to watch. Arthur believed his drawings were nothing special but you knew better. His ability to draw details of an animal or scenery he saw just once from memory still blew your mind. You could barely recall such details, let alone draw them.

You quietly continued to watch, taking in every pretty letter he drew one after another. When he was done with the entry, he flipped the page and started sketching.

"What are you drawing?" you asked, watching the first lines of the sketch.

"A moose I saw t'day," Arthur answered, his voice calm and focused.

You continued to watch him and set your elbow on the table after a while, leaning your head against your hand. As always the drawing came out beautiful and you admired the authentic features of the animal that was looking up at you from the page. Arthur put the pencil aside and sighed, stretching his arms.

He then looked at you, a warm smile on his lips as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders. You leaned back from the table and snuggled into the half-embrace, resting your head on Arthur's shoulder. His body was warm and so were his fingers that drew small circles on your arm.

"Ya tired yet, darlin'?"

You smiled at the pet name and slightly shook your head. "Not really."

"Do y'want me to draw s'mthing for ya?" Arthur offered, watching your face intently as you thought.

"Me," you eventually said with a small grin. He drew you all the time and you loved every each one of those drawings.

"M'kay." He shortly caressed your arm before removing his from around you, shifting in his seat as he took the pencil again. He slightly nodded towards you. "Sit there, wanna hav' a good look at ya."

You slightly moved away to sit at the other edge, still facing Arthur who turned his body towards you, bending his leg on the bed to lean his journal against it. You shortly ran fingers through your hair, setting strands over your shoulders, and straightened your back, ready to be his model.

His face was relaxed as he started sketching, the soft sounds of the pencil gliding over the paper filling the air between you. Arthur kept looking up at you regularly, a gentle smile on his face as he met your soft affectionate gaze.

There was silence between you two but it was comfortable, happy. The light from the oil lamp lazily danced over the left side of his face, highlighting his features.

He was beautiful. As you remained motionless, you thought about how often he put himself down, being completely clueless about how he looked in your eyes.

"You're so pretty," you said quietly, nothing but affection and genuinity in your voice.

Arthur looked up at you surprised, then got visibly flustered as he blushed and looked back down at the sketch, scribbling on. He let out a small low chuckle. "I ain't pretty."

You slightly frowned, displeased with him rejecting the compliment like that. "So I am a liar?"

Arthur looked up, for a short moment he looked like a clueless child trying to find the right words. "I ain't meant it that way..."

You couldn't hold back a smile. "Just take the goddamn compliment, Mr Morgan, it's not so hard."

Arthur softly huffed as he returned his focus to the sketch, seemingly uncomfortable. A sad feeling grew in your chest. He really had no idea, did he?

"Am I a good model?" you asked after a while of silence. You knew very well he could draw you from memory but this was easier and you enjoyed being the center of his attention in any way. Frankly, Arthur enjoyed studying your features as you sat in front of him as well.

Arthur smiled. "M'favorite."

After a few more moments, he took a few glances at you and back at the journal with a satisfied expression, putting the pencil away.

Your face lit up as you shuffled over, curiously peeking at the page. You were met with your own soft gaze staring back at you, every detail of your face in its place. It melted your heart how carefully drawn each line was.

You kissed Arthur's cheek, loosely wrapping your arms around his neck. "Beautiful as always. Thank you."

"Yer beautiful," he said in response, putting the journal flat open on the table.

You slightly blushed and moved to sit behind him, resting your chin on his shoulder as you kept your arms wrapped around him. You weren't great at accepting compliments either. "Thank you, Mr Morgan." You sighed softly, feeling Arthur's hands envelope yours. "My talented outlaw," you mumbled quietly but clearly enough for him to hear.

You heard a chuckle. "What?" you asked, unsure of what that was for. "Yer in an affectionate mood t'day," he stated, amusement in his voice.

"There a problem with that?" you asked but the smile on your face remained.

You slightly leaned back and moved your hands to his shoulders, instinctively massaging them as you thought. Arthur was out hunting, riding and shooting most of the time, so your massages were always appreciated.

You heard a quiet sigh of relief as his body started becoming more relaxed.

"Would u like to go hunt with me tomorrow?" you asked. You were tired of being stuck in the camp and honestly going on a little trip with Arthur wouldn't be bad at all.

"Sure."

You smiled and reached for his suspenders, then slid them off his shoulders. He understood and unbuttoned his shirt so that you could get a better access to his back and shoulders.

"Thank you, darlin'."

You hummed in response and continued, your gaze moving over his exposed skin covered with small scars. You wondered about the story behind each one of them, some seemed to be almost faded while there was one very fresh bruise, a red line of dried blood.

Arthur took out a cigarette and lit it, puffing as he relaxed under your touch. He probably would've offered you one as well if you smoked, but you didn't, only ever tasting tobacco when you kissed him. You never minded.

After a few more moments you put a kiss on the nape of his neck, then kissed the fresher wound as well. You were always so worried whenever he left to do a dangerous job, only praying he'd return in one piece, but you knew it was his life; and you were a part of it.

When you moved to sit next to him again, cheeky smile on your face as your eyes met, Arthur sighed, mumbling with cigarette between his lips. "Yer too good for'm, woman."

You stared into his blue eyes for a long moment, a quiet voiceless conversation happening between you two with eye contact alone. He cared for you as much as you cared for him.

Without a word you snuggled up closer, soon being enclosed by body warmth as he embraced you. You relaxed into the hug and closed your eyes, just listening to Arthur's inhales and exhales of the smoke.

You assumed Arthur must've been thinking as well, as there was yet another comfortable silence between you two and you were slowly but surely slipping into sleep.

Arthur stubbed out his cigarette and wrapped his arm around your waist, making you open your eyes just as he moved back to a half sitting half lying position on his bed, effortlessly taking you with him so that you lay between his legs, head resting on his chest. You quietly giggled at the sudden movement and made yourself comfortable afterwards, positioning your head exactly so that you have Arthur's heartbeat beneath your ear.

You were happy to have him all for yourself, safe, alive. The mess in Blackwater or the emergent stop in Colter could've been much more fatal for you two. Davey and Jenny were gone. John was attacked by wolves. And although you loved Horseshoe Overlook, the homely feeling and the beautiful view, you knew you'd have to move eventually. You needed money and you weren't getting it exactly the legal way, and you could only lie low so long.

And frankly, with Micah in the gang now, your worry rose even more. Dutch trusted him, for some goddamn reason, but he seemed to be reckless and dangerous, bending some of the morals this gang used to have. Not to mention him being a straight up jerk to everyone.

"Arthur?" you spoke, your voice slightly worried as you caressed his arm with your fingers.

"Hm?" His chest vibrated under your head.

"We can't let another Blackwater happen again."

Arthur understood what you meant. Him and Hosea tried convincing Dutch that the ferry job was a bad idea but it happened nonetheless, putting your gang in a situation worse than ever before. You worried about the influence Micah had on Dutch and the potential limits.

You knew that Arthur trusted Dutch, him and Hosea raised him, after all; but he wasn't stupid either. And the plans Dutch claimed to have planted seeds of doubt in almost everyone.

Arthur's response was a sigh and a kiss on top of your head, his arms hugging you just a bit tighter. There wasn't really much he could say to comfort you, he always tried to be honest and he couldn't know how the future would unfold, after all.

But you trusted him. That he would do the right thing.

With Arthur's heartbeat echoing under your ear and embraced by his warmth, you were slowly being lulled to sleep by his regular breaths.

Whether you'd stay outlaws forever or not, this really was all you had wished for.

#arthur morgan #rdr2 #arthur morgan fic #arthur morgan fanfiction #arthur morgan x reader #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan x female reader #rdr2 fanfiction #rdr #rdr fanfiction #arthur morgan oneshot #arthur morgan x reader fluff

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simonrillleyyysss · 5 months

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Hi hello! Could you do one for Soap please where his s/o is more reserved, sensitive and softspoken than he is especially in social settings and it has her feeling insecure? Like she can't "match his energy" or something so she doesn't truly belong with him?

the introvert and extrovert trope🫶🏼💞

soap is always considerate—no matter the situation, especially considerate when he sees how shy you get in public, clinging to his side and just letting out slow nods when he asks you something, it makes the man’s heart melt!! how could it not? his pretty wee pup hiding behind him like a cowering dog :((

never forces you to speak though, he answers questions for you. at a café, and you’re too shy to speak? don’t worry, he has your back babeee!

‘and what would you like, maam?—‘

‘she wants a chocolate eclair, nat’ the wee small one though—a big ‘un, wae a cuppa, cheers.’

opposites attract. fullstop, he’s bubbly, cheery and can get along with almost anyone—you’re meek, keep to yourself and only speak unless spoken to, and the teasing does happen, that’s why he’s there, though <3

‘no—no johnny..don’t say anything—‘

yet ur pleas fell to deaf ears, gently pushing your hand away from his arm as he turned round’ to face your antagoniser

‘what t’fuck did yae’ jest’ say t’her? ill bounce ye’ up an’ down that kerb, ya’ cunt!’

sitting in bed together after a day out shopping, rested comfortably beside your doting partner, matching lilo and stitch pyjama set thrown atop you both— fingers circling ‘round the man’s chest slowly.

‘do you think..’

a pause, the man’s bright eyes flickered to meet your own soft gaze, your plush lips parted.

‘do you think i’m too..quiet? like.. we don’t fit? match..? surely you could go for someone more,like.. social.’

sniffling, tears pricked your waterline, stabbing your cheeks like a thousand shards of glass, inhaling softly.

‘am i good enough?’

immediately, mactavish scoffed and rolled onto his side, arm slung ‘round you and trapping you on the bed, kissing your jaw.

‘dinnae say that. don’t ye fuckin’ dare, love.’

‘yer’ perfect, fuckin’ stunnin n’ fit me perfectly, dinnae matter if we’re ‘opposites’, fuck whoever created that wee image.’

‘you’re amazing, and so is she.’

johnnys hand moved to slide between your furry bottoms, index finger gently tapping at your clothed cunt.

‘how ‘bout i make you talk if yer so nervous about it, aye?’

#soap mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #cod soap #soap call of duty #johnny soap mactavish x reader #soap john mactavish #john soap mactavish #johnny mactavish #john soap mctavish x reader #johnny mactavish headcanons #johnny soap mctavish x reader #johnny mctavish x reader #soap johnny mactavish smut #soap mactavish fluff #soap mactavish x you #johnny soap mactavish #soap mactavish headcanons #soap mactavish smut

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daryl-dixon-daydreams · 4 months

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Words: 1,731 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: Alexandria, pre-Negan Warnings: language, mild gore (killing walkers) Summary: Daryl can't figure out why there is distance between you and him since arriving to Alexandria and he worries as you venture outside the walls almost every day. A/N: This is Part 1 of a two part commissioned miniseries! Final part will be out Friday, 9 Feb 2024 A/N: The patron and requester for this fic is the lovely @easy-peasy68 so thank her for her amazing generosity and support! Thanks again for the commission, hun!

“Who was that?” Daryl asked, flicking his lighter open and closed aimlessly as Carol came back into the kitchen.

“Y/N,” Carol said. “She’s heading out. Said she’ll be back by dark.”

“Mmm,” he hummed, ducking his eyes. “What’s she doin’ out there anyway? Seems like she’s been goin’ out a lot.”

Carol shrugged. “I don’t know. I think she forages a bit. But mainly I think she likes being out in nature, outside the walls instead of in here.” She gave Daryl a pointed look. “Sound familiar?”

He hummed another non-committal noise and headed out onto the porch. Maybe he could catch a glimpse of you heading down the street. Carol followed behind him.

“You could go ask her yourself, you know,” Carol said.

Daryl shook his head. “Nah… I feel like she’s been avoidin’ me since the road.”

“Avoiding you? What do you mean?”

Daryl shrugged and sunk down on the top step, digging in his pocket for a cigarette. “I dunno… I’ve seen her chattin’ with some of the people in here but doesn’t seem like she’s around the house much anymore. Seen her outside the walls once or twice, but—she just kinda moved off when we saw each other. Like, in a hurry…” he drawled. His face fell and it wasn’t lost on Carol.

“Hmm. Maybe she’s just trying to fit in here. Find her footing, you know?” suggested Carol.

Daryl shook his head. “I dunno. I dun think it’s just that. Just seems different than it was—out there, ya know…”

Carol leaned down and stole the cigarette dangling from between his fingers and straightened up. “Well, maybe she thinks you stink like cigarette smoke,” she said, dropping it to the porch and putting it out with the toe of her shoe.

Daryl glared up at her, clearly annoyed. “Real nice,” he drawled, squinting ahead into the growing daylight.

Carol laughed. “I’m sure you’re reading too much into this. This is a huge adjustment for all of us. I mean look at me,” she said, twirling so he could take in the full effect of her meek, suburban housewife outfit.

Daryl rolled his eyes. “Ya look stupid,” he commented.

“Oh, now who’s being mean, Pookie?” she laughed, ruffling his hair playfully. Daryl pulled away and she let out another good-natured laugh. “I have to go figure out how to make casseroles out of sardines and almond flour,” she said. “Just—go talk to her. You know, like a grown-up,” she teased him. Daryl only let out another low growl, annoyed, and waved at her as she left.

Throughout the day, as he passed the time building his bike in Aaron’s garage, he was run through with sudden bolts of anxiety and fear that caused his hands to still in the middle of a task. He kept one eye on the sidewalk outside, hoping to see you wander in safely so he could let go of the worry that was plaguing him. What if something happened to you out there? A bad run-in with strangers, a herd, something as simple as a fall or trip that left you injured enough you couldn’t make it back… Shit. He had a hard time focusing on what he was doing and found himself screwing on and unscrewing the same nut three or four times in a row. Curses murmured under his breath punctuated the metallic tinkering sounds. Daryl refocused and tried his hardest to put it out of his mind.

But as the day wore on and the light outside started to wane, he replaced his tools and wiped the oil and grease from his hands, and he was absolutely certain you hadn’t passed the garage on your way home. The lightning bolts of worry had now turned to an acidic rolling boil in his stomach and he couldn’t help himself any longer…

He rushed home, took the stairs down to the basement two at a time, and retrieved his gear. He didn’t know what the hell he was actually going to be able to do to look for you… It would be dark soon and tracking in the brush and brambles by the beam of a flashlight was no easy task. The only thing he did know was that he couldn’t wait around doing nothing any longer.

He was halfway to the gate when the familiar sound of your laugh drifted across the manicured lawns toward him. He looked up and—there you were. You were illuminated in the warm glow of the porchlights on a house up ahead. You were standing on the top step, one hand on the railing, talking with the elderly couple who had fussed over Judith only that very morning.

The pit in his stomach relaxed and he let out a relieved sigh, his muscles unknotting. You were back inside the walls and you seemed to be completely unharmed. You looked happy even, talking animatedly to the couple. It produced some kind of pang between his lungs. Daryl watched as you swung your pack off your shoulder and dug inside, retrieving a small burlap bag that you handed to the woman. Daryl felt as if he was peering through a window at a life he’d never have, though he wasn’t able to put any name to the feeling in the moment. He felt as if he didn’t belong.

And then another emotion welled up in his chest, tightening his lungs. He was, frankly, annoyed. He’d spent all day worrying about you, watching to make sure you made it back in one piece, and then panicking when you hadn’t returned and the sun was sinking. And then he finds you here, already safely inside and chatting away with community members you’d hardly known for two weeks. How long had you been back? How long was he needlessly worrying and picturing worst case scenarios? What the fuck? Why did everything feel so different in here than it had on the road? He felt like you hardly looked at him. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d had a real conversation with you. Goddammit! He turned around and headed back home with a different kind of unsettled feeling in his midsection.

Without saying a word to anyone, he slipped down into the cool dark of his basement room, dropped his gear, and flopped himself down on the bed.

But sleep was not forthcoming and he found himself tossing and turning most of the night.

_ _ _ _ _ _

Daryl splashed water on his face then cupped it into his hands and took a sip—it was cold and bracing. He straightened up to stare at himself in the ornate mirror. He had a somewhat ragged look because he simply refused to let Carol trim his hair still. His skin was bronzed to a dark tan from endless days wandering in the sun on the road. He shook the wet strands of his dark curtain of hair out of his eyes, dried his face and hands, and headed outside.

He almost ran right into you.

“Oh!” The noise of surprise left your lips and your hand shot back from where you’d been reaching for the doorknob. You were staring right at the broad chest and shoulders of Daryl.

“Sorry,” he drawled, but he didn’t move out of the way. His eyes drifted to your pack slung over your shoulder. “Goin’ somewhere?” he asked.

“Hmm? Oh, I’m just dropping something off for Maggie,” you said, gesturing with the little sack of dried leaves in your hand.

“Nah. I mean yer pack,” he said, nodding toward your shoulder.

“Oh. Just heading outside the walls for a bit,” you said. You couldn’t understand why he was still standing in the doorway, completely blocking your path.

“Mmm,” he hummed, chewing on his bottom lip for a moment. He seemed to be on the edge of saying something else.

A nervous tightness appeared in your chest and you couldn’t help looking up at him, perplexed. You shifted your weight anxiously from one hip to the next.

Whatever he had been considering saying, he thought better of it and he stepped out of the way for you, holding the door open so you could get inside. “Well, be safe out there,” he said as you slipped past him.

“Yeah. Thanks,” you said over your shoulder. You heard the snap of the door behind you and let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. Why had he seemed so tense?

Having delivered the leaves for tea to Maggie, you chatted with the rest of your found family for a few minutes before leaving the house again to head to the gate. Daryl was nowhere to be seen but you had an expanding emptiness between your lungs. Things had been hard between you and Daryl since that night on the road… You needed a distraction. The woods were good for that. Going out and soaking in the wonder of the natural world seemed to put everything right, if only for a time. You marveled at the abundance of yellow and orange chicken-of-the-woods, the crimson warning of fly agaric mushrooms, and the tangled brambles that would be weighed down with wild berries come late summer and early fall. So, with that peace and quiet in mind, you headed through the gate, thanking Sasha who rolled it back and shut it behind you. You were soon among the trees.

You had no idea that Daryl too was resolved to head into the woods as well. In fact, he was resolved to follow you and relieve the troubled feeling that plagued him—that combination of annoyance, perplexity, and worry that kept him awake all night. Why were you going outside the walls damn near every day and why were you avoiding him? He couldn’t stand it anymore. He fucking missed the way things had been before Alexandria. It even had him yearning for the time on the road despite all the thirst and hunger and grief he was wading through… and that thought was insane. No, he was going to deal with this, whatever it was.

#daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon twd #the walking dead #twd fanfics #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl imagines #daryl x y/n #fanfics #writers of tumblr #twd drabbles

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thatfreshi · 8 months

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Greater Than This (Astarion x Reader)

Part 2 to It's Over

Tw - mentions of abuse

Recommended Song: If I'm Being Honest - Dodie

You walk around Baldur's Gate aimlessly, wondering if he'll follow you, wondering if he really meant everything he said. You didn't really mean it, when you said it was over, just something to hurt him the way he hurt you. That's the problem with you and Astarion: you can be so childish at times, always looking for an eye for an eye. Perhaps it's all you know. Maybe it was for the best, to not try and love one another, maybe you just didn't know how.

But then again, how could you sit there and let him become everything he hates? And why would he want that? Had he genuinely convinced himself it would be any different? That he wouldn't fall victim to demonic greed? Or was he truly just petrified, after centuries of being the beaten underdog? It makes your eyes water just thinking about it, the few things he had told you, the times your tadpoles connected and you were witness to atrocities you didn't know existed. It wasn't fair, but nothing is.

He's thinking about it too, the horrors of the kennels, the crypt and the taste of mold. Astarion didn't mean it when he said you were just like Cazador. In fact, he's nauseous at the thought of him even saying such a thing. But he snapped at you, and it was enough for you to say it was over. Were you being genuine? He wasn't sure, but he could very easily believe you'd want to leave him. Sure, he's so enraged, but he loves you truly. Two very hard feelings to balance. Unsure of what to do with all his scattered feelings, he finally makes his way downstairs to join the group.

"Well well, if it isn't the vampire of the hour. How ya doin' Astarion?"

Karlach gives him a slightly unwelcome pat on the back. He tries to think of some snarky thing to say, something sassy that will get a little laugh, but he can only muster up a meek sentence.

"Do you know where Tav is?"

It grips at his heart, how pathetic he felt. Gods, how could he be so angry but so sad? He knows you're often right, that you usually make better choices than him, but did you really make the right choice this time? Was he really so incredibly wrong? But still, you killed Cazador, which he had every right to do.

"They uh... they left a while ago. Seemed very upset."

Wyll takes a sip of his water afterwards, as if to avoid saying anything else.

"Guess it's a good thing I don't burn in the sun just yet."

Astarion leaves the inn, leaving your companions to speculate about the lover's quarrel. He walks around town looking for you, listening intently to all the footsteps nearby. Perhaps it was years of training himself, but he was quite good at determining whose steps were whose. You catch sight of him as you're sitting under a large oak tree, and part of you is furious. But the other part of you screams for him, begging him to notice you. He does soon enough, and he makes his way to the grassy patch beneath the leaves.

"Mind if I sit?"

You don't know what to say. Clearly he doesn't either, as he's questioning if he was even allowed to ask. Despite the confusion in the air, you pat the ground next to you.

"I don't think you're like him."

He wraps his arms under his knees.

"I know. But you still said it."

"I know. I guess I still say plenty of stupid things."

You look up at the sky, thinking about how sunny it is today.

"Did you really want to do the ritual Astarion?"

He lets out a small breath, like a tiny laugh.

"I don't know. I just wanted to feel like I meant something. I wanted to be something greater than this."

"You're already so extraordinary. I wish you could see that."

The vampire doesn't know what to say. How could he ever describe just how horrible he feels? He feels like nothing.

"Me too."

"You don't have to be some grand creature. You can just be Astarion."

"But who would ever respect that? A sad little boy, some meek vampire spawn with no master."

"I respect you."

"I didn't feel respected when you killed Cazador. You undermined me. You've never made me feel like that before, like I was less than you."

You start to cry again, putting a hand on his knee.

"I never wanted to make you feel less than, but I was so fucking scared. You were about to make a really bad decision."

"It just made me feel like you don't trust me."

"Of course I trust you, but it's easy for your view to become blinded when you're processing so much. Going back there, I know it was hard on you, and you wanted to take the easy way out, the path of least resistance."

His eyes meet yours.

"Would you be proud right now, if we were in that palace, if you had become the ascendant? Is that how you'd want to spend your days? Towering over people?"

"No. But at least no one could make me feel small again."

Astarion leans into your side, starting to let go, letting the emotions come and go.

"I know my love, I know you've been made to feel inferior your whole life, but it's over now. I won't ever let someone make you feel like that again."

"You- can't promise that."

"No, but I'll try my damnest."

You lay your head on his, and the two of you cry for a while, as strangers walk by, wondering what two adventurers are doing crying under a tree. Oh how little they know.

"You were right. To stop the ritual I mean. I think I was just angry with myself, how meek I felt."

"I still should've done it with your permission."

"You know how stubborn I am darling. I probably wouldn't have listened."

"I didn't give you a fair fight."

"Are we going to keep trading blame? Or can we just get to the part where we make up?"

You smile, wiping away a tear, and the two of you go in for a soft kiss.

"I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry too. See? Easy, we're even now."

"How do you do that? Just, realize you were wrong and move on?"

"It's easy. Or, it's easy with you at least. You don't ever get truly upset unless something matters, and you're usually more grounded than me. I get out of hand quite easily you know."

"Oh trust me, I know."

Light laughs in the sun, a static day with no breeze, just the heat beating down on the townspeople. It's not perfect. The two of you both overstepped, but you love each other enough to work through it, to try and see the other point of view, even if it's after nasty arguments. The two of you are messy, but damn do you love messy. Especially if messy is a white-haired vampire, who you get to spend the rest of your life with once the Elder Brain is gone. You see it now, a big house, and more stupid shouting matches that you'll fix shortly after. The price you pay to be two people trying to learn how to love, learning how to live, freely.

#baldur's gate 3 #astarion #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #angst #comfort #x reader

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