#too much to look at! too many sounds! so many textures and they were all bad!

[kaijutegu]

I was dissociating in a HomeGoods earlier and the only thing that could snap me out of it was him... Thomouse Jefferson...

#turns out I hate HomeGoods #it was exactly wrong for my adhd #too much to look at! too many sounds! so many textures and they were all bad!

[moonchildstyles]

I would simply die for an Aster blurb about them moving in together and christening their new room

wordcount: 9.4k+

—————

(Y/N)'s body felt heavy by the time she stacked the final box in what was now her new bedroom. She couldn't help herself before she was flopping onto the bare mattress on the floor, her back popping as soon as she laid back. 

It'd been a long day and a half between transporting the boxes, breaking down furniture, and cleaning out whatever she wasn't taking with her in the move. The last step had been spending the morning unpacking what she could and organizing the remaining boxes. Harry was doing the hard work of putting together the furniture they'd just broken down, and setting up the new pieces they picked up to fill out the rest of their space. 

Mitch and Sarah had helped as they could, but they were readying for their own move. Now that (Y/N) and Harry were in their own place, Sarah would be moving in with Mitch in the house, leaving their apartment empty at the end of the month. 

(It had been a tearful conversation when they realized neither of them would be signing onto the lease once more, (Y/N) especially saddened at the thought of the first place she considered a real home now sitting empty. Her reassurance came in the form of knowing Sarah would still only be fifteen minutes away from her new home, and she would be with Harry now—her real home, if she wanted to get sentimental). 

Staring up at the ceiling with her limbs spread out, (Y/N) took in a long breath. 

It was odd already, seeing the differences in the ceiling despite the texture not being too far off from what it was like at her apartment or Harry's old house. Even the mattress under her wasn't the same, Harry having urged them to get a bigger one—even more than the one he used to have. Though the walls were still bare, she already knew how different it would be from either of her previous spaces; more black would be involved than she ever imagined herself living in. 

All the change had her bones aching that much more. 

"Break time?" 

Craning her neck up, she spotted Harry standing in the doorway wearing a small smile on his lips. Though he had his hair tied back with one of the many scrunchies he'd stolen, stray curls still stuck to his temples, attracted to the sheen glossing his skin. No eyeliner darkened his gaze at the moment, but the sleeveless cut of his shirt allowed all of his tattoos to sit in the morning light. 

God, she was going to have to buy curtains soon, too. 

"I guess," she sighed, flopping back onto the mattress. 

Harry let out a huff of laughter, his footsteps giving him away as he crossed the room only to flop beside her. 

He laid in silence next to her, looking at the same ceiling they would be gazing at every night together. 

"What are y'thinking about?" he asked, his voice a murmur. 

(Y/N) swallowed, reaching for his hand between them. "We're moving in together." 

She could hear the smile in his voice when he said, "I know." 

Hearing his own joy, she couldn't help the smile touching at the corners of her lips. "You're excited?" 

He pulsed his hand around hers. "Of course I am—I've been excited since Barcelona. 'S me and you now, baby." 

She liked the way he talked about this change, shaving the nervous edge from her thoughts. Change didn't sound so bad if it meant she was doing it with him. "You'll never have to drop me off anymore."

Letting out a plume of laughter, Harry rolled over to hover above her. Stationing his elbow by her head, he placed his cheek in his palm, squishing his smile as he gazed down at her. 

"I know—you'll be stuck with me all the time now." 

"You'll be stuck with me," she countered, voicing one of the thoughts that'd been floating through her head these last weeks as the move became more real. What if, once the honeymoon wore off, he'd realize he didn't like living with her as much as he'd hoped? 

"Sounds like a dream to me," he told her, readily fending off her unsaid worry. "How long do y'think 's gonna take for you to start getting up early with me, or for me to start sleeping in with you?" 

A small huff of laughter fanned from her lungs. "I don't know—you tell me, because I'm not getting up early like you unless I have to." 

"We'll see," he said, placing his free hand on the soft of her cheek, "It'll only take a couple mornings of breakfasts before you're up with me every day." 

He had her there, truthfully. She loved breakfast, and she wouldn't put it past him to use it against her in an effort to change her sleep cycle. 

Leaning into his hand on her cheek with her eyes matching his above her, she felt herself soften up that much more. "You're really happy, though? No cold feet?" 

Harry's expression leveled out, sincerity in his eyes. "'M more than happy, angel. Really, I've been thinking about this for a long time with you. Get t'have you all the time now—everything feels real now. 'M excited." 

It was the light in his eyes, the way he didn't flinch from her gaze or trail away, that had her chest tightening. His words felt like a vow to her ears. Everything did feel real now—in the scariest, most exciting, nerve-wracking, dream fulfilling way. 

This was all she'd ever wanted, to have a home filled with love and trust. Harry would make that a reality for her, starting with this move. 

"You're happy?" he prodded, thumbing over her cheekbone. 

"Really happy," she affirmed, nodding her head, "Scared, but in a good way." 

He tipped his head as he listened to her, a dimple popping into his cheek. "'S a change, but a good change, right?" 

"Yeah," she smiled, "Good change." 

Ducking down, Harry pressed his lips to hers. Despite the long morning they had picking through and transporting boxes, he didn't lack any energy as he poured that assuring affection through the kiss. 

"Love you," she murmured when he pulled away, lashes fluttering in a blink. 

"Love you, too," he drawled, voice a low rumble just for her. "After I finish putting up the shelves, we can get lunch." 

Maybe it was nostalgia or reaching for something familiar amidst the change that had her suggesting, "Little House?" 

His grin stretched with dimples in his cheeks and bunny-like front teeth on display. "Anything y'want, lovebug." 

She could definitely get used to hearing that. 

—————

"What's next on the list?"

Peering at her phone with knitted brows, (Y/N) scrolled through the list of all the things they needed to pick up during their grocery trip. 

"Um," she mused, making sure she was noting everything they had packed away in the trolley already, "Pasta." 

Harry hummed in response. "This way, I think," he murmured, leading them down the aisles until she saw the many different boxes and bags displayed on the shelves. 

Parking the cart on the opposite side of the aisle, Harry looked at the different options before them with a critical eye as if he were looking at more than just varying shapes of pasta. 

"Do y'care what kind?" he asked, reaching for a blue box of plain spaghetti on the shelf.

"Not really, but," she started, spotting her preferred brand just a few boxes down, "The green box is better." 

Following her line of sight, he found the brand she referred to just for his features to pinch. "Wheat noodles?" 

"Well, yeah," she said, her own brows meeting in the middle with a pinch. 

"You... actually eat that?" Harry asked, almost looking offended at this new detail he found out about her. 

"They're good," she countered, defensive.

Harry shook his head, a huff of laughter falling from his lips. "I always thought those were Sarah's when I was over." 

"Do you not like them?" (Y/N) pressed, popping a hip the longer he stood there arguing with her.

"No one likes wheat noodles, love. You're the first person I've ever met that eats them by choice." 

"They're good!" she repeated, a whine to her voice, "Stop being mean." 

"I'm not being mean," he shook his head, grabbing for one of her wheat boxes along with one of his regular blue boxes, "Jus' didn't know that about you. Next, you're gonna tell me that y'only eat green bananas or plain yogurt." 

When she didn't answer as he loaded the cart with their new finds, Harry glanced up at her with amusement in his eyes. 

"(Y/N)..." 

"Green bananas last longer," she cemented, "And plain yogurt is really good with honey. Don't be mean." 

Harry only shook his head, wrapping an arm around her shoulder as he steadied the trolley with his free hand. "You're cute, angel. That's all." 

He pressed a small kiss to the top of her head in the privacy of their aisle, his smile felt against the strands. 

"And, a little weird." 

Looking up at him with accusing eyes, (Y/N) whined out his name. "No, I'm not." 

"Sure," he smiled, teasing her that much more before dotting a kiss to the tip of her nose, "What's next?" 

(Y/N) hoped he didn't catch the smile gracing her lips when she shook her head. 

—————

Though it felt a bit silly to be so dressed up with nowhere to go, (Y/N) couldn't resist twirling before the mirror in her bedroom.

Her dress was short, a stiff corset making up the bodice while the skirt flared around her hips until hitting the mid of her thigh, everything draped in baby pink satin. Her arms were left free aside from a barely there gathering of lace that sagged over her biceps, a faux sleeve that did nothing to keep the bodice high on her chest. More lace was overlaid on the rest of the dress, threaded with shimmering gold to sparkle every time she caught the light.

It was a dress she'd had for over a year now, having never worn it before tonight. It always felt much too fancy for anything she'd go out for, and much too extravagant for her to feel comfortable in. 

But, tonight was date night. Their first date night in their new home. It felt like a special enough occasion to finally grow the confidence to don the gown, even if she was still a bit nervous that she was doing too much. Especially since this date night would be spent in their dining room. 

Satisfied with the way her hair fell and her cheeks held a dewy flush thanks to all of the cosmetics on the bathroom counter (Harry still needed to finish building her vanity, so until then she was taking over their ensuite), she padded out of the bedroom on socked feet. 

They had almost completely finished packing, only. a few boxes and pieces of furniture waiting. Everything was a perfect mix of the two of them, (Y/N) thought. There was a pink throw blanket over their grey couch, a cherry blossom shaped lamp on their glass coffee table, a fluffy pink cat bed housing a black bat toy. There were photos of them littering the walls, some from their time in Barcelona, but many from the quiet moments they spent at home with one another. While (Y/N) had never imagined living in a home with so much black and other muted tones, everything served as a reminder that this was a home she'd made with someone else—someone she loved. 

She'd learn to live with it, she decided. 

The kitchen was warm as she padded over the tiles, the light in the oven on as she peeked through the glass to check on the lasagna cooking inside. With the extra cheese bubbling on top, she figured—hoped—the dish would be ready in a few minutes, giving her just enough time to plate and serve everything when Harry walked through the door. 

Evie circled her feet as she moved towards the dining table, nearly tripping (Y/N) just as Harry warned her his kitten would attempt to do the first time (Y/N) met her all that time ago. 

"Careful, Evie," she scolded her with a gentle tone, reaching down to pet between her ears, "I almost kicked you." Ever the beggar, Evie only chirped up at her with big eyes the way she had when (Y/N) was layering the lasagna in hopes of earning some extra scraps. "Later," (Y/N) promised her, carefully stepping around Evie, "After it's out of the oven, I'll give you some pieces before your dad sees." 

The table was already set, complete with candles and intricate place mats. There was a bottle of wine chilling in the fridge (did wine even go in the fridge? She'd have to ask Harry later) next to the strawberry shortcake she'd bought from the shops, and the heart shaped speaker she'd stolen from their bathroom was now perched on the kitchen island. As soon as the lights were lowered, (Y/N) hoped their home would feel just as nice as the restaurants Harry loved taking her to. 

After the timer went off, she pulled the dish from the warm oven, basil and oregano scenting through the space. Checking the time, she made haste as she put the finishing touches on the space. Once squares of lasagna were cut out, she attempted to place extra basil leaves atop the bake in hopes of emulating a heart—an idea she'd seen on Pinterest. She connected a soft playlist to filter from the small speaker. Flames danced in the candle votives, warming the space just as he lowered the lights. 

Just as she popped the plates on the placemats, she heard the distinct crackling of the garage door opened. A smile spread across her features.

Harry was home. 

She couldn't contain how antsy she was as she stood next to the made up table, rocking in her spot with her dress twirling around her. Gosh, she hoped he liked what she did. 

Evie chirped at the door she'd learned Harry would come through when he came home, circling and looking up in wait of her dad. (Y/N) sympathized with her energy. 

Harry's heavy footsteps sounded just before the door swung open, his gentle voice crooning as soon as he saw his Evie running out to greet him. 

"Hey, you," he smiled, reaching down to pet her head, "How was your day, hm? Where's mummy?" 

At that same moment, he peered up, noticing the low lights in the house and the warm scent drifting through. She had her hands knotted behind her, unable to stop them from fidgeting by the time his gaze slid over her. 

"Hi, love," he said after a moment, though his eyes never strayed from the neckline of her dress, "What's got you all dressed up? Did I forget something?" 

She shook her head. "It's date night," she told him, "First one in the new house." 

"Pretty special occasion, then. When did y'get that dress?" His eyes finally shifted down the rest of the length to where frilly socks circled her ankles before landing on her face once more. A smile bloomed on his cheeks. 

"I've had it for a while, just never wore it," she shared, swallowing around the nerves that all of his attention garnered, "I made dinner." 

It seemed then that he realized there was more than just her and her dress in the room. She watched as he took in the set up and the plates of dinner, the smell in the house and the candles lighting the room. 

"You did," he said, finally stepping away from the threshold and towards her, "Everything looks wonderful—especially you." 

"Thank you," she smiled, falling into his arms as soon as he opened them. Settling her chin on his chest, she dazed up at him with moony eyes. "How was work?" 

While it was far from the first time she'd asked him that exact question, it definitely had a different ring to it knowing that he'd just come home—to their home—from his first day of work since moving in. 

"Good," he murmured, his eyes seemingly twinkling in the candle light with his eyeliner smudged under his eyes, "Long. Jus' wanted to be home with you and Evie." 

Hearing that never got old to (Y/N). "I missed you, too," she declared, squeezing her arms around his middle, "Did you still have fun?"

"A little," he teased, "Y'were busy today though, hm?" 

"A little," she parroted, growing sheepish under his gaze, "This is our first real dinner that isn't takeout here. I wanted it to be special." 

Tearing his eyes from hers, he looked at the spread on the dining table once more. "Definitely did jus' that, angel. I feel underdressed," he laughed, his hands laced behind her back trailing down the flared skirt of her dress. 

"I think you look nice," she countered, drawing her own eyes down to the ink on his neck, the roses blooming as he swallowed. 

"I look like I jus' came home from work," he said, laughing off her compliment. 

"But, you came home to me," she murmured, unsure of what her point was, but knowing that there was no way he was ever going to look bad when he was coming back to their home. 

His expression softened then, leaving only a single dimple dented in his cheek and a lopsided smile on his raspberry lips. "I did, didn't I?" 

(Y/N) nodded up at him before Harry ducked his head down and pressed a kiss to her soft lips. She could feel her lip gloss sliding between their mouths, surely leaving a stain on his own though he didn't care with the way he slotted their lips together. It was a kiss full of affection, where his hands on the small of her back had her pressed to him. Tipping his head just so, he deepened the kiss with a taste of her lips on his tongue. 

He pulled away first, only after smattering a string of pecks across her pout. He was rewarded with a plume of laughter fanning from her mouth. 

"'M gonna get changed, but I'll be right back, 'kay?" he told her, untangling his arms from around her waist. 

"Okay," she sighed dreamily, reluctant to let go of him though she was able to, instead, watch him walk to their shared bedroom instead. 

He only turned around once to catch her admiring him.

—————

(Y/N) wanted to huff when Harry blocked her from reaching into the water-filled sink for the third time. She settled for planting her hands on her hips, and pouting at the back of his head. 

"I can help, H. It's fine," she attempted to reason with him again. 

As if he hadn't heard her at all, he continued with his hands in the soapy water, cleaning off the dishes they'd used for dinner. He'd already packed away the leftovers of the lasagna and stowed away the remaining half-bottle of wine she'd uncorked for the night; she wanted to help before the opportunity was gone. 

Her pout only puffed out further, feeling a tiny bit like an insolent child when she debated if stamping her foot would catch his attention. 

"Harry," she scolded. 

"(Y/N)," he countered, parroting her scolding tone right back, "I've got it, my love. Jus' relax now." 

"But we're supposed to be a team," she complained, "I'm not supposed to let you do this by yourself." 

At that, Harry finally chanced a look over his shoulder at her. His eyes were tender, bright green against the refreshed liner he had applied when he changed before dinner. The lines of his face were soft as he gazed at her, his lips slightly curling while the line of his jaw held a rounded edge.

"We are a team, baby," he emphasized, wiping his hands down before turning to face her, "You made dinner, so 'm doing dishes. That sounds like teamwork to me, don't you think?" 

(Y/N) opened her mouth before swiftly closing it, unsure of what to say to that. At the end of it all, deep in her chest where she didn't enjoy digging, was that fear that if she didn't pull her weight, show her worth as more than just a little playmate for Evie or someone to crowd the bathroom with all of her products. 

But that wasn't exactly a romantic date night conversation, was it?

He waited patiently as she attempted to find her words, leaning back against the counter with an adoring gaze. When nothing coherent came from her lips, only a sputtering of a half-baked excuse, he reached towards her with gentle hands. 

Grasping her waist over the structure of her dress, he pulled her towards him until she was flush to his chest. Only when she wrapped her own arms around his middle, fingers looping around his back, did he set a careful hand on her cheek. 

Brushing stray hairs from her face, he tilted his head as a small smile touched his lips. "You know 'm still going to take care of you, right? Jus' because we live together now, doesn't change that. Y'don't have to prove anything—not to me."

With a flutter of her lashes, (Y/N) swore she could have cried hearing his words. She melted into his hold instead, enveloping him in a warming hug. 

He knew her better than anyone before, that much she knew. It was enough to have her heart breaking only to grow bigger so she could fit more of him inside. 

"Love you," she murmured, the words muffled against his chest as she squished herself against him. 

"Love you more, angel," he reciprocated, dotting a kiss to the top of her head. Shifting his hands on her, he moved until his palms landed on her hips. "So you're going to sit right here, and let daddy take care of you." 

It was the amusement swimming in his eyes and the lilting in her voice that made it clear he was only teasing, prodding and poking at her to get her in a lighter mood, but (Y/N) only felt her skin heat at the use of that title. It was quite the adjustment to know that he could speak so boldly outside of the bedroom now that there weren't any kind of roommates that could walk in at the last moment. 

In a daze, she stepped back as he herded her to sit up on the counter beside the sink. She was left with her legs dangling with her skirt fanned across her thighs, hands knotted in her lap, and her eyes on his back. The music she had connected to the small speaker continued to thrum through the room, soft and low, creating a soundtrack for the moment. 

It was silly, to feel so entranced as she watched him do something as mundane as rinsing dishes, but that was definitely what she was feeling. 

He hadn't even changed into anything special before dinner, only a black button down with embroidered white flowers and a pair of fitted black trousers. His hair was left down after adjusting some of the curls he'd mussed during work, the length falling longer than she'd seen it before. 

Maybe it was the fact that she could still hear his teasing comment ringing in her ears, or how much she truly had missed him throughout the day, but she couldn't take her eyes off him. She watched as his shoulders tensed and flexed through the fabric, the line of his muscles down the length of his arm. A part of her wanted to reach out, drag her hand down his biceps and feel the way they bunched and released as he worked. 

She felt herself growing impatient the longer he worked through the soapy water, despite knowing there wasn't much of a mess for him to clean up given the limited dishes. Without thinking, she swung her socked foot out and tapped against his leg, dragging over the back of his calf. 

A huff of laughter left Harry's lips though he continued working with only a small glance at her. "Wasn't enough to jus' watch me? Gotta touch me, too?" 

She felt flustered to be called out like that, as if she hadn't wanted his attention in the first place. She only managed a small shrug of her shoulders. 

Shaking his head, Harry put the last rinsed plate into the dishwasher and drained the sink. He took his time drying off his hands before reaching for her crossed legs. Setting his hands on her thighs, she pliantly let him spread them apart before he came to stand between her legs, his hands settling on the full of her thighs with a lingering touch. 

"What are y'thinking about, love? Got all my attention now, jus' like y'wanted, right?" 

His gaze on her features was warm enough that (Y/N) swore she could feel a warmth in its wake, heavy and unrelenting. She blinked up at him, a flutter of her lashes as he grew breathless. "I don't know—just... You." 

"Me?" he smiled, dipping his head down until he was level with her, "You've got a crush on me or something?" 

His teasing was enough to have a laugh drawn from her lungs, dropping her hands to land on his own as they roamed over her thighs, dipping underneath the hem of her dress. "Stop," she giggled.

"Ooh," he sung, "You like me, don't you? C'mon, love, can't hide it from me. So obvious, isn't it?" 

"Stop it," she laughed, letting go of his hands and instead opting to loop her arms around his neck in a controlling hug, "I don't have a crush on you!" 

"You don't?" Harry whined, a pout audible in his voice, "But, why'd y'move in with me then if y'don't even have a crush on me?" 

Hooking her ankle around the back of his leg. She murmured into his neck, "Because I love you." 

His arms created a cradle around her back, keeping her close as he quieted in her hug. "I love you too," he hummed, "So much. Thank you for doing all of this for us, love—everything was perfect." 

Her grin stretched wider over her cheeks, "I'm happy you liked it all. First date at our new house." 

"Still gotta take care of a lot of firsts here, don't we?" His hands on her body shifted then, caressing the structure of her dress, the pads of his fingers tracing the detailing of the lace. 

With the way his voice dropped—and the fact he'd said what he said only a handful of minutes ago—, (Y/N) had somewhat of an idea of what kind of firsts he was referring to. 

The past week had been hectic to say the least. Nothing more than cuddling and a few stray kisses were shared in their new bed, their bodies not having energy for anything more after their long days of making their house a new home.

Tightening the loop of her arms around his neck, she clung to him as she nodded into his neck. "Yeah."

"Yeah?" he parroted, a smile in his voice. Turning his head, he pressed his lips into a string of kisses from her temple down to her cheek, lingering kisses that dragged over her skin. She could feel her blood warming in his wake, her lashes fluttering as her eyes came to a close. 

"Yeah, daddy."

Harry pulled in a long breath at the sound of his title wrapped in her voice, the tip of his nose dragging across her cheek. Finally, he planted his lips on hers, slotting between her own. 

With her arms around his neck, (Y/N) practically melted into him with the broad of his body keeping her upright. She half-expected him to smile into the kiss, a small tease over seeing how ready she was for something as small as a kiss, but he did nothing more than tilt his head and strengthen his grip on her form. 

It wasn't until she felt the tip of his tongue sweep across her lower lip that she gathered they hadn't even so much as kissed like this since moving. She hadn't realized the week had been so hectic as to leave no time for anything more than a few kisses and their cuddling before passing out as soon as the sun fell. 

She hadn't realized how much she missed him until that second. 

Reciprocating his kiss, lips parting and inviting him in, (Y/N) hitched a thigh over his hip. She clung to him with her fingers working into the baby soft curls on the back of his neck in a soft tug. He let out a sigh into her mouth, his hands pulsing on her waist. With her position on the counter, every flex of his hands on her body, she was drawn closer and closer to the edge, leaving her to wrap her limbs instead. 

His tongue ran over her own, the taste of the strawberry shortcake dessert lingering. She could feel the tip of his nose nudging into her own, tracing the bridge with every tip of their heads. The soft sound of their lips parting and coming together filled the kitchen, sounding over the music she still had playing from the small speaker. 

Drawing away from her kiss, he started down her jaw to the column of her throat. (Y/N) tilted her head back, allowing him more access to her heated skin as he kissed down to the neckline of her dress. Her hands in his hair tightened. 

"Where are you going?" she murmured.

"Gonna take care of you, remember?" he said into her neck, the words melting into her skin, "Jus' like I promised."

With that, he fell to his knees before her, settling between her own spread legs. Her hands shifted, now combing the strands out of his face as she looked down at him. His palms glided over her dress until he found the hem, pushing it up and over her thighs to wrinkle at her waist. 

"That okay, baby?" he asked, suddenly breathless as his eyes met the small part of underwear she had covering her core. 

"Uh-huh," she nodded her head, nails catching on his scalp. 

He shot her a soft smile, enough to dot dimples into his cheeks before her attention was diverted to the feel of his hands sitting on her bare thighs. Hooking his fingers into the waist of her underwear, all she needed was to lift her hips just enough before he was pulling the fabric down her legs. 

The way he looked at her then, after pulling the garment off and fitting his hands between her thighs to widen the gap, brought her back to the first night in his office at the tattoo parlor. He gazed at her like he'd never seen her before, like this was the first time all over again. He didn't have to say anything to let her know that he saw her as something special. 

Planting his lips across the inside of her thigh, the tip of his nose and the fan of his breath brought goosebumps to layer over her skin. He dragged his mouth across the sensitive skin, using his grip on her thighs to keep her steady as he tugged her towards the very edge of the counter—and his face. 

It wasn't until she could feel his breath skimming over closer to her pussy that her muscles bunched, her own lungs stuttering. He peeked up at her through the fan of his lashes, matching her eyes for a lingering moment, leaving her with no other option than to watch as he pressed his lips to the crease between her thighs and her core, her body jumping at the tickling shock that touched her spine. With her hands holding back his hair, her fingers flexed between the strands.

She could feel his smile against her skin as he closed that remaining distance, pushing his lips against her clit. She hadn't realized how wet she'd grown until she pulsed around nothing, her breath stalling. His nose mushed against her mound, his lips puckered around her clit in a sucking kiss. It was enough to have her toes curling, eyes fluttering. 

He lingered on her clit, peeking up at her through the fan of his lashes, for a moment before dipping lower. (Y/N)'s throat ran dry as she watched his tongue sink between her folds, a small whine falling from her lips. A light flickered through his eyes then when he peered up at her, though he didn't stop to tease her or pull away to let out a huff of laughter. Instead, he kept her gaze as he skated the tip of his tongue down the length of her slit, lingering over her shuddering opening. 

Her reaction—a choked moan, flexing hands, and shiver down her spine—was finally enough to have him smiling against her wetness. He pulled away just enough, his breath fanning across her core.

"Feel good, angel?" he asked, punctuating his words with a kiss to her clit. 

With her mouth dropping open, (Y/N) wanted to answer, knew she had the words to give him, but nothing left her lips. She was left with a frantic nod of her head, wiggling until she was precariously dangling from the edge of the counter with her pussy right in Harry's face. His brows bounced over his eyes, a smug smile touching at the corners of his lips. 

Expecting another teasing quip, (Y/N) readied herself to attempt to actually answer him, but her mind was drawn completely blank when he only dove back into her folds. His nose was pressed against her swollen clit, her wetness sliding around his chin. She could feel the motions of his tongue through her slit, his lips kissing her in-between each lick. Eventually, Harry couldn't manage to keep his eyes open, his lids falling closed as he buried his tongue among her taste, the tip peeking against her opening.

It wasn't until he wagged his head, spreading her folds around him with his hands keeping her shaking thighs from closing around him, that (Y/N) found her voice. 

"H—Daddy, I—" she choked out, the call crackling and stilted through her lungs. 

The mentioning of his title only spurred him on it seemed. He attempted to mutter something against her core, something lingering and drawled, though (Y/N) couldn't even begin to decipher his words as they were pressed into her pussy. The vibrations of his voice was enough to rattle through her, his nose still mushed into her puffy clit. 

She just needed that much more, she thought, her toes curling at his back. With her hands in his hair, she attempted to get that more she needed, pulling him closer to her core in hopes of feeling him inside. 

Harry's grip on her thighs tightened then, his eyes peeling open to match her cloudy gaze. Despite her hand in his hair, he drew away with the pillows of his lips barely dragging across her sensitive skin. 

"Close already?" he asked, breathless. 

"Y-Yeah, I'm sorry," she stuttered, swallowing around her dry throat, "I—"

Before she could finish her thought, Harry smeared one last kiss against her clit before he was parting her thighs and standing to the full of his height between her legs. She craned her neck to look up at him just as he fixed his palms to mold to the curve of her cheeks, bringing her in for a kiss. His lips were already swollen by the time he sealed them to hers, a taste lingering on his tongue. (Y/N) acted as his crash pad through the frantic shift, taking all of the affection he was pouring into her. She didn't have to see him to know there was a furrow dipping his brows, his eyes cinched closed as he kissed her with the same intensity he had shared between her legs. With the way he was flushed against her, keeping her upright on the countertop, it didn't take much to feel the bulge straining behind his pants. 

Her breath caught. That wasn't something she'd never completely get used to—knowing he loved touching her enough to get his own satisfaction. 

Harry only kissed her harder, this nose nudging against her own. 

When his hands disappeared from her cheeks, sliding down the length of her body, she expected him to wrap underneath her thighs and hoist her up into his arms. Instead, he only lingered on the bare plush of her hips, thumbs brushing the sensitive skin.

"Baby," he breathed against her mouth, drawing just far enough away for the syllables to be audible. "I need to fuck you." 

If her heart hadn't already been hammering into her ribcage, she's sure it would have started then, the vulgar words ringing in her ears. 

Puckering her lips enough to close the space between the two of them, sharing a small kiss, she nodded her head. "Okay." 

"Right here." 

That had (Y/N) blinking her eyes open, pulling far enough away to peek at his still closed gaze. Instinctively, she wanted to protest, to tell him to take her to the bedroom where there was privacy and a locked door. But those were instincts that came before they had their own space, before they were void of roommates. There was no need to hide if Harry was the only one around to catch her in that pleasure. 

When her pause lingered, Harry finally cracked his eyes open, the pupils dilated. She could see the darting of his gaze as he took in the details of her eyes, the fan of her lashes, the shape of her nose. 

"Need me to stop?" he asked, his breathing coming out in heavy swatches. 

"No, no," she answered in a rush, looping her arms around his neck, "Just... We don't have roommates." 

A small smile curved his lips. "We don't." 

"This is our house." 

"It is." 

"We can do this right here." 

His grin grew. "We can do this right here." 

(Y/N) couldn't help the beaming smile that took over her features. Taking advantage of her arms around his neck, she pulled him in for another kiss. It was messy, a bit off center with their mouths smeared across one another, though that was only because she couldn't completely erase her smile. 

"Y'want to?" he murmured into her mouth, his hands on her hips sliding until he was palming the full of her thighs.

"Please," she answered, the word falling from her lips without a second thought. She could only imagine the dimple that bloomed into his cheek then. 

Shifting between her thighs, he tipped his head to trail his lips onto her cheek. "Get me out, baby." 

Her hesitation lasted only a moment before she processed his instruction, her hands sliding from where she had them around his neck. She had the privilege of tracing down his body, feeling the blocks of muscle on his abdomen and the soft pudge on his hips. Reaching the waist of his pants, her hands grew just a bit frantic, fumbling as she moved. 

"'S alright, lovebug," he murmured to her, dotting his lips onto the height of her cheekbone, "Jus' me." 

That was the problem, she wanted to tell him. She wanted him now, and she couldn't make it happen fast enough. 

Unfastening the waist of his trousers, she pushed them down until they hit just the middle of his thighs. She brushed his skin, feeling the coarse hair on his thighs brushing her hands. Peeking between them, she could see the way his cock stood hard between his thighs, the black fabric of his briefs straining around him. 

Hooking her fingers into the band of his underwear, she carefully pulled the garment down, tugging until they were in line with his trousers. His cock bobbed against his stomach, hitting the material of his shirt, with a glistening stain left in its wake. 

Wrapping a leg around his hip, (Y/N) didn't even realize she was trying to pull him closer until she felt herself teeter on the edge of the counter. Harry caught her with a huff of laughter leaving his lips. 

"Careful, love," he muttered, hooking an arm around her waist while the other stayed right on the full of her thigh.

"Sorry," she breathed, planting her hands on his chest though she couldn't keep her gaze off of his length, "I'm just..." 

"Ready for me?" he said, posing a question as much as he was finishing her sentence. 

"Yeah," she said, nodding her head with her fingers curling into the material of his shirt, "Please, daddy." 

She swore she could see his cock jump at her words. 

"Okay, baby," he told her, his voice stilted some, "Hold me, 'kay?" 

Unfurling her fingers from his shirt, she curled her arms around his neck and hugged herself to his chest. His cock fit snug between them, the base pressed into her clit enough to draw a shaky breath from her lungs. Harry's own breath became strained, his chest stuttering.

He held her steady with his arm around her waist while his other slid from her thigh. She could feel the faint touches of his fingertips as he felt around, wrapping his fingers around his cock before lining up with her core. The first touch of his tip against her pulsing hole, her breath caught, her spine stiffening.

Giving her a moment to breathe, he ran the head through her fold. With every bump to her clit and lingering nudge against her opening, she was reminded just how close she'd been before when he had been on his knees between her thighs. She curled her leg around his own that much more, drawing him nearer. 

"Good?" he crooned, the word coming out in a breath.

She didn't even think before, "Yes, daddy," was spilling from her lips. 

That was all Harry needed to hear before the nudges turned into a full thrust of his hips, pressing his cock into her core. A whimpering moan built in her chest as he sheathed himself inside her, her walls parting for him with shuddering pulses. Harry had his own lingering moan that sounded in her ear, elongated and low as he finally got to feel her around him for the first time since moving in. 

"Been too long," he panted, smearing his lips against the hinge of her jaw as she hugged him tighter. 

"It-It's been a week," she told him, stuttering over her tongue as he reared his hips back. Feeling the ridge of his head glide against her and catching on her entrance was enough to catapult her heart to her throat. 

"Too long," he affirmed, thrusting forward, his hand landing on her hip to keep her steady as she was pushed back at the force. "Too long for daddy not to have you, baby. Not gonna happen again, okay? Not since I've got you all t'myself now." 

His words melted into her skin as he kissed down her jaw, his hips curating a pace that had her body pressing back into his anchoring arm. She swore she could feel his head reaching places she had forgotten existed until he was inside her. His base smushed into her clit every time he bottomed out, giving her a jolting touch before he disappeared again in favor of sinking through her walls. She was sure he could feel that jolt just as much with the way she tightened into a snug hold around his length. 

"Not gonna happen again, daddy," she repeated, feeling a bit delirious as she threw her head back, just barely missing the edge of the cabinets as she presented more of her neck for him to kiss. "All to myself now." 

She could feel the huff of his laughter fanning across her heated skin as his lips met the neckline of her dress. "You've got me all to yourself, baby."

Her thighs bunched around his hips, the muscles tightened when he removed his steadying hand on her thigh. She rocked against the counter with every thrust of his hips, the force knocking a small noise loose from her chest each time. 

Curling his fingers around the corseted top of her dress, Harry pulled it down until her bare chest was put on display for the warm air between them to reach. Moving her hands up until she had her fingers dancing through the long curls of his hair, she combed her fingers through the strands as he kissed down her chest with his own hand landing on the thick of her thigh. 

His lips planted a trail over her skin, outlining the swells of her breasts and the line of her cleavage before catching her nipple. The sucking kiss had the pit of her stomach twisting and tying into a tight spiral, knocking her lungs against her ribs in favor of making room for the warmth filling her abdomen. It wasn't a touch she was usually accustomed to, but every now and then, Harry toyed with her body just right to have the feel of his mouth on her chest rivaling that of his touch on her clit. 

"Daddy," she squeaked, her fingers curled tight in his hair, "I think—I—" 

"I know, love," he murmured against her chest, the tip of his nose skimming the flesh, "I can feel it. Y'cum whenever you're ready, yeah? Let daddy have it—I've missed it." 

Even if it was a bit silly—something she may feel embarrassed over with a clearer mind—(Y/N) swore she could feel his voice against her heart, the rumble of his words sinking through her muscle and bone and straight to the pumping chambers. 

"I missed you, too," she stuttered out, her tongue thick in her mouth, "Missed you fu—"

A pinch settled between her brows when she realized what she had been about to say. 

"Missed me what, baby? What were y'gonna say?" Harry prodded, dragging his mouth up from her chest to land on the point of her chin in a searing kiss. 

"Um—I don't know," she breathed, attempting to catch him in a kiss before he pulled just too far out of reach.

Between them, the sound of her folds parting for him with her slick making a mess of their legs sounded within the space, suddenly louder than any soft song that could be playing from her heart shaped speaker. Harry chanced a look down, catching the way his length glistened in the low remaining light with his mouth dropping into a small gape as his breath came out in pants. His arm around her back tightened, angling the small of her back just right to allow him deeper inside. 

"Were y'gonna say y'missed me fucking you?" he asked, breathless as he couldn't tear his eyes from where they were joined. 

Combing her fingers through his hair, she caught the long strands falling in his face. She swallowed around her dry throat. "May-Maybe," she peeped, stuttering through the word as he surged his hips forward in a particularly deep stroke. 

A deep groan rumbled through his chest, his arm around her and his hand on her thigh tightening as he fell into her. His face was buried in her neck, his lips brushing the column of her throat. 

"Will y'say it for me, angel? Please," he murmured, his voice pitching with the plea. 

Had there been anything going on in her head, (Y/N) might have protested, just as she always playfully did when he poked about this same subject. But her head was too full and too empty at the same time. Her only feasible option was to give him what he wanted—especially when he was taking care of her the way he was. 

"I-I missed you fucking me, daddy." 

The heavy groan he let out dripped over her shoulder, warm and rumbling. His own curses filtered through after, his hips still knocking against her own with every stroke as he bottomed out inside her. 

"Never gonna let it happen again, right, love?" he panted, sounding a bit delirious as he began to babble into her neck. 

His bubbling words became the soundtrack as he felt his hand slip from her thigh to head between their bodies. He pressed his palm into her mound with his fingers stretching across the small of her tummy, leaving his thumb to dig right against the pad of her clit. 

"Can y'say it again? Please?" he asked, bringing her back to the moment with decipherable words. 

Her eyes fell closed, her too stimulated from everything to worry about the world beyond the cocoon of their bodies. Every muscle seemed to be bunched that much tighter, pressure leaking through until there would be nowhere else for it to go, but out. 

"I-I'm so close," she whimpered, clinging to him as he mouthed at her throat, his cock twitching inside her, "Keep fucking me, H." 

A moment later did (Y/N) feel the way he shuddered against her, his hips lingering once he bottomed out, only to roll against her. His mouth was in a gape at her neck though no noise came out, leaving him slack-jawed as the first paint of his cum roped out. Though he attempted to keep his thumb on her clit moving, he was far too heavy headed as he rolled his hips into hers, soaking in his own orgasm. Wetness flooded her walls, her insides shuddering as she felt each motion of his cock inside her, hyper aware of every ridge and minute rock of his hips.

"Fuck," he muttered, her first clue that he was floating back down to earth, "I love you—shit, 'm sorry." 

"Don't be sorry, why are you sorry?" she breathed, combing her fingers through his hair. She couldn't help but to wriggle in his hold, her own release teetering after feeling him cum inside her. 

"I—You're supposed to be first," he said, breathing heavily into her neck once the last dredges of his pleasure seeped out of his system. 

"I'm fine, it's fine," she smiled, pulling him from her neck only to press her lips to his, "It's okay, you d—" 

Her words were choked off when he started circling her clit with new vigor, rearing his hips back just enough before stroking into her once more. Though he was slowly softening and she could tell the feel of her walls sucking around him was too much, he didn't do anything other than tuck his bottom lip between her two and work her back to the edge she had been balancing on. 

It didn't take long for her muscles to bunch under her skin, her spine to stiffen, and stomach to mold into a tight ball. Her toes curled from where she had her legs wrapped around him, her fingers doing the same in his hair. 

"'M here, baby," he murmured, smearing his lips against hers in a kiss, "Cum for me." 

With a flutter of her lashes as her eyes fell closed and a bubbling call of his name falling from her tongue, (Y/N) felt every bunch of pressure in her body release. Her walls shuddered just as her lungs did, her breath stilted. A heat surged through her system that felt cold by the time it touched her fingertips and toes. Her clit pulsed under his thumb, her insides tightening around his softening cock and the mess he'd left inside her. 

Harry worked her through it as best he could, letting her take her time in the clouds before every touch became too much for her. Though she kept her arms wound around his neck, she loosened her legs from around his waist, leaving him free to pull out with a slick sound filtering through the kitchen.

(Y/N)'s breathing came in pants as she closed her thighs around his hips, knocking his hand just off center enough to show him she'd had enough for the time being. 

"Harry," she breathed, an aftershock reaching up her spine.

"(Y/N)," he answered just before giving her a small peck, a smile on his lips. 

Hugging herself to him, jumping when her sensitive clit touched his soft cock, she tucked her head under his chin. 

"We just had sex in our kitchen," she murmured into the dip of his collarbones. 

A laugh fell from his lips, loud and boisterous. Arranging his arms around her to reciprocate her hold with his palms pressed into the planes of her back, he squeezed her that much tighter to his chest. "We did, didn't we?" 

"Is that gross?" she peeped, suddenly hyper aware of the cold countertop under her legs. There wasn't much time left before she was sure there would be a bigger mess to clean up given just how slick her core felt. 

He shrugged around her, giving her a kiss to the top of her head. "Did y'like it?"

She answered him in a shy nod as if she hadn't been begging him to fuck her just a handful of minutes before. 

"Then, no, 's not gross." 

Smiling into his throat, she melted into him. Even with the boning of her dress poking into her skin, the way her slick was beginning to cool on the inside of her thighs, she could see herself sticking to his moment for as long as she was allowed. 

"I had so much fun with you tonight, baby," Harry muttered, his voice as soft as the touch of his lips to her hair, "Thank you." 

"I had fun, too," she told him, peeling away just enough to look up at him with moony eyes, "Thank you for wanting to live with me." 

Dimples appeared in his cheeks, his smile tender to match the way he looked at her. "Didn't have much of a choice, did I? 'S not normal to send half of m'heart to another house every night, is it?" 

His corny, sticky-sweet words only served to make her heart bloat and reach for his own as if it could leap out of her chest if it tried hard enough. A bubbly laugh fell from her lips, (Y/N) hugging him that much tighter with her cheek laying against his chest. 

"But, seriously," Harry amended, his voice void of amusement as he murmured against her hair, "Thank you for choosing me—I feel lucky everyday that I get to have a life with you like this." 

Every bit of laughter in her chest waned out in favor of fluffy affection tickling the chambers of her heart. She nuzzled closer to him, basking in his warmth and the scent of his skin. She wondered how long it would be until she had those same notes imprinted on her, how long it would take for Harry to linger with notes of cherry on his clothing.

"I love you," she told him, sincerity dripping from each syllable. 

"I love you more," he cemented, dropping a lingering kiss to the top of her head.

Before she had a chance to playfully argue back, Harry shifted his hold on her, adjusting his hands until they slid underneath her bottom. He lifted her from the countertop, (Y/N) clinging to him with a gasp escaping her throat. 

"What are you doing?" she rushed out, wrapping her limbs around him as tight as she could manage.

A bubble of laughter plumed from him. "We've got to clean up and then look at the damage we left here. Or did y'plan on sleeping in your princess dress?" 

The thought of spending the night in the boned corset without panties or even socks on had a frown embedded on her lips. "No. Clean first." 

"That's what I thought," he smiled, carrying her off with a kiss planted on her temple. 

On their way to the bedroom, (Y/N) laid her cheek against his shoulder, the walls of their home passing them by. Her gaze lingered on the photos of them littering the walls, the memories she'd made with him over the short time she'd had her Harry in her life. 

She wondered how many picture frames the walls could hold. They had a whole lifetime now to share many more special moments, and she didn't want to miss a moment.

—————

ahhhh! im so happy I finally got this part of their story out!! thank you so much for reading, sorry for any mistakes, and please lmk if you have any fun ideas or anything at all :)

#anon #writing #harry #harry styles #harry one shot #harry blurb #harry imagine #harry au #harry smut #tattoo artist harry #harry x reader #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagine #harry styles ay #harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #harrys house #as it was #pleasing

[blueywrites]

you go in then I'll blow

eddie munson x ditsy!fem!reader a smutty sequel to baby can we smoke?

3k

cw: 18+. innocent!reader (not minor-coded), sex while high, oral (m & f receiving), spit, smoking, no y/n, no physical descriptions

fresh out the oven for you guys, here's alllll the filthy goodness.

enjoy! xx

Eddie allows himself one last squeeze before dropping his hand and straightening up to his full height— kneeling, that is, which is tall enough for him to gaze down at you all splayed out on the picnic bench, your legs spread in your tiny little pleated skirt, propped on your elbows so you can look up at him, ready and waiting. He draws his hand up your calf to the back of your knee, hooking his palm there and slinging your leg over his shoulder with a waggle of his eyebrows. He's going for roguish, but it must come across a little dorky because you giggle at him, your wide doe-eyes crinkling up tight with amusement.

He can't be mad about it, though, because your giggle is cute, the sound like sunshine and tinkling bells, and Eddie's just realized how much he likes the shape of your smile. Drawn in, he leans forward, shifting your legs back and open for him with the breadth of his shoulders. You lay flat along the bench, your breath hitching as he comes close to your heat. He could taste you now, and he wants to, but your obvious anticipation stirs the mischievous part of him. So Eddie denies himself and you, turning his cheek at the last moment, pressing slow kisses into the crease of your inner thigh until your breathy pleasured sounds turn to little grunts of impatience.

"C'mon, Eddie," you finally whine, wiggling your ass.

Eddie smiles against your skin, enjoying the way you get petulant when you're needy. "Okay, okay," he huffs, feigning exasperation at your attempt to hurry him along.

Finally, he flips your skirt up out of the way. Looking up the clothed plane of your body, Eddie watches you as he finally leans all the way in and kitten licks your clit, gradually applying more pressure with each stroke until your breasts start to heave in that fuzzy sweater. He wants to keep watching you, keep seeing the different ways he can make you react, but the high makes everything more vivid and potent. With it, he can't help but become consumed by what's right in front of him.

Now, Eddie's whole world is your cunt.

He’s surrounded, immersed in you: the sharp-sweet tang of your slippery arousal in his mouth, the heady musk of your skin in his nose, which whistles against you with each heavy breath when he presses his face into your supple lips, desperate to get his tongue into every hidden crevice. And there are so many contrasting textures for him to explore. The fuzzy velvet of your outer lips. The smooth slick of those smaller folds as he burrows in deeper. The firm, fat bead of your clit nestled into its hood, peeking out further to greet him the more he treats her nicely. The flexing strength of your hole, the futile way it tries to grip his tongue and keep him inside as he teases it. There's so much of your sweet, plump fruit to devour, and devour Eddie does, eating your pussy entirely for his own pleasure.

He dips up and down, licking and sucking, nuzzling and nibbling, entranced by the sensation of you against his face. His mind meanders as he nudges back up again, rubs his lips on the soft grit stubble of your mound. You must've shaved a couple days ago, Eddie figures, imagining you with your foot up on the porcelain rim of your tub at home, bending this way and that as you shave your kitty with a little pink razor. And fuck, that's doing something for him right now. Probably 'cause he's high and also ‘cause he maybe liked watching you— sweet, doe-eyed little you— take hits off the fat blunt he twisted a little too much. You were such a good listener, so good at following his directions; obedient to a fault, he’d thought earlier, and in between dipping his tongue into your flexing hole and sucking the sweetness from your lips like your pussy really is a peach, he’s thinking about what else you might do with him here in the woods if he asks you to.

Soon, Eddie wanders too far, getting lost in the feeling of your firm clit rolling against his tongue. Mesmerized, he swirls it over and over in the same pattern, until the repetitive motion feels so satisfying in and of itself that it’s almost incidental when he notices how frantic your moans have become and how your thighs are now twitching against his ears. 

Fuck, you’re gonna cum on his tongue, aren’t you? He’s gonna make you cum all over his goddamn face. Eddie groans against your sweetness as the hazy realization solidifies in his mind. He presses in harder, sucking your little bean into his mouth and latching hard out of giddiness, hard enough that you squeal and thrash and push against his forehead with your palm. He steals another moment before somewhat reluctantly relenting, unpursing his lips and rubbing the flat of his tongue against your clit instead. Up and down, up and down, steady and firm— just twice more before you buck, boxing Eddie’s ears with your thighs so he can barely hear the sound of your broken, sweetly anguished groan. 

As you hit the height of your pleasure, your hips squirm wildly, unpredictable like an untamed horse; he chases you, keeping up the pressure as best he can to work you through it. Once your twitching stops, and the tension in your body seems to edge over into overstimulation, he steals one last quick, wet lap with his wide tongue and pulls away, smacking his lips at the way the orgasm ripened your taste.

Immediately, you pop up to sitting, a healthy sheen dewing your face and your pink-tinged eyes clear and sparkling. Eddie looks up at you, and with the way the sun halos you from behind—gold along the edges of your hair, radiant like the look on your face as you gaze down at him— something sharp-tender twists in his chest. You stretch forward, scrunched up around your middle so you can reach him where he kneels beyond the end of the bench. You anchor your hand on his cheek and draw your thumb underneath his lower lip, wiping yourself from his face. Your touch is soft but not hesitant, and the feeling of you stroking his face renders him motionless, lax like you have him in some kind of weed-fueled angelic trance. 

It breaks when you take your touch away, swinging around on the bench and hopping to your feet. You try to haul him up by both his hands, pulling hard and hardly moving him until he helps you get him to his feet, snorting a chuckle at your consternation. You flash him a look which is far less intimidating than he knows you want it to be. Amused and only mildly chastened, Eddie follows without resistance as you tug him along by the hands; when you push down lightly on his shoulders, he drops his weight, sitting on the bench in your place. 

"Now your turn," you say, your voice sweet and warm, your eyes gleaming eagerly as they fall to his lap. Reflexively, Eddie’s legs shift farther open, spreading almost proudly to show off the tightness at his crotch. It brings his attention back to how goddamn horny you've made him, and it takes some effort to keep from tugging on himself right in front of you like a creep. He rubs his palms along the rough denim of his thighs to relieve the itch to touch instead.

You start to sink down, and he’s almost too high and turned on to notice how you’re about to dent your knees on the little sticks and rocks scattered on the damp soil, but he catches you just in time. He doesn’t give a shit about his own jeans, but he feels a pang— guilt? Conscience? Some sense of gentlemanliness? —at the thought of you enduring the same.

“Wait, wait.” Eddie’s hands shoot out, catching under your elbows to stop you, and your brow crumples briefly but smoothes when he quickly shucks his vest off, spreading it out face-down for you to kneel on. 

“Oh!” All at once, your fruity scent hits him like a cloud at the same time your lips press a firm, sticky kiss to his cheek. “Thanks, Eddie!”

Before he can react, you’re already plopping down, shuffling forward between his knees and, once satisfied with your position, promptly planting your ass on your heels. And Eddie tries to focus on keeping his composure, but without the distraction of eating your pussy and knowing how close he is to having your mouth on him, the need within him flares, raging all insistent and painful. By the time you’ve worked his belt open, his chest is already heaving, all of him yearning for the moment you’ll touch him. And maybe it’s embarrassing, but Eddie can't bite back a hiss when you finally tug down his boxers enough to free him and his heated flesh hits the cool air. 

You pout, your brow crinkled sympathetically. "Don't worry, Eddie," you say, so sincere it just makes him ache all the more. "I'll take care of you."

You look up at him as you run your fist lightly up his length, and even just that slight touch is like a gut punch. He almost whimpers as you grasp just beneath the tip, your gaze dipping down to his cock as you pinch your bottom lip with your teeth. And it’s when he thinks he might have to beg you to finally put your mouth on him, dignity be damned, that you dip your head and take him in.

Eddie’s palms scrape against the rough wood bench as he grips the edge tight, holding on as the ache in his dick transforms with a surge into a hot flare of pleasure, all concentrated where you've started suckling on his tip like a lollipop. You explore his cock like he did your pussy— licking and sucking and nibbling his heated skin, sometimes dipping shallowly down past that sensitive ridge on occasion, but mostly concentrating your attention on his throbbing head.

It’s feeling really good, and his eyes have just slipped closed when he hears you hum, and then suddenly that wet warmth is gone. They snap open to see your face hovering just above his cock; with a curious tip of your head, you glance up at him through your lashes and ask, "D'you like it sloppy, Eddie?"

Oh. Eddie swallows thickly, cheeks prickling as his dick twitches hard in your grasp. "Yeah," he says, his voice faint. "I like it sloppy."

You smile, appearing pleased. "Okay," you reply simply, pursing your lips and letting a generous amount of spit fall from your glistening lips onto his cockhead. You chase it with your tongue, laving up and down his length with long, sweeping, sloppy motions before languidly taking him into your mouth, bobbing halfway down his length for the first time.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. He can feel all the blood in his body cleave into two paths, some racing up his chest and into his face to flush him beet red, and the rest surging downward to harden him to steel. He’s had sex high before, but maybe he’s higher than he thought ‘cause this is just something else entirely, a maelstrom of burning need coaxed by the heaven of your soft, wet mouth. It’s intense, and he just can't help it. His hips buck off the bench, enough so that, even as he tries to stop the motion, he nudges the back of your throat.

Of course, you gag, coughing around him a couple times in the aftermath. "Sorry, sorry," he gasps, jerking his hips back as you lift your head. It pulls him from your mouth, and his cock bounces under its own weight between you.

"S'okay,” you say, and your words are thick but, to his relief, your expression is genuinely unbothered. “It’ll just make me more spitty, anyways.”

You lean back in, working your jaw to gather the new rush of saliva. Eddie watches, entranced, as your hot pink tongue slinks along his cock until every inch of his flushed skin is shiny and slick from your drooling mouth. He expects you to wrap your lips back around him then, but you surprise him by shimmying yourself down lower so that you're looking up from beneath him instead— the perfect position for him to rub his dick on your face. 

And that’s just— he can’t believe that’s what you want him to do, but clearly it is, because you’re fucking smiling up at him and nudging your little nose against the side of his length, happy as can be to have his cock lying across your cheek. Experimentally, he moves his hips, pulling back so his tip rests against your chin before pushing forward again. Aided by your saliva, the motions are smooth, the feeling of your skin slick and warm and soft, made even better when you open your mouth and kiss at him with your lips and tongue as his length glides over them. You take his hand and lift it, encouraging him to direct his own path, which he does— using the valley between his spread thumb and index finger, Eddie keeps himself pressed down snugly as he ruts against you, working himself up to a steady grind.

The sight of it alone is almost enough to get him there: your eyes fuck-me heavy, your face sticky and soaked with spit and precum, the way the rutting of his cock shifts your supple cheek and swollen lips, dragging and molding them with its rhythmic thrusts. It might be one of the most erotic things he’s ever seen.

"Oh my god," Eddie moans, chuckling in disbelief. "Holy fuck, you're—" 

His brain promptly short circuits when you tilt your chin down and suck one of his balls into your mouth. His hips jerk and fall still as he groans, overwhelmed by the sensation; kindly, you start to knead his tip with your hand, keeping it happy while you lavish him further down. Eddie watches wide-eyed as your cheeks hollow and relax rhythmically, massaging one ball in the hot cavern of your mouth before swapping to the other, all the while dragging your tongue along the underside of his sack in a move that has his belly twisting up all sticky tight and his head feeling suddenly faint. 

His occasional grunts and groans have evolved now into a ragged sound Eddie makes on every exhale, and his moans increase in pitch as your fist starts to slide down from his tip over the rest of him. He can't stifle any of the noises you're pulling from him, nor can he control it when he actually fucking whines as your sucking lips latch to the underside of his cock, gradually crawling upward with open-mouthed kisses until you reach his openly weeping slit.

And then you’re jerking him off with quick little flicks of your wrist, your tongue wiggling against the underside of his head—

"I'm gonna cum," Eddie gasps, hit with the knowledge all at once as the feeling surges up like an unstoppable force. "Oh shit, fuck, fuck, I'm comi—ngh!" The word becomes a strangled groan as the pleasure contracts sharply and then expands outward in a rush of liquid ecstasy. Eddie empties across your tongue, his cum spurting in lines over your lips and up the apple of your cheek, so high it almost kisses your eye.

You're a mess. 

You're so. Fucking. Hot.

When he finally comes back down, Eddie notices you're trying to clean said mess from your face, using your fingers like little windshield wipers to clear your eyes and flicking spit and cum off into the dirt. Hurriedly, he peels his flannel down his arms, leaving him in a T-shirt with his jeans still hanging open, neglected for the moment in his haste to help you. "Here," he says, "I got it." 

You drop your hands, letting them rest in your lap as Eddie wipes off your face, trying to be both as thorough and as careful as he can. It's not perfect— your baby hairs are still stuck down in places around your hairline, and you've got a stubborn smudge of mascara beneath one eye that won't come clean— but the cum is gone, and you're no longer covered in spit, at least. Eddie balls up the flannel when he's done, tossing it onto the tabletop in a crumpled heap to be figured out later.

When he turns back around, you're on your feet, straightening your disheveled clothing.

“That was fun!" You chirp brightly, bending down and pulling up your sagging socks.

"It was. Really fun," he agrees, looking at you for a moment. "I didn't think you'd... I mean..." You glance up at him with that expression of vague confusion, straightening and plopping onto the bench beside him, bending to pick up his vest from the ground. "I just didn't expect all that, is all. You just seem so..." 

He feels a pang of conscience that he may insult you by saying so, but he's spoken too much to back out now. "So innocent," he finishes, one eye squinted in a wince, his lips parted and poised to placate you if his assessment upsets you.

You blink at him owlishly, feeling around inside his vest pockets. Before he can ask what you're looking for, you pull out his box of Marlboros. His jaw snaps shut.

"Innocent?" You ask, tapping the end of the box against the heel of your hand and plucking out the cigarette that popped up with the motion. And he's left reeling when you— sweet, doe-eyed little you— place it smoothly between your lips, reaching over to casually grab his zippo from the tabletop. He barely registers the click and flare as you light up, holding his own fucking box of cigarettes out toward him in offering. 

Eddie meets your eyes, dumbfounded by the mirth there. "Huh," you say lightly. "Whatever would make you think that?"

taglist: @probablyin-bed, @ali-r3n, @them-cute-boys, @themellowyellowmomma, @munsonssweets, @crazycat-ladys-blog, @wonderlandwalker, @vinaluvsu, @love-anonymous-writer, @josephquinnsfreckles

#blueywrites #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female reader

[it-happened-one-fic]

Stuff of Fairytales - Floyd

Author Notes: Happy MerMay Twisted Wonderland! I won't lie, this fic kind of flew together while I was just sitting and chatting with my mom and sister. It doesn't have any specific music that it was written to or anything like that and my only real idea that went into this was MerMay. Nonetheless, I had fun writing this fic. As per usual, Reader is gender-neutral. I hope you enjoy!

Type: Gender-neutral reader/ MerMay/ fluff/ romance implied/ sfw

Word Count: 1264

Ignoring Floyd was always something that one did at one’s own risk. Especially when he was staring quite as pointedly as he was staring at me right now. And even more especially so considering that I was sitting on the edge of the pool while Floyd was in his merform.

He drifted over, and I cautiously met his stare, not entirely sure as to what I should expect from him.

For one thing, he’d been oddly peaceful this entire time. And while that didn’t necessarily mean anything, it still felt suspiciously like the calm before a storm.

He tilted his head, slowly coming to a steady stop right in front of me before crossing his arms and resting them on my knees, where I had my legs hanging over the edge of the pool and in the cool water, “Hey Shrimpy, did your world have any merpeople?” 

His tone was relatively innocent, but I still felt my eyebrows lift warily before I shook my head. Half-surprised by his question even as I answered him, “No… They’re the stuff of fairytales in my world…. Kind of like magic is.”

He hummed, rolling his mismatched eyes up to meet mine as he rested his chin on his arms. Almost as if he were, suspiciously enough, trying to look innocent.

I watched him silently for a moment before finally biting the bullet and questioning him as he continued to stare up at me, “Why?”

That singular word had a grin splitting its way across his face, perfectly displaying his too-sharp teeth that made so many others uncomfortable.

But just like how I’d somehow gotten used to his merform’s slimy texture, I was perfectly used to his sharp-toothed grins by now.

“Nothing~ It just explains why you had such a cute, surprised reaction when you first saw mine and Jade’s merforms.”

I rolled my eyes slightly at his teasing tone, even as I smiled despite myself at his words, “You say that like I was the only one who was surprised. I seem to recall Ace, Deuce, Jack, and Grim all being pretty shocked too.”

Despite my words, I couldn’t deny that I had been genuinely startled. Floyd and Jade were nothing like the fluttery, magical creatures I’d imagined as a child. Instead, they were far more dangerous-looking. Something that was fitting, considering their personalities.

But even then, there had still been something enchanting about seeing a merperson for the first time. Much less two of them.

Not that I was ever going to tell Floyd that. He was already amused enough as it was.

Floyd faux-pouted up at me in an almost playful manner, “But none of them were cute. They just looked like a bunch of guppies silently opening and closing their mouths.”

He paused as I fought the urge to snort at his analogy, and, as if somehow he could sense my amusement, he grinned again. His tail slashing through the water as his eyes all but sparkled at me, “You weren’t like that though, Shrimpy. Your eyes were all bright. Like you were excited.”

I almost sighed at his pointed, pleased-sounding words. Because while I couldn’t say that they were wholly accurate, they were a little too perceptive in a way that I could only describe as very Octavinelle.

Floyd, Jade, and Azul were all practically uncanny when it came to their ability to hit upon something people didn’t want them to know.

“I wasn’t excited….” I trailed off unconvincingly, not entirely sure how to defend myself in this situation since he wasn’t entirely wrong.

Lying would be useless. Floyd was so used to his brother’s slippery nature that he would be able to see through any fib I came up with in a nanosecond.

I didn’t have to rush, though. Floyd was waiting. An amused smile on his face as he waited for me to give up in a rare display of patience from the usually restless young man.

But then, I supposed being patient might be easier when victory was assured. His grin wasn’t making it any easier for me to come up with an excuse, though.

“Well, how would you react if you suddenly saw something out of a fairytale?!” I gave up in an exasperated half-surrender.

I refused to tell Floyd that a slight bit of childish enchantment and awe had shot through me when I’d first seen him and his brother’s merforms.

Doing that would just result in him telling his brother, and then there really would be no escaping the teasing and harassment.

As it was, I would just have to put up with Floyd’s teasing and amusement until he drifted onto another topic. He might bring back up my initial reaction to his merform every so often, but I could deal with that. 

After all, it was only fair with how often I got to pick him on numerous things as well.

At odds with my expectations of his laughter, Floyd straightened from where he’d been resting his chin on his arms this entire time and tilted his head in a thoughtful fashion.

After a brief moment, he grinned, and something ever-so-slightly worrying flickered through his mismatched eyes as he met my gaze once more, “I guess I’d squeeze ‘em.”

Before I could even think about reacting, his arms were wrapping themselves around my waist. Pulling me closer and squeezing me with a surprising degree of care considering who it was that I was dealing with.

I gasped slightly in surprise at both his actions and the cold from his wet arms, my hands flying up and grabbing hold of his shoulders in a slight panic. Not entirely trusting him to not pull me into the pool with him.

I didn’t go splashing down into the water though, and my reaction only caused Floyd to grin even more at me, “Your reactions are too much fun, Shrimpy~”

His words were all but cooed, and I frowned slightly, “Floyd, you know your slime is hard to get out of clothes.”

I scolded him in retaliation, continuing to frown down at him, but my words were met with little more than a nonchalant shrug from the merman, who certainly didn't seem like he was going to be letting go of me anytime soon.

In fact, he seemed perfectly content, smiling up at me from the pool that I was now perched precariously on the edge of. Fully relying on Floyd to keep me balanced as he held onto me.

He smiled, tilting his head slightly, perfectly unbothered as he grinned up at me, “Just use the washer at Octavinelle and tell Azul it’s my fault.”

I sighed at his words, feeling myself surrender ever-so-slightly as I let a smile slip onto my face. Sometimes it really did feel like there was no winning against Floyd, and, to be fair, his plan probably would work.

Azul was nothing if not used to Floyd’s mercurial ways that often caused him troubles. 

I relaxed, letting my hands continue to rest easily on Floyd’s shoulders as I smiled down at him, “Just don’t come whining to me later.”

 He outright grinned at my words, his eyes sparkling in an almost challenging way, “No promises~”

I shook my head fondly at both him and his words as I continued to smile down at the man who hugged me close to him.

Floyd himself might not exactly be the stuff of fairytales, but he was definitely  unforgettable, and there wasn’t a thing I would change about him. 

Even if he could be a pest sometimes.

#Twisted Wonderland Imagines #Floyd Leech x reader #Floyd Leech #Twisted Wonderland #gender neutral reader #fluff #romance implied #merman #mermay #mermay 2024 #Floyd x you #Floyd x y/n #Twisted wonderland x reader #Twisted wonderland x you #Twisted wonderland x y/n #twst #twst x reader #twst x y/n #twst x you #mywritings #it-happened-one-fic #octavinelle #fanfiction #fanfic #Disney TW

[mncxbe]

What it takes to kill an angel

𝑫𝒂𝒛𝒂𝒊 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒍!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

ღೀ๋࣭ ⭑𝒄𝒘: heavy angst, self-harm, intended suicide, blood loss, Dazai being toxic, reader is dazai's guardian angel (quite literally) please don't read if you're uncomfortable with any of these topics

It was a known fact that Dazai was passionate about death, his colleagues going as far as to call him a suicidal maniac. It was mostly a joke, really, no one truly deblieved that Dazai was going to do it, they thought it was some sort of coping mechanism, a mask he put on to keep people away– but little did they know how far his self-distructive tendencies went. No one was aware of the complete shitshow that went down every week in one of the apartments just above Ada's office.

You see, Dazai has never been a religious person, but not too long ago when he was on the brink of death– drunk on cheap booze and almost choking on his own vomit one Friday night– he spotted your shadowy figure at the corner of his eye. At first he thought he was dreaming but when you reached out your hand and ghosted it over his head he instantly felt... better? He stopped slipping in and out of consciousness, his heart regained its normal rhythm and he incessant shivering subsided. Strange, it was beyond strange, a phenomenon he couldn't explain even weeks after.

Night after night he laid awake in bed with these thoughts weighing on his mind– theories and ideas, questions left unanswered. Dazai always blamed his failed suicide attempts on pure misfortune but now that he caught a glimpse of you he was starting to doubt that. Maybe there truly was some higher being that kept him alive, or maybe he simply hallucinated you there. In any case, he needed to know the truth. There weren't many things Dazai despised more than uncertainty.

So here he was again, slumped against his bathtub with his wrists bleeding red– looking, searching for any signs of your presence. The bathroom was empty and cold, the cracked tiles under him covered in a thin layer of grime. Dazai tried to focus on anything else but the pain he felt– his wrists were hot, throbbing, aching but he simply closed his eyes and focused on the shallow sounds of traffic. He conjured up an image of the cars outside, taxis spilling fumes and people into the clammy air outside, men and women in suits driving home to their families to have dinner with their happy kids and spouses and couldn't help but laugh dryly.

Not long after he started feeling breathless, his fingers going numb from the loss of blood and turning a light shade of purple– still no sign of you. He thought it'd be quite stupid to die like this, too... unoriginal, but if that were to be his fate then so be it. Just as he came to peace with the thought and his vision blurred he felt a light touch on his wrists. Dazai did his best to focus his eyes, to see the person before him but it was hard considering the amount of blood he lost. He managed to lift a shaky hand and place it above yours– you felt cold and smooth, lacking the texture of human skin. It was as if he were touching a marble statue. By the time he started regaining his composure and strength your hand slipped away from his. The man cursed under his breath but there wasn't much he could do before he suddenly fell asleep.

The next morning when he woke up the fluorescent lamp above his sink still shone brightly. His body felt sore and he could see the faint traces of scars on his wrists as he looked down– despite all, he was happy. Happy that his suspicions have been confirmed. He touched you. You were real, not just a figment of his imagination. Getting up from the floor he quickly wrapped some clean bandages around his forearms and headed to work. He was late and as usual Kunikida gave him a long lecture about how he lacked the sense of responsability and was messing up everyone's schedule but the man's words seemed distant. All Dazai could think about was you.

A few night later he tried again, this time with a new objective in mine: he managed to confirm your existance, now he was going to talk to you. He sat himself on the floor, slumped against the tub just like before then dragged the thin blage across his wrists. The cut was deeper this time and it didn't take long for his limbs to grow heavy and he closed his eyes again, speaking in a low voice. "I'm not gonna stop doing this until you talk to me". No answer came at first, but his ears started to ring faintly. When he opened his eyes again your figure was looming over him, marble white and giving off a soft, eerie glow. What struck him were your eyes, a pale grey devoid of any emotion. When you spoke"I've rarely met a human quite as persistent as you, Osamu Dazai."

"So you're the one who keeps saving me..." he mused but you knew the meaning behind his words. You carefully traced your fingers over his wrists, sealing the deep cuts and for a moment, Dazai could clearly make out a sign of discomfort in your features. "Your time hasn't come yet. You still have many things to accomplish in life, great things."

"Great things... that's awfully vague" retorted the man. Reaching out a hand he touched your hair and you flinched moving away "I'm not supposed to interact with mortals"

"And yet you save me every time. Why?"

"I told you. It's not your time to die and it's my duty to save you"

"When will it be my time to die?"

"Not soon"

The man smiled weakly, still twirling your hair between his fingrtips "That's good to know..."

Little did you know how cruelly Dazai would abuse that piece of information. From then on meeting you became a ritual for Dazai. Every week he'd bring himself to the brink of death so he could see and talk to you again. At first it wasn't that bad, only minor wounds you could heal easily then leave, but he seemed to have caught on to how your powers worked and his wounds grew deeper: the worse his injuries were, the longer you stayed with him. It pained you to see him like this, but it was your job to keep him alive at any costs.

What was worst, you were aware of the twisted feelings Dazai harboured for you– he wanted your companionship to have a witness to his decay and demise, someone to share his pain with. He wouldn't allow any of his friends to see him like this but it was different with you. You weren't human, so he didn't feel a twinge of guilt abusing the power he had over you– not when you cried and begged him to stop harming himself, not when you told him that he was ruining both your lives and certainly not when you desperately clung to his bleeding body, trying to keep the life from seeping out of him.

No, he felt no remorse. Dazai got just what he wanted. With each time he caused you pain his beliefs were reaffirmed– he was inhuman, cruel, unworthy of being alive. It was a vicious cycle, a dark road that spiraled down into the pits of hell and every week he went down that road, dragging you after him.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈•ﾟ｡

You laid on top of Dazai in the dirty tub, breathing slowly. The man outdid himself this time– you'd seen serial killers go lighter on their victims' bodies. 12 stabs to the gut. You barely managed to save him. You felt weak and helpless as you listened to the rhythmic sound of Dazai's heartbeat. The man ran his hand along your hip, chuckling softly. How could he laugh? How could he possibly be so joyful at a time like this? You've used up almost all your powers trying to save him and were almost as weak as him. Despite that, it was in your nature to love all souls, especially those under your protection, that's why the feeling was so sickening. You were bound to love someone who wished to die, someone who mocked the Gods every other Thursday and held you in his arms only to make you crumble "Angel..." he eventually spoke in a weak voice "How long do I have left?"

That question again, a sour reminder of what's to come. For once, you couldn't contain the tears that brimmed in your eyes and let then fall down your cheeks and onto the man's bare chest. Still, you couldn't lie "Twelve years" you babbled out in a broken voice. Twelve years of this hellish nightmare, 625 possible attempts, getting worse and worse with each passing week.

Dazai sighed, running a hand through your damp hair before tilting your head up to look at your face. Beautiful, you were so painfully beautiful. Seeing you like this, knowing that he was the one to cause you pain, made him feel oddly satisfied. He wasn't alone anymore. He gently cupped your cheek, brushing your tears away with his blood-stained thumb. His touch left a red, smudged mark on your cheek "I didn't know angels could cry"

You simply looked up at him in defeat, feeling yourself break down all over again. "We do, Osamu. We're more alike humans than you may think." "That's interesting..." he hummed, thinking of all those times he wanted to cry but couldn't. Not after Oda's death anyway. He looked down at your trembling body again– the glow you had the first time he saw you was almost gone now, your skin ghostly white and face shallow. He winced when one of his poorly healed wounds reopened and your sobs grew louder as you pressed one of your hands on the gash. This wasn't your usual divine, healing touch– it was the touch of a desperate person trying to save someone from bleeding out. The sheer pressure applied on his wound made him dizzy but it was nothing compared to the pain he felt when he saw the distraught look on your face; your features morphed into a mask of fear and madness, your eyes unfocused, like a deer caught in a trap. And he played the role of the sharp metal teeth tearing you apart.

For the first time since he met you, Dazai had a revelation: he felt guilty. Guilty that he let his selfish desires ruin a pure soul like you, that he was dumb enough to think he could break the laws of the universe. You were right, you were human, more human than he will ever be. There was no taking back the awful things he did but he could start by taking good care of himself and the precious gift of life you granted him– if not for himself, at least for you.

His vision blurred again as he began silently crying and he picked up his phone from the edge of the sink. Tapping a few keys he held his phone to his ear as he ran his free hand along your hip, trying to soothe you "119, yes. I need an ambulance at Ada's office. I've got some pretty nasty injuries that need to be treated"

#i won't overthink this #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd angst #dazai bsd #dazai x reader #dazai angst #bsd dazai #bsd x reader

[moonydustx]

So I have this thing...

I need more Law x Reader fics pleeeaassee (；ＴДＴ)

Anyway...

May I ask a reader (up to you what gender) reacting to law proposing to her? Which I doubt canon law would even do but I guess since it's fanfiction, who cares if it's Canon, right???

OMG, this is incredible, hold my hand and I'm with you on this, thank you so much for the request. In my HCs on the Law (I will still post them) I think if it was important for him to do it without even blinking. Surely it would be something more discreet, a small ceremony between just two? I don't know, I might be rambling too much.

Apologies because I didn't have much time to review and maybe I got carried away writing it. I hope you enjoy!

Important: italics are for flashbacks and character readings aloud.

The proposal - favorite moment (part 01)

Part 02 - Part 03

Law counted the minutes until night arrived, it was one of his favorite moments. That was when you would sneak around the submarine and end up knocking on the door on it. In most of these situations, you didn't get out anytime soon. He's not much of a follower on the calendar, celebrating each month together - and come to think of it, everything happened so naturally that it was decided on which day it started to be difficult for you to be a boyfriend.

Like so many other nights, you found yourself doing what was one of the only things Law could name as a hobby. You were nestled between his legs, your body resting on his chest as you attentively read another book. He found himself leaning against the wall, one of his hands resting on his body while with the other he tried to leaf through one of the new editions of Sora comics that he had picked up on the last island he visited.

He had already lost count of how many times the two of you had wasted hours tangled up in his bed reading and something else he was used to hearing you sniffle at something, like you were doing this time. His eyes looked away from the painting and went straight to where you were reading, just out of curiosity. The other times you were sniffling, he had found you reading about some character who died, some reunion, some couple who got together. This time, from what he could see, it was a marriage proposal.

He already knew it was an important topic for you. He also knew that if he had to choose to spend his entire life with someone, it would be you. Law had thought about the hypothesis a few times and when reading the small excerpt from the book, he let himself think about the idea.

"Wow." your feet were planted in front of an immense showcase. Dresses were stacked side by side in various sizes and textures, some with huge trains and others full of silk.

"Don't tell me you're one of those marriage freaks." Ikkaku planted himself next to you, next to Bepo.

"They are beautiful." the bear confirmed, touching the glass.

"Not freak…" you tried to find the words, you really didn't want to sound like a crazy person. "I mean, marriages are two people coming out in love to the world, to the government, to whatever god they may believe in or to no god at all, as if nothing could intervene or separate them."

"Okay, insane then." Shachi appeared behind you, mumbling.

"Actually, that's a nice way of thinking." Ikkaku replied to him, watching you just shrug. "And I won't deny it, they are beautiful dresses."

"Time to go." The captain's voice echoed closer than you imagined, as if he had been there the whole time listening.

Seeing the crew members move forward, agreeing to the captain's request, Law took a few seconds to evaluate the display that had distracted everyone. He could just be daydreaming, but one day you would look incredible wearing a dress like that along with the new name you would carry. Ms. Trafalgar.

From that day on, the idea of ​​proposing to you never left his mind, Law just needed to find the perfect opportunity and it appeared before his eyes.

"Okay…" your choked voice took him out of his reverie. "That's enough tears for today and I'm getting sleepy." you closed the book, turning towards him and snuggling even closer against Law's body.

"Do you mind if I keep reading some more?" he asked and you just mumbled no. His hand got tangled in your strands of hair and it didn't take long for unconsciousness to take you away.

Law gave himself a week to put the plan into practice. The small room at Polar Tang was tidier than usual however you could notice Law more tense than usual behind his back.

"Everything is fine?" you asked, quickly turning to face him. Law seemed distracted from the book in his hands.

"Everything amazing." his lips quickly touched the top of your head. It was now. All the other battles he had faced had not even come close to the anxiety he felt at that moment. "That book you were reading last week?"

"Ah, it's this one. I'm almost done. It's a period romance, princess, knight and all the little things that involves." you laughed, knowing that from your description he would hate the book. "There's no point trying to convince me to read Sora, this one is much cooler."

"So cool you were crying the last time you read it." he said in a teasing tone.

In a casually planned way, even if it went unnoticed in your eyes, he placed the comic he was reading on the bed.

"It's because he was so sweet to her, made an amazing statement."

"Really? Let me see." He moved even closer to your back, looking for space on your shoulder to follow the written words and find the perfect cue.

"Here. Can I read it?"

"Please." he asked, feeling his hands sweat cold.

"Of all the countries I've visited, I don't think I've ever found a home except in you. You've been my home, my safe haven." You started reading, already feeling yourself melting with those words. At the same time, Law took out a small box hidden behind one of the pillows. "So let me be the sword that protects you, the heart that loves you infinitely. I thought happiness would only find me in the next life until I found myself lost in you. What do you mean by that, my love? So, the The knight fell to his knees, the wounds of the battle he faced seemed not to bother him, not when Annya's eyes rested on him. Annya then heard the four words that carried a lifetime of promises…"

"Would you marry me?" Law's voice echoed alongside yours.

Before you could ask what he thought, a small black box appeared in your field of vision. Inside it, a golden ring with a small heart symbol glittered. The book fell from your hands, finding your lap, as you turned to your boyfriend.

"Law?" at that moment, your voice was not the most reliable. As shaky as she was, your vision was blurred by what you suspected were tears. Your hands covered your lips, still not believing what you were seeing.

"Maybe my sword heals you more than defends you, but that doesn't mean I'll let anyone hurt you in this world. You're my home, my safe haven and I can't wait for you to be my wife. I'd even kneel, but It's a little complicated." he smiled, seeing you still paralyzed on top of him. "So, would you marry me?"

"Yes." the first time came out as a whisper. "Yes Yes Yes!" with each new time the word left your lips, you allowed euphoria to take over your body.

Law took your hand, placing a small kiss before putting on the ring and repeating the gesture, as soon as the jewel was in the place where it belonged. His hands pulled you so your legs were around his waist.

"That's…" you even tried to speak, but it was impossible to put everything you felt at the moment into so few words. You saw him pull out a ring that was the same color as yours, without all the details. "Let me do it."

Before he could put it on his own finger, you took it from his hand and repeated the same thing he had done to you. He placed a small kiss between the tattooed fingers and let the jewelry take its rightful place.

"I don't believe." You looked at your hand and then at him. "Law, that was so amazing."

"You're incredible. I can't wait to see you become Mrs. Trafalgar. My beautiful, smart, a little crybaby…" he wiped away your tears, bringing a laugh from your lips. "My dear wife."

"I love you so much." you cupped his face, taking his lips to yours.

Even though it was full of emotions and promises, it was a calm kiss. Law, like you, wanted to record every second of that moment, every inch of skin kissed, every touch.

In the end, Law was also a marriage nut - just with his dear Lady Trafalgar.

----

Little extra:

Law was never a big fan of public displays of affection, but that morning he had made an exception. Seeing you happy, showing off your new ring and the promise of marriage, ideas of what to do on the date, honeymoon suggestions. He couldn’t deny it, it was amazing to see how happy you were with the whole situation.

His happiness was short-lived when he saw three sullen faces - one of them looking like a bear - sitting in front of him.

"So Law, my friend." Penguin began.

"Shut up, it's me."

"But I'm his best friend." Bepo grumbled.

"What do you want?" he asked, trying to understand what the three were discussing so much

"Which of the three of us will be the best man?" Shachi warned and Law watched the three in front of him cross their arms and wait for a response.

Before he could respond, Law felt two arms slide and lock around him.

"We haven't decided that yet guys. We can talk about it later." you asked and watched them begin to argue among themselves who would be what.

"Thanks." Law muttered, making you laugh. You bent down to his ear level.

"And you, I'll be waiting for you in the room. I got someone to cover my duties today, now I want to continue feeling what my dear fiancé can do for me." In contrast to the whispered and sexy voice that left your lips, you left a chaste kiss on Law's cheek and left towards the dorms.

#fiction #reader insert #one piece #no use of y/n #requests open #trafalgar d law x reader #law x reader #law x you #trafalgar law #trafalgar law x reader

[thebellearchives]

HEYYYY BELLE 💗💗💗 I am so excited to see your requests are open 😍💗 Can I please request Solomon + You’ll always be safe with me 😭💗 I am so in love with the way you write him and this prompt sounds so comforting! Thank you so much 💗💗

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐅𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄

~ solomon ; obey me [nightbringer]

✧˚ · . S Y N O P S I S : even in the worst of situations you know there’s someone who will always be your safe place

‧₊˚ c o n t e n t s : gn!reader, set on nightbringer lesson 11, comfort and fluff, a little tiny bit of angst ~ established relationship

‧₊˚ a / n : aaaa winter ~ !! yesss of course anything for you love, i’m so glad you enjoy my sol shots (‘: thanks for requesting ily i hope you like this one too 😭🫶🏻

prompt list

You stared at the floor, where the faint blue luminescence illuminated its texture. Solomon and Thirteen were nearby, you could barely hear his voice explaining everything that had just happened and Thirteen arguing with him.

Their bickering turned into background noise until their words morphed into white noise. You brought your knees against your chest and rested your chin in your arms, ignoring the slight chill of the magic that kept books floating around this section of Thirteen’s cave. It had been so long since the last time you had lived such conflicts with the brothers, you had spent so many days and months living alongside them that you had forgotten how scary and anxiety inducing it was to be targeted by them. Or how heartbreaking it was now.

A hand was placed on your shoulder, Solomon’s familiar warm voice calling your name pulling you out of your messy mind.

“Did you listen to what I just told you?”

“Uhm, no, sorry” you shook your head slightly, trying to chase away your thoughts and focus on the present “what was it?”

Solomon’s silvery irises studied you, reflecting clear concern. The sorcerer sighed and sat down next to you.

“I’m really sorry you have to go through this… again.”

You bit your lower lip, trying to keep your composure. You were in a different place now, a place where mostly everything looked the same, all of your friends looked and sounded the same, and yet they weren’t. The brothers that loved you unconditionally now looked at you and saw nothing. Solomon’s hand suddenly grabbed yours, your body almost jolted in surprise to his touch.

When your widened eyes went to look for him you found him staring back with a melancholic expression painted on his features.

“You know I will always be here for you, right?” his soft voice warmed your heart “you can always count on me, I will always protect you.”

A knot formed in your throat, you stared at him, that sweet reassuring smile and the way his pearly white hair fell on top of his forehead, charming eyes fixed on yours. The man who had followed you through realms, through space and time, the one thing in your life that remained constant, imperishable.

Immediately you buried yourself in his chest. He sighed, his arms slid around your body and held you firmly, anchoring you safely amidst the chaos, the familiarity of his worn out cologne grounding you back into security.

“I know” you managed to answer, feeling the warmth of his body surround you and making all your fears and anxiety dissolve into thin air, his love was morphine to your pain.

“You will always be safe with me my love” Solomon buried his face in your hair, his nose grazing your temple.

The moment his lips left a small kiss on top of your eyebrow you knew. You knew there wasn’t a single place in any timeline safer than the arms of your lover.

#; fluffy belle #obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me solomon #solomon obey me #obey me x mc #obey me x reader #obey me x you #solomon x reader #solomon x mc #solomon x you #obey me nb #obey me swd #obey me shall we date #gn!reader #gn!mc

[linddzz]

In Which Hob, a Shitty Wizard, Meets a Supposed Demon

Last week or so I made too many posts about what if Hob, still immortal, trying out occultism but kinda crap at it (which is some bullshit considering that Death is his drinking buddy), first meets Dream as the devil in the basement of The Magus Burgess. I called it "the shit-wizard Hob AU"

I still don't know if I'll finish it. But I couldn't stop it from starting.

No editing no betas we post on Tumblr like idiots.

EDIT: very mild editing still no betas we still stupid

********

In August of 1923, Hob Gadling - currently Rob Gedlen- is introduced to a demon.

It is, he has to admit, rather impressive. Or at least, the bonds keeping it tamed are. The prison space is everything a magus cellar should be. All arched, ancient stone and dim lighting that only barely illuminates the painted ceiling. Shadows so deep that even the electric bulbs only give the dark textures of colour. Green algae, the saturated grays and browns of rock, the faded blue and gold of the artificial night sky.

The oily glint of black iron chains. The sweeping ooze of the light over the curved iron scaffolding the chains held up, and the dizzying reflection off of the glass orb held within the iron like a gem clasped in dragon claws suspended over a small, mirror flat moat and an intricate golden circle.

Very impressive. Forboding even. The sort of thing a magus should have in his cellar.

The man inside of it looks for all the world like an ordinary naked man. Right number of limbs, hair and skin natural colors, everything in place where it should be. That's if one ignored the fact that he was sitting calm and clean in a fully airtight sphere of glass. Ordinary, if you were a dimwit and took human shape as a sign of humanity.

“This,” Burgess says with a wicked, bitter sort of pride, “is the Order’s secret of success.”

Hob whistles, because he thinks he should show some sort of appreciation. He's been working for Burgess for a few years now after all, and knows when to look suitably impressed. It is impressive, so he doesn't need to play it up too much when he follows Burgess past the wrought iron gate.

The man in the glass looks less like a mystical secret and more like he needs a coat. He's even sitting with his knees tucked to his chest, delicate ankles crossed in front of him, arms loosely draped forward and black haired head bowed down as if in deep thought.

With his nakedness, the curled position would look painfully vulnerable, were it not for the overwhelming sense that he's waiting.

“He's a demon of dreams. Or close enough to a demon.” Burgess explains. His cane tapping on the stone is the only other sound in that strange space. “I was attempting to summon Death itself, and failed at my task. But I did not come away empty handed.”

Yeah, that's probably for the best. If Hob had sauntered down here and seen Her displayed in a glass cage like a bauble, he would have done something stupid and violent. Best case scenario; She would just laugh at him for overreacting. Worst case; She'd do it with that sad little twist to Her mouth.

The entity Burgess did nab seems miniscule compared to the apparatus around him, to the manor towering over their heads. Yet even Hob and his absolute shit senses for magic can feel how everything is circling the center point of the man. They're all little marbles, orbiting the sphere and the mass within it.

“An incubus?” Hob asks, walking around the perimeter of the moat. His tone is mild, curious, intrigued. It's a talent of his to not exactly lie, but to use some of his feelings to mask others.

It’s a horrible thing, to take the freedom of another for your own benefit.

Her voice echoes in his head. That moment is never far from his head. The sad sweetness of her voice turned sour. The hard disappointment in her dark eyes. He will never forget the horrid, sickening twist of guilt of that meeting, and he feels it when he looks at the demon in the magus’ cellar.

The lights reflect oddly in the sphere, making it seem as if the man himself were the source of illumination. His skin is the sort of gleaming white that poets would froth over. Hob isn't a poet, but even he can tell that “white” hardly does it justice. The alabaster statues a floor above are going to appear dull and crude now when compared to the snow-under-moonlight of the man down here. The shadows of him are blue, violet, deepest velvet black.

Maybe not snow under moonlight, Hob thinks, reminded of the multi-hued winter twilight.

Now that he's closer, Hob can make out the sharply sculpted features of him. His curled body is a lean, hungry twist of muscle that reminds one less of actual flesh than of a tangled metal chord. His cheekbones are sharp and high, his eyes cast down with a sweep of raven wing lashes. The only hints of life are the faint flushes of seashell pink at his ears, his fingers, the still and plush lips.

“If you like.” Burgess says, which means the man isn't an incubus and Burgess thinks he's fucking clever again. The magus is watching Hob now, who is examining the circle, the iron chains, anything that will keep him from thinking too much about the thin form trapped within it.

“I attempted first to gain favors from it.” Burgess continues when Hob says nothing. “But it is stubbornly silent. No matter.”

Burgess has stepped past the moat, past the circle, to stand with his nose nearly touching the round glass wall. Hob stays outside of the barriers, but he is close enough that he can see the hate that always sits beneath his boss’ manners.

“No matter.” Burgess repeats, sneering at his captive. “Found a use for you anyway, didn't I? Just its presence brings power to this place. It amplifies the magic here, makes the spells wrought near it more solid.”

“Not much hope for me then, if I'm already by some magic booster.” Hob grins, and his boss chuckles almost fondly. It had been a whim that had Hob joining the Order. He’d never tried being a magician before, though he had gone to a few seances when they were at their peak. Occultism wasn't too fashionable anymore, so Hob thought it was best to try it out now before it got truly passe.

He's glad he's only been at it for a few years, because he's crap at it. All the costumes and chanting and intricate rituals seem silly, even when he's seen the true results of it. It was just a bunch of nonsense cobbled together from bad translations and old frauds that everyone knew were frauds back in the day! But if you followed the stupid made up rubbish perfectly, sometimes it would result in some actual magic.

That's one of the stupid things about magic. If all you can think about while doing a spell is that you must look like an utter berk, it won't work.

“We all have our talents, Mr. Gedlen.” Burgess says mildly, indulgently. “It's why I have brought you here, actually. You may not have the Gift,” he always referred to magic like that, you could hear the self important capitalized letters in it, “but you’re measured. Resilient. Notably unshakable.

Hob supposed that was true enough. Being in a house with a bunch of wizardy twats who were too busy going mad while practicing the perfect runes took a level head. Someone needed to have enough of a practical mindset to smother out all the fires that tended to happen, even if those fires had colors that gave you a headache.

“I've tried other magicians, promising acolytes, ruffian's from the street.” Burgess continues, sighing with remembered disappointment and gazing hard at the unmoving demon. “They would lose their nerve, complain of nightmares, or they would be too dimwitted to know the sorts of things to report on.”

Hob moves again, still keeping to the edges of the moat, until he is looking at Burgess’ back and into the lowered face of the demon. “You want me to be a guard?” He asks, voice mild because he isn't sure how he feels about that.

“An observer.” Burgess corrects. “You're sharp, though I've noticed that you try not to show it. You don't have a talent for magic, but you're quick to catch onto the supernatural.”

Hob should hope so, all things considered.

“I want you to take one of the guard shifts, yes. But I want to see what you observe compared to the thicker minds my son has hired. I want you to tell me when it moves, how it moved, if the light seemed different, if you felt tired despite the forced march pills you will be required to take. Any sign that it might be trying to wear away at the binds that hold it.

Do not be fooled by it's stillness or fair looks.” Burgess taps his cane on the sphere, making it ring like a perfect crystal. “This is a demon. If it ever breaks free, it will destroy all of us without a thought.”

The demon lifts its head then, and Hob wonders if his heart finally stops. The movement is slow, strange and dragged, a statue that can only mimic how a living thing would move. The raven wing lashes fly up. The demons eyes are shadowed. Far more deeply shadowed than they should be for the amount of light shining off his skin.

Within those shadows, the place where his eyes must be draw all the light in, refine it, refract it back in the distant twinkling of two dim, hateful, cold stars.

“Yeah. I don't doubt that.” Hob says quietly, and the demons eyes blaze in its beautiful, dead face.

#dreamling #new orb rescue mission au dropped #shit wizard hob #my fic

[ahhhwomen]

hellooo, i wanna request some story, this is kinda dark so basically, Agatha H meets Reader by chance and is very attracted to Reader. Reader doesn't know that Agatha has powers. Reader begins to feel watched and then Agatha kidnaps her. Reader is only conscious from time to time and Agatha is like "Everytime you struggle I will numb you with more magic”... so that's it... add some smut if you want 🫣🥹!!

Pairing: Dark!Agatha Harkness x Fem!Reader

A/N: Is this anything like you asked for.... no. Is it also over a month late... yes. But hey, i added smut :) Also, I made this fem reader since you didn't specify, if that is wrong don't be afraid to tell me and I will change it!

Disclaimer: English is not my first language. All mistakes are my own.

Warnings: Dark, kidnapping, use of magic for restraint (*cough* and smut *cough*), smut, edging, smoking, swearing, dub-con  Minors DNI 18+

Word Count: 2.1k

The fabric dampens as your tongue pushes against it, your teeth clutching the white material tightly, and your eyes scrunch as you push down the desire to scream in frustration.

You are going to kill your neighbor.

With one last clench of your jaw, you release the wet fabric of the pillow and sigh.

The digital clock on your left tells you it’s way past your bedtime. Yet, the booming from the redhead’s loud friends makes it sound like you are in the middle of a frat party.

You drag your hands over your face, the pads of your fingers digging into the skin beneath your eyes and pulling. The hackle of feminine laughter echoes throughout the streets of your little town.

It had been like this for hours on end.

With a huff, you swing your legs over the side of the bed, and your right hand delivers a quick slap to wake yourself even more.

If this is how it is going to be; then you might as well make the most of it.

Curling your toes as the surprising electric shock of cold wood quirks your system, a chill creeps through you, settling deep in your spine. The duvet calling your name must be ignored for now, and with that, you make your way to the kitchen.

Smoke tendrils float among the remaining cloud of puff as deep amber lips pull in another sharp inhale. The hot air burns like a delight through her as she sits in her own bubble.

She was so over it, sitting on the porch with her shoulders leaned back and her cigarette resting easily in her right hand was the first break she had gotten all night, these girls are loud. And not the fun kind.

Hyena cackles pierce her ears as one of Wanda’s many friends tells another miserably boring joke on the other side of the, thankfully, closed door.

“For fucks sake ladies, it’s not that funny” She mumbles to herself as the rest of the women join in on the animalistic laughter, this is the downside of having ears and eyes everywhere, she supposes.

Her right ring finger taps the side of the burning stump, the texture familiar and soothing. Pieces of ash fall like snowflakes, clustering in a pile beside leather boots.

She is just about to stomp the thing out when one of the neighbor’s front door opens with a little too much force. Wood crashes against wood, the planks behind the heavy thing indenting and chipping the paint, as the door slams into the sidewall of the suburb house.

A young woman curses herself as she looks at the damage she caused while trying to balance the multitude of trash bags she is clutching.

With an amused smirk, the older woman leans forward, tilting her body to get the best view of the younger thing. Her blouse shifts and bunches where the silk is hastily stuffed into dress pants worth half of your rent.

You groan as you feel a pair of eyes study you from afar. People these days.

With a puff of air, you blow away the small whisk hairs that cling to your sweaty forehead, “You know, it wouldn’t hurt you to help a girl out.” You turn around to what you assumed was going to be just another one of Wanda’s familiar friends.

She had people over almost every weekend, so some faces were hard to forget, however, when you finally lock eyes with the rude woman, she is nothing like you expected.

With her head thrown back in an almost cruel laughter, you can see the wide expanse of her neck, dark hair falls freely in subtle waves. In one of the hands, the older woman clutches the outer plank of the porch, while the other one grips an almost burned-out cigarette.

You shift from one foot to the other, the weight of trash in your hands almost forgotten as you can’t help but admire her for a moment.

Yeah, she is nothing like the redhead’s other friends at all…

You almost startle as a teasing voice responds to you with delight, “Oh, you are a fun surprise sweet plum.” The woman crushes her cigarette under sturdy black boots, the sizzle of burning leaves dying out much like the flame.

You simply stare at her, even her voice is so different from the other women around these parts.

She struts toward you with confidence even a man couldn’t muster.

Frozen on the spot you would barely notice when she takes two-thirds of the bags if it wasn’t for the way her fingers so deliberately brush against yours. You don’t dare look down, but as you feel cool metal against your warm skin, you know her fingers are decorated with only the best.

“Excuse my bad manners, let me get that for you, honey.”

Her lip lifts into a mean smirk, and the hint of wrinkles just makes her all the more alluring. You can’t tell if you want to drown in her eyes or run away from them as fast as possible.

She is already halfway down your driveway before you can get a peep out, and you follow with haste.

Throwing both yours and her trash into your big bin at the end of the driveway she asks you if you would like to join her for a smoke, you can tell by the repressed giggle that she doesn’t think you will take her up on it.

Which only makes it all the sweeter when you get to surprise her with an easy, “Yes, I would love to.”

For a moment she is the one frozen to the pavement as she studies you, her eyes squinting as if she believes you to be joking. Her eyes travel up and down your younger frame, pausing for a moment on your chest, but you decide that you probably imagined that bit.

Wishful thinking or whatnot.

A soft tongue swipes across dark red lips before the mysterious woman regains her composure and laughs with mirth, drowning out the other ladies, you can’t help but think she looks beautiful when she laughs like that. All, carefree and happy.

She tilts her head toward you, her hands letting go of the bin´s handle and instead reaching out for you to take,

“Well then sugar, I'm Agatha.”

You take it with as firm of a grip as you can manage, “Y/n.”

That’s how it started, with a cloud of smoke surrounding the both of you while you share silly stories from childhood.

And that was the end of it too, she was funny and sassy, but she never came over much to the Maximoff house, so you figured that would be the end of your little connection.

How naïve you are.

There is audible whining as the deep magic slides against your body, it holds your torso and legs tight against the comforter. You try and free yourself with grasping hands but with a quick turn of the older woman’s delicate wrist the magic shifts and turns until it takes ahold of your wrists and pins them down beside your head.

“Don’t be like this baby…” A smooth voice slithers itself into the vast expanse of your mind, almost like she never said it out loud, just forced it into your thoughts.

The sheets rustle as you wring and struggle. The purple void closes in, tightening around you, forcing you still.

You feel numb as your limbs give in to the older woman.

“Good girl. That’s it, baby…” Your eyes feel heavy, and you can’t seem to keep them open. You feel a warm breath against your midsection as the words glide over warm skin.

Before you can comprehend who, the voice belongs to, the tendrils vibrate against you in excitement, and you gasp for air as they close in on the delicate spot between your legs.

You can’t help the moan that escapes you as one of the stronger tendrils drags itself in an up-and-down motion against your sensitive clit.

You can’t even recall when you stripped your clothes, but the purple sorcery delights in it. The feeling is almost like pure lust submerging itself within you.

It crawls up your body, one sticks to that sticky spot between soft thighs, while the others spread against you. Like wildfire, they spread and absorb your every thought. One of them settles like a set of warm hands against your bare chest. Teasing taught nipples.

Another one forces your mouth open, and slides against your tongue, firming into the feeling of ghost fingers. They drag gently over your lips when they are coated enough.

Then it drifts lower as the one against your clit speeds up.

Your back pulls like a taught string, if this doesn’t let up, you will break soon. The purple tendril against your pulsating weak point hardens. You gasp for air, and finally, you can breathe, the continuous assault against your body is now over, and you relax a little into the sheets.

“Oh fuck!”  Your eyes roll to the back of your skull.

You let out a breathy whine as the purple mystery is replaced by the feeling of wet fingers pushing into you. They force their way past your lips and enter you without any problem.

Another moan fills the heavy air, but this one isn’t from you. It’s deeper, passion laid within it like an accent.

“That’s it, honey, hop like a bunny for me.” When the feeling of cruel eyes prickles the back of your neck, you finally make the connection.

You wake up with a gasp, hands clutching the sheets like your life depends on it.

Your eyebrows scrunch together as you huff in annoyance, if you were going to keep having these dreams, they may as well let you finish. With your eyes still closed, one of your hands releases the smooth silk and glides down your bare stomach, then you stop to a halt.

Placing your hand back on the soft material you open your eyes in wonder, you most definitely do not own silk…

The first thing you see when your senses return to you is expensive sheets, in a deep purple shade, then as your eyes wander your heart races.

This is not your house.

“Ah, you are finally awake.” You startle as the feminine voice calls out to you from across the room.

“That was a close one wasn’t it honey? You are dripping all over the sheets.” Agatha sits in the armchair in front and center of where you lay gasping.

Her legs crossed; she cradles a cup of tea in her left hand. Narrow eyes study you as you scramble to cover yourself only to find that you can’t move any longer.

The deep purple is back as your wrists get pushed back into the bed. The mattress hugging you close as the purple weight of restraint takes hold of you yet again.

The chuckle that escapes Agatha is cruel and unstoppable, it builds within her, crawling up her stomach until she can’t help but voice it. She can see the realization dawn all over your face, the feeling of eyes in the back of your neck, the strange dreams, the never-ending teasing of naughty dreams for her own pleasure.

The lack of memory, the restraint deep within your bones, all because of this woman.

After your little meeting all those weeks ago you had heard stories about her, the rumors, the purple aura that seems to follow her everywhere she goes. However, not once did you believe the petty gossip of the redheads’ other friends, that was your first mistake.

Now you understand, they were all true.

After all…

It was Agatha all along.

And as she pushes herself into your mind yet again and forces you into yet another dream that will keep you just on the edge, Agatha Harkness is one wicked witch.

#agatha harkness x reader #agatha harkness #dark!agatha harkness #dark!agatha harkness x reader

[cupidddd-d]

and i'm hating myself because you don't want to

in which he can't help but wonder why you chose him

he went by many names. tartaglia. childe. the eleventh harbringer.

and ajax. the only name truly close to his heart. you were the only person outside of his family to ever call him that, and it sounded far too sweet coming from you.

you spoke to him as if you didn't know what kind of unforgivable things he had done. every word that fell from your lips was so saccharine that for a moment-- only a moment, he allowed his eyes to flutter shut and enjoy you fully without remorse or hesitation.

he allowed himself to believe that he truly deserved you, that he lived in a world in which he was worthy of you. but that world didn't exist. it never would, but he could dream. he could dream while he basked himself in the sunshine of your lovely voice, memorizing the way you felt in his arms.

but cruel reminders of his reality turned the dream into a nightmare. the scars on his hands that made him feel ashamed to even touch your soft, unblemished skin. the blankness and cruelty in his eyes that never deterred you. the summons from the fatui that cut his time with you short.

you were too good, too pure, and yet he allowed himself to revel in your presence. greedily accepting your love even if he was undeserving. selfishly keeping you for himself, even if there were so many others that came without the baggage.

he played with your fingers as he laid in your lap, their smoothness so different from the texture of his own scarred ones, weathered from the decades of practicing weapons.

"ajax, you're being quiet again." you said softly, a fond smile on your face as you look down at him.

"am i?" he couldn't help the twitching of his lips at the sight of your smile.

you were too bright, too good for him. if you were the sun, he was the black hole looming over the solar system. if you were a flower, he would be the weed that stole all of the soil's nutrients to itself. you didn't see it yet, but he did. he would be your undoing. he would be the cause of your painful end. but he still couldn't bring himself to let you go. "what's going on in your head, huh?" you grinned, soft fingers carding through his hair.

"why....why did you choose me? why me? why....why do you love me?" and he finally spoke, his insecurities finally confirming their existence.

"that's a stupid question," you poked his forehead as if you couldn't believe the words coming from his mouth. "why wouldn't i love you? you're so easy to love, so of course i'd fall in love with you. i mean, you're gentle, you're kind, and you treat me well. what's not to love?" you speak plainly, as if it was so simple.

"but i almost destroyed your home," he looks at you with those sad blue eyes of his, and your heart cracks a little at the fact that he's been internalizing this despair for so long.

"yeah, and i love you despite all that. doesn't that say a lot about how much i truly care about you?" you say softly, not realizing the way those few words healed him.

he doesn't say anything, and you don't acknowledge the way his eyes well up with tears.

"i love you, you know that?" you trace the lines of his face, your fingers delicately smoothing across the slope of his nose and the arch of his eyebrows.

your eyes are so loving it makes him want to rip his heart out and present it to you, saying, "here it is. it's yours. it was only ever yours. to own, to break, to love, my heart beats only for you."

but he doesn't do that. he just stares up at you, and in that moment, he actually feels like he might be someone worthy of your love.

#gender neutral reader #gn reader #angst #fluff #hurt/comfort #genshin impact #genshin #childe x y/n #childe x you #childe x reader #fatui harbringers #genshin harbingers #liyue harbor #harbringers #tartaglia x y/n #tartaglia x you #tartaglia x reader #ajax x y/n #ajax x you #ajax x reader #ajax

[saigawrites]

"The moon sent you to me."

In which, you get isekaed to genshin, and a certain character comes to your rescue!

Platonic! Wanderer x reader

Tags : fluff, angst (if you squint), comfort, just basic kind feelings.

Warnings : mentions of abandonment, trauma.

Part two part three

Sweet hums and light breathes escaped your form as you napped peacefully. The dreamworld was embracing you tight in it's hands, not even thinking of letting go. That is, until a certain feeling deep down in your pit yelled at you to stand up. Something was quite out of the norm, but you couldn't guess what with your eyes closed. So, rubbing around the area of your eye sockets, you, slowly sitting up, blindly touched the ground and realized you weren't at home.

You worriedly shot your eyelids open. All that you could see around was abruptly unrealistic graphics of nature. Something that you would probably see in a video game. Video game... Hey. This is kinda familiar. Where have you seen this type of textures?... You got into a video game? How is this even possible? Too many questions have flooded your mind. Such a stressful situation and environment that you just simply can't comprehend any of this.

Another thing that you noticed here was that you still looked how you used to look. In simple terms, you were realistic, while the area around you was drawn-like. You felt numb and completely disoriented inside. The frustration of this setting was boiling up even higher. Great, now you might get killed for your looks. Because you don't really think video game characters could handle a creature with that level of detail.

Letting some stress and cries of despair outside was soothing enough for you to now stand up and pull your shit together. It's not like you're going to just die here, right now. No, you have to fight. You have to survive. So, you decided to explore the area a bit, gaze at the colourful leaves of the blurry trees and bushes. Carefully, step by step, you studied the environment up n down, and now were fully ready to go even deeper into the forest you thought would lead you somewhere.

Walking forward in the greenery, you noticed little details that indicated even more that you were in an imaginary world. Unrecognizable, extremely bright fruits and vegetables were growing and sprouting all over the place. Cutesy, simplified, plush-like animals were surrounding you, being way too friendly for an actual animal. You turned your head towards the direction you were going, distracting yourself from the little bird's affection.

The sound of slow, calm paced sea waves filled your ears. Your gaze fell on the round hole between the trees, where an astonishingly beautiful beach peeked out. The atmosphere of the water surface was tugging and pulling you in harshly, making you dazed in it's charms. Your body moved involuntarily, swiftly exiting the forestry to be met with the warm sand of the coast. You sat on the surface of the glowing yellow ground, bringing your knees close to your chest and hugging yourself tight.

The sight of the sky-blue water flowing back and forth made you feel an aching inside. You didn't feel comfortable wherever you were at all.

You missed your homeland.

The quiet sound of footsteps distracted you from your homesick daze. You flinched harshly, freezing in place as fight or flight syndrome settled within you. With your whole body sweating, you slowly turned your head in the direction the sound came from. Gulping a handful in your throat, you managed to get an appearance scan of the newcomer. White, blue and purple beamed in his color pallet, and ridiculously big and exaggeratedly complex clothing made your stare relevant on him.

The difference between you and him was indescribable. While he lacked basic textures, you were covered from head to toe in them. You didn't have that much of complicated clothing as he did, but you still looked way more full than he could ever. Though, he blended in the environment well, while you made an impression that you were a literal alien on this land. The expression on his face was one of a dazzled, beyond words confused and lost. He had to blink and even rub his eyes a bit to adjust to your picture.

You knew where you saw his familiar form from. The popular game in your world, Genshin Impact. You supposed he was named... Wanderer? Scara- Scarapooch? Scarasouche? Whatever his name was, it did fit with his appearance. With the realization you haven't felt a sense of relief, though. He was still dangerous, even if he is just a bunch of pixels. So, you were on alert if he decided to try anything.

Little did you know, the man in question didn't even form a thought of intending to inflict harm upon you. Even the opposite, he wanted to help you. The moment he saw your form sitting by the beach, the painfull memories of his past flooded his mind. He didn't know why you reminded him of him. Maybe because of the lost expression on your face? The surrendered sitting pose, showing vulnerability to the unfamiliar world around? The craving and desirous sad stare at the unwelcoming landscape in front?

Whatever it was, his inner urges didn't seem to care about those facts enough, as he rushed towards your direction with a worried expression. Seeing just how out of this place you were, he knew you would face the same treatment as he had. And he didn't want that. He didn't want anyone to go through the torture and the pain he experienced. He might seem uncaring and unbothered to some, but he is sure the antonyms of those terms regarding someone like you. Abandoned, lost, betrayed, thrown away after used.

He couldn't stand seeing yet another person turn out like him. In order to prevent that, he sat up on one of his knees and held out his hand for you. He wanted to save you. To see you grow happily and experience a healthy life. He simply smiled at you, with half closed eyes in a relaxed state. He didn't want to scare you away, how he seemed to do with others. He felt pity towards you, at how you raised your hands when he came close, at how you looked around unsure when he held out a hand for you to grab. His chest became warmer when you hesitantly took his hand.

No matter who you are, how you came here, he will make sure to give you a kind treatment, even if it required to lower his ego. He will make sure you are safe and sound in his arms, relaxed and pleased with your state.

Ahhhh, this was LONG, and I'm sorry 😭. Also sorry if the writing is too flowery, I'm too lazy at this point to edit it😶.

#genshin x reader fluff #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x reader fluff #scaramouche x reader #scara x reader #isekai #genshin isekai #genshin impact isekai #wanderer x reader #genshin wanderer #wanderer x y/n #scaramouche x you #wanderer x you #scaramouche x y/n

[shadow4-1]

Interchange - Call of Duty BodySwap/UniverseSwap!AU (SFW)

(A mission goes awry and you end up in a place quite dissimilar from your own.)

“Johnny no!”

You threw your entire weight against him, throwing him off balance. With a gasp he fell off the metal platform backwards, his gun clattering loudly to the ground. You fell with him, hitting your knees against the grating, still atop the platform. You tried to crawl off the edge but it was too late.

A bright, swirling heat began to emanate from the sensors above you. They bathed both you and Johnny in an alien light. You winced, almost completely unable to see the man in front of you. He tried to stand but he wasn’t quick enough to even get up on his knees. Somewhere in the room Price was screaming your name.

Something told you that whatever was about to happen was going to hurt.

You called down to Johnny over the few feet between you. You got one last good look at his bright, now scared, eyes.

“I’m so sorry.”

The white light that had enveloped you faded away enough for you to see.

You blinked and blinked at the white spots still dancing in your eyes. You were still on the metal platform, nearly hanging off the edge. You could breathe again and so you greedily panted in the warm air. A trickle of sweat dripped down your brow and you blinked it out of your eyes.

“Ay, love!” Johnny yelled, now on his feet. “C’mere, I go’ ye.”

Your ears were still ringing from the loud hum of whatever energy had been released. Johnny sounded like he was talking through a filter. You tried to look down at his face but everything was still hazy. You reached an arm out to him and he took it. Uncharacteristically, he jerked your entire body forward, causing you to fall off the platform.

Something was off.

Instead of falling to floor, you managed to easily right yourself midair and land on your feet. You felt lighter, more agile, than before. It felt like maybe you’d lost fifty pounds except, well. You patted your hip curiously. You most certainly hadn’t lost any weight.

“Y’ broken?” Johnny asked again, his voice rougher than before. He patted the same section of your hip and you winced from his sudden touch. Even through the white haze still filling your vision you could still see his eyes widen in pure concern.

“Wh-Johnny!” You squealed. He hoisted you up in his arms and began to run at full speed for the exit.

Men were yelling and screaming at each other while attaching explosive charges to the metal equipment in the room. You blinked, and the texture of everything in the makeshift lab seemed far too grimy. The place had been spotless a second before the machine had gone off.

“J-Johnny…” You mumbled, feeling your stomach began to twist in knots.

Something was wrong. Something you couldn’t put a finger on.

“We’re almost out, love.” He panted, still running, both of your kits clinking with each footfall. “I go’ ye. I go’ ye.”

He kicked open a door with decidedly too much ease. Judging by how many men were swarming around tactical equipment and hurriedly loading up convoys you realized this had to have been the port of operations you’d come in from.

Except…everything was completely wrong.

The tactical gear the men wore were old, several iterations old in fact. The last time you saw that shade of camo had been on your father in one of your earliest memories. Most of the tech they were packing up was also older, and completely obsolete by your standards. Hell, one of the technical pads a man was holding, you’d played with as a kid. Even the convoy trucks were dated and beat all to hell.

You began to hyperventilate. This was wrong. You weren’t supposed to be here. Where were you? It was like before but not.

“‘Ey, easy now.” Johnny breathed, placing you down next to a truck. You leaned back against it for support. You looked down at your shoes.

Nothing you wore was as it had been before. You too were decked out in old fashioned fatigues with shit versions of your nice toys stashed into the pockets of your kit. Out of desperation, you tried reaching for your dad’s pocket knife.

“Woah! Easy there, love!” Johnny huffed. He grabbed your hand out of your pocket and pushed you up onto the hood of the truck. The way he touched you felt far too intimate for your liking. You tried to fight him but he was far too strong. “Hit yer head too? Y’ feelin’ alright? Y’ know m’ no’ gonna hurt ye, love.”

The white haze was thankfully beginning to clear up.

Despite your clearing vision, everything still looked wrong. The room was darker, dingier, and all around not the way it had been before. You tried to look around Johnny to see more but he grabbed your face in one of his hands. He forced you to look up at him.

“Look a’ me.” He demanded.

You did, and you gasped.

He was Johnny, it was no doubt about it. The same breadth of his shoulders, the same freckles and lashes and jawline. But he was different. Instead of the usual, almost baby face of your colleague, this man was chiseled with more pronounced cheekbones and slightly fuller lips. An unfamiliar scar ran down the left side of his face. He still had the same haircut and facial hair, although it was better maintained, slicked down and trimmed closer to military standards. The scent of him was still peppery and warm.

This Johnny used his gloved hand to pull down your bottom eyelids to get a good look at your eyes. He must’ve seen something that worried him.

“Oh no. No no no.” He tutted, his same blue eyes slanting in that way he did when he got nervous. The only difference were the heavy bags circling his lower lashes and turning into small, very uncharacteristic wrinkles.

“Garrick!” This Johnny screamed. “Medical now!”

“Johnn-”

“Yer gonna b’ fine, love. I promise.” He huffed.

With that, he took a quick glance around. Deciding the coast was clear he leant down to peck a soft kiss to your lips. He did it so quickly you almost didn’t even recognize the gesture. He’d made sure his body covered yours so that no one saw him do it either.

“Johnny what the fuck!” You squeaked, feeling complete caught off guard.

While you’d fucked around with him before, it’d always been under the watchful supervision of your lieutenant. After all, you were Ghost's, first and foremost. It was nothing official, but Johnny new better than to cross your superior by going behind his back and kissing you.

You tried to push him away but he had no give. An intense emotion of hurt washed across his face but it was quickly replaced with complete concern.

“GARRICK!”

“Aye, sir!”

You spotted a familiar figure trot over. He was dressed from head to toe in tactical gear, but you could recognize that blue hat anywhere. You began to sob and reach for him. Thank God, it was Gaz. He could probably tell you everything that was going on.

“Gaz!” You cried out, feeling delirious. “What’s going on, mate? Where am I?”

The man stopped dead in his tracks. He pulled off his goggles to get a better look at you. Come to think of it, you’d never seen him wear those before. You blinked away the haze. He was wearing a balaclava and he wasn’t wearing kohl. The skin surrounding his eyes, not covered by fabric, was a tan shade of pink.

That wasn’t Gaz.

You screamed bloody murder.

Before Johnny could grab you, you threw your entire weight backwards. Because of your newfound agility you had no issue in falling over the hood of the truck and landing on your feet. You were still screaming, even as you began to take off in a sprint. You chose a direction and ran.

No. No. No.

This was wrong. Everything was off.

These men you knew were imposters. It was them but it wasn’t them. This was some kind of cruel mindfuck.

You were sobbing and screaming and all noise was suddenly cut out at the source. You were jerked back so roughly the air was knocked out of your lungs. You tried to gasp for air, but a broad arm had wrapped itself around your throat. You choked, your legs began to buckle. Black spots began to form in your vision.

“M’ sorry, love.” This Johnny huffed, his voice breaking with emotion. He continued to choke you out until you faded into complete unconsciousness.

“M’ so sorry.”

#cod imagines #john soap mactavish #mw2 headcanons #captain mactavish #call of duty x reader #soap imagine #soap x reader #soap mactavish

[ttoddii]

in the water

pairing(s) – bada lee x f!reader

genre – angst to fluff

warnings – unrequited love, howl (i mentioned him once i promise), messy story, bad grammar, lowercase intended.

wc – 1.5k

a/n – i need to reset my mood after i wrote so many smut fic and hcs, so this is an attempt to get all my emotions back in check before i start writing for weaving fate. i know this is not the best and all the descriptions and plot are so so messy, and i sincerely apologize for that. i hope you enjoy.

taglist (OPEN) – @missminho; @taniio; @vvsbada; @krissysays (comment under my posts to be add/remove)

the salty air wrap your body in its embrace as you walk on the beach, one of your hand holding your shoes as you let your feet feel the sandy texture, your body weight make the sand shrink a bit as you look down at your footprints.

you could hear the sound of waves crashing down on the ocean surface as you slowly walk into the water, giggling a bit when you could feel the cold sensation touching your feet, and then your calf as the ocean hit you softly with its small waves.

it's a nice feeling, you admit, the breezy wind, the salty taste in the air.

like always, the ocean make you smile.

it's a content feeling, and you enjoy it until you look down to your feet, noticing that you seems to get further and further away from the water, the sand move through your toes as you feel like you're being push away by the ocean.

the thought make you furrow your brows a bit as you stand there, under the soft orange-ish light of the sun going down, basking in it as you stare at how you would slowly move away from what you love.

the ocean.

—

you love bada, it is no secret, you didn't even bother to hide it, and you're sure to let the world know about your feelings too. you love to show your affection to her, buying her gifts, flirt with her, showering her with compliments, telling her how much you appreciate her.

your feelings are as clear as the sun,

at least, to you, and to most of the people you know.

it's a bit silly, yes, you are very vocal about your feelings, and you had told bada multiple times about it, saying that you love her, so so much.

that's why it hurt, it hurt when you see her with someone else.

your feelings to her, the sun, seems to always hide behind a cloud under bada's point of view. she never understand your feelings, or at least she pretend to not understand.

she never get why you would always be extra clingy with her, why you would always pay extra attention to her, putting her feelings and needs at the top of your priority list.

to you, bada is your ocean – true to her name – the thing you love most, and to bada, you're nothing but the sand, the sand in which she would meet, but she wouldn't bother to stay, or even worse, she would push you away with her waves.

you distant yourself from her, watching her from afar as you see how she would run up to her boyfriend, howl, the very man who she had told you she hated. a bright smile on her face as she would hug him after they didn't meet for a long time.

you distant yourself from all the conversations she would have with you, telling you about how great her boyfriend is, how he would do all the exact same things you had did before to her.

buying her gifts, complimenting her, making sure she's alright.

and you would smile listening to her.

a bitter smile.

a smile that would leave a churn up on your throat as you feel your tongue getting numb, your eyes hazy as you feel your own pitiness towards yourself.

"you have no idea, he's my dream, everything i would have ever ask for", bada say excitingly to you, expecting you to match her energy.

.....and you answer.

"that's great bada, i'm glad, i hope he treat you well"

it's a bad lie, and you're a bad liar.

not to bada, but to yourself.

you can't lie to your own feelings, not when you cried yourself to sleep that night, your body curled into a ball as you hugged yourself. your cheeks were stained with tears as you didn't bother to wipe it away, your hands holded your pillow as you would sob into it. all you want, is to not feel a thing, you want to numb all the pain in your heart.

you want to be oblivious, you don't want to know why bada didn't choose you, don't even want to know why her arms were wrapped around his neck, why her lips are placed on his as they kiss each other.

you don't want to know why you hurt so much, why your heart would feel like it's suffocating on its own, why your cheeks would feel so wet, why your hands were clenching on itself, why your own teeth were biting down on your lower lips so harshly.

you don't want to know that you love her.

and god, you really wish you never even met her.

so you move away, distancing yourself from every possible news you could hear about them. only talk to bada every once in a while, to have an update about her life as her "bestfriend".

it might be the lamest excuse, using the benefit of being her friend to stay in her life, and really, you had tried so hard to forget about your feelings towards bada, even tried to distract yourself with many other relationships.

yet you would always go back to her, right by her side, even if it hurt.

howl might be the man of bada's dream, but she clearly wasn't his, as you were notified with their official break up through her own words.

her voice cracking, and her nose sniffling as she would cry into the crook of your neck, hugging you tightly as you pat softly at the back of bada's body.

"i love him, i truly do", bada would sob, her body shaking with how hurted she feel.

"bada, he cheated", you said softly, your hand stroking bada's back as you try to calm her down "bada i love you, please don't cry, he's not worth it."

once again, you turn back to your own root, the old road that you had tried to steer away, like a cycle.

—

"hey why are you standing there", a voice pull you back to reality as you turn your head around, searching for the source of it.

a bright smile quickly appear on your face as you see bada walking over to you, her hair a bit messy as the wind blow through it, her eyes squint as she doesn't want the sand to get into her eyes.

"i'm playing with the water, want to join?", you answer, in which bada nod, her form walking closer to you before she would stand directly next to your side, her hand finds yours as she hold it tightly.

it's a nice feeling, holding bada'a hand, letting the wind embrace the both of you as you breath in the salty air.

"bada, look down", you said, your gaze move down to stare at how the waves are pushing you again, moving you away from the ocean, and you smile softly "do you see how the ocean is pushing us away? do you think that it knows how i love it so much?"

your eyes are fixated on the ground, at the white bubbles forming in the water as the waves crash down. you don't want to face bada, not after what you had asked.

maybe it is just your own delusion, your last attempt to get an answer from her, maybe she wouldn't understand your question, or maybe she does, but not as deep as you would think.

and your smile suddenly taste sour in your mouth.

the silent air surround the two of you, for a while, all you could hear is the sound of waves crashing down onto the surface of the ocean. and you give up on waiting for an answer from bada. your smile turn bitter as you see how both you and bada are now out of the water,

the ocean had pushed you away completely.

so you turn around to face bada, smiling at her to hide all your messy thoughts as you see how she is staring at you. her mouth open softly like she want to say something, her hand that is holding yours tighten a bit, and she sigh lightly, grabbing your hand as she walk towards the water again, pulling you along with her to your surprise.

"the ocean surely knows you love it with how much you had cared for it, always visit it every week", bada said, her voice soft, but she said it in a serious tone, and in your ears, almost like she's begging. her eyes stare attentively into yours as her hand hold you tight, squeezing it softly as she would stop a bit at her own words, her eyes would stare into yours, her brows furrow like she is trying to gather her own thoughts before she says again.

"and sometimes... all you have to do when the ocean is pushing you away... is to step back into the water like we just did."

your mouth pressed into a thin line as you listen to bada's words. it is a confirmation, a confirmation that she knows, a confirmation that everything you had done, is not in vain.

and to you, someone who loves the ocean, someone who loves to feel the waves hitting your feet.

to stand in the water, is a blessing to you.

#bada lee x reader #bada x reader #bada swf2 #bada angst #swf2 x reader #swf2 #⟢ tod's chaos

[inej-ruination-ghafa]

UNMASKED - D.D

Warnings: mentions of children, kissing, allusions to sex,

Pairing: Din Djarin x fem!reader

Summary: you were his bounty hunting partner, and after years of fighting, you were both able to settle down, but is he ready to let go of all the rules he had learnt earlier in life?

Wordcount: 1.6k

As you sat in the razor crest, you didn't feel the usual worry bubbling up in your chest as you pondered whether or not something was going to go wrong. 

You had spent years with him as bounty hunters, hunting down targets and getting yourself into too many battles. You had both been hurt too many times, and you were both done with that now. 

Since you two had met the child, your friendship had blossomed into something else completely. Although you had always had feelings for the masked man who was currently piloting the ship, he had only realised after the battle of Nevarro where he had nearly died that you meant something to him. 

Now, the two of you are floating through your new and improved Razor Crest with Grogu, the three of you a happy family. You both loved each other and loved the child, prepared to do anything for him. 

Your soul was at peace for what felt like the first time since your childhood, and as you watched the child sleeping in his hammock in the sleeping quarters, a smile appeared on your face. 

You wondered what the rest of your life with the Mandalorian was going to be like, whether you two were going to move to some remote planet and never be found again or if he was going to go and rule Mandalorian or if the two of you would have children of your own. 

Sometimes, you wondered what he looked like under the helmet. What his skin felt like under your hand, what colour his eyes were, the texture of his hair, whether he had a beard or not. As much as you understood that his creed made it so that he couldn’t do that, you had always wanted to see him just once. 

You were completely lost in your mind as you thought about this peaceful future where you didn't have to be constantly looking over your shoulder that you didn hear footsteps coming down the ladder. 

You only noticed he was there when you felt the cold press of metal on your neck and you turned back to look at his visor, a smile on your face. 

He had as smile on his face too even though you couldn’t see it through the helmet. He always said that you had the ability to see through the helmet like it wasnt even there, like you were staring into his soul somehow. 

“You tired?” He asked, noticing how late it was. 

You shook your head, hand coming up to brush against the smooth of his helmet, “No, just thinking,”

He chuckled and you smiled at the sound, you were one of the only people who got the privilege of hearing him so free, “That’s dangerous,” he said and you shook your head at his dumb comment, “What were you thinking of?”

“What you look like,” you said and when you noticed him tense up, you knew that the comment was a little too insensitive, “You don’t have to take the helmet off,”

He stepped back, thinking about what you said. There was a tightening in his chest as he thought about everything he was depriving you of in your relationship. You had slept with him before but never been able to see his face. You had felt his body underneath yours countless times but never been able to bury your hands in his hair, never been able to kiss his lips, never been able to see him. 

“I want to,” he said, his voice sounding almost strained, like it pained him that he couldn’t. 

He wanted to kiss you, to feel your lips against his, for you to be able to hear his voice without the modulator on, to wake up next to you without the fear that you’d see his face. 

“I understand what I got into falling in love with a Mandalorian, I made the choice,” you said, hand running down his armoured arm and grabbing onto his gloved hand, “I don’t mind,” 

You pressed a kiss to his gloved knuckles before dropping his hand and walking away to grab something. 

Din spent the rest of the evening thinking about your conversation. Sure, he had always known that if he fell in love there would be boundaries unless she was a Mandalorian but now, as he looked at you feeding the child, he wanted to cast it all off. 

The most important things to his creed was loyalty and family and as he looked at you, he knew that the rules could be bent. You looked over at him, a soft smile on your face aas you realised how tense he looked. 

You wondere whether it was your conversation earlier that had put him on edge but you brushed it off, assuming he was just being his normal brooding self and would calm down later. 

You put Grogu to sleep again after his training had worn him out and as you walked away, you felt a pair of hands on your waist. You smiled to yourself, reaching down and placing your hands over his gloved ones. 

“He’s asleep,” you said, a smirk on your face and just as you were about to turn around, you felt him nuzzle into your neck. 

You froze completely at the feeling of his skin against yours, his soft curls brushing against the underside of your jaw, his stubble gently scratching your neck and his breath warm against your skin. You whispered his name and he pressed a kiss to the exposed skin of your neck and you melted, head leaning back onto his chest. 

“The Mandalorian creed puts family above everything,” he explained before pressing an open mouthed kiss to your skin, “And if we want to have our own family,” he pressed another kiss to the underside of your jaw, listening to the soft sound escaping your lips, “Then I have to make my own rules,”

Gently, he spun you around and you were met with the sight of him, with the sight of a man that you were completely and utterly in love with and he was more beautiful than you could have ever imagined. 

You took in every single part of him, the light brush of freckles on his skin, the deep brown of his eyes, the soft facial hair that he adorned. You couldn’t stop looking at him and he couldn’t stop looking at you. 

It was different without the mask on, looking at you and he was never going to get used to it. He had never been this vulnerable before in his life but as you reached a hand up slowly, placing it against his face and brushing the pad of your thumb over his cheek bone, he knew he never wanted to put that mask on again. 

“You’re beautiful,” you whispered, the words soft as you leaned in closer to get a better look at him. You wanted to memorise every single inch of his face so that when he inevitably put that helmet back on you’d be able to look at him and see what was underneath. 

There was a shy smile on his face and you leant in closer, breath mingling with his, “I want to kiss you,” he mumbled and you grinned, biting your lip slightly as you looked into his eyes.

“There’s nothing stopping you,” was all you had to say and then he leaned in closer until your lips were pressing. His hand came up to cradle your face, the other taking its usual place on your back. 

You never thought that a kiss could display this much emotion but as you held him closer, lips moving in sync as neither of you dared to pull away for a breath, you knew he loved you with every fibre of his being. 

You had to pull away to breath, placing your forehead against his with a smile, “Maker, I love you,” you whispered against his lips and he smiled, leaning back in for another kiss. 

Now that you had him like this, you were never going to let him go and he knew that. He knew that now you were going to have the life you’d both always wanted and he didn’t have to be afraid to break the creed. 

#din djarin x reader #mandalorian x reader #din djarin #din djaren #the mandalorian #mando x you #mando x reader #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x y/n #the mandalorian x reader #mandalorian x y/n #mandalorian x you #din djarin x you #mando x y/n #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian fanfic #mandalorian fanfic #mandalorian fanfiction #mando fanfiction #din djarin fanfiction #mj writes nonsense #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #the mandalorian season 3

[genericpuff]

On today's episode of "Rachel exaggerates things to make herself sound cooler-"

Soooo this is a lie.

No seriously, this has to be a lie. I don't make these kinds of accusations willy-nilly. This has to be a lie.

First of all, if her file sizes are truly 11GB for each episode, that would mean her file resolutions would have to be stupid high, and I just ain't buying that when so much of her art comes out looking like fried chicken.

But again, look at the backgrounds. Crystal clear. Which supports my theory that Rachel has her assistants draw the characters flat and exports them as PNG's so that she (or another one of her assistants) can slap the backgrounds in afterwards which is why when they pinch and zoom, the backgrounds look fine (as they're added in afterwards) and the characters look like they've been drawn with chalk. The shading itself isn't deep fried though, which is, again, because Rachel adds in the shading in post after her assistants have sent her all the flats.

Anyways, moving on from that, if her file sizes are actually 11GB per episode, that would mean her resolution would have to be STUPID high and that would mean there's no excuse for panels to look like this. This is not a Webtoons compression problem, Webtoons does compress images for you if you don't do it yourself but they don't result in specifically deep fried textures like this, that's ALL happening on Rachel's side. If it were a Webtoons' problem, the entire comic would look like that, not just select panels.

This is also what the panels tend to look like in book form. The book art is clearly very compressed and blurred from being too low of a resolution for print, which means either the editor is not being provided the root files, or the root files weren't ever that crisp to begin with. Either one is plausible and either one isn't good.

But of course, I'm not going to make these claims without my own proof. So here's the file sizes for Episode 12 of Rekindled, the longest episode in the series so far by panel count and page length, clocking in at 42 panels and an average of 25 layers per page (and that's including the text layers which adds a good chunk on its own, the actual art layers are like, half of that).

Also, here's what a pinch and zoom panel in Rekindled comes out looking like:

You can still pick up on some fuzziness, but the lineart doesn't look straight up chunky like it does in LO.

Meanwhile, one of my longest episodes of TIME GATE: [AFTERBIRTH] has a file size that honestly shocked me with how small it was.

Guess how many panels that episode had?

Go on, guess. Take a second. Compare it to the file size of Episode 12 of Rekindled, take your best educated guess. Time Gate: [AFTERBIRTH] is also a full color webtoon with full shading and rendering that I used to upload once a week. Go ahead, I'll wait.

Ninety-seven.

Ninety. Seven.

Not only is that more panels than what LO dishes out on a weekly basis, but its overall file size doesn't even come out to be 10% of what Rachel is claiming LO's file sizes to be.

This is what Time Gate: [AFTERBIRTH] looks like, by the way:

(don't mind the blurriness that's working against my point, that's Tumblr, not me LMAO)

But, let's face it, I didn't want to just use my own examples as a comparison, because that seems unfair. I'm not an Originals creator, I just put myself under similar pressures as one because I'm an idiot who tries too hard.

So I asked one of my Originals pals. I will not disclose their name, but they are someone who works for Webtoons Originals and has similar panel requirements and deadlines. They also work with a similar flatting + shade workflow as LO, they have cel-shaded colors and bold flat coloring.

When I asked them how big their file sizes were, they said that at 2500px width - similar to what I draw at, 2400px width - and 200-300k pixel length (again, they're drawing an entire episode on one canvas) their episode file sizes come out to roughly one gigabyte, very rarely much bigger than that.

Rachel is full of shit. This is some Tommy Tallarico level shit, exaggerating stupid things that don't matter to try and make herself seem impressive. It isn't impressive. It makes her look like an unorganized dunderhead at best, and at worst, makes her look like a flat out liar who needs to prop herself up on the dumbest shit to make herself look good. File gigabyte size isn't impressive or indicative of anything, you can achieve high quality art without your file size amounting to 11 GB, and let's face it, Lore Olympus is not high quality art. You're telling me art like this:

amounts to 11 GB?

Now the only way I can see this happening is if maybe, maybe she had like, a bajillion layers full of garbage-

Oh. Oh no. Lore Olympus. Is a sprite comic.*

(*edit for clarification: I've had people confused over what I mean by sprite comic because LO clearly isn't made with 16/8 bit sprites. Sprite comic was a term universally used back in the day for comics that reused the same body parts, heads, expressions, etc. much like how sprites are designed, often keeping an entire file full of different layers made up of these assets to make for easier development. This technique was utilized in comics like CTRL + ALT + DEL. LO is definitely not literally a sprite comic but the way its layers are designed feel very much like something that's being cobbled together like 'sprite' comics were. I'm old.)

Even with these pics for proof, with 600+ layers on one canvas, if there's barely anything on those layers, then it still wouldn't make up that 11GB file size because the amount of layers doesn't necessarily add to file size on its own, at least not by that much, unless they're actually filled with stuff. And again, Rachel's art in LO doesn't scream "highly detailed with many layers". It only had many layers because for some reason she insists on working that way even to its own detriment.

From the looks of it, Rachel's importing all of her assistants' PNG's as separate layers and adding all the shading and the extra details on their own separate layers and basically dividing everything up into tiny bite sized pieces. That's the only clear explanation I can come up with. But if so, that means she's being INCREDIBLY inefficient with her workflow that it's amounting to SIX HUNDRED+ LAYERS AT 11 GB PER EPISODE. THAT IS ABSURD. THIS COMIC IS WAY TOO LOW QUALITY TO JUSTIFY THESE FILE SIZES AND LAYER COUNTS. RACHEL DOESN'T KNOW WHAT THE FUCK SHE'S DOING-

She's also very clearly using the cloud as a way to backup her work and work with her assistants. God knows how much she's spending on cloud space because of her own incompetency.

Honestly, at this point, as I sit here playing the Photoshop equivalent of Cookie Clicker, clicking the 'new layer' button over and over and over again with my mouse to truly understand what it would feel like to operate at 600+ layers per episode of a webtoon, I'm more inclined to believe she's just lying. Capping. Pulling shit out of her ass. Straight up making shit up. It wouldn't be the first time she's done that. But also because the alternative is a lot more grim - the #1 best selling webtoon on the platform is being operated like the world's worst group project and still coming out on the other side looking like deep fried garbage despite its stupid high file size.

#hoo boy i wasn't expecting to write an essay today #but i got tagged in this discussion in ULO #my 10+ years of being a deadbeat washed up webcomic creator with zero street cred finally pay off #lore olympus critical #lo critical #antiloreolympus #anti lore olympus

[archangeldyke-all]

hellooooo, if you’re not taking requests please disregard this but please can you write a little something about sevika x autistic!reader, i’d just like to see how she’d learn to live with me. also i love your work and commitment, remember to take breaks tho, dear 💗💗💗

of course!

men and minors dni

she's going to be fascinated by any special interests or hyperfixations you have, she could listen to you talk about it for hours.

not only is the sound of your voice her favorite thing, but she's actually really interested. even if it's something she'd never care about without you. if you like a certain piece of media-- she'll wanna hear you tell her all the lore in your words, before maybe having you introduce it to her. she'd ask so many questions and find it incredibly sexy when you have an answer to each and every one.

and you can bet your ass she's always buying you trinkets or things related to your interests. anything and everything she can get her hands on she'll be lugging home for you.

i think sevika would be kind of charmed by your lack of social graces. what you consider 'awkward faux pas' when you look back on it, cringing at your past self, sevika laughs about and admires. she's usually blunt and straightforward-- she doesn't think it's strange that you are too.

like, your friend showing up late for lunch and apologizing for being ten minutes behind and you quickly correcting them and telling them, actually, it was thirty minutes, later that night it'll hit you that maybe it came off as bitchy. you were genuinely just correcting her mistake. you worry about it to sevika and she snorts.

"nah, babe, i was thinking the same thing. i was gonna say it if you didn't."

she'd love watching you stim. you always get embarrassed, but if she can catch you flap your hands or rock back and forth without you seeing-- she'll watch with a soft, admiring smile on her face.

in another way that sevika can kind of relate to some of the struggles of autism-- sevika is not a stranger to emotional outbursts that she can't control. she's not triggered by the same things you are, and she reacts much differently-- but she doesn't bat an eye the first time you break down in front of her, hyperventilating in her arms and choking out that your day's just been 'too much.' she understands that feeling completely.

imagine needing some pressure and having sevika as a girlfriend. getting her to lay right on top of you-- she'd be the best, warmest, firmest weighted blanket of your life.

if and when she buys you things to wear-- jewelry or clothes or even blankets-- she'll make sure their textures you like, she'll cut the tags out carefully for you, she'll make sure the jewlery is just your size so it won't bother you.

the first few times you go nonverbal around her, she's a little spooked. but after you explain it to her-- that you're fine but just exhausted, that you can't find your voice right now with how loud your brain's being-- she understands. and now she's great at handling you when you're nonverbal.

she leaves you alone, unless you request cuddles with grabby hands. she makes you food and delivers it to you with a firm kiss to your head, not bothering you so you don't have to take off your ear canceling headphones. the only time she asks you things is if she absolutely has to, and she makes sure all her questions are yes or no.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @ellabslut @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki @emiliabby

#sevika #sevika imagine #sevika arcane #sevika x reader #sevika x you #soft sevika