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rowanswriting · 1 day

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ROOOOWWWWWWW

REQUESTS ARE OPEN YOU SAY???

Self indulgent because I’m that bitch.

Maybe shy/ditsy reader (cause I love her) who is like so innocent and quiet out in public and in private is the neediest horniest depraved little slut for her man (obvs can be gender neutral) with either Steve or Eddie, or steddie x reader whatever your heart desires.

I HOPE THIS ISNT A SHIT REQUEST ITS TWO AM AND IM TIRED

- hellfiremunsonn (Lillie) 🩷

Freak Like Me - E.M.

thank you so much for the request lovey! I hope this is everything you envisioned! @hellfiremunsonn ily! 🫶🏽

Word count- 1.3K

Warnings - pussy slapping, dirty talk, p in v sex, female masturbation (Eddie helps), Eddie teases you, if I miss something please tell me and I’ll be sure to add it here!

-feel free to reblog & interact it’s much appreciated thank you all for reading! I really hope you enjoy this! 18+ only!

“Where you going sugar?” Eddie’s husky voice says from behind you. One of his ringed hands coming up to grip on your shoulder. You feel your knees go weak, trying your best to remain standing as you look around at all his friends. They’re all watching you as you turn to look at Eddie. “Back to the van… if that’s okay, Sir.” You mumble out. A few of his friends chuckle as you hide your face, flushing from embarrassment. He nods, leaning forward and kissing your cheek softly before handing you the keys. “It’s all yours baby be there soon.” You listened as Eddie continued talking about some dnd campaign, the sound of his voice drowning out behind you.

He’d made a spectacle of you all night long, teasing you in front of everyone. He knew exactly what it did to you, you’d almost not agreed to come out tonight because you knew this would happen. Eddie loves teasing you, and his friends love it even more, watching you babble when he asks you a question because only a minute before he had said something incredibly dirty. The wide smirk on his face causes you to stutter as you squeeze your legs together, praying that no one will be able to see. They do. This time you decide not to stick around to hear the remarks they’d make.

You slowly open the door to his van, hopping up inside and slamming yourself back onto his seat. The uncomfortableness of your panties sticking to you is too much to handle, so you lift your hips, sliding them down your legs before throwing them in the back seat. All you can think of when you slip your fingers down to flip up your skirt is Eddie’s voice, the way he mocks you, laughs at you, the sweet nothings he’ll whisper to you once he has you all to himself. “Fuck.” You whimper out, your fingers lightly grazing against your clit.

You shuffle around a bit angling yourself so when Eddie opens the door he’ll have a perfect view of what belongs to him. To his friends, you’re shy and reserved, innocent even. Eddie knew the real truth about you and you were none of those things. Your eyes close as you get lost in the moment, you bite your lip hard enough that you’re sure it’ll bleed as you circle your fingers around your clit, the sensations running throughout your body as you moan quietly. “Please Eddie.” You cry out, sliding down against the passenger door.

“Well ain’t this a pretty picture.” Your eyes snap back open as a sick smile breaks out across your face. “Knew you wouldn’t keep me waiting long.” You say, giggling as Eddie climbs up into the drivers seat. He’s quick with the door, slamming it before turning to look back at you. Your fingers are still working over yourself, only going faster now that he’s watching. You go to stop but he grabs your wrist, guiding your hand down. “Oh please honey, don’t stop because of me. Let me see how desperate you are.”

You nod, your eyes half open from the pleasure as Eddie pushes two of your own fingers inside yourself. You groan at the feeling, it’s messy but you couldn’t love it more. The sounds of wet squelching and your moans fill up the van as Eddie’s eyes burn with lust. They’re latched onto where the both of you are moving together. “This is so good, but I really need you Ed’s please.” You beg. He shakes his head, holding your hand down, rocking your fingers in and out slowly. “I didn’t say you could stop babydoll.” He whispers as you buck your hips up, grabbing at his wrist with the hand that isn’t buried deep inside you.

Eddie leans back, sitting on his knees as he watches you. He pulls his hand away slowly and makes you do all the work as he palms himself lazily over his pants. “I wish they could see you now baby, absolutely pathetic and I haven’t even given you the real thing yet.” He says, your eyes threatening to roll back into your head as a loud moan rips its way from your throat. “Fuck. Please.” You whine, your heartbeat speeding up as the tight cord winding itself in your stomach threatens to break. A bead of sweat makes its way down the side of your face as you buck your hips up again, meeting the thrusts of your own fingers.

You sit up a little, your body trembling as you watch Eddie slowly unbuckle his belt. You trail your eyes up to his face where he’s biting his lip, his eyes staring into yours as you continue to pleasure yourself. He laughs a little when he sees tears on the corners of your eyes. “Aww darlin’ you’re so ready aren’t you? Go ahead, let me see you cum, give me a show baby.” It takes you no more than a small thrust of your fingers before you’re letting go. Your wetness spreads all over yourself and down onto Eddie’s seat as he watches. You can hear him talking you through it but the blood rushing behind your ears keeps you from hearing what he’s actually saying.

He gives you no time to recover, you hear something rush past you into the back of the van before Eddie’s on you like a wild animal. He slowly strokes himself a few times, rubbing the head of his cock right against your clit as you squirm underneath him crying and begging for him to fuck you already. He stops teasing only to reach down and slap your pussy, once, twice, three times. You yelp and just as you go to sit up to scold him he thrusts into you, practically knocking the wind out of your lungs. “Y’gonna scream for me sugar? Let all my friends hear how much of a slut you really are for me?”

“F-uckkk Eddie please!” You scream out, the slapping of Eddie’s skin against yours growing louder as he thrusts harder than before. He reaches under your ass to pull you up some, angling you just right so with every thrust his cock rubs up against your g-spot. “That’s it sugar, it’s okay I got you, let go. Cum on this dick and let everyone hear who makes you feel this good.” Your body trembles beneath him, your stomach flips at his dirty words as you look down and watch him sliding in and out of you. The drag of his cock, enough to make you feel like you’re on another planet entirely as you finally give up. Your eyes roll back as your mouth babbles on, Eddie grips onto your hips, his blunt nails digging into your skin as you feel his cock twitch inside of you. His deep moans blend with yours creating a delicious melody as he fills you up.

You hear him laugh as you both come down from your high, he slowly pulls out of you leaving you empty and sore as you open your eyes to look up at him. “What’s so funny?” You say, your voice rough from how loud you were being, he smiles at you before leaning down to kiss your forehead, moving some of the hair that’s stuck to it away. “Oh, s’nothin. Just thinking how funny it is that you’re a freak, and they have no idea.” You bite your lip before giggling, slapping his arm slightly as you sit up to fix your clothes. You don’t bother with finding your panties as you watch Eddie reach into the back of the van, grabbing his pants. “Well, next time maybe we’ll have to give them a real show, Eddie.” You whisper, running your tongue up the side of his ear, his cock throbs at your words, a low moan slipping from his lips.

tag list- @voyeurmunson @vecslut @littlexdeaths @xxbimbobunnyxx @josephquinnsfreckles

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #southern!eddie #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #stranger things smut #joseph quinn smut #eddie x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female character #eddie smut

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rinneverse · 2 days

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this has been on my mind ever since boothill got announced but what kind of kinks would this southern cyborg hunk have,,,??? like its not fair i have to wait so long for him grrr

fantastic question dear nonnie !!

after some careful deliberation, it is my absolute honor to say that i think that he's a big fan of overstim, restraints, and i'm not quite sure if this is a kink in particular but manhandling.

cw for nsfw boothill x f!reader thoughts under the cut!! minors do not interact, please and thank you !!

i've defo said this before but he's got unlimited stamina. he's devoted to your pleasure and will spend HOUURSSS on foreplay alone. due to having a cyborg body, he truly only gets true and real Human sensation with anything that has to do with his face. this is why i'm diagnosing him with cunnilingus FIEND. loves eating you out, having you sit on his face, anywhere and anytime. he does NOT care if you two are out and about in public, if he gets the urges, he's dragging you into the nearest closet, hoisting you up onto the nearest surface, slinging your legs over his shoulders, and going to TOWN.

i think about improper lasso usage with him alot—and maybe this is me just projecting my own kinks onto him, but i truly do think he's into it. he likes to pleasure you until you're trying to run away from it, but we can't have that, now can we? that's why he ties your wrists to the headboard and pins your knees to your chest as he pounds you into the mattress. you can't get away from him in this position and you're gonna take everything he gives you!*

(*obviously, there's a safeword in place that he absolutely will respect. but until that's said, he's having as much fun as he wants with you!)

with a cyborg body comes a scary amount of strength. he likes to toss you over his shoulder, pull and mold you into any position he wants (full nelson is a favorite of his for sure), and if he wanted to, he could truly just toss you around like a ragdoll. with that in mind, he knows that you've put your unwavering trust into him, so he's always absolutely sure not to break that! he knows the limits of the human body well (he's tested them and come back a cyborg, after all), so he's always sure to never go past what you cannot handle.

i definitely have some more thoughts on boothill and his kinks but there are some fics i'm working on that i don't want to spoil quite yet ... stay tuned !! :D

please don't repost on other platforms. rbs and comments are super appreciated ♡ !!

#☆ oakie writes #boothill x reader #boothill smut #hsr smut #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail smut #oak needs water...#WE ARE SO BACK! late night boothill yearning YEAH YEAH YEAH!! <3

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sunkissed-zegras · 1 day

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𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐍𝐂𝐇 ─ HF³⁹

౨ৎ ─ summary | pretty self explanator once again, hector hard launches you!!!! yayaya! this was requested -> hard launch with hector fort pls🙏🏻"

─ warnings | very short!!!!!! joao/magui slander (i'm sorry king i love u, #justice4joao), marc/hector bromance, SO MUCH HUMOUR LIKE IDK IF ITS FUNNY OR NOT, but i giggled writing it so... pretty much nothing else but cuteness

─ ev's notes | i love hector sm, this was so fun to make!!!!!!!!

hctorforrt_ barcelona, spain

Liked by marcguiu9, pablogavi, joaofelix79 and 128,204 more

hctorforrt_ | blessed march 1st, 2024

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↳ marcguiu9 USA USA USA USA

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

#hector fort #barcelona fc #barcelona x reader #hector fort x reader #hector fort x you #soccer x reader #marc guiu #pablo gavi #pedri gonzalez

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feyreswaterybowels · 21 hours

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⟡ Princess of Dreams ⟡

Lucien x Rhys!Sister

⟡ Part 1 ⟡ Part 2 ⟡

Word Count: 3k

Summary: Following the events of the Solstice ceremony.

Warnings/Tags: smut. implied past sexual assault. fluffy romance. feyre and Rhys’ sister being besties and wanting to destroy tamlin. possible grammatical errors.

Authors Note: All likes comments and reblogs are appreciated, welcome and encouraged! Let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list for part 3! Bold italics are mental communication, regular italics are inner thoughts. (Mood Board)

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. ₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

It’s hours later when the intensely bright sun had finally sunk back below the western horizon, giving me back my beautiful night sky.

There had been more countless hours of…well of not much really but it was still exhausting to be standing around all day surrounded by thousands of flowers and brightly colored streamers, watching Feyre and Tamlin greet and speak to everyone while Ianthe followed around trying to explain what happened.

The cauldron had blessed her chosen friend, she told anyone who would listen—how the sun had altered its very path to show how glad it was for her return. I would silently mock her every time she repeated those words.

There hadn’t been many interested in her tale, and the ones that were showed mild interest at best.

Feyre had stuck close to us for a majority of the time. I didn’t mind. I felt extremely protective over her. Not only as my High Lady but as my friend. I may not have access to my physical powers but I could still enter a mind in half a second and destroy someone if they dared harm her.

I’d enjoyed watching this new Feyre. How confident and sure she’d become. When the adoring fae wished to touch her hand, weep a bit over her, thank her for all she’d done she would have cringed away before. Now she openly accepted their thanks and gratitude. Thanking them and smiling as any High Lord would. Mostly genuine. Though for some, like courtiers and sentries, she put on a better show.

After six hours many retreat to freshen up.

“Tell my brother I love him.” I tell Feyre when she hugs me as she leaves. She promises to tell him for me.

Lucien and I stay, watching as lunch is cleared away and the band sets up. I would give anything to be spending this day with my family, but I was always grateful to have my mate at my side.

So when the band finally started playing and the fae around us took to the dance floor I dragged Lucien up. He hadn’t put up much of a fight—we loved dancing.

And dance we did for hours. I had even stolen Feyre away from Tamlin a few times much to his annoyance and my satisfaction.

We laughed together, spinning around the dance floor. It reminded me of myself and Mor—how we would get drunk on wine at Rita’s and dance the night away. I couldn’t wait to have nights like that with Feyre, too.

I spun her back into Tamlins arms as Lucien stole me away this time, practically begging me to come with him to eat and I realized why when I noticed Ianthe prowling around the tables.

Even she couldn’t put a damper on my mood right now. We fixed our plates and seated ourselves. More wine in our glasses as we sat tucked off away from the largest parts of the crowd—talking in hushed voices and feeding one another as if we hadn’t been mated for nearly two decades now.

Eventually I had shifted from my seat to stand behind Lucien, playing with his hair while we watched those on the dance floor become increasingly more drunk. I started braiding his hair, a taunt braid along either side of his head, curling behind his pointed ears.

“Your hair is getting so long,” I tell him, those auburn locks well past his shoulders now.

“I know,” He says, leaning back in his chair. “I’ve been thinking of cutting it—”

I gasp, drawing his attention up to me. “You better not!”

The laugh that leaves his mouth goes straight to my core. He reaches up and pulls me to bend over him so he can kiss me.

“Is that an order, Princess?” He asks against my lips and I grin.

“More like I’ll kick your ass if you do it,” I tease, kissing him again.

As I’m pulling away to go back to braiding his hair I feel eyes on us. Violet meeting teal and I bare my teeth in a wicked smile. I slide my fingers through his hair, gently pulling to tilt his head back, keeping eye contact with her as I lean down to kiss him again… stroking my tongue over his. He gasps in my mouth, reaching up to caress my head with a strong hand.

Anger lights in those eyes across the way and I grin as Lucien’s lips move to my throat, my free hand sliding around and down his chest—slipping under his shirt to feel heated skin.

I moan as he sucks on my skin, digging my nails into his chest and tightening my hand in his hair.

“Fuck,” Lucien growls, standing quickly from the chair, towering over me. “Come here.”

Then I’m being dragged away. I look over my shoulder smirking at Ianthe who is red in the face looking like she’s about to have a tantrum. She takes a step forward as if about to follow Lucien and I only to be stopped by Feyre, though I couldn’t hear what was being said before we disappeared into the thick woods.

“You’re nothing but trouble,” Lucien taunts, pushing me against a tree and attacking my mouth.

“You love it,” I gasp against his lips, reaching between us to work his pants open, ignoring the way the tree bark digs into my wings.

“Turn around,” he orders, but before I can move he’s got me spun around and pressed against the tree. “Hands.” Is his next order.

I present my wrists to him behind my back and his large hand wraps around them, pinning them to my lower back.

“I’m gonna fuck you right here, Princess,” Lucien says, the sound of his buckle coming undone making me shiver. “I want you to be loud enough that she hears you.”

I moan at that. Knowing exactly who he’s talking about without saying her name. Though it’s unlikely she’ll actually hear me from this distance over the music but the thought that she might? And probably had many times is something I love. She wants him so bad—not that I blame her. But to remind her he was mine over and over, that she would never get to have him made me feral.

I’m pulled from those thoughts when the skirt of my dress is being lifted, that hand of fire trailing between my thighs, rubbing at my wetness before ripping the stocking and panties I wore beneath.

“Tell me, sweet girl, are you turned on because of me? Or because you know she knows exactly what we’re doing out here?” Lucien asks, fingers sliding through my wetness, rubbing in that perfect spot until I was weak in the knees. Only held up by his weight pushing me against the tree.

“I asked a question,” He grunts, pulling that heat away from my center.

“Both,” I gasp out in a moan, needing his hand back. “Fuck, both.”

“That’s a good girl,” He praises, hand sliding back between my thighs, rubbing at me, two fingers sliding inside.

“Oh, fuck, Lu,” I moaned. His fingers weren’t as thick or long as his cock but they felt so good filling me up, curling perfectly to find that spot that had me seeing stars.

“I’m gonna make you cum on my fingers first,” He leaned over me to breathe in my ear, careful of my wings, fingers pumping faster, “then on my cock. Then I’m gonna take you back to that party filled up. We’re going to tell everyone goodbye then I’m gonna take you home, tie you to the bed and have my godsdamn way with you.”

“Yes, please!” I cry out, clenching around his fingers, cumming entirely too easy just from the way he rubs that spot inside of me, just from the way his voice rasped against my ear.

His fingers slide from me but before I can protest I feel him press against me, pushing in, in, in until he’s fully sheathed inside of me. He pressed a kiss to the back of my neck, the back of my shoulders between my wings. I wished he had ripped the damn dress from my body so I could feel his lips against my skin.

“That could be arranged,” He purrs, reaching around to grasp my breast, not realizing I had sent that through the bond.

“Lu, please,” I begged, pushing back against him. He hisses in pleasure, nipping at my neck before straightening his spine, still holding my wrist as he pulls his hips back, thrusting all the way back in. “Yesss.”

Then he fucks me. Hard and rough.

Bent over against a tree in the middle of the forest. I let every sound imaginable fall from my lips exactly the way he ordered me to. Between the events of the day, the flirting, the unwanted looks from another and the wine I was falling over the edge easily for the second time.

He slows his thrusts, giving me only a moment to catch my breath before he’s pulling out and spinning me back around. My knees buckle and I fall to the ground directly in front of him.

“Look at my pretty girl, so fucked out she can’t even stand,” Lucien coos, grasping my chin gently to tilt my head up, sliding his thumb into my mouth. I suck on the digit, batting my eyelashes at him, watching that fire burn in his eyes.

He reaches down, grabbing me around the waist and hauls me up, lifting me easily into his arms, my dress bunching between us. My arms and legs wrap around him and I kiss him. I can’t help it.

It only takes some slight maneuvering before he’s back inside of me, my calves over his forearms as he’s thrust into me. It was always such a turn on the way he could hold me like this, so easily, as he took me.

The bond suddenly lights up with warmth and my mind goes blank as I come again.

“Fill me up. Please, cum in me, I want it.”

I can feel how close he is without him saying anything. The sounds he’s making, the feelings through the bond. I know exactly when he’s about to cum and I moan as he fills me up

“So good, that was so good, Luc.”

He moans, eyes meeting mine and I smile at him. Pushing a few strands of hair from his sweaty forehead.

He takes a few gasping breaths, holding me in his arms still, basking in the high of his orgasm. I wrap my wings around us as we stand there, providing us with some form of privacy should anyone stumble upon us.

“We should get back,” I tell him, kissing the tip of his pointed ear. Wanting nothing more than to just skip out on the goodbyes and just go back to the house.

“Just another minute,” he said breathy, one of his hands reaching to grasp my ass cheek. “Just wanna be inside of you.”

“Mm. We could just go say our goodbyes like this,” I offer, playing with the braid I put in his hair earlier. “Unfortunately that means quite a few males would see me with your cock—”

Lucien growls at that and I giggle when his eyes meet mine. “I would kill someone.”

I hum in response, kissing him.

“The thought of you killing someone simply for seeing my body shouldn’t be so sexy.”

His hearty laugh vibrates through my body—my favorite sound.

“Come on, Princess. Let’s get this over with so I can get you in my bed,” He says, slipping from my body and setting me getting on my feet, making sure I was steady before tucking himself away.

We take a few moments to collect ourselves, kissing softly between straightening the other clothes and fixing disheveled hair. Of course no one was stupid. They would scent the smell of sex on us but that didn’t mean we had to make it any more obvious.

By the time we got back the sun had been long gone from the sky, dozens of blazing fires lit the area now. I didn’t spot Ianthe anywhere but Feyre finds us within moments of us taking up a spot by the fire.

We had meant to say our goodbyes but Feyre offered me a glass of wine. Which led to another. And another. We danced with one another around the fire—Lucien taking turns spinning us around. I had no idea where Tamlin was and I honestly didn’t care.

It was when Feyre asked Lucien and I to escort her back to the manor. Being ever the gentleman he agreed. I was much more drunk than Feyre but Lucien offered an elbow to each of us, letting us hang on him as he led us back to the house.

We left Feyre at her bedroom, I giggled out a goodnight, grabbing her face and kissing her cheek. As we were turning away I tripped over my foot and giggled again.

“Luc, I’m drunk,” I said, as he grabbed my arm, wrapping it around his neck.

“Yeah, Princess, I know,” Lucien chuckled, leading me to our bedroom.

I felt so light and blissful, letting him undress me and clean me up. He pulled the pins from my hair and cleaned the makeup from my face sliding a nightgown onto my naked body.

He laid me back, pulling his comforter over my body, tucking me in tightly. “Get some sleep, sweet girl,” He smiles down at me, kissing my forehead.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

I woke up hours later to Lucien tossing and turning. Ever since the Mountain his sleep was more restless than not, dragging up traumas old and new.

My head pounded from all the wine I’d drunk but I watched his face, still peaceful despite the unease of his sleep. It was when a horrified grimace crossed his face that I took over. When I felt the bond run ice cold with fear, when I got a glimpse of that nightmare—one he’s had before, where it starts with Jesminda’s torture and right as she’s about to be executed she changes into me as Beron and Lucien’s brother’s force him to watch me be murdered.

I slip into his mind, caressing it gently, ending the dream easily before it gets to that horrid part. I crawl next to him, laying his head in my lap and carding my fingers through his hair, braiding and unbraiding pieces, scratching at his scalp gently.

Instead I show him Velaris, the life I want us to have there together, the life we always talked about.

Living in our home right on the river. Late night stroll under an endless diamond sky. A long and happy life with beautiful red headed, winged babies. All the adventures we could go on together when no longer stuck in the boundaries of the Spring Court. Having the bond declared in a ceremony, a proper wedding, going swimming in the Sidra, taking him to see Ramiel—there was so much I wanted to do with him.

We’ve had a good life together here in Spring. He had done everything to make it better for me once he realized who I was, that I was stuck here. Picnic dates by the pond, visits to farmers markets, naps under beautiful trees, drinking wine, horseback rides, festivals and gardening.

But we could have a better life. An amazing one instead of a good one and I wanted to spend it with him.

He shifts, arms wrapping around my legs, nuzzling against my thigh, pressing his lips to my tanned skin but he doesn’t wake. I lull him into a deeper sleep, thumbing away the crease between his eyebrows.

My head whips up at a sound across the hall, Feyres room. I listen carefully, hear her door open. Then there’s a gentle knock on our door. She must have had a nightmare too…maybe I should start checking in on her at night.

I gently untangle myself from Lucien’s embrace, pulling the bed sheet over his body before sliding from the bed. There’s a second knock just before I reach the door. I scanned her head to toe quick—sweaty and disheveled but not physically harmed.

“I heard you, are you okay?” I asked, stepping to the side to let her into the room, scanning the hall for any sign of trouble. There seemed to be nothing.

The room was lit mainly by the moon light and I watched her look around the room. The night gown she wore was above mid thigh but she turned around to look at me before I could question her motive.

“I had a dream about it,” she rasped thickly, “Under the Mountain. I couldn’t remember where I was.”

I nod my head in understanding. Lucien had similar dreams. I wanted to kill Amarantha all over again for what she had done. To Feyre. To Lucien. To my brother. To thousands and thousands of fae.

“What did you dream of tonight?” I asked, stepping closer to her.

“She had me spiked to the wall like Clare Beddor. And the Attor was—” She shuddered, running her hands over her face.

I walked closer to her, a frown on my face, wanting to provide her with some kind of comfort. There’s something in the house, a vibration, I feel it but before I can question it she’s thrown her arms around me. I don’t object as she buries her face against my neck, warm tears falling on my bare skin. I let out a small sigh, sliding an arm around her waist, the other caressing her head, stroking over her dark golden hair.

“I’m sorry, Feyre,” I breathed, kissing the crown of her head. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”

Her cries and tears eventually subside but I continued to hold her. Allowing her to take the comfort she needed from me. I pulled back slightly, caressed her face gently, wiping away the remaining tears. I looked at her, I knew she could see the concern in my eyes, but there was something else in hers, something not completely of the fear and sadness she was presenting.

“Why are you—”

“What’s going on?” Tamlin’s deep voice rumbles through the room. I turned my head slightly to look at him, he stood there face a mask of cold calm, the beginnings of claws glinting at his knuckles—looking as if he’d caught us in the middle of something naughty.

“I had a nightmare,” she explained, pulling, straightening her nightgown. I fought the urge to smile. “I-I didn’t want to wake the house.”

Tamlin knew I didn’t sleep in here most nights. Lucien either slept in my room or we slept separately, so in his eyes Feyre had to have been seeking out the comfort of Lucien after her nightmare.

He just stood there staring at us. Eyes glancing at Lucien before looking at me with narrowed eyes, a glare that I returned. His mouth tightened into a thin line and I nearly snarled at him—those claws still half drawn.

“I had a nightmare,” Feyre repeated sharply, walking forward to grip Tamlin’s arm, turning him but he looked back at me. I crossed my arms over my chest and smirked at him as she led him from the room closing the door.

“You little shit, your lucky Lucien wasn’t awake, Tamlin would’ve killed him,” I told her crawling back in bed with my mate.

“I wouldn’t let that happen. I needed to plant some kind of doubt in his mind. You seemed to do the trick though,” Feyre’s answer came five minutes later, laughter in her voice.

“You should have told me I would have kissed you right in front of him,” I teased back, sliding under the sheet, cuddling up to that warm body.

“Next time,” Is her response, a mental image of her winking and blowing me a kiss followed.

I laughed out loud.

“What’s going on?” Lucien asks, a slight frown on his face at being woken suddenly.

I grinned, kissing his chest.

“Nothing, my love. Go back to sleep,” I whispered, easily slipping into his mind to lull him back to sleep.

I grinned to myself.

“Burn it down, Feyre” I told her. “Burn it all down.”

Fuck Tamlin. And fuck the Spring Court.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

tag list: @sleepylunarwolf @stained-glass-eyes0708 @saltedcoffeescotch @cherry-cin @xmalfoyweasleyx @jesskidding3 @minaethrym @scorpioriesling @inloveallthetime @paleidiot

#the way I’m obsessing over my own story #I’m already considering a prequel of sorts from the beginning of the first book #BUT #Feyre and Rhys’ sister is one of my fav relationships so far #they’re just so fun #yes I have that Lucien scene to Rhys’ sister #tamlins jealous self would definitely think they were about to get down and dirty together in their tiny night gowns #lucien vanserra #lucien vanssera x reader #lucien fanfic #pro lucien vanserra #Princess of dreams

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slytherinboysappreciation · 1 day

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Bullied - Prof. T. R. x platonic gn!Reader

A/N: this was originally written for this request, but I realized it was too angsty so I made it its own thing. Please read the warnings carefully! They’re there for a reason! This fic is completely unedited with no use of Y/N. Please be nice, I’m an inexperienced writer 💛 Comments, likes, and reblogs are always appreciated!!

CW: Bullying!!; descriptions of bullying; crying; shame; graphic descriptions of violence/injury!!; anxiety; mentions of the quills Umbridge used; detention; mentions of eating; Prof. Riddle becomes a safe space for reader; swearing; derogatory language towards reader; graphic descriptions of violence against reader!!!!; nausea; head wounds; vague mentions of blood; Dumbledore bashing; hurt/comfort, I guess; slightly fluffy ending?

I think that’s everything. Please please let me know if I’ve missed anything! If you don’t like it, don’t read it!!

2019 words

You were hiding in a corner of the library, silently crying. The library was your safe space; the only place in the whole school aside from your dorm where you didn’t have to worry about getting bullied.

And it had been invaded. Your bullies had come in today, destroying your peace with the very sight of them. Even worse, they’d ripped your books and blamed it on you.

Madame Pince had been thankfully skeptical, but the three of you still got detention. You were terrified of being in the same room alone for hours with those two.

As you sniffle and wipe your eyes, the sound of footsteps approaches your spot. You huddle up into a ball, hastily wiping your face in an attempt to hide that you were crying.

“You should be in bed.”

You look up, startled. It’s Professor Riddle, looking down at you with an unreadable expression.

“I— I was—“ You falter, unsure what to say. Telling the truth hadn’t worked with your head of house. There’s no way you’d expose your deepest shame to someone as imposing as Professor Riddle.

“Yes, sir,” you say meekly, slowly picking yourself up.

He watches you, hands tucked into his pockets. “Everything all right?”

Your eyes start to itch from crying so much. You rub at them before catching yourself. “Yes, sir. Just…”

He holds up a hand and pulls something out of his pocket. A handkerchief. “Next time, come to me.”

You take the handkerchief slowly. Next time… Was he saying… You couldn’t risk it.

“Yes, sir,” you mumble, starting to back away. He stops you with a hand on your shoulder.

“I mean it. Bullying has no place here at Hogwarts.”

You stare down at the floor, frail hope fluttering in your chest. You squash it with both hands.

“Thanks, Professor,” you say quietly. “But I’ve heard that before.”

With that, you shrug off his hand and walk away, clutching his handkerchief like a lifeline.

Your detention comes late the next night. You’re fully prepared for the usual horrors. Being forced to clean suits of armor by yourself until your fingers crack and bleed from the chemicals. Scrubbing floors till your knees are bruised and you can’t feel your arms.

Being a guinea pig for whatever malicious spell the two bullies of yours have cooked up.

Instead, you receive a different set of instructions. Your two bullies will be cleaning floors and suits of armor.

You will be writing lines with Professor Riddle.

You stare blankly at your head of house, baffled by the news. Writing lines? That’s a first year punishment, the easiest detention ever.

You show up outside Riddle’s office at exactly the time you’re supposed to. Without punishment or curses from your bullies, it’s easy to be on time.

You knock on the door, nervousness drumming through you. Why had he taken your detention? What was his plan with this? Was it some sort of worse punishment?

You’d heard about the cutting quills from Professor Umbridge’s reign of terror. Would this be something similar?

The door swings open, startling you so badly you jump. Professor Riddle raises an eyebrow but doesn’t comment on your action.

“Come in. I have everything set up.”

You slowly follow him in, your nerves building with every step. He’s supposed to be the strictest teacher. The hardest on his students and the one urging them the most to reach their ambitions.

You sit at the desk he’s provided you, looking over the paper and quill in front of you. They look… just like a normal quill and paper.

“They’re perfectly safe. I’ve used that quill before.” Riddle watches you from his desk, that same inscrutable expression on his face:

You startle. Then flush with embarrassment. “Sorry, sir. I’ve just had… bad experiences before.”

He nods. “Here.”

You watch in disbelief as he picks up his own quill and ink pot and brings them over to you. Then he takes yours and moves them over to his desk.

“Is that better?”

You just stare at him for a moment. Then your sense comes back to you and you nod. “Y-Yes, sir.”

“Please start with your lines. I’ve written the first one out for you. You will fill the front and back of the page.”

“Yes, sir.”

You lower your head and pick up the quill he’d given you. You don’t know what you did to receive such light detention, but you’re not complaining. It’s infinitely better than what you’d be doing otherwise.

You grimace at the thought and lower the tip of the quill to the page. With a deep breath, you start writing.

Over the next week, you start to warm to Professor Riddle. It takes two whole days to stop being so jumpy around him, and two more days before you slowly start to believe his words.

Mainly because he will not stop asking you about your bullies. About who they are. What they do. It would be annoying if it wasn’t so gratifying that someone finally seems to care.

You don’t really answer him, of course. You have enough self-preservation to know that much, but you do start to reveal smaller details.

Like how you’re always late to class because of them. Or how they bother you when you try to study. Or even how you’re afraid to eat meals outside of your dorm because of them.

Which is the reason you’re currently outside his office door again. You knock hesitantly, balancing your plate of food with one hand.

He opens the door and you walk in, sitting at the now familiar desk. You set down your plate and get comfortable.

“Thank you, sir,” you say quietly, picking up your fork.

“Of course.” Riddle nods and sits at his desk to eat his own lunch.

It’s strange; eating in peace for once. You don’t have to worry about slaps to the head or food being spilled on you or some new embarrassing secret being shared. You just eat your food.

It’s hard to admit, but Professor Riddle is starting to grow on you. He doesn’t make you talk; doesn’t force you to do things you don’t like. He just sits with that unreadable expression of his and lets you do the same.

You take your time eating your food, allowing yourself to savor the flavors. It’s a nice change of pace. One you could find yourself getting used to.

Once you’re done eating, you get up. “Thank you, sir.”

“Of course,” Professor Riddle says, glancing up from his own plate. “Enjoy the rest of your classes.”

“I will.” You give him a slight smile and leave his office.

Maybe things will actually be better after this.

You’re slammed against the wall. Hands grind your face against the stone, pinning you in place.

“You fucker!” It’s your bullies, clearly enraged. “You think you can tell on us and get away with it?!”

You panic, fear shooting through you.

“We almost got expelled because of you, you piece of shit!”

Your head is pulled back so you can see their angry faces.

“I didn’t say anything!“ you beg, starting to shake with panic and terror.

“Shut up! I swear to god, you dumb little—“

Your head is bashed against the wall. Your hearing cuts out, replaced by the loudest ringing you’ve ever heard. Your vision goes blurry. Something drips down your face, stinging your eyes.

Then, the hands are pulled off you. You’re vaguely aware of yelling as your legs give out and you crumple against the wall.

Your head throbs, pain shooting through your forehead as you lean your head against the wall. When you pull back to try and focus on it, red stains the stone.

Someone crouches down in front of you. A gentle hand tilts up your chin. You struggle to focus on the face, but your vision won’t cooperate.

The person says something, but you just blink. You can’t hear what they’re saying over the ringing in your ears.

Hands scoop you up, cradling you in strong arms. Nausea rises in your throat at the sudden motion.

The last thing you remember is throwing up.

You wake up in the Hospital Wing. You don’t remember much; just a bustling Madame Pomfrey and a warm, firm hand gently rubbing your back as you cry. The rest is a haze. It makes your head hurt to try and remember so you just give up.

After Madame Pomfrey pronounces you to be fine, you’re swept up to the Headmaster’s office. You sit nervously in a chair, fiddling with your fingers.

Headmaster Dumbledore’s normally kind expression has been replaced with a serious look.

“Hello,” he greets you solemnly. “I’m glad to hear you’re doing better.”

Something about the way he says it makes you doubt he means it. You say nothing in return.

Your Head of House bustles around behind you, muttering something under their breath. You look down at your hands and wish you were back in the Hospital Wing.

“Do you know why you’re here?” Dumbledore asks.

You shrug a little and don’t look up. “No.”

“We take bullying very seriously here at Hogwarts.”

You snort, then wince as your head aches from the action.

Dumbledore’s lips thin, and his look sharpens. “We understand you have been through some… issues with a few of our students.”

You bite your tongue to keep from saying anything rash.

“We’ve contacted your parents about the situation,” your Head of House adds. “But they haven’t replied yet.”

Your stomach churns. You’re well aware of that. Your parents have taken a hands off approach to your schooling since you started being bullied. You doubt they’ve even read the letter from the school.

“Unfortunately,” Dumbledore continues, “without the permission of a trusted adult, we cannot do much about the issue. The offending students will be given detention and strict warnings.”

“What?” Your eyes start to sting. “You’re just— You’re not going to do anything?”

Dumbledore raises his hands in a helpless gesture. “Without permission from a trusted adult—“

You can feel the tears building behind your eyes. “No! There has to be something you can do! I can’t— What if this happens again?!”

Dumbledore opens his mouth to say something when the door to his office flies open. Professor Riddle stands in the doorway, glaring at the Headmaster.

“A letter for you.” He says calmly. He approaches Dumbledore and hands him a letter. “I think you’ll find it contains everything you’ll require for the students’ expulsions.”

Dumbledore’s expression changes instantly. “Of course, Tom,” he says coolly, “I appreciate your care and concern for our students.”

Professor Riddle doesn’t even try to hide his sneer. “Someone has to do it.”

He gestures to you. “Come on.” It’s not a request. It’s an order.

You obey, getting to your feet and meekly following him out. As soon as you get down to the hallway, Professor Riddle turns to you.

“I’m sorry about that. You should be resting, not dealing with old fools.”

You blink up at him. “How did you…?”

“I owled your parents.”

He doesn’t elaborate and you decide you don’t want to know.

“Thank you, sir.”

He rests a hand on your shoulder and gives it a comforting rub. “Of course. Your bullies will be expelled by tomorrow morning, and you won’t ever have to deal with them again.”

Tears well up in your eyes. He truly means it. You won’t have to worry about getting to class, or about not studying, or anything like that again.

You throw your arms around him, hugging him tightly. “Oh, thank you, sir!”

He pats your back, lightly returning your hug. “You’re welcome. Now, go get some rest. I don’t want to see you out and about till morning.”

“Yes, sir!” You head off to your dorm, practically giddy with excitement.

You’re finally free from your bullies. You’ll be able to make friends again now. You can get good grades again. Live without fear for your wellbeing.

You don’t think you’ve ever been so happy in your life. And it’s all thanks to Professor Riddle.

#tom riddle #professor tom riddle #platonic reader #gn reader #gender neutral reader #divider by cafekitsune #reader is from an unspecified hogwarts house #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x you #professor tom riddle x reader #professor tom riddle x you #tw bullying #tw violence

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writinginthetwilight · 4 hours

Text

Knock, knock.

Neighbour!Eddie x Neighbour! Reader

Chapter Warnings: 18+ for smut in later parts if you are under 18 you do not belong here, be gone.

AFAB reader. Stress. Strong language. Nightmares. Sleep walking. Horror/creepy vibes. Shit jobs. Mentions of cheating. Let me know if you want any listed that I have missed. See the Masterlist for full list of warnings.

Authors note: Thank you for all the love on the last part of this fic, it honestly makes me so happy that people are embracing this creepylittle story. This chapter made my brain melt a little but I'm excited to finally release it from its confinement.

As always all my love to @bettyfrommars @allthingsjoeq and @somnambulic-thing for writing the original prompt that birthed this weird world I'm making. You're the best.

6. You move into a new apartment and soon discover that you share a wall with a very noisy neighbor. Loud laughter, talking, and music are a constant companion. When you decide to go over and knock on their door to confront them in person, you find that the apartment is unoccupied and has been for months.

Reblogs and comments are much appreciated. Love you bye.

Part 5 - The gods manual to the frail.

When you were small you longed for lucid dreaming.

The idea that you could control the vivid picture book of your unconscious mind was fantastical, to be able to puppeteer it to make you fly, race faster, fight stronger, it was overwhelming.

You soon learnt though that just because you knew you were asleep, that didn't stop your imagination from being overactive, didn't mean it would always play along.

Just as quickly as your mind could command you to fly it could also tell you to fall.

The bathroom door's wide open.

Your limbs are free, not rigid and wedged at the odd angles that usually come with being in this particular dream.

You're not alone though, you know it without seeing them.

A looming presence in your peripheral that's making your skin crawl.

Unseeing yet watching. No longer trapped in the shadows that writhed behind the bathroom door, they were out, watching you from the corners of your ceiling.

You can't look at them, an overwhelming knowledge overcoming you that to acknowledge them was to lose.

They slip like hot wax as they move, watching as you leave bed, your body's heavy and slow as you move through the dim light feeling your way, trying to escape.

You hear them move through the door frame above you quickly, wet and slick. Too fast.

You're asleep.

The reminder seems to make your body jerk as if your muscles had been released and the creatures chitter above you like cats stalking birds.

Your feet carry you clumsily through the main room as it stretches before you further than it should, the door you're trying to reach always suddenly behind you as soon as you start to make progress.

Panic rises as the creature's chitters get louder

Delighted.

You shouldn't have looked up.

The waxy unseeing faces twitch towards you and you don't know how you know they're smiling.

You start to run, faster and faster towards the door which never gets any closer.

Then the chittering stops.

You turn, watching as the creatures slither and melt into the cracks in the scar leaving you in dead silence.

Then you're falling.

You wake with a scream stuck in your throat, hands pressed against the uneven surface of the wall adjacent to your bedroom.

Your legs give way beneath you and you scramble backwards until your back hits the couch.

Breathings ragged and hands shaking you look up.

The scar sits quietly above you.

“Fuck you.”

So I spoke to this kid I know, well he's not exactly a kid he's 22 but I've known him since high-school…

Your forehead creases as you read your rambling morning letter from Eddie. Toast hanging out your mouth greasy spread sticking against the corner of your lips as you slowly dress into your rigid self appointed uniform.

It had become a routine in the days since you ‘met’, relaying back what you know slowly trying to put the puzzle pieces together of what was happening to you both.

He's going to send a mic over for my stereo. Do you think you can get one for yours? My haunting schedule varies…

You let out a snort as you throw the bottom of your refrigerator surprise lunch into your bag, you're still not entirely sure he's not a ghost, but he no longer takes the bait to heart like he did, which makes it decidedly less fun.

.. It depends on which kids book lessons but they're always between 8 and 5. Bars 10-3 Fridays Saturday. I pick up extras where I can.

Batman Returns. No

Nirvana. Yes

Duran Duran. Unfortunately, yes.

Sepultura

Lost boys.

Donny Darco.

You frown at the last title listed in your ongoing ‘Does this exist 50 questions’, that shouldn't be out yet.

Shoving the last of the toast in your mouth you scribble a note back to him, shaking off the crumbs when you're done and shouldering your rucksack before leaving.

The nightmares hadn't returned but the last one had left you anxious to fall asleep, any sleep you did get was short and light for fear of what you would fall into.

This was the fourth time the shadowy fucks had invaded your subconscious and every time, the images, the feeling remained.

It's still there whenever you close your eyes for too long, like they're carved onto the inside of your skull.

It didn't feel like sleepwalking, all instances before having been more confusing than anything. Told to you by those who witnessed it but you yourself had little to no memory of what happened.

Then there was Eddie even when he was trying to be quiet, the man was a hurricane waking you when you had finally drifted off by rummaging around or having one of his late-night phone calls to whoever Wayne was.

The bus ride over to the office makes your eyelids heavy with its constant rhythm, the grey clouds muting the sun's glare into a comfortable warmth. You could easily just close your eyes, but every time they droop the hiss of a stop startles you upright.

The office is always too bright when you get there, grey walls and plastic plants welcoming you to the sea of desks under the fluorescents.

You tug at your fitted clothes, once your assigned funeral clothes and now your office outfit, it's fitting really, considering the place makes you feel dead inside.

Why you need to be smart casual for sitting at a desk for 8 hours is beyond you.

Shona's there as you sit down, cackling loudly into her headset. Your first day buddy, as they called her, hadn't really helped all that much, told you where to sit then explained the office politics at such breakneck speed it gave you whiplash.

Surprisingly, or maybe less so now you know her, all those she seems to class as undesirables are the only people with decent conversation in this place.

The only saving grace to your tired soul is it's finally payday, due in your bank by closing time.

So you spend your day between calls, browsing microphones, looking up astral projection and Donny Darco.

You knew it came out later than 1993.

IT must think you're a riot.

A murmur goes across the office and Shona grins at you as she excitedly tells you she's going to go out for lunch.

You take out your phone quickly, opening your bank app. You can already smell the takeout, feel the new body wash on your skin, feel the comfort washing over you, you won't have to flinch every time a bill’s due.

Your stomach sinks through your feet and slithers out leaving you hollow.

The amount is low. Sickeningly so.

There must be an issue, a mistake, but as your payslip arrives in your email.

No.

New starter deductions.

Training.

Equipment.

Resources.

They go on, apparently Shona forgot to mention this, it slipped her mind she tells you with a pout before she breezes away.

You think you might hate Shona.

You shouldn't have, the little voice whispers in the back of your head.

You should have been sensible.

The takeout bag rustles from where it hangs from your wrist, it smells too good for you to regret it yet.

Your mood had soured by the minute until it was time for you to clock out and in some self sabotaging monetary cloud you decided for tonight, you were going to pretend that you'd been paid for the actual work you had done.

The apartment’s quiet when you enter and the tension in your shoulders drop a fraction at the sight of it.

Your rucksack falls to the floor, and you're popping the lid on the box of dumplings before you've even taken off your jacket.

The savoury cloud of steam that's released makes your mouth water and you groan at the first bite.

“Hey.”

The voice from above almost makes you choke and you wheeze, hands gripping the counter.

“Jesus Eddie. Why are you sitting in silence like a creep.”

“You're too loud Eddie. You're too quiet, christ.”

Tension floods your body again and misdirected anger makes you scowl at your food as you harshly put the lid back on.

“What are you doing?”

“Reading?” His voice is chipper and it instantly irritates you.

You don't respond, moving to your couch shedding your outer layers and popping the button round your waist before resuming eating.

“You okay?”

“Peachy.” You say around another bite hoping he gets the hint.

He doesn't.

In his defence it's probably hard to read the room when you can't see anyone in it.

“So, I was thinking”

“Dangerous.” you quip smirking to yourself at the disgruntled noise he makes as you pop the lid on your noodles.

You take a bite. God this is good.

“I was thinking. You should investigate apartment 7.”

You pause, noodles mid way to your mouth.

“I should investigate number 7.”

“Yeah I mean nobody lives there where I am-.”

“How do you know anyone lives there where I am?”

“Well, do they?”

“I don't know.”

“That's why you need to investigate.”

“Nobody lives on your side of the apartment yet here we are.”

You're being intentionally obtuse, you'd vaguely spoken about this before but your voice is raising frustration making your voice wobble, you don't want to deal with this right now.

He's quiet and the silence lingers as you lean your head back closing your eyes.

“So how was work?”

You crack an eye and look at the scar.

“I thought you were reading.”

“I was. Until someone disturbed the peace.”

He's such a shit. You don't respond again, trying to breath away the brewing tension headache

“Any plans for the weekend? “

You sigh loudly, sitting up and looking around.

You crack down the centre a little, the sparse room only a reminder of all the things you still need and will have to go without for another 4 weeks.

“No.”

“Want to hang out or something. We could have a movie night.”

A breathless laugh leaves you. Like you could even avoid each other.

“How would that even work?”

You had planned to make cookies as some sort of peace offering before going next door, if people elsewhere in the building had come to you to complain then anyone who was in there definitely heard.

But ingredients are expensive.

As you approach the apartment your door seems so far away, it's odd being on this side and makes you realise just how close together you and Eddie are.

You knock and wait, store bought cookies arranged on a plate and covered in saran wrap in hand.

You hear a scuttle behind the door, like the quick footsteps of a child before it creaks open slowly.

“Oh, hi”

The emerging face is low like you had expected but instead of the smooth face of a child, an elderly woman peers at you from the growing space in the door. Boney fingers wrap round the edges as she reveals herself.

You introduce yourself, cringing at the fact you're using your work voice on a weekend.

She doesn't respond, merely stares at you with light blue eyes, and a smile on her face that shows no teeth but deepens the creases on her thin skin.

“I'm sorry if we've.. I've been loud. ”

Her eyes widen at your mistake but she still doesn't respond, her stare unwavering her thin lipped smile the same.

“ Bea?”

A woman around your age appears in the doorway behind her and gives you a warm grin.

“Hi, can I help?”

Eyes pulling away from the older woman, you work your jaw for a moment as you feel her eyes still on you.

“I brought some cookies, I live next door, I moved in a few weeks ago”you fumble.

“Oh, that's so kind isn't it Bea, why don't you come in”

“Oh no it's okay-”

“No, I insist.” the way she says it is firm and she leaves you holding the plate in the doorway as she gently manoeuvres the old woman away.

Shit.

As you step through the doorway the smell of patchouli hits you so heavily that you feel like it's sinking into your skin.

Closing the door hesitantly behind you, you're hyper aware that you're now sealed off from the hallway which has the same deep red walls as the enormous room you now stand in.

Shelves clink softly as you walk into the middle of the open plan room.

Soulless taxidermy joins the elderly woman in watching you as you make your way over to them.

“We don't get many visitors, do we Bea?” says the younger woman and Bea whispers something back as she helps her into her seat and she gives her a wry smile.

Taking the plate from you she motions for you to sit.

“Always surprising me, she's quicker than she looks. Could obviously smell desert.” she laughs as she turns away.

“Yeah” you trail off, turning to glance at the elderly woman, who's still smiling, still staring, fingers drumming against the linen tablecloth.

“Well I'm Nell, and this is Bea, I live upstairs.”

“Oh, how long have you lived here?” you say fidgeting in the hard seat, trying to ignore the way the woman's stare is boring a hole into you.

She chuckles, “Around 6 years now and Beas been here forever.”

Bea mutters something to Nell you can't catch and she laughs before patting her arm and placing a cookie on a small plate in front of her.

She offers you one and settles herself down, the collection of bangles jingling as she pours sweet tea into faded china cups for you all.

Bea picks up the cookie with trembling hands and breaks it apart before popping them between her lips, still staring.

The more you look around trying to avoid eye contact the more you find other pairs watching you, paintings, preserved animals. Jars.

Nells chatting absentmindedly and you make sounds of agreement while you pretend to listen and try to swallow the dry treat down.

At the far end of the room, the floors raised a little, a double bed flush against the wall with yellow heavy curtains draped over the posts.

Shelves and units surround it built into the wall and filled with multitudes more off-putting belongings.

It's your wall.

Your eyes track back to Bea and she's grinning now teeth on show, and you have the sudden feeling that you need to leave and it makes your heart flutter.

“She likes you,” Nell says with a chuckle and Bea grins wide.

“Marco.” Eddie's voice reverberates down towards you as you slowly walk the line of the scar. Bare feet toe to toe eyes trained up.

In soft clothes and bare faced you'd had two showers since going next door and you still feel like you can smell it on you.

“Polo.”

You listen carefully for where his voice is the loudest.

Walking the same path as you, he does the same so you don't have to yell while you watch Donny Darco.

“It made my skin crawl, they were everywhere and she just sat and stared at me. I don't think I saw her blink.”

“Maybe she's a skin walker or oh maybe-”

“You're far too excited about this.”

“Come on, she's an old lady.”

“You didn't see her Eddie, something was off.”

“Here?” He says voice ringing out clear.

“Sounds good.”

You drop a pile of blankets and pillows against the kitchen counter, thankful for the barrier between you and the back wall.

You get comfortable opening your laptop when you hear the distinct sound of something heavy being dragged.

“What are you doing?”

“Moving the couch and stuff,” he says voice strained and you can't help the smile that slips out at the sound of it.

“Just sit on the floor.”

“I'm not an animal.”

“I'm sitting on the floor.”

“Exactly.”

“Hey.”

His cackle rings out above you.

“You done?”

“Yeah, think so.”

You hear him groan as he settles in and you set up the movie up ready.

It takes a few times to get the start right. Both having to forward it to the same point and you wonder if the movie will have changed over time or whatever this was.

You stretch out and lean back as you hear the echoing sound of the opening scene and for a minute you can pretend that it's not weird or supernatural and you just have a friend.

For all the effort it takes to get them lined up it turns to chaos, fairly quickly as lines change or are delivered wrong by surprisingly, still Jake Gyllenhaal which turns into another whole thing.

Cackling so hard at the contrasting lines at one point you have to leave to use the toilet, with your grin still making your jaw ache, it passes you by that the oppressive walls of the bathroom aren't making your skin crawl like usual, as you listen to him ranting to himself.

The movie ends but you both carry on speaking until your back starts to ache from the odd angle you've fallen into.

“Shit it's late”, you groan as you sit up. “This was fun.”

“It was,” he says his own yawn audible in his voice and you look over the barely lit room wondering where he would be if he was arranged in the space around you.

You get up, abandoning your empty snack bowls and laptop and dragging your makeshift nest to your room, the light from the lamp in your bedroom quickly submerging the shadows.

“Oh shit.” Eddie's voice comes from the darkness of the other room and you turn to stare into it.

“What happened?”

He groans loudly, “Nothing, I'll clean it in the morning.”

You grimace to yourself wondering what terrible choice of snack he'd knocked over.

“Night Eddie.” You say pulling the door closed.

“Night sweetheart.”

The nickname makes you pause just short of closing the door, all movement stops from behind it and you wonder for a moment if he's left before pulling it closed.

The sheets are still warm from where your giggling body had been nestled into them and with the dopamine still lingering, you climb in and drift easily.

“Marco?” The voice is muffled and you groan as you shift.

“Polo?” You groggily say eyes still heavy.

Drip

The sound finds you with its usual bolt of adrenaline and your eyes snap open.

At least there's nothing on the ceiling.

You pad slowly over to the door and lean against it ready to squeeze through, when it opens easily and you stumble forward.

You walk out turning to see the bookshelves moved over to the side no longer blocking the door.

Evidence of your night is floating in the puddle, his tv now fused with the counter and his couch slowly soaking in the black around the bottom. Nuts and popcorn are scattered over the floor by an upturned bowl and are slowly being swallowed.

You lean down watching how the pieces stick out, slowly fading with every drop.

“I wouldn't touch that.”

You almost slip into it, quickly steadying yourself and glowering back at him.

He's got a shit eating grin on his face despite the way he's rubbing his tired eyes.

“I see you dressed for the occasion this time.” you say still a little breathless.

He looks down at himself to the grey sweatpants and an old band shirt where the motifs peeling away so you can't make it out anymore.

“Well I didn't pass out on the couch, so.”

He's more disarming like this with hair sticking out, face a little tired, tattoos sprawling up under his sleeves. He's less stiff, the almost permanent scowl he wore last time gone.

He runs his hands through his hair and looks around eyeing the slowly sinking snacks in the black puddle.

“It's changing, like with what we do in the day.”

You walk over to behind the counter, swallowing at the sight of the floor, only a few inches visible between it and the darkness of the back wall.

“Come on.”

You walk through the wall of light to his side and check for any changes.

But everything is the same, the only changes are the evidence of his life within the space.

You come full circle both coming out the other side to face the abyss again.

“Why is it only my side?” you whine looking at the nightmare factory before you.

“You dont think she's making it, do you?”

“Who?”

“Grandma death.” He says a little chuckle in his voice.

When you don't respond he turns to you, calling your name softly as you recall the shadows slithering on the ceiling in your dreams.

How did you know they were smiling? Her face flashes in your mind's eye.

“Have you had any other weird dreams while you've lived here?”

“Other than this” he laughs but his face falls a little as you look up at him.

“No, well I mean, nothing like this.”

Nodding, head swimming, you walk over to your couch curling into yourself and peering at the darkness of the wall behind it.

“So what do we do now?”

“I don't know. Wait, I guess.”

The couch bounces as he sits down heavily on the other end.

“So. How's the world?”

“How's the world?”

He shrugs and you exhale sharply out your nose.

“Kind of a loaded question, guess it depends who you ask. How's the 90s?”

“Ohhh you know, shit.”

Drip

The laugh you let out is hollow as you stare into the blackness and you can't pinpoint why but your vision mists, tears threatening to spill over.

“Tell me something fun.” your voice is thick around the lump in your throat, if he notices he graciously ignores it.

“About myself?”

“Anything.”

“Okay uh, I'm in a band”

You turn your head a smile tugging at you lips despite your glossy eyes remaining

“That's the least surprising thing you could have told me. ”

He makes a face.

Drip

“Not in a bad way. Okay let me guess.” you squint, assessing him and he sits up a little taller under your gaze.

“Grunge.”

“Metal.”

“Ah, potayto, potahto”

He’s about to rant, you can tell by the flare of his nostrils and your smile turns to a full grin.

He deflates squinting back.

“Your fucking with me.”

“What are you called? I'll have to look you up”

He preens at that “Corroded Coffin.”

“Nice.”

“Thank you. We're actually on hiatus, our bassist knocked his girl up. Band practice doesn't fit with the kids schedule.” he says, tipping his head towards you.

Drip

“How unreasonable.”

“Right.”

“Moved here thinking it would be better for the band.”

“To the place you can't afford.” The words come out quicker than you can think but thankfully he chuckles.

“Uh yeah, it wasn't just me to start, had a housemate. Girlfriend.” He looks away scratching his jaw. “They sort of. Left together.”

“Shit, sorry Eddie, I didn't mean to-” he waves you off.

“What about you?”

Drip

Your stomach curdles.

“What about me?”

“No other people.”

It's your turn to avoid his gaze and you gesture around you.

“No, I mean-”

A sound from the abyss cuts him off, the sheer volume so loud you can feel it in the empty spaces in your chest, it sends you both off the couch and scrambling away.

Nothing changed, as you look up, wincing you cover your ears and slowly move towards it.

“What are you doing?”

You faintly make out Eddie’s yelling but you keep moving, your heart pounds as the liquid on your kitchen floor comes into view, vibrating where it's met the abyss.

The sound stops as quickly as it came, the absence leaving your ears ringing and you jump as Eddie arrives next to you.

He follows your gaze to where the darkness has met.

“That's not good.”

Tag list: @munsonburn3r @winchester-angel @kellsck let me know if you would like to be added <3

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #stranger things #knock knock #my writing #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #afab reader

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waterfallofspace · 3 months

Text

A Word-Filled Update

that no one's asking forrrr~

Sooooo, hiya~ ^^

Realized I kinda dropped out without much word, and wanted to give a lil update to anyone who may care, (and specifically to all the unfilled requests that have been sat in my inbox for months now T~T)

Dropping it under a cut because it gets quite long~ but I'll also TL;DR it with: been a bit burnt out, trying to get back into this, I apologize for all the unanswered asks, and I will be trying to get to the ones I can, but I'll be focusing more on trying to enjoy the process of making content~ Thank you to anyone who's stuck around <3

(Tw for brief mention of mental health/neurodivergencies~ nothing in depth or dark, but just incase anyone wants to avoid that <3)

Nothing serious has been going on, mostly just burn out and a bit of drama in main friend group, combined with free time just being a lot more limited recently~ (not a bad thing, most of it is because I'm getting to talk more with friends I've gotten closer to this past year~)

That said, I've been trying to get back into content, making it, reblogging it, etc, without letting it become all-consuming. I find, with the way my brain works, mostly to do to some wonderful neurodivergent tendencies, I tend to fall heavily into 'all of nothing' mentality.

This shows up in my day to day life, (ie: can't wash the dishes for weeks until I suddenly do them all in one day) and I've definitely noticed it with content creation. Need to write and finish a story in one go, record a wav as fast as possible, always afraid I'll lose that motivation.

But honestly? I love making content on here! And I'm not a huge blog, nor do I care if I am (at least trying not to, if I'm being painfully honest~) but I genuinely love making content. Whether it's just for me, a request that I am hoping one specific person will enjoy, or a story I write with a community in mind, I just love creating~

So, I'm trying to ease my way back into this! Bit by bit, let it be fun, and enjoyable, with less internal pressure to produce as much as I can, as fast as I can, and make it be perfect.

I won't lie and say 'numbers don't matter to me', if I'm honest, they do. But I'm learning more and more how to let it be about the content, and to just enjoy the process~ (and if people like it, that'll be a wonderful bonus!~)

Wooo this is getting so long, I apologize sincerely! Last thing, something I've mentioned a few times previously but never really let myself get into... requests~

I'm so honoured that people care about my content enough to have asked for things, and getting any ask, request, praise, ask lists, heck even just a 'hi!' is honestly the best part of this blog for me!

Buuuut, I definitely worked myself into burn-out before with a "every request needs to be filled and fast" mentality, that led to just... not filling any.

So! I'm going back through my inbox, and deleting some older ones that I don't have a clear vision/motivation for. I apologize to anyone who requested them, though by now it's possible they're long gone~ But I think this will help me not only start enjoying the creation process without feeling so overwhelmed, but also start actually getting more content made~

There are definitely a bunch that I still adore, and am thrilled to get to test out, but if there's one you remember sending, and you really want to see it completed, please feel free to send another ask saying what it is you want done, and I'll see if I can get that going <3

And if you've stuck it out to the end here- uh hi! ^^ I'm sorry this is so long, I'm such a words person, but I appreciate you so much, not just for any support you've offered, but just bothering to read this <3 I genuinely didn't expect most to make it this far, so thank you so deeply <3 and I hope to see you guys around as I start reblogging stuff more!~

#waterfalltalks #waterfallrambles #more like waterfallparagraphs im so sorry hahaha #been thinking about making this for awhile- but always felt so anxious???#idk why specifically... maybe cause i cant be short to save my life #or maybe because it feels like ive left it too long?? been promising so much and never fulfilling #but i am gonna try!! not to fulfill everything but- to start enjoying it again #i worry this comes off like i have an ego... i really dont haha~ i dont expect anyone to really interact with my blog or care #it was always meant to be for ME- and i just hoped to create things ID enjoy and that #if anyone else enjoyed it too that i could start giving back to the community thats given me so much content ive adored #anyways this is a LONNNGGG post and so are these tags hahaha~#using this blog as a journal again i think! but its mine! so okay! im gonna let myself!#gonna add here too that i might be reblogging with shorter tags for a bit- i promise its not cause im not excited!!!#just trying to make it the least overwhelming situation so i can start really getting back into ENJOYING it~#thank you to anyone who read this far and a huge thank you to all my friends from here and anyone who stuck around <3 #i appreciate and love you all so dearly <333 #not snz

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