#half of this response is just pure Words no thoughts but appreciate this take on it !! love ur mind <3 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

03jyh23 · 7 months ago

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— i love every inch of you || jeong yunho

established relationship, idol-yunho x reader

genre: fluff, suggestive

trigger warnings: none(?) but for the love of god do not interact if you're a minor

words: 1.9 k

reminder: what you’re about to read is purely fiction, so let’s keep it separate from reality.

!!!minors do not interact!!!

— hi there! so today i have nothing to say i just love yunho and that's it can somebody give him to me, please

love, monika. ♡

if you enjoyed this post, i’d be so grateful for a little love – a like, reblog or comment would truly make my day!

Yunho returned from the bathroom; a towel casually draped around his waist. You were already prepared for bed, sitting comfortably on the plush bedspread, a pillow behind your back. Your attention was initially glued to your phone's screen, but within a minute of your boyfriend entering the room, your gaze shifted. Your eyes took in the sight before you, appreciating the view. You watched the droplets of water cascading down from his dark, wet hair, trailing down his long, elegant neck, and further down to his impressively toned abs, glistening under the room's soft lighting.

"Baby, you're staring," Yunho remarked with a playful chuckle in his voice.

Caught in the act, you only smirked, unapologetically continuing your admiration. "Can you blame me?" you retorted; your voice filled with playfulness.

"No, not at all," Yunho replied, his voice laced with laughter. He gracefully moved towards you, the soft glow of the room reflecting off his damp skin, giving him an almost ethereal glow.

"You should be glad I'm not drooling over you," you teased, your words laced with playful sarcasm.

Yunho looked at you with playful disappointment, feigning offense. "Seriously? Drooling?"

You giggled, gently tugging at the edge of his loosely tied towel. "What can I say? You're quite a sight."

Shaking his head in amusement, he leaned down to press a kiss on your temple. "Well, I'll take that as a compliment, even if it makes me sound like a piece of meat."

"Not just any piece of meat," you teased, wrapping your arms around his neck to draw him closer. "A very delicious, prime cut," you whispered against his lips with a wide smile.

Yunho laughed, "I guess I should be flattered?"

"Definitely," you agreed, "And very grateful." His playful demeanor gave way to a tender expression, a gentle smile gracing his lips. He once again pressed a soft kiss, this time on your forehead, the warmth of his breath mingling with the coolness of his damp skin.

"Scoot over," he murmured, his voice low and intimate. You shifted to the side, making room for him. Yunho then sat down beside you, getting comfortable as he leaned into the headboard.

"How is it even possible for someone to be as hot as you are?" you asked, half-joking, half-serious.

Yunho leaned in closer, the corners of his mouth curving into a teasing smirk. "You flatter me too much, baby," he said, his voice a soft whisper against your ear. But you saw the faint blush creeping up his neck, and you knew your words affected him, despite his nonchalant exterior. Your fingers reached out, tracing the contours of his face as if it were the first time you saw him. His eyes closed at your touch, a content sigh escaping his lips.

''I’ve watched the interview that was aired today," you began, your tone serious and a hint of disapproval lacing your words, "and to be honest, I didn’t like it one bit."

Yunho, taken aback by your sudden comment, furrowed his brows in confusion and a mild hint of concern. "What exactly do you mean by that?" he questioned; his voice filled with genuine curiosity.

You took a moment to gather your thoughts before responding, "Well, during the interview, you mentioned that you wish you were smaller, and I found it quite… unsettling." As you spoke, you slowly moved to sit on Yunho’s lap, placing each of your knees on either side of him. In response, he put his hands on your lower back, sending shivers down your spine. Then, you leaned in to plant a soft, comforting kiss on his neck, he shivered under your kiss, amused by your brave actions. "I love every inch of you, Jeong Yunho" you declared, your eyes filled with admiration and affection. As you spoke, you gently placed featherlight kisses along his jaw, trailing downwards to his neck and collarbones, each kiss a silent testament to your love for him. Yunho tilted his head back, allowing you more access to his neck. His eyes closed, the corners of his mouth curling upward into a content smile. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer until there was no more space between your bodies. You admired the way his body reacted to your touch, his skin breaking out in goosebumps and his breath becoming slightly shallower. "I love that you're bigger than me," you murmured, your words soft against his skin. "I love the feeling of being enveloped by you, protected by you. That wouldn't be possible if you were smaller." Your fingers traced the dips and curves of his abs, eliciting a soft groan from him. Your compliments seemed to ease any insecurities he held, his body relaxing under your touch. "I love how your arms wrap around me, making me feel safe and cherished," you continued, your fingers trailing higher to his broad shoulders, "I love how your body towers over mine, it makes me feel protected." Your words were like a soothing balm, erasing any self-doubts he might have had.

He let out a soft sigh, his arms pulling you closer. His eyes met yours, and you saw a mix of relief and tenderness in them. "Thank you," he murmured, his voice a whisper against your ear. Yunho gently lifted your chin, ensuring your eyes met his. A blush was creeping onto his cheeks as he pulled you in for a kiss. His hand rested on your waist, keeping your body close to his. The kiss was soft yet passionate. You could feel the warmth of his body against yours, the rhythm of his heartbeat echoing your own. His fingers traced gentle circles on your waist, eliciting a soft sigh from you. The kiss deepened, and you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him even closer if that was even possible. His hands moved from your waist to your back, holding you securely against him. Eventually, you both pulled away for air, your foreheads resting against each other. Yunho's eyes were filled with affection as he looked at you, a soft smile playing on his lips. "I love you," he whispered, his voice filled with sincerity.

You couldn't help but smile at his words, your heart swelling with love for this man. "I love you too, Yunho," you replied, your voice just above a whisper. You leaned in to capture his lips once more. You smiled at him as you pulled away; your heart filled with nothing but love. "Never forget," you said, your voice serious, "You're perfect just the way you are." Your hand cupped his cheek, thumb gently stroking his skin. He leaned into your touch, his eyes closing at the comforting sensation. You took this opportunity to capture his lips yet again in a passionate kiss, pouring all your emotions into it. As you pulled away, you whispered, "Never wish to change anything about you." With your words, you wanted to reassure him that every part of him was loved, every flaw, every quirk, every trait that made him the man you loved.

Yunho opened his eyes, looking at you with newfound admiration and love. "Thank you," he said, his voice filled with sincerity.

"I don't want even a small inch of you to disappear," you pouted, as Yunho tenderly tucked your hair behind your ear, his eyes admiring your face. Feeling playful, you flashed him a wide smile, your fingers teasingly reaching for the hem of his towel. Yunho chuckled, catching your hand before you could go any further. "And I definitely don’t want to see your 'friend' getting smaller," you teased, your tone flirtatious.

Yunho burst into laughter at your comment, his eyes twinkling with amusement, his cheeks tinted with a faint blush at your playful remark. "Oh, is that so?" he replied, his voice teasing. "Well, lucky for you, he's more than happy to make an appearance anytime you want."

You grinned mischievously, enjoying the playful banter between the two of you. "Is that a promise?" you asked, raising an eyebrow suggestively while gently moving your hips against his crotch.

"Careful now," Yunho teased, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Someone might get the wrong idea." You laughed, leaning in to press a quick kiss to his lips.

"Oh, I think that someone is getting the right idea," you shot back, a mischievous glint in your eyes. You pressed yourself against Yunho's crotch once more, your moves bolder this time, confidence radiating in every movement. His hands tightened on your hips, a groan escaping his lips at the sensation. The playful atmosphere had shifted into something more heated, and you couldn't help but feel a thrill of excitement. You were fully aware of the effect you were having on him, his eyes darkening with desire. Steadying yourself, you grabbed hold of one of Yunho's broad shoulders, your hips pressing into him with more force, as if you were on a mission. His body responded in kind, his hands guiding your movements, a low growl escaping his lips. The room filled with the intoxicating tension between you two, the playful banter having long been replaced with a heated exchange of smoldering looks and soft gasps.

"You're driving me crazy," Yunho murmured, his voice husky as he tried to control his breathing.

You chuckled, a wicked glint in your eyes. "That's the plan." His hands moved to your waist, guiding you with a firm yet gentle grip. The rhythm of your movements became more synchronized, the shared heat between you two increasing with every passing moment. Yunho's eyes were glued to you, admiration and desire evident in his gaze. Your fingers tangled in his damp hair, tugging slightly to elicit a groan from him. Feeling Yunho's evident arousal against you, you bit your lip, your eyes meeting his. A playful smirk appeared on your lips as you teased, "Well, hello, sir."

Yunho flushed at your comment, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. "Well, he's certainly happy to see you," he retorted, a playful glint in his eyes. With a swift motion, Yunho suddenly flipped you over, his strong hands pinning your wrists above your head. The surprised gasp that escaped your lips was quickly swallowed by his, as he dipped down to claim your mouth in a passionate, fiery kiss. His lips moved against yours with a fervor that left you breathless, his tongue exploring the depths of your mouth with a dominance that was uniquely Yunho. His damp hair brushed against your forehead as he loomed over you, his eyes filled with an unspoken promise. The desire in his gaze was apparent, making your heart flutter in anticipation. You could feel his erection pressing against your thigh, and a wave of desire coursed through your body in response. Despite having your wrists pinned, you managed to wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer to you. Yunho groaned at the contact, his hips instinctively grinding against yours, causing you to gasp at the sensation. "Remember you asked for it," he whispered softly into your lips, his warm breath mixing with yours, making you shiver with anticipation. His voice, deep and husky, sent a thrilling chill down your spine, igniting a burning desire within you. His hands, strong yet gentle, traced the contours of your body, making you squirm under his touch. Every nerve in your body tingled with anticipation, and you knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that the night was only just beginning.

#ateez x reader #ateez au #ateez x y/n #ateez fanfic #yunho x you #yunho x y/n #yunho x reader #yunho fluff #ateez fluff #yunho scenarios #yunho smut

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sincerelyverena · 7 months ago

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pls pls pls charles x short!alive!reader? established relationship, maybe just some fluffy moments between the two?

⟡⁺ THE GHOST OF YOU

tysm for the req, anon! 💞💞 ive thoroughly enjoyed my return here, n now the story is yours n i hoped u enjoyed it as much as i loved writing it <3 special shoutout to my dbd betareaders, i love and appreciate all of u sm!

. . . CHARLES ROWLAND X GN!READER ‘think i like you best when you're just with me and no one else.’ @andforthecoating

inbox is always open for requests!

in whichꕀ

✦ ﹒you love him. and he loves you too. a story as simple as that.

tagsꕀ

✦ ﹒fluff ﹐short!reader﹐alive!reader ﹐established relationship ﹐im still getting a feel for charles character so go easy on me pls ﹐havent written non-smut in a long LONG time

THANK YOU TO MY WONDERFUL BETA READERS: @love-xoxojules﹐@immortal101 ﹐@fadedpictures91 ﹐@charles-rxwlands﹐ @kidbiscuitt @smallestgremlin

Falling in love with a ghost wasn’t on the cards for you, until you met Charles Rowland.

The supernatural had haunted you since you were a small child, being the victim of a near-death experience isn’t easy on any youngling. Especially you. The consequences of viewing these seemingly mythological creatures took years of patience and silent work to endure, more so, because nobody would ever believe you if you told them you saw ghosts. How ghastly.

And as a young child, you couldn’t imagine that decades into the future, you’d be laid between the arms of one. Two bronzed columns that supported the minuscule length of your torso. And for a ghost? Charles is oddly warm. Or maybe that’s you warming up to your idea of your body heat, marinating in the crisp sheets of your bed. A sanctuary the two of you now shared, together.

But it was nice to think that it was Charles too. He was the reason why you felt comfortable and protected after all. In a world of witchcraft, warlocks, dangers, and death Charles was your home.

A pair of bow-turned lips place themselves against your temple, assisting you in drifting out of sleep. Charles murmurs against the surface of your skin, planting scattered kisses along the top of your head in the process. ‘Dove, we’re meeting Crystal for coffee, remember?’

Charles’s gently mustered words are enough to serenade a response out of your sleepy self. You murmur incoherent words, flipping yourself over so that when you inch your eyes open, they can delight in your boyfriend’s beauty.

His ebony-clad curls are fluffed to perfection atop his head, not a hint of bed-head in sight, which you consider impressive before you remember that Charles mostly spent the night just watching you. As if nothing else in the world matters. You extend a hand to the defined curve of his jaw, practically guiding his lips toward your own. They lock together in familiarity, and nothing but pure, honeyed ecstasy buzzes throughout you. This is better than coffee, better than anything. Charles tasted like heaven, hell, and everything in between.

And as you two separated, Charles beamed down at you with something indescribable bouncing around in his whiskey eyes. ‘I think a sleep-in wouldn’t hurt, now, would it?’ Rising to the day seems like the logical option. Something that barely crosses your mind for a second before you fall captive to those bronzed arms, weaving around the hitch of your waist. And before you know it, you discover yourself half-tossed atop the ghost you had fallen for. The tall length of his legs tangled with your own. And any responsible, adult-like thought dissolved as your lips crashed together. Something oh-so-destructible yet perfect, how could you say no?

And possibly, that perfect destruction is always the reason why you both are considered late to possibly anything imaginable. If Edwin found himself in the depths of the fiery circles of hell again, the entire group would bet that you and Charles would take an eternity to part before he’d get rescued. It’d be more beneficial for Edwin to smuggle out himself.

‘We’re going to be awfully late, angel.’

‘Maybe because you keep distracting me.’

‘Nonsense, I’m brills and can do no wrong.’

You tear your eyes away from your reflection in the mirror before you. You scrutinise Charles with a disbelieving gaze at his words, which shortly dissolve into nothing less than adoration. Nevertheless, you continued to feign annoyance as you combed a single hand through your hair and down your scalp. Fingers adjusting the little strands to suit your desire for tidiness.

You abandon this aspiration, pivoting upon your heel. The mask of annoyance you pertain slips away into nothingness as a soft laugh escapes you amid your words. Facing your boyfriend, you slip a hand into his own.

‘You’re lucky that I love you.’

'I am so very lucky.'

Charles’ adjusted his position as he moved his lips from the curve of your forehead, toward the curve of your lips. There was something passionate about how the deep onyx of hues sparked with something even deeper. Something warm and honeyed, indescribable. And before you could even decipher what it was you could feel the honeyed taste of him upon your lips, Charles scooped you up and threw you over his shoulder.

His arm relented against the small of your back, even as you holler out empty threats and meaningless curses amid your laughter. This merely prompted Charles to bounce you atop his shoulder blade, a chuckle of his own heard as you huffed and puffed. Nevertheless, you would refuse to admit that the action of soft intimacy made you feel over the moon with exhilaration.

A curse of Charles’s own accompanied your laughter as he was a breath away from the side of his torso slamming into the doorway he attempted to parade you through, which frankly made you laugh harder.

‘You’re such a dick.’ You managed to wheeze out.

‘I think you may be right about that one.’

Charles’s voice sounded with a tinge of mischief, which crept, announced in his tone. You could almost hear the grin in his voice as he articulated his words, even through your limited peripheral vision as you were held captive in his arms.

‘You love it, though.’

The Charles-like cockiness your boyfriend presented caused you to blow out a breath of feigned exasperation. Yet, unbeknownst to him, the slow ghost of a smile proceeded to creep onto your lips. Especially as he continued to balance you upon the bridge of his broadened shoulder, for a hint of dramatics, of course. Because you did love it.

And as the two of you ventured toward inevitable lateness, you couldn’t help but think how you couldn’t wait to do it all again the following morning.

WORD COUNT: 973 MASTERLIST REQ ME!

#📂﹟𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐬 .ᐟ #📁﹟𝐦𝐲 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 .ᐟ #📎﹟ 𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 .ᐟ #👻 ﹟ 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐛𝐨𝐲 𝐝𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐬 .ᐟ #🏏 ﹟ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝 .ᐟ #sincerelyverena #fanfiction #dead boy detectives fic #dead boy detective agency #dead boy detectives #charles rowland/you #charles rowland/reader #charles rowland x you #charles rowland x reader #charles rowland #niko sasaki #crystal palace #edwin payne

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royallyprincesslilly · 11 months ago

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Lewis Hamilton Masterlist

Here is my long-awaited and asked-for masterlist for all my Lewis Hamilton fics thus far. As a warning, there is a HELL OF A LOT here. WOW, and I am sure there will be a hell of a lot more to be added.

Thank you ALL for reading, liking, and reblogging. I appreciate the reception and the love more than you know. ❤️

✧*.。:。✧*.:。✧*✧*.。:。✧*.:。

Things To Know:

-I'm Lilly you may call me that or Lee.

-There is a psychologically proven link between content interaction and content creation. Simply, the more interaction with something (content) or someone, the more content is produced. {Wink, Wink}

-If you are sensitive to angst or erotica this may be an uncomfortable, high blood pressure-inducing, hedonistic place for you. LOL.

-Pay attention to my warnings section.

-My content is meant for individuals 18 and older. If you are under 18 please DO NOT INTERACT.

-Do NOT reproduce, or translate any of my work on any platform. I do not consent to that. Also, DO NOT steal what I write. That's an a$$hole thing to do.

-YOU are responsible for managing what content you consume. NOT ME. Heed warnings that open the stories.

✧*.。:。✧*.:。✧*✧*.

Content Meter:

*Mentions of NSFW content. Not explicit or even detailed.

**Half of the work is NSFW and recommended to be read at YOUR discretion. Can be explicit and/or detailed.

***Most of the work is NSFW. Don't read this at work, or around others you might feel embarrassed with them knowing you're freaky. Very detailed, and very explicit.

****Pure Filth. Don't read this anywhere not private unless you can handle the consequences. All the details, no limits on explicit content. This is NOT "wham, bam thank you, ma'am". There is work being put in!

✧*.。:。✧*.:。✧*✧*.

Oh, one more thing! Did you know, I take commissions? I do! So have something you want just for you? Send a DM and let's talk about it!

One last thing! My writing takes time, care, energy, and an endless well of creativity. It's as fun for me to write it as it is for you to read it. So, if would like to show your monetary support, appreciation, and or like for me and what I create here, check out my Ko-Fi and CashApp links in my bio.

Thank you in advance for the love. ❤️❤️

✧*.。:。✧*.:。✧*✧*.

Series/Mini-Series

-If This Is Love Mini-Series {COMPLETED}

Lewis Hamilton x Mercedes Owner Daughter Reader

Title: If This Is Love--

Summary: Against your better judgement, you allowed Lewis to woo you. For 10 months he chased you with more determination than a starving wolf. You finally gave in and found happiness and what you thought was love. Thought is the operative word as you stare at the pictures from his week in Antarctica, pictures that show you definitely had been made a fool of.

{1}-If This Is Love, I Don't Want It | {2}-If This Is Love, You Need To Prove It | {3}-If This Is Love, You Need To Mean It | {4}-If This Is Love, You Gotta Ride For Me | {5}-If This Is Love, It’s Forever

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

-A Long Time Coming Mini-Series {COMPLETED}

Lewis Hamilton x Best Friend Reader

Title: A Long Time Coming

Summary: After a long, grueling and stressful 2023 season where Lewis dominated and showed the world once again why he was the best at what he does. He walks away with his 8th championship title and plans with his closest and bestest for some much-needed R&R.

{1} | {2}* | {3}***

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

-What We Did In The Dark Series {ONGOING}

Lewis Hamilton x Reader

Title: What We Did In The Dark

Summary: Neither of you planned any of it. You’d met by chance, and everything that happened after had to have been predestined. There was no way blazing passion like what was between you was something coincidental.

{1}**** | {2}* | {3} | {4} | {5}....(Coming Soon)

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

-3P Series {ONGOING}

Lewis Hamilton x Famous Singer Reader x Aaron Pierre

Title: 3P

Summary:“Sharing is caring”, “The more the merrier”, “Love knows no bounds”. There are so many quotes that circulate that can be tied to love and relationships. Two of the many you like happens to be “Two is better than one” and “The more the merrier”. Now it wasn’t like you particularly and purposely went out your way to collect men. That wasn’t the case at all. It’s just that there were two gorgeous faces in the sea of bodies at Coachella that you couldn’t decide which you wanted more. So you decided why choose. That was 4 months ago and now everything was much more complicated than you’d ever intended.

{1} | {2}...(Coming Soon)

{More To Come...}

✧*.。:。✧*.:。✧*✧*

One,Two, & Three Shots

-Trauma: Hysteria | Trauma 2: (Coming Soon)

-Wasted Time | Wasted Love | Wasted 3: (Coming Soon)

-Forever Mine***

-She Calls Me Daddy Now***

-Everybody Else Is No. 2***

-You First***

-Message My Heart

-Can't Take My Eyes Off Of You**

-Stake My Claim*

-Plus Baby Makes Three**

-Love Will Remember***

-Thirsty Or Parched**

-Just Do It

-One Night****

-True Peace***

-Book Trap {Social Media Collection}**

-Lil' Love*

-4am Drunk Calls**

-Show Me**

-Ion't Even Need 7 Minutes***

-Taste The Rainbow***

-Forever & Ever & Ever & Ever--But Not Right Now**

-Morning Voice {Headcannon}**

-1, 2, 3 {SongFic}***

-It'll Be Fun They Said {Social Media AU}

-Trick Or Treat {Headcannon}

-Forgive Me, I Am A Sinner {Any Celeb}** | No Saints Here...(Coming Soon)

-Going Once, Going Twice (Coming Soon)

-Once Bitten | Twice Shy | Thrice My Lady... (Coming Soon)

-Distraction... (Coming Soon)

-Unruly.... (Coming Soon)

-Slip Of The Tongue.... (Coming Soon)

-Do That Again.... (Coming Soon)

-R&R.... (Coming Soon)

-You Make Me Want.... (Coming Soon)

-Grown Folks Thangs... (Coming Soon)

-Truth Is.... (Coming Soon)

-Behind The Mask | Behind Closed Doors | Underneath Your Clothes | Behind The Name.... (Coming Soon)

-When It Hits Hard.... (Coming Soon)

-Lil' Princess.... (Coming Soon)

✧*.。:。✧*.:。✧*✧*.

#lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton fanfiction #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton angst #lewis hamilton x black reader #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton blurb #lewis hamilton masterlist #masterlist

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scarletwritesshit · 8 months ago

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🐱Jing Yuan x Stelle 🐱Once Just a Creation, Now Forever a Friend

Their cries continued to echo throughout the space station.

Ruan Mei, Ruan Mei, why did you abandon us?

Time and again, it would drive Stelle insane. It wasn’t simply due to the constant, loud noise; she had almost no way of silencing the creatures. Lying to them only got her so far. Some were all too eager and hopeful to believe her half-truths, others were far too deep into despair to even listen to a word that she had to say.

Stelle visited them when she could, though it wasn’t very often She would sit by them, petting the gelatinous shell of those who were willing to approach her, as well as those who needed it most. If only she could all of them with her on her journey, but Pom Pom would probably not appreciate the additional guests to clean up after. With the immense number of critters discarded in the space station, it felt like Stelle needed a whole planet to house them.

It would be cruel to dump them on a lifeless, practically inhabitable planet with little to no survival skills of their own. No leader of a planet would want an invasive species to destroy their ecosystem either, no matter how cute they may be. With those two options in mind, her choices are narrowed down to a planet without a natural ecosystem or a planet with a leader who has a soft spot for odd animals. Where was she going to find either one of those?

The Xianzhou Luofu. Of course. It was purely artificial with no wildlife, headed by a general who really, really loves cats. Of all people, Stelle knew just how much that general adored cats...

She tried to find a critter that she thought would get Jing Yuan’s attention the fastest. Knowing how he was, he would be on his knees begging to take all of them home, regardless of which one she showed him first. In fact, she wants him to take them all. It’s just that the right creature could mean the difference between him accepting it now rather than later.

...With “later” probably meaning five minutes at most. Okay, so maybe the specific type of cat didn’t matter. She could honestly take a picture of the entire room populated with the creatures and Jing Yuan would offer the space station a lump sum of credits to take them all for himself.

For now, Stelle settled on taking a picture of a rather pathetic, mopey looking creature.

"What? Here to point and laugh at me for my pathetic state?" the critter whined.

"Shh. Just you wait," Stelle said.

The creature continued to mew and complain, but Stelle turned her back on it. There was no comforting such travesty, as each attempt would only make it sob more and more. It stung Stelle’s heart, really, but she had become accustomed to doing this by now.

Stelle attached the picture of the pathetic creature to the message, then promptly sent it. She didn’t expect an immediate response back. Jing Yuan was most likely napping during this time.

General, I have something I’d like to show you, she typed.

And you are just going to show me that without offering to bring me one back?

As she was making her way out of their habitat, Stelle’s phone buzzed with a text message. It’s been probably five minutes, tops. Drastic difference compared to the five hours she was expecting.

Stelle sort of forgot how easily excitable Jing Yuan was in regard to cats, or cat-like creatures, for that matter. It didn’t matter if they were big, small, or strangely shaped, the general had always had a soft spot for them. She should’ve figured that she would receive such a rapid response from sending him a cat picture; it was almost like he had some sort of a sixth sense for cats.

I mean, very, very cute. What’s its name? the messages read.

He sleeps through every other message, but if it were a picture of a cat? Jing Yuan could be in the heat of battle and he would probably stop to check his phone to gush over the image. It was his greatest weakness. Don’t let the Stellaron Hunters find out.

It doesn’t have one. It was dumped here, she replied.

He fell in love with that creature faster than he did with Stelle. She had nothing but respect for this, though. Cats first, people second. If Stelle had a pet, she would be the same way. That’s like, prioritizing trash cans over Jing Yuan, though. Not exactly the best message to send across.

Oh, poor thing. How anyone could discard such a marvelous creature is beyond me.

…Never mind that. Stelle backed up against a wall to get a clear shot of the room to send a picture of even more creatures to Jing Yuan, when her phoned buzzed in her hands once more.

…So can we keep it?

Mimi kept nuzzling her nose into Jing Yuan’s hand that was holding his phone. She seemed quite intrigued by the image of the creature that he kept scrolling up to, but she was making it virtually impossible for him to type. That last message should’ve taken only 20 seconds, tops. Instead, it felt like it took him twenty minutes to get a few words down.

Meanwhile, on the Xianzhou Luofu…

“Mimi, I’m just as excited as you, calm down,” he said, pushing her away by the nose.

He received another text, this time with a picture showing countless other similar creatures, all varying in pattern. He could hardly contain his excitement, so much as when Mimi slowly crept up to peek over his shoulders, he failed to take note of her.

Which one? That was practically an impossible question! Jing Yuan wanted all of them. He could make room on the Luofu for them. Somewhere. His place of residence was large enough that he could house them there, though he might have to deal with the occasional displeased guard tripping over an oblivious creature’s tail. That didn’t matter; Jing Yuan was the general, and he issued the orders, meaning he could order them to treat them with respect just like any other residents and allow them to coexist peacefully.

Keep which one? Stelle’s text read.

Abuse of power? Maybe a little. But the Luofu was home to a multitude of different races. No reason why he should be any less welcoming to these cake-shaped creatures compared to the Vidyadhara, Foxian, and many others.

These critters were just smaller. And jigglier. And cuter.

I believe I could arrange for accommodations to be made, he wrote back.

I knew you would like them. I doubt Ruan Mei would care if I even took them.

Exactly.

Who?

But how do you expect me to bring them back to Xianzhou, unless I try to carry like 200 critters with me?

Jing Yuan thought for a moment. The Stellaron Hunters seem to have lost interest in the planet, and things have been relatively quiet, so perhaps he could spare a lower ranking ship to pick them up. If anyone asks, call it a personal rescue mission, or something.

Send me your coordinates. I’ll send a captain over promptly.

...I’ll get in touch with Herta to let her know that the Xianzhou Luofu isn’t declaring war.

Jing Yuan called for a ship to prepare for takeoff towards the space station. Neither he nor Stelle knew how many creatures to expect to be delivered, but the Luofu was spacious enough to accommodate as many of these critters as the space station could produce, and then some. Hopefully, no one (Mimi in particular) would mistake the cake cats as actual snacks.

That would be most appreciated.

Countless little cat-like creatures having practically free reign over the Luofu. It sounded like a dream to him.

In practice, however, the presence of these small creatures created slightly larger inconveniences than he initially bothered to consider. The critters were fairly sized, yet just small enough to be out of view of an unsuspecting Luofu knight. And they tripped over them. A lot.

The creatures may not be causing such a ruckus intentionally, but Jing Yuan refused to take other measures of taming these creatures. He argued that they were their own kind, and deserved to live within the freedom of the Xianzhou’s rules just like any other. Some thought of him as a wild man. Others considered him biased, given Stelle is the one who translated their whining to him.

Despite all of these claims, Jing Yuan wasn’t safe from the wrath of the critters either. They would lay down anywhere, but most favorably, directly on whatever he was working on at the moment. And when he would gently slide one of the critters of his way, another one would be quick to take its place. Though their shenanigans may annoy him on a particularly bad day, he couldn’t stay mad at them for very long. They were too adorable. He would even let them suffocate him to death if they so desired, which had admittedly almost happened a few times. On some mornings, Jing Yuan would wake to find what felt like a thousand pounds of pure cat on his chest, preventing him from rolling over to shoo away the ones attempting to sleep on top of Stelle’s head.

They mean no harm. They’re just...like that.

The once peaceful residence of Jing Yuan became a critter haven. Stelle no longer knew peace while resting with him, as she found it quite difficult to sleep even the bare minimum of eight system hours with multiple critters pinning her down in the worst positions. At least Mimi took up only one large spot, usually on Jing Yuan’s side, not multiple parts on Stelle’s body pinching her nerves and restricting her breathing.

A part of her regretted telling Jing Yuan, but it was a small price to pay if it meant saving the creatures’ lives from being discarded.

Jing Yuan was more than eternally grateful for the new, adorable friends as well.

#jing yuan #stelle #jingstelle #honkai star rail #honkai star rail fanfic #fluff #ruan mei's creations

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trulybetty · 1 year ago

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It's too early for this...

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Reader (no use of Y/N & no physical descriptions) Word Count: 996 Warnings: 18+ this is just pure smut - barely read through and posted Summary: do we even need one? click here for the post that launched a thousand thots this morning

A/N: so, @secretelephanttattoo tagged me, amongst others, on this reblog of this early morning thot from @intheorangebedroom and at 5am, after reading that I was not going back to sleep. This is just smut, I don't even know if it's any good - it likely won't ever appear on any master list, so catch it while it's around lol (cc: @rhoorl, @legendary-pink-dot, @for-a-longlongtime & @goodwithcheese because you've been bringing the Frankie thots and I'm just a good fluffy girl who has been corrup- *cackles* even I can't keep a straight face at that bold-faced lie)

Bruised Knees

Your knees still stung from where you’d dropped to the floor the moment the door had shut behind you and Frankie. They’d be bruised tomorrow morning. The tip he’d thrown the driver of the taxi had been a testament to the almost pornographic sounds the two of you had made in the back seat.

You were pretty sure your panties were on that poor man’s backseat floor too.

However, your thoughts now were too encompassed with the man before you to worry about any possible embarrassment. Frankie’s back was against the door, your hands running up his thighs you looked up and in the dim moonlight that lit the hallway, you locked eyes as you reached for his belt buckle.

In a very practiced move, you had both the belt off of him and his jeans undone in record time. The only sounds filling the small space were your combined laboured breathing and hurried hands trying to free him from the confines of the boxer briefs he was cursing for choosing to wear.

The moment he was free you sucked in your breath, it was a wide-eyed sight no matter how many times you’d seen it. Already hard, it sprung from its confines thick and glistening with precum. You couldn't resist the urge to run your thumb over the head and his hips bucked forward in response.

Squeezing his thighs, you brought his attention back to you, locking eyes once more you licked your lips and ignoring the harshness of the floor on your knees you parted your lips and took his tip into your mouth.

The moan he let out broke the quietness as you teased him with your tongue, but it was no match for the guttural groan that came when your mouth slid further down his length. Your eyes still on him you didn't miss the way his lips parted and his breathing grew heavier.

The taste of him on your tongue was enough to entice you to take him further and you hummed around him in appreciation of the stretch your mouth made to accommodate him, the vibration sent shivers through his body. With both hands on his thighs to keep you steady, your tongue flat, further he went until you felt him hit the roof of your mouth.

You paused, breathing through your nose to compose yourself, his hand reached out for your cheek, his thumb brushing gently against your skin. You groaned around him as your hands snaked up to his hips for support. Further slick with your saliva he slid deeper still, stretching your mouth even more and you took him until you felt him hit the back of your throat.

Your mouth begged for more of him, while your throat felt like it was going to give out at any moment. You felt your eyes stung at the sensation and didn't realize you'd let out a tear until you felt Frankie brush it away.

Running his hand over your hair to settle at the back of your neck again, he pulled out, spit glistening over the half-length of him you'd managed to take in as he readjusted. His other hand you brought to your mouth, a kiss to the centre of his palm, before your tongue ran up the length of his middle finger where you wrapped your lips around the tip and sucked it in, letting it go with a wet pop.

Lust shone in his dark brown eyes as you brought your hand to your mouth and ran your tongue over your palm. You attempted to take hold of him in one hand, your fingers barely touching as they circled him, your spit helping the twist and pull as you readied yourself to take him back into your mouth.

He was big, but not so big that you couldn't handle it. Gagging at the tip you relaxed before taking him further this time until he hit the back of your throat again, your hand continuing to massage the base of his cock.

He groaned his approval, but you didn’t have time to savour the sound as he thrust into you, your head bobbing up and down as he fed you his length. Whimpering as the tip of him hit the back of your throat you tried to relax, taking what he offered you as you breathed through your nose.

Frankie's hand at the back of your neck tightened as he bucked into you, his grunts and growls syncing with the wet sounds you made as he thrust in and out of you. The sensation of him on your tongue was almost too much, the way he shuddered and moaned above you.

He began to thrust faster, harder, his cock hitting against the back of your throat, threatening to make you gag with each press. You kept up with each push, your fingers digging into his thighs as he moved more quickly and fiercely. By morning, your knees wouldn't be the only parts of your body that would be bruised.

He pushed deeper into you one last time before his grip on the back of your neck tightened and his breathing came out in harsh pants as he came onto your tongue with a guttural groan that made your core tighten looking for its own release.

You swallowed around him, licking him clean as he slipped from your lips.

“Fuck.” He whispered, his head falling back against the door as he took a moment to catch his breath, his hand coming up to run over his face.

Your eyes flicked up to watch him, his breathing was laboured, chest rising and falling as fast as you thought yours was. It was a brief moment of calm before Frankie dropped to the floor on his knees, and before you could react, your body was on the floor, Frankie over you, his lips on yours and your hands wrapped in the hair at the nape of his neck.

#this is just smut #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales smut

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seeingstarks · 1 year ago

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no one better than you baby

summary : you're in a moral dilemma on whether or not you should help adam turn on maxwell or the other way around. pairing : mjf x adam cole x afab!reader (use of wrestler names) cw : walked in on while getting dressed, angst if you squint, mention of anxiety, sexual suggestions, french-kissing, arm/ab touching, nicknames like babe/babygirl, basically wrestling fluff with a dash of smut! a/n : reblogs are very much appreciated! had this in the drafts for a week or so and finally had the inspo to finish it! enjoy! 💙 word count : 1,425 words tag list: @adamjf @josiewrites

"adam, no, we can't." you pleaded while looking over into his icy blue eyes contemplating on whether or not tonight was the night to help adam turn on maxwell.

you'd been his valet ever since undisputed era and glued to his hip however found yourself wandering after making the move to all elite. maxwell was an asshole and nothing but, he seemed like a changed man when better than you bay bay became a thing.

adam kept the good guy act up for the cameras but he'd secretly been pitching ideas to you for weeks. little did he know that the devil himself caught your eye more than once and you'd been sneaking off to tell him of adam's plans. the devil was always one step ahead but with your help he'd be two steps further.

everything went according to plan except when stepping foot into your private locker room away from the two men you trusted most in your life, one as a brother and the other as a sort of school-girl crush. surely everyone in their right mind had to be head over heels for the maxwell jacob friedman.

with a soft sigh, you took a seat infront of your cheap vanity. it was nothing much just a re-furnished shelf painted your favorite color, a few lights adorning the top and a mirror propped up against it with makeup scattered about.

however one thing was out of place.. or rather wasn't there to begin with. you picked up the small black box and gave it a slight shake, wondering what it contained inside. you should've known the gift was from maxwell when pulling at the burberry ribbon and revealing the contents inside to be a ring in just your size.

taking the shiny object out of the box, your eyes sparkled from the reflection off the lights and pure wonder of how much it cost, had to be a fortune. it looked exactly like his dynamite diamond ring only perfect for your finger.

you slid the ring on and smiled seeing your reflection in the mirror, of course it suited you well. once getting up from the seat, you had noticed a neatly folded piece of paper on the ground that must've fallen from the box.

inside read, "thought of you when i found this. the only person prettier and better than any diamond is you, baby. maybe you could use it against adam tonight?"

a slight warmth grew on your cheeks when reading the words, maxwell never called you pretty to your face. only things like baby, toots, or beautiful.. but you only took it as a joke in passing. there was this one time he called you babygirl and you will never let him hear the end of it.

you nearly jumped from your seat when you heard someone knocking at the door, luckily it was just a seamstress dropping off your outfit for the night. ever since maxwell and adam teamed up you had matching gear with them.

throwing off your shorts, you swiftly put on your wrestling bottoms and while whipping your shirt toward whatever corner of the room another knock was heard on the door, "c'mon, i'm just trynna' get dressed here!" you half-yelled with a huff and opened the door realizing you were only wearing a bra once you came face to face with adam.

"oh, uh i'll just wait a few minutes- promise i didn't see anything." you chuckled at adam's response and watched as he shut his eyes.

you went toward a private part of the room and threw your double clothesline shirt on with the matching jacket, "i'm dressed now, mr. undisputed your eyes won't be burned." you gave him a smile.

"so, have you given anymore consideration to helping me turn on maxwell tonight?" adam questioned but you were deep in thought thinking about the devil himself.

adam snapped his fingers infront of you, a sort of way to try and bring you back to reality, "uh, y/n you still there?"

"oh, yeah.. mhm. i've given it some consideration. maybe tonight isn't the right night to turn on him. he's just starting to act like a face.. and well we're trying to get the crowd on his side."

"exactly, y/n. tonight would be the perfect night for it.. but i understand if you're not ready. it's all in your hands." adam looked at you sincerely, you had a lot to consider since both men wanted you to turn on the other one and you hadn't even seen max in person tonight except in passing. whichever choice you made you hoped it wouldn't ruin any friendships.

"i'll make my choice when we go out there, see you in five." you assured as adam soon exited, you took it upon yourself to do the finishing touches on your outfit and makeup.

you dragged your feet against the backstage floor, scrunching your nose up at the sound it made. squeaky.. must've been cleaned recently. a familiar feeling arose in your stomach, that being of anxiety.

you were fast approaching both men and had a very important decision to make, not only for the two you loved most but for a future feud in the company.

with a heavy sigh, you glanced down at your ring finger which was usually not adorned with such a shiny jewel but maxwell had grown on you the past month or so.. and adam he'd been there for all your ups and downs. this moment was more than your personal relationships.. it was about wrestling itself and what the fans wanted but you couldn't bare the thought of hurting maxwell.

or could you? only time would tell.

lights flashed bright, pyro went off, the crowd had been cheering and booing all night and it was finally time for the main event.

mawell's music hit first and then it mashed up with a mix of adam's. then it was your time to shine, you posed with the men as maxwell instinctively wrapped an arm around your waist, adam shooting him a knowing glare. a few rude members of the crowd were cat-calling you so maxwell took it upon himself to flip them off.

you were used to adam being cheered and mawwell always receiving a mix of boos and cheers however since the team up it was the best of both worlds.

you stood at ringside as the match went smoothly, cheering a little more for maxwell over adam and he seemed to take notice when taken advantage of in a shatter machine finisher. whoops.

in the end ftr still won over better than you bay bay despite your efforts of attempting to distract the referee but being careful enough not to get kicked out.

you made your way up the ring steps and hugged it out with both men, adam turning around and telling maxwell to hit him but instead it was you doing the dirty work.

one swift punch to the jaw, ring including left the crowd in gasps. even maxwell looked surprised for a moment or so while resting against the ropes in the corner or the ring.

he smirked deviously before standing up, "knew you'd make the right choice," he lowered his voice so only you could hear, "i see you took my advice now how about let's get outta' here and i take ya' on a proper date, babygirl?"

your eyes met with his chocolate ones, giving a nod. "yes. of course, maxwell. but first-"

before maxwell even had the chance to speak, you wrapped your arms and hand up around his muscly shoulders, dragging the other along his abs.

"don't forget we're in public baby- not that i mind but i don't wanna share you for our first time."

after listening you shushed him with a kissed which he deepened by wrapping his own strong arms around your finger, opening your mouth in response as he shoved his tongue down your throat, causing you to gasp for air.

you snaked your tongue around his, doing the same as a small moan escaped from the man's throat, "mm, babe."

you chuckled as the two of you eventually broke the kiss to catch a breath of air, still holding each other close. the crowd was off the rails already yelling about giving you and maxwell a ship name as you hid your blushing face into his shoulder.

"we're going to make a perfect wrestling couple."

"why just a wrestling couple?" you asked with a smirk.

"touché"

#better than you bay bay <33 #mjf #adam cole #maxwell jacob friedman #mjf x reader #adam cole x reader #wrestling fluff #aew fluff #mjf x female reader #adam cole x female reader

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lili863 · 5 days ago

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Animagus

(Pt 6)

Matteo Riddle x MC

AN: Enemies to lovers, Quidditch, banter, conspiracies, dark arts, manipulation, death eaters, Slytherin boys

AN: Some of the magical things mentioned here are purely fiction and will not exist in the harry potter or hog wart legacy world.

AN: I am sorry this update took so long. I cherish this story a lot so lot of planning goes into the words, theme and plot which takes time. With school it gets hectic, I appreciate everyone who reads this story with all my heart.

Masterlist

_______________________________________________

Matteo never showed up for detention after your little incident in Potions. You had reported as scheduled, half-relieved he wasn’t there.

Typical Matteo—skipping out on responsibility. As much as you hated him and thought he deserved to scrub every cauldron in the room for what he put you through, you didn’t entirely mind doing it alone.

After all, for once in all the countless times you’d clashed with him, this mess wasn’t really his fault.

So there you were, halfway through the endless pile of cauldrons, your hands aching from scrubbing stubborn residue, when the classroom door creaked open. Snape entered, his presence as suffocating as the stale potion fumes clinging to the air.

Instinctively, you stepped aside to give him room, expecting him to glide past you with that air of contempt he seemed to reserve just for you. But he didn’t.

He stopped. Towering over you, his dark eyes burned into yours, and for a moment, your breath caught.

“Consider yourself lucky, Cromwell,” he sneered, his tone as cold as the dungeons. “I happen to be feeling merciful today. Return to your dormitory.”

Before you could react, he flicked his wand. The pile of filthy cauldrons you’d spent hours scrubbing sprang to life, flying to the massive washing stations at the side of the room. Brushes and sponges whirled around them, scrubbing and rinsing effortlessly—a mocking display of the work that had left your arms sore and your patience thin.

You swallowed your frustration and gave a stiff nod. “Thank you, Professor.”

Snape didn’t acknowledge your gratitude, already turning toward his desk. But something nagged at you—something you couldn’t let go.

Matteo.

Surely, skipping detention warranted some sort of punishment. If Snape hadn’t mentioned it, maybe it meant he already knew Matteo wouldn’t show up. Maybe…

Before you could stop yourself, the words tumbled out. “Professor… if you don’t mind me asking, do you know where Matteo is? He didn’t show up.”

Snape froze mid-step. Slowly, he turned, fixing you with a glare that sent a shiver down your spine.

The warning in his gaze was clear: Drop it.

You nodded quickly, muttering a hasty “Never mind, sorry” before retreating from the classroom.

But the question lingered in your mind, unanswered.

That meant two things: Snape knew what had happened to Matteo and wasn’t telling you.

And Matteo had skipped detention—on purpose.

A few days had passed, and Matteo, along with his band of Slytherin elites, was nowhere to be seen.

It wasn’t unusual for Matteo to disappear now and then, but for all of them to vanish at once? That was strange. Stranger still was how the professors clammed up whenever anyone asked about it.

You told yourself you didn’t care. He wasn’t your problem—never had been. But unease still gnawed at the edges of your thoughts.

Was it part of the deal they’d made with Ripple? You weren’t naive. You knew Matteo hadn’t told you the whole truth. Ripple owed them something—something big. You just didn’t know what.

And that “deal” became personal the moment Matteo laid his hands on what was yours.

You and Ginny were on your way to Divination, chatting about how absurd the class was, when a voice rang out from ahead:

“Hey, Honeybadger.”

You froze mid-step, your body going rigid at the all-too-familiar drawl. Slowly, you lifted your gaze and saw him leaning casually against a windowsill. Matteo Riddle.

His grin widened at your shock, the sunlight streaming through the window catching his messy curls. You almost didn’t notice the faint cut across the bridge of his nose, the bruise blooming on his cheekbone, or the split in his lower lip.

No. Nope. You weren’t doing this today. You had been craving a peaceful week, and you weren’t about to let him ruin it. Without a word, you grabbed Ginny’s arm and kept walking.

“Not even a hello?” Matteo’s voice called out, teasing and light.

Before you could retort, you stumbled forward, nearly faceplanting as your foot caught on something. Ginny gasped beside you as you barely caught yourself. Spinning around, your glare met Matteo’s satisfied smirk as he straightened from where he’d stuck out his foot.

You seethed, brushing yourself off. “Seriously?”

“Just making sure you didn’t forget me.” Matteo said, his grin softening into something almost playful. His brown eyes lingered on you, uncharacteristically warm, though there was something else there too. Something you couldn’t quite name.

Ginny scowled at him, shooting you a wary glance. “I’ll head to class,” she said quietly, giving you a look that said she’d stay if you asked. But you didn’t.

“It’s fine,” you murmured. “I’ll catch up.”

Ginny hesitated, then walked off, sparing Matteo one last glare before disappearing around the corner.

The hallway fell quiet, save for the faint rustle of leaves in the breeze beyond the towering windows. You stepped closer to Matteo, your arms crossed.

“What happened?” you muttered, taking in the bruises and cuts on his face.

Matteo tilted his head, lips curving into a half-smile. “You should see the other guy.”

“Let me guess,” you said dryly, masking the flicker of concern bubbling in your chest. “The other guy was stronger?”

“Something like that,” Matteo replied, his voice carrying a bitter edge. His smile didn’t reach his eyes, and for a brief moment, the mask he wore so well slipped. You caught it—the sadness that flickered, raw and fleeting, before he turned his gaze away.

The sight twisted something in your gut. Wondering if something happened to him while he was away. The words were at the tip of your tongue but you didn’t press. Instead, you dug into your bag and pulled out a small vial of shimmering green liquid.

“Here,” you said, holding it out to him. “Wiggenweld.”

Matteo raised an eyebrow, glancing down at the potion before back at you. “What’s this? A bribe?”

“As if.” you said. “Just drink it.”

His fingers brushed yours as he took the vial, the rough callouses of his palm surprising you. For a moment, you both stood in silence, the air between you charged with something unspoken.

“If this is your attempt at getting on my good side,” Matteo said, scoffing softly, “don’t bother. You’ll always be the loose end I can’t tie.”

You raised a brow, slightly confused. His words didn’t match the way he looked at you—soft, almost contemplative.

You took a breath, steadying yourself before asking, “When will I get my pendant back?”

Matteo’s grin faltered. For a long moment, he was silent, his gaze dropping to the stone floor. Then, in a voice quieter than you expected, he said, “When the year ends.”

You stepped closer, tilting your head to meet his eyes through the loose curls falling over his face. Your heart thudded against your ribs, but you kept your expression firm.

“And what happens when the year ends?”

Matteo kept a firm gaze downwards, his fingers playing with the small vial.

But you could see his jaw clench, as if he was restraining himself.

Your instincts told you not press further, at least..yet. Something was going on. Even if you had no idea what it was.

Offering a faint smirk in an attempt to lighten the mood and chnage the topic, you reply “What, Hufflepuff winning the Quidditch Cup?”

Matteo blinked, then let out a soft laugh. “See? Even you find that ridiculous.”

“I don’t!” you said, feigning offense. “"I-I dont! I just.. it's hard to see that happen after you guys screwed up the prospects of it even happening with that disgrace.”

Matteo chuckled, his shoulders shaking with quiet laughter. “Traitor? God, just say pussy, and I’ll know who you’re talking about.”

Your eyes widened, and you fought not to smile. “That’s… a bit far.”

“Please,” Matteo said, his grin turning sharp. “And ruining his reputation for the rest of his last god forsaken year at Hogwarts isn't? Seriously Cromwell, are you sure your in the right house?”

Your stomach twisted with guilt. He wasn’t wrong. Ripple had barely shown his face since the incident. You’d tried to apologize, but it was too little, too late.

Your shoulders sagged, and you sighed. “He was slandering our house. Saying things about people he knew his whole life. Things that weren't deserved. It..triggered me. Especially after knowing how many times those people had his back”

Matteo’s expression shifted, softening. His hand reached out,grabbing the yellow tie. He tugged gently, pulling you closer.

You brath caught, completely taken aback, catching as his warm brown eyes locked with yours. They weren’t mocking or cruel—this was something else entirely.

“Greed can be an ugly thing,” Matteo murmured, his voice low and steady. “Especially unrestrained and uncontrolled.”

You blinked, your heart pounding. “That’s… ironic. Coming from a Slytherin.”

His lips curved into a faint smile. “Isn’t it? But for what it’s worth, I would never have done what Ripple did.”

And, for reasons you couldn’t explain, you believed him.

Matteo’s softened smile lingered, the tension in the air between you both almost suffocating. You swallowed hard, your eyes flickering nervously between his.

“Do you trust me, Riddle?” you asked, your voice quieter than you intended. “That even after the year ends, I won’t tell Rolanda?”

His gaze darkened, his smirk curling into something sharper, more dangerous. His eyes flickered to your lips, then back to your wide-eyed stare.

“I’m almost hoping you do,” he murmured.

Your breath hitched. “What?”

“When someone crosses me,” he began, his voice smooth and deliberate, “I don’t forget. I don’t forgive.”

Matteo leaned closer, his voice a near whisper. “So for all the stunts you’ve pulled with me, Cromwell, they’re all on my list.”

You managed to move your lips, your voice barely above a breath. “It’s not like you’re entirely innocent, Riddle.”

His hand was still on your tie, tugged you infinitesimally closer.

“You’re right,” he murmured, “I’m not.”

Before you could process his words, Matteo moved. In one swift motion, he yanked you into his arms, one hand snaking around your waist while the other cupped the side of your neck. Your chest slammed against his hard ones causing a yelp from your lip, hand hands flying to his shoulders.

His lips grazed the side of your neck, soft and impossibly warm. A shiver ran down your spine, and your hands instinctively pressed against his shoulders to push him away. "Matteo"! You exclaimed.

A spark of magic rippled from where his lips touched your skin, a faint hum that seemed vibrate against your skin. A noise escapes your mouth as his lips pressed against your pulsepoint.

You could feel it.

His tongue, slow and deliberate, gliding over your pulse point before his teeth grazed your skin.

“Stop—” you tried, but the sting of his bite cut you off, a gasp spilling from your mouth. Your body betrayed you, arching into him as if seeking more.

He grunted in response, his fingers digging into the curve of your waist as if to steady himself—or keep you closer. Then came the tugging and sucking, each motion purposeful, his teeth scraping lightly before soothing the spot with his tongue.

“Get off me!” you tried again, twisting in his grip, but the sensations were relentless, pooling heat somewhere low in your belly.

“Matteo—Matteo, ungh—”

Finally, with an audible pop, his lips detached from your neck. You shoved yourself back, your hand flying to the spot, fingers brushing over the unmistakable mark.

The skin was warm, almost too warm, and the sting lingered as you tried to catch your breath. You gaped at him, flabbergasted, before your embarrassment and anger flared to life.

Quickly, you darted to the window, catching your reflection in the glass. Your heart sank at the sight—a deep, dark red hickey, the kind that screamed scandal. Worse, it shimmered faintly before fading into a normal but no less obvious hue.

“A hickey,” you breathed, voice thick with disbelief. “You charmed a bloody hickey onto my neck?”

Behind you, Matteo leaned lazily against the wall, licking his lips as if savoring a rare delicacy. His brown eyes gleamed with amusement, and his smirk was maddening. “Sure did. Figured, what would the most uptight and pent-up girl at Hogwarts hate the most? This seemed appropriate.”

“Are you—ugh! Matteo!” you snapped, spinning on your heel to glare at him. “Take it off. Right now.”

He chuckled softly, the sound rich and infuriatingly smooth. “And why would I do that?”

“Because,” you hissed, glancing around the empty hallway in a panic, “I have class in five minutes, and I don’t exactly have time to hunt for a scarf!”

Matteo’s smirk widened. He pushed off the wall, strolling closer with the confidence of someone who had already won. “Oh, come on, Cromwell. I did you a favor.”

Your jaw fell, blood rushing up to your face "Care to fucking explain extactly how".

The enunciation in your voice must have struck him funny, because he doubled over in silent laughter, his shoulders shaking as you fumed.

Once he straightened, his pearly smile in full display he explained "Well now everyone know that Wynn Cromwell despite the bore she is at least gets some in her spare time".

A laugh of disbelief bubbled from your chest as you looked up at the ceiling.

"You, dont know shit about me Riddle. How the hell would you know if this was my first hickey or not"?

Matteo raised an eyebrow, smugness radiating from him. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because of that kiss—”

“Where the hell is my wand,” you muttered, cutting him off as you frantically searched your robes, your movements jerky and frustrated.

He chuckled again, shaking his head. “Relax, Cromwell. That wand wouldn’t do you much good, anyway. My mark won’t disappear unless I want it to. That’s just how these things work.”

You froze, your hand still halfway to your pocket. “You’re bluffing.”

“Am I?” Matteo said, stepping closer again, his voice dipping into a low, velvet murmur. “Go ahead. Try. I’ll wait.”

Your hand clenched around nothing, and you glared up at him, fire burning in your cheeks. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And yet,” Matteo said, his smirk softening into something quieter but no less smug, “you’ll still be thinking about me all day.”

He turned smoothly, his robes sweeping behind him as he walked away, but not before glancing over his shoulder. “Enjoy class, Honeybadger. Don’t miss me too much.”

You stood there, your fists trembling, torn between the desire to hex him and the desperate need to crawl under the nearest table and die.

Ginny was going to love this.

The rest of the day was torture. Your head remained propped on your arm, fingers constantly pressing over the humiliating red mark on your neck. By the time lunch rolled around, your neck ached from holding the position, and you were sure your classmates were wondering if you had some bizarre new posture habit.

Ginny and Hermione, however, weren’t fooled.

It started with pointed looks. Hermione arched a brow, her ever-perceptive gaze lingering just a little too long. Ginny, on the other hand, smirked like she already knew your deepest, darkest secret.

You prayed for an escape, but your fingers slipped for the briefest of moments, and the mark peeked out from under your hand.

Hermione gasped audibly, slapping a hand over her mouth to muffle the sound. Ginny’s smirk stretched into a wicked grin, her eyes sparkling with glee.

“Oh, you have to tell us what happened,” Ginny whispered, leaning closer as if this were the juiciest gossip she’d ever encountered.

“Nothing happened!” you hissed back, frantically covering the mark again as the fear of someone else seeing it shot through you. Your cheeks burned, and you barely resisted the urge to bury your face in your hands.

Hermione wasn’t buying it. She lowered her hand, her brows furrowing. “That’s a charmed mark,” she whispered. “Why would—”

Ginny cut her off, her grin only widening. “Let me guess: Matteo Riddle?”

Your glare was the only confirmation she needed, and she let out a quiet laugh, practically glowing with amusement.

For the rest of the day, you stayed as still as possible, keeping your neck covered like your life depended on it. By the time the final class ended, you felt like you’d aged a decade.

The library was quiet by the time you settled into a corner. The soft glow of lanterns cast long shadows across the bookshelves, and the faint scratch of quills filled the air.

You leaned back in your seat, rolling your stiff neck with a grunt of discomfort. That jerk wasn’t bluffing—the mark wasn’t going anywhere.

You’d scrubbed your neck near raw, applied layers of makeup, and even attempted to reverse the charm with your wand. Nothing worked. Every counterspell either fizzled out uselessly or stung like a wasp bite. To your horror, the mark seemed even more vivid than before.

You groaned softly, rubbing your temples. You couldn’t go on like this. Another day of covering your neck, and you were sure your head would roll clean off from the tension.

The dim library was at least a small solace. It was nearly seven o’clock, giving you two blissful hours of quiet before curfew. Your notes sprawled across the table, and you forced your eyes to focus on the assignments in front of you, though your eyelids grew heavier with each passing moment.

The next thing you knew, darkness enveloped you as exhaustion and sleep deprivation finally won their battle.

You weren’t sure how long you had been out, but the sudden thud of something hitting the floor jarred you awake.

Your head snapped up from the table, your vision hazy and your neck stiff from its awkward position. Rubbing your eyes, you blinked until the dim lighting of the library came into focus. You were still here—not in the comfort of your bed, but in the endless maze of shelves and silence.

It was quiet. Too quiet. The warm, soft glow of the library’s usual lighting seemed dimmer now, casting long shadows across the room. You stretched, the weight of sleep still clinging to your limbs as you glanced at the towering clock in the center of the library.

Your breath caught in your throat.

11:20 PM.

Panic jolted through you, sharp and immediate. You were two hours and twenty minutes past curfew.

Your heart hammered as you stood, your chair scraping faintly against the floor. You froze, listening for any signs of life, but the library was eerily empty. Even Madam Pince had gone, leaving you utterly alone in the dim, silent space.

If anyone caught you—Filch, Snape, even a wandering Prefect—you’d lose house points faster than you could explain yourself.

Slipping your bag over your shoulder, you began moving, your footsteps quick but quiet against the polished floor. You made it halfway through the rows of towering shelves when faint whispers stopped you in your tracks.

You stiffened, your pulse racing as the low murmur of voices reached your ears. They were coming from just around the corner, hidden by the towering bookshelf in front of you.

“…Doesn’t matter. We need to go now.”

The voice was faint, unfamiliar, but it sent a chill down your spine. You edged closer, craning your neck to listen.

“Do I need to drag you by the collar, Ripple? Or are you going to walk like a fucking person?”

Your blood ran cold at the unmistakable voice.

Matteo Riddle.

You ducked behind the shelf, peering through a gap in the books to confirm your worst suspicion. Sure enough, there he was, flanked by Ripple, Theo, and Blaise. They stood in a tight circle, their expressions sharp and focused.

“If we’re caught, we could be expelled!” Ripple hissed, his voice trembling.

“Want to say that a little louder?” Blaise drawled, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “In case the whole castle didn’t hear you.”

“We won’t be caught,” Matteo cut in, his voice smooth and commanding. “Not unless someone does something stupid. And since I know you’re lacking in common sense, that’s why I’m here.”

Ripple scowled but didn’t argue.

You pressed yourself against the shelf, your breath shallow. They were up to something, something big.

“Now, where is the map chamber?” Matteo asked, his tone calm but unrelenting.

Right then, you blood ran cold.

It took you a few moments to process the word as if your brain refused to accept it.

The room was a closely guarded secret, entrusted to you by Dumbledore himself. As the only student in the castle capable of wielding ancient magic, it was your responsibility to safeguard it, its existence wasn’t supposed to be common knowledge.

if they knew about the map chamber, they were meddling in something far more dangerous than they understood. Or worse—far more dangerous than you understood.

Your heartbeat thundered in your ears as a dozen questions collided in your mind. How had they found out? What did they want with it? And more importantly—what would they do if they managed to open it?

A chill crept down your spine as you leaned back against the shelf, trying to steady your breathing. You couldn’t let them reach that door.

Your eyes flicked toward the group. Judging by their hushed voices and movements, they were heading for the restricted section—likely down to the dungeons. To the map chamber. Quietly, you slipped your bag from your shoulder and crouched low behind a shelf. Your movements were deliberate, each step as silent as you could manage.

“It’s located deep underground, beneath Hogwarts. We’ll need to head down to the dungeons through the restricted section,” Ripple muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.

Just then, the faint crumple of paper broke the silence. You leaned in closer, peeking through the gap in the shelves.

“You have a map?” Blaise asked, one brow arched skeptically.

Ripple sniffled, shaking his head. “We’ll need one. There are places down there… things hidden in plain sight. You have to know exactly what to look for to find them.”

“We should get going, then,” Theo said, glancing toward the library entrance, his sharp eyes scanning for any sign of the caretaker.

Ripple, looking like he was on the verge of passing out, quickly mumbled, “Wait. I… there’s one more thing.”

Matteo exhaled sharply, his patience clearly wearing thin. His glare settled on Ripple as the boy fumbled in his pocket, his trembling fingers finally pulling out a small, intricately carved locket.

“This,” Ripple said, holding it up as though it might burn him, “is my grandfather’s. He said it’s imbued with ancient magic. The problem isn’t getting there—it’s entering the place.”

Matteo stepped forward, his presence menacing as his shadow loomed over Ripple. “What do you mean?” His voice was cold, sharp as a blade.

Ripple’s eyes remained fixed on the locket, his voice barely above a whisper. “My grandfather said the doors to the chamber will only open in the presence of ancient magic. Without it…” He trailed off, his grip tightening around the locket.

“That’s not what you told me yesterday,” Matteo said, his voice dropping to a lethal calm. “Are you telling me you lied to me?”

Ripple’s head snapped up, his face pale as he shook it furiously. “No! I—I swear, I didn’t lie! My grandfather said the locket has strong traces of ancient magic. I thought it would react to the chamber’s energy and… maybe trick the door into opening.”

Matteo ran a hand through his curls, growling in frustration. This mission was already proving to be more trouble than it was worth.

I hope my father’s happy, he thought bitterly. Making my life miserable seems to be his only goal.

“Enough,” Theo interjected, his voice calm but firm as he glanced between the group. “Even if it doesn’t work, we’ll still know where the chamber is. That alone is worth the trip.”

“Let’s just get this over with,” Theo muttered, nodding toward the locket.

“Now there’s an idea,” Blaise said dryly, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.

Matteo shot them both a sharp glare before exhaling slowly, regaining his composure. He turned his attention back to Ripple, his dark eyes narrowing.

“Fine,” Matteo said at last, his tone clipped

Ripple’s shoulders sagged slightly in relief as Matteo turned to lead the group toward the restricted section. But as they moved, Matteo’s voice cut through the silence once more.

“And Ripple,” he said, not bothering to turn around. “If this locket doesn’t work, you’ll be more useful to me as a warning than as an accomplice.”

Ripple froze mid-step, his face pale, but Matteo didn’t spare him a second glance.

You sat there quietly waiting for their footsteps to disappear. As your thoughts raced, you felt the ancient magic stir within you, a faint hum that made your skin tingle. Taking a deep breath, you finally came to terms on what you had to do.

You had hoped this day wouldn't come.

You never exploited you magic for anything, or anyone. Not even in duels, losing to spells like expelliarmus or accio when you could easily send send them flying through wall with a flick of your wand. Your pride didn't matter when it came to keeping your status as keeper under wraps, letting others believe what they wanted.

But now, for the first time, you had to show up. Really show up.

You’d warned yourself against this moment for so long. Against making a scene, against giving anyone the chance to question why you were chosen to protect such power.

But maybe—just maybe—for Matteo Riddle, this moment was long overdue.

“Shit, you weren’t kidding when you said underground,” Blaise huffed, his voice echoing down the seemingly endless spiral staircase.

Ripple stayed silent, his grip tightening on the locket in his hand.

“How many people do you think know about this place?” Theo asked, his tone casual, but his sharp gaze flicked toward Ripple.

Ripple shrugged, his shoulders stiff. “Not many, I imagine. Dumbledore probably knows, but without the knowledge or clues, nobody could find it.”

“You don’t have ancient magic, do you?” Theo pressed, his voice cool and indifferent.

Ripple shook his head, his lips twitching with embarrassment. “No.”

Ancient magic. The words hung in the air like a judgment. Ripple didn’t need to be reminded of its significance. Everyone knew how rare and powerful it was. While it didn’t guarantee supremacy, it carved a path to greatness—a path Ripple could never walk.

“Why not?” Matteo asked, his tone tinged with amusement, though his dark eyes gleamed with something sharper.

Ripple’s breath hitched. He squeezed his eyes shut, his face twisting in a mixture of disdain and humiliation. These Slytherins—they thrived on cruelty. They had no right to ask such a question, and yet, he had no choice but to answer.

“…I don’t know,” he muttered, though the truth burned in his chest.

“You didn’t inherit it,” Matteo corrected smoothly, his smirk deepening.

Ripple stopped mid-step, his knuckles white around the locket as he took a deep, shuddering breath. “No.”

His grandfather had been extraordinary—a man Ripple had idolized his entire life. The pride of their family, his grandfather had risen through the ranks of the Aurors with unprecedented success, amassing wealth and recognition that most could only dream of. And it was all thanks to the ancient magic he’d been born with.

Ripple’s mother had inherited it too, though she died when he was young. The expectation had always been that Ripple would carry on their legacy. That he’d be the next in line to wield it.

But he wasn’t.

The envy had consumed him for as long as he could remember. If only he had been born with it. If only he had ancient magic, he wouldn’t have to deal with these assholes—or that crazy bitch Wynn.

It was all her fault.

If he had the power, he wouldn’t hesitate to make her pay. To hurt her in ways she couldn’t possibly imagine.

“Guess you do know, then,” Theo interjected, breaking the silence, his voice laced with dry amusement.

“CAN WE PLEASE JUST—” Ripple stopped mid-shout, his voice echoing up the staircase. He caught himself, inhaling sharply as he clenched his fists.

Theo and Blaise exchanged a glance, unfazed. Matteo’s smirk widened.

“We’re almost there,” Ripple muttered, shoving past Matteo and continuing his descent.

The trio broke into quiet laughter as they followed.

“What did I tell you?” Matteo murmured.

“That one’s a full-blown psycho murder waiting to happen,” Blaise said, shaking his head.

“I’d give him a couple more months—at least until he’s out of Hogwarts,” Theo added, exhaling a puff of smoke from the cigarette in his hand.

“Or until he’s married to a proper pain-in-the-neck wife with three kids by the ripe age of twenty,” Theo quipped, earning a round of chuckles from the group.

“A wife?” Blaise snorted. “That’s a stretch.”

Theo shrugged, his lips curling into a smirk. “Had to give him some benefit of the doubt.”

Ripple’s footsteps quickened as the laughter echoed around him, his hunched shoulders trembling with suppressed fury. His brow furrowed, his face twisting into a mask of pure rage.

Suddenly, the thought of doing time in Azkaban for killing these three didn’t seem so bad. Ripple figured he could handle a thousand dementors better than their relentless mockery.

He let himself daydream for a moment, imagining the headlines: Ripple, Slayer of Voldemort’s Son, Hero of the Wizarding World. The Ministry would hail him as a savior, maybe even fast-track him into the Auror Office right after Hogwarts. All of it seemed within reach—if only he had the courage to draw his wand.

But courage had never been his strong suit.

Ripple’s dark thoughts were interrupted as he noticed the staircase finally came to an end. He stumbled slightly, looking up just as the trio ahead of him stepped into a dimly lit hallway.

The air was frigid, carrying the kind of heavy silence that reminded them they were deep underground, where even a whisper might carry too far. The walls were lined with intricate carvings, their patterns weaving into stories Ripple couldn’t quite place. Blue flames flickered in iron torches along the walls, casting eerie, shifting shadows across the stone.

Matteo, Blaise, and Theo surged forward without a second glance at Ripple, their boots echoing softly against the stone floor.

“Enzo and Draco would’ve loved this,” Blaise remarked, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

“Not more than they love sleep,” Theo shot back with a faint scoff.

Ripple trailed behind, his fingers absently brushing against the locket in his hand as he listened to their banter. Then they stopped, all of them gazing up at the massive door before them.

The grand structure was breathtaking—its surface adorned with intricate spirals and symbols that seemed to shimmer faintly in the glow of the blue flames. The spiral motif at its center pulsed faintly, as though alive, and the craftsmanship was unlike anything Ripple had ever seen.

“Well, time to see if that locket actually works,” Blaise quipped, crossing his arms and leaning casually against the wall.

“I swear,” Theo muttered, rubbing his temples, “if this doesn’t work and I have to trudge all the way back to my dorm at this hour, I’m going to kill someone.”

“You’re the one who suggested we come even if it didn’t work, tough guy,” Blaise shot back with a smirk.

“It’s one in the bloody morning,” Theo grumbled under his breath.

But before either of them could say more, the door groaned, the sound deep and resonant, as it began to open. A rush of cold wind surged forward, sending chills down their spines as the air shifted, heavier and somehow older.

All four of them froze, their eyes widening in shock.

“It worked!” Ripple exclaimed, his voice breaking the silence as he rushed forward eagerly.

Matteo, Blaise, and Theo followed more slowly, their gazes sweeping over the room beyond.

It was stunning—vast and awe-inspiring, with towering ceilings that seemed to disappear into the shadows above. Balconies lined the upper walls, overlooking waterfalls that poured into the darkness outside. The sound of the cascading water echoed softly, creating an almost ethereal atmosphere.

In the center of the room, a glimmering circular floor caught the blue firelight, its polished surface reflecting the murals that stretched across the walls above. Each mural depicted a different story, their vibrant colors preserved despite the room’s ancient age.

The group stared in silence, taking it all in.

Ripple stared at the locket in his hand, pride swelling in his chest. He couldn’t help but take note to keep it for himself—despite his grandfather’s explicit instructions to return it once he was done.

Of course, his grandfather didn’t know the truth. Ripple had lied, claiming it was for some harmless school project. If only he knew Ripple had used it to open the map chamber. There’d be hell to pay later, no doubt, but in this moment, Ripple couldn’t bring himself to care.

This place… it could all be his.

Ahead, the trio walked further into the room, their voices echoing faintly through the vast chamber.

“Hogwarts seriously never ceases to amaze me,” Blaise remarked, letting out a low whistle as his eyes roamed the space.

“Whoa,” Theo’s voice reverberated softly as his gaze locked onto the glimmering floor beneath them.

The floor shimmered like liquid starlight, its intricate map of Hogwarts etched with glowing constellations, each line marking the contours of the castle. A luminous star marked every significant location, a glimmering guide to secrets yet uncovered.

“I’m guessing that’s where the relic’s location will show,” Matteo said, raising a brow as he turned back toward Ripple, who was still standing slack-jawed, staring at the ceiling with wide eyes.

“Hey, Ripple,” Matteo whistled sharply.

Ripple jolted, a frown quickly forming on his face. “W-what?”

Matteo rolled his eyes, his impatience flickering. “How do we find the location?”

Ripple shuffled forward, standing over the glowing map. His hands trembled slightly as he leaned closer to examine it.

But then—without warning—the light began to dim. The glowing stars sputtered, flickering faintly before burning out completely. The shimmering floor turned black as pitch, leaving nothing but an empty void beneath their feet.

“Whoa! Whoa! What the hell just happened?!” Blaise exclaimed, stepping back as if the floor might collapse beneath him.

Matteo’s brow furrowed, confusion and concern flashing across his face. “Why did it go out?”

“That’s because you’re trespassing.”

A voice cut through the chaos like a blade.

All at once, they spun around, their movements sharp and frantic as the echo of the words seemed to linger in the chamber.

There you stood at the entrance, as though the chamber itself had summoned you.

For a moment, no one moved.

“You,” you said, your gaze locking onto specifically Matteo.

The look on his face was priceless—pure, unfiltered alarm. For the first time, Matteo Riddle was caught off guard.

"Don’t belong here”.

Before anyone could speak, Ripple broke the silence, his voice trembling with fury.

“What the hell are you doing here, Cromwell?! Did you follow us?!”

You raised a single brow at his accusation, your calm demeanor a stark contrast to his outburst.

“You did, didn’t you?! How dare you?!” Ripple’s voice cracked as he stepped forward, clutching the locket tightly.

The rest of the group remained silent, their shock palpable, but Ripple’s anger burned hot. He was convinced—it had to be the locket that opened the door. The door was still open, after all. That was probably how you got in.

“I didn’t have to follow you,” you said calmly, meeting his glare with ease.

Ripple’s head shook violently, his disbelief painted across his face. “That’s impossible!”

You tilted your head slightly, a faint smile tugging at your lips. “Who do you think let you in, Ripple?”

The words seemed to echo in the vast chamber, and before Ripple could respond, you swished your hand, and the grand door groaned shut behind them. The sound was heavy and deliberate, the finality of it making Ripple stumble back in alarm.

“No. NO!” Ripple’s face contorted in panic, his fury overtaken by a dawning sense of dread. He looked back at the now-sealed door, his breathing quick and shallow.

You said nothing, watching him with a measured gaze as he stammered.

“You—you can’t be an ancient magic user! You can’t! It was my grandfather’s locket!” He thrust the locket into the air as though it might prove him right, its intricate designs catching the eerie blue glow of the torches.

Your eyes flicked to the locket briefly, then back to him, tilting your head again in faint curiosity. “An inanimate object won’t open that door, Ripple. Only a user can.”

Ripple froze, his face crumpling as he clutched the locket tighter, his knuckles white.

You stepped forward, slow and deliberate, your gaze shifting to Matteo. His calm expression betrayed him—his fists were clenched tight at his sides.

“That’s why I waited,” you said evenly, your voice carrying across the chamber.

Matteo scoffed, shaking his head, his voice smooth but missing its usual sharp edge. “You were there, weren’t you? In the library. I knew I caught a shadow.”

A dry, humorless laugh escaped you as your eyes narrowed. “And I thought I saw some sneaky thieves. Turns out there are four of them standing right here.”

Ripple’s voice cracked again, drawing your attention back to him. “You… you have ancient magic,” he whispered, his words trembling with disbelief.

“Yes,” you said simply, your gaze cold as you stared him down. “And you don’t. So tell me, Ripple—what the hell are you doing here?”

Matteo stepped forward, his movements calculated, “We should be asking you the same thing.”

Your wand shifted slightly in your hand as you held his gaze. “Don’t give me a reason to draw my wand, Riddle.”

Matteo’s calm demeanor snapped back into place, but the tension between you was razor-sharp.

“Hey, hey,” Blaise interrupted, his hands raised slightly as though to diffuse the situation. “We’re just having a conversation here, right? No need to get all… hostile.”

Your grip on your wand tightened, but your voice remained calm, cutting through his arrogance, “Unlike you, I belong here, Riddle.”

“Oh, do you?” Matteo stepped forward, “Funny, I don’t recall your name being etched into the walls.”

“Maybe you missed it,” you shot back, your tone cold and deliberate. “But I’m not the one skulking around like a thief in the night. What’s your excuse?”

Matteo chuckled softly, though the sound lacked any real humor. His gaze flickered to your wand, then back to your face. “What are you going to do, Cromwell? Hex me? In this sacred little chamber of yours?”

“With my level, it wont be a mere hex” you replied without hesitation, your wand shifting slightly as the faint hum of ancient magic filled the air around you, fires flickering on the torches all around you.

“You really think that little display intimidates me?” Matteo raised a brow.

“I don’t care if it does,” you said, your eyes locking with his. “But you’ll think twice before taking another step, or I’ll show you just how out of your depth you are.”

Matteo’s cocky exterior cracked, a flicker of something unrecognizable flashing across his face. One might call it respect—though he would never admit it aloud, and you, of course, didn’t point it out.

For the first time, he didn’t see you as just another ditzy Hufflepuff with a cute face and an irritating knack for Quidditch.

No, this was different.

This wasn’t the girl who fumbled her way through minor duels, letting simple spells like Expelliarmus disarm her. This wasn’t the girl who laughed off insults with infuriating ease, as though they couldn’t touch her. This wasn’t the girl who walked away from confrontations, choosing quiet restraint over a spectacle.

And suddenly, Matteo began to wonder.

Had it all been a farce?

Every time you rolled your eyes at his taunts instead of retaliating, every time you let him assume you were lesser—it all came rushing back to him now, reframed with unsettling clarity.

You had been playing along. Letting him believe what he wanted to believe. And worse, he’d fallen for it.

How many times had he thought you were too soft, too naive, too weak to exist?

Every cutting remark, every look he’d thrown your way, had been born from the belief that you were beneath him—a girl playing in a world far too dangerous for someone like you. And yet, here you were, standing before him, unshaken and impossibly calm, in a place meant for someone far more powerful than he’d ever imagined you to be.

It made him question everything—every sneer, every assumption, every moment he’d dismissed you.

Clearly, he’d been wrong.

You had never been weak. You had been deliberate. Quietly hiding something far greater beneath the surface.

And then there was Dumbledore.

The man was no fool. For him to have chosen you—entrusted you with this chamber, with the secrets it held—it meant one thing:

You weren’t just powerful. You were dangerous in ways Matteo hadn’t even begun to comprehend.

And for the first time, he realized: you were not to be underestimated.

But he quickly masked it “That’s bold coming from you Princess”

You jaws clenched at the nickname he's given, the one of many you had grown a bit fond off. But you would never admit that even if you life depended on it.

“And yet, here you are, breaking in, hoping to get answers you’ll never find.”

Matteo’s eyes darkened, his fists clenching at his sides. “Careful, Cromwell. You don’t want to make me your enemy.”

“You already are.”

The silence that followed was thick, charged, until Theo’s sigh cut through it. “Look,” he said, his voice edged with frustration, “we’re just here to find—”

“A relic,” you interrupted, turning your gaze to him.

Theo stiffened, his mouth snapping shut as your sharp tone hung in the air.

“The question is: which one?” you asked, your eyes narrowing as they flicked back to Matteo.

Matteo held your gaze, a flicker of intrigue flashing across his face. He wondered briefly—if you knew the name of the relic, would you recognize its power?

More than likely, yes.

But what if…

“With one flick of my wand,” you said, the floor beneath you shimmering to life, constellations glowing faintly, “I could show you exactly where to find the relic on this map.”

The constellations gleamed, the magic radiating from the floor casting soft light across the room. It was as though the stars themselves had returned to the chamber.

“But you won’t, will you?” Matteo remarked, his tone low, testing.

“That depends,” you said, your voice steady, “on what it is and why you need it.”

Theo and Blaise exchanged a glance, unease flickering between them. Matteo caught it, but he didn’t acknowledge it.

Instead, he sighed, his shoulders rolling back as though the weight of the moment settled there. “We’re looking for the Vinculum Eternum.”

The Vinculum Sternum was no ordinary relic—it was a creation born of desperation and genius. It would consume the blood of the damned—just one drop—and imprison its victim for eternity of hell.

Your wand lowered slightly, confusion etching across your face. “The Eternal Bond,” you murmured, piecing it together. Your tone sharpened as your gaze pinned Matteo. “And who exactly are you imprisoning, Riddle?”

Smart girl, Matteo thought, ignoring the flicker of pride swelling in his chest. Of course you knew what it was. Of course you’d figured it out.

The suspicion in your voice told him you already knew the answer. You were waiting for him to say it, to confirm what you were beginning to piece together.

Matteo inhaled slowly, his dark eyes steady on yours. When he spoke, his voice was quieter, but the weight of his words landed heavily between you.

“My father".

#matteoriddle #matteo riddle x yn #matteo riddle x reader #harrypotter fanfiction #hogwarts legacy #draco malfoy #blaise zabini #theodore not #slytherin boys #slytherin #harry potter fandom

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auzlon · 1 year ago

Text

I read. SPOILER!!!!!!!!!!!!

Isolation by bexchan

Okay, quick background I have read and listened to a many Dramione. I don't consider myself an all knowing, but I have some over analyzed thoughts on this subject.

I am not done listening to this story. This is subject to change possibly....

Let's begin..

Isolation is considered a top tier dramonie fanfiction. I am currently listening to the story and understand that may not allow me to dive into it as much as I would like.

I have the thus far considered the story ...... interesting but not inciting.

Ranking key points. On Chapter 27 right now.

PLOT: picks up after HBP (half-blood prince) Hermione does not go on the quest for the horcrux instead stays to help Hogwarts. Ron and harry go off send her owl every fortnight, Hedwig is not dead nor Moody eye. The events of that night never happen. Professor Snape shows up with Draco Malfoy looking for somewhere to hide him. Snape did kill Dumbledore and Malfoy did let in the death eaters so he is considered partially responsible. McGonagall task Hermonie to take in Draco in her dorm as prefect she has a dorm with 2 rooms. He can't leave so Isolation. They live like that for a while and eventually begin a sexual and emotional relationship. Around January the ministry is taken the death eaters are going to Hogwarts to get all the muggle born wizards. Here is when Hermione and Draco get separated. He gets sent to his Andromeda Tonks and she to her daughter Nymphadora Tonks. so far--

Smut.... good. The smuts good I definitely think that really helps in the overall rating. In order to have a well written fan fiction the fantasy of a good fuck is paramount. That being said the over all tone of when they did the deed varied. He NEEDS her. He listens to her soothing noises when she showers. They do it to vent yet it does become this sweet thing that they can cherish. They also have many sweet moments. Personally them reading together is sooo cute. ughhh shakespare. omg.

Hermione's depth. unfortunately, I have not yet experienced the power of this character. She lacks something of self-driven force. she was never the most confident person but in this version she withers at the hands of Draco. Leaving a bad taste. I did appreciate the MLK bit when she's trying to convince Draco of the 'mud blood' word basically being racist. I don't really feel like Shes helping in the war effort much. She has literally only read books. This is halfway through may change. AT this point we will see if their affection for each other goes beyond being stuck together.

DRACO is a fun character to analyze he changes so much depending on the story. THIS IS A TOXIC MANNNNN. He is cussing everyone out Hermione, McGonagall, himself. I don't love that every other word he says is Fuck. fucking. Hell. It lacks the sophistication of noble born pure breed wizard that's all I'm saying. IT IS REFREASHING to SEE Draco Malfoy be in need. He needs Hermione beyond his eventual attraction, he needs her to keep himself from going crazy and not give him up to death eat. He is forced to trust her well before she ever really has to trust him truly. I dislike how difficult it is for him to truly consider having given up the death eater life. He grapples with it; I get that he does not throw off everything has learned. But he doesn't on his on consider that being force into isolation because he couldn't kill Dumbledore. Might be that moment he realizes ' oh I don't want to do this. ' Hermione' Is cramming that done his throat making it feel just forces. HE also yells at he a lot in the first bit to leave him alone.

WE have nooooo ron or harry still.

we got luna and blaze, that intro to that was the sweetest thing thus far.

The War is progressing in different events.

The story is very English.

I will update as I get through the story.

#love #dramione fanfiction #dramione #isolation #harry potter #fanfic #draco malfoy #hermione granger #story review #spoilers

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maraeffect · 1 year ago

Note

"This ask" *stupid emojiis*

Wow cunt. Sorry for asking questions to understand more. Sorry for not being taught about this in school. Sorry for talking about a highly contested issue that has been around since the 1960s *minimum* and still nobody cares about Palestine. Sorry for only knowing modern Israel was made by the victors of WW2 to prevent another jewish genocide. Or at least thinking to know. Is this how you speak to everyone just trying to learn?

Shut the fuck up.

can't believe you're sending this to me LMAO, but i'll attach the ask and my response in question, just so everyone can see what i was talking about.

"whyyyyyyyy did the people whose land was stolen put themselves in the place where their land was stolen??? why did they think it was a good idea to be genocided????"

truthfully, my issue is that you approached this issue with a lackadaisical, near insulting attitude and a leading question; that inserted your misinformed opinion alongside a sort-of question. truthfully, you could have googled your question if you weren't looking to insert your, again, misinformed & half-baked opinion on top of that. you LITERALLY said "well, i agree with this, but NOT this". don't act dumb like you don't think you sent that ask to insert your own opinion. it came off as self-important and crass.

i didn't learn about this in school either. i'm 23 years old and only JUST became familiar with the topic in the past couple years. you wanna know why i know now?? I GOOGLED. i watched documentaries. i listened to palestinian journalists. and the whole time, i did not insert an opinion ONCE. much less open myself up to public political discussion on it. i knew that i knew next to nothing, and that it wasn't my place to talk over those who knew way more.

these people are enslaved and tortured. i didn't appreciate the way you talked about it. and i feel that you were motivated by things OTHER than a pure desire to learn. even if it WAS a pure desire to learn, you treated the topic with disrespect; at a time of (arguably) the most catastrophic series of war crimes committed against these historically imprisoned people.

not to mention, my 2 words and "woozy" emojis got you this fucked up. i think, genuinely, if after my response you felt so compelled to come into my ask box and call me a cunt?? you're too sensitive to be on the internet. i mean that. you need to grow a thicker skin, especially in the world of politics. people will disagree with you. always. no matter your opinion! politics is just that way. i didn't insult you, i didn't go into detail about my opinion of your ask at ALL until you came into my ask box and insulted me. (again, inserting your unwanted opinion into someone's messages. go figure.) others will not be so kind and i worry for your sake how you'll take it as you grow older and become more involved in politics.

i thought about not answering this or just inserting some meme, but i wanted to actually try and respect the topic like i feel you did not.

by the way, Israel was not "made after WW2". IT EXISTED AS PALESTINE. after WW1, Britain and France backstabbed their previous Arab allies, and COLONIZED EVERYONE'S LAND. this includes tons of middle-eastern countries, and the area of Palestine. The Zionist movement knew that the British military was withdrawing towards the end of WW2, and Britain for whatever reason gave control of Palestine to the UN. So, the Zionists argued for much more land than they were SUPPOSED to be allotted by the UN, knowing they would have the strongest military presence in the region (after Britain's withdrawal). They won. They then performed the Naqba (whole separate thing you should learn about, too complex to go here). Zionists won total control over Palestine, and continued racheting deeper and deeper into their ethnic cleansing. This is all heavily reduced just to give a simple gist. Israel was not just fucking invented in the 1940's, the same way the USA wasn't invented in the 1700's. it was STOLEN. people were ethnically cleansed and brutally tortured in order to take their land from them. even in your ask to ME you didn't bother to educate yourself before inserting YET ANOTHER PIECE OF MISINFO.

that's all i care to write (it's long i know lol). if you came into my ask box or DM's with a hint of decency, i would have loved to talk this over with you. but since we're throwing insults i guess, go fuck off back to where u came from, "cunt". (:

#anon #ask #free palestine #israel #i am so tired lmfao get the fuck out of my ask box

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dweetwise · 1 year ago

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[Ace X Zarina] Bad behavior

I love them your honor. Rated Mature | 1.1k words | ao3 link

“I can’t believe you!” Zarina exclaimed. "How the hell did you think that was a good idea!?"

She stalked toward Ace while ranting, and he did an awkward half-dance, half-skip backward.

"Hey, now." Ace grinned and held his hands up. "I thought Dwight said we shouldn't put blame on a single person for—"

"We should if they fucking hide in the basement when people are dying on hook!" Zarina argued. “What's the point of even having rules if you're just going to break them every trial!?"

“Oh, you're one to talk," Ace shot back. "You really want to lecture me about rules, Ms. trespassing and illegal recordings?"

“That’s different!” Zarina argued. “It was in the real world and for a good cause!”

“Well—fuck!"

Ace yelped as the back of his knee hit something solid, sending him flailing for balance while he tried not to fall on his ass.

Zarina's hand shot out to grab a fistful of his jacket and pull him upright. She was surprisingly strong considering her size, and at least now Ace knew she wasn't angry enough to want him to injure himself.

Ace glanced around—they'd reached the campfire and he'd tripped on his own damn overflowing hoard of items—but none of the people hanging around seemed to be paying them any mind.

To be fair, it wasn't like Zarina yelling and Ace making an ass out of himself was anything out of the ordinary.

Ace winked and gave Zarina his most charming smile. "Thanks for the save, sugar."

"Uh-huh," Zarina said, utterly unphased by his sweet-talking. "And?"

"And, as I was saying…" Ace cleared his throat to feebly try to restore some of his wounded pride. "My basement excursion was also for a good cause."

Surprisingly, Zarina crossed her arms and cocked an eyebrow instead of telling him where to shove the bullshit. “Oh?” she asked. “Let’s hear it, then.”

Ace's brain frantically scrambled for anything that would make a good excuse.

“Adding a toolbox to the collection?” he suggested.

“Ace!”

“—For the starving children!” Ace added, pointing to Renato and Meg sitting nearby.

Renato looked up at them and offered a confused, “Huh?” while Meg just sighed.

“Can’t you guys take this somewhere else?” Meg asked.

“Fantastic idea!” Ace said. “I was just about to go ask Jonah—”

“You.” Zarina gripped Ace's arm firmly before he could slink away from the conversation. “With me. We’re not done yet.”

Ace wagged his eyebrows at Renato and Meg as Zarina dragged him into the woods, earning a snort from Renato and the middle finger from Meg.

"The children are surprisingly ungrateful," Ace told Zarina.

"Shut. Up," she grit out.

Ace held his tongue and tried not to smile too much.

Zarina was somehow even more attractive when she was angry, but Ace doubted she'd appreciate hearing that right now. They'd butted heads ever since meeting—and somehow even more after Zarina succumbed to his charms and they became an item—but at the end of the day, she still always curled up in his arms and kissed him goodnight, so Ace usually tried not to push his luck too much.

Sometimes he just couldn't help himself.

Once they were sufficiently far away from the campfire, Zarina released Ace and turned to face him.

“So? Are you going to apologize?” she asked.

Ace tilted his head and blinked innocently. “For what?”

“Oh, for the love of—!”

Zarina threw her hands up and made a sound of pure frustration, before yanking Ace down into a kiss.

Ace smirked against warm lips and wrapped his arms around Zarina, caressing down her lithe back and toying with the hem of her shirt. Zarina’s response, nowhere near as gentle, was to push him against a tree and bite his bottom lip hard enough to make him feel it.

Ace groaned and wrapped his hands around her tiny waist to pull her closer. If this was supposed to be his punishment, was it really any wonder that he kept misbehaving?

Zarina released his mouth and stepped back. “On the ground,” she ordered. “Now.”

Ace scrambled to obey with such haste he probably should’ve been embarrassed. What could he say? She pushed his buttons just as much as he did hers.

Ace lied down on the filthy forest floor—he's a gentleman, after all, and it wouldn't do to get the lady dirty.

He watched as Zarina undressed, shimmying out of her tight jeans and pulling her shirt over her head to reveal mouth-watering smooth skin. Ace’s pants were already feeling several sizes too small and he figured he might as well try to speed things along. He reached for the button of his slacks, and…

“What do you think you're doing?” Zarina snapped.

"Uh," Ace said, his hands freezing.

Zarina's expression was cold and unimpressed as she walked over and stared him down, completely unbothered by the fact that she was now fully nude in front of him.

“You think you deserve to come after the shit you just pulled?” Zarina demanded.

An involuntary shiver ran through Ace and his dick throbbed even harder in his pants. Damn, she was in that kind of mood, huh?

If Ace knew what was good for him, he'd probably apologize right about now.

Instead, he propped himself up on his elbows and gave her a challenging smirk. “Well, considering my noble cause to save the children—oof!”

The air left Ace's lungs as Zarina planted her foot on his chest and firmly pushed him back down on the ground.

"Rude," Ace croaked out, because the alternative was to moan and ask her to do it again.

Zarina wordlessly sank down on her knees, straddling Ace’s chest and putting her full weight on him: an equally pleasant and efficient way to get him to stay still.

He opened his mouth to make a quip but Zarina clearly anticipated it, and the only sound that escaped Ace’s throat was a breathless whine as she grabbed a fistful of his hair and yanked it.

“F-fuck,” he breathed, eyes stinging from the pleasure-pain.

“Shut up,” Zarina said, her hand twisting in his hair one more time before she let go. “Don’t you have something better to do with your mouth?”

Despite her harsh words and rough treatment, Ace could see the way her breath was coming in pants and felt the heat radiating from between her legs. It was always an ego boost to know that no matter how far he pushed, she'd always pull him right back in.

He eagerly settled his head more comfortably into the dirt, ignoring his own throbbing arousal in favor of the task at hand.

Ace licked his lips and winked, motioning for Zarina to straddle his face. “All yours, darling."

#ace visconti #zarina kassir #dbd fanfic #dbd #dead by daylight #dweetwrites #zarinace #i decided that's the ship name now

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siren-tale · 6 months ago

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mink-cute

pairing: bepo x oc

a/n: yes the title is a bad pun on meet-cute. anyways, here's 2k words about bepo and my oc, kit <3 these two mean a lot to me and they're my sweetest little pairing and i love them :') i am by no means a skilled writer but i'm learning not to let those things hold me back from being creative and sharing these types of things!!

The white fabric clung uncomfortably to her plush body, constricting around her pale fur. Alternatively, the orange fabric engulfed her, like a child wearing their mother’s clothes. With a sigh and a frown, she settled on the white boiler suit, tying the top half around her waist, leaving her plain black shirt visible.

‘I’ll have to cut a hole to fit my tail through… sorry Captain.’

She couldn’t blame them for not having something that fit her figure. She doubted the Heart Pirates ever expected to have a second mink amongst their ranks. Frankly, it was rare enough even to have one in the first place.

The thought of the mink navigator made her ears twitch, a smile unconsciously spreading across her lips. She was already quite fond of the polar bear, though she simply chalked it up to the excitement of finally meeting another mink after eighteen years of living amongst humans.

Meeting Bepo and the Heart Pirates had been pure luck. Her island was rather small and unimportant in the grand scheme of things, especially for one of the first ones you passed by when entering the Grand Line from the North Blue. Most people never even stopped; if they did, they never went further than the shore.

*ೃ༄

Kit was a barmaid at the town’s only tavern and their nightly entertainment. The villagers appreciated her musical talents, even if most were put off by her unusual appearance. Minks were unheard of on her island, so she had simply begun to pass it off as the result of a devil fruit. It hurt to hide away her true self and her true heritage, but if that’s what it took to be accepted, then so be it.

She had been preparing for a performance when the Heart Pirates stepped into the tavern, barely garnering a sliver of attention. They certainly weren’t infamous pirates yet, having only just set sail on the Grand Line. The only one who gained odd looks was Bepo, his large and furry figure standing out amongst his companions.

Bepo lowered his head, trying to hide himself amongst his crew, to lacklustre success. He couldn’t fit in the booth seats, so Shachi grabbed an extra chair for Bepo, leaving him feeling isolated from his friends as they all crammed in the seats together. Their chatter grew louder and rowdier as drinks were placed in front of them, but was soon drowned out by cheers and applause from the rest of the tavern.

Curiosity got the better of him, as he looked around for what had gained such an enthusiastic response. The gentle strumming of a guitar had his ears twitching, beady eyes darting towards the makeshift stage in the corner. When his eyes locked onto her, he swore his heart stopped for a moment.

Normal people didn’t have a tail, or fluffy ears, or a snout, or fur…

But he did. And so did she. That was a mink. She had to be a mink.

He was brought back to reality by the cacophony of noise within the small tavern. Drunken men sang along to her songs of sailors and sirens and the sea, slurred chants filling the room. But her voice still rose above them all, pretty and melodic. He didn’t realise how entranced he was by this musical mink until a quiet voice muttered beside him.

“She’s a mink, isn’t she?”

Bepo answered his captain with a nod, barely taking his eyes off her for a second. He feared that if he allowed his gaze to drift for just a moment, she would disappear like he had been imagining her the whole time.

Her shanties eventually came to an end, giving a small bow before hopping off the stage to get back to work. At the same time, a very drunk Shachi and Penguin begged Bepo to go grab them another round of drinks. He relented easily, a little bored now that he had lost sight of the raccoon mink girl.

He walked in a daze, mind fixated on the pretty mink girl. He had never come across another mink outside of Zou before. He wondered, what was she doing here? Had she come here willingly, or had this been some fateful accident, much like when he had been swept away?

Distracted by his thoughts, he lost track of his surroundings, until the cold splash of liquid against his body snapped him out of his daydreams. The clatter of wood against stone drew his attention to the tankards spilling to the ground, and the girl not far behind. He reached to help her without a second thought, gently holding her arms as she caught her balance.

Kit carried four full tankards of beer, squeezing through the tightly packed bar as she headed towards the table the bartender had directed her to. She squeaked as a body slammed into her from behind, knocking her off her feet, the tankards slipping from her grip. A pair of soft, warm paws grabbed her arms, steadying her on her feet.

Finally registering the sight in front of him, he stared at her with wide eyes. It was her- the mink girl. His wide-eyed wonder shifted to concern as he noticed her startled expression and lack of response.

Looking up, still startled by her sudden trip, she froze on the spot. A large polar bear towered over her, concern on his fuzzy face. His orange boiler suit was soaked with the spilt beer, the tankards scattered on the ground around them.

“Are you alright, mis-”

“You’re like me!”

*ೃ༄

That had been the start of everything for the two minks. Kit had felt terrible for soaking Bepo with beer, knowing firsthand how difficult it could be to wash the scent of it out of fur. She had ushered him out of the tavern and up to her small apartment above the bar.

Her small bathroom was stocked with everything needed to wash an entire body's worth of fur, and she practically forced Bepo to have a shower while she scrubbed the stains off his boiler suit. As Bepo dried off his fur, and Kit hung his boiler suit out of her window to dry, they could still hear the rabble of the drunken men below.

Bepo had emerged from the tiny bathroom, wrapped in two towels tied together, slightly shameful to be almost nude in front of a random girl, despite his fur-covered body. Kit picked up on his awkwardness, feeling her nerves rile up at the thought. She supposed it was just a side effect of growing up with human social etiquette and standards.

Despite the initial awkwardness, Kit and Bepo had bonded rather easily. Everything just made sense to the two of them. After years of being ‘the other’, they were no longer alone. It was just so easy to talk to one another as if they’d known each other their entire lives.

The Heart Pirates had only intended to stop at the island for one or two nights, just to gather supplies and relax one more time before venturing into more dangerous waters. But now they were going on day seven on the island. Surprisingly, it was Law keeping them docked by the shore and subtly trailing after his navigator and the raccoon mink.

Shachi and Penguin called it stalking. Law called it looking out for his first mate. Bepo called it embarrassing, hiding his face in his paws as Kit giggled at the captain’s poor excuse for a disguise.

Truthfully, Law could just see how important the girl had become to Bepo. He could read his best friend like the back of his hand, and it was blatantly clear that the two of them understood each other on a level that the rest of the Heart Pirates never could.

And if Law suspected there were some romantic feelings involved… well, that wasn’t his business to get involved with.

…okay, maybe he’d get a bit involved with it.

On the eighth day, Law had approached Kit early in the morning, before Bepo had a chance to run off with her. Kit had immediately assumed that Law, with his seemingly displeased expression, had come to tell her that she’d been spending too much time with Bepo, or needed to leave him alone, or something along those lines.

She hadn’t expected an offer to join his crew.

“I think my crew could use some entertainment, considering how long we spend under the ocean.” He had said, the sincerity in his voice not matching his grumpy expression. “Besides, you seem like a hard worker as well as a musician. You can think it over, but we’re setting sail at sunset, so…”

“I can have my bags packed in thirty minutes!”

*ೃ༄

Certain things became common occurrences once Kit became a Heart Pirate.

The crew soon got used to the hour-long baths the two minks would take together, Kit having gotten Bepo hooked on her fur washing and shampooing routine. There was a basket in the bathroom filled with just their toiletries, fur brushes and claw clippers. Their designated bathing times had turned into spa days, complete with silly gossiping about their crewmates.

On hot days, they would lie on the deck together, both melting beneath the heat of their fur. Kit was eternally grateful to have thinner fur than Bepo, and would happily fetch him cold water or icy treats to help soothe his heatstroke.

On cold nights, it had become routine for Bepo to sneak into Kit’s room and vis versa, the two minks using their body heat to stay warm. Bepo’s nose would twitch as her ears brushed against it, while Kit’s tail would drape over his body like an extra limb cuddling him.

During her first few months with the crew, Bepo would teach Kit how to fight and defend herself. She certainly didn’t have his skills in martial arts, but when he saw her take down an enemy pirate with her sharpened claws and rabid grin, he figured she could probably handle herself.

After seeing Kit struggle with the fit of the boiler suit uniforms, Bepo had gotten one custom-made for her when they were docked at a random island. His heart had raced when he saw her bright smile, excited to finally have a proper uniform that fit comfortably around her petite but pudgy figure.

Neither Kit nor Bepo could pinpoint exactly when their relationship shifted from best friends to lifemates. All they knew was that at some point during their first two years sailing together, they looked at each other and realised ‘Oh, I want to spend my life with you.’

Maybe it was in the small things- the little acts of affection shared between them. Soft white paws fixing grey hair on a windy day. Reassuring smiles and words of comfort in times of doubt. Inside jokes and that special understanding between them.

Perhaps it was in the natural conjoining of two lives. Teaching her to read maps and navigate via stars. Teaching him the melodies of her favourite shanties. Reminiscing on their pasts, and rediscovering their lives as minks and not just ‘furry humans’. Feeling safe and comforted in the knowledge that they’d always have a home within each other.

In nature, neither polar bears nor raccoons found one mate to spend their lives with. Typically, they would find new partners every few weeks. Clearly, being a mink changed some things, because neither of them could even fathom finding someone else. They were soulmates- that much was undeniable.

Honestly, early on in their relationship, the crew hadn’t even realised something had changed between them. They didn’t act any different than they always had- perhaps a testament to the inevitability of their love. Law knew, if only for the fact that Bepo had confided in him about the new development with Kit rather early on.

The captain had smiled to himself, once Bepo left his office, and every time he saw the two affectionate minks from then on. Bepo deserved to be loved, and it was obvious how sweetly and tenderly Kit treated him. And if Bepo, his best friend- his brother- was happy, then so was he.

#kit *ೃ༄#ocs *ೃ༄#one piece #one piece oc #bepo #bepo x oc #one piece x oc #oc x canon #op oc

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devcted · 1 year ago

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she finds that hard to believe that regulus was anything but the most lovely person he could be, after all perfection like him could never be anything less. "well no offense but your mother must be a rather strict woman if she could ever scold someone as perfect as you are for not being perfect enough." she says teasingly, hoping she isn't stepping over any kind of line when speaking of his mother.

everyone knew of the black family, one of the most wealthy pureblood families in the wizarding world as well as one of the few left. meaning they weren't too fond of families like hers. her father amos was considered a 'blood traitor' after he married a muggle born witch and having two children, bee was aware there were wizards who believed muggles didn't belong in their world that muggle born witches and wizards were considered to have dirty blood as their magic didn't come from having one or two magical parents believing they were somehow unworthy of their magical abilities despite their magic coming to them just as everyone else. it made bee sad to think there was so much fear and hatred in the world, that blood held so much importance in their world despite them all bleeding the same. bee would never face the same hate and prejudice as her mother but she still faced some, despite the fact the world was changing there were still those like the house of black and other pureblood families who would never consider her as an equal...but regulus seemed to be different from those he was raised with, after all he was talking to her as if she were just another normal being.

she smiles at his words, shrugging a bit in response. "I don't know you seem like a prince to me?" she purrs. "it must be nice though, having the world at your feet? getting to live in a big home and getting all the things your heart most desires...your family garden must be lovely." she smiles at the thought. bee didn't mind her life, humble and mostly quiet. she loved her garden and the tree her home grew from, it was her life and she was appreciative of it but regulus spoke of his life as if it wasn't exactly perfect and maybe that was her mistake for believing the fairytale that money brought you never ending happiness.

bee knows that they come from two different worlds, he didn't have to want anything to do with her after they left this train. she was a half-blood and a hufflepuff while he was a pure-blood and slytherin for all intent and purposes they should have no reason to communicate ever again but she would like to...if he wanted her she would be his in a moment. blue eyes flicker up towards his gaze as he teases her about cleaning out her ears reminding her of what he just told her and she feels bad for assuming the worst but she sometimes as a difficult time being sure of herself. "I'm sorry, it's a force of habit." she sighs, mentally calling herself an idiot for it. she looks at him curiously as he looks away from her, smiling softly as she nods. "I would like to get to know you too, regulus." bee does hope he truly means it, there's so much she would like to learn about him.

the next thing she learns catches her interest as he goes into what he loves about the amazing newt scamander and his work with dragons. not many wizards cared so much for the creatures, rather deem them wizard-eating beasts than take time to get to know them and their behaviors but the ministry seemed to do that with any creature that they didn't want to take the time to understand. "he's helped so many both creatures and wizards...I want to do something like that one day, change minds like the way the ministry views thestrals and other creatures who just want to live like you and I. I've always been interested in creatures since I was a young girl...that's how I ended up getting this little guy because ive adored nifflers" she says looking towards alfie who was sat in the males lap. "I also have an owl named merlin he's with my brother right now, he's so lovely." she realizes how much she's been talking about herself however, quickly getting shy as her eyes flicker down for a moment. "sorry..."

however his next words cause her to look at him, feeling her heart sink for him a little. "your mother burned your books? which one was it...if you don't mind me asking." she frowns. what kind of parent burned something that their child cared for? of course her father wasn't the biggest fan of her childhood dream, often discouraging her saying she should look for new paths but never would he break or burn something that she cared for, it makes her a bit ill inside almost wanting to scold his mother for being so harsh.

regulus goes on to explain what he dreamed of being when he grew up, how he wanted to help dragons specially and it makes her smile. "well despite what your mother might think I believe that's a very noble and brave thing to want. dragons need people like you, the ones with good hearts who want to help and protect them...and forgive me if I'm stepping over the line but you shouldn't love your life based only on what others want for you. or else you'll become one of those miserable office workers with the kind of job that only looks good in status but doesn't help anyone...maybe less people would be so bitter and cruel if they didn't do that." the thought of being trapped inside an office shoveling through papers gives her hives, she wants to do more than sit around waiting for someone else to make all the changes.

she was only teasing about asking him if he was a charmer so she didn't really expect him to answer her so bluntly and honestly, her cheeks are burning as she blushes, trying to avoid his gaze for a moment as a small smirk grows over his lips. she finds it hard to believe but she doesn't want to argue. "that means a lot coming from someone like you." she says. "no need to apologize..."

the niffler seems happy, quickly making friends with the boy who offered him a shiny ring to be stuffed into his pouch, it makes her heart warm seeing the two interact as they were both the most amazing things to happen to her today. "well thank you, I'm sure he really appreciates your kind gift isn't that right alfie?." she says gently looking towards the tiny creature who was glanced up at her as if he already knew his own name.

she doesn't mean to pout in front of him, as if she was some kid discouraged because her parents said she couldn't have any candy, her tummy growls for a sweet treat but she was willing to let it go until regulus quickly interrupts telling the woman that he would like six...for a moment she forgot how he was made of money as he without even thinking twice hands over the money and the woman hands the boxes over to bee where she sets them in the seat next to her. bee smiles at the kind woman giving her a nod as if to say thank you before the pair are left alone again. "you didn't have to get me any really...but thank you." she promises, hoping he didn't feel obligated to treat her just because they were compartment buddies. she watches as regulus unwraps his, telling her they're also a favorite of his so she reaches for one as well. "I used to be able to eat dozens of these my father would scold me all the time telling me I would get fat if I didn't slow down." which she saw no problem with, if I wasn't supposed to eat so many they wouldn't make them so delicious." she giggles, taking a bite of her first one and humming as it feels like it's melting in he mouth it's so delicious.

“Or just ‘prince’, like my mother always reminded me… She would always tell me when I ‘wasn’t acting like one’.” He says it with a little disdain, because really it was irritating that his own mother never allowed him a break for even a moment. It was always about being the perfect son and making up for whatever she had lost with Sirius.

But he smiles at her words because they’re sweet, reminding him that his name isn’t the issue. He’s thankful that the prettiest girl he’s ever met seems to think he looks like a prince, although he doesn’t understand why she thinks she was embarrassing herself when she’s beautiful and funny. “That’s what my mother wants you to think– that we’re royalty. Not so much, though. Just rich and spoiled.” Compared to Bee, who probably lives in some warm home with flowers she can braid into her hair, he lives in a stuffy mansion, trying to live up to the lofty ideals his family has set in the name of tradition. But none of it ever felt real– at least, not compared to this conversation he’s having with this bright girl right now.

He’s almost jealous of her, even having a relationship with her older brother. Maybe they’re more alike in some ways than she thinks, which makes him happy. He already feels himself wanting to be more like her, even though the thought in his head alone would give his mother a stroke.

He’s busy thinking about how half-bloods aren’t so bad compared to what his mother says, and it catches him off guard when Bee tells him he won’t have to worry about hearing from her. He frowns, the words stinging a little until she continues to explain it’s because she doesn’t think he’ll even remember her.

Her insecurities puzzle him, unable to figure out how someone like her could be struggling with confidence to such a degree. He’s not better than her, but she seems to think he is. “You need to clean those ears out,” he teases. “I just told you that I specifically want to hear from you. And as far as forgetting you; I’ll be lucky if I can stop thinking about you for even a moment after we leave this train.” He pauses, glancing away for a moment. “I don’t know anyone like you, and I’d like to know more.” He frowns, because he knows this is at odds with how he should be acting. He was so sure he was here to put his head down and study; not focus on any entanglements besides his family. He wanted to be a good son and fulfill his parents’ expectations; live up to the family name.

But right now all he wants is to see Bee’s smile again. Would it really be so bad if he allowed himself one girl?

He nods in response to her question, admiring the passion she seems to have for this famous magizoologist and his craft. It’s something his family would’ve chastised him for, and he would’ve listened, so what does that say about him? “Yes… I love his work. The Ministry has never had the best practices when it comes to dragons, so it was special how Newt worked with the Dragon Research and Restraint Bureau to study them more and educate everyone in the process.” He pauses, smiling a little. “You can tell how much the subject means to him… It’s one of my favorite books, besides this one my mother burned when I was younger.”

He likes that she’s so sure of who she is, from the pretty flowers braided in her hair to the firmness in her tone as she states she wants to be a magizoologist. All Regulus has ever done is fit the mold others want him to be, but the longer he talks to Bee, the more he wonders if that’s the right way to live his life. She looks so beautiful talking about it, her face lighting up at the thought of going on those adventures and helping creatures along the way. What he doesn’t expect is for her to ask about his own dreams; most people didn’t, instead assuming or even telling him what they were.

He wonders if he should be honest, but quickly decides he can trust her. Why would she repeat this anywhere, anyway? “Well… I wanted to be a dragonologist, as soon as I started studying creatures. But my mother didn’t take to that idea, so my books were thrown in the fire.”

It feels like a vibe killer, so he quickly answers her other question, hating how thinking about his mother made him sad when it shouldn’t. “No,” he says simply, because he doesn’t ‘charm all the ladies’. He’s never flirted with anyone like this before, or had the desire to. “My village only had so many girls my age and I’ve never seen anyone as beautiful as you.” And none of them had a personality like hers, either. “Forgive me.”

Alfie is as cute as his mother, allowing Regulus to stroke his fur with gentle fingertips. He even takes the gift offered to him, which Bee confirms is okay. It makes Regulus happy to see him playing with the ring, turning it around in his little paws with a pleased look. “I didn’t lose it; I gave it to a friend who it looks muchch better on.” As much as he loves the rings covering his fingers, Alfie looks adorable clutching it.

Interrupting their conversation, the woman with a trolley full of snacks opens their compartment, asking if they’d like anything. Bee immediately lights up, her face even more radiant with that adorable smile as she contemplates the cauldron cakes. But then her expression falls, sadness causing her to pout as she realizes she can’t buy any.

Regulus can’t stand for that; not when she deserves the cakes and more; whatever she wants. “We’ll take six of the cauldron cakes,” he says, pulling out his wallet.

He digs out nine Sickles and three Knuts while the woman passes Bee the cakes. When he’s paid, she leaves and closes their compartment again. Regulus reaches over to snatch a cake from the seat and start unwrapping it. “These are my favorite, too. Eat as much as you’d like and keep the rest.”

#⠀* prose › b. diggory

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mossyshadows · 4 years ago

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your idea of emotional economy is so interesting because that IS often what compilation posts seem intended to do and the ones that aren't effective to me are the ones which just take one word or idea and find instances of that without considering what the author was actually trying to say (except for occasions maybe when it's exploring interpretations of one theme. also i feel like this is done to mitski + ocean vuong constantly). anyway yes very astute it made me think ... everyone trying to either chase or avoid intense emotion

ooh i was thinking abt emotional economy in terms of our response to reading poems vs fragments/comp posts on top of attention levels as in we lack attention but also we lack the emotional investment, but what u say abt that emotional economy being almost the Intention of these posts (if im misinterpreting what u meant lmk !! been a long day lol) is truly food for thought - like is everything in the compilation is meant to evoke one response when put together or do variations provide a greater emotional depth/range of response? though i guess it varies on different people's approach to making them etc! but yes, intention vs outcome. hmm!

guess it's interesting to consider how much the context provides the emotional depth of a piece, and fragmenting and combining different fragments doesn't rly... accumulate emotion as it were!! i think part of it is that when you have a full passage, you have to invest somewhat more in the work. and you don't have that same level of investment for fragments imo? like i rambled in the tags, a poem that's the same length as a comp post, i feel people would more readily read through those fragments than the poem? more emotional investment required -> more emotional response ?!

though how much of all these thoughts is just that i've seen what feels like the same bunch of quotes over and over for a very 'generic' theme and & lack the emotional response bc im just bored now lol . also went off on a little tangent there sry, everytime this topic comes up i just start typing brain mush 😭

#half of this response is just pure Words no thoughts but appreciate this take on it !! love ur mind <3 #like. i do have a sideblog where i tag comp posts by themes lol so this is v much critique of me as well no one get huffy LMAO #which is why im saying i might just be bored bc ive seen so many #so the ones that do have emotional impact for me are the ones that are more novel concepts #asks #fragments #i guess?

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4law · 2 years ago

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❝ 𝐘𝐎𝐔’𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐂𝐇 𝐀 𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐓 ❞ — 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐏𝐈𝐄𝐂𝐄 !

pairings : ace, crocodile, doflamingo, luffy, marco, mihawk, sanji, zoro x f!reader

contains : brat taming, brat taming, brat taming, dacryphilia, overstimulation, size and strength kink, degradation, teasing, mild belly bulge, mating press, choking, subspace / dumbification, + individual tags!

info : 3,000 words. smut. minors/ageless blogs dni. best in dark mode. reblogs are greatly appreciated!

filled requests : one & two. thank you!

— 𝐀𝐂𝐄 ｡ riding, mating press, teasing, size kink, “pretty”

“what’s got you so worked up today, huh?” ace coos, hands gripping the globes of your ass to roughly bounce you up and down his length. your mouth falls open at the fullness, your own nails digging into the muscles of his back to fight the moans threatening to escape your lips.

“you’ve been such a brat..”

he knows you won’t respond, and he knows you’re doing everything in your power to hold back your moans from him. you’re well aware that he’s addicted to the sounds you make, but you’d hate to admit that you just want to see what happens when the second commander of the whitebeard pirates gets impatient with you.

“well?” ace chuckles, shifting his thighs to bounce you deeper on his cock— forcing you to take the entirety of it as you choke out a moan. “you got a reason?”

the subtle smirk on his face widens a bit when he feels you struggle so hard to take him, lewd noises coming directly from your dripping cunt. he tilts his head to plant sloppy kisses down your neck, heavy breaths fanning against your skin.

you can feel his lips tug into a knowing grin. “ahh…i know,” ace whispers just below your ear, “did you just want an excuse for me to stuff with you with my dick?”

you don’t respond, but he doesn’t miss the way your walls tighten around him at the lewd suggestion. you want it bad, you want what he has to offer you, but you want to push him a little more.

“no response huh…” he feigns ignorance.

you’re suddenly flipped onto your back, ace’s muscular body looming over yours as his hands hold each thigh to your chest. “w-wait!” you stutter out.

“if you aren’t gonna respond, i’ll just have to make you show me your voice,” he coos, pressing your thighs up into a mating press to bury his dick back inside your throbbing hole. this angle is deeper, his cock reaching the deepest parts inside of you. “you like it like this, don’t you?”

“i know. because you always tighten up so much.”

ace’s gaze is fixated on your hole, watching it desperately try and swallow his fat length as he pounds into you with pure strength. he loves the sight of it, your juices dripping onto his cock and the way his balls slap against your body with each thrust.

“lemme hear it, pretty. all the cute noises you make for me when you cum. all of them.”

— 𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐂𝐎𝐃𝐈𝐋𝐄 ｡ cunninglingus, overstimulation, is consensual, term “doll” and “brat,” hair pulling (his)

crocodile lets you act out. he lets you hold his head against your cunt, lets you grab a big fistful of his hair and violently tug him closer to you. with every tug, he narrows his eyes at you, a glare that you thought served as an empty warning, simply because he never pulled away from you, but you were wrong.

he lets you do as you wish, eating you out at your pace until you’re too fucked out to even hold his head anymore. that’s when he starts acting on his own desires.

his big arms are wrapped snuggly around your middle to keep you perfectly still for him, forcing you to let him eat you out the way he wants to. his tongue is moving all over your cunt, dragging the flat of his tongue roughly against your pearl before slurping at your slick, lips tugging into a smirk when your thighs tremble in his hold.

“you were suffocating me just a few minutes, doll,” he teases, watching your expressions.

“n…no more, crocodile, ‘m sorry.”

your words come out slurred, half lidded eyes staring at him, the one who’s settled between your thighs with his hands easily wrapped around each leg. your hand comes to grasp at his head weakly, only for his much larger hand to lace itself between your fingers, giving you a squeeze as a silent warning before pinning your arm off to your side.

“quit squirming, you brat,” he warns, eyes locking with yours before his lips tug into a smirk.

he absolutely loves this look on your face, the one you make when you’re fucked dumb, squirmy body finally still as you accept your fate and take what he has to offer.

crocodile tilts his head, resting his cheek on the inside of your thigh to look up at you through his lashes, chuckling when your cheeks fill with heat at his gaze.

“i’ll show you what happens to brats who act up.”

— 𝐃𝐎𝐅𝐋𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐎 ｡ tw dacryphilia, mild choking, term “slut,” size & maybe strength kink

on a normal day, just trying to take doflamingo’s cock was a challenge in itself. it takes a lot of prep, a lot of lube, and a lot of time before you can manage to fit even half of it in your little hole. today is no different, the thickness of his cock practically splitting you in half as it pummels the deepest parts of you.

a large hand slams over your mouth, muffling your sobs. “don’t make me so mad,” doflamingo coos into your ear, “how many times do i have to tell you?”

he lifts your smaller frame up with ease, until just the head of his cock is sheathed inside your cunt. “you know what happens when you make me mad, don’t you?”

you shyly nod, sniffling into your arm as he watches in amusement. he doesn’t hide the fact that he gets off to you struggling to take him, and the faces you make when your attitude finally breaks down— the face you make when you realize you never had a chance to take control of what would happen in the first place.

a loud squeal escapes your lips when doflamingo suddenly slams you back on his length, entire cock buried inside your cunt in one swift movement. “y-yes! i know what happens—” you hiccup, heat rising to your cheeks when he chuckles.

“that’s my little slut…you’re so smart..” he grins, finger hooking underneath your chin to force your eyes to lock with his. “tell me what happens when you make me mad.”

“i have to…t-take…whatever you give me..!”

there’s a short pause, and your stomach sinks when his tongue clicks at your error, hand wrapping around your throat in an instant. “wrong.”

“why…!”

he chuckles harder, not missing the way your walls clench so pathetically around the cock splitting you open. “it’s not ‘have to.’ he corrects, squeezing your throat gently until you squeeze your eyes shut and whine.

“you get to. it’s my gift. be sure to remember it, even after i fuck all the thoughts outta you.”

— 𝐋𝐔𝐅𝐅𝐘 ｡ extremely mild belly bulge, luffy pins u down by ur hands & then ur stomach, overstimulation

luffy’s hand wraps around both of yours, pinning them high above your head as he pounds into you with swift thrusts.

“i said stop moving.”

his voice is just a bit lower than usual, a tinge of seriousness in his tone. he’s always relentless with you, hips moving against yours on pure instinct as your body sways up and down from his roughness, his figure reduced to a blur.

a heavy grunt escapes his lips, and his free hand pushes down on your stomach to keep you from arching. “i gotta keep you still,” he exhales, “or i’m gonna slip out.”

his breath hitches in his throat when he feels it. with the angle he’s pounding into you from, he can faintly feel the outline of his dick when he bottoms out, just barely able to feel it underneath the skin of your stomach.

“i’m d-deep,” he stutters loudly, wide eyes suddenly darkening at the thought of his cock so deep inside you. his pace doesn’t falter, and he adjusts his thighs to pound into you harder, to see just how deep he can really get.

you’re too overstimulated to even whine, let alone complain, and your eyes roll back as you let him hold you down and use you. he never even gave you a chance to be a brat, holding you down with so much strength that you have no other choice but to lay there and take everything he has to offer you.

you can never tell if he’s being selfish or selfless, but you aren’t able to think that much right now anyways. especially not after he’s just figured out how much you tighten for him when he applies a bit of pressure onto your front.

“stay still. i wanna get deeper,” he says, fingers coming to rub at your clit. “wanna see how much further i can go. and i wanna see your face when i do it.”

— 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐎 ｡ tw dacryphilia (extremely mild & just a mention), term “baby,” kisses, light choking

“you needa behave, baby,” marco sighs into your ear. “or do i needa teach you all over again?”

his eyes narrow in on the way your hole desperately flutters around his length, your legs wrapped around his hips to pull him in closer. he wants to take his time with you though, and you’re not letting him.

“did i not teach you well last time?” he coos, hips moving agonizingly slow against yours. “i thought i did…seeing you cry over how well i was fucking you…”

a deep groan escapes his lips when your walls tighten around his cock in response, fluttering eagerly around his length. “is that it?” he sighs, “you want that again?”

he chuckles when you nod, a visible pout on your face from how slow he’s going. you want more. you want him to pin you down by the neck and pound you with his full strength— not to say that the way his cock is slowly dragging against your walls isn’t already bringing you to the edge.

“all you had to do was ask, pretty.”

marco’s hand comes to wrap gently around your neck, half lidded eyes watching your expressions carefully as he picks up the pace, aiming to pummel the spot that has you seeing stars the fastest.

your jaw drops at the roughness, your thighs barely able to continue hugging his hips— so your arms come to wrap around him, pulling him onto you and accidentally pushing him deeper inside you. your eyes widen from the way he’s slamming directly into your cervix.

“d-deep!” you stammer out, eyes wide from just how far inside his dick feels, your cunt completely full each time he bottoms out. you arch your back, a futile attempt to escape the overstimulation he’s giving you, but his hand quickly wraps around your neck, keeping you pinned on his bed so he can have his way with you.

“well, that’s what happens when you latch onto me like a koala huh?” he chuckles, leaning down to prop himself onto his elbows as he plants wet kisses along your jawline.

“why don’t you spread those pretty legs wider for me? let’s see if you can feel me in your stomach.”

— 𝐌𝐈𝐇𝐀𝐖𝐊 ｡ u sent him nudes while he was at a meeting, lingerie

“i was at a meeting.”

mihawk’s voice is low, holding both of your wrists behind your back with a single hand as he bends you over his dining table. “could you not wait until i came back?”

you can’t hide the cheeky grin spreading across your face. your curiosity got the best of you, wondering how the greatest swordsman would react if you sent him a photo of you in lingerie, black lace with green accents accentuating your curves so nicely for him.

and of course, you knew he’d be mad, but you didn’t know he’d look so hot like this. “can’t wait,” you retort, lips tugging into a grin when you think of an idea. “i haven’t been able to cum in a long time after all.”

there’s a brief moment of silence, your own stomach flipping at the realization that you just indirectly accused a warlord of not being able to make you finish.

you gasp when your thong is pulled upwards, lace slipping roughly between your folds as he tugs on it. mihawk sighs heavily above you, eyeing you with an unknown expression you wish you could see right now.

“you need to get put in your place.” he says flatly, letting go of the fabric to have it slap against your skin. a hand comes down to press on your back when you jolt upwards, keeping you flat against the table for him. “you’ve been too bold. sending me those pictures while i was out, and acting the way you are now..”

“don’t think that you’ll be able to come out of this room able to walk.”

— 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐉𝐈 ｡ praise, “angel,” “my love,” cunninglingus

sanji is always so eager to please you. his hands are running up and down your sides, head nestled comfortably between your thighs. his eyes are focused on your cunt, grinning at the way you’re dripping— all of that for him.

“what am i going to do with you, angel?” he sighs, but you know good and well that he’s happy to take care of you.

your hands roughly tug at his disheveled hair, pulling him closer to your throbbing cunt, but he doesn’t budge. he’s gently massaging your tits, letting you relax in his touch.

“you just have to ask nicely, and i’ll give you what you deserve. say ‘please’ for me.”

you want to act up, you really do, but he’s so precise with his touches, fingers tugging at your nipples before lightly rolling them between his fingers, drawing the prettiest noises from your lips.

“did you hear me, my love?”

sanji slowly drags the flat of his tongue up your thigh, cock twitching at the way you shiver from it. “if you’re good for me, i’ll make you feel even better,” he whispers into you.

“p-please…sanji,” you mumble against the back of your hand.

his heart flutters at how cute you are, hiding behind your hand even when your legs are spread wide open to let him in. he lets out a chuckle— one only filled with adoration and love— before his hands hook around your thighs, pulling you flush against his face.

in an instant, two fingers are deep inside your cunt, curling them against your favorite spot as his tongue eagerly flicks over your clit. he knows your spots like the back of his hand, and he knows each reaction you’ll give him depending on where he touches you.

“see?” he says between licks, “it was easy, wasn’t it? now i’ll reward my angel.”

his fingers curl faster against your spot, pummeling it with frightening precision as you sob loudly.

“cum for me if you want your next reward.”

— 𝐙𝐎𝐑𝐎 ｡ very heavy overstimulation, dumbification / touch of subspace

“what do i have to do for you to stop teasing me in public?” he snarls from where he’s looming over you, arms trapping you against his workout bench as he buries his cock inside your cunt. “huh? answer me.”

he didn’t intend on fucking the life out of you, but the sight of you, too overwhelmed by how he feels, only makes him harder.

your mouth falls open when he pounds into you faster, body rocking up and down with the force of his thrusts. he’s so big when he’s hovering over you like this, wide chest reduced to a blur as your eyes roll back.

“want me to bend you over your own bed and take you until you’re too dumb to think up these little plans of yours?”

he’s not sure if you can comprehend what he’s saying, but he continues anyways, bringing a thumb down to swipe over your clit roughly, drawing a loud cry from you.

“tell me. what’s it gonna take?”

“i don’t…i don’t know….” you sob, chest heaving up and down from the overstimulation. his pace doesn’t falter, hips brutally slamming into yours. “need me to fuck the manners into you? stuff you with load after load until you’re full?”

his hand dips down to squeeze your cheeks together, puffing your lips out as he makes you look at him. “where’d your sass go?” he snarls.

“you tell me, since you wanna be a brat so bad. what’s it gonna be?”

“z-zoro…needa cum..” you slur, half lidded eyes pleading with his to the best of your ability. “let me…”

he watches as your mouth falls open again, back of your hand covering your eyes as you lay there and take it. your cunt is barely able to keep up, dripping hole spreading to let him deeper inside and take care of you. “can’t talk anymore, huh?” he grins.

he cups the back of your head, lifting your body closer to his to let you cling onto him like a koala. “it’s too early for you to drift away though. come back.”

“i still needa teach you a thing or two.”

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amatchinwater · 2 years ago

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I Know What You Want from Me (part 2) | Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Summary: There's a lot of fluff...like, a lot of fluff. Kinda sorry, but also not lol. Eddie takes you home after your time in the woods and takes care of you as promised. Then your relationship blooming with one another to fulfill a much needed sweet tooth. Flash forward to finding out if Eddie graduates or not after you helped tutor him.

Warnings: 18+, drug use, sexual content (no condom, reader on the pill), fingering, oral (f receiving, m mentioned), spanking, choking, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, creampie, mentions of your parents (but no interaction cause found family), a very cheesy date, what could again be seen as subspace if you squint, slight dom!Eddie (again, if you squint real hard), I think that's it (let me know otherwise)

Words: 8997

a/n: I know Nothing Else Matters didn't come out until '91, but let's just pretend it was earlier. Okay? Okay, lol. Other than that, I hope you enjoy. I'm still reeling over the love for I Know What You Want From Me. I just- it's crazy and I'm super grateful that you guys liked it to much. Every single note put a smile on my face. I appreciate all of you! Thank you 💚

Requests are open. Masterlist. Part one

Not my gif!! Credit to creator!!

You fell asleep in the passenger seat with a can of pringles and a half drunk bottle of water in your lap. Eddie had you curled up in his seat with him for a few minutes once you’d reached his van, making sure you actually drank some of the water before your heavy eyes lost their battle to stay open. He rubbed soothing strokes along your back, peppering kisses in your hair, while you consumed the liquid that tasted like pure heaven to your fucked out senses.

As fuzzy as your brain still was, the incredibly sweet nature in which he treated you after fucking your brains out made your heart practically sing in your chest. If you hadn’t already loved Eddie, you’d have fallen for him right on the spot. Him trying to coax you awake is just as soft and sweet, but you want nothing to do with it. Pinching your eyes closed to try and will yourself back into unconsciousness.

“Come on, princess,” Eddie gently shakes your shoulder, trying to wake you up. You just groan in response, your head lolling to the side as you squint your eyes open at him. Sleeping for another several hours definitely sounds ideal right now. “Okay, I get it,” he chuckles under his breath, reaching over you to click open your seatbelt. Looping an arm around your neck and under your knees, Eddie scoops you up into his arms, kicking the car door closed behind him. “I believe m’lady requested food and a bath.”

“Now why would I go and say a stupid thing like that?” You grumble, curling into his neck, a contented sigh rushing through your nose. Even the slight sweat mixing in with his scent is comforting because it’s him.

Eddie laughs at you, carrying you up the steps to the trailer, “because you needed them. Wouldn’t have asked otherwise.” He holds you tightly to him for balance so he can open the front door, “if my girl asks for something, she gets it.” His use of ‘my girl’ unleashes a swarm of butterflies in your stomach. You’re not sure you’ll ever get over hearing it now that it’s for real.

“Well, now I’m asking for sleep,” you tease, hoping it will work.

It doesn’t.

“Nice try, princess,” Eddie kisses the top of your head as your traitorous stomach growls. “But you should really eat something…and uh,” he laughs smugly, moving into the kitchen, “your pants are kind of soaked.”

“Okay, that’s fai-”

“What the hell happened to you, darlin’?” Wayne’s voice cuts you off and you lift your tired head to look at him.

A violent blush burns your cheeks because what the fuck are you supposed to tell him?

Good thing Eddie’s always looking out for you. “Someone here thought it’d be a good idea to defend your devious nephew from some jocks. Cracked ‘em a few times with a baseball bat she apparently owns.” Wayne’s eyes grow comically large. “Yeah, same,” Eddie remarks on his uncle’s reaction. “She got a little-” he seems to ponder his word choice, “-shaky once the adrenaline wore off from kicking the shit out of Jason and his goons.”

Wayne seems only partially convinced as he takes in your disheveled hair, the still hazy look in your eyes, and the litany of marks on your neck. “Should I be worried about the police stopping by?” He grabs his lunchbox and keys off the kitchen counter, walking towards the front door.

“Nah,” Eddie snorts, “I think Jason would be too scared of invoking her wrath again if he did that.”

Eddie’s uncle nods, turning the knob and opening the door, “oh, and Eddie?”

“Yeah?” He stops halfway down the hall, you still in his arms wanting to very much pass back out.

“I wasn’t born yesterday, let's not have any mini Eddie’s running around just yet, yeah?”

Embarrassment wracks your frame and you groan, shoving your head into Eddie’s neck to hide the violent blush on your cheeks. Eddie lets out a hearty cackle, “we were careful!” He swears, carrying you into the bathroom when the front door closes. “Okay, princess,” Eddie sets you down on the closed toilet seat to start the bath for you while you take your shoes off. Filling it generously, your favorite scented soap floods the room, steam rising from the heat. Just the way you like it. “I’m gonna go make you something to eat, okay?”

You pause with your shirt halfway over your head. “No, wait,” you grab his wrist, stopping him from leaving. “You’re not going to stay with me?” You can’t help the pout even if you wanted to. Being away from Eddie is the last thing you want right now.

“Well,” Eddie smiles softly at you, “you just want me to sit in here with you…” he trails off, lips curling into a wider grin. “Or do you want me in the tub?”

“In the tub,” you respond without a second thought. That sounds fucking perfect. Cuddling up in the bath together while he just holds you? Sign you the fuck up. You’re fully capable of taking a bath by yourself. But, well, you want Eddie. You don’t really feel as fuzzy as before, but having him close to you seems like the best thing for you. “I don’t mean to be needy, but I just reall-”

“Woah, hey,” he cups your cheeks, “you’re not being needy, sweetheart. I asked you what you needed before we even left the woods for a reason. So if some physical contact is what you need, then I’m more than happy to give it to you, okay?” You nod, reveling at just how lucky you are to have Eddie. “Okay, let me get something in the oven at least, and then I’ll come back and join you,” Eddie offers, petting your hair to calm you back down. “Sound good?”

“Thank you,” you offer a small smile.

“Always, princess,” Eddie looks at you seriously, “always.” With one last kiss placed on your lips, he walks out of the bathroom.

Waiting until you hear clanking in the kitchen, you discard the rest of your clothes. Practically needing to peel your now tacky jeans from your skin. If you weren’t so ready to fall back to sleep, you’d be a little more disgusted about it. But even then, you probably wouldn’t be. Because it’s just literal proof of having been with Eddie. That that beautiful, wonderful man is yours. Properly this time.

You dip your toes into the warm water, sitting into the tub with a loud groan. Yeah, this is just what the doctor ordered. The bath is doing wonders at soothing your sore muscles and sensitive pussy. There’s a few bruises on your hips that make you smile, surely- hopefully- your neck matches. He’d really done a number on you and you didn’t even realize it. But fucking hell was it worth it. You quickly turn the water off before it can get too full and stretch out, leaning your head against the tile wall.

Humming a pleased sigh, you close your eyes. Perfect. It’s absolutely perfect. The only thing that could make it better-

“We’ve got about forty minutes until dinner’s ready,” Eddie places a timer on the sink, his jacket and vest left in the kitchen. He rubs his hands together, kicking off his shoes, “time for some T.L.C.” You watch him through tired eyes as he takes the rest of his clothes off, realizing that this is actually the first time you get to see him naked. Something Eddie must realize too, cooing, “that’s right,” slowing the movements of unclasping his belt, “you want a show, princess?” Eddie wiggles his eyebrows at you, making you giggle.

“Yes, please,” your eyes fixating on him, propping your head on your elbow.

Eddie’s belt comes off with a flourish, extending his arm he promptly drops it to the floor. When his fingers curl into the hem of his shirt, you giggle again as his hips sway to a beat in his head, lifting the fabric over his torso. Good, god, he’s beautiful. Covered in more tattoos than you thought, proven when his pants shimmy down his legs revealing more ink than taking off his shirt had. The moment is broken completely when you see just how caked his boxers are to his skin and you cackle.

“Hey,” he chuckles, “that’s all your fault.” Eddie grins devilishly at the scarlett hue of your cheeks. “It’ll wash out,” he assures you, winking, “then you can do it all over again.” Eddie’s eyes never leave yours as he peels the fabric off, lowering them to his ankles. Leaving himself exposed in all of his glory as he toes out of them. Your half awake mind barely finds the strength to not drool over him. Even soft, he’s by no means small. “See something you like, princess?”

His voice snaps you out of your trance, “huh? Oh- uh,” you blush hotly, “I’m, um- you’re just-” you narrow your eyes, pinching your mouth closed to stop yourself from saying something stupid. Or to just stop the babbling that was surely about to start.

“Easy, pretty,” Eddie steps closer, gently leaning you forward to tuck himself behind you in the bathtub, “I was only teasing. You’re cute when you get flustered is all,” he pulls you back against his chest, his ring clad hand tenderly brushing your arm. “This what my girl needed?” Eddie asks, wrapping his other arm around your torso to keep you close, his chin resting on your shoulder.

You can only hum in response, your head resting against his chest. A content sigh leaving your lips as the hand on your arm trails to your stomach. The strokes of his fingers are still delicate and sweet, but there must be magic or something in those fingertips because when he teases farther down- no devious intention in mind, just aimlessly touching you- your breath hitches in your throat.

“And here I thought you’d be done, sweet thing. You were so fucked out you passed out in the van,” he chuckles in your ear. “I didn’t mean anything by it, but if you want more,” Eddie brushes a little lower, teasing at the curls of hair before coming back up, “all you have to do is ask.” The words are kissed into the side of your neck, flaring goosebumps despite the heat of the water and the body against your back.

“Eddie,” you whisper out a whine.

“Hmm?” He hums, still peppering your neck with kisses, continuing to dip his fingers enough to make warmth pool in your gut, but not nearly as low as you want them to be. Already need them to be. His voice drops sensually thick, “you want something, princess?”

“T-touch me,” your breath stilts once more, “please.”

“I am touching you,” he gives a love bite to your pulse, circling his finger around your folds, causing you to moan and your legs to spread as much as the tub will allow. You whine a groan in frustration when Eddie pulls his hand back again, leaving you needy and throbbing, walls clenching around a finger that hasn’t even gone inside you yet. “Alright,” he chuckles again, “I’m sorry. I just wanted to make sure you really wanted to do this. I wasn’t exactly gentle earlier. Don’t wanna hurt you, baby.”

He doesn’t give you even a chance to worry that he’s changing his mind, fingers pushing past the tuft of hair, circling with pressure on your clit. You moan, head digging into his chest as you try to throw it back from the sensation. You feel like a live wire. Ready to spark at any given moment. To be put back together by the same skilled hand making you fall apart so beautifully. “Eddie,” you gasp, two fingers plunge deep inside making you see stars at his expert finding of the bundle of nerves inside of you.

“That’s my girl,” Eddie groans in your ear, feeling your pussy clench around him as he pumps faster, harder. Building your orgasm at a rate that whitens your vision and your hands dig crescent moons into his thighs. “Come on, princess. Squeeze that pretty pussy. I can feel how close you are,” he purrs in your ear, licking over another bite on your neck.

Electricity crackles through your limbs, legs shaking with the exertion of your orgasm winding tightly inside you. Begging to snap, release the floodgates like a cracked dam. Your clit throbs almost painfully with the need to be touched. “Shit,” you gasp under your breath. “Eddie, Eddie, fuck-” you moan, writhing in his lap, “please.”

“So pretty like this,” Eddie praises. “So pretty,” he repeats, pressing his palm into your throbbing clit and that throws you over the edge. Pinching your eyes closed and crying out from your orgasm as your pussy spasms around Eddie’s fingers. “Good girl,” he drawls, slowing his thrusts to gentle you through it. But not really stopping, keeping the fire licking inside. “Got another one for me?” Eddie asks, curling into the spongy part of you, making you shake, “whaddya say, princess? One more? Or are you too sensitive now?”

“Eddie,” your breathless voice echoes in the small room, “please, I-” want another one? Can’t take any more? You don’t know, but your hips grind into his hand otherwise, the way his fingers keep brushing against that sweet spot inside of you has you teetering towards another orgasm like the first one didn’t just happen. So you just whisper, “please,” again, grinding down.

The hand around your waist moves up so that Eddie can place a hold on your exposed throat, rings biting into your skin. “My fucking girl,” he groans, working his fingers in your cunt faster until you’re gasping for breaths, eyes fluttering with their struggle to stay open. “That’s right,” Eddie nearly growls in your ear, “always got just one more for me, right?”

You don’t process that him saying always like this isn’t the literal second time he’s had his hands on you. Because you couldn’t care less. You don’t plan on going anywhere and know for damn certain that he’s absolutely right. As long as it’s Eddie doing it, you’ll always have one more in you. Not that you can really voice that right now, the water from the tub splashing with Eddie’s efforts and your eyes roll back, everything releasing at once. “Eddie,” his name, a screamed moan from your lips as your cunt convulses while you come.

This time, Eddie slows his fingers, easing you through your orgasm with soft kisses behind your ear. His thumb stroking lovingly at your erratic pulse, whispering, “you did so good, princess, so good. Thank you,” another kiss to your temple this time as he pulls his fingers out. “Now, you just relax,” he says, getting your hair wet, “and let Eddie take care of you, sweetheart.”

Even still in the post bliss of your orgasm, you sit up and giggle, “did you just talk about yourself in the third person?”

“Sure did,” Eddie quips, uncapping the bottle of shampoo to wash your hair. “Problem?” He teases, lathering the soap in and you let out a sigh, eyes drooping shut from the tender intimacy. When all you offer is a hum in the way of an answer, Eddie chuckles through his nose, working on getting you clean. Once satisfied with both of your cleanliness, he gets out of the tub, quickly drying off so he can wrap you in a towel of your own.

The pair of you dry your hair off before going into his room. You dig through your underwear drawer, trying to find a pair comfortable enough to sleep in when Eddie kisses your shoulder. “Something tells me,” he rests his chin where his lips had just been, “these will be much more comfortable than any of the panties you own. As pretty as they all are.”

Turning to face him, you see he’s holding a Rob Zombie t-shirt and a pair of his plaid boxers. “Why, Mr. Munson,” you cross your arms to your chest in faux annoyance, “how would you know what all of my panties look like? Has someone been snooping?”

Eddie snorts, “no. You’ve been living here for months, I’ve seen you do your laundry more than once.” You cock an eyebrow, playing unamused. You really don’t care if he’d gotten curious and peeped in your underwear drawer. “Okay, fine. I might have taken a peak in your underwear drawer. Should I be sorry about that?”

Shaking your head you laugh, “I don’t care, Eds. You did the same thing when we were younger too. I’m not really surprised. Besides,” you playfully snatch the clothes from him, winking, “you’ll see them all on me sooner or later.”

“Can you please wear the red ones next time? Please,” Eddie asks, unashamed of himself, massive grin on his face over pleading, puppy dog eyes.

Your lips curl around the edges, “I’ll wear the whole set.” Patting his cheek lightly, you walk away and drop the towel.

“There’s a whole set?” Eddie exclaims and another laugh bubbles in your chest.

“So you didn’t go through everything?” You tease, tugging on the boxers and shirt, plopping down on the mattress.

Yanking his own Slayer shirt over his head, “no,” Eddie rebukes. “That’d be weird,” he says, grabbing the wooden box off his dresser while you shake your head fondly at him. “Care to join me?” He shakes the box, sitting down beside you.

“That sounds perfect,” you say, excitedly sitting up and bunching a pillow in your lap. When your shoulders brush, a strange sense of calm and giddiness tangles in your stomach. Being with Eddie feels natural, no longer strained like it was when you were trying to hide your feelings for him. But now? With the cat out of the bag and absolutely purring, your heart does several funny things in your chest, bringing a slight tinge to your cheeks.

It’s nice.

“Yes!” Eddie’s legs bounce in their criss-cross position when he opens the tin and finds two joints, rolled and ready to go. “I thought I had rolled extra the last time we smoked,” he purses his lips, tilting his head down to look at you, “but we were also pretty high.” Eddie breaks off in a laugh that you can’t help but giggle along to. “I wasn’t sure if I’d imagined it or not,” he takes out one of the joints and a lighter, closing the tin and tossing it on the mattress. “Glad I didn’t.”

“Me too, Mr. Munson,” you tease, swiping the rolled paper on its way to his mouth, placing it in yours instead.

Mock offense flashes on Eddie’s face before all he can do is smile wide and lovingly at you. “Slippery, little minx, aren’t you, princess?” He shakes his head with a laugh, flicking the lighter on and extending the flame for you. “I’m sure you need it after today,” Eddie muses while you focus on lighting the joint and taking a long drag once properly lit. “How are you feeling, by the way?”

“I’m fine, Eddie,” you say, holding the smoke in your lungs. Exhaling, you smile, “I promise. I’m a little sore, but,” you wave the joint, “you’re helping with that. The bath was really nice too,” playfully nudging his knee, you take another hit. “The fuzziness is gone now too. I’d tell you if I wasn’t or if there was anything else I needed,” you assure him and the tension finally pulls out of his forehead.

Satisfied with your answer, Eddie holds his hand out for the joint which you gladly hand over, leaning into him. Placing the rolled paper between his lips, Eddie takes a drag, maneuvering his arm around you, his other hand pulling your legs into his lap. “Much better, baby,” he exhales the smoke, brushing his nose with yours. “I can’t tell you how long I’ve wanted to do this with you.”

Taking the joint back from him, you giggle already feeling the effects of your first big hit. Before taking another, you state, “we’ve smoked together plenty of times.”

“That’s not what I mean,” he replies, laughing softly at the coughing fit your much too big drag conjured. He leans down to kiss your head, rubbing your calf. “I meant not having to pretend like I don’t want to be touching you every second that I’m around you. That I actually get to hold you now. It’s ni-” the timer in the bathroom dings, cutting him off. “That’ll be the food,” he pats your leg and you groan. “Unless you want to eat burnt lasagna, I suggest you let me up, sweetheart.”

Grumbling, you lift your legs off his lap, pulling another hit into your lungs and handing the almost burnt paper back to Eddie. Pinching it carefully in his fingers, he kisses your forehead, throwing himself off the bed to go get your dinner. Good thing too. Because as much as you didn’t want the warmth of Eddie to go away, your stomach rumbles violently in demand of meat and cheesy goodness.

—

“Would you play for me?” You lift your head a bit from his thigh, his fingers still gently stroking your hair. Belly full of lasagna and weed, a song from Eddie is the perfect thing to send you back off to dreamland.

The peaceful grin of his face widens to a full on smile, opening his eyes and ducking his chin to look at you. “Sure thing, princess,” Eddie offers you one last scratch before coaxing you out of his lap. While he grabs his acoustic guitar, you curl up with a pillow, waiting patiently. “Any requests?” Eddie asks, sitting down beside you, guitar in his lap.

“Whatever you want, Eddie,” you smile, humming softly to yourself as you nuzzle into the bed. “Something soft though,” you decide, wanting to be able to fall asleep to it.

Eddie chews his lip for a minute, before strumming all the strings, “I know just the thing. One of your favorites if I’m not mistaken,” he sets to tuning the guitar to where he wants it before playing. It takes you a couple of seconds to realize what he’s playing for you.

A cheesy, high induced, Eddie centered smile plasters itself to your face as his fingers pluck away Nothing Else Matters by Metallica. By far the softest song they’ve ever written. But it was meant for Hetfield’s girlfriend. To prove to her that while he was away on tour, he loved and missed her. It makes your eyes water with happy tears that this is the song Eddie chose to play for you.

You’re about to tell him exactly how sweet he is, but Eddie starts to hum and very softly sing the lyrics to you and your heart stutters in your chest before swelling about four sizes too big. So rather than interrupt him, you curl closer, careful not to bump his arm strumming the guitar and let your eyes drift closed. The warm, fuzzy feeling in your chest shrouding you like a blanket. It’s perfect. Eddie’s perfect. And you couldn’t ask for anything better.

—

“Come on, Eddie, you can do this!” You encourage him from where you’re sitting on the bed. Eddie’s on the floor in front of you drowning in text books and papers. “You managed to pull yourself up to a C in her class! I know you can do this, baby, you’re just getting in your head.” Looking over his shoulder, you see he’s still stuck on the same problem from ten minutes ago. “Remember, what you do to one side-”

“You have to do to the other,” Eddie finishes your sentence with a sigh. “I know, you’ve ingrained that into my brain, princess. The execution, however, could use a little work. I keep getting the wrong answer,” he grumbles, hastily erasing the work he’d done to start over.

Sitting up, you bracket him with your legs, rubbing his shoulders, “one wrong answer isn’t going to fail you, Eds.” Because checking his paper again, every prior answer is correct. “O’Donnell was kind enough to give out the exam beforehand so everyone could properly study. And Eds, you’re doing great!” Muttering something under his breath, he turns his head, nipping at your thigh. You squeal, wiggling your legs around him, his hair tickling the abused flesh. “I’m serious! This one equation can kick rocks because you’ve gotten all the others right so far. How about you skip it and go back to it later?”

“Can’t we do something else?” Eddie whines, his hands coming up to your calves. “I’m going crazy over here, sweetheart.”

“How about this,” you plop down on the floor beside him, “you finish this and then we can do whatever you want. Okay? Wrong answers or not and we’ll try again later. But I want to see you working Eddie, not filling in random answers to get out of this.”

“But-”

“Eddie, I want to graduate with you,” you tell him softly. You’re not wanting him to feel like he’s being guilted into this. But it’s the truth, you want to watch him walk that stage in the same stupid cap and gown you’ll be wearing. “You’ve worked so hard to get your grades up and you’re doing an amazing job. Principal Higgins deserves you flipping him off,” you jab him with your elbow, trying to get him to smile.

He does you one better, snickering with a wide grin on his face. “You make a damn good point, princess.” Eddie picks his pencil back up, pausing over the paper, “anything I want?”

Unsure of what you’re agreeing to, you smile and nod, “anything you want.”

—

You had honestly thought that when Eddie gave you that devious grin that it was dripping with sexual connotations. It wasn’t. Apparently anything Eddie wants means going to the arcade in town for a cute little date together. After spring break and with summer coming up, Eddie’s been dealing a lot more lately. Meaning he’s had a lot more cash to spare. So more dates have been occurring lately and you’re hardly complaining.

While your parents haven’t asked for the money back, you also haven’t touched it either. You got a job at the video store with Robin and Steve. It’s not much, but it’s enough to get you guys by and not have to change anything about your lifestyle. You’re keeping the money from your parents as a safety net. Or if you and Eddie wanted to get a place of your own. Or- not that you’ve mentioned it- if he wants to pursue a career in music, it’s more than enough of a cushion to get you whatever you might need for it. With half of his band still having a year of school left, if you need to stay in Hawkins, you can.

“I figured whatever you wanted would involve a lot less clothes,” you tease as he opens the door to the arcade for you.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Eddie places a hand at the small of your back, leaning into your ear, “that’ll be when we get back home.” His laugh is sensual and it sends a shiver down your spine at the promise of his hands on you again. “What do you want to play first?”

“Donkey Kong is open!” You exclaim, running over to the game to make sure that it stays that way.

Eddie just laughs at your antics, “I’ll go get us some tokens,” he kisses your shoulder as he passes by to the counter. When he comes back, his jacket pocket is jingling loudly, “ladies first,” he smiles, producing a golden coin for you.

You both take turns, trying to help one another out when you don’t notice a barrel coming your way or an enemy. Elatedly cheering each other on when you survive to the next level. Even when you move onto Galaga, it’s the same. You’d never really considered how much fun it would be to just play games together. It’s always been fun to watch movies, so this really isn’t all that different.

“Ooo, ouch,” Eddie winces when a block of spaceships crashes into you, blowing up your little fighter ship. “How about,” he wraps his arm around your shoulder, turning you towards the row of skee-ball machines, “we play something for tickets? You can let me show off,” he winks at you, poking your nose so you giggle. “That way I can win you whatever prize you want, like a proper date.”

“Eddie, I’m no good at that game,” you pout, Mrs. Pac-Man calling your name. “I won’t be able to play with you.”

“Lucky for you,” he guides you over to an empty game, “I’m very good at skee-ball.” Eddie hugs you from behind, placing a kiss on your neck before pulling a token from his pocket and sliding in into the slot. “I promise you, princess, any prize you want.” You want to protest that he doesn’t have to win anything for you for tonight to be proper. That is until he picks up the first ball and it glides right into the top corner pocket and your jaw drops. “Told ya,” Eddie winks at you, another ball effortlessly following the first.

Eddie has the game cheer ‘new high score’ after his first round. Only to play it a second time and have it cheer for him again. The smile on your face aches, thoroughly proud of him and overjoyed at how happy he seems. The amount of tickets he wins is startling if not intimidating and you struggle to keep them in order.

“Let’s go see those prizes,” he shakes the massive amount of tickets, earning a giggle from you. Looping your arm in his, you let him guide you back towards the counter. “What’ll it be, M'Lady?”

Nothing in the cases really catches your attention, so you look at the wall of stuffed animals and your eyes light up. “That,” you say, pointing towards a giant purple and green dragon breathing fire. Then you see how many tokens it’s worth, it’s the third highest amount, “think you have enough?”

He snorts, “oh yeah. ‘Scuse me?” Eddie gets the attention of the teenager behind the counter, “she’ll take the dragon, please.”

The girl takes the tickets and starts feeding them into a machine to count them. After grabbing the dragon down and handing it to you, she says, “you still have four hundred tickets left over. Anything else you guys want?”

“Can I pick this time?” Eddie asks, not even looking at you, gaze fixated on something in the cases you can’t see.

“Of course,” you smile, cuddling with your giant stuffed animal. “You won the tickets, after all.”

“Those, please,” Eddie points towards the glass and between your dragon and his shoulder blocking the angle, you’re not sure what he’s chosen. “Thank you,” he smiles, taking a small black box from the girl. Leaning on the counter, Eddie faces you, biting his lip, “open it,” he instructs, holding it out for you.

Stuffing as much of the creature in your arms as you can, you grab the box, opening it to find two rings inside of it. One a massive dragon head that looks similar to the one you’re holding, and a smaller one with a purple orb being held by a scaly, clawed hand. “Eddie,” you whisper, overwhelmingly happy about the sheer corniness of the situation. But so fucking in love with him for doing it for you that you don’t even care.

It’s cheesy as all hell, but that’s what makes it so sweet.

“Well,” he smiles, curling his shoulder with a shy grin, “for one, they match your dragon. Two,” Eddie wraps an arm around the small of your back, bringing you as close as your stuffed animal will allow, “think of it as a placeholder until I can get you a real one.”

You let out an exaggerated gasp, “why Eddie Munson, are you proposing to me?” You break off in a fit of giggles. Knowing that he’s mentioned on occasion more than once that he plans to marry you one day. It’s just fun to tease him every now and then. “I love it, Eds,” you smile warmly, pulling the dragon head ring out of the box. “May I?” You fight your smile, but it splits your lips when he sheepishly offers you his right hand, the one with free space for a band that size.

When you slip the ring on his middle finger, Eddie’s brown eyes sparkle. “Now yours,” he takes the other ring out, sliding it on the proper finger and hand, pinching the adjustor so it stays in place. “Perfect,” Eddie strokes the back of your hand, lifting it to kiss your knuckles. “What does the lady say to grabbing some milkshakes and heading home?”

Tucking the dragon under your arm, you loop your free arm around Eddie’s, leaning into him. “Sounds great,” you lean in with a smile.

Eddie is happy to acquiesce your request for a kiss before dessert.

—

“He should be here any minute,” you rub your temples with your eyes pinched closed. Telling Dustin for what feels like the thousandth time that Eddie is on his way. You're curled up in his throne before the start of their last Hellfire campaign. Last session they came all the way to the precipice of the final monster, but it was very late and the younger ones have curfews. It’s also the last day of finals for seniors.

Eddie finds out whether or not he graduates today. Mrs. O’Donnell’s class holds his future in the palm of her hand. You’re trying not to be worried about the fact that Eddie isn’t here yet. Anxiety tickling your brain that he’d received bad news and doesn’t want to face you guys. He’s not necessarily late. But in Eddie fashion, he’s always the first one here. So with everyone but him surrounding the table, you’re not the only one wondering where he might be.

What his head space is right now.

Okay, you’re worried. But you’re not going to let the group know that.

“Okay, but if Eddie didn’t graduate-”

“Jeff!” You scold his name, cutting the teen off. “You and I didn’t have as much on the line as Eddie did, okay? We graduated,” you drop your hands, opening your eyes to look at him, “maybe he’s just excited and taking a minute to collect himself. He still has time to get here.”

Mike thinks it’s a good idea to press the issue further, “but he’s never late. Ever.”

“And he still isn’t,” you huff out a breath.

“We just care about him,” Dustin offers, finally seeming like he’s settling in his seat.

“I know. And he cares about you guys too, whether he admits it or not,” you smile at them, Gareth nodding in agreement with you. “He’ll be here.”

As if you’d summoned him yourself, the door bursts open and Eddie walks in. “Sorry guys,” his face painfully expressionless. No sign of joy from graduating or anger from having not. Like a goddamn enigma. “Had some things to take care of,” Eddie crosses the room, scooping you up in his arms, taking your seat and placing you in his lap. “Missed you, pretty,” he whispers in your ear, placing a kiss on your cheek. “Ready to start?”

Dustin makes a strangled noise, Mike gesturing wildly.

“Dude,” Gareth raises his hands, “are you gonna tell us or not?”

“Can’t a man just sit here with his girl in his lap and play a game with his friends? I don’t want to talk about school right now,” Eddie says and your eyebrows furrow.

That doesn’t seem like a very good sign.

“We’re just excited for you, Eds,” you try to gently coax him into answering.

"It's our last campaign before I have to write a new one. Come on,” Eddie draws out the word with a whine.

"No, seriously, Eddie. Tell us,” Dustin pushes harder than you.

Fishing into his jacket pocket, Eddie pulls out the same blue paper you and Jeff received a few hours ago. Your final report cards. Slamming the paper on the table without jolting you too badly, Eddie yells, “I graduated!” Causing cheers to erupt in the room while he cackles loudly.

“I’m so proud of you, Eddie,” you tug the collar of his jacket in your excitement, yanking him in for a kiss. “Told you you could do it,” you whisper against his mouth right before the rest of the group crashes into the chair. All reaching out to congratulate their dungeon master on finally graduating.

Needless to say, it was a late start to the campaign. But none of you were complaining with the bonding and amount of happiness permeating the room. To top it all off, the boys won their campaign.

—

Getting Eddie ready to graduate was one thing. Getting Eddie ready for graduation is a whole different beast, not even the blow job on the way here was enough to get him to relax. You’re not even remotely surprised that he isn’t dressing up for it. Honestly, you’d be a little concerned if he had. He did, in his version of dressing nicely, found his least ripped pair of jeans and the least faded band tee he owns to wear under his cap and gown. Eddie was very displeased that his leather jacket wouldn’t fit under the dark green garment.

“I look ridiculous,” he hisses, clutching the cap in his hand as you two make your way towards the gym. Thankfully, your graduating class is small enough that you don’t have to sit outside in the heat for the ceremony. All the kids fit on one side, friends and family on the other, and the stage set up on the basketball court.

“I think you look very handsome,” you tease lightly, yanking a lock of his curls to get him to smile. Eddie mostly does, though he rolls his eyes at you while doing it. “You don’t believe me? Green is definitely your color. Very sexy.”

“Far from it, princess,” he takes a shaky breath and you finally realize that he’s nervous. “You on the other hand,” Eddie’s arm snakes around your waist, leaning into your ear and dropping his tone, “I could just eat you up right here.”

Blushing, you decide to exude more confidence to hopefully quell his nerves. “Maybe later,” you wink at him, turning to kiss neck, loving the way he groans under his breath. Reaching the bleachers with other teens all in their caps and gowns, it’s time to leave Eddie, “got me with you, Munson,” you ask, lifting the clawed orb in your finger.

Tension melts from his shoulders and Eddie shows you his own hand, the beautiful dragon head glinting at you, “and I’ve got you, princess.” Eddie gives you one last kiss before you both head to your respective sections outlined with the letters for your last names.

Sitting in alphabetical order, you’re not nearly as close to Eddie as you’d like to be. The way your section works, you just so happen to be sitting in the front row, toes tapping against the gym floor. When your name is called and you walk the stage, your eyes fan over the crowd and you’re honestly not surprised to find that your parents aren’t sitting in the bleachers with everyone else’s. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t sting a bit. Until your gaze falls on Wayne and the Hellfire club. Eddie’s uncle smiles at you from across the room, giving you a small wave. It warms your heart knowing that they’re here for you just as much as they are for Eddie.

That the people who matter are here for you.

It’s enough to put a smile on your face, Eddie yelling loudly from the bleachers only amplifies it. A shouted, “that’s my girl” falling from his lips, making you blush, but you blow him a kiss nonetheless. One he catches, placing on his heart before he sits back down.

Eddie’s name being called only makes you smile all over again, to the point of hurting your cheeks. You watch your boyfriend make his way up on the stage, green cap obscuring the top of his head. As soon as he gets to Principal Higgins, he does as promised. Snatches his diploma right out of the man’s hand and flips him off. Both you and the boys on the other side of the room jump to your feet, proudly yelling for him. Wayne claps, hollering for his nephew despite the mini scene he’d caused.

Eddie graduating is more important to Wayne than your boyfriend sticking it to the principal. You haven’t found your seat yet, still standing and clapping when Eddie bounds off the stage, diploma in hand, he races over to you.

“You did it,” you barely manage to get out before he wraps his arms around you, lifting you off the ground, spinning you around as he kisses you fiercely. “I’m so proud of you,” you tell him when Eddie breaks the kiss, keeping your toes dangling in the air.

“I had a good tutor,” he whispers, giving you a softer kiss before sitting in your spot and pulling you in his lap. No one says a word about it and thankfully the girls on either side of you don’t seem bothered by it either. At least, they don’t show it on their faces if they are. “Thank you, princess,” Eddie hugs his hands around your middle while you wait for the ceremony to be over.

Leaning into his hold, you slide your hand under the sleeve of his gown, stroking his arm, “you’re welcome, Eds.”

—

By the time you, Eddie, and Wayne get home from a celebration dinner with your friends, it’s time for his shift to start. Caps and gowns long since tossed into the back of his van. Your simple black sundress with red flowers on it hugging you without feeling like you’re suffocating anymore.

Wayne pulls Eddie into a firm hug, “I’m proud of you, son,” his voice sounding thick with emotion. He might be a little rough around the edges like his nephew, but Wayne has raised Eddie. The only thing that makes Eddie not his actual son is semantics. Wayne is the closest thing to a proper father that your boyfriend has ever had. And you know for a fact that his uncle loves Eddie as though he were his own.

Happy tears sting your eyes from watching them.

“Thanks Wayne,” Eddie pats his uncle’s back, “for everything.”

After they release one another, Wayne grabs his lunch box and heads for the door, stopping next to you, “I’m proud of you, too, darlin’. It couldn’t have been easy getting his stubborn ass to graduate.”

“It absolutely was not,” you laugh.

“Hey!” Eddie shrieks in offense.

That only makes you and Wayne laugh harder, the man walking out the door with the biggest smile on his face that you’ve seen in a while.

“Stubborn ass, huh?” Eddie asks when the front door clicks closed.

“Well,” you draw out the word, rocking on your feet, teasingly scrunching your face at him, “you did whine a lot whenever we studied.”

Eddie gasps, hand clutching his chest over his Black Sabbath tee, “how dare you? I did not whine.”

Keeping your teasing stance, “you kinda did.”

Something in Eddie’s face changes, a flicker of something almost playful flashes over his features. “Okay,” he quips, dropping his hand, stalking over to you. On instinct, you back up, feeling like you’re prey all of a sudden. Holding his hands behind his back, Eddie leans down a bit as he advances. “Pretty sure that out of the two of us,” your back hits the front door, he leans his hands beside your head, nose an inch from yours, “you’re the one who whines, princess.”

Breathing properly is simply not something you’re capable of with him this close. The spicy scent of his cologne intoxicates your mind and washes every thought down the drain. Leaving you utterly useless to anything that doesn’t revolve around the man in front of you. Eddie’s hand comes up to your throat, thumb hooking under your jaw to move you at his will. A gasp escapes your throat when he makes you look at him with the smallest tilt of his thumb.

“Isn’t that right, pretty?”

You shake your head no. If you had tried to speak, there’s no way you wouldn’t prove him right. That with as little effort as this, he already has you wanting to whimper and whine for him. It’s ridiculous and you want to feel embarrassed, but there’s a fire in those brown eyes that makes you feel nothing but empowered. You clench your thighs together to try and stow the ache beginning to form between your legs. Hoping that one, it will help, and two, that Eddie won’t notice exactly what he’s doing to you.

Or that you lied about the noise that is trapped in the back of your throat.

It shouldn’t be a surprise that it doesn’t work. In any sense. Not only does the friction from your thighs make your pussy want even more attention, Eddie noticed immediately. Eyes flicking down the moment you twitched, a devilish grin pulling at his lips. “No?” He asks, not even remotely believing you.

“N-nope,” you manage to whisper without making any other noise.

“That so?” He hums, pressing closer, his foot kicks your legs apart, your breath stuttering in your chest. Eddie’s thigh is quick to close the gap, your thin, lace panties the only protection from the harsh material of his denim jeans digging into your pussy. Your eyes flutter closed and a whine escapes your parted lips. “Told you so, sweet thing,” Eddie whispers at the shell of your ear, nipping at your lobe when you do it again, hips bucking against his leg. “Such a pretty noise,” he praises, “come here, princess.”

Eddie’s hands hook around the back of your thighs, lifting you into his arms, your legs wrapping around his waist. The second your hands curl into his hair, Eddie’s lips are on yours, smothering every soft moan with his mouth. How the two of you don’t fall on the way is beyond you, but somehow he manages to get you both in his room and your back hits his mattress. Eddie not once breaking the kiss and his hips slot with yours easily.

He grinds against you, cunt painfully clenching on nothing, “Eds, please,” you pant into his lips, tongues tangling together. “I can’t-” your hips buck on their own. Eddie slips his hand between you to rub at your pussy, but it’s not enough. You just need him inside you, slamming his hips against yours until you can’t see straight.

“Whatever you need, princess,” he groans against your mouth. Apparently you’d been talking out loud without realizing it. So long as it gets you what you want, fine by you. Not being able to handle foreplay, Eddie hastily unbuckles his belt, yanking his jeans and boxers off while you hike up your dress. You do your best to get your panties off, you really do, but given Eddie’s chuckle, you're clearly struggling to do so with him still so close. “Poor baby,” he coos, tearing the lace as if it were paper, tossing the scraps to the ground.

You moan at the sight, more turned on than you know what to do with, watching Eddie with hooded eyes as he grabs his cock, rubbing it through your dripping folds. You whimper, reaching for his arm, trying to guide him inside you faster, thinking he was trying to tease you.

Far from it.

“Just slicking it up, baby,” Eddie rubs your thigh, thrusting himself inside you in one push of his hips, earning you both a throaty moan. “Can’t hurt my pretty pussy, now can I?” His smirk is as teasing as his tone. Eddie knows how and when to be gentle with you, but more often than not, when you're having sex, it's rough and fast. Whatever it takes to get the two of you off as quickly as possible.

You don't remark on the jab, his cock filling you up deep inside like you'd craved is all you care about. The mouth sucking a litany of marks on your neck and chest as he sets a pace to make you dizzy. Tingles numbing your toes, fingers digging marks into his sides where you cling to Eddie beneath his shirt. Riding through his harsh thrusts with punched out moans until you're hoarse.

"Always so tight for me, princess," Eddie moans, your walls clenching around his dick as your orgasm inches closer with the barrage on the bundle of nerves. "You gonna come, sweet thing?" He grunts, ramming his hips into yours that has you convinced there's going to be bruises left behind.

Moaning wantonly, you nod wildly, head digging into the pillow beneath you.

Just as you're about to, Eddie hastily pulls out. Your whine of indignation cuts off when his mouth latches onto your fluttering cunt. His nose bumping against your clit, his tongue flicking inside you until you scream, come splashing against his tongue and chin. Eddie groans happily, lapping up all of your release up like he's starved for it.

"Fuck, you taste amazing," Eddie groans, kissing your sensitive pussy before rushing to claim your mouth in a dirty, bruising kiss. Despite the risk of overstimulation, you tilt your hips, trying to get it cock back inside of you, only to have it glide against you. Groaning in annoyance, your hands slam to the bed. Eddie chuckles at you, "it's okay, pretty, let me help." Laying on his back, Eddie grabs you by your hips, lifting you up to straddle him, sinking you down onto his dick.

"Shit," you breathe out, the new angle pressing him right against the bundle of nerves beautifully. "Fuck, fuck," your pussy clenches on its own, intensifying the feeling. Placing your hands on his chest, you swivel your hips, moaning prettily for him.

"That's it, baby, fuck, just like that," Eddie grunts a moan of his own, gripping your hips to help you keep your rhythm. "Not gonna last, pretty," his fingers pinch into your skin, grinding you against him faster, your own hips moving erratically as you chase your release. "Come on, come on my cock so I can fill my pussy up," Eddie's hand cracks against your ass and you cry out, feeling tingly and so goddamn good you smile full of lust.

"Please, Eddie," you moan, cunt clenching impossibly harder, warmth spreading throughout your body. "Wanna feel it," you whine, hazy eyes falling on his face. His hair sticking to the sides of his face from sweat. The hands on your hips move you faster, the only sounds are both of your moans and the filthy squelch of your pussy.

Eddie's breath turns labored, his brows pinching together as you flutter around him, head falling back as you come. Trembling through your orgasm, your chest heaves in attempts to get proper air into your lungs. With one last buck of his hips and a husky moan, Eddie spills deep inside of you, filling you to bursting. His come warming you from the inside out with a giddy type of pleasure. Boneless and utterly spent, you slide off of him onto your back, a blissful smile on your face.

Trying to come back down from your high, you barely register Eddie moving, settling himself between your thighs. Not until his fingers gather the bit of come trying to spill out and he pushes them inside. Whimpering, you halfheartedly try to push his hand away, overstimulated and ready to pass out. "Gotta keep it where it belongs, pretty." Eddie's fingers curl inside you, evoking a moan. The sheer thought of him fucking his come back inside of you stokes the fires once more.

"Eddie," you pant, fisting into the sheets, eagerly awaiting your last orgasm.

"Yeah?" He grins up at you, lazily stroking his fingertips against the spongy part of you. "Just one more," Eddie murmurs, his tongue licking your swollen clit. The warmth in your core turns to burning, a stabbing need for release. One Eddie is more than willing to give to you as he pumps his fingers, moaning around your bud. It's the vibration of his moan that does it.

A broken cry scratches through your vocal cords as you shatter. Falling apart from your orgasm in the best way possible. You nearly white out, spots dancing in your vision. But everything is fuzzy and so fucking good that you just lay there in bliss under Eddie's worship.

Eddie carefully pulls his fingers out, kissing the inside of your thigh sweetly. He leaves you long enough to dash into the bathroom. You half hear the water running and him coming back. But your eyes are too heavy to open them. A warm, wet towel gently wipes you clean, a contented hum vibrating your throat at his care. He gingerly gets you out of your dress only to replace it with the Black Sabbath shirt he’d just been wearing.

"You did so good, princess," Eddie drops the towel, laying down beside you to pull you into his chest. "So perfect," he praises, kissing your forehead. "Do you need anything? Hungry? Some water?"

"In a bit," you sigh peacefully. "Just need you."

Eddie holds you tighter and you can feel his smile on your skin, "you've got me, baby. Always."

----

Part 2 taglist: if you asked to be tagged, you were, if you asked for a part two, I tagged you as well.

@quixscentsposts @ick90 @underrailed @ellathefriendlyalpacaaa @psychobitchsthings @th0rswh0res @wh0reforeddie19 @yogabbagabba17 @theloser007 @urlocalhippie2029 @eddiemnsonsstuff @slutforeddiemunsonnn @victoriacourone @eddiemunsonstoes @baby19sthings @tony-starks-ego @imnotsiriusyouare @drewsgfduh @heyitmelexie

Eddie taglist:

@only4wakingup @decadentpaperduck @wolfhrdds @live-the-fangirl-life @imnotsiriusyouare

a/n x2: There might be a teensy part 3 to this where Eddie takes you to a show for Corroded Coffin after they make it big and proposes? Idk, it's a big maybe because I'm not sure if that's too cheesy or not. Let me know what you think of part 2 and the idea of 3, my loves and thank you again for all of the love and support! Let me know if you want to be added to the Eddie tag list 💚

#eddie munson #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff #Match Writes

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