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darklcy · 15 days
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good morning! i have a few updates!
it was my birthday recently, so i am now 23 which is AHHH
i’ve been busy with work and life, so that explains why i’ve been MIA
I miss writing :( id love to take requests if anyone has any, and i’d love to continue altruistic as well
hope y’all have been good!!
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darklcy · 15 days
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either way / no doubt
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a/n: either way and no doubt by Odie Leigh have been on repeat currently and I relate to them so heavily so I word vomited on a Google docs. its a little rushed but oh well LMAO (I'm also always writing with a plus sized reader in mind)
cw: over thinker fem!reader, autistic coded reader, not knowing how to enter into a first serious relationship, kind lover boy!Eddie, no use of y/n
wc: 2.1k
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It is the beginning of Spring when she meets Eddie Munson. Genuinely meets him, not just sees him around town and wonders what it’s like to be in his orbit. Working at the local diner, she sees him and his group of friends often. She’s served them a couple times, and they’re always respectful - albeit rambunctious. They tip well, stack their dishes for the busboys to clear, wave to her on the way out. 
It’s the day Eddie comes in by himself that marks it as different, new. He sits in her section of the diner, glances her way and then averts his gaze when she meets it. That’s odd, but she doesn’t think much else of it. Not until the end of his meal - consisting of a solitary cup of coffee and a slice of apple pie - does he stop her when she checks to see if he needs anything. 
He asks if she’d want to hang out sometime, and she laughs - a forced exhale of nerves. He asks why she’s laughing, and she doesn’t know what to say. After a few moments of awkward silence, she relents and shrugs. What would we do? He says anything she wants. What if she doesn’t know what she wants to do? He says they’ll figure it out together. 
They end up sitting in the back of Eddie’s van, the open doors facing Lover’s Lake. She’s fidgety, and stumbling over her words. He keeps staring at her when she talks and she’s not used to anybody doing this much work to stay focused on her and what she has to say, especially because she’s not saying much of substance. He asks her so many questions, and mundane ones at that. How are classes at the community college? What’s your major? She answers as best she can. 
The feeling of someone looking at her makes her skin crawl. She doesn’t know what to do with her hands, she’s uncomfortably aware of the position of her nose on her face, which seems incredibly silly, and then she’s thinking about just how silly that is when he asks her if she’s alright. 
“Sorry?”
“I was just asking if you felt alright. It looked like you went away for a second there,” Eddie ducks his head down to catch her line of sight. Eye contact has always been difficult for her, but this is different - warm - like sunshine. “I know I’m not the most exciting person to talk to, but I hope you’re having a good time. I enjoy talking to you.” 
“I’m here, sorry. I like talking to you too.”
“You don’t have to apologize, it’s okay.”
“Sorry. Oh-” She sucks in a breath and places her hand over her mouth, eyes wide at the realization of her mistake. He giggles, a sweet boyish sound, and it warms his face. She thinks she could love that face, if he let her. If she knew how. She laughs too, despite herself. “It’s a bad habit. I really have to stop apologizing so much.” 
He’s still smiling when he says it’s okay, he understands. 
Later, when he drops her off at her apartment, the sun has gone down. The ride he’d offered her is relatively quiet. It’s a strange thing, to see the way someone adjusts themself around you. The usual loud heavy metal is absent here. The fast driving and sharp turns are traded in for complying with the speed limit, graceful steering and soft brakes. When he looks at her, she directs her gaze out the window - when she looks at him, he is focused on the road. 
He stops her as she takes off her seatbelt and goes to open the door, jumping out of his own and running around the front of the van to open it for her. She leads him to her front door, and he asks if he can see her again, if he can have her number. She nods, and rummages around her purse for a few frantic seconds before finding her waitress notepad and pen. When she rips the page out that she’s written her number on and hands it to him, he clutches it to his chest and smiles.  
“I’ll call you when I get home, if that’s okay. Just to let you know I made it back safely.”
“And if I want to keep talking to you?”
“We can talk for as long as you want to.” 
“Okay.” 
Eddie walks backwards for a few seconds, keeping his eyes locked on hers, paper still against his heart. By the time he’s made it back to his van, he lifts a hand up for a short wave goodbye, and turns to face the vehicle. 
Now or never. 
“Eddie?” In true Munson fashion, he whips around completely at the sound of her calling out to him. 
“Yeah, sweets?” 
“I just wanted to tell you I had a really nice time with you today. I can’t wait for you to call me later.” She tucks her hair behind her ears, needing to do something with her hands to offset the nausea brought about by her impulsive vulnerability. He smiles wider, if that’s even possible. 
“I’m glad you had a good time. I’ve been wanting to ask you out forever, Gareth and the guys kept busting my balls about it. I promise I’ll call when I get home.” 
She nods, her eyes tracking his steps as he makes it to his car. She watches him drive off. It feels so strange, this immediate wanting him to come back, wanting him to come inside and crawl into her brain. To know her fully. It scares her in a way she’s incredibly unused to. When she can’t hear the music blasting from his speakers anymore, she makes her way inside and slumps against the door for a few seconds. 
He does call when he gets home, and they talk until the sun rises. 
__
They spend the next few days talking on the phone. It’s easier like this, she thinks. She doesn’t have to worry about the way she looks when she’s thinking of something to say. She doesn’t have to avoid his white hot gaze, the way she can feel it trail over her face when she’s speaking. If he notices how much more she opens up to him when they’re not actively sitting next to each other, he doesn’t mention it. 
When they’re not on the phone, he clings to her brainspace like moss on a tree. She can’t stop thinking about him, to the point she’s worried she’s obsessing over something that isn’t there. He’d said he had a good time, he said he enjoyed talking to her, so why does it keep bothering  her so much? He feels safe. He does feel safe, but she’s not used to conversations with no expectations. No guise, no hidden agenda. If he notices the way she starts to pull away due to her overthinking, her sentences shorter and stunted, he doesn’t mention it. He carries on as usual, calling her to talk about what he’d done that day. It makes her smile. 
When he asks, unprompted, if he can see her again, she says yes. 
__
They go to the lake again. It is an early March morning, the last tendrils of Winter still grasping desperately for some kind of recognition against early Spring. He brings a blanket and hot cocoa for both of them, and she feels it in her chest - warm and sweet and chocolatey, like his eyes. It’s easier this time, talking to him. She spends less time worried about her posture and cadence - more time really listening to him speak and trying her hardest to maintain eye contact. 
The early morning breeze makes ripples on the otherwise still surface of the water. It’s so beautiful. He’s so beautiful. He’s so expressive when he speaks. She used to think he was careless, jumping on tables and riling up the people he knew didn’t like him. Seeing him up close like this, she realizes it’s kind of the opposite. It’s careful, planned, the way he uses his hands, his eyes. Even when he’s talking about a book he's read a million times, she feels like she's there among the scenery and characters he describes. It’s entirely captivating. She wants to be more like him. Carefully carefree. 
She’s never done this kind of thing - the relationship kind of thing. If that’s what this is, she has no idea how to traverse this new terrain. She can’t find her footing, she doesn’t know what the formula is, what the proper way to go about it looks like. She doesn’t think about sounding weird when she asks:
“What are we doing?” 
Eddie pauses mid sip, brings the cup back down to his lap. 
“Currently? Or like, with our lives?” He chuffs out a little laugh. Not in a teasing way, though it's hard for her to differentiate. “Because currently, from my perspective at least, I’m sitting in my van with a pretty girl talking about our favorite books. What I’m doing with my life is something a lot of people, including me, would really like to know.” 
Levity, she recognizes. 
“Sorry if it's a weird question, I just…” She trails off, breaking eye contact, looking at her hands in her lap. He scoots forward a bit, the side of his thigh touching hers as their legs dangle off the back of the van. He doesn’t push her to say anything, doesn’t acknowledge the unneeded apology, doesn’t fill the silence with his own voice.  He just waits, patiently. She doesn’t think she’s ever seen him sit this still. 
“I really like you, and I really like talking to you. I’ve never done anything like this,” She uses her pointer finger to gesture between the two of them, drawing a connecting line between their bodies, “I don’t know how to, if that makes sense. I’m not really a lot of people’s type, I guess.” 
“Hey, look at me,” Eddie sets the cup down next to him and very gently takes her hand, locks their fingers together. When she raises her eyes to meet his, he continues. “There’s no rush, I mean it. You set the pace here, okay? I like you, like a lot. If all you wanna do is sit here and talk, I’m totally fine with that. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”  
“Yeah?” 
“Yeah, sweets.” 
“What if you find out how weird I am and decide you don’t want to talk to me anymore?” 
At this, Eddie relinquishes his grip on her hand, hops down from the lip of the back of the van, and stands in front of her. 
“Y’know who you’re talking to?” two thumbs pointed towards himself - eyebrows raised, mouth quirked in a goofy grin, “King of the freaks, misfits, and ne'er do wells. I don’t think you could scare me off, but you’re certainly welcome to try.” 
“So just… be myself?” She scrunches her face up - the idea of being genuine is almost totally foreign to her. 
“Be yourself!” 
“Ew. Yeah, alright, fine.” She sighs in resignation and shrugs a shoulder. Doesn’t think about how convincing he is, or how willing she was to drop some of her defenses. Carefully carefree. She can do it. 
They share a laugh, finishing their luke-warm cocoa together and talking until the sun is high in the sky and the temperature rises too high for them to ignore any longer. This time, the drive home is less quiet. She meets his gaze when he looks over at her from the driver’s seat, she hums along to the sound of the radio, it's nice. Comfortable. 
Just like last time, Eddie hastens to run around the van and open her door for her. He extends a hand to help her down and out, and they stay connected on the short journey to her apartment’s front door. Eddie watches while she digs the keys out of her purse, unlocking the door and leading the both of them inside for a drink. He kicks his shoes off by the welcome mat, and they look like they belong there. 
It is the beginning of Spring when Eddie Munson permanently plants himself in her life, a steadfast source of comfort and nourishment. It is hard for her, and it takes longer than most for her to truly open up. To show him all the nooks and crannies of her mind. He takes it all in stride - her overthinking, her quirks and neuroses. He shows her that it is entirely impossible to trust someone enough to take part in the watering and flowering - that it's not a weight she has to hold alone. She can bloom.
__
if you enjoyed this story please like and reblog!!
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darklcy · 3 months
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☆ 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐧! 𝐀𝐎𝐓 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ☆
this has been in the drafts for a long, long time and i haven’t posted aot in a while, so enjoy :) | also i feel like some of these may be ooc but this was fun to write! just keep in mind this is how i think they’d act in a modern setting, ofc minus the war & trauma
attack on titan masterlist
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𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍
skips class to vape
smokes to thundercat & nirvana
flannels flannels flannels
naturally you steal them. acts coy when you do.
“you didn’t steal it, i just let you wear it and didn’t say anything when you went home with it.”
i feel like he’d be into meditating. idk why. like someone said he should do it so now he does a quick 5-min guided meditation every morning
showers with his chain on and gets green neck
doodles on his converse and yours
writes “hi :)” on your homework, journals, notes, etc during class
has a minecraft server w jean, connie and armin
claims he’s not scared of games like outlast or silent hill but everyone knows he’s lying
ends up hiding behind you in haunted houses
LOVES DRIVE THRUS/FAST FOOD. sonic & in n out specifically
toddler sense of humor, like finds things falling over funny (y’all remember the video of the piece of bread falling over-)
doesn’t know how to work pinterest
leans over people’s shoulders to look at their phones
tried getting his cartilage pierced but it got infected
has a few tattoos on his wrists and bicep
will bite you impulsively
𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍
you mean my bf
so this boy DOES know how to work pinterest, and has so many boards
one of them is filled w future pets he wants & another one includes house ideas with you :3
is the best language learner and knows french, spanish, and german
can’t watch gory shows like squid game or the walking dead, but enjoys psychological horrors like black swan
has a billion playlists with like 6 songs each
your playlist is titled “lovey” bc i said so
has maybe one lobe piercing. but only one
he goes so hard to TV girl and mac demarco, but also loves singers like sza & jack stauber
LUVS SMOOTHIES
downloaded bumble only for the fun of it once but immediately deleted it when someone liked him
bounces his leg and picks his nails
best. skin. ever. has a good skin care regime
drives a silver toyota prius 
super into journaling & drawing :>
such a gentle bf, but lives for gossip
you text him, “you will NOT believe what i just heard.” and he drops everything he’s doing to respond
coffee dates!!!
you two have a stardew farm together with a dog and a bunch of chickens and cows
his favorite character is crobus
i love him very much
𝐌𝐈𝐊𝐀𝐒𝐀
hardcore alison from breakfast club vibes
secretly into girl kpop groups
but loves hardcore women, like björk & poppy
definitely owns a lot of platform shoes: has like three pairs of demonias
shaves her brows to draw them on 
loves online shopping from aliexpress & etsy
into weird chunky jewelry!! has a necklace with a heavy cat pendant & a pair of eyeball earrings
loves to do your makeup! if you don’t wear a lot daily, she’ll do something for special outings like concerts or even for fun she’ll ask you to let her do it :3
has a tiktok specifically for ootds
favorite foods include spicy ramen, mediterranean meals & ice cream
i feel like she’d be in art class! she’d draw you random portraits or cute versions of you two to put in her scrapbook
oh yeah i also feel like she’d have a scrapbook!!! and keeps a lot of mementos from your dates/hangouts
when you come over, you, her and eren play mario kart
no doubt a spiritual girly: maybe not super into spells but has a tarot deck and a few oracle decks as well as a beautiful incense burner
you two go to goth clubs cuz yeah
her lipstick gets on you all the time
dressed up as lydia deetz one year for halloween
makes rings and necklaces and gives them to you, and she debates on opening an etsy shop
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— hope you enjoyed!
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darklcy · 3 months
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trying something new! gonna start going by pixie on this blog :3
i know i’ve had my real name on here ever since this blog was created but i really like the idea of going by pixie online so i’ll slowly be transitioning my account with that name!
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darklcy · 3 months
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when i want fluff/angst fics and all i’m getting is smut
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the struggle is real
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darklcy · 3 months
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being with toxic people on Christmas eve, hurt/comfort with eddie + shy!reader, because this is my situation and I'm projecting 😔
i'm so sorry angel! i hope this makes you feel a wee bit better!! — when being around family gets too hard, eddie makes everything feel easy again (shy!reader, hurt/comfort, friends in love, tw for brief mentions of toxic family, 1.1k)
blurbcember ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚
December is bitter, glittering, and terribly cold. 
The crisp chill takes your breath away when you storm out into it. It burns your lungs and scratches at your chest like a living thing with claws. When the initial shock of wintry dreariness fades, you take your first deep breath in all day.
You feel somehow less alone out here by yourself than you did inside your own house. The falling snow keeps you company in a way your family never could. The empty, faint pink sky drapes over you like a fuzzy blanket. 
You think you’d rather freeze out here — in the peaceful, early-winter melancholy — than step foot back home.
You walk down the gravel path of the trailer park with snow crunching beneath your feet. The sound is soft and hollow and pleasant. The piling crystalline dampens your sneakers as your legs move on their own. Muscle memory at its finest. 
You gravitate towards the Munson trailer without thinking twice ‘cause the safest thing you know is waiting for you there — standing on his snowy front porch, smoking a cigarette, and shivering under a thick flannel coat that’s obviously older than he is.
A quiet smile lifts the corners of your mouth when you see him. 
Eddie’s winter-kissed features twist in concern at the sight of you, all alone and in the dark. “The hell are you doing out here?” he asks in place of any real greeting, breath leaving his rosy, chapped lips in a thin white cloud. “It’s freezing!”
You know this. The cold is impossible to ignore. You were just too eager to get out of your house, too eager to get here, that you forgot to notice how much your frigid limbs were aching.
“I wanted to see you,” you confess in a tiny voice, as light as the falling snow sticking to your hair and sweater.
Eddie’s chest swirls with warmth. Suddenly it’s summer, and everything’s golden instead of navy blue and bitter. With a sudden longing to close the distance between you, he says, “Get up here before you freeze to death.”
You climb up the steps of his porch without a word of complaint from your mouth. You gravitate towards him like he’s the sun, a bright yellow thing that makes the winter seem less dreary. You ache to be near him just the same, to hold him with your frozen hands until you’re warm again.
He reaches for the lapel of his coat, and you think he might take it off for you — swaddle you in its warmth like they do in the movies. Despite the swarm of butterflies the thought stirs in your stomach, you’d rather him keep it on. You don’t want him to suffer just because you forgot to put on a jacket before rushing here.
Only Eddie doesn’t take it off. He keeps it on and ushers you closer with a silent nod of his wild head. He wraps you up in it with him — with his palm on your back, his curls tickling your forehead, and his heart against your heart. 
You bury a final sigh of relief into his Corroded Coffin tee, thankful to be in his arms. He soothes you with the familiar scent of his musky cologne, heals you with the kindness of his touch. He opens suns inside your heart and makes you forget how cold you used to be.
“What happened?” Eddie asks, chin bobbing against your head. He snuffs out his cigarette on the small ashtray on the wooden railing, then swipes a hand over your hair to brush off the snowflakes sticking to you. “Why aren’t you at home?”
You make a vague I don’t know sound, muffled into his chest. “I just needed to be outside for a second,” you say finally, so soft your words get buried in the whistling wind. In a strained and fragile voice, you tell him, “It’s so loud back home.”
Eddie knows that’s not totally the truth. You didn’t leave in such a hurry that you forgot to put on a coat just because it was loud. You decided it was more important to risk freezing on your way to him than stay where you were, so it must be more than you let on.
Eddie doesn’t pry, though. Just holds you tighter.
“Yeah, I know what you mean,” he says in a sympathetic sigh.
You can hear music playing from inside the trailer — Steve Miller Band, you think, or maybe Lynyrd Skynyrd. Uncle Wayne loves both, and their rhythmic guitar shakes the walls of the old house accordingly. The Munson clan’s closest friends and family manage to shout over it all, mixed with loud laughter and something warm. 
It doesn’t sound as mean as the shouting you’re most familiar with.
“How long do I have you before your folks start hunting me down?” Eddie asks, lips curled into a smile against your head.
“As long as you want,” you answer with a sad laugh. “No one’s coming to look for me.”
Eddie nods despite his stinging chest and sways you gently back and forth.
“Good. I wanted you all to myself— It’s what I asked for for Christmas, actually.”
You snort a disbelieving scoff.
“I’m serious!” he insists with a loud laugh. You feel the rumble of the boyish noise against the apple of your cheek. “I put the letter in the little Santa mailbox on Main Street and everything!”
“Well, I’m glad I could make your wish come true,” you joke with a conceding sigh. You pull slightly back from him, only enough to see his face. You find him smiling down at you, a pink grin that shows all his teeth. Beautiful. Warm. Sunlit.
You try to smile back. It’s a little too forced and ends up looking like a wince.
Eddie’s face twists in concern. Still smiling, just a little softer now. “You’re okay, right?”
You nod at first. ‘Cause you feel like that’s what you’re supposed to do. Then you realize it’s Eddie, and you shrug. “Now I am,” you answer finally, quiet in your subtle confession.
His rosy grin widens. “That is very cheesy,” he teases with a twinkle in his dark eyes. He squints them a second later. “You’re not flirting with me, are you?”
Your face burns hot as you laugh out loud. “No!”
“Well, that’s unfortunate,” he jokes, pouting now.
“Shut up.”
He shrugs. “I just thought we had something going here.”
“Are you flirting with me, Eddie Munson?”
“Of course I am!” he blurts with a laugh you can feel in your chest. “I’m surprised it took you this long to notice.”
You figure he must be joking, so you shove him away with a halfhearted hand. He pulls you back into him with gentle fingers wrapped around your arms, and you let him — resting your cheek against his shoulder with every intention of melting with him.
There’s something innately sweet about his presence. His warmth. This closeness. And this silent sense of understanding you share. 
You don’t want to think about what you’re running from anymore. 
You’re just glad you ended up here.
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darklcy · 4 months
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𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬!
happy new years, friends! it'll be 2 years since creating this blog this month!
one of my new years resolutions is to write more, but also become a bit more vulnerable through my writing
writing is an escape ultimately! expressing myself and going to my writing world is important to me, so i want to pay more attention to it this year
altruistic hasn't been forgotten dont worry!
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darklcy · 4 months
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Blood whispers
Astarion x Reader 
Summary: Astarion has promised to help you with your urges. When they suddenly overwhelm you again, he intends to keep his word.
Word Count: 2,8k no warnings, hurt/comfort, fluff
AO3
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Travelling across the shadow-cursed lands had provided Astarion some valuable knowledge. Not only had he learned the meanings of the scars on his back, it was also revealed that the scheme behind the tadpole in his brain was far greater than he had initially anticipated.
These discoveries alone should have been enough to keep him adequately occupied, yet there had been another novelty: for the first time in his life he had developed genuine affection for someone. Namely for you, the softhearted adventurer with an undeniable saviour-complex. You had filled his chest with an unfamiliar warmth and therefore led him to great confusion - at least until his constant brooding had left the inevitable conclusion that you meant far more to him than a solely guarantee for his safety.
His plan with you had been calculated to serve his own needs. He needed protection, so he had aimed to lure you into a selfish alliance by gaining your trust and using his charm to get you on his side. 
As it turned out, this simple little plan of his had fallen apart rather quickly: not only had he come to truly care about you, he had also openly admitted these feelings to you. To his surprise, you had shared that you felt the same.
Even though Astarion wasn’t entirely sure what he was doing with you half the time or where all of this was leading - being with you was astonishingly nice. 
From the moment Astarion had told you about his failed plan, you had decided to be with each other without sleeping together. For the past centuries, sex had been merely a tool for him to collect victims for his former master, so it still brought up feelings of loath and disgust. 
With you, he experienced that there was more to intimacy than sex.
At first, the thought of forming a sincere connection had terrified him. What was he to do with you, and how could he be close to you in a real way - in a way that mattered?
But somehow, you made it easy for him. 
You had been considerate not to overwhelm him with your affection. It had been small steps: a single grasp for his hand, some soft kisses in the safety of your blanket or a heartfelt embrace in between all the fights and mischief that paved the way along your journey to free yourself from the tadpoles.
Sometimes you would read to him, his head resting comfortably in your lap, while your fingers formed circles through his curls. He adored the feeling of your body close against his back, leaving the sensation of your warm hands on his chest the last thing he would remember before he would fall into his nightly trance. 
You made him feel safe, and he found himself positively enjoying your time together.
Well, there had also been that other night. 
That night, when the fear over losing you to your darkness had scared Astarion more than any torture his former master could have ever inflicted on him.
You had woken him with a vigorous shake, eyes wide open and sheer panic in your voice. “We don’t have much time,” you would say, almost swallowing your tongue, “I’m going to kill the person I care about most – and it is you.”
Flattery aside, the threat of being murdered by his lover posed a fairly unpleasant way to be brought from his rest, so Astarion was forced to act fast. 
You had spent the night with your wrists tied up while he watched over you, ensuring that you faced no harm. On the next morning you were yourself again, but the whole ordeal had left its mark on both of you.
And that was another thing about you: despite being the kindest person Astarion had ever met, you were also the only one that was cursed to unwillingly bring a great deal of murder and despair into this world. 
Those violent urges would occasionally infest your mind with a strong yearn to kill and destroy. Gruesome thoughts, suddenly engulfing you with malicious intent - their origin unknown to you. When you resisted them, they would usually fade as quickly as they came, leaving you with a throbbing headache.
One might say that those were not exactly the best circumstances for a blossoming relationship, but Astarion was not particularly impressed by such assumptions. In fact, he had learnt that there was a certain comfort in sharing the burden of internal turmoil. Perhaps that was one of the reasons he had found himself drawn to you from the moment you had met.
Besides, Astarion was confident that you would find a way to rid yourself from these aggravating compulsions for good. After all, he had promised you on that fateful night - and even if he might exaggerate at times, he had meant every single word.
A light breeze rustled through the trees and brought him back from his thoughts. He sat next to his tent with a book in his hands and relished the last beams the sun would offer that day. The warmth was pleasant on his skin, especially after the long march that was behind him.
You and the rest of your companions had left the shadowlands a few days ago and were now heading towards Baldur’s Gate. After hiking through dense forests and small villages, you had decided it was time to make camp and continue your travels after dawn.
It was unusually quiet today. Perhaps the others were taking some time for themselves as well, he thought. You would probably gather around the fire later this evening, sharing some tales over a bottle of wine or discussing the next steps lying ahead of you. 
Astarion let his gaze wander, back from the other tents to a more secluded spot, where he found you. You were sitting in the grass, holding one arm out in front of you with a loaf of bread beside your feet. A small bird with bright orange feathers was fluttering excitedly around you. It seemed like you were about to toss it some crumbs, and it was impatiently waiting to get its beak full.
Astarion rolled his eyes. Typical. You would probably even share your food with some random animal if it meant starving yourself. 
Then again, it was also kind of adorable, he thought as his lips inevitably turned into a grin.
As he continued to watch you from afar, he realised that something was off about you. You weren't moving at all. 
That was odd. 
Your arm looked too stiff, slightly cramped even, and as he squinted his eyes to get a better look, he could see that your hand was clenched into a fist. It was as if you were forcing yourself to hold the position.
Astarion’s senses immediately sharpened.
He got up with haste, carelessly tossing his book aside and lunged towards you while calling out your name.
This was bad.
Uneasiness spread over his body like a rash, before he could even pinpoint what was going on with you. 
“My love, are you al-” The sentence stuck in his throat as he finally came to see you up close.
Your mouth was twitching, contorting your soft features into a grotesque grimace. You looked nothing like your usual self.
Astarion had seen this expression on you before.
His thoughts started to race, as he prepared himself to force you to the ground if necessary. He had no rope on him to restrain you, but in lack of a better solution his laces would have to do.
In any case, he would not let that thing take control over you.
He reached for your shoulder, bracing himself for the worst - but before he could grab you, your features already started to relax.
You must have snapped out of it. This was you again. 
You let your stiffened arm hang down and opened your fist, spilling the remaining crumbs on the floor. Instead of picking them up, the bird hastily flew away. Even the creature must have sensed that something was off.
Astarion let himself sink next to you in the grass and sighed. The danger had passed, it had not taken you.
“I wanted to feed it, I swear,” you explained between quivering lips, “But - my wretched brain almost made me kill this poor little thing.” Your hands were trembling, a deep misery resonating within your words.
A thick lump formed in Astarion’s throat as he noticed tears started to glisten in your eyes.
“I know, my love,” he said and rested his hand on your shoulder, “But remember, this isn’t you. And you brought the bird no harm.”
You swallowed hard and fixated him with your gaze. 
“Yes, this time. But what if I couldn’t have stopped myself? What if I would have killed it - just like that, without any other reason than my sick thoughts ordering me to?”
“Well, in that case…, “ Astarion replied and tapped his chin, “I assume Gale would have served you some poultry tonight. And I would’ve been glad to depend on blood for a chance, since you’d probably have to fight over that unfortunate little thing. I mean you have to admit, to fill the stomachs of our dear friends you should have aimed for something more substantial to mangle.” 
Astarion was no fool. This wasn’t just about you hypothetically killing that bird. Your urges evidently didn’t spare other living beings as well - including himself. This was serious, and yet he felt the need to cheer you up over some silly remark, as you would often find solace in your shared banter. While it was certainly not his best attempt to brighten the mood, it was an attempt nonetheless.
To his satisfaction, you huffed a quick chuckle that finally caused the tears in your eyes to spill over. 
“You’re pretty macabre, you know that?” you scolded and slightly shook your head.
“Am I now? Darling, I’m hurt,” he exclaimed in exaggerated dismay, before a genuine fondness took over his voice. “But honestly, I’m truly proud of you. I can only imagine the force that overwhelms you in those moments, and yet… You’ve proven more than once that you’re stronger than this.” He let his fingers gently brush over the wetness covering your cheeks. 
The gravity of the situation appeared to reclaim you with pressing weight, wiping off the faint smile at his clumsy attempt. You turned your head away from him.
“Astarion… I could understand if you would hate me for this.” It was no more than a mumble coming from you, but enough to take Astarion aback. 
He gave his answer fast, almost instinctive.
“No, I could never hate you.” 
It was true. That he could never, not when there was so much about you to love. But somehow, he couldn’t bring himself to say this out loud to you, not yet at least. 
Instead, a tight knot formed in his chest, as he watched your eyes focusing the space between your feet while you let out a quiet sob.
“My love, look at me.” He spoke softly as he reached out for you. With the utmost tenderness, he cupped your face in his hands and made your eyes meet his. “The other night, when you almost drenched my curls in a veil of the beautiful red of my blood, I made you a promise. You remember, don’t you?”
You nodded with your face still resting between his slender hands, as another quiet sob spilled from your lips. 
“Good. And I mean it still. We will get you through whatever the hells this is. We are in this together.” 
His voice trembled despite the honesty that fueled his words. Astarion had no intention to abandon you, the same way you had sworn to help him with his own demons. But this was not about him, this was about you.
You shifted a little closer and wrapped your arms around him - tentatively, almost hesitant at first, until you drew him into a tight embrace.
Your body was warm and pleasant against his, and he would let you hold him - not only because you needed this, but because he wanted to.
“It's okay my sweet, I’ve got you,” he whispered while he cradled you in his arms and let his lips graze against your temple.
Your fingers clutched the collar of his shirt while he breathed words of comfort over the sobs that escaped your throat. 
For now, there was no need for anything else, only him holding you while you cried.
Had he not already sworn to rid you of this affliction, he would tell you over and over again like a broken record, until he made sure that every inch of your body was certain about it.
Eventually you would clear your throat and look up to him. Your face was still wet from your tears, but there was also a glimmer of hope to be found. 
“Thank you. For believing in the good in me, I mean. Despite all of this.” 
“Well, who else would I believe in if not my brave little fool over here?” Astarion said and put a quick kiss to your hair. “Besides, I have no intention of dying again, so ridding yourself from this murderous condition might align with that rather splendidly.”
Your lips curled to a smile, only to be immediately disrupted by a pained groan that left your mouth and made you wince in Astarion’s arms.
“How bad is it?” he asked with concern as he glanced at you.
Another wince. “Honestly? Like my skull was split open with an axe,” you replied with a sharp exhale, “But it’s not the worst I ever had. I’m sure it’ll pass any minute.”
You pushed your fingers to your eyes and stretched your neck upwards, causing Astarion to doubt your words.
He knew that those headaches came with your affliction. Sometimes they would dissolve rather quickly, other times they got so worse that you had to lie down and he would fetch you a cloth drenched in the coldest water he could gather. 
The urgent need to comfort you rose in him again, so he put his hands on your face and slowly pulled you towards him until he could feel your breath on his skin. Then he carefully rested his brow against yours.
That was the best he could think of for now. He closed his eyes and felt your familiar warmth spreading onto him, hoping that he would spend you some soothing coldness.
You remained like this for a moment, the only sound coming from your steady breath. 
Astarion eventually lifted his brow and placed the softest kiss on its former place, right where he assumed your pain was sitting. With his hands, he reached for the back of your neck, giving it a gentle massage.
Your eyes remained closed while you let out a silent moan. You seemed to relax from his touch, the dampness on your skin bathing your handsome features in a light shimmer.
There was this sensation again, something Astarion only had with you. A prickling flutter, spreading from his chest all over his body.
What had you done to him that made him so blissfully light and at the same time would completely sweep him off his feet? Had his heart still pumped blood, Astarion was sure it would beat up to his neck right now. 
“Gods, you’re beautiful.” His adoration made him almost stumble over his words, but he needed you to hear them. 
Then he kissed the tip of your nose, before his lips would finally find yours. You tasted soft and sweet, making him longing to have more of you. Heat rose to his ears as his tongue gently curled around yours, while your hand stroked through his hair, pulling him closer to you. He couldn’t stop his lips from forming a loving smile over your pleasant warmth, before they met yours again for another tender kiss. There was no tadpole, no Cazador, nor the darkness in you. This moment belonged to you and him alone - and every touch was right.
He finished your kiss with another quick peck to your forehead and cleared his throat. “I do rather like that, you know.” 
“That’s pretty convenient,” you whispered with fondness in your eyes, “because I think that actually helped. My head feels light again.” 
“I'm glad,” Astarion murmured with relief, “Is there anything else you need? Just tell me, and I’ll get it for you.”
“For now, all I need is your presence,” you replied before resting your hand on his cheek. “Knowing that you'll stay with me.” 
“Of course, my love,” Astarion assured as he graciously sunk against your palm, “You’re not alone in this, you have me. And I’m not going anywhere.”
And it was true. It was a promise, after all.
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darklcy · 5 months
Note
hello!! do you mind if other writers rb your prompt lists for their readers to request from? or would you prefer them not to so the lists are just for requests to you? valid either way, i just wanted to make sure! :)
this is a cool idea actually! feel free to reblog and welcome ur followers to request from the list, just tag me in them so i can see and reblog as well and also so i get some credit :^)
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darklcy · 5 months
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500 LUVS
ALSO THANK YOUUU FOR 500!!!! SMOOCHES FOR ALL OF YOU
♡♡♡
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darklcy · 5 months
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not an ask but i want to thank you so much for ur fics. the end of aot is wrecking me and your stories provide such a safe environment for me to cope with things 💙 may many good things come your way!!
WAAAAAHHHH THANK YOU ACTUALLYYYY :,,,,,,( ive been avoiding watching the end of aot bc i just know itll ruin me but thats so SWEET WAH
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darklcy · 5 months
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𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐲
━━━━━━━━━━━━
‣ armin arlert x reader | attack on titan masterlist | altruistic masterlist | 716 words | fluff, armin being awkward lmao, cute interaction
‣ an excerpt from altrustic's part 3 but also a sneak peek of part 4. i enjoyed writing this first interaction between reader and armin so i wanted to make a oneshot off it :) more to come in the series!
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He initially disagreed with the idea.
He knew he had to try harder, talk louder, get stronger. Maybe this was the start to his journey. Huffing down a shaky sigh and thrashing his hands against his sleeves, his throat clears for his beginning sentence.
“...[Y/N]..?”
It’s timid and meek. Could he hear himself? Did you even hear him?
When you don’t stir from your position, he tries again.
“[Y/N]?”
And then he finally sees you. The skin around your eyes was red and agitated, probably a result from lack of sleep. Your blinks were lavishly slow as you peered at him, the moment of recognition crossing onto your face right before Armin’s eyes.
“...Hey, Armin.”
You greet him carefully, he notices. He glances to the beacon of light.
“Aren’t you heading to dinner..?”
Your hand falls to dangle by your shoe.
“..Not tonight. I’m not hungry.”
He pops his knuckles at his sides. 
“You sure? Skipping meals isn’t good for you..”
“I’m sure.”
His frown deepens. 
You’ve nestled back into your home already, staring upon the shadows filtering throughout the camp. 
..His footsteps trudge over to the steps, and you face him when he sits beside you, body position matching yours. Armin lost his stare into the forest, fingers tapping sporadically from where they laid over his biceps. He doesn’t mind that you observe him. 
Armin was a calm in the storm type of person. His best friend seemed to speak for three, never afraid to holler his frustrations, but on the other side of the spectrum lay this boy, the polite boy who loved to read. He’d apologize for existing, apologize for taking up space, before he ever sat down to introduce himself. 
“You’re easy to watch.”
It took everything in you to not choke. Armin instantly panicked.
“I-In training, I mean..! When we’re doing drills? Combat drills?”
His words puddled out in a hurry, the skin of his cheeks blaring bright red. 
“I just mean, you’re impressive! Or, inspiring? I uh, I’m not good at that stuff, so-,”
Your sudden boisterous laughter made him freeze. Armin couldn’t see your face anymore now that it was ducked over your thighs, shoulders trembling with cackles. Your arms caressed your aching stomach as if it could cease the attack, but it just kept advancing. 
“Uh…”
Finally rising off your thighs, you swooped in deep breaths to calm your heartbeat, a couple giggles escaping here and there.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you laugh..”
You waved him off with a hand. 
“No, no, don’t be. I liked it.”
His face was a never ending tomato. Now it looked like he was sweating a bit. 
“But, what you were saying…you watch me?”
Armin smacked both palms to his face. “I was trying to compliment your skills, but I apologize that it came off as stalkerish.”
Another wave of laughs pass through your smile. “It didn’t, it just caught me really off guard.”
He reveals his blue eyes to you again. “That’s good, I guess..”
Your expression slightly dims when you turn away from him.
“Well, thank you.”
Armin’s lips part, but then close.
He’s relieved when you wave him off, instead of barreling down on him like the weirdo he is. You even thanked him for his terrible attempt at a compliment, and it makes him want to smile. He didn’t mess this one up..!
Wafting through the crevices, the moon rejoins you on the steps, this time encasing Armin in her light, as well. By now, the mess hall was dismissed, sending cadets off to bed to end the day and rest for tomorrow. 
“Guess dinner’s over..”
His comment reawakes your reality, that tomorrow brings new hardships and restless nights. It makes you grimace.  
“I’m gonna..head off to bed. Goodnight, Armin.”
When you finally part ways for the night, he feels like there’s more to say, more he has to get off his chest, but he can see how exhausted you are.Enough is enough for tonight, he decides, and he bids you goodnight. He daringly feels better on the walk to bed, somehow proud of himself for speaking to someone new. He doesn’t register his best friend’s greeting inside, instead heading straight for his bunk with a dazed smile on his face.
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darklcy · 6 months
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altruistic is a very big passion project in the making and i finally found motivation to write the next chapter
i never post with the intention of gaining lots of reblogs or notes, and its always nice when a piece does receive lots of love! but altruistic is definitely a series i don't pay much attention to how successful it gets, only because i just want to spread the story and not focus on how many people see it
NOT TO SAY I DONT APPRECIATE LOVE I DO!!! its just i can get into my head about that kinda stuff, so it feels nice to write just for me :)
with that being said, expect part 4 soon!
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darklcy · 6 months
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ok hear me out
a rick grimes x reader fic thats platonic and the scenario is rick grimes is reader's foster dad
no im not projecting my father issues
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darklcy · 6 months
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#my boyfriend
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*the corpse regards you lifelessly.*
Astarion • High-Elf | Rogue | Charlatan Speaking with Helena (mother of Orin) • Baldur's Gate III
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darklcy · 6 months
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𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐡 𝐦𝐞.
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
‣ requsted by @ipromiseimnotthirsty : hello! if your requests are open, would you write robin x reader smut where reader has been teasing robin all day until she snaps? maybe they’ve been in public/with other people/in class all day and then they get home? thank you!!
‣ robin buckley x f! reader | stranger things mastelist | 1.5k words | 18+ MDNI, heavy petting, skin on skin, sexual tension, swearing, reader has boobas, college au, no use of y/n, fingering, make out sesh
‣ this is actually one of the first times i've ever written smut so i hope i did you justice adfafawe sorry this one took so long! enjoy my luvs
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Something must’ve been in the air today, she thinks.
Surely that’s why her skin flared red, insides grinding like an engine, knee bouncing beneath her desk anxiously while trying to find a rhythm with the pencil in her grip. Professor Smith’s lecture faded quiet, the woman pointing to an assignment on the board that was to be finished come Monday morning. Robin slouched further into her chair.
…A shoe trails the inside of her calf. 
Her eyes close while her lips tighten. Nudging it away, she ignores the playful scoff behind her. 
Quit it.
The shoe lightly pokes her back, the tip of a canvas converse tapping into her corduroy pants. Smith and the chalkboard mesh together in a blur, a sweaty induced blur with Robin’s only focus being the damn girl behind her. The same damn girl who’s been riling up her nerves the whole class period.
The tip of a finger twirls around a strand of Robin’s bob, a phantom sensation of pulling on her scalp before the tension releases. Something’s gotta be in the air today.
The lunch line was annoyingly long today. Her weight shifts from feet to feet as her shoulder leans against the wall, awaiting her turn to enter the school cafe and order some overpriced food the campus provides. Not her usual choice, but waking up late damned her to forget packing a sack lunch. A student with a plastic tray walks by. Salisbury steak and mashed potatoes. Her nose twitches.
A sharp pinch to her side jolts her awake.
“Hey.”
Of course it’s you. Robin’s hand flies to her chest.
“My god, you scared me.”
“Good, I was trying to.”
Do you even know what you’re doing or is it just a state of oblivion?
“What’s for lunch today?”
“Uhh, steak and mashed potatoes.”
She watches you contemplate. 
“Hm. I’ll save you a spot.”
Your hand caresses her shoulder, but as you depart, trails down her arm before releasing at her wrist. Goosebumps stem up from her fingertips, unable to do anything else except watch you prance away to an empty table, joining a couple other classmates, and sure enough, placing your bag to the seat right next to yours.
You smile in greeting like it was just a regular day. It was almost mocking her. Her freckles could feel the heat underneath her pores. 
Someone taps her shoulder. “Can you move up.”
Shit.
— Last period of the day. Thank god.
She’d just about had it with you and your damn mannerisms. It’s never riled her up like this before, but surely there’s something in the air, with how much she wants to just-
“Wanna hangout today?”
You two hangout every day, yet you still ask. She hops in your passenger seat and leans her cheek against her palm, strategically moving her knees a bit away from you. Your hand still finds its way to her knee.
You commuted to class everyday, seeing how you only lived a couple blocks down the road. Robin doesn’t complain, her roommate wasn’t really her favorite person to hangout with anyways. Most days it was just awkward silence and greetings. 
“You won’t believe what happened in chem. Jason Carver messed up on the lab, and made a huge mess. His face was so fucking funny, he kept whining about how his sweater was ruined.”
You shake your head with laughter. Robin doesn’t react.
“Rob? You listening? I just said Jason Carver made an ass of himself and you’re like not responding.”
She raises her head when you squeeze her knee twice.
“Oh, yeah. No, that’s funny.”
You scoff. “I love your enthusiasm.”
Robin’s tongue rolls the inside of her mouth, her face returning to its rest against her palm. 
The familiar neighborhood streets fade in, your car slowing to a park, when Robin finally breaks. Her hands pull you into her immediately, her torso leaning over the gear shift to reach you better. She feels you smile against her, your hands gripping her hair and tugging gently. 
“You’ve been driving me crazy all fucking day.”
Robin groans into your mouth while taking a swoop of air, only to dive back into you again.
“I was trying to.”
She wants to ruin you. She wants to take you here and now. She wants you to shut the fuck up.
Your lips taste so sweet. The gasps and whines she drives out of you she immediately drinks in. She’s so lost in you that the roll of your bodies hitting the horn startle you both apart with a jolt.
“Shit!”
Robin swears as you burst out laughing. She glares down at you, but surrenders at your expression, your face squinting with giggles and smiles. She adores you. With a sigh, she bends down to steal another kiss. 
“Let’s go inside.”
You hum. “Good idea.”
—-
Robin starts immediately where you left off. The second you two enter your room, she grabs hold of you again, not wasting any time to place her mouth on yours. She feels you hold onto her waist, gently rubbing your fingers against her sides. Robin bites your lip when you pinch her.
“You don’t know when to quit, do you?”
The back of your knees buckle against your bed, allowing Robin to fully settle herself on top. 
“Nope,” 
She hates how you pop the ‘p.’
This way is much better, she finds. No damn gear shift or car horn to drive you apart now. This way she can feel you entirely, your warmth, your breath, your soft skin. Her knee glides up to rest between your legs, smiling when you stutter, your fingers desperately grabbing onto her. Robin rubs herself up and down, her weight and position making you two hungry for more, kisses growing deeper and deeper. Who needs to breathe air when she could just live here, in your body, in your affection?
She feels her shirt rise with her movements, to which she momentarily pauses to sit up and rid herself of the damn thing. You take this chance to follow her, exposing more of yourself to her and quickly meeting her lips again. Your fingers trail up and down her shoulder blades, her spine, her nape. Your nails become your new eyes, wanting to memorize every single freckle and pore of Robin’s skin down to the minute detail. Robin was so beautiful. Her freckles were probably your favorite thing about her. If you could, you’d kiss every single one. You started with her collarbones, then her shoulders, your teeth gently biting her in between.
Robin’s arms encased around your shoulders, starting to mess with the back of your wired bra before snapping it off. She moved lower to embrace your breasts with her tongue, each lick and kiss quickening your breaths. With a pop, Robin moves to the other, her tongue swirling around the bud before wrapping her mouth around it entirely. 
“You know..”
Robin peers up at you through her eyelashes, her lips still working on your left breast.
“If I’d known messing with you would get you like this… I would’ve done it a lot sooner.”
You gasp when her teeth bites your nipple.
“Shut up.”
Robin’s tongue licks into your mouth greedily, shutting you up in the best way. You find the latch hooking her bra together and eagerly rip it off, your fingers grabbing at her while her mouth occupies itself with yours. Robin leans on her right elbow while her left hand redirects yours to the hem of her jeans, letting out a hum when they dip inside and find where she needs you most. 
She’s so warm and slick with heat, you find no trouble slipping in a finger inside, curling rhythmically and slowly. Robin moans against you, breaking apart from you to your neck, letting herself rest there while you get her ready. It’s not long before you slip in another finger, even allowing her to grind down against you to rid some of the ache. 
She practically whines when your fingers leave her.
“Take this thing off.”
She obeys instantly. Her jeans fall heavy to the floor and you’re back at it, her heat missing the two seconds you weren’t inside her.
Her moans and whines could sustain you forever. It feels so good to make her feel good, you could probably reach your limit right here and now just drunk off her pleasure. Three fingers in now, pumping in and out, in and out. She’s close, you can feel it. It’s almost amusing how her cool exterior dumbs down to whimpers the moment someone touches her. 
“I’m getting, I’m,”
You leave a lingering kiss on her cheek, while Robin’s eyes clenched shut, her walls closing down on your fingers as she lets go. Her moans are euphoric and beautiful, and being this close you can feel them all around you, surrounding your five senses, and you find yourself starting to moan with her, too.
Her body collapses onto you, her sweaty cheek meeting the crook of your neck while your slick covered fingers come up to your lips to be licked clean. Robin can hear you hum at the sensation, annoyingly popping your fingers like a cartoon character after finishing a gourmet meal.
“You taste so sweet, Rob.”
You can’t hold back your grin as she groans into your skin.
“God, shut up.”
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darklcy · 6 months
Text
𝐟𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐡
━━━━━━━━━━
‣ a late night outing with jonathan
‣ jonathan byers x reader | stranger things mastelist | 446 words | short drabble, lots of rotten fluff
‣ brought to you by flash - cigarettes after sex
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The ray of the street lamp bounced off the top of his ford and onto the tops of your shoes, your cheeks, your tousled hair that’d just been torn away from pillowcases. It was a bit embarrassing to be greeting him in an oversized abba t-shirt and leggings, shoelaces untied due to the rush the adrenaline of sneaking out enveloped you with.
His grin was cheeky and eager, excited to be encouraging you to commit such a sinful act that was escaping your bedroom to meet him in the early hours of the morning. You yanked open the passenger door and slid into the seat, returning his smile with a bashful one of your own. 
"Hi." “Hi.”
His hand squeezes the top of your seat as he takes in your appearance.
“You look pretty.”
You swatted his arm. “You’re being nice.”
“Just being honest.”
Jonathan was as sweet as fruit. It warmed the skin on your face and suffocated your pulse underneath your rib cage. The rhythm of your heartbeat lost its balance when you were around him. You hoped he didn’t notice.
His hand returned back to the wheel as he switched from park to drive, swerving away from your house and into the empty, lonely streets of Hawkins, lowly lit from spread apart street lamps and covered in trees. It was times like this, when the moon watched over the world from her highest peak, where it felt like it was just you and him. You and Jonathan. 
No one else could enter this world of yours. The Hawkins outside couldn’t compare to the Hawkins you experienced with him.
His stereo hummed a low tune of a song from the Clash, and somehow you didn’t feel the need to talk. It was fine being quiet with him, sharing this space was more than enough. His right palm found your hand this time, his thumb rubbing the tops of your knuckles ever so gently.
Shuffling closer to him, your cheek met his shoulder, keeping aware of the gear shift to not interfere with the car’s operation. 
“Don’t fall asleep now, we’re not there yet.”
His voice was breathy and soft, careful to not break the tender atmosphere of your world. You hummed as you fought to keep your eyelids open.
“Mm. How much longer?”
“Just a few more minutes.”
You hummed again. His grip on your hand tightened.
"Ok fine, you can sleep, I’ll wake you up when we get there.”
“Where are we even going?"
You feel him shrug underneath your cheek.
"Not sure yet."
He plants a kiss to the top of your head, his smile embedding itself into your skin. 
"We'll find out when we get there."
You never want the journey to end.
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