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pochaccoups · 28 days ago

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facetime — choi seungcheol & yoon jeonghan

pairing — choi seungcheol x yoon jeonghan x f!reader

summary — when three people in a relationship want to fuck but one of them is in a different country, facetime comes in pretty handy.

wc — 4k

warnings — nsfw content minors dni! smut, established polyamorous relationship, threesome (technically), phone sex, butt plugs, anal and vaginal fingering, oral (m and f receiving), masturbation, so much dirty talk, soft dom!seungcheol, brat tamer!seungcheol, prone bone, creampie, slight daddy kink, reader referred to as a girl, a lot of ‘cheollie’ and ‘hannie’ sorry but i think they sound cute

author’s note — umm hi can u tell i had so much fun writing this …… this will be part of a poly jeongcheol series i have in the works so pls stay tuned and enjoy !!! :>

seungcheol: just finished up the show, what are you up to?

jeonghan: busy.

Attached is a photo that’s slightly shaky and dimly lit, but Seungcheol can make out every detail of you with Jeonghan’s cock halfway down your throat.

It takes less than a second for Seungcheol’s caller ID to pop up on Jeonghan’s phone screen, and Jeonghan doesn’t hesitate to answer.

“Yah… You know I hate being left out,” is the first thing Seungcheol says. The sound of his deep voice makes you draw your mouth off of Jeonghan.

“Cheollie?” you ask, beaming as you snatch your boyfriend’s phone from his hands so that you can see your other boyfriend through the screen.

“Hi, pretty,” Seungcheol says, waving. He looks hot, but that’s a perpetual characteristic of his. He hasn’t removed his makeup yet, and his hair, getting longer, is still styled from the show. “Miss me?”

“So much. We both do,” you say with a grin. You make a show of mouthing at Jeonghan’s cock for the camera, sticking out your tongue so you can slap the tip on it, swirling it around, all with a faint mischievous gleam in your eyes at the sound of one boyfriend’s whines and the other’s sulking.

“Yeah? Doesn’t really seem like you do,” Seungcheol says, laying back on a bed that’s way too soft, too cold, too far away.

“Seungcheollie, you know how needy our girl is-ah,” Jeonghan pipes up, moaning as you wrap your lips around him and bob your head up and down.

“I do know, and you’re not innocent either, Jeonghan. You miss getting your pretty little ass fucked, don’t you?”

You worry Jeonghan will bust then and there from the way his cock twitches in your mouth, but fuck was Seungcheol right. It’s why you all prefer to have sex with all three of you present, because at this point having someone missing feels… weird. Not bad. Definitely not. But the absence of a third lover becomes far too apparent.

Right now, you and Jeonghan don’t have much of a choice though. Duty calls, meaning Seungcheol is touring on the other side of the world—has been for the last two weeks and will be for another two weeks. Jeonghan would be with him if it weren’t for his enlistment. Alas, you have Seungcheol’s voice to do what it does best: tell you two exactly what to do.

“Take all of him, baby, you know you can,” he says, soft and slightly commanding in a way that makes you want to do good just for him, make him proud. And you’ve taken Seungcheol, who’s a little longer and far thicker, all the way down your throat many, many times before that swallowing Jeonghan’s entire length feels like a mere warmup.

Pride swells through you when your two boyfriends curse above you, filling you with an eagerness to give them more. So while one of your hands holds the phone, albeit shakingly, your other hand pumps the base of Jeonghan’s cock, in rhythm with your mouth as you bob up and down. It’s wet and obscene, the way you lap up the precum that leaks from your boyfriend’s tip only to let it spill from your lips and drool all over him, all over your fingertips.

Your eyes never break away from Seungcheol, who’s chewing on his bottom lip and staring at you with eyes that are both clouded over with desire and dark with concentration. If you know your boyfriend then he’s thinking of all the things he would do if he was in the same room as you two.

Jeonghan doesn’t expect it when one of your spit-slick fingers creeps down to his ass and traces his hole, and he squirms and cries as you prod at his opening before pushing inside. He’s taken Seungcheol many, many times, too, that your finger should feel like a warmup, but two weeks without his boyfriend’s cock stretching him out is torture, so the slide of your digit in and out is a sweet relief that he’s forgotten.

You pull your mouth away from him, sitting up on your knees so that you can angle the camera for Seungcheol to watch as your finger dips in, all the way to your knuckle, then back out of Jeonghan’s hole.

“He’s so whiny today, Cheollie.”

“Mm, more than usual, huh?” he replies, licking his lips, his hand reaching to his crotch to palm at it just a little. He thinks about how his fingers are twice as thick as yours, how Jeonghan would sob if it was his hands inside him.

“He misses your fat cock,” you say, and Seungcheol feels his sanity jump straight out of his hotel window. You’ve always proven detrimental to his patience and self-control, taking years off of your poor boyfriend’s life with your bratty ways. “Right, Hannie?” you say, right as you pull your finger out of him, grinning as he squirms and curses under his breath as a reply.

You only stop fingering him because you have an idea. With the phone still in hand, you dangle yourself off the side of the king bed to open one of the bedside table drawers, grab the silver heart-shaped plug and bottle of lube, then clamber back between your boyfriend’s legs. Jeonghan watches with glistening eyes as you drizzle the plug with lube. Once it’s drenched, you flip the phone camera around, letting Seungcheol watch as you press the tapered end of the plug against Jeonghan’s hole. The cold toy makes him flinch at first, and he shudders as you circle his rim with it until he’s thoroughly smeared with the sticky liquid.

The sound Jeonghan makes when you push the plug inside of him is pitiful, and it’s in harmony with a deep groan of approval from Seungcheol. You’re the furthest one from dominant among the three of you, and yet you have these men dangerously wrapped around your finger. Your men.

“There,” you say, content, like you’ve just painted a masterpiece—and your boyfriend’s pretty ass with a cute heart-shaped butt plug nestled inside comes pretty close.

“That’s my girl. So thoughtful,” says Seungcheol, and his praise ignites you with a sense of accomplishment that rivals the highest of promotions.

“Can I make him eat me out now?” you ask, because it’s Cheol who does this best; sets the pace, tells you what to do, lets you sit in the palm of his hand while he does all the thinking for the three of you. A true leader, through and through.

“Keep sucking Hannie off, baby, just for a bit,” is his instruction. It would be easy to disobey him, yes, to disconnect the call and turn off the phone if you so pleased, but the thing about Seungcheol is that even when his voice is soft, it still commands.

You pout only for the sake of pouting because, really, having Jeonghan’s cock in your mouth is one of your favourite pastimes. You waste no time swallowing him all the way down to his base again, only to pop right back off him just to hear a tortured moan from him. You fall back into an up and down bobbing rhythm then, steadily, lips wrapped tight around your boyfriend’s length in the way that you know won’t make him last long.

“Jeonghannie,” Seungcheol calls out, but the man in question is too busy whining and whimpering to hear him. When he’s close his brain all but shuts off and the only thing he can do is take whatever he’s getting with pretty, pretty moans.

“Baby, don’t let him cum yet,” Seungcheol urges you instead.

Jeonghan nearly sobs this time when you pop your mouth off his cock, but there’s a force in Seungcheol’s voice that compels you to listen. “Yes, daddy,” you say—the cherry on top.

Seungcheol drags a hand over his face, groaning. “Fuck, you two want me dead, huh?”

“Yeah, well, you two are disgusting… and annoying,” says Jeonghan, who sounds thoroughly irritated as a cute frown knits his brows together.

Poor, poor you, with not one but two needy, jealous boyfriends who can’t stand not being the subjects of all your affection. If it was you in Seungcheol’s position, alone on the other side of the world, you would never get this sulky. You’d be completely rational about it. Obviously.

The urge to soothe Jeonghan comes as an instinct, one that makes you crawl up from between his legs so that you can straddle his slender waist and kiss his pouting lips. He melts into you when you do, mouth moulding against yours so sweetly, his hands falling to your waist and the tips of his fingers dancing softly against your skin. The Facetime call is forgotten, much to Seungcheol’s dismay, as you drop the phone to the bed in favour of cradling Jeonghan’s cheeks in your hands so that you can kiss him harder. Your crotch, still clothed, rocks back and forth over his erection and soon you’re moaning into one another’s mouths, muffled by your tongues that are swirling together.

Jeonghan doesn’t have half of Seungcheol’s strength to manhandle you around, so he opts to gently guide you off his lap and onto the bed until you’re underneath him. He kisses you once, twice, thrice, leaves you reeling as he moves on to pepper your neck with soft nibbles and scrapes of his teeth. He pulls away for a moment only to drag your t-shirt (one of Seungcheol’s, of course) up and over your head.

Now that you’re less occupied with Jeonghan’s lips, you pick up the phone again and bring the camera up to your face, grinning at Seungcheol’s small pout on the screen. If you could only hop through the phone and into his lap, you would do it in a heartbeat.

“Cheollie, wanna see your cock, please,” you say, shivering as Jeonghan mouths at one of your nipples. He flicks it with the tip of his tongue as his hands reach up to grasp your tits delicately, and you sigh when his warm, wet mouth envelops one of your hardened buds.

“Not yet, baby, I’ll take it out when Jeonghan fucks you, okay?”

Seungcheol chuckles fondly at your unhappy hum, so he adds, “I wanna cum with you two, yeah?”

“Okay, fine- wait, Hannie,” you whine. “My boobs.”

He peers up, already between your legs, having decided he was done giving attention to your tits. You see right through it—your boyfriend is nothing if not vengeful.

“You’re too spoiled,” he quips, peeling your shorts and panties down your legs, exposing your drooling pussy to him.

“And you’re used to Cheollie doing everythi-ahh!” Jeonghan cuts you off when he licks your cunt without warning, sending your eyes rolling back into your head and your hand grabbing a fistful of his now-short hair. He’s far from rough and aggressive, but it’s precisely the patient softness of his touch that leaves you keening for more.

“Baby, can you do me a favour?” Seungcheol asks, practically cooing as he watches your eyes glaze over with pleasure.

But all you can focus on is the way that Jeonghan’s warm tongue flicks lazily over your clit as well as the grip of his fingers on your thighs.

“Baby?” Seungcheol tries again, only a little louder. This time your eyes flick to him on the screen and you make a little affirmative noise. “Will you flip the phone screen around for me, please? I wanna watch Hannie eat your pretty pussy.”

You do as he asks, pointing the camera to give Seungcheol a view of his boyfriend between his girlfriend’s thighs.

“Good girl,” he says, breathier now, his tone darker. It’s deliberate; malicious, you would say—his praise makes you a whiny, needy mess. His voice alone turns you into a slut and he knows that because you’d told him that, word for word. “And since I’m not there, can you play with your tits for me, baby? The way that I would do it? I know it’s not the same, but it’ll still feel good.”

“Mhm,” you moan. You find yourself closing your eyes as you let go of Jeonghan’s hair and bring your hand to cup your own breast, to squeeze and grope at it, to tweak and tug at your nipple, all while imagining that you’re leaned against your boyfriend’s sturdy, broad body and that it’s his big, unrelenting hand cupping your tits and not your own.

At the same time, Jeonghan eats your pussy like the fiend that he is. Unlike Seungcheol, who lacks the control to stop himself from ravaging you like an animal until your pussy is raw and puffy, Jeonghan is much more, as he is in all aspects of his life, calculated. He’ll string you along with swipes of his tongue that seem coy until he’s making passes through your folds, prodding at your dripping, awaiting entrance. He licks into your hole and sips at your arousal like it’s honey, intent on making you fall apart slowly.

“How does his mouth feel, angel? Tell him,” says Seungcheol, whose lips have gotten swollen from his relentless chewing on them.

“God, Hannie, feels so good,” you squeak, your eyes still screwed shut as if that’ll help soothe the heat that burns through your body from Jeonghan’s mouth. Your fingers keep pinching at your nipple, and then Jeonghan slips two of his fingers into your heat, sending your hips bucking against his face and leaving you whining desperately, shamelessly.

While his mouth makes out with your cunt, Jeonghan’s fingers dip in and out of you, massaging at your most sensitive spot over and over. He finds it with practiced ease, and he knows by now exactly what kind of vigour it needs to have you crying. He’s practically petting at your insides, your walls clamping around his fingers as your moans start to grow louder.

“H-hannie, I’m close, please, right there,” you squirm as your walls attempt to suck his fingers in.

You don’t see it, but his eyes flash with something devilish. Your other boyfriend sees it, though.

“Jeonghan, don’t even think about edging her.”

Jeonghan smirks with mischief, letting his fingers do the work as he pulls his mouth away from your pussy.

“Let me have my fun, Seungcheollie.”

“If I did that neither you nor her would cum at all,” is your other boyfriend’s response.

There’s silence as Jeonghan ponders whether he should obey or disobey. All the while, you’re mere inches away from your edge, hot with frustration because it’s so close; you’re so close. You just need a little bit more. It’s not too much to ask.

“Hannie, please…”

And he can’t find it in himself to deprive you any longer, so he crooks his fingers and works them as fast as he possibly can until you’re clenching, gushing, writhing all around his hand, wailing his name as you grab at his wrist but he still won’t stop.

“Such a good boy, huh, Jeonghannie? Making her cum so good,” comes Seungcheol’s voice, sounding more breathless with each time he speaks. “Now we’re all happy.”

It’s only once your walls have stopped spasming around his fingers that Jeonghan finally slips them out of you and pops them straight into his mouth, licking them clean of every drop of your sugary arousal. He makes sure to gaze directly into the camera as his tongue laves and swirls over each one of his digits, knowing Seungcheol’s dick is twitching at the sight.

“I haven’t cum yet though. So I’m not happy yet,” he says, dragging a finger out of his mouth with a pop.

You sit up on your elbows with your cute, blissed out features, your eyes falling to his red-hard cock.

“Come here and fuck me, then,” you say, impatient, like he didn’t just give you an orgasm. You paw at the hem of his shirt (also Seungcheol’s) and bite your lip as he pulls it over his head, letting your hands roam over his pale torso.

“Ride me?” he asks. How predictable. If it’s not Seungcheol taking him from behind then it’s you on top of him. God forbid Yoon Jeonghan does the work.

“Actually, I have a better idea. And this way Cheollie can see us both,” you say with a grin.

With the phone on the front-facing camera, you prop it up against the headboard and roll onto your stomach, craning your head to look at him over your shoulder.

“Like this?” Jeonghan asks, straddling the backs of your thighs.

“Yeah,” you say, parting your legs a little, arching your back and raising your hips—presenting your soaked, messy hole to him. “Try not to get tired.”

He responds with a half-hearted smack to your ass and Cheol scoffs out a chuckle. Jeonghan slides his cock between your folds, coating it with your slick, revelling in your tiny gasps every time it catches on your entrance. You’re prepared to whine and nag at your boyfriend to hurry up, but you suppose he’s feeling just as impatient as you are because he’s pushing in before you can even speak up. You look at Seungcheol, mouth dropping as you’re stuffed full with Jeonghan’s cock until he’s buried to the hilt inside you. His hands land on either side of your elbows so that he can hover over you, reel his hips back, and fuck himself into you like that.

In this position, Jeonghan’s length brushes right against your gummy, sensitive spot with every stroke, making you keen for more even though he’s just started.

“Harder, Hannie,” you sigh, pushing your ass up against his hips.

Instead of listening, he drops his head to the crook of your shoulder and kisses your skin. His breath tickles your ear when he whispers to you: “ah, what’s the rush, angel?”

You turn your head to catch his gaze, to drink in the sight of his face as he takes what he needs from you; his cheeks pink, his eyes tired and full of hunger. His lips, plump and enticing, evoke an unrivalled craving within you and he reads you well, brings his mouth to yours to give you as much satiation as he can muster.

Seungcheol sits, silent, waiting. His patience is mere embers as he watches you two, his boyfriend and his girlfriend, tangled within one another. The wet slap of Jeonghan’s balls against the back of your thighs; the smacking of your lips, teeth, and tongues. He misses it. Fuck, he could go insane.

“Cheollie,” you whine, when Jeonghan’s lips are no longer enough. “Want you to feel good too.”

“Yeah, okay,” he replies, abandoning all semblance of the self-control he’d displayed up until now. It’s time, anyway, he thinks. He’s held off long enough. He puts his phone down and there’s shuffling as he strips himself of his sweat-soaked outfit from the show and settles upon the bed sheets once more.

Saliva pools from the sides of your mouth when he angles his camera to show you his hand wrapped around his thick, erect dick and God, what you’d do to have it bruising the back of your throat until you’re gagging, letting him defile you all while he coos the sweetest of praises at you.

“Daddy, I miss your cock so bad,” you admit in a weak whimper, shivering when Jeonghan angles himself deeper inside you.

“Yeah? Miss how I’d fuck your pretty little mouth?”

“Fuck, she’s clenching so hard around me, Seungcheollie,” Jeonghan grits. “Greedy little thing.”

“I mean, it’s our fault one cock’s not enough to make her happy anymore,” says Seungcheol, sighing with relief as he thumbs at his leaking tip, squeezing his fist around it, reminiscent of the way that you and Jeonghan like to tease him.

“Like I said,” says Jeonghan as he pushes two of his fingers between your parted lips. “Spoiled.”

You moan around them, staring straight into the camera as you suck on them, staring at Seungcheol, who starts to pump his hand up and down his cock. He wants to shut his eyes and pretend it’s your hand, or Jeonghan’s hand, or one of your tight, warm holes, but he can’t take his eyes off of his phone screen no matter how hard he wants to, and, well, he doesn’t want to.

He jerks himself off to the same rhythm that Jeonghan’s hips grind into yours. Seungcheol likes things a little faster, usually, more rough, but it’s Jeonghan who’s inside you right now, not him, so he matches his boyfriend’s lazy but not too slow pace, one that’s just enough to give you a gradual stimulation.

There’s something about the whole thing—being fucked on camera, being teased with Seungcheol’s cock when you can’t have it—it has you way more excited than you expected. Way more turned on than you expected. It shows in the floods of arousal that drip from your pussy and dampen yours and Jeonghan’s thighs, in the way you’re whinier and more sensitive than usual.

Jeonghan and Seungcheol’s own noises don’t help. In fact they spur you on, coax you closer to your edge, urge the heat in your belly to grow. When Seungcheol isn’t giving deep, rasped curses, he’s letting out pretty, breathy, borderline whimpering moans. Jeonghan’s sounds are as angelic as he is. His voice is a holy choir in your ear, heavenly and soft as he gasps with exertion and pleasure; as he does things to you that any God would frown upon.

Jeonghan, too, is more sensitive. With the plug constantly brushing at his prostate, he can’t help but screw his eyes shut and pretend it’s his big, buff boyfriend fucking his girth into him. It makes his thrusts grow raggedy, like he’s more heavy. His body weight presses into you as his arms start to ache just a little. He’s impossibly deep in your guts like this and it feels so fucking good that your brain starts to melt.

Seungcheol recognises the look in your eye—absent, like you’re starting to tap out and letting yourself become consumed by bliss.

“Is she getting close, angel?” he questions, punctuating it with a moan, the slick glide of his hand up and down his cock like music in your ears.

Jeonghan hums affirmatively. “Pretty pussy’s choking me,” he says, his voice cracking, his composure with it. He tries to put more vigour in his thrusts, more determination. The sooner you cum, the sooner he cums.

“Cum for Jeonghannie, baby,” Seungcheol urges softly.

“Cum for me,” Jeonghan echoes. You don’t stand a chance.

The heat inside you coils up, then erupts. Jeonghan fucks you through your climax as you tremble beneath him, crying his name and clawing at the sheets below you.

“There it is, my good girl,” Seungcheol coos, tightening his grip on his cock as he tugs at it harshly as though it could ever replicate the feeling of your warm walls clamping down on him as you cum.

“Ah, fuck,” Jeonghan gasps, dropping his head to your shoulder, cock twitching. His next request is a broken, pathetic moan. “Ch-cheollie, cum with me.”

Jeonghan stills inside you, whimpering softly with every rope of cum that he spills inside you, letting you milk him of every last drop. At the same time, Seungcheol gives a resounding groan as he brings himself to his own release, cum splattering over his toned stomach.

There’s a moment of silence, or, rather, nothing but a harmony of laboured breaths as the three of you come down from your orgasms. You give a noise of protest as Jeonghan suddenly rolls off of you, but his stamina is always drained after sex—especially when he’s doing the work. You shiver, both from the emptiness in your cunt and the cold air that hits you now that you no longer have your boyfriend’s body as a shield from it.

“Seungcheollie’s gonna wanna see your cum leak out of me, you know,” you say.

“You know me so well, baby,” is Seungcheol’s reply.

Jeonghan rolls his eyes. He makes no effort to move from his spot, opting to stretch his arm above his head and pat around until he finds the phone. He sits up next to you, points the camera between your legs as he grips one of your ass cheeks and spreads you apart.

There’s a screenshot sound as white drools from your spent hole.

“Seungcheol!” you shriek. “You pervert.”

“Coups-ya, send that to me.”

thank you for reading! reblogs and feedback are highly appreciated <3

tags — @svtiddiess @ylangelegy @simpxxstan @caibeauchicfashion

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hiraethwrote · 7 months ago

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i prefer it, actually

summary: after being called in the middle of the night, megumi comes over to take care of you while you're drunk

[ loner!megumi x popular!reader ]

cw: college au, f!reader, sorority!reader, pure fluff, intoxicated reader, party but mostly going on in the background, throwing up, aged up characters

word count: 2.2k

“Hello?” Megumi answered the phone in a confused haze, the blaring ringtone waking him up from his deep sleep.

“Megumi? I think you should come down here.” The voice that greeted him wasn’t one he recognised, and his confusion only strengthened when he checked the caller ID to see a picture of you.

“Who is this?” He asked, slowly rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he sat up in his bed.

In the background, he heard muffled music interrupted by a loud gag. “It’s Kasumi.”

Kasumi? There was something scarily familiar about that name, and after a few silent moments of thought he connected the dots, remembering she was a part of your sorority.

And as the pieces fell together, the concern started to fill his body, serving almost as an alarm clock as his sleepiness become nothing but a distant memory in a matter of seconds. “Is she okay?”

“Well…” Kasumi trailed off on the other end of the phone before another horrible gag interrupted the line. “She’s just really drunk.”

His shoulders dared relax just an tad. “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes,” he sighed before another sickening sound he only assumed was you hunched over a toilet bowl. Some of his worry had settled when he knew you weren’t in any immediate danger at least, but he also knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep again until he was certain you were safely in bed.

As he promised, fifteen minutes later he walked through the door of your sorority, the party still in full swing as he bullied himself through the thick crowd to get to the stairs.

God, he couldn’t stand this. Too many people shoved into a house where the mere concept of personal space was long abandoned. Obnoxious music that was so loud you were unable to hear your own thoughts — and not to mention how incredibly annoying people got when drinking.

Therefore he could not for the life of him fathom why you loved it so much. Only a handful of times had he accompanied you to parties like this, and you always managed to have a good time. That might be the only thing he has ever found himself liking with these things; seeing how much you enjoyed yourself.

So for the most part, he just decided to stay in when you wanted to go out so he wouldn’t ruin your evening by moping around, constantly checking the time to see when it was acceptable for him to go to bed. He didn’t want to be that boyfriend who stopped you from doing the things you liked just because he didn’t want to.

When he reached your room, his head cleared up as the people and music from downstairs was shut out, transforming into muffled background noise through the floor. He placed three knocks on your bathroom door before it creaked open, spotting the blue haired girl he assumed had to be Kasumi. “Hey,” he whispered, leaning against the doorframe as she opened the door further.

“Thank god you’re here. She’s been begging for you for like two hours,” she groaned, not hesitating to walk out of the bathroom so she could return to the festivities. "I think she's pretty much finished in there, just tired now."

He cleared his throat. “Thanks for taking care of her,” he said awkwardly as she was about to exit your room.

“Of course,” she smiled sweetly. “She would have done the same for me,” and she was gone.

He turned back around, pushing the door fully open to reveal you just in the position he had excepted. Your hair was tied back in a ponytail, makeup slightly smudged from throwing up for who knew how long, a constant little shiver running through your body.

“How you hanging in there?” He asked, a small amused smirk creeping up on his face.

Lifting your head from where it was resting on your arm, you turned to look at him, face lighting up the second your eyes landed on him. “Megumi, you’re here!” You nearly cheered, both hands immediately extending towards him, needy for him to come join you on the floor.

He does as you wished, his hands instinctively stroking away the stray hairs that hung in front of your face, behind your ears. “Feeling okay?”

“Better now that you’re here!” You slurred, flashing your teeth at him in a huge grin. The annoyance and frustration caused by the party below was quickly forgotten at the sight of you beaming at him. Even though you looked tired, appearance tainted by the evening, it did nothing to smother beauty. “I didn’t think I’d see you tonight.” You were clearly still intoxicated, eyelids droopy as you mumbled sentences he could barely make out.

“A little blue birdie told me you needed me, so,” he shrugged, as if it was nothing to think about.

“Awe, baby,” you squealed as you fell forward, head landing on his chest. “You’re too good for me,” you sighed, melting into his body, the heat radiating off of him soothing the shiver present in your own body.

A gentle hand finds your upper arm to give it a light squeeze. “Do you think you can get up?” He felt the movement of your head agree to his request. He stands up first, grabbing ahold of your clammy hands and pulling you to your feet, instantly lacing his arm around your waist when you nearly fell over the second you were stood up. “Easy there,” he chuckled quietly.

“I’m fine!” You rushed in a high pitched tone, grabbing onto him for support, feeling the room spin a lot more now than when you were leaned over the toilet. When you weren’t nuzzled up against his warm chest anymore, the tremble quickly found its way back to your muscles. “‘m cold.”

“You’re cold?” He asked for confirmation. You only nodded, bottom lip sticking out in a dramatic pout. “Okay,” he whispered to himself before letting go of you by the sink before walking into your room to get you something.

“No, not that one!” You whined when he came back with one of your hoodies in his hands, earning you a confused frown from your boyfriend. “Want yours.”

He just rolled his eyes, acting as if he genuinely thought you were being a nuisance — but in reality, his heart did a little skip at the fact that you so persistently wanted to wear something of his instead.

At the foot of your bed he spotted a familiar hoodie, where you’d thrown it after waking up. Whenever the two of you didn’t spend the night together, you made sure to have a piece of his clothing nearby so he didn’t feel so terribly far away.

Could you be considered a clingy girlfriend? Probably — but you preferred the term devoted.

“Thank youuuuu,” you cooed as he simply tilted his head to signal for you to raise your arms. You happily obliged and he pulled it over your head, a satisfied hum slipping out as you hugged your arms around yourself to take in the familiar scent of your boyfriend.

Without saying anything, he grabbed your toothbrush with one hand, and your face with the other to hold it still, fingers softly digging into your plush cheeks. He finds it surprisingly unproblematic to help you brush your teeth, suspecting your drunken state might actually have served as help, paralysing your usual restlessness.

He gently grabbed your hand and guided you back to your room again, but was abruptly halted when you decided to stop dead in your tracks. With pinched eyebrows, he turned to you.

“Babe, I can’t go to bed with my makeup on.” You let go of his hand to retreat them into the sleeves of the sweater, hoping the warmth it usually provided would find you soon.

“Okay?” He asked, nervously moving his hand to his neck, rubbing it slightly as he waited for you to give him the right instructions.

“There’s makeup wipes under the sink,” you said matter-of-factly.

“Yes, ma’am,” he answered under his breath and went to get the wipes. When he returned, he nearly stumbled over your limp body. During his short trip to the bathroom, you had suddenly decided to just lay down on your back in the middle of the floor. With another sigh, he positioned himself on his knees by your head before carefully lifting it into his lap.

He started with your eyes, lightly rubbing the wet wipe across your eyelids. It didn’t take long before he managed to draw a drunken giggle from your lips. “What?”

“You’re so gentle,” you opened your eyes to stare up at him, thinking he was upside down but you couldn’t be too sure as the room was still spinning. The frown — you once had thought was a chronic condition — was very much present.

“I don’t wanna pop your eyes out.”

You only laughed. “You’re not gonna pop my eyes out. C’mon, you can put a little more pressure.” He let out a long and stressed exhale before going back to work, grimacing in fear as he did as you’d told him.

Eventually, the makeup came off, but you continued to lay completely still. You kept your head in his lap, eyes closed and a small smile ever present on your face.

“Did you have fun tonight?” His voice was soft, barely audible — especially with the banging from the bass downstairs seeping through the floor.

“Meh,” you said simply as you shrugged.

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” you breathed as you open your eyes to meet his gaze again. “You weren’t there.” He snorted, slightly rolling his eyes at your statement, believing you were only lying to make him feel better about coming all the way down to your sorority in the middle of the night.

“Yeah, right. How much did you have to drink?”

“No, Megs, I’m serious,” you giggled as your hands acted on their own, raising to cup his cheeks. “There’s only so much fun I can have when you’re not here.”

He felt his cheeks heat against your hands — you didn’t seem to notice however. He always thought it strange, that even after the two of you became official, it didn’t take a lot of effort from you to bring that redness to his face, a colour that had only grown familiar to his features after getting to know you.

“Sure, so fun having me sulk at your heels all evening.” There’s nothing but sarcasm in his tone as he continued to try and hide his flushed cheeks.

“I don’t mind,” you said softly as you gaze directly into his eyes, his blush only amplifying. “I prefer it, actually.”

His soft eyes roamed your face, lips slightly parted in awe. He still didn’t understand how you, who was so sociable, always the life of the party, beyond stunning, had decided he was the one you wanted to be with. And time and time again you confirmed it to him that it was for real.

Without much more thought, he simply leaned forward to press a tender kiss on your lips, your lips curling up in a giddy smirk. You were unable to contain yourself, breaking the kiss by hiding your face behind your hands, strangling the sweet giggles spilling out of you.

“You still make me nervous,” you said in between the cute sounds that was like music to his ears.

“I make you nervous?” He scoffed. “Alright, you’re clearly still drunk. Time for bed.” He gently tapped your shoulder, trying to get you to lift from his lap.

“You can never take a compliment,” you grumbled, wearing the frown that was more often seen painted on his eyebrows. He didn’t entertain your complaints, merely helping you up before leading you to your bed.

When he was about to turn around, your hand grabbed a hold of his wrist, surprised by the strength in your clutch. “No, you gotta stay here tonight!”

“I’m not leaving,” he laughed. “I’m just going to get you some water,” he said as he grabbed your hand to force you to let go.

“Oh.”

He can’t help but shake his head a little. You were probably the only drunk person he liked — of course, he was biased. During the parties, you were so outgoing, in a way he always admired. And then, when it was time to turn in for the night, you became so incredibly cute.

After having fetched the glass, he returned to see you wrapped up in the covers, having pulled the hood over your head and nuzzled further into the clothing.

A content huff left his nose as he put the glass down on your nightstand before stripping down to his t-shirt and boxers, then he carefully climbed over you. He knew he’d only receive grumpy grunts of annoyance if he tried to shove you to sleep closest to the wall.

The second he closed his eyes, he felt you snake your arm tightly around his torso and burying your face against his back, wanting to consume as much of his body heat as possible. Two light taps on your hand caused you to loosen your grip before he wiggled to turn around so you were now burying your head in his chest instead.

A deep, much needed, breath filled your lungs before you simply melted into him as his arms wrapped around you, humming in satisfaction as his hands slowly began to rub your scalp.

tags (taglist is open) @sad-darksoul, @nyahctrl, @ssetsuka

a/n the layout for these drabbles and short entries will be a little different, but yeah hope you like it. oh, and if you wanna be in the taglist, just lemme know <3 - btw, all warnings will be in the masterpost at all times

reblogs, likes and comments are appreciated plagiarism not authorized

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kcrossvine-art · 11 months ago

Text

Hi fellow adventurers!! A few weeks ago i caught wind of "Delicious in Dungeon". I'm not really an anime person, but I am a TTRPG, CRPG, and cooking person- . And holy shit. It is so good i convinced my partner to binge read the whole thing. I'm caught up on dungeon meshi, the anime, and just yesterday i also finished dungeon meshi, the manga.

Its rare to come across a serialized story that is so thematically cohesive and knows its characters so well. All of the bonus content like the artbooks and monster tidbits are just the icing on top.

So, inspired by Ryōko Kui's writing and illustration I'm going to attempt to create a recipe for every single Delicious in Dungeon recipe!-

Today that means Huge Scorpion and Walking Mushroom hotpot is on the menu!

(As always you can find the cooking instructions and full ingredient list under the break-)

MY NAMES CROSS NOW LETS COOK LIKE ANIMALS

SO, “what goes in to a Huge Scorpion and Walking Mushroom hotpot?” YOU MIGHT ASKThis is one of the pricier dishes until we get to the kelpies and dragons of the menu-

Rock lobster tail

Porcini mushrooms

Shiitake mushrooms

Snow fungus

Small potatos

Fensi (glass noodles)

Water

OPTIONAL: your choice of dipping sauces

There was a crossover/promotional event in Shibuya which featured various realworld dishes from the series. They had one for Huge Scorpion and Walking Mushroom, but they used prawns. while those cook better in a hotpot, they also didn't look enough like the scorpion for me, they also used udon noodles for the slime and a seaweed/kale(?) mixture for the algae. If you're looking for substitutes due to price or availability i would start with those ingredients.

AND, “what does a Huge Scorpion and Walking Mushroom hotpot taste like?” YOU MIGHT ASKI hope Senshi would forgive me for technically cooking the lobster outside the pot, once he tastes it.

Okay im always partial to veggies but wowowowowowowoowowowow the snow fungus and the mushrooms tasted soooooooooooo good in the lobster stock

A nice delicate layering of different flavors

Try to get a bite with the lobster meat and shiitake together, dip in butter then chili- trust me

Its up to you what texture you prefer if you want to put the noodles in at the end or put them in halfway through the meal. Either way dont go for eating those first as theyre very filling

I think this would pair well with a citrus drink, something light and clarifying

This would also pair well with being extremely high and hungry (if you feel safe cooking while inebriated lol) very calorically dense

For the trial run I did one lobster tail in the pot with everything else, and one lobster tail off to the side to be picked apart. The former is more in spirit with a hotpot, but it got rubbery as the meal went on and lost its nice taste. The latter may be a bit more work but all you have to do still is boil it and set it aside. I found it held up much better. It was also easier to get inside the shell.

. If you have hardshell maine lobster available, i think it would be superior to rock lobster (keep in mind crustaceans will get rubbery if cooked too long in the pot) . Green onions and/or lotus root would make excellent additions

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From getting the ingredients out to sitting down and eating, id say it took maybe 30 minutes max? It'd vary on how fast you can prep vegetables and get the various implements heated.

Hotpots are not something i do very often as i'm usually just feeding myself. I think thats why a hotpot makes perfect sense to start the series off. If you want to set the tone of "take care of yourself, eat food with others, and use what you have" (generally speaking) there is nothing more simplistic, flexible, and defeats-the-purpose-if-you-eat-it-alone than a hotpot. Gather around and let your friends bring ingredients to the pot if you want to fill your heart up extra full <3

I'm doing something different here because unlike previous recipes where i used a bunch of different sources and made my own recipe out of hodge-podging it, or just used another persons recipe entirely if they did it really well, i made this more whole-cloth based off of what i had available, what I could discover through research, and my existing knowledge. Instead of the recipe being 50/50 original, this one is more 20/80. So. I'll pass the final verdict off to you guys :D

What would you rate this recipe out of 10? (with 1 being food that makes one physically sick and 10 being food that gives one a lust for life again.) Did you love it, did you hate it? What're your thoughts on what I could do different, and what would you have done instead?

🐁 ORIGINAL RESIPPY TEXT BELOW 🐁

Ingredients:

2 Rock lobster tails

3 Porcini mushrooms

2 Shiitake mushrooms

Snow fungus (a good handful, should rehydrate in the hotpot)

2 Small waxy potatos

Fensi (glass noodles)

Water/lobster stock

Method:

Lightly rinse all of your vegetables beforehand and let them dry.

Vertically slice the porcini mushrooms. Cut off and dice the stems of the shiitake mushrooms. You can slice the tops if youd like.

Peel and cube the potatoes, roughly an inch each.

For the lobster tails; Boil a pot of salted water. Keep the shell on. Weigh the largest tail and add 1 minute of cooking time for every ounce of weight.

When done, strain the lobster from the water. Pour the water into your hotpot as the base. Serve the lobster on the side so people can pick the meat out to dip into the hotpot.

Bring the hotpot to a simmer. Add the potato cubes, snow fungus, mushrooms, and noodles.

OPTIONAL: this wasnt in the show, but its fun having sauces on the side :) i had oyster sauce, dry seasoned chili dip, melted butter, and soy sauce available

#dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #cooking #digital art

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killerlookz · 9 months ago

Text

Olive Green Couch | Spencer Reid

description: when your best friend drags you to a party to meet a boy she's been fawning over, you find yourself completely bored and unimpressed- good thing you've stumbled upon a strikingly handsome (yet awkward) young graduate student named Spencer who seems equally as unhappy to be there to share your misery with.

pairing: grad school! spencer reid x f! reader

content: uhh mostly fluff, drinking, reader is described as wearing a mini skirt and wearing high heels.

word count: 4,242

If I have to hear one more Weezer song I'm going to be sick. You think as the slow drums of Undone pour out over an all too expensive speaker system for a frat house.

The MIT frats were nothing like you experienced before, they were- for lack of a better term- a complete and utter sausage party. You can't remember the last time you'd seen this many men in a single room. If you weren't so bored maybe you would appreciate this as a reprieve from the usual maintaining "ratio" of the state school frat parties you'd been to. But even now you'd prefer that if it meant you wouldn't have to deal with another sloppily drunk man explaining the plot of The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy to you. Rich, pretentious, too smart for his own good MIT frat guy or dude-bro, alpha male, business major state school frat guy- it didn't matter; they were the same side of the same misogynistic coin.

You look down at the shot-glass sized solo cup in your hand, staring at the clear liquid inside. Maybe just one more shot and you'd finally start to enjoy the state you were in. You hoped maybe six shots would be the perfect number of drunk to enjoy yourself. You screw your eyes shut and throw back your head as you lift the cup to your mouth. The cheap vodka burns the second it touches your tongue, and you wince as you feel it travel down your throat and to your stomach. Your body shivers involuntarily as the warmth in your belly grows.

You face forward again, looking across the living room for your best friend- the one who dragged you here in the first place. You had suggested bar hopping or trying to get into a club, you didn't buy her a fake ID for no reason. But she insisted on coming here instead. Here- to this sweaty house filled with... well... dorks. She came here looking for some guy- Michael... Matthew... Miles.... shit, you couldn't remember. It didn't matter, you were here now, and she had ditched you to fend for yourself.

You take a step forward and all the alcohol you had drank prior seems to hit you a once, "Woah" You can't help but say out-loud as you catch your balance and wait for the room to stop spinning.

You take a few more wobbly steps forward before acclimating to your new, tipsy state. You make your way through the dimly lit house, trying to find your friend amongst the crowd and rowdy conversations. Observing the bodies that populated the house you suddenly felt insecure, and insanely overdressed- why was everyone wearing jeans and a t-shirt? Maybe a mini skirt was the wrong choice for tonight.

You make your way to a back room of the house, occupied by maybe only 10 people by your inebriated brain's estimate. There's an ugly looking olive green couch in the middle of the room- it' had obviously been through a lot but and you hated to imagine what had happened on that couch over the years, but right now it looked like the most comfortable thing in the world. You walk over and plop yourself over onto the couch, the cushions having a lot less give than you expected.

The beginning riff of Someday by The Strokes plays just outside of the room, and you groan- turning to the guy who you had just realized was sitting next to you.

"Do you know who's Dj-ing this fucking thing- can you tell them to play some Britney or something?" The words fall off your tongue, sloppily.

The boy sitting next to you turns to look at you, a confused look drawn upon his face, "Huh- me?"

Shit. He's kind of cute- In a dorky sort of way. His brown hair is perfectly unkempt, and small curls form at the back of his neck. His jawline is sharp, and his hollow cheeks accentuate his prominent cheek bones. His eyes are dark, and he looks a like he hasn't slept in years- you figured with the workload MIT students probably have- it would make sense if he actually hadn't slept since getting there. Truth be told, all things combined he looked a little sickly- he was obviously lanky maybe scrawny was a better word- his button up shirt seemed a little ill-fitted for his body, and his tie poorly tied. Still- you couldn't help but notice he was hot. The first hot guy you'd seen all night.

"Yes, you, pretty boy." You smirk.

His face reads as even more confused upon your clarification.

"Oh um," He looks down at the half-drunken beer that sits between his legs, shakes his head before looking back up at you, "I-uh I don't know the DJ, and I- um, also don't know who Britney is." He responds, a small nervous tremble in his voice.

"Spears?" You let out a small laugh, "You know like- Hit Me Baby One More Time." You half sing.

"Oh-" He looks off to the side, "No" he faces you again.

"Go figure," You scoff, still, keeping a smile on your face. "Say- are you in this frat?"

He shakes his head, "Oh- no, I'm a grad student."

"A grad student?" You respond, your eyes widen in shock no shot the man you were looking at right now was any older than you. "How old are you?"

"21" He responds, almost nonchalantly- like it wasn't some insane feat. "Well," He clarifies, "I'm actually in my third graduate program, I already have a PhD in mathematics and chemistry, from Cal Tech. I'm working on my engineering one now."

"Jesus," You smile, "So what, you're like some sort of genius, huh?"

"Well, I don't believe that intelligence can be accurately quantified- but I do have an IQ of 187, and an eidetic memory, and can read twenty thousand words per-minute."

You stare at him in awe for a moment, "So, a you are a genius?"

He gives you a small smile in response, "Yeah- I guess." He nods.

You're suddenly intrigued, only twenty-one years old and already a doctor twice over.

"So what brings you here Doctor...uh..."

"Reid," He nods and presses his lips into a line. "Oh! But, don't call me doctor you can call me Spencer."

"Well then, what brings you here, Spencer?" You correct yourself with a smile.

"My friend- uh he wanted me to come with him, he's meeting some girl here and he didn't want to go alone. I kind of got dragged along."

"Well," You grin, "It must be fate that we're here together on this ugly green couch, because if you could believe it- I'm here for the exact same reason except my friend- she's uh, meeting a guy here."

Spencer takes a small sip of the beer he had been holding, wincing as the liquid touched his lips. You figured he probably wasn't much of a drinker, he probably had things much more important on his plate than getting drunk and partying.

"Not much of a partier?" You ask to confirm your suspicions.

"Mhh," Spencer hums, mouth still full of beer, he shuts his eyes tight as he swallows thickly. "No." He shakes his head violently. "What gave it away?"

"Oh!" You bite your lip... "Nothing!" You say, innocently, voice steeped in sarcasm.

"It's okay," He laughs, "I know I look like a dork."

His laugh is infectious, and you can't help but smile in response. And Damn- he's really cute.

"Oh! Don't say that," You swat your hand at him, "I'm sure you get tons of ladies."

Spencer tilts his head to one side, in obvious disbelief of what you just said,

"I don't really appreciate the sarcasm," He says, his eyes narrowing at you.

"Sarcasm?" You pout, "No- I mean it Spencer, what you're like a genius. And I mean- you're not bad to look at," You bite your lip, "Not at all."

Spencer shook his head, "I was a child prodigy in a Las Vegas public school, and until now, I've always been way younger than everyone in college- my experience with girls is practically in the negatives."

"Oooh!" You smirk, "Vegas," You raise an eyebrow.

"Mhm," He takes another sip of his beer, his face more relaxed this time.

"You think I'd make a good showgirl?" You wink

"Oh- um," Spencer is suddenly blinking rapidly as his head scans you up and down. You can't help but feel a little bad at the way you have him flustered,

"I'm kidding! You don't have to answer that." You reassure. "Negative experience with girls, hm?"

"Yeah- I-uh, I haven't even had my first kiss yet." He says, looking down at his lap, refusing to make eye contact with you.

"No?" You say, still shocked, even given his prior explanations of his experiences with women, "Well..." You start, pausing for a moment, "If you ever want that to change let me know." Maybe that last part was meant to be a joke, but truth is you kind of really hoped he said yes, right there, right now.

"What?" He looks back up at you, eyebrows furrowed, "No- I don't need a pity kiss. I don't even know who you are."

"It is not a pity kiss, and I'm y/n, I go to UMASS, the Boston campus- like 15 minutes away. I'm 20, and uhhh... Well, the rest you can find out later." You wink, "Now you know me!" You smile, perking up from your spot on the couch.

"Well- uh. Nice to meet you y/n" He gives you an awkward tight lipped smile. "Are you- um- enjoying your night."

"God no," You scoff. "Does that make two of us?"

Spencer nods, side moving his eyes to look around the room. It had gotten significantly more crowded since you'd came in here, you hadn't noticed, you'd been too focused on getting to know Spencer that you kind of forgot you were at a party to begin with. It didn't seem to matter now anyway, you were intrigued beyond belief and wanted to know more about Dr. Reid.

"So, why'd you leave Caltech? The weather is certainly a lot nicer than it is here," Your body physically recoils at the thought of having to go back outside to the brisk New England fall after the party was over.

Spencer shrugged, "You can only get so many degrees at one place before you need a change of scenery. I've been at CalTech since I was like- fourteen."

"Fourteen?" Your eyes widen, thinking about what you were like at fourteen. You certainly weren't CalTech material, that's for sure. "When did you graduate high school?"

"1993," He smiles and nods, "Twelve years old"

Spencer had a charming humility about him, he was the smartest person you'd ever met but he spoke in a way that made it feel like it was every day that someone could graduate high school at 12 and have two PhDs by 21.

"What do you plan on doing after college with that pretty head of yours?" You ask, your slightly intoxicated brain unable to stop you from instinctively reaching out and fluffing his hair. Spencer's eyes flick up towards your hand and he gives you an awkward smile paired with a small laugh.

"Well- I uhh... I've been in contact with this guy- well from the FBI, the BAU... Behavioral Analysis Unit. We came into contact after my second dissertation, he was shocked at how young I was, having done so much- he suggested I come to the academy when I was done with this one." Spencer explained, he talked in a way that made him seem unsure of himself, like he, himself didn't fully understand how it happened.

"God," You muse, "The fucking FBI? Could you get any cooler?"

"You know," Spencer remarks, "I think that's the first time anyone has ever used to word "cool" to describe me." The tone in his voice is light, it's clear he's happy about that fact, but you can't help but feel your heart break at the statement.

"Cool even sounds like a little bit of an understatement to me. But you know... I think I'm a little too intoxicated right now to think of a synonym, so cool it is!"

"Do you have any plans for after college?" Spencer asks, nervously running a finger around the rim of the glass in his lap.

"Nothing as cool as the FBI," You shrug, "Actually, nothing concrete, really. Has me feeling a little inadequate in a room full of geniuses."

"Oh trust me," Spencer scans his head around the room, "Not all of these guys are geniuses."

"Well- they're complete nerds at the very least." You giggle.

"I think I qualify as a nerd too." Spencer smiles back.

"Oh you definitely do," You say, scooting closer to him, taking the beer glass out of his hand, "But you haven't tried to talk down to me about some movie everyone's seen, or some album everyone's heard like I'm some dumb idiot bimbo yet." You huff, finishing what was left of the liquid in the glass with a single gulp. You slam the cup down on the coffee table in front of you, "And even if I was a dumb idiot bimbo- what makes them think I'd care about whatever they'd have to say about OK Computer. We've all listened to Karma Police, big deal!" You realize you're getting a little heated over this and cut yourself off, "Anyways," You smile, "What I mean is you don't seem like some self important loser."

"Oh," Spencer furrows his eyebrows, "Thank...you?"

"Do you want to get out of here?"

"Y-Yeah, Yeah we can go." Spencer nods.

You stand up from the couch, wobbling a little bit as your legs lift you up. The room, is blurry, for a moment all you can see are vague blobs of color instead of people. You shut your eyes tight, blinking them open to fix your blurry vision. You glance over toward Spencer, who's grabbing a tan suit jacket that had been draped over the back of the couch. He slinks the jacket on over his thin frame.

"You alright?" He asks, concern in his eyes. He must have been able to read the drunk all over your face.

"Y-Yeah I'm fine, lets go," You nod, reassuringly. You could handle your liquor, besides you hadn't drank that much tonight.

The two of you head for the door, wherever it is. Spencer was leading the way, and you hoped he had a better sense of direction than you did. The music is suddenly a lot louder as you exit the room you were in, and you suddenly feel a lot drunker. The sudden change in feeling causes you to stumble a little, bumping Spencer in the back. High heels and alcohol were never a good mix.

"Oh- hey," Spencer stops suddenly, turning around to smile at you, "Are you sure you're alright?"

You look around the room, at the hoard of people, the room thick with a combination of weed and cigarette smoke. You've never felt so lost in your life when did it get so crowded in here? The obnoxious yelling of frat guys mixed with the music turned to a volume you were sure would get the cops to show up is absolutely ear-splitting.

"Can you hold my hand?" You ask Spencer, needing his guidance more than you realized.

"Uh, yeah, yeah." He nods. You reach your hand out for Spencer to grab, and it takes him a few times to correctly slot his fingers between yours. You smile a little, watching him try to figure out the perfect hand-holding position. He couldn't be more pathetic if he tried- it was kind of adorable.

Spencer's hand is warm, a little sweaty against your palm. But his grip is tight and reassuring as the two of you walk the rest of the way out of the house.

As soon as the front door opens a brisk wind hits you, nipping at your exposed flesh. Goosebumps already dot up and down your skin, the only warmth you feel is Spencer's hand wrapped around yours, and you knew that warm sensation would end as soon as his hand got cold too.

With a little hesitance, you step outside to brave the cold. Your heels click as you carefully make your way down the concrete steps in front of the house. You stare down at your feat as you make each movement, fearing accidentally rolling your ankle or falling. You'd probably take end up Spencer down with you.

"Hmm," Spencer hums, noticing your trepidation, "Here," Spencer untwines his hand from yours and places an arm around your back, reaching to your other side, but barely touches your other arm, just holds firm enough for you not to fall.

You reach the bottom of the stairs, thankful for Spencer's help,

"You don't have to hold me so far away you know, you can pull me a little closer." You turn your head to look at him, "I mean it is kind of chilly out."

"Oh-uh," Spencer's arm pulls to hold you just a little bit closer, "Better?" His grip is still pretty weak around you, and you sigh.

"You know, Spence, I'm still pretty cold." You frown, staring down the suit jacket he was wearing.

"Do you want to go back inside? I didn't even have a full beer the entire time I was there- I can go get my car real quick and drive you home if you want. It's only a block or so away." Spencer responds, his voice quick, and nervous- it was obvious he was eager to solve the problem of you being so cold.

"No," You laugh, shaking your head, "I'm cold is kind of girl-code for, you should give me your jacket."

"Oh!" Spencer laughs, "Oh- I'm sorry, yeah- here, here have it." Spencer speaks earnestly as he slips the jacket off of his shoulders. He shivers as the loss of the fabric leaves him in only a thin button up and you can't help but feel a little bad for asking him to give it to you. But he hands you the jacket with a smile on his face, which lingers even after you put it on. It provides a marginal amount more of warmth than what you felt prior.

"Better?" Spencer asks.

"Mhm," You nod, "Thank you."

Spencer only gives you a tight lipped smile and a nod in response.

"So," Spencer starts as the two of you begin walking, his hand slipping into yours almost instinctually, it catches you a little off guard, and you feel your cheeks run hot at the gesture. "Where are you headed?"

"Oh- uh, back to Boston I guess," You squint your eyes, thinking, "I usually take the bus, the stop is up that way." You point up ahead in front of you.

"Let me go with you," Spencer says quickly, "I mean- not to your place, but let me ride the bus with you, I don't want you going by yourself."

"Why not? I'm a big girl, I can take care of myself." You retort, trying to hide the fact that secretly, butterflies are growing in your stomach at his eagerness to take care of you.

"I just want to make sure you get home okay." His hand grips yours tighter.

"Okay," A small smile draws at your lips, you don't want to fight him on it anymore, truth was you'd love nothing more than to spend a little bit more time with him, even if it was a short bus ride.

The streets of the city are utterly dead, not a sound to be heard except the whistling of the wind and collision of your high heels and the pavement. You wonder what time it even is, how long had you even spent at that stupid party?

The bus is just as empty as the rest of the city. When it arrives, nobody but you and Spencer are on, the two of you sitting patiently under the bright fluorescent lights for the bus to move. The lights are straining on your eyes, and the horrendously carpet-patterned seats might hurt your eyes even worse.

"What stop do you get off at?" Spencer asks, being the one sitting the closest to the button to let the driver know when it's your stop.

"University Drive."

The lights dim as the bus driver pulls away from the stop you'd been picked up at, and you're able to relax your eyes once more. You let your eyes relax until all of a sudden they're closed and then-

"Hey," You feel your head being jerked, "We're here."

"Hmm?" You grumble, slowly opening your eyes.

Your stomach drops, and you're absolutely mortified to see your head is rested on Spencer's shoulder. You whip your head off from where it laid and quickly stand up from the seat.

The bus ride was fifteen minutes, you couldn't believe you fell asleep. Much less fell asleep on some guy you barely knew. You're a mess of worry as you exit the bus, thinking about how awkward you probably made Spencer feel. You're so caught up in your thoughts you barely notice how cold it is as you step outside.

"Hey, look, I'm right over there." You say, pointing to the large dorm building behind you.

"I'll walk you to the door." He smiles, and your panic immediately slides away.

You walk with your head down, looking intently at the sidewalk under you as you head forward to your building, trying your best to keep in a straight line. You had to admit, you were pretty upset your time with Spencer would be ending in just a few short minutes from now. You tried to scheme up a plan to get Spencer to stay longer, but no ideas would stick to your brain. You sigh, crossing your arms across your chest as you approach the front door.

You whip around to look at Spencer who's trailing just a few inches behind you.

"Well," You sigh, "I guess this is it." You pull your mouth to one side in a small pout.

"Yeah- I-uh, I guess so," He shrugs, "I had a nice time tonight, thanks for, making my first party experience a lot better than i was expecting." Spencer's hands are shoved into his pocket, and he rocks back and forth while he talks, unsure of himself as his eyes dart all around you.

"Of course," You grin, letting your hands drop down at your sides, "Say," You cut yourself off, and shove your hands into the pocket of Spencer's coat, fishing, until you find what you were hoping for. You pull out a pen from one of the coat pockets, and grab Spencer's hand. "I want to see you again before you become some big tough FBI agent." You smile, scrawling the digits of your phone number on the back of his hand. "Call me sometime?" You hold his hand up for an extra moment, before letting it drop back down.

"Mmmhm, yeah," Spencer bobs his head up and down vigorously.

"Okay, good. Goodnight Spencer," You smile, giving him a small wave.

"Goodnight y/n" He smiles back, as the two of you turn around to go your separate ways.

You notice as you turn back around that you're still wearing Spencer's jacket, part of you has the urge to call out to him to give it back, the other part of you wants to keep it- if he wants to get it back, he'll have to come see you again.

"Wait! Y/n!" You hear Spencer from just behind you. You frown a little, thinking your plan to keep Spencer's jacket had been foiled and he was calling to get it back from you.

"Yeah?" You whip your head back around.

"Did you mean it when you said to let you know if I wanted to have my first kiss- and that you'd change that I've never um-"

"Uhh..huh," You responded, a little to eager as an uncontrollable smile began to tug at the ends of your lips, "Are you asking me to kiss you Spencer?"

"Maybe," His voice breaks, unable to look you directly in the eyes.

You raise one eyebrow, "Maybe?"

"Ahem. Uh- I mean- yes."

Before you know it, you're tugging at his tie, pulling him close to you. Your lips are on his, just a peck at first, Spencer is hesitant. He is unsure of what to do with any part of his body, his lips move carefully, his hands unsure of just where they should be, they rest on your hips- before they move right under your shoulders. You make the decision to tilt your head and deepen the kiss. Spencer's lips are soft with inexperience, he has absolutely no clue what he's doing, yet you can't get enough.

The two of you pull away slowly, neither one of you wanting to give up the kiss- but you eventually have to surrender to the night and to the cold. You place one final peck on Spencer's lips.

"Now you have to call me." You giggle, unable to hide your excitement.

"Yeah-yeah," Spencer nods, eyes wide, his lips are shiny and his cheeks a pretty shade of pink. "Absolutely."

"Goodnight Spencer." You say once more, before turning around to head inside.

A/N: whew! when I tell you I spent all day writing this i mean all day! that's okay though... im obsessed with grad school! reid. anyways..... thinking about making a (potentially smutty) part two to this ;-)

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x yn #spencer reid x you #criminal minds fic #criminal minds #matthew gray gubler #spencer reid x f! reader

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winx-moths-mod-rewrite · 14 days ago

Text

Greetings fellow Winx Club Rewriters

I see youre upset about Rainbow using AI and being soulless in their reboot. From designs being bland to animation being 3D among other factors, we all agree this reboot will not be satisfactory.

So i propose something. All of us are artists. All of us have talent, and almost all of us have our own way of telling this story. What if we all got together and made the ultimate fan made official unofficial winx club animated reboot?

I know it sounds a bit scary since we all have so many diverse ideas, but trust me, I know we can do this. This fanbase has so much love and passion for all of these characters and this incredible magic dimension. For a lot of us, it was our childhood. Now i want to take soulless corporate greed and crush it under the fist of a fanmade reboot.

Sorry for getting so passionate im just really excited lol, ive had this idea for a while now. If youre interested in helping out in any way possible, please please please fill out the form below and if you can, tag a friend you think would be interested! This would mean so much to a lot of us, i know it would. Thank you for reading this far

Oh! And if you post things related to this, id prefer if you used the tag "winx club official unofficial rewrite". Thanks!!

#winx #winx club #winx club reboot #winx rewrite #winx club rewrite #winx club official unofficial rewrite

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cramathonn · 1 month ago

Note

ello! are your requests open? if so id like to request lighter x reader headcannons, can be nsfw

tbh an nsfw alphabet would be awesome but it’s up to you if you wanna do that much

anyways take your time, dont forget to drink water, byee! 👋

Oho? An NSFW alphabet request? For the very first time in all of my years of request writing? Hell yeah sibling! Let's get this show on the road!

After finishing thoughts: I started this before he came out... I was right about so many things about him and ON ACCIDENT... Welp, had to edit very little, but enjoy! Sorry for the long wait thought, that's my bad 😞

Reader: meant for anyone to read! No body parts will be specified and no pronouns except "you/yours" will be used

TW: none (as far as I am aware)

Content type: headcanon

MDNI! THERE WILL BE NSFW AFTER THE CUT!

Lighter NSFW Alphabet

A = Aftercare (what they're like after sex)

Butterfly kisses all over you and cleaning you up. Doesn't mind a quick after sex showers but they're not a must to him, so he'll only hop in if you insist he joins you. If you don't mind being a bit sweaty untill next morning, he'll gladly cuddle you and take a shower with you in the morning before going out to fulfill his duties as the Sons of Callydon's champion.

B = Body part (their favorite body part in themselves and their partner)

Listen, lighter's favorite body parts of his are his hands and face. He knows he's handsome, he knows he's a damned catch, yet your reactions are the ones that make his heart skip a beat. When you cup his face while making out? Oh, that man is putty now, congrats. Absolutely LOVES letting his hands explore your body, clothed or not, specially if your hands are smaller than his. I can imagine him getting even more turned on just by the fact that he's able to hold both of your hands above your head oh so easily, it's as if you were made for him and his hands to hold.

As for you, I'd say he also has a liking to your face, more specifically, your eyes. Lighter loves seing your different expressions, admiring how your eyes shine with the low blaze of the fireplace or how incredibly hot you look with them half-lifded, irises filled with desire as he touches you. Other favorite parts of his are your thighs and neck. Regardless if your thighs are built like sticks or squishy 'mallows, he will bite them, suck on them and mark them, because seeing them quiver at how good he's making you feel swells his heart with pride. And do I need to explain why the neck? Your scent is there, it's easy to see any marks he makes, if you don't wear high collared clothing, and it elicits such lovely reactions when he as much as touches it, so of course he loves your neck, let him bite it please.

C = Cum (anything cum related)

Lighter strikes me as the thick load type of guy. Doesn't release for long but it is thick. Prefers cumming inside of you, but won't argue if you'd prefer him to cum on your stomach. Oh but seeing your face coated in his relase? Immediate boner. He might have just came, but the moment he sees your face with ropes of his cum in it, it's joever, he's hard again and ready to go. Having you swallow his cum is also a big turn on for him, watching you loudly gulp it down just makes him all flustered inside.

However, if he's bottoming? Do whatever as long as it's not on his face, specifically his eyes. Like, he had to undergo surgery there for fuck's sake, so he's probably really finicky about things getting near them. Otherwise, go ham! Make him swallow you cum, coat his insides with it, cum on top of his pecks and/or stomach. Just keep it clean from his eyes and hair and you're Gucci.

D = Dirty Secrets (self explanatory)

He'd absolutely love to fuck you on his bike, I am not joking. The idea of you all beautiful, sweaty, naked on top of the seat of his bike while he fucks you, eats you or sucks you makes him so hard he has to excuse himself if he's around people.

Has an indescribable desire to masturbate together. Like, no sex, just the two of you masturbating in each other's presence or over a phone call. He wants to do it so bad but is INCREDIBLY anxious about asking it, so he'll leave it only for his imagination.

That and his wishes to be controled and degraded by you in bed. When Lucy degrades him? Nothing, nada, just another normal day. However, when you get angry and insult someone else? Gosh, he wishes that were him. You look so hot like that and he had no idea he liked that type of stuff... Also, pegging is involved in the "being controled by you" category. Please peg him. He'll never tell you he wants it, but god he's begging for it to happen mentally.

E = Experience (do they have experience and know what they're doing?)

My brain is split perfectly in the middle with this one. He either has a considerable amount of experience from his time in the underground ring or he has absolutely zero experience besides the few old movies he managed to fetch from the dumps. For the sake of making it more interesting for me, I'm going with the option that this motherfucker is a damned virgin before he meets you.

If you have more experience? Take the lead, show him what you like, how to pleasure you, help him explore himself and what makes his brain tick, what makes his throat tighten and his eyes glaze over. If neither of you have experience? Go slow together, explore each other and learn what each of you likes. He is absolutely embarrassed that he doesn't know what to do, so please be understanding and take it easy on your teasing for the first time.

Listen, I know he gives fuckboy vibes, the man with the rizz, people puller, the master of the dirty tango (kms for this one/j) but like, he only knows how to partially pleasure himself. Otherwise? Lighter has no idea where to touch or what to do. He would absolutely take the naughty tapes he found in the dumps and the few videos his poor internet allows him to acess as a guide, you'd have to slowly guide him through it.

F = Favorite position (self explanatory²)

In my eyes, Lighter doesn't really have a favorite position. He has preferred ones, yes, but he isn't against trying new ones. The ones he prefers more are Missionary and Cowgirl.

Why those two? Well, he can see your face and stare deep into your eyes in both and he also can grab your thighs during cowgirl to bring you down on him. Bonus, missionary can be varied in of itself! Arms around his neck, above your head, tied to the bed, heck it can even turn into a mating press if both of you are up for it. Its versatility and the fact he gets to see you sprawled beneath him or domineering above him makes it his most preferred position by far.

G = Goofy (Are they serious, goody, etc...)

He falls more on the serious side of the coin. Now, Lighter won't be against cracking a joke here and there, but he's not going to do it all the time. Considering we're going with the "Lighter has no sex experience" belief, he'd originally think he'd have to be hella serious during it, thanks to the videos he watched, but as things progress, he'd realize he could be a bit more goofy. It's not goofy all the time for obvious reasons, but he will tease you and strike a joke every now and then. After all, sex is also supposed to be an enjoyable and fun activity, and jokes are funny, right?

H = Hair (how well groomed? Do the color match?)

Listen, dude might live in the Outer ring, but I like to imagine he is partially groomed. He sees it getting too long and trims it, that's all he does, he doesn't want to yank it or fully shave it. As for color, yes, the carpet does match the drapes, albeit they're slightly more wavy down there at the very tip

I = Intimacy (are they romantic during it?)

Lighter is, to no one's surprise, very romantic during it (or tries to be). We already know that he is weak to romance, and I quote, would be willing to die for love. So, as someone who values you a LOT, he'd be romantic, trust. Kissing you while he fucks you, telling you how much he loves you, this man is pulling all the cards.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanons)

So, I mentioned it earlier, that sometimes he gets so hard he needs to jack off in order to get back to duty. Does it happen often? No, no it doesn't. Lighter is very well composed majority of the times and very respectful of you and your wishes. If you're not up for it, he'll understand and just go take care of his needs by himself. He doesn't see it as being neglected because, hey, not everything's about sex and his partner's wishes are just as important as his.

Now, if Lighter gets a hard on just as he's about to depart for a job with the Sons of Callydon, bro will be so frustrated (and embarrassed), get off his bike, excuse himself for five minutes (it's two), go at it as fast as he humanly can without hurting himself, clean as best as possible, go back like nothing happened and go to the mission. He has a reputation to keep, he can't be looking disheveled after a quick one or let anyone KNOW he beat a quick one, by that matter.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

This is the part where my brain wrecks itself because "do I throw my own shit here or do I go crazy?", so I decided to do BOTH!

Lighter striked me as the type to be super into degradation and praise during it. Getting degraded by you, called a slut, a dirty whore and the likes? Oh gosh, he's whimpering, he's a mess, he needs more. After the one time Lighter heard you degrade someone, that kink woke up. And boy oh boy, he might look all cool and stuff, taking compliments from others relatively well, but the moment YOU compliment him? It's over, he's a flustered shy mess and he will deny it to his GRAVE. However, complimenting him during it, saying how good he's doing, will make him almost immediately cum. He is a SERVICE first and foremost, keep that in mind.

Another one he looks like he'd have would be heat play specifically. Drip body safe wax on his body and watch him shiver at the sensation, he loves it. Also choking, please let him do it to you or do it to him. Like I said earlier, he loves your neck and loves seeing his hands on your body, so his hands enveloping your neck? Oh boy, that's so hot to him.

Another one: shibari. Tie him up or let him tie you up. That kink goes along his powerplay, not in a master way, because I think he'd cringe at that, but in a "I am in control here" situation. Being completely under your control is exhilarating to him and he'd absolutely love it. And another obvious one to me, biting. He loves seeing his bitemarks on you and loves the thought of being bitten back (if you do it, he will let out a low moan, so be aware of the power you hold)

L = Location (favorite locations to go at it)

Lighter prefers to be intimate in the comfort of his or your room. Or a secluded place where you two won't be seen, heard or be at risk of danger. He likes the persona he has in front of others and doesn't wanna ruin that but he also really appreciates his privacy, specially for things and situations such as these. While he's not opposed to doing it in public, he'd much rather do it at home, in your shared bed or at any location inside your house.

M = Motivation (what gets them going?)

Seeing you in little to no clothing. Yes, he's seen you naked, yes he's seen you in your underwear, yet it still gets him needy for you, same goes for sexy and/or tight clothes! You whispering dirty things into his ear, your consent and eagerness to go at it just as much as him ough, it makes him go crazy. Have you ever heard the saying "consent is sexy"? Yeah, that's Lighter's motto. He sees you consenting to him fucking your brains out? He's 10x more bricked now, good luck.

N = No (things he wouldn't do, turn offs)

Anything that involves blood. It's common knowledge he cannot stand the sight of it properly, so anything that involves blood is a no go. Also, consensual noncon is also a no go to him. Yes, you might have given your consent, but it feels wrong to him and makes him uncomfortable, so no.

O = Oral (giving, receiving, skill, etc...)

He is pretty indifferent on wether he receives or gives. But again, we're in the "Lighter is a virgin" timeline, therefore, he's not very... Skilled? I mean, he is naturally talented, but besides what he knows from masturbation, he's pretty much in the dark.

Once he gets the ropes though, he's a fucking expert at it, eats you out like you're his favorite dish and sucks you so well like GOD no one has given you head that good before...

Will melt and become a mess if you eat him out or give him head though. Eat him out for the first time and he'll be conflicted, but also on cloud 9. So, give him a break after so he can catch himself and process how he feels about this (he likes it, please eat him out more).

P = Pace (self explanatory³)

Lighter is, at first, slow and insecure. He has no experience, after all. But once he knows what he likes and what you like, it's on sight. You want fast and rough? Alright, he gotchu, you want him to go deep and strong but slow? Already on it! He can vary his pace pretty easily but, when on the receiving end, go rough. When he's feeling sore, be gentle with him but otherwise, go as rough as you can. He wants to feel every part of himself screaming the next day due to how good you made him feel.

Q = Quickie (opinion on them)

Doesn't mind them but prefers longer sessions. If the both of you are horny and in a rush, sure, he doesn't mind it, but wouldn't trade it for long nights with you.

R = Risk (do they take them)

Lighter prefers to play things safe. He is willing to experiment, yes, but if it involves risky things, you'll both need to have a looong talk about it and ensure you're prepared in case anything happens. If you TRULLY want it, he can try, but he'd prefer not to take unnecessary risks, specially not with you

S = Stamina (self explanatory⁴)

Bro is a BOXER for fuck's sake, he has a really good stamina. Can go until you're tired but usually lasts up to 5-6 rounds. Can last more with the... Right incentive (cough cough, aphrodisiac, cough cough), but comfortably lasts 5 and 6 with strain. He starts to cum faster after round 3 so... Be aware of that

T = Toys (do they own any? Do they use them? Self or partner?)

Again, virgin Lighter timeline. He has them, but most likely hasn't used them due to his anxiety. But if you offer to use it on him, he's not so opposed to it- oh, oh he's a moaning mess now... Welp, there's your answer, ig. Vibrators get to him faster, so if you make him use one in public, it'll take all of his might to maintain his composure and not just fucking FALL. He prefers when you use toys on him, but is willing to use them on you too if you really want it.

U = Unfair (do they tease? How much?)

Yes, he teased. When he's on top and dominating, he's going to tease you a lot, specially if you're acting a bit... Bratty. But when he's bottoming? Oh he's a brat, alright. He teases the ever living shit out of you because he finds your reactions endearing (and because it gets you to fuck him harder more often than not)

V = Volume

Top → grunts and huffs, bottom → moans and whimpers. Listen, his noise and his volume depend on his position and it is final. If he's bottoming, he'll be loud, moaning like a bitch in heat, cursing everything because of how good you're making him feel. But if je tops, he lets out more grunts, groans and growls. He'll still curse, but in more of a gruff voice when compared to bottom Lighter moments.

W = Wild Card (a random headcanon for the character)

Listen here, he's either trans and has the juiciest pussy known to man, or he has the biggest dick ever. In both headcanons he has mantits and ass, ok, those are interchangeable. He also likes when you slap his ass and collar him.

Do it, I dare you, he'll moan.

If you slap his ass in public he'll flinch and let out a TOTALLY not manly yelp and will proceed to glare at you with flushed cheeks.

Oh yeah, he also hides his flushed face behind his scarf (when he has it in hands, otherwise he uses his arms)

X = X–Ray

9 inches, slight curved up and thick. Rosy tip, methinks, with some veins popping out very slightly (good luck sucking that)

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

A considerably normal sex drive, when compared to his stamina. His mind is dirty, sure, but he doesn't want it all the time. When he wants it, though, it hits him kinda hard. Please help him, he's not rlly good at hiding it.

Z = Zzz (how fast do they fall asleep?)

Kinda fast, actually. He strikes me as the type to fall asleep considerably fast when he's not stuck overthinking... Or when he's been sucked dry beyon belief, turned into a raising, even. So yeah, he falls asleep easily as long as he isn't overthinking or is deadass tired

Written by Cramathonn on 30/12/2024 [dd/mm/yy]

Finished at 11:02pm

#zenless zone zero #lighter zzz #zzz x reader #zenless zone zero x reader #lighter x reader #zzz #storytellerdemon

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jaal-ama-daravv · 2 months ago

Text

dissecting act 3 & emmrichs final romance scene (mortal & lich)

dissecting the graveyard scene dissecting the mortal romance path scene dissecting the mortal emmrich argument scene (all routes) emmrich x rook cinematic (mortal)

lich version dissecting the alternate romance path dissecting the argument scene (lich path) dissecting the emmrich romance scene (lich) mortal vs lich romance path emmrich x rook cinematic

look this is half a thirst trap post im not gonna lie to ya

ACT 3 - OH MY GOD.

Now. We all know that dreaded argument scene that fills us with angst and really gets us in our feelings for the final 4 hours. which was 100% done on purpose, thanks bioware, you succeeded. i did in fact regret that conversation and cried immensely

We have the argument with Emmrich, then we have our mini resolution of Emmrich trying to apologise, and Rook responding with, "We'll talk back home Emmrich, I promise."

Fast forward an hour, and ive just about pulled the plug because emmrich gets trapped by Ghil, someone dies, and then we are sucked into the fade - trapped. FOR WEEKS.

I truly wish bioware included flashbacks, or rook being able to see the lighthouse whilst they were trapped so that we see our LI panic, and fret. Can you imagine Emmrich? The last conversation they had was a fight, and a fight that stemmed from love at that. regardless of the route you took, both rook and emmrich regret that argument deeply. I mean deeply. And most likely regret not saying, i love you in that moment. or any moment. god when emmrich got sucked up by ghil i was locked IN. nothing was stopping me.

Emmrich wouldn't of been able to sleep, he wouldn't of been eating, he would've been working day AND night like a dog on the dagger. he wouldve been irritable, he wouldve been incessant, he wouldn't of been put together, not clean shaven. id bet money on this.

despite bioware not giving us a good reconciliation scene or a glimpse at what happend during those weeks - BOY DID THEY FUCKING EAt with the pulling you out of the fade section. Oh my god. Emmrich's voice being timed right after Varric saying with "You have everything you need", AND THEN PULLING YOU OUT OF THE FADE WITH HIS ARM.

anyway - AFTER T H A T.

You have the romance scene (mortal dissection | lich dissection)

and then my god - i have no words - literally - just look

goodbye ovaries

The Final Goodbye (Mortal/Lich)

Now these are the exact same for both mortal and lich, ill tell you when its different below - to which this is dissapointing as I feel like the final romance scene is so 'meh'? it's very idk, scripted. I feel like there needs to be a dip in emmrichs voice when he says i love you to rook - maybe its just me, but regardless, its meh meh to me. the whole scene is just kinda -

I'll skip to the romance part anyway as there is nothing of substance in the first half

1. I love you, too.

I feel like - underwhelmed with this response. its just slapped on like a bumpersticker

2. I'm glad we met.

I cannot believe that this line of dialogue is hidden beneath the most basic of thought processes - i love it

its emotonal - its hopeful

YESSSS - PLAN WITH ME!!!! This is digustingly impactful if playing the mortal path. the man has hope for the future. oh I need not say more for its delivered so wonderfully.

HEHE

3. Be safe. I can't lose you.

I thoroughly enjoy this path, I feel so much emotion from Rook and Emmrich in these lines. the worry, the love. although it is kind of a shock to the system because we still went from. OH MY GOD DEATH, to oh yeah death with Emmrich.

exactly how the argument scene should've went, BUT, I get it, now if only we had a reconciliation scene in the middle or a conversation, i'd have no notes and be out of business

Now here is the divergence, of like two lines, that occurrs directly after the above dialogue

Lich Version

Mortal Version

its sweet, its sensual, its loving. but there no oomf. theres no, fear. the mortal version is my preference here as I like the slight reminder of emmrich being alive. in saying that, considering what we have been enamored with and reminded of at every single quest of his. but in the last romance dialogue its, gone? the fear overcome? one line, one word makes a difference. idk man. like I have my full speculation that there is a sequel with rook and companins again, and if there is ill let this go. but if this is it, WITH no epilogue screen? please, as much as i like fanfiction and headcanons and art. id like it IN the game.

a fantastic romance, but a stale last conversation. IN SAYING THAT. I choose to look past it as much as possible as it is sweet and I just love him.

ANYWAY, love you all, im pen for questions and the full emmrich dissection with all my very detailed explantions is coming in a few days

♥

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trashmouth-richie · 10 months ago

Text

eddie x reader ; a very light hint of steve x reader

a follow up to this which is a follow up of this

tw 18+ content, tied up, temperature play, steve is baby girl himbo in this very s3 coded, eddie is jealous + mean.

“that tickles, wow, cold— ow, very very cold— shit, shit!”

You slap a hand over his mouth, wide eyes staring into yours as if he is scared beyond belief.

“Shhhhh..” you press a chaste kiss to the underside of his jaw.

Your body was pressed in his, an ice cube held limply in your fingers as you traced it along his veiny shaft. Leaving goosebumps on his summer tanned skin.

“Eddie is home, do you want him to know that we’re fooling around? Cause I prefer to keep my bedroom adventures private.”

“No, no! You’re right, it’s just— really cold, when you said you wanted to get freaky I thought maybe you had a friend or something to go up my ass? I don’t know!”

You stare at him, waiting for him to say he was kidding but it never came. You sit up, the ice melting on your fingers dripping onto his sack, little whimpers from his mouth.

“Alright… King Steve is curious about assplay, noted. We can unpack that another time— for now, it’s either the ice or nothing, you choose.”

You kiss his chest, waiting for him to decide. He’s mumbling to himself, and you work your fingers in between the tufts of hair, eyes on him, your nipples skimming over his hot skin.

“…okay! Okay fine! Can I kiss you maybe?”

Steve was stretched like a voodoo doll across your bed, large hands tied to each bed post, unable to reach you, his lip in a pout as he attempted to wiggle his wrists free.

“Keep trying to get out of your restraints and you won’t be kissing me anywhere.”

He huffed, a strand of caramel hair tousling into his forehead, “I mean they’re tight— like really tight, you sure this is normal?”

You rolled your eyes and sat up again to examine the human ken doll that was played by Steve Harrington for the evening.

His wrists were red, fingers pale… fuck.

You tug at the knots, trying to wedge your fingers beneath them, and after five minutes of you trying you could see Steve’s hands looking worse.

“Alright— don’t panic!” you announced, sliding from the bed and pushing your arms through the red silk robe hanging from your closet, “and don’t move…. I’ll be…” scissors! “yeah, I’ll be right back!”

“What!? You can’t just leave me like th—!” he hollers your name and you try to muffle his calls of distress by shutting your door quickly.

Eddie was in his room, you could hear him playing his guitar— and he prayed he didn’t hear the muffled pleas from Steve.

Rifling through the kitchen junk drawer you find everything but the scissors. Chopsticks from too many late night orders of chinese takeout, ketchup packets, pens, a pack of markers, Eddie’s fake ID he had in high school, Wayne’s expired ID he tried to use at the gas station when you were sixteen and more rope.

The pair of you didn’t own a knife set, never having cooked anything that required culinary skills— you were at a loss— the only option left was to ask Eddie for his pocket knife. Goddamnit.

The walk to his room felt like miles long, and honestly you would have preferred if you never got there. His door was open, the low times of his acoustic guitar filled the air along with a haze of smoke.

A quick rap on his door and Eddie was looking up at you, cigarette limp from his lips, as he motions to the other side of his room with a nod of his head.

“…ham & pineapple no pepperonis, cash on the dresser.”

“What? Oh yeah, sure— forgot it’s Friday. Hey, ummm. I need a favor.”

Eddie smirks and shakes his head, “I’m not loaning you anymore bud, you already owe you twenty.”

“No— I’m not here for free weed, I need your knife.”

His eyebrows quirk and he waits for you to ask his silent “why?”

“It’s an emergency.”

“Your boss sucks sweetheart, 100%— but you can’t kill him.”

“Eddie shut up,” you whine, stomping your foot, “I just need to borrow it—I'll give it right back!”

He rolls his eyes, leaning over to grab his knife from his back pocket, “tell me what you need it for.”

You stare at him, mouth open, “I…can’t.”

“Okay? and why not?”

Your name is heard in a wail from your room and your cheeks heat with embarrassment.

“is someone in there?”

Scrubbing your hands down your face you finally admit it, “Yes! Jesus fuck! Now will you please either help me or give me the knife, he’s stuck!”

It takes everything in Eddie to try not to laugh, but he simple hides his lips and nods, thinking to himself what kid. of shit you’d gotten into now, and with who?

He follows you into your room, watching your form move beneath the silk robe, trying to keep his eyes from staring too long or imagining what lie beneath the thin fabric.

Your eyes are covered when you open the door so you miss the shock on Steve’s face to see his best friend walk into your room. His dick is still out, laying against his hairy thigh, and the only thing he can do is an awkward jock head nod followed by a “sup?”

Thankful that he has a good poker face, Eddie nods back, ears crimson in anger, biting his tongue as he flips the blade out with flare. Behind his dark eyes He was fuming.

Steve?

STEVE HARRINGTON?

Of all people you could have tied up in here in some makeshift attempt at whatever you thought you were doing— it had to be him.

Heads would fucking roll when this was over and him and Steve were alone.

Slicing through the ropes like they were nothing, Eddie simply raises his eyebrows and shakes his head, leaving with his mind grinding like gears on how to stop this from happening again.

—

“Thanks for calling Family Video. Our hours are 10-10 Sunday through Saturday, stop in to rent our latest releases, this is St—”

“Harrington.”

“Hey man, hey— thanks for uh, helping me out the other night. I really o—”

“Yeah, you do,” the cord bounces on the floor as Eddie turns the corner, looking back at you in the living room asleep on the couch— walking to his room, “that’s why whenever she calls… you are going to make up whatever excuse that big hair of yours can..”

“Wait..?”

Eddie grits your name out through clenched teeth.

“If she calls to hang out, you will find a reason not to, y’ catch my drift, pal?”

“Ye-yeah, sure thing… what should I say?”

“I don’t care Harrington, make something up… tell her you have a girlfriend, you have the measles, I really don’t give a fuck what it is, as long as I never have to walk into her room and see your dick again.”

Steve narrows his eyes, blurring the neon lights in the video store, “dude, what the hell?”

“Sarah is single— I’ll give you her numb—”

“Okay? But so is she, why are you acting like an asshole right now?”

You. He was being a dick because of you. Sick and tired of you not willing to admit you both had feelings for eachother, and he was ready to pull out the big guns in order to make it happen.

“Don’t worry about it.”

taglist: @likedovesinthewnd @dashingdeb16 @joejoequinnquinn @min-geniusx @ho3forfakeguys @taintedcigs @b-irock @queenimmadolla @serasvictoria @the-unforgivenn @curlyjoequinn @munsonlore @eiightysixbaby @munsonburn3r

#eddie munson #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #fic recs #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #stranger things #eddie blurb #eddie munson blurb #eddie drabble

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hoshiina · 7 months ago

Text

pairing: hoshina soushirou x gn!reader (no prns)

request: hiii idk if u take these kinds of requests but id like to see jealous reader (preferably if reader and hoshina are already in an established relationship and reader works in a different division, meaning they dont get to see each other much) like maybe he’s used to calling okonogi “my dear” and its the first reader heard him call anyone with a pet name like that and she starts to overthink and gets pouty/ sulky and hoshina doesnt notice it at first but when he does he starts teasing her which doesnt help HAHAHAHA if its ok can it be hurt/ comfort and end in fluff & HELLO!! can i request an angst to fluff with hoshina where reader thinks he likes okonogi more than him especially since he is against revealing him n reader’s relationship to the third division (for other reasons of course). hopefully this isnt too specific!! i hope u have a wonderful day:))

notes: hoshina calls the reader “darling”, hurt comfort, him accepting jealousy a valid emotion (very important to me i fear), so sorry i merged the reqs!! i hope this was satisfactory for both TY FOR THE REQ!, this is a twt thread i thought about while writing this, (l/n) mention in the bonus part

wc: 1400

Oh, you hated when this happened. You hated when your heart started to tighten in this horrible way you knew well. You hated being jealous.

You hated how self centered it made you feel and how it ate away at your thoughts and feelings. It made you feel like your good thoughts were disintegrating to horrible ones. However, what you hated even more was how it meant you were doubting his love for you— and that was the last thing you wanted to do. You didn't want to doubt him, nor did you doubt him, but when the jealousy got to your head it was over. You were stuck in a loop.

To top it off, the cause of this all was truly harmless and hardly that big of a deal, but that's usually how most anxious thoughts start. They start little.

You were called to visit the 3rd Division to help with research on a field you were particularly knowledgeable on, and you happened to hear Hoshina's laughter from the operation room, so you went in to take a peek.

“It was not that funny,” Okonogi was saying to him, but Hoshina only continued to laugh.

“Yes, it definitely was,” he laughed. “I knew Kafka would forget about that hole in the training grounds again.”

“Why don't you remind him, then?”

“Comedic relief, of course.”

“Alright then.”

“Okonogi dear, you're no fun,” he said.

They said a few more things, but you couldn't seem to focus on their words. ‘Dear’? Was that merely a simple pet name? Or was there more to them than you initially expected?

Oh, the worries started to fill your head. And they were things you didn't want to be worried about— Okonogi was always so sweet to you when you popped by and you knew Hoshina loved you. The last thing you wished to do was doubt them, nor did you want to make things awkward around them. There were just so many things that you just didn't know about, being in a different division as him. You doubted they even knew you were dating, and the voice in your head would only get louder.

It was then that Hoshina saw you at the doorway and called over to you.

“Are you done with work?” he asked, his voice excited and hopeful. Your heart stung.

“Not quite yet,” you tried to sound disappointed, but for the right reason. “I’ll get going now.”

You walked away from the room as quickly as you could, seemingly naturally. You didn't want to be there and you didn't want to talk to him before calming down first— you were sure you'd say something silly if you spoke now.

Yet, immediately you heard footsteps behind you and a hand you knew well grab yours.

“Soushirou?” you asked, turning to look behind you.

“What's wrong?” he asked, his voice soft and visible concern in his eyes. “Do you feel unwell?”

Pang in your chest again.

“Not at all, nothing's wrong?” you said, but you could see the way he pursued his lips— the hurt in his eyes from how you wouldn't tell him what was troubling you. Gosh, why did you feel this way? Why must you feel much silly emotions.

“It's truly so stupid,” you said. “I'll tell you another time.”

“Alright,” he said, letting go of your hand. That one was your bad— you knew he wouldn't push you any further, even if he wanted to.

Dinner that night was awkward. You weren't even that jealous, but the fact that you felt something was gnawing at your brain upset you. Not to mention the fact that you were keeping something from him made you feel even worse.

“How was your training?” you asked.

“Alright, I suppose,” he said. There was a horrible moment of silence. You weren’t sure what to say.

“I think I’m getting a hang of this new technique,” he finally continued, but you wouldn’t look up at him— you were afraid he wouldn’t look your way.

“I see,” you said. “That’s really cool… I’d like to see someday.”

“I’ll show you as soon as its better,” he said.

The rest of dinner felt… quiet. The two of you still talked throughout it but it was terribly different from the usual lively catch-up you’d have— it was heart-wrenching quite frankly.

So as you’d imagine, going to sleep was even worse. You subconsciously faced away from him and pretended to fall asleep quickly, hoping he’d sleep soon too. You hated what was going on, but you just couldn’t bring this up. You knew it was silly and you knew you’d forget soon enough. You’d probably regret making such a big deal out of it.

“Darling,” he said, and immediately you turned to face him. He was already facing you. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t feel like it… I’m sorry I pushed you.”

Gosh, you thought. You gulped. You wished he wasn’t so kind.

“You’re going to think I’m so annoying though,” you said, voice cracking in a way you didn’t wish for it to and immediately his eyes widened.

“Darling, what happened?” he asked, suddenly worried. “You could never be annoying to me.”

“I… heard you…” you started and he just listened— he waited. “I heard you calling Okonogi, ‘dear.’ And suddenly I—”

“I’m so sorry,” he said, without hesitation. “I hadn’t even realized I did that, it was completely by habit. I won’t anymore.”

You finally met his eyes and the way he looked so horrified he had made you feel bad was so prominent in his eyes.

“No, Soushirou,” you said. “I didn’t mean for you to have to change anything— I know so well that both of you are so sweet to me and there’s nothing going on. I just—”

“Darling, calm down,” he said, cutting you off. “You’ve done nothing wrong, why are you beating yourself up? This was my bad and that’s about it. None of this is you.”

“I—,” you said, taking a moment to collect yourself. “I hate to be jealous, Soushirou. I’m so sorry.”

“Why?” he asked and you paused to look up at him, utterly confused.

“Why?” he asked again.

“It’s such an… ugly feeling,” you said.

“Is it?”

“Is it… not?”

“What’s wrong with being jealous?”

“Because it’s like I’m doubting you or something… when I don’t at all.”

“I think that’s a different thing entirely, no?” he asked. “You can know in your head that I’m in love with you and still feel something else— they’re not always the same. A little jealousy is perfectly healthy, I think.”

“Oh…” you said. You wanted to say so much more but there was so much to process first. Your heart swelled with such warmth.

“I get jealous too. I hate when Narumi gets too close to you or bothers you when I’m not around,” he continued on. “But in my head I know you’d never do anything to hurt me and you’d stop him if he crosses a line. I’ll try to stop if that bothers you though.”

“No,” you said. “That sounds… nice. I’m rather… happy… you were a jealous actually. But I’ll make sure to keep some more distance between Captain Narumi next time.”

He laughed. “Sounds good. But you tell me if there’s anything more that bothers you okay. I’ll fix myself up.”

“I will,” you said and he kissed your forehead. “But Soushirou, I don’t mind much anymore. You can stay the way you are.”

“No, no, stop overthinking. You need to sleep now, you have an early morning tomorrow.”

“Yeah. You too Sou,” you said and he hummed.

Once you were certain he was asleep, you kissed his cheek and slipped your hand into his. You liked holding his hand when you fell asleep, but you weren’t sure if it made it harder for him to fall asleep.

“Thank you,” you whispered to him. “You mean the world to me.”

You lightly kissed his cheek, careful not to wake him up, but to your surprised he smiled. He squeezed your hand and without opening his eyes, “You missed,” he said.

He kissed you on the lips and you laughed, snuggling up against him. “You were awake.”

“I was waiting for you to hold my hand,” he said. “I like when we hold hands when we sleep.”

BONUS:

From then on, Hoshina stopped calling Okonogi “dear” as much, and it’d only happen when it truly slipped out of him from force of habit.

“Vice-Captain, you’ve started dating (l/n), haven’t you?” she said to him one day while they were sorting through files.

“How... did you know?” he asked. The two of you had been dating for quite a while now, but he was more surprised she guessed you correctly.

“It’s terribly obvious you’re completely in love,” she said.

He blinked. And then he laughed.

He’d have to ask you that night if he can share the news with everyone, properly, then.

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tojisun · 5 months ago

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Soap cumming so much in the condom that when he pulls out you can feel the cum in the condom slipping out of you too. I dunno if that makes sense

it does!!! and that is sooo filthy oh my god yk thats how it’d be with him fr

cw: cum eating. THIS IS FILTHY I DUNNO WHY I WROTE IT

he pulls out and the drag makes you tremble, sure, but then you clock in the feeling of something less tangible sliding out of you too. it’s warm and wriggling, and you begin to heave, panicked for a moment because what the fuck? whatthefuck—

you realize what it was when johnny’s finally pulled all of him out, and when you flick your eyes down to get a glimpse of what the hell was it that you felt, you jolt to a pause at seeing the condom drenched and filled to the brim with his cum.

or god thinking about how he pumped so much cum in the condom that when he pulls out, the condom stays in your pussy because of its new weight, with his cock slipping out easily. he laughs at the lewd image you make with the condom still snug inside you.

he has to pull it out himself, and he does so with a breathless giggle. the filled-condom comes out with a pop, and johnny trembles at seeing all his cum pooling at the end of it. it’s filthy and he knows post-nut clarity will hit soon, but for now he shoots you a look, his lips tugging up in a mean grin.

“open wide, bon,” he coos, unbelievably delighted, and you hiccup, sniffling, but part your lips open, waiting for your feeding.

he can hear himself breathing heavily as he pours it in your mouth. it is a messy pour, some of it spill from your mouth, but most of it make it on the flat of your tongue. waiting. ready to be swallowed.

johnny taps your nose, and murmurs, “go on. then, stick yer tongue out, okay? wan’ see how it’d look empty.”

your body lurches as you swallow, and johnny has to clamp his palm on your mouth to deter you from spitting it all out. it takes a ragged minute before you settle back, face still pinched, and johnny promises that he’ll change his diet from now on to help you out, before he sees you tap at his wrist.

he drops his hand and watches as you open your mouth again. your tongue is still stained with the pearly sheen of his cum, but it is otherwise empty. god, you’ve swallowed everything.

“aww, such a good darlin’,” he trills and bends down to press a kiss on your trembling, and still parted, lips.

his nose curls when he gets a lick of himself. yeah, he really prefers your taste, after all.

im so sorry yall 😣 “i dunno why i wrote it” ik why. bc i would let this man do anything to me for sure. id let him **** his **** in me. let him ** **** while he ****** my *****. let his ***** *** me too why not

#anon #johnny soap mactavish #johnny mactavish x reader #soap smut #ask #suns

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toastylicious · 3 months ago

Text

I need help for an oc-based zine!

Hello hello hello! Do you have original characters? Do you like art/writing? Well boy, do I have a zine for you!

I'm planning to make a zine called "Toaster oven". It'll focus on ocs and their worlds, and will be formatted like a gossip tabloid!

Here are the columns/parts/whatever that will be included (if enough people participate, of course.)

LANDLINE - An advice column.

JAWBREAKER - A gossip/journalism column.

DEAR DOVE - An interview column!

BREWER'S CHOICE - A cooking column. (Can include spells)

PENCILKILLER - Little tasks / comics / poems.

And fake in-character ads!

How you can help:

LANDLINE - Send me a dm, ask (preferred), or reply to this post with a question your oc would send into an advice column! Example question (yours can be longer, but id recommend keeping this format) : "Dear Landline. I am a multiversal traveller (M, 45+), and I've been travelling like this ever since I got separated from my (adopted) child (Agender, infinitely old????). Recently, I have been dealing with my boss's bullshit, some random guy that looks like the guy that attempted to capture my child and grandchild, and a horrible family reunion. Which alcoholic beverages would you recommend for my situation? Preferably ones that can be consumed by machines. Many thanks." -@toastylicious

(obviously, replace the text within the "" with your own and the @ with your own) THERE WILL BE 3 LANDLINE PARTICAPANTS CHOSEN (2/3 slots filled)

JAWBREAKER - Send me a dm or an ask or reply to this post with a tabloid-style "article" about your oc/an event that happened to them. 500 word minimum, 1500 word maximum. BONUSSS: you can add 1-3 images of your oc that will be placed with the text. (Image not required, preferred) THERE WILL BE 3 JAWBREAKER PARTICAPANTS CHOSEN (1/3 slots filled)

DEAR DOVE - Reply to this post with your oc and some info about them. If you're chosen, I'll dm you questions for your characters and you dm me answers! THERE WILL BE ONE DEAR DOVE PARTICAPANT CHOSEN (1/1 slots filled)

BREWER'S CHOICE - Send me a dm or an ask or reply to this post with a recipe that your oc would use. It can be a recipe for a meal, a spell or a potion. BONUSSS: You can add an image (preferably drawing) of the meal/spell/potion your oc would make. For example, if you send in a recipe for enchanted croutons that electrocute you if you eat them, draw someone getting electrocuted by the croutons! (Image not required, preferred) THERE WILL BE 3 BREWER'S CHOICE PARTICAPANTS CHOSEN (1/3 slots filled)

PENCILKILLER - Send me a dm or an ask or reply to this post with a small 1-2 panel comic, a little task the reader could do (Drink water, do some streches, idk!), or a poem!

THERE WILL BE 4 PENCILKILLER PARTICAPANTS CHOSEN (1/4 slots filled)

ADS - Send me a dm or an ask or reply to this post with a drawn "ad". Obviously, these aren't actual ads. But they can be your oc trying to sell something! A witch selling her spice brew? A necromancer selling his dead-2-life services? A robot looking to buy parts? The options are endlessssss!

THE NUMBER OF ADS IS UNDECIDED (0/? slots filled)

ALL PARTICAPANTS WILL BE CREDITED, HOWEVER I CANNOT PROMISE CONPENSATION. THE FINISHED ZINE (If finished) WILL BE FREE.

DEADLINE: 01 / 02 / 2025 (Deadline is flexible, can change.) As always, reblogs and sharing appreciated :) Please help me spread this stupid idea and make it into a reality! WE NOW HAVE AN OFFICIAL DISCORD!

#zine #zine promo #art zine #ocs #oc #original character #drawing #artists on tumblr #art #digital art #sorry for tagging this as art #writing #writers #tabloid #lore #oc lore #oc zine #toaster oven zine

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luvr444writes · 2 months ago

Note

hii! soo i have a rodrick heffley request! (sorry if it's a bit vague) also id prefer if they're fem-focused but if you wanna do gender neutral that's cool too

rodrick heffley x childhood next door neighbor reader troupe where:

reader has always had a crush on rodrick since they were kids and they used to be close to rodrick, but as they got older rodrick got a bit meaner and they distanced a little bit (still friends at school, just rarely visits)

reader still likes rodrick but he's so infatuated with heather hills that all they can do is hurt on the inside like HURTT like YEOWCH MY HEART type hurt

however, when reader and rodrick's family have a little neighborhood party they start talking more and rodrick starts to see reader as a romance-able option. like, wdym this hottie has been next door the entire time!

so now rodrick starts thinking about them more and getting more nervous around them but rodrick wants heather! right..??

also i'm hoping it has a bit of a dramatic but happy ending, rather than just, "i love you dork!" "hehe i love you too..." mwa mwa mwa

Hii ! I tried my best to write this how you wanted, but again, I am new to writing. If this isn't what you were hoping for, I am so, so sorry! Xx

---

Rodrick Heffley x Fem!reader

---

It was a warm Friday evening, mid-summer, and the Heffley family had decided to throw a small neighborhood party. You stood in your own backyard, glancing over at the bustling scene—colorful lights strung around the trees, laughter mingling with the scent of grilled burgers wafting through the air. Your heart ached at the thought of a certain heffley child, Rodrick Heffley, your childhood friend and long-time crush, socializing with his friends, all while seeming completely enthralled by the fact that Heather Hills was in his backyard and had even spoke to him.

You had known Rodrick for as long as you could remember. The two of you were inseparable as kids, your summers filled with bike rides, silly games, and dreams of becoming rock stars together. But as puberty hit, things began to change. Rodrick started hanging out with a different crowd, often acting like the cool, disinterested boy who had little time for anything other than his music and Heather’s captivating smile. It hurt seeing him shift away from you, but you tried to respect his space, even if it felt like your heart was slowly crumbling into pieces.

The party was in full swing, and you debate whether or notyou should join in. Yes, you had received an invite to the get together, Mrs. Heffley knocking at your front door to do so and to make it known how much she missed having you around the house. However, it seemed awkward. You hadn't spoken to them in a while. Maybe you could just be a quiet observer, sipping lemonade and enjoying the glow of the festivities from a distance.

You glance around the party and caught sight of Rodrick, laughing with his friends, his signature smirk plastered on his face. As pride swells in your chest, a pang of longing follows closely behind.

“Hey, you okay?” Your best friend waves her hand in front of your face, pulling you back to reality. “You’ve been staring at Rodrick for like, ten minutes.”

You shrug, forcing a laugh. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just thinking…”

“About him, right?” She raises an eyebrow, a teasing smile creeping onto her lips. “You know he’s been crushing on Heather for ages, right?”

You nod, feeling the familiar sting of jealousy surge through you. “I know. It doesn’t matter. Besides, we’re just friends now.” If even that anymore, you mentally scoff.

But deep down, the truth was hard to ignore. Every interaction you had with Rodrick was laced with an unrequited tension, one that left you feeling both hopeful and hopeless.

As the night continued, you finally decide to suck it up, push your nerves aside, and get a plate of food. You stroll towards the grill only to bump into Rodrick himself, carrying burgers and hot dogs, a look of surprise washing over his features. “Oh, hey,” he says, running a hand through his messy hair.

“Hey,” you manage, your voice faint.

A pause stretches between you, both of you searching for something to say. “Didn’t expect to see you here,” Rodrick admits, glancing toward the large crowd of people in his yard before focusing back on you. “You’ve kinda been MIA lately.”

“Yeah, I guess so.” You shift your weight from one foot to the other, suddenly feeling shy. “Just busy with school and stuff, you know?”

Rodrick chuckles, an easy sound. “It’s crazy how fast time flies, huh? We used to hang out every day.”

“I miss those days,” you find yourself saying, surprising both of you. “I miss you.” Why would you say that?, you groan internally.

His expression softens for a split second before he regains his composure, clearing his throat. “Yeah, me too. But hey, did you hear about the new band I’m working on? It’s going to be sick!”

Your heart flutters at the mention of music—the one thing that always connected the two of you. “I didn’t! Is it going well?”

As he launches into an excited explanation about practice sessions and his plans for the band, you can't help but get lost in the way his eyes light up when he talks about his passion. For a moment, all thoughts of Heather vanish from your mind.

Suddenly, Rodrick pauses mid-sentence, regarding you with a contemplative look, looking almost embarrassed. “You, uh, actually want to hear this, right? I'm not boring you?” He asks, recalling just 20 minutes ago when he tried telling Heather Hills the exact same thing, before noticing how uninterested she looked.

“Of course I do!” You reply, genuine enthusiasm spilling from your lips. “You’re talented, Rodrick. I’ve always admired that about you.”

He shifts closer, his demeanor changing from cocky to vulnerable as he studies you with newfound interest. “Thanks. That means a lot coming from you. I mean, you’re—you’re really cool.”

Your breath hitches, heart racing as he leans in slightly, the air thick with unspoken words. Just then, Heather appears, giggling as she joins Rodrick’s group, flashing him a big, fake, radiant smile. The spell broke, and you felt your heart sink once again.

“Rodrick!” She calls, and you watch as he turns, momentarily captivated by her presence. You step back, heart aching, the tension from moments ago quickly dissipating into thin air.

Heather spares you a quick, bitchy glance, before grabbing Rodrick by the arm and whisking him away from you all over again.

The night wore on, and the party continued, but you found it harder to join in. Instead, you sat on the porch, watching the festivities unfold from a distance. Rodrick stole glances at you throughout the evening, but each time he seemed to hesitate, torn between the allure of Heather and the strange pull you had on him.

Eventually, your best friend found you sitting alone, leaning against the porch railing. “What’s wrong? You’re missing out on all the fun!”

“I don’t know,” you confess, feeling the weight of your emotions pressing down. “I just wish things were different.”

“Different how?” she probes, nudging your shoulder playfully.

“Like… I wish Rodrick could see me the way he sees Heather,” you murmur, fresh tears brimming in your eyes, quickly wiping them away in embarrassment.

"Hey," She whispers, voice softer than before. "You're amazing. I mean, like, 100 times better than Heather Hills." She scoffs, "If he can't see that, then he really doesn't deserve you.

You smile, leaning your head on her shoulder and looking out at everyone enjoying themselves.

After some time, your friend had left you and you hear footsteps approaching. Lifting your head from looking at your shoes, you seen it was Rodrick, walking toward you with purpose, the party background noise fading into nothingness. You blink, trying to make sense of the expression on his face.

“Hey,” he starts, his voice quieter than usual. “Can we talk?”

“Uh, sure,” you reply, your heart racing.

He leans against the railing beside you, stealing a glance toward the party and then back at you. “I, um… I’ve been thinking.”

“About what?” you ask carefully, hoping to mask the tremor of your voice.

“About you,” he admits, his cheeks slightly flushing. “I know I’ve been kind of a jerk and distant, but… I realized something tonight. I’ve been so focused on Heather that I didn’t notice just how much I've missed you and how amazing you are.”

Your heart soars, but the fear of rejection lingers. “Rodrick… you’ve made it pretty clear how you feel about her.”

“Yeah, but…” he hesitates, searching your face for understanding. “I don’t want to overlook someone who’s always been there for me. Heather isn't you. You’ve been my neighbor since forever, my best friend, always stood by me... even when I treated you terrible. And tonight, it hit me that I like you… I-I've always liked you.”

The words hung heavy in the air, “You like me?” you repeat, disbelief dancing in your voice.

“Yeah. I do,” he confirms, a shy smile breaking through his earlier doubt. “I just didn’t fully realize it till now.”

For a beat, silence envelopes you, a shared weight in the moment. “So… what does that mean?” you ask, heart pounding.

“Maybe we could start again? Like, forget all the awkwardness and go for ice cream or something?” He rubs the back of his neck, a nervous habit you found endearing. "Or.. There's this concert Saturday night that I got tickets to. I, uh, was gonna invite a buddy from the band, but I'd, um, I'd rather go with you." He stutters nervously.

You felt giddy, disbelief slowly melting away. “I’d like that,” you whisper, unable to suppress the smile that's spreading across your face.

Rodrick grins, a boyish gleam returning to his eyes as he reaches out, intertwining your fingers. “Great. I'll come get you at, like, 6 o'clock, Saturday..?”

"Yeah, sounds good." you laugh, cheeks burning bright red and hands starting to clam up with nerves.

As the night continued, you and Rodrick hung out with his friends, cracking jokes in the Heffley's backyard. However, all you could think about was, what on earth were you gonna wear Saturday night?

#rodrick heffley #reqs open #rodrick heffley x reader #rodrick x y/n #rodrick x reader #rodrick heffley imagine #diary of a wimpy kid #loded diper #rodrick heffley x y/n #devon bostick #devon bostick x reader #rodrick rules

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isuckatwritingsobenice · 5 months ago

Note

This is my first time requesting a fic so I hope I'm doing it right! I have this cute idea for a hazbin hotel fic that could honestly go for anyone!(Id prefer Lucifer, alastor or vox tho!)

Something where the reader's sin was killing a goldfish, hamster or something small as a small child without knowing any better and that's why they are sent to hell. It takes forever for the reader to remember that it happened and realize that's the only thing they could be in hell for and brings back a bunch of guilt. Whoever it's with is like- really pissed at heaven for counting that as a sin because the reader is literally the sweetest person anyone knows and was just a kid and either comforts them or tries to do something about it??

A/N: I loved this so I decided to write this for all three of them!! I just loved this so much so I felt like it needed all of them if that makes sense. I hope you enjoy and I loved this concept so thank you so much for your request!! happy reading!!

Navigation!! // Masterlist!!

Alastor aka RADIO DEMON

The realization hit you like a punch to the gut—an old memory, long buried and forgotten, resurfacing with a sharp pang of guilt. You had been in Hell for what felt like an eternity, surrounded by the damned and the wicked, but you had never been able to recall what sin had condemned you to this place. You weren’t like the others. You didn’t have a trail of victims or a past stained with blood. You were kind, gentle, always trying to do right by others. And yet, here you were, trapped in this eternal torment.

The memory came back slowly, piece by piece, until it all fell into place. You had been so young, just a child, maybe four or five years old. The goldfish had been a gift from your parents, a small, delicate thing that had fascinated you. You’d watched it swim in its little bowl, entranced by its shimmering scales and the way it moved through the water with such grace.

But you were a child, curious and clumsy, and you didn’t understand the fragility of life. You remembered reaching into the bowl, wanting to hold the fish, to feel its smooth scales against your skin. But when you pulled it out of the water, it had flopped in your hands, struggling for breath. You didn’t understand what was happening, didn’t realize that you were hurting it. By the time you’d put it back in the water, it was too late. The fish had floated to the surface, still and lifeless.

You’d cried, of course, but you hadn’t understood the gravity of what you’d done. You were just a child. But now, as you stood in the depths of Hell, that memory filled you with a crushing guilt. Was that it? Was that the reason you had been sent here? For something so small, so innocent, done out of ignorance and childish curiosity?

As the weight of the memory settled on you, you felt a presence behind you. The air grew thick with a sense of unease, and you knew without turning around that Alastor, the Radio Demon, was there. He had taken an interest in you from the moment you arrived in Hell, though you could never quite figure out why. Maybe it was your innocence, your kindness, that intrigued him—qualities so rare in this place.

“Ah, my dear,” Alastor’s voice purred, smooth and dripping with a dark amusement. “What is it that troubles you? You look positively distraught.”

You turned to face him, your eyes wide and filled with a deep sorrow. “I remember… I remember why I’m here,” you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion.

Alastor raised an eyebrow, his smile never faltering but his crimson eyes narrowing slightly with curiosity. “Oh? And what, pray tell, is this dreadful sin that has condemned such a sweet, innocent soul to Hell?”

You hesitated, the words sticking in your throat. It seemed so ridiculous, so absurd now that you were about to say it out loud. But the guilt gnawed at you, and you couldn’t keep it in any longer. “When I was a child… I… I killed a goldfish,” you admitted, your voice barely more than a whisper. “I didn’t mean to. I didn’t understand. But it died because of me.”

For a moment, there was silence. Then, Alastor let out a soft, almost incredulous laugh. It wasn’t the cruel, mocking laugh you had expected, but something tinged with disbelief and anger—not at you, but at the situation.

“Is that it?” he asked, his tone sharp and incredulous. “That’s why you’re here? Because of some childhood mistake? A simple, innocent act of curiosity?”

You nodded, tears welling up in your eyes. “I didn’t mean to… I didn’t know… but that’s the only thing I can think of. That has to be it.”

Alastor’s expression darkened, his usually jovial demeanor replaced by a cold, simmering anger. “Heaven,” he spat, the word laced with venom. “What hypocrites. To send a child to Hell for something so trivial, so insignificant, is beyond cruel. It’s unjust.”

You looked at him, surprised by the intensity of his reaction. “But… but it was still wrong,” you said softly, the guilt still gnawing at you. “I took a life, even if it was just a goldfish. Maybe I deserve to be here.”

Alastor shook his head, his eyes flashing with a dangerous light. “No, my dear, you do not deserve this. You were just a child, and children are not held accountable for their innocent mistakes. You were condemned unfairly, and it infuriates me to see someone as pure as you suffer because of it.”

He stepped closer, his hand reaching out to gently tilt your chin up so that you were looking into his eyes. “Listen to me,” he said, his voice low and firm. “You are not like the others here. You do not belong in this wretched place. If I could, I would march up to Heaven myself and demand that they right this wrong, that they acknowledge the cruelty of their judgment.”

You stared at him, shocked by the passion in his voice, the anger in his eyes. You had always seen Alastor as a being of pure malice, a demon who took pleasure in the suffering of others. But now, in this moment, he was different. He was angry for you, on your behalf, and it stirred something deep within you.

“Alastor…” you whispered, your voice breaking.

He sighed, his expression softening slightly as he looked at you. “But alas, there is little I can do to change your fate. The rules of Heaven and Hell are not easily bent, even by one as powerful as I. However,” he added, his voice taking on a softer, almost tender tone, “I can offer you something else. Comfort, companionship… protection. You may be in Hell, my dear, but I will not allow you to suffer alone.”

The offer took you by surprise, and you found yourself staring up at him, unsure of what to say. Alastor, the Radio Demon, offering comfort and companionship? It seemed almost too surreal to believe. And yet, there was something in his eyes, something genuine that made you believe he meant every word.

You nodded slowly, a tear slipping down your cheek. “Thank you,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “I… I don’t know what to say.”

Alastor smiled, a smile that was still tinged with that ever-present darkness, but also with something warmer, something almost… kind. “You don’t need to say anything, my dear. Just know that you are not alone. Not anymore.”

With that, he pulled you into an embrace, his arms surprisingly gentle as they wrapped around you. You leaned into him, the weight of your guilt and sorrow easing just a little as you allowed yourself to be comforted. It wasn’t much, but it was enough—for now. And maybe, just maybe, with Alastor by your side, you could find a way to live with the past and the unjust fate that had brought you here.

Vox aka HEAD OF VOX TECH

You had never really understood why you were condemned to Hell. Unlike the many souls writhing in the pit, you didn’t have a string of atrocities trailing behind you. You didn’t murder, cheat, or betray. In fact, in your mortal life, you were known for being kind, caring, and overly cautious. And yet, here you were, suffering in Hell without a clue as to what had brought you here.

At first, you tried to remember, to piece together what might have happened, but every time you searched your memories, you came up empty. The only thing that ever came to mind was a stupid, childish incident—one that surely couldn’t be the reason for your damnation.

You’d been about eight years old, with a love for all things small and furry. That’s when you got your first pet, a little hamster you named Buttons. You adored Buttons, carrying him around in your hands, giving him treats, and petting his soft fur. But one day, while playing, you squeezed him a little too hard. You hadn’t meant to. You were just a child, after all, but that didn’t change what happened. Buttons stopped moving, his little body going limp in your hands. You cried for hours, not understanding what you had done, only knowing that your beloved pet was gone and that you were to blame.

You’d buried the memory, convincing yourself it was just a mistake, a tragic accident that any child might have made. But here, in Hell, it was the only thing you could think of. Could that really be it? Could you really have been damned for something so small, so innocent?

It was a thought that haunted you, gnawed at your insides until you couldn’t take it anymore. You found yourself wandering through the dark, twisted corridors of Hell, your mind lost in a storm of guilt and confusion. That’s when you felt it—eyes on you, watching, observing. You didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.

Vox had taken an interest in you almost immediately after your arrival in Hell. It wasn’t unusual for him to be intrigued by someone new, but there was something about you that kept pulling him back. You were different from the others—gentle, kind, and most of all, innocent. That kind of innocence was a rare commodity in Hell, and Vox was drawn to it like a moth to a flame.

“Lost in thought again, aren’t we?” Vox’s voice crackled through the air, distorted slightly by the static that always seemed to surround him.

You froze, your heart skipping a beat at the sound of his voice. It wasn’t that you were afraid of him, exactly, but Vox was intimidating in a way that words couldn’t quite capture. He was larger than life, a presence that seemed to fill the room, even when he wasn’t physically there.

“I…” you started, your voice trembling slightly as you turned to face him. “I just can’t stop thinking about it. About why I’m here. I can’t remember doing anything that would deserve… this.”

Vox’s neon-lit face twisted into a smirk, though there was something darker lurking behind his glowing eyes. He tilted his head, his massive form leaning casually against a nearby wall as he continued to watch you. “You’re in Hell, darling. Everyone’s here for a reason.”

You swallowed hard, your mind racing as you tried to find the words to explain. “But that’s just it. I don’t have a reason. At least, not one that makes sense. The only thing I can think of… it’s ridiculous.”

Vox’s eyes narrowed slightly, his curiosity piqued. “Oh? Do tell. I’m all ears.”

You hesitated, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment as you forced yourself to speak. “When I was a kid… I had a hamster. I didn’t mean to hurt him, but I squeezed him too hard, and… and he died.” Your voice cracked as the memory resurfaced, filling you with a wave of guilt and shame. “That’s the only thing I can think of. I was just a kid, but what if that’s why I’m here? What if that’s what sent me to Hell?”

For a moment, Vox was silent, his glowing eyes fixed on you as if he were trying to process what you’d just said. Then, he let out a harsh, distorted laugh, his voice crackling with a mix of amusement and anger. “That’s it? That’s what you think got you sent to Hell? A childhood mistake? You’ve got to be kidding me.”

You flinched at his laughter, feeling small and foolish under his gaze. “I know it sounds stupid,” you mumbled, looking down at the ground. “But I can’t think of anything else. Maybe Heaven saw it as some kind of cruelty or—”

“Bullshit,” Vox cut you off, his voice sharp and electric. He pushed off the wall, striding over to you with an intensity that made your heart race. “That’s not cruelty. That’s a mistake. A kid not knowing any better. If that’s really why you’re here, then Heaven is more fucked up than I thought.”

You looked up at him, surprise flickering in your eyes. You’d never heard him speak like this before—so angry, so protective. “But… what if that’s all it takes?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper. “What if that’s enough to damn someone?”

Vox’s eyes blazed with a fierce light, his hand reaching out to grab your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. “Listen to me, sweetheart,” he growled, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. “You don’t belong here. You’re not like the rest of these damned souls. You’re… different. Innocent. And if some bullshit technicality is what sent you here, then Heaven’s got a lot to answer for.”

You stared up at him, your heart pounding in your chest as his words sank in. He was right—deep down, you knew he was right. You didn’t belong in Hell. But the guilt, the overwhelming sense of responsibility for that long-ago mistake, was hard to shake.

“I don’t know what to do,” you admitted, your voice trembling. “I can’t change the past, and I can’t go back. I’m stuck here, no matter what.”

Vox’s grip on your chin softened, his thumb brushing lightly over your cheek. “Maybe you can’t go back, but that doesn’t mean you have to suffer for it. You’re in Hell, yeah, but that doesn’t mean you have to be miserable. You’ve got me, don’t you?” His voice dropped to a lower, almost seductive tone as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear. “I’ll take care of you, sweetheart. I’ll make sure this place doesn’t break you.”

A shiver ran down your spine at his words, his proximity making your head spin. Despite the fearsome reputation he had, there was something about the way he spoke, the way he looked at you, that made you feel… safe. Like he really meant it when he said he would protect you.

“But what about Heaven?” you asked, your voice small and unsure. “What if they’re watching? What if they… try to punish me again?”

Vox’s eyes flashed with anger, his grip on you tightening slightly. “Let them try,” he hissed, his voice dripping with venom. “I’d like to see them come down here and explain themselves. If Heaven wants to play dirty, they’ll have to go through me first.”

You stared at him, stunned by the intensity of his words. No one had ever stood up for you like this before, especially not against something as powerful as Heaven itself. It was overwhelming, and yet… comforting. Maybe you couldn’t change the past, but with Vox by your side, maybe you could find a way to live with it.

Slowly, you nodded, a small, tentative smile forming on your lips. “Thank you, Vox. I… I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Vox’s expression softened, his hand moving to cup your cheek as he leaned in, his lips brushing against your forehead in a surprisingly tender gesture. “You don’t have to worry about that, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing. “I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me now.”

As you closed your eyes, leaning into his touch, you felt a sense of relief wash over you. The guilt was still there, but it was tempered by the knowledge that you weren’t alone. Vox was with you, and he was determined to protect you, no matter what. Maybe Hell wasn’t where you belonged, but as long as you had him by your side, you knew you’d find a way to make it through.

Lucifer aka THE KING OF HELL

You sat in Lucifer’s grand office, your fingers anxiously twisting in your lap as your thoughts swirled in confusion. You had been in Hell for a while now, and yet the reason for your damnation still eluded you. It was maddening, and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t pinpoint the sin that had condemned you to this fiery realm.

Lucifer watched you closely from behind his lavish desk, his sharp eyes catching every slight movement you made. He had always found you to be an enigma—so sweet, so innocent, and yet, here you were in the depths of Hell. It didn’t make sense, and that bothered him more than he cared to admit.

“Love,” Lucifer’s voice was smooth, like silk brushing against your skin, “I can practically hear the gears turning in that pretty head of yours. What troubles you so?”

You glanced up at him, your eyes reflecting the turmoil within. “I just don’t understand, Lucifer. I’ve been thinking and thinking, and I still can’t figure out what I did to end up here. It’s like… it doesn’t add up.”

Lucifer leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers as he studied you. “Not all sins are remembered easily,” he mused, his tone contemplative. “Some are buried deep within, forgotten or dismissed, but still weighed heavily by those who pass judgment.”

“But that’s just it,” you insisted, your voice trembling slightly. “I’ve searched through every memory, every mistake, and nothing seems big enough, bad enough, to have damned me. I was never… evil. At least, I don’t think I was.”

A slight frown tugged at Lucifer’s lips, a rare expression of displeasure crossing his usually calm demeanor. “Tell me, my love, what are the memories that you have found? The ones you believe to be insignificant?”

You hesitated, biting your lip as you gathered the courage to speak. “There’s this one thing… I was just a kid. I didn’t know any better. I had a best friend, and we were inseparable. But one day, I got jealous—stupid, childish jealousy—and I told a lie that got them in trouble. They were punished for something they didn’t do, and I never confessed. I was too scared.”

Lucifer’s gaze softened slightly as he listened, though his eyes gleamed with something darker—resentment, perhaps, but not directed at you. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk as he fixed you with an intense stare. “And you believe that is the reason you’re here? A child’s lie?”

You nodded slowly, your heart heavy with guilt. “I know it doesn’t seem like much, but… what if that’s it? What if that’s the one thing that damned me?”

A low chuckle escaped Lucifer, his voice rich with amusement, though there was an underlying edge to it. “My love, if Heaven condemns souls to Hell for such trivialities, then they are more twisted than even I had thought.” His smile turned cold, a bitterness seeping into his tone. “It seems they are as quick to punish as they are to pretend their hands are clean.”

You looked at him, confusion and a flicker of hope warring within you. “But… what if they’re right? What if that lie was enough?”

Lucifer stood, his presence towering over you as he moved around the desk to stand by your side. He reached out, gently lifting your chin so that you were forced to look up at him. His touch was surprisingly tender, a stark contrast to the power and authority he radiated.

“They are not right,” he said firmly, his eyes boring into yours. “You were a child. A child who made a mistake. That is not evil, nor is it worthy of damnation. You do not belong here for something so minor, so human.”

His words washed over you like a balm, easing the knot of anxiety that had taken root in your chest. “Then why am I here?” you whispered, your voice filled with desperation. “What could I have done?”

Lucifer’s expression softened, and he let out a sigh, his hand moving to cup your cheek. “The truth, my love, is that sometimes the reasons for being here are not fair. Sometimes, they are born of Heaven’s need to appear just, even when they are far from it. You may be here because of a mistake, but that does not mean you deserve to suffer.”

You leaned into his touch, finding comfort in his words, even as they stirred a deep sadness within you. “It doesn’t feel fair,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “I feel like I’ve been punished for something I didn’t even understand.”

Lucifer’s eyes flashed with anger, though it was clear his ire was not directed at you. “It is not fair,” he agreed, his tone laced with resentment. “Heaven is quick to cast out those who do not fit their mold, regardless of whether they deserve it. They hide behind their righteousness, but in truth, they are no less flawed than the souls they condemn.”

You looked up at him, your heart aching at the pain and anger in his voice. “You… you sound like you’ve experienced this before. Like you’ve seen how unfair it can be.”

Lucifer’s gaze darkened, his lips curling into a bitter smile. “I have seen it many times, love. More than you can imagine. Heaven is not the paradise they would have you believe. It is a place of judgment, of exclusion, and for those who do not conform, it is a place of damnation.”

He paused, his hand moving to cradle the back of your head as he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your skin. “But you do not have to face this alone. You have me, and I will ensure that Hell is not the torment they intended for you. You will find peace here, with me.”

Your breath hitched as his words sunk in, the weight of your situation lightening just a little under his promise. “Thank you, Lucifer,” you murmured, your voice trembling with emotion. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Lucifer’s expression softened further, and for a moment, the cold, calculating ruler of Hell was replaced by someone almost… human. “You will never have to find out,” he whispered, his voice tender as he closed the distance between you, his lips brushing gently against yours.

The kiss was soft, almost hesitant, as if he were afraid of breaking you with the intensity of his emotions. But there was a warmth there, a reassurance that you weren’t alone, that you were safe with him. As he pulled back, his eyes met yours, and you could see the depth of his feelings—his resentment toward Heaven, his protectiveness over you, and something else, something deeper that he kept hidden behind his regal facade.

“Rest now, my love,” Lucifer murmured, his hand lingering on your cheek as he straightened up. “You have been through enough. Let me shoulder the burden of your past. You belong here with me, and I will not allow Heaven’s judgment to take you from me.”

You nodded, a sense of calm settling over you as you allowed yourself to trust in his words. For the first time since you arrived in Hell, you felt like you weren’t alone, like you had someone who truly understood the injustice of your situation. And as you looked up at Lucifer, you knew that, despite everything, you were exactly where you were meant to be.

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poppadom0912 · 1 year ago

Text

A Prom Mess

Warnings: Shootings, blood, injuries, scared high schoolers

Summary: Prom didn't go according to plan.

A/N: This has been collecting too much dust in my drafts and so I thoughts I'd spoil you all. It's my birthday today so take this as my treat for you all. <3

Sticking your tongue out, you moved your curler back from your head, inspecting the curl in the mirror. Proud of it, you let it hang by your temple, moving around to turn off all the plugs, shoving bits of make up into a drawer.

Standing up, shoulders out, you dusted off imaginary lint from the prom dress that fit you like a glove.

It felt like all your childhood dreams were coming true, you were also somehow allowed to have a date which you might have blackmailed your brothers in allowing you to have one but you don't talk about that.

"Look at you." Jay whistled once you entered the living room. "Our baby sisters all grown up now." He elbowed Will in the gut causing him to jerk away.

Scowling at Jay, Will complimented you. "You look beautiful kid." He paused as he looked for his hospital ID. "Do a spin?"

You begrudgingly complied, spinning once to show off your dress entirely, blushing at the whistles, whoops, claps and compliments your brothers threw your way. They were acting as if they weren't there with you and Hailey when you went dress shopping.

Downing his coffee, Will would've loved to see your date before you left but he was working the night shift.

"Alright, be good, don't do drugs and call Jay if anything happens okay?" He wrapped an arm around your shoulder for a one armed hug, pressing a kiss into your hair before he was dashing out the door. "Have fun!"

Waving him goodbye, you turned to Jay who was staring at you with an emotion not many saw. If you squinted hard enough, you would've thought he was tearing up. "What's up?"

Jay shook his head, completely deflecting your question as he stood, setting down his beer. He held up his phone knowingly with a smirk, relishing in the groan you let out.

"Do we have to do pictures?" You looked at your brother, pleading for him not to. Your brother taking your pictures was slightly embarrassing, you'd provide him with the plenty you'd take all night.

"Everyone wants to see how you look." Jay indirectly mentioned his co-workers. "They're all very invested."

And he wasn't lying. Everyone at Intelligence and Med had seen you grow over the years, your final year at high school was a big thing for everyone.

You scoffed but smiled anyways trying not to look too awkward standing alone when he started snapping pictures but was stopped by the doorbell.

Your saviour was here but before he could whisk you away, he'd be involved in a very productive 'conversation' with Jay.

Jay beat you to the door, swinging it open and intensely glared at the smartly dressed boy who immediately shrunk under his gaze.

Fifteen minutes later and you were finally out the door. Pushing your date into the hallway, scowling at Jay who was very much proud of himself, forcing out a nice goodbye before you were off the the school.

*****

You straight up refused the alcohol. No matter how much your friends tried, you were up to everything but drinking. Your brothers would kill you if they had even an inkling that you touched alcohol.

Your date had long gone, staying long enough for the cute pictures before he admitted he would've preferred spending the night with his friends. Surprisingly, you couldn't care less and found yourself swept away in the 'glamours' of prom.

You and your best friend danced arm in arm and then messed around as a group, jumping ridiculously in heels and nibbling on the room temperature finger foods.

The ridiculously large crowd on the dance floor slowly started dispersing, everyone having their fill of loudly singing songs that everyone knew off by heart.

Just as you were going to make a quick detour to the bathroom to fix yourself, a familiar sound rang out in the large sports hall. The reactions were instant.

Everyone screamed and it almost drowned out the gunshots, that's how loud people were. In a flurry of movement, you grabbed your best friend who clutched tightly onto you and ran towards the exit everyone was heading to.

Running in heels was definitely not ideal but that didn't matter right now. Everyone was in a rush to get out unharmed and all in one piece.

There were so many of you that stumbling and people tripping was assured to happen and so they did. The occasional girl tripped on her dress, some catching themselves in time while others didn't. A part of you wanted to help but being stuck in this crowd, the only way was forward.

The shots continued on and they only got louder despite running away. You felt your heart lurching out you throat as it all sunk in; there was a shooting while at prom.

All of a sudden, you felt a hand grasp the back of your dress and within seconds you were falling onto the floor with someone on your back.

Trying to ignore the sharp pain in your ankle, you turned to look at the struggling girl you recognised from your chemistry class and the blood dripping down her temple made you swallow harshly.

"Harlow, come on." You tried sitting up on your knees, pulling her up from around her waist. "Hurry up, come on."

Clutching onto each others waist, you both fell to the back of the crowd. Harlow was getting drowsier as time went on and you were struggling more to support her weight against your own and the gunshots still weren't stopping.

For a split second, you let yourself think that this could be it. A night that was meant to be for celebration and saying goodbye had turned incredibly sour and at this rate, would be a day everyone would want to forget.

Wincing at the sharp pain in your ankle, you cursed your stupid heels and were ready to stop against the wall when the weight against your body decreased massively.

Snapping your head up, you were ready to do anything really but stopped yourself when you were met with a frazzled boy in a no longer neat tux that you recognised from the football team.

He nodded wordlessly and the three of you walked forward, watching with a pit in your stomach as the crowd ahead got smaller and smaller.

Gosh, your best friend had your phone in her purse. You couldn't even call Jay.

And the rest of the long corridor, that became nothing but a blur.

*****

Jay couldn't breathe.

One second, he was finishing paperwork that he forgot to do at work when his phone rang. He rolled his eyes, annoyed that he couldn't have one night off but that all changed when he heard exactly what happened.

Jay had never moved so fast before.

He could barely hear himself think over his sirens. He called you repeatedly but it went to voicemail every single time and dread began overflowing his systems. He couldn't let himself think like that, he refused.

The school was a warzone.

Somehow, he was one of the firsts to arrive and a fire caught inside his chest. His sirens and lights caught all their attention, hundreds of heads turning and staring with such desperation that Jay felt the ground crumbling underneath him.

He had to be a professional now. These kids needed him to do his job and he'd be damned if he let them down when they were all his sisters age.

Jay shouted, directing everyone away from the school, further away from danger. As loud as he could, he shouted instructions, pointing where the non-injured, injured and heavily injured should go; that should make it easier for the paramedics whenever they arrived.

As he continued to make his way through the crowd, repeating the same instructions again and again, he faintly heard Adam and Kevin shouting as loud as him and not too far behind, he could hear Boden direct his team.

With a little less pressure weighing him down, Jay swerved through the crowd, his eyes searching desperately for the shimmering pastel dress you wore but the more he looked and the more he walked, he was left with nothing.

Jay's heart was thundering out his chest know, probably heard by all neighbouring cities. His fear skyrocketed to such a height that he never knew existed.

Even without his bulletproof vest on, Jay was ready to storm the school in search of you. He needed to know, he needed to find you because what was he going to tell Will or what about the promise he made to his mum when she-

"Jay!"

The detective whipped around so fast it was almost inhumane. He looked around for anyone he could recognise before stopping at the running figure of your best friend.

She looked relatively alright. Her hair was a mess, a few marks ruining her dress and dirt collecting at the bottom as it dragged but her eyes were frantic and red and in her hands were her purse and your phone. He could recognise that case anywhere, it had been sitting in his draw for a month before gifting it on your birthday.

No no no no

"Mr Halstead?" Jay flinched at the words, hating how he was called what his dad was. No matter how many times the school called him, he'd never get used to it.

"Sorry- Detective Halstead." The boy immediately apologised, his eyes brightening despite the hellscape that surrounded him and the dark sky.

The boy couldn't find any words, his eyes dimming as fast as they were lit. Jay turned his back to your best friend who had no words for him, his eyes zeroing in on the blood droplets on the boys white shirt, his blazer nowhere to be seen.

Suddenly, the boy was holding Jay's forearm and dragging him in a different direction. If he wasn't so concerned, he would've been impressed with how strong the boy was.

Several twists and turns later, Jay was finally able to breathe again, oxygen rushing through his veins as the world around him faded away and became nothing but white noise.

"Jay!"

You cried out, tears spilling the second you lay eyes on your older brother. He was disheveled but any outsider would say Jay looked perfect, nothing out of place. You knew your brother though and the fear swallowing him was something you never wanted to see again.

"Thank goodness." Jay mumbled, rushing forward and enveloping you in his arms. Being in his embrace only made you cry more, your hands curling and gripping his shirt so tight your nails hurt.

Jay's nose dipped into your hair, inhaling your familiar scent and placing several kisses to comfort you or himself, you didn't know but you also didn't care.

"Are you guys okay?" Jay got a grip of himself, forcing himself to pull away and look at the mini group surrounding him now. With an arm still around you, he inspected you and the girl sitting besides you and the several other teenagers that looked at him as though he hung the stars in the sky.

Gosh, Jay would never get rid of that sight from his memory. The fear painting your eyes in bold, looking for a saviour with such hope all eighteen year olds became innocent toddlers.

"My heads banging."

"My ankle's done for."

"I've got a few scratches."

"My hands bleeding."

"My arms bleeding I think."

"I think I'm good."

"I don't know."

"My leg hurts real bad."

Several voices overlapped as they all responded to him, their eyes still wide. They all looked so childlike Jay's heart clenched.

"Alright, it's going to be okay. I've got you all, I promise."

They held onto his promise like it was their lifeline and they were all drowning. Their grips so tight is was suffocating.

*****

Will was almost on autopilot. He wasn’t too sure how he hadn’t gone completely mad at this rate.

The ED was swarmed as it usually was following a mass shooting and no matter how many there were in Chicago, you could never really become accustomed to the chaos of it all.

Will wanted it to be a coincidence that several new adults were being wheeled in all fancily dressed up, he so badly wished that other proms were happening at the same time as yours but his fears came true when he recognised your best friend walking in beside a paramedic by her side.

The ED was overwhelmed beyond possibility that Will wasn’t given the chance to call Jay to at least get a hint at what was going down. One of the biggest reliefs was seeing no one heavily wounded, no one was bleeding out to death.

He’d been handing over a patient upstairs to make some more room when he heard his name being called and his hate rate instantly spiked. Turning around as fast as he could, Will wasn’t too sure how to feel when he finally set eyes on you.

Relief was short lived as he caught sight of the blooding dripping down your arm and how heavily you relied on Jay to help you walk, you were hobbling in your heels and several worn out classmates were at your side and following behind.

“Will, I’ve got no room.” Maggie solemnly told the doctor, her face and tone telling what Will already knew.

“It’s all good, follow me guys.” Will gestured for the group to follow him through the ED, pointing them in the correct direction and helping the others walk.

Moving out the ED but then moving into a slightly less packed corridor, Will apologetically asked for them to sit down on the few beds they managed to fit and the chairs they had on standby. The situation wasn’t ideal but they’d done it plenty times before and it worked perfectly.

Before he could ask, April and Doris were following right behind them, arms filled with equipment. With barely any words shared, the three of them got to work tending to the group you walked in with.

Will came to you first and with Maggie’s permission curtesy of a stressed-out Goodwin, he’d been allowed to treat you. With gentle hands, Will surveyed the cut on your arm, asking you all the questions part of protocol. You were semi-delirious because you snorted at your brothers professional side that came out automatically without much thought or effort.

Upon hearing you complain about your ankle, Will crouched down to the floor, and prodded your foot, his touch as light as a feather, hands withdrawing when you whimpered in pain.

Trying to push his brotherly smothering aside, Will continued to remain as professional as he could, cleaning up the bullet graze on your arm, delicately placing on butterfly strips and covering it wholly.

“I’ll send you up for an x-ray but it’s going to take a while.” Will didn’t need to explain why, it was pretty obvious. “Just sit tight for me but I’ll get you some painkillers for the meantime, that sound good?”

You hummed, smiling up at your oldest brother who was now standing up. You hadn’t seen yourself but you knew you looked like a mess, a total 180 from the immaculate state you left earlier tonight.

“You’ll be okay kiddo.” Will said, knowing he’d get a smile out of you, fingers carding through the knots in your hair, pressing it all back before kissing you on your forehead. You weren’t too sure who he was comforting, you or himself.

“Shout if you need me.” Will told both you and Jay before moving onto the next person who just so happened to be Harlow. If it wasn’t for your pain muddled brain, you would’ve turned to watch how she was doing.

The silence that followed Will’s departure wasn’t really silence when there was incessant beeping, people conversing loudly and quietly, ambulance sirens coming and going and the occasional person expressing their pain. It was all so stimulating you couldn’t understand how Will did this for a living.

“My head hurts.” You mumbled a complaint, rubbing your temple to somehow ease your headache. Closing your eyes, you let yourself fall into Jay’s side, sighing in relief as his arms wrapped around your body and holding you close.

“I know, I’m sorry.” Jay could only provide you comfort, keeping you as close to him as possible for as long as he was allowed. “I’m sorry your prom was a mess.”

You hummed; eyes still closed. “It’s okay, at least we won’t forget it.”

Jay didn’t laugh at your joke, even when you snorted.

Right, this was going to take a awhile to get over

#one chicago x reader #one chicago imagine #onechicago #jay halstead x reader #chicago med #chicago pd #one chicago fic #jay halstead x sister!reader #will halstead x reader #will halstead x sister!reader #halstead sister #halstead brothers

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cherryhoneybabe · 18 days ago

Text

new beginnings, old memories

female oc x rafe cameron

welcome to my first rafe fic on this blog! i prefer writing with actual characters as opposed to x reader idk i find it more natural to write. enjoy!

warnings - drug use, smoking, swearing (obv), underage drinking,

introducing evie austen - sarah’s best friend from childhood who moved away for undisclosed reasons. now she’s back in the obx to rekindle old friendships and relax but a certain best friend’s brother just can’t keep his hands to himself…

“sarah!” evie yelped, squeezing the blonde girl in the tightest, rib crushing hug of all time. “i missed you eves,” sarah admitted, warming into the embrace. evie hadn’t been back to the outer banks since she was fourteen, when her parents decided to relocate to new york and send their so-called troublesome daughter to the most elite boarding school in the city, hoping to straighten her out. now, four years later evie is back, and the first thing she needs is some good, quality time with her best friend.

“so how was new york?” sarah questioned.

“fun as always, you know the drill,” evie replied with a sarcastic grin creeping over her face. “but i’m glad to be back. i missed all of this, we have so much to catch up on!”

“what better way to welcome you back than a party? one of topper’s friends is throwing a get-together this friday, be there or else,” sarah laughed, pushing the older girl’s arm slightly.

so, that friday evie snuck out of her parent’s mansion, carefully tiptoeing down the stairs in her worn converse, black tank top paired with a denim mini skirt. casual, not too over the top. she didn’t want to draw more attention than necessary to herself, not after what happened last time.

nestling a six-pack of coors light under her arm, evie walked up to the address sarah had given her, pushing the front door open and slipping in to the swing of the party. the bass was thumping and the open plan house was filled with drunk teenagers conversing, flirting and more than likely, disappointing their parents. as evie took a breath, the musky aroma of weed and cheap beer filled her senses, eliciting a welcoming smile on her face. it felt good to be home.

venturing further into the house, evie soon spotted sarah pouring herself a cup of some fruity elixir, joined by some of her friends, most of whom evie hadn’t seen since she was fourteen. it wasn’t that she didn’t like sarah’s other friends, but they just didn’t get her like sarah did. sarah was like family, evie’s rock when things went south. and when evie was forced to leave all she ever knew behind, sarah was the person she regretted leaving the most. but that didn't matter now; evie was here to stay, and she would never let anything steal her friend away again, she just had to be more…careful.

evie greeted sarah with yet another hug (she would give her a million hugs just to make up for lost time), and offered a small smile to the other girls that surrounded sarah. she recognised one of the girls, tiana, from her high school gym class. a bitchy, drama craving kook who was as fake as the id evie had bought her beers with at the grocery store hours earlier.

“so evie,” tiana began, a ruthless grin appearing on her face.

“tiana. pleasure to see you as always, how you doin’?” evie remarked.

“hmm. yeah,” the dark haired girl answered. “how was juvie? heard it’s pretty rough up there in the big city for girls like you,”

“eat shit tiana. you’re eighteen now, you might want to act like it.” evie was fed up already, already realising that in the time she’d been gone, nothing much had really changed, and she wasn’t sure if she was ready to face her past. “sarah, i’ll catch you later, i’m heading out for a smoke,”

the brunette navigated her way through the sweaty bodies, the floor sticky from the residue of spilled beer pong cups, her converse sticking to the oak paneled floors. reaching the secluded patio, she perched on the edge of a lounge chair, and lit a cigarette. evie breathed in the smoke, staring out onto the horizon, the sun gently dipping below it. the thumping bass had now faded to a distant background noise. it was peaceful. almost too peaceful.

“well, look who we have here,” evie whipped her head round, fast as lightning to come face to face with none other than rafe. fucking. cameron.

you might think, that with sarah being her best friend, and rafe being sarah’s brother that the two would be friends. or at least tolerate each other. maybe even have a crush on one another? yeah, that wasn’t the case. evie despised rafe; his stupid cocky grin, his snide remarks, the fact he was always lurking whenever she would hang out at tannyhill. but she despised him most of all because he was the one who got her sent to the hellhole of a dungeon she knew as boarding school.

see, around four years ago evie realised she wasn’t really like the rest of her friends. they had picture perfect lives; imagine loved-up parents, home cooked meals every night, family board game nights. evie’s parents weren’t like that. their coldness towards their only daughter was abnormal to say the least, evie was sure they loved work more than her. at least her mother had time for work. so, as any angsty, riled up teenager would do, evie found other distractions to numb away the pain of her parent’s emotional neglect. she quickly realised that getting high made her feel good, and she would do anything to just be able to slip away from her suffocating home environment. it started with smoking a joint with some older kooks at parties. then, she got a weed pen for her own personal use. when the weed stopped drowning out her sadness, that’s when she discovered her first love: a sweet, fat bump of colombian cocaine. it made her feel like she was finally in control of her own life, she really could write the next chapter if she wanted to, and not give a fuck what her parents think. for the first time in evie’s miserable life, she was finally happy.

every time evie would visit sarah’s house to hang out with her best friend, she would always find a way to sneak away to rafe’s bedroom. there, she would trade bills for a small baggie of her favourite, sugar sweet crystalline goodness. the transactions between her and rafe were silent, sometimes evie would mutter a “thanks” after the deal was done, but for the most part it was a silent affair. rafe never told his sister, why would he? after all, he was being paid so it wasn’t the best idea for him to snitch. the mutually beneficial relationship between the pair was successful for months, that is until rafe betrayed her.

“rafe. what a pleasure it is to be blessed with your company on this fine evening,” evie sneered, baring her teeth like a vicious hound waiting to be released for the kill. she did feel like killing rafe sometimes.

“long time no see, austen. you know, i lost my best customer when you moved hundreds of miles away,” the blonde boy smirked, a strand of his hair falling in front of his eye as he leaned down to face evie.

“do you actually have anything relevant to say, or are you just here to be a waste of my time, rafe?” the brunette retorted, taking one last puff of her cigarette before discarding it on the ground, crushing it under the heel of her shoe.

“actually,i was wondering if you were buying tonight. seeing as you seem to have ditched my sister and her friends to come and sit out here by yourself.”

“nah, i’m, uh, three months clean actually,” evie responded dejectedly.

“really? because i've got some new shit and i reckon you’d love it. first line’s on me,”

evie took a deep breath. willpower was never her strongest suit. surely one line wouldn't harm. what did the counsellor at her boarding school say? relapse is the road to recovery or some shit like that. although she couldn’t stand to be around rafe, he was right. he did have good coke, and when he wasn’t speaking, he was actually quite pleasant to look at. evie might even say he was the hottest boy on the island, but of course she would never tell him that.

“okay. i’ll do a line. but i’m not buying anything.” she narrowed her eyes at rafe.

“that’s my girl”, rafe smiled, extending his hand. evie scoffed, sitting up from her perch on the lounge chair, but neglecting to take the tall boy’s hand.

she followed rafe until they arrived at a bedroom on the top floor of the house, then ventured over to the balcony which overlooked the pool. the party was now in full swing, and evie was starting to develop a headache. rafe began to set the narcotic up on the small table conveniently located on the balcony; two white lines stared back at evie.

“ladies first,” rafe said.

evie gulped, leaning forward, the tip of her nose barely touching the cold plastic of the table. she blocked one nostril, using the other to inhale the white powder.

she leaned back, sniffed until she felt the drug reach the back of her throat, then wiped her nose with the back of her hand. rafe mimicked her movements, both lines had now disappeared from the table, coursing through the pair’s bloodstream, exerting its euphoria on both teenagers.

“good shit huh? rafe teased.

evie nodded, turning sharply on her heels to leave, when rafe grabbed her by the wrist, spinning her back to face him.

“what the hell happened to you in new york, austen? you’ve been back for how long, a week, and you’re more of a bitch than you were before you left. what have i done to piss off kook queen evie?” rafe spoke, his voice raised as he questioned the girl, his face now dangerously close to hers despite the obvious height difference.

“rafe just leave it. i’m not in the mood to talk,” evie sighed, trying to pull her wrist away from the blonde boy’s fixed grip to avail.

“because you're scared of me?”

“i'm not scared of you cameron,” evie shot back.

“then why is your heart beating so fast it's almost flying out of that pretty little tank top of yours? hmm?”

evie was silent, meeting rafe’s eyes with a forlorn stare. she suddenly noticed how close the older boy was to her, his eyes filled with a burning desperation, his whole body trapping her between the door to the balcony, the grip on her wrist still firm. after what felt like an eternity, rafe leaned closer, his lips barely brushing hers. evie was sure she could feel static coursing between her and rafe, the tension was thick in the air, she silently begged him to do something, anything. it felt like her prayers had been answered when the blonde boy finally pressed his lips firmly against hers, sealing the deal. evie could feel electricity surging through her veins and she wasn't sure if it was from her previous drug use, or the fact that rafe cameron was kissing her.

so that's my first ever written work on this account! tysm for reading, i hope you all enjoyed. part 2 is now up! part 2

divider is by @adornedwithlight

#rafe obx #rafe cameron #rafe outer banks #rafe x reader smut #outerbanks rafe #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x oc #outer banks #obx fic #obx

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