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malleleothreesome · 5 months

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Leona who is pining after you...

💛 summary: Cohesive blurbs about things Leona would do and what he would be like if he were pining after you. ༶༶༶ 💛 warnings: gender neutral reader, unedited, pretty much just a stream of my thoughts. There is cursing. Very angsty but also has romance. Mentions of depressive thoughts. A very raw look into Leona's mind. There is smut (wet dream) in the middle, marked with 🔞 if you want to skip to the next bullet. ༶༶༶ 💛 word count: 4.7k because I'm delulu

💛 Leona who is pining after you... tries to gaslight himself and cling to any sort of logical explanation he can come up with to try to convince himself that he definitely does not have feelings for you. It was probably just a one-time thing, and he just needs to find a way to get you out of his head. He's never thought about anyone this way before, so it's definitely just an error in his brain chemistry or something. It was only a coincidence that he happened to be thinking about you at that particular time, and if you had never been on his mind at all, his heart wouldn't be beating so fast every time he interacts with you. He would never allow himself to develop feelings for anyone, especially you, so he must not actually have any. It's really that simple. It couldn't possibly be that he's fallen for some weird, magicless human, right? Right?! There has to be something medically wrong with him! He must be crazy to have these kinds of thoughts about a stranger who just randomly poofed into existence at the beginning of the semester. Why did you invade his dreams? It doesn't matter! What the hell is wrong with him?!

It has to be a mistake, because there is no way he would EVER fall for someone as annoying and boring as you are, even if you do seem to have a better understanding of him than the people who have known him his whole life, and you treat him like he actually matters instead of seeing him as the scumbag you probably should have gotten to know better before giving him your time and attention. It's not like he genuinely cares what you think of him, anyway – he’s just grateful that he doesn't have to deal with another person treating him like a failure or a lazy, worthless piece of shit.

The way you look at him like he could be someone worth loving despite his constant tirade of anger is definitely not a key factor in him caring for you. Your smile and laugh makes his chest feel funny, and the fact that he is suddenly hyper-aware of his body when he's around you is probably just a symptom of mental or physical illness. Maybe he’s finally eaten too much red meat and he’s about to succumb to heart disease at the ripe age of 20. Perhaps he simply hasn't rubbed one out in a while and he’s thinking with his dick and not his head? He's definitely not attracted to you, and he's absolutely not thinking about what it would be like to kiss you right now. That would just be insane, and he can't believe he even let himself entertain the thought! He’d rather die than think about what it would be like to wrap his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him as you sit on his lap, looking down at him with that beautiful smile and those cunning eyes of yours, gently stroking his face as you lean down to press your lips against his… oh, god dammit!

💛 Leona who is pining after you… finally lays down in surrender to the fact that, alright, maybe he does have feelings for your dumb ass – against all odds. He convinces himself that he’s only humoring this pathetic little crush because it makes his monotonous, tiresome days a little more riveting. Lions are predators, and the thrill of the hunt is a key part of their nature, after all. Before you, all he had to look forward to was staring at the ceiling in his dark room for most of the day until the stars showed up in the sky, or until he got roped into housewarden drama and became too frustrated to do anything other than restlessly pace around Savanaclaw before eventually confining himself back to the comforting solitude of his room. He tells himself he might as well allow himself the small luxury of thinking about someone who doesn’t entirely annoy the shit out of him, because he could sure as hell use the emotional relief. At least this way, he isn’t actively thinking about how much he hates his life, and how much he hates himself for letting it become this way. Besides, what would be the harm in letting himself entertain the idea that maybe, just maybe – if he was lucky enough – you could be the first person to ever break down the walls he built to keep himself from getting hurt by other people? Plus, if nothing else, you make for such a pretty daydream.

Every moment he spends with you makes him want you to keep sticking around even after everything is said and done. You can actually keep up with his banter, which is probably why he can actually stand being around you in the first place. No one else is capable of keeping up with his quick wit, or of providing him with a good challenge. You aren't scared off by his harsh demeanor, and you're able to stand up to him when he gets a little too overbearing. You don't take his bullshit, but you still care about his well being and treat him with respect. Despite his public struggles, you don’t see him as some sort of charity case. He's never met anyone else who is able to be so firm with him, but gentle at the same time. He didn't know someone could have such a strong presence without even having magic, but you're somehow always able to pull the rug out from under him, showing him that you're much more powerful than he initially gave you credit for. You're a real pain in his ass sometimes, but you're also the only person in years who's made him feel like life might actually be worth living. Maybe these feelings aren't so bad after all…

💛 Leona who is pining after you… starts leaving his room more often and even attending classes again, hoping he'll run into you on campus. If he doesn't see you, that would suck, but he knows if he stays in his room all day, then he'd risk losing the chance to spend the day with you completely. Besides, if there's even the slightest possibility, seeing you could be the highlight of his day and make even his shittiest days seem almost bearable. When you finally show up, he throws a casual greeting and a nonchalant raise of a single brow, pretending like he coincidentally ran into you in the crowd and totally didn't memorize your class schedule. When your face lights up, telling him you were glad to run into him, his pulse races and for a split second, a goofy grin flashes on his face and he desperately starts fighting his tail from swishing eagerly behind him. All he does is mumble in agreement, then shove his hands in his pockets, rolling his eyes like this isn't what he's been waiting for since he woke up. He says he might as well join you in the cafeteria, because he's starving and it's that time anyway, so whatever.

As you enter the lunch line, your face falls in disappointment when you realize your favorite sandwich is sold out. Leona expected something like this would happen, so he asked Ruggie to grab him one of that type of sandwich along with his usual order, on the chance that he would get to spend lunch with you. He looks to his right, glancing at your slumped shoulders as your mood seems to deflate a little as a frown forms on your face. He steps forward and grumbles an off-hand comment that he snagged one earlier for himself, but since you look so pitiful, he'll let you have it, only because he doesn't want to deal with your incessant whining the whole lunch. When you gape up at him, shocked by his thoughtful gesture, his face starts burning red as he quickly turns away, aggressively stuffing a bite of food in his face to make himself look distracted. When he happens to catch your thankful eyes glistening at him, it feels like the air has been punched right out of his lungs, and the small smile and sincere gratitude tugging on the corner of your lips causes his stomach to do backflips. How annoying that his usually stoic demeanor always falls apart in front of you.

💛 Leona who is pining after you... constantly teases you and tries to embarrass you, attempting to make it sound like you're the one pining for him (even if you're not!) just to try to distract you from the truth. He teases you relentlessly, hoping it’ll make it so you won't feel confident calling him out on the little ways he treats you differently than everyone else. He loves seeing you get flustered trying to deny it, but he also uses it as an opportunity to study your reactions, trying to deduce your real feelings for him by the color in your cheeks, the wavering of your voice, how often you avert your eyes, and how quickly you fire back with an argument. The smirk that emerges on his face tells you exactly that he's not convinced, even if you deny everything. He may be subtle about it, but he uses every opportunity he can find to feel you out, to see if there's even the slightest possibility you might feel something for him. He'll never let you know how badly he wants it to be true with every fiber of his being. He’d be absolutely thrilled if you confessed to him, but he’ll never show it, because it's far more comfortable hiding behind sarcasm. His prideful, guarded heart prevents him from expressing genuine positive emotions and potentially opening himself up to any type of mockery.

💛 Leona who is pining after you... slowly becoming more attached to the idea of you falling for him. As the weeks go by and he hears you giggle as you argue with him, his thoughts linger a bit more when they try to calculate why he's not actually feeling burnt out from spending so much time with you. His patience with the rest of the world starts waning, not really bothering to deal with anyone or anything that could distract him from basking in your aura for as long as possible. He even takes a more active role in interacting with you, whether you two are chatting as he sits on a bench in the botanical gardens, or hanging out after-hours in his room, hoping that this could eventually become a common routine. He loves learning about you and the world you come from. When you open up about your background, he enjoys getting a glimpse into your mind. His brain starts rapidly filing away little details about you, creating a catalog of thoughts for each of his favorite things about you, or the little quirks you have that he secretly finds endearing. The memories of conversations where you both held each other's gaze for a fraction of a second longer than normal or the accidental touches that cause his heart to skip a beat come to life with a vibrance never seen in other parts of his memory bank. The time you grabbed his hand because the tree branches kept making “spooky” noises around you and the time you playfully messed up his hair (even daring to cop a feel of his ear in the process!), are some of his favorite memories to revisit.

As you two grow closer and more comfortable with each other, he pretends to be annoyed at you more often, only because he wants to test how well you can read him, and also how far he can push you. He revels in the way he feels a spark in his chest and a faint smile tugs at the corner of his lips whenever your eyes meet. He tries hard to remind himself that the growing heat rising to his face every time you grin at him is all because of the temperature. His playful touches start to become more sensual, his voice dips deeper and more seductive as his hands linger on your skin, his breath fanning against your face and neck with every taunting word spoken. He hates himself for loving the way you bite your lip and blush under his gaze as he continues to run his hand up your arm, causing your eyelids to flutter. He loves the feeling of power your vulnerable, affectionate expression grants him, the rush of endorphins so great he thinks his entire body might collapse. When he pulls his hand back, the stinging absence leaves him in a state of panic, terrified that this might have been the moment you'd realize how he feels about you and finally flee. In an effort to swallow his vulnerability and save face, he'll cover up his aroused desire with aggression. With a bite in his tone, he'll lash out at you, mocking the way you acted so touch-starved and desperate in the heat of the moment, even though the only one truly desperate here is him. He has to force himself to maintain eye contact and an air of dominance with you while he snaps at you, even as he feels his throat tighten, heart slamming against his ribs. He metaphorically shoves you away and leaves before he loses control, before his raw affection for you spills from his lips like a confession.

💛 🔞 Leona who is pining after you... fast asleep as he lies alone in bed, your figure haunting his dreams. Right before he fell asleep, he was having a particularly bad day and he found himself clinging to a fantasy of holding you in his arms, using you as an anchor to help him process the dread of reality. On a typical night, all he has are his regrets and unanswered questions swirling around in his subconscious, but tonight is different – he falls asleep dreaming about being curled up against your warmth, wondering what it would be like for you to stroke his hair, gently reminding him that there's at least one good thing to wake up for, no matter how empty the day may feel.

As he falls deeper into his slumber, his eyelids begin to twitch and his long eyelashes tickle his flushed cheekbones. He finds himself lost within a dreamy state that feels so very real to him as your face fades into focus. You're kneeling beside him in the bed, and his body is covered in the sheets, with your arms wrapped underneath his shoulder. He can barely tell whether or not this is really a dream at this point as you rest your head against his. He can feel his body stirring and his tail twitching, roused by the comforting and blissful affection. The way you smile at him as you run your thumb along the curvature of his sharp jawline stirs a dormant ache in his soul as you lean forward and leave featherlight kisses in the crook of his neck, causing him to whimper under his breath. He buries his nose in the locks of your hair, desperately wrapping his arms around your waist, pushing your face deeper into the space between his neck and shoulder, craving the coziness and comfort of being physically close to the source of his yearning. In his dreams, your lips are able to be as soft and gentle as they are fierce and demanding, as the grip he has on reality grows weaker the longer he lets himself be trapped under the intoxicating spell you cast upon him, rendering him at the mercy of his deepest desires.

His breath becomes more labored and hitched, his temperature rising as a flush spreads across his face. His body starts moving involuntarily and he buries his hips further into his mattress, his aching cock desperate to be touched, throbbing as his precum smears against the sheets. He begins humping the bed, whining from the friction against his bare skin as he pulls you closer in his dream, shamelessly chasing after the erotic thoughts racing through his mind, fueled by the illusion of having you in his possession – ready to be ravished and worshiped by him and him alone. His full lips part as he moans your name. He thrashes around in his bed, a tingling, aching need radiates throughout his groin as his back arches off of the sheets, grinding his cock against the fabric of his blanket. He can almost feel the warmth of your body as he bucks his hips upwards once more, desperate for your heat. His fingers twitch as they clutch tighter onto the fabric, desperately trying to grab onto the illusion of you instead, wishing he could feel the texture of your skin underneath his fingertips. In his hazy state, he bites his lips and runs his fingers down his sculpted abdomen, his hand with a mind of its own, aching to reach lower. With a sigh of pleasure, he teases the tip of his leaking, throbbing erection as the muscles in his legs quiver with anticipation. He pushes his thumb against the slit of his tip, already wet with his excitement. He slowly rubs circles around his cockhead, causing his breath to hitch and his cock jerk at the sensation. In his unconscious mind, it's not his hand gripping his shaft – it's yours.

He wraps his large hand around the length of his dick, letting out a moan of pleasure as he starts to stroke, his pace increasing steadily with each pump, imagining what it would be like to have you kneeling between his spread legs, looking up at him as you jerk him off, begging to be fucked by him. His cock twitches and aches to be inside of you, to see your lewd expression as his dick fills you, his senses overwhelmed by the sight of you under him, sprawled out, sweaty and splayed wide open for the taking, gasping for air in between broken moans. His hips buck into his hand and he lets out a low growl as he feels the pressure building within him, feeling himself getting closer to the edge. He quickens the pace as he squeezes the base of his cock, stroking faster and faster, trying to keep up with the intensity of his dream. He wants to feel your velvety walls squeezing around him, milking every drop of cum from his throbbing cock. He pants heavily as the sensation of ecstasy courses through his body, moaning your name as he orgasms, his back arching off of the bed as he cums all over his hand, shooting thick ropes of hot cum onto his abs. He slows his pace, riding out his orgasm, lazily stroking his cock as it pulsates through his veins, feeling the aftershocks of pleasure tingling down his spine. With a final moan of satisfaction, he collapses on his bed, utterly spent from his activities. The euphoria of his orgasm fades away as he comes back to reality, slowly finding himself coming into consciousness. As he opens his eyes, the first thing he sees is the mess he made. He groans as he rolls out of bed, annoyed that he has to clean up after his wet dream before he can go back to sleep.

💛 Leona who is pining after you... falls into despair when he realizes his stupid feelings for you aren't going away – they're actually getting stronger by the day. You’ve made him feel like the world's not actually so cruel anymore, but he knows that his tiny, fragile castle is sure to crumble at any moment. Nothing good ever stays his way, does it? He's been telling himself that this was all some game. It's not like he actually wanted to be in a relationship with you, right? That would be far too much work. But what if you were actually worth the time? What if he could have someone who knew every aspect of his being and still loved and accepted him? What if he could be the person who's worthy of your beautiful, unrelenting love? Even as he chastises himself for entertaining the possibility of a relationship with anyone – especially a herbivore like you – a desperate, longing ache burrows into his bones, overpowering the cold, empty hollowness within him that had haunted him his whole life. This can't be love that he's feeling, and if it is... he knows now that love is the only strategy game in existence he's terrible at playing. There's no doubt in his mind he'll make the worst decisions imaginable because his entire being is clouded with insecurity. He is painfully aware that if he were to ever open himself up to the possibility of being with you, then his first thought would be of a thousand ways you would hurt him. He tortures himself with worries and fear, letting himself be consumed by anxiety.

The thing that frightens him most is becoming reliant on someone else for his happiness. Having someone whose opinion he actually values not thinking he is good enough for them is his worst nightmare. If there's one thing life has taught him, it's better to not have anyone at all. Besides, he doesn't even deserve you. There isn't a soul in this world who deserves someone like you – someone so selfless, understanding, empathetic, and forgiving. If you were his, you'd suffer. Your light would slowly flicker out from the darkness he would drown you in, just like everything else in his life that ever mattered to him. There is so much beauty to you that would go to waste in his care – why would someone as perfect as you ever settle for someone like him, anyway? There's no way you'd ever return his feelings. And even if you did… could he even be brave enough to allow you in? Does he have the strength to accept a heart freely offered to him? Will the scars and darkness within him allow him to accept such pure and unconditional love? He can't possibly be selfish enough to ask you to take the chance on him. You deserve to be with someone who is strong and complete – someone who can give you their whole being, wholly and unreservedly – not someone who is afraid of showing weakness, for fear of you leaving him broken-hearted. Someone who would actually have the capacity to love you like you should be loved. Not a broken, shattered shell of a Prince that could only ever give you pieces of his heart that are full of cracks.

Why the fuck does his chest hurt just thinking about the fact that you would be better off without him? It feels as if someone were stabbing his heart repeatedly, and no matter what he does, the wounds refuse to close and the blood continues to ooze through the cracks. He stares up at the dark ceiling of his dorm room as a single tear rolls down his cheek for the first time in years as he tries to cope with this excruciating feeling of hopelessness, despondency, and despair. The fear that you will one day be gone from his life grips his soul, his heart pleading with him to simply confess, yet his twisted mind forces him to remind himself of his inadequacy. What a sad, pathetic sight you would see, the once fearsome lion, pitifully pawing at your ankles as his heart poured itself at your feet, praying for the warmth of your love and the validation of your approval.

💛 Leona who is pining after you… hates how obsessed he is with you and your opinion of him. Every day he finds himself trying to be better because you make him want to try harder to make the world a brighter place. Maybe you're right, maybe he doesn't need to be King in order to lead people and do great things. Because of the friendship you two have nourished, he finally feels comfortable opening up to you and talking to you about what he's going through: his past, and how much he truly cares about everyone's safety, success, and overall happiness – a sentiment that's foreign to everyone who's ever known him in the past. Although he still can't bring himself to vocalize his emotions aloud, you now truly understand the message his eyes are always trying to relay, no matter how small the glimpse: even if he was destined for a fate in the shadows, his biggest hope is to someday become the leader he was supposed to be. His newfound vulnerability allows you to slowly chip off the armor that guards his heart and bring him peace, healing his wounded spirit. Because of you, he now understands what it feels like to be valued and treasured by another, and he feels empowered enough to put the effort into doing something to change his future for the better. It scares him how badly he wants to impress you, wanting you to be proud of how he's matured.

Before taking on the daunting task of bettering his Kingdom, he starts with something small – making a positive difference in your life. You actually make him feel useful. He loves the way you look up at him with admiration. He knows now that one of the reasons he fell for you so hard is because you always ask for his advice – knowing damn well he's the smartest person in this godforsaken place – and you actually take it. You listen to him and you value his opinions. Seeing things work out for the better when you take his advice and enact his plans gives him a rush of pride and confidence. It motivates him to keep working hard to have good ideas that benefit the world. He's always enjoyed helping people even though he's bad at putting it into words, or showing his true intentions, instead preferring to keep people guessing while he hides behind his indifference and nonchalant attitude. But now, thanks to you, he finds that the more time he spends caring about helping the people around him, the more understanding and honest he is with himself, the happier he becomes. He's feeling more confident stepping up to the plate, having less fear of letting himself or the other people he cares about down.

He started feeling honored to be the housewarden for Savanaclaw again and he actually takes the responsibility seriously, tackling issues and standing his ground with the students and teachers. He wants to set an example for others, making you proud of his actions by raising his standard. When it comes to issues in the school and within his territory, he's calm and diplomatic as he addresses issues – making sure everyone is heard and everyone walks away satisfied. No longer is he plagued by a lack of enthusiasm to make real, significant changes. He now genuinely enjoys himself, striving to go beyond his expectations to overcome his shortcomings, always pushing himself to think outside of the box. It's like the Leona of his past no longer exists, and he doesn't feel any resentment or shame at the thought, simply believing it's for the better that he finally has the strength to make room for a version of himself he can enjoy instead. Because of your guidance and patience with him, he’s slowly learning to no longer fight his introspective nature, instead choosing to work hard every day to embrace all aspects of himself – whether they be negative or positive. Every day is far from perfect, but he's allowing himself the respite of leaning on your shoulder, even though for now, it’s just as a friend and trusted ally, not as a lover. For the first time, he's happy with where his life is going and the person he is becoming. Through this whole experience of falling for you, he learned that there are still things worth fighting for, regardless of if you one day soon reciprocate his feelings or not. At least, that's what he keeps telling himself.

I was nervous to write this because we all know that canon Leona leaves much to be desired when it comes to his story and the complexities of his character. I've spent over a year of loving him, meticulously crafting who I think he is and who I want him to be. Most days, I'm pretty sure Leona Kingscholar is just a character who exists solely inside of my mind, completely separate from the source material. So, if this resonates with you, I am very glad! Thank you for reading. I hope I was able to bring justice to my beloved Leona! If you would like to see this series with another character, please let me know. 💛 Erica Malleleothreesome

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst imagines #twst leona kingscholar #leona kingscholar smut #twst leona #twisted wonderland leona x reader #leona kingscholar #twisted wonderland leona #leona x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #leona kingscholar angst #my writing

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neuvistar · 1 year

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JUST FOR TONIGHT.

— featuring ┊ dan heng x fem!reader

— warnings / content warnings ┊SPOILERS FOR HONKAI STAR RAIL. (?) dan heng’s dragon form bruh, hear me out on this one, oral sex (f!receiving), squirting, you grab dan heng’s horns as he eats u out like a mad man, um um um pussydrunk!dan heng me thinks, oh my days dan heng’s dragon form omyomymomygodsh, use of nicknames, overall suggestive content || 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

— a/n. bro god has not been on my side lately i’m not getting anything done I’m so sorry i have a life out of tumblr n sometimes i just poof, so i’m sorry but anyways i reached lvl 40 on hsr i need to touch grass me thinks also this is kidna short but i have an excuse i stopped n kept writing n stopped n kept writing n then rushed it n got lazy wooohoooo (oops)

✦ 𝐃𝐀𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐆

“y—you want me to what?”

honestly, you should feel guilty for asking dan heng something so absurd, but it was worth it. i mean, how can he decline when he’s faced with a smiley you, all pretty and dolled up, eager for him to please you, and most importantly eager for him to absolutely ruin you. he was kneeling infront of you, those sweet pretty eyes of his gazing straight into yours, blazing with hunger. he leans forward as he slowly began to plant small yet gentle kisses on your thigh, the shy yet lustful look remains on his face. it’s clear that he's enjoying this.. far too much.

“..are you sure you want this?” he mutters in a soft, raspy voice as he stares at her exposed form, his dark eyes are practically burning with the desire he feels towards her as he grew impatient, wanting to taste you right here and now.

you nodded, reaching down to caress his soft dark locks as he melted in your touch, as red spread across his cheeks. “relax, of course i want this, i’m all yours anyway. why do you think i asked you in the first place?”

“i just don’t want to be rough with you. i don’t want to go too far or anything.”

you pause for a moment, the desire in your eyes growing as you smirk at him, slightly tugging on his locks as you gazed down at him lovingly, “what if i want you to be rough with me?” his dark eyes burn brighter, the fires of lust and hunger engulfing the man's soul as he sees how much you want him, craving him, how much you need him, god.. it only drives him crazy.

“fuck.. you’re getting me all riled up, angel.” dan heng bit his lip as you feel his fingers hook into the hem of your panties, slowly dragging them down before suddenly ripping them apart with his bare hands, letting you feel the cold air on your soaking cunt. “hope you can take everything i give you, baby. you’re a strong girl, aren’t you? you should be able to.”

he spread your legs as he held them down, feeling the wetness of his tongue on your slit. he was just getting started, yet sinful sounds came out of your mouth already. you could feel the softness of dan heng’s skin as it rubs against your own, shoving his tongue inside your hole. not a even a few minutes in and he was already slurping up your juices like it was his last meal. you were absolutely stunning in his point of view, he couldn’t get enough of how hot you looked, how hot you looked with the hem of your shirt in your mouth as an attempt to put a stop to the lead sounds you let out, cock throbbing in his pants at the sight. dan heng’s hands slide between your thighs pushing your legs wider apart, feeling your body shiver as his palms brush over your warm skin, a whimper of pleasure slipping past your lips. he was lapping at your juices like it was no tomorrow, rubbing his thumb on your bud at a harsh pace as he works wonders on your cunt, eating you out like some mad man, he wasn’t ashamed one bit. he wanted to ruin you, he wanted you to remember how good his tongue felt, how skilled he really is.

“danheng.. shit..”you reach down, running your fingers through his hair as your hands slowly run up towards his horns, back arching at how well he was eating you out as his tongue swirled around your bud, sucking and nibbling on it. you whined as you held onto his horns for support, feeling him grunt against you as low vibrations rumbled through your skin. he couldn’t take it, he couldn’t hold himself back. he interlocked his arms with your thighs, digging his face into your pussy even more, desperate and hungry for more.

“s—shit.. sweetheart. ‘keep doin’ that.”

he slid two fingers inside your cunt, a warm thickness that was almost enough to make you cum on the spot, overwhelming you with pleasure. he savoured your taste, he wanted more of it. he wanted more of you and your taste as he circled his tongue around your clit, fingers pumping in and out as they slid in and out of you, the lewd sounds of squelching filling the whole room as he crooks them perfectly, plunging them in your deepest areas as wetness began to coat around his fingers, indicating that your orgasm was close.

“d—danheng..”you tightened your grip around his horns, making him moan against your folds as you threw your head back. the feeling of your fingers shaking around his horns drove him to the edge, as if it made something within him snap in a millisecond.. he just love how soft your hands felt around his horns, groaning at the way his cock throbbed when you did so, palming himself gently through his pants. he looked up at you as he saw the way your head was thrown back, the way your legs spread even more as if it was asking him to eat you out even more, cheeks flushed and eyes rolling back to the back of your head, you couldn’t take it anymore. “dan heng.. c-can’t anymore— ‘m gonna cum, please!”

you tried pushing him off of you, which only lead him to tighten his grip around your thighs, pressing himself closer against your cunt as the flicking of his tongue never stopped one bit, he wanted more, way more, more than he was given. he wanted so much more of you, eating you out once wasn’t enough, he wanted to savour in your taste, he just couldn’t.. couldn’t get enough of you. dan heng wasn’t usually this hungry for you, but tonight was a whole different story.

“‘m gonna cum! gonna cum..!” you buck your hips against him, it’s happening once again, that feeling in your stomach. your aching pussy spasmed around his tongue, tightening around him so well so he could savour every single ridge of your insides gazing up at you as you cried out, reaching your orgasm as you squirted all over his face, panting heavily as the blush on your face reddened completely. dan heng pulled away from you, sliding his fingers out of you as well before licking his lips, wiping his cheek with a slight smirk. both of your thighs shook viciously, wetting the bedsheets underneath making a mess.

“look at the mess you made, baby.” he chuckled before leaning down once more, bringing his tongue down to lick your dripping slit once more. “it would be a such shame if you made even more of a mess, wouldn’t it?”

oh yeah, he wasn’t done with you. he wanted more alright.

#ᖭི༏ᖫྀ maryse’s diary ૮꒰˶˃̵ ^ ˂̵˵꒱ა #dan heng smut #dan heng x reader #dan heng x you #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail smut #honkai star rail #hsr x you #hsr dan heng #hsr smut #dan heng <33 #dan heng in his dragon form bruh holy shit #pussy drink dan heng?? pussy drink dan heng!!!

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b0xerdancer-writes · 1 month

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It Wasn't Supposed To Happen Like This Part 6

Eris x Rhy's Sister! Reader

Summary: Eris used to be attached at the hip to Rhysand’s younger sister. Now that he has taken over as High Lord of the Autumn Court, his father’s old high table have been pressuring him to take a wife, he comes up with the brilliant lie that he's already courting someone and has been for several years now. Eris asks Rhysand’s little sister, the best way to get away with it and make it believable, to fake court her.

Warnings: Elain and Mor slander, cussing 18+, some nsfw lean but no sex scenes yet, alcohol, parental abuse, death, murder, arguing. Not proofread.

Trope/Prompt: Fake Dating

Word Count: 4,644

Notes: Let the ball begin.

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A few weeks later I awoke to a soft knock on my bedroom door. I had been sleeping soundly with the small hound curled into my side, however the small knock was enough to wake her up. I had named her Brandy like the drink my mate was so fond of, she stretched and licked my face to wake me further just as the door squeaked open. Lucien laughed as I groaned and picked Brandy up off of me.

Wait…

Lucien?

Lucien!

Lucien had been out in Autumn Court helping Eris with preparations for the festival for about a week and a half now. His return was a surprise to me and I shot up from the comfy spot I had created.

“Lucien! What the fuck? When did you get back? You arse! You could have told me you’d be back today, I would have had breakfast made!” I growled at him, had he not had Brandy tucked into his arms I would have chucked a pillow at his face.

He laughed back at me and smiled brightly, his hair pulled up in a messy bun and dressed in a cream colored sweater, some comfy loose flowy pants that poofed around his knees from his riding boots, a small tabard for the dagger i had gifted him the first birthday he had that I had seen him since he had escaped to the Spring court. He smiled brightly and looked around my room where gift bag upon gift bag was piled up.

“We finished preparations a day earlier so Eris sent me back here to make sure everything was good and you were ready for tomorrow, He just got his suit last week and didn't need to get it altered by the way. I see he got a bit carried away with his little gifts.” He scratched brandy behind her floppy little ears and let out a small chuckle as she whined whenever he stopped.

“Honestly these are all from throughout the week you've been gone. I just haven't had a chance to go through all of them yet. I mean do we have anything to do today? You could help me, Luc!” I tilted my head at him and he sat Brandy on the floor.

“Well then let's get to it we have a lot to go through, I’ll go get us some coffee and some breakfast sweets from that bakery you like down the road, while you get dressed and ready for the day.” He dismissed himself from the room and I could hear the click of his boots on the floor as he made his way back to the front of the house.

“Hey Luc? Can you take Brandy on her morning walk since you're going out?” I yelled down after him and Brandy barked excitedly.

“Yep! I got you sister!” He whistled for Brandy who raced out of the room after the ginger male.

I heard the jingle of him clipping her leash followed by the click of the door shut. I forced myself out of bed and into the bathroom to freshen up for the lazy day, I moved my hair from my face and slipped into my closet. Once I had changed into some comfy clothes I sat criss-cross on the floor and began digging into one of the bags, the dress I would be wearing tomorrow was neatly hung on my closet door and was a looming reminder of what tomorrow could mean for me and Eris. Lucien returned just as I was beginning to sink into my own thoughts, Brandy was the first to greet me as she climbed her way into my lap. Lucien sat our two cups of coffee on my vanity table and joined me criss-cross on the floor.

The three of us went through bag after bag of gifts, Brandy helping the best she could by being our clean-up team: Her job? To tear up every loose scrap of tissue or wrapping paper that didn't stay in the distinct pile me and Lucien had created. The gifts were unpredictable, the variety too large to guess, still Lucien and I tried our best. So far it had ranged everything from a bottle of wine and nice glasses to drink from and small pieces of jewelry to toys for Brandy, decor pieces to make the small apartment more obviously themed like the Autumn Court, and some very obviously expensive pieces like the last bag I had just opened. Wrapped in shimmery copper paper and tied with a dark green bow, the box was light and Lucien hummed loudly.

“What do you think it is?” He chirped

“Hmmmm, my guess is going to be something for the dance tomorrow, it's the newest present that just came in yesterday.” I hummed back in response.

Pulling the large bow, it untied itself effortlessly, I removed the lid. Just as quickly as I had peaked inside I slammed the lid closed. Lucien looked up at me startled.

“What is it?” He leaned forward trying to grab the box from me to peek inside himself. I swatted his hand and hissed.

He pulled his hand back with a faux-shocked look on his face as he gaped at me. I opened the box again and stared at the jewelry within it. Lucien stared at me expectantly and I tossed the lid into the trash pile, Brandy growling at it as it almost fell out.

“No… he didnt.”Lucien gasped and covered his mouth, the metal eye whirring as his eyes widened.

My eyes darted between the box and Lucien.

“Oh you have him hooked. Seriously hooked.” Lucien mumbled and grabbed a sip from his coffee.

“What do you mean Lucien?” I hissed.

“That, sister, is from the vaults of the autumn court. I saw it earlier this week when I went down there with Eris looking for a piece of art he wanted hung up in the main hall for the dance.”

He murmured as he took another sip to be dramatic.

“Oh.”I mumbled, stunned.

“Oh is right, he's wrapped around your finger hun.” Brandy deposited one of her new toys in his lap and he threw it out in the hall for her.

In the box, nestled on a silky pillow the same color as the bow, was a gold diadem decorated in branches and leaves with a ruby in the center of the point that came between your brows and it somehow matched the cuffs and necklace he had bought me earlier. Beside it was a folded note, written in the familiar cursive scrawl I knew as Eris.

“All preparations have been completed for the festival, Lucien has been a major help in setting everything up while I've been in meeting after meeting. I’m sure you are able to recognize this piece is older, I spied it while in the vaults with Lucien, while I admit it was not my intention at the time to be in the vaults for this piece and I was in fact there for an ancient painting that has been passed down in my family. After I had left the vaults the piece you hold now refused to leave my mind, I imagined how well it would match the cuffs and necklace you will be wearing with your dress for the festival in two days time, I would be honored if you wore this with those accessories as well. It would send a message to all my advisors and those I wish to see replaced, I know it seems a lot and it will take everyone by surprise to see you wear a crown from autumn but my mother had it crafted as a gift for whatever female I decided I was going to court, so it will see its use in you. I will be forced to wear my own similar crown due to my duties as High Lord, so it will make us match even more and present a further unified front to the people of my court who doubt me and pressure me into taking a wife. I thank you in advance my dear. Love, Eris.” I read aloud.

Lucien stared back at me with wide eyes as he prompted my response.

I didn't give one, simply picked up the diadem and rose to my feet. I stood in front of the mirror on my vanity and placed the small gold band on my head, then looked at Lucien with tears in my eyes. He smiled sadly.

“You’ll look like a High Lady tomorrow. Mother save him, Eris will have you decorated and on display more than Rhys does with Feyre.” He huffed with the slightest smile.

I took the crown off and gently sat it on my vanity next to the other jewelry I would be dressed in tomorrow. “Honestly Luc… I think I’m okay with that. I mean it will get suspicion off of Eris, and show him the lengths I'm willing to go for him. Fuck, maybe it will even cause the bond to snap for him, a girl can hope right? If it doesn't go well then I still get to have my fun and imagine what it would be like, right Luc?” I mused at him, sadly at first but then excitedly as I processed the information myself.

He simply smirked at me. “Sure thing, Sister. All I’m saying is, I called it~”

We spent the rest of the evening in the living room burning the tissue paper in the fireplace, eventually Lucien stood and announced he was going to start making dinner. Our night stayed uneventful as we both took our places either side of the table to eat, Lucien eventually herding me to his room to show me the outfit he would be wearing and to show me the trinkets he had brought back himself. Brandy eventually stumbled into the room tripping on her own ears with a big yawn, I collected her from the floor and she whined softly, eagerly awaiting bed.

Lucien chuckled as I dismissed both Brandy and myself from the room, he wished us both a goodnight and closed the door behind us. I had installed steps for Brandy, courtesy of Lucien, so she could climb up and down from my bed as she wished; however due to her size and tendency to trip on her own ears from time to time, often enough I just picked her up to help her up and down. I had sat her in a faux-fur blanket and she began immediately curling into a ball. I couldn't blame her, tomorrow was going to be a long day and she would be joining me; Eris had gifted her an elegant collar that had been lined with fur padding, a deep wine red collar that had small maple leaves embroidered into it, and a little copper maple leaf tag hung from it. I changed into a night slip and joined her in the warm covers, the second I laid down she curled into my side and I dismissed the faelights.

I awoke earlier than I normally did, the dark of the sky just beginning to dim, to find Lucien finishing up his hair in the mirror and he offered to take Brandy out for her morning walk while I got ready myself. Passing him the sleepy pup, he gave me a soft smile and disappeared down the dim hallway, only lit up by one small faelight we used to make sure we didn't trip on any of Brandy’s toys when it was dark inside the house. I slipped into the bathroom around him and leaned down to draw a bath, only to find the bath freshly drawn and warmed to the perfect temperature. Lucien and I had this habit, since we knew the others daily routine so well, from small things like fresh cups of coffee prepared to the perfect temperature with all the fixings in it we had wanted to things such as this, all in favor of making the others day easier for them; it had come to us naturally being roommates for awhile now and even before that when he was small, we would exchange small trinkets like something he found in the gardens and I would bring him a treat from Night Court the next time I saw him.

Lucien returned about half an hour later, a few minutes after I had decided to finally leave the warmth of the bath, now feeling clean and fresh enough to look like the soon-to-be high lady Eris was wanting me to play. I wrapped a fluffy towel around me and slid into my room, slipping on my undergarments and finally stepping into the A-line skirt I had fallen in love with weeks ago.

Lucien knocked softly at the door. “Will you need any help with fastening the dress closed Sister?”

Lucien’s new nickname for me rarely caught me off guard anymore unless he was using it to tease me for what he claimed was Eris’s obvious affections.

“Yes please, actually I could use it now.” I chirpped over my shoulder.

The door clicked open and Lucien stepped in quietly and began fiddling with the clasps on the back. “You know all the high lords will be there tonight right? It's the first holiday or festival hosted in the court since Eris became High Lord. All eyes will be on you two.”

I could hear his genuine worry for me in his voice. “I know Luc, I’ll be okay, Eris will be okay. We’ve got this handled.” I smiled over my shoulder at him and he offered me a unsure smile back,

“I know,” he sighed “I just worry about you two, you two are some of the only family I have, save for Jurian and Vassa.”

I raised my brow at him, he hadn’t mentioned any dealings with the two recently, though I knew the affections he harbored for the two when they comforted after Tamlin sent all of his stuff to the manor south of the Spring Court.

“Will they be there today or tonight as well?” I offered him the ability to further discuss them.

“They should be, during the day at least. That's why we expanded the festival partially, so Vassa could also enjoy it while it also making a statement about Eris’s dedication to the court.” he seemed to brighten up a bit as he got distracted talking about the two.

He sat on the bed and Brandy scrambled to try and climb up the stairs, but when she failed and tripped over her ears Lucien ultimately ended up moving her into his lap. He continued to ramble about some need to know stuff that was seen as customary in the Autumn Court, amongst other subjects, I slipped on the golden cuffs, clasped the necklace around my neck and straightened it out, followed by the ring Eris had gifted me. I slipped on some surprisingly comfortable yet stylish black pumps that had gold detailing on the heels. I grabbed the collar from my vanity and turned to where Lucien was holding Brandy, he unclasped her old collar with a loud gasp and she leapt from his lap, bounding across my bed we both laughed at her antics until she finally calmed and I was able to slip the new one on around her neck.

Lucien stood and ushered me into the vanity chair, he refused to let me do my own hair for events if he had any say in it. He lost himself in styling it before finally setting the golden diadem on my head with a nod, he picked up the container of kohl I had and began lining my eyes with it. Once he had finished, we clipped Brandy into her leash and I picked her up in my arms, she seemed so proud of her new collar. We slipped from our apartment and the wards of the locks clicked into place behind us, he helped me down the stairs slowly making sure none of the tulle or silk got caught. Once we were on the sidewalk I realized the many citizens of Velaris that were out walking around, the sun now early in the sky still well before noon, had their eyes on me and were whispering back and forth with each other with eager smiles on their faces. I knew what they were thinking, Lucien had graciously pointed it out to me yesterday, Oh how I was going to enjoy the look on Rhys’s face when he saw me tucked into Eris’s side; Azriel would probably be told to take a breather by Rhys unless they brought Elain, she might be able to keep him calm.

Lucien tucked me and Brandy into his side, though I could have winnowed us myself Lucien was adamant about me preserving my energy as I ‘have a long day ahead’. Much Like Eris’s winnowing Lucien’s was warm like the caress of heat you would get from sitting beside a bon-fire, but it was unique in itself as it felt like it glittered or shined, that instead of bending the world around him the light and sun rays bent to his whim. Before I could even blink we had appeared in the Autumn Court, the smell of spices and cider filled the air and filled me with a warm familiarity that made my chest ache for Eris. It was only after I stepped out of Lucien’s side that I realized where we stood, the small clearing where me and Eris had once called our sanctuary had been turned into a private garden, a large hedge lined the outer edge of the clearing and led towards the forest house a short distance away.

Only then as I looked around did I realize Eris had the entire clearing decorated in soft fae lights, a sculpted bench sat in the place the old wooden log had, the sir had a soft chill to it and reminded me why I loved this place as much as I did. Lucien stiffened beside me as I sat Brandy on the forest floor, leash clipped neatly to the padded collar, she barked happily in the way of the opening in the hedge that led towards the house.

When my attention drifted towards the gorgeously carved archway, there stood Eris wide-eyed in a suit that matched my dress: primarily black, with the same flame effect of my underskirt on his waist coat. I swallowed sharply and smiled at him, my chest pounded and the bond throbbed with how perfect he looked, with how obvious it would be to all others he was mine.

He gathered his composure and stepped forward, hugging Lucien who dismissed himself through the way Eris had just come, then turned to me and brought my hand to his lips and he bowed softly.

“Cauldron save me, you look gorgeous, just the image I wished to present to my court. Thank you for doing this my lady.”

I smiled softly, feeling heat begin to creep into my face and a throb in my chest. “Mother above Eris, you call me gorgeous yet have you looked in a mirror? You are the epitome of a High Lord!”

He smiled back at me softly, pulling me into a tight hug he sighed softly. “No I mean it Darling, Thank You, tonight would have been so much harder without you beside me. At least now I’ll avoid having to deal with my father’s advisors barking at me to keep my eyes peeled for a pretty female.”

I leaned my head against his chest and sighed, taking in his warm scent. “No worries Eris, like I promised, I’m here if you need me. No matter what. You need me to face every high lord in Prythian all at the same time while posing as your girl? So be it I’ll deal with their eyes on me, no prob.”

I heard him chuckle softly and relax in my arms, Brandy however was not pleased with the fact she was not getting any attention and was adamant about letting us know it. He released me from his hold and looked down at the small hound, with his hands on his hips.

“I hear you mam!” He turned back to me again. “What did you end up naming her?” he kneeled down and scratched behind her long ears.

“Brandy.” I smiled gently watching the scene unfold in front of me.

He snorted as he giggled, Brandy moving to nibble at his hand. “Fitting, she's got the spice of a fire brandy. And it's good to see the collar fits her.”

He knelt there petting the small pup, while looking her over. “No health issues? No training issues?”

I shook my head. “No, I haven't had any issues with her at all. She's been well behaved.”

He smiled and Brandy rolled over onto her belly. “Good, I figured she'd be a good blood line, her sire was Maple’s great-great grandpup.”

I smiled brightly at the two on the forest floor. “I thought I recognized the spunk.”

We both laughed and he rose from the floor, Brandy in his arms happily trying to get to his face, tongue lolling out and settling for just licking at the exposed skin of his arm. I took her from his arms and he offered me his arm, I linked mine and in unison we both took a deep breath.

“To the promise we made all those years ago to never leave the other alone?” He looked down at me out of the corner of his eye.

I nodded. “To the leaves of Maple that were the only beings to hear our promise.”

He nodded back at me and squared his shoulders. All those years ago, when we had made the deal that initially was just him asking to never be left alone, I had extended it to be either way: that We would never leave the Other alone. It had been just us and the trees that day, and as we sealed the deal we had spoken those words to each other for the first time; a sharp sting followed by a dull throbbing on my ankle led me to discover the sight of two small maple leaves intertwined with eachother. Eris had grasped at his protruding hip bone just below where his belt was clasped around his waist, the location of his tattoo had caused my face to heat, just the thought of it today caused blood to rush to my face.

In my dedication to Eris as my mate I had never chased after another male, had no interest in them either really. Of course I knew what would be asked of me as his wife, if had come to that at that time, but all I had ever really seen was my brothers after training, or the low slung pants of male’s at Rita’s that revealed just a little too much for my liking. It had often caused me to lose interest in the current objective that led to me seeing the other males, the bond aching in my chest reminding me of loyalty to Eris, often caused me to return to my room or apartment and escape into the books either within the library or in later years what Lucien and I had collected within our little apartment. Every time we echoed the promise we had made back in the day, I was reminded very quickly of the tattoo on my ankle and the same one on his hip. I felt the heat in my face extended to my pointed ears as my eyes glanced over where the concealed tattoo would be before I straightened my back and looked forward.

Tonight would be hard, I decided. With Eris looking so perfect, the ache of want that had settled in my chest with a slow throb, and the heat in my face and chest that slowly moved lower and lower every time I glanced at Eris by my side. The crunch of fallen leaves under my heels drew me back to reality as we neared the gardens of the first house, I could hear music and laughter from within the house. The halls had been closed off in a way Eris and I could make a grand entrance together through the second entrance into the grand ballroom.

Our steps echoed against the halls as we walked in silence through the now warm halls of the Forest house, till we stopped right in front of a set of large wooden doors. The music and laughter was obvious on the other side of it, two guards looked back and forth between each other and then to Eris.

Eris looked down at me with a worried smile. “Ready?”

“Ready.”I echoed.

We both nodded at each other and then Eris nodded at the guards. Two finely dressed males with simple leathers on, a helmet in one arm and a sheathed blade at either side. They knocked firmly on the door once, the music and chatter from the other side becoming quiet as I heard a loud booming voice clear their throat.

“Introducing our High Lord of Autumn, Eris Vanserra,” soft cheering erupted but was quickly silenced again as the male continued, murmurs replaced the cheering.

“And the female he has declared he will be courting: The Princess of Night Court herself!” Whoops and hollers could be heard as the doors began opening slowly.

Eris and I took a deep breath, Brandy made herself comfortable yet regal looking in one of my arms. I let Eris lead us into the room of Prythian residents. Eris nodded and mouthed a thanks to the small male I now realized was the announcer. We came to a stop a few steps in front of the announcer, and Eris cleared his own throat unlinking his arm with mine.

“Thank you all for being here, I simply wanted to start this celebration with a quick speech.” The way the light of the grand glass chandelier hit him I was breathless, he seemed like the only male in the room as he drew everyone's attention to him.

“As many of you know this is the first holiday I will be celebrating with you all as High Lord, but I would not have been able to do it if it wasn't for the female at my side and my dear brother Lucien, both of you helped me greatly even if you don’t know it. Secondly, I would like to thank the citizens of Autumn Court for believing in me as their new High Lord. My goal from the second I took over the throne has been to reform this court and with your help and dedication I have been able to begin working in that direction. Think tonight not only as a celebration of a holiday but also as a celebration for your hard work. Now please let me not continue to ramble on because I will with thanking you for every little thing that has made tonight possible, and continue your celebrations.” Cheers erupted and I smiled sweetly at Eris as I extended my hand to him which he took eagerly, Brandy cheering him on with her own little howls and bays.

A servant brought around small champagne flutes, both of us taking one as we clinked them together.

“To tonight?” I chirped.

“To us.” Eris echoed my tone, and we both took a sip from the glasses in our hands.

No, tonight wouldn’t be as difficult as I had thought, tonight would be fantastic. I had Eris at my side after all and if all the eyes on us had any indication how it was going so far, it was working.

Taglist:

@stained-glass-eyes0708 @acourtofbatboydreams @abysshaven

@wallacewillow0773638 @azriels-mate2 @sassyslytherinshai

@sparksandstarss @pandabiiissh @saltedcoffeescotch @cirwin2013

@minnieoo @easchies @melsunshine

@sweetcarolina-24 @florenceivy @inloveallthetime

@azrielsmate3 @witchymomfrien @eternallyelvish

@mybestfriendmademe

#acotar x reader #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #eris vanserra x reader #eris acotar #lucien acotar #lucien vanserra #acotar fanfiction

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cryptidcasanova · 2 years

Text

Skull Rock Reckoning

Demon!Eddie Munson x Reader

Ohmygoodness. Like, holy shit, I got the coolest Hellfire Haunts request in my asks. I had it all ready to go, was going to save it in my drafts, and then it never did save. Poof. It’s just gone, not in asks or drafts, so I am so sorry if I am losing you in the tumblr mess!

It was a request for Demon!Eddie, using prompt #1 (I’ve waited lifetimes for you.) It was so so sooooo good, I just had to write it!

Summary: Imagine if Jason Carver and his buddies tricked the reader into going up to skull rock, and instead it was really a sacrifice ploy. They were trying to sacrifice them to summon a demon (Eddie) who is less than thrilled, but it turned out to be a soulmate encounter.

So! If this was your ask, please let me know, and I’m sorry I lost it in the mix!

Warnings: Dark!Soulmate AU, Yandere, Soft!Dark Eddie, Violence, Blood, Dubious themes.

Words: 3k

Jason Carver was the golden boy of Hawkins High, and even after he graduated, his name still carried the same authority.

Sure, you had seen him around. You remembered the way he laughed around his friends and how his eyes would linger when he thought you weren't looking when you two were in school. You knew of his popularity and affinity for the cheer squad. So yes, you knew of Jason Carver.

You just never expected to hear him call your name while you were cruising down the grocery store aisles.

The sound of it was strong, and you turned to see him walking down the aisle with a shopping basket in his hands. You stopped with a slight wave. The smile he gave you was jolting.

"Hey," He grinned. "Have you ever been up to Skull Rock?" He asked, leaning against the wall of canned food.

He had never initiated a conversation with you before, but then again, neither had you. You two ran different circles growing up.

"I can't say I have." You told him with a lazy grin, moving down the aisle to pick up a jar of peanut butter. He watched with mild fascination.

"We're throwing a little party up there for Halloween. Tomorrow night. Spooky things go on up there," Jason continued, and you walked alongside him.

You turned your head back to his, catching his stare. "You know, they say it was a place for satanic worship." He teased.

You rolled your eyes playfully.

"It sounds like a bunch of hocus-pocus."

He scoffed lightly, putting a hand over his chest.

"It's the best place to be. There are no cops, and there will be drinks and music. It'll be a lot of fun." He said. "And I wanted to see if you'll come this year." He gave you a serious look.

You had never been invited by Jason Carver to a party before.

Even when Steve used to throw parties, that was different. You knew Steve, had mutual friends with him. Jason was hardly an acquaintance.

"I don't know," You thought about it, weighing the pros and cons.

"Give it a chance," He smiled again. "Give me a chance. I can pick you up and everything."

You gave him a once over.

Jason wasn't a regular on your radar, but you did notice him. It was hard not to with his popularity and good-boy persona. And you didn't have any plans.

"Oh, what the hell," You nodded with a grin. His dashing expression was blinding. "I'll bring beer."

You should have known it was too good to be true.

Jason had his own agenda all along. You couldn't have known that it was a trap, that you were just another checkmark on his list.

You couldn't have known even when he picked you up in his truck the next day. He was a gentleman, complimenting your little black dress and bat earrings. You got all dolled up for Halloween. He even offered to help you bring your beer bottles to his truck.

For a fleeting moment, you were excited.

But as soon as you opened the truck door, his old basketball buddies jumped out. You were in too deep. You knew something was terribly wrong.

They dragged you into the backseat, covering your mouth and holding you down. The fight was laughable. There were four of them, covering your mouth with duct tape and surrounding you in the truck. They were terrible.

Your wrists and the crook of your elbows were taped. Above your knees and down by your ankles were taped. It was a little more than overkill.

And then, you were trapped between two of them in the backseat while Jason drove, one of his cronies messing with the music.

You couldn't fight off the roll of nausea in your stomach as one of them wafted something under your nose. Was it sage? Weed? It was disorienting, and you couldn't get away.

"Let's go catch us a monster, boys." Jason grinned, looking in the rearview mirror with wild eyes. "This is the year; I can feel it."

There was something deceptively charming in those eyes, something much darker than you thought Jason Carver could be capable of.

There was no Halloween party at Skull Rock.

You tried to fight against the hazy feeling in your head, even as Jason's silhouette in the front seat got blurry and you slumped against the backseat.

He was the monster.

The night was quiet when Jason and his goons finally dragged you out of the truck and into the woods. You had no clear sense of direction. You felt stoned, your legs swaying lightly as he carried you over his shoulder.

The terrain was rugged, and you could feel stray branches and pine needles hitting the back of your legs.

Your vision was blurry, even as they finally broke through the trees to a small clearing. The trees dispersed, and as you were turned around, Skull Rock was the least of your problems.

In front of Skull Rock, Jason and his friends had drawn a symbol on the floor around you. A pentagram, for fucks sake. It was surrounded by a ring of salt, and you looked at your captor like he was bat-shit insane.

“What’s the matter?” He cooed, crouching down in front of you. “We did this all for you. I said it’s gonna be a lot of fun.”

Two images of Carver swayed in front of your eyes, and you groaned out a complaint as he tugged you forward to the middle of the circle. Your knees dug into the cold ground, and you tightened your arms, trying to fight against him.

“Come on, don’t be like that.” He tormented, pulling a dark robe over his shoulders. “We can’t do it without you. There’s never been anyone in the god-forsaken town quite like you. No one is good enough. No one pure enough.”

Your stomach was in knots.

Around the outside of the circle, you could see the others lighting candles and setting down bowls of spices, crystals, and coins around the star tips of the pentagram. You thought your heart was going to beat outside of your chest.

“There’s just one more thing.” Jason tugged at your hands, and you looked at him pleadingly. “Don’t look so scared, babe. You are the prettiest sacrifice we’ve had.”

You hardly had time to notice the pocketknife he procured before it was too late. He was tugging your hands, laying them palms up into the air before slicing across your skin. Your eyes went wide in horror, and you went to scream but couldn't.

Your hands were shaking, your eyes blurry with the threat of tears.

The next thing you knew, Jason pushed down to the forest floor, straight in the middle of the circle. And as your bloodied palms touched the ground, the men began to chant.

There was a pit of anguish in your stomach.

The candles wavered, and as Jason and his goons chanted, you could have sworn that a thick fog filled the area.

You pushed yourself up to your knees. A wild wind blew through the clearing, and the smell of iron filled your lungs.

You were going to die there.

The chanting waned and wavered until the words were booming in your head. You could feel every unintelligible syllable in the crevices of your heart. It was a seizing, aching feeling. You felt like it would pull you in different directions until you realized the candles blazed with a burning hellfire. You could feel the heat against your skin.

Something was happening.

A figure slowly emerged out of the fog, sprouting from the ground in front of you. Tall and humanoid, you fought back the cry clawing up your throat. You couldn’t see anything except for the outline of two fiery eyes. It was clear to see they were angry. You needed to get out of there.

It was a man stepping out of the fog. The candlelight illuminated the shadows of his body. He was bare, save for several tattoos scattered across his skin, and his hair was a wild halo of dark locks that cascaded around his shoulders. As the figure came into view, you had to shake your head to ensure your eyes weren’t deceiving you.

He was captivating.

Glowing eyes and a rounded nose looked down at the circle, his expression void of pleasantries.

"Abaddon, mischief maker, we summon you to the land of the living,” Jason’s voice boomed across the circle.

Even behind the ridiculous cloak, you could sense Jason’s confidence wane.

He got what he wanted, didn’t he?

The man, that thing, you thought, tilted his head to the side with a scowl. You almost thought you saw sharp canines poking into his bottom lip.

“We summon you with the blood of the innocent. That's what we brought you.” Jason called out with a snicker. “Hell, she might even be a virgin.”

Your head snapped from the figure to the cloaks, bile souring your tongue. You resented them, all of them.

The figure stepped forward, the dark fog swirling around his feet.

"You will do our bidding," Jason spoke bravely now. "We've called upon you, and you will obey my wishes-" But Jason's words faded as the creature reached its full height.

"No."

The lone syllable made your hair stand on end. You looked up at the man, what you so desperately tried to make out as a man, but it was fruitless. His movements were too smooth, calculated like a predator.

The heated embers of his eyes were harrowing, annoyance dancing across his features. Two short horns were poking out from under the mess of curls.

The creature stalked forward in the circle, and Jason took a step back, but you couldn't move. You couldn't breathe.

"I was not summoned here for you. I don’t serve you."

His expression shifted as he towered over you. The beast of a man crouched down to your eye level. It took everything in you not to scream or lash out. But you were terrified.

He was deceptively handsome, and the shadows of his face were illuminated in the candlelight.

His eyes, blazing with hellfire, changed, just for a moment. If you blinked, you would have missed it, but you could have sworn those dark eyes were brown. That they were almost human. But it was gone in a flash. The weight of the situation you were in was harrowing.

"You're not supposed to be here."

The low rumble of his words was unexpected, and you looked up at him in shock. His words were gentle, his tone leveled.

His eyes narrowed, burning with something angry as he looked down at your palms. You were clutching them both to your chest. The dark cloth of your dress and exposed skin bloomed red.

You were trembling.

He reached out slowly, tugging your hands away from your body before looking at the slashes welling with blood. You were too frightened to move as his eyes swept back to yours.

"They hurt you."

With his other hand, s sharp claw cut the bindings on your arms and legs. It was like he was cutting through butter instead of layers of tape. You watched in amazement as he pulled the tape back from your lips. The shuddering breath you took didn’t deter him.

The man's focus returned to your bloody palms, cupping his hands under yours like a bowl. His hands were warm, his touch slowly dissolving the tension in your shoulders.

"They tricked me," You whispered blindly.

Your focus shifted, fixated on the feeling of his warm hands in yours. Hot, angry tears rolled down your cheeks. You watched as your blood bled between your fingers onto his and down to the ground. A low sound at the back of the creature’s throat pulled your eyes back to his.

It was frustrating. If you thought about it for a moment longer, you would have realized the sound of it was needy, longing even.

“What the hell is going on?” You heard Jason curse from outside the circle, making you wince.

The creature looked at you, his eyes narrowing.

"Oh, sweetheart," His voice was tender, apologetic. Clawed fingers trailed up and over the side of your face. His eyes danced across yours.

You could have sworn you were in a trance.

For a moment, the pentagram and the men outside the circle disappeared. You let all thoughts fade away, looking at the man in front of you. And you just looked at him, scanning the curve of his eyebrows down to the cupid's bow of his lips. He was so stunningly familiar. God, he was beautiful.

"Close your eyes." He instructed, and at your hesitance, he leaned in. His clawed hand cradled your chin, and you watched his eyes soften for the second time, umber pools staring back at you. He smelled of earth and iron. “I will not forsake you.”

His tone was your undoing.

With another long moment of looking at him, you followed his instructions and closed your eyes. He hummed in approval as you felt his touch fall away.

There was a sudden crack, like lightning, in the air. You could smell metal, the heat of it fanning your face. But you kept your eyes closed.

You were steadfast even when the sound of shocked screams and pleas came from Jason and his band of goons. And then there was a thunderous noise of thousands of wings flapping around. A low-clicking noise surrounded you. Bats were swarming the skies. The sounds of carnage tore at your senses. Your lip quivered before you could control yourself.

And all too soon, it was quiet.

Fear gripped your heart, and you were compelled to call out.

“Ad – Abm –” You started but stumbled. You didn’t remember his name. There was a gentle sound of footsteps crunching on leaves before you heard him come back to you.

“I’m right here,” His voice was darker but still controlled. “Don’t call me that name, angel.”

You opened your eyes at the endearment. What was staring back at you was almost human.

You were right. His eyes were brown with the slightest glow, and Jason was gone as you looked around the circle. They were all gone. And his attention was solely on you.

“Your blood,” He urged, pulling your attention back to your hands. “Sweetheart, we need to stop the bleeding.”

You nodded blindly. God, when did your hands start shaking?

He took your left hand and turned it over, dragging his thumb along the incision.

The wound closed before your eyes, leaving behind a raised, thin scar. You let out a breath of relief. Rivulets of your blood stained his hands, but he didn’t care.

The man hesitated when he dropped your hand and moved to the other. You looked up at him carefully.

“You called for me,” His words were heavy, and the air around you was charged with electricity. When you looked up at him, his face was set with the hint of a smile. "I've waited lifetimes for you."

Your heart was hammering in your chest.

You tried to stutter out an apology, that it was all a big mistake, but the shake of his head silenced you. His intentions were set.

"You bled for me," He raised his other hand and sliced into his own palm with a clawed index finger. "And I will bleed for you.”

Thick, dark ichor pooled against his skin. It wasn't natural. You closed your fist instinctively.

"But, why?" You dared to ask. "Why would you do that?"

The look he gave you turned into a boyish grin.

"Because you called for me. I'm bound to you," His eyes were tormenting. "You didn't think I'd go away so easily, did you? If you don't like the sun, I'll make it rain for you. I'll fix all your broken things. I'll keep you nice and close. I'll keep you safe. Don't send me away, angel."

The lilt of his voice was hypnotic.

You weren't sure you could turn him away. You didn't know if you even wanted to. He saved you.

As you listened, your heart ached. You wanted that. You wanted to believe him.

"I'm already bound." He tried again, inching closer.

His plea was so soft, so tender. At the call of your name, your breath hitched, looking up at those big brown eyes. He was looking down at you expectantly.

"Take my hand. Don't make me beg."

He was down on his knees in front of you, his face shrouded in shadows and candlelight. He wasn't the monster you thought him to be.

"Who are you?" You asked in a whisper.

You pushed yourself up to your knees, meeting his eye level.

"Just call me Eddie, sweetheart." He grinned, holding his palm up to you. "Please, take my hand. And I'll explain everything."

You weren't sure if it was the compelling look in his eyes or the softness of his words, but how could you say no?

He saved you. Eddie saved you from the monsters in the woods.

You took his hand without looking away from his eyes, feeling the heat and strength in his hold. You swore you could feel the inky ichor as it mixed with your blood into the cut.

And the way Eddie's eyes lit up? It was like you had hung all the stars in the sky.

But it was too much. The heat in your veins was all-encompassing. You could feel the nerves in your body going haywire.

Eddie’s toothy grin was the last thing you saw before your eyes fluttered shut. He pulled you close before you could fall, sinking into his embrace.

There was a new excitement in his eyes. The candlelight flickered, more intense than it had ever been before.

He was already bound to you. But what he didn't tell you was that you were willingly binding yourself to him. Eddie wasn't worried; he'd have forever to find a way to tell you.

Back to Hellfire Haunts.

#hellfire haunts #demon!eddie #demon!eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female!reader #eddie munson imagine #demon x reader

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cookii-moon · 2 months

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Ranking the ninja by their hair.

because.. I don’t know the idea came to me. So. We’re going from the worst of the worst to the absolute best. And you all have to suffer through it :). Kai fans I’m sorry but also kinda not.

#6. Kai.

Greasy. Gross. Unkempt. Splitting. Dying slowly. If it’s not greasy it’s dry and coarse. The only thing keeping it even mildly acceptable in the eyes of society is his overuse of hair products that he isn’t even using properly which results in his hair continuing to die on his scalp despite the lazy attempt to hide how miserable it is. Please for the sake of all that is holy in this world fix your hair Kai please. The ninja beg daily. The Kai does not listen.

#5. Zane.

He has no hair technically speaking since he’s a Nindroid thus making him hard to rank since we don’t really know what his hair is made of, but it’s still never going to be worse than Kai’s so I’m putting him here as it’s a safe spot.

#4. Lloyd.

Generally as a kid he couldn’t care less for self care. He’d often avoid doing it purely to spite anyone who told him to brush his hair or to take a shower, regardless of if it were a teacher or kid at Darkleys or one of the Ninja when they were babysitting him. How dare they make him take care of himself!

Of course, eventually the Ninja started doing it instead. Which has… 50/50 results. At first he just kept his bowl cut because he thought it was the coolest thing ever, so Nya would help him take care of it.

When the Tomorrows tea hit, he decided to try something new, so he tried to style it after Garmadon’s hair, hence his hairstyle being shorter. Of course, Kai was the first to help him fix his hair. And… Well… Kai. It wasn’t… good… so eventually the others all started competing instead. Lloyd still wouldn’t take care of it himself because he can’t be bothered to and can’t get into the habit, so it usually fell to the others to do so.

Eventually Cole taught him how to do his hair well and gave him advice (some of which was literally ignore whatever Kai says) so he can do it himself now!! Though, during bad days or when he’s feeling under the weather he still tends to forget.

#3. Jay.

Jay actually has pretty good hair, despite living in a junkyard. His hair has always been naturally poofy (due to his dormant lightning powers) which he liked as a kid, but it got on his nerves as a teenager, so he’d try to flatten it down a lot with hair products and what not. He always used a lot of good self-care routines and regularly brushed, so his hair was extremely soft. He dislikes having sand and dust in it so he takes good care of it.

After growing closer to his lightning powers though, his hair started fizzling and poofing up and going haywire again, except the constant charge he was exerting meant it just. Couldn’t be contained regardless what he tried. So he settled for this. He still tries to take good care of it but it’s generally much more difficult to brush/comb, so he has a harder time now.

Despite all his difficulties with his frizzly hair, Nya loves it, so he can make an attempt for her <3

#2. Nya.

While Nya at first having grown up in a pretty poor village and with little money together with Kai never really had the resources to really take good care of her hair (or herself for that matter), she always sort of cared for how it felt. She doesn’t like when it’s coarse or anything so she had a handmade comb that she always used to at least get tangles out and smoothen it a bit, though she also kept her hair pretty short since it was difficult. To take care of anything longer than shoulder length with the resources they had.

When she started taking up jobs after joining the ninja and earning her own money, she used some of it to do things she never was able to before like get a hair brush and hair products, buy new clothes for herself, and even get a hairdresser appointment. Nya doesn’t really care for her looks in general, but she does enjoy wearing things she likes and having clean hair annd stuff, so ever since experiencing a hairdresser appointment she has never looked back. She started doing different styles and bought scrunchies and asked for tips on what hair products to use, the whole bunch. She’s been trying to convince Kai to at least learn a bit about hair care as well, but he insists he doesn’t need any help. Unfortunately.

The only reason she’s second is because while she does just genuinely like the feeling of having well kept hair, she can and will skip days if she’s having a bad day or if she’s just. Kind of out of it. She’s not the type to care too much if she ignores it every now and then since her habit of it is just based off of what she finds comfortable so if her comfort and brushing hair is at odds she just won’t do it.

#1. Cole.

I refuse to elaborate, you get no explanation.

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treedaddymcpuffpuff · 3 days

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Excessive Force : Tom Ludlow x Fem Nurse Reader (COLLAB W/ THE INCREDIBLE @johnwickb1tsch) - Chapter One Two Three Four Five Six

TW: violence, choking, mentions of bdsm, abuse of authority, cops, unfair power dynamics, harassment, body fluids and drug use mentions, mentions of harm/accidents

For California, it’s a bit chilly out this morning. The sun is getting a lazy late start, just beginning to yawn golden orange and fiery yellow over the horizon. Julian’s hair in that light is the high shine of fashion magazine model locs, and you’re, as usual, opening your mouth before you think. “What shampoo and conditioner do you use?”

He seems thoroughly amused. “Honestly? You’re going to be mad about it.”

“Try me,” you prod, slipping inside his little sports car that smells like lemon air freshener and coffee.

He seems a little cramped in the seat, knees bent up and head almost touching the ceiling, and you wonder if he actually even tried to get into this thing before buying it.

“It’s a rental,” he explains.

“Did you get into an accident?”

“A truck hit mine while it was parked.”

“How are you so calm about that? I’d punch someone.”

He looks over at you with a sculpted, raised brow. “I just cannot imagine you hurting a fly, y/n.”

“Flies are innocent, truck drivers are free game.”

He gives you a big laugh that strokes the flame of your ego. “You’re hilarious. I use men’s body wash.”

“What?” Okay, he’s right, you are a little mad. You use shampoo and conditioner that are specifically supposed to soften your hair, but the poof on your head absolutely pales in comparison to his soft, beautiful mane that gets the luxury of â€¦ what? Old spice? Axe body wash?

“I told you,” he sings, turning on the engine.

Genetics is a bitch.

He takes you to a fancy little French inspired coffee shop cuddled into the center of an outlet mall with salt lamps and big ferns and comfy chairs. You settle into a nook closests to the sunned windows so Julian can keep an eye on his rental, which is understandable. No part of LA is good to have a Porsche in, but especially not the inner city.

“This is delicious,” you tell him through a mouthful of warm croissant, covering your lips in embarrassment when you realize that your table manners are less than adequately prepared for a date with a doctor.

“They have the best coffee,” he agrees, taking a sip of his steaming latte.

You don’t have time to stop your brain from comparing Julian to a certain cop you know who prefers his coffee black and bitter, or at least that’s what he told you when he saw you drinking your vanilla cream cold foam at the nurse’s station.

Julian is talking, you think, and you’re only half listening while you remember how Tom had snatched that drink right out of your hands and held it up in the air.

“Give it back!” You hissed, reaching up on tiptoes while he laughed at the pathetic rescue attempt.

“Careful, honey, don’t hurt yourself for this pathetic excuse of caffeine. What is it anyway? Is there even coffee in here?”

After he walked away with his discharge paperwork, your coworkers were understandably curious about the tall, puckish cop who fucked with you any chance he got.

Miguel watched his ass move the whole way down the hallway and out the glass exit doors while literally clutching the rosary under his scrub shirt as if a devil had just walked by, then looked over at you. “What a man.”

“Are you alright?” Julian asks, bringing you back to the present conversation with a hand over your forearm. He does seem concerned, and it makes you feel like a piece of shit. This guy is a gentleman and here you are on a date with him fantasizing about the brute that is Tom Ludlow.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You wave away his concern. “Tell me about you, Julian. What do you do for fun? Doctor-by-night, Violin-player-by-morning?

He chuckles. “Nothing that cultured. I like riding motorcycles.”

“Really?” You ask, genuinely surprised and trying to imagine Julian in a gang of bikers with cracked leather skull and snake jackets.

“I love them.” He nods. “I have three that I take for long rides along the coast. You get lost in it, the wind and salt and sand. The rumble of the engine under you.”

“I’ve never been on one,” you tell him, “and I’m honestly surprised you ride them after what we see in the ER. Don’t you remember that guy that had his calf hanging on by a tendon? Or that woman who had half her face missing?”

“Yes, I do. But I go the speed limit and wear the proper gear. And I like the thrill.”

It’s not just the casual t-shirt and worn jeans or the way the light halos his thick silk nest of hair or the roguish grin that makes you see Julian in an entirely new way, now. “You’re wild, Dr. Mercer.”

He licks spilled cream at the ridge of his coffee cup, rubs at the skin of your forearm with his fingers, and winks. You wonder what he would look like between your legs doing the same thing, except with your fingers gripping that luscious hair.

“You should let me take you for a ride, sometime,” he suggests, and for a minute you forget you’re talking about motorcycles.

“Oh, I don’t know, Julian.”

“C’mon.” He nudges your knee under the table and relaxes back into his seat, now reminding you too much of someone else you know. Same height, same hair color, same facial structure.

Fuck. Really?

“Good boyfriends take their girlfriends on long, romantic motorcycle rides.”

“But you’re not my boyfriend.”

His smile droops a little bit and it makes you feel bad for being so illiterately ignorant. Well, you feel bad until he opens his mouth. “I am, though.”

He paints it playful, but it sounds a little bit pushy-bossy, even. “I don’t know about that, either, Julian.”

He tries a different angle. “You know, believe it or not, most women would consider me quite the catch.”

You hope your face doesn’t betray the little bit of ick you get from him saying something so egotistical. “I don’t doubt it, and you deserve someone that can give you what you’re looking for.”

“You think you can’t give me what I’m looking for?” He leans across the table in sudden intensity, and you balk at the notion.

“No, I honestly don’t.”

“Why?”

You start to say something, but he cuts you off. “And, I really mean why? Why can’t you give me what I’m looking for? Enlighten me.”

“I’m not-I have too much baggage.” You unconsciously lean away from his swelling intensity.

“That’s a little vague.” He frowns.

“I’m not normal, Julian. You seem like you would like normal women.” You cringe at the childish sentiment, but truly have no idea how to get the point across except for basically telling him that you’re a freak with a bad past and worse coping mechanisms. You eat slices of bread for dinner and drink out of the milk carton. Julian probably irons his shirts. This will not work.

“You’re assuming I’m normal?”

“Yes. I guess I am.” You lean back and cross your arms over your chest.

“Well, I’m not. In fact, I’ll prove it to you.” He takes out his wallet, pulls a laminated card from it, and slides it over the table to you.

“What..” It’s a little red card framed in black with big bold letters on the front advertising a BDSM club in the heart of downtown Venice. “What is this?”

“BDSM is bondage, domination-“

“I know what that is,” you interrupt. “I just meant.. You go here?”

“I do.” He nods and takes a drink. “I occasionally engage in scenes.”

You decide that you should coat your suddenly very dry mouth and drink a big gulp of your coffee. “Like with a dominatrix?”

He laughs at you, puts his head in his hand and shakes his head. “No. I prefer to be the dominant one.”

You look at-really, really look at this man for the first time and honestly cannot imagine him taking that role.

He must see the confusion on your face, because his laughter grows. “That’s the usual reaction I get.”

Curiosity killed the cat. Curiosity killed the-you know what, fuck it.

“So, what do you do at the club?”

“A typical play scene, you mean?” How in the hell he can be so casual and relaxed about this you’re not sure. Because you can already feel the cold sweat breaking along your shoulders and neck.

“I guess? Yeah.”

“Well, ideally the woman is tied up in some fashion, and of course there’s a safe word, negotiated limits. Perhaps a punishment scenario with pain play. Are you okay?”

He looks at your table-clutching, white knuckled hands, searches your face, giving you a genuine concerned expression that makes you wonder what actually is going on with you right now. You feel like you're on a tightrope over a ravine of crocodiles and Julian’s on the other end lazily sawing at the rope with dull scissors.

“I’m fine,” you say breathily, suddenly unable to meet his eyes. “Honestly, I’m not sure how I feel about all that.”

His gentle smile is nothing less than kind, though maybe also, a little disappointed. “I get that a lot too.”

“Is that…the only way you enjoy sex?” you ask quietly, leery of the blue-haired old lady just two tables away.

“No,” he seems happy to tell you. “Though it is…the way I enjoy sex most.”

You blink, digesting this with understandable trepidation. He’s basically telling you that it would be impossible to be in a relationship with him without dipping into this eventually. And you…?

Are definitely intrigued, and you’re not really sure why.

“You said you have baggage,” Julien probes cautiously. You can feel him looking at you, but you’re not quite up to eye contact with him yet. You fix your gaze out the window. “Well, I do too. I haven’t had a perfect life. No one does, and I’m not interested in a perfect girlfriend. I like you, y/n.”

You feel your breath go out in an audible whoosh. It actually makes him smile-you feel it like rays of the sun. How can this man be so warm, and yet have such a dark side?

Well, maybe it’s not a dark side, you reason. Maybe it’s just…a thing he likes, and between consenting adults, what’s the harm?

“Soâ€¦” You can’t help but think about how odd this is, discussing this in this coffee shop filled with mild-mannered caffeine addicts. What you really want to ask, is what happened to him that makes him like this kind of sexual play, but you know it would be too far, and you damn well don’t feel like talking about your own fucked up past. But there is something you do feel you have a right to know. “Is this something you want to do to me?”

Again, he fixes you with that bad boy smirk that gives you chills and utterly ruins your panties. “Since the moment you stood up to me over that patient,” he admits. And maybe that should alarm you, that he wants to tie you up and hurt you for being defiant about something that deserved defiance. It does alarm you, but… It also… It sounds a little thrilling. “In fact-“

Julian and the rest of the world and even your own thoughts disappear when you meet a pair of familiar, sun tinted eyes out the window of the coffee shop. He’s grinning-when is he not grinning at you like he knows what it does to your helpless insides?-and licking his fingers, tearing off a yellow parking ticket to slap it under the windshield of Julian’s rental.

“Uh, Julian-“

“Just let me finish,” Julian insists. His bossy tone irritates you, but Tom brightens the mood by making a jerking off motion towards the doctor, and then winking at you.

You can’t help but laugh. It’s honestly involuntary, the loud wheeze that tears from your chest and makes Julian look outside to see the yellow ticket shining under his wiper as Ludlow’s ass saunters away.

You’re not sure what Julian’s plan is when he storms outside to catch Ludlow by the arm, but you’re definitely following ten strides behind to prevent his untimely death.

“I’m parked legally.” His voice is a menacing growl instead of the smooth honey you’re used to, and yeah, maybe now you can see a little bit of that Dominant Persona he was talking about.

“Not after 9AM,” Tom says, unbothered by Julian’s anger, still grinning like an idiot.

“It’s eight-thirty,” Julian argues, tugging on Tom’s sleeve-that earns him a bent back arm and even the appearance of handcuffs.

“Tom, stop it, fucking really?”

“Sorry, honey, your boyfriend’s going to jail.”

“For what?!” You and Julian both demand at once.

“Putting his pristine fucking hands on what’s mine.” Tom tugs Julian up on his toes and clicks one handcuff into place.

You hope he means his uniform, but you have a feeling he doesn’t.

“That’s way too tight and you know it,” Julian grunts.

“What, someone likes to dish it out but can’t take it? Don’t be a bitch,” Tom muses, grabbing Julian’s other arm and twisting it-not gently-behind his back.

“Tom, you fucking dickhead.”

He looks at you as he’s putting the other cuff on your date. “Oh, I’ll deal with you later.” His grin looks more like a snarl at this point, and you think that Julian could probably take some pretty good Dom pointers from Tom, because your heart is galloping and your clit is pulsing despite the absolute absurdity of the situation. Also-it's a miracle-your sassing mouth has snapped shut.

After Officer Ludlow practically throws Dr. Mercer into the back of his Charger, slamming the door, he turns to you with a smirk and his thumb in his belt. Goddammit, if that fucking look doesn’t go straight to your lady parts.

“Tom…you cannot do this.”

A tow truck has pulled up, and is in process of impounding the sweet little Porsche.

He steps up to you in those big black boots that make him a mile tall.

“You’d be surprised what I can and cannot do, sweetheart.”

“Please.” You hate how desperate you know you sound.

He taps his chin. “Well, I do like the sound of that. But it would be a lot more convincing if you got on your knees and said it.”

“You asshole,” you seethe, even as you can feel the moisture pooling between your legs.

“That kinda language definitely isn’t going to get Doctor Bitch Boy out of my car.”

“What the fuck do you want then?” You know it was a stupid question the moment it flies from your mouth. He’s going to reply with something filthy, and demeaning, and-

“Have dinner with me.”

You’re going to need another tow truck just to get your jaw up off the ground.

“You’re going to get in trouble for this,” you say. “This isn’t harassing a lowly broke-ass nurse. He is going to sue the shit out of you.”

Tom just snorts at that, unimpressed. “Did you know your friend likes to hang out at a BDSM club in Venice Beach? Whips and chains and shit? Bet this asshole has mommy issues from here to Pasadena. Come on, y/n, you don’t need that in your life.”

It almost sounds like he’s…worried about you?

Officer Ludlow has no idea how badly he’s misjudged you, now that he’s pissed you off. “Maybe I like it,” you snipe back, stretching up so you’re almost in his face. “Fact is, it’s none of your fucking business.”

Ludlow just narrows his eyes down at you, those dark orbs glinting like sharp obsidian. “Well, sorry, guess he’s not tying you up tonight, baby. He’s gotta cool down in the tank.”

He makes to go, but you reach out, not grabbing him, per se, but just touching his chest. He freezes, and you can practically feel him vibrating beneath your hand. With excitement, because he fucking lives for being an asshole, or…you hate to think you know the real answer.

His mitt of a hand covers yours, holding it just above his heart.

“Tom….” Caught up in this tension between you, you’re not even sure what you’re asking now.

You expect him to say something dirty, or snide, but instead you swear that just for a moment, his gaze softens as he looks down at you. “Dinner?” he asks again, with a note of hope in his voice that is almost endearing, if he wasn’t being such a class A jerk.

“I can’t.”

His demeanor changes in less than a second, drawing up to his full height, his shoulders squared. He flicks down his sunglasses that were on his head, so you can no longer even see his eyes. His voice changes, drops an octave, something. The authority in it makes you shudder inside. “Wave to Dr. Bitch Boy, y/n, we’re going for a little ride.”

Before you can grab him, or do anything, really, Tom is behind the wheel, speeding off with a very pissed off Julian in the back seat.

Your heart drops to your feet as you are left standing there alone on the sidewalk without a ride, and completely at a loss as to what to do.

***

“I’m going to fucking sue you,” Julian grits, kicking the back of Tom’s seat for good measure.

“Yeah, yeah, with your doctor money,” Tom grumbles, taking a big swig of coffee with one hand and steering recklessly with the other because it’s fun to watch that skinny fuck bounce around helplessly in the seat.

“I’m not getting booked tonight, Officer Ludlow. I’m calling my fucking lawyer.”

“Sorry, Doctor Bitch, your Lawyer’s busy until tomorrow afternoon, didn’t you hear?”

“You son of a-“

Tom gasses the car over a big pothole and it sends Julian flying into the opposite door. It’s a sight he could almost get off to.

Julian, big goose egg swelling up on his temple, gets yanked out of the squad car and tossed on the shit smeared, needle peppered streets of South Central. “They probably need you here more than the hospital, Doctor. Have funâ€“”

“Wait! Fuck. I’m still cuffed for fuck’s sake!” Tom gives the little guy credit for being able to get up on his feet so fast with his hands behind his back and a probable minor concussion. “You can’t leave me here.”

Tom pauses with his hand on the lip of the hot car door, but only to memorize the sight of a sweat-stained, wild eyed, trembling distinguished doctor about to get his shit wrecked on the mean LA Streets. He’s guessing Julian’s never visited much outside of Hollywood, Venice, and Santa Monica, and the cute little horrified expression on his face is testament to that.

Tom taps the hood of his car. “See ya, Doc.”

“You know,” Julian says, “this isn’t going to stop me from seeing her, Tom.”

Well, if he wants a fight.

Tom slams the charger door, whips off his belt, backs Julian up until he falls on his ass into a steaming puddle of unknown origin, and loops the leather around his neck.

He tugs him up by the belt, onto his toes, eliminating that fraction of height difference just so he can see the whites of this prick’s eyes.

He doubles the wrap of the belt in his fist, and Julian sputters something unintelligible through a thick choke.

“What’s wrong? Thought you liked this shit?” Tom pretends to wait for an answer that he prevents. “Oh, that’s right, you like being the one doing the choking. That gets your dick wet, huh? Beating on women?”

He wants nothing more than to choke this fucker unconscious and leave him on the streets for the hepatitis rats to chew on his toes, and, fuck it, if he ends up passing out by the time Tom’s done saying his peace, then so be it.

“You can see her all you want, asshole. Take her on as many dates as you like. But if I see one fuckin’ bruise on her-one red mark on that pretty skin-I’m gonna make the rest of your short life very fucking unpleasant. Comprende?”

#tom ludlow x reader #tom ludlow #street kings #keanuverse fic #keanuverse

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skullaton · 11 months

Text

cold hands, warm hearts

Wally Darling / Gender Neutral Reader oneshot

Rating: G Genre: Fluff, friends to lovers Summary:

It's a chilly autumn evening and the neighbours are hosting their own fall festival! You decide to partake, enjoying the time with your friends. It just so happens that one of your friends is also your biggest crush.

Ao3 link: Here Welcome Home belongs to Clown a/n: It's autumn in the southern hemisphere, so I wanted to write a cute, fluffy one shot for the season! Enjoy!

Read Below ↓

Your boots crunch into the dry, crispy auburn leaves as you make your way through the small town of Home. It was this year's autumnal festival and you couldn’t wait to see what hijinks your friends planned!

The road was covered in an array of leaves, muting the already colour rich town in a blanket of yellows, reds, and browns. You marched up a hill, seeing the outline of the festival’s banners from a distance. You huffed, exerting yourself as you trekked, seeing your breath poof up in a cloud of smoke. The cold nipped at your bare fingertips, but you didn’t mind.

You can finally hear the commotion of your friends scrambling around and having fun. You tilt your head to read the banner - clearly in Howdy’s handwriting - ‘Home’s Fall Festival’. There were some elegantly painted designs, as well as some crudely decorated ones. It was definitely a whole town effort to make it.

“Don’t keep starin’! Come on in!”

You break out of your thoughts to look at the towering caterpillar who stood behind a food stall, beckoning you over with one of his long limbs. You happily skip over, grinning, “Hey, Howdy! Nice handwriting!”

“Oh, that thing?” He glanced up at the sign before waving dismissively, “Shucks, I write so often, it’s really nothin’.”

You chuckle, shaking your head. “If you say so, Mr. Pillar.”

He leaned forward on his elbows, looking down at you with big eyes, “Say, you reckon you want some food? We got hot popcorn, hot chocolate, hot dogs, hot peppers, you name it!”

Being around him was so amusing. He always made such amazing pitches. How does he keep having endless stock? And hot peppers ? Who’s ordering that?

You could only assume Barnaby.

“Maybe later!” You waved him off as you started to hop away.

He simply waved back, “Alright, I’ll be here if you change your mind!”

You went to see what your other friends were up to.

A crackling bonfire lit up the centre of the festival, its fiery warmth emanating throughout the tiny faire.

You could see Sally atop of a makeshift stage, playing out a dramatic scene from a play. Her monologues were emotive, filled with passion and drive. In this scene she was holding a plastic… skull?

Wait, was this Hamlet?

You decide not to question.

Julie sat next to Frank in the audience, arms linked as they watched in awe of the brilliant star’s performance.

Looking on, you can see Eddie and Poppy sitting at the arts and crafts tent. Eddie was gently trying to instruct how to make the perfect leaf wreath. But… Poppy would often glue her fingers together and cuss a little ‘Oh, feathers me!’

Eddie, as sweet as honey, would insist she was doing amazing.

Finally, you see Barnaby next to a wide oak barrel. A crudely painted sign stuck next to it, saying ‘Bobbin’ fer Applez.’

Then you see him. The perfect deep navy blue hair, the lazy smile and half lidded eyes of the guy you’ve totally been crushing on since you moved here.

Wally Darling.

He was casually picking up the crimson apples from the chilly water, all while flatly remarking, “See, I’m bobbing.”

Barnaby released a booming laugh, practically barking, “I’m gonna bob you on the head in a second!”

Wally just tilted his head, offering a confused smile.

The giant canine cracked his neck, positioning his hands on either side of the barrel’s opening. “Watch the professional at work!”

Then he dunked his head down into the frigid liquid, splashing it like a tidal wave onto the unsuspecting Wally. When he finally emerged, two whole apples were in his toothed maw.

Smug, he looked over the shorter man. Then his expression immediately dropped.

Wally stood, blank faced, the front of his puffer jacket absolutely drenched.

Barnaby popped the apples out, “Oh, shoot, Walls! Didn’t mean for this to be a Wet n Wild ride! I’ll be back!” He hurried his way off to Howdy’s stall, probably in hopes for something to help.

You took the opportunity to duck closer to Wally. “Looks like you’re having a splashing good time.”

You internally cringed at yourself. Damn that Barnaby!

“Ha ha. Ain’t it so?” Wally held his kind smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

You decided to unbutton your jean jacket.

“Tradesies!”

He gave a flat “Huh?”

You slid off the fabric, offering it to the shorter man. The chill bit at your skin, causing a ripple of goosebumps to run up and down your body.

He blinked slowly. “You’ll get cold.”

You shivered, offering a sweet smile, “So will you!”

He reluctantly unzipped his jacket, tugging it off to replace it with yours.

It practically engulfed him. His fingers barely peeked out from the sleeves. You wish you could take a picture of him. He looked absolutely adorable.

You held onto his puffer in the crook of your arm, feeling the wetness seep into your bones.

Another chill ran up your spine, causing you to exhale another puff of smoke.

Then in a split second, a giant wool mass would plop over you, encasing you in a tent of darkness. Wiggling out of your wool chamber, you peeked out to see Barnaby grinning above you.

“Didn’t expect ya to switch with Wallers! You can’t catch a cold now, ya hear?”

You fixed the oversized blanket so it was slung over your shoulders. You stuck a tongue out to the giant canine. “I’ll be fine! ”

“Just wait! Your tongue will be frozen like that!”

“Will not!”

“Will too!”

“Will not!”

Wally popped in, copying Barnaby, “Will too!”

“Hey, you’re not supposed to side with him!”

He gave his signature cat-like grin in response.

***

It wasn’t long until night cloaked the town in darkness. Stars twinkled and danced overhead, with the moon showing half of its beautiful glowing face.

Everyone was gathered around the bonfire, enjoying the crackling warmth on this brisk night. Julie and Sally were playing with rainbow sparklers, twirling out a magical light display. Frank and Eddie sat cuddled next to each other, staring dreamily into the snapping wooden flames. Howdy was passing out hot apple cider, while Poppy was instructing Barnaby how to make the perfect roasted marshmallow.

That only left you and Wally, sitting next to each other on a wooden bench.

You sipped on the hot cider, allowing the toasty beverage to heat you up.

You both let the snaps and crackles of the logs fill in the silence, simply enjoying the sweet moment with friends.

That is, until you could hear a soft mumble leave the puppet’s felt lips.

“I wish I could paint you right now.”

Your heart skipped a beat. You glanced over to Wally, watching as the flames danced shadows across his face. It casted an orange hue, accentuating his soft, plush features.

A pink blush tinted your cheeks. You definitely wanted to blame it on the bonfire for licking at your exposed skin.

But you knew it was because this silly little artist was staring at you with this most love drunk expression. His adoration filled gaze made your stomach twist in happy knots.

You found yourself inching closer to him, your spare hand just barely brushing against his fabric one.

“I wouldn’t mind that.”

A blissful sigh escaped the man. He reciprocated the gesture, scooting closer. You could feel his knee bump against yours playfully.

It wasn’t long before you both tentatively laced your chilly fingers together, basking in the heat of eachother’s flesh.

“Maybe we should schedule something?”

“That sounds wonderful, Wally.”

A quietness lulled between you as you enjoyed the moment. Despite the silence, you could feel your limbs tingle with exhilaration as your tummy burst with millions of fluttering butterflies.

You may have cold hands, but at least your heart is full and warm.

#wally darling #wally darling / reader #wally darling x you #wally darling / you #wally darling x reader #welcome home #welcome home fanfic #writing #fluff #nom nom nom so cute

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piggycyberwarrior · 10 months

Text

TR- what it’s like to date Manjiro ‘Mikey’ Sano

Summary: what it’s like to date him!!

Requested: nooope..

warnings: none.. well i didnt proof read that shit ....

characters: Mikey

a/n: sorry for being offline for so long I had a tough time but i am backkkk. Make sure to drink enough water!!! love you all. Request are open btw XD

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

To be honest... Mikey is touch starved. that's a fact. He had lost so many people and meeting you was one of the best things that could have happened to him. You picked up his pieces over and over again and put them back together. Very carefully with a lot of love... and Dorayaki.

When he finally had the courage to tell you how he felt, he was so nervous... poor baby. He didn't want you to reject him because then he wouldn't be able to look you in the eye anymore. when you said that you like him too, he was so relieved. three words: bone crushing hugs.

Mike would make a great boyfriend. Sure, it's a little exhausting sometimes to see his people following you around on your lunch break and he always has someone checking up on you, but you know he's only doing it to protect you and with that in mind it's easier to be accompanied by gang members.

CUDDLES! I can't say it enough. Mikey kind of loves to touch you? (Definitely has a thing for thighs) so it's only understandable that he's always glued to you (I mean have you seen him with ken-chin???) it’s even worse with you. He's like a little kid. Always grinning and always wanting to hold your hand.

I think Mikey has nothing against PDA. He would kiss you in the middle of thousands of people or make out with you if he wanted to.(draken told him that if you were embarrassed about his actions, he should take that into account, so now he would hold back in public if you were uncomfortable with showing affection in puplic.

. Would definitely and I mean definitely! tackle you if you were careless... you'd just walk around the living room and poof! you'd be on the couch with an almost sleeping Mikey on top of you.

I think Mikey is someone who also likes to be held. So either he's lying on top of you with his face pressed into your chest and his hair wildly splayed over your nose so you have to hold back a sneeze or two. His arms wrapped tightly around your middle. Or he would like to lie on your lap and put your hand in his hair again and again when you stop playing with it.

would love it if you would ride his bike with him at night. It's always so quiet and peaceful at that time. just you, him and his bike.

also a huge fan of lazy make outs! when you just got up and see that gorgeous blonde boy looking at you and grinning lazy “good morning baby~” he hummed as his lips ghosted only an inch away from yours. You smiled happily “Morning bubs. Slept well?” you asked as you stared at his pretty lips. “Y’know I always sleep good when you’re with me” he smiled as he cupped your cheeks and pressed a tired kiss on your lips. “I love u” he whispered as he kissed you again. Your lips moving in sync with his. Matching his slow rythym and inviting his tounge as it licked your sugary lips. “I love you too, Darling” oh how he loved that nickname when you said it a little bit breathless like that.

If you have siblings (it doesn’t matter how old they are) he tries to get along with them. Playing princess with your little sister or playing video games with your brothers. Even joining the gambling night were your whole family attends. There he sees a new side of you. A simple game easily turns into war with you.

he enjoys seeing you living your best life. If you’re happy he is happy too. Anyway he expects you to accept his family too. And with family I mean emma and his gang. Escpecially draken... but that shouldn’t be a problem. You’re friends with ken-chin.

WILL call you things like “Y/n-chin” or “baby” even things like “Potato” or “doll”,”Mouse” and so on. I AM NOT EVEN KIDDING WHEN I SAY YOU THAT THIS! MAN! LOVES! AND I MEAN LOVES!!! WHEN YOU CALL HIM OLD FASHIONED OR DUMB NICKNAMES!!!!! hit that bish with things like “Darling”, “love” “bubs” “beloved” “cutie” “Pizza face” “Chippy” “gentleman” I could continue for HOURS.

“hey darling could you go grocery shopping with me?... I am buying you some dorayaki too” he hoped you would not see the blush adorning his face as he listened to your voice full of love for him

if someone EVER tried to mess with you ohohohoooo (they’re dead or beaten till they cant walk anymore :)

baby if you are insecure... i’m sorry but that boy won’t have a CLUEEE unless you directly tell him... he is just a precious baby that loves everything about you so he wouldn’t ever think about the fact that you dont like your body or something else about yourself. But if you were the one to tell him he would be SOOOOOOO supportive of you. always cheering you on when going to the gym or kissing every imperfection, scar or stretchmark (you are beautiful bubs, i love you) and telling you how much he loves you

#tokyo revengers image #tokyo revengers mikey x reader #tr images #tr headcanons #tokyo revengers headcanons #manjiro sano x reader #mikey x reader image #tokyo revengers manjiro sano x reader dating #tr x reader dating

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samuel-de-champagne-problems · 2 years

Text

The Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day (18+)

Summary: Spencer and Reader's schedules mean too many lonely nights and near misses. One bad day makes Reader realize just how much she misses and loves her boyfriend

CW: Spencer Reid x Fem (Doctor!)Reader (SMUT: Penetrative sex with condom, talk about birth control, kissing, fingering, tiny breeding kink)

Note: Ahhh I absolutely hate the title but whatevs. Also I know I fucked up the tenses. Let’s pretend grammar rules do not exist. I am no Emily Henry…..

Word Count: 3100

The worst day is always the worst day until, of course, another worse day comes along. Bad days, I’ve come to understand, are a lot like dominos. They fall one after another until the entire thing comes crumbling down. This week, the Monday domino came in the form of reports filed incorrectly. And the Tuesday and Wednesday dominos came in the form of an antsy four-year old that vomits violently and an elderly man with ‘bumps and lumps’ littered over his hairy back. At this point, I have to convince myself that I actually like the kind of doctor I am. But in reality, I’m totally jealous of my boyfriend’s more glamorous doctor honorifics.

As I walked up the staircase to our shared apartment, I’m reminded of a book I read as a kid. I would need at least two or three more hands to count how many times I’ve read Alexander and The Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day. I suppose that my younger self found some sort of comfort in the humor. I reached around in my backpack, searching for my house keys.

The apartment was silent. It’s that weird sort of time. It’s early enough, by his job’s standards, for Spencer to still be working. But it was also late enough for me to walk into the small bedroom and find Spencer passed out from lack of sleep.

“Hello,” I called. I kicked off my shoes, plopped my backpack on the floor and shed my coat. No one responds to me, making me think that Spencer’s still working.

Millions of thoughts ran through my mind. I thought about the unwashed laundry piling up in the basket. I thought about the yogurt in the refrigerator that’s well past its expiry date. And I thought about the last time I fell asleep in bed with Spencer by my side. We both knew this day would come. But, it seems, this day turned into weeks and those weeks turned into months. I would call him, tell him just how much I miss him, but I’m just too tired.

I hardly even remember how I got into the bedroom. It was like I was in the hallway, staring at the smiling, happy faces of Spencer and me in picture frames and now poof! I’m in the bedroom. The bed was unmade and messy. Books were practically oozing from the sides, battered copies of mass market paperbacks, ornate and decorative copies of books we’ve wasted half our paychecks on. I usually don’t like the mess and disorganization, but I was too tired to even care. Or I just found it utterly charming that this mess is a product of the person I love the most in the world.

I tried to focus on that. On how many books we haven’t read together. On all the lazy Sundays we’d spend snoozing in bed way past a respectable hour. On him coming home soon and slipping into bed and holding me close as we both finally…

***

“Y/N!”

The first thing I realized, even before I opened my eyes, is that I was wet. The second thing I realize me is that Spencer is yelling.

I opened my eyes, finally taking in my surroundings. I’m in the shower? After the shock of being awoken, I realized that I must have fallen asleep in the shower. My clothes are soaked and Spencer’s crouched down next to me.

“Spence,” I croaked. My voice is ladened with sleep, “Your socks are going to get wet. You’re going to get wet,”

“That’s what you’re worried about?” he said. He sounded a little annoyed, but maybe it’s more like bemusement. I’m too tired to decipher the tone of his voice right now, “God, I thought something bad happened to you. I need to check out your head, I want to make sure you didn’t fall,”

“I’m fine, I’m fine, Spencer,” I said, sitting up in the shower. He rolled his eyes, sitting up to get a better look at my head.

“Shh. Let me check you. I am a doctor, after all,” he said, a playful, yet tired smile toying at the corner of his mouth. I had to fight the sleepy urge to kiss all over his stupidly handsome face.

“You’re a fake doctor,” I muttered.

“Oh, hush,” Spencer chastised. He studied my head, finding nothing, he kisses me, “Let’s get you out of these wet clothes,”

Spencer helped me up and I pulled off my soaked shirt and damp jeans. I tossed them towards the Laundry Pile of Doom. We moved quietly, like one symbiotic machine moving together to the same goal. I’ve learned to appreciate the silence with Spencer. We’ve learned how to say a wordless I love yous and silent I’m here for yous.

“Let’s get to bed,” Spencer said. He held out a pair of pajama pants and a soft tee-shirt. I nodded, wordlessly thanking Spencer. I follow him into the bedroom, already playing the dreams in my head.

“I’ve missed you,” I told him, helping him make the messy bed before we crawl in. Since we’ve been together, Spencer’s learned that it’s impossible for me to sleep soundly in an unmade bed. I hate the feeling of the crinkled sheets under my legs, “Even though we saw each other yesterday,”

“I know,” Spencer whispered. He sits on the bed, watching me. I smile and scoot closer to him, “Are you going to tell me why I found you sleeping in the shower?”

“Spence,” I groaned. “I just had a really crappy day. I had to change five times today. There’s this kid, a literal demon-child, that has this awful case of food poisoning. I showered at the hospital before I got home, but I just thought a hot shower would relax my muscles or something. I don’t know. I guess I was just exhausted,”

“I’m sorry, baby,” Spencer said. He kissed my cheek chastely. I can get carried away very easily with Spencer, especially when we’re both drunk from lack of sleep, “That sounds really bad,”

“Oh god. Oh god,” I cringed. I plant my hands into my face in embarrassment, “I am so selfish. Spencer, how-? I’m such a selfish idiot,” I groaned.

Spencer’s face floods with confusion, “No, no you’re not. What are you talking-”

“Me! Spencer! Me, I’ve been complaining about getting puked on by a sick child and you’re out there….you’re out there almost dying. And I’m just. I’m just an idiot,” I lamented. I leaned over and kiss Spencer on his cheek, “I’m just an idiot. And you’re freaking hero,”

“You’re not an idiot, Y/N. You’re a doctor. I’m a fake doctor,” he teased. Spencer smiles, kissing my cheeks as my smile grows. Spencer’s laughter is contagious. It rattled across the room in a sound that’s pure joy. I wish I could bottle it up and keep it forever and ever.

“You’re a really hot fake doctor,” I whispered. I let him kiss all over my face and encouraged him with a tug of his hair as he leads down my neck, “Spencer,”

He answered me with a groan. I flipped the blankets off me and hook my legs around Spencer’s torso. I felt his body flush against mine, so I can feel everything. I can feel all the soft parts of him and especially the hard parts. His body fit perfectly against mine. Spencer deepened the kiss, pulling me in by my jaw. Hungry, Spencer whimpered into the kiss. I traveled my hands under his shirt, feeling the heat on his skin.

It’s like I could feel the room spin. My heart swelled inside my chest and it’s almost too much to bear. Spencer’s hands were eager as he touched me. It’s hard to remember that there was a time, not too long ago, that his touches were marked by trepidation. His touches are lazy, uncoordinated, but they are exactly what I want. Spencer is exactly what I want.

“I can’t get enough of you,” Spencer whispered into my ear. I felt my skin prickle at his confession, even if it’s something I know all too well already. “You’re just so…beautiful. So beautiful,”

I brushed my tongue along Spencer’s bottom lip. It’s soft and plump. He tasted like home. Kissing Spencer felt like home. I never liked when romance novels would try to convince readers that their boyfriend would taste like cinnamon or coconut, when in reality you’re lucky if he tastes like minty Listerine. But I could taste the toothpaste and Listerine on Spencer’s lips. I smelt our shared shampoo and body wash. I smelt the detergent we use to wash our clothes. I smelt him in the shirt I wear, the very shirt that he’s clawing off my body at the moment.

I could smell him, feel him, taste him all around me. And it all screams a single word with as a single syllable: home.

It’s all around me. All around us.

Home.

Spencer sighed. It’s the kind of sigh that’s full to the brim with contentment. He sighed as if he could kiss me and cradle me like this for the rest of our lives. I may be tired, but I’ll never be too tired to object to something like that.

“Hi,” I whispered. Spencer gave me this toothy grin that completely melts away my annoyance. The entire day, including the vomiting kid and the old man with the pusy back, just simply melted away.

“Hi,”

“I love you,” I told him. I stretched my neck to kiss Spencer’s forehead, “I love you so much. But I would really like you to finish what you started,”

“Patience is a virtue,” Spencer joked. “I’m going to take my time with you, sweet girl,” Spencer’s tongue flickers out from his lips. Wetting his lips, Spencer tosses his head forehead in a gesture that I’m left to assume is meant for me to take my shirt off. Usually, I would respond with some sort of snarky comment, but I’m either too tired or too eager to come up with something witty. So I, for once, oblige.

“God, I never will get tired of this,” Spencer huffed. He helped me with the shirt, tossing it on the floor, and threw his clothing with it. His hands, like magnets, cling to my chest. I hissed at the sensation of his cold hands against my warm skin. He rolled my nipple in between his thumb and index finger. I bit my lip at the feeling, I close my eyes, but not before I sneak a look at Spencer’s gleeful expression.

“Me too,”

I kisses him again, loving the feeling of his swollen lips against mine. For a moment, it’s like everything disappears. Spencer’s kisses make the world, all the bad things, melt away. I grind down in his lap, forcing our bodies to rut against each other.

“Y/N,” Spencer called out. His voice is a warning sign or a white flag being waved.

“God, please,” I cried into Spencer’s mouth. His smile burned into my jaw as he kisses downward. He left wet, sloppy kisses across my collarbone, sure to leave marks that will be well hidden under the privacy of clothes, “Spence-”

“Shhh,” Spencer hushed, “This is all about you, sweetheart. All for you,”

With a surprising amount of agility, Spencer maneuvered us so I lie on my back. He hovered above me, looking down at me like he’s gazing at something beautiful. I suppose I am beautiful, in Spencer’s mind, at least. It’s hard to feel beautiful sometimes, but when his mouth is on my mouth and his hands can’t get enough of me, it’s hard to think otherwise.

Actually, it’s hard to think at all.

Spencer slithered down to my waist. He grabbed my hand, pressing tiny kisses into my wrist. I thread my fingers through his hair, tugging him up to look at me in the eyes. A grin, that I’m inclined to describe as devilish, appears on his face. He’s so pretty and beautiful and all the words that describe something so immaculate that it numbs you.

We’ve turned this, disorganized bedroom that’s littered with battered books and dirty clothes and coffee mugs to some secret oasis. It’s magical. I’ve thought that couples that believed in sparks or whatever, were insufferable. But it’s magical. Spencer’s magic. I’m magic.

We’re magic.

Spencer’s fingers are certainly magic. With a wicked grin, Spencer’s fingers dug into my thigh. He separated my legs, giving me the slightest bit of pressure and friction. I rutted my hips towards his hands, downright delirious for any kind of contact.

I studied him. I carefully studied the curve of his nose, the sharpness of his jawline, the softness of his eyes. This is the man I’ve looked at, the man I’ve loved for so long. All those stolen glances, all those quick pecks and lazy hugs, all those times our fingers meet. All those touches and all the touches yet to come. I’m on fire for him, begging for his touch. I felt it build in my ribs and sear throughout my body.

“Hurry, Spence,” I chanted. His name is a sweet prayer on my lips.

Listening to me, finally, Spencer kissed me on my thighs. His tongue traveled finding exactly where I wanted him. His fingers, swift and nimble, circled across my body. I twisted my hands into his hair, cheering him on silently.

I felt a Spencer-shaped knot build in my belly. It spreads into my chest, like a white-hot wound that demands to be felt. His finger is buried inside of me, beckoning me closer and closer to the edge.

“Condom?” Spencer asked. I nodded, tossing my head to the nightstand. Frantically, I started to search, but stopped when I feel the pressure of Spencer’s hand on my arm, “I got it. Don’t worry,”

I smiled, grateful for him because at this point I hardly doubt I could see six inches in front of me, let alone into the drawer for a condom.

We’re overachievers. And over planners. Which makes us a perfect recipe for anxiety and an awful case of what’s the worst thing you can think of? game. Between my residency and Spencer’s never-ending work schedule, a baby would not be ideal. Maybe it will one day. One day when we’re not crashing into an unmade bed at 2AM after eating a tray of four day old, chilly lasagna and stale marshmallows.

“Thank you,” I whispered. Even if I know I don’t have to thank Spencer for it. He gets it. He always does.

“Of course,” he answers, struggling with the condom packet. I smiled and covered my hand over his, telling him I’m here. He handed it to me, but not before he grabbed my jaw to pull me into a kiss, “Of course, Y/N. One day, I’ll put a baby in you. One day, but for now–”

“–Practice,”

“Exactly,”

Swiftly, I ripped open the packet and help roll the condom on Spencer. He hissed at the sensation. Within seconds, I felt Spencer line himself up. And then I felt that familiar pressure and a deeply warm sensation in my belly.

I swallowed Spencer’s moan into my mouth. He smiled toothily into the kiss, clashing his teeth against my lips. The apartment, yet again, is silent for a moment. And then I heard Spencer’s guttal groan in my ear. His breath is hot against my ear, but it makes my skin chill. I clung to Spencer’s tee shirt, ready to rip it off him. He must have realized this because he sheds it, dropping it to where he tossed mine before.

“Spence–”

“I know, I know. You feel so good, Y/N. I missed this…you,” he cried out. He buried his head into my neck. Spencer’s high pitched whimper pierced in my ear as his fingers, deft and skilled, cast quick circles against my clit. That, coupled with the way he slid in and out of me, is enough to drive me crazy.

I hummed into Spencer’s hair, inhaling the smell of his shampoo– my shampoo. He’s beautiful and fragile like this, yet he’s strong and stoic. The mounting pressure grew inside of me as Spencer’s trusting became more less calculated. His fingers sped up, begging me with his motions and words to reach that edge with him, for him.

“Come on, Y/N,” he cried out, voice muffled by my neck. He kissed me softly, sweetly as we both unravel. I could grow addicted to the way he holds me close after this finishes. He kissed me, leaving no patch of skin or freckle or scar unkissed.

“God, you’re so perfect, Spencer,” I said. I brushed his hair from his forehead, licking my well-kissed lips with a smile.

He stayed inside of me still, both of us a combination of too lazy or too tired or too in love to care to move. I love it, though. I love the feeling of our bodies flush together. I love the feeling of him inside me, even when we’re still and unmoving. Eventually, we’ll separate.

Eventually.

“I really do love you, Y/N,” Spencer reminded me. He propped himself on his elbow and looks down at me.

Dimples.

I added that to the list of things I absolutely adore about Spencer Reid.

Hands. Hair. Cardigans. Smile.

“I know,” I replied with a cheeky sort of grin. “I love you more,”

“Impossible,” Spencer said. He sat up in bed, yawning. I stifled a yawn myself, even if it’s futile. I thought during it, I forgot just how tired I actually was. Now, we’re both beyond exhausted and covered in sweat and other various bodily fluids.

It’s totally sexier than it sounds.

Maybe a shower would be good. A shower with Spencer.

Like that totally won’t lead to more.

“Did you know that people who yawn after witnessing someone else yawn are shown to have a proclivity towards empathy. There’s even certain studies that suggest that yawning in front of someone displays an intense emotional connection,”

“Is that so,” I said. I tugged at Spencer’s neck, pulling him in for another kiss. You’d think that I’d grow numb or tired from kissing Spencer by now, but I doubt I ever will, “Is that your way of telling me you love me most?”

“Sure is,” Spencer responded. He offered a hand, leading me to what I hope is a hot shower and a very long night’s sleep.

“You have to promise me one thing,” I ordered as I stood, “No funny business in the shower,” I smiled, losing all credibility when I fell back into his arms.

“Sure,” Spencer said, “We’re too tired to do anything anyway,”

“I’m deliciously–no, deliriously happy,” I said, kissing him on the forehead one last time. I marvel about how this day– this week, started off as horrible and terrible and no good and very bad, but is ending up quite the opposite.

- TAGLIST -

@pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @reidslibrarybook @fightingdragonswithreid @sleepyspencer @fandomfriend33 @folkreid @muffin-cup @jswessie187 @doctorspenceryeet @alexrosex99 @reidslovely @shemarmooresfedora @xoxospencerreid @gspenc @ssa-uglywhore27 @alexxavicry @nomajdetective @spencerreidat3am @reidsacademia @fandomstuffff @foxy-eva @reidselle

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x fem reader #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader smut #criminal minds smut #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #my writing #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic

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browntownalley · 7 months

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We're Going on a Trip (Bonus to "Winner Takes All")

Wally found you huddled up in your study, tucked away from the cold after disappearing from Julie’s snowball fight.

After you called for him to come in, he carefully shuffled in, hung his things, and left his shoes by the door.

There you were, bundled up on the couch, a full cup of coco jacketing by your hands, watching the show host like he was a bug on the window- no thoughts going through your head. That is until he noticed your commitment to your perch and pouted:

“Without me?” Wally approached you and leaned forward on your lap. At first you didn’t say anything, even as an adoring smirk tugged at your mouth, but you quickly reached your limit with that face.

“Oh, c’mere, you.” You sat your cup up on the counter behind the couch and opened up your blanket, welcoming the stout snuggle buddy. Wally slipped in effortlessly. His bread hair– pompadour tickled your cheek, and you rested your head on the poof of navy blue. With a sigh you slid down against the arm of the sofa, hugging Wally against you. You could have fallen asleep like that if the show host would just keep still. His soft face rubbing against your chest and a stray hand playing with your collar bone was making things bubble up in your gut that wasn’t bubbling before.

When you went to ask what he was thinking about, all that came out was a soft lazy, distracted, “hgmmm,” His eyes shift up to yours hopefully, twinged with warmth.

“Do you mind if I venture a bit?” he finally asked, walking his fingers down your chest.

You chuckled softly at the wording, “Hmhm, only if I can come along,” yous miled at the show host and brought a finger up to traced his hairline, and down his cheek to lift his chin. Though he was caught off guard by it, Wally’s eyes quickly softened with understanding and he turned to kiss the palm of your hand before trailing kisses up your chest until his lips met yours.

You could feel Wally shivering just from you pulling his scarf loose and sliding it off his neck. His hands wandered under your shirt, while yours teased the brim of his pants. You both made soft, giddy noises through your kisses. Your legs became restless as Wally gently messaged your chest, caressing handfuls of your plush.

Clothes started to litter the floor as you ventured further, nipping at Wally’s bare neck, stroking the felt along his back, and listening to the song of excitement that his body gave off. You got his pants off first, eyeing familiar blood orange briefs, and basked in Wally’s awe as he watched you waggle out of your shorts with the blanket still hanging off your shoulders. You finally took Julie’s advice, squeezing one eye shut and chomping down on your lip. Wally covered his mouth with his hands, but it didn’t stop the snort from filtering through.

“Oh c’mon, that was sexy!” You broke out cackling yourself, falling forward to glomp the show host back into the blanket. It wasn’t long before you were making out and feeling around again.

Eventually, you found the sweet spot that made Wally tremble and mewl. You locked lips as petting quickly evolved into grinding, your bodies hot against each other, your breath puffing out of you like a train on a mission. Just as he whined your name and bit his fingers into your shoulders, you curled and spasmed as your brain turned to confetti. The room span for just a moment before everything relaxed at once and you settled down on over Wally’s chest with a hum.

Like a cat at a sunny window, you stretched out over him just as he was melting into the sofa with a dazed look. You only made an effort to reach one final peck to his cheek, feeling him smile tiredly as you did so before he returned the kiss to your forehead and rested his head on yours.

“What did you think of that?” he asked quietly.

You’re already on the road to another plane, but smile as you reply “That was a great venture.”

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

#part 5 #playfellowxxx #sexy times #soft and sweet #wally x reader #petting #wally darling x you #y/n #cuddling #cold day #wally darling #you #fanfiction #humor #I actually feel good and comfy about this one #normally I regret living as soon as I hit submit.

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ecoamerica · 20 days

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youtube

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

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heavenlyhandscribbles · 2 years

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Why do I keep thinking (of you)?

Eddie Munson x Male Reader Warnings: Mutual masturbation, drug usage, cursing, poorly written crush confessions because I'm lazy.

Summary: Y/N cliche gay denier + Eddie Munson high and horny = Mutual Masturbation

Word Count: 1.3k

A/N: Hi this is technically a kinktober prompt fulfillment, but let's ignore that i'm late and just enjoy.

The bitter smell of green filled the air in Eddie’s room as he and Y/N passed the bong, his eyes hazy and half-lidded as he looked at Eddie lighting the lighter, lifting the bowl as the smoke fluttered up the chamber. Watching as his chapped lips tucked into the bong to inhale, his eyes closed and soft and he imagined waking up to the same closed eyes and then he realized this weed was making him think shit he shouldn’t be thinking so he sat back and hummed to the music Eddie has put on. Eddie started humming too, exhaling as he did before muttering, “What else do you wanna do?”

All Y/N could think over and over was ‘You, You, You, You.’ And he realized maybe that was not a good answer so he responded instead with, “I don’t know, I’m kinda wanting to get off.”

Eddie shrugged, “Wanna just fucking get off here then? I got a nudey magazine.” He murmured, reaching under the bed and tossing it at him, “This strand’s meant to get ya horny anyways.”

He nodded. Shuddered. This felt like it was okay, but it still felt wrong. Felt bizarre. Like maybe he shouldn’t be saying yes and the reasonable answer, something he heard his father say, “Fucking a man will just make you a fucking sissy.”

He looked at him softly, “Uh sure, can I use your bathroom?”

“Nah just do it here, I kinda want to anyway.”

Y/N vividly remembers Tommy Hagan telling him something he and Steve used to do. Mutual masturbation was what he called it. He turned, “there’s this thing maybe we could do?”

Eddie glanced up at him, not judging. That didn’t feel right. He should be uncomfortable too, right? Eddie told him most of the rumors about him in the town were true, but he assumed that negated the rumor that he was a poof. He sat back, muttering slowly, “It’s called mutual masturbation, we uhm- get each other off.”

Eddie nodded, not put off. He almost looked.. Giddy. It didn’t exactly put Y/N off either. He sat back, his hands shifting as he looked at him with an almost confused gaze. First steps. Eddie was quick to shift the sweats he’d worn usually when Y/N came over to smoke, and on instinct Y/N looked away; shame.

Eddie reached out, glancing at him as he asked softly, “Can I?�� His hand hovered over his belt, waiting for him to give a go ahead. His chest.. Felt warm- almost tight at that. He nodded, “Yeah.” He shifted, providing access just for him. Eddie undid his belt with shocking ease, tugging on it to get it loosened and nimbly undoing the buttons on his jeans. Y/N remembers- somewhere in the back of his mind- that some fantasy of his played out too much like this. Nimble, thin fingers, calloused thumb pad, shiny rings, tugging at the button of his jeans, but he figures he can investigate that later, after this, after he goes home. Eddie was quick to tug his jeans down a bit, muttering lowly, “Uhm- do you want to do it ourselves or..”

“We can do each other.” Blurted, stupid stupid stupid. Looks needy now, like he is too eager, shouldn’t be acting like this because it will only hurt them both.

Eddie nodded, muttering teasingly, “Alright sailor, don’t get your panties in a wad.” He referenced his outfit from when he worked with Steve at scoops ahoy, flustering a bit, “Yeah well don’t cream your pants at the sight of my panties okay?”

Eddie shudders, and for one moment Y/N thinks he’s gone against his request and creamed his pants at the sight of Y/N’s thoroughly soaked boxers. His hands are deft to tug down his boxers, freeing him as he let out a low groan at the sudden cool air hitting his tip. He thinks maybe this is it. If he dies here he’s okay with that- because he’s finally gotten what he wanted and- oh.. He wanted this. He’s wanted this for months. He’s wanted this since he and Steve dragged a limp Eddie through the portal from hell. And he thinks maybe this was stupid because he might fall in love. But he realizes he probably already has. He shook his head out a bit, thoughts empty and going a little bit stupid and big eyed as Eddie began to tug at his cock, suddenly remembering what he was doing there. He was quick to deftly tug off Eddie’s boxers, the return of the favor. His hands weren’t comfortable so he held his palm up, muttering lightly, softly even, “Spit.”

Eddie’s eyes widened a bit, before he nodded, spitting into his palm as asked as Y/N shifted his hand down, using the saliva to lube up his cock as he pumped it eagerly, eliciting a groan from Eddie beside him. He could swear he tasted the airy breath of heaven on his tongue at the sound. It was lewd, and filthy, and fucking pleasuring, the sight of his throat bobbing up… he wanted to lick a stripe up that throat. So he did. A stripe, all the way up Eddie’s throat, his teeth digging into his jaw as he ended the sloppy trail up his pale flesh. Eddie paused, his body twitching as he bucked into his hand, his own quickening to help give him the pleasure he wanted to give Y/N. Y/N’s eyes softened, his other hand reaching up and across his body, gripping Eddie’s chin and… kissing him. Kissing him with fever, passion and adoration, and something else all together. And Eddie- Eddie kissed back. He kissed him back without any sort of readable doubt. And Y/N thinks that maybe this is it. This is what he wanted, forever. He wanted this late night, high and happy and a little bit tired. He let out a shallow groan, his cock twitching in Eddie’s hand and he’s pretty close to cumming. He quickened his own hand pausing when he heard Eddie’s soft voice, “Hey- fuck- I’m really close.”

Y/N nodded, agreement, as he murmured out, “I am too.” He groaned, his cock pushing up as he looked at him with a softened gaze. Eddie looked so good- almost happy as he continued pumping him, murmuring lowly against the air between Y/N and him, “gonna cum?” A quick nod and a low groan and that was it, his hips rolling as he came against Eddie’s tight fist and his own quickened hand filled with the same sticky mess that was in Eddie’s. A breath, a sigh and Eddie, reaching over for a tissue for them both before they settled back. Y/N sighed, his eyes closing as he murmured, “I- I think I like you?”

Eddie stiffened, glancing at him, “What?”

Shit. “I think I like you.”

“Oh. That’s convenient, I like you too.” He looked at him, smiling fondly as he leaned forward again, kissing him, and with a pass of breath, muttering out, “Wanna finish up with the bong?”

Eddie nods, and leaned into him, passing it over with a hazy hum, content and a softer feeling filling the room. Y/N turned to him fully, his eyes serious despite the puff of smoke spilling out from his nose, “Wait so uhm- what does this mean.”

“Do you want to be together?” Eddie asked and almost looked scared to hear the answer.

“Yes.” Y/N nodded, surely, “But I don’t think I know what to do or how this works.”

Eddie let out a barking laugh, his hair bouncing and framing his face as he chuckled, “I figured, that’s okay, I’m willing to help?”

Y/N offered a gentle nod and a soft spoken murmur, “Yeah- yeah I’d like that.”

Eddie grumbled, grabbing the bong from him with a scoff, “quit hogging just cause you’re all lovesick alright?”

REBLOGS AND COMMENTS MEAN THE WORLD

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson x male reader #smut #gay mlm #mlm #eddie munson #eddie munson x male reader smut #reader x eddie munson

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octarinecat · 4 months

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Lost poems pt2

Author notes: Oh no, I'm writing 3rd part. Send help. I'm a lazy little mouse and took a piece of poem from the game. No regrets, this is how I squeaks. Link to the masterlist. Part 3

“Fucking hells, no…” Tav mumbled, while throwing the contents of the backpack onto the ground. Her notebook got lost. Probably in the woods, when cambion frightened her by his sudden theatrical poof.

“What's wrong?” Gale approached her and placed hand on her shoulder. Then he crouched next to her.

“Nothing… nevermind. I lost something important. I won't find it anymore, that's why I'm angry.” She explained with hesitation.

Gale scanned with his eyes her stuff on the ground and said without hesitation. “The notebook?”

“How did you know?” She asked confused, then looked at him, frowning a little.

“Um… sometimes you were scribbling there? I can even say, you were doing that quite often. It's really important to you, isn't it?” Gale guessed, by looking at her with disapointed face.

It is definitely her most important thing in the backpack. “Pardon. It was.” She thought. Her poems lost forever, now probably happily decomposing in forest. Tav gave for Gale her “everything is fine” smile and get back to her "duties".

Now they were in the main street, right before entering gate to Baldur’s Gate city. They were looking around, searching for “Sharess Caress” where they should meet with Kith’rak Voss. Quick small talk with Mamzel and they started strolling in the building, “trying to” look like typical customers.

They were searching for Voss in every room, even the suspicious ones. They reached the highest floor and stand in front of the last door.

“Devil’s Den?” Karlach read inscription in front of the door out loud.

“I’m feeling the same. It's suspicious for me too.” Tav said quickly, reading her mind. But the she shrugged, pushed the door and went inside. Spacious room with… rose petals on the floor? Right, we are in the brothel after all.

Her eyesight turned from floor up to the room resident. A devil in devil's den. Tav stood up in front of him and crossed her arms on her chest. This time she wasn't surprised and is full of confidence, as hero should have be.

“I hold my breath for the sun to fall, For in the hot collapse of the day, I'm brought to you.

And… finally you are here.”

Cambion recited with a proud grin on his face. Like he was practicing it for a while.

Meanwhile Tav's knees buckled beneath her, and she blinked in disbelief. It was quote from her poem.

#baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #raphael x tav #bg3 fic #baldurs gate 3 fanfiction #raphael cambion #raphael

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seriouslysam8 · 11 months

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Brumous Sneak Peek!

Okay, first two hot takes.

This is unedited so there's that.

My weekend is amazingly busy this weekend. All fun stuff though. Nothing crazy. I will update on Sunday, but it's not going to be until LATE my time. Like, I'm talking at night.

Chapter Twenty-Eight: The Gaunt Family

“Harry!” Niamh said in an excited voice as she dug through her satchel. “I got my essay back! Look!”

She slapped the parchment down between them. Harry peered down at the parchment to see she had received an EE at the top of the paper with very minimal red marks throughout the essay. Niamh beamed at him.

“I’ve never gotten anything above an Acceptable from Snape!” Niamh explained as she pointed down to Snape’s cramped writing. “He even praised me! Look, it says, ‘Interesting and thorough explanation.’ I don’t think he’s ever said anything nice to me before!”

Harry smiled. “That’s great, Niamh. I’m glad I could help.”

“You were a lifesaver, Harry!” Niamh exclaimed, bouncing in her chair. “If you weren’t dating Ginny, I would kiss you!”

Harry stared at Niamh while Ginny chuckled next to him, her hand pressing on his thigh.

Gemma squinted, leaning forward to look at the parchment. “You don’t reckon he’s been replaced by a lookalike or something, do you?”

Demelza laughed. “It’s good analysis! He can’t even deny that. It’s a fucking joke that he only gave you an Exceeds. I mean, that was O worthy! I read it myself.”

“He’s a prick,” Ginny concluded. “It was O worthy.”

Harry couldn’t deny that. Snape had all but ignored Harry in class, knowing he couldn't humiliate him with questions any more since he was top of his year at Defense. Harry didn’t offer to participate, continuing his philosophy from Umbridge’s class to sit down and shut up during class. It had worked out marvelous so far.

“Oi, Harry, are you ready for tryouts on Saturday?” Demelza asked.

Harry glanced over at her. “The real question is, are you?”

Demelza laughed. “I’ll blow your bloody robes off and leave you naked on the pitch.”

Ginny let out a loud laugh, earning her several glares. Harry shifted in his chair.

“Oh, I guess I’ll have to sit and watch tryouts then,” Gemma said in a lazy tone, her lips curving. “Don’t let that get out, Demelza, or else I won’t get a good seat to the show.”

Niamh shot Demelza a look. “Demelza, Harry is for Ginny’s eyes only! You can’t just poof his clothes into existence!”

“I’m sorry I’m that good at Quidditch,” Demelza replied. “I’ve been doing drills for bloody years, waiting for this moment.”

“You do know that I have to pick who the best players are, right?” Harry explained.

While he liked Demelza and knew Ginny would love to play alongside her, he was captain. He couldn’t just pick friends or people he liked for the team. He had to pick the right people for the team.

Demelza waved him off. “Yes, I know, and I’m not worried about that. Ginny and Katie are shoe-ins. I’m confident that I could beat every other person who has already signed up for Chaser.”

“Your confidence astounds me, Dem,” Niamh commented, her brows tugging down. “Tell me, where do I get confidence like that? I want some. Even a fourth of the confidence you have! That’s all. Don’t be greedy, just share a tad.”

Demelza plucked something off her skin and blew it in Niamh direction. She caught, well, nothing before she thanked Demelza. Harry only sucked in a breath, turning his attention to Ginny.

“Hey, are you almost done for the night?” Harry asked in a soft voice.

Ginny shrugged. “Depends on what you had in mind.”

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babydaddyleorio · 2 years

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Hungover

genre: comedy/crack

pairings: reader x nanami

synopsis: Your big day is right around the corner, and you were beyond happy to finally tie the knot with your fiancee, Kento Nanami. As his best friend and best man, Gojo insisted on throwing Nanami a bachelor party before he gets married to you. Of course, chaos is bound to happen if Gojo is in charge of anything, though.

warning: adult situations, profanity, and grammatical errors!

and... this is a rip-off of the movie “The Hangover” if it wasn’t obvious lol sorry not sorry

final note: this story is very random and has been sitting in my drafts for the longest. I’m probably not going to continue this, and it's rushed because I was too lazy to edit lol. Anyways, enjoy the crack.

How could one bachelor party end up going so wrong?

Although Gojo was typically a lightweight when it came to the very mention of alcohol, he still never in a million years expected to become this shitfaced when downing the few drinks he did have last night. His head banged violently as if to constantly be beat like a drum, and his stomach bubbled with irritation as he twisted around in this small space he was enclosed in.

Gojo then retched back in abrupt confusion and slowly wiggled his butt in a side-to-side motion before a frown spread across his lips at how restricted his body felt.

And as Gojo’s palms curiously felt around the foreign walls that surrounded him, it dawned on him that he was no longer in his soft, cushioned bed– but instead sitting in something hard and uncomfortably narrow. His sore eyes slowly peeled open to reveal that he was sprawled in a bathtub, the water from its faucet slightly dripping onto his socks and the railing for the shower curtain sitting across his lap.

“What the hell?” He rasped as he struggled to sit upright, an ache traveling across his lower back as he slid against the tiled wall. However, the unsettling sound of what seemed to be a low growl caught his attention just before he could move an inch further. Gojo’s forehead scrunched in confusion at the sudden commotion before he slowly turned his head to the side, his blurry vision making the unclear figure beside him multiply into threes.

“Who… are you?” Gojo asked in a strained voice, but he was left with no reply. He languidly took his balled fists and rubbed his eyes to clear his foggy sight before blinking them open to see the person beside him.

Only, there wasn’t a person standing beside him.

No, what stood beside Gojo was none other than a Kangaroo.

Gojo squinted his eyes before drunkenly shaking his head.

“Nah, can’t be right.” He hiccuped as he shut his eyes once more, thinking that he should try again since he obviously still couldn’t see straight.

And after about 5 seconds, Gojo peeled them open again.

Just to see that the Kangaroo was still in the same spot he had left it.

Gojo’s eyebrows shot up in surprise as he cautiously stood up, the Kangaroo also lifting its arms in a predatory stance at how Gojo raised to his full height. Now Gojo was really regretting drinking as much as he did because his intoxication was making him hallucinate.

“Tuh, the Tequila must be fucking with me.” He sighed before gripping the bridge of his nose in irritation. He looked back up to see the Kangaroo still sneering at him and Gojo chuckled tiredly. He figured he should entertain this idea, you know, since he was still dreaming right now.

“You are seriously one ugly motherfucker.” Gojo suddenly snorted as he examined the oversized rodent in front of him, and the Kangaroo's eyes slowly narrowed into slits as if to understand Gojo’s insult.

“What, got a staring problem, little dude?” Gojo taunted before laughing at himself again, his cocky aurora resuming. His long legs stepped out of the bathtub, wobbling slightly on his balance before he stood face to face with the growling animal.

“Oh, pipe down.” Gojo scoffed before he flicked its nose. “You’re not even real. You’re in my mind.”

Gojo then made a poof sound and moved his hands as if to emulate an explosion beside his head.

Though, the Kangaroo merely snorted before quickly slapping Gojo across his face.

Gojo gasped loudly as his head flew to the side and he slowly squinted his eyes at how real it felt.

“Um… ow?” Gojo spoke while holding his cheek in disbelief. “That felt a little too real.”

Gojo suddenly stiffened before his gaze hesitantly trailed back towards the animal.

“Hold on a second,” Gojo’s eyes widened as if finally clicking pieces together. “Are you real?”

The Kangaroo nodded its head at Gojo’s question, a mischievous glint now present in its eyes.

“Oh, shit.”

Next thing you knew, Gojo was screaming at the top of his lungs as his body flew out of the bathroom, a result of being completely manhandled by the kangaroo.

Gojo sucked in a deep breath as his body collided into the back of the couch in the living room and he winced at the pain now erupting in his ribs. Normally he would’ve had his infinity on to protect himself, but he was way too out of it to get it activated in time in his defense.

“Hey, could you keep it down? I'm trying to sleep.” Getou yawned while peeking his head over the couch, his eyes still closed and slob crusted on the side of his mouth.

“Considering I just got assaulted by a fucking Kangeroo, no– I don’t think I will keep it down, Suguru.” Gojo hissed in response, causing Getou to knit his eyebrows together in confusion.

“The hell are you talking about? It’s too early for your nonsense, Satoru.” Getou groaned while sluggishly opening his eyes, but all his movements stilled completely once he saw the menacing animal glaring at him from the bathroom's doorway.

“Holy shit, that’s a Kangaroo.” Getou whispered now fully awake, eyes quickly darting towards Gojo. “Since when did we have a Kangaroo?”

“I don’t know where it came from, but it’s fucking evil, that’s for sure.” Gojo spat as he held his side, bitterness leaking from his tone.

The Kangaroo snarled before bucking at them, causing both Getou and Gojo to jump in their spot.

“What do we do?” Getou whispered frantically and Gojo pondered for a second before he snapped his fingers.

“I think I heard on National Geographic that his name is Joey, so maybe If we address it as that he won’t be as mad,” Gojo suggested, thinking that maybe being polite would help.

“You dumbass, his name isn’t Joey, that’s what they call their kids.” Getou rolled his eyes, wondering why he had even bothered asking Gojo in the first place.

“Oh,” Gojo frowned his lips before snorting disapprovingly. “Well, who came up with that?”

“Look, as long as we don't move or make a sound we should be fine. Anything can set him off.” Getou whispered in assurance and Gojo slowly nodded in agreement.

“Okay, I won’t make a peep.” Gojo said while folding his lips inward.

Their plan would’ve been solid, that was if the blare of a ringtone didn’t abruptly sound two seconds later.

The Kangaroo’s eyes shot open and he hopped after them, making Gojo and Getou scatter around the room while yelling in unison. The Kangeroo aggressively bounced after them with absolute murder on his mind.

“WHY IS IT SO VIOLENT?” Gojo screamed before he avoided a punch that it suddenly sent his way. “AND WHY IS IT ONLY AFTER ME?”

“I DON’T KNOW JUST OPEN THE DOOR. OPEN THE DOOOOORRRR! ” Getou’s scream was high-pitched as he jumped on the kitchen counter, grabbing the nearest spatula and waving it around to defend himself.

“Think fast!” Gojo shouted before throwing a pillow at the Kangaroo’s face, causing it to stagger backward. Gojo took this as an opportunity to run towards the front door and swing it open.

“Alright, you want a piece of me, huh, Joey? Well, bring it on, bitch!” Gojo waved a red solo cup that was beside him in the air, copying how he had seen the people on TV try to capture a bull's attention. The Kangaroo threw the pillow to the floor and turned to face Gojo, his beady eyes glaring daggers at him.

It was like a scene out of one of those western movies, where a tumbleweed fell between Gojo and the Kangaroo in the middle of their standoff. Gojo wiped the side of his mouth, and the Kangaroo thumped its foot before thundering towards the white-haired man. Gojo waited and just as it got close, Gojo stepped from in front of the door and the Kangaroo ran out into the hallway. Gojo immediately shut the door and put his back against the door while locking it, breathing in and out heavily before throwing his head back.

“What the hell did we do last night?” Gojo asked while out of breath, turning himself to face Getou. His best friend sighed while dropping his head, but before Getou could answer, they heard a loud bang come from the back room and then footsteps following suit.

“What’s with all the ruckus?” A deep voice called before sucking their teeth in annoyance. “You’re fuckin’ with my beauty sleep.”

Gojo and Getou’s heads turned to see a figure waltzing out of the master bedroom, but their eyes widened once they saw that the figure was also booty butt naked.

“Dammit Toji, put some clothes on!” Getou fussed while covering his eyes with a plate beside him and Gojo whistled lowly at the lethal weapon Toji possessed, and he wasn’t referring to his gun either.

Toji’s gaze lowered down to his exposed area before chuckling deeply to himself.

“My fault.”

Gojo smacked his hand against his forehead because of the pounding headache he still had. The hotel room was completely trashed and Gojo cringed at the damages he would surely have to pay for. Getou slowly eased off the counter he was standing on, scooting away from Toji in disgust as he passed him, and went to grab the phone to check who had called. But as soon as he picked it up, he froze once he saw the many notifications on the screen.

“Well, this is bad.”

Toji stuck his head out of the refrigerator he had just opened with a slice of bread now hanging out his mouth.

“What is?”

“There’s so many missed calls from y/n.” Getou stared at the screen before slowly looking up. That’s when he noticed that someone important was missing.

“Guys…where’s Nanami?”

Everyone in the room paused, those words seeming to snap all their memories back in place. They had come to Vegas for Nanami’s bachelor party, giving the stoic man a little surprise before his big day. Nanami’s wedding was in less than two days, and Gojo wanted him to go out with a bang before he would be tied down for the rest of his life. Though, he figured that he must’ve gotten a little carried away last night.

“Fuck,” Getou groaned out loud while dragging his hand down his face.

“Alright, okay– everyone just calm down,” Gojo stated, although he was inwardly panicking himself since the hotel room was empty of the blonde man. “Maybe he went to go get breakfast.”

“Breakfast isn’t open yet, plus this is his phone. He would never leave it behind.” Getou countered while shaking his head in protest.

“Is he anywhere in the back?” Gojo tried again, but Toji clicked his tongue.

“Didn’t see him when I came from the bedroom. And all the doors have been ripped from the hinges so it’s impossible not to notice anyone.” Toji commented and Gojo sighed since there were no traces of him in the bathroom either.

“Well check his phone, there might be something on it.” Gojo quipped, tapping his foot impatiently on the floor. Toji shrugged his shoulders before going back to fixing a sandwich. Luckily Nanami was too square to put a lock on, so Getou effortlessly scrolled to the camera roll to see the many pictures they took last night.

“Woah, this is insane,” Getou spoke once all the pictures were populated. There were pictures of them partying, and each one just seemed to get even worse the more he swiped.

“I see Nanami in some of these,” Getou commented the more he progressed, though he paused once he saw himself tonguing down an old lady, a look of horror now spreading across his face.

“Huh, never knew you were into Gilfs,” Gojo commented as he peeked over his shoulder and Getou sucked his teeth before hastily deleting the picture.

Yet the next picture they saw was of Choso drinking on the roof.

“Oh no… we forgot about Choso.” Gojo murmured in realization and luckily the roof he was on looked to be the Hotels. The three men all darted out the front door, well after they made Toji put on some pants, to go find Choso.

They ran up the escape exit stairs and burst through the door, and the harsh sunlight made them hiss painfully.

“Choso?” Gojo craned his neck as he pushed his sunglasses down, and Getou cupped his hands to his mouth as he continued to shout for him as well.

“Choso, where are you, man?” Getou yelled, eyes squinting in distress.

“Choso!” Toji sucked his teeth loudly while patting his knees enthusiastically. “Choso, here boy!”

Gojo and Getou immediately stopped and turned to face him.

“Toji, what the hell are you doing?”

Toji paused before looking at them as if it was the most obvious thing ever. “What does it look like– I’m calling Choso, duh.”

Gojo and Getou slowly turned their heads to look at each other before slowly turning back towards Toji.

“No… Choso, Nanami’s best man for the wedding.”

Toji raised an eyebrow.

“He drove with us here… remember?”

Toji raised his other eyebrow.

“Wait… so you mean to tell me that Choso isn’t a dog?” Toji asked in utter disbelief because this was news to him.

Gojo and Getou sighed loudly.

They weren't even going to start with Toji right now.

They ended up splitting up after that and after a few long minutes, luck seemed to fall on them.

“Hey guys, I think I found him!” Getou eagerly called over his shoulder. Choso had his body leaned against the cement door, his arms wrapped around his legs as he sat on the ground rocking himself backward and forward. The three men all stared at Choso with wide eyes before awkwardly clearing their throats.

“Hey, buddy… you alright?” Gojo cautiously asked as he slowly crouched down next to him.

“You guys… left me out here… all last night,” Choso muttered, hair stuck to his forehead and bottom lip trembling.

He truly looked traumatized.

“Jesus, he’s shaking like a stripper. The hell happened to him?” Toji squinted before chuckling lowly.

“Choso, we’re sorry we left you, okay? But we really need your help, right now. None of us can remember where Nanami is, so do you have any idea where he could be?”

Choso slowly shook his head. “No.”

“Great.” Getou breathed while dropping his head because they still didn’t have any leads. Toji stretched his muscles, honestly bored at where this was going. Though, Gojo noticed something under Toji’s tank top.

“Wait, did you get a new tattoo?” Gojo asked with squinted eyes.

Toji looked over his shoulder in confusion to see the tramp stamp that was now on his back.

“Must’ve got it last night.” He scoffed while tilting his head to see it better.

“Wait, what does it say? It could be a clue.” Getou perked up, thinking this could help them find their lost friend.

“It says… property of Monique.” Gojo read out loud before scrunching his face. “Who the hell is Monique?”

Toji furrowed his eyebrows and his gaze flickered to his finger. “Wait, is this a ring?”

“Don’t tell me you got married.” Gojo snorted jokingly before his face fell in realization once he realized everyone around paused with seriousness. Gojo rubbed the back of his neck before looking away. “Damn.”

“There’s a symbol on it.” Getou pointed out, ctrying to change the subject.

“I think I remember seeing that symbol in one of the pictures, it was on a building.” Gojo mused. Getou pulled out Nanami’s phone, pinching his fingers to zoom in to see the symbol that they were talking about.

“There it is!”

“Then let’s go, we need to find him today otherwise we’re screwed.”

The men jogged towards the door in haste, happy they finally got somewhere. Though, Gojo paused since something still felt off.

“I feel like we’re missing something.” Gojo hummed as his pace slowed.

Getou halted before looking around and then sucked his teeth in realization.

“We forgot Choso again.”

Getou and Gojo ran back to go get their traumatized friend, but Toji simply rolled his eyes at the two.

“Some people just don’t deserve pets,” Toji tsked, shaking his head and trailing lazily behind them.

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