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gor3-hound · 8 months

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paint the town red

ft. pyramid head x fem!reader

cw: 18+ content, dead dove, snuff(i think it counts for written work idk), big size difference, stalking, murder, physical injury, heavy non-con, gore, blood, violence, p in v, monster fucking

a/n: i'm so nervous to post this idek why 😭😭 um it's very dd:dne so proceed with caution! i lost followers after the cannibalism fic lets see if it happens again lmao

word count: 1k words

You've been running for so long that your lungs burn. In the distance, the loud screeching of the metal of that creature’s weapon grating along the concrete is the only thing letting you know he’s still hot on your tail. There's a heavy thumping of footfalls as he follows you, seemingly aware of every move you make. No matter how fast you run, he always seems to be close by, never faltering in his chase.

The fog is endless. The air is thick and starved of oxygen, making it harder to breathe and worsening your fatigue as you try to escape. You should be thankful for the creature's noise, as you can barely see two feet in front of you. You'd been drawn to this town, and now it would not let you go. Not until you had paid your debts - it appeared the Executioner himself would be the one to claim the price.

One wrong turn was all it took. It was so easy to get turned around in the fog, and you find yourself growing uneasy as an eerie silence settles around you. You can feel his presence, even if you can no longer hear him. There's an unmistakable terror that rises within you when he's nearby, like your subconscious can sense him even when there's no sign of him. The heavy thuds of his footsteps stop, and your steps falter as you try and figure out where to go next.

You didn't get the chance to make that decision.

You hear the familiar screech of his blade dragging along the floor right behind you, but before you can run, a strong arm settles around your waist, dragging you back against the hulking figure. He doesn't speak as he grabs hold of you, but you can hear the heavy breaths coming from underneath his large, triangular helmet.

You try your best to fight your way out. No matter what you do, he doesn't flinch. His breathing doesn't change. There's not a single sign that you're even hurting the thing. You kick back against his legs, hard enough that if he was human, his knees would give out. You claw, scratch, punch…

Nothing works.

He drops his weapon, and you don't stop panicking. He's no less intimidating without it - his hulking figure is a looming presence over you, and you're sure that he could snap every bone in your body without even trying. You scream as loud as you can, your throat turning scratchy and your ears ringing at the sound.

It doesn't matter. Nobody's coming to help you, and the creature only gets more excited by your torment. When you feel the evidence of his excitement, your blood runs cold.

You can feel his hardening cock pressing against your back, and you know any attempt to fuck you would kill you. It was long, and probably thicker than your forearm. You beg for him to let you go, plead until your voice grows weak. It just watches with sick satisfaction, waiting for the moment you give up and go limp in his arms.

In one fluid motion, he's got you pinned to the floor. His hand is harsh against the back of your head, slamming you hard enough against the ground that your nose breaks, blood pouring out steadily. You scream in agony, and the thing behind you lets out a pleased grunt, reaching under his bloodied apron to free his cock.

It ignores you as you beg for him to stop - to just kill you. His large hand rips right through your jeans and panties, leaving just enough access for him to push inside of you. It grows increasingly frustrated as any attempts at entry fail, eventually deciding to stop playing ‘nice’ and just thrusting his hips forward as hard as he can, tearing right through you.

Your throat is raw from how much you're screaming, your fingers clawing helplessly at the concrete below you. Your thighs are coated in a wet substance, which you vaguely register must be your own blood.

You're sure you're going to pass out soon. The pain has your body going numb, your body growing slack underneath him as he begins to thrust. Your mind tries to go somewhere else, but it's impossible to ignore the intrusion. Your stomach bulges grotesquely, the outline of the monster's cock visible even as he pulls back before slamming back in.

Your pulse weakens as he forces himself further inside, thrusting as deep as he can manage. You're barely conscious, bleeding and drooling all over the concrete beneath you. His thrusts falter slightly, and you feel a flicker of hope that this would all finally end.

Hope that is quickly ripped from you as soon as he grips your neck from behind, his hand squeezing your throat and cutting off all your oxygen. Good things don't survive in Silent Hill, and you should have known your brief respite wouldn't last. You raise your hands to try and pry him away from you, but it's no use. He's too strong, and you're too weak, only seconds away from passing out.

His thrusts resume, knocking you forward jnti his vice-like grip on your throat. You hadn't even had a chance to say goodbye to your family. No one would know where to look for you - you'd just become another body lost to the horrors of this town.

Your chest heaves as you struggle to take in breaths. Your body consorts unnaturally as he starts to tug you back into his thrusts, a sickening crunch echoing in the air before he drops you back to the ground, your lifeless body thudding against the concrete.

The pain finally stops, the release of death smothering you like a warm blanket. The Executioner peels away from you, your blood joining the other victims’ on his apron. His punishment has been delivered, and he returns to stalking the town of Silent Hill, his knife dragging along the floor with that sickening sound echoing through the fog.

#dead dove do not eat #dark content #pyramid head #pyramid head smut #pyramid head x reader #pyramid head x you #red pyramid thing #silent hill smut

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wordsinhaled · 2 months

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it was really only a matter of time until edwardian payneland happened and what if i channeled maurice about it. just a little

Charles is the son of the groundskeeper at St. Hilarion's School for Boys while Edwin is a pupil there. And he can't help but notice Edwin—how he’s nearly always alone, or else being harangued by the cruel older boys who call themselves his peers.

Charles privately thinks they hardly seem equal to him in poise or grace or manner. They are boisterous, brash, crass, violent, all overlaid with a veneer of false propriety, but Charles can see the cracks in it. He knows that sort by how they are inside, and they cannot be like Edwin at all. No, Edwin Paine's got a sad, drawn sort of look about him that Charles can't help recognizing. This lonely boy who feels somehow kindred in a way he can't put a finger on, but is pulled to him all the same, though by rights he'd do better to keep his distance.

Edwin often sits by the lake by himself, to read, or to do his assignments in the shade of the trees. Picturesque as a painting, he is. One day Charles dares to approach him, though he knows the risk in it—prepared to be rebuffed, rebuked for his untoward attention to someone he is meant to ignore; but the boy does not turn him away.

And so they become friends. Tentative, and then less and less so.

Together they explore the school's sprawling grounds, all of whose surprising hiding-places Charles Rowland knows by heart, having wandered them himself for years and made them his own refuge. The woods become theirs; the shore by the lake theirs; the shade of the trees theirs. The attic, where no one comes to look for them in the dead of night, also theirs.

And then one day Charles notices a group of boys surrounding Edwin. The usual cadre, and they're posturing, their voices loud in the autumn air. They’ve ripped Edwin's penny magazine from his grip and are tearing pages out of it, scattering them to be plucked up by the wind. Charles can do nothing else but step in. He shouts at them to back off, puts himself between them and Edwin, and gets himself thrashed for his trouble—but they, at least, finally leave Edwin alone.

Edwin, for his part, cannot believe Charles would be so reckless for his sake. Charles has not yet mentioned to him that he is used to this sort of treatment, and sees worse at home. They sit together in the boathouse by the lake, cross-legged, close enough for Edwin to dab carefully at Charles’ split lip and bleeding knuckles.

��You should not have done that for me,” he chides, though it carries no heat. “What will happen now?” He thinks word is sure to get back to the school, and there will be a scandal. Those boys, who so vocally despise Edwin, will hardly be quiet in their outrage, their humiliation. Charles’ father might be relieved of his post, and then Charles’ family will have to leave St. Hilarion’s. That is how these things go.

And what was it all for? For Edwin? How could it have been worth it?

“Doesn’t matter, does it?" Charles is saying, when Edwin surfaces from his troubled thoughts. "Couldn’t let them treat you like that. They had you five to one. And that, just ‘cause you’re different. I know how it is.” Charles’ eyelashes are very long, and the light turns his eyes a warm, deep amber as he talks fiercely, insistently, in defense of Edwin.

It’s terribly forward, Edwin thinks. And, despite every misgiving, he welcomes it. No one has ever fought for Edwin before. No one has ever spoken about him with such conviction.

Then Charles seems to lapse into pensiveness. “You didn’t have to…” he says softly. "All this." He gestures, with the free hand Edwin isn’t busy wrapping up, at the little bottle of antiseptic, the scissors, the roll of bandages and the cloths, all spread out on the floorboards between them.

“Of course I did,” Edwin says.

Really, he had not given it much consideration. He had had only the presence of mind to memorize the sight of Charles kneeling in the dew-damp grass, angry gaze still spitting fire at the backs of Edwin’s retreating bullies. He’d had blood in his bared teeth, and the briefest flash of desire had seared through Edwin—to kiss him. Merely in thanks, perhaps, but still, to kiss him.

He would know the warmth of Charles’ mouth. Fleeting, forbidden, it would sear itself into his mind for ever.

Of course, he had done no such thing; for he could not. Instead, he’d done the only thing he could do—bent low towards Charles, and squeezed his shoulder once, as if to say, Wait here for me. I will come back to you.

And as he'd turned on his heel and gone off in the direction of the infirmary, leaving Charles there with dusk encroaching, Edwin had hoped Charles understood his gesture for the indelible promise it was.

#dbda #dead boy detectives #dead boy detective agency #payneland #oops new 'verse just dropped i guess #i did ZERO rabbithole research for this particular bit but i fear it has consumed my brain and i may have to write more #the weirdest thing is i wrote it while listening to portugal. the man and you know what. it fucking works. it works. just trust me on this #'stop right now take a minute take your time said i'm living all alone inside a dream'#yes they are in the boathouse. yes they are in fact. what of it. yes there will be telegrams. and trysts.#that's me frothing at the mouth. give edwin his edwardian love story!!!

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lightwing-s · 10 months

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𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐃𝐔𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐑

pairing: peter pevensie x female! reader

summary: stuck with royal duties all day, peter and y/n eventually need a break to have... some adult fun.

word count: 1,5k warnings: sexual content, porn without plot, breast play, p in v.

a/n: wrote this one really quickly, surprisingly, and it's here mostly so i don't disappear again because of uni.

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! ♡

⌜masterlist⌟ ⌜requests: open⌟

The two of you had been analyzing files, signing papers, doing the heavy (boring) duties of a royal side by side for hours now. The tiredness slowly catching up, but still concentrated on the task at hand. Or so were you, not him.

With light touches, you felt Peter’s fingers brush the hair off of your face, tucking it behind your ear. “Focus on the task at hand, Peter.” you warned him kindly, knowing even your focus couldn’t last this long.

“But it is so hard,” he said, hand placed carefully around your neck, his fingers coming to play with the hairs at its nape, and his lips leaving soft kisses on your skin. “Especially when such a pretty lady is standing right next to you.”

Bobbing your head to the side instinctively, you allowed him access to more space. His lips lingered all over, teeth biting and leaving behind marks he adored to paint you with, marking you as his own. You let out a deep, long sigh, his touch enough to leave you inebriated.

His free hand fell on your lap, trying to pull your skirt up, desperate to touch the warm skin of your legs. However, a quiet screeching noise took your focus away from him. You took his hand on yours, away from your legs, and laced your fingers, moving your head to stare him deep into his eyes.

He lingered there for a while, too drunk on you to be able to react too quickly, too immersed in your eyes to pay attention to anyone else. Getting closer to you again, you felt his breath hitting your neck before giving you another bite, stronger than the ones before, full mouth meeting your skin, dragging a long, drawn out moan out of your throat.

”Close the door behind you,” he ordered, looking at the guard standing in his office, just some feet away from you, from behind your head. “And tell your comrades they don’t need to stay too close.”

Watching the guard leave from the corner of your eyes, awkwardly and in a rush, you couldn’t help the smirk from spreading on your face as you felt Peter’s tongue touch the same spot he’d bitten just before, full on making out with your neck now.

“Better?” he asked, moving your chin so you could face him again. Now you, too drunk on him, could only reply with a simple nod of your head. “Great.”

The hand that once rested on your lap, and was then tangled with yours, freed itself from your hold and pulled at your cleavage, exposing one of your breasts that was soon covered by your husband’s lips.

Peter’s tongue flickered and toyed with your hardening nipple, his mouth spreading wilder to fit almost your entire tit inside of it. He sucked on hard, deep, while his tongue still tortured your reddish, sensitive nipple.

You were sure you could’ve come just from it, but perhaps knowing you way too well, your husband stopped right before your high could’ve been reached, climbing up your chest with kisses until his lips touched yours for a long deserved, passionate kiss.

“Come here.” he demanded, breaking away from your lips and pulling at your waist. Obliging, you sat on his lap, pulling your skirt up so your wet underwear met the hard bulge tightening his pants, resting your knee on his sides as his hands slid under your dress and you started to ride him while you were both still fully clothed. “Calm down, Yn…”

He tried, but your movements didn’t stop, and you crashed your lips together to shut him up, tongues fighting in a rushed, wet, desperate battle for control, neither wanting to give in. His hands slid up your tights, nails scratching along the way, taking a hold of the hem of your underwear, a hand on each side, pulling away ripping it apart, and without wasting a single beat, he threw it away to the other side of the room.

With the speed in which the underwear was pulled from your made the soak fabric rub rashly at your clit and leave behind a painful yet arousing sensation, only turning you on even more. Now, your sticky honey left a puddle on his pants, and you could feel his thick cock way better than before, as he too was now grinding rapidly against you.

The sensation, making your head spin and your legs tremble, stopped you from noticing his hands untying his pants, pulling it down while holding you up just enough for his cock to break free, hitting against your belly as you continued to grind on his tight. You also didn’t notice him rubbing himself up and down his length, movements conveniently hidden under your skirt, as you were too involved in your little tongue dance, sucking on his and trying to assert dominance. It was out of nowhere that you felt his cock entering you without care, stretching you out, feeling like you were ripping apart just like your underwear did.

“P-pete!” You screamed as you tried to adjust to his size, years together and still not used to it. But Peter was also impatient, the long hours of work boring you two to no end, leading to a desperate need for ecstasy and release.

He thrusted hard into you, as you tried to meet him halfway, bouncing up and down his length. At this point, he had already untied the laces of your dress and ripping open the remaining bits, fully exposing your breast as they bounced up and down with your movements.

He pulled you towards him by the hips, closing every inch of space between you two as he tug on your arms, setting them over his shoulders and you wrapped them around his neck , all the while his own strong arms embraced you by your waist, trapping you against his own bare chest.

Your movements were never ceasing, never slowing down. Quite the opposite, actually, as the sound of skin hitting against skin only got louder, your own screams following, and the chair beneath you cracked, trembled, threatening to break with every one of his thrusts.

All day you were unaware of how much you’d desired, of how much you needed your husband inside of you, touching you, adoring you. You were too busy to focus on that, but you kept secretly always thinking about it.

When the tips of his fingers graced over the papers, following along the lines he read, the maps he analyzed, making you wish it was your skin he was playing with. When he bit his bottom lip when concentrating, every time he found a word he couldn’t understand, mistranslated or misplaced, or a topic that left him wondering, how you wish it was your lips he was biting instead.

When his hands rested on your back whenever he called you over, pulling you to his side asking for assistance, and his fingertips lingered on the side of your breasts, how you wished they were wrapped on them instead, playing with them bare.

You were hungry for him all day and only now realized. The ongoing sway of your hips a testament to this truth. Bodies all sweaty, dripping, clothes gluing to each other’s skins. Your naked chest, your hard nipples rubbing against the warmth of his own sweat soaked chest.

A knot forming on your stomach announced the coming of your high, as you begged your husband to “Please, baby, cum with me.”

With your request, you felt his load shooting up inside you soon after, filling you up with his thick seed, your husband a whimpering, moaning mess underneath you, his sound alone enough to bring you to your climax as well, your own release mixing with his inside your aching walls.

As you both try to ride down your highs, you lay on his chest, head resting on his shoulder, both breathless, messy and numb from all the pleasure. He held your chin, leaving peck all the way up till he felt the touch of your plump lips, giving you little kisses as he waited for you to recompose, pride blooming high inside of him, glad it was him and no one else making you feel this way.

There was, perhaps, nothing Peter loved more than watching you getting drunk on his dick, getting dumb on his touch, head completely empty from anything else. Your post sex glow his favorite version of you.

“Should we move to our chambers?” he whispered, not wanting to startle you, who still rested, with your eyes closed, on his shoulder.

Looking at him through long lashes, his dirty smirk adorning his well crafted lips, you found yourself obsessed with him all over again, just like every time he fucks you senseless. Obsessed with him just like the day you met, and the day you stood on the altar, and every single day after that and for the rest of your entire life, so you wished.

Kissing his cheeks over and over, you take a look around the otherwise empty office, made warm by the fire burning in your fireplace, darkned by the lack candles, and now filled with the smell of sex.

“We have plenty of space here.” you told him, meeting his lips once again, royal business forgotten.

#peter pevensie smut #peter pevensie #peter pevensie x reader #peter pevensie imagine #peter pevensie x female!reader #peter pevensie fanfiction #narnia imagine #narnia fanfiction

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fluentmoviequoter · 7 months

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Pictures of You

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!wife!artist!reader

Summary: While patrolling the fairgrounds, Lucy convinces Tim to have their picture drawn. She doesn't expect you, Tim's wife, to be the artist.

Warnings: fluff! mention of a bomb threat

Word Count: 1.3k+ words

Picture from Pinterest

“Why are you acting like you’re being punished? This is fun!” Lucy exclaims.

“Feels like a punishment,” Tim mutters, not slowing down as he looks around while he walks. “Fairground duty is not my idea of a good time, Chen.”

“What do you have against fun and showing you have a personality, Bradford?”

“If you’re having so much fun, why don’t you focus on that instead of me? You just do your thing, and I’ll do my job.”

Lucy groans but continues walking through the endless rows of booths. There’s food, games, face painting, vendors, and more local artists than she can count. Tim keeps his eyes on the people rather than the entertainment, only looking away when his phone rings.

“Bradford,” he answers.

“Bradford, how’s it going?” Wade asks. “We haven’t seen any indication that the threat was legitimate at any of the other venues.”

“Someone called in a fake bomb threat? Who could imagine such a thing,” Tim answers with his unique blend of sarcasm and grumpiness. “I haven’t seen anything here other than the usual suspicious individuals that show up for cheap booze and carnival rides.”

“It’s not a carnival!” Lucy interjects. “If you’re going to hate on it, at least hate on it correctly.”

“Sounds like you’re having a good time,” Wade teases. “Keep an eye out, the day isn’t over yet.”

“Yes, sir,” Tim answers.

“Oh, and one more thing, Bradford. Loosen up and have a little bit of fun for once, would you?”

“And risk finding out that the bomb threat was legitimate, no thanks. Bye, Grey.”

“Tim, look!” Lucy squeals. “Caricatures! Can we please get one?”

“We are on the clock, boot.”

“I’m going to ignore the ‘boot’ comment and simply remind you that I am no longer a rookie, but I’ll let it slide. I’ll say please again.”

“No deal. We’re here for work, Chen, not to get temporary tattoos or eat funnel cake.”

“You like funnel cake?”

Tim glares at Lucy before saying, “Not the point.”

“Tim,” she groans, tilting her head back. “What did Wade say?”

“To keep an eye out.”

“And to have fun?”

Tim doesn’t answer, and Lucy bounces in place.

“One booth,” Tim concedes. “And then we’re going back to foot patrol. Don’t forget why we’re here.”

“Sir, yes, sir,” Lucy answers, mock saluting him before she hurries to the first booth in a row of artists. “Are you more of a ten-minute portrait or a caricature guy? Do you know the difference?” she asks when Tim joins her side.

“You pick. But you only have five minutes before I leave, whether the picture is done or not.”

Lucy nods enthusiastically before she begins walking. She slows down to look in several booths while Tim keeps an eye out for anyone matching the description from the call this morning.

“This one,” Lucy decides before pushing Tim into the empty tent.

“Hi,” Tim greets.

You look up from the sketchpad in your lap and smile. “Hello, officers,” you greet. “How can I help you?”

“Hi! We want a caricature,” Lucy answers. “Oh, and I’m Lucy and this is Tim; we’re off the clock for a few minutes, so we wanted to have some fun.”

“We’re not off the clock, boot,” Tim grunts.

“Boot?” you inquire. “You’re a rookie?”

“Not anymore, he’s just grumpy and doesn’t understand how much fun I can be.”

“Well, Lucy, what kind of fun would you like to have? I can do, or at least try, just about anything you’re interested in. Though if you want a portrait in ninety seconds or less, there is a guy down this row that can do that.”

“Are they any good?” Lucy asks quietly.

You shake your head before gesturing toward two seats on the other side of your canvas.

“I’m giving you free reign, but if you can make it kinda caricature-like, I wouldn’t be opposed,” Lucy says.

Looking over at Tim, you decide what you want to do. The wedding ring on your fingers glints as you reach for a marker, and Tim’s eyes drop as he watches your hand before meeting your eyes.

“I’m going to regret this,” Tim grumbles.

“Tim, be nice,” Lucy scolds under her breath. She sends you an apologetic look, but you only smile.

“I’m used to it,” you promise.

“Lots of unwilling models?”

Turning your attention to your paper, you shake your head. “Officer Bradford, care to explain?”

“Lucy, this is my wife,” he says reluctantly before saying your name.

“Wait. Oh my gosh, I have so many questions!” Lucy responds.

“You only have four minutes, so make everything quick before I send you to check the portable restrooms,” Tim snaps.

“Tim,” you warn.

“Bradford?” someone asks from outside your booth.

You chuckle as Tim closes his eyes. He rubs a finger over his left ring finger, and you smile when his eyes return to you.

“Officer Thorsen, good to see you,” you greet.

“Hey, Mrs. Bradford,” he replies. “Makes a whole lot more sense now.”

“You didn’t think Tim would willingly have his picture drawn?”

“Aaron, you knew?” Lucy asks. “I knew Tim was married, but- Tim, why didn’t you introduce me?”

“I actually met Aaron on accident while I was at the station once,” you offer, adding the finishing touches to the caricature.

Aaron steps to your side, pressing his lips together to hide his smile before he radios for all nearby officers to meet at your booth.

“Thorsen, you just saved Chen from a long afternoon of checking the backside of this event,” Tim interjects.

“Worth it,” Aaron responds happily.

“Bradford?” Nolan asks as he approaches. “Oh, you got a caricature! Can we see?”

A small crowd gathers in your booth: your models, Aaron, Nolan, Celina, and two other officers wait to see your picture.

“You told Aaron to call for backup for when you get mad at me, right?” you joke, winking at Tim.

You smile at Lucy before turning the board around so they can see the finished picture. Tim remains impassive, but Lucy laughs, leaning backward as the other officers yell in surprise before laughing so hard tears come to their eyes.

“Who’s the boot now, Bradford?” Lucy asks through her laughter.

The picture of Tim as a cowboy boot with a police badge and Lucy as a puppy in a police uniform goes over well with every cop in the booth.

“I’m getting you back for this,” Tim says. “Both of you.”

“Don’t threaten civilians, Bradford,” Nolan chides.

“Don’t threaten your wife!” Aaron amends.

Celina and Nolan leave first, and soon you, Tim, and Lucy are alone in the booth again. Lucy happily takes the picture, holding it against her chest as she watches Tim.

“We got a bomb threat this morning,” Tim says softly. “So, if you want to head out early, I’ll be home as soon as my shift ends.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to pose for your own copy?” you ask.

“If you want to draw me, just ask,” Tim replies as he stands. “But we both know who’s on every page of that sketchbook.”

“Who?” Lucy asks.

“Me,” Tim answers. At the same time, you say, “Kojo.”

Tim rolls his eyes and snatches it from your side. He laughs as he sees the most recent picture of Kojo. After he flips a page, though, he’s met with a picture of him. Lucy coos, immediately commenting on how cute the two of you are.

“Let’s go, boot. A word about this, and I’ll have you assigned to cavity searches,” Tim says as he steers Lucy out of your booth. He turns back to you to add, “I love you. I’ll see you at home.”

“I love you,” you answer. “And don’t be too hard on her, I drew the picture after all.”

“You’ve got ring immunity,” he says, pointing to your wedding ring. “So, I make no promises.”

“Tim!” Lucy yells. “There’s funnel cakes!”

Tim rolls his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose as he steps away from you. You laugh as he waves over his shoulder, glad you got to see him, even if he will be teased about it for a while.

#tim bradford x reader #hanna writes✯#tim bradford fluff #tim bradford the rookie #tim bradford imagine #tim bradford #the rookie abc #requests #fem!reader

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naffeclipse · 18 days

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Forget-me-not

Reader x Sun and Moon

Commission Info

Thank you for @robinette-green for the lovely request! I adored writing this and making the boys so sweet to the reader! The reader is a clockwork animatronic who's trapped in an abandoned circus, and Sun and Moon step foot onto the forgotten ground and find someone in need of their help.

———

You watch another golden glow creep into oblivion upon the abandoned carnival and its sad, lonely inhabitants. The sun withdraws soundlessly like a stranger passing by. The Freak Show sign slumps, depressed. The once golden and galloping horses in the carousel have rusted into cruel, dark hues and no longer stamp or throw their wild manes back while children ride their once beautiful, gleaming saddles. The big tent—it hasn’t been big in years. It lies in sore tatters, wet from yesterday’s rainstorm with poles sticking up high and stringing along broken bulbs of once bright, yellow lights illuminating the darkness, promising fun to the humans who stepped onto the fairgrounds.

You hate the darkness. You hate it more than being bolted down in place and left to host a game of ring toss no one has played in years. Your right arm is still extended in invitation over the green and brown bottles. The carnival owner couldn’t even allow you both of your arms, pinning your stance into place with bolts and leaving only your left hand to occasionally wave and flutter to catch the attendee’s eyes.

After all the trouble he went to steal you away from your creator, you thought he would at least have taken you with him when the bright, colorful lights and happy, bouncing music came to a halt.

The soft words of your creator ring distantly, like a voice calling out through fog. You are—were his most beautiful creation. He whispered the words to you while he painted your lips red and bid you to take a look in the mirror.

You agreed. You were so, so pretty.

Perhaps it’s for the best that you don’t know what you look like anymore. You don’t want to look upon how rusted your clockwork inner workings have become. Your once pale and milky porcelain skin might be gray and slushy as the dirt along the pathways guests took, and that is not something you wish to know. There’s no doubt your red lips and silky red hair have been forsaken to the elements. You fear you are ruined.

You are now worthy of abandonment.

In the darkness, you truly are forgotten. A hitch within your clockwork chassis catches and grinds before continuing, but the scraping pain remains.

Your attention is drawn back to the front entrance, a good distance away from you. Half crumbled with support beats cutting over the access in an ‘X’ shape, like a warning to not trespass this decrepit lot, shadows slink over the splintered and rotted wood. Long, lanky umbras move with a silence that is so strange and careful.

You squint your eyes. The urge to tilt your head slightly to peer better at the disturbance is cut short by the bolt in your neck, refusing to let your head tilt save from a slight side to side to give an enthralling smile.

You shouldn’t get too excited. It’s likely mere animals. A pair of raccoons or a stray dog who has lost its owner. Once, you watched a doe deer step softly through the wretched ruins, big wet eyes turning to you for one moment before the blurt of your automated voice lines jumped from your throat and sent the creature bounding away.

Nothing is yours here, not even the moment of daydreaming of you prancing out of this forsaken carnival like a doe deer. Free.

The shadows mingle into the dusky darkness. The blue-gray twilight reveals figures, and your mechanical heart chokes.

Two personages creep along the path winding from the entranceway. The same path leading directly towards the ring toss game; towards you. One dons a thick hood and cape, dark blue like midnight. The other’s head is sharper and unconcealed. A crown of jutting points frame the figure’s disk-like face, and a thick deep brown shawl gathers at his throat and falls down his chest and arms.

As they pass into a silvery slant of budding starlight, metal glints on the crowned one’s face and the other hooded person’s hands spray out while scanning the darkness for threats, silver digits curling and uncurling.

Two automatons. Like you. But not.

A whirl in your servos thrums a loud, exhausted sound, and you stiffen—as much as you can while bolted in place.

What could two automatons want with an abandoned circus? You were never familiar with the world outside of your creator’s home before you were smuggled out against your will by the circus owner, but at the circus, you learned much.

You learned of scavengers and automatons gaining their rights. You always wonder if that’s partly the reason you were left here to rot too—are you too human now to own but robotic enough to be neglected?

They could spy on you in the darkness and decide to strip you for parts. Your clockwork clanks heavily within you like a clapper within a bell, beating against your brass heart. Can they hear it? You have to stop. Be quiet.

The two automatons prowl forward. Their optics and audio processors strain not unlike hounds searching for a fox. What do they prey upon? The crowned one gestures towards the carousel, the ride well within distance to your ring toss game, and you must clench your jaw tightly to keep from whimpering. The hooded one dips his head but keeps moving forward. Your gears crank in jarring motions, jolting and jerking while you hope they take the parts they desire from the circus and leave.

The hooded one continues down the path. Your chassis tightens, and your fingers tremble in place while you keep your eyes averted, held above the automaton’s head but keeping him in the unfocused corners of your optics.

Please. Please, don’t. Your bottom lip quivers.

“Step right up and toss a ring to win a prize!” The words blurt from your mouth and startle all the ruins and everyone within.

Two pairs of glowing eyes fall upon you. Straightening and alerted, the shrouded automatons stare into your fluttering eyelids as you attempt to beg them to leave you alone. A spark burns in your throat. Your voice lines refuse to give.

One stops and reaches silver and blue digits up and lowers the hood slowly. A face gazes at you, scarlet eyes glowing in the darkness with a face like a crescent moon. A blue nightcap, slightly frayed and worn, and decorated in yellow stars, covers his circular faceplate.

The other steps closer with a curious tilt of the sharp points framing the automation’s head, and enters the last of the blue-gray darkness before night completely takes over. A yellow face, grinning with round cheeks, observes you. Pale optics beam.

“Hello, friend,” he speaks, voice bouncing low but with intrigue. “Why don’t you come on out? It’s alright, don’t be afraid.”

Your optics dart side to side. Helplessness settles over you, pinned in place by rusty, dark shame.

“Do you need help?” The one with the pale yellow sun rays steps closer, his eyes narrowing in the slightest. “Are you stuck?”

The moon-face automaton slips closer. The glow of his gaze sweeps over the game you’re bolted in front of, and he fixates on your right arm stiffly held out in invitation as your fingers curl and clench. You glance down at him, wondering if your eyes plead in the way your mouth cannot.

Biting your bottom lip does not prevent another voice line from bursting forth, and inwardly, you crumple.

“Try your hand! One ring around the neck of a bottle wins a prize!”

“Not stuck,” the lunar automaton turns to his accomplice. His cloak shifts like shadows under the arc of the moon. “Trapped.”

“Oh, you poor thing! Here, let us help.” The sunny one steps forward, his hands raised as if to pacify a wild creature. “And, if I may be so bold, your voice box sounds like it’s not your own.”

You wish to nod but only succeed in cranking your head halfway to the right, as if in a gesture towards your hapless situation.

You wonder if they can see the ugly, rusty bolts pinning your body in place, holding you shackled to the ring toss game. They must, for the lunar face man slips closer, stooping down by your feet behind the barrier as he inspects the heavy metal securing you in place. The solar gentleman energetically leaps over the barrier and stops right beside you, hand on his hips. His shawl drapes darkly around him but his grin is bright like a new dawn.

You don’t dare hope. The niceness will fall away like a curtain to reveal the snarling, roaring beast behind it. They will strip you for parts or worse, mock you, revel in your helplessness, and slip back through the night, leaving you with only the daydream of a rescue.

Facing the sunny one, you hold your metaphorical breath as he pauses. He stares deeply into your optics. You stare back into the foggy gray irises he possesses, like a cool, misty fog gathering in the night only to be touched by the sun’s first rays of light.

“Your eyes are beautiful—the same color as forget-me-nots.” The sunny automaton smiles.

Your servos slow to a calm hum.

“Come on,” he says and carefully reaches for your neck to begin unscrewing the bolt stuck in your throat, “You won’t be left to rust here anymore, starlight.”

Your insides melt, touched by their generosity.

Below, at your feet, the dark blue and silver automaton begins to unscrew the bolts holding your feet down. Rust scrapes away and a harsh squeak of metal echoes. You grunt, jostled but, strangely, you hold to hope like a feathered, tiny thing in your hands, hoping to watch it fly again.

“We can fix your voice box,” the lunar one speaks in a slight rasp you find endearing. His gaze remains focused on setting you free. “We have a shop. We repair things sometimes.”

“That’s right,” the solar one chimes in, “We scavenge as well. Don’t worry, we’ve repaired a few automatons or two. You can trust us.”

When he pries the bolt from your neck, you can dip your head in acknowledgment. A strange sensation burns through your wires, heating you from the inside out. Emotion. You wish you could ask for their names.

“You look very delicate.” The one at your feet finally frees one of your porcelain slippers with a slow, cautious tug. “We’ll be gentle.”

He tilts his head upwards and flashes a grin. You find yourself warming in the face. Is he being a tease or does he not know how he sounds? By the mischievous glint in your eyes, you fear he knows exactly what he’s doing.

You try to pry your lips apart to find the right words, but all that leaves you is “Enjoy lots of fun! For a small price, of course!”

The automaton of yellow and gray hues glances briefly at you, tilting his heading in confusion while he begins to loosen the bolt stabbed into your right elbow. Holding his gaze, you speak with your eyes, almost pleading.

What are your names?

A spark of understanding answers in his pale optics, and he gasps.

“Moon, where are our manners? I’m so sorry, starlight! My name is Sun, and this is Moon.”

You dip your head again, bobbing up and down in excitement. You know their names. You haven’t learned anything new about anyone in so long…

When they free you from the ring toss game, you can hardly believe how the muddy path now leads you to the outside of the circus as Sun holds you gently in his grasp, how their strides are sure-footed and smooth, and how they look at you with concern.

You vow silently to speak their names the moment your voice is free too.

You haven’t seen anything outside of the carnival in so long, you’ve almost forgotten the sight of dark, shiny paved streets and the lone lamp posts that light the way. Gray and dreary buildings line the streets. One, however, is cheerfully plastered in wooden stars painted bright yellow, and the door is a soft, sky blue with white fluffy clouds along the very top.

Sun and Moon take turns carrying you. Their hands are careful, cradling you close against their cloak and shawl while murmuring that it’s alright. You’re safe. They’ll get you fixed up in no time. Moon cradles you in his arms now as Sun unlocks the door, and holds it open so you can be carried over the threshold.

For an odd reason, it triggers your faceplate to heat up more than the colored rouge on the porcelain should allow.

Through the door, the interior of the workshop is set with tools ranging from smallest to biggest, shelves containing boxes marked, and small containers with different, shiny nuts and bolts. There are even some small containers with shiny, bronze gears. You haven’t seen a spotless floor in so long. There were always leaves and mud staining the path serpentining through the carnival.

A table, coppery under a work lamp, awaits.

“I’m setting you here,” Moon murmurs close to your audio processor before he lays you softly down with a gentle click of your frame against the metal.

“I worry about how long you were left there.” Sun loses the shawl and locates a brown leather apron. Tools line the pockets as he swiftly ties it behind his back. His eyes are creased though he still smiles reassuringly. “By the amount of rust, I would guess years. For your sake, I hope I’m wrong.”

The answer is on the tip of your tongue. What comes out instead is a showy voice declaring “Whoever can ring three bottles wins the ultimate prize!”

A whirl in your servos practically screams out your embarrassment. You lower your gaze. The stiffness in your joints is almost as unbearable as the voice lines the circus owner forced upon you.

“Shush,” Moon says, his cloak falling away as he snags an apron similar to Sun’s off of a hook. “Wait for a moment, pretty thing, then you may have your words back.”

“That’s right,” Sun nods and shifts to stand close beside you. He grows still for a moment, his bright disposition falling behind a somber cloud. “We’re very lucky to have found you.”

You smile—not the forced, showy smile that has been plastered on your face while you lie in the ruins, but a true smile for the ones who rescued you.

Moon moves to the other side of the table. His hands, now gloved in black leather, hesitate.

“We will open you up now.” The automaton turns flush along the spindle support of his neck. “Is that alright? It’s the only way we can fix your voice box.”

Sun leans forward, his smile still cheery while he modestly averts his eyes, “As well any other damage done from being exposed and negligent for… however long you were out there.”

You never thought the solar automaton could be shy, and yet.

You nod your head as it rests on the table. You feel safe, so much more so than when you were bolted in place. The circus owner did not ask you what you wanted then.

Moon and Sun move in tandem. It’s strange and beautiful, how effortlessly they weave their fingers to begin work. Sun unlocks your chassis and Moon gently lifts it open. You throw your gaze to the ceiling. You don’t want to know. You know they will find it horrible and awful, but you don’t want to see it and have it seared into your mind.

“You’re beautiful,” Moon utters.

You blink, as breathless as a machine can become.

“Your clockwork—is very beautiful,” a slight stumble from his raspy voice seals your fate. You say nothing. You press your lips together and wonder if you might overheat right here and now.

“You are pretty,” Sun continues effortlessly, though there’s a slight trill to his voice that may give away his nervousness or bashfulness, you can’t decide. “Clockwork automatons are rare.”

The circus owner made mention of that.

You close your eyes as Sun and Moon narrate their every movement. Hands held down by your sides, you only occasionally shift or softly buzz as they clean and fix your voice box nestled within the bottom of your throat. They are so gentle. You never knew hands could be so kind, even if they are rummaging through your inner workings.

Could they possibly let you stay?

The absurd thought enters your processor and you almost immediately shove it into a box and bury it deep into cold, black soil.

“You’re doing so good.” Sun grins as he looks down into your chassis. “There. That should do it. Moon?”

“I’m done.”

Slowly, carefully, as if finishing a sacred rite, the two close up your chassis and tighten it back into place. You haven’t opened your eyes yet. A part of you wonders if you’ll only look out into the ruins of the circus again, and find this was all one blissful moment of a daydream.

“Can you say something, starlight?” Sun’s voice washes over you.

“It’s alright if you’re not ready,” Moon answers in a low sound of comfort.

It falls past your lips before you realize you are not ready, but you so terribly want to speak anyway.

“Thank you.” Your eyes flash open, and you gape—the echo. Your soft, demure tones no longer strained into shouting and calling attention.

It’s you.

Your hand touches your lips, and a sound between a laugh and a sob emerges from your voice box.

“Thank you! Thank you!” You look between the two of them, overwhelmed. With the overhead lamp now touching their features as they sit back, grinning, you get to admire their handsome features.

You two are very striking.

“Oh, my,” Sun chuckles, bleeding red in the cheeks, “Thank you!”

“You’re very sweet,” Moon murmurs, touching his nightcap with a slight bashfulness.

And you realize you spoke your thoughts out loud. You called them striking.

“Oh,” you begin to burn.

“It’s alright,” Moon says swiftly, interrupting your apology. “We would like to know what your plans are after this. Now that you’re free.”

“Free,” you whisper back. You clutch at your chest, over your clockwork heart, and marvel. “I…”

You have your voice back. Use it.

“I—if I may be so bold, may I ask to stay with you both? I won’t be a burden. I won’t stay longer than you will allow, and I—”

Sun sighs, dramatic and cheerful, as he finds your hand to hold it.

“I thought you would never ask, starlight!”

Moon’s hand slips under your anxious fingers. His nod echoes his solar counterpart’s enthusiasm. You turn your head between both of them, your lips parting in awe.

“Thank you,” you whisper. “Sun. Moon. Thank you.”

#naff's writing commissions #some cute scavengers find you and rescue you from an abandoned circus wdyd?#loved writing this <3 #naff writing

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saintarc · 2 months

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KISSES THAT BURN . . . yandere! dabi.

about. an obsessed man marks you with his flaming kisses.

notes. female! reader with stockholm syndrome. heavily suggestive content. i'm a little crazy for him. i think.

dabi's tongue glided over the skin of your neck, the muscle oddly hot against you as you threw your head back in the pleasure of his work. a hand slapped over your mouth to muffle any sound to escape from the tip of your lips, including the choked sobs that gathered at the corner of your glassy eyes.

obviously, you weren't supposed to be enjoying this, considering the fact that this man had you locked up in a dim room, only visiting whenever he was bored and wanted some entertainment with you. last time he checked, it was your ovulation week, the perfect time for him to execute a performance to entertain himself. unfortunately, he was right about your body, and the way it was reacting to his lips sucking and biting your neck.

dabi's hands exploded every curve of your clothed body, not having any intention to uncloth them yet. that was how cruel of a man he is, teasing your body which wanted some form of attention. you can't help but tangle your fingers in his raven hair, pulling at them the moment dabi's hands moved to rub your clothed and wet vagina. this man is driving you crazy, and he knows that. he knows that you're enjoying it, yet suffering with the tease.

his hands continued to gently rub you, your toes curling at the friction as you let out pathetic whines mixed together with moans. with dabi's free hand, he rubbed his thumb over the fresh hickeys he just painted with his teeth. blue flames emit just slightly on his thumb as he swiped his thumb over your skin, colouring your the skin of your neck a new bruise.

you winced in pain, feeling the burn that was drawn on you from his thumb. dabi let out a mocking chuckle before he shuts your mouth with his lips, kissing you. somehow, his lips are hot, as if they're burning. and you were convinced that he made sure to heat himself up before his little show with teasing you. his lips are hot against yours, his tongue fueling a fire in your mouth as his tongue explored every corner.

deciding that he didn't want to swallow any of your messy moans anymore, the man slid his fingers under your waistband and play with pussy. of course, he made sure to always maintain a heat that's pleasurable for you and will mark you. just like his kisses that burns. oh, he's gonna have so much fun with covering you in purple burns.

#🎥 . . xwrites #dabi #dabi x reader #dabi smut #dabi x reader smut #mha #my hero academia #mha dabi #touya #touya todoroki #touya x reader #mha touya #mha smut #dabi x y/n #dabi x you #touya todoroki x reader

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rcmclachlan · 3 months

Text

7x09 deleted scene coda

For the anon who requested it! Hope this is as fun to read as it was to write.

When Buck sighs, it sounds despondent, even to his own ears, which is insane considering he’s finally got a medal and isn’t being court martialed for his involvement in the theft of municipal property. There’s no reason to feel this put out.

"Are you sure you don't want anything?" Maddie asks, her patented kindness warring with incredulity bordering on annoyance. She used to sound like that whenever he’d get caught skipping school to go hang out at Swatara Creek.

He sighs again. "No."

"Because you’ve been staring at the dessert table for, like, four whole minutes," she says.

"It's a free country, Mads," he reminds her without looking away from the golden idol he’s just now decided to start worshiping. It totally goes against the Ten Commandments, but according to Eddie, breaking one of those means you can just repent twice as hard. Or something like that. It’s becoming very apparent that Eddie’s whole thing with religion is kind of screwy. "I can stare at a platter of cannolis if I want. Because of freedom."

"You know you can't absorb sugar molecules through osmosis, right? You're basically just torturing yourself."

With one last longing look at the chocolate chips dotting the ricotta cream, he turns to her and sticks his tongue between his teeth to be a brat. "Yeah, but my Adonis belt lines can cut glass, so who’s really losing here?"

The look she gives him is flat as a board. "Still you."

"I… don’t have a comeback for that right now, but I’m working on it," he promises, ignoring her eye roll in favor of searching for something else to focus his attention on. It usually helps to take his mind off the ketonic headache he’s been rocking for the last week.

His gaze locks on his target with an almost audible click, and he watches Captain Vincent Gerrard stop to take a photo with some dark-haired woman and then make a face behind her back as soon as she walks away.

That "heard you got your wings" comment has been bouncing off the walls of his mind like a DVD player screensaver for the last half hour, and hot on its heels is the memory of the muscle jumping in Tommy’s jaw in the pause that followed. Normally, Tommy would’ve stuffed that silence with at least two comments so dry and hilarious it would take a minute for anyone to realize they were the shiny wrappers around devastating insults. But he didn’t. It was like his jaw was wired shut, and it physically pained Buck to see it. Thank god Chim was there with a killer response at the ready.

Tommy’s told him a little about his time under Gerrard and while he hasn’t exactly painted a picture he’s definitely drawn the outline of a paint-by-numbers image that Buck can easily color in.

There are very few people Buck can say he truly hates, especially when he doesn’t actually know them himself. But he hates Gerrard. He hates him for the way he made and still makes Tommy feel like he has to be someone else, someone so incredibly different than the man Buck has come to know and utterly adore. He hates him for stealing the grin off Chimney’s face today. He hates Gerrard for getting into Buck’s own head and pulling his focus in the first place, for casting a shadow on what should’ve been a perfect day.

Buck may not be eating sugar these days, but there are about sixty Domino packets in his pockets that will be getting up close and personal with Gerrard’s gas tank before the day’s through.

"Huh. Wonder what that’s about."

Blinking away the red haze from his vision, Buck gives Gerrard’s back a little sneer before he turns his head to see what Maddie’s talking about. He follows her gaze across the room to where Hen and Karen are standing in front of Tommy, shoulder to shoulder like they’re presenting a united front. It’s amazing how they make someone of Tommy’s height and build look small. Whatever it is they’re discussing, it looks grave. Maybe the pall of Gerrard’s presence is affecting more than just Tommy. Maybe it’s opened up old wounds from the days when Tommy was—by Tommy’s own admission—an asshole.

He starts getting to his feet to go over and assess the situation, but suddenly Tommy breaks away from Hen and Karen, and the second he’s beyond their line of sight, the corners of his mouth curve up. By the time Tommy makes it back to their table, plate of cake in hand, he’s beaming.

"Everything… okay?"

"Everything’s great." Tommy pulls out the seat next to him and wiggles a little as he sits. Buck’s never really understood the phrase "pleased as punch," but he’s starting to get an inkling.

Buck looks at Maddie, who widens her eyes and shrugs. "Uh, what were you talking about? It looked pretty serious."

Taking a practically pornographic bite of the cake—which is just plain mean—Tommy holds up a finger, smiling while he chews, before he swallows. He presses his knee to Buck's and says cheerfully, "I just got the shovel talk."

"The what?"

Across the table, Maddie rolls her eyes fondly and says, "You know what a shovel talk is, Evan. It's the verbal equivalent of a dad cleaning his shotgun on the porch when his daughter's prom date shows up."

Tommy nods in agreement. "You know: 'if you break his heart, I'll break your knees.'"

It feels like Buck's eyebrows are trying to make a daring escape from his face via his hairline. "Hen threatened to break your knees?"

"Not in so many words, but it was heavily implied." Tommy sounds positively thrilled about it. "They wanted to know if my intentions toward you were honorable. Although I think Karen was just fishing for details, to be honest."

Maddie's eyes are bright when she leans forward, like this is the juiciest bit of gossip she's ever heard. Buck crumbles up his napkin and throws it at her. She peaceably lets it bounce off her head. "And? What'd you say?"

"That we're taking it slow."

His jaw drops, which only serves to remind him that it's still aching from this morning. "So you lied?"

"I did not," Tommy says primly, knocking his knee against Buck's. "But I also did some heavy implying of my own."

The wink he tosses Buck's way is downright filthy, and when he takes another bite of his cake he rumbles so deeply with pleasure that the table practically vibrates.

Squirming a little in his chair, with the familiar heat that blossoms any time he's within ten feet of Tommy making its way down his chest and into his belly, Buck scans the room to see if there's an empty coat closet somewhere nearby. The reception's loud enough that no one would hear a thing. Probably. Buck's starting to gain a reputation for being a bit of a screamer.

A fork taps his knuckles lightly, bringing his attention back, and Tommy gives him one of those knowing looks that always leave Buck feeling breathless and exposed on an atomic level.

"No." The corner of Tommy's mouth curls up, and he nods at Evan's plate of chicken wings. "Eat your protein."

It's truly terrible, incredible timing that Chimney comes back to the table from wherever he went just in time to hear Buck say, voice full of sleaze, "Between our shower this morning and the buffet, I've hit my protein quota for the day."

Without a word, Chimney turns around and walks in the opposite direction.

Maddie collapses into her folded arms, cackling, and Buck can't help but join in. Tommy drops his head into his hands, shoulders shaking.

"Timing is everything," Maddie practically cries.

"Well, I'm definitely getting kicked out of the group chat," Tommy says through his laughter. "Worth it."

Snickering, Buck nudges him with an elbow. It should feel like hitting the side of a mountain, but Tommy obligingly lets himself be moved, and Buck's rib cage feels like it's both expanding and shrinking at an exponential rate. His bones are going to vibrate to dust and his heart is going to be on display for everyone to see.

Swallowing around the sudden lump in his throat, he says, "Hey, most people aren't usually this happy to be threatened with grievous bodily harm, you know. Is this a rom-com thing?"

Still chuckling a little, Tommy takes a thoughtful bite of his cake and shrugs. "I'm allowed to be happy about it."

"Are you?"

"Absolutely," Tommy says, with his signature decisiveness. He slides his fork down through layers of cake and delicately cuts himself a corner with a frosting flower. "This is the first time anyone's ever cared enough to threaten me about someone I'm with. It means this is real to them."

He punctuates that by gesturing with his fork, the flower drawing a sugary line in the space between them, and then brings it to his mouth with a pleased hum.

Buck has seen at least twenty documentaries about nuclear bombs, with enough footage that Buck could describe in great, gory detail what blast, fire, and radiation can do to someone, to a city.

J. Robert Oppenheimer's famous quote, used in at least half of those documentaries—if the radiance of a thousand suns were to burst at once into the sky—suddenly comes to mind, damn near taking Buck out at the knees, and he stares dumbly as Tommy chews his cake like he didn't just devastate the entire landscape.

Maddie lifts her head from her arms and catches Buck's eye. There's something gentle and sweet lurking in her gaze, and he ducks his head a little with a smile, feeling caught out, even though he's not the one courting mayhem this time.

The knee pressed to his knocks against it again, and Buck blinks, startled out of his daze, to find a tiny dollop of white frosting held out to him on Tommy's fork. He looks just beyond it to where Tommy's smiling at him, like he knows exactly what he was doing when he said that, and is even happier about it than he was about his kneecaps being on the line.

"It's yours if you want it," Tommy says easily. It sounds like he's offering something else.

Heart pounding, Buck leans forward and wraps his lips around the edges of the tines, taking that small offering onto his tongue where it hits with the intensity of a thermonuclear explosion.

Buck doesn't know what his face is doing, but it makes Tommy's gaze go dark with want.

A throat clears, and Buck reluctantly looks away to where Maddie is sitting. She's staring at Tommy with an odd smile on her face, one he doesn't think he's ever seen before. It's beautiful, of course, because all her smiles are, but there's an odd promise in it that makes Buck sit up a little straighter.

"Maddie?"

She doesn't even spare him a glance. "You break his heart? There's no helicopter in the world that will help you escape from me."

Tommy's eyes go wide, and Buck opens his mouth to tell him that she's kidding, that she would never, but he closes it because it feels like it would be a lie to say it.

But a grin breaks over Tommy's face like a sunrise, and the tilled-field lines at the corners of his eyes threaten to become trenches. "Good to know."

It sounds like he's never been so happy in his entire life.

Read on AO3

#bucktommy #911 #the 118: you hurt him and we'll break you in half like a kit-kat bar #tommy: this is the best day of my life

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munson-blurbs · 4 months

Text

Living After Midnight (Failed Rockstar!Eddie x Motel Worker!Reader)

♫ Summary: Perhaps Eddie Munson was someone you could lean on--literally and figuratively. (4.7k words)

♫ CW: slowburn, strangers-to-lovers, angst, anxiety, parental conflict, poverty, vandalism, so much yearning, an accidental boner, eventual smut (18+ only, minors DNI)

♫ Divider credit to @hellfire--cult

chapter nine: rest for the weary

Destroyed.

That was the only thought fleeting through your mind when you approached Eisen’s shattered door, jagged edges like rows of shark teeth. Your hand faltered, stopping just before the knob, like the whole store would disintegrate at the slightest turn.

Eddie stepped aside and gently opened the door, the bell jingling mockingly, watching to ensure that no more glass fell from the panes. “Careful,” he murmured, fingers ghosting over the middle of your back for just a second while you stepped over the threshold. Goosebumps formed beneath your shirt at his unexpected touch, brief as it was.

Your heart lurched once more as you entered the store, the normally meticulously organized shelves now coated in spray painted tags and profanities. A crudely drawn phallic symbol, complete with testicles and pubic hair, took up most of the front of the desk. The office door bore another one with a similar resemblance.

You were definitely surprised by Eddie’s offer to help out at Eisen’s, but nothing compared to the blatant shock on Ben’s face when he saw who accompanied you to the store. Your friend’s jaw clenched instinctively, and you realized he must have thought you brought Eddie here to confess.

“We came to help clean,” you quickly clarified, hoping Eddie didn’t sense the reasoning behind your explanation.

Silent tension thickened between the two men, your words your sole weapon to tear into it. “What can we do?” You asked Ben, volunteering yourself and Eddie in hopes of derailing potential conflict.

Ben cleared his throat, eyes swooping over the store that was still very much in disarray. Glass shards glittered across the floor despite his previous claims to have swept up, though you imagined that it was difficult to see clearly through his cloud of exhaustion. When he didn’t answer, you grabbed a broom from beside the door.

“I just got off the phone with the—” Aunt Tam walked in from the office, pausing mid-sentence when she spotted you. Her lips curled into whatever semblance of a smile she could muster as she shuffled over to wrap you in a hug. Her dark brown curls brushed your cheek.

When she pulled back, you hardly recognized her. Besides the passage of time carving wrinkles into her forehead and the bridge of her nose, her skin was free of make-up. You couldn’t remember the last time you saw her without at least mascara coating her lashes.

“We’re here to help with whatever you need.” You swallowed the lump in your throat at the sight of her bare face, the worry now permanently sealed into her eyes.

At the mention of a we, Aunt Tam glanced at the man beside you. Tepidly, Eddie stepped forward and held out his hand to shake hers. “Eddie Munson,” he said, posture straightening as he braced himself for a reaction. But if Ben truly suspected that Eddie had vandalized the store, he hadn’t shared that theory with his mother, because she shook Eddie’s hand without hesitation.

“Eddie can help remove the graffiti,” you offered, and Eddie nodded.

“Just need some WD-40,” he added with a small smile. “Maybe some steel wool if it’s really stubborn.”

Aunt Tam’s eyes lit up, taking your hand and giving it a squeeze that leaves your bones aching. “Thank you,” she said, her voice thick with emotion as she turned to face Eddie. “Thank you, Eddie.” She wiped at her nose with one shirt sleeve. “We should have all of that in the back, if you’ll follow me…”

Eddie nodded again, stuffing his hands in his pockets and trailing behind her. “Yes, ma’am.”

When you could be sure that both he and Aunt Tam were out of earshot, you shuffled over to Ben. “It wasn’t him,” you said under your breath. “He was at a concert that night, and even if he wasn’t—he wouldn’t do this.” You gestured at the destruction.

Not fully convinced of Eddie’s innocence, Ben narrowed his eyes behind his glasses. “How do you know?”

“The first night he stayed at the motel, he was smoking pot in his room. And when I told him not to, he listened.” You thought back to that moment, to his smirk that had you wondering if he would light another joint as soon as you turned your back. “And even though I basically accused him of vandalizing Eisen’s—before I knew where he really was—he still brought my essay to school today.”

Ben breathed out a defeated sigh. “Okay, fine,” he conceded, scratching at the back of his neck. “Is it bad that I wished it was him, so that we could stop worrying about whoever it was coming back and doing it again?”

You wrinkled your nose. “Kind of, yeah.” He scowled, playfulness stronger than any contempt, and you tapped the broomstick against his arm. “I’m guessing you didn’t share your theory with your parents?”

He shook his head. “My dad’s at the police station right now to see if any other shops caught the person on camera.”

“Yours didn’t?”

“Never installed any. Safe neighborhood, no need, y’know?” He rolled his eyes at his family’s naivety. “Seems like everyone else on the block felt the same way.”

You wanted to say more, to properly convey your sympathy, but your aunt and Eddie returned with the spray paint removal supplies. The broom suddenly became more interesting than ever before, your eyes glued to it as you brushed it against the floor. You didn't dare look at Eddie until he turned his back to you.

“All right,” he murmured to himself, tossing a rag over his shoulder and placing his hands squarely on his hips. The paint cans that had been sprayed were a lost cause, the veins in his biceps pulsing as he grabbed two at a time and heaved them onto the floor with soft grunts.

A teasing whisper tickled the shell of your ear. “Wipe your drool.” You could feel Ben’s smile as he spoke but didn’t have time to swat at him before he jogged over to help Eddie.

You preventatively swiped at your chin, relieved that you weren’t actually drooling. And why would you be? Eddie was your friend; nothing more, and sometimes a whole lot less. The excitement you’d felt when he’d shown up with your paper this afternoon was relief, not some burgeoning crush. Your hope that he would visit the front desk during your shifts could easily be explained as an eagerness for conversation, the ultimate cure for boredom. And the way you felt your heart beating in your stomach when he’d held your hand earlier–

It was only because it had been a long time since anyone had reached for you with an intimate gesture, you told yourself, save for Nora briefly squeezing your hand just before Eddie had taken it. But there was no flutter with Nora. A surge of gratefulness, maybe, but nothing compared to what Eddie’s touch had evoked.

“Heiress?”

Your head swiveled towards the sound of your nickname being called. Eddie looked at you, puzzled and impatient. “You okay? I’ve called your name, like, fifty times.”

“Twice,” Ben said; the clarification could have been a reassurance that you hadn’t spaced out for that long, or just a belated dig at Eddie. Either way, you appreciated it.

“Do you have one of those hair tie things?” Eddie shook his hair, which was already frizzing from perspiration.

You nodded dumbly, fingers fumbling for the elastic shoved deep into the abyss of your purse. Had you been staring at him? Gawking, even, as you silently tried to sort out your feelings?

“Thanks.” Despite your best efforts, you couldn’t draw your gaze from him as he tied back his mess of curls into a bun at the nape of his neck.

Sweep. Sweep, and stop thinking about how his stubble-coated jawline might feel beneath your lips.

This desire, this lust–it was all temporary. Fleeting. It would swiftly exit once the rush of exhilaration from his rescue fully wore off, and you would once again be content with a platonic friendship.

Your insides backflipped once more when Eddie rubbed the rag over the shelf, wiped away the graffiti, and flashed a million-watt smile in your direction.

If you had your way, ‘moving on’ would happen sooner rather than later.

Pristine wasn’t the right word to describe Eisen’s state when you finally left a few hours later, but the clean floor was a definite improvement. The graffiti was still visible on the shelves, but it had faded considerably with Eddie’s hard work. He stood next to Ben now, explaining how often to apply the WD-40 without ruining the finish.

Were they friends? Not even close. But each had let down their guard an inch more, though you remained unclear of the reason why Eddie’s was up in the first place.

A weighty exhaustion reminded you that you were surviving on pure adrenaline that had been steadily waning and was nearly depleted. A gentle hand rested on your shoulder as you returned the broom to its corner.

“Go home and rest,” Aunt Tam said kindly. “Ben told me you’ve been working nights and going to school. You need your sleep.”

“I know.” It was easier to agree than to argue, but the shop would be a mess if you had spent the afternoon sleeping.

Your aunt cocked her head and assessed you; whether you were too tired to properly fib or just her mother’s intuition, she didn’t believe you. “Well,” she sighed, “I told your boyfriend to get you home—”

Heat crept up your neck as she gestured a thumb towards Eddie. “Eddie’s not my boyfriend.”

Aunt Tam raised her eyebrows. “Oh, I just…he didn’t correct me earlier when I called you his girlfriend…and the looks you were giving each other…I figured…” She stopped, shaking off the notion as ridiculous.

Because it is ridiculous, you thought.

“We’re just friends.” That ‘just’ was cumbersome, like there was something inherently wrong with you and Eddie being friends. “We’re friends,” you amended, complete with a tired smile.

She fixed her composure, swiping her brunette bangs from her line of vision. “Well, we can’t thank you and your friend enough.”

She said that word like she knew something you didn’t. Worse, like you knew but refused to admit it.

Grogginess slowed your usual fast pace, and you stepped into the subway car with only a second to spare.

The adrenaline fully wore off once you sat down; the plastic subway seat might as well have been a plush mattress swathed in Egyptian cotton sheets. It wasn’t until you allowed yourself to sit back and breathe that the achiness crept in. Your lower back twinged; your shoulders and biceps remained tense from sweeping and scrubbing the shelves for so long. If you could feel your feet, they would probably hurt, too.

The yawn you let out stretched the skin on your face and brought reflexive tears to your eyes, and you wiped them away with the back of your hand.

“Tired?” Eddie asked, the question warped by a heavy yawn of his own.

You nodded, blinking a few times to keep your eyes open; your head felt like it could loll right off of your neck without warning.

Eddie shifted slightly and patted his right shoulder with his left hand. “Rest.”

“S’okay,” you mumbled, heaviness tugging at your eyelids even as you spoke. Exhaustion had its grip on you, tight enough that you barely noticed your stomach fluttering at the thought of resting on him. “I’ll just pass out when we get home.”

But he took one look at you, at the fogginess that draped over your body like a weighted cloak, and promptly vetoed that idea. “Rest,” he said again; this time, his words held a commanding air.

You clocked his concern, so unused to the way you ran yourself ragged until the kettle ran empty, until the match burned out. Another yawn escaped you, bringing a single hot tear with it, and any attempt to convince him that this was normal instantly became obsolete.

Sparing yourself the argument, you laid your head atop his shoulder. His cotton t-shirt was soft against your ear, somewhat muffling the train’s clanking and other passengers’ conversations. As quiet as the subway could be at seven o’clock in the evening.

“Our stop is—”

“I know.” The vibrations of his voice, your head so close to his throat, punctuated the reassurance. “You sleep, Heiress.”

The last thing you remembered was your grip loosening on the backpack strategically placed between your feet, your fingers unfurling from the strap as you succumbed to a dreamless sleep.

A hand on your knee gently shook you awake just as the conductor’s muffled voice announced that the train was approaching Forest Hills, and you felt a yank on your consciousness that pulled you out of your seat and towards the open doors.

“My backpack—” The icy panic that flooded your veins was enough to jar you awake. When you turned back, you saw that the train had already pulled away from the track.

“Right here.” Eddie patted the bag now slung over his shoulder. Your heart rate returned to its normal beat as relief washed over your skin, a wave crashing into the surf at high tide.

The station’s stale air covered you like a quilt, and the conductor had barely announced the grating reminder to stand clear of the closing doors before unconsciousness again hooked its claws into you.

“There ya go,” Eddie whispered when you rested your head on his shoulder once more. “Comfy?”

“Mhm.” And you were–unnervingly so. You hadn’t been this relaxed in a long time; no moment in recent memory came to mind. The questions you desperately sought answers to–why he hesitated to tell you about the concert, why he let Aunt Tam believe that he was your boyfriend–seemed utterly inconsequential.

You could vaguely feel Eddie fidgeting as you drifted in and out of consciousness, struggling to adjust his posture and avoid any unwarranted touch.

Sleep transformed your body into that of a ragdoll, slumped over and limp, moving only as the train car swayed. Your limbs felt disconnected from your torso, which was why you barely registered the urgent grasp around your wrist.

“Hmm?” You blinked awake, blurred vision sharpening to reveal Eddie’s hand holding yours. No, not holding it; he was moving it. Moving it away from the denim that creased along his inner thigh.

“Shit, I—” Humiliation stole your words, stabbed at them with its forked tongue and left you scrambling for an explanation. “I didn’t mean to.”

Eddie’s own cheeks turned a rosy pink, as though his fingers had been accidentally creeping towards the inseam of your jeans. “No, I—I know,” he stammered, clocking the horror on your face and offering a sheepish smile. Your fingertips burned where he’d touched them, where you’d touched him.

There was no way you could sleep after that, your body far too alert despite the ever-increasing weight of your eyelids. You sat up straighter; as you did, Eddie placed your backpack on his lap. When you reached for it, he shook his head and pulled back slightly, and your brows furrowed at your misinterpretation.

“I got it,” he said, a hoarseness in his voice that you weren’t able to place. “You can keep resting.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yup,” he answered too quickly, wrapping one arm around the bag and tugging it even closer to his chest. “S’all good.”

A strange tension lingered, one that differed from the anger that pulled the conversation taut during your last subway ride home together. Eddie was physically beside you, but his eyes searched the car like he was gearing up for another round of I Spy.

You needed to speak and move past the embarrassment that tethered you to silence.

“Eddie?” Your voice was a whisper, barely audible over the train’s clacking and your own internal monologue.

“Hmm?”

You swallowed. “Why didn’t you tell me about going to see your old band?”

Eddie froze, his arm still tight around your bag; for a moment, you wondered if you crossed the line.

Finally, he spoke. “Didn’t want to.”

An answer and a non-answer simultaneously, telling you to back off. But you’d be damned if you let today’s progress be soured.

“I wouldn’t have judged you.” Slowly, you let your eyes fall on him, noticing his fingers picking at a loose thread on his jeans. “You don’t have to tell me. But just so you know.”

He nodded, and you prayed he absorbed the reassurance as it traveled from your lips to his ears. His response was not what you expected, although nothing with Eddie has gone to plan thus far.

“Why haven’t you told your parents about school?”

He knocked you off-kilter despite his calm tone; surprisingly, there was no judgment from him, either. “I don’t want to disappoint them.” When Eddie just looked at you, palms open and brows raised, you realized you’d just answered your own question. “How would you seeing Death’s Echo disappoint me?”

“I dunno.” One scuffed sneaker squeaked against the floor. “I talked a big game about how the music industry is all bullshit and how I didn’t care about the band anymore, but…”

“You miss it,” you filled in.

He sucked his lips to his teeth before nodding. “I miss it,” he said with a reluctant chuckle. “I miss it so fuckin’ much.”

Exhaling a long breath, he continued. “I mean, I really don’t miss being the record label’s bitch. And I hate the thought of being a sellout. But nothing beats that adrenaline rush you get when you walk on stage and the crowd is screaming your name, or when they sing your lyrics back to you. Lyrics you wrote.”

You stayed silent for a minute, letting the heaviness of his statement sink in. Important. He felt important, wanted, needed. Without saying so, it was evident that working at the motel would never give him that same satisfaction. No amount of desecrated wasp nests or perfectly glued wallpaper could ever compare to the cheers of adoring fans.

“It’s not over, you know. Your chance to have that again.”

Eddie’s eyes locked onto yours, chocolate irises swimming with a juxtaposing combination of hope and defeat. “No one’s exactly lining up to sign me,” he said.

“They will.” You smiled, lips together. “You’re too talented to slip under the radar.”

He returned the smile, reaching out his pinky and interlocking it with yours as a thank you. You gave it a tiny pulse in recognition.

“The other night…” Eddie started. He still looked at you, but the twitch of his nose told you that it was harder to hold than before. “I shouldn’t have said that you’d treat your clients badly.”

“It’s fi—”

“It’s not.” Eddie’s voice was stern, unwavering, but not cold. “And I’m sorry.”

Your pinky remained wrapped around his. “We both said some shitty things that we didn’t mean,” you offered.

“Yeah.” The right side of his mouth turned up, not a full smile, but one filled with compassion nonetheless. “Forgive and forget?”

You cocked your head to give him a knowing look. “One other thing to know about New York women,” you said, “we might forgive, but we never forget.”

Eddie’s half-smile turned into a grin, and he leaned in closer to whisper. “Y’know, for a bookworm, you’re kind of a badass.”

Trying to ignore the now-familiar tingles that accompanied his tobacco-scented breath on your ear, you resumed your previous position of your head on his shoulder, humming in agreement. There was no hiding how pleased you felt from his praise, his newfound ability to see you beyond a singular dimension.

He peered down at you, his lips brushing your scalp. “Still tired?”

“Not really.”

He chuckled, leaning back in his seat and stretching out his legs in front of him. “Okay, then,” he murmured, and from the subtle movement in his jaw, you knew he was still smiling as he said it.

Consciousness was a drifting cloud, one that passed overhead quickly to make room for thunderous exhaustion. The storm hit the moment you walked into your room as you flung your backpack and your body onto the bed.

Your eyes didn’t flutter closed like a fairy tale princess; they snapped shut like an iron gate, impenetrable to any forces.

Including a clock radio alarm.

12:09

The digital numbers stared at you, harsh and blinding, as though they also couldn’t believe the time. The alarm you’d set for 9 PM was clearly ineffective, seeing as you were over two hours late to work.

“Shit!” Whatever spell had enchanted you instantly broke, and you jolted out of bed with such ferocity that you briefly saw stars.

You smoothed down your T-shirt from where it wrinkled against the starchy comforter. Chalky white deodorant remnants stained the black fabric, right along your ribcage, and you hastily undressed and threw on the nearest clean shirt.

Sleep tainted your tongue and dried saliva decorated the corner of your mouth, your slumber so deep that you’d drooled.

“Son of a bitch,” you grumbled, grabbing your toothbrush from its place at the sink and brushing just long enough to chase away the stale taste.

Was Mom still at the desk? Did Dad have to take over your shift? Had they both assumed you’d show up on time and left the desk unmanned for what they thought would only be a few minutes?

Your blood ran cold. Anyone could have taken a key off of the wall, could have broken into the register and taken what little money you had…

Feet flying, you push open your door and squint to adjust to the harsh hallway lighting.

Before you did anything else, you needed to apologize profusely to whatever parent had the misfortune of still being behind the desk. Offer to do some extra chores, or take on a few hours of their shift.

But that plan is stalled when you run into the lobby and see neither your mom nor your dad. Only Eddie, hunched over a stack of scribble-filled papers.

When he hears your panicked footsteps, he looks up and grins cheekily. “Morning, Sunshine.”

You would have flipped him off if it weren’t for the overwhelming relief that your mistake hadn’t burdened your parents.

“You know,” he continued, tapping his pen against his teeth, “this gig isn’t half bad. I’m almost finished with these lyrics.”

Your eyes blinked rapidly of their own accord. “Why didn’t anyone wake me up?”

Eddie snorted. He put his pen down on the desk and folded his arms across his chest. “Sweet, naive Sleeping Beauty,” he tutted, adopting a playful tone. “I knocked on the door not once, not twice, but thrice to no answer.”

“Thrice?” You raised a brow at his formal word choice.

“Thrice.” He held up three fingers and wiggled them for emphasis. “But I figured you must really need the sleep, so…” He gestured vaguely as if to say, here I am.

One foot in front of the other, right arm still crossed over the left and showing off a litter of inked bats, he sauntered over to you. “I believe this is where you thank me for saving your ass.”

He was teasing, though he did deserve your gratitude, but your mind only focused on the reason why.

“My parents—”

“Adore me,” Eddie cut in with a knowing grin. “Even gave me the whole ‘any friend of our daughter’s is a friend of ours’ spiel.”

There was that word again: friends. It rubbed you raw, salt on an open wound, and it stung even more coming from his mouth.

Eddie remained oblivious to your inner turmoil, still ranting about his successful encounter. “Maybe I should be thanking you, since this scored me some major points.”

It was a lifeline; something onto which you could latch instead of letting your thoughts spin in never-ending circles. “Well, then, you’re welcome.”

He noticed the hesitation, even without the context of its cause. “Look, you got a few extra hours of sleep and nothing happened. The place didn’t burn down, didn’t spontaneously combust, and I only accepted one bad check.”

“You what?!”

Eddie guffawed at your widened eyes. “Kidding. Besides,” he added, “you wouldn’t even know it bounced until you took it to the bank.”

“Go fuck yourself.” But the corners of your mouth turned up in a smile, betraying the annoyance you’d tried to present.

“Will do.” He gave a small salute, two fingers to his forehead, and grabbed his papers off of the desk. “But before I get to that, we need to talk about you not going to your graduation.”

For a moment, you forgot about Nora’s comment earlier that day. It seemed like weeks ago, rather than mere hours. “I can’t.”

Eddie quirked a brow. “Can’t talk about it or can’t go?”

“Both.”

He blew out a breath, equal parts frustration and disappointment. Like he was invested in this, perhaps more so than you were.

It was enough to pull a genuine explanation from you. “I can’t afford the cap and gown,” you said, “and even if I could, the ceremony starts at nine in the morning. That’s when I sleep.”

He nodded, incisors digging into his lower lip while he digested the information. “So…you’re not doing anything to celebrate?”

“Not having to drag my ass to classes anymore is celebration enough.” Until graduate school starts, you thought wryly, the sinking feeling returning to your stomach.

Eddie wasn’t accepting that answer, shaking his head so his curls were a brunette blur across his face. “No. No.” His tone was insistent, teetering on the brink of stern. “You worked hard, and you should do something fun.” He chewed on the inside of his cheek as he considered his options, his brown eyes sparkling as an idea came to him. “Let me take you out for a drink.”

“With what money?”

He scoffed playfully. “I think I can splurge on one drink. No specialty cocktails, though.” He pointed his forefinger in your direction, emphasizing his point. “And house liquor only.”

You wanted to–more than anything, you wanted to. Each weekend, you felt taunted by the sounds of friends traipsing down the street, sharing inside jokes and making memories that would either last a lifetime or be washed away with a few more beers. It was an experience you’d never had, but there was little time for friendship outside of school.

“I can’t,” you said finally, feeling just as dejected as Eddie looked. “My shifts start at ten.”

“So I’ll get you back by ten,” Eddie said with a shrug, no big deal. “And it’s one drink; ‘s not like you’re gonna be wasted.”

You hesitated before responding, your brain already churning out a thousand excuses to bail.

I’ll be too tired.

I don’t want to smell like booze when I’m working.

I have a cult meeting right before my shift.

“I…yeah, okay. I can do that.”

Eddie nearly did a double-take at your acceptance; truthfully, you surprised yourself.

“Oh, uh, yeah. Sure.” He cleared his throat and regained his composure with astonishing speed. “I’ll pick you up at 8 tomorrow?”

You shook your head. “The bars around here always overcharge on weekends. Let’s do Monday.” And maybe by then I’ll conjure up a solid escape plan.

He grinned, jogging back to the desk and grabbing his pen. “Monday…8 PM…Heiress.” You watched as he wrote the words on his palm, going over the spots where the ink flow weakened.

Eddie’s hand found yours, left fingers grasping your wrist to keep you steady, his right fingers busy decorating your skin in black ink. His tongue poked out from between his lips as he focused on writing without applying too much pressure, and you tried not to squirm whenever the pen grazed a ticklish spot.

When he pulled back, your own palm bore a near-identical message to his:

Monday 8 PM Eddie

Like you could forget.

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crystaldivination · 1 year

Text

"𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐐𝐔𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒"

› 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 ＆ 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐲 𝐡𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧. 𝐌𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐬 𝐯𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 ‹

𝆩 pick a cards 𝆩 paid services 𝆩 leave a tip

𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐥𝐞𝐟𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝟏, 𝟐, 𝟑,

𝟒, 𝟓, 𝟔

Hello lovelies, it’s been a while. I wanted to put in some effort and provide you guys with a good content that longer is than usual so I came up with this pick a card reading based on one of my paid services option that you can also purchase for a minimum price. I hope y'all like this and would love to hear what you think about it. Enjoy and I’m sending you lots of love your way! 🤎

ℒ 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥 𝐧𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟐𝟑𝟑 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 ℒ

— "the power of divine connection and a sign from the heavens that our inner wisdom can help us find our soulmate" —

— "love and your connection with someone is about to change for the better" —

𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞? As always meditate or close your eyes before looking at each picture. Trust your intuition and pick out a picture you feel the most drawn to.

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: this is a general reading which may or may not resonate with you. Take what resonates and leave out anything that doesn't. Feel free to choose another pile if you'd like.

𝐏𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟏 — 𝐜𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐞 & 𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦

♥︎ ♥︎

ℒ book the same reading as 'Soul calling' for 4€ from my enchanted door ⊂🍸⊃

♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

How do I not think about you? I long for you. Is this what being in love feels like? I smile even though you’re not mine. It’s already late but I’m still looking at the ceiling, tossing and turning endlessly. I’m lying on my bed hugging someone’s smile feeling so restless until the morning. Can you see how foolishly I’m holding my face while smiling wide? Each night I’m dreaming of standing next to you in the pink spring sun. Time passes by quickly that I don’t even notice and brings me sorrow and nostalgia. I called your name softly, painted my own hope. A stream of emotions rushed inside me by the time I realized that I’m in love with you. I had to do something about it, don’t you think? But instead I’m still keeping it to myself as I have no one to share with. Insecurities are filling me up as to how you’d think of me and see me after you know. It’s sad but kind of funny. You know the stars in the sky are my only friends who listened to me babbling about a first love as beautiful as a dream. I don’t usually write but for the first time I’m finding myself fantasizing about writing you poems to confess my love for you. My feelings are overflowing for you that I even forget my hunger at the thought of you. I’m singing alone like a fool.

Can I hold your soft hands for once? I imagine about your rare eyes that are shining so brightly and looking up at me. Just thinking about this makes my heart beat so fast as if it’d explode. Turns out when we love someone even if it’s a one-sided love, even if I can’t let go, I still find myself laughing and smiling at 3 am. Just hug me, please hug me. Hug me in my dreams. Just that only already makes me crazy happy like you’re right beside me. My body is burning up for you, because of you. Like a fever how it seems like I'm with you. I’m about to write you some sweet verses and want you to name it. How would you name me too? I want you to call me names. Missing you, wanting you so much right now. Like crazy, what to do now? You keep making me go crazy. I can’t concentrate, my mind keeps wandering elsewhere. I’m always elsewhere. How much is it enough to be lonely filled with thoughts? Me stupidly loving you on my own, loving you to the point of not caring how much time and how many days have passed.

Love your eyes, love your lips and here I’m still denying it. My shy heart unreliably continues to beat the wrong heartbeats. More and more each day. My love for you grows each day. Want to hold those hands once. I’m letting myself immersing and getting lost in each soft and soothing verses describing you. Even the stars can understand how in love I am with you. You’re as beautiful as an angel. As if you’re an angel. My angel. If only…if only… What can I do? Please tell me. All these delusions and hallucinations are making me high. I’m love sick with you. Touch me, love me, kiss me if you can. Do anything to me just don’t do nothing. I’m tired of not having you but I can’t stop my greediness. Please look at me. Do you even notice me? Is this love? Can this be love? Who am I to not give in… You’re making me feel this type of way just for it to be nothing at the end. The more hurt I am, the more I want you though. My insatiable thirst for you tortures me. Please be mine. I’m here waiting for you.

Channeled songs:

• Like Crazy (English Version) — Jimin

© 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 𝐜𝐫𝐲𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ── all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, edit, alter, or redistribute my work. Plagiarism in any form is prohibited. Any illegal attempt to violate these terms will result in immediate legal action.

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𝐏𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟐 — 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐥 𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡 𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐬

♥︎ ♥︎

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I should’ve known better. Can’t even pretend like I don’t want it again. You’re on my brain all the time. Thinking about what all we could do. You did something to me 'cause this doesn’t happen too often. Something that makes me look at you too often. And baby you can give it something. My heart, my mind and my body is saying…my mind and my body is saying…my mind and my heart is saying… I don’t know what it is. I can’t tell you what it is but you got me going crazy. I’m talking crazy. I need you right now. It’s the way that your body moves, your hands touch, your lips look, your gazes hypnotize me. Love me nice and slow baby. I want to feel all the love you’ve got for me. You make me wanna replay all of the things that you and I, we do. Baby come through my phone. Tell me how much you miss me, how much you want me and I’ll make it come true. Put it down on me. Look at what you make me wanna do. Drop everything and everyone for you. Got my feeling running on the loose, wild. This ain’t what I’m really used to but I like it. If it’s you I’m all yours. I’m all in.

Let me pull out this car for you. Let us go on a race but let’s make it long and slow. Are you ready for this marathon baby? Let me hear you say "pull it". Are you waiting to get some more? I want to hear it. Beg me, lovely cupcake. I want to see you on a whim. Can I see that look on your face? The one that would say "chase me". How you wanna play this, baby? Baby you can ride all the time. I want to be in trouble, how about you? Promise me you don’t trip cause I want it to last forever. Show me how good of a troublemaker you can be, baby. I think too often about you baby, let’s cuddle up afterwards. Tell me about your day while I softly kiss your neck. Truly love you, do you know how much I love you? It’s not just the s*x and how our body move together and collide. Just know that I’m serious with you. I still remember the moment you lit up in a smile or those moments when you show signs of jealousy. I will remember them forever until I’m still with you and beside you. Even if we’re apart my heart is still yearning and waiting for you. Your love changed me, calling and waking up my peace. I’m missing you. Funny just how many stories can be made out from us for all that we’ve experienced and those nights hoping for you, dreaming about you.

I don’t need much in life. Just need you to understand me and know that I always and will always love you because in me there is only you. You’re my only reason. Saving you thousands of heartfelt lyrics and poems. I would give you all the sunrays and cool breezes you need. You’ve awoken me, the glow in me so i’m trying to be an inspiration to you, your kind of inspiration. I will help you find a passion that’s more beautiful than that I have for you in my dream. Forget all those worries because I’ll be there and follow you like a shadow wanting to guide your steps on a long path with only us two. I wanna be in your arms. I think I’m under your spell cause every time I’m near you my heart starts to roll, I always want more. You’re my heaven and my hell but I won’t deny, I won’t be scared. We can head deeper, seeing what there is more to know. I won’t hear or see anything else other than your heartbeats next to mine. There’s no forgetting you. I won’t quit you, I can’t and I’m not gonna regret it. Lay me down, bare me naked. You can take away my heart. Feel my burning desire in me for you. You make me want to risk it all for you and I’ve made up my mind. I’m gonna take that risk and risk it all for you my baby.

Channeled songs:

• Quit (ft. Ariana Grande) — Cashmere Cat

PS. I literally heard this whole song while channeling their messages so I decided to include specific fragments of it in the reading. The song could be in some way significant for them/for you and/or for your connection whether this be a display of their current energy (for you) or the dynamic between you both OR it could just be that what they wanted to say match these lyrics a little too well 🤷🏻‍♀️

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𝐏𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟑 — 𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞

♥︎ ♥︎

ℒ book the same reading as 'Soul calling' for 4€ from my enchanted door ⊂🍸⊃

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I do whatever you say. Do whatever you want me to. Baby I'm okay. You can break my heart in two. If your heart has been broken before, let me put it back for you. Look into my eyes, open up your mind. I won’t tell a lie, I won't make you cry. I won’t be someone to make you worry each night. You don’t have to stay up at night waiting for me 'cause I won’t come home late to you. Won't you hold my hand? It never felt so right for me. I need you here tonight. Whisper sweet nothings into my ear while I make you feel so good like you’re on cloud nine. I will take you to heaven. Won’t you answer me? It doesn’t really matter because I got plans to get to know you better. Baby let's make what we got here last forever 'cause I don't wanna let you go, never. Dearest darling I just wanna be the one to do you right. We're standing here looking at each other, baby, eye to eye. Baby, I hope that you're thinking about giving me a chance with you tonight. You know how to do it so well that I don't know if I could ever get enough.

You belong with me. We belong to each other. Every place you go, I’ll follow. I’d be there. Can you trust me? Whenever there’s a shadow in your heart I’ll talk to you before your heart sinks. When it appears I’ll come running to you. I told you I’ll be your rescue. I’ll come to your rescue. When your heart feels heavy I’ll lift it up for you. We don’t need to do anything. Let’s just not do anything. If you change your mind I’ll grab onto your waist. I will hold you tight enough for you not to be able to slip away. I want to embrace you and let you feel love. And if you’re okay with it I’ll kiss you hard and soak in your scent. I wanna fall asleep drenched with your warmth and softness. Wrap your head around my neck. I’ll hold your mind so you won’t have bad dreams. I’ll hold your body so you won’t think of anything else. When you lean onto me I can feel the cool breeze of yours blew over me. A beautiful melody passes through my ears. Morning with you…it’ll be beautiful. Just like magic how your body feels on mine.

The way you love is one of a kind. Your love is healing. I feel safe with you and you make me come every time. I’ll pat your head and kiss your forehead like aftercare. You’re the only person I ever think about, nobody else compares. I want to get to know every side of you. I’m going to sit at the table and dream. Just like this again. I want the night to come earlier. You make my days better. I want you to give me more once again. So I hope you’ll come into my arms again. What words can I use to describe you? My heart is too deep. Can you come inside my mind? Will I be able to rise in your heart? I live through you. I’ll hold your heart. I can be a safe haven, an anchor for you to feel secured and stable. I’ll ease your mind and make you feel good all the time. I’ll wait until the moment you say "I feel the same way as you". I’ll be your song. Or a reassurance. Anytime in your ears. It will stay until you fall asleep. Until I can see you telling me with a smile that you feel the same way…until then.

Channeled songs:

• Adore (ft. Ariana Grande) — Cashmere Cat

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𝐏𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟒 — 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐞

♥︎ ♥︎

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Is it already too late? I can’t stop myself from losing you. Tell me if you still want me and if you still need me. If only I didn't let go of your hand… If only you didn’t waver and I didn’t let myself waver from all the unimportant outside noises that came in between us. If only we didn’t run away at that time, what could’ve been out of us now?… If only we didn’t hide our weaknesses that we didn’t want the other to see. If we were brave enough to show what we didn’t ask each other. If only we didn’t keep it in us, keep it to ourselves. Would something have changed if we locked lips and kiss passionately just like the first time? If only at that time we didn't act like we were okay. If only we haven’t tried to fight it and didn’t pretend like everything didn't hurt as if our love ain't worth the risk… If only the world wasn't so evil to us, didn't let us be weak because we were too used to being on guard and bear with everything. The cuts have not healed but we pretended to be strong, no longer knew how to cry. And if only I wasn't so paranoid that one day you would disappear. If only I weren't hung up on the fact… If only you had proven to me that I was the only one. If only you would show me that I was the only one for you and if only I trusted you, you trusted me, we trusted each other then would you still be by my sidе? Would we still be together? Still laugh when we hear and see each other's names? Then would we still be madly in love, madly love like the first day we come to each other? Like the first day we fell in love, like the first day we were together?

Nights when I laid awake to pray, when you were all I’m thinking of. Days when I promised that whatever happens, I will still love you. I promised you no matter what may happen, I’ll love you. If that were true, would we still be in love? If only at that time we didn't let go of each other's hands… I’m thinking about if only at that time we didn't run away and if only at that time we weren't like that. Maybe, maybe... If I didn’t let you go. If only you and I had stayed. If only we didn't go that way… But maybe everything had to happen like that so I could learn to love myself. It’s time I have to admit that I have always been lying to my heart. Because if you wanted to, you would, but you didn't. It’s time for me to realize that I’ve been lying to myself 'cause it was easy to see but you were running from me. I hate the way I made excuses for every time you were so heartless. I hate the way I defended you every time you were so thoughtless. I hate the way I always said I was ok when I was lonely. I hate that I acted like that. I hate the way I felt humiliated and drown in self-pity. Hate cruel public opinions, hate thinking about you so much. I hate how I kept thinking about you too often. Hate to keep silent, pretending like I don't care.

But I still feel bad, cause it’s not just you. I’ve also made mistakes many times too, please forgive me. You and I we both know, we were not perfect. I didn’t want to let you down. You know I'll never be perfect. I never want to see you hurting. Promised you things that are now just a fantasy, a dream, forgive me. Promises I couldn’t keep, forgive me. Had to walk away to heal myself, forgive me. Forgive me for shutting you out so I could hold me. Found a new love and I hope you’ll forgive me. Forgive me for allowing myself to receive a new love and taking care of myself. Learn how to take responsibility for my own emotions, forgive me. Appreciate all the things that I have, all that I have now, forgive me. I hope you can do that too. So that one day we can see each other again, go back to each other. So that one day we can come back to each other again, smile at each other when we meet eyes even if we are no longer madly in love like the first day we were together. But we can get to know each other again like from the start. No more fears or doubts like before. Maybe one day you’ll hold me tight. Maybe one day we’ll do it right. How do you feel?… about it? What do you think?… about it? How do you like it?…

I hope we can meet again. We’re bound to meet again. That’s what I think. Love is pain, love is forgiveness. Love is an experience, a journey and I hope there’s a silver lining to ours as well. I’m still with you…

Channeled songs:

• Lose you to love me — Selena Gomez • Back to you — Selena Gomez

PS. These songs can describe the dynamic & feelings of both parties towards each other so the songs can be relevant for both of you

Side note: I got told that the messages for this pile match a song called © "neu luc do" by tlinh. I didn’t know of it until now but that’s what I heard while channeling the respective messages. Since this pac is based on songs anyway, just like pile 2 where I heard one whole song and included fragments of it in the readings as they seem to be important and really specific based on it, here it could also be that the subject of these messages identifies with the song hence I picked up these "lyrics" from their mind. I didn’t and don’t at all intend to steal anybody’s work!

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𝐏𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟓 — 𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞

♥︎ ♥︎

ℒ book the same reading as 'Soul calling' for 4€ from my enchanted door ⊂🍸⊃

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Didn't say a word but I seem to know what you want. Just tell me, if it's not a miss, I might accidentally also like it. Don't look at me as if it’s something new like the first time when everywhere in this body you’re already used to. If you’ve already forgotten then I have an idea… what about we get to know each other again so you can get used to it again? I like your vibe, you know I’m a fan. I like your style and what you wear. I bet you’d look good even in mine but i don't like them on you or me tonight. I might like it better if I can trace your line and paint your silhouette on me. So you don’t need your clothes on anymore. I want to take a look inside you. Let’s strip them clothes down for me. I don’t need any clothes on let’s just strip them down together. We don’t need them clothes at all, our bodies intertwine together would be enough. I won’t let you wait, let’s take off our clothes. No need for anyone to wear anything tonight. You might keep on that thong when we get passionate and so in love. If you like that babe, that thong can stay. Promise you can have access to every inch of me, darling. Show me devotion when we devote oneself to each other. You know you always get my special treatment.

You keep me so connected to you darling. One touch of me can give you the answers to all your questions. Don’t let anything get in between us 'cause this is what we’ve been waiting for so long. I’m gonna treat you right. Open up your mouth when I put my lips on you. Kiss me deeply while I savor every taste of yours. We can be reckless, restless until the morning. No way it’s too much for me. Wanna make you cry for me. Darling, cry for me. You know you turn me on like no one does. I know you like to show so shine for me. Darling you’re my main character. My absolute no. 1 private dancer. No one gets to finish when both are so stubborn. You know me and I know you. How come I met someone like you? You’re a keeper, a good catch and everything I’m looking for. For you I won’t bottle things up. For you I want to be honest. You deep down know we are made for each other, right? I want to make your heart smile. To have you is like to have the stars. You’re absolutely beautiful and adorable. You shine like the moon at night. You shine on me with empathy and care. I’m never alone with you.

I know you’re rare and precious that’s why I want to love you right. You know by time you should be in my arms right now. I’ll hold you like I can’t let go. I’ll keep you safe and sound. Treat you soft and gently. To love and be with you is like to dance with the stars. Do you want to fly away with me where it’s only us two? My treasure, with you I am me. Call me and say my name so I can make you my baby and show you real love. I’mma show you how to love. It feels like I’m seeing fireworks for the first time when I see you. Your body speaks to me, I can’t hide it. I’ll go down on you and take you places. Turn off the light. Tell me babe how you want it, you decide. Darling get ready 'cause you won’t be disappointed.

Don’t you know that You and I are the infinite symbol that equals forever? Turn it around and forever has the same meaning as you’re the love of my life.

Channeled songs:

• Energy — BURNS, A$AP Rocky & Sabrina Claudio

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𝐏𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟔 — 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 & 𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐬

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Do you see the temperature increasing? Heart beats faster because you walk in. My ribcage increases and my lips are shaking. This body doesn’t seem like me whenever near you. When you touch my skin lightly, that feeling, no one can do that. No one can compare, I hope you know that. It must be that scent, must be that shoulder and those contacts. Oh am I not the luckiest? No need to say much I think you know. If you want to be pampered, i’ma make it work for you. Lightly tinged the room with the color of love. I want you to hold me tight and don't let me go. Love me right. You make me feel so high. You are only allowed to be like this with me alone. I’m losing myself in this moment with you. No in every moment with you. I will take you all the way to Cali. Maybe you can call me daddy/mommy/yours. Come to me. With me here there’s nothing you have to be worried about. (beep beep beep) do you hear the sound of my temperature rising? (trip trip trip) my hands are tighter again.

Hypocrite I know, I pretend to be indifferent but do you know that under all the masks that I’m wearing to hide my true self, I act wild and crazy for you? I’m freaking out but I like how you make me freak out. I like the feeling how you can make me act out of my usual self. Let’s forget about all our characters and drop all the manners. Just say how you want it sweetheart, I can take you there. Let me show you how my body yearns for you. I want to do this only to you. We can be freaky, kinky and nasty, whatever you like. Foreplay with you, there is really no way around it. One of my utmost favourite things to do might be to fill you up to the brim. You do things to me that I never imagined. I wanna show you how I get down. I’ll kiss every inch of you and run my hands up and down your entire body. Do you want to feel it? I know you want me and so do I. I might as well steal you from you. Get down with me. I just want to steal your heart and sneak an arm around your waist and claim you as mine. You’re my simple pleasure, just like the breeze on my face or the fragrance of flowers. Tell me if i ever cross your mind then I’ll tell you how I want us to be each other’s guilty pleasure everyday. Sweetheart you got the sweetest heart I’ve ever seen or felt before. Keep your lips tight only for me. I know you like to dream so let’s make our dream a beautiful place where we pour out our intimacy for each other and slowly reveal a little bit of our heart’s desire and secrets to each other. I’m totally enamoured by you.

You’re so delicate. I want to love all of you. I want to be your protector. I want to take care of you. My heart longs for a beautiful soul like you. There is telepathy between our hearts. I only want to make you smile and laugh all the time because then I’ll be happy when you’re happy. I want to mold myself into you. I want our souls to be one. I will look you in the eyes and make you feel seen for who you’re meant to be. Like for the first time I will make you feel like everything is alright. I can be that soothing energy you’re looking for. I want to give you all of me. You’re my remedy. I couldn’t ask for more. I feel your energy with me often. My world is being shaken up by you. Do you want me the way I want you? I want to declare my love for you. You know the saying "There will be a day when we meet our own version on someone else" and I think I’ve found me in you. My desire is you and only you. From the bottom of my heart, i want you to know that you are the one i have been waiting for, the missing piece that completes my soul. You know how to make me fall for you just like that. I want to love you for who you are. I will do that because that’s how I love myself and accept my flaws so I can give you the same thing as well. I will learn how to love you wholeheartedly. I’ll understand all of your flaws. Will you let me in? You’re special. If you’re going through some rough patches just know that experiencing things that you don't want makes you clear about what you do want so keep going. I’m here cheering you on.

Channeled songs:

• Honesty — Pink Sweat$

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vitaminseetarot · 4 months

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PAC: What Hobby Should You Begin Next? 🎨🛶📯

Sup y'all, it's time for a new pick a card reading (this one's especially for you night owls out there as I'm posting this at midnight lol). Ideally, I'd like to post one PAC every week after this but eh, lettuce see about that. 🥬👀

This pick a card was inspired by the remaining energies of late Taurus season. The grass is bright, the air is warm, the flowers are blooming, and it's brought out the artist in me. While I've been finishing a leisure painting, I stopped to draw out some cards to help out anyone who's in the mood to do something fun in their spare time but could use some direction or guidance.

Pick any one of the four Prism Oracle cards below, or its corresponding crystal/emoji, to see what hobby you could explore next, or if there is a hobby you enjoy that is calling for your attention:

Pile 1 - Consciousness + Moonstone 🌙 Pile 2 - Happiness + Carnelian 😊 Pile 3 - Creativity + Amethyst 🎉 Pile 4 - Determination + Citrine 🧭

Pile 1 - Consciousness + Moonstone 🌙

77 Beginnings, Sound+Resonance+Frequency, The Musician, Capricorn Rising - Aspire; Page of Swords, Page of Wands, 9 of Cups, Knight of Swords, XI Justice

Wow, pile 1, I think you have the most obvious answer of all four piles. You're very drawn to pursuing something musical. It could be in a variety of ways. You might try singing, writing a song, playing an instrument, learning to dance, or perform in musical theater (the purple curtain in the Justice card definitely brings theater to mind). You could enjoy collecting vinyl records, or producing music through special programs and apps. You may desire to publish your music online, or dream of going big on stage and signing major contracts with labels. Two Pages tells me you're most likely into more than one thing, as plenty of musical artists can multitask.

Your pile was the only one to get two Prism cards at first as Anxiety initially wanted to pop out. It's also clear that with two Pages and the Beginnings card, you're very new at this hobby. There's an over awareness of this fact, that on some level you may not know where to even start. There's some doubt I sense that you feel you can't be at the level you wish to stand on. Capricorn energy wants to reach for the very top of the ladder in accomplishment; it is a steady energy although not intent on settling. I get that there are many people here who greatly look up to an artist and wish to have their same talents. Try to look past the smoke and mirrors of all the top 40's singers and know that music is way more accessible than it's made to look.

Try embracing the newness of this pursuit, pile 1. It's okay to be a little lost, or feel that there's a long way to go. The only way to go pro is to start small and grow. There are a lot of free resources online for learning music (try out musictheory.net for free lessons) and free vocal technique lessons on Youtube. Some people are very lucky to have the chance to start learning at a young age, but if we were to set a rule stating that only those who did so could play, that would leave a lot of creative geniuses and successful musicians out of the frame. If you're learning to play the keyboard, practice one song or even one note at a time (doesn't have to be Chopsticks, lol). Consistency is key.

When the inspiration and joy to explore music finally strikes you, take the time to really dive in and make something small. If you're trying to write a song, start with a jingle. If it's music theory you want to go over, start with just 1 lesson and see how it feels. If you're learning to dance, begin with warm ups and slow music before working on the more intense songs. Are you looking for writing inspiration? Keep plenty of notes on hand and learn how to identify music so you can easily write a melody down (there are empty music notebooks for this). If this is something you would like to do in the long term, then continue to practice with that perspective by not overdoing it to compensate for "lost time". You are exactly where you need to be on your creative journey.

Pile 2 - Happiness + Carnelian 😊

66 The Selves, You Belong Here, The Wise One, Cancer Moon - Intuit; X Wheel of Fortune, Sagittarius ♐, VI The Lovers, 9 of Pentacles, XVI The Tower

What's going on, pile 2? With the Selves card above Sagittarius, I'm getting that a lot of you may be interested in pursuing theater or comedy, whether that's stand up or it's simply channeled through the projects you create. Your next hobby may involve incorporating a lot of humor into what you do. This pile is the most multifaceted of the four, with many differing hobbies, so I'm going to list a variety of different talents, but what binds them all together is the need to express one's own (very) strong opinions for the world to see.

You may want to be a photographer who documents unusual things, or write something that makes a powerful statement. There's a need here to let go of any of the anxieties that come with expressing your authentic self, because while those feelings are natural, listening to them too much will dampen your creative drive. This is the group that wants to make very surreal graffiti art or provocative dance routines. With the Tower card, here, I feel there's a need for the shock and awe to get your inspiration buzzing. On the gentler side, I can see some of you getting into something nature based like flower printing and permaculture but the caveat is that it's a reflection of your genuine self and beliefs in some way. With Wheel of Fortune, some of you may feel an urge to learn about tarot or pendulum reading, as these things are typically categorized as "unusual".

You may also get into traveling to stay involved in your hobby, or it requires roving about in some way. To break down creative blocks, it might help to actually move yourself to a different location. It doesn't necessarily involve moving to a whole new place, it could just refer to another part of your home or you may benefit from walking or dancing to decompress. I feel that moving your body will stimulate your creative ideas to flow through. A small number of you may have considered trying out extreme sports like free climbing or parkour. I don't really need to mention that these can be incredibly dangerous, so some of you may like something similar like skateboarding or gymnastics as well. It doesn't have to be intense, just active.

With the Lovers, there also exists a social aspect to your hobby. You may be drawn to share you hobby with a friend or with partners. It will greatly help you to be in an environment that supports your avant-garde tastes and not settle for less. It's not always easy to put shocking art with profound messages out there for the world to make sense of it, though some make it seem that way. It's easy to pretend that negative feedback doesn't get to you, but only accept constructive criticism as that will feed you more than shocked reactions. You cannot afford to have others in your life discourage you, as your skill sets require a lot of space for growth. Nourish relationships that want to celebrate your talents with you. Find a community that loves what you love, and wants to see you happy with what you do. Embrace the wild side of your artistic abilities.

Pile 3 - Creativity + Amethyst 🎉

54 Security, the Messenger, The Aspirant, Aries Sun - Assert; 2 of Pentacles, Knight of Wands, 0 The Fool, Aquarius ♒, Virgo ♍

Hello, pile 3. With the 2 of Pentacles, many of you may want to explore a hobby that is both online and offline, or the internet and social media are major components. If you like making artwork, you could be into digital art or simply want to upload images of your offline work for others to see. With Virgo, some of you may have a lot to say, by starting a blog or online journal documenting your life or interests, or you could try out freelance editing. If you were a youtuber, you could be really good at creating epically long videos about niche topics, or short videos explaining how to do a certain task (like tiktoks that showcase a person's routines and what cleaning products they recommend).

I see that this is the pile of innovation, as the Creativity card shows a lightbulb. You could have various ideas pop up in your head, only to feel unsure of how to approach them. Your attention span could split into a variety of different mediums for getting the idea out. Aquarius wants to take its genius energy and spread it around the world. For a lot of you, social media will support your ideas by broadcasting them. Your hobby may directly involve interfacing with others; your creative spark is not for hiding away. Web design, for example, is a hobby but it involves creating something that others will directly interact with. Your work is meant for a wide audience, should you choose to put yourself out there.

This may not always be easy for you, since there could be a pull towards more stable and predictable activities. There's a nervousness here, kind of like imposter syndrome. You may get a really cool idea for a mobile game app before you or someone else goes "but that's an unrealistic goal to spend so much time and effort on", followed by, "how could I ever make something like that?" The thing is, you can be the most talented, skilled, and experienced person when it comes to a subject, yet still have these same worries. Imposter syndrome doesn't magically go away with a college degree, a new job, or 10,000 subscribers. It's completely normal, but make sure to not let your doubts tempt you into doing something more boring and unfulfilling. This is the pile most likely to try a totally new hobby that is unrelated to your other skills, it doesn't have to be realistic.

But also understand that it can take time for something to get really good. Your first fiction draft is gonna turn out clunky, or your app could be filled with bugs, but it's part of the process. There's no perfect time; when you get the urge to try, just try it! Reach out to a local community or chat group so you can get a realistic sense of how long it takes for projects and skills develop. Slam poetry may be a great outlet, so if you'd like to do that, attend an open mic and see how others do it. You are allowed to be imperfect with your hobby--if you wish to evolve your craft, remember the passion and curiosity that brought you to it.

Pile 4 - Determination + Citrine 🧭

57 Spiritual Guide, What Goes Around Comes Around, The Astronomer, Taurus Rising - Enjoy; 9 of Pentacles, Cancer ♋, Queen of Swords, Knight of Wands, Knight of Swords

How's it going, pile 4? So this is the most active and possibly athletic pile we have here. Staying in the house is not gonna work because something is itching you to get out underneath the stars. Could some of you be majoring or planning in major in STEM? I'm getting a lot of natural science here. With the Astronomer card, you could want to use your telescope to go stargazing or visit planetariums. Are you still feeling the buzz from all the aurora storm and eclipse hype? It would not surprise me if these events awoke an interest for you and now you're looking up when the next meteor shower will show up or when Saturn will be most visible in the sky.

Your next hobby needs or is the outdoors on some level. But Cancer energy is that of a homebody. The most laidback people in this group may enjoy relaxing hobbies like birdwatching or gardening. These hobbies could be spiritually fulfilling for you. I'm seeing someone wearing an apron outside, so could some of you be interested in grilling or being the host to a fun party in the backyard. Do people even have book club meetings in gardens? A lot of enjoying nature is simply finding a good spot and soaking in the scenery with no other goal in mind. Just being near trees and beach sides might be enough.

But I see a lot of you mainly wish to have an adventure and go far out in nature when the weather's just right. You could be thinking about hiking or backpacking out on trails. It all depends on your comfort level as we all have different tolerance levels. I don't know if geocaching and pokemon go are still popular, but they can be unique ways to engage with the outdoors. You could try guided nature tours presented by nature conservationists like the National Audubon, where you can identify and take photos of animals as you wander through the woods and plains. You may like a hobby that is seasonally specific, like swimming in warm waters or skiing down a snowy mountain.

Your hobby may have you think deeply about how humans connect with nature, exploring the ecosystem and how our actions influence our environment. Climate change can be a very serious and, for some, directly impactful topic to mull over. Remind yourself that as long as you're respectful (leave no trace), mother nature enjoys your company as much as you do for her. A small few of you may have the urge to travel to weird locations. Two knights in your reading suggest boldness. If you decide to visit an abandoned or haunted place, Queen of Swords says to please be careful and follow rules if it says no trespassing, and remember that abandoned places can be dangerous from faulty wiring and unstable flooring. Overall, I feel this pile just can't do with an indoor hobby. You have the motivation and courage to explore the vast beautiful world out there. It awaits you.

This reading has not been evaluated by the FDA to diagnose, prevent, treat, or cure any disease or infection. Please ask your physician before going online.

2024, @VitaminseeTarot ™

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touyasdoll · 2 years

Text

Kinktober Door #1: Body Worship

Kinktober Masterlist

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x fem!reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: overstimulation, multiple orgasms, oral (f!receiving), soft/intimate sex, this got sappier than I intended

Notes: I just miss Bakugou I think lmao not a very kinky start to my kinktober, but oh well. Enjoy <3

Katsuki is sitting on the couch, scrolling through his phone with the evening news droning on in the background when you plop yourself right into his lap.

You gently guide his phone away from his face and straddle him, winding your arms around his neck like you have so many times before.

“Can I help you?” He asks as his hands gravitate to your hips, his eyes drawn to the pensive expression painted on your face.

“Do you love me?”

“What?”

He’s practically insulted by the idea that you would even ask.

“The fuck d’ya mean do I love you? Course I fuckin’ do. What kinda question even is that?”

There’s a pout on his lip when he asks and you kiss it away.

“Why aren’t you payin’ attention to me then?” You muse as your hands card through his blonde locks. “I miss you.”

“I’m sittin’ right here and you’re on my lap. What makes you think I don’t love you?” His brow cocks as his large hands slide over your hips to grip your ass and his hips shift up into yours. “You want attention, huh? Baby, all you had to do was ask.”

And with that, he stands, effortlessly lifting you up onto his waist as he carries you off towards the bedroom, a smirk dancing on his lips.

“M’askin’ now.” You grin, tightening your arms around his neck while your legs lock around his waist. “I miss you, Kats.”

“I know, princess,” he says softly, stealing a chaste kiss when he stills through the door. “But we’re gonna fix that, ‘kay?”

He lays you down, wasting no time as he crawls up your body to attach his lips to your neck, kissing along your skin in all the right places.

“M’gonna show you just how much I love every fuckin’ bit of you, so you never have to ask me that stupid fuckin’ question again,” he murmurs as his lips hover over your pulse point, nipping at the thrumming beneath his lips.

“Baby,” you whine softly, hands traveling over his bare chest as you tilt your head to the side and he takes the opportunity to kiss his way towards your collarbone.

“Do I love you,” he scoffs, shaking his head as warm, calloused palms slip beneath your top, making quick work of stripping it off of you before he sits up to kneel between your legs and rake his eyes over your body. “You got no fuckin’ clue how much I love you. I don’t think you ever will.”

His mouth finds your breasts next, mawing at the soft flesh while he free them from their confines.

“Let’s start here,” he whispers, hot breath against your skin as he takes your nipple into his mouth. “You think I don’t love these? M’always fuckin’ starin’ at ‘em. Waitin’ for the next chance I get to do this.”

His teeth catch and pull gently, sending delicious shivers down your spine while your hands knit into his hair.

“And you think I don’t love this pussy of yours?” He pulls back to look down at you as if you’d tried to assert that the sky isn’t blue. “Like my dick doesn’t twitch every fuckin’ time I think about it.”

You gasp as his hand slips into your pants and under your panties to drag his finger between your folds. Your hands grasp at his forearms, hips shifting forward to chase his touch as the pad of his digit presses against your slick entrance.

“K-Katsuki,” you whisper, voice trembling as you teen with anticipation and all you’re met with is his smug smirk.

“You oughta know better, so I’m gonna show you exactly how much I love this sweet fuckin’ cunt of yours.”

It’s a promise. One that he clearly intends to make good on, but not without having his fun tormenting you first.

“Whaddya want, princess? You want me inside you?” His voice drops as he leans in close enough that you can feel his breath on your chin. “Which part, huh?”

His lips come so close to yours, but he doesn’t close the distance and when you try, he pulls back.

“C’mon, baby. Use your words. Which part of me do you want in your pussy first? Because you’re getting all of ‘em,” he insists as his fingers migrate to your clit, drawing it in slow, agonizing circles.

“Fingers. Please,” you beg, shifting your hips again as a moan is pulled from your lungs.

“Good girl,” he praises quietly, rewarding you by slipping his middle finger right where you want it most. “Like this?”

“More, please,” you implore, sighing with relief as he indulges you and adds another.

“Gettin’ greedy already?” He smirks, slowly postponing his fingers in and out of you and his lips finally meet with yours. “You have any idea how hard you’re makin’ me? Just feelin’ your insides—hell. Just lookin’ at cha makes me wanna shove my cock in ya already. It’s hard keepin’ my hands to myself when we’re out, y’know. Watchin’ everybody look at you, but they don’t get to have this.”

His teeth catch your bottom lip as his fingers start to move faster and your spine bows beneath him. His warm, wet mouth is on your breasts again, smothering them with kisses and love bites as he relishes in the feeling of you writhing beneath his touch.

“S’all fuckin’ mine. And I’ll be damned if you don’t understand how much I treasure every single inch of you.”

Before you know it, his tongue is between your thighs, expertly spelling out all the declarations that he’s made. His tongue delves inside of you, nose bumping your clit as a groan vibrates against your core.

“Fuck. Like I wouldn’t love a pussy that tastes this sweet,” he huffs a laugh and licks a stripe up your center, letting the tip of his tongue toy with your clit.

“Katsuki,” you whine, breath escaping in an airy whisper.

The sound of his name on your lips spurs him on and he starts devouring you like he hasn’t eaten in weeks. It’s sloppy, but it’s glorious. Your fingers knit into his hair, desperate for something to hold onto you when that familiar feeling threatens to have you spiraling out of control.

“Baby. B-baby, I—fuck!” Your hips buck and his hands seize them, wrapping around your thighs to lock them down into place as he continues his efforts.

He doesn’t relent when you slap your hands to the sheets, nor when your cries echo off of the walls. It isn’t until tears run over your cheeks and your hips nearly break free of his grasp that he finally lets go and sits back on his haunches. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, revealing a smug grin as he climbs over you, staring down at your trembling form with pride gleaming in his carmine gaze.

“You okay, baby?” His voice is softer when he leans down to brush the tip of his nose against yours.

“Mhm,” you hum, eyes closed and mind still reeling when you open them again as he captures your mouth.

You taste yourself on his lips, sticky and sweet, and then again on his tongue when he works it into your mouth. Your arms wind around his neck, holding him close as he shuffles out of his sweatpants, suddenly desperate to be inside you as your mouths work against one another in a struggle for dominance.

“I love you,” he breathes out, panting when he breaks away.

His forehead falls against yours and his hand cups your face. He decides that his primal urges can wait a moment.

“I love you more than anything. And for more than just your body, y’know.”

His thumb glides against your cheek as he pulls back to look at you, his eyes searching your face. A perfect face, he thinks. You can feel your cheeks filling with warmth and the urge to look away, but you know better. He won’t let you hide from him like that.

“I love the way you laugh. The way you smile,” he goes on, a fond smile ever present on his lips. “The way you never hesitate to yell at me when I’m bein’ an ass.”

You laugh and look away, but he gently tilts your face back to focus on him, mirroring your amused smile.

“I love how smart you are. How hard you work. The way you can always make me laugh. Even the annoying shit you do that I pretend like I can’t stand,” he chuckles. “I love all that too. I love every last fuckin’ thing about you, baby. And I always will.”

“I love you too, Katsuki,” you say softly, resting your hand over the one on your face. “I love you so much.”

“I know ya do,” he whispers, his tender smile leaving a kiss on your forehead as he takes your hands in his, intertwining them as he repositions himself between your legs.

He slowly nudges himself inside you, sighing with relief when he feels the comforting warmth of your walls hugging him tight and you respond in kind, a gentle gasp leaving your lungs as your brows pinch together.

His intention is everything it wasn’t only moments ago. It’s careful and purposeful. His hips roll at a steady pace, each thrust deliberately bringing you closer to euphoria as your bodies meld together like they were made for one another.

“I love you,” he whispers in your ear, trailing kisses along your jaw as he increases the tempo.

“I love you too,” you murmur back, breath catching in your throat as you squeeze his hands tight, moaning as you begin to feel that thrumming in your ears again. “Katsuki, oh my God.”

“I know, baby. I know,” he pants, giving your hands a gentle squeeze as he drives you both right up to the edge. “Fuck, I love you.”

A few more thrusts is all it takes to do you both in. You come undone with a sob and he folds his arm beneath you, keeping one hand tight around yours while he holds you close. He grunts, hips stuttering as he pours himself into you.

You both lay there for a moment, collecting yourselves through the haze of bliss with no shortage of tender touches and contented bums.

He eventually falls to the side of you to pull you against his chest and kiss the top of your head while his fingertips glide along your spine, your nerves still singing a beautiful chorus of elation.

“Still think I might not love you?” He murmurs into your hair.

“No,” you giggle, nuzzling your face into his chest while your arm folds over his middle. “I know you do.”

If you enjoyed this, likes, comments, & reblogs are greatly appreciated! Thank you for reading <3

#kinktober 👻#katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader smut #bakugou x reader smut #bakugo x reader #bnha smut #mha smut #bnha x reader #mha x reader

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