#just know I’m always lurking ready for more

[taktitty]

Andrew Minyard has cute aggression, pass it on

#andreil #the foxhole court #neil josten #andrew minyard #all for the game #my art #do I have a million other pieces of art in my drafts? yes #do I decide to post this sketch that took maybe an hour? also yes lmao #just know I’m always lurking ready for more #hey maybe I’ll even fully color this one day 🫡 #I just love these dweebs so much #a decade under their influence

[nuviastarsworld]

Hii I wanted to ask if you could make some headcanons for monster hyun su from s2. Smut heqdcanons too if you can. I can't wait to see what s3 has in store for us.

—Headcanons | Cha Hyun-su [2]

!!!; explicit content, s1 Hyun-su’s monster x reader, oral sex; male recieving, doggy style, I’m not really used to writing headcanons so this is written in a normal paragraph format, I’m not good at writing smut I did my best. If anyone I know irl finds this I’ll cry...anyways!!! Enjoy :) make sure to leave comments so ik ur thoughts <33

Imagine Hyun-su’s monster finding a particular type of interest in you.

When you and Hyun-su first met, he was infected, but that didn’t bother you, not in the slightest. When you got together, his monster side was showing up more and more often, to the point you got used to it.

His monster side came from his deepest desires, and one of his greatest ones was you. Whenever Hyun was close to you, his monster would tend to overreact, talking and whispering things about you in Hyun’s head all the time.

Hyun’s monster would show up at random moments, like when you and Hyun are having talks together. The monster would intrude and give aimless comments, as if trying to communicate with you, you’d normally just ignore his monster, or just to be comedic even talk back to Hyun’s monster as if you were friends. Not acknowledging that the more you did this, it encouraged his monster to lurk around you more and more.

It was even to the point were during your quiet times, like cuddling in the quarantine room, And Hyun would have a hold around you, his monster would pop up, then Hyun’s hold would tighten, squeezing you. Not tight enough to hurt you, but tight enough to make sure you couldn’t get out. Like it didn’t want you to leave.

Hyun su would obviously be worried about this. His monster side was trying to get too close to his girlfriend. Of course he’d be worried. As far as he knew his monster side was dangerous, but you’d always reassure him that you were fine, you wouldn’t admit that it was quite entertaining, and that a tiny part of you enjoyed the monster’s company.

You were fully aware that Hyun’s monster would never hurt you. So you weren’t worried in the slightest.

At times, When You and Hyun were alone in the quarantine room, things turn quite hot and heavy between you two. You’d be straddling Hyunsu on his lap on the couch, the two of you share a kiss that soon turns more passionate as seconds pass.

Hyun-su would normally keep his hands to himself until you say otherwise, but this time you feel his hands move around your body. From your hips to your back, squeezing and kneading your sensitive skin, putting his hands under your shirt.

You weren’t uncomfortable, just surprised, Hyun-su wasn’t this assertive when you two were alone. It took you enough time to realise it wasn’t Hyun, but his monster and by then it was already too late. You were on your knees Infront of Hyun su, but it wasn’t really Hyun-su. His pants down and his cock out. Ready for you to take in your mouth.

Hyun-su’s monster was definitely as needy as regular Hyun-su, if not even more. For anytime you’d slow down your pace, he’d whine and complain for you to go faster or harder.

His Monster side is also a head/hair grabber, especially if you’re wearing a ponytail. He likes to grab your head to make you suck him faster. Your hair just because.

He definitely likes to choke you sometimes, not to hurt you but to hear the sweet groans that come out of you when you do.

His monster side also enjoys cumming either on your face or in your mouth. Either way he likes it messy.

He also praises you when he feels as if your doing so well. Especially when he’s face fucking you and you try not to gag on his dick. He’d let out phrases like, ‘you’re such a good girl taking me so well’

Eventually it will end up with you arched on the couch, him ramming into you from behind, each thrust making a clapping sound as the skin collided, you moaning and crying at the same time because the pleasure is too much to take.

He holds your hips in place with both hands tightly, and he goes at a medium pace at first, but quickens at your request, he too is finding pleasure as you squeeze around his length and is reaching his high as minutes pass.

He would definitely comment about making you a mother...

When he’s about to come he’d pull out and release on your back, holding you upright as he pumps his load.

And after all this, Hyun’s monster would leave you exhausted and tired, putting you to sleep after, then Hyun’s eyes would fade away into their normal appearance, and he’d find his girlfriend naked underneath him on the couch, taking a short nap. He’d be so confused.

#nuvia narrates… #kdramas #kdrama imagine #kdrama imagines #sweet home #sweet home kdrama #sweet home x reader #cha hyun su #cha hyunsu #cha hyunsoo x reader #cha hyun su imagine #cha hyun su x reader #cha hyun soo #cha hyun su x femreader #cha hyunsu smut #hyunsu smut #smut headcanons #am I considered a monster fucker now... #if any of my irl friends find this.. #if u know me irl no u dont

[literaila]

hey v ! what about peter and reader getting ready to go somewhere and after reader puts on some red lipstick peter can't stop kissing her ?

lipstick

warnings: ugh, peter

*

“how many times have you done that?”

peter is standing behind you, leaning against the wall, probably ruining your focus, or your makeup, or your sanity. he’s probably staring just to mess with you.

you refrain from smiling in the mirror. wipe a smudge with your nail. “i don’t know, peter,” you meet his eyes, and his nefarious smirk. “how many times have you watched me do it?”

“i got lost somewhere around the first time.”

you laugh at him, crumbling the napkin you’ve been using, now filled with kiss marks, and turning it around so you can throw it at peter. “are you sick?” you ask him.

instead of answering, he licks his lip and unfolds the napkin, staring at the red marks, creases and tireless efforts arranged in a messy pattern. “this is like art.”

“why are you acting like you’ve never seen anyone wear lipstick before?”

“what?” he asks, hand to his chest. “i cant watch you get ready? i’m banned from being in the bathroom when you are?”

“yes, and yes.”

it does not escape your notice when peter tucks the napkin into his pocket for safekeeping.

he shrugs. “i don’t mind breaking the rules.”

you scoff at him and pat his shoulder as you walk past him through the doorway. “i would’ve locked you out if i knew you were going to be weird about it.”

“weird? how am i being weird?”

“you were lurking. you’re still lurking.”

“i’m talking to my girlfriend. that’s part of our contract.”

“you’re following me.”

peter smiles. “well, i like you.”

you roll your eyes, almost—almost—smiling when you feel his arms wrap around your waist. “please don’t make me argue about your stalker like tendencies.”

“we don’t have to argue,” peter says, kissing the space beneath your ear. his breath is hot.

“i need to put my shoes on, peter.”

he smiles, his teeth clashing against your skin like a dreadful reminder. some type of jumpscare—minus the fact that you merely lean into him, sans jumping. “we can spare fifteen minutes.”

“how can you be thinking about anything besides the fact that we’re already late to meet may?”

he nibbles on the skin by your collarbone, then licks it, as reprieve. “it must be the lipstick.”

“you’ve literally seen me with lipstick before. i wore some on our first date.”

“‘s probably why i like it so much.”

his lips are needy as they crawl around your skin. his hands are stationary, but they pose their own threat as they lurk.

“peter, we have to go.”

“i’m not known for my punctuality,” he spins you around, his lips curled in mischief, “you know.”

“i’m aware.”

you refuse to indulge him. your brows furrow, your hands held in the air—just so you can avoid accidentally touching him. purposefully.

“then why are you so worried?” peter asks, kissing your cheek.

“i’m not kissing you,” you say, instead of answering.

“you’re not?” peter pouts like a child. he is far too grown.

“no.”

“how come?”

you try to pull away from him, but, shockingly, peter is stronger than you are. your will is weak. “you’re going to smudge my lipstick. i just finished.”

“you have more, don’t you?”

“not the point.”

“what?” he asks, his voice so serious and teasing. “you don’t want to kiss me?”

“no, i do not.”

you look away from him, admiring a wall that has always been there.

“are you sure?” peter asks, ducking so he can catch your eyes again, because he is nothing if not cruel.

you break, pouting. “peter,” you whine, “we’re not going to be late again.”

“i think we are.”

“you can kiss me when we get home later,” you promise, trying again to wiggle out of his grasp.

“that is a terrible compromise.”

“you won’t compromise,” you snap back. “what else am i supposed to do?”

peter grins, tilting his head. “okay. i have an idea. how about i kiss you, and then we leave? you don’t even have to kiss back, even though we’d both prefer it that way.”

“i’ll kiss you,” you mock him. “you’re the worst negotiator i’ve ever met.”

“then how come we haven’t left yet?”

you scowl at him, and he scowls back, but his eyes are alight.

your skin is ravenous with an ache to touch him, he’s so close that kissing him would be nothing—merely breathing, really—but you don’t want to lose this game to peter. and you dont want him to stop looking at you.

he pretends to check a watch. “hmm, it’s getting awfully late.”

“are you british all of the sudden?”

peter grins, biting his lip before he tries to bite you. you lean away. “if you like my accent, all you have to do is say so.”

“i like it when you get out of my way, and stop trying to sabotage me. i like that a lot.”

“no clue what you mean, dear.”

you roll your eyes and manage to cross your arms in his hold.

“i wonder how we could solve this,” peter muses, tapping his finger on your waist. “it’s a big problem.”

“i could leave you behind and have lunch with may myself.”

“that’s one option.”

you roll your eyes again.

“i was thinking something else, though,” peter says, and he’s closer now, but you’re sure that you never saw him move. “something more… proactive.”

“shove it, peter.”

“you don’t even want to hear it?”

you sigh, leaning your chest into him, out of pure delusion. “fine. what?”

peter smiles at you, eyes catching eyes.

the look on his face is soft, delirious. he’s got that look in his eyes, and that smile on his face, and he’s still staring at you like he’s mesmerized by whatever you’re doing.

“what?” you repeat, but softly, like you can’t find your voice in the chest cavity peters taken hold of.

“kiss me,” he says, softly, and it’s really not your fault that his lips are already brushing yours.

and it’s not your fault when you lean in, sighing in relief at the mere feel of him.

you’re almost breathless, from the tiniest of kisses.

but then you kiss peter again, and again, and your hands finally wrap around him—keeping hold of something real in this fake reality—and your voice isn’t your own when you groan at peter for making you do this.

you have evacuated your body. you have lost common sense.

but it doesn’t matter, because kissing peter has always made you forget all of that.

and it still does, when he pulls back, grinning like he’s won. “see?” he says, voice ragged. “it was simple.”

“we’re going to be late and it’s your fault.”

peter laughs, kissing you again, staring at your red lips. “gladly. i’ll take all the blame.”

“and you’re making it up to me later.”

“whatever you say,” he murmurs, thumb brushing your bottom lip.

he releases you and watches as you finally put on your shoes.

you don’t think it necessary to mention the red marks on his lips. it’s not like it’s your fault they’re there.

*

#ask #tasm peter x reader #andrew!spiderman #the amazing spider-man #peter parker #peter parker x reader #andrew garfield!peter parker x reader #tasm peter parker #spider-man #the amazing spider man #tasm!peter smut #tasm smut #tasm #tasm!peter x you #tasm spiderman #tasm!peter x reader #tasm 2 #tasmania #tasm!peter imagine #tasm fanfiction #tasm!peter x y/n #tasm!peter fluff

[epigstolary]

Rebound

It has to hurt to see what you look like now. All the shapeless mounds of fat weighing you down, distorting what was, until fairly recently, an average figure. You were so close to getting back to a normal weight, too — years of struggling to come down from a size at which you couldn’t lumber more than a few feet before getting red-faced and breaking out in a sweat. And you did it; somehow, you got yourself small enough to be able to shop in regular clothing stores again, and to not even need to buy their biggest sizes. Everyone was so proud of you. Telling you how good you looked. How much healthier it was to be this size. How much happier you had to be, now that you could move around and be active again. You’d beaten obesity.

Except you hadn’t, had you? Because every diet fails eventually, and fat doesn’t go away. Fat cells shrink when you diet. They quiet down when you restrain your appetite. And then they wait, lurking in that slender body, disguised by loose skin. Waiting for their moment to come back with a vengeance.

You may not even remember what triggered it now — maybe it was a really rough couple of days at work, maybe a relationship disappointment, maybe drama with family or friends. But something made you take two cheat days in a row, just to treat yourself a little and make up for everything crappy you’d had to deal with lately. And that was all it took to wake the monster sleeping inside you.

A couple of cheat days turned into having snacks around that you hadn’t allowed yourself since you started losing weight — because you had things under control, right? Portion sizes started creeping upward again, and fattier, carbier foods started replacing the lean meats and fresh veggies that helped you shed the pounds in the first place — because you lost it before, so you can lose it again if you need to, right? You went easier on yourself, skipping morning walks and trips to the gym with increasing frequency, giving yourself fewer and fewer opportunities to burn all the excess calories you’d started dumping down your throat again — because you were always going to make up for the missed sessions at some point, right? At least, those were the ways you rationalized your backsliding to yourself.

You probably didn’t know this before, but regains are a bitch. Your body’s felt you starving for years — that’s all a diet is, as far as it’s concerned — and now the famine’s over. Food’s abundant again. Time to eat and try to get you ready for the next famine, which it has no way of knowing is never coming, unfortunately for you. Every calorie it can spare from keeping you alive gets absorbed into those fat cells that used to be dormant. The weight packs on faster than it ever went away. And almost before you realize it, your puffy belly is back, your ass is filling up more of your pants, and your thunder thighs and double chin are beginning to make their appearance.

I’m sure you tried to get things back under control once you realized what was happening. You tried to get back out there and exercise again once your girth started popping buttons and tearing the seat out of pants, and you had to pull your fat clothes out of storage. You tried to eat better and ignore the cravings for everything high in fat and sugar and everything bad for you when your love handles and bingo wings and thunder thighs started rubbing against chair arms and door frames in a way they hadn’t for a long time. And then, once all of that had failed, you tried to simply ignore what was happening — to pay no attention to how your body was ballooning up to fill even your fat clothes; how difficult it was to heave your hanging belly and plump ass up and haul it wherever you needed to go; how the face in the mirror wasn’t the thin, lean, angular one you’d gotten used to seeing, but the bloated, pinched, bulbous fat face set atop a cascade of double chins that you thought you’d never have to look at again. Just muddle through, you must have thought, and eventually you’ll get a handle on this.

How’d all that work out for you? Not great, judging by the way you look now. Those legs that look like pinched sacks of custard, almost too blobby and bulky to move, don’t exactly signal someone in control of their situation. Neither does the enormous, wobbling belly spreading out over your knee folds and across the bed, or the hips bulging out at either side like melting lumps of dough overflowing a mold. And the double chins, resting on two massive boobs each the size of a fat belly in their own right, squeezed by the fat of pillowy arms plopped uselessly at either side — well, all that hardly looks like someone keeping their weight in check with responsible diet and exercise. I’m gonna guess you’re not, are you?

That’s why you had to call me in. Trust me, I see people just like you all the time. Weight’s bounced around for years, they’ve tried to diet and exercise, sometimes it’s worked for a while; but eventually, it spirals out of control. Like this. Really, you probably would have been better off if you’d just accepted being sort of fat. Beats wrecking your metabolism with a crash diet and dealing with the rebound effect — getting really, really fat like this. And now you need someone to help with all the things that you’re much too big, much too heavy to do.

I’m also supposed to help you manage your diet, get some physical activity, see if we can keep what mobility you have and try to recover more. But… that’s not really my style. See, I’ve also been around enough people like you to know that there’s no real way of coming back from this. Sure, I could probably get you to lose some weight, get you down to a size where you can wedge your flab behind the wheel of a car or cram it into the seat of a mobility scooter, get you back into the world for a while. But we both know you can’t stick to that, don’t we? The same habits that got you into this situation to begin with are going to blow you right back up into the same helpless fatty again eventually, aren’t they? Matter of time. And just imagine what a second rebound like this one would do to you! You’re already most of the way to a half-ton; another yo-yo, and you’re down for the count, immobilized probably forever under more fat than even the two of us can hope to handle.

I’d hate to see that happen to you; no lie, I really would. So I’ll make you a deal. You give up on trying to slim down to a normal weight, and you accept that you’re going to be a housebound blob from here on out. Forget about the diet and exercises, and make your peace with filling out most of a king bed by yourself. Do all that, let me take the wheel, and I’ll make sure you have everything you might need — and I do mean everything. I think you’ll find it a lot more comfortable that way.

I take it that’s a no? Listen, there’s no need to be personally insulting. Remember, I’m not the one who fattened you up like a prize pig, too big to reach the bottom of your belly, too fat to move without totally exhausting yourself — that was all you. So fine; we’ll do it your way. Get you losing weight for a while. But remember how easy it is to gain weight back on the rebound. And remember who’s really controlling your diet and your activity. Don’t say I didn’t warn you when your belly’s down to your feet, your arms are too bloated to move, and you’re smothered under half a ton of lard.

Remember — regains are a bitch.

#feeder fiction #gainerfiction #ssbhm #weight gain fiction #wg fiction #extreme weight gain #wg story #gainer stories

[imaginesheaven]

Lonely Water (GN!Reader x TF141)

Lonely Water

GN!Reader x TF 141 (platonic)

Summary: You crash into the ocean with a helicopter during a mission. Waiting for your hopefully on time rescue you relive some of your favorite memories of your team. Kind of inspired by the song “Hold Back The River” by James Bay.

Callsign: Phoenix

Length: Around 2.3k words

Warnings: Swearing as always, angst, mentions of injuries, drowning

“Mayday! Eagle 3 is coming down in the middle of the ocean. The pilot is dead and I have no fucking clue how to fly this thing! … Oh, fucking hell…”

There is nothing but darkness around you. The mysterious but dark night sky with thousand shining stars above you and the deadly ocean lurking beneath you. The water is just waiting for you to lose the last of your endurance so you can sink into its cold embrace.

“I’m stronger than you think”, you hiss at the tiny waves of dark ocean water, but you are actually not sure how much longer you will survive. The cold of the sea comes creeping in what feels for hours now. It made itself a home in your bones so deeply freezing that your lips have turned already blue. The feeling in your arms and legs starts to fade just like your will of survival.

The helicopter sunk within minutes after the horrific crash into the water. There was literally nothing left to cling onto. You wouldn’t be Jack clinging for dear life onto a wooden door, while your true love stays safely above the freezing water.

The thought of the Titanic brings a weak smile onto your lips. At least you still got your humor with you to keep you company.

Darkness fills your mind with the sinking dread that your team probably wouldn’t be fast enough to rescue from this death trap. Your form floats on the water like a dead man hoping to delay the bitter end for just another few minutes.

The exhaustion slowly takes over as your eyes flutter shut desperate for a moment of rest. Cold water comes rushing over your face since the ocean was waiting for its chance to drown you in its embrace. The water is merciless. Adrenaline rushes through your vein bringing back your will to fight. You swim with weak strokes back to the surface. How much longer can you keep up against the sea?

“Oi! Not so fast, Phoenix!”, a familiar voice behind you yells out. The dirt beneath your shoes crunches as you jog through a patch of trees. Wait, a minute. The water surrounding you has vanished? This can’t be real, right? It hast to be a memory.

“Too bad you are so slow, Soap. You could easily catch up with me if you would work out a bit more”, you reply to the familiar voice behind you. Soap stares at you speechless for a second before he speeds up to catch you. Laughing you send him a wink and even put more speed on to outrun him more than easily.

Soap grunts with exhaustion ready to bring you down with him. He jumps forward his arms stretched out. This man is an open book for you for years now. Still grinning you make a step to the side completely out of his reach. Soap falls to the ground without you.

Absolutely pumped you start your little victory dance knowing exactly that in the distance Price, Gaz and Ghost are watching the two of you with binoculars. “That was quite a fall Soap took there”, the Captain comments the downfall of the poor Scott, “Pay up, Gaz.” The young soldier lets out a groan but always pays his bet debts.

“Phoenix could outrun us all, Gaz, never think otherwise”, no matter how often Ghost sees you running he is always mesmerized by your endurance.

“How can you be so damn fast?”, Soap can’t believe he lost once again. You give him a half shrug with your shoulder, “I imagine Death chasing me and what do we say to Death?”

“Not today”, you whisper smiling. The thought of your teammates brings you pure joy despite the fact you are probably going to drown. The only family you ever had and ever needed. For a second you close your eyes hoping to see more memories.

“So, your callsign is Phoenix. What’s the story behind it?”, Gaz asks you with a bright smile on his lips. Sometimes he reminds you of a little boy in a candy store. You can’t believe how much happiness his happiness can bring you.

“Well…”, you start your not so exciting story, but Soap interrupts you immediately: “Phoenix survived a car crash with a big explosion and came back out of its ashes like a Phoenix. Tada! The callsign was born!”

The silence in the room is deafening before you burst out with laughter, “What the hell, Soap?! No, that’s not what happened!” Everyone except Gaz gets a good laugh from this story. He looks so terribly confused and kind of intimidated at the same time.

“Poor Gaz is probably traumatized for the rest of his life. I like to burn things and someone else already had the fucking callsign Pyro so I had to improvise”, you explain him the situation with a few words. The young soldier rolls his eyes. Still a tiny smile on his lips can be seen.

“Have you any idea how hard it was to get Phoenix and Soap as both demolition freaks on the team? Explosions. Fires. Laswell was not happy at all”, Price recalls his quite one-sided conversation with her. The only thing she said was “NO!” over and over again. Well, she also said “FUCKING HELL FOR SURE NOT!” once. But Captain Price gets what he wants in the end.

A tiny tear rolls down your face, but you can’t feel anything anymore. The cold crept into every single fiber of your body.  In the end it doesn’t matter anyway. You are still surrounded by water so what matters a single tear escaping? It’s the only one. Way too tired you can’t share more than that tiny tear with the ocean.

“Are you fucking serious? You could have died!”, you hiss angrily at Ghost as you patch the bullet wound in his side up. The tough soldier keeps quiet letting you work. “It’s like I’m talking to a brick wall without a single thought behind those eyes. Except for sacrificing himself for someone else”, you keep going with your monologue. No one dares to speak like that to him. Except you. It’s always you.

Ghost can’t see how your hands are shaking. How the fear takes over your already worry-ridden mind. How you blame yourself for not being fast enough in the end. You could have prevented this from happening.

But Simon knows you better than you yourself sometimes, “Not for anyone. Only for you, Phoenix. I’m sorry, but please stop worrying. Stop blaming yourself. In the end it was my decision. That’s what we do for each other. Keeping each other safe, right?”

Not answering you put away the first med kit finally done with patching him up. Ghost isn’t the one with the soft side, but with you it is so easy to feel safe for once. You stand up hoping to run from this conversation. His hand stops you dead in your tracks as he grabs your wrist, “Right?”

A slight smile appears on your lips still not turning around to face him, “Of course… but you are still a brick wall.” Simon can’t help himself but smile too behind his mask.

What have you done? If Simon would be here with you, he would hold this whole conversation against you. It’s the same reason that has brought you into the middle of the ocean. You wanted to keep them safe. Your team. Your family.

The helicopter was loaded with explosive meant to kill. Bombs. Soap’s favorite. There was no time to defuse them. You had not a single second to think about it. Just enough time to act on impulse. What a great idea to bring the helicopter down over the ocean far away to hurt someone else. But what about you?

“No, you are not stronger than me, Gaz”, Soap puts down the money for his bet. There is never a dull moment with those clowns. A tiny smile appears on your lips as you nurse your lonely drink in your hand.

“What’s so funny?”, Price notices your rather happy facial expression. “Nothing, just happy to be alive”, you reply simply. The Captain doesn’t need an explanation what you mean exactly. He just knows. You don’t need to elaborate how they give you a feeling of being home. How they are like the family you never had before in your life. They are everything you need to be happy.

But now it is time to let go.

Tired you keep your eyes closed as the cold water pulls you down into its embrace. You are not scared anymore to give up this time. Only gratefulness and happiness are present in your heart and mind. The joy you experienced is more than enough for a whole lifetime.

For the last time you open your eyes to see the darkness around you. It was the only friend you had the last few hours. The tiny waves trying to lull you into a memories-filled sleep. The cold making it easier to let go. You have been tired for so long already. Tiny air bubbles escape and leave you behind.

The darkness lurks beneath you, but above the water surface shines a strange light. Is that the beacon of hope you were looking for the whole time? There are voices too, but you can’t understand what they are yelling. You are sinking further and further. Far away from the light.

Above the lonely water your team is looking for you desperately.

The thought sends a surge of energy through your body. As hard as you can you wave your arms and legs completely uncoordinated. Still the movement brings you closer to the surface. You can’t give up now. Not so close to them.

Your whole body is numb and hurts at the same time terribly. The ocean gives its best to keep you to itself. The cold clouds your mind. Are you paddling into the right direction? Are you going further down?

Then your arm breaks through the surface. But that’s all you had left in you.

Something grabs your hand so tight you almost screamed out loud because of the pain. Your head is still underwater. There is another tightness in your lungs screaming for just a tiny bit of fresh air.

Slowly you get dragged out of the darkness. Leaving the ocean behind. You take a gasping breath. The world outside the water is so overwhelming. The lights blind you for a moment. The loud noises roar in your ears. Pure chaos. For a moment you miss the calming darkness of the ocean.

A slight smile would appear on your lips as you see the faces of your teammates, but that’s too much for now. Gaz and Soap have their hands tightly on your arms, while Price and Ghost try to heave you into the helicopter by your tactical vest. All your gear got extremely heavy soaked with ocean water to the brim. You wish you could help them out, but you reached your limit of energy a long time ago. They lower you to the ground finally freed of the water.

“We got Phoenix. Go, Nik”, Price gives his order to Nicolai. Your favorite Russian pilot. Ghost and Soap try to get rid of your tactical vest together. Gaz stands ready with a blanket to warm you up. They keep talking to you, but you can’t quite follow their words. Your mind still frozen in place.

“Hey, hey. You broken?”, John puts his hand on your ice-cold cheek to get your attention. This time you can manage a weak smile, “Define broken, Captain.” He lets out a deep sigh full of worry but more than happy to hear your voice once again.

“Don’t ever do this again, muppet. You were out there the whole night. We- … We literally thought you were gone. Want to sit up?”, Price grabs your shoulder softly too scared to hurt you after what you went through. Ghost on the other side helps you too to sit up.

The sun starts to rise on the horizon bringing another day to this earth. Another day you are able to see. Another day to be alive.

“You damn lucky bastard. The endurance from your jogging probably saved your ass out there”, Simon can’t believe he gets another chance to see you again. It breaks his heart to see you beaten up and weak like this, but you are alive.

“What do we say to Death?”, Soap asks you grinning like always. “Not today”, you reply enjoying the little inside joke the two of you have.

Price puts his leg behind your back so you can relax yourself against him. Ghost rests his hand on your shoulder letting himself feel grateful to have you back. Soap sits next to you. Shoulder against shoulder. Just like out in the battlefield. Gaz holds one of your hands in his to get them back to normal temperature.

Your little family.

Lonely Water

Let us hold each other

#call of duty #cod imagine #cod #soap x reader #gaz x reader #ghost x reader #price x reader #cod x reader #mw x reader #friendship headcanons #platonic plot #gn!reader #simon riley x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #gender neutral post #john mactavish x reader #john price x reader #captain price #mw2 #simon riley #john price #kyle garrick #john mactavish #cod one shot #reader insert #mw headcanons

[neowinestainedress]

wait for me | lee jeno

title: wait for me

pairing: lee jeno x fem!reader

genre: smut

warnings: smut, unprotected sex, oral (m and f receiving), facef*cking, praise kink, minor degradation (more like teasing), (consensual) filming for one scene, pet names (princess, baby/babe, honey, good girl, silly girl, etc), mentions of p*rn, loss of virginity (it’s a social construct but you get the point), soft dom!jeno, innocent!reader, romantic but rough at times, a bit of aftercare

summary: jeno keeps his promise of turning you into a mess under him

wc: 6.195k

a/n: I take my time with things, but if I promise something, I will do it, so here’s a gift for my precious @everloving-avenue ♡ it took almost a year but the sequel to this drabble is here! you don’t have to read the first part to understand. the style is a bit different from the drabble because I do write in a different way, so I don’t know how it will flow if you read one right after the other, but I hope you’ll enjoy it anyway. I missed writing just good old smut with no plot. Same thing as the original drabble; I don’t think I’m the best when it comes to writing first times, so I hope this doesn’t suck completely. ps: missed writing about Jeno ♡

general taglist: @froggyforyoongi, @wingsss45, @tddyhyck | send an ask if you want to be added (i hope i didn't forget anyone cause i didn't use a tag, but from now on i will so i'll have everyone in the same place)

“Can you take it all, pretty girl?” Jeno never looked more intimidating than he does now, looking down at you while you’re on your knees, trying to keep your gaze locked in his and don’t divert it, too embarrassed and distracted by his big, hard dick standing so close to your face. 

You gulp, humming lowly and moving closer to the head of his cock, your lips brushing against it, making him laugh tenderly. 

“We can wait if you’re not ready,” he says, the husky tone of his voice sends shivers down your back, and even if he has been nothing but nice and respectful to you, your brain can only focus on the sexiness of it. 

“No, I...” you hesitate, lowering your head as you suddenly feel shy, “… I don’t know what to do.” Since you called him that night, you had been more daring, but Jeno always focused on you, and the bravest thing you’ve done to him was a handjob. This feels like such a big step, and you’re terrified you’ll let him down, no matter how much he has been reassuring you. 

A smile curls his lips, but it’s more of a grin as he bends over and lifts your chin up. “I’m here to teach you, am I right?” 

You feel your throat close for a moment as you bravely meet his eyes, you can see he’s holding back, and that makes a fire ignite in you. You’d even let him be rough with you — at least that’s what you saw while lurking on… those sites — but you don’t feel like pushing your luck. So you nod, swinging your ass on your heels as your knees rub against the carpet to move closer to him again. 

“Good girl,” he coos, kissing you quickly before standing up like before. “Open up,” Jeno orders, this time holding the base of his dick as he prods the tip against your lips. 

You do as he says, tongue coming out of your mouth as you try to remember what you saw in a few videos. 

Jeno smiles, teasing his length on it, watching as you try so hard to don’t look away. He thinks you’re really cute, really fucking cute, to be honest. There’s a bit of fear and a lot of eagerness in your eyes, and after months, he can’t hold back anymore. His free hand reaches for your cheek as he slowly starts pushing in, whispering to you to be careful to don’t bite and keep your mouth wide open, until he’s halfway in. 

You flinch, eyes squeezing as you feel the flow of air already dim in your lungs, hands immediately finding his thighs to hold onto something. 

Jeno snickers, pulling out and shaking his head. “Silly girl, you have to breathe, that’s like the most important part.” 

You feel like he’s testing the ground, being bolder in the way he talks to you during these moments, and you have no idea why, but you find it hotter than you imagined you ever would. Your thighs clench as you feel your pussy throb just at the way he had called you a silly girl. 

“Through your nose, darling. You got it?” Something about the way he’s so condescending makes you dizzy and answer him right away, eyes fluttering as you nod and part your lips again, this time not set for failure. 

He pushes into your mouth again, it’s slow and he grunts as he slides in, feeling your warm, wet mouth wrap around him. 

You gag on it when the tip reaches the back of your throat, but Jeno’s ready to calm you down. 

“Breathe deeply, babe,” he says, voice dropped by an octave as his thumb caresses the portion of your skin between your jaw and neck. “You’re being such a good girl for me.” 

Your toes curl at his words, and you feel a heavy weight being lifted from your back. Jeno feels it in the way your throat relaxes and how your cheeks suck him in. 

If only he didn’t wait so long, he would stay still for a bit more, but now that he has you like this, he can’t control himself. “Can you suck?” He asks, voice shaking. 

“I guess,” you mumble before pulling away to take a deep breath. “You want me to move on it?” 

“Yeah,” he hums. “I fear I won’t be so gentle if I do all the job.” 

You quirk a brow, tilting your head as you stare at him. “What do you mean?” 

He shakes his head. “Nothing. Just remember what I said, breathe through your nose, and you’ll be fine.” 

You’re not happy with the way he dismissed your question, but you ignore it anyway, taking his cock in your mouth another time. You close your eyes to concentrate more and you start to suck, bobbing your head slowly at first, until you find a rhythm he seems to like, and it’s not too much for you. 

It feels weird, yet, every time you feel like you’re doing something wrong — like when the lewd sounds of your mouth get louder when it hits too deep, or when your nails sink in his thighs hard, or when spit drools from your chin — Jeno only moans louder and the hold of his hand in your hair tightens. 

“Good girl,” he praises, and when you open your eyes, you see his head reclined, lips parted and eyelids sitting on his beautiful cheeks. “Taking my dick so well.” 

Your body burns up at his word, a mix of feelings you can’t explain getting to your brain, but you keep trying to do your best to work on him. Until something pops in your mind. You pull away, mostly to take your breath, but your hand immediately reaches his base to pump up and down. 

Jeno doesn’t say anything, he even manages to muffle the groan of disappointment he let out when your lips left him. He knows you need breaks, but he still doesn’t quite expect what you do next. The combo mouth-hand was not on his bingo today and he can’t believe you’re doing it. It takes you a while to find a rhythm — he finds it adorable how uncoordinated you are — but when you do… fuck, when you do. 

You’re moving slower than Jeno would go crazy for, but he likes it anyway. You’re trying your best, brows knitted in concentration, mouth and hand working together, and soft moans vibrating around him. Just the view is enough to push him closer to the edge, especially when you seem to relax completely. 

“Stay focused,” he calls you out, fearing you might stop doing the most important thing again; breathe. “Don’t get too lost, princess.” 

You hum, voice muffling around his length hitting deep in your throat while you open your eyes to look at him. His jaw is tense, and he’s breathing deeply through his nose, the veins of his arms are so visible, propping on his skin as his hand is closed in a fist. He’s trying not to look down at you, you won’t know it, but you look too hot right now, and if only his eyes move down, he would start fucking your face. 

But you can’t take it. It’s your first time, and he has to be gentle. He can’t act like an animal without self-control, because he is not, right? 

Yet the more you softly moan, and gag and suck him, hollowing your cheeks while your hand shily works on the base and his balls, the harder it gets. 

When he practically growls, you pull back, terrified you did something wrong, unaware eyes looking into his. 

“Did I hurt you? I’m sorry, I — I was careful with my teeth, I’m sure I wasn’t —” 

He clicks his tongue, shaking his head as he shuts you up with his thumb on your lips, now plumper and red with spit dripping from a corner down to your chin. “You did nothing wrong,” his breath is ragged and his pupils are dilated, his chest is heaving quickly while his hair is starting to wet around the crown of his forehead. “You’re being good, baby, too good.” 

You blink, confusingly staring at him. “Too good? How can I be too good?” 

Jeno sighs, caressing your cheeks, wetting them with the spit that stuck to his thumb. “You really have no idea how fucking hot you look right now, don’t you?” 

You purse your lips, shaking your head as you keep looking up. Feeling oh so small. 

A smirk paints his face. “Should I show you?” He asks, but you don’t get it until he grabs the phone from the nightstand and shakes it in his hand. 

“Oh, that,” you gasp, feeling your throat go dry. 

“Only if you want, of course,” he reassures, sensing your hesitation. 

“I — it’s fine. If it stays on your phone, it’s fine,” you say, feeling yourself get wetter at the thought of him taking a picture of you at such a moment. It’s also curiosity. Are you really that good? Do you look as pretty as the girls in those videos? You doubt that, even if they look like a mess they’re always so pretty, but you? Maybe Jeno is just being nice because it’s you. 

“Of course, princess. Trust me, I wouldn’t let anybody else see you like this.” And also, for all the times he is going to have you in that position, he would even delete it once you are done, if you prefer it. 

You nod, shifting in your place because you don’t know what to do, should you pose? Should you take it in your mouth again? But Jeno answers your questions when he grips your chin and forces your head up, you’re not as messed up as he wishes you were, but this will do. “Smile for me,” he says and you do, feeling awkward. You’d like to disappear if only you couldn’t see his cock throb in your peripherical view, he wants you so much. 

So, as soon as the phone moves away with praises coming out of his mouth, you lean in, taking it inside again. 

“Fuck,” Jeno curses, clutching the phone in his hand, struggling to show you the picture of you. “Let me fuck your face,” he pleads, words followed by ragged moans, “you can tap my thigh if it gets too much but — fuck — let me try.” 

You pull away, trying to follow him, but even if you are doing something to him, your brain is already lost in the pleasure, and the fact you have pretty much no idea what he’s talking about doesn’t help. “Like in the videos?” 

“I won’t be that harsh, I promise,” and even if pleasure is running in his body, you can hear the honesty in his voice. 

“O — okay, but…” you drift your gaze away, “can you film us? So I can see after?” 

A deep groan reverberates in his chest, followed by a low suck of air. He can’t believe this is real, that you are real. So innocent and pure, asking for such things. But he’s more than happy you are the one proposing stuff to him. “Yeah, fuck, yes.” 

You shouldn’t feel like this just hearing his voice and moan, but you do, and the way your panties are sticking to your pussy is getting unbearable, you can’t wait to have him down there, so you part your lips, and wait for him to take the invitation. 

Jeno doesn’t waste a second more, shoving himself down your throat, stopping to give you time to adjust to the rough intrusion of his girth before he starts moving his hips against your face. 

At first, it feels weird, you have no control, and the pace is faster than yours, but you try to remember what he said before; you focus on your breathing and the sweet sounds coming from his mouth. Mostly because the ones coming from yours are too dirty for you to bear with. 

“Fuck, babe, just like this,” he praises, one hand holding up the phone and the other caressing your cheek, trying to give you something soothing while he moves with force, it’s not too strong, surely not like one video you accidentally watched — and closed right away because it was way too much. This feels like a great compromise between your slower pace from before and the facefucking.

“My pretty baby, taking me so well,” Jeno moans, smiling at you when he sees a glint of a smile in your eyes. “You still don’t believe me, do you?” 

You try to answer him non-verbally, but the way he’s thrusting into you doesn’t give your head any room for movement. He tsks, shaking his head disappointedly. “Don’t believe me when I call you beautiful when we go out on dates, don’t believe me when I whisper it to you in the morning, and not even now? Do I really have to show you?” 

You feel like choking, but not on his dick. It’s because of his voice, his words, and the tone he’s using. Your breath falters more when he turns the phone to you, the video playing what you were doing just a few moments ago. You should think it’s weird, humiliating even, but you don’t. It’s turning you on even more, and you do look pretty like he says. 

“See how beautiful you are even like this?” His voice is heavy, reaching deep into your core, making your pussy clench around nothing and drool out more excitement. “Your glossy eyes, your pretty lips stretched open just for me. Do you believe me now, princess?” 

You nod, nails digging into his thigh because the video and him are deconcentrating you and you fail to do the most important thing; breathe. You gasp when he pulls out, a thread of spit connects your lips with the tip of his cock as you sputter, trying to catch your breath. 

“Are you okay?” He asks worriedly, throwing the phone on the bed and staring at you with a concerned look on your face. “You know you should stop before reaching your limit?” 

“I know,” you cry out, cleaning your chin before lifting your gaze at him. “I was doing fine, but I… I forgot how to breathe.” 

Jeno snickers, caressing your lips with his thumb, smearing the mess on your chin another time. “You forgot how to breathe, baby? Didn’t fuck you yet, and you’re already my dumb baby?” He’s clearly testing the waters another time, you discussed these things a lot, but Jeno knows that videos and stories on the internet are a completely different thing from reality and he’s not so confident everything you think turns you on will actually turn you on. But apparently dirty talking, a mix between a lot of praises and just a hint of degradation, turns you on for real. He watches your thighs clench and your boobs rise while a choked moan leaves your lips. 

He smiles, or better, grins, tapping your face with his cock. “Will you let me fuck your mouth until I come, silly girl? Should we see just how dumb you get on me?” 

You nod eagerly, moving even closer with your knees, sure by now you were going to have marks of that night tomorrow. But not even the discomfort can stop you from letting him have his way with you. 

You moan louder when he pushes inside you this time, hands reaching his thighs for support while he starts moving quickly in and out, groans falling copiously from his tongue, balls slapping against your chin, and strong grip on the side of your face. 

You can’t take it anymore and you start rubbing your thighs together, trying to get a tiny bit of relief as his moans progressively get lower, aggressive and messier. He always tries to hold back but you’re loving this side of him. 

“Where — fuck — where do you want me to come?” He asks, slowing down a bit, only now realizing you’re wearing your favourite tank top and he doesn’t want to ruin your clothes, but were you ready for the whole thing? “Shirt?” When you shake your head he tries to think of something else, but the only option is not much better. “Floor?” But you shake your head again, and there’s only one thing left, “mouth?” You nod, eyes beaming, and he loses it. “Fuck,” he groans, hips stilling against your face as the orgasm hits him, making him empty inside of you. He drags out to don’t make you choke on his cum and then pulls away, still shuddering and moaning, expecting you to spit, having decided to play with fire and surely regretting it, but you don’t. Your face is contorted in an expression he can’t read, but you swallow everything, and then look up at him with innocent eyes. 

“Was I good?” 

“Fuck, honey, yes,” he says, lifting you up by wrapping an arm around your waist, making you lay on the bed. “So good,” he praises. 

You smile but feel shy once again when he doesn’t start anything more. You’re aching, and you want him. Everything. His mouth and fingers are not enough anymore, you need him now. 

“Jeno,” you moan. “Please.” 

“Yeah?” he asks nonchalantly. 

You huff, rolling your eyes. “Don’t make me say it.”

“Oh, no, princess, I want to hear you. Use your big girl words,” he orders.

“I want you to fuck me,” you breathe out, barely holding eye contact with him. 

He smiles victoriously, feeling his dick harden again just from hearing your voice say those filthy words. “Are you sure?” He checks in, quirking a brow.  

You hum. “I’m dripping,” you whisper, feeling too conscious about the mess between your legs. “I’m ready.” 

Jeno tried to postpone this as much as he could, not because he didn’t want you, but because he wanted to wait for you and respect your time. He knows you tend to jump into things head first, but after a brief look at you, he knows this time isn’t the case. Since the daring call, you two experimented a lot, so this was the right moment to give you everything. 

“Stop me if anything makes you uncomfortable, alright?” 

You nod, silently watching as he adjusts between your legs, pulling down your stained panties before throwing them to the side. You don’t expect his lips to leave kisses on your thighs, quite frankly you feel more eager than usual to get what you wanted right away, but it’s clear he has other plans. 

You still shy away every time he’s between your legs, feeling too conscious about how intimate you two are being. And it makes you even more dizzy when Jeno breathes in deeply before sucking on your clit. 

“Jeno,” you cry out, covering your face with your hands. 

“What, baby? How many times do I have to tell you not to cover yourself?” He scolds, eyes staring at you from between your legs. “Move your hands away or I’ll leave.” 

You barely give him time to finish that your hands are sitting at the sides of your body, and your hips are bucking up, inviting him to take care of you. 

“Eager baby,” he whispers before spreading your thighs wider, sinking down to lick your wetness. “Taste so good, princess.” 

“It’s weird,” you mumble, you truly can’t get what he finds so hot about it, and how good you taste. 

Jeno clicks his tongue, groaning in disappointment. “You don’t have to taste it,” he says, giving another harsh suck to your clit that makes your thighs shudder, “it’s all for me, and I love it.” 

Your head rolls back when he starts moving his tongue on you as soon as he’s done with his words. He’s neat, like his usual, sucking and licking until he has you shaking underneath him. But usually — the four times you’ve done this before — you just lay there. This time your fingers find their way in his hair, tangling in it as you push him closer. 

“Fuck, babe,” he moans, voice muffled against your body. “I’m not going anywhere,” he giggles and the vibrations push your brain in a spiral while your head rolls back. 

You bite down a high-pitched moan when he pushes two fingers inside you after collecting your arousal and his spit. If you want to take him — and you do — he has to get you ready for the big thing —literally. So he sucks on your clit and pumps in and out of you faster, scissoring his two digits every now and then to stretch you out more. 

“So welcoming, angel,” he hums, pulling away from your clit with a loud pop, “do you want me that much?” You must be particularly turned on because his fingers slide into you with ease, more than the other times when it took him a while to get you accommodated to the intrusion. 

“Yeah, I…” your words die in your mouth as you stare at the ceiling, feeling so, so close to the high. It’s a feeling you know quite well now, but it still catches you by surprise every time. And you fear you will never get used to any of this, not anytime soon, at least. 

“You?” He coos. “You want my cock in you? Want to finally know what it feels like to be fucked nice and deep?” 

You want the mattress to eat you as he speaks those words, but your body reacts in a completely different way, burning up as your orgasm washes over you, leaving you breathless against the bed. 

Jeno pulls his fingers out of you, sucking them clean when he’s sure your watching. “Tastes so good, no matter what you say, baby.” 

You let out a shaky breath, feeling your body buzz in ecstasy. 

“Come here,” he says, leaning in, lips to lips, “taste yourself on me.” You kiss him with no hesitation, not because you’re eager to taste your cum, but because you want to feel him as close as you can. 

“Jeno, please,” you beg, cupping his face before pulling him into another kiss. “I need you.” 

“I know you do,” he says, softly caressing your side. “Can you take it, though?” 

You nod swiftly, hips desperately grinding against him, feeling his cock against your skin. “I’ll be good, I promise.” 

Jeno smiles softly, finding it so cute how you still worry about him when you should focus on yourself. He kisses you while his right hand is busy rummaging in the stand next to the bed to find lube. 

“But I’m wet,” you complain when you realize what he’s doing, feeling a bit guilty because maybe it’s still not enough. 

“Yes, you are,” he agrees, kissing your body as he slowly stands on his knees and positions you better on the bed. “But I’m big, and I don’t want to hurt you.” 

You purse your lips in a thin line, trying to don’t overthink this, but Jeno gets something is wrong. 

“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with a bit of help. Also, lube can make things funnier, so why are you sulking?” 

“I’m not, I just — I want to be good like the girls you had be—” 

“No comparing, you are you, and I love you,” he stops you before you can finish, opening the bottle of lubricant but still waiting for your full consent. “Just trust me on this, alright?” 

“Yeah, I trust you,” you breathe out, voice shaking, and as you stare as he pours the cold liquid on his hard dick you realize this might be the smartest choice. Also, you have to remind yourself that porn is fake, and probably not even as funny as they make it out to be, so why would you want to ruin the fun with your boyfriend just to copy it?

“For anything, even if it’s just discomfort, stop me, alright?” 

You nod, feeling your nerves out of your skin, but Jeno wants you down on earth with him, and he needs to hear your voice. “Honey? What do you do if something’s wrong?” 

It takes you a while to realize he’s talking to you and even a bit more to answer. “I tell you,” you stutter, searching for his eyes because this is getting real and all your confidence is falling apart. 

“Good girl,” he praises, kissing you on the lips. 

When the tip of his cock presses against your entrance you know for sure using lube was the best idea he ever had in his entire life. Your jaw slacks, hands immediately reaching his back to sink in the skin of his shoulders as your chest rises heavily. 

“Honey, you’re too tense,” he says, pulling away. 

“No, I’m not,” you cry out, trying to push him in by locking your legs around his waist but he’s stronger than you and doesn’t let you do the dumbest thing you could ever do. 

“We don’t have to do it, you know right?” 

“But I want to,” you whine. “It’s just… big.” 

“Then we can wait.” 

“No, just… ease the tip in and then sink slowly,” you breathe out. 

“But you need to relax,” he says. “Let me do something.” It’s not what you expect him to do, but when his lips start leaving soft pecks on your skin, you can only relax under his attention. “That’s it, princess, loosen up,” he whispers against your neck, trailing down to kiss your chest, noting you’re still dressed in your camisole and he has to move it to have access to your skin. “Can I lift this off? Want to feel you close to me.” 

You hum, nodding your head in small movements as you try to relax your muscles. He quickly takes it off of you before going back to your skin, kissing and sucking, until goosebumps pervade you, distracting you while the fat head of his cock presses against your slit and you barely even notice.  

Jeno hums when he quickly glances up and you’re too lost in pleasure to tighten up around him, but he doesn’t push further in. “Good girl. Here,” he says, searching for your hand on the mattress, “hold my hand.” 

You do as he says, parting your legs when you realize he’s back where he was before, barely inside. “More, please,” you implore, meeting his eyes that turn into half-moons for a brief moment as he smiles back at you. 

He doesn’t ask more questions, afraid of tensing you up again, and pushes past your entrance. 

“Mhh,” you bite back, forcefully trapping your lower lips between your teeth to don’t let out weird sounds. 

Jeno stares at you, trying to study your body as he keeps moving, soothing circles on your waist. He’s barely halfway in and he’s not sure about what to do. 

“It’s… it’s weird,” you mumble, feeling shy when you two make eye contact. 

“Bad weird or good weird?” 

You shrug. “I don’t know, it’s not bad, it doesn’t hurt,” you reassure him. “You can push in, I’m relaxed.” 

You are, your shoulders are not tensed and your legs are parted on your own, your breath is also much more regular than before. So he does, he slowly buttons in, taking your breath away. 

You gasp, head rolling back as you feel full like never before. 

Jeno wants to back away when you start… laughing. “Are you okay?” 

You nod swiftly, “Yeah,” you smile. “It’s… I… I don’t know how to explain this,” you try to reason but truly there’s nothing rational about this. It’s the surprise because you can’t believe it happened and it’s the way it feels as your pussy automatically clenches around him. “I think you can fuck me,” you say, feeling the shame disappear. 

“I can take more time for you to adj—”

“I’m dripping and I’m ready for you, it doesn’t hurt,” you say, cupping his chin. “I’ve panicked about this moment enough, I know what I’m letting you doing.” You truly did, reading around way too much about what the first time felt like, knowing it wasn’t supposed to hurt or bleed like society said, and trusting him enough to do this. 

Jeno fights a chuckle to don’t ruin this completely and starts moving in and out of you. Studying your face with every move, his thrusts are slow at first, not only because he doesn’t want to push you too far, but also because he wants to see your reaction and feel you. Your eyes are closed while your lips are parted to let out the softest whimpers and moans, one hand is still holding his tight while the other is on his shoulder to hold onto him. 

“You’re so pretty,” he whispers, kissing you passionately, starting to pick up a rhythm when you don’t squirm away but your hips roll against his instead. “How does it feel?” 

“Good,” you cry out, “so good.” 

“Yeah? Told you it would feel good,” he groans, hips dragging in and out of you at a steady rhythm. He’d love to go faster, but he doesn’t want to hurt you or turn this into a bad experience. He wants to take it slow, and make you feel loved. “Better than those stupid videos you watch. You don’t need them to learn, they’re bullshit anyway, you have me.”

You groan, trying to hide away as you remember how he had caught you more than once as you tried to learn how to get better at this, no matter how many times he had told you he was there to guide you. “I will — I will disappoint you,” you cry out. 

“Yeah, are you sure?” He hums, kissing you briefly, hitting harder inside you, making you whimper a broken moan. “Then if you’re so afraid you’ll — fuck — disappoint me, it means I’ll have to fuck you more, ugh, how’s that sound?” 

You try to come up with words that make sense, but you hardly can breathe. It feels too much, lost in what’s happening now, and what is yet to happen. The idea he won’t hold back anymore, that at any chance he will try to make you feel good, and you will do too, sending your brain in a spiral. 

“Oh, imagining it already, nasty baby? One taste and you’re already addicted to this?” Jeno mocks playfully, cooing in your ear, sending waves of electricity down your spine. “Next time I won’t fuck you nice and slow on the bed, no,” he chuckles, brushing away the hair that is sticking to your sweating forehead. “I’ll get a bit rougher with you, do you want that?” 

You barely wait for him to finish the sentence and you’re already nodding, gripping harder on his shoulders, nails sinking in his skin, as you already savour the moment. “On the desk,” you utter shyly, slowly parting your eyes to meet his, dark and intense, piercing into your soul. 

He snickers, dick throbbing inside of you because he can’t wait to slowly discover all the little things you secretly fantasize about, he wants to watch your innocence fall apart right in front of his eyes, and he wants to be the one tearing it apart. He wants you to trust him enough to let him inside all your darkest and deepest secrets. 

“You want to be fucked on the desk?” He taunts, lightly slapping your ass, drawing a louder moan from you. “Yeah? Want to be bent over my desk?” 

You nod swiftly, trapping your tongue between your teeth as the intense feeling starts growing more and more in your stomach. “Wa-want you to pull my hair.” You’re not even sure you will like it, but you feel like everything is worth a shot with Jeno, you trust him, and you know he will respect you if you won’t like something. Even harsher things that scare you a bit, they don’t look so scary with him. 

“Fuck, baby,” he groans, rolling his head back, beads of sweat pearling his forehead. “You’ll kill me,” he whispers, teeth gritted as he tries to don’t sound too raw with his moans, but it’s hard when your pussy is gripping him so tight, your face is rolled back in bliss, your boobs are bouncing with his every move, and dirty words are coming out of your mouth. He’s not used to this and your curses, it’s used to your avoiding gazes and your small imprecations that are not curse words. 

You’re not used to this either. It’s like you opened the door to a new world and you don’t quite know how to move in it. There are endless possibilities, and you’d love to grasp them all now, but you can’t. You fear you can barely face what’s coming right now. 

“Weird,” you breathe out, chest heaving quicker as Jeno’s thrusts get faster and the hold of your legs around his waist tightens. “Too much.” 

“It’s not too much, princess. You can take it,” he says, kissing your cheeks. 

“No, it’s — it’s,” you choke on your words ‘cause you can’t quite explain how you’re feeling right now. 

Jeno kisses your lips again, it’s messier than before, and in the tangle of it, he asks if you want him to stop, but you don’t, and you almost scream a negative answer. “Please, no, don’t stop. I just — I feel like — I…” 

“It’s stronger than the other times?” He finishes for you, at least that’s what he can get from the way your body is squirming under him and how much cum is coating his dick. 

You nod, squeezing your eyes hard and opening your mouth to let as much air possible inside of your lungs. “It’s good, it’s so good, but I… I can’t take it.”

“You can, honey, you can,” he whispers, soothing you with circles on your hip. “Breathe deeply, like before.” 

You’d love to curse at him because how can you focus on your breathing during this specific moment? It’s impossible, and you don’t even want to. You like the way you feel upside down, it’s chaotic but good, and you don’t want it to stop. 

You pull him closer, kissing him harder, running your fingers through his hair to stop torturing his poor shoulders. “Want you, please.” 

“I’m here,” he hums. “Come with me?” 

You nod in a non-verbal reply, trying to don’t get overwhelmed by the feeling but it’s difficult, especially when his hand reaches for your clit and starts playing with it, and his moans get louder and messier. He sounds so hot, and that’s the last thing you need to let your pleasure invade you. 

“Jeno,” you scream his name, arching your back off the bed as pleasure runs through your body and soon after the same happens to him, filling you with his cum as he lazily pumps in and out to ride your orgasms. 

“Fuck,” he curses, letting his forehead fall on yours, pushing your legs closer to your chest before his movements come to a stop, and he feels like collapsing on top of you. He doesn’t, he keeps his body up with his elbows as he leaves pecks on your face. 

“Are you alright, love?” Jeno asks after a few seconds and you can only nod, still short of breath. He leaves one more kiss on your lips before pulling out of you, making you sigh at the loss of contact when he rolls to the side and jumps out of bed. “Stay right there,” he says before walking out of the room. 

“As if I can walk,” you giggle in a whisper, feeling your legs wobbly and your heart exploding out of your ribcage. You’re still lost in that daydream when Jeno comes up and starts to clean you up, doing his best to don’t overstimulate you — he’s got time for that.

You don’t say anything, only stare at him while his black hair falls on his forehead and you can’t believe you got so lucky. Once he’s done, he comes by your side, pulling close to his body and leaving kisses on your face. The one that breaks the silence again it’s him. 

“So, how was that? Good as you expected or did it let you down?” 

You giggle, moving your head so you can meet his eyes. “You really think this could’ve let me down?” 

“Well, I don’t know, I thought you were pretty vanilla and there you were, begging me to bend you over and pull your hair,” he chuckles, caressing your cheek. “Maybe your fantasies were different than this.” 

“It was amazing,” you smile, fighting the embarrassment caused by his words as you look at him. “Thank you for waiting for me.” 

Jeno smiles, eyes lighting up before his lips fall on your forehead again. “I would wait for you forever.” 

© neowinestaindress; all rights reserved. do NOT repost, modify, or translate any work from this blog on any other platform and claim it as yours. you can find my works on ao3 (neowinestaindress) and wattpad (winestaintedress_; currently inactive).

#nct fanfiction #jeno smut #lee jeno smut #nct smut #nct dream smut

[captain039]

Drunken cuddles and midnight confessions

Astarion x reader

Warnings: AOB, fluff, light angst

I wrote this at like two in the morning lmao

‘Well hello, looking for a cuddle?’

You honestly hadn’t meant to drink this much, but it’d been a long time since you’d been at the gate. You were staggering on your feet though and Shadowheart was quite done with your lack of control when drinking. You were giggling and trying to dance with the poor half elf all night like some drunken giggly girls at a tavern. You were in high happy spirits, enjoying the smells and people. You were never really outgoing when sober, drunk though, you think you tried to talk up the alpha Druid more than once while he kindly declined and said you were drunk, to which you groaned and whined in return. You think you eventually passed out on your bedroll, sort of, you awoke in the dirt seeking warmth and comfort having forgotten your suppressants. Your body moved on its own as the pale elf laid in a mediative state. He awoke obviously sensing you as he smirked and leant back on his hands.

“Looking for a midnight cuddle?” He grinned moving his shoulders lightly. All you did was nod feeling exhausted and needy. The elf frowned taking a small sniff as you practically squashed him.

“Gods-“ he said softly as you laid on him and sighed contently.

“I didn’t mean literally, why do you smell like that?” He grunted annoyed.

“No, suppressants ‘mega, need alpha cuddles” you slurred sleepily and he tensed.

“I’m a vampire darling not an alpha, go cuddle the druid and fill your omega needs” he scoffed lightly and you made a sad noise and lifted your top half up to look at him.

“Don’t give me that look” he said eyes stern as you gave a pout and puppy dog eyes.

“I’ll leave you alone in the morning then forever, promise, know you don’t like me” you tried to compromise, you really needed this in your state your mind not entirely thinking. He frowned looking a little baffled and you felt dejected and went to stand, he was quick to grab your waist though and pull you back to him. He rolled you both to your side and tugged the blanket he had over you both. You made a contented noise snuggling in closer to smell his scent, bergamot, rosemary and brandy.

“Why do you think I don’t like you?” He asked suddenly as you were almost asleep.

“M to different, annoying, not your type” you mumbled tucking yourself more under his chin your inner omega practically purring, if you could purr you probably would. He tensed again and you grumbled softly arm going over his waist.

“I do like you” he sighed and you just said a small hm, feeling yourself drifting off to sleep.

“More than you realise little pup” he muttered, but you were already asleep. He felt himself tug you impossibly closer, hearing your content sigh and feeling you snuggle deeper into the embrace. He thought it the other way around, you were good, nice, practically humming with warmth, your smile was like the sun and he was the shadow. Lurking always ready to stab someone in the back or front if needed, obsessed with revenge and always in fear of his masters invisible collar around his neck. You deserved someone who could take care of you and your omega needs, hells you smelt like warm vanilla and honey, a scent somehow familiar to him, he just doesn’t remember where from. He wanted you to himself, as a lover, a partner and equal, he didn’t want to snuff out your sunshine, no matter how cold and cool he played it in the outside.

Everyone else had woken up before you both, Shadowheart had found Karlach staring at something. The half elf went to her and Karlach quickly shut her up before she could say anything making her highly confused before Karlach grinned a silent giggle leaving her lips as she pointed to the bed roll. Shadowheart raised her eyebrows slightly seeing you tucked securely in the vampires embrace, head under his chin, you looked so content for the first time since you travelled together. Your sweet omega scent calm and safe, you’d forgotten your suppressants, it made her smile. Wyll stood by her side a small smile on his face too as Karlach almost squealed in delight before Minsc spoke loudly to greet you.

You were the first to wake up at the loud voice of Minsc. Your head pounded, but you felt overly warm, comforted and safe in someone’s embrace, gods what did you do last night? You heard Astarions growl of annoyance and realised he was the one holding you. Karlach was huffing and groaning at Minsc while your mind reeled.

“I’m so sorry- I don’t remember-“ you went to back away from the elf, but he stopped you.

“Gods you’re stupid sometimes” he muttered before his lips pressed to yours. You laid frozen as he gave you a tender kiss before pulling away.

“What?” You said dumbly and the vampire rolled his eyes.

“Come darling, I think we need a chat” he said stretching before standing up and holding his hand out to you with a small smile. You hadn’t seen that smile before, kindness.

You took his hand.

#astarion x reader #x reader #aob #bg3 #fluff

[thatsdemko]

room 305 - l.stroll

masterlist

requested: n

pairing: Lance stroll x fem!reader

warnings: build up + childhood friends trope + not intended for minors + long(omg I’m so sorry) + mentions of oral (f + m receiving)

a/n: I want to thank @oconso, @monzabee, and @holllandtrash for being the people who inspired me to keep writing this fic 😅your reactions were my motivation to keep going! so sorry for the two posts in two days, just felt the need to get this out there xx feedback is appreciated 🫶

《 the following content is not intended for minors. 》

how you got to this point in the conversation is beyond you.

you can feel the saliva thicken in your throat. sweat begins to break out across your forehead that you wipe with the back of your hand nervously. he seems so calm, so collected. like he didn’t just learn his best friend, of childhood, was a virgin.

it wasn’t a problem you had. you didn’t mind walking around sexually frustrated that not a single man was ready to take you to the next base, but the way lances skin quickly dropped pale, eyes nearly jumping out of their sockets, you knew it wasn’t okay.

“so like,” he pauses, you can see he’s trying to digest the news. you watch him swallow before continuing, “you’ve just never had sex before?”

he realized how stupid he sounds. just repeating your words back to you, and he watches red spread further across your cheeks. he cannot imagine how embarrassing this conversation had to be, but he can thank the wine for finally pushing you open to him.

you nod, reaching for the bottle of wine in the middle of the table, your hands are too shaky from the embarrassment. the bottle dips, about to hit the wood table, but Lance is quick enough to catch it and takes a knowing look at you, “you don’t have to be afraid. it’s me.”

he says it in a matter of fact tone, because it is him. the guy who wasn’t shy to be your first kiss, or the guy who wasn’t shy to risk his life and teach you how to drive. he would be more than honored to teach you what good sex is, and he knows by the look in your eyes, you’re thinking about it.

“if not tonight,” he pauses, watching you adjust in the uncomfortable hard wood chair, hoping and praying this conversation would be over, “some other time. I’m always down.”

—

it’d been a week since your confession, and the idea always stayed lurking in the back of your mind.

even when he introduces you to his team, when his back muscles flexed in the skin tight fireproof, you were thinking about him on top of you, how his skin would feel against yours.

you’re lost in your thoughts, thinking about how warm his body would be against yours, his cold palm against your throat, when he interrupts your thoughts.

“so you’re thinking about it too?” he shifts in front of you. you watch the smirk turn against his lips as his hand slips down your arm, finger tips ever so gently brushing your skin.

he watches your lips slightly gap, eyes becoming doe-like. “the offer still stands.” he says.

the way he’s acting is killing you. he’s so nonchalant, like it’s not a big deal to him, but your mind races with the boundaries you were crossing. this was no longer going to be an easy childhood friendship, it’d much more complicated for crying out loud. he’d see your most vulnerable places, and you cannot believe he’s acting with not a care in the world.

“I want it to be with the right person,” you say, your voice sounds shaky like you weren’t sure of yourself, but deep down you were. “It’s important to me you understand that.” you add.

he shifts from one hip to the other, giving you a tiny nod in understanding, “do you think I’m not the right person for you?” he asks. he picks up on your hesitation, air caught in your lungs because you weren’t expecting that response. you had a whole planned out response, and instead you’re looking for words to answer.

that same smirk toys his lips again as he slips into his teal green racing suit, “you know where to find me.” he sends you a wink, but doesn’t leave without a final word, “I’ve got a condom with your name on it, you just say when.”

—

your fingernail is gushing with blood. you’ve been chewing it nonstop since the race started.

the gnawing at your skin might’ve started with the race, it wasn’t an easy start and finish, with yellow flags, safety cards, and animals at risk; the race was anything but calm. now that the race was over, and you were watching Lance climb out of the car, the nervous tick now wasn’t because of the race anymore. it was because of the butterflies in your stomach and the throbbing from your pussy.

you’ve never felt this hungry for someone before. you watch his hair fall out of the helmet, the dark brown locks were flattened due to the balaclava, but the hairs find their way back to their natural shape as he shakes them off his sweaty forehead.

you feel like a little girl at school again. getting all excited when your crushed looked your way, or how nervous you got around him, it all felt too familiar. it was how you used to feel about Lance when you were in middle school. always looking at him when no one was watching, and being anxious when you were left alone with him. some feelings never do go away.

“I heard p9 is the newest p1.” you say when he’s finally made his way over to you. you watch him as he steps up to your body, arms wrapping around you. there was nothing that could of prepared you for this moment, there was no better feeling than Lance against your own body.

his arms are loose around you, his hand rests in the middle of your back, thumb lightly stroking your back. you inhale his sweaty scent, the mixture of his cologne lingers the odor, it’s oddly enough to send a pulse back down between your inner thighs.

“p1, huh?” he asks pulling away from your body, fingers running through his hair, he gently pulls on the strands before running his fingers down his face.

“that’s what they’re saying.” you reply, stumbling backwards, knees a bit too weak to stand you need something to grab onto. you never expected a man to ever do this to you. at least not Lance.

he licks his lips, “what does p1 get?”

“me.” you say.

every vessel in your body is sure of this. you might not of been hours ago, when he was playing his asshole cards, but now? you’re sure he’s the one. in fact, you’re sure he’s the only one.

you watch him swallow the lump in his throat. he’s never seen you be so bold. he watches your face to see if any signs of bluffing, but you’re not folding, you’re sure of this.

“meet me back at the hotel, room 305.”

—

you sit on the edge of his hotel bed, once again gnawing at the skin of your fingertips. you weren’t sure what to expect, should you dress up for the occasion? maybe sport a g-string? you couldn’t even focus on trying to eat dinner, there was too much on your mind.

“would you stop eating your skin?” he asks emerging from the bathroom with a towel around his waist. he’d been in the shower when you arrived. he heard the door click open, and listened to you carefully place it behind you to not make too much noise. of course, you failed by running into bathroom door that was wide open allowing the steam from the shower out the room.

“I’m sorry,” you mutter putting your hand underneath your thighs, “I’m just nervous.” you admit, as if it wasn’t obvious. he’s known you your whole life, that tick was a dead giveaway of your anxiety.

you watch him bend down to pick up one of his shirts out of his suitcase. you’re a little unsure why he’s getting dressed if in the next ten minutes you’ll be throwing the shirt off of him, and you can tell he’s reading your confusion just by the way he laughs.

“we are doing this my way, dinner first then sex. I gotta get to know you before I fuck you.”

you scoff. like he hasn’t spent over a decade or two learning the in’s and outs of you. you find it ridiculous, but he’s truly the only man that’s ever agreed to second base. he’s your only safe option to show you what a first time should be like.

“fine, should I change?” you gesture to the outfit you’re wearing. a midi white skirt, pair of sandals, and a black tank top.

he shakes his head, “no it’s fine, skirts are easy to take off anyway.”

you laugh, and decide to wait for him to change. of course, he changes with the bathroom door cracked open. it’s not enough for you to see anything, but you can hear the zip of jeans, the sound of his socks against the cold tile, all the things to let you know he was naked.

“ready?” he asks while grabbing his keys and wallet off the nightstand.

you stand up and watch him, you see the gold packaging that was hidden beneath the wallet, and you know exactly what it is. he wasn’t hiding it.

“where to?”

he gives you a knowing look like you shouldn’t of asked, and you know exactly what he’s about to say, “Lester’s deli.”

—

the sandwich in front of you is just as good as you remember it being. Lance sits across from you, halfway finished with his when he looks up at you, “so tell me, what do you like in a guy?” he asks.

you nearly drop the sandwich just to swallow before replying. it took all of the strength in you to not look down at his growing hard cock in his jeans.

it was evident the whole drive. his hand resting on your bare thigh, fingertips dangerously move up your skirt. he was such a tease, it was killing you how he was acting.

you shrug your shoulders, “I don’t know, just as long as he’s nice.” you reply to his question taking another bite out of your sandwich.

he nods taking a sip of his drink before asking another question, “I want the specifics. what did and didn’t work. do you like it when I touch you? do you hate hair pulling?”

the questions roll off his tongue, it’s hard to keep track. you can tell he’s been around the block, whereas you’ve barely been in the house let alone allowed to park your car in a man’s garage.

“Lance,” you say, finally stopping him from getting into orgys and sex toys, “I’ve never had sex. I don’t know what I like, but I know I like you.”

he finds himself blushing. he owes Chloe at least twenty bucks for predicting the expectable outcome: that you would fall for each other.

“well then what are we waiting for?” he asks, standing up from his chair. the few customers turn around hearing the legs of the chair scrape against the floor.

you watch him like you used to. with those silly little doe-eyes and follow his lead because even if you wanted to say no, you couldn’t. you dreamt of a moment like this at some point in your life, and you cannot believe it was Lance stroll who’d fuck you in his hotel room.

—

you lay against the mattress, his lips press against yours every so often while he takes off his shirt. you study the way his body looks as the black t-shirt comes off his back. you take your index finger and trace the outlines of his abs, the tattoo on his rib cage. there’s so much to see.

“I’ll help you.” he guides your hands to the zipper of his jeans. his hands steadies your shaking ones as you pull on the tiny metal that’s holding all of him together.

the jeans come off, they are in a ball on the floor along side his t-shirt he was once sporting. he’s hesitant to take off your tank top for you, his cold hands are on top of yours while you lift your shirt up over your head.

he licks his bottom lip before pressing them against yours for a brief second, “so beautiful.”

during the kiss he took the chance to unhook your bra, and when he pulls away, the material that was holding your breasts up is ripped off of you exposing your nipples to the cool air of the hotel room.

“lay back, for me.” he says, and you obey. it wasn’t much of a demand, rather than a statement for comfort. he takes the opportunity to spread your legs far apart, feet pressed into the mattress.

the white skirt you’re wearing rides up your thighs, he can see the lacy panties as clear as day, a smirk lifts his lips, “for me? you didn’t have to.” he jokes, but its sincere. he finds it charming you put in the effort to look presentable.

“whatever.” you grumble.

he smiles, hands running up your legs to your thighs. he stops at your hips that currently hold the floral lacy material in place. he’s careful to not tear the material as it trails down your legs before being tossed aside.

he gets off the bed for the gold wrapper on the nightstand. while he’s tugging off his boxers, the realization hits you. you’re about to have sex with the Lance stroll. the man who you once took showers with when you were babies, held you while your parents bickered and fought. this man was more than the perfect guy for the job to take your virginity.

“you just tell me when to stop, okay?”

his thumb grazes your cheek for a brief second before his hand slides down your throat. he’s gentle over your voice box, “I need to hear you, you’ll tell me to stop.”

his chain dangles off his of chest, the dim lights of the room reflect off it, nearly blinding you while he speaks. you feel that pulse once again as you nod, “I’ll tell you.” you try to vocalize your needs, but it’s caught in your throat making you sound raspy and hoarse.

he lets go. allowing that hand to caress your body while the other balances him in between you. his chain hovers over your eyelids, shoulder blades lining up with yours you can feel the heat radiating off of him. your breath is caught in your lungs by the sight of his beauty.

you feel his skin against yours before his tip inside of you. your hips grind together, chests nearly colliding with one another. your back arches into him, a gasp rolls off your tongue, nails digging deep into his skin. he hisses.

the strokes weren’t deep and long at first, rather quick and sporadic to get a feel. you’re tight, and he expected this, but he didn’t expect the challenge to open you up to feel so good.

his head tilts back a bit, a little grunt escaping his lips as he goes deeper into your core. you’re whining under him, absolutely soaking wet under him already.

he’s big, god he’s incredibly big. you’re not why he doesn’t walk around flaunting it, because you’re sure it’s the biggest dick you’ve ever seen and you weren’t even sure he’d fit in you.

you squirm when he goes long, the pain is met with pleasure shortly, a whimper escapes your lips, nails still digging into his back.

his strokes start to pick up again, you can feel the mattress beneath you two begin to shake, the headboard lightly tapping the wall behind you. you’re about a second away from coming when he hits the bundle of nerves that send a rush through your body. a whine slips off your tongue, and suddenly he’s slowing down— pulling out to be exact.

“yeah?” he asks. trying to catch his breath, he takes a long look into your angelic eyes, “let me taste you.” his voice is quiet. picking your legs up over his shoulders, his eyes dazzle with excitement at the thick moisture against your folds.

you shutter, when you feel his wet warm tongue against your skin, it’s a sensation that itches your brain, makes you dizzy, and gets your legs to twitch.

he takes his time wiping up your moisture in every fold before he re-enters your center— this time with his tongue. his name rolls off your lips, he stops for a brief moment before you guide him to continue. your fingers are tugging hard on the strands of his brown hair.

“you taste amazing.” he lifts up sitting on his knees wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, a question in his mind sparks his interest.

“you want to try something?” he asks. curiosity flows through you. what more could he have up his sleeve?

you nod, allowing him to take your hands and lift you off the bed. you’re struggling to stand on your two feet, he helps you onto your knees, eye to eye with his hard cock.

“open your mouth, relax your jaw.” he instructs. you follow his commands, doing as so before taking his cock into your hands, fingers carefully stroke the shaft before your mouth closes around his tip.

the rest of his words get caught in his throat when your tongue swipes his tip. your fingers are beginning to wrap tight around his hard cock. how the hell were you so good at this? he thought to himself.

you may not be experienced enough, but you know just what you’re doing. you’ve read enough smut in your life to know where your hand should be, how your tongue should flick him. you know this will get him to come.

“g-good girl.” he moans.

his head is thrown back in pleasure. he can’t get enough of the feeling of your hand move up and down him, tongue swiping every inch of his cock.

he’s got one hand in your hair, the other is gripping the edge of the nightstand for balance. his knees are weak, he can’t stand it. he gives into the pleasure that he’s holding onto and let’s go. he’s enjoyed every second, every gasp that exits his mouth is a reward to your ego.

your mouth is met with his cum, a soft whimper escapes his lips that ends with a sigh in a relief. you pull away from his body, and when you look up from his cock, your eyes being greeted to his cocky smirk.

“not bad for a first timer.” he says, a light chuckle escapes his lips as he collapses against the mattress. it was finally over.

his arms are extended upward, fingers motioning for you to join him. you get up off the floor, and climb into his arms.

“now what?” you ask, resting your head against his chest. you can hear his heart still rapidly pounding.

it was a question you didn’t want to ask. once this was over, now that you no longer were a virgin, you figured there was no challenge left for him.

“now? we cuddle. next time? I get to teach you how to ride.”

“sounds like a plan.”

#lance stroll imagine #lance stroll x reader #lance stroll fic #lance stroll x y/n #lance stroll fanfiction #lance stroll #lance stroll x you #lance stroll smut #f1 imagine #f1 driver x you #f1 fic #f1 driver x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagines #f1 x you #f1 smut #f1 x female reader #f1 x y/n #formula 1 x you #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 #formula 1 fic #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 x y/n #aston martin f1

[allwaswell16]

A fic rec of One Direction fics where Louis is a villain of some sort as requested in an ask I can no longer find oof Hope you see this rec whoever asked for it! If you enjoy the fics, please leave kudos and comments for the writers! You can find my other fic recs here. Happy reading!

- Louis/Harry -

💀 Wanted Most by BornOnABeach

(E, 156k, thief Louis) Louis Tomlinson is a thief, and a damn good one at that. Most have heard of him. Most don't understand him. And Harry Styles is the FBI agent who can never seem to catch him.

💀 Cover Me with Jewels by ShatteredGlassHouse / @larryislove

(E, 55k, thief Louis) the one where Louis is a jewel thief and dating Harry Styles, the heir to a designer jewellery business empire, but Louis worries Harry will discover him, so he disappears for five years. 

💀 Tied Down by HamPalpert

(E, 48k, drug dealer Louis) The most interesting case in Liam and Niall's careers falls directly into their laps, courtesy of an epic fuck-up of one Harry Styles, partner to the almost-infamous drug dealer Louis Tomlinson. 

💀 I'll Throw Away My Faith (Just To Keep You Safe) by @theboyfriendstagram

(E, 42k, assassin Louis) AU. Harry Styles is an MI6 agent on a mission to find out who’s planning on killing the Prime Minister. Louis Tomlinson is a wanted professional assassin, hired by the MI6 to kill whoever wants to kill the Prime Minister.

💀 Please, Deceive Me by Larringiscaring

(E, 42k, thief Louis) Louis robs casino's with his ex-boyfriend, and Harry trusts a criminal a little more than he should

💀 no pressure, no diamonds by @karamelised

(E, 42k, thief Louis) Louis is a thief, Harry a grifter. They are thrown together for a huge diamond heist in Paris, where their past soon catches up to them.

💀 Buried Like Treasure by QuickedWeen / @becomeawendybird

(E, 40k, thief Louis) Semi-retired thief Louis Tomlinson has been pulled in for one last job: steal a painting from an uninhabited mansion. Neither one of them expects a natural disaster.

💀 The Risen (series) by @creamcoffeelou

(E, 28k, cult au) In search of the next breaking story, Harry goes off to do something no one else has been able to do: get the scoop on Louis Tomlinson and his devoted group of followers.

💀 For You, I Will (I Don't Believe in Magic, but) by theweightofmywords / @lil0

(E, 17k, criminal Louis) Louis leads two lives, when all he wants is a simple one with Harry.

💀 focal point by rainbowsandgucci

(M, 8k, thief Louis) By the time you read this, I’ll be gone, so don’t bother looking. Last night was lovely, Harry, I’m sure you agree. Sorry to run, but that’s just how life works sometimes, I’m sure you understand. Don’t forget about me. xx P.S. Thanks for the money

💀 Daisy by Jennifer_Kaid / @poetsreprieve

(E, 3k, mob au) An assassin who lurks in shadows, who kills with a detachment towards his victims, their death always displayed artfully for anyone who stumbles upon the corpse once his work is done.

💀 Stealing My Trust by Phillipa19

(E, 3k, organized crime) Harry hates the danger Louis' 'job' puts him in, but no one ever said being in love with a criminal would be easy.

💀 we're swimming with the sharks until we drown by velvetnoodle

(T, 3k, thief Louis) There’s only one thing that makes Harry’s job on the casino floor bearable, and that’s a chance to grab the attention of the mysterious man who frequents the establishment often.

💀 How to Catch a Christmas Tree by Anonymous

(E, 2k, omegaverse) It's two days until Christmas and Harry needs a Christmas tree.

💀 Marionette by Anonymous

(E, 2k, witch Louis) Harry is a vampire on the hunt. He doesn’t know that he’s not the top of the food chain.

💀 The shape I've made you into by flamboyo / @riverswater

(M, 1k, established relationship) "Sometimes, I wish you'd hit me."

💀 Twenty-Eight by @beardyboyzx

(M, 1k, spy au) Agent Harry Styles has finally caught his nemesis, but there's a knot in the plot he's not ready to detangle.

- Rare Pairs -

💀 To Catch a Thief by StormDancer

(E, 49k, Zayn/Louis) There are some rules even thieves have trouble breaking. Marriage vows, for instance.

#ficrec #villain louis #1dficvillage #hltracks #trackinghome #trackinghappily #tracksintheam #ficsfor4am #1dsource

[littlenightma]

Hello. Could you write more about Sheriff Eric Newlon (if he's dark or yandere it would be great.) Your article about him was great.

Yandere!Eric Newlon Headcanons

• Eric comes off as a normal guy. Always has a smile on his face, greets everyone with warmth and is always there when someone needs him. His dazzling charm sucked you in. No one could have ever seen the darkness brewing beneath the surface of his nice guy facade.

• Eric thrives off of protecting you. He loves the way you curl into him with his coat wrapped around you as you two walk down the sidewalk or when you tighten your hold on his hand when you pass a group of unfamiliar people. You have no idea the lengths he would go to in order to keep you safe.

• No idea.

• And damn it what kind of man would he be if he allowed you to wander the world without him, alone, naive to the dangers that were lurking around every corner.

• Eric isn’t just in love with you. He’s obsessed with you. Everything about you Eric thinks about every waking hour of the day from your twinkling eyes, your gorgeous hair, down to your luscious body. He’s practically itching to get off his shift so he can drive home to find you curled up on the couch waiting for him.

• He has access to everyone’s files at the station, including yours. Especially yours. He keeps a copy locked in his desk drawer, tucked safe and sound, where he can pull it out whenever he wants to. All of the info he could ever want to know is right there within arm’s reach.

• He knew which cafés you preferred, which stores you liked shopping at, and where you got your car maintenaced. He knew everything about you before you even knew his name.

• You didn’t actually believe running into him as much as you did was all due to chance, did you? Silly one, you should know by now when it comes to Eric, nothing is ever just a coincidence.

• He pulls it out when he’s having a particularly bad day in order to run his thumb across the picture he took of you while you were out shopping with your friends. You’d stayed out longer than usual so he felt the need to check up on you and he got so enthralled by your beauty that he just had to snap a photo to remember the moment forever.

• You start noticing Eric’s paranoia emerge the longer you two are together and the more his feelings for you grow. At first, he comes as extremely protective, but then it progresses into something more darker, more…possessive.

• When he comes home to find you not there, he checks his phone. To his dismay there is no text and he becomes scared thinking that you were hurt. Call after call there is still no answer. Eric rarely shows himself so when you come home in the middle of his breakdown he is instantly in your face asking you question after question not letting you answer the first one. He chides you about not informing him of your whereabouts and berates you about who exactly you were with.

• You brush it off, believing it to be a symptom of being a cop for so long. You explain that you had to stay back at work to put finishing touches on a project and this seems to calm him some. He pulls you into a hug.

• “I’m sorry I acted like that, baby. I just get so scared when I don’t know where you are.”

• Puts a tracking app in your phone and on your car without you knowing. He can’t allow that to happen again. What if you had been hurt and what if he didn’t reach you in time? He can’t risk it.

• Black Friday shopping was always off limits to you, but when your friends invited you to go with last minute you decided to go. Eric had been constantly hovering and you yearned for space.

• What a stupid decision on your part.

• Eric is livid. He’s like a bull ready to charge as he’s driving out to find you. When he does, he is suspiciously calm. He asks you to come with him and you do and on the way home you apologize but he doesn’t say anything. His eyes are trained on the road. Inside the house though it’s like a matador had finally raised their red flag.

• He’s roaring. “I fucking told you not to be out on Black Friday! Why can’t you listen to me?! I’ve lost so much. So many people. I can’t lose you. I won’t lose you!”

• “Eric, you can’t expect me to stay home when everyone’s out shopping.”

• And then he snaps. He yanks your hair, his handsome face dangerously close to yours. “Don’t fucking do it again or I swear to God you’ll regret it.”

• And the worst part is that no one would ever believe that highly adorned and doting Eric Newlon would ever do something so horrible and so vicious.

• You’re stuck with no where to turn. If you leave, he’ll track you down with the plentiful resources he has at his disposal. You are trapped, forever his.

NSFW 18+

• You have pushed Eric past his limit. You are tied to the dining room table, legs spread and mouth gagged. He has presented you like an oven-baked turkey and he can’t wait to take a bite out of you. He runs his cock over your slick opening teasingly, preparing you to get basted by his cock.

• “You really don’t know what you do to me, do you? After everything I have done for you, all the love I have ever given and you still want to leave me.

• He thrusts exactly three times. “So. Very. Ungrateful.”

• You moan against your gag. Your body is betraying you. It accepts him with open arms, like he was meant to be inside you. You tried so hard to get away from him, but he always managed to reel you back in.

• Eric sees the turmoil on your face, sees the fight you’re having with yourself. With every snap of his hips he knows he’s closer to breaking you down and he’s desperate to do it.

• He pours cranberry sauce on your chest, letting it dye your chest maroon. He rubs the sticky liquid over your body and it looks like blood. Your blood.

• “I could fake your death so easily, you know. Then lock you up and keep you all to myself. No one would come looking for you. Or I could always find someone else who will appreciate my efforts.”

• You fight your binds, not liking that he was talking about someone else while he was rearranging your guts.

• “Ah, so you do care. What is it, dear? Want me all for yourself then?”

• Crawling on top of you, he unknots the gag and kneels over your face. He puts his cock to your mouth. “Why don’t you show me just how grateful you are.”

#eric newlon #eric newlon x reader #thanksgiving movie (2023) #thanksgiving movie #patrick dempsey #slasher x reader #slasher #slashers #slasher community #john carver #john carver x reader

[bunni-v1]

Curée

Chapter 1: Monster in the Woods Next Chapter

Tw: Mentions of animal death

Info: Rook x Reader; Vil x Reader(familial); Epel x Reader(platonic)

🍓Ahhhh, it's done! If this is well received, I will continue it. If not, I guess I'll drop it. Oh well, I worked hard on this... so I hope you all enjoy it!

Tags: @kitsun369 @bloomstruck

You hated parties, plain and simple. Socializing with the elites of society was always so drab. Their fake smiles, empty compliments, and hideous attire always made them hard to deal with. The worst part, however, had to be getting ready beforehand. Your handmaids awoke you before the sun was even up, practically drowned you in your bath, and then stuffed you into the tightest corset only to make it worse with the fluffiest dress known to man.

You understood you had to look presentable, but beauty comes at a hefty cost — a cost you hated paying. 

If you had a choice, you would be out hunting. Feeling the wind in your hair, smelling the sweet soil of the earth, and hearing the melodic tunes the birds would sing for you. However, you were the princess. You were obligated to be at your own birthday celebration, you supposed.

Besides, since your parents passed, Vil had become rather restrictive in what you can and cannot do. Vil loved you, and only wanted what was best for you. You understood that he was scared that he could lose you, too. Neither of you could ever live without the other. You were his rock, and in turn, he was yours. That's how it always had been. So, for the sake of your brother’s sanity, you gave up adventure for a more “acceptable” lifestyle.

Still, Vil would catch you staring out over the trees in longing, just as you were doing right now, and scold you. ‘You have a duty,’ ‘You cannot risk yourself, we have a kingdom to lead,’ and so on. 

How you missed it, though.

A knock sounded at your door, pulling you out of your thoughts. The maids were finished with you for now, who could this be…?

“Who is it,” you called, poising yourself just in case it was your brother.

“It’s Epel, your majesty!”

You relaxed again — well, as much as this corset would allow you to. 

“Come in,” you called, adding as he turned to face you, “and none of that Your Majesty nonsense around me, we are friends first Epel.”

“I know,” he laughed, “You can never be too sure when Vil is lurking around.”

“You are right, and the last thing you need is to be in trouble with Vil once again.”

You gestured for him to sit on the window sill next to you, and he smiled. Epel was likely your only true friend in the castle. Plucked off the streets by your brother, thanks to his charming face, and made a lower member of the court. The only member that wouldn’t snitch on you and your misadventures to gain favor with your brother. He was the only reason you were able to have any fun in your boring castle life.

“What brings you by, Vil seemed to have you on a busy schedule until the party, so I’m sure this must be important if it’s worth Vil’s wrath.”

“I have a present for you,” he replied, eyes lighting up in mischief.

“Epel,” you deadpanned “I’ll be opening all my presents tonight in front of the party-goers. You may be my friend but you don’t get special treatment.”

“No, no, no, this is a special secret gift,” he smirked.

“Please tell me you won’t try and court me.”

“Euch, no. Just- Here.” 

He pulled an ornate box from behind his back and placed it in your lap, wrapped in a lovely velvety red bow. It was rather large and rectangular, and you weren’t sure how you didn’t notice it when he came in. You raised your eyebrows at him, and he waved his hands to urge you on. 

You began to carefully undo the bow on the top, humming as it fell off onto the floor. It seems Epel had taken care when packaging this gift, so you would take care to open it. Lifting the lid, you found a protective felt covering over whatever this was. 

“Could you hurry up,” Epel snapped, earning a glare from you.

“I don’t want to damage the packaging! You took such care with it.”

“You’re too sentimental. Let me do it.”

He reached over and, without much fanfare, revealed a bow. A bow made out of the finest wood you’d ever seen, painted white and purple. Hand-carved designs along its limbs, golden details highlighting each intricate swirl in the pattern. It was the most beautiful bow you’d ever seen, the sturdiest as well. You ran your hands along it in awe and delight. Along with it was an equally intricate quiver stocked with arrows of similar design to the bow. 

“Epel, this is…”

“I know you’re not allowed to go hunting with me anymore, but… I thought that maybe tonight we could make an exception?”

“Vil would be…”

“What Vil doesn’t know won’t hurt him, right?”

You frowned, looking back to the beautiful bow your friend had made for you. Your brother would be crossed with you if went against his wishes. You looked back to Epel, hope glimmering in those comforting eyes of his. Damn it all.

“Alright, just this once, though. This bow is too pretty to be wasted after all.”

Epel practically jumped with glee at your answer, hopping around like a mad hatter and whooping with delight. His excitement was infectious, and if your corset weren’t so painful to move in, you’d have joined him. Instead, you laughed at his antics and cheered him on from your seat on the window sill.

Another knock at your door caused the commotion to stop suddenly. Epel frantically took the bow and tossed it beneath your bed before peaking his head outside the door.

“Your Majesty… funny seeing you here…” he chuckled nervously, and you knew he would be in some hot water later.

“You are supposed to be with the rest of the court. Instead, I hear you are not only not doing that, but you are harassing the person of the hour with your screaming,” Vil scolded as he pushed his way into the room.

“I was just visiting them. We are friends, after all.”

“Friends or not, Epel, they do not need you bothering them in their private quarters on such an important day.”

“Oh, Vil, please. I invited him here because I was bored on my lonesome,” you sighed, “Epel, you are dismissed. I will deal with Vil.”

Epel scrambled out of the room as if it was on fire — with Vil’s temper, it might as well be. You turned to your brother, annoyance clear on your face, and he matched the look.

“You learned that look from me, you know.” he snarked.

“Well, I wear it better,” you sassed back, earning a smile from your brother.

He moved to your tea table, sitting in his usual seat against the wall and gesturing for you to do the same. You follow suit, sitting in the one with the clearest view of the forest. Without meaning to, you allow your eyes to linger a moment too long, and while Vil does not say anything you know he noticed. He reaches his hands across the table and grabs yours in his own like he always does when he is alone with you.

“You look beautiful, our parents would be so proud.”

“I feel as though this corset wants my insides to be my outsides.”

He laughs, bright and clear like the morning sun — he rarely does anymore, so you savor every moment you can get. His hands squeeze yours tight, and you squeeze back just as tight, suppressing the proud grin you had for making him laugh.

“Today is special,” he spoke softly, running his thumbs over your knuckles.

“It is, I am old enough to be wed — perhaps I could marry Epel, then he will truly be family.”

He grimaced, pulling away from you, “Please don’t suggest such a thing.”

“You know we are the least compatible people on this planet,” you laugh, “besides, he is already family enough.”

He nods, either in agreement or understanding — you cannot make out which it is from his expression. He recomposes himself, schooling his expression into one of practiced poise, and you know your brother will not want to joke around anymore. Sucking it up, you follow his lead and school your expression as well. 

“I’m assuming you didn’t come here just to scare off Epel, did you?”

“Astute as ever, darling,” something in his voice sends chills up your spine. Something is wrong, and you don’t know what. “You are… older now. Old enough to marry.”

“I… know that, as I’ve said. That was just in jest, nothing serious.”

He stands, moving to pace around the room as if this was more stressful for him than it was for you. Knowing your brother, it most likely was. Still, you didn’t quite understand what his purpose was.

“My love, perhaps it is time you stop jesting. You are a Princess. You have duties, and… as the queen of this country, I must ensure you fulfill them.”

“Vil-“

“I’m not saying you have to make your decision right now, Sevens knows I don’t want you getting married yet. Still, there are suitors who would like a grab at your hand.”

“Vil, this is-“

“I’ve told a few that they may try your hand, but if they are forceful you will tell me and I will deal with them at once.”

“You… approved these strangers without my permission? Vil! How could you?“

“This is what is best for you, I’m sorry…”

He stops in front of you, bending down to look you in the eyes and gently taking your face into his hands. 

“You know I have never once asked something of you that I did not see as necessary,” he said, uncharacteristically desperate, “Please understand, I am doing what is best here.”

Truthfully, you did not understand. You did not understand at all and you were angry. This was the angriest you had ever been with Vil — far more angry than when he banned you from hunting. He had deliberately done this behind your back. He was stripping you of your freedom as a person without your okaying it first. 

This was unfair. This was sickening. This was… this was… this was the life you were born into. This was the responsibility you would have to bear at one point or another. So despite the burning rage in the pits of your stomach, you sighed and pressed your brother into a tight hug.

“I understand, Vil. I’m not angry with you,” you lied, voice sweet as honey.

You’ve become quite good at lying.

He pulled away, standing and recomposing himself fully before cusping your face in his hands again. He seemed to be going through a million different emotions at once, but the most obvious seemed to be guilt. He truly did mean only the best for you. 

“I must go, I am very busy with planning,” he stated suddenly, turning for the door, “I will see you tonight, the handmaids will be back to tend to your hair soon.”

With a final, graceful wave, he was gone and you were alone. Alone to sit with the thoughts that he had forced into your head. Alone, knowing that the freedom you longed for would forever be out of your grasp.

You looked to the forest for an answer, but it remained silent.

·┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆·

The party was in full swing now. The cacophony of people chattering amongst themselves and the whining sounds of the orchestra’s strings were giving you a headache. Looking at the swirling colors of horrendous dresses and suits – far too ornate and gaudy – only seemed to further the ache in the back of your skull.

You sighed, massaging your temples for the millionth time tonight. This wouldn’t be so bad if you could get up and drink and let loose like your guests, but as the princess, you had to keep appearances. Regardless, this stupid corset and dress hardly allowed any freedom of movement, so dancing wasn’t exactly an option.

Your brother seemed pleased with you, though, with a pleasant smile on his face each time he locked eyes with you from his place in the crowd. He was allowed to mingle, but not you. You were far too important for such a thing. 

Sigh. Keeping Vil happy was far more important than pretending to enjoy the company of your party guests, you supposed. Still, you were quite jealous of your brother's freedom to move around and do as he pleased.

You scanned the crowd, taking note of the more important people among the average attendees. Leona Kingscholar was likely the most notable, being the prince of one of the largest kingdoms in all of Twisted Wonderland. While he wasn’t a direct heir to the throne, the power he held as second in line – technically third if their kingdom dared to crown such a young child as king – was substantial. He had quite an air about him. You were intrigued, but he scowled every time he looked your way, so the sentiment was not shared.

Riddle Rosehearts, the son of the neighboring kingdom's governess. You never liked his mother, she was controlling with quite the temper. Riddle only seemed to be the same, with a fiery temper worse than Vil’s own. He was quite a stickler for the rules, making him a perfect candidate to take a spot in his country's cabinet as soon as possible. He was already working as an intern below his mother, so it was only a matter of time before he worked his way to higher power. How terrifying for his people.

Kalim Al-Asim was, perhaps, the only aristocrat you liked at this god-forsaken party, alongside his right-hand Jamil Viper. An heir to an extremely successful oil company, he was the second closest thing to royalty that one man could possibly be. He had a bright smile on his face every moment, and it seemed to catch on with the other party-goers. Every time he looked up to you, he gave you an excited wave that almost made the corset worth wearing. 

There were other notable men, such as Azul Ashengrotto who was the head of – what you assumed to be – a very successful business of sorts. You weren’t sure of what it was, but you knew it wasn’t completely legal. Idia Shroud was also among the men in the crowd, though he seemed like he’d rather be dead than be here. You could not blame him. He was a known shut-in, and rather unpleasant to talk to. Still, he had the power to inherit from his family, earning him a spot among the elite.

You could tell detailed accounts of every single person in this ballroom's life, even the more average citizens that were allowed in. That aristocrat recently cheated on his wife, causing her to leave him with half the fortune and their three children. That woman in the glittering green dress was a known harlot, sleeping around with any man or woman she could just for fun. You respected her for her freedom and for scheming her way into the pockets of the ultra-wealthy.

That one handled finances, those two over there were distant cousins of the crown in a neighboring kingdom, and that blonde man… Who was that blonde man? You’d… never seen him before, but he was captivating in a way you’d not expected. 

His straight-cut blond hair was hidden beneath a most peculiar hat. He had sharp green eyes that seemed to stare straight into your soul. His dress was far more humble than the other nobles. A simple suit with pretty purple accents to respect the crown. 

He locked eyes with you for a moment, smirking to himself as if he had found you amusing. Your heart fluttered in your chest as he winked at you, and then… he disappeared behind a pillar. You searched around for him frantically, but he was gone for good, it seemed.

You frowned, slumping down onto your throne, tossing your head back in defeat. Now that the only interesting person here was gone, you would be stuck in this very uncomfortable seat for at least another three hours with nothing to do. You might as well get comfortable. 

Suddenly, however, a voice cleared in front of you, interrupting your wallowing. You raise your head with a scowl, only to jolt up at the scariest sight known to man. Your brother, arms crossed with a stern glare, and next to him two of the most powerful men in all of Twisted Wonderland.

When had they even begun heading up here, while you were lost searching for your mysterious Romeo?

Malleus Draconia, and next to him was his right hand Lilia Vanrouge. Malleus was tall, dark, and horrifying to be in the presence of. One of the most powerful mages in the whole world, and the heir to the strongest kingdom known among your circle of aristocrats. He always looked as stony as the position he held, and being up close was far worse.

Lilia, while far more inviting than his master, was not someone to be taken lightly. He was an impressive magician with skills rivaling most of his peers – he was also the man who taught Malleus everything he knew. Not only this, but he was a renowned general and caused the devastation of thousands of human lives. 

Their kingdom had just recently joined the united front that your own was a part of, leaving only the notoriously reclusive Nobel Bell as the last independent kingdom yet to join. Supposedly they were trying to introduce Fae to human society, as they’d been living in fear since the great war ended. This was the first big human celebration Malleus had been to since the agreement went through. Perhaps that was why your brother brought him to meet you personally. 

Surely, that was it.

You stood, smiling at the pair with a small curtsey out of respect – your brother nodded his approval. 

“Vil, who might these two lovely people be?” you asked, feigning ignorance though you had no reason to. Everyone who was anyone could recognize these two without thought. 

“This is Prince Malleus of The Valley of Thorns, and his courtier Lilia Vanrouge,” Vil introduced, seemingly a bit unnerved – quite unlike him.

You introduced yourself in kind, curtseying again to show your respect, less Vill feed you to the dogs tonight. “It’s a pleasure to meet you both, especially since you came so far just to see me on my birthday.”

“A birthday is an important event,” Malleus states matter-of-factly, voice deep and smooth as chocolate. 

“I suppose you are correct, Your Highness. Still, it is quite a ways to travel and I am honored that you would make yourself a guest for my birthday party,” you responded, proper and elegant as you had been trained.

“Of course, I would come, you are my future partner, after all,” Malleus states, again, as if it is fact. 

This time, however, you break your perfect facade with a furrow of your brow. Your hands place themselves sturdily on your hips and you tilt your head to the side in confusion.

“I’m sorry, I beg your pardon, Your Majesty?”

Before he can speak, Lilia inserts himself, “Nothing is for certain, he is just one of the many lucky men who have been allowed a try at your hand.”

You try and steel yourself, but all you can manage is to straighten your back and scowl at your idiot brother. “I see, well, I’m sorry Prince Draconia, but you’ll have to work harder than that if you want my hand.” You stand from your seat, head as high as you can get it, “I am not a toy to be played with, I am a Princess and I expect to be treated as more than an object for you,” you turn to the crowd, which was gawking at your display already, “or any other man here’s liking!”

“Princess-” Vil tries, but you are already beginning to leave the situation. This party was simply a ruse to sell you off to the highest bidder, and you wanted no part in the auction. 

You don’t allow yourself to hear Malleus’ response, and you certainly do not allow Vil to stop you from leaving. Perhaps you were throwing a tantrum, maybe you were being childish, but you felt violated. You wanted to be anywhere but near any of those men at this moment. 

No one dared to stop the angry princess from storming out of her own party, not even the guards assigned to keep her there.

·┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆·

The moment you got to your room you ripped the stupid dress off your body. Layer after layer, string after string was hastily removed until you could finally see your arms and legs again. Next would have been your corset, if you could reach the damn knot those stupid handmaids had tied. 

You struggled for what felt like an eternity until you could not stand, and fell into a sobbing heap upon your bed, hardly able to breathe through your tears.

“Stupid party, stupid dress, stupid corset,” you cried, “stupid, evil brother.”

A knock sounded at the door, and you curled into yourself as much as you could. You didn’t want to talk to anyone at the moment – let alone your brother. You could hear his scoldings enough in your head already, you didn’t need anymore.

You heard the door creak open, and you covered your ears, waiting for an onslaught of insults and anger. Instead, you were greeted by a gentle hand on your arm. You sniffled, slowly unwinding yourself to look at who it was – surprised to see Epel. 

He’d never entered without an invitation before.

“Before ya yell at me, I jus’ figured ya needed a pal,” he said gently, rubbing your shoulder in small soothing motions.

“Wh-what about Vil…?” you manage to mumble out as your tears begin to subside.

“Too busy tryin’ ta keep face, so we can jus’ talk like normal.”

You nod, and Epel helps you to sit up properly, keeping a steady hand on you at all times. This was, perhaps, the most kindness you’d ever felt from a person in your whole life. Your brother was often cold and distant, even when he was reassuring you. Epel was always warm and inviting. You were glad to have him as a friend here.

He eased you to your feet, and from there he helped you out of your corset and into far more breathable clothing – your hunting clothes, from when you were younger. They were a bit too small now, but Epel still complimented your appearance as if you were in that same ballgown.

“Thank you Epel,” you sighed out, “did you…”

“Hear yer whole speech? Yeah, me and the whole party.” He laughed, giving you a comforting pat on the back.

You groaned, burying your head in your hands. Vil would never let you hear the end of it, your life and status was ruined – all because you couldn't control yourself. You were not made to be.

“Hey, hey, don’ cry ya hear,” Epel soothed, “most of the guests found it funny, ‘specially that one Lion guy whose always mean ta ya.”

“Leona found it funny?” you asked from behind your hands.

“He was hootin’ and hollerin’ like it was the funniest thing he’d ever seen!”

You laughed a little, the image of a smiley Leona Kingscholar being enough to cheer you up. You smoothed over your ruined hair, looking into the body-length mirror across the room. You looked like a disaster, with clothes far too small for you and hair still half up and frizzy. You looked like you, and it made you smile.

“Thank you for helping me Epel, you are a good friend,” you said gently, taking his hands into yours.

“Maybe we should ask Vil if ya can marry me, then ya wo’ have’ta deal with all this mess.” He joked with a devious laugh.

You blanched, pulling away as fast as you could. That only served to make him laugh harder, nearly doubling over onto the floor. You couldn’t help but join him after a point, and you could hardly remember what had made you so upset in the first place.

Once the both of you settled, Epel turned to you with a more serious face. You squinted at him, knowing whatever idea he was about to voice would be incredibly idiotic. Still, his stupid plans were always the most fun.

“Yer all dressed up fer it, so why don’ we do a bit of hunting,” he proposed.

You raised your eyebrows, as if to challenge him, though you both know he had already won you over. “What about Vil, he’ll surely be looking for me in a short while.”

“He’s busy tryin’ ta fix the mess ya made – c’mon, you already said ya would.”

You feigned conflict for a moment, closing your eyes and placing a hand on your chin. You could feel Epel’s nervous squirming next to you, and you grinned wide and bright. “How could I possibly say no?”

“I’ll get ma knives,” he said, practically scuttling out the door, “Meet me at the fountain out back, I’ll be real quick!”

·┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆·

You’d never felt this free. Not since before your parents passed, at least. The wind, the dirt, the trees – you missed it all so much. You spun around, laughing as you did so, earning yourself a side eye from Epel.

You didn’t care, though, letting out a big sigh of relief, “How I missed this place!” 

You blew kisses to the sky, the trees, the ground, the animals, even to Epel. You didn’t realize how badly you wanted this until you were here.

“Be quiet ‘nd stop movin’ so much, yer gonna scare off all the animals,” Epel scolded.

“Okay, Vil.”

“Hey!”

You laughed, bounding ahead without a care in the world. You hadn’t been to your usual hunting spot in a while, you wondered if it had changed much. If Epel even went to it without you, or if he had his own spot away from it. 

Caught up in your high of temporary freedom, you almost missed a blur in the side of your vision. Too large to be any animal from this forest. Your head shot to the side, moving to draw a bow.

“What, what did’ja see,” Epel asked, and you were quick to shush him.

Drawing your bow, you watched the landscape with a careful eye, waiting for any subtle movement. You looked for any sound, any smell that could give away this mystery creature's position. You narrowed your eyes, focusing on where you first saw the figure, and… AHA! You fired your arrow, hitting your target head-on.

Both you and Epel scrambled over to see what you hit. Your heart was racing – what if it wasn’t just an animal, what then? You took a deep breath and pulled back the bushes to reveal… a deer. A buck, to be precise. You sighed.

“Just a deer.”

“All that tension for nothin’, you gotta stop scarin’ me like that.”

“Sorry Epel, I thought it was something else.”

“Whatever, jus’ relax, ‘kay?”

Little did either of you know, there was something – someone lurking in the darkness. Sharp green eyes follow your every movement with the same curiosity you watched them with earlier.

·┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆·

It had been more than a few hours since you arrived at your designated hunting spot – still the same as you remembered it. The two of you had gotten yourself a good hunt; a vast collection of little critters native to these pretty forests. The butcher in town would have an influx of goods soon enough. 

Vil was, no doubt, already looking for you. You were sure he was assembling a guard at this very moment to come and find you, but you couldn’t care less. You had earned this little rebellion, no matter what he thought of it. Still, you couldn’t help the little ache in your chest telling you that what you were doing was cruel in an unimaginable way.

You hummed, sitting yourself down on a stump, neatly setting your bow and quiver next to you. Epel joined you with a curious raise of his brow, throwing his equipment off. You leaned onto his shoulder, smiling up at him. He smiled back, resting his head against yours.

He was more like a brother to you than your brother was. You don’t know what you’d do without him.

“Vil’s gonna kill me when we get back,” you sighed, feeling all the energy from before leaving your body.

Reality had to creep back in at some point, you just wished that it wasn’t so damn soon. You could spend a few more weeks out here with Epel. It was so peaceful, so calm, and everything you had missed so desperately since your parents passing.

“He’s gonna kill me more than you, ‘f it makes ya feel better,” Epel joked, trying his best to lift the mood.

You sighed, “What if we didn’t go back, then neither of us would die and we could stay out here forever.”

“Even ‘f we could, yer running out’ve arrows, and it won’ be any fun if you can’t hunt.”

You hopped to your feet, groaning as your feet ached in protest. You hadn’t noticed how tense your body had become from all your activity tonight. That's what you get for not being allowed to do any physical labor. You stretched your arms high above your head, twisting this way and that to ease the pain when you saw something. 

This time it was much bigger than the buck before. You tensed, turning to Epel, who had also noticed – if the look on his face was any indicator. Carefully, he crept toward his discarded equipment, to not catch the giant things' attention. He handed you your bow and quiver, though you were quickly running out of arrows to defend yourself with. 

A rustle sounded in front of the clearing, and the smell of this thing hit you all at once. The air in your little self-made clearing had become thick and heavy with ink. The kind you had back in your study, but the smell was suffocating. You placed part of your cape over your mouth to filter it a bit, but the smell persisted as strong as ever.

“What do you think it is,” you whisper to Epel, who seems to be doing just as bad as you are.

“Not sure, but I ain’t smelled somethin’ like this in my whole life.”

You nodded. You had no idea what this thing was – too big to be any animal you know. Most certainly not a human, so no worries about Vil’s guards. The size wasn’t what scared you, but the smell. An unknown animal that smelled like ink… unheard of.

The closer the thing came, the worse the smell got and the louder its movements became until you were sure it was right outside the clearing. You and Epel could try to run, but you had no idea how fast or smart this thing was – running could be a worse choice than staying and fighting it.

You looked to Epel, and he narrowed his eyebrows as if to ask if you were with him or not. With a deep breath, you drew an arrow out of the quiver, set it, and aimed right at where the large shadow loomed. You exhaled as you let the bow fly through the air, successfully hitting your target. 

It let out the most horrific, gurgling scream you had ever heard in your life – confirming that it was not an animal, but something far worse. It emerged from its hiding place.

This thing was nearly three men taller than you and covered in this thick, black, dripping ink. Worse yet, it had no face, just a glass jar oozing more ink out of it. You felt your heart skip a beat, but you couldn’t panic – not now that you had its attention.

Drawing another bow, you shouted at Epel, “Run back to the castle and find someone to help.”

“I am not leavin’ you here!”

“And I’m not accepting that answer. I’m more skilled than you in combat, and you’re faster on your feet than I am. You can get there faster than I ever could, and you could save me if you’re fast enough.” You said as you began to make distance with the monster. It was slow enough that you could move, but not so much that you could take your eyes off it.

“What– I can’t–”

“Epel, as your Princess I am ordering you to do this. Please.” 

He didn’t respond for a long moment, and you were afraid he would disobey you. He muttered something angrily, and without another word, carefully crept away into the woods. The creature turned to where his footsteps fell, beginning to slump toward him – surprisingly fast for its size. You drew another arrow, shooting it on its right side, and watching as the arrow slowly sunk into its inky surface. 

It turned in your direction, gurgling as it charged forward blindly. You scrambled back, almost losing your balance more than a few times – you were too rusty to be in such a risky position. You charged deeper into the forest as fast as you could, peeking over your shoulder to ensure it was far enough away from you at all times. 

You didn’t have time to find high ground, so you settled on hopping from bush to bush and tree to tree. You hit it multiple times successfully, but it only served to make it even more angry with you. Its ink was impervious to human weapons.

Settling behind a tree, you reached up into your quiver to grab another arrow. Shit. Only two arrows left, not that they would’ve done you much good, but they were your last line of defense. You realize, now that you can’t turn back, that you should’ve gone with Epel.

Shaking your head, you knew you couldn’t give up just yet. You couldn’t die here, for your brother's sake. You took a deep breath, placing a hand over your racing heart. Calm, you thought, calm like a princess, think like a princess. 

Okay. This thing didn’t seem to be able to see you, but it could hear – or maybe it was vibrations, but it seemingly could find you based solely on that. Hitting it’s body didn’t work, but you hadn’t thought to try for the “head” yet. If you could shatter the glass, maybe that could stop it. 

The glass jar was small and hard to make out beneath the ink and the dark of night, but you could estimate where to hit based on what you saw earlier. With only two arrows left, you had to be smart and swift, lest this thing make you its next meal – if it ate, that is.

You swallowed, plucking your second to last arrow from the quiver and drawing it in your bow. Peaking around the tree, you lined up the shot just right, then sent the arrow hurling across the forest. It hit with a satisfying ‘crack’, and you’d hit your target dead on. 

For extra measure, you took your last bow and drew it, aiming toward the beast and shooting the glass head once more. Another ‘crack’ and a few ‘thumps’ as thick pieces of its head fell to the ground. It remained unmoving in front of you, and you watched it with careful anticipation.

When it did not move again, you sighed, sinking to the floor in relief, holding your head in your hands. You had done it, you had killed the beast. You would live to see your brother, and you could not wait for his rage at your disobedience. You would take his anger over this any day.

Just then, however, you felt something in front of you. Your head shot up, and you would’ve screamed at the sight if it weren’t for the hand over your mouth.

In front of you was crouched the young man from the party, green eyes shining mischievously in front of you. He was still in his party attire, with the same goofy feathered hat as before. You narrowed your eyes at him, and he smiled leaning forward to whisper in your ear.

“Hush, Ma Belle,” he whispered, and you felt as though you might melt, “it can hear us if we’re too loud.”

You nodded, and he carefully pulled his hand away from your mouth. He, too, had a bow on his back – though his seemed to have a more magical tendency to it. You were not allowed to be around magic, thanks to the dangers it possessed, but you could recognize it easily since your father was once a talented magician and showed you all sorts of magical things.

This strange man noticed your eyes and gave you a wink. He stood to his feet, gesturing for you to stay where you were, and waltzed out in the open to the creature. You peeked out from your spot, watching with bated breath. 

The creature was twitching, its inky mass bubbling in a disgusting display. You had done quite a bit of damage to it, but not enough to kill it. The man, seemingly unphased by this sight, drew his arrow – infused with a glowing red magic – and shot it. The second it hit the monster, the ink began to boil and slowly slough off until there was nothing left but broken glass.

The man approached it, picking up a piece of glass and putting it in an inner jacket pocket. He turned to look at you, gesturing you forward with a come hither motion. Stunned, and unable to fully comprehend what had just happened, you stumbled forward as he wanted. You stopped awkwardly at his side, losing all sense of refinement and grace from before.

The man stood, fully addressing you now.

“You are a talented huntsman,” he said, voice silky smooth making you melt from the inside.

“Ah- uhm, ahem, thank you,” you paused, then quickly added, “You- you are as well, sir.”

He grinned, seemingly happy that you noticed, “Do you know what that creature you just fought was?”

“Uhm… I think I’ve heard of it in fairy tales, but those are just…”

“Scary stories to keep cute little things like yourself safe?”

You frowned, “I am not little, you were at my party earlier, were you not? You should be speaking to me with respect.”

“My apologies Your Majesty,” he bowed deeply, “you are cute though.”

You huffed, feeling your face warm at the compliment. The audacity of this strange man to speak to you like this. You… quite liked it.

“Just tell me what that thing was, and I won’t have you charged with harassment,” you threatened emptily.

He hummed, “If you must know, that was a phantom – the remnants of a magician who died from blot.”

You gasped. Blot was only in the fairy tales your mother would tell you… but so was that monster. Seeming to understand your confusion, the man pats you on the head.

“A sheltered princess is not expected to know so much about the world around them, do not worry Ma Belle,” he eased.

You had a million questions. Why was that thing in your forest? How could something like this possibly happen? Was Vil aware of these things? Why did he not tell you about them? Was this why you weren’t allowed in the forest? Most importantly, who was this mysterious savior of yours?

Before you could ask anything, however, the sounds of shouting came from somewhere further out. The man seemed to consider it, smiling a knowing smile, and then turned to you again. He took your hand, placing a kiss on its top.

“That is my sign to take my leave,” he stated simply, “do watch your back, princess. There are those in this world who wish you harm, and we could not have a pretty thing like you getting hurt, hmm?”

You swallowed thickly, feeling your face heating up at his words and a million more questions filled your head. You gaped at him, unsure of how to respond to what he said, completely captivated by his words.

He chuckled, eyes squinting in a beautiful way as he did so. He seemed to ponder something for a moment, despite his supposed need to leave. He placed a hand on the brim of his hat, smoothing it over, and his face lit up with delight. Seems he had found the answer, taking his hat off and placing it firmly on your head.

“An excuse to see you once more, Ma Belle,” and with a flourish of his hand, he was off into the darkness.

As the voices came closer and closer, you could not peel your eyes off of where he came from. Who was that mysterious stranger, and why did he make your heart pound so hard?

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #x reader #bunni's treats 🧁 #rook hunt x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #epel felmier x reader #epel felmier #vil schoenheit #rook hunt #malleus draconia x reader #malleus draconia #lilia vanrouge #leona kingscholar #riddle rosehearts #kalim al asim #idia shroud #azul ashengrotto

[itsmariejanel]

78. best friend

previous [.beginning.] next > transcript under the cut

Jace - Evanora!! There you are! Evanora - Jace! You startled me- Jace - Girl, where did you get that cigarette?  Evanora - … Jace - No actually, why are you smoking?  Evanora - Hey! You smoke! Jace - Not the point, not my question, miss Cordova!  Evanora - I- Nickelback! Jace - Wait, the band or the safe word?  Evanora - Huh? The safe word of course... Why would I even use it in any other wayyyy- Jace - Alrightttt, we’re gonna sit and you’re gonna tell me what’s happening-

Jace - Eva… Did something happen? Do you not wanna get married anymore? Evanora - Of course I wanna get married!! Grace is the love of my life and I wanna spend the rest of my days with her… I do! It’s just… Evanora - Jacey, I’m exhausted… The visions have been a lot lately and they’re quite… irregular? sometimes! So uhm, I’m just trying to manage all these feelings that I have right now, you know? About the future that lies ahead- And, like always, I can’t talk about it…But yeah i’m… Overwhelmed! Jace - Your type of power is a lot to deal with. You are one of a kind, literally. There is no one like you and there hasn’t been in centuries-Evanora - Jaaaaace!! I thought you were trying to help me instead of overwhelming me more?  Jace - [ smiles ] Stop being a baby and hear me out!! The thing is, you are the strongest of them all, in every way, and I see that right now that even in your pain, you tell me you can’t talk about it… I mean, you don’t break, ever- Breaking is okay, you know? Not saying you should break your Oath, but you gotta give yourself the grace to feel weak sometimes, it’s okay. It’s natural, it’s human… But we’re all here for you! You’re not alone in this and you’ve never been. I know I’m far away now, but you’re my best friend, and that will never change Eva! There’s not one thing I wouldn’t do for you, you know that right?  Evanora - Jace… 

Jace - Alright, makeup is fixed, dress isn’t burnt-  Are you ready? Evanora - Wait… Evanora - Alrighty, we’re ready!!  Jace - Wait a minute, where was the little devil all this time? Evanora - You should already know, he’s always lurking- Zeus - * purrs *

#QUEUE THE WEDDINGGGGG #love a good childhood friendship <333 eva is so overwhelmed she doesn't even know what to say AAAAAAAAA #mp #contagiouschemistry #ts4 story #ts4 #the sims 4 #sims 4 story #simblr #henford on bagley #jace thrasher #evanora cordova #zeus

[coneyislandbabey]

(i'll never be) your beast of burden. -> e. roundtree

WARNINGS: just some profanity, based off the rolling stones song 'beast of burden' which i think is maybe the most eddie song there is

SYNOPSIS: The push and pull between you and Eddie Roundtree was never-ending. No matter how hard you tried to push him away, you always came back together. This is the first part of a new eddie series that I think will be three parts! word count: 2,632

Pittsburgh, 1967

You shook out your hands, bouncing on the balls of your feet and trying to calm your nerves. You were standing outside Graham Dunne’s garage, the strap of your bass slung across your shoulder, trying to pretend that you didn’t actually care how this all turned out. Eddie Roundtree had approached you at your job the afternoon before, telling you about the band he was in and how they needed a bassist, rounding out the conversation by asking you to come by and play something. You didn’t even know how Eddie knew you played bass; sure, you’d gone to school together for most of your lives, but you had never been close, or even really spoken much outside of the occasional conversation in class. You didn’t dwell on it though– you had been knocking around the idea of starting a band or trying to find one to join for a while now, and now the opportunity you had been looking for had fallen right into your lap. You told him you’d stop by. 

“Just trust me on this one, okay?” you heard Eddie’s voice, muffled and distant, from inside the garage. They didn’t know you had arrived yet, and you took a minute to idle outside to hear what they were saying. 

“Alright, but I mean, I’ve never heard her play. I didn’t even know she played an instrument at all,” a different voice piped up. You placed it as Billy Dunne. You didn’t know him personally, but you and Graham used to do homework together at his house in grade school since you lived just up the street, and Billy was always lurking around. 

“Well she’s coming today so you could hear her play,” Eddie responded indignantly. “She’s good. I’ve heard her down at Music Barn, testing out different basses.” 

You raised your brows. So that was how Eddie knew about your bass playing. You were at Music Barn, the music store in the neighborhood, all the time, and now that you thought about it, you remembered seeing Eddie there a few times, checking out guitars or records. Taking a deep breath, you walked forward, deciding it was time to make your presence known. 

“Hey, guys,” you smiled, coming around the mouth of the garage. Eddie, who had his back to you, turned and smiled, as did Graham and Warren. Billy, standing in the center of the floor, merely fixed you with an appraising frown. 

“Hey, (y/n)! Glad you came,” Eddie said. “So, I told you about it yesterday, but let me give you a run-down. Billy’s our frontman, Graham’s on lead guitar, I’m on rhythm guitar, and Warren back there is on drums.”

“Cool,” you nodded, looking at each of them as Eddie introduced their roles. “So, you’re looking for a bassist?” 

“Maybe,” Billy cut in, before Eddie could respond. “We just wanna hear you play today. See what you can do.”

You shrugged, getting yourself ready to play. “Not much of a band without a bassist.” 

Warren snickered from behind the drum kit, and tried to hide it by turning it into a cough. You smiled to yourself, before blanking your face to look over at Billy. His expression towards you had grown slightly more hostile. “Can I play now?” 

“Floor’s yours,” Billy said, stepping back to give you some room. You had decided on playing Sunshine of Your Love, off Cream’s new album. It was what you had been working on learning anyway before Eddie asked you to come play for them, and you spent all of the night before polishing it up. 

Despite your anxieties, you played the whole song flawlessly. The further you got into it, the more everything dropped away, until it was as if it was just you, standing alone in the garage, playing your heart out to a familiar song that you loved. You could feel it in your very bones, at the end, that you had killed it. There was no way those boys could be anything but blown away. When you opened your eyes, you saw all four of them staring at you, and you smirked, reveling in the success. 

Billy cleared his throat. “Okay, do you mind if the four of us talk alone?”

“Sure thing, I’ll be out there,” you said, backing out of the garage. You went to sit on the back stoop of the Dunne house, pulling a cigarette from the carton in your jacket pocket and lighting it. You forced your mind to focus on anything but the band huddle happening thirty feet away from you; it would do you no good to start getting anxious all over again. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Billy strolled out of the garage, followed by the rest of the band. 

“Okay,” he said, coming to a stop in front of where you were sitting. “You’re in– on a trial basis. We’ve got a few gigs coming up, so we’ll see how you do.”

You stood up and nodded, offering your hand for the taller man to shake. “Thanks, Dunne.” 

***

You were standing in the kitchen chopping vegetables for dinner when the phone rang. Quickly, you slid across the room to turn the radio on the counter down, before pulling the phone off the hook and nestling it between your head and shoulder, resuming your chopping. 

“Hello?”

“Hey, (y/n), it’s Eddie,” the boy’s smooth voice filled your ear. “Billy asked me to get you familiar with our songs before the gig on Saturday. You free any time before then that we can get together?”

“Yeah, sure,” you nodded. “I’ll be home tomorrow by seven. Bring you and your guitar over my place?” 

“Alright, see you then.”

Eddie turned up at your house five minutes after seven, guitar slung over his shoulder and a smile on his face. You had been idling in the living room since you got home, practically hovering by the door so you could make sure none of your other family members could answer it before you got there. 

“Hey,” you smiled, stepping out onto the front stoop and closing the door behind you. “We’re gonna go ‘round back to the garage, a’right?” 

“Sure, sure,” Eddie nodded, following you down the driveway and toward the small garage where you always practiced your music. Nobody else used it, and you had transformed the cold, concrete room into a place of your own. Colorful Christmas lights were strung up all around, an old oriental rug that used to be in your dining room covering most of the floor, a ratty leather couch you had bought at the thrift for twenty bucks shoved off to one side. You had a minifridge stocked with iced teas and Cokes, and a tiny bookshelf full of your favorite novels in the corner. Truthfully, you spent more time out here than in your own bedroom when you were home. 

You lifted the garage door, and Eddie stood in front of the scene, taking it all in. He whistled, one long, low note. “This place is sick.”

“Thanks,” you laughed. “I’ve been fixing it up for myself ever since I got my job down at the bookstore. Most of my spare cash goes into it.” 

“We should move band practice here,” he joked. 

“You guys are always welcome, if Billy allows it,” you shrugged. “So, how many songs do I need to familiarize myself with before Saturday?”

“Oh, well we’ve got three originals that we usually play at gigs. Other than that, it’s just popular songs that you probably already know,” Eddie explained. He reached into his jacket pocket and took out a little leather notebook, handing it to you. “This is my notebook from the last few weeks. I’ve been playing bass since we lost Chuck, so I wrote out all the notations and stuff. But you can have it now.” 

You accepted the notebook from him, opening the cover and flipping through the pages. Only the first third were filled, plenty of room for you to add your own notations for these or further songs. Eddie’s handwriting was quick and spidery, cramping page after page. It looked like him, you thought. “Thanks, Ed. We’ll get started then?” 

Eddie got right to it. He had a productive process for teaching you, starting with playing a recording of the song, and then playing the isolated bass parts for you, before having you play it back to him. Any time there was a mistake, he’d stop you gently and point it out, showing you the exact positioning of his fingers on the frets or playing the same part over and over for you patiently until you nailed it. You liked that about him, the way he was so driven and focused, yet so patient with you as you learned. 

The hours flew by, but you hardly noticed. Before you knew it, it was nearing midnight, and you had gotten through two songs already. Eddie didn’t seem tired, and you weren’t either, so you started in on the last one. As usual, he played the recording for you, and then did the isolated bass part himself, before it was time for you to try. 

You started on your first attempt, and were mostly successful, until somewhere in the middle when you missed a note in a faster section. You tried again, and made the same mistake. Seeing that you were getting increasingly frustrated with yourself, Eddie stepped closer to you, placing a hand on the body of your bass to get you to stop playing. 

“Can I show you?” he asked, and you nodded. Eddie took your hand in his, manually positioning your fingers on the frets. “There’s the note before it, and then…” he started, moving your fingers slightly, “there’s the note you keep missing. The tempo’s a little tricky there, but you’ll get it.”

You nodded distractedly, staring down at the position of your fingers on the bass, trying to commit the position to memory so you could get it right the next time, but all you could think about was how warm Eddie’s hand was, closed around your own. You looked up and he was still right there, so close to you, breathing your air. His eyes bore down into your own, and all you could think was that they were the perfect shade of brown, beautiful, even, with the reflection of your colorful lights dancing in them. 

You cleared your throat, taking a small step backwards and trying to refocus yourself on the task at hand. You didn’t know when Eddie had gone from a classmate, an acquaintance at best, to someone whose pretty eyes and warm hands made your chest tight, but it was distracting, and distractions were not something you could afford at the moment. You were only in the band on a trial basis, as Billy had emphasized several times since you first played for them, and you needed to work your ass off to show them that you were worthy of becoming a permanent fixture. Developing a stupid crush on the rhythm guitarist was not going to help that, and honestly, it was a little pathetic. 

Eddie blinked as if coming out of a trance, and took a small step backwards himself, putting a little more room between the two of you. You missed the warm weight of his hand on yours. “Okay, let’s hear it again.” 

You nodded, closing your eyes for a moment and recentering yourself, before starting in on the song again. This time, you hit the troublesome note perfectly, and had to suppress yourself from celebrating until you made it all the way to the end of the song. Eddie was beaming at you when you finished, pride in his eyes. 

***

Saturday had come faster than the speed of light, and you hated to admit it, but you were dreading your first gig with the Dunne Brothers. You had spent every waking moment in the last few days practicing what you had learned with Eddie, and you were sure you had it down, but the pressure was on. You needed to be perfect, needed to show them that you were the right fit for the band. The thought of the possibility that Billy could reject you after this was stomach-turning. 

You did your best to cover up the anxiety. You dressed in your favorite pair of jeans and a crotchet top, your hair done up nicely and a minimum amount of makeup on, trying to find a good balance between looking your best but still being taken seriously by the guys. 

The guys came by in the van and you piled into the back, cradling your guitar case to your torso and doing your best to look nonchalant and relaxed. Eddie was looking over at you, an amused look on his face. 

“What?” you asked, tilting your head at him. 

“You okay?” 

“I’m fantastic, Roundtree, absolutely perfect. Why do you ask?” At this, Eddie raised an eyebrow, even more outwardly amused with you. 

“If you say so,” he said, hands raised in surrender. After a few moments of quiet, the only noises filling the air being the radio and Warren tapping his drumsticks on the back of the seat in front of him along to the song, he spoke up again. “You’re going to be great, man. You nailed all the songs we worked on in one night, and I know you’ve only gotten better since then.” 

You sighed, feeling some of the anxiety come loose in your chest. “I hope so.”

Eddie was right, of course. You played through the whole setlist flawlessly. After the first song, you finally began to loosen up and enjoy yourself, and by the time the gig was over, you never wanted to leave the stage. This was it; this was the reason you had wanted to join a band in the first place. The rush of energy up your spine at the sheer amount of attention on you, feeling the music physically move through your bones and muscles. Now you knew for sure that there was nothing better in the world. 

When you got backstage, you shoved your bass into its case and, without thinking, threw yourself into Eddie’s arms, your own winding around his neck. He was momentarily surprised, but his arms immediately wound tightly around your waist, squeezing you to him so tightly that your feet left the ground. When he put you down, you stared up at him, beaming. 

“I was fucking great! We were fucking great!” you shouted, and Eddie’s smile broadened at that. “I just– thank you, Eddie. For teaching me the songs the way you did. For getting me here.” 

You could’ve sworn there was a light dusting of red on his cheeks at your words. “It was nothing, (y/n). You belong here, you just proved that much on stage.” 

Billy walked over to you both, and to your surprise, there was a smile on his face. You turned your attention fully to him, trying to tamp down the anxiety that was seeping through your euphoria. This was it, the make or break moment. You could tell from one look at his face that Billy had already decided whether you’d permanently be joining the Dunne Brothers. 

“You were great out there, (y/n),” he said, and your smile broadened. “We’d all be very happy if you decided to really join us.”

“You’re offering me a permanent spot as your bassist?” you clarified. 

“If you want it? Hell yeah,” Billy said. 

“Abso-fucking-lutely I do,” you grinned, once again sticking your hand out for Billy to shake. He did, and you swore you could actually see your whole future shaping up, right there in front of you. 

tag list: @eonnyx

#daisy jones and the six #djats #eddie roundtree #eddie roundtree x reader #eddie loving #eddie loving x reader #warren rhodes #warren rojas #billy dunne #graham dunne #karen sirko #karen karen #camila dunne #julia dunne #daisy jones

[in1-nutshell]

Your last stuff with teen buddy resonated with me deeply as I too am a gremlin who seeks joy from the misfortune I bring onto others🙏🙏🙏

Idk if I’m requesting properly or whatever but could you do something with a similar reader/buddy expect they kinda like record bits and pieces of sounds/the voices of others and remix them into little songs for fun? Funny human mixtape is something came to me in a prophesied fever dream🫶

also your work is so good, I’ve been lurking around quietly for a little while and it’s SO GOOD AHHHH!!! IM SCREAMING AND JUMPING OFF THE WALLS!!!!!!!

Buddy is always a little gremlin for silly little activities, especially when it comes to their friends. Let us see how a couple of noises out of context can do to some minibots!

Hope you enjoy!

Human Buddy records out of context sounds and noises and sics them on unsuspecting bots (Tailgate, Rewind and Swerve)

SFW, platonic, Human reader

MTMTE/LL

Tailgate

Tailgate was scared when he heard the unfamiliar sound of a strange melody coming from the dark end of the Lost Lights corridor. He was just walking back from Swerve to get Cyclonus from their habsuite when he heard the noise.

Eerre noise echos through the halls

“Who’s there?!”--Tailgate

BOOM!

“AAAAAHHHHHH! CYCLONUS!”--Tailgate

“Where’s the danger!?”--Cyclonus

“Ah! How did you get here?!”--Tailgate

“Enough talk Panic button! Who do I need to shoot!?”--Whirl

“How did any of you get here so fast?!”--Tailgate

Cyclonus and Whirl had materializing out of nothing ready to hurt whatever was bothering Tailgate.

Little feet are heard as the noise gets louder.

“We have you out numbered 3 to one monster!”--Whirl

“Show yourself!”--Cyclonus

“Cyclonus? Whirl? Tailgate?”--Buddy

“Buddy?! What are you doing here? There’s a monster—”--Tailgate

“Oh, no that’s just my new boombox. I got it at that flea market last stop. I’ve been trying to see how it works for about a good couple of minutes.”--Buddy

“… Can I still kill it?”--Whirl

“Whirl?!”—Buddy, Cyclonus and Tailgate

Rewind

He had a compilation of out context noises and sounds. When Buddy tells him that they have a plan to use them he is in. Together they make a little playlist of creepy noises and hook it up to the ship’s main intercom.

“You think this is a good idea?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Agreed.”

“… You want to push the button?”

“Yes, please.”

Everyone was on edge whenever a particular noise would stress. But the ship is saved by the minibot and Buddy’s moral compass.

“Alright. I think that’s enough.”--Rewind

“Yeah, it’s getting boring.”--Buddy

“You want to go find Domey for movie night?”--Rewind

“Yeah! Horror movie night!”--Buddy

Somewhere on the Lost Light

“Why am I getting the feeling that am in danger?”--Chromdome

Swerve

This one was on accident.

Buddy was trying to hear what their new compilation of eerie sound sounded like for the Halloween party.

But they just couldn’t hook up their device to their headphones.

“Hook up already!”--Buddy

Meanwhile at Swerve’s

“AAAAAHHHHHHHH!”--Swerve

What they didn’t know was that the device was instead paired with Serve’s speakers. Everyone was freaking out when the music suddenly turned into screams. Swerve, being the closest to the speaker fainted after the first few seconds.

Finally, after a bit Buddy is able to hear their playlist through their device.

“Hey guys I have the—where did everyone go?”--Buddy

Meanwhile at Rung’s there is a mile line for appointments.

Swerve is recovering in the Med bay.

And Rung now has more bots booked for an appointment and rumors fly around the ship being haunted goes around again.

#transformers #transformers x reader #idw mtmte #mtmte x reader #mtmte swerve #mtmte rewind #mtmte tailgate #maccadam #mtmte x platonic reader #human buddy

[xinmin-exe]

(Hey there. Your work is so amazing that I need MORE! :3)

How would Shigaraki and LOV react on his s/o, who is rich and caring and she bought them a house in the woods, so they can hide when the heroes are near? Would they like to go there for a vacation with her? To just chill in the nature?

(Thank you so much for your amazing work 🤍)

Hiiiiiiii I’m so honored you like my work! ☺️☺️ I hope you like this too!!

Shigaraki with Rich!Reader

Shigaraki and the League would be incredible suspicious at first

They expected you to be some rich kid who’s “rebelling from their daddy” (which dabi understood) and trying to make their family mad

Who could blame them? You came in and told them you wanted to help the cause, but you didn’t know the first thing about fighting or stealth. “My father always paid bodyguards to protect me” Frankly, Shigaraki was ready to kick you out from day 1.

But when you came back with information about the Hero Commission’s next move (unprompted I add) they were intrigued

Shigaraki realized you could get in close like they never could. You were smart, friendly, and most importantly, the daughter/son of a wealthy, influential family

He knew that he could use that to his advantage. Eventually, he began accompanying you out, wanting to make sure you weren’t double crossing them. He would stalk behind you about 10-15 feet, keeping out of your way and letting you do your work

When the two of you would return and after telling the league what you found you, you and toga and Magne would gush on and on about how attractive your date was

Spinner and dabi would gag and leave the room, Mr. Compress would chuckle and make a comment on “the good old school girl crush” behind making his exit, but not Tomura

He lurked around the bar afterwards, drinking some cocktail Kurogiri make and listening in. (Yes I headcanon Tomura as a cocktail man, don’t come at me)

It irritated him endlessly how much you talked about your date, going on for hours about how you enjoyed it

His hands would twitch and he could feel the need to dust someone increase exponentially. He decided to not stay around afterwards anymore, but the feeling never went away

He thought it was just his annoyance of gossip, but even when he wasn’t there, the feeling lingered.

Long story short, one night Tomura dusted your date immediately after you ended the night and confessed (stuttering and scratching his neck while doing so)

But after confessing to you, the young leader became.. less of as asshole and more.. mature

By that point, you had settled into being a part of the LoV and everyone had taken quite a liking to you (even dabi if you can believe it)

Things only got better for the league when you were able to steal money from your father and buy them a much better, bigger hideout.

“My father had millions upon millions of yen, he’s not gonna notice if a few million go missing”

It was an old, a banded building on the outskirts of town. With a kitchen, multiple bedrooms and bathrooms, and even a basement that the LoV converted into a training area.

While they kept using the bar as their main HQ, most of the time if someone wasn’t on a mission, they could be found in the building you bought

They even named the building “Y/N’s Mansion” (spinner came up with the name)

The Relationship

Tomura’s relationship with you was, frankly, the best thing to happen to the league

Even though sometimes he still got annoyed with how privileged you seemed, he never really could bring himself to hate you

You were always kind and generous, never really thinking about yourself

You always made sure to be ready with the first aid kit when anyone came back from missions and you always made an effort to learn about each one of them

The first time Tomura let you touch his skin, you were so delicate and soft. Treating him like a glass figure, careful not to break him

Before you, he had never been shown such tenderness, it was a new sensation for him that he swears he will never get used to it

He wanted to show you the same thing, so he forced Dabi to go out and steal some artist. gloves for him

Your skin felt so.. delicate underneath his rough palm that he almost convinced himself that you were a real angel

You were still naive to the way of the world, but Tomura wanted to keep it that way

He was like your scary dog privileges and "barked" at anyone who even looked at you wrong

A guy stared too long at the connivence story? Dusted later that night

Someone made an unwanted advance at a bar or club? They suddenly go missing a few minutes later

Dabi makes some snide comment about you? Tomura is up in his face, glaring and threatening him (Kurogiri has had to break up too many confrontations)

Overall, Tomura may have been suspicious of you but in reality you have become the single, most important thing in his life

#boku no hero academia #mha #shigaraki #shigaraki tomura #shigaraki x reader #reader insert #x reader #tomura x reader #tomura shiragaki #mha tomura #bnha tomura #shimura tenko #league of villains #my hero academia #bnha