Tumgik
#i find it amusing that there's always at least one person who will point out that my birthday is also international cat day
daycourtofficial · 2 months
Text
I am ash from your fire
Summary: Eris retires after a long night to find his mate, the princess of the night court, in his chambers upset.
Author’s note: Rhys is a jackass in this one. Honestly this was supposed to be Eris comforting reader but idk how it flipped at some point and sometimes you just gotta go with where the story takes you 🤷🏼‍♀️ also I’m headcannoning that Eris reads anything and everything he can get his hands on
(1k celebration masterlist 🍾)
Tumblr media
Eris feels his shoulders sag ever so slightly, allowing the formalities of his stature to soften slightly as he moves further into his private chambers.
The only place in the Forest House he can at least somewhat relax. The hues of brown coating the walls, the paintings of hounds and forests covering the walls have been a comfort since his youth.
It was one of the few places Beron never entered. The High Lord would never sully himself by entering into his children’s chambers. No, he’d have word sent to them so they can come to him.
Eris walks towards the bookshelves, long fingers softly gliding over the edges of the leather bindings. His personal library was extensive - books of maps, histories, biographies, all subjects expected of a first-born heir. But also books of poetry, fantasy, and intrigue.
Eris was always a voracious reader, that need for escapism a constant in his life. His hands move on their own accord, searching for something to lose himself in when his ears perk up at a noise in his bedchambers. Unsheathing a dagger from his hip, he moves towards the room, seeing a shadow of movement underneath the door.
He reaches the door, slowly moving his hand to the handle. Once it’s in his hand, he turns it quickly, throwing open the door and pouncing on top of the person in his chambers.
His dagger is held at their throat, determined to find out who sent the risk before disposing of them. A laugh bursts out from under him, his dagger so close to their throat it knicks their throat at their laughs.
“That’s one way to say hello.”
His grip on the dagger falters momentarily, the sweet sounds of his mate’s voice causing him to loosen his hold. He pulls the dagger back, sheathing it back into his pants.
He brushes the hair from your face, taking in your amused look, his other hand going to inspect the slight knick on your throat.
“My precious fox.”
The nickname rolls off his tongue, his senses on high alert at your unexpected presence. He can sense something is off with you, and his eyes roam your body for injury.
Coming up short of any injuries sans the knick he just gave you, he sits on his haunches, grabbing your hands, helping you to sit up. You sit on your legs, keeping a tight hold on Eris’s hands, playing with his fingers.
You pull off one of his rings, sliding it on and off your own fingers, the warm metal soothing your cold hands.
He watches you for a moment, watches your fingers play with the rings he wears every day. He’s never understood your fascination with them, a nervous habit perhaps. He watches as you move the gold ring onto your thumb before pulling you into his arms. The feel of you settles him, and he can finally breathe deeply for the first time in weeks.
He holds you, pressing his face into the side of your neck, breathing in the scent of your hair. He pours what love and devotion he can down the bond, enjoying your presence before he can bring himself to ask why you’re here.
The two of you usually meet in his private cabin, miles and miles from the cruelties of the Forest House. He can’t recall if you’ve ever even been in his private chambers.
You pull back from him, shuffling around so you can sit in between his legs, back pressed to his chest. You know you have to tell him why you’re here, but you can’t look at him while you do it.
You’re not sure what you’ll find from him as you recount your tale.
You take in a breath, deciding to tell him what happened instead of letting him wait.
“Rhys found one of your letters,” you say, not able to look at him. “I was called away while I was reading one of them. It was foolish - I always hide them before leaving my room.”
Something warms in Eris’s chest at the thought of you, courts away from him, pouring over every word in the letters full of love you’d exchange between each other.
Much like he did every night.
“We got into a big fight, and he uh-“
Eris watches the tear slip out, sliding down your face.
“He told me I was no sister of his.”
Eris can’t help the snarl that comes from him, and you gingerly place a hand on his thigh, a motion he knows is grounding the both of you.
“What did his little lackeys have to say?” He spits out, unable to hide his contempt for them as he asks.
His dislike of Cassian and Azriel was no secret, but it took you a long time to coax out of him what about them he disliked.
“Truthfully, I found out how Illyrians treated females and it left a foul taste in my mouth,” he had told you once. It was all you could coax out of him, and perhaps that’s all there was to it.
At his core, Eris defined males by how they treated the females in their lives. Perhaps he assumed that Cassian and Azriel were the same as the other Illyrians and did not want to press further.
“They uh weren’t there,” you reply, “no one else was there. Perhaps he sent them all away so he could throw a fit.”
You laugh a little, thinking of just how red Rhysand’s face had gotten during your fight. You feel Eris’s head lay against your own, his fingers tangling into the strands of your hair.
“He was yelling, screaming about how I was defiling the family name by being with a Vanserra.” You sigh. “Then he began screeching about how you’re awful, you’re terrible, and ‘what about Mor’ and blah blah blah.”
“How’d you respond?” Eris asks, hands idly moving to hold onto yours in a soft grasp.
“I told him to ask Mor about what actually happened that day.”
He hums, allowing you to absentmindedly play with his fingers as you speak.
“He said that Mor would never lie to him. That she would never lie to any of us.” You blow out a breath, “then he said I had been cursed by the Mother to be mated to you.”
Eris knew the words were not your own, but the sound of them on your lips still stung deep in his chest.
“That’s when I told him to fuck off.”
Eris looks down at you as you peer back up at him, adoration, love, and a hint of sadness shines onto you through his gaze.
“We fought back and forth for a while after that. Then, after realizing I wasn’t giving up so easily, he gave me a choice.”
“My family name, my title, my claim to the throne, or you.”
Eris’s grip tightens. You two had spoken about what the worst outcomes would be if you were found out. Neither of you had ever expected Rhys to disown you.
Rhysand, who adored his little sister more than anything. Rhysand, who insisted you were an integral part of his life. Rhysand, who constantly ensured you were safe and happy.
He threw all that away the second he said you would never give up your tiara collection for Eris.
“Oh, my little fox.”
He peers down at you, your eyes wide as you peer up at him, your face upside down.
He knew he’d never get to love you wholly, unabashedly, publicly. He always knew something would come between you. He lets his gaze linger, memorizing the slope of your nose, the curve of your cheeks. His fingers move and, without his prompting, they start gliding across your face. They move as if he were studying it, preparing himself to have to recognize you in blindness.
To only see you in the darkest hour of the night, when his fingers can retrace these patterns, and pretend you’re next to him again.
He could, he thinks. He’d recognize you anywhere. His breath is shaky, knowing he will have to wait until you two are gone from this world to be together.
He would spend the entirety of his afterlife searching for you, in whatever form you took. If you were nothing more than stardust, a gentle whisper on the wind every Starfall, his flame would burn higher that day, reaching out for you one last time.
He resigns himself to these last few minutes with you, but he doesn’t feel the despair in his heart mirrored in your own.
You feel hopeful. You feel open.
He can’t ask, but you know he needs to hear it.
“I am no longer the Princess of the Night Court.”
Hot tears pour down his face, and he struggles to keep his mouth closed to keep from gasping at your decision. A tear falls onto your face beneath his, splashing across your cheek.
“I am officially without a name, without a home, and with no title,” your voice full of more determination than Eris could imagine, “I humbly ask if you could provide these things for me.”
A strangled sob breaks from him, and you twist in his arms to hold him. Surprise takes over your face, utter shock cascading through the bond before you can stop it.
Eris Vanserra, heir to the Autumn Court, a master of masks and facades, always playing the sly courtier three steps ahead. Never in all the years have you known him have you ever seen him so emotional.
Eris looks to the ceiling as you throw your arms around him, embracing him tightly. The heat from his hands was clawing at your back, but it didn’t burn.
You shushed him as he continued crying into your hair, the sight of him becoming undone such a shock to your system.
“I apologize, my love, deeply and truly.”
His hands stay on you, every inch of you needing to make that contact with him.
For so long, his life revolved around choices he was not privy to, choices that were not his. He was a pawn in an ever tiring game, one he was trying to make his way out of.
He presses you into him, unable to believe that someone, anyone, especially you, would choose him.
You chose him. You chose him the day the bond had snapped, and you chose him now, when everything was on the line for you.
He knew that he would make the same choice, putting everything on the line for you, preparing to finally take down Beron.
“I choose you too.”
1K notes · View notes
tnsophiaonly · 29 days
Text
Uh just a thought:
cw: yandere, cussing, bad grammar, scara being scara, Childe is Childe, fatui, blood is mentioned at least 1 time
Tumblr media
Imagine a Y/N\Reader who does everything for their family, so like your brother/sister/mother/father anyone you love!! got super sick and the cure for it is expensive as hell! (8,765,432,765 mora)
So you work for the fatui to get better expenses, you were skilled enough to immediately be recognized by your superiors—ahem, harbingers— and the first one to recognize you was Childe. Childe is just so down bad for you, he loves fighting with you, anything that gets your attention, if he could, he'd always have you by his side when he does missions.
And there's this thing, your fellow friend (who's been to the fatui far longer than you) in the fatui had a gambling habit and would make bets. One time they talked about giving away millions of mora to whoever gets to be The Balladeer's secretary and survive for 3 months.
You, eager for the mora, you immediately did too well, acted like you were obsessed with him to amuse him, did so many things to the point of getting Scaramouche's attention, he finally made you his assistant.
Of course Childe is pissed as fuck. How dare this midget get you before him??!!
At first Scara was just humoring your fake obsessive behavior just for entertainment, telling himself he'd throw you away soon and laugh at your fake reactions.
3 months passed and Scaramouche started humoring another fatui agent in an attempt to get you to break and snap and make you jealous, you used that opportunity to slowly part ways from him. He took a whole week to notice how you were basically disappearing from his life. You didn't leave the work though, you did the remaining paperwork and missions before disappearing.
Scaramouche who slowly notices the difference in his life when you left, you left a great impact in his life. This new fatui agent he humors doesn't do as well as you do, they keep fucking up to the point that Scara doesn't find it funny anymore. Yeah, he admits, your perfectionist personality helped a lot in his work, you were boring yeah, but at least you got the work done! After yelling and punishing the fatui agent for fucking up again, Scara grits his teeth and walks out to cool himself down.
But that's where he saw you sparring with Childe. Childe is out here feeling gleeful that you were finally back to him, while you just went back to him because you are an agent under him.
The sparring ended with Childe winning, you almost won, but Childe was stronger as expected, he walked up to you and almost gave you a kiss before you pushed him away, shocked. Childe frowns, he keeps you caged in his arms, he doesn't care about the dirt, blood, snow, and sweat that mixes when he has you in his arms, what matters is you.
Scaramouche, gritting his teeth in anger and getting more frustrated and annoyed than ever—why is that obedient pet of his with Tartaglia?— he's mad.
You felt that cold and electric glares sent to you, you nudge your head and saw Scaramouche watching the both of you hug with a blank face, fffuck. You were not supposed to be seen by Scaramouche.
And Childe notices it too, he smirks and holds you closer, nuzzling his cheek on your hair.
Scaramouche was about to rush into both of you and demand an explanation, but why does he care? He isn't supposed to care about something like this! He always said he could replace you anytime, but he never said you could replace him.
Tumblr media
I want to add more harbingers to this thought, imagine Columbina and Arlecchino 😻
583 notes · View notes
anthurak · 4 months
Text
Something I was always a little concerned about in the lead-up to Hazbin Hotel was that Charlie was going to be a bit too passive of a character, ie; leaning only into the ‘kind, optimistic Disney-Princess-in-Hell who just wants to help everyone’ vibe and not really have much else going on as a character. Which in turn would make her feel kind of bland next to the big, over-the-top or dramatic personalities like Angel Dust and Alastor.
But thankfully, that is not what happened and there’s actually a lot that I like about what the writers are doing with Charlie, particularly in the potential future development and reveals they seem to be setting up.
First off, I like how Charlie generally comes off more like an over-the-top caricature of that ‘Disney-Princess-in-Hell’ vibe, ie; SUPER energized, enthusiastic, affectionate and emotional, often to overbearing degrees that get on everyone’s nerves. It’s generally funny, or at least amusing, and lets Charlie stand out alongside the other big personalities in the cast. Funny enough, she’s actually a lot like Blitzo in this regard, minus the seesawing into extreme abrasiveness.
And more importantly, we’ve already gotten major hints all but confirming that this over-the-top personality is largely a façade, and that Charlie actually has some very clear issues and baggage that she’s working VERY hard to keep buried beneath the surface. Again, much like Blitzo.
Like how in the trust-fall exercise in episode three, despite asking everyone to reveal something personal, Charlie actually bullshits just as hard as Angel Dust and Sir Pentious with her whole ‘I love you all!’ bit. Sure, it’s not like she was lying or being insincere, but it’s clear that was NOT something truly personal for Charlie. And in episode 4 we have Husk straight-up calls out Charlie as ‘wanting to solve everyone’s problems but her own’.
Then of course we have the brief glimpses we’ve seen of Charlie getting angry. Both the times we’ve seen Charlie dealing with some truly despicable and horrendous characters, we’ve seen that rather than lacking the ability to get angry, Charlie is often working to hold herself back. In both her encounters with Adam and Valentino we see points where Charlie is clearly NOT intimidated or afraid of them at all and seems fully prepared to throw down, only being stopped by reigning herself in or by someone else (in this case Angel) stopping her.
Again, it all paints Charlie’s big, bubbly, hyperactive exuberance as something of a front, a way for her to bury a lot of thoughts, feelings and general baggage she doesn’t want to face. Just like what the show has already explored with Angel and Husk.
It actually raises some interesting questions as to what’s REALLY driving Charlie in running the hotel and trying to help Sinners. For one, Husk has already pegged Charlie as ‘wanting to solve everyone’s problems but her own’. And going back to thematic crossover with Helluva Boss, I can’t help but see some potential parallels between Charlie creating the Hazbin Hotel, and Blitzo creating Immediate Murder Professionals.
I think it’s pretty clear at this point that half the reason for creating I.M.P. was as a coping mechanism for Blitzo, or rather the assassination business in general. Something that we’ve gotten hints to as early as the second episode in Blitzo’s back and forth with the Robo-Fizz (“Does anyone love you, Blitzo?”/“No. But I’m really good with guns now!”). With the other half of the reason Blitzo created I.M.P. clearly seems to be to create a surrogate family, as seen with how much he tries to insert himself in the M&M’s lives. Possibly even a specific attempt to replace the family he unwittingly destroyed fifteen years ago.
So I really have to wonder if we’re going to find out that Charlie creating the hotel and her goal of redeeming sinners is in part likewise a coping mechanism and escape for her own baggage.
It’s actually really interesting how episode two first introduced the idea of people opening up with Sir Pentious, then episode four dived further into the concept of the walls and fake personas people put up to hide from their pain and trauma with Angel Dust and Husk. With those two opening up and starting to let their walls down to each other, and by extension we the audience, I think it makes Charlie’s own façade all the more noticeable. It’ll be pretty interesting if Charlie actually winds up being the toughest nut to crack when it comes to opening up about their real issues and baggage. Yet another interesting trait she shares with Blitzo.
All in all, I’m really liking what the show has been doing with Charlie as a protagonist. And I’m REALLY interested to see where the story is going to take her.
Particularly what’s going to happen when she reaches a breaking point…
809 notes · View notes
Note
K follow me Astarion just sees tav like loving on children wherever they go and hes like?????
And tavs like ive always wanted my own child but i didn't wabt to ask you with every
This sends poor starion into a crisis does he was children how many
I think I have followed you. Let's see!
So for this one we got a lil time jump, ambiguous and vague setting and timelines with game spoilers present. M/F pairing because that is my go to and pregnancy is mentioned. Vampiric pregnancy also so there is some weirdness there (i made it up no idea if it's dnd accurate). Vague Tav backstory of a wonderful mother and going off to become a cleric.
~
Astarion was well used to your antics by this point. You had a severe lack of instincts linked to self-preservation, which led to a consistent pattern of doing, frankly, stupid shit. Stupid, but kind. Nothing that Astarion hadn't adapted to, after nearly two years of being attached at the hip you became pretty attuned to your lover's personality.
He could even go as far as to say that he had grown to love your annoying predilection for pious morality. Perhaps he loved talking you out of certain virtuous dangers more, but still. He appreciated who you were, he adored who you were. But Astarion was no saint, despite his insistence on attaching himself to one.
Which is exactly why he was far from amused when you signed him up to babysit a couple of brats. All for acquittances he barely cared about.
But you at least had the good grace to look guilty, "I didn't mean to! But she looked so tired and she said their anniversary was coming up and it's not like we got anything for their wedding-"
That was a nice try, one that Astarion wasn't falling for, "We didn't know of their existence when they got married darling. Just because I can't remember their names doesn't mean you can trick me."
"I'm not trying to trick you!" You whined, arms crossed as you pouted. It sure felt like a trick, especially when Astarion knew that you were well-aware how easily he fell for your sulking. Adorable little monster that you were, "It's only three kids and a baby for one night, it won't be that bad! You don't even have to help-"
Astarion rolled his eyes as he sat next to you on the bed, "I didn't say I wouldn't help."
That seemed to do the trick to get the pout off of your face. You perked up immediately, looking at him like you couldn't quite believe it, "Really?"
"Yes, really," Astarion sighed as you tugged you closer. Sure he liked to bitch, but he really would do anything for you. Even extremely annoying things like this, "I'm not going to sit back and feed you to the wolves."
"They're not wolves! The oldest is barely five," You laughed as you let him manhandle you, settling you into his lap, "And I am sorry, I really wasn't thinking. I promise it won't happen again."
Astarion doubted that, not when he was well-versed of your weak spot for children. No matter where you went you couldn't help but fawn over them, not to mention the insane lengths you would go to keep any child safe. It was a complete and utter blind spot, your kindness extending to them all, even the little scam artists and hellions.
It was sweet, if not extremely worrying at first. Astarion had been terrified of you finding out his past. The things that he had been forced to do, the innocents whose lives he had destroyed. But not only did you find out, you were forced to see it. Both of you were, and it had been worse than anything Astarion could have imagined. He had always found a slight comfort knowing that those he captured would at least die quickly, that at the very least they wouldn't suffer the same agonizing fate as he, just an agonizing death. But no, even that small comfort had been a lie. The horror of finding them all down there has yet to be matched. He had never felt more self-loathing, more pure disgust than the moment he had found those children, tortured and pale, all because of him.
How you didn't see him for the wretched thing he was after all that, Astarion wasn't sure. But he was grateful. You were too good for him. A fact that he was devastatingly aware of, but that wasn't going to stop him from keeping you.
He still thinks about it on occasion, despite the fact that he had done all he could to right his wrongs. They all at least had a chance now to have a life worth living, Astarion could only hope that it would be used. Their future was out of his hands now, a small comfort.
But despite his complicated feelings towards children, he was more than capable of handling them for one evening. And in all honesty, he truly didn't have to do much. He was on self-mandated baby duty, because of course you had to help out the infant that would scream bloody murder unless it was being held. Keeping her tucked against him was a move of self-preservation, if he ever wanted to retain his hearing.
Most of the night was spent amused as he watched you entertain a gaggle of toddlers. You were so... creative with the ways you could defuse their antics. It came to you so naturally, nearly like you were a born mother yourself. It wasn't exactly surprising that you were fantastic with children, he had seen it time and time again. Arabella, Mol, Yenna, all of which still wrote you letters, visited occasionally. Staying forever attached, even from a distance.
Now that Astarion thought about it, it was odd that you weren't a mother. Odder still that you hadn't never even brought up the possibility of having children together. You were usually so open with your wants and always encouraging the same from him. Just one more thing he loved about you. But... why hadn't it been mentioned? Astarion had always assumed it was because you didn't truly want any of your own, that you enjoyed their fun innocence while avoiding the more laborious responsibility of raising them.
Though watching you take care of them all, changing diapers and negotiating silly arguments with a soft smile of your face had him rethinking his assumption.
"You're good with them," Astarion said eventually after you had successfully set the older three down for the night, the baby still stubbornly clinging to him, "I don't think there's a child we've met that doesn't adore you."
You laughed quietly, walking over to kiss him softly on the cheek. Your eyes wandered to the sleeping infant in his arms, still holding a piece of his shirt in it's little fist, "You don't seem to be too bad with them either."
"Newborns don't know any better," Astarion dismissed as he tried to put her down in their borrowed crib. Tried and failed, considering how the thing immediately started to whine the second he attempted to pry it's little hand away.
Oh for fuck's sake. Astarion wasn't even going to try and argue. Instead he unbuttoned his shirt and let it fall into the crib with her, seemingly doing the trick of stopping her from waking completely.
When he turned back you were staring at him with soft eyes, looking lovestruck at the simple act of him laying a child down, "Looks like she has pretty good taste to me."
"I don't think your judgment should be trusted," Astarion huffed as he walked over to you, grabbing your hand to drag you to the bedroom. He glanced back at you, his heart nearly skipping a beat from the sweet way you kept looking at him. It had his mind wandering again, those questions still nagging him.
Questions that he didn't have the courage to ask until dead of night, when he had you half asleep against his bare chest, "Have you ever thought of having children?"
He hadn't meant to blurt that out in the middle of the night, but Astarion apparently had a knack for starting important conversations at inconvenient times. Not that you minded.
You just cuddled into him closer, nodding against him with a sigh, "I've always wanted my own children. My own mother, Gods bless her soul, made it all sound so magical. Pregnancy, the early years, puberty, all of it. She loved it all. And I guess it rubbed off on me. It used to be all I could think about, before real life got in the way."
Astarion listened, a little annoyed at himself for not putting the pieces together sooner. You had talked so lovingly about your late parents, how you always wanted to be like your mother. Of course you would want children. How had he not connected the dots?
"But then I went off to the temple," You continued, "I completed my training, went off into the world to do good, blah, blah, blah. You know the story."
"So you grew out of the idea?" Astarion asked.
"Not exactly," You admitted, sounding a little guilty, "But I would never ask that of you love, it's not something you have to worry about."
That-what?
Astarion stared down at you, brow furrowed, "What do you mean?"
"I mean I know that the topic of children is... difficult for you. Considering everything you've been through-"
"I think you mean to say everything I've inflicted on others," Astarion interrupted, unwilling to allow himself grace. Especially when it came to the children of the Gur, "It was much worse for them than me."
You nodded, knowing better than to try and fight him on that particular topic, "I understand, but my point is that I can live without them. You're all I need."
It was comforting to hear, an immediate balm to a brand new set of insecurities that Astarion hadn't been prepared for. But even so... he hated the idea of you sacrificing even more for him. It felt wrong, "But-"
"But nothing," You interrupted softly, setting a quick kiss to his mouth, I'm serious Astarion, you don't need to worry. I'm happy, I love you, and everything is fine."
"I love you too," Astarion murmured, at a loss to say anything else. But the conversation didn't end there.
Astarion couldn't stop thinking about it, even long after the temporary children were sent back home. ou seemed so... sure that he didn't want children, and a week ago he probably would have agreed. But that was back before he knew that he was actively keeping you away from something you wanted. Something you had dreamed about since you were a child. And it felt wrong to be the reason for that, so, so wrong.
He didn't even know if his true feelings on the matter were real. He didn't want children for many of the same reasons he never wanted a partner. The attachment to another was dangerous, he was beyond unequipped to deal with others, let alone care for them, and the entire ideology behind love was ripe for manipulation and heart break. But then he met you and everything changed. Suddenly, caring for another didn't feel like a weakness, it felt like the strongest aspect of his entire self. Taking care of you wasn't an unwanted duty, it was intimacy. Something that he now craved. If all of those steadfast ideals could fall apart simply through meeting you, whose to say he could even trust himself when it came the thoughts around having a child?
Would having one truly be so bad? A little piece of the two of you, alive in the world? And perhaps children were annoying but... Astarion would be lying if he said he didn't have a soft spot for them. He had kept his distance before, but now he was fully confident that he wasn't a danger, no with Cazador burned to nothing bus ash and his own bloodlust well controlled. And it's not as if he was incapable of being a father, worse men than him did it everyday.
It was a confusing place to be, this tightwire of indecisiveness. Confusing enough for him to start a bit of research. He was vaguely aware that it was possible for his kind to breed, but finding out the details was disheartening, to say the least. First he had to parse out the different horror stories of babes eating their way out of their mother's wombs with actual facts, which wasn't exactly pleasant. But the truth was that it was more than possible for the two of you to have child together. It had the potential to either be as noneventful as any pregnancy, with the cavate that the babe coming out looking slightly... dead wouldn't be a permanent state of being. Or it could be as risky as carrying a child could be, with pains and complications galore, even legitimate worries of internal bleeding from the wretched thing prematurely growing claws. Not to mention the occasional, intense blood lust that could occur, an experience that Astarion would prefer you didn't have to go to.
Looking into the reality of the choice didn't help as much as he had assumed it would. If anything it just made the whole situation more real. Even if he wasn't a vampiric spawn, childbirth was risky. Maybe not as risky for you considering how Astarion would move the heavens and hells to get you the best care possible, but still. The thought of you passing, leaving him alone with the child you wanted and would never see, would destroy him. Completely and utterly.
But then again... there was the magical alternative of everything working out just fine. The two of you were both beyond lucky in that regard, considering how you'd overcome mind flayer parasites and fought and won against a near god. It was more than possible that everything would be fine, that you would have a beautiful pregnancy that would end in an even more amazing child. Then two would become three, a family of his very own.
That... didn't sound too bad. Astarion was torn. On one hand, he was almost certain that he was willing to go through with it. Not just because he loved you and wanted you to be happy, though it was the main reason. But also because... he could be a part in making something good. A child that would never suffer the way he did, the way countless others had. One who would be loved, who would have the help they needed for their inevitable unholy hungers. Someone precious for the two of you to fret over, to adore and care for. He... wanted that. Or at least he would if you still did. Now if he could just figure out how to bring it up, maybe something could actually happen.
But luckily enough for him, you did the job for him. He had been pouring over another book dedicated to recording the births of Dhampirs in the area, only to be distracted by you loudly sighing behind him.
"What's wrong love?" Astarion asked, his eyes still scanning the page in front of him.
"Oh I don't know," You sighed, rounding the corner to sit on the edge of his desk, "I just can't help but wonder when you're going to explain why you've suddenly become obsessed with parenting books. And..."
You trailed off, ignoring his surprised expression to read the cover of what was in front of him, "'Vampiric and Mortal Love & The Spawn They Create'. It's not exactly your usual reading material."
Part of Astarion wanted to be surprised that you had already figured him out. He had at least been trying to hide things from you slightly, not that it mattered when you could read him like a book. And he supposed that blatantly reading things like this in front of you would eventually have an effect, even if he tried to obscure the titles.
But that didn't stop him from stuttering through a response, "Well-I, okay. I've just been thinking about options lately. Which you can't really do if you don't understand what they are. Hence the books."
You frowned at him, one leg crossed over the other, "Star, I already told you that you don't need to worry-"
"But I want to worry," Astarion interrupted, deciding that ripping the band-aid off would be the best course of action, "And if there is something I can be doing to make you happier than I should at least consider it."
"I'm not going to force you into this for that," You said softly, reaching out to twine his fingers against yours, "This isn't the kind of thing you do just for someone else."
Astarion was aware of that, there was an important truth to your words. But... "What if it wasn't just for you?"
You paused, your brow furrowed as you stared at him, "What do you mean?"
"I mean what if, and consider this purely hypothetical, what if I wanted one as well. What then?" It was as far from hypothetical as Astarion could get, but by the look on your face it didn't seemed like that needed to be clarified.
You swallowed, looking just shy of hopeful as you played with his hand, "I... well. I guess in that case we would have a lot to talk about."
That wasn't quite the answer he was looking for. He pressed on, "So if in theory, I did want one. Would... you still be interested in having one?"
With me?
He left that part unsaid as he waited for an answer, uncharacteristically nervous as you mulled it over. But you were smiling, bright and wide, giving his hand a little squeeze as you spoke, "I think that would be the only scenario where I would want it. If that's something you wanted."
"I think it is," Astarion answered honestly, done with being coy, "I don't know how, I... I'm not quite sure how I feel about you carrying something that could be dangerous. But... in general yes. I think I want this. I do want this. With you and only you. Whenever your ready."
The next part Astarion did see coming, his arms already open by the time you launched yourself at him. You straddled his lap, kissing every part of his face as you babbled, "We can wait! It doesn't need to be now but-I just-yes! Adoption, childbirth, I don't care. All I need is to have them with you. That's all I want."
"And that I can give," Astarion laughed, delighted at your reaction. He still had concerns, plenty of them in fact, but they were hard to consider when the woman he adored was so ecstatic.
He gripped your chin, chuckling at the whine you let out for him interrupting your onslaught of affection. You didn't have to wait long, not when he directed your mouth against his, kissing you deeply as a new wave of exciting, and slightly nauseating feelings worked through him.
He didn't know exactly what was going to happen in the future. He had no idea if he would be a good father, but he knew that he would try his damndest. He didn't know how the two of you would even procure a child, but he did no one thing.
With you by his side, it would work out. All of it, no matter how hard the road turned out to be. And that was all that mattered.
946 notes · View notes
sphireath-wisp · 20 days
Text
#Picture Perfect
Tumblr media
Sypnosis: Where do they keep pictures/polaroids of you (and them)?
Warnings: Not proofread, reader admits that there were times they felt insecure at Levi's, morally grey reader(?), Mammon's section kind of derails from main topic, posessive/jealous Levi, possible mischaracterization because I haven't played in a long time
Featuring: Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan, Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, Belphegor x GN! reader
Tumblr media
LUCIFER... who keeps pictures of you safe in his wallet. Honestly... it's not the most flattering picture of you, but he likes it a fair bit. It reminds him of the times when he used to think of you as just "the human exchange student" and not "(Name), our family."
The picture - taken by the RAD newspaper club - shows you being introduced to the whole school as the new exchange student. You look completely unamused. If his memory serves him correctly, you had no sleep last night since Mammon was unaware of the human cardiac cycle and how you needed sleep everyday. Your hands were clasped in front of you and you were sort of glaring at him from where you were standing.
He was confidently giving his speech, face neutral and completely unaware of the eyes burning holes into his back. In fact, it only garnered more attention because you had the guts to glare at the third most powerful demon in all of Devildom in such a way. It probably slipped your mind then that he had the power to snap your neck in half.
He kept it in his wallet as a reminder to warn you about controlling yourself. It'd be especially bad for his image if the human he was taking care of had the nerve to glare at Diavolo like that. Though, he never really found the time. It slipped his mind all the time simply because you never glared at any of his brothers in that way as more and more time passed.
You were unreasonably kind, he realised.
Occasionally, Mammon will attempt to steal his wallet and gets the shock of his life when he sees a photo of you by his debit card. You look absolutely horrible and... man! Mammon won't be letting Lucifer off the hook anytime soon - or rather, it's the other way around now that Lucifer has Mammon strung upside down by Cerberus as a personal piñata.
Tumblr media
MAMMON... the mastermind, and you, his partner-in-crime. News spreads like wildfire in devildom. With the amount of havoc that he imprints with his every step, it's natural that cameramen have a tendency to tail him when things get dry or mundane.
Poor you. You're always caught his trouble and plastered as his accomplice to the point where you've gained quite the notorious name around Devildom.
In the past when Mammon went missing, Lucifer found that there was a much more effective way to find the Avatar of Greed without lifting a finger. Rather than putting up missing posters, bounties were placed on Mammon's head - it ranged from $100,000 grimm to millions depending on Lucifer's mood. If someone did ever find the demon, they would receive the allocated amount of course. However, Mammon rivals no one at speed, the only person who would have him on a leash would be Lucifer.
Since you're always stringed along with Mammon during his schemes, Asmodeus jokingly decided to submit a stunning photo of you to RAD's newspaper club with a bounty of infinity. It went completely viral! You can't imagine how shocked everyone was to see a human's bounty in Devildom, wanted (alive) in all of the three realms and the top "criminal" in hell.
As an inside joke between the brothers, anyone who brings you back to the HOL requires at least 20,000 grimm or some form of payment if another brother wants to hang out with you (Beel gets paid the most, Levi is the top-payer). You were certainly surprised when Satan snatched you away when Mammon's back was turned to you. He returned you back to HOL, amused when Asmo actually gave Satan some spare Grimm. Asmo would insist on painting your nails, plopping you down on his bed as Satan decides that he also needed some personal time with you as an extra reward for bringing you back.
Now, Mammon has your bounty in his room as a reminder that he has the most precious treasure in the three realms with him, the person whose worth exceeds any countable number, you.
Tumblr media
LEVIATHAN... who can be camera-shy sometimes and totally gets it if you feel the same way. Sometimes, he just doesn't feel that sure of himself and he realises you more in common with him than he expected when you admit that you'll occasionally feel that way too.
Most of the pictures he has of you two are faceless except for the really special occasions and he doesn't actually own physical copies of the pictures like his brothers. He keeps them safe in an folder on his gaming computer and he references them whenever he wants to add a custom character (you) into a new game.
Sure, it may seem a little creepy to have a collection of photos of someone else on your computer, yes I can see how that can play out. However, Levi really doesn't mean harm. Most of his pictures there are actually in-game moments with you.
Finally beat a really difficult boss together? Finished a game in record timing? Screenshotting that! That's gonna be stored in the folder for memory's sake. In reality, he has way more videos than photos of you and him together than anything. You once recorded how long he can yap about his recent hyper fixation and, safe to say, you completely underestimated him.
He has videos of both of your live reactions to a new anime opening song, definitely treats it like a stream and pretends that he's talking to an audience with you.
Levi does stream quite often and you usually get featured as his special guest, but you have to understand that you're working with the Avatar of Envy, sweetheart. He definitely found it a little upsetting when you saw Beel type in chat that he's saving extra food for you in the fridge. You rushed down immediately and when you left, he ended the stream without hesitation.
He's keeping his photos and videos of you to himself from now on. No more streaming with you.
Tumblr media
SATAN... prefers miscellaneous photos of you. Caught off-guard, mouth agape and lips curled into a smile he's so used to cherishing that it's become second nature. It highlights your imperfections, yes, but he only grows more fond of it if it's you.
Ironically, it seems more humane to see you in that way - cupcake batter all over your face as you bake, a maple leaf stuck in your hair as autumn arrives in Devildom. It reminds him that, "hey, I'm still your human no matter how perfect I seem." It reassures him that you're still the human that tripped over his books on multiple occasions, never learning your lesson.
You seemed unreachable to him in the way that he feels like he doesn't really deserve you. A romantic, heartfelt kiss or soft whispers of comfort by the shell of his ear would ease the doubt in his heart. However, Satan has learned that looking at these genuine, authentic photos of you is quite effective as well.
Unfiltered, raw, even the borderline unsightly and vulgar version of you, it's nice in its own unique way. That's the way Satan was created - unsightly, bloody, horrid. Of course, it doesn't mean he sees you in a negative light, but seeing your imperfect sides... makes you feel a little less far from him somehow.
Past all of the charming smiles and gentlemanly demeanour is someone who isn't as perfect as he'd like to seem. You'd be able to understand him with all the impurities plaguing him, right? You'd still hug him and let his claws dig into the skin of your back? You'd forgive him?
"So what?" and with two words, he was completely appalled by the simplicity of your answer. In any case, your bluntness could be interpreted as rudeness. He'd be fuming at how lightly you're treating his issues. But, that's just how little you care about flaws.
Satan laughs. A weight lifts off his shoulders and he feels... relieved. Visit him tonight, won't you? He can finally admit to someone how hard it's been to master his wrath all alone.
Tumblr media
ASMODEUS... who dedicates his own Devilgram as not only a memory of his best moments but also your best moments. And, oh my, did his fans love you.
When he first featured you, he actually received a little hate (he couldn't give two fucks) due to how controversial of a topic you were at first. Funnily enough, the puny human he calls family today gained him a lot of traction of Devilgram, especially after you became a hot topic once you formed your first pact with Mammon.
From behind the scenes, he'd keep his followers updated on you and the hot water you'd find yourself in, eating his popcorn with a grin and posting. The more he posted about you, the more his fans started appreciating how brave you actually were for a human.
You had a Devilgram of your own, but you rarely posted there since your first few months in Devildom were spent wisely on adjusting to the HOL. Your (unknown) admirers were getting their daily scraps of you through Asmo.
Asmo would realise sooner or later that having both you and him in a picture is the formula for a guaranteed successful post. The Avatar of Lust and a human (demons are literally TEMPTED to have their soul; it's described as a JEWEL) in one photo?! Oh shit, blow the whole roof off because it was a massive hit. (Trendsetter MC and Asmo!??!)
As for Asmo, he loves that his darling is also receiving the love and attention they deserve. In fact, he wholeheartedly supports you with every fibre of his being. He's your biggest fan and you're his.
Plus, his Devilgram is the perfect outlet to shock his brothers. He once posted a picture of himself by your side on his bed. He grins at the camera, showing off his smeared lipstick as your face is dotted with kiss marks.
Disappointingly, it got reported and taken down in an hour or so. (That doesn't mean he doesn't have the photo)
Tumblr media
BEELZEBUB... sticks that family picture on the fridge with a magnet. Yeah, he could totally hang it at the entrance by the stairs. Sure, he could frame it up. Yet, it's more homey having it somewhere he always visits and looks at.
Additionally, when Beel's hunger gets the best of him, the picture on the fridge forces him to remember if he has any delegated tasks today. "Oh yeah, Satan wanted some help picking up books from the library today, something about a book sale." "Belphie told me his pillow had a hole in it; I better get him a new one after visiting Hell's Kitchen."
At times when the whole family isn't home, having the picture also serves as a mental checklist! "Oh yeah, MC hasn't eaten dinner yet. Better get them something." "Lucifer wanted another cup of black coffee I think, I'll get him a snack just in case." Making sure everyone is eating well is really important to him because of his own appetite. He hates how empty it feels being hungry, why would he ever put any of his family members through that kind of torture?
Furthermore, he feels a little guilty for always eating so much. Ensuring that everyone has eaten is a role that he's assigned for himself.
It's something the whole family values, but it's especially special for Beel. When he goes on a hunger rampage and tears the kitchen up from wall to wall, if there's any damage done to the photo... you can expect a lot of apologies. (Lucifer has to schedule another time for a family photo to cheer him up asap)
He still has an old photo of the whole family without you actually - it leaves a bittersweet feeling to throw out any kind of precious photo. Yet, the more he looks at it, the more it feels incomplete without you in the picture.
Huh, you know what? He'll search for you right now to grab something from Hell's Kitchen. Nothing much, he just wants to check up on you and get his 80 plates of cheeseburgers.
Tumblr media
BELPHEGOR... who has a silver locket of you, him, and Beel on him at all times. It's convenient, lightweight, portable, and silver looks good on him according to Asmo.
Whenever he feels like he misses you or Beel (or both), opening up the locket solves 50% of his problems. However, it's not like he can hug the locket to sleep and bury his face into its shoulder. It's not as if the locket can carry him when his legs feel sore. All he can really do is hold it to his heart and shoot you/Beel a text.
Still, he does feel a little more relieved to see the photo. Whenever that rotting feeling of loneliness gets to him, one look at his locket reminds him that, "Hey, I still have them." It does ease his doubts, but we both know he'd never admit that openly.
Pressing the cold silver against his lips also became a habit he developed soon after getting the locket. Belphie... has chapped lips since he's always asleep and never drinking water. The cold feeling kind of distracts him from that uncomfortable feeling - it's much less effort than going all the way downstairs, grabbing a glass from the pantry, pouring water from a jug into it.... you know the drill.
Both you and Beel have one as well, but you don't wear it as often since Asmo loves to accessorize you with all sorts of new jewellery to try on. Beel wears it yeah, but it's usually off when he's eating - which is most of the time - since oil and grease are super obvious on silver stuff and it pains him to get something so precious dirty.
The other brothers are actually grateful he has the locket despite the initial jealousy. Belphie has his fair share of tantrums and everyone knows how younger, spoiled siblings can be when something pisses them off. The brothers have to try and baby him, which only ticks him off further. One peek at the locket when you or Beel aren't around and suddenly, it's like he's a new person - back to normal in a flash.
It saved Mammon's face a good punch when he accidently stepped on Belphie's foot at the planeterium while he was sleeping.
Tumblr media
Taglist: Empty :(
Tumblr media
271 notes · View notes
abyssruler · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
like bread and pastries (you make me feel soft)
scaramouche x gn!reader
prince kunikuzushi can be described as mean at best, and a tyrant at worst. it comes as no surprise when years pass after his coming of age and he still hasn’t received any marriage proposals or even had a single lover. not that he would desire any of those small minded plebeians unworthy of his hand, but you, he decides, you might just be alright in his books. or — a prince and his baker.
fluff, soft scara (kinda), prince!scara, baker!reader, royalty au, bc i love the trope where the cruel and intimidating person is soft for one person and one person only
Tumblr media
Prince Kunikuzushi’s love life—rather, his lack of one—has always been a topic of contention between the nobles of Inazuma. Some wonder if he will ever truly marry, what with his less-than-affable personality (which was, in high society terms, a sugarcoated way of saying he was an asshole). Others speculate that his mother might try to intervene and set him up with someone of reputable background.
What they don’t know—and if anyone ever found out, he would personally silence them to keep his secret safe—is that he is seeing someone. Just not someone they’d particularly find worthy or even interesting, but Kunikuzushi would beg to differ.
“Didn’t I tell you that you’re not allowed to eat the cookies until they’re at least cool enough?”
No one, not even his own mother or younger sister, would have the audacity to speak that way to him, let alone look him in the eye unflinchingly with a threatening spatula held in the air.
You’re covered in flour, from your hair to your clothes to the smear on your cheek that has his fingers itching to wipe it off. Your back is held straight, chin up and utterly unafraid to meet his stare head on as if he isn’t the heir to the shogunate and will one day rule the very country you reside in, as if his reputation for being all too happy to order someone’s tongue cut off for any insult, imagined or not, doesn’t even register in your head.
And if it’s you, well, then you have a perfectly good reason why.
Kunikuzushi drops the cookie he’d been in the middle of taking a bite out of into the tray, letting his displeasure known by crossing his arms and turning away from your chiding stare with a frown that could almost be called petulant.
“I pay you to make cookies for me, you know,” he grumbles, but you respond by huffing in amusement.
“Your mother pays her retainers, who then pay the right people, who then pay me to bake in the kitchens for the royal family and their guests.”
He raises his brow. “Practically the same thing.”
You pinch his arm for his sass, and any other person would have been met with a backhand across the face and an immediate order to be whipped fifty times in the public city square, would have had their hand cut off for even daring to touch, let alone harm, the Crown Prince of Inazuma, but you—
You make him so disgustingly soft. Like butter left to melt in the sun, and really, that’s what you are: a sun. Dazzling and blinding and so very unattainable.
“The point is, my prince, you can afford to have a little patience every now and then,” you tell him, lowering your spatula and placing it on the table.
“I’m a very patient person.” He smiles, the kind he knows unsettles you because, and he quotes, it gives you the heeby-jeebies to see something so fake and uncharacteristically sweet on his face.
“I doubt that,” you respond, poking the cookie with a finger to check if it’s cooled enough already. With a grin, you pick one up and bring it to his mouth. “Say aah.”
He looks at you blankly. “Not even a minute ago and you were scolding me for trying to eat one.”
“I’m a changed person.” You send him a cheeky smile, gesturing to the cookie still outstretched in front of his awaiting lips. “So?”
Kunikuzushi rolls his eyes. If anyone had dared to do something so childish, something so debasing and humiliating in front of him, coercing him to do something he would have never done in his life even under sword point, he would have had their heads cut off and fed to the monsters that lurk outside the city.
But since it’s you…
Fine.
He opens his mouth, face warm at the embarrassing display, and says, “Aah.”
You laugh in delight, bringing the cookie to his lips. The taste of dough and something that faintly reminds him of vanilla bursts in his tongue. It’s soft and chewy, like bread and melted chocolate. He isn’t one for overly cloying sweets, especially not the ones his mother so favors, but the ones you make are always somehow just right for him.
Leaning close, you eye him with anticipation. “How is it?”
He chews for a few moments, gathering his thoughts before he ultimately decides that he’s been far too lax in reminding you of who he is and his reputation. “It’s passable.”
…Is he really so far gone that that is the best insult he could think of on the spot?
He could name a few adjectives that he’s prone to use on the daily. Disgusting, revolting, terrible, abhorrent, nauseating, repugnant—to name a few. But, somehow, his mouth refused to form the words, so he was left to say passable instead.
“If it’s passable, then I guess it’s not enough for your refined palate,” you feign distress, turning to the tray of cookies and making a move to grab them. “I suppose I’ll have to throw these away…”
For the second time that day, he does something he considers beneath him and rolls his eyes. “Stop the dramatics. The cookie was…” the muscles on his mouth hurt with the effort to say something not unkind, “…good.”
You beam, all crinkled eyes and lovely upturned lips. It makes his heart palpitate, probably because of how adorable abhorrent he finds the sight. “Hehe, I knew you’d like it.”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” he tells you, lest you suddenly think he actually likes you, never mind the fact that he was the one who hounded your attention and made the first move to kiss you all those months ago.
“Whatever you say,” you sing-song, leaning on the counter beside him and getting flour on his immaculate robes when your arm brushes up against his. “But I was wondering why you came to visit me today. You told me yesterday that you had pressing matters to attend to.”
Ah, right. The reason for his sudden appearance in Tenshukaku’s kitchens. The conversation with his mother yesterday repeats in his head.
“My mother wants me to find someone to marry as soon as possible.” Kunikuzushi looks at you, eyes wide and expectant.
Your eyes suddenly dim, looking down at your feet in an uncharacteristic show of hesitance. “Oh. Then… I wish you and whoever you choose as your spouse the best of wishes.”
A muscle in his brows twitch. He can’t believe you didn’t get the hint. Are you truly going to make him say it?
Something distinctly uncomfortable tugs at his chest when he sees you fiddling with your fingers.
Tch. Fine.
“It’s you,” idiot, he wants to add, but his tongue seems to have a mind of its own. “I came here to tell you that you’re going to marry me.”
Your head snaps up, face a mixture of shock and hesitant hope. But then you grimace, “But you’re the prince, and I’m…”
He scoffs. “So? Once we’re married, any insult directed toward you is an insult to me as well. I’ll have them killed—if you want.” The last part is added only because he saw you go pale at the mention of killing people.
“Right, but…” you trail off, tilting your head to him and narrowing your eyes. There it is, that audacious spark that captured his attention from the beginning. “You’re supposed to ask me to marry you, not order me around.”
His face pinches.
“Well, my prince? Are you gonna ask me or not?” you tease.
The sheer nerve at your audacious request. If you were one of the mindless nobles that scurry about his mother’s court, he would have you whipped. Insolent, impertinent, brazen, and a mischievous smile that has him so utterly—
Whipped.
He clicks his tongue, crossing his arms and feeling his cheeks redden. His eyes meet yours unflinchingly despite the erratic beating of his heart.
“Will you marry me?”
One month and many arguments and severed tongues later, the Crown Prince Kunikuzushi is wed to you.
And if Yae Miko uses that opportunity to write a light novel fanfiction about the prince and his baker, well, she responds to Kunikuzushi’s angry letter with a signed copy of the book’s first edition and a note about how much the people loved it and how his reputation has skyrocketed because of it.
Tumblr media
3K notes · View notes
munsonslove · 2 years
Note
Hi! I love you writing and I was wondering if you could write a fic we’re Eddie and the reader kinda have like a frenemies vibe going on and then one day they sleep together but Eddie has no idea the reader is a virgin because of people saying stories about her and then they sleep together and he finds out after they did it??
Can I Kiss You?
(18+ only)
a/n: thanks so much for the request, & thank you everyone for 1k followers!!! i’m so happy people are liking my little stories <3 a few notes: reader is dustin’s older sister in this fic, but i make it a point to say that she was adopted, so you can def read this as not white reader still. i also briefly mention the reader’s birth parents passing away when she was very young, so tw for family death. and there’s a part where it’s said that the reader’s last name isn’t henderson (because she kept her original surname after being adopted) so if anyone’s reading this and your irl last name is henderson… just like pretend it’s not for a sec? oh also i hid a taylor swift lyric in here. first person to find it wins! anyways i hope y’all like it!!
summary: Your little brother's annoying DM is always hanging around and trying to bother you. Embarrassingly, you developed a crush on him, you were just too proud to do anything about it.
wordcount: 7.3k
tags/warnings: fem!virgin!reader (18+ and a high school graduate), also adopted!henderson!reader, slight mention of family death, fluff, smut, friends/frenemies to lovers, praise kink, fingering (f receiving), descriptions of masturbation (both f and m receiving), use of pet names (baby, princess), unprotected p in v penetration (she’s on the pill, use condoms irl of course), no use of y/n
Tumblr media
“He’s not here,” you deadpan with a roll of your eyes as you open the front door. You weren’t expecting any visitors, so when you heard knocking you were quick to find a makeshift weapon before seeing who it was. Your paranoia diminished when you saw it was merely your little brother's DM.
“I’d be tempted to say ‘how do you know I’m not here to see you?’, but that lamp in your hands has me second guessing myself,” Eddie replies with a laugh, pushing past you to enter your home without permission. “You gonna attack me, princess? Didn’t know you found me that annoying.”
“I’m a young woman home alone, and a lot of really strange things happen in this town,” you explain, setting the lamp back down on the end table. “Sue me for being defensive.”
He shakes off his backpack and tosses on the floor. “Better safe than sorry I guess,” he agrees, though you can hear his amused smirk in his tone. “Why you home alone? Your mom got a hot date or something?”
“Book club,” you correct him while crossing your arms, “And Dustin’s sleeping over at the Wheeler’s.”
Eddie hums in response, licking his lips as he looks you up and down. “Cute pajamas,” he says, winking at you.
At his comment, you realize with a start that your robe had fallen open, and crossing your arms only accentuated the suggestive low cut of your silk nightie. Quickly scrambling to cover yourself and retie the knot, you frustratedly grumble, “What are you even doing here? Dustin didn’t say anything about you coming over.”
He flops down on the couch, kicking his feet up on the coffee table and settling into the well-worn cushions, making himself at home. “He talked me into letting him DM for a campaign, so I thought I’d stop by with my copy of the Dungeon Master’s Guide. He was bitching about only having the Player’s Handbook and Monster Manual, so…” he trails off with a shrug as he leans forward to snatch the remote to the TV from next to his boot.
“Get your dirty shoes off of my mother’s clean furniture,” you scold before physically grabbing his ankles and forcing his feet to the floor. “Can you at least pretend to have manners?”
“I could try, but then you wouldn’t have a crush on me anymore,” he laughs, then hooks one of his fingers into the belt of your robe, pulling you down to be seated next to him. He rests his arm on the back of the couch behind your shoulders, not reacting when you retort with a curt ‘In your dreams.’
You know that logistically you could make him leave- this was your home, after all- but the possibility of him actually going without protest was very low. It seemed like Eddie’s favorite thing in the world was annoying you, and sometimes you find yourself missing the days back when he barely acknowledged your existence. He was originally two years ahead of you in school, but due to him being held back twice he ended up being a part of your graduating class. You didn’t run in the same crowd, in fact you couldn’t have been further out of each other’s social spheres. You were quite popular, invited to many parties, even won prom queen your senior year. Eddie, on the other hand, only showed up at parties to sell drugs, and didn’t attend prom for any of his senior years. 
When your little brother entered high school, you worried about him being bullied. You were aware that most of the school’s population were under the impression that Dungeon and Dragons was a devil worshiping cult, and the Hellfire club along with it. Having been exposed to the game for so long thanks to Dustin’s nerdy interests, you knew better than what the propaganda surrounding D&D tried to peddle to the public, but you held concerns that your status-obsessed ‘friends’ wouldn’t be so easily convinced otherwise. Popularity was never something you sought out, it just came naturally to you, and while it was nice always having weekend plans there was no way in hell you were going to let anyone give your baby brother and his friends any shit. If sticking up for your family made the ‘cool kids’ at school not want to have you in their clique, then that was fine by you. To your surprise, everyone seemed to get the message loud and clear that Dustin and his band of misfits were off limits bullying-wise, and you were able to stay relatively well liked by your peers.
The first time you stood up for Dustin, it was a few weeks into his freshman year in the hallway before first period. One of the guys from the basketball team was giving him a hard time, and you marched right up to the meathead jock and shoved him away. You made sure to get your point across that if you ever saw him fucking with your brother again that you weren’t afraid to fight back. The opposing boy cowered away, not expecting one of the most popular girls at Hawkins to so adamantly defend who he considered a ‘nerd’. Word traveled fast, and by lunchtime the hottest gossip was how you sucker-punched Damian Smith square in the jaw outside of Mrs. Hackett’s classroom this morning. It wasn’t true by a long shot, but you found it rather amusing how much the story got twisted when there were so many witnesses. That day was also the first time you spoke to Eddie.
He had cornered you in the cafeteria, and was attempting to use his ‘bad boy, outcast’ demeanor to intimidate you into leaving Dustin alone. Some of the cheerleaders got the attention of their boyfriends, and pretty soon a group had gathered to see why someone at the bottom of the food chain was messing with you. You called them off with a wave of your hand, then took Eddie’s arm to drag him out into the hall and figure out what the hell he was talking about. He clearly had the wrong idea, because he was telling you off about ‘pretending to stand up for the nerdy freshmen’ and how he ‘knew this was part of some elaborate prank’.
He had no idea you were Dustin’s sister. It made sense, you didn’t look all that similar and you didn’t even share a last name. Your biological parents were family friends of the Hendersons, and they died when you were fairly young. You were legally adopted by your godmother, and were raised as a member of the family. Most everyone who you’ve told has tried to console you after learning the truth, and while it is sad that you didn’t get to grow up with your birth mother and father, you know you were lucky to be a Henderson (by love, not by name). Family is family, even if there’s no blood relation, and that’s exactly what you told Eddie. You let him know that he could accuse you of being one of those airheads whose main concern is how many pages of the yearbook they make it on, but that wasn’t going to stop you from beating the shit out of anyone who tried to give your brother a hard time.
With Eddie becoming a close friend of Dustin’s, even somewhat of a role model (much to your dismay), you saw him pretty often. He was always finding excuses to come over, and you suspected it had something to do with his new life mission of bothering you at every waking moment. The two of you didn’t hate each other per se, on the contrary you actually always secretly enjoyed spending time with the metalhead, despite your differences. That being said, your rapport consisted mainly of jestful bantering, constantly trying to have the one-up in the exchange. You both finished high school together, he actually gave you a ride to graduation (not without a snide comment on the length of your dress, prompting a middle finger from you). Now you were taking a gap year before college and he was staying in Hawkins to focus on his music, the plan being to move to Indianapolis when the final member of Corroded Coffin graduated. With the freedom awarded by not attending Hawkins anymore- from both the stressful preparation for another four years of school and the pressure to stick to the status quo- you found yourself spending a lot of downtime with Eddie. You’re not quite sure either of you would readily call the other a friend, but maybe relationship labels were overrated. All you knew was that if Dustin was hitching a ride home, you could count on Eddie’s van being parked in the driveway for at least a couple hours while he berated you inside.
Lately though, the playful bickering between you two morphed into what almost felt like flirting. Eddie seemed to be laying it on thicker and thicker each time he came to see you, as if he was testing the waters for how much he could get away with without you getting upset. What he didn’t know, however, was that you’ve been harboring a secret crush on him for a while now. After actually getting to know him through the excuse of you both caring about Dustin, you came to the realization that he’s not all bad like his reputation.
Eddie switches on the TV, turning it to your favorite channel without asking and setting the remote back down on the table. It’s the little gestures like these that have you falling harder for him everyday. You lose your train of thought getting lost in fantasies of doing exactly this with him, only while being able to call him your boyfriend. You’re ripped back to reality when his arm shifts from the back of the couch to actually over your shoulders. His face doesn’t show any sign that he thinks of this as overly intimate, so you try to not let any reaction show.
Some hours pass this way, and you wonder how long Eddie plans to stay for. You silently pray that your neighbors won’t say anything to your mom about his van parked in the driveway, but even if they do, the tingling you felt in your chest was well worth it- and besides, no matter what she said, you were an adult. Just as you're thinking this, Eddie stands to pick his bag up off of the floor, slipping the books he brought out onto the coffee table, before zipping it back up and holding it awkwardly in his hands.
“I guess I should probably get going,” he says with a shrug, “It’s getting late, and your mom will be home soon.”
“She said they were going to drink wine,” you respond. “You know Claudia, she wouldn’t drive after having even a sip. She’s going to sleep on her friend’s couch.”
“Oh,” he says, his eyes lighting up a little before he purses his lips and looks out the window. “Well, it’s pretty dark out now. I don’t wanna keep you up…”
There’s a brief pocket of silence, neither of you wanting to be the one to suggest what you’re thinking for fear of the other not returning the same feeling. You don’t want your disappointment at the idea of him not staying to be too evident, but you’re not sure how convincing you’re being. Your gaze drops down to his pretty lips, distracted by how he’s biting them, and wishing you could bite them instead. Faintly, so faintly you’re almost unsure if you even really heard it, he speaks your name, bringing your attention back to his eyes. You watch as he gathers the courage for his next words. 
“Can I kiss you?”
It’s like time stops. You resist the urge to squeal like a little girl with a crush, but that is exactly how you feel. Slowly, you nod your head before moving your lips to say, ‘Yes,’ though no sound escapes you. He drops the bag, and kicks it out of the way when it lands at his feet before taking long strides toward you. The both of you lean forward, and he tilts his head slightly to make room for your noses. His breath fans your lips as he hesitates to close the distance. Impatient after months of pining, you grab him by the zipper of his jacket and finally do what you’ve been dreaming about for so long. 
His lips are as soft as they look, and you conclude that your theory about his chapstick addiction is correct. With as much as he smokes (medicinal or otherwise), he must moisturize them pretty often. He actually tastes very faintly of tobacco, and you remember how he said he was trying to quit and only smoked cigarettes when he was jittery. You wonder if that meant that you make him as nervous as he makes you. The dirty taste was thankfully mostly covered up by a strong minty flavor, and that only makes you wonder even more, this time about if he also obsesses over little detail when he knows he’s going to see you. Whenever Dustin would inform you Eddie was on his way over, you would find yourself primping in front of the mirror, making sure your hair fell in place just the right way and your skin was clear of any blemishes. You even did this before you fully understood your feelings for the man were romantic. Picturing him having the afterthought to pop a mint before driving over to see you had you smiling against his lips.
“What?” he laughs, pulling away from you slightly and raising an eyebrow with both curiosity and amusement.
“Nothing,’ you reply, giggling softly. “Just thinking.”
“Oh? What about?” he asks, leaning in once again to peck you chastely before simply resting his forehead against your and gazing into your eyes. He walks you backwards, back to the couch and sits, pulling you down next to him.
You shake your head, still smiling. Your mind was racing a mile a minute and it was too much to explain, especially when the only thing you wanted was for him to kiss you silly. “Not now. Just come here,” you whisper as you thread your fingers through his hair and push yourself flush against him, ending up fully sat in his lap with his hands gripping your thighs.
You two last like this for a while, (mostly) innocently kissing, just enjoying the feeling of finally giving into temptation. Pretty soon, Eddie’s touch begins to roam, and your hips begin to rock. It was very quickly crossing the line from PG-13 to R. When you feel his cock harden beneath you, you make up your mind about what you want to happen.
“Eddie,” you moan while his tongue circles a bite mark he left on your neck, soothing the sting. He dismisses the sound, lost in his own world as his hands find purchase on your butt, assisting your movements against him. “Eddie,” you try again, shaking his shoulders slightly.
He immediately slides his hands up to a more modest area on your waist, and he lifts his head away from your neck to look at you. His pupils are blown wide, and his hair is wild. “Yeah, baby?” he says, sounding out of breath.
“Do you want to go to my room?” you ask. You can tell by the way he glances back down at your lips, then to your thighs, and finally back up to your eyes, that he knows exactly what you are implying.
“A- are you sure?” he forces out, barely believing what he’s hearing.
“I’m sure,” you confirm. “I’m ready.”
You’re both hurrying down the hallway, nearly tripping over each other’s feet in your haste. The walk to your bedroom is short, but after putting off the inevitable for so long, you can barely wait and have to resist jumping his bones before reaching your destination. Throwing open the door, he ushers you inside and shuts it behind him.
Eddie’s heavy leather jacket thuds as it hits the floor, his shirt being discarded soon after. Your mouth waters at the sight of his tattoos, but you barely have time to admire his partial nudity. He’s on top of you in a flash, pressing you into the wall and kissing you passionately. His curious hands rake over your body, and their wandering loosen the knot on your robe’s belt, causing the thick fabric to open slightly and expose your collarbone. Like a man starved, Eddie’s lips never lose contact with you as he rips the tie from your body, almost making you fall with the force behind it. He steadies you with his hands back on your waist, this time underneath the robe, and you can feel his touch so much better with only the thin silk of your nightgown between you. Shrugging the robe off, he helps you pull it down your arms before tossing it onto your carpet, and the cold air of your bedroom is fought off by his body warmth invading every inch of you.
“Do you want this as much as I do?” he whispers gravelly after parting his lips from yours.
He doesn’t need to clarify what exactly he wants, because you want it all with him. “I do,” you confirm.
He leads you over to your bed, a queen-sized four-poster, still unmade from this morning. You climb on top and turn to face him while sitting on your knees. He looms over you, standing at the foot of the bed with you kneeling on the mattress in front of him. His pretty eyes darken as he looks down and takes in your form.
“God, I like you like this,” he laughs from above you, “Is this what I gotta do for you to shut your mouth?”
“You like my mouth” you shoot back, sitting up to reach him and tangling your hands in his curls. You make a fist, thus pulling his hair slightly.
He grunts as you tug on his locks, but doesn’t let the innuendo in your last comment go. “You do have a real nice mouth,” he says as he swipes his thumb against your bottom lip. Before he can retract his hand, you open your mouth and suck the digit into it, swirling your tongue around the tip while looking up at him from behind your eyelashes.
“Fuck, baby,” he brokenly breathes out. 
The only thing you see in his eyes is pure unadulterated lust, and you feel your belly grow warmer at the thought of what he was going to do about it. He withdraws his hand only to place it on your neck, his palm on the front of your windpipe. He’s not applying any pressure, so you can’t call it choking, but just the implication of such a touch has arousal pooling in your underwear. His thumb is warm and wet on your throat, and when he trails his hand from your neck to the back of your head, the breeze of air on the leftover saliva makes your skin feel cool. Eddie drops his head and his lips meet yours once again, but only just barely making contact. You try to deepen the kiss, but he’s returned the favor of holding onto a tuft of your hair, making it impossible to press against him more firmly without your hair being pulled. He laughs at your cries of protest, but gives in, sucking on your bottom lip and nipping at it before licking his tongue past the threshold of your mouth.
Kissing like this isn’t the most comfortable, what with the springs of your mattress digging into your knees and your neck craning up to be able to reach Eddie, but you could stay in this position for hours if it meant he was going to keep touching you the way he was. The hand not tangled and tugging at your hair was sliding up your side, dragging the silk of your nightie up. He bunched the fabric up in a fist, which caused it to be lifted enough that your cotton panties were on display. You briefly worry about whether he was going to think the underwear you had on was sexy or not, considering it wasn’t silky or lacy like your nightgown was. It was just a simple and comfortable pair of navy blue panties with a white elastic waistband. 
While you were busy overthinking, Eddie bent at his knees and kissed down your jaw, releasing your hair to raise the fabric on the other side of your nightie up to the same level, then backed away to pull it the rest of the way up over your head and off your body. You felt a little self conscious, bare chested in nothing but a pair of underwear that wasn’t even sexy. Your arms went to fold in front of you, but Eddie dropped the silk and  grabbed your wrists, stopping you.
“Don’t cover yourself,” he whispers, his eyes glued to your body, “You’re so beautiful.”
Blood rushes to your head as you bite back a smile at his compliment. Any anxiety you previously felt about him judging you vanishes, and in its place comes even more need. Eddie tells you to lay down as he softly nudges your shoulder, and you do as he says with no contest. He hooks his fingers underneath the elastic of your panties before waiting for one last head nod from you. When you give the okay and lift your hips, he slowly pulls the fabric off of you, sucking in a breath when your bare pussy finally crosses his line of sight.
He crawls onto the bed and kisses up your torso, starting at your hip bone and making his way all the way up to your clavicle. The hard tent in his jeans rubs against the delicate skin of your inner thigh as he spends extra time marking up your neck, and you get impossibly wetter at the proof of the effect you have on him. When he pulls away, the mattress dips by both sides of your face due to him propping himself up by his arms. His legs bend as he sits up, successfully caging you in, and he takes a moment to just look at you.
“I’m gonna get you ready for me, okay baby?” he says quietly, one of his hands leaving their spot next to your head as he traces his fingertips lightly down the dip in between your breasts, over your belly button, and caresses your dripping slit.
“Yeah, okay,” you mutter out your consent. With your brain as cloudy as it was, you weren’t entirely sure what he was proposing, but you were at a point by now where you would agree to anything.
His middle digit slips easily past the soaked folds around your weeping hole, and he circles the entrance teasingly, collecting your juices before finally breaching, and just his fingertip enters into you. An embarrassing high pitched squeak escapes from your throat, and you raise yourself up onto your elbows to get a better look at what he’s doing to you.
“You wanna watch as I warm you up with my fingers, princess?” he croons at you sweetly. “It’s pretty, ain’t it?”
You take a deep gasp of air as his finger disappears further into you, his hands are bigger and tougher than your own, and the difference is very noticeable. He bends and straightens his wrist over and over, pumping in and out of you with ease, and the foreign feeling is strange yet pleasurable. Another finger slides inside, and he works them into you, opening you up. He’s determined to make the next step after this as satisfying for you as possible.
“You’re so wet and tight, baby. You’re gonna feel so good on my cock,” he practically mewls. There’s a wild look in his eyes, and it only steers you closer to your climax. “You want that, baby? You wanna make me feel good? Make me crave you all the time, even more than I already do?”
His words are slurring together as he rambles on about how perfect he knows your pussy is going to feel around him. For the life of you, you can’t form any response that isn’t loud moaning, but Eddie doesn’t seem to mind one bit. You feel the build up inside of you start, and your entire body tenses involuntarily as you prepare for what you know will be a mind-blowing orgasm.
“Are you gonna cum? My princess is gonna cum?” he asks, and you nod your head to the best of your ability given that the muscles in your neck are locked up. “You’re squeezing my fingers so fucking tight, baby. Show me how pretty you are when you cum. Show me, and I promise I’ll fuck you so good, so right. I’ll fuck you as many times as you let me, and I’ll do it anyway you want. Hard, slow, soft, fast… Just show me how perfect my girl is when she’s cumming around my fingers and I’ll give you what you need”
His promises push you over the edge, and you finish while crying out his name. Literally, you feel moisture leak from your eyes as your head pushes into the pillow beneath you. Eddie leans forward to kiss away the tears, all while still fingering you, helping you to ride out your orgasm for as long as possible.
“That’s it, that’s my girl,” you hear as you start to come back to the world. His hand slows down slightly, more focused on a deep and sensual rhythm, and you feel his hot breath on your temple as he continues to soothe you through your come down. “Did such a good job, sounded so pretty moaning my name, wanna make you make those sounds forever…”
He trails off as he pulls his hand away, and you both stare at his hand and watch how the light reflects off the glistening slick coating his fingers. He plunges them into his mouth, and groans around them at the taste as your jaw drops in disbelief. It was the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. Still recovering from both your shock and intense orgasm, you grunt out in annoyance when Eddie rolls off of you and stands up. You’re about to complain at the loss of contact, until you realize his reason for doing so was to unbutton his jeans. You instantly rise. Your head feels dizzy from sitting up too fast, but you push through the lightheadedness in order to give your full attention to what was about to happen.
Eddie hurriedly moves to yank his tight jeans down his legs, stumbling slightly but regaining his balance enough to not fall, then succeeds pulling down the denim and kicking his legs out of it. His legs are pale- as could be suspected from wearing nothing but full length pants in Indiana- and they look rather soft. You want to reach your hand out and graze his calf to see if they’re as soft as they appear, or if looks are deceiving and his dark wisps of leg hair actually have a coarse texture. There’s no time to dwell on that instinct, as very soon after discarding his pants he follows his boxers with them, and you’re distracted by hair in another area.
Eddie’s cock springs to his stomach when he straightens up from pulling off his underwear. The sight of it both makes you want to spread your legs and squeeze your thighs together, but the choice is made for you when Eddie takes your knee with one of his hands and settles between your legs on the bed. His lips met yours as his shaft grazed your soaked lips, brushing against your clit and causing you to buck up into hip, but your hips are pinned down by his pelvis. The pressure allows some relief, but you crave more.
“Fuck me,” you beg, “Please fuck me, Eddie.” You sound pathetic even to yourself, but you’re far past the point of no return as far as shame goes.
“Do you have protection?” he asks, in between kisses. “I didn’t bring condoms. I didn’t think- I didn’t expect you to actually-”
“I’m on the pill,” you cut him off. “Just fuck me.”
“Oh my god,” he groans, “Are you sure, princess?”
“Please, Eds,” you whine, “I need you.”
“You need me, baby?” he smiles against you while you nod your head. His teeth clash with yours as you try to pull him somehow closer to you than he already is. “I know what you need. I’m gonna give it to you, don’t worry.”
He lifts himself up so that he can grasp the base of his shaft, and slides up and down your slit before he positions the head of his cock to be poking your entrance. There was a stinging sensation as he stretched you out, sinking in slowly inch by inch until you can’t take anymore and have to stop him.
“Too big?” he asks, and the tone of his voice leads you to believe he’s asking this with genuine concern rather than inflating his own ego. He really doesn’t want to hurt you.
“I just need a s- second,” you stutter out while adjusting your pelvis, trying to ease the dull ache.
“Take all the time you need,” he murmurs while pecking you on the tip of your nose. Your hand immediately flies up to guide his lips to your own, and the emotion behind the kiss distracts you from the tenseness you feel, allowing you to loosen up slightly.
“God,” he moans, “you feel even more perfect than I imagined.”
A smug smirk crosses your face and you lift an eyebrow at him. “So you’ve imagined?” you ask, tilting your head and chuckling.
“Don’t act you haven’t fucked yourself with those fingers of yours while calling out my name,” he responds with a challenging look, “I can just picture it now, your sheets all crumpled from you tossing and turning, your hands cramping up but you ignoring it cause you’re so desperate to cum. Tell me, princess, when we would hang out, how long would you wait after I left to run up here and start rubbing this pretty little clit.”
As he tortures you with these (very true) accusations, his right hand snakes its way in between your bodies to start playing with your clit. He touches the nub with the tip of his thumb, applying pressure before rolling it in gentle circles. It’s too much and not enough at the same time.
“I asked you a question, baby,” he says, his lips now moving against your jaw as you focus on relaxing and getting used to the feeling of him inside you. “You gonna be a good girl and answer me?”
His vulgar words combined with his hand’s actions send you a wave of slick arousal, and suddenly you’re ready, and you want him deeper. “Eddie,” you whine, “more.”
“Nuh-uh,” he mutters, not moving an inch and keeping that deviously slow pace with his fingers. “I wanna hear about you touching yourself, princess.”
“Ugh!” you groan, kicking your leg out like a kid throwing a tantrum. “Eddie! It’s embarrassing!”
“No it’s not,” he comforts you, his left hand stroking your cheekbone as he leans down to kiss you sweetly on the lips. “When I’m thinking of you, I like to go nice and slow at first…”
Your breath gets stuck in your throat as you realize what he’s about to do. He’s going to tell you about him getting off to dirty thoughts of you. It should disgust you to know the boy who was teasing you and picking little fights for the past almost two years has been fantasizing about you, but it only gets you going more. You force your eyes open to look at him, and he’s already staring deeply at you, his face showing no signs of mocking.
“I think about those pretty lips, so soft. I think about what they’d feel like on my skin, around my cock.” His unabashed admissions are doing nothing to help with how impatient you’re getting, but his fingers stop circling your clit when you try to slide down deeper onto his dick yourself.
“I know you want it baby, but I’m trying to talk to you,” he whispers, “You don’t wanna be rude, do you? You already wouldn’t answer my question.”
“Sorry,” you whimper weakly, hoping that if you play along he’ll hurry up.
“So sweet for me,” he says as his hand starts up again and he nips at the sensitive skin in the crook of your neck. “I knew you’d be sweet. I knew your tough girl act was a show. All the times you got mouthy and bratty with me, you just wanted to be my sweet, good girl.”
“I take off everything but my panties. And then I lay down in bed, with the fan on cause I get hot. And I start feeling up my stomach-”
He cuts you off with a chuckle. “What are you talking about, princess?”
You bang your head on the pillow and start squirming. “I’m answering your question,” you whimper, “You’re taking too long, Eddie, I need it!”
His fingers circle your clit fast and he finally, finally sinks the rest of the way in you, bottoming out and filling you up so deep and full. “Keep going,” he orders as he starts rocking in and out of you at such a cruelly slow rate. As if reading your mind, he adds on, “I’ll go faster if you keep going.”
“Fuck, Eds,” you moan out in ecstasy, your mind empty and only able to think about his cock and what he’s doing to you. But you want- no, need- him to go faster, so you summon every brain cell you have and force yourself to speak semi-coherently.
“I feel up my stomach til I get goosebumps, and I start massaging my tits and thinking about what it would feel like if it was your h-hands,” you start to stutter as his left hand mimics your descriptions, tickling your abdomen as it makes its way to your chest. “And while I did that, I would spit on my fingers a little bit then stick my hand in my underwear, and I would start rubbing my clit.”
“And you imagined it was me doing it?” he interrupts, now thrusting into you a little harder and a little deeper, his hand massaging your breast before taking a nipple in between his thumb and pointer finger and rolling it gently. 
You nod your head, too lost in the feeling to answer verbally. He really started to pick up the speed now, hitting a spot in you that you were never quite able to reach on your own, and it’s so sinfully delicious that you feel like you’re going to black out from the intensity of the pleasure. He feels so perfect moving against you, the velvety skin of his cock merging so right with your inner walls. You chastise yourself for holding out for so long, if you had known how blissful it would be, you would have confessed the day you realized your feelings. The idea that you could have been doing this for nearly a year has you cursing whatever forces that kept you apart, though a bitter voice in the back of your head reminded you it was your own stubbornness.
“Then what do you do?” he urges you on.
“Um, I would stay like that for a little while,” you continue, finding it difficult to get your thoughts out into full sentences, “and then when I was close I would… um, like stop playing with my tits. So that I could use that hand to finger myself.”
“Fuck, princess. The way you describe it… I bet you look so pretty when you’re touching yourself,” he groans, now pummeling in and out of you in a steady, fast rhythm. His eyes keep switching between watching you and being scrunched closed, like he’s trying to focus on making this last but still wants to look at your face. “I wanna see it someday. Will you show me?”
“Yeah, mhm, sure,” you agree, not even really paying attention to what he was asking you due to being too lost in what you were experiencing. Your orgasm was near, and you wouldn’t be able to hold it off for much longer. “Eddie, I’m close,” you warn, your nails digging into his back as your arms tighten around his neck.
“Me too, baby,” he says back. The rocking of his hips combined with the closeness of his face caused his lips to brush against yours in a repeated pattern, and the intimacy of that only builds your climax up faster. “Where do you want it?”
Eddie Munson, the bane of your existence for the past couple of years is asking you where you want him to cum. “Inside,” you answer without thought. “Inside me, Eds, I wanna feel you leaking out of me.”
“Oh fuck. You can’t say shit like that to me. How am I supposed to keep living my life like normal after this?” he whines, “Are you gonna cum for me, baby? I want you to go first.”
As he finishes telling you this, the wire snaps and you feel electricity shoot throughout your body. Your second orgasm is much stronger than your first, and considering how the first one had you nearly losing consciousness, that was really saying something. The shockwaves make you feel like you’re literally vibrating around him, and being able to feel his dick twitching as he released his load into you only added to that feeling. You were a moaning mess, gasping in and puffing out little breaths of air as you hopelessly cry out, ‘I’m cumming, Eddie, you’re making me cum,’ along with assorted swears over and over and over. His grip on your waist loosened as he wrapped his arms around your middle and held on tight, burying his head into your neck as he rode out his own orgasm. He muttered something into your skin that you couldn’t quite make out with it being muffled, but it sounded suspiciously close to, ‘I love you,’ and your heart leapt at that possibility.
After a few minutes, after you both gathered yourselfs, he rolled over onto his back and you cuddled up to his side. Your head rested on his bare chest and your arms hugged around his stomach, pulling him as close as you could.
“So,” he starts, his arms folded behind his head and a crooked grin adorning his face, “was I the biggest you’ve taken, or does that happen with all the guys you bring home?”
You furrow your brows in confusion as you turn your head to look at him. “What do you mean?” you manage to mumble out.
“I mean, how tight you were. And how you couldn’t take all of me at first,” he says, like it was obvious.
“Well, in sex-ed they said the first time usually hurts. This wasn’t as bad as I was expecting though, just kinda stung a little bit at first,” you explain, laying your head flat against him once more and scraping at the nail on your index finger with your thumb.
Eddie stops moving and is quiet for a good thirty seconds. You start to feel a trickling of doubt, and become anxious that you somehow said the wrong thing. He reaches up to take your hand in his, effectively stopping your nervous finger picking and stealing your attention. When you glance back up at him he’s staring at you with wide eyes and an open mouth.
“Princess,” he says slowly, like somehow you were the one in this situation not making any sense, “You’re not telling me that was your first time.”
Oh. You suppose that was a pretty important tidbit of information you withheld that he probably would’ve liked to have known before you engaged in intercourse. In your defense, there was no reason for him to assume you weren’t a virgin. You only graduated high school the year prior, and during your time at Hawkins you never had a serious boyfriend. Even when you were being crowned prom queen, your date to the dance was James McKenna, and he came out as gay the week after graduation before moving to New York. Sure, you were privy to the rumors thrown around in the boy’s locker room about what you did to this guy under the bleachers and what you did to that guy at Skull Rock, but there was no more gossip surrounding you than the average cheerleader.
“I’m sorry,” you apologize, suddenly feeling guilty for not being completely transparent. “I guess I just thought you knew, or like, would be able to tell?” you say, your intonation changing to a questioning lilt by the end of your sentence.
He starts blinking his wide eyes frantically, his head shaking in disbelief as he tries to think of what to say. That self conscious dread from earlier starts to sneak it’s way back in, and you begin having second thoughts, worrying if he- like your high school friends- thought it was weird that you waited to have sex. He must have noticed the fear in your eye, because he held you tighter against him and comfortingly rubbed up and down your forearm.
“It’s nothing bad, I promise,” he says, speaking quickly. “I guess I just assumed. I mean, you were so popular. Everyone wanted you, anyone would have been lucky to have you-” you smile and blush at his words- “And those guys on the basketball team were always bragging and telling stories-”
“If a plate of spaghetti grew legs and started walking around, those guys would claim that they fucked it. Why would you listen to that noise?” you interjected, your annoyance clear.
He held his hands up in defense. “You’re right, I don’t know why I believed any of that crap. I know you have better taste than that. I mean, you like me, so that proves you have a much more sophisticated taste in men.”
“Sophisticated is one word for it, I guess,” you mumble while rolling your eyes, before sitting up to grab your nightie from the foot of the bed.
“If you weren’t active, why were you on the pill?” he questions you while rubbing your back.
“I’m a grown woman. I figured it was going to happen eventually, and I wanted to make sure I was ready when it did,” you answer distractedly as you work on turning your pajamas the right side out.
Eddie hums in understanding but is otherwise quiet as he watches you redress yourself, except for a cheeky wolf whistle when you need to bend over to pick up your panties. Once you're covered up again, you turn around to see him staring at you in amusement.
“What?” you ask with a smile, climbing back onto the bed and throwing a leg over his thighs, settling onto his lap. The tips of your noses brush against each other as you see that gleam in his eyes you recognize as him trying to stifle laughter when teasing you. “What is it?” you repeat, shoving him gently on his chest before looping your arms around his neck.
He shakes with silent laughter then leans back to quirk a brow at you. “A plate of spaghetti?” he asks. You grab a pillow to hit him in the head with, but drop it when you’re tackled and pinned down, giggling and kicking your feet as he kisses up your collar bone.
4K notes · View notes
yuri-is-online · 1 month
Note
Fyuuture Kid AU is actually my favorite au of yours; I just think it's cute! How's floyd Yutu? I feel like there would be a thin line between "You're cool ig" and "You and shrimp are a little... close. Stop it." But once he knows that's his kid? Yeah all bets are of. Sorry Azul; he actually CANT go to work today he's too busy being a FATHER and a HUSBAND (these single fucks can cry about it)
No because this is exactly what I see happening and just the image of Floyd being like "nah I can't hang out spouse needs my help with the kid. Oh you wouldn't get it because YOU GOT NO BITCHES" he's just so silly I love him so much (つ╥﹏╥)つ
notes: they/them used for Yuu, this is part of the fyuuture kid au, Floyd's part can be found here, and the explanation for the au can be found here. You can find even more stuff for it on my masterlist under the series section.
Tumblr media
Yutu wasn't really prepared for the first people he saw to be his parents. He knew he was going to have to see them eventually, and he did a lot of preparing mentally for seeing Yuu again but his dad? His father who he has heard so many stories about, the person he admires second only to you?
"And who's this little guppy?" The whites of Floyd's eyes widen as he zeros in on him, Yutu's senses force him to drop into a defensive stance and get in between the danger and Yuu. He's being circled by a larger, more dangerous predator. Every nerve ending in his body is screaming he is in danger, that Yuu's in danger, but he feels happy. He knows what his father's voice sounds like now.
"I ain't a guppy." The points of his teeth flash, but Floyd isn't amused by Yutu's claim.
"You are what I say you are, small fry."
Floyd! Yutu is very extroverted. He enjoys talking to people and had a lot of friends before and after being isekaid. If Yuu or one of his friends was more introverted he took a great deal of pride in doing most of the talking for them. He likes being helpful, or at least he says he does. If you've seen those videos of morays who act like puppies around divers they've known for years, that's sort of how Yutu acts. He's a big puppy who pretends not to know his own strength. Unless your his parent, he fears no man, but Yuu's wrath? That scares him.
He's similar to Floyd in school performance, he doesn't like to pay attention so he doesn't always do well. He didn't have a choice about paying attention to magic classes though, among all the different versions of Yutu, Floyd! Yutu might be one of the most cracked when it comes to combat magic. If you were to ask him about it, he'd say he sees his skill as another way of being helpful, but that prey drive is no joke he does like a good fight. Just not when that fight is against his dad...
He has always loved the water, whether he was swimming or out playing in the rain he always felt most at home in the water. In your world he was on his school's swim team, and while Yutu gets why he isn't allowed to be on NRC's he is still a bit salty about it. On the one hand he gets to actually live in the water now. On the other he sort of needs to find a hobby.
Maybe he could focus more on cooking? Or fishing? Or would that just be hunting under the sea...
The oceans of Twisted Wonderland were never safe, but in the time that Yutu arrived in they had become borderline unlivable due to blot pollution. Yutu really loved being in Octavinelle for allowing him to experience a little slice of what the Coral Sea was supposed to have been like. The version of the dorm he was placed in didn't have the lounge anymore, so he is very curious about Azul's business.
Papa (Floyd) Leech isn't very impressed. On the one hand he thinks it is kind of funny watching the shrimplet run around campus following Yuu like he's convinced they're going to disappear. Floyd feels like that sometimes too, it makes him want to drown you in his embrace and keep you here forever but he tries to ignore those feelings most of the time.
On the other hand knowing he can't just drop by Ramshackle and have you all to himself anymore makes it really hard to ignore them. Shrimplet doesn't even have the sense to be afraid of him, Floyd swears he gets excited when he threatens to give him a squeeze. And what's worse is you are really protective of him! Sure you're protective of Baby Seal too, but he's got enough sense to piss off when Floyd glares at him. He does leave when Floyd threatens to fight him, but not because he's scared. He looked sad actually, which Floyd clocks and brings back to Jade and Azul.
You asked another question about what happened to the boys in the bad future, and I want to save most of my thoughts related to what happened to Floyd for that answer, but Jade was still alive when Yutu got isekaid and he was able to meet him. They had a really good relationship, so when Jade comes sniffing around for information, Yutu is able to dodge his questions pretty easily. Future! Jade actually used his signature spell on him before he traveled back in time just to fuck with his past self. He did make his nephew promise to tell him if the one use rule applied to this case. Partially for science, partially because he knew that it would give his younger self the chance to keep the information to himself.
And keep it to himself he does- sort of. He makes sure Yutu knows he knows, but he never explicitly says anything to him. No what he wants to do is distract Yutu so Floyd can be a sulky coward in peace. That he does make clear to Yutu, he would like his brother to have more than one kid for him to be a bad influence on and he needs him to actually make a move on Yuu for that to happen.
I am not 100% on how the reveal on how Floyd learns about what's happening and who Yutu is, but once he does he is very serious about it. He wants to know what Yutu thought about him, why he knows more about Jade then his dear old dad, and what happened to Yuu to make him so protective. Wasn't he there at all? He'd never abandon his mate or his son... little shrimplet knows that, right?
Well he's just going to have to make sure he does know that. And everyone else too, "these single fucks can cry about it" indeed. Yutu is getting dragged to the Atlantica Memorial Museum so they can swim and talk about Azul's overblot, and how cute his parent was for standing up to him. He still wants to spend time alone with Yuu sometimes, but he gets why Yutu is afraid of letting them out of his sight now. He would feel the same way. If Floyd can manage it he wants to take him back home too (not to introduce him to the grandparents since that would just raise questions), since Yutu never got to go there.
Floyd would be such a good dad. An embarrassing one too, you know he teases Yutu, roughhouses with him, and openly flirts with Yuu in front of him. He's really looking forward to getting to be embarrassingly in love with Yuu in the future, and no silly "end of the world" thing is going to stop him.
199 notes · View notes
Note
Hello! May I please request #5 “Flowers” from the prompt list? Thank you! :D
Ayyyyyyy one of my fave prompts from the list! Glad you requested it!!
Summary: You give Astarion a personally handmade flower crown
Tumblr media
Each flower has its own unique meaning, though some meanings have been lost to time. Your mother’s voice teaching you the meaning of some flowers has long faded from your memory, a loss you mourn as you scour the markets for books on flowers and their meanings.
You know Astarion isn’t one for receiving flowers, but its not the flower you want him to hold dear to his heart, no, it’s the meaning of the flower that you want to imprint into his mind for all eternity.
By a stroke of luck, you find a book detailing the meaning and uses of certain flowers in Faerun hidden away in the corners of a merchant’s store. A quick purchase later and its now permanently in your hands, ready for perusing.
Astarion raises an eyebrow when he sees you sitting in your tent, engrossed in a book instead of sitting with the others around the campfire, unwinding after a long day of adventuring. The others don’t seem to mind the missing company, but this is most unusual behaviour from you so Astarion takes it upon himself to investigate this change.
“Hello darling, not in the mood for mingling tonight?” He smiles, closing the distance between the two of you. You shift over wordlessly, making space for him and he happily sits down, taking a look at the book you’re reading.
“I had no idea you were into flowers, I thought you were more into…clothes.”
“You thought wrong, then.” His favourite smile of yours graces your lips as amusement flashes across your face. “If however it were a book about clothes…I could be persuaded to be into clothes.”
Astarion can’t help but laugh at your attempt at a sly look and leans in to press a quick peck to your lips. “Leave that kind of talk to me, darling. You’re positively terrible at it.”
“At least I’m not negatively terrible at it.” You shoot back.
Astarion rolls his eyes, half immune to your type of jokes at this point and swipes the book from your lap, curious. You’re left hugging him from behind as he holds the book out of your reach, reading the page you’re on.
“Aren’t night orchids our resident cleric’s favourite flower?”
“Yes, they are.” You rest your chin on his shoulder, still clinging onto him.
“Night orchids are known to symbolise rarity, uniqueness, beauty and spirituality. Who knew her favourite flower represented her so well?” He remarks.
“They also represent someone else very well.” You mumble into his back sheepishly. Astarion hums in response, closing the book after placing a bookmark in it for you and turns to face you, wrapping his arms around your waist.
“Yes, Star?” You ask.
Astarion buries his face into your hair, letting out a soft breath that ruffles the strands on the top of your head, causing you to smile softly and reach upwards to run your fingers through his hair. A quiet purr rumbles in his throat as he leans into your touch, enjoying the attention you’re lavishing upon him instead of the book. You indulge him, knowing nights like this where you’re not needed by anyone else are few and far between. Astarion curls his fingers around yours, enjoying the way your hand neatly slots into his as if they were made for each other. Maybe they were, maybe you were always meant for him and vice versa. He quite likes that thought.
You play with a few strands of his silver hair, twirling them around a finger. “A flower wreath would look really nice on you.”
“Would it now?” Astarion would really rather you remain here until dawn breaks instead of going out to pick flowers, even if they are for him.
“It would. You will look really pretty with one sitting on your head like a crown.” You draw a ghostly circle around his head, mirroring where the flower wreath would sit before clapping your hands together. “That settles it! I’ll make you one!”
Astarion quickly moves to grab your arm, eyes wide as his mouth moves to convince you to stay, to not leave him yet. He’s ready to beg you to remain by his side for what remains of the night, afraid that someone might steal you away from him but you haven’t moved an inch from your spot.
“I still don’t know what flower to use,” you chuckle. “Guess I’ll have to stay here for the rest of the night, hope you don’t mind.”
“No, of course not, darling.” He swallows, shoving his embarrassment to the back of his mind. You lean against his chest, book tossed aside in favour of your lover and inhale his scent, blissfully snuggling against him. He holds you close, tracing patterns on your exposed skin until you fall asleep and he tucks you into your bedroll, pressing a kiss to your forehead and sneaks out of your tent, but not before wishing you a quiet goodnight that you’re far too deep in sleep to hear.
The matter of the flower crown gets pushed to the back of your mind and out of Astarion’s head in favour of more pressing matters as your party journeys on until you stumble upon the cave Shadowheart once lived in deep in the underground Sharran temple.
While the others search the cave for loot or lost childhood memories, a certain plant catches your eye — night orchids. You go about picking them, counting how many you would need for a flower crown that would fit Astarion’s head and are relieved to find there are sufficient night orchids in the cave for your endeavour. Stashing them safely in your pouch, you turn to gather the others and head off to the Sharran dorms for some much needed rest whilst letting Shadowheart take back as much of her lost memories as possible. She deserved that, at least, for all she’d been through.
You claim the bed closest to the back corner of the room and begin work, praying that you remember how to make a flower crown and fortunately, muscle memory saves the day as your fingers weave flower after flower into a circular shape. It’s not the best looking flower crown you’ve ever made, being out of practice, but it’s certainly passable. You turn the delicate object in your hands, checking it over before glancing upwards. Astarion was arguing with Wyll about the bottle of wine he definitely stole despite his claims of innocence and the others were enjoying the show, save for Gale who was cooking tonight’s dinner.
Slipping out of your bed, you sneak over to Astarion’s bed to deliver the goods before walking up to the group as if nothing happened, breaking up the fight that was escalating with the announcement of food.
When Astarion throws back the covers to lie down, he finds a flower crown sitting atop a book he remembers seeing you read before and stares at them, resisting the urge to throw the covers up again to remove the illusion. Surely he was hallucinating or something, no one would deign to personally handcraft something so beautiful and delicate just for him. Or maybe the giver had placed them on the wrong bed, any of the others maybe except for Lae’zel would appreciate such a gift.
“Do you like it?” Your voice sounds behind him. He turns around, nearly dropping the blanket on the flower crown.
“It’s for me?” He asks, confused.
“Yeah. It’s on your bed, is it not? Did I make a mistake?” You frown.
“No, you placed it on my bed.” Had you made the flower crown for him? Why did you spend such precious time and effort on him? The thing of beauty was wasted on someone like him, it would have been better off in the hands of anyone else, even Karlach despite her probably reducing it to cinders before it could properly rest on her head.
“That’s a relief. I thought I had the wrong bed for a moment,” you smile. “Well, goodnight then, Astarion.”
Before he can say anything, you’ve headed off to your bed, leaving him alone with his swirling thoughts. He gingerly picks the crown up, checking to see if anyone is paying him any mind before slipping out of the dorm and putting it on when he deems it safe enough to do so. His gaze falls upon a nearby mirror and sadness clouds his eyes when he realises he won’t be able to see how he looks like with the flower crown. His reflection will forever evade him, not even the tadpole could keep it from running away.
“You really do look pretty wearing it.”
“Why, thank you, darling.” Astarion smiles, taking a little bow. The action causes the flower crown to slip and when he straightens, it’s lopsided.
“Concentrate on the tadpole. I want to show you how you look with the flower crown on.”
Astarion blinks.
“Oh come on, don’t look at me like that. I hadn’t thought about using our tadpoles like this before until Gale pointed it out,” you huff. “I bet you haven’t thought about it either.”
“I —”
“Concentrate already.”
“As you wish, dearest.”
Astarion closes his eyes, concentrating on his tadpole’s connection with yours and when he opens his eyes, a pale silver haired elf stands before him, ruby red eyes piercing into his very soul. He really is pretty with the flower crown on, like you said. The dark blue colour of the night orchids stands in stark contrast against the silver of his hair, creating a halo of blue around his head.
When he next opens his eyes, he’s back in his own body, tears threatening to spill over.
“Thank you,” he manages to whisper, throat clogging up.
“You’re welcome,” you smile softly, reaching over to cup his cheeks. He closes the gap without hesitation, lips meeting yours in a dance of bliss and affection. The night lasts longer than usual, or maybe it was longer than a night but neither of you can tell from underground.
When Astarion heads back to his bed, he remembers the book that is still lying underneath its sheets — a book about flowers and their various meanings with a rather familiar bookmark sticking out of it. He flips to the marked page and the section is titled ‘Night Orchids’. At the end of the passage letters come together, forming a sentence that causes tears to cascade down his face.
Gift this sweet bloom to someone you believe is beautiful in their unique and special way.
246 notes · View notes
personasintro · 8 months
Text
Mutual Help | #06
Tumblr media
𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭: @kithtaehyung
Tumblr media
↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; in order for you to pretend to be his girlfriend, he helps you with your sexual desires ⏤ he calls it mutual help
⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jungkook x reader
⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fake dating au, fluff, angst, smut, slow burn
⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language
⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.4k+
Tumblr media
⇠ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯. | 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ⇢ 
Tumblr media
Jungkook's mouth is ajar, a soft puff of breaths leaving his small pouty lips while his eyes are shut. He's topless, naked chest covered by the thin blanket but you still get a little peak of his  defined collarbones and bulged biceps that grips the soft material closer to his body.
Sleeping in the same bed as Jungkook isn't new, although it's been awhile since that happened. It feels fresh, yet still the same. You both stayed on each side of the bed, not touching each other at all.
The memories of Jungkook's lips and touch are still fresh, even when the alcohol finally washed out of your system. You weren't that drunk, but now that you're sober you can tell how bold you've become with him yesterday. Even those memories of yesterday found their way to your dreams, where you could feel him over and over again.
It's not the first time you've had a dream like this one, but this time you're not weirded out by it. He's still the same person, your best friend, but you got to see him in another light yesterday. But does Jungkook feel the same?
Won't he find it weird waking up next to you, knowing you humped each other like horny bunnies just yesterday? God, even that term makes you cringe and shiver in embarrassment.
Maybe you should just disappear, tell him that you got something important to do and act like none of this happened. You both agreed to help each other, so it shouldn't be weird. But still, you're worried what will happen once Jungkook wakes up. This is different from the other times when you both slept in the same bed, woke up and continued with your daily lives, not finding anything weird. You might haven't had sex, but you still made cum each other – that's a valid point. Different scenarios fly through your mind, each second that Jungkook might wake up, makes you feel sick even more. So, slowly and quietly, you stand up and grab your clothes.
Jungkook's old shirt feels too comfortable on your body, but this is the least concern you should be having. Your dress from the previous night smells awful, your perfume mixed with cigarettes and sweat is not a pleasant smell. But you don't have any other choice. You're not sure if Jungkook still keeps some of your old clothes you forgot somewhere around here, and you don't have time to find out.
There's a little bit of rustling behind you, and you don't have the guts to turn around to check.
"Are you seriously sneaking out?"
Oh, fuck.
His morning voice is raspy and low, thick with tiredness and amusement. When you turn around, you're met by his hooded eyes but awake enough, to have some sort of glint in them. The blanket slides down off his chest, revealing his naked skin when he stretches his arms with a pleasant groan.
"I was just about to dress up myself." you murmur, ignoring the way he raises a brow at you, clearly not believing you a word.
"You don't have to do a walk of shame. I'll drive you home, just give me an hour." he tells you, too busy stretching out to notice your reddened cheeks and awkward cough that escapes your mouth.
Well, the good thing is he doesn't seem to act weird or suspicious. In fact, he seems to be totally fine which leaves you to be the only one who's freaking out. "Sure, that sounds great." you tell him, giving him a tight smile that makes him snort.
"You don't have to be weird, y'know," he chuckles, sitting up as he eyes you up and down. "I thought we both agreed on this."
You've always admired how straight forward and open minded he is, acting way more mature about this whole thing than you do right now. But you've never done this and instead of being unsure about where you stand, you were just too scared to face him in fear it'd affect your friendship.
"I'm weird, aren't I?" you chuckle, dropping your clothes back onto his black chair before you sit on the edge of his bed. "I'm sorry, we were just both drunk and I thought it'd be weird once you wake up. I was scared that you're going to regret it or something."
It's nice to get it off your chest, and it feels even nicer to be able to talk about it with him so openly. He understandably nods, shifting towards you so he sits next to you. He drapes his arm over your shoulders, pulling you closer as you let out a surprised whimper.
"I don't regret anything," he tells you, poking you into your ribs with his free hand causing you to glare at him. "Do you?"
"No." you answer him, sure of your answer as he nods.
"Cool," he says, standing up as he stretches his arm and legs with the same pleasant groan.
Your eyes automatically drop towards his crotch, soft bulge visible in his boxers that causes you to blush at the memories of you rubbing against him. "Now can you make me your bokkeum-bap?" he asks, stretching his neck this time, luckily not noticing you eyeing him.
In other cases, you'd act annoyed that he wants you to cook early in the morning but you'd still do it. But all you can muster right now, is to ask him the first thing that crosses your mind. "With kimchi?"
He grins, crinkling his nose as he always does, at your lack of objecting. "Yes."
And you quickly scurry out of his bedroom, not letting him catch you staring at him and eating him out alive. Jeon Jungkook in the mornings is dangerous.
Tumblr media
The smell of kimchi and eggs is filling Jungkook's whole apartment, while you hum a familiar melody and stir the rice. You're too caught up in your cooking that you don't notice Jungkook approaching you, standing behind you. The smell of fresh aftershave and shower gel gives him away, but before you can turn around, Jungkook's already looking behind your shoulder. He's so damn close, his face just inches away from yours as he loudly sniffs.
"Hmm, smells nice." he hums, lips smacking in delight at the sight of fresh food.
All you can focus on is the way he smells, not the food. The rice starts to hiss, and you quickly put it off the stove, glancing at Jungkook who's standing behind you in his sweatpants. You gulp at the sight, flickering your eyes between his abs and eyes.
"Put some shirt on for fucks sake." you scold him, pulling out two plates from his cupboard as you serve breakfast.
"Am I making you frustrated?"
You don't see him, being turned to him with your back, but you can perfectly hear the teasing behind his voice. You grip the edge of the counter, rolling your eyes as you look at him.
"Jungkook," you groan, causing him to laugh before he disappears and returns with a baggy shirt covering his naked torso. Thank God.
For the rest of the time that you're both eating, Jungkook is mostly the one who talks the most, even with a full mouth and cheeks puffed out with breakfast. You don't have the heart to scold him for doing that, hiding an amused smirk from his cuteness. He fills you up on the most random things which mostly involve his work, and all the stuff that you've missed out. It's another moment that you realize how much you missed him. Simple – eating, sitting and talking with each other like you've always used to.
When you're both done eating, you're about to stand up and wash your empty plate, when Jungkook waves you off and tells you to sit down. He washes dishes with his back turned to you and you take that time to watch the way, his back flexes with each movement. It's no lie that you're attracted to him, you've always admitted that. Maybe not to him, but to yourself for sure. There were times when the confident and cocky guy you knew, suddenly became self-conscious and started to work out even more. It all happened when he met Kiko, certain that he wanted to win her. You knew he'd, it was just a matter of time. It's hard to resist a man like Jungkook, especially when he's polite, charming and knows how to treat everyone.
He's not perfect. Nobody is.
However, even his – what you could describe as negative qualities – are nothing compared to his good ones. He gets jealous, not to the point that he gets angry but he becomes insecure, questioning himself. He's competitive, but it's nothing serious and you often joke about it. But there's no need for him to be competitive, because he wins every time.
"So," he speaks up, cutting off your thoughts. He turns around, wiping his hands with a dishcloth  before he slings it back to its place.
He sits down on his previous spot, eyes boring into yours while he rests his elbows on the table.
"I believe you wanted to talk about some rules."
"Yes," you nod, standing up before you walk up to the small cabinet where he has notepad and pens stored.
You smile when you find them there, feeling some kind of triumph over the fact that you've remembered such a ridiculous and minor thing. He watches you clicking the pen with a curious gaze, snorting when he sees you writing a huge 'rules'.
"Is this necessary?" he asks amused, watching you send him a glare.
"No, but we're going to have a better outlook on the rules if we write them down." you explain, satisfied when he gives you a nod.
"Okay," he drawls, resting his chin on his palm. "Any rules you want?"
"Hmm, no kissing." you answer and before you can continue, Jungkook cuts you off.
"What?!" he almost yells, looking at you as if you've just grown two heads. "How do you expect me not to kiss you? We're supposed to be dating. People will find it weird if we won't kiss in front of them, especially Taehyung and Jimin. They already seem to be suspicious, especially Jimin."
"If you just let me talk," you scold him, raising a brow at him, even though you just want to laugh at his frustrated face. He looks so funny with his chest heaving and widened eyes. "I meant no kissing besides when we're in public or doing... whatever the fuck you wanna call it."
"You mean your part of the deal."
"You could say so," you murmur, not really sure if that's the right way of calling it but you just go along with it. It doesn't matter anyway, you both know what you're talking about. "I think it'd be weird if we kissed whenever."
"I don't have any reason to kiss you," he says, eyes widening once again when he sees you frown. "I mean.. when we're not in public or having sex." he explains himself, his blunt words causing you to look down in mere embarrassment.
"We don't have to have sex, of course. That's not what I meant when I said--"
"Jesus, calm down, Kook. I know what you mean." you interrupt him, chuckling when he sighs in relief.
You talk back and forth, talking about the most basic rules which includes not saying anything to anyone. Nobody has to know the truth because for one month, you're dating each other. Even if it's fake. Next one is to be honest. Whenever one of you feels like it's too much, you talk about it and try to fix it.
The other one causes you to awkwardly cough, when he brings up the sex part. But he has a point. The two of you are going to be exclusive, if you ever decided to have sex. It's just to be safe. Honestly, you can't even imagine having sex with someone else while you're fucking Jungkook.
"Do you have, like, any list of things that you're willing to try out?" he asks, causing you to almost choke on your spit.
He looks so serious, eyes watching you with so much intensity that makes you want to hide from them. But you shouldn't be acting like this. It's stupid to be all shy about it and Jungkook is making sure he won't cross any lines in the future.
"I've never thought about it. I think I just want to find out in a natural and spontaneous way." you shrug, seeing him nod as he takes a mental note of your statement.
"Well, if you ever feel uncomfortable make sure to tell me. I don't want to hurt you in any way. Things in sex can get intense and since you don't know what you're willing to try, there could be a time when you'd want to stop. Just be sure to be vocal with me." he says, gaze filled with worry and certainty.
It makes you wonder what kind of persona he is in bed. What is he capable of? The unknowing of it causes a slight burn between your legs and you've to silently cough, thinking about something else.
"Don't worry. If you ever hurt me, I'll just punch you or something."
"Jeez, thanks," he rolls his eyes. "I think telling me to stop would be just fine."
You hide a grin, licking your lips.
"What else?" you ask, lips purse in thought.
You most likely talked about everything. There's not that much to be said and instead of making rules, you've just talked about how this is going to work.
"Don't try to fall in love with me."
Jungkook's cocky grin causes you to roll your eyes at him. "I'm not that cliche, buddy."
"It's hard not to fall in love with me. I'm charming." he says cockily, and you know he's just lightening up the mood and being his usual self.
"Oh, please," you exclaim dramatically. "I've known your ass for years. I'd fallen in love with you by now but sorry to break it to you, but I'm not interested." you joke, watching him gasp in return.
"A-are you using me?" he places his hand over his chest, mouth agape and you can't help but snicker.
"I just want your cock and you want... you need me." you nod, lips pursed as you make your point.
He licks his bottom lip, biting into it before he chuckles. "That's using."
"No, it's not," you disagree straight away, wanting to use his own words against him. "It's mutual help." you smirk, watching him do the same before you both erupt in laughter.
646 notes · View notes
lady-ashfade · 4 months
Note
What about medieval Percy Jackson? Literally anything. I just like the idea
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
-£ Medieval Percy Jackson x reader
-£ warnings: short, being chased, Percy getting into trouble as usual, just really for fun.
Tumblr media
passing through the streets he tried not to knock anyone down but the path was so packed with people, of course he had to run through the market streets. the guards behind him shouted for him to stop and didn’t care who they pushed to catch up to him. classic.
the kings men always thought they were better then the common man.
his eyes found a stall with clothes on it and he noticed a regular black cloak. running by it he quickly snatched it from the table and yelled his apologies to the man running the stall.
for what felt like years he finally passed through a bigger crowd of people. he thanked the gods above and pushed through to lose the guards. he made his way through and he could hear the men’s voices slowly drown out. throwing on the hood to disguise himself he made his way to the alleyway between the building. 
once get got into the shade he leaned against the wall to catch his breath. he was getting sick of running away every day. even though he never did anything wrong.
a sharp point carefully pressed against his back and his body stiffened at the familiar feeling. “got something for me Jackson?” he knew that voice as well as being held at blade point. the same person who always took his missions from under his fingertips. always one step ahead.
“not really. I have a bad apple on my bag if you want that.” he cracked a joke that made the them huff out in amusement too.
“where is it?” He looked around to find half of their face. if only he could know what’s underneath that mask. “don’t give me that look, give it.”
the blade pressed harder but he knew they wouldn’t do anything or at this moment at least. they liked to play with their pray. “can’t you just let me have this one?”
he saw them smirk under the mask and roll their eyes, dropping the blade from his back and step back. “that’s the thing,” they sighed and kept their eyes on him. something about their tone made him confused…
“I’m actually not here for the cup.”
their foot hit his stomach before he could react and he dropped to the ground only to get tackled down. he struggled but they were clearly skilled in tying up someone. the ropes tugged against the skin of his wrist as he groaned in pain.
“I can pay you double if you let me go.” he tried to bargain with them. they chuckled again and leaned up after finishing up with the ropes.
“no you can’t.” They stated. he knew he couldn’t but it was worth a try. he was pulled up and forced to stand as they held onto him. “where are taking me?”
his worry struck him and who they had been paid by. the king, the monsters he haunted, many people wanted him. “luckily for you, you aren’t going to die. but I think your dad wants a visit.” they said. he was pushed and almost tripped but he caught himself. he groaned at the mention of his father.
“let’s go pretty boy.” the nickname made his ears ring and his cheeks flush.
301 notes · View notes
imrllytootiredforthis · 9 months
Text
yandere felix
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
summary: basically just sub yandere lixie x dom reader
a/n: i do not condone this sort of behaviour, this is purely for amusement purposes and should not be done in real life nor' should be normalized
Tumblr media
There was never a time Felix could remember where he wasn’t in love with you
Ever since you were little with a childlike innocence, clinging to each other's sides and running around in the dirt and mud as little kids do
and your parents would joke about how one day you would get married
From the time where you’d stick out your tongue in disgust at the prospect, claiming that he had cooties and roll your eyes, groaning at your parents for being so weird,
all while he blushed shyly, hiding behind you and agreeing with every word you said
he was absolutely smitten with you in the adorable way children are
and as you grew older the dynamics simply stuck, 
he was shy and cute, hanging on for the ride while you surged into your elementary years.
clinging to your side all throughout grade school to the point where your teachers felt like they needed to separate the two of you
not that it made much of a difference if you weren’t in the same class though.
Constantly you were kicked out for sneaking into his class during school hours, sneaking in halfway through class, sitting beside him just outside of the teacher's view until you were inevitably caught with how loud the two of you were laughing
during break time you were off and out of the classroom in a matter of seconds, elated to see each other again after forever apart (in your little kid minds at least)
it never failed to surprise people the 180 Felix's personality did when he was around you.
always a soft-spoken gentle child, not speaking much out of turn but it was undeniable,
He laughed, he smiled, he joked. He seemed to be energized by your very presence
when you weren't together he’d be surrounded by kids who tried to be his friend but they never mattered. They were just a substitute for you until you were reunited 
He was your best friend in the entire word
And you were his
god forbid anyone who ever tried to bully or tease him 
the few who tried, cornering him in the courtyard, taunting him for hiding behind you all the time got what they deserved
A black eye and a broken bone or two. 
While you proudly sported your fair amount of bruising and a suspension from the school for ‘violence’ and 'bullying'
You argued, they didn't listen
"It was their fault though!"
And Felix nodded along,
getting himself suspended the very next day so that he could be with you
neither of your parents were quite happy but they’d long since stopped trying to separate you
It was an impossible task they’d found
you were inseparable
with enough nights finding that one of you would sneak out to meet the other they decided it was just best to allow it and let the two of you come through the front door
instead of Felix breaking his arm trying to scale the house into your open window
Then came high school
hormones got involved and bodily functions changed, feelings got weird and things were different
you began to see things differently. Began to see other people, discovered just how wide world was with so many experiences and people out there;
so many things to do and accomplish, so many things to see and touch and feel
but where you began to see others, when you began to see the world
all Felix ever saw was you
But his feelings weren’t as innocent as before.
They were different.
Looking at you made him feel all tingly and made his heart beat faster.
Your crooked smile made his cheeks burn red and when you grabbed his hand he swore he felt butterflies in his stomach
and to his shame he found that whenever you hugged him or wore his clothes it made certain things a little hard to deal with 
it was embarrassing and his little crush only grew and grew over the years
his jealously only burning brighter when he sees you hang out with anyone else
and then, to his horror you started dating.
He knew you never saw him the way he saw you.
Knew that while he looked at you like that, you were looking at someone else the same way
But he though that...
he didn't know what he thought
but to see you date someone else
He was your “best friend”, “Practically my brother!” You’d tell people and he’d smile along, acting as if it didn’t break something inside of him each time that you did
As if he didn’t love you so much it hurts
As if he didn’t think you were-are his soulmate, the most perfect thing on earth-no one else deserves you, no one could ever be enough for you
Not even him.
but he’s willing to die trying
Your ‘Best friend’
That cuts off any other friends he may have when you jokingly tell him that he's not spending enough time with you, isolating himself from the entire world,
your name the only thing in his head as he stares down at your contact waiting for you to message him. 
he's at your beck and call, whenever you want, him he's there no matter what.
just the sweetest thing ever, bringing you little gifts that reminded him of you, flowers and candy when you're sad, spending nights cuddled up in your arms because you didn't want to be alone, stars in his eyes as he hangs onto every word that you say.
but it's okay, because it's platonic right?
right?
Just platonic with how he has so many pictures of you, enough to fill an entire album
Just platonic the way he tries to rile you up and get you angry so that he can get videos of you yelling at him, calling him pathetic and dumb in your rage
Platonic with how he uses them to get off in the dark of night when it’s only him the sound of your voice filling his ears
the way he specifically watches porn with people that look like you and listens to those asmrs labelled ‘mommy takes care of baby boy’ or some shit with people that sound like you
Just platonic the way he watches so much of that shit and yet never loses his virginity
He wants to keep that for you
Only for you
Even if you have a 'boyfriend'
Even if that 'boyfriend' is an asshole and doesn't deserve you
It's just not fair that he gets to have you
All Felix wants to be under you, feeling you, hearing you moan and whisper dirty secrets to him
He wants you to corrupt him
Like you do to him.
He’s spent so many nights, ear against the wall as you fuck him right on the other side, touching himself to your words
The desire deep inside of him as his fingers fumbled to undo his pants, revealing an undeniable evidence of arousal—aching and throbbing with pent-up desire
For you
Only for you
Always for you
Trying to moan so quietly to hear every little word, every little pant fallen from your lips
Squeezing his eyes shut, imagining you were talking to him, you were stroking his cock, calling him a dirty slut
“Are you enjoying this you little perv?”
“C’mon, be a good boy and beg for it.”
“You’re such a slut.”
“Doing so good for me, such a good boy~”
Fuck
That’s the side of you he’s oh so in love with
When your tone shifts to a purr, something so irresistible leaking into every word. 
Or when it’s a mean growl, disgust dripping from every syllable, venom sounding like the sweetest melody in his ears
He can picture the way that you would lick over your lips like you were about to devour him whole
Picture you standing over him, making him feel so small
He’d reach down and lace his fingers with yours, face bright with a blush, looking up with angel eyes,
ready to do anything, beg for your attention, plead for your affection, get down on his knees for a single touch
the way your hands brush over his cheeks, lingering on his perfect features and his cute little heart shaped freckle
tracing over his pretty lips before pressing your fingers into his mouth, down onto his tongue, listening to the way he’d moan, warbled speech asking for more
because he’s greedy and he’s selfish and he wants it all
wants all of you and wants you to have all of him
and he knows that it would never be enough. That he loves you so much, wants so much of you it would never be enough until he was so close nothing could tell apart the two of you
Until he could crawl into your skin, be safe and warm with you
And it could still never be enough.
But this. It’s enough. For now.
Enough in this stolen moment of indulgence, a euphoric solace imagining himself intertwined with you, hearing your voice and for a fleeting second it’s not through a wall, it’s not to someone else. It’s to him
a brief transient escape from his yearning and desperation for you, a moment where his head goes hazy and he tastes colours and sees sounds and feels you touching him
A moment where he feels like his sanity is slowly cracking apart under everything before reality comes crashing back in waves of guilt and longing.
with his fingers coated in his own cum and your name whispered like a prayer on his pretty lips and his chest aching with the want to be in your arms
When you formally introduce your 'boyfriend' to Felix the first time
he swears he has never felt such hate for another person
A boiling, searing, horrific dislike
The want for this guy to get his hands off your hips and get out of your life.
You were honestly confused at his behaviour
never have you seen your best friend so...angry or mean
scoffing whenever that asshole spoke, rolling his eyes and making pointed but passive aggressive remarks that he tried to play off as jokes
(They were anything but jokes)
it was so out of character for his usual soft and cheery self you were baffled, having no idea what was wrong with him
until Felix makes an odd remark about he's sure that this guy will never be able to make you feel good, "too prideful and selfish with a small-"
you pull him to the side, grabbing onto his arm so hard it leaves angry red marks
that he'll probably end up jerking off to later
you practically hiss at him, glaring at him as you tell him off
saying that you have no idea what’s going on with him but he needs to stop it.
That he's your boyfriend and you'd really love it if your best friend could support you
He swears he could’ve almost cried from that. From you defending that asshole, taking his side instead of Felix’s
The only reasonable explanation is that the guy is toxic, he’s manipulating you, he’s bad for you and no one else can see it except for Felix
It seems like he’s in a haze for the rest of the night.
Civil but not really there. Nodding along animatedly, not looking in his direction for the rest of the night
He would swear he was still in that haze when he pulled your 'boyfriend' to the side as he was about to leave, after you had just left out the door, Felix calling behind you that he just wanted to have a quick word with him
in a haze as he threatens him, telling him he needs to stay away from you or else
-or else what?
He’s still in his ‘haze’ still, two nights later when Felix finds out that he never did
You’re so confused when he doesn’t show up for your date. Never texts or calls you back. When you get told from another friend that he ended up moving away for some unnamed reason.
Felix calls you and when you don't pick up he gets nervous and decides to show up at your place
To find you crying and heartbroken over that fucker.
He never deserved you.
Felix knew that
But he comforts you still, he lets you cry on his shoulder
He buys you ice cream and take-out and puts on a movie for you to watch
He lets you lay against him until it's the middle of the night
the room is dark except for the glow of the tv screen, the light illuminating your face to him as you lace your fingers with his
"Felix?"
It feels so odd for you to call him that, and not Lixie or Fefe like you normally do
"Yeah?"
Even odder to hear you say it in such a serious tone.
"Can I do something?"
he looks at you and you look at him
his eyes are wide, cheeks dusted pink
before you lean in and press your lips against his stupidly pretty ones
and in the dark of midnight, with a horrendously stupid comedy movie you insisted watching playing in the back,
He lets you use him
He lets you take his virginity-it was always yours after all, along with his heart and his body and his soul
No matter how rough you are, he takes it all with a moan and a cry for more
Fefe lets you take everything out on him. Every dark desire, all your stress and all your pain poured into making him cry beneath you
And with you on top of him, calling him a good boy, telling him he’s so fucking good for you he melts
He breaks
He cries
He holds back his tongue and doesn’t let spill every little feeling he has for you, how long he’s waited for you, how much he wants you and needs you and adores you
How you’re everything to him.
And you kiss away his tears and he kisses away yours
For tonight he’s yours.
Yours, yours, yours,
No one else’s.
You make him feel things he didn’t know his body was capable of feeling
Playing with his nipples and his dick, licking over his skin with a moan like he's the best thing that you've ever tasted
And when he feels on the cusp of insanity he laces your fingers with his and bring you in for a soft kiss,
so unlike anything else that’s happened tonight
so unlike the rough, borderline cruel way that you fuck him
But in the eye of the storm there’s a kind of quiet
gentle and soft, your lips against his. He swears he can feel your heart beating through your hand.
It’s everything he wants to say, everything he can’t say poured into it
And then you pull away and he whines and you smirk.
He sees heaven and hell and stars behind his eyelids and decides that you’re more important than all of them. 
He sees the marks he leaves on your skin and the marks you leave on his in turn
He feels euphoria and bliss beyond what he thought was possible. Beyond any porn he’d watch and any times he’d touched himself to thoughts of you-he never thought feeling this good was possible
You tug his head back by his hair, slotting your face beside his to whisper in his ear.
“You’re fucking mine, do you hear me Lix? Mine.”
As if he's ever been anything else.
He always has been. He always will be.
“Yours, only yours.”
As if anyone else could have him now. As if you hadn’t ruined him for anyone else. No one could make him feel the way you did and he was not interested in even looking.
Yours.
He never wants to stop
Never wants to stop feeling like this
Feeling like he’s yours and only yours and you’re his and only his
If he could die in this moment, with you he would die a happy man.
He falls asleep in your arms, curled up into your chest
your bodies sweat-soaked and your tired pants filling the room 
you hold him and he swears he’s never been happier in his entire life.
With you.
The next morning you’ve left a note.
You went back home to stay with your parents for a bit and didn’t want to disturb him when you left, but he’s free to stay however long he wants, the keys are on the counter for him to lock up when he leaves
He wishes he could say that he only stayed for breakfast and a shower but that would be a lie
He doesn’t leave for a long time
Because he’s in your bed, surrounded by your scent, covered in your marks from the night before, only able to remember the things that happened between you two
And all of that makes him so hard
He buries his head into your pillow and tries to imagine-remember
He buries his head into your pillow and remembers everything you did to him. Every word he worships in his head, every touch he tries to replicate
Shame fills him as he humps your pillow, unable to stop himself.
As he digs through your dirty laundry, stealing dirty underwear that he uses to get off too
It’s not you, but it’s close enough
He spends way too long in your apartment, doing things that fill him with shame and guilt and desire
How could he not though? With his body still tingling from your touch. 
With his fingers still tracing over the marks you left on his body.
The marks that slowly fade throughout the day.
Marks that he wished he could ask you to replace.
And when you come back you act as if nothing happened. 
You act as if you haven’t touched every part of his body. 
As if you haven’t left marks all over him.
As if you know he isn’t completely and utterly obsessed with you.
As if you hadn’t made him promise to be yours.
But you never promised to be his.
It’s okay.
He’s okay with just being your best friend
With being the shoulder to cry on and the one you come home to after another guy that you liked suddenly doesn’t want to be around you
They’re all temporary. He’s here to stay.
He’s your Lixie, your Fefe
That’s all that matters.
He’ll be your best friend that’s around just a little too often,
That does just a little too much,
That warms your bed a little too many times to be just friends.
But you don’t wanna cross that line.
So it's okay.
As long as you're okay with the people you go out with disappearing after a short while
he may be complacent with the fact that you date someone else but he's not about to let them stay for long
And deep down you know what's going on
you aren't stupid, you don't miss the way he looks at the people you date, you didn't miss the mysterious red stain on his shirt after you got ghosted for the hundredth time
but when he lays in your lap, stretched out like a cat, looking so adorably harmless...
Does it really need to be addressed?
It's okay.
For you.
It's...okay.
For him.
He has something.
You have something.
Even if he really wants love. When he wants to be held and taken care of.
Wants to be told that you love him
Wants to be kissed on the forehead and told that he's the only one for you, that there's no one else.
No one else but him.
No matter that it's a lie and that you've told him all of that before.
Tumblr media
a/n: is this kinda shit? yeah but i have such bad writer's block rn and probably won't post for awhile after this so i just wanted to post this now, it's my birthday so i'm going home to spend time w family
i might end up doing a fluffier (if you could even call it that?) version if you guys want it
my taglist is here if you wanna be added: @hobihearteu, @lemonhongjoong, @laylasbunbunny, @xcookiemonsteerr, @arlojulien-nightchild-of-hades, @hahagay, @lino-jagiyaa, @missrobyn81, @maru-matt, @goblinracha (i think this is everyone that wanted to be tagged?)
1K notes · View notes
clockwayswrites · 10 months
Text
A Broken Sort of Normal Part 9
WC: 1431, Masterpost CW: blood, cannon typical violence, off screen civilian and first responder deaths, mentions of death
Danny and his Flash were both very busy people, there was no denying that. The good thing was that the worst of their busyness were the same events. Sure, they both had obligations outside of that. Danny had all of the other work with the outreach and now overseeing and even training other team members. Flash… well, Flash had whatever he did with the rest of his life. Danny assumed he worked, even if it was for the Justice League.
It was a little odd not knowing Flash past the mask. Danny understood, of course he did. A secret identity was important and, despite having been on several dates now, they still were getting to know each other. It wasn’t as if Danny didn’t know anything about his Flash. He knew Flash always comforted the kids first, was fiercely loyal, and couldn’t resist petting a dog. He knew Flash loved trying new foods, played video games with friends that Flash wished he saw more, and really did enjoy spoiling him. He knew a lot.
He just didn’t know Flash’s name or what family Flash had or if those freckles ran all the way across Flash’s nose.
Danny would be patient though, because he understood. It helped that he at least had Flash’s number. He didn’t know if it was a burner phone or an app or routed through a number of proxies; he hadn’t asked. The first thing Danny had done, in fact, was to send a Flash meme. It had gotten him shoved, but that had turned into a make out session on the couch, so Danny certainly wasn’t complaining.
And if Danny now kept a collection of gifs, memes, and other silly Flash things on hand to send? Well, who could blame him.
He rolled over to grab his phone from the coffee table and sent off another picture of a cat dressed up in Flash’s outfit. The amount of people dressing pets up as superheros was honestly shocking. He didn’t expect an answer right then, looking at the time, but he found it was… nice to be able to find things to send to Flash for him to find and respond to later. It made him feel connected to someone in a way that he hadn’t had in years.
Danny recognized, now, that he had been really hurting himself trying to stay so separate from everyone. One way or another, this is how things would be for the rest of his life. He couldn’t keep morning what had happened, what he had lost. Besides, he was just a civilian now, he wasn’t a danger to his friends and family anymore. So, along with Flash, Danny had started actually accepting the occasional invitation from some of his coworkers. He had even found a game store to go to and play at on the weekends.
It was harder than he thought, putting himself out there again, but his life was brighter for being around people outside of work every week or so. He had Flash to thank for that.
He also had Flash to thank for getting him addicted to the Percy Jackson books. He could personally do with less lightning, but the story had a real way of resonating with the halfa. Danny was three books in at this point and needed to know how it all finished up.
A few chapters further in a notification interrupted him.
Quick Boy: It’s not fair that a cat wears my uniform better than me!!
Danny laughed and tapped the message.
Danny: The cat is pretty cute. But I still think you wear it best. You have a better butt. 😏
The little dots wiggled as Flash typed. It was endlessly amusing to Danny that despite being, literally, super fast, Flash was slowed down by the physics of the world around him, like how fast a phone could accept input.
Quick Boy: 😳🫣🥵 Danny! Have you been checking out my butt?
Despite himself, Danny felt a blush heating up his cheeks. They hadn’t gotten any further than kissing, it didn’t feel right to go further when Danny didn’t know who Flash was, but that didn't mean Danny couldn't tease.
Danny: You run around in spandex, I can’t NOT check out your butt. Have to say, it’s a pretty good one. 10/10, would ogle again.
Quick Boy: How do you feel about ogling it in my most flattering sweatpants? Got a hold of that Japanese giant bug movie you were ranting about. I can grab food and be over to your place in about an hour?
Danny: Stop calling it that!!!You know the title! 😤
Quick Boy: I’m not typing out that title.
Danny grinned as he rolled off of the couch. If Flash was coming over, he should at least pick up a little. Danny knew Flash didn’t really care, but the pile of laundry that Danny had been avoiding folding was a bit much.
Danny: Thought you were supposed to be fast.
Quick Boy: 😒
Danny: Come on, quick boy, take the nanosecond and type it.
Quick Boy: I hate you.
Danny: No you don't~
(Danny sung along as he typed.)
Quick Boy: “Help I’ve Been Made a Holy Knight in a World of Giant Bugs and Need to Save the Prince”
Danny: Knew you could do it! Proud of you. 😘 See you in an hour! Bring Thai and ice cream!
Danny was just putting away the folded stack of laundry when an alarm on his phone screamed at him.
It was work.
Emergency alert.
All hands on deck.
Danny dashed for his door, shoving his feet in his work boots and grabbing the backup vest he kept at home. Someone would drive the trucks full of kits there, but Danny still took his little kit with him, just in case he ran into any wounded on the way.
So much for dinner and cuddling his boyfriend.
As soon as he stepped out onto the street, Danny could hear the sound of sirens and the acrid smell of smoke stung his eyes. Danny’s heart sank.
Whatever this was, it was big.
-
“Danny.”
Danny flexed his hands. Flakes of dried blood broke off and scattered in the wind.
“Danny, babe.”
He would need more gloves for his kit. Was he out? He had to be out. He changed gloves so many times. There were so many people. He had to be out of gloves. He would need more for his kit.
Other hands entered his vision, covered in bright red. Not blood red, bright red. Blood red was mostly darker than people thought. Bright blood was worse. He watched as the hands gently rolled down the gloves.
He needed more gloves.
“Not for today, babe. You’re done for today.”
He needed more gloves, there were so many people.
“Everyone is accounted for. You and the others got everyone.”
Not everyone.
How many people died under his hands today?
Were already dead when he found them?
Wouldn’t last the night?
How many people did he fail?
Too many.
“Danny.” The voice was worried now. “Come on babe, look at me, please?”
Blood had gotten under his gloves, staining his wrists.
“Babe, please.”
Warm, fabric covered hands rested on Danny’s cheeks, tilting his gaze up and away from his hands.
Oh. “Flash?”
“Hey there, babe, you with me?”
Why did he look so worried?
“Because you’re scaring me a little. I think you’re in shock.”
Oh.
“Do you have a shock blanket in your kit still?”
“No… used them all. Had to cover…”
How many people did he fail?
“Okay, that’s okay. I’m going to take you home, okay babe? Well, not my home, but where I used to live— right, that doesn’t matter now. We’re going to go and I’ll keep you safe.”
Danny motioned to a cluster of officials. “I have to—”
“I’ve already checked you out.”
“My team?”
Flash glanced down and away.
“Flash, my team?”
“They’re…. all accounted for. Larson…. He got caught in part of the building coming down. He didn’t make it. Patel was paired with him. She’s at the hospital, they think she’ll pull through.”
Danny tried to say something, but the words caught in his throat. He wanted to scream, to rage, to wail— it all caught up in his throat because he couldn’t. He let out a soundless sob.
Flash pulled Danny into his arms, holding him close. “I know. I know. I’m taking you home. You’ll be okay Danny. It will be okay.”
The colors of the world blurred together as Flash ran, but Danny hardly noticed.
-----
AN: So this has been 95% written since before I got sick, but just now was the first time I could get my brain to deal with it. A darker part of the story, I know, but it felt needed. Danny's doing a very, very hard job and one made all the worse because Danny used to be able to do more and now he can't. (Though I have no doubt he pushed use of his powers further than was really safe in this.)
Stay safe and delightful, my darlings!
I no longer tag people for several reasons, you can subscribe to the masterpost instead to be notified! (May notify this part slightly later, I am queuing it.)
689 notes · View notes
heartsforhavik · 5 months
Note
Hey can I request yandere x gn reader, you can choose the chatacter from mk1 please. Where the yandere is obviously obsessed, but in the 'i live you so much, you can do nothing wring, i would die for you' kind of way? They absolutely adore the reader and would do anything. The reader tell them to cook and clean and suddenly they are the perfect house-husband. No matter what
yandere reptile/syzoth x reader hcs
warnings: slight angst, toxic relationship, slight mentions of violence, obsessiveness, ooc syzoth, regular yandere tendencies yk
summary: just some hcs of yandere syzoth being absolutely down bad for (gender neutral) reader
a/n: anon… you literally read my mind we are the same person. i see you i hear you i feel you. anyways my inbox is full of yandere reqs, i’m very sorry to anyone who has had their request sitting in my inbox for a while, i will get to all of them eventually i promise!! also this was kinda sad oopsies
Tumblr media
after the loss of his family, syzoth thought there was nothing to live for anymore. sure, he became empress mileena's emissary, but he could be easily replaced. why should he continue to live if he doesn't have anything driving him to get up every morning?
every day he felt as if his life was just a cold, dark void. every day he'd hear empty, half-hearted apologies for his past. every day was the same, as he woke up every morning hoping for something new, something exciting, something to dig him out of the hole his life was in. but no matter how much he longed it would come, it never did. as if it never would.
at least that's what he thought, until he met you.
you were so kind... so helpful... so empathetic. you never hated him for being zaterran, you were so patient, and you were so understanding when you listened to his problems.
and then syzoth became completely attached to you. he saw you as an angel that saved him at the lowest point in his life. it's like he was searching for an answer for why he was still alive, and he was granted one. it was you.
he would do anything for you. you were the love of his life. the second you even call out his name, he's running up to you and asking if you need anything. you filled the empty void in the heart he forgot he had.
syzoth desperately wants you to like him as well. (he knows you probably won't ever love him the same way he loves you, but he can live with that.) he would always watch you carefully and any signs of your likes and dislikes are engraved in his brain. he would mold himself to embody what you desire, in hopes that he can be perfect for you, in hopes that he can gain your love and validation. even if he has to change many features of himself to win your heart forever, then so be it.
his loyalty to you will never falter, even if you do something terrible and unforgivable. he becomes entirely oblivious to any morally ambiguous actions you may commit. he firmly believes that whatever you do must be okay, so he goes along with it without a second thought, defending you from anyone who says otherwise. there are a lot of disgusting things that he would excuse if you were to do it. because you're his beloved, surely you can do no wrong?
sometimes he ends up feeling extremely conflicted with himself if you ever actually did anything unspeakable. because he thought it was wrong all his life, but you just did it. so it must be okay, right?
syzoth often gives you little gifts and trinkets that he randomly finds. if he sees something he think you would like, he would immediately grab it and present it to you like an offering. even though most of them are quite amusing, since he doesn't exactly know what makes something a good gift or not. but he believes it's the thought that counts, so he gives you anything he hopes would please you.
but sometimes, syzoth gets so desperate for your approval and attention, that he unintentionally gets himself hurt. but he doesn't mind. he would risk his life if it meant he got to see you smile at him.
he doesn't have a very clear image of his future with you. just as long as he gets to be with you. whether he does all the work, or he gets to live life right by your side as your equal, or even if he has must be behind you in your shadow. as long as you let him see you. as long as he can be there with you. but he would understand if you had a different view of your future together.
if you want syzoth to become a househusband, he'll learn to cook and clean for you. he may not be good at first, but he's trying. he'll try to find out how to make human food that you can enjoy. he'll practice cleaning until your living space is spotless and his arms fall off if he has to. if you want him to be the breadwinner, he'll take the role very seriously and he'll work as hard as he can so you can enjoy your life and he can come home to you every day. he doesn't care what he has to do. he'll do anything to please you.
syzoth knows better than to think that he is deserving of your love and kindness. the fact that you even let him be in the same vicinity as you is something that he is grateful for every day. even though he knows he isn't worthy of your affection, he still strives to gain it every day. at least a small glance in his direction would set his body on fire and make him feel complete bliss. however, he doesn't care about his feelings since you are still his first priority. so he understands if you wish to not even look at him. it would hurt him and he would sulk about it for a while, but he understands nonetheless.
when it comes to his competition, he does not consider murder. the thought appears in his head, but he ultimately knows that you probably would not be very pleased with him if he were to eliminate anyone pining for your affection in that manner. instead of doing anything about it, he simply becomes insecure. he would ask if you still loved him. he would plan to be even clingier than he usually is, and unintentionally guilt trip you into staying with him. he knows he looks pathetic, but if syzoth had to look like a fool in front of anyone, it would be you.
however, he knows he does not have any control over you. if you wished to get rid of him and move on to someone else, he would willingly accept it. but even though he accepts your judgement, he would end up doing something he can never come back from. so you probably should not leave him.
you became his whole reason for living. he believes he lives to please you. and he gains pleasure from *your* pleasure. if you ever think he is sick of catering to your needs and following you around like a lost puppy, he would be quite offended. he would instantly work towards making sure you never questioned his affections again. he doesn't get his feelings hurt often, but he just wants you to always feel secure in your relationship. so if you doubted him, he would just work harder to please you.
syzoth thinks you are the only thing left in the world that is pure. you are the only person that can truly make him happier than ever after all his pain. he almost became used to the tragedy and loss in his life as if it was his destiny. he was convinced there would no longer be happiness in his life. but you give him a reason to wake up every morning. you are all he thinks about in the afternoon. you are all he wants to see and embrace as he drifts to sleep at night.
he is glad he no longer has to have nightmares every night about all that he lost, and he instead dreams of you. he no longer has to be fearing his life every second of the day, instead he spends that time thinking of how to please you. syzoth loves you very much. he worships you. he appreciates you. no matter what. let him give you his heart, his soul, his body. he's all yours, and you may do whatever you want with him. he is at your service.
348 notes · View notes
freak-accident419 · 6 months
Text
File Room Confessions
Josh Futturman x GN!Reader
Tumblr media
Summary: You and Josh snoop into the employee records room to find more information about his biotic co-workers. However, one conversation leads to another.
Word Count: 1.5k
Content: fluff, gender-neutral reader (no pronouns used), ’pretty’ is used in a gender-neutral way (as it should), set in S01E05 “Justice Desserts” of Future Man—you may have to know more about the show to understand what’s going on, and you’re basically taking Jeri’s place in this scene. Enjoy :)
-
“See, there’s always at least one common denominator when it comes to sniffing out these Biotics,” you tell Josh as you point to Janis’s file. “Zero medical conditions. And zero allergies.” You took out Carl’s file and showed him those records as well.
You and Josh had snuck into the file room to look for any specifics of the Biotic employees that Wolf and Tiger had killed. Perhaps any patterns or connections that might help with your mission.
“You know, I still can’t believe that ‘pretty smile girl’—or, well, Janis—was a Biotic! She was really nice,” he sighed as he looked over her file.
You were sitting next to each other on the floor against the file cabinets with a bag of Cheetos in between you two and a box of employee records beside you as you looked through everyone’s files.
You scoffed at Josh’s claim. “Dude. You barely knew her,” you said as you grabbed another Cheeto to eat.
“Well, yeah, but I knew that she was ‘yogurt cup, banana peel, pretty smile girl’,” he replied in a pensive tone, which made you let out a soft giggle. “What?”
“Nothing, you’re just… You’re such a dork,” you said as you let out a chuckle under your breath. You looked at him for a while and he smiled at you, seemingly appreciating you. He was so inexplicably charming.
For a while, you had crushed on Josh. You weren’t sure why or what is was—he was just… admirable. Sure, he was a janitor who gave off total loser vibes as he still lived with his parents, playing video games 24/7, but ever since you got mixed up into this mess, you were able to get to know him better. He was caring, selfless, thoughtful, cute, and funny. Definitely very charming—almost charmingly dorky. He was a good guy. He was doing everything he could to make sure that Tiger and Wolf wouldn’t kill Kronish. He was probably the most genuine person you ever knew.
After a while, you two had—instead of trying to look for any important biotic information—made fun of people’s files. Especially Stu for having his emergency contact as 9-1-1, because nobody loves that asshole of a guy.
You chuckled softly and continued to look at the rest of the files until one caught your attention. You took it out and gasped, looking at it with wide eyes and an open mouth. “‘Joshua Sasha Futturman’?”
He realized you had found his file and sighed in defeat. “It’s—It’s my grandmother’s name. It’s sentimental. Please give me—”
He attempted to grab it from you, but you laughed and pushed his grabby hands away from you, continuing to scan his file. “Hey, back off, buddy, or else I’m gonna… rub some ‘tree nuts’ on you…? So you can get… ‘golf-ball size hives and welts?’” You giggle as you looked at his list of allergies.
He looked at you with playful annoyance, frowning as you tease him. “Alright, alright, I’m sorry… Joshua Sasha…” You giggle, making him roll his eyes.
“Come on! I… I have nothing against you, it’s not fair!” He complains as you hand him his own file. He grabbed it, but didn’t take his eyes off you. “Just… Tell me something that I can make fun of you for too.”
You looked at him with a raised eyebrow and scoffed. “Uh? Hell no,” you replied, with a slight chuckle. “You’ll use it against me, like, any time we argue! I am not compromising—”
“C’mon, Y/n, please? Just to even it out?” He requested, in which you couldn’t help but finally amuse him.
“Okay, okay. Fine,” you groaned as you rested your head back completely against the file cabinet. “What do you want to know?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. Like… Any allergies or—?”
“Nope, I am actually not allergic to anything,” you chuckle, smiling at him.
Josh grinned at you and joked, “Oh? So is it safe for me to assume that you’re a biotic?”
You laughed at that, shaking your head. “Oh, please. Aren’t they supposed to be these perfect, really good-looking super-people? Like, you really think I could pass off as that?”
He gave a friendly smile, turned his head as he decided in his mind, and finally said, “Hm, maybe, yeah. Like, you could actually convince me.” You raised an eyebrow in disbelief and he took notice of your reaction. “I’m serious!”
“No, no, enough, Josh. I get that you’re just being nice, but—”
“No, Y/n, I’m serious, believe me!” He exclaimed with authenticity. “You’re actually really attractive!”
You found yourself really flustered as you heard this, trying to hold back a smile. Was he being for real? “What? No, you’re… You’re just saying that, shut up, Josh,” you scoffed, still not believing him. “Besides, I thought you were trying to find something that you can make fun of me for?”
“Y/n, I swear to you, I am not kidding! Like, if I were Tiger, I’d probably straight-up assume that you’re a biotic! Because of how unbelievably hot you are!” He pleaded, trying to get you to believe him. “Come on! Tiger and Wolf, they literally call them ‘perfs,’ Y/n, short for ‘perfect.’ And you…”
This made your eyes widen. And you tried your best to detect any eye twitch or fake smile on his face to find out if he was lying, but it was clear he wasn’t. After all, he was the most genuine person you ever knew. He was being true to every word.
“Wh-really? You… You think I’m perfect?” You asked him in a breath of disbelief, and a smile slowly tugging at your lips.
“Well, yeah, I mean of course! You are so pretty! And it’s not just your looks, but… I mean… Who else would agree to go on this mission with me and those really, unnecessarily mean assholes? Like, you had a choice to just leave, but you wanted to help me because you were my friend. You knew the consequences, but you stayed by my side anyway,” he said tenderly, smiling at you with a specific softness that tugged at your heartstrings. “And not only that, but, you’re funny. You’re smart. Like, really smart. I don’t think we would’ve made it this far without your ideas. And you’re kind. Super kind! Every time those two insult me, you immediately back me up! And you’re just… perfect. Like, sometimes I think to myself if I even deserve you because you’re just so… good.”
You were speechless. You didn’t know what to say, you didn’t know this was how he felt about you. Everything he said had made you feel so appreciated and so admired.
Instead of saying anything, so overwhelmed with affection, you took one of your hands to cup his face and pressed your lips to his, softly, in an innocent, tender kiss, that he immediately returned. You felt him smile in the kiss as you felt his hand lightly hold the side of your waist, bringing you closer.
Your eyelashes fluttered as you slowly opened your eyes after pulling away from the kiss, and your faces were still close, the two of you slightly laughing and smiling at each other so very intimately.
“Josh, I… I like you. Like, a lot,” you felt giddy as you chuckled, looking into his eyes deep with admiration. “You’re just… You’re so sweet. And charming. And.. cute. And so thoughtful! And fuck everything that Wolf and Tiger say about you, because I think you’re perfect the way you are. If you’re not their savior, then you’re definitely mine. ‘Specially back at the meth lab,” you two laughed as you remembered the time he punched someone for you. “The point is… I’ve really enjoyed the past few days with you… No matter how crazy they’ve been. And I don’t mind spending more adventures with you. Wherever you’ll be, I’ll be by your side. Whether it be through time and/or space.”
Josh was also slightly taken aback because even though he had liked you as well, he didn’t expect that you’d like him back, no matter how obvious you made it. He just didn’t expect anyone in general would like him romantically because he was always just sort of a loser.
“I… I really like you too, Y/n. I mean, I probably made it really obvious already, but… I really like you too. And you seem to nearly never believe me, so I swear to you, genuinely, Y/n, that I like you. Like… like honest to god,” he said, grinning softly, and you two leaned in to share another kiss, one that was less hesitant and bolder than the first.
“We should, um… We should probably get going,” you suggest as you look at the mess of all the files with a soft laugh.
“Oh yeah. And, um, clean these up and everything,” Josh agreed looking at all the papers on the floor, then back at you.
You looked at him with a slight smirk in your smile. “We could… We could do one more,” you offered as your smile grew wider.
“One more?” He asked brightly.
“We’re here,” you pointed out.
“We could,” he raised an eyebrow and chuckled. “Let’s do it.” You grabbed another file to poke fun at one more employee for their personal info with Josh. Because really, anything else could wait.
317 notes · View notes
Text
Silly light headcanons because I really need them
I've been going through a very tough time and today I really need some fluff to distract myself. I hope you enjoy.
BEN teaches the older creeps that are bad with electronics how to play video games. They have creep family game nights, and the older creeps usually don't participate because they aren't as good, so BEN has been taking them aside and teaching them how to play so they can feel more confident in participating too. He never laughs or judges them for their skills, and he reminds them that the others would be happy if they participated too.
There's a game of tag that has been going on in the mansion for several years. They keep switching who the one person that's It is, but to the point that people will forget who is It. Jeff was once It for seven months, to the point nobody could remember, and he tagged Toby in the middle of dinner which caused absolute chaos. They can choose to tag someone immediately, or hold onto it and wait for a moment of surprise, but you can't tag someone who was just It on the same day, and you can't tag people when they're asleep or working. Everyone in the mansion has been It at least probably 10 times, but they keep it going because it's so amusing. Tim is currently It, and he's been It for three months. He wants to get Slender, but Slender knows this and has been careful to avoid physical contact with Tim. Tim is a patient man. He will win this.
When someone can't fall asleep due to nightmares or bad memories haunting them, they're allowed to go to Slender, and he'll play piano for them. He'll sit with them, and play whatever song they'd like so long as he knows it or can see the sheet music for it. Sometimes they'll sit there for hours, the creep leaning sleepily against Slender as he plays for them. He'll even make a delicious warm drink for them first if they request it or he feels they could benefit from it. Slender doesn't mind missing out on his own sleep, as he likes to put the residents first and foremost. When they're calmed down and drowsy enough he'll walk them back to their room, give them a hug and a pat on the head, and send them off to bed. He'll always stay awake a little while longer in case they come back to him.
Sally has started sneaking people candy. Lately, she's been using her allowance money on others, as she feels it's one of the few ways she can help out. If someone has been very down lately, she'll ask someone to run her into town, and she'll go to her favorite candy store and pick out the creep's favorite candy if she knows it, and a few things she thinks they'd like. Once home, she'll grab some stickers from her collection, and put the stickers and the candy in the creeps room for them to find later. She does this purely to try and give them a little something to brighten their days and doesn't need anything in return, although the creeps that receive these little gifts always return the favor and get something for Sally to repay her. Her gifts have often made a few of them quite emotional, and it makes them all feel quite special.
There is a shared mansion Minecraft world. They have a rule that you can't destroy things someone else builds which everyone respects, and it's become common for people to play together. Sometimes it's the whole mansion, sometimes it's just a group of them, but they all have a lot of fun exploring the world together. BEN has built the most and often volunteers to build cool houses for everyone. Jeff helps people with mining the most and if someone asks him to get a certain amount of things for them he's happy to do it. Toby and Sally are making a zoo together, collecting a bunch of animals, and making beautiful and nice places for the animals to live in. Some of the creeps play more than others, but they try at least once a month for everyone to play together, in the same room or on a call, and it always devolves into happy chaos as everyone plays in their own special ways.
256 notes · View notes