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alexiroflife · 1 month ago

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jjk men as "sinners" vampires... trying to lure you in

MDNI, mentions of violence, ryan coogler's "sinners" film references, angst, vampire!au, slightly gory descriptions, a smidgen of fluff with a whole lot of seduction, uhh mentions of spit in choso's, f|ngering in choso's gulp, suggestive themese, mentions of death, taunting, i'm in a chokehold

gojo, geto, nanami, choso, toji, sukuna

-> sinners changed my life. i don't even have the words. the history, the music, the representation, the cinematography??? BROTHERRRR. my culture is so beautiful and so is bo chow telling grace that he got the car warmed up after he turned and micheal b. jordan with vampire grills, so now i gotta make this a cross-fandom headcanon problem. ya'll this had to be done and it will be done with aot men too.

satoru gojo: "come give me a kiss..."

you know it's not your husband when you catch the flicker of hellfire in his normally, now you particularly realize, virtuous sapphire eyes. in the midst of tonight's horror, he stands so still as a symphony of daunting low humming, celtic triumphance, and the nauseating stench of blood rise into the air and intermix, dancing about in a manifestation of dark chaos. and there your husband is in the doorway, a partner to the horrors with a hand pressed to the frame as shaggy white hair flutters into lidded eyes. eyes that you know are no longer his.

his pink lips curve into a soft, flirtatious smile, one that you have seen time and time again. yet the image you would have sworn you knew like the back of your hand appears foreign to you. something silent, something sinister grasps it, and gone is the man you once knew. gone is the spirit from his gaze and grin, an undead mischief serving in its place.

"what's the matter, baby?"

his smooth voice rumbles into a playful taunt, filtering into your ears like a seductive lament for the dead. a rasping breath subtly catches his words, striking you as something like a predatory animal. your eyes well with tears as you look over satoru's pearly white skin, somehow even paler in the moonlight... he practically glows.

your eyes drift down to the tattered button-up adorning his strapping figure as he crosses an ankle over the other and leans, hovering over you between the invisible barrier protecting you from the outside of the club.

you gulp, tracing the patches of smeared blood over his white fabric with your trembling eyes, over the stains that coat his fingertips. your body shakes, a lump lodging itself in your throat as you are forced into abrupt mourning.

this isn't satoru. this isn't the man you love.

he's dead before you.

"you're looking a little pale," he continues, causing you to snap your eyes back up to his face. he tilts his head as his smirk stretches, dimples poking into his cheek with the subtly baring of his sharpened teeth.

it's strange. you can still feel his desire as he zones in on you, soaking you into his surveillance as he shamelessly admires your features like he wants to ravish you.

however, now, you are sure that he does not intend to ravish you the way you would necessarily hope.

"is my pretty girl not feeling well?” satoru practically bullies you with his tone and his words, for the monster knows exactly why you appear so unsettled before him. he is mentally stripping you down, taking you apart piece by piece, utilizing the love he knows you have for him as well as his love that has charged into hunger as a means to reel you in.

“do you want a kiss to make it all go away? that used to help with anything. i’m certain it’ll help now. aren’t you?”

your heart is hammering with fear, grief, love, and you are afraid to even open your mouth to speak. to make a single movement with your body. satoru has you paralyzed. a spell has been cast over you by some kind of curse, and you are distraught. distraught by the death that has suddenly gripped your husband of two years, and distraught by the fact that you are having a significantly hard time mustering up the strength to walk away from him.

for though his soul has left his body, it still looks like him. it still, to some extent, feels like him. your heart and mind and body still long to react to him as if he is still yours, as if he is still alive and human.

"come on, (y/n)."

and when he calls your name, it is still his voice that rings it, his tongue that your address rolls off of so longingly.

“just step on outside and give me a kiss.”

you must be insane for wanting to, you think to yourself. for how can you accept the vicious murder of your husband so easily, especially when he stands before you, devilishly handsome, asking you for something you did not think you would ever be able to give him again?

“come on. you know you want to,” satoru hums. “it’ll make you feel so much better. i can make that pout on your pretty face go away just like that.”

you do not even take offense when he refers to your bloodshot red puffy eyes, tear stained cheeks, and snotty nose as a ‘pout.’ all you hear is your satoru, and it kills you internally how desperately you still need him though every bone in your body is screaming at you to turn away before you are next.

when satoru catches that a part of him is getting to you somehow, he shifts himself slightly, lifting his head to stare down at you head on, his playfulness dwindling as his steely eyes sharpen.

“or… if you don’t wanna come outside…” he murmurs, eyes tracing down your body, studying calmly how tear droplets break from your chin and splatter onto your exposed chest. he takes in a slow, deep breath through his nose, distant memories of watching you dress in pink silk for tonight’s festivities fluttering somewhere in the back of his skull, further fueling his bloodlust, melded with an honest desire to never part with you.

you hold your breath, looking directly into his eyes as his lips part and shiny fangs peak through. “...you can just let me in so i can feel that pretty mouth of yours on mine. you wouldn’t have to worry about a thing. i’ll take care of it for you. just like i always do.”

his words wrap around you like a snake tightening its coils around prey, entrancing you in the steady dismantling of your self control.

your breath hitches in your throat, your fist tightening at your sides as your fingers dig in your palm hard enough to draw blood.

satoru notices, and for the first time since his slaughter, you see his lips spread into a toothy, excited grin, canines pointed enough to break skin with a simple nick.

“ohhh…” he coos “you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

you gulp heart, fighting yourself internally, nose flaring, skin heating.

“well, i can make that happen. all you gotta do, pretty, is say the words.”

he brings his face in just the smallest bit closer, still confined to the outside by his current obstacle. you can smell the fading cologne on his neck, feel the bitter coolness of his breath fan your face.

“let me in.”

suguru geto: "you know better..."

"angel..."

you hear his voice practically singing for you from just outside the doorway, on the other side of the wall, but you do not dare fall for his charm. you can not afford to now, for it unfortunately may cost you your life.

but suguru geto has always been a twistedly persuasive man. perhaps it was the manipulative tendencies he tended to put to use when working with unpleasant people, but he never would have used them on you before...

not when he was alive and human, at least.

now, as you shield yourself by pressing your back to the wall just beside the entryway, hiding away from your turned fiancé's beautiful face, you dread the notion that you may fall victim to his pretty words.

"now, now. you know better than to hide away from me, let alone pretend you don't hear me speaking to you."

his gentle voice slinks into your ear, testing you, tempting you.

you tense, cramping up every muscle in your body as if that will help you reject him, as if restricting your body will somehow reduce your longing to be with him, no matter what he was turned into.

you can practically feel him. how he hovers, how he lingers just on the other side of where you stand, how he taunts you with his looming physicality, how he knows that your instilled connection to him will draw you out of hiding any moment now.

you want to fight the drug that is him that has somehow amplified in his vampiric state, but your fiancé is gone. he’s been ripped from you, and all that is left is this monster that resembles him, that is his flesh and bone but not his soul.

in spite of it all, in spite of the carnage he seeks and the chaos he wishes to inspire, it is still suguru geto. it is still his long beautiful hair, his silky skin, his damned hypnotic voice.

"don't do that to me, (y/n). don't ignore me. it makes me so sad."

you can hear the playful pout, and your stomach flips.

"i can hear you, you know. i can hear you breathing."

your eyes blow wide and you instinctively hold your breath, raising your head and pressing your lips together tightly.

a melodic, gentle chuckle slips out of him, the sound just as beautiful as it was when he was living.

"nice try, but that means i can hear when you try to hide it too."

christ, he will let nothing go unseen? he's torturing you, swarming you with the attention he knows you will not be able to deny.

"i can hear your heart beating too," he reveals, his voice dropping deeper, lower. "it's beating so fast. am i making you nervous?""

"just stop talking, suguru," you hush out along with your held breath, and now that you have answered, both you and suguru know that he's caught you.

"ahhh, there's that beautiful voice," he smiles. "how lovely it is to talk to you again, angel."

"suguru, this is-" you suck in some air as sweat beads over your forehead. "this is fucked. leave me alone."

"why are you giving me so much attitude? i thought you liked talking to me."

"you're not my fiancé."

"now how could you say such a thing when your fiancé is right here talking to you?"

"suguru, stop. i can't do this with you. you're gone. you're dead. i know why you're here, and you're not gonna get inside.''

"that's a bit pessimistic... i prefer to keep my mind open and stay positive."

"well, optimism isn't gonna make me do otherwise. i'm not letting you in."

"alright. then you can come outside to me."

you whip your head. "no," you deny sternly.

"you're thinking on this too much, (y/n)," he says. "i'm not gonna hurt you. you know i'd never hurt you."

"i don't believe you."

"i just want to see you. can't you at least let me do that?"

"i said no, suguru."

"you don't have to step outside. i won't make you," he continues. "i just want to speak to you face to face. i hate having this wall between us."

you close your eyes and grind down on your teeth.

he's too good at this. too good at making you want to give into him.

"just take a few steps to the right so we can talk in the doorway. i can't get in either way. you have nothing to worry about."

you do not answer, for you ponder it.

"(y/n)," he drawls. "what did i say about ignoring me?"

"shut up."

"you know that's not how we communicate. we never ignore each other."

and you hate yourself for it, but that is what does it for you. that is what crashes through the weak wall you temporarily had up in order to keep yourself from giving him too much, from deceiving you into eventually letting him inside. it starts with letting him see you, and nevertheless, you break because of how perfectly his previous words align with something the normal him would have said.

it is your only glimpse of who he was before he turned. before he died.

he fooled you, with references to your relationship style and the sweetness of his tone.

he must sense that you are relinquishing control, and he leans further into it. "right?"

"one minute," you state swiftly. "you have one minute to say what you want to say to me."

"one minute," he agrees, humoring what you convince yourself to be the control you already lost. "no more and no less."

you know you shouldn't. you know you'll only fall for what he tells you.

but you have to look him in the eye and see him truly changed before you.

so you cautiously step away from the wall and into the doorway, open to a perfect view of the vast land and abandoned cars.

suguru slowly saunters his way over, a satisfied smile capturing his face with shining eyes. his hair sways with his movements as he stands before you, the splatters of blood on his cheek not going unseen.

the urge to cry takes over you as you look over him, and his smile widens. "atta girl."

nanami kento: "i got the car all warmed up..."

you think you're dreaming up some kind of horrific nightmare for a moment.

it all happened so fast. the witnessing of a demon of the night flying into your innocent friend, sinking teeth into his neck and blood spurting about the grass and the side of the wall.

you could only pray that your husband made it home safely until you see him saunter over to the open doorway where you stand calmly, dress shoes crunching into the gravel as he approaches. the bloody scene transpires to the side, and you find yourself whipping your head between both the murder and the unfathomable sight of your husband, who has not even spared a glance into that direction.

"k-kento?" you stammer, heartbeat in your ears.

the said man looks up at you and smiles, fiddling with his car keys.

you do not wish to think the worst. you know this image is strange, but you do not want to entertain the thought... that your husband has become one of them.

yet his entire presence is offputting. not a trace of anxiety or concern for anything is written on his face. he presents as something like a simulation or robot beyond your comprehension, for this thing is not behaving the way your husband, nanami, would, despite his identical likeness to him.

"let's go, honey," he looks at you blankly with a small, polite smile. you blink, immensely confounded. you twitch to go with him, but those around you, as well as yourself, instinctively know that you must stay put.

you have not accepted it yet. you can not accept it yet.

you furrow your brows, eyes glazing over as you look at your strapping husband in awe. he looks back at you almost lovingly, kindly, but it is not the same love and kindness you know him to possess. it feels empty, the way his honey brown eyes meet yours. it is like he is voice of feeling, void of any warmth that you once knew him to withhold.

"kento, what are you doing? what happened?"

the gnarly sound of hungry growling accompanied by flesh ripping fills the space when it is silent, and you fight how you want to look over.

you find it disturbing how the blonde has yet to spare a passing glance to the scene. a man is actively being devoured by a vampire right there before you all, and he looks at you expectantly as though he does not notice.

"i was just getting the car warmed up for you, sweetheart," he assures you affectionately. "it's all ready to go. come, love. let's go home."

home?

you feel something crumble within you.

you want to go home so terribly. it is the one thing you want more than anything in this life at the time being, and kento knew that before stepping out to get the car. he knew by the look of terror on your face that he had to get you out of here, so he tredded out into unknown danger for you hours ago. he got the car started for you. and he came back for you...

but you realize that the nanami that left you is not the same nanami that has returned to you.

kento turns after your pause to outstretch his had clutching the keys and click a button. your car beeps in response, but you did not miss the blood staining the back of his shirt that is only revealed when he turns his body.

your jaw hangs open and your hands come to cover your mouth to prevent from openly wailing. this catches kento's attention, as he turns back around and lowers the keys.

"see?"

he lifts his brows at you, holding out his hand toward you. your eyes blur over with tears as you stare at his hand. the hand you would once eagerly clasp in your own now tinged with blurred red.

"let's go."

"ken, wh-" you're shaking uncontrollably. struggling to speak through your tremors as your hands hover over your face. "d-do you not see what's- what's happening right next to you?"

a tear breaks past your lashes as kento finally turns to look, and a naive part of you almost hopes that he will jump back in shock upon taking in the sight he could have possibly missed.

instead, he lowers his head with a soft chuckle. his hair, once slicked back, falls over his face in waterfall-like strands as he ducks in amusement. "don't worry about that, honey. he's just a little hungry. that's all."

you think you are going to be sick when you register his reply.

kento looks back up at you casually, stretching his hand out to you once more. "i'll get you away from that. it's alright."

you can hardly see him now through your tears, and you do not wish to. you can not look at the face that was once true to you as whatever hides in his skin tries to trick you with sweet promises.

your husband is dead, you realize, and your world comes crashing down around you.

it all happens within your mind, however, as you are now void of any words that could even begin to respond appropriately to this situation or convey how you are feeling.

kento notices how you do not take his hand and he lets it fall to his side. "if you're not comfortable with that, then..." he pauses, tucking the car keys back into his pocket.

he takes a few steps closer to the doorway, pressing his lips together as he peers down at you peacefully. you unwind before him, yet he does not pay any mind to your turmoil.

instead, he presents you with another solution.

"then maybe you can let me in so i can get all of our things and head home."

he threads a bloody hand through his hair, pushing it back from his face so that he can see you clearly.

with this new view, you watch a pale light swirl in his dead brown eyes as he lowers his voice for you, and only you, to hear.

"would that be better for you, honey?"

choso kamo: "just a taste..."

you've never seen choso so commanding in his fit of desperation before.

the last you had seen of him before he whisked you away from a game of spades with the gentle call of your name and the clasp of your hand was when he stepped outside to ensure the area was safe at this time of night.

and suddenly, he's come back with a blinding hot urge to strip you naked and take you in the middle of the dance floor for everybody to see.

the club is alive with soulful music and dance, and therefore choso is as well, sliding warm palms expertly down your naval from behind, pressing your back flush to his chest as your hips sway with his.

he is so quiet, but you know he is there by the way he touches you, the way he breathes you in with his nose nudging the pulse of your neck, and the way his diamond eyes train on yours.

normally, the brunette's actions are careful, hesitant, but tonight he takes charge in the way he holds you and stares into your eyes, an unspoken greed simmering in his gaze.

your body knows better than to deny this, but your mind wishes to warn. something gnaws at you in the back of your mind to be careful, but you elect to ignore the feeling.

it's choso, after all. the man has been your loving boyfriend for years. he's the only man you would confidently say that you feel safe and secure in the presence of. if anything, you decide that the alcohol buzzing in your system has risen a hint of irrational paranoia.

so you lean into him, head falling against his shoulder as he further encircles you. he hovers over your shoulder, inching his face closer to yours as though on a mission. he keeps you snug, tightening his embrace of you and brushing the tip of his nose against yours.

the erratically soul-twisting strum of the guitar ascends, almost puppeteering choso's actions as he rushes in to kiss you hard, mirroring the pulse of the crowd with the swallowing of your mouth.

you hum, taken as he cradles your head and leans you over, dipping you as the chorus livens. choso is firm, possessive, and it has your head reeling. he feels different, suddenly. stoic, yet buzzing inside with hunger for you.

it does not take long before you are led in a daze to the nearby bathroom and shoved roughly up against the wall. you can not even open yours eyes to see choso slam the door behind him as he swarms you, lips swimming passionately together as he presses you between himself and the wall, leaving you with nowhere to run.

"cho," you moan as you momentarily part, a string of spit connecting your damp, swollen lips.

choso groans, a deep, desperate sound that he forces you to swallow when he pushes back in, tongue slithering into your cavern and intertwining with yours.

you're lightheaded, hardly cognizant of anything but your boyfriend's touch and the way you grind eagerly against his crotch. large palms caress over your dress, travel down, and sneak under the silk, sliding over bare skin and hiking your fabric up to your hip.

he hoists you up, your legs wrapping over his torso as he steadies you with a hand to the bum and your back flat against the wall. "don't look away from me," he breathes when he snaps his lips away from yours.

your heavy eyes search his as you nod obediently, lips parted. choso holds you gaze intensely, diamond eyes shining rather brilliantly as his free hand sneaks between the two of you, creeping fingers toward your heat.

your jaw falls open the moment his thick fingers brush against your bundle of nerves beneath your panties and your arms tighten around his neck instinctively. choso shudders an inhalation, keeping his eyes to you as he tugs your panties to the side and slowly drags his middle finger up your wet slit.

you gasp pleasantly and choso twitches, breath heavy.

"cho," you whisper his name again, but he does not stop. you can tell a part of him is listening to you though as his finger slowly nudges past your folds and to your entrance. you whimper softly. "c-cho, you're... you're drooling, baby."

and though he does very little to acknowledge your observation, a trail of saliva slides down his chin from the corner of his mouth. he says nothing, only grunting to himself as his finger slides into your warmth. you gape, knocking your head back against the wall as choso follows, bringing his slick lips to hover over yours.

"lick it off of me," he orders, hot against your skin.

the orgasmic spell you are under eases you into action. you lean forward pressing your tongue out to glide against his milky skin as he tenderly works his finger in and out of you. you both synchronize a needy moan as you lap up his spit, and choso catches your lips before you can fall away from him again.

your soft moans transition into muffled cries as choso swallows them up, an added finger, then suddenly three pistoning in and out of you with loud squelches. you cling to him tightly, drowning in pleasure as he kisses you as though it is the very last time he ever will.

he moves down to slather wet kisses over your jaw, then down to your neck. he sucks and slurps graciously at the skin. your cries blend into the music just outside the door, and choso lets you scream. he encourages you to - pushes you to.

you feel his teeth graze your neck in the midst of his kisses and he nips lightly. you feel him tremble. you clench around his fingers, inching closer and closer toward your high when you hear a sharp intake of air followed by the bitter pinch of teeth sinking into your neck.

you scream out in pain, your pleasure having been short-lived as choso rips his hand from your legs. his teeth are still embedded into your skin as you writhe against his strong hold, seering blood dribbling from the point of puncturing.

you are befuddled, startled, before the terror grips you. choso breaks free, ripping from your skin as you wail. he tosses his head back, savoring the blood that lingers on his lips and stains his mouth down to his chest. his tongue darts out to collect the dribbling, oozing liquid, and when he lifts his head, you see a monster staring back at you with yellow eyes and razor sharp teeth.

"you taste delicious, my love."

it is the very last thing you hear him say before your world goes dark.

toji fushiguro: "let me out, baby..."

you know you aren't hallucinating.

you felt his life leave him, you watched the light fade from his eyes as he stared up at you, angered, aggrieved, missing the future you in his very last moments.

you held his head as his blood soaked into your clothes, drenching your hands and arms. you sobbed over him as his guts spilled from his left side.

you watched your boyfriend die.

so how is it possible now...

that you can hear him on the other side of the storage room door, banging mercilessly against the locked door, calling out for you over and over.

you stare in shock and terror as the sound of his fists pounding against wood echoes throughout the space, the door itself creaking and curving outward under the sheer force of his hands.

you know that strength. you know those hurried, impatient grunts, the passion entangled with every dangerous shout of your name through the barrier that keeps you rightfully separated. you know the hoarseness of that voice, the impatience, the power.

you know it to be toji fushiguro's. you know it to belong to the love of your life's, but your mind betrays you when the recent memory of his murder flashes across your brain. toji is dead. you watched him die. you are mourning him right now, so what the fuck is fighting against the door, working desperately to break free from the only space occupied by your dead man's body?

"(y/n)!" he bellows again, a throaty, rugged call... the call of an otherworldy being, not the call of the man you know. "(y/n)! i know you can hear me, girl! why ain't you answering me?"

goosebumps sprout over the entirety of your skin, and your pupils shrink and your eyes grow wide. your heart sinks to your stomach and suddenly, you can not breathe. you can not think. you can not hear anything happening around you except for toji.

except for his undead presence.

and suddenly, the urge to see him strikes like a bolt of lightning. you had locked him away, urging yourself to stay far from the reminder of what you and many others have lost. you had pushed back thoughts of burying him to be dealt with later, for you had sworn to yourself that the last time you had seen him was the final time.

but there he was, manifested in sound alone just beyond that door.

it could have been a trick. it could have been a hallucination.

either way, you know it's too good to be true, which is why you are so drawn to see, to check, to take him in one more time.

you take a cautious step forward, shiu's demands for you to step back falling into white noise behind you. you approach the door slowly as it bangs until you are right there before it.

you press your hand to the caving door carefully, ever so slowly, and a whisper brushes past your lips. "toji."

suddenly, the pounding stops. the door lay still, silent, and toji's shouts for you cease. the empty air rings in your ears as you wait for it to be occupied by something again, anything that could bring him back to you.

everything is painfully still until you hear heavy feet shuffle.

"dollface," he exhales into something resembling a relieved chuckle. you jolt, stunned by his response, for it can only mean that the sound - the presence of toji is in fact real before you.

and his voice, now steady and low, treading with a light silkiness that almost gives you whiplash due to its contrast from his previous snarls, shakes something within you.

"talk t'me, doll. i know you're there," he encourages after a moment of prolonged silence. you ache and give in, just as you always would have.

"hi toji," you shiver.

you can practically hear him grin. you can feel him behind the door through your head as he knocks his head against it. you imagine his arms supporting his weight as they prop above his head on either side of the frame.

"hey, darlin'. that's right. it's me, it's toji," he breathes out as though exasperated. his voice is pressed to the door, muffled against your ear as you ease into him as much as you safely can. "i know you heard me callin' ya. why didn't you answer?"

you sniffle, throat tightening and brows scrunching. "toji, you were dead," you hiss. "i held you."

"nah, nah," he denies the very reality you both lived, the reality you will relive for the rest of time. "nah, it was just a little scratch. that's all it was. y'know it takes a lot more than that to knock me out. i'm all better now."

"you bled out. that thing... it attacked you."

"like i said. a scratch. it scratched me, but i survived. i'm alive."

he sounds almost manic to you, swearing things you know to be untrue. speaking to you with his mouth to the wood, urging you to be convinced by the tautness in his low voice.

you shake your head, trusting what you saw though it kills you. "no," you whimper, rubbing your forehead against the ridges of the door. "no, toji. no."

"what're you crying for, huh? i'm right here."

"you're dead, toji," you break out a sob.

"cut that out. you hear me talkin' to ya. i'm good," he grumbles. you close your eyes, imagining his head pressing against yours, his hands holding your waist, his scent capturing you.

"i can't," you tell yourself, him.

"heyyy, it'll all be okay, (y/n). i know ya miss me. i'm right here, darlin'. go ahead and open the door so i can show ya. i don't want you cryin' no more."

you press your lips together, swallowing down your cries as your chest jerks and the tears flow once more.

"...(y/n)... let me out, baby. let me out so i can see ya."

a part of you wants to. a part of you allows your hand to fall onto the door knob and just hold it as you toyed with the thought of letting him take you, of letting this monster posing as your boyfriend tear you away from life the way toji was torn from his.

"soon as you let me out, i can take you outta here. how's that sound? we can go wherever y'want. get some food, pop open a beer, and i'll lay you down over th'counter just the way ya like it. i'll love on you real sweet. yeah? you want that? just open up, and you got it."

you can feel his patience dwindling, for you have nothing more you can say.

"(y/n). doll..."

speech suddenly fails you, and before you can blink, your heart is jumping and you're moved hastily away when the pounding abruptly resumes and knocks against your head.

"(y/n)! get me th'fuck out of here! open the door! (y/n)!!"

you assume it is shiu who has gripped your arm and yanked you back as toji's fists attempt to break into the wood. he yells, growls, screams your name once more, reminding you that toji is long gone.

ryomen sukuna: “I’m here to help…”

"get the fuck away from here."

the stranger’s response to your sudden attempt at taking initiative is the same it had been the three times you’d spoken to him prior - a low chuckle accompanied by the trace of his eyes over your body.

you knew something was wrong with him the second he appeared in the fog, like a shadow manifesting from thin air. he had an energy about him, one off putting and bone chilling, cold and unliving.

the second he asked for permission to step inside the club you've taken cover in, you knew for sure something was terribly wrong. you did not take this burly giant as one who would ask anyone for anything. considering his stature, in all his 6’5 glory, he would have very little trouble pushing his way through, past a woman much smaller than him.

this is a being that exudes power, pride. and he certainly was not asking if he could come in to be polite.

and you, tormented by the vision of him, grip a wooden stake tightly in your grasp as you raise it overhead, demonstrating that you will use it to strike on him at any moment you need to - though that is not necessarily a major concern right now, considering the fact that the salmon haired beast can not even walk through the door without your say so.

you are sure he finds it amusing how you grip onto the piece of wood for dear life anyhow, for it is the only thing giving you any sense of security now that your only sense of security is dead, manifested in expired flash as a devil come to haunt victims.

this stake is the only thing you can cling to, to keep from breaking down, to provide some mask of bravery hiding away a heartbroken, terrified victim of massacre.

"my, my," the vampire known to you now as sukuna muses, that condescending tone you’d accustomed to buttering his voice. "you’ve got such a temper, peach. what makes you believe you can get away with talking to me like that?"

"i mean it,” you try to be firm. “go. away. you’re not welcome here.”

“hmmm,” he hums, smirking at you from where he stands a few feet away. he tucks his hands into his dress pants pockets and quirks a brow, flickering a fiery glow in his eye solely to tease you. “that’s not very kind of you. i was hoping to partake in some of your celebration.”

your jaw clenches.

“why so tense, eh?” he pokes gently, crimson eyes beaming their way through the darkness. they appear as small red dots to you from where you reside, and your lips tighten. those eyes, they beam like a serpent’s, like a killer’s, and in turn your blood runs cold beneath their guise. “you must relax. i don't mean any distress."

his voice is dripping with something sinister, and you can tell that he enjoys this mind game he plays with you. he lives for it, for watching you doubt yourself as you pathetically hold up something that likely will not be strong enough to stop the likes of him on its own.

"bullshit," you scoff, turning up your nose. "i know what you're here for."

"yes, as i told you. to celebrate... you should have kept the music playing."

your breathing hastens. "no. no, i know what you are. this isn't about the music, it's about you killing people."

"oh, dear. what a beautiful fool you are," the tan skinned being simpers, fangs shining with his wicked grin. there is something almost sedating about him, as well as there is something intensely frightening.

the ease in which he carries himself with, as though every stride he takes is one he has taken before and memorized... like the very earth was made for him to walk on.

the gentle threat that hides in plain sight within his eerie tone. how it is laced with seductive venom.

the unwavering confidence instilled in him. it unnerves you so, how he trusts that he will get what he wants though you are standing before him and refusing it.

he is too cool and collected for the horror that you know him to be, and it messes with your mind. it has you second-guessing your gut.

"would you like to know something, woman?"

he takes a step forward, to which you involuntarily take a step back from. your movement seems to please him, as he continues with his approach. you ensure that a space still divides you as he strolls up to the doorway, the light from inside illuminating his features.

you see the blood staining his lips, that piercing glow in his eye, and the greatness of his presence, all the better now. you lower the stake slightly, subconsciously, and sukuna's pleasure doubles.

you frown. "i thought i told you to get away."

"those friends of yours," he begins in a hushed tone. your face drops, as you know he is referring to the people he has killed and turned that likely roam about the club in the dusk as you speak. crimson eyes study your paling skin, and the skin beneath his eyes crease with gentle, malicious delight. "particularly... the one with the hat."

you freeze, for you knew it was coming. you knew he was going to taunt you with those he took away from you, and now he does so by making you relive the moment he killed your partner.

he sees that he has struck a nerve, taking note of your glassy eyes, and he presses further, staring you directly in the eye. "mmm. yes. that one. who seemed to have a love for groveling at your feet."

a strike to your heart. "shut up."

"his thoughts... his mind is connected to mine, you see? now that he has joined me," he continues, smirk widening the further your face plummets. "would you like to know... what he thinks of you?"

"no. stop."

"all the sinful, aggregious things that you haven't let him get away with yet?"

"stop it. stop it now."

"did you know that he thinks you're a prude? holding out on him like that. denying him such pleasures."

you know what he is doing. he is trying to push you to the edge. to make you appeal to nonsensical anger for hope that if you snap, you will stupidly challenge him and invite him in.

you can see it, but you find yourself reacting to him and falling into his trap anyway.

you raise the stake high once more, a newfound frustration and anguish clear on your face. you're fueling his fire. you know you are, but you can not seem to stop. he will not let you.

"come, peach. you can not expect yourself to always be wound up this tight. it makes for a bad impression on your lover. look at you," he purrs. "look at how stiff you've allowed yourself to be."

you're body is burning. your thoughts are jumbling with anger, with heartbreak, with desire, with fear, and you do not know what to do but hold onto this stake as a devil picks you apart piece by piece without even touching you.

he has been doing this all night, pushing your buttons, trying to get you to break. you're exhausted. you feel heavy, like you can sink into the floor, and the persistent, alluring jab of this ancient creature is doing little to help you push through.

there is barely anyone left, and he sees that. he sees you. he's seen you since the very first moment he approached this establishment.

"would it not feel amazing to just let go for a moment and give me what i want?" he hums, something sharp flickering in his eye. "if you give in to me, your little friend will surely feel it on my behalf."

his words break you. it is still hours from morning, and you can not take much more of this torment. you are tired. you feel unstable and violent, and you want to give in though you know you will lose.

your lips curl into a tight grimace as you glare ahead with wild eyes, watching the very moment sukuna knows that he has won.

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thegnomelord · 1 year ago

Note

just read about demon hunter reader and demon ghost cuddling, and the first thing i thought was how ghost would react if, one of these times, reader ends up having a wet dream and dry humping his ass 😋

about time that our demon thinks of getting laid, he's disgusted and turned on at the same time

Sorry this took a while lads :Dd, I'm getting back into writing after all that shit with my school but I got a summer job as an assistant medical worker with 12h shifts every other day so It might take a bit for me to write stuff.

Hush, Hunter

CW:NSFW, MDNI, demon Simon Ghost Riley x male hunter reader, grinding, wet dreams, handjob, blowjob, size difference (demon ghost is like 11 feet tall.)

Your ‘husband’ is strange, even by demon standards.

He grumbles about the inconvenience brought on by your mortal failings and fragility, growling whenever you have to stop at a gas station to buy food or at some dingy motel to sleep. He grumbles even more about being confined in the stolen human skin suit he's forced to wear to blend in.

You can ignore the stranger with the stolen face and hellfire eyes throwing dark glares at you for the most part, except for when the demon decides to make the binding ring around your finger heat up when you spend too long talking to the pretty cashier. And it only takes a few more seconds of not paying heed to the incessant burn before Ghost Simon looms behind you, glaring at the flustered cashier like she’s a fey trying to trick you into the Fey Lord’s court.

And the big bastard never gives you any explanation on why he’s acting like that, just drags you back to your car, slamming the doors closed with enough strength to shake the entire vehicle. He’s like a cat honestly; hisses at you, but doesn’t want to let you out of his sight or claws.

But when your nightmares get so bad your only chance of sleeping is on the floor, well hidden behind the bed with your back flush with the dingy motel wall, Ghost surprises you by laying down with you. Sure he grumbles about the demeaning position - laying like some mongrel dog - but he still does it.

Ghost is on his side, his broad muscular back to you, rough inky scales swallowing all the moonlight that filters through the blinds and turning him into a pitch black wall of muscle. He’s so still you might even think he’s sleeping – you know he’s not; demons aren’t tied to mortal laws, nor are they subject to time’s iron grip, that’s what makes hunting demons so dangerous. The only indication you have that he’s awake is the occasional twitch of his tail and the slight shuffle of his wings when you accidentally get closer to him in your attempt to get a comfortable position.

You flinch when his one wing spreads out and back, but the blanket of black and blood dyed feathers soon eases the tension in your body. Probably too quickly, definitely too quickly, but Ghost doesn’t draw attention to it and neither do you and the night is cold and he is blissfully warm and he stays stock still when you shuffle a bit closer. You're glad he pays no attention to you when you get comfortable against him, barely an inch of space between you two.

His feathers tickle your face, they’re softer than you’d expect a wrath demon to have, fluffy like the down of chicks. His scent invades your nose, rough leather and steel oil and something distinctly demonic you can’t name. . . but it’s strangely comforting.

Laying only an inch or two away from a demon goes against everything you’ve ever been taught. Your nerves should be on a razor’s edge, but instead you’re calm. You don’t know why your fucked up mind finds comfort in the fact a possible threat would need to go through half a ton of murderous wrath demon to get to you. And you don’t want to think about it either, you’ve had far too many sleepless nights for your brain to care how you manage to sleep so long as you do. And the moment you close your eyes, you’re out like a light.

Ghost has gotten used to your nightmares.

Just like his father’s absent love, your nightmares are consistent. He’s almost impressed how such a frail thing like you could hunt the likes of hydras and Hell Dukes when you barely sleep a wink most nights. The longest you’ve gone is a couple of hours of restful sleep before you woke up trying to claw your eyes out. You never talk about it, nor does he, Ghost may be a demon but he knows far too well how the mind can haunt someone.

And Ghost has gotten good at telling apart the individual nightmares by how you squirm in your sleep.

It takes a little longer for the nightmare to start than usual, but he knows you’re neck deep in it when you heart starts it’s frantic drumming in your chest. He ruffles his feathers as your hands grip his sides, your breath fanning over his skin. He thinks it might be the basilisk haunting you this time by the way you press yourself flush with his back, burying your face into the space between his shoulder blades until your nose is flush with his spine, back hunching to further shield your eyes.

Ghost doesn’t, nor will he ever, mention the low happy rumble that escapes him when you snuggle up to him. His feathers fluff up, the scratchy hair of his tail flattening down - about as silk soft as he can make them. It’s little better than throwing pearls before swine, you won’t remember any of this after all, but doing this strangely doesn’t feel as much of a burden as it should.

Usually the low deep purring growling will chase away your nightmares and lull you into a dreamless sleep for a little while, but not this time. You squirm against his back like an eel, muscles tensing to grip his sides until dregs of pain dance along his spine. Your breath fans across his scales, your heart pounding in his ears like that of a rabbit’s caught in a snare. He’s just about ready to turn around and wake you before he feels it—

Your arousal pokes his back, hard like iron.

Only now does he pick up the slight sweetness of arousal in your adrenaline rich scent. “Hm- fuck.” You mumble as you roll your hips to grind your cock against him. “Slow- fuck fuck- slow down.” You breathe out, and Ghost swears this must be another part of his father’s eternal punishment. The sudden thought that your dream is of a sexual nature smites him with all the intensity of his father’s rage.

Who do you think you are, taking his little mercies for granted? Who do you think you are, grinding against him like some mongrel mutt? Who do you think you are holding him as if you are more than the eventual reward for the maggots fervent prayers? Who do you think you are—

“Ghost- Simon. . .” His name, his original name, leaves your lips; it’s the softest he’s ever heard you speak.

“Human.” He seethes and rolls around, pushing the warm feeling –warm like a campfire compared to the blistering pits down below that usually dwell in his chest– out of his mind. “Disgusting.” You’re so small compared to him, your head could easily fit in his rough hand, a momentary lapse in the binding’s protection all that it would take for his flesh rending claws to cleave through your skull. He’s thought about it often, of the look in your eyes as your life fades, of how good your blood would taste, of how nice your shoulder would look with his teeth marks on it. . .

His hand is gentle as he reaches to brush your cheek, like he’s handling glass, rumbling when you lean into the touch. “Wretched thing.” He growls, hand sliding from your cheek to your back and pulling you close. He feels you nuzzle into his wide chest, carefully bullying his thigh between yours, steel hard muscle tensing to give you a good surface to grind on. “Nothing more but a mongrel waste of flesh.” He doesn’t notice how quickly his voice has lost heat, barely above a murmur as he listens to your breathless gasp and watches your back arch.

For someone usually so guarded, you are painfully naked in flesh and soul, responding so wantonly to his touches; from low moans to soft little murmurs of ‘Simon’ and ‘more’ that has him mindlessly rubbing his thigh against your crotch in hopes of getting more of those so painfully human sounds. You moan and nuzzle into his chest, your body like soft clay in his hands now that you’re no longer shackled by the chains of pride and prejudice that your mind conjures around him

You’re like a strange bug to him; a part of him wants to pin you down, to tear you apart with vicious claws and see if there’s anything different in the way your heart beats, in the way your lungs move, in the way you exist — something substantial to show why holding you in his arms doesn’t feel as degrading as it should.

He wonders, briefly, if this is what God saw that made him love Adam so much. Why God did not have the heart to kill Adam for his disobedience.

Greed moves his hands like they’re puppets on strings, flesh rending claws carefully tracing the bumps of old and fresh scars that dot your abdomen — perhaps you aren’t so pathetic, it takes strength to survive this long. Your skin prickles from his touch, your breath fanning over the rough belly scales protecting his front as his hand slowly moves down. He hooks a claw under the band of your underwear and pulls down until your cock springs out right into Ghost’s hand.

Ghost hasn’t seen many cocks before, why would he?, but a low sound comes from his chest at how neatly your cock fits in his hand, how neatly all of you fit against him. And only now does it dawn on him that he doesn’t know how to do this— he’s a wrath demon for fuck’s sake, he understands war and bloodshed like it’s the back of his hand, but this? This is new territory.

Well, he’s never been one to back down when he’s gotten this far.

His hand slowly closes into a fist, just a little loose around you. Even if he wanted to, he couldn’t be anything but gentle in the way he strokes you. Your hips move on their own, gentle little rocks to fuck your cock into his fist and he follows along with the motion. It’s a little rough at first, he feels how the dry slide of his hand makes you shiver, but he soon finds a nice pace as your precum eases the glide of flesh on flesh.

He wants to see your face when you moan, but he can’t bring himself to pull you away from his chest when you cling to him so sweetly, your lips mindlessly ghosting over his scales. So he contends himself with coiling his tail around your leg, draping a wing over you so there’s a barrier between you and the rest of the world, so no creature from heaven high or deep below may entertain the thought of taking what’s his.

No good thing lasts for long.

He feels you wake like the first thaw in spring, slow and gradual, eyes fluttering open, mind still clouded with pleasure to really understand the position you’re in. He takes advantage of that, gripping your hip to keep you close, swirling his tumb in the precum beading at your head and squeezing his hand just right to coerce a breathless moan from your chest.

Then your eyes snap open, realisation hitting you with the same intensity as the punch you throw at his skull. But the ‘marriage’ turns that show of force into a gentle caress of the skull cheek of his ‘face’. “Ghost what the fuck are you-” You begin, cut off as another clench of his hand has you gripping his forearm and biting your lip to silence yourself.

“Oh hush hunter.” Ghost rumbles low in his throat, his wing tensing behind your back to bring you in closer, soft blood dyed feathers encasing you in a cocoon of warmth against his cool belly scales. “No need to wake the other worms.” Disdain and mockery drip from his voice like molasses, yet strangely it doesn’t feel aimed at you. . . it must just be the pleasure making you believe that.

“You- bastard!” You snarl, trying to summon the hunter savagery that had been meticulously beaten into you, but it slumbers like a fat cat. “Fuck off- get away from me.” You aim to slam your fist against his scaled abdomen, just a little lower and to the side where the floating ribs should be, but all you manage is a slow caress of his side and back up his chest where you can feel his eternal soul burning beneath the flesh.

He laughs and slides his hand down, rolling your balls in his wide hand and squeezing just enough to be at the edge of pain– shit, that should not feel so good. You hiss and throw your head back despite the inherent danger of exposing your throat. He tilts his head down, ghostly breath washing over your ear, “We both know if you wanted this to stop you would have done so.” Oh, now you can just feel the mockery in his voice, sweet like honey that it is.

Some petulant part of you thinks of arguing, anything to retain what remains of your damn pride, but then he slides his hand back up, pressing your cock against your stomach and grinding the palm of his hand against your shaft and all the thoughts of arguing are pushed to the side by the tide of pleasure. Fuck, it’s been far too long since you ‘took care’ of things, it’s not like you have much time to wank off, let alone with Ghost hanging over your shoulder like some grim reaper. And hell, if any other hunter heard you let a damn demon jack you off, yours would be the next head put on the stake but. . . but Ghost is surprisingly gentle with you, not a single hint of pain coming from his touches, not even from his claws gently running down your side.

“Fine-” You suck in a sharp breath, head fixed to stare directly at his chest. “Make it quick.”

You feel him smirk against your ear, “As you wish, hunter.” He laughs lowly, like you’re nothing but a cute puppy chewing on his shoelaces, “Though, you should thank me for debasing myself like this.” He growls, and with a sharp move of his wing he rolls you on your back.

You gasp as your back hits the sleeping mat, and before you can even struggle Ghost looms over you, a wall of muscle and dark scaled flesh. “Fuck no.” You growl, some scraps of pride still clinging to your mind, though even those are threatened when his broad hand returns to stroking your cock, faster this time, the drag of his palm making pleasure sizzle up your spine. Your head rolls back to rest on the mat and you don’t even notice when you close your eyes. You’re not sure how Ghost is so good at this, something sharp like jealousy curling in your stomach at the thought of him doing this to someone else. But it’s hard to think when you can feel and hear him purring, his claws gently tracing your stomach and leaving lingering heat everywhere they touch.

You jump as something slick brushes over your balls, “Look, good hunter.” He growls and you listen without thought, eyes wide when you see his tongue— it extends from the darkness of his head just beneath the rotten upper teeth of his skull, long, black, thick strings of oil coloured spit dripping off his tongue. “That’s better,” He purrs; you’re not sure how he can talk, and you’re unable to ask because he leans in closer until your cock rests against his skull, his hellfire eyes burning in the darkness and giving just enough light for you to see his long black tongue curl around your base like a snake.

Shit– he wants to kill you.

“Holy fuck Ghost-” You breathe out, lungs burning before you remember how to breathe. His tongue moves, squeezing your base and sliding lower to lap at your balls. You’re forced to bite your finger to stop the painfully pathetic sound burning on your tongue.

He stops moving and you’re thankful he doesn’t mention the whine that slips past your lips. “Simon.” He demands, oily spit clinging to your skin and making it tingle with heat.

“Simon.” You nod along dumbly, “Fuck- Simon.”

“Good.” You imagine he’s smiling when he says that, his hand returning to stroke your cock in reward. “Call me that again.” He says, a purr rumbling in his chest and you can’t help but moan at how the vibrations travel through his tongue, making it act like a vibrating toy.

Your hands fly to grip his horns, the pleasure making you throw your head back yet you try to keep your eyes on him, hiccuping his name between harsh breaths. He doesn’t mind the touch on his horns, leaning into the touch before flicking his tongue at your taint. He rewards you for each time you say his old name, tongue and hand working in tandem to slowly and steadily march you towards release.

You try to tug on his horns to warn him, or maybe to pull him away, but he pays no heed; he doubles his efforts, wetly slurping at your balls and base while his hand toys with your crown, his free hand holding your hips down so all you can do is weather the pleasure until you’re finally pulled under the waves. “Simon-” You gasp, cum spurting all over his hand and your stomach.

You watch through lidded eyes as he retracts his hand, keeping his gaze on you as he lazily licks up your cum from his hand. “Better than I expected.” He rumbles, more to himself than you, leaning up to drag his long slimy tongue across your stomach to gather up all your cum.

Shit, that sight got you hard again before you could even soften.

You’re not sure if the greed you see spark in his eyes makes you scared or even harder, but you’re not left any room to think further about it before his tongue wraps around your cock again.

Unfortunately for you, demons have no concept of time as mortals know it, so his ‘quick’ ends up being the entire rest of the night. At one point you get to the point you’re sure Ghost is trying to kill you with all the pleasure, spit polishing your cock until he’s satisfied and by that point the sun is rising and your voice is hoarse.

You can’t meet the gaze of the motel receptionist in the morning, but Ghost Simon, looks smug like the cat who ate the canary.

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re-freaks · 2 days ago

Text

you work at a monster café.

which is fine. you’ve had worse jobs. no one at ghoul grinds complains if your eyeliner’s a little dramatic or your arms are covered in flour and minor hexes. you get free drinks, a decent paycheck, and the slime girl in prep keeps making you friendship bracelets with her pseudopods.

it’s nice.

except for your manager.

he’s a vampire. tall and sharp and terrifyingly elegant, with bone-white cuffs and fangs you definitely don’t look at when he talks.

he never raises his voice. never flirts. never scolds you directly, even when you spill strawberry syrup in the cash drawer or accidentally serve a ghost holy foam.

he just looks at you. long and unreadable—like he’s memorizing your mistakes, or the faces you make when they happen. for later.

it makes you crazy.

not scared. just.. feral.

because the problem is—you’re into him.

deeply. stupidly. like a girl with a crush and a caffeine addiction. you flirt like someone who doesn’t know what she’s doing (you don’t), and he never flirts back (he might. you’re notorious for being socially unaware).

he comes out of the back one morning with his sleeves rolled up and his hair freshly tied, and you almost drop a tray of blood cream cones.

“you’re early,” he says, voice like velvet wrapped around a knife.

you shrug, trying not to die. “beat the sunrise. and the rush. coffee rush. not your kind of rush. not that you—i’m gonna go restock the caramel.”

his mouth twitches. not a smile, exactly. just enough to ruin your whole week.

by noon, you’ve spilled two shots of hellfire espresso, given a banshee a regular croissant instead of the ash-dusted one she asked for (she wailed for ten minutes), and nearly served a literal love potion to a bog witch who definitely would’ve sued.

he steps in before you hand it to her. swaps the bottles like a card trick, so smooth you almost miss it. doesn’t say anything.

just gives you a look.

you have no idea what it means.

could be careful.

could be i’m watching you.

could be if you entertain one more incubus’ flirting for a tip, i’m sending you back to mop duty.

you wish he’d say something. anything. but instead, he wipes down the counter with deliberate grace, sleeves still rolled, collar sharp, shadows clinging to him like perfume.

you are a very normal, professional employee.

you are not imagining him biting the side of your neck like it’s a delicacy.

by the end of your shift, you’re flour-dusted and tired and running on three hours of sleep and half a ghost’s mocha. you slump against the counter, watching your boss do inventory like he’s posing for an oil painting.

you drop a spoon.

then a tray.

then your rag.

“i’m very graceful,” you say, face-down on the tile.

he appears beside you like a curse and offers you his hand. “you’re very good at many things,” he muses. “balance, perhaps, is not one of them.”

you take his hand. it’s cool and smooth and way too steady.

you can’t breathe.

“was that—flirting?” you ask, immediately regretting it.

he arches a brow. “i would never flirt with an employee.”

“oh,” you hesitate, embarrassed. “right. policies.”

he watches you a beat longer than necessary. then brushes a bit of flour from your cheek with his thumb. his eyes are unreadable.. or maybe they are readable, and you just don’t know how to do any of the reading aspect.

“but if i were to flirt,” he murmurs, low and casual, “i might ask why you keep staring at my fangs when you think i’m not looking.”

you make a small noise.

he simply smiles and returns to his work.

afternoon fades into evening light. he walks you to the door after the café closes, and you trip on your bag. he catches you by the wrist. his fingers are long and careful and absolutely not lingering on your pulse.

you’re going to scream.

“see you tomorrow? haha, ha..”

he nods once. “of course.”

you step outside. he leans against the doorway, cast in moonlight like a gothic statue, and says—offhand, quiet: “sleep well. you’ll need your strength.”

your brain short-circuits. “uh.. for what?”

he smiles, just barely. “we’re testing the seasonal menu. blood-cherry affogato. customers may need convincing.”

you stare at him. you’re sure that’s a normal sentence. it sounded like a normal sentence. and yet..

“right,” you nod, backing away. “yep. totally. sleep. strong cherries—i mean, sleep to be strong. cherries. okay.”

you turn around quickly and book it.

..and you make it to the end of the block before realizing you’re still holding your apron in a death grip.

part 2

#monster x human #monster x you #monster x reader #monster lover #monster #vampire x reader #vampire

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punkrockmlchael · 7 months ago

Text

Casual

Masterlist | Eddie Munson Masterlist | Corroded Coffin Masterlist

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Fuckers to Lovers? (Both Eddie and Reader are 18+)

Warnings: 18+ mdni, Lowkey Cocky Eddie (around the boys), Mixed Signals from Eddie, Eddie has commitment issues, Starts off right with some smut, mentions of drug use, Possessive Eddie!, Smut with plot (kinda), Smut: Oral (Fem Receiving), Fingering, Cum eating, Sex in Eddie's Van, PinV, Riding Eddie in the front seat of his Van, Slight Choking, Dominant Eddie, afab reader

Synopsis: High School is a weird time, especially senior year. Everyone is thinking about college, plans after they graduate, and who they’re going to Prom with. You, however, are always thinking about Eddie Munson and whatever it is you two are. Friends with benefits? Lovers? No strings attached fuckers? Eddie tells all his friends that you two are just “casual,” but, if it’s casual then why does your favorite bra live in his dresser? And, why is he bragging about hitting it to the Hellfire boys when you’re not around?

Based off of the song Casual by Chappell Roan. Also, uh, I don't know anything about campaigns or dnd, please don't come for me. Also this is my first Eddie fic so enjoy!

Word Count: 3.1k

Knee deep in the passenger seat and you're eating me out

Is it casual now?

Two weeks and your mom invites me to her house in Long Beach

Is it casual now?

I know what you tell your friends

It's casual, if it's casual now

Then baby get me off again

If it's casual, it's casual now

"Jesus, fuck, Eddie," you moaned, closing your eyes as your fingers tangled into his hair. He groaned, looking up at you through his lashes. He hummed against you, licking up your folds again as you tugged on his hair harder.

"God, princess, I adore the way you say my name," he mumbled, placing soft kisses against your clit. "It really turns me on," he added before he sucked on your clit gently.

You sighed, resting your head back against the cool passenger window of his van. He repositioned himself gently, hoisting both of your thighs over his shoulders as he moved his tongue up and down your folds. His tongue darted in and out of your core, causing a sharp moan to escape your mouth.

"Eds," you whined, squeezing your thighs against his head tightly. He moaned again, his fingers squeezing your thighs as he looked up at you, continuing to eat you out like you were his favorite meal.

His tongue moved in and out of your core, while his nose pressed against your clit, drawing you closer and closer to the edge.

"Eddie, fuck," you whined, grinding against his face. "I'm gonna cum," you said, pulling his hair tighter. His grip around your thighs tightened, signaling that he had heard you, but he didn't stop. If anything, he just kept going.

He wanted to get you off.

He always wanted to get you off.

After all you were his... girlfriend?

Eddie licked one last stripe up your folds before he went back to sucking on your clit. He moved his dominant hand from your thigh, his slender fingers moving your slick around at your core. He pushed his pointer and middle finger inside of you, pumping them in and out before curling them inside of you.

"Eds," you moaned, grinding against his fingers. "Fuck, please," you whined. He pulled his head away and rested it against your thigh. You looked down at him, the moonlight from outside the van illuminating his face as he looked back at you with his signature smirk.

"Cum for me, princess," he said, leaving wet, sloppy kisses against your thighs. "Let me see what I do to you," he added, kissing his way back to your clit. He left sloppy kisses over your clit and continued to finger fuck you, relishing in the feeling of you clenching around his fingers.

You whined again, your head hitting the window behind you as you came undone on his fingers. You moaned loudly, grinding against his fingers as you rode out your high.

Eddie smirked, removing his fingers from your core, licking your juices off of them before he moved his head back between your thighs. He licked you clean, groaning at the taste of you on his tongue. He left a few more kisses on your thighs before he kissed back up your body, leaving hasty kisses on your lips.

"You taste so fucking good, princess. And, you're all mine," he added, kissing your lips again. You sighed into the kiss, still feeling the effects from your previous orgasm. He kissed down your jaw and to the left side of your neck, sucking and nibbling at the sensitive skin there. A groan left your lips as you moved your hand to his head, running your fingers through his hair as he kept kissing and nipping at your neck.

Your other hand ran down his chest and stomach, stopping over his clothed cock. You palmed him slightly through his jeans, a loud moan erupting from his mouth in your left ear.

“Fuck, princess, please,” he begged, moving his hips to grind against your hand. “Need to be inside of you, preferably with you on top,” he added, leaving more kisses along your jaw line.

You whined at his begs, fumbling your hands to undo his belt. He pulled away from you, sitting back in the driver’s seat of his van. He pushed his seat back all the way and undid his belt, tugging his jeans and boxers down just enough for his cock to spring free, twitching painfully as it leaked precum.

He fumbled in the glove box, pulling out a condom. He opened it quickly, throwing the wrapper behind him before he grabbed your hands gently, pulling you towards him.

“Come here, beautiful,” he mumbled, allowing you to get comfortable. With your knees on both sides of his thighs, he sighed, pumping his cock a couple of times before he teased your core with it. You sighed, slowing sinking down onto him with a squeak. Once he was fully in you, he moved his hands to your hips, helping to guide you up and down.

“Fuck, Eddie, god, you’re so big,” you babbled, moving to kiss his lips.

“God, you’re boosting my ego again, princess,” he groaned, kissing your lips roughly as he continued to move you up and down on his cock. “And I love it,” he added, resting his head back against the headrest.

“Yeah?” You asked, breathlessly as you kept bouncing on top of him. “You it when I tell you that? How you’re so good with your hands, and your mouth, and your, fuck, and your cock,” you mumbled, leaning down to kiss his neck. You kissed up and down his neck, biting the skin softly.

“Jesus, fuck, you’re going to make me cum if you keep talking like that,” Eddie sighed, twitching inside of you slightly.

You hummed against his neck, biting the skin harder. “Mhm, you should. Cum for me,” you said, “let me see what I can do to you,” you added, mocking him form earlier.

He groaned, squeezing your hips as he thrusted up into you, meeting your movements. After a couple of good thrusts he moaned loudly, releasing into the condom.

“Fuck, princess, god,” he groaned riding out his high. He moved his hand down to where your bodies met and rubbed tight circles on your clit, causing a high pitched moan to escape your lips.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you moaned, feeling your orgasm hit for the second time. Your bounces became sloppy as you clenched around him and released around him for a second time. You sighed, resting your forehead on his shoulder as you sunk back onto him, enjoying the feeling of him being inside of you.

Eddie ran his fingers up your back softly, leaving a couple soft kisses on your temple. You looked over at the clock, “fuck,” you mumbled, moving off of Eddie slowly. “Shit, Eds, it’s 10,” you sighed, quickly moving to the passenger seat as you slid your panties and jeans back on. “I have to get home.”

“Relax,” he sighed, slowly removing the condom. “You’ve never been late with me before, princess.”

You took your normal seat at the Hellfire lunch table, squeezing between Jeff and Gareth. Gareth looked up at you and smiled as he sipped on his Dr. Pepper while Jeff nodded a greeting in your direction.

“No, Eddie, I don’t see how that’s right,” Dustin argued, looking at the character sheet he was working on. “This would totally work!”

“Wrong, child,” Eddie replied, leaning back in his seat at the table. “That’s literally so wrong that it’s comical how you can’t see why it wouldn’t work.” He added, glancing down at the character sheet that was resting on the lunch table. "What do you think, hm?" Eddie asked, directing his attention towards you as you pushed the crappy cafeteria peas around on your lunch tray.

You looked up from your lunch tray, confused. "About?" You asked, searching for more context about the argument between the senior and freshman.

"Eddie thinks my new character design would totally flop in the next campaign," Dustin said, handing you the sheet of paper.

"That's because he's right," Mike piped up from beside he curly haired freshman.

"Mike, I swear to god," Dustin mumbled. "You helped me make this!" Dustin argued, turning to face Mike.

While the two freshmen kept arguing back and forth across the table from you, you glanced at the character sheet in greater detail. You ran your fingers through your hair, pulling it from the left side of your neck to the right side of your neck.

Jeff and Gareth moved closer to you, examining the paper in your hands. As you moved your hair to the opposite side of your neck, Gareth glanced up and caught sight of the three purple marks on the left side your neck. He stopped and slowly looked back at Eddie, who was wearing a smirk as his eyes also caught sight of the three purple marks.

The three hickies, to be specific.

The same three hickies that Eddie had left on your neck the night before. Gareth rolled his eyes at Eddie and looked back at the sheet, leaning closer to you as he examined it.

“You really think this will work, Dustin?” Jeff asked, looking up at the freshmen across the table from you.

“Yeah, man, I’m not so sure,” Gareth added, taking the paper from your hands gently.

You shrugged, peering over Gareth’s shoulder. “I think he has a really good base, he just needs to work on it slightly and tweak it.” You replied, looking up at Dustin. “Don’t let Eddie scare you, he just wants to get in your head."

Dustin looked up at you, also catching sight of the hickies on your neck. "You, uh, you really think so?" He asked, trying not to make it obvious that he was staring at your neck.

“Yeah, a couple tweaks here and there and you’ll be fine,” you nodded, reassuring him and you went back to your food.

All the boys at the table that had noticed the marks on your neck made eye contact with Eddie, who proceeded to sit there with this dumb smirk on his face.

A smirk that read: Yeah, I made those. Are you jealous?

You looked down at your watch and sighed, “shit, I have to go. I have to actually pretend I care about my school work.” You said, standing up from your seat. “Bye, guys. Dustin, I’ll try to help you with that character sheet later if you want,” you nodded before you grabbed your bag and lunch tray and were off in the direction of the school library.

Soon after you excused yourself from the table, Mike and Dustin followed; they both had excuses about needing to get to their next class early.

After most people had left, Gareth looked at Eddie and raised an eyebrow. “So, like, are you dating yet or what’s the deal here?”

“Yeah, how much longer do we just have to pretend that we know you’re fucking but have to hide it?” Jeff added.

“Relax. It’s just casual,” Eddie replied, shrugging as he munched on some pretzels from his lunch.

“Right,” Gareth nodded, looking in the direction you went. “Those were.. new, weren’t they?” He asked, redirecting his attention to Eddie.

“Hell yeah, man, last night.” Eddie bragged. “We drove to Lover’s Lake and had some fun.”

Gareth and Jeff rolled their eyes, exchanging a look with each other.

“Just causal?” Jeff asked, looking at Eddie.

“Yeah, strictly causal,” he replied, nodding with a smirk.

“Damn,” Gareth said, “you better hope no one asks her on a date, then.”

You knocked on the door of Eddie’s trailer, waiting for him to answer. When he finally answered the door he looked up at you and smirked, “well, hello there, wasn’t expecting you to come over tonight,” he said, leaning against the door with a smirk. "Not that I'm complaining at all."

“Hey, Eds,” you smiled, looking at him. “Can I come in? I think I left my bra here the last time we uh, smoked,” you said, lying.

“Oh, but of course, princess,” he said, stepping to the side. He allowed you in and you walked into his room, going towards his dresser.

He followed after you, watching as you moved around his room. “What do you need this bra for? I was enjoying having it in my collection,” he smirked, walking towards you.

You hummed, picking it up. “It’s my favorite and I have a date tonight,” you said, shrugging. Eddie stopped behind you, looking at you.

“A date?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. “With who?” He asked, getting defensive. He crossed his arms over his chest and looked at you, demanding an answer.

“Andy,” you replied. “I needed my favorite push up bra to help show off the goods. Thanks!” You said, walking past him. He grabbed your arm and stopped you, pulling you back towards him gently.

“With Andy? But, what about us?” He asked, looking at you.

You shrugged, “we’re causal,” you said, the word coming off as bitter. “I mean, that’s what you’re telling all the guys, right? So, I might as well try to find a guy that wants commitment and wants to be exclusive.”

He stopped, looking at you. “Come on, princess, that doesn’t mean you have to go on a date with Andy,” he argued, the grip on your arm tightening.

“You’re right,” you said, “but, maybe I want something that’s more than just casual.” You added, looking up at Eddie. “Maybe I want to feel like I’m a person instead of a fuck toy.” You took a step away from him and began to walk back towards the front door. “Clearly, we don’t see this, whatever it is, going the same place… so why continue to do this?” You asked, looking up at Eddie.

"Why not continue to do it?" He asked, stepping towards you again as he towered over you.

You looked up at him and shrugged, "I want a boyfriend, not a fuck buddy. I want commitment. And, it seems like you don't care about me," you replied.

"You don't seem to complain about commitment when I'm getting you off," Eddie smirked, looking at you. "Besides, you're mine, you can't just go off to another guy."

"I'm yours?" You asked, raising an eyebrow. "I don't recall ever being asked to be yours." You shrugged.

Eddie groaned, wrapping his arms around your waist as he pulled you flush to his body. "I didn't have to ask," he growled, leaning in closer to you. "You're mine," he repeated, kissing your lips roughly.

You groaned into the kiss, kissing him back as you wrapped your arms around his neck, dropping the bra to the ground. He pushed you down on the bed, pinning you down without breaking the kiss. He pulled away from the kiss and kissed up and down you're neck.

"You're mine, all of you. You belong to me." He groaned, squeezing your ass as he continued to kiss up and down your neck. "Now, say it," he mumbled, grinding his hips into yours.

"I'm yours," you mumbled, groaning at the feeling of his hips against yours. You closed your eyes gently and bucked your hips up against his.

"Louder," he said, pulling away from your neck. He wrapped his hand around your neck gently, forcing you to look at him. "Say it louder." He growled.

You opened your eyes, looking up at him, "I'm yours," you replied, struggling to catch your breath as he squeezed his hand around your neck a bit harder, the cool rings on his fingers pressing against the sensitive skin of your neck. "I'm yours," you breathed out louder.

"Good girl," he said, releasing his grip around your neck. "Now, shut up, stop talking back to me and let me make you feel good, princess," he said, yanking your pants and panties down.

You sighed, laying back on the bed as Eddie threw your pants and panties back behind him. He hoisted your thighs up over his shoulders and licked up and down your folds, causing a small moan to escape your lips.

“You’re mine,” he said, licking up and down your folds again. He squeezed your thighs gently, looking up at you as he placed soft kisses against your clit.

“I’m the only one that is allowed to do this, to have you, to make you feel good,” he said between kisses against your clit. "I'm the only one that gets to taste you," he added, sucking on your clit roughly.

You groaned, looking down at him as you moved your hand to his hair, pushing his head down. You tugged on his shaggy hair, moving your hips against his face.

He groaned against you, looking up at you as he moved his tongue to your core, thrusting it in and out of you. He caught your eyes, pulling you closer to him, eating you desperately.

Eddie's fingers dug into the plush skin of your thighs, creating subtle bruises from his nails and the rings that were scattered across his digits. You moaned at the feeling, throwing your head back against the pillow as you continued to grind against his face.

"Fuck, Eddie," you sighed, moaning so loud you swore the neighbors in his trailer park heard. And if they did? Well, he didn't care. He wanted people to know you were his. "God, fuck, I'm yours," you moaned out. "I'm yours and you're mine. No one else is allowed to do this. Allowed to have me. Allowed to make me feel so good. No one, fuck, no one else can taste me," you babbled on, feeling your high begin to build. "Only you, only your tongue, only your fingers, only your cock," you continued, moaning loudly as you clenched around nothing, releasing on his tongue and face.

Eddie groaned at your words, licking your juices up as he looked up at you. Once he was finished, he left kisses on your thighs, resting his head on your lower stomach.

"Fine, okay." He said softly, looking up at you. "Truth is, I'm terrified of commitment, but, I also don't want to lose you. I do care about you, and I do want to be with you. So, I guess, will you... be my girlfriend?" He asked, you looked down at him and smiled softly, running your fingers through his hair softly.

"Yeah," you said softly, smiling at him as you pulled him up to kiss his face. You left a soft kiss on his lips. "I'll be your girlfriend."

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steddielations · 2 years ago

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There’s a dog that comes around the trailer park when Eddie moves in with Wayne, back when his head was shaved and his eyes were still haunted by the walls of his dad's house. No one wanted to play with the gaunt looking weird kid, so the first friend he made in Hawkins was this big brown dog, way bigger than any others. It was almost scary, wolf-like but he acted like a puppy, nudging Eddie with his snout, cheering him up, always wanting to play like maybe it was lonely too.

Then Eddie made friends at school, the dog visited less as he got older and more sure of himself, denouncing cliques, especially the jocks who lorded over everyone. The dog stopped visiting entirely and Eddie started to worry something happened to it.

Years later, he spots it with Robin Buckley of all people. She’s talking to it, which might seem strange but Eddie always felt like the dog was a good listener too. After that, he tries to find his old friend again and one night, he catches a glimpse of him but he disappears into the woods.

Instead, Eddie sees Steve Harrington later that night, disheveled and dirtied, total opposite to his usual pristine polos and perfect hair. It’s so out of place, the first of many times that Eddie sees him while out looking for the dog. Eddie never says anything, can’t imagine Steve reacting well to a moonlight conversation with the freak. Sure, Steve was iced out of the popular crowd for reasons all around the rumor mill, made an odd match with Robin at their mall job before the fire, and weirdly enough the new Hellfire boys seem to worship the ground he walks on, but Eddie has no impression of Steve beyond that.

Then Chrissy Cunningham dies in his living room. Eddie runs like hell, terrified and ashamed, hiding in the boathouse. He feels like a scared kid again and finds himself wishing for the dog, his first friend that never judged him and always made him feel safe.

That’s when an unlikely group shows up and Eddie has no time to hide, like they tracked him there by scent. Steve Harrington rushes right to him with big brown puppy eyes that feel so familiar somehow, so comforting. Stunned, Eddie lets Steve wrap him in a warm hug, nuzzling his ear with soft assurances, “Hey, it’s okay. I’m so glad we found you. You’re okay.”

To Eddie's amazement, his body just melts into Steve’s embrace, like greeting an old friend.

#secret born-werewolf steve anyone #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #werewolf steve harrington #rueswriting #mp

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steddieas-shegoes · 10 months ago

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if you look deep enough into steve’s eyes, the colors start to shift from a medium-brown to light, almost golden, like his hair in the summer, like his skin when it’s wet.

eddie finds himself noticing these things more often as the year after vecna passes. on the anniversary of nearly dying, eddie thinks he’s noticed everything about steve.

but then steve shows up at his door after dropping the kids off at their respective homes, a smile on his face, and something mysterious in his eyes. something that distracts eddie from the golden specks the reflect off his porch light. something that only eddie really gets to see.

“wanna take a ride?”

“where you taking me, big boy?”

steve blushes, a soft pink that would be warm to the touch if eddie was brave enough to reach out.

“it’s a surprise.”

eddie trusts steve, so he gets in his car and doesn’t ask anymore questions.

steve talks about something dustin did on the way, complaining with a fondness only steve could have for the kid.

it hits eddie as steve pulls onto a side road.

the field.

the wildflowers bloomed early this year, and eddie had mentioned recently that he would like to make new memories in a place where he was facing death or prison exactly one year ago.

he didn’t think anyone was listening, but apparently steve was.

steve parks the car and eddie doesn’t think he can look at him yet. he thinks he’s gonna cry. he thinks he’s so deeply in love with this man that he may never experience anything like it again.

it’s dark, but the moon is bright. there’s still a light chill in the air, but eddie’s still wearing his leather jacket from hellfire earlier, so he barely feels it.

they walk together through the field, close enough that their hands brush, but still more distance between them than eddie wants. he’s surrounded by beauty: the flowers, the stars, steve.

he stops when steve does.

they both look up at the stars for a few minutes, silent so they can hear the crickets and their own heartbeats.

“a year ago, when i almost lost you, i thought about all the things i didn’t get to do or say or know about you. i was angry for a long time.” steve turns to eddie, giving him a sad smile. “it wasn’t fair that you had to go through all of that and i couldn’t do anything. the doctors weren’t doing enough, and the cops weren’t doing enough, and no one understood how important it was that they fix it.”

eddie’s watching him, baffled. he’s not sure where this is going and he’s worried that his own feelings may be clouding his vision.

“i couldn’t make your pain go away. i couldn’t make it easier. i couldn’t help you walk again or play guitar. i just had to watch.”

eddie feels a tug in his stomach, a pull that leaves him breathless.

“but i watched. and i saw every side of you. and i don’t think i’ll say this right, but i practiced with robin and she thinks i did good.” steve breathes in and turns to face eddie completely. “i learned a side of me that i didn’t know about while i watched you. i learned that love looks different than what i always thought. and i learned that because of you.”

“because of…me?” eddie’s trying not to get his hopes up, but he’s pretty sure they’re higher than ever.

“because you love so loudly. everyone you love knows it and you aren’t scared that they’ll run away. it’s probably because it’s impossible not to love you.”

eddie thinks he actually is experiencing some kind of post-death dream. maybe he got too high in his room and steve never even showed up at his door.

“eddie? did you hear me?”

eddie focuses on steve’s look of concern, on the golden specks in his eyes that the moonlight makes shimmer.

“i don’t know?”

“i said i love you.”

“oh. then, no, i didn’t.”

steve’s face falls and eddie realizes a second too late that his response to steve saying he loves him wasn’t the exact thing he’d been holding back for at least six months now.

“i just thought you should know. um. so i guess i can wait in the car if you wanna stay a bit longer-“

eddie is only staying in this field if steve is with him, so he wraps his arms around steve’s shoulders and hugs him harder than is probably safe.

“i love you. sorry i’m a dumbass and didn’t say it the second you did. i was trying to convince myself this was real life.”

steve laughs against his ear and eddie’s pretty sure they belong like this.

“why now?” eddie asks as he pulls away.

“because i told myself if you didn’t do it by today, i would.”

“how long have you been waiting on me?”

steve lets out a breath. “eight months give or take.”

“that is…much longer than i would’ve expected.”

“yeah, well, imagine being the one waiting.”

eddie smiles at steve, and steve smiles back, and eddie notices a new thing.

steve harrington’s got a crooked tooth. an imperfection to some, a sign of being human to eddie.

“what’s that face for?” steve asks.

“you’re perfect, stevie.”

they kiss in the field where eddie was saying goodbyes a year ago. they look at stars in a clear sky while holding hands and talking about what their future might look like. steve’s head rests in eddie’s lap while eddie traces steve’s lips with his finger, memorizing the curl of his lips when he smiles and the feel of the vibrations when he hums a song eddie doesn’t recognize.

steve picks flowers, and eddie makes a crown, and they both say i love you in a million ways.

they walk along the edges of the field, where the rv was parked while they prepared for the worst. eddie shivers at the memories, but steve kisses his shoulder and the back of his hand and he shivers at that instead.

they ride back, and eddie sings along to whatever songs play on the radio, even if he messes up the words. steve laughs and it’s better than any music they could listen to.

they kiss on eddie’s porch, surrounded by darkness because no one turned on the outside light. it’s so late, no one would see them anyway.

steve stays at eddie’s, but wayne’s home, so they’re quiet and keep their hands above the waist even though they so desperately want to touch, and kiss, and bite every inch of each other.

they still get carried away, which doesn’t surprise eddie at all. what does surprise eddie is how quickly steve sits in his lap, rutting against his stomach and biting back moans and whimpers and eddie laces their fingers together and squeezes, meeting each thrust with his own. neither of them last long, coming in their pants like virgins. they laugh, but they kiss through it, teeth clacking as they gasp for breath.

they take turns in the bathroom in case wayne wakes up. steve comes back into eddie’s room without a shirt and hair slightly damp. eddie feels his heartbeat quicken as steve hops into bed next to him.

they sleep with steve curled against eddie’s chest, eddie’s arms around his back, sweaty but content.

content and happy.

and when the sun rises the next morning, eddie wakes first and notices another new thing about steve: he drools in his sleep.

#so this was supposed to be my pop up drabble next month #but then i got carried away #and it’s no one’s fault but my own #so now it just exists and i’ll have to write something else #oh darn #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #drabble #getting together #love confessions

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zae-heeyyy · 2 months ago

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Assuage

Summary: Arthur helps you relax. Pairing: Arthur Morgan X Female!Reader Word Count: 1,269 Tags: developing relationship, very light angst, fluff, Clemens Point, high honor

an: This was an anon request. Not a lot going on here. Simple and sweet. Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoy!

Assuage: to lessen the intensity of (something that pains or distresses)

Sloshing buckets of water weighed a thousand pounds in your clammy grip as scorching heat spread like a brush fire from your stomach. This pain had been gnawing at you for weeks, and no doctor could give you a precise diagnosis or cure. Rest, eat frequently, avoid alcohol.

They didn’t know the lifestyle of a woman in the Van Der Linde Gang.

Obedience had never come easy, so last night, when Arthur offered you a swig of whiskey, his crooked smile crinkling the corners of his eyes, you couldn’t deny him. The golden liquid stung like hellfire going down. Still, a combination of its intoxicating effects and a new closeness to the cowboy soothed the deep-seated ache in your belly. As moonlight glimmered above the lake, you wiggled your toes in the sand and failed to stifle a yawn.

“Don’t let me keep ya’, Miss.”

“It’s no trouble, Arthur.”

When you shivered, part from the lake breeze and part from discomfort, he opened his arm like a drawbridge, inviting you into the safety of his castle. You scooted in, stiff, but when his hand found your stomach, heavy and warm like a compress, the tension drained like water bled from a moat. You didn’t move for the rest of the night, forged against his iron-like muscle.

Now, the next morning, regret was setting in. The whiskey irritated whatever beast had made its home inside of you, its claws burrowing deep. Trying to stay steady on your feet, you squeezed your eyes shut and froze. But the cramps expanded outward, turning all your muscles into stone. Before you could set them down, the buckets slipped from your fingers and crashed to the ground in a piercing clatter.

Catching the edge of a nearby table, you sucked in air through your nose, puffed out through your mouth, and futilely willed yourself invisible. But your prayers fell on deaf ears because, in another second, a pair of familiar hands sank into the padding of your hips.

“Hey, you alright?”

“M’fine, just spilled some water.”

As you reached for the fallen buckets, the ground came at you fast. Before you ate the dirt, Arthur hauled you backward into his unmoving brick frame.

“Y’shoar as hell don’t look fine.”

“I am, really.”

You tried to meet his unbelieving gaze earnestly, but the color drained from you as bile burned at the back of your throat. Arthur didn’t wait for another fabricated explanation before he dragged you away to the shade of his tent, grumbling.

“Can’t be pushing yerself so hard, woman. You crazy?”

His palms clasped firmly onto your shoulders, silently commanding you to stay put as he stepped away. You sank into the fluffy cloud that was his pillow, but it brought you little comfort as you drifted aimlessly through the storm of your pain.

His voice rumbled from the sky of the phantasmagoria you were lost in, and your mind followed the sound back to the waking world.

“You still alive?”

You whimpered in acknowledgment, and your eyes fluttered open to find him watching you.

“There she is.” His lips formed into a soft curve as he caressed your forehead with his knuckles. “You jus’ relax. I’m gonna go talk to Dutch and keep Miss Grimshaw off your heels. Don’t go anywhere, now.”

Your mouth parted as you tried to sit up, but he raised a brow and raised a finger, shushing you. Defeated, you swallowed and sank back down, staring up at the canvas of the tent and folding your hands over the source of your affliction.

Time dawdled on when you were sitting still. If only some mad scientist could invent a machine that took pictures of your insides, you could finally figure out what was wrong with you and fix it. Having folks, especially Arthur, fuss over you sat almost as heavy as the pain. Yeah, you’d rest, you told yourself—just until Arthur returned. Then you’d get back to it.

And when he ducked back into the tent, you tried to swing your legs over the cot, but he caught your ankle and settled it into his lap as he sank at the foot of the bed. With a sharp glance, he tugged at the shoestring of your boot.

“Spoke to Dutch. You’re on bedrest for the next few days.”

“But—”

With a swift pull, he removed the boot and dropped it to the ground.

“Don’t wanna hear it.”

A silent joust between your leg and Arthur’s grip ensued, and you lost quickly, pouting in your defeat.

“Arthur, I can’t just lay here. I have to—”

“Quit yer yappin,’ and let somebody help you for a change.”

Your other boot hit the ground, and he tucked your feet back together with assertive force, glaring at you.

“Whatever happened to a woman listening to her man?”

Your heart burst against your ribs, and oxygen fled from your brain, leaving you dizzy and wordless.

“Mmm,” he hummed in amusement. “That finally shut you up? Thought I was gonna have t’climb up there.”

When you still didn’t say anything, only gawked at him, his hand shot to the back of his neck in embarrassment.

“M’sorry, I just thought that we—the past few weeks—I should’ve—”

Even though the contraction of your muscles made the sore spot in your abdomen ache evermore, you managed to choke out a laugh. “You’re a fool, Arthur Morgan, a sweet, sweet fool.”

As his smile returned, his shoulders relaxed, and he rolled his eyes playfully.

“I can get behind the fool part, but I don’t know too much about bein’ sweet.”

You wanted to laugh again, but your amusement was short-lived. You hugged your arms around your midsection, frown etched deep.

“You gone to a doctor ’bout that, yet?”

Arthur had noticed, after all, despite your best efforts to hide it from him, and you hated it— hated being another burden for him to carry on his shoulders with the rest of the world. And like he was reading your mind, he rubbed your leg reassuringly.

“You ain’t easy t’ignore. Not t’me.”

“Guess I ain’t doing a good job of hiding it.”

He shook his head and put his hand over yours on your belly.

“Don’t gotta hide anything from me, darlin. Ain’t got much, and I ain’t no doctor, but whatever you need, jus’ say the word.”

But that was just the thing—you didn’t want to say it—that you wanted to take him up on his offer to climb in bed with you. But the fear of missing the opportunity overpowered your fear of rejection.

“Stay, please? Just for a little while.”

Your heart plummeted when his hand left yours, but you watched as he took off his boots and joined you in the cot. He spooned you, both of you turning on your side, him rubbing soothing circles on your center.

“That help?”

Truthfully, it didn’t make the hurt go away, but you nodded anyway because another feeling, solace, was slowly forming beside it. You shifted to face him, using your arm to support your head.

“What?”

“Your woman,” you smiled, and he brushed your hair out of your face.

“If that’s alright wi’you, miss.”

Your eyes trailed down to his lips, and you closed the gap between you. He cupped your cheek as your lips moved in sync with each other. Sharp pain nagged at your insides, but his presence alone brought a semblance of peace to your tumultuous mind. You supposed you could spend the rest of the day like this, wrapped up in the cowboy. Dutch’s orders didn’t sound so terrible, after all.

#rdr2 #arthur morgan #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 community #rdr2 photography #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan x you #arthur morgan fluff #arthur morgan fanfiction #rdr2 arthur #zaefic

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capybaramurdock · 12 days ago

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✦ BURNING IN THE SHAPE OF YOU MASTERLIST ✦

pairing: matt murdock x afab reader setting: dungeons & dragons fantasy au rating: mature warnings: canon-typical violence, religious themes, grief, betrayal, blood mention, divine silence, corrupted justice, moral conflict, slow descent into darkness

A/N: This fic is intended to be Reader Insert. "Silver" is a name given to the reader character by her order, not a given name. The only descriptors used are she/her pronouns and that she has pale, silverish, moonlight hair—a common trait among followers of Selûne in this setting. Please feel free to self-insert as much or as little as you'd like. 🕊️

༺ ⚖️ ༻

Summary: Once, Matt Murdock served justice. As a paladin of Tyr, he lived by the law—until it failed the innocent one time too many. In the silence of unanswered prayers, he fell… and something darker answered. Now bound to a hellforged blade and branded by the archdevil Zariel, he carves a path through corruption with fire and fury—no longer a servant of order, but a weapon of judgment.

Silver, a moon elf paladin of Selûne, is sent to stop him. Her order, the Waning Light, guides the lost home—not to punish, but to redeem. And in Matt, she sees the flicker of a light not yet extinguished.

When she binds him in chains of moonlight, their journey should end. Instead—it begins.

💀 Act I: The Fall (Chapters 1–3)

Chapter 1 – The Fall: ⚖️

Chapter 2 – Ashen Oath: 🗡️

Chapter 3 – Chains of Moonlight ⛓️

✯ Act II: Holy Custody (Chapters 4–6)

Chapter 4 – Mercy in Silence 🛐

Chapter 5 – Embers & Echoes 😠

Chapter 6 – The Breaking Point 💔

🌘 Act III: The Unraveling (Chapters 7–9)

Chapter 7 – Dreams of Fire 💭

Chapter 8 – When Light Falters ⚔️

Chapter 9 – Where Shadows Wait 🌒

🌕 Act IV: The Trial (Chapters 10–12)

Chapter 10 – Kindling the Dawn 🌸

Chapter 11 – A New Oath 🌞

Chapter 12 – Burn Bright for Me 💞

✩ Act V: The Dawn (Chapters 13–15)

Chapter 13 – As One Flame 🔥

Chapter 14 – The Light That Remains 🌅

Chapter 15 – In the Shape of You 💗

💕Matt and Silver’s Character Sheets💕

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every-moment-a-different-sound · 2 months ago

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Happiest anniversary to @dear-lucrow, hope you have an amazing day 💜💜💜

Using @tragedy-machine's gorgeous art (Payne and Rowland) of Lu's amazing fic!! Everyone please read it if you haven't already, or have a re-read if you have read it before, it's the perfect way to spend the anniversary!!!

Devil on my Shoulder

Despite himself, Charles was mesmerized by this strange version of Edwin Payne that had something of Hellfire to him. And he was so very close … “His eyes are decidedly less honest than yours. Intriguing... Never pegged Charles Rowland for a liar.” “Careful, luv.” The voice was a sing-song drawl, accompanied by the same scraping sound drawing ever closer. “You know I get jealous.” There, lit faintly by moonlight, was Charles Rowland – face pale, grin wide and eyes cast in shadows, twirling a cricket bat that had been studded with nails glinting wickedly like iron stars. “What you think, Win? I say there can only be one.” A string of grave robbings leads the Dead Boy Detectives to stumble into a ritual, summoning versions of themselves, who have experienced a very different afterlife. Not only is there a pack of hellhounds on their heels, they also won’t stop at chaos nor bloodshed to carve out their place in the world – and remove their superfluous doppelgangers in the process. As Crystal desperately tries to master her powers and keep the fabric of reality from unraveling, the boys need to stop their nefarious doubles. To make matters infinitely more confusing, the two delinquents are madly in love...

#dead boy detectives #dbda #charles rowland #edwin payne #gif warning #dbda gifs #mygifs

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hippiegoth97 · 11 months ago

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Heat of The Moment: Eddie Munson x Reader

Collage by me :)

Master List

Tag List: @keikoraven @ar-jupiter @alcielo1438 @cairro-xx @stolen-in-moonlight

@micheledawn1975 @janiejenn @rafescurtainbangz @melodymunson @spacedoutdaydreamer

@veemoon @sariahs-stuff @feral-pumpkin-energy @comeonatmebruh @munsoneightysixx

@morgthemagpie @josephquinnsfreckles @jenniquinn @usergeta @cometzombie

@spookybabey @daggerdaggerkitten @nina6708 @sanctumdemunson @yourdailymemedelivery

@person-005 @slowandsteddie @gri959 @elegantkoalapaper @letitgoandletlive

@loserboysandlithium @costellation-hunter @leelei1980 @h-ness1944 @pretendthisnameisclever

@ohmeg @stalactitekilla @hellfirenacht @birdysaturne @oneforthemunny

@prettyboyeddiemunson @eddievanmunson @msgexymunson @rattkween86 @violetpixiedust

@bimbobaggins69 @angel-munson @eldermayfield @munsonsbtch @babygorewhore

@mediocredreams @xxbimbobunnyxx @taintedcigs @ali-r3n

Description: You're best friends with Eddie, but you're also secretly in love with him. You struggle to hide your feelings, until a visit to Lover's Lake makes you unable to keep up the act anymore. Thankfully, things go better than you expect...

Content Warning 18+ Only, Minors DNI: smut, swearing, female reader, jealousy, crying, lots of angsty feelings, friends to lovers, metalhead!reader, drug references/use, grinding, fingering, oral sex, unprotected sex, praise/degradation, squirting

Word Count: 5.5k

Divider by @strangergraphics-archive

Heat of The Moment

You've been close friends with Eddie Munson since high school. You remember not fitting in with anybody, and then Eddie took you under his wing. He showed you how to play D&D, and all of his metal band cassette tapes. Soon after, you joined the Hellfire Club and became a full-blown metalhead. You cut your hair short and dyed it funky colors, and wore a beaten leather jacket covered in pins and patches. Your jeans were always torn, and Converse adorned your feet at all times. You even had your nose pierced, much to your mother's dismay. Your eyes were always smoky with eyeliner, and dark red lipstick made your mouth look absolutely sinful. You made guitar pick earrings and a matching necklace to wear, Eddie had generously given the picks to you. You'd even made him a necklace as well, and he gave you the biggest bear hug when you gifted it to him on his birthday. You were hoping for a kiss, but you took whatever affection you could get from Eddie.

Years later, you'd both just squeaked by to graduate, you never took your grades very seriously. You don't see the point of doing what everyone in life pushed on you. College, marriage, kids, the house with the white picket fence. It all seems so hollow, and you want no part in it. You instead choose to focus on Eddie. You play D&D with him regularly, and he recently decided to teach you how to play the guitar. Some days you just get high and listen to Metallica or Dio in his trailer. Any time you can spend by his side, you jump at the chance. You couldn't help falling in love with him, but you're sure he doesn't feel the same. He treats you like a sister, a best friend. He always picks other girls to go out with and screw. It's not like you aren't a catch, you've been with plenty of guys. But none of them make you feel the way Eddie does, so you’ve never formed a long-term relationship with any of them. You can barely remember their names, they don't matter to you at all.

It always hurts you to see Eddie with other girls, kissing and giggling with them. They sit in his lap after his shows, practically humping him on the couch in his trailer. It always makes you want to scream, or vomit. That should be you, not some whore who doesn't care about him. So you try your best to act unbothered, bringing your own dates to distract yourself. You eventually fuck them on the couch while Eddie takes whatever girl he brought home to his bed.

But the whole time you're having sex with someone else, you can hear what’s happening in his bedroom. It makes you want to burst into tears, but you just pretend you don't hear. Or worse, you pretend the random guy you’re with is Eddie instead. You always feel disgusted afterwards though, you're just using random men to fill a gaping hole inside your heart. Not only that, you don't even pretend to like them. They all have blank faces, no names to you. You fill in the blanks when it comes time to screw them, pasting Eddie where you want him most. But they never perform the way you imagine he would. They don't care about you, or your pleasure. Once they're done, they leave. You're left laying on the couch afterwards, hearing noises from the bedroom with your clothes still removed or undone. It's here that you always lose the battle with your tears, letting them out silently to make sure the lovebirds aren't disturbed. You eventually get yourself together, wiping your tears away before Eddie escorts his girl to the door.

"You okay?" He always asks after he lets his whore out, taking notice of your puffy eyes and streaky eyeliner.

"Yeah, I’m fine. Just another asshole." It isn't necessarily a lie, the guys you pick blindly usually don't treat you very well.

"Maybe you need to find someone you actually like, Y/N. You deserve to be happy." He kneels in front of you, wiping your eyes carefully. He looks into your eyes, and opens his mouth to say something. But he always closes it again, and shakes his head slightly. "Let me drive you home." And he always does, trying his best to cheer you up on the way. Telling jokes, blasting music, swerving the van playfully on the road. He does everything he can to get your tears to stop. It always works too, he shines so bright in your life. He makes everything better, any troubles you have melt away when you're with him. He parks and walks you to the door of your apartment like a true gentleman, telling you goodnight. You say the same, and burst into tears all over again when you close the door behind you and you're sure he won't hear. You cry so hard your chest hurts, and your throat is left raw from sobbing.

You eventually run out of tears for the night, crawling into bed with all your clothes still on, too tired to remove them. You lay in bed yearning for Eddie for hours, picturing what being his girlfriend could be like. It's oddly comforting, playing pretend in your head while you curl up in the blanket. You drift off to sleep with thoughts of the man you love swirling in your mind. And in the morning, the cycle starts again. Wake up, D&D/guitar lessons, van hangout, work, Eddie's show, back to his trailer, meaningless sex, crying, drive home, crying again, sleep. At some point this routine is sure to kill you, you can't keep going like this. You'll tell Eddie how you feel the next time you see him. And then you can either be with him, or put these pesky feelings behind you if he only sees you as a friend.

It's a Saturday afternoon, and you're getting ready to see Eddie. It's just the two of you today, you'll be going to Lover's Lake to hang out in his van. You both like the lake, not because of its name but because it's always peaceful there. The reflections of the surrounding woods on the water, birds flying overhead, a cool breeze brushing through the trees. It's nice and quiet, making you feel like it's just you and Eddie in the world. You're just about finished applying your smudgy eyeliner when you hear Eddie honking outside. You almost stab yourself with your eye pencil when the sound startles you. You toss it on your vanity, checking yourself over to make sure you look good. Your makeup is flawless, your outfit is badass as ever, and you don’t have a single hair out of place. You smile at your own reflection, eager to go with Eddie so you can tell him how you feel. You grab your bag, rushing out of your apartment and down the stairs. You run over to the van, yanking the passenger door open. You slide into your seat, tossing your bag in the back.

"Hey there, Y/N. How are you doing on this fine afternoon?" He smirks at you, looking you up and down. You seem extra put together today, he wonders if he's the reason for it. He pushes the thought from his head, there's no way you think of him like that.

"Hey, Eddie. I'm alright I guess." You say quietly, feeling his eyes on you. You look at him, meeting his wandering gaze. Did he just check me out?, you wonder. No way, he wouldn't do that.

"You 'guess'? That doesn't sound like the Y/N I know. Well, hopefully some time at the lake will brighten your mood, hm?" He puts his hand on your knee, rubbing it comfortingly. You tense at his touch, almost holding your breath. The skin where his hand is feels tingly with anticipation. "Seriously, though. Are you feeling okay? You've been kinda off lately." He's genuinely concerned about you, you've been acting weird around him recently. Whenever he touches you, it makes you all jumpy, and you've been crying a lot too. He hopes he hasn't upset you somehow, he truly cares for you. He likes you a lot, more than he'd readily admit. But he figures you only see him as a friend.

"I'm fine, Eddie. Let's just go to the lake, okay?" You reply, almost annoyed. You look out the window, waiting for him to start driving. Eddie sighs, taking his hand off your knee. He grips the steering wheel, and drives out of the parking lot. You both ride in silence on the way to the lake, but Eddie can't help looking over at you every so often. You refuse to meet his gaze, keeping your eyes focused on any sights outside the window as you ride past. Any enthusiasm or bravery you had about telling Eddie you love him is slipping away from your grasp.

Eddie continues to glance at you as he goes his usual route to the lake. Something is definitely off with you, he can see a sad expression on your face reflecting back at him in the window you keep staring out of. He doesn't know exactly why you seem so down, but he hopes you'll at least talk to him about it.

You finally reach the lake, and Eddie parks the van in your usual spot. He kills the engine, turning in his seat to face you. "So, are you gonna tell me what's going on, Y/N? Did I make you upset or something?" You turn to face him, looking into his eyes. His expression makes your heart break. He thinks he's hurt you, but it's been you hurting yourself because of how you feel about him.

"No, Eddie. You didn't do anything. I'm just being stupid, I promise." You reach forward to take his hands into yours. He lets you, and you stroke his rings, taking comfort in how the cool metal feels under your thumb. You want to keep talking, but it's like your mouth has been sewn shut.

"So what is it then? And I'm sure it's not stupid, Y/N. But you seem so sad lately, and you practically wince whenever I touch you. Just tell me what's wrong, darling. There's nothing you could say that would make me like you any less." He implores you to open up to him. He wants to help, however he can.

"I wouldn't be so sure about that, Eds." You manage to reply, and your gaze falls to your joined hands. Your heart is pounding in your chest, and your palms are sweating beyond belief. You feel sick, like you can't breathe. You can't do this. It'll ruin everything, and then Eddie won't want to see you anymore. You try to hold back, but your tears fight their way from your eyes, dripping onto the floor. Eddie's hands leave your grasp, grabbing the sides of your face to make you look at him again.

"Hey, hey. Y/N, please don't cry. Whatever it is, please just tell me. I can't stand seeing you so unhappy, princess." Seeing you like this makes his heart smash into a million pieces. He wants to make it better, but he doesn't even know what the problem is. You start to panic, your breaths come out fast and shallow. You start feeling dizzy, and you wish you could just run and hide. But you can't, Eddie won't let you go.

"I can't do this, Eddie. It'll ruin everything. And then you won't like me anymore. And I can't live with that." You choke the words out between sobs, your face turning a deep shade of scarlet. You're so embarrassed, and you just want to drop it. "Please, just forget it. We can pretend this never happened and I'll stop being an idiot. Please, I-" Eddie interrupts you by bringing his lips to yours. Your sobs stop, but your body still shudders a bit. You return the kiss, it's gentle and warm. A few more tears slide down your cheeks, and then Eddie breaks the kiss. He smiles at you, letting go of your face to hold your hands again.

"You know, if you were in love with me, all you had to do was say so." His smile grows wider when you gasp at his words. You open your mouth to protest, or put yourself down, but he places a finger over your lips to keep you quiet. "It's alright, darling. I promise you haven't ruined anything. I should've guessed this is why you've been acting so strange. I just didn't think you'd feel the same way about me as I do about you." Your eyes widen, you can't believe he's actually been in love with you this whole time.

You move his finger from your mouth, and grab his shirt collar. You pull him into you, smashing your lips together. He groans as you almost make him fall from his seat, but he hungrily reciprocates the kiss. He bites your bottom lip, making you moan. He slips his tongue in, and you battle for dominance. He wins out, frantically leading you to the back of the van. There's pillows and blankets thrown about, making a comfortable landing place for you. You fall onto your back, with Eddie on top of you. You finally break the kiss, stroking his face with the back of your hand. "You have no idea how many times I've wished for this, Eddie. I've loved you for so long, but I didn't think I could ever tell you. You always chose other girls over me."

"I know, and I was a fuckin' idiot. I only did that because I thought you didn't want me. We could've saved so much time, so much heartbreak. I can't begin to tell you how often I imagined those other girls were you instead." You laugh in shock at what he’s said. Him, fantasizing about you? You can't believe it. This whole time, he’s only wanted you. "That's not weird, is it?" He asks, blushes slightly at his little confession.

"Not at all, Eddie. If I'm being honest, I did the same thing with all those assholes I brought to the trailer. But I don't think they came even close to pleasing me like I imagine you could."

"Jesus, we're a couple of sick fucks, aren't we?" He chuckles, shaking his head.

"No. We were just painfully oblivious to each other's true feelings." You giggle, staring into his eyes. You wrap your arms around his neck, bringing him closer to you. Your lips meet again, slow and sensual this time. The temperature in the van begins to rise, you feel your blood boiling in your veins. Eddie's hands grip your waist, and his left knee goes between your legs. He's creating friction on your clothed core, causing you to moan. His lips leave yours, moving to your jaw, and your neck. He plants open-mouthed kisses on your skin, occasionally sucking the flesh to leave hickies on you. "Fuck, Eddie. You're really good at this." You sigh blissfully, letting every sensation wash over you.

"I should hope so, I've had plenty of practice." He says between kisses, smirking like an idiot. One of his hands leaves your waist to grope your tits through your shirt. You arch your back off the floor of the van, gasping at his touch. "You make such pretty noises, princess." He whispers in your ear. "I can't wait to hear what you sound like when you cum." His words make you so wet, and his knee grinding on you feels so good. Every move Eddie makes sets your insides on fire, intense waves of pleasure washing over you. He's got you so wound up, soaking through your panties. Not long now until he pushes you over the edge.

"If you keep going the way you are, it won't take much." You moan out, your hands tangling in his hair. You tug on it roughly, and he groans into your neck.

"Careful, Y/N. It's dangerous to push my buttons like that." He grins at you, pulling you to sit up. He places you on top of him, his thigh positioned between your legs. You're sitting on your knees, and Eddie grips your hips in his hands. "Ride my thigh, darling. I want you to make yourself cum for me." He says lowly, his eyes burning with lust as they gaze into yours. You do as he says, slowly moving your hips on him. Eddie keeps your pace steady, helping you into the right angle to hit the spot where you need him most. You place your hands on his shoulders for leverage, increasing your pace on him. He just sits there watching you closely, drinking in every moan and curse that falls from your lips.

The waves are crashing into you now, threatening to pull you under. You're sweating through your clothes, and your pussy is impossibly wet. "Fuck, Eddie. I'm so close." You moan loudly, digging your nails into his shoulders.

"Keep going, princess. Make a mess all over me. Let me hear those pretty moans." His words spur you on further, and you grind yourself on him as fast as you can. You're panting wildly, feeling wave after wave rolling into you. Eddie moves to bite down into your neck, which sends you falling over the edge.

"Oh, god!" You scream, your legs try to snap shut as stars fill your vision. Eddie holds you into his chest, keeping you upright as your orgasm rips through you. You keep gripping his shoulders, gasping for air as you ride out your high. You fall backwards after your body has calmed down. You just lay here like a starfish, trying to collect your thoughts. You're staring at the roof of the van, breathing heavily. Eddie lays down on his side next to you. His head is propped up with one hand, and the other slowly strokes your arm up and down.

"How are you feeling, love?" He asks, looking down at you with kind eyes.

"Good. Uh, great, actually." You say awkwardly, glancing at him briefly. "I've never done that before. Not…cum, I've done that plenty. I just mean, the whole...um, grinding on you thing. I didn't expect it to have such an effect on me." You can't help your cheeks burning. You feel silly, babbling words at Eddie like this.

"Relax, Y/N. You don't have to be embarrassed about anything with me, you know that." You look at him again, seeing genuine affection in his eyes. You nod, turning your body to face his. You get as close to him as you can, and he wraps his arms around you. You kiss him again, but it's much softer now. Your heart melts, and you pull him even closer. He breaks away, speaking quietly. "Do you want more, sweetheart?"

"Yes, please." You reply just as quietly. You're not sure why you're both being so quiet, but it feels right. This moment feels so intimate, and you never want it to end. You lay on your back again after removing your jacket. He takes his own off too, the climate inside the van is like a sauna.

"Take your shirt off for me, princess." You obey his command, tossing it away. Eddie's right hand immediately goes to massage one of your breasts over your bra, making you gasp. His eyes gaze over your body, almost in awe of how beautiful you look. After a moment of staring, he lifts your torso to reach behind you. He expertly unclasps your bra, pulling it off you with ease. His breath hitches when your tits are exposed for him, your nipples hardened from arousal. "You're so gorgeous, baby.'' You blush at his compliment, a small giggle escaping your lips. Eddie lowers his head to your chest, kissing the valley between your breasts. You moan, gripping his long locks again. He peppers wet kisses on every last inch of you, leaving no flesh untouched. From the curves of your tits, to your ribs underneath, his lips leave a scorching trail as he moves. Once he's satisfied with his work, he swirls his tongue around one of your nipples before taking it into his mouth.

"Eddie." You whimper as he worries his teeth on the sensitive bud. His hand gropes your other breast, squeezing it roughly. Once he's left you properly marked, Eddie repeats the same actions on the other side. You tug on his hair again, making him groan. You love hearing the effect you have on him, most guys are too shy to make noises. But Eddie isn't most guys, especially when he's around you. You tug again harder, and he moans even louder. He stops kissing your chest, looking at you. His eyes are dark, swirling with pure lust.

"You love playing with danger, don't you, princess?" He flashes you a devilish grin.

"Maybe." You smile back at him. "But I love the noises you make when I touch you even more. Guys don't really do that, but it's so fucking hot."

"Is that so?" He asks, you just nod at him. "I'll keep that in mind, darling." He sits up to remove his shirt, and you can't help gawking at his body. He's toned, but slender, and his tattoos look so good on him. You get on your knees to feel him up. You run your hands up and down his chest, feeling as much of him as you can. "You like what you see, love?" He asks quietly. You look into his eyes, feeling passion overtake you. You grab him by the shoulders, and push him over as you bring your lips onto his in a bruising kiss. He grunts as he falls, grabbing your waist to take you with him. You straddle him when he lands, grinding yourself onto his stiffening cock. He groans into your mouth, gripping your hips roughly. "What's gotten into you, Y/N? You're so needy." Eddie chuckles as he breaks the kiss to take a breath.

"You'll see, Eds. Just lay down and relax." You grin slyly at him. He cocks an eyebrow, unsure of what you mean. You proceed to lick a long stripe from his collarbone to his jaw. You look at him again, grinning like a Cheshire cat. He just stares at you, wide-eyed. He's panting, awaiting your next move. You feel his dick growing even harder beneath you. You take that as a sign to keep going. You lean back down to his neck, biting down hard this time, then sucking the skin to make a dark bruise.

"Jesus, fuck." He moans out, spurring you on. You nibble his skin, trailing down his neck, to his chest, his stomach. Each move you take elicits whimpers and curses from Eddie's lips. Every sound is music to your ears, making you more and more wet whenever you hear one. You reach his belt, looking over your handiwork. Eddie's body is littered with teeth marks, and he's breathing heavily. You undo his belt, taking your time in order to tease him. Once it's open you unzip his jeans, pulling them down as Eddie kicks off his shoes. He's left in his boxers now, and a tent has formed in the thin fabric. You grip his waistband and yank his boxers down. His dick springs free, slapping his stomach before standing up straight.

You take his length in your hand, stroking him gently. He groans again, sweat beginning to form on his brow. He looks at you with pleading eyes. "You're very sexy when you're desperate, baby." Eddie's completely fucked for you, silently begging you to put him in your mouth. You happily oblige him, taking every last inch of him at once. You gag slightly when he hits the back of your throat, but you're persistent about keeping as much of him in as possible. You bob your head up and down, twirling your tongue around him as you go. He's constantly letting out lewd noises, which only serve to fuel your fire.

"Keep going, babe. But can you put your pussy towards me?" He asks, barely getting the words out. You position yourself where he wants you, and he makes frantic work of taking off your shoes and remaining clothes. You moan on Eddie's cock as you feel him stroking your slick folds. "You're so wet, darling. Is this all for me?" He asks as he slips two fingers into your cunt.

All you can manage to reply with is a muffled 'mmhmm' as he starts curling his digits inside you. Each stroke of Eddie's fingers makes you see stars, causing you to moan on him again and again. This in turn makes him groan and pick up his pace while fingering you. You feel Eddie's balls tightening, he's getting close. You speed up, working him harder and faster, gagging on him repeatedly. He takes this as a challenge to give you another orgasm, so he takes his fingers out of you, replacing them with his tongue. You scream on his length, feeling a fire beginning to build in your belly. His mouth licks and sucks on your clit mercilessly, pouring gasoline on the flames.

You're both driving each other mad as you compete to send the other over the edge. Moans fill the van as you near your highs, each lick and stroke pushing you further and further. Eddie's release comes first, and his mouth temporarily leaves your dripping cunt to moan your name as he cums down your throat. Once you've swallowed every drop, he sucks your clit into his mouth to make you topple over the edge. You scream his name as your legs begin to shake. Your orgasm rips through your body viciously, and you feel yourself cum onto Eddie's face. He holds you steady until your high subsides, licking up all your juices in the meantime.

You collapse onto him, practically gasping for air. You lay on your stomach for a moment, waiting for your vision to clear. Eddie strokes the backs of your legs affectionately. "You alive over there, Y/N?" He asks playfully.

"Yeah, just...wow. You're so fucking good at that." You sit up, back still facing him. His arms wrap around you from behind, his legs on either side of you. He kisses your shoulder, and your neck. His lips feel warm and soft against your skin, and you're already wanting more. You sigh as you cock your head to the side to give Eddie more access. He licks the length of your neck, stopping below your jaw. "Everything you do feels so good, Eddie." You sigh lustfully. You turn slightly to face him, looking at him from under your lashes. "Do you want to fuck me now?" You ask, biting your lip.

"Sure thing, dollface. Can you get on your hands and knees for me?" You nod silently, doing as he says. He kneels behind you, gently pressing you downwards. He leaves you resting on your elbows with your ass in the air. He grips his cock, brushing it between your soaked folds, drawing low moans from both of you. He teases you like this for a moment, eager to have you beg him to fuck you. You're so turned on it almost hurts, you need him inside you now.

"Eddie, please stop teasing. I need your dick inside me." You practically whine for him. He chuckles darkly at your pleading.

"Your wish is my command, princess." He says as he slams his cock into you.

"Oh, fuck!" You cry out as he hits your g spot perfectly.

"God, you're so wet and tight for me. Fuckin’ gorgeous." He pants, and he begins to thrust in and out of you. You moan continuously, he hammers your sweet spot with each thrust. He smacks your ass, making you yell.

"Fuck, Eddie!" You grip the scattered blankets beneath you for dear life, spots hinder your vision as you're fucked into next week. The sound of your vulgar noises and slapping skin is all you can hear, and it's like the most beautiful music in the world. You're loving every second of this, as is Eddie. But there's something else you crave from him. You don't just want Eddie to fuck you, you want him to do filthy things to you. "Babe, do you mind choking me while you fuck me?" You ask him as he continues to pound into your cunt.

He's taken aback by your request. Not because he's not into it, he definitely is. He's just surprised you want him to do that to you. But he finds your desires to be ridiculously sexy, and who is he to deny you? "Of course, darling. Anything you want." You can hear the smirk in his voice as his ringed hand comes forward, pulling you up by the shoulder. He lays on your back slightly so he can reach your throat. You feel the cool metal that adorns his fingers wrap around your neck, squeezing lightly. You choke out a moan as the pressure makes your head lighten. He loosens his grip for a moment as he continues to fuck you.

"Fuck, you're so hot, Eddie. Keep going. Fuck me, choke me, make me cum, please." You keep moaning and begging for Eddie to have his way with you, and he can't help but give you anything you ask for.

"You're such a dirty girl, Y/N. I fuckin’ love it." His grip on your throat tightens again, and he snaps his hips even harder into you. You're both slicked in sweat, struggling to keep your positions. You're nearing the end again, and you can already tell it's going to be the most intense orgasm you've ever had. Your skin is on fire, your insides like burning coals. Every feeling is amplified, concentrated in your pussy. Every time Eddie's cock enters you, it's like fireworks being set off.

Every curse and dirty request you let out makes Eddie's dick twitch. He can't believe how beautiful and sexy you are like this. He's genuinely in love with you, and his heart pounds in his chest as he races to the finish line. His free hand slithers down between your legs to your clit, rubbing quick circles. You gasp loudly, and his ringed hand tightens around your throat. He uses his arm to hold you in place, rubbing and fucking and choking you simultaneously. Eddie mentally congratulates himself on pulling off such a feat, but maintains focus on making you cum. "I'm so close, babe. Keep going, just like that." You say once his grip loosens again.

"I'm almost there too, princess. Be a good girl and cum for me." He pinches your clit between his fingers, sending you toppling over the edge.

"Eddie! Oh, fuck!" You scream so loud, and you feel your pussy clamp onto Eddie's dick. He groans, feeling his own high take over. He continues to hold you as your legs tremble violently, and juices spurt out of you onto the blankets.

"Jesus, Y/N!" He moans as your walls clench him. He feels your cum rush over his cock, spilling out of you. It feels unbelievable, he's never experienced anything like it. His load empties into you, mixing with your release as his hips buck compulsively a few times. Once Eddie regains composure, he pulls out of you. You whine at the loss, and your combined arousal slowly drips out of you. Eddie stares at the sight for a moment, before wiping it up with his finger. You moan at the overstimulation, and lay on your stomach as you cool down. Eddie lays beside you, trying to get your attention. You turn to him, seeing the gathered cum still on his finger. He brings it to your lips, and you immediately take it in your mouth. You suck it clean, moaning at the sweet taste. "Shit, could you be any hotter, Y/N?"

You just shrug and lean over to kiss him. He melts into you, caressing your cheek. The kiss feels different this time. It's slow and tender, full of love. You eventually break away, and you both lay down again. You place your head on his chest, and he wraps his arms around you. Your leg lays over Eddie’s as you try to be as close to him as possible. Your hand strokes his chest while he plays with your hair. "I love you, Eddie. I'm so glad I met you." You say, barely above a whisper.

"I love you too, Y/N. I don't think I've ever loved anyone like this before." He replies at the same volume. He pulls one of the blankets over the both of you, snuggling into you even more. You can't help but let your eyes flutter closed. You're so content like this. Your heart swells as Eddie's words echo in your mind as you drift off to sleep. He loves you, and you love him. Nothing could ruin this moment. The world could end and you wouldn't care, as long as you get to stay like this with Eddie.

The end.

#hippiegoth97 #fanfiction #smut #stranger things #eddie munson #hawkins #1980s #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x metalhead!reader #heavy metal

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godhandler · 9 months ago

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[Sukuna x possessed!reader, demonic possession, religious undertones, d/s relationship, body control, smut, manipulation and gaslighting, dubcon ig, nipple play, kinda fucked up <3]

It’s all in your head.

Dark bedroom. Moonlight outside. Smudged outlines of the nightlife out the window: distant club-goers, cars speeding down the street, flashy signs of 24/7 convenience stores.

You’re going insane, doll.

Blankets are too heavy, too warm, a coffin-like pressure burying you alive deep underground– tear it off, tear it off you. Your pyjamas are drenched in cold sweat, your hair stuck dirty onto your red forehead, brushing into your teary eyes. Itchy, irritating, everywhere. Tear if off, get off, get off me.

You strip off your clothes, your underwear, you try to scratch your skin-shell out. Get out, get away. It’s not working. He’s here. He’s in you.

I’m always inside you. You’re mine. My darling doll.

Ryomen Sukuna.

Yes, puppet? His voice echoes in your head, it mixes with your thoughts until you can’t separate you from him.

You’ve been seeing him out of the corner of your eye for a while now. A glimpse of a moving shadow here in the corners of your room… and then nothing. A breath down the back of your neck… and then nothing. A weight over your chest as you slept… and then nothing when you woke up. Each time he gets closer and bolder.

Don’t take my name in vain, doll. Come to me.

You are wrenched to stumble to the floor-length mirror beside the bed. Do you walk, or are you being walked? You can’t tell anymore. You can’t feel anything other than the intense burn in your left arm as Sukuna’s markings manifest onto it.

What do you say?

“Thank you,” you reply, sweet plaything that you are. In the mirror, you can see yourself clearly: your naked skin scratched red with your nails, your hair messed, his markings stamped onto your left, eyes possessed.

Sweat drips between the curve of your breasts. Your cries and gasps delight Sukuna as you lean over the mirror in pain again: the markings burn into your right arm now.

A reward for your pretty words. Don’t you want more, sweetheart?

Who says your words? Whose lips move when you speak? Who are you?

“I do, master. I want more.”

Your sobs are loud. But Sukuna says that this is all inside your head. And inside your head there is just you and him. No one will hear you cry and beg.

Sukuna’s markings hurt your pretty face as they appear. It’s a familiar pain now, one that claims a promise of something more. Lines across your cheeks, chin, nose and forehead. It’s as if he’s leaving kisses.

Look into the mirror. Who do you see?

“You.”

Who do you belong to?

“You.”

He’s pleased. Kneel, doll.

Down on your knees you await further burn. It trickles down your neck along with your tears, it caresses down your shoulders, it flows down your chest. Stings like hellish love.

Goosebumps. Tight breaths. A blush over your marked face. Your fingers move to wet them inside your mouth and then pinch your pebbled nipples. “Ahhh~” Sukuna enjoys you. “Master, nghh, ah~”.

Spread.

Your thigh split, your cunt exposed to the mirror. The final marks, around your thigh and right above your mons, sear into place. You have yet to recover from the pain when a hand leaves your breast and strokes through the patch of your womanly hair to spread your cunt open. Two pairs of hellfire eyes watch you. They watch you all the time. Everywhere. Inside and out.

He doesn’t let you touch, though. You simply kneel in that position, an open hole for display, your arousal dripping down your thighs and ass, every muscle pulled taut in your body, tits heaving as you puff and gulp, skin shining with moonlit sweat. Every inch of you is under his control.

Perfect as porcelain, my doll. His monstrous laughs sound and resound in your head until nothing else but him remains. Ryomen Sukuna. No one else. No one else understands. No one else can see. It's just you and him.

Your heart beats so desperately. You can taste him on your tongue. You can feel his many hands all over your stinging skin. You can’t think straight but– it must be– if you could but make sense of it–Sukuna–this must be love.

And just like that, it’s over. The markings are gone. You collapse onto the floor of your bedroom.

I’ll be back tomorrow night.

a/n: the italised and bold words are thoughts. which are of the possessed and which of the possessor?

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jessamine-rose · 1 year ago

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⋆˚♱ଘ Requiem for the Damned ଓ♱˚⋆

*holds head in hands* Idk why Dottore keeps haunting me with writing inspo. And for this idea to manifest just before Holy Week….fuck it, I hope you all enjoy the blasphemous tale of Priest! Dottore x Demon! Darling _:(´ཀ`」 ∠):

Tw:: yandere, violence, death, religious abuse, dubcon, mention of nsfw, MINORS DNI

Note:: fictional depictions of religion

♡ 2.7k words under the cut ♡

♡ Despite your status as a wandering demon, you have no place in human cognizance. Rather, you conceal yourself from mortal eyes in favor of close observations and whispered temptations. Humans, from your perspective, are interesting creatures—they are ambitious, easily influenced by spiritual beings, capable of both good and evil.

♡ And what better example than the one who summoned you on a starry night? Such rituals are not uncommon amongst heretics, but most only succeed in invoking the contempt of their fellow humans. And few would invoke your name, much less commit sacrilege within the walls of the Church.

♡ You sense danger immediately upon your appearance. Within the summoning circle, you take note of your sigil perfectly illustrated in blood against marble. Beyond it, what alarms you is not your sacred surroundings nor the fresh corpse mixed with your offerings of books and fruit. It is the figure standing over you, cloaked in moonlight, gazing at you with eyes the color of hellfire.

“My ritual is a success. Welcome to my humble church, o noble demon…or would you rather be addressed by your epithet? ______, Fallen Seraph, the Seeker of Forbidden Knowledge.”

♡ A glimpse into his soul is all it takes to strike fear into your heart. Within Hell, there are rumors of a small village in Sumeru. Its people are nothing of note, a congregation of simpletons whose lives revolve around the beliefs of their Church. The lone exception is the main priest, Father Zandik, better known as Il Dottore.

♡ The stories, passed through human voices, speak of a child ostracized for his unconventional beliefs and his interest in the macabre. Branded a madman, he was placed in the care of the Church elders who corrected his ways of thinking. Once he became of age, Zandik was given the choice to move out of the rectory or to remain as a priest; he chose the latter of his own volition.

♡ Since his ordination, Zandik has proved himself to be an exceptional priest. He educates the masses, reviews theological texts, performs exorcisms, and provides religious counsel for the doubtful. He even serves as the town’s doctor, fully gaining the acceptance of his community.

♡ The rumors don’t stop there. For Il Dottore earned his title by performing miracles. It is he who guides the people into religious ecstasy, he who cures the sick from mysterious curses, he who blesses the weak into “enhanced humans.” There are already whispers that once Dottore’s mortality catches up with him, he will surely be canonized as the Patron Saint of Doctors and Miracles.

♡ But spiritual beings such as yourself know the truth. That Dottore is neither a kind priest nor a devout believer, that his days in the Church only magnified his heretical inclinations. Disillusioned with God, Zandik decided to turn His religious sanctuary into his own laboratory, one where he could fulfill his lust for knowledge through a mask of holiness.

♡ He manipulates the people with false teachings. He triggers religious ecstasy with drugged incense. He singles out devotees to “test their faith” during the quiet hours of the Church. And what the town perceives as curses and miracles are actually scientific experiments in which Dottore plays god.

♡ It’s too late to escape. No matter your divine powers, nothing prepares you for Dottore’s traps. The incantations, the barrier of the summoning circle, an aura so holy yet sinister that it couldn’t possibly come from ordinary religious objects—all you can do is fall to your knees and beg for his mercy, all the while he watches you with a confident smile.

♡ His intentions are like that of any human: He summoned you to form a contract. In exchange for his soul, he demands your knowledge, your resources, your full servitude for so long as he roams the mortal plane. Your hesitation only triggers another wave of scorching pain, followed by panic as Dottore grips your horn and forces you to face him.

“Make no mistake, ______. The mere fact of your divinity does not make you indestructible. In exchange for your cooperation, you will bear witness to experiments of the same magnitude as God’s creations. What say you?”

♡ You have no other choice. And that is how, in the sanctity of the Church, you make a deal with the human named Zandik. Once the pact has been forged, Dottore admires the bright sigil on his chest, plucks a few feathers from your wings, and disables the summoning circle so you can leave. Thus begins your personal hell.

♡ It is easy for you to answer Dottore’s questions about the divine. The horror lies in assisting him in experiments, responding to his summons no matter the inconvenience, allowing him to extract your blood, tears, and feathers. No, what’s most humiliating is when he uses your body for his “research,” bending you over the altar and bringing you to physical ecstasy against your will.

♡ At this point, you don’t know who to pray to. One night, Dottore shows you a secret room in his laboratory. As soon as he lights the lamps, your eyes take in numerous bodies and skeletons of a different classification from his usual victims. The extra bones jutting from the scapulas, the amputated wings, the halos pinned to the walls, the holy aura you’d felt from his religious objects…instantly, Dottore’s powers make sense.

“This is my first specimen. She was my guardian angel…no, I jest. She was a mere messenger who implored me to repent for my sins. From her words, I deduced it had been within Heaven’s capacity to save me during my youth—and yet God only sent an angel to me after my first act of blasphemy.”

The angels…how many has he killed? Not even during your fall from Heaven did you feel such primal fear for your life. But you cannot scream—you have long been trained to resist fight and flight. All you can do is listen to Dottore’s explanation, watch as he approaches a pure white skeleton and wraps his hands around its fractured hyoid bone.

He gives you a calm smile. “Luckily, her body provided me with indispensable resources for my experiments and my procurement of her brethren. I believe her name was Sohreh.”

♡ Just when you think it can’t get any worse, Dottore points at the far corner of the room to reveal a space dedicated to demons. Four dead bodies, their causes of death vividly described. Horns, wings, and other body parts amputated in exchange for lives spared after exorcisms. And when Dottore returns to your side, tracing the wound from where he broke off your horn, you can only tremble and acquiesce to a checkup. It grows back fully by the end of the year.

♡ He has his moments of vulnerability, however. Perhaps it is due to your nature as a demon, a creature which represents evil, that Dottore does not hide his heart from you. Once, after his usual confessions—he always makes up trivial sins—he remains in the confessional until his fellow priest has left. Then he goes to the altar and summons you.

♡ What catches you off-guard is not his lack of greetings. Rather, it’s the way he pulls you close to his body, lips ghosting the curve of your ear. There, in the heart of the Church, he whispers to you every sin he has ever committed. Despite his normal tone of voice, his words have never betrayed a language so guiltless, so sincere, so human.

♡ He asks how much of his madness is to blame on the influence of demons, or if he had been born wicked. He asks if humans were truly given the mental faculties to withstand temptation regardless of their circumstances. He asks if the same can be said for spiritual beings, questioning why former angels like you were also created with the capacity to sin. He even asks if praying for a demon can offer them any hope of salvation.

♡ It takes you a while to answer his questions. It’s just like him to put your emotions in disarray, to make you feel pity for the very cause of your current suffering. Against your nature, you wonder if there is still a chance for Zandik, if he can somehow repent or find a way to save himself from your contract and all of his sins. Even if it is too late, He has always been more forgiving to humans than angels.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨

“Do you know why I became a demon, Zandik?”

Your question is what prompts Zandik to pull away from you, though his touch lingers. His gaze, as always, is unfathomable; you can never discern what hides within those pools of crimson.

“No, I do not. Few demonological texts allude to your existence, and only the Lesser Key of Deshret cites your previous status as an angel of the highest ranking. I have made theories in relation to your epithets but I respect all possibilities. Now what would you, as the primary source, reveal to me?”

Now it is your turn to confess.

“Seraphim are the closest to God but for that reason, we are the most distant from His creations. Everything we know of the world is derived only from what He tells us, not our own insights. And so I defied His Word and ate the forbidden fruit from the Tree of Knowledge, committing the same sin which condemned all of humanity.”

The tip of your upper wing brushes against Zandik’s face, while your middle wings encircle his body in a loose hug. As for your lower wings…they are nothing but twin scars covered in short feathers. After your descent, it seemed like a rational decision to chop them off, broken as they were. It helped that your wings had just outgrown their original purpose.

For once, you barely flinch at the sensation of his touch against your scars. Many times, Zandik has inquired about the loss of your lower wings and even asked if he could have them. They still remain in Hell, tucked away in a corner of your home, eyes forever closed.

It takes a few seconds for him to respond. “Do you ever regret your decision?”

You shrug. “It was difficult at first, naturally. Many of my eyes were blinded—yes, that is why I rarely open the ones on my wings—but those which still function have seen so many wonderful sights up-close. Neither must I cover my face with my remaining wings. And despite being what your kind and my former brethren would dub a monster…I’m happier now.”

“I see, I see.” His curiosity appears far from sated, however, a sentiment you can empathize with. “As I thought, God is incomprehensible. For Him to deny even His greatest creation of salvation…it confirms that there are limits to the forgiveness of that which humans call a ‘loving god.’ Thank you for sharing this knowledge with me.”

And just as quickly as he initiated his confession, Zandik steps out of your grasp and dismisses you. But you make no haste, silently watching him after you “leave.”

His expression is thoughtful. A gloved hand touches his chest, right above your sigil.

Such an interesting creature.

Honestly, you don’t know what to make of your feelings for this human. Much as you despise his cruel treatment towards you, he never fails to capture your interest with his experiments and philosophies. Whenever he speaks of God, you wonder if a small part of him still desires to be saved. But that will never be.

Zandik preaches salvation with the knowledge that he will never receive it. For the Church never taught him how to love.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨

♡ Il Dottore never became the Patron Saint of Doctors and Miracles. Neither did he have a funeral mass befitting of a priest, nor a peaceful death from natural causes. Instead, he died young, laicized, once again denounced as a heretic by his community.

♡ You don’t know how his crimes were exposed, and why now. Perhaps it is God’s punishment for him, a blessing for his victims, or both. Either way, Dottore paid for his sins on a sunny day, burned at the stake before a disdainful crowd. Not long after his heart stopped beating, his belongings were thrown into the fire—research, tools, anything which carried his memory.

♡ You never left his side. After his last rites, led by an elderly bishop who condemned Zandik as he did in the past, you sat next to him and offered a final conversation. He didn’t express any fear nor sadness in regards to his imminent death, merely stating it a pity that his achievements could never be appreciated in his town.

♡ …He did ask if there is any chance of meeting again in Hell, but you reminded him that the punishment of sinners is out of your jurisdiction. Plus, it’s better that way—you have no desire to avenge yourself, and you’d rather not witness Zandik’s suffering for all eternity. You can only imagine the severity of his punishment, what more if he is assigned to one of the demons he exorcized.

♡ During his execution, you stood at the front of the crowd. You kept your eyes trained on him, for so long as his scarlet orbs remained open, whispering the prayers for the dead on his behalf. While a part of you felt liberated, another was mournful. You hope your last words to Zandik gave him solace in his final moments.

“Rest now, Zandik. God may never forgive your sins, but I shall.”

♡ And thus ends the life of Il Dottore. In the following days, the Church is purged of its holy, sinister aura, mainly because they discarded the religious objects tainted with angel remains. You continue your usual obligations as a wandering demon, but the humans you observe pale in comparison to your companion of many years.

♡ Not long after, you return to Hell for your other divine duties. As soon as you appear in your abode, however, something feels off. The sinister aura, the offering of books and fruit, your lower wings gone from their original place… The answer comes in the form of a hand grabbing you by the horn, pulling you backwards, twisting your body to meet a familiar gaze the color of hearth-fire. Only, this time, those eyes are brimming with pure joy, paired with a genuine smile.

♡ Apparently, Dottore’s soul did end up in Hell but not in the way you expected. In a proud voice, he explains that the Devil gave him a special fate. Whether it was due to vacant positions or everyone’s fear of the infamous “Demon-Killer,” you’ll never know. What Dottore does confirm is that as the demon bound to him via contract, you have to take responsibility and act as his companion in Hell.

“Rather than subject me to eternal suffering, the Devil believed that my talents would prove useful for the punishments of my fellow sinners. How wonderful is it for my achievements to be recognized in Hell? …Oh? I didn’t predict such a physical reaction from you. All of your eyes are wide open, and you seem to be on the verge of fainting.”

♡ You don’t know if you want to laugh or cry. To think your personal hell has been extended to eternity—are your sins enough to warrant such a fate?! But after confirming your misfortune, all you can do is sigh and tend to Zandik. He looks exactly the same, with the exception of a few burn scars on his body. And judging by the familiar black feathers on his person, he seems eager to discard his former religious attire along with his mask of faith.

♡ And when Zandik unfastens his scorched cassock, he takes your hand and places it on his unburned chest, right above your sigil. It glows vibrantly, brighter than any light you laid eyes on in Heaven. And beneath the flesh, you can feel his heart beating in sync with yours.

“Tell me, ______, do I still appear human to you?”

“You already know my answer to that question. But fine, I’ll admit it: Yes, you always have.”

♡

More Church AU here!! Capitano ๑ Arlecchino ๑ Pantalone ๑ Pierro ๑ Dainsleif

Note:: Please do not send me any Church AU asks/ requests involving other characters or dynamics who are not listed in my masterlist.

At long last, I am free from Priesttore…thank you to everyone. To my readers, to my fellow Dottore simps, to my mutuals who indulged my tortured DMs after midnight, to the artist whose fan art inspired this idea to begin with. May you all have a lovely day╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

Tag a Dottore enjoyer!! @leftdestiny-posts @beloved-blaiddyd @mochinon-yah @diodellet @lcveaesop @oofasleep @bye-bye-sunbird @yandere-romanticaa @boundinparchment @harmonysanreads @teabutmakeitazure @yandere-wishes @yanmaresu @nicebonescomrades @nimandu @lesanyanyas @moarar

#il dottore #dottore #dottore x reader #yandere dottore x reader #yandere dottore #yandere fatui harbingers #fatui x reader #genshin x reader #yandere genshin #tw: yandere #tw: dark #tw: blood #tw: death #tw: violence #tw: dubcon #spicy warning #mdni #g/n reader #jessamine-writing

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shouyuus · 7 days ago

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warm up game yippie! i adore ur works btw

touya at 11:40 pm, heh, i'm excited to see ur take on this:3333

writing/warmup game closed!

touya; 11:40pm --

it has always been hard for him, the winter, when the cold digs so deep into his bones it starts to feel like fire, but even then, he refuses to light so much as a single match.

"you're gonna freeze to death," you say, tutting as you tug a furry blanket over his shoulders. touya grunts, shifting his shoulders to let you fasten the large clip under his chin.

"nah. can't."

you roll your eyes, settling down next to him on the tiny balcony, glancing up at the softly falling snowflakes, caught in moonlight as dust motes in the afternoon sun.

"pft, you're doing a bang up job of trying to prove yourself wrong, then," you say, nudging him slightly as you settle in. touya shifts, accommodating the shape of you next to him easily as wind might a flickering flame. you sigh, reaching out to dust at the lace of snowflakes gathered in his hair, a winter's crown for a hellfire prince.

once, you'd wondered at the color of his hair -- thought that perhaps he'd taken after his mother some after all. but then you remembered that the hottest fires always burn white and suddenly, it all seemed to make so much more sense.

touya shivers and you shuffle closer to him with a soft sigh, your breath fogging up the air before you, a hazy, mist-laden reminder of your irredeemable lives. you'd chosen this path, and in a way, so had he but, sometimes, when the nights get dark and the nightmares come, you wonder if there really is such thing as choice. if life isn't just one series of tragedies chain-linked to another, then another.

"when i was little... i used to always sneak out to watch the first snow, just like this," touya says, his eyes cast up at the crescent moon, a scimitar blade slicing across a snowfall sky. "and shouto would always make me bring him along too. he... was still too young to have any control over his quirk so... i'd light a fire to keep us both warm."

he opens the palm of his hand, and you glance down at the star-burst shaped scar you'd come to know so well.

"even though it hurt you too," you say, reaching out to trace the puckered skin. he chuckles, a soft, mirthless sound.

"when i woke up in the forest..." he continues, his voice dropping so low you almost have to strain to hear him, the snow dampening all sound till the world feels eerily quiet and still, "i knew that no one was coming to get me..."

you reach out to lace your fingers with his, giving his hand a tiny squeeze. you pillow your cheek on his shoulder and shift the blanket tighter around the both of you. he lets your hands fall into his lap, pulling his feet up higher into his chest, his toes curling, his skin pinked with cold.

"you were just a kid," you murmur. touya snorts, nodding as he looks up at the slow-shifting cascades of clouds.

"yeah, sure -- guess i was. but i wasn't the same kid from before. and i promised myself then... that i'd never, ever again set myself on fire to keep someone else warm." he lets out a long-suffering sigh, dropping his head to stare at your hands, still loosely laced in his lap.

"if someone wanted the fire... then they'd just have to burn right along with me."

you lean up to press your slightly chapped lips to his cheek.

"then..." you trail your mouth along the rough skin just beneath his earlobe, grin as you feel his breath hitch ever so slightly, "let's burn."

#⛈ monsoon season #todoroki touya #todoroki touya x reader #dabi x reader #x reader #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #bnha x reader #mha x reader #mha dabi #mha touya #todoroki touya x you #mha x you #bnha x you #anime boys galore #this one's a tiny bit angsty but YEAP #also i have such a THING for white haired!touya okay like PELASE

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anakinstwinklebunny · 10 months ago

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PETER PAN!ANAKIN HEADCANONS

Author's note: here both of them, anakin and reader, aren't children. Here they're both around 17-18

TW: no smut!

Author's note: a lot of blogs that crossed through my dms had lately decided to deactivate. I fully support them however can't stop this melancholic feeling creeping up my spine. So, my crazy week with posting my work is dedicated to them. @katiapostsss-deactivated2024081 @yrsjune and so on.

divider - @hellfire--cult

You always believed in fairy tales. Every night, you'd curl up under your blankets, eagerly turning the pages of your favorite stories, letting the words transport you to distant lands where anything was possible. But as much as you loved reading about those grand adventures, a quiet longing had taken root in your heart—a yearning to experience the magic firsthand. To leave behind the ordinary world and step into a place where dreams became reality and happiness was more than just a fleeting moment.

One night, after finishing another tale of Neverland, you couldn't ignore the pull any longer. The idea had been growing in your mind for days, and now, it was impossible to resist. You hurried to your desk, your heart racing with the kind of excitement you only felt when you were on the brink of something extraordinary. Grabbing a piece of paper, you scrawled a note in your neatest handwriting:

Dear Peter Pan,

I've left my window open.

Please come rescue me.

You stuck the note to your window, the cool night air drifting in through the gap you'd left. With a final glance at the stars outside, you crawled back into bed, pulling the duvet up to your chin. As you lay there, the house quiet around you, you could feel your pulse quicken with anticipation. Every creak of the floorboards, every rustle of the leaves outside had you holding your breath, hoping that this time, it wasn’t just the wind. Would he really come? Could he be real, like the stories said?

You squeezed your eyes shut, not wanting to miss even the faintest sound that might signal his arrival. And as the night stretched on, you waited—(im)patiently, your heart filled with a mixture of hope and a whisper of doubt. Somewhere deep inside, you knew that if anyone could take you away to where dreams were born, it was him—your favorite hero from all the stories you loved.

Peter Pan!Anakin who actually made your dream come true;

Anakin, dressed in his usual green tunic with a mischievous smirk playing on his lips, slipped through the open window with the grace of someone who had done it a hundred times before. His eyes adjusted to the dimly lit room, and he took in the surroundings—a cozy space filled with books, twinkling fairy lights, and little trinkets that spoke of a dreamer. A map of Neverland was tacked to the wall, and in the corner sat a small chest overflowing with the kinds of treasures a girl might hoard: seashells, old coins, and feathers.

But then, his gaze landed on you, curled up in bed, your face peaceful in sleep. For a moment, he simply stood there, captivated. You looked like a storybook character yourself, with the moonlight casting a soft glow on your features. He couldn’t help but wonder what kind of adventures you dreamed about, or what made you leave that note for him.

Before he could get lost in his thoughts, a sharp tug on his tunic yanked him back to reality. Tinker Bell, her tiny face twisted in annoyance, was buzzing around him like a bright, golden light.

“Hey!” she whispered harshly, her little hands pulling at his shirt. “We’re here for your shadow, remember? Not some girl.”

“Come on, Tink. Look at her. Isn’t she just… enchanting?” He took a step closer to your bed, but Tinker Bell darted in front of him, her tiny arms crossed over her chest.

“She’s nothing special,” Tink huffed, her wings fluttering rapidly. “Let’s just get what we came for and leave.”

Anakin rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at his lips. “You’re just saying that because you’re jealous.”

Tinker Bell’s cheeks flushed an even brighter shade of pink. “I am not!”

Their bickering grew a little louder, and in the midst of it, you stirred. The soft murmur of voices slowly pulled you from sleep, your eyes fluttering open. At first, you thought you were still dreaming—because what you saw couldn’t possibly be real.

A boy, no older than you, stood near your bed, dressed in strange clothes, with tousled hair that looked like it had been styled by the wind itself. Floating beside him was a tiny, glowing figure, radiating light like a star. It took you a moment to realize what you were seeing, and when you did, your heart skipped a beat.

“Peter Pan?” you whispered, your voice tinged with awe and disbelief.

Anakin turned his attention to you, slowly taking in your beautiful eyes. For a moment he just stood there, not saying anything but taking in everything there was about you. He felt this weird feeling of butterflies in his stomach before he composed himself and a charming grin spreading across his face. “The one and only. And you must be the one who left that note.”

You sat up slowly, still trying to wrap your head around the fact that Peter Pan was standing in your room, looking even more handsome than you had imagined. “I… I didn’t think you’d actually come.”

He stepped closer, all traces of the earlier argument with Tinker Bell gone from his face. His blue eyes sparkled with mischief as he said, “Well, you called..and how could I resist an invitation like that?”

Tinker Bell, still hovering nearby, let out an exaggerated sigh but didn’t interrupt again. She could see the way you and Anakin were looking at each other, and she hated it

Peter Pan!Anakin who took you to Neverland and soon later introduced you to all the boys. Although you couldn't shake the tinkler bell's displeasure with your presence. Once you talked about this with anakin, he promised to do something (yet she hadn't really accepted you)

Peter Pan!Anakin who made sure any boy did not flirt with you. Especially Rufio

Peter Pan!Anakin who loves to show off his flying skills;

"But—what if I fall?" Your voice trembled slightly as you looked down at the glistening, see-through blue water below. The height sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn't help but gulp nervously.

Anakin chuckled softly, his eyes dancing with excitement. Hovering effortlessly in the air above the shimmering water, he looked down at you with a cheeky, reassuring grin.

"Oh, darling," he said with a teasing lilt, extending his hand towards you. "But what if you fly?"

"I—" You hesitated, your gaze flickering once more to the soft waves crashing against the cliff. The fear of falling tugged at your heart, making your pulse quicken.

Anakin sensed your hesitation, the flicker of worry in your eyes. His grin softened, turning into a look of pure encouragement. He continued to float with ease, his hand still reaching out to you, his confidence unwavering.

"Come on, love," he coaxed gently, his voice brimming with warmth and certainty. "Take my hand. I won’t let you fall, I promise. Just think of something that makes you happy."

"Happy thought?" You echoed, your voice small, but curious.

"Right, a happy thought." He paused, his gaze deepening as he searched your face. "Close your eyes, take a deep breath, and imagine something that fills your heart with joy. It could be the warmth of the sun, the sound of laughter, or a memory that makes you smile. Hold onto that feeling... and trust me."

You closed your eyes, letting his words wash over you. Slowly, you reached out and placed your hand in his. The warmth of his touch sent a spark of reassurance through you, and you felt yourself being gently lifted from the ground.

As your feet left the soft grass, you felt a moment of panic, but it quickly subsided as Anakin's grip remained firm yet tender. He guided you into the air, and before you knew it, you were floating beside him, the shimmering water below now seeming more like a distant dream than a threat. The cool breeze kissed your skin, and you marveled at the sensation of weightlessness.

"Open your eyes," he whispered, his voice soft and filled with wonder.

You obeyed, your eyes fluttering open to take in the breathtaking view. The height was dizzying, and for a moment, your heart skipped a beat.

"Oh my—" You gasped, your body instinctively tensing as you realized just how high you were.

Anakin chuckled again, this time more softly, as he wrapped his arm around your waist, anchoring you to him. His presence was grounding, a steadying force in the midst of this surreal experience.

"It’s alright," he soothed, his voice a comforting murmur in your ear. "I’ve got you. Just hold onto that happy thought, yeah?"

You nodded, your lips forming a thin line as you forced yourself to focus on the happiness that had brought you here, rather than the fear. When you looked up at him, his handsome face was glowing with pride and affection.

Anakin smiled at your nod, understanding the depth of trust you had placed in him. He moved closer, his body brushing lightly against yours, a silent reassurance that you were safe with him. The breeze played with your hair as the two of you floated together, suspended in a moment that felt like pure magic.

"See, love?" he murmured, his gaze never wavering from yours. "You’re flying. Just like I promised."

Peter Pan!Anakin who quickly developed feelings towards you

Peter Pan!Anakin who, despite his playful nature, is fiercely protective of you. He won’t hesitate to confront any danger in the forest, whether it’s a mischievous pixie or a dark force threatening your safety.

Peter Pan!Anakin who you made nervous (which was uncommon for someone like him)

Peter Pan!Anakin who you quickly started to call by small nicknames that he loved (always manage to make his cheeks flush)

Peter Pan!Anakin who gave you a bouquet of glowing flowers;

As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in rich shades of pink and orange, Anakin found himself deep in thought. Over the past few days, his mind had been occupied with one thing—you. His feelings for you had grown stronger, more intense, and it was getting harder to keep them hidden.

In the quiet of the evening, Anakin busied himself gathering a bouquet of glowing flowers. Their luminescent petals bathed his surroundings in a soft, ethereal light, casting shadows that danced around him as he worked. He wanted to create something beautiful, something that might convey the emotions he couldn’t quite put into words.

"Ani? What are you doing?" Your voice, sweet and soft, broke through his reverie.

Startled, Anakin jumped slightly. He had been so engrossed in his task that he hadn’t even noticed you approaching. His heart raced, a mix of surprise and embarrassment flooding through him. Instinctively, he tried to hide the bouquet behind his back, though it was already too late.

"Nothing! I’m just… uhm…" He stammered, fumbling for words as a faint blush crept across his cheeks. Realizing that he couldn’t hide the flowers or his intentions any longer, he sighed softly and brought the bouquet forward, revealing it with a sheepish smile.

"I… I made these for you…" His voice was tinged with nervousness, his gaze flickering between the bouquet and your eyes.

"For me?" You asked, a mix of surprise and warmth in your voice.

Anakin’s blush deepened, and he nodded, his usual confidence faltering as he anxiously awaited your reaction.

"Yeah, for you. I remembered how much you liked the glowing flowers on our last walk… so I thought I’d gather some for you. I wanted to… brighten your night."

"I--well--thank you," you replied, a genuine smile spreading across your face.

Relief washed over Anakin at your response, and he couldn’t help but return your smile. He shuffled slightly, rubbing the back of his neck—a habit of his when he felt nervous or unsure.

"I’m glad you like them. I tried to pick the prettiest ones I could find."

Your smile widened as you stepped closer and you decided to do something new, something you've dreamed about doing for a long time. Standing on your toes, you pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek

"They're perfect" you whispered, your voice filled with sincerity.

Anakin’s heart swelled at your words, his smile growing as he held the bouquet out to you, the glowing flowers reflecting in his eyes.

"I’m glad you think so. I wanted to do something special for you… because you’re special to me."

His words were soft, almost shy, as he took a step closer. The glow from the flowers illuminated his face, highlighting the earnest expression in his eyes. The world around you seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you standing in the gentle light of the flowers.

Anakin’s heart pounded in his chest as he leaned in, closing the distance between you. The soft light cast by the flowers created a halo around you both, making the moment feel even more magical. As his lips met yours, the world fell silent. The only thing that mattered was the tender connection you shared, the warmth of his embrace, and the gentle rhythm of your heartbeats, perfectly in sync.

Lost in the kiss, Anakin felt a sense of completeness he had never known before. He didn’t notice Tinker Bell’s jealous stomping in the distance, too absorbed in the feel of your lips, the softness of your skin, and the way you fit perfectly in his arms. He pulled you closer, deepening the kiss, wanting to savor every second of this precious moment.

Peterpan!Anakin who often sang soft lullabies to you when you’re falling asleep, his voice soothing and full of love. And he always promised that he’ll always be there to protect you, no matter what.

Peter Pan!Anakin who, despite the thrill of adventure, has his tender moments. He loves to cuddle with you in a cozy treehouse, wrapped up in a blanket while he whispers stories of his past and dreams of the future.

Peter Pan!Anakin who is a dreamer, constantly imagining new adventures, and he's always trying to impress you with his latest idea. Whether it's finding a new hideout, building something impressive, or planning a daring raid on the pirates, he loves when you join him in these endeavors. Your support means everything to him, and he often seeks your approval without even realizing it.

Peter Pan!Anakin who makes sure to keep you safe from the mermaids, or the treacherous jungles. He'd probably do anything to ensure you're happy and safe, even if it means putting himself in harm's way.

Peter Pan!Anakin who has a special place in Neverland that he never showed anyone else until he met you. It's a secluded spot, perhaps a hidden waterfall or a secret treehouse, where he goes to think and be alone. When he finally takes you there, it's a significant moment, symbolizing how much you mean to him and how much he trusts you.

Peter Pan!Anakin who loves using the magic of Neverland to play tricks and have fun. He might use fairy dust to create harmless pranks, like making your hair float or turning your shadow into a playful doppelgänger

Peter Pan!Anakin who uses you as a comforting presence when he doubts himself.

Peter Pan!Anakin who makes a promise to you, something sacred in the context of Neverland. It could be a vow to always find his way back to you, no matter where you are, or to show you a new star every night.

Peter Pan!Anakin who was first to snuggle up to you when the time came for you to tell a goodnight story to the lost boys

Peter Pan!Anakin who had to save you from captain hook

Peter Pan!Anakin who took you to different places to spend more time with you;

Hand in hand, Anakin gently guided you through the lush, enchanting greenery of Neverland until you reached a serene spot that overlooked a breathtaking view of the setting sun. The sky was a canvas of warm hues—orange, pink, and gold—casting a soft glow over the landscape. A cool breeze brushed against your skin as you stood together, taking in the beauty around you.

He led you to a large, flat rock, the perfect place to sit and watch the world slow down. You both settled down side by side, the sun sinking ever so slowly toward the horizon.

"Now you're just neglecting the Lost Boys,"* you teased, a playful giggle escaping your lips.

Anakin chuckled in response, the sound warm and familiar. A smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he glanced at you, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

"Ah, but they’re used to it," he quipped, turning his gaze back to the vibrant sunset, the colors reflecting in his eyes. "They’re resourceful boys; they’ll manage just fine."

"Besides," he continued with a grin "I’m indulging in my favorite princess right now. The Lost Boys can wait their turn."

As Anakin admired the sunset, lost in the moment, you found yourself unable to take your eyes off him. His strong profile was softened by the fading light, and something about this moment made you want to express what was on your mind.

"You're different from how books describe you..." you mused softly, a small smile tugging at your lips, even though you knew the concept of books was foreign to him.

Anakin chuckled again, the sound low and rich as he continued to gaze at the setting sun. He could feel your eyes on him, and there was a curious edge to his voice when he finally responded.

Turning to meet your gaze, he arched an eyebrow in a blend of playfulness and curiosity "What’s...book?"

You shook your head, a slight smile still on your lips. "Nothing. Don’t mind it," you replied, brushing off the question, knowing it would lead to more complexities than you were ready to explain.

Anakin studied you for a moment, sensing that there was more behind your words. But instead of pushing further, he turned his attention back to the sunset. A brief silence hung between you, filled only by the rustling of leaves and the distant calls of Neverland’s creatures. Then, with a playful smirk, he turned back to you.

"You’re quite the mystery, you know that?" his voice carrying a hint of admiration mixed with a teasing edge, his eyes still reflecting the vibrant colors of the sunset.

Peter Pan!Anakin who's mood each time fell whenever you mentioned going back to your world

Peter Pan!Anakin who deeply conflicted about the idea of growing up, especially when it comes to your relationship. He fears that you’ll eventually want to leave and grow old, while he stays the same

Peter Pan!Anakin who eventually had to accept your decision;

Anakin listened intently as you spoke, his expression growing somber. He knew this conversation was inevitable, but he had been dreading it, avoiding the harsh reality of losing you.

"I know...I know." His voice was thick with emotion, and he paused, swallowing hard against the lump in his throat "But what about Neverland? What about... us?"

When you suggested he come with you, a flicker of hope and doubt crossed his eyes. Yet, the idea of leaving Neverland, the only place he had ever called home, was almost unthinkable.

"You know I can't. This is my home. Neverland is all I know," he murmured, the corners of his mouth turning downward as he grappled with the decision before him.

You stepped closer, your eyes filled with a mixture of desperation and love.

"Please, Ani. I want you with me. I don’t want to leave you behind."

He sighed, his heart caught in a tug-of-war between his love for you and his love for Neverland. The weight of the decision bore down on him, and he couldn’t shake the feeling of being trapped between two worlds.

But then, his eyes darkened, his expression growing more serious

"And grow up? Turn into an adult? Live a mundane life with mundane jobs and worries?" He shook his head, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. The thought of abandoning the magic and freedom of Neverland for a life of routines and responsibilities made his stomach churn.

"It’s going to be okay...it’s not so bad—" You tried to reassure him, but your voice wavered, betraying your uncertainty. However you started to feel the watery liquid raise in your eyes but you managed to blink them off before they could escape their place

Anakin raised an eyebrow, skepticism etched across his face.

"Not so bad? It’s going to be a life of routine and expectations. We’ll be losing all of this—the magic, the adventures, the freedom…" His voice softened, laden with the weight of what he was about to say. "I don’t want to lose you either, but I don’t know if it’s worth the cost."

"What? I—anakin—" Tears welled up in your eyes as you struggled to make him understand. "I can’t just leave my family like that..."

"And I can’t just leave Neverland. Everything I’ve ever known, everything I’ve ever loved...this is my home." His voice wavered as his own eyes began to mist over. "I...I don’t want to lose you, but I can’t uproot everything I know to follow you."

A heavy silence hung between you, the weight of the situation pressing down on both of you.

"So...this is how it ends?" You whispered softly, your voice trembling with emotion. You could fight, make him understand that being an adult isn't so bad like he thinks it is. Yes, there are responsibilities but still, it's not so bad. Yet, you found yourself submitting to his decision, to his slight stubbornness. And in that moment, you started to let go.

Anakin's heart felt like it was being torn in two. The pain in your voice mirrored the pain in his own heart.

"I guess so...I suppose this is where we say goodbye." He tried to keep his voice steady, but the sadness seeped through, making his words sound hollow. He stared at you, memorizing every detail of your face, knowing this might be the last time he’d see you.

With a deep breath, he leaned in, his lips meeting yours in a kiss filled with sadness and longing. The knowledge that this might be the last time they would ever kiss made him cling to the moment, trying to make it last just a little longer. When the kiss finally ended, he took a shaky breath, his voice barely a whisper.

"But goodbyes aren’t forever, you know? We’ll meet again...someday, lost girl"

A small, pained smile tugged at the corners of his lips as you let out a dry chuckle, your attempt to mask the pain. He reached out, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering on your skin for a moment longer than necessary.

"You take care of yourself out there, okay?" His voice was tender, laced with a love that couldn’t be easily expressed in words.

You nodded, tears brimming in your eyes, and leaned in to press a small kiss to his swollen lips, sealing your bittersweet goodbye.

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