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cherryrainn · 3 months

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DINNER .

; pairing ; alastor & human! reader

; note ; hihi! this is a request i got on wattpad! (yes i changed my format again)

; warnings ; chasing, captivity, predatory behavior, he ate you

the moon hung low in the night sky, casting an eerie glow through the twisted branches of the abandoned forest. the air was thick with a palpable sense of foreboding as you venture deeper into the darkness, your footsteps echoing in the silence that surrounded you. the only sound that cut through the stillness was the rustle of leaves under your feet as if the very earth beneath you shivered with a sense of unease.

your senses heightened with each step, the crunch of leaves beneath your shoes making you acutely aware of the isolation that enveloped you. it was said that this forest was cursed, abandoned by both the living and the dead. yet, curiosity drove you forward, a reckless desire to explore the unknown.

as you pushed deeper into the heart of the forsaken woods, an unsettling sensation crept up your spine. you felt eyes upon you, unseen and malevolent. a chill ran down your spine, and the shadows seemed to dance with a life of their own. you quickened your pace, aware that you were no longer alone.

a low growl reverberated through the air, causing you to freeze in your tracks. the atmosphere thickened, suffused with a sinister energy that seemed to emanate from the very heart of the forest. before you could react, a figure emerged from the darkness, its form illuminated by the pale moonlight.

a demon, grotesque and menacing, stood before you, his sharp, yellow teeth glinting in a predatory smile. his red eyes bore into yours, the sinister glint betraying the facade of charm he so masterfully wore. the tufts of hair on his head resembled the ears of a deer, and his entire presence exuded an otherworldly aura.

"well, well, well," he purred, his voice dripping with amusement. "what do we have here? a lost lamb wandering into my domain."

you felt a shiver run down your spine as alastor circled you like a predator sizing up its prey. the air crackled with tension as he continued to appraise you, his eyes flickering with a hunger that went beyond the mundane.

"you've stumbled into something you shouldn't have," alastor mused, his tone taking on a dangerous edge. "this forest is my territory, and those who enter uninvited are subject to my whims."

as he spoke, a disturbing realization struck you -a bestial urge, a wendigo-like hunger, flickered in his eyes. his internal struggle played out before you, torn between devouring you and keeping you as his plaything.

a sinister smile played on his lips as he spoke, "now, my dear, the question is, shall i indulge my appetite and feast upon you, or perhaps, keep you for my amusement?"

fear gripped your heart as the words of the demon hung in the air. without waiting for a response, he continued to circle you, reveling in the uncertainty of your fate. in that moment, a surge of adrenaline coursed through your veins, drowning out the fear, and a single thought echoed in your mind – get out of here.

without a second thought, you turned on your heels and sprinted through the twisted trees, the forest becoming a blur around you. the crunch of leaves beneath your frantic footsteps reverberated through the night, and the distant laughter of alastor followed, a haunting symphony to your desperate escape.

"oh, run, my sweet little morsel! run as fast as your fragile legs can carry you!" his voice called out, a mocking lilt underscoring his words.

panic set in as you desperately searched for an escape, but the once-visible path had vanished into a disorienting labyrinth of darkness.

your breaths came in ragged gasps as you stumbled over roots and rocks, the relentless pursuit of alastor's laughter pushing you to the brink. the forest seemed to warp and twist, playing tricks on your senses, and every desperate turn only deepened the sense of entrapment.

just as hope threatened to abandon you entirely, a gnarled branch shot out from the shadows, its twisted form snaking around your ankle. you yelped in pain as you fell to the ground, the cold earth meeting your face. the branch tightened its grip, preventing any further escape.

alastor emerged from the darkness, his eyes alight with sadistic glee. "my, my, it seems our little game has reached its climax," he mused, sauntering toward you with an unhurried pace.

you struggled against the binding branch, panic coursing through your veins. alastor leaned down, his face inches from yours, the twisted smile never leaving his lips.

"oh, my dear, did you really think you could outrun me? how adorable," he sneered, relishing in your desperation.

your chest heaved with each breath as you glared defiantly at the grinning demon. gritting your teeth, you looked up at him, defiance burning in your eyes. "yeah? well... you might be surprised," you retorted, your voice steady despite the fear that coursed through your veins.

alastor chuckled, his amusement growing. "bold words. perhaps there's more fight in you than i anticipated." he circled you, his presence looming like a dark specter.

in that moment, a flicker of hope danced in your chest. maybe, just maybe, you could defy the odds and escape the clutches of this sadistic demon. if you showed him you weren't afraid, perhaps he would release you.

"you see," you continued, keeping eye contact with alastor, "i don't scare easily. you might think you have control, but i won't be just a victim in your stupid game."

alastor's grin widened, the challenge seemingly invigorating him. "oh, how fascinating! a morsel with a spine. i do love a good challenge."

for a brief moment, it seemed as if the tables might turn. alastor hesitated, his gaze narrowing as he considered your words. the hope that had sparked within you was like a fragile flame, flickering in the darkness.

he considered you for a moment, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the handle of his cane. the silence hung in the air, pregnant with uncertainty.

then, with a sudden, guttural laughter, alastor shook his head. "you entertain me, but amusement can only go so far," he declared, his demeanor shifting.

alastor's form began to change. the air crackled with dark energy as he transitioned from his charming, dapper persona to his full demonic form. the tufts of hair on his head extended into formidable antlers, and his eyes transformed into swirling, demonic orbs.

a sinister smile stretched across his face as he loomed over you, the shadows of the forest seeming to bow to his malevolence. the once-playful atmosphere twisted into a palpable sense of dread.

"in the end, my appetite reigns supreme," he declared, his voice now a guttural growl that sent shivers down your spine.

before you could react, alastor's demonic form lunged forward, engulfing you in darkness. the forest bore witness to the macabre spectacle, the moonlight flickering in the twisted branches as your defiant words were silenced by the abyss.

moments later, the moonlit forest stood eerily silent, the shadows slowly retreating as alastor returned to his more refined, dapper self. the antlers retracted, and the demonic aura dissipated, leaving behind the sly, self-assured grin on his face.

with a flick of his wrist, alastor produced a small, pristine napkin from seemingly thin air. his eyes glinted with a semblance of amusement as he delicately dabbed at the corners of his mouth, cleaning away the residue of his meal.

"ah, what a delightful diversion that was!" he mused, his voice back to its smooth, radio-like cadence. the forest, having borne witness to the dark spectacle, seemed to exhale a collective sigh.

with a snap of his fingers, he vanished into the shadows, leaving the moon to cast its cold light upon the desolate landscape.

#ALASTOR #hazbin hotel #hazbin #y/n #reader insert #ask #kinda dark i love it #ask from wattpad #alastor x reader #hazbinhotel #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel x reader

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five-and-dimes · 6 months

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I have no idea where this came from but I’m never going to turn it into a full fic so I’m releasing it into the void.

Dream is some sort of fae creature whose son died, so he sneaks into a mortal village and kidnaps a young boy around the same age his son was.

(Part of his heart hurts because he never took part in the traditional changeling child/fae kidnapping thing because he couldn’t bear to leave his son with some stranger, he loved him too much, and he knows deep down he shouldn’t do this to someone else but he’s desperate for something, anything, to dull the pain of his loss).

When single dad Hob wakes up and finds his son Robyn missing, he’s fully prepared to go scorched earth to find him. When it becomes clear he’s not in the village, he going charging alone into the woods, too impatient to put a party together to help him. (He’s terrified- he’s heard rumors of fae in these parts, but there was no child left behind. What could have taken his little boy?)

After a few days searching, he hears Robyn’s voice up ahead. He’s got a sword at his side, but for now he draws a bow and arrow, moving forward slowly. Eventually he comes to a clearing, peeking forward and preparing to shoot down whatever took his child. But then. He pauses.

Robyn is smiling, and laughing, and has an abundance of flowers adorning his hair. He is plucking some berries from a bush and popping them into his mouth under the guidance of the most beautiful creature Hob’s ever seen. As he listens, he realizes that Robyn is talking about him, telling stories of how his papa taught him to identify the things that are safe to eat in the forest, and how tall he feels when he sits on his father’s shoulders, and how his papa has a terrible singing voice but sings the loudest anyway and so Robyn loves it.

“I think papa will like you lots!” Robyn declares, and the creature smiles sadly.

“I… doubt that… but he sounds lovely.”

Hob is so confused by the whole situation that he doesn’t notice he’s taken a step forward until a branch snaps under his foot. Robyn looks over and immediately bursts into a wide smile, even as the creature lets out a panicked series of chirps and bolts in the other direction.

“Papa!!”

Robyn throws himself into his father’s arms, and Hob drops his weapons to hold him, beyond relieved to have his son safe in his arms, unharmed. He spends a few minutes just peppering his son’s face with kisses and telling him how worried he was before finally looking at the spot where the creature had disappeared into the woods. Robyn follows his gaze, smiling and tugging on Hob’s hand to guide him into the clearing as he calls out.

“It’s okay, Dream! Papa is super nice to everyone, you don’t have to hide!”

Hob’s sees two bright eyes in the shadows before the creature- Dream- hesitantly steps forward. He looks sad and scared and ashamed and Hob is smitten almost immediately.

Robyn explains that when he woke up he had been scared, but Dream had hugged him (almost as good as his papa’s hugs, he claims) and told him he would keep him safe and take care of him. Then Robyn had been sad because he already missed his dad, and when he told Dream about him he had immediately realized the error of what he had done and resolved to return Robyn. It had taken some time because Robyn had insisted he was too big to be carried (it’s one thing if he was sleeping, but he was a big boy he could walk home just fine, really!) so they had traveled together, Dream never feeding him anything that would bind Robyn to him, instead just pointing out food and water for him to gather himself.

Dream is still standing a bit aways from them both as Robyn tells the tale, looking at the little boy with aching fondness.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly to Hob, “I just... miss my son so much,” he smiles weakly at Robyn, “I believe you and Orpheus would have been great friends.”

And oh, Hob gets it all of a sudden. He had been fully prepared to do all sorts of questionable things to get his son back, he can’t imagine what he might be compelled to do if he actually lost him. And Dream was bringing him back, so he finds it very easy to forgive him.

He finds it even easier to invite Dream to finish the journey back with them, and then invite him to stay, and then invite him to build a home in the woods together, and share kisses and a bed and a life.

Robyn is very smug.

He told Dream his dad would like him.

#Dream can have a step-son AND a husband. As a treat.#the sandman #dreamling #my writing #fae au #I guess #I like this idea but I REFUSE to add anything to my wip list

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dreaminginthedeepsouth · 4 months

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Cathedral, Mountain, Moon: Single shots like this require planning. The first step is to realize that such an amazing triple-alignment actually takes place. The second step is to find the best location to photograph it. But it was the third step: being there at exactly the right time—and when the sky was clear—that was the hardest. Five times over six years the photographer tried and found bad weather. Finally, just ten days ago, the weather was perfect, and a photographic dream was realized. Taken in Piemonte, Italy, the cathedral in the foreground is the Basilica of Superga, the mountain in the middle is Monviso, and, well, you know which moon is in the background. Here, even though the setting Moon was captured in a crescent phase, the exposure was long enough for doubly reflected Earthlight, called the da Vinci glow, to illuminate the entire top of the Moon. Image Credit & Copyright: Valerio Minato :: [Thanks Robert Scott Horton]

* * * *

"The moon suddenly stands up in the darkness, And I see that it is impossible to die. Each moment of time is a mountain."

James Wright, from “Today I Was So Happy, So I Made This Poem,” in The Branch Will Not Break: Poems

[alive on all channels]

#Cathedral #mountain #moon #Valerio Minato #Robert Scott Horton #photography #James Wright #poem #alive on all channels

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yandere-daydreams · 11 months

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Title: Saved And Fucked By The Moth Man.

Pairing: Mothman x F. Reader (Cryptozoology).

Word Count: 3.6k.

TW: Death/Gore, Rough Sex, Oral Sex, Inhuman Anatomy, Generalized Monster-Fucking, Car Crashes, Reader's Pretty Questionable In This One, and Blood.

Based On The Results of This Poll.

You thought it could’ve been a bird, at first.

A raven, or a crow – you weren’t entirely sure. Something big and black that flew so quickly, you hadn’t been able to make out anything more specific than a dark blur and the vague impression of feathers before it was gone, vanishing into the shadows of the forest before you could realize that you'd reflexively swerved to avoid it, before you could do anything to stop yourself from crashing into the base of an oak so tall and so opposing, it wouldn’t so much as shake under the force of the collision. By the time you stumbled out of your wrecked car, the windshield shattered and the engine utterly decimated, whatever threw you off-course had been gone, and you’d been left alone on a country backroad in the middle of nowhere - bruised, sore, and miles away from the nearest city. Really, the only way your night could get worse was if—

Thunder cracked somewhere in the distance, quaking through the otherwise silent forest. You glanced up, searching for the sky through the dense canopy of overlapping branches and finding it overcast. It’d rain, pretty soon, and you’d be left lost, injured, and drenched.

Well, at least now, it really couldn’t get any worse.

You fished your phone out of your pocket and pressed your back against the most in-tact side of your car, checking if you had reception for the millionth time. Of course, you didn’t, and of course, your battery was in the single digits – too low to justify using your flashlight and risking leaving yourself alone in the dark with a dead phone and no way to call for help if you did, somehow, manage to make it to the border of civilization.

You considered crawling into what was left of the backseat of your car, turning off your phone, and hoping someone else drove down this godforsaken road in the morning, but before you could let exhaustion dampen your better judgement, you heard something in the woods rustle, the sounds of displaced leaves and cracking twigs standing out against the stillness of the woods. Somewhat hesitantly, you turned towards the disturbance, half-expecting to see wolves or coyote or, as unlikely as it was, the same over-sized bird that’d gotten you into this, but instead, much to your relief, you found a group of three men – hunters, judging by the riffles slung over their backs, the dirt caked into their shoes. None of them were wearing visibility gear, and you couldn't say it seemed like a great idea to go skulking through the forest in the middle of the night, but you were already out of your comfort zone. You couldn’t be sure what people walking around in the woods at night were supposed to look like, and at that point, you didn’t really care.

You grinned, moving to call out to them, but the oldest of the group was already addressing you, already stepping out of the forest and onto the road. “What do you think you’re doing out here, darlin’?”

Your expression faltered, but you kept your spirits up. It was fine. This was fine. You could deal with a little backwoods chauvinism until you got to a mechanic. “Got into an accident,” you said, nodding towards where your car where it bent around the oak’s trunk. “No service, either. I guess I wouldn’t be able to bother one of you kind people to call a tow truck, would I?”

There was a long, silent pause. The two younger men exchanged a glance. Again, the oldest spoke to you. “This is private property, y’know. Not a lot of folks come through this patch of woods.”

“Sorry, I didn’t know. I… I’m just in town for the convention.” One of the younger men slid his rifle off of his shoulder, taking it in both hands. The other followed in-suit. “It’s a beautiful area. If I had to get stranded, I’m glad it was here.”

“So, no relatives nearby? Nobody who’d notice if you didn’t get home in the mornin’?”

You pressed yourself against the dented metal, your smile now strained. “You know what?” You asked, forcing out an airy chuckle. “I think I’ll just walk for it. How far could the next town be, right?”

He held up a hand, signaling to the rest of his group. You heard something click, caught boots scraping against rough pavement, and watched a broad grin form across the older man’s features. “Looks like there’s gonna be a hunt tonight after all, boys.”

Your first reflex was, somewhat counterintuitively, to laugh. The sound was jarring, too loud and too stilted, cutting your lips and catching in your throat like pieces of broken glass.

Your second, triggered when one of the younger men moved to step toward you, was to run for your life.

Without thought, without hesitation, you broke into a dead-sprint. There was a holler behind you, a round of hollow clicks and earth-shaking thuds, and then, they were chasing you.

You couldn’t be sure how far you made it. It felt like you ran for seconds, or days, or years. It felt like you traveled miles, or feet, or just a few steps. Everything looked like the same repetitive blur of trees taller than your eyes could follow and roots that jutted from the earth like pikes. Their footsteps remained constant, never growing closer or farther away, always lingering somewhere just behind you, always just barely breathing down your neck. Fuck this. Fuck your car. Fuck this entire goddamn town and their stupid convention. If you made it out of this alive, you’d spend the rest of your life as far from this state as you could get. Coming here had been a stupid idea to begin with, a spontaneous trip planned at the last minute and based on a half-baked desire to see something that probably didn’t even exist. You just thought you might’ve been able to see—

Your foot caught on a half-buried stone, and you were sent crashing into the earth, your shoulder taking the brunt of the fall. You were left on the ground, cursing under your breath and holding your aching arm as you scrambled to get back on your feet, to keep moving before your would-be murderers caught up with you. You weren’t fast enough, though – you couldn’t be, not when they’d always been on your heels, not when you’d already given them an opportunity to put their quarry out of its misery. You’d barely started to push yourself up when they emerged from the tangle of trees, guns cocked and hunting knives drawn. You shrunk into yourself, threw your arms over your face in a last-ditch effort to protect yourself, despite knowing that a bullet would tear through your skin like paper, despite being able to picture your body lying lifeless on the forest floor, bleeding out in the dirt like a wild animal. The last thing you saw was the oldest man, raising his riffle and aiming towards your chest before you shut your eyes.

You heard a shot, sudden and deafening, but the impact never came.

You felt something whip past you. There was a scream, wordless and torn and cut short with a ragged screech and a wet, visceral sound – like flesh being carved open, like teeth tearing into raw meat. It was all you could do to curl into yourself, sinking into your self-made shelter as the forest descended into the sounds of carnage, only falling silent when there was nothing left to cut down. Even then, it took you long, agonizing seconds to open your eyes, to take in the gore splattered across the grass and dirt, the guns that’d been bent and twisted into shapes they weren’t meant to hold. A disembodied leg laid to your side, the torso it’d been ripped from impaled on a branch nearly twenty feet off of the ground. Clumps of torn muscle and split entrails shined reddish-silver in the limited moonlight, but you could only focus on the gore for so long.

Only a few yards away, a man stood in front of you. Only, it wasn’t a man, not really, not when you looked beyond its – his? hers? theirs? – vaguely humanoid form. Its long legs and lanky arms were coated in a thin layer of grey, shaggy fur that grew shorter and finer over its defined chest. You could make out curved talons extending from its massive hands, a pair of ringed antennae curled back along its scalp, a pair of tattered wings folded against its back. Its head might’ve been the strangest part of its anatomy; low and stooped, too round to resemble anything human and too featureless inspire anything but an uncanny sense that you weren’t supposed to be here. From a distance, the only thing you could really make out was its eyes. They were gigantic, nearly spherical – orbs of pure crimson that seemed to glow in the dim light.

Before you could stop yourself, your attention drifted downward, to the space between its legs. It took you an embarrassingly long moment to recognize what you were looking at – the shaft absent of all veins or definition beyond a perfect spiral ridge that coiled from the base to the flushed, lilac-shaded head. The tip was tapered, ending in a sharp slant and budding with something white and thick. The entire thing looked almost painfully erect, inflating it to a size that, even when compared to the rest of its massive body, sparked a raw, preservationist kind of terror inside of you. Fear took root in the pit of your stomach, sprouting up and into the hollow of your chest, making it difficult to breathe, to resist the urge to curl back into yourself and never come out.

Second to only your fear, just as pervasive and twice as instinctual, was your arousal.

It would’ve been impossible to read its nonexistent expression, but as it shifted its weight, turning to face you, you could’ve sworn the creature was looking at you with as much interest as you held for it. Its scarlet eyes were wide and unfaltering, its gaze only growing more intense as it took a step in your direction, then another, approaching you in slow, tense increments. Despite its stiffness, it didn’t seem awkward or nervous, let alone afraid of you. If anything, it seemed like it was trying not to scare you, even if you couldn’t say there was much weight behind the gesture when you were sitting among the viscera of its last three victims. Still, you held your ground, not daring to so much as blink until it was standing in front of you.

From a distance, it’d been inhumanly tall. Now that it was close enough to touch, it seemed downright monstrous.

With jerky, unpracticed movements, it reached down, towards you. You waited for a beat, then another, and when it failed to pull away or bury its talons in your chest, you hesitantly placed your hand in its palm, a knot forming in the back of your throat as its claws folded and everything up to your wrist was completely encompassed. With a sharp tug, it pulled you to your feet and held steady you when your legs, still shaking, proved too weak to hold your weight. You let out a fleeting, nervous laugh, and in response, it chittered – the sound high-pitched and tittering. It was cute, in the way seeing a lion play with a ball of yarn would’ve been cute. You were still eminently aware that the creature in front of you could end your life, but still.

“Hey,” you managed, eventually, unable to think of anything else to say. You didn’t even know if it could understand you, but you weren’t sure what else to do. “Did you… did you save me?”

Another round of chittering, a slight glimmer in its otherwise blank stare. You smiled. “Thank you, I— I’m not from around here, and I didn’t know I’d have to look out for people like that.” You bowed your head, attempting to let your eyes fall to the ground, but rather, your eyes found its cock again, pressed against its abdomen and leaking. The adrenaline that’d coursed through your veins a few minutes ago was already starting to fade, making room for something else, something closer to an anxious sort of zeal. Something that made you want to do something less than advisable.

Slowly, doing what little you could to stop your hands from shaking, you reached out, your fingertips barely brushing against its soft cheek. It nuzzled into your touch, earning a small smile, a trickle of a laugh. “Poor thing,” you mumbled, almost comforted by the fact that it couldn’t respond, couldn’t mock your poor-excuse for a seductively saccharine tone. “Do you need help with that?”

You saw its talon’s twitch, its wings flutter almost imperceptibly against its back. You weren’t aware that you were moving, not until your back was pressed against the rough bark of the nearest oak, until you felt the clawed hand that it’d wrapped around your waist drop to your hip, then your thigh. The tips of its curved talons scraped against your skin as it ran its claws from your waist to your knee, cutting through the delicate fabric of your shorts and panties and discarding the material without a second thought. The open air was cold against your exposed skin, but something quickly replaced it – a gentle, oppressive warmth that seemed to sap the chill from your skin. Your legs were thrown over its shoulders, held in place by its massive hands as it buried its face between your thighs. You barely had time to straighten your back, to brace yourself before—

Oh.

It was more tongue-like than you’d expected.

Not to say that it was a tongue – you weren’t really sure what you should call it. Long, split at the tip, just rough enough to earn a breathy gasp, a new wave of heat rushing from your core to your head, obscuring your few remaining rational thoughts with a shimmering haze. Its tongue (tendril? proboscis?) ran over the length of your exposed slit, leaving a trail of thick, viscous saliva dripping down the inside of your thighs before jerking its head upward and finding your clit, the tip of its tongue circling the sensitive bundle of nerves as soon as it recognized the airy sounds now falling steadily from your lips for the unabashed moans they were. It was almost experimental, the way it bent and curled its tongue, clearly working towards a quickly approaching goal but constantly looking for a way to get there that much faster, to make your legs twitch that much harder, to force the coil writhing violently in the pit of your stomach wind up that much tighter.

It was all you could do to arch your back against the oak’s trunk and clench your eyes shut, your hands falling to the softened ridge between its curved antennae. Only half-consciously, your attention dominated by the feeling of its coarse tongue swirling over your clit, you raked your fingers through its cropped fur, doing what you could to show the creature your appreciation, your gratitude. You tried to be gentle, but the curling tips of its tongue slipped into your tight entrance and the world burnt white, your body jerking forward and your nails biting into its scalp. There was a deep, guttural sound from somewhere deep in its chest, and its hands rose to your hips, claws scrapping lightly against your skin as its tongue fucked into you. It was thin, but long and so flexible – twisting and coiling against the sensitive walls of your cunt, never repeating the same blissful pattern of thrusts and thrashes more than once. You found yourself grinding into its mouth, seeking out whatever friction you could with the clumsy movements of your hips. The pressure, the weight, the sensation – it was more than you could handle. You could already feel it, a certain tightness in your chest, a tension in your core that—

Without warning, without satisfaction, it pulled away from you, leaving you empty and quickly coming down from a high that you never quite reached. You let out a long whine, more desperate than disappointed, and as if to apologize, the creature nuzzled against the inside of your thigh, chirping softly. Thankfully, your reprieve was a short one. With its hands still on your hips, your body still held aloft by its inhuman strength, you were dragged away from the oak and into its chest as it stood to its full height. Your chest was slotted against the creature’s, the pointed head of its cock pressed flush to your dripping cunt. Its wings fanned out, its hips rolling against yours, and a sharp, aching moan was drawn from your lips as it thrust into you, finally filling you to the brim.

For a long moment, it was all you could do to bury your face in its chest and try to put together a coherent thought. Only half of its length was inside of you, and yet, you could practically feel it pressing into your core, rubbing against the walls of your cunt, the cork-screw ridge that ran from the tip to the base threatening to split you open. It didn’t, though, and even if it had, you couldn’t be sure you would’ve cared. Before the creature could even begin to move, to fuck into you from below, you were grinding against it, mindlessly and desperately trying to chase that fullness, that peak. It didn’t take long for the creature to answer your fervor. There was a raised notch just above the base of its cock, a notch that caught on your clit as it beat into you with heavy, rough strokes. A talon was dragged down the back of your top, tearing the fabric away and allowing its tongue to lave over your chest. All of its gentleness, all of its restraint was thrown aside as its claws dug into your hips, cutting through skin and tinting your pleasure with an intensity that wouldn’t have been possible without a drop of pain.

A scream, wild and euphoric, was torn from your throat, and you wrapped your legs around its waist, dragging your own nails over its back as you fought to keep some part of yourself grounded. Even that was an effort made in vain. You heard its wings shift, felt the air rush against your skin, and suddenly, you were breaking through the canopy – speared on the creature’s cock mid-air, being fucked against the backdrop of the dark, velveteen sky. The shock, the adrenaline, the thrill was enough to leave you clenching around the creature’s cock, your vision burning white as you came undone. You might’ve been able to come down, to melt back into its thrusts and its affection, if something hadn’t clicked in its chest, if its wings hadn’t started to move a little faster, if something hadn’t happened and the creature hadn’t started to emit a sort of reverberating droll – the sort throbbing vibration that only seemed to make the friction against your clit, the feeling of it stretching you open more perfect. You couldn’t be sure how long you stayed in that hazy, half-conscious state – limp and moaning in the arms of a monster, always either spilling over your high or riding out the aftershocks. It only came to a climax – a real climax – when the creature stiffened against you, its cock twitching violently inside of your cunt. It pulled you as close as it possibly could and, with one last wave of pulsing reverberation, released something thick inside of you – viscous and warm and translucent. Like sap. Like nectar.

Light-headed and blissed-out, you buried your face in its chest as it began to descend, the sound of your giddy laughter muffled by its fur. This time, when it pulled away from you with an apologetic chirp, you didn’t complain, only pressing one more lingering kiss into the curve of its shoulder and letting it draw back. Your legs were too weak to hold your weight, so you braced yourself against the nearest oak as the creature disappeared into the dark of the forest, returning a few moments later with a bundle of bloody fabric in its arms. A shirt – a little torn but mostly in one piece, taken from one of the hunters’ corpses, clearly meant to replace your own ruined clothes. You smiled as you slipped it over your head. It was a size too big, and it was sure to raise a few questions, but it would do until you could find help. Whatever ‘help’ meant, at that point.

When you were finished, the creature took you up again; wrapping an arm around your waist and catching you under your knees, pulling you against its broad chest. This time, as it soared over the forest, you were able to admire view, the star-lit sky and sprawling woodland before it landed where the forest had started to thin and give way to the outskirts of a small town. Slowly, carefully, it lowered you to the ground, keeping you upright when your unsteady balance wavered. You laughed and, for longer than a moment, you held its unblinking gaze, Eventually, your hands fell into its claws, your smile turning bitter-sweet and sentimental. “Will I ever see you again?”

There was a slight chittering, a gentle squeeze to your hand. You felt its tongue against your cheek and let your eyes fall shut. By the time you could bring yourself to open them again, Mothman – because it was Mothman, you could only deny it for so long – was gone, barely a silhouette in the distance. You heard the crack of thunder, and watched it fly away as the sky broke open and rain spilled out.

The next day, you would learn that a bridge about twenty miles outside of the city the creature left you in had collapsed the night before, killing hundreds.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere prompts #yandere monster #monster x reader #monster fucking #yandere mothman #mothman x reader #yanderecore #yancore

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theidiotwhowritesthings · 1 year

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I Love You, Cyar'ika

Dark!Din Djarin x Jedi!Female Reader

Warnings: corruption arc, violent murder but not described in depth, possessive behavior, obsession, loss and anxiety, light smut, manhandling of the reader by Din

Word Count: 4,500

Summary: Din Djarin is a man who lost everything. His home, his son, his Creed. But at the end of the day, he still had you. He still had you, and he was determined to keep you. Sequel to 'Ni Ceta, Cyar'ika'

"i am terrified by this dark thing that sleeps in me."

It wasn’t until the second half of your first hour trapped that you realized the chain around your ankle wasn’t just metal. It was beskar. The links branched together were long enough to allow you to walk to the neighboring bathroom, but not long enough to reach the door out. The horror of your situation was truly settling into your very soul. Din had locked you away. Din. The man you loved. And the worst part, as if any of this could possibly be worse, was the fact that he only knew you had tried to run away hours ago.

When exactly did he have this chain made?

You spent the rest of your morning trying to rip the chain out of the wall where it was connected to no avail, and when that didn’t work you somehow tried to pull your ankle out of the clasp. It was impossible. The clasp was just tight enough on your skin that you would not be slipping it unless you started considering something much more dramatic, but you couldn’t bring yourself to stop. You tugged and screamed until your ankle was discolored and your throat was raw.

Then you broke. Quite some time ago, before your extensive Jedi training, you had quite the temper. It took years for you to get a handle on controlling it, but these last few months the frustration and worry had slowly whittled down your very being. So, for the first time in a very long time, you threw a tantrum. You knocked over the nightstand by your bed, hurling every single item you could reach, and destroyed everything that was in your path.

When you were spent, exhausted from the emotional and physical turmoil, you slumped against the wall panting for breath. Your legs splayed out in front of you so you could glare at the beskar that wrapped around your ankle. You felt so pathetic and vulnerable. It didn’t help that you only wore your undergarments and one of Din’s shirts. It had been what you fell asleep in last night while curled up to the man who chained you to a wall.

The bedroom door opened and Din froze in the doorway. You watched his eyes scan the room in shock before they landed on you. He let out a breath of disbelief, “Cyar’ika.”

“I don’t think I want you to call me that right now.” You said.

Din’s shoulders slumped and he had the audacity to look hurt at your words. As if he hadn’t chained you to a fucking wall. He stepped into the room and shrugged out of his robe⏤ tossing it onto the bed as he neared. Din’s eyes landed on your ankle and his eyes widened. “Me’bana!?” He knelt down to take hold of your ankle, but you tried to pull your legs in to avoid his touch. Din, refusing your refusal, grabbed you by the calf and dragged you toward him.

“Get off!” You barked and kicked out at him.

Din pinned you to the floor using his weight to keep your hips down and a hand to pin your wrists above your head. The emotion on his face as he stared down at you was not one of anger or even frustration. It was desperate. “Stop. You’re going to hurt yourself. Dank farrik, you already have. Don’t make it worse.”

“You think I care?” You spat your words at him, squirming. “I don’t! I’ll do what I have to if it means⏤”

Din’s other hand snapped up to grab you by the jaw. His fingers pressed into your cheek, not painful but firm, and his face darkened. Anger finally seeped into his features. “I said, stop. I know you’re upset, I know you’re angry with me, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to let you hurt yourself.” You sucked in a sharp breath when he leaned down to rest his forehead against yours. Hand still on your jaw. Din’s eyes closed as he spoke. “You are going to sit still while I take care of you. Understand? This is not up for debate, cyar’ika.”

You didn’t respond. Refused to. Din let out a soft sigh before releasing your jaw and wrists. He sat up and pulled his weight off of you. Slowly, you sat up and chose to just sit there. He pulled his gloves off, tossing them aside in the mess you had already made of the room, and with a tender touch he pulled your leg into his lap. Din’s warm fingers shifted the beskar so he could peer at the skin beneath it. He hissed at the sight of your already forming bruises⏤ the discoloration would be worse tomorrow.

“Cyar’ika⏤”

“I said don’t call me that.”

Din shook his head. “Why would you do this to yourself?”

“Myself?” You scoffed. “You’re the one who put me in chains, Din!”

“To keep you⏤”

“Safe?” You finished for him, but you spat the word bitterly. Din wilted and continued to carefully trace your sore skin. It bothered you that his touch brought you comfort, but that wasn’t something you could just turn off. “When did you have this chain made, Din?” He didn’t reply. “It’s made of beskar. You didn’t just swing out and pick it up. You had it made. When did you⏤”

“Three weeks ago.” Din kept his eyes downcast, glued to your ankle. You took in a sharp breath. It would have been less painful, less shocking, if Din had just reached out and slapped you. Three weeks ago? How long did he have this planned? His warm brown eyes met yours⏤ a gaze you had always been weak to. Your face must have shown your betrayal because Din squeezed your calf softly. “I never planned to use it. I never wanted to use it.”

“But you did.” You mumbled the words out.

Din winced. “I know, cyar’ika. I know. I’m sorry. You will never understand how sorry I am⏤ I will spend the rest of my life trying to remind you. I⏤” He sighed and his thumb traced lazy circles against your skin where it sat. “More than anything though, my love, I need to protect you. I cannot lose you. I wouldn’t survive that.”

“You’re losing me right now, baby.” You shook your head. Tears springing up. “You’re breaking my heart, you’re losing my trust⏤” Din squeezed his eyes shut. Pained and devastated. “How do you think this will end?”

“You will understand. One day.” Din said firmly. He spoke like he was trying to convince himself of this. “Until then, I am just doing what is necessary.” Din rose to find the first aid kit and when he returned you just stared at him. He knelt down once more and wrapped padding around your ankle so the metal wasn’t touching bare skin anymore. When he was satisfied with how it looked, he carefully held your arms and pulled you up to stand. Din cupped your face with his hands, setting a tender kiss on the top of your head before choosing to rest his forehead against yours. “I love you, cyar’ika.”

This wasn’t love, but you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him that.

The only times you were unchained from the wall was when you were with Din. He’d take your hand in his and the two of you would wander down the halls or outside of the castle. Always two Mandalorian guards lingering behind you both. You had one arm looped through Din’s. His thick robe draped over your shoulders once more.

“Bo thinks offering an olive branch would make us seem weak. I’m inclined to agree with her.” Din thought aloud. Most of these walks were him talking to you about his day. You didn’t offer much more than the occasional hum or a snide comment if he pressed too hard. That’s what two weeks of being chained like an animal could do to you. “We have more power than them. It wouldn’t be too difficult to overtake them.”

You hummed. Din glanced down at you and his arm squeezed around yours. There was hope shining in his eyes as if he was eager to hear you offer any sort of commentary. You focused your gaze forward. “The Din I fell in love with wouldn’t jump head first into a war.” His steps stuttered. “He’d try for peace.”

“Cyar’ika.” Din came to a slow stop and turned to face you. His other hand lifted to rest on yours. It trapped your hand against his forearm. “I am the man you fell in love with. That has not changed.” Your eyes darted down to the darksaber hanging from his belt. Din sighed. “This is still about the saber?”

You shook your head. “It always will be. That damned saber has changed you.”

“It hasn’t⏤”

“It has!” You yanked your arm away from his and took a step back. Anger flaring once more. “I keep telling you. It’s poison.” The energy that surrounded it felt suffocating, but it had only gotten worse these last few days. The possession was still there and now it’s tendrils seemed to be trying to seep out into your very soul. As if it could convince you that it had good intentions. “It’s me or the darksaber, Din.”

He shook his head and you shoved him once in the chest. He barely stumbled back. The Mandalorian guards leapt forward, hands on their weapons in preparation to take out the threat against their King, but Din threw his arm out to stop them. The glare he leveled in their direction was deadly. They both took sheepish steps away. Din focused back on you and the anger in his eyes dissipated back into despair. “You can’t make me choose.” He sighed. “We’ve talked about this. I need the darksaber to keep you safe.”

“We’re just going to argue in circles forever, aren’t we?” You sighed.

Din stepped closer and caressed your face. He leaned in to capture you in a kiss, but you turned at the last second so his lips pressed against your cheek instead. Since the morning you woke up with a beskar anklet, you hadn’t let Din touch you. The first night he slipped into bed behind you, just to sleep, and you had lost your mind. Now, he slept on the small couch that was pushed against the wall in your living space. He pulled back enough that his lips were no longer touching you, but he didn’t stray far.

“I love you, cyar’ika.”

He truly believed it, but obsession⏤ possession⏤ was not love.

At the month mark, you knew things needed to change. Din was too stubborn to concede. He’d keep you chained to that fucking wall forever. So, you started small. You had to play this smart. It began with little things like thanking him when he brought you food or new gifts. Choosing to participate in conversations when the two of you went on walks around the palace. A lingering touch here and there when you were able, and you never shied away from his own touch.

Still, a sudden change in demeanor would give you away. Din, as blinded as he was by the darksaber, was not an idiot. He’d see through your act in seconds, and the fate of his and your life depended on deceiving him. You had to get off this rock. You had to get to help. After thinking about it long and hard, you decided you needed to get to Skywalker. The other Jedi were your best bet. It was just a matter of getting there.

Oddly, your saving grace came in the form of an attack.

Because Din never kept you fully in the loop of the things happening in Mandalore, you weren’t entirely sure what was happening. Being chained to the wall when the explosions started did not help either. For the first fifteen minutes of the disaster all you could do was stand in place, frozen, while straining to listen. Eventually, the explosions stopped, but it was replaced with yelling and thundering footsteps. Not a good sign. As it got closer and closer you searched the room for a weapon or hiding the place. You wouldn’t fit under the bed and even if you hid in the bathroom there would be a chain lying on the floor leading straight to you.

The yelling came right out the door and you didn’t even have time to register the language or tone before the door itself was kicked open. Pirates. That was your best guess. Three men dressed for a fight stepped into your space. Two humans and one Trandoshan. They spoke a language you didn’t recognize, something from the Outer Rims, but even when addressing you they never swapped to Basic. One of the humans took a step closer, smirking, and you shifted to a ready stance. The last time you had felt so ill prepared for a fight was back when you first began your Jedi training.

Even on a good day, back before Din spiraled into his current state, you were not good at using the Force. Reading energies was your strength, but healing and telekinesis was never your forte. Now? Being as stressed and buried in negative energy as you were, it was nearly non-existent. Every day you spent around the darksaber you felt further from the Force for some Maker forsaken reason. The Force you recognized, at least.

The Trandoshan began to rummage through the room scavenging, but the two human men were still approaching you. They laughed and motioned to the chain around your ankle as they spoke to one another. Cautiously, you took a few steps back so the chain’s tension wouldn’t accidentally catch you. When the first man lunged you met him halfway with an uppercut into his throat. It was a blur of muscle memory and desperation from then. You weren’t doing well, you were surviving, but when one of the men got their hands on the chain they were able to pull your legs out from under you.

You roughly landed on your back with a grunt, but the other man was quick to pin you down. You thrashed and screamed trying to get loose, but the other just piled on. Their voices were grating, their laughs sent chills down your spine, and their touch made you nauseous. It all boiled into an uncontrollable rage that slipped from your body with a roar. Suddenly, both men were blown clear across the room. You sat up, breathing hard, and glanced down at your hands. Had you just…? There was no time to puzzle through the power that just flowed from you because the Trandoshan leapt across the room to tackle and pin you back to the floor.

He didn’t have a firm grip on you, and you were able to flip over on him. The victory was short lived when he threw his elbow back, crushing your nose, and you cried out in pain before falling back. The other two men had risen once more, but all of you froze at the terrible roar that echoed down the hall and filled the room with a suffocating tension. It called out your name. You recognized that voice.

In that one moment, a feral pleasure gripped your soul and allowed your anger to roam free. You grinned up at the men, teeth bloody from your broken nose, “You’re fucked.”

Din stalked into the room, seconds later, and he was possessed by his own rage. The darksaber glowed in his hands, as bright as a burning flame, and it cast terrifying shadows across his face which was twisted in hatred⏤ in bloodlust. With the first swing of the saber, the men knew they were not going to bode well and they began to plead, but their words fell on deaf ears. You watched as Din tore them to shreds, a force to be reckoned with, and a sick grin flickered across your features before you could reign it back. Din was leaving the men in literal pieces, brutal in his attack and inflicting the most terror and pain he could manage before taking a life, and you felt a bubbling pleasure building in your chest.

It was only when his warpath was finished, when he deactivated the saber, that your smile fell. The tendrils of pleasure that had seeped into your very soul with watching the love of your life murder on your behalf slipped away. You took in a sharp breath. What the fuck was that? Why the fuck had you⏤ Your hands began to tremble followed quickly by the rest of your body.

“Cyar’ika.” Din gasped and crossed through the carnage to pull you off the ground and into his arms. His panicked words all came out in a rush of Mando’a before he was calm enough to ask once more in Basic. “Are you alright? Did they hurt you?” His gloves wiped away the blood as he examined your nose. “Are you⏤”

“I’m fine.” You replied shakily, but you felt far from it. Physically, there was nothing wrong. Not really. Your nose would heal, the bruises you garnered in the fight would fade. But mentally, spiritually, emotionally… Your eyes drifted down to the darksaber on his belt. What was it doing to you? It took a moment to realize Din was still talking. You shook your head. “What?”

“I said that was the last of them. They came for revenge, but most of the damage was external. Only a few small groups got into the palace.” Din’s hands were petting your hair. Between every word of comfort he’d lean forward and press his lips to your face. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Focus. Focus. Back to the plan. Back to your mission.

“No.” You swallowed roughly. “I need the chain off.” Din didn’t respond. He just stared at you with wide eyes filled with the fear of a man who had nearly lost the person he swore to protect. You lifted your hands to cup his face and you shook your head. “I’m not going anywhere. You’re not losing me. I’m not losing you. You were right.” You pushed the words out and the tears that fell from your eyes were painfully real. You cried for how lost you felt. It was like you were stuck in quicksand and the more you struggled the deeper you were pulled to it’s dark depths. “I was so scared. I couldn’t fight back. Din⏤”

Din didn’t hesitate. He knelt down and pulled a key from the pouch in his belt to unclasp the metal around your ankle. Hearing it clatter to the ground, feeling the weight drop off, had you sucking in a breath of shock and relief. Din slowly rose once more and you found yourself lost in his eyes⏤ those pretty brown eyes that made you forget every single worry you had. The warm brown eyes that brought you comfort in your lowest moments. The loving brown eyes that gazed at you in worship.

“Stay with me.” You mumbled and cupped his face again.

Din turned his head to press a kiss against your hand. “I’m not going anywhere, cyar’ika.”

Your fingers tightened around him and a shuddering sob left your lips. “Do you love me?” Din looked affronted by the question. His mouth fell open, but you cut him off. “Baby, just listen, if you love me you’ll put the saber away for tonight.” His eyebrows furrowed in confusion and a hiccup left your lips. “Please, baby, just tonight. I just want you. I want only you.”

Din took a slow breath and then took a step out from your grasp. Fear struck you at first, but Din simply crossed the room to his locked chest which sat in the corner. Slowly, he unlatched each piece of his armor and set it carefully into the chest. When he was left with only his flight suit, Din grasped the darksaber and held it in his bare hand for a moment. Finally, he set it into the chest and closed it. The cursed item was just tucked away, out of sight, but it still made a difference. The unrecognizable dark energy that had been plaguing you seemed to disperse and a familiar sensation filled your chest. It was the Force you recognized. For the first time in a month, you felt like you could breathe.

He walked back to where you stood and settled a soft and hesitant hand on the side of your face, “I do love you, cyar’ika. I know this has been difficult and you haven’t been happy.” Din looked heartbroken as he stared down at you. “But you are everything to me.”

This may have started as just a plan to ease him into a lull of security, but that had been forgotten as you stared up at him. For this one second you felt like yourself, and Din felt like himself. A swell of love overwhelmed you and you pushed closer to capture his lips with yours. Din sighed into the kiss, but before you could deepen it he pulled back. “Din?”

“We don’t have to do this, cyar’ika.” Din whispered. “You were just attacked, stressed, and⏤ This⏤ This isn’t… I don’t want you to feel pressured.”

“I don’t.” You shook your head and it was the absolute truth. Right now, Din felt like the man you loved. Maybe it was weak of you to cave, weak of you to seek out his comfort, but you missed him. You craved him. “I want you, and as long as you want me⏤”

Din brought his lips back to yours, his hand cupping the back of your neck, as he softly kissed you. Every minute movement filled with adoration. You wrapped your arms around his neck to draw yourself closer to him. Pulling back to catch a breath, he left a trail of kisses up your jaw to your ear. “Cyar’ika, I always want you.” His hands settled on your hips to bring you flush against him. “I always need you.”

Your hands grew frantic wanting nothing more than to feel his skin against yours. Just like in a fight, you didn’t need to think. Loving him was muscle memory. You peeled the upper half of his flight suit off his body and he took gasping breaths as you broke away from his kiss to caress the scarred skin of his torso. Your nails lightly raked over the skin overlying his ribs as you leaned in to press soft kisses against every scar you could find. Din trembled at your touch, a breathless gasp tearing ragged from his lips.

His own hands lifted to tilt your face up so he could lean down and start a tender kiss. Every slow, languid motion was one born of love rather than lust. There was an innocence to the brushes of skin against skin, and for this one moment nothing existed but you and Din. Not the poisonous darksaber buried in a chest or the corpses of the men that meant you harm. As Din picked you up and pinned you into the bed, his weight pressing into you, all that mattered was Din Djarin.

“I love you, cyar’ika.” Din murmured into the skin of your neck⏤ his face buried there as his hands roamed your body with a familiarity born of routine. “I love you so much, cyar’ika.”

Your heart felt so full, and you wondered if you were the one confused on the extent of what the word love could mean.

Din laughed and you lightly shoved him in the side.

“It’s not funny. Don’t laugh at me.”

“I’m not laughing at you, cyar’ika.” He replied as you grinned. “I’m laughing with you.”

“Yeah, I’m not laughing, you ass.”

He continued to chuckle and you shook your head before looping your arm back through his and leaning against him. Mandalore had been relatively calm since the attack two weeks ago, and you had never felt closer to Din. What had you been so worried about? The two of you were safe and had one another. That was all that mattered at the end of the day. You had misjudged the darksaber’s energy. That possession was just another form of loyalty. It brought you and Din the strength to protect one another. A bond. That’s all it was.

“My Mand’alor.”

Din’s feet paused, bringing you to a stop as well, and you both turned to face a Mandalorian who now knelt before the both of you. The woman held a hand across her chest in pledge. Din didn’t motion for the woman to rise, but hummed for her to continue.

“Our allies who have settled on Concordia are requesting aid currently. Raiders have been plaguing them the last few weeks, but now they are beginning to edge in on the main settlement.”

“Concordia has the means to defend itself...” Din replied.

You squeezed his arm and he glanced down at you. You shook your head. “Concordia is not Mandalore, they’re just allies that⏤ like you said⏤ have their own resources.” Nonchalantly, you shrugged. “We have to protect our own. Any aid we offer to them is taken from our own walls. Our city should come first, Din.”

Din lifted your hand to plant a kiss on the back of it. “Could not have said it better myself, cyar’ika.” He motioned for the Mandalorian to be on her way before the two of you continued down the hall. Only a few yards later, Din chuckled. “I have a gift for you.”

“Oh, do you?” You asked with a smirk.

He pulled you to a stop once more “Close your eyes.”

“Really?”

Din raised an eyebrow at you and you playfully rolled your eyes before closing them and holding your hands out. You heard the sound of shuffling as Din moved. A beat later something warm settled in your palms and you sucked in a sharp breath at the overwhelming flood of emotions that bared down on you. Your eyes opened to first see Din’s excited and loving smile, but then your gaze drifted down to the lightsaber in your open hands.

“I figure it’s about time you’re reunited.” Din chuckled. It had been nearly two months since it had been taken from you. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to your temple. Your fingers slowly closed around the hilt you had built with love so long ago, and waves of warmth radiated down your arms and into your chest. “I⏤” A different voice called out and Din sighed in irritation. “One moment.”

Din stepped around you to address whoever had called out for him and you just stared and stared at the lightsaber. Possession and obsession was not love. It was not the same as loyalty and protection. You blinked in shock as the clear thoughts cut through the fog you hadn't even realized you were living in. You had been yourself, but for some reason your priorities had changed starkly. Not for some reason. One reason. That fucking saber.

"Hey." Din returned to your side and you heard panic in his voice. Those dark tendrils from the saber surrounded you, but could not sink in. He set his hand on your face and his thumb caressed your cheek. "You're crying."

"I...I'm happy." You lied. "Thank you, Din."

"Of course." Din replied though he looked hesitant to believe you. He leaned in to press a kiss between your eyes. "I love you, cyar'ika."

You loved him, and you almost lost yourself.

But, not again.

#the mandalorian #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #female reader #reader insert #dark!din djarin #mando #mando x reader #mando x you #mandalorian fanfic #mandalorian x you #mandalorian x reader

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magswrite · 26 days

Text

prompt: spring (april 1st). 1,228 words. @jegulus-microfic

“Whoa, careful,” James says, as Regulus shifts in the boat, trying to get a better look at the branches descending over them.

James, in all his foresight, had decided to row them out beneath one of the biggest cherry trees, filling the sky with the bright pink of the branches. Still, it’s a gorgeous day—blue, with little white puffs of cloud. In James’ opinion, it couldn’t be more perfect.

It’s full bloom for the cherry blossoms, and James can see in Regulus’ eyes the awe of it all. Around them, the petals have scattered on the surface of the water, rippling slightly from the weight of the boat, up and down, up and down.

Across from James, Regulus looks perfectly serene, head tilted back as he gazes up at the trees. Woven through the blossoms are nearly-black branches. James can’t help but think they match Regulus’ hair, and the way it falls around his face, all delicate.

That’s the perfect way to describe Regulus, James thinks. Delicate. Like the blossoms surrounding them.

It’d taken plenty of work to get the two of them here. Well—alone. It required some bribery of Remus, and a promise to Sirius that James wouldn’t capsize the boat.

“I just want to make sure,” Sirius had teased. “You’re not exactly the most careful person, and Reggie doesn’t like the water.”

“I’m not going to capsize the boat, Sirius.”

Sirius had given him a good hard glare, and then nodded. “Just be careful. That’s my brother.”

Oh, James knew too well what it was to be careful. Knows too well that he needs to be extra careful around Regulus. James has a penchant for breaking things (not people, of course, but he’s never been poised). He’s always been a bit clumsy, but for Regulus, he wants to try.

Being careful, that is.

When Regulus’ gaze drifts back down, meeting James’ eyes, there’s a lightness in him. There’s a half-smile on his face, and James feels as if he’s seeing Regulus in full for the first time. Blossoming.

He’d been almost a ghost for the past year, turning up on Sirius and James’ doorstep last spring, all rain-soaked and shaking. Sirius, of course, had welcomed him with open arms, but it’d taken plenty of coaxing to get him to open up to the rest of them—James, and Remus, and Peter. Some of the girls.

It had been a far cry from the Regulus sitting in front of James, now.

Still, the thought lingered. Delicate.

James feels as if he reaches out and touches Regulus now, he’ll crumple. Regulus, just-blooming, would be crushed under the weight of James. James, who’s just heavy. He’s got a heavy heart, and heavy hands.

“What?” Regulus asks, and James realizes he’s been staring.

James shakes his head. “Nothing.”

In Regulus’ hair is a single petal, broken off from one of the branches above. It’s a mirror of the color of the trees, and James has the sudden urge to reach out, and sweep it away from Regulus’ curls.

Regulus gives him a look, knowing. “You can tell me, Jamie.”

Jamie. A nickname he’d earned after months and months of Regulus calling him Potter.

James opens his mouth to say something—anything, though finds nothing really does come out. What is there to say? I’ve loved you from the moment you set foot on my doorstep? I fall in love with you a little more, every day? I orchestrated this entire thing to confess, and now I can’t find the words?

“I’m just—I’m being careful,” James says, holding his hands firmly at his sides. Desperately, he wants to reach into Regulus’ hair.

“Careful?” Regulus states. “You’re awfully concerned with that, today.”

Oh, James thinks. Not quite what I was getting at.

“Being careful never hurts, does it?” James says. He feels as if he’s echoing his father, or Sirius.

Regulus gives him a long look. “You’re distracted.”

“No, I’m not,” James says.

Right now, distracted is probably the worst thing he can be, though. Mostly, because Regulus has been looking forward to the cherry blossoms for the past five months—planning a trip all the way to Japan just for it.

“Mum and Dad never would’ve let us, as children,” Regulus had said. “I know it’s silly—“

“—It’s not silly,” James had insisted. “We’ll go.”

“James, it’s fucking Japan.”

James had shrugged. “We’ll go.”

Regulus clearly had thought he was just saying that, though he meant it in full seriousness. Meant it ever since Regulus mentioned spring was his favorite season, because of the flowers. Because of new beginnings.

“Yes, you’re distracted,” Regulus continues. “I don’t like it. You have to enjoy it.”

James rolls his eyes. “I’m already enjoying myself, I’ll have you know. Spectacular view.”

He says the last bit like it’s sarcastic, though it isn’t at all.

“All you’re looking at is me,” Regulus teases back.

The words come before James can think.

“You’re exactly the point.”

It’s in full seriousness; nothing teasing reaches his voice.

For a moment, Regulus looks stunned. As if he can’t quite believe what James just said, though James thinks that might be wishful thinking. Heavy hands, James thinks, heavy heart. He’s a bit too heavy for Regulus. James’ll crush him.

Then, the flush starts across his face, cheeks turned pink. Delicate.

“You don’t mean that,” Regulus says. It’s under his breath, and James is almost certain he isn’t quite meant to hear it.

“Yes,” James responds quickly. “I do.”

(If there’s anything that’ll convince him to speak, it’s self-deprecation. Particularly in Regulus. It’s a nasty habit James is teasing out of him.)

Regulus flushes again.

“I really do mean it, Reg,” he continues. “I mean it. And I think it all the time. Because—I think I’m a bit in love with you.”

Across from him, Regulus bites at his lip, as though in concentration. And James shouldn’t let his heart jump at the movement (he knows it’s just a habit of Regulus’—it doesn’t really mean anything), but it does.

“Is that why Sirius is in a boat with Remus?” Regulus asks.

Of course, Regulus would take a moment like this to be funny. “Yes,” James hisses.

“And is that why you’re so—fidgety?”

James nods. Fuck. Fuck, fuck fuck. It seems to be playing through his mind, in a loop.

The pause seems infinite.

Then: “That’s all?”

For another moment, James is stunned. “What?”

“You’ve been weird all day. Like, avoiding me. I thought you were about to tell me I had to move out, or—“

“—No,” James says, just at the mere thought of it. “Nonono.”

Regulus opens his mouth. Shuts it. His eyes flicker again over the branches, extending above. James wishes, for once, he could know what was running through Regulus’ mind.

“So, this was…”

James nods.

“How long?”

He tilts his head to the side, in contemplation. The love doesn’t really feel like it has a beginning. Or a middle. Or even an end.

“A while.”

“And you waited until now?” Regulus states.

James flushes. “I wanted it to be perfect.”

“Perfect?” Regulus questions. “Well. It almost is.”

Almost. The word reverberates in James’ mind, back and forth and back and forth, swaying like the motion of the boat.

“Almost?”

Regulus rolls his eyes. “Shut up and kiss me, you idiot.”

James does, though first, he brushes the petal from Regulus’ hair.

#listen i've been obsessed with cherry blossoms recently #so this was a must #i think i'm gonna try and do these every day of april #jegulus #starchaser #sunseeker #james x regulus #regulus x james #james potter #regulus black #marauders #marauders fanfic #jegulus microfic #microfic

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a-world-of-whimsy-5 · 8 months

Note

Could I please request Thranduil with a breeding kink with the lavender field prompt? 🔥🔥 thank you so much!! Your writings lift my spirits!

Here you go!

"Lavender Haze"

Pairing: Thranduil x Fem. Reader (elf/second person POV) | Location: Greenwood the great

Themes: Smut | Soft

Word count: 1.6k words

Summary : A game of hide of seek take place in a lavender field. What price will the loser have to pay?

Rating: 🔥🔥 | Minors DNI | 🔞 | You are responsible for the media you consume

Rules and tag form here | Prompts for requests here

A lavender haze.

That was all you could see in the periphery of your vision—an endless haze of the richest lavender swaying with the wind. The blooms rustled, murmuring with a hushed voice of their own every time the wind rose. It was sheer happenstance when you came across this field of wild lavender. Thrilled with this new find, you made haste to ride back to Amon Lanc and tell its prince. Thranduil listened with rapt attention and insisted that you take him there. No one knew of such a field, and he wanted to see it with his own eyes.

The prince came. And he saw. And believed. And a merry chase then ensued. No one besides the two of you knew of this little slice of paradise, and Thranduil wanted to make the most of it. Others would learn of the field's existence soon enough, and the opportunities to be alone within it would grow sparse.

You ran and ducked behind tall bushes. Hid behind the thick trunks of gnarled trees with branches so low they kissed the soft grass that grew beneath them. And Thranduil chased you still, calling out for you and searching for you, the heady rush of the chase working its magic on him.

"Where are you, meleth?"

You clapped your hands over your mouth and kept still. Thranduil was close to the oak tree you were hiding behind. You could not hear his footsteps; the prince moved like a wraith, not making a single sound. You press against the bark of the tree, wondering if he heard you or if he knew where you were hiding.

"Meleth?"

It was as if he were further away now, but you keep yourself concealed anyway. When it sounded as if he had moved quite a distance, you peered around the tree, pleased to find him no longer there. You take off again, giggling and smug, confident you have thrown him off your trail.

"There you are!" Thranduil ran in from behind and threw his arms around you. He cackled when you squealed and squirmed and tried to free yourself from his hold. His moving away from where you were had just been a sly trick. He was there the entire time, hidden, waiting for you to come out into the open.

"Th-thranduil!" Giddy laughter ripped through you when you tried and tried, and he simply continued to carry you deeper into the field. "Let g-go!"

"No!" Thranduil's laughter mirrored yours. He listened to you grumble and plot your escape, and laughed again, louder this time. "Yield, meleth. Escape is futile. Surely you know this by now."

"Never!" That never lasted no more than a few moments, when you realized you would not be able to extricate yourself from his vise-like grip no matter how hard you tried. You give up and go limp against him.

Thranduil sets you down amidst fragrant purple blooms. "Now, tell me. What was our wager again?"

"If I win, you are to be my slave for the turn of a moon," you answer quickly, more than a little disappointed that losing the wager meant not having Thranduil wait on you hand and foot. Literally.

Thranduil smirked, clearly pleased with himself. "And if I win?"

"I am to let you have your way with me. In whatever way you desire."

"A prospect that does not disappoint you, yes?"

You huff and cross your arms. How easy it was for him to read you! "It does not."

Thranduil smiled wolfishly and sat down, extending his hand to you. "Come, meleth. It is time to pay the piper, so to speak."

You narrowed your eyes and made yourself comfortable next to him, lying down on the grass as you did so. The sky was beautiful, all puffy white clouds against a field of the palest, clearest blue. You rest your head over your folded arms and watch while they stay low and move slowly. Thranduil is content to watch you. He lays down beside you, an enchanting smile slowly working its way across his face when you turn to face him. His eyes light up when you smile in return.

"I will pay," you reply with a grin.

Thranduil beamed and leaned forward, the sweetness of his kiss pouring into your throat when his mouth opened over yours. Deft, experienced hands worked on the clasps and lacing on your robes. Your gown loosened beneath his touch. The prince helps you out of your clothes, barely taking a moment to marvel at the sight of you exposed. Thranduil then sat up, his clothes rustling while he rid himself of his tunic and undershirts, belt and sash and boots. They all joined the growing pile by the side. He slipped out of his breeches, sighing in relief when his throbbing cock sprang free. He did not give you time to even think or breathe. He simply captured your lips with his.

Your nerves were aflame; every inch of you was heated and sensitive to his touch. And you were bold, reaching out to ghost a finger over the crown of his member. Thranduil moaned lustily and drew away, content again to watch, this time while you took him into your hands. He moved his hips, thrusting in time with your strokes. The warmth and frenzy of your pace were unceasing. It nearly undid him and almost made him cum all over your hand.

"Not like this." Thranduil loosened your grip and pushed you onto your back. "I would much rather finish inside you."

He was so warm when he lowered himself onto you—slowly and carefully—and tried not to lose control of himself and hurt you. He did not enter you immediately. Thranduil kept still while you touched his face and his hair, and ran your hands over his arms and chest and back. The prince was perfect, like an exquisite marble sculpture come to life.

"Mine," you declare without even hesitating. "All mine."

Joy welled within Thranduil's heart. "As you are mine," he exclaimed with pride before dipping his head.

He kissed with tenderness, then hunger, then fury, when your mouth parted for the warmth of his sinful tongue. Thranduil knitted his tapered fingers around yours, moaning into your mouth when your free hand slid around his waist and nails dug into his flesh.

"Naughty girl," he breathed wistfully. "Now open those beautiful legs for me."

He groaned under his breath when your legs slid open and hooked around his hips. Thranduil pushed in, inch by agonizing inch, sinking his shaft into your slit. The prince was built bigger than most, and you felt it in the pressure around your core. He kept still, his chest heaving and his heart racing wildly, while you adjusted to his size. Arousal pooled in your belly when even the slightest movement sent shock waves shooting up your spine like lightning. You no longer wanted him to stay still. You wanted him to move.

"I am ready."

Thranduil's pace was merciless. He rutted into you like a wild beast, growing drunk on your transported moans.

"Look at how well you take me," he cries against your throat. "It is as if you have been made for me."

All you could do was hold onto him while he bucked his hips against the insides of your thighs. "Perhaps it is because we were made for each other."

"Yes," Thranduil agreed. "Meant for each other. You are mine, just as I am yours. We belong together."

His grip on your hand tightened. He plunged deeper and harder. It made you see stars. "More," you plead shamelessly. "More. Please."

Thranduil grunted softly. "Look at you. Listen to how desperate you sound. Should I deny you?"

"No!" you keen. "Please do not do that."

"Pathetic." Thranduil hissed hoarsely, his hips now undulating every time he thrust. "But I suppose I will concede to your plea. I am going to finish inside you, so you know who you belong to."

"Please." The knowledge of him filling you with his seed unraveled you. "Do it. Please."

He nearly fell apart when he heard. Thranduil let go of your hand and gripped your chin, forcing you to open your eyes and look at him. He wanted to see how your words could undo him. "Are you ready?"

You did see. You saw how his eyes had darkened and how raw, unbridled lust flashed in them. And you were so ready for him.

"Yes," you sob in relief. "So ready."

Thranduil ran his tongue along the curve of your throat. It made you tremble beneath him and whimper against his shoulder. His thrusts grew erratic and relentless. It sent you spiraling and made the world grow dark in your eyes. Thranduil gasped sharply while your walls contracted and milked his cock. It shattered him and made his orgasm rip through him. He glanced at your belly, his thoughts running riot with visions of his spend filling your cunt. It heightened the bliss he was already drowning in. With one last, satisfying grunt, he came to a stop, his arms and body trembling from the exertion.

Nothing could be heard save for the wind rustling through flowers and leaves and the deeper sound of ragged breathing. Thranduil slowly moved onto his back, taking you with him. You sighed in contentment while he held you against his chest. When you moved, he stopped you.

"Keep me inside you a little longer," Thranduil insists. "Just a little longer, then you and I can go for a swim in that pond nearby."

#thranduil #Thranduil smut #Thranduil x reader #Thranduil imagine #greenwood the great #x reader #x reader insert #reader insert #reader requests #reader insert request #💫a world of whimsy writes

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steddieas-shegoes · 1 year

Note

For the requests: Steve has a good relationship with his parents & when they come back from wherever & someone (Nancy/Robin) tells them about the UD & his parents react by calling out every single adult involved. Maybe he got badly hurt, & they were called in & upon finding out they call out Joyce, Hop, Owens & Murray for the way no adult inthese kids lives had any clue about what their kids were going through. Nor were their parents given notice esp bc having underaged kids sign NDAs is not legal nor legally binfing (Maybe all the parents of the party kids are there and get all the info just like the Harrington's)

MY DARLING! LIGHT OF MY LIFE! HONESTLY this one hit different. You know how much I love making Steve suffer and when he has good parents, a lot of his suffering disappears. But it was nice to branch out a bit. Also finally some common sense! KIDS SHOULD NEVER BE SIGNING AN NDA THEMS THE FACTS! Steve's parents are here to fight for everyone so WELCOME TO THE CHAOS OF STEVE'S OVERPROTECTIVE LAWYER PARENTS! - Mickala ❤️

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

Steve Harrington had managed to avoid the hospital for years. Not because he shouldn’t have gone, but because he refused to go.

But this time, he was unconscious, which means he didn’t have a choice.

And now, staring at his parents’ shocked and appalled faces next to his bed, he realized he wished he’d just died, actually.

“This happens…often?” Anne Harrington asked Dr. Owens, who looked like he wished he was also dead.

“It does happen more often than we like. But it appears to be fixed now! Steven has been a wonderful asset to us, which is why we want to make sure he is comfortable and all his medical expenses are paid.”

He handled that well, Steve thought.

“And this is the first time anyone has bothered to call us?” Richard Harrington asked much too quietly.

That was his ‘I’m about to lose my shit’ voice and Steve didn’t have the energy to deal with it.

“I do apologize, we had to deal with enough NDAs as it is,” Dr. Owens replied, not realizing that he was speaking to two lawyers who were about to ruin his life.

Steve let his head rest against the pillow of the hospital bed, sighing.

“At what age did Steve sign his first NDA?”

“I believe he was 16.”

“And did he have a lawyer present?” Anne didn’t wait for a response before continuing. “I can tell you he didn’t. We’re his lawyers and we were not even called. Are you the one in charge of this shitshow?”

It wasn’t often Anne Harrington said a curse word. Steve only ever heard it a handful of times, usually after hanging up with a client who would lose their case.

“I am one of the people who is tasked with this, yes. But if you don’t mind, I need to check in with a few people before I can truly devote time to this conversation.”

“Oh, please. Continue on with your day. Don’t mind us sitting next to our son in the hospital.”

Dr. Owens sighed, knowing this fight was barely even starting, and left the room.

Steve’s parents turned to him.

“How many concussions have you had?”

“Why didn’t you call us?”

“Who else knows about this?”

“Will this happen again?”

The questions were too much, and Steve’s head was pounding. He couldn’t do this right now.

“Hopper.”

“Jim Hopper? I thought he died.”

Admittedly, his parents had been out of town for a while. They didn’t know Hopper was back as of a few months ago, and probably didn’t realize he’d taken over as chief again.

“He didn’t. He’s around here somewhere.”

“He knew about all this?”

“Mom, I love you, but my head is splitting down the middle. I need to stop talking.”

Anne slowly brushed her hand through his hair, planting a kiss on his forehead.

“Of course, honey. We’ll be back soon. Do not sign anything without us here, okay?”

“Okay.”

His dad briefly touched his shoulder before they both left the room.

Finally, some peace and quiet.

Until he was woken up by yelling.

Not just any yelling. Richard Harrington yelling.

If he wasn’t chained to the bed by an IV and blood transfusion bag, he would be up and in the hallway.

Apparently, he didn’t need to worry, though.

His mom came into the room, leaving the door open to the hallway so he could hear everything.

“I’m glad you’re awake, honey. We have a lot to talk about.”

“Who is he yelling at?”

“Every adult who didn’t bother to take care of you the way they should. Not just you, but all of these kids,” she said, tone more annoyed by the second.

“I don’t understand.”

“Honey, you’ve been protecting these kids in ways you never should have had to. All these adults who were involved never told any of us what was going on. They let you keep standing in the line of fire, getting hurt, seeing things you shouldn’t have to and never even bothered to call us. You signed NDAs with the government without parents or lawyers present. That alone is illegal, do you understand that?”

“So I’m in trouble?”

“Oh, honey, no. You’re not in trouble. Your dad’s having a few words with the chief and Dr. Owens.”

Steve tuned in to what was being said in the hall.

“I cannot fathom what you’ve done. Expecting these children to save this town, the world, and not even have their own parents know? Who are they supposed to turn to? You? And what have you done to help them? As far as I’m concerned, you should be arrested and imprisoned. If I have anything to say about it, you will!”

“Mom, can you please get him to stop? I know he’s upset, but Hop really protected us a lot, okay? And Dr. Owens was just doing his job.”

“A lot of people have just been doing their jobs instead of considering that maybe children shouldn’t be responsible for defeating actual monsters.”

Well. Yeah, she did have a point there.

“Where is everyone?”

Anne sat on the edge of his bed, holding his hand, running her thumb along the back of it.

“The Munson boy is in the room next door, he’ll be okay. Robin is home with her parents. Most of the kids are now with their parents, but that Sinclair boy is still being watched for concussion symptoms.”

Steve sighed with relief.

No one was lost. Everyone had pretty minor injuries. Maybe he was able to protect everyone.

“That Dustin boy is relentless,” Anne said with a smile. “He really looks up to you.”

“Yeah, he’s like a brother to me.”

“His mom didn’t know about any of this either, did she?”

Steve thought about it.

Honestly, she probably had some idea. Maybe not of the real details, but she had to know Dustin was involved in something he couldn’t talk about. Same with most of the parents.

But Steve’s parents were gone a lot. Their main office was in Boston, and they would often have to travel around the country for their clients. He was used to not seeing them, only getting to talk to them on the phone once or twice a week.

It’s easy to hide shit over the phone, and when they did manage to make it home, the Upside Down monsters were safely tucked away underground.

They had no way of knowing anything was wrong. He did it on purpose, just like all of the kids did.

Even without signing the NDAs, he’s pretty sure they wouldn’t have told their parents.

“I think we just thought we were protecting you guys.”

“Honey, it’s not your job to protect us. It’s our job to protect you.”

She looked so sad.

Steve didn’t want her to be sad.

“Mom, you couldn’t have done anything. And we’re all safe.”

His dad walked in the room, face red. He closed the door behind him and ran his hand over his face.

“Doctor said Steve can go when the nurse comes to disconnect him from everything soon,” he said, coming to sit in the chair by his bed.

“That’s good news. We’ll get you home and settled. We canceled our flight out so we can stick around for a while and make sure you’re okay,” Anne said with a smile.

“You guys don’t have to cancel your trip. Your clients need you.”

“Not as much as you need us, son,” Richard said, giving him a soft smile.

“I’ve handled it before, though.”

“And you shouldn’t have. Trust me, this town, the government, they’ve got a shit storm coming and I’m leading it,” his dad huffed.

A knock interrupted Steve’s response, the door opening slightly before they answered.

Eddie.

“Steve? You okay?”

Steve’s parents looked at the door, then back at Steve, who was doing his best to hide the fond smile on his face.

It wasn’t working though, not when he saw the way Eddie was trying to take inventory of his injuries from across the room.

“You can come in, Eds.”

“Who’s this, honey?” Anne asked.

“This is Eddie.”

“Oh! You poor thing. I heard all about what you’ve been through. Let me just say, if we had caught wind of it earlier and knew you were Steve’s friend, we would’ve been representing you in court,” Anne rushed to say, her hands fluttering over Eddie’s when he got next to the bed.

Eddie’s wide eyes would have been amusing if Steve didn’t worry that he might run for the hills at the care his parents showed.

“Uh. Thank you?”

“Do you need anything right now? Do your parents need anything?” Richard asked, sitting forward in his chair, business face on.

“Um, just me and my uncle, but no. I’m heading home, but wanted to check on Steve before I go.”

“Of course! You guys are close friends?”

It was an innocent question. His parents just liked to know who was in his life, that’s all. But Eddie looked at him with panic written all over his face.

Steve gave him a small smile, then turned to his parents.

“Actually, he’s my boyfriend.”

They were quiet for a moment, which Steve expected. No matter how well he thought they’d take it, he knew it would be a shock.

But his parents didn’t let him down.

“How long have you been together, Steve?”

“Since March. Four months?” He watched as Eddie started to back away, probably expecting the worst.

Anne smacked Steve’s arm, forgetting for a moment that he was in the hospital for a reason.

“Sorry,” she said before crossing her arms. “You’ve had a boyfriend for four months and didn’t tell us? We could have come back and arranged dinner to meet him. I’m so sorry our son is rude, Eddie. He wasn’t raised that way, I assure you.”

Eddie’s jaw dropped.

“Um. What’s happening right now?”

“We’ll be home for a while to make sure Steve is alright. We’d love to have you over for dinner soon. With your uncle if you’d like,” Richard added as Eddie just stared between them.

“What do you like? I just got a new cookbook that has so many European dishes I want to try. Are you a fan of Polish food? You know what, no, what about Greek? We haven’t had good Greek food in so long.”

Steve was laughing, he couldn’t help it.

“Steve, what the hell is going on here?”

“Eddie, that’s my mom, Anne, and my dad, Richard. They’re kind of the best, and apparently they want you and Wayne to come for dinner. Think you can find time in your schedule?”

“Uh.”

“Oh dear. Do you have a concussion? They should monitor you kids better,” Anne worried, moving her hands up to cup his cheeks and look in his eyes. “Should I get a nurse?”

“No, mom, he’s okay. He just expected you two to freak out.”

“About what?”

“The fact he’s a man.”

“Oh! I do suppose that’s a reasonable concern.”

“Eddie, let me ask you this: do you make Steve happy?” Richard asked.

“I think so.”

“And he makes you happy?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then it sounds like we have no reason to be upset. Now, dinner? Maybe tomorrow night?”

“Okay.”

Steve laughed loudly.

“Eds, come here,” Steve gestured for him to come closer.

Eddie moved next to the bed, his arm bandaged, and a new cut with stitches in it on his forehead.

“Closer.”

Eddie leaned in.

Steve leaned up and kissed his lips. Just a quick peck, just enough to get the point across that this was really okay and really happening.

“Tomorrow at 6?” Steve asked before he pulled away completely.

Eddie nodded.

“And please bring your uncle, we need to discuss our plan for a lawsuit on behalf of all of you,” Richard spoke up from his chair.

“Oh. Yes, sir.” Eddie pulled away from the bed, nervously playing with his rings.

“Richard is fine, son.”

Eddie was blushing, which Steve was absolutely going to make fun of him for later.

“See you tomorrow, then?” Eddie asked awkwardly.

“Love you, Eds.”

“Oh. Uh. Yep. Love you too, Stevie.”

He raced out of the room, leaving Steve and Anne laughing quietly.

“Poor boy. Didn’t know what to do, did he?”

“No, I think he isn’t used to a positive reaction when people find out about him.”

“His uncle knows about you two, though, right?”

“Yeah, Wayne’s been great.”

“Good. Well, I’m going to find a nurse so we can go home. You should be comfortable in your own bed.”

“And I am going to make a quick call to my buddy in Chicago to see if he can pull some information on this Owens guy. We have a lot of work to do.”

Steve was used to this. For some kids, maybe this wasn’t good parenting. Maybe his parents being gone for a lot of his life had a negative impact.

But Steve never doubted how much they loved him. They still came home for every birthday, every Christmas. They still managed to take a family vacation every year. They gave him everything he needed and most of what he wanted. They supported him through everything, the proof right here in front of him now.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #the party #steve harrington has good parents for once!!!#and they're about to fuck shit up!!!#ficlet #request

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skyward-floored · 2 days

Text

The Lost Woods aren’t so bad.

Not after traversing them more times then Link can count, at least. Sure the paths shift, and monsters occasionally slip their way inside to hide in the bushes and trees, but Link knows the way to the clearing where he needs to go.

The forest only needs to let him.

His boots cut through soft grass, an occasional crunch belaying a leaf. The song of the woods is on the wind, and Link follows its winding tune, the pipes of water, strings and drums of leaves and branches. Quiet giggles make his ears twitch, but Link knows to ignore them.

He plays the game of the Woods, walking its paths, watching poes with a careful eye to see where they lead. The song dances by, high and low, loud and soft, and the flute that sometimes joins it makes his heart ache.

Time stretches strangely under the canopy of trees and fog— Link feels like he’s been here for hours now, but the glimpses of sunshine that peek through the branches are no different from how it was when he arrived. Link passes through another clearing, doubt beginning to nip at his heels. They’re not called the Lost Woods for no reason after all, and he’s starting to wonder if he hasn’t passed their test this time.

Is it because of what I’ve done since last I’ve been here?

But then something in the air, in him, clicks, eases, Link doesn’t know the word. But it’s like a fog lifts from his vision, and the path he needs to take is suddenly obvious. Link follows the pull past flowers and stones, over a barely-there path. It guides him through the yawning mouth of a log, and birds softly chirp as he emerges into a familiar clearing.

Fog drifts past his boots as he looks around, and a single shaft of sunlight breaks past the trees, drawing his vision to sparkling blue.

Link exhales, and steps forward, squirrels and other small creatures darting away into the bushes. He steps up onto the small stone platform, and doesn’t move for a long moment, looking at where the Master Sword sits with wisps of fog and sunlight dancing around her. Waiting for him.

“Hey old girl,” Link says softly, and for some reason his throat aches as he rests a hand on her hilt. “Been a while.”

The metal under his skin is both hot and cold, warmed by the sun’s light, and cooled by the stone it rests in. Despite years exposed to the elements, the Master Sword isn’t covered in greenery like it was the first time Link found her. Nor is her shine diminished in the slightest. Her blade is dimmed only because she rests, her power waiting for the next hero who needs her.

Who just happens to be Link again.

A shaking sigh escapes him, and Link puts both of his hands around her hilt, the electrifying hot-and-cold sharp-and-soft thrill of her power zipping through him as he pulls.

The Master Sword slips loose just like it did when he pulled her the first time, and Link raises her to the sky, the fog parting and fading away. The sunlight brightens somehow, making her sparkle and glow, and Link’s throat tightens again.

He hadn’t realized until now how badly he’d missed her.

Link lowers the blade again, running a hand over her cool steel as he studies her, looking over her finer points to familiarize himself with the weapon once again. Something is different, he realizes after a minute or two. And when it finally dawns on him what it is, he holds the Master Sword tighter, almost hugging her.

“I’ve grown,” he says quietly.

The blade fits his size now.

Instead of the still-pudgy hands of a child grasping at her hilt, there’s the worn hands of an adventurer ghosting along the metal, scars catching in her grooves. There’s blood staining his hands now that wasn’t there before, yet she still allowed him to pull her.

“You fit better, now,” he continues, voice shaking a little. “Hopefully this’ll... make things easier.”

His breath hitches, and Link swallows it back, clasping the sacred blade in his arms like one would an old friend.

He squeezes his eyes closed.

“I guess I thought I wouldn’t be doing this again,” Link whispers, ghosting his fingers along the gem in her hilt. “Not... not after the last one.”

Not after what I did.

The metal seems to warm just a hair, like the sunshine got pulled into it, and Link rests his head against the Master Sword, allowing a single drop of saltwater to trail down his cheek.

“Thanks,” he croaks, and the softest, faintest of chimes echoes in his heart.

It’s enough to pull him from the grief that was threatening to swallow him up again, and Link sets aside the weight of an island, and focuses instead on the weight of the sword, and his kingdom.

He’s needed. He can’t get lost in grief.

Link breathes out, running his hand along the steel one more time, and then he gently sheathes her, stepping down from the platform.

“Here we go again old girl,” he says as he steps outside of the clearing, weary with grief, but determined to stop the evil returning yet again.

He closes his eyes.

“One more time.”

A single pure note chimes in his chest, and Link feels something other than grief wrap itself around him, urging him forward to take another step, to press on despite the weight.

It feels a little bit like hope.

#had sudden intense feelings about Legend and the Master Sword #and if he was dumped into albw events very shortly after koholint (a mean headcanon I have)#cranked this out in under two hours last night when I couldn’t sleep #bon appetit #linkeduniverse #linked universe #lu legend #linked universe legend #linked universe fic #lu fic #a link between worlds #but specifically pre lu #writing from the floor #if this feels like a vent fic no it doesn’t shhhh

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warletscarlet · 6 months

Text

Wild Kratts Headcanons

genuinely have no clue if this fandom is dead or not but I’ve fallen down a rabbit hole and it isn’t stopping. So anyway here we go! All of my hc’s are strictly platonic, Krattcest shippers back away rn 🤺. This is the 2D characters and not referring to the actual people! I know the characters are basically them but this is specifically for the cartoon. they’re all headcanons I either liked or had myself.

-Being as close as they are, Martin and Chris are very physically affectionate with one another (and with the Tortuga crew at times, but mostly the bros). They’re always giving each other hugs or leaning on the others shoulder, or Chris just straight up climbs onto Martin’s back/shoulders.

-With their friends, the boys are always giving them hugs, small shoulder touches, things like that. It’s their natural way of interacting with the people they care about.

-The Kratts have been found sleeping in trees various times (mainly Chris). At this point nobody questions it though they do get worried about him falling out and getting hurt.

-The Kratt Bros are also sometimes found sleeping in the same hammock, whether it’s in the Tortuga or hung up on a tree branch. They usually do this when the other has a nightmare or after partially tough missions (I.E:Flight of The Pollinators, Platypus Cafe, plus other episodes but these are the ones I heard about most and I haven’t gotten to watching too much of the show again yet). Touch is their love language and sometimes they need this to remind themselves the other is okay.

-Chris climbs basically everything. He loves climbing and if you took him to a rock wall climbing gym he’d have a field day. You can find him in the oddest places on the Tortuga.

-Aviva isn’t the most touchy person but will give hugs out of gratitude/happiness.

-The brothers share a single braincell. That is all.

-Jimmy has a very close relationship to his grandmother and was raised by her; which is why he knows all of her recipes.

-Aviva is like a mom friend. Not in the sense she’s motherly but in the sense she has to babysit two hyperactive brothers who are constantly running around/getting in trouble and breaking things.

-Martin can carry Chris no problem (on his back, shoulders or bridal style), but Chris cannot carry Martin on his back/shoulders for long. Though he can hold him bridal style (as we have seen.)

-The bros are huge nerds. If you ask them about animals they will talk for HOURS about them.

-Koki is downright fabulous and can rock anything. Don’t @ me.

-Martin has ADHD and Chris has autism. Martin fidgets, gets distracted easily, and can act impulsively (though reels Chris in when Chris is the one being impulsive). He tends to run off during creature adventures. He has combined presentation ADHD and Martin also has a tendency to forget to charge his creature pod.

-As for Chris, he has autism. He doesn’t recognize social cues and corrects people when he thinks they’re wrong about something, and doesn’t realize when they’re annoyed with him for it. He also can be pretty blunt. And he has to keep things organized, such as how he organized all of his creature disks and hates them being moved out of place.

-Chris, out of everyone, cusses the most. He doesn’t around the Wild Kratt Kids but he will when with the crew/his brother. He has definitely called Zach a motherf*cker and Aviva and Martin found it hilarious.

-The Tortuga Gang have frequent movie nights, but they will never watch a movie where an animal dies with the brothers. They WILL cry.

-After the Tazzy Incident, Chris still has some Tazzy traits. Mostly just sharper canines but also more sensitive senses. He can’t hear, smell and see are well as he could when in tazzy form but it’s definitely increased from normal. His eyes also do that thing cat eyes do when they’re in the dark and the light hits them. Has 100% given Martin heart attacks and absolutely has used it to mess with Zach.

#wild kratts #headcanon #chris kratt #martin kratt #aviva corcovado #koki wild kratts #jimmy z #found family #platonic relationships

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that-bwitch · 12 days

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london boy

am I in my lover era? probably, but am I ashamed? no, not really. but just a warning, I won't even try to commit to posting this often. literally just a burst of inspiration (and taylor swift).

london boy by taylor swift as inspiration sirius x muggle!reader warning: prolly nothing, it's just fluff wc: 2,2k

From your very childhood up to your late teens your parents really liked bringing you to London with them from time to time. It was a truly beautiful city to be a tourist in. You’d been there so often that you felt like some sort of an expert. You could recite the history of any major landmark, just point at, say, the Tower, and one could hear a whole lecture from you about the fortress, the prison, the ravens, all the good stuff. You got cocky at times, thinking you could easily become a tour guide. Your friends back in your hometown rolled their eyes every time you even mentioned London, and the level of your excitement grew every single day throughout the month before you finally moved there.

Turned out, London wasn’t so great to live in. At least that’s what you thought on your first day, when you paid thrice the price you expected to pay for the cab taking you from the airport to the hotel. Then, the hunt for a rental began. The hotel started to get expensive day by day and soon enough you really lost your spirits. You didn’t have enough money to pay for a room and a real estate agent, so you resorted to looking through tons and tons of newspapers, hoping that an advertisement of a one-bedroom would at some point catch your eye. It wasn’t working as well as you expected, so one gloomy rainy afternoon you found yourself just walking through a random neighbourhood looking at houses and thinking that cooking some hot soup on your own stove sounded really nice at the moment. You realized that your exterior was pretty miserable for someone who couldn’t hold in an excited shriek right after buying a ticket to London last month. As if to confirm your assumptions, a sudden laughter disrupted the cacophony of raindrops hitting the ground and wind howling between the branches of nearby trees.

Oh, god.

“You aren’t from ‘round here, right?”

A motorcycle rolled from behind you along the roadway. You continued on your way, thinking it was just some creep who noticed your vulnerable state and decided to, well, be a creep.

“Hey, hey, ma’am, you don’t have an umbrella and I do. Pretty sure I win.”

“Ma’am? Really?”

You stopped at last to see who had the audacity to just ride up to you like you were their longtime friend.

“Bet that’s what you think us Brits talk like, foreign girl.”

The rider took off his helmet and you saw what was probably the best sight you had a pleasure to witness in the entirety of London. The young man was truly divine: his dark hair barely reached his shoulders and was a bit messy from the helmet; he had a stubble that was too short to be called a beard yet, but it was getting there; when he smiled, you could see small dimples forming on his cheeks. You felt stupid staring at him like that but couldn’t help it at all. With his stunning looks, the obvious accent you immediately took notice of sounded even more charming.

“Alright, not a talker, I see.”

The man stood up from his vehicle, pulled out a kickstand so that it wouldn’t just roll down the street and walked up to you, pulling up the collar of his leather jacket to shield his face from the rain.

“You said you had an umbrella.”

Kind of stupid of you to say, but you couldn’t really make up anything else that wouldn’t give out your infatuation.

“Just like that, huh? Could at least ask my name, you know.”

He didn’t wait for your response, holding his hand out to you.

“Sirius.”

You shook his hand, although yours was already pretty numb from the cold, and introduced yourself as well. You had to say something at that point because you started to look weirder and weirder by the second.

“That’s… an interesting name.”

Oh, come on. This is all you have?

“Bit rude, darling. What did you think it was?”

“Like… Matthew?”

The man laughed, just like you heard him laughing minutes ago. He wasn’t taunting you, no, on the contrary – he was rather amused by your mild naivety.

“Oh shit, do I look like a Matthew? I’m gutted, I have to say.”

You couldn’t help chuckling at his words. The rain didn’t feel so bad anymore, now that you had someone to share it with.

“Hop on. I have to get you to a pub, or else you’ll turn into a bloody icicle.”

He helped you get on his bike and soon you were riding straight through the streets of London with your hands wrapped around Sirius’ body. You felt it was a wee bit inappropriate for someone you met, like, five minutes ago, but you couldn’t say you didn’t like it. What is more, you expected raindrops to become some small annoying mosquitoes who would relentlessly bite your face during the ride but surprisingly, it didn’t happen. It almost felt like you actually had an invisible umbrella above you, because you glanced at a sleeve of your coat and it had become much drier than it was before.

The pub Sirius took you to looked like one of those places you saw on TV when the setting was supposed to be the UK. Lots of wooden furniture around, lightbulbs hanging from the ceiling and emitting warm and rather dim light. In the corner you saw an old record player with a small TV on top of it. You saw it as a symbol of modernity overtaking the old school, which epitomized London itself, but decided not to voice your thoughts in order not to appear as a nerd.

“Fancy a beer?” Sirius asked, leading you to a large counter.

In your mind you would much prefer some tea to warm yourself up, but the stranger was already too kind for you to make any extra demands of him. So, you just nodded and let him have free reign over the type of beer for you.

“We come here with my mates sometimes,” Sirius explained, having made an order while you made yourself comfortable on a bar stool.

“That’s nice.” You felt a bit awkward and out of place, but Sirius didn’t seem like the shady type, so you felt more comfortable with him than you would have likely felt with anyone else. “Do you watch rugby here?” You gestured towards the TV.

“I mean, if it’s on…” Sirius tried but failed to hide a chuckle. “That’s what the rest of the world thinks of us English lads, huh? That we hang at pubs and watch rugby all day?”

“To be fair, you took me to a pub.” You felt slightly embarrassed but attempted not to show it.

“That much’s true.”

You took a small sip out of a glass mug of beer placed in front of you. It wasn’t that bad, to be honest – a bit too bitter for your personal taste, but you could see yourself finishing the whole thing.

“Is this a British thing, beer in the afternoon?” you asked, looking at a huge grandfather clock behind the bar and remembering that it was, in fact, only midday.

“I guess, but I’ve always thought of it as a me thing.”

You held your mug in front of your face so that Sirius wouldn’t notice a huge smile forming on your face. You found everything about him irresistibly attractive – his voice, his mannerisms, his whole presence was alluring in a very authentic kind of way. It was obvious that in front of you he wasn’t pretending, he was just being himself.

“How did you know I wasn’t from here?” You finally had the courage to ask the question that had been pestering you for a while.

“Oh, it’s obvious,” Sirius replied, taking a swig of his beer. “You can always tell, it’s just how us Londoners are wired.”

You couldn’t really retort.

“Are you on holiday, or…?” Sirius went silent, letting you fill in the gap.

“I moved here a week ago,” you explained, feeling a very annoyed expression taking over your face. “Been trying to find an apartment but no luck so far.”

Sirius frowned a bit, thinking about something.

“I reckon I could help you, darling,” he finally told you with a playful smirk on his face. “I’d have to ask you for something in return though.”

“Oh, sure, I’ll pay!”

And you were ready to, because you had heard from someone that word of mouth was actually the best way to find an apartment on a budget these days. It’s just that you didn’t have this mouth before.

Sirius just grinned in response.

“Hey, that’s on me.”

He stopped your hand as it was reaching into your purse to take out your wallet and pay for your beer.

“Really?”

“Well, I dragged you here, so it’s only fair.”

Afterwards you stepped out of the pub to see daylight again. Fortunately, you discovered that it stopped raining and the sky was of a much lighter gray than before. Sirius caught up to you and stretched out his arm, wrapping it around your shoulder. You didn’t mind at all but were still quite stunned because, well, a teenager in you woke up and started internally screaming from this handsome stranger’s closeness.

“A nice weather we have here, darling. Which is super convenient as I don’t prefer driving drunk.”

Sirius looked like someone who would gladly drive drunk, you thought, but instead simply asked about the bike.

“A friend will take it,” he gave you a rather nonchalant reply, already headed somewhere to your left, with your hand now in his. “Come on, London doesn’t wait.”

“What if I have plans?” you tried to retort but your feet still carried you after Sirius and you weren’t going to stop them.

“Really? You just moved here, can’t find a flat and you have plans? Don’t believe it.” Sirius didn’t leave any room for objections as he was absolutely right. “Come o-o-on, darling, I know you want it.”

And for god’s sake, you did.

—

“So… Is this the part of the day when we say goodbye?”

All of a sudden you felt a wave of sadness coming over you. This day turned out to be truly magical and the last thing you wished for was for it to end. Sirius showed you everything, and you meant everything. He had his ways around the city that you would never even think to take, but they worked wonders, almost like some kind of portals transporting you from one place to another (but of course, it was just Sirius). Soon you could take pride in having explored pretty much all the central boroughs from inside and out. You, once again, had a very tourist-y experience of eating fish and chips in Hyde Park, and Sirius showed you an amazing little Chinese place where you promptly had dinner. You couldn’t have been thankful enough when he told you he would take it upon himself to look for an apartment – sorry, a flat – for you, but when you tried to give him some cash, he adamantly refused, so you were left wondering what he meant when he said he would ask for something in return. But most of all, you couldn’t really understand why he would do anything for you at all.

“I guess it is…” you mumbled, wishing with your whole heart you were wrong. But it was late, the sun hid behind the horizon hours ago and your eyes became increasingly more and more itchy.

“Well, we’re meeting tomorrow, so… Not so bad, huh?”

Sirius didn’t seem tired in the slightest, so you decided to just fire away and ask the question that had been swirling in your mind for the whole day.

“Why are you doing all this?”

“What do you mean?” Sirius raised his eyebrow and, judging by the look on his face, thought you were making a joke.

“I mean, you saw me on the street and just… took me under your wing, I guess. I wouldn’t have all this experience without you, London boy. And this apartment thing… It’s too generous. You don’t have to.”

“I know I don’t have to.” Sirius had the widest smile on his face. It was captivating and you didn’t even notice how you started smiling yourself. “But I want to, that’s it, darling. I really, really want to.”

His hands kept yours warm while he spoke. You had a sudden urge to do something you might or might not have regretted in the future. You stepped closer to Sirius, getting up on your toes and pecking his cheek ever so slightly, as if you were afraid to scare him away. Then you leaned away, staring at his face with worry in your eyes. Sirius slowly ran his fingers along his skin, where your lips just were, like he couldn’t believe what happened. Then, much to your surprise, he got closer and before you could realize it, your lips met his. They were a bit chapped, but the pleasure they brought you couldn’t have possibly belonged on planet Earth.

“I fancy you, foreign girl.”

Sirius pulled back and looked deep into your eyes. His gaze was so tender that you understood that from now on, London wouldn’t be such a bad place to live.

#sirius black x reader #sirius black x fem!reader #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x you #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black imagine #the marauders #the marauders era

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eddiemunsons80sbaby · 1 year

Text

X Girlfriend

Pairing: RockStarEddieMunsonxReader

Request: This one is more fluff.

So i had one in mind where the reader and eddie have been together since high school and hes a famous rockstar now and they have a high school reunion and his ex gf is there and shes constantly bashing the reader about how eddie will leave her now hes famous and that he will never marry her and saying she isnt a type of model to be with him (shes a model the reader) and she believes it and is distant on eddie and he notices and he confronts her and assures her he loves her and when he has a concert the ex is there too and steve robin and nancy and the kids who are older are there too and after the show eddie confronts the ex and later he proposes to the reader at the concert?

You couldn’t believe you were back here, Hawkins High. How had it been ten years since you’d walked these halls? Ten years since Eddie had knocked his chair over as he leapt up, announcing to the entire class that he’d gotten a C on Ms. O’Donnel’s final. Ten years since you’d sat around the cafeteria table listening to the boys dissect their latest campaign. Ten years since you and Eddie had sat on the picnic table in the woods, sharing a joint between classes.

Every pair of eyes turned to look at the two of you as you entered the gym, Eddie’s hand in yours. Yeah, they all looked in awe now at the two people they called freaks and losers back in high school. Eddie was all over their MTV, Corroded Coffin’s music videos on a constant loop. You were on the cover of their favorite magazines that they picked up while they were doing their Sunday grocery shopping. Yeah, let them all look at the kids they’d pegged as losers, now successful and on top of the world.

“Hey! Guys!” You glanced over to see your long-time best friend, Robin, waving at you from a group of former band geeks.

“Robin!” you shrieked, dragging Eddie behind you as you ran to her, releasing his hand to pull her into a hug. The two of you still talked every single week but with your crazy schedule, you didn’t get nearly enough Robin time these days. You were looking forward to the long weekend with your friends you missed so much.

“Jesus, it’s so good to get my hands on you!” shrieked Robin and then her eyes went wide, mouth forming a perfect ‘o’ as she realized what she’d just said.

“Sorry blondie, that’s my job,” Eddie teased with a deep chuckle.

“Shit, you know what I meant.” Robin waved her hands at him. “I am so excited for tomorrow night! I can’t believe you guys are actually doing a concert here! We’re all coming. Steve, Nancy, Jonathan, Dustin, Mike, Lucas, Max, El…we’re all going to be there!”

“Seriously?” asked Eddie, his smile a mile wide. “It will be so great to see everyone again.”

“Of course. Do you really think we’d miss it?”

A roar rose up from the left of you and you all turned to see the former Hellfire gang, hands in the air, bellowing at Eddie. He laughed, shaking his head.

“Hey princess, I am going to go say hi. You okay?”

“Of course,” you told him, waving him away. “Go. Have fun.”

“Yeah, no worries rockstar, I’ve got her,” Robin assured, wrapping her arm around your shoulders.

“Alright, I’ll be back in a bit, k?” He leaned down, pressing his lips to yours. “Love you.”

“Love you too. Go. Reunite with your nerds.”

Eddie grinned, making his way over to his bandmates and fellow club members. You sat down with Robin, the two of you catching up on life. Robin lived in Indianapolis now, working at an art museum, living with her long-time girlfriend Vickie. Nancy and Jonathan lived there too, the two of them married for four years, both of them journalists. Steve had stayed in Hawkins, but he now owned the Family Video, having worked his way up and then buying the Hawkins branch when the former owner retired.

“Well, well, well, look what the cat dragged in.”

You internally groaned, rolling your eyes, sharing a look of disgust with Robin. You knew that voice. It was Eddie’s ex, the one he’d broken up with for you in the middle of junior year. Shawna was a total bitch. She’d worked hard to make your life miserable, convinced you stole Eddie from her. The truth was, he’d never loved her, and he quickly realized it when he found out you had feelings for him.

It had been a constant bone of contention between the two of you the rest of junior year. Shawna had left nasty notes in your locker. She’d started rumors about you, saying you slept with half the guys in Hellfire and that was why Eddie was with you, because you’d give it up when she wouldn’t. She said you stuffed your bra to make guys more into you. She said slept with your Science teacher to get an ‘A’ in the class. It was awful. Her constant pettiness and jealousy had almost split the two of you up.

On top of that, she wouldn’t leave Eddie alone. You’d go to meet him by his locker after class and she would be there, leaning into him, batting her eyes. You’d make your way over to the Hellfire table at lunch and she’d be in your seat, her hand on Eddie’s arm. You’d finally exploded at him one day and told him if he still wanted her, he could go have her and leave you the hell alone. He’d assured you he didn’t want her, he’d never really wanted her, that you were all he wanted. You’d never been so relieved as when graduation day finally came and you could put Shawna in your rearview mirror. Now, here she was again.

“Shawna, what an unpleasant surprise,” Robin exclaimed, sarcasm dripping off of every word.

“Buckley, how is your dyke lifestyle treating you?” she sneered.

“Much better than your breeder lifestyle, based on the fact that your marriage lasted all of what? Eight months from what I heard?” Robin shot back. “How sad for you.”

“At least I got married,” Shawna snapped, her eyes moving down to your left hand. “I don’t notice a ring on your finger. Eddie must not want to buy the cow when she so readily gives up all the milk for free. How many milkshakes do you think he’s enjoying these days? There must be an endless string of groupies just throwing themselves at him.”

Your eyes narrowed, “There are, actually. In case you haven’t noticed, my boyfriend is pretty damn sexy but he always comes home to me. He’s never dropped me because a better option came along.”

“Maybe he comes home to you, but you have no idea what he’s doing out on the road,” Shawna taunted. “All those long, lonely nights, you know his right hand isn’t enough company. And with your modeling career, you can’t be around all the time, can you? Don’t you think if he really thought you were the one, that he would have proposed already? There must be a reason he’s not committing.” She paused, giving you a mocking smile. “How sad for you. Well, you ladies have fun. I’m going to go say hi to some old friends.”

“Jesus, she is such a bitch,” Robin muttered, shaking her head. When you didn’t respond, she turned to you, placing her hand on your forearm. “Hey, you’re not believe anything she just said, are you?”

You glanced over at her, shaking your head, “No. Obviously not. What the hell does she know, right?”

But hadn’t you asked yourself that same question? You and Eddie had been dating for over eleven years and he still hadn’t asked. Why? Did he not see a future with the two of you? Wasn’t eleven years long enough to know? You were coming up on thirty. Eddie had just turned thirty a couple months ago. You wanted a family. He said he did too but he kept finding one more reason to put it off. Was the reason because he wasn’t planning on spending forever with you?

You went through the motions the rest of the evening, smiling and laughing in all the right places, pretending it was great to see all these people that didn’t give two shits about you in high school so why should you care about them now. You drank a little more than you probably should have but it blurred all the harsh thoughts in your head.

“Whoa there, pretty girl,” Eddie laughed, an arm around your waist to keep you steady as he used the key to unlock the room door. You were staying at the one decent hotel that Hawkins had.

He led you into the room, helping you over to the bed. You dropped down, staring at the wall, all those fears and insecurities forcing their way to the front of your mind. If you hadn’t had those shots of tequila with the cheerleaders, you might have pushed them all down, never said anything, convinced yourself to let it go. But you did have those shots and those thoughts came spilling out.

“Why don’t you wanna marry me?” you asked.

Eddie stilled, his hand on his boot that he had been removing and looked up at you, brow furrowed, “What babe?”

“Why don’t you wanna marry me? What’s wrong with me? Am I not wife material?”

“Whoa. What are you talking about?”

“We’ve been together for eleven fucking years Eddie!” you exclaimed, rising from the bed, tossing your arms erratically in the air. “You tell me you want a family. You tell me you want everything I want but you don’t. At least, not with me. Are you fucking groupies? I’m not always with you. You’re all alone on the tour bus. Do you get lonely and fuck groupies? Is that why you don’t wanna marry me? So you can keep sticking your dick all over the place?”

“Hey!” he bellowed, lurching to his feet. “What the hell are you saying? I have never fucked a groupie, princess. I have never cheated on you. I never would. How in the hell could you say that?”

“Then why won’t you marry me!?” you demanded.

“Baby, we’ve talked about this,” Eddie stated. “It wasn’t the right time. We both had our careers and life has been crazy.”

“Bullshit! That’s all bullshit! You’re just finding excuses!”

“And you’re drunk,” he spat. “Shit!” Eddie groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Look, I am not doing this with you right now. You’re drunk and you need to sleep it the hell off. You’re not thinking straight.”

“Don’t tell me how I’m thinking!”

“Jesus Christ,” muttered Eddie, throwing you over his shoulder as you yelled and whacked his back with your fists. “Knock it off!” He tossed you on the bed, pulling back the comforter and throwing it over you. “Sleep it off and we’ll talk about this in the morning when you’re fucking sober. I am not arguing with a drunk mess.”

“I hate you!”

“Yeah, and I love you, even when you are being a nasty drunk,” he huffed, grabbing his pillow and going over to the couch.

_______________________________________________________

“So, you haven’t even talked to him about it today?” asked Robin the next night.

You were standing at the bar at The Hideout, waiting for the show to begin. It truly was a homecoming, bringing to the forefront so many memories of Tuesday nights watching the guys before they got big. The line was wrapped around the block waiting to come in. All of Hawkins had come out to see their hometown freaks turned rockstars.

“No. He was gone by the time my hungover ass rolled out of bed,” you grumbled, sipping on your water, avoiding alcohol at all costs after the embarrassing display you put on last night. “He had an interview with the local paper and they wanted to do a photoshoot with him at the high school. There was no time. But Jesus, I made such an ass of myself. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s done with me.”

“Eddie done with you?” asked Steve, shaking his head. “Never. That guy is in way too deep. I am sure everything will be fine. The two of you just need to have an honest talk.”

“Yeah, besides, this is only because Shawna is a giant bitch,” added Nancy. “She got in your head. It could have happened to anybody.”

“But she’s wrong,” Robin reminded her. “Eddie loves you. There’s no way he’s sleeping around on you.” She paused, catching sight of something out the window, frowning. “Damn. I forgot my phone in my car. I am going to go get it. I’ll be back in a minute.”

“That wasn’t her phone sticking out of her back pocket?” asked Dustin, pointing.

Your brows furrowed, watching Robin head out the door, wondering what she was doing. Had she forgotten she had her phone? Shrugging, you turned back to your friends, listening as Mike began filling everyone in on his new job and the house he and El were looking at buying. The sound of shouting interrupted your conversation and all of your head turned.

“What the fuck, Shawna!? Are you that goddamn miserable? You’re so unhappy you have to try to make sure I am too? Are you that desperate that you’re still obsessed with me and her after all these goddamn years!? You’re pathetic!”

“Oh shit,” you mumbled, heart racing as you realized that was Eddie’s voice you were hearing.

“So, I am guessing it wasn’t her phone that Robin went out there for,” said Jonathan, eyes wide.

“Yeah, I am thinking she filled Eddie in on that conversation with Shawna last night,” Nancy agreed, cringing slightly. “I mean, not that the bitch doesn’t deserve it.”

You raced for the door, flinging it open to see Eddie towering over Shawna, his face contorted in anger. Shawna stepped into him, pressing her finger into his chest, not backing down.

“You expect me to believe that you’re not sleeping around?” Shawna demanded. “Come on. Isn’t that what you do? You drop one girl once a better option comes along?”

“Are you fucking insane?” he demanded. “I dropped you for her because I love her! We dated for all of two months, the worst fucking two months of my life. I’ve been with her for eleven goddamn years! It’s not even close to the same!”

Your eyes met Robin’s, flashing in irritation, letting her know how pissed you were that she’d gone behind your back and told Eddie. She offered you an embarrassed smile, shrugging her shoulders slightly. You ran to Eddie, grabbing his arm, trying to put an end to this pointless argument that wasn’t going to get anyone anywhere.

“You believed her!?” he yelled, looking down at you with so much hurt in his eyes. “You actually believed I would mess around on you? After eleven years together, you really think that about me?”

“Eddie, no, I…”

He yanked his arm from you, turning and heading down the side of the bar to the back. You glared at Shawna who was giving you a self-satisfied smirk before chasing after him, panicked that you had ruined everything. You came around the corner to find him leaning against the building, a cigarette in his hand.

“Eddie…” you began, inhaling deeply. “Fuck. Look, I’m sorry, okay? I shouldn’t have let her get into my head but it’s hard not to when you keep finding reasons we should wait to get married. You’re right. We have been together for a long time, but then why do you keep putting it off if you think I’m the one?”

“You are the one!” he yelled. “Sweetheart, you’re the only one. You’re the only thing in my life that makes any sense half the time. I only put it off because our careers were just starting and then we were so damn busy. It just didn’t seem like the right time. It never had anything to do with you and it sure as hell wasn’t because I was banging groupies behind your back. I can’t believe you’d think that!”

“If we keep putting it off because of our lives, we’ll always put it off,” you argued. “Eddie, I’m sorry I listened to her.”

“You should be! It’s Shawna, for fuck’s sake! You know she’s vindictive. She’ll say anything to get under your skin. How do you not know that?”

“I do. I just…I don’t know. I…”

“Hey Eddie, we gotta get ready to get on stage,” Gareth called from the alley door.

“Shit,” he muttered. “Look, I love you. You’re the only girl I want. Please tell me you know that.”

“Yeah,” you answered quietly. “I do. I love you too.”

Eddie grabbed your chin, kissing you, “Just…we’ll talk more later, okay? Just promise me you’ll be right in front of that stage like always?”

“Of course.”

“Good. I’ll be looking for that face, pretty girl.”

He headed in the door behind Gareth, leaving you in the alley alone. You wanted to believe him. You wanted to with all your heart because he was all you’d ever wanted but he still hadn’t given you a solid answer. You tried to push down the doubt, heading back around the building to take up your spot in front of the stage, cheering on your boyfriend. Yeah, you tried not to sigh at that word. That word that had been haunting you for years.

___________________________________________________________

“They’re amazing!” Nancy screamed over the roar of the pounding beats.

“Most metal ever!” Dustin chimed in, jumping up and down with excitement.

Eyes moving through the crowd, you couldn’t help but smile at the massive turnout. Corroded Coffin had come so far, from five drunks on a random Tuesday to selling out stadiums around the world. This was the homecoming those boys deserved, everyone cheering them on instead of whispering insults behind their backs. Oh, how their views had changed when they were seeing the evidence of raw talent right in front of them.

Eddie had been on top of his game all right, flying around the stage, energy high, belting the vocals, shredding the guitar. He was covered in a fine sheen of sweat, his skin glistening under the fluorescent lighting. That mane of dark waves was untamed and wild, pieces sticking to his face in various places. As they wrapped up their final song, Eddie stepped to the front of the stage, dropping down to sit on the edge right in front of you.

“Hawkins, what an epic fucking night!” he yelled into the mic causing a rousing chorus of cheers to rise up through the bar. He grinned at you and you couldn’t help return it, caught up in the excitement of it all. “Thank you so much for giving us the best damn welcome home anyone could ask for. You know, a lot of you know us from back in the day. Some of you went to high school with us. So, a lot of you are aware that I have been with this beautiful girl standing right in front of me for a very long time.”

Your eyes went wide, darting around to your friends who were all wearing identical smiles on their faces. You looked back at Eddie, wondering where he was going with this. You knew things had been a bit tense between you two before the show, but he didn’t have to do some grand apology. You just wanted the chance to talk, just the two of you, without alcohol involved.

“She’s stood by my side through everything. She was the first true Corroded Coffin fan. She believed we could make it before we did. She’s never stopped being our biggest fan. You’re all probably wondering what the hell a girl like this is doing with me? Well, you’re not alone. I wonder that too, every damn day. I am the luckiest bastard ever that she’s chosen me. She is the most important person in my life and the only person I want for the rest of my life. I’ve made her wait a long time for this…too long, probably…”

Eddie hopped down from the stage to stand in front of you, reaching into the pocket of his jeans. Your breath caught, hand flying to cover your mouth, as he dropped to one knee, opening the box to reveal a beautiful princess cut diamond in a platinum setting. He looked up at you, eyes warm, full of love and affection, full of everything you’d stupidly let yourself doubt.

“Princess, I hope I haven’t waited too long. I wanted to do this tonight, back home, with all of our friends around. Will you marry me?”

Tears spilled down your cheeks, “Yes! Fuck yes!”

Eddie laughed, leaping off the floor to pull you into his arms, pressing his lips to yours. Your fingers moved through his sweaty hair, not caring, completely lost in this moment as your friends lost their minds around you, screaming and jumping up and down.

“Did you really have this planned already?” you asked quietly.

“I did, princess,” he replied with a smirk. “I told you. It’s always been you. If you could have just waited about one more day…”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Nah, don’t be,” Eddie assured, lips pressing to your forehead, his arm hooked around your neck. “I was the asshole who kept putting it off. I just wanted everything to be perfect.”

“It is,” you said, taking his face in your hands. “Everything with you is perfect.”

#eddie munson #eddie the banished #stranger things eddie #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x reader #rockstar eddie munson x you #rockstar eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x you #eddie munson rockstar #eddie munson rockstar au

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distortionbobble · 3 months

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i miss Eddie Brock!!! and as always I am. ofc. thinking abt chase kink with him n venom. is this anything? is anyone listening to me

more below the cut but as always minors dni. chase kink, monsterfucking (if you’re reading for Eddie/ venom I assume you know what you’re getting into), claiming, consensual.. hunting?? idk

you know eddie. he’s the love of your life!! which means you know every single one of his moods. and lately, he’s been .. off. it’s not that he and venom haven’t been hunting, but even venom seems to be put off by the taste of the two-dime nasties out there.

they’re bored.

you think it’s kinda cute; venom, especially, has been acting like a puppy with not enough enrichment, tearing up the furniture in his boredom, seeking an outlet to all that energy. eddie, conversely, has been a little too quiet. where he’d usually respond enthusiastically he now meets your spontaneous trivia questions with a rather downtrodden “i dunno.” oh, your poor baby boys, you just wanna make it better.

so you formulate a plan.

a romantic getaway; camping (not that you’ve ever found camping all that romantic, but he seems to like it enough) in a forest, full of redwoods, with no one around for miles.

you could be scared. hell, if your boyfriend was anyone other than eddie there’s not even the slightest chance that you’d do all this. but he needs this. him and venom.

you keep your plan a secret as best as you can— you hike around in the daytime, nothing too strenuous, but you can’t make it seem too obvious that you’re saving up your energy. as the sun sets, before you’re headed to bed, you sit by eddie’s side, gazing up at the stars and making up your own constellations.

and eddie looks so beautiful next to you; kissing your forehead gently as you snuggle into the soft fabric of his hoodies. he always runs warm, cos of venom, but it works just fine for you. he’s like your own personal space heater. “i love you,” he says, but he sounds tired. he always sounds tired. he feels impatient and shifty— you’re guessing that’s venom acting up— but you convince him to go to bed.

once his breathing slows down is when you take your cue to go; you pull out the slip of paper you’d written up beforehand, come find me scrawled in black looping ink on the paper. you feel a little silly as you slip into your running shoes, tying your hair up, doing your fucking stretches but you gotta commit to the bit, if you will. you know the second you start running it’ll wake Eddie up so you take your time , tiptoeing out of the campsite and into the trees. you’re worried your heart is thumping loud enough to wake him up, but thankfully he’s still inside the tent as you create more distance between him and yourself.

okay, think, make this chase worth it. an apex predator is hunting you down, can use the trees, see better than you, is stronger than you, has a natural camouflage, and you’re starting to realize that maybe this wasn’t such a good idea when Eddie opens up the flap to the tent and calls out your name into the night air.

that’s your cue to run.

you’re so sure you sound so loud to him, panting, sticks crushing under your feet as you run as fast as you can. your heart feels like it’s gonna burst from your chest but you’ve got to keep going—you can hear him in the trees, using the branches to launch himself closer to you. you smear your sweaty palms on the trees— hey, it worked in twilight, didn’t it? and keep running, hoping that the scent will provide at least a little distraction.

your body teeters on the line of perceiving your adrenaline as fear versus excitement, tunnel vision forcing your legs to go go go until you can’t anymore, stopping by a tree as you look around in the dim moonlit forest to see if you can hear him, see him, but all you can hear is the blood roaring in your ears.

you take a step back— he’s gotta be here somewhere — when you realize that your back isn’t rested against the tree. no, it’s too smooth for that. you look up to see venom grinning above you, limbs reaching out to pull you in close to him.

“found you, pretty girl.”

#chase kink #my writing #distortionbobble's fics #eddie brock x reader #eddie brock #eddie brock chase kink #venom chase kink #venom x reader #venom Drabble #Eddie Brock Drabble

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callmelyc · 5 months

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Just gonna start cross posting every single bit of Twitter nonsense soooo

Lance joining Keith on blade missions post war and calling him "Captain" in the most flirty tone. He does this during meetings and such just to make Keith blush or stutter in his words.

The first time lance does this it catches Keith so far off guard his reaction isn't at all subtle.

"Excuse me, Captain~" Lance all but purrs the title in that lovely lilting tone of his and Keith damn near chokes on his own spit right in front of a room of BOM personel.

He clears his throat best he can trying to gather himself- because what the fuck- "y...yes Lance?"

"What if we went in teams of two? That way at least two people could tackle that northern section there."

Keith turns to look at the map, fluster momentarily forgotten, and sees Lance is right it would make more sense.

So plans are changed with unanimous agreement and things move on.

The flirtatious captain is forgotten until it happens again, this time in the halls.

Keith is talking to a commander for one of the resistance outpost when he feels a presence slide into his side so smooth and efficiently he nearly ignores it.

He knows it's lance, it always was, and he's more surprised by the fact Lance stays so silent.

It's not until the Commander, a man named Zyre, starts to comment on lack of trust that Lance speaks up before Keith can even get a word.

"Excuse me Commander but I can assure you Captain Kogane has it all under control" he says it with a charming smile that seems to ease all of Zyres worries.

Keith never knows how he managed it with such ease and simplicity, to calm someone's worries as if it's his living purpose.

He watches as the two talk, ending with a light laugh and a kind goodbye.

As the commander leaves Lance turns to look at him, blue eyes sparkling like the ocean "what's wrong Captain?" And there it is again that flirtatious sing song of his title that makes Keith gulp. A tanned hand smoothly slides up Keiths arm making his mouth run dry "cat got your tongue?"

Keith fights the flaming blush rising up his cheeks, he turns to rush away in place of a reply knowing it was far more incriminating thid way.

If he hears Lances twinkling laughter as he turns the corner Keith makes nothing of it.

The third time is, unfortunately for Keith, during a joint BOM and Atlas meeting.

Griffin was arguing the benefit of using some of his crew alongside one of the other branches of the resistance and it was draining Keith's patience to no end.

Sure they get along now, somewhat, but that didn't mean he found James particularly pleasant to listen to.

He drones on and on about the efficiency and things he'd already covered in his pitch but despite a good amount of the room being a tad annoyed no one seemed willing to stop him...yet

That's when Keith sees It, the look™ on Lances face and he knows oh God does he know.

Lance smiles when he notices he's caught Keiths eye and tosses him a knowing wink.

Keith fights everything in him not to groan as Lance shifts to cut Griffin off without even looking at the guy. Those blue eyes zeroing in on Keith from across the room with terrifying accuracy and focus.

"Captain Kogane" he says oh so sweetly it shuts everyone up in an instant. Lance even bats his lashes for extra effect because his new favorite thing to do is apparently publicly torture Keith.

"I-" Keith starts far too distracted to even notice the way some have started giggling at his demise. Too far gone for this boy that his loss for words is so heavy for something so small.

"You had a contact in that Sector didn't you? Why not utilize them?"

It's not until after the meeting that Keith realizes others have taken notice to Lances....well, whatever it is he's doing.

Keith tries to ignore the look, the whispers, the focus. He really does. But then Shiro has that shit eating grin on his face as he walks up next to him and Keith would rather be literally anywhere else.

"So Captain Kogane huh?" Shiro asks smugly.

Keith glares at him "shut it grandpa, he's just being respectful."

That makes shiro snort "yeah sure respectful is definitely the word for that."

Keith reserved to say nothing as they walked to the cafeteria and did his best to ignore every giggle and whisper thrown as he passes.

If he thought that was bad he wasn't ready for the way people mockingly called him Captain at lunch. They'd say it with that same flirty lit and over the top gestures that made his skin crawl. Its not in a mean way, he knows. It's more in the they were clearly mocking Lances tone kind of way and Keith found that unacceptable.

It irked him to no end. If they were gonna poke fun at him fine! But don't bring lance into it.

So Keith did the only rational thing left. He left the cafeteria.

He tracked down Lance because even if he was the cause of the teasing Lance was still far better company than anyone else on this god forsaken ship.

He found him in the ships artificial courtyard humming to himself as he played with the vines.

He sits next to Lance enjoying the simplicity of the moment since they usually don't get much time like this and returns the smile Lance throws his way. It's comforting when they're together like this. Just the two of them with no prying eyes or mission discussions.

"What brings you here Samurai? I would've thought you'd eat lunch with Shiro."

Keith huffs a bit "with everyone jokingly calling me Captain I'd rather sit somewhere relaxing."

Lance frowns "do...do you not like being called Captain?"

Keith looks at lance dumfounded, he's unable to reply before lance continues "should I stop?"

"NO!"

The two look at eachother wide eyed for a moment.

A beat pases.

Two.

Lances surprise fades into a small smirk, a dangerous understanding filling his eyes "oh so you do like it when I call you Captain?"

"I- well..." He stutters trying to fight the rising heat on his ears. Keith wouldn't dare admit it out loud he can't. He can't give lance a weapon like this, his heart wouldn't survive.

But despite the lack of voicing his agreement Lance picks up on it anyways. Those sharp eyes always on target, lazer focused, and amused much to Keiths dismay.

Lance chuckles standing to leave "well, I'll see you around then Captain~"

And Keith has never wanted to smack himself more for being such an oblivious idiot.

#voltron #lance vld #vld #vld lance #lance mcclain #keith kogane #klance #keith x lance #keith voltron #lance notices what saying keoths title does for him and uses it as a way to drop hints #he's like “hey maybe if I get flirtier with it wach time he'll catch my drift”#everyone but keith has caught Lances drift

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