#not particularly perfect to me but he's just really special to me in this perfect way that i love it as it is | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bangaveragewhitewine · 2 months

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the boy is mine (amy's edition)

Written as part of @carolmunson ‘s the boy is mine writing exercise which is such a fun and gorgeous idea!

wc: 1,800

contents: love-sick best friends turned lovers, set in 1985 (there's an angstier version of this in my drafts...), allusions to sex (nothing explicit), Eddie's boner mention, kissing until your lips hurt

notes: Well, I’d love to lie and say that this was a breeze, but writing has been incredibly difficult for me lately. Fighting with myself comes easier than writing these days, but this is a really fabulous idea. Feeling ✨part of something✨ is really special (and a little daunting). Thank you, Carol 🩷

the scene: a romantic night-in at the trailer.

the guidelines: prompt, props and dialogue are all here

April 1985

You watch silver smoke curl and melt into the air as the cigarette burns between Eddie’s lips. The scent of it cuts through the lingering fug of weed and sex and sweat. His hands are busy with pen and paper, jotting lyric ideas into his little notebook.

It feels a little bit romantic that he is so inspired after fucking you.

Your chilly feet rub together beneath the covers. It’s hard to resist the urge to stick them between his shins but you don’t want to ruin his artistic flow by shocking him with your arctic toes.

Fade to Black plays from the boombox on his messy dresser. Eddie had wound the tape back to restart the almost seven-minute track after the first listen-through and grinned unapologetically when you rolled your eyes at him. His head bobs to the beat as he scribbles and you shift your attention to a particularly perfect curl lying across his shoulder, the dark black ink pressed into his skin.

If your camera were closer, you would snap a picture of him. But for now, you store the image of him away in your mind. In twenty, thirty, forty years, you will remember tonight and smile. There’s a whole life ahead of you to plan with him, and you’re pretty sure Eddie wants in on it too.

“Your Mama never told you it’s rude to stare, princess?” he asks, rereading what he had just spilled onto the page. He clicks the pen three times before folding the notebook closed. His wave of inspiration has peaked and you are, once again, his sole focus.

“Maybe. Probably.” You shrug one shoulder before taking the cigarette from between his lips.

The way your lips hug the filter makes Eddie’s body thrum to life all over again. When you lean across him to tap off the ash, he takes his chance to pull you against his chest and lock you into his lap, closer than close. The cigarette is left to burn out as you trade smokey, wet kisses back and forth between smiling lips until you are both laughing at nothing, at everything. At that little whiney noise lodged in the back of Eddie’s throat, and the way he taps the opening bars of Trapped Under Ice against your bare body.

That throaty, dirty laugh makes you feel warm all over. His cheeks are rosy-warm and cherubic when he smiles at you. You want to nibble them but settle on gentle kisses instead. His eyelids and forehead are next, then his nose, before you work your way back to his lips. It’s a tender moment after those almost unstoppable giggles, rib-aching and eye-watering laughter that comes easy when you’re with Eddie - more free-flowing when you’re still a little bit faded.

“Want the rest of that pizza?” Eddie asks after a few moments. His mouth has been busy kissing your neck and shoulder, and the way his breath catches on damp patches makes you shiver.

A few more smiling kisses are traded before you vacate the cocoon of body-warm blankets together to don discarded sweaters and underwear. Eddie glues himself to your back in a penguin shuffle to the kitchenette to raid the forgotten pizza box and the stash of munchie-friendly snacks stowed away in the cupboard.

The formica feels cool against the back of your thighs as you chew thoughtfully on the cooled-off slice. There are empty cans of High Life on the table between the melted candles; Eddie’s romantic ideas of tea lights and the champagne of beers had set the butterflies in your stomach swirling when you stepped into the trailer that evening. The VHS cases and TV remote are lost between the couch cushions and throw pillows, cast aside before you could even decide what to watch in favour of making out hot and heavy.

Eddie holds up two soup-recipe mugs. “I ran out of like, nice cups, this okay?" he asks.

The unwashed everyday mugs are abandoned in the sink and Eddie’s own Garfield mug is a quarter full of flat soda on his dresser. You know better than to suggest one of the collectables perched high on the shelves and hooks in the living room, and Eddie does too. Wayne is still irked about the cracked commemorative Moon Landing mug. It’s been glued together and sits safely on a higher-up shelf since thirteen-year-old Eddie had wanted to impress you, his new friend, with hot cocoa.

You look back at the bowl-cups, and wonder if anyone ever used the recipe on the front. “They are nice. I’ve always wanted to drink not-soup out of these. Feels illegal.”

Everyone always said he would be a bad influence on you, drag you down. They never saw that soft side to Eddie Munson, but you did. Using soup bowls as cups is far from ritual sacrifice and grand theft auto.

When he looks at you, perched on the counter in his hoodie and no pants, eating cold pizza, he feels like he might be looking at an angel. Your post-sex hair is your messy halo.

He comes to stand between your thighs and you feed him a bite before pushing his bangs back to kiss his forehead simply because you want you. Because you can now. Now that the pretence of being just friends has finally (finally) been dropped. Everything about your night together - now that you are together - is pretty similar to how it’s always been. Pizza and laughing until your ribs hurt, smoking enough to make you loose-limbed and ravenous. You spend less time looking at his lips and fingers and wondering what they feel like; you know now, and get to sample any time.

He steals one more bite before popping the lid on a can of Betty Crocker vanilla frosting from the cupboard. It has been a solid fixture of your garbage-food fixes since you and Eddie were fourteen and fifteen and home alone with a stack of horror movies to watch; Betty and two spoons, maybe some peanut butter or salty chips for balance. Now there is always a can in the cupboard, in your house and in the trailer, for when the cravings hit. When you move to Indy together after graduation, it’s top of your grocery list.

Eddie feeds you the first spoon, hovering it in front of your lips so you will come and take it. He feels a little like a pervert when he watches you eat it, lips around the cold metal and your eyes closed. You know exactly what you’re doing, doling out a little payback for Eddie getting distracted with his lyrics and set-lists while you were cuddling.

“Did anyone ever tell you it’s rude to stare?” you ask, tongue thick and coated with sweet vanilla.

“Just appreciating the art, sweet thing,” he fires back, winking at you before taking a bite of frosting. His brows pull in like he’s pondering something. “Mm. Wonder if there’s a Mr Crocker…”

You shove his head as he cackles that goblin-laugh of his and you try not to smirk at the same joke he’s been telling for years.

“You want an older model, Munson? Karen Wheeler’s been looking pretty dolled up lately…” You take the spoon, tapping it against your lip as Eddie pulls a face.

“Oh yeah, MILFs of Hawkins, come get me.” Eddie rolls his eyes before sliding his fingers up your bare legs to find the soft curve of your waist. “Only girl for me is riiight here, baby. You’re all the woman I need.”

He’s pressed up close with his chin resting against your chest, gazing at you like you hung the moon.

“Better tell O’Donnell that. I think she has a crush, s’why she keeps giving you detention.”

“You’re a fuckin’ sicko.” Eddie’s reverence shifts into a scowl as he rests against your chest, but softens again when your fingers slide into his hair, coaxing him to relax and melt against you.

“And you like that?” you ask.

“I do.”

Eddie can feel the sped-up thud of your heart beneath his ear, matching the beat of his own. A peaceful moment settles over the kitchen.

Until a tendril of mischief unfurls inside you. Imitating that nasally, cringe-inducing voice of O’Donnell blended with something a little breathy, you whisper in his ear, “Edward Munson. I want to see you after class. You’ve been a very bad boy…”

He steps back from you, hands over his ears so he can’t hear any more of your teasing. It’s cold without him all wrapped up and pressed against you.

“Divorce. Divorcing you. Get out.”

Your cheeks ache, like when you’ve had a lollipop lodged there for a little too long. It’s sweet and cloying like the joy you take from riling him up like this. “Aw, don’t be like that!”

“Too late. I’m taking the house and the kids.”

“That’s not even…” you cut yourself off, laughing too hard, and Eddie can’t even hide his own smile; he can’t buy into his own dramatics when you sit glowing on his kitchen counter, damp-eyed from laughing so hard (even if it is at his expense).

“M’sorry, sorry. Don’t divorce me.” You pout and open your arms out, grabby hands poking from the too-long sleeves until he slopes back between your legs and folds against you. Your mind wanders briefly to a future where you’re Mrs Munson; it sounds nice.

As stubborn as he can be, Eddie thaws after a few sweet kisses cut with quiet little murmurs of ‘forgive meee’. You feed him another spoon of icing as a sign of peace, sweetening him up just a little more before licking what’s left off of the tip and edge.

You feel his hands squeezing tighter on your hips, bringing your attention back to Eddie and away from the frosting.

“Hm?”

“If you don't stop, we're gonna have a problem.” He sees your confused expression and taps the spoon. “I’m gettin’ jealous. Of a spoon.”

You can feel the problem, warm and thick against your leg. It does not feel like much of a problem, and you both can think of a few tried and tested solutions to make it all better - a few more to be explored are jotted on a page of another small notebook tucked away in Eddie’s drawer.

“Is it a problem? Really?” you ask, head tilted with the metal tap-tapping against your lips before you go in for another indulgent scoop.

“Okay, I’m cutting you off.”

The spoon is snatched and thrown, and it clangs against the mugs in the sink as Eddie takes your hands and hauls you down from the counter. You taste vanilla on his tongue, sharing the sweetness with you as you stumble blindly back to his room.

thank you for reading🩷reblogs, likes and comments are welcome and cherished!

Don't forget to check out the rest of the fics from the challenge!!

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x yn #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff #bangaveragefics

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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 3 months

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The Host | Yandere Zoldyck Family

“I’m so happy, we were able to locate the portal so quickly! Now you all can return to your world without breaking the space-time continuum!” You mused, happily sipping on the piping hot tea in front of you.

Whether you liked it or not, you wouldn’t have refused this cup. After all, it was specially crafted for and given to you by the reclusive Zoldycks. It was an honor—more like a miracle that you were being served an un-poisoned cup of tea.

You were used to prickly (read as: murderous) anomalies that were ejected into the aimless void of time. As per your occupation you housed and befriended said anomalies until it was time that they returned to their dimensions.

When you were selected at the end of your life for this position, the galactic overlords in charge assured you that this was a duty perfect for you. That no matter what, your tenants would find themselves comforted by you during their time there.

You begged to disagree even though none of your tenants had successfully ended your life yet. You prepared yourself for the day they one day would.

“Yes, it will be a shame to lose contact with a host as pleasant as you.”

Zeno smiled, closing his eyes as brought his own cup to his mouth. Letting a hand fall over your heart you silently thanked him. Another hand reached for you tearing your attention away from the former head.

“It is a shame your work keeps you so busy!” Kikyo cried, holding your hand. Gingerly running the pads of her fingers over your knuckles.

“Ah, but I feel as though I haven’t worked a day.”

“Oh, so you’re saying you like this job of yours?” The old man raised his brow.

“Of course! When I’m not hosting I’m free to do what I please and the guests that come by always make things interesting.”

Memories of the various visitors came to mind as you smiled; Kikyo puckered her lip in a pout. Her clutch on your hand had gotten slightly tighter, nothing alarming but noticeable.

“But don’t you feel overworked? Tired? Lonely?”

“There’s always the other people in the town.”

“Really? I wouldn’t have expected them to have any intelligible conversation.”

You dismissed the slight towards your community, it’d be impossible for her to realize their worth within the year. Granted they weren’t particularly strong or inquisitive; it wasn’t like they were built to be outstanding anyway. Nonetheless, they were kind to you and always understanding when it came to the guests. Not once have you needed to send a complaint to upper management. Everyone played their prescribed roles without fail.

“They can be really pleasant, once you get to know them.”

Zeno sighed, “So you say but I can’t imagine you not caring for them. You're always so forgiving.”

“Well…they have their flaws.”

“Ah! You’re too humble (Y/n)! The least they can do is honor your contribution to their pathetic lives!”

“Thank you, Mrs. Zoldyck but a cake every once in a while is good enough for me.”

“Ah! So simple (Y/n), it screams you no nothing of luxury!”

“Really I feel as though I’ve almost been overwhelmed with it with the Zoldycks here.”

“Please! If you could see the Zoldyck Estate in our world, you’d truly know luxury!”

You let her continue, chatting with her and Zeno, who occasionally chimed in. It was time to enjoy their company for they’d be gone before you knew it.

____________________________________

“Ne (Y/n)! Alluka wants to hold onto your jacket for a bit is that alright?”

“Oh? I barely noticed I left it behind but sure.”

You continued to walk side by side with Killua making your way to your destination. The wind was cold. Wisping at your cheeks and nose as you mesmerized yourself with the smoky puff your breath made. Catching cat-like blue eyes watching you with amusement you stopped, replacing it with an embarrassed smile.

He snickered. “What? Don’t stop on my account.”

“Oh Killua you're the only kid that makes me feel like a silly child again.”

“Eh?! You make it sound like I’m the reason you’re just childish anyway.”

You playfully hummed. “Hm. Maybe I am.”

You shared a laugh before letting your eyes begin to wander. Looking past the trees of the park to admire the clouded sky blending into the freezing lake. Despite having walked this path millions of times before, it never failed to take your breath away. Making you sigh in awe, you minded the frozen droplets hanging off the naked branches; looking as though they were a part of some artist’s canvas.

Even the rosiness that danced at your cheeks brought by your body’s attempt to warm you in the frigid season, felt magical in its own right. It was easy to lose sight of your path as your feet remember the way; allowing you to drift.

But before you could go too far the warmth of another hand-a smaller hand in your pocket brought you back. Looking down in surprise at the blushing owner looking away from you. You chuckled intertwining his smaller, rougher hand with yours as you walked with a pep in your step.

“I-I’m just keeping my hand warm. Where I’m from it never gets this cold.”

You smirked. “Sure!”

You didn’t believe him and he knew that. But that wasn’t the point anyway.

“You two seem to be getting along well.”

The monotone voice stopped the both of you in your tracks. Standing in a slim-fitted insulating jacket was the eldest of the Zoldyck children. Standing precisely on the crack in the sidewalk he demanded you meet at. You didn’t miss the annoyed click of Killua’s teeth. Or the blank foreboding stare directed at a specific pocket of yours.

“Yup, Killua offered to walk me to our meetup spot. If you’re alright with it, I wouldn’t mind if he came with us.”

Illumi robotically tilted his head, his eyes still trained on the same spot it had been focused on since he started watching you.

“I doubt Kil would find any enjoyment in where we’re going.”

Killua's eye twitched. “Oh? Where are you going?”

“Somewhere for adults, I’m sure you’d find it boring.”

“Really try me,”

The two intensely held each other’s gaze, vaguely conveying that this may need your intervention. With a well-timed sneeze, you might have saved yourself and the whole park from their ‘playful’ exchange of blows. Illumi seemed to back down first stepping closer to your unoccupied side where he waited for his brother to leave.

Said brother didn’t look all too convinced. Squeezing his hand in yours brought his attention to you, already smiling in silent reassurance.

“Hey, take care of my sweater for me ‘kay.”

The silent message was heard as Killua, who begrudgingly released your hand from his hold. With a final glare towards his brother, he’d begun to leave, watching as you turned and waved to him as he went. He also watched as his brother slipped his hand into your opposite pocket. With a final click of his tongue, he moved at speeds practically impossible for the human eye back to the apartment you’d organized for him and Alluka.

Making your way wordlessly out of the park, finally stopping within the toasty insides of a ceramics shop. With the unmolded clay in front of you and the guide having finished their instruction, you finally giggled at Illumi.

“I’d hardly call ceramics an adults-only event.”

Illumi didn’t laugh, he didn’t even look up from the shape he was focused on molding.

“I would. He isn’t a part of this so it isn’t bizarre for it to be considered an adult event.”

You decided to keep quiet about the toddler two tables down. Instead, you poked your head over the assassin’s shoulder to see what he was making. Glad you hadn’t started working on your own creation, you pulled back the raven locks that were spilling dangerously close to his work in progress.

Missing the slight stutter of his fingertips as he registered the soft, gentle hold of your fingertips he continued. Opting to focus solely on his creation with more intensely.

“I’m so glad I brought a hair tie for this exact moment.”

“...if you don’t hurry up your clay will dry and your money will go to waste.”

“Ah. So money conscious.”

Finished with a nice low ponytail, you scooched back into your seat; prepared to begin your own creation. Sparing a glance at Illumi, you expected he’d be laser-focused on his work but instead he was staring at you unapologetically. While you found this wasn’t uncommon for him it didn’t change the fact that it was still odd.

“So uh what are you making?”

“Why do you want to know?”

“I’m just asking, are you worried I’ll make fun?”

“My finished product will be more than enough to answer you, right?

“I guess so.”

You had an inkling of worry that he’d create something graphic and horrific. But you had to remind yourself: he wasn’t Milluki. Who unapologetically, on multiple accounts, scarred surprised you with animal entrails, graphic posters, and concerning digital art that bore striking resemblance to you.

Speaking of striking resemblance…you had a glorious idea.

____________________________________________________

“So…what is it?”

You hated to ask but you had to. The ceramic resembled the bare requirements of a face colored by a paint color akin to your skin tone. Somehow when you turned your head to the left side you saw a screaming face but when you turned your head to the right it looked as though it was smiling.

“....”

He just stared at you blankly (as he usually did) but you could tell there was something unfamiliar. He turned his head away from you as he reached for his creation back.

“If you can’t tell than it shouldn’t matter.”

“Don’t be embarrassed, I’m sorry!”

You held the…thing in your hands with care as you bore witness to the rare sight of an embarrassed Illumi.

“Even if I don’t know what it is I think it’s beautiful in its own right.”

“Don’t lie its unbecoming of you.”

“I’m not lying!”

You let him snatch it from your hand and tuck it in his pocket. Smiling to yourself, you found comfort in that he didn’t immediately toss it into the trashcan by the doorway. Catching up with his quick pace you held you’re wrapped creation to your chest.

“I would like to continue on now.”

“Don’t just sweep it under the rug! It’s all about growth.”

_____________________________________________

“Here you are Kalluto!”

He was doing what you had suggested: finding his own style. Alas, he still found himself taking the most buried articles of clothing from your closet and posing in the mirror. If you had noticed you didn’t say much, when you let yourself into the room he’d been given.

“I made it just for you.”

The vase had a pink hue, with speckles of purple. He liked it but he was curious why he was gifted this.

“I based it off the color of your eyes. I saw the shade being offered and I thought it’d be a perfect souvenir for you.”

His cheeks were overtaken by a hot crimson as he gingerly accepted the small vase. He loved it! Holding it close to his chest he almost missed the presence of his eldest brother outside his room. Judging by the slim-fitted jacket, his hat, and his pointed stare at the gift itself told Kalluto everything he needed to know. So that was his decision, for his day out with you? The ceramics shop?

The image of you crafting something while smiling along with him. Hands touching one another while you both crafted something beautiful. Your attention solely focused on him.

He’s so jealous.

“Thank you. It looks beautiful.”

“ I’m so happy you like it! I was worried I wouldn’t get the color right but looking at you now I see I’m right on the mark.”

Kalluto’s cheeks never changed from heir red color, causing him to tuck his head into the collar of the shirt he stole from you borrowed. Sending a cautious look at the figure in the doorway he took a gamble. He put the vase down, quickly moving to nestle his head into your stomach almost immediately having your arms wrap around him. He didn’t bother locking eyes with the observer, instead pretending to be fully enveloped by your attention.

If he did have a problem, Kalluto could argue that his time with you was limited. Therefore nothing was off the table. Not when their access to you would be gone forever. He’d rather it not be that way.

__________________________________________________

“Silva.”

The call of his wife had the current head of the Zoldyck family, wordlessly asking what she needed. Nonetheless, he responded in kind.

“Kikyo.”

The two of them were seated a ways apart from one another each sipping on their respective drinks as the candles slowly burned.

“We need to talk about (Y/n).”

“What is there to talk about?”

He knew what she wanted to talk about. Those of any authority within the Zoldyck family already had a gray consensus about their host. All that was needed was definite words, so that they could be a united front on the subject.

“On the topic of (Y/n) coming with us.”

Silva crossed his arms.

“We cannot.”

“Why not? All of us like them! They show promise in maintaining the family, they’ve even convinced Kil to come home more often!”

He wanted to grit his teeth but he didn’t. Only brought his cup to his mouth for a pensive sip.

“No, they’d never survive training. Let alone our world in general.”

He maintained his composure as he parroted Zeno’s consultation. Even as his wife slammed her own cup on the tray and opened her mouth to protest. He knew she’d ask because he had asked.

“Mr. Silva. Is it okay if I call you that or would you rather it be Mr. Zoldyck?”

It amazed him that such a meek, small, weak host would have made him even consider bringing you along with them when they returned. Their host couldn’t be farther from them brimming with compassion and mindfulness that brought out a side the family had long since fought against.

It shouldn’t have enamored them as it had. But it did. Leaving everyone in the family vying for their attention. With them the family’s prowess in killing meant nothing and it didn’t do any favors in garnering positive response.

But it was for that exact reason Zeno mused that they’d never fit in the Zoldyck family. Even if they chose the route of marrying you into the family it would diminish your time with the everyone. Favoring the one they’d marry over all others. It’d be so unfair

“Husband, this opportunity to attain a sliver of another world would benefit the Zoldyck family! Even more so as a tenant or as a servant under all our care! It wouldn’t impede the family’s strength and their rules to serve would make them an asset to explore.”

“And have them reach a butler’s strength alone. At their level?”

Kikyo hung her head covering her visor with her hands as she resisted the urge to weep. Silva refused to look at her, focusing intensely on the still liquid in his cup. The pain in this revelation was mutual.

“Mr. Silva, did you go to aquariums when you were younger?”

“For missions.”

“What about on your own?”

“What would be the purpose of that?”

“I don’t know, to see the animals. To learn about them.”

“What use would learning about these animals do? If there is no time that I’ll be within their biome it would do nothing for me to retain this information.”

“Isn’t it nice to just be in awe though? To just fathom loosely about the world we barely have begun to discover?”

The image of their excited face illuminated by the tank was the moment Silva’s first felt that emotion. It reminded him of meeting Kikyo, of having his heir, of establishing a budding lineage. He learned that feeling was better not left ignored for it could very well determine the safety of the ones he felt it for.

He’s seen it in his children, in all his children, so he could only see what he could control spiraling for the others. He could only think about the repercussions for when they returned home. There’d be no way to cull it easily; with you being literal dimensions apart.

Kikyo’s sulking stopped abruptly her hands folding to sit on her lap.

“Perhaps there is a way to bring them without breaking the rules.”

Blue eyes look at her expectantly.

“The Zoldyck’s have not encountered anyone worthy enough to consider adoption.”

“Adoption?”

“Yes, the process hasn’t been used within the family before…if it were to be implemented–” There was something hopeful within her voice and a twitch of a smile on Silva’s lip.

“Then the rules that qualify the one adopted would be entirely up to the head of the family.”

Silva attempted to resist the smile that spread across his face, as he leaned back onto his hand. How apparent would it be that their host had such an impact on them since they left the mansion? But even so, this was proof that they should have their host after all.

“I’ll have to check with Zeno…but perhaps it might be a veritable solution.”

____________________________________________

You were glad you spent the night before sobbing your heart out. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be able to smile through the Zoldyck’s goodbyes. Granted none of them, except for Kalluto and Alluka, were even close to shedding a single tear. Nonetheless, you hugged them all trying to calm yourself.

The otherworldly energy spewing from the portal never made you nervous before and yet your hair was standing on end. Your tolerance for fearful situations had decreased significantly as you got to know the Zoldyck family but it never completely went away. You weren’t an idiot.

They were a family of assassins.

It’s foolish not to expect threats on your life at every other turn. But this had an effect on you on a deeper level than that. This was more unsettling.

Was it the amount of place-holding spirits killed during their stay? Or the physical planet of this dimension lurching as it coughed up one of the most murderous families to stay here? Or was there something wrong with the integrity of the dimension itself?

You were tethered to the realm and it was tethered to you. For the most part, it only means you have a loose idea of what’s to come with the weather or an effect on a guest’s actions. But in times of dire situations, you’ve had the world reach out to you. At this point, you were already looking for a sign.

But that wasn’t your main focus not when the younger ones were keeping you occupied. Hanging on your arms were Alluka and Killua; the latter was playfully mirroring the former.

“Aw (Y/n)! We’ll miss you so much!”

“Yeah! We’ll miss you soooo much!”

“Ah Killua at least you could pretend to be serious about this.”

Spying Kalluto a ways off clutching the vase you had made him you gave him a small smile.

“This relocation didn’t turn out to be a complete waste.”

Milluki spoke up, unabashed as he pulled along a cart of all his anime and gaming memorabilia. You could see the invisible sneers of disgust from majority of the family, Killua didn’t even bother hiding his.

“For once I’d agree,” Illumi chimed sending a bottomless look in your direction. “There were plenty of…unexpected trades to learn in a world devoid of hunters.”

“Thank you?” You shrugged.

Zeno let out a chuckle putting a thoughtful hand on your back.

“I think all of us in the Zoldyck family have learned quite a bit.” You had to fight the tears now.

“For that we thank you.”

The entirety of the Zoldyck family bowed to you, leaving you to fight tears at the demonstration of respect and love they had for an average-dimensional host. Fanning at the water building up in your eyes you bowed and thanked them yourselves.

“You guys! Get over here and give me hugs!”

You made sure to hug every member of the family even if they made unsettling comments as you did Milluki.

Getting the timing perfectly right the portal opened to its full size, the electric blue illuminating everyone’s faces. You could smell the atmosphere of the Kukuroo mountain and the forest upon it. All that was left to do was for them to enter.

“Alright now as stated before time has only been an hour in your world. Now you will be coming down from the sky but I’m sure you all will manage.”

“Thank you for everything (Y/n).”

You bowed your head to the patriarch missing the devious glint in his eyes.

“Of course.”

Starting with Silva they each dove into the portal, leaving you to stand by yourself in the field of sunflowers selected as a gateway. Turning away from the flashing portal you could finally address the world’s message for you. The surrounding grass began to lay down unnaturally, spelling out a word.

“They–”

You bent to down watching as the green blades folded into more words, filling your heart with trepidation as it spelled slowly.

“--will not–”

The blades continued to fold slowly as the sunflower stems frantically sprouted from the ground. Not bothering to wriggle free from the stems wrapping around your wrists, you tried to hurry the world’s spelling. Why did you feel like you needed to rush?

“-let you go–? Wait what the he-”

Before you could finish a translucent, glowing, and golden dragon, like one from Japanese folklore came out of the portal. Wrapping around your entire body it skillfully carried you into the shrinking portal. Only stopping for a short time to wriggle free of the sunflowers that were simultaneously pulling at your limbs.

Now on the other side of the portal, you were being pulled backward. Your front looking at the endless sky watching the portal shrink and close, slicing the desperately reaching sunflowers and their stems.

Something within you seemed to break but before you could dwell on that you finally tried to register what was going on.

“AHHHHH!”

Diving with you in it’s coil the dragon was rocketing in the direction of a mansion. All you could do was hold tight as the dragon slowed to a stop. Gently letting you lie on the floor, taking a moment to ground yourself you barely registered the booming voice.

“Congratulations (Y/n), you’ve been inducted into the Zoldyck Family.”

“W-what?”

“As the adopted of the Zoldyck, you’re duty to the family is to be protected and to participate in the family to the best of your limited abilities.”

“Wait—”

“Per your lack of Zoldyck blood, your title as the adopted is willing to change for the family’s convenience.”

“HOLD ON!” You stood up fully holding your shaking hands out as you began to process what this would mean. Before you can get a word in Kikyo runs up to you, shoving your head into her chest as she rocks your unsteady form.

“Rejoice my (Y/n)! Now for all the care you’ve given us, we get to take care of you!”

“Mother, you’ll smother them.”

“Ah big brother, don’t need to get jealous I’m sure you’ll get your turn.”

“I know that.”

Unable to speak or look too far away, you felt Alluka and Kalluto grab at your pant legs. No doubt they glared at one another as they vied for your attention.

“(Y/n)!” ”(Y/n)!”

Being no help at all Killua wasn’t too far behind, ”Oi don’t hog them all.”

Whether it was the exhaustion of dimensional travel or losing air within your mother Kikyo’s breast. Beginning to lose consciousness you could barely make out the ghost of a smile on Silva’s face. Zeno withheld no courtesy, smiling happily as he turned away.

After all, you were home with them. Where you belonged.

Surely the Zoldyck family could handle the dimensional repercussions of claiming their host.

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milkteabinniechan · 2 months

Note

Since channies photos come all I can think about is his broad smooth back and how beautiful they would look covered in scratches from the night before 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

I absolutely know what you mean and that nylon Japan photoshoot has left me barking and foaming at the mouth tbh. (This went further than I thought, sorry about the length 😭)

smut under the cut

"ah, was I too rough last night, Channie?" You pout. Your eyes scan your boyfriend's perfect back, muscles contracting and release as he lifted himself off the bed.

Light pink scratches adorned his back and neck. Like a paint brush, your nails had wickedly tinted and stained his soft skin. You let your fingers lightly trace the marks you left.

"Honestly, it was really fucking hot." Chan pulled a white t-shirt over his head. You smiled. Both of you reminiscing about the night before.

Chan had come over unexpectedly. He told you he was working late and you'd have to reschedule your date night. A disappointment, sure. But not unusual. You saw how hard he worked when you met him. Unfortunately, last night you were feeling particularly carnal.

You decided you give yourself a special treat to try to sequester the bundle of nerves that was threatening to force you into a humping, grinding mess. You positioned yourself on the bed, laptop and vibrator angled just right. But as you hooked your fingers around your panties and pulled, the sound of your front door click made you freeze.

And there he was. Your boyfriend. Standing in the doorway of your bedroom. He smiled wildly at the sight of you.

"Just couldn't wait, huh?"

#stray kids #skz smut #stray kids smut #chan #chan x reader #anon ask #bang chan smut #chan x you #bang chan stray kids #bang chan imagines #skz smut drabble #skz drabbles #bang chan

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strangersmunsons · 3 months

Text

Eddie, My Love! eddie munson x reader // valentine's day special series Day 5 Prompt: Love Notes 💌 ~ 2,300 words Eddie writes you an anonymous love note. it doesn't go according to plan.

Dear ____

I hope you’re not too weirded out by this. To be perfectly honest with you, it seemed like a really good idea when I saw this pink paper in the art room and swiped it, but now I’m not so sure…

Ah, fuck it. We’ve made it this far, haven’t we? The pen has been put to paper — I might as well nut up and finish the job.

I really like you. I think about you all the time.

You don’t know me, but we had a class together two years ago. And on the first day, when I was still fresh off a jilt by a different girl, you came in and sat down. I didn’t think much of anything at first; you were just another body in the classroom, and I was wallowing in self-pity, nursing my metaphorical wounds. But as the minutes passed, I found myself glancing over at you — at first just once, then again, and then again, and then I was staring, and all I could think was: she’s really beautiful. And then I couldn’t stop looking.

Day after day I’d watch you in class and in the hallways and anywhere else you and I happened to be occupying the same space. I still do. There’s just something about you that keeps drawing me in. You seem so genuinely good and kind, like you would never hurt anybody, not even a guy like me. But I still can’t bring myself to approach you, because I look at you, and then I look at myself, and I feel like I don’t deserve to be loved that way, by someone as perfect as you. I can’t take the leap no matter how badly I want it.

I have dreams about you. I dream about what it would feel like to hold your hand, to put my arms around you, and to feel yours around me. If my subconscious is feeling particularly indulgent, I might get a kiss. But mostly in these dreams we just exist together, which feels like the most unattainable fantasy of them all. They’re the sweetest dreams to have but the worst to wake up from.

I’m not sure why I’m confessing this all to you now. Everyone else is sending each other candy grams and roses; I suppose it means I’m not as immune to this Hallmark-conspired holiday as I thought. If nothing else, I hope this gives you at least an inkling of how wonderful you are, in case you ever had any doubts. You’re a sweet girl. Anybody would be really lucky to be with you. Especially me.

Happy Valentine’s Day.

Deliberately omitting his signature, Eddie sets his pen down and stares at the paper in front of him, rereading the fucking novel he just wrote you.

See, now this is far too much.

Cheeks violently red, he slumps over the table in embarrassment. God, he sounds like such a serial killer! He can’t give this to you, no way. Even if it is anonymous.

…can he?

On one hand, you might find it touching. On the other hand, you might find it both disturbing and grossly predative.

If it’s truly any one thing, it’s honest — Eddie has spent the past two and half years being completely and utterly infatuated with you. He’d call it love, if he’d ever said a single word to you. But instead he’s camped out here in the library during his lunch period, spilling his guts out all over this cotton-candy pink paper, with no intention of revealing his identity.

He sighs, and with nimble fingers, folds the paper into a shape that resembles a heart. Tucking the love note into the pocket of his vest, he wrenches himself away from the table and stalks out of the library. His expression is sour; to the outward observer, he looks mightily pissed off, although what he’s really experiencing is a fierce combination of ambivalence and humiliation towards his own actions. You’d never guess that his heart is thumping wildly against his chest as he speeds through the empty hallways, getting closer and closer to your locker, still uncertain of what he’s going to do when he actually gets there.

But he knows that if he’s going to do something, he needs to do it now, because lunch will be over in mere minutes, and then everyone will start pouring out of the cafeteria.

133…134…135…there it is.

Eddie stares at your locker as though in a trance. He fishes the note from his pocket and simply clutches it in his fist, mind racing.

Can I? Should I? If she’s disgusted she won’t know it’s me. No. No. Maybe I shouldn’t. Bad idea. BAD. Or maybe…I should…

“Whatcha got there, freak?”

A beefy arm shoves him violently from behind, knocking him to the ground. His fingers automatically close around the note, instant panic setting all his nerve endings on fire.

No. Oh God, no.

He quickly tries to haul himself back to his feet, but he’s outnumbered. Two jocks pin him to the ground by his arms, thwarting any desperate punches he might have swung. A third yanks the note from his hand, smoothing out the meticulously-folded paper he’d poured his soul onto.

There’s a roaring in his ears, but it’s not enough to completely drown out the bell ringing in the distance. Then the student voices start floating down the hallway, alerting Eddie to the fact that, not only is he about to suffer greatly at the hands of these meatheads, but he’s unfortunately also going to have an audience when it happens.

The third jock holding the note reads it silently, a slow, evil grin splitting across his face. He starts howling with laughter. “Shit, Munson! I mean, I figured you’d be desperate for pussy, but this? This is a whole new level of pathetic.”

“Give it back!” Eddie snarls, desperately trying to free himself.

The third jock doubles over, cackling, then reads aloud in a nasally, mocking voice, “I have dreams about you…”

One of the goons pinning Eddie down snorts, and loosens his grip. “Hold up, I wanna read it —”

Eddie, sensing his chance, breaks out of their grasp, and makes a move to snatch his note back. Before he can, the third jock crumples it into a ball and tosses it over his head to one of his friends; Eddie makes a wild grab for it, and misses.

High school students start to trickle in, drawn to a fight like flies to honey, crowding at the edges of the scene.

The four boys play a game of Eddie-in-the-middle, the onlookers puzzled but intrigued, watching the mysterious paper whiz back and forth through the air. Growing angrier by the second, fed up with the childish antics, Eddie finally stops trying to catch the note. Instead, he cocks his fist back and lets it smash into the third jock’s nose.

There’s a collective “oooh!” from the mass of students. Eddie and the jock scuffle, both now determined to fuck the other one up as badly as possible. One goon steps in to help his friend, while the other scoops the wadded-up paper off the floor, so he can finally skim the content of Eddie’s heart for himself.

And then suddenly, the most devastating thing of all: the asshole is hollering your name over the din.

For the first time ever, Eddie finds himself hoping that the bully he’s fighting actually kills him. Because death would be better than this.

“Where’s she at? She’s gotta hear this — hey, guess what! The freak is in love with you!”

Eddie wheels around in horror. The other goon grabs him from behind, rendering him motionless again, but it barely registers. The crowd has parted like the Red Sea, everyone stepping aside to make a clear path for you to walk through. You approach nervously, looking completely bewildered as to why you’re being summoned. Eddie wishes that the floor would open up and swallow him whole.

The goon thrusts the paper out to you. “Looks like you’ve got a secret admirer,” he sneers.

“More like a stalker,” the third jock interjects, voice thick from his swollen nose. He steps in front of Eddie and gives him a bloody smile, flexing his hand menacingly. “Hold his face steady for me, would ya?”

“Stop it!” you shriek suddenly, snatching the paper without bothering to look at it. “You’re such assholes!”

“That’s ENOUGH!”

Principal Higgins has finally decided to do his job, it seems. He marches through the crowd — “Get to class, all of you!” — and pulls the two boys apart.

“My office. Now.”

He corrals the four boys down the hallway, towards the office, as the other students scatter about, flushed with excitement. None of them cast a backwards glance at you, head bent, reading the crumpled note with a furrowed brow.

An hour later and Eddie’s finally trudging his way through the parking lot.

He’s been sentenced to three days’ suspension. The guy he clocked made it out with one after-school detention, which he’ll most likely get out of due to basketball obligations, and the other two got off scot-free. Principal Higgins’s reasoning was that Eddie, because he’s the only one who did any ‘real’ damage, should get the worst punishment.

Sure, he threw the hardest punch. But the idea that any of those three are suffering worse than he is right now is downright laughable.

The hot, bitter embarrassment of it all is making his skin itch. There’s a lump in his throat; he can feel the start of angry tears prickling in his eyes. He sucks in a deep breath, trying to calm himself down before he starts driving — the last thing he needs right now is an excuse for one of Hawkins’ finest to pull him over. God knows how much they love doing that.

“Eddie!”

He doesn’t turn around, rage and shame making him want to disappear. He doesn’t want to talk to anyone right now, or ever again, probably.

“Eddie! Wait!”

A light hand caresses his back, then curls around his bicep. He whips around, already on the defensive; you flinch backwards at his aggressive stance.

As soon as he sees that it’s you, all the tension in his body dissipates. His eyes widen and his lips part in shock; his skin becomes dead-white, then bright red in the span of about four seconds.

“I’m sorry,” the words tumble out of his mouth. “For the note — for everything. You weren’t supposed to know it was me.” He stares down at his feet, unable to look at you.

“Did you really mean it? All that stuff you said?”

Eddie shifts his weight from foot to foot uncomfortably. “Well…yeah.” He rubs his clammy forehead with his hand in distress, heart rate spiking again. “I’m sorry, you probably think I’m the biggest fucking creep, I wasn’t even sure if I was going to give it to you —”

“I don’t think you’re a creep.”

Eddie falls silent. His eyes finally flit up to meet yours, and he’s surprised to find that you don’t look…angry. Or repulsed, or even annoyed. Your gaze is soft, the corners of your mouth pulled slightly down in a worried frown. You look concerned.

Is that for him?

“You swear you weren’t playing a joke on me?” you ask.

Eddie starts, taken aback. “Of course not. I wouldn’t do something like that to you, ever. Or anyone else, for that matter.”

You nod slowly, seeming to believe him. You swing your backpack off your shoulder so you can unzip the front pocket, and pull the dreaded love note from inside. Eyes roaming the paper once more, a small smile appears on your lips. “This is the nicest thing anyone’s ever said about me.” Then your expression turns more serious, and there’s a slight tremble in your voice. “And I’m so sorry that those jerks did that to you. That was terrible. But you don’t have to be embarrassed about me reading it. I love the note. Thank you for writing it.”

He can scarcely believe this conversation is happening. He’s thought about you standing in front of him like this for years — imagined what it would be like to have you look at him and really see him, the way you do right now. Now that he’s living it, it’s almost too much for him to handle.

You hesitate, like you’re unsure of what to say next. “Um, to be honest, I didn’t think you even knew who I was.”

“How could I not?” he says dazedly. The notion that he might not know who you are is absurd to him.

You shyly avert your eyes, like you’re overwhelmed by the praise. Pressing on, you tell him, “You did get one thing wrong, though.”

Eddie cocks his head to the side, waiting for you to elaborate.

“I’m not perfect — certainly not too perfect for you to come and talk to, or — or ask out. I think you’re a good guy.”

Is there air left in his lungs? It doesn’t feel like it. “Oh,” he manages faintly. He’s too scared to say anything else, that a single incorrect word will break this spell.

You give him a gentle smile. “So…are you busy right now?”

Eddie hides his shaking hand behind his back, blushing furiously. “No, I’m not busy right now. Actually, um, I’m not even allowed back here for the next three days, so…yeah, I’m — I’m pretty open.”

You nudge his arm playfully. “Do you wanna go do something?”

Even through his leather jacket the contact makes his skin tingle. “Yes!” he practically shouts, then lowers his volume. “Sorry. I mean, you read my note. So you understand that this is kind of a big deal for me.”

You laugh, and not unkindly.

“Well, let’s get going then. We have a lot of time to make up for.”

thank you for reading!! xoxo Valentine's Day Special Masterlist

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson reader insert #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson comfort #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #we're an hour late! sorry bout that

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harmfulb1tch · 2 months

Text

Sweetie, I love you

Ship: Alastor x wife!reader

Warnings: slight mentions of sexual relations, other than that, tooth-rotting fluff.

Summary: After-care and pillow talk with Alastor, after a date for your anniversary.

———————

You and your husband had just arrived from date night in cannibal town. You had been married for 95 years, that day being your anniversary. The night had been perfect: flowers, dinner at a nice restaurant and then dancing. When you arrived at the hotel, you were feeling a bit… frisky. When you and Alastor arrived at the hotel, he made love to you. You knew he wasn’t one to particularly enjoy that kind of acts, but he did so anyways. You always theorized that when you two had sex, it was more about the power he had over you than actual pleasure. You didn’t mind, but today it seemed different. Instead of his dominant nature, it was softer, fuller of love. You knew that Alastor loved you, but that feeling never transcended to the bed.

Now, you were laying on your tummy, just wearing a pair of black panties. Your body was covered up to your waist with the duvet. Alastor had gone to the bathroom after cleaning you up to leave the towel he had borrowed. You were almost asleep when you felt the mattress shift. You then felt your husbands clawed hands softly caressing the back of you bed. You turned your face to him, looking him in the eyes.

“That felt amazing Al…” you said softly, sighing at the feeling of his hand going up and down your back. A smug grin spread across his face and he laid down next to you, wrapping his arm around your waist.

“That’s very good to know, my love…” you loved his voice. The staticky sound of it relaxing you further. You kissed his nose sweetly.

“Thank you, for… you know…” you said, a blush spreading across you face. He chuckled softly and stroked you face.

“You’re welcome, my dear” he said, kissing your sweaty forehead.

“I love you, you know?” you had told him everyday since your first date, but it never grew old. A soft smirk spread across your face.

“I know, my dear. You remind me of it every day… “ A blush spread across your face to his words.

“S-sorry Al… for being annoying… I just really do!” You stuttered, suddenly really nervous.

“No need to apologize, dear! You know I love it…You actually make me feel quite the special man!” He said in his jolly, radio voice. You turned and laid on his chest. He smiled softly at this and wrapped his arms around you.

“Hey… Al?” You said. He was almost asleep already and his heart skipped a beat at the sound of your voice.

“Yeeeees?” He responded.

“When did you know you had fallen in love with me?” That question made his eyes grow a bit wider. He wasn’t expecting the question, but answered confidently.

“I’m not actually quite sure! I remember always thinking you were the prettiest girl in New Orleans when we were alive. You looked ethereal in my eyes. But I cannot pinpoint the moment I actually started loving you. I think one day it just… happened. I do remember a specific moment when I realized I had fallen hard for you. It was the day we went dancing to the bar near the radio station. It was pouring like crazy. I lent you my coat so that lovely dress of yours didn’t get wet. I was escorting you home when you fell into a mud puddle, you got soaked! Remember?” You nodded, fondly remembering that day. “I laughed at the fact you were soaked and then, you pushed me down and I got soaked as well. And even so, I have never felt as attached to you as I do now. If I could marry you all over again just to spend a whole day with you, I absolutely would” he finished. You were almost in tears.

“Really? If you had to do it all over again, would you have married me that day in New Orleans?” You asked so you could keep hearing his beautiful words.

“Yes, I would have… If I could turn back in time, I’d marry you all over again, no doubt about it…” with that, he kissed your hairline. You sniffed a little bit, having been moved by his words.

“I love you, sweetie…” you said, hugging him closer.

“And I you, dearest” he pecked your lips.

After that, you fell asleep in his arms. To the feeling of his hands on your hair, and the rhythmic up and down of his breath.

#fanfics #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor x reader #alastor fluff #Alastor x reader fluff #alastor the radio demon #the radio demon

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forgeofthenine · 5 months

Note

The bachelors are bachelors no longer! How would they grow old with you? Secondarily, how would they respond to being grandparents?

Ironically I wrote this while staying at my Nans house. I'll be here for the holidays so the next few posts will also be written here, I just thought this was particularly thematic. Halsin was also a perfect fit for this prompt too, so I hope you don't mind me adding him in :)

How would the bachelors (+Halsin) grow old with you and respond to your growing family

Dammon

This blacksmith was sure he'd live the bachelor life for the rest of his days

Who'd want to marry a man so obsessed with his forge that he's basically personified it?

Apparently, he's found the one person out there that can appreciate all his quirks

As the two of you grow older I actually see him stepping back from his forge more

He's already taught your children how to handle the family blacksmithing business, giving over the running of it to your eldest daughter and son-in-law with one of your younger sons happily working there too

As much as it saddens him the aches and creaks in his joints make the work too hard on his aging body, and his hands aren't steady enough for the delicate detail work he used to do

You can't keep him out of the forge completely though, and he still visits regularly and helps with drawing the designs of new projects and commissions

When he isn't hovering over your children's work, he's with you and the grandkids

Dammon settled into a domestic life surprisingly well, and he's a very doting grandfather

He's the type to insist you buy extra treats because he knows a specific grandchild likes it and will be coming over to visit

He always volunteers you two for babysitting as well, the spare rooms in your house that were once your children's now belong to their kids

It's a life Dammon is content with, a large family surrounding him and you by his side, he really couldn't ask for more when he never expected to get this much

Zevlor

Zevlor is built to be a granddad, I'm saying it now

He loves you, his kids, and his grandkids more than anything

As an even older gentleman he's actually still very active

The type of old man to insist on going on long strolls after meals, and he quite happily runs your little hobby farm with the help of your kids

You have a smaller, close knit family

With children living just down the road, while your kids work or take care of the home you and Zevlor happily take the grandkids for entire days

He shows them the same things he showed his kids, things like how to tie shoelaces, to ride a horse, and to wield a sword

You'll see them all trudging back in for lunch, covered with dirt and grinning as they try and hide from you

Even in his older age he's very patient, happily listening to his grandbabies babbling as he feeds them

Speaking of food, Zevlor would want his main meal of the day to be at midday

Once he gets older he doesn't like the feeling of sleeping so soon after a big meal

He does start to take naps, however, and sometimes you'll see him passed out on a comfy chair with a grandchild sleeping on top of him

If no grandchildren are around he'll likely drag you into napping with him too, there's something special about napping with someone else

Zevlor lives a very charming life at the end of the day, and he couldn't be happier about it

Rolan

Rolan is the grumpiest old coot on the block

Absolutely the type to yell at kids to get off his lawn, if he actually had a lawn

Alas, he only has a tower and instead he teaches your only child the art of mastering the weave

As he grows older he somehow seems to grow grumpier and even more introverted

Without you there to drag him out of Ramaziths Tower people likely would've assumed him dead years ago

The only people that see his softer side are you, your child, and your grandchildren

And your grandchildren love coming to the tower, wanting to look at all the pretty things and see their granddad do magic

You know the magic shows that Rolan did for his siblings? He does them for his child and grandchildren too

Speaking of Cal and Lia, he's a doting uncle for their kids and grandkids

It ends up with all three of your families meeting up at the tower for all gatherings and holidays, despite Rolans prickly attitude

It's absolute chaos, and the wizard secretly loves watching everyone joking and having a good time

On a random note, he absolutely teaches your grandkids how to read and do arithmetic at a young age

He insists on reading them bedtime stories whenever possible too, and they love it because he does the voices

Rolan is the one that thought he'd be least likely to be a family man, but it turns out he fits that role quite well

Halsin

You and Halsin run an entire orphanage together, you end up with absolutely loads of kids

Only a handful are your biological kids and you also end up with a full-grown owl bear, but you love them all the same

Halsin is very long lived, even for an elf, and if you're equally long lived then you'll end up keeping the orphage going for literal hundreds of years

Over that time the two of you might see three or four generations of humans grow up, your former charges often coming back to visit with their own children and grandchildren

You end up being a pair of old, happy parents with an impossibly large family

Halsin revels in it, finding a true passion in raising kids into happy and functional adults

It's apparent in the way he grows into the role, happily spending decades retelling the same favourite bedtime stories about him and his companions saving the sword coast

He continues to dote on you too, no matter how old you both get

The elf always reminds you how beautiful you are and how much he loves you

Halsin adores his grandkids too, often having them come for sleepovers or to play with all the other kids

He loves nothing more than seeing everyone safe and content, an owl bear happily trodding along after him

You'll find he insists on running the orphanage for as long as possible too, almost on deaths door by time he finally passes it on to his children to take over

Halsin is a very passionate man, and his giant family is one of his greatest passions

#bri answers #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 x reader #bg3 x reader #baldurs gate 3 dammon #bg3 dammon #dammon x reader #baldurs gate 3 zevlor #bg3 zevlor #zevlor x reader #baldurs gate 3 rolan #bg3 rolan #rolan x reader #baldurs gate 3 halsin #bg3 halsin #halsin x reader

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thatfreshi · 8 months

Text

Forever and Ever (Astarion x Reader)

I'm going to sob and throw up everywhere this was so incredibly sweet.

Tw - mention of scars (i think that's it)

Recommended Song: Ronson Princess - Clarence James

Waking up to the sunlight gleaming through the red fabric, you and Astarion wrapped in each other's arms. It's odd for you to wake up before him, especially since he doesn't have to sleep all that much, but he's been particularly stressed the past couple of days. Baldur's Gate has brought up a lot of unpleasant memories, things he would've rather left behind. But sadly, everything has brought you back here, and he still wants Cazador dead. Perhaps that's what's weighing on him so heavily, knowing facing his master is so close.

You stare at his sleeping face for a long while, letting the sun continue trickling in, knowing soon he won't get this, soon that freedom of being in the sun, it'll be taken from him, just like everything else. Today you've prepared very special plans, kindly getting everyone to leave camp for the day. Before things change drastically, you want him to have something nice, a day without fighting, a day without talking about Cazador, a day without walking past taverns that he'd rather forget. You continue to smile at him, as his eyelids slowly flicker open. He smirks.

"I can practically hear you staring at me you know."

"Well good, at least you know how gorgeous I think you are."

You leave a kiss on his nose. Locking his fingers into yours, you start tracing his knuckles, all the little lines, tiny scars from fights, the callouses on his palm. He'd deny that he had them to anyone else.

"So... I have a surprise for you."

His ears perk up.

"Oh really? Whatever did I do to deserve such a thing?"

"You know I've said this a million times, but you don't have to do anything to deserve a gift my love. I just know you've been really stressed since we got back in the city, so I thought it would be nice if we had a day away from everything, just to ourselves."

"As if we could ever get time to ourselves with our hooligan friends."

You grin.

"That's the best part, I got them all to go do something else today, so we have the entire camp to ourselves!"

You feel a little bad, being so excited that your friends are leaving you alone, but Astarion likes the quiet. Sure, he's a performer, making little quips in a crowd, but it's that solitude, especially with you, that he cherishes. Maybe he was Stockholmed into it, being forced to be alone so often, but it was usually better than dealing with his 'siblings,' or Cazador. At least rats can't cut you up when they feel like having a good time.

"You seriously kicked out all of our friends so we could be alone for the day? However did you manage that?"

"I may have put some of your manipulation tactics to use..."

Last night, you just so happened to make an off-handed comment about something that would interest each of them. It wasn't too hard, especially since everyone in your group is obsessive over one subject at least, if not more. One by one, they decided they'd spend the day checking out something in the city.

"I have never been more in love with you."

You lock lips, running your hands through his hair, realizing that quite uncharacteristically, he hasn't washed it in days. He's usually quite ritualistic with his appearance, no doubt due to how he always had to look perfect. The habits simply stuck around, but he doesn't mind all that much.

"So, I have a whole day of activities planned!"

He sighs, thinking you mean some intensive itinerary.

"Okay maybe not activities, but nice little calming things to do. I call it... self-care day."

You look way too proud of yourself, and Astarion makes it known.

"What, dear gods, is self-care day? I am all for caring about yourself, as I am spectacular, but an entire day?"

"Yes. It's supposed to be overkill. Just a whole day of absolute bullshit, so you don't have to worry about anything!"

"As if I have ever gone a day without worrying."

You sit up, lifting him up to sit with you.

"Well, we're going to try, because you deserve it. Pleaseeeeee, I just want to spoil you."

He can't ignore your pleading, especially when you look at him with those soft eyes, a gaze that could ask for anything and he'd oblige.

"Alright fine, I will follow along on your self-care day, even if it sounds a little silly."

"Great! So, remember how I went out after dinner last night, and I told you that you couldn't come with me because I was doing something super special and secret?"

"Oh, when I was terrified of you roaming the city by yourself? No, why would I remember that at all?"

His voice is absolutely dripping in sarcasm.

"You know as well as anyone that I can take care of myself, you just like being a chivalrous piece of shit to people that are mean to me."

He shrugs.

"Yes. That sounds entirely reasonable, why would I not do that?"

"Okay yes whatever you like protecting me blah blah blah. We're getting away from the story. I found lots of cool little things, for example..."

Your voice trails off as you dig through your bag, trying to find the cloth sack you got your hands on yesterday. After you find it, you slowly open the pouch.

"I found your favorite tea!"

It's quite a particular brew, one you're pretty sure was made in this city. It's almost impossible to find anywhere else, and when you find it here, it's usually expensive. You hand the bag to him, and he takes in the scent. Blackberry, lavender, ginger, and a couple notes of citrus. Is it way too complex? Yes, quite, but he likes to dissect the flavor, focusing on the different components in the drink.

"You remember that thing I said, what was it... about saving money for, oh I don't know, a place to live after this? You know this is far too expensive my dear."

"It's fine, I can pickpocket a few people."

He laughs.

"You mean I can pickpocket a few people and you'll say you were there for moral support?"

"Yes."

Astarion simply sighs, because if he didn't love you, gods would he absolutely hate you. You could probably say the same thing about him though, so at least you're even. He grabs two cups from somewhere in the mess of his belongings, and the two of you make your way to the dying campfire. As you grab some water from one of the carafes, he adds some more wood to the fire, casting ignis instead of actually putting in the work to start a fire. Usually you would tease him about how he doesn't know how to start a fire, but today he's allowed to take the easy way out. You begin boiling the water for your tea.

"Okay, time for surprise number two while surprise number one is still cooking up."

"Oh, a second surprise?"

"It's self-care day, not self-care hour. There are many surprises to come."

You quickly walk to Gale's tent, bringing back a charcuterie board, filled with small finely cut fruits and mini cheese wedges.

"Ta-da!"

Astarion takes in the beauty of the spread, his heart fluttering a little. Sure, he doesn't have to eat, but he certainly lives for the finer things in life, and a charcuterie board is one of them. After all, eating things that aren't bloody animals makes him feel a little more normal. You smile, realizing he's actually excited and isn't relentlessly teasing you.

"I bought them last night and had Gale put together the spread this morning. I know it's less romantic but-"

"No my sweet it's... it's wonderful."

The two of you eat heart shaped strawberries and little pieces of cheese while you wait for the tea to brew.

"I know I joked a lot, but I do really appreciate all of this darling. It's nice, to know someone cares about me this much. Especially to know that you care about me this much."

"Of course my love. You deserve this and so much more."

You kiss his neck, leaving a little bit of juice from the strawberries. It's hard sometimes for Astarion to remind himself that the worst is behind him, that all he has to do now is deal with his master, and he can finally leave all of this shit behind him. He can finally have that life he wants, with you in some nice house, sleeping together in a nice bed every single day. It's also hard to remember that you love him, that he isn't some charity case you picked up, that you do all of this out of the kindness of your heart. He thought for the longest time that no one was truly kind, and that if they were, they were going to be dead soon enough, and yet he would do anything it took to keep you safe, one of the kindest souls he's ever met. He tears up a little, thinking about how you would care this much, that anyone could care this much about him.

"Are you okay Aster?"

You wipe a tear off his cheek.

"Yes, I'm alright. Just sentimental, that's all."

The way his eyes get wide when he cries, as if he's letting the world in for once, you always notice it.

"That's okay, you can cry all you want. Besides, usually makes you feel better after."

While you're consoling him, you pour out two cups of tea, handing him the first. You take a sip, realizing why this is his favorite. Sure, it's a lot going on, but there's something luxurious about it, soothing, as if made for royalty. Astarion wipes at a couple of his tears, and takes a sip.

"I'm serious though Tav, you have got to stop spending all of our money after this. I'll take this one nice day, but after that, it's back to pinching pennies for us."

Always worried, always thinking about the next thing, always five steps ahead. He's always had to be, playing his life like chess, knowing he's a pawn in some far greater game, knowing if he makes one wrong move he'll lose everything. You don't blame him one bit. After all, the two of you do need enough money to buy a place after all of this is over, and yet you don't worry about it, knowing you'll figure it out. Things have worked out for you so far, and they'll continue to. They simply must.

"Alright, deal."

After sitting and drinking your tea for a while, talking about what you want in the house when you finally buy it, you lead him down to the nearby creek so you can wash his hair.

"Now I know what you're going to say-"

"What, that I could simply do it myself and that you don't have to do something ridiculous like wash my hair for me?"

"Yes... something like that, yeah."

"Then why would you even try asking if you could?"

"Because I love you, and I want to, and I don't want you to have to worry about it."

You stay silent for a second.

"...and I may have bought a really nice shampoo from a store in the city even though I probably shouldn't have splurged but I just want you to have nice things..."

You make those puppy eyes at him, expecting him to say no or give you some lecture.

"Alright, if you insist."

"Wait, really?"

"Yes. Now go ahead and start before I change my mind and lecture you about how to properly bargain for things."

Now this, is a truly rare occurrence. He's so particular about his hair, to the point where he has to fix it every time you mess with it. You swiftly fill a bucket of water and take the nice shampoo out of your bag, putting yet another strawberry in your mouth.

"Seems like you're enjoying the strawberries much more than I am."

He says as he turns his back to you, the two of you sitting in the grass by the creek.

"Hey, it's a board for the both of us. If you're not eating off of it, that's your loss."

You mumble while still chewing on the fruit. He realizes you're right and grabs another piece of cheese before you eat it all. You motion for him to take his shirt off so he doesn't get water all over it, and soon you start working through his hair. It's sadly become quite knotted the past couple of days, due to neglect from the slump he's been in. You try your best not to get sad about it, knowing it's the truest sign of just how out of it he's been. Between dirt and knots and dried blood, there's plenty for you to work through, slowly but surely cleaning it all out, combing through it along the way.

"Are you sure I'm not going to look like a wet cat when you're done?"

You laugh at him.

"Hey, I never said anything about styling, just that I'd wash it. How it looks after is on you."

You don't see it, but he smiles. He has this moment of realization, a sense of clarity. This is it. The thing he's wanted all his life, he's found it, and it's someone so unlike him. And yet somehow, here you were, madly in love, eating fruit and cheese by the water, simply taking care of each other.

"I want it to stay like this forever."

He says suddenly. Your face lights up.

"Me too."

You put down the comb, wrapping your arms over the tops of his shoulders. He holds onto your hands, as if he's realizing for the first time just how real you are. You're here, and he's here, and you're in love. What a wonderful thing, to truly be in love, to have a plan, to have a future. He never really had a future, just a present, day after day. But now there's hope, a life after today, and tomorrow, and the day after.

"Would you do this again sometime? This whole, self-care thing with me? It's been quite nice."

You leave a couple of kisses on his shoulder, and he feels you smile into his skin.

"Of course. As many times as you want my love. Forever and ever."

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #fluff #comfort

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jadeylovesmarvelxo · 6 months

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💕

Fluffy one shot 💖💫

Eddie hates mistletoe. It reminds him of last year when he was stuck under the offending plant for five minutes with one of those idiot jocks from Jason's squad.

"Come on big boy, give us a kiss" he batted his eyelashes at the dude who finally stormed away muttering the usual insults under his breath.

Then there was the time Tammy Thompson who caught him under it two years ago and kissed him. It was in front of Hellfire and they didn't let him live it down for weeks.

So now he avoided mistletoe like the plague, who's stupid idea was it to hang it up in the school anyway?

He had seen two of his teachers sharing a kiss and that was enough to give him nightmares for a week.

Anytime he saw mistletoe now he would make a run for it, avoided going anywhere near places he knew it would be.

On this particularly Friday, Eddie was on edge and ready to squirrel away somewhere that didn't have happy couples taking advantage under the mistletoe.

Or hear the giggles of girls when they caught their crushes under it...

Or Gareth trying to catch his crush under the mistletoe and ranting in Eddie's ear when it didn't work out.

Maybe he would set up shop in the drama room until Hellfire so he could get some peace?

Jesus h christ he was done for the day and if one more person bothered him...

Someone tugs on his arm and he turns around ready to bitch the asshole out. No doubt it's some clown jock.

Then he sees you smiling at him and his bad mood disapatates completely.

His mood instantly picks up and he feels himself go to mush as you beam at him.

Shit, you really did make him speechless, he usually alternated between showing off for your attention or being like this... A complete and utter goner for you.

"Hi, Eddie" he smiles at you and tries to school his expression so he doesn't look like a goofy idiot.

"Princess" he answers and he loves the way you smile at his nickname for you. Princess was reserved for special people only... Well just you really.

You look nervous. Did he make you feel that way? You made him nervous as shit and he wasn't used to feeling like this.

"Eddie, look" you point up at the ceiling and he freezes when he sees mistletoe.

"Uh hey look at that" he stammers out and his heartbeat races in his chest when you kiss his cheek, he turns his head a fraction and his lips meet yours.

He melts into the kiss. It's perfect. Like rolling a d20 at a critical point in a campaign, mastering Metallica's new song and the first time he saw his sweetheart (his guitar)

The little moan you make leaves Eddie feeling like he's on cloud nine and when you move away he desperately wants to pull you back so he can keep kissing you.

"Maybe now you can finally ask me on that date" you tease him and he obliges as soon as the blood returns to his brain and not uh... Other parts of him.

Okay, it was official. Eddie Munson loved mistletoe.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x y/n

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facelesssbirds · 6 months

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Cuddles || Genshin

A.N. Summary: How you (and them) cuddle. Characters: F!Reader, Neuvillette, Furina, Beidou (I promise Childe will be in the next one...) Rating: E - Everyone <33 P.S. If you have requests, I'd really appreciate it! I'm trying to grow my writing skills through fan fiction, because it brings a lot of joy to people, so... I'll do my best tysm!

Neuvillette is all seriousness and perfection in public, but when you get him alone, he devolves into a cuddly teddybear that just adores curling up on the couch with you, just lazing around.

That isn't to say he's opposed to days like this, where you've crashed his lunch break, he had planned to skip it completely, the overflow of documents from the court clerk's office standing tall and unrelenting at his desk.

"Neuvi!" You grinned, opening the door, "I brought lunch."

He looked up, only briefly, giving you a hint of a smile, "Oh? What'd you get today?"

He had long since learned that even kicking you out wouldn't deter you, and your insistence on making sure he got proper time to rest.

"Steak-Frites," You said, tossing a few bags onto his coffee table, "Nothing special."

He raised a brow, almost imperceptibly, "Oh? Then, ma trésor, why are you here so unannounced?"

You laughed nervously, wringing your hands behind your back, almost like a child who's been caught stealing from a cookie jar, your eyes darting to his, then away, a faint flush painting your cheeks.

"Well..." You trailed off, busying yourself with the cuff of your sleeve, "cuddles?"

He chuckled, a low rumbled, barely there as he stood from his desk glancing at the clock.

"I suppose I have time."

Furina is a clingy lover, you come to understand very early into the relationship, but despite her grandiose and facades, she's a private person. She didn't want her lover to be the subject of whispers and rumors, or scandals, no she wants you all to herself, safe and sound, thank you very much.

Still, when you're home alone, and she's just gotten back from a particularly interesting day at court, she'll hop down next to you on the couch, regardless of what you had been doing earlier, and snuggling into your arms. Then she'll talk.

You always enjoyed hearing Furina talk, it was where her passion shined out into the world, even when she was being particularly needy.

"And so I said, 'well you can't--'," Furina cut herself off, looking at something on the coffee table, she was snuggled right under your head, the book you had previously been reading discarded.

"Furina?" You probed quietly, your arms tightening around her waist.

She turns to look at you, scooting sideways, and pouts, "You had hot-chocolate without me!"

You chuckle, realizing what this is about, "Ma cherie, do you want some?"

She burrowed under the blankets, "Yes, please!"

"Well then, you know you're going to have to move... right?" You warned her, a amused smile creeping onto your face.

She pouts, again, this time more jokingly, "I will not! I am Lady Furina, the Hydro Archon and I will not move for you!"

You laugh along, gently moving her out of the way, so you can go to the kitchen and make your darling a nice cozy drink.

Beidou normally didn't do cuddling. Not that she was against it or anything, but the whole 'physical affection' thing came easy for her towards friends, it was entirely different with lovers. Not to say she was nervous, more-so she was just... unfamiliar with the concept.

As a girl who grew up on the sea, and with a love for the sea, work and friendliness ran in her veins, romance however was something of a mystery. She could flirt seven way to heaven and charm a man of his beard, sure, but that didn't make up for her absolute unawareness of the... fluff that came with love.

"Beidou--" You wined, coming out of the captains cabin just after the sun had risen. Today was supposed to be your and Beidou's day off, and you had planned to sleep in, and laze the day away. Naturally, you dearest, ever hardworking had derailed those plans.

Still, she looked up, smiling at you, and yelling your name. You waved back from above, yawning. Nonetheless she was beside you in a flash, "Good morning, sleepyhead-- you're up late."

You gave her a deadpan stare that conveyed, 'it's too early for this.' before nestling into her side, and arm wrapped around her waist.

"I wanted cuddles," You whined, it seemed that your day off had made you a bit bratty, "Its out day off, we should spend it... like, taking time off."

She laughed, hearty, "This is me taking the day off," She grinned, and you returned it with a smile, "But- I suppose, I can make an exception, just this once."

Your initial smile lit up, suddenly energized you tugged Beidou away from the crew. Perhaps a new experience wouldn't hurt?

#neuvillette x reader #genshin impact #neuvillette #neuvillette x f!reader #furina #furina x reader #furina x f!reader #furina x you #neuvillette x you #beidou #beidou x reader #beidou x you #I promised childe #you will get Childe son

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sim0nril3y · 8 months

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First Meeting

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Civilian!Reader

Scenario: Being dragged out for the night with friends Simon find himself desperately trying to be alone when a girl with a broken shoe stumble across him.

Note: Set in 2014

Warnings: No mask Simon (It's my personal headcanon in his regular life he probably wouldn't wear it), briefs mentions of abuse, mentions of smoking, mentions of alcohol, suggestive conversation, mentions of age gap, derogatory comments. Note: I made this an OC rather than a Reader because she has her own backstory and family and dreams that may not align with the whole Reader aspect of writing. If you guys do want something like that let me know and I'll see if I can work something out.

30-08-2020 Edit: I’ve updated this fanfic to be a reader rather than OC.

Returning from deployment never really changed for Simon. It wasn’t something he ever enjoyed. There was something about the regiment of the forces that grounded him, something about the strict timelines and regulations. None of that mattered back home. It wasn’t like he could speak to his "friends" about the trauma of being away in war-torn countries. It wasn’t like they even asked; they knew better.

Occasionally on nights out Simon would get asked the rude question of his death tally. He’d simply brush off the question. Honestly, he wasn’t sure if he had a reasonable answer to it anymore. No, instead he would pretend like he didn’t hear as other friends chastised for even asking that sick question. Why was it sick? Did they not think of him as a killer? Maybe that tainted their idyllic persona of the perfect solider. Simon knew that war was disgusting and bloody and each time he took another life a little bit of his own chipped away too.

Stand outside he brought a cigarette to his lips, inhaling slowly and just enjoying the cold winter air. “Bollocks…” A voice slipped from beside him, glancing over his shoulder to see the slight frame of a woman bent down trying to repair the band of her high-heel. As always, he stayed quiet, used to just observing and not interrupting the flow. “Need some help, sweetheart~” A drunk came stumbling in her direction.

In an instant she shot to her feet, stumbling in her broken heel as you turned to face the offending man. “Oh-” “Gonna catch y’death out here, sweetheart. Specially in that little dress…” He commented and Simon gave himself a moment to take in your outfit, it was particularly short from a night-out in January, not that any of the other birds were dressed any different. “Why don’t we get a taxi back to my flat.” He offered and Simon saw the way your shoulders seemed to tense at the suggestion. “Oi…” His voice began before his brain registered that this was a poor idea. “Fuck off and leave her alone.”

“The fuck you think you are?” Came a drunken drawl back in his direction. “Think I’m gonna be your problem if you don’t leave her alone.” He rose then, towering over the two of them you, double both your weight, double both your size. “Pshh… fuckin’ have the slag…” Drunkenly he turned and stumbled back into the club. “Thanks…” Your voice was small as you tilted your had up to make eye-contact. “S’nothing…” Then turning he moved back to where he was sitting.

“Mind if I join you?” Your voice was quiet, flasing a packet of cigarettes in his direction. “Not gonna stop you.” Simon answered with a short shrug. “Fuckin’ shoe…” You grumbled under your breath before joining him delicately, sitting close enough that it looked friendly but far enough away to give him plenty of space. It a light voice your informed him your name. It was pretty. It suited you. The way your voice cut through the cold air, warm personality shining even on this night.

Simon didn’t reply, simply continued to smoke his cigarette in the quiet whilst you lit up your own beside him. “Y’even old enough to be in there?” Suddenly you looked at him before snickering. “Turned 21 months ago.” You announced proudly. “Even got my ID to prove it.” Fuck, you was young. 9 years younger than him, in fact. Whilst he was being beaten and abused by his sick father you was just coming into this world. Fuck, don’t think about any of that. “So, do I get to know your name? Gonna have to tell the story of how a dashing smoker saved me from a weirdo.”

Dashing? Were you flirting with him? You… were way out of his league. Jesus, why was you even paying him any mind when you could go home with practically any lad in there. Why did that sentiment bother him so much? “Simon.” He ground out finally, putting a firm stop to his inner monologue. “Nice name.” “No, it’s not. Just a name.” He couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at his lips. “Don’t be stupid.” He watched the way your pretty face contorted into a smile and then fell into a fit of giggles. It was fucking bliss. The way that you laughed. It was almost fucking musical, or at least it was to Simon’s ears. “Nice fuckin’ name…” He repeated shaking his head. “Kid, you’ve got to work on technique a bit.” Then shaking his head as he took another long drag of his cigarette.

“Well, maybe you could help with that…” Your voice was suggestive and inquisitive, putting the question out there loosely enough that he could see it as a joke or an invitation. “M’sure there are plenty boys your age that could help with that.” There was finality to his tone that even you could sense. Jesus, you were 21 by your own confession. You was so fresh and new to the dating scene. He, on the other hand, was just beginning his 30s, though his years of service made him feel a lot older. There was no way he could just fuck around with a girl like you. It wouldn’t fair.

Sensing his apprehension you simply shrugged your shoulders, as carefree as ever and then muttered. “Maybe~” Nabbing a nearby empty cigarette packet and jotting down your details onto the card before sliding it in his direction. “Guess if you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

A flurry of girls stumbled from the club, surrounding her in a moment in a loud chatter of excitement. “We’ve been looking for you everywhere!” “C’mon, next club~” “Who is that?” “What happened to your shoe?” The questions buzzed around his mind and you kept his gaze until whisked away by her friends. “Fuckin’ hell…” Cursing under his breath as he inspected the packet between his fingers, taking the final drag of his cigarette and then flicking it aside.

Masterlist | Ask | 28-08-2023

#simon ghost x reader #ghost x oc #simon riley x oc #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #ghost x reader #cod mw2 #cod x reader #cod x oc #simon riley #simon riley x you #ghost mw2

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honeydazai · 2 years

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୨୧·࣭࣪̇˖ 𝆬 ᴡᴀᴋɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ʙꜱᴅ ᴍᴇɴ ᴜᴘ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ ʙʟᴏᴡ ᴊᴏʙ 𝆬 𓏸

feat.: Dazai, Chūya, Ranpo, Kunikida, Atsushi, Akutagawa, Fyodor, Sigma, Nikolai

content: nsfw, praise, degradation, oral sex | reblogs appreciated!

The second DAZAI'S eyes flutter open, there's a smirk stretching his lips wide apart. You're all pretty between his legs, your lips glistening with saliva and his precum where you've closed them around his aching cock, and, well, how could he possibly resist such a perfect opportunity to tease you?

Words of degradation and praise alike leave his mouth as he leans down and cups your face in one hand, his thumb smoothing over your flushed cheek, and he outright chuckles when you gag as he suddenly thrusts his hips forward, catching you entirely off-guard. Given how you've been at it for quite some time, it doesn't take long until he comes; he makes sure to spill onto your face, however, with his cum soon dripping off your forehead and the bridge of your nose, some of it even having caught on your lashes. He's a jerk through and through, but be at least offers to make you come.

“Oh? My, bella donna, don't tell me you were too needy to wait until I'm awake! How adorable you are, truly — come, up you go; why don't you show me just how much you want me to fuck you, hm?”

CHŪYA is more than surprised when he wakes up to pleasant warmth around his dick. For but a moment, he's terribly flustered, with his cheeks turning a pinkish colour, though he huffs out a laugh a mere moment later, his smirk amused.

He tilts his head back with a groan when the tip of your nose brushes against his abdomen, the head of his dick nudging against the back of your throat, and he moans in pleasure when you gag around him, a pitiful whine leaving your mouth. He's one to question where you'd like for him to come, though, well, you can't really respond with your mouth full, which is why he decides for you and comes down your throat moments later.

“Fuck, wouldn't have thought you'd be into something like this, baby. You feel so damn good around my cock—, fuck, it's like you're made for this. Good girl. Come on, take some more.”

RANPO'S signature smirk appears on his face the second he lifts the blanket up, only to find you slurping on his dick. He tilts his head to the side, and amusement all but drips from his voice as he asks just what exactly you think you're doing the same way his precum drips onto your tongue.

While he's terribly smug about you wanting him this much, he lets you do all the work. The urge to occasionally thrust into the tight heat of your throat is present, sure — he's but a man, after all —, but the sight of you bobbing your head up and down eagerly to please him is even more intoxicating. By the time he comes, he demands that you wake him up with head daily from now on.

“Oh? Are you enjoying yourself, love? You certainly look like it, drooling all over my dick like that. Bet you're dripping wet yourself. Why don't you touch yourself for me while you keep on pleasuring me, hm?”

Let's be real; FYODOR probably knew that you were planning on waking him up in a rather special way even before you had the idea in the first place. Because of that, he's not particularly surprised when he, one morning, opens his eyes to you gagging on his dick, though a pleased smile finds its way onto his lips nonetheless.

He immediately teases you for how needy you are, and for how terribly insatiable, for how sinful, you're behaving, though he himself isn't any better, honestly. He enjoys it whenever your saliva, as well as his precum, coat your chin and drip from your swollen lips, though he's mean about scolding you — just like he's mean about fucking your throat. Don't you dare complain about his rough pace, though. You're his to use, after all.

“My, what a messy pet I have. And such a needy one, too. Oh, how good would it be if you were able to see yourself right now, drooling all over my cock like a slut. On second thought, why don't you get me a camera real quick?”

SIGMA'S eyes widen the second he gazes down his own stomach, only to find you between his legs, your lips stretched obscenely wide around his cock. The slurping and occasional gagging noises cause his cheeks to flush, though he can't deny that this feels damn good.

He swears he's trying to be gentle as he bucks his hips into your mouth, his thighs shaking when you suck at the head of his dick, your tongue swirling around it, and, God, you're way too talented with your mouth; he's choking out praises while you keep sucking him off until he comes down your throat, and, afterwards, he's quick to offer to repay you.

“Ah, love, you're so good—, you feel absolutely amazing. So close—, please, darling. Oh, God, that was something to wake up to. Now, let me make you feel good, yes?”

NIKOLAI'S smirk is terribly smug when he gazes down at you, his arched eyebrows raised. He's surprised for a moment, though he adjusts to the situation quickly, and he might just call you a whore for doing something this depraved.

One large hand of his rests on the back of your head, his nails scratching over your scalp until you moan around his dick, the noise muffled and your eyes fluttering closed. While his tiny gestures seem loving at first, he soon all but pushes your head down, and, no matter how strong you are, you really don't have a chance to pull back. He chuckles, amused, when you gag and choke, tears welling up in your eyes, and you really don't have to hope for any mercy or pity; your suffering only causes his dick to twitch in your mouth.

“Oh, come on, you can take it, dear! I believe in you; besides, don't you want to please me, darl? Don't look at me like that now — you've gone without air for longer than this before!”

ATSUSHI's whole body seems to jerk by the time you flatten your tongue against the underside of bis dick, and it takes quite a bit for him to process the situation, still tired as he is. When you bob your head up and down, though, a loud and entirely unashamed moan leaves his mouth and his back arches off the bed, his thighs spread wide.

While there's some initial embarrassment at first, with his cheeks flushing pink, he gets over it quickly. Soon enough, he's all but thrusting into your mouth and down your throat, and he's really not trying to be rough, he swears, the last thing he wants to do is hurt you, but it feels so damn good — he can't help but get lost in the pleasure. He's quick to spill down your throat with a grunt, though he also hurries to apologise for doing so without asking moments later.

“Ah—, you're so good, please, please, I'm so close, so damn close, don't stop. Oh—, oh, did I—? Fuck, sorry, I didn't mean to come, you know, inside—”

It takes a while for KUNIKIDA to wake up even after you've put his dick into your mouth, but by the time he does, there's a heavy blush spreading from his face down his neck. He's in utter disbelief, his eyes wide and eyebrows raised, though this really isn't the time to scold you about manners and what a lady should and shouldn't do; instead, a moan claws itself out of his throat when he opens his mouth to say something.

Moments later, he simply gives in, and praises leave his lips naturally. His hand moves to your head, though more to guide you than to push you down. He's especially weak for when you moan or whimper around his dick; the vibrations make him groan in pleasure. He's intent on pulling out before he comes, though, no matter how much you reassure him it's alright to come into your mouth.

“This is most indecent—, hah, though I guess it can't be too bad when you just wanted me this badly. Please, do continue—, God, that's good. Just like that. Good girl.”

AKUTAGAWA is a light sleeper; the second you close your lips around the flushed head of his dick, his eyes snap open, and for a mere moment, he's simply irritated. It only registers to him that you're between his legs, pleasuring him, when he gazes down at you, all wide-eyed and sucking him off, and a groan falls from his lips.

Despite being initially unhappy at being woken up this abruptly, he can't exactly complain, not when your mouth is this talented. Still, he's rough when he thrusts up into your mouth, wet heat engulfing the tip of his cock as it pushes down your throat, and he can't say that he doesn't enjoy the way you gag just a little around him, protesting moans leaving your throat. His smirk is well-hidden, but smugness seems to radiate off of him when he comes into your mouth and you struggle to swallow it all.

“God, you're needy. What, you want my dick that badly you couldn't even wait until I woke up? Hah, fine then. Show me what you can do.”

➛ this work was commissioned by @ queenquixotic!! 💜 thank you sm again for commissioning me and letting me post this!

➛ join my tag list! link in my pinned post!

➛ tags: @irethepotato @beandaifuku @ranpobb @arixsux @atsyushi @satoruislove @pastelsbaby @marina-and-the-memes @texchou @shiggysredhead @savagemickey03 @rosepxtlz @nikolaiswife @okura-s @ladykatakuri @lunerenzo @berywritesstuff @xelia25 @yuuotosaka3 @double-black-dazai @alice0blog @thylocalcrackhead @fyodorstolenushanka @ttaiyakii @itsnovariella @black-rose-29 @fyodorscumsock @ayshaashaya @qxxstuff @serenareiss @atsvsh1 @dilucshandholder @reiikonee @1-800-mocha @xvocadooo @hexiisexii @cupxfcxffee @jodidann @happymoon16 @yumidepain @nchuuyahq @janeinerz @Aaronthegreatestsimp @fanfiction-waifu @KimxKiba @Morigumy @villainouspotential @ashthemadwriter @dzaixchuu @hanakotheghost @shinwifexx @rhaeena @cicada-teeth

@the-foreigner465 @dei-lilxc

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lilyrizzy · 2 months

Text

Inspired by Daniel’s silly EA advert… hope someone enjoys!

It’s been a good day. A lot of the drivers hate this stuff, putting on the tap shoes for the sponsors and asking how high, but Daniel- He kinda likes it.

It’s something he’s good at, turning up to a set and being silly, making people laugh and being told good job Daniel. That’s great, perfect. The words give his chest the kind of buoyancy that has him feeling he could float the whole way home.

They’re a reminder that soon enough, he’ll be back in Melbourne where everyone will say his name with the same tenderness the director has given him, but this time wanting the best for him, instead of from him.

“Amazing job today Daniel,” Robert says again now, clapping a warm hand on Daniel’s shoulder. “I think that last part was enough just in the one take. You’re a natural.”

The pleased smile on Daniel’s face spreads easily.

“Cool,” is all he says though, “happy to help, I- Actually mate, I was hoping you’d let me have a little something in return.”

—

“Maxy!” Daniel calls, wrestling with both the front door and the giant box. “Where are you, baby?”

Their house in LA is big, his words bouncing off the walls of the grand entrance hall. Usually, it’s full of friends, sometimes family, but this week for once it’s just the two of them.

“Sofa!” Max shouts back, voice croaky like maybe he’d been napping. He’s probably not left the same spot Daniel left him in this morning. “How was the shoot, was it nice?”

Dumping his keys on the hallway table, Daniel follows the sound of Max’s voice. As suspected, he’s still stretched out across the cushions, belly up like Jimmy when he’s sunbathing in the balcony back home. His hand is shoved down the front of his shorts, but only idly. Daniel can see he’s not hard.

Still, for a moment his gaze gets caught there, before shifting back to Max’s face, his curious expression as he takes in the giant box Daniel is holding.

Right.

“I got you something,” Daniel says, setting it down on the coffee table. He opens it and begins to dig around. “A lot of merch swag and shit, but- Tah dah!”

He pulls out the game, proudly showing Max the box that has his own face on the cover. F1 2024.

“Oh,” Max says, and his smile is as sweet at the two happy pink splotches that begin to warm up his cheeks. “Thank you, Daniel.”

He sits up then, taking the game from Daniel’s hands and holds it like it’s something very special.

It’s not much of a gift really, because Max could get a copy for himself whenever he wanted. His people could call EA, or if he was feeling particularly desperate he could offer to do an ad of his own, but- He wouldn’t.

The only things he’s ever to gone out of his way to get are his championships and Daniel.

“I will have to wait for Lando to get his copy,” Max is continuing, but already he’s moving to crouch in front of their TV, his PlayStation, “or maybe Charles, for the multi-player but-“

“I can play,” Daniel interrupts, picking up the controller from their coffee table. It feels less foreign in his hand after a day being recorded holding it.

Max pauses, game disk spinning on one finger as he turns to look at Daniel.

“You want to play?”

He sounds confused, surprised.

“Sure,” Daniel says, all fake nonchalance. “I’ve even had a head start playing, I might be better than you.”

With a warmth fizzing in his belly, he watches the shock on Max’s face melt into quiet joy. He ducks his head to finish putting the game into the console, and when he takes a seat next to Daniel on the sofa, it’s close enough that their thighs are pressed together. Warm.

“I think if you want to beat me, you will have to hold it like this,” Max pokes at Daniel with a teasing grin, and then his hands are moving gently over Daniel’s to correct where he’s apparently holding the controller all wrong.

Daniel snorts, pushing out an elbow to nudge at the soft place Max’s ribs hide underneath.

“Fighting talk, baby,” he insists with far more confidence than he feels. “Just you wait, you’ll be begging for mercy.”

Max’s laugh is bright.

“Okay but I think we need to look at the settings first,” he begins again, “because of course I have the sensitivity set very high, and-“

Daniel lets Max’s explanations wash over him like music.

—

Later, Daniel manages to finally win a race by shunting Max into the first corner, speeding away while he’s still spinning in the gravel.

“That of course, does not count,” Max insists indignantly, though there’s a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “That is cheating, Daniel.”

“Not what you said in Baku baby,” Daniel reminds him, and then pokes his tongue out when Max begins to trip over his protests that he has done nothing wrong, ever.

Daniel begins a loud rendition of ‘we are the champions,’ in favour of listening.

Giving up his attempts to defend himself, Max tosses his controller onto the coffee table with a sharp clatter, instead choosing to crawl over Daniel, pressing him down into the sofa.

“I will show you a fucking champion,” he mutters, his thigh finding its way between Daniel’s legs.

Daniel’s own controller hits the hard wood floor with a thud.

#written from my iPhone #half asleep this morning #haven’t gramma checked #enjoy!!!!😉#fic #max/daniel

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depravitycentral · 10 months

Text

Haikyuu Dick Headcannons Pt. 3

Ft. the Seijoh men (Tooru Oikawa, Hajime Iwaizumi, Issei Matsukawa, Takahiro Hanamaki, Kentarou Kyoutani, Yuutarou Kindaichi, Akira Kunimi)

Tw: implied yandere, implications of stalking, lots of talk about cum, masturbation, oral, praise, a sprinkle of degradation, PSA Oikawa cries during sex, very slight misogyny in Kunimi's, fem reader, MDNI

Tooru’s cock is, just like the rest of him, pretty. It’s pale, slender, rigidly straight with a perfectly shaped bulbous tip that always makes this lewd schmuck noise when he pulls out of you. As he gets closer to coming his tip gets a little pink, but it’s nothing compared to the flush sitting high on his cheeks, or the rosy red of his lips. He’s got a single vein that runs along his underside, so it doesn’t marr the smooth appearance but still gives you that extra bit of stimulation when he’s fucking you. It’s just an overall outstanding cock, and he knows it, too - he’s confident in his body in general, but this is particularly true in the context of his penis. He takes good care of himself, shaving and making sure to use expensive oils and lotions to minimize any ingrown hairs or razor burns. He even uses a special genital cologne, just to make sure he smells good too. (The scent is one he thinks you’d like - he’d brought you to a perfumery one time as a joke because he thought seeing you scrunch your nose at some of the smellier ones was entertaining, but he’d been keeping note of which ones you’d found agreeable when he shoved them at you.) He’s not terribly sensitive - particularly when you’re sucking him off, because while it feels amazing to have your lips wrapped around him, he’s gotten enough head through his life that he’s just jaded and too used to it to find it especially pleasurable. But being inside you? That’s a different story - he hasn’t actually fucked that many women, and as a result the moment he slips inside you for the first time he’s gasping, his eyes blowing wide and this strangled, vulnerable little noise coming from his throat. He still takes a while to come, but he’ll gasp and murmur praise in your ear the entire time he’s thrusting into you, because you just feel so good and warm and tight.

He’s a shooter, and it makes this perfect, porn-worthy little arc as he throws his head back and moans your name. He doesn’t produce much in terms of volume, but it’s pretty runny, so it’ll often feel like there’s more there than there really is. His cum is very smooth; there’s no lumps or globs, and when he rubs it against your skin (because he likes seeing you covered in it, and he claims it’s good for your skin - rich in nutrients and makes you glow) it almost feels like a thin lotion. When he comes his whole body freezes up, every muscle going taut and tensing up as the pleasure overwhelms him. He’s still for a moment, but after the first initial wave he’s suddenly moving like a madman, his hips bobbing and thrusting wildly and unpredictably, desperate to get any last bit of pleasure they possibly can. He’s always clutching onto you, too, like he needs to ground himself or else he’ll get carried away by the pleasure. (This often leads to finger shaped bruises appearing on your hips and ass, sometimes even your breasts, and while he’s apologetic about it, he doesn’t feel bad.) He makes this high, airy sort of moan when he’s coming, and his eyes always shut tightly, his thin brows scrunching together and his mouth morphing into a sort of grimace. He looks like he’s in pain, but he’s not - it feels so, so very good, and he’s just trying to stop himself from moaning something stupid or crying. (He does cry sometimes, if the sex is particularly emotionally charged - the first time you tell him you love him gets him sobbing as he bends your knees up to your chin, plugging you full with his cock, and kissing you the whole time, whispering to you in a strained, broken moan I love you I love you I love you, fuck tell me you love me again-)

His favorite way for you to touch him is when you’re simply good for him, taking his cock and letting him do as he pleases with you. He likes when you’re receptive to his touches, and ideally you’d be spread out before him on the bed, your legs wrapped around his waist and your fingers alternating between running through his brown locks and scratching down his back when you’re getting close. He likes the way your cunt flutters around him, your walls rubbing him and massaging his length in a way that makes him breathless, and sometimes his arms even go a bit weak and he nearly falls down on top of you because you just feel too damn good. He likes when you thrust your hips in time with his, trying to get him in deeper and feel him to a much fuller extent. It makes him feel wanted, like he’s doing a good job of pleasuring you, and if you moan? Tooru’s gone, burying his face into your neck and moving from the languid, sensual pace he’d been fucking you at to a more purposeful, calculated one, aiming for that spot he knows you love with every snap of his hips. He especially likes it when you come on his cock - the way you clench down on him makes him light headed, and sometimes - when your orgasm is powerful enough - you squeeze him hard enough to force him out of your cunt, his cock still swollen and throbbing, your slick coating him while he watches you fall apart below him. He likes the way you spasm around him, and more often than not it lulls him into his own orgasm, spurting cum into you and gasping your name with his lips wrapped around your sensitive nipple. He just really, really likes when you willingly pull him closer and encourage him to fuck you deeper; it’s a surefire way to get him breathless and crying out your name.

He’s solidly five and a half inches, with dark hairs framing his base and naval. It’s the perfect shape, with a slight curve upwards that hits you just right when he’s got you spread out on your back, bulbous tip ramming into that spot over and over again. It’s incredibly easy to arouse him - his cock’s got a mind of its own, and often there’s blood rushing south from the slightest things, like you licking your lips (he can’t not imagine how they’d look around his length) or mindlessly playing with your fingers (they’d look so small against him, running along his chest and gripping around his cock; he bets you couldn’t even touch your fingers when you grip him). He gets hard embarrassingly quickly, and stays hard, even if he desperately tries to get rid of it. This causes quite a few awkward moments when he’s around you, and he tries to wear baggier pants whenever there’s a chance you might be present - just because every encounter with you more often than not leads to him popping a boner at least twice. He’s moderately sensitive, and particularly likes when you give his tip and base attention at the same time. He likes when you suckle at the head and lap your tongue up and down his slit, all while your fingers massage and grope at the juncture between his shaft and his pelvis. It makes him shudder, eyebrows drawing together, and gets his hips bucking forward slightly. Especially if you rub at the spot right above where his balls and shaft meet - it makes him actually growl.

His cum is thick and pretty bitter, landing on your tongue and leaving a residue like thick oil. The taste is hard to get out of your mouth, unfortunately, and when you tell Hajime this he’ll immediately feel guilty for how much he likes to finish down your throat. After that, every time you suck him off he’ll come on your face - he justifies it as being less invasive of your wishes, and because it seems to actually be good for your skin. (One time you’d had a nasty pimple, and after a spurt of his cum landed on it, the next morning it disappeared.) It’s okay, though, because his favorite place to come is actually on you, specifically on your pussy. He likes pulling out at the last minute and finishing himself off, watching as cum dribbles onto your pretty lips, making an absolute mess out of you and leaving you all sticky and warm. He’ll run his fingers through it sometimes, staring with this look of awe, intensely enough that you’ll get embarrassed. His ultimate, though, is when your spread your lips for him, exposing your quivering, swollen little hole, and he comes all over that - it’s dirty, taboo, and it makes his possessive urges towards you calm down a bit because now you’re marked as his, and anyone else can see the globs of his cum that are pressed up right against your most sensitive, intimate area. Of course, though, if you want him to come inside, he’ll never say no. He’s a gasper, his breath always getting caught when he’s fucking you. When he first shoves himself inside, he’s gasping lowly and biting his lip, trying to control himself and hold back the orgasm that’s already dangerously close. He’s not too terribly vocal for the most part, but when he gets close to coming he’s stuttering out your name, each syllable punctuated with a grunt and a gasp, until eventually he’s coming, his eyes blowing wide and a strained slur of your name falling from his lips. He stares the whole time, unwilling to look away, and it’s not until the oversensitivity overwhelms him that he lets the moment end.

His favorite way for you to touch him is when he’s giving himself a pussy job, using - of course - you. In general, he’s utterly fascinated by your cunt - he’s always staring at it, and although he’s certainly no virgin, there’s something about your folds, specifically, that makes him salivate. He’s always trying to rut his cock against you, obsessed with the feeling of the most intimate part of you touching the most intimate part of him, and he wants nothing more than to have you spread out before him, your eyes blown wide and legs spread for him, pretty body on display for him as he fists his cock. He wants to run his tip through your folds, to collect all your slick and wetness at his head, watching the way it mixes with his own pre, leaving him a sticky, wet mess that shines and gleans in the light. He’ll grip himself at the base, harshly exhaling as he runs himself slowly, so damn slowly, up and up, letting himself dip deeper inside every few centimeters, just enough to tease both him and you. He’ll run himself all the up to your clit, muttering out a curse as his tip draws circles against your little nub, his slit feeling so sensitive and needy that it makes him crazy. When he’s doing this, he tends to murmur your name a lot, growls of how pretty you look, amazed comments of how you’re already so wet for him, and curses of how fucking tiny your little pussy are always slipping past his lips. He’s amazed by how he can possibly fit inside you - you look so small and tight, and his cock looks much too big in comparison, and the idea of stretching you out gets him gulping, his cock visibly throbbing. Eventually he’ll cave and shove himself in, apologizing through grunts that he just can’t hold himself back anymore, that he can’t keep teasing himself, that he needs to be inside you and feeling how warm and wet and perfect you are. He’ll come very quickly after doing this - it only takes a few minutes, and soon he’s groaning your name and spilling inside of you, spurts of hot, thick cum plugging you up while he breathes in your scent and basks in you.

He’s a tall man, and his cock reflects that - it’s long, easily six and a half inches, hanging so heavily between his legs that even when he’s fully hard, swollen and practically begging to sink itself inside of you, it’s only standing at about 120 degrees, too weighed down by it’s own size to fully stand up. He’s not especially thick, but he’s veiny, with the raised skin criss-crossing and feeling perfect when they rub up against your spongy, sensitive walls. He’s not too terribly sensitive, but he likes steady, consistent pleasure stimulation, like a constant pace when he’s fucking you, or when you bob your head steadily, tongue lapping at his underside with fervor. His tip is always a darker shade than the rest of his shaft, the color matching his balls, and Issei particularly likes when you pay attention to those two areas. He’s extremely sensitive when it comes to any sort of stimulation to his balls, and the moment that your fingers brush them or your tongue flicks at them, he’s groaning, Adam’s apple bobbing as he tells you to do that again, angel, fuck just like that. He likes when you suck on them, trying to fit as much of each one into your mouth as you can, and just the sight of your lips wrapped around one while you suck and thumb at his tip with your hand makes his head spin, his orgasm drawing closer and closer at an alarming rate. He has a thing for making you kneel below him, and he really likes to be the one standing over you - there’s something about the power dynamic that gets him harder than he’s ever been in his life, and when you look up at him all sultry and dirty like that, it takes everything in him to not force your lips apart and fuck your throat like an animal. (And sometimes, the urge is too strong - you’re left with a bruised throat and a hoarse voice, but everytime you talk to him like that it makes his expression darken, his cock growing hard once more and soon you’ll find yourself bent over the nearest surface, ass cheeks on display while he breaths hard and nudges his tip at your hole, determined to give you a bruised cunt to match your throat.)

His cum is thick too, but sometimes the consistency can be a little strange. It tends to glob up a bit, and because he dribbles when he comes, this can sometimes result in little spurts oozing out of his tip. The volume of cum is quite high, and because of this, when he comes inside you, you can really only describe it as him stuffing you full. (He’s seen your tummy swell before when he’s creampied you - you don’t really believe him, but he swears your stomach got bigger. And just the thought of that - that he stuffed you full enough to stretch that little pussy of yours out - is enough to get him growling and sucking dark hickeys into your neck, his possessiveness shooting through the roof.) He’s not especially vocal in bed, normally preferring to stay quiet and just listen to you, but as he gets closer his breathing starts getting really heavy, pants coming from his lips that sound more and more labored the closer his orgasm looms. Right before it hits, he’ll close his eyes and groan, the sound low and full of timber, making a shiver roll up your spine because it sounds so primal, like some sort of animal. And when he’s actually coming, he’ll groan again - except this time, it sounds vaguely like your name, the last syllable sounding upturned as the pleasure makes his mind scramble. His hips will slow down to nearly a stop when he’s coming, because he tends to get oversensitive really easily and he needs a moment to catch his breath. His eyes are closed the whole time, eyebrows scrunching together and looking a bit like it hurts, but the way his thighs tremble and the way his jaw goes slack tells you just how good you’ve made him feel. He prefers coming inside you, but as long as his cum gets inside of you somehow, whether that be in your cunt or down your throat, he doesn’t really mind.

His favorite way for you to touch him is when he’s on his back, and you’re perched with your cunt over his face and your mouth over his cock. He’s a fan of the classic 69 position, because while it isn’t the most sexually satisfying option, there’s something that he finds really endearing about the idea of pleasuring each other equally. He loves the feeling of your mouth on his cock, and the combination of that plus getting to taste your cute little pussy leaves him light headed and aroused enough to throw you down onto the bed. He likes to get on his back and give you a look, hoping you’ll understand what he wants without him having to articulate it, but if you don’t seem to get the message he’ll grab you and manhandle you on top of him, a hand gently pushing your face down to rub against his cock while his tongue slips between your folds. He’ll admit that the position is a little distracting, because it can be hard to focus on pleasing you when you’re doing such a good job of pleasing him, but he’s normally able to stave off his orgasm long enough to get you falling apart on top of him. He’ll aim for your clit and will sometimes bring a finger up to gently rub and curl against your walls, anything to get you shaking and moaning his name. (Plus, if he gets you wet enough, your slick will actually drip down onto his face - he fucking loves this, because it feels like you’re showering him with evidence of how well he’s touching you, coating his face with your slick because you want him to know that what he’s doing is enough.) He likes the way you gasp and struggle to stay consistent around him when he’s touching you like this, and feeling your fingers tremble as they stroke him and squeeze at his balls makes him sigh and buck his hips slightly. If he gets close, however, and feels like he can’t hold off any longer, his free hand will come down and hold your head in place while he thrusts up into your mouth, balls slapping against your nose as he fucks your face to his heart’s content. He just likes the intimacy of this position, and you’ll find yourself in it very often - especially towards the beginning of your ‘relationship’.

He’s just barely over five inches, but he’s pretty thick. It’s girthy, and when you first see it, the first thing you think of is how the hell he’s going to fit something that wide inside of you. It’s always a pink rosy color, even when he’s not hard, and although he’s embarrassed at first, he actually really likes having domestic moments with you where you see his cock both erect and flaccid - it makes him feel closer to you. (Plus, it normally only takes mere moments for it to go from soft to hard when you’re involved, which is what tends to happen nine times out of ten.) He doesn’t do a very good job of grooming himself, and takes pretty much no time to actually shave or trim or anything of the sort. It’s a bit of a mess down there, but he showers often so it all smells good and is clean. He doesn’t want you to shave or trim either - he firmly believes sex should be natural, and he wants to see you as you are, not as you present yourself. He’s decently sensitive, and while he’s got a bit of experience, he can get overwhelmed pretty easily when he’s inside you. He twitches a lot, especially once he’s settled between your walls - you can feel him moving inside you, bobbing and spasming as he gets closer to his orgasm, and sometimes his whole body shakes in time with them. It’s nice, actually, because it makes it easy to identify what kind of dirty talk gets to him - the moment you let any sort of praise slip past your tongue, he’s twitching and throbbing inside of you, acting as encouragement to get you saying more, to tell him that he feels good and that he’s gonna make me come ‘Hiro, please please please! (Begging normally gets him throbbing, too.)

He shoots, and there’s quite a bit of force behind the stream - it feels like the perfect amount of pressure in a shower, and he’ll always force himself to keep his eyes open so he can watch the way it spurts out of him and lands in ropes on your pretty body. His cum actually tastes surprisingly sweet, given how poor his diet is. It’s on the saltier side, but it’s nothing too outrageous. (You told him that once and he made some joke about how it would make the perfect replacement for that salt shaker that always seems to run out. You didn’t find the joke particularly funny, but the thought lingers in his mind for a while, and suddenly he can’t stop imagining the way you’d look actually eating his cum, not even in a sexual context. The thought makes him flush and have to clear his throat, but he can’t deny the allure.) This is great news for you, because Takahiro loves to come in your mouth. There’s something so dirty about seeing his cum dripping from the corners of your lips, down your chin, your pretty pink tongue coming out to lick it all up - and oh, if you hum or moan at the taste? He’ll melt, a few droplets of whatever remaining cum his body can scrounge up landing on your face without any warning. He’s a moaner, and while it embarrasses him, his voice always gets high when he gets close to coming, sounding less like moaning and more like whining and whimpering. He’ll always try to bury his face in whatever surface is closest by, though he tends to prefer your breasts or the small of your back, whichever is accessible. The moment he’s actually coming, though, he’ll always pull back to watch, because even being a fully grown adult man, he’s still in awe of how your body just seems to affect his, almost like you’re pulling the cum out of him with how hard he orgasms.

His favorite way for you to touch him is when you ride him. He’s not necessarily lazy in bed, but he likes to watch you and let you do most of the work until he needs to step in. He’ll lay back with his head on some pillows and let you straddle him, your cute tummy and pretty tits on display as you slowly slide down onto him. He likes when you grind a bit on him first, your folds rubbing and massaging against his length, and if you watch his tip you’ll see a copious amount of precum oozing out, showcasing his steadily growing desperation to get inside you. Once you slip him past your tight entrance and he bottoms out inside you, he’ll sigh and pinch at your hips, his voice cocky as he tells you to get on with it baby, wanna feel you bouncing on me like a good little slut. It’s uncharacteristic, with how most of his tendencies in the bedroom tend to air on the more submissive side, but the moment you’re actually moving? Well, all traces of cockiness and dominance are gone - he’s gripping onto your thighs for dear life, eyes fixated on the way your breasts bounce and jiggle, maybe even smacking against your ribcage if they’re big enough. He likes the way he’s able to get deeper inside you like this, the penetration going further and making you cry out his name because you just feel so damn full. He’ll stare and watch you, his cheeks bright red, unable to focus on anything except your body and the way his orgasm is drawing nearer and nearer, and eventually he’ll get close enough that he needs to take control. He’ll sit up and wrap his arms around your waist, face pressed against your chest and maybe even a nipple in his mouth as he moves you up and down like some glorified sex doll. He’ll control your body fully, his own hips snapping up to meet yours in a crazed chase of his orgasm, until finally it hits, and he’s moaning your name and his balls are pulsing against your ass as warm cum floods you. He likes the vulnerability of this position, the way he can be touching so much of you at once, and because he gets to see all of you, even the parts of you that you try to hide in other positions. (Like that cute stomach of yours or the fat of your thighs.) You just look sexy, and the way you pulse and clench down onto him like a fucking vice when you reach your own high only spurs him on, desperation for round two and three and four hitting him like a truck.

He’s a little under five inches, but he’s mean with it. He doesn’t have much experience, but he’s nursed a small porn addiction for most of his life, and although he knows porn isn’t realistic, he can’t help but fuck into you with reckless abandon every time he’s got you naked in front of him. He’s not too terribly thick, but he’s veiny, to the point where he almost looks like those veiny dildos you can get online. His tip is extremely sensitive - swiping your thumb across his slit or squeezing at the head makes him splutter, his cheeks turning bright red as his hips jerk forward. It’s easy to turn him on, because he’s really bad at hiding when he’s aroused. Seeing you in anything form fitting will make him feel hot and have him alternating between averting his eyes and staring at every inch of you, but the real nail in the coffin for him is when you touch him in falsely innocent ways. Place a palm to his chest and smile at him and he’s immediately hard, or run your hand over his hair and he’s practically panting, unable to stop imagining the way you’d grip at his hair and beg him for more when he’s got his face between your legs. He gets hard easily, but he’s normally able to make it go away pretty easily too, but his face stays this rich red color and he gets more skittish around you than normal, so you’ll be able to tell ninety percent of the time. He’s actually pretty meticulous about upkeep - he’s not clean shaven but the hair is very short, perfectly trimmed so that you have unrestricted access to everything below his belt. He does this both because it makes him feel cleaner, and also because he wants to be as enticing to you as possible so that you’ll be more inclined to touch him. He’d gotten drunk one night in his early twenties and decreed that he’d be getting his dick pierced, and a buddy had gotten it on video, and he wouldn’t let his pride be wounded, so now he’s got a Prince Albert piercing on his tip. It hurt like hell, but he really likes the way it feels inside you - it makes him more sensitive, he thinks, and you always seem to squirm when you feel the cold metal, the extra stimulation making you moan and clench even harder around him.

His cum is thick and there’s a lot of it. It doesn’t taste great, and the first time you tasted it you couldn’t help but grimace slightly. Kentarou noticed, and while he didn’t say anything about it, he’s been trying to alter his diet to include more foods he’s read help sweeten the taste of cum. He prefers to finish on your body rather than in you, but he’ll never not finish inside you if that’s what you want. Really, if you ask him to finish anywhere specific, he’ll do it in a heartbeat, excited that you want it. He just likes the way you look with it smeared across your skin - again, that porn addiction has left him with a bit of an objectification kink, and while he doesn’t view you as simply a toy for him to fuck, there’s something that quells his possessiveness towards you when he’s covering you with his seed. He tries to avoid coming in your mouth though, just because he doesn’t want to see you grimace like that again. When he’s fucking you, he doesn’t usually say much, but he isn’t super quiet - he grunts a lot, always sounding a little bit like he’s in pain, and he keeps his eyes tightly closed for much of it. He’ll mutter your name under his breath, too, but it’s quiet enough that unless his mouth is close to your ear you won’t be able to distinguish what he’s saying. But as he gets closer to coming, those grunts turn more into growls, and right as he’s on the edge, he’s literally growling your name, along with slurred fuck’s and yeah’s and too damn tight’s. He’s not too expressive, but if his orgasm is particularly powerful he’ll end up sinking his teeth into the skin of your shoulder - not enough to break the skin or hurt, but enough to leave a mark when he pulls away, and enough to muffle the moan that bubbles up in the back of his throat. His whole body tremors when he’s coming, everything from his fingertips to his toes trembling and shaking slightly, the force of his orgasm nearly blowing him away. It takes him a long time to actually finish coming once it starts, too - he comes so much that it just never seems to end, him emptying into you for easily twenty seconds before the last few drops finally come out.

His favorite way for you to touch him is when you take your time and just absolutely worship his cock. He’s never been embarrassed of his body or anything, but he likes the idea of being soft with you, and while he’s just a bit too awkward to take the time and worship your body, he likes when you do it to him. (It’s not that he doesn’t want to worship yours - he does, absolutely, more than you could ever understand. But putting himself into that position where you’re watching his every move and judging him, letting him explore and pleasure you and do whatever he wants with you makes him nervous, the pressure settling on his shoulders to do well making him chicken out at the last second. But when it’s you worshiping him, he can just sit back and watch, letting you do your magic until he’s eventually gasping your name and getting cum all over himself as you fist him and press kisses against his thighs.) It feels like such an intimate moment, and it helps convince him that you actually like him, that you’re actually returning the love he’s so frantically forcing onto you. He wants you to keep eye contact the whole time, looking up at him from your place on your knees, his own body seated in a chair with his legs spread so you have easier access. He wants you to kiss every inch of him, your soft lips pressing against his thigh, balls, cock, navel, everything you can reach. He wants you to pump slowly, telling him how warm he feels in your hands, how he’s so big and makes you feel so good, the compliments flowing off your tongue like sugar and making his face turn bright red. He wants you to suckle on his tip and lick along his slit, teasing him with not quite enough pressure, telling him how good it feels when he brushes against that certain spot inside you that makes you see stars. He wants you to squeeze and touch his balls, telling him how these always make you feel so full, they fill me up so well, Kentarou, I love it when you come in me. He just wants you to praise him and touch him all softly and slowly, showing him that you really love him. Give him hope that his one-sided feelings might be more reciprocated than he seems to think.

It’s solidly five inches, and curves very slightly to the left. He’s confident enough with it, but Yuutarou finds himself wishing he was just a bit longer, just a bit thicker, just a bit more. He spends a lot of time looking at himself in the mirror, and especially once his feelings for you form, he’s always idly wondering what you’d think of him. It’s a pale color, and when he gets hard it turns a gradient of pink down to his tip, where it’s flushed and always swollen within seconds of blood rushing south. He keeps himself clean shaven because he doesn’t want you to be grossed out when he eventually has you in front of him, naked and yearning for his touch. He wants everything to be clean and attractive and perfect, because the first time he gets to touch you and fuck you, everything has to go perfectly. He’s decently sensitive, and he especially likes it when you pay attention to his base. Gripping him there and idly squeezing while you talk to him will make him breathless and light headed, his voice strained and tight when you ask him if he’s wanting to fuck me? Do you want that, Yuutarou? Do you want to make me a mess on your cock? You’re so dirty when you talk to him like that, but it drives him crazy - and when you grip him tighter and tighter and tighter, it only furthers the feeling. He likes it, too, because your hand almost acts as a sort of cock ring, barring him from accidentally coming much too early - something that’s happened often when he was still left to his own devices with only the thought of you and his pillow to work with.

His cum is watery and there’s not a huge amount of it. He comes pretty easily, all things considered, but he has a decently short recovery time, and if the worst case scenario occurs (he comes before you), he’s immediately getting onto his stomach and diving between your legs, tongue eagerly working at your clit and his fingers slipping past your swollen folds to curl and rub at you until you’re moaning and clutching onto the pillow under your head. He’ll let himself calm down, and within five minutes he’s normally able to get hard again, and while this time he’ll likely be shooting a blank, he will keep fucking you until you come for him - and this time he’ll have his thumb working at your sensitive little clit the whole time, his pride out the window because he needs you to come, dammit. When he comes he makes this weird little half-shout half-groan, the sound loud and a little bit jarring. He tries to keep quiet for the most part during sex, because no matter how many times you try to tell him that you like his noises, he’s too embarrassed to freely let them out. Besides, he’d rather hear you anyways. But when he’s getting close, he does tend to start blabbering, his voice slurred and the words coming out so quickly that they’re hard to understand. He’s trying to get every thought out in those last few seconds before he comes, because he has all these compliments and sweet nothings that come to mind when he’s fucking you, but he’s too engrossed in the moment and nervous to actually say them, so he waits until the last moment and all you can hear is y’so tight ‘n good, ‘m gonna come in you, fuck let me come, y’so pretty when you’re drippin’ with me and fuck fuck fuck, here it comes take it take it take it-! He writhes when he comes, unable to stay still, his muscles flexing and relaxing over and over again, leaving him to shake on top of you and then promptly collapse onto you. He’s exhausted after he comes, but he’s still attentive to your needs, and even if he’s on the edge of passing out, he’ll make sure to get his fingers stuffed inside you and his lips on your nipples, absolutely anything to guarantee you’re feeling good.

His favorite way for you to touch him is when you take control. He’s always a little doubtful of his own abilities, nervous that he’ll do something that you don’t like, even though you aren’t the first girl he’s slept with. He’s just a bit paranoid that he’ll make a mistake and eliminate any form of attraction you feel for him, and so he likes it best when you take the wheel, pushing him onto his back and climbing on top of him, leaning down to kiss him and suck hickies into his neck. He likes when you grind on him, your hips moving against his in circles, your very thin panties (that he’d picked out, with a red face, the last time he’d visited a lingerie shop, having bought a few sets for you after learning your panty and bra size) rubbing up against his boxers, the navy material already stained a darker blue with a copious amount of precum. He wants you to move his hands for him, your grinding never stopping as you situate his large palms against your breasts (already bare, your - his - t-shirt haven’t been discarded across the room), squeezing over his hands to encourage him. He wants you to slowly sink down on him, before setting up a brutal pace, bouncing on top of him with reckless abandon while you smile down at him and hold eye contact. He wants you to move his hands to grope at your ass, while you reach behind you to play with his balls, squeezing lightly and feeling the way he tenses up and warbles your name. He wants you to suddenly switch your positioning, so that you’re facing away from him, your ass exposed to his prying eyes while you roll your hips again, the new angle making access to squeezing his thighs easier. He just wants you to manhandle him, really, because while he may be well over six feet tall and is finishing up his collegiate studies, he’s nothing more than putty in your hands, eager to do anything and everything you want.

He’s roughly five inches, with a moderate girth. Overall, he’s thoroughly average - tufts of brown, curly hair sit at his base and a vein or two decorates his shaft, which slims out a bit as it extends, ending in a round, mushroom-shaped tip that’s always covered by pretty, pink foreskin. He produces a lot of precum, to the point where once you get your hands on him, you’ll be surprised to feel that it’s almost like he’s already slicked himself up with lube. There’s just so much of it - but that’s because once Akira gets hard, he stays hard. No matter how hard he tries to distract himself or will away his erection, it takes at least fifteen minutes for it to go away. Even after he comes, he stays hard for a while - he gets oversensitive very easily, so he’ll try to swat your hand away if you reach for it when it’s still coming down after his release, but secretly he hopes you’ll reach for it again because he’ll begrudgingly let it happen the second time, content and pleased that you want to keep touching him. He stays hard, but actually takes him quite a bit to get hard - even with you, the woman he finds so sexually arousing and desirable that it makes him sick sometimes, he has to have a good mix of stimulation and thoughts to get him ready to go. Generally, if you want to get his cock swelling up and turning a deep pink color, kiss his neck and palm over his crotch, whispering his name in the most sultry voice you can manage, maybe even flicking even lightly biting his earlobe as you whisper into it. He’s not too sensitive, and because of this he tends to last a long time in bed, to the point where if he’s really concentrated and you’re in the right mood, he’ll get you to orgasm at least three times before he gets close. He doesn’t groom himself all that much, figuring that if you really have a problem with it you’ll let him know, and while he keeps everything clean and sanitary, sometimes you end up with a bit of hair in your mouth when you’re sucking him off.

He doesn’t produce a huge amount of cum, but it’s decent tasting, enough so that you genuinely don’t mind swallowing it. This is good news, because Akira really, really likes when you give him head. His favorite place to come is definitely your mouth, and the feeling of your lips and tongue against him are often the quickest way to get him to orgasm. He’s a fan of pushing himself as deeply into your mouth as he can and then releasing, so that all of it goes directly down your throat, because he likes the idea of his cum being in you, even more than just in your cunt. He’s also satisfied with pulling back and coming all over your face, because while it isn’t quite as satisfying as finishing in your mouth, there’s still something lewd and dirty about it, especially if you open your mouth and let your tongue loll out. He’s pretty quiet in bed, mostly just breathing hard or muttering commands under his breath - they’re never too harsh, just things like keep going or say that again. But when he comes, he takes this long, harsh inhale - it’s not quite a gasp, but it sounds too uneven and heavy to be a normal breath. He’s not one to moan too much naturally, but he tries to push down any sort of noise if possible because he doesn’t want to turn you off in case you don’t like it - even if you try to reassure him, he doesn’t really believe you, and he’ll still do the long-inhale-thing rather than let out the little whimper he really needs to. His whole body jerks when he comes, and this normally ends up lodging him even deeper into whatever hole he’s buried in, which adds extra stimulation to his already sensitive cock, making him hiss and grit his teeth. His face gets red as he gets close, too, and it’s a telltale sign that he’s feeling good when his cheeks start blooming pink, all the way down to his neck and over his collarbones. He gets sweaty, too, exertion and holding back any sounds taking a lot of effort, and often his bangs will get stuck to his forehead.

Akira’s favorite way for you to touch him is when you take his cock into your mouth. There’s something about the power dynamic that gets to him, because while he doesn’t inherently view himself as any better than you (he may not show it, but he worships the ground you walk on, if all the stalking and tedious collecting of your information are anything to consider), something just feels right when you’re suckling on him like that, your pretty eyes sparkling up at him through your lashes and tears pricking at your lash line every time you take him just a bit too far down your throat. There’s something endearing about the way that you take him so well, relaxing your throat and bobbing your head over and over, and he especially loves it when you get messy. He likes your spit to be everywhere, dripping down his shaft and onto his balls, dribbling down your chin, just getting everything wet and sticky. He likes the sight of you pulling back and panting hard, a thin strand of saliva and precum connecting his tip to your lip, the sight making him gulp and clutch onto the corner of the chair he’s seated in so tightly that his knuckles turn white. He likes the way your lips are so soft against him, how your tongue is wet and warm and so very dexterous, licking around his tip and dipping in against his slit. He just likes the way you give him so much attention when you’re using your mouth; it makes him feel special and pleased that all your time and effort is going into him, to please him and make him feel good. And if you were to reach down between your legs, your fingers playing with your clit while you bob your head and use your other hand to lightly grope at his balls? Well, hopefully you take getting your throat fucked as well as you do bobbing your head, because the mere sight will have him losing control and needing to fuck something, and your pretty little face is the nearest thing.

#yandere haikyuu #yandere oikawa #yandere iwaizumi #yandere matsukawa #yandere hanamaki #yandere kyoutani #yandere kindaichi #yandere kunimi #haikyuu smut #_haikyuu #_lee's headcannons #_tooru oikawa #_hajime iwaizumi #_issei matsukawa #_takahiro hanamaki #_kentarou kyoutani #_yuutarou kindaichi #_akira kunimi

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eatmyassssssssz · 10 months

Note

Bestie

How do you think the 141 boys + könig dicks look like? And how big and thick they are. Please please please

Asking for a friend

No I'm not I'm asking for me cause I'm a hoe

lilsy poopoo face. of course i will do this for you. SO.

onto the lads.

okay, so, warning for all you anons out there that keep on telling me i should die for writing smut.

warnings: peni (plural for penis'), detail, a lot of it.

SIMON. 'ghost'. RILEY.

🏷🏷🏷🏷🏷🏷🏷🏷🏷🏷🏷🏷

🍁 show-er or grower?

i believe good ol si is a grower. every single inch is used to it full potential though, don't you worry...

🍂cut or uncut?

uncut but would prefer to be cut but obviously is too late for that.

🌺 girth

the normal amount. i mean, the average is about 4.6cm in the uk, i think si has about 5.2cm. a little over but not by a stupid amount.

🌷 width

i honestly don't think hes packing as much as a horse as people say! i mean, it just don't make sense for this guy to be shclingin round a 12 incher like yall are sayin. i think its more 6.3 inches. the average is 5.7 (ish) so hes still packin more than average! thats when hes fully hard, his flaccid is about 4.7 inches.

🏷 extras:

i feel like hes had a piercing down there at least at one time. up to you if you want him still to have it, but i think he had, at one time, a jacobs ladder.

JOHNNY 'SOAP' MACTAVISH

🧼🧼🧼🧼🧼🧼🧼🧼🧼🧼🧼🧼

🍁 show-er or grower?

show-er. i just..hes definitely a show-er, no one can change my mind.

🍂 cut or uncut?

cut. no doubt about it.

🌺 girth

normal girth, I'd say. about 4.6 inches. nothing special doesn't mean hes not special in bed.

🌷 width

now..i widly disagree with yall saying that soap's average. i think he's packing quite a bit. 7.3 inches.

🧼 extras:

he cums a LOT. like, a weird amount.

JOHN PRICE

🚬🎀🚬🎀🚬🎀🚬🎀🚬🎀🚬🎀

🍁 shower or grower?

grower. most. fucking. definitely.

🍂 uncut or cut?

people may disagree with me on this, but i think uncut. he vastly prefers it that way as well.

🌺 girth

HOLY FUCK HES A PUSSY STRETCHER. like, worryingly thick dick disorder. 5.9 inches.

🌷 width

nothing outside the norm, particularly. i mean, its just unfair to be very thick AND long...anyways, i dont care, price is shlingin it. 5.9 at least. 4.5 flaccid.

💰 extras: his cum is STICKY. very sticky.

KYLE 'GAZ' GARRICK

🚁🚁🚁🚁🚁🚁🚁🚁🚁🚁🚁🚁

im sorry i had to use the helicopters..

🍁 show-er or grower?

middle area. right inbetween.

🍂 uncut or cut?

cut. doesnt really like it though. much would prefer to be uncut but oh well, he works with it.

🌺 girth

not overtly girthy. 4.3. he makes up for it with his technique, ect.

🌷 width

hmmm a straight sixer. 6.0 inches. the perfect amount.

🚁 extras:

he had a happy trail but shaved it when he got with you. hes slowly growing it back as you begged and begged.

KÖNIG

👕👕👕👕👕👕👕👕👕👕👕👕

his eyes are so pretty.

🍁 grow-er or shower?

hes just generally big.

🍂 cut or uncut?

i think uncut.

🌺 girth

hes a big lad, everythings a bit bigger. 5.7.

🌷 width

again, because he's 6'10, everythings a bit sized up. 6.8 inches!!

tags:

@lillianastuff @lucyisdoingfine @madamemelancholysstuff @mionacaped @a-small-writer-in-a-big-world @ashiscool10 @vangoghcoffeeco @southernbluebellereader

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flowersandbigteeth · 4 months

Note

A Heath the Gargoyle part 2? It’s going to be the 1 year anniversary for his story soon (you posted Dec. 29 2022) and I’d love to see the couple’s relationship in a more established/long term phase. Maybe Heath is getting ready to propose so Y/N doesnt end up “dying alone eaten by local strays”?

I can't believe it's been a whole freaking year!!! Time goes soooo fast! Okay, I didn't make it the 29th...but I'm close ^_^

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Gargoyle (Heath) x F reader

Word Count: 3.5 K

General Plot: You and Heath go to a childhood friend's New Years Party.

Previous Parts

TW: nsfw gargoyle smut, extremally awkward party conversation, p in v sex, flying and being in high places if heights bothers you, discussion of depression, hurt comfort dynamic

“Are you sure this looks good?” Heath asked you, shifting on his feet and plucking at the silver tie you’d fastened to his neck to match your sparkly dress.

“It's perfect!” You beamed, smiling up at him and swatting his hand. “Don't look so nervous!”

“I don't want to embarrass you,” he said, uncharacteristically shy.

You snorted.

“I’m more worried about the opposite,” you sighed. “Just…take anything they say with a grain of salt.”

“What does that mean?” He asked.

“Grace and I have been friends since we were kids because my mom works for her dad’s company…I kind of had to be her friend. Don't get me wrong, we were really close when we were kids,” you said. “But now I only see her for her annual New Year's party for my mom's sake. It's all I can stomach…how do I say this…she's kind of…competitive….You'll see.”

The two of you stood on the doorstep of her boyfriend’s obnoxiously large house, the sound of the party inside filling the chilly night air. You wore a sparkly dress, and Heath a sharp suit customized to fit his wings.

“Maybe they didn't hear me.”

You hit the doorbell again, and it let out a hollow DING.

“I’ve got it!” Someone shouted behind the door.

You heard the sound of footsteps, and the door swung open to reveal Grace's boyfriend Mark.

He was a better than average looking guy with blonde hair cut in a trendy style, wearing an expensive suit.

“Well…hello!” Mark said, his head tipping back to meet Heath’s eyes. “You’re…”

His mouth hung open for a moment, at a loss for words, then they both spoke at once.

“Heath.”

“Huge.”

There was an awkward pause before you stepped forward and hugged Mark.

“Thanks for having us over, Mark!” You beamed, shoving a bottle of champagne in his hand.

Mark blinked for a moment as you pushed past him, pulling Heath behind you.

“Grace’s in the kitchen!” He called after the two of you as he shut the door.

“Hiiii!” Grace squealed as you pushed through partygoers to get to the kitchen.

It wasn’t particularly difficult since Heath was bigger, harder, and wider than anyone in the room.

Grace looked beautiful, dressed in a glittery champagne bodycon dress. She'd always been lithe, her profile spruced up by a new pair of boobs Mark had bought her.

As usual, her party was perfect, every detail considered. There was a bartender wearing a bow tie serving drinks, the perfect music playing, and fresh flower arrangements everywhere.

All the furniture had been removed to create a dance floor, and someone had specially designed gold lights to set the mood.

“So this is the man himself!” Grace exclaimed, looking up at Heath with wide eyes.

“Gargoyle,” you corrected.

“Right! Right! Henry, wasn't it?”

Heath gave her a humble smile and stuck out a hand to shake hers.

“Heath. Nice to meet one of (Y/N)’s friends.”

She held his hand a moment too long before she dropped it.

“(Y/N), shame on you for keeping him hidden away!”

You blushed and put a hand on Heath’s arm, unsure what to say. The two of you had been half hibernating for the winter. You tended to get a bit of depression during the cold, dark months. Heath was more than happy to snuggle up with you and his fluffy little cat Aero and cuddle, which is all you really wanted to do from November to April.

People usually imagined gargoyles sitting stoically in the snow and menacing passerbys, but Heath liked to nest, tucking you both in piles of warm blankets and reading to you while you shared snacks.

Her eyes traveled from the tip of his folded wings, down the trim suit was wearing, to his clawed feet.

“I can see why,” she went on, her mouth hanging open for a moment before she caught herself. “I'm so glad you two came!”

“I've been missing my best friend! Let's get you some drinks!” she squealed, leading you out of the kitchen.

Heath glanced down at you and raised an eyebrow.

“Best friend?” He mouthed at you, and you shrugged.

“Pomegranate martinis for us,” she said to the man behind the bar.

“What do you like to drink, Heath?” Mark asked, appearing with the bottle of champagne you'd brought and handing it to the bartender.

“Whatever you've got with Whiskey.”

“Gotcha, big guy,” the bartender said, tossing bottles elegantly as he made the drinks.

When you were all set up with beverages, Lily led you out onto her back patio.

“Look at this,” you said, taking in the beautiful outdoor space. “You've been hard at work! It's beautiful out here!”

She'd put in layers of neatly trimmed flowers and bushes, which were dusted in snow. White lounges were arranged to make comfortable seating areas warmed by blue glass fire pits. The massive pool glowed, steam drifting up from its surface. It looked like it had come straight out of a magazine.

“Isn't it? Mark got the best landscaper in the state! I'll give you his card!”

She frowned at you.

“Oh, you're still in that icky old apartment, aren't you?” she asked. "You've got to get out of that place. Aren't you afraid of mold? It's terrible for your complexion."

“(Y/N) lives with me. Gargoyles like high places, so I have a flat downtown,” Heath corrected her, then smiled down at you. “Though the only plants we have are potted.”

“Heath is really good with plants,” you said, smiling back at him with warmth. “He’s made us a whole jungle on the balcony!”

“Hmm,” Grace hummed, eyes dropping to Heath’s large hands. “You look like you're good with your hands, Heath. You’ll have to come by sometime and give me some lessons.”

Heath’s eyebrows rose, glancing down at you for help.

“How’s work going, Mark?” You asked to change the subject.

“Mark got a promotion,” Grace said before he could answer. “He's a senior account manager at Dawson and Shields.”

“Congratulations, Mark,” you said politely.

He raised his drink and put a possessive arm over Grace’s shoulder.

Before anyone could speak, one of Grace’s’s friends practically ran towards you, eyes on your hulking boyfriend.

“(Y/N)!” Mary wailed, throwing her arms around you in a way she’d never done before.

“Oh…Oof!” you gasped, catching her weight. “Uh…nice to see you again, Mary. This is my boyfriend, Heath.”

He put his hand out to shake hers, but she shoved her body past it, attempting to plaster herself to his chest.

“We do hugs here!” Mary brayed.

He took an awkward step backward, gently pushing Mary off of him with one large hand.

“Sorry,” he said, tapping his nose. “Your perfume. My kind is very sensitive to scent.”

He folded his big body down and tucked his nose into the spot where your neck met your shoulder, tapping a small kiss into your skin and subtly sniffing your neck as if he was cleansing his pallet.

Mary’s face turned bright red, and she took a step back.

“Are you still working at that bookstore?” Grace asked, filling the awkward silence.

Before you could answer, she turned to Heath.

“I've been trying to tell (Y/N) it's time to get a grown-up job for years now. I mean, who works minimum wage at some shabby little bookstore at our age, don't you think?”

Heath glanced at you and tipped his head to the side in a way you recognized as annoyance, though didn't look it. He took a sip of his drink to hide his frown.

“What do you do, Grace?” He asked when he’d straightened his face.

Excited to talk about herself, she went on, her hands waving around as she talked.

“I'm a beauty influencer!” she said.

“Beauty…influencer?” Heath asked. “I'm not sure I know what that means.”

She stuck out her chest to show off the Chanel necklace resting just above her cleavage.

“I model jewelry, makeup, and nails,” she said. “Then I do reviews on all the products!”

“Oh..uh…neat,” he said, trying to be friendly for your sake.“I didn't know that was a job. Do the brands pay you?”

Her bright smile fell for just a moment before she plastered it back on.

“Well…No, but I'm hoping to get some sponsorships this year!” She said. “I have 1,000 followers on TikTok!”

Heath gave her a blank look.

“Tik… Tok?” He asked, glancing down at you for guidance.

“Um…it started as an app for teenagers to lip-sync popular songs, but now lots of people use it!” you explained.

He raised his eyebrows but was at a loss for words.

“What do you do for work, Heath?” Mark asked.

“I own a shabby little bookstore,” he said before taking a long drag of his drink.

“Oh!” Grace said with a stilted smile.

There was another incredibly awkward silence.

“Well, I think that's wonderful!” Mary cheered, squeezing his elbow. “There aren't enough brick-and-mortar stores these days! Everything is online!”

Heath brightened, though he took a half step away from Mary.

“We do a lot of online business, as well.”

He brushed his heavy hand over your hair, affectionately.

“We?” Grace asked.

“I made (Y/N) my co-owner.”

“Wow, sleeping with the boss, (Y/N),” Mary snickered. “I never thought you had it in you.”

You blushed, but Heath folded you under his arm.

“It’s the other way around,” Heath chuckled, brushing his thumb over your bare shoulder as he spoke. “(Y/N) is the boss. She’s got more of a mind for business than me. I'm just a book nerd, but she’s a marketing genius. Sales were dropping the year before last, so she managed to turn the store into more of a destination. Since she took over things, we've started focusing on hard-to-find antiques and hosting auction events. Profits have quadrupled.”

“Oh!” Mark said, snapping his fingers. “Of course! You own Gargoyle Book Gallery! That's a legend! My boss loves antique books...first editions and all that. He raves about your spot all the time!”

Heath tipped his drink at Mark.

“Donny Shields, right? He comes by for poker night.”

“Poker night?” Mark asked.

Heath nodded.

“Some guys from the Business League come over on Saturdays to play a couple of hands of poker and shoot the shit,” he explained.

Mark’s eyebrows shot up.

“I'd love to get in on that!” He said, eyes almost green with envy. "Can't imagine the conversations over that table!"

Heath shrugged.

“We’ve got a full table now, but if a spot opens up, I’ll ask the guys,” he said.

Grace decided too much time had passed without anyone paying attention to her.

“Now that Mark is on track to be partner, we are going to buy a new house!” she said. “I don’t understand how you can stand to live in a tiny apartment!”

Mark looked at her like he did not, in fact, want to buy a new house.

“We’re still discussing it,” he said.

Grace smacked him on the arm.

“Don’t be silly, Mark,” she said. “With your raise, we can afford something bigger!”

“I mean, I spend a lot of money on your stuff for TikTok, Grace,” he murmured. “Maybe if you were pulling in some revenue-”

Grace smacked him again, harder this time, and gave him a look that said, “Shut up if you know what’s good for you.”

“This place is really nice,” Heath offered Mark, trying to be diplomatic. “Plenty of room for a family.”

They both spoke at once.

“We aren’t starting a family.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought when I bought it.”

You and Heath glanced at one another and took long sips of your drinks.

“I have my career to think of!” Grace said while Mark found somewhere else to look.

“That’s a pity. You’d be a great mom!” Mary said. “You could be a mommy blogger. Your fans would love that. You and Mark would have beautiful babies.”

“Of course. We have excellent genes,” Grace said, enjoying being complimented.

Her eyes slid mischievously to you.

“What about you two?” she asked. “Are you thinking of starting a family?”

You and Heath’s eyes met.

“Maybe,” Heath said. “If you want to.”

Your cheeks warmed, but not from embarrassment.

“I’d like that,” you said.

Grace frowned.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” she asked.

The two of you looked at her, confused.

“You know, because of your mental illness. You wouldn’t want to pass that on to your kids…and how can you be a good mom with depression?”

Your heart dropped, and tears flooded your eyes. It shouldn’t have gotten to you. You knew how Grace was, but it still hurt. It was something you’d always felt a little insecure about.

Heath’s mouth fell open, and he shoved his glass into Mark’s hand.

“It was nice to meet you, Mark,” he said before he scooped you up in his arms, and with a heavy pump of his wings, the two of you shot up into the night sky.

He flew a couple of blocks away, before he stopped and hovered in place.

Tears slid down your cheeks, leaving an icy streak as they cooled.

“Are you okay?” Heath asked as the two of you hung suspended in the cold December air.

You sniffled, wiping your tears.

“Yeah…I told you…Grace is competitive. She doesn’t like anyone looking better than her,” you whimpered.

You felt a low growl in his chest.

“That’s no excuse,” he said. “I think you’ll be a great mom. I’m not the least bit worried.”

“But what if she’s right?” you asked. “What if I’m a terrible mom? What if my kids are messed up or something?”

Heath let out a chuff with no humor.

“That’s nonsense, teacup,” he said. “Depression is pretty common…and you manage yours just fine. Nobody is a perfect parent, and everyone has different challenges. Grace sounds like some kind of eugenicist. It’s creepy, to be honest.”

“Are you sure?” you asked. “You don’t wish you had a perfect girlfriend like Grace?”

Heath laughed out loud.

“Grace is not the perfect girlfriend. Sooo far from it. I kind of feel bad for Mark, to be honest,” he said. “You on the other hand…”

He tucked his head in the crook of your neck, smattering kisses over the skin.

“You are smart…sweet…patient…incredibly patient,” he whispered, kissing you or nibbling with each word. “I have no idea how you put up with that woman.”

“You get used to it,” you murmured.

He tipped your face up to his.

“I don’t want you to get used to that kind of meanness,” he said. “I don’t want to control who you see…but I don’t like them. I’d rather spend the rest of New Year's with you if that’s okay, not some snobby weirdos.”

He adjusted you in his arms, nudging you to loop your legs around his waist. You pressed yourself against his warm body to chase away the chill of the night air. With one arm holding you to him, he cupped the nape of your neck, guiding your lips to his with the other.

He tasted like oaky whiskey, making your mouth water. His heavy kisses chased any thoughts of Grace or the party away.

Hovering in the inky night with the twinkling lights of the city sparkling in every direction, your only focus was Heath’s thick hand holding you securely in place and his lips on yours.

You ground your hips into his body, delighted to feel his hardening shaft meet your core.

His hand slipped down your neck, tugging the front of your dress down with a stiff jerk. The straps snapped, and your breasts tumbled out.

“Heath,” you gasped, but he hushed you with another deep kiss before speaking.

“It’s dark. No one can see us. Let me make you feel good.”

He dipped his head, drawing a peaked nipple into his mouth. The contrast of his hot tongue and the chilly air made you quake. He licked and sucked one nipple and then the other until you’d completely forgotten everything going on below. Your world shrank to just Heath and all the decadent things he could do to your body.

Your head fell back, pleasure snaking up and down your spine as he delighted you. Thick fingers roughly shoved the skirt of your dress up your thighs, and he traced your slit, growling at how wet you were for him. Another swift jerk and your shredded panties were fluttering a hundred feet down to the snowy earth.

You gasped his name, but he was high on your scent and taste, wholly focused on giving you pleasure. He screwed two fingers inside of you, opening you up for him. You let out a needy whimper when they pulled out for a moment but were quickly replaced with his tail, thrusting in and out of you.

You hardly heard the buzz of his zipper, your eyes rolling back in your head. With a tight thrust of his hips, his tail slipped away, and his thick cock filled you. He clutched your ass with a deep, satisfied grunt.

A hundred feet up in the sky, you didn’t dare unhook your arms from around his neck, so you were at his mercy as he slammed his shaft into you. You bleated lusty yelps with every smack of his heavy balls against your skin, clinging to him for dear life. You were dizzy from fear blending with pleasure, your breaths ragged gasps. There was nothing between you and falling to your death but Heath’s enormous arms and powerful wings.

“You’re so fucking perfect, (Y/N),” he growled into your ear, practically feral from the way your channel spasmed around his cock. You were tight, wet, hot, and the only woman in the world he wanted. Gripping your ass, he used your cunt like a fleshlight, slamming his cock into you over and over again.

The tip of his naughty tail circled your clit, pushing you closer and closer to your end until there was nowhere else to go, and you went careening over the edge. With the addition of your pussy strangling his cock he couldn’t hold back any longer, his final thrusts savage and bruising.

Your stomach dropped as he lost control of his wings for a moment, and the two of you dipped into a free fall for a few seconds. You felt his searing cum fill you as you screamed into his chest. The confusing sensation of falling and his cum filling your womb slammed you into another unexpected orgasm. You bounced in his arms as he steadied the two of you.

“Heath!” you gasped, your nails digging into his neck.

“It’s okay, teacup, I’ve got you,” he muttered as he titled his wings, and the two of you streaked across the city.

Instead of heading home, he deposited you on the roof of a tall building downtown.

“Wait here,” he said, zipping his fly, and before you could say anything, he swooped away.

When he returned a few minutes later, he was holding a bottle of champagne.

“Where did that come from?” you laughed as he settled next to you and tugged you into his lap.

“I stole it from a party going on down there,” he chuckled. “Don’t worry, they have plenty.”

You giggled, leaning back into his chest, while he popped the top, aiming the spray off of the edge of the building, before tipping a little into your mouth.

There was a pop, and fireworks exploded in the sky across the city.

He turned you around to him, slipping something out of his pocket.

"I wanted to do this tonight...but things didn't go quite as planned..." he said, appearing suddenly nervous.

You tipped your head to the side, confused until he opened the little box in his hand revealing a pretty ring.

"Heath!" you gasped your hand going to your lips.

"(Y/N)," he said. "Since the day I hired you, my world changed. At first it was just a fantasy crush. I mean, as your boss...I felt like it was wrong to act on it...but something about you is irresistible. It was impossible not to fall in love with you. Impossible not to steal you away.

Then we started dating and for awhile, I thought that was enough...but as the year went on...I realized I was happier than I'd ever been and you seemed...happier than I'd ever seen you...So...I want to make this permanent. If...you want that..."

Your eyes danced from the ring up to Heath's eyes. More fireworks bloomed in the sky, and you could see them reflected in Heath’s dark irises.

"Are...you asking me to marry you, Heath?" you asked.

"I guess I forgot the most important question," he said, giving you a shy chuckle. "(Y/N), will you marry me?"

Tears filled your eyes again, but this time for the best reason.

"Yes! Of course! I love you, Heath! I want to be with you forever!" you said.

“I love you, too (Y/N). Happy New Year,” he said quietly, slipping the ring out of the velvet and slipping it on your finger.

“Happy New Year, Heath,” you said tucking your head into his cozy shoulder and watching the fireworks make your engagement ring sparkle.

#monster x girl #monster fucker #monster smut #monster #monster romance #monster x human #monster lover #male yandere #yandere smut #gargoyle #x reader

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