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idciminlove · 1 year ago

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Mauga NSFW alphabet

Maugaloa Malosi x GN!Reader

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

Very caring, especially if he was rough with you. Some nights he will press a damp cloth between your legs, others he’ll run you a bath. He definitely cuddles after too. (He’s the big spoon obviously)

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Yours: I see him as an ass man but tbh I don’t think he has a big preference. Tits, ass, thighs, it doesn’t matter. As long as he has something to hold on to.

His: His chest..for obvious reasons lmao

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Comes thick heavy loads and he loves to come inside. Filling you up and fucking you full of his seed makes him feel closer to you, like you are bonded together. It’s like he’s marking you as his. So when he pulls out, he’ll make sure to push his cum back in, making you whimper in sensitivity.

Coming down your throat is a close second for sure, though. Loves seeing you all teary eyed, gazing up at him as you swallow whatever you can. Seeing you all submissive like that is such a pretty sight.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

I feel like he’d be an open book tbh- so none?

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He definitely knows what he’s doing. With his “living every day like it’s his last” mentality and low impulse control, I feel like he would fuck often. Prob would mainly have one night stands, but he doesn’t care. He sees something he wants, he takes it.

Also “Let’s go break some hearts!” Def has a double meaning to it and that’s all the proof I need

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

You on top (aka Cowgirl)- It’s much easier with you on top, especially considering how fucking big this man is, but that doesn’t mean you have control. Not at all. He’ll have his hands on your hips, moving you at whatever pace he wants, bouncing you on him. He also appreciates the view of you up close, right in his lap.

Full Nelson- He loves manhandling..and if that includes folding you like a lawnchair then so be it

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

In his own way, yeah. He’d probably make jokes that only he finds funny in his sadistic mind, like seeing you struggle from how good and overwhelmed he’s making you feel.

Maybe if you’re nervous he’ll make a joke or two, just to get you to relax.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Somewhat groomed..he rlly only does trims when it gets too long, but there’s always a patch of black hair down there lol

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Def depends on your relationship with him. If it’s a one night stand, then little to none. Maybe a kiss here or there, but it’s more heated than intimate, all tongue and teeth.

It’s not until you’ve been dating him for a while, and you get his walls to come down and get him to trust and love you that he gets really intimate. He slows down a bit more, looks you in the eyes..not just to see your expression but to see you…all of you. And he kisses and holds onto you like he never wants to let go. Like if he does, you’ll slip through his fingers and disappear. Will whisper affections into your ear and against your lips and neck with every slow roll of his hips.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Again, it depends on your relationship with him. If you’re dating, maybe once in a while, like if he’s away on a long mission. He’ll probably either do it while calling you so he can hear your voice, or he’ll send a video, calling you a tease and telling you how much he misses you. And if he can’t get through to you then, he’ll do it the old fashioned way..but he won’t be happy about it lmfao

If you’re not in a relationship with him…but he’s planning on getting you or trying to get in your pants, much more often. Will definitely fantasize about you often and all the nasty things he wants to do you. And if you don’t pay him attention/play hard to get or whatever, he’ll definitely want you much more. After all, he loves the chase.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Size Kink- Loves that you’re smaller than him, seeing the size difference in your hands and bodies always gets him going, especially when you struggle to take him, no matter how much he’s stretched you out before.

Praise/Degradation- He does both- but his degrading isn’t all insults and stuff, more like talking to you in that condescending tone and teasing you- and for praise he’ll tell you how good you are for him and how pretty you are…whatever gets more of a reaction from you.

Overstimulation/Dumbification- Loves when you’re all fucked out and dumb on his cock, crying and writhing, hardly any thoughts left in your head except for how good he’s making you feel.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Basically anywhere, the man does not give a fuck. He will fuck you anytime anywhere: at your place, at his, in a cabana at the beach (it’s not his cabana), and even in one of the storage closets on Talon’s base.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Lots of stuff..it could be the smallest thing, like if you look at him a certain way, or accidentally brush against him, but he loves to piss you off. He thinks you’re sexy when you’re angry, and he sometimes he gets you mad on purpose because he enjoys seeing you like that, and he can fuck the attitude right out of you

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

While Mauga is a strong willed and stubborn person, he definitely wouldn’t do anything you’re uncomfortable with. The moment you tell him to stop or say no, he’ll stop. He respects you and your boundaries.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He’s a giver for sure. It doesn’t matter what size you are, big, small or in between, he will have you sit on his face..and put ALL of your weight on him lmfao. He’s nasty and messy, but he’s amazing at giving head. It always leaves your legs shaky, especially since he probably won’t let you go until you’ve come on his face at least twice.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Def on the faster/rougher side but there might be some nights when he’s slow and passionate, if he’s feeling really romantic, or if you ask him nicely.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He doesn’t mind them, even though he prefers to draw things out. But if it’s an opportunity to get physical with you, he’ll go for it. (He def does them when he’s about to leave for a mission, fucking you five minutes before he has to get to the hangar)

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Mauga loves adrenaline and risky stuff, so absolutely. Will do whatever you want and/or are up for.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He has lots of stamina, especially after his heart transplants. He will either go until you can’t take anymore or until he’s satisfied.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Probably has a few, which are mainly for you. He uses them occasionally, but mostly prefers skin to skin contact.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He loves to tease. Will edge you for hours before he finally gives you release. He’ll also taunt and mock you in the midst of it.

“Awww is it too much for my poor baby? Too bad.”

“You wanna cum so bad, don’t you? I can see you cryin for it. Be good and I’ll give it to you…eventually.”

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He’s a pretty loud guy, not too loud, but loud enough to piss off your neighbors. Mainly growls, grunts, and groans. No whimpers..sorry :(

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

He’s a biter, especially with those sharp ass teeth of his. He loves to cover you with hickeys and bites, from your throat to the crook of your shoulder. He’ll complain whenever you try to cover them up, and if the marks start to fade, he’ll just leave more. Everyone has to know who you belong to, after all.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Okay, bear with me y’all…but Mauga is a huge ass guy, so my guess is 8.5 inches, more girthy than long, but not too thick. He has a pretty cock for sure, with a slight curve a veins or two running up it, and a dark brown tip.

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

Very high. It’s always been somewhat high but after his surgery and his whole mental shift to living on the edge, he decides that he does whatever he wants when he’s feeling it (dont get me wrong he is very intelligent and calculated, but sometimes he just destroys shit when he wants to, and the same can be said about sex lmao)

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

It takes him a little while. He always has to watch you fall asleep first, making sure you’re safe and comfortable in his arms. He strokes your hair, rubs soothing circles into your back, before he eventually falls asleep himself.

#babygirlification #maugaloa malosi #mauga ho'okano #mauga x reader #ow mauga #overwatch mauga #overwatch x reader #overwatch fanfiction #mauga #Mauga fanfic #Mauga smut #overwatch smut

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dark-fics-4-you · 1 year ago

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possible rafe request?! rafes gf makes him mad by being too friendly at an event w wards business partners so he fucks her at the event 😈

Golden Boy

Warnings: domestic violence, noncon, toxic relationship, jealousy,

You chuckled politely, trying not to glare at the thirty-something year old man in front of you. Despite your best efforts, you couldn’t help but put a little venom in your reply, “Well, I actually do have plans outside of my boyfriend. I’m going to college right now, and I’m actually in a paid internship that I got before Rafe and I met.”

The somewhat handsome, but definitely too old to be your type, business partner, whose name you had already forgotten, gave you an annoyed look, not expecting you to respond that way to his poorly hidden dig at you not belonging at this event.

It was true, in some ways. You were far from your side of the island, and no matter how much time you put into your make up and hair or the price tags of the many expensive clothes Rafe had bought you, the Kooks could always sniff out the people who grew up with nothing.

Before he could respond though, you heard your name being called from behind. Peering past the man in front of you, you could see your boyfriend waving at you to come over to him.

You didn’t even bother telling the asshole in front of you that you were exiting the conversation, you just did, quickly returning to Rafe’s side.

“Ugh perfect timing, that guy I was just talking to was a total jerk,” you whispered in his ear as you gave him a hug.

“Baby, didn’t I tell you to try to get along with these guys?” He seemed angry and you could tell that this event was already stressing him out a lot. His hands were clenched into fists at his sides and everything about him was somewhat jittery, like he wasn’t in his right mind.

“I mean, you know I need to look good in front of them while my Dad’s watching. It means a lot to him.” You looked into his eyes at his words and noticed two things. One, Rafe said it meant a lot to his dad, but you knew it was more about how how much it meant to him. And two, his pupils were much wider than they should have been.

Rafe had obviously done some coke before tonight, trying to calm his nerves and give him some confidence, but it was only doing the opposite.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to make you look bad, but I don’t think it’s fair that I can’t defend myself in front of the people here who are looking down on me.” You shot back at him, annoyed for more reasons than one. “I’m being polite to them, but it would probably be easier for me if you were by my side to stop them from being so rude to me.”

You lowered your voice before speaking again, “And also… I don’t think you should be doing so much coke right now.”

Rafe’s burning glare alone was enough to make you regret saying anything, the return of his tight grip on your arm was just a sick formality at this point, reminding you of the previous bruise he had left in that same spot that you had to cover with makeup for this event.

After being with your boyfriend for so long, you knew the lengths he would go to when he felt personally wronged.

You learned very early on that Rafe was never one to hold back on his verbal abuse, and his physical abuse was no different, although he always tried to keep both incredibly private due to the damage that could come to the Cameron name if it ever came out that Ward’s son, the golden boy, was hitting his girlfriend.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that, Rafe. I just care for you, that’s all. I promise I’ll be polite to your dad’s friends.” Your meager apology seemed to be good enough for the moment, and your boyfriend gave you a silent nod after staring at you for several unnerving seconds.

“Be polite, don’t share your opinion, and just keep your mouth shut for the most part. Let them talk about themselves, and they’ll probably think it was the best conversation they’ve had all day.” Rafe grumbled, but his mood improved when he tilted your head up, pressing his lips to yours, large hand still resting under your chin. You kissed him back for what you thought was an appropriate amount of time, but when you tried to pull away, he held you in place, tightly wrapping an arm around your waist and forcing you to kiss him back.

By the time he released you, you pulled away to see several people staring at the two of you, and you felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

Rafe was always doing things like that in public when he felt like other men were threatening your relationship, he always needed to prove himself and stake his claim on you. Let everyone there know that you belonged to him.

“Remember what I said sweetheart. Just try to act like you belong here.” He smirked at his obvious jab at the very thing you felt the most self conscious about right now, before he calmly turned heel, approaching another group of stuffy, rich assholes across the large room.

Your huff of frustration must have been loud enough to be heard by someone standing near you, and you nearly jumped out of your skin when you felt a tap on your shoulder.

To your surprise, when you turned around you were greeted by a man who looked to be about your age.

“You’re Y/N, right?” He held out his hand, which you grabbed, giving him a firm handshake, just like Rafe had taught you.

“Yes I am, although I’m not quite sure if we have met before?” You lightheartedly responded.

“Ah, my apologies, you haven’t, I’m James, I work with your boyfriend at Cameron Development. He’s honestly a blast,” the man, James apparently, chuckled as he recalled several stories of work assignments with Rafe. This led to the two of you exchanging several funny work and college tales.

Despite never having met James before, you felt an instant chemistry with him, nothing romantic at all, of course, but you found him very easy to talk to, and to your surprise, after glancing at your watch, you realized that the two of you had been chatting for nearly 25 minutes!

At this realization, your blood instantly ran cold. Where was Rafe? Why hadn’t he checked on you? Had he seen you talking to the same guy for nearly half an hour, clearly enjoying yourself the entire conversation?

As if he could tell that you were thinking of him, Rafe suddenly appeared several yards away from where your conversation with James was taking place. There was a scowl on his face, and you could tell by the way he was advancing on you that he was pissed.

“Hey, Y/N, why don’t I give you my number, just so you have it?” James innocently asked, completely unaware of the anxiety coursing through your veins and the fact that your boyfriend was in earshot, pushing through the small crowd behind him to reach you.

Before you could even open your mouth to politely decline, Rafe was speaking for you, “She’s not interested.”

You didn’t have time to say goodbye, because your boyfriend was dragging you away from your new friend, his grip harshly digging in to your bruised arm.

“What the fuck did I tell you, Y/N?” His voice was even and calculated, but he couldn’t hide the rage simmering beneath the surface.

“You told me to-”

“I told you to get along with them, not to try to get into their pants.” Rafe growled, pushing you into the closest room with a door he could find, which happened to be Ward’s office. You landed on the carpeted floor, wincing in pain when your elbow absorbed most of the fall.

“Rafe, I promise, I was just having a good conversation.” Your voice was beginning to waver, the weight of the situation that you had found yourself in was beginning to sink in. “He’s your coworker, is it so wrong that I talked to him?”

“Stop lying! I know what I saw! You would have to be an idiot to not realize that he’s trying to fuck you too.” You would have been worried that someone could hear your boyfriend berating you, had it not been for the music playing throughout the house, and the thick walls of Ward’s study.

You realized how sad it was that you only knew that because Rafe had now loudly hurled insults at you in every room in the house he could at this point.

The blond stalked towards you, grabbing you by the wrist and yanking you upright. “I mean, did you seriously think I wouldn’t notice? You think that little of me, Y/N?”

“Rafe no, I-”

You felt the air in your lungs disappear as your head snapped to the side, a sharp pain in your cheek blossoming across the now reddened skin.

“You don’t get to talk back to me right now!” Your boyfriend yelled in your face. You had barely processed his slap when you felt him moving you again, although now you felt much more numb.

Numb to Rafe roughly manhandling you before he bent you over his father’s desk, numb to the feeling of the cold, hard wood on your face as Rafe held you down, numb to the feeling of him pushing your fancy dress up and rudely yanking down your panties before harshly pushing two fingers inside you, and numb to the tears that were now spilling onto Ward’s desk.

“Such a fucking slut! You’re soaked,” he darkly chuckled, but there was no hint of humor in his voice. “Is this all for me, or is it for James?” He bitterly wondered aloud, and when you didn’t give him a response fast enough, you cried out at the feeling of him smacking your ass.

“F-for you, Rafe,” you choked out through your tears.

You could hear him removing his belt, the sound of it hitting the floor was enough to trigger your body to begin quaking with fear and anxiety.

“Aw baby,” he cooed, and you flinched when you felt his fingers in your hair, lightly brushing some of it out of your eyes so he could look at you. “Don’t act so scared. I promise I’m not going to hurt you. Well, at least, not until after the party’s over.”

His laughter made you feel sick, but even worse was the shock you felt when Rafe spread your pussy and sheathed himself inside of you without warning.

You saw stars for a few moments, the surprise catching you off guard and he was able to slide deeper into your tight walls.

“Rafe!” You gasped, unable to fight back, as your arms were pinned beneath you, and your boyfriend’s large chest prevented you from moving.

His fingers tangled into your hair, gripping a handful tightly as he pushed your face into the desk. His hips were snapping against your ass, fucking you harder whenever you futilely tried to break from his hold.

Every time you tried to escape mentally, to tear yourself from the reality of what your boyfriend was doing to you, he brought you back, snapping his fingers or groaning your name into your ear as he forced himself deeper into your wet cunt.

You were sure that your hips would be bruised from bumping into Ward’s desk as Rafe fucked you against your will. Another reminder of all the lessons he insisted that he had to teach you by force.

Every sharp thrust was a warning that this was him holding back. This was him being nice. And you knew better than to further aggravate Rafe when he was on a power trip.

And that was exactly what this was all about. The power and privilege that Rafe held over you, that he used to hurt you time and time again, without ever facing any real consequences. This was about reminding you that you belonged to him and at the end of the day, Rafe Cameron was untouchable and unstoppable, the Kook King, the golden boy of one of the richest families in the Outer Banks.

“You are my girlfriend, Y/N,” Rafe growled. “It’s time you started fucking acting like it.”

#rafe cameron #dark!rafe cameron #outer banks #obx #rafe cameron noncon #dark rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut

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7ndipity · 1 year ago

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Their Ideal Types

Ot7

Summary: What I believe the members ideal types would be.

Warnings: Swearing, not proofread

A/N: Thanks to the lovely anon who requested this! Please bear in mind tho that these are just my personal opinions, based on what I’ve observed from their personalities and with some references to their astrology charts(if you’re not into that, just ignore those points on each list)

Masterlist

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Jin:

His Capricorn venus means that he’s a little old fashioned in his style of romance, which I think reflects in his statements in the past about being a classic hopeless romantic. He wants someone who he can sweep off their feet and eventually settle down with.

I don’t think he has a huge preference on age, I feel like he’d kinda want either a little older/younger rather than the same age tho.

He’s said once that he wanted someone a little on the chubby side(granted, this was years ago, so I don’t know if that’s still true), he also strikes me as someone who would be drawn more to the classic ‘girly’ vibe(pastel colors, flowy layers, fluffy sweaters, etc) but I think the main vibe he’d look for in a partner is comfort. I don’t quite know how else to describe it other than ‘Ghibli vibes’ if that makes sense?

He would want someone with a classy/graceful air, who’s confident in themselves and not afraid to take the lead sometimes and stand up for themselves.

Someone mature, but not too serious, with a good sense of humor and who’s not afraid to be silly sometimes. Someone affectionate, but not overly clingy.

Someone patient and understanding, who makes it easy for him to open up and be vulnerable.

Yoongi:

Pisces are already very deep feeling signs, but coupled with his Venus in Aries, Yoongi can sometimes come off rather intense in regards to relationships. He’s very matter of fact about his feelings sometimes, and I think he wants someone who can match his frankness. He doesn’t have patience for mind games, if you’re into him, fucking say it.

He’s said before that he doesn’t really have a type, at least when it comes to physical appearances or styles. Imo tho, I feel like he would be into someone with a casual, more tomboyish style(oversized hoodies/sweaters, layered shirts, sneakers, shorter hair)

Doesn’t really have a preference on age either.

He’s said before that he wanted someone similar to himself, with a deep passion for music and creating. Obviously, that doesn’t mean you have to be a professional artist/musician(I actually think he would prefer someone outside the industry, or at least outside the Idol/Kpop sphere), but he definitely needs someone who’s a fellow creative type who can understand that side of him.

Someone patient and warm, with an infectious energy that can help bring his mood up(kinda like Hobi), with a sharp sense of humor like his own.

I think he would like someone who’s somewhat independent, who knows what they want and isn’t willing to take shit from anyone.

Hobi:

His Pisces Venus means he’s very go with the flow when it comes to relationships, so he would want something very relaxed, without any chase or mind games, or anything too rushed either. He wants someone he can just ‘be’ with.

I think he’d prefer someone slightly younger, not significantly tho, just a couple years or so.

I think he’d be into someone ‘cute’, though maybe not necessarily in fashion sense, moreso just their general energy. Style-wise, I think he’d like someone who similar taste as him, more streetwear type clothes.

Someone bright and easygoing, who’s equally happy with going out or staying at home and doing nothing. Someone energetic, who not afraid to be silly at times.

Someone very sweet, kind and gracious(lowkey think he would be into the “mom friend” personality)

He’s said before he wanted to feel cherished in a relationship, so I think he would want someone he can take care of, big fan of skinship(bordering on a little clingy). Someone who makes him feel needed/wanted, who dotes on him over little things.

Namjoon:

Namjoon is like a textbook Virgo, very grounded and practical. However, his Venus in Scorpio means he’s quite intense emotionally and sexually, so he would want a partner that can balance or match his intensity.

I think he would prefer someone his age or slightly younger.

I remember Jk saying once that Joon was into the ‘cute but sexy’ vibe, and I think that’s still true to an extent, he finds people with range very attractive. I don’t know that he really has a preferred style, maybe something more simplistic like his?

He would definitely like someone confident and independent, who can hold their own in a conversation or argument, but still polite and open minded. Someone that can challenge him and his own perceptions.

Someone intelligent, career/goal driven, and creatively minded, someone who he can go to museums/art exhibits with.

I think he would also really like someone who’s into fitness and working out like he is(lowkey loves the idea of gym dates), but it’s not a necessity for him.

Jimin:

He’s a classic Libra to his core(which I love abt him but it also drives me crazy). As much as he loves to tease, he doesn’t have the patience for too much chase or playing hard to get. He wants someone who’ll be honest about their feelings.

I think he would want someone close to his age, a little older/younger doesn’t make much difference to him.

He said before that he tends to prefer cuter appearance/vibes, but with his Venus in Scorpio, I think he would be drawn to someone with a bit of a darker, sensual contrast in their personality or looks, kinda like him.

He’s a hopeless romantic,(his favorite movies are the Notebook and Like Crazy, he’s a major softie) wants someone he can fall with and yeah, be a bit melodramatic with.

Someone warm, but slightly introverted, maybe even a little shy. Someone kind, open minded, and patient, but willing to stand up and speak their mind when they need to.

Someone who makes him feel needed(another Libra trait) Someone who can keep up with, or even match, his flirty nature.

Taehyung:

As an Aquarius Venus, he tends to be drawn towards people with unique, unconventional beauty/style. He wants someone who’s not afraid to go against the norm to be themselves(tho he would love it if you have similar love for vintage aesthetic like him)

Idk why, but he gives me “When Harry met Sally” vibes. Like, despite his fascination with romanticism as an aesthetic, I think he really prefers to go the friends to lovers route. He wants someone he feels comfortable with first and foremost. He falls slowly and then all at once.

I don’t think he has much preference on age, but he’d probably like someone his age or maybe slightly older.

I think he’d kinda be into the “mom friend” personality. I’ve said it before, he really likes being taken care of, even if it’s just in little ways like fixing his hair or buttoning his coat before he leaves in the morning.

Someone slightly more extroverted, who makes friends easily, likes kids and animals.

Someone sensitive and mature, but who he can still be goofy and random with, who’ll play along with his skits and tangents(like jimin does)

Jungkook:

Although he seems more drawn towards classic feminine style, I think he’d actually find someone with a similar style to his really attractive, even if it’s just in color palette. I don’t think he really has a type stylistically tho.

Despite Libra Venus’ tendency to look for partners that they have an immediate connection with, they actually prefer the ‘friends to lovers’ route, and I think that’s very accurate for him.

He’s kinda into the chase(literally the entire Seven video like👀), so he likes a partner that plays a little hard to get and teases/challenges him sometimes, but only sometimes.

I think he’d prefer someone his age, or maybe even a little older(He has a noona/hyung kink, I will die on this hill)

Like Joon, I think he’d really appreciate who’s into fitness/working out/boxing(lowkey, if you can hold your own wrestling with him, he’s got heart eyes)

Someone confident, independant, and artistic with a good sense of humor. Someone well mannered and patient(rudeness is an instant turnoff for him). Someone who can challenge him, but in a gentle, non-critical manner.

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @feminympho @a-gayish-unicorn @captainorangegoose @k4ngelz

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carame1bunny · 3 months ago

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‎ ⋆˖⁺‧₊☽ 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞 ☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

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The beginning of something, yay! I really hope you like it and I’ll try to write as fast as I can. I want the chapters to be way longer, so I’m going to try working on it! Enjoy! xx Bunny

warning: none, maybe Alastor being a cocky bitch:)

───୨ৎ──────୨ৎ──────୨ৎ───

Alastor didn’t even know how he ended up here. Sitting in his car and driving to the loveliest jazz bar in New Orleans, The Red Magnolia, his favorite. Rosie, an old and dear friend of his, has recommended him to a manager, even though he didn't ask for it. He wasn’t interested in making any deals, but went to the “meeting” for her sake.

He knew he had a way with people, so he could have easily succeeded in business, however, his heart was always set on radio. Even when he was a little kid, putting on a show for his mother and pretending to be a radio host, his microphone consisted of a stick and a rock stuck to it with a few layers of cheap tape. Well, he was a real one now— the best one in all of Louisiana at that. Yet, it was sometimes good to make some investments and add to his wealth. After all, money opened doors charisma alone could not.

The humid air carried the familiar scent of lingering perfumes and magnolias, it was spring after all. There was no spring in New Orleans without magnolias. The distant hum of the city was mingling with the sound of his engine.

He snapped out of his thoughts when his eyes began recognizing the area around the bar. The streetlights cast long shadows, and the chatter of late-night revelers grew louder. It was busier than usual, which made him frown. He hoped that it wouldn’t get too popular, he didn’t need people recognizing him left and right whenever he came here. It was lovely to speak to his listeners and hear them praise his hard work, but not when he came here to have one or two glasses of rye and look for his next victim. That, he preferred to do in peace.

He parked his car and made his way in through the back room. The young woman cleaning in the back immediately perked up and went to stand in front of him.

“W-welcome, Mr.Leblanc!” She stood rigidly, clutching her cleaning cloth like a lifeline. He towered over the girl, who was obviously very flustered by it. He smiled smugly, pleased when he was able to make the ladies blush and stammer. And he loved when men were nervous around him, afraid of his words that could shatter their fragile little egos.

“Mr.Devereux is waiting for you in his office.” She fidgeted with the hem of her uniform. “Shall I lead you the way?” She looked up at him. She was pouting her lips, trying to make them look plushier, and tried to open her eyes up wider. It was pathetic.

“Thank you, buttercup.” He flashed a grin, and stepped aside to go up the stairs. The somewhat little bar had a decoration that was just perfectly his taste— dark red, black and gold. The warm, flickering glow of candlelight danced against the rich walls, giving the place an intimate, almost theatrical ambiance. The jazz band’s music filtered through the floor, it made him smile. Jazz had always brought him comfort, and it was his Mama’s favorite. He paused for a moment on the landing, letting the smooth rhythm of the music fill his senses. The black door of Mr.Devereux’s office taunted him, he reminded himself that he won’t let Rosie talk him into any more crap.

After a quick composing of himself, he knocked and stepped in slowly. Mr.Devereux was a short little man well into his forties; his head was balding and his body rounding. He kinda reminded Alastor of a garden gnome. He stood up fastly, nearly stumbling over his own feet, at least he wouldn’t have a big fall.

“Mr.LeBla—”

“Just Alastor.”

“Alastor, in that case… Just call me Rob, I’m very pleased that you were able to make it!” He shook his hand with the little man and smiled tightly when he felt the man’s sweaty palm. It made sense, he was awfully nervous, and could barely look Alastor in the eye. He recognized this kind of nervousness in men. Sweaty palms, red faces and the constant furrow of their brows, it was the matter of money. “Brandy?” Rob offered, his own glass already filled to the rim. He mumbled a ‘sure’, and sat down on the chair that sat before Rob’s desk. Once delivered, he sipped at his brandy and hummed at the burn in his throat.

Once he fell back in his seat, Rob spoke. “I was glad when Rosie told me your name, after I burdened her with my troubles.” He chuckled, his chubby fingers massaging his most likely aching temples. “Look, I’m going to cut to the chase, because it’s awfully urgent.” Great, Alastor thought, let’s get this over with.

“There’s this lady…Y/N Valmont. We have gotten her half a year ago. Her face is real pretty, voice like a siren. However, we cannot afford to keep her. Even though people adore her, the bars pay way less for her time.” He swallowed his brandy in one go and continued as soon as the liquor went down. “Mostly because she's a woman, and because she’s unmarried, they expect her to… how can I say this nicely? Do you understand?

Alastor was at a loss, he had no idea what this had to do with him and why “No, Mr.Devereux, I don’t know what you mean. Care to explain?” He had an idea what the proposition was, but he wanted to hear it from Rob’s mouth.

“They expect her to whore herself out, kiss the ass of the male audience. And obviously, she refuses to, stubborn little lady she is, but she can be real sweet when she wants to b—“ Al silenced him by putting a hand up. The other man immediately retorted back into his chair and straightened his back.

Now he spoke what he had on my mind the whole time since he stepped in the Red Magnolia. “What does this have to do with me? I am nothing, but a radio host.” Being humble was always a safe way to go in his opinion.

“Alastor, you have power, you are heard by all of New Orleans. And I have heard that take part in investments from time to time, she could be your greatest investment.” He was stumbling over his words, a new layer of sweat formed on his reddish face.

“If she says she doesn’t want to be courted around, then what would change if I “bought” her from you?” Alastor crossed his legs and leaned back in his seat. There was a somewhat awkward silence in the office, the only thing that was heard was the jazz sneaking up and through the floorboards. He could also nearly hear the gears turning in the other man’s head, he was really thinking hard about how to say his next few words.

“Well, people will eventually know that you’re her sponsor and gossip will come around. They will assume you’re courting her and that’s it. No one will expect her to whore herself around. All you have to do is sponsor her, pay for her numbers, her dresses and everything that helps her doll up. I would say… 80 percent, and we will pay the rest. We will manage her, and you just pay.”

He was confused, and just a tad angry. “Then what?” He raised an eyebrow. His lips were stuck in a grin.

“Then, once people accept that she does fool around with a man, especially New Orleans’ beloved radio host, they pay her and us properly, at least we hope so.”

They talked about details, and he thought… Fuck it. It wasn’t a lot of money, at least to him. Even if the plan failed, he would get the money back from the Red Magnolia, and it would bring him more attention.

“So, when can we expect you to decide?”

Alastor chuckled and offered his hand. “I’m in.” He never did anything like this, never acted so spontaneous, he always thought things like this through. But, a good deal is a good deal.

They shook hands, and while Mr.Devereux was working out the paperwork, Alastor decided to head down to the bar. The bar had three floors, the ground floor, where the stage was, around it the dancefloor along with tables with their seats, and of course the counter in the corner. The second and third floor were only balconies, the second had even more tables and sofas, it was more of a section where the guests could talk. The third was only used for the offices, no guests were allowed up there, there was barely any lighting even, only some oil lamps on the walls. The band was playing a soft tune, and people were dancing. His eyes got stuck on a couple. A girl with reddish hair and adorable freckles was resting her arms on the shoulders of, most-likely, her lover, a man with black curly hair. He recognized the lady, she sometimes played the piano right here in this very bar, her long and toned fingers telling the truth of her life’s passion. Even in the dim lighting, he could see the way they were looking into one another’s eyes, their sparkling gazes and soft grins told him everything he had to know. His eyes suddenly picked up a glint on the girl’s finger, a diamond ring. Now that he was looking at the young woman, he could see it. The very bottom of her abdomen was rounding up, her hips softer than usual and a light glow adorning her face.

In moments like this he wished he lived a normal life, a life where he could have fallen in love with a girl, marry her and eventually have a little one of his own. Maybe that way… he could have made his Ma prouder of him. However, he quickly snapped out of it. He didn’t care about all that, no woman could compete with the love he had for radio and the thrill of taking a human life. He wasn’t meant to settle down, or have a child, no.

He looked at everyone’s faces, but no one could see him, he couldn’t blame them, even he himself was struggling to see up there. However, as his eyes roamed around, they caught another pair. He felt his chest tighten for a second, his gaze caught another. Sleek updo and a pink dress. A young woman, who was sipping her cocktail and ignoring the seemingly cocky guy talking to her. She had the sweetest face he ever saw, shy smile and big doe eyes.

Suddenly, Mr.Devereux came up beside him, putting the papers in front of him. He was forced to rip his eyes away from her, so he could read through the contract. It took him quite some minutes to finish reading, he could feel her eyes still lingering on him. While he didn’t date, he enjoyed being around the ladies, they were either his dearest friends or his toys. Maybe this new little skylark could be useful to entertain him, until he gets bored, of course. Once finished, he saw how everything was written as they agreed on.

“So, are you satisfied?” Mr.Devereux asked, motioning to the contract. Alastor got his pen out of his breast pocket and just before making it official, he flashed his eyes again to the girl, who was just zoning out while wrapping her lips around a cigarette. Yes, a new toy is just what he needs. He spoke once he signed every paper.

“You’re damn right I am, Robert.”

───୨ৎ──────୨ৎ──────୨ৎ───

taglist: @jyoongim @lovingyeet @adamwarlockislife-blog @that-dumb-bitch @midorichoco @alastorswifeee @sugurubabe @captainfia @alastorssimp @iheartalastor @speedycoffeedelight @1o-o1 @kimmis-stuff @qu1cks1lversb1tch @chibistar45 @the-maladaptive-daydreamers @redfoxwritesstuff @fries11 @certifiedcrybabyyy @sirens-and-moonflowers @rapturenyx @visara-valentina

#alastor #alastor fanfic #alastor fanfiction #alastor fluff #alastor smut #alastor x reader #alastor x y/n #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin alastor x reader #alastor x you #alastor x oc #hazbin hotel fanfic #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel x reader

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really-good-devil · 3 months ago

Note

x men and marvel characters (wolverine, daredevil, gambit, nightcrawler, etc) with transmasc boyfriend.... please i beg of you

anon i see you i see you i'm thanking you for this. i just ran with this i hope its to your liking

MARVEL IMAGINES WITH TRANSMASC BOYFRIEND

content: religion mention (majority positively), medical/social transition implied, dysphoria, transphobia

Wolverine:

For someone almost 200 years old, he has a bit to learn upon meeting you

Obviously Morph is a help with this + definitely had to give him a PowerPoint presentation

His view of masculinity somewhat is skewed but he is very insistent on treating you like a man because you identify as a man and if that means anything to you then it means something to him

Flannels! He absolutely gives you his baggy coats when you make a comment on needing more masculine clothes (not to mention the smell that his clothes leave on you is a big plus, so sue him, okay?)

Workout regiment is always taken care of and you never skip chest and arm day

He calls you "darlin'" once and then immediately goes "aw shit" because it might be too "lady-like" (his words) but he gets over it very quickly

Mutant hate? He understands all too well. Transphobia? Whole new ballgame, but it makes him just as mad. As in, he has no problem almost kabobbing someone who makes a comment about you going into a bathroom when he takes you out to one of his preferred bars

He soon realizes after that that maybe you need better hangouts and though he doesn't think the beer is as good at the other places, it's worth it to him

To him, assholes like that are no less ignorant than those who attack mutants because its all the same so he gets feisty on the defense

Once when the body dysphoria is real bad, like the kind when mirrors are the worst thing in the world and everything feels gross and tight, he listens and holds you very tightly and though he can't understand half of it, he does understand self-hatred and it hurts him something fierce

So he'll go out of his way at that point to make it known that you are one of strongest guys he knows because you're going through change and sticking to yourself and he loves it about you

He offhandedly once mentions using his claws for top surgery in an attempt to be funny and neither of you know how to react in that moment but it actually is kind of funny much later

Nightcrawler:

Much more up to speed than some others

He's not unused to the ideas of the intricacies and ideas of gender from his time in the circus and seeing the different lifestyles at play there

There's some trepidation on some people's parts about how Kurt will react considering his religion and the history, but it very hardly factors in

Very flirtatious after he gets the okay to move forward even if it's new to him

Does everything he would try to do with his previous lovers; he loves flowers that remind him of you

Constantly trying to involve you in things that he enjoys that he would hope you enjoy

Movie nights are a favorite of his and even if they end up being more modern, he's always willing to give it a chance

Kurt of all people knows what it is like to be judged and ridiculed for how you look or how people perceive someone

Body positivity is a huge part for him; complimenting your frame, your body hair, your hands

After all, his own body is not what many would consider normal, but it is still his and he accepts it, so he'll literally be damned if he can't help with that

His whole thing is finding someone new that's nice to say every day (which isn't very hard for him, tbh)

When he hears you accept any of it he gets so excited that his tail wags and he peppers you with kisses that sometimes have little nips from his fangs but they're all gentle

Loves to take you up to the top of the X-Mansion to have semi-romantic getaways and look out at the night sky and think of things far beyond where you both are right now, though he know he is happiest right at your side

Gambit:

Meets you when you first arrive to the mansion and is instantly drawn to you

Ever the gentleman while he's trying to get to know you, almost like chivalry is his default no matter the gender

After you first confess your feelings his favorite card becomes his King of Hearts

You tell him it's cheesy but he is happy that you approve

He leaves it with you the first time he goes on a mission and though he didn't doubt that you would lose it, he is so happy when he sees you kept it you can literally feel his kinetic energy reserves when he kisses you deep

His favorite is on those rare occasions where you get to dress up, whether it's for a party or infiltrating something

He loves trying to find coordinating or inverse outfits accessories if that's the case (nothing huge, but small ways to show that you two are together)

Pet names constantly

He works with his hands often so he uses them constantly to explore your body and he has magic fingers in many ways

You're so perfect to him in every way imaginable

Matt Murdock:

You meet Matt in Josie's a while after moving to the area in a new area to "start fresh"

It's not that he hustles you but you don't expect to lose at pool to him

He's very charming and easy to learn from and it takes a while but eventually you do get together

Walks around the neighborhood as an excuse to get to know things end up being tiny dates

Foggy and Karen exchanging tiny looks over Matt's boyfriend but very happy for him

You're unaware of his double life but do end up having to fuss over his scrapes

Eventually you have to explain to him and it's awkward but he just seems to take you in without seeing you and he smiles a bit and its okay from then on

You think he's just super understanding and forgiving but no he's actually known for a while

He's been very perceptive of changes in you as you transition further; he knows when you just had a T shot from how you body is working just a bit harder because of it, when your voice gets a bit deeper between the times he sees you

He also had to do a background check because you can't be too careful at this point

But though it's insanely new to him since he hasn't been with a man, he does love you with no shame

He knows what you look like vaguely but always asks anyway because he wants you to explain what you see of yourself

Always very seriously and not seriously ready to remind you that he is part of fine law firm should you need to win a case against someone at the slightest complaint

You always feel safe and seen, in a way, with him, and it never really changes

‐----------------------

I hope you enjoyed this! If you did, feel free to request more like this or a fic! Requests are open and I have masterpost here and a list of characters and ships I'd write for here. Thanks for reading!

(Also lmk if any of these are interesting enough you'd want to see more of, bc the Matt and Kurt ones I would definitely be open to making a fic so stay tuned if it happens.)

#my writing #imagines #marvel #daredevil #matt murdock #logan howlett #wolverine #gambit #gambit xmen #kurt wagner #nightcrawler #marvel mcu #x reader #trans male #trans masc

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muffinsin · 5 months ago

Note

GUYS!!! GUYS!!!!!! idea time 😈

the dimitrescus (seperately) with a s/o that acts so much like a vampire, that the dimitrescus were suprised to learn they werent?

Like, reader has irregularly sharp teeth, claw-like nails, oddly pale skin, and literal bloodlust (they genuinly enjoy to drink blood, -- you can cut that part out if it makes u uncomftorable, obviously 💗💗)

Reader, their s/o, also avoids going outside like the plague, -- they hate the cold, always loom around and cause chaos (their energy vaguely resembles Danielas..), and wear dark, covering clothes (that also, somewhat resemble the dimitrescu sisters' cloaks) that you would expect to see in an old, monster-romance cliche.

Their s/o even has a tattoo! Its .. not on their forehead, but, its the same! Its a flower! They must be a vampire too! Wait, whaddya mean you're mortal? ..

.....

what?

IM GOING ABSOLUTELY FERAL FOR THESE LOVELY LADIES GRAHHHH SOMEBODY LITERALLY SEDATE ME 😨😨😨😨😨

And now i leave, just like my father -- aha. Please laugh.

-🐾🍪🏕

Traveling girlscout anon ;3

Awhhh, this is a cute one!! We love ourselves these vampiric tendencies! :)

Let’s get into it!

Masterlists

Bela

Until recently, Bela was convinced you’re a vampire. Or similar to her mother, at the very least

Sure, upon finding you and seeing your (at first glance-) humane nature, she did think of you as a human

But, within hours already, this changed

Early on she convinced herself you were like Alcina, not made of flies, but vampiric at the very least

After all, all about you screams just that

The first Bela noticed, ever, early on into your relationship, was your appearance

Hidden underneath your gloves are sharp claw-like nails

Much like her own, really, and nearly as sharp

She actually screamed in surprise and mild pain the first time you clawed at her back

She likes restraining you when things get wild, now, for the sake of her porcelain-like skin

Not only your nails look strangely inhuman, though

Next are your teeth, sharp and almost filed, again much like her own

Upon feeling them under her tongue, and later on inspecting them properly, Bela became aware of their fang-like nature

Really, she loves this

While she would never admit it, Bela loves to feel your fangs sink into her skin, to feel you break skin, to feel the pain she so rarely experiences due to her nature

And then, to her biggest surprise, there’s the tatttoo

Almost like her own! A rose, one typical for house Dimitrescu like hers, though lacking the other symbols of the house

Placed just below your neck, she saw it first when she offered you a massage

She likes to trace it whenever the two of you cuddle now, giggling whenever you lean up and kiss hers in return

What became obvious next, was your not so human appetite and favorite dishes

Mainly because while she made sure you had bread and such available, you showed no interest in that, and have barely indulged in that in the time she’s known you

In fact, to this day, you share her meals and snacks, blood

When she sits drinking the infamous blood-wine, you often sit down on her lap and take some sips from the fancy glass

At times you prefer it directly from the source

As such, Bela is moaning and gasping beneath you or trapped against a wall, her pale face flushed pink as you first bite down and tear her neck open, then suck at the wound eagerly

To this day, it’s something she grants you and something that gets her flustered like very little else

Your eyes are dark, your appearance even more so

Like her, you prefer dark clothing, something that only feeds into her suspicion of your vampiric nature

You loom about in the shadows, are hardly ever seen outside

In fact, she finds you only join her hunts at night

The sun she enjoys on her pale skin, warming and tickling lightly, seems to almost disgust you

You’re never seen in it, always stay in when you can

Your paleness almost matches hers

Sometimes, she attempts to get you outside

When she holds your hand and gently guides you, giggles as your face scrunches up in disgust

At times, you humor her, walk outside and stay in the shade, watch as she sunbathes

You don’t quite understand why, only growl to yourself at times as you watch her

At least, it’s an opportunity for you to watch her

Still, she giggles when your growls turn to whines after fifteen minutes or so, pleading to go back inside

At other times, you watch her from the window in her room, playing with the few daggers you’re allowed to store there

Then, suddenly, one day the truth comes out

It’s winter, the cool air trapping your girlfriend within the castle

Still, as she nibs at your neck and draws circles along your skin lazily, you feel her become restless

Working for her mother and being busy so often, winter is less harsh on Bela than her sisters

Still, she has cravings, as you come to learn early on in the relationship

And so she’s curled in your shared bed, whining quietly to herself (not that she would ever admit that) as you kiss her forehead

You promise, you’ll head to the woods to get her a snack, freshly caught, the way she likes it

Only is it during the day…and while the air is bitingly cold, the sun is standing high

Immediately, she worries and tries to stop you

Upon hearing her reasoning, you can’t help but giggle, which only prompts an adorably confused frown

You’re not incredibly surprised to hear her think of you as a vampire, but assure her nonetheless: you’re human

As such, she allows you to go, talking only of things to bring with you to keep you safe

And as you hunt for her, you endure the sun, frowning in annoyance at it occasionally

You truly hate the sun, and the annoyingly cold breeze makes it an even worse experience

But, you would do anything for her

And upon returning, you smile as she feasts on your catch eagerly, exploring your body anew after her discovery

You let her, leaving a light smile on your lips

Cassandra

Having met you officially as her mother’s advisor and informant from the village, and noticing your overall appearance, Cassandra has never thought of you as anything but a vampire

In all the time she has and does see you, you’re covered in black, gothic-like clothing, not at all unlike her own

You look regal, but dangerous, mysterious and dark

You look like you perfectly fit into the castle and the family, even before Cassandra has made you hers

Never has she seen you in colorful clothing, except maybe the few times you wore an almost victorian dress for one of Mother’s infamous hosted balls and festivals

A deep shade of red, victorian and gothic in style, further adding to her belief of your vampire status

Her believes haven’t changed to this day, even

When she hunts, you join her at night

And while not as fast or strong as her, you have little difficulty keeping up. Often you even slay beasts with her

The two of you like to stay until the morning approaches, kissing and hunting, relishing in one another’s bodies and words until it’s time to head back to the castle before the sun sets

She never questioned why you don’t like the sun. After all, all vampires don’t like it, can’t stand it even

You like to join her in the basement, often cleaning and polishing her weapons and tools of torture

She never thought of it as strange, never thought an immortal being like herself or her family would be bothered by the blood and screams

Your teeth are similar to her own, sharp and predatory, fang-like and glistening when the shine of the moon hits them

And while they’re not as strong or sharp as Cassandra’s, they are still unnatural looking

Of course, she’s very keen on them, as you realize early on

She loves to inspect your teeth and run her tongue along their sharp tips, crackling in delight whenever she isn’t careful and cuts herself on them

Secretly, she allows you to bite her when you play rough

At those times she relishes in your presence and vampiric-like biology, allowing you to take what you want from her, rather than the other way around

It’s rare times, but it’s still one of your favorite moments, when she allows you to hold her down and straddle her, your sharp teeth digging into her surprisingly sensitive neck

At those times it’s often that your sharp, claw-like nails come into play, as well as her own if you neglect to use protection

Always, you tie her arms and wrists up when it’s your turn to take from her

Your girlfriend simply loves scratching too much, so much so you’re sure you couldn’t live through it

You are after all, though oblivious to her, mortal

As such she’s usually tied when you take, and relishes in the deep scratches you give her along her backside when she takes from you

Sometimes, after, she allows you her blood as a reward

It’s divine, and if you could (and if she let you) you could easily live off only that

Alas, you often share in a maid with her, held between the two of you, her cries muffled as both of you share one side of her neck to drink from

While usually discarded after, they always make for a fun snack

Should one be unlucky enough to live through it, it’s clear she’s Cassandra’s plaything now, awaiting the woman’s attention in the basement

And lastly, another detail she loves about you, is the tattoo placed on your chest

A rose, similar to the one she sports, only missing the Dimitrescu sigil and the ring surrounding it

Sometimes, when feeling particularly soft and cuddling up together, Cassandra likes to draw along the tattoo, adding bits here and there

Until, at the end, it looks nearly identical to her own

You smile whenever you see it

The day she finds out about your mortality is one like any other, really

She’s out hunting with you, the late night hours when the sun is down and the air has adapted a nice, cozy temperature

You’re at it for hours, hunting successfully, not worried about the time in the slightest

It wouldn’t be the first time the two of you stay out all night

And as the spirits rise and the hunt slows, the two of you take advantage of the quiet forest that seems to belong to only the two of you, now

With your hands tangled in her hair and your teeth teasing her neck, you completely forget about restraining her hands

As such, when you bite down, her claw-like nails come down on you, slicing and tearing lines down your back

Immediately, you tear yourself away, screaming in pain even as pleasure runs through you and your fang-like teeth and lips tingle with the desire to feast on her again

As you sink to your knees, she’s immediately by your side

She doesn’t understand, not until she notices your trembling body and the deep slashes at your back

She never considered that, unlike her, you don’t heal as fast

Immediately, you feel her tear your blouse from you, straps of your and her clothing used to help bandage your wounds

You don’t notice how tense your body is, until she cups your face

Her face holds a mix of surprise, worry and anger

“You stupid mortal!”, she cusses, and you can’t help but grin stupidly at her

You doubt you’ll get her to trim her nails even a little, but are still somewhat thrilled to have felt them on you

She supports you as you make your way back to the castle, rambling on angrily about how you didn’t tell her you were human, as though it wasn’t obvious by your blood alone

For the next few days you enjoy the mixture of her pampering and scolding you

She feeds you her blood, somewhat feeding into the strange nature of your biology, a human fed a mutant’s blood

You keep ropes and such in mind after this, and allow her to worry about you a little more than before

At least, she doesn’t treat you as she does other mortals, still valuing your skills and abilities rather than treating you like you were made of glass

Daniela

When she first encounters you, she immediately thinks; this is it

You are it

Her true love!

Her one and only! The reason all the others were mere disappointments! The sole reason she hasn’t found happiness yet!

Because of course, her true love would be like her!

You’re even matching her tattoo, somewhat, wearing the rose tattoo on your wrist

Your heart at your sleeve, so to say, she thinks when she first sees it

Of course, it must be a sign

A sign you’re her soulmate!

Often, she traces your tattoo

When you do the same to her, she practically melts against you, a blushing mess of buzzing flies that could easily be mistaken for purring at your touch

You’re taller than the average villager, more so similar to her own height, too

She never once thinks you might be human, and you never once suspect she might have doubts about your mortality, and thus never set her straight

She supports you fully, buying you all the clothing you like, all dark and gothic themed, much like the one of her family

You’re a Dimitrescu by heart, she’s sure

Sometimes, she likes to take your clothing, hunting in a new pair of dark pants and a tucked in, black blouse of yours

At other times, she allows you to take inspiration from her clothing

With both of you detesting the cold, there’s nothing you like more than to curl up someplace with her

Daniela’s not made to keep others warm, being barely able to keep herself warm, after all

You, despite your appearance and vampire-like aesthetic, are entirely different as it comes to that, so that on cold days it’s often you warming her up while the two of you scowl at the temperature

Maybe, your warm body and blood should have been a hint to her, a hint proving your mortality

Often, she feeds from you, especially on the cold days

Your warm blood dripping down her throat and settling in her cool body works wonders, so much so her face is flushed fast and she heats up within minutes

Daniela loves the feeling of your teeth against her skin, the sharp fangs digging in and biting down at one of her most sensitive spots

Often, it gets her excited. You’re always eager

Another way for you to warm her up, after all

In turn, she eagerly allows you a taste of her whenever you want

Unlike you- another hint, probably- she doesn’t have to wait days for the wound to close again, after all, so you can occasionally feed off her multiple times a day

On sunnier days, Daniela tries hard to have you come outside with her

As she hates the cold, she loves the sun!

Next to you, she almost looks as if she is the mortal one, even

You, dressed in dark clothing and scowling a little whenever the sun hits your eyes, her, grinning from ear to ear in a light, fluttery dress, the only indication of her vampiric nature being the bloody splats along her chin and cheeks

Sometimes, she asks for picnics, reading together in the castle gardens, cuddling and sleeping in the sun, sharing little treats here and there that you’re sure she sneaked from the kitchens

She can’t tan, but likes the thought of it nonetheless, so you often read to her while she’s spread out in the sun like a lazy cat enjoying the warmth along its fur

Often, she ends up dozing off, awakening in your arms or in her bed once you’ve decided you had enough of the outside and carried her back to your shared room

At other days, she takes you hunting with her, the both of you running and stalking, laughing whenever a human gets lost among the tall trees

Sometimes, the two of you share the blood of your prey right then

At other times, you drag it home to the castle and you prepare the meat for the both of you

She always figured you do this as a preference, oblivious to the fact you really should not be eating raw meat

And on some other days, the two of you like to race at the castle, causing chaos where you can

You like playing a game of scaring the staff, seeing whose presence is more unsettling, counting how many poor maidens can be stalked until they grow aware of your presence

Only does she grow aware of your mortality when your chaotic games eventually cause a window to break

Immediately, you shield her body with hers when screams are torn from her

Teary eyes look up at you full of sorrow, as though she expects you to die shielding her

But, no such thing happens

Your skin doesn’t crystallize, doesn’t even bruise

You merely shiver as you hold her and wrap your vest around her tightly

“I’ve got you”, you whisper, and while you sound worried, there is no pain in your voice

She doesn’t understand…

As you return to your room, it’s her that checks you for injuries first, despite how you try to fuss over her

She can’t understand..not even a scrape?

You grow more and more confused with her

Why is she so surprised?

Upon voicing her confusion, you can’t help but laugh a little

As you cup her face in your hands, her cold, but soft cheeks pressed against your warm hands, she looks at you with an endearing expression

You explain you’re mortal, something you never quite thought you’d have to do

And yet, the more you speak the more she connects the pieces of what could have been hints from long ago

She feels a little silly, but is quickly overwhelmed by the happiness and excitement upon remembering you saved her

Her knight in dark, shining armor, truly

#cassandra dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #🐾🍪🏕️ anon

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ledesaid · 1 month ago

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Moments before 8 am

►►►►►►►►

"I am not going to school."

"Excuse me, what?" That's enough for Guy to turn down the TV volume.

Billy is sitting in front of Guy, who doesn't look very happy, and the reason is not that big of a deal, or so Billy thinks.

"Kid, all children have to go to school, otherwise the whole point of skipping a day or two is lost."

Billy's expression triggers a staring contest that leads the older one to look for something in his closet.

The staring contest resumes when the Lantern crosses his arms while holding a somewhat folded backpack in one hand, obviously attesting to having accompanied Guy at some stage of his life.

It was already a Monday and it wouldn't be long before the school buses picked up the children from the street.

"Come on, Cap, it'll be just one day and you can wear the clothes I bought last time."

Guy had taken him out, amid shouts and explosions from the watchtower; after the mutiny to steal part of the buffet, hiding in his modest apartment in Baltimore was the best option.

He shared it with Billy, as it should be, and now Monday had come to bring up that issue.

Courtesy of his nosy neighbor. Who didn't take long to make Guy understand that she was five seconds away from a call to social services if he didn't send his kid to school, because she didn't want him to be a delinquent like Guy. Obviously, she didn't know that he had a college degree and was a former police officer.

And although Guy had every intention in the world of making those couple of points clear to the annoying woman, it would be an unequal fight and he didn't play dirty. How difficult it is to have codes these days.

"I'm not going."

True. Billy. Only recently did he learn of his super-steroidal superpowers. The kid was doing a good job, he was eleven years old and that left him at least six years of his life managing on his own.

"Help me, Cap, that woman is going to bring trouble to both of us."

He admired him, he had grown up quite well despite his unfortunate circumstances. He didn't want a father or anything that defined itself as such, but he was open to looking for companions and friends.

If he understood correctly, this kid had been out of school for four years and that put him at a huge disadvantage with the other kids his age.

The process would be tedious and long, but Guy had a couple of teacher friends who could help him without asking too many questions.

He hoped the kid wouldn't ask about the strange sandwich he was preparing for lunch.

The clock ticks on and no progress. Time for bribery.

"Did you know I was a cop, Billy?"

"Is that a threat, Guy?"

Bad move.

"It's more of a... I can ask a friend to take you in a police patrol."

Billy smiles.

"Not bad at all. Actually, that sounds awesome! My friend Freddy would be jealous if I sent him a photo."

It would be a one-time noisy event. Billy thinks that. He could do something like that and then disappear as if nothing had happened. But one thing was missing for it to be memorable.

"Only if you include a pair of police sunglasses."

"Deal."

"But only for today."

"I have no problem with that, I’ll use the morning to move, and you'll be free to walk among pubescent youths like the demigod you are."

Guy hoped the day would be good enough for Billy to go back to school the next day. But if not... he had more cop friends in other states to try again.

#fanfic #ao3 #cómics de dc #dc comics #billy batson #shazam #capitan marvel #billy needs friends #capitain marvel #guy gardner #father guy gardner #green lantern #dc captain marvel #fawcett city #fawcett #fawcett comics #captain marvel

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moonlight-sonata99 · 10 months ago

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What we've built

Hunter x F!ex jedi reader

This has SPOILERS from the series finale!

Tumblr deleted the original draft I had🥹 which was LONG AS HELL but here we are.Sorry for any mistakes that may have went unnoticed! Also I'm currently thinking about writing a crosshair and wrecked one hehehe

"So...your leaving. Just like that?" A voice called out in the darkness, as omega packed in her room. She had obviously not been expecting anyone to be home,Hunter had went out a while ago. And The women in front of her was meant to be asleep long ago.

"I...no..?" Omega grinned awkwardly, and the women in front of her only gave her a deadpanned expression as she leaned on the doorway as if blocking omegas way...

"I need to-"

"I know." The women sighed, getting off the doorway and walking next to omega, and picked up and folded the clothes and places them in her pack. Omega only looked at her and sat down on the bed, the sadness somewhat getting to her.

"Dont feel guilty" the older women said,

"It's what you have to do" she added as omega stared at her. Omega remembers when she first met her. The woman was on tantis, and when omega had found her..she her hands were tied and she looked tired...now she stood before her.

"When I was born,They took me to the jedi temple," the woman said, looking down at the clothes in front of her. "I never had the chance to become what I wanted to be." She said softly, walking to omega and gesturing her to stand, and so omega did.

"I won't deny you" the woman whispered softly, her voice was trembling. And omega began to feel her eyes mist. "You will always be that little girl on tantis" The woman smiled and hugged omega.

"I love you" she said as omega hugged her back, tears running down her cheek.

"I love you to"

The woman and omega packed up the rest of omegas belongings and The woman opened the door as omega walked our, and turned back with a sad smile.

"Dont you dare think about not coming back" the woman instructed, waving her finger at the girl. And omega laughed "I promise " she said and hugged her one last time.

"Goodbye" omega said into her shoulder and the woman tapped her back,

"Goodbye omega," the woman said softly. And omega pulled away, and turned her back and walked away. The woman only watched as the tears began to fill her eyes once again, and she leaned on the doorway, keeping her eyes on omegas figure until it disappeared in the distance.

The night remained, and the woman tugged on her long sleeved top, and she walked to the cliffs and hiked down. There the waves crashed and she looked around, and found a familiar figure sitting on the rocks.

"You alright?" She called out,and Hunter's head turned to see the woman climbing up the rocks. He met her halfway and offered his hand, which she gladly took. She noticed the ship was long gone, and she sighed.

"I suppose," hunter said, a but if sadness in his voice. The two walked together and sat down watching the soon dissapear.

"She will be alright" the woman nodded softly, "we've...taught her well"

"You sound..somewhat unsure" hunter chuckled looking at her with a smile.

"I felt I was bit rusty," she admits, opening her palms. "And all I know is how to fight like a jedi. I hope I wasn't too harsh, " she says, her eyes darting to the sea

"You did fine" hunter smiles, taking her hand in his. "We did fine"

The woman smiled and let her free hand on top of his, his hands were filled with old scars, and rough. He had taken up fishing and other hobbies since their stay here.

"We have, haven't we?" She says in thought. "If you had told me years ago that if I married a clone, I don't think I would've believed you."

Hunter laughed and she looked at her,

"If you had told me if I had married a jedi, I don't think I wouldn't believe either."

The two chuckled, and basked in eachothers presence.

"It's nice,what we've built is beautiful," she said softly, leaning closer to him and putting her head on his shoulder. He only hummed and looked down at her. His wifes face is also marked with her years, but he pays no mind. She is just as beautiful as the day he layed eyes on her.

He leans his head down on hers and admires the waves that continue to rock back and forth,

"Hmm..this reminds me, you have another one at home that needs you" the woman teases and hunter grimaces, thinking about the young girl back at home. "Ehhhh I think she doesn't need me as much, I think she'll need you" he replies with a smile and the woman laughs.

"As if!"

#tbb x reader #sargent hunter x reader #hunter x reader #tbb hunter x reader #the bad batch x reader #the bad batch hunter x reader

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theredofoctober · 2 months ago

Text

MANNA- CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE: GUM

Dark!Hannibal Lecter x Reader x Dark!Will Graham AU fic

TW for eating disorders, noncon, abuse, implied CSA, Daddy kink, cannibalism mentions, death (including of a young people), pregnancy mention (no actual pregnancy happens)

Read after the cut

---

You pass those early November days in a state half haze and half suggestion, the doctor's medicine the antidote for the inevitable tilt of your sane mind under the density of his evil.

It is relieving to be but his daughter, slurring and monosyllabic against your bed as he teases sheathes of meat past your lips or leaves you to work, or to exercise, or to meet unnamed friends at elegant bars that leave his clothes smelling of expensive alcohol.

This might have made you envious, had you not been so far under an influence of his making.

How beautiful the drug that cauterises the fetid wound of thought, taking from you ruminations of the boundless killing, the rapes, the guilt of eating and surely gaining from it; you could kiss the hand of whatever elf of morphine so surrounds you in its magic.

Never in adult life have you been so quiet of cognition, nor so truly at rest. When Will is announced to return and you're allowed to taper back into sobriety you think of asking for it to end, to have again that Xanadu where the dread of your days is but the black of a turning cloud.

But then you think of how many breakfasts, lunches, and dinners in their inimical triads you've taken there as though at some Roman feast, and you are revolted with yourself and that numb lapse into defeat.

You insist on dressing and making yourself up that morning in a burgundy dress patterned with foliage Hannibal had lovingly allowed you to select, with his iPad before you, from a Lolita Lempicka 1997 runway, sold for an unspeakable price from a stylist's collection.

Being that the dress is sheer you wear a shift beneath, unable to stand the sight of your body through it, wanting only the gown's flocked effect of coiling leaves like one last fragment of autumn upon you. That, and the power of having bid your keeper to purchase something so expensive; his tastes have somewhat rubbed off on you, you realise, elevating them to a standard he approves of.

He looks at you admiringly even after Will arrives, self-congratulating in having made such a mannequin of you.

Will, for his part, barely notices the dress at all. The Lover’s case is his mistress, and like such a wicked woman it has taken him from you.

“We’ve been given the details of three Mask Murder victims in Kentucky,” says Will. “They died thirty years before the Lover killings began. His youngest target in the present day was eighteen years old, whereas the Kentucky victims were all the same age as Anäis Foreau.”

He lays out images of the women as they’d been in life upon the coffee table: a family snapshot, a birthday celebration, a yearbook photo, all taken on cameras likely defunct relics of old technology by now.

“Lillian Greyflower, Bryce Mulligan, and Anita Bradbury were each dressed as dolls and laid to rest by bodies of water under the cover of night. All of them were of an unusually small build, with blonde hair and light-coloured eyes; that gives us a vague description of the Lover’s first muse, being that he obviously tried to replicate her in his murders.”

You stare at the three women, automatically comparing your frame with their thinness, and are ashamed when you realise their ages.

“They’re all little girls,” you say, aloud. “Which means she must have been, too. All of them... just kids.”

“Indeed,” says Hannibal, and he lays a serious hand upon your shoulder as though he, too, had not killed similarly young women in copying other crimes.

“I just hope I don’t have any children,” you mutter. “The world is a bad place.”

Hannibal looks at your leg, which has entered, of its own accord, its habit of tireless motion, the unshod foot tipping one of the striped sofa cushions onto the floor.

“You’ve thought about pregnancy, then,” he comments levelly.

You shrug.

“I mean... yeah.”

“What kind of thoughts?”

Feeling both men’s eyes burn your face with their focus you say, “I get scared it’ll happen to me. Sometimes it keeps me awake at night. I can’t have a baby. That’s what I am. I can’t take care of anybody and I don’t want to.”

Your voice strains into a strangled peak, and as Hannibal bends to retrieve the cushion he touches your knee gently.

“You needn’t worry,” he says. “I’ve been administering birth control since it was safe to do so.”

You examine him with dull apprehension. It would not be unlike Hannibal to experiment with such an immobilising condition as an unwanted pregnancy, the symptoms of which would force you to gain the weight you dread like the devil.

But then you cannot imagine Hannibal having much interest in the rearing of a real child, with its messes and disruptive noise and inappropriate demands. Yours he merely tolerates because he apparently perceives something in you worth enduring those assaults upon his taste.

Still you do not—cannot—trust his word. A carousel of alternate realities exists to him, all of them equally true.

“You’re sure it can’t happen even by accident?” you ask. “Because you don’t— neither of you have ever, well—”

You cannot utter the word that comes forth for protection, finding it clumsy and humiliating.

Tortured, you whisper, “Never mind.”

Will smirks, enjoying your embarrassment.

“Haven’t we left it a little late to talk about contraception?”

The thought of him pausing before an assault to roll down rubber over his arousal rises, sickening and provocative. Hannibal would do so clinically, as though putting on a latex glove, but Will would apply it quickly, crudely, if at all. He doesn’t seem like a man that would bother with condoms; certainly he never has with you.

“It’s not funny,” you say. “It really freaks me out. If I got... bigger. If my body looked different because of that I’d hate it. I don’t know what I’d do, and it’d be all because of you guys. I don’t have a choice, remember?”

Merely speaking of the potential of this sends a grave pulse of adrenaline through your frame, and you begin to shiver even in the warm of the room.

Will takes off his jacket and puts it around your shoulders.

“Relax,” he says. “There’s not going to be a baby, alright?”

Hannibal stands to tend to the fire, though it scarcely needs the feast of logs he offers up to it.

“I can’t help but wonder, Will. How would you feel if there was?”

Will's face twists.

“There’s no place for an infant in this dynamic. It wouldn’t fit. She plays that role, some of the time. I’m fulfilled, if that’s what you want to know. Aren't you?”

"Of course," says Hannibal, to your relief. "I’m simply curious how you’d respond if a pregnancy occurred in other, hypothetical circumstances.”

You draw Will's jacket closer around you as his gaze steals across your body. With resentment you realise how he envisions you: his pretty young lover, full with his child, pottering heavily about his faraway residence amidst a froth of dogs.

He cannot bring himself to think how it would truly be, a sobbing, bloated servant, chained at the ankle to prevent her from dashing her head of its brains on the nearest dresser.

“I wouldn’t plan it to happen," Will says, still thinking of his domestic ideal, "but I don’t entirely hate the concept.”

Then his visage hardens, and he shakes his head.

“To have a child at a time like this would be ill-advised. It'd be an invitation to any circling predator to play their hand.”

“You think the Lover will continue to provoke us as he did with Amy,” says Hannibal. “That his interest is caught between his muse and the three of us."

Surely he knows, you think, if he has contact with the killer. What is this new game that Hannibal's playing?

“We’re taking a role in the narrative the Lover is creating,” says Will. “The love story. The investigation to him is like relatives standing in the way of forbidden romance.”

“That,” says Hannibal, “or being aware of our relationship through the rumours circulated by Tattle Crime he believes that our family emulates that which he aches to possess. He envies us our love. Amy’s abduction was an attempt to derail our charge’s treatment and destroy our bond with her; Little One would not have forgiven the death of a friend. Though foiled, his efforts are unlikely to end there.”

You recall the thunderous panic that had descended over you upon learning Amy had been taken and rub your damp palms dry on your dress, forgetting, temporarily, its value.

“So you think he’ll kill someone else I know,” you say. “Someone who isn’t even his usual type just to get at me.”

“We can’t deny the possibility,” says Will. “The only time we’re likely to see him break his pattern is to agitate you.”

“But hasn’t he broken it already? If the Lover’s victims are the same age as his target then she must be an adult. And the first muse had to have been a little girl— knowing what we know about guys like him, why didn’t he choose another child?”

A glance passes between Will and Hannibal that you cannot entirely dissect.

“He did,” says Will, at last. “The Lover chose his new target long before he started placing women into rubber dolls. There was a lack of access preventing him from abducting her when she was younger. His first muse would have likely been a relative, someone he could isolate and travel with freely without being questioned; he hasn’t had that opportunity with his new bride, or he would have taken her already.”

Will’s voice is low, careful, as though breaking the news of an incurable illness to some fragile patient.

“The Lover held off killing again for as long as he could to avoid creating a recognisable pattern. That’s why there were decades between the Mask Murders and the Lover killings; once he started again it was less likely the police would link the two cases together. The ages of the victims are just another change to throw off the scent.”

Another child grown up in the world observed and objectified by an adult engorged with power over them.

“Does the Lover know what happened to me?”

This directed at Hannibal, who has conversed enough with the killer to know.

“He’s aware that you’re unwell,” he replies, cautiously. “That being public knowledge, it’s not so farfetched to imagine that he has guessed the cause.”

In some subtle mode Hannibal is informing you that it was not he that told of this crime against your youth. But that your captor knowingly collaborated with a similar predator to your own folds your gut down into the smallest square.

You should never have expected more from him, yet you had thought him possessed of greater self-respect. His claim that the Lover’s continued life and freedom is to allow Will to capture him alone is tenuous to the extreme.

This line of brooding thought is disturbed by Will tugging his cell phone from his pocket to look at the screen.

“Is it Jack?” you ask at once.

Another killing, you think, of a person so close to you that you will feel the Lover’s darkness like wolf breath upon you.

“It’s Beverly Katz, actually,” says Will. “She’s been going over some of the evidence from the crime scenes. Maybe she’s found something useful.”

He rises, already grunting into the receiver with his usual absence of professional manners.

“There’s wine in the kitchen,” says Hannibal, as Will passes him by. “You may open it, if you like.”

“Generous as ever, Dr Lecter.”

A silence imbues the room in Will’s wake, the conversation having stained the air with its dun pallor.

Then in an abrupt motion Hannibal bends slightly to reach under his chair, his hand emerging around the handle of a ribboned gift bag.

“Now we have a moment of privacy,” he says, “there is something I’d like you to have.”

You accept the bag with apathy, too worn down by the discussion of the Lover case to muster even the remotest glee.

“What is it?” you ask. “Another present?”

You reach into a blossom of tissue and retrieve something of worn velveteen from within. Almost at once you attempt to return it to the bag, prevented only by Hannibal’s quick grip upon your wrist.

“How did you get that?” you demand. “Did you let yourself back into my house and steal it?”

A battered toy frog dangles from your throttling grip, its body worn almost through to the stuffing from past adoration. Once you’d cherished the early, half-formed memory of Leland Frost dancing the animal before you, giving it a voice that was merely an exaggerated version of its own.

Now you only cringe at the echo of his chatter. The frog’s glass eyes remind you of the porcelain mask on the dead face of Anaïs Foreau.

Hannibal says, “I asked your mother to find it and send it to me. She was glad to oblige.”

You glare at him in hurt and disgust.

“Why would you do that?”

“I believe Philippe represents the comfort that was ultimately tainted by the actions of another. In hiding him away you’ve allowed that arrow wound to fester and infect your blood with the taint of that historical abuse. I’d rather we heal the injury and cut out the flint entirely. It would hurt you far less to do so quickly now and discard at least some of your grief.”

That a man that hangs corpses in his cellar can speak also as a poet, calm and empathetic in his syllables takes you aback; you are as moved by his suggestion as you’d been by him tending you on your sickbed.

“You mean I should get rid of him for good,” you say. “Flip, I mean.”

“Yes. It would allow you a partial sense of closure in regards to the love you once had for Leland Frost. You may choose to give Philippe away, or to destroy him in whatever way you wish. I’d like it to be your choice.”

You hold Flip with both hands, knowing you cannot bear another child to cradle this thing with as you once did, and consider tearing it apart down the middle. Then you glance up at the fire, and see in its savagery a suitable end.

“I want to burn him,” you say. “Burn it.”

Hannibal nods, satisfied by your willingness to engage in the exercise.

“Very well. Go on, then.”

Without speaking another word you get up and throw the animal into the flames with such vehemence that you near unbolt your shoulder from its joint. The frog’s skin blackens into haggard twists, its eyes turning like the orb of some fell sorcerer into grim opacity.

As sparks spit like star falls from the pyre your misery and disgust sear away into a tired hollow, yet you feel somewhat cleaner for it, as though some poison has been turned out of the bottle of your heart.

Hannibal’s pale hand extends, palm up, towards you, and you take it, having no other to hold for comfort but that of a murderer.

“The burning of things has always held spiritual and emotional significance since its discovery by ancient man,” he says. “The charring of offerings as a gift to deities. The burning of the dead to transport them to planes beyond.”

“Witches burn things to cleanse energies,” you say. “Or to manifest something.”

“And of the two which is your purpose?”

He asks this quite seriously, without irony or teasing.

“I don’t know,” you say. “Both, I guess.”

Looking up into Hannibal’s expression you see for the first time something of what he feels for Will. It frightens you, and yet you wish to drink of it as though from an oasis.

“Thank you,” you murmur. “I’m glad we did this.”

Hannibal leans down to kiss the parting of your hair rather chastely, and you sit in an almost comfortable quiet together, your head nestled into his impeccably ironed shirt.

Abruptly you say, “Do you want to know why I thought about killing my Mom that time rather than Uncle Lee?”

You feel your captor straighten slightly against you.

“If you’re ready to tell me, then of course.”

Closing your eyes, you draw the strength to speak from your personal darkness.

“I loved my mom. I knew her so well. I had all these expectations of her and ideas of who and what she was supposed to be. So whenever she did something to hurt me or yelled at me it was easy to be mad at her. To wish that she was dead.

“But Leland... even when I loved him and he was my best friend I never really knew anything about him behind the act.”

Hannibal strokes the back of your neck, the rhythm of his touch like the rocking of a child to sleep.

“He had a mother that died, I heard,” you say. “A cousin, too, I think he mentioned once. He still has a lot of living family he never goes back to visit. Maybe all of that’s part of what made him what he is, but I don’t think so.

“They say you’re born with those attractions. I guess some people are ashamed of it and try to be better, but Leland obviously never did. He... relished what he was. Even before I knew what the dark shape behind the eyes of his mask was I always saw he had no shame in anything. And I couldn’t comprehend it, so how could I be angry?

“It’d be like trying to be mad at an animal. Or some kind of spirit or entity. I wouldn’t know how to kill something like that.”

Hannibal says, “It’s not an impossible feat to exorcise such a being.”

Even within the pain of remembered past you are amused that he is beginning to entertain your flair towards supernatural thinking rather than attempt to translate it into rational or psychological language.

“And how would I do that?” you ask. “Prayers and salt circles?”

“That won’t be necessary. All we must do is demystify your uncle’s past and the creation myth of his evil. Once we have before us the fabric of his becoming then he’ll no longer seem unknowable to you, only a mere mortal. A thing that can be killed.”

Opening your eyes you immediately glance aside, too conflicted by your gratitude towards the creature you most fear to meet his gaze.

“I’ve tried looking him up before,” you say, “going through all his social media and stuff. There wasn’t a lot. Fishing photos and dad jokes, mainly.”

“Leave it with me,” says Hannibal. “For now, I have one final question on the matter of Leland Frost. If you were to ever reach the point you were able to kill him would you do so in the same way you’d envisioned for your mother? It is a form of intimacy, the use of a knife. It allows you to feel every physical aspect of death as it occurs and to witness in close quarters the recognition of its approach in the eyes of your victim.

This again, you think with a weary resignation.

"I don't know how I'd do it," you say. "Just like I wouldn't know how to kill you. It's unthinkable."

"Is it?" asks Hannibal, and with a liquid motion he withdraws a knife from the inside of his jacket— not the little fruit peeler with which he'd threatened you on that night of revelation but a steel kitchen blade, half the length of his arm and cruel in the maintained evil of its edge.

You start away from him across the couch, halting only when he turns the weapon upon himself, offering you the handle.

“Show me how you’d kill me if you had the opportunity to do so.”

Anxious, incredulous, you accept the knife from him.

“You’re trusting me with this, Dad?”

“Yes. I hope that you appreciate the gesture. Besides, I’m confident that I could disarm you before you’d done more than graze the skin.”

The image of him snapping your wrist in his fingers elicits a shudder.

“I don’t want to do this," you say, and attempt to hand the knife back, which Hannibal refuses.

“If you fear and respect me as your father then you must obey. Demonstrate your instincts for me, Little One. Would you pierce my heart as you would have done your mother? Perhaps you’d slit my throat, as you’d considered for Will."

You don't like to be reminded of the evening your cowardice had shattered your just revenge like a spell, the hour that Will had taken you so spitefully against a wall behind which Hannibal had listened. Perhaps it would have been a kinder fate to have died for your attempt on him before you’d learned that there was no use in hatred against him any longer.

“You’d never let me kill you, Daddy," you say, aloud. "You’d kill me first, just like you said.”

“You’re stalling, Little One," says Hannibal, with a certain fondness. "Is it the honesty of the act that perturbs you? So much else in you is performance or secrecy; this, even in theatre, would be true to your desire.”

Exasperated, you set the blade down beside you, careful not to slit the cushions and induce Hannibal’s controlled wrath.

“I don’t want your blood on my hands. Or on my face. What if I swallowed it? There are calories in blood, and I don’t know how many.”

Hannibal’s brows rise.

“You’re serious.”

It’s certainly one reason for your hesitation, and you are more than happy for him to latch onto it if it gets you out of this sinister play of his.

“I worry about a lot of stuff like that,” you admit. “Gum. Toothpaste. I used to think maybe just smelling food would make me gain weight, but then sometimes I’d walk past restaurants or through the kitchen just to breathe the food in and pretend I’d eaten it. I’d watch cooking shows or make Pinterest boards of meals so I could look at them and eat them through my eyes.

“But I’m scared to have it touch my mouth. Even when I chew and spit food sometimes I get mad I even let myself go that far.”

“I wouldn’t allow you to spit any blood of mine,” says Hannibal. “You’ve already consumed parts of me; whatever change would come of it is already in motion.”

His semen, his saliva, particles of him altering you each time they pass the forbidden frontier of your throat— will they make you like him, you wonder, by the process of biological assimilation?

“You’re right,” you say. “And I’m scared of that, too.”

Hannibal takes your face in his hand, tracing the round of your cheek as he might some delicate ornament of glass.

“You’ve been driven by your experiences to view any sort of evolution in a negative light. I understand that, and so I don’t ask that you become identical to Will or I. That’s why we allow you to remain a child and manage all the responsibilities that would otherwise overwhelm and inhibit your progress. We would protect you with our lives if we had to.”

With shock you realise you believe him. The logic of their violence is beyond your comprehension in its uncertain borders, yet that they would guard you with it as surely as punish you cannot deny.

“Still, I don’t want you to be helpless,” Hannibal continues. “Try as we might, there are dangers even Will and I cannot anticipate or prepare for. It’s pertinent for you to possess the ability to defend yourself under those circumstances, should they ever occur. So, with the knife, please—"

“Not today, Daddy,” you interrupt, and again tuck the knife into one of his loose hands. “I’m too tired for this right now. But I’m wondering... if you were forced to kill me, even if you didn’t want to, where would you cut me?”

For a moment Hannibal’s face registers surprise, and you are almost proud that you are able to elicit this emotion in him. Then his free hand goes to your neck, holding your face at a distance from his before slowly enclosing your throat in its cravat.

“Here,” says Hannibal, in a husky undertone, and as he kisses you the blade falls away in place of a new hardness against you.

You feel Will’s returning presence as a dog does an intruder in the house, turning to see his glaring jealousy pierce the distance between you. Proud and resentful— and, perhaps, still uncertain of the sexual aspect of his obsession with Hannibal Lecter—he does not invite himself into the triad as he has done before.

He would rather abstain, sneer in absence of reconciliation, make an outsider of himself in the most unnecessary fashion.

“Is this a private moment?” Will asks as you reverse with a guilty velocity from Hannibal’s lap.

“Certainly not,” says Hannibal, pushing the knife out of sight. “How was your call with Beverly? Did she have anything of interest to say?”

Will, regarding you with an unreadable expression, only says, “We’ll talk about it later.”

Meaning after you’ve gone to bed, either disinclined to let you in on their private gossip or having judged what he has heard too foul even for your seasoned ears to perceive.

Whatever the case Will is choosing to hide something from you, and you do not like it.

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scoutswritingcorner · 10 months ago

Text

Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap

Alastor x GN!Reader

TW: Talks of murder, Alastor being Alastor. Alastor realized a lot of things.

A/N: I want to be buddies with this man. Was I listening to AC/DC….maybe, This started as a headcanon thing but it turned into something else. Enjoy!

Your friendship with Alastor.

You met Alastor when you both were alive! You somehow got his attention and then a year or two of you both annoying one another you’re good friends! Best friends even! He wouldn’t say that but you know it.

Both of you are such fucking menaces, while he is much more of a gentleman and very put together. You are somewhat the opposite. You are put together but it’s like you hate fancy dress clothes and you’d rather be running around with a gun in hand stealing from poor fools who didn’t look twice at you. He will forever chew you out for your thieving and how underdressed you are! Where are your manners and why are you laughing at him? He didn’t say anything funny! But he can’t help to think how your smile and laugh suits you.

You walked in on him while he was killing a poor fool one night and instead of running away and freaking out, you looked around and smirked “Can I steal his shit?” He rolled his eyes and waved his bloody hand towards you, “You can’t find anything else to do?” He snarled out easily killing the man below him, he could easily kill you but why would he need to now? You obviously didn’t care, “You know the saying, old friend. Another man’s trash is another man’s treasure~” You cooed out looking through the stuff on the fireplace mantle.

“Don’t make it so obvious.” He hissed out, looking around. “Were you followed?” He asked, making you stop and turn to him, hand on your chest. “Alastor! Are you doubting me? Here I thought you loved me.” You teased making him send you a half hearted glare, “Love is a strong word.” You rolled your eyes, “Right… No one dared to follow me.”

Another thing is when he had to hide bodies, you happily helped him and stood guard to make sure no one followed. He was grateful but he’d be caught redhanded before he said that to your face.

Once he died, you were inconsolable for weeks on end until you crossed paths with some unfortunate souls who sadly got you good before their death. You bled out in some alley way near his favorite speakeasy, you wouldn’t be found until the morning.

BUT IN HELL-

You were an uncontrollable force to be reckoned with, you still kept your spirits high especially when you got a little tipsy or the money was good enough. It took decades for your ass to find Alastor, you were so caught up in your own adventures you just forgot about finding your best friend. Until it got boring and you saw a flier for the ‘Hazbin Hotel’...it couldn’t hurt to look for him there, besides he was fucked up and he could be there to see everything fall to pieces.

So when you arrived and you saw the tall deer man, his smile stretching wider into the grin you could tell from a mile away. “Oh it’s you,” He hummed, making you roll your eyes. “Oh please, Alastor. Don’t act like you weren’t excited to see me. Who else would be able to deal with your insane ass,” You replied looking around, “You missed me, don’t you dare deny that fact.” He scoffed and rolled his eyes. “I’m not denying anything, Old friend. I just simply thought you wouldn’t look for me.” He walked over, circling you to see if anything changed or was he trying to find a weak point? “See you keep thinking that and I keep reminding you that you are stuck with me forever, there is no escaping that.”

He’s happy you found him but he’s got to keep up appearances, later that night you're sitting with him in the parlor sipping on some whiskey he grabbed from the bar as you tell him all of your stories. It goes silent for a while and it’s comfortable for some part. “How did you die?” He asked one moment and it truthfully caught you off guard. “...Like you said, I’ll get too confident and end up dying on the streets.” You whispered the alcohol on your tongue tastes gross now. He didn’t gloat, or if he was he was doing it silently, “Tried to go after a rich fella. He had a gun and got me good in the stomach that was before I killed him, ran off before I could take anything. Died in an alley near your favorite speakeasy. Guess I was looking for you even after all this time.” You looked down at the glass and sighed, he was too silent for your liking but he was always like that. Why did it affect you now?

He didn’t say much the rest of the night or the next morning. Only gave you a nod when you’d left.

Alastor couldn’t control you much like he could with Husk and Nifty, he couldn’t drag you along with his shenanigans. He could try but it would fail. You were a creature of habit and a stubborn one at that. You left by a certain time to get your fill of thieving, killing and messing with people before coming back to him.

Yet, you still wore that smile on your face and laughed as loudly as you could when something was funny enough for you. He wasn’t used to that, people should be miserable down in this cesspool. But you weren’t why weren’t you miserable? It was something that plagued him all night long.

He adored your smile and laughter.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel imagine #gn reader #alastor x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x you #hazbin hotel alastor x reader

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ttrpg-smash-pass-vs · 4 months ago

Note

for some reason very suprised the hellhound didn't pass and now i'm intrigued about where the multitude of werewolf fuckers and gnoll lovers draw the line... is it just the two legs? wearing clothes? is a hellhound not just a gnoll without opposable thumbs? how different is it from a werewolf in its transformed state? obviously the human that it normally is would be (somewhat) more intelligent, and i could definitely see that making a difference, but don't many werewolf transformers result in a less coherent or controlled state that would be very comparable to a hellhound? if the hellhound isn't intelligent enough for them, do they also consider fucking a transformed werewolf akin to having sex with an inebriated person unable to give consent? much to think about 🤔🤔🤔

It's a rare day indeed, where I get to be the one who isn't overcomplicating things. Now don't get me wrong, the quadrapedal nature (or just directly looking like an animal) always makes a big difference for some. That is where many draw the line. It's a similar to where some draw the line for, say, the 1000 year old loli trope. The general idea being "idc if they're mature and able to consent, they still LOOK like something that can't, so I'm not attracted and am often suspicious of those who are."

But the simple answer is just that people don't like putting their genitals into fire. Any creature who is on fire immediately loses quite a few points because people don't want to roast thier dick like a sausage, and you can see the creature's insides glowing through thier skin from heat.

#not tournament #answers

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gortash-did-nothing-wrong · 8 months ago

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Feral 3

Minors Do Not Interact!!!

Warnings: pregnancy, violence, murder (but it's the Baron so yay), mentions of the Baron being a pedo, mentions of Feyd being a victim of the Barons.

Feyd had a new issue with Friz. Ever since he had begun helping Y/N with the little beast, holding him securely while Y/N clipped his nails, frimmed the fur around his paws and butt, and held him in the bath water while Y/N scrubbed the filth and loose hair off of him, the shedding had become so much less of an issue. Feyd had even found a setting on the shower head that Friz actually enjoyed against his throat. With a lot of patience, an absurd amount of chicken liver treats, and many close calls by cat claws, Friz was… somewhat tamed. The cat didn't like getting his nails trimmed, of course, but Feyd and Friz has come to an understanding. Feyd trimmed exactly one of his claws every day, and Friz got a freshly fried chicken liver with catnip sprinkles for his troubles.

Y/N had been shocked at the improvement in her pet. "I thought he was too old to be tamed properly." She admitted.

"How old is he, exactly?" Feyd asked.

"About sixteen." She said. "I got him when he was a feral kitten, I was about five. He was passed being bottle fed, so he didn't bond with me right away. It took weeks of work for him to even eat in front of me."

Feyd hummed to himself, wondering why anyone would even put that amount of time into a cat.

"Oh, by the way, I saw the doctor today." Y/N said casually. "He ran some tests, and it turns out I'm pregnant."

Feyd felt his face go blank. "What?"

--------

Y/N's pregnancy was… rough. Her cravings were for fresh fruit and cheese, things they didn't get often on Giedi Prime. Meat made her nauseous, something his uncle made constant jokes about. The bastard even hinted that Feyd's child might come out anemic and weak.

Ah, right, speaking of his uncle. Obviously the second Feyd realized his wife was pregnant, Vladimir couldn't go on living. Other than the fact Feyd hated the man, his baby might be a boy. And the idea of the Baron being on the same planet as a son of Feyd's, with his disgusting appetite for young boys was unacceptable. The Baron had a rather unfortunate accident. His normal nightly routine of smoking spice and soaking in his tub took a rather unfortunate turn. He indulged a tad bit too much, got a bit too dizzy, and drowned in his tub. The old man's body was so large it took a half dozen slaves to pull him out of the tub, even after it was drained.

Feyd inherited the throne, and life went on. Y/N looked practically ethereal with a baby bump and a crown on her head as she sat on her throne beside Feyd. The crown was only for the initial ceremony of course, neither of them could be bothered with dressing in ceremonial clothing every day.

Especially Y/N. Her pregnancy seemed to get rougher by the day. Morning sickness from the earlier months turned into near constant aches and pains in her back and legs. Feyd wasn't sure how women without servants survived their pregnancies. Who helped them tie their shoes? Their husbands? They must. Y/N's feet swelled so much, most days she didn't even bother with shoes. He came back to their newly renovated quarters (because even if Feyd wanted the bigger set of rooms his uncle had left behind after his death, he certainly didn't want any of the man's stench hanging around. Feyd had the place gutted and new floors and walls installed. Y/N had picked out the paint, of course.) to find her sitting on the couch with her feet propped up on an ottoman. Feyd tried to comfort her as best he could, but other than having the servants draw her a bath or bring in a foot tub for her feet to soak, there wasn't much to be done.

Thankfully she just seemed to want him to be close to her. And by the stars did he want to be right next to her all the time. His hand seemed to be permanently fixed to her belly, and he'd grin excitedly anytime he felt a kick from his son. Yes, his son. The doctor had confirmed it, and Feyd was both delighted and devastated. He had secretly hoped for a girl out of some misguided belief that it would be easier. Some vague idea that if his child was a girl then he wouldn't see himself reflected in her as much. So he wouldn't have some happier version of himself taunting him about what his childhood could have been.

But when he truly sat down to think about raising his son, Feyd found the idea soothing. No one would rip his son from Y/N's arms and take them away to a house of horrors. No one would mistreat him the way Feyd had been mistreated. His son would never doubt he was loved and cared for.

Y/N had commented on it over snacks one night. Nightly snacks might be his favorite part of pregnancy if he was being honest. Y/N always seemed to have a plate of something nearby and he was always offered some.

"I think it will be healing for you." She said, munching on a few strawberries. "Raising a little mini you, with all your mannerisms. And those beautiful eyes of yours."

Feyd chuckled, his face pressed against her belly as he felt his son kicking at his face. "He has strength, that's for sure. His kicks are getting stronger every day."

"Painful, too." Y/N said, wincing after a particularly strong kick from her baby.

Feyd turned back to her belly, patting it gently. "Easy now, my boy. Don't bother your mother so. She deserves rest after a long day of making you."

A little paw swatted at his nose. Ah. Right. His new problem. Friz stared at Feyd until Feyd sat up, removing himself from Y/Ns belly. The cat immediately started his nightly routine of massaging Y/Ns belly with his little paws, kneading at the baby bump for a few minutes before curling up and purring on it.

Y/N smiled, "It's like he's trying to keep them warm."

"We have blankets." Feyd said dryly, unhappy to have been chased from his wife's belly by a cat.

"It's instinct to him." His wife said, trying to soothe him by taking his face in her hands and peppering little kisses all over his cheeks. "Now, have a snack and tell me about your day."

Feyd took the bowl of strawberries from her, laying back against the headboard and sighing. "I've had such a day."

#feyd rautha #dune #feyd rautha harkonnen #feyd x reader #dad feyd #feyd rautha harkonnen imagine #feyd rautha imagine #the baron dies #good

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spiderlilydreams · 6 days ago

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I forgot I also had this in my notes. It was inspired by the Feitan fanart of him in an IHop uniform. Emo waiter Feitan. >///< I don't own the fanart, but I added some other pictures to it for a mood. I'm sorry if the grammar is bad. This is a real-life au fanfiction. I'm always so nervous posting because I don't proof read enough T.T

_________________________________________

Warning: +18 Smut! No minors interact!

_________________________________________

Emo IHop Feitan 🖤______________________

You were on a long road trip with your friends. Just you, Machi, Pakunada, and Shizuku screaming early 2000's jammers and gossiping about your ex's. Machi had just gotten out of a toxic relationship with her now ex Hisoka. Pakunada hearing the news decided you all needed a girls trip.

This was the last night on the road, and Pakunada of course was driving, like she usually does. She's known as the responsible mom friend, and honestly the four of you needed her, and she needed you all. You were thankful she planned the trip, since your life was draining you, every day looking the same.

The city lights dazzled your vision as Machi half asleep leaned her head on your shoulder, snoring softly. You stared out the window as blinding headlights flew by you, and buildings rose and fell with each passing frame. You didn't want the trip to end. You sort of wished it'd last forever, and that you could spend the rest of your life just giggling with your friends on a road trip, but you knew you couldn't.

"Anyone want Ihop?" Shizuku suddenly announced, breaking you away from your bittersweet thoughts. Machi suddenly jumped awake at this, a beaming smile on her face.

"IHop sounds so fucking good right now." Machi said, rubbing her eyes as she tried to wake up from her nap.

"I can't believe you want IHop, when Denny's is so much better." Pakunada interrupted, checking traffic as she merged into another lane. She always drove so smooth and elegant.

"Of course the old lady prefers Denny's~" Shizuku teased, causing Pakunada to playfully roll her eyes.

"Excuse me, more like I have taste." Pakunada responded, obviously not offended by the playful interaction. "Fine ladies, IHop it is." Pakunada finally sighed.

All of you tired and in cozy road trip clothes stumbled into the IHop, looking a mess, but not caring. Except Pakunada, who of course looked somehow elegant in her yoga pants, which she always complained were too informal. As you entered the building that smelt of sweet syrup and warm coffee, you noticed a certain attractive waiter coming over to seat all of you. He didn't say anything, just nodded at all of you, walking you to the closest booth avaliable. He had black hair with bangs, a black mask covering his lower face only revealing his bored looking eyes, and a name tag with 'Feitan' on it. You blushed as you made eye contact with him, him slightly... glaring at you? It was hard for you to tell. Even though he was short, like he couldn't be taller than 5'2 you guessed, you felt drawn in by him.

"Orders?" He asked in a raspy, unique voice making your heart speed up. You eyed your friends, trying to see their reactions, but it seemed only you were feeling so attracted to this emo waiter in IHop. As your friends ordered, you tried thinking of what to get, but it was hard to think.

You ended up just getting the same order as Machi, and as everyone waited you decided to head to the bathroom, in search of Feitan. You didn't really know how to go about your attraction. Nerves came over you as you thought about asking for his socials or number, you didn't want to embarrass yourself. As you went to open the women's bathroom door, Feitan left the men's, looking at you for a moment. You felt frozen as Feitan approached you.

"You from here?" He asked, his way of speaking unique as you looked at him shyly, blushing somewhat.

"N-No, we're on a girls road trip." You said, your eyes widening as Feitan got closer to you, inches away from your face.

"I'm off work. Hang out with me before I never see you again?" He asked, it almost sounding like a plea, your eyes getting lost in his now more playful looking eyes.

"I-I- have to go back to my friends soon." You said nervously, a bit upset that you didn't meet Feitan closer to your home, and instead on a road trip.

"We just hang for a little then?" He asked, his eyes darting to your lips as you bit your bottom lip, debating.

Somehow all previous events led you to being on Feitan's lap, his thick cock deep in your warm, silky cunt, as he fucked you roughly in the backseat of his car in the IHop parking lot. You bit on his shoulder as moans escaped your lips, your pussy squelching as Feitan thrust his twitching member deeper and deeper inside you. His uniform was still on, and your pajama shorts were flung somewhere, you both almost animalistic as you fucked, the car's windows fogging up, it shaking a bit. No one would be able to tell as it was a black car with tinted windows, but you still tried to conceal your moans as your pussy clenched around Feitan's cock. Feitan reached down with black painted fingernails, flicking and rubbing your clit, trying to help you come undone. That you did, so aggressively, that you ended up squirting on Feitan's backseat, your pussy clenching so tight it milked Feitan's length, making Feitan pull you up, his cock throbbing out ropes of thick warm semen all over your still pulsing cunt, both of you a mess. You both panted as you collapsed together, both of your hearts racing.

"Need your number." Feitan sighed in satisfaction, pulling you against him to hug you.

#feitan x reader #feitan porter x reader #feitan x reader smut #feitan porter x reader smut #hunter x hunter x reader #phantom troupe x reader #feitan

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galexystern · 1 year ago

Text

all's fair in love and chicken

pairing; eddie munson/reader

rating; T

warnings; lots of fluff, a tiny bit of angst, love confessions, pining, getting together

word count; 2.1k

desc; robin and steve dare you and eddie to a game of girls vs. boys chicken. eddie has something up his sleeve that changes everything.

masterlist

The first thing you see after stepping inside the Harrington mansion is Robin looking guilty as sin. It makes you uneasy, and you immediately want to walk over and demand what the fuck that expression is for, but it’s the annual pool party bash and you’re carrying the first bottles of booze its seen and Steve is already ushering you to the backyard so you can set them down on the makeshift bar.

“Thank god you’re here,” he mutters under his breath. “People have been clamoring for drinks for half an hour.”

“Only like a fourth of them can legally drink,” you point out. When you reach the table, he helps you unload and set up so guests can pour their own concoction.

“And they’re bossy as fuck.”

You laugh, half-forgetting Robin’s mysterious guilt, and arrange the liquor just so. Steve excuses himself and runs into the house to get ice, and another boy almost instantly takes his place.

“Hey, princess,” Eddie says, surprising you and making you knock a bottle of vodka over. He deftly catches it and stands it upright.

You turn to him with a look. He’s grinning devilishly, loving that he spooked you. You’re notoriously easy to startle, and despite the fact that you’re secretly in love with him and have been for two years, the trick got old a long time ago. You hold back the smile threatening to bloom and narrow your eyes in annoyance. Eddie’s eyes get wider in response, doe-like, and his mouth turns down into the cutest pout. After a few seconds, you sigh and finally grin, forgiving him quickly. It’s a tried-and-true routine you two have done since you became friends.

“Hi, Eds,” you reply, hoping your lovesickness doesn’t ooze too obviously. You always think you sound so gooey, but he’s never picked up on it. This time is no different.

“Get you a drink?”

“Yes, please. Our usual.”

“One Munson Special coming up.”

You chuckle and take a few steps away to claim a free beach chair. You set your bag down and shuck off your clothes, stuffing them away. You test your bare feet on the concrete, but it’s too hot, so you keep your flip-flops on for now.

“Here you go–”

You spin around in concern as the end of Eddie’s sentence turns into a choked sound. You find him staring at you with huge eyes and a slightly open mouth. You move closer to him. “Are you okay?” You ask worriedly.

He blinks and then nods jerkily, practically throwing your cup at you. You avoid the liquid that splashes over the edge and take it carefully. You’re still looking at Eddie, unsure what could be wrong, but he just swallows and smiles reassuringly. “Something in my throat,” he explains, and you exhale in relief.

“Good. You can’t choke here otherwise Steve will be the one doing CPR.”

He barks out a laugh. “I’d sooner die.”

Your mouth twists, wanting to smile but holding back somewhat. “Be nice,” you chide half-heartedly. “He’s our friend now.”

He makes a disgruntled face. “I guess.” You look at him with petulant sternness and his expression softens. “I’ll try. Only for you, princess.”

Your heart flutters and you take a gulp of your drink to hide your quick breaths. He can’t just say things like that. He takes a sip as well, and you two settle into a comfortable silence. You take a look around the party, watching as the kids splash around and play Marco Polo in the pool, and eyeing as Steve and Robin bicker while she throws obvious longing glances at Vickie, who is sitting with her feet in the water and both pretending not to notice and trying not to blush. Nancy and Jonathan are sitting in the hot tub, having what seems to be a lively discussion with Jeff, Grant, and Gareth. Hopper, Joyce, and the rest of the adults are at the back, manning the grill and pointedly avoiding the shenanigans everyone else is getting into.

You turn back to Eddie to find him looking at you. Your head rears back a little, not expecting his gaze, and he quickly averts his eyes and takes a drink. A light blush spreads across his cheeks and towards his ears. You want to pull his hair away from his face to see if the tips are red as well, but keep your hands to yourself.

You’re admiring how tan he’s looking, the deep tone of his skin gleaming golden, when Robin shouts your name from across the patio. Both you and Eddie turn towards her; she’s speed-walking over with an annoyed Steve in tow. “Dingus here thinks we can’t beat him and Eddie in chicken,” she says when she arrives.

You blink. “What?”

“The game chicken, where two people fight while on the shoulders of other people?”

“Okay,” you reply slowly.

“Steve thinks boys would ‘obviously’ win over girls.” You raise your eyebrows at him and he shrugs, shy now that his and Robin’s argument has involved more than just them. Robin continues, “‘Obviously’ he’s wrong. But he won’t accept it until you and Eddie actually join us for a round.”

You glance at Eddie, who shoots you a grin. “I’m down if you are, princess,” he says cheekily.

At his smug tone, your competitive spirit comes alive. You look at Robin and nod. “Let’s wipe the floor with them.”

She whoops and drags you both to the pool. She and Steve slide in and stand at the edge so you and Eddie can sit on their shoulders. There’s a lump in your throat when you swallow; you didn’t think it’d be you two on top and fighting so close. But you can’t back out now, so you just focus on balancing as Robin walks further in.

She turns and there Eddie is, smiling mischievously, surprisingly stable atop Steve. His eyes sparkle in the sun and his tattoos stand out like they’re three-dimensional. You lock stares, and he runs a finger across his neck in a threat. Your eyes narrow as you mouth, You’re going down.

“Alright, are we ready?” Steve asks, sickly sweet. It’s purely for Robin’s sake, and she immediately replies, “Go!”

You lunge forward and grab Eddie’s biceps, his hands clamping onto yours. You grapple, pushing and pulling in any effort to destabilize the other, Robin and Steve compensating for your movements below. It’s a tough battle, but at some point, you’re leaning all the way into Eddie’s space and he’s precariously teetering backwards. You feel a triumphant smile start to form when he does the unexpected.

He kisses you.

It’s a soft, short peck, but it shocks you so much that you fall back, all the way off Robin’s shoulders and into the water. Once you’re submerged, it’s like time slows down, and you try to comprehend that Eddie just kissed you.

Eddie kissed you.

All to win this stupid game.

“That was definitely cheating!” Robin is yelling when you surface, inhaling oxygen desperately and pushing your hair out of your face.

“It was not!” Steve shouts back. “All’s fair!”

The two continue to argue, and you look at Eddie. He’s mysteriously quiet but half-grinning, and your fury grows. You stalk away–as much as you can while underwater–and pull yourself out of the pool. You detour to your chair to grab your towel, and then you’re racing inside, up the stairs to Steve’s guest room, where you’ve stayed a couple times after late nights. You slam the door shut behind you and sit on the bed, not caring if you’re dripping on the duvet.

You’re shaken and upset, and you can’t believe Eddie would do something like that to win a game of chicken. If you didn’t like him romantically, it would be misleading and give the wrong idea, and Robin was right–it is cheating.

A knock comes on the door, and it slowly swings open to reveal the man himself. “Princess? Are you okay?” You just glare at him in response, and he steps inside and closes the door behind him. “What’s wrong? Did you inhale water?”

If you weren’t so upset, you’d be touched by his concern. “You’re a fucking asshole,” you seethe. “I can’t believe you would do that just to win. That’s such gross bro behavior.”

He’s wide-eyed. “What? No, I’d never do that.”

“You just did!”

“No!” He runs a hand over his face. “That’s not why I did it.”

“Then why?” You grit out.

“Well, Robin told me that you liked me–”

You suddenly remember Robin’s face from the beginning of the party and understand. She’d blabbed to Eddie that you were in love with him and felt guilty for doing so. Well, she fucking should.

“That’s worse!” Your face burns in embarrassment and anger. “You used my feelings against me to win instead. Real nice.”

“Will you listen to me?” Eddie pleads. “I didn’t believe her, you’re way out of my league, but I couldn’t stop thinking about it. And when we were playing, you were so close and you smelled so good and your lips looked so nice, I couldn’t help myself and kissed you.” His entire face is tomato red. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to make you lose. I wasn’t even thinking about the game, just you.”

“I don’t understand. Are you saying you like me now?”

“Now? I’ve been in love with you for two years, princess. I just didn’t think you’d like me back.”

You stare at him. “What?”

“Yeah.” He sighs. “I’m sorry. I can leave.”

But before he can turn away, you’re leaping forward and pulling him into a heated kiss. He’s surprised by it, stiff and still, and you think wildly that you’ve finally gotten him back for scaring you all those times. Eventually, his brain catches up and he melts, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you flush against him. His lips are soft and warm, and it’s leagues better than the kiss in the pool, and you don’t want to stop but you’ve gotta breathe at some point. You two break apart panting, gazing at each other for a minute until you both burst into laughter. Your foreheads meet as you shake with it, and when the giggles fade away you’re still resting against each other.

“You’re an idiot,” you tell him fondly, and he chuckles. “I’ve been in love with you for two years too. I thought I was so obvious about it.”

“No, you’re right. I’m just an idiot,” he replies, making you snort. “But I could tell after Robin told me.”

“That doesn’t count! If she hadn’t, you still wouldn’t know.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

You’re about to argue some more when he captures your mouth again, and you sink into the kiss. You run your hands through his hair, pulling inadvertently, and he moans a little. You pull away with a smile, hands poised to do it again, but he holds them still.

“Don’t give me a boner at a pool party,” he begs. “I’d never live it down.”

You laugh. “Alright. Only for you, Eds.”

He smiles softly. “I love you, princess.”

“I love you too,” you reply with heart eyes at full power.

He steps back. “We really gotta go back now, or I will have a boner for the rest of the night.”

You shake your head with a grin and take his outstretched hand. You two walk downstairs and out to the backyard, where the festivities are in full swing. Steve and Robin are near the doors, still bickering. When she spots you, she gasps your name.

“Are you okay?” She asks worriedly.

You nod. “I’m fine. But we will be talking later.” She blushes and that guilty expression returns. But then she sees your hand intertwined with Eddie’s and it retreats somewhat. She smiles triumphantly, and you can already tell your stern talking-to will go in one ear and out the other. “And,” you continue, “I want a rematch.”

“Let’s do it!” Eddie shouts and pulls you towards the pool. He pushes you in, but you hold tight to his hand and drag him under with you. Once Steve and Robin have joined, you maneuver yourselves on their shoulders. You and Eddie make playful threatening motions, you wrestle heatedly, and then there’s cheering from you and Robin as the boys topple backwards into the water. They surface, spluttering from the impact, and Eddie immediately goes after you. You screech with laughter as you weakly attempt to run from him, and he catches you around the waist and lifts you above the water. You squeal with the movement, and after lowering you, he kisses you. You beam with love in the summer sun.

#eddie munson x reader #mine #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #eddie munson x you

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