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honeybeefae · 9 months

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7 Minutes In Heaven (Bat Boys x Reader)

Summary// After a night of drinking and a confession that friends should not say to each other, you find yourself on the receiving end of your three best friend’s wicked desires to make sure you are taken care of.

(Hoooooly hell this was a LOT to write and it took me so long but I am so happy with how it came out. 16 pages, 5K words, and I really hope you guys like this. This is obviously just pure smut but we all know that’s why you’re here. ;) Enjoy!)

WARNINGS: Smut, 18+, Foursome, Double penetration, Spitting

The fire was roaring in the hearth while the smell of bread and wine filled the cabin air. Rhys, Cass, Az, and you were all sitting in a circle by the couch as you joked about old memories, the outside world seemingly far away as you took a relaxing breath and enjoyed the company of your friends.

You had come up here after your father had surprised you with an arranged marriage back in your birthplace within the Court of Nightmares. Despite your job with the inner circle he still felt as if he had control over you and you were lucky that Rhys had been there to swoop you away and hide you here.

It had been three days since then and you had no plans of leaving anytime soon. The four of you were as close as could be and you were thankful they had dropped everything to help you out and be a shoulder to lean on.

Four wine glasses lay empty beside each of you though none of you were drunk by any means, the conversation light and mellow as you reached for the half-empty bottle beside Rhys.

“So, Y/N,” Cassian began, smirking when you rolled your eyes at his prying tone. “Who were you going to be wed to?”

“Really?” Rhys deadpanned. “Do you have to kill the mood?”

“It’s okay. I know he can’t help his gossiping ways.” You say sickly sweet, drinking down the red liquid faster than you should’ve. “It was some friend’s son of Keir’s. A terrible man no doubt looking to climb ranks like the rest of them. And with me being the only daughter of my father, you know he was looking to make alliances to secure his power as well.”

“They’re all like that. It’s pathetic.” Azriel grumbled from his spot on the floor.

“The men are the worst of them all, treating us daughters lesser than.” You snort and lean back on your hands. “It just sucks that us women are caught in the crossfire of your pissing contests.”

“Our pissing contests?” Rhysand echoed, arching his brow as you waved your hand in the air to gesture vaguely.

“Men in general. It’s so much harder for us than it is for you when it comes to scenarios like this. You guys get to go and do whatever you want, fuck whoever you want, etc., while we have to be everything all at once lest we ruin our family image.” Your eyes nearly rolled into the back of your head in irritation as you ranted to the group.

“If I were a man I wouldn’t have to put up with being treated as a mere breeding sow or a stepping stool to a higher purpose. I could take what I wanted.” They were all watching you with amusement as you crossed your arms over your chest, glowering. “For example, I bet the three of you never once got lectured on the importance of maintaining your purity for a woman or how to please them properly.”

“Well, no, but-” Cassian tried to interrupt but you raised to sit on your knees and snapped your fingers in exasperation, cutting him off.

“Exactly my point! It’s a sexist, ridiculous outlook on women as a whole. We shouldn’t be made to feel bad about wanting our own pleasure when you lot can take part in yours whenever you please.” You realized too late how you had completely derailed the conversation and glanced at your now empty glass of wine, making a note to keep it that way.

“You certainly have very strong feelings towards this subject.” Rhys pointed out, his violet eyes twinkling in the firelight. “I didn’t realize this was such a sore topic. Shall we join you in your celibacy?”

All three of them laughed and you felt your face heat in embarrassment. It was your own fault for making it such a big deal and you were starting to regret the ammunition you had just given them. You rushed to defend yourself from whatever picture they were painting of you.

“I’m not celibate, I just-” You tried to get out, your voice cracking as you considered your words.

Three pairs of eyes stare at you as you clear your throat and straighten your spine, finding a small stain on the rug underneath you to focus on. “I mean that in the sense that you don’t have to feel obliged to do that since I’m not. I just think the issue needs to be talked about more.”

“The issue of your sex life?” Azriel quipped, grinning when you threw a pillow at him.

“No! The issue of the scale of men and women.” You retort with a flip of your middle finger. “Can we just change the topic?”

“I just can’t believe you’ve actually had sex with someone. What would your mother think, Y/N?” Cassian faked a dramatic gasp and you resisted the urge to chuck the glass bottle at his head.

"Listen-” You try to cut in but your pleas fell on deaf ears as all three of your best friends started to gang up on your blushing state.

“You have had sex before right?” Rhys smirked devilishly. “Touching yourself doesn’t count, it takes two people.”

“Or more.” Azriel gave you a wink and you blushed crimson, your mouth opening and closing as you tried to regain control of the situation.

“Yes, yes. I’ve done it before with someone else.” You felt self-conscious even admitting to that and you could tell they wanted more details. Before they could even ask though you held out your hand to silence them. “Why am I in the hot seat? Can we move on to someone else? Or a new topic entirely?”

“Oh no, this is very interesting. I want to know more.” Rhys raised an eyebrow, shooting his brothers an amused glance as you shook your head.

“Well if it’s so interesting how about I ask you how many people you’ve had sex with, hm?” You challenged your High Lord, blinking in surprise when he simply shrugged his shoulders.

“I have no problem telling you how many. What was it you said, we shouldn’t be made to feel bad about seeking our own pleasure?” His voice was dripping with sarcasm as you puckered your lips in silence. “I would say at least thirty.”

“Thirty?!” You were shocked.

“If you think that’s scandalous you really don’t want to hear Azriel’s…or Cassian’s.”

“How do you even? Were you courting all of them?”

Rhysand snorted while Cassian and Azriel grinned, the former laying sideways and propping his head up on his elbow. “You do know you don’t have to be courting someone to fuck them right, princess? Sex isn’t magically unlocked by writing poems and delivering flowers.” Cassian teased.

“I know that.” You snapped, frowning. “I just don’t see why. It doesn’t even feel that good.”

The room immediately fell into silence and your body tensed. All three of your friends were staring at you, mouths open, with shocked expressions. You brought your knees up to your chest, a comfort action, as Azriel cleared his throat and clicked his tongue.

“What doesn’t feel good? Sex itself?” He questioned, watching you shrug. “How many people have you had sex with, Y/N?”

“It doesn’t matter.” You went on the defense immediately, knowing they would laugh. However Rhys held out his pinky for you to hook, his face serious as he promised you that no one would make fun of you.

You mulled over lying or not but you knew they would be able to tell. It wasn’t something you were proud of but you truly never got the appeal of it. A few girls back in the Court of Nightmares were constantly bragging about it but you didn’t get the desire.

“Two.” You whispered, wincing when Cassian almost choked on his drink.

“Two? Did you say two?” He said hoarsely, hitting his chest with an open palm to clear his throat. “How old are you?”

“Why does it matter?” You ran a hand over your face frustratedly. “Why is any of this relevant to our friendship? Yes, I’ve only had sex with two people. It was painful, lasted a couple of minutes both times and just left me feeling frustrated and used. I didn’t like it. Can we move on?”

They watched you and you saw their gazes turn from shocking to pitying.

“So…no one has made you cum before?” Azriel whispered, voice tight as you closed your eyes and took a steadying breath.

“No, they aren’t supposed to.” You said as if it were obvious. “I was always told sex is for the man, to make a baby. It’s not really something that we enjoy but we just pretend we do.”

“Oh you sweet, summer child,” Rhys cooed. “That’s….that’s just cruel. And not what sex is at all.”

You felt agitated, embarrassed, and frustrated all at the same time. It was like they all knew some secret that you didn’t, that they were teasing you again. The night was not supposed to have taken this turn but you had dug this grave yourself.

“I’m going to bed.” You huffed and began to stand, grunting when Cassian grabbed your wrist and pulled you back down.

“I’m sorry if we made you feel uncomfortable or anything, Y/N. It’s just that is a very…shocking thing to hear.” He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly as you glared at him.

“Are you telling me that you all care about the women you sleep with? That you make them cum every single time?” Your voice was tight as they looked at each other and then back to you, nodding. A snort left your lips as you rolled your eyes. “Yeah, okay. I’ll believe that when I see it.”

Another pregnant pause filled the room as you watched them, their eyes darkening while they looked you over. There was a noticeable shift in the air, your mouth suddenly dry as you squirmed on the floor.

“Would you like to see it, darling?”

Your heart dropped into your stomach as Rhys’s words reverberated through you. They all had the same look in their eyes, one of hunger, but you were convinced they were messing with you.

“Ha ha, very funny.” You laughed without humor, your eyebrows knitting together in anger. “You all are assholes for teasing me, you know that? I’m going to bed.”

This time it was Azriel who stopped you though not with his hands. Two silky, dark tendrils of smoke curled around your arms and held you on the floor. It made your breath hitch and goosebumps rise on your skin as you looked up at him with doe eyes. “Az, this isn’t funny.”

“We aren’t joking, princess.” Cassian purred, one of his hands wandering to your thigh as he made his way beside you. “There are many things we would joke about but your pleasure isn’t one of them…and trust me when I say that we would love to help you out.”

“What-all of you?” You asked softly as your gaze moved across all three of them. “I don’t…I mean you are all very handsome, obviously, but don’t feel obligated to-”

Rhysand sat in front of you and grabbed your chin with his thumb and index finger, the former dragging over your bottom lip as you held back a moan at the contact. Azriel’s shadows were drawing shapes into your soft skin while Cassian’s hand seemed to drift higher and higher, all the attention making your head spin.

Your High Lord knew it too, a smirk working its way to his lips as he bent down until he was a hairsbreath away from your lips.

“This is anything but an obligation to us, darling. This is pure, carnal desire in its rawest form. A primal need.” His voice was smooth as silk, your eyelids fluttering as his lips moved to ghost over your ear. “A desperate urge to take care of you until you’re drowning in pleasure.”

“Look at her,” Azriel growled from your other side, his hazel eyes appearing behind Rhys. He had on a wicked smile, his head slightly tilted as he surveyed you. “She wants it so bad.”

“Do you, princess?” Cassian asked teasingly, his hand stopping at the waistband of your pants. “Do you want us to take care of you?”

“Yes.” You breathed, your sultry voice surprising you as all three of them pulled away and grinned. All of their warmth and comfort disappeared and you almost let out a whine, wanting it back desperately.

“How about we make this a game?” Rhys asks his two friends, standing tall over you. There was already a noticeable bulge in his pants that your fingers were itching to touch. “Seven minutes in heaven?”

“Person who makes her cum the hardest gets to fuck her?” Cassian finished, licking his lips. “Gods, I need to go first.”

However, before he could grab you, Rhys hoisted you up bridal style into his arms. You giggled as he looked over his shoulder and said, “Go ahead and start the timer. I won’t need all seven.”

The bedroom door swung open and then quickly shut again as you were pressed right against it, his lips on yours before you could make a sound. It felt so wrong and yet so right, your fingers immediately running through his midnight black hair.

“Stars above, you’re so beautiful.” He grunted into your ear as he kissed down your neck, his lips latching onto your pulse point while he shimmied off your pants. “I could smell how badly you want this.”

“Please, Rhys,” You whined, his fingertips ghosting over the wet spot on your panties. “Please touch me.”

He didn’t answer you by words but by actions, as he pushed your underwear aside to rub your clit with his thumb. It made your knees wobble from how good it felt. One of your hands came up to grasp his forearm, your head hitting the door behind you. “Oh my gods, that feels-I feel…”

“So fucking good,” Rhys finished for you. He kissed you hungrily, his own cock straining against its confines. Two more fingers dipped down and circled the entrance of your cunt before he thrust them in sloppily, choking back a moan. “You’re such a good girl for me.”

Your nails dug into his skin at the roughness of his motions, his upper lip curled as drank in every expression on your face. “Fuck me,” You gasped as a pleasure you had only read about overtook your body, those thick fingers curling each time they entered you. “Don’t stop, don’t stop!”

“Never.” He promised. “I will never stop making you feel this good, never stop making you scream around my fingers. You’re mine. Forever.” His words were like ice to a burn as you felt a strong surge of ecstasy boil over. Rhys held you as you exploded around his fingers, working you through the best orgasm of your life with words of praise and soft strokes.

“That’s it, darling, that’s it.” You mewled at his tone as your pussy tried to swallow his fingers deeper. “Such a good girl. You did so well…”

“Rhys that was…I’ve never…” Your words were breathless as you watched him with hooded eyes, your lips slightly parted as he gave you a knowing smile and kissed you. It was loving and warm, like a blanket on a cold winter’s night, and you melted into it.

He threaded his fingers through your hair to deepen it, taking control, and just as you felt him start to rut into your thigh the door behind you shook with a pounding force.

“Don’t need seven minutes my ass! Time’s up, High Lord!” Cassian chuckled, his grin feline as Rhys opened the door with a glowering look. “Oh I’m sorry, did I interrupt?”

“Just remember who just made your eyes roll back, darling.” Rhys purred into your ear before kissing your cheek, purposefully hitting Cass’s shoulder as he made his way back out to the living room. You tried to follow him with your eyes but Cassian was quick to step forward and make you step backward., your thighs still shaking.

“Was it that good, princess? Or were you just pretending for him?” He teased as he strode forward, making you retreat until your knees hit the edge of the bed. You fell back, your smile growing when the general appeared over you. “You don’t have to lie, I promise I won’t tell.”

“It was pretty amazing…” You sighed as he rolled his eyes before sinking to his knees at the end of the bed. He threw your legs over his shoulders before you could process what was happening and by the time you tried to squirm away, he had you pinned.

“Nuh-uh, you’re not going anywhere.” He growled as he gazed at your swollen cunt, your lips puffy and glistening. “You have such a pretty pussy, princess. Is it sensitive?”

Before you could answer he blew a cool breeze across your sex, making you jump. Cassian smirked and used both of his hands to spread you wide open. He leaned forward and spat on your clit, watching it mingle with your wetness as he inserted one finger. “Gods you’re making it so hard to be gentle.”

“Then don’t,” You urged, your pupils blown wide in desire. “Treat me how I deserve to be treated.”

Cassian let your words sink in before he dove headfirst into your pussy, three fingers roughly fucking into your hole as he scraped the hood of your clit with his teeth. It was sensory overload and you bucked forward with a small shout, your hands immediately fisting into his hair as he ate you out like a starved animal.

Every nerve in your body had already been shot but this was mind-numbing pleasure. It had you crying out for more, fucking his face as his stubble rubbed against your thighs. He was no better as he sucked and fucked your cunt until he could feel you start to tighten around him.

You hated how fast you were cumming but you also didn’t know if you could hold it any longer, your cries to slow down falling on deaf ears. Cassian swirled his tongue up and down, side to side, making sure to not waste a drop of your excitement. He knew how to eat someone out.

“Cass, Cass-” You tried to warn him, shifting your hips, only for him to tighten his hold on you. “Cass I can’t. I can’t hold it.”

“Cum all over my face, princess,” Cassian grunted as he watched your face contort in pleasure, your body already falling over the edge of the abyss. “Soak my beard, fuck my face, use me to get off. It’s all for you.”

Whereas Rhys had been sweet, Cassian was a little bit of both. It made you yearn for more of his degrading praise and you quickly found yourself following his orders, your hips rolling over his face as you came loudly.

The door started banging again but you didn’t care and neither did he. In fact, Cassian was so lost in what he was doing he almost lashed out when Azriel appeared behind him. You whined when he was pulled back but quickly settled when you felt cool hands running over your body.

No, not hands. Shadows.

Your eyes widened when Azriel’s hazel gaze appeared inches from your face. He had a dark look and an even darker smirk as his shadows lazily rubbed along your skin, his hands gently pulling off your top.

“Did my brothers fully satisfy you or are you still wanting more, mouse?” Azriel cooed into the empty room, tossing the last of your clothing aside so that you were now bare before him. “Answer me.”

“I want more.” You gulped, drinking precious air as the Shadowsinger tilted his head in wonder. “Please.”

“Who taught you those manners, pet?” He raised a curious brow while both of his hands cupped your sensitive tits, thumbs barely grazing over your nipples. It was enough to make you squirm though which he was counting on. “I’ll be happy to give you more but I want you to beg.”

“Beg?”

“Beg.”

You faltered at first, not sure what it was he wanted to hear, but when he went to pull away from your breasts you ran with it. “No, no, please keep touching me!” You whined, groaning when one of his tendrils of smoke circled your clit. “Oh, Gods, that feels so good.”

“I’ll stop if you don’t fucking beg for it, Y/N. I want to hear you tell me how badly you want my fingers. How greedy you are for already cumming twice but still needing more, like the dirty slut you are.” He sneered, his nostrils flaring as he resisted the urge to just fuck you then and there.

“I am greedy! I want more, I want it so fucking bad, Az!” You cried, desperate for his touch to grow stronger. He was keeping you on the edge. “I am a, fuck, I’m a dirty slut. I want you so bad, so so bad, please.”

“You’re a quick learner.” He smiled before bending down and capturing one of your nipples in his mouth at the same time his shadows started stroking your slit. Your mouth opened wide in a silent cry of euphoria as he bit and nibbled his way over to your other boob, the pressure on your clit increasing with each second.

“I always knew you were dirty, mouse,” Azriel murmured as he gave a harsh suck, enjoying the way you arched into it. “Always knew this how you wanted to be fucked. Just look at this greedy little cunt, hm? Look at how it’s swallowing my fingers.”

You couldn’t see it but you could feel it as he thrust two fingers inside of you, the walls sensitive as he stroked them and found that special spot with ease. His fingers plus his mouth on your breasts was heaven as your head thrashed back and forth, your body desperate to just be fucked.

But he wasn’t going to give that to you. At least not yet. No, Azriel was focused on making you cum one more time. The tip of his tongue flicked over your hardened nub as his shadows came back to rub your clit, all of the stimulations becoming too much, too fast.

“Azriel, fuck!” You squealed as you came for the third time that night. This time you felt yourself ascend from your body, watching yourself from below as he worked you through it but didn’t slow down. “Ohhhhh fuck…”

“Fuck you’re so tight.” He growled as he removed his fingers, smirking when your eyes had that glazed look to them. You whimper as he picks you up gently, shushing you, then turning to see Rhys and Cassian waiting in the doorway. “I think she’s done for the night.”

“No…” You mumble softly, needily. “I want you…all of you. Please.”

There was a beat of silence as they considered your state and each other before you were brought back to the bed and spread out for their viewing pleasure. You felt like you were cock drunk at this point, especially as Rhys pulled his cock out right in front of your face.

You wasted no time in bringing him into your mouth, your saliva dripping out the sides of your mouth as you worked his cock up and down. Rhys threw his head back and growled, the room seeming to shake before he grabbed a fistful of your hair to help guide you.

“If your mouth is this good I can’t wait for your cunt.” He laughed airly before moaning once more, watching as Azriel stood to your other side with his cock standing proudly.

The bed dipped behind you and before you could blink you felt Cassian rub his cock up and down your folds, words of praise or prayer spilling from his lips as he sunk in inch by inch. It felt amazing and you pulled off Rhys’s dick long enough to moan loudly.

“Shit, Cassian,” You groaned. “You’re so big.”

“You’re just tight as fuck, princess. Gods, I don’t think I’m going to fit.” He cursed, his fingers squeezing your hips as you whipped your head to look back at him.

“Make it fit.” You said lowly, your eyes narrowed in challenge which had him grinning. He gave you a shrug of his shoulders before pulling out and slamming back in, rocking your forward and straight into Azriel’s cock. He took advantage of the situation and forced you to swallow him whole, his biceps straining as you gagged and cried around his dick.

“Look at you, look at the little whore you’re being for us,” Azriel said as you started to go back and forth between him and Rhys. Cassian was fucking you like a beast, his balls hitting your clit with every thrust. It was intoxicating in every sense of the word and you never wanted it to stop. “You like being treated like this, don’t you? Like our own personal fuck toy?”

“You’re doing such a good job, darling.” Rhys’s voice soothed, your heart beating in your ears as you gazed at him. “Taking Cass so well. He’s close, I can tell.”

“I’m gonna fucking fill you up.” The Illyrian General growled as he pistoned in and out. You could feel him in your stomach as you closed your eyes and let yourself feel. “Take it, Y/N, fucking take it.” He ordered as he finally stilled in you, hot ropes of cum coating your insides as you hung your head in rapture.

He seemed to cum forever and when he finally pulled out, you watched his cum drip down onto the bedsheets from just how much it was. Cassian smirked and collected the leaking seed onto his fingers, holding it out for you to take before Rhys snatched it and sucked it off himself.

Rhys’s eyes darkened at the taste of both of you and he quickly yanked you to him, lying back on the bed and positioning you on top. He helped guide you onto him and when you started sinking down, both of your groaned. The rhythm was soft and slow as you got used to his size, your hands coming to palm at your breasts until you felt a nudge against your asshole.

“Shhhh, relax,” Azriel’s voice shushed as he spat on his cock, lubing it up even more before he started to press into your ass. “Relax for me, mouse. I want you to take us both together. Can you do that?”

You nodded, a stupid smile on your face as you leaned back into him for support at the intrusion. It felt weird but the longer you waited, the more pleasurable it got. Soon you were rocking on to both of them in need, your sex hungry for more as they started fucking you at the same time.

It was a fullness you had never felt before but you don’t know how you could ever go on without it. They worked beautifully with each other, their moans mixing with yours as Azriel replaced your hands with his own. Rhysand watched from below, his violet eyes burning with desire as he pulled you down for a heated kiss.

They were fighting over you and it was driving you crazy. And just as Azriel went to pull you back to him, Cassian appeared at your side with his cock in his hand. It was already hard and leaking and you wasted no time in shoving him inside your mouth.

“That’s it, that’s it,” Rhys praised. “Ride us, darling. Be a good, needy girl for us.”

“Our good, naughty little whore.” Cassian purred, choking when you took him down to the base.

“Or just our whore.” Azriel growled as he smacked your ass, watching the recoil. “A whore we can use and abuse whenever we want.”

Their words filled your veins until you felt as if you were about to burst. You could feel a fourth orgasm coming, could feel the now painful clenching of your cunt, but there was nothing you could do to stop it. You had enough mind to pull away from Cassian’s cock before you let out a blood-curdling scream, your body collapsing on Rhys’s chest as you squirted all over them.

All at once, together, they also found their releases and followed you with reckless abandon. The sheets were soaked, as were the rest of you, as Azriel came in your ass, Rhys came in your cunt, and Cassian came over your back. You felt like you were leaking cum from every opening you had and you loved it.

You struggled to catch your breath as they all fell into bed beside you and Rhys, the smell of sex and cum permeating the room. Rhys’s soft hand stroked up and down your back lovingly while Cass and Az whispered praises. It was slow coming back down to Earth, to the three men who you had just slept with, and you realized that you never wanted to leave the room. Never wanted to leave them.

After a few minutes, you hear rustling before Azriel stands up and asks if anyone wants to shower, his eyebrows lifting in surprise when you sat up sleepily and said, “Second round in the shower?”

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halcyone-of-the-sea · 6 months

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I wanna hear your head canons about Gaz (sfw or nsfw, or both,what ever you want), you write him so well 😩

—In His Head

⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ

╰┈➤ ❝ [Collection of his SFW and NSFW quirks.] ❞

This man is literally the only one in the One-Four-One I could see having/keeping a long-term relationship without much challenge and/or angst. Johnny’s a close second, but Kyle takes the cake because I love him and I’m biased towards men with brown eyes.

Gaz strikes me as incredibly attentive and kind—especially to someone he loves and cares about in more than a friendly way. He’s a breakfast-in-bed type of boyfriend even if he’s tired. Long date nights that leave you both laughing and losing track of time until it’s late at night and you have to get back to your flat before the sun comes up. I’m talking fancy/casual/anything that he feels you emulate at the time of going out.

You want to dress up? He’s already called for a reservation at the expensive restaurant down the street. You’re tired from work but want to do something with him? An easy dinner is already cooked and a movie is playing on the telly—your favorite drink is in your hand before you can slip off your shoes near the door.

Gaz has that boyish charm that I talk about often. He’ll make you laugh, gasp, and wheeze even when you think you can’t.

That isn’t to say he’s never serious, because he is.

When the weight becomes too much, he’s by your side when he’s off from deployments. He pulls you into one of those tight and all-consuming hugs, head on top of yours and lightly rocking you back and forth while you cry it out. Whispering into your scalp and rubbing his hand up and down your spine. Gaz breathes you down, concern tight in his face and his jaw clenched to restrain the flood of what he wants to say—you only need him to hold you and tell you things are going to be okay, so that’s what he does.

NSFW-wise, he’s just as attentive. He’s not inexperienced, either—he knows how to please you and has no trouble forsaking his painful hard-on just to get you off as many times as it takes with his fingers/mouth.

Personally, I think he has an oral fixation. Loves watching you writhe above him as he goes down on you, or, heaven forbid he gets you to sit on his face. Goes absolutely feral as his face gets drenched and he feels your nails on his scalp. Moans/groans/grunts unabashedly as his hands grip your thighs and ass, letting your hips jump and tighten around him.

Does not care if you’re worried about your weight.

“I wouldn’t be asking if I didn’t want it, Love.”

Make him go lightheaded. He’s begging you.

Gaz is a switch—top, bottom, doesn’t matter, he’s making you feel good and you’re making him feel amazing so it doesn’t bother him if you suddenly shove him over and climb on top mid-fuck. His hands snap and help you ride him, head tilting back into the pillow and mouth opening in breathless groans.

I don’t see him as incredibly into rough sex—he would never hurt you, and anything that involves that would make him nervous about your safety. Very light breathplay is alright, but he’s not going to apply more pressure than a light squeeze. Gets upset if he finds any marks beyond hickeys on you—kisses them and mutters apologies into your skin as he continues rutting into you softly.

Very into overstimulation and edging on both parts.

Bring him to tears and leave him wanting you until he’s physically shaking and trying to grab at himself even as he’s hissing at the slight sizzles of pain.

But, above all of that, he always wants to see your eyes while he’s pounding into you—missionary is his go-to until you decide you want to move/change/etc. The man just likes making sure you’re enjoying yourself, and that in and of itself helps get him off. Moan for him, be as loud as you want, it’s like a present as your eyes go all glossy and pleasure-drunk.

Will tease you about it though. I don’t make the rules.

“That good, Love? Yeah? Fuckin’ hell, hear that down there? Dripin’ for me—c’mon let me hear it, then. Let me hear those sounds from that pretty mouth. There we are, just like that. No need to be shy.”

Just slam your lips to his to shut him up, he can’t resist you—it’ll even make him move a bit faster.

All and all 10/10 boyfriend/husband material if you can deal with him being away for long periods of time for deployments.

No doubt he always makes it up to you on leave.

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apocalypseornaw · 6 months

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Real or Not (Pt 3/5)

Dean Winchester x Reader

You and the boys meet up with Camila

@lacilou you wanted pain

A/N: remember before you get too mad at Dean there's 2 more chapters!!

If there was one thing you'd learnt in your life especially as a hunter was using the fake it till you make it method. Bobby always said to keep your shoulders squared and head held high, even when you were terrified because it put forth the idea that you weren't.

You'd been silent the entire two hour car ride. You didn't want to speak to Sam nor Dean. You'd even taken the backseat saying you just had a small headache and wanted a quick nap. Rather Dean believed you or not you weren't sure.

"Maybe he doesn't care" the moment the thought slipped through your mind you felt a little bit of guilt for having such little faith in the man You'd spent the last few years in the bed of and so long before that as a friend to. He cared he just didn't assume to think you would lie to him.

-------------

You actually almost dozed off about the time you felt the impala slow down and looked up to see Dean was pulling into a motel parking lot. You took a deep breath the moment you spotted Camila's mustang. You could do this, you were pretty damn professional when it came to the job, people were at risk.... kids. You could swallow anything you threw your way if it meant saving kids.

Sam glanced over his shoulder at you and you could see the unspoken question in his eyes "Sure you ok?" You gave him a small smile as Dean parked. You climbed out slowly, smoothing a hand down over your hair. You could do this.

----------------

The moment the door to room three twenty two opened you heard Donna's voice flash through your mind "No one can make you feel bad about yourself unless you let em"

Camila was well if you were being honest nothing short of gorgeous. She was five foot nine so she was leggy, dark black hair was braided back in an intricate style leaving her bright blue eyes clear. The moment she spotted Dean a smile split her face and you felt your heart drop. You could do this.

She walked over to the three of you, her attention clearly on Dean as she said "Thanks for coming. I knew I needed backup as soon as I figured out what I was dealing with" Dean nodded "Sure thing" then turned towards you "You remember Y/N don't ya?"

Camila's eyes narrowed slightly when she looked at you but schooled her features before Dean or Sam saw it "Of course! You're Vivians niece" you forced a smile onto your face "That'd be me" Dean reached out and pulled you into his side "Well since we're all caught up want to update us on the case?"

If looks could kill you'd either be in heaven or hell just from the way Camila stared you down once she realized you and Dean were indeed together and it wasn't just a rumor floating around the hunters mill.

"Of course Deany" you felt yourself bristle but held it in. Kids were at risk, you had to remind yourself that.

The location of where the kids had to be was narrowed down to two places. You stood next to Dean, across the table from Camila and Sam. Like it or not this was her case and her lead. She smiled at you "Y/N, we both know these two work best as a team as why don't they take one location and we take the other" there was something in her eyes, a challenge. She thought you'd back down.

You returned her smile fully "Guessing we're taking your car then because mines home at the bunker" She nodded "Of course"

---------------

You were at the trunk of the impala taking one of the impromptu flamethrowers Dean held out. You were hoping your feelings weren't showing on your face but those hopes were dashed when he said "Y/N, you good?"

You nodded "Aces" he stared at you for a second then nodded "Be safe, come back to me in one piece" it probably shouldn't have bothered you but when he leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead instead of your lips you felt your stomach drop. He kissed Jody, Donna and Charlie on the forehead, not you.

You refused to fight before a hunt so you smiled "You too" then walked over to where Camila stood, very much looking like she was planning to feed you to a changeling.

"Ready to go?" You nodded as you heard the boys shut the doors of the impala. The moment the engine roared to life her smile dropped "a little strange he doesn't kiss you before a hunt, he always called it a good luck charm when he was with me" you felt your mouth fall open at her comment but once again that overly friendly mask fell into place "I'm kidding of course! I know this is a little awkward"

You laughed lightly but the only thought you had was to knock her perfectly white teeth down her throat and say you were joking. Instead you climbed into her car and shut the door.

----------------

You walked through the abandoned warehouse slowly, checking every corner. The further you walked the more you were beginning to think the boys had caught the action. Camila was nearby, you could hear her footfalls echoing.

"Ya know Y/N, how long have you been with Dean?" You rolled your eyes before saying "Should we really be discussing my relationship mid hunt" she let out a bark of laughter "Oh come on sweetcheeks. It's apparent thr boys caught the fun. Why can't we talk a little"

You spun on your heel to see she was about two feet from you "I've been with Dean a few years" she nodded slowly "when did you move into the bunker" you shrugged "a few months after they found it" "so right after me and him broke up?" You shrugged again "Don't keep up with other people's relationships"

You started back walking, with intentions to head outside but stopped when she said "Funny that timeline is around the same time I told him to move on that I wasn't coming back to him" You felt your shoulders tense "What are you trying to say here Camila?"

She walked around you to be facing you before a smile slipped onto her face "Dean got with you because he couldn't have me. Want me to pull up the emails from us talking? Of him telling me how he loved me?" You knew your face had fallen even before she said "Oh honey did you think he followed up this" she motioned to herself then to you "With that?"

You'd taken enough, you swung on her felt a sense of satisfaction when it connected solidly. Instead of trying to swing back she simply cradled her jaw and smiled despite the blood dripped from her now split lip "I hit a nerve. You know I could have him back tonight. He loved me more than Lisa or Cassie. I went through thinking he wasn't what I wanted but he is, and you need to face it"

"If he still wants you why is he with me then?" You asked, mustering every ounce of false bravado you could. She took a step towards you "Did you know he was looking at rings at one point? He would've stopped hunting if I'd asked. Does that really compare to you and him? Has he even said he loves you?" You didn't reply but your face must have shown because she made a tsk tsk sound "You poor thing"

You could feel your hands shaking by that point and damn her she grinned "Oh feel free to hit me again! I can play victim then! Dean I don't know what happened she just attacked me" you motioned to the door of the warehouse "Leave now"

She motioned around "What, are you gonna walk?" You squared your shoulders and got nose to nose with her "If Dean wants a two faced bitch over an honest woman so fucking be it but I won't be disrespected" she cackled like a mad woman "You're a crazy bitch" before turning and walking out.

You waited until you heard her mustang pull over to let the tears that had been threatening to escape fall. She'd just picked at every fucking insecurity you had. Maybe she was right, if Dean loved her enough to even consider giving up hunting maybe you should take yourself out of the equation.

You walked out into the cool night air about the time your phone started ringing. It was Dean. You answered it "Hello?" The voice that hit your ears made your heart freeze over. Camila replied "Told ya" you hung up and stared at your phone before hitting Donna's number.

---------

You climbed into Claire's car and knew she had questions from the look in her eyes but luckily she didn't say anything besides "You headed to Donna's?" You nodded slowly before turning off your phone. Dean's number kept calling but you refused to hear Camilas voice any more. She'd won, you'd lost the man you loved.

@psychicbouquetblaze-stuff

@lacilou @saranghaey @stoneyggirl2 @marimarvelfan @roseblue373 @suckitands33 @backtotheshitshow @jackles010378 @leigh70 @diagnosedpsychosis @badassbitch-21

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x female!reader #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfiction #dean winchester fanfiction #real or not mini series

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getosbunsblog · 1 year

Note

Can I request headcannons of yandere Leviathan x reader if you're comfortable with that. Maybe some CNC but if you aren't comfortable with it that's okay! If the reader has to be genderd preferably male, but it's your choice. Have a nice day.

YANDERE LEVI HELL YEA

“Now baby start moving”

CW; CNC, DUBCON, just regular Yandere themes, ALSO TWO COCK LEVI

Yandere levi! Would keep you locked away in his room for days, everything you need is there, food, water, a bathroom and finally, him

All you need is him really, his love and his cocks

Sometimes you climb in his lap sad and crying, telling him you wanna go outside. He won’t take too kindly to your begging

“What am I not good enough!?” He held you so tight that it was constricting your breathing

“No baby I promise you are, just maybe we can do different things together” you clung onto his shirt tightly

“Different things…huh?” He says with that look your all to familiar with. His hands slide down to hold your ass and squeeze

“Levi, sweetheart. I’m a bit tired” he didn’t look to amused at the excuse

“Well then after we can take a nice nap and cuddle? Sounds good right?” He said Petting you like a puppy

You knew there was no getting out of this so you sat up and started to strip for him. He bit his lip and smiled at you.

After you were fully exposed you stood for a second before going on your knees towards Levi’s crotch.

You unbuckled his pants and let his cocks spring out, you never knew which one to pick. You chose the bottom one

Swirling your tongue around it he shivered “f-fuck baby~”

He was very pent up, you haven’t seen him cum in over a week. You then started to stroke the top cock. All that was coming out of him were little swears and moans

When you had him all the way in he pulled your face off by your hair, salvia and precum dripping out of your mouth

“Come ontop of me honey” he gave a firm order and he laid down long-ways on the couch

You listened and got into his favorite position. Slowly sitting yourself on his massive lower cock. The noises coming out of you were ethereal to levi, he was in his own heaven

You made it almost half way on your own before you took a break. “Ah~ levi~ give me a minute”

He just giggled at you and thrusted up violently. You screamed and moaned so loud you knew all the others heard you “So cute! Your slutty little hole never gets used to my big demon cock!” He blushed at a new thought “what if I put both in the same hole today?”

You looked at him like a deer at headlights “never mind you aren’t stretched enough for today” sometimes he was so considerate

He then moved his long and thin fingers to your sex “Such a mess, and all for me, adorable” he took his finger and licked it clean

“Now baby start moving”

#levi smut #obey me smut #obey me #obey me lemon #levi x reader #leviathan #leviathan smut #obey me dateables #obey me levi smut

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chvnnie · 3 months

Note

hey. hey. do you. have any. perhaps. thoughts. about minho.

FUNNY YOU SHOULD I ASK I WAS QUITE LITERALLY JUST THINKING ABOUT NOEASY ERA MINHO, SPECIFICALLY CHEESE MV MINHO.

there’s just. something about that motorcycle.

the leather vest, the way his hair is so perfectly slicked back. the way the green light of the bar highlights his feature perfectly, sharp jaw nudging against your collarbones as he looses himself in your neck.

sharp teeth dig into the skin, only soothed by the jolting of his tongue. the marks deepening in color. minho commits time to making sure of it.

it was a risky move — his larger hand in yours, tugged out the backdoor. through the rows of cars until you found the motorcycle you’re all too familiar with.

he chuckles when you pull at his shirt, alcohol making you needier than you should be. “are you sure this is a good idea?” the brisk late winter air pricks his neck and he’s suddenly very aware of how exposed you both are.

you hum, the hands on his shoulders gently pushing him back. the vehicle moves slightly under his weight, minho squeezing the edge of the seat to stay grounded. “straddle it.”

those two shots really gave you some confidence, huh? “your wish is my command.” he climbs onto it, leaving a little space between his lap and the handles for you. it’s lucky you wore a skirt today; hiking it up as you take a seat on him.

your clothed core rolls against his rough jeans. head rolled back in pleasure, you moan into the open air, drowned out only slightly by the music floating out of the bar. as pretty as you think minho is, he’s convinced you’re not human. how can flesh and blood be so ethereal? the marks he left on you earlier are angry. broken skin glowing under your sweat and the moonlight.

god, you just exist and minho is smitten. prepared to walk into the depths of hell if it meant a second alone with you.

“fuck, baby.” he groans, hands on your hips lifting you ever so slightly. the loss of contact makes your head snap back up, pouting at him with your plush lips. “need to feel you.”

you work quickly with his belt, letting it hit the gravel next to the bike’s tire. within seconds, his cock is out — beautifully curved and hard in your grasp.

there’s no time for prep, not when the voices of the friday night crowd are starting to filter outside. people ready to call it a night at almost midnight. pulling your panties to the side, you line your hole with the head of him, quickly sliding down despite the sting.

groaning in unison, minho grabs the nape of your neck. lips slam against yours, moving in a mess of heat and teeth and tongue. the taste of his whiskey fills your mouth, and god. god you feel far more intoxicated than you actually are thanks to him.

“that’s it.” he mumbles against your mouth, other hand quickly finding your ass. he pushes up the rest of your skirt, desperate to feel the plush of your ass against his palm. “fucking ride me like the slut you are.”

the slight degradation makes your head spin, bouncing quickly up and down on his cock. it fills you so wonderfully, head pushing against your sweet spot without much work. the night sky is dark, yet you’re seeing stars, right at the precipice of ecstasy.

“min.” you breathe into him, and he’s convinced this trashy bar parking lot is heaven. “min, i—“

letting go of your neck, his head falls between your legs. an expert on all things you, he finds your clit with ease, thumb brushing the bud in firm circles.

“let me feel it.” he encourages you, his cock twitching as his own edge approaches.

when you both cum, bodies melding into one, your screams are muffled by his lips. a sound that only he can hear, that only he can love. your hips slow, overstimulation raging up and down your spine. his kisses move to your jaw once you’ve quieted down, softly mumbling praises against it.

so consumed. so happy. so lost in each other than neither of you notice the footsteps that are growing in volume. headed straight towards the two of you.

this was shit sorry i wrote it at work

#skz smut #stray kids smut #lee know smut #minho smut #lee minho smut

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drconstellation · 7 months

Text

All The Colours of the GO Rainbow

Updated 11 Nov 2023

Edit note: I've done quite a big update on Red, Green and Blue, so if you read this before 11 Nov 2023 it might be worth reading it again.

I'm writing this meta about colours in the Good Omens AU in preparation for some future metas I'm planning, where colour will be important. And yes, I'm going to use "colour" as the spelling, as I'm an Australian and I use the UK English as my usual go-to version of English (that is what I was taught at school,) even though I am finding myself flicking between US and UK English here on Tumblr, leaving out u's here and there and putting in z's where I would normally put s's.

I also think its worth having another discussion about it as there are some colours I've have seen discussed here and there, but not at length, and some not at all that I think are important, and I just want to bring them all to one place.

I'm also going to be referring to @cobragardens excellent meta The Colors of Crowley quite a bit in this meta at various points, so you might want to pause and go read that first, then come back.

BLACK

Most people's initial reaction would be to class black as a colour of Hell. Crowley wears a lot of black, and usually a hidden accent of red (aaand something else. I'll discuss that at the end.) But the other demons are actually quite colourful when you get them into the light. They may tend towards the darker shades but there is quite a range of colours seen. Dagon, for example, is a very dark blue, as their avatar is a marine fish. Normally blue is associated with Heaven in GO. But this fits better if we think of black as being the colour of shadow, where the light does not reach, and the place of hidden things, of mystery

And it's worth noting that Aziraphale wears some black when he is trying to perform a magic show. He also wears white and gold at the same time but normally he does not wear these colours, unless he is performing human magic (see S1E1, Warlock's 11th birthday party, and the 1941 minisode S2E4) This should be striking enough for you to sit up and take note. You could say when Aziraphale dons black it is an expression of his act of "mysteriosity."

RED

Again, red is not necessarily a demonic colour, although we tend to associate it with demons, as Lord Beelzebub and Lord Dagon both wear red sashes as a mark of their rank in Hell. Think of it more as the colour of passion and romance in GO. Ooh, got you there! Makes you wonder what Shax is really up to (I know some of you have.) Perhaps they are just passionate about doing their job, or climbing their way to the top of the demonic ranking ladder?

Edit: After writing up a couple of other metas and some more reading maybe a better description is "devotional passion." Shax is devoted to climbing the power ladder in Hell (her red is usually a darker shade of red than Crowley's,) and the Red Team in the paintball fight at Tadfield Manor in S1E2 is devoted to following the rules of Management. Crowley is devoted to Aziraphale, of course.

In Christianity red has an association with the left-hand side, or the sinister side. In GO we tend to call this the "demon side" as there is a lot of shot blocking for shoulder-angels and shoulder-demons. Crowley is typically on Aziraphale's LHS because of this, so when he isn't, we take note. Actually you should take note of all the shot-blocking in GO because who is on the shoulder-right and who is on the shoulder-left of shot tells you so much about their moral stance in that scene! Anyway, in religious iconography it will often be Michael robed in red, with a sword, on the left of Jesus, representing the eccentric, the strange, the excessive, fire - and goats. (Hey, goats are a whole other meta, we are here to talk colour!)

Special mention to the 1941 minisode in S2E4 that is just soaked in red, everywhere you turn: in the sparks flying off the burning buildings as the sparks of love begin to fly, the inside of the book shop where Crowley encourages Aziraphale to think like a professional, the magic shop where danger and chaos lurks in every corner but magic is Aziraphale's personal passion, and the Windmill Theater where he finally gets to perform his magic passion on the stage. Several ops see this as a special memory of Aziraphale's so he colours it with the red of romance. We've got big hopes of seeing a third part to 1941 in S3. Some of this red is also used as a metaphor for flames and fire (there always seems to be something burning after a gun is fired) - we are fanning the flames of passion again!

GOLD

Gold is one the colours of Heaven. Nearly all the angels have some form of gold on them at some point. A gold ring, gold embroidery on their clothes, a golden brooch, gold on their face, Aziraphale's gold watch fob (he has a ring, too). We also see multiple golden lions in various places, which appear to have a connection to Heaven and Jesus. (I'm still planning to write a meta on the lions in the future, but I've got to find them all first! They keep turning up in surprising places...) The lions have a royal connection, one of two royal mentions in this meta, in that they represent the connection Jesus has to the Royal house of Judah, and are a symbol of his return in the Second Coming.

YELLOW

Yellow in GO is probably the hardest colour to interpret. We see a lot of it, because Aziraphale is so fond of it, being the colour of Crowley's eyes. The walls of the book shop are painted yellow, he gives Jimbriel a yellow feather duster to use and he turns the Bentley yellow on the trip up to Edinburgh, much to Crowley's disgust. (To be fair, Crowley's Mayfair flat in S1 was colour-coded to Aziraphale's eyes in return, in greys and subtle blues, but that's another discussion.)

But I think the important thing to emphasis here is that yellow is NOT the same as gold, and we shouldn't blend the two colours together.

While some point out that yellow can be seen as an imperial or royal colour, as it is the colour of the Sun, when you put this colour in context in the GO AU, it more clearly points to being the colour of fear, as Cobragarden's explains in The Colours of Crowley. I would expand on their words, and say that is why Crowley doesn't wear his sunglasses in front of Jimbriel when looking after him in the book shop - its a measure of how afraid he is that the the real Gabriel might reappear at any moment. And back in S1 when Crowley is trying to work out how to escape the burning Odegra sigil he inadvertently created Hastur appears in the front seat of the Bentley in pursuit of him and reaches out to remove his sunglasses. The shock on Crowley's face in the moment is palpable, because he realises he's in the shit unless he thinks quickly - which he bravely does!

GREEN

Green is the colour of chaos.

Originally I wrote that Green was Hell, but on after writing this and going on to write further metas (I think I’ve mentioned this elsewhere, and this is an evolving meta) and a brief discussion in the Notes at the bottom with noneorother, I decided I would re-write this for a better fit.

It still fits Hell, however, as Hell is chaos compared to Heaven. It’s overcrowded, its clogged with bundled paperwork that hasn’t been filed, there is old furniture everywhere. It’s still the overgrown suffocating swamp of decay, with the leaking pipes and the light struggling to find its way down through the mess. It’s still Furfur, with plans to unexpectedly disrupt our hero’s magic act. It’s still the colour of the fog outside the bookshop during the Eldritch Ball, signalling that things are not going to plan. Demons love chaos, its their purpose. It’s the opposite to Heaven, which is rigid and structured.

A recent post from @noneorother highlights that the intense green used for Hell in S2 is influenced by the the Powell & Pressburger movie The Tales of Hoffmann. They say:

Whenever something evil happens in "The automaton ball" sequence, the light changes to this sickly green. Colour is THE important symbolism in Hoffmann, so now we know green is evil.

But they wanted to add that evil is not necessarily Hell. And we would have to agree. Because Aziraphale also has a lot of green associated with him, and he has nothing to do with Hell - he's more an agent of chaos, if anything. He's unpredictable. Let us address this in it's own section below.

Veridian/Teal/Aquamarine

This is a special section to discuss the blue-green hues that Aziraphale wears. Heaven mixed with Hell. Lawful mixed with Chaos. He is one unique angel. The first sight of these colours is in 1601, when we find out that the Arrangement first proposed by Crowley in 537 is now in full swing, where he has some teal strips in his Elizabethan costume.

While I'm told its traditional to have a darker colour on the back panel of waistcoats, it's notable that the back of Aziraphale's waistcoat is a distinctly dark viridian green. Why not dark blue? Or a shade of brown to go with the other shades of brown and beige the angels tend to wear? But what's the meta-writer's motto in GO? There are no accidents...

He also wears a pale aquamarine shirt in the present day. (wearecrowley has posted a nice set of GIFs that highlight it here) No white for him since 1941 at least, although his 1821 shirt also looks green to me, but its hard to tell in the dim candlelight of night time Edinburgh (unless he is performing magic, then he is in white, gold, and mysterious black or being discorporated, then he is colourless white - back to his "native" state, like Muriel in her Earthly Inspector uniform.) The cape he wears in the 1941 minisode is also a fascinating colour. I am having trouble pinning down exactly what it would be called - Teal? A darker aquamarine? Perhaps turquoise. It's certainly part of his colour palette, and still indicating a lawful-chaos mix. A "dark horse" indeed!

[Edit: So i saw someone describe Heaven and Hell as Lawfulness and Chaos, and I thought that was a perfect fit for Aziraphale here with his blue-greens. Remember Crowley described him as "unpredictable" to Nina? Yeah...]

[Edit 2: I've made some changes above because I re-wrote the section on Green. This is an evolving meta!]

BLUE

Blue is a signal of Heaven, the colour of the sky, and a colour traditionally associated with the archangels Gabriel and Michael. We see it in a number of places, in both S1 and S2, where it is used with deliberate care.

Usually a primary shade of blue, this represents the rigid lawfulness and rules of Heaven, as compared to the chaos associated with Hell. In Christian iconography blue is what Gabriel wears as the right-hand-side shoulder angel to Jesus. It represents the Law, mercy, protection, water, sheep(!) and foundation. The "good" shoulder angel is always on the right shoulder in shot-blocking in the show.

Below are some examples of where we see it:

The blue paint on the back of Aziraphale's coat when he gets hit by a paintball at Tadfield Manor in S1E2.

The colour of Newt's car, Dick Turpin (which actually presents an interesting juxtaposition, as Newt is a Crowley parallel.)

The colour of the external walls of the coffee shop in S2, and some of the inside, which is also the same as the take-away cups, such as the one the Metatron offers to Aziraphale.

The colour of the gecko Jemima asks to be turned into in the Job minisode.

The colour of the suit Jimbriel wears at the eldritch ball, and the glorious ostrich feather jacket he dons when he exits the book shop to give himself up to the demons.

PURPLE

Purple has long been the colour of royalty, since ancient days. This was for good reason - there was only one natural source of the rich purple dye. That came from a small marine snail that was found on the coast of modern day Lebanon, near Tyre, and they held the monopoly on this trade for centuries. Only kings and emperor's could afford to have cloth dyed in this colour, known as Tyrian purple. It wasn't until the first synthetic purple dye was created in 1856 that the common man could afford to wear it as well.

In Good Omens we see Gabriel, the Prince of Heaven, wearing this colour in his ties, and also showing it in his irises in both S1 and S2. But only when he is Gabriel, not as Jim.

[Edit: So I only just found out that the colour he wears is lilac and is modeled after Elizabeth Taylor's famous eyes. But hey, she was a queen of the screen - movie royalty! And you still need to explain all the other purple below. Also, she was only born around 100 years ago and Gabriel has theoretically been around for...a lot longer, so I'd say Gabriel came first.]

There are a couple of other places we see it used. One is when angel Crowley starts up his nebula. The plume of miracle energy emanating from the book shop after the 25 lazurii miracle is also this colour.

Archangel Saraqael's chair is purple when she is on Earth. And Saraqael and Muriel both have purple in their tartan when in Heaven.

WHITE

White is the colour of the angels. It is the colour of Aziraphale's wings and the colour of his robes during ancient times from the Beginning up to Rome. Once the Arrangement starts, the white starts to be replaced with other colours, and the shades of teal and other blue-greens start to appear.

By the present day he has virtually lost all trace of white, except for his hair. He then only appears in all white when discorporated.

Muriel turns up in a conspicuously bright white police uniform on Earth, and the other angels all have some form of white on them.

Crowley sometimes has small accents of white as well. They can be easily missed, such as the white shirt cuff protruding from his sleek black Elizabethan costume in 1601. Remember they are discussing the Arrangement here - so they are both showing signs of taking on each other's colours at this point. On the other hand, I know quite a few people have commented on the white in his 1941 garb, on his tie, and his pocket handkerchief (and remember, he wears a grey shirt, not black, because he doesn't want to be mistaken for a black-shirted fascist during the war years.)

SILVER/GRAY

There are two colours I keep seeing that I'm going to group together as one, and that is silver and gray.

The senior archangels are notably dressed in what I've seen described as dove-gray, but an article on the costumes calls it pearl-gray, and it was meant to look a bit shimmery. I sometimes refer to this group of angels as the Archangels with the capital A, or the seraphim, the closest angels to God. This includes Gabriel, our current Prince of Heaven, Michael, Uriel. And I'm going to include Crowley in his trademark Tactical Turtleneck master spy disguise when he infiltrated Heaven with Muriel in S2E6. Hey, he could have worn white!

So where does this colour come from?

I've spent a bit of time banging on in the past about "traditional colours" of the archangels, in particular Gabriel and Michael's being blue, and the missing Raphael's being green. Part of the problem is, though, if you go looking online for who's colour is whose, you get a big variation in answers. Michael nearly always comes out with being associated with blue, and Raphael with green, so no problem there, but all the other traditionally named seraphim seem to get other colours put against them. For Gabriel, though, a commonly associated colour does appear to be white or silver.

Now my guess would be that sparkly silver would be too naff a look for the angels. I mean, look at what Crowley manifests as a blending-in "bees" disguise, a slightly shiny grayish suit, which kind of mocks the other Archangels (and you're overdoing the gold hints there a bit, Crowley) but it is curiously the same style as Saraqael's garb, and they did supposedly work together on the Horsehead Nebula. Hmmm. The Archangel's pearl-gray suits look very corporate and business-like, echoing a large soul-crushing business entity.

But this is not the only time Crowley wears this upper echelon colour; he has quite a habit of wearing it, particularly once the Arrangement kicks in.

The problem is, he nearly always wears near-solid black (unless he is trying not to get killed, like in 1793 Paris - Cobragarden's meta on the context why here - or 1941 London - see above,) so it stands out. I find this a far more interesting than the red accents, and should note that we don't always see it on him; its not there in 1967, for example.

One colour that is noticeably missing in the full GO rainbow is orange. We don't get it handed to us on a plate as much as the other colours do. Perhaps one exception is the sign for The Resurrectionist pub in Edinburgh, where Jesus is wearing an orange robe under a blue cloth. [Edit: It must be my screen colour, its been mentioned to me that the under-robe is actually crimson red.]

So now we have run through all the colours, it can be interesting to look at them in combination.

Bonus points for noticing the white mugs for the S2 coffee shop (six-shots of espresso,) to go with the blue take-away cups. The shop is blue-white-gold themed. Truly meant to be a place where Heaven is obtainable on Earth! It also kind of reminds me of the sky - blue sky overhead, white clouds, and a golden Sun shining down (from the brass lamps.) [Edit: There is a paler green inside the coffee shop - its easy to miss, we are too busy watching the characters!]

The book shop also has a combination of colours - predominately red and yellow. Yellow for fear, and red for passion and romance. Ouch, what a combination!

Aziraphales's white, gold and black combination for performing magic also has me intrigued. It's not just the black, but so much golden colour in the form of a golden vest. And we get it both times in both 1941 and 2019. An angel from Heaven trying to hide what he really is.

I've added an extra section below as part of a reblog on the angel off-whites and shades of brown that also appear, as I realised I missed them, and do a character analysis of the Metatron, so make sure you read that as well.

If you are interested in my analysis on the tartan in GO I've one here at: What the Tartan Tells Us

For further meta reading on colour in GO try the following:

If you haven't read it yet, do go and read Cobragardens The Colours of Crowley, Red and Yellow can hurt a fellow: Colour Symbolism in 1941 Part 1 and Part 2 as it makes the colours more character specific, whereas I've tried to give the colours a more over-arching theme here.

And for the importance of the yellow colour Vavavoom! which is used on the book shop walls, (and matches Crowley's eyes) see Vidavalors post on The Vavoom: Or, when the show's hinting Crowley & Aziraphale first kissed

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bowieandqueen11 · 2 years

Text

Looking After A Sick Billy Butcher Would Include...

Request: I love your Billy Butcher headcanons so much! 🥰 If you are looking for another Billy Butcher idea i think either 'Looking after a Sick Billy Butcher' or 'Billy Butcher with a Plus Size reader' would be adorable, as your Steven Grant ones are so beautifully written 💕 thank you for all your incredible writing, you are truly amazing 💐

Oh thank you so much @missscarlettangel!!! You’re always the loveliest and kindest

Warning: a little strong language and slight NSFW!

(I do not own The Boys or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @9thblogboyz.)

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

Billy Butcher is such a dramatic ass hoe when’s sick dearie me. If you think he’s an annoying git before this, just wait until the sniffles start settling in, the man could annoy a saint to high heaven.

The man will not stay in bed. At all. You came into the home base to immediately be greeted with a near-crying Hughie and near-fuming Kimiko trying to wrestle the a**hole down onto his bed. Naturally, this ended with Hughie flying back and landing ass over tea cup through the bed side table and half off the wall, and Kimiko releasing her failing grip on his arm in shock. As soon as Billy spots you standing there, he comes swaggering out from the room, clad in his black jumper and jeans and pretending that he’s ‘alright, love. Me ‘ead is just a bit unda the weather today, that’s all.’ Even with his slick words, you can tell by how sweaty his forehead is that the man is about to keel over. He’s so damn stubborn - too prideful to admit that he could ever have a fault, but deep down, he’s also scared stricken to think he has an exploitable weakness when he’s supposed to be the big mad Charcuter. He’ll only let you touch him: and so you do, wrapping an arm past the buckles of his belt and holding onto the thick muscles around his hip. He jauntily wraps an arm around your shoulder, pretending to be as cocky as ever as you stroll him towards the living area.

‘Thanks darlin’, he whispers against the tip of your ear with a ragged breath. ‘I couldn’t take the yammering of them two cunts in my face any more. I’m glad you’re back now, we got a new job-’. He lets go of you, fisting his hand and hacking a cough against it until you push him down on the sofa to make him nap.

He’s literally that knackered that he passes out pretty much straight away. You sigh, squatting down near the window to pull off his boots and leave them resting under the perch. You wave at Hughie as he sneaks out on his tip toes like he’s in ‘Scooby Doo’ towards the door and mouths exaggeratedly at you that he’s ‘going to get some soup’. Once you’re done smiling him out, you lift Butcher’s head and wiggle onto the sofa underneath him, gently squishing his cheek back down onto your lap. For once you’re overjoyed that M.M. and Frenchie are busy arguing as they stand in front of a makeshift cork board in the safe, or Billy would never let you hear the end of it for making look like such a sap. You’re stuck there for a while: Billy whimpers in his sleep, his arms ending up at some point wrapping around your knees and sticking you in place under his thick biceps.

The man is still clambering all over you as soon as he wakes up though. It could be the literal raining hell fire of the end of days washing down on the two of you and Billy Butcher would still be trying to climb over you like a tree. Not even in a fully sexual way - he adores you more than anything in this world, and needs some kind of constant touch when he’s feeling unsure as a reassurance that you’re still real. That you haven’t left him yet too. That he hasn’t destroyed you. You could be be sitting cross legged on the sofa next to him, huffing as you pull the blanket back up his shoulders every time Billy grumbles and pulls it off again. Dropping the cup of tea he was sipping, he uses his large fingers to quickly grab yours and pound them both down on the table. The desperation is evident in every sharp movement: the way he’s straight to grabbing your waist and pulling you onto his lap till you’re straddling his thick thighs, the pressure of his chin as his stubble scratches the curve of your neck, right under your earlobe. By the smirk you can feel, you know he’s doing it just to tease you, knowing it drives you wild. His arms wrap like an iron vice as he peppers languid, unrushed kisses up your pulse point. Like I’m sorry but can you imagine those coarse, rough, devoting hands running up your shoulders? Those harsh thumbs gripping the back of your head tightly and pulling you back until he’s angled you perfectly? You’re putty in his grasp, and as he grinds his midriff up against you and hears the pained whine fall from your lips, he knows it. He wets his lips, attacking your chin, and then the corner of your mouth - and then he ends up sneezing before his desperate mouth can rove any further.

The problem is, he sneezes exactly as M.M. is walking past; the poor man is just holding a cup of coffee, minding his own business as he goes to read his file in his desk chair. After a moment of standing there in confusion, he runs off to shower and makes Frenchie and Annie hose down his clothes outside for half an hour straight. He spends the rest of the day glaring at Butcher from his desk, taking out antiseptic wipes every ten minutes and spraying a can of air freshener out in his direction with a disgusted frown.

You know better than to try and feed Billy. The man would literally snap your fingers off. Sadly, Frenchie was still under the illusion that he could just... skirt around this lesson, and came waddling happily towards Butcher with Hughie’s broth in one arm and a holding a spoon with the other. Once the airplane noises start, and the whooshing spoon through the air... well, let’s just say that it is a very lucky coincidence that there was so much traffic down fifth avenue today and the broth was tepid by the time Hughie got back. Two hours later, Frenchie is still running around with wet trousers, picking pieces of celery out of his pants and running after M.M. every time he calls him ‘pee pee boy’.

Billy always acts as if everyone’s annoying the heck out of him, but in reality, he just wants to be left alone with you for a while. By ten o’clock he’s so fed up of Hughie throwing him pity looks, and Frenchie pecking like a mother hen in his face, that he gets up and locks himself in the bathroom just to breathe for a damn minute. When you hesitantly knock twice on the door, and he unlocks it, on the floor is where you find him: curled up with his back to the wall and his knees drawn up to his chest, trying to drown out the memories of how similar the withdrawals from compound V felt as they pound through his brain. You’ll have to sit by his side, huddled up with your arm looped through his stiff one and spreading your fingers out over his kneecap, massaging it. Although he doesn’t like too much physical touch when he’s so withdrawn as he is, if your fingers leave his knee for one second he’ll start whining like a kicked puppy.

You do get to help him change out of his jumper at the end of the night though hm hm (even though he’s bloody perfectly well enough to do it himself and you both know it.) He has that shit eating smirk on his face when he sees you back in his doorway, and he holds his hands out to you, beckoning you towards him. He takes a few steps back once he feels your fingers latch onto the pads of his own, his face lighting into a smile as you draw them down to tug at the hem of the rugged material. Before you can lift it though, he brings his sock round to kick the back of your heel and has you tumbling over the edge of the bed to lie on top of his chest.

And then... *ahem*... well let’s just say that all the clothes came off pretty quickly shall we?

By the way Hughie is literally sinking his face into the cereal bowl the next morning: the way Frenchie is trying to hide his spurts of laughter from where he’s playing cards with Kimiko: how M.M. rolls his eyes and lifts his newspaper to cover his face when the two of you come dandering out of his room, you didn’t manage to be as discrete as a *sick* Billy Butcher believes himself to be. His pair of undies swinging from the ceiling fan all but confirms it.

#the boys #the boys imagine #billy butcher #billy butcher imagine #billy butcher x reader #billy butcher headcanons #karl urban #the boys x reader #the boys headcanons #billy the boys #billy the boys imagine #billy butcher the boys #billy butcher the boys imagine #mm #mothers milk #frenchie #annie january #hughie campbell #kimiko

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florestmoon · 2 years

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86’ (Eddie Munson x Reader)

Summary: 1986 was suppose to be Eddie’s year. It was suppose to be the numbers that marked his diploma that he was going to snatch from Principle Higgins and the year he ran like hell out of Hawkins. Now, as 1986 marked your gravestone, he wished you had ran.

Aka you die instead of Eddie and Max during the battle with Vecna.

Warnings: character death (you), mentions of blood and gore, grief, no comfort. Bittersweet ending though.

A/n: I woke up at 3am and only had this idea in my head , and had to get this out of my system because I love making myself and others cry. I listened to Romantic Homicide by d4vd the whole time.

Word count: 4.8k of pure angst.

The screeching and pounding against the trailers walls made Eddie realize how truly fucked you all were. He could hear the wooden door that separated the demobats in his room from following the three of you beginning to crack under all the weight.

Dustin was scrambling up the rope, his panic grunts followed by your own panicked yells for him to be careful had Eddie staring between the both of you and the door. Waiting for the second it breaks , hoping he would have enough strength to block the bastards from getting to you with the weapon in his hands.

“Eddie !” You yelled, snapping out of his thoughts and pulling his arm towards you. “Go!”

“What?” Eddie snapped his head towards you, looking up at the hole to see Dustin already pulling himself up from the mattress on the other side. “No, you go first! Hurry , climb!”

“Fuck no. I know you.” You grit through your teeth, pushing the rope in his hands. “You’ll pull something stupid. So go , before we both turn into bat dinner.”

He hesitates for a second, staring wide eyed at you. He was ready to grab you and throw you himself, but with the sound of the wood finally cracking and the demobats getting loud, he resigns himself to pulling himself up the rope as fast as he could. He never prided himself in being the top of gym class, but with the way he had climbed into through portal in just 3 seconds, you would think he passed the class with flying numbers .

He wasted no time to get up and stood under the hole, ready to catch you when you fell. But when he looked up and was met with your sad eyes, a smile that matched them. He knew he made a mistake.

“No. No. No. No,NO!” He cried,reaching to grab the rope to try to climb up again but you had pulled out a knife, cutting through it and pulled it into the upside down. His fingers reaching to try to catch it before it did, as he yelled. “NO! Y/N. DONT!”

“I’m sorry Eddie.”

“What are you doing!?”

“What are you doing?” Eddie laughed from the driver seat of his van. He glanced towards you, sitting on the passenger side as you were rummaging through the many cassette tapes on your lap. Your tongue sticking out from between your lips as you concentrated on the different tracks.

“I need to find something that will calm my nerves!” Many tapes were discarded to the side in your haste. “Eddie, how the hell do you only have metal bands. I mean I’m not saying they’re bad , trust me . But how am I suppose to think clearly with these guitars blasting my eardrums right now. Seriously…”

He reached over to turn the volume down of said guitar solo that was rumbling through his speakers, letting out a small laugh at your rambles. You were mumbling as you glared at the many tapes, as though hoping they would change into different artists under your harsh stare.

“I find Heaven and Hell very relaxing" he snatches the Black Sabbath tape from your hands that you were ready to toss to the back. “Puts me right to sleep at night. I sleep like a baby every time.” He grins as you roll your eyes and slump into your seat. He finally takes pity.

“Hey, don’t stress about that presentation. You’ll do great.”

You begin playing with the strap of your backpack, sighing before rubbing your eyes. “I been so anxious over it all night because fate decided I had to have that damn class in the morning.”

“You picked out your schedule, remember-”

You level him with a glare that shut up him real quick. “English is the only class I have a very low grade in and if I don’t at least get a B+ on this presentation, I may not have time to raise it up in time for graduation!”

Eddie stared at the road as he listened to you talk, Hawkins High visible over the end of the road. He looked over to you again once you stopped. “Y/N, we both know you’ll do great. I did not had to listen to your annoying voice repeat the same speech a million times for you to fail on me.”

You smack him hard on the shoulder, huffing at his exaggerated pained expression. “Easy for you to say. Ms. O’Donnell’s is happy to let you pass with a damn D so she doesn’t see you in her class ever again.”

“So rude. I think i’m pleasant to have in class.” He flinches oncce he feels the effects of your assault on his arm. “When did you get so strong?” Eddie pouts, rubbing his arm only to smile when he felt your hand on top of his as a soft apology. “Either way, we both are going to graduate this year. You think I want to walk that stage with out you? Remember what I said?”

You remained silent for a beat, forcing Eddie to sing your name. “y/nnnn”

“86’ is our year.” You mimick his voice but allow for the grin to tug on the corner of your lips. Eddie pulled into the parking lot of the high school, many students already heading towards their own classrooms.

“Fuck yeah it is. Now give them hell.”

Dustin begin cursing like crazy, his high pitch voice nearly drowning out the sound of a the demobats breaking through the door. You turned to look before disappearing out of Eddie’s sight. His only guess that you ran out of the trailer being confirmed by the demobats flying through the trailer and not paying any mind to the portal that lead to Hawkins.

“— fucking crazy! What the fuck!” Dustin was screeching, hands grabbing onto his brown curls as he turned to look at Eddie. “What..what are you doing?”

Eddie gave no response as he kicked the mattress out of the way, grabbing one of the wooden chairs that was thrown to the side of the trailer. His body was shaking from all the adrenaline and fear that was pumping in his veins, your sad smile stamped to the back of his eyelids every time he blinked.

He stepped onto the chair once he pushed it under the hole, only needing to jump a little to grab onto the sides. Dustin’s yelling continuing as Eddie kicked the chair from underneath him and pulled himself through to the other side.

“Eddie!” Dustin yelled as he watched his older friend land on his side with a shout of pain.

Shocks of pain erupted his side, prickles erupting through his skin but he pushed on. Stumbling to his feet and grabbing the trash can lid that was discarded on the floor. He wasted no time to run out of the trailer. The red sky greeting him alongside the faint sound of screaming and inhuman screeches off in the distance.

Y/N. Y/N. Y/N. It’s all he could think as he limped towards the source. His pace picking up despite the burning pain on his sides and arm , at the sound of what he heartbreakly recognized was your screams.

It was like a cloud, the way the demobats circled in one place. Surrounding you as you struggled on the ground, body thrashing and shaking from the teeth that sunk into you. Your painful screams being cut off by the slimy tail that wrapped around your throat.

“Y/N!” He yelled, his throat constricting as he sobbed at the sight of the demobats swarming around you. Your cries striking through him like lightening. It was more painful than the pain of his broken arm. It didn’t compare to any of the torture he went through in the hands of his bullies or his own father growing up. This was much much worse, and he didn’t know if he would survive it.

He continued to scream your name as he ran towards you.

“Eddie.” Your soft voice tore Eddie’s attention from the magazine in hand. Your figure standing between his doorway to his room watching him sit up on his bed. He grunted at your presence, annoyance tugging at him.

“I told Wayne to not let you in.” He mumbled as he rolled over on his stomach. The letters on the paragraphs on the random page he was on now becoming a blur. The bed sunk beside him where you laid beside him in the same position. Your hair brushing against his shoulder as you looked at the magazine.

“You know he has a soft spot for me.”

It was true. As much as Eddie wanted to be mad at his uncles broken promise, he knew the older man was as much of a victim to your sweet eyes as he was. That was the main reason he had ignored answering the door himself though, so he allowed himself to be a little bit mad at his uncles weakness.

It disappeared the moment you laid your head onto his shoulder, hands snaking toward one of his, intertwining your fingers. “I’m sorry Eddie.”

“What are you saying sorry for, you didn’t do anything”

“I know. But still.” You begin playing with his rings. “ If I didn’t stay behind to talk to Max, I would have been there when Jason and those assholes found you.”

“It’s fine.” He replies coldly, not towards you but at not wanting to think about the bruises that were beginning to form under his layers of jacket and vest.

“It’s not Eddie,” you huff stubbornly, “I could have smacked him with my binder.”

Eddie laughed at that, shaking his head at the image of your angry face and Jason’s horror. “Ah yes, he would be branded with that glittery mess you love so much. Imagine his face when he finds out he was knocked out by a dnd binder of all things.”

You giggle at the idea, his heart soaring at the sound. You both stay silent for a few moments before he looks to his side at you. Your soft eyes already on him. He finds himself beginning to talk again, because that’s what you do to him. Despite him initially not wanting to talk to anyone, you come and force him out of his shell. It was an impact only you had on Eddie “The Freak” Munson.

“I wish..things were different.” His throat clogs up and he looks away for a moment. “Like, I wasn’t hated so much. I know I joke and brush it off..but it hurts y/n.”

Tears were threatening to spill over the edge of his eyes but he forced them to stay put. “Not the punches, but the words. Why am I a freak simply because I do things I enjoy? Or the way I dress? Why does that bother them so much, why is me simply living enough for this whole town to look at me with so much hatred-”

He was rambling now, his breath becoming uneven. You pushed yourself into a sitting position and cupped his cheeks, letting him scramble for words. “Eddie..”

“Sometimes I wonder if they’re right, maybe I am..wrong. Maybe I shouldn’t be here-”

“No.” You sternly say, “they’re not right and help me god Eddie, I will not let you believe any of that bullshit.” He stays quiet as he listens to you. Doe brown eyes looking up at you, the resemblance of a small child.

“Those people, they’re just miserable themselves. And they take it out on you because they see that you have so much potential Eddie. They see that you are what they wish they could be. Brave.”

“I’m not-”

“You’re brave Eddie. You may think that you run away from things, but i’ve never seen someone so strong like you, and you make me want to be brave too.” You sniff as your own tears make an appearance. “You’ll graduate. Get in that van and leave Hawkins, and make a name for yourself. You’ll play your music, touch so many with those guitar skills-” you let out a soft laugh, “and you’ll make it. You’ll get out of this stupid town and make it Eddie Munson.”

His gaze softened as he looked between your eyes, taking in the determation and honesty in them. His hand coming up to cup your cheek, wiping the tear that was rolling down your cheek.

“Okay.” He whispers, admiring the way you leaned into his hand. “But you’re missing one thing.”

You frown as you looked at him questionly. He continues, “You’re going to be there. When I graduate, and in that van when we leave Hawkins. You’re going to be by my side when I play in front of a few drunks in random bars. You’re going to eat shitty pizza with me in whatever cheap apartment we could afford.”

“Only if it’s not pineapple pizza.” You joke which Eddie gasps and pretends to hold his heart in mock offense.

“Maybe I should reconsider what I just said.” He huffs as he lays on his back, his hands not moving from your cheek. “How dare I spend a day with someone with no taste. What, you want to eat only cheese pizza ? Disgusting. Unacceptable. Cant have that in my household.”

Your hand came up to grab onto the one on your cheek. A huge smile spreading across your face as you listen to him. He gazes at you.

“We’re both getting out of Hawkins, alright?” He whispers, hoping that you wanted the same thing. Relief spread though his chest with warmth when you nodded.

“86 is our year baby.”

The demobats had fallen onto the ground in a split second, Eddie barely putting any thought in the sudden drop of the monsters. His only thought was you. Your body too still when he finally reached you, dropping to his knees as his hands grab onto you.

“Oh god, baby. Shit, y/n?” He inhaled at the sight of the wounds that scattered along your body, blood coating his fingers from where he was holding you. He couldn’t even figure which ones were worse but looking at your face, your own blood staining your cheeks and around your mouth. Eyes barely opened as pained pants pushed past your lips.

“Eddie..” you whisper, so broken that Eddie could feel the panic rise in his own throat.

“You're okay. You’re okay, we’re going to get you out of here okay?” He reassures, trying to pull you more onto his lap but your sharped cry had him pausing. “S-shit, i’m, im sorry y/n”

You slightly shook your head and grabbed onto one of his arms as you gritted your teeth in pain. “I cant move Eddie, it hurts..can I just lay for a bit..please”

A sob rips out of him as he nods, bending down to move your hair out of your face. “Okay baby.” Your breathing became more steady as he held you. Tears mixing with the blood on the side of your face as you try to smile at him,

“I gave them hell right Eddie?” You struggle, coughing up more blood at your efforts. Eddie held onto you tighter, body beginning to shake as the realization was dawning him the more seconds went by. Some bats that seemed to have suffered from your makeshift weapon laid a few feet away from you.

“Yes. Yes you did,” he chokes. He didn’t know how he was speaking with the way his whole head was swarming with emotions. Your proud smile kept him leveled for a little longer. You were still trying your hardest to comfort him, despite your body twitching at the pain that radiates from where chunks of your skin was bitten off.

“Its your year Eddie,” you rasp, “promise me, you’ll leave Hawkins, okay?” Your words were beginning to slur, “you..you’ll leave and make it big yeah? Bars..eat pizza and..and make it.”

More whimpers and cries from Eddie cut through your rambling as he shook his head violently, “no, no no! We are leaving Hawkins, y/n. Not-not just me okay? We are, I promise. You promised and you can’t break that!” He yells but you only shake you head.

“Promise me , please..” he falters but the desperation in your voice has him nodding without any thought. Your eyes soften in relief as more pain coughs abuse your throat. Eddie was mumbling incoherently now, small “you’re okay”s trembling out of him as he cups your cheek. Your eyes watching him with a knowing hint of sadness.

“I love you Eddie..” your voice was so small, his name barely a breathe by the end of the statement. He didn’t have time to fully register it before you looked off to the side, breathing coming to a slow stop and eyes glazing over. One last tear kissing your cheeks.

It was like he was drenched in cold water. His eyes scanning your face trying to process the change, your still expression finally breaking him.

“no , please gOD NO” he shook your shoulders, stained fingers gripping your chin to turn towards him. Praying for your eyes to look at him but they stayed distant, staring off into the sky. Any life, all the warmth that he looked toward to seeing every day ever since he met you, drained into a cold expression.

“Don’t do this to me, don’t do this” he sobs, pushing your face into his chest as he hugs your body. No longer being able to look at the expression unless he wanted his sanity to fully snap. Although with the way he screamed and cried, he wondered if it already did. “Don’t leave me y/n, i cant. I can’t do this with out you!”

He didn’t know how long he sat there, crying out to the sky when a pair of hands latched onto his shoulders. Steve and Nancy attempting to pull him away from your body while Robin watched in horror, hand over her mouth as she noticed your battered body.

“Eddie..” Nancy called, ignoring his hands trying to push her off. “Eddie we have to go.”

“No! I’m not fucking leaving them here.” He seethes, trying to reach for your body again but was pulled by his jacket by Steve. Who kept his composure when Eddie reached back to hit him, “are you fucking crazy? We can’t leave!”

“We don't have time, i’m sorry but we need to go. Now!”

They ignored his screaming of your name as they pulled him away. Eddie didn't care if he looked insane with the way he kicking and screaming at them. He just wanted to feel you against his arms again, in his hands. Even if the warmth was turning ice cold when they had found you two.

You didn't deserve to lay there with the monsters that took you away from him. But he had no choice when their gripped tightened on him and they forced him through the portal into Hawkins, away from you.

—

May , 1986.

Hawkins was slowly piecing itself back together. The government had taken over the Hawkin’s police job in calming down the scared population. They build a fake story that cleared Eddie of the murder charges and explained the many disappearances, including yours, that occurred during the week of murders that plagued over the town.

Eddie and his uncle were given a new trailer, their old one destroyed and covered by the government.

The small group of outcasts that consisted of teenagers and adults knew the truth. Will had reassured everyone that he didn’t feel any connection to the upside down anymore, concluding that Vecna was truly defeated.

After all the horrors they went through, years of terror that begun in 1983, it finally ended. 3 years of monsters and other worlds that tried to dig it’s in claws in Hawkins to destroy it, came to an end in 1986.

They wanted to celebrate, host a huge get together to celebrate the year that ended their nightmares.

Eddie didn’t go.

—

June, 1986.

“We are here not only to celebrate the students who are going to walk this stage, but those who had that chance taken away from them..”

Eddie didn't care that he was graduating or that there were a few boos in the crowd when he walked the stage. He didn’t care that those boos were pushed down by the yells of the teenagers and his uncle that stood from their seats in the crowd. Nancy, Robin, and Jonathan yelling from their own places on the field among his class.

He didn’t care to snatch the diploma, allowing for the principle to place it in his hand. Or even to flip everyone off as he walked back to his seat like a zombie.

He only cared to stare at the empty seat beside him.

—

August. 1986.

Wayne had carefully placed the piece of paper, that was slipped under their door that morning, in front of Eddie. He was sat staring at a bowl of cereal that Wayne convinced him to try to eat.

Eddie glanced at the paper for a second. Only needing to see your full name and details of where your funeral will be held. Your parents had finally accepted that you weren’t coming home. One small look at the date that was on top of the page had Eddie pushing the bowl away and stomp to his room. Wayne’s call of his name a buzz in his ears as he slammed the door shut.

He didn’t make it to your funeral.

—

October 1986.

“They wouldn’t want to see you like this.”

That sentence was what started the screaming match between Eddie and Wayne. Words shooting at each other, the level of their voices rising as each harsh jab grew deeper and deeper. Eddie’s shouting finally overlapping his uncles. He grabbed onto whatever item he could find in his room, throwing them around as he remembered your amused eyes when you had walked around carefully in the same space. Pointing out items and asking about them.

He ripped the posters that you complimented and asked about, he broke a few records that you begged to borrow, he ripped the new magazine he was planning to show you before Chrissy had asked to meet up with him. His room wasn’t recognizable as he fell to the ground on his knees and begin to sob in his hands. Wayne bend down and wrapped his arms around him.

“I know. I know” he cried, letting Wayne to pull him closer. “I-i’m sorry, im fucking sorry. i’m trying. I really am.”

—

December. 1986.

Snow bit at his cheeks, the thick scarf that Steve has gifted him days prior protecting him from the cold wind that blew over Hawkins.

The silence in the cemetery allowing for the small buzzing of the wind to fill his ears while he stared at the headstone. Many flowers and candles were surrounding it. A teddy bear and an envelope catching his attention. Max’s handwriting of your name in red letters.

It's been months and he finally found himself in front of your headstone for the first time. He thought that he was prepared to see the finality of your name carved out in front of him. But it wasn't your name that had him crumbling into the pieces he tried desperately to put together these last few months.

It was the 1986 carved at the end of it that did it for him.

He ignored the harsh cold of his tears as he sat down on the snow covered grass. Shaky fingers pushing down the scarf and tongue licking his chapped lips.

“Hey..” he starts, clearing his throat. “I know you probably want to haunt me for not coming sooner..” a pathetic cry tickles at his throat but he pushes on. “It's been hard. Knowing that once I did come to see you, there was no more hopes that maybe..just maybe this was a whole fucked up nightmare.”

“Every morning, I wanted to wake up and hear that phone ring. Hear you yelling at me for sleeping in late and that I better be at your house in 5 minutes-” he chuckles sadly, “or else you would cut my hair the next time I slept in .”

He remembers those conversations so vividly. He stops talking for a few seconds to stare at the flowers.

“I look for you everytime Wayne makes me go to the store. That old man won't quit. But..but I always have this hope when I go, that i’ll see you in the frozen food aisle. Your arms full of those stupid pizza rolls you ate so much. You would turn to me and smile, and force me to buy them for you.”

“People still look at me like they’ll burn if they walk next to me..ha it’s kind of funny. I can see you sticking your tongue out and pretending to hiss at them.” Hands come up to rub at his eyes. “I stopped paying attention to the shit they say though. Like you would have wanted. Remember? You told me to not listen to their bullshit.”

He sobs. “Why..why did you do it? Why would you sacrifice yourself like that? I was so fucking mad at you. Uncle Wayne had to fix the wall so many times. I just was so angry, I'm sure you heard me cuss your name a few times..” he sniffs, “But I was really mad at myself. Because I would have fucking done the same thing if you went up that rope first. Did-did you know that? Is that why you did it?”

The snowfall was beginning to slow down. The snow was seeping through his jeans from where he was sitting but he paid it no mind. “I feel like I can barely breathe some days. Knowing I wont hear your voice, or feel you playing with my hair. Or, or the fact that we won’t leave Hawkins together. That’s what hurts the most.”

“I know it’s shitty and Mike would go on his stupid rants of me heing selfish, or that scary bald girl would probably explode my head off with her powers if they heard me say this but..I wished we would have let Hawkins burn. We should have let vecna destroy it all if it meant you wouldn’t have died.”

The words felt bitter, horrible coming out of his mouth but they held so much truth in them, he couldn't feel any guilt from them. It plagued his mind every day, how he should have grabbed your arm when they were planning the attack, and just left them to fight on their own. Take you away from it all and skip town, even it meant people were still hunting him and his name wouldn't have been cleared.

“But you wouldn’t have wanted that.” He confesses, “you wanted to fight. You wanted to make sure we helped a group we barely knew, and to make sure to prove my innocent. That’s..that’s just how selfless you were. I would have ran but you didn't. You stayed and look what happened.” He didn’t know if anymore tears could be drained out of him.

“You died when we were suppose to leave. We were suppose to leave Hawkins, and make it." He hands reach out to touch your gravestone for a second. “I didnt know if I could do it alone. I didn't leave Hawkins during the summer like we planned, it didn’t feel right. I’m sorry y/n, for taking so long. But..I think i’m ready now.”

In his van, that was park a hundred feet away from your gravesite, held a few bags with his belongings alongside his guitar and the many records that didn’t break under his grief. A notebook on the passenger seat, scribbles of lyrics that whispered everything he knew about you.

“I’m leaving Hawkins. I talked to a few friends out a few towns over, and they got me a gig.” Eddie smiles through his tears. He could feel the excitement that would have radiated off you if you truly were there. “I’m going to play at a bar and hopefully woo some drunks with my voice. I'm going to keep my promise.”

“I..” he pauses as he stares down at his hands. “I love you. I didn’t say it and I regret it. So much, but I love you. I loved you the moment you entered my life. I loved you when you came to my first campaign and totally killed your character off in the first rolls and reckless decisions. I loved you when you would show me all those books you read, or when you would talk about some soap opera on tv. I loved you when you held me on days I couldn’t be the Eddie every knew or when I held you and you got your snot all over me. I loved you everyday that you were by my side. and I will continue to love you.. I love you so much. Nothing will change that.”

He stands up, weakly brushing off the snow off his clothes as he looks down at your headstone one last time. “I love you y/n. You gave them hell, and I promise i’ll do the same.”

Eddie knows that he wasted most of 1986 but he can't say that he regrets it. Despite knowing it wasn’t what you wanted for him, he felt it was necessary to grieve the way he did. But with a few days away from the New Years, he still had a chance to make it out of Hawkins and make it his year. And the year after that.

He would do it for you.

#eddie munson angst #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie fic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson my baby #stranger things imagine #stranger things #stranger things season 4 #eddie x you #eddie x reader

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imyourbratzdoll · 1 year

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omg I love luke but cant find any fanfics of him! maybe more luke smut+fluff? reader comes to the diner and annoys luke while he's working so he takes her upstairs and asks why she's being a brat then spicy stuff? If you're not up to writing this, or if its out of your comfort zone, no problem, I get it. :) 💕

hello, I agree that there's nothing on luke. he's so underrated, haha, and it sucks. I hope you like this, and I apologise for taking so long.

summary - reader is a little brat and likes to piss luke off while he's at work, he decides to teach her a lesson.

warning - smut.

the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips

“Luke! Lukeeee!” Y/n whines, her cute little nose scrunches as she stares down the burly man. She begins to kick her legs back and forth, swirling the straw around the now-empty milkshake glass. Y/n smirks when she thinks of something. She slowly takes the straw out and spins to where Luke is standing. The man stands tall as he takes someone’s order. The way he looks in his jeans and flannel causes her cunt to throb. “Luke! You better give me attention! Or I’mma throw this!” When he continues to ignore her, Y/n shrugs.

Whispering to herself, “well, no one can say I didn’t warn him.” She holds the straw up, aims before launching it toward him, and watches as it bounces off his head. Y/n throws her hands up, “Yes!” Before her eyes widen, she gives Luke a bashful smile as he turns and glares at her, taking long strides to where she is sitting, grabbing her by the bicep, and dragging her to his room upstairs, not before leaving his cook in charge.

“Hey! Hey! Calm down, buddy! Careful with the merchandise! I’m fragile!” Y/n’s words fall on deaf ears, Luke’s brows furrowed, and the usual scowl on his face is now more prominent. The moment they enter his room, he lets go of her, slamming the door closed before turning and glaring.

“What the hell was that?! Do you not see I’m trying to run a diner?!” Luke stalks forward, his blue eyes pierce through Y/n’s as she proceeds to back away. She feels terrified but incredibly horny, as her knickers are entirely soaked, never having seen Luke get this mad. “Why are you being such a brat today? Do you really need my attention all the time?” The moment she’s backed into a corner, Luke gets close enough that they feel each other’s body heat.

“I–I”, Y/n gulps, her mind too jumbled being so close to him.

“What? Now you know when to shut up?” He growls, grabbing the small woman and lifting her, so her legs wrap around his waist. He takes her over to his bed and throws her onto the soft mattress before climbing on top. “Are you going to be a good girl for me? Or should I punish you for how you were behaving?” Y/n shakes her head as she whines softly, her hands grabbing and gripping whatever and wherever she can, eyes pleading as her plump lips are pouted.

“I wanna be your good girl, only ever want to be your good girl.” She leans forward and places a passionate kiss on his lips, a moan falling from her mouth when she feels him grind his bulge against her core. Their lips move in sync with each other. Luke reaches down and quickly unzips his jeans, pulling out his throbbing member. His thick, veiny hand moves under Y/n’s dress and pulls her knickers to the side, directing the tip of his cock to her slick folds.

A whimper falls from Y/n’s lips when his tip catches her swollen clit. Her small hands grip his back as he directs his cock to her entrance and pushes in. Her mouth falls into a silent moan, and her eyes roll to the back of her head. The feeling of him stretching her out feels like heaven. Luke thrusts deep inside Y/n’s tight cunt, grunting as her walls squeeze him. “You feel good, sweetheart. I don’t think I’ll last long with you squeezing me like that.”

“P–please move!” She moans when Luke begins to pound into her. The sounds of skin slapping fill the room as he leans on his elbows, staring down at his girl before looking between their bodies and grunting. His balls tighten as he watches his thick member thrust in and out of her tight cunt, the base covered in her cream as she pulsates around him, her nails digging into his back as she cums. “Fuck! Luke!”

He falls forward, capturing her in a kiss as he pounds into her until his hips begin to stutter, his balls tighten, burying himself deep into her cunt. Luke lets go, and spurts of his thick white cum fill Y/n up. There’s so much that it begins to flow out of her and onto the sheets. Luke slowly pulls out. He gets up and grabs a warm damp towel, cleaning himself and Y/n up before bringing her into a deep kiss.

“You ever be a brat again, and it won’t be like this next time.” Luke leaves Y/n lying there, fucked out, as he heads back down to the diner.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

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branches-of-time · 2 years

Text

It Ain't The Whiskey

"You climb the rest of the way up, and settle down behind him, wrapping your protective arms around his small frame.

He takes note of your trembling hands, and gently wraps them in his.

He takes a deep breath in, thinking for a moment, and breaks the silence.

'You smell like chocolate… and coffee.'

You huff a little, more of a laugh than a noise of offense, and nuzzle your face down into the soft black hair at the nape of his neck.

'Mhm..' you hum, and pull back, pressing a gentle kiss to the crown of his head. '…and you smell like wine.'”

Pairing: Venti x Reader - Established Relationship, GN!Reader

Word Count: 6,831

Synopsis: One too many people give their two cents on Venti- both his appearance and his music, leading you to learn something about the God-turned-bard that you'd already suspected for a long time.

Contains: Angst, Excessive Drinking, Fear, Graphic (?) Descriptions of Violent Thoughts, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Past Trauma, Implied/Suggested Past Sexual Threats, Reverse Comfort, Slightly Possessive Thoughts, Unwanted Suggestive Commentary

(I don't think the fic is as dark as the CWs make it seem I just want to be thorough!)

A/Ns: This is fic 2 of 16 that I'm doing based on combining prompts from this list! (maybe I'll have them all up by the end of the year lmao)

Day 2 (Wisp) & Day 17 (Drunk)

Title is from the song that inspired this fic- 'It Ain't The Whiskey' by Gary Allan.

Lastly, some context- Reader is part Riftwolf, can manipulate all seven elements but has an affinity for Geo.

Believe it or not, Venti isn't everyone's favorite bard in Mondstadt.

He's popular, sure, but even he can't possibly please everyone's taste in music. Having lived for as long as he has, he isn't usually bothered by the occasional negative comment made about his performances. But you've watched some people be downright mean to him about it and he still won't retaliate. He always responds in the same friendly tone, no matter how harsh some people's words are. Like maybe if he's nice enough, it'll rub off on them too.. or something. You're not really sure what his reasons are for the way he behaves sometimes.

You love him regardless of his tendency to be a bit of a pushover. Besides, you can and have been aggressive enough to balance out his gentle nature on many occasions. Not to him, mind you. You're not sure if you could be aggressive towards him if you had to. Towards everyone else though.. your tolerance for bullshit is low. You've finally found some peace, and you're going to protect it.

It's almost funny, how different the two of you are. He's too nice, you're too mean. He's passive, you're aggressive. He's light, you're heavy. He's bright, you're dark. He's warm, you're cold. He's loud, you're quiet. He plays with the wind, you command the earth. He fights from a distance, you run straight into the fray. He takes his hits and you put up a shield.

He was kicked out of heaven... and you crawled out of hell.

He's taught you many things since the two of you met. One of those lessons being- some things don't get easier to handle with the passage of time. If you don't treat them, if you don't nurse the wound... some things actually just get worse.

You're working the bar alongside Charles at Angel's Share tonight.

You didn't expect your appearance there during Bartender's Academy Week to turn into such a popular event, but even after all this time, wherever you go in Teyvat, a crowd seems to follow. So, after it was over, and when Diluc realized that he wasn't going to be able to escape the never-ending questions from patrons about when you were going to return, he offered you a part-time position. Well, really, it was more of a- "I know you're busy but could you please stop by the tavern and work a shift whenever you're in the area so they'll stop pestering me about it" -type of offer, if you were to quote Master Diluc verbatim.

So, your appearances slowly became more and more frequent as you began to fall in love with the job. You weren't really in dire need of the mora, you just genuinely loved being there. After many, many years of traversing worlds, fighting Gods and monsters alike, settling down for a while and spending time in Mondstadt was a very welcome change of pace. Mixing and serving drinks, chatting with your favorite people, and- of course- watching Venti in his element.

Standing in your spot behind the bar, your left hip is propped against it, leaning back with your shoulders against the wall in the far right corner of the room. You close your eyes for a moment, breathing in deep and listening to the sound of your partner's voice filling the tavern. Looking down, you stir and sip on a hot, fresh Moonlit Alley that you’ve just made for yourself, cradled in your always-cold hands. Your third of the evening, actually. Another perk of working here, besides admiring Venti in your free time, is making your own drinks. Honestly, with the fact that both you and Venti drink here for free, and that Diluc’s paying you, you’re not sure how he isn’t losing out on mora here. You’ll file that question away for another day, you suppose.

Charles has stepped out the back door for a break, leaving you to man the bar for a little while. Fine by you, considering that business has slowed down considerably for the day anyways. The evening has slipped into night, and the usual rush of customers has settled down to just the regulars that tend to stick around until closing.

Venti, in his usual high spirits, has haphazardly kicked his shoes off and perched himself atop a table in the center of the room. Sitting with his legs crossed and lyre in his arms, he’s currently performing one of the songs he plays most often. You know it by heart at this point, with how much you hear him strumming the tune, but you could never get tired of hearing him sing.

The same thing cannot, apparently, be said by one particularly inebriated individual sitting at the far end of the bar you’re leaning against. He’s been unpleasant all evening, grumbling to himself about one thing or other underneath his breath. You been trying to be nice and not bother him, hoping he’ll drink his fill and stumble on home sooner than later, but things never go as smoothly as you hope when alcohol is involved.

Without warning, he slams his fist down on the bar, the impact and the noise causing you to flinch. The sudden movement sloshes your drink all down the front of your shirt, and you quietly curse. The music coming from the other side of the tavern immediately ceases, causing you to look up and momentarily lock eyes with Venti. You see something alert and intense flash in his eyes and the next second it’s gone- replaced with his usual half-lidded, relaxed, ten-glasses-and-seven-shots-in expression. He saw the way the man made you flinch.

Before you can register what could have possibly set the man off, or question Venti’s momentary break in character, the man is stomping his way over to the group of people gathered around the bard.

Well, stomping may be putting it generously. While he is of a pretty large stature, and his loud, drunken movements are a bit intimidating, he’s more-so stumbling than he is stomping. Which is intimidating in it's own right considering he looks like he could and would crush any unfortunate soul he happened to land on if he fell. He gets a little too close to Venti for your liking and you don’t understand why your body won’t move. You want to go over there. You want to put yourself between Venti and this threat. You want to knock him on his ass and drag him out the door after the way he’s been acting all night.

Instead of doing any of those things, your feet stay glued to the floor and your back stays pressed against the wall behind the bar. You can’t believe yourself. You’ve fought literal Gods and you can’t make yourself face one angry, drunk man. Maybe you really have gotten soft, spending so much time in a place as safe and calm as the City of Freedom.

You suddenly remember how Barbatos said he'd help you learn about peace and composure. How to cope with your innate urge to fight. You're starting to think that maybe you've learned too much, because now your body can't decide what to do with itself.

With Venti’s intimate connection to the wind, he can easily hear how rapid your breathing has become, even from the other side of the tavern. He can tell that you’re fighting with yourself over what to do here. Wanting to defend him, and wanting to hide. Not knowing which side of yourself to obey.

Venti knows you. He knows what you'd do to the man if you got your hands on him. When you look up again to watch the scene unfolding, he catches your eyes and whispers something that somehow, only you can hear.

“Stay where you are, love.

You know I can handle this.

It’s okay. I swear.”

Of course, leave it to Venti to speak so poetically while you’re having an internal crisis.

His words do distract you enough to calm you down a bit, though. You try to focus on your breathing as Venti shifts his attention to the man who has braced himself against a table, thankfully not trying to get any closer to Venti. Apparently he just wants someone to yell at, given what comes out of his mouth next.

“Do you even KNOW any other songs?!”

Venti cocks his head to the side a little bit, doing a great job of looking genuinely confused at the man’s words. He keeps any hint of offense out of his voice when he responds, friendly and upbeat as ever.

“Uhm.. pardon me, Sir? I know many songs! If there’s something else you’d like to hear, I’d be happy to play it!”

How he can be so kind in the face of cruelty will never cease to astonish you.

Images of him on the ground in front of the cathedral flash in your mind. The way he refused to fight back against Signora. You remember ice, and hands forcing you down to the concrete. You remember being weak. You remember burning rage. You wanted to claw your way inside her chest and tear her heart out for having the audacity to lay hands upon your God.

You wish he’d quit letting people take their anger out on him, but... maybe he knows something you don’t. Maybe he feels responsible to take these people's rage. Maybe.. maybe he’s just too goddamn passive. You quickly dismiss the upsetting images and thoughts, shaking your head so hard it makes you dizzy for a moment. You do not have time to be caught up in the past right now.

You tune back in to the man’s slurring words.

“Oh, don’t give me that act, bard. Sitting here all pretty in that little outfit... trying to.. tryna’ be all cute and polite 'n ssshit.”

You bristle upon hearing the man call Venti pretty like that.

You know what he's implying and it makes you want to wrap your hands around his throat. Dig your razor sharp nails in deep. You'd watch as his skin beneath your hands begins to dissolve in response to your Corrosion. Watch his blood seep out between your fingers. You want to make him beg for your mercy. Make him repent for uttering such words in the face of a God.

You want to.

You need to move.

Why won't your fucking feet move.

As you silently fight yourself, the man keeps speaking.

“You’re no better than the rest of us drunkards here and you know it. Comin’ in here every night and slammin’ drinks back, pulling out that fuckin' harp 'n playin’ the same. damn. songs. every night."

His fist slams down on the table over and over as he speaks, emphasizing his words.

You flinch every time.

Why can't you breathe?

He sweeps his arm out across the table as he stands up, knocking a bottle and two mugs off in the process. You hear the glass bottle shatter, and watch the spilled alcohol spread out across the floorboards as if in slow motion.

"I’m sick of hearin’ it!”

The room quickly erupts into a cacophony of drunken arguing. The well-meaning patrons jumping to Venti’s defense would have been heartwarming if it weren’t for the chaos being created, the burning hot coffee soaking your shirt, and the indecipherable look on Venti’s face. He’s still sitting there, an almost hurt look in his eyes, gripping his lyre tight as he watches everyone argue around him. He doesn’t look scared as much as he looks... disappointed. Concerned. Solemn.

Sober.

Your eyes break away from Venti when Charles comes into your field of view, and you barely register him asking if you’re okay. You nod on instinct, dismissing the mess on your shirt and the counter, far too focused on the ever-rising voices arguing in the background. He turns his attention to the man that is continuing to cause a scene, and quickly makes his way over to diffuse the situation.

“Excuse me.. Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to leave..”

As Charles uses his years of experience dealing with drunk, upset people to bring the arguing to a close and ushers the men out of the tavern, you just can’t stop watching Venti. He’s acting so.. different. The way he instantly went from loud, drunk, almost tripping over himself climbing up onto the table earlier, to now, looking as sober and solemn as ever.. it’s odd.

He takes a deep breath and dismisses his lyre back into the void. Your eyes follow him as he gingerly slides down off the table, quickly slips his shoes on without any trouble or sign of losing his balance, and quietly makes his way up the stairs to the second floor of the tavern.

Like he was never even drunk in the first place.

Like he was acting.

As the last of the customers leave their apologies and payments at the bar and make their way out of the tavern, you finally pull yourself out of your thoughts and back into the present. Your breathing is still shallow and fast, but your feet will move again, your body finally obeying the commands you’re giving it. You curse yourself over and over for freezing up the way you did.

Grabbing a towel, you start wiping up the mess on the counter. Your racing thoughts wander to places you don’t want them to go.

If that man had wanted to.. he could have…

He was close enough to Venti to…

Would he even have defended himself if that man had…

You weren’t there to protect him.

Charles comes back in as you’re attempting to soak up the worst of the drink you spilled out of your shirt.

“I’m sorry. Should’ve known the moment I went out on break somebody was gonna cause a scene.”

He watches as you aggressively scrub at the mess, honestly just making it worse.

He cocks his head at you.

“You sure you’re okay?”

You realize your efforts to remove the stain are pointless. You breathe a heavy sigh and turn your attention to Charles.

“Yeah… yeah man, I’m alright. I’ve faced far, far more intimidating things than some big drunk guy yelling a bunch of nonsense. You know me. I’m good... he just caught me off guard.”

Why do you feel like you’re lying?

You’re fine.. right?

You wished your voice sounded more sure of your words, but you can’t really help it at this point. You just want to go find Venti, but you continue trying to explain yourself. Charles is already more aware of your.. issues than you realize but he listens nonetheless.

“The atmosphere here is usually so calm at night, and I was just watching Venti like usual and.. I don’t know. That guy’s rage just came out of nowhere and made me jump. I’m fine. Honestly.”

There’s something knowing and empathetic in Charles’ eyes.

“Alright, well.. if you say you’re okay, I believe you. But still, Venti seems to have vanished, you've clearly had a long day, and I’m sure you want to go home and change clothes. Why don’t you let me clean up here and you can go ahead and head out?”

Wasting no time, he's already started picking up the pieces of the broken bottle on the floor.

As tempting as the offer sounds, you feel bad just walking out of here like this. The mess isn’t that bad but still…

“I- I can’t make you do that, it’s not even your mess and it won’t take that long to clean up.. I mean-"

You stop speaking when he turns around and gives you a pointed look, a kind smile on his face.

“I’ve cleaned up this tavern by myself more times than I can count. If I really didn’t like it, I wouldn’t work here. Seriously, don’t worry about it. I’m happy to wrap things up here.”

You sigh, making a mental note to pay him back for this favor, and you gratefully accept his offer.

“Okay.. okay, yeah.. thank you, Charles. I really appreciate it.”

You quickly make your way over to the stairs, following the fading trail of Anemo feathers that only you can see.

“Hey, don’t mention it. Just go find that boyfriend of yours before he disappears into thin air again.”

Charles laughs a little, a lighthearted sound, as he says that. You process what he said about halfway up the stairs and you whip your head around to look at him. You almost speak up to ask how he knew you were following Venti's trail but he’s already made his way into the back room to gather cleaning supplies. You shake your head, deciding to let it go because right now… with the way he worded that… you are too tired to try and figure out exactly how much he really does know about Venti.

Besides, bartenders are good at keeping secrets.

Venti isn’t on the second floor. Your elemental sight tells you that he didn’t sneak his way up to the storage room on the third floor either. Following the little Anemo feathers that Venti leaves in his wake, you instead are lead out to the balcony. Stepping outside, you immediately take in a breath of fresh, cool night air. As much as you love spending time inside the tavern, the first deep breath you take after exiting the establishment is always a welcome relief.

It would be even more relieving if Venti were out here, but of course, he’s never been that easy to find.

The trail of Anemo feathers has ended in a sizable group of them scattered across the edge of the balcony. Almost like he summoned the winds to take him up higher…

Oh.

Of course.

He’s on the roof.

As you make your way up to the top of Angel’s Share, you hear a familiar sound. It’s not a sound you’d ever heard before coming to Teyvat. After all, nowhere else you’ve been has had creatures such as these.

Peeking your head up over the edge of the roof, you see exactly what you thought you would. He's sat down, straddling one of the higher ridges atop the tavern. Several little wind wisps are hovering around him, chirping and speaking to Venti in a language you’ve yet to understand. They’re flocking to him like he’s their mother or something.

Hm.

You quickly file that question away for another day, too.

You haul yourself up onto the roof, as gracefully as you can after the night you’ve just had, trying not to disturb any of them.

Venti’s head tilts, looking down at you. He looks so tired… and there’s a quiet sadness in his eyes. It’s times like this that he looks a lot less like Venti, and a lot more like Barbatos to you. To the unfamiliar eye there probably isn’t much of a difference, but you know him better than that.

It’s something in his face. Something in his eyes. In the way he carries himself, and the way he speaks. It’s subtle, but it’s there. A knowing look that can only come from centuries of experience. A sort of… quiet acceptance.

He is fascinating to you, but you didn’t come up here just to stare at him from afar.

Nodding towards the wisps flitting about all around him, you softly speak.

“Do you think they’ll flee if I get any closer to you?”

He smiles a little bit at your question, his eyes soften, and he shakes his head slowly.

“They’re not afraid of you. I’ve told them who you are. You're welcome to come closer if you’d like.”

He says that like he doesn’t already know how badly you want to wrap him up in a hug and apologize for everything that happened this evening. You know it’s not completely your fault but you still feel so guilty, like you could have done more. Like you should have done more. Like you failed him when your body betrayed you and chose to freeze instead of fight.

You climb the rest of the way up, and settle down behind him, wrapping your protective arms around his small frame.

He takes note of your trembling hands, and gently wraps them in his.

He takes a deep breath in, thinking for a moment, and breaks the silence.

“You smell like chocolate… and coffee.”

You huff a little, more of a laugh than a noise of offense, and nuzzle your face down into the soft black hair at the nape of his neck.

“Mhm..” you hum, and pull back, pressing a gentle kiss to the crown of his head. “…and you smell like wine.”

You look down and watch as his hat, discarded on the roof beside him, begins to float a little bit. Before you can even be properly confused, one of the wisps slips out from underneath it, and chirps in success as it ascends to float around with the others.

“Did you trap that thing underneath your hat?”

That gets a proper laugh out of him, albeit a small one, and he shakes his head again.

“No, of course not. I'll have you know that it crawled under there of its own volition.”

He gently reaches out and slowly picks his hat up, revealing two more wisps cuddled up together like they were camping and his hat was the tent. They chirp loudly in protest of having their cover blown. Venti smiles.

“They like to hide in there sometimes, what can I say?”

You watch as he gently places the hat back down over them, and reaches back to his lap to take your hands in his again.

They’re shaking a bit less now.

You think for a moment, and speak again.

“They’re really cute, you know. How they’re so playful with you. They really trust you, don’t they?”

He nods, slowly reaching one hand out and holding it open in the air. One wisp flies over and gently lowers itself into his palm, curling up into a ball and resting there.

“We’re like family, you know. They know that I’ll protect them.”

Watching him like this, perfectly still, calm, steady and gentle, it’s really hard to believe that less than an hour ago he was just drunk off his ass, throwing back shots and climbing on furniture to sing whatever song was requested of him next.

Like, really hard to believe.

You figure now is as good of a time as ever to ask the question that you've been sitting on for quite a long time now.

“You’re completely sober, aren’t you, Venti?”

To his credit, he doesn't even seem caught off guard by the sudden question. He knows that you've suspected this for a while, and was almost waiting to see how long it would take you to figure him out.

He nods, looking straight ahead, out over the empty streets of the city. From your position behind him, you lean to the left, around his side to try and see his expression better as he answers you.

“I always have been, love.”

You breathe a sigh of relief that you didn't even notice you had been holding, and it doesn't go unnoticed by him.

"You watch me so closely... and you're around me so often, I'm almost surprised it took you this long to ask me that, Windblume."

He doesn't sound disappointed, or upset that you've figured out his secret. He almost sounds relieved.

"Well, I think I've known it for quite a while, actually, I just.. wasn't sure, and didn't want to ask until I was. I always thought that with you being.." you lower your voice even further before you speak your next words, "an Archon..."

As you pause to choose your words carefully, you slide your right hand up his arm, from his wrist to his elbow and over his bicep, stopping to rest on his right shoulder. Absentmindedly, you start to massage your thumb into the tense muscles there. He's always holding more tension than he seems to be.

"...I thought that you might just have a really high tolerance, and that it wore off really quickly afterwards, too. But then sometimes, while I watch you perform, or just joke around with people in the tavern, you seem to almost.. break character sometimes."

He hums and nods a little in response to your words, not interrupting but wanting you to know that he's listening.

"Like.. like you were acting, for lack of a better way to put it. You could snap out of it and right back in so quickly that I started to wonder if you were ever actually drunk in the first place. Just like tonight, when you suddenly broke character to tell me that everything was okay. Then, the way you watched the scene unfold and quickly slipped out of the room... it just didn't add up how you could switch so quickly if you were truly intoxicated."

Venti leans back into you and lets your words hang in the air for a moment, processing them.

"You're too damn observant, you know that?"

You're relieved when you can clearly hear the smile in his voice.

"You're right though, about all of it. Unfortunately, there isn’t enough wine in the world to get me drunk. Archons aren't capable of getting drunk on something as weak as alcohol. No matter how strong the brew, it just doesn't affect us like that. It's like trying to get drunk off of apple juice. It tastes really nice, sure, and too much of it can make you feel sick from the sugar, but it won't intoxicate you."

You hum in thought, and another question pops into your mind, though you believe you may already know the answer.

"Then, if you don't mind me asking, why do you drink so much? Or... why do you drink it at all?"

Due to the way he's leaning back into you, the laughter that bubbles up out of him in reaction to your question jostles you both.

"How do I explain it... Well, you know how you love the taste, and the experience of making and drinking coffee?"

"Yeah..?"

"Still, you don't like what the caffeine does to you, so you drink decaf instead."

Of course, he's found another parallel between the two of you.

"It's like that! I truly do love the taste of wine, and all sorts of spirits for that matter. I also love the atmosphere of the tavern. I get to be among my people, sing and drink to my hearts content, and.. yes, I do get to act like... like someone I'm not, I suppose."

He sighs a little bit, almost feeling guilty about the admission.

"I get to forget that I'm this powerful celestial being and for a while... I can just be Venti. He's a fun character to play, I guess. Not that the things I do and say when I'm 'drunk' aren't genuine, mind you."

He reaches up and does little air quotes around the word drunk, and you smile.

"I'm always me. There's just.. two different sides of me. They mix quite often, and I'm usually somewhere in between Barbatos and Venti at any given time. I'm sure you've gathered that by now."

You nod, and now it's time for you to do some explaining of your own.

"I have, love. I've definitely gathered that. Also, for the record, I love both of you, equally. I fell in love with all of you, not just one side, or one part."

You reach up and carefully tuck a stray piece of hair behind his ear.

"I don't mind it when you're 'drunk', honestly. I obviously wouldn't be with you if I were constantly upset by part of who you are. Honestly, though... you've always kind of been an enigma to me. I never pictured myself with someone like you. Not that there's anything wrong with you, of course not. We're just so.. different. It's something that's always baffled me.. given.. my past."

Venti reaches up and removes your hand from where it's toying with his hair, pulling it forward and you let him take it. You watch as he turns his head to the left in order to place a gentle kiss on the back of your hand.

It's still hard to revisit your past, and explain why you are the way you are. You're grateful for his silent reassurance that you don't have to go over it again. He already knows. The two of you have spent many sleepless nights with you clinging to his cape as you stain his bright white shirt with your black tears.

You already know you're gonna revisit tonight's effect on you at some point in the future. Venti knows that he'll ask you to tell him more about the first man that taught you to be so afraid. Not tonight, though. Tonight he will listen, and nothing more.

"I guess now I know why it never bothered me. Maybe deep down, I've always been able to tell that you're not really intoxicated. Now, are you high on life? Maybe, yeah.."

You both laugh at the expression, but he doesn't deny it.

"I mean, you do have quite the lively spirit when you're doing what you love. But I've never felt unsafe around you. I think my body knew that you weren't going to hurt me, even in the beginning, when my mind wasn't sure."

Venti feels a tightness in his throat upon hearing that you feel safe with him. He pushes the feeling down and speaks through it.

"I'm glad you know that you're safe with me, love. That's all I've ever wanted you to be, and equally importantly- to feel. Safe and sound."

From his own words, the need to protect you suddenly hits him again, and he sits up a little straighter.

He told himself he wouldn't pry tonight, but he has to ask one thing.

He needs to know you're gonna be okay.

"Speaking of, how are you doing? After everything that happened in there, I mean. I could tell that that man wasn't actually going to harm me, you know he couldn't even if he tried, but I know it still scared you. I'm truly sorry for that."

After everything, he's still putting your needs above his own.

You won't stand for that. You're not gonna make this about you.

Not tonight.

"Sorry? No, no- Venti- I should be the one saying that. He was posing a threat to you and I just... I just fucking froze. I should have stepped in to protect you."

There's frustration in your voice that you fail to hide, and you pray that he knows that you're upset with yourself, not him.

Venti leans away from you at that, and for a moment you think you've offended him. Your damaged mind is always thinking you've done something wrong. You watch as he carefully turns himself around to face you, disturbing the many wisps that had settled down to rest on his idle form in the process.

He looks you square in the eyes and counters your protest with a question.

"You do know that I'm with you because I love you, and not just to use you as my personal guard dog, right?"

You nod your head, and smile at his phrasing. Somebody once mentioned, upon seeing the two of you out in public together, that that's kind-of what you look like. Presumably due to the way you tend to watch over him so closely, ready to stand between him and the world, if need be. You're protective of him, and you make no effort to hide it.

"You didn't owe me anything back there, love. I knew you wanted to jump in. I also didn't want to further aggravate the situation. That's why I told you to stay behind the bar. I knew that everything would be fine."

You shake your head.

"Is it though? Are you fine? I mean.. the things he said... you know that's not true, right? None of it was. People love you, and your music, and it's his loss if he can't appreciate the stories you tell in your songs."

His eyes soften, and he sighs a little bit before he responds to you.

“Listen to me, dear. It is not your fault that he apparently had a bad day and decided to take it out on me. Everyone has their own taste, and it doesn't make him wrong for disliking my music. Was it out of line for him to berate me like that, in front of God and everybody?"

You can't help but laugh at him using the phrase that he picked up from you after hearing you say it so often. Of course, he's still trying to keep the mood light. He wants to see you smile, and you do, as he continues.

"Yeah... probably. It's okay, though. I can take it. I won't shatter just because someone got a little too drunk and decided to tell me their honest opinion.”

You can't help but notice that he's only mentioning what the man said about his music, and nothing about what he called him. Nothing about what he implied. You're torn between not pressing the issue and doubling down. If he's taught you anything, though, it's the importance of delicacy.

Gentleness.

You reach out and take his hands in yours once again. Your hands are steady now, allowing you to notice the slight tremble of his own as you thread your fingers together.

"I know.. I know you're strong. I know you can take it. But- but just because you can take it doesn't mean you should have to! You are so, so passive and... it's admirable but.. I don't know, Venti. I guess I just don't know how you do it. I'm afraid that you're secretly carrying all of these negative feelings and that one day they're gonna be too much for you to bear. I just.."

Your grip on his hands tightens.

"I don't want you to break on me, love."

Venti looks a little surprised at your words.

He bows his head and looks down for a long moment, taking a few slow, deep breaths. Both of you sit in the silence for a little while.

The wisps gather around the two of you again as you both remain still, and they get closer and closer to Venti, landing all over his form. It's almost like they're trying to hug him, you muse to yourself.

You eventually feel something wet land on your hand, and your first thought is that it's starting to rain.

Great, now you're both gonna be sad and wet.

You look up, but feel nothing hit your face. You feel another drop on your hand and you look down to where they're held in Venti's grip. Thanks to the fact that it's dark out, you're able to see that the liquid landing on your hands isn't clear rainwater. It's turquoise, and it's glowing.

He's crying.

For a brief moment you're too stunned to speak. You're not used to seeing him cry, but you find your voice in spite of your shock and speak to him softly.

"Venti? I-I didn't mean to make you cry, love.. I just.."

Your words trail off as the metaphorical dam breaks and his shoulders begin to shake from the force of his silent sobs.

"Oh, honey... sweetheart, come here."

You pull him further towards you, guiding him to wrap his arms around your waist and letting his head rest on your shoulder. He's so quiet when he cries, you'd never know it from just listening to him. His shaking body and glowing tears are a bit of a giveaway, though.

You rub circles over his back and he slowly but surely calms back down. He makes no move to pull away and neither do you, opting to stay together just as you are as he speaks again.

"I- I don't know what got into me.. I'm sorry."

"Venti, you do not ever need to apologize for crying, or for being upset."

"I just... I'm still not used to anyone caring so much about my wellbeing. It caught me off guard. I mean.. yeah, I get my feelings hurt sometimes. I'm not immune to the things people have said to me just because they think I'm some small, weak bard that can't fight back. Not to mention the things that have been said to me because they know I'm some small, weak God that won't fight back."

He pulls in a shaky breath and you pull him a little closer as you continue listening to him.

"I'm used to it.. I guess. I'd rather just let people speak their peace and carry on, thinking they got the upper hand, than cause a scene by fighting back. I'm tired of fighting, and over time I've learned it's often not even worth it. It's no fun having to act like things don't bother me, but over time I got pretty good at it."

Your heart breaks at the way he's learned to handle things.

You gently pull back from the embrace, wanting to see him properly. His cheeks are flushed from crying, and his eyes look so tired.

"Those words can still hurt you, Venti. Over time, they build up and if you don't process them somehow, they'll eat you alive."

He looks down as one of the wisps bumps into his arm. It looks up at him and, having gotten his attention, makes a series of noises that you can't decipher. From his response, it seems the wisp was echoing your sentiment.

"I know."

He looks away from the wisp and back up to you.

"I do. I guess my coping mechanisms aren't as fool-proof as they once were. I usually keep a good handle on it. I guess it's just gotten harder to do over time. Sometimes, I do wonder if I'm not getting weaker, instead of stronger, as time goes on."

He tilts his head back, looking up at the stars that decorate the night sky. The midnight breeze feels nice on his warm, flushed face.

"Sometimes I just don't know."

You reach forward and slip your finger underneath the bow that holds his cape together. The weight of the cape tends to pull the bow back, and it ends up pulling on the base of his neck. It looks uncomfortable, so you gently ease it forward, and reach out to pull the cape further forward across his shoulders, trying to alleviate the pressure.

You speak to him as you fiddle with his clothes.

"Sometimes, I think that all a person needs is to speak, openly and honestly, about the things that are weighing them down. Like we're doing here, right now. There's power in language. I know you know that. I believe that part of that power is in the relief we feel when we share our burdens with someone who cares about us."

Shifting his attention away from the heavens and back down to you, he feels warmth bloom in his chest at the sight of your soft, kind expression. He watches the way your lips move as you speak.

"I care about you, Venti. An awful lot... and I am always, always willing to listen to you. No matter what it is, good or bad, a song or a story, I want to hear it."

The way his focus flickers back and forth between your eyes and your lips is not lost on you. You lean a bit closer to him, and reach out to cup his cheek, still warm from crying.

You lower your voice to a whisper.

"Please, promise me you won't keep carrying all of these feelings by yourself. Someone as light as you should never be weighed down by the negativity of others, nor by the hate in the world."

He breathes in deep, and nods once.

"I'll try... to let you help more. To let you in. I promise you."

Your hands stop toying with the soft ends of his braids, and one moves to gently cradle the back of his neck. He leans into you on instinct.

His eyes fall closed as you pull him towards you, closing the remaining gap between the two of you.

You lean up and place a soft kiss on his forehead.

"I won't let your burdens drag you under, Barbatos."

You move down and place another, feather light, on the tip of his nose. He smiles.

"I will not let them."

Your lips finally meet his, and you feel him fully relax in your hold.

When you break the kiss, neither of you pull back, instead leaning your foreheads against one another and breathing softly.

Chocolate and wine pair quite well together, you think.

#venti #venti x reader #genshin #genshin impact #ventober #lunasmr #venti x you #venti genshin impact #venti genshin x reader #genshin venti #genshin fic #venti fanfic #venti angst #venti comfort #genshin drabbles #genshin scenarios #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin x reader #genshin x you #*banging pots and pans whilst shouting into the void* COME GET YOUR VENTI ANGST COME GET YOUR VENTI ANGST #i'm so sorry i swear i'll write something more lighthearted one of these days. but i'm full of the rage bloodlust hatred wrath #i put so much effort into this silly little fic i sure hope someone likes it and i didn't make it so niche it's unenjoyable. that's my fear #Venti & Reader's dynamic in my fics is like the concept of Scary Dog Privilege. or like the Person On Leash ship dynamic. u know the one.#hoo boy. apologies for the upsetting argument (fight?) scene in the tavern (and all the angst in general) I just...#I was listening to Track You Down by Matthew Mayfield on loop while writing it. and somethin' just came over me. that song makes me Feral.#'fear wraps it's claws around his neck and squeezes tight' and all that.. anyways go listen to it it's a good song #don't ask me why reader works at Angel's Share if they're scared of drunk people i can't explain it. i'm self-inserting don't look at me #every bartender in Mond. hates alcohol. even Charles isn't interested in it he's like idk man i just work here. now what can i get you #reader is just doing their part to keep the tradition alive and well

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