#the amount of people this could fit oh my god

[seokmattchuus]

Enough - Optional bias ver.

One, not my best but it's as good as it's gonna get. Sorry. Kinda.

-

You never meant for it to get this far, but you really couldn’t help yourself.

Cheating while in a relationship wasn’t you. It wasn’t the kind of person you wanted to be. But at this point, keeping your morals was useless.

Maybe you thought that because your affair was with your best friend.

Your long-term boyfriend, Jae, just wasn’t cutting it. You never understood why he stayed with you. You never went on dates anymore. Anniversaries were just normal days. Texts and calls were rare. He just wasn’t who he used to be. Not to mention he had his fair share of using someone else.

Maybe that’s why you started falling for said best friend.

You’d always call him after arguing with Jae and one night, one thing led to another before you found yourself back at his place.

It was never a part of the plan to keep it up after the first night but something about the way he started looking at you had you coming back for more. He offered everything Jae didn’t.

You even considered leaving your sorry excuse of a boyfriend for good, but you hadn’t even seen him the past couple days to do that. Him claiming he needed “time” before seeing you again. 

Not that you were complaining. It’s not like you didn’t have someone to spend time with anyway.

And maybe that’s how you found yourself wrapped up in his arms while watching a movie on his couch.

“Do you even plan on leaving him?” His voice took your attention away from the screen and you sighed.

“I take it you weren’t even watching the movie.” You deadpanned, not ready to have this conversation for the umpteenth time.

“How can I?” He scoffed. “I’m running on borrowed time, anyway. Who knows when you’ll go back to him and I have to wait for him to throw another bitch fit in order to see you again.” He shook his head, the sounds from the television drowning out as you turned to face him. “It’s not like he’s all that faithful, either. We both know how he’s spending that ‘time’ he claims he ‘needs’.”

The words had you falling silent. Never did you think he would bring it up, especially since you both agreed not to.

“You have no right-”

“I’m just so sick of seeing you come over and knowing it’s because he pushed you away. Or because he fucked up again. Or because you can’t stand him. I hate seeing you and knowing I’m your second choice.”

“You knew it was going to be that way.” You sighed, turning to face him. “You said yourself you’d never date me, so why are you bringing this up now?”

“Because I care.” He raised his voice, moving to sit up, making you sit up as well. “I always have.” He paused. “It’s just-” He sighed, running a frustrated hand through his hair. “A little more, now.”

It was quiet for a moment until he spoke up again.

“You know he’s with her.” He chuckled bitterly. “And you’re here with me.” He swallowed bitterly. “So why are you two even together?”

“Ho-”

You started, but got cut off as your phone started ringing, and you turned your attention to it.

“Don’t.” He said as you turned it over. “Y/n, I’m serious. Don’t.” His voice was more stern but you answered it anyway. Mostly out of spite, but also to see if he was right.

But you couldn’t even hear anything as he snatched your phone away and ended the call. You reached over but he stood up and held it away from you.

“God, you’ll always pick him, won’t you?” He raised his voice as you still tried to reach for it, nearly hitting him in the process. “You keep running back to him like he’s the only person that exists.” He continued, grabbing your wrist so he could still your movements.

Your lips folded in as a poor attempt to keep your feelings in as you blinked away the tears that were threatening to fall. The past tension plus the sudden information about Jae’s side piece hit you a little too hard and it was all getting too much.

“It’s not like that.” You spoke softly, but you knew he wasn’t lying.

And it only made you more upset.

You always did go back to him. Like he was some sort of fucked up home base for you to start over at.

“Really? Because it’s exactly like that.” He scoffed. “Why else would he tell you he needed time?” He questioned, his grip falling from your wrist. “For something he did, at that?” His voice was louder this time as his head fell back with a sarcastic laugh. “Had you not shown up early that day, who knows what you would’ve walked in on.”

You got quiet, a tear finally falling as the memory came rushing back, his words sinking in.

You’d gotten this speech a thousand times, but hearing it from him only made you feel worse.

“Why can’t you just see it?” His tone was softer now, and you couldn’t stop the rest of the tears from falling. He’d always fixed you on these kinds of nights, why was he suddenly so upset?

“If I wanted a lecture about how shitty my choice in men is, I’d ask.” You spoke lowly, your tone strained as you tried to keep a hold on your emotions. “And since you’re so sick of m-”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.” He cut you off. “I’m just sick of seeing you like this. And I’m sick of you saying you go back because it’s what you’ve gotten used to.” He continued. “I’ve been here longer. Have I never been something you were used to?”

The words took you by surprise and in your current mindset, you couldn’t really think about what he just said.

“It’s easy to go back because you love him.” He started as he looked down at you. “But try being with someone who loves you.”

It was quiet as his words settled between the two of you. 

“Do you mean that?” You spoke up, your tone more stable as you looked up at him.

“I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t.” He countered, closing the space between the two of you. “So make a choice.” He said. “I can’t keep doing this.”

“And if I picked you?” You said, your eyes looking away. “What makes you so great?” 

He chuckled at the comment, his arms wrapping around your hips and pulling you flush against him. 

“I’m so great because you always run back to me.” He whispered, slowly moving in. “I’m so great because you always end up back in my bed.” He smirked, his lips stilling right before they reached yours. “I’m so great because you know deep down I’m better than he’ll ever be.”

His face tilted so he could place a kiss on your cheek before pulling away. 

“So who’s it gonna be?” 

“What do you think?” You licked your bottom lip playfully. “I’m still here, aren’t I?”

“But I want to hear you say it.” He said seriously. “I need to know I’m what you want.”

You looked at him and smiled slightly. 

“You are.” You said. “But I think I need a little convincing before I make my final decision.”

He scoffed lightly.

“You just love playing with me, don’t you?” He tsked as he pulled away. “You know that never ends well, right?” 

“Oh, shut up.” You chuckled before grabbing his shirt and pulling him closer so you could finally kiss him.

It didn’t take long before the kiss deepened and he was carrying you towards his bedroom and sitting down so you were straddling him.

His hands slowly slid around your sides to the hem of your shirt, slightly playing with it before pulling away so he could slide it over you. Once it was gone, he wasted no time in getting rid of your bra, a small gasp leaving you as his cold hands made contact with your chest.

“You’re always so sensitive.” He smirked as he looked at you.

“And you’re always so talkative.” You bit back, another gasp leaving you as he pinched your nipple.

“Don’t act like you don’t love it.” He smiled. “You love it when I don’t shut up.”

His hands pulled away and moved their focus to your hips, slightly pushing them against his own.

“After all, you’re the one who says you love my dirty talk.” He smiled cheekily before leaning into your chest to press small kisses against you, his hand moving from your hip to the button of your shorts, easily undoing it while his lips moved to your nipple. 

Your hips didn’t need his guidance as they were moving on their own against him. Your hands moved on their own accord as well, one settling on his shoulder while the other tangled itself in his hair.

“We don’t need this tonight,” You bit your lip as you let your head fall back. As good as it felt, you really couldn’t handle it right now.

“But I want to.” He whispered against you. “You chose me, after all. I wanna make it worth it.”

“Now is not the time for an ego thing.” You chuckled. “Just fuck me already.”

“So snappy.” He playfully sighed before moving to lay you down so he was on top. 

“That’s why you like me, no?” You smiled up at him as he slid your shorts off.

Your comment got a small laugh in response as he then worked on getting rid of your underwear. He didn’t say anything as he knelt between your legs, his hands slowly spreading your thighs before gently sliding up, just to come back down.

“Don’t tease,” You looked away, suddenly feeling shy in front of him.

“Don’t.” He whispered, his voice coaxing you to look back at him. “I want to see you.”

You licked your lips as you watched him place small kisses along the span of your legs, nipping slightly as he got closer before pulling away entirely.

“God, you’re such a tease,” You groaned as he grabbed the hem of his shirt, quickly pulling it over him. “I hate you,” 

“You won’t be saying that soon.” He snickered, starting on the button of his jeans.

Once his own clothes were gone, it wasn’t long before he pulled you flush against him, your legs lightly wrapped around his waist.

“I’ve always wondered what it was like to fuck you off a time limit.” He licked his lips as he ran his tip down your slit, slowly pushing it in. “You don’t have to leave, and I don’t have to rush,” He continued, slowly pushing in deeper. “You’re all mine for tonight.” He whispered as he bottomed out.

You wanted to make a comment about the ego thing but got cut off as he quickly pulled back just to snap his hips into yours. The pleasure making you forget whatever you wanted to say.

His hands grabbed onto your legs, lightly moving them from his waist and spread them out, the new feeling making your eyes close. It wasn’t long before your eyes had screwed themselves shut as the pace he set left you

“No.” He shook his head, a small smirk playing at his lips as he gripped your chin to force you to look at him. “Look at me.” He said simply. “I want you to see who’s fucking you.” He whispered as he leaned in to press a kiss to the side of your neck.

“I want you to know that it’s me making you feel like this.” He said before pressing another kiss. “That he can’t ever make you feel this good.” He chuckled softly. “Because if he could,” He softly bit down on your sweet spot. “We both know you wouldn’t be here.”

You hated that he was right, but you really weren’t in the position to fight back when he knew how to fuck you just right. 

“Tell me.” He smirked. “Tell me how much you love it when I fuck you.”

"I love it so much," You whined as your eyes narrowed when he leaned back up, his hand reaching out to rub your clit. "Fuck, please don't stop,"

He watched as you fell apart, part of him not sure if he wanted to give into you that easily. He decided on slowing his pace, both in his hips and his hand, scoffing at the loud groan you let out.

"You think that's enough to make it up to me?" His tone holding something different as everything came to a complete stop. "I'm here giving you what you want but what about me?"

"I'll break up with him, I swear." You swallowed as your eyes stayed on his.

You weren't lying. Truth be told, you were, in fact, sick of his shit.

"We can go get my stuff from his place tomorrow and I'll never even think about him again." Your voice wavered as his fingers started up again. "It's you." You whined. "It's always been you."

With that, he started up again. The confirmation that you were actually picking him for once being more than enough to settle the score in his head.

"Shit," He groaned as he watched your hand reach out for his arm, your nails digging into him as your legs started shaking. "Go ahead, baby." He grunted as he felt you clench around him, his own hips stuttering as you finally came undone.

He pulled out as soon as your high hit, using your daze to catch you off guard as his head found a place between your thighs. Your hands attached themselves to his hair, desperately trying to push him away, only for his arms to wrap around your thighs.

"Nuh-uh, baby," He pulled away to whisper, his lips pressing light kisses to the inside of your thigh.

"I'm going to be the only thing you think about tonight."

#the amount of people this could fit oh my god #why am i like this #x1 smut #victon smut #wei smut #woodz smut #seventeen smut #vixx smut #ateez smut #astro smut #cix smut #sf9 smut #monsta x smut #stray kids smut #vav smut #ikon smut #a.c.e smut #the boyz smut #the rose smut #got7 smut #pentagon smut #kim wooseok smut #exo smut #kard smut #nct smut #wayv smut #kpop smut #mine #zerobaseone smut

[starstruckmiraclekitty]

Oh GOD, a crazy idea came into my head. What would happen if each of these five men faced the problem of an unexpectedly broken bed during rough sex?? How would they react and what would they do? i'm terrible...

Literally laughed out loud at this one. Thank you🤣🤭 Hope this does your request justice!

PS: literally got second hand embarrassment writing this

141 + König Breaking their GN! Partners Bed

Warnings: This is trash, smut, cursing

Simon "Ghost" Riley-

You were bouncing up on down on Simon's cock, your hole swallowing his shaft entirely with each movement.

Simon could tell your body was starting to weaken, and decided he'd take the initiative to help you find your release.

He'd flipped you over, so that he was on top, trapping you in a missionary pose.

Lining himself up with your entrance, he began pounding into you with a brutal speed.

Evidently, the bed was not made to withstand the amount of force that Simon was emitting, as he was practically fucking you into the mattress.

Mid thrust, the beds legs had completely given out, causing your mattress to go tumbling to the ground in the middle of the bed frame.

The two of you grew very quiet as you both took in what just happened. You looked up at him and saw a small smile forming on his lips before letting out a fit of giggles.

"Think it's funny, do ya?" He asked, chuckling. He kissed your brow before returning his lips to your neck.

"Simon, its broken!" You managed to get out in between giggles. "We can't continue like this!"

"Say's who? 'S fine, needed a new one anyways. " He smirked as he continued his movements, still wholly intent on still having you each find your release. He sure wasn't about to let a broken bed prevent him from making you feel good.

"Johnny "Soap" MacTavish-

Johnny wasn't one to be rough in bed much. The two of you often having your rough sex in the shower.

He'd woken you late in the night one night, as he was beyond sexually frustrated, and his fist just wasn't enough.

With your legs wrapped around his waist, and his arms tightly gripping your headboard, Johnny was pounding into you at a brutal pace.

His grip on the headboard had tightened, and just as he had almost reached his high, the headboard had snapped in half underneath his grip.

Soap immediately stopped his movements, staring on in shock at the piece of broken wood in his hands.

"Jolly." He cursed, looking down to find you staring at him with wide eyes.

"Did you just break our bed...Johnny?" You asked, a hint of a smile forming on your face.

"I uh.. I think I did, lass." He slowly pulled himself out of you, and set the piece of wood on the floor. He was about to turn and mumble his apologies when he heard a loud cackle come from you. "Darlin?"

"YOU BROKE OUR BED!" You hollered, unable to control your laughter.

Johnny gave a sheepish glance to you, and rubbed his hand along his mohawk in embarrassment. "I'm so sorry, I'll get us a new one."

"Don't bother, this is a hilarious story to tell people when they come visit. Oh hey, why is half your headboard missing? Oh, yeah Johnny fucked me so hard he broke it!." You doubled over in laughter, causing a smile to form on Johnny's lip, as he too started to chuckle.

The bed did in fact remain there, and you and he never could get through telling the story to your friends without laughing.

John Price-

Price was always one for rough sex. The man craved it. He loved seeing his marks littering your body, and hearing your desperate moans for him to go harder.

Tonight was no different, and you and John were in bed, his hand fisting your hair, while thrusting into you from behind.

"F-uuck. Feels so good, love." He'd groaned, feeling you clench around him

He'd put more pressure in his knees, so he was able to ground himself better, the movement causing a CRACK to come from your bed.

John's brows furrowed in concern, before the end of the bed collapsed on the floor, causing the mattress to fall at an angle.

John had fallen backward at the impact, losing his balance and landing on his ass with a thud.

"John!" You cried, turning yourself around to see your husband on the floor, laughing hysterically.

He threw his head back in laughter, causing you to laugh yourself. "I am so sorry about that love. Can't say that's ever happened to me before."

The two of you laughed together, as john moved to stand up, inspecting the damage that was done. The bed was destroyed, the foot board beyond repair.

"What do you say we go to Ikea, pick out a new one yeah?" He asked, helping you off the broken bed. You nodded your head eagerly, catching your breath from your laughter.

Later that night, once your new bed was put together, Price made damn sure to put it to the test.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick-

Kyle had a tough day at work, nothing was going his way. From spilling coffee on himself, to shutting his finger in the car door, he was convinced the world was out to get him.

He was in serious need of a stress reliever, and was over the moon when you'd taken him to the bedroom once he walked in the door.

Kyle had you in missionary, and was jutting into you in a frenzied pace, desperately seeking his release

He'd evidently put too much pressure on the one side of the bed, because a loud cracking noise filled the room.

The post on the right side of your bed had split, causing the bed to shift at an angle, sending the two of you tumbling off the side of the bed.

You'd landed on Kyle with a THUD, the two of you on the landing on the floor next to the now broken bed.

Kyle's eyes widened as he looked over to the bed, and looked back to you, about to mumble his apologies.

You bit your lip to stifle a laugh. You knew he had a really bad day, and presumed laughing at this would only make it worse.

Kyle sat in silence for a moment before a laugh escaped his lips. "Fuck this day, man. I can't even shag my partner without something going wrong."

The two of you erupted in laughter, as Kyle moved to lay on the ground next to you.

"Babe, what do you say we do a pillow fort in the living room tonight? Get some wine and pizza and have a movie night?" You asked, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "We'll worry about the bed tomorrow."

"God, you're so perfect for me. I love you." He declared, pressing a kiss to your lips.

Though the evening didn't go as Kyle had originally planned, he didn't regret a second of it.

Konig-

Konig was going fucking ham on you in your shared bed.

He'd been away on deployment for nearly 3 months, and barely made it through the door before the two of you jumped each other

He had you in a mating press, and was punishing your hole at a brutal pace.

He'd barley fit on your bed as it was, so his feet were pressed firmly on the footboard of your bed as he was jutting into you.

"Harder, please." You'd begged him, causing his mind to go blank as he obeyed your commands.

He pushed just a bit harder against the foot board, allowing him to go deeper

The force from his feet had caused the wood to crack, and split open, the top half of the foot board falling off.

"Heilige Scheiße!" Konig cried out, turning to look at what he'd just done.

You sat up abruptly, and looked at the end of the bed, before howling with laughter.

"Maus?" He asked, brows furrowed in confusion. "Why are you laughing?"

You were unable to get a word out, from how hard you were laughing. Konig's cheeks burned from his embarrassment, and he muttered something incoherent in German under his breath.

"Baby, no! It's fine. I'm not laughing at you, I promise. You have to admit that was funny." You immediately went to console your boyfriend.

"But I broke your bed, you should be mad at me."

"I am not mad in the slightest, that just made my day." You chuckled. "Please, it's okay I promise."

He nodded his head and allowed the giggle bubbling in his chest to escape his lips.

He'd still felt terrible about breaking your bed though, and spent the rest of the afternoon gluing the piece back together.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

#cod imagine #simon riley imagine #mw2 imagine #ghost x reader #ghost mw2 #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #konig x reader #konig imagine #konig mw2 #john price #captain price #price imagine #price x reader #soap smut #soap mctavish #soap imagine #soap x reader #gaz smut #gaz imagine #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #simon riley smut #konig cod #konig headcanons #price smut #ghost smut

[beatrixstonehill2]

"Hey guys, your favorite former fit girl, Ava, here with another quick vid sponsored by the lovely people at Hucow Heaven! When they first offered me to try their product as a brand deal I thought it was a joke, ngl. I'm a fitness vlogger with an a lean bust, barely a B-Cup. Why would someone like me want gigantic breasts? They got me on the phone with a representative who was so sweet and she told me I can opt out any time, but most women who tried their products kept going longer than they thought they would. So, I ask a bunch of questions like will it impede me from my workouts and lifestyle and she was blunt that yeah, it would after a while, and I'd be far more prone to retain fat while taking the product, since it encourages such large growth so fast!

I still wasn't convinced and she basically told me I'd be compensated extremely well even if I tried it for only a couple weeks.... That she knew I'd love it and my popularity would grow tremendously. Her logic was hard to argue with..... I could get super busty for a year or so, make tons of money, several more times than the amount to get my boobs reduced back, and pocket the rest. That Influencers and glamour models did it literally all the time. I.... caved, as you all know. I couldn't say no, she was so nice!

This is month four and yeah, I'm getting a bit chubby but I think the added thickness suits me, don't you? I've never looked more incredible and oh my god, these boobs are SO much fun. The back pain is totally worth it! I love them to death and flaunt them everywhere I go. People barely have to ask and I flash them in public and encourage anyone who wants to give them a feel. Or a squeeze..... Or a nice loud smack! God having them slapped around is so fun, I never used to like bondage of pain but having these huge fat titties get tied up or whipped or paddled or just grabbed so hard I feel like they're gonna pop..... I'm addicted to the pain soooo bad now. These fucking melons have turned me into a total whore. I practically can't so no these days, and if I do I don't actually try to stop them....

I used to hate unwanted attention from men. Now they grope my tits, rip off my tops, play with my boobs everywhere I go, and I'm always so turned on by it. I never knew I wanted this.... And I'm a HH-Cup after only four months.... That's six whole cup sizes in just four months! Imagine how big they'll be if I keep going? I know I should stop here, they're the perfect size and I'm still really mobile and light on my feet, but completely sexually liberated and free use.... Yet, I can't stop. I need them to get bigger, and bigger, and BIGGER until I know I've completely fucked up. I don't just want huge boobs, I want them to be debilitatingly massive. So fucking giant I can barely walk, maybe not at all. Imagine being disabled because I'm too big breasted? How pathetic I'd be..... poor fit girl who screwed up her whole life and health because having big titties was way too fun and hurting them was simply too addicting.... The representative told me once I started I'd keep going.... I didn't believe her. But look at them? All I can think is how amazing it would feel if I bloated these huge titties up so much they each weighed more than I used to before I started this sponsorship...... I bet you can't wait just as much as I can't!"

#be #breast expansion #breast inflation #gigantic breasts #free use kink

[padawansuggest]

Okay so on Coruscant there are very few people that don’t actually go out into the streets (I’m thinking politicians and Jedi might be some of the few who don’t have to go outside very often if at all because the senate and the temple are both the size of a small city) which means that 1: they NEED to have vitamin D lights on the streets of Coruscant because otherwise everyone would be depressed like in the deepest winter at all times. And 2: that means I think the Jedi temple and the senate themselves also are just full of Vitamin D lights.

Also y’all need to stop writing fics where kids are afraid of ‘getting caught sneaking around after dark’ or something because the temple is literally so full of species that you have no idea of that kid is nocturnal or whatever. They very well could be. Tbh I wanna write a fic where someone catches Obi-Wan sneaking around at night to play a prank with Quin or something and he’s all ‘bruh my eyes glow in the dark I’m obviously meant to be awake at this hour’ and no one can argue with him. Stuff like that.

Also I think the temple neeeeeeeds multiple healing halls (once more. It is the size of a small city) one in the aquatic center of the temple (which canonically exists) one in the temple main (which should span over like four levels and act as it’s own building okay) and one in the creche. This is the MINIMUM amount of healing halls I think they should have.

A tram system should be inside the walls. Places in the temple that act as sideways lifts and also a subway system because believe it or not, there are species in the temple as small as one foot tall, and I’m not just talking about Grogu, I’m talking about others like Kushiban and others similar. Once more. It is the size of a small city. They should have both subway type stations (that take you certain places like the main healing halls or the biggest canteen or the supply sector of the temple things like that) because oh my god imagine how many hours the commute to your workstation could take if you didn’t have that shit. Annoying af.

They gotta have names for all the different canteens okay. Like ‘meet me in the cafeteria’ in a temple the size of a small city is bullshit cause even in the books they have multiple cafeterias.

A… let’s call it a Mall Section of the temple. A place where you can pick up groceries (the temple makes their own food and I assume most of it is cooked in careens but also not letting people cook their own food is a recipe for a Jedi starving to death on a mission lmao) but they also have a salon (skin care and hair care are very important and if you let all these babies cut their own hair they gonna turn out like me no one wants that) and a clothing ‘store’ where you can get certain size clothes and robes from, or even undercover mission clothes. There need to be Jedi in these places too!!! Imagine going to the salon with your master and having a gossip talk about your new lineage member!!! It’s important to society!!!

A Jedi movie theater where the masters send their kiddos on the weekend so they can enjoy a glass of wine and not be sneezed on for three hours.

I’ve actually seen a few mentions in fics and posts about tea salons so that is def also a thing. It’s the Jedi version of a cafe. I think people who like baking take turns working there and everyone chips in for tea selections and stuff.

Droid Ubers. They need to get somewhere but feel sick as heck and it’s not near any good lifts or the subway trams??? Call a droid Uber lmao. It shouldn’t be unusual either lol just grandmaster on his way to bother his kid while not aggravating his hip after hip surgery.

Remember that Jedi who are like 10 foot tall also exist so remember there ARE apartments in the temple that could fit Kenobi’s Dino-Horse girl Boga.

There should also be apartments with like 10 bedrooms and bathrooms (or even one giant communal bathroom) around a singular living/cooking space!!! Let Jedi live in communes!!!!

The aquatic levels of the creche are def the cutest place in the temple you can’t argue with me on the idea of water babies swimming and cuddling under water.

On another note to the fact that species like Kushiban exist???? Imagine tiny doors and corridors that used to be used by mouse droids but they became so useful to tiny Jedi so they got taken over. Just imagine that.

Bartering markets where Jedi trade things, mostly things they get on missions or are given to them as gifts, nothing goes to waste so they find a proper place for all gifts and extras here.

Cooking classes. Obi-Wan has been kicked out of all of them his cooking is so bad. Anakin claims bullshit he loves Master’s cooking! But then, he also eats worms…

Anyways. Y’all too single minded with this shit. It just be all ‘cafeteria, living quarters, healing halls and archives’ with you guys. Where is the culture. Where is the acknowledgment of multiple species all living in the same area taking place in a culture of peace and galactic exploration???? Give them a liquor store idgaf.

#star wars #obi wan kenobi #clone wars #the Jedi

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Final Girl.

Pairing: Yandere!Chrollo x Reader (HxH).

Word Count: 1.4k.

TW: 'Girl' Is In The Title But Reader Is Gender Neutral, Death and Blood, Mentions of Guns, Manipulation, Implied Kidnapping, and Spoilers for the Ninteenth-Century Novel Dracula.

The night you met him was, by no coincidence, also the night you learned what it meant to feel your blood run cold.

‘Met’ might’ve been an exaggeration. You didn’t meet him so much as you stood still and stared at him – lumbering down the hallway, clutching a gore-splattered butcher's knife, his suit disheveled and stained with a dark, blotting substance you couldn’t bring yourself to put a name to, in your fear-induced paralysis. With the manor's high ceilings and dim lighting, he seemed impossibly tall, his black eyes blank and terrible, his smile manic in a way that sent a chill up your spine, that left you frozen where you stood and unable to run as he came to stand in front of you, as he raised a hand and—

And pointed to the book tucked under your arm, a yellowed paperback beaten to hell and back from weeks of loving abuse. You’d spent hours wondering if you should bring it with you, if there was anyone else on the face of the planet who’d be stupid enough to bring a book to a mascarade ball, but you figured you’d have to step out for a breath of fresh air at some point, tonight, and phones weren’t really an option at this kind of thing. Looking back on it, you struggled to remember why you’d spent so much time agonizing over something so inconsequential, especially when whoever found your body likely wouldn’t pay it a second glance. “Is that—” He started, pausing to wet his lips before correcting himself. “Is that Bram Stoker’s Dracula?”

You blinked several times, shifting your weight. “It is,” you managed, eventually, just before the point of no return. “I… I’m only a few chapters in, though. They’re only on the second blood transfusion.”

His smile widened. “I’m reading it for the second time, now. That’s one of the best passages - you can practically feel the dread mounting in the prose.” While he spoke, you stole another glance at his attire. With your shock beginning to fade and your nerves given a few seconds to cool, you could see that he clearly hadn’t just walked out of a crime scene. His clothes were wrinkled, but not torn, not displaced the way they would’ve been if he’d been in a real fight, and he was covered in a cartoonish amount of (presumably fake) blood. He couldn’t have meant for it to be realistic, not unless you were supposed to believe he’d bled twenty people dry on his own.

He must’ve noticed you staring. His rambling trailed off into an airy chuckle, his free hand drifting to his blood-soaked shirt. “I’m afraid I might’ve misread my invitation,” he admitted, with a slight shrug. You were almost in awe of his nonchalance. Showing up to a masquerade ball in a costume fit for a b-rated haunted house would’ve left you catatonic for… god, the rest of the year, at least. “That’s how I found my way back here, actually. You can understand why I wouldn’t want to stay in the ballroom for very long, considering I’m dressed for a very different party.”

“No, no, that makes a lot of sense! I mean, a costume party would be more in-season.” You felt like an idiot. You could only hope you hadn’t looked as scared as you felt. “Honestly, I’m just surprised they let you in with a prop.”

He glanced to his ‘knife’, too, as if he’d forgotten he was holding it. “Oh, this little thing?” He took the blade in his free hand, bending it downward. Unceremoniously, it snapped into two pieces as easily as if it’d been made of little more than tin foil and plastic - which, to be fair, it probably was. “Most people struggle to see me as a threat, for whatever reason.”

“The doormen probably just felt bad for the strange man who showed up to a charity gala covered in blood.” You spared a small smile, then genuinely brightened, taking up your novel and fishing out the spare mask you’d shoved between the pages while you were getting ready. He should’ve counted himself lucky that you could never be bothered to find a real bookmark. “Mine came in a set of two,” you explained, signaling for him to bend down. A little too easily, he obeyed, stooping just low enough for you to work your spare mask over his head. It was cheaper than anything you would usually like to show off – the base simple black cloth, the embroidery meaninglessly gaudy, the main body kept in place by little more than a simple white ribbon that never seemed to sit just right, but he accepted your offering with a grateful hum. “It’s not much, but—” You paused, buttoning his suit jacket, doing your best to make it look a little less like he’d just walked out of a bad slasher movie and a little more like a tragically color-blind, but ultimately well-dressed party-goer. “It should get you through the door.”

He straightened his back, and you thought you might’ve seen something spark in his dark eyes. Then again, it could’ve just been the moonlight. “I don’t think I ever got your name.”

Oh, right – that was something most people did before offering to fix a stranger’s clothes, wasn’t it? You rushed to introduce yourself, and he did the same. “Chrollo Lucilfer.” And then, offering you his hand, “Perhaps I’d be more warmly received with a plus one?”

As hesitant as you were to slip back into the ballroom on the arm of a disheveled stranger who’d already made an impression of his own, it would’ve broken your heart to turn him down. That, and you might’ve had a weakness for disheveled strangers who fell on the more handsome side of the spectrum.

You laughed as you threaded your arm through his, letting Chrollo guide you back to the main event. A second passed with only the sound of your footsteps and distance music to fill the quiet, then another. Eventually, you broke the silence. “It’s very well-written,” you started, trying to fight the urge to fidget. “But… I don’t think I’m the right audience. I care too much about Lucy. Seeing her go through so much and knowing she’s not going to make it is just—” You sighed, shook your head. “It’s agony. Especially when the villain is literally in the title. I mean, I know the characters don’t know that, but still.”

“The benefit of a voyeur's perspective.” For all his glowing praise, he didn’t seem very offended. “I think the dramatic irony is part of the appeal. By the time the tension breaks, it’s nearly too painful to keep going.”

“Which is exactly why it hurts to read,” you groaned, slumping into his side. “I get why it’s happening, but I just can’t stand spending so long on the build-up knowing how it’s going to end. It probably doesn’t help that Lucy’s one of my favorites, either. Well, aside from Mina, but it wouldn’t be fair to compare her to the author’s self-insert.”

The two of you came to a pair of rounded oak doors. There’d been a pair of attendants stationed outside when you left, but Chrollo didn’t seem to mind shouldering it open himself, ushering you inside with a smile and an idle gesture. You took a second to steel your nerves, still not entirely prepared to throw yourself into a very crowded room filled with very loud music and very eager socialites, then crossed the threshold, coming face to face with—

Carnage. Pure, unadulterated carnage.

There were bodies everywhere, each corpse mangled and bruised and broken in every possible way. Dark blood and broken glass covered the formerly pristine ivory floor, and the walls were painted with the remnants of gunfire. A few people were still standing – the murderers, you figured, judging by the blood on their outlandish clothes, the weapons in their hands, the indifferent agitation written across their expressions as you stared at them in horror, as your heart threatened to give out for the second time that night. The tallest man you’d ever seen pointed a hand-held machine gun in your direction, but Chrollo found his way back to your side, resting a hand on your shoulder as he spoke. “Hold your fire,” he said, casually, as if you weren’t standing at the edge of a bloodbath. As if he’d known what he was leading you into. “I think I’m going to keep this one.”

You didn’t say anything. You couldn’t speak. You couldn’t move. You couldn’t breathe. The air hitched in your throat as he brought a hand up to your chin, tilting your head back and forcing you to meet his unblinking stare. You’d been right the first time. There was never anything his eyes could’ve been but terrible. “I always did like Mina.”

There was never anything he could’ve been but a monster, prowling for his next kill.

“I guess I just have a soft spot for survivors.”

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere oneshot #yandere hunter x hunter #hunter x hunter #hunter x hunter imagines #yandere hxh #hxh imagines #yandere chrollo lucilfer #chrollo x reader #yanderecore #yancore

[eideticallys]

WooPea!

pairing: spencer reid x reader

summary: you start your day right, cracking science jokes & making spencer reid smile. the other bau team members be damned! or, you crack the worst jokes in the planet & emily has had enough of it.

genre: fluff

word count: 481

author's notes: one thing about me is i enjoy spencer's tangents so i hope you'll enjoy this one. also posted on ao3 (spencereids).

MAYBE IT WAS A LITTLE BIT IMMATURE OF YOU TO CRACK THE SILLIEST SCIENCE JOKES TO GET THE ATTENTION YOU WANTED FROM THAT ONE COWORKER OF YOURS. But who cares? One smile from Dr. Spencer Reid, and you’ve turned into mush, a completely melted piece of goo. What makes you want to crack stupid jokes is the fact that right after smiling brightly like he was the sun himself, Spencer would go off on one of his tangents, explaining the mechanics and science behind whatever it is you just joked about. 

And so, you do it every single day as soon as you enter the bullpen, Spencer quickly rushing to your side to hear what you have to say while the others—Emily, Derek, and JJ—are quick to reach their invisible soundproof headphones—ready to muffle the sounds of yours and Spencer’s giggles.

It’s surprising to them that both of you still haven’t realized that one is in love with the other. It’s cute but irritating. The amount of mutual pining and stupidity from two of the brightest minds in the FBI, being able to profile prolific criminals but not the person who’s always two steps away from the other. At this point, both of you were joined at the hip. If they saw you, there’s no doubt Spencer is right behind you, and vice versa. 

And today is just like any other day, you arrived with a new joke in mind, and Spencer rushed to your side ready to hear you. 

“What did Gregor Mendel say when he founded Genetics?” You perkily asked the man beside you handing you your coffee. “And thanks for the coffee, Reid.”

“What?” Reid questioned as he nodded at your thanks. 

“WooPea!” You laughingly replied as you could hear the simultaneous groans of three other people behind Reid. “You do know I could hear all three of you, right?” You frowned jokingly.

“We know. That’s why we’re groaning.” 

“Oh, come on, you guys!” Spencer came to your defense. “It was a funny joke! Gregor Mendel would’ve definitely said that. The Pisum sativum, or what we commonly know as the garden pea, helped him carry out a lot of key experiments that studied inheritance. Even geneticists still use that nowadays.”  

Spencer continued babbling which you encouraged as you both sat down at your respective tables. Both of you too lost in your bubble to hear the others, Emily sighed and turned to Derek and JJ.

“I’ve had enough of those two.” She muttered a bit bitterly. “If not one of them confesses by the end of the week, or so help me God! I will take it in my hands and lock them inside a closet to figure it out.”

Both Derek and JJ broke out in fits of laughter, catching both yours and Spencer’s attention.

“Hey! Fill us both in on what’s going on!” 

#criminal minds #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal mins fanfic #criminal minds fic #spencer reid #spencer reid fandom #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #spencer reid smut #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x oc #emily prentiss #derek morgan #jennifer jareau

[trashmouth-richie]

Eddie x fem!reader. [vol I]

Summary: just a bit of Eddie’s shenanigans 😈

TW: no minors, angst, mentions of hard times.

W.C: 4.7k

A/N: hope you are all enjoy this! Thank you for all the love received on the first chapter 🥰

You spent the rest of the night questioning why you ever placed the ad in the paper to begin with. Certainly you could just go to sleep and you’d wake up to all of Eddie’s belongings gone because this was a nightmare.. right? Of course. You’d wake up any minute now and things would go back to the way they used to be.

////

//

-

Oh how you had hoped.

Eddie wearing your robe was just the tip of the iceberg of the stupid shit he would endure for the next 12 hours. After eating 7 slices of pizza, he wiped his greasy hands down the front of it. Settling for that instead of the arms of the couch after you had scolded him. He talked during the entire episode of The Nanny.

“Holy shit, she’s hot, I mean her voice is kinda nasally but woooowwweeeee.. you think she’s into metalheads? I bet she is. I bet she’d love to be wrapped all up in me, it'd be a secret though for her.” He talked with his mouth full, bits of cheese and pizza sauce flying from his lips and landing on his naked chest. His feet were propped up on the coffee table, toes wiggling like he was a child watching cartoons. “Got any chips? I’m hungry.”

He left a mess wherever he went. The chips he begged you for were still sitting open on the couch. Crumbs decorated the upholstery like confetti at a New Year’s Eve party. His pizza plate on the coffee table, holding an impressive amount of beer cans. Instead of hanging your robe back up on its proper hook in the bathroom, he left it on the floor in between the living room and the hallway. You had gone to bed after he insisted on belching “Love Bites” with three beers tucked between his legs. It was at this moment you thought of begging Steve and Robin to move in with you instead.

“For the last time, I refuse to try to out burp you, I will not be duct taping beers to my hands, and for the love of god if you get salsa on the carpet I will skin you alive.”

“It puts the lotion on its skin….”

You stomp to bed, slamming your bedroom door and throwing the covers over your head. You can hear Eddie slurring through your bedroom walls.

“C’mon Tooooty, I thought we were having a slumber party. You didn’t even paint my nails yet!” His small hiccuping giggles turn into a roar of laughter lasting entirely too long.

-

The next morning you wake up to your alarm, it’s peaceful, content. Today is a new day and you have a busy schedule working at the salon. Saturdays are easily the most hectic at Josie’s. It seems it’s the only day off for most people to come in and get their hair done. You dress in a simple black tank top tucked into a black mini skirt, a form fitting denim vest over top, and black chunky slide sandals. Spritzing yourself with your Exclamation perfume you just have to brush your teeth and grab a little breakfast.

Upon opening your bedroom door you are hit with a stench so ungodly, it makes the hair stand up on your arms. Did a fucking tornado crash through your home? How hard were you sleeping? You felt like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz only in reverse, while she was mystified by the sights around her you were full of rage, disgust, and sheer anger.

Eddie.

For fucks sake it is almost as if he needed a goddamn babysitter.

Beer cans litter the floor. A silver ball made of duct tape was sitting on the couch, the small tv was still on. All your VHS’s were scattered along the floor by the entertainment center. A plate of what looked like hardened shredded cheese was balancing on the edge of the coffee table. Rolling papers, and two joints were piled on top of it, along with various baggies of god knows what. Chips were ground into the carpet, their sharp edges making the carpet glitter with nacho cheese and tortilla shrapnel. And sitting opened and probably now dry, was the blue nail polish you had gotten with Robin. The whole place reeked of the dirty rotten scent of spilled stale beer soaking cotton fabric, the remnants of weed wafting from the furniture baking into the fibers from the sun streaming through the windows in lazy strips of golden yellow.

Homicide is probably what? 10 years? You could manage that.

You make your way into the culprits room, swearing under your breath and feeling the sweat start on the back of your neck. Pushing through the heap of clothes and worn boots, you find the prince of trash laying on his back, soft snores escaping his slack mouth. There aren’t even sheets on his mattress, just mountains of his belongings.

A beer is taped crudely to his left hand, your brand new bottle of jergens lays next to him along with a playboy— flipped open to a brunette with obvious fake tits and her lips placed into an orgasm. He apparently threw some boxers on during his midnight raccoon shenanigans.

This is comparable to bringing home a dog from the humane society, you aren’t sure how they’ll act but once you go to sleep— all hell breaks lose.

“Eddie,” you yell, loud enough that your own ears are ringing. He doesn’t move a muscle, just a loud snore erupting from him. You kick at his legs, push his body around but nothing. If it weren’t for the snoring you probably should have called a coroner.

One last slap against his bare chest and he finally groans, “gimme five more minutes baby and I promise I’ll rock your world.” Jesus Christ.

Fuck it, just go to work, you can deal with him when you get home. Breath in and out. Nope— the fuse that was lit in your brain from Eddie’s mess inches its way slowly towards the dynamite, licking up the wick. Also like a dog from the shelter, they need to be trained, told when they are doing something wrong, and immediately corrected.

Filling a cup with cold water you waltz back into his room a smile plastered to your lips.

The splash of water against Eddie’s face is music to your ears as he gasps for breath. Spluttering and sitting up, spilling the beer taped to his hand, he looks like a cat that was thrown in the tub, long curls soaking wet, his bangs parted and thrown back from the force of the water hitting him.

“Damn sweetheart, I said give me five minutes and I’d give you all ten inches of my co—” the plastic cup bounces off of Eddie’s head. “Okay, ow. Goddamn what was that for?!”

“What was that for?! Look around Eddie!” You motion around the house as he stands up holding his head and pressing the palm of his right hand into his eye, dragging it down his face to wipe the remnants of cold water away, “this place is disgusting!”

You begin to list off everything wrong, as you walk around the house, Eddie following begrudgingly behind you, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. You point out the chips in the carpet, the hardened cheese plate, the vhs mess. Each and everything you show him your voice gets higher and higher and louder and louder. The rage bubbling up in your body as you huff around. A large hand and the odd sensation of a rubbery plastic mass spin you around, holding onto your shoulders.

Eddie’s face is so close to yours, you can see the sun reflecting off the usual darkened browns of his eyes, bringing a goldmine to the muddy surface.

“Tooty— it’s far too early for this shit,” he speaks slowly, the Cheshire Cat like grin on his stupid face spreads across his lips revealing his straight white teeth, “you need to relax a little bit.” He notices the weight of the beer can and tips it back into his mouth, chugging the rest of it and smacking his lips when he’s done. Adding a deafening belch upwards to the ceiling.

You curl your lip in disgust and shove his arm off of you. “What? Hair of the dog baby, gotta keep drinking to avoid a hangover.”

Crossing your arms and taking a step back from him, you take a deep breath, “I don’t know how you lived in the trailer park, and frankly— I don’t give a fuck—but, you will not, make a mess of my house. Either, clean this shit up before I get home from work, or I’ll personally move your crap out to the lawn. Got it?”

His smile fades, and his eyebrows pull together, eyes squinted. The hum of the ceiling fan is the only noise in the house. “Are you threatening me at 7:30 in the morning?” he asks, checking his watch, towering over you. No doubt he is trying to freak you out.

It takes everything in you to not slap him upside the head.

You stand your ground, not letting his carved jaw and mean eyed demeanor get the best of you.

“Damn right I am. I’ll have your shit lying on the lawn like a horrendous Halloween yard sale. Just because the whole town thinks you're some psycho, bastard doesn’t mean I do— you don’t scare me, Munson,” his surname falling from your lips like agent orange, thick and heavy painting the air around you both. Your head held high, eyes glaring back into his. His bravado falters and he also crosses his arms, matching your energy.

“Maybe you should pull the stick out of your ass before it splinters, babe.” Eddie chides back, lips spreading manically across his face.

Neither of you will let the other win, and if you didn’t have to go to work, you would stand here all day arguing with him. You poke a manicured nail into his chest. “You owe me a new bottle of lotion.” With that you push past him and make your way into the bathroom to finish getting ready.

“It was either that or the mayonnaise, sweetheart!”

-

You had always found comfort working at Josie’s. She had taken you on immediately after finishing Cosmetology school at Empire Beauty School in Indianapolis, giving you full time hours and helping you buy your supplies. Nancy had dropped down to part time, working for both the Hawkins Post and cutting hair on the side. Josie was like an older sister to you, and you loved her dearly.

After doing matching perm sets on a mother and daughter, a trim on your regular client, Audrey, and catching up with the latest gossip from Molly about her date that ended with them making out in his car—it was time for your lunch break.

The leftover half of a tuna salad sandwich stared you down from its cellophane wrapper, begging you to ingest the soggy yet stale bread. A stomach ache waiting to happen. Tossing it into the trash, you settle for Marlboro menthols and a Diet Coke. The sun is high in the sky, begging you to enjoy it.

You shed your vest as you sit on the back patio, leaning your head against the neon pink and white striped plastic pool chair lounger, stretching your legs out and kicking off your sandals. You accept the sun’s rays into your skin. Sunglasses poised on your face and a cigarette tucked between your mauve painted lips, you pretend you’re in a movie.

But you’re not— you’re in the middle of Butthole, Indiana. The only exciting thing that happened here was the possibility of hearing the latest town gossip about someone’s cousin, friend, or ex getting knocked up by the high school football star.

You longed for a day off where you and Robin could enjoy the once luxurious but not desolate woods of Lover’s Lake. Nothing but the peaceful breeze to fill your mind and the light rustle of the leaves.

Nancy pulled the blue matching chair up next to you, curling her legs beneath her as you silently pull your lighter from your pocket and hand it to her. A small cloud of smoke dances around your face as she lights her cigarette inhaling deeply.

“Ready for the honeymoon?” You ask her as she inches her way down the seat, a slight squeak to the rubbery plastic as she settles her body in.

Nancy and Jonathan had gotten married two months ago. The wedding was pristine and beautiful in typical Nancy fashion. Her glorious curls in a French twist, soft tendrils framing her youthful face. A pearl colored lace gown billowing behind her and sleeves puffed around her shoulders with dainty lace decorating down her delicate wrists. She looked incredible.

You cried standing beside Holly and El in your peach colored satin gowns, wiping your eyes when they read their nuptials, vowing to be together during sickness and in health. Will, Argyle, and Mike stood beside Jonathan trying like hell to stand upright as the bachelor party spilled into the midnight hours, Mike, paler than usual and Will, drenched with sweat under the beaming lights of the church. Argyle was the only one smiling through the entire ceremony, moving his head to the rhythm of the organ.

Karen had wept and gathered you into a tight hug for helping style the bridal party’s hair that morning, and for being such a wonderful roommate to Nancy. Ted checked his watch every half hour, and kept an eye on the punch which seemingly looked to get darker and darker throughout the night.

Joyce and Hopper held each other close and danced slow to every song played. Their undying love for one another evident on their faces.

A very drunk Murray Bauman hollered obscenities behind the bar, obviously taking advantage of the open bar night as he mixed drinks for the Wheeler and Byer wedding guests, heavy on the liquor. It wasn’t until grandma Wheeler grabbed the mic and started singing Frank Sinatra that someone caught on to Murray’s antics.

You had danced and laughed along with your high school classmates all night, spilling champagne and beer onto the community center floor, the bottom of

Nancy’s dress turned an ugly smoke gray. It was a perfect summer wedding, one that all of Hawkins would be talking about for years to come.

Nancy stretched her back and twisted her neck to look at you, blue eyes peering over round colored lenses, “Yes, I can’t wait to dip my toes in the ocean,” she says beaming, “we’ve been going to the pool pretty often these last few weeks trying to tan Jonathan a little bit so he doesn’t burn like a piece of bread in Cancun.”

A giggle bubbles on her lips as you laugh along with her. “Any luck on finding a roommate?”

You had been dreading this conversation. Originally you had hoped that Erica Sinclair or even Max would maybe want to be your roommate. Sadly they were both either starting college or finishing up their degree this year—Lucas turned down a full ride basketball scholarship to be with Max. Even the boys had places to go. Dustin and Suzy were finishing their summer internships and moving in together—he had plans on proposing after summer’s end. Will lived in Indianapolis, he became a teacher’s aid after finishing his Bachelor’s in Fine Arts, hoping to one day become a professor. Mike and El lived in Hopper’s cabin, tucked deep in the woods. Celebrating being together for almost 10 years. It was quite literally just you— single, and desperate for a roommate.

“Yeah— I uhh— they moved in last night actually,” you said through a wall of smoke nonchalantly. Lighting another cigarette to power through this conversation.

Nancy is picking at her cuticles and flipping through Cosmo as she asks who answered the ad.

A nervous laugh surpasses your lips, “Eddie,” you say in almost a question.

Nancy stops moving entirely. The ash from her cigarette threatening it’s length. She shakes her head and corrects herself, “Sorry, I think I had a stroke… did you say Eddie? As in Eddie Munson?”

You throw your arm over your eyes and slip further into the chair, hoping it would swallow you whole. A groan escapes your lips followed by your confirmation.

“There was no one else! Everyone is off at school, or getting engaged— he was the only one to show up and look at the house! Plus he forked out more cash than I had originally been asking for so obviously he can afford the rent.”

“Probably drug money,” Nancy coughed.

“Honestly I don’t care if he robbed a bank, the money is there and right now—” the threat of what your life could become stings like a wasp in your brain, red ink showing final notice, light switches not working due to the electricity being shut off, before Eddie moved in— you were well on your way to that lifestyle. “that is what matters.”

Nancy huffs in disagreement, taking a breath to settle her nerves. “I don’t know him personally— but just be careful. Wait, wasn’t he friends with—”

“Yup.” You quip, tight lipped and short, “Robin and Steve know him too.”

“That's what I had thought, well at least he’s not like, a total stranger then.”

Nancy listens intently to the horrors of the past 24 hours at the house she once lived in. Twisting her wedding ring around her small fingers, she had never been more thankful to be married.

-

The work day ended later than you had hoped, a last minute client showed up begging for a “quick perm” — as if there were such a thing. You waved goodbye as you reminded her of the strict no washing policy when it came to maintaining her curls in place. You sweep the floor in a rush and place your combs and scissors in the blue barbicide. Putting away the perm rods and wiping down the surfaces. Switching over the laundry so at least the towels would be dry by the time you opened on Monday morning.

You were tired and your back felt a little stiff. You shut off the radio, still humming Material Girl, to yourself as you turned off the lights and locked the door.

The drive home was short, your small Ford escort a blur through the streets of Hawkins. You could hear your bed calling you, maybe you’d make yourself a grilled cheese and do some laundry so you wouldn’t have to do it tomorrow. But when you pulled into your driveway you realized you wouldn’t be relaxing at all tonight.

The garage door was pulled open, a makeshift banner with red and black spray painted letters on it spelled out “Corroded Coffin”, a better glance at it and you could see it was the same pattern as your spare bed sheets that you kept in the linen closet. The garbage cans were moved out of the way and tossed into the front yard. Cords from amps and a microphone were plugged into every outlet your small garage could offer. A drum set was in the back beside the shelf that held old paint cans full of lead. The floppy blond haired idiot slammed a Busch Light as he twirled a drumstick in his hand. Two members of the band were head banging along to the guitar solo that Eddie was plucking away at. His fingers moved fluidly over the fretboard. Years of practice evident in the dexterity of his hands. The muscles in his arms tight and flexed, veins protruding around them. There were beer cans scattered all around them. Another dirty thirty, no doubt. Fries were spilling out of empty fast food bags and greasy burger wrappers were littering the ground. The push mower was laying on its side, in the middle of the driveway. The rake snapped in half.

The slam of your car door goes unheard.

The unhinged quirk of your jaw starts to ache as you clench your teeth, stomping towards the garage band. The guitar solo ends just as you get to the garage. They’re all hollering and cheering as Eddie whips his head back, long sweaty strands of his curls whipping around as he tries to catch his breath. Holding the beer at arms length, he pours it into his mouth, light amber colored lager flowing down his chin and the expanse of his neck.

“Fuckin’ told you Jeff,” Eddie says, throwing the beer to the ground at the other guitarists feet, “don’t matter if its been five or fifteen years— I can still play that Master of Puppets solo.” A smug smile spreads across his mouth as he pulls a joint from his back pocket, and lights it between lips.

Jeff swings his guitar off his neck and places it on one of the amps, “yeah, yeah whatever man— you gonna share that or just keep gloating?”

You are standing on the driveway, hands on your hips, weight balancing on one leg, the other straight out, foot tapping in annoyance, waiting for the band of rejects to notice your throat clearing.

“Tooty!” They all yell in unison.

Your expression doesn’t fade. Jaw unhinged, lips pressed together tightly. The icy cold of your stare burrowing into Eddie’s beer and sweat soaked skin, a hazy film around him as he exhales the joint.

“Aww, sweetheart, what’s the matter?” He says with fake concern, a smirk curled on his lips, “you mad you missed the jam sesh?” Eddie croons, the tip of the joint goes red as he inhales again and passes it to Jeff, “don’t worry we do this every other night I’m sure you’ll catch the next one.”

The garage fills with echoing drunk laughs and the asshole on the drums hits a ba dum tss. Causing Eddie to choke on his exhale and start a coughing fit. He’s doubled over laughing as he forces the smoke from his lungs.

“Not here you’re not.”

He looks from you to the guys, all four dumbstruck by your words.

“Please tell me, Tooty, why I, a paying resident of this house,” he says, gesturing wildly around him, taking long legged steps towards you, head dipping and turning to catch your gaze, “am not ‘allowed’ to practice with my band, in a garage that we share?”

He’s lowering his head down to you, the ends of his sweaty curls licking your cheeks as he closes the gap between you, rubbing a hand across his chin, that same smirk on his face as always.

“Hmm?”

You let out an exhausted sigh. After a long day at work the only thing you had wanted to do was relax— not deal with Eddie’s antics.

“I’m not going to entertain your little half-witted dreams from middle school on being the next Kirk Hammett— find somewhere else to play rockstar, and get this shit out of here.”

You shove past him and the band as you stomp through the door leading into the kitchen, hanging up your keys. A quick look around made your head spin.

The house looked worse now than it did when you left for work. Dishes piled along each surface on the counters and into the sink, the microwave was open with what looked like the remnants of a spaghetti-o explosion, a beer can pyramid was starting in the living room. A burnt aluminum pan of jiffy pop sat on the stove, charred on the bottom. The trash bag suitcases Eddie had packed his belongings with, were now thrown in between his room and the hallway.

You were fed up with this bullshit, it had been 24 hours and he was already on your last nerve. Dragging both hands down your face in sheer fatigue, you grab a roll of trash bags from under the sink. Walking heavy footed back to the door, making as much noise as possible, you fling open the door, four pairs of wide eyes stare you down as you shake open the garbage bag.

“Here, let me help you because apparently you don’t have any common fucking sense.” You stomp over to Eddie and rip another bag free from the roll and toss it to him.

In the best condescending tone you can muster you explain, “This, is a garbage bag. Oooh, ahhh. Cool right? See? When you are done with something and it’s empty,” you educate the gaggle of degenerates, “you pick it up, and throw it away! Wow.” You demonstrate for them, picking up an empty can of beer and placing it in the bag.

“See how easy that is? Now,” you say turning towards Eddie your eyes lost of any endearment, “Do you think you big boys could handle that? Or do you need written instructions?”

A scoff is heard from behind you, as it’s now your turn to smirk, stomping back up the steps and into the kitchen, slamming the door hard behind you.

-

Huffing and puffing, you know that the house will never get clean if you don’t do it yourself. You change into a faded Hawkins High shirt and a pair of old worn cotton shorts with paint smears on the hips from when you and Nancy tackled painting the living room last summer, as you set to work on the kitchen. Pulling on a pair of rubber yellow gloves, you make work on cleaning the mess Eddie had made. The soft hum of your kitchen radio plays as Pearl Jam invades the background. You first fill the sink with the hottest water the faucet allowed, dousing the dishes with dish soap. You’re carrying around the garbage can, picking up empty beer cans, cigarette butts, and the charcoal mess of black popcorn on the the stove.

You don’t hear him enter the kitchen, your mind far away to another time, when Nancy lived with you and the only problem she caused was paying rent a week early. He advances towards you and stops in front of you, nostrils flaring as he takes a deep breath.

“What’s your fuckin’ problem? You can be a bitch to me all you want, but the guys don’t deserve that.”

You set the garbage can down by your feet, a rubber glove shoved into his chest, “If you think I give a fuck about what they deserve, you are sadly mistaken! I deserve to not have my house completely trashed every time I turn my back!”

“I didn’t know I was living in a fucking convent, Sister Tooty.” Eddie argues, proud of his comeback he leans against the counter, arms folded across his chest, “that why you never get laid?”

You roll your eyes, “fucking yourself with a beer can taped to your hand isn’t exactly getting laid, Munson. But keep it up, you won’t be living here for long if you keep acting like a fucking pig!”

“Again, with your empty threats, sweetheart. Isn’t it tiring being so mad all the time— careful, looks Iike you’re already getting wrinkles.” A throaty laugh escapes his mouth and he sweeps his thumb between your eyebrows, trying to joke around and diffuse the tension growing between you both.

You swat your hands at him and pull away, a look of disgust and frustration planted on your face.

“Jesus,” he says irritated, “Harrington told me that your family moved away— didn’t know it was because you’re such a stone-cold bitch.”

Without even thinking, you shove him hard in the chest. He goes crashing backwards, the rest of the cluttered items on the counter cascade to the floor with loud thuds. Your cheeks are heated, and your eyes glisten with tears, but you won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing them fall. You look at your socked feet and back up to him. Your lip quivering, head held high.

His expression is stunned, not angry like you thought he would be. A look of worry washes over his face as he realizes he crossed the line. Anger ran its course as he recognizes that he hurt you.

“Ah fuck,” he breathes, putting his head down and shaking his long mane. He looks back up to your face, still steady, not daring to let those traitorous tears fall.

“Tooty, I’m— I’m sorry.”

You pluck off your rubber gloves and toss them to the counter, making a dash to the bathroom and locking the door. Eddie doesn’t hear your crying, drowned out from the shower head as he starts to clean up his mess.

vol iii

—

A/N: thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed! If your name is crossed out on the Taglist it means your settings are more than likely set to private and you’re not allowed to be tagged!

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#eddie x fem!reader #eddie x y/n #Eddie x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x f!reader #roommate!eddie #roommate!eddie munson

[ghost-proofbaby]

OH SAY LESS 14 WITH ASTARION PLEASE

so this is my first time publicly writing and posting astarion, so please be gentle. higher word count solely because i felt the need to add lore because, ya know, first time writing him! also, i changed the line just a tiny bit to better fit the character and scene. ALSO, uh... this is a little fade to black. i'm sorry. it just got too long.

14. "Oh, you're hard to please."

warnings: foreplay, sorta fade to black smut (it's there if you squint your eyes), an ungodly amount of pet names, mentions of past sexual abuse and healing from it, technical game spoilers, not edited, 18+ so minors do not interact

pairings: astarion x afab!reader (no pronouns used)

wc: 4.4k+

join the smutty party! send me one of these smut dialogue prompts with a character

How long had it been since Astarion had actually enjoyed sex? Craved it, even? 

If he recalls correctly, it had to have started to become tainted well over a century ago. Somewhere between the first and the third victim, when he’d realized how every single beautiful soul he had entrapped were simply being lured to their own death. And then, the sour taste left in his mouth only became more pungent the longer it went on, the more he came to the realization of just how used he felt. His body was no longer his own – it technically hadn’t been his from the very second he’d emerged from his own grave, and Cazador had been waiting for him – and everything about the act became an old rehearsed dance that he’d grit his teeth through. A chore, something to make his stomach churn, something to regret. A means to an end. 

Plainly put, it had been a while. 

But then you happened. You, who hadn’t blinked an eye when the first time you met him, he’d literally threatened you with a gods damned blade to your throat. You, who had repeatedly trusted him, even when it had been an objectively stupid thing to do. You, who had always offered him the utmost patience and genuine understanding, to the point in which if he thought about it too hard, he’d probably cry. You, who had led your group of misfits with brain worms right into victory, with plenty of personal demons defeated along the way. 

Personal demons including Cazador. 

Maybe that’s when things changed for Astarion. He’d already fallen for you before your group had reached Baldur’s Gate, he’d already gotten to know your body intimately before ever laying eyes on that ridiculously oversized brain you somehow made look easy to defeat. But that had been different, hadn’t it? He hadn’t really wanted to do that (not meant as an offense to you – certainly not after all was said and done), but had thought he needed to. To gain your trust, to gain your protection. And in the end, it turned out he never needed to do such a thing. You’d never said it outloud, probably at risk of making him feel even more regret after you’d learned all his secrets and darkest corners, but he knew. 

And knowing that you didn’t view him as something purely sexual, as a means to an end, as an item to use – well, it had the opposite effect of his request to no longer be viewed in that light. 

“What are you doing?” he says as he quickly looks up from his current book he’d been pursuing the moment you’d entered the room. He hardly cared for the words on the page – he just needed a way to pass the hours until you were available again. 

It was a hard habit to kick. Being so codependent on you, even with the end of the world resolved and the gift of safety being handed over to him on a silver platter. 

“We received mail,” you’re grinning wickedly as you hold up an embellished envelope, delicate fingers pinching the parchment as if it were the greatest gift to ever exist. He’d argue the real gift at hand was the last three months – time spent with you, in a place he can call home. But nothing could impede on your good mood as you throw yourself down on the mattress beside him, “From Withers, of all people!” 

His brows shoot up for just a moment before his face twists up with something akin to distrust, “Withers? What in the Hells does that sack of dust and bones wan-” 

“A reunion,” you cut him off, the look on your face warning enough against his attempt at an insult. “He’s reaching out to all of us to bring us together for a celebration, to check in on everyone, let us see each other again. Apparently, we were the easiest of the bunch to find.”

Astarion quickly lets out a tut as he snaps the book shut and discards it on the bedside table closest to him, “Well, we certainly need to fix that. Soon enough all of those little shits are going to end up on our doorstep, preaching about the power of friendship and how they want to check in on us.” 

You snort at that, laying flat on your back with your hair wildly spread out in a makeshift halo behind you. The sight causes something to stir within him, his gut twisting as he watches the way your knees knock together before slowly falling apart, your legs settling down as flat as the rest of your body.

He hadn’t taken you since that night at his grave. Before the epic final battle, before the two of you had made the decision to settle down somewhere for some well-earned peace and quiet. 

The moonlight dances past the open curtains, and his breath catches in his throat at the way the blue shadows dance across your skin. It almost reminds him of the first time he’d seen you fight. It hadn’t just been the blood splattered across your cheeks that had really gotten the better of his curiosity (even if that’s what he had told you when you asked), it had been the sunlight. Those rays of gold that had mingled with your own aura of warmth after you had helped the tieflings for the first time. 

You put the sun to shame, truly. And he missed it – Gods, did he miss it – but he was content to bask in the peace of night for a few months more before he finally cut you loose from the leash to begin your next phase of adventures to find him a cure. You had promised him you would, had already dedicated plenty of free time to research, and all you really needed was his word to begin. 

He’s selfish. The two of you can find a way for him to walk in the sun once more another day; all he wants right now is to bury himself in your warmth, to slot his body between your thighs, to hear every breathy gasp and the way you’d practically sing his name-

“Star?” you’re looking up at him from an awkward angle, eyes owlish and chin tilted painfully far back as you clearly await an answer to a question he’d been too lost in a daydream to overhear, “Did you hear me?” 

He clears his throat and adjusts the pillows behind his back, keeping him propped up as he admires you, “Of course I did, darling.” 

“Then what did I just say?”

“Something about how we’re absolutely not going to this reunion, yes?” 

Your smile is nothing but patient as you flip onto your stomach. He watches the way your shorts ride up your thighs, how the top of the soft fabric bunches at your waist. His fingers practically twitch with the need to weasel their way under it, to press his cold fingertips into warm flesh and hear you preen. 

Whenever you’re ready, you had whispered to him one night shortly after saving the world. Just tell me when, and I’m yours. 

He was ready. Insatiably ready, really. 

“Very funny. I said we should go, though. It’d be nice to see everyone again, wouldn’t it? All our friends?” 

You’re still talking about this damned reunion. Astarion has half the mind to figure out a way to summon the insufferable skeleton right here, right now, and drive a dagger into his bones until he’s truly nothing but dust. Solely for the distraction. 

“Your friends, my dear,” he corrects gently, “We both know they’re only overly fond of one of us in this relationship, and it certainly isn’t the one that they repeatedly threatened to stake.” 

The furrow of your brows is impossibly cute – he knows that look of determination. It’s the same one you wore when he mentioned it was likely that the two of you would never find a cure to his condition. 

“Our friends,” you insist, “Karlach adores you, Star. And Wyll has always been proud of you, whether he told you as much or not.”

“And what of Gale?” 

Your lips twitch at that, “Gale… certainly wouldn’t stake you on sight.”

“Ah, yes,” he flourishes, trying to keep his eyes from wandering anywhere but where your hands press into your cheeks as you prop your face up to speak to him, “Not staking me. The ultimate sign of kinship.” 

Focusing is a losing battle when you roll your eyes, and he finds his mind overtaken with insatiable lust again. Imaginative ways that he could have your eyes rolling for him under different circumstances. 

“You’re not getting out of this. They are your friends just as well as mine – so argue all you want, but we’re going to the reunion.” 

“Are you sure there’s no other way I might be able to…” he pauses with intent, finally lifting one of his docile hands to your cheek, letting his finger graze the skin with a feather light touch before it travels back into the mess of your hair, “Persuade you otherwise?” 

You almost fall for it, too. Your eyes flutter shut, your head tilts into his touch as if you were starved for the connection. But even with the lack of sexual intimacy, you both know there hasn’t been a day that has gone by in the last three months where Astarion hasn’t found a way to get his hands on you.

Holding your own, resting his cheek on your shoulder, spinning you like a child in the kitchen – he had quite the sudden arsenal of romantic gestures that didn’t involve old wounds. It had been awkward here and there, some of them landing and some of them leaving you both looking like fools, but he was trying.

Almost as hard as he was currently trying to not jump your bones. 

When you recognize the innuendo for what it is, however, you harden immediately. Your shoulders set, a frown settles, and your eyes open with set determination he knows he can’t falter without speaking plainly to you. 

“No.”

“No?”

You’re quick to lift yourself up onto your knees, putting distance between yourself and his hands, “The days of weaponizing sex are over. I don’t even want to joke about that.” 

And, oh, he’s finding himself in quite the mood tonight, because as soon as you’re retracting, he’s following. As you settle on the haunches of your calves, he’s lifting up from his reclined position, leaning forward so that his face is breaths away from yours. 

“I mean it,” you warn, narrowing your eyes and holding up a finger in that small space between you two. 

He tests his luck, wasting no time in snapping his fangs just millimeters from your skin. You both know he wouldn’t actually bite you, but it still humors him to see the way you whip your hand out of his reach. 

“Were you not the one who insisted that we ask before we bite?” you snap, and his smile only worsens. Like a cheshire cat, like a child never scorned by the world – he’s radiant and basking in the moment. 

He lets out a small hmph before saying, “You’re no fun, my dear. Come on – just play with me for a moment, won’t you?” 

Your face softens at his teasing tone, and he can see the way he’s withering away your defenses one by one. There was once a time where he’d done it with malicious intent, but this time around, it’s with nothing but good intentions. 

If you asked him, he’d go as far as to swear it on his own grave. 

“I’m sorry,” you apologize as if you’d done something wrong, and it makes more than half of his own playfulness drain from his face in absolute displeasure. Before he can so much as open his mouth to scold you about unnecessary apologies, you’re continuing on, “I just… After everything we’ve been through, it’s not something I find particularly joyous to joke about.”

What a rare thing, to have found someone to bare your soul and all your burdens to, and watch them offer to help you shoulder the weight without second thought or regret. 

He’s never met someone like you in all his years, and he might never again. 

“And if I told you I wasn’t joking?” he asks slowly, carefully, trying to choose each word with the utmost care, “I’m not weaponizing – I’m offering.” 

Whenever you’re ready. Just tell me when, and I’m yours.

He was ready. Very, desperately, sorely ready. 

The topic of the reunion is all but forgotten as you process his words, nose twitching as you decipher all that’s he laying out before you. “I want more than an offer.” 

“Excuse me?” 

He can’t help the small laugh that leaves him as he sits up properly, leaning into your space fully now with one hand pressing into the mattress just beside one of your thighs. He can feel the heat radiating from you, smell your blood rushing to your head as you try to be sensible. It’s a pitiful excuse for an internal war; all he has to do is close that conveniently small distance between your lips with his own, and you’ll have lost all sense of logic. 

“You’re…” you trail off, searching his eyes as if he holds the answer you’re currently looking for, “You’re sacred to me, Astarion. You must know that. And it will take much more than some joking offer to convince me to have sex with you when I know-”

“I’m not joking,” he’s nearly whining, letting his forehead fall forward to press to yours, “Gods, I am not joking about this. Cross my heart and hope to die again.” 

If he has to beg, he will. 

He’s spent two hundred years in an insufferable position of pure misery, pure shit, and the realization that he’s finally free has everything clicking into place. Proof of the change exists solely in the fact that he could have resorted to his tired old seduction routine from his life before to get what he wanted, but instead, he’s trying to just communicate. 

It was a novel moment. 

But he could appreciate it later, when the crotch of his pants wasn’t becoming increasingly uncomfortably tight and he wasn’t watching you closer than prey. When his stomach wasn’t so tight with desire and anticipation, just waiting for your word to indulge. 

“Do I need to beg?” he sighs, his lips brushing against yours ever so slightly from proximity. He catches the shiver that runs up your spine. “We both know I’m not particularly fond of it, but if I have to get on my knees for you- well, actually, that’s the entire point of what I’m asking.” 

You laugh at that, and his gut twists again, because it’s the most beautiful sound he’s ever had the opportunity to hear. Something more breath than any vocality, something sharp and spelling out the loss of words on your tongue. 

Your silence is enough for him to push it all a step further. Forehead still leaning against yours, he properly presses his lips to yours this time, slotting them between softer than a feather’s caress. Finding home as he can physically feel himself steal your breath away. His fangs just barely nip your bottom lip, unintentionally but still eliciting a delicious reaction of a gasp that makes him graze you a second time just to feel the way you’re leaning into him more, becoming absolute putty in his hands. Pliable for his taking, and Gods, he wants to take you. 

Something snaps. 

All hesitation has vanished as he grabs at your hips quickly, making use of the way your brain has gone blank from a simple kiss in order to lay you out below him. He moves you with ease, incredible speed in slotting himself between your legs before he’s caging your entire body in with his own. The squeak that leaves your lips from his manhandling affects him even more than your gasps had, a low growl shaking his chest as he kisses you deeper. Tasting, begging, searching – he wants this, but he needs to know that you want this just as badly. 

Your hands find purchase on each of his shoulders, squeezing tightly as if needing something to tether yourself to. You pull him in closer for a second, eagerly returning the kiss, almost feverish in the way you drink him in. But the next, you’re pushing him away, a game of want and sensibility still clouding your judgment impossibly. 

You always were stubborn about things like morals. And, well, it wasn’t very moral to just jump right into sex with your traumatized boyfriend who had explicitly said not to view him in terms of sex, was it? 

It was Astarion’s own damn fault. 

He could have just acted like a normal person, initiated a normal conversation in which he renegotiated his boundaries. But you’ve been on his mind all day, and he’s long since proven since the very day that you met him that he has little to none impulse control. 

“My, my,” he murmurs, pulling back from the kiss, eyes wild, looking at you with even more hunger than he had the first night you’d given him a taste of your blood in camp, “You’re just an impossible thing to please, aren’t you? Do you want me near, do you want me far? Tell me, my love, what do you want?” 

He settles all his weight onto one of his forearms as the other slowly brings his hand to your side, caressing over the soft fabric of your shirt – a shirt he’s quickly realizing is actually his own. He recognizes those flowy sleeves, that lacing across the chest, the off-white tone that had seen better days. Given all its wear and tear, he’s almost sure that it’s one of his shirts he had grown most comfortable wearing during the nights of your adventures against the Netherbrain. 

It’s cute. A sort of domesticity that he can ponder over later, when your legs aren’t hanging on his hips and your breaths aren’t coming out staccato as he hovers just out of reach from you. 

“I want whatever you want,” you whisper. Your eyes flutter open, looking at him with pupils so dilated they could swallow him whole. 

“Let me be very clear, then,” he hums, cold fingers creeping their way to the hem of the shirt, slipping beneath with practiced ease to find the smooth skin of your hips below. They dance and skitter up, up, up until he’s brushing against your ribs, “I want you. I want that warm cunt of yours, I want to feel every gasp and breath as your walls squeeze around me. I want to fuck you until you’re unable to walk on your own two legs, until you can only remember my name. I want to watch you come undone, my dear, and for it to be my own undoing.”

Your lips quiver in anticipation, and he feels your thighs tighten their hold on him, “Such pretty words. And… and no ulterior motives? No sense of obligation?” 

“None at all,” he smiles, a predator closing in on his prey, “I’m choosing this. If you want it, if you’ll have me, then I’m ready, pet.” 

Pet. The nickname rolls off his tongue, and he can imagine your walls fluttering just as your eyes do. 

Your hands lift from his shoulders to bury in his hair instead. One cradling the back of his head, the other resting on the nape of his neck as you toy with a snowy curl. It unfurls him further, has him humming lowly as he dips down to recapture your lips and bring you into him even closer. Closer. He needs all and any space between the two of you to become nonexistent. To feel every inch of your skin pressed to his, to allow you to physically curl up into his chest just as you had his mind all those moons ago, to make a home in a room with your name on it already somewhere between his third and fourth rib. 

“Do you really have to doubt if I’ll have you, my love?” you mutter against his mouth, smile breaking the kiss momentarily before he’s back with a vengeance. You don’t care – you’re apparently in a chatty mood, dodging his kiss to get your last words in, “There’s been a space in my heart for you since the moment I first met yo-”

“Yes, yes, very romantic,” he interrupts urgently, suddenly tugging your shirt up, “But, truth be told, love? I’m hoping there’s a space between your legs for me at this moment.” 

You snort, eyes pinched shut as you attempt to shake your head at the ridiculousness of the words that just left his mouth. At any other moment, you might point out how the outrageous comment is just another defense mechanism, veering him away from having to acknowledge the gentle sentiment behind your own words, but now’s not the time. When you open your mouth, probably to say something exactly along those lines, he rolls his hips down against yours, pinning your lower half deep into the mattress. You feel just how hard he is through his trousers – it’s impossible to miss, but he’s deliberating being sure that you feel it as he lets the tips of his fangs sink into your bottom lip. 

The resolve of fighting against his wishes is quickly dissolved. One thing after another, and Astarion has you bare beneath him before any other distractions or annoying conversation can send the two of you further off track. Your, his, shirt is tossed to one side of the room. Your parents fly to the other side of the bed. Only once he has the entire spanse of your body nude and vulnerable to him does he take the time to pause, to look down at you with absolute adoration. 

“Gods, you’re beautiful.” 

He’s said those words to you a million times before. Consistently greeting you with them, muttering them in the dead of night, whispering them as he kisses you awake. But they never lose their weight. And certainly not now, as he’s looking down at you like it’s the first time he’s ever seen that freckle on your chest or the curve of your stomach barren before him. 

“Please, if you’re comfortable with it…” you start, voice laced with desperation, but he shakes his head. 

He’s full of interruptions tonight, “Consider me comfortable with anything unless stated otherwise for this moment, my sweet.” 

“Take off your clothes, Astarion.”

His giddy smile should annoy you. That smug satisfaction in finally, finally getting his way as he undresses himself at almost twice the speed that he had stripped you. And yet he knows you’re enjoying yourself just as much as he is. You’re reveling in drinking in the bare caricatures of his body, every inch and every curve exposed to you just as you are to him. And when his cool skin meets yours again, his body sinking right into that space between your thighs that you’ve granted to him, you let out a short gasp that reminds him that you want this just as badly as he does.

You’ve waited just as long as he has. 

It almost mirrors that night on his grave. The slow descent of his body against yours, the way he slides a leg up to spread your own even further for him as he crawls his way back home to your lips. Unlike that night, however, he isn’t taking quite as much care, his movements far faster and far more needy. 

He’s been waiting long enough. He’s denied himself long enough. 

It really doesn’t matter when the last time he had enjoyed sex had been, because all that he cares about is that here and now, in this moment with you, there’s not a trace of imperfections to taint his enjoyment. 

Cazador is dead. The brain has long since been defeated. You are both safe. 

As he sinks into your heat, the only thing on his mind is that contentment, overwhelmed with the feel and smell of just you. 

He’ll never be a slave again. Never be viewed as something to simply be used and disregarded again, if you have any say. And one day, some day, he’ll even feel the warmth of the sun again. Thanks to you.

But until that day, the warmth of your love is enough.

When you sigh his name out so delicately, jaw all but unhinging itself in bliss as your back arches in reaction to his touches, he knows he’s made the right choice. 

And he supposes he lied, in a way, earlier. 

You’re not that hard to please – not when it comes to him, at least. Not when it’s his hands trailing along your skin, not when it’s his lips and fangs nipping at every opportunity. And certainly not when it’s his name that’s being chanted like a prayer from your lips in time with every thrust, every stroke, every single movement with the sole purpose of making both of you come undone. 

Astarion no longer questions when the last time he enjoyed sex was in the aftermath of it all. With you, pressed into his side, sweaty forehead nuzzling his chest, the only thing he cares about is the next time he’ll be able to do so. 

“We’re still going to that reunion,” you murmur, half asleep, fading away from him quickly to fall into blissful unconsciousness. 

He almost doesn’t breathe in fear of disturbing you. He’ll waste the night away, laying here, still as a statue for your comfort. 

It’s no surprise when he refuses to put up a fight, instead his hand simply drawing soft stars across the back of your bare shoulder blades as he sighs, “Yes, dear. We will. Now sleep.”

“I love you.” 

The words tumble from your lips so carelessly, so easily and without hesitation, he nearly shakes you awake to hear them once more. Again and again, he needs to hear them, to be reassured that you feel for him as ardently as he does you. 

But he has the rest of your forever to hear them. So he lets you sleep, sending you away with a simple press of his lips to your temples as your breathing evens.

“And I love you, my dearest sun.”

#ghost's stories #smutty party #astarion #astarion x reader #astarion smut #astarion x you #my writing #there's a line in here that my best friend watched me write in real time IN PERSON that we both cackled about #i went 'i really shouldn't include it' and she went 'but it's HIM' #it's giving 'i'd rather be the only dark power inside you' #idk if this is good but it is what it is ya know #if the ending feels rushed it's because i felt terrible for how long it was getting lol #i just wanna love on the boy #i just wanna love him and he love me is that too much to ask #so many pet names i considered editing but the voices won

[tsunami-of-tears]

Love Drunk

Poly+ ACOTAR Week 2024 - Day 3 (Secrets)

Cazriel x Healer Reader

Summary: Feelings are growing between Azriel, Y/N and Cassian. The only people who can’t see it are them.

Pairing Masterlist

A/N: This part is dedicated to @daycourtofficial because of our shared love for aphrodisiacs ❤️ I think this fic takes the cake for being my most unhinged.

Wordcount: 1.7K

Warnings: aphrodisiacs; sexual themes; very angsty; everyone is so clueless.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･

After her rescue, Y/N quickly became a vital part of the Inner Circle and she had grown quite fond of her new friends. Especially Cassian and Azriel.

Both males were equally as smitten with Y/N, often bickering about who would get to carry her while flying and racing to sit beside her at family dinners. They only stopped injuring themselves after Rhys gave them some stern words. 

These affections had not gone unnoticed by the rest of the group. Everyone had clued into the growing feelings between Azriel, Y/N, and Cassian. Everyone except them of course. 

Though the males fought over her, they were both content enough with their friendship and didn’t want to ruin that. 

While Y/N enjoyed the flirtations and the distraction this offered, she didn’t allow herself time to dwell on her feelings. Instead, she opted to keep as busy as possible, in an attempt to fill the empty hole inside her. 

She could mend a broken bone in her sleep, but a broken soul… That was something she hadn’t quite figured out for herself. 

————

Months had passed, and everyone was getting increasingly frustrated with their friends. No amount of pep talks was making a difference. No one would make that first move.

So, the Inner Circle was bracing themselves for another evening of watching Azriel, Y/N and Cassian tiptoeing around the obvious. It was another typical family dinner since Y/N’s arrival, except it wasn’t.

“They look delicious, Elain,” Y/N gushes, slightly tipsy from the faewine. “Oh look! Mine is yellow. How did you know my favourite colour?” Y/N grabs the plate as Elain passes it to her and takes a bite. “Gods, you’re an incredible baker, Elain.”

Both Cassian and Azriel nod, agreeing with Y/N as they tuck into their cakes. 

Slowly, their expressions start to soften and their eyes start to glaze over. 

Y/N hiccups and starts to giggle uncontrollably.

“What’s so funny?” Elain asks.

Y/N pauses, considering. “I’m not sure,” she says before bursting into another fit of giggles. 

She doubles over, clutching her stomach. “I think— we’ve— been drugged,” she says breathily, trying and failing to regain control. 

Azriel and Cassian’s eyes meet and they too burst out laughing.

Wiping tears from her eyes, Y/N leans back, rolling off the lounge and onto the floor  

Running a hand through his hair, “Cauldron spare me, you guys go, I’ll look after them for now,” Rhys sighs.

Mor pats Rhys on the back. “Are you sure you don’t want backup?” she asks. 

Rhys waves a hand dismissively. “I’ll be fine.”

The rest of the Inner Circle leave swiftly. Rhys pours another glass of wine and takes a seat at the dining table, preparing himself for a long night of babysitting his friends.

————

Reader

Bliss. 

That’s what you felt. 

Every cell in your body feels so light. Like you’re made of air, floating through space. 

It’s so peaceful. 

Your vision is slightly blurred, like a fog has settled in the room, curling around you. And yet, despite the haze - your head feels clear. 

You know what you want. 

You look at the two males before you. Gods. How did they get more beautiful? Your eyes flit between them, soaking in every detail. 

You lean forwards, to where they are sprawled on the floor in front of the lounge, empty glasses discarded beside them. 

You reach your hand out, meeting the force pulling you towards them, feeling the deep urge to— touch. 

Your fingers gently graze Cassian’s cheek. He turns to look at you, hazel eyes drinking in your entire being. 

“So beautiful,” you whisper, unable to hold the words back. You turn to Azriel, “Isn’t he?”

Azriel just nods, all words lost to him as he takes in your face. His expression is hungry. As if he could devour you whole. 

You inhale, and their scent hits you. 

Pure, unadulterated lust.

You exhale slowly as desire grows between your thighs. You know they can smell it on you, too. 

The Illyrians look at each other, predatory smirks on both their faces. They turn back to you, moving as one. Cassian licks his lips and Azriel moves forward, placing a hand on your knee.

The heat from his palm radiates up your leg and your core throbs. Your heart pounds in your ears, your breath quickens and you start to give in to the raw need swelling inside you. 

Your eyes go straight between Azriel’s legs, and the growing bulge. Your mouth goes dry and you let out an involuntary squeak as he trails his hand further up your thigh. Inching closer to your sex. 

Cassian leans forward, his breath hot against your ear. “You smell divine, I wonder if you taste just as good,” he whispers, his hands too light as they tease along your body.

You inhale sharply, heat rushing to your cheeks. You glance down to his crotch, where his hard length strains against his leathers.

“Our sweet girl,” Azriel purrs, “You always take such good care of us. Can we return the favour?”

You let out a soft mewl, shocked by their forwardness tonight, though every part of you yearns for them both. 

“I want you so bad,” Cassian murmurs, “Only if you want it too, angel.”

You resign control of your body over to your lust, the growing ache between your legs becoming too much to bear. 

You nod at the males before you. “Yes, please,” you beg. “I can’t take it any longer.” You stroke Azriel’s cheek and you reach for Cassian’s thigh. They both move closer until their lips make contact with your neck. They leave a trail of passionate kisses down each side. Your head rolls back as you’re overwhelmed by pure desire. 

You feel strong arms beneath you, lifting you off the floor. “Let’s go somewhere more private,” Azriel whispers. You nod, biting your lip and he carries you to his bedroom, with Cassian following close behind. 

————

You can’t recall the last time you slept that well. 

The bed is soft and warm and you’re surrounded by a red glow. The dream you were having slipped away, but left you with the feeling of safety and love. 

As you regain awareness, you realise someone is holding you. Not just one male, but two. And that red glow… That’s the sun is filtering through wings. Illyrian wings. 

They look so beautiful up close. The wings.

The membrane shines in the morning light. With each vein illuminated you can see the intricate paths across the surface, like the many branches that make up a forest.

You reach your hand up to touch one but pause before making contact, recalling what Cassian told you about them being sensitive. 

Cassian lifts his head and looks at you with a sleepy smile. “Good morning,” he says groggily, “What happened?”

From your other side, Azriel stirs slightly in his sleep. You feel his arm tighten around you before retracting completely. He jolts back in the bed as he looks over your bare form. 

You try your best to hide your wince at his movements. You clear your throat before answering Cassian’s question. “I believe we were drugged with a love potion last night, a rather strong one.” 

 “Am I that ugly you need to be under the influence to share my bed?” Cassian teases you.

“Actually… That’s the thing,” you say with a nervous laugh. “Love potions only intensify feelings that already exist.”

“Oh,” Cassian says.

You lay in silence for a few minutes, until Azriel dares to break it. 

“So,” he starts, his voice taking on a nervous edge, “You have feelings for both of us?”

You look at Azriel, and then at Cassian before covering your face with your hands. You groan into your palms, utterly mortified by your predicament. 

Not only did you share a bed with them both, but they were now aware of your feelings - thanks to your big mouth.  

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to put you both in this position.” 

Cassian laughs nervously, “It’s not like it’s the first time we...” he trails off and both males shift awkwardly beside you, unsure what to say. 

You start to fidget with your hands as the anxiety builds and you’re unable to look them in the eye, to see whatever is it they are feeling. “Um, well, I’ve got things to do this morning, I’d better get up,” you say quietly.

Azriel slides out of the bed to let you up without a word. You grab your clothes that were strewn across the room, throwing your dress over your head. 

The tension in the room is palpable, and you wish your friends would say something. Anything to reassure you. 

You pause in the doorway, unsure if you should speak your mind. 

You turn your head towards the two silent males. “I’m really sorry,” you whisper, rushing out of the bedroom.

————

In the privacy of your room, you allow your tears to fall. Your chest heaves as the sobs wrack your body. 

How did I mess this up so badly? I can never look at them again… I’ll have to move courts.

You let yourself cry for a few moments before willing your body to be calm, pushing all your emotions down inside you to get on with your day.

You feel absolutely mortified that your friends now know what’s in your heart. 

The one thing you don’t consider is that both Azriel and Cassian feel the same way. 

————

Rhysand

Rhys swaggers into the kitchen where his family are seated having breakfast. He walks straight to Feyre, giving her a kiss on the cheek and ruffling Nyx’s hair, who is sitting in her lap. 

“Good morning, it seems our little potion worked some magic,” he smirks. 

“How mad do you think they’ll be once they find out?” Elain asks.

“Oh they’ll be thanking us,” Mor says, “Illyrians can be such dumb brutes, they never would’ve gone for Y/N without the push.”

 “Ouch, thanks Mor,” Rhys winks.

“You,” she says pointing at Rhys, “are the dumbest brute of them all!” He responds by sticking his tongue out as Feyre and Elain chuckle.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *

Tags ♡ @littlestw01f @impossibelle @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @the-wall-willow @xasael @lilah-asteria @saltedcoffeescotch @mybestfriendmademe

#poly+acotarweek2024 #poly+acotarweek2024 d3 #poly!acotar #cazriel x reader #acotar #acosf #acotar fanfiction #acotar fic #a court of thorns and roses #acotar oneshot #acomaf

[sinful-lanterns]

Oh my, transfem Serpent!

Gods I want to choke on her cocks, having her hold my hair as she guides me up and down her shift before pulling me away to give the other the same treatment.

You know she would be so fuckin good with ropes too! Just hands tied in such intricate knots, unable to do much but just take everything she give me. Getting pulled and bent however she wants, helpless and all for her.

And then she would be just so good when she tops, just ugh she would be able to ruin me so easily! Like she could fill both holes so well, or since I'm also transfem, just being all full with both her cocks and being stretched so much and just shsuduehehev I'm losing my mind.

Hnnnnn getting stuffed full by Serpent 🤤

I don’t even headcanon her cocks to be that big tbh, but since she has two, it feels like absolute heaven when she thrusts into you and tries to make them fit… I imagine that poor Serpent is just too eager and excited to have someone cute to fit her cocks, that she mightttt go a bit too fast, which would lead to you crying out in overwhelming ecstasy from her thrusts…

P.S: I was very horny while writing this. Please excuse me…

nsfw under the cut (men and minors dni)

Imagine when springtime hits, Serpent gets extra aroused and antsy as springtime is usually the time where animals get ready to mate. She’d be holed up in her room all day, groaning and trying to satisfy her two cocks because although kind of a cool feature to have, two cocks means twice the amount of arousal that she will have to experience, and poor Serpent only has two hands that do a mediocre job of pleasuring her :(

She’d be so hot and burning up, wishing for this heat cycle to go away as all she needed was relief (and someone to satisfy her urge to breed), otherwise she’d be left having an uncomfortable few weeks by herself and nothing she can do will help it.

…Unless. Chief decides Serpent needs some checking up on, so she sends you (one of Serpent’s favorite people ever) to check on Serpent and see if she’s okay. When you reach her cell however, you are immediately pulled in and the hot air pretty much seals your fate as you can smell the arousal from Serpent penetrating the room.

She’s super cuddly with you. Groaning and whining before pushing you down on the bed to trap you there. She’s not doing anything yet, because even in that cloudy haze, she still wants your consent. But from the look in your eyes, she could tell you wanted to help her just as badly as she wanted you. And by the way you were eying her two excited erections, she could tell you were drooling quite a bit at the prospect of “helping her out” just a tiny bit…

Expect to be flipped over on your stomach so Serpent could get a good look at your ass and cunt. The snake woman would be practically salivating at the sight, as she strokes herself while watching you and lubes you up with that long tongue of hers. She can’t wait to make you feel so full, to stretch you beyond your limit as she rubs her two shafts in between your thighs to make you feel what you are about to experience.

Serpent isn’t cruel by any means, so she goes slow when she first pushes into you. She isn’t big, but because there are two of her size, it feels very unique to have her penetrating you twice all at the same time. It’s practically double the girth that your pussy and ass (or just pussy if Serpent is feeling bold) are experiencing, and the moment you let out a small moan, Serpent picks it up and begins to instinctively thrust.

Her body would just move on it’s own, keen on breeding the beautiful woman in front of her, and Serpent would practically be quivering at the thought. So much so that she’d latch onto you to keep you trapped underneath her body, despite being a rather petite woman…

Needless to say, you aren’t leaving her bed anytime soon. Or rather… “nest” as Serpent likes to call it, due to the fact she wants you to bear her offspring sooner or later… 💕

…sorry. I have a breeding kink.

#⛓️ mbcc lovepost #path to nowhere #serpent smut #ptn serpent smut #serpent x reader #ptn serpent x reader #ptn #ptn x reader #path to nowhere smut #ptn smut

[urfavlarry]

Your Overlord! Husk is just so 🫠 So I HAD to request something for him!

Reader works at the Casino. She is Husk's favorite waitress (maybe because she is his gf idk 👀) and deals with rude costumers more often than she'd like. During one of those situations, they corner her for trying to "stick her nose in somebody else's business". Overlord! Husk deals with them before they have the chance to do anything. After the situation is taken care of, he steals her away to dote on her <3

This is the (slightly modified) piece of dialogue that inspired my request. Feel free to use it, if you want!

Reader, backing up: "Gentlemen, gentlemen. Let's be civil about this. Let's make a deal; you leave, and you don't die a second time. How does that sound?"

Sinner: "And how do you intend to kill us, dollface?"

Reader: "Oh, no, I can't kill you. But my boss can. Say hi, boss."

Overlord! Husk, appearing behind reader: "Hi."

I'm aware of how cringe this is, but I couldn't help myself ;;

oh my god this isn’t cringe at all!! i love this sm !! hope ive managed to write this how you wanted and that you enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing this<33

warnings: bad grammar, swearing, alcohol, mention of harassment, the sinners might be sexist? (if i forgot anything tell me in the comments)

•

•

Overlord!Husk x waitress reader

You’ve met Husk a few years ago after you have just fallen into the dark place called Hell. You stumbled upon the casino after you accepted that this was your life— well afterlife for the rest of eternity, and damn, eternity is a long time! So you decided to look for a job, a job you had when you were alive; a waitress.

Husk hired you after a week of you being “on trial” as he likes to call it and you were just fit for the job! You had the nerves of a saint since you used to deal with drunk people that drowned themselves in alcohol and decided to throw the tiny bit of dignity away and harass the workers who didn’t really sign up for being harassed. At your old job you were usually the one that calmed fights and disagreements down and people were really grateful for that. You could say you were like the mom of that last bar you worked at!

Today the casino was calmer the usual, just sinners chatting away and dancing on the dance floor or just having a drink after a long day of work. The day was slow yes, but at least you didn’t have shitty customers to worry about; you thought to yourself but then suddenly the bars doors slam open and in come 4 not so friendly looking fox demons. You hated those kinds of demons, they usually tried to steal and just make your afterlife a living hell— well if that’s even possible since you already are in hell.

You shoot your fellow employees a uncertain glance and walk over to the demons to ask if they decided on their drinks. They snickered as they ordered their drinks and whispered to themselves as you went to get the drinks they wanted. The bartender, Chris, was a fellow friend of yours and as he makes the drinks he says with a worried tone; “Hey Y/N I know you’re experienced and shit but please be careful, those guys used to come here often and they like to start fights and they really are not fun to deal with so just, keep your guard up, okay?” He looks at you with genuine worry as he hands the drinks to you and you pick them up with ease; “Don’t worry Chrissy i’ll be extra careful okay? I’ve dealt with assholes when I was alive you really don’t need to worry about me.” You say with a smile and shoot him a wink and walk over to the men that are now playing poker and are betting for a huge amount of money. You place the drinks down and go back to talk with Chris to pass the time.

Husk was in his usual spot in the VIP room of the casino, gambling with some sinners, having a bored look on his face as it was clear the sinner really had no experience. He looks away for a moment to glance to the other side of the casino to see you chatting with the bartender. He smiles for just a bit and looks back at the game. You were quite close since you had both a lot in common and were quite fond of each other. After about a year and a half of you working at the casino, Husk asked you out and you, of course accepted! You got together after that and you couldn’t have been happier. But the only one that knew about your secret relationship was Chris, since you trusted him with that kind of information. You and Husk got married after 2 years of being together and Chris could just tell you two loved each other, you were practically love sick idiots!

“And you know that bitch that took your place while you were sick? She was a total—” You get cut off by the sound of yelling and you turn your head to see what was happening. The fox demons were now yelling and fighting, screaming foul things at each other because the game was apparently “not fair”. You exchange looks with Chris and sigh, walking over to the angered men with a calm look on your face, straightening your uniform.

“Gentlemen, gentlemen! May I ask what is the cause of all of this commotion? You’re disturbing the others that are trying to have a good time.” You say with a calm tone trying to calm the situation and to not raise attention. “Go mind your fucking business bitch you probably put something in our drinks to make us focus less so that asshole can win!” One of them yells and the others nod along with angered looks on their faces. “Im sorry wh—” You get cut off yet again by the one of the angry men; “Just shut the fuck up your so clueless it’s embarrassing you probably don’t even know how to do your job properly” Another one of them says grabbing your wrist to pull you down to his height. Your nose scrunches in disgust since you can smell the alcohol from his mouth and you just pray you don’t throw up in his face. He starts to speak again, clearly still annoyed; “How about you fucking go do your job like a good little lady and bring us another drink.” The demon says with a smirk on his face and lets you go and whistles at you as you go to leave. You turn around and glare slightly at the man but take a deep breath and say; “Gentlemen calm yourselves please, let’s be civil about this, yes? How about you either leave this casino and never come back, or you can treat the employees with respect.” You say brushing off your uniform and look at them with a smile fake like the money they were betting on.

“Yea? Or else what?” One of them asks gaining some new found confidence and smirks at you looking you up and down, licking his lips as if you were some kind of prey. “You get to keep your little afterlife and don’t die a second time!” You say with a sarcastic tone and smile. They start to laugh as if you just said the most hilarious thing in the entire world and look at you like a little child who was born yesterday; “Aww and how does a little demon like you intend to do that?” They all snicker awaiting your answer that they were sure it was gonna be even more hilarious then the previous statement you made.

Husk who heard the commotion and has been watching the interaction from afar for almost 10 minutes was growing more and more annoyed by the second. How dare they speak to his wife like that? They think they can just waltz in here and fuck with his wife? Yeah no. He slowly starts to walk towards you and the men and you notice him out from the corner of your eye and smirk, knowing from the look on his face that he was pissed. Maybe even that was not that much of a strong word to describe the anger bubbling up in his body. You look at the demons in front of you and say; “Perhaps you would like to discuss that with my boss?” You say and step back from the demons who replace their smug expressions with confused glances.

“Is there a problem here gentlemen?” Husk asks raising a brow with a annoyed look on his face as the fox demons now look like they’ve pissed themselves. You smirk at the men flipping them off from behind, sticking your tongue out. Your boss from your old job never really bothered to stand up for his employees so it felt good to finally have assholes like them eat their own shit.

The demons scatter and leave money at the table at mumble apologies towards you and Husk and leave the casino without another word. The employees and some of the customers cheer and whistle and scream at the demons to never come back and you cheer a bit yourself, happy that someone finally stood up for you.

The atmosphere was finally back to its normal calm self and Husk looks at you with a bit of a angered look, not because of you, but because he was still pissed someone would just treat his wife like shit, but of course he looks at you with a hint of worry but he’s careful to not show it since he has a reputation to uphold. “Y/N, my office. Now.” He says as he slowly walks over to the back door for employees and you share a worried look with Chris, he looks at you confused and raises a brow at you. You just shrug your shoulders since you’re just as confused as him but you follow closely behind Husk as he wait for you at the employee door. You both walk to his office not far down the hall and he opens the door and lets you enter first. He enters right after you, closing the door behind him. He stays quiet for a bit ask he smokes his cigarette, looking out from the huge window he had in his office.

You stand there nervously and fiddle with your sleeves, hoping you weren’t in trouble, because you really don’t wanna deal with an angry Husk. He throws the cigarette butt out of the window and turns to look at you. He walks up to you cups your cheek in his hand and asks; “Are you okay my love? Did those fuckers hurt you?” He says with worry evident in his voice and you sigh; “No, no they didn’t do anything i’m fine Husker i’ve dealt with shit like this before..” You say looking away from him frowning slightly grabbing your slightly bruised wrist. “I don’t take shit like that to heart.” You say with a smirk.

He smiles softly at you and pulls you closer grabbing you by the waist; “I know Doll I just wanted to check on you, you know? Those guys really are pieces of shit and i’ve wanted to shut them up for a while now, but you did that pretty well yourself~” He says with a smirk and a teasing tone.

“Yeah, yeah I know i’m just the best.” You say with a playful tone and chuckle. “I’m glad you were worried about me tho. I guess the “heartless Overlord” really does have a soft spot for me~” You giggle teasing the cat demon, you knew very well he cared about you, and you were very grateful for that. Husk wraps his tail around your leg and look you up at Husk, shivering slightly from his touch, but you can’t help but admire his features up close. He smirks at the remark and pulls you closer so your bodies are practically touching and your faces are inches apart. He suddenly dips you, your lips barely apart as he grabs you firmly, careful so you don’t fall and and smiles, a genuine smile you have never seen before, a smile that Husk himself couldn’t believe he had used and says;

“Hm, well love, you might just happen to have a special spot in this dead heart of mine~”

He says and leans in closing the small gap between you two. Your breath hitches at the contact but you don’t hesitate to kiss back, a simple act that made your heart flutter even though you’ve done this a million times before. You smiled into the kiss and you started to wonder how you could have found such a great partner.

It was kind of funny, you really were a match made in hell.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel season 1 #hazbin husk #overlord husk #overlords #overlord #husk x reader #hazbin hotel vaggie #hazbin hotel sir pentious #hazbin hotel niffty #hazbin angel dust #loser baby #vivziepop #vivienne medrano #keith david #husker x you #x reader #reader insert #female reader

[delulu-with-wandanat]

Hey. So how about big sis Natasha and little sis reader. (They live in an orphanage called the red room)

Jock Nat finds out that her nerd little sis is getting bullied by the cheer squad. Protective Nat isn't having any of it ..... even if she has to fight with her best friend, cheer cap Wanda ...... ?

Please and thank you 😊

Sweater Weather

Reader Description: She/her, nerdy, often wears an outer, freshman.

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Sister!Reader, Wanda Maximoff x Natasha Romanoff

Warnings: Bullying, mentions of suicide.

Summary: Wanda and Natasha are friends, maybe even more. People love a classic jock and cheerleader trope. However when Natasha finds out that Wanda's little groupie had been bullying her little sister, it puts a strain on their relationship. Will Wanda be able to redeem herself?

⧗ᗢ⧗ᗢ⧗

They always said high school was the best time of your life, at least that's what they said in movies or whatever the hell that guy said in that crappy TV show, 'Highs and lows of high school football'.

Y/n thought it was stupid. The show, and high school. It could be that it's true, that this was supposed to be the best time of her life. Yet perhaps that only applies to the popular kids and the jocks who wouldn't stop reminiscing about the 'good old times.'

The amount of alumni that would go back to her class and just talk to the teacher even though they only graduated like a few months ago was insane. And most of the time Y/n could tell they are one of those popular kids. Y/n could only hope her sister doesn't end up like that when she graduates.

Natasha Romanoff, star of Westview High. Captain of the softball team. And is probably dating the hot cheerleader captain, Wanda Maximoff. Natasha is proud, confident, she strides through the hallway like she owns the school. Contrast to her sisters who stray away from the spotlight, Yelena Belova and Y/n Romanoff.

Well... perhaps only Y/n. If Y/n would put them into high school stereotypes, Yelena would probably fall under the 'Cool' kids category. One where people know her and thought she's fun to be around with, she's funny, sarcastic. People knew Yelena, and Yelena knew people, but only sticks to her group of friends and not all that into popularity. Y/n thinks that's the best type of category to be in.

You fit in with everyone, and everyone just chills with you. Unfortunately for Y/n, she got the worst hierarchy in high school society.

The nerds.

Being a nerd isn't necessarily a bad thing... Well, that's what her sisters always tells her at least. But really it's hard to believe that when she gets cornered by two cheerleaders in the bathroom, how cliche.

"Hey girl!" Shannon, probably the bitchiest out of the whole cheerleading squad. "What are you doingg?" She asked with faux interest.

Y/n doesn't answer and merely kept her head down while she washes her hand.

"Don't be rude!" The other cheerleader bumped her hips while giggling to Shannon. "Oh. My. God. I LOVE your sweater, where'd you get it?"

Christ, they literally are a walking stereotype. Y/n knew they weren't interested in her sweater, this was just one of those teasing that these plastic bitches love to do. "It was my mother's..."

"And was your mom like... an old hag?" Well that was just too far, the only thing Y/n had from her birth mother was this sweater after she died in the house fire. Y/n stayed silent.

The two kept giggling while side eyeing her on the side, occasionally re-applying their make up in the mirror. Y/n quickly finishes up, not wanting to be around them any longer. She quickly left the bathroom but she heard the two giggling and talking about her behind her back.

This has been going on for months ever since she started high school. Honestly, Y/n should be used to it at this point. But that comment about her sweater crossed the line and she needed to leave quick before things escalated.

Y/n spent the rest of the day with her head down, minding her own business and eating lunch alone at the cafeteria. Normally she would sit with her friends, Shuri and Peter, the two other nerds, but they were attending some competition at the moment.

All the while, Natasha was sitting at a different table with her group of friends which was mostly made up of her teammates and the some of the Baseball boys.

"All I'm saying is if you don't ask her out, I will." Carol said with a mouthful of food.

"And I will kick you out of the team, Danvers." Natasha narrowed her eyes at Carol.

"Seriously, just ask her out. The tension is so thick I can practically punch through it."

Natasha merely rolled her eyes, but her gaze ended up locking onto a brunette who was sitting at another table. Green orbs met hers, and Wanda gave her the sweetest smile. Natasha couldn't help but to avert her gaze whilst trying to hide the grin creeping onto her face.

"Ugh, I'm going to barf." Clint said as he fake gagged. Natasha punched his shoulder lightly and he winced.

"Shut up before I show Laura that horrendous hair you had in 6th grade."

"Don't you fucking dare-"

The group fell into an easy conversation, talking about their plans after school. Showing each other funny videos they found while scrolling through social medias. Everything wasn’t out of the ordinary until suddenly they heard yelling from another table.

"Leave me alone!" The voice yelled, normally Natasha would ignore it but when the voice belonged to her little sister, her head snapped to the source.

The cafeteria was silence, some whispers could be heard. The cheerleader table fell into a hushed giggling, occasionally glancing at Y/n's table. Natasha narrowed her eyes slightly and returned her gaze to Y/n. She could see Shannon Carter sitting at the same table with her, wait are they friends or...??

"Was that Y/n?" She heard Clint's voice.

Y/n was quickly got up from her seat, feeling uncomfortable at the amount of eyes on her. She was in the verge of tears, but manages to hold it through until she was out of sight. Natasha quickly got up from her seat, which caught the attention of the rest of the group.

"Where are you going??" Carol asked.

"I'm just gonna check up on my sister." Her friends simply nod, knowing how protective Natasha is over her family.

Natasha made a note to slow her walk as she passed the cheerleader table, with her perceptive ear she manages to caught a few sentence. "She's probably so poor, that's why she has no other clothes to wear." She heard Shannon said. Fashion police much? Especially when she dresses like a basic bitch-

"Maybe it's vintage." She heard Wanda responded with a little bit of an attitude. Wanda notices Natasha passing by and greeted her, only for Natasha to glare and ignore her. She may like Wanda, but no one messes with her little sister.

She navigates her way through the hallway, trying to find Y/n. Damn it where is she?

Think, Natasha, think! Where would she go?

She trusted her instinct and it led her to the music room, surely enough, someone was playing the piano. Natasha peeked through the window and saw a glimpse of a familiar y/h/c hair, she opened the door and her sister was slightly alarmed, but ultimately let out a sigh of relief upon noticing it was only Natasha.

"Hey Nat."

Natasha gently smiled and took a seat beside her. Y/n's hand danced on the keys gracefully, filling the room with soft tunes.

"You wanna tell me what happened?"

Y/n shook her head, and Natasha didn't budged. Natasha simply let her head rest on Y/n's shoulder listening to her play. Y/n finishes and started to play another piece, one that was special to them. Natasha recognize the song as soon as Y/n played the intro. 'Love of my life' by Queen.

"Mom would be proud of you." Natasha said in a soft tone.

Y/n didn't answer, yet she had a soft smile on her face as she played the piano. Their mother used to play this song when they were younger. Natasha, Yelena, and Y/n would huddle around her and watched as their mother skillfully moved her fingers across the keys. They would fight over who could play the piano first, as they all wanted to be as skilled as their mother.

But ultimately, Y/n was the only one who inherited her talents. They didn’t talk and only enjoyed the soft tunes of from the piano for a little while, with Natasha occasionally humming to the lyrics.

When the song ended, the room was filled with silence. After a few moments, Y/n finally spoke up. “I don’t… Feel like going back today.”

Natasha nodded, she knew Y/n had meant the orphanage. They refused to call that dump a home. That orphanage shouldn’t even exist in the first place.

“You want to crash at Clint’s?”

“I’m not that close with him, beside, I kinda feel bad to his parents.”

“I’m sure it’ll be alright, you want me to ask him?”

Y/n nodded and let out the breath she was holding, one less thing to worry about. “I didn’t mean to make a scene, they just went too far today.”

Natasha’s eyes shifted in confusion, she lift up her head that was resting on her sister’s shoulder to face her. “What do you mean?”

“They kept teasing me about the sweater, cause I kept wearing it almost everyday.”

“Well they should mind their own business.” Natasha said with a slight venom in her voice.

“It’s ok, I’m used to it. It’s just because It’s mom’s y’know?”

Wait… “What? What do you mean by used to it??”

“I mean, it’s not a big deal-“

“No.” Natasha said firmly and turned to face Y/n fully. “No, it is a big deal. You’re telling me they’ve been bullying you?”

The younger Romanoff sighed, “You could call it that. But they never went as far as teasing, Nat. It’s fine.” Y/n knew how over protective her big sister could be.

In the Red Room, Natasha would not hesitate to punch someone if they messed with Y/n or Yelena. The other girls at the orphanage was afraid of Natasha because of it. As much as Y/n appreciates it, she didn’t exactly wanted to be known only as Natasha’s puny little sister.

Especially now that she’s in high school, where she could make a name for herself. Unfortunately high school stereotypes chooses you, not the other way around.

“Please just don't make a fuss about it.” Y/n said, hoping to change the subject but to no avail. Natasha was stubborn.

“It was Shannon Carter wasn’t it? I saw her sitting next to you before you left.” Oh well rest in peace Shannon. No point in trying to cover her fake ass now-

“If I say yes will you promise not to do anything?” Natasha gritted her teeth, she was about to protest but Y/n cut her off. “Nat, I'm being serious. I really, REALLY, just want to stay out of drama. Living in the orphanage is already hell, I don't need the teasing to go further because they know I'm your little sister."

Shannon better thank the gods because if not for Y/n, she would've need to book a plastic surgery appointment. Natasha reluctantly agreed to drop the subject. What matters now is cheering up Y/n.

An idea popped up in her head and Natasha playfully bumped their shoulders, "Hey, you wanna skip school?" She asked with a smirk.

Y/n furrowed her eyebrows, "Wouldn't we get in trouble?"

"Only if you get caught. Come on! I'm pretty sure Yelena's skipping too." It took a while to convince the younger Romanoff, but eventually they were out of the school's boundaries in no time. It was kind of embarrassing that her first time skipping school was with her big sisters, but nevertheless, Y/n thought it was fun.

And she wouldn't want it any other way.

Three days later, Natasha had been trying to avoid Wanda and her cheer squad. Because if she didn't, she would've probably punch Shannon Carter straight in the face. Unfortunately for her, fate wasn't exactly on her side.

While Natasha was opening her locker, Wanda approached her with that adorable smile. "Hey." Wanda greeted her shyly. It was strange really, the girl was different when she wasn't around her friends. Natasha found it rather adorable to see this other side of Wanda.

"Hi." Natasha responded with a kind smile, ok she may be a little upset at Wanda. But really, can you blame her? Wanda's extremely cute.

"Uh... I was just wondering if you wanted to go somewhere after practice, maybe get some food or whatever?" Wanda asked with hopeful eyes.

Natasha desperately wanted to say no. Mainly because she didn't want to associate with people who are friends with her sister's bully, unfortunately she is merely a teenager with raging hormones. "Yeah, sure."

Wanda then beamed in delight, "Ok! So uh, I'll see you then." They both then went to their respective class, both with a smile on their face.

Practice was hell that day, I mean fuck, she gets that competition was around the corner but today's drill was insane. At this point, Natasha thinks their coach is just trying to kill them. Thankfully they were done for the day and she's got a date with a hot cheer captain.

Natasha finishes up in the locker room with the other softball girls, they had to change rather quickly as they shared the locker room with the cheerleaders. Though they didn't mind sharing, it just gets a little crowded. Natasha felt a tap on her shoulder and turned around to be greeted by those beautiful green eyes.

"Hey! I won't take long. Meet you outside?" Wanda asked.

Natasha nods, "Sure, I'm just finishing up. Text me when you're done." She responded rather shyly, only Wanda Maximoff could make her all fuzzy feeling.

Wanda smiled at her and returned to her place with her friends. Natasha went back to packing up the last of her equipments. Pants, towel, glove, and- shit where's my shoes?

"Did you guys see Y/n today?" Natasha tensed the moment she heard Shannon's voice.

"About time she wash that sweater." Another cheerleader said.

"Honestly, I bet it smells so bad." Sharron giggles. "It's not like her taste got any better, all of her clothes looked worn down."

"Guys stop it." Wanda said, gaining attention from her friends. Oh ok good to know she wasn't- "It's called being indie." Fucking hell, Natasha clenched her jaw. Trying to hide her disappointment.

The girls giggled and another one spoke up, "Does her parents not love her enough to buy her new clothes."

"I heard her parents died."

"If I was her mother, I would've killed myself too-" Sharron was quickly slammed against the locker by none other than Natasha Romanoff. Causing all the girls to look at her in shock. "What the fu-"

Natasha couldn't contain her anger and gave her another rough shoved, she didn't care that Wanda was witnessing the whole confrontation. "Go on. What else do you have to say, Carter?"

Sharron was lost for words, she could barely utter a word. "I-"

"What more do you have to say about my sister?" Shit.

"S-Sister?" Sharron manages to ask.

"If you so much as glance at her I won't hesitate to permanently damage your face. Got it?" Sharron didn't need to be told twice. The venom in Natasha's voice scared her to her core. She nodded frantically. "Same goes for the rest of you." That was all that Natasha said before hastily taking her leave.

The audacity of these girls.

Natasha stomps her way out of the locker room. She was filled with too much anger and disappointment. One, they insulted her sister. Two, they brought up her parents as well. And three, the fact that Wanda was no better than them. Her friend, her best friend, one she had a crush on, and maybe even love. Was a down right bitc-

"Natasha wait!" Speak of the devil.

Natasha tried to ignore her and made her way out of the school through the field. Wanda manages to catch up to her and pulled her to a stop. Yet Natasha pulled her hand away just as quick, it tore Wanda's heart. "What the hell do you want?!"

"Natasha please, I- I didn't know Y/n was your sister-" Wanda tried to reason. That made her furious.

"And if she wasn't, would it make in any better to bully someone?" Natasha asked. "Just- Leave me alone. I don't want to associate myself with someone like you." Natasha spat.

Wanda knew she was wrong, there's no denying that. But she didn't want to lose Natasha, her best friend. "Tasha, wait please just listen!"

"I have nothing more to say." Natasha started walking away again towards the parking lot, and she made it clear nothing Wanda had to say would make her listen. So, Wanda ran to stand in front of her to stop her track. Guilt smeared across her face.

"Look, I'm sorry. I really am!" She pleaded.

"I'm not the one you owe an apology too."

"I will, I promise. I just- I don't want to lose our friendship..."

Neither did Natasha. She genuinely liked Wanda, their friendship, and... well, Wanda. But nobody messes with her family. "You did that when you bullied my sister."

Wanda tried to defend herself, because yes she maybe have joined the conversation with her friends just to stay on topic, but she never actually teased Y/n. She never outright bullied her, or corner her in the bathroom. All she did was chime in here and there when their friends talked shit about other people. It doesn't make it any better, In any way It was pathetic.

But can you really blame her? She was merely a teenager trying to fit in.

Before Wanda could even explain herself, Natasha held up her hand to stop her. "Safe it. I don't ever want to speak to you."

"No... No, please. Natasha just listen-" Wanda was cut off by a honk of a car. They glanced to see Clint in a car with the window's down.

"Come on, lovebirds! I'm your chauffeur for the night." He clearly missed out on a few episodes.

Natasha quickly approached the car and got into the passenger seat. "Just drive, Clint. Date's canceled."

One of the things Natasha appreciates from Clint is that he understood her better than anyone. And seeing Natasha's distressed face, he drove out of the parking lot without another word. He gave Wanda a quick look of apology before rolling up his window.

Wanda watched as Clint's car drove out of the school boundaries. She felt sick to her stomach, tears pooling in her eyes. Wanda's heart broke into a million pieces. Not only did Natasha hated her, but she also ruined their friendship.

What can she do to restore it?

Hellooo, sorry this took a whilee. I've had many projects to do it makes my brain dead to write anything. Anyway I hope you enjoy this one! I'm planning to make a part 2, hopefully their relationship is not doomed😩

#natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff #wandanat #natasha #wanda x natasha #wlw #wanda #wandanat hs au #wandanat au #wandanat fanfic #wandanat x platonic!reader #natasha x you #natasha x sister!reader #natasha x sibling!reader #moffnoff #natasha x reader #natasha x wanda #wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x wanda maximoff #also i don't have beef with sharron carter #her name is just mean girlable

[bigfatbimbo]

Friday anon here-

Ugh! The implications of sub Vox in his canon time period are so delicious! It’s totally taboo, it would ruin him if it got out, so much shame and confusion and insecurity! He’d fight against it so hard but still somehow end up on his knees

He always thought he was such a strong man and now he’s trying to convince himself he doesn’t like it because that’s not how things are supposed to be! The man is supposed to take charge and he’s the man, isn’t he? This whole thing feels topsy turvy but it keeps happening and he keeps ending up breathless by the end of the night

It might be less maddening if you didn’t act so normal during the day but it’s business as usual, so professional that he could almost be convinced that it didn’t happen. But it did happen and it keeps happening and he’s in too deep now

What would people think if they knew?

The way I would so write an entire fic about this. But alas, i’m tired so take my fried up brain crumbs. Ugh but this with that assistant boss au you were talking about especially hits me.

But the level of insecurity that comes with every night is actually unimaginable. The way that you’re running the show isn’t right. He’s the man, and quite literally the man of the office as well. But you’re just so hard to resist when you speak to him as if you’re totally untouchable.

The embarrassment comes before, then he finds it impossible to keep while you work your magic, but the shame seeps in after you leave. He should feel weak, and he does. But you do your job and act as if it doesn’t even happen, so it’s undeniable that on a certain level he was still your boss. Just only in specific settings, he supposed.

He tried to justify it in his head; I mean, he’s keeping his worker happy, right? But he knew that was bullshit, before said worker was stroking his dick until he almost cried, he never was one to care about his employees needs.

You were so put together about the whole thing, absolutely rocking his world and then acting like it didn’t mean anything. It did mean something to Vox. It was so unconventional, and absolutely alarming when compared to the gender norms of the ‘man’ in a relationship.

So yes, he’d put up a fight, try to be domineering, but at a certain point it felt like he was just putting up a fight for the sake of putting up a fight. Not to win.

Because under your hands, he looses every ounce of power he has. He’s never felt anything like it, being a man of his status, he’s never not been given control or respect. But now he finds he’s craving your touch, your mean words, your—and here’s the worst part—validation. Shouldn’t you, his assistant, be craving his?

But your sessions never leave him competent enough to say anything. Whether it be after hours at work, in the supply closet in the office, or maybe a late night visit on a weekend. Your words had a habit of evoking an annoying amount of emotion out of him. When you’re too mean, which you are, he’s had to stop himself from crying. But when you’re uncharacteristically nice… well he has the same problem.

Other than immature fits of anger, he’s always had a particularly firm grasp on his emotions. But just as this grasp loosened around you, so swirled every illusion he’s ever had about the ‘right’ way for man and women to act, and not that he’s so concerned with morals, but boss and employee, as well.

And the thing is, he’s a very highly respected man around the office, so if it gets out that your fucking and how your fucking, he’s absolutely ruined. His reputation, the fear he evoked, all gone. He’d be a fucking joke. But that doesn’t stop him from begging for you every night.

Anyways, now I really wanna do a full fic with this like this idea has a hold over me oh my god. God, if you send me anons and asks about this idea tonight, i’ll start believing in you 🙌🙌

#well maybe not #anyways #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel smut #vox x reader #dom reader

[wolfjackle-creates]

Bring Me Home Arc 2 Part 5

It's Wednesday again, you know what that means! I'm going to officially start calling this Arc 2 instead of Chapter 2 because it's too long already and I only *just* get to the plot with the end of this segment.

Story Summary: Tim and Danny are both neglected by parents who care more about their work than their families. They deal with this by spending too much time online and find each other playing MMORPGs. They keep up their friendship as Tim becomes Robin and Danny becomes Phantom and don't bother keeping secrets from each other.

First, Previous

Word Count 1.3k words

-----

Tim clenched his teeth, but allowed himself to be pulled to the counter where they ordered an obscene amount of food thanks to the appetite of four metas. He insisted on using B’s card to pay for everyone.

Sam didn’t even wait for their food to be ready before she started questioning Conner.

“What do you think of rich people?” she demanded.

“Um… What?” Conner looked to Tim, eyes wide, clearly lost as to what he should answer.

Tim just shrugged.

“What. Do. You. Think of rich people? It’s not a hard question. I’m just trying to gage your actual punkness.”

“I don’t… I mean, Mr. Wayne is cool. I’ve met him a few times and he’s always been nice to me. But Lex Luthor… He’s the worst.” Even now, Conner couldn’t help but shudder when he thought of his creator and Tim scowled into his soda.

“Don’t mince words, Kon,” Tim said. “Luthor should be shot and dropped in the deepest part of the ocean.”

Conner laughed and pointed to Tim. “Yeah, that.”

“Hmmm… It’s a start.” Sam nodded. “Really, there’s only one rule to being punk and everything else derives from that: the man sucks.”

“The man?”

And there it was. Conner was still learning a lot of slang. “She means the people in charge. That you can’t trust the government or people in authority to actually have your best interests at heart or to do the right thing.”

“Oh!” Conner’s eyes lit up in understanding. “Well, obviously! I’ve always had to look after myself. At least until I met you guys.”

Cassie elbowed him. “And now you’re stuck with us for life. You’re ours.”

“Damn right!” Bart held out a fist to Conner who bumped it with his own.

Danny laughed. “You weren’t exaggerating, Secrets. You guys really are ride-or-die.”

Tim looked over his friends and couldn’t hold back a soft smile. “Damn right we are. Just like you three.”

“Well, we know something about the ‘or die,’” said Danny.

Tim rolled his eyes. “You’re worse than Dick.”

Tucker’s mouth was open as he looked between them. “They know?”

“Yeah,” said Danny. “Tim’s known since, like, a week after the accident. And when they came by my house, my parents decided to show off the home defense system. Couldn’t keep it a secret after that.”

Based on Sam’s wince, she knew exactly what the home defense system could do to Danny. Tucker pulled out one of his devices and started typing on it. “Will you finally let me do something about that?”

Danny just rolled his eyes. “I’m fine, Tucker. Sam. Tim. All of you. My parent’s inventions never work right. Or they don’t know how to actually use them. They didn’t think the thermoses worked at first, for God’s sake!”

“Right.” Tucker rolled his eyes. “Because their guns have never worked. Tim, can I have your number and email? Maybe if we all get on him he’ll listen to sense one of these days.”

“Oooh!” Cassie bounced in her seat. “I’ll help! We’ve lots of experience in that with Tim. He’s also the worst at calculating reasonable risks.”

“Great!” Tucker typed her number and email into his PDA and they started setting up group chats. Bart joined in by discussing some of Tim’s more ridiculous civilian escapades.

Tim exchanged a look with Danny. This was so not going to end well.

“Well, while they’re sorting that out, more about punk!” Sam pulled Conner deeper into a conversation about fighting for freedom and liberty and how her ultra recyclo-vegetarianism fit into her beliefs.

Tim sighed and said, “Well, at least they’re getting along?”

Danny groaned and held his head in his hands. “We’re so going to regret introducing them, aren’t we?”

“I already do.”

And then their order was called. Of course Bart was at the counter before any of the rest had even registered it was their order, but Conner and Cassie jumped up to follow and help him carry it.

Sam tried to go help but Tim held out a hand. “They’ve got it, trust me. Having more people will just make it harder for them.”

She still stood, but by the time she turned to help, the others were already returning with hands full of loaded trays. She scowled as she settled back down.

“We would’ve helped,” she said as the others set the food down.

Bart waved her off. “We got it! Sides, most of this is for me, Conner, and Cassie.”

Danny shook his head. “I ordered just as much as you!”

Tucker agreed, “And I ordered almost as much.”

Cassie shrugged as she rooted through bags and grabbed her orders. “Well we got there first. Come on, I’m hungry. Quit arguing and grab your food!”

Danny passed one bag to Sam, “One salad for you.” And a second bag found it’s way in front of Tim. “And a nasty burger for you. You’ll never want to eat a batburger again after this!”

Tim rolled his eyes, but obligingly unwrapped the burger and took a bite. He hummed in appreciation. It really was a solid burger and the sauce was quite good. “I do like it, I’ll give you that. But I still prefer Batburger.”

“Ugh, you’re hopeless!” Turning his back to Tim, Danny addressed the others. “What about you three? Batburger or Nasty Burger?”

Conner shrugged, “This is great, but it’ll always be Batburger for me, too.”

Cassie elbowed him as she finished her bite. “That’s only because you and Tim get midnight burgers there too often and you are mixing up the taste with the memories. These are clearly better.”

Bart had already finished his first burger and was licking his fingers clean. “Yep. These are absolutely better.”

Tim threw an arm around Danny’s shoulders. “Fifty-fifty split! Means we can’t make a decision until you come to Gotham and try one yourself.”

“Oh, that’s what it means, does it? And when do you think I’ll make it to Gotham?”

“Any time you want! You can stay with me. Hell, I’ll even pick you up and bring you there.”

Danny grinned. “If I ever can guarantee a break from ghost attacks, I might take you up on that.”

“Right,” said Sam to Conner. “While they’re flirting”—she expertly ignored Tim and Danny’s spluttered protests—“have you ever tried wearing makeup? I think you’d look killer in eyeliner.”

Meanwhile, Tucker pulled out his PDA and some headphones and started showing a video to Cassie and Bart who shifted to better see the screen.

Tim took a large bite of his burger, unsure what to say to Danny after Sam’s comment.

Danny didn’t seem to have the same reservations and shifted so he could press his shoulder against Tim’s. “Sorry. She and Tuck like to tease me. They’ve been calling you my internet boyfriend for ages.”

That admission made his face heat even more, but Tim tried to shrug it off. “It’s fine.” He knew from Dick that if he continued to protest, everyone would just take it as further confirmation they were right.

Danny shrugged and grabbed another container. Tucker tried to protest, but Danny ignored him. “Here, try a chili cheese fry; they’re great.”

Tim let out a breath and grabbed a fry, getting chili and cheese all over his hands as he did. “Thanks.”

Somehow, the group managed to not get yelled at for an hour as they laughed and joked in the corner booth, but eventually an employee came over to ask if they needed anything else. Danny ordered a milkshake for Jazz, and the group filed out. Night had set in fully while they’d been eating and Tim looked up at the sky. The stars really were much more visible here than in Gotham.

And that was when a large, swirling-green gash opened up in the night sky and dozens of ghosts started pouring through.

-----

Next

Sam is so going to try and radicalize Conner. Tim is just gonna let it happen. At least this radicalization is better than what he'd been exposed to previously.

Tag List Part 1

@gremlin-bot, @bonebrokebuddy, @britcision, @lady-time-lord-, @welcometosasakiworld, @akikkobara, @phoenixdemonqueen, @dolfay, @skulld3mort-1fan, @we-ezer, @markus209, @sjrose1216, @onyxlightdragon, @dragonsrequiem, @jesus-camp-the-sequel, @spidey29phangirl, @kyrianclawraith, @evilminji, @introvert-even-on-the-internet, @emergentpanda-blog, @lexdamo, @v-inari, @idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit, @longlivethefallen, @undead-essence, @xye-chan, @liandrin, @seraphinedemort, @kisatamao, @schalensitzbucket, @caelestisdreamer, @runfromthemedic, @nutcase8691, @channajen, @tonicmii, @ambiguouslyominous, @vythika96, @addie-lover-of-stories, @ironicvixen, @violetfox2, @pickleking8, @mysticalcomputerdetective, @ark12, @mygood-bitch99, @squirrel-wolf, @satisfactionbroughtmeback, @sometimesthingsfallapart, @automaticsoulharmony, @d4ydr34min9, @revnantdpxdclover, @midigeria, @raginblastocyst, @feral-bunny31, @lunaria618, @ghostreblogging, @ace-aro-as-shit

#dpxdc #dead tired #is that a plot you spy? #why yes it is! #the rest of this will be written as I rewatch the singular episode over and over and over again #i hope itll go quickly

[fatecantstopme]

Just You Wait

Pairing: Henry Cavill x Plus size!Reader

Summary: Big girl, giant man, perfect pair.

Warnings: RPF. An insane amount of smut: Size kink, praise kink, dom/sub vibes, Oral (M/F receiving), unprotected sex (P in V), face sitting, orgasm denial, light choking, spanking. Use of pet names (darling, baby, love). Cursing.

A/N: My first RPF and I feel kinda weird about it, but this man has been living in my brain rent-free for days and I couldn't help myself.

When you first met Henry Cavill, you almost had a heart attack. The man was even more deliciously gorgeous in person than you could have ever imagined. You felt like you had absolutely no right to even be looking at this man, let alone meeting him. It was pretty much the luckiest day of your life, all thanks to your childhood best friend, Chris Evans. Chris was a couple years older than you, but you were born and raised in the same town, family friends since before you were even born. 

On this particular evening, Chris had dragged you along with him to an A-list holiday party, insisting that he didn’t want to go alone. You weren’t exactly a party person, but you’d just moved to LA and didn’t really know anyone. So when Chris begged you to come with him, you figured it wouldn’t hurt. Maybe you’d even meet a couple people, make some friends and whatnot. You did not, however, expect to meet the single most beautiful man on planet earth. A man that you’d had a crush on from the very first time you saw him on the TV show The Tudors. 

Chris knew you had a massive crush on Henry, and if his expression was anything to go by, he also knew that Henry would be at this party. 

“Christopher Robert Evans, if you did this on purpose, I swear to god—” you started. 

“Do what?” he asked, feigning innocence. 

Just as you were about to verbally assault him, you heard a delicious English accent from directly behind you. 

“Hey, Evans, good to see you again.” 

You turned around and found yourself face-to-face with Henry Freaking Cavill. You stared at him like a guppy fish, mouth opening and closing, no words coming out.

Chris pulled the larger man into a bro hug. “Always good to see you, man.” He turned to you, clearly intent on introducing you. “This is my best friend, (Y/N). She just moved to LA.”

Henry looked you up and down, eyes moving salaciously slowly. You silently begged the floor to open up and swallow you whole. Unfortunately for you, the floor remained completely solid. 

Henry offered you a warm smile and extended his hand to take yours. When you placed your own hand in his, instead of shaking it, he leaned down and placed a soft kiss to it. 

You almost died right then and there. If it weren’t for Chris, you probably would have just stood there in awkward silence for the rest of time. Chris elbowed you in the side and you yelped in surprise. He gave you a look and you immediately cleared your throat. 

“Sorry, um—hi.” You literally couldn’t have sounded more like an idiot if you tried. 

To your surprise, Henry just smiled at you. He seemed almost…intrigued, by your awkwardness. “It’s an absolute pleasure to meet you, (Y/N).” 

You nodded and Chris cleared his throat again. “I swear I’m not normally this awkward,” you mumbled. 

Chris and Henry both laughed. “I can confirm that. She’s actually usually the life of the party.” 

You rolled your eyes. “I wouldn’t go that far.” 

“Well, I think you’re positively charming,” Henry replied. 

You nearly choked on your own saliva. The mere idea that Henry could have found you charming was actually laughable. 

Chris slid his arm around you and gave your shoulders a squeeze. “She’s the most charming person I know.” 

You recognized the teasing tone in Chris’s voice, but Henry clearly didn’t know him as well as you did. “Oh,” he said in surprise. “Are you two, a—uh—couple?”

You laughed so hard you couldn’t breathe. “Dear god, no,” you managed between fits of laughter. 

Chris was laughing too, but he smacked you on the arm when you didn’t stop laughing. “Laughing hard enough there, (Y/N/N)? I’m not that terrible, ya know.” 

“Oh you know that’s not what I meant, it’s just…I know you waaaay too well to ever date you.” 

Chris grinned ear to ear. “You know me too well, period.”

Henry looked back and forth between the two of you before shaking his head with a chuckle. “I can see why you like her, Evans, even if it’s only in a friendly way.” 

“Strictly platonic,” Chris said. “She’s completely available!” 

“Christopher!” you hissed in embarrassment. 

“What? It’s true,” he insisted with a shrug. 

You groaned under your breath, but your mood changed instantly when Henry said gently, “I’m also completely available.” 

“How is that even physically possible?” you asked before your better judgment could stop you. 

Henry grinned teasingly. “Whatever do you mean?” 

Fuck, fuck, shit, fuck. “I—umm—well…have you seen a mirror lately?” you squeaked out. 

Chris was desperately trying to control his laughter, his face twitching slightly as the mask began to slip. 

Henry simply smirked. “Are you saying I’m attractive?” he teased. 

You figured you couldn’t get any more awkward, so you might as well go all in. “Easily the sexiest man alive.” 

“Woah, woah, woah,” Chris interjected. “Pretty sure that’s my title.” 

“This year,” you teased. “Perhaps Henry will win it next year.” 

Chris rolled his eyes. “I just want it to be very clear that I held it first.” 

His tone was light and joking, and it made you laugh. Henry’s eyes were watching you, the beautiful blue orbs incredibly intense. 

“It’s much more of a compliment coming from you than any sort of public voting poll,” Henry said warmly, a teasing tone in his voice. 

Your eyes widened slightly. “Technically, I’ve personally voted you sexiest man in the universe at least twice.” 

Henry laughed loudly, the sound warm and sweet. “Now that’s a title I can get behind.” 

“You can get behind me,” you mumbled under your breath. 

“Sorry, love, what was that?” Henry asked. 

You felt your cheeks heat up immediately. You hadn’t intended for anyone to hear what you said, hell you hadn’t really intended to say it out loud at all. “Um—I—uh.” 

Henry leaned forward conspiratorially and whispered in your ear, low enough that only you could hear him. “I would be more than happy to, darling. If that’s something you really want.” 

He pulled back from you, giving you a wink. You stood there, rooted to the spot, jaw practically on the floor. 

Chris seemed to sense the change in the mood and slowly backed away. “I’m gonna go do something, uh, somewhere else.” He disappeared into the crowd of people filling the room. 

Your heart was beating so loudly that you were pretty sure Henry could hear it. Your breathing was shallow and rapid and you could feel heat pooling in your lower body. 

“So? Is that something you want?” Henry asked you again, eyebrows raised in curiosity. 

You nodded your head rapidly, not trusting your voice in the moment. 

Henry leaned forward, large body towering over you. “I need to hear you say it, beautiful.” 

“Yes, please,” you whispered. 

He smiled warmly and took your hand. “Come with me.” 

You followed along behind Henry, unsure of where exactly this was heading. He guided you up the stairs of the beautiful mansion, escorting you quickly to the nearest empty bedroom. The moment you were inside, he shut the door and locked it. You could still hear the music playing downstairs, but you were completely and utterly alone with the man you’d fantasized about for years. 

“I have to know, (Y/N), how long have you wanted me?”

You gulped, feeling so incredibly small under his intense gaze. “Years,” you whispered honestly. 

Henry groaned audibly. “I wish Chris had introduced us sooner. You’re gorgeous and I’m quite certain you’ll taste delicious.” He took a step towards you, eyes filled with desire. 

“Really?” you whimpered softly.

“Oh sweet girl, I wanted you the moment I saw you. I said hi to Chris in hopes that he would introduce me to you.” 

Surprise lit up your pretty face. You’d been a bigger girl most of your life, puberty slamming into you like a fucking freight train. You had large breasts, a round butt, wide hips, thick thighs, and a soft belly. Henry was the polar-opposite in every possible way. His entire body was covered in muscles, strong and sturdy. You were much shorter than him, and despite your curvy body, he was so much larger than you. The mere size difference between the two of you made you wet. Desire pooled in your belly and you found yourself wanting to be used by this man in every possible way. 

You licked your lips and looked up at him, trying to determine exactly what type of man he would be in the bedroom. You knew exactly what you liked and you silently prayed that he would oblige you. “What do you want me to do, sir?” you asked in your most submissive voice. 

“Fuuuuck,” Henry groaned. His body immediately responds to you, cock hardening in his already tight pants. “Come here, pretty girl.” 

You move to stand directly in front of him and he grabbed your hips to pull you flush against his body before leaning down and pressing his lips to yours. The kiss started gentle enough, but quickly turned into a deeper, more passionate one. You could feel Henry’s hard length against your abdomen, and his hands tangled into your hair, tugging lightly. You moaned against his lips, unintentionally inviting his tongue to enter your mouth. 

His tongue immediately asserted dominance over yours, everything about him deliciously predatory. Even the way he held your body against his reminded you that you were completely at his mercy. There was no place you’d rather be. 

When Henry finally allowed you to pull away to breathe, you gulped air down as quickly as possible, desperate to feel his lips against yours again. 

“Can you take your clothes off for me, darling?” he asked softly. 

You nodded your head, but your self-consciousness about your body started to rear its ugly head. You started to take off your pants, feeling less uncomfortable with him seeing your lower body than your torso. 

Henry watched your movements hungrily. He was desperate to touch every single inch of your body, but he knew he needed to be patient. He was enjoying watching you strip too much to stop you. 

When your pants were lying on the floor of the room, you started to remove your shirt, but stopped just before lifting it to reveal your stomach. You took a deep breath before quickly removing the shirt completely. Your arms immediately moved to cover your stomach, as if on instinct. 

Henry was trying to appreciate your beautiful form and was annoyed when you put your arms in the way, hiding yourself. He was about to correct you when he looked at your face and realized the truth. 

He took a step towards you and laid a large hand on your arm. “Don’t hide yourself darling. I want to see every single inch of you.”

You swallowed thickly, but allowed him to peel your arms away from your body, giving him a full view of your scantily clad form. 

He groaned softly, eyes raking over your body. “I’ve never seen someone so beautiful,” he whispered reverently. 

“Thank you,” you murmured. 

“Now, how about you let me take off that pretty bra?”

“Please,” you whispered. 

The moment he got a full view of your breasts, he inhaled sharply. Normally, he would have asked first, or at least taken his time with you, but he couldn’t help himself. He leaned down and sucked one of your nipples into his mouth, eliciting a soft moan from your lips. 

Henry seemed to realize that he might have moved too quickly and immediately removed his lips from your breast. “Sorry, darling. I should have asked first.” 

“It’s quite fine,” you murmured. “You’re in charge, sir.”

The use of the title made his body shiver involuntarily. “That’s my good girl.” 

You gasped and pressed your hips against him, the praise clearly going straight to your core. 

Henry obviously noticed too. “You like that don’t you? When I tell you you’re a good girl?”

You nodded quickly. 

“Darling,” he said in a warning tone.

“Yes, sir,” you said hastily. 

“Much better.” His lips attached to your breasts again, hands sliding up your body to assist his mouth in pleasuring you. He took his time, enjoying the sweet little sounds you were making. 

Your moans turned into soft whimpers of desire. You needed more, desperate to feel his touch on every part of you. 

Henry seemed to sense your need and he lifted his mouth off of you. “You need more, baby?” he asked softly. 

“Please, sir. I need you.”

“Well how could I deny such a sweet request?” Henry took a step away from you and directed you to sit down on the edge of the bed. “Watch me,” he said firmly as he began to remove his clothes. 

Each movement was painfully slow and you wanted to rip his clothes off and fuck him so badly that you almost jumped out of your own skin. Henry knew exactly what he was doing to you and damnit if it didn’t turn you on even more. 

When Henry unbuttoned his shirt and slid it off his body, you nearly passed out. “Holy shit,” you murmured. 

He grinned, practically preening under your appreciative gaze. He removed his pants much more quickly than he had his shirt, his own desperation controlling his actions. He tugged his boxer briefs down, his massive cock standing tall, begging for attention. 

If you thought he looked good before, there weren’t even words for how incredible he looked completely naked like this. Every inch of his body was hard and chiseled, and you felt an intense desire to touch him. 

Without a single thought, you dropped to your knees in front of him, mouth mere inches from his hard length. You looked up at him, eyes begging him for permission. 

He looked down at you with a dark expression. “Open your mouth for me, love.”

You immediately did as he asked, mouth parting for him, tongue ready to taste him. 

He slipped the head of his cock between your lips with a groan. “Can I fuck your pretty little mouth, darling?” 

You pulled back slightly. “Henry, I promise I’ll tell you if it’s too much. Stop asking me for permission, you already have it.” 

He raised his eyebrows, a small smirk playing on his lips. “As you wish.” 

The moment the words left his lips, he was grabbing your hair and thrusting his cock into your mouth so deeply you gagged. You dug your nails into his thighs and pulled him even closer, letting him know you liked it. 

Henry let go of any sort of inhibition he may have had and began fucking your mouth relentlessly. Every single thrust hit the back of your throat, and within seconds you were a drooling, whimpering mess. 

“Fuck, baby, feels so good. Doing so well for me.” 

You moaned as loudly as you could, the vibrations reverberating through his cock. 

“Shit,” he groaned as his thrusts became more frantic. “Gonna cum, baby.”

You tightened your throat around his cock and his hips bucked as he came in your mouth, seed spilling down your throat. He pulled out and pulled you up off the floor, gently cleaning your face, wiping the saliva and tears from it. “Loose the panties, sweetheart,” he said softly before climbing on the bed. 

You did as he asked before climbing onto the bed with him. He beckoned you closer, pulling you up to straddle his chest the moment your body was within reach. 

“Sir?” you asked in confusion. 

“Come up here, baby. Wanna taste you.” 

There is absolutely no way that he meant what you think he meant…you were much too big for that. 

As if he read your mind, he dug his large fingers into the flesh of your hips. “Get up here, now.” His voice and expression practically dripped with dominance and it was extremely hard for you to resist him. 

“But—I, um—I don’t wanna hurt you,” you mumbled. 

Henry sat up slightly, large hand grabbing your chin and forcing you to look directly at him. “I could pick you up and toss you around if I felt like it, baby. You’re not going to hurt me or smother me or whatever other nonsense you’re thinking.”

Your eyes widened, pussy clenching at the mere thought of him tossing you around like a ragdoll. 

Henry seemed to notice and he shot you a little grin. “Oh, we’re definitely gonna talk about that later, but right now, I want to eat that little pussy until you can’t breathe.” 

You couldn’t deny that it sounded incredible, so you started to crawl up his body until your pussy hovered directly over his mouth. Henry dug his fingers into your thighs, pulling you down against his mouth, holding you tightly. 

His tongue darted out to taste you and he moaned loudly. “Fuck, yes,” he groaned into you. He started to lick and suck at your pussy, skills clearly evident. 

You cried out loudly as he ate you with abandon. You started to ride his face slowly without even realizing it. The moment your hips started to move, Henry gripped them and started to guide you gently, helping you reach your high more quickly. 

“Oh god, please,” you whimpered. Your legs were already shaking and you could feel your impending orgasm ready to rip through you. “Please, I—I’m so close.” 

Henry loved the sound of you begging for him. He couldn’t speak without stopping what he was doing, so instead he moaned against your core as his tongue assaulted your clit. 

The vibrations from his moan mixed with his current actions, quickly pushed you straight over the edge. In the heat of the intensity of your orgasm, you cried out his name. 

Henry helped you through your high before gently lifting you off his face and onto the bed beside him. The fact that he did so with almost no effort was a massive turn-on. 

Henry immediately rolled on top of you, hovering over your body, arms caging you in place. “You tasted even better than I imagined,” he whispered into your skin as he kissed your neck. 

You sighed softly, loving the way his lips felt against your skin. 

“But you made a big mistake, darling.” His voice was dark and he bit your shoulder gently. 

“I—I did?”

“What did you call me when you came, baby?”

You quickly realized your mistake and hastily apologized. “I’m so sorry, sir. I—I didn’t mean to. I was just—you were so good—and I—” 

His teeth nipped at your pulse point, effectively silencing your stuttered apology. “I know you’re sorry, love, but unfortunately your bad behavior must be punished.” 

Your body immediately responds to the threat of punishment, fluid dripping from your core as a shudder raked through your body. Neither of which went unnoticed by Henry. He grinned devilishly, knowing you were so wanting and willing. 

Henry’s cock was hard again and pressing against your core. You whimpered slightly and he looked at your face. Seeing worry in your eyes, Henry’s expression softened. “I’ll go slow, darling.” 

You nodded. “Okay.” 

“Hey,” he whispered, placing a soft kiss to your lips. “I’ve got you, okay?” 

You nodded again. “I just haven’t—umm—haven’t had anyone that big before.” 

Henry smirked, eyes filling with lust. “Yeah? Never had a big thick cock in your sweet little pussy before?” 

Your eyes widened, clearly enjoying the dirty talk. “No, sir.” 

He groaned, the head of his cock pressing between your folds. You gasped as he slowly began to enter you. The intensity of the stretch was almost unbearable. Henry paid close attention to your face as he continued to push into you, making sure you weren’t in too much pain. He knew there was nothing he could do to prevent some pain, but he would be damned if he hurt you more than was necessary. “You with me, pretty girl?” 

“Ye—yes, sir.” 

“That’s my good girl.” He pushed even farther into you, almost bottoming out. “You’re taking me so well. Just a little more.” 

You clung to Henry’s shoulders as he fully sheathed himself inside of you, going still to allow you time to adjust. You had never in all your life felt so incredible and the man hadn’t even moved yet. Your pussy was stretched deliciously and so full of him, and you loved it. 

“Hen—sir, please move, please.” 

Henry decided to ignore your near-mistake since you corrected it so quickly. Instead, he obliged your request, hips almost immediately setting a brutal pace. 

“Oh—god—” you moaned loudly, words barely able to form in your mouth. 

“Fuck, darling, this pussy is so tight. Made for me,” Henry groaned out as he fucked you harshly. 

You could already feel an orgasm building within you and Henry seemed to notice it almost immediately. 

“You’re close aren’t you, baby?” he grunted. 

You nodded rapidly. 

“Don’t cum until I give you permission. Understand?” 

You looked upset, but nodded again. 

Henry grabbed your jaw harshly, forcing you to look at him. “Words, love.” 

“I understand, sir.” 

“Good girl.” Henry’s agile fingers quickly found your clit and began to gently rub it in exactly the way you liked as if he’d fucked you 100 times before. 

Your moans only increased in volume and number, signaling Henry that you were incredibly close. “Do you wanna cum, darling?” 

“Yes sir—please,” you begged. 

The moment the words left your mouth, Henry’s hands left your body and his hips slowed to shallow thrusts. 

“No—no, please, sir. Don’t stop.” 

“Sorry, love. This is part of your punishment,” he murmured as he placed gentle kisses to your neck and face. 

Your orgasm quickly faded and Henry picked up his movements again. This went on for what felt like an eternity, at least 5 orgasms were denied by Henry, and by this point you were a sobbing mess beneath the behemoth of a man. 

“Please, sir—please, I can’t—I need to cum,” you sobbed, actual tears sliding down your cheeks. 

As much as Henry was enjoying denying you, he desperately wanted to feel you cum around his cock. “Yeah, baby? You need it?” 

“Please,” you begged desperately. 

Henry’s hand wrapped around your throat and gave it a very gentle squeeze as he fucked into you. You mewled desperately, clinging to him tightly. 

“Cum for me, pretty girl,” he murmured. 

The orgasm that hit you was the most incredible, intense orgasm of your life. You cried out, but no coherent words left your lips. Your body shook beneath the massive man, and he released your neck, shifting his weight to chase his own high. 

“Fuck, baby, I’m so close. Gonna fill you up.” 

“Please sir. I wanna feel you cum in me.” 

“Fuck,” he gasped as he pumped into you, moans breaking through his dominant façade as his seed spilled into you. He worked himself through his orgasm before pulling out of you and collapsing beside you. 

“Give me five minutes, darling, and I’ll finish your punishment.” 

Your head whipped to face him so quickly, he was surprised you didn’t have whiplash. “More?” you asked breathlessly. 

“Oh yes. You just wait, pretty girl.” 

“Can we make it ten minutes?” 

He chuckled. “Only because you’re so difficult to say no to.” 

You were incredibly thankful for those ten minutes, but they passed way too quickly. Before too long, Henry was back on top of you, lips hungrily pressed against yours. 

“Roll over for me, darling.” 

You did as you were asked, now laying against the bed, face pressed into the comforter, ass in the air. 

Henry was directly behind you, admiring the view. His hands gently rubbed your ass, appreciating the supple skin. “Now this ass is the best I’ve ever seen,” he murmured. 

Before you could reply, you felt a sharp stinging pain on your ass cheek. You gasped at the sensation, head whipping around to look at Henry. He was smirking back at you, his entire body oozing the dominance you so desperately craved. 

“Count,” he demanded. 

“One,” you gasped out as he hit you again. Slap after slap after slap, all of which were soothed by him immediately after. “Fifteen,” you said breathlessly. 

Henry stopped, placing a gentle kiss to the reddened skin. “Such a good girl for me.” 

You whimpered, pussy dripping with the anticipation of what was to come. 

Henry lined himself up at your entrance, cock sliding back and forth along your folds to collect the juices there. Without warning, he fully sheathed himself in your tight pussy, your moans mixing with his soft curses. He once again set a relentlessly brutal pace. 

“Sir,” you gasped, the feeling so overwhelming that you couldn’t even begin to formulate any other thoughts. All you could do was moan in pleasure. 

“Shit, baby, so good for me,” he gasped. “I want you to cum all over my cock.”

You whimpered, orgasm already building within you. 

“Don’t you worry, baby, I’m gonna mark you forever. You’re mine,” he growled. 

The authority with which he said it had you clenching desperately around him. You wanted to be his, to be marked by him forever. 

Henry’s hand slid up your back, gripping your neck to pull you back against his chest. He held you tightly against him, hips never faltering. One hand wrapped around the base of your neck and the other slid down to rub your clit, the combination of all three actions and his breathy moans in your ear had you begging for release. 

“Please, sir—let me cum.”

“I’m gonna fill that sweet little pussy up, baby. You’ll never get rid of the feeling of me inside you,” he groaned in your ear. “Tell me you’re mine, baby. Wanna hear you say it.” 

“I’m—I’m yours,” you gasped out. 

“Fuck.” His movements became desperate and you could tell he was close to cumming. His hand tightened on your neck and you gasped in pleasure. “Cum for me, baby,” he whispered. 

Your orgasm slammed into you with even more intensity than the previous one. You cried out, moans mixing with Henry’s name. Your orgasm triggered his and he barked out your name as he spilled inside of you. 

After a few moments, Henry pulled out and laid you down gently on the bed before stumbling to the bathroom to grab a wet towel. He came back to the bed and very gently cleaned you up. Each touch against your pussy made you gasp, your over-stimulated body shaking beneath his gentle touch. 

“I’ve got you, darling. I’m here,” he whispered. 

Henry tossed the towel onto the floor and began to get dressed. Once he had his clothes on, he started to help you back into yours, but he slipped your panties into his pocket, refusing to give them back to you.

“Give me those!” you demanded with a laugh. 

“Absolutely not. These are mine now.” 

You chuckled and rolled your eyes. “So, um—I’m not sure I can walk.” 

Henry grinned impishly. “Don’t worry, I’ll carry you to the car.” 

“Car?” you asked in confusion. 

He raised an eyebrow. “Did you really think I’d just let you leave with Evans after this?” 

“I—uh, yeah. I mean, I guess I didn’t think about it.” 

Henry leaned over you, lips inches from yours. “I told you were mine, (Y/N). I wasn’t kidding.” 

Your eyes widened. You’d just assumed that was a heat-of-the-moment sex thing.

“Unless you don’t want that,” Henry said softly, backtracking a little, fearing he’d gone too far. 

“No!” you said quickly. “I mean, I want that. Definitely. You, uh—you kinda ruined me for all other men.” 

He grinned and puffed out his chest proudly. “It only gets better from here, love.” 

“Oh really?” you teased. 

He kissed you passionately before pulling away. “Just you wait.” 

#Henry Cavill x reader #Henry Cavill x reader smut #Henry Cavill x plus!size reader smut #Henry Cavill smut #Henry Cavill x plus!size reader

[pumpkin-patch-cat]

New Job, Who Dis?!

(Grim x Gender Neutral Reader)

Warnings:(DLC ending spoilers. Suggestive themes)

Grim is now living rent free in my brain.

After completing the DLC ending of A Date with Death, I have decided it is my favorite ending and conjured up a little dialog. This oneshot hints to the endings outcome, so spoiler warning ⚠️. This was written quickly, so pardon any grammatical errors! Enjoy!

“Hold up, start from the top. What's my job description again?”

“Your job will be to give life back to those who aren't supposed to die. Sometimes, innocent people are caught up in things where losing their life was NOT part of the original plan. Because your soul harbors the essence of life itself, with you at my side, you'll be able to attempt to save those people who are at the presepist of dying too early.”

“Attempt?” You eye him quizzically from your place at your desk. Casper is sat at the foot of your bed, long legs outstretched, hands in his lap. He nods and continues.

“Basically, when a mortal is on the verge of death, their soul has become tainted with what we call a ‘blight’ or ‘blight of death’. Similar to ‘the taint’ for reapers, though much much harder to bounce back from when the soul or a mortals very existence is overtaken or ‘infected’ if you will. Some people can bounce back on their own, while others succumb and meet their unfortunate end. I say attempt because sometimes a mortal is beyond cleansing. The blight is too far gone, and no amount of divine intervention will save their existence....so naturally, when we, no, you receive cases like this, time is of the essence.

“I see...wow, that's heavy. No pressure or anything. Sheesh.”

“Yes. The job will be difficult at times. Y/n, there will be times when a person will be beyond help. You'll want to save them desperately. Times where no matter how much effort is placed into saving them, it may not work, and you will be angry. I can't tell you how many times I've witnessed an innocent person parish entirely too early at the hands of a twisted version of fate. Those moments are out of my hands, and I have to ferry them away regardless. But that's where you'll come in.” 

“Sooo I'm basically an angel??”

“No, they're grotesque creatures. They instill fear in humans and sugar coat their acts with pretty words. You'll actually give hope. Plus, you're much prettier than they are. Who really needs that many eyes and wings, honestly??? But anyways…”

You fall silent in deep thought.

“Y/n? Why are you screwing up your face like that?”

“Can I really do this, Casper? What if I mess up??”

“My sweetest, little nightmare. I'll be there with you every step of the way.” Casper smiles reassuringly.

“Thank God. OH! Do I get a cool ass scythe of my own, too?” You perk up almost immediately, wistfully looking at his impressive weapon that is currently leaning against your wall nearest the door.

“I...I'll never get used to the way you can flip subjects so easily. But yes, I guess. Once you're settled, we will get you fitted with a 'cool ass scythe'. Or at least a decent weapon you'll use to channel your soul energy. I know a guy.”

“You know a guy? That doesn't sound shady at all, but fuck yea!”

He chuckles softly at your enthusiasm.

“I'm glad you're okay with this decision. I really couldn't think of a better way for this to work out for both of us but-”

“But you have a big, sexy brain that was able to figure it out, now you're stuck with me foreeevvver.” You beam, triumphantly.

“I suppose I am, and quite frankly, I would have it no other way.” With a smile on his face, Casper stands, reaches for your hands, and pulls you to your feet.

“Awww, little reaper. Since when did you get so mushy? It makes me want to violate yo- I mean...I could really go for some food right about now. Yea, food. That's what I meant."

“...You really are something else. We will grab something on the way to my place.”

“Bet. Finally making good on us moving in together?”

“Obviously. I can't escape you.”

“It was inevitable, Casper”

“Seems so…and by the way…”

Casper slips his arm around your waist gently, leaning into your ear.

“I'll take you up on that offer of 'violating' me later, my little nightmare.”

“You just want to be stepped on.”

“S-stepped on? What..uh...I”

“The blush on your cheeks says you do. Can't take it back now. Your fate is sealed. I hope you're ready.” you wink.

“Haaa....fuck.”

#help I love him #ahhhh #a date with death #grim reaper #grim #grimmy #oneshot #casper #grim x reader #writing