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#i am trying so so so so so so hard i swear i am
kpopnstarwars · 3 days
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Who's Afraid of Little Old Me?: Feyd-Rautha x Reader
A/N: ty taylor swift i attempted to base this fic on your song but then i divulged as normal
tw: 18+, smut, p in v, inkpie, oral (both recieving), sub feyd by which i mean feyd is DOMMED, spit, degradation + praise, one spank kinda, swearing, lil bit of crying, mention of evil baron activities so sa + pedophilia, tiny mention of cheating but none actually happens, lmk if there's anything else bc lbr there probably is i just forgot it
wc: 3.9k
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Feyd-Rautha has gravely underestimated you.
It is true that you are not strong in terms of Harkonnen definitions, but you expected a man destined to father the Kwisatz Haderach to be able to see past that. What was that the Bene Gesserit were saying about superior genetics? You don’t see even a glimpse of that in his frosty gaze when he regards you - he looks at you as if you’re a delicate vase that may shatter in the lightest of breezes. He thinks he needs to fear breaking you.
He misses how you miss nothing.
You are not Bene Gesserit; you are merely one of their pawns, a genetic machination produced from centuries of manipulations and deceptions, but you can read a man better than the majority of their number.
The seething jealousy in the clenching off Glossu Rabban’s fists is like a monster sinking its venom laced fangs into his heart: starkly evident to you - as evident as the barely repressed, parasitic fear of inadequacy that lurks like a second beast within the first. Just the same, the gazes the Baron sends your husband do not escape you. Nor does the caged, wild look that washes over him whenever you leave his uncle’s chambers: the look of a man who inside is still a boy, relief washing over him that he has left unscathed and untouched for another time.
Even more nuanced than that, you see the vulnerability within Feyd-Rautha. He craves to be loved, the way he should have been as a child, when instead he was desired; all this at an age where the most he should have been doing was playing with carved wooden toys at his parent’s feet.
He believes no one can see the last, soft sliver of his heart that he’s fought to preserve, that wants nothing but to have someone to be vulnerable with, just because he’s buried it so deep inside of him that sometimes even he doesn’t think it’s there any more.
But you see it.
You see beneath it too, to a place that he himself is not fully aware of. A place where he hates who he has become - a wild, savage creature, bleeding from wounds that do not seem to close up, slipping in its own blood when no one can see.
It’s from here, from this place, that the urge to preserve you somehow originates. He thinks you are a flower whose petals will easily be crushed in his heavy, calloused hands, and he is wrong; in a strange way it endears you to him, that he believes that he is too rough to hold you. You do not think it is quite love - not yet, at least, it is only the third month of your marriage - but when you see him fighting to not be the beast that he is before you in an effort to spare you, something that is not just pity stirs in your heart.
You can hear him now, pacing, cursing under his breath in the antechambers. Sometimes he sleeps there, on the narrow sofa, and you’ve come to realise it is those nights when he wants you most. Aside from your wedding night, he has made no other attempts to produce an heir, and you find his restraint valiant, but stupid.
He could try as hard as he liked; he would not get anywhere close to breaking you.
Rising from your seat on the small, ornate stool at the vanity, you push open the door to the antechamber and take a step into the room. Feyd pauses his pacing with his back to you, and you can see the tension in his shoulders and the rigid way he holds his body before he turns around to face you. His pupils are dilated, his eyes dark, and you watch him regard you with something too untethered to be restraint.
‘Am I keeping you awake, wife?’
You shake your head. ‘I had not retired yet.’
You know he expects you to explain why you’ve interrupted him, but you remain quiet - your silence is as much of a tool as your words. He doesn’t speak either, but his eyes tell you enough; they do not leave your frame, hungry, torrid, and his fingers twitch as if they ache to slip you out of the simple shift you wear to sleep and touch you everywhere, to explore the curves and dips of your body.
Tilting your head, you smirk. ‘If you wish to give me your heirs, husband, I would advise another method that differs from staring one into me.’
‘You don’t know what I want,’ he growls, but his face tells other tales.
Stepping forward, you reach out to him but he backs away. Still, the sheer thirst in his eyes sears away at you, even as his actions fight against it, his fingers closing on the doorknob. His hands are steady, his shoulders too, but the tightness in his muscles betrays him as always. Usually, you’d let him go now, but tonight you wish to see how far he will let you push him before he pushes back, so you snare his forearm in your fingers, tugging at him as he turns the knob.
He doesn’t look at you. ‘Don’t test me.’
You smile, cloyingly so. ‘Why not?’
Lightly, you trace your fingers down his chest, straightening the fabric of his black shirt while you gaze thoughtfully up at him through your lashes, lips curving upwards at the indecision in his eyes. He fights it, wrestles with the burning need, but in the end, he prevails, transforming it into a streak of anger that colours his voice as he tears himself from your grasp, recoiling as if your touch ignites pain within him - and maybe it is pain, that he wants you so but fears to indulge himself.
‘Get away from me.’
Feyd-Rautha does not give you a second to do so, because he is the one haring down the dimly lit corridor, his jaw tight, nails digging into his palms. Truthfully, you have never seen him move that fast, not even in the arena, and it almost makes you laugh - the great na-Baron fleeing from his wife and his own lecherous thoughts.
Maybe you did not win this round of tug of war, but he has asked something of you - to get away from him. Over the next few weeks, you follow this to the letter, avoiding him like the plague; you do not interrupt his pacing in the antechambers, nor do you haunt the bedroom like you normally do, asking him questions that he cannot answer. Feyd-Rautha is sensitive to change and you know he will seek the reason for it.
There is a barely cloaked intensity in his eyes when he finally corners you, and under it, you detect recognition: he sees that you are not who he thought you were, and he sees that you are not so different from him - always observing, always planning, and so, mind shatteringly hungry.
You were just dropping by the bed chambers to gather some of your clothes. The night before, you’d relocated yourself to one of the guest bedrooms - you could sense Feyd’s resolve cracking, and you knew that this would break it for certain: coming into his chambers to find them empty, wifeless, your side of the bed damningly cold. Jealousy is clear in his eyes as he backs you against the vanity, filling you with a rising sense of triumph.
‘What has caused this change in your behaviour, wife?’
You raise a brow, faking confusion. ‘What change? I would argue it is your behaviour that has changed, Feyd, you who can barely stand to be in a room alone with me.’
He snarls. ‘Who were you with last night?’
‘I thought you wanted me to get away from you,’ you reply, keeping up your pretence a little longer. ‘I slept in the guest quarters. You do not reciprocate any of my advances.’
‘Advances?’ He echoes, incredulous. ‘You taunt me, wife. It’s like you want me to break you.’
Cocking your head, you regard him coolly for a moment, letting some of the sharpness of your unmasked gaze leak through, letting him see the calculation in your eyes - you see the wariness it incites in him as he realises again that you are not who he thinks you are. Wordless, you lean in close to him, bringing your face to his, hovering there.
And then you let your arm drop and make a swipe for the knife at his belt.
Fast as a viper, he catches your wrist in your fingers, but you smile, challenge in your eyes as you bring his second blade to his neck. You’d slipped it out while he was distracted with your other hand, and he blinks at the cold press of it to his skin.
‘That’s the problem, isn’t it?’ You murmur. ‘You’re not scared of me, you’re scared of breaking me. Who’s afraid of little old me, huh? No one is, Feyd.’
‘They should be,’ he whispers, and when you meet his gaze, it sets you alight.
‘Indeed,’ you reply softly, letting your lower lip brush his.
As he kisses you, his hands seizing your face and locking you to him, you hook his knife’s blade in the collar of his shirt and drag it down, slicing the fabric until it flutters to the floor. Pulling away, you take him in - the moonlight planes of his sculpted chest, the broadness of his shoulders, his roiling, keen gaze. This man whets your appetite in the darkest kinds of ways: you cannot wait to ruin him.
Absently, you trace the outline of the tent in his pants with the tip of the knife blade. A breathy noise leaves him, and he freezes as if he can feel the cold kiss of the metal against his skin; you laugh, delighted that he is so mouldable in your hands.
‘Get on your knees,’ you command, seating yourself on the end of the bed.
It’s captivating, his lack of hesitation as he follows your orders. He sits back on his heels, looking up at you, and you can tell that he’s letting you see him like this, you can tell that if he didn’t want you to have him like this, you wouldn’t, but still, you reach out, gently skimming his shoulder with your fingertips.
‘All you have to do is say, and I will stop,’ you say.
He dips his chin. ‘I do not think I’ll have to.’
You smirk, something savage and powerful and thrillingly depraved rearing its head inside you, awakened by the sight of the na-Baron kneeling at your feet. That will be his last coherent sentence tonight.
Pausing, making him wait, you lean down a little, inspecting his features, the ardour in his eyes. He looks at you as if you hold the universe in your hands, as if you hung the stars in his sky, as if you are a  goddess, and he wants nothing but to worship you until he is expended.
You spit on him.
It lands on his cheek, and his eyes widen a fraction. A shudder wracks his body, and he simply stares up at you, breathing heavy, before slowly, his lips part, and he sticks out his tongue, his request evident. You grab his jaw, squeezing so that he opens up wider, and spit in his mouth - the low groan that leaves him as he swallows is fucking delectable.
His cock twitches in his pants when you pick up the knife. Tracing the blade over the shell of his ear, over his cheekbone and over his lips, you marvel at the way he holds still, awaiting what you’ll inflict on him next like a good little toy.
When the metal reaches his jaw, you nick the skin, drinking up his sharp intake of breath and the clench of his fists as the blood trickles down the column of his throat; you catch the droplet of crimson on your tongue, licking a careful stripe up his neck, grinning when you catch his lips in a kiss and he trembles at the taste of his own blood. Feyd is greedy, his tongue brushing against yours as he leans up into your touch, the way his mouth works against yours hot, fervent, pleading.
Planting a palm to his sternum, you push him back, chuckling when he strains to follow you, eyes glazed, lips swollen. You spot a streak of red and swipe your thumb over his lower lip, wiping it off before standing.
‘Get up, strip, and get on the bed,’ you bid him, pulling your own shift over your head.
Feyd scrambles to follow your orders, yanking his pants down, and you take your time to admire his muscle sheathed body; strength ripples beneath his skin, a sweet dichotomy to his weeping cock, rock hard and flushed rosy. He halts his movements, as if he’s pinned down by your appraising gaze.
‘For whom do you wait, husband?’
As he turns to get onto the bed, he’s a little too slow and you swat at his ass. A choked sound leaves him, and you laugh at the way his knees almost buckle. Feyd’s ears run red when he lies down on the mattress, and you straddle his thighs, sneering at the way he twists his fingers in the sheets, squirming beneath you.
‘Pathetic.’
You don’t give him time to respond, instead wrapping your fingers around his cock and pumping up and down fast, and he gasps at your rough touch, his back arching and his hands coming up to touch you - you wave them off you, meeting his eyes.
‘No touching,’ you intone, the hint of warning in your voice enough to render him obedient.
This time, you take his cock head in your mouth. He’s so fucking sensitive, reacting as if the sweep of your thumb down the underside of him and the slide of your tongue over him is mind shattering; it doesn’t take you long to get him teetering at the edge of his orgasm, just for you to pull away at the last moment.
His thigh jolts, weak pleas of your name leaving his lips, gripping the sheets so hard you wonder if they’ll rip. Again, you take him in your mouth, deeper, one hand dipping to play with his balls; you revel in the wretched sound that he makes when you hollow your cheeks around him, your teeth grazing up his length. You toy with him until you think he’s moments from breaking, until he’s writhing upon the sheets, face contorted in pleasure loaded with sweet, sweet agony.
‘Please let me come,’ he whimpers, voice cracking, the look in his eyes crazed, pitiful. ‘Please.’
You decide to give it to him, jerking him brutally fast until he comes; it hits him like a tidal wave - his eyes roll back in his skull, his body tensing, rigid and impossibly taut before he goes boneless, a broken cry of your name on his lips as he spills all over his stomach. A single, ecstatic tear slides down his cheek as his orgasm seizes him, snatching him up and shaking him like a ragdoll.
Lingering at his side, you wait until he’s come down from his high before getting up to retrieve a damp cloth from the bathroom, perching on the bed beside him and cleaning up his come, pressing kisses to the surprisingly soft skin of his hips. One wavering hand comes to rest in your hair, and you glance up at him, biting back a smug grin at the dazed look in his eyes.
‘Feeling okay?’
He nods.
‘Words,’ you chide.
‘Y - yes, na-Baroness. Better than okay.’
You raise a brow at that. You did not specify for him to call  you anything, so this is all his doing; he fidgets beneath your gaze, and you note that he’s growing hard again, his cock stiffening between his thighs.
‘Can I…’ He begins, but trails off, thinking better of it.
‘No, little na-Baron,’ you reply coyly. ‘Tell me what you desire.’
His eyes scorch you with their yearning. ‘I want to taste you, na-Baroness.’
You smile. ‘As you wish.’
You lean back against the pillows, letting your legs fall open for him. It’s somewhat comical, the way his eyes widen as he sees your slick cunt, and he swallows harshly - you can almost sense his mouth watering. Carefully, reverently, almost, he nudges your knees over his wide shoulders, bringing his face close to your pussy, admiring you. It’s as if he’s testing himself, waiting to see how long it takes for him to break and taste you.
Lurching forward, Feyd groans, low and deep and right against your clit when he laps at your heat, quickly becoming insatiable as his tongue moves masterfully at the apex of your legs, laving over your clit and curving in and out of you. Bolts of pleasure spear through your body, fierce like crackling lightning at the eye of a storm - he is everything to you in this moment. He shatters you, breaking you and mending you anew.
As he brings you closer, your body begins to shake and your legs close around his head; you suffocate him with your thighs, and you can tell he lives for it from the way he fervently grips your ass in his large hands, kneading the flesh and moaning into your pussy.
Something pulls tight within you, deliciously so, and you cry his name in warning, fingers curling around the base of his neck to hold him still as your hips buck, rutting into his face. Dimly, you can see him grinding into the mattress as you fuck yourself on his tongue - the chafe of his nose against your clit makes you shatter, and you fall apart for him with a ragged cry, nails digging into his shoulders.
You’re still coming down from it when Feyd begins to lap at you again, dutifully cleaning you up, and you twitch with the slight overstimulation, hooking a finger under his chin to see his eyes: his gaze is loaded with the heat of a thousand suns, and yet somehow it is also bleary, drunk. A laugh escapes you, and you tug at his hand, encouraging him to lie beside you.
‘Good boy,’ you hum as he nuzzles into your touch. You can feel him achingly hard against your thigh, and you let yourself catch your breath before reaching down and wrapping your fingers around his cock. ‘Want to fuck me now, hm?’
He nods avidly. ‘Yes, na-Baroness.’
All it takes is for you to half spread your legs before he’s climbing eagerly between them, hesitating before looking up at you for permission. You dip your chin, smirking, and then he’s sinking into you, burying himself inside you.
Voice cracking, Feyd chokes out your name, and he shudders, gasping at the velvet vice of your cunt as it clenches, bearing down on him. Sharply, you rock your hips up to meet his, and this time, a soft, keening whine leaves him, and he squeezes his eyes shut, biting down hard on his lower lip.
He can barely keep himself from spilling inside you.
‘You can barely hold it, can’t you, my little na-Baron?’
His words come out jumbled, his speech scrambled, mind ground to a standstill by the all consuming heat of your cunt; he babbles out protests, saying that he can, desperate to prove he can, stammering that he wants to make you feel good.
Cruelly, you buck your hips up against his again, and a pained sound looses from his chest, but he thrusts to meet you, hips lurching forward, his arms almost buckling either side of your head. Panting, he pulls out slowly before slamming back in, unable to stifle the whimper that tears from the back of his throat when you rake your nails down his shoulder blades, claiming him, littering his shoulders and neck with bites.
‘That’s it,’ you sigh as he finds his pace. ‘Just like that, good boy.’
A strangled noise tears itself from him at your praise, and he fucks into you, frantic, almost feral. Eventually, his thrusts begin to turn sloppy, and you kiss him in order to steal his breath and taste his fervid moans of your name on your tongue as he comes deep inside you.
Pressing a palm to his lower back, you pin him there, buried snugly within your pussy as you reach down with your other hand and rub your clit hard - it takes but a moment for you to come, and he writhes at the cataclysmic feel of your walls fluttering around him, overstimulating him, his mouth falling open in a silent cry as he comes again with your cunt milking his cock.
Completely spent, Feyd goes limp, and you rub your hand over his back, smoothing circles on his skin with your lips to his forehead. The post orgasm clarity begins to hit him, and you feel him go rigid - slowly, he pulls out, his seed leaking out now that he’s not filling you, and he attempts to get up, but his legs are too weak and he collapses beside you instead, his chest heaving, his eyes still a little hazy, still fucked out, even as he fights for lucidity.
There’s something on his face that cuts at your heart - a look of expectancy, as if he’s waiting for you to get up and leave now that you’ve had your fill of him. Concerned, you reach out, and he leans away from your touch.
‘Feyd,’ you murmur. ‘It was not too much, was it?’
‘N - no,’ he replies. ‘I just…’
Sitting up slowly, you look him right in the eyes. He stares back, bewildered, but you press a finger to his lips, foregoing your own fumbling words to instead recite the pledge of allegiance of a Harkonnen soldier to their general; his eyes widen - you know you have hit home. You’d exchanged wedding vows, of course, but these have a different meaning: you see it in the respectful way it is uttered, a soldier acknowledging his superior’s presence.
You pledge to him not only your heart, but your sword - your service - too.
‘Wife,’ Feyd bites out. ‘Surely you do not mean - ’
‘I mean it,’ you cut in. ‘Every word.’
Again, you reach for him, and this time he does not flinch away, letting you tuck him close to you, his breath coming out shaky. Gently, you tip up his chin, planting a chaste kiss on his parted lips, and he returns it slowly, wondrously, no teeth or tongue, just the gentle brush of his mouth against yours: the innocence of it is bittersweet - has anyone ever kissed him this tenderly?
Carefully, you withdraw, wanting to see him, but he does not let you meet his eyes, instead hiding his face in your neck, his lips at the hollow of your throat. You grant him the privacy of not being seen when you feel wetness on your skin, his hot tears tracking down and pooling in your collarbone - his hands ball at his sides, and you pry open his fingers and lace yours with his, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. Tightly, you wrap your arms around him, holding him with a hand cupping the back of his head, cradling him to your chest.
Your voice is quiet in the still air, but it carries as if through an arena, a promise arcing through the air like a soaring arrow.
‘You no longer walk this world alone, Feyd-Rautha.’
best believe when i started writing this i did not anticipate the 2x 'good boy's 🧍
dune taglist: @callumsgirl @oh-you-mean-me @insufferablyunbearable
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sunsbum · 2 days
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THEODORE NOTT, OBSESSED.
cw: SWEARING, p in v, obsessed!theo(obvi), JERKING OFF, n more :)
ps. english is my first language so it might be bad <3 and hes not necessarily as obsessed as i was gonna make him originally but its whatever
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Theo loved boarding school for one reason and one reason only, you.
he sees you every morning at breakfast, you guys have every class together(because he bribed the teachers) and every dinner you guys sit at the same table but at night he spends he lays in his bed jerking off to the thought of you.
running his hands over his pretty pink tip and slit, closing his eyes imaging you were there making him feel good instead of his lousy hand.
after he always felt dirty, like he was a terrible person because he thought of you like that but its not like you would ever know so whats so wrong about it?
one day he fidgeted quietly, legs bouncing. all day he thought about you and asking you a simple question.
he pays attention to the way you talk, the way your face looks when you talk about something you like. you look like a goddess to him.
“i have a question” he interrupted you, “whats up, theo?” you looked at him with confusion in your eye.
“not to be weird and if this is ill shut up immediately, but would you ever fuck me?” his eyebrows furrowed while he nervously waited for your answer.
a small smirk appeared on your face. you left out a small chuckle before answering “i mean yeah we’re friends of course i would but only if you wanted to.”
he took you up on your offer. his cock was basically bruising your cervix, “awh my poor baby am i making you feel good?” you were trying to mumble something but gave up so you end up nodding to fucked out to make out a proper sentence.
he was in heaven but aware enough to make sure not to cum to quick, “thought about this moment for awhile now” he practically moaned out.
“more, more, more, s’ good, mhm” you drag out your words and squirm underneath him.
“such a slut for lettin’ me fuck you like this” your pretty little moans egg him on, keeping him motivated to keep fucking you so perfectly.
“cumming, gonna cum.” you grip onto his hair and move your hips against his. “go ahead, cum for me baby” he pushes into you hard making you see stars.
you whimper and moan as your body gets all limp, legs trembling. he lets out a chuckle and kisses you, he loves seeing you like this, assuring him that he made you feel good.
his thrust don’t stop, your wetness being used as lubricant for him to fuck you nice and good. he’s gonna make this count just incase it doesn’t happen again. he slams into your poor cunt while leaving wet kisses all over your face and neck.
“f-fuck, love you s’ much, angel” his warm load coats your insides, makin’ it drip down your cunt and onto the sheets. “did so good baby, so good.”
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dark-night-hero · 3 days
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hi :'D man your writing of tragedy makes me want to cry and i love it
the first one i read from your works is zhongli losing y/n his mate because he wasnt there when a god wrecked havoc, so i got an idea.
neuvi's old old, and focalors invited him to be the iudex of fontaine right? during his early days in fontaine he struggled so much with interacting with humans. what if, he meets a human (y/n) who doesnt care that their new iudex had come from nowhere, and completely aids neuvi with communicating with humans and they form such a close bond that he doesnt understand, but right as he decides to go for it and ask yn he receives news of a new case ; yn's murder :D
i swear i did not mean for this ask to be long i am so sorry 😭
Humans can be cruel ang cunning creatures. If not then crimes and wars would have never happened. They are beings who are capable of hurting each other for the sake of their own gain. They would not hesitate to use each other and kill each other.
That is the human on Neuvillette, the new iudex of Fontaine. He does not even know why he accepted such invitation. In the first place, his hesrt was distant from the people. His imagine of them was quite... bad. Maybe that was just his discrimination, but the more he get to stand on trial, then more distorted his imagine of mortals become.
And then he met you. You who was a human, but different from the humans that the knew. You were just... different. You do not look at him with fear nor do you look at him with indifference. The way you act around him, you just act like yourself.
He met you in a rainy day, a rainy day after a trial. He was walking unbothered under the rain, when a figure with umbrella started walking towards him. "Ah- Ah! Mister-!" At first, he ignore it despite the softness of the voice whom was talking to him. "Wait-!" He was avoiding people as good as he can. He saw no good in interacting with them.
"Hey!" He was getting pissed to be honest, the rain was getting heavier and once in a while a thunder could be heard. He was ready to brush the person off when suddenly, the rain stopped. There was an umbrella over his head. "Are you crazy! At this rate you're going to get sick!" What? Neuvillette was stunned, letting himself get dragged by this mortal who does not seem to recognise him or did they? "Iudex or not, what are you thinking walking under the pouring rain? Here! Take this umbrella!" After going under some shade, he watch you left him out much thought, he was holding your umbrella as you only have your hands protecting you from the rain.
You are weird. Weird in a good way that does not make sense. Maybe it was a coincidence, but after thatm he kept bumping into you. In his walk in his way into the court and when he was coming back from the court. In the path he talk, you were always there talking to him even though he does not reply. Still, it was strange how with you, he felt comfort.
"It's raining again, and here you are walking under the rain. Seriously, what's with you?" ... "Rather than that, what's with you?" "Me? What's wrong with me?" "You're different from other." "What makes me different from them?" He did not answer after that, for he too does not know what to say. How weird.
You were pretty close to him. He does not know how, but many all those walk together with you was working. In the end, he found himself completely relax and comfortable around you. "Now that I think about it. I'm your only friend, no?" ... "gasp! For real?" "Humans... I found them rather hard to communicate with." After all those trials, he does not know what to think about humans anymore. That is why he found you weird. "Why? Why is that?!" You pout. "Well..." He stopped walking and ponder for a while. "Maybe it's because I have seen mostly the dark side of humans that I cannot seem to know what to think and say to them." He replied after a little while. "Hey! That's totally unfair! If you try hard enough to know more about us there is more than the dark side there is to see!" "Hmmm. I doubt..." "No! Seriously, you jut have to open up your heart to the people and you will see the goodness in their heart." You laugh. To be honest, he does know that. After all, there was no other ways he could describe you but a good person and perhaps, maybe even more than that. But to open his heart to the people other than you... "Right... I'll think about it."
Neuvillette always find it difficult to interact with people. Most of the time he had this instinct to stay away from them. Maybe it has something to do with their origins, he was a high being after all and humans. Humans are just... humans. Nevertheless from the moment he have met you, he knew he was doomed. Doomed to understand humans. From the moment he get to know more of you, the more he mindset starts to change. Maybe... maybe humans are not as bad a he thought them to be.
"Are you okay?" The cafe was not crowded. It was almost midnight when the two of you decided to go into one. "Of course! Why wouldn't I be?" You asked with a smile on your face. Nevertheless Neuvillette did not fail to notice the way your eyes quickly scan the surroundings, the way you seemed to be anxiously playing with your fingers. But then, you are looking at him dead in the eyes telling him you are fine. Maybe it was nothing. "It's getting dark, shall we go?"
That night, Neuvillette decided to give it a try. Maybe just as you said, humans are not bad as he thought they would be. Maybe just like you said, all he need to do is to open his heart to the people and see things in a different perspective. Thinking about it makes his lips curl up, thinking how joyful you would be if he were to tell you that in person. But.
Humans can be cruel ang cunning creatures. If not then crimes and wars would have never happened. They are beings who are capable of hurting each other for the sake of their own gain. They would not hesitate to use each other and kill each other.
"What is this?" His hands were shaking. "Earlier a citizen named (First name) (Lastname) was found mur-?! Monsieur?! Where-" He rush out the room. He run and run and run until he was under the heavy rain. Hands still clenching the piece of goddamn paper with such gruesome, unbelievable concent. No, he would not believe it. He could not believe it. You were just walking with him earlier this day, your smile as too real for it to be unreal. He had just seen you earlier so why? Why are you there sitting in your own pool of blood soaked under the rain?
He could not even approach you, he just watch there along with the other people watching the crime scene get cleaned up like it was nothing. People were looking at you with interest like yu were some kind of entertainment after all. It was the very first case of murder in Fontaine.
Neuvillette could hear nothing under the rain, he just stood there under the same spot even after tour body was taken away. Countless thoughts running in his head. Why? Why does it have to be you? Why do humans never change? Why does t has to be you? Why? Just fucking why you? You asked Neuvillette to give humans a chance. But how could he do that now that he knew humans were the very same being that took you away from him?
Neuvillette did not cry but he just stand there, eyes bloodshot as his lips leak blood from bitting so hard, hands curl into a fist. He was mad, so mad that he wanted to end things right now. He was starting to blame everyone, the world for taking away the only good thing that ever happened to him. In his eyes were those full of hatred and is ready to explode. He would never forgive-
Neuvillette felt a weak thug on his pants, for a moment, he looked down. The first thing he noticed was the blood stained water right in front of him before the child that was holding on into him. "Ha-hydro dragon. Do-don't cry." The child sniff, tears rolling down his cheeks upon saying so.
Neuvillette does not like humans. They are a cruel and cunning being who took away the love of his life before he could even realise it was love. At the same time, these humans were the being that his love one loves very much. "Don't worry." He slowly reach out and pat the little boy's head and magically, he was suddenly dried despite the pouring rain. "The hydro dragon doesn't cry." Just like that, the rain that seemed to be drowning in sadness stopped.
[ⓒdark-night-hero] 2024°
: I think I fucked up. Na bobo ata ako sa sunod sunod na quiz at exam kanina HAHAHA IT'S SO HOT IN THE PH HUHU
: No but seriously I think I fucked up making this asked. HAHAHAHHA did I do it right? Imma delete this na lang charot.
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Hi guys!!1! This is my first time making skins for an MCC team so I'm kind of nervous... But I worked reeeeally hard, so I thought I'd share them! And if any CCs see this you're welcome to use them of course!! Go Green Geckos!! #mc_championship #mcc36 #mccfanart
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↑ massive slash j for everything up there ofc... Unless? Lmao. I swear half of Scott's decision-making w this team colour was based on Xisuma's skin... Memes aside I am genuinely so hyped for this team & this season of MCC in general, I hope Shashwam has fun & everything goes great & extremely silly :D
Anyway uuuuh 10 notes and I'll try actually making these skins, I guess? 👁️👁️ Or someone else can snatch up the idea & make them, probably much faster than I could. Maybe someone's already doing it and nothing is original wheeee
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Cigarettes & Wine | M. Healy | 2
'I think I'll put you in another song, a little glimpse of you before you're gone.'
In which Sadie and Matty can't seem to get along at all. They refuse to see eye-to-eye, but Sadie is starting to find Matty's annoyed face a bit too hot. When faced with conversations about feelings, Sadie can't help but want to run away from it all.
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warnings: implied alcoholism, implied panic attack (not in a written scene), smut (unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), fingering), lots of arguing, they both just spew shite at each other <3.
word count: 6.7k
authors note: lalalalala sadie matty smut lalalalala. so what it's angry (lowkey heartbreaking) smut, its still smut. i rlly had fun writing this and i am sorry for the angst <3 (not rlly x)
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Sadie doesn’t think she’s ever felt anger like she’s feeling right now. The band had just gotten back to their flat after one of their more hectic shows, and George had obviously had the smart idea to go out after said show. Sadie missed out on this night out, feeling like her body was about to collapse inwards, but when the band returned home, loudly, she woke up and immediately seethed. Her anger worsened when she fully woke, she knew what was going on in Matty’s room due to them sharing a wall. Cheap flat means paper thin walls. As each day passes the urge to ask George to switch rooms with her grows.
The pornographic moans and groans paired with the bedframe that is just about banging her bedroom wall down is enough to make Sadie roll out of bed and leave her room with a huff. She almost regrets it when she sees Ross and George basically rolling on the kitchen floor trying to put a frozen pizza in the oven, Adam was standing over the pair just laughing at them. Sadie smirks but then when she hears another bang of Matty’s bedframe come from behind her she mutters a string of angry swear words under her breath. “What does she look like this time?” Is the sentence Sadie uses to make her presence known to the three drunk men in the kitchen.
The boys all look up at her with grimaces on their faces which makes Sadie run a hand down her own, she knows they all want to say “You.” Which makes her reconsider her entire career. She is subjecting herself to something comparable to torture day in, day out. Ever since Sadie had started point blank refusing him sex he was acting crazy, actively seeking out girls who have something in common with her looks wise. She had only started closing herself off because the band was starting to gain traction and she didn’t want anything to end in a messy enough manner for them both to risk their careers. It seemed like a lost cause with the way they were both acting though.
“It’s okay though, we’re having a pizza party.” Ross had somehow manoeuvred from the floor to Sadie’s side, leaning his entire body weight on her. She grunted and moved so the pair of them were leaning on the counter, she looked in his eyes at his extremely slurred words and wondered how he could be this drunk after only being out for two and a half hours. She shook her head with a smirk and snatched the pizza from George, forgetting how much of his weight that Ross was putting on her until he keeled over onto the floor with a giggle.
“Oh my god, Ross.” George pretty much collapses on top of Ross in a fit of drunken giggles and Sadie busies herself with setting the timer on the oven. When she turns around, Adam is stood with his arms open, and she smiles up at him and accepts his invitation for a cuddle. He starts swaying the pair and she can’t help but breathe out a laugh at the song he’s attempting to sing, Sadie has no idea what song he’s actually trying to sing. She tries to pull away when he starts swaying a bit too hard but before she knows it the four of them are on the floor struggling to breathe through their laughs.
When they all sit down on the couch to indulge in their pizza, Sadie hears a door open and close from the hallway. She can’t help the way her eyes roll into her skull, and she suddenly doesn’t want to finish her plate. The way he gets a glass of water, silently, pisses her off beyond belief. He grabs a slice of their pizza and heads back to his room with the water, he notices the silence when he walks in, but he chooses to not make a petty comment. When his bedroom door practically slams shut, Sadie lets out a breath she didn’t know she was even holding in. “George, can I sleep in your room?” He nods with a mouthful of pizza and Sadie heads to her room to grab her water bottle.
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Sadie can’t sleep for George’s excessive snoring, he always fucking snores when he’s drunk. She gets up to fill her already empty water bottle with a sigh, a chill comes over her body when she opens the bedroom door, she immediately connects the dots when she sees Matty hanging out the living room window, cig in hand. She sighs and turns her back on him, flipping the tap to cold and turning it on, she hears him clearing his throat behind her and has to stifle the groan trying to escape her lips. “Bored of your girlfriend in there?”
Matty’s chuckle tastes bitter on his tongue, he despises her immaturity sometimes. When he doesn’t reply, she turns to him and when he gestures her over with his head she sighs, she can’t say no to him, and she loathes it. Sitting down next to him she takes his offer of a cigarette, he also forces the glass of wine he’s cradling into her hand, which she happily downs. He looks at her, she looks out the window. “Can’t sleep?”
“George won’t stop fucking snoring.” Matty smiles at that and hands her his lighter. She hands it back and inhales deeply when her cigarette is lit. The silence between them is the calmest silence they’ve sat in for at least three months, anytime the two have been forced in a room alone the tension has been so palpable you could cut it with a knife. Probably due to the fact they’ve not had sex in three months either. She can’t help but study his face, she hasn’t properly taken him in for a while, she tends to avoid him whenever they aren’t shouting at each other’s faces. He looks exhausted, the way his eyes are heavy set into his face and his mouth is nearly permanently in a frown are the telltale signs, this makes her frown. She leans onto his shoulder and lowers her voice to a whisper, “I’m sorry.”
“What? What for?” She shrugs and he wraps an arm around her shoulders, an attempt to protect her from the cold breeze wafting in through the open window. Hesitating slightly, he leans his head against hers, his lips meeting her messy hair before he does so. She sighs and shuffles a bit closer, having sat at a decent distance from him originally. “Nothing to be sorry for, Sades. I’m sorry.”
“Well, what are you sorry for?”
“I’m not sure either.” At his lack of attempt to actually apologise, she hums, nothing has changed. This conversation isn’t progress.
“I should go back to bed.” Sadie feels Matty’s head shake on top of hers and she snickers slightly, raising her head to face him. Their faces are much closer than they were before which makes Sadie’s heart pick up in pace ever so slightly. She pretends that it doesn’t though. He tries to sneak a glance down at her slightly dry lips, but her eager eyes notice, and she instinctively leans in, she swears she does it without realising. Before she knows it his lips are on hers and every argument they’ve had recently has flown out of her head, replaced by the way his hand feels when it falls to her bare thigh, practically coaxing the goosebumps out of her. Matty pulls away first and Sadie shakes her head. “We can’t. Shouldn’t.”
Silencing her with another kiss, a squeeze on her thigh, and his tongue against her lips, Matty groans into her mouth, begging to be let in. She denies him entrance until his other hand tugs lightly at her hair, drawing involuntary moans from her mouth, gaining him entrance. Readjusting so he’s no longer sitting cross legged on the windowsill Matty drags Sadie by the hips on to his lap. She feels so dirty, Matty had gone from being inside the girl in his bedroom two hours ago to making out with Sadie in the living room, but a sick part of her likes knowing that he’ll always come back to her. The same sick part of her grinds down into Matty’s growing erection, revelling in the way his head thumps against the window behind him. “Fuck, Sades.”
“Did that girl not do it for you? She might look like me, but I bet she doesn’t fuck like me, hmm?” Her hands find the seam of her pyjama top, but she quickly feels him swatting her hands away, wanting to take her top off himself. Doing so with fervour, his lips ghosting her nipples, blowing hot air over them and giving her reaction a sick smile. When his mouth closes around her nipple, a low groan ripples through her throat, she feels the need to get his clothes off of him as soon as possible. “Matty, please.”
“You’re filth. Desperate to fuck me when I’ve got a girl waiting for me.” Matty’s words hit Sadie right in her core, writhing on his lap, desperate for friction. The thin material of Matty’s boxers paired with the lacey material of Sadie’s panties was sending her wild, the feeling against her heat is delicious but she’s growing bored of it. He lifts his hips in a frenzy to rid himself of one of two clothing items keeping them apart, at the rapid friction Sadie moans loudly and squeezes her eyes closed. Letting out a dry laugh, Matty shifts her on his lap, her eyes cast down to his length and her hand automatically wrapped around it, like it was muscle memory. “No, need to be inside you. Won’t last long.”
Sadie feels like her lungs are being squeezed with how breathless she is, frantically shuffling her panties down her legs. Takes himself in one hand, Matty lines himself up and grabs one of Sadie’s hands with the other, she squeezes it as he pushes into her, a whine scraping the inside of her throat before tearing out of her mouth. Matty lets go of her hand and sticks two of his fingers into her open mouth, hissing at her, “You’ve got to be quiet, Sades.”
Whining around his fingers, Sadie bucks her hips into his harshly, Matty lets out a sound akin to a growl. She stops and raises an eyebrow at him, brutally shoving two fingers in his mouth. Feeling his mouth forming into a smirk around her fingers at her smug face, he starts fucking up into her to break her mean demeanour. The way her eyes roll into her head spurs him on, his pace relentless, his tongue licking up and down her fingers to match the pace of his savage thrusts. An urge to hear the noises that Matty clearly wants to make takes over Sadie’s brain, so she rips her fingers out of his mouth and sticks it on his knee behind her, leaning back in his lap to feel him hit her deeper inside. “Can fucking feel you squeezing me, so tight, missed this.”
The fake pout takes over her face without her permission, “Really meant it when you said you wouldn’t last long. Pathetic, I’m not even close.” She’s playing it up and he knows it from the way she tenses her thighs and squeezes his knee until her knuckles turn white. But Matty takes her words as the truth, holding himself off from finishing inside her, picking her up and throwing her onto the couch. Moaning at the way he man-handled her, Sadie can feel the loss of him inside her like he’d just ripped her arm from her torso, her blissed out face was quickly replaced by a glare at the two fingers re-entering her mouth, scowling as his hips snapped back into hers. When he leans down to give her neck an open-mouthed kiss, she snaps around his fingers, into his ear. “Fuck you.”
“I am.” The words uttered into her pliable skin make her arch her back into him. She hates the way he knows her body like he worships upon it everyday on the hour, almost as though he had studied her every atom under a microscope in a lab. Lifting one of her legs over his shoulder, she whimpers at the deeper angle, her walls flutter around him and she can feel the stutter of his hips. “Your filthy cunt is fucking sucking me in. You’re like some kind of witch. Come on, give it to me, Sades, fucking hell.” Staring down at the way a string of saliva connects her mouth to his fingers when he pulls them out at a tantalisingly slow pace gives him an idea. “Open your mouth.”
The compliant side of her does so immediately, moaning at the way his spit crawls down her tongue, he nods, she swallows. The wetness of his fingers immediately reaches between her folds and finds her clit, matching the pace of his persistent thrusts. Her left hand scrapes his spine and her right hand rips at his hair. She loathes the way his hands make her fold, feeling her climax take over her entire soul, her eyes squeezing shut at the feeling. “I fucking hate you so much.”
The tone in which she utters this word has him spilling inside her with a pained groan. The pair hold each other tightly as they both hit their peak, Sadie comes down almost immediately from the way Matty rides out his high inside her, she hisses from the overstimulation. “Fucking hell.” His body collapses on top of hers and she whines at the scraping feeling she feels inside. “Pull out, please.” A muttering of a few more swear words from her mouth pulls him from the cloud he’s found himself on, ripping himself from her. The boy inside of him peers down at the sight of his release spilling from her, she groans and steadies herself at the thought of standing up and cleaning herself up.
“Stay here. I’ll be right back.” Her eyes fixate on the torn up skin of his back as he pulls his boxers back on and sneaks into the bathroom. When he emerges, he smirks at Sadie’s sleeping figure on the couch, her deep-set eyes gently fluttering as she gives in, her dark eyelashes resting upon the cheeks. The one word ringing in his mind, beautiful, is giving him a headache. He rubs at her bare thigh in a soft attempt to wake her up, between whispers of different variants of her name. “Just cleaning you up, darling.” She gently whines and rolls over.
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“Why are you asleep on the couch?” George is hanging over her like a bad smell, looking down at her with a raised eyebrow, she groans and pushes his face away with a stretch. The sudden memories of the previous night climb into her brain and start to take over, sneaking a glance down, she smirks at the sight of the cushions propped up gently and her clothes on her body. The slight bliss that was beginning to take over her being is interrupted by an unrecognisable, shrill laugh at the kitchen island. George silently communicates at her to keep her mouth shut.
“Morning, Sades! Bacon roll?” At Matty’s chipper tone, George knows all he needs to know, cradling his forehead in his hand. She snorts and sits up, finally getting a look at the girl who was clearly not good enough for Matty. Sadie would describe the girl as ‘nice’, nothing more and nothing less. She looks nice. Matty doesn’t like nice. The other two boys are sat at the kitchen island too, stuffing bacon in their mouths like it’s going to make their hangovers magically disappear. Sadie circles round the couch to stand behind Ross, giving Matty a curt nod before sitting on the last spare seat, right next to this unknown girl.
“I’m Sadie. Who are you?” Adam covers his laugh with a cough, George groans into his hand, Ross is blissfully unaware, and Matty has to stop himself from whipping around to shout at the girl. The poor, innocent girl looks round at Sadie like she’d just shot her dog. A shit eating grin overtakes her mouth, smiling up at Matty as he places a bacon roll in front of her. “Thank you very much! Smells so good!” The tone of her voice makes Adam’s laugh finally escape his mouth, when Miss Unknown turns to him, brows furrowed, he panics.
“Oh, we have fun here.” Sadie opts for taking a bite so none of her laughter sneaks out. What a shit excuse, Adam.
“I’m Daisy, it’s, erm, nice to meet you?” No words. Sadie has no words. Daisy is basically Sadie rearranged. She politely nods at Daisy and turns to face forward in her seat, no longer wanting to interact with anyone. She feels a dull ache in her chest as she watches the way Matty talks to Daisy, a miniscule part of her brain is begging him to look at her. He doesn’t, instead turning back to the pan and humming a merry tune. Sadie is practically snarling at his back, knowing that her very nails have left marks on the hidden skin. That’s all it is. Hidden. Matty clearly has a sudden thought with the way his movements stop.
“Want any sauce, darling?” Sadie doesn’t know what happened, she’ll claim to have blacked out.
“No thanks, Matty.” Her eyes widen. Daisy nearly chokes on her breakfast, poor girl. As if on auto-pilot, Sadie’s feet drag her to her bedroom, completely abandoning her breakfast. She’s sure they all heard the scream she forced into her pillow.
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The moon is the only thing lighting up Sadie’s room, the hopeful gleam staring right in her window. The Smashing Pumpkins ‘Oceania’ is humming into her ears as she edits a few photos from the night before, specifically avoiding the ones of Matty. A gentle knock on her door rips her from her daydream, pulling her eyes from the moon she murmurs a “Come in.”, shutting her laptop and turning round in her chair. But the sight of the man she’s avoiding draws a silent groan from her throat, she turns away.
“Hi. Can we talk?” He’s grovelling and she doesn’t know why. When met with silence he keeps talking. “We can’t keep dancing around this, it’s starting to hurt me. I can’t fucking look at you without wanting something from you, anything. I just want a sign of life, Sades.” She stares back out the window, wishing she lived in a house alone on the moon. But no, she’s here, face to face with everything wrong with her. All she knows how to do is shake her head.
“I don’t know what you want from me. I don’t have anything to say to you.” The way he takes a deep breath as he sits down on her bed makes her panic a bit, she knows that he’s about to hurt her feelings. It was just the honest truth, she didn’t have anything to say to him, what words could possibly come out of her mouth that he’d want to hear. Not a single thought in her head is something that should be said out loud to him.
“No, Sadie. What do you want from me? I am fucking sick of you, the sight of you, the way you’ll speak to the boys with no fucking malice in your tone, what did I do to you? And, what? Every two months you want me to fuck you and have it not mean anything? I can’t stand to be in your fucking presence everyday anymore, it’s draining me.” She zones out slightly, trying to will the lump in her throat to go away. Nothing that he had said warrants tears because he is also telling the honest truth.
“We’ve ruined it. Been friends eight years and fucking ruined it.” Shaking her head with a wet laugh she lets it fall to rest on her knee, a single tear slipping out. “Can’t believe there was a time we got on. Now you’re just horrible to me.” Bitter laughter takes over her ears and another tear falls. And another. Lifting her head she writes down the words, ‘wishing you could forget the present you’re living in’, in the notebook on her desk. The notebook is just full of shit, mostly angry shit, recently.
“You’re the horrible one. One day someone snapped their fingers and you turned on me. I can’t fuck around with you anymore, you’ve changed, and it makes me sick. To my stomach. And calling me horrible? Whatever.”
“You’re still talking if you weren’t aware.”
“Yes I was. Wasn’t done either.” Standing up and gesturing wildly, his bitter tongue still talks. She’s reduced to a pile of sobs on her desk chair, just watching, unable to make it stop. “I also find it quite frankly hilarious that you’re the first one to tell people that I’m the ‘worst person you’ve ever met’, it wasn’t that when we were shagging everyday four years ago.” Sadie sniffs a laugh at this, he’s contradicting himself by saying ‘she’s changed’ one second, then referencing a time Sadie actually liked him. “Oh! Another thing, telling George that I’m the only one you don’t say ‘I love you’ to is so strange. I’d like an explanation.” Walking over to her until he’s hanging over her, she has to look up and face his snarl. “Why? Why don’t you love me. I think you do and you’re just fucking scared of me, pathetic, by the way. I think you realised years-”
She interrupts him, unable to control the angry scream ripping from the depths of her lungs. “Stop! Just fucking stop! Get the fuck away from me.” He stills and cocks an eyebrow. “GO.”
A slam of a door and tears coming out in screams is all that’s heard through the flat.
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The next time Matty’s on stage doing what he loves, he isn’t sure he actually loves it anymore. He’s considering hiring a new photographer. Sadie’s been dancing round his feet all night, apparently unable to take a single photo of Matty, she’s taken more photos of Adam tonight than she probably ever has. The way in which he is performing is growing slightly more aggressive, standing on the stage, seething, unable to do anything about it. Could you imagine what the crowd would think if he started shouting at his photographer mid-show?
She smirks as she comes round the back to take a couple photos of George, he shakes his head at her, and she lets out a laugh. Shrugging her shoulders as if she’s done nothing wrong, she quickly realises that coming onto the stage to take photos was a mistake, Matty turns his back on the crowd briefly and whispers in her ear, “What the fuck are you doing?”
“What? Nothing? My job.” Turning back to the crowd with a scoff he keeps singing, Sadie takes a couple photos of the view from the back of the stage, looking out into the mass of people, she smiles at her camera knowing it’ll be a good shot. Exiting the stage from the left hand side she takes a minute to look through a couple of the photos she’s taken as she sips from her water bottle. The events manager approaches her and smiles.
“Why aren’t you taking as many photos of Matty?” The way her sickly sweet voice punctures Sadie’s ears makes her cringe a little bit. But she hides it with a returned smile in her direction and turns her body slightly towards her. Taking in her professional outfit she hides a laugh, how she’s not sweating is one of the wonders of the world. The way she was very clearly flirting with Matty before the show had pissed her off and Sadie knew she was only asking because she wanted to see photos of Matty.
“Don’t worry about it.” Walking all the way to the back of the hall with no more words said, Sadie scoffs when she’s no longer in hearing distance. Shaking her head she snaps a few more pictures before heading back to the dressing rooms, hearing the band finish the show she busies herself with looking through photos. She likes to pretend she doesn’t exist after the boys finish a show, they also like to pretend she doesn’t exist, mostly high on adrenaline. Since people had started taking the band more seriously, the energy at their shows has increased tenfold. So has their egos but Sadie never makes comment on it. Hearing the stomps of Matty down the halls has her realising that pretending she doesn’t exist isn’t an option today.
“What the fuck was that? You’re embarrassing yourself.” Slamming the door behind him, leaving just the two of them in the dressing room, Sadie rolls her eyes. She watches on as he grabs a wine glass and pours from the bottle, he takes a sip and groans, shaking his head. When their eyes meet, Sadie curls into herself a bit, intimidated. “Just utterly pathetic.”
“What’s pathetic? Me not wanting to see your face? Did you forget the things you said to me? Or are you going to blame that as a ‘heat of the moment’ thing like you always do?” The slam of his glass on the table makes her jump and he turns to her with nothing but malice in his eyes.
“No, you should be able to hold a level of professionalism that allows you to do your job no matter how you actually feel, Sadie. You’ve always managed to photograph me even if I have been in the wrong, but not today. I’m calling you pathetic because I thought you were more mature than you actually are. Turns out I was fucking wrong, hmm?” Matty is leaning over her, pointing a finger down at her. She stands up to defend herself.
“Actually, I think that you speak to me like I’m a piece of shit on the bottom of your shoe and then expect me to carry myself professionally when in reality just the sight of your face makes me want to punch it. And oh, I’ll just carry on taking my silly little pictures and pretend you don’t come off that stage and hurt my feelings. Every. Single. Day.”
“Oh, I hurt your feelings? Fuck off, Sadie.” With this he leaves the dressing room and slams the door behind him so hard that Sadie sees the mirror on the wall shake a bit. She has to hold her laugh in when he comes back in for the bottle of wine. She really struggles to hold it back when George comes in and gives her a look like she’s dumb.
“What?” When George just laughs at her she laughs too. She grabs the second bottle of wine from the table and takes pleasure in drinking straight from it. “Genuinely what was I supposed to do? Let him keep treating me like this?” George leans onto her shoulder when he sits down, his voice is sympathetic, and Sadie is having none of it.
“You could’ve gone about it a bit nicer.”
“Why would I be ‘a bit nicer’ after all he’s done to me?”
“Yeah, you’re right, fuck him.” With that George takes the bottle and starts drinking from it too.
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They’ve somehow ended up in a sleazy bar in Soho, they’d played just round the corner at some hall Sadie can’t remember to name. Matty’s still pissed, Sadie is very drunk, some would call this a recipe for disaster, George would call this a recipe for entertainment. Sadie has linked eyes with a notably cute guy a couple of times this evening, but she’s waiting for him to be the gentleman and make the first move to speak. As Adam stands up to get the next round she hears laughter from behind her and sees Matty flirting with some girl. She turns to Adam, “Get me a vodka shot, too.”
Adam really shouldn’t be encouraging her to drink anything that strong, but after clocking on to what Matty was doing he immediately adds it to the list of drinks he’s ordering. When it slides in front of her it’s down her throat practically before it’s even stopped sliding her direction. Ross grips her arm and laughs but she pays no mind to him, distracted by the bitter taste in her mouth, she’d be convinced the bitter taste wasn’t coming from the liquor. Eyeing the way Matty’s arm slings around the girl and his shoulders look slightly less tense she turns to search the crowd of people, looking for the guy who was eye-fucking her earlier. She leaps out the barstool when she sees him, throwing everything about wishing he was gentlemanly out the window. “Hi, I’m Sadie.”
“Theo, nice to meet you. I was gonna come over in a bit but here you are, like a dream in front of me.” Sadie laughs probably louder than she should’ve at this, hand coming down on his arm. At this Theo notices the lack of drink in her hand and rests a hand on her lower back, “Shall we go get you something to drink? On me, of course.” She lets him lead her back to all her friends, narrowly avoiding them as he leans over the bar to order her an espresso martini. She does not like espresso martinis.
“Thank you. I noticed your accent, Australian, right? What are you doing in England?” The small talk flows quite freely between the two as they exchange careers and anecdotes, Sadie finds it easy to talk to him. Not as easy as any of her actual friends but it’s good enough. She has to hold her breath anytime she takes a drink but they’re free, so she isn’t saying anything. Matty catches her eye for the first time since being distracted by the girl on his lap, when he catches a glimpse of the blonde boy standing next to her he shakes his head. She scowls at him and turns back to the boy, a bit closer than she was before.
“Do you wanna get out of here? Maybe back to my hotel?” Sadie doesn’t really hear him, she sees Matty shaking her head at something the girl is saying and when she starts shouting at him Sadie knows he’d just been asked the same question she has. Matty makes fleeting eye contact with her, making a look that reads ‘I dare you’. Turning back to Theo she nods her head, smiling up at the smug look on his face, shoving his arm slightly. She finishes her drink with a slight gag and grips onto his arm as he leads her out the front.
“How far is your hotel?” She’d love to know why she feels guilty.
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Sadie’s sitting on the doorstep to their flat building with mascara staining her cheeks. When she’d gotten back to Theo’s hotel she experienced something akin to a panic attack and basically ran out of there, he’d chased her just to make sure she was okay and when all she said was, “It isn’t your fault,” he knew that it was the other guy from the bar holding her back, the one from her friend group, “I just have to get back to my flat.”
Feeling nothing less than mortified, she couldn’t bring herself to go in, so she was sitting smoking on the doorstep with the entire evening playing on a loop in her head. Dropping her head to her knees with a sigh she let one more tear fall before putting out her cig with her shoe and opening the door behind her. When she opens the door to the flat she’s met with silence, unsure if anyone’s home until she hears George snoring and a strum of a guitar in the room next to hers. Upon realising he’s the only other person awake she admits defeat and heads to her own room.
After brushing her teeth in the bathroom and grabbing water and some painkillers from the kitchen, she opens her bedroom door to Matty standing, staring down at her. Shutting the door behind her she looks up at him with a fixed glare, silently wishing he’d brush past her and shut the door so she could sleep. But no, as she shuts the door behind her she finds herself slammed against it. “You’re so fucking pathetic, Sades.” It might be the slight buzz she still feels in her head, but his words paired with his hands on her hips hit her right in her core, feeling like her head is about to float right off her shoulders.
“Matty, you’re just here to fuck with my head.” She really tried to make her words believable but the way she trails off into a whine makes it seem quite the opposite. The way in which her body always reacts to him the way he wants will forever make her angry, staring up at him trying to keep her glare steady on her face. It proves hard when Matty’s face moves down to her neck, attacking it with his lips, practically taunting her by the way he leans back up to swallow the moan that leaves her mouth.
She fights her body, trying her hardest to not kiss him back, but the way his tongue is licking into her mouth makes her desperate for anything he’ll give her. “Think you can just go fuck anyone, hmm? You’re wrong, angel. Belong to me, don’t you?” The scowl that takes over her features makes him smirk down at her. “Pretty when you’re angry. Gonna let me show you who you belong to?” She doesn’t want to nod but of course her body is doing things without her brains consent. To be fair said brain is actively turning to mush and melting out of her ears.
“Matty, please. Hurting my head.” After a quick glance up from her neck, he realises she doesn’t mean that literally, but instead she means that his actions are confusing her. He’s too in the moment to care, dragging her to the bed to put her out of her misery. The feeling of the mattress on her back makes her sigh in pleasure, he smirks down at her, working his hands under her, way too big, jumper as he hovers over her, moving down at a teasingly slow pace. She writhes on the bed until his hands take a strong grip of her hips, dragging them to the bottom of the bed before holding her in place as he kisses from her knee to her thigh. “Fuck, why do you always come crawling back to me? Just told me you can’t fuck me anymore.”
“I can’t get enough.” Letting go of her hips to move her panties down her thighs, her hands whip to his hair as she feels a puff of cold air blown onto her clit, her heart stopping in her chest at the feeling. He growls into her dripping cunt, licking a stripe up it before feeling her thighs squeeze his face, moving his hands round them to keep them apart. “Be good. Keep quiet. Maybe I’ll let you cum.” The whine that leaves her mouth is involuntarily and goes against what he’d just said, she knows she’s fucking in for it now.
Lowering her voice to a whisper she leans up onto her elbows, “Matty, do something.” Brown eyes looking into her blue ones with a teasing glint he gives her another kitten lick and her elbows give out on her, back arching from the mattress. The teasing pace of his tongue is making the whole ‘keep quiet’ thing impossible for Sadie, her entire fist is in her mouth at this point and her brain is wondering where on earth he learned how to do this. Sure, he’s eaten her out many times before, but this is her first time realising how good at it he’d gotten. “Please, stop teasing.”
Humming into her wetness, he ponders on whether he should give her more or not. Does she deserve it? “Me stop teasing you? Oh, angel. Take your own advice.” Something about the way she whimpers spurs him on to, in fact, stop teasing. Giving in to her immediately, his tongue finds her clit and picks up the pace by the most miniscule amount. Unwrapping one of his hands from her thigh, his fingers find her entrance, ever teasing, but finding their way in after she hisses down at him to stop.
When he parts for a breather Sadie can see her slick on his chin and the sight brings out something carnal in her. She grabs his chin and pulls him up to her level, smashing their lips together as if they’re running out of time. Pulling away from her, Matty looks down at her, jaw slightly slack. “Like tasting yourself? What do you want, angel? Speak to me.” His digits still slipping deeper into her makes it incredibly difficult for her to formulate words, after whining at him and being met with a cocked eyebrow, she manages.
“Want you.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“Just fuck me, Matty.” He doesn’t relent. Hands speeding up, kisses draped across her neck, his other hand finding it’s way up her jumper, squeezing her tits. Determined to pull at least one orgasm from her before giving in to what she wants. He groans into her neck when he feels how tight she’s squeezing his two fingers. “I’m gonna cum.”
“Let go then, angel. Give it to me, all over my fingers, gonna make a mess?” Frantically nodding, she feels her brain fading away into nothingness before his lips wrap around hers. Laying still, not kissing back, her orgasm takes over her being, Matty practically chews her moans with his teeth as if they were tangible. With a whine she rips his hand from between her thighs and finally gives in to the feeling of his lips on hers, kissing back with fervour. He pulls away to glance at his fingers, smothered in her arousal, the sight alone would’ve made him hard if he wasn’t already. Opening her mouth without having to be told to, she takes his two fingers into her mouth, sucking tiredly at them. “You tired?” Taking his hand out of her mouth to hear her reply, he smiles down at her blown out pupils.
“Fuck me, please.” Sometimes she can’t help but make the same mistakes.
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Sadie had woken up hours ago. Some sick part of her is forcing her to stay in bed, under his arms, in his t-shirt. There’s an air of domesticity surrounding the pair, the way his dark eyelashes flutter slightly in his sleep has Sadie enamoured. Silently wishing things could be easier, with a sigh. Her brain starts to ponder on where things went wrong, and who might’ve been at fault, when she didn’t like the conclusion she came to she shut her eyes. Matty must’ve felt the way her body shook slightly, waking up slowly with a long stretch. “What you crying for?”
“I don’t know.” He squeezes his arms slightly tighter around her and wipes a tear from her cheek, unable to stop the concerned expression from taking over his features. Rubbing a soothing hand down her back, he shushes her until she’s calm, looking down at her slightly with an encouraging glint in his eye. “I just feel shit about the point we’ve gotten to. Wish we were 16 again.”
“Angel, don’t feel shit. I’ve been a dick to you recently and I’m sorry, I just don’t know how to speak to you anymore.” Sadie nods against his arm at his words, the soft smile taking over his face makes her feel at home. He looks like he’s 18 again in the mornings. It makes Sadie feel a bit sick.
“I don’t know how to speak to you either. We’ve spent everyday together for as long as I can remember, but it’s like you changed without me realising.” Matty hanging off of every word she says enhances the sick feeling in her stomach and she looks away from him. Grabbing her water from the bedside table she cradles her headache with her other hand and hears Matty laughing at her from behind. Putting her water back down she hits his chest and stands up. “I can’t have this conversation with you. I think I need to fucking find my own place. Then Ross and Adam can actually have their own rooms instead of being forced to share. Think it would be best for everyone.” Being met with a head of curls frantically shaking, she sighs.
“You can’t.”
“I will. Watch me.”
73 notes · View notes
canthelpit0 · 3 days
Text
Enemies (With Benefits) PT5
Pairing: Cold!Chris x Reader
Wordcount: 3.2k+
Summary: Chris and reader have always been enemies ever since they’ve known each other. neither knew why they had this burning feeling in their gut. So one day they decide to fuck it out. Until, eventually doing it regularly.
Warnings: Smut, Fluff, no angst, pet names (sweetheart, ma, honey, etc), nickname (Cherry), morning sex, oral m!receiving, p in v, creampie, implied cockwarming, happy ending. That’s all?? Short (bad) ending
(A/N: it was heavily inspired by this request. Sorry if this is ass or a bad ending. Tho I hadn’t even intended this to be a series at all. Thank you guys for 350+ followers. I love you all and I appreciate it.)
PT1 PT2 PT3 PT4 FINAL
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Me and Chris had hooked up a few times this week.
It was ‘normal’ for us. Yet I noticed that it started to feel a lot more intimate and sensual.
It didn’t just feel like plain sex.
He started to give me aftercare afterward. Treating me with more care than ever before.
He wasn’t treating me like meat anymore. And it was confusing.
I feel like we’ve done way more positions in the past week rather than the entirety of this arrangement. Before it used to just be doggy, cowgirl, and the occasional, very rare, missionary.
But in the past week, we’ve done a lot of different types of missionary. And everything we did felt intimate.
Everything went back to normal. Or at least how normal it could be.
All his snide remarks didn’t seem as menacing and as disrespectful as they used to be.
I was laying wrapped up in Chris’ arms. We had a passionate night yesterday, and he cleaned me up and stayed over after.
He never stays over.
Ever since the day that we had made up a that day a week ago, he’d been almost, nicer..
I started to stir awake. I toss and turn slightly shifting. I open my eyes slightly staring at the wall opposite my bed.
I feel warm. Chris’ arms are wrapped around me tightly as he keeps sleeping. He was snoring slightly his face pressed into the side of my neck.
I at first relax into his touch, until I realize the hardness poking my ass.
Was he hard right now?
Christ, what kind of dreams was this kid having?
I shift in place pushing my ass back into him to tease him. And he actually whines under his breath.
An idea pops into my mind.
Usually, I wouldn’t do this, but who wouldn’t like to wake up to head, right?
I turn around shifting in his arms. I try not to move too fast to not alert him and wake him up.
I wiggle out of his soft grip, listening to the way he huffs under his breath trying to pull me back. But in his half-asleep state, he can’t really.
I push his hand off of me and gently push him back on his back.
“Fuck” I sigh under my breath. I look back at Chris’ sleeping face. The way he looks so calm... I wish he’d look this calm around me when he’s awake.
He was usually always angry. He always looked pissed off at me. Though in the past few days, he’s been nicer. I swear he has been, or maybe I’m just tripping.
I glance over to my bedside table where an alarm clock is sitting. It’s 5 am. Why the fuck am I awake.
I sit, my legs curled in so I’m sitting on them. I look back down at Chris. He breaths out gently his lips parting slightly.
I glance over his entire body. My eyes trail down his bare chest to his crotch area.
Since we had fucked yesterday night, he was only in his boxers, and I was only in my panties.
My eyes lock on the tent in his boxers. I lick my lips. For a second I don't do anything, just watching him breathe calmly.
I smile to myself shaking my head. I sit up pulling my panties down. I slip them off and throw them away.
I carefully climb over one of Chris’ legs and settle between them.
I trail my nails over his thighs up to the very top. I watch his body shudder at the touch of my manicured nails, a low chuckle leaving my lips.
My nails are a long almond shape. They’re not too long though. But I know that me trailing it over his skin like this feels good.
Chris stirs in his sleep. I trail my hand up to his clothed crotch. I start to gently, and slowly palm him.
He lets out soft whiny breaths that almost sound like low moans.
He lets out a soft breath opening his eyes slightly. I watch as Chris sits up on his arms lazily. His eyes are droopy, he stares down at me.
“You want me to help with this?” I chuckle my hand trailing over his crotch again.
His breath shudders slightly. His eyes are lazily open, he blinks slowly.
“Please.” He breathes out.
“Lay back down.”
He does as I say, not bothering to argue about it. He just lays down with a plop.
He lets out a breath when I start tugging down his boxers. I pull them off and unceremoniously throw them to the floor.
Chris has his eyes closed again, hissing slightly when the cold air hits his half-hard length.
“So good for me yeah,” I say softly under my breath. I cup his length gently. I look at the way my manicured nails look around him. “Stay still for me sweetheart.”
He does just that, only ever softly letting out breaths.
I start to slowly jerk him off. I listen to his low breathy moans and whines as I do so.
I lean down leaving wet slow pecks on his leaking tip. The contact causes Chris to whine again.
“Cherry, fuck” he breaths out. He was lying comfortably, his head on the pillow. “Please.”
I chuckle at the whiny tone. I slowly sit up peering down at Chris. He looks so cute like this. I let go of his dick listening to him whine dramatically at the loss of contact.
My eyes lock with his half-lidded ones. I lean down my lips capturing his in a sweet kiss.
“Just shush and let me do this, right,” I say looking down at him.
He huffs a soft laugh making me smile in response.
I lean back down again, making myself comfortable between his legs once more.
My hand cups his member again, my lips softly wrapping around the head. I swirl my tongue around it making sure to swallow all the pre cum.
Chris just hums in approval, occasionally letting out soft whines and moans. Everything he did was laced with an air of sleepiness, he hadn’t even fully woken up yet.
I reach back grabbing my hair into a makeshift ponytail so it wouldn’t be all over the place. I start to gently and slowly bob my head. While I look up at him through my eyelashes.
Chris lets out a shaky sigh But eventually sits up on his forearms to gaze down at me sucking him off.
I start to move more intensely, starting to jerk off what I couldn’t fit in my mouth, feeling his dick hit the back of my throat occasionally.
He tenses, his breaths getting shakier as he watches my every move with lazy eyes. Chris licks his lips. He was looking down at me with such adoration, our eyes staying locked.
I pull off with a pop making him groan under his breath. He throws his head back, still leaning on his forearms to keep him up.
I shift, now hovering over him. Chris lets out a shaky breath feeling me move. He opens his eyes, picking his head back up and staring back into my eyes.
I start to slowly sink down on his dick. Slowly but surely taking as much of it as I can. His hands instinctively go to my hips to help me grind into him.
“So pretty” he breaths out. His eyes are focused on me, my eyes locked with his.
I put both of my hands on his chest, resting my weight on my palms. I start to thrust myself back into him A little faster but still gentle.
The urge to say I love you was so crazy right now. I don’t even know why I wanted to say it. I just tend to say it when I’m giddy or when I feel good.
I usually only say I love you to my close friends. Only when i want to tell them how much I appreciate them. But that’s about all… so why would I want to say it to Chris when we’re not even friends?
I just hold it back and tell myself that it’s my impending orgasm making me emotional. I try to refrain from talking at all, for fear that I would let it slip.
“Chris” I breathe out still slowly rocking my hips against his.
“Yes ma?” He breathes out between low grunts.
“Fuck, you’re so good.” I whine my tone more pitched than intended.
“Oh am I honey?” He chuckles his tone more sweet than I’ve ever heard it.
I sit down for a moment, stopping the minor movements my hips had been making. He breathes out shakily and then looks back at me.
“Why’d you stop?” He asks with a huff.
And to be honest I don’t even know. I put a hand on my lower stomach gently pressing down. I could practically feel the slight bulge he was causing.
“Fuck I..” I trail off. I lean down slightly putting my face into the side of his neck. He chuckles wrapping one arm tenderly around my waist.
“God, you’re just so-“ I pause again. I left a small peck on his neck where my head was resting. “I could sleep like this,” I mumble.
He lets out a soft laugh at that. He wasn’t expecting that, but he also wasn’t mocking.
“I get that cherry, but would you like to get off right now?” He says lowly. I grumble in agreement, slightly starting to grind my body against his.
“Come on you got this ma.” He encourages leaving a light tap on my hip.
I lift myself back up again. He holds out his open hand for me to take, offering his moral support.
I take it intertwining my hand with his. I start to gently bounce on him again. My walls cling to his length harshly, as if trying to suck him back in.
“So tight for me ma” he groans closing his eyes briefly. I look at the scene in front of me, the way his eyes look shut tight, and the way he’s lying there calmly, his messy bedhead resting on his forehead.
This feels so euphoric.
His hand on my hips guides my movements making me pick up pace more and slam myself down on him.
“Just like that cherry,” he breaths out between light groans looking up at me. “Doing so well for me honey.” He murmurs.
The praise sends butterfly’s to my core. I love knowing that I’m doing something good. But beyond that, anything that Chris says to me makes me feel tingly.
And I don’t know when it shifted from anger to giddiness but it had.
I just felt so overwhelmingly happy.
I whine incoherent words of affirmation, Chris just chuckling at some of them.
My pace starts to speed up, as it becomes less and less controlled and more erratic by the second.
Chris bites his lips to hold himself back from groaning at the sight. Just from how much we hooked up he knew I was close. And he wasn’t wrong.
“Come on my dick” he says his breaths harsh. He watches me with lazy lust filled eyes.
I slam myself back down on him one last time feeling myself clench tightly around Chris.
He smiles at the way I squeeze his hand.
He lets me sit there for a second to get myself together.
And once I do, and my breathing gets more even again, he pulls me off of him gently. He flips us around so he’s on top of me and between my legs.
“You’re so gorgeous.” He breathes out, his tone oh so gentle.
Instead of thrusting back in, he grabs one of my ankles, pulling my leg over to my other. I oblige just letting him position me sideways.
I grab the pillow under my head and put an arm under it to make it more comfortable.
His hand trails over my back and side sensually. “You good?” He asks lowly.
“Yeah.” We were back to whispering now, and all of this just felt a tad bit too loving.
He cups his length sliding it between my folds, before pushing it back into my cunt.
My free hand goes to my ass, I simply put it there as Chris starts to gently rock his hips back and forth.
This doesn’t feel like sex, this feels like love.
Hell, we’ve never even had morning sex before. This was a first.
“So good for me mama.” He breaths out his tone low and soothing.
My head stays half-buried in the pillow, my mouth slightly parted and my eyes closed.
“More please” I whine. I hear Chris’ amused chuckle at that. He starts to thrust in deeper but still keeps his thrusts slow and sensual. One of his hands stays on my thigh the other one on the small of my back to hold me in place with a firm but not harsh grip.
I open my eyes briefly to look at him from the corner of my eyes. But the way those sensual thrusts were hitting every right spot made my eyes roll back and my soft breaths come out whiny.
I tried to focus my eyes on him as best as I could without them rolling back.
“Please come inside,” I ask in my best sweet tone.
Chris raises an eyebrow again. I remember way back in the day when he would refuse to do that with everything he had, saying ‘he wants to take no risks.’
But now he just smiles down at me and smiles nodding.
“Relax ma.” He chuckles rubbing my back soothingly. “Close your eyes and let me do this, ‘right.” He smiles.
I comply to his words, closing my eyes. I feel him start to thrust into me again. Still slow and sensual. A few small whines and moans leave my lips.
He starts to pick up the pace, the sound of skin clapping echoes in the room. I let out a few breathy whines, listening to his soft and low grunts.
I move my hand to my clit starting to gently rub it. Chris picks up pace even more now, chasing his own high.
And once I feel his breath get harsh and his pace more erratic I know he’s close and so am I.
“Good girl.” He coos in a whisper. His tone is soothing and sounds like silk to my ears. The sweet praise he mumbles into the mostly quiet room only makes me clench more.
I hit my climax a bit before him again. I clench around his dick making him groan. He gives me one last thrust before burying himself in me, Shooting his spurts of cum deep into my cunt.
I try to catch my breath, My eyes staying closed.
I feel him rub at the small of my back again. But instead of pulling out, he lays down behind me, not making a move to pull off.
He holds my body close to his, and I readjust. Chris’ arm goes under my head, his other arm wrapping around me to keep me close.
Once I catch my breath I break the silence with a soft chuckle. “Not gonna pull out?” I tease.
“No, you said you could sleep like this?” He challenges playfully.
I chuckle back in response.
“So, sleep like this cherry. Don’t you feel all full and warm?” He asks, lightly teasing.
★ ★ ★
So that’s how we woke up today.
Now it was after school already. Time had flown by so fast. We got up, cleaned up, and got to school. And now school was already over for the day.
I laid on my back. Simply staring at the blank ceiling. This was the bed that I woke up with Chris in today…
My thoughts trail off. And no matter what I try to distract myself with, I always end up thinking about Chris.
I don’t know what that was. But I liked waking up next to Chris.
I need to talk to him.
I sit up and walk to my mirror. looking into it I fix my hair. Looking to see if my makeup was still in place.
I hadn’t changed yet so I was basically ready to go.
I grab my phone and put it in the back pocket of my jeans.
I start to trod down the stairs fast. I take my car keys and swing open the door.
But right as I go to step out I see Chris standing there his hand raised as if he was going to knock on the door before I swung it open.
I freeze in my step pausing. I do a double take and so does Chris.
“Chris?”
“Cherry?”
We both pause looking at each other.
But before I know it my arms wrap around his neck and I pull him in for a passionate kiss.
He kisses back with just as much vigor. His hands go to my waist pulling me closer to him.
When he licks at my lips I gladly part them for him, feeling his tongue explore my mouth.
After a while we pull apart for air, our mouths still connected by a string of saliva.
My hand trails down his arm until I grab his wrist and pull him inside. I close the door unceremoniously. “We should talk.” I breathe out looking at the floor.
I feel Chris’ hand cup my jaw making me look back at him. He connects our lips again, and I sigh into the kiss. It feels strangely comforting.
He pulls away. “Talk to me Cherry.”
I look back up at Chris. I swallow at his tone. He looked so kind now.
What had changed?
“Chris, I-” I pause thinking of how to word this.
“I like hooking up with you, but I also like being close to you and talking to you. And..” I trail off.
He looked at me for a moment to see if I’d continue talking.
“I like you too.” He says under his breath finishing my thought.
I pause looking up at him. “You do?”
And with that he is once again leaning down and giving me a passionate kiss. It’s close-mouthed but it’s more than enough to convey his love for me.
He pulls away and I look back up at him.
I try to hold back the smile growing on my face. But the way he was smiling at me was making me all giddy.
I break out in giggles and so does he. I lean more into him muffling my laughter with his chest.
After a moment of laughing my smile stays firmly on my face.
“I love you so much”
And despite love being a strong word, it feels like the only thing that could describe this.
He looks at me with such adoration, affection, and… well, love.
He used to be so cold, but it looks like his anger for me melted away with all the heated things we’d been doing.
“Will you be my girlfriend?” He asks sweetly his toothy grin on display.
“Of course.”
Masterlist
A/N: I have so many things that I still want to write (I have a whole list lmao). but I really loved writing this. my req + asks are open if you wanna send me something <33
‼️please don’t copy my work/idea‼️
Taglist: @muwapsturniolo , @sturnad , @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 , @evie-sturns , @me09love , @fratbrochrisgf , @spideylovin , @chrissgirlsstuff , @stunza , @whicked-hazlatwhore , @sturniooolos , @ecliphttlunar , @orangeypepsi , @klaus223492 , @char112244 , @sst7niolo , @slut4chriss , @mattsturniololoverr , @th3-3d3n-g4rd3n , @st7rnioioss , @t1llysblogs , @nonat-111 , @blahbel668 , @rockstarchr1s , @sturnsintrouble , @nayveetbhh
100 notes · View notes
plentyoffandoms · 3 days
Note
Hey boo!
I've been obsessing over this song and I feel like you would be able to create an amazing smut piece from it.
I would, of course, love it to be Hook or Ricky, but any wrestler could work.
Main Masterlist ♡ Wrestlers Masterlist ♡ Hook Masterlist
LIKE YOU MEAN IT (18+)
Hook x f/Reader
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Just like all my other stories, this has not been proofread, but please enjoy.
Warnings: Smut under the cut. P in V. Unprotected sex. Outdoor sex
Gifs and photos do not belong to me: 1st gif @junglehooks
Requested by @wwenhlimagines . I hope you like it.
Tyler - Hook
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Red wine and roses
Sugar-coated
Your carousel spin me round
Round, round, round
The two of us were sitting on the balcony of our hotel room. Looking up at the night sky, we could see the stars clearly out here tonight.
It was a perfect night. The moon was shining down on us, and I swear I saw a shooting star, but that could have been just my imagination as her pussy was squeezing my cock just perfect way.
My hands gripped her hips as she leisurely moved up and down atop of me. Her hands gripped my shoulders to steady herself.
We both know we
Don't want us, oh we
Inside, we're screaming so loud
Loud, loud, loud
I am biting the inside of my cheek to keep from moaning loudly, not wanting to alert anyone who may be out here, looking up at the night sky.
I didn't want them to see her, how I should only see her, but she was making it hard for me to stay quiet.
"Come here." Was all I said as I placed my hand at the nape of her neck and brought her lips to mine for a heated kiss.
The two of us moaning into the kiss, finally being able to make some type of noise.
When the horns start playing, and you can't stop shaking
The bloodlust runs to your cheeks
Then your mind starts racing, and your bones start aching
It's time to let him know what you need
"Tyler, I need you." She whimpered against my lips as she pulled back, her pace slowing down even more.
"I'm right here, baby." I told her as I sat up and started to kiss and bite her neck, working my day to her chest.
"Please." Was all she said.
"I got you, baby."I pulled my cock out of her, I flipped us over so her back was now on the lounger. She wrapped her arms around my neck as I wrapped her legs around my waist.
Fuck me like you mean it (like you mean it)
Make me believe it (me believe it)
Walk the wire, it's alright
I gripped my cock and slapped it against her pussy, making her shiver. She knows what is going to happen. "Be quiet for me, baby, and I'll reward you."
She didn't have time to cover her mouth as I slammed into her, fucking her hard and fast.
She was biting by shoulder, trying to keep quiet, and I swear she broke skin, but I didn't care.
Not with the way her whole body was gripping me oh so tightly.
Love me like you need it (like you need it)
'Cause I can feel it (I can feel it)
Take it higher, show me why
I fucked her all over this balcony, just not caring anymore if we got caught. I fucked her through each orgasm I was able to pull from her body.
I knew she was getting tired, as she slumped over the table, but never once said the safe word.
She wanted me to fuck her until she passes out or says our safe word.
Keep my composure
I think it's over
Her cherry lips knock me down
Down, down, down
We are now on the lounger once more, her atop of me as I fuck up into her. Our bodies were sweaty, but I just need a couple more minutes. I am so close. So very fucking close.
Take it slower
Getting closer
But then, she lets out a sound
Sound, sound, sound
But then, it was like a dam burst inside of her. She cried out my name loudly. It seemed to echo in my ears.
Her body went stiff, as her pussy squeezed my cock for the final time tonight.
She collapsed against me, just as I groaned her name, trusting sloppily into her as I came.
The two of us hold onto one another as we catch our breaths.
I bring my lips to hers and gently kiss her, and she tiredly kisses me back.
Tag list: @lghockey @nicoleveno14 @legit9thlunaticwarrior @hooks-martin @wwenhlimagines @melissahausen @faerieofthenightcourt @tahiri-veyla @crowleysqueenofhell
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mysteriousdragon2 · 2 days
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Howdy everyone, I think it’s time I talk about OVA Hol Horse with my very exhausted brain lmao.
But like…just look his face. He looks so comforting! I’d bet it’s so calming, that it’ll soothe anybody’s worries away. And in these trying times, he’d likely comfort the person that’s in need of it.
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Gonna feature OVA Polnareff in this post too, because why not? Anyhow, man….just the transition of this scene…it was so, goofy yet menacing at the same time? It’s just like. Yes, you start with the whole “Oh what’s that? I can beat your bum? Oh, you’re into that stuff!” by OVA Polnareff, then OVA Hol laughs with him like silly adult men. Then the whole action of OVA Avdol risking and sacrificing himself to OVA Pol. And just…OVA Hol having such an ominous looking shot with the most hilarious laugh known to mankind lol. Like. And the OVA Pol shot…so many shadows, it’s just so impactful. Also look at OVA Pol’s face, he looks so upset I swear this man is so unbelievably expressive, it’s amazing.
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OVA Hol has a golden Emperor, but I’ve already said that before. But I still believe it’s a neat little difference between that and what we see in the anime Part 3 for Hol. Plus…
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…seeing Emperor being summoned the way it is, that’s so..wow. I mean, Part 3 Hol usually has Emperor either faintly spawn into his hand, or spin, which is cool, but OVA Hol Horse has it where it comes out of his hand like his flesh is getting ripped, or summons into his hand like wind. And this scene is interesting too because OVA Hol actually attempts to shoot DIO! It’s so cool…I love analyzing minor characters that aren’t often spoken about, and Hol Horse is special in my heart for that. OVA Hol even clenched his teeth so hard, that his cigarette broke off…it’s a small but neat detail.
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Love this scene, I mean, he’s just laughing and then the transition goes to: “YOU! I’ll fuckin’ kill you!”, then spits his cigarette into the air as it rotates until he makes his shot at OVA Pol. His shots are so cool everytime OVA Hol is on screen…
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Having a motorcycle instead of horses or elephants is also quite the change. Honestly, there’s many things the OVA changed and with Hol Horse, it’s been a lotta changes, but I am satisfied with them. From having a more southern accent, to making him more sassy and serious, and such more but my brain is so worn out right now LOL.
As OVA Hol Horse says: “The gun is mightier than the sword, my friend.”
Thank you for listening/reading.
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My 4th shot of Espresso~~~~Alastor x Reader
Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Sinners being sinners, Anxietyy descriptors, some swear words, high amounts of caffeine consumption, alcohol consumption
Type: Story ( I had no control again and I made it so long)
Word Count: 6944
Playlist: Espresso- Sabrina Carpenter
Prompt: The reader was a singer in her past life, well-known in the human world for her sweet, sultry voice before her untimely death. The people of the overworld would say she was like a shot of espresso to your system. Now, in Pentagram City, a particular radio demon can't help but seek out his next caffeine high.
Notes: I will not lie to everyone; I am a hardcore Sabrina Carpenter fan. She is one of the few artists outside my regular music routine. She has a grip on me and my reptile brain.
Her song Espresso got me thinking of one Radio Demon specifically. The 1900s was a big time for coffee production (in the US, where I am from), mainly due to Prohibition, and it just so happens that right around the 1920s, espresso machines were introduced heavily in America. The FDA also recommends not going over 6 shots of Espresso, but many health professionals say not to go over 3 shots, so I will meet in the middle here.
My 4th shot of Espresso~~~~Alastor x Reader
The day you died was tragic indeed for all parties involved. Your deranged stalker who killed you now serves life in prison, your fans continue to broadcast your music regularly, crying their eyes out, and your record label is on the hunt for the next ‘Hit’ girl. The only problem was you were a one-of-a-kind, naturally gifted with vocal cords, so sweet and sultry everyone fell for you. Your varying music genres make you an addiction to almost any music fanatic. You were the singer of your time. 
How did you keep that title for so long? Simply put, due to becoming the designated ‘shot of espresso everyone needs to wake up and have a good day,’ your fans were less than kind to any new artists or rising stars. You were an Angle, sweet inside and out, never letting your fame get to your head. However, many scandals and theories have been made that people can never surpass you because you sold your soul or hired people to knock down your competition. None of this was true, though. You were simply a bystander to your fan's actions, not wanting to seem unthankful for all the support that got you there.
Then it happened: your death. One minute, you were walking to the coffee shop by your apartment in the city when a strange man started yelling at you. Of course, the one day you don’t have a bodyguard leave with you, the paparazzi show up. If only that man were a paparazzi; as he got closer, you noticed the lack of camera, the deranged look in his eyes, and the shirt he wore saying, ‘Y/N be my wife.’ All you could think of doing at that moment was trying to make some distance between you and him, seeing as the streets were barren since it was late at night. Why did your best music writing have to happen late at night? Running as fast as you could, the man grew angry, and then bam, next thing you know, you wake up on the streets of a city, not your city; no, this was too red.
As you stood up from your prone position, you glanced at a window only to see not you standing there; well, it was you. It looked like you, but it also didn't look like you. Soft tan skin, chocolate brown hair, Hazel eyes, and a white, tan, and brown outfit adorned your body. You looked like the embodiment of the coffee you would drink at your go-to coffee spot. If only you hadn’t gone there that night. Maybe you would be your normal (E/c), (H/c), (S/c) self. 
Thinking hard about everything that happened, you remember being chased, him yelling obscenities at you, being shoved to the ground, something warm on your face, then a loud bang noise. What was that bang? You only remember the warm, sticky feeling, probably blood from hitting your head on the curb, then you fought a bit, squirming around; the bang must have been a concealed weapon of your assailant's choice. Jeeze, people are crazy…Oh fuck, your dead. You died. Gone. A memory. As this realization came to you, you began walking the streets of this new city.
All the inhabitants of this place looked like those demons you would see on TV or even read about in books. Looking up at the horizon, you see a large building with a flashing sign called the “Hazbin Hotel,” a giant ball to the left that looked like it had wings on it, and above you, a giant pentagram. The pieces finally clicked: you were in Hell, but why you were the sweetest human alive, even fame, didn’t get to you. Maybe Heaven reads tabloids and assumes you did participate in the fate of many of your rivals or that they thought you were a greedy pop star. Sighing softly, you turn your back on the hotel and make your way to the first place that helped you start up in the human world: a cheap manager at a cheap venue. 
~~~Years Later~~~
Years had passed since Mimzy and her crew had taken you in. She was the only demon in Pentagram City that didn’t ask for your soul immediately. Course, as you found out yourself, it’s because her soul, too, was taken from her. Meeting Mimzy was a breath of fresh air; she reminded you of your grandmother and all the pictures you saw of her singing and dancing at nightclubs when she was your age. Mimzy took you under her wing, gave you a palace to sing your sweet new music, and protected you with her clientele. Mimzy did have a habit of getting herself into some deep shit, though. Nothing you couldn’t help with, see as your popularity in Pentagram City grew, so did your powers. Some even compared you to Lilith when she was still around, a voice to conjoin the masses. You were no Lilith; you were simply ‘Y/N,’ so you compromised for a reprise of your old title: ‘ A shot of espresso to keep you going.’ Honestly, who knew demons still partook in human drinks and activities? 
As you began preparing for your next act at Mimzy’s club, said woman entered your dressing room. “Doll, oh, look at you so gorgeous. You're not as gorgeous as me, but you're still amazing. I have big news for ya’ Come and sit with me, deary.” Following Mimzy’s orders, you went to the small sofa in your Dressing Room and sat with her. “What is it, Mimz? Did you get in more trouble with those loan sharks? I told you they are dangerous; this owner of your soul is a real slow ass seeing as I have to save their ‘precious’ soul over and over again.” 
Mimzy just laughed, waving her hand in your face, resituating herself to look you in the eye before speaking again: " Don't worry about that doll. Of course, I would keep that opinion to yourself. He’s back and probably can hear everything around us. Speaking of which, that is why I came here. My dear friend Alastor and the princess of hell are coming to visit our lovely establishment. Make sure to knock their socks off!” 
You nodded softly to Mimzy, laughing at her; she was a firecracker of energy—a troublemaker, yes, but a firecracker of energy. Mimzy quickly excused herself, saying she needed to be ready to meet her guests and introduce the acts for the night. You sighed softly, returning to double-check your makeup and clothes again. 
Looking like a gorgeous espresso martini, as Mimzy calls it, you stood center stage, waiting for the curtain to rise. You hear Mimzy’s tiny heels hitting the stage and some mic feedback. “Ladies and gentlemen, I bring you our star of the stage, your shot of espresso to boost you through hard times, our dame so beautiful and sweet, Y/N.” Cheers erupted in the audience as the curtain rose and a soft amber spotlight landed on you. 
Looking out into the audience, you hesitated for a minute. A handsome man in a red suit sat in the center of the tables. He looked like a deer, not the oddest thing you have seen in the city. The way he was looking at you, though, was intense. You felt the need to cringe and back away like his power exceeded that of an average Sinner. He looked dominating, powerful, and scary even though he had a giant smile plastered on his face. Next to him sat a young-looking girl with big red cheeks. She looked so happy to be present at this event. Her blonde hair was pulled into a bun on her head, with a black crown adoring her. Your boss, Mimzy, was on the other side of the smiling demon, giving you a big thumbs up. 
You took a deep breath when the song started to play on the drums and guitar behind you. You began to sing the song that had never been released to the public before you died. This was an important night for Mimzy, so why not go all out? As you began to sing, the nerves washed off of you, and you started to do your choreography, but you couldn’t shake the feeling of deep red eyes following your every move. As the song ended, you stopped center stage again, a soft, elegant smile gracing your face. “ Thank you so much, everyone. That was called Espresso, and I do hope you all enjoyed it. I will freshen up; please enjoy our band as they play some classic and new hits throughout the ages.” As you bowed and motioned to the band, they began to play. You walked off the stage, quickly stopping at your dressing room before heading to the floor and meeting the others at their table. 
You finally heard this mysterious, powerful demon's voice as you approached the table. “I never took you as the kind to allow other music in your establishment, Mimzy. Weren’t you also one always found of our time's music.” Mimzy just laughed, slapping the demon's arm. Stopping behind the group, you noticed the demon's ears pull back; he knew you were there, good. You cleared your throat for the others and spoke gently, “I’m sorry. Was there a problem with my song, sir? I didn't realize I would be in the presence of a music critic in hell.” 
The tension in the club could be cut with a knife as the demon let out a soft laugh and turned to view you. The young girl beside him was visibly panicking while Mimzy held a laugh back. The demon stood, bowing slightly and extending his hand to you. “Well, dear Y/N, it's nice to meet you. My name is Alastor the Radio Demon, and if you would like to call me whatever it was, you just made music by all means; I must be your critic.” That smile on his face never faltered. It stayed plastered there, if not a little more strained. Gently taking Alastors hand, you curtsied for him and stood straight and tall again, preparing to speak. “Well, Mr. Alastor, you don't seem to have good music taste, seeing as I am a prized singer in hell.” The two of you stared intensely at one another, sparks flying between your eyes. Mimzy cleared her throat, “ Y/N, this is Alastor, as he mentioned, the demon that owns my soul; he also runs the Hazbin Hotel with Miss Charlie Morningstar here.” 
You let go of Alastors hand, breaking eye contact first to greet the young girl. Charlie was the polar opposite of ‘Mr. Music Critic’. She compliments you and tells you how you reminded her of her mother, who has been missing for seven years. Keeping conversation with Charlie, Alastor, and Mimzy began to speak on the side. “Isn’t she interesting, Alastor? She had to have been powerful even in her human form. She may not be your level of scary, but she is something. When I found her within a month, Valentino had come to claim her and ask for her soul; she whooped him physically and mentally; she's quick-witted and cunning.” Alastor nodded knowingly; this could be advantageous to him. 
“Mimzy darling, why have you not sold her off yet? Could make a pretty penny off of her, maybe enough to pay me back for your soul.” Alastor stared at you intently. He couldn’t deny you were attractive in a beauty standard since, and the fact you weren’t afraid of him even if he dominated you in power was intriguing. Mimzy slapped Alastor’s shoulder, “She's like a daughter to me; she's sweet, smart, and a helluva singer. Why would I risk losing business here selling her off to the Vees or any other overlord.”
Tuning into Mimzy’s and Alastor's conversation, you turned to look at the Radio Demon in the eyes once more. “She also can’t get rid of me due to the fact I save her ass more so than you ever have or will.” The authority in your voice even frightened you. The smile on Alastors face tightened more, changing from boredom to interest. “Oh, is that so doll? You save my property for me.” You nod curtly to the demon holding his gaze. The smile slowly morphed into a smirk. Charlie chimes in, “Well, guys, it looks like we have overstayed our welcome; Y/N, you were phenomenal. Please let me know whenever you have your next performance. You have my number!” You nod softly to the cheerful girl before returning to the Radio Demon. 
As you all begin to stand from your seats, Alastor disappears and reappears at your side. “Ms. Y/N, it seems I have a business proposition for you. As Charlie loved your performance so much and I seem to have bad taste in music, how about we strike a deal? You come to the hotel and live there for free; you can sing once a week, and if you can pull in some more sinners looking to be redeemed, I will admit you have the better music. I will also allow you to broadcast your music on my radio.” You stared at the demon timidly, but no one made a deal that didn’t involve losing their soul. You brace yourself for the answer and speak purposefully, “What is it for you if I lose?” Alastor smiled at you menacingly, “I get your soul, of course, and you will do my bidding.” 
You hesitated, contorting your face slightly; losing your soul was not something you wanted to happen; no one did. You looked between Alastor and Mimzy rapidly, a slight panic overcoming you. As you go to speak, Charlie takes your place, “ Alright, Alastor, enough scaring people; we are leaving now. Let's go.” Alastor looked at Charlie before looking back at you. He nods slightly before saying, “I will return in the morning. Have your decision ready.” With that said, the duo left the club.
The night continued like normal; you sang a couple more songs and mulled over the conversation. You won't lie even if you were sweet on earth. Being here in hell made you a lot more prideful than when you were alive. Had someone offered such a stupid bet in the human world, you would politely decline, move on, and let your fans handle them. Alastor, though, something about him and this stupid condescending attitude made your blood boil. As the night closed, you came up with your decision. You went to your dressing room and began to pack a bag for the morning. You were so wrapped in your thoughts hating that stupid Radio Demon that you didn't hear Mimzy walk in. As you finished packing and turned around, Mimzy sat on your couch, a frown on her face. Setting everything down, you walked over to her and sat with her. 
Mimzy looked at you softly, her regular, boisterous exterior fading as her calmer interior emerged. “Y/N, you don’t have to do this. I shouldn’t have done this. I only invited them to show Al how much better I was doing even after his absence. I didn’t expect him to bargain your soul with him.” You gently grabbed Mimzy's hand and looked at her, “Mimz, I got this. I am one of the best singers in hell. I will not lose my soul, and maybe I can bargain him into freeing your soul-” Before you could finish your thought, Mimzy stood up, tears in her eyes, “NO Y/N! You-You don't understand; Alastor is a notorious and powerful demon. He won’t give up mine or your soul. There is always an underlying bargain in his deals.” You looked up at Mimzy. She had never yelled at you like that before, even after ruining her favorite pink dress. Mimzy sat down gently and hugged you close before letting go. “Let me tell you Al’s story, the best I know of it anyway.” 
Even after hearing Mimzy’s story, you are set on proving yourself. Why did you feel the need to? You could only chalk it up to wanting to wipe that stupid smile off the demon's face. You stood outside the entrance of Mimzy’s club, holding her hand. “Y/N, you don't have to do this. Just ignore him.” You shook your head at Mimzy before responding. “I can do this, Mimzy. Trust me. You know where I am if you ever need me.” She nods somberly and hugs you close. The Radio Demon appears out of the shadows as you two part ways. “Hello ladies, Y/N, Mimzy, what a touching display of affection. Are you ready to strike our deal, Y/N?” You nod gently, extending your hand to the demon. With a soft chuckle, he grabbed your hand. Greenlight erupted all around you. Shadows and relic symbols appeared around you as the deal was bound. As the green lights faded, you were sucked into the shadows with Alastor and taken to a Hotel on the other side of Pentagram City. 
The hotel was lovely, nothing too overwhelming like when you were still alive. It was quaint and adorable. You could tell that Charlie put her heart into the place. Walking through the entrance to your left, you notice a bar with a black and grey cat sitting there drinking. Taking the initiative and having the desire to start already pissing the Radio Demon off, you walked away to greet the cat. “Hello, there one espresso martini, please; my name is Y/N, and I’m going to be a new resident and singer for the hotel.” Hearing your words, the cat looked up at you, practically spitting his whiskey onto the bar before collecting himself and cleaning up. In a gruff voice, he responded, “Never thought I would see the day we got more willing redeemers. Thought Sir Pentious would be our only one.” 
You laughed, covering your mouth politely as the cat put your drink before you. As he finished wiping the bar down, Alastor appeared behind you. “Ahhhh, good friend, you have met our new resident artist. Y/N, this is Husk or Husker, as some patrons call him.” You nodded politely to the cat demon, sipping your drink. Alastor sat next to you, staring the cat down. He acted like it was a sin that Husk even talked to you. As you finished your glass, a spider demon walked into the building, groaning about his day at work, sitting on your other side, and ordering a straight martini.
As he rose his head up, looking to great Alastor, he saw you. “WOAH toots, who are ya’ you gorgeous? I didn’t know another pretty thing like me walked these streets.” You smiled sweetly at the spider demon, sticking your hand out to shake his hand. You liked him. He had spunk. “My name is Y/N, and I am the new resident singer of this joint.” Silence filled the room; the spider demon's eyes widened. Looking at him confused, you pulled your hand back and awkwardly sat there. Behind you, Alastors voice rang, “Yes, dear flamboyant friend, that Y/N, the one who took Valentino down a few pegs before he became part of the Vees.” 
The spider's smile grew ten times as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder, “Toots, let's be best friends, deal. My name is Angel Dust. It's a pleasure to meet you.” You laughed softly, connecting that this Angel Dust might be the soul of that awful month. “Deal, I need new friends now that I am out of Mimzys club.” Husker dropped his bottle, causing a shattering noise as he turned to stare down Alastor. “You were Mimzy’s singer; what are you doing here?” Alastor stared down Husker, the ever-growing smile present on his face as power exuded off of him. “Simple Husk, can’t you tell she's in a deal with me.” The room went silent as you looked down at your hands. Based on everyone's reactions, you soon realized you were fucked. 
The tension was thick between the three of you, Angel silent, not daring to interfere in a soul contract, Husker glaring at Alastor, and the Radio Demon eating up everyones distrust. What felt like hours passing was only a few minutes when Charlie and another woman appeared walking down the stairs. “I am telling you, Vaggie, I heard a new voice.” Your eyes connected with Charlie when she let out an excited squeal, barreling down to you. You laughed softly, happy the tension was broken, and hugged the excited girl back. “Oh my goodness, you came here! Are you trying to be redeemed? I am so excited! Vaggie, this is the singer I told you about!” You looked at the other girl and waved at her. When Alastor stood, she nodded back, getting ready to speak to you; however, Alastor had removed Charlie from your embrace. “Sorry, dear Charlie, but Y/N is part of my deal. She will be a new singer for the hotel, as Husk is the bartender, and Niffty the cleaner.” 
As if hearing her name, a tiny, child-looking demon crawled from the depths of somewhere and sat on Alastors shoulder. “Wowie lady, you must sing well for Alastor to vouch for you. You aren’t no bad boy, but you look like you could be tough.” You stood wide-eyed in shock at the minor demon that seemed to spawn into existence. Alastor stood beside you, shooing Niffty off him and placing a firm hand on your shoulder. “Alright, dear Y/N, why don’t I show you to the drawing room where you will perform? You have three days before your big performance.” Everyone looked at the hand placed on your shoulder, confusion laced on their faces. Was Alastor, not a touchy person? All you’ve known of this man was for him to be touching you in some dominating way. You nodded briefly, following the demon to the drawing room. 
You had been practicing hard for the last three days. You met Sir Pentious while in the middle of a practice performance. He was apparently your biggest fan and regularly played your music in his blimp. You signed some autographs for him and told him he was welcome to come and watch whenever he felt like it. Of course, he never did come back while you were practicing. Angel Dust said Alastor frightened the snake demon, who was “getting too close to you and distracting you.” This only confused you: why is Alastor so against any demon getting close to you except for the striking spider demon? Two, why does he care if you get distracted? Shouldn’t he want you to lose so he can keep your soul? These thoughts plagued your mind every day as you practiced. You decided to do a four-song set, your three most popular songs and the new one you debuted at Mimzys place before you left, as a nod back to your old home. 
Throughout your days here, you have noticed so many odd quirks about these residents, but nothing too crazy. I mean, it is hell after all. Angel Dust was a famed porn star for Valentino; Husker used to gamble at the high-end casino in town; Nifty liked cock roaches; Charlie and Vaggie were fighting with Heaven about Sinners being redeemed. Even Sir Pentious had a past saying he tried to kill Alastor, which made you laugh and congratulate the snake demon. The only major oddball was Alastor; every resident said he was acting different, more pompous, possessive, and aggressive. Before you showed up in his life, he was just a condescending asshole who smiled all the time and had a wicked sarcasm streak. 
What made you special? You have been nothing but mean to this man, trying to get a rise out of him and knock him down a few pegs. The main consense from every resident after they learned of your deal is to be careful; he's a master manipulator. The tidbits of information you learned of Alastor were as follows: he hosted a radio show that, up until seven years ago, played screams of his victims; he still very much missed the 1920s; Jazz was his favorite music, makes sense why he hated your pop music, and lastly like any true child of the bayou he enjoyed his coffee, his coffee with three shots of espresso. No wonder the man was wired 24/7. 
Alastor was also not a touchy man; the only person any resident had seen him touch so constantly was you. Why? No one knows the answer; Angel Dust has his theories that he “has the hots for ya toots.” You couldn’t help but laugh at that notion. The pompous, rude, robust, attractive, funny, charismatic Deer Demon didn't have a thing for you. Okay, yes, you have a thing for him, though; what changed in the three days of getting close to him and everyone else? You have no real idea; you only know that the day you realized you had more than aggressive feelings for him was two nights ago.
~~~Flashback~~~
You had been summoned to the famed radio tower by Alastor. He had a treat for you, as he put it. Following Niffty's instructions, you ended up before the radio demon's door. Now you heard the rumors already he killed and broadcasted in his tower. Did your deal mean nothing? Was it a ruse to get rid of someone with a little bit of power? You must have been standing there for too long in your thoughts because before you knew it, Alastor had opened the door for you. “Ah, dear Y/N, come on in. We have a broadcast to get to.” You nodded gently and followed him inside. 
Taking your place beside Alastor, you notice how cluttered his desk is. You stifle a laugh; the thought of the infamous radio demon who looked so clean and polished having anything untidy amused you. You see Alastor pouring his regular coffee as you turn to the small end table with some chairs. “Alastor, I never would have taken you for a coffee drinker. You seem more refined to like English teas or other sophisticated drinks.”
Alastor just looked at you with a small, unstrained smile. As he finished his drink and poured you one, he said, “Nonsense dear Y/N coffee is highly sophisticated; Louisiana was a large export of coffee grounds we lived for this drink. Coffee was the way to go when we needed to work long hours tending to fields or making ends meet at factories.” You nodded gently, amazed that this man remembered his life so well after so long. While you sat and drank your coffee, Alastor got up to prepare the broadcast. While he was busy, you took this time to examine the Deer Demon in more detail. 
He was handsome; his fringe was odd but suited him well, the unforced smile looked attractive, and his suit was perfectly fitted, leaving just enough imagination about what lay underneath. As you caught yourself having this thought, you shook your head, setting your cup down violently. Alastor turned to look at you, his smile still soft but a questioning look in his eyes. You coughed softly into your napkin and stood to meet Alastor at his desk before speaking. “So Al, what is it you need of me.” His reaction to the nickname did not go unnoticed.
Now, the original reason you decided to use the nickname he hated was to get under his skin, but instead of doing that, he smiled at you wider. Gently, he placed a microphone and headphones in your hand. You looked up at him with a curious gaze. “I believe that for people to know you are here at the hotel and will sing, they need a sample. We may have a deal on the line, but I am no cheater.” You nodded, smiling at him; maybe he wasn’t so bad. As the broadcast started, though, the same pompous ass hole came out. Boasting about being missed and how he can't wait to give Sinners of hell an actual broadcast, he introduced you. “Now, my dear patrons, I introduce Y/N. Some of you may know her and even love her, but tonight she will be singing a song for you, a taste into her performance that will be happening here at the Hazbin Hotel in two days.” 
You gripped the microphone and started singing one of your more classic songs. Only the people at Mimzys club that night had heard the new song, and you didn't want to ruin the surprise you had been working on for your concert. As you sang, you couldn’t help but notice the red eyes boring into you. Was Alastor checking you out? No, of course not. This is just to even out the deal. However, how his eyes softened and he hummed gently to your tune made your heart flutter. He sure learned one of your songs for someone who hated your music. 
As you finished your part in his broadcast, Alastor played some old-time Jazz, muting the mics before leading you out the door. You said your goodnights and began to walk away when Alastor grabbed your arm. You turned to look at him, a sweet, innocent look in your eyes; a part of you wanted him to kiss you right there. However, you could see his conflict. After a few seconds of staring at one another, Alastor let go of your arm and cleared his throat, “Good night, Y/N. Be prepared for our deal.” You nodded, and before you could ask him what was wrong, the door was closed and locked in your face.
~~~Present Day~~~
The day you had finally come for your concert. You had spent most of the day resting and preparing for the show. It had been over a week since your last live performance. You took your time getting prepared, wanting everything to be perfect. You double-checked your hair outfit and even dabbed on an old perfume you found while shopping with Angel. Did you buy this specific sent because it was trendy in the 1920s? No, of course not. You weren't trying to impress the famed Radio Demon during your performance tonight. It finally dawned on you as you did your last touches. You either become soulless tonight or beat the Radio Demon. A shiver ran down your back; you were so caught up in falling for the man that you forgot he was ruthless and owned you now. It's not that you minded the owning part; you minded the soulless part. 
A soft knock was heard at your door, and you released a quiet “come in.” As you turned from your vanity to see who had entered, before you stood, Mimzy, you ran to your mentor and hugged her close. “You came, you came. I thought you would be too mad at me to come.” Mimzy slapped your shoulder gently before speaking. “When have I missed one of your shows since you started working for me? Plus, Alastor personally invited me and gave me a front seat. I don’t know if it's to torment me that he's going to take your soul or if mister Deer likes you.” Mimzy began nudging your side. You stifled an almost forced laugh, your cheeks growing warm. “Mimzy, you need to lay off the alcohol. That is an absurd statement. Alastor doesn’t like me.” She gave you a knowing look. “You may think he doesn’t like you, but I can tell you sure like him.” You looked away at the floor.
Mimzy gave you a few more encouraging words before returning to the drawing room. According to Mimzy, there was already a large number of people filling the place. Charlie must be going nuts trying to recruit people. With a final glance in the mirror, you began to walk to your call point. Instead of your average tan and brown ensemble, you wore an elegant blood-red dress for tonight's performance. One that just so happened to be in your closet this morning when you started to get ready. You did your hair up and let some pieces frame your face, your makeup soft and subtle, giving you a sweet, angelic look.
Charlie introduced you to the crowd; as you took center stage and waited for everyone to calm down, you began your set. You looked out to the crowd like you did all those nights ago, and sitting right in front of you were your new friends and him. He didn’t look smug or dominating this time. No, this time, he looked calm and compassionate. Even if you looked hard enough, it almost looked like he was enjoying himself. He wore a suit practically identical to your dress in color. You promoted the hotel between each song as you sang. Your first three songs went perfectly, keeping the crowd entertained to the fullest as you always did. Once your last song died down, the crowd erupted. 
A slow interlude played as you spoke softly: "I wrote this last song a long time ago when I was alive. I have only sung this song once at Mimzy Speakeasy, so if you were one of the lucky few to hear it, please feel free to sing along and enjoy it to the fullest this time.” You smiled softly before landing your eyes on Alastor. You don’t know what possessed you to sing this song, looking directly at him, but you couldn’t help it. You felt compelled, too. As the begging notes to Espresso started playing, a small group of people cheered, including Charlie. 
You began your normal choreography and sang your heart out, never taking your eyes off of Alastor for long, and from what you saw, he never took his eyes off of you for long, either. Singing your heart out as you finished the outro of the song you posed, letting the cheers and lights fade out. Charlie rushed to the stage and informed everyone about food, refreshments, and signing up to join the hotel. You, however, hid behind the curtains, blushing. Why was he looking at you so intently? Why were you suddenly so shy and concerned you sang poorly? You always had confidence in your singing.
Collecting yourself, you quickly refreshed your look in the bathroom before joining the after/recruiting party. As you were going down the hotel hall to get to the main part of the drawing room, an uneasy feeling hit you. An anxious, familiar feeling. You turn your head, and down the hall, you see a man making his way towards you. You turn around and keep walking, ignoring his shouts as you try to beeline for the entryway. You are panting at this point, memories of your death coming back to you, everything feeling too close to that moment. Just as you are about to turn the corner into the doors for the drawing room, the man reaches out for you. You brace for impact; however, nothing happens. You hear sickly screams emanating from before you as a pair of arms gently encase you in a protective embrace. As you open your eyes, you see shadows tearing the man who looked to be a part of the Vees team apart. Alastor covered your eyes before walking you back towards your room.
You didn’t even realize you had begun to cry or shake when you got to your room. The anxiety of reliving that night you died catching up to you. Alastor never let you go, even after you got to the safety of your room. Once you calmed down, Alastor went to the bathroom connected to your room. You sat there holding your face in your hands, probably looking like a mess from your actions. Alastor re-entered the room and brought you a fresh, damp towel. “To wash your face off; you probably don’t want all that on you anymore.” You nodded softly and began to wipe your face. Alastor scoffed, then took the towel from you, crouching down. Alastor gently held your face and began to clean it off. You two never broke eye contact. He was so gentle.
After your face was cleaned, Alastor took the pins out of your hair and went to find some more comfortable clothes for you. You were ushered into the bathroom and began to change when, through the door, Alastor began to speak. “Did he hurt you at all? I tried to get there as fast as I could. Before you came on, Mimzy was telling me about the night you died. I assume the Vees and their minions must have overheard and, in an attempt to weaken your resolve, make you remember that night.” You sniffled lightly, slowly opening the door, and you looked up at Alastor. Where was a man like him when you died? No, where was he when you passed that night? A choked sob left your lips as you hugged him close to you, crying into his shoulder. Alastor was amiss on what to do, but slowly, as you cried, wrapped his arms around you as well. 
As the tears faded, a green glow surrounded you and Alastor again, like when you first made the deal. No one signed up for Charlie's hotel, whether because the demon was mutilated one door over or because you didn’t come to socialize with the guests. It didn’t matter; Alastor had your soul now. Oddly enough, you weren’t as upset by this as you anticipated; you were happy about this. You felt safe, protected even. 
Alastor bid his farewell to you after you had finally calmed down. Neither one of you speaking about the contract or lost deal. You lay in bed, exhausted from all the crying and anxiety. As you drifted off to sleep, you saw your assailant again. This wasn’t an uncommon dream for you, but this time, it hurt worse due to the raw emotions. However, just as you were about to die again for the millionth time in this dream, a man dressed in red with brown hair and a soft smile protected you and saved you. 
You had been asleep for a little less than 24 hours when you woke next. Your body needed a recharge. You made your way to the kitchen to make some coffee; if you were staying at the hotel to sing, you could start putting together new songs and programs. You made your drink, noticing that Alastor's cup was missing from the cabinet. Taking your hot coffee back upstairs, you passed the hall to your room when you heard a piano playing your song Espresso. 
You made your way to the door and entered quietly to find Alastor playing your song, humming quietly in tune. You knocked gently and said, " Al, if you wanted a concert yourself, I would have given you one.” You smile softly. Alastor, unfazed by your appearance, probably already knowing you were there, hummed in amusement before speaking. “As a thank you, why don’t we perform a duet for me saving you?”  You made your way over to the piano, sitting down next to him and setting your coffee cup next to his on the piano. 
He began to play the start of the song, and you two began to sing together. Softly, you rest your head on his shoulder, allowing yourself to be vulnerable with your feelings for the man next to you. You had never sung this song like this before, and it felt special between you two. Some of you began to believe that this song was made for you and Alastor. Before you died, you knew you would meet your match—someone who met you as an equal yet also an opposite. Alastor finished the last few notes of the song. Comfortable silence surrounds you. 
Alastor smiled more naturally, “You know, Y/N, I do like your music. It did catch me off guard the first time I heard it, but your music has a lot of truths in it.” You look up at him from his shoulder, listening to his words. “From the moment I looked at you, I couldn’t get enough of you; when I met you, and you challenged me almost instantly, I knew I had to have you. You keep me awake at night thinking about everything that has happened between us in the last few weeks.” You smile softly, thinking back to the lyrics of your song. You lean up gently and place a kiss on Alastors cheek. He laughs softly when he turns to look at you thoroughly. “I’m sorry, doll, but you may have misunderstood me. I like you a lot; I feel that deserves more than a mere peck on the cheek.” You laugh wholeheartedly, this time without covering it up, before placing a soft, chaste kiss on Alastors lips. You pulled back, both of you smiling. “Now that’s an espresso I would happily take any time.” You laugh at his antics before placing your hands on the piano, now playing an old song you remembered from when you were a kid. 
All was well. Who would challenge the infamous Radio Demon, especially now that he had the notorious addictive ‘Espresso’ singer as his girlfriend? With your powers combined, he could overcome the deal he made, but that is a story for another time.
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waitineedaname · 7 months
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Al coming back from his travels: Xing was great! I've learned so much about alkahestry, and I think we're really making progress and getting Jerso and Zampano's bodies back! It was really nice to see Mei, and Ling is doing a great job as emperor, and I even got to visit some of Xing's neighbors to the east! I feel like I'm learning more about alchemy and alkahestry every day
Ed coming back from his travels: I Have Been Banned From Five Countries
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erabu-san · 10 months
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Hmm I apologize again for the rant !
It is not the first time I am doing it. I might forgot to put "please don't tag it as ship" under my drawing of tighnari cyno. Please, do not !
I love them as best friend, I love them as brother/found family, I don't mind the queerplatonic relationship at all
But their romantic side make me pretty uncomfortable. No hate ! It is my own taste.
Shippers are always welcomed and I am so glad you like my content 💕 but all my art concerning them (unless I tag the ship) are purely platonic. I just ask for some respect of my taste and not reblog my art with the ship tag.
I don't want to block, because I am genuinely glad you enjoy my work and as a young artist, it means a lot for me. Thank you so much 🙇 !! But as a human, I can't deny how uneasy it makes me feel.
Thank you for understanding !
#rant#I blame nobody#i am clearly not used to block ): I should tho but I know those who tag ship are not mean at all </3#it is fine if you don't know.#but i saw people reblogging my art with shiptag even if i said “do not”#my art is like my only safe place please respect it#this ship is so popular and I clearly stop to interact with the fandom because of that#i clearly ignore when I saw one in my timeline /dashboard becausz I can't do nothinf against it except masking the account#but I beg you. not. under. my. post.#not in my DM#why i feel obligated to justify myself 😭#but yeah !!! the ship is valid and full of greenflag !! wholesome !!#but I only enjoy them platonically !!! please respect 😭😭😭 I SWEAR I AM DESESPERATE WHY IT IS SO HARD FOR SOME TO RESPECT THAT OMG#gosh on twitter someone said me “ignore ??? what did you expect ??? it is the most popular ship”#I AM TRYING I AM LITERALLY NOT SEARCHING FOR FANART 😀#feeding myself with my own food#that's why I am so grateful for people who support me. thank you. 😭#and how could I ignore a comment under my post ??? interaction are so important for me I read everything#ANYWAY SORRY FOR RANTING !!! IT IS CLEARLY A /NOTMEAN POST !!!#next time I won't forgrt “do not tag it as ship”#but urgh if I do this I have to do in every post ???? 🤨#and what if I draw tighnari cyno kaveh but I don't mind ship with kaveh ??? 🤨🤨🤨 (plz still don't)#tHERE IS PLENTY OF CYN0N4RI ACCOUNT IF YOU WISH TO SEE MORE CONTENT OF THEM !! Please support them <<3 mine are platonic !#but clearly. imagine you are obsessive about two characters <<3#but their popular ship is the one who make you the most uncomfy 😀#so you decided to just stop looking at fanart and not bothering anyone 👍👍#but it came under your post and your DM 😟#AAA SORRY I AM SALTY I SWEAR I AM NOT USED TO FEEL LIKE THIS ):<#anyway plz take care ilove you mwah 🥺🥺🥺🥺💕💕
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shitpostingkats · 6 months
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I'm nearly cryign laughing. I had to pause and full on slap my knee. Revolver, you can't just say that.
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dreamsy990 · 8 months
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an idea for a scene from my au thats been sitting in my head for a while. im not gonna elaborate [please do not tag as ship!!]
bonus
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progress
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Comte Election Story, 6th Anniversary Event (JPN 2023)
I managed to get Comte's collection story during the 6th year anniversary event in the JPN version of the game. As usual, my translation skills are rudimentary at best, so this is just a rough/general sense of the contents. Rest of the translation is below the cut:
Sweet and lovely, our everyday life is irreplaceable. After becoming a vampire, I’ve lived with him forever like this. I seek out more and more of the man I love than anyone else--
Comte: Good morning, MC. You’re up very early today.
I went down to the dining room a few hours before dawn--only to find Comte nursing a teacup gracefully at one end of the table.
MC: Good morning. I managed to wake up somehow…how about you?
Comte: Actually, I just got back.
When I asked, he told me that the host of the party started talking to him all night, and they didn’t part ways until after midnight.
Comte: I was going to finish this cup of tea to unwind, and then try to rest til noon.
He runs a hand through his freshly washed hair and brings the cup to his mouth in a series of elegant gestures that makes me fall in love with him all over again. I’m not sure if it’s because I’ve been up all night, but my heart readily starts beating faster.
Even Comte seems to notice my reaction…
Comte: …looking at me like that, are you seducing me?
Comte's eyes narrowed mischievously and he left his cup behind to approach me. A beautiful beast gazed at me as if to take aim at his prey, and he drew me in with supple hands.
MC: I didn’t intend it that way but…it’s true that I'm captivated. Your damp hair and lovely gestures are so sexy that I’m at a loss…
Comte: Saying such a thing…you’re a naughty woman, MC. Even though I tried to quell my ardor with a cold shower and hot tea...I’m glad to hear it, even though I’m far from calm.
When I raised my head--having looked down in bashful embarrassment--I can see burgeoning in Comte’s eyes an indisputable, feverish desire…
MC: Ah, mm…
His soft lips playfully brushed against the nape of my neck.
Comte: No one else would be awake at this hour…though we could be interrupted any moment. Make sure to keep your voice down.
He chuckled a little before a hot sigh caressed my skin, dropping kisses one after another. He circled around the usual place he’d sink his fangs into me, and every brush of his lips made heat gather low in my body…
MC: So impatient…Abel…
Comte: …I’ve been waiting for you to give it to me
The corners of his lips lifted a little, before he buried his fangs into my neck.
MC: Mn, ah…aaaahh…
Comte: I love you so much...and whenever we aren't together, I’m starved of you. We were miles apart all night yesterday. I’ll show you just how much I missed you.
His voice--half-intoxicated with the ecstasy of my blood--was sweet and husky with his desire.
Comte: Before you, I’m always a love-starved beast.
As I gaze into those eyes burning with emotion, an electric sensation tingles down my spine. 
(Ah, I’m just the same. It’s not only my heart, my body is always seeking you out too.)
MC: Me too…all day and night, I’m always thinking about you…
Comte: --Come here. Take as much of me as you want
At his encouragement and incitement, I sink my fangs into him.
MC: ah, ha…
Pleasure washes over me in an endless cascade, every sensation in my body heightened and sharp. I clenched my hands tighter through his wet hair, and dug my fangs into him greedily to devour that wellspring of ecstasy.��
Comte: I'm happy to be able to share love with you like this, as a vampire.
Like drops of water moistening desiccated earth, every crimson drop fills us to the brim--
#ikevamp#ikemen vampire#ikevamp saint germain#ikevamp comte#ikevamp mc#comte propaganda#if you can't already tell from the contents of this one--i straight up died after reading it#THE IMPLICATIONS. FOAMING AT THE MOUTH.#the way they're both dancing around it. MC trying to be strong and endure properly (girl same) and. comte.#THE WAY COMTE BASICALLY STARTS SHAKING HIS ASS LIKE ONE OF THOSE BIRDS OF PARADISE. I AM UNWELL (AND ECSTATIC).#THE WAY HE WANTS HER TO WANT HIM AS INTENSELY/DESPERATELY AS HE DOES HER. THE WAY HE RELISHES HER BITING HIM HARD.#IM NEVER GONNA RECOVER FROM THIS ONE#ive legit just been that ace attorney meme with phoenix holding his head in his hands for DAYS#dare i even mention 'make sure to keep your voice down.' SIR. SIR ARE YOU SRS RN#man the way in purple moon event he was like 'oh nooooo haha no hank pank in public where we might get caught that's too inappropriate~ owo#I SEE YOU ABEL. I SEE YOU MONSIEUR LE COMTE DE SAINT GERMAIN.#I SEE THAT U SIT UPON A THRONE OF L I E S#i hope whoever writes comte as unhinged as possible over at jpn cybird gets a god damn raise#i have never in my life been so directly catered to in one chara i swear#'loved-starved beast' ILL DO YOU ONE BETTER COMTE JUST LET ME IN. LET ME IIIIIIIIN!!!!!!#straight up ive said it before and ill say it again#that's my emotional support softcore yan meow meow golden retriever#every event im like 'hope this doesn't awaken anything inside me.' and then immediately its just 'failed step one.'#although all jokes aside i do find it endlessly fascinating about the purebloods how like#while they don't experience as much bloodlust there is this acute sense of biting as a vital expression of romantic interest and/or claim#i dont think its a throwaway line that comte says at the end--id actually argue a lot of his desire for intimacy when she's human (cont.)->#is because he feels a level of insecurity in his connection to her caused by the lack of shared/reciprocated biting#you know now that has me wondering if that's part of why other purebloods frown so heavily upon the idea of a pureblood/human couple#basically because they can't fulfill the most basic tenet of what it means to be coupled in that community's perception#yeesh ikevamp really went 'welcome to normative vampire politics' and im like 'I Am So Normal About This. (lie + analyzes)'
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corrodedcoughin · 1 year
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Fantasy au where a group of travelers are escaping the kingdom of Hawkins. They hear of a hidden city - rumoured to keep all outcasts safe from the king of Hawkins’ tyrannical rule, under the protection of a guild of powerful mages and warriors.
They’re given a link, a super secret contact to meet in an inn the town over that will help them escape and find said city.
They come face to face, Strider in fellowship of the ring - style, with Eddie the Banished - gaze sharp and intimidating. They’ve heard the rumours- Hawkins runs rampant with stories of his alleged crimes - namely involving the missing crown prince. Every layman has their version, but it all chalks up to the same fallen Hero and great Villain story.
It’s clear that he is skeptical and very protective of who he brings with him into the city, but the owners of the inn - a gentle lady by the name of Joyce and her equally intimidating husband, Hopper, vouch for them.
It takes some time to get there, they don’t take a direct route to avoid ambushes and the like.
Eddie neither confirms nor denies the stories, in fact he stokes the flames and plays it up - they act as additional protection and armor, an air of “don’t fuck with us.”
Through the bravado and exaggerated stories, they start to learn bits and pieces about Eddie along the way - things that don’t add up. He wears lots of jewellery - he jingles like a cat with a bell when he struts - but one of the party points out that a lot of them look like protection charms, each handmade, possibly by children judging by the make.
He flirts like nobody’s business, but it never goes past that. They had to flee a tavern one time when Eddie blows up over a patron who couldn’t take a “no” a few times too many.
Among his jewellery, Eddie wears a lot of rings. Stacks of silver, gaudy and eccentric, though they spend enough time traveling together to start noticing the sole gold band on his left ring finger.
They do get ambushed once - but manage to fight it off mostly unscathed. Eddie plays it off as usual, but one of them notices him twisting said gold band, brow pinched at night when no one is looking.
He’s also surprisingly sweet - he’s always nice to the kids he encounters, always treats the waitstaff at taverns and shops with respect, he’s protective over the younger members of the travel party when they encounter someone particularly rowdy. They also notice how he picks up little things along the way - snack cakes, hand carved die. “Little gifts,” he tells one of them, with a lopsided grin.
Maybe Eddie the Banished isn’t the villain of this story after all.
When they reach the city - it’s relief - for once in their lives the air tastes like freedom. A bunch of people are there to welcome them and show them around, but mainly they’re there for Eddie. He’s nearly swallowed by a swarm of children, and catches his arms around a girl with mousey brown, shaggy hair (“Birdie” they hear him call her - they think she’s his betrothed for a hot second) before the small sea of people part, and the group of travelers still.
Because at the center of the crowd, though a few years older and in looser, more comfortable clothing than they’ve ever seen him in before, is Crown Prince Steve Harrington.
And before they can think to do anything, Eddie is dropping all of his weapons, bravado completely dropping, face blown open with relief. Then he’s running, and wrapping the other man so tightly in an embrace that they can’t tell which limb belongs to who. They watch them sway gently in the middle of the city square.
“I kept my promise. I came back to you,” they hear Eddie murmur with such reverence, foreheads touching, hands cupping the other man’s face with such gentleness -
And then they’re being ushered away towards the baths, “Birdie” talking a mile a minute about how they must be tired and how they should give the lovebirds a second.
And maybe the rumours and stories were wrong. Maybe it’s a story about freedom and love instead.
Anon…you don’t underSTAND I’ve been craving a fantasy book for so long and this is exactly what I NEED. please I am begging at your table for any scraps you care to share PLEASE 🙏
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ssreeder · 3 months
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he… he was born to be a hero and became a villain… he was born to be a villain and became a hero… no one asked them what they wanted… they don’t even know what they want they don’t even know who they ARE…. they bring out the worst in each other…. they can only be honest with each other and they hate it love it hate it destroy it in the end…. they ruin each others lives…. they don’t regret each other…. if you even care…. I’m gonna apass out
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#WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME????#HELLA WHYYYYY#I swear this is cruel and unusual punishment#you can’t take your talented brain and invest it into dabihawks and pull out the most beautifully tragic words for them#YOU CANT MAKE MY HEART WANT TO CHAIN SMOKE#MY HEART IS CHAINSMOKING#WHY WHY WHYBWHYYYY#Wait why am I thinking you write a MHA fic???#I’m going to go to your ao3 and find out#Hella why do you want me to suffer with you???#I’m trying so hard not to get sucked into their bullshi#But I can’t stop thinking about them now#Seriously the way hawks respond to things with wit and a smile even though his sense of justice is more fucked than even dabi#Dabi sees the injustices in the justice system and he wants to burn it to the ground#& hawks is over here like ‘just not the wings man’#fire is good fire is bad fire is good fire is bad#Hot is good hot is bad hot is soooo good but it’s sooooo bad#Damn it hella stop it#STOP IT#Is is bad to say I do like endeavor?#Are people going to throw shit at me from the back!?#I love myself a flawed character with a fucked up sense of judgement and I’m also a sucker for that character realizing that they fucked up#& then trying to make amends because it’s not too late but it is too late hunny nothing will never be the same as it was and even when it w#It was fucked I mean come on man shotos crying in the dojo because you hurt mommy while touya is imploding in the forest and now they’re#Battling it out for your love while also seemingly rejecting it because they don’t need to be loved (but they need to be loved so badly)#SOMEONE LOVE HAWKS DAMN IT#Haha I love hawks though he’s like welll shit I kind of forgot about my mom I hope she got out ok and Dabi didn’t murder her oh well#Shit happens wow this is a nice apartment maybe I’ll sublease this thing#Make back some of the money she made SELLING ME TO THE FUCKING GOVERNMENT#*deep breath* I’m getting rambling over here
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