#and i know that i have the revelation every couple of months but something i really just need a reminder | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

planetveensz · 2 months ago

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RETRIBUTION — vi (arcane)

— you are pitfighter!vi’s newest devistating lesbian situationship. tw: fem!r, angst, sapphic longing, sapphic heartbreak, mentions of drinking/alcohol/being drunk, mentions of sex (mdni 18+), lowercase intended i'm a sadboy rn, wk 1.4k, art cred an: act two hurt me bad guys, had to take a breath and sit down to write out my feelings. please send any trauma response ideas or otherwise if you have them, i needa write this pain out fr. (i listened to vampire empire by big theif while writing this)

you’re jerked from sleep by a loud pounding behind your door.

blood turning to ice, a trickle of fear runs down your spine as your heartbeat picks up. the banging begins again, a loud rapping so violent you imagine the wood of your door bending from its force. you slide out of bed as quietly as you can; avoiding the weak, creaking spots on your floor.

you pick up the bat placed next to the threshold of your front door, fingers sliding up the handle as you inch towards the door knob. there are another three booming knocks that make you jump back with a small ‘eep!’ before gaining up the courage to rip the door open. other hand reaching to grip the bat handle, you raise it above your head, prepared to strike.

you don’t.

violet wobbles in your doorframe, a sly smile creeping on her lips when she sees your vicious state. “hey, sweetheart,” she croons, stumbling to the side and barely catching herself on the trim of your entryway.

great. she’s belligerent.

“vi,” you say her name like a statement, “what are you doing here?”

you met vi months ago, amidst the beginning of her winning streak in the pit. she spotted you on the dancefloor adjacent to the bar she frequented after her fights. she’d approached you with one thing in mind. the sex was amazing, passionate and fiery, it would have been perfect if she didn’t keep calling you by someone else's name.

“‘cmon, sweetie, don’ be like that,” she slurs, “i missed you.” you roll your eyes, but can’t help the fond smile that responds to her words. you'd kept seeing her after that first night despite every red flag, showing up at her matches just so that she could find you again. you cherished every drunken night with her.

you knew what you were doing was going to get you hurt in the end, but you supposed you just didn't care. and it wasn’t just the sex, there was something else about her that you couldn’t ignore.

among the moments of intense lust, you saw her for what she truly was. lonely. broken, sad. kind.

rubbing at your forehead, you sigh, then step aside so that she can make her way into your apartment. “i thought you said we couldn’t see each other anymore.” you tell her, manipulating your voice into a teasing lilt, but silently begging her to say what you wanted to hear. she slips past you and inside your home like she has dozens of times before.

“you know that was bullshit,” she laughs drunkenly, “i can’t stay away from you.” she says it matter-a-factly, like it is something well-known and studied. you scoff, disbelief sinking into your gut.

some nights when you ended up together, long after you first entangled, instead of sex, you would listen to her drunken rambling. while you attempted to feed her grilled cheese sandwiches and water to soak up the alcohol in her stomach, she would reveal things to you that stunned you into silence.

her father, her sister, mylo and claggor. silco, the lanes, her time in stillwater, she told you all of it. when her name — caitlyn’s name — first tumbled out of her mouth, you nearly vomited. that is what she had been calling you the first few times you hooked up. “caitlyn,” she’d whisper it into your collarbone, murmur it against your breast.

you couldn’t see her for a couple weeks after that revelation, avoiding the bar, the pit, wallowing in your self-pity. it didn’t last long. she’d shown up, much like this, begging for you to tell her what she’d done wrong. tears streaming down her cheeks as she sunk to her knees in front of you.

you just couldn’t abandon her after that night, no matter what she did. it didn’t matter anymore what she’d call you or what she wanted from you, the empathy you had for this suffering person overtook any self-preserving thoughts you had.

she was going to break your heart. you accepted it.

vi flops onto your beaten couch, laying her arms along the cushions and tipping her head back until she’s staring at your ceiling. the last time she was here it was more than three weeks ago, the longest you’d gone without her since you met her. she’d told you that she couldn’t see you any longer; your time with her was up.

you guessed it had something to do with how close you two had gotten, emotionally. not only were you discovering every way to make each other shiver in bed, you were also exploring each other's deepest thoughts and highest dreams.

your heart races in your chest as you settle yourself next to her on the couch. she lazily turns her head to set her eyes on you, the glimmering gray of her irises makes every emotion for her you’ve tried to dissolve come flooding back. “you’re so pretty,” she whispers.

you immediately feel sick, wondering if she’s having another hallucination of caitlyn. how had you gotten into this mess, fallen so deeply into the chasm that is violet’s grasp? you turn your head away from her, resting your cheek on your shoulder while you contemplate your next move.

she says your name, your name, with such clarity it shocks you. you whip your head back around to see her leaning forward, looking at you with a sobriety you haven’t seen from her before. then she kisses you.

you melt into it, allowing her to pull you against her, on top of her lap and into her arms. you sigh, it feels like coming home. she’s gentle with you, cradling and stroking your neck and arms. you sag into her.

her pouty lips are soft and warm, her tongue swipes along your bottom lip and a shudder runs down your back. when you open your mouth for her, it’s heaven.

it’s retribution.

you pull back, stumbling over your feet as you remove yourself from her lap. her chest is heaving, and you catch yourself watching her ab muscles clench with every breath. you scrub your forehead.

“this is wrong,” you say.

“what?” she scoffs a laugh, “baby—”

“this is wrong and you know it.” your voice cracks, the emotion you’ve been shoving down all these months finally coming back to suffocate you. “you’re in love with her.”

violet flinches.

“you’re in love with her, not me, and i—” a sob leaves your throat, “i’m falling in love with you and i can’t keep sacrificing myself for-for this.” you gesture between the two of you. “it’s not enough.”

“you—” vi starts, standing to meet you, “you—i can’t lose you, too.” you can see her own tears forming in her eyes. “please. i can’t.” the desperation in her voice is unparalleled, you've never heard her so emotional.

the dam breaks. you fall into her arms, wrapping yourself around her neck as you cry into each other’s shoulders. you both crumple to the floor, she is gripping you like you’re her salvation. neither of you say anything.

time passes and she falls asleep in your hold; you eventually heave her onto the couch. tucking her in with a spare pillow and blanket, you watch for a few silent moments as she peacefully breathes in her sleep.

a thought crosses your mind, maybe you could lay down next to her for the night, but you shake it away with surprising willpower. leaning above her, you press a longing kiss against her temple and squeeze your eyes shut. a murmur leaves her lips, it sounds a lot like your name.

when violet wakes her head is pounding in retaliation for how much she drank the previous night. a groan leaves her lips and her eyes flutter open as memories come streaming back to her. she gasps, sitting up too quickly. ignoring the way her stomach turns, she glances around your empty apartment.

she finds you sleeping in your room, curled up in bed, snoozing quietly. her heart clenches. she knows that you deserve better than what she's been giving you, she knows how much damage your heart has taken the last few months. she’s like a parasite, draining you of all the affection she needs and in return inflicting you with the illness that comes with caring for her.

but she can’t make herself stay away.

she knows why, too. she just doesn't have the strength to admit it.

instead, she leans above you, pressing a longing kiss against your temple and taking a shuddering breath. she pulls away and watches as a murmur leaves your lips, her name.

she wipes the crippling onslaught of tears off her cheeks as she approaches your front door. muffling the sounds of her cries with a tight hand over her mouth, she leaves, gently shutting the door behind her.

#my writing ⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚#vi x reader #violet x reader #vi arcane x reader #violet arcane x reader

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potatoplace · 3 months ago

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the 1

Elriel, Azriel x Archeron!Reader

Alternate Endings: Gone | betty | The Prophecy

mini-series masterlist | ACOTAR x reader masterlist

Story Summary: All you had ever wanted to be was plain. And now, as a plain-faced High Fae, you want more. You want your mate.

Warnings: mentions of self-harm, self-loathing, suicide

Words: ~2.6k

Author's Note: I'm sorry. (I told you guys I've been having a rough week...) Apparently my brain is saying 'fuck Kinktober!' Even tho like. I WANT to write those... smut just doesn't feel in the cards for me today 😩 so have some tasty tasty angst instead. (I'm also watching an Eras Tour live so I'm hella cheered up now lol)

18+ only pls

🤍💙🩷💙🤍

Self loathing grew in your gut as you watched your family around you.

All of them were happy, reveling in the togetherness that they shared.

And your mate- your mate- was ignoring you. He was speaking to one of your sisters, absolutely enamored with her. And you couldn’t blame him.

Elain had always been the pretty one of the four of you, a shining diamond even in the filth of poverty.

Nesta was the one with regal beauty, her sharp eyes and the way she carried herself not letting anyone think otherwise.

Your twin, Feyre, was stunning, even if she herself had never seen it, the cleverness in her eyes and quiet grace drawing people’s gaze to her.

And then there was you.

You were… the ugly one. Your mother had said so, even though you were only a child when she passed. Your father had quietly agreed with her. Nesta had mocked your looks when she had had a bad day, which was nearly every day while you had been living in the run down hut after your family lost their fortune. Elain said nothing, but shot pitying looks at you when no suitor asked for a dance while you had still been human, even when it had been a ball thrown in your honor for your birthday. Feyre has been the kindest to you, reminding you that it’s what on the inside that counts…

But that didn’t appear to be so.

Even with a mating bond that you knew should draw Azriel’s attention, his eyes were still glued to Elain. He seemed to be able to breathe only when in her presence, taking in the same air as her.

And in your presence? He couldn’t seem to get away fast enough.

Being dumped into the Cauldron had made both of your sisters even prettier, and Feyre was no exception either after being turned High Fae.

For you, it had made you plain. No longer ugly, unless you counted the still crooked teeth and too small nose and thin mouth.

Just plain.

As a human, you had begged to whatever higher power there was that you could just be plain.

But now that you were, you knew it would never be enough.

Because while Feyre was right, your personality mattered more in a long term relationship than your looks, being pretty drew people in.

Being plain only made you fade into the background.

Azriel laughed at something Elain had said, the sound sending warmth through your body.

It should be you making him laugh, not Elain.

Elain, with her beauty and poise and perfect personality and her ridiculously handsome mate who wanted nothing but her time.

Elain, who seemed to want no one and no thing but your mate.

Your Azriel.

You tore your gaze away from the couple, who you already knew were in a relationship. Elain had confessed it to you a month ago, gushing about how their fifth date had gone and how she thought he was the one. She had told you first, knowing that you wouldn’t tell anyone.

After all, who would you tell?

It’s not like you had any friends in Velaris- or in the human lands, for that matter- and your other two sisters were so preoccupied with their mates and growing personal circles that they hardly had the time to look at you, let alone talk to you.

No. You were alone. You were a lockbox for all of her secrets.

Including that she was planning to officially reject the mating bond once Azriel offered a proposal of marriage.

That had made you sick to your stomach, but you had hidden it deep, deep down in your heart as you congratulated her and faked happiness, asking her when she thought he would propose.

“Any day now, I suspect. Azriel told me that he was planning for the future, and wanted to know if I would like to be a part of it,” she had sighed dreamily. “We just need to tell the family, I know that… Rhys was worried about what us being together would mean for court relations. But he’s just being dramatic, don’t you think?” Her chocolate eyes landed on you, so filled with hope that you couldn’t tell her that he was your mate.

“Yes, he’s just worried, ‘Lain. I’m sure everything will be fine,” you managed to say, and relatively normal at that.

That was last night, and while your eyes had drifted to the carpeting, they shot back upwards at the sound of clinking metal on glass.

Your mate, standing with a flute of sparkling wine in his hand and a knife in his other, had his arm locked with Elain’s.

He cleared his throat once he had everyone’s attention, his eyes passing over everyone-

But you. His eyes skipped over you, even now, with the bond flaring in your chest.

“Elain and I have something to announce, though Rhys already knows what it is.” You heard a hand slap against an arm, Rhys’s faked moan of pain, and Nesta scolding her mate. Azriel smiled at their antics, such a rarity on his face that your heart skipped several beats, leaving you lightheaded.

It most certainly wasn’t because of what they were announcing.

“Elain and I have been dating for the past two months, and we would like to make it official with you all now. In fact, the two of us will be moving into a cottage in town later in the month, and we would like to invite you all to join us for a housewarming party in two weeks.”

The inner circle broke into cheers around you, Cassian immediately encasing his brother in his arms and clapping him on the back.

“Congratulations, brother! I know you’ve waited a long time to find love.”

You remained seated where you were, offering a smile to the happy couple but staying put.

If you stood, you were sure to faint. Or be sick. Or both.

Nesta was the only other person who remained where they were, a skeptical look on her face.

“I hate to be the person to bring the party down…” She started, her voice weary. “But what of your mates? Haven’t you wanted one for your whole life, Azriel? What will happen when you find her?”

“If I find her, I will reject the bond, Nesta. My love for Elain eclipses that of what I thought possible, even with a mating bond. Nothing and no one will ever compare to your sister,” Azriel answered, which seemed to be enough to have Nesta’s approval, as she stood and made her way to the couple.

“Then I’m happy for the both of you. But if you ever hurt my sister, you will deal with me,” Nesta warned, ice in her tone.

You didn’t stick around to hear what came next.

Nothing and no one will ever compare to your sister.

And of course, he was right. How could you compare to Elain?

She was beautiful, yes, but she was also a perfect match for Azriel. Kind and caring, always ready to help people, not to mention she would be a wonderful mother.

And then there was you. Plain. Boring. Nothing special.

Even the Cauldron hadn’t thought anything of you, leaving you with a High Fae body but no magic to speak of.

You couldn’t even fathom why you had been made Azriel’s mate when Elain was such a wonderful pairing to him, and had the magical abilities to match.

You stumbled your way to the town house, where you had taken up residence once Feyre and Rhys had finished the river house. Once inside you quickly made it to your room and shucked off your clothes after locking the door.

Bare, you stood before the mirror and assessed yourself. It was a habit you had picked up once your family had regained their fortune after Feyre had been stolen away.

One that brought you no comfort, but you needed to do.

Your physique was fine, you had filled out in the past year of being fae.

But there was nothing… special about you. You were medium height. Your chest was a bit smaller than average. Your legs were on the shorter side, making your torso look too long.

And your legs… they were covered in small white scars.

Another habit that you had picked up, this time after turning fae.

And tonight would be no different.

You suppose the one saving grace of being turned fae was your quick healing, letting you destroy your body without anyone knowing.

And no one ever would, seeing as your mate was on his way to being married to your sister.

A sigh left your lips as you turned to your bed, fishing the small blade you kept underneath out from below the mattress.

Tonight would be no different.

Except now you knew that even if you confessed your bond to Azriel, your heart would be torn to shreds no matter what.

🤍💙🩷💙🤍

It was two months later, during Starfall, that your world crumbled further.

You had donned a plain dress in a midnight blue, with long flowing sleeves and reaching your feet. You had opted for flats, seeing as no one would pay you enough attention to notice if you were in heels or not.

No, no one would notice you at all.

Because Azriel had a ring in his pocket.

One that you had given him advice on, to choose something Elain would love.

A glutton for punishment, that’s what you were as you gazed at the beautiful couple, clad in matching blue outfits and beaming at one another.

You had attempted to stay home that night, only for Azriel himself to personally fly you up to the House of Wind, insisting that you needed to be there for Starfall.

You knew he meant their engagement, though.

He hadn’t even glanced your way once last Starfall, so you knew it wasn’t that you would be missed by him.

Still, you stood on one of the balconies, watching them. Waiting for the moment that your life would be forever altered, never to have a great love.

Because truly, your one chance at a great love was a mating bond. You knew that no one would choose you to spend their life with, not when you were so plain and boring with nothing to draw people in, to get to know you.

They were dancing together, so wrapped up in each other that it was painful to watch.

And then your feet were moving, leading you straight to them. You met them right as the song finished, the two of them just inches apart.

It stung.

“Azriel, may I speak to you for a moment?” You asked without realizing the words had left your mouth. “Alone, please? It will just be a moment, I promise.”

You cringed at yourself.

What were you doing?

Azriel glanced down at Elain, who nodded with a smile. “Of course. I’ll be right back, sweetheart,” he said softly, placing a gentle kiss to Elain’s lips before following you back into the House, away from the commotion.

“What’s this about, Y/N?” Azriel asked in a clipped tone once you were alone, anxiously glancing back to where you had left Elain.

“I…” You hesitated, the words catching in your throat. Are you really going to tell him?

“Well?” He asked impatiently, his shadows swirling around him.

“I… I’m your mate,” you said, the words rushing out all at once, and your tore your eyes away from his face and to the floor.

“You’re… You’re joking, right?” Azriel asked incredulously.

A dagger of ice to the heart, crafted of your own yearning and longing for him, for your mate.

“No, I… It’s true, Azriel. I am your mate.” Your eyes flicked back up to his face after you said it again, but you wished you hadn’t.

Anything would be better than seeing the horror in his eyes, the disgust twisting his features.

The dagger, forced in further by a hand smacking the hilt.

“You?” Azriel laughed. “Why would the Cauldron make you my mate?”

Twisting, bleeding, shredding your soul apart even as you felt the bond flare to life on his end, the very slightest stumble as he regarded you.

“I… I don’t know…” You whispered, barely audible.

“You’re not my mate,” Azriel said, stepping away from you. “You were never going to be my mate. You’re a fine enough person, sure, but how could you compare to Elain?” He shook his head, snickering to himself. “I suppose these five hundred years of waiting were for nothing. I’ll tell Cassian or Rhys take you back to the town house. Just…” He sighed. “Don’t take it personally. It’s not you, it’s me, hmm?”

And with that, the bond between the two of you was shredded, a wounded cry leaving your lips as you sank to the ground, clutching your chest where it used to reside, glowing brightly and giving you a reason to go on.

“I think it’s best for you to stay away from Elain and I. I wouldn’t want you getting territorial and ripping my love’s throat out of anything. Goodbye, Y/N.”

You barely heard him walk away, so overwhelmed with pain.

Why me?

Why was I his mate?

Why didn’t I just drown in the Cauldron?

With a great deal of trying, you managed to hoist yourself back onto your feet, stumbling your way to one of the unoccupied balconies, still clutching your chest.

Your gaping, empty chest.

Because Azriel still had your heart. He had shredded it, mangled it beyond believe but it still resided with him, leaving you with nothing but a hole where it used to be.

Your legs crashed into the edge of the balcony, your hands flying to the stone to steady you.

But it didn’t help, everything was still spinning, blood rushing in your ears as your heart kept beating somehow, somehow still physically intact even as you felt it was being ripped from your chest over and over and over.

You couldn’t breathe.

You couldn’t live.

The very fact that Elain was so casual, so blasé about shredding a bond to bits had you questioning everything you thought you knew about your sister.

How could she condemn someone to this existence?

Because already, you weren’t living.

This couldn’t be living.

It couldn’t be.

You risked a peak over the edge, spying the sharp, jagged rocks below.

If you weren’t living now…

Before you could second guess your choice, you lifted yourself onto the balcony, letting your legs dangle for a moment.

Then you swung them over the stone, to the side that had nothing to catch you.

Well, nothing but the cold embrace of death.

Which at this point would be a welcome reprieve from the fiery hot grief flooding through you, grief at the bond that was never given a chance, a moment to be considered.

But perhaps that was all the consideration you needed. To know that you would only have been a burden of mate to the male you had fallen for.

You took one last, jagged breath into your lungs before you slid off the smooth stone, air rushing past you and-

This must be what it feels like to fly.

General Taglist: @daughterofthemoons-stuff @lilah-asteria

#the 1 #Azriel x reader #azriel x reader angst #elriel #archeron!reader #az x reader #Az x reader angst #azriel shadowsinger #azriel #acotar #acotar fic #angst #acotar fanfic #acotar x reader #mating bond #tato writes

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klausinamarink · 10 months ago

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based on this hilarious video with Gianmarco Soresi whom I’ve been watching his comedy work for a few months now

read on ao3

“What do you do?” The standup of the hour - the guy had introduced himself as Eddie - points at Steve.

Flustered at the attention directing every eye in the club to his table, Steve tries not to stammer as he answers, “Well, uh, I make movies.”

“Oh!” Eddie genuinely looks interested. “So you’re a director?”

“Yeah, pretty much. At least I started out as an indie, but I have a big project that’s out and a couple more on the way.” One table nearby claps and Steve tries to wave them off to stop.

“So what was that big project? Was it something we would’ve seen?” Eddie repositions himself so he has one leg up on the stool. Steve stares at how lean they seem with the tight black jeans. He’s got them daddy long legs. His brain suddenly burps out and it nearly makes Steve lose his composure.

“Uh, ha, I did The Final Bat. It’s on Shudder.” Steve shrugs nonchalantly, perfectly hiding his internal cringe. The horror genre is way out of his league and Steve’s already seen The Final Bat being on a few critical lists damning the title as another cliche-filled mess. He only did it because he had finally caved to Dustin’s pleading to make at least one horror movie.

Eddie, on the other hand, seems ecstatic by this revelation. “No way! That’s sick, dude! So the next time you make a horror flick, you’re gonna watch Blumhouse and A24 coming in at each other with steel chairs for distribution rights.”

Everyone laughs, including Robin. She smacks on Steve’s bicep with a wide grin. He smacks her back before he turns back to Eddie and clarifies, “I don’t like horror! I’m not doing it again!”

Aghast, Eddie throws an invisible hat to the ground and stamps on his feet. “Come on! Then what’s the point of watching the studios bite each other’s dicks off when you’re slipping out to watch - I don’t know - the Barbie movie! Now they’re just fighting for the next shitty horror movie to exist!”

Steve covers his mouth but fails to hold back in the laughter. Eddie’s infectious energy is starting to get to him. It makes his chest clench with something other than the usual pains.

Eddie patiently waits for the patrons to quiet down before continuing, still attentive to Steve, “I’m just wondering actually if you ever done theater class.”

“Sure did! Two years in high school,” Steve confirms.

“Let me guess, they did Hamlet?” Eddie raises an eyebrow like it’s meant to be accusatory.

“Yep, soon after I joined.” Steve nods, the memory of that production flashing before his eyes. It had its ups and downs but it was one of the most fun things Steve had ever experienced.

“No wonder they started as soon as your handsome ass walked in the club.” Eddie says low and flirtatiously into the microphone, staring directly into Steve’s eyes. It echoes across the room and back, bringing the howling laughter with it.

Heat crawls behind his face. Steve keeps his hands on the table, forcing down the urge to hide behind them. “I-” He stops to cough, “I wasn’t supposed to play Hamlet.”

Eddie’s eyes go wide, “What do you mean?!”

Robin answers loud enough for everyone to hear, “He was the grave robber, but the other guy who did Hamlet got into a coma a week before the show and Steve knew all the lines.”

“W-Woah, woah, woah!” Eddie holds his hands out, looking scandalous. He throws looks around the club. “Everyone, shut the fuck up right now! This is more important than caring about the rest of you!” Eddie drags the stool over and perches on it like a very much invested gargoyle, almost oblivious to the audience’s reaction.

“Okay, let me go through this.” He points at Steve, still holding eye contact as if Steve’s soul would provide the answer. “You weren’t Hamlet. You were meant to be the guy who gives him the skull to monologue. The OG Hamlet got into a coma for some reason-“

“Car accident.” Robin interjects.

“Yeah, no need to elaborate, ma’am. You, Steve-” Eddie breaks off for a second, holding back a laugh of his own. “You somehow knew all the Hamlet lines because you were waiting to skin OG Hamlet’s head and make his skull yours to do the monologue.”

There’s a scandalous outcry from all tables. Even when they mostly calm down, Steve uses the growing anticipation to ‘think’ about what Eddie just said before he casually shrugs and says, “Sounds about right.”

Eddie drops his face into his arm, letting everyone laugh at him. Steve lets himself break, his laughter bubbling out of him in a way that doesn’t sound so self-deprecating or hollow. If he was in a cynical mood, he would’ve thought it was pathetic that the only person who made him laugh so lightly again was some random standup.

After a moment, Eddie finally looks up, his face broken in disbelieving grin. He chuckles into the mic and looks back at Steve, “Sorry, it’s just I hear some wild stories in the crowd some nights and I think yours takes the cake.”

Steve smiles, “Thanks, man.”

Eddie stands up back, half-leaning onto the stool. “Do you still remember those lines? To be or not to be?”

The whole damn thing. “Uh… some of it?”

Eddie’s grin shifts into something more mischievous. “Let’s see who knows more.”

A collective oooh goes around the room, including Robin. She already has her phone out for recording. Steve rolls his eyes at her and takes a quick sip of his water. He clears his throat and starts, “‘To be or not to be, that is the question.’”

“‘Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer, the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune..’” Eddie says without missing a beat.

Oh, he thinks he knows it all. The sense of competition that Steve thought had died out with his future of a sports career reignites in his chest. He sits up even straighter. “‘Or to take arms against a sea of troubles and by opposing end them.’”

“‘To die-to sleep, no more.’” Eddie slowly walks over to the edge of the stage, “‘And by a sleep to say we end the heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks that flesh is heir to.’”

“'tis a consummation devoutly to be wish'd.’” Steve almost shivers as he recites the line, uncertain if it’s from the club’s cooling temperatures or the intense gaze from Eddie’s eyes. “‘To die, to sleep.’”

“‘To sleep, perchance to dream—ay, there's the rub,’” Eddie suggestively rubs a hand on his chest as he squats down. Steve’s eyes flicker to the hand, almost hypnotized by the motion. Nay, he shakes himself out of it. No distractions!

“‘For in that sleep of death what dreams may come, when we have shuffled off this mortal coil.’” It’s getting harder to remember the following lines. That hasn’t happened before. Steve has never forgotten the damn soliloquy in years, even when other people try to challenge him.

Eddie continues, “‘Must give us pause—there's the respect that makes calamity of so long life. For who would bear the whips and scorns of time, the oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely.’”

“‘The pangs-’” Steve feels his breath catching in his throat when he realizes, for the first time, what beautiful eyes Eddie has.

Oh.

Eddie suddenly perks up in excitement. For a second, Steve thinks that Eddie has come to the exact same thoughts for him. But then he remembers that he hasn’t completed his line, so Steve feigns defeat.

“I win!” Eddie stands up with a triumphant cry. He spreads his arms out to embrace the cheering whoops and applause. “And I’ve only got to play Hamlet in-” He spins around and crouches down so he can look Steve in the eye again as Eddie’s voice booms into the mic, “-FOURTH GRADE, MOTHERFUCKER!”

Steve’s not even mad. He just throws his head back, laughing and clapping along.

Almost too soon, Eddie moves on to heckle on another table. But he keeps glancing over at Steve, his smile widening every time. And Steve smiles back, feeling a laugh slip out of his slips at every joke. He watches Eddie more closely, feeling his heart pound faster in his chest the more Eddie stays onstage.

By the time Eddie has to depart and thank everyone for being here, Robin announces her need to go home and snuggle with her girlfriend.

“Man, that was the most I’ve ever laughed in this place.” Steve stretches his back, groaning at the little pops. God, being in his early thirties can be a bitch sometimes.

Robin only hums, moving her eyebrows up and down suggestively. Steve pointedly makes no further comment as he pays the tab.

Outside, the crisp night air welcomes him. Steve takes in a whiff, staring up at the light-polluted sky as he bids Robin a goodbye. Then he hears his name being called. He turns around and sees Eddie hurrying out the doors.

Steve feels a smile already on his face, “Hey, Hamlet.”

Eddie grins at him, teeth and all, “Hey, yourself.”

They stare at each other but it lacks the competitive intensity earlier. Steve likes this. But he already has a feeling that this won’t be the first time either one of them would challenge the other.

“Sooo…” Steve says when the silence stretches a little too long. He gestures between himself and Eddie, “Wanna restart our introductions?”

Eddie’s eyes brighten, “Yeah! Right, sorry.” He clears his throat and thrusts a hand out. “My name is Eddie Munson. Self-proclaimed comedian and musician. You may recognize me as the guy who beat you in Hamlet’s famous speech.”

Steve takes his hand. Eddie feels bony and thin, but large enough to fit perfectly into Steve’s palm. He tries not to sound so eager as he says, “Steve Harrington. Film director who doesn’t like horror. Believe it or not, I actually know the whole stupid thing.”

Eddie tilts his head, narrowing his eyes, “Really? Like, no offense, but even if you remember that much-”

“‘And thus the native hue of resolution is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought, and enterprises of great pith and moment with this regard their currents turn awry and lose the name of action.’” Steve winks with the Harrington Charm, smile and all.

Eddie stares at him for so long that Steve feels his heart racing for a different reason. And then, Eddie turns around and muffles a loud scream into his free hand. When the man turns back to face him, he’s sporting the widest smile Steve has never seen.

“You knew the whole thing!?” Eddie’s eyes sparkle with utter adoration.

“Yep.” Steve pops the ‘p’, grinning like a little shit.

“But why did you forget that line?”

“Let’s just say,” Steve squeezes Eddie’s hand, intertwining their fingers together, “I got distracted by the pangs of love.”

Eddie bites on his lower lip as he swoons his body over so they are pressing against each other. With half-lidded eyes, Eddie whispers, “You know that part is Hamlet referring to missing his dead dad, right?”

Of course Steve couldn’t help but kiss him.

#and now for something silly #as if i don’t always write something silly for steddie #klaus writes #steddie #stranger things

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susiephone · 2 years ago

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wtf is dracula daily?

i’ve seen a couple people ask this question on my posts about it, so i thought i’d go ahead and clear it up here!

ok so, the classic horror novel “dracula” is an epistolary novel - that means it’s told via letters, diary entries, ship logs, and news articles. (technically the term “epistolary novel” refers to works told solely through letters or emails, but many have expanded it to mean any work that is told via in-universe documents, hence why diaries and logs often get included as well. “frankenstein” is another classic example; the whole framing device is robert walton is recounting the story he heard from victor to his sister via letter. a modern example would be “several people are typing,” which is told via slack messages, or “the perks of being a wallflower,” which is told via letters from charlie to his anonymous pen pal, which is functionally more like you’re reading his diary.)

because of the nature of the narrative, we actually know the exact day nearly everything in dracula happens - the letters, news articles, diary entries, etc. are all dated.

“dracula daily” is a substack project where the novel is broken up into parts, with people who are subscribed to the project getting emails every day something in dracula happens - for example, the novel opens with jonathan harker’s journal entry on may 3, so on may 3, subscribers are emailed that entry. the action of dracula takes place from may 3 - november 6, plus an epilogue set some years later. the project started in 2021 (i think), but fucking BLEW UP in 2022, and they’re doing it again this year! lots of us are very excited - especially people like me who fell behind last time.

why not just read the book?

valid! due to some parts of dracula being told out of chronological order, dracula daily does reorder some things. for example, the first section of dracula is told entirely from jonathan harker’s pov, then the second section switches the pov to mina murray. their sections have some overlap in the timeline, so dracula daily jumps back and forth between their perspectives.

if you want to read the book as bram stoker intended, dracula daily may not be for you. but for a lot of people (myself included!), it breaks up a very long text into easily digestible chunks (....mostly. there is one entry that is 10k words), and the fact that it’s a big project means there are a lot of people reading along with you.

i think there’s also something valuable about experience the slow revelation of wtf is going on along with the characters. the book which you might otherwise get through in a few days is stretched out into months of suspense and agony as you wait for the other shoe to drop, and it’s great.

plus, the whiplash between “jonathan harker’s neverending horror” vs “lucy is basically on the bachelorette” that you get in dracula daily is very very funny.

how do i sign up?

right here! and if you sign up and fall behind in the emails, no worries - the dracula daily website posts past entries so you can catch up.

what if i prefer audiobooks?

have i got great news for you!

like i mentioned before, i couldn’t keep up with the emails last year. part of it is that it is much easier for me to focus on an audiobook or keep up with a podcast than it is for me to sit down and read, especially with longer entries.

this year, there is going to be a podcast titled “re: dracula” that was inspired by dracula daily. every episode will be a dracula daily entry, with a full voice cast! (seriously, if you listen to british podcasts, you will recognize some of these names. the magnus archives and wooden overcoats girlies are WINNING.) you can find that here.

there is also a podcast called “cryptic canticles” that has an already-completed audiodrama of dracula that i’m told is also extremely good, and was also broken up by date. you can find that here.

why do i keep hearing about paprika/the boyfriend squad/lizard fashion/cowboys?

you’ll see.

oh god am i gonna hear about this nerd shit for the rest of the year

yes. sorry.

#dracula #dracula daily #re: dracula #cryptic canticles

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yanderestarangel · 1 year ago

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★ ⸺ ARRANGED MARRIEGE - FIRST TIME - TOMAS VRBADA X READER

TW: ftm reader, husband x husband, v!sex, blowjob, rough sex, dom!tomas, unprotected sex, praise, degradation, pet names, stable relationship, creampie, breedkink, smut, afab anatomy, horny.

The antipathy that the Grand Master, aka Bi Han, felt towards his own brother, Tomas, was nothing new for anyone in the Lin Kuei clan. What was supposed to be just internal conflicts turned into something bigger, with Bi Han arranging a marriage for the smoke ninja.

And the arranged marriage was with you.

You had been married to him for seven months, he was a good husband even though you had never had sex, he always respected you, defended you from Bi-Han or anyone else. You talked like friends, he always remembered special dates for you or used his money to spoil you, anyone looking from the outside could swear that the two of you were a couple together due to common circumstances.

But you couldn't ignore Tomas's robust muscles, handsome masculine face, blue eyes, and sweet yet dominant air -

It was a hot day, so you decided to just wear an apron to cook and clean the house, watching the sunset enter your house as shared with Tomas, he arrived earlier that day, seeing you there, half naked with just an apron constricting the front part of your body.

"-I apologize for the unexpected arrival, I completed my mission early today." He replied, observing your delicate form, the way your breasts swayed with each movement, the glimpse of your exposed pussy. Vrbada cleared his throat, trying to compose himself and push back the primal desire that had suddenly stirred within him. He walked towards you, his steps determined and controlled, his voice firm but full of desire.

Tomas put down his water bottle and slowly approached you, his eyes never leaving your attractive figure.

"-You are a kind and beautiful person, and I'm lucky to have you as my husband... did you know that?"

His eyes remained on your exposed body, taking in every curve and contour. He moved closer to you, reaching out to gently cup your breast, sending a wave of pleasure throughout your body. "-Such a handsome boy, I can't contain myself anymore (Y/N)... let me make you feel good." He said softly, his fingers tracing gentle circles around your nipple.

You moaned softly, feeling a rush of desire as his touch sent shivers down your spine. His hand moved lower, sliding over your belly and down towards your exposed pussy. He stopped his hand, looking at you as he saw you sigh, frustrated and full of accumulated lust.

"-On your knees my boy, I need to see you worshiping my cock." You obeyed, the pain of the floor against your knees, he moaned loudly when you took his cock into your mouth. It was a sight to behold. You massaged his cock with your hands as you sucked him, your lips sliding up and down his shaft. Tomas thrust his hips forward, pushing deeper into your mouth. "-Oh dear is so good." He whispered, his hands tangling in your hair.

"-I want to fuck you. I want to feel your tight pussy around my dick, damn you're so beautiful sucking me like that..." He said, his voice low and husky.

"-Yes, my husband... be careful. I don't want to hurt you." He pushed the sensitive, pulsing shaft further. As you continued to suck his cock, Tomas felt his desire grow stronger, he wanted to feel you around his cock, to feel you come for him. He looked down at you, his blue eyes full of affection and dominance, reveling in the control he had over you in this moment. He could feel his climax building, a primal need to claim you coursing through his veins. You decided to provoke him, push his limits, taking his cock out of your mouth, while hitting the thick shaft on your tongue, he couldn't believe his eyes as he watched you slap his cock against your tongue, the sight of your pussy dripping onto the floor only increased his desire, making him want you even more.

He grabbed your hair tightly, pulling you closer as he thrust his hips forward, slamming his cock into your tongue.

"-You're a fucking dirty baby boy... how long have you wanted to be fucked by me like this? Just begging for cock in those tight holes of yours, aren't you?" he growled in a deep voice, slamming into your mouth with his hips, making you moan against the hard, thick flesh of his length - But before he could reach his peak - Tomas pulled away from your mouth, his heavy breathing filling the silence. He wanted to explore every inch of your body, taste your essence and savor the moment. With a quick movement he threw you on the soft sofa in the living room, easily holding your thighs, the apron you were wearing was still on your skin, but it was useless, since you were completely exposed to him.

"-Open your legs wider, my sweet boy. Show me your tight pussy, I want to see it when I fuck you." He forced your thighs to open wider, he knew you were embarrassed but at that moment it didn't matter, not to him. He positioned his cock at your entrance, the head of his cock pushing against your tight pussy.

You moaned loudly as he advanced, feeling the tip of his dick slowly enter you, the ninja couldn't believe how beautiful you looked, your legs shaking and your pussy drooling from simply sucking his dick, it was too much for him to resist - he wanted to be a gentleman, but pretty boys like you took away any sanity or chivalry he had worked on for years - He grabbed your hips tightly, pulling you closer as he thrust forward, his cock sliding deeper inside you, you could feel his groin connected with yours, see his abdomen close to your core, as he finally had managed to fully enter you.

"-Atta boy... you're so tight. I can't believe how good this feels Fuck yes..." He said, his eyes locked on yours as he began to fuck you harder, his hips moving in a rhythm that made you moan with pleasure.

"-You like being fucked by your husband, don't you? My husband is just a whore for my cock." He whispered, smiling against you, his voice low and husky as he continued to pound your pussy hard and mercilessly. "-You're my dirty little whore." His hands slid down your body, cupping your breasts and squeezing them firmly as he increased the pace of his thrusts, the pleasure grew, his body shaking with the anticipation of release as your walls clenched around him.

"-I need you to scream my name", He ordered, as he growled in pleasure, broken moans coming out of his throat. "-I want everyone to know who brings you pleasure, I'm going to fuck you so hard that I'm going to make you scream for me."

His thrusts became stronger, more desperate, as he lost himself in the pleasure of fucking you, the tight grip of your pussy sent waves of ecstasy through his body. "-You're my husband, my love, my everything." He wanted to cum, to feel yourself around his cock as he came inside you, marking you as his, the veins on his member pulsing in you as he sought support on the couch.

"-I'm going to fucking breed you." Smoke groaned, his eyes locked on yours as he began to cum, feeling the pleasure build inside him until he finally exploded, cumming deep inside your pussy, hot, thick jets, he let out a series of loud sounds that echoed throughout the house and even out, while you milked your husband's cock even more. You moaned softly as he pulled out, feeling the heat and wetness left by his dick, you could feel his cum dripping from your pussy, staring at his muscular and now totally sweaty physique as he leaned in to give you a sweaty kiss on your forehead.

"-I want to make love to you one more time tonight." Tomas declared with conviction, as him connected your foreheads, catching his breath slightly, it was just the beginning and you knew it... maybe an arranged marriage wouldn't be so bad after all.

©YANDERESTARANGEL 2023

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shxuga · 1 month ago

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Whispers of the Deep II | Twisted Wonderland

Jade × Floyd Leech x Female!Reader | Pirate AU | Part I

You shouldn't be so surprised by your captain’s and crewmates' reactions.

But damn it! It was more disappointing than you expected.

When you stumbled back onto the Rosehearts (which, honestly, had seen better days—the battle had left the poor ship riddled with holes, creaking painfully whenever someone stepped too hard on the bow or stern), you were greeted in a way only those who spend every hour of every day together can appreciate:

“You’re still alive?! Whatever, let’s celebrate!”

You needed a decent meal and lots of water to feel like yourself again after that month. But of course, Ace wouldn’t let you go without downing several rounds of beer in your honor first. Deuce was easily dragged along by the others, and Cater didn’t hesitate to join the impromptu party held that night at the bay.

It took you hours to track down your captain and Mr. Trey, ready to deliver a detailed report and reveal the truth behind your absence. Most of the crew gathered as witnesses, not quite drunk enough to miss the big revelation.

“Mermaids… No, mermen. I encountered mermen.” You revealed it with your usual seriousness, though your expression betrayed a flicker of determination.

A wave of drunken laughter greeted you after a moment of tense silence. Even Cater, the one responsible for spreading all those wild tales, couldn’t hold back his loud, stomach-clutching laughter as he pounded on the poor rookie seated next to him.

“Maybe you hallucinated? You know, that happens when you barely eat or drink at sea,” Trey said gently, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. You kept a blank expression as you watched the rest of the idiots who refused to stop laughing at you.

“She probably drank too much seawater!” Ace chirped between fits of laughter, setting off another round of shrieks and amused exclamations from the others.

You were tempted to use the knife you’d taken from Floyd after cutting off his scale and slice his tongue, but your captain intervened faster.

“In any case,” he said firmly, his tone silencing the laughter instantly as he shot everyone a warning look, “it’s good to see you’re well. For now, get some rest.”

And as much as you were tempted to press the issue and prove your words true, you were exhausted. You needed to sleep for at least two days. After that, you’d think about your next move and stop ignoring the tingling that surged through your body every time you glanced at the scale.

• • •

You recovered quickly. It was to be expected; despite your encounter with those two furious eels, they hadn’t done more damage than a couple of scratches on your side. However, there was an uncomfortable feeling inside you that, somehow, made it seem like it was slowly killing you.

As planned, two days after eating and sleeping well, you stormed into your captain’s cabin and presented your strongest evidence as a last resort:

The scale.

“You’re saying... this black stone is the scale of a merman?” he raised an eyebrow. You blinked like an owl, and Trey, behind you, struggled to stifle a laugh.

It was true your eye was damaged, you couldn’t deny that, but the bluish-green glow surrounding the scale every time you pulled it from your pocket was as obvious as the fact that the sky was blue and the sea salty. Just in case, you took the appendage between your fingers and held it close to your eye, stunned, ignoring how your captain’s confused look quickly turned to impatience. The lieutenant behind you stopped laughing to try and rescue you before it was too late.

“A black stone... you say?”

“Get out of here.”

You couldn’t argue. Trey kicked you out of the cabin before you could even notice your mistake.

Frankly, you were anxious. You would have preferred to bury this incident deep in your mind and continue with your chaotic life, treating it like a bad dream or something. But that damn scale was a reminder that it had all been real—very real. You tried every possible way to get rid of it: you threw it into the sea, buried it in the sand, tossed it into a bonfire, and even placed it on one of Cater’s plates, watching as he swallowed it.

But somehow, it always returned to the same spot.

By the third day, the anxiety had crawled into your insides. It slithered through them, like the skilled hand of a butcher slicing and cutting its prey. You couldn’t look at the sea without that nagging feeling that the pair would emerge from its depths, dragging you down, picking at your mind. You were tense, paranoid at the constant splashes and loud noises filling the ship now that it was under repair. According to Ace, the most experienced carpenter, it would take a whole month to restore the Rosehearts to its former glory.

You decided to distance yourself from the ship and the sea by heading to the village. You hadn’t stepped foot there since you reunited with your crewmates, but now that you were more alert, you noticed a lot of things: mermaids were a recurring topic on this coast. The fantasy of beautiful, half-fish beings was a common theme for anyone with a sea-bound lifestyle... but in this village, mermaids, mermen, and magic were deeply rooted in its very DNA. The cane and wooden houses were adorned with somewhat rudimentary illustrations of these creatures, there were many street vendors on the ground, inviting you to buy trinkets they claimed to have stolen from the very kingdom of Atlantis. Tragic songs, fantastic tales, the clinking of coins, and distant conversations made up the chaotic center of the village. Even in your illiteracy, you recognized how words like “mermaid,” “song,” and “sea” were the most recurring on every corner you passed.

You moved away from the bustle and crowds, with the persistent feeling that you wouldn’t find what you were looking for there. You didn’t know what possessed you to sneak through alleys you had never seen, feeling the wind, smelling of salt, whispering your name, and the scale in your pocket beating with its own pulse. Almost at the edge of the village, you came across a shop that looked... curious. On a small dock that the owner had probably built himself (because the structure didn’t look all that safe), stood a gloomy cabin, with moss, barnacles, and salt stains on the parts closest to the sea. There was a sign above a door made of threads, beads, and seashells, but due to your condition, you didn’t even try to understand what the twisted letters on it could mean.

“This is not a good idea...”

Even so, your feet made their way through the damp, creaking wood. The beads on the door tinkled, announcing your entrance. The smell of rancid fish filled your nostrils as you glanced around the place, keeping your guard up and your good eye scanning the area with suspicion. Moss and pieces of coral were scattered everywhere, the windows were sealed with dark tarps, and the only thing that had prevented you from tripping over the many shelves full of marine trash around you was the dim light of dark candles. The place looked just like the description of a witch or shaman’s house, with all those jars filled with eyes and viscera around you. And right in the center of it all, a large, dark, worn-out cauldron bubbled with a suspicious concoction. Out of curiosity, you shortened the distance between you and the cauldron, drawn by the things floating in the thick, bubbling liquid.

Ugh... it smells like the captain's food.

"It’s been a long time." A voice echoed from within the walls, startling you.

You turned towards the voice’s origin, but saw no one. You looked back at the cauldron, tense. Then, a figure appeared. It was hard to tell if it was a man or a woman, but there was one thing clear: they were beautiful. Their pale skin glowed with a sickly green hue from the soup in the cauldron, their eyes were crescent moons that seemed to contain the very ocean, with all its shades of blue dancing in their sockets, surrounded by thick lashes and laughter. Their hair was something you’d never seen before; it shone like silver, and even though they wore a dark, tattered tunic in a place that stank of fish, you were sure that beautiful, soft hair smelled incredible. As a final touch, those ethereal, flawless features had a pretty mole painted beneath their lip.

You stared, stunned, as the owner of the place sprinkled spices into the cauldron, causing a soft explosion to rise from it.

"Has it been a long time since you had visitors...?"

"It’s been a long time since someone with a scale visits my shop." He looked at you, unperturbed. "Please, have a seat."

His voice was rich and polite, but with a hint of authority. Before you could respond, a chair appeared behind you, and you fell into it.

A hand extended over the cauldron, cutting through the hazy veil that created amorphous shapes of bone-white. Feeling as though you might find the answers to questions you hadn’t even known you had, you obeyed. Taking the appendage from your pocket, you extended it towards them. He took it carefully, bringing it to his face with a solemn and analytical expression.

"Can you see it? When I tried to show it to someone else..."

"They told you it was a stone." You nodded slowly, confused.

"Only those who have formed a bond with a mermaid or triton can recognize a true scale."

"Bond? I didn’t do anything like that, I just defended myself!"

"Your blood and his touched the scale." He replied with boredom. "Whether you like it or not, your life and his are now one."

The chill still hadn’t left your bones when the stranger closed their fingers around the scale. He moved it slowly between his hands, as though examining a rare jewel, and his gaze seemed to shine brighter with each turn.

You couldn’t hold back the question that burned on your tongue.

"Who are you?"

The stranger looked up, and for the first time, they gave you something resembling a smile, though their lips barely curled.

"Azul" He answered in a soft, yet firm voice. His tone had the certainty of someone who knew his name meant far more than it seemed.

Azul. You couldn’t deny that the name suited him like a glove. It was a name as cold and distant as the depths of the sea, but it also had something hypnotic, almost comforting. As if you had heard it before, in a dream you couldn’t quite remember.

"How do you know all this?" You asked with suspicion, your good eye narrowing as you crossed your arms.

Azul didn’t answer right away. He just stared at you, with an unsettling patience. Then, slowly, he placed the scale on the edge of the cauldron, where it began to glow with a pale light that almost seemed to breathe.

"The seas speak." He murmured, not taking his eyes off you "And you, pirate, are now part of their stories."

A different chill ran down your spine. It felt as though an invisible layer that had protected you from the world had been stripped away, and Azul seemed to see it all. As if he knew every detail, even the ones you yourself could barely understand.

"How long has it been since your encounter with the triton?" He asked, his voice serene, but with a hint of urgency that wasn’t there before.

"Three days" You answered, feeling a pang of anxiety as you said it aloud.

Azul tensed for just a moment, but it was enough for you to notice. His eyes, those moons full of ocean, narrowed as he exhaled slowly, as if calculating something.

"Three days... " Azul repeated quietly, as if the number confirmed bad news. He stepped closer to you, so quietly that you barely heard his footsteps. "That’s more time than it should have been."

"What do you mean?" You inquired, trying not to sound as frightened as you felt.

"The bond you’ve created isn’t something you can ignore." He explained, his tone growing graver with every word. "You and the triton are now connected. Separated for too long, both of you... will die."

The words fell like stones in your stomach. You didn’t know whether to laugh, scream, or just run out of that cabin, filled with salt and secrets.

"What kind of joke is this? I didn’t even want that bond!"

"That doesn't matter" Azul replied, looking at you with a mix of compassion and harshness ". What matters is that now, your fate is tied to theirs. If you don’t find them soon, both of you will begin to crumble from within."

The scale, still at the edge of the cauldron, seemed to glow more intensely, as if responding to their words. Your heart pounded, a restless drumbeat in the silence that followed. The creaking of the wood beneath your boots and the salty smell that filled the cabin became even more oppressive after what Azul had said. Death, binding, a shared fate with a creature you barely knew. It wasn’t what you had imagined when you tore that scale from the merman.

Azul took a step back, his eyes fixed on you, as if analyzing every thought crossing your mind.

"How... how do I find them?" You asked, your voice barely a whisper.

"You must go to the farthest beach of the village" He said finally, his voice barely a murmur, blending with the wind outside the cabin ". At midnight. Bring offerings."

You frowned, crossing your arms. The memory of their laughter, the burning sensation of your lungs filling with the sea, and all the desperation you had to fight in your first encounter with those deadly creatures, brought bitterness to your chest.

"Offerings? For the merman who tried to kill me?" You retorted incredulously. "I don’t think he deserves anything."

Azul tilted his head as if considering your comment a mere distraction.

"They’re curious by nature. It wasn’t personal. " he said, shrugging.

The furrow between your brows deepened, you had the impulse to stand up but felt an invisible force holding you back.

"Curious?! No one kills out of curiosity!"

For a moment, something dark passed through Azul’s eyes, a flash of something deep and ancient. When he spoke again, his voice was louder, sharper. You could feel his hostility reverberating through every piece of wood in that cabin. For a brief moment, you saw a shadow full of writhing tentacles projected on his back.

"That’s exactly what humans do. With everything they don’t understand..."

The reproach in his words hit you like a cold wave. Your mouth opened to respond, but nothing came out. It lingered in the air, along with that uncomfortable truth you didn’t have the courage to face. Azul, however, didn’t wait for you to find your response. He took another step closer, his presence filled with an unsettling calm.

"Bring trinkets" he suggested, as if nothing had happened ". Simple things. Utensils, maybe rings or necklaces. They don’t understand human value, but they’re fascinated by shiny things. And if that’s not enough, sing. They’re drawn to music."

You bit your lip, still uncertain, but something in his gaze made you relent. With an exasperated sigh, you nodded slowly.

"This is crazy..."

Azul didn’t respond, simply extending his hand toward you, returning the scale. But now it was tied to a fine, sturdy string, turning it into a necklace that seemed to pulse gently against your skin when you took it. The light from the scale glowed with a faint radiance, almost as if being in contact with you once more brought it back to life.

"Put it on." Azul ordered.

"What?" you asked, looking at the scale as if it were burning your fingers.

"Don’t even think about getting rid of it again" He warned, his tone darker than ever ". If you do, the consequences will be severe."

The threat was clear, and though you wanted to argue, you knew it wouldn’t make much sense. Slowly, you put the necklace on. The scale rested cold against your clavicle, but a strange sense of warmth flooded you moments later.

• • •

It was crazy.

Since you fell into the sea a month ago, nothing had gone the way you wanted. And now you were here, taking trinkets from the ship you called home, dragging a sack like a thief in the middle of the night. Carefully, you managed to reach the beach without waking anyone. It would be a tragedy if they caught you stealing... no matter how useless your loot seemed.

Armed only with an old oil lamp and your trusty knife at your side, you walked along the beach, dragging the sack. You walked for a while, until the Rosehearts, the port, and the village became a distant blur.

You followed Azul's words and made sure to place your offerings very close to where the sea licked your boots with each small wave. You didn't consider yourself someone with exquisite taste, but at least you had enough skill to arrange the cheap trinkets, cups, and cutlery in a way that looked somewhat aesthetic. As a final touch, you placed the hat you stole from Ace, as a kind of personal revenge after he kept mocking you about the whole mermaid thing.

And you waited.

You didn't indulge in the luxury of relaxing by sitting in the sand; your body remained alert. Even though Azul had said that your life and Floyd's were now linked, you didn’t trust that would save you from injury. You had already witnessed his strength and skill underwater, and you wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.

Minutes passed, and your unease grew.

"Where the hell are they...?"

If Floyd’s life was as much at risk as yours, shouldn’t he be just as anxious to find you?

“And if that’s not enough, sing. They’re attracted to music.”

Azul’s words hit you like a bucket of cold water. You remembered how, that night, only after singing did the creatures deign to appear.

"Damn it..." you muttered, swallowing your pride before beginning to sing.

You weren’t a terrible singer, but you weren’t particularly good either. Besides, you were too tense, and your voice came out stiff and somewhat off-key. However, it improved a little when you decided to hum the parts of My Jolly Sailor Bold that you didn’t remember, following the rhythm of the gentle waves. Too focused on your task, your eyes fixed on the bright moon above your head, you didn’t notice the olive glow starting to emerge slowly in the distance. You cut yourself off abruptly, just a couple of verses from finishing the song, startled by the splashing of the sea, now dangerously close to you.

The splashing grew more insistent, as if the waves themselves were trying to warn you of what was approaching. You forced yourself to take a deep breath, remembering Azul’s words, but that didn’t stop your fingers from tightening around the knife handle at your side. The olive glow split into two figures, and before you could fully prepare yourself, they emerged: Jade and Floyd.

Water dripped from their scales, gleaming under the moonlight. Both of their eyes fixed on you, glowing as if they could read every thought you tried to keep hidden. Floyd smiled first, crawling through the wet sand with a grin that seemed more like a threat than a greeting. You stepped back, not even thinking about whether they might take it as an offense.

"Look, Jade... The human came back. And she even brought us gifts." Floyd made a careless gesture toward the trinkets scattered on the sand, but his eyes never stopped evaluating you.

Jade, however, remained silent, studying you with his characteristic air of calculated calm. His gaze, however, was sharper than any weapon you could wield.

"That seems to be the case, Floyd. Though I wonder... with what intentions?" His voice was soft but left no room for misinterpretation.

Your throat went dry. Despite the tension, you lifted your chin, refusing to show weakness. Azul had warned you that confidence would be crucial.

"I'm not here to fight. Or to rip off any more scales." You let the knife fall to the ground, as a gesture of goodwill. The dry sound it made on the sand was louder than you expected.

Floyd tilted his head, amused.

"Not even a little bit? You sure?" He gave a couple of flaps, bringing him dangerously close to where you stood. You could feel the weight of his presence, every muscle tense beneath the water.

"Floyd." Jade's warning was subtle but effective. His brother stepped back, though the grin never left his face.

You took a deep breath, feeling how, with their presence, something inside you loosened. Not entirely, but enough. As if that constant tension, that invisible knot that had followed you since that night at sea, started to dissolve. You hadn’t realized how heavy it had been until now. Azul was right, being away from him was killing you.

"I brought something... that I think you might like." You gestured toward the small improvised altar in front of them. Your voice didn’t tremble, and that was an achievement in itself, but the real relief was in your chest, less tight, as if, at least for now, you could allow yourself to breathe.

Floyd looked at the trinkets with an amused expression, while Jade, more contained, scanned each item carefully.

"And what's this supposed to be?" Floyd asked, a flash of amusement in his eyes. "A bribe?"

"An offering." You clarified, keeping your gaze fixed on both of them. You weren’t going to back down. "The least I could do to have this conversation without ripping each other's heads off."

The sound of the sea mixed with the crunch of your boots on the wet sand. You realized you no longer felt the same weight on your shoulders; dealing with them, although clearly dangerous, felt less exhausting than carrying all this uncertainty alone.

Jade let out a slight sigh, as if measuring your words.

"Why now? You could have hidden and waited for it all to blow over." His tone was soft, but the words were sharp. An implicit challenge.

"Because it’s not going to blow over..." You crossed your arms, feeling an unusual calm. It wasn’t resignation, but a kind of acceptance that allowed you to speak without haste, without the urgency that had accompanied you in the past weeks. "This bond, or whatever it is we have, isn’t going to disappear on its own. In fact, it could have killed us. Besides, I don’t think any of us wants to share our fate with someone we barely know."

The mocking spark in Floyd’s eyes faded, replaced by a shadow of seriousness.

"Share fate?" He repeated, his voice lower. "That sounds poetic."

"It sounds like a nightmare." You corrected him, without altering your tone. Your body was no longer on guard; the feeling of danger persisted, but the mental burden had lightened. "That’s why I’m here. I want to find a way to break it. Without killing anyone."

Jade and Floyd exchanged a look. It was as if they communicated in a silent language, one you couldn’t understand, but their conclusion was clear when Jade spoke.

"And what do you propose?"

"Each of us looks for a solution. I in the human world; you, in the sea." You paused, letting the sound of the waves fill the silence. "We’ll meet here every two days. We share what we find. No tricks, no games. Only results."

Floyd raised an eyebrow, his smile returning slowly.

"And if we find something before you?"

"Then we discuss it." You made an effort to keep your posture relaxed, even though your mind was already planning every possible scenario. "But again: no tricks."

"We need to set rules, then." Jade slightly tilted his head, evaluating you. "The first: no lying. If you do, the deal is off."

You nodded.

"The second: don’t bring anyone else. No humans, no unexpected allies." The weight of his words hit you. They knew about your crew; that feeling of the sea watching you wasn’t just a feeling... it was a truth.

You paused a second longer than necessary, but then nodded again.

"And the last..." Floyd took a step forward, lowering his tone, as if confiding a secret. "If we find a solution without you, don’t expect us to give it to you gently."

"I’m not here for pleasantries." Your words came out softer than you expected. It wasn’t defiance, but certainty. "I’m here to fix this. Period."

The wind blew, and for the first time in days, you didn’t feel like it was ripping something from you. The weight in your mind was real, but less oppressive, as if by sharing this burden with them, even temporarily, the path had become less lonely.

"Two days." Jade turned, disappearing into the water like an elegant shadow. Floyd followed, but stopped just before diving in, throwing you one last smile.

"Don’t be late, little shrimp."

And with one last splash, he was gone.

You stood there, looking at the horizon, breathing in the salty air. For the first time in a long time, the silence didn’t feel like a threat.

Tag list: @valentinaagarcia

#twisted wonderland #twst #ツイステ #ace trappola #deuce spade #jade leech #floyd leech #jade leech x reader #floyd leech x reader #azul ashengrotto #pirate au #fanfic #ao3

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katsukiizmoon · 2 years ago

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╰┈➤ ꒰🍓💌🥛 ┊”Dirty whore, Eij saw you” + BKG꒱

『♡』 found this in my drafts from months ago, I think I was half asleep while writing on my phone… again.

『♡』 bakugou x reader, alcohol consumption, f! Reader, thigh riding, exhibitionism, Kirishima watches you rub your pussy on katsuki lol, ONE degradation mention only one tho, uhhh Mina talks about dick, yeah that’s just about it, idk how to finish this so I’ll just not !

You’re relaxing, spending the day together and having fun when the caramel pools of want soak into you.

Something about sitting on his lap, in your pretty little skirt, makes your mind wander. Your face heats, room feeling as if it’s risen a few degrees in temperature.

But you’re in public— sort of. His friends are there, you’re all at Kirishima’s place to have some dinner. Something about a barbecue.

To the outside eye this is a normal, pure, innocent thing to do. Sitting on your boyfriends lap is normal. It’s fine. It’s fine.

Your hips adjust a bit, clothed core directly pressing onto this thigh. Your leg bounces, trying to ignore the heat and slick beginning to bubble up. The thin, dark skirt is adjusted to cover a little more. Now no one can see the angle your hips are resting.

Kirishima gives you a big smile, handing a orange drink to the both of you.

“It’s nothing crazy, just a little slushee with some ciroc in it.” He reassures, and you take your first sip.

The sun begins to set, warm rays dying down as they begin to lay to rest for the night. People are slowly going home but the majority are still enjoying the get together.

Katsuki bounces his leg and oh. Oh fuck, that feels good. Your hips kick forward a little, pussy clenching on nothing.

You adjust yourself a little more. Clit beating like it has a pulse, and your boyfriend takes a sip of his drink. You know you’re wet, without even checking.

Kirishima grabs a snack platter now, placing it in front of all of you. You lean forward, hips hinging to grab some crackers and pepperoni. It rubs your clothed clit against him again and your thighs squeeze together a bit.

Katsuki’s thick thigh moves a bit again, dark sweatpants rubbing against you. You lean back, an arm of his finding purchase around your waist. You feed him a little ‘sandwich’ and continue talking to Mina.

She’s going on about a recent fling and giggles.

“His dick was like wayyyy big but he came two thrusts in. Talk about a disappointment!” The girl deemed “pinky” exasperates.

A couple people chuckle and you pipe up. “How big though? Like Eij’ or-“ the thigh bounces again and your mind races.

Luckily no one catches it, you don’t think. Mina starts going on about the guys cock. Talking about wanting it in her mouth, but he apparently also couldn’t be mean.

“I mean-“ she gestured length and girth with her hand “like that! I just wanted some good dick, but no!” Mina finishes, stuffing her face with a variety of snacks.

“Yeah then his dick is probably about as big as mine’ but some guys think size is everything. It ain’t. It’s a lot of work getting it to fit.” The red head offers another drink and you oblige.

Alcohol swims through your veins. It makes you bold- much too bold. Cause now your hips are rutting, lightly against the blonde beneath you.

His cock strains against the waistband of his sweatpants. Katsuki’s on cloud nine watching you, you think you’re getting away with it.

You are not.

He can feel your pussy leaking and clenching with all of his movements. So he jostles you again, reveling in the way you squeeze around nothing.

You’re soaking through your panties a bit, by now. Almost everyone has left and only you, him, and eij’ are remaining. Mina is on the couch knocked out.

His best friends eyes are half lidded while watching you. Katsuki knows you’ve already been found out. He’d been watching for the past hour, every time you’d squeeze your legs or move a little too much.

Kirishimas tongue swipes over his plush lips and he blinks slowly. Eyes flicking down to where the blondes leg now bounces up and down, lightly. Then, to your eyes, and finally to katsuki’s.

Katsuki takes note of the red head’s tent in his pants. Then watches a flush spread across his poor best friends face, and his own cock starts leaking precum. There will no doubt be a sticky mess beneath tanned skin, where the head of his cock has been nestled.

You push your hips down into him a little more and abuse your poor bottom lip with your teeth. It feels so good, your pussy is leaking everywhere. Nothing could possibly be better than this.

“We’re gonna stay here tonight, eij’. Had a few too many, don’t wanna drive.” Your boyfriend suggests and you all but whine.

“But babe we-“ He grabs your hips and pulls down, earning a whimper and a look of betrayal.

Kirishima shrugs, already deciding to clean up later rather than now. His eyes meet your boyfriends one last time before he stands up and begins walking towards the stairs.

Katsuki pulls you inside and up into the spare room. There his fingers force themselves between your legs to slick with your juice. He yanks them out and shoves them in your mouth.

“Dirty whore. Eij’ saw you.” He rasps.

Oh you are so fucked.

#bakugou x reader #masterlist #gochujang #Drabble #boba time #bakugou #bakugou x you #bakugo smut #bakugou katsuki smut #bnha bakugou #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #katsuki x reader smut

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bullet-prooflove · 1 month ago

Text

Scar Tissue: Beau Simpson x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @b-bradshaw @crimeshowjunkie @inkandarsenic @caffeinatedwoman

Companion piece to:

Nine Months - Beau comes home from his deployment to a surprise revelation.

Beau has his face buried in the pillow, his teeth biting down on the fabric as your hands smooth over his back, fingers digging into the knot in his right shoulder. It’s scar tissue from Syria, his doctor tells him. Every so often it stiffens, reducing the movement in his arm. He usually goes to chiropractor but he’s been cooped up on an aircraft carrier for the past few months and he needs the relief.

“I know.” You whisper reassuringly as your thumb presses even harder into the scar tissue. “I know it hurts but it’ll be over in a minute.”

He grunts his response as the muscle tightens before it gives way under you’re ministrations. The relief floods his senses, his body relaxing into the mattress.

“Better?” You ask and he shifts, his cheek pressing into the pillow as he nods his head. You lean over him, your lips lightly brushing over his temple before you clamber off him. He watches as you stride into the bathroom, that silk, floral kimono fluttering as you walk. You rinse the lavender oil off your hands before drying it with a hand towel he doesn’t recognise.

There’s been a few new changes to the house while he’s been away. A dark wood antique desk has appeared in the living room, tucked underneath the window that looks out into the backyard, an ergonomic chair goes with it. When he put his clothes away he noticed office attire in the wardrobe. Power dresses, blazers and high heels. It’s how he knows you’re serious about retiring from the military, that this isn’t just a knee jerk reaction to a deployment that was far too long for either one of you.

“Was the deployment the tipping point?” He asks you as you step back into the bedroom, rubbing lotion into your hands. “Or was it something else?”

You lean against the doorframe, toying with your wedding ring as Beau shifts into a sitting position against the headboard, the sheets pooling around his hips.

“I don’t have a choice.” You say finally. “My time with Victim’s Support is coming to an end and I found out my next posting is Naples.”

The air rushes out of Beau’s lungs, his chest constricts because a posting isn’t like a deployment. It’s longer, a hell of a lot longer. Three years to be exact. He can’t imagine going that long without you, seeing you in intervals, a couple of weeks at a time. He understands now, that you’re sacrificing your career for the marriage, that you’re giving up one of the most important things in your life so the two of you can be together.

It’s an echo back to that first time he was deployed to Germany. You’d had a choice of posting and you’d picked San Diego so you could be together but he was already shipping out.

“I had lunch with Mic last month when he came up from Washington.” You say quietly, your attention still focused on your wedding ring. “His firm is opening a new branch here in San Diego, they’ve offered me a job and I’m going to take it.”

“Is that what you want?” He asks you, his voice a little rough and you swallow hard against the emotion in your chest, your eyes stinging.

“I don’t see us surviving any other way.” You say softly, your gaze flicking up to meet his. “I can’t go three years without you Beau, no matter how much I may like Italy.”

“And you do like Italy…” He says with a mirthless smile as he stares down at his own wedding ring. “Ally… I don’t know if I can retire.”

You try to hide the hurt but he sees it, he sees everything when it comes to you.

“I understand Beau.” You say, your voice completely devoid of emotion. “You’ve got to do what’s best for you.”

Love Beau? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

#beau simpson #beau simpson x reader #beau cyclone simpson #top gun maverick #top gun cyclone #jon hamm #cyclone simpson

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theanimeroom · 9 months ago

Note

how would kazutora survive nnn 👀

NSFW UNDER THE CUT || MINORS DNI

NOVEMBER 1ST, 2023 || 11:42AM

NNN CHALLENGE MASTERLIST

i'm sorry, but this dude is a loser in the best possible way. kazutora hanemiya is someone with little to no self-control, and i think that is a fact everyone knows. he was always a needy person, especially when it came to his friends. he would go out of his way for their attention and praise, even if it meant resorting to less... ethical methods.

you already knew that kazutora would have a difficult time making it through the challenge, as he was your obsessive boy who could never seem to keep his hands off of you. you would have loved to say you at least thought he would make it past the first week, but you didn't even have that much faith in the man to make that promise (and be grateful that you didn't, you almost owed baji 20 bucks for that bet).

when you had suggested the idea at first, you had just wanted to see his reaction. you didn't think that the moment the words left your mouth, he would immediately agree without even considering the longevity of it.

"a month? that's not that bad. if my baby wants to do it, then what reason do I have to say no?" he chirped, the brightest and happiest smile on his face. initially, you were ready to remind him that a month was in fact 30 days and that he could barely survive 15 minutes without trying to put his dick in your mouth because he "couldn't hold it anymore". but then you quickly remembered that the man is a simp, and you should have known that the moment you expressed your want for something, there was no way he could deny you.

despite that, you both joined the challenge on the first day of november, hoping that the three rounds you had last night would be enough to hold you both over for the next 30 days.

the next morning you woke up with a small moan, eyes finally peeling themselves open enough to see the sun shining through your window, alerting you to finally wake up and drag yourself out of bed. you reached behind you as you did every morning, feeling the strands of kazutora's hair draping over his face. had he not hummed pleasantly at the feeling of your fingers in his hair, you would have assumed that the man was still sleeping, his arm wrapped around your waist tightening its grip.

"good morning kazu," you spoke softly, voice still a bit raspy from sleep. he responded with a couple taps on your tummy, something he always did when he was too sleepy to actually give a verbal response. you smiled softly, shuffling more under the covers as you cuddled against his chest. you shut your eyes again, letting yourself revel in a few more minutes of sleep before deciding to get ready for the day ahead of you. you lay in silence for all of 10 minutes before you felt a rough hand caressing your stomach again, the light touch making you jerk a bit as you held in a laugh. when he did it again you giggled, jerking your hips back as you ran away from his touch. "baby, that tickles."

"sorry..." he grumbled, voice rumbling so deep that you nearly felt it in your own chest. he moved his hand from your stomach and chose instead to run it down the length of your leg, stopping momentarily to grab the underside of your knee. "you're just so soft..."

when his sentence had finished your leg was being lifted, kazutora resting the limb on his own, which he'd so precariously placed between yours. you didn't think much of it until the skin of kazutora's thigh was being pushed into your mound, a heavy gasp escaping you as the pressure made your stomach turn.

"so soft," he said again, this time crystal clear as his hand continued to trace every inch of exposed skin on your body. you only truly reacted when his hand slipped into your shirt, trapping one of your breasts between his fingers. he fondled the mass, relishing in the way your body reacted to his ministrations. your hips ground against his thigh, the heat in your stomach spreading as the man pinched your nipple softly. "and pliant."

"kazu..." you warned, although it sounded more like a plea for more in his ears than anything else. "we can't."

the man behind you whined, only playing with your tits more feverously at your rejection. "why? don't we always have sex in the morning?"

his voice sounded borderline distraught as you tried to remove his hand from your shirt.

"we're doing the challenge, remember? we've barely even made it 12 hours," your words made the man pout. he knew that he agreed to the challenge rather quickly, but you wouldn't actually deny him like this, would you?

"but i want you..." he pouted, sleepy hands moving once again to roam around your body. he didn't miss the way your hips never stopped grinding against his thigh, his free hand that wasn't playing in your hair moving towards his own mouth to wet his fingers before slipping them into your night shorts. a quiet moan came out of your mouth as his fingers flicked at your clit, your hand that was playing in his hair pulling at the strands harshly. "don't you want me too, baby?"

you did. you truly did want the man and honestly, with your current conditions, you didn't think that it would be that bad of an idea. you'd barely even started this challenge, so how hard would it be to just say you never even attempted at all? maybe if you just let it go this one time...

your thoughts were cut short by the feeling of kazutora's fingers sliding into your cunt, knocking the air out of you as you felt the digits curl, pressing directly into your g-spot. a curse passed your lips and it was only a moment later that you felt kazutora press against the side of your face, forcing you to look directly at him. "all you have to do is say the word. you know I can't say no to you," he purred. his bright eyes caught your attention immediately, and it was then that you knew you could never say no to him, either.

"please, kazu," you didn't hesitate before asking him, the challenge be damned. you didn't fight him as he leaned in, pressing his lips onto yours softly, a small moan slipping from the man's mouth to your own.

"more, baby!" kazutora groaned as spent no time stuffing you full of his cock the moment you asked, although you were sure it was more for him than you. your breathing was labored as you tried to find something to steady yourself, your hoisted leg and kazu's rapid thrusts almost forcing you off of the bed. you were still propped on your side, your boyfriend being more than too lazy to change positions. "fuck, keep fucking me like that."

you didn't have the time or energy to explain to him that he was the one fucking you, but let the man run his mouth regardless. this was something that you were used to already, his cries and pleas for you to do more when he was the one effectively leaving you brain dead. your hands found purchase in the sheets, holding onto them for dear life while kazutora pressed his body against yours, the warmth only inspiring the man to go harder.

"s-slow down baby..." you pleaded, feeling your body jerk with every stroke of his cock against your g-spot, your wet cunt squeezing around him so beautifully. "you're gonna...b-break me like t-this."

"let me," he demanded, holding your body still as he fucked you mercilessly. "wanna see you completely broken for me."

his words left a lingering pulse in your heat, giving way to kazutora's begging and allowing him to fuck you the way that he wanted. at your compliance the man cursed to himself, burying his head in the crook of your neck. you cried out when you felt his teeth sinking into the skin connecting your collarbone to your shoulder, sucking on the area until there was a purple mark flourishing on the surface.

if he wanted you broken, he certainly was accomplishing his mission. you could barely breathe with the way he was fucking you, your stomach clenching and cunt pulsing as you felt your orgasm coming strong.

"fuck, i wanna come inside you. let me come inside you baby?" the man asked, hand grabbing the underside of your leg and holding it upright as it started to slip. when you wordlessly nodded your head, kazutora let out a deafening groan. "thankyouthankyouthankyou-"

you barely had a second to register his gratitude before your eyes were shooting open, wide and blurry as kazu forced himself as far as he could go inside of you. the warmth that followed was enough for your body to shudder, orgasm washing over you as you only saw a white cover of bliss envelope your vision.

kazutora didn't even bother pulling out as he finally released your leg, legging your body go completely limp against the sheets. your breathing was labored and heavy, barely able to speak as you turned your head to look at the man behind you.

"do you feel bet-" you didn't even get the chance to finish your sentence as you saw kazutora with his eyes closed, chest rising and falling in an even rhythm. you couldn't stop the scoff that escaped you, a loving smile adorning your face before you laid back down and covered your exposed body with the duvet.

you were so grateful that you never accepted that bet from baji.

dont plagarize! it's not nice <3

#blues asks 💎#blues anons 💙#tokyo revengers smut #no nut november challenge!#tokyo rev smut #tokyo rev x you #kazutora smut #kazutora hanemiya smut #kazutora x reader #tr kazutora #tr smut #tr kazutora smut

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exhaustedpirate · 11 days ago

Text

with a little help from your (best) friend

my first 911 fic, pls be gentle with me! and it's unbeta'd so extra gentle, i'm sensitive! i wanted to fix the breakup and fix whatever the fuck eddie (and the others lbfr) was doing as buck's friend post-breakup, so enjoy!

rating: G wordcount: 1966 also on AO3

summary: “Why aren’t you wearing pants?”

(or, what happened after buck and eddie sat down the couch)

Buck knocked at Eddie’s door almost an hour ago.

They sat down on the couch, silently sipping their beers and staring at the unlit fireplace. Buck and Eddie have been friends for almost 8 years, they know how to exist in silence.

Buck is just not known for being silent. And yet, there he is, sipping his beer with a far away look while a dark cloud hovers over his head, raining and thundering away at every passing second. Eddie is content to revel in the silence, to appreciate the lightness he hasn’t felt in months, ever since Christopher left.

Maybe there’s something to be said about taking care of your mental health.

A sharp crack of lightning cracks over his head, bringing him out of his own introspection. He turns to Buck and takes the time to look at him. His best friend’s eyes are red-rimmed and sunken, his hair is a mess and he doesn’t even seem to be enjoying his beer.

“Buck,” Eddie calls quietly and the only reason he knows he was heard is because of the small twitch of Buck’s head. “Are you okay?”

He watches as Buck takes a sip from his beer and then holds the bottle in his hands, elbows at his knees. His thumb rubs against the labels and his eyes trace the movement. Buck’s mouth opens and closes, before he inhales a sharp breath and straightens his back to look at Eddie.

“Why aren’t you wearing pants?”

Buck asks such an unexpected question that it sparks a malfunction in Eddie’s brain. He can only exhale a chuckle, his eyes going down to his bare legs and putting the dark cloud in his rearview mirror.

“And where’s your mustache?” Buck continues and the smile on his face looks wrong. “I was just getting used to it.”

Eddie laughs. “I got propositioned by a priest.”

“What?” Buck looks at him and it is almost like it lights up his face, like the cloud was never there but there’s still a darkness under his eyes and the evidence of a frown in his brow.

“Well, he wasn’t hitting on me, actually,” Eddie runs his hand through his hair, self-consciously. “But uhm, I went to confession a couple of days ago and I ran into the priest at the juice bar and we talked and he, well, he made me realise that I was punishing myself and not allowing myself joy so I, well…” He gestures down at his body and living room.

“You took off your pants and blasted some music?”

Eddie looks down at his beer, an embarrassed blush creeping onto his cheeks. “When I was a kid I watched this movie with Tom Cruise, in it he dances in his living room without pants and I always wanted to do that.”

“Risky Business.”

“Y-Yeah,” Eddie turns to Buck, surprised at him knowing an older movie. “You watched it?”

Something flickers through Buck’s eyes, something like fondness replaced by pain and longing. He nods once he has hidden away all those big emotions behind his walls. “And the mustache?”

“Ah, the mustache was a mask,” Eddie presses his lips together, fingers rubbing against his bare upper lip. “To hide the fact that I’m a failure.”

Buck’s face softens and he puts a hand on Eddie’s wrist. “Eds, you aren’t a failure.”

“I am, Buck,” Eddie nods but smiles softly. “But it’s okay because I am going to try and be better, I need to try and be better. For me and for my son.”

Buck looks searchingly at him for a few seconds more before he nods. “For the record, you look better without the mustache.”

Eddie laughs but quiets slowly when all he gets from Buck is a small smile. He looks over his best friend again, notices him anew. Notices his slumped shoulders, his restless hands, his watery eyes. He places his hand on Buck’s shoulder and watches as his friend takes a stuttering deep breath.

“Are you okay, Buck?”

His best friend takes another shaky breath and Eddie can tell he’s trying to hide away, but as the exhale shakes out, his eyes get wetter and he’s shaking his head quickly. “No.”

Eddie watches as Buck covers his eyes with one hand and breaks down, sobs wracking through his body, quiet but strong. Quickly, Eddie puts their beers on the coffee table and pulls Buck to him, one hand running up and down his back and the other cradled at the back of his head as he lets Buck cry on his shoulder.

It’s not the first time his best friend has been in this position and Eddie’s been in it a few times before. They trust each other. Eddie can’t help but wonder what would have happened if he hadn’t asked, if he hadn’t noticed. If he had let himself get so focused on his own issues that he wouldn’t see Buck’s cry for help.

It had happened before.

Buck’s sobs slow down to a quiet hiccuping but Eddie doesn’t break the hug, keeps running his hand up and down Buck’s spine with a little more pressure than before, trying to provide comfort.

“He broke up with me.” Buck’s voice is hoarse and it's barely above a whisper but Eddie hears it all the same.

“What?”

“I-I asked him to move in and he broke up with me.”

Eddie takes hold of Buck’s face and pulls him away from his shoulder. He pays no mind to the less than put together state of his best friend’s face as he wipes away his tears.

“I need you to breathe, Buck,” Eddie’s tone is strong, maybe a bit demanding, and he keeps Buck’s gaze as the man does as he is told. One raspy breath, two, three. “Tell me what happened.”

Buck looks away for a moment, his eyes glazing over for a second before he takes another deep breath, and then another. Eddie stops himself from telling him how proud he is of him for that. Buck leans back against the couch, hands spread over his thighs slowly running up and down his jeans.

So Eddie listens as Buck tells him about their anniversary dinner and the surprising connection between Tommy and Abby, who Eddie had only heard stories about until the trainwreck. Tells him about the conversation with Josh. Tells him about their talk at the loft, how he asked Tommy to move in with him but he got dumped instead. By the end, Buck’s breathing is irregular and his knuckles are white from where his fists clenched on his thighs.

“Buck,” Eddie calls after a minute, a minute where he lets him get his breathing under control. Buck turns to him and Eddie almost gasps at the pain in there, it’s been a while since he’s seen it in his best friend’s eyes. “Do you love him?”

Eddie doesn’t want to admit that he expects a more truthful answer than he gave Josh, even with Maddie in the room. It’s a big question. But Eddie knows Buck, probably better than he knows himself. They trust each other.

So he expects the way Buck opens and closes his mouth as he tries to find the words, and then the way he looks away, the way he runs his fingers through his hair and pulls. And then, Eddie expects the answer - maybe not the words but he knows he’ll get the truth.

“I think I was starting to.”

“Did you tell him that?”

Buck turns sharply to him. “I mean, no, b-but I think I made it clear, Eddie, come on. He’s the one wh-who dumped me and I’m the one getting t-“

“Oh, he’s being stupid,” Eddie interrupts, almost amused. “He got scared and made a rash decision but,” he continues, holding up a finger to quiet Buck. “What I think Josh meant is that Tommy had to go through it on his own and did things that he isn’t proud of. He wanted you to know that Tommy isn’t perfect but doesn’t deserve judgement.”

“I never needed him to be perfect!” Buck snaps, getting up from the couch and pacing back and forth in the living room. It was almost a dance, really, a way to release emotions. Uh. “I just wanted him, he makes me feel good and happy and I think I made him feel that way too but h-he just left, Eddie! He left me there!”

“Do you want him back?”

“Of course I do,” Buck sighs and his fingers end up in his hair again, the other hand on his hip. “But he hurt me.”

“I’ve hurt you before too,” Eddie doesn’t let Buck’s frown stop him. “You were going through something when you hurt your leg and I was going through something too but I shouldn’t have snapped at you the way I did. We love each other and we fought for our friendship, right?”

Buck presses his lips together but nods.

“Tommy loves you too,” Eddie smiles indulgently at the way Buck’s eyes widen. “Anyone can see it, Buck. So why not fight for what you want?”

Buck looks like he’s chewing the words in his brain, a multitude of possibilities and arguments running around in there. Eddie grins proudly when the tension in his friends shoulders eases and his eyes fill with determination.

“Thanks, Eddie.”

“Come here.” Eddie calls as he stands to pull Buck into a tight hug, feeling the lack of tension he felt earlier.

“Eddie,” Buck whispers as he holds him tight and Eddie hums to acknowledge it. “Please, talk to someone about what you’re going through.”

Eddie chuckles surprised but nods, pulling away to look at Buck’s face. “I will do.”

“Doesn’t have to be a therapist but you really should talk to someone.”

Eddie smiles wider and pulls Buck in again. “I promise, I will.”

“Good,” Buck’s tension eases a little bit more and Eddie warms at his friend’s care. “Eddie?”

“Yeah, bud?”

“Put some pants on.”

They let go of each other with a quiet laugh and it feels good to see Buck’s actual laugh. His best friend takes a deep breath and nods at himself. No matter what happens, he’s happy to see Buck fighting for what he wants and knowing that he has his family to fall back on.

Maybe Eddie should reach out to Tommy after this. He’s his friend too.

“Tell me how it goes.”

Buck nods again. “Thank you, Eddie, really.”

“Anytime,” Eddie taps Buck’s shoulder before pointing a finger at Buck’s face, a clear recreation of a previous talk. “Go talk to Tommy.”

Buck smiles at the reminder and takes another steadying breath. Eddie feels that pride again. His best friend taps him on the arm before he heads to the door.

When Buck opens the door, he inhales sharply. Eddie steps to the side to see an equally disheveled Tommy on the other side, fist poised to knock.

“Evan?”

“Tommy?”

Eddie grins and joins them at the door, hands on each of their shoulders. “Look at that, an early Christmas miracle,” they both turn to him with overwhelmed wide eyes. “I’m gonna put on some pants, you two can take my couch,” he points his fingers at each of them. “Talk.”

As the door shuts behind Tommy and he hears them shuffling quietly to the couch, Eddie thinks that if those two idiots are willing to fight for each other, then Eddie can find the strength to fight for his own happiness too. Buck has proved that all he needs is some support from his friends.

And he has more support now than he ever had before. He’s sure it’s faster to take a helicopter to El Paso and well, Tommy owes him.

#911 fic #carolina writes #bucktommy breakup fix it #eddie diaz is a great friend #eddie diaz #evan buckley #tommy kinard #bucktommy #bucktommy fic

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paperyowl · 17 days ago

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Another WIP, because I have time to go through all of them right now. Rockon, slightly connected to my "Not a Rookie Mistake"-verse.

---

Rocker introduced his wife to Deacon on a Wednesday afternoon.

It had been a relatively quiet week, and Mumford had finally sent his team home for some much-deserved days off. It wasn't unusual for guests to linger in the entrance area under the general supervision of one or two security officers, especially around shift change.

Deacon knew most of the faces of his team members' partners by then. And usually the respective spouses of the B-team as well. But there was one woman that he had never seen before. She wore simple jeans and a crisp blouse and her hair was pulled back in a neat ponytail. There was a quiet confidence about her, a subtle strength in the way she held herself. She was definitely attractive.

Deacon watched as her face morphed into a smile as she spotted whoever she was waiting for - and almost choked on the water he'd just been about to drink when he saw that it was Rocker who kissed her in greeting.

"Woah there, Deac," Luca called out. "You doing okay?"

Deacon coughed, then laughed. "Just went down the wrong pipe."

He didn't know what else to say, how else to cover up that wicked lick of jealousy that had just tightened his throat. And hold up, where had that even come from - he had no business being jealous, he was not jealous.

It was a good thing that Deacon could make himself fall in step with Luca almost blindly these days, following the rest of his squad while they were getting ready to head out.

Deacon just barely managed to keep his polite, neutral face firm when they reached the couple. When had this happened?

"Don't tell me she's here for you, Rocker," Luca teased, and Rocker scoffed good-naturedly. He certainly couldn't complain about any teasing while he used every chance to rib them himself. Deacon knew that Rocker revelled in their little rivalry - the number of betting pools the man ran was a bit concerning these days.

"Don't mind them," Rocker told the woman by his side. "Rowdy bunch the lot of them."

"Makes you fit right in, doesn't it?" The woman said, and earned herself a bout of laughter from the group. Rocker put a dramatic hand to his chest, but the woman smacked his hand lightly against his shoulder.

"Everyone, this is Valerie," Rocker said. "My wife."

And somehow, that was worse than Rocker kissing her. Something very ugly reared its head, an emotion that made Deacon's gut clench. He told himself very firmly to let it go.

Somehow, Deacon joined the rest of his team in polite greetings. He didn't know how he hadn't realized Rocker was dating someone. Let alone him having a wife.

It wasn't his place. But Deacon was feeling way too many things to even focus on one of them for long enough to tell himself to cut it out.

The next morning, Deacon walked into the office kitchen, and of everyone who could have decided to arrive early that day, he found Rocker there. Luck was definitely not on Deacon's side that day.

"Good morning," Rocker said when Deacon hesitated for a beat. He echoed the greeting, then went about making breakfast without further acknowledging Rocker.

He knew that he wouldn't get away with it - but Deacon didn't even know what he could say about this. 'I didn't know you're married?' Yeah, it wasn't really Deacon's place. 'I'm sorry, but I'm jealous of your gorgeous wife'. Also, not great.

Rocker sighed when Deacon's silence continued.

"Do we have to talk about this?"

"What's there to talk about?" Deacon deflected rather badly if he was being honest.

"We've been married six months," Rocker told him. It was new. But not that new - and Deacon had never even picked up on it. But that wasn't exactly a surprise. He tried not to look at Rocker too closely, not to interact beyond friendly jabs.

(Because he'd wanted Rocker back on that day in the bar, but Deacon was trying hard not to look at the fact that this want had never entirely gone away. If anything, it had gotten worse over the years, worse with starting to know this man.)

"I thought you," Deacon started and then stopped.

"I'm bi," Rocker told him. "Always have been."

There was another silence. Rocker cleared his throat.

"Well. Good talk. We're good?"

"Of course," Deacon said.

"Right," Rocker muttered, sounding exhausted for some reason.

#rockon #donovan rocker #deacon kay #fanfic #ficlet #swat cbs

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frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe · 2 years ago

Text

Okay this idea has been rotting my brain all night and i need to get it out; i may turn this into a full fic (there’s so much more to eddie and how he died), but here’s some paranormal romance steddie! (with a nod to the @azrielgreen -verse at the end 😉)

edit: i've started posting the full fic! on tumblr | on AO3

—

imagine ghost!eddie haunting the estate that was built overtop where his trailer had been

ghost!eddie becoming corporeal(ish) every halloween, letting his rage fuel the poltergeist rumors at the old estate.

the forest hills estate sits empty since being completed, until Steve Harrington moves in from Indianapolis.

Steve Harrington who uses the inheritance from his grandfather to fix up the old place, not knowing the rumors, the stories, that have been floating around the last nearly 40 years.

Steve, who ends up learning about them from a pack of young teens riding by the front gate on their bikes.

“You know that place is haunted as fuck, right?” says the red head.

“Language!” he scowls at her, only to get an eye roll from her and the gangly, greasy looking one. “And no, I didn’t know that. Is that why all my cabinets are open every morning when I wake up?” he asks. And they really had been, he kinda figured that there was something going on in that house but hadn’t felt threatened by whatever presence was there.

He relishes in their spooked faces.

“A girl died there and her boyfriend killed the guy who did it soon after.” the one with the high top fade said earnestly.

“Allegedly, Lucas! Allegedly!” this time it’s the one with the curly hair and cap. “He always thought it was him but there was literally a letter.”

“He could’ve faked it, Dustin!” the gangly one snarks at his friend.

“It’s not likely, handwriting forensics concluded it to be her handwriting.” oof, this kid desperately needs a haircut.

“POINT IS.” the red head yells over the boys. It must’ve been a regular occurrence though, as they all fall silent (or silent enough while still bickering). She turns back to an amused Steve, “He likes metal music. If you play it, I’m sure he’ll leave your cabinets alone.”

“He who? The ghost?”

She nods, “Yep!”

So he does, picks up some retro vinyl to play (along with playing some tracks from his phone over his speaker while he works on the house), figuring if the guy died in the 80s, he’d probably like the sound of them better.

He plays the music, finds he likes some of it, talks to this mystery ghost as he goes about the house finishing projects. Throws some classic rock on sometimes too, saying “Hey ghost man, I’m sorry but I can’t listen to this much metal at a time. Hope Zepplin is okay.”

ghost!eddie who will always use some of his ghostly persuasion over things to spin the vinyl backwards on the turntable during ‘Stairway to Heaven’.

Steve, who does some research and learns about his supposed ghost, yells in greeting as soon as he’s back from the library, “Hi, Eddie!! I’m home!” reveling in the swirls of cold air that spin around him in response along with just a ghost (hah) of a whispered “Hi, Stevie..” in his ear.

Steve and Eddie, who get closer and closer over the months, learning anything and everything about one another. Steve goes through a lot of paper in the first couple weeks, asking a question and waiting for the paper with ‘Yes�� or ‘No’ written on it to flutter in an unseen breeze. Which paper scribbled with a different color marker to fly up into his lap (Eddie’s favorite color is blue, Steve tells him his is yellow).

Steve, beginning to see the shadow of another person in the corner of his eye more often the not as the summer winds into fall and the repairs he needed done are wrapping up.

By September there’s no denying the figure he sees reaching a hand out to flick up the answer to a question, or the laughter he hears coming from it after a particularly bad joke.

The shadow is Eddie; and Steve is starting to make out details about his ghost.

The long fluffy hair, the slim waist, the dark eyes that pierce through shadow against the slowly brightening skin beneath.

Eddie, who realizes Steve must be able to see him and starts staying away more often then not, afraid of what he’d see in that beautiful face when he’s finally his old boring self again. Can’t bear to see that disappointment on the face of this man he’s come to care so much for (read: fully crushing on).

He retreats fully by mid September, sticking to the far less quantifiable shadows in the house and between the walls.

Steve still tries, bless him. Leaves questions all over the place, hoping to see them answered. Eddie does, every night, wanting Steve to know he’s still here.

A week later, “Eddie, I know you can hear me, can you make sure to answer this one as soon as you can? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, but I figured we maybe show off our house—the house—now that everything’s done.”

‘Our house!! He said our house!!!’

Eddie looks at what his Steve left on the new kitchen counter that night.

“Halloween Party?” is scrawled on an open page of their now worn notebook.

Something hot floods his chest at that. Steve wanting to make sure he’s okay with that many people being here at once. Eddie knows damn well what the feeling is and he’s not about to waste his corporeal time this year, he’s going to do something with it besides wreaking havoc (on the house at least).

Halloween arrives, and many in the small town want a glimpse into the old estate. There are people everywhere, costumes and all.

Steve’s proud of all the hard work he’s done to the place but he still misses Eddie. Wishes he could be here to see what had become of the place he’d hated for so long. See it for real.

Halfway through the night is when it happens.

The party is in full swing, his ballroom full of people and music and food. His playlist changes over to Bowie.

Steve smiles to himself at the memory the song pulls forward. Still soon after learning about Eddie and staring their questions and answers thing, Steve had put on Labyrinth, laughing at how frantically the “i LOVED it!” paper had swirled around in the air after asking Eddie’s opinion.

A new face he hadn’t seen in the crowd before catches his eye. This man coming down the staircase is striking. Long, dark, curly hair is pulled back in a low ponytail, lean legs in off white pants, sparkling dark blue jacket, slim waist… He’s so gorgeous, so ethereal, he can’t be real.

Okay, nope, everyone else in the room is parting for this man. So, definitely real.

Steve stands as the man approaches, a hand extended. Keeping their eyes locked on each other, the man leads Steve by the hand to the center of the room.

The man smirks at Steve, still stunned, and arranges their arms. Then they’re dancing, swirling around the space the crowd created for them.

Steve feels like he’s floating.

He’s dancing to As The World Falls Down with a breathtaking man he now realizes is definitely dressed as the Jareth to his Sarah.

Steve finally finds his voice, “Hi..” It’s barely a whisper.

The man smirks, scoffs a laugh, but whispers back: “Hi Stevie.”

Steve’s brain screeches to a halt, and the man’s eyes sparkle with mischief (and a little bit of apprehension).

He can’t compute the information right away, frantically scrambling for a logical explanation. Some way for someone to know about Eddie enough to imitate him, to know about ‘Stevie’..but comes up with nothing. Nada. Zip. Zilch.

“Eddie…is that really you?”

“Yeah, sweetheart, it’s really me.”

Eddie brings their foreheads together and they sway to the rest of the song, Eddie softly singing along.

The song ends and Steve pulls Eddie through the crowd and out into the garden.

His mind is still swirling, so he clings onto Eddie’s arms just as much as Eddie clings to his.

“Eddie—“

“Wait, Steve, let me..” Eddie clears his throat and explains everything. How he died, how long he spent his one night of reality trying to keep people away from where he and his best friend had died. “I don’t want to waste tonight, but I’m afraid if I—if I tell you how I feel about you…I will be complete. Done with my unfinished business and all that.”

“How do you know?”

Eddie chuckles. “The Moon.”

Steve now fully, painfully aware of how little remains of the night, how little time he may have with Eddie altogether, decides he doesn’t have time to unpack that. So he says “Kiss me. Eddie, please, kiss m—“

Eddie does, and the Moon smiles down on her beloveds.

#can you tell that my first ghost love was casper #steddie #st flclet #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #paranormal #ghost!eddie #casper!eddie #paranormal romance #modern au #noelle writes

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hanasnx · 9 months ago

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so i imagine that toji and you have been on-again-off-again for a couple years now, like every time you break up, your dads all like 'yeah right, i give it a week.' but this time its for real, say its been like two months and to prove to your family that you're over him, you invite your new man to your dads bday party at your parents house.

you get there and are obviously pissed. of course your dad invited toji and didn't tell you, he didn't believe you were broken up. but what's worse is your new man ain't answering his phone, so you cant even lie to him and tell him the party is cancelled. so he shows up, and its awkward as hell, and he doesn't understand why until you finally introduced everyone except toji. i can see his cocky ass strolling up to the poor guy, smirking with his shady eyes, shaking his hand firmly and introducing himself as your ex boyfriend.

or would he just say hes a friend of your fathers? play along, and befriend the guy before you or maybe one of your nicer cousins pull the poor guy aside and fill him in? all the while, you're staring daggers at your father, while he's shrugging at you like he isn't at fault for this.

idk, i just love the potential for angst and tension here with this scenario. i fucking live for it bro. like your new man seeing a photo of you and toji on the wall, didn't you ask your dad to take that down last time you were here? or how toji's hand lingers on yours a little to long as he passes you your slice of birthday cake. or how friendly all of your family seems to be with him. he fits right in.

but the best part-later that night, after your new man's ego has been beaten down beyond repair, and him and most of your family has left, Toji lingers (because your father made it clear he's always welcome), and he ends up fucking you in the spare room that used to be your bedroom, or maybe in the back of his car parked out front, or in the kitchen while your parents are sleeping, all the while whispering and teasing you about how cute it was for you to think you could ever move on from him.

i could even see him texting your new man from your phone while he’s doing it, saying something cheeky or even breaking up with him for you. but you'd be too preoccupied to notice or care, obviously, reveling in how good it feels to be filled up by him again, because of course toji’s dick is bigger than what you’ve been getting. but not just his size, he knows all your sweet spots and remembers exactly how you like it, how could he forget? and by the time he’s done with you, he’s already convinced you to get back together.

his dick game is just that good you cannot convince me otherwise.

— source.

me rn bcos i got to feel like the reader and was biting the fuck outta my finger flirting with the screen

i absolutely love the on-and-off-again trope. your dad probably thought you two were gonna get married bcos of how attached-at-the-hip you were for a while. like angelina jolie and billy bob thornton. crazy in love, cant keep hands off each other, making long-term plans, toji probably asked for his fucking blessing at some point

and just like that, it ended. totally blindsided the whole family, constantly asking you about "wheres your man? huh? where's he at?" until you had to solemnly explain you weren't together anymore. all your little siblings and cousins, nieces and nephews, all are devastated because uncle toji isn't around anymore and they loved him so so much. that was the first time you and him broke up, and he was already so ingrained in the family that it shook through them all when suddenly he wasn't around anymore, everybody loved him. especially your dad who's tough and just, and never liked anybody, especially any of your boyfriends. he's expressed that toji was good enough to take care of his little girl, that he could trust you were in good hands when toji was around. you were safe, protected. (your new boyfriend cant compare in your father's eyes. he's a pansy compared to toji, which you always distressfully protest to because that's not a real criticism and your dad is just playing favorites.)

but then the family sees you two get back together, you and toji are back and better than ever. everybody's ecstatic to see him: your sisters and aunts dote on him, ask him to carry heavy things just to talk about how handsome he is when his muscles bulge like that; your uncles and brothers talk man-to-man with him, show him their cars and share their beers and ask him if he wants to watch the game. toji, quite the charmer, insists he's gonna spend time with his girl, and stays with you in the kitchen while you hang with your mom. oh, your mom loves toji. talks about what a spitting image he is of the husband shes always wanted you to have. she makes him lean down so far when she wants to give him a goodbye kiss on the cheek at the end of the evening, she lists out the stuff she wants done around the house and toji does them. even tho its supposed to be a party.

fast forward to your dad's bday, and nobody believes you that you and him are done "for good this time" because they've heard about almost every break-up and reunion. they're so convinced that you and him are meant to be, you're just being stubborn.

toji swaggering up to your poor new man to introduce himself so gruffly with his deep voice and callused hand shaking his, saying so shamelessly he's your ex boyfriend. that's crazy big dick energy. it implies so much, loaded asf, bcos you're sighing and hanging your head into your hand because toji just had to go and do something like that.

the photo!! the fucking photo on the wall!! your new bf sees it before you can hastily pull it down off its fucking nail bcos you totally did ask them to take that down! and its such a good picture too. you and toji tangled so close together. he's in leather jacket, cheek-to-cheek with you, arms around you while your leg is up around him. you look good together.

i think he'd play a bit of a hard-to-get thing with you, coyly asking you about your boyfriend, where'd you meet, etc. you know him too well to think he's being genuine, and he hits you that he thinks its "cute"

you have to leave because there's no way you're gonna talk about this shit with him, having an argument in the driveway between your cars because you cant keep your voice down when you're with him. you're berating him for showing his face here even if he was invited, and he's telling you its not his fault your father loves him so much. fighting like an old married couple when he tells you he wants you back and he doesn't give a fuck who that skeevy guy was that came earlier. he tells you that he knows you want a real man when you left him because of how pigheaded and brutish he is. pandering to your family so you'll never be rid of him is exactly the kind of manipulation you wanted to get away from, and he defends it as some sort of strategy of playing the long game for the finger he wants to put a ring on. and its like you've done this game before, you're tired. one thing you're not tired of, is how remarkably agreeable the two of you are while you're fucking. so you settle the argument with your bodies <3

#indy shoots the shit #thanks for the msg!!#purple-obsidian #ch: toji #toji fushiguro prompt #indy: headcanons #toji fushiguro headcanons

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viperwhispered · 8 months ago

Note

I just wanna take a moment to say thank you for always being around to chat since I don't have many to talk to about TWST. I also suck at characterization so I don't write many fics. But I was very happy when you used one of our discussions for Revel in You. I don't mind if you use our convos to write, just be sure to credit the source.

On that note: saw your smut posts. Here's an idea: Jamil celebrating his promotion to being a Housewarden.

It's Friday, there's an enormous party going on to celebrate Jamil and Kalim's new roles and the successes of the first month with this new dynamic. While Jamil is more accustomed to the spotlight, he still gets "tired out" and leaves it to Kalim to keep the party going and organize the clean up crew. After all, he's due for a more private celebration of his own.

Fun fact: for a good chunk of snake species, the male will bite the females neck to hold them down while mating.

Imagine Jamil relentlessly taking his beloved from behind, deciding they're wriggling a bit too much. Delighting in the sounds they make as he pulls them towards him by the hair, he just bites the back of their neck as his body pins them to the bed. They'll probably be annoyed by morning, but Jamil's already got some concealers beforehand.

Did I forget to mention it's a Friday, Jamil no longer has roomates, and pretty much the entire dorm is still partying to loud music several hallways away?

Also worth mentioning that, as a healthy mature couple, all of Jamil's jealousy and possessiveness is addressed in a healthy manner so the relationship never turns toxic. This statement does not apply to the bedroom.

Aww thank you, always happy to talk with you too 😊 Plus like, if you’d rather talk over messages sometime in addition to the asks, feel free. (And this applies to anyone else reading this post too.)

Yeah iirc I was thinking a bit if I should ask you about using that ask as a jumping off point for To Revel in You, but I figured I was using it more as inspiration rather than rewriting anything you wrote or anything like that. And that since you sent that ask in the first place, I did kinda assume it would be okay to build off it. But good to hear I wasn’t wrong in thinking so, and glad you liked it.

As for characterization & writing: it really is a matter of practice, I’d say. Plus, like, everyone is bound to interpret the characters in a different way, or focus on different aspects of them. Which can be freeing, in a way, knowing that you can bring to the table something that no one else can, certainly not in the same exact way you would.

Also I was actually thinking of asking for some writing prompts since the current wip seems to need a bit more time to marinate, and here you are with perfect timing.

So let’s see what I can do with this concept.

If it wasn’t obvious: smut ahead. Written with fem / afab reader in mind but I think this could be read gender neutral as well since the only specific body detail mentioned is that reader has hair long enough for Jamil to grab.

The day - and the week, and the month - had been such a whirlwind that even Jamil had had trouble keeping up with it all.

Tonight, Jamil had basked in the praises from his dormmates, their congratulations and glowing words - and noted the cautious looks of those who still had not forgotten the events of his overblot.

He had enjoyed food that was not made by him, watched others fuss over the preparations and the serving - well, as much as he had been able to keep himself from giving direction. Still, even he had not been able to oversee every single detail, as much as he wanted to.

After all, both you and Kalim had been quite insistent, in your own ways, that this celebration should be for him, not by him.

So Jamil had danced, eaten, drank, listened, talked, so much so that now when the night was beginning to turn towards morning, he had more than had his fill.

Besides, tired as he may be of the crowd, there was still something on his agenda that he was more than happy to indulge in.

You had been teasing him with promises of a more private celebration - starting from when the party was decided on all the way to when you had been dancing together earlier - and Jamil intended to finally collect his reward.

You were outside for a moment of fresh air and quiet when Jamil found you, wrapping his arms around you from behind and nipping your ear.

“I remember someone promising to be mine tonight,” he murmured, voice low and husky.

You shivered, feeling Jamil’s lips on your neck. You’d half expected him to be too tired to turn your teasing into action. Yet, you certainly welcomed this turn of events, your own tiredness washed away by Jamil’s eager touch and his tempting whispers.

“You know me. Always love - ahhh - spoiling you,” you said - your words turning into a gasp when Jamil licked the side of your neck.

In no time at all you found yourself in Jamil’s room - as easy as it was to be distracted by each other, you both still preferred the privacy over lingering in the common areas of the dorm.

Jamil’s mouth was hungry on yours, his hands working quickly to rid you of your clothes.

Sometimes you wondered just how much Jamil was holding back in the presence of others, for him to get so ravenous as soon as you two were alone.

Not that you were any different, pulling away that long belt from Jamil’s hips so that you could slip your hands under his shirt, your lips covering every available bit of his skin with kisses.

It was always delicious, your naked bodies tangled together. That heady feeling of each other, both of you grasping and kissing wherever you could, like you could never quite feel enough of the other.

“So what would mister housewarden ask of me tonight?” you asked with a playful grin, nuzzling your nose against Jamil’s.

There was undeniable hunger in the way Jamil looked at you, yet also the warmth and softness of your lover that always filled your heart to the brim.

“Just all of you, albi,” Jamil murmured, pushing you down onto the mattress.

You’d entertained ideas of a celebratory blowjob, of taking care of Jamil tonight. But if he’d rather help himself to you, you were certainly not going to say no.

A few orgasms later and Jamil was pounding into you, firmly holding onto your hips while your face was pressed onto the sheets. His cock was invading your insides so hard, so deep, leaving you nearly senseless. You jolted helplessly every time Jamil slammed his way all the way in, the pleasure bordering on pain as it shot through your nerves.

“Ahhh, Jamil…” you whimpered, barely aware of the spot of drool you’d left on the bed.

“Too much?” Jamil muttered, one of his hands leaving your side to instead trail a soothing path along your spine.

“...No.”

It was a lot, your senses nearly overtaken by the intensity of it all - yet you didn’t want anything less.

Still, you couldn’t help squirming, your body twitching with every thrust, yelps and moans pushed from your throat no matter how much you tried to hold them in.

“Hold still,” Jamil grunted.

He gathered your hair in his hand, making you gasp when he tugged. You could feel the pull on your scalp, almost like Jamil wanted to rein you in - or pull your face away from the sheets so that he could hear your cries more clearly.

“You’re all mine tonight, aren’t you? Mine to have, mine to enjoy,” Jamil breathed to your ear.

“Yes, yes, yes…” you whined, aroused beyond belief.

Always his, just as he is yours - but you had no time to vocalize that thought before Jamil’s weight pushed you prone on the bed.

Your gasp was cut short, turned into a sharp cry when you felt moist pressure at the back of your neck - a bite, you realized, some instinct telling you to keep still.

Not that you had much of a choice in the matter. Jamil’s hand, still gripping your hair. His mouth, latched onto your skin. His body, holding you down.

The weight of him against your back was almost suffocating, yet in a delicious way. Like you could be closer to him like this, more connected than just skin to skin contact - or penetration - could provide.

You could feel the rolling of Jamil’s hips against your backside, the way his cock was dragging along your insides. Not as harshly as before, yet intense enough to keep you trembling and whining with the little breath you could take.

And Jamil’s mouth, his teeth, never letting go. His muffled groans such a delicious sound, making you clench around him.

Such sweet torture, and you never wanted it to end.

Taglist since this turned into fic: @colliope @crystallizsch @diodellet @jamilsimpno69 @jamilvapologist @perilous-pasta @twstgo @cannedpickledpeaches

#twisted wonderland #jamil viper #twisted wonderland x reader #jamil viper x reader #ner talks #ner writes #chatting with folks #lex752 #embarrassingly enough I still haven’t read Jamil’s bday vignettes and they probably would’ve been useful for the early parts here #but oh well it is what it is #for some reason I’m just so used to writing smut in present tense (especially if it’s second person)#so I really kept on going back and forth with the tenses while writing #hopefully I caught all of those and got my tenses in line #but if you see something silly feel free to let me know #banged this out kinda quick as a little intermission treat #honestly just the kind of writing I was craving for for today so ty again for this ask lex!

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