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munsonsmixtapes · 7 months ago

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Helloooooo

I'm newer to your page ive been slowly reading your amazing stories.. are you still doing your prompt list stories?? I seen 3 that could work.. 40,42 and 43.. and it made me think or something possibly like this..

Eddie and (maybe plus sized) reader have been together for a while.. she sees a pretty girl/groupie flirting with him after the show (but she doesn't see him walking away from her or telling her that hes taken/not interested.. Reader just gets feral when they get home.. not realizing she's ovulating or something.. and just like gets her frustration out by begging Eddie to claim her fully or something..

sorry my brain has been all over the place.. I just can't get enough of him amd some stories have brought out some sides of me that i didnt know i had haha)

Hope that made sense.. I have a hard time getting what I have in my brain out.. which is why I don't write haha

Hello, lovely! Welcome! Thanks for the request!

Not proofread!

Eddie x fem!shy!plus size!reader

cw: MDNI 18+, smut (p in v), unprotected sex, fingering (f receiving) oral (f receiving), mention of pregnancy

Ever since you and Eddie had gotten together, he had made your relationship his entire personality. He would mention you every chance he got, letting everyone know that he was a taken man and that he was very lucky to have you. Whether it was in an interview, he talking about one of the many songs he had written about you, or introducing you to someone, it didn’t matter. He was so obsessed with you and had to let everyone know just how much he loved you.

Amongst his many nicknames for you, “my girl” was by far his favorite. He used it so often, so much love behind the words that it was clear to everyone that he was head over heels for you. He’d even go as far as singing the song to you while you made breakfast together, spinning you around the kitchen as the lyrics fell from his lips.

“This? Oh, my girl got it for me.”

“The next song is about my girl. I hope you enjoy it.”

“Everyone, I’d like you to meet my girl.”

You were his favorite topic of conversation to the point where it seemed that everyone knew that he was taken just by how much he brought you up in conversation, often unprompted. And anyone who didn’t know or did and flirted with him anyway, he would shut them down so quickly once he realized what was happening. He already had the best thing and wouldn’t have dreamed of ruining it.

You entered the concert venue as everyone was packing things up for the night. Corroded Coffin had just finished a show which you hadn’t been able to get to until after your shift at the bar down the street. You felt horrible for missing it even though Eddie had insisted that it was okay. He just appreciated that you were going to be there at all with your very busy schedule.

You were let in through the back doors and made your way down the hallway to find the all too familiar mop of hair. He was usually waiting right by the door for you, but he wasn’t there. You were starting to panic, but tried to calm yourself down, telling yourself that maybe he was in the bathroom or grabbing his belongings.

You looked all around the building until you spotted him outside his dressing room…talking to a girl. She was beautiful and she was making him laugh. She reached up and touched his hair and instead of stepping in like you knew you should have, you just turned on your heel to leave. You couldn’t watch another second.

What you hadn’t seen when you turned your back was Eddie removing the girls hand from his hair before dropping it. Now he understood what was happening. He took a step back from her until his back almost hit the door.

The thing about Eddie was that sometimes he wasn’t even aware that he was being flirted with. That was something that he still wasn’t used to after years in the industry because of the treatment he had received back home. He just thought they were being friendly until the touches came into play and that was always telltale sign. And then he’d let them down easy, not wanting to hurt their feelings, letting them know that his girl was waiting for him back home.

“Oh,” his eyes widened. “I’m so sorry. I have a girlfriend.” The girls face fell and she almost seemed disgusted by the fact that he was in a relationship.

“Oh,” she pouted. He always felt bad, letting the girls down, but he knew that one of his band mates would be happy to take them off his hands.

“But you know what? I heard that Gareth is looking for someone to take home, if you’re interested,” he winked and her face lit up again.

“Really?”

“Really,” Eddie nodded and opened the dressing room door where the other members of the band were hanging out. “Go get ‘em.”

The girl entered the room and Eddie let out a sigh of relief before turning to his left only to see you turning the corner. He didn’t know where you were going. You always waited for him so he didn’t understand why you were walking away.

He took off, racing after you so he could catch up. He almost tripped a few times, but he got to you, draping an arm over your shoulder as he fell into step with you.

“There’s my girl,” he let out a contented sigh before pressing a kiss to your temple. He tucked you into his side but couldn’t help but notice that you weren’t grabbing a hold of him like you usually did. You always had to be touching him so something was clearly off.

“Nothing to say, hm?” he asked, his lips still pressed to your skin. You weren’t usually talkative after work because you were usually overstimulated, but you would normally at last give him some sort of greeting.

Had he forgotten an important event? Maybe your birthday? No, that had already passed. Maybe your anniversary? No, that wasn’t until next month. Whatever it was, he definitely needed to apologize.

You and Eddie didn’t fight often, but when you did, it didn’t take very long for you both to make up. He was normally the first to apologize, hating to see the angry look on your face. He just wanted to make everything right so you could cuddle up in your bed. He just wanted you to be happy and hated when he was the one to be the cause of your unhappiness.

But he wanted to wait until you brought up what was bothering you. He never wanted to pry and hoped that you knew that he was willing to listen to whatever was going on in your head, no matter how ridiculous it seemed.

So, you spent the whole walk to his van and the whole ride home talking about your nights. He listened to you tell him about what happened at the bar and he told you how great the show went, not leaving out any detail.

It almost seemed like a normal night except for the obvious tension between the two of you. Neither one of you were going to be the first to bring it up, so it sat between you, like a jack in the box and you both were afraid to crank it first, not wanting to see the thing pop up.

Eddie rested his hand on your thigh like he normally did and even thought you were upset with him, you weren’t going to deny his affection. You loved the way his rough skin felt on yours and you felt like you needed him to show you just how much he wanted you.

You wanted him compliment you as he pounded into you, causing you to let out countless moans. You wanted to feel his lips everywhere. Your neck, your tits, your pussy. You just needed his head between your thighs so badly that you were getting wet just thinking about it.

Eddie pulled up to the house that you shared and was quick to help you out of the van, still keeping a hold of your hand as he opened the garage door. You pulled your hand out of his as soon as the door was open and headed inside.

He needed to beg if he wanted to get lucky. Not that it would take much for you to give in. You would have done anything he told you just by him flashing his million dollar smile, his dark brown eyes shining.

Eddie followed you into the house and up the stairs, noticing how loudly you were stomping as you took each step. He usually liked pissing you off just to get the reaction he liked, but never to this level. He had really fucked up and he didn’t even know what he had done.

You got to your shared room and slammed the door once you were inside. Eddie winced at the sound and decided that he finally had enough. He had to get to the bottom of the problem.

“Alright.” He opened the door, not even bothering to close it. He couldn’t go any longer without knowing why you were so pissed at him. “What’s on your mind?”

How could he not know? He was laughing with another girl then acted like it was nothing? Maybe he wasn’t into you as much as you thought. Maybe what you had wasn’t as special as you had assumed. Maybe this was just the beginning of the end.

“Nothing, Eddie. Let’s just go to bed.” You really weren’t in the mood to start another fight with him.

“No, we’re gonna talk about this.” He put his hands on his hips. Wayne always told him to never go to bed angry and he intended on sticking to that advice.

“Fine, you wanna know what’s wrong?” You crossed your arms over your chest.

“Tell me, angel,” he stepped forward. “Please.”

“I saw you with her.” His eyebrows furrowed, trying to figure out who you could have been talking about.

“With who?” He had no idea what you were referring to and just wanted you to come out and say it.

“The groupie outside your dressing room.” Oh. He had completely forgotten about her as soon as she entered the dressing room. He couldn’t believe you were jealous of her. You were always the only girl on his mind.

“You’re jealous,” he chuckled and you just scoffed. You couldn’t believe that he was laughing at your pain.

“So what if am?” He wasn’t expecting you to admit it so easily, but he appreciated the honesty.

“There’s no need to be jealous, honey,” he rested his hands on your shoulders, giving them a reassuring squeeze. “You’re the one I love, remember?”

He had always said the word so easily, so matter-of-fact, as if he was telling you the weather forecast.

“You love me.” You crossed your arms over your chest, needing a little more than that to be convinced.

“Of course I do.” He gave your shoulders another squeeze before sliding his hands down to yours, holding them.

“Prove it.” You raised an eyebrow, challenging him. You wanted proof, needed it in fact.

“What?” He let out a scoff at your words. It wasn’t like you to have so much confidence in your words. You were usually so shy and quiet, but he liked seeing this new side of you.

“Prove it,” you repeated and he just let out another chuckle.

“How am I supposed to do that?” He stopped laughing once he saw you weren’t joking. You meant what you said, but he was going to do whatever you asked. He just wanted you to not be upset with him anymore. He needed to see your pretty smile.

“Beg.” Your eyes darkened as you spoke and Eddie’s widened at how authoritative you had become. You were so hot like this.

“Beg?”

“Beg,” you removed one of your hands from his and pointed to the floor. “On your knees.” He didn’t know why he was finding your bossy behavior so hot, but his dick was definitely hardening.

Eddie lowered himself to the floor, your hands still in his. He looked up at you and you loved seeing him from that point of view. He looked so small unlike his usual tall stature.

“I love you so much, angel,” he said, bringing your hands up to his lips. “So so much. You’re my girl and I’d never even think about cheating on you. You have no reason to be jealous, I swear.”

He grabbed a hold of your waist, burying his face into your stomach. Your hands found their way into his hair, giving his scalp a scratch. You figured he had suffered enough, but just needed one more thing.

“I’m so sorry. I wish you had told me how you were feeling sooner so I could reassure you.”

“I know how you could reassure me.” You were trying to sound flirty, but weren’t sure if you were doing it right. Flirting was always Eddie’s thing.

“How?” He asked, pulling back to look up at you.

“I need you.” Eddie was quick to stand up, trying to understand what you mean.

“I’m right here, honey.” He pulled you into his arms, giving you a tight hug. His hand rubbed your back in a comforting manner and normally, you would have taken that, but not tonight. You needed more. You needed to feel his skin against yours. His cock inside you.

“No, Eddie. I need you.” Your eyes darkened again and he was finally catching on to what you were meaning.

“Oh,” he let out a laugh. “That was all you had to say.” He hands wrapped around your waist and he pulled you into a kiss, capturing your bottom lip between his two. He took no time to lick into your mouth while his hands reached for the bottom of your shirt. He pulled it up over your head and let it fall to the floor.

You unbuttoned his shirt and threw it behind you before attaching your lips to his, taking no time to plunge your tongue into his mouth. You backed him up to the bed and pushed him down onto it before straddling his waist.

“You’re so hot,” he breathed as your lips moved down to his neck, giving it a suck before moving back up to his mouth.

“You’re hotter.” Eddie quickly flipped you over so you were the one on the mattress and you let out a gasp at the sudden movement. He straddled your waist and pinned your wrists to the bed before going straight for your shoulder.

“No, baby. You’re the hottest. Your body is fucking killer.” Eddie loved your body. You weren’t skinny by any means, but that just gave him more love on. He loved pressing kisses to every inch of skin he could find, loving to give special attention to your stretch marks. He thought they were cute and that they made you unique.

“You think so?”

“I know so, honey,” he pulled back to look at you. “Want me to show you?” His face lit up as he said the words and it made you even more wet knowing that he was so happy to show you just how much he liked your body.

“Please,” you whined and he kissed his way down to your chest, pressing a kiss right in the center of it, right above the middle of your bra. “Take it off,” you commanded.

He pressed another kiss to the skin and moved his hands behind your back, unhooking it as slowly as he possibly could. He could hear your sighs of frustration and tried to hold back his chuckle. He very slowly undid each hook and removed the bra completely, letting it clatter to the floor beside the bed.

Eddie then pinned you back down to the mattress and looked down at you with a devilish grin. He was always such a fucking tease.

“You’re even hotter than I remember,” he complimented as he stared down at your tits.

“I got hotter just from last night?”

“Sure did. Now hush, honey. I’m about to do my best work.” He moved one of his hands to your nipple, massaging it with the pad of his thumb, just enough for to make it hard before he brought his mouth to it. He licked a stripe across it before giving it a suck.

“Oh,” you let out a moan and he took that as an invitation to bring it between his teeth giving it a little nibble. “Oh, Eddie.”

He did the exact same thing to the other nipple, eliciting more pretty sounds from you and he was eating it up. He loved that only he could get that reaction from you.

Eddie kissed his way down your stomach and stopped once he got to your waist. He pressed a featherlight peck to each of your stretch marks before looking up at you.

“Can I remove-“

“Yes,” you cut him off, getting desperate for him to get it over with.

“Needy,” he chuckled.

“And you’re a tease. I need your mouth on my clit.” You couldn’t take it anymore.

“Whatever the princess wants, the princess gets.” He unbuttoned your pants and pulled them off of you in one quick more before letting them fall to the floor in a messy pile behind him. He then reached for your underwear and slid them off before tossing them behind him. He lowered himself onto his knees then spread your legs and let out a whistle as he got a look at your pussy.

“Already wet for me, hm?” His fingers lightly grazed your cunt and you gave him that look that he knew all too well. You hated when he messed with you like this, but he did it just to see that angry look in your eyes. It never failed to make him hard.

“I think we both know the answer to that.” Eddie liked you best when you were like that, all angry and bothered.

“Wow, doll,” his fingers stayed where they are, moving back and forth so you got a little sensation but not the full thing. Eddie liked it when you begged. “That just might be a record.”

“Stop fucking around.” You usually liked the little games he liked to play, but not tonight.

“Someone’s eager,” he teased with a smirk and you were honestly on the verge of pleasuring yourself since he was taking too long. This was always how it went so you didn’t know why you ever expected anything different.

“Of course I’m eager, I’m-” your words were cut off when Eddie thrusted his fingers into your pussy. “Oh.”

“That’s right, doll.” His fingers pumped in and out, causing you to let out a moan.

“Eddie,” you whined and he just smirked.

“Say my name, honey.” He continued, thrusting them harder and faster as you let out another moan, grasping as the bedding underneath you, needing something to grab onto.

“Need your mouth, Eds,” you mewled and he removed his fingers before draping your legs over his shoulders. He pressed a kiss to each thigh before diving into your pussy and you let out a gasp. He licked a stripe from your slit to your clit before shoving it into your pussy, swirling it around as your hands dug further into the bedding.

You let out a loud moan and Eddie only buried his face further into your cunt, grazing the thing with his teeth and that drove you wild. You almost screamed at the sensation and Eddie did it once more to hear the sound again. Your thighs tightened at the feeling, causing them the press against the side of his head and he spread them, removing himself from your cunt.

You let out a whine at his absence and he ripped off his pants, desperate to be inside you. He moved to his bedside table and reached for his box of condoms, only to find that it was empty.

“I’m okay with it if you are,” you told him, seeing what the issue was. And you were okay with it. You suddenly liked the idea of feeling his bare cock inside of you.

“You’re sure? What about-“

“If I get pregnant, I get pregnant,” you shrugged. The two of you had talked about having a baby and even discussed trying, but he didn’t think it would be so soon. He couldn’t have been more happy, though. He loved the idea of having a baby that was a product of the two of you making love to each other.

“You want to have a baby with me?” His face lit up. Sure, being a rockstar was cool, but he was convinced that being a father and husband were the roles he was convinced he was put on this earth for.

“I’d be honored to have a baby with you, Eds.” You didn’t know why he was asking since you had talked about it at length.

“Well, there’s no time like the present,” he smiled, ripping off his underwear. He lined himself up with your pussy and slowly slid his dick into you. You let out a small noise as the sensation. You never had unprotected sex before so it felt a little odd at first, but you had to admit that you liked the way it felt, that there was no barrier between his cock and your pussy.

Eddie slowly thrusted into you, wanting it to be nice and sweet for once. He wanted this to be a sweet moment between the two of you. Something you’d remember for the rest of your lives.

His hands gripped your hips as he pumped in and out, paying you compliment after compliment, showering you with the sweetest words as he thrusted inside you, assuring you of his love for you.

You let out moan after moan as he pumped into you and you grabbed onto him, pressing your face into his neck. His thrusted a little harder and your fingers dug into his back, but not enough to actually hurt him.

“Taking me so well, honey,” he said, pumping a little faster and harder. He was just testing the waters to see what you liked without the condom.

“Eddie,” was all you were able to say, your words getting slurred as your head leaned back.

“I know, princess,” he brushed some sweaty hair out of your face. “Got one more for me, hon?”

“One more,” you repeated. He gave a couple more thrusts, these ones harder and faster than before and you let out the most pretty moans he had ever heard come from your mouth. He hadn’t thought you’d liked it rough, but he supposed his was wrong.

He pulled out and lowered you to the mattress before cleaning you up and getting you some fresh pajamas from the drawer you had them tucked away in. He helped you change into them then got into his own before getting you both under the covers.

You turned over to face him and you wrapped your arms around each other, tangling your legs together as you did so. He couldn’t keep the smile off his face as he looked at you, the love of his life. God, he was so fucking lucky.

“I love you,” he smiled, bringing one of his hands up to your face and you smiled as well.

“I love you too.” He pressed a soft kiss to your lips in response.

“You’re going to be a great mom.” His thumb rubbed back and forth along your cheek and you closed your eyes, loving the way it felt. You could tell he meant the words, not only because he never said anything he didn’t mean, but also because of the way he looked when he said it, his eyes all soft and sweet.

“And you’re going to be a great dad.” He felt himself tearing up at your words and yours teared up too. He pulled you in for another kiss and the two of you drifted off to sleep, thinking of nothing but cribs and high chairs and the extra bedroom you had that would have made a perfect nursery. Maybe if things went right, you’d actually be parents.

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x plus size reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x shy!reader

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fudanshidoublevision · 9 months ago

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It's pretty funny how the three love interests have something in common 。。。。besides their obvious interest (Haley) and obsession (Double Vision and Ray) towards the MC of the game.

The three of them smoke, which might be something banal for some but I like to hold into small details like these and make up stuff.

Haley takes smoke breaks, Ray smokes when he is in your apartment and Double isn't shown smoking in the game but he does on his birthday illustration. ᶘ ⊙ᴥ⊙ᶅ

Not sure if that was on purpose or just a coincidence but either way, it makes sense to me.

Ray, especially, the fact that he smokes.

Considering that he spent most of his pre-teen and teenage years until he was 18 years old living with Steel Sheriff and remember, Steel Sheriff is a shitty person and a BAD influence, so it makes sense that maaaybe that bad habit was influenced by that horrendous man and Ray took a hold into it.

Ray strikes me as the type of guy who's addicted to nicotine and honestly? I don't blame him at all, that man went through so much shit since he came out of his mother's womb so if he EVEN chain smokes, it wouldn't faze me at all.

Not sure if Ray smokes only at night but someone dear to me does and well, the only time of the day Ray is completely free of any duty is at night, as far as i've seen? Also, smoking at night sounds...right to me, he takes notice of you and opens the window so he isn't stinking up your place...which is surprising, the only smokers I know always smoke in secluded places and I can smell it all the way into my bedroom. ʕʘ̅͜ʘ̅ʔ

I'm aware that nicotine has some benefits but we are talking about Ray, who is freaking Binary Star, HIS ABILITY???? EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEM. /j This man does not GAF about the side effects or the benefits of smoking. Out of the three I believe that Ray is free from any illnesses or any type of side effects, heh.

Now, Haley, they are shapeshifter...? Correct me if I'm wrong, im an amateur on the Haley department. Crazy idea but imagine if they smoke on their cat form, holy fucking shit. Their brain, gastrointestinal system or even their heart is not safe though...but I believe that they can easily shift into any animal with the strongest lungs ever and live another day without being worried about any complications? Huh, this sounds batshit crazy so I think I'll stop writing this part.

Like Ray, Haley seems to smoke as a sedative, what if they smoke herbal cigarettes? Also, I believe that they can easily quit if they want to (heh, now that I'm reading this part i forgot that this is something most addicts say, LOL.) , which I beg to differ when it comes to Ray or Double, I don't judge them, just an observation I guess.

At last, my favorite character and current obsession, Double Vision.

Cigarette smoking, yeah but what about vaping? He looks like the type of guy that would vape or maybe is it too tame for him? Maybe he wants something stronger. Wait, does anyone really need a reason to smoke? ಠಿ_ಠ

People say that vaping is less hazardous than smoking but to me? It's the same thing, most e-cigarretes contain nicotine but yeah, you are inhaling smoke from burning tobacco when you smoke a cigarette. I don't know anything about vaping. It's pretty popular in my country though, never tried it but my friend told me that vaping feels and tastes different from smoking, so I believe their judgement.

Forgive my yapping, like I was saying! He isn't safe from the lung cancer, at all. Yeah, this man can do sick tricks with the smoke, for sure... I'm not going to name any because I might be wrong but you name it and maaaaaaaybe he would be capable of doing it, if you can do something for him back, of course. Oh, I'm 100% sure this freakazoid throws the smoke in your face on purpose, I find that hot actually...if only my nostrils and eyes could say the same about that. If he does that, I'll be coughing like I have asthma until I die.

Hmm, I can't think of when he started smoking...maybe on his teenage years? After all, I think it was at that time that he started to get along with shady people and ugly business. The power of influence and their ambience might be a big factor of this habit on these guys. Heavy on Ray.

That's everything I could think of. For now.

If you are a real person, don't smoke, I guess?. Do whatever you want BUT DON'T BE TELLING ANYONE THAT TUMBLR USER fudanshidoublevision encouraged you to do it.

If you are fictional character, yassss smoke all you want beautiful inexistent individual, you don't exist after all!

GODDAMN!!!!!! I MIGHT START SMOKING RIGHT NOW IF I CAN LOOK THIS HOT 😍😍😍 GIVE ME THAT CIGARETTE 🔥🔥🔥

#binary star hero #bsh double vision #bsh haley #bsh ray #binary star #my goofy ahh writing #actually i feel like this post doesn't deserve this tag but rather #overnalyzing writing

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maleyanderecafe · 6 months ago

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not sure if anyone has recomended monster x mediator yet but its such a fun game despite being quite short. the game is supposed to have mutiple routes eventually (which I'm not sure are supposed to be yanderes) but the one it has rn is complete and definitly fits the yandere vibes. If u like things that mix horror with humor and have a funnily pathetic but still terrifing yandere this one is a trip. Also the fact that the guy is a monster that looks like a madness combat character adds to the charm of it in my opinion lol

I'll be honest, I was a little skeptical about this game, but I saw how pathetic he is and now I'm very much on board. This game is supposed to have four different routes, but currently only has one for now. The comedy and horror is well balanced in the game itself. If you want to try out the demo, you can play it here.

The story starts out with the MC taking on a job for a large sum of money. They are currently in debt and need money quick. After receiving the first half of the money, they are directed to go to some abandoned building to get the other half. After receiving it, they are then told their task to go inside of the building. If the MC tries to run away, they will be shot on the spot. If they accept, they will be faced with a couple of doors. Their boss will then tell them that there are monsters that behind each door, and that the MC's job is to get all of them out of the room without dying.

Going into the red door, the MC is pretty much immediately knocked out before waking up and finding a large monster hovering over them and thousands of things pasted up in the walls. You can successfully get him out of the room in three different ways but can also be killed a couple of other ways as well. The first thing he does is declare himself as the MC's biggest fan, getting so excited that he grips his axe menacingly. If the MC gets him too excited, they will end up killing the MC. The monster (later revealed as 404), talks about how much he loves the MC's fanfiction blog and how he was really sad and depressed when the MC blocked him and even sadder when they stopped writing all together. 404 also reveals that he is such a big fan that he also knows all of the MC's passwords and even their bank account, with all of the fanfiction that they written pasted on the wall. 404 then asks if they want to see where he kills everyone and if they can write a fanfic for him.

If the MC is curious about where all the dead bodies are, 404 will bring them into another room to show them. We learn a lot about 404: he doesn't know what kind of monster he is, doesn't really need to eat, loves to kill with his axe and seems to have regenerative abilities considering he was shot in the head and was completely fine the next day. The MC can have two ways to get him out of the room, both of which are hilarious. The first way is to literally beg 404 to leave by pleading desperately (do you know that let me rizz you up meme? That's what you do) until 404 gets tired and does it for his super star. The other way is to seduce (?) 404 by telling him that it would be sexy of him to leave the room, which works well. We also learn about the facility itself, that 404 has been living there since as far as he remembers, that he loves killing the various people that come in, doesn't like the MC's boss (finds them annoying through the walkie talkie) and pretty much only kills and reading the MC's blog.

If the MC decides to oblige 404 with his obsession, they will start to write on a typewriter as 404 stands behind them excitedly. He keeps on asking the MC to add more and more things, making it 100 pages instead of 10, making the story a romance, making it a romance between him and the MC (noting that "the name Nick is the same as his username", which is a huge stretch).

If the MC refuses to write 100 pages, 404 will end up getting extremely angry and hold the MC by the throat, calling them and humans "bitches". He will start to kill the MC, crying and feeling despair as he kills the MC by choking them to death.

If the MC does oblige, they will write the most god awful fanfiction (their words) and end up pretty much just holding the a key until it fills all 100 pages. 404 ends up crying out of happiness at such a beautiful gift and leaves the room, just as the MC wanted.

First of all, I think that the game does a good job of balancing the horror elements with the comedy. I did not expect to like 404 this much and definitely did not expect his personality to be like this. I did feel it was interesting that 404 believes that the MC's writing would "fix him" and even laments that even though he knows it wouldn't, he still wanted to try when he was killing the MC in a choke hold. He basically is a very feral online fan who meets their super idol (which gives me a bit of incel vibes), but not enough to be extremely obvious, much more than other yanderes, with him saying like he's a gentleman, or that he isn't angry at all despite the fact that he got blocked. I also love the various ways that you can get him out of the room, and just how obsessed he is with the MC. He seems to mostly be an obsessive yandere, with him pasting the fanfic of the MC's work all over his walls, delusionally believing that he is the same character that the MC writes, confessing his feelings to the MC while they're writing, not killing the MC (since apparently he's killed every other person that came in) and wanting the MC's writings to fix him. He is also a pretty pathetic type of yandere, hoping desperately that the MC (and their writings) would fix them, crying when he does kill the MC and generally seeing himself in their writing, but also rather dangerous just due to his violent nature. It's fun to see dangerous but pathetic yanderes since I feel like that's something that I haven't seen to much.

I am curious about how the other monsters will be like. It seems that as of writing this, the Knight Monster is currently delayed, so I guess we'll see if he ends up being a yandere too. I would recommend this game just on it's humor and interesting kind of intrigue about why these monsters are in the buildings themselves. He does look like a madness combat characters, you're right.

#male yandere #yandere #yandere boy #recommendations #asks #monster x mediator

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yanxidarlings · 10 months ago

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hello !! I've been really interested in your "not slytherin" writing and i think i have reread it more than 20-ish times hahahah since it's really good and you're the reason why i am invested in all these fan characters (since i didnt see what their appeal was before reading your work).

and now speaking of it, I'm now thinking about a specific "what if?" scenario, and that is; what if the suffering the reader goes through becomes so much to the point it transforms them into an obscurial? they have pretty much oppressed all their emotions, all their negativity, for four years— and it broke them. and the angst would be so good for this. the reader would definitely be more than distrustful. they're afraid that since their name has already been burnt off their own family; they would soon be expelled or even worse taken into the ministry for how dangerous they are to the other students. and this would definitely up the yandere factor to another level. they're aware theyre at fault for most of the reader's suffering, and that a single trigger would cause them to burst but then they can't do a single fucking thing about it or else.

not a request, but it's something ive been thinking about for a long time now !! (I'm really new to the hp fandom and ur writing definitely made me want to read more into them so I'm glad i stumbled upon it suddenly ^^)

dude, broski, broskilenski, ur a wizard of some sort because HOW ELSE COULD YOU READ MY MIND

i was considering making the reader an obscurial (my favourite fanfiction trope by far) but hesitent incase it was too farfetched but I HAVE BEEN GIVEN A SIGN

was sitting on not slytherin aye p2 but this ask has given me the inspiration to write

so without further adieu, with compliments to the other not slytherin p2 ask

jaythes1mp asked:

Could you do a part two of your latest fic (at this time) — YANDERE SLYTHERIN BOYS: NOT SLYTHERIN, AYE?

Where all the sudden suffocating affection they’re showing him after years of tournament makes him leave Hogwarts because he’s so terrified. He knows they couldn’t have changed, since they’re still threatening anyone near him. But once news gets around to them that he’s leaving for good? How would they take the news? And if they learn that he’s been disowned from his family? Would that be a good or bad thing — because now they can’t arrange a marriage. And it would be harder to find him if he got out of their grasps.

Would they be forced to team up? Would they force him into an unbreakable vow or blood pact??

Please do my request, I’ll beg. Just ask, I will actually get on my knees and beg. 🙏🙏🙏🙏

i present

YANDERE SLYTHERIN BOYS: NOT SLYTHERIN, AYE? P2

“remember, you have to do anything to be slytherin, no matter what it takes” draco's words replayed in m/n's head. he'd replayed that sentance so much it had become distorted, is that even what he said m/n thought to himself, watching the train pass by.

under his eyes were bags the size of boulders, he hadn't slept in days. not since..

"excuse me, sir" a voice rung in his head. m/n shook his head, he wanted it all to go away, go away, go away- "mister, i'm gonna have to ask you for ID" somesort of internal wiring within him snapped "GO AWAY" m/n screamed, finally turning to face to the person- man.. muggle police officer, that had been addressing him.

the officer moved back, taking a strange device off his uniform and speaking into it "i'm gonna need back-up, barkley" whilst the man was engaged, m/n made a run for it.

"GET BACK HERE YOUNG MAN" the police officer bellowed, chasing after the teenage boy.

running through, down the subway and onto the train tracks, the officer gave up the pursuit. sooner or later the boy would be run over by an oncoming train in the tunnels.

after running for who knows how long, m/n finally slowed to a walking pace. then he stopped. the sound of a horn filled his ears, the pitch black tunnel illuminated by the vehicles headlights. i

it was getting closer

m/n looked around, there was nowhere to go in the narrow tunnel

closer

tears filled his eyes, but instead of sobbing he began laughing, only to break out into a fit of sobs and then revert back to laughter.

it was too close

suddenly a BANG was heard as the train came to a stop, the tunnel filled with black mist, which had somehow crushed the head of the train.

it was not natural, it was.. dark magic.

• it was on the front page of the daily prophet the next day 'OBSCURIAL SIGHTING IN SOUTH LONDON SUBWAY' obscurials were no common occurance, the last one was reported in the 1930's, new york.

• it wasn't a cured illness, no, the circumstances of it's development had simply become less common. children of all blood status' had access to education in order to facilitate their powers, and there were muggleborn programs across the world to ensure they did not develop one either.

• it had the ministry stumped. there were no leads on the obscurus, nor was a body found to sugget the outburst had caused the hosts death.

• albus dumbledore was no stranger to obscurials, he had lost so much to them, his sister, his nephew — but he knew well what power the host of one held. and the key role one could play in the coming war.

• which is why he had to find the obscurial before the ministry, or lord voldemort did.

"i am not here to hurt you, m/n" the headmaster called out, slowly approaching the young wizard, who's wand was drawn. "what spell do you plan to use, child?" the older man chimed, it was no secret m/n l/n was never the best with applied magic, like he was with potions or magical creatures

m/n's wand arm shook, "petrificus totalus" upon speaking the words, his wand shot out a spell, of which dumbledore blocked. hitting into the ground, the concrete began to degrade.

terrified, m/n dropped his wand, eyes glassy and wide "i didn't- i have to go" he stuttered out

"there are people who will hurt you, who will use you as a weapon" dumbledore moved closer to the boy who was now shaking "i can help, you can help, you don't have to be the monster the obscurus compels you to be" they were now face to face, or beard to cheek, as m/n couldn't break his eyes away from the concrete.

when the boy nodded, the headmaster took his arm, and a loud POP sounded through the air.

the next day, m/n attended breakfast as if he had not been missing for the past two weeks.

the headmaster had given him his own room under the guise of spacing issues, perhaps having an escape would make this year less hellish, or maybe spending too much time alone would exuberate his growing instability.

at least he could kill one of his tormenters without any witnesses now.

a couple people stared at him as he made his way to the great hall, lovegood had even greeted him. albeit she held the quibbler she had with her close to her chest.

"salazar!" he heard a familiar voice exclaim from behind him, arms wrapping around him "where have you been, l/n" he didn't like the way malfoy was looking at him, it was soft "i thought- i thought you had done something stup-"

m/n was quick to shove off malfoys embrace, rather roughly, before turning around to walk away.

he was pulled back, he now saw malfoys eyes were glassy, as if he was about to cry. what a baby, m/n thought, he wasn't listening to whatever bollocks was coming out malfoys mouth, instead he just glared "and i'm sorry if i was the reason-"

"malfoy, just go cry about this to the house elves, they get paid to care i don't"

and with that, m/n was off, ignoring zabini and nott who were staring at him as he shoved past.

• as the days went by, his tormentors wouldn't leave him alone, but they weren't doing what they always had, they were being nice. which scared him even more. perhaps because niceness was so foreign or because he knew it had to be a ploy for their next big trick.

• he wanted to be left alone by them but there was no way out. they held him in chokeholds they called hugs and suffocated him with what they called kisses.

• they sat with him in class and one of them was always partnered up with him, but they just wanted to sabotage his grades, and get him expelled.

• they were no longer hostile towards him but towards each other, whenever one caught him with another, they'd fight each other with wits or fists.

• they dragged him to their dorm every night and drew sticks to decide who he would be stuck with for the night. he never slept those nights, they were just waiting for him to fall asleep so they could do something horrible.

• but he rarely ever slept at all these days, which is what contributed to the paranoia that led him to leaving.

• the only reason he stayed was for headmaster dumbledore, who had been attempting to help him learn to control the obscurus, to no avail. when the headmaster was outcast by the ministry, there was no reason to stay and wait to get caught for what he was.

"do you understand your fault, mr l/n" the sickeningly sweet sound of umbridges voice filled his ears, it was more painful than the cuts inflicted on him by the quill he had been forced to write with.

blood was trickling down to the floor, the words that he had been made to write indecipherable, covered in the blood they had drawn. "i must not disrespect the high inquisitor" he uttered, teeth clenched.

"i don't think you understand, mr l/n, twenty more lines"

he remained still, staring at the blood on the carpet, then at the decorative plates embeded with cats, and then at umbridges face.

"i quit"

"pardon, mr l/n?"

m/n stood up out of his chair, dropping the quill on the floor "i'm leaving hogwarts" he threw his wand on the table he had been forced to maim himself at, before storming out of the room.

• the news soon reached the slytherins that their beloved m/n had left the school, leaving them bewildered.

• when draco tried to find the reader by having his father get in contact with the l/n's, it finally hit them that m/n had been disowned, rendering their previous efforts to keep him useless.

BLAISE ZABINI

• blaise is probably the most crushed. his entire plan involved arranging a marriage with the reader, which was now impossible. but what upsets him more is that m/n never even told him. five months and not one mention of being disowned.

• he's mad at the reader until he comes to know the reason for the reader being disowened - because of all he and the other slytherins had done to make it seem like he was a blood traitor.

• blaise hated himself for being a part of it all, but above all, he hated the other slytherins for starting it all. it was draco's fault they all started tormenting him, it was mattheos fault they took it to the extreme.

DRACO MALFOY

• draco had his suspicions from the moment m/n returned, his father had mentioned in passing about the l/n's and how dissapointed they were in their son. but it usually ended in lucius praising draco for being such a good son, so he had never paid it much mind.

• it was his fault, he knew it. he hated feeling powerless but that's what he felt as his father told him m/n hadn't gone back home. m/n didn't have a home. he could be out there all on his own, exposed to the dangers of the muggle world..

• his obsession only grew after m/n left hogwarts, every moment of every day he wondered where he was, if he was okay, if he was with anyone. if he was with anyone he'd end them.

LORENZO BERKSHIRE

• enzo had been told by his parents a few months ago they were unable to arrange a marriage because m/n had been disowned. not that he told anyone else, let them think they have him whilst lorenzo makes m/n fall in love with him.

• except his every advance was met with rejection or hostility. and when m/n left for good he was devastated, how were they supposed to live out their love story now?

• lorenzo confronts the other slytherins when the news m/n had left reached them, which is what led to the realization that they were all sickly obsessed with the ravenclaw.

MATTHEO RIDDLE

• something had been strange about m/n the moment he returned, mattheo saw it in his eyes. whether it was what he had gone through the previous years still haunting him, or something else, mattheo tries to get m/n to talk to him, but he's.. mattheo, who once broke m/n's ribcage from beating him.

• it was impossible to foster any trust no matter what he did. he tries to talk about his own struggles, his cruel father and upbringing. he tries to treat m/n like a porcelain doll, but the walls never go down.

• hell hath no rage like a riddle scorned, mattheo would have killed umbridge if tom hadn't stopped him. but he wasn't done with just her, the l/n's were next on his path of rage, and there was little anyone could do to stop him from inflicting a painful death on them

THEODORE NOTT

• theo could barely handle m/n's reluctance to warm up to him, it took every bit of strength in him not to yell and force m/n into opening up, accepting his affection, but m/n not being there at all? theo goes off the rails.

• he fears the worst, what if.. m/n.. theo thinks to himself every moment he's not thinking about how to get him back. when draco tells him m/n was disowned, he broke down crying in the bathroom when he was alone later.

• the world was not safe for a young wizard with no wand or money. what if the dark lord went after him for being a blood traitor. theo went with mattheo to threaten umbridge, and figure out where m/n would have gone.

TOM RIDDLE

• tom could see all the pain m/n was going through when he used legilimency on him. he saw the abuse, the torment, the self hatred, and he knew what the reader had been through and become.

• he's furious that m/n's own parents would disown him, as if he was disposable. it reminded him too much of his own father. but he puts his emotions aside to focus on what really mattered, finding and keeping m/n.

• tom was the only one who had figured out m/n's condition, and used it to his advantage, telling his father that the reader was the obscurus the ministry had been looking for, making m/n voldemorts new target for capture.

tracking down an obscurial was not as simple as the dark lord had anticipated it to be, which is why he delegated the task to his eldest son who had first hand experience with the boy, m/n l/n.

coming to a stop as the sight of the boy filled tom vision, the young death eater watched as m/n stared down his reflection in the water. tom slowly came closer, wand at the ready, until his own reflection revealed his presence.

"you look horrible" the boy turned to face tom as he spoke "you here to kill me, riddle?" m/n sounded resigned, like he had already accepted it.

but that was not what tom was there for. "the dark lord wants you within his ranks" tom stated, avoiding m/n's dead gaze. "what the dark lord wants does not concern me" m/n took a step back, he was scared, tom could tell.

"are you going to make this difficult for me, m/n?" tom took a step closer, snaking an arm around the males waist.

before m/n had the chance to try and stab him in the eye with his own wand, tom stunned him, knocking him out, as lord voldemort came out of the shadows "well done, son" tom looked down at m/n's unconscious face as they apparated. you'll love me oneday.

• the readers condition certainly complicates things for the slytherins, it's no longer simply just subjugate him whether he likes it or not, the readers stability is the difference between life or death, freedom or azkaban for them.

• he becomes the dark lords puppet project, a weapon to use against the order of the phoenix and a tool to keep the future of the death eaters loyal.

• he never returns to hogwarts, tom made sure he was outted as the obscurial so that he'd never have anywhere to run, everywhere he could go he would be seen as a threat, a monster.

• an all-out war breaks out bewteen the slytherins once they have the reader in their grasp again. no one is willing to relent, m/n belongs to them. not the others, them.

• the slytherins would slowly come to the realisation there was no single 'winner', none of them could ever have a normal life with him now the dark lord was back and he had developed an obscurus.

• instead the focus would switch into keeping m/n safe, from voldemort, from himself, from the ministry, from everything.

TOM RIDDLE

• out of all of them, tom can handle m/n's obscurus the best. mostly because he's level headed enough not to set him off. sure he has some sadistic tendencies but at the cost of his own, and surrounding lives?

• tom's obsession was exuberated by the obscurus, it made his darling all the more appealing. to hold such power over someone so powerful is what drives him to sometimes provoke the obscurus, to see what potential m/n truly holds.

• sometimes he goes to far and gets someone or himself seriously injured. he wants to help his darling learn to control the obscurus, but it's hard to acheive when he himself also wants to control his darling.

THEODORE NOTT

• theo is frankly horrified when he finds out m/n had developed an obscurus. he had only ever heard stories about obscurials dying young, after an outburst they can't control.

• he wonders how long m/n had suffered with it for. in the back of his mind, he hopes it was before hogwarts, or else he truly was an absolute piece of shit, to help torment the one he loves most into such a despairful illness.

• theo spends the time he's not with his darling searching through the old pureblood libraries for even a hint of a cure. he wanted to be with his darling forever, but the oldest obscurial only ever lived until 23. theo won't stop until he can figure out how to get rid of the obscurus.

MATTHEO RIDDLE

• mattheo knows he's most likely the reason, above all the other slytherins, for the readers affliction. he was the one who chased him into dark hallways and used the torture curse, the one who said the nastiest things, the one who went the furthest with the torment.

• he wishes he could take all his darlings pain away. because one wrong word, one accidental touch, could send him over the edge. a world without his darling is what scares him the most, above everything fucked up in the wizarding world.

• so he treats m/n like a single bump would shatter him. it's difficult, mattheo isn't exactly the super soft type, but he tries, he knows if any of the slytherins caught m/n looking upset around him they'd end him.

LORENZO BERKSHIRE

• enzo underestimates the readers condition, until he finally see's it for himself one day when snape had called m/n a freak, and he exploded. safe to say, it terrified enzo.

• he's under the impression that if he loves m/n enough, the obscurus will go away. deep down he knows it won't, but it helps him justify the heap of affection he doses his darling in. his heart breaks when he's pushed away and he knows pushing back could result in the worst.

• lorenzo is the readers number one caretaker. he always reminds them to eat and get sleep and not to stress about anything. he tries to treat them as normally as possible but it gets difficult when the obscurus mentality kicks in and m/n starts talking about killing them all.

DRACO MALFOY

• draco isn't quite sure how to approach his dear darling after finding out he's an obscurial. draco is overcome with guilt for the hand he had in it, and abominably frustrated he can't just force the reader into doing what he wants.

• when he becomes a death eater he begins to fear for his darlings safety, he hears what the dark lord says about his plans including m/n, and it scares him. there's no regard for m/n's safety or survival, the dark lords only goal is to set m/n off when he takes hogwarts for a quick and easy victory.

• draco tries to get closer to m/n by playing the dependent rich boy, who doesn't know how to do anything for himself. draco figures that if m/n starts to feel responsible for him, it'll be harder for him to leave or say no.

BLAISE ZABINI

• blaises mother told him to stay far away from m/n when she found out. if it were anyone else he would take her advice, but this was his darling, and he could never abandon him over a small imperfection.

• he's the easiest to be around among them all, he doesn't feel the need to always been touching or talking to the reader which is usually what sets him off.

• blaise tries to help m/n settle back into normal life (normal meaning non socially isolated endlessly tormented), but years of torment has taken it's toll in more ways than one. sometimes m/n will accuse blaise and the others of the strangest things, but they all have to take it in stride, or else risk an outburst.

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catnipaddictt · 5 months ago

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Hi! I’m not sure if requests are still open but I’m currently watching Higher Ground right now and I’m in love with Scott (is anyone surprised)! I was wondering if you could write a short fic about him comforting the reader when he finds out that she’s self harming? Totally get it if not.

scott barringer x gn!reader

wc: 0.8k

cw: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, angst, mentions of self harm, reader has a history of sh, heavy topics, if you are not doing okay please read with caution

comment: hey anon, thanks for the request <3 This one deals with some heavier topics so reader discretion is advised

You were lying down in your cabin when you heard the loud movement of Scott's feet on the hardwood floors. His steps came closer and closer until you felt the bed dip as he sat down.

You roll over to face him and are greeted by the blonde’s messy hair and piercing blue eyes.

Scott had been at New Horizons far longer than you had and he knew his way around. When you had been put into the program by your concerned parents, Scott was given the task of showing you around. Although he wasn't too happy about being your ‘babysitter’ for the first few weeks, you grew on him.

You shared the same sense of humor and had similar taste in a range of things. Eventually you two had become close friends, always sneaking out to the docks together and making fun of the outdoor activities you were subjected to.

You thought you had been getting better, even the counselors believed so. There was even talk of sending you home in a few weeks to test the waters. You were looking forward to sleeping in your own bed for the first time in months. Until you realised that going back home meant leaving your new friends, including Scott, behind. You didn't want to give them up.

It had started small. Taking too hot showers that left your skin red and raw. Picking at the skin around your nails and chewing the inside of your mouth until it bled. But it wasn't enough for you. You knew relapsing was bad and that you shouldn't be doing this to yourself. But you couldn't help it. You didn't know how to deal with your only emotions any differently.

Scott speaks before you do. “Are you alright? You've been acting off and I don't fucking like it.” He looks at you, studying your face for any signs of anything wrong. You immediately turn defensive at his questioning. Shooting him down with a “I'm fine Scott, just tired.”

He speaks your name. “You're been tired for a week and a half. I haven't seen you at all basically. You haven't even been at dinner for Christ's sake.”

You turn over, facing the wall instead of Scott's gaze. “Don't shut me out” he responds to your actions, placing a hand on your shoulder to roll you back over harshly. “What is wrong with you?” you practically yell at him, you use your anger to push his hand off of you, “Get out.”

His eyes widen at your outburst, letting you shove his hand off your shoulder and getting to his feet. He is momentarily stunned before his eyes soften. “How long?” Is all he says.

You roll back over to inspect the wall again, ignoring the question. “Y/n How long?” He repeats clearly. Your legs come up to your chest in a fetal position, and you bury your head in them. You feel his weight sit on the end of your bed. “You can't keep doing this to yourself” he says softly.

You stay silent, hoping that he will get the memo and leaving you alone. You didn't want to have this discussion. Scott places his head in his hands, thinking, before he looks at your curled up figure. “Come on, speak to me please, so I can help you.” He practically begs.

You can help the tears that build up in your eyes, and slide down your face. You didn't want to be like this. Scott hears your racked sobs and his heart shatters. All he knows is that he needs to comfort you and make sure you are alright.

You feel the bed dip again and then a warm body pressing against your back. Scott's arm wraps around your waist pulling you closer to his chest. You let the tears fall as he whispers in your ear that it's going to be alright and that he is going to help.

His hand rubs soothing circles over your shirt where your hip rests, making you feel more grounded than you had a few minutes ago. His hushed tone and gentle words make you feel safe in his arms, letting you know that he cares more than he lets on.

He slowly turns you in his arms, so that your head is tucked under his. You sobs shake your frame, and he lets you cry into his cotton t-shirt. Slowly your tears come to a stop and he speaks to you softly, “it's going to be alright, okay? We're going to get you some help and you will be better again.” He places his lips against your forehead after you nod slightly but enough for him to feel.

You spend the rest of the day flush against Scott as he assures you that it will work out. A glimmer of hope erupts in your chest.

Please please please reach out if you are struggling. You are on this earth and you are loved. Below are some helplines if you are having a tough time. My messages are ALWAYS open if you need someone to talk to. 💙💙💙

Helplines

Taglist: @heartsforanakin @qvnthesia @ysrjune @anisscarletstarlet

#hayden christensen #hayden christensen imagine #hayden christensen x reader #higher ground #higherground #higher ground tv show #scott barringer #scott higher ground #scott barringer x reader #scott barringer x you #hayden christensen x you

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quiteliterallyilliterate · 10 months ago

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I saw your post and I think to ask you for a Yandere! Wild but Imagine this, isekai! Reader doesn't know anything about him or his game, is only a confused person who doesn't know how he got to this place.

Anyway, thanks for read this and sorry for my bad English, My first lenguaje is spanish and I'm not very sure for my English.

Order up!

I genuinely really like this idea so this was a lot of fun to write.

Enjoy!~

Tw: Yandere, obsessive, mentions of murder

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

Long past were the days Link would protect anyone but himself. In the aftermath of the calamity, villagers were weary of those who traversed the land and of good reason. Many who did were simply were insane with the thought of leaving their inconsequential little hamlet to see the shattered world. Hatred for fellow man ran rampant, but the crazed look in the eyes of few who’ve lost themselves to Hyrule, Link couldn’t blame people’s cautiousness. Besides, it simply wasn’t within in his best interest being a protector anymore. There wasn’t much to really speak about the issue— Zelda probably would have if she were here, but she wasn’t, so blissful silence stood. He held no love in his heart for the people of Hyrule, much as they had none for him. They turned their backs on him, and so he does similarly to them. But you… you weren’t of Hyrule. So it was only natural to him that you’d be the exception.

Sent to him by strings of blue light, you awoke confused at first. You knew nothing of the lands nor people he spoke of, and eventually reached the conclusion that, you too were out of place in the world that now was. He couldn’t simply leave you at Hateno —they were cautious to accept him, they would never accept you as you are— so, instead, he just had to keep you. He played knight once before, so had hard could it truly be. So while you attuned yourself to your reality —while still ripping away for a chance back home, one he simply couldn’t permit— all he had to do was kill what turned their blades on you. It was rhythmic and mindless. But, as it turns out, He found it oddly more enjoyable to play knight when there was someone to kiss his wounds better after busting ass so you’d be safe. In reality it was you that made it worthwhile, not the work. You’d brush his hair and braid it so it wouldn’t mat, whispering stories of your home. Stories that much resembled myths with how far they were out of his hands. Stories you spoke through tight lips as he smiled. Stories that filled his head long after you stopped speaking. He’s never been much keen on people —or were they never keen on him?— and yet he couldn’t grapple if it was normal to feel this much over your friends.

His devotion to you was rooted deep within him, stiff and unwavering. It wound through his battered heart, patching it whole. As time passed and the roots grew deeper and deeper, lodging themselves more and more, he found his line of work expand. Monsters caused a threat, sure, but that begs the question— what really is a monster? That man who was following you? No way to tell what was going through his head. But it was better you’d be safe rather than him being alive. The mean shopkeep, patronising you for not fitting into a tunic? She’d ought to be nicer now she has no tongue. Homeless man lunging at your ankle? Can’t beg if he has no hands. All in the matter of keeping you safe. Hyrule was a very, very dangerous place. But you were lucky to have the Hero at your bidding. He waited on your call, on your order. Especially since you always made it worth it in ways of food and whatnot. He’d have given you his heart unseasoned if it meant you’d give him a kiss on the cheek. He’d forge the ring if it’d mean you’d marry him. He’d build a house where no man nor monster could find it so you’d live safe. He’d kill ganon a million times over so long as he could fall into your arms afterwards. You must understand how much he loves you. The time and care he’s put in, the blood he’s spilt in your name, he loves you. So much. Too much. Too much to let you go home to your stories. Your home is with him now.

#link x reader #botw link #yandere link x reader #yan!link #botw!link xreader #lu wild #lu wild x reader

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hollowed-theory-hall · 8 months ago

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Identification in the Wizarding World

I don't remember how I got to thinking about it, but wizards in Harry Potter don't seem to really have IDs... like no license cards or social security numbers, and that kind of begs the question of how you prove you are who you are. So I went to the books to see if it was ever answered, and to my surprise — it was.

Wands are their IDs

I'm gonna explain where in the books it's written and how it seems to work since I just didn't really see anyone mention it, and I found it curious. I'm not sure if it was just me who was a bit dumb and didn't notice it or what, but I do want to write about it.

“Madam Lestrange!” said the goblin, evidently startled. “Dear me! How- how may I help you today?” “I wish to enter my vault,” said Hermione. The old goblin seemed to recoil a little. Harry glanced around. Not only was Travers hanging back, watching, but several other goblins had looked up from their work to stare at Hermione. “You have . . . identification?” asked the goblin. “Identification? I-I have never been asked for identification before!” said Hermione. “They know!” whispered Griphook in Harry’s ear, “They must have been warned there might be an imposter!” “Your wand will do, madam,” said the goblin. He held out a slightly trembling hand, and in a dreadful blast of realization Harry knew that the goblins of Gringotts were aware that Bellatrix’s wand had been stolen.

(Deathly Hollows, page 452)

So, I'll start with this scene in Deathly Hollows, in which a Gringott's Goblin outright says a wand can be used for identification. The Golden Trio here shows the disadvantage of such an identification method, as wands can be stolen. And besides, how would a wand even work for identification? Like, how does it prove you are who you say you are?

Well, I think I know how wands are supposed to function as identification, and it's not as bad and easily fakable as it may seem. I'm not saying it's perfect, but if implemented correctly it isn't the worst they could come up with.

After all, everyone has a wand (at least in the Western Wizarding World) and everyone carries their wand with them everywhere and at all times. Not only that, but wands are unique enough to work as an ID. Wand description is broken into 6 components of its making: wood, core, flexibility, length, the wandmaker, and how long it's been in use, making each wand unique to the specific individual wielding it. Therefore a wand is something reasonable to use to identify individuals.

So, how is it supposed to work?

“Wand weighing?” Harry repeated nervously. “We have to check that your wands are fully functional, no problems, you know, as they’re your most important tools in the tasks ahead,”

(Goblet of Fire, page 303)

Wand weighing.

In GOF, the wand weighing is shown to tell the characteristics of each wand, and if we jump ahead to Arthur Weasley's and Harry's arrival in the ministry for Harry's trial in OOTP:

“Visitor to the Ministry, you are required to submit to a search and present your wand for registration at the security desk, which is located at the far end of the Atrium.”

(Order of the Phoenix, page 126)

“Wand,” grunted the security wizard at Harry, putting down the golden instrument and holding out his hand. Harry produced his wand. The wizard dropped it onto a strange brass instrument, which looked something like a set of scales with only one dish. It began to vibrate. A narrow strip of parchment came speeding out of a slit in the base. The wizard tore this off and read the writing upon it. “Eleven inches, phoenix-feather core, been in use four years. That correct?” “Yes,” said Harry nervously. “I keep this,” said the wizard, impaling the slip of parchment on a small brass spike. “You get this back,” he added, thrusting the wand at Harry.

(Order of the Phoenix, page 128)

We see exactly how wand weighing (the brass scale Harry describes) is meant to identify. This device prints out the makings of the wand when it was sold, and probably more information than Eric at the security desk reads out. He then asks Harry if it's correct because wands don't have their making and when they were bought written on them. This means only the wand's owner would supposedly remember all the details of the wandmaker, make, and when it was bought, then by asking about it, it can be revealed if the wand was stolen or not.

It's not a great method, but it's something.

It's not any dramatic revelation about the Wizarding World, I just didn't really see wands being used as IDs in the fandom and I found it interesting. I just really am interested in the Wizarding World as a culture and how it works. IDs are just part of it.

#harry potter #harry potter thoughts #harry potter theory #hp theory #wizarding world #hollowedtheory #hp #overthinking #hp thoughts #hp meta #harry potter meta

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harrygoeswest · 2 years ago

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Love Aged Like Fine Wine

Harry is drunk and lost not too far from home, and there's only one person he wants to call to rescue him.

A/N: Hello everyone 👋🏼 it has been a loooong time since I posted anything on Tumblr, and I was admittedly reluctant to do so. However, I reblogged the lovely Sarah's (@harry-on-broadway) fic challenge the other day and it inspired me, and I would be doing a disservice to write the whole thing and never look at it again, especially since I quite like it. SO, I give you my first one shot in over a year. Bear with me, I'm a bit rusty... Special mention as always to Miss Liz (@all-things-fic) for reading and validating me.

I'm using prompts 14 & 19.

Trigger Warnings: Absolutely nothing (apart from the odd f word)

Word Count: 6533

~~~

“What do you want, Harry?”

An offended scoff was his initial response. “Not a very nice way t’greet y’best friend.”

He was right, it wasn’t. “You’re not my best friend.”

“Ouch. Though’ we were besties ‘n now y’makin’ me feel sad.”

Harry was slurring more than he usually did. I feared if he tried to say obviously, ‘overshly’ would turn into a soft, deep single syllable alike to the word ‘shush’. It wasn’t particularly late to warrant his level of drunkenness. Especially on a Tuesday evening. Chewsday, if you will.

“Harsh truths are easier to take when you’re drunk.” I said, shrugging as if he could see the action.

“Why’re y’bein’ so ‘orrible?” He whined.

“Why are you calling me pissed as a fart at 8:45 on a Tuesday night and ruining my bath time?”

“‘S there some space lef’ in the bathtub?”

“Don’t make it weird.” I grimaced. “What’s going on?”

He produced an incoherent mumble. I heard the rain get heavier, both on the phone call and outside my house.

“What was that?”

“M’st…”

“Aye?” I asked, my face surely a bewildered picture.

“I’m lost.” He huffed, agitated.

I sat up in the bath, water and suds sloshing around me. “Lost?”

“Yes.”

“W-,” words failed me, and I barked out a sharp laugh. “How are you lost?”

“How does anyone else get lost?” He said, stroppy.

“Wow, you really are drunk.”

He hummed, but it was a defeated noise. “C’ya come ‘n get me?”

“How am I supposed to come and get you if you don’t know where you are?”

“Well I was only at The Holly Bush.”

I laughed twice as hard that time. Put in perspective, The Holly Bush is no more than a ten minute walk from Harry’s house. “How long have you been walking?”

“‘Bout ‘alf an hour.” He muttered.

Now I was really howling, like a hyena on laughing gas. “Jesus Christ, Harry!”

“‘S not funny!”

“On the contrary, years of comedy begs to differ.”

He practically cried my name down the phone. “‘M really tired ‘n cold ‘n… weh,” I think he meant wet, “please come get me.”

I took a deep breath and mourned my premature bath. “Fine. But do not move from wherever you are.”

“Won’t.”

I stood up and watched water and soap suds cascade down my body with a pout. “What can you see?”

“Er…” a pause followed, I assumed for his vacant thoughts. “‘S like a lot of trees.”

I rolled my eyes. “That could literally be any part of the Heath, mate. Say more words.”

“I can’t see shit! It’s dark and it’s pissing it down!”

“Don’t get arsey or you can stay there and drown in rain water.” I warned him. “Find a road sign. Or a street name.”

He grunted. After no more than fifteen seconds he produced, “Platt’s Lane.”

“Alright, I know where that is. I’ll be as quick as I can.”

“Thank you.” He said. At least I think that’s what he said.

I murmured a little, “Sure,” and then hung up.

I dressed quickly in the easiest clothes I could find - a pair of tie-dye jogging bottoms, an old t-shirt and a crewneck over the top. I pulled on the first pair of trainers I could find and ran out to my car whilst fighting the rain. I also took a towel with me. My hair was still in the bun I’d put it up in for my bath.

It was really battering it down now - it was loud inside the car and the windows were steamed up. It was even louder when I turned the air conditioning on to defog the windows.

Once I could see outside the front and back windows I finally made my way to find Harry. I still mourned my bath as I drove - I missed how warm it was and how comfortable I had been. Now I was out in the cold and wet to rescue my drunken idiot friend.

It didn’t take me very long to find said drunken idiotic friend. He was sitting on a yellow grit box under some trees at the junction of Platt’s Lane and West Heath Road. He was soaking, shoulders slumped and looking at the floor. I pulled up as close to him as possible and leaned over to push the door open.

“Get in, you moron!” I called.

Harry looked up at the sound of my voice. He leapt to his feet almost immediately after, and staggered his way over to my little car. He nearly tripped over twice on his way, and he hit his head as he sat down.

“Fucking hell.” I muttered. “Look at the state of you.”

He grumbled, readjusting his sodden jacket, and then looked right at me. His hair was drenched, water dripping from his neck down his arms and chest, and his forehead down his nose and cheeks.

“Here,” I threw the towel at him. “You’re gonna make my car smell.”

“‘S tha’ the wors’ a’ya problems?” He asked, a snide tone laced in his mushy words.

“I wish it was.”

I pulled off again as Harry began to attempt to dry himself off, although I feared a towel would do very little to help him. Fortunately we were only a mere five minute drive from his house anyway. He probably could have walked home faster if he were sober.

It was a relatively quiet drive since Harry spent most of it rubbing my towel over every available inch of his body. He did however sing along to the one song he heard playing, but he didn’t quite have the same masterful tone as usual. He even seemed quite timid.

I parked as close as possible to his front door and shut the engine off.

“Where are your keys, H?”

He gave me a dopey blink and then looked down at himself, double chin appearing accompanied with a pouty lower lip. “Dunno. On me somewhere.”

I sighed and unclipped my seatbelt, then reached over to him to feel through each of his pockets for his house keys. Of course I found them in the hardest one to reach on the inside of his jacket. He giggled while I did, like a child being tickled. I smacked him on the arm before I got out of the car.

I ran up to the front door and unlocked it, opening it so that my paralytic companion could be jettisoned inside his home as quickly as possible without getting more wet.

“Come on, then,” I said as I opened the passenger door, my shoulders hunched because the rain felt weird on my neck.

Harry practically fell out of the car at my instruction, so I lifted him up and placed his arm around my shoulder so I could manage his weight better. I kicked the car door shut behind us and walked him to the door. I realised on our little walk how unfit I was.

“‘M sorry.” He mumbled.

“It’s fine.” I said, my voice tight. It was only strained because he was heavy and I was weak.

“Didn’t even think I drank tha’ much, was only few whiskeys.”

Only a few could range anything between 3 and 30. I didn’t chide him for that. “It’s alright, Harry. I’m sure you’d do the same for me.” I meant that genuinely and not as a threat I’d be getting that level of drunk in the future just to call him to rescue me.

“Would.” He insisted.

I awkwardly held onto him as we got inside, twisting at an awkward angle to close the door and keep any more rain from getting in. Harry felt like dead weight against me.

“Ready to get upstairs?”

His affirming nod was the surest action I’d seen from him this far.

“Alright,” I took a deep breath, “let’s go.”

I made sure we navigated the stairs one at a time, because I had visions of him tripping up and cracking his head open if he tried to do anything by himself. And now, in the warmth of his massive home and up this close to him, the boy reeked of stale beer and sweat. I didn’t want to ask what he’d been doing in The Holly Bush for him to get that bad. I hadn’t seen him that wasted in a very long time.

“Meant it, y’know.” He slurred.

We were only halfway up the stairs and all I could hear was my own panting. Admittedly I was surprised he hadn’t passed out yet.

“Meant what?” I heaved, and pushed him up the next step.

“I w’ do the same f’you.”

“I know you would.”

“Don’t even have t’ be drunk.”

“Right.”

We stopped for a minute, not at anyone’s request but Harry didn’t seem to want to move. I looked at him as he did me, and he produced this hazy-eyed, closed-lip smile.

His woolly but content expression made me laugh. “I think it’s bed time for you, mate.”

He groaned. “Don’t call me ‘mate’.”

I frowned. “Alright. Sorry.”

When we finally reached the top of the stairs, Harry collapsed on me by way of a hug. We were standing in the middle of the hallway, his entire body somehow wrapped around mine. I was suffocating in the smell of a brewery.

“Don’t leave me.” He begged.

“I’m not… Need to get you to bed somehow.”

He pulled his head back to look at me, eyes heavy. “You can take me to bed.”

“That’s what I just said.”

He nodded repeatedly like a bobble-head figure.

I made a face, perturbed, and nudged him in the direction of his bedroom. He nearly fell over as he turned around, and ended up palming the wall the rest of the way. I kept a hand on his back just in case.

As soon as he saw his bed he was climbing onto it, still fully clothed and in his muddy trainers.

“For fuck’s sake,” I muttered, reaching after him like he was a toddler, “Harry, take your shoes off.”

He laughed maniacally into his bed sheets, the muffled sound disturbing.

I huffed with a scowl and did it myself. His vans were dripping wet so I took them to the radiator and left them on top to dry. I made sure the radiator was turned on, too. The last thing Harry Styles needed was the flu again.

He was sitting up now, watching me with a warm expression. I ignored it.

“Need to take your clothes off or you’ll get a cold.”

“Yes, Miss.” He was beaming now.

The attempt at taking his t-shirt off was painful, and I ended up having to help him.

“Jeans too.”

I knew that would be more agonising to watch than the t-shirt, and I didn’t want to have to look at his bare chest for too long, so I went for a walk to the closest bathroom to get another towel. His jeans were still around his knees when I got back.

“Jesus Christ.” I said through gritted teeth, and freed his jeans from around his ankles. They were a heavy kind of damp and thudded when I put them on the floor.

“‘S cold.” He commented, staring up at me.

“I’ve just put the radiator on.” I told him, and handed him the towel. “I’ll find you some clean pants.”

I left him to dry his no doubt tacky chest and legs while I searched through his drawers for some clean underwear. I threw them at him once I’d located them.

“Where’s your laundry basket?”

“Wardrobe.” He said, voice getting gruff.

I collected his dirty clothes from off the floor again and wandered into the walk-in wardrobe attached to his bedroom. I stared at it for a while, not just because it was ginormous but also because I couldn’t believe the amount of crap in it. It was bulging with clothes - some I hadn’t seen him wear for years and others I hadn’t seen him wear at all. Ever.

I dropped the clothes in my hand onto the overflowing basket in one of the cupboards, hating to do so because it was just adding to more chores. And then I realised that this was not my house and I would not be responsible for washing any of his clothes.

“Harry, do you want something to wear in bed if you’re cold?”

He never answered.

I peered into the bedroom to see he’d already tucked himself into bed.

“I guess not.” I muttered.

I stood next to his bed and watched him for a minute. His eyes were closed and he was breathing regularly but I couldn’t work out if he was actually asleep or just pretending to be. His eyelids looked shiny and delicate and his cheeks were dusted pink - a combination of his inebriation and being outside in the cold for so long. I could hear the radiator chugging and it was definitely warmer than it had been when we arrived.

Without thinking, still staring at him while possibly passed out like a lunatic creep, I wrapped my index finger around one of his curls and moved it out of his face.

He giggled suddenly, catching my wrist. “That tickled.”

I smacked his hand away. “I thought you were asleep, you absolute git!”

“Not yet.”

I rolled my eyes and scowled at him. “I’m goin’ home. Seeing you in bed is making me want mine.”

“Can always share mine.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” I scoffed, and made a move to leave. “I’ll check on you tomorrow.”

“Aye, wait!” He shouted at me.

“What?”

“I don’t want you t’ leave yet.”

“Well, I’m exhausted, and you’re about to pass out on me anyway.”

He said something that was complete and utter incoherent nonsense.

“I don’t know what you just said but I’m not changing my mind.”

He whined my name again and reached for my hand. “Please stay bit longer? Like havin’ y’here, havin’ y’around.”

“Well, that’s nice of you to say, but I still want my own bed.”

“Please?”

“No.” I stood my ground, but I took a step closer and pinched his cheek. “But I’ll come back tomorrow after work if that makes you feel better.”

“Feel better if y’stayed wi’ me now.”

“Well that’s not going to happen. Just call me if you need anything.”

“Need y’now. Need y’all the time.”

“Stop being daft.”

“‘M not bein’ daft - I mean it.”

“You are being daft. Just go to sleep - I’ll come back tomorrow. I promise.”

He stressed my name and sat up. “Y’not listenin’ to me. ‘M bein’ proper serious - I want ya t’ stay wi’ me. I need y’here.”

“No, what you need is sleep.”

He scowled at me.

“I’m going to go and get you a pint of water and a paracetamol and then I’m going home. And that’s the last we’re gonna say on this, end of.”

I left the room and found my way to the kitchen, though admittedly I did get lost on my way there since I’d only been here once before and it was a considerable amount of time ago. I did as promised and got him a pint of water and found some paracetamol in a drawer full of miscellaneous items close to the sink.

I couldn’t fathom why Harry was so needy, insobriety aside. We were friends, yes, and had been for some time, but we weren’t that close. Or perhaps we were and I just refused to admit it due to his increasing popularity and the fact that being perceived near him in the public eye terrified me. I was perfectly happy with my mundane job and my mundane life. I appreciated Harry for what he was - a friend -, and didn’t expect anything more or less from that level of our relationship. Nor had I ever, and it surprised me that he suddenly did.

Perhaps I was overthinking it all. That was likely.

I returned to Harry’s room to find him out of bed in just his pants.

“What are you doing?” I asked, putting the water and the tablets on his bedside table, trying to avoid looking at his chest.

“Need the loo.” He said without hesitation, and marched past me.

I sighed, watching after him until he was safely in the bathroom with the door closed, and then I perched on the edge of his bed with my head in my hands.

I was irritated, yes. I knew I shouldn’t be as irritated as I was, but I couldn’t help it. This was not the evening I had planned for myself. I was supposed to have an early night and go to work in the morning with a clear head and no bags under my eyes. Now I was going to look like the walking dead, and feel like it too.

I stood up again when Harry reappeared. I watched him stagger and sway across the corridor and it made me nervous. He tripped once and nearly smacked his face against the doorframe.

“Fucking hell, Harry.” I said, panicked, and reached forward to steady him.

He laughed, more a giggle of that from a small girl. “I’m so drunk.”

“I know you are. That’s why you need to get into bed.”

“I will, jus’ one more thing before I do,”

I thought he was going to start running riot around the house and I was going to have to chase after him, like a dog owner with a tyrannical pooch. But instead, he just wrapped his arms around my middle and shoved his face into the crook of my neck. His body was warm and it felt strange being this close to him when he had so little clothes on.

I let out a long breath, reciprocating it this time. “You’re a twat.”

He hummed when I stroked my hand over his damp hair. “Not very nice.”

“And yet still true.”

He grunted, but never moved a muscle. A moment of silence passed before he said anything else. “Thank you f’ comin’ to rescue me.”

“Sure, anytime.” I didn’t mean that. Or maybe I did, but I’d be bitter about it if it became a recurrence because I couldn’t stand to disappoint people who meant a lot to me.

He let me go, and I thought that was finally going to be the end of it. Instead, he took my face, quite harshly, between both of his hands until my cheeks squished. His gaze was dopey and warm again, but somehow different to last time. I couldn’t put my finger on it.

“Harry, that hurts.”

He ignored me. “I love you.” It sounded more like ‘ah luff you’ but that wasn’t relevant in the moment.

“Yeah, I love you too, now let go.” I was trying to pull his hands away but apparently he was still physically stronger than me even that drunk.

“No,” he shook his head at me and then brought what felt like my entire body against his chest. “I mean I really love you.”

I couldn’t see anything. I felt us begin to fall sideways, but with his strength I had absolutely no control over where we were going.

“Harry!” I screamed, still trying to fight him with no luck.

I think we hit the bed because the landing was softer than anticipated and Harry didn’t wince or flinch. That could also be attributed to the levels of alcohol in his body. He was probably majoritively quite numb.

“Y’like, my favourite person.” He said, voice much quieter now, and I could feel his nose in my hair. My face was pushed into his chest. “Want y’around all time. Rubbish a’ showin’ it but I miss y’when ‘m nor’ at home. ‘N I don’t mean everyone, I mean jus’ you.”

I was listening to him with baited breath. I’d never really been on the receiving end of ‘drunk words, sober thoughts’ - I was usually the one talking and making a fool of myself. Once I told my sister’s boyfriend (at the time) what I really thought of him in front of our entire family after keeping my mouth shut for so long. They broke up the next day and she came to live with me for a month. I felt almost paralysed now listening to Harry.

“Mus’ think ‘m nuts ‘cause I’ve never said anythin’ before, bur’m scared. You’re a scary woman.”

I tried not to take offence to that, even though it was likely true. I had tried for the longest time to give off a very ambiguous aura. I didn’t want anyone to know me, least not the real me. I liked the illusion of being dead inside even if I was far from it.

“Loved y’ for so long now I can’ ‘ide it anymore.” He was really slurring now and words were about to fail him. Somehow, he was still holding onto me. “‘M like tha’ 1975 song.” I wanted to ask which one, but I didn’t have to. He proceeded to sing the words, “I’m in love with you.”

Just once he sang them, maybe slightly off pitch but it still sounded good. Not sure it would hold up to any of his previous performances, but I’d take it.

I didn’t know what to say. I was in a state of shock to be honest and the thought of moving terrified me. But then his grip around me loosened, and he let out a singular loud snore.

I pulled back, horrified, to see his sleeping face - mouth wide open. Another snore was released. “You are fucking joking.”

I sat up, his limp body falling away from me. I smacked his arm in the hopes of waking him, but he never flinched. “Harry,” I said, hitting him again.

Still no movement.

“Oi.” Smack.

Nothing.

I didn’t know what to do. Who does that? Who makes an admission like that and then falls asleep? And why did it have to be this boy? I was speechless, and when I finally managed to clamber off the bed I was also useless.

I stared at him with a look of bewilderment, as he lay there passed out on his unmade bed, mouth agape and naked besides his white y-fronts. It was then that the reality of what he’d said hit me, and I started to cry.

I wasn’t angry or upset - I was overwhelmed. Drunkenly, Harry had just told me he loved me. Then immediately passed out. Now I was left with my own feelings and his and no one to talk to about it. What was I supposed to do?

I desperately wanted to leave and get some sleep, but I also couldn’t help but think that would be morally inappropriate. Leaving a friend alone while dangerously intoxicated was how 50% of all murder documentaries started. Not that Harry was likely to get killed by an intruder in his mansion complete with security fortress. But he might accidentally fall down the stairs or choke on his own vomit.

And yet, the idea of staying in this massive and unfamiliar house to process all those thoughts made me even more hysterical. The idea alone provoked a loud sob, and I quickly covered my mouth because it was such a horrendous sound.

I made my decision that instant. I put Harry properly into bed with all of my remaining strength, covered him with his duvet, and then I fled from his house like a bat out of hell. On my way out, I took his spare keys with me.

I barely slept that night. My head was swimming and even though I couldn’t keep my eyes open, my brain was in overdrive. That, and the cat was sleeping on my chest and purring right in my face. His whiskers tickled my nose.

I found myself thinking about the early stages of mine and Harry’s association.

I couldn’t have called him a friend when we first met because I hated him. I don’t think that feeling was ever reciprocated on his part but I couldn’t ever stand to be in the same room as him. Why? Because I felt the need to constantly contradict societal comments and beliefs. The world - at least people in my world - deemed him a golden boy who never did any wrong. I was convinced it wasn’t the case. My downfall was my lack of determination to prove it.

We met through mutual friends, as these things always seemed to happen. I couldn’t even remember which friend it was - neither me nor Harry talked to them anymore. But one day he was just there, and periodically from then onward he continued to show up. I couldn’t even remember when it was, but it was before he cut all his hair off. One Direction’s last few remaining days, perhaps? Anyway, he was suddenly omnipresent and came with an abundance of attention and it infuriated me.

I remember once, Harry confronted me on my obvious dislike for him. That was our first encounter collectively with ‘drunk words, sober thoughts’. I can’t remember exactly what I said but I wasn’t very nice and I remember the Bambi look in his eyes when I walked away from him. After that he was notably absent for some time. If I asked him about it now I’m not sure how honest he’d be about it. He was lucky enough to be able to claim work absences for long periods of time - I imagined he’d use that excuse. How truthful that would be, I didn’t know.

Our reconciliation came after that. He saw me alone in the nearby shop and asked me to join him for a coffee. I couldn’t really say no - it was a Sunday afternoon and I was only going back home to vegetate for the rest of the day. I think it was spring - I probably would’ve just read a book and gone to bed early. We spent the next 3 hours in Ginger & White, and after we got kicked out of there we went up to The Holly Bush, ironically.

I saw a different side to Harry that night, and I always put it down to having him to myself. There was no one else there with us apart from the locals in the pub who wouldn’t bat an eyelid. It was just us, and he was unapologetically himself, as was I. We suddenly had an entirely new perception of one another - a higher level of understanding. On that random Sunday evening alone, I came to appreciate Harry for just being Harry. I saw who he really was, and I liked him.

From then on, I enjoyed his company. It became a regular thing - an afternoon doing something random together, just the two of us. And it ranged from simple coffee shop talks to entire day trips out of London. I realised then that what we’d basically been doing was dating for about 5 years with no physical contact.

I laughed out loud, disturbing the cat. He ran off and left me alone.

We’d had our own intimate relationships with other people outside of our friendship, which I guess is why I’d never thought about it that way before. He also seemed to do that with multiple other people - I wasn’t the only one. Was I?

I never had to apologise for the night I was rude to him. I always wondered why, and I always berated myself for not saying I was sorry. I’d admitted I was wrong about him a long time ago, but only to myself. It seemed a bit too late to do it now, but I assumed he’d forgiven me. I could’ve been wrong.

I think I finally fell asleep around 4am. My alarm for work went off just 3 hours later and I burst into tears as soon as I realised the situation I was in. I called into work sick and went straight back to sleep.

How much more sleep I had was uncertain. It felt like only 2 hours, but it could’ve been more. Since I wasn’t working, I decided to get a McDonald’s after showering. Mostly for Harry rather than me, although I’m sure he’d make a comment about it.

I used the key I’d stolen last night to let myself in and went straight up to his bedroom with the McDonald’s in my right hand. Except I didn’t make it to his bedroom, because I found him on the bathroom floor next to the toilet, on his front with his cheek pressed to the tile floor.

“Harry…?”

He moaned, limply raising his hand and dropping it again immediately.

I moved into the room, leaving the McDonald’s in the hall because the smell would not go well with the pre-existing one in the room. It seemed Harry had vomited since I left. I sat on my knees beside him and stroked a finger through his curls, similar to how I had done last night.

“Are you alright?”

“Not really.” He said, voice whiny.

“No, I’m not surprised. I brought you some breakfast.”

He managed to lift his head and look towards me. I pointed at the hallway and he followed where my finger suggested.

“What is it?”

“McDonald’s.”

He screwed his face up. “You know I don’t eat meat.”

“Yes, that’s why I got you a Fillet-O-Fish. And mozzarella sticks.”

“Not very healthy.”

“Well, boiled eggs and avocado doesn’t make for very exciting hangover food if you ask me.”

He blew a breath out so that his lips wobbled. “True.”

“You gonna sit up and eat it?”

He took a deep breath. “Yeah.”

“Come on, then,”

I took his arm and helped pull him to a sitting position. He sat against the bathtub and rolled his head back, mouth open and breathing heavy. I left his food in his lap and sat opposite him with my back against the wall.

“This is probably one of the worst hangovers I’ve had in a long time.” He said, grimacing into the paper bag. At least he could form complete words this morning.

“How much do you remember?”

He laughed once. “Not much. I remember calling you, and waiting for you to come get me. I remember when you turned up, but that’s about it. I don’t remember getting home.”

I swallowed thickly. That meant he probably didn’t remember telling me he was in love with me. Or rather, singing it.

“Next thing I’ve woke up in my pants about to vomit.”

“I think you were the most drunk I’ve ever seen you.”

He paused before he took a bite out of his fillet burger. “Really?”

“Hands down. You fell over nearly three times. And you wouldn’t let me go home.”

“Oh, I’m not surprised by that. I’m a very clingy drunk.”

“I was aware of that before last night.” I muttered. “Who were you with?”

“Tom and Tyler.”

“Ah, one of those evenings, was it?

“Yeah, didn’t expect it to be quite that bad, though. Was only going for one.”

“That’s how they all start.”

“Mm, I should know better.”

“Yes you should.”

He laughed around his mouthful and then swallowed it. “This was a good call, thank you.”

“No problem. Although I have to say I did not expect to watch you eat it on the bathroom floor.”

“I know. Feel like a uni student.”

“I don’t think uni students have bathrooms this big.”

He smiled, but didn’t say anything while his mouth was full. “Think I’m gonna have a shower, if you don’t mind?”

I shrugged. “Your house.”

“Right.” He rolled his eyes in jest. “Will you hang around a bit while I do?”

“Sure. I’ll put some coffee on.”

“Cool.” He grinned.

He shoved the empty box into the paper bag and screwed it up. I took the rubbish off him once we were standing again and left him alone to shower.

I did as I said I would and made him a coffee, and then helped myself to a glass of water and an apple out of the fruit bowl on his counter. I wasn’t sure what was going to happen now. He seemed to be behaving normally, so I was certain he’d forgotten his admission, but that worried me because I was now going to have to admit that I knew. And I still wasn’t entirely sure how I felt.

When Harry did reappear he was fully clothed and looked a lot fresher than he had done before. His hair was damp but beginning to curl and his complexion had a bit more life to it.

“Feel better?”

“Loads better, thank you.”

“That’s good.” I said with a pressed smile. I pushed his coffee towards him.

“Cheers. Where’s yours?” He asked with a subtle frown as he took a sip out of his mug. He made an approving sound. “That’s good.”

“You know, I don’t actually like coffee.”

His frown deepened. “You have coffee all the time.”

“No, I have a mocha.”

“That’s still got coffee in it.”

“Yes, but the hot chocolate kind of makes it a fake coffee. A coffee for people who don’t like coffee.”

“Right.” He chuckled. “I had a thought upstairs just now… why aren’t you at work?”

“Because I barely slept.”

He looked concerned. “You better not have stayed really late because of me. Should’ve kicked me in the crotch and told me to get over myself.”

“Oh believe me, I tried to leave you here to go to bed, H. But I actually got back at an acceptable hour, that wasn’t the problem.”

“Just a bad night?”

I hummed. “No, I still blame you.”

“Why?” He asked, leaning his hip against the counter side.

I looked at the kitchen top and pursed my lips. “You… you told me something that gave me a lot to think about.”

“I didn’t give you some rubbish music samples, did I?”

I snorted. “I wish. Might’ve helped me sleep.”

“What then? I can’t remember anything.”

After a charged silence, I let out a long sigh. “You told me you love me. You said you love me, and then gave this little speech about missing me. And not just as friends - you said like The 1975’s song, I’m in love with you. But you sang that part, and then immediately fell asleep.”

When I met Harry’s gaze again he was staring at me, and biting his cheek. Neither of us said anything for a while. I was hoping he’d say something. Or perhaps me repeating what he said last night meant he felt like he didn’t need to say anymore.

I cocked my head. “Did you mean it?”

He stood taller, inhaling as his gaze became glassy. “Yeah. Yeah of course I did. Well, I didn’t mean to fall asleep, obviously. But I meant it, although I didn’t mean to tell you in that way… you know, while utterly shit faced.”

“You were completely shit faced.”

“Yeah… no, that’s not how I planned on telling you.”

“Was there a different plan?”

“Maybe…” He turned his nose up and scratched the back of his head. “If I told you what it was you’d hate it-,”

“You don’t know that.” I retorted.

He raised a judgemental brow at me. “Er, yes I do.”

I laughed and put my head on the table. “Whatever.”

“Anyway,” he huffed, but it had a lightheartedness to it, “of course I fucking meant it. Been living with it for ages - it’s all had time to brew. Aged like a fine wine.”

I started laughing, and then I felt his arms wrap around my chest. I was pulled up by him to stand straighter, and he rested his chin on my shoulder. His back was against my front and it felt quite nice. I don’t think we’d ever stood like that before.

“Your love has aged like a fine wine?”

“Sounds right cheap when you say it like that.”

“You said it. That is literally what you said.” I was still laughing.

“I know.” He whimpered.

I twisted my head to look at him, but he’d hidden his face. “You’re gonna have to bear with me.”

“In what way?”

“Well, this is a lot for me. I’m still… processing it, and I don’t know how I feel. You’re my friend and I love you, of course I do. Just…”

“Not in love with me yet.” He concluded.

“Yet.” I sniggered.

“I’ll remain optimistic, obviously.”

“Obviously.”

He giggled, and pressed a kiss to my cheek. “Take your time. Preferably not forever though, ‘cause… the biological clock is ticking.”

I snorted again. “Reel it in.”

“Sorry.” He hummed and squeezed my shoulders tightly. “I am going to have a movie day on the sofa. Do you want to stay?”

“For that I do, fuck yeah.”

“Sweet… go and make yourself comfy. I’ll get the snacks.”

He bumped my hip with his when I passed him so I kicked him back. He gave a childish laugh, and I shook my head at him, but I found as I wandered into his overcompensating living room that I had this giddy feeling in my stomach I’d never felt with him before.

What was I, the most stubborn woman on Earth, going to do?

“What d’you want, H?”

“Not a very charming greeting.” He groused.

I pouted. “You’re interrupting my bath time.”

“Is there some space left in the bathtub?”

I smirked and sank lower into the water. “For you? Never.”

“Hey!”

“Always,” I laughed around my correction, “I meant always.”

“That’s more like it.” He chuckled. “I was calling because I think it might be my turn to get dinner. So what do you fancy?”

“Well, you, obviously.”

“Obviously.” His matter-of-fact tone matched mine. I could imagine him nodding his head. “How about a chippy?”

“Oh, fuck yeah. My usual please.”

“Curry sauce too?”

“Wouldn’t be my usual without it.”

“Just checking. So, I will be knocking on your door within the next hour. Make the most of that bath ‘cause I’m coming.”

“Cool. See you in a bit.”

“Bye-bye.”

“Love you!” I shouted before he could put the phone down.

He was quiet for a minute. “Blimey. Don’t need to shout it, darlin’.”

I threw my head back and laughed. “Just in case you forgot.”

“I could never. But I love you more. See you shortly.”

“Okay, bye-bye. Love you most.”

“No!” He shouted, but I cut him off before he could refute it more.

I felt smug. I let out a satisfied sigh and laid my head back against the edge of the tub.

I had taken my time in coming around to Harry’s admission, but he was incredibly patient with me and I was always grateful for that. It had been little over a year since his little bender, and I felt really good about everything. We felt really good about everything.

Our relationship seemed to only be moving up at a pace we were both happy with, and I couldn’t ask for anything more. All we had to do was keep it that way, and I had every confidence we could.

~~~

If you read this far, thank you <3

Come Talk To Me

#harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harryonbroadwayficchallenge #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles ff #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles angst imagine #harry styles angst imagines #harry styles fluff imagine #harry styles fluff imagines #i forgot how much i fucking hate writing tags on the bottom of posts #this is endless

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littlegodzilla · 2 years ago

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hii, could you write a fluffy smut where daryl is a virgin, very inexperienced and ashamed about it? so basically reader taking his virginity, but in kinda slow steps to make him comfortable and showing him everything. but daryl being untouched since forever so he is really horny hahah. you know just smut but in a fluffy way with i love yous and reader praising him.

Hi anon!!

Sorry for taking me so long! I was busy with other stuff and I needed more inspiration but now with some help and good ideas, I'm already here!

I hope you'll like it!!

Enjoy!!

***************

First Time.

Virgin!Daryl Dixon x Reader.

One shot. Anon Request.

Prison Era.

Warnings: fluff smut. Lost of virginity. Shy Daryl.

Words: 3000

*****************

"That's right babygirl, look at me, I'm going to make you a mess. You're going to moan and beg, and when you're desperate, I'm going to fuck your cunt so hard you'll be sore for a week."

Daryl has to admit he never thought you could like that kind of reading.

You join the group at the camp outside Atlanta, in fact you were already there when he arrived with Merle at the quarry. You arrived with Dale, your neighbor outside, where you had your farm with your fiancé, he didn't survive and you fled with the older man. The first day you met, Daryl discovered he had a little kink about glasses, he came up to you to bark at you to move aside, he had to prepare the meat he had hunted and when you lifted your head out of your book, he felt a violent tug inside his pants; the confusion on your face, your glasses halfway up the bridge of your nose, your cheeks slightly reddened made Daryl lose his own mind and run away from you as if you burnt.

Little by little he realized that you were a kind, funny, straightforward person, you didn't care what anyone thought of you and you were never shy about flirting with Daryl. He also didn't need to be very smart to realize that you liked him and you were trying to guess how far you could go before he got upset. Truth be told, Daryl wasn't upset, more like frustrated and embarrassed. He's never been with a woman, at least not like this, it's not because he's not interested, he's just never been attracted to the female friends Merle has introduced him to, but with you it's different, after what happened at the CDC, your friendship grew stronger, you kept fooling around with him, joking with each other, but Daryl always set boundaries, he never felt quite confident to take the jokes to something more serious and real.

After you found the prison and made it habitable, you found a small enclosure with a library for the prisoners, there were books of all kinds and you spent much of your free time there, sitting in your armchair, curled up, with your lamp to one side and your glasses brushing the edge of your nose. Sometimes Daryl would stop in town when he was looking for more supplies and bring you new books to read, which you always thanked him for.

But he found that one by accident one day when he came looking for you to go to lunch with the others. It was already late, Daryl hadn't seen you all day due to the different guard and patrol schedules you had, so he thought it was a good excuse to go looking for you to see you and find out how you had spent the day. When he entered the room, he didn't discover you in your armchair, as usual, but he heard you rummaging through the shelves. Curious he came over to see the book you were reading and those were the first words that caught his eyes.

"That's right babygirl, look at me, I'm going to make a mess of you. You're going to moan and beg, and when you're desperate, I'm going to fuck your cunt so hard you'll be sore for a week."

"And what did ya expect, lil'brother?" Merle's voice rattles his brain. "What would a virgin like ya be? Almost forty years old and ya haven't even touched a tit." He is reminded by his subconscious in his brother's voice.

Daryl isn't an idiot, he knows there are such books, just like porn magazines, there are also books with erotic and sexual themes, but he has to admit he didn't expect to find you in a place like that. Much less that you would read that kind of stuff.

It's pathetic that his own mind humiliates him like that, but he can't deny it, he's never touched a tit, never even seen one, at least not live, but he'll never deny that he wishes he could see and touch yours, feel your soft skin, their shape, feel how soft and moldable they can be under his fingers.

He grunts and shakes his head. Ever since he found out you liked those books, his mind hasn't stopped flying, wondering if you really like that sort of thing, the dirty talk, the nicknames, having your hair pulled and tied up... he swallows hard feeling his crotch arouse at the thought of it. He clenches his fists tightly and leaves the prison for a walk around the prison yard to clear his head and not go crazy.

**********

You haven't seen him for hours, after last watch it's like he's disappeared, you're not sure if something is wrong with him, maybe you said something that upset him, or he's just isolating himself because he needs it, if so, you'll turn around and leave him alone.

"Daryl, are you here?" you ask opening the library door.

You're actually surprised to find him there, lost among the bookshelves, with a book in his hand, flipping through it. It's not that you thought Daryl couldn't read, Dixon hid more secrets and qualities than many of you knew, he just never talked about it, the information he always revealed about himself was limited, and you always found it fascinating.

"Daryl?" you insist, in case he didn't hear you, he turns slowly and looks at you intently, chewing on his lip. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I was just havin' a look 'round..." He lifts the book in his hands and you open your eyes wide. "I didn't even know these places had books like that."

"Well... actually, several of those were brought to me by you." You smile and now he's the one who's surprised.

"I guess you took them all without looking at what exactly they were about...I just organized them and put them on the shelf." You smile as you see some relief on his face.

"Me? I didn't... When?" he stammers in confusion, feeling his face heat up.

"Do ya like...? Do ya like these books?" he asks you and you pick up the one in his hands.

He's cute, you know that's a complicated word to define Daryl Dixon, but in your eyes, he is. He's rough and coarse, always ready to bark to defend himself, he's never bitten, at least not the one he's loyal to, but he has that side, that nervousness, that awkward chewing of his lip when something gets out of his control, the eyes of a scared little animal, looking for a place to run away. You would love to be able to hug him and hold him in your arms until you tell him that everything was okay. And other times you'd love to kiss him and let your passion run wild, but there was something about him that always made you stop, despite the intensity of your gazes, despite the fact that you were sure you both felt something. Daryl was never too close, too long.

" 'Lost Morals' Not bad, more intense than I thought it would be when I picked it up." You laugh seeing him nodding his head. "They're just an escape, keep the mind distracted I guess... sometimes the guards get too long and boring..."

"Yes, they are, sorry."

"Don't be sorry, it's not your fault, it's the world we have now, nothing more." You smile at him again to calm him down and dare to stroke his arm. Daryl doesn't pull away, in fact he moves a little closer to you.

"Ya like those things? What it says there..."

"You mean the sex? Maybe sometimes it's a little over the top, but that's the great thing about literature, isn't it? Letting our imaginations run wild, to other worlds, other times, tasting kinks we didn't know we had..." You shrug, Daryl's gaze on you still intense, neither moving, nor opening his mouth, just listening to your opinion. "And you?"

"I've never read one..." He shrugs. "I didn't have time for that shit, actually..." He grunts a little, but you're not bothered by his coarse words, that's just the way he is. "We didn't have many books at my house either..." He whispers, now more embarrassed.

"Okay, if you want I can read you some." You propose.

"I can read, I'm ain’t that stupid." He grunts offended, now he does look annoyed.

"Sure, I don't... I'm sorry, I didn't mean..." You throat clears, lowering your gaze. "A-And the sex?" you dare to ask seeing him recoil again.

"Daryl..."

"There hasn't been much of that either..." He confesses.

Oh. Is he implying what…? No, he can't be. You don't think Daryl is like Merle by any stretch of the imagination, but you're sure that, at some point, at some time, Daryl has had a girlfriend, a Lover, at least something passing to have fun with. You open your mouth to say something, but close it again because you detect a glint in his eyes that shuts you up.

Oh.

"What?" his voice sounds hoarse and low, he's raised his defenses again, against you, you have to admit that hurts. "Gotta somethin' to say?"

"No, no... there's nothing wrong about that... not everyone..."

"Not everyone? Gonna make fun of me? It's fuckin' forty year old redneck virgin." He barks and now he's totally glued to you. "Come on, what yer waitin' for?"

"So what yer gonna do then?"

"I'm not going to make fun of you!" you reply wanting to calm him down. "Daryl you are important to me, I would never make fun of you, much less hurt you." You lick your lips feeling your heart racing.

You can smell him, he's so close that through your nose the scent of his skin, his sweat, the dirt on his clothes, the permeated air of the forest, tattooed on him, not to mention the smoke from his cigarettes, the leather of his vest.

"I-I... I could teach you..."

"Teach me?" His voice again sounds hesitant. Perhaps he hadn't expected that answer. "And what can ya teach me, huh? Yer just a bookworm."

He narrows his eyes from the watchtower, it isn’t just because the sun is cruelly hitting his pupils, it's because Axel is hovering around you like a vulture. That morning there are more corpses hovering around the metal fence of the prison, some of you have gone out to get their attention and kill them to get them out of there so that your protection doesn’t fall. You are one of the ones there. With an iron bar you are piercing the skulls of those things that fall like broken sacks to the ground. Axel, one of the prisoners that Rick let live, is by your side, helping you, when you have a group, he comes out of the fence and takes them away to burn them, with Oscar's help, that man is huge and can carry the bodies without problems.

"Maybe, but you'd be surprised what this bookworm can do." You stand up for yourself and push him away from you, maybe he's embarrassed, but you're not going to let him insult you any more than necessary, you've already apologized.

*************

"Like ya?" again Merle's voice in your head makes you grit your teeth. "'f course, yer a much better catch."

But for his taste, Axel is too close and with the crossbow sight he has seen you laughing with him and that gives him heartburn. You can't like that guy, you deserve something more, something better…

"I didn't say that..."

"Ya dun need to say it, lil'brother, I'm in yer head." He hears him chuckle and tries to push those thoughts out of her mind. "If ya wanna get him away from yer girl, put one of yer arrows through his head, from this distance ya dun even need to aim."

"Shut up, I'm ain't gonna do anythin'."

"I know, as usual." Again his sneer makes him growl, conscience is supposed to be a good thing, yet his is bitching the hell out of him. "I'm not yer concience, I'm yer fear, that one that lives in yer subconscious that won't let you near yer girl." Merle speaks again. "What are ya gonna do if one day she shows up naked in front of ya, would ya run away?"

"I said shut up!" He shouts to nothing.

"Daryl?" Rick peeks out the door of the tower, looking worriedly at his friend. "You okay, man?"

"I-I'm fine." He shakes his body, trying to appear normal.

"You sure? You've been a little... weird for a few days." He walks over to his friend who shoots an arrow, knocking one of the Walkers over the fence.

"I'm fine, Grimes." He mumbles.

Again his steps have led him to the library, again with that book in his hands. He puts the crossbow aside and sits down on the couch there. It is a sofa bed that you found in one of the offices of the prison police, probably used for the long nights of guard duty, to be able to rest if things were quiet. It took a while to get it there, but you had turned that place into your refuge, and although everyone passed by looking for something to entertain themselves with, they respected your privacy and had accepted that this was your room.

"Okay, sorry..." He gives him a sidelong glance and then looks over to the fence where you and Axel are standing. "They make a good couple, don't you think?" He tries to see Daryl's reaction.

As he expected, his friend grunts something under his breath, picks up his crossbow and storms out, slamming the door violently. Rick can't bite back the smile that comes out on his mouth. Daryl is hard to read, he has so many layers that getting to the deep end is tricky, but sometimes, just sometimes, you catch a glimpse of what's going on in his mind, like in that instant. It was funny to find out, at first you didn't think anything of it, but over time you discovered that Daryl didn't take his eyes off you, that he was always close and your friendship was gaining more and more trust, and now this. He's jealous of the recluse and Rick wonders where it will all go.

***************

"Daryl?" your voice sounds worried now and he flutters his eyes open.

Daryl opens the book, running his eyes over every line, every word. He frowns slightly, chewing his lip. The sentences, the narrative, begins to dance in his mind, becoming an almost real vision.

"Daryl." He hears your voice and lifts his head from the book.

His breath catches in his throat as he discovers you standing in front of him, your hair down, tousled, wearing only lacy black underwear and your glasses. Those damn glasses drive him crazy and he doesn't even know why. You walk slowly towards him, your whole body wiggling with every step and catching his breath as you stand right in front of him.

"Daryl..." You call out to him again, his gaze connecting with yours.

You slip one leg between his, rest your hands on his shoulders and sit on his thigh. His breath hitches as your lips almost brush his, he can't move, he's totally petrified.

His breathing is heavy, like he's been running a marathon, his brow is furrowed in a confused frown, and you're startled for a second. You've walked in there and he seemed so immersed in what he was reading, he hadn't even heard you call out to him, and now he looks frightened, like a little boy discovered playing a prank.

"You don't have to feel embarrassed..."

When you get a little closer you discover the book in his hands and if he was scared he now looks terrified, he wants to hide the book, keep it away from himself, you smile and pick it up turning the pages.

"I-I ain't feel embarrassed, I wasn't reading it, it was just there." He defends himself by getting up from the couch.

"I know you, Daryl, and I know it's complicated for you all this, I don't know what's going through your mind or why you feel so uncomfortable, but you don't have to be embarrassed when you're with me or feel threatened. I really like you, Daryl, and I know you know that. I-It's not just a physical thing, I've learned a lot of things about you, some of them just by looking at you. You're someone who deserves everything good that happens to you..."

"Yeah, well your body doesn't say the same..."

You both look down at his crotch, his hard cock, sticking to the fabric of his pants, making it clear that whatever it was he was thinking about, it has had an effect on him. You watch as he swallows several times, his breathing quickens, his eyes searching for a way out. You sigh, adjusting your glasses to the bridge of your nose, crossing your arms, challenging him with your gaze. Daryl is still breathing heavily, his hands twitching nervously, his lips turned into a thin line.

"Stop it... All the good things that happen to me? What good things have happened to me, huh? Tell me, how many good things have happened to me since y'think ya've known me?"

"Daryl, look at me..." You ask holding his chin, but you don't force him, you let him do it himself. "Please... You deserve so much..." You assure him. "You don't know how many people love you... how much they admire you; you're faithful and loyal.. you're a good man, Daryl..." you cradle his face in your hands, but he still won't look at you. "Let me prove it to you." You ask and brush your nose against his forehead.

"We have this place, you've opened up to us, you have friends, a family, a place where you belong..." You take a deep breath. "You have me... if you really dare to take that step..."

You move a little closer, you raise your hand pushing a few strands of hair away from his face, he's not able to look at you, but he leans his head towards your hand, enjoying your touch, your thumb brushes his cheek feeling his stubble tickle you.

"What if it's not what ya expect? What if a-ain't...?" he still won't look at you, but you allow yourself to kiss his forehead.

"Stop thinking, Daryl." You ask him.

"Wait..." He gasps holding your hands.

You finally get him to lift his head to look at you, your gazes connect, you smile wanting to relax him a little more, you move closer and kiss him very slowly, you hold his hands placing them on your waist, feeling him tremble against you. You kiss his lips several times, before he kisses you back, he opens his mouth and the kiss becomes a little awkward and wet, Daryl accidentally bites your tongue, but soon you take control and he is a quick learner. His hands clench tighter around your waist, his mouth devours you, his tongue tangles and plays with yours getting goosebumps on your skin. You break the kiss to look up at him, your thumb brushes his lips, you peel off several of the layers of t-shirts you're wearing, left with your tank top and bra. Again Daryl's breathing quickens, his hands want to touch you, in fact his fingers brush the edge of your t-shirt wanting to tug at it, to hide his hand under the fabric and feel the soft touch of your skin, but he holds back as you begin to unbutton his vest.

"I mean it, Daryl, you don't have to be ashamed of anything..."

"Ya dun know..."

"I-I wanna touch ya..." He whispers as if afraid to hear his own voice.

"I saw them..." You confess to him and he looks at you with wide eyes. "At the farm, when you were knocked unconscious... I helped Hershel heal you..." You look at him apologetically, but he just sighs letting go of your hands letting you continue.

You are in no hurry, you remove his vest and then his shirt, your eyes keep looking at him, he doesn't seem to know what to do or where to look, he is anxious, but at the same time he feels lost. A sigh escapes his mouth as you kiss his neck, your fingers brushing his chest, his belly, brushing his bulging pants that make his hips jiggle.

He growls low, swallows hard and grabs your shirt to pull it off over your head. His eyes roam slowly over you, tickling you as he brushes his fingers against your belly, but you hold back, let him take his time, let him study you meticulously, let him enjoy what's in front of him. You've been looking forward to sharing something so intimate with him for so long, now you're in no hurry.

"Do it, I'm all yours, Daryl."

"Somethin' wrong …?"

You close your eyes and smile when he dares to kiss your neck, imitating your steps, with his mouth half open he distributes soft and wet kisses on your skin, your neck, your cheek, your shoulder. His hands knead your skin with a certain desperation, he runs down your back, squeezes your ass, a small moan escapes you at the feel of it and he pulls away to look at you.

You kiss him and move at the same time to the sofa bed again, and sit him on the edge of the mattress.

"No, I like what you do to me." You smile wanting to get that fear out of his mind again.

He feels a little anxious, chewing on his lip again as you kneel in front of him to unbuckle his shoes and remove his pants. Your eyes don't leave him, studying his every gesture, in case he gets too uncomfortable and you need to stop, but he's watching you intently too, even raising his hips to make your job of removing his clothes easier.

"Wow, Daryl... Why did you have this hidden?" you try to joke and he snorts.

You can't help but be a little surprised by his size. Slightly curved, somewhat veiny, bigger than average, or at least that you've ever held in your hands, to be honest. You bite your lip with desire and look at him again, now your gaze is laden with lust and you can almost see his cheeks take on a reddish tinge.

"Wanna me to go with my dick free?"

"I'm sure you'd have made more than one girl's day." You laugh and he lets out a chuckle.

"Yer crazy, shut up..." He mumbles feeling like his face is going to explode from the heat.

"No..." He says to you and you look at him confused. "Don't take them off... I-I like it..." He falls silent not knowing how to say it.

You smile seeing him more relaxed, you spread his legs a little further apart and position yourself in the middle, your hand takes his size and you move it slowly, up and down, Daryl gasps and pushes his hips back up, but stops when he sees you are about to remove your glasses.

"Oh, do we have some kinks?" you joke again and your hand tightens a little on the head of his cock.

Again Daryl gasps, letting out a hoarse moan, his body jerks, uncomfortable at his own sounds, but you lean into him and your tongue licks his length.

"Stop, stop..." He wants to warn you, but doesn't have time, when he pulls your head away, which face is stained by several white spurts. "Oh shit, s-sorry!"

"Fuck..." He slips out between his teeth and his fingers grip the sheets tightly.

You glance sideways at him and your lips close over his tip, sucking slowly, never taking your eyes off him, Daryl closes his eyes tightly and his thighs tremble, your mouth, wet and warm, runs up and down his length, as far as you can encompass, starting a light pumping up and down. The pleasure is intense and unexpected, Daryl has masturbated on occasion, but with the end of the world, other priorities became more important and his own relief and pleasure took a back seat. Which causes him to now have little control, feeling his balls tighten.

You can't help but laugh at the sight of his concern, you gesture for him to calm down, grab a T-shirt from the floor and wipe your face with it. He continues to look at you shyly and embarrassed, you kiss his tip and slowly sit up until you can kiss him. This time the kiss is more intense, Daryl holds your cheeks to keep you glued to him.

"We can leave it here if you want." You offer, but he shakes his head.

"Wait, come here." You tell him by laying him down next to you.

"I wanna make ya feel good too..."

You nod, getting up to remove the rest of your clothes, but he stops you, his hands unbuttoning your pants as you remove your footwear to make his job easier. You lie down on the bed, Daryl pulls your jeans down to leave you in your underwear. He crawls onto the mattress on top of you. Again he leaves several kisses down your neck, his fingers pull down the straps of your bra, you arch your back so he can undo it and let the garment fall down the side of the bed. He breathes in deeply, his eyes recording in his mind every curve and line of your body. He kisses your collarbone, down the line of your cleavage, his hands cup your breasts, as he has done your ass before, massaging them eagerly, squeezing them between his fingers, the sensation a little uncomfortable and you have to stop him when his teeth bite down hard on you.

"Did I hurt ya?"

"No, but every woman likes different things." You try to calm him down.

"Y-Ya like it?"

You hold one of his hand to guide it to one of your breasts, with your fingers you show him how you like it and how you want him to try to do it, he quickly relieves your hand with his, pinches your nipple, massages the round shape of your breast, you gasp and sigh when he does it with both your breasts at the same time.

"Y-yes, it feels good, Daryl." You praise him and he grunts against your ear.

You smile removing your last undergarment, you hear Daryl snort loudly behind you, his hands release your breasts and he moves down your belly squeezing and caressing your skin to your thighs, spreading your legs apart to get a better look at you, you feel him caress your groin getting closer to your core, you hold his hand and indicate how he should touch you.

"Wanna touch ya more."

"Can I..." He starts to say releasing you for a moment. "P-put yerself against me, so I can touch ya better." He clears his throat and you look at him in surprise, but you do as he asks.

He leans against your headboard, you against his chest, you spread your legs and he circles your body, again his hand massages your tit as you instructed earlier and his other hand moves down to your core, stroking you very slowly. You sigh and close your eyes.

"I-I'm doing it right?" he asks you without stopping moving his fingers.

You moan louder lifting your hips, holding his hand by your wrist, you bite your lip feeling your legs tremble as he touches you in exactly the right place. Daryl doesn't look away, immersed in your movements, in your every reaction, wanting to know everything he's making you feel, making sure he's doing it right. You move his hand a little more and the pressure on your nub becomes more intense, your new moan longer and longer, as the pleasure shakes you.

"Yes, yes..." You gasp as he moves his fingers a little faster and squeezes your nipple harder.

His fingers begin to move slower until they stop when your legs close, he gently pulls his hand away, rests one on your thigh, the other on your belly, his lips kissing your cheek and neck still feeling you tremble against him and you breathe raggedly.

"Daryl! Daryl!" you cry out his name stirring in his arms closing your legs when the pleasure is too much.

"Are ya okay?" he asks against your ear and you nod your head.

"Do you want to fuck me, Dixon?" You ask wiggling your hips against his finger, and he nods his head. "Say it."

"Oh yeah I am, Daryl. You've made me feel really good." You assure him and turn your head to kiss again.

No doubt he's already become a good kisser, it doesn't surprise you either, he's always been quick to learn and to experiment on his own, it's natural for him. Without stopping kissing you, his hand from his thigh goes back down to your pussy and his fingers run along your folds, feeling how wet you are, carefully, groping, his finger presses at your entrance, inserting it slowly.

You stop your hips slowly, remaining seated on his lap, challenging him with your gaze, he is still breathing heavily, but his pupils are dilated in absolute desire. You smile and rise up releasing his cock, you hear him sigh before you lie down on the mattress and he gets on top of you, making room between your legs. You hold them open letting him take control, pressing down with his tip, entering little by little. You bite your lip at the feel of it, he glances sideways at you before moving out again and thrusting a little harder. You arch up and move a little with him, inviting him to go faster, he holds your knees and starts to move harder and faster, his eyes locked on how his cock moves in and out of you, panting, increasing the movement of his hips a little more, your moans increase your hands touching you, squeezing your nipples and searching for your clit touching it quickly looking for your own relief.

"Wanna fuck ya... wanna make ya feel good again..." He stammers still not confident enough. You smile and kiss him pulling his hands away from your body.

You settle back down, you get on top of him leaning on his chest, you move your hips against him, rubbing his cock against your clit hearing him gasp. You take his cock sitting up slowly, feeling it work its way inside you. Daryl holds your waist and digs his fingers into your skin feeling the pleasure growing in his body again. You rock your hips adjusting to his size, then moving a little faster on top of him using his chest for support. Daryl's hands run down your body, caressing your skin, wanting to help you with the movement, you hold his hands and guide them to your breasts for him to massage them as he knows you like. A louder moan comes from your mouth, you arch your back in pleasure. Daryl massages your breasts, squeezes your nipples, his eyes riveted on you watching your face morph into different grimaces of pleasure each time his cock hits inside you in just the right place. You open your eyes wide when suddenly he slaps your ass.

"I said I wanna fuck ya." He says now with more confidence in his voice and you feel your insides tingle.

"I-I'm gonna get something to clean ya up..." He whispers.

You know he is close again, his thrusts become more urgent and clumsy, he looks at you before pulling out and jerks his length in his hand, cumming, splashing and staining your lower belly and thighs, soon after your body jerks and you yourself reach your own climax. You both need to catch your breath, Daryl doesn't move until he is fully aware of what a mess you are and grunts low.

"Are you okay?" you ask without raising your voice too much, he shakes his shoulders mumbling. "What's wrong?"

"Okay..." You smile feeling adorable that his embarrassment has returned.

He gets up slowly, his gaze sweeps around the room before he enters the bathroom and pulls out a damp towel with which he wipes the remnants of himself on you and then wipes himself off as well. His eyes are glued to the mattress, avoiding any eye contact with you. You smile and hold his chin kissing his cheek, you rest your forehead on his shoulder and hug his waist.

"Y-ya didn't have to..." He starts to say again.

"Daryl, I've told you before, you're important to me." You sigh feeling hurt that he has so little confidence. "I love you..." You confess to him. "It's no a secret, I've always tried to get your attention, do you really think I would do this with anyone?" you don't want to sound offended, but you're surprised by the look he gives you.

"And Axel?"

"Axel? No, of course not. He's a nice guy, but he'll never touch me like that, I'll cut his hands off first." You assure him and see a small smile form on his mouth. "Were you jealous?" He remains silent and you can't help but laugh. "Daryl Dixon was jealous? Really?"

"Shut up, it ain't my fault, he's always right there with ya, what did ya wanna me to do, go up to him and tell him to stay away from my girl?" he defends himself and your smile grows wider.

"Your girl, huh?" You tease him and wrap your legs around his waist, still sitting next to him, sticking closer to him.

"Yer my girl..." He nods staring at you now and you feel goosebumps rise on your skin. "I-I love ya..."

You sigh and kiss him intensely, Daryl reciprocates without fear now, holding you by the nape of your neck, wrapping his arm around your body, sitting you on his lap, to lie on the mattress again.

The library is no longer your refuge. Now is yours.

The End.

Hope you liked it!

See you in the next stories!

#my stuff #norman reedus #normanreedus #mine #ask me #daryl dixon #smut #daryldixon #twd fanfiction #virginDarylDixon #anon requests #anon asks #smut request #daryl dixion x reader #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon x you

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queerprayers · 5 months ago

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1/2- Sorry if this is a weird ask. You're a person of sincere faith who doesn't judge and I'm desperate for outside opinions. I've recently learned that many modern tarot readers don't believe in divination or spirits, but rather that the images on the cards can help us think about things and bring out deeper ideas from our own subconscious. Zero future telling, only for self reflection. That sounds ok to me, and using the cards for visio divina has done really good things for my prayer life.

2/2- But still I worry- what if the more conservative types are right and all use of the cards is bad? What if it's displeasing to God? I beg and pray but I can't seem to find any peace or inner sense of guidance on the topic. Can you please pray for me, and share any wisdom you might have about this? Thank you so much.

Hello, beloved--I don't think this is weird at all! There's so much fearmongering among Christians about things being Satanic or pagan or whatever else, and it's important to not give into that panic while also taking our faith seriously.

None of the people I know who have been interested in tarot do it as a religious or really even spiritual practice--for most of them, it's been a fun thing, like getting your fortune read at a county fair, and it's not something to "believe in" so much as do and think about. I also know people who, as you said, find it useful for reflection, usually for finding new ways of looking at things. I'm not scared of tarot, and I don't think it's demonic.

Christian history is full of things like opening your Bible to a random page to see what God has in store for you or protecting yourself from evil spirits or saying a certain prayer so that a saint will do something for you. Everyone has these superstitious instincts, to find stories in chance, to not waste the few things that are in our control. I don't think there's inherent evil there--evil comes when we trust these things more than God, when we look in our own actions more than God's, when we think we can know the full story, when we try to pin God down. And I don't think superstition with Christian wrappings is any less superstitious, or any more truthful, to be honest.

A lot of people fearmongering about stuff like this are scared about where it might lead--that you'll end up somewhere chanting around a human sacrifice. And of course there are people who start with harmless religious experiences and end up in evil places--lots of Christians go to a potluck and end up believing in prosperity gospel and putting their kids in conversion therapy. But I don't hear you in danger of abandoning God or of harming anyone. And any religious practice can go too far, no matter how pure its roots. What you bring to the practice makes up most of whether you are reaching out toward God with it, and we can balance it with other traditions and other impulses.

In case someone's using the Bible to scare you: what the Bible tells us about fortune-telling/magic/communing with spirits is from a very specific Ancient Israelite perspective that I'm not qualified to unpack, but we don't find it an applicable worldview today. We have different ideas of how to live in community with other religions, and religious practices serve very different functions. We don't follow Ancient Israelite cultic practices--nor do modern Jewish people, for that matter. Christian practice has developed in the past two millennia in so many directions, and barely any of it would be recognizable to the Biblical authors. I obviously trust that God gave us these writings for a reason, and am not saying to ignore them--we can find useful ideas, but not a rule book.

The tarot deck most people know was created in 1909 by an occult secret society, who used symbols from Christianity and astrology. I think it's misguided to find truth in them as they exist, but neither do I think they're inherently evil--they're archetypes, stories. They're just human. I find occult secret societies generally more silly than demonic--although there is lots of racism/cultural appropriation in their histories. I respect those who avoid tarot based on its origins, just as I respect those who won't do yoga because it's a Hindu practice. But so many things come from non-Christian origins, and we cannot throw away the world if we want to live in community with it. (Yes, we are called to be set apart from the world as Christians, but also to love it--there is the line we must walk.)

There is real Biblical precedent for avoiding a practice associated with things outside of your faith--ancient Israelite religion was very concerned with these associations. Paul did not think meat that had originally been offered to pagan gods was sinful to eat, but basically advised people not to eat it because of how it would affect others or perhaps normalize idol worship. These are things we're continually navigating, and in any Christian community you're gonna have to be clear where your faith lies and probably answer some questions. I think it's a good thing that we're called to be purposeful, and to be aware how our actions affect others.

So my general advice would be to really think about it, to do it all purposefully, paying attention to how it affects your life, relationships, and practice, and whether it's bringing you to the life you know God wants from you (one of love). But this sounds like what you're already doing! I think you care more about this than most people I know, and you're coming to God genuinely--these are gifts.

Prayer is sensory, story-filled, interactive. It's a way of moving through the world. You say this has done good things for your prayer life, and I believe you. Contemplation is a major Christian prayer tradition. Anything can give us a new perspective, anything can shove us toward the truth. You're not causing harm, and neither are you abandoning your faith. There are other people navigating the same things as you--Contemplative Tarot is a book by a Catholic tarot practitioner, and it looks really interesting. I know people who have made their own tarot cards, and I wonder what that would look like with more intentional Christian symbolism/stories, even saints. Sometimes I pick a random prayer card to say--this is coincidence, and while it's not something I'm depending on, it does affect how my day goes.

Don't fall for anything or anyone that claims to know the ultimate truth, don't fall for the people who say that tarot has ancient Egyptian/kabbalah roots, don't fall for people who are just selling you things, don't believe anyone who tells you the truth is inside you if they aren't making clear that it's God that's living there, don't base your entire religious practice on something like this. But don't throw away a way of looking at things if God has led you through it. Don't put your life in the hands of cards, but move through your life with stories and new perspectives and contemplation. God's mercies are new every morning.

I don't know if I've given you peace--maybe just more questions. The good news is, you don't have to figure it all out now, and the bad news is you'll never figure it all out. Religious practice is a continuous dialogue and negotiation with the world. I have faith in you, and in the ways God is moving in your life. Bring Jesus with you, wherever you end up--he'll come regardless, of course, but see it happening. A man with a sword or a cup doesn't know your future, nor is he doing anything--but you know that. You're seeing more of the story, you're contemplating the wonders of God, you know the swords and cups that matter, and they are present with you, and seeing them everywhere is a gift.

Something my mother says before I start anything new, or go anywhere important--what she said when I went to the psych ward, and on the first days of school, and when I go to a protest--is "remember your baptism." I think my grandfather said it to her, too. I don't know whether you've been formally baptized, but remember your calling. Remember the beginning of your journey, and why you're still on it, and how you're being a representative of it. Remember your baptism, whatever that means to you. We have been marked with the cross of Christ forever.

<3 Johanna

#asks

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linawritestwst · 2 years ago

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Hi hello! ヽ(★ω★)ノ I see that your requests are open again, so is it all right if I ask for Riddle, Azul, Vil, and Malleus on an ice skating date with their s/o? Thank you and have a great day :DD

riddle, azul, vil and malleus going ice skating with their s/o (gn!reader)

i got this request back in july and i'm finally writing it. again, i am so sorry, but hey, it's getting colder and it started snowing for me yesterday, so.. i guess this is the perfect time to write and read these headcanons? :'D

riddle rosehearts.

♡ at first, he's not a fan of the idea and he doesn't really want to go, but when he sees how excited you are and you start begging him to go ice skating with you.. he reluctantly agrees and he almost regrets it, but he immediately feels better about his decision when you thank him and give him a kiss. o-okay, maybe this date won't be so bad after all. riddle is not nervous about it because of him being bad at skating, he's actually pretty good at it (though he still thinks it's far from perfect), it's just.. something about doing it with you makes his heart beat so fast, he can't focus on his dorm leader duties.

♡ you just keep making riddle blush during the whole date, it even started with you seeing riddle in his winter outfit and saying how cute he looks! so when that happens, riddle knows that this date is going to be.. fun. however, to his own surprise, he actually really likes skating with you like this? he's not used to doing this at all, but he doesn't think that agreeing to go skating was a bad idea anymore. he really wants you to compliment his skills, but he knows that he still has to work on them, so.. but now he has motivation to get better at skating!

♡ but then, while riddle is thinking about it, he realizes that he got a bit careless and forgot how slippery the ice can get. the poor boy is about to fall, but you don't let that happen. you stop there for a second because you can't help but go "hehe, looks like someone is actually a bit clumsy~" and before riddle can say anything, both of you fall down and there's no one to help you this time. you find this situation too funny and end up laughing meanwhile riddle's brain stops working because of you falling on him. "oh, lying on top of you is pretty comfortable actually." riddle can't answer properly because of how flustered he is and you can confidently say that this date was perfect.

azul ashengrotto.

♡ "darling, this idea sounds amazing, but.. are you sure we can't do something else? there are so many things we can try-" "no, azul, i want to go ice skating." azul pretends to be just as excited about it as you are, but he's secretly panicking and he starts screaming the moment you leave mostro lounge. what is he so scared of, you ask? you see, since he's a merperson, he's not exactly good at skating. he's terrible at it, actually. and he doesn't want you to find out. but he also doesn't want you to be sad!! it looks like you really want to do this ice skating thing with him.. w-well, maybe he can just watch you skate and he won't have to do anything..

♡ azul really wants to come up with an excuse to not go, but he just can't do it. he's okay with lying to anyone, but not you. if he has to trip and fall right in front of you.. then so be it. he tries to stay calm at first and he pretends that everything is fine, but you can notice him getting nervous. when you start skating together, he holds your hand SO TIGHT, he knows that it must be painful, but he's too scared to let go. and then, eventually, he does fall. and when it happens, he just lies there for a moment and he doesn't want to get up because he's too embarrassed and he's afraid he's just gonna fall again. and he's afraid that you're gonna be disappointed in him.

♡ however, you smile at him and help him get up. azul apologizes and tries to explain why he's not so good at skating, but you stop him and tell him that you actually knew all along that he never tried skating before because he's a merperson. azul is confused. why did you want to go ice skating with him then?? did you- did you just want to make fun of him?? you shake your head and say that even though it's adorable to watch azul try so hard to impress you, you actually wanted to teach him how to skate and you thought that it would be fun to try it together. and even though azul was very worried about you finding out that he can't skate.. he has to admit that he did have fun. maybe he doesn't mind being bad at something as long as you are with him.

vil schoenheit.

♡ vil didn't expect you to come up with a date idea like this, but he can't deny that he's interested. you two never went ice skating together, so it will definitely be a fun and unique experience. he agrees to go and you smile and hug him, promising that he won't regret it. when you two meet, vil adjusts your scarf, saying that you have to stay warm and kisses you on the forehead. "so, shall we go?" your face feels so hot, he doesn't have to worry about you getting cold.

♡ you wouldn't say that you're terrible at skating, you can fall pretty easily, but most of the time you're doing fine. but when you're with vil.. yeah, this man is much better at skating than you. he looks so elegant, it's almost like he was born to do it. seriously, is there anything that he can't do? you end up getting distracted while watching him skate and when you notice that something is wrong, you're already falling. thankfully, vil catches you just in time. "you really should be more careful, my dear. i know you tend to forget about everything when you look at me and i can't blame you for that, but i can't let you get hurt."

♡ your date somehow turns into vil helping you to learn how to skate better and you're not complaining. you feel safe when you're around him and you're not afraid of falling or hurting yourself because he's with you. vil also says that you still need to work on your skills, but he finds your clumsiness very cute, so he goes easy on you. he never forgets to praise you when he sees you getting better and when it's time for you two to go back to your dorms, he tells you that you were right, he really doesn't regret going skating with you at all.

malleus draconia.

♡ malleus never tried ice skating before, but he's very excited to try it, especially if it's with you. he tries to find as much information about skating as he can and he even thinks of trying to learn how to do it, so that he can impress you.. but that's not fun at all if you're not with him. he wants this date to be special and he's afraid that it's not gonna feel that interesting if he's already good at skating! it's more fun to learn it with you than getting better at it just so that you can compliment him. though the second option sounds good too.. no, he must be patient.

♡ when your date starts, he keeps talking about everything he heard about skating and he says that he knows how skating works in theory, but he didn't practice at all, so he asks you to not laugh at him if he does something wrong. you promise that you won't, but when you imagine malleus falling, you try really hard not to laugh. but it's even more hilarious when you see malleus falling for real. there's just something about it, yes, he's a prince and one of the strongest magic users, but also this guy just fell on his face right in front of you. of course, you rush to check on him, but he's fine and you don't have to worry. he's even more motivated to get better at skating now.

♡ skating with malleus is very fun and you get to see the other side of him, a less "perfect" one. you can see that he's really trying his best and he keeps asking things like "how did i do?" and "am i getting better, y/n?". and when your date ends, you tell him that he can be proud of himself, he's already much better at skating than he was before you tried it together. he is SO HAPPY when he hears that from you and he can't stop smiling even when he comes back to his dorm. lilia doesn't even have to ask him anything, he already knows that your date went well.

#twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland imagines #twst imagines #twst headcanons #twst x reader #riddle rosehearts #riddle rosehearts x reader #azul ashengrotto #azul ashengrotto x reader #vil schoenheit #vil schoenheit x reader #malleus draconia #malleus draconia x reader

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