#maybe this is why I stopped writing for a decade

[dreamsinmoonlight]

I have a yandere alastor idea for you... Could you do it? Imagine the reader being one of the unfortunate people who was killed by the alastor when he was human... Human! Alastor never felt these strong feelings for anyone, until the reader appeared in his life, the reader was a kind and caring person with everyone, always treating everyone the same... Now I imagine when Alastor discovered that these feelings were love for the reader, but the reader rejected him because he already loved other people... Maybe Alastor, in his desperate and psychotic environment, unintentionally killed the reader...

(now currently) the reader became an angel and was chosen to help Charlie at the hotel (of course the reader doesn't know that Alastor is at the hotel and this happens after the battle)...

Now what would happen?

(Fudge knuckles, this, um, it set off something in my head because I haven't been able to stop thinking about it. Admittedly couldn't imagine turning down Alastor but I can try to imagine it for this XD

Um I would have started this earlier but I was watching stuff with my friends yesterday when I got this. Point is I'm creating it now despite wanting to space out my creations, oops~

So i wasn't sure if you wanted the reader to be male or not (since you said "because he already loved other people") so I'm going gender neutral again on this. Sorry if you wanted male specifically >w<

Alastor uses "doe" as a petname for you which yes is female but I like the idea of it so I apologize for that.

Totes writing this after looking deep into my Alastor plushies eyes and while watching A Haunting in Venice. Don't ask why.

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Characters: yandere!Alastor, angel!reader

Pairing: Guess

Genre: What genre does yandere being yandere fit in? Hurt? Ain't no comfort here

Summary: Sir Pentious should have told you, oh god, why did he not warn you.)

Oh Doe

Emily assured you this would be a lovely thing; she spoke with excitement and sweetness and love of her dear friend Charlie, of that wonderful princess of hell. And the newcomer Sir Pentious, well he had plenty himself of his time there, of his growing friendships and those strange fascinating souls for whom he'd given his life. For whom he was sent up to heaven, redeemed at last. It was hard for you not to be excited, your wings all a flutter as the portal opened to allow you entrance to Down Below, to Hell. To the Hazbin Hotel.

You found the place extremely warm and it took you a moment to remember that of course it was such. It was Hell after all. You smiled as you did so and approached the hotel, amazed by it's grandness. You'd heard about the great battle between the exterminators and the hotel residents; the loss of Adam had been both a great blow and an admitted relief in some. He had been many things to many people, you mainly saw him from a distance like most angels, but the idea that an angel as powerful as him could be felled sent emotions through Heaven that were less than pleasant. You of course never feared though, a kind soul through and through, one able and willing to see the good and warmth in all. Even, you'd be the first to admit, that of perhaps those who certainly didn't deserve it.

Your eyes found the design fascinating. There was something familiar in it, in the silhouette of it, of the flash of it, the strange apple shaped tower. And the one opposite to it, strange and ominous, and in it something felt as it was watching you with far too much interest. You felt, for the first time in decades, shivers down your spine and could half remember a voice.

"Oh doe, my doe, you have done something terrible. You've broken something deep inside me and you won't even be good enough to fix it." You had not thought about it in a very long time, those words, the last thing you heard from a voice as smooth as velvet, sweet as honey, and poisonous as a viper. It dug deep, it was embedded in your soul, for better or worse, along with all the regrets and sadnesses of a life left unfinished.

"Oh you must be the angel Emily told me about!" You were ripped from your memories by a voice and your wings expanded in surprise as you looked towards the door to see what you had to guess was Charlie Magne herself.

She was bright and cheery, the strangest sight of sunlight in the depths of Hell, but her eyes sparkled and she ran over to you, taking your hands in hers and shaking them excitedly, "Oh, Emily said an angel would come down to help but really after everything that happened, you know with the trial and the fight and all of that, well, who really thought that Heaven would really send down an angel? And to help us no doubt! I'm so excited, seriously, really, just-"

"Charlie," said the voice of Vaggie; she was another angel, Emily had mentioned her, and she looked at Charlie with a soft look before turning her eye to you. It was so....it was hard to describe, not entirely hostile, not certainly friendly; you knew very little of her, of her fall, of what happened, but you suspected that she had less than friendly memories of angels. Still you smiled warmly back at her, not blaming her her feelings, how could you when you didn't truly know her; you certainly hoped to change that with your time here.

She was not the only one looking at you with at least a little suspicion. In the aftermath of battle and rebuilding, there would of course be such for an angel walking up to the hotel. The tall one, the spider sinner Angel Dust, tilted his head at you with eyes hidden by sunglasses, hands on his hips. Beside him was Husk; Sir Pentious had called him the bartender, he had not mentioned how fluffy and soft he looked, with his own wings ruffling behind him with a look even more suspicious than Vaggie's own. To both still you smiled and waved, hoping to make friends, to prove yourself.

There were more; you knew there were because you'd been told. But try as you might, while you remembered Sir Pentious mentioning how Lucifer often was around, not there currently of course, and there was supposed to be a little one-eyed maid named Nifty, Sir Pentious' love Cherry Bomb, you couldn't quite remember who else he mentioned. You knew there was one more, one more resident, one more sinner. Who....who....

"Come on, let me show you around," Charlie said and there again was that bright smile. You liked her, she was a warm kind soul; she reminded you of what everyone always accused you of being. Yet deep down you couldn't help but feel you weren't though, that Charlie was kinder, that Charlie was sweeter.

Because Charlie wouldn't have broken someone's heart like you had.

She dragged you along, such strength for such a small girl, and you were delighted by the beauty of the inside of the hotel as well. Down your back you still felt the chills, still felt the sensation of being watched, but you told yourself it was nothing and enjoyed the tour.

"Husk is the bartender of course, Angel is our resident....well, resident; our housekeeper Nifty is running around somewhere," Charlie said cheerfully, showing you all around, "And my dad is currently at home but he'll be back soon; oh he'll be so surprised to see you, we haven't had an angel here since...oh...well..." she trailed off and looked embarrassed.

You laughed sweetly and smiled at her. "No worries at all princess, I understand. The situation was terrible and on behalf of Heaven, I am so sorry for what happened; you never should have been put in such a position to have to fight to protect yourself like that. But you all survived and Sir Pentious spoke so lovingly of you all, I am delighted to have the chance to meet you and assist you with redeeming souls so they may come to Heaven too."

Charlie looked at you and you recognized it, though it felt strange coming from someone as sunshine as her. It was a look you were well used to, one you had gotten a lot in life, when you helped someone who was down on their luck by giving them everything in your pockets, when you showed kindness and love to any and all around you; people didn't always understand, they didn't often want to. Charlie, you suspected, did on both regards but having grown up in Hell, though she too saw the good in all around her, there still must be a part of her that felt uncertain when faced with a true kindred spirit. You noticed from the corner of your eye Vaggie's expression change, of course she would see it too, to something a little softer but still with plenty of apprehension. You were not fake though in your goodness; you had become an angel for good reason, Sera and Emily had always told you so.

Something felt like it was chuckling and you could have sworn you heard it again. "Oh doe, my doe, how is it you can brighten up a whole room with that bleeding heart of yours?"

"Ooooooh!" Charlie said and proceeded to capture you in a massive bearhug; the strength of a hellborn, especially Lucifer's daughter, was quite impressive and you blinked a few times before chuckling.

She continued. "I like you a lot, you seem like just what we need!"

"Oh great another softie just like our princess," said Angel Dust, walking up behind you both.

Charlie let go of you with a pout. "Angel, what's that supposed to mean?"

"That means you're too soft for your own good and so are they," Husk said, "Which, by the way, what even is your name anyway, angel?"

"You know my name," Angel Dust said playfully and nudged Husk, making the sinner grumble.

"Not you, spider, the actual angel."

"Oh me," you said, smiling again before stating your name.

You didn't expect how pale he got. You didn't expect that someone as furry as him could even go pale. Maybe it was just that his eyes widened and you got the sense he recognized your name; you opened your mouth to ask what was wrong, why he was looking at you like that but he grabbed Charlie's arm, tight if her wince was any indication.

"Princess, we need to talk, now," he said.

"Husk what's wrong?" Charlie asked and Vaggie frowned as the cat-bird sinner pulled her away from you and down the hall.

You watched as Vaggie and Angel Dust threw you a confused look then Husk one before following after him, leaving you there, alone. The hotel was quiet, they moved far enough for whatever was on his mind for you to not hear; you choose that it was probably something important and you weren't too worried. Of course they didn't trust you entirely yet to talk about important things around you, not after what happened. You kept your smile and your faith and decided to take the chance to look about the hotel for yourself.

There were many floors and many rooms. Most were empty, many were locked; you thought to yourself of how beautiful this place would be when more souls came, to be redeemed and finally go to heaven. Oh it would be wonderful, full of voices and singing and laughter and happiness. You know you were chosen for this role but you certainly couldn't have imagined any better one; to help people was something you very much enjoyed doing and this felt like the best way to do so with your afterlife.

Yet the happy thoughts felt...cold here somehow. Colder still as you kept walking. The sensations continued, of being watched, of something staring. You tried to ignore it, certain it was nothing. That surely the shadows weren't somehow watching you; that was all that there were after all, just the hotel and the shadows.

Your own little tour led to a specific door and you weren't too sure what brought you there. By your estimates it was the door that would lead to a room connected to that strange tower, the ominous one, the one you'd felt had been watching you. You stood before the door for a moment, staring at the doorknob before pulling yourself together, your wings fluttering, your heart racing a little. This was silly, you were being silly; you reached out for the doorknob to open the door.

It opened on it's own, before you could even touch it, and from inside you heard something familiar. Jazz music, a taste of home; it touched your heart and your smile turned soft and nostalgic, reminded so much of those days when you'd been alive. Visions of New Orleans crossed your mind and without thinking you stepped inside, entranced by the music; you started to sing along, knowing this song by heart.

"Oh doe, my doe," said a voice and while the music kept playing, you no longer could hear it, for the blood that couldn't rush that did rush past your ears as the good memories faded away.

He'd always played it, a dedication just to you he always told you. That melodious voice, that bright smile; it was tinged, tainted, but the crackle of radio filter to it reminded you of the days sitting in your living room, listening to him talk, never imagining what he truly was, who he truly was. Your dearest friend, for years and years.

"Alastor." The name tasted like fear on your tongue and you turned to stare, with eyes as wide as a deer's in headlights, at the tall figure who stood there, gently closing the door behind you both.

So much had changed yet not much at all. He still smiled so friendly, so warm, and you once believed so much in it, in what soul could be behind it. Until the day he confessed and you, foolish, foolish you, who loved and loved and loved and didn't know yet how to take being loved, had turned him down. He'd called you his doe, then he'd stabbed you through the heart.

His smile twitched and he tilted his head, red eyes focused on you. He wore a monocle instead of glasses, you thought feebly to yourself how you'd liked the glasses; the slightly tattered coat, the neat little bowtie, the essence of suaveness, the sharp claws clenching so lightly a long thin cane with a microphone on the end, it all suited him in some way. You remembered his hair as brown; it now was reddish, red like the rest of him. Red like your blood must have been on his clothes.

"My doe," he said and reached out with one hand, cupping your chin; you were frozen, unable to resist, unable to speak anything but his name in a terrified whisper, "It seems Heaven's sent you back to me."

You didn't want to die. You were sure he would kill you again. But he continued to smile, with those sharp teeth like a sharks he had, and looked you over, examined. "I must say, I'm not surprised you're an angel; you always were one, you just needed the wings."

That hand moved, from your chin to one of your wings and a whimper left you as you felt him stroke your feathers, biting your lip and closing your eyes.

"The question is though, my doe," he said and his tone never changed; it was playful, light, and ever so dangerous, "Do I let you keep them or do I rip them off of you? Can't have you escaping me again, can I?"

"Alastor, please," you whispered, begged, "Please..."

"Though if I did that Charlie might complain," he said and chuckled, "And I wouldn't want that. Promise me then, my doe, promise me you won't try to run away."

"I promise." You just wanted to be safe, you just wanted him not to hurt you. You remembered death, it had hurt so much.

"Good doe," he said and pulled away, patting you on the head, "Now come on, remember to smile; you're never fully dressed without one."

He smiled at you and you smiled back. Not because you wanted to. But because something, deep down, from that day, from all those days you'd spent with him, and all the days you knew to come, that if you didn't, it wouldn't end well.

The door burst in soon after and Vaggie seemed on the attack while Angel grabbed you to pull you behind him, Charlie apologizing over and over, "I didn't know, Husk told us all about what happened, I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have let you wander off on your own".

"No worries princess, I was just greeting our new angelic guest," Alastor said with cheer and friendliness.

Husk glared at him, his wings expanded, his eyes narrowed. You tried to reassure Charlie; you couldn't even really reassure yourself. But something in seeing her so worried, Husk so on edge, Vaggie with her spear and Angel standing there as if he could or would do anything, make almost seem like this could still be okay. You could still see the bright side in this, goodness, the light.

Even when facing down the greatest devil you knew.

#yandere!alastor #angel!reader #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor #fanfiction #fanfic #answering writing prompts #this one came out long #violence tw

[legend-of-zelink]

I just tried writing a little fan fiction but somehow I gave Link depression and anxiety but I don’t know how that happened because I went into this with the plan of writing some fluff. I think this says something about me…

#poor link is having a whole panic attack and I don’t even know how I got here #it was supposed to be fluffy I swear! #this is like the seventh time this has happened to me #maybe this is why I stopped writing for a decade #I was hopping Zelink would get me out of it #but who am I kidding Zelink is ALL angst #maybe that’s by fate to just be an angst writer #dang it I’m probably going to give Zelda anxiety too! #I had the most wholesome monologue thought out in the shower and now I’m writing it and it’s just angst #is there something wrong with me? and I THE PROBLEM?! #yeah probably

[alymccart]

[Click image > right click > "open image in new tab" for higher res]

Alright, uh. Screw it. Let's dust off this account. I was embarrassed about even drawing this, and especially about sharing it publicly, but I'm slapping it up here. Why not. Been extremely burnt out lately, doing art professionally has pretty much killed my desire to do art for the sake of enjoying it (sorry, fans of my dead comic). Mental health has been shoddy. Actual health is eh, as well. I've been too busy to really think and have been so guilty about there being so much stuff to do in my life still that I haven't really afforded myself time to relax or unwind. My enthusiasm for anything has been in the dumps for years. I don't think I've drawn more than a handful of fanart pieces in over a decade (what you see on here is pretty much it), and I've certainly never drawn something like... this. Obviously, I watched Hazbin finally (didn't even realize the show was an actual thing now, though I did love the pilot eons ago; I don't tend to traverse into fandom discussion and discourse so I've been out of the loop). I'm actually nearing double-digit rewatches... and the OST has been on repeat for weeks. Well animated, beautifully written adult cartoons? I'm here for it. Musicals? Oh yeeahhhhh! A well animated, beautifully written adult cartoon that is also a musical??? *teakettle noises*

I'm ace as hell, but wholesome, loving, devoted relationships like this in fiction seem to hit me right at my core. I also cry at heartwarming videos and movies, but that's beside the point... I just... hrrrnnnnggg... Charlie and Vaggie's relationship has SENT ME. It has an iron grip on my soul and I cannot stop it. I feel like i'm 14 years old again. I want to write fanfiction. Is it 2004?? Where am I????? What the fffffasdfasfagghfgfjhdd????????!!!! Aannnyyyyywayyyy.... This art gave me stomach butterflies the entire time I worked on it, as well as an immense amount of joy, and I really hope this can maybe do that for others. And I still have... so many ideas........ so many....

#hazbin hotel #charlie morningstar #vaggie #chaggie #hazbin spoilers #spoilers maybe??? #digital art #art by me

[tobifuyu]

New hair, who dis?

Ran Haitani x f!reader

After years of friendship, Ran is growing and maturing right in front of your eyes but you cannot bring yourself to accept what change brings about.

cw: nsfw, mdni, basically porn with plot, friends to lovers, reader is oblivious, ran is a simp, rindou is so done, masturbation, mirror sex, use of sex toys, hair kink ig, lots of pet names.

wc: 9,7k

a/n: gosh this is way too long I’m so sorry I just have too many ideas and once I start writing I cannot stop myself. many more fics to come, I have a long list of fantasies to satisfy. also, we stan simp ran in this house.

One thing you were not expecting when opening the door of your apartment that evening was for Ran to walk in looking like a completely different person.

You wouldn’t even have recognized him if it weren’t for his purple eyes staring down at you with their ever-present mischievous glint.

Lately, his lanky body has been filling out the new suits he’s wearing in a delicious way, and the time he’s been putting in at the gym, even if reluctantly, is visibly paying off.

You notice he has removed the transparent plaster from the fresh tattoo on his neck, black ink a stark contrast against his pale skin.

There’s something else missing, and the sight is so unsettling that for a moment you think about closing the door on his face.

Who is this man staring back at you? If this is Ran, why are his infamous braids gone?

“Ran, what the fuck?”

“I can explain!” He puts his hands up, gesturing at you to let him come in, and you move out of his way automatically as you take him in from different angles.

The door gets closed behind your back and Ran wraps your wrist in one of his big hands to steer you to your couch in the center of the living room. You’re both silent as you sit down, your eyes fixed on the damage.

“I cut my hair.”

“I can fucking see that!” The smug grin that was stretching his pretty lips slowly fades at the agitation in your voice. The thing is that you don’t understand why you feel so distraught.

It shouldn’t matter, right? It’s not like he went and cut your own hair behind your back. Yeah, he could’ve let you know about such an important decision in his life as he does with pretty much everything else. He could’ve maybe even asked for your opinion. But he didn’t have to.

You and Ran have been friends for years, more than a decade, and you have seen him cut and style his hair multiple times in the past. Just because you are particularly infatuated with the way his two-toned braids swung around while fighting, or how he would twirl them with his baton and long fingers, and how it looked untied, forming a messily shaped halo behind his head while resting on the pillow during one of your many cuddling sessions… doesn’t mean he had to ask for your permission.

It’s not like he knows how much you love to brush his soft locks before twisting them back into the braids that come hunting you on your dream-filled nights. Because you’ve never told him. So it’s not his fault if all these things don’t matter to him.

“You don’t like ‘em?” He coughs to hide the embarrassment he feels after asking such a vulnerable question. Ran has never really cared about what other people think of him, except for maybe Rindou, sometimes. But you’re an exception.

He knows he’s far from ugly and he thought he looked real good with the new haircut. He was excited to match with his little brother once again, and he thought you would also, considering how well you reacted a couple of weeks ago when Rin showed you the light purple color he got done at the saloon.

Maybe, just maybe, you like Rin a bit better? No, he thinks, it can’t be possible. He would’ve noticed something like that.

Then why are you acting so… mad? Or is it hurt he sees painted across your pretty face?

You let out a sigh, “No, it looks good. I overreacted, I’m sorry. I just– I wasn’t expecting you to cut your hair, that’s all.”

He scoffs, as if he doesn’t believe your words, and pulls one of your hands up to his hair. He wants to convince you that not much has changed, and you’ll still get to play with it while watching movies, he thinks it’s soft enough with the treatment he has done, “See, it’s still pretty long, just pushed back. Maybe you can braid it sometimes.”

You laugh at that and Ran smiles at you. You meet his soft gaze before daring another glimpse at his new haircut. It’s styled in such a way that accentuates his sharp facial structure, jawline visible in all its glory.

“You look…” Hot. Fuck. You shake your head, trying to reign yourself in as you stroke the soft hair, “It looks good, more mature. It’s fluffier than I thought, Rannie.”

The more you look at him the more you realize that this new look of his is toying with your already decaying sanity.

Pull yourself together, for fuck’s sake.

Ran lets it go after that, props you to get settled on the couch, and removes his suit jacket before grabbing some drinks and snacks to watch a movie.

An hour in, he lays his head on your chest. It’s routine, he’s always been clingy with you, in private. And you’ve always enjoyed the closeness, no matter how confusing it might be, so you never question him.

Your hands subconsciously bury themselves between his lilac locks. You can hear him let out a deep sigh as you scratch his scalp, relaxing into your hold.

“Looks good, Ran. I like it a lot,” You whisper as if to reassure him, whilst you’re only stopping yourself from confessing that you would like him even if he were bald. Your gentle motions make him fall asleep with his lips curled in a smile.

My sleepy boy, you think.

That night you wake up in a cold sweat. The blond tresses that you constantly dream of softly stroking have been subsided by messy lilac locks. The short length is being gripped by your hands as its owner's head peaks from between your thighs. Unfortunately, it’s not very the first time you dream of Ran in such a compromising position. But the matching lavender gaze staring at you with purpose is now fresh in your memory, and makes his haircut seem even more attractive, the perfect length to shove him back against your heat.

Your cheeks redden as you try to shake the feeling away, you get rid of the covers and turn on your side ready for sleep to take over once again, but his new and improved look keeps hunting you at every toss and turn.

You reach into your bedside table for the only thing that can bring you peace of mind: your trusty vibrator. It’s a small bullet one, but it does its job just fine when you press it against your clit to release the pent-up stress of the day. You think nothing of it when the face that appears behind your closed eyelids as you come is that of your bestfriend.

The next couple of weeks, it doesn’t escape Ran the fact that you’re looking at him a little weird. At first, he thinks you might still be trying to get used to his new look. It was definitely a drastic change, and for you who have known him for such a long time, to be faced with it without him even giving you any heads up must’ve been weird. So he hopes that the gift he has planned to give you, will be enough to make it up to his bestfriend, to show how much he cares about your friendship and your opinions, even if he didn’t ask for it this time.

Then he starts panicking because you stop picking up his phone calls. You don’t make plans to hang out with him anymore, just shoot a text from time to time to let him know that you’re okay but busy. He’d like to believe you, but you’ve always made time for him before. You’re avoiding him.

He doesn’t know that you cannot bring yourself to face him anymore. You had managed to suppress the feelings you harbor for him for years, but seeing him in another light, with his childish braids replaced by a more mature and undoubtedly attractive look, has been the hardest challenge for you.

You feel ashamed by the number of times his face has been appearing in your mind at the most inconvenient times. You feel too dirty to look him in the eyes and pretend like you don’t dream of them at night.

Ran has reached a level of desperation where he has to involve his brother before he loses his cool over something that, he thinks rationally, shouldn’t even bother him that much. The two of you are just friends, you don’t owe him your time.

Luckily, you pick up Rindou’s call on his first try, you haven’t heard from him in a while, so it only makes sense that you do, might be something important. What if something has happened to Ran?

Rin doesn’t want anything to do with this mess, but he can’t bear to stress over the safety of his brother anymore as he comes to their meetings looking tired and miserable as hell. Bonten is just starting out, and they’re dealing with some heavy shit now, his brother needs to fucking focus.

So he invites you over for some drinks. Explains how it’s just a small get-together they’re throwing to celebrate a new deal, only some of the guys will attend. And when you ask about Ran, he rolls his eyes but replies that his brother is not gonna be there. Which is a lie, a big fat lie that is gonna turn into a headache for him soon enough. He knows that already.

You show up just because you’ve been holed up in your apartment for the past week. Work has been… well, work. And your friend group is pretty much the same as Ran’s, so you couldn’t risk him getting word of you being out and about after you’ve turned down all his invitations. You’re joining tonight because Ran hasn’t tried to contact you in a few days, and Rin has promised his brother is gonna be held back at work. Getting a few drinks with your old friends is the perfect way to destress.

You don’t make it that far, though, because the moment you walk in Ran is already there. Mingling about and walking like he owns the place, which he does. You turn to Rindou, who’s conveniently opened the door for you and is now planning to make a run for it, and you look at him as if you’re ready to tear his head off. He must’ve known what’s going on, there’s no other way for him to be so sneaky about this. He sends an apologetic look your way before scrambling away to Sanzu, who’s waiting for him in the dark of the corridor leading to the rooms.

Ran stutters over to you the moment his eyes lay on your fidgeting figure. He’s wearing a pair of dress pants and a shirt that look like they’ve been tailored to fit his lanky body in such a way that makes it hard for you to breathe. His short hair is parted and gelled back, a few pieces falling off the hairstyle and resting effortlessly on his forehead.

“Hey pretty, you’ve made it.”

“Looks like it,” you shrug your shoulders, looking around awkwardly as he ushers you into the middle of the living room. You should’ve known the brothers would’ve stuck together. Fuck you, Rindou.

“D’you want something to drink?” He sits beside you, and the scene reminds you so much of when he last came over to your apartment, except this time you’re surrounded by a handful of people. Gotta make sure you’re on your best behavior, so you turn down the drink.

“C’mon, work has been stealing you from me for weeks now, y’need to let go a little.” He can sense you’re tense, and maybe alcohol isn’t the best choice in this situation, but he doesn’t know how else to let you at least look at him. He feels a pang in his chest. Why won’t you even look at him?

“I’m okay, thanks.” You’re acting so cold and distant. He’s starting to wonder if all of this really has happened over him simply cutting his hair, or if there’s something deeper beneath it. Did you feel betrayed by him not telling you?

“I think I’m just gonna go home, I’m pretty beat actually,” you start to say, and Ran doesn’t want to force you, but he doesn’t want you to go either. “Please, just some more time to catch up. Rin wanted to see you as well,” as he says this he looks around the room and curses his brother for leaving with Sanzu.

Ran’s ass gets saved by Kakucho tapping on your shoulder before he wraps an arm around both of them as you turn to greet him. You’re smiling again, just how Ran likes to see you, but the pit of his stomach is burning with something akin to jealousy.

He’s relieved that Kakucho stopped you from upping and leaving, but he doesn’t like how you get up and join him at the counter to get him another round. Seems like you’re not drinking still, means you don’t plan on sticking around.

Ran is bummed out, he stops staring at you and Kakucho after some others join in on the conversation. He doesn’t want you to mingle with these people too much (most of them have something to do with Bonten, after all), but he’s the one who strategized all of this in the first place, so he lets you enjoy yourself. He’d rather stop pushing you before he makes it worse.

In the meantime, you’re watching a pouting Ran sit on the couch from the corner of your eye. Kakucho snickers as he notices, and you swat him away when he suggests you go sit back down with “your Ran”.

“He’s been a mess these past few weeks, I think he misses you. A lot,” Kakucho has never been anything but kind and truthful to you, that’s why you enjoy his presence so much. He’s a breath of fresh air around the much violence this friend group has experienced growing up. He’s one of those who has suffered the most but he always has a nice word to spare. Such a pure heart, his.

Your eyes wander back to where your heart is, but what you see makes your face turn into a grimace. A pretty girl you’ve known for a while, someone’s girlfriend you recall, has sat down in your spot and is now talking to Ran. They seem to be sharing a laugh as she reaches over to stroke Ran’s hair out of his face, before gesturing at it as if complimenting the new hairstyle.

The interaction is short-lived and friendly, you know her for being nothing but nice, but you feel like shit now.

You don’t like the feeling of jealousy, especially when it’s not even excused. You just don’t like when people touch Ran’s hair, and you do even less now that it has become such a touchy subject for you. He let her, that’s the problem.

“Yeah, I bet he missed me alright,” you mumble bitterly as you excuse yourself from Kakucho.

It doesn’t take you long to stand in front of Ran and stare down at him with cold eyes, “‘m leaving. Have a goodnight,” You direct the last bit to the girl, hoping she doesn’t think you’re remotely even mad at her. Then, you leave the apartment in such a rush that you don’t hear Ran calling for you. You feel like you’re underwater and the first real breath of air you take is back at your flat.

All you had time to do, before hearing the furious knocks banging on your door, is take off your makeup and wear your pajamas. Maybe, just maybe, if they had started shaking the wood just ten minutes later, you would’ve been sleeping already and not giving enough fucks to get up from your bed.

You open the door, no need to check from the peephole as you already know who it could be at this ludicrous hour.

“We need to talk.”

“No, we don’t, I have work early in the morning,” you try arguing as you go to close the door. He blocks it with his shoe, pushing it open with his right hand as he stares at you with a look he usually reserves for Rindou when he gets pissed off about something important. It’s completely different from the one he has while fighting, he’s not being snarky or overconfident, he looks serious and undeniably mad.

“You’ve been avoiding me. For weeks. ‘Cause I cut my fucking hair.” He slams the door as he steps inside the apartment and you jump from the sudden sound, walking towards you as you slowly back away and fidget with your raised hands. You’re not scared of him, you know he’d never do anything to hurt you. You’re just scared of the confrontation that is about to go down, the fact that you’re gonna have to tell the truth, for once and for all, cause you can’t possibly hold it from him anymore. And just like that, you’re gonna lose Ran.

Ran takes in your panicked state and slows down to approach you carefully, his face softens and he clasps your hands in his bigger ones. With the grip he has on them, he drags you closer to his body. The two of you are standing in the center of the room as silence overtakes it. You can feel his stare burning your skin but you keep your own cast down.

“You know I’d never hurt you, right?” His thumbs are stroking your skin in a calming pattern, “I don’t know what I’ve done, but I never meant to hurt you. I’m sorry.”

You don’t understand what he’s talking about. The one apologizing here should be you! “You did nothing wrong, Ra–“

“Please look at me,” you cast him a glance from under your lashes, but the way he’s staring back is so intimidating that you can’t help but feel your face heat up and you have to divert your eyes elsewhere, “You can’t even look at me.”

“Ran, I swear this has nothing to do with you cutting off your piss-colored hair.”

He knows you well enough not to get offended, your self-defensive mechanism has always been that of getting mean.

Two fingers find their way to your chin to grip it and raise it enough so that your eyes meet once again. You can’t escape him this time.

“Tell me how to fix it, how to fix us.”

His voice is almost a whisper, he sounds so distraught, blaming himself for your stupidity. You can’t take it anymore. You love Ran, the last thing you want is for him to be hurting.

“I’m not mad at you Ran, I’m mad at myself,” His purple eyes widen with surprise, but he remains silent as he lets you explain yourself, “This is gonna sound, real bad but… I couldn’t bring myself to face you these past few weeks. Cause I had a wet dream about you. After you cut your hair…” You’re not telling the whole truth as of yet – there have been multiple dreams – but you need to test the waters first.

“Oh,” Well fuck, you’ve said it now. “Oh, wow.” His hands drop his hold on one of yours and fall from your chin, for a moment you think he’s gonna step back and run away far from you, but then you feel his touch on your waist, moving you even closer than before.

His lips settle on your forehead, stamping a kiss on the skin while you feel his mouth vibrate against it as he shakes with laughter.

This is Ran we’re talking about, ‘course he’s not gonna run away, he’s gonna embarrass you to the ground. In a week's time, everyone in your friend group will probably know about this. Not only is your friendship officially ruined, but you’ll never get to step outside of your flat without feeling like a walking joke ever again, “Are you laughing at me?”

“You got embarrassed?” He places another smooch over the same spot, “So what if I made you wet in a dream? It was my haircut, wasn’t it?”

Ran giggles. The motherfucker thinks he’s funny.

“Is that why you reacted that way back at my place? You got mad someone else was gripping my hair?” His mocking voice makes you flush red, but you know better than to give in to his teasing.

“She barely touched you, please. Like I give a damn,” You roll your eyes, finally getting the courage to stare at his smirking face as you fall back into your comfortable routine of making fun of each other. “I can always grip it myself and show you the difference,” You bark back, watching how the side of his curved lips slightly twitches.

“Go at it, babygirl.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Gosh, you seem to be pretty mad still,” he’s pouting, and you swear you wanna bite his lips so badly right now.

Get a fucking grip, oh my goodness. You haven’t even told him the worst part yet. He doesn’t know you’ve masturbated to him. He doesn’t know you like him way more than a simple friend should.

“Should I find some way to make it up to you?” His words snap you back to reality, but he’s been observing you, lavender hues taking in your scrunched-up face as you think hard over something that is still concealed from him. He wants to kiss your cute cheeks, wants to hear you giggle. You’re his precious girl, he feels this visceral need to let you know just how much he cares.

Ran’s mouth presses against the apple of your cheeks once, twice, trice. He’s leaving kisses all over the bare skin, switching from one side to the other, kissing the top of your nose endearingly.

One of the hands he has gripping your waist slides to the center of your back, over the sleep shirt you’re wearing, trying to stop you from running away from his kiss attack – as if you would – and to keep you comfortably pressed against his embrace.

He can feel you melt against his body. Rosy lips parted to take in deep breaths. Your eyelids are now closed and he doesn’t waste time kissing over them as well. He can feel your skin heating up against his mouth, feverish-like, but he can’t stop himself from dragging his lips lower to peck at your jawline.

The kisses he’s giving you are all kinds of kisses, from short and sweet pecks to loud and cute smooches, to more sensual and wet ones, especially when he reaches the skin of your neck. At this point, you can’t help but raise your hands to his hair and grip the short length of it just like you promised to show him. He lets out what sounds like a moan in the croak of your neck, but you think you must’ve imagined it as you can’t really hear much over the sound of your beating heart, the blood furiously pumping in your ears.

You know you’re enjoying this way too much, and for a moment you start to feel dirty again. He’s showering you with love because you’re his best friend, and your head is turning something so pure into nasty thoughts.

It’s not the first time he has smothered your face in kisses, maybe not to this extent, but you guys haven’t seen each other in weeks, so it only makes sense why he’s reacting to your closeness in such a way.

That’s until he sucks on the soft spot behind your ear and takes the lobe between his teeth to pull the skin. The way his name comes out from your mouth, breathless and whiny, makes him weak in the knees.

He’s gonna turn all your wet dreams into reality. You just need to say the word and he’s gonna give you what you deserve and more.

His nose is now bumping against yours, mouth pressing between the space above your cupid’s bow, the corner of your mouth, the bottom of it. Your lips graze each other every time he moves along. At this point, he has kissed every inch of your face except for the mouth. You know that would be taking it a step too far. The already thin lines of friendship between the two of you would blur to a point of no return.

At least on your part; you know Ran doesn’t shy away from human touch as you do, so it might not carry the same weight for him, you’re nearly sure of it.

You can’t possibly know how wrong you are, because as you’re thinking that, Ran is holding himself back from closing the space between you.

He has been dying to kiss you for years, since the first time you offered to braid his hair for him.

“What did you dream of?” he whispers, gruff voice scratching a part of your brain that you didn’t think existed as his hot breath washes over you, only inches away.

“Uhm, I… I don’t really remember.”

“You’re not a good liar, princess,” his mouth moves closer to your ear, trailing on the soft skin on his way there, as one of his hands grasps the fat of your left thigh and hooks it over his hipbone. “What was I doing that made you wet? Did you touch yourself because of me? Tell me.”

You know that if you could see yourself from the outside right now you’d laugh at how red your face probably is, but there’s nothing to laugh about how firm Ran’s voice is when giving orders. It might’ve sounded like he was teasing you before, but he’s being completely serious now. And you’d never dare disobey Ran when he gets like this.

“I- You were eating me out,” you gulp, your throat lets you heave the words out with difficulty. “It was either that or… some other nights, you’d do more.”

So it’s multiple dreams, different nights. Ran’s grip on you tightens, “Did you touch yourself?” He repeats the question, eyes dark and attentive, as if he’s dying to know. As if he can’t picture it in his head without you guiding him through it. Fuck it, you think.

“I did, used my vibrator-“You can’t even finish your sentence because Ran is grasping your other leg and lifting you up in the air. You circle his neck with your arms and hold on tight in fear of him dropping you, but his strength makes it seem like he’s barely breaking a sweat.

“Fuck, can I kiss you? I’m dying to taste you.”

It takes you some time to elaborate on his desperate plea, but once you do, you consent enthusiastically, “Yeah? Yes!“

The moment your lips meet, it’s like nothing else matters in the world. Ran is kissing you, his lips are moving over yours with expertise. He starts slow and deepens it to the point you have to push him away slightly to regain your breath.

Sometime during the kisses that come after, Ran has you up against the wall. He runs the tip of his tongue over the seam of your mouth, but you don’t open it straight away to pay him back for all his usual teasing. That’s until he presses his hips against yours, and you feel his hardness rubbing on you.

“Oh my god, fuck, Ran.” He takes your surprise as an opportunity to tangle his tongue with yours. You moan in his mouth, and he groans back, parting just enough to let you know what he needs, “I want you so bad, pretty girl.”

You buck into him as if asking for more and bite his lip before letting it go, watching as it falls back into place.

Ran laughs at that, starting a trail of kisses from your puffy lips all the way to your exposed collarbones. He knows you’re not wearing a bra, you don’t sleep in them. The first thing he noticed when he stepped foot inside your apartment tonight is how your nipples were perked up against the cotton of the shirt. He also knows the only thing covering your bottom is a pair of panties. Keeping this in mind, he sends you a look while reaching for the hem of your sleep shirt, as if asking for permission.

You nod and he frees you of it, chunking it somewhere behind his frame. He’s holding you up with his hips alone, navel pressed tightly against yours. That’s so fucking hot.

His hands make a b-line to your breasts, squeezing them to get a feel, and the motion is as pleasurable to you as it is for him, making his cock jump in his pants. You can feel his length twitching and it’s driving you crazy.

“Please-“ Your voice breaks the moment Ran puts you back down, you struggle to keep yourself on your feet and watch as he bends to bite at one of your nipples.

“Oh my god, yes,” he’s twisting the other with his fingers, and regretfully leaves them behind as he moves in a downward path over your body. He’s so close to your heat that he can smell your arousal, and when he casts his eyes toward your mound, he sees the wet patch staining your panties.

“Is this because of me?” a slap on your covered cunt follows his question. He knows already, you’ve made it clear, but he wants to hear you say it.

“Yes, yeah, Ran, baby. It’s all because of you.”

He thinks you must be already pretty out of it, because you’re not usually this straightforward when it comes to sex, in front of him at least. He heard how dirty you can get when talking about it with other friends, so he’s happy he’s found the key to open you up to him, literally.

It’s after your nth confirmation that Ran decides to grasp the side of your cotton panties and slowly drag them down your quivering legs. Both of you still can’t believe this is happening. You’re about to satisfy his every craving, and he’ll make sure to do the same for you.

Ran is on his knees, staring up at your body as if it’s a piece of art that has moved something inside of him. His admiring gaze is pushing all of your shyness and insecurities to leave you. His making you feel comfortable while being so exposed and vulnerable is exactly why you fell in love with him in the first place.

The weight of a peck being stamped on the inner skin of your thigh is what you feel before your body starts being covered in kisses. He’s raising to his full height while doing so, and the last one he gives you is on your forehead, just like the first of the night.

“I need you, Ran.”

Everything is still around the two of you, in the silence of the night you can hear the deep breath he takes. You lean forward to kiss the tattoo peeking from the collar of his dress shirt.

The hanafuda is a bright reminder of the life he has selfishly involved you in, and for a second he rethinks his next move, but you quickly realize he’s getting into his head and raise on your tippy toes to kiss his pink lips.

“Take me to bed, Ran. Don’t make me beg.”

You’ve told him multiple times that you can take care of yourself, and you know that where you can’t on your own he’s gonna be there to save you. You believe him, and he has to do the same when you tell him that he’s not gonna get rid of you that easily.

“You’re gonna beg either way,” he promises with a sneaky smile as he grabs your ass in his hands, making you straddle his hips as he carries you to your bedroom.

More kisses are being shared between the two of you during the short way, and he can barely tear himself from you as he lays you on your mattress.

You think he’s reaching into your bedside table for condoms but what he finds is even better: your pink vibrator. He looks at it as if he’s discovered gold. When he orders you to take it and use it on yourself, you realize he wants to watch. He wants to recreate what you’ve so cutely told him you’ve been doing for the past few weeks while thinking about him. Ran wants to see for himself.

He stands at the foot of the bed while you tease your entrance with the bullet vibrator, collecting your wetness to make it glide more easily over your clit. You keep your legs spread to give him a show, watching as he pays you back by removing piece by piece of clothing.

His full-body tattoo reveals itself to your greedy eyes. You’ve seen it multiple times, but have never gotten to take it in all together.

You’re panting, reaching your slit with one of your fingers as your opening clenches around nothing under his lust-filled gaze. “Hold it,” his deep voice tells you, and you follow his instruction, regretfully so.

“Keep it spread fo’ me.” You spread yourself open with two fingers, bucking up to chase the sensation of your vibrator. “Fuck, such a good girl fo’ me. Doing anything I tell her.” He grasps his hardness over the cloth of the boxers, the grey fabric sticking to his skin and forming a wet patch where his precome is leaking.

He strokes himself a couple of times before removing the last piece of clothing on his body, finally letting you see the place where his tattoo connects, but most importantly his cock.

It’s so pretty, lengthy, and a girth that would scare you if it weren’t for how long you’ve been dreaming of this moment. It bobs between his legs as he crawls over the bed to you and the pink on its head is glistening, you wish you could clean it up with your tongue right now.

You think he must also have an oral fixation because the moment he reaches you and settles between your open legs he chunks the vibrator to the side of the bed to cover your wetness with his mouth.

Curious tongue running over the mess you made, the sounds he’s making giving away how much he’s enjoying getting a taste.

“Can’t believe I’ve been missing out on this. You taste like heaven, princess.” He’s raising as he mutters the words. He takes one look at your withering figure from above, before letting a glob of spit fall on your cunt.

Ran bends and goes right back in, the muscles on his shoulders moving along as his hands come up to hold your thighs open before you can crush his head, you can already feel the bruises from the tight grip forming on the skin.

It’s like the wet dreams that have been plaguing your mind ever since he cut his hair have finally turned into reality. His shorts locks are peeking from between your thighs and you’re gripping them for dear life as he feasts on you, mouth sucking around your clit and lilac eyes peeking from below your mound with a stare so intense that you can feel your legs trembling from that alone.

When his fingers join in the fun you feel yourself getting closer, he’s moving them in a come hither motion and hitting your spot just right. He’s not building up momentum or taking his time in opening you up, that’s how desperate he is. Two of them are fucking into you quickly and with precision, while his dexterous tongue flicks your bundle of nerves.

“Ran, fuck, you look so good between my legs,” You can feel him smirking against you, the boost of ego you know he needs to get him right where you want him.

“I’m gonna cum, plea– please, don’t stop.” The problem is that Ran doesn’t exactly like being told what to do, and he’s being greedy now. He has waited too long to have you, he can’t possibly wait anymore.

He stops his movements, triggering a cry on your part. You nearly kick him with one of your feet but he’s fast enough to move to the edge of the bed, sitting in front of the full-length mirror that covers your wardrobe and conveniently faces the mattress.

You stare at him, spread legs and hard length resting on his lower abdomen as he settles reclined on the palm of his hands. “Come sit on my cock.”

You’re facing his back, laying down on the bed still, and from your position you get to admire the tattoo on his back, and how his muscles flex beneath the skin every time he moves. His body is as sinful as it can be, he drips sex and makes you want to mold yourself to him and never let go. It has always scared you, this pull he has on you, but now he’s the one inviting you over. It’s not the time to shy away.

He’s watching you from the reflection in the mirror as you get up. Your naked body is to him like a tall glass of water after weeks without drinking, he feels like he would die right here, right now, if you were to walk away without letting him have a sip.

Even his wet dreams – yes, you’re not the only one fantasizing about your best friend – don’t compare to the sight of you standing in front of his spread legs looking down at him.

“Uh nah, turn around pretty,” he prompts when he sees you’re about to straddle his lap. He enjoys the sight of you doing whatever he tells you to without even having to touch your body, and he stores that information inside a little drawer in his head for later.

You finally sit down, sliding against his hot skin until you’re resting only half of your weight on his thighs. His cock is now sandwiched between your bodies, and he groans when your asscheeks rub against it while you are wiggling onto him purposely.

“I said sit on my cock, I want you on top of it.”

You’re about to fuck your best friend, it doesn’t seem real. Should the two of you even be doing this? This will change everything forever, there would be no going back from it.

You know that once he’s gonna slide inside you you won’t be able to look at any other man ever again. You barely do now, anyway.

Your right hand goes under you to grasp his length, the angle is uncomfortable but you make it work enough to give him a few pumps. His girth feels hot in your hold, and you bring it to your opening to tease yourself with his wet tip.

“Fuck baby, don’t tease me.” The reflection in the mirror shows his tensed body in all his glory, and you get a glimpse of his hands buried in the sheets, he’s gripping the fabric so tight you think blood might’ve stopped flowing.

Ran is trying not to buck up into you, he’s giving you time to adjust to his size, and you realize how needed it is when you finally lower yourself on it.

You’re watching the scene unfold in the mirror, how his cock is slowly sinking inside of you. The stretch leaves you with a burning feeling and when you nearly reach his base you realize how full you are. All your bumps and ridges are being deliciously stroked by his skin.

Your lips fall open in a pant and Ran is groaning right by your ear as he straightens his posture and bends slightly over your body. “I’ve been dreaming of this for years,” he confesses while his hands grasp the fat of your thighs, spreading you to him as he loops your legs over his, keeping them open just like that with his knees.

He can’t believe his eyes when he gets to fully glimpse how far he’s stretching your cunt with his cock. All the patience in the world wouldn’t help him hold back anymore.

He bucks up into you, having you take his cock down to the base. You let out a shriek at how big he feels inside, and after that, he starts moving. Being on top made you, at first, feel like you could be in control, but it seems like the orders he was barking at you weren’t the only thing he was planning on doing on his part.

Ran starts pounding into you from below, strong thighs helping him in bucking up. You’re being split open on his cock and he’s enjoying the show. The sound of skin slapping against skin is so sinful, but your eyes are now closed in pleasure as you’re reduced to nothing but a moaning mess. His thrusts are so powerful that it takes you very little time to lose your mind.

He’s calling for you, you can hear his deep voice and feel his hot breath on your ear after you slumped against his bigger body, resting your leaned-back head on the crook of his neck. “Mhmh, open your eyes, pretty girl,” like the good girl you are, you do as said, even if you’re struggling to keep them open when his thrusts don’t let up, but instead seem to be getting deeper every time you do something he asks of you right.

He grabs your chin with his thumb and pointer, redirecting your line of sight towards the mirror, where you can see his heavy balls slap over your glistening skin from below. “Look at how much you’re dripping, that’s how I slid in so quickly.” You whimper at that, Ran always had a way with words that could get to you even when nothing of sorts was being said, always the teasing one, but now that he’s running his mouth with all these dirty thoughts you can’t help but be even more affected than usual.

“You take my cock like a pro, mh. You like it, don’t you, my pretty little slut? Oh, I just know you’re loving this. Bet your little vibrator couldn’t make you feel this good.”

He’s pressing down on your belly, making the pressure on your navel feel ten times more intense, and all you can focus on is how he’s spreading you open. “It’s so big Ran- Ah,” he thinks your words are gonna get to his head. He has to keep a solid grip on you not to melt at your praise, “Fuck Ran, please, please baby.”

“What is it that you want, use your words.”

“I wanna come, pleasee, I need it so bad,” He loves how polite you are, asking for it with a please. He’d give it to you no matter what, but he appreciates how much you’re trying for him. He knows you can get a little hot-headed, or maybe he just found that one field where you finally succumb and let others take care of you.

Ran reaches over to the forgotten toy and switches it back on before placing it over your neglected and pulsating clit. He never had anything against sex toys, he doesn’t see the harm in using them to bring more pleasure to his partners. He knows you could come from his cock alone, but he needs to feel you gushing around him right about now, before he loses it. He wants to see you dripping to the ground before he fills you up to the brim.

You grasp a handful of his hair and pull it without shame as he fucks you with abandon while rubbing your clit with the vibrating toy. He has to hold your thigh open with one of his big hands because you keep clenching your muscles, and he needs to watch as you come undone.

“Fuuck,” you’re cursing loudly, without a care for your poor neighbors who must be going crazy with the loud noises at such a late hour.

Ran is hitting all the right places, he’s prodding and searching all over your body like he needs to study it, to learn it, and knowing him and how attentive he is, you’re sure that the next time it will take him half of the time to get you there. Or maybe he’ll use his knowledge to drag it out like the teasing little shit he is.

But who said anything about a next time? You’re not even sure as to why the two of you have fallen into bed together, but what you know with certainty is that you’re perception of Ran has shifted the moment he cut his hair.

It might be crazy, ruining a years-long friendship over something so trivial, but it’s like your best friend Ran was the one with the braids, and the one you’re sitting on top of, who’s kissing your neck and whispering sweet praises in your ear, who’s bulkier and more charming and wears purple striped suits, is someone else entirely, but someone that you love all the same.

You’ll always cherish your braided Ran as your friend, but this older version of him will not be able to live inside your mind while battling your feelings as you’ve always done.

The man in the mirror looks at you with lust, but under all of that is the shade of his unchanging lavender hues, the ones who have been staring at you with unnamed affection for years. Maybe it’s time to let go of that uncertainty and fall into him once and for all.

“Ran, I’m gonna come.” He’s so good at reading your body already that he doesn’t stop, he just forgoes the vibrator opting to massage your clit with his thumb, spreading you open with two fingers, while his other hand reaches your boobs. He knows how sensitive they are, he remembers you telling him once, and that’s why he has avoided touching them until now.

His fingers alternate pinching and pulling at the erected nipples, and his hand grasps the entirety of your left beast to pull you down as you try to fight his thrusting and press you onto him.

He noses at your cheek, inviting you to meet him for a kiss. It’s a deep one, with tongues entangling and teeth bumping against each other, he has to rein you in as you’re panting and mumbling.

You don’t have the strength to speak anymore, but Ran knows the exact moment you dangle and trip over the edge because you squeeze him so tight he lets out a string of curses.

He feels you gushing around him, the squelch of wetness becoming even more loud making his cheeks tint red. He’s never been shy when it comes to sex, but the way he’s fucking you now it’s so nasty that he can’t believe how you’re letting him. His sweet girl.

Now that you’ve come on his cock, he slows down his hips to avoid overstimulating you, and he helps you regain your breathing as he kisses your cheek, “You’re doing so good, sweetheart. Mh- Fuck,” Your cunt is squeezing him so hard, coherent thoughts are slowly leaving his mind in favor of you. Nothing else matters now but you.

Ran has to gather all of his remaining strength to slip from you and lay you down on your white sheets. Big eyes are looking up at him as he just hung the moon and the stars, and from his position, he gets to watch your face contort in pleasure as he slides right back inside your wet heat.

“Ran-“ “I know, baby.” Your nails are raking down his chest, red marks showing up on the untattooed side of his body. Your neck is straining as you press the back of your head into the pillow, and he eyes the still unblemished skin before placing his lips on your pulse point, sucking and biting as he goes.

His thrusts are slow but deep, you can feel the heat building up in the pit of your belly all over again. You buck up against him, watching as he lets out moan after moan, getting closer to his end. He sounds so fucking good.

He wants to drag this out, scared of what might come after the both of you come down from your highs, so he pins down the side of your hips with one hand, resting on his hunches as he grasps both of your wrists in the other and raises them over your head.

He’s circling his hips now, rubbing his navel against your clit and relishing in all the pretty noises you’re letting out.

“Pretty girl- can you come fo’ me one more time? You’ve been s’good to me, gimme another. Just one- one more,” Ran’s voice is strangled, he’s trying to hide how much the pulsing of your cunt is affecting him, with very little success. His balls are strained and heavy with cum, he wants you to come around him as paints your walls in white.

You’re moving to break free from his grip but his strength doesn’t let you, so you try begging for him, “Rannn, more! Please, need more, I’m so close- Wanna cum.” You’re whining, sweat running down your body, he looks at how your skin is glistening and wants to lick you up.

Ran has never been able to tell you no, so he moves the hand that was holding you down to your neck, thumb resting over your pulse as he squeezes enough to make you feel it. His hips resume his thrusting with a purpose.

“Cream on my cock, ‘m gonna fill you up, angel,” and you do just that, on command. Ran thinks you ruined every other woman for him, right there and there. It’s like you were fucking made for him. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, babygirl.”

He’s right behind you, mouth parting as he groans and repeats your name like a fucking prayer. You’re arching your back, your chests are pressed together and Ran swears he can hear the sound of your heartbeat as he fills you up with cum.

With scrunched-up eyebrows and eyelids fighting to stay open, his purple eyes are taking you in. Your legs are locked behind his back and his hips keep pressing against yours as he slowly drags out your highs, cum dripping down his thighs as he tries to fuck it back into you.

“Fuck, I feel so full,” you manage to let out in surprise after regaining your breath. Ran lets go of you the moment his mind is clearer, and when you feel him slip out from within you, for a moment you’re scared he’s gonna get dressed and leave you laying there.

But Ran just parts your legs before you can close them in shyness, and takes one good look at the mess you’ve both made before diving in. He’s happy he’s gotten to fuck you raw, so now he gets to taste how good you are together.

You’re still so sensitive that when his tongue makes contact with your folds, you tremble. He takes his time in eating it out of you, loud smacks and wet noises can be heard as he does, along with his hums of approval, “Mhh, taste so fucking good, baby. Wanna try?”

You furiously nod at that, dragging him away from your heat before he gets in his head that he needs to make you come again; you don’t think you’d be able to do that now, the overstimulation from those simple touches already taking you to the verge of crying for him.

Ran finally kisses you again, tongue slipping past your lips to make do with his promise, and you moan in appreciation at the taste of you combined. Everything he does is just so fucking hot.

He doesn’t stop once you do, and risks stripping you of your breath completely, but you’re not any better. The last thing you want now is for him to not kiss you anymore, so you grip his infamous hair once again, scratching his scalp with your nails as you’ve always liked doing to get a reaction out of him.

Ran shakes in your hold, he has to pull away or he’s gonna fuck you all over. He can feel himself getting hard against your thigh, so he decides to leave your embrace. He’s aware of the elephant in the room, and his maturity is screaming at him to talk things out before he can fall right back into it.

“Ran… please, don’t leave,” he glances back at you because of the way your voice breaks while muttering that sentence. His heart clenches when he sees your lash line glisten with unshed tears, so his hands find their way to your pretty face to hold it as he stands close to the edge of the bed, bending over you. He kisses the tip of your nose, then takes your mouth in a chaste kiss.

“‘M not going anywhere, my love. Just need to take care of my pretty girl. Give me one minute and I’ll be right back, okay?”

A simple “‘mkay,” leaves your lips in a mumble, and Ran helps remove the sheet from under your spent body to cover you with it before leaving the room.

It takes you a few seconds to elaborate on everything. Aside from what happened in the past hour, you’re now fixating on the names he just called you. My love. My pretty girl.

His? You definitely are, you just didn’t think he knew.

Once he steps back in the room, you notice he’s cleaned himself up and wore his discarded boxers. You take him in while he walks closer, silently appreciating his physique as you’re used to doing. But this time you get to recognize the bruises and red marks littering his body as something you’ve done yourself.

As promised, he’s carrying a wet towel and a bottle of water, and he carefully cleans you up with the former.

After making sure you’re hydrated, he settles by your side under the sheets and drapes his arms around your waist as both of you lay on your respective sides, facing one another.

“I was planning on giving you a gift, after the party was over, y’know? But you just had to run away,” he lets out a big sigh, as if thinking back to your fight makes him drained all over again.

“What is it?” You ask, as curious as always. He loves this side of you. He loves you, actually.

“I gave Rin one of my braids after I cut them off. I was thinking about giving you the other one,” your eyes widen, and the movement of your fingers running over his collarbone stops as you ponder over his words. “I know how much you like them, so did I. Want my two favorite people to keep them safe for me.”

Your heart has never beaten this fast, you think it might start overheating and set your whole body on fire. You bat your eyelashes, willing the tears away as you hook your hands under his face, gently stroking his jaw.

“Thank you,” is the last thing you whisper before closing the distance, repaying him with another short but sweet kiss.

When you separate, you lean your forehead against his and he softly calls your name. In the closeness of your embrace, you meet his lavender haze, “I love you.”

The only thing that follows his sentence is silence. You think you must’ve fallen asleep, this has to be another one of your dreams, one of those sweet ones you used to have when Ran still had his braids and the two of you were younger.

Ran could easily take your stillness as an answer. He could fall victim to his hidden insecurities and make you think he meant it in a platonic way to somewhat try and save what remains of your friendship. But he knows that no matter what your response to his confession might be, he wouldn’t take it back for the world. There’s simply no getting over you.

“Don’t misunderstand,” He knows how much you overthink, that’s why he should’ve said this before. “I’m in love with you, always have been.”

You think your heart must’ve stopped completely now.

“Ran…” “Sh, I know, it’s okay.” He feels the need to comfort you straight away, to let you know that not sharing his feelings is okay. He’s always gonna be there for you, no matter what. “God, Ran, I love you so much.”

The lips that suddenly find his, again and again, are not the only thing taking his breath away. Both of you cannot believe how stupid you are, how you’ve been in love this whole time while thinking the other could never see you that way. His hands are all over your heated skin, caressing down your back as you hold him closer.

“Want you to be mine, baby.”

“‘m yours Ran,” his kisses are spreading everywhere he can reach, he’s getting drunk on you once again. Bitten lips part to let out panting breaths, and you notice soon enough how the newfound confessions are affecting not only yours truly.

Heady eyes and tinted cheeks present themselves to you. You think the marron of his natural blush and the shade of purple staining his pale skin look a lot like the color of the hair that started this all. You love it already, just like you love him.

And Ran lets you happily grip onto it as he takes you again and again, that night. No more wet dreams that leave you running away from him, he’s gonna make sure to fill your nights with something that’ll make you want him even closer, every day, from now on.

Right before falling asleep, as dawn leaves space for daylight behind your closed curtains, you take one last look at your sleepy Ran.

You comb back his messy hair to uncover his pretty face, softly kissing his forehead before falling into a dreamless sleep. There’s no need for dreaming anymore, you have everything you want and need right here in your arms.

Might have to send his hairstylist a bottle of wine as thanks, though.

#ran haitani #ran smut #ran haitani smut #ran x reader #ran haitani x reader #ran x you #ran haitani x you #ran x y/n #ran haitani x y/n #ran x oc #ran imagines #ran haitani imagines #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo rev smut #bonten smut #bonten #haitani rindou

[bitchimasnake-sss]

from me to you ft. roronoa zoro!

set-up: anon asked me to write angst :) 32 year zoro had lost you two years ago. but when he finds himself back in time, face to face with a 22 year old and and alive you, what will he do?

warnings: none, just some good ole angst; not proofread at all :/

"how did you get that scar then?" chopper asked, tracing another deep scar on the older man's shoulder.

"i was fighting a warlord." the older zoro shrugged, finding comfort in the way the young reindeer marvelled at his story.

"did you win then?" ussop asked next.

the younger version of the swordsman cut in, "ofcourse he did. he's me."

"not to credit you," the older version bickered, "but yes ofcourse, i did win."

"what do you mean 'not to credit you'. i am the reason you even got to that point-"

"yes but you didn't fight the warlord, i did."

"I AM YOU-"

"oh my god, stop bickering with yourself" nami groaned, "when will the rest be back? im growing so tired of looking after you children."

"i am a decade older than you." the older swordsman answered back.

the rest of the crew was out exploring the port town where the sunny was docked. it was about to be sun-down and the two zoros, nami, ussop and chopper waited for the others to return back.

hours passed and the older man had found himself walking around the ship, reminiscing in the old times. somehow, for someone as much of a shitty memory as him, he could recall every stain, every dent. he could recall every place ussop fucked up or luffy damaged or you-

you. you. you.

and now he could hear footsteps on the deck. more importantly, he could hear you. so, his feet moved to their own accord. he navigated through the ship easily, muscle memory taking ahold of his body. taking him to the deck, taking him to you.

the older swordsman stepped out onto the happening deck and there you were.

you - along with the rest of the crew - turned your attention to the green-haired man that had materialized on the deck. and then, the entire crew erupted into chaos. the younger version of luffy comically looked from one zoro to another, sanji stood with his mouth wide apart and robin looked slightly alarmed.

but none of that mattered.

none of them were you.

the twenty-two year old version of you was looking at the older man, mildly amused. you giggled and then poked nami, saying something along the lines of "he looks like a dilf" or something. but the older man didn't care, or more so he couldn't.

it was night yet he could point out every wayward freckle across your cheek. you shivered and he held back from giving you his kimono. you walked over to his younger version and that green-haired boy pressed a kiss to your forehead the same way he wanted to.

you were there.

in flesh and blood, you were there.

and maybe that's why he turned his back on you and walked into that old cabin of his. maybe that's why he locked the door and slumped against the wood with a heavy sigh. maybe that's why he covered his eyes with his palm and tried to blink the tears away.

you were gone. you had been, for the past two years. and he had learnt to live with that absence. learnt to swallow down any memories of you that came creeping up like bile. learnt to only smile in his dreams when he saw you again.

shouldn't he be happy he saw you again? shouldn't he be glad you smiled at him again? he should be, right?

then why wasn't he? why did it hurt him more to see you laughing that it did when he saw your cold corpse?

"uhm-" your voice called from outside, unsure, "zo- zoro? are you in there?"

he pressed his palm flatter against his eyes and sighed, "i'll be out in a minute, please wait"

"are you okay?" you asked softly and when he didn't reply, you asked again, "can i come in?"

wordlessly, he turned around and opened the door. and wordlessly, you crashed against him, hugging the older man.

letting go of whatever restraints he had, he held you against him tightly. he closed his eyes, relishing in the way your warmth felt against him, the way your cheek was resting against his chest, the way your tresses tickled his skin.

"you looked like you could use a hug." you mumbled against him, "it must be insane, to go through this time travel thing right?"

but the older man just pursed his lips tighter, trying to hold onto the love of his life as long as he could. he tried to fight off the welling tears as you let go of him and looked up at him.

"you smell nice. looks like you're actualy showering huh?" you laughed, "and i can't believe you got even more tall. i look like a child in front of you!"

zoro smiled despite himself, "hate to break it to ya, but you stay this size your entire life."

"what?! no!" you laughed again in disbelief, "really??"

he just nodded and you hit his chest playfully. then you said, "well i have so many questions for you. should i ask? please please pl-"

"anything for you." he replied mindlessly.

"look at you, such a romantic. your younger version could learn a thing or two." you paused, "my future version must be really happy with you, huh- wait, we're still together right?"

zoro was silenced. then, he put on a smile, "yeah, we are. and i guess she's pretty happy."

"are you?"

it was a simple question and yet, zoro felt like his being was set ablaze by just those two words. though his mouth felt like it was full of tar, he managed to say, "yeah, more or less"

you cocked an eyebrow, "you know you're a terrible liar."

"i-" he gave you a tired smile, "things have just been hard for the past few years, that's all."

"oh," you gave him a nudge, "but as long you've got me, things will be okay, yeah?"

he scoffed, as if rejecting your suggestion. you met the older man's gaze with confusion, as if asking him if you said something wrong.

his eyes softened, voice barely audible. he asked you, "and what if i lost you?"

"dumbass, you can never lose me. i'm with you, always."

"what if?"

"then..." you pondered for a second. finally, you raised your wrist to the green-haired swordsman's eyelevel. the silver charm bracelet shone dimly in the lit room. you shook your wrist and the soft melody of the charms filled the room, "you can keep this, to remember me."

zoro's gaze was transfixed on the charm bracelet, his eye catching each miniscule metallic movement, "you- you lost this bracelet."

"i did?" you tilted your head.

"i mean- in a couple years you will. we had docked on a summer island and you lost it while exploring the town."

you watched the way the man stared at your wrists and you made your decision, "take it."

"but it's your favourite jewelry-"

"well, if i'm gonna lose it anyways-" you took off the bracelet with little trouble, "then i think you should keep it."

you gave him another smile, delicately placing the dainty bracelet in his calloused palm, "maybe you can give it back to my future self when you're back in the present. i am sure she'd like the surprise of having it back."

before zoro could protest, his younger version barged into the cabin. the younger boy hissed at the older man, "give me back my girlfriend, oldy."

the older man didn't ignore the way you laughed. you took languid steps to reach the younger boy and then you melted in his arm as you laughed.

he loved you then, he loved you now. he knows he would love you beyond this.

and that's all that matters.

roronoa zoro, aged 32, had disappeared for three days. he refused to tell anyone where he had gone. but when he returned, he sported a new chain round his neck with old charms. nobody on the crew bought the chain up, they didn't need to.

because for the first time in two years, the swordsman could crack open a smile when he greeted them.

and that's all that mattered.

💗a/n: definitely gonna be posting sanji's part as soon as im done with it! sanji's part

#one piece #opla #op #roronoa zoro #zoro x reader #one piece zoro #zoro fluff #zoro fic #one piece imagines #one piece angst #zoro angst #roronoa zoro x reader

[pussy-ache]

honestly now that i’ve had a week to digest it…what the fuck

#see this? this is why i walked away #someone elses manic explosive episodes lead to ME getting hurt #i was right to walk when i did and i’m right now #and i didn’t deserve it. it was uncalled for and unfair #i still feel like an object and he can rot in hell for that #i used to feel like i triggered it..kinda like it was my fault i guess. i’ve come to terms with how that was abusive in and of itself #idk if i’ll ever be able to really talk about it with a therapist because i already KNOW what they’re gonna say #i know it’s normal to feel conflicted. like a victim but also like i made my own choices and knew what i was getting myself into #sometimes i sit back and i’m like … was it only 6 months? it felt like a decade #and then the other side of me is like … stop complaining it was only 6 months #the thing is i never truly felt like it was out of my control #idk it was just…not a long time i know. but heaven and hell at the same time #maybe i’ll write some haikus about it #not a relationship. more like an entanglement. but would i take it back? …i don’t think so tbh. what does that say about me? #what does it say about me that i liked the darkness?

[babygorewhore]

I’ll follow you until you love me.

The moment Eddie Munson saw you, he thought you were perfect and once he finds your social media, it gives him insight into your world. But he can’t get enough of you. Eddie can’t stop himself from acting on his desire to follow you. Eddie is determined to make you his. But maybe he’s not as subtle as he thinks.

This is my installment of a shared universe with a mutual. Who will be writing her installment of this universe soon.

Warnings! Smut! 18plus only! Stalker! Eddie. Obsession. Oral! Fem recieving! Unprotected PnV! Fem reader is alternative/goth in this. Eddie is a Bartender. I’m sick and I edited once so if you saw mistakes ignore them.

Eddie knew he was breaking some sort of code. But he couldn’t find it in himself to stop. He was…addicted. You weren’t even friends. Friendly at best. He knew you for only a couple of weeks. Your parents owned his favorite music store and he was sorting through the collection of Black Sabbath CDs when he saw you for the first time in the same aisle.

He immediately fell for you. Everything about you was perfect. Your body. Your face. Your clothes. Your voice. Eddie was completely mesmerized when you both had a conversation about why CDs were essential to the music listening experience. It took everything in him not to kiss you and ruin your pretty lipstick.

As soon as he was alone in his van, he yanked out his phone. Typed in your name and hunted for any sign of accounts you had. He didn’t even use his social media but you would be the exception. You were everything. After several minutes, he finally found your pretty picture. He sighed and leaned back in the seat.

It was your instagram. And in your bio you listed your tik tok, twitter and even your Facebook. Jackpot. Eddie’s eyes scanned over your uploads, his breathing getting heavier. It was almost as if he had a taste of your life. Your world.

The whole week in between his shift at work and when he came home, he devoured everything you posted. He watched every video you reposted, he needed to know your humor, your likes, your dislikes. He couldn’t tear himself away from looking at you.

One night, you posted your work schedule for the next week at the music store. And that’s when he decided he needed to see you again.

His shift ended at the Hawkins bar two hours after he originally planned because some fuckwad didn’t know how to show up on time. The music store would only be open for another hour so he raced to his van and probably broke three laws speeding to the building.

He speedily parked, exited and practiced in his head what he would say. He needs a copy of the band you liked Bad Omens. You posted about them all the time. Eddie needed the physical copy. Something you both talked about so it wouldn’t be weird if he asked for a disc. He inhaled and pushed open the door, glancing around as the bell rung. A collection of people were here, he tried to keep his cool. The CDS. His hair was tied into a bun and he wore all black just like you always did. He shook his head and confidently strides to the shelves.

It was different. More organized. All the decades were correct. Everything was straightened. You had the magic touch. Eddie smiled when his fingers grazed over the plastic, you had touched these. He saw Bad omens right away, but he came here for help. He purposely took a step back and wore a confused expression.

“Eddie?” There. There you were. His cock twitched. Goosebumps rose on his skin. He didn’t turn right away, no. You wouldn’t get it that easy. As badly as he wanted to turn around and-

Your hand gently grazed his shoulder. He wanted to rip off his leather jacket to feel your fingers on his bare skin and his breath shuddered. Finally, he shifted in your direction. Eddie almost kissed you. He had to plant his feet heavily on the floor to prevent himself. Your eyes were soft, searching his brown irises. Small crinkles around your brows showed hours of work but your mouth was curved into a polite, curious smile. You wore all black, a bad omens shirt, leggings and boots. A small name tag was right above your heart. You looked perfect. But he focused on your lipstick, the same you wore that first day. He wanted to smear your makeup. Make it run down your face while you were on your knees. He wanted to grip your hair and guide you through-

“It is Eddie, right? Don’t tell me I forgot.” He jerked his head.

“Yes. It’s Eddie. I’m glad you’re here. I’m in serious need of a music recommendation,” Eddie internally melted when you flashed him a grin.

“Well, I’m happy to assist you. I’m assuming you want this in the form of a CD?” You gave him a knowing look.

He clapped his hands. “ You remembered that. Yes. Always.” You giggled and you extended your hand towards the collection of CDs on the shelves.

“What sound are you looking for? I know you like metal. But do you want a classic recommendation, something underrated or unknown?” You sounded so considerate. You were doing your job, he knew that. But he clung to whatever interest you gave him.

“Honestly, what are you listening too? I want something different. You can only listen to so much Metallica and Black Sabbath,” Eddie dramatically pressed a finger to his lips. “Don’t tell anyone I said that.”

You nodded in kind. “Your secret is safe with me. But I can’t believe you’re actually asking for my opinion.”

“Why? I mean, I’d assume someone who shares my appreciation for metal has great taste.” He saw you from the corner of his eye, you dip your head down for a second. He needed to pace this conversation, withhold what he knows. He just needs to keep hearing your voice. He was almost trembling from the way you were accepting his attempts at charm.

“I mean-If I’m being honest. My favorite band is Bad Omens.” Eddie raised his eyebrows and nodded towards your shirt. His shoulders relaxed. Finally. This was how it went in his head.

“I haven’t listened to them. I’ve seen them on tik tok, but I just haven’t dived in.” He hoped you believed his lie.

“Excuse me?” You both turned and a older man stood at the entrance. Wearing a guns and roses shirt and light blue jeans. “I need help.”

Eddie’s chest burned. No, no, no. He just got you talking. You face him with a shadow of disappointment dancing across your features. He wanted to scream at the man but he had to stay calm. He couldn’t risk you seeing him differently. You didn’t hardly know him.

Yet.

“I’m sorry, Eddie. Gotta help him. But the CD is right there, and if you ring the bell someone will check you out. It was nice seeing you! I hope you like it!”

He was struggling to bury his anger even long after he paid for the album and made his way home. Eddie paced his room. You. You were so beautiful. So sweet. He wanted to keep listening to you talk. He wanted to know every single band you loved. He wanted-no, he needed more of you. He dug his phone out of his pocket.

Settling on his bed, knees spread apart, his thump quickly found your profile. You had so many followers. So many people watching, commenting and sharing with you online. He clenched his jaw when he looked at your story. Eddie blinked at the loud music attached. You had a closed lipped smile and your eyes were shut. And the caption talked about how much you hated rude customers. But then he recognized the song. It was Bad Omens.

He chewed his bottom lip. Was that because of him? Were you thinking about him? The same way he thought of you? He turned up the volume. Listened carefully. Was this song on the album he bought? He picked up the bag and yanked out the plastic, reading the song list on the back . Yes. It was. Eddie pressed the CD against his chest. You touched it. He brought it higher, over his chin until his lips pressed against it. He held it against his mouth, while he stared at your photo.

Eddie had memorized your work schedule. Maybe he could stop by again tomorrow. Fuck, he couldn’t. He had to work and It was too soon. You would be confused.

He couldn’t fit anymore CDs on his shelf but he would fucking build a new one if that meant he could buy more from you.

The next day he was in his car. Parked across the street with a few cars giving distance from the music store. He didn’t plan it. He was going into work in a hour. But He just needed to see you. Just look at you. That’s it. A death of Peace of mind album was playing in his van and his jaw was clenching so hard from waiting for you to step out. He had fell asleep with his phone on his chest from frantically scrolling on your profile last night.

He didn’t know how his resolution disappeared so quickly. But he couldn’t stop thinking about how sweet you were. How quickly his conversation with you ended. He couldn’t stand it. He needed more. Eddie’s breathing shortened when the entrance opened and you stepped out. You adjusted your bag, shuffled to close the door behind you and cast your search around the direction of the street.

He gripped the steering wheel, so hard his hands trembled as you moved aside for a stranger. You smiled brightly then you started to walk in the opposite direction. His eyes trailed down your body. Black jeans, black hoodie and converse. They lingered on the curve of your thighs in those pants. But he frowned. Were you walking home? You didn’t have a car?

Without a second thought, he turned the keys. In the back of his mind, he knew he was going overboard. He had work. He needed to leave. Soon. But god damn he just needed to make sure you got home safe. His van came alive and he maneuvered onto the street. There was a stop light coming, and he sped up to try and beat it before it turned red. He didn’t know how he would remain invisible as he followed you, but he had to try.

Eddie wasn’t sure how he managed, but you didn’t turn to see his van. Your apartment wasn’t far from the store thank fuck. He settled across the street, behind two cars. The same tactic he used earlier. You jogged up the driveway, where there wasnt a car. His suspicions confirmed. The complex wasn’t big, it looked similar to his own.

He glanced at the clock. He needed to get going. He hated being late. But your address was seared into his mind. He would never forget it. Eddie pulled out his phone, frantically clicking on your instagram. You had a new story. You were smiling, an adorable grin and your fingers were held in a peace sign. The caption said you were finally home. He wanted to help you relax. Spread your legs and make you see stars and never think about a stressful day again.

His dick was growing hard as he imagined your sweet face. Covered in his cum. Your eyeliner running down your cheeks. His hand ghosted the center of his pants before he stopped.

No. No he wouldn’t touch himself. He needed you. He needed to cum inside you. You deserved better than him jerking off in his car before he had the privilege of being with you. Eddie exhaled, forcing himself to drive.

The night shift was always packed. Plus as the manager, he was responsible for training and handling reckless drinkers. His hair was tied up, his usual style for his shift and his sleeves were rolled up, muscles flexing as he slid a glass to a guest. But his mind was a whirlwind. He hadn’t been able to check his phone. What were you doing? Were you relaxing? He was buzzing with energy. He hadn’t even told Steve about you yet, who apparently was busy with his own infatuation. Eddie kept looking at the clock. He had to stay over again but closing was coming soon. Halloween was in just a few days. What were you going to do? Dress up? Go to a party? Fuck, he needed to know.

He had fucking fell asleep before he had a chance to look at your instagram when he got home well after 3am. He crashed on his couch, still wearing his work clothes with his phone in his pocket where it died. Eddie practically shoved the end of the charger into his phone, his leg bouncing from waiting for it to turn back on. He knew he should have charged it. Now, it would take longer to see you.

He wanted to touch himself as he imagined your lips wrapped around him, choking on his dick as his hand is gripping your hair. His hand even drifted to his crotch until he stopped himself. No, he promised himself he wouldn’t cum until it was inside you. You were his. He checked his phone again as it finally came back to life. His fingers were frantic as they clicked on your name.

You uploaded a new story. Eddie sighed in relief. As it came up, your face looked tired. You weren’t smiling, instead you were holding up a glass, clinking it with another glass belonging to your best friend. His chest tightened. He wanted to be there. He wanted to drink with you, hold you and take care of you. You had to walk home. And he had to fucking work. He swiped to the next story.

It was this morning, he knew only because of the time included. Just an hour ago. You were smiling this time. It was your day off and you were thrilled to to go the Halloween store today. Eddie couldn’t stop looking at your bright eyes, the excitement and he needed to see it again. In person.

He had to try. He would go the store. Pretend he was looking for a Halloween costume. But when? You didn’t give a time. It didn’t matter. He would stay all day and wait. It was his day off too.

Eddie threw himself in the shower, got dressed and drove to the store. It didn’t matter if it was an hour away. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t planned dressing up, or that he would have to swap schedules. You were on his mind. Whatever you were doing, he wanted to be a part of it.

Bad omens played loudly in his van as he came into the parking lot. Eddie’s heart started to hammer as he unbuckled and stepped out. His neck was warm at the thought of hearing your voice again so he tied his hair up.

Opening the door, he was greeted with gruesome decor, rows of costumes and several people shopping. Fuck, how was he supposed to find you? If you were even here yet? His shoe tapped impatiently as he was torn on where to go. Costumes. That’s where he’d start. But what kind? Sexy? Scary? in between?

As he walked down the section, he pretended to search. His rings occasionally getting caught in the fabrics and plastic. He wasn’t interested in this. He didn’t want to participate without you. Oh god, who drove you here? Were you going to be alone? He didn’t think about that. He just moved. Eddie dug out his phone from his pocket.

“Hey, Eddie! Is that you?”

He froze.

Eddie turned around and there you were.

This time, you were wearing a dress. A black one. With a matching sweater and combat boots. But his eyes fell to the tattoo on your chest. He hadn’t seen it because you always wore higher neck tops. Eddie almost salivated. Your makeup was dark again with your apparent favorite lipstick. He wanted to touch your skin, run his tongue along the art. He knew you would taste sweet. So sweet.

“Yeah, it’s me.” Eddie dropped into a serious expression. “Are you following me?”

Your eyes widened and you shook your head. “No, I just saw you-“ Then he grinned. He knew he was such a tease.

“I’m joking, sweets. I’m just here for my Halloween costume.” Such a fucking lie. But he needed to establish a common ground.

You sighed in relief.

“Me too. We had the same idea.” You didn’t protest at the nickname. Eddie tried not to smirk. You were happy to see him. He had to ball his fists to keep from touching you.

“What are you going as? I haven’t decided.” Eddie forced himself to sound light hearted but he truly needed an idea. You set the stage on his actions.

You gestured, “Follow me and I’ll show you.”

And then you stuck out your hand. Eddie thought he would bust in his pants. He accepted as you gently guided him to the other side of the store, where a large amount of costumes were hanging on the wall. Your grip was firm, warm and steady. You were confident in taking his hand. Eddie’s eyes were glued to your lower half, covered by the fitted dress. Your calves peeked out from the slits on the side. He saw more ink. How many tattoos did you have? He wanted to explore them. Compare them to his. You came to a stop and released him. Eddie wanted to stop you, grab your hand again.

“I’m going with this,” You pointed to the hanging plastic bag and Eddie followed direction.

The picture was a Sweeney Todd costume. Fake blood included and wig. It would be hot. You could pull off anything. But the wig he wanted to protest against. Covering your perfect hair? The hair he wanted to dig his fingers in and pull? Caress? Both? “That’s a great one. I think you’ll stand out. Not everyone knows that reference.”

You smiled again. Eddie felt like he won the lottery. “I like to stand out from the crowd, I guess. My best friend is throwing a Halloween party this year. And I finally had the day off to come here.” Eddie nodded, swallowing the urge to reveal he already knew that.

“I hope you’re not working too hard but I can’t stop listening to the CD. You knew exactly what I needed.” Your hands reached up, pressing against your chest. “You really like it? I’m not used to someone actually agreeing with me.” Eddie couldn’t believe that. Who could resist you? Who wouldn’t give your favorite band a try? He would fix that problem.

“Why wouldn’t I like it, sweets? I’ll have to get more recommendations soon, it makes my driving more exciting.” You opened your mouth to respond but something caught your eye and you excitedly beamed.

Eddie turned, desperate to find what caught your attention other than him.

“That’s my favorite slasher movie! If I hadn’t already decided on this, I would wear that.” Eddie’s eyes widened. It was a Ghostface costume. Why didn’t he know that? He ground his teeth. He should have looked closer at your posts. Maybe he would have seen it. You had amazing taste in movies.

“An amazing movie. That would have also been a perfect choice. But I’m not sure anyone could be scared of you, pretty girl. You’re way too sweet.” The names slipped out his mouth before he could catch himself. But you dipped your head and bashfully peeked at him through your lashes.

He couldn’t believe this was happening. He itched to say more, compliment you more but he didn’t want to freak you out. Especially considering he watched your instagram everyday to know exactly what you were doing but he needed you. He would do whatever he needed to make you feel the same way.

Your phone started to ring. Eddie wanted to beg you not to answer. No, stay here in the moment. You sighed, holding the device up. “It’s my dad. I need to take this. But I hope I’ll see you at the store again! And maybe we can talk more. You really get me.” And then you turned away, quietly speaking to your father.

Each time he managed to speak to you, get somewhere, it was interrupted. But this wouldn’t be wasted. No. Eddie moved away from you, as painful as it was and quickly picked up the Ghostface costume. He didn’t know how he would make this work but god damn it he would.

Eddies emotions went beyond his limit when he was hunched over, phone glued to his hand as he poured over your story on his bed when he got home. Your stories consisted of showing off the costume you bought and then several memes about Halloween being everyday for you. And then you posted your old looks. Most of them were edgy, skulls, prosthetics and some were even masks. Except one. You were wearing a short, thigh high black dress. Fishnets and heels. Your face painted with the Crow makeup. Your chest ink and your leg tattoos were on display.

The intricate thorns that wrapped around both thighs but on the left center was a large showing of multiple flowers. On the right was a skull, jaw slightly open to allow a dark snake to wrap around.

His cock felt like it was going to burst but he would not give in. He just didn’t know what to do. How would he get into the party? Sneak in? He was going insane.

And that’s when Steve hit him up. When Eddie answered the phone, Steve proceeded to explain that there was a Halloween party at a penthouse. And the owner just so happened to be your best friend.

Eddie thanked whatever universe, energy or even a God if he even bothered to look at him considering what he was doing. It was Halloween night. He wore the long, black gown. A black shirt and jeans underneath. Heavy boots. Most importantly, the Mask. Steve charmed the security, getting them both inside. The lights were off only to be be replaced with LED strips covering the edges of the wall and even the ceiling.

The living room was spacious, modern furniture and sleek tables covered in red cups, beer bottles and liquor bottles. He squinted his eyes, his vision obscured by the mask. No one paid much attention to him, most people had some sort of horror film costume, he wasn’t the only Ghostface. Fuck. How would you tell it was him? He did all of this for you. Music blared, he could feel it in his chest as he walked around the penthouse. Stepping on decorations fallen to the wood floor.

Steve left his side but Eddie knew he was looking for the hostess of this party. Where were you?

There.

His breath hitched and he froze in the doorway of the kitchen. You were pouring a drink in a solo cup. Your costume was perfect. The white puffed sleeves, black vest and striped pants. Fake blood coated your hands, darkening your fingernails. You weren’t wearing a wig, instead you had the signature white streak in your hair. Good. You didn’t need the wig. He opened his mouth to talk but you turned and started walking into the next room.

No. No. Why did he take so fucking long? He was here right now. He used so much effort to be close to you. Eddie took a steadying breath. And he walked directly behind you, he kept trying to tap your shoulder but you were quick. Nearly jogging. His boots hit against the floor, growing louder from speed. You maneuvered through the crowd. Where you going? He almost lost you but you started climbing the stairs where more cobwebs and pumpkins sat.

Were you running from him? From someone else? Was your best friend up here? His mind raced with endless options as he continued prowling behind you. No one was here. He almost slammed into you as you abruptly halted.

You spun around.

“Eddie, why are you following me?” Oh, fuck.

Up close, your makeup was messy. Eyeliner smudged heavily, your lips were dark and glossy. You looked up at him through lashes. But you didn’t sound angry. Or fearful.

You sounded…playful.

He tilted his head. “I was-“

“It’s okay, Eddie. I know you’ve been following me. I know every time you look at my pictures. I knew that you followed me home. And it wasn’t an accident at the store the other day. I was hoping you would buy this.” You reached over, grasping the material of the cloak between your fingers.

Eddie grew hot. He thought he could be subtle but apparently not. You knew the whole time. But why weren’t you upset? He didn’t want you to be. But that would have been naive.

He clutched your hand. “I couldn’t help it. You’re perfect. The moment I saw you, I knew I needed you. I needed to see you, make sure you were safe. I can’t get you out of my mind. Fuck. And I just wanted to be here tonight to finally talk to you without being interrupted. All I’ve done is listen to the album you love. I know you said you weren’t mad but please, god I need you. I need to feel you. I need to-“

“Fuck me?” You finished. “Did you touch yourself while looking at me, Eddie?”

He was buzzing, ignited from the way your lips were in a smirk. You stepped closer and with your free hand, you removed his mask. His hair was even messier and his nostrils flared as he took in your perfume.

He was almost against the wall but he couldn’t take it. Eddie’s hands gripped your hips and he smashed his lips to yours. You tasted better than he imagined. And you met his intensity. Eddie flipped so you were the one pinned against the wall, diving his tongue inside your mouth. His cock was so hard it hurt and he pressed his pelvis against yours, grinding into you. A moan escaped your mouth and he reached down, grasping your knee and pulling it around his hip. He could feel how wet you were through your pants.

Eddie ripped away from your mouth, moving to concentrate to the soft skin of your neck when you grabbed him by his arm and burst through a door he didn’t notice was there. He only had time to register a bed in the center of the room before you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and pulled his bottom lip with your teeth. “I wanted you the first day you came in,” You murmured. Eddie pushed your back against the bed, landing him on top of you and he straddled your lap.

“I-can I-can I fuck you?” He had to ask, as frenzied as he felt, he needed you to want it as much as he did.

“Fuck, Eddie. Yes, I want it so bad.” You whined, arching your back into him as he buried his face in your neck, peppering kisses against your jaw before sucking the spot above your collar bone.

You tore off the cloak, before taking off his black shirt with it and running your hands down his chest, stomach before tugging his belt. Eddie lifted his head, helping you as he kicked off his jeans. But he wanted to taste you. He slid down, peeling off your tight pants and your underwear. Eddie got impossibly harder as you mewled as he separated your legs.

Your cunt dripped with arousal and he spread it apart, coating his thick fingers. He dove in, flattening his tongue against your clit. Eddie moaned at your sweet taste as he licked down your slit before slipping his tongue inside you. You were jerking your hips to hump his face, his nose continually hitting the sensitive nerves in the center.

“I’m gonna cum.” Eddie didn’t speed up, he stayed hungrily lapping your pussy and your movement locked, your thighs squeezing his head. The entire lower half of his face was glistening as he pulled away.

Eddie crawled over you and captured your lips in a bruising kiss. Smearing cum all over your mouth, messing your lipstick even further. Just like he imagined.

“Please, fuck me.” You whimpered and he clumsily took off his boxers, releasing his heavy cock leaking with precum.

Eddie lined his dick against you before pressing inside, stretching your pussy as you clenched around him. He groaned from deep in his chest and shuddered. Your nails dug into his skin as he started thrusting, deep and hard. The bed was slamming against the wall.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking perfect, baby.”

He couldn’t even speak anymore, you felt so good he saw stars and he loved the pain from you scratching him. “I’m-I’m close.”

He wanted to hold off for you but the way you cried out, burying your face on his shoulder, Eddie spilled into you. Fuck condoms, he thought. His breath came in choked pants as he pulled out and scooped you into his arms. He was completely naked and you only had a shirt on, that he planned on removing once he caught his breath.

“I can’t believe you knew the whole time. And I can’t believe you liked me back.”

Your head turned as he held you close to him, his arms tight around you. He never wanted to let you go. Now that he’s tasted you, he could never stop.

“Eddie, why do you think I let you follow my account? Why do you think I told you to listen to bad omens? I wanted you to think about me. Besides, your friend Steve pulling the same move on my best friend.”

Holy shit. My first Eddie fic. I’m back with fics! Huge thanks to my tumblr wife @xxhellfirebunnyxx for helping me with this, encouraging me and beta reading. And my little sister @scene-and-dandylover for always supporting me.

Taglist for this!

@reidsbtch @battymunson @take-everything-you-can @ifeeltoofuckingmuch @taintandviolent @hyperharlz @elaine-in-the-membrane @onegirlmanytales @randominstake

If I forgot about have mercy I am tired

#eddie munson series #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson x you #Stalker! eddie #eddie smut

[thatfreshi]

Hi! Can I request a story about Tav having trouble fighting cause Astarion just fed on her and so he gets worried and protective ofc. Maybe they were ambushed at camp or something? Thank you so much for your work! I really like how you write Astarion

Tw - animal attack, lots of gore, themes of death

Recommended Song: Seek and Destroy - SZA

Against better judgment, you let Astarion feed on you almost every night. It's just one of those things, a sacrifice you make, an act of love. After decades of disrespect, scavenging for next to nothing, you thought it'd be nice for him to have something better than animals. While he always insists it isn't necessary, he never passes you up on the offer. A ritual before bed every night, like a lover's embrace, you've come to adore the feeling of his teeth.

This evening in particular, he took quite a bit. You don't mind, considering you go to bed almost right after. Light-headed, woozy, you're wrapped up in his arms.

"Thank you darling."

His embrace almost feels warm when you're this drained. You almost drift off, but he keeps you awake.

"Tav, you need to eat something first."

You groan, absolutely exhausted, trying to keep him in the bedroll.

"Nooo, I'll just do it tomorrow."

He smiles, moving your hair out of your eyes.

"That's not how it works my sweet. Now, let me get up so I can-"

Goblin war drums. The sound of the percussive rhythms bouncing off all the trees, they're not far off, and Astarion knows they're on the way. Karlach starts making her way to every tent, telling your companions to get their asses in gear.

"Tav, Astarion, let's go!"

"Shit."

Astarion whispers to himself. You're still not fully there, in and out of sleep.

"What's going on?"

Double vision, you see two of your vampire lover get up and start rummaging around for his daggers.

"Just- just stay here Tav. It's alright."

You try to rub at your eyes, desperately wanting to figure out what's going on. Before you can ask again, he's gone, and you hear more war drums outside. You quickly realize it's goblins. They must've found where you've been hiding, but your head is still spinning. Trying to get up and grab your blade, you almost fall back to the ground. Steadying yourself for a moment, you try your best to listen to what's going on outside. It sounds deadly, metal, screams. You hear Shadowheart casting left and right.

When you manage to stumble out of the tent, you're tackled by one of their dogs, or whatever wretched things they are. A scream rips out of your throat, trying to hold the thing off. It bites rabidly at your arm, leaving numerous gashes, until it's thrown off of you and stabbed to death, relentlessly.

"Gods damnit, I told you to stay in the tent Tav!"

You're too worried about your arm throbbing in pain to care about the validity of his argument. He's angry, and perhaps both of you aren't entirely certain why. It's your dominant arm, you can barely move it. Astarion goes to wrap your arm, but is quickly overpowered by the numbers again. They must've sent a large party after the lot of you. Halsin and Shadowheart are running out of magic, already drained. It's bad, but it'll end soon. With a couple more fights and a thunderwave from Gale, the rest of the goblins scurry off, knowing they're fighting a losing battle. Astarion doesn't even stop to loot their corpses, running to your side.

"You're a fucking idiot Tav, you know that?"

Gods, he could sound so mean when he wanted to. You know he says those things out of fear, but they still hurt. Despite how angry he is, he starts ripping pieces of cloth from his shirt, wrapping your arm, which is bleeding far too fast. Shadowheart and Halsin come over to supervise, both out of arcana until they get some rest.

"Yes, the two of you standing over my shoulder is quite helpful. Might as well cheer me on while you're at it!"

His movements are ragged, furious, only making your arm hurt more than it does. He's lost though, somewhere in his head, unable to hear the cries of pain as he's wrapping your arm. You're even more lost than before, your blood leaving rapidly.

"Aster, I-"

"Hush."

He then realizes you were going to tell him you were about to pass out, because you almost immediately fall over.

"Damnit!"

He holds you in his arms, your limb still not fully wrapped.

"If the two of you want to be helpful, get me some actual bandages instead of gawking at me!"

Sure, Astarion hates doing things that require hard work, but he knows how. How many times did he have to do something like this to himself, when no one was there to help wrap his wounds? Shadowheart quickly returns with all of the bandage wraps she has.

"We have to clean it or it'll get infected."

"Well, Shadowheart, I don't know how you think you're going to clean it if Tav bleeds to death."

The two healers decide it's best if he handles this himself. While he obsessively wraps your arm, the rest of the camp watches on, knowing he's too possessive to let them help. He doesn't trust them like he trusts you.

And I trusted you to stay put.

There's no way to give you more blood, not in a way that would work for you. For a moment, he simply thinks that he'll feed you some of his blood, and then he remembers. All he can do is hope you retained enough, that he didn't preemptively kill you by feeding on you tonight. Your pulse is still going, but it's slow, and you're paler than usual.

Astarion begins to think to himself, asking why he ever fell in love, why he ever let himself think twice about you. It's easy to play the game when you have nothing to lose. Second thoughts, always, he's always thinking for two people now. It's been his survival, for as long as he can remember, and now you're lodged in his brain.

"Damn you Tav, I can't do this. I can't lose you like this."

He begins to sob as he holds you, still unconscious. This beckons Gale to come over, often a voice of reason for the vampire.

"You've done all you can. Perhaps we should get Tav back inside? Away from the elements?"

Astarion is too distraught to argue, helping Gale carry you back into the tent.

"The second Shadowheart is awake, she'll be back to check on Tav."

"Yeah, if they don't die from blood loss in the middle of the night."

Gale simply sighs, knowing there's no point in fighting with him. He leaves your pale lover to wallow in his misery. Hours pass, you're still clinging on, and Astarion watches over you, panicking every time he can't see your chest rise and fall, constantly checking your pulse. You're cold, your heartbeat dangerously slow, and he keeps wracking his brain about what else he could possibly do. But there's nothing, only fate, only the gods. He sadly chuckles to himself at the thought of even trying to pray, knowing there's no higher power out there, at least one that cares about him.

"W... what are you... laughing at?"

You ask weakly, oblivious to the horrific stress he's been through. Astarion whips around quickly, wondering if perhaps he's imagining your voice. When he sees your eyes fluttering, lost somewhere between dreams and reality, he rushes to your side.

"Oh gods Tav... you- you really scared me there."

He tries to hold back tears, failing miserably. You try to speak again, but groan in pain as the feeling in your arm starts to come back.

"I know, I know it hurts. It's okay my darling, you'll be alright."

He begins fully sobbing, and you have no idea why, without being awake enough to comprehend the situation. Astarion always tries to be strong when you're weak, but watching you teeter on the line between life and death, it was simply too much to bear.

"You can't pull that shit, ever again my love, I'm so serious. I know I'm normally quite serious, but ever more so right now."

Then, a joyful, tiny laugh. Happiness. Happy that you're alive. The memories of the fight slowly start coming back, the beast that ripped up your arm, Astarion yelling.

"Aster...?"

"Yes my dear?"

You start to tear up a little, still a tad delirious.

"I'm sorry."

And then remembers as well, the things he said, the tone he spoke to you in.

"No, no my love I'm sorry. You weren't yourself, I was being entirely unreasonable. I just..."

He almost can't finish his sentence.

"I'm just happy you're okay. That's enough for me."

Your lover slowly and carefully lays down beside you, pulling you into him, being sure not to let your wounded arm drag on the ground. He holds you for a long time, until Shadowheart wakes at dawn, fully rested and ready to fix your wounds. Astarion vows silently that he'll never let it come that close, ever again.

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #angst #comfort

[marvelsmylife]

Only Yours

Pairing: Azriel x reader

Prompt: “Why are you staring at me like that? Like you’re either going to fuck me or kill me” 

Plot: the reader and Azriel are hiding in a closet in the court of nightmares. This wouldn’t be a big deal, if it weren’t for the fact you hated each other.

A/n this is a 18+ post. I’m currently planning on writing an angsty Rhysand fic, followed by a Rhysand/reader/Cassian love triangle fic that might have two endings

ACOTAR Masterlist

Prompt List

You knew you were going to have a horrible night the second Rhysand announced you were all going to the court of nightmares. He had tasked you and Azriel with retrieving something from Keir without him knowing. Unfortunately, you and Azriel were arguing about something so trivial that you didn’t notice guards were around the corner until Azriel’s shadows alerted him.

“Fuck” Azriel cured and dragged you into a cramped closet nearby.

You were about to scold Azriel for his actions when he placed his hands over your mouth and whispered: “There are guards around the corner.”

You started to panic because you typically picked up when a threat was nearby, but because you were too preoccupied with arguing with Azriel, you missed the signs. You swatted Azriel’s hand away and turned around so you weren’t facing him anymore.

Azriel wanted to tease you for your actions when you decided to lean forward and place your ear against the door so you could hear when the guards passed by. In doing so, your ass ended up being pressed up against Azriel’s crotch and causing him to accidentally let out a low moan.

That moan didn’t go unnoticed. You looked at him and mouthed: “What the hell was that.”

Azriel ignored your questions instead; he tried to steady his breath because you kept moving your ass against his crotch. He started mentally scolding his body for reacting to your movements, feeling himself growing hard against you.

You noticed something poking you from behind and asked: “What the hell is poking me?” and continued to move until you felt Azriel’s hands on your waist.

“Stop moving,” Azriel growled into your ear, causing you to stop your movements.

You carefully turned around and were met with Azriel’s eyes staring you down: “Why are you staring at me like that?”

“Like what?” Azriel asked, even though he knew what you meant.

“Like you’re either going to fuck me or kill me,” you replied as you moved away from the door and tried to move to the other side of the closet but realized how cramped the closet actually was.

A smirk appeared on Azriel’s face at your response and pulled you closer to him “Fortunately for you, I don’t want to kill you-”. Azriel lifts you up by your thighs and pins you up against the wall of the closet.

A small moan escapes your lips when you feel Azriel’s lips on your neck, his clothed erection pressed firmly against your core. “Azriel,” you whimpered while tangling your fingers in his hair: “what are we doing?”

“We’re doing what Rhysand told us to do decades ago,” Azriel’s groaned, his lips making their way up to your lip: “We’re going to fuck it out.”

One of Azriel’s hands slipped from your waist and made its way under your revealing dress: “You dirty little whore, were you planning on getting fuck tonight?” Azriel teased when he realized you weren’t wearing underwear.

“Maybe,” you teased back and caused Azriel to stop his actions: “Maybe I’m just following through with a dare. I guess you’ll never know.”

Azriel bit your lower lip in response as he managed to lower his trousers and started teasing your entrance with his cock. “You’re already wet for me. Did our little argument earlier cause you to get this wet?” Azriel murmured as he ran his cock up and down your folds a few times before he finally decided to push himself inside you.

“Fuck” you both said in unison.

You were so caught up teasing Azriel, that you didn’t think to look down and see how big he was until it was too late. 

Fortunately for you, Azriel waited a few minutes so you could adjust, but he started to. As soon as you did though, nothing was stopping Azriel from thrusting into you as fast or as rough as he wanted, and you enjoyed every minute of it.

Since this was decades' worth of pent-up tension between you, neither one of you wanted sweet and gentle. You wanted to release all the anger you had bottled up all this time.

Scratches and bite marks littered your and Azriel’s body as Azriel managed to change your position and had your face against the wall while he took you from behind. “I’m so close Az,” you cried out.

“Not yet,” Azriel managed to say, pulling out and turning you around so he could see you “I need to see you’re pretty, little face when you cum”.

You were going to complain about no longer having the shadowsinger inside you when lifts you by your thighs again and quickly buried himself inside you.

It only took Azriel a few more thrusts until he felt you tightening around him and finally cumming around his cock “Azriel!” you cried against his neck; his shadow swirled around your body as he fucked you through your orgasm.

Once your orgasm slowly washed away, you asked: “Can I touch your wings,” when you noticed Azriel was close but hadn’t orgasmed yet. Azriel, too caught up in his own pleasure, only nodded before you reached around and carefully caressed the sensitive part of his wings. 

Azriel let out a groan as he found himself cumming inside you. “That’s it Azriel,” you whimpered into Azriel’s ear: “Don’t stop.”

Azriel continued his movements until his orgasm had died down.

As much as the two of you didn’t want to, Azriel finally pulled out and set you back down: “Well that was-interesting,” you tried to laugh off while you smoothed down your dress but stopped when you noticed a serious look on Azriel’s face: “What?”

“Mine,” Azriel held onto you possessively: “You’re mine now.”

You felt yourself grinning at Azriel, suddenly feeling possessive over you. “Yours,” you smiled at Azriel: “Only yours.”

#azriel imagine #azriel x reader #azriel x you #acotar imagine #acotar x reader

[signedkoko]

OK since requests are open I thought I might as well do another ask with once again Lucifer and Lilith soooo

I ask for Lucifer x Lilith x a human reader, and uhm, maybe when Lucifer and Lilith are out for some reason. Reader gets attacked at the castle? Smthn like that but im mainly asking for maybe some type of one-shot or hcs idk with a human reader that gets hurt badly when lucifer and lilith aren't there and their reaction to such ig.

Otherwise, if you wish to not write this please tell me

And yes, Luci icon twins^^

- 𝐋.𝐁 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

Lucifer X Reader X Lilith [Romantic]

In which they aren't there to protect you from bountyhunters, and you end up greatly injured. Reader is genderneutral.

Not many attacks are made on their residence for a reason

You need to be crazy powerful to survive Lucifer, let alone Lilith and the many well-trained servants in the estate

Whoever tried either died gruesomely or was never seen again, huge powerhouses of hell wiped out in an instant

Or two, if Lilith felt like teasing them

Today was not like any other because it was baby Charlie's tenth birthday!

A decade of life was worth a large celebration, and Charlie wanted many of the servants she grew up around to be there

Of course, you were going too! Charlie had always accepted you like a parent, which you were beyond grateful for, and you'd even gotten her something special

Only halfway out the door did you realize you'd forgotten it upstairs, so you excused yourself and told Lilith to go ahead

" I don't want anyone to see! Besides, I'll bring the cool car, and Charlie can ride back in it with me! "

You also enjoyed the idea of letting the birthday girl be with her birth parents for a bit

Only, as you grabbed the present and made your way back downstairs, you heard something shatter

There were still a few guards around the palace, but still, this was nothing good if they knew to attack while the Morningstars were out

Before you could call Lucifer, a shot rang out, your phone falling to the floor as you stared at your bleeding palm

Fuck, fuck, fuck that hurt-

Clutching the present, your attempt to duck was futile as another shot rang, hitting your opposite shoulder and sending you to the floor

The pain was severe, and you knew why—this was no normal gun; it had to have been an angel weapon

" It's just a stupid servant; stop wastin' bullets. "

" But look! They're holding somethin' real nice; it looks like a crown! "

Upon hearing them talk about the gift you got for Charlie, you began crawling away

Bang!

Another shot in the knee; your vision was starting to blur with tears

Before you could get away any further, you felt a kick to your side, which sent you into the wall

" Just grab it and go. Stupid royals are probably on their way already. "

One more kick, straight to your head, and you were out

...

...

. . .

" ...ke up! Wake up! "

Your head felt fucking terrible, and when you cracked open your eyes even a bit, the light was blinding

As you adjusted, you could hear Lucifer cheering and clapping, and you could make out Lilith on the side of the bed, hushing him with one hand over yours

You could tell you were in their bed, judging by the familiar scent and room, but you had no recollection of what was happening

" Before you ask, the bountyhunters have been dealt with, dear. They hurt you. "

Lilith's voice was calming as always, and she held up your hand to caress it between both of hers, hoping to soothe you

" Bountyhunters...? "

" Thats right, I sure showed them! I wasn't sure which one did it, so Lily and I gave them all special treatment! "

Lucifer seemed proud as he held up his arms as if flexing, but his grin was a little wobbly, and you could tell he was putting up a front

Things started to puzzle together, and that was when you lifted yourself up, holding your head

" Fuck. Poor Charlie, it was her birthday! "

" I'm sure she understands. We didn't want her to worry, so we let her stay at the party while we handled things. She's most worried about you. "

Lilith reached back and propped up the pillows so you could stay seated, making sure you were most comfortable while Lucifer paced

Looking down at the hand she caressed, you noticed it was entirely wrapped in bandages

" They weren't normal guns. "

" Yes, I'm afraid it won't heal very well. But we will make certain you get the best care. "

Standing up, Lilith grabbed Lucifer by the arm and pulled him towards the door

They wanted to make sure you could rest, and a servant entered quickly with a tray of food and a warm beverage

" Oh yes! I can't wait to finish them off. "

" Wait, they're alive? "

" Not for much longer, dear. Lucifer thought we should save the rest for after you woke up. "

" Well, make it extra rough for me. "

You won't have to worry about those who hurt you ever, ever again

Author's Note - I feel so iconic having the lucifer icon pre-episode release, we are a power duo!

#koko writez #hazbin hotel #helluva boss #hazbin hotel x reader #helluva boss x reader #reader insert #x reader #lucifer #lucifer x reader #lilith #lilith x reader

[moonit3]

Yandere! Backroom entity, could you make a yandere of any backroom entity or level? Please?

(I've never seen any Yandere backroom fic, maybe you're the first. It can be any entity or you invent your own, it's up to you!)

anons always have the brightest ideas for yandere writings. like would i have thought of audiente something like this? never, so that is why i have to thank this anon to come with this amazing idea.

THE MONSTER, THE WANDERER AND THE FARMHOUSE

➥warnings/notices: yandere, exophilia(?), liminal spaces(?), gn! reader, poisoning, drugs, obsession, acid, blood, reader is chained and cuddled by the entity, fluff(?).

➥ yandere! entity x gn! reader

➥ synopsis: trapped in a world that you don’t understand, you find yourself in a farmhouse in middle of nowhere with the presence of someone you can’t comprehend.

the recent disappearance of people around the country has raised drastically in the last decade and the government gives he same answer when someone goes missing, ‘there is no trace to lead to an investigation’ and unfortunately, they are right.

none one seems to understand how more than thousands people can simply vanish from existence, almost like they never exist in the first place. it’s creepy, scary and made those who remain become paranoid to even leave their houses, after all, it’s the only place they feel safe. however, they were wrong, this was a false sensation of safety and security. that’s why you have joined the static of the missing people.

yellow and molded walls that never seems to end, an old moist carpet and those irritable electric sounds that reminds you this isn’t a dream. nah, this the place you’ve been living for the past few days and despite walking for uncountable miles, it appears this place has no ending nor escape that will lead you to freedom, almost like this is a no end labyrinth.

if things couldn’t get worse, the food and almond water (where did those thing come from? you don’t recall it) are almost gone, meaning that you would have to go find more of it throughout the yellows walls or starve to death. yet, you aren’t going to give up that easily. you are going to survive this place and will find a way home to see your family again, but also to tell everyone what happens to those who simply vanished.

walking for even more hours, you find a wooden door. it’s look older than you and there is a unfamiliar smell coming from inside, could it be this path might lead to freedom? carefully, you turn the knob to see what is behind and of course, it’s only show a long hall that lack any source of light inside.

there is no way you are going inside. you are desperate to going home, but this looks like a trap to kill you instead of a ticket to escape this world, so you close the door and step away from it. too scared to be lead to a dead end, probably death. you continue to walk towards the unknown, hoping to find another way out of this.

okay, maybe getting through that door would be better choice in some possibilities. but you are happier you didn’t as this new place seems to be more safer and nice.

a farmhouse in the middle of the nowhere, surrounded by trees and grass from all sides with a small vegetable garden close to the house. did someone lived here? by the way the interior is decorated and the smell of flowers seems like it, yet no one is there. your only company is the wind.

you should’ve question yourself if the food was safe, maybe someone has poisoned before you arrive, but your stomach beg to devour the mini cake that was set in the table. the taste didn’t really matter as you wanted to stop the feeling of hungry and that what you did, the whole cake was gone in less than minutes and you couldn’t feel guilty because it.

what if someone was waiting to eat it later? oh, your body began to feel heavier. why are your vision becoming blurry? black spots began forming in your vision and it didn’t took much time to you succumb to the weird sensation, making you unconscious as your body hit the floor.

the smell of baking awakes you. someone is cooking and you are laying down on a bed? your eyes widen noticing it. someone must brought you here and the chain locked on your ankle is a way to proof it.

what? you try to remove the chain away, a failed attempt as the iron is too strong to be destroyed by a weak human like you. also, you immediately give up in trying as there is someone standing in doorframe, watching you.

a tall pitch-black figure stares down at you. its appearance reminds of those weird drawings around the yellow molded walls, warning to those who arrived about the dangerous being that live around in this world. it claws are huge, the emptiness eyes don’t blink and you can hear a soft melody coming from it lips, whatever is this thing, it looks like it will kill you.

“ha ha…” you try to get away from it, pushing yourself against the wall and closing your eyes as a way to pretend this isn’t real, just a mere nightmare that you will wake up soon, but then you feel it claws on your face….is this thing caressing you?

slowly, you open your eyes to find the huge creature kneeling to your height and having it shape claws touching your face in the gentlest way possible, almost like you are made of glass. you can’t tell if this thing is happy, the lack of a mouth makes it emotions almost unreadable, but the human-looking eyes shows kindness and compassion by the scared state you are.

the entity leaves the room for a brief moment before coming back with a piece of a pie and hand it to you, its look delicious and its smell good. the eyes stares at you, waiting for you to do something with the food.

“do you want me to eat it?” the thing nodded at your words, surprising you as he could understand what you are speaking while the non-dangerous anomalies you’ve encountered failed to do so. “okay, thank you for the meal.”

eating a piece of the pie, your eyes sparkled by the taste and you couldn’t help but eat more of it. the entity, in the other hand, watched you devour the food with his eyes gets smaller, analyzing your expressions and happy noises you are making while eating the food it has made for you. being so focused on the meal, you didn’t notice the thing approaching you at first, only feeling its hand touching your shoulder when you have the devour the entire food in minutes.

you can hear purring coming from it despite the lack of mouth, getting closer to your face and patting your head repeatedly.

the humanoid form get closer to you, changing it hand position to your face and making you stare at it. the empty eyes, almost human like, staring deep down at your soul as your head is forced to tilt to the side under it touch.

you can feel something fall over your clothes, its the black stuff that composes the entity’s body, “H-HEY!” you try to remove it away, but the weight of the entity’s body is too heavy to move it as it lay next to you, putting it arms around your body, bringing you to lay down on the bed along with it.

the head of the thing snuggles against your neck, not letting any centimeters separate the two of you as it is trying to remove any distance between your body to it. the entity doesn’t move, it stay still next to you as you try to get away from this place, but for now, you should just take a deserved nap.

closing your eyes, you could feel the entity stare at your with emptiness eyes one last time before your world faded to black. it’s look happy to have you in their arms.

@moonit3 writings

#yandere x reader #yandere oc #yandere #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere male #yandere writing #yandere headcanons #yandere headcanon #yandere hcs #yandere exophilia #yandere entity #yandere monster #yandere x gender neutral reader #yandere x gn reader #gender neutral insert #gender neutral y/n #gender neutral reader #tw yandere #yandere x y/n #yandere x darling #yandere original character #➥·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ moon writings #my oc the entity

[literaticat]

I'm at my wit's end. I've spent a decade trying to break through - 10 years with 5 novels coming super close with a variety of big publishers, who rave about my writing, ideas, etc. Feedback has been mostly positive. One even rejected saying "I don't know why we're rejecting this, it's EXACTLY what we're looking for and ticks all our boxes, but we feel compelled to reject it anyway." Is there just a "Do Not Publish" sign on my head? How to keep pushing ahead after so long and so much rejection?

(OP continues...) "Sorry about the rant, Jenn, and I know there's not much you can say as you don't know my specific situation. But it's just maddening. 10+ years of my life! I know everyone faces rejection, but I seem to mostly get positive feedback and so many "close calls" of almost getting a deal - a lot of interest, but then it just peters out. That "compelled to reject anyway" just made me start feeling like I'm just fated to never be published, no matter what? I'm unagented now, starting from scratch..."

OK first of all -- that rejection, if that is literally what they said, is utterly insane. I have to presume (HOPE? PRAY?) that you are paraphrasing, that that is what it *felt* like to you, but that's not LITERALLY what they said??? Because there are certainly things where, on the surface, yes, this is what a publisher is looking for and it "ticks the boxes", but ultimately, it doesn't have that X-factor, je ne sais quois, or whatever -- so I can see a publisher saying something like, "while the writing is admirable and the premise is interesting, ultimately, we weren't compelled enough to make an offer for publication" -- which is ALMOST what you said, but there's a key difference that makes it actually normal and not insane. Because in YOUR version, it sounds like they are under an imperius curse or something, where they don't know what they are doing or why they are doing it, they just have to do it, even though it is against what WOULD be their better judgment if they weren't cursed. And... it's wild to think that a publisher would make a statement like that. (Maybe they were having a very OFF DAY???) -- BUT ANYWAY, on to the crux of your question/rant:

I understand your frustration. If it makes you feel any better (??), you're not alone. I know many -- MANY -- MANY career authors, who spent 10 years honing their craft, trying and failing, getting rejections, getting close-but-no-cigars, etc. I was chatting with a wise (and now famous) author I know, who spent 10 years or so in the query/wrong-agent/rejection/close-call trenches. She told me a theory that I feel pretty sure is right, though I don't have proof per se, it does track with my observations. She said:

Just about everyone who sticks with writing or the arts in general as a career has about a ten-year rough patch. That doesn't mean it takes everyone ten years to get published! (Though it does take LOTS of people 10+ years) -- Some lucky people get their break a lot sooner than that. BUT. Everyone has to pay the piper that ten year fee, either all at once, or in installments. So let's say you sell your book right away and start raking in the accolades etc -- fab! Just know that nobody stays popular and beloved forever, and at some point, the ten year slump is coming for you. Aren't you lucky that you're getting yours out of the way now?

OK, if that didn't work for you, how about this:

How to keep pushing ahead after so long and so much rejection?

You know you don't have to, right?

Like, if writing and seeking traditional publication is making you miserable -- you can stop. In fact, stopping may be a great idea.

I say this not to be discouraging, but rather, encouraging, actually. I encourage you to give yourself permission to prioritize your own mental and emotional well-being.

If you realize you miss writing and can't live without it -- go back to it! But maybe instead of having "publication" as your goal, your goal can be writing for the pure joy of it, without worrying about future queries or would-be agents or anyone else's expectations. What freedom! Embrace that!

Then when you do have a brand-new shiny manuscript, you can decide your next steps. Maybe it's trying again for traditional publishing, and this is the turn around the track that changes everything. (It should be close, if the 10 year theory is correct!)

OR, maybe it's self-publishing. (Lots of people have a lot of success there -- maybe you're one of them!) --

OR, maybe it's just chilling out and writing some more for your own pleasure -- creating art for the sake of creating it, for fun, for self-fulfillment, etc. Like, you know, a normal hobby, that nobody is expecting you to monetize or make into a "gig".

[faefictions]

Snow in Indiana

Eddie Munson x Reader

5.7k words

Eddie has spent the past decade thinking about the pen pal he lost touch with, but fate has a funny way of bringing people back together when they need it most

Warnings: family death (unedited bc it is 3am and I have been working on this for hours)

“Dear Eddie, 

Does it Snow in Indiana?” 

He had read the beginning of the note hundreds of times by now. He had memorized how each individual letter had been written and slightly smudged. He knew the entire contents of the letter by heart, but that never stopped him from coming back to it from time to time. 

“My grandma hasn’t told me much about Hawkins, just that it’s just like home. Except it’s on the other side of the country. Grandma likes the snow, so I hope you say yes.” 

Something about the innocent nature of your writing calmed him down when things got rough. He had received the note in the middle of August at the beginning of 6th grade. Your grandmother had just moved across the country, and she just so happened to be the Librarian at Eddie’s new middle school. She had told both of you that the other could use a friend, even if you were thousands of miles apart. She also insisted that being pen pals would improve both of your lackluster reading and writing skills. She meant well. 

“Can I tell you the truth? I didn’t want to write you a letter when grandma called and told me I should. My teachers say I’m not good at writing anyway. But Grandma also said maybe you and I could be friends. And I think I would like that.” 

Some of your words had been crossed out with pen, either from misspellings or second thoughts on phrasing. Eddie had stared at the paper for so long that he even knew what was underneath those scribbles. 

When the snow started coming down each winter, it was hard for him to not want to keep the letter on him at all times. The opening line of your first letter to him always floated into his head with the first snowflakes. 

He had written you back to assure you that it does snow in Indiana, that he too had troubles with pleasing his teachers with his school work, and of course, that he too would like to be friends. 

That was over 10 years ago now. He had never met you, never heard your voice, never learned what you looked like (besides the poorly drawn picture you had included for him one time) but you had been a part of him for his middle school years. 

The letters started slowing down in the 8th grade. You had told him you were nervous for high school, that you’d heard that kids were meaner there. The last letter he had sent you was in the summer before both of your freshman years. He hated that he couldn’t remember what he had said, what his last words to you were. All he knew was that he wished you luck for your first day. 

Then the letters stopped completely. After months of checking mailboxes impatiently, he got the hint and gave up. 

At the age of 24, he wishes he sent another letter. He wishes he got some closure on why you stopped writing. He had always wondered if it had been something he had said, or maybe you had just found new friends in high school and decided you didn’t need him anymore. 

He was embarrassed to admit that it was his first heartbreak. So he refused to admit it even happened to anyone he knew now. 

He tucked the old letter in his pocket as another patron entered the diner. He had picked up a second job as the night cook in hopes of saving up enough to to move out of the trailer with Wayne. It had been months of helping Wayne with bills now, and he was just barely starting to see the hard work pay off in his savings account. 

He peeked out the pass through window to get a glimpse of the first customer they’d had in the last hour and a half. The snow had been coming down hard, and it was preventing the already few people who would be coming in to the diner at this hour from showing up. He wasn’t surprised to see the young woman, somewhere around his age, follow the waitress quickly to the booth in the corner and sit down. He was, however, surprised to see no new car in the small lot outside. He hadn’t seen headlights arrive or depart to drop her off. The snow that has accumulated on her hair, even thought it has been covered with a hood, was making him think she had walked a distance to get here. If the counter hadn’t been blocking his view, he would have seen the bottom of her pants completely soaked through from the snow piled outside to confirm his suspicion. 

“Can you start on a stack of pancakes, Ed?”

He nodded at the waitress, Judy, who wasn’t usually one to whisper like she was now. She rushed off to the phone in the back office, which did nothing but pique the interest in Eddie’s under stimulated brain. 

Curiosity got the best of him, so he made his way out of the kitchen quickly, grabbed a mug from the counter and the full coffee pot, and made his way over the girl in the corner. 

You had been staring out the window, and Eddie recognized the look as he approached. You were doing your best to hold yourself together. He was used to this kind of customer at this time of night. People who really needed the company, who had nowhere else to go, often found their way here after midnight. But there was something different about you, and it wasn’t just that he had never seen you around town. No matter how hurt he could tell you were inside, you did your best to keep up a facade when you saw him approaching. 

“Coffee?” he offered, less poised than he had intended.

“Please,” you smiled up at him as he set down the mug and poured. He allowed himself to take you in, and that’s when he saw the snow still caked on to your sneakers, and the damp cloth stretching from the hem above your ankle nearly up to your knees. There was snow yet to melt from head to toe, and you were trying your best not to shake from the cold. 

“You walk here?” He tried to make light conversation as he chuckled, but you weren’t as chipper. 

“My car broke down about a mile up the road. Walking was my only option,” You tried to keep the smile on your face, but Eddie saw the look, almost like a shunned child. As if you were embarrassed by what you had done, preparing for the lecture or consequence coming your way. 

Before he could say anything, Judy returned from the back office. 

“Tow truck won’t be running ’til morning, darlin’. But I left a message telling them you’d call first thing,” Judy gave you a halfhearted smile, before turning to Eddie, “Where’s that stack I told you to start on?” 

“Right, sorry,” he quickly excused himself back to the kitchen, but did his best to listen for the conversation you were having on the other side of the room. 

“Where are you staying tonight? I can try to get you a ride there.” 

“My grandma’s house, well it used to be I guess. I think it’s just a few more miles into town, I’m not a hundred percent sure though, I’ve never been out here.” 

“Used to be your grandma’s house?”

“Yeah, she, uhm… passed away not long ago. Hard to own something six feet under,” you tried to joke, but failed to make either of you laugh, “Funeral service is next week, I came early to pack up her things. Guess I chose the wrong day to drive in though.” 

“I’d say. Well let me see what I can do, do you have the address?” 

“Yeah, it’s right…” you trailed off as you checked your pocket, slowly coming to realize that you had left the torn piece of paper with the address written on it on your passenger seat, right on top of the map you were struggling to follow in the heavy snow. “Guess I left it in the car.” 

Just as the realization was threatening to break you, Eddie came and set a fresh stack of 3 pancakes in front of you. 

“You eat up, it’s on the house. And let me know if you remember any of that address,” Judy smiled at you and walked into the back before you could refuse the free pancakes.

Eddie watched you for the next hour through the pass through window. No other customers came in, so he didn’t exactly have anything better to do. It was nearing 4 am, the end of Eddie’s shift. He had cleaned his station in the kitchen faster than he ever had and made his way out to your table to check on your before he left. 

“Any luck with that address?”

“Don’t think I’d remember it with a gun to my head. I might as well walk back and grab it.” 

“Not a chance. My shift is over in a few minutes. Why don’t I drive you back to your car, you can grab it, and I can get you there.”

“I couldn’t possibly-“

“No need to be polite. You’ve had a rough enough night, let’s just get you home.”

You didn’t correct his phrasing. This was the furthest you had ever been from home, and you were sure as hell feeling that in this strange diner with barely a concept of where you were. The snow falling outside only exacerbated your feeling of being out of place. 

Eddie rushed to the back to grab his belongings and wish Judy a good night, letting her know he was going to get you out of there, before he made his way back out to you. You had brought the hood of your sweatshirt back up, and were staring out at the snow silently. He approached cautiously and gently spoke, “Let’s get out of here,” before guiding you through the door. 

“I’m Eddie, by the way. Sorry I didn’t properly introduce myself earlier.” 

You paused at his name, but he was too busy trying to find his van through the wall of snow to notice. 

“I’m y/n, thanks again for helping. You and Judy are both angels.” 

He smiled at your name for a moment, but kicked the idea from his mind. 

Both of you thought of the letters you had sent all those years ago, unaware that the person climbing into the same car as you was in fact the person you were reminiscing on. 

Eddie shook the snow out of his hair like a wet dog before starting the van. 

“Left out of the lot?” 

“Yeah,” you smiled. 

“You know, I’ve helped fix up a few cars in my day. I could take a look under the hood for you when we get there if you’d like.”

“You’re already helping enough, thank you though.”

“I really don’t mind. Can’t hurt just to take a look.” 

The glance and smile he shot you made your stomach do flips. In the low light of the passing, sparse streetlights, he looked incredibly handsome. Your mind wandered back to what you thought your Eddie looked like back in middle school. You had sent him a drawing of yourself, mostly as a joke since your drawing skills as a 12 year old weren’t amazing, but you were also trying to send him the message that you desperately wanted to know him better. Of course, when your grandmother had insisted you become pen pals with a strange boy, you weren’t too happy about the idea, but as time went on, the sound of a friend sounded too nice. You hadn’t had many of them in elementary school, and it concerned your family. But as your friendship with Eddie grew with each letter, you found yourself hoping for something, anything, more. Now, as an adult, you blame your adolescent brain for the silly crush. But that didn’t stop you from thinking about him from time to time, still wondering what he might be doing in that moment, or if he is happy. But most of all, you wondered if he missed you as much as you missed him. 

“You doing alright over there?” he asked you over the quiet metal playing over the speakers. He was playing it at about 1% of the volume he usually listened at, in an attempt to not scare you off just yet. 

“Yeah, just a long night,” you smiled back at him. He nearly assured you that you could be real with him, that he could tell that something more was bothering you, but he worried that would be coming on too strong. And before he could find a way to say it without sounding creepy, you pointed out your car on the side of the road with a sigh. 

It had only been a couple hours since you had left it, but it was nearly buried in the snow. 

“That’s a little more difficult to check out,” He chuckled as he pulled to the side of the road, lighting up your car with his headlights. 

“It’s fine, I’ll just go grab the address and we can get going,” you tried not to sigh as you opened the passenger door. 

“Wait a second,” Eddie reached for your hand before you could make it out of the car, “I’m fine with taking a look, and I can grab the address too. No need for you to get cold again.” 

“I already walked a mile in the snow earlier, I don't think a minute out there will kill me.”

“All the more reason for you to stay in here if you ask me.”

“Fine, but skip looking under the hood. I can call the tow truck when I wake up, it should be fine until then. Even if you could fix it with nothing, I don’t think I should be driving any more today.”

“Long trip?”

“Since 8 am. I really just want to get to sleep.”

“Deal,” he smiled again before stretching his hand out to you, “Keys?”

You reluctantly let him have the keys to go grab the paper, but not before trying to assure him you were capable of grabbing it yourself. You watched him as he rushed as fast as he could through the near foot of snow, grabbed the address, and rushed back to the van. 

“You didn’t lock it,” you stated, nervous to not to sound nagging. 

“I know, do you have a bag or something I can grab for you?”

“Oh, yeah, I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be, where is it?”

“It’s in the back seat on the passenger side. It’s a small black suitcase.”

“You got it, here, take this,” he handed you the torn paper with your grandmother’s previous address written on it in a handwriting that would have been familiar to him, had he glanced down at it. 

He ran back to grab your suitcase, and made sure to double check that the doors had locked after he shut them before he rushed back to the van. He threw your suitcase in the backseat before jumping back into the drivers seat. 

“I don’t know how you lasted a mile in that, I’m already freezing,” he complained, but his smile still refused to leave his face. 

“I’m sorry,” you tried yet again to apologize. 

“Don’t be,” he paused to look you in the eye to assure you that he wasn’t upset in the slightest, “Now let’s see that address. Hopefully I actually know where it is.”

You handed him the paper, and even in the low light, you couldn’t miss the way his face fell, even for a millisecond. He hadn’t seemed to stop smiling all night, but the second he saw the paper, it faltered for just a moment. 

“Everything ok?” 

He looked up at you, and you could tell he wanted to say something, but thought better of it. 

“Yeah, uhm, this is on the other side of town though. It’s a bit of a drive, is that ok?”

“I’d rather drive a little further than stay in my car tonight. So yeah, it’s fine,” you giggled, relieved that he didn’t seem angry or annoyed with you like you thought. 

But he had seen the handwriting. He would know it anywhere, yet he still wouldn’t let himself get caught up in the coincidences. You were just a girl with similar handwriting, and the same name. You weren’t his y/n. He could never be so lucky. 

“So, what brings you to town?” he asked after a moment of driving. 

“It isn’t the happiest story, and I don’t want to be a bummer.” 

“I’m nosey, and that does nothing to curb my interest,” he joked. He just needed to prod, he needed to know if he was being crazy. 

“My grandma passed… about a week ago now. Her funeral is next week, but someone needed to clean up her house for the service, and no one else wanted to make the drive out.” 

“Do you have any other family in the area to help out?”

“No, she only had 2 sons. My dad and my uncle, and they’re both back west. She moved here, like, 12 years ago now I think. Maybe 13.” 

Just another coincidence. He’s not this lucky. 

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

You looked at him out of the corner of your eyes. You hadn’t heard that yet. Just stressed adults complaining about how traveling in the winter was too much of a hassle. Hearing those words, from a near stranger no less, was enough to make you tear up. And Eddie could hear that in your voice when you thanked him, but he chose not to comment on it. 

“So,” you began after a moment of awkward silence, “How long have you lived in Hawkins?”

“My whole life.”

“Do you like it here?”

“Uh… It has its moments,” he tried his best to hide his discontent with the town. If it weren’t for his uncle, his band, and his small group of friends, he would have ran for the hills by now. He was too attached to them to run… and also lacking the funds to do so. 

“That good huh?” you laughed. 

“Hate to sound like an ass, but there are definitely plenty of cons that outweigh the pros for me half the time. But that’s not everyone’s experience.”

“Grandma seemed to like it, but she also liked it back home, and it’s no cake walk back there.” 

You almost spat the end of your sentence, and although it wasn’t spoken explicitly, Eddie understood. 

“Sorry, I don’t mean to keep bringing the conversation down. It’s just been a really long week.”

“I believe it,” He paused, “So how long are you going to be staying in town then?”

“I have no idea. Rumor is Grandma left me the house. And even if she did…. I’m sorry, I’ve been awake for almost 24 hours now, and driving for over 15 of them. I know you really don’t need to hear any of this.” 

You started to make your body as small as possible, hyper aware of how loudly you had been speaking, and how riled up you were getting. Your father would have hated to see it. But not Eddie. 

“No, keep going. Like I said, I’m nosey, and it sounds like you could use someone to talk to about this.” 

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” he agreed nonchalantly, unaware how much it meant to you. 

“My grandma and I were really close before she moved. She didn’t get along with either of her sons, but she was the world to me as a kid. And my dad put up no effort to even reach out to her in the past decade, but he expects all of her stuff to be left to him, and my uncle wants the same. But my mom told me that one of them had reason to believe that she left it all to me. I don’t even know where they heard it, and don’t get me wrong, I’m not ungrateful, I promise. I just don’t know what to do about the two grown men that she apparently left out of the will if that’s true, and how mad they’re going to be at me.” 

“They wouldn’t be mad at you.” 

“You don’t know my dad,” you scoffed. You knew damn well that the man wasn’t afraid of throwing a tantrum, especially if it came to money. And he wouldn’t care if you were the one getting hurt in the process. 

“What would they have to be mad at you for though? For your Grandma loving you enough to leave you something to start your life on? How is that your fault?”

“It doesn’t matter if it’s my fault, they just care that they get their share. If it’s left to me, I might as well just divvy it up before they say anything.”

“But that’s not what you want, is it?”

“I just don’t want to have any issue with them.” 

“I’m sorry, that’s not fair to you.” 

“You really need to stop being so nice, you’re going to make me cry,” you chuckled, genuinely fighting back the tears as you spoke. 

“Sorry,” he chuckled back. He took a subject before continuing. “Have you seen the house? Like have you ever visited?”

“No, actually. Who knows, maybe it’s a real fixer upper and I’d be better off passing it on to my uncle,” you giggled, and that put the smile back on Eddie’s face. 

“If I didn’t mess up the address, it should just be in this next neighborhood.”

You kept saying that all you wanted was to get some rest after your long day, but now that you were talking to Eddie, you didn’t want the drive to end. The disappointment hit you like a rock as he pulled into the driveway of your grandmothers old house, but the feeling quickly turned to something else as you looked out the window to see the beautiful 2 story house with large trees on either side. 

“So much for the fixer upper theory,” Eddie said with a whistle, but you were speechless. This was much more than you had been anticipating, much nicer than you had spent your younger years picturing every time you missed your grandma. 

“You ok?” he asked after a moment of silence. 

“Oh, yeah. Sorry, I was just taking it in,” you chuckled nervously, still staring at the house. 

“Why don’t we get you inside?” He said, reaching in the back for your suitcase. You put a hand gently on his arm to stop him, and he looked up to see your nearly empty stare, still on the building in front of you. 

“Can you give me just a minute? I’m sorry, I know it’s late.” 

“No, it’s fine… Are you ok?”

“Yeah…Yeah, It just,” you trailed off for a moment, “I hadn’t seen her in years. Had no idea what her house looked like, or what she looked like anymore. I got letters, I got calls, but… Part of all this didn’t feel as real. Going in there, that’s real.” 

“Want me to come in with you?”

“No, that’s fine. I just need a second.” 

“Have you ever lost anyone before?”

You didn’t answer, just shook your head as you moved your eyes from the house to him. 

“Let me walk you in. You shouldn’t be alone for that.” 

You looked back at the house for a moment, took a deep breath, and nodded your head. 

Eddie carried your suitcase through the front door, and you both kicked off your shoes before stepping on the carpet. You took a deep breath before reaching for the light switch. Eddie sensed your hesitation as your fingers hovered. He took the opportunity to grab the fingers of your other hand. It gave you enough courage to turn on the light in the entry way. 

The furniture was mostly unfamiliar. You could see a few pieces in the living room that you had remembered from your childhood, and the sense of nostalgia calmed you. Eddie let you walk ahead of him, letting go of your hand as you ventured further into the room. Slowly but surely, you made your way to a wall on the other side of the room. It was covered in pictures, new and old, of your grandma with family and friends. You recognized yourself in plenty of them, but the newer ones were the ones that you couldn’t stop looking at. She looked so much older that you had remembered, but still had the youthful glow to her that you had attributed to her mischievousness. No matter how old she got, how wrinkled her face grew, or how gray her had and gotten, you still recognized her. Part of your heart began to ache for not knowing her as she was before she passed. It had been so long. 

You felt Eddie approach you from behind, and you expect him to say something nice, or encouraging. But he didn’t. He was surprisingly quiet. You turned to make sure he was alright, but he didn’t seem fine. He was staring at one of the photos on the wall, and he looked like he was about to be sick.

“Are you ok, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Uh, yeah,” he replied, still white as a sheet as he tore his eyes from the photo to look at you. He barely shot you a half smile before looking back up at the pictures. You took a step back to stand next to him. 

“I just remembered that she worked at the middle school when she moved here. Did you know her?”

“Yeah.”

“…Did you like her?” you tried asking after waiting for him to say anything more. 

“Yeah, she introduced me to my best friend.”

“Me too,” you smiled at the memory of your old pen pal. 

“Someone back home?”

“No, actually. I probably shouldn’t refer to him as that still. We haven’t spoken in… years actually.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he said, finally peeling his eyes away from the photos on the wall. 

He should have said more, but he didn’t know what else to say. This was her. He was in shock. The girl he had spent the last decade wondering about had wandered into his diner. His thoughts were moving a mile a minute, he felt like he could physically hear them, and it was hard to focus on anything you had possibly said. But luckily, you weren’t saying much. 

He followed you like a ghost as you explored the first floor of the house. You were happy you had arrived before anyone else. You had the chance to see the house how she had left it, how she had lived in it. It gave you a sense of closure you weren’t going to get otherwise, it felt as if you were getting a sense of knowing her once again. You were caught up in it until you saw a clock on the wall, reading nearly 5 am. Realization hit you that you were keeping Eddie, and a sense of guilt washed over you. You turned to find him, with a bit of color returned to his face. 

“It’s really late, I’m sorry I’ve kept you. You can go home if you’d like. I’m sure you want to get some rest too after your shift.” 

He took a second, before asking, “Are you sure you’ll be alright?” And you hesitated before nodding. 

“Honestly, the roads are pretty bad out there. I could stay on the couch, help you figure out your car in the morning. How does that sound?”

He way have been a complete stranger just hours ago, but you really did feel like you could trust him. So you smiled and nodded. 

“I’ll go find some blankets for you,” you smiled before disappearing up the stairs. Eddie didn’t expect you to come back for a while. You were bound to find your grandmothers bedroom and need to look around for a while. He made his way back to the living room while he waited. He stared at the wall again, but not in shock this time. Now that he knew was 24 year old you looked like, he desperately want to see what 12 year old you looked like. He found a picture near the middle of the wall, of a young girl smiling at the camera. It was the only photo on the wall without your grandmother in it. She had your eyes, had your smile, but most importantly, she actually looked like the drawing he had received all those years ago. You weren’t as bad of an artist as you’d thought. Eddie tried not to grow emotional staring at the photo. He only tore his eyes away from the picture of younger you when he heard you making your way back down the stairs.

Before you could reach Eddie, you paused by the window next to the back door, blankets in hand. The snow coated the back yard, reflecting the light from the back porch into the sky. You began to tear up, just as Eddie approached to take the blankets from you. He saw one of the first tears fall down your cheek, and quickly, but gently put an arm around you. 

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, just… Is this what it looks like every winter?” you asked, looking up at him with misty eyes. 

“For parts of it, yeah. Why?”

“Grandma loved the snow,” was all you could reply before looking back out at the yard. 

He contemplated it for a second, fought himself on whether or not this was the right moment to say it, but he couldn’t help himself. 

“I told you she’d like it here” 

A moment passed as you processed what he had said. You gasped quietly, quickly turning your head to face him. He looked nervous, as if he had just handed his heart to you on a platter, waiting to see if you would reject it. 

“Eddie?” you asked cautiously, and you both knew what the question really was. 

“Yeah,” he nodded, still nervous and unable to read what you were thinking. 

“You stopped writing,” was all you could get out before another tear dropped. 

“What?”

“Y-you stopped writing,” you repeated, beginning to choke on your breathes as you spoke. 

He nearly panicked as he tried to reply. 

“Y/n, w-what do you mean? I only stopped writing when you stopped replying.”

“Oh my god, it’s really you,” you couldn’t stop looking at him, another tear dropping down your cheek. Your exhaustion was exaggerating your emotions, but you may have felt the same regardless. You had waited 12 years for this moment. 

“Yeah. Why don’t we go sit down,” he smiled at you, before herding you towards the couch. 

“Y/n,” he spoke softly as he crouch in front of you, one hand resting on each of your knees as you sat on the couch, “What do you mean I stopped writing?”

“I sent you a letter, you never replied.”

“That’s impossible, I waiting for months to hear back from you. There’s no way I missed a letter from you.”

“No, I sent one, and I waited, but you never replied. You broke my heart Eds,” you quietly began to sob, filled with too many mixed emotions. 

Eddie quickly sat next to you on the couch and pulled you to his chest to comfort you the best he could, but he was still confused. He had checked his own mailbox, his neighbors mailboxes, other houses in town with the same street number as his trailer. This didn’t add up. He quietly shushed you as he thought. 

“What did the last letter say?” he asked as you began to calm down just slightly. He had half the collection of your letters memorized, but especially the first and last. He would know if he had read it if you described it. 

“It was before Freshman year, I told you how scared I was that all the kids were going to be mean. I was so afraid that I was going to get singled out for still having no friends, and I waited for months to hear back from you. But you never wrote back. You were my only friend, and you stopped writing.”

“No, sweetheart, I would never,” he sighed as his heart dropped. He got that letter, he replied to it. Which meant that she never got his last letter. Neither of them had stopped writing on purpose, they had both assumed the other had given up. But he had sent out one last letter that was unaccounted for.

“Sweetheart, can you look at me,” he gently guided you to look up at him, “I promise you, I wrote back. I don’t know what happened to it, but I never would have stopped writing like that. I thought you had just ignored my last letter.”

“You wrote,” you said quietly, and Eddie couldn’t tell if it was a question, or if you were trying to reassure yourself. 

“I did, I promise,” he whispered as he swept a tear off your cheek with his thumb. 

And though you still needed to know what happened to his letter, and you had had one of the longest days of your life, nothing mattered more to you in that moment than leaning in, slowly. You took a second, pausing right before reaching his lips so he could pull away if he wanted, but he didn’t. It was a quick kiss, but it was gentle and sweet. Eddie didn’t try to pull you in for another, but he didn’t want to part as you pulled away. 

It took him a second to open his eyes again, but when he did, he was smiling just as big as you. 

“You ok?” he asked for what must have been the hundredth time that night. But unlike every other time you had answered, this time you told him the truth. 

“I am now.”

(may or may not be already trying to figure out a part 2 for this, depending on if people like it <3 )

@embrace-themagic @fanficparker  @heartbeats-wildly @saturn-aka-six @calum-hoodwinked-me @peterplanet @mischiefmanaged49 @nicotine-sunshine820 @itsjusttor @emistrash @thenoddingbunny-blog @sovereignparker @raajali3 @eddielives1986 @eddieswifu @chickpeadumpsterfire @fluffybunnyu @panagiasikelia @canthavetoomuchchaos @whenshelanded @starlitlakes @witchwolflea @ali-r3n @g0thdraculaura @celestcies

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson hurt/comfort #line cook!eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson imagine

[goldenatreides]

- training season -

[ paul atreides x reader ]

2.7k words, oneshot, smut, friends to lovers

summary: in a pinch, a dusty old weapons closet is just as good a hiding place as any.

content warnings: 18+ (minors shoo!) no use of y/n, all characters are over 18, f!reader, smut, religious imagery, mentions of violence, use of the Voice, implied consent, m/f pairing, fingering, PiV sex, semi-public unprotected sex, creampie, uhhhhh overuse of italics, gurney halleck jumpscare,

author’s note: you will pry my italics and religious imagery from my cold, dead hands. i need to be sedated. all feedback is appreciated and lmk if u find anything wrong, it’s my first time writing in a decade i think!! thank you to @earthshells for editing and teaching me about shrimping in bjj <3

🤍 masterlist 🤍 about 🤍 read on ao3 🤍

The clash of two blades resonates through the training room of Caladan.

Paul swipes at your side with his blade but you dodge, elbowing him hard in the ribs, catching him off balance. As you back away, he grabs your arm and pulls you down with him, pinning you against the ground; your face down on the cold stone floor, his legs straddling your back.

Your chest burns at the impact, flush against the floor. You feel his entire weight on top of you, heaving from exertion. His legs keep one arm locked at your side, under him, the other still caught in his grasp, pressed to the ground. Your blade scrapes against the stone.

“Do you yield?” His voice is much closer than you expect. His breath is close, tickling the back of your neck, too close, too warm—a shiver snakes down your spine.

(Why does it do that?)

Dark messy curls fall into your field of vision, some brushing the shell of your ear. A prickle against your jugular taunts you — his knife at your throat. Your shield buzzes with the contact.

(Ah.

He’s pressing it harder today than ever before.)

You make a small noise in answer, sound muffled by the ground.

Paul shifts his weight on top of you by sitting up, his legs still caging your back, knife at your throat. He relaxes the hand that holds yours bound.

(That’s new.)

Instead, Paul grabs a fistful of your hair at the back of your neck, lifting your head slightly. It hurts — but you can’t lie and say it’s… entirely unpleasant.

(Oh.

That’s new too.)

“Well?”

You can hear the teasing grin in his voice. Years upon years of training with him and still, he knows your left side is your weakest. But you’ll be damned before you give Paul the satisfaction of beating you for the third time in a row this week.

You wriggle slightly under him, testing his hold — why is he still clutching your hair? — and finding it looser than you expect, you rotate, using your free arm to lurch back and upwards suddenly, knocking him off you. You hear him land to your side with a thud and a surprised grunt, blade clattering to the ground.

Fingers curling around the hilt of your blade, you spin around, hooking your legs against his to trap him. Now, you straddle him, your knife pressing against his throat.

“What’s gotten into you today, Paul?”

“I don’t know what you mean.” he answers, still grinning.

His eyes are deadly, dark green.

Ignoring his choice to play stupid, you hiss: “Do you yield, Atreides?”

His holtzmann shield buzzes a bright red at his neck.

Your pulse buzzes too.

(Just the adrenaline.)

You want to wipe the smug grin off his face. He could have won so easily, you were distracted, why didn’t he?

Maybe he let his guard down too soon, or maybe — and you’ll never forgive him in this case — he’s going easy on you.

You feel the pinprick echo of his hands clutching your hair. A knot ties in your stomach, but you refuse to associate the two feelings.

(It must be close to lunch by now.)

Surely that must be it.

Paul laughs. It’s bright, airy — did your heart just skip a beat?

“Never.”

He reaches for his blade — that he shouldn’t have lost in the first place, he knows better than that — and as you lean forward to stop him, he uses your momentary distraction to free his other hand.

Which he promptly knots into your hair again, pulling you down by the back of your neck. Your legs slide out from under you against the slippery stone floor. Curse whoever built this castle.

Your own shield joins the buzzing, his knife finding your neck once more, yours still pressed against his, noses a hair’s width away.

His chest moves yours with each breath, every exhale waving strands of your hair that escaped his grasp.

You lie frozen above him for a moment or two. His eyes are so close you can count every individual lash, his pupils so blown you can see yourself reflected back at you.

Something about them is different today.

You’ve been staring at those eyes your whole life. Countless wishes cast on those same fallen lashes, gold flecks sparkling through a sea of forest green. You’ve seen them beam with childish mirth when you stole pastries from the kitchen, both your hands sticky from the bun you shared, giggling under a heavy oak table. You’ve seen them sorrowful and sullen, his under eyes as dark as bruises as he snuck into your room for comfort in the middle of the night after a bad dream, innocent adolescence.

Now, from so close, they’re dark, darker than you’ve seen—a raging sea, so bewitching it can drown you with no warning if you don’t tread with caution. You’ve caught glimpses of it before, in darkened hallways and after too many glasses of crimson Caladan wine, when he didn’t think you were looking—but never with such feverish intensity.

(Just the adrenaline.

He’s just caught up in the fight.)

Paul’s lips part slightly as his chest heaves up and down beneath you. You feel heat creeping into your cheeks, and a mirroring rosy blush dusts his high cheekbones. Few faint freckles dot his cheeks during the summer season and you see them now like clusters of little stars.

His eyes never leave yours, but his tongue darting out and slightly wetting his parted lips grabs your attention and you can’t help but stare. You trace your gaze along the dip in his cupid’s bow, the regal arch of his pointed nose, the cheekbones sculpted as if from marble of antiquity.

(Oh, Maker.

I’m staring.)

You cough to clear your throat from the thick silence that settles over the two of you, broken only by your mingled breaths. His mouth closes, lips curling into a coy smile as he sees you flush more under his stare.

“Something wrong?” his voice comes out husky, deeper than you’ve heard before. Why was the room suddenly so hot? The castle’s heating never worked so well.

You refuse to meet his piercing gaze again, mortified at the situation, desperate to look anywhere but at the boy below you. The boy —your childhood best friend, you remind yourself in an attempt to clear your head of whatever is happening—is different today.

(And whatever is happening is definitely not happening.

It’s just Paul.

He’s just messing with you.)

Still avoiding his eyes, you sit up, excuses already tumbling from your mouth—cut off by Paul tightening his grip on your hair, sending electric sparks tingling at the roots of your scalp.

Your breath hitches in your throat as his voice comes out not fully his own—distant, many echoing voices folding in his own all at once, commanding your undivided attention and acceptance:

“Look at me.”

Your stomach falls through the floor as your eyes snap to meet his. Maybe all those lessons he skipped to hang out with you were not so useless after all.

You feel every point of contact with him a thousandfold. His hand in your hair, yours on his chest, his toned waist between your ever-so-slightly trembling legs. His other hand drops his knife, and slides up to rest on your waist, lithe fingers delicately brushing the stitches of your clothing.

“Paul—” Your voice comes out more of a whispery mumble than you expected.

(Maybe the floor will open up and swallow me whole.)

The hand in your hair relaxes, and his palm slides down to the back of your neck, fingers light as a feather. They hook your jaw, cupping your cheek. You think you’ll suffocate under the weight of his gaze on you.

Paul breaks the stare first, his eyes clinging to your mouth.

His thumb gently traces the outside of your lips, teasing your bottom lip. You hope he can’t feel how your pulse thunders against your neck, your heart threatening to escape your chest at his very touch.

(He definitely can.)

Heavy footsteps echoing down the hallway outside break the spell and you both freeze in a moment of panic. A familiar voice calls out for Paul, as you jump off him and he scrambles to his feet.

He looks around the room quickly, and seeing an old and dusty weapons storage closet, he grabs your hand and pulls you into it, shutting the heavy door as quietly as possible behind him.

Not a moment too soon, as you hear Gurney Halleck’s voice coming from the training room.

“Paul?”

After a beat of silence, Gurney sighs in frustration and you hear the training room doors click as he leaves.

You and Paul breathe a sigh of relief. You’ve both skipped out on one too many tutors this week, but the consequences can wait until…later.

Your eyes adjust to the lack of light in the closet. In the inky darkness, you feel Paul standing in front of you, so close in the cramped space that with each breath his chest flushes against yours. He smells of cedar, of bergamot, of honey. Comforting. Familiar. Paul.

What the hell just happened in that training room? You’re not willing to break the heavy silence first. Neither is he.

Instead, he kisses you.

Your mind goes blank as you feel his lips, softer than a pillow, press against yours. The kiss is gentle, shy, nothing like the fierce training you were practicing earlier, nothing like the commanding voice of the Atreides heir.

(Oh, fuck it.

Maybe it is happening.)

As Paul starts to pull away, you open your lips and kiss him back—feverish, hungry, devouring—your heart hammering out of your chest.

It was as if a rubber band had snapped, releasing whatever was holding either one of you back. He deepens the kiss, and you melt into it—his lips crashing against yours, his tongue tracing against your own. He catches your bottom lip between his teeth and softly pulls, wrenching a deep moan from you that he stifles with his lips.

His hands find your waist and he pushes you back against the wall, lifting you up. You wrap your legs around his middle as he presses into you, his hips slotting perfectly between them.

The sudden movement sends a rack of old weapons crashing down, a cacophony of metal and plasteel, undoubtedly ancient and expensive, startling you both.

He pulls back from you for a moment and breathes heavily, both of you straining to hear if anyone noticed. As you relax, he presses his forehead against yours. A stray curl brushes your lashes. If someone were to find you here, like this, you’re both good as dead for the foreseeable future.

In the darkness, your labored breaths intermingling, his voice comes out as barely a whisper.

“Is this alright?”

Your head spins and you think if you don’t have him right now, immediately, you might die.

Instead of answering, you grab Paul’s face and pull him back in for a kiss. He moans into you, a deep guttural groan, rolling his hips forward, starving hands roaming against breathless skin.

Heat pools in your stomach as he continues to roll his hips against yours, his lips plush and addicting. You knot your fingers into his unruly curls, gently tugging and the groan that leaves his lips is more holy than a hymn.

(Maybe you could stay like this forever.)

He peppers desperate butterfly kisses along your lips, along your jaw, along the length of your neck. As he presses his lips to your pulse in the crook of your neck, you hear him chuckle as you feel the thud-thud thud-thud thud-thud of your racing heartbeat.

His hands fall from your waist to cup your thighs as he continues to kiss and nip at your neck, grazing his teeth along your pulse, leaving barely a mark. The heat between your legs only grows, electricity shooting upwards with every push of his hips. Even through the layers of cloth you can feel him against you and every cell in your body screams more, more, more.

Paul’s hand slides up your inner thigh, and grazes a sensitive spot through the fabric of your underwear. Instinctively, you arch into it, but he stops and pins your back harder against the wall until you can’t move an inch, trapped by his arms and his presence.

You know he’s grinning like a devil in the dark. You don’t want to wipe it away this time.

He toys with the waistband of your underwear, slipping a finger behind the fabric, teasing in lazy, languid strokes. You whine softly, unspoken begs for more of his touch that set your cheeks ablaze and your head whirling.

“What is it?” Paul asks, lips at your neck, kissing at a delicate spot right under your jaw.

“Please,” you groan.

His breathing is ragged as he continues toying with your waistband, a teasing finger occasionally traveling down between your legs.

You think you’re going to die waiting.

“Please what?” He’s toying with you, his voice laced with honey.

If you do die, you’re going to drag him to hell with you.

But in between bruising kisses, all you manage is a whimper that Paul swallows with his kiss.

“Use your words, my star.”

His lips trace the shell of your ear sending electric shivers down your spine. His teeth tug slightly at the lobe and the world echoes until the only thing left is him and his hands and his voice.

“I need you, Paul,” you breathe, the words leaving your mouth before you even think of them, pulled out by his Voice, “Please.”

A lithe finger finally slips under the fabric, pushing it aside. His thumb traces hurried circles around your clit, everything already slick from his relentless teasing.

He presses his lips to yours again, silencing his own groans. Just as the knot in your stomach starts to build, he slides a finger down your slit, and you sigh at the loss of his rhythmic movement.

But you don’t have time to voice your discontent—you feel him slide one of his long fingers inside you and you press into his touch. You don’t even have time to think before another finger slips in and you feel the slight burning stretch. Your head falls back against the cold wall as you pant, and his hands work in and out, chasing your pleasure.

You dig your nails into his back. His hand works faster and faster, and in between whispered curses and pleading prayers you find your release.

Through the haze of your high and waves of bliss, you’re vaguely aware of Paul’s belt buckle falling to the ground, somewhere. In the tangle of roaming hands, messy hair and skin plastered with a thin sheen of sweat, Paul’s shirt buttons come undone — likely by your doing — and your own soaked underwear gets lost in the dark — definitely Paul’s doing.

However, you’re very aware of every inch of Paul as he slides himself into you, your name falling from his lips like a prayer over and over again.

“You’re doing so good for me, my star,” Paul sighs into your ear, his hips flush against yours, fully inside. “You’re doing so well.”

With every thrust of his hips, you welcome the feeling of fullness as your nails rake down his back, leaving delicate red marks and half-moon indentations. Every push, he reaches a deeper part of you, his hands guiding your hips to meet him again and again, goosebumps covering your skin at his feverish touch.

Through half lidded eyes, you see his silhouette in the dark, tousled dark curls haloed by a sliver of light from the doorframe, strong shoulders and toned arms keeping you pressed against the wall even as his hips stutter in his desperate rhythm inside you.

He falters and you feel him twitch, consequences be damned, as he sinks completely inside you, hands bruising your hips and voice groaning as his own release catches up to him.

He looks almost holy this way, completely undone inside you, and whispering your name as if it can save him.

(Maybe it can.)

#paul atreides #paul atreides x reader #paul atredies x reader #paul atreides imagine #paul atreides x reader smut #paul atreides x you #dune #dune fanfiction #dune imagine #dune fic #paul atreides smut #paul atreides fic #x reader #goldenatreides fic #timothée chalamet #timothee x reader #timothee chalamet x reader

[aloesarchives]

Birthday Special(JJK Oneshot)

TW/Warnings: Domesticity, AFAB/Female Reader, Family life, Slight self-coded Fem!Reader

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x Fem!Reader

Pronouns: She/Her, Mom/Mama (Though no physical description, reader had some self-coded elements)

Word count: 1.5k words

Decided to write something because today is my birthday(May 3rd)! And I'm officially 21! Thank you all for you love and support for the past 7 months of me writing for JJK! Also, this is the Valentine's day I referred to.

“Papa, you’re thinking too hard about this. You know Mama doesn’t ask for much.”

“Yeah, Dad. It shouldn’t be hard to get mom a present. Remember that full-size green tea hand and body lotion you got her? She was way too happy about it and was on the verge of crying happy tears.”

Toji sighs as his kids are behind him trying to ease his stress. Once again, like Valentine’s day, he was struggling to get a present for you. But this time, the stakes are higher because today is your birthday. Not some holiday Toji remembers because it’s one of the many times of the year capitalism does a complete take over for the sake of consumerism, which he can never avoid every time he goes out.

Though his kids have a point, he always wanted to do or get something for you. While you do the occasional mall shopping, it wasn’t often. Maybe once a month if lucky. This always posses a problem for the three because you were the best gifter in the family. Knowing what to give to anyone but only hinting at minute items. Thus having to think outside of the box or really watch your eyes latch onto anything longer than seven seconds. 

Megumi and Tsumiki don’t blame Toji for struggling since your demands weren’t demands but rather promises. You have been nothing but good to Toji for almost two decades. Something Toji knows many people take something like that for granted. Unfortunately, becomes terrifying to know how easily many fall under a dark spell. And Toji fears himself on certain days for not giving what you deserved.

“I know, Megumi. But your mother deserves nice things for herself. She still wears the necklace I gave her when you two were young. That’s almost ten years. Now, you both do some scooping while watching the time. We have to get the cake at 3:45pm.”

The siblings looked at each other before shaking their heads in helping their father’s hunt for a perfect present. They looked around the vast sea of stores to give themselves for any ideas. They were overthinking this whole process because every idea was shot down at the reality that you did have everything you ever wanted.

You have everything you ever wanted is what you always said to them.

Perhaps there’s something else they can give you that reminds of that. The lightbulb above Tsumiki’s head went off as she asked Toji the jewelry store he got the necklace from. He becomes curious as she scans the windows for something until stopping and pointing. Toji and Megumi look over to a display of multiple charm bracelets. 

“If Mama has the necklace with us in it, why can’t she get a matching bracelet to go along with it? She doesn’t have one that does.”

Now, Toji and Megumi were seeing Tsumiki’s vision.

“Good eye, kiddo. Shame on me for not thinking about that sooner.”

Toji lets Tsumiki handle the bracelet creation, occasionally having him and Megumi to be on the same page. Once finalized, Toji goes to fish his wallet for his card to give to Tsumiki to pay. After printing the receipt, the lady gives the card back but it ends up dropping onto the marble counter. Megumi cringes at the metallic clanging it made so he grabs it for Tsumiki to give back to his dad. Everyone in the store glances over at them as Toji puts the card away. Megumi raises a brow at his father because Toji had a smirk plastered on his lips.

“Why are you smirking?”

Toji pockets his hands as he looks at him.

“Don’t worry about it, Megs. Just know there aren't a lot of people with metal credit cards. Anyway, we gotta get movin’ because we need to pick up your Mama’s birthday cake and food for dinner.”

Tsumiki joins them as they head off to finish birthday shopping. Once getting home, they set up everything for you to come home to. By the time you come home, they’re done. Making your presence known, you relax into your humble abode. You walked yourself into the kitchen to see what your family has set up for you.

“Happy Birthday, Mom!”

You're greeted by a hug from each of your kids. Chuckling at the surprise they always seem to do when the day is about you. You hold them close and kiss their foreheads as their hugs re-energize you. Once parting, they made way for their father as your husband stands over you. Holding that dumb grin that you fell in love with over these years.

“Happy Birthday, Doll~.”

Giving a forehead kiss of his own, he holds you ever so softly but with the affectionate firmness. You giggled at how Toji is when it comes to physical touch. He can’t seem to get enough of it. Before eating dinner, you wanted to blow out the candles so they could eat the cake afterwards. The kids say their part and end with “We love you, Mom. Always.” Toji cracks a joke that always makes Megumi roll his eyes before getting into his own sentimental speech.

“Thank you for spending almost 20 years of your life with me. Happy Birthday, (Y/N).”

Ugh, and that softness he had at the end. Made you want to kiss him with all the love and warmth. You thought it’s time to eat dinner when Toji pulls out a small pink bag and places it in front of you. Surprised, you looked around at your family.

“What’s this, guys?”

“It’s for you, Mama. From us.”

Though curious, you smiled as you looked into the bag and pulled out a small box. Upon opening it, you couldn’t stop the smile that took over. There, in the box, was a silver charm snake chain bracelet with a small (F/C) gem at the center of a beautiful silver heart charm. But that’s not make you smile. It came from when your eyes landed on the other three charms attached to the bracelet. Two of those were dangling charms, one of an elegant flower and the other of a small silver puppy. The other charm was a clip-on with the colors of dark blue and black. You recognized them to represent the three that ultimately fulfilled the word “family” for you. 

The flower is Tsumiki as it was her favorite color, the puppy was obviously Megumi, and the last one is Toji for sure. Your smile began to painfully pull at your lips because you realized Toji’s charm closely resembles his wedding ring. Clasping the bracelet on your wrist, you admired how it looked on you.

“It was the kids’ idea to do this. I just paid for it, Hon.”

You knew Toji’s lying but didn't have it in you to call him out. This gift was just too perfect. You go over to give your motherly affection to thank Megumi and Tsumiki, your two children that gave meaning to your motherhood. Once having enough, you go over to Toji. The man you undoubtedly cherish and completely devote yourself to, your husband and your other half. You hug Toji lovingly, taking in his warmth and presence. Nothing in this world brings you comfort and ease than the man you choose to love never made you regret giving your heart and soul to.

Toji just chuckles with his signature grin, returning the hug with the same amount of affection. Yet your children can see the adoration and tenderness in his eyes, knowing full well he never looked at anyone that way because you’re the only one to bring it out of him. Looking up at your Toji, your gaze softens but your smile still holds its homeyness. He stares down at you before he leans in for a kiss you gladly accept. Even Megumi smiles with his sister while watching their parents express their love for one another, seeing them pull away from the kiss.

“They’re truly your kids since they always knew how to give me gifts. It goes with my necklace now. Thank you for this.” Saying as you smile up at him.

“Ah~, they knew because they have  good eyes. Just like their mama. Happy Birthday, (Y/N). Thank you for your love…and thank you for being you.”

The absolute tender affirmation was unlike any other. Though your birthday was a reminder of how many years you’ve been on here, it also serves as a reminder of your milestones over the years. Looking at your life, you got the best out of it. A family of your own and the love from someone who’s been with you through it all. As you tell Megumi and Tsumiki to go ahead and eat, you lock eyes with Toji. Both filled with a love no one can feel except the two of you. Toji hugs you close from behind as you interlace your hands into his, feeling your bracelet pressed up against him. Gazing upon Megumi and Tsumiki, both of your creations born out of each other’s unmatched love for one another.

This will be added into one of your many best birthdays you had.

Tags w/ links:

@luqueam @ploylulla @tqd4455 @wolywolymoley @captainbabybear @ravenswife

Tags w/o links:

@szillx @SleppyAnn @g0th1xac1d @kneelarhmstrung

Taglist form Here!

#x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #fem reader #megumi fushiguro #dad!toji #fushiguro tsumiki #toji x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader #mama!reader #x reader fluff #jjk fluff #x fem!reader #x female reader #jujustsu kaisen x reader #reader insert #toji fushiguro x female reader #birthday special #wife!reader #x wife reader #jjk toji #jjk megumi #aloesarchives

[jaeyunverse]

the 24-hour dating challenge (teaser)

PAIRING(S) | park sunghoon x fem!reader

GENRE(S) | fluff, crack, mutual pining, best friends to lovers, influencer au (?)

EST. WORD COUNT | around 5k

WARNING(S) | profanity, hoon is a loser and down bad, mc is painfully dense + all warnings to be added in the full fic!

SUMMARY | being a famous youtuber isn’t easy, especially when you have to constantly come up with new ideas to keep your audience entertained. and this time, your viewers want you to date park sunghoon, your best friend of nearly a decade, for the entirety of 24 hours.

TAGLIST | @blank-velvet @soobisms @justalildumpling @xharisrealm @skzenhalove @alicesolengg @yenqa @geombyu @tika-writes-lol @jlheon @haknom @useraerin @hooniessslvrss @flwrshee @rikisly @tobiosbbyghorl @wonkivrse @heeflrs @bambithia @iea-tsand @chaechae-23 @en-dazed @jayfrvr @h-hazwie @moonlighthoon @justanotherkpopstanlol @sseastar-main @seongclb @shoyotime @gerianne @iadorethemskz @sieuneo @hoon0logy @luvistqrzzz @sucrosxi @lzux1 @t4kalcvr @nes-caf @odxrilove @trippy-dejun @arizejkt19 @xuimhao @vizstars @enhacatalog send an ask/comment if u wish!

AUTHOR’S NOTE | I AM COMING BACK!!!!!! (kinda. maybe. idk i get ahead of myself a lot LOL) finals are finallyyyy over and i have some time to write this week so i’ve started this old wip of mine! it’s going to be pretty short and sweet so i’ll hopefully be able to follow through on this teaser but no promises haha :)) i hope u look forward to this fic! inspired by h.j evelyn (♡)

click here for the full fic!

“Your followers want me to do what?” 

Sunghoon was positive he’d misheard you. However, part of him hoped you’d confirm the life-altering information you’d casually uttered without even bothering to look away from the TV screen. 

“Hoon!” you exclaimed, your fingers aggressively moving about the gaming console. “Oh, my God, they’re coming after me! Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK—” you screeched— “Nonononono I can’t take them by myself! You testicle-guzzling cocksucker, why did you die when I needed you the most?!” 

Sunghoon watched you struggle warily. Your leg was bouncing with anxiety and your eyes bulging out of their sockets. He wasn’t entirely sure you were breathing. Beads of sweat were clinging to your forehead and your face was scrunched up in a weird, constipated expression. 

There was a good chance you’d utter fouler insults if he disturbed you while playing, but he couldn’t stop himself from broaching the subject. “Are we just going to pretend you didn’t say the thing you just said?” 

“The thing about you being a testicle-guzzling cocksucker?” you gritted. “No.”

Sunghoon rolled his eyes. “The thing about your followers wanting us to date for a video.” 

For a few moments, you didn’t deign to acknowledge him. Then, as if a switch inside you had flipped, you pulled the TV’s plug and turned to face him. “Would it be weird?” 

Wow. Okay, Sunghoon mused. I think it would be a fantastic idea and a dream come true, but I don’t trust myself around you. Even as a mere friend.  

However, instead of voicing his thoughts, the boy simply shrugged. “I don’t know. We’ve been friends for several years now. I’m a regular on your YouTube channel and I think your fans are aware of the dynamics of our relationship. What do they mean when they say they want us to date? Physical intimacy aside, we already do everything couples do.” 

“I think they want us to be romantic,” you admitted. “Go on a date, hold hands, cross some lines.”

“Cross some lines?” Sunghoon raised an eyebrow, the corner of his lip curling in a smirk. “Is this you speaking or your subscribers?”

Groaning in exasperation, you shoved his shoulder. He fell back on the couch, laughing. “Shut up, dickface! You know I’ve been swamped this semester. My influencer gig has been seriously lacking. I need to step up—do what they want me to do. Besides, we only have to be girlfriend and boyfriend for 24 hours. It’s really not that big a deal. Are you in or not?”

Sunghoon took a few seconds to mull over your words. Sure, he would love to be your boyfriend for 24 hours. As long as his fantasies were brought to reality, he didn’t care if the whole relationship was fake and short-lived. 

For far too long, he’d pined after you. He thought he was doing an excellent job at hiding his feelings, but then you decided to make vlogs for fun. That’s when shit truly went downhill. 

Within a few years, you’d amassed a following of over 5 million on YouTube and 3 million on Instagram. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say you’d become somewhat of a local celebrity.  

Being one of your closest friends, Sunghoon was often featured in your videos. Initially, he’d baulked at the idea of being filmed, but you’d worked your magic on him. The boy soon found himself being comfortable around cameras. 

Even though Sunghoon never started his own YouTube channel, his popularity grew along with yours. His Instagram had garnered over two million followers, and courtesy of his good looks and attractive physique, he’d been offered a bunch of brand deals too.

You’d scowled at how far Sunghoon’s pretty privilege had gotten him. While you busted your ass coming up with unique ideas and editing your videos to perfection, all he needed to do was show up. 

What you didn’t know, though, was that part of the reason he’d become a heartthrob among the youth was you. 

You might have been dumb and blind, but your followers certainly were not. They’d realised how Sunghoon looked at you—his eyes always twinkled and a fond smile automatically adorned his lips whenever he caught sight of you. 

To add to that, your fans had pointed out habits he didn’t even know he possessed. For example: idly braiding your strands; bringing you snacks whenever he swung by your apartment; saying hey, sunshine and giving you a side hug by way of greeting; disguising his compliments as insults. 

The list was very long.

They’d noticed the elastic he kept around his wrist at all times too—it was one of the two you’d used to tie his hair into little ponytails because you were convinced you could transform him into Boo from Monsters, Inc.   

Sunghoon himself had forgotten the reason he wore the elastic around his wrist. All he knew was that it was yours and it felt right. But when he read the comments obsessing about it, he rushed to watch the video your fans were referring to. 

And damn, they were right. 

Sunghoon didn’t know if you’d seen the comments your fans regularly left on your various social media pages. You’d never mentioned anything about the community calling you “couple goals,” and he was too much of a coward to inquire if you were aware. 

It was infuriating to know how transparent he was. Sunghoon wished he’d never gotten used to the camera and let slip his true self. 

Perhaps this was the cost of gaining the boyfriend material label—his unrequited feelings exposed for the entire world to see. 

Sunghoon would never admit it, but he’d spent the better part of a day reporting everyone who’d shipped him with you. The entire incident had truly made him go off the rails. 

However, today’s revelation was unexpected. It was an opportunity. A chance to experience something he’d desired for many years. Suddenly, he found himself thanking those busybodies online instead of cussing them out for being ridiculously invested in his love life.

Sunghoon knew saying yes to your proposition would bite him in the ass later on. He knew he’d crave more of you once he got a taste of being your boyfriend, and giving this fake relationship a shot would definitely make it harder for him to get over you in the future. He knew he was a massive idiot for willingly indulging in impending heartbreak, but he could always cross that bridge when he came to it.  

“Okay,” he said, meeting your gaze. “I’m in.”  

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