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#do not mind me i am having feelings again and always
miley1442111 · 3 days
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i wanna kiss you on the mouth -s.reid
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a/n: i am back from the dead! hello, i was gone for the past few days because school and work is hectic but rest assured i am back :)
summary: both of you are completely unaware of your feelings, but you speak too loudly and your feelings are confessed.
pairing: spencer reid x bau! fem! reader
warnings: none
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Spencer had only been thinking of you every day for the past 4 months. From the moment he woke up, to the second his head hit the pillow. You were on his mind. 
It’s weird he tried to convince himself. You were his childhood best friend, who’d just moved to Washington. You were a year older but just as intelligent, if not more, and you were conversational and interesting. You had people skills that he could only dream of, and a smile he could only dream of. Which he did. Dreamt of you a lot. Usually you were his girlfriend, or occasionally his wife. Sometimes you were clothed... others he wasn't exactly proud of. But it wasn't him technically, it was his subconscious. Right?
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“We have a new case,” Penelope grimaced as you rolled your eyes, clearly hungover from the night prior. 
“Bad date?” Derek mused and Spencer’s muscles tensed. 
“I don’t even remember Derek, all I know is that I woke up in someone else’s bed,” you chuckled. 
“Cheating on me?” He mocked. 
“Always,” you smirked, lowering the sunglasses on your eyes to give him a wink, one which made him laugh. 
Spencer’s chest tightened. You were going out. You had casual sex. That was fine, you’re an adult. He shouldn’t be bothered. You two hadn’t spoken in years before you joined the BAU 4 months ago. 
“Pretty boy?” Derek repeated. “Are you alright? You’re not listening.”
“S-sorry! Just… thinking…” he trailed off as the conversation flowed again, ideas and questions filled the room as they continued the briefing. 
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The jet was not much easier. You were smirking at your phone as the others napped or looked over the case file. 
“Who’s that?” Emily smirked, looking over your shoulder. 
“My maybe-boyfriend,” you smiled back as her face lit up. Spencer’s heart dropped. You barely look in his direction most days. You don’t talk to him. You clearly don’t care about him. Yet here he is, upset over the fact that you might have a boyfriend. “Kidding, my apartment complex’s group chat is going off right now because someone is playing music really loudly. My neighbour is threatening to kill the old woman in 35 with a kitchen knife,” you chuckled as Emily deflated, but read the messages aloud, which made the entire jet laugh. Spencer smiled along, an ease in the weight on his chest. 
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You were exhausted. You hated this. You hated being so close to Spencer and not feeling able to talk to him. You hated how much you wanted him, needed him. You hated how little attention he paid to you. You didn't like going on first dates, much less sleeping with the asshole that was 'Josh' but he had a similar vibe to Spencer and you'd needed a release.
“Fuck,” you yawned, allowing your eyes to drop for a few seconds before Derek hit the back of your head to wake up. You groaned in response as he laughed. “Fuck you.”
“Come do it yourself,” he smirked and you rolled your eyes. “Anyways, how is it going?”
“I’ve narrowed down the geological profile from Spencer’s initial one-”
“I mean ‘Project Reid’!” He gossiped. “Have you even talked to him yet?”
“Derek,” you grumbled, resting your head against your hands. “He doesn’t want to talk to me, he doesn’t even fucking like me!” 
Derek internally rolled his eyes, irritation bubbling at the both of you. How could two of the most gifted profilers he knew not realise the goo-goo eyes they were sending each other while the other wasn’t looking?
“He likes you plenty,” he sighed. “Ask him out! Talk to him.”
“He does not like me!” You squealed. “Spencer Walter Reid does not like me, in a friendly way or a I-want-to-kiss-you-on-the-mouth way! Stop pushing something that will not happen, despite how much I want it to!”
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As Spencer approached the conference room, his weary eyes tired as they focused on your figure. You looked beautiful. Spencer always thought you looked beautiful.
“He does not like me!” You squealed. “Spencer Walter Reid does not like me, in a friendly way or a I-want-to-kiss-you-on-the-mouth way! Stop pushing something that will not happen, despite how much I want it to!”
What.
You liked Spencer? You wanted to kiss Spencer. You just amditted to liking him.
“What?” Spencer’s voice from behind you startled you as Derek laughed. “Y-you want that?”
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“What?” Spencer’s voice from behind you startled you as Derek laughed. “Y-you want that?”
You stared in Derek’s direction, willing for him to leave. Thankfully, he got the message immediately and left swiftly. Leaving you and Spencer alone together. Maybe he should’ve stayed. 
“Umm… yeah. I’ve like you since we were kids, but y’know… life got in the way-”
You were shocked. Spencer Reid, shy Spencer Walter Reid had just cut off your sentence with a kiss. 
What was going on? 
His lips were soft (he used lip balm often, clearly), his hands rested tentatively on you waist. But the kiss. If you could describe kissing Spencer Reid in one word, it would be hungry. He kissed you with as much passion as you would assume someone to give to their partner on their wedding day. He was blanking your mind with this insanely mind-blowing kiss.
“I really like you too,” he smiled. “I an I-wanna-kiss-you-on-the-mouth kinda way. Like I really want to do that again,” he smiled again and you couldn’t help but kiss him. His hands landed on your waist, more comfortable than before as your arms circled his neck. 
Maybe all his overthinking about you was too much. Maybe it was just that simple. 
You liked each other.
In an I-wanna-kiss-you-on-the-mouth kinda way. 
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criminal minds masterlist :)
navigation for my blog :) (CRIMINAL MINDS, marvel, top gun, the bear, the hunger games, challengers, obx+)
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echoofadream · 2 days
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Your favorite patient...
Part 1
Summary: You are a hardworking doctor and you save a man's life. Wait, why is he coming back with all sorts of conditions? What do you mean he followed you home? He's begging to be your...what?
Contains: Obsessive behavior(yandere), stalking, mentions of masturbation, slight smut, dom!reader(gender is not specified), sub!male!yandere.
Imagine you work in a hospital. You're a workaholic doctor who simply loves treating people and helping them get healthier and better. You greet everyone with a smile and try to cheer up every person who comes in, despite their state. 
One day a young man is brought into the ER and you find out he had been in a horrible car accident. You don't waste any more time and treat his wounds and the next day he's already conscious and aware of everything happening around him. Yours is the first face he sees once awake.
The following days you visit him in his hospital room and ask him how he's feeling, the same honest and benevolent smile on your face. You can tell that he's exaggerating most of the time and that the pain he tells you he's experiencing is not as severe as he claims. So you do the only rational thing and discharge him.
Next week, he's back with another issue and he requests you specifically. An ear infection. It wasn't your area of expertise but you took a look and recommended him a qualified doctor. He left displeased.
One week later you saw him again. A stomach ache. It wasn't bad but he wouldn't have it. "You don't get it, doctor! It hurts!" he'd say and grab your wrist, putting it on his lower stomach. He wanted a set of tests. He was even willing to pay any sum of money! You actually ran the tests and he spent one night in the hospital. You should've paid more attention to the smile he had on his face when you came with his results. He wasn't pleased seeing a green line next to every word on the file, yet he understood the situation and left. "Thank you so much, doctor!" he said with a huge smile on his face. "I was so scared! What would I do without you?"
The following week he was in the ER again. Ibuprofen overdose. "I had a headache and didn't know what to do! Help me, doctor!" A part of you was starting to see a pattern, yet your overworked mind couldn't quite put the finger on the issue at hand. You treated him like any other patient. The same friendly smile on your face, the same soft tone of voice, the same tired eyes. You were busy saving lives everyday. This was your duty and you had to do it right. "Such a big heart you have, doctor!" the same adoration in his eyes when he says this as always. "You're amazing!" and you could've sworn you saw tiny hearts forming inside his dark pupils. You should drink less caffeine, really.
After a couple of days the man doesn't come into the ER. Yet you don't even notice his absence. You were so overworked, so tired! Poor you!
One random Thursday(a thoroughly planned day) you freeze when you step into your living room. A familiar person was sitting on your couch. You knew him from somewhere, but why was it so hard for you to remember?
"Hello, doctor!" he greets. The same smile, the same excited voice. And you recognized him. "Don't tell me you don't know who I am..." he started, a bit of disappointment making its way into his facial expression.
You were standing there, unable to move. What was your patient doing inside your house? How did he know where you lived? How did he get inside? Why did he get inside? Was he dange-
"You don't look too pleased to see me, doctor..." he says, a small frown on his face. He approaches you and you instinctively take a step back. "Don't be afraid. I'd never hurt you." his words were either as honest as they could be or he was one hell of a liar. The former sounded better. "You're good and kind and gentle. I'd never hurt you" he chuckled. That makes you make another step back.
"What are you doing here?" you ask, breathlessly.
"I'm here for you, isn't that obvious?"
It was very obvious but you were hoping he'd elaborate.
"You work so hard, doctor" he starts talking in a pitiful, saddened voice. "You work overtime almost everyday. You always come back home late. You don't even have time to cook and you always order takeaway. Then you sit in front of the TV with a glass of wine in your hand, drifting off with god knows what series in the background." He chuckles. "Well, I know actually.".
He takes another step towards you and you flinch. "I wanna make you feel good, doctor" he tells you, almost whimpering. "You work so hard...it's a pity you don't have a slave at home to take care of each and every one of your needs"
Did he just say slave?
"I've been following you ever since you saved my life, doctor. I owe you!". He puts a hand over his heart, trying to show you just how much he loves you. "I know everything you do. I know you barely have a social life, or a sleep schedule or time for yourself except for the moments when you lay on your back on the bed, your glass on the bedside table and you...touch yourself." He blushed at his own words. Meanwhile, you were going through the five stages of fear. If they didn't exist until now, well now they did.
"You don't have any time to clean this place either. I know, since I try not to cough when I lay under your bed and listen to your moans every night." A huge smile spreads across his face. "God, you're amazing..." .
Your hand goes to the pocket of your coat and, as soon as he sees you, his face darkens.
"Doctor...I told you I'm not here to hurt you" His tone held some sort of threat and that made you the more afraid. Your fingers wrap around your phone and you pull it out. He grabs your wrist, stopping you. "You're not gonna do that!" he screams. "You're gonna make me yours! You're gonna do it!".
The sound of your palm making contact with his cheek echoed in the room. He bends forward a little, covering his red cheek and whining softly. He looks at you with fear in his eyes, but you needed to be blind not to see the arousal that fear created. He drops to his knees, hands on his thighs, head lowered.
"I'm sorry, doctor!" he whines. "I shouldn't have yelled at you! Please forgive me! Please! Forgive me for being such a bad boy..." .
You look at him with a shocked expression. It was crystal clear that he was living inside his own world of make-believe in which you were the master and he was the slave. It was obvious he'd wanted it ever since he first saw you. And that he wouldn't take 'no' for an answer.
You smirk, all the previously felt fear having already vanished. After all, everything he said was right. You were exhausted and you needed someone to serve you. You deserved it, didn't you? Weren't you that god sent person who saved this poor boy's life? Why not give him what he wants? Why not...give yourself what you want?
"You followed me home" you start, your tone as assertive as you could make it. You could see his body shiver and that only made you keep going. "You broke into my house multiple times. You stalked me!"
A soft whimper escapes the man in front of you. He tries to lift his head, to look at you with those big pleading puppy eyes of his, to show you how very sorry he felt(not in the slightest) for doing all that. But when you snap at him he lowers his head again.
"You gave yourself medical conditions so that I could treat you! What kind of sick fuck does that?"
He moaned when he heard your degrading words, lifting his head and looking you straight in the eyes, a big smile on his face.
"I'm sick, doctor. I'm very sick..."
You laughed at his wordplay. "I think you've been a bad boy. A bad sick naughty boy. You know what bad boys get?" You smirk, waiting for his answer.
"Punishment!" he yells, his eagerness immeasurable. "They get punishment. Please, doctor..."
"Please, what?"
"Please....punish me"
Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it!
If this goes well I'll write the second part(smut ofc).
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ficmotel · 15 hours
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LIVES CHANGED
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Part II: Things do Change
8.9k words
Warnings: Angst, Eddie being dumb, past Eddie x reader, mom!reader x dad! eddie munson
AN: I am so sorry for the wait, I had this whole plan to release this fic along with a reader only fic of her life after Eddie left but I made the stupid decision to apply for summer college courses thinking it would be easy LOL IM DUMB. Though the first week of classes passed and I have got it under control now. Though classes might slow down this series so bear with me, but I have planned about 5-6 parts for the series so stay tuned.
I hope you enjoy this series, and this part.
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Eddie breathed a deep sigh as he rolled over, trying to catch his breath, sweat beading down his head. He stared at the ceiling, feeling sticky and dirty. He turned, reaching for the side table grabbing his lighter and a pack of cigarettes, placing one between his lips and lighting it. Blonde hair appeared over him, a manicured hand settling over his chest.
“Down for another round?” the sultry voice said, leaning over Eddie, resting her body against his chest. Taking the cigarette from between his lips and taking a hit for herself.
He stared at her for a second, “Can’t, Honey. Gotta meet the boys”
She pouted and leaned over to kiss him, before handing him back the cigarette before hoping off him going to collect her clothes. Eddie got up, putting out the cigarette and picking up his clothes, already planning a hot shower for when he arrived home.
“Well I had fun. We should do this again sometime” She asked from her place behind him, Eddie’s back was turned to her, slipping on his jeans.
“Maybe… I-I don’t know” Eddie mumbled, it was low but it was enough for her to hear him. She laughed but it wasn’t bitter but as if she expected this.
“Y’know this is why they call you Man-Whore Munson” She grabbed her bag and moved in front of him, as he buttoned his pants.
“Jules I-” Eddie started, an apology on his tongue when Jules held up her red manicured finger telling him to stop and shut up.
“Don’t start with me Eddie, I knew what this was. Like I said, you are known as Man-Whore Munson, I didn’t expect you to drop down on a knee and propose after a few fucks” He winced at the vulgarity, he knew that’s what the truth of it was but even after all the late nights he had, he hated facing the reality of it. Of the life he had chosen for himself.
“Just let me say, from one slut to another” Jules started without an air of care.
“You're not a slut, Jules” Eddie tried having known Jules for awhile, as she had been a groupie in his second world tour mostly joining because she hoped to catch Jeff’s attention. Which poor oblivious Jeff never caught on to which inevitably left her to seek refuge in Eddie’s bed.
“Shut it Munson, there’s no need to feel bad. Your a good fuck and a decent guy. But as I was saying, I do this because I want to, I have fun. You however seem like a kicked puppy after every fuck, it’s depressing and to be honest, it’s quite a turn off” She said with her usual amount of sass.
“Well that’s something every guy wants to hear” Eddie replied, in annoyance hoping to get out of this conversation as soon as possible.
“All I’m saying is work your shit out. This life ain’t for everyone.” She shrugged, grabbing her bag, kissing him on the cheek, her red lips staining his cheek as she strutted her way out of the room.
As she opened the door, she stopped turning back for a second “Or you could do all of us and yourself a favor and go back to the one”
“How are you so sure I have met the one?” Rolled his eyes, trying to prevent the ache in his heart at the thought.
“Oh hope off it Munson. With guys like you, there is always the one” She smirked, noticing the look on Eddie’s face. “See you later” she shouted, shutting the door behind her.
Leaving Eddie alone in the smoky, dingy motel room, her words lingering in his head. He thought about the one. You.
Memories of your laughter echoed in his mind, you and him sipping milkshakes, giggling at his dramatic displays of affection, the soft whines and moans you let him pull out of you. Eddie caught him smiling to himself for a second before the worst memory of all entered his mind, attacking and killing all the rest.
Your heartbroken face, eyes red rimmed with tears streaming down, then you getting in your car and driving away from him. He shook his head and proceeded to put on his shirt, gathering his leather jacket and making his way out.
Stardom had been everything he had expected it to be. Late nights, crazy concerts, lots and lots of drugs and beautiful women throwing themselves at him. He was living his dream, but there was something in Eddie that never was able to enjoy it.
No matter how many drugs he ingested or how many women he took to bed, nothing made him forget about you. About your sweetness, about how it felt to have you in his arms or how it felt to laugh with you, how it felt to be in you, or how devastating it felt to see you heartbroken and know he was the cause of it.
The days after the break up Eddie had put on a front, focusing all his energy and mind into his new life, the dream he had chosen over you. He had to, because if this life. The life he had chosen over a simple quiet one with you turned into another failure in Eddie Munson’s life he would never have been able to forgive himself. The funny thing was, everything turned out to be wonderful.
Corroded Coffin’s first album was a hit, one song landing on the top ten and playing on MTV. To be fair the first few months were quite a blur, he had been grieving all he left behind in Hawkins. Eddie hadn’t expected to miss the small town so much, but his break up with you had hit harder once he had arrived in LA.
He had tried so many drugs that year, he could barely remember their first national tour. Then the amount of women that had wanted a taste of the lead singer, Jules was probably right about the nickname he was given because Eddie Munson indeed became a Man Whore. Screwing almost every groupie or model that looked his way.
Then came Corroded Coffin’s second album which only solidified the band's status in LA and in the music world. Eddie had eased up on the drugs but still had his fair share at parties and an occasional joint during band practice. After that he became more selective of his female conquests, trying to avoid any woman that even reminded him of you.
Which wasn’t particularly hard, you were one in a million.
The band mates had called him out on his proclivities which had irritated him, he hated facing the reality of his love life because if he faced reality, he would have to face that there would never be another you. That you were out of his life indefinitely, he could handle the break up but to face the painful fact that he would one day fall in love with someone else or that you already had. Eddie couldn’t handle that, it hurt too much, to think that it was all truly over. Along with the fact that, it was entirely his fault.
Gareth had reminded him of the fact consistently which had led to countless fights between the two, always claiming that if it weren’t for you, Corroded Coffin wouldn’t be where they were at. That you should be with them instead of Jules or Lila or Janice or any of the numbers of women Eddie had invited into their tour bus.
Eddie knew Gareth was right but he couldn’t face it, could never face the truth, or the choice he had made. He should’ve ran to you, invited you along. Or he could have just stayed.
Though that was all in the past now, Eddie was here in the present and in the present he would shack up with Jules or Lila or Janice until any memory of you was pushed to the back of his mind.
Now on their third world tour, Corroded Coffin was currently staying in some motel room in Philadelphia. He had sprung for a motel room, not wanting to hear all the complaints that Jeff, Gareth and Doug would have for him. He was fully prepared to walk onto the tour bus and see Jeff’s judgemental gaze and hear an insult flying from Gareth’s mouth but it never came.
When he fully entered the bus, he could see Jeff on the phone, a lone tear falling from his eyes as Doug sat beside him, patting him on the back in comfort. Both Gareth and Doug looked at Jeff with pity and sadness in their eyes as well.
“Aye What-What Happened?” Eddie whispered softly in panic not wanting to interrupt whatever terrible phone call Jeff had received early in the morning.
Gareth turned to him, voice soft as well “Jeff’s dad died early this morning, they said it was a stroke”
Gareth’s voice wavered slightly delivering the news, and Eddie felt like he had received a punch in the gut. Jeff’s father had been like a third father to Eddie (After Wayne of course) always encouraging the boys to keep pursuing their dreams, he even helped Eddie fix up the van and taught him how to change a tire.
The boys had stayed silent as Jeff finished his somber phone call with his grieving mother, more tears tracked down Jeff’s face. He sat silent for a second, trying to find the words to say, but only four words came from his mouth. Four words that while Eddie understood were probably the last words Eddie had wanted to hear that morning.
“We gotta go home”
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Three knocks rapped against your front door.
“I’ll be right there” You shouted from inside the bathroom. Your eyes scanned the version of you in the mirror, looking for anything out of place. You adjusted your dress once more before running out the bathroom, you turned to look at the clock on the wall. You were a little behind schedule but being behind schedule has become your new normal in the past six years.
You swung open the door, smiling at the older man on the other side. “Wayne” you breathed out “Thank you so much for coming on such short notice” You moved to the side letting the man into your home.
“Oh don’t worry about it, Darling. You know I can never stop myself from saying no to you” Wayne said sweetly. You could only smile back at the man you had known since you were fifteen.
You could feel his gaze on you, scanning your new hair do and freshly applied makeup that you had spent hours on.
“You look wonderful, Darling. First anniversary is it? getting real serious ain’t it?” Wayne asked, eyebrows raised in question. Though you could hear the teasing tone in his voice. You didn’t much like talking about your love life with anyone, especially Wayne but it was hard to keep it a secret when he frequented your life so often.
“I don’t know about that. H-He’s nice” you shrugged trying to hide the pink coloring your cheeks, twiddling with your fingers out of nervousness.
“Well you deserve nice, darling, and don’t worry on about me. I don’t tell that boy nothin” Wayne replied his voice turning sour as he said the last half, and an old ache settled in your chest.
“Thank you Wayne but you don’t need to be so angry on my account” You pleaded with him knowing that while he still loved and cared for his nephew, even he held the same amount of resentment at the boy as you did.
“I will be as angry as I like. Only a fool could ever let a gal like you go. Now let me and Miss Izzy be on our way. We don’t wanna keep lover boy waiting” He winked at you but also reminded you of how late you already were for your plans.
“Right. Izzy! Sweetie, Grandpa Wayne is here” You shouted before turning back to the older man, only a few seconds passed before you could hear the light steps of a small child running on the wood floors.
“GRAMPA WAYNE” The young girl yelled as she ran towards Wayne. A red and black stuffed bunny hanging from her fingers as jumped into the older man's arms. Him picking her up and raising her to the sky without a care to his own health.
“Izzy, what did I say about running to Grandpa Wayne like that? You're gonna hurt him” You scolded your five year old daughter.
“I’m sowwy, Grampa” The small girl said toward Wayne. Her eyes wide pleading for forgiveness, showcasing the same dramatics she could have only received from her father. Though while she bared a striking resemblance to your childhood self, there was no denying who her father was. Isabel was her father’s daughter, both in looks but in personality.
“Oh, it’s alright, Sweets. I’ll carry you and throw you until my back snaps in two” he said to the five year old, her giggling at his words.
“Again, thank you so much Wayne. My mom was supposed to babysit but she just came down with the flu. I can pay you if you’d like?” You explained, you didn’t mind Wayne babysitting your daughter as he had been there for the two of you since the day his nephew had left Hawkins. Though there was a small part of you that hated asking him for too much.
“Like I said Darling, no need to thank me. Spending anytime with my sweet grandbaby is enough payment.” He said lightly tickling the girl in his arms, her laughter spreading delight in the small house.
“You look pwetty mommy” She said, turning in her grandfather’s arms to touch your powdered face with her small fingers.
“Thank you Darling” You beamed and took a step closer, “Okay Sweet Pea, You will be spending the night with Grandpa Wayne but I will be bright and early to pick you up okay?” You explained adjusting the sweater around her torso, making sure she would be safe in the cold air.
Your daughter nodded her head, wrapping her arms around your neck from her place in Wayne’s arms “Otay Mommy” She replied, her little fingers getting stuck in your hair and probably messing up the hairstyle you spent 40 minutes on.
“Be very good for Grandpa Wayne and when I pick you up we can go for pancakes. How does that sound?”
The girl's eyes went wide with excitement as she began wiggling in her Grandfather’s hold, “Can we get a milkshake too?” she asked eyes pleading to you. You giggled at your daughters face, you could never say no to her.
“Of course, sweet pea but you got to be good for Wayne”
“I will be so so good. I promith” The young girl replied, you only smiled back at her, a moment of guilt filled you not wanting to leave your sweet girl. Though you couldn't deny the excitement in your gut for the night.
Wayne and Izzy made their way out the door, before driving off to spend the night at Wayne’s trailer. You composed yourself, fixing your hair from the mess your daughter had made before grabbing your purse and meeting the man who was currently waiting patiently for you.
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“You look beautiful” He said, a twinkle in his eyes as they surveyed your face and your body. 
You felt yourself blush, it had been a long time since someone had looked at you with such hungry eyes. Though now after a year of dating, you supposed it should’ve felt casual, normal but a small part of you still wanted to shrink into yourself, to run away. Though your mothers words rang in your head. 
“You can’t hide away forever. You are hot stuff, you gotta move on with your life eventually” 
So instead of instantly running away, you accepted the compliment and thanked the man in front of you. You had met him at a bar when you went out for your co-worker Steve's birthday. You had walked outside to call your mom to check in on Izzy. (and to avoid the music blaring inside the bar.) 
When the man with chocolate brown hair, and a gray suit with his tie undone walked up to you. He had flirted with you unashamedly and then bought you a drink. When the night was over you had danced twice and he had slipped you a card with his name and  number on it. 
‘Adam Linden, Hawkins Post Journalist’
(260) - 555- 6784
You were wary of putting your heart out there again, though the feelings he gave you, were so refreshing. You hadn’t realized how in need of affection you were until you were being showered in it. You didn’t want to give love a try after Izzy’s father left. You spent the first three years focused solely on school and motherhood showering a baby Izzy with all the love and affection of two parents, while receiving very little for yourself. 
You had gone on a date with Steve Harrington, but that only made you realize that you and him wouldn’t work out, mostly because Izzy’s father had left you distrustful and insecure. After that, you mostly avoided dating, not wanting the judgment that came with you being a single mother, or the fear of having your heart broken. 
But when one Adam Linden strolled up to you, a cigarette hanging from his lips and a promise to buy you a drink, absent from any music or memory of a man from the past. 
You wouldn’t deny, you were not completely comfortable, your dates with a certain Munson boy were always relaxed. Pizza dinners, movies, Bob’s diner whereas dates with Adam were five star restaurants and office parties. Though Adam seemed entirely interested in you, and it felt good. To be desired, to be wanted. The change of relationship was daunting, but every date you had with Adam there was a flicker of the dream you let go of. The dream of a true family, with a loving husband and children running underfoot. 
Adam was a perfect choice to fulfill your dreams, he was kind, understanding, and had a stable job. He wasn’t the kind of man to run away from you for a better job, he would take you with him, buy you a house with a white picket fence. You would be content, and your Izzy would have a father. 
When you were younger it was an image of a perfect home with you baking cookies with two kids, a husband with his hair pulled up and into a bun, with a few curls hanging loose. Him putting on a vinyl as he came to dance with one of the children, stealing a bite of the cookie dough. A perfect husband and two faceless, nameless children. 
The dream was different now though, one of the children wasn't faceless or nameless, She was a bright bubbly little girl named Isabel who enjoyed dragons and princesses, who had the wildest curls and the biggest brown eyes. Who was born with all the confidence you lacked but matched you in curiosity, who was too dramatic for her own good. You could see her with another little sister or brother, being careful as she taught them how to properly mix the pancake batter or there could be an oopsie. Now the picture of your husband was different, he probably wouldn’t worry about playing music or stealing cookie dough. You could picture Adam there with you, he probably would be the kind of man to sit at the table and read the newspaper with his coffee, or maybe he would be at work, or maybe he would be right by your side helping the children? 
“Babe?” Adam asked, your mind returned to the present. Your hand on a wine glass, and a half-finished grilled salmon on your plate. Adam had his brows furrowed looking at you.
“Sorry, today was tiring. I zoned out a bit, what were you saying?” You gave a tired trying smile after you explained. Your mind returns back to the present, to the man in front of you. 
He smiled softly at you, he opened his mouth to say something but quickly stopped when the waiter came to collect your plates, sliding a piece of chocolate cake in front of you. 
“I didn’t order this” You spoke to the waiter.
“I did, babe. I know you love chocolate cake” You blushed at the gesture; you wouldn’t say it was your absolute favorite, but the thought is what counted. 
“Thank You, Adam. I do love some cake” You tried to joke but it seemed to fall on deaf ears with only Adam looking at you intently with a sort of look that made you want to run for the hills. 
When you grabbed your fork, you moved the plate slightly for a better cut. That is when you noticed the shimmering jewelry hidden by the pastry. You turned the plate fully to reveal a glittering diamond ring sat next to the chocolate cake. Staring at you, asking a question. 
You felt absolutely sick at the sight, but when the man before you stood up from his seat and kneeled before you. A hopeful look in his eyes, and lovely words spouting from his mouth, the looks of dozens of curious restaurant guests staring at you. 
The dream flickered once more, so instead of running from fear. You accepted it. 
“Yes, i’ll— I would be delighted to marry you” 
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Eddie’s car pulled up to the trailer. It had been almost six years since had been back, not wanting to return to his one pony town but the worst crises do bring people back together. 
Eddie hadn’t felt nerves like this since his first real concert in LA but this was much worse. He wasn’t nervous at all when he was on the plane but that could’ve been because of all the whiskey he had decided to drink before taking flight.  
Walking up the steps of his home and knocking on the trailer door like he was a stranger, made Eddie feel homesick for the first time in years. When the door opened, the air of home filled his senses, not only the smell of his trailer which arguably was just old furniture and cigarette smoke but it also was the sight of the man who raised him. Wayne. 
“Wayne” Eddie breathed a sigh of relief, grateful for the man in front of him. He had spent so many years in La La Land running from reality, living in some parallel universe but he was finally here. It was unfortunate  that it took the death of one Mathew Davis to bring him back to earth but Eddie was back home.
 While Eddie was on the plane, drunk out of his mind, watching a grieving Jeff cry over his father, Eddie felt fear. That maybe he would return home, and find everything different and that he could be in Jeff’s position. Grieving over someone he left behind, but here was Wayne Munson, seemingly healthy but undeniably alive and still in his trailer. 
Like nothing had changed. 
“Eddie” Wayne smiled for half a second before bringing Eddie into his arms, hugging the boy who was a son to him. As swiftly as Wayne hugged him, he let go and folded his arms back to himself. A stern look settled in his face, like a wall being put up. Eddie felt something change, like he was about to be scolded for the first time in six years, Eddie stood awkwardly beneath the harsh stare of Wayne Munson. 
“So are you gonna let me in?” Eddie asked after a few seconds. Wayne, still silent, backed up, and moved to the side, letting Eddie into the trailer. 
Eddie surveyed his surroundings, everything was practically the same. There were some appliances that were changed out like the tv and the microwave, most likely bought from the money Eddie would send Wayne sometimes. Though the old couch that had cigarette burns was all the same. It was simply an old couch that many even Eddie would talk crap upon but Eddie could only feel happy at the sight of it. A wave of memories filled Eddie’s mind as he took in the sight of the old grandma couch and the smell of stale air. 
His first night with Wayne after his mom left,  A young small Eddie laying on the couch, finally asleep with dried tears on his face while Wayne covered him with a blanket. 
Then at age 12, sitting on the couch with the coffee table moved to be right in front of him while the boys sat on the carpet surrounding him. It was his first D&D game as a dungeon master.
 You and him at 15, making out on the couch, you on top then him on top, limbed intertwined. You and him at 16, cuddling and eating popcorn as Wayne sat on his usual chair, watching horror movies, with temporary smiles on all of your faces. 
Eddie stepped forward and sat on the couch, the cushion sinking in from the weight. His fingers grazed the side of the couch, but a bright shade of red caught his sight. Slightly poking out from underneath one of the pillows. Curiosity getting the best of him, Eddie reached and plucked out what seemed to be a red and black stuffed bunny. 
“Wayne, What the hell is this?” Eddie held up the stuffed animal with a few fingers showcasing it but Wayne quickly tore it from his fingers, as if Eddie had accidentally grabbed Wayne’s favorite pair of underwear.
 Eddie was confused by the sight of the stuffed animal in what was supposed to be a childless old man's home, but Eddie became even more put off by the fact that Wayne adjusted the bunny in his hands before setting it gently down next to the television as if it was some prized jewel. Eddie stared at Wayne with a look that begged him to explain his odd behavior along with the strange discovery.  
“It’s a gift for the Byers” Wayne explained but even after years apart, Eddie knew there was something off about Wayne. 
“The Byers?” Eddie titled his head in question, unbelieving of the explanation.
“Yes, Joyce Byers was telling me that Jonathan and his wife, Nancy, finally got pregnant. So i bought this as a gift” Eddie didn’t fully buy the explanation as last he remembered Jonathan Byers couldn’t even talk to a girl, let alone Nancy Wheeler, but it had been a long time. The same thing could have been said about him once. Though even with that explanation Eddie was still unsure, or maybe he was still hungover from the bottle he drank before getting on the plane to Hawkins. 
“Oh good for them then” Eddie smiled his usual smile but Wayne didn’t smile, or laugh or give him a funny remark, simply stared as if he was sizing him up. Eddie shrank into himself like he was fourteen again getting caught for stealing one of Wayne’s beers. Wayne sighed, and shook his head softly, preparing for the talk ahead. 
“What are you doing here, Ed?” sitting down next to Eddie with a face full of contempt. 
“Jeff’s dad died. Didn’t you hear?” Eddie didn’t understand Wayne’s reaction, Eddie didn’t expect a party but he half expected Wayne to be happy to see him. Though now it seemed like he wanted nothing more than Eddie out of his house. 
The distance between Eddie and Wayne now, with them in the same room seated on the same couch felt far greater than it did when they were 2,000 miles apart. Eddie knew some people in town wouldn’t be too excited to see him but he never anticipated Wayne’s reaction to be this cold. 
“I know that, prolly knew before you did. So that’s why you're here, for the funeral and then you're off again?” 
Eddie sighed, taking a look around the trailer, everywhere but at the older man. He knew why Wayne was upset now, it almost felt like deja vu for Eddie. It was his breakup with you all over again. Like you, Wayne seemed to be angry that Eddie followed his dreams, was able to get out of shithole Hawkins. It irritated Eddie, he had made it big but just like you, and Gareth and the rest of the boys, Wayne only seemed to care for Eddie’s failures more than his triumphs.  
“I don’t know why you make it seem so bad. I’m a rockstar Wayne” Eddie tried to reason with the older man but Wayne just let out a disbelieving scoff. 
“So I've heard. You're a rock star when it’s a holiday, when it’s a birthday, when you have a girl crying to you. You’re always a rock star” Wayne stood up from the couch and took a few steps away as if he couldn’t stand to be near his nephew in those moments.  
Eddie tried to ignore the pang of guilt he felt at the mention of you, but he only scoffed and directed any of his guilty feelings back at Wayne. “You didn’t seem to complain about me being a rock star when you needed a new tv, or you hurt your hand at work and needed to pay the bill. You're just mad I actually got out of this shithole unlike you” the venomous words fell out of Eddie’s mouth and there was no taking them back. 
Once again, Eddie Munson stood in his place in this trailer saying things he did not mean to someone who meant the world to him. Eddie had regretted the things he said to you the second he said them, and once again he felt the familiar regret seep into his body and make his heart ache and his throat thick. Just like before, he didn’t try to apologize, and simply sat there, dumbfounded by his own words. 
Wayne seemed unfazed, almost predicting this of his nephew. If the words did hurt, Wayne didn’t let it show. Though his disappointment in the boy in front of him was clear as day, practically emanating off his stoic form. 
Wayne shook his head in disbelief  “I always knew you were thick in the head, boy, but I thought I had raised you to be better than this. I ain't mad that you made it, I'm proud that you got out of this shithole. I’m just mad that you never came home, not once did you look back. I was waiting for you to. if i had known that someone dying would’ve brought you home, i would’ve died years ago.” 
The words hit Eddie harder, another shot hitting his heart as an ache grew all over his chest, and like blood a new found guilt seeped into his body. Eddie’s anger deflated as he simply watched as Wayne began to move around the trailer seeming to collect things. Eddie had no words for Wayne, not knowing what to say or what he could say to fix things. Eddie didn’t think there was anything that could make up for how he made Wayne feel. 
“Wayne” Eddie tried but Wayne didn’t seem to care what he had to say. Lifting up a hand as he put on a jacket and slung a lunch bag decorated in a few stickers over his shoulder. 
“It doesn't matter, Eds. Your home now, just don’t drink any of my beers and we’ll be fine until you go” Wayne sounded tired, but he only moved toward the door trying to get away from his nephew. Eddie stood up as if he was gonna follow him but he didn't move from his place or say a word, frozen. “I gotta go to work. I’ll see you later”
“Work? What happened to your night shifts?” Eddie asked, the question was genuine as Eddie had only ever known Wayne to work night shifts, but Eddie also knew it was just an excuse to keep Wayne around just a little bit longer. To try and find the words to fix what he had destroyed. 
“Things change.” Wayne said dejectedly, opening the door to try to leave but as if Eddie’s time was running out he asked one more thing abruptly. Eddie didn’t know why he asked, why it was the first thing to fall from his lips, he just knew he needed to know before Wayne left for work. 
 “Wait. Wayne, before you go. Can I-I— Do you- Um do you know if she still lives around here? Or anything about her?” Eddie asked with a pleading look in his eyes, he didn’t even know if he wanted to know. What if you were terrible, unhappy and alone without him? Or what if it was the opposite, what if you were perfectly happy and even better without him? He wasn’t sure which he preferred, they both made him want to cry. 
Wayne stopped and turned around to look at Eddie, this time all the stoicness of Wayne Munson left and only a look of disappointment and resentment showed clear on his face.  
“I may have sat on that couch waiting for you to come home, but that doesn't mean she did. Not all of us can wait six years. Like I said, things change, Eddie” 
Yeah, Eddie Munson was starting to get that. 
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Eddie had stood in his place for longer than he wanted to admit, after the exchange he had with Wayne he didn’t know what to do. He also hadn’t been home for years, he couldn’t just go back to smoking in his room or playing his guitar. He couldn’t hang with the boys as they were all probably hanging out with their own families, most likely having a better welcome home than Eddie had received. They actually visited their families in the past six years. 
Eddie walked around the trailer mindlessly, smiling at the memories but frowning at all the changes in his family home. The tv, the microwave, the ripped stitch in Wayne’s old chair had been fixed, there was no longer a dinner chair that rocked because it was uneven. It had all been replaced. 
Eddie’s eyes stopped when he reached  the refrigerator seeing a drawing. It wasn’t the best drawing clearly drawn by a child, it was all stick figures. One was a stick figure of a man with three hairs coming out of his head, Eddie let out a chuckle when he read the name above the figure. 
‘Wayne’
What confused Eddie were the other two figures, one of a young girl with their loops on her head, she wore a red dress and was holding on to the stick figure of Wayne and another stick figure of a woman with a blue dress. The words ‘Izzy’ and ‘mommy’ written over their heads. 
Eddie looked back to the red and black bunny that sat proper next to the television. Did Wayne have a lady friend that he never told him about? Eddie thought to himself. 
 Eddie was unsure of his idea, but he hoped it might be true. It would mean Wayne wasn’t alone all these years. Eddie chose to ignore the drawing for now, hoping to question Wayne for answers when he got home. He was about to reach inside for a beer when he remembered Wayne’s words not to drink any of his beers. Usually, Eddie would have ignored the request, and simply would have taken one and laughed it off later when Wayne would scold him, but that was a long time ago. Wayne was never this angry at Eddie before, he didn’t want to push it, especially if he had a chance to make it better. 
So Eddie closed the refrigerator door, and reached for his rental car keys in his pocket. Melvalds would still be around, while things were sure different now. There was no chance Hawkins would get rid of one of its only few stores, there had to be a place for all these people to get a pack of cigarettes and beers. 
Eddie was about to be on his way when the phone rang, like if he was a teenager once again Eddie reached for the phone answering in his usual jokingly manner “Munson Residence” 
The line was silent. “Hello?” Eddie asked but no answer, the line then quickly cut off before Eddie had the chance to ask if anyone was there. Eddie waited for a few seconds, maybe it was a bad line and they would call again but nothing.
 Eddie shook off the interaction making his way out of the door, back to his previous plans. 
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After the proposal, you felt as if you were in a daze, far from reality. You had heard from some of your friends that the prospect of getting married was ‘an unreal experience’ though you were unsure if this is what they meant. When you went to pick up Izzy from Wayne’s that night, you hadn’t said anything, you even took off the bright engagement ring from your finger for those few minutes. 
You didn’t not want to get married but thought you should at least feel overjoyed. Now in this moment though, as you had a half eaten plate of waffles and fruit in front of you, you knew you had to talk to your favorite person. Who was currently sitting right in front of you, with a sticky face from all the syrup of her pancakes, who was currently begging for the milkshake she was promised. 
“Once you are finished with your food, I will order the shake. Just eat now, sweet pea” You explained softly, but as you watched as the little girl stuffed her face with another giant bite of food. You couldn't help the laugh that fell from your lips at the sight 
“Okay maybe eat a little slower” You leaned forward to wipe her face with a napkin, feeling slightly lighter now that you looked at her. 
Izzy was the light of your life for the past six years, your reason for getting up in the morning, the reason you could smile in the darkest of moments. Even before she was born she helped you get through your first heartbreak and even after she was born, you knew you could never love anything as much.You wanted her to be as happy as she made you, everything you did was for her. Which is probably why this conversation was so hard to start.You knew she wouldn’t mind a father but would she like having Adam as her father?
You were unsure how to approach the conversation with someone so young. This wasn’t just a life change for you but for her as well. Izzy had met Adam before but only a few times, and you still didn’t know how she felt about ‘mommy’s friend’. 
You had been hesitant for a while for Izzy to meet Adam, he had known you were a mother but you feared actually meeting her would change everything, especially if Izzy didn’t like him. It wasn’t until the 10th date that he had briefly met Izzy, he had greeted her when he was picking you up for a date. He had brought you a bouquet of flowers that Izzy had just loved.  
So the second time had been a much more formal greeting, where he had introduced himself, giving her a much smaller bouquet of flowers asking her if he could take her mommy out for dinner. The girl too mesmerized by the flowers said yes but you could tell she was a bit reluctant to see you go with the man she barely knew. The few other times the three of you had time together was when he had breakfast with you and Izzy one morning after he and you spent the night together. Izzy had never been a shy child but she seemed to become one around Adam, never speaking to him directly. She seemed to grow more comfortable after the three of you went out one night for his annual family christmas party. Though it was more likely to have to do with Adam’s family dog than Adam himself. 
“So sweet pea, you know mommy’s friend Adam right?” You broached delicately, moving to sit closer to her in the diner booth. 
She hummed but didn’t seem to pay attention to you, only focusing on finishing her pancakes. “He smells funny,” she said absentmindedly, finishing a bite. You chuckled lightly, understanding she meant Adam’s love and slight overuse of cologne. 
“Yes he does smell funny” You agreed before broaching the subject. “Ho-How would you feel if Adam was around a little more?” You tried to read your daughter’s face but you weren’t even sure she would understand what you meant. 
She tilted her head in thought, her lips pursing to the side deep in thought. “Like Grandpa Wayne?” She asked before eating her final piece of pancake. 
You let out a fake awkward laugh “No no, sweet pea. More like a daddy” You cringed as you spoke the words, your body stiffening in preparation for her response.  Your daughter looked at you surprised, you tried to smile but you were definitely not expecting what she would do next. She laughed. 
“You so silly mommy. Adam don’t look like daddy” She only giggled and looked at you in disbelief, to say you were confused was a little to say the least. You tried to laugh with her but you were still unsure of what she meant. 
“What do you mean sweet pea?” You asked leaning closer to her as she stared at you with a smile, her fingers moving her hair away, something you noticed, knowing she would have to take a bath later. 
“Daddies got long hair, curly like mine. I remember. Adam don’t have that. He has short hair.” She explained as if it was the most obvious thing but it only made your chest ache. 
You understood now, she was talking to her about her real father and now you knew she was confused because of you. You had mistakenly shown Izzy a photo of her father and you from highschool. 
It was after her first week of school, she had come home crying that everyone else had ‘daddies’ but she only had a ‘mommy’ which is when you explained to her that her daddy was ‘far away’ and showed her the photo. It was of you both at seventeen in Hellfire shirts, his arms wrapped around your middle from behind as you looked up at him, dazed and in love and he looked at the camera, smiling. Ironic.
“Well I- Iz. Your daddy– He–. Remember when I said that daddy was far away. He is still away, and Adam H-He is right here. He would be like a new daddy? ” Your voice broke slightly as you explained, admittedly it was probably a bad explanation but you didn’t know how to.When it came to your dad your mom only told you that he was in the sky, and you never had asked for her to elaborate but you came to understand what that meant with age. 
Izzy only stared at you with a confused expression, her lips pursed once again. You could tell she didn’t fully understand what you meant by ‘away’ but she didn’t need to understand that her father was away because he didn’t want her or you. You barely understood yourself.
“But what if daddy comes back from twip” She tilted her head in question once again, she was only asking a genuine question in her mind. Though she didn’t understand how much she was breaking your heart. After you had initially told Izzy about her father and him being ‘Away’ she seemed to chipper up and became indifferent, but now you knew. She wasn’t indifferent because she stopped caring about having a father, she was still waiting for him to come back. 
You were now in Bob’s diner on the verge of tears, how were you supposed to explain it to her without hurting her feelings.Before you could find the right words, Izzy interrupted you. 
“I fink I forgot Ozzy, mommy” 
This caught you off guard, you had been so wrapped off in your thoughts and post-proposal daze that you hadn't even noticed that the bright red bunny that Izzy had humorously  named Ozzy was not attached to her or anywhere in sight. “Did you leave it at Grandpa Wayne’s?” 
“ I fink so” She said, wiping her mouth with a napkin. You looked at the clock on the diner wall, Wayne wouldn’t start work for a few minutes, maybe he could drop it off on his way? You thought to yourself.
 “Can I have my milkshake now?” Izzy, her eyes wide as she looked to you awaiting your answer for her favorite dessert. 
“Yeah Sweetpea, just let me call Grandpa Wayne. Maybe he can bring Ozzy” You put on a fake smile as you explained to her but honestly you needed to step away, to have a distraction. You knew this conversation with Izzy would be difficult but not this heart breaking.
 You took a deep breath and walked to the diner counter, you knew they would have a phone on the wall where you could call Wayne from. You also knew that Wayne could be of help when it came with conversations about absent parents to young children. 
The phone rang a few times and you were just about worried that Wayne had left for work and you would have to deal with a crying Izzy tonight, when the phone finally connected you felt a brief relief until the voice on the other line spoke. A voice you hadn’t heard clearly in years, and two words that made you feel like the earth had just shattered beneath your feet. “Munson Residence” 
It was like your vocal chords had been cut and you were frozen in place. “Hello?” the familiar  voice said again, you regained consciousness then. 
You looked to your daughter who was standing on her knees, her body stretched over the booth as she stared at you, awaiting her milkshake. You stiffly put the phone back on the receiver. You were practically shaking, as you walked back to the booth. 
“What happen mommy?” Your daughter noticed your shaking hands.You had forgotten your mother mentioned that Jeff’s father had passed but he never came back, even when all the boys did. Though he was here now. 
 “Nothing baby, nothing at all” You pulled out your wallet, setting money down as quickly as you could. You needed to leave, if he was back In Hawkins he would probably get lunch or dinner or breakfast. Bob’s Diner was his favorite place to eat when you were together, you were unsure if his tastes had changed but you were not going to risk finding out. 
“Come on, Sweetpea. Let’s go” You spoke to your daughter who only looked at you strangely. 
“But my milkshake mommy. You promithed” She whined, her lips coming to form a pout. Shit, you had forgotten about the milkshake. You could see the beginnings of a temper tantrum, so you kneeled down before your daughter. 
“I know I know. Um- How about we stop at Melvalds very very quick and I make you milkshake at home and if we make them at home, we can watch the little mermaid, how about that?” You tried to reason, after being a single mom for a few years you knew exactly how to make your daughter happy. You just needed out of this diner immediately. 
She sat in thought for a lot longer than you wanted to, but eventually agreed with an “Otay” and bounced her way out of the booth. 
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Eddie Munson entered Melvalds with a ring at the door,  the sight of the store made Eddie happy that not everything had changed. It was still the same shade of blue and white, and teens were still making a mess in the chip aisle and it still played the same old 50s music. 
When Eddie was young he hated it, always wanting something good like Metallica or Black Sabbath, he even tried to convince the owner once but that only made him threaten to kick Eddie out or arrest him for loitering. Though for the first time Eddie was grateful for the boring music, it brought him a wave of nostalgia. 
Eddie made his way going straight for the beer aisle but the colorful section of candy caught his eyes. He stopped there, deciding maybe getting Wayne and himself some candy might be a good way to ease the tension. He looked for a pack of Swedish fish when a little voice spoke. 
“You look like my daddy” Eddie turned to the sight of a small girl, dressed in an overall dress, with curly hair and a missing tooth. She stared straight up at him with a smile, she was fidgety in her stance, almost bouncing in place, but she only stared at him with big bright eyes in awe. 
Eddie looked around the aisle, seeing no one else but the little girl in front of him. “I-I’m sorry.What?” 
“You” the young girl said with utmost confidence and a small finger pointed straight at him “look like my daddy” She said with more emphasis. 
Eddie laughed a nervous laugh, he kneeled down to the girls height to get a better look at the obviously confused girl. He couldn’t deny there was a slight resemblance but he wasn’t the only man with wild curly hair and brown eyes in the world. There's no way. Eddie thought.
“ I don’t think that’s possible, sweetie. I haven’t lived in Hawkins in over five years” Eddie tried to reason with the small child that he was indeed not her father, hoping she was just as confused as he was. 
“I’m almost six” She practically shouted at him with a cheeky grin on her face. One that Eddie hated to say looked familiar. She stuck her hands out, showing him six fingers. 
“Oh I— Well sweetie. I— That does not mean” Eddie tried to find a way to explain but then remembered she was a child, he looked around hoping to find the girl’s parents. A mother or even better a father, but besides a few teenagers, there was no one else. Eddie tried thinking of another solution, to try and get himself out of this situation “What is your daddy’s name?” 
This seemed to throw the young girl for a loop, her eyes widened and Eddie could see the gears in her mind turning as she twisted her mouth to the side. Which only made Eddie feel like he was looking into a mirror. Which only made Eddie feel more sick, but the denial in his mind was strong. There was only one way this child could be his, and well there was no way. Right? 
 Her small finger came to tap onto her chin, as she thought about it. “Um. I don’t member but my mommy told me a long time ago” She shrugged
Eddie smiled at the young girl but the twisting feeling in his gut didn’t subside. Eddie tried to find another way out of this uncomfortable situation, he thought that maybe he could just tell the young girl goodbye and be on his way but he still didn’t see a single person old enough to be a parent. While Eddie could admit he has been an asshole lately, he wasn’t that big of an asshole to leave a lost child alone. “Where is your mommy?” 
“She's buying me ice cream” The girl turned around and pointed at the cash register sign that read ‘Cashier 5’ 
 Though before Eddie could ask if he could walk her to her mommy, the voice of the mother seemed to begin calling “Izzy, did you pick out your candy?” 
Eddie knew that voice, it had been six years since he heard it but he undeniably knew that voice. He had dreamed about it often, and then there it was again “Izzy? Lets go” 
Then she appeared before him, the face he had dreamed of for years, for a second he thought he might be in another dream, but she looked older, more mature than in his dreams but still as beautiful as ever. Eddie only stared and smiled without thinking, while she stared at him with a look of shock and fear, both of them frozen before each other. He had wanted to see her for so long and now she was here in front of him. With a pint of ice cream in her hands? and a ring on her? Wait, did she say Izzy?
 Everything was finally coming together in his mind like lyrics to a melody. 
The two stared at each other still in shock, as if trying to find her words she only breathed out one. “Eddie” 
The two of them snapped out of their frozen daze when an abrupt loud voice of the little girl before them yelled in realization. 
“OH YEAH! That's my daddy’s name!” her large brown eyes stared at him, mirroring his own. 
Eddie Munson finally truly understood.
Things really do change. 
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AN: I feel like I might have disappointed y'all with this part, but I promise there will be a lot more Eddie and reader in the next part but what do you guys think?
Please Like, Comment, & Reblog.
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not-neverland06 · 3 days
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How About a Nuke?
Part VIII / Part IX
(Completed) Series Masterlist
Cooper Howard x fem!reader, The ghoul x fem!reader A/N: PLEASE READ, we have reached the end of their journey and I am so sad/happy/excited about it. I don’t even know how to feel honestly. I just want to thank everyone who has commented, messaged or reblogged this story. Your kind words and funny little depressed memes have been really uplifting for me. I was actually considering just giving up on this blog when I posted the first chapter. I haven’t had much inspiration lately or interaction I feel like, and you all have helped reignite that spark within me. Summary: There’s something keeping you tied to Cooper Howard, an invisible string wrapped around you both. You’ve fought against it as long as you could but he’s not gonna let you fight for much longer.
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It’s been a month and the bounty on her head gets bigger everyday. Normally the compound hires privately, they don’t like going through the agencies. He figures with Sylvie dead they’re struggling to find a new leader and they’re falling apart. Or they’re just desperate for her head on a stick. 
He sees her face everywhere, crudely drawn images of her varying in their accuracy. In some she has a hat like his on, in others her nose is the wrong shape, or her eyes are all wrong. No one seems to have a good grasp on who she is. Out of curiosity and a strange need to know she’s still alive, he’s asked around. 
There are different rumors as to where she’s hiding out. Some think she’s taken to hiding out in the caves near Filly. Anyone with half a brain knows that the area’s overrun by irradiated bears and other mutated freaks. 
There are those that say they’ve seen her wandering through the sands. Following that lead had led him nowhere. He doesn’t know where she is and it’s driving him insane. She’s like a constant itch in the back of his mind that he just can’t scratch. Days and nights are spent thinking about her and he hates it. 
He’s not sure what he’d do when he does find her. Whether he’d shoot her to repay the favor or just tie her up to keep her from leaving again. He’s conflicted on how he feels about her. He’s bothered that he feels anything towards her at all. And he knows that when she shot him, she was shooting to kill. 
She had no way of knowing that he would heal from that bullet. She’d watched him bleed out on the ground and left him for dead. He was impressed, as much as he wanted to be mad, he was almost proud in a way. 
Throughout their tumultuous lives and times together she’d always had to be guided by him. He’d shown her the ways of whatever world they were living in. She’d relied on him and he enjoyed it. The time had to come when eventually she wouldn’t need him anymore. 
It’s outside of Filly that he finds the most accurate poster of her so far. She looks like she did in their first movie together. A proper outlaw, wanted all across the Wastelands for her crimes against a bunch of sick fucks. If he could kill Sylvie again, he would. He’d kill all of them. 
Not that he’s condemning them because of what the compound’s doing. He’s dabbled in organ trade before, eaten people, he’s done a lot of fucked up shit. But he draws the line at trying to hurt her. He’s the only one who should be allowed to fuck with her.
He takes the poster down and whistles softly at the price under her name. It’s enough to keep him happy for a longtime. If he never wanted to take on another bounty he wouldn’t have to. Course, he was never in this for the money. A man’s gotta have something to entertain himself with at the end of the world. 
He wonders if she’s even still alive. Maybe a Deathclaw got her a day after she left him behind. He could have walked past her corpse and never even known it. He folds the poster up and slips it in his bag. He doesn’t know why he bothers keeping it. Possibly because it’s the closest thing to her that he’s got, but he doesn’t feel like lingering on that thought for long. 
He tugs his hat lower on his head and heads through the tunnel leading to Filly. He’s caused a lot of issues here over the years. Usually he kills most of the people who could identify him as an instigator, but he doesn’t feel like pushing his luck today. He needs more supplies and he knows Ma June won’t sell to him if he causes a fight beforehand. 
It’s louder than normal today, more people rushing around. They’re all congregating around something in the center of the marketplace. He turns to the left, heading up the stairs to try and get a better look at what’s got everyone so excited. 
“They found her!” A boy shouts, fidgeting in his spot next to him. He glances at him from under his hat and the boy pales before scurrying away from him. His lips turn up in a cruel grin and he finally gets a good look at what’s happening. 
She’s kneeling in the middle of the marketplace, two Knights on either side of her. He’s more surprised by the fact that she actually has picked up a hat in her time away from him. 
She seems to be playing into the outlaw routine more than he thought she would. 
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You’re embarrassed, honestly, that you let these two idiots capture you. Them and their useless little squires. 
You’ve found odd jobs through the Brotherhood when they need assistance looking for relics of the old world. Though, you’re really not sure how much use a toaster oven can be to them, but they pay good money for it. 
Once your bounty was posted and they figured out who you were, though, that stopped being useful. You can’t even hunt bounties because the agencies would just grab you and turn you over to the compound.
They clearly didn’t give a shit about women, you don’t get why they’re making this whole Sylvie situation such a big deal. 
You had to bribe Ma June by buying some of her junk, but eventually she’d helped you find some work in Filly. The people here are stupid enough that they don’t recognize you when they see you. Most of them are high or drunk so the only thing you have to worry about is wandering hands and not stepping in the middle of their brawls. 
From the patrons of the bar you hear stories about yourself. How you slaughtered the entire compound, even the children, which is so far from the truth you can’t help but scoff. Or how you apparently slept with a ghoul and you're carrying his mutant baby. 
You don’t even know where they got that one from. 
They also seem to think you wander through the sands, shooting anyone who gets in your way. It’s a comfort that no one seems to have caught onto you yet. But it’s also disheartening to know that all that’s left of civilization is a bunch of psychopathic idiots. 
What happened to natural selection?
You know your stint in Filly is up when two Knights walk in, their squires struggling to carry their bags behind them. You pull your hat further over your head and duck behind the bar. You try to keep your back to them and let the old man, Marley, who runs the bar deal with them. 
His shaky voice is cautious as he greets them, “What are Knights doing so far out here?”
One of their distorted voices rings out through the, now quiet, bar. “We got bored. Wanted to shoot some shit.”
You roll your eyes and focus on cleaning the cup in front of you. You spit into it, not enough water to properly clean it, and scrub at it with a stained towel. Marley hums, clearly displeased with the answer. You can hear his tottering steps approaching you and wince, praying he’s not going to do what you think he is. 
He tugs on your shirt with a shaky hand and you slump forward in defeat. “Deal with these jackasses,” he mutters, taking drinks over to a different table. 
You pour the only alcohol the bar has into two cups and keep your head down as you approach. “Heard that a woman took over for Knight Damien.”
One of them scoffs and shakes his armored head, “What the fuck is this world coming to?” You don’t know how they’re planning on drinking their liquor with the helmets on but you’re not going to ask stupid questions. You drop the cups in front of them, but your hand slips and one of them tips over into a Knight’s lap. 
“I’ve got it, sire.” Their squire lunges forward and begins vigorously scrubbing their armor. Your face curls up in distaste and you’re about to walk away when a metal hand grips your wrist. 
“Holy shit, it’s her!” Oh, you’re so screwed. 
They’ve got a fucking leash on you, it’s humiliating. The scarred and dirt-covered faces of the citizens of Filly surround you. They’re all leering, shouting at you and begging the Knight’s to share in the bounty. But the Knight’s aren’t listening, they’re just congratulating each other. 
“What do you think they’ll give us?”
One of them shoves their squire and he goes toppling into his large bag, feet flailing in the air. “Hopefully better fucking squires. I’m getting sick of this one’s stupid face.” 
The squire kneels down and shouts in a shaking voice, “I’m sorry if I’ve disappointed you, sire!” God, you really hate these people. You wished they would just shoot you. Having to sit here and listen to them talk was making your brain go numb. 
The Knight’s distorted laugh rings out through his helmet. The other one glances over at you, “What do you think she did? I’ve never seen the compound this pissed off.”
“I dunno. Hey!” You know he’s talking to you, that they want an answer, you really don’t care to give them one. “What’d you do?” They stare at you for a moment and then he sighs when you don’t respond. He shoves his squire towards you and the kid goes stumbling over his feet. “Make her talk.”
He nods rapidly, head bobbing up and down. “Of course, sire.” Your hands twitch to your side and you give him a wicked grin as he approaches. 
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He’s debating going down there and trying to help her when the first shot goes off. He doesn’t even see it happen, he just watches as one of the squires drops to the ground. 
Those who don’t want to get caught in the crossfire are quick to move away from the area, hiding in their shops or shoving past him to get through the tunnel. He heads down the stairs, taking his time and trying to figure out where the shot came from. 
The second squire moves towards her and his head flies back, a hole between his eyes and his brains splattering across the ground. One Knight shoves the other one and points at their dead squire’s, “Did you not take her fucking gun?”
He’s been in those suits. He remembers how it felt, the power you get from being in them. How they make you feel like a big man. He also remembers how fucking slow they could be. She’s on her feet and running for cover before they can even start to grab her. 
She dives behind a stall and tugs a knife out of her boot, sawing at the ropes around her wrists. He can’t reach her before the fighting starts. Someone in the remaining crowd shouts, “Grab her! Get the bounty!” And all hell breaks loose. 
Someone runs at him and he shoots them before they can grab him. Shots start going off, the Knight’s mowing down anyone who tries to swoop in on their bounty. Everyone else is shooting blindly, just trying to get rid of the competition so they can claim her bounty as their own. 
He ducks under the hail fire and slides next to her as she’s reloading her gun. She glances over at him and frowns, “Didn’t I kill you?”
He hears a shout and watches as some half-feral woman charges at them. She shoots her dead and turns back to him. He gives her a wry smile, “You want to do this now, sweetheart?”
She peers over her cover and surveys the chaos going on around them. She sighs and glances back at him, “Why aren’t you dead?” 
He tugs one of his specially made bullets out of his bag and loads it into his gun. He lifts himself to his knees and aims at the weak spot on the Knight’s chest plate. They both watch as blood explodes out of the neck of the power armor, the Knight’s friend cussing as he watches him die. 
“Next time,” she turns to look at him, “aim for the head,” he instructs. She glares at him before making her way to Ma June’s shop. He follows, not willing to let her out of his sight again, and she ducks behind the barrels of supplies in front of the shop. 
“Clearly,” she winces as the Knight’s gun starts firing off again, “I’m not making it out of here on my own.” They dive to the side as bullets rip through the barrels they’re leaning against. They’re not gonna have cover for much longer.
He grins at her, “Sounds like you’re asking me for a favor, darling.”
The sounds of screams and bodies dropping is nearly deafening. A few feet away a bullet catches a man in the throat and he drops to the ground. They watch as he chokes on his blood and tries to claw his way to safety. Steps rapidly approach them and she turns to shoot a different man, his body dropping an inch away from them. 
He turns back to her and his lips turn down, “After you tried to kill me? You want my help,” he laughs at her and she glares. 
Before she can speak a voice rings out above them, “I got her!” He shoots at the woman on the upper level above them, half of her leg gets blown off and she tumbles over the railing, narrowly missing the pair. 
He turns back to her, “You’re asking a lot, darling.”
“You’ve fucking shot me, twice. I’m not asking you for anything.” Her lips turn down in a sneer and she looks at him like the very sight of him disgusts her. “I don't need your help. I don't need you.” She glances back over her shoulder, surveying the gore and the bullets flying around them. She checks her gun and he sees just how little ammo she has left. “I’ll handle this myself.” She snaps the chamber of her gun closed and moves to get up. He grabs her wrist and yanks her back down, ignoring the angry expression on her face. 
“Look, you might not want my help, but you need it, sweetheart. Just stay here.” 
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You watch as Cooper runs off, his guns firing before he’s even fully standing. You only wait a second before you’re running into Ma June’s and out her back door. She shouts at you as you barrel through her shop, knocking over her displays and shelves, but you can’t waste any time getting the hell out of dodge. 
You’re surprised Cooper was stupid enough to think you would actually wait for him. The Knight’s had called for an air evac out of Filly and if you stay there any longer you’ll be back in the compound before you can blink. 
You’ve spent a month evading them, you’re not about to let yourself get caught because of Cooper. 
You can’t believe he’s not dead. It’s not like you’ve been losing sleep over killing him, but it’s been hard to cope with the fact that you killed the man that was once the love of your life. Seeing him again, though, you wished you had shot him in his smug face. 
You’d forgotten, in the time apart, just how condescending he could be. He seemed to think you needed him to survive. You didn’t. 
At best, he provided the comfort of company. Poorly. 
Despite how much he undervalued you, you were perfectly capable of taking care of yourself. You didn’t need him to save you. You would have figured your way out of there on your own, eventually. You’ve handled yourself a month in the Wastelands without him. You learned how to carve an existence for yourself out here and you did it without help. 
You race into the woods beyond Filly, putting as much distance between you and the sounds of fighting as quickly as you can. The trees around you begin to shake, the ground vibrating and a swirl of dirt and leaves rises into the air and whips you in the face. 
You look up and begin pushing yourself faster. One of the Brotherhood’s Vertibird’s is circling Filly. “This is not a hostile landing! Please remain calm!” You blame your distraction on the announcement. 
You would have heard him coming up behind you if you hadn’t been listening to whatever the Brotherhood was saying. Rope loops around your arms and you’re yanked backwards. Your head thumps painfully hard against the forest floor, rocks scraping you as you’re dragged across the ground. 
Cooper’s face appears over yours, a cruel smile on his lips. “Now, this seems awfully familiar.” He walks around you, boots straddling your waist and grabs you by the front of your shirt, yanking you back to your feet. “I thought I told you to stay put, sweetheart.”
You frown at him, shoving your leg up between his. He groans, doubling over while you shimmy out of the loose rope. “Honestly, after all the shit that’s happened you think I’m gonna listen to anything you say?” You step back from him, brushing the dirt off your clothes as best you can. 
You sigh in frustration when you realize that when the Knight’s had grabbed you, you’d lost your supplies. Cooper looks up at you and scoffs, “Missing something?” You eye his bag on the ground and start to go for it. He pulls the hammer of his gun back and you glance towards him. You’d forgotten what a quick draw he could be.
He’s fully recovered now, eyes narrowed in on you and gun pointed right at your chest. “See, a bullet to the chest might not kill me, but I reckon it’ll do a hell of a lot of damage to you. Why don’t you back up for me, sweetheart?”
You let go of his bag and slowly back away from him. He keeps his gun trained on you and stoops down, throwing his bag back over his shoulder. Your eyes dart to the hat on his head and your lips curl up when you spot the hole you’d put in it. 
Two hundred years and he’s kept that hat nearly pristine, you take no small amount of pride in being the one to ruin it. 
“The Brotherhood will be swarming these woods in a few minutes. They’re not gonna be too happy about one of their Knight’s being dead. Come with me, I can help you out.”
You scoff, “Like I’ll ever trust you again. You’ve shot me, sold me, and left me for dead, Cooper.”
He huffs, eyes narrowing and lips curled in a sardonic grin. You can tell he’s getting pissed off. “The choice is yours,” he tucks his gun back in his holster and turns on his heels. You watch in surprise as he stalks away from you. You had fully expected him to put up more of a fight, it almost hurts that he left so easily again. 
Then you hear the sounds of orders being shouted behind you. Metal creaking and stomping through the underbrush and you realize he hadn’t left but forced you between a rock and a hard place. You could follow him or let yourself get captured by the Brotherhood. 
“Fuck,” you mutter under your breath. You risk a glance over your shoulder and spot a rapidly approaching party of squires. You run in the direction Cooper went and find him leaning casually against a tree, a satisfied look on his face when he spots you. “Don’t say a word,” you warn, shoving past him. 
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He glances at her from across the fire and finds himself feeling almost at ease for the first time in a month. It’s been a while since he’s looked up to actually find her staring back at him. She might look like she wants to kill him, but she’s here. 
“You have to admit, we make a pretty good team, darling.”
She gives him an unimpressed look, “Yeah, Cooper, we’re so great at murdering people.” She looks over to the dead bodies of the raiders they’d stolen this camp from and shakes her head. “I forgot how much death you surround yourself with.”
“I surround myself with? Might I remind you, you fired the first shot, sweetheart.” Granted, he had shoved her out of her hiding spot and given her no choice about it. 
Her head shoots up and she glares at him, “You made me!” She opens her mouth and he grins. He enjoys provoking her like this. Even if the last time he had she’d shot him because of it, but it’s fun to rile her up. She always gets so pissed off, it entertains him to no end. 
To his disappointment, she closes her mouth and shakes her head, choosing not to engage with him. He sighs and rips off a piece of jerky. “When did you turn into such a wet fucking blanket?”
Her eyes flare with anger, despite that, he can hear how hurt she really is. “Maybe when you sold me!”
He tilts his head and runs his tongue over his teeth, “You ever gonna let that go? I told you it was a mistake. How was I supposed to know they were gonna breed you like a prize pig?”
She scoffs, the noise high pitched and shocked. She shakes her head and stares at him with wide eyes, “You are unbelievable.” He shrugs and takes a swig from the flask he’d stolen off one of the raiders. He’s not sure how they make their alcohol, or if they trade for it, but it’s fucking disgusting. He frowns at the flask and drains the rest of it before tossing it into the woods behind him. 
She sighs and runs a hand over her face, her voice tired as she asks, “What’s the plan here, Cooper?” 
He picks at his teeth and shakes his head, “With what?”
She leans against the log behind her and gestures at herself. “With me. What, are you going to wait for me to pass out so you can tie me up and send me back to the compound? I’ve seen the price on my head. I know how valuable I am to everyone in the Wastelands.”
He doesn’t know why what she’s saying bothers him so much but it does. “You really think I’d send you back there?”
Her face is devoid of anything as she responds, “Why wouldn’t you?”
It’s the bluntness with which she asks that, that bugs him. Like there’s no other possibility but him betraying her. Taking advantage of her while she was vulnerable and weak and then handing her over to the people who want her dead. He wouldn’t do that to her. 
He didn’t go through all this fucking trouble to find her just to lose her again. He wants to tell her as much but she’s on her feet and grabbing her bag before he can. “Look, I appreciate the help today, but I’m not interested in starting this partnership back up again. I think it’s better if we just part ways.”
He whips his gun out before he can think about what he’s doing. She freezes, still bent over and eyes his gun warily. “I’m afraid that’s not an option, darling.” He can’t let her leave again. And maybe this isn’t the best way to go about it, but he doesn’t know how else to stop her. 
“You gonna shoot me, Cooper?” She whispers, her own hand twitching for the revolver at her side. He stands up and grabs her wrists, ignoring the way she struggles against him. He binds her hands with his rope and he sits back down, 
“I’m not gonna turn you in and I’m not gonna shoot you. But you’re not getting out of here that easy, sweetheart.”
Her eyes narrow in on his, her fists clenched tightly in anger. “I killed two men with my hands bound today. What’s stopping me from killing you?”
He shrugs, “Nothing. There’s nothing stopping you, just like there’s nothing stopping me. But I’m not killing you, am I? See,” he leans forward, “I’ve fought too hard and spent too much time looking after you to just let you go now. We’re in this together, whether you want it or not.”
Her lips split in a sneer and she throws herself down on the log. “You’re all the fucking same. You treat me like a goddamn dog that needs to be beat into submission. I’m not some misbehaving pet, Cooper!” Her eyes well up and her voice breaks, “You don’t get to just leash me and expect me to be okay with it.”
“I’m under no illusions that you’re happy here, sweetheart.” He runs a hand down his face and she shakes her head in disbelief. 
“Then just let me go,” she’s bordering on begging now and his chest squeezes the longer she stares at him with those pleading eyes of hers. It’s not something he’s familiar with, this feeling, this longing for her to just shut the fuck up and stop making this so damn difficult for him. 
“I can’t,” he mutters, wanting her to just drop it. 
“Why not?” She snaps, dropping any pretenses of trying to get him to sympathize with her.
He surges forward and grabs her by the jaw. Her eyes widen in shock and he smashes their lips together, teeth clashing painfully. There’s nothing gentle or sweet about this kiss. Her teeth are ripping into his scarred lips until the taste of copper is spreading on his tongue. He groans, digging his fingers into her cheeks until her lips part. 
His tongue probes against hers, the taste of his blood spreading into her mouth as well. She whimpers, the noise stirring something in him he’d forgotten about. There’s an old desire bubbling in him that’s making him blind to the rest of the world. He wants her, more than he ever wants to admit. 
He’s wanted her for a long time before this and they both know it. How hard he’s fought against it, against moments like these. He didn’t think he was still capable of this feeling, this desire for her. But it’s consuming. She’s ruining him, running him in circles until he thinks he’s going insane. 
But it’s not the same gentle passion it once was. It’s as twisted as he’s become. The desire to possess, consume, covet until she’s his and only his to do with what he wants. His teeth dig into her, letting her blood overcome the taste of his own. He groans, his free hand grabbing her waist and yanking her closer. 
She tastes so much sweeter than he does, he wants to rip a chunk of her off and eat her whole. He’s so distracted he doesn't even notice her pulling out her gun until he’s shooting back from her. He lands roughly on the forest floor and groans, hands clutched over the bleeding hole in his gut. Pain radiates through his abdomen and he rolls onto his side.
He looks up at her in shock. She’s spitting their blood onto the ground, her bound hands wiping at her lips. “Asshole,” she mutters. She tucks her gun back in her holster and looks over at him. 
His eyes are wide in disbelief as he struggles to sit back up. The movement causes another wave of pain and he hisses through gritted teeth, “You shot me!”
She rolls her eyes and gives him a blank look, “You’ll live.” He limps back to his own seat and lifts his shirt, watching as the hole closes over slowly and the blood stops leaking. She watches as he heals and sighs, “Unfortunately.” He tugs it back down and sighs at the state of his shirt. 
“My shirt won’t.” He digs a finger into the hole and tugs on it, watching as it rips wider. Two hundred years he’s kept these clothes, she ruins them in a month. Un-fucking-believable. 
“Sew it,” she gripes, still wiping at her mouth. “I can’t believe you just fucking kissed me,” she frowns and spits again, bits of crimson lingering on her lips. 
He sighs and leans back against the tree. “Felt right in the moment.” It did, he wants to do it again. They’re even now, they’ve both shot each other twice. No reason for her to shoot again. 
He wants to feel the way she shivers against him and moans into his mouth. She can be pissed all she wants but she kissed back, she can’t deny that. He’s sure if she wasn’t tied up she’d be a bit more receptive to him. Or maybe she just needs time to cool off after the whole compound incident, a month seems like a reasonable amount of time. Then again, women are so damn unreasonable. 
She tugs a knife out of her boot and positions it between her knees. She places it between her wrists and saws at the rope until it falls free. She slides the knife back in her boot and tosses the ruined rope at him. 
He catches it with a sigh and glances up at her. “Why didn’t you do that earlier?”
Her eyes are alight with a challenge, “I wanted to see if you would let me go yourself.” Well, clearly, he had failed her little test. “I wanted to see if there was even a possibility I could ever trust you again.”
He gives her an unimpressed look, slightly pissed off about his shirt. He never should have taught her how to shoot. If he’d known it would come back to bite him in the ass he wouldn’t have. “And?”
She gives him a disbelieving look and shakes her head. “And instead of letting me go, you kissed me.“ She throws her hands up in astonishment and glares at him. “Why the hell would you think that was a good idea?”
He smirks and revels in the way she shivers at the sight. “Well, darling, I’ve always been better with actions not words.”
“Yeah,” her voice is a challenge, eyes hard and jaw clenched tightly in frustration. He loves the sight of her all riled up. He loves it even more knowing he’s the one getting her like this. “What were you trying to tell me with that little display?”
He doesn’t answer her question, not wanting to just yet. “You liked it, didn’t you?” Her mouth snaps shut and she looks away from him. He laughs, leaning back and giving her a smug look. “You can be pissed off at me as much as you want, sweetheart,” the nickname rolls off his tongue like a taunt and she sneers at him. “But you want me just the same as you used to.”
“Do you like hurting me? Is that why you keep me around? You’ve been alone for two hundred years, Cooper. And for the majority of them you’ve harbored this hatred for me because you thought I had abandoned you just like everyone else.” 
Her words strike a place deep inside him that has him on edge. She knows what she’s doing. He’s forgotten, in his time with her, that in the same way he can get under her skin, she can do it too. She knows him just as well, she’s just always been the better half of their duo. She never feels the need to stoop to the level he does. But she’s doing it now and it feels like a kick in the teeth. 
“And I’m the only one that’s actually stuck by you.” She laughs, but there’s an underlying pain to it. She looks away from him and wipes at her cheeks and his fists clench within his gloves. “Is this your revenge? You think by torturing me you get back at everyone whose ever fucked you over. I’m sick of it, Cooper. I’m not gonna let you use me anymore.”
“I feel for you,” he forces the words out. He doesn’t want to tell her this. He shouldn’t have to tell her this. She should just stick with him, it’s what they’d always done, it’s how it always should be. Them, together. But she’s fighting against that, against him, so much that he doesn’t have a choice. 
She’s backed him into a corner he doesn’t know how to get out of. “In a way I haven’t in a very long time. I can’t let you go. Don’t you get that, sweetheart? We’re in this together.”
She shakes her head and he sighs. “No,” she looks at him and just shakes her head again. “No, you don’t love me, Cooper, or you don’t want me at least. I’m not the same girl I was, that’s what you’re after. That idea in your head, of us together, that’s who I was. You were right, the Wastelands changes you. I can’t be her for you and I don’t want to be.”
He chuckles and she shrinks away from the sound in suspicion. “Newsflash, darling, I’m not the same man. I loved you a long time ago, sweetheart, but I’m not capable of that anymore. Not for the girl you were, anyway.”
She nodded, her arms wrapped around herself. She looked like she accepted the answer, but he could see beyond that, could see that she thought he was rejecting her. It hurt, she could hate him as much as she wanted, but that still hurt her. “Good,” she muttered, “she’s gone.”
“Well, good.” She shrank further into herself and he grinned.  “You. You as you are now. That’s what I want. I don’t give a shit about who we were, the only person I’ve wanted since I’ve been out here has been you. You’re the only person I’ve met who can actually keep up with me. I don’t give a shit if anyone in this godforsaken Wasteland lives or dies, but I give a shit about you. You’re also the only one who can knock me on my ass.”
Her eyes darted to the hole in his shirt and a small grin came over her lips. “Haven’t been shot a lot, have you, cowboy?”
“No,” he chuckles again and grins at her, “I haven’t. Though, I am still pretty pissed about the hole in my hat.”
Her tone loses a bit of her playfulness and she glares at him, “You more than earned that.”
He acquiesces and holds up his hands in surrender, “Maybe.” She scoffs at that and rolls her eyes. “But I think we’re even now.”
“Barely,” she mutters, rubbing at the bruises on her wrists. She glances up at him and sighs, a surrender in her eyes. “But, it’s close enough now.”
He stands up and she eyes him warily as he throws himself down on the log next to her. He holds out a hand, “What do you say, darling, partners?”
She sighs and stares at his hand for a long time. He doesn’t mind, he leaves it there, hovering between them. He knows she’ll take it. “Deny it as much as you want but this is how it’s meant to be. You can keep fighting it or save us both some time.”
She reaches forward and tentatively wraps a hand around his, she uses it to yank him forward, their faces separated by an inch. “Shoot me again,” she whispers, “and I won’t miss the next time I knock you on your ass.”
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“Oh shit,” you jump at the kickback on the rifle and nearly drop it to the ground. Cooper laughs and reaches around you, taking it from you. 
“Maybe I should have started you off with something with a little less kick to it.” He props the rifle against the tree and glances over to the cans you’d been shooting at. Well, you’d gotten one out of five at least. 
In all fairness this was the first time you’d ever handled a gun, you’re sure you’re doing fine for a beginner. He sucks on his teeth and looks at your targets. The serious look on his face cracks and he’s clearly trying to fight off laughing. 
You shove at his shoulder, smiling, “Shut up. I’ve never used one of these things before.”
He picks the rifle back up and starts laughing now, “You mean a gun?” 
You throw your arms in the air in defeat and slump into the patio chairs he’s dragged to the back of the cabin. “This is pointless, anyway.” He cocks the rifle and lifts it up to aim properly. In quick succession he knocks the remaining four cans off the fence. You roll your eyes at him, “Show off.”
He smiles and takes a seat next to you. You remain silent for a while, gazing across the yard and to the towering mountains across from his cabin. You appreciate him inviting you here. When you’d told him how overwhelmed you’d been feeling with all the new publicity you hadn’t expected him to drag you all the way out to his mountain home. 
You wouldn’t have accepted if you’d known it was just going to be you and him. You’d thought he was bringing his wife and kid, too. Spending a long weekend playing house with Cooper wasn’t going to do anything in getting rid of your crush. It was just getting worse the longer you were around him.
Waking up everyday and having him be the first person to greet you was going to send you into an early grave. You swear your heart’s never beat this fast around anyone else. He seems to be the only man who's ever had you feeling this head over heels. 
“I think it’s important you learn.”
You glance over at him, surprised at how serious he sounds. He’s still staring out at the mountains, but his gaze is distant. His mind is some place else. “Why?” You ask, voice quiet, afraid to spoil the moment.
He finally blinks, gaze darting down to his hands and the rifle still in them. “It’s easy for people to dismiss the war nowadays. They weren’t there, they didn’t watch as hundreds of good men and women died for them.” You frown, sometimes it’s easy to forget that he’d been fighting on the frontlines. He’s so good at being a socialite, you feel guilty that even you sometimes forget he was a soldier before he was Cooper Howard. 
His voice is heavy, the tension thick around the both of you. “They seem to think the war is over. I know it’s not, it’s just going to get worse. People can bury their heads in the sand as long as they want, but when the fighting is at their front door, what are they going to do?”
You reach out, hand covering his own. He finally looks up at you and you smile. “I appreciate it, Cooper.”
His eyes quickly look at your hand before looking back at you. “For what?”
You shrug, moving closer to him and lacing your fingers with his. You shouldn’t indulge yourself like this, but you can’t help it. He seems so sad and you only want to make him feel better. You just want to take care of him, the way he takes care of you. 
“For always looking out for me. You’re always there, I appreciate it. I appreciate you.”
The sad cast over his face finally breaks and he smiles at you. His hand squeezes yours once, then again and he looks back out at the mountains without saying anything else. You don’t think he needs to, that either of you needs to. Sometimes you understand each other better without words. 
You’ll always be there for one another.
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You eye him warily and he holds the jerky out further. “Aren’t you a little curious?” He taunts, waving the jerky around in front of your face. You know he thinks you won’t take it. That he’s just screwing with you. He’s been doing this ever since you agreed to tag along with him. Teasing you at every given opportunity. 
You snatch it from his hands and rip a piece of it off. It kind of tastes like beef, if not a little sweeter. There’s also that metallic radiated tang to it. You chew it slowly, savoring the slightly caught off guard look on his face. You swallow it down, forcing your face to stay straight and not give away how disgusted you feel right now. 
He chuckles, leaning back and looking at you with something that seems like appreciation. “I hope you know that was ass jerky.”
You gag now, glaring at him and tossing the rest of the jerky at his smug face. “You’re such a dick.” You take a swig from your canteen and swirl the water around your mouth. It gets rid of the taste well enough but you’re never going to get over the fact that you swallowed a part of someone’s ass. 
He suddenly gets serious, swatting at your arm and motioning to the front of the store. You crouch beside him, watching as a raider walks out of the front doors. You don’t get why they chose an old movie store for their hideout, but Cooper had it on good authority that they had a decent cache of supplies inside. 
The last time you’d followed him into one of these things, you’d nearly died, and then he’d sold you. You’re still not fully trusting of him. The only reason you’re with him now is because you need extra security from bounty hunters after getting booted out of Filly. 
If he wasn’t such a good shot, you would have never given him a second glance. Despite how much he insists the compound was an honest mistake, you find the trust slow to come. You’ll let him take the lead on this one, you’re not confident in him having your back if things take a turn. 
He moves forward and you hang back, keeping watch while he slits the guard’s throat. He lowers the body quietly to the ground and you creep behind him, following him through the doors of the store. 
This group is smaller than the last one you dealt with. Only five of them with no extra guards outside. Cooper ducks behind a dust covered shelf before they can spot either of you. You go to the other side of the store, moving slowly along the edge until you have a good shot. 
You take out one man and Cooper manages to hit two more before they start firing off their own guns. You dart back behind the shelf, willing to let Cooper handle the last two. But one of them dives behind the shelf and grabs at you. 
Another shot goes off and his friend’s body hits the ground while he rounds the corner with you. He’s got an arm wrapped around your throat and the barrel of his gun pushing so hard into your skull you can feel an indent forming. 
It wouldn’t be hard to shoot this guy, you still have your gun in your hand. Cooper seems to realize that, too, from the questioning look he gives you. You drop your gun to the floor, you want to see what he’ll do. 
Maybe you’re stupid, gambling with your life like this. But you don’t feel any fear, not from the guy holding you hostage at least. You just keep your eyes locked on Cooper’s. They’re so familiar to you, yet so distant. Like a stranger you’ve known all your life. 
He slowly rises from the floor, hands raised in the air in surrender. “Alright, let’s just see if we can’t talk this out like gentlemen.”
The guy holding you jerks you roughly, gun banging painfully against your temple. You wince but remain quiet. “Stay back or I’ll blow her goddamn brains out!”
Cooper’s eyes dart from your face to the guy. He huffs, frowning and pursing his lips like he’s trying to think of a way to talk himself out of this. He could leave, he’s got enough time to make it through the door before he fires at him. 
Or he could help you. 
It’s the only reason you let yourself get caught. If he wants your trust he’s going to have to prove it. Cooper looks at you and a grin splits across his face. It’s like he’s read your mind, from the knowing look on his face you think he might’ve. 
Then again, you never really needed words to talk to each other. 
With a speed that never fails to catch you off guard his hand darts under his jacket and he draws his gun. He’s shooting the man before you even get a chance to brace yourself. Your body gets dragged back slightly by the dead weight but Cooper moves forward and wraps a hand around your shirt, tugging you into him. 
Your hands shoot out, bracing yourself against his chest. He peers at you from under his hat and grins, “You didn’t really think I was gonna let you go that easy did you, darling?” Your eyes dart down to his lips, you feel like you can still taste him. 
The timing of his kiss might not have been appropriate, but he certainly hadn’t made it forgettable. Nothing about him was forgettable. As much as you wished he could be. You hated yourself for still letting yourself fall into his trap. 
Hollywood might have once labeled you as the most seductive actress of your generation, but Cooper had you beat. He kept you coming back even when you knew you shouldn’t. He had you wrapped around him and all you wanted to do was squeeze until he let you go. 
You push off of him, ignoring how much you want to pull him closer. You move towards their pile of supplies, “Let’s see what we’ve got.”
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There are a few different posters set up in the old movie store that intrigue him. But the one that’s caught his attention the most is set up directly behind her. Her back is to it, so she hasn’t gotten a chance to see it yet, but it’s all he can focus on. 
The Outlaw and The Sheriff
Their first movie together. 
He looks at her and huffs out a laugh, she glances up at him for a moment before she begins rifling through her bag again. She looks like she walked right off the fucking poster, hat and all. She’s the spitting image of herself, but she seems so different. 
Maybe it’s the eyes. The light there has changed, dimmed slightly from how it used to be. She used to seem so naive to the world, like a little lamb that just needed some guidance. Now, he wonders just how much of the world she’d seen before he found her. If maybe she had never been as innocent to it’s cruelties as he’d once assumed. 
She stepped into this new role of hers just as quickly as he had. You didn’t just change that quickly without knowing already just how awful people could be. 
“Sweetheart,” she looks up and he points behind her. She turns around and looks up to the poster.
She scoffs, moving to stand beside him, “I always hated how I looked in that.”
He glances over at her and shakes his head, “Probably shouldn’t show you a mirror anytime soon, then.” Her hands reach up to fiddle with the brim of her hat and she smiles, a real smile for once. 
“No, I suppose not.” Her hands trace over her lips, he glances back at the poster. At that old signature of hers. She always had to have those red lips. “It’s so different,” she whispers and he knows she didn’t mean for him to hear. Her eyes glisten and he frowns. 
He shouldn’t have shown her. It’s not like he enjoyed seeing those fucking Vault-Boy posters, he sure as hell hated seeing clips of himself. Why would she enjoy seeing who she used to be? Who they used to be?
Things used to be so simple. He loved her, she loved him. Now he’d fucked up so much he wasn’t sure she could ever look at him the way she used to. He didn’t want who she was before, he couldn’t handle that. This new her, well, he didn’t give her near enough credit. 
But he wouldn’t hate seeing someone look at him like that again. Endless adoration and unflinching loyalty. He knew he would follow her anywhere, he’d realized that a while ago. He didn’t have anything in the Wastelands, nothing but hate and spite to keep him going all this time.
Now, he had her. He just needed her to realize that she had him just the same. She had him wrapped around her and he hated it and loved it at the same time. Hated her and loved her for it all the same. 
He tugs his glove off before he reaches for her. He cups her cheek, thumb tracing over her lips before she turns towards him. His eyes meet hers and he smiles slightly at the familiarity and mystery to them. So much of her he recognizes and then there are these new parts he’s yet to discover. 
He wants to discover all of her. Learn everything he can about her all over again, feed his desire to consume her entirely. 
She pulls him in this time, her lips chapped and cracked. Her arms wind around his neck, yanking him closer and he tugs at her. She tastes as sweet as he remembers and it only makes him crave more. More of her, more of anything she’ll let him have. 
She pulls back from him, pressing her hand against his chest, slowly backing him against the wall. He lets her ease him to the floor and she throws a leg over his lap. She settles herself above him, both her hands tightly grasping his neck, crushing their bodies together, eyes gazing intently into his own. He doesn’t know what she’s looking for in him but she seems to find it when she leans in once more. 
She isn’t giving him a chance at control, she’s got a leash on him, pulling back anytime he tries to lead. He relents, following her as she slowly explores him. 
He’s not sure how long this peace between them will last before one of them inevitably fucks up. But they’re stuck together now. It doesn’t matter what happens, he’s not letting her get away from him again. 
She’s his, always has been, always will be. It’s been that way since before the fallout. He’s led her, guided her.
He had loved her as a different man. History always seems to repeat itself with them. As twisted as the world is, as twisted as they’ve become, they always seem to drift back together. No matter how much the both of them fight against it. 
He’s giving in now, giving into her. 
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end. — I do not own the characters or the game/show Fallout, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
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juleswritesstuff · 3 days
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Am I the only one who thinks most of the Marauders and the Slytherin Skittles would have the biggest praise kink in history ?
warnings: smut
Just a little thought I had today. Let me know if you want a part two with the reader and the boys' roles reversed, I'll be more than happy to comply 😉
Enjoy💗
James would have one because of his constant need to be perfect, to be what he thinks the others need him to be: the perfect son, the perfect friend, the perfect student. But he always has doubts ‘am I enough ?’, ‘am I doing enough ?', ‘will they like me ’, ‘what if they don’t ? what if they hate me ?’ He needs to be reassured that he is. He is enough, he is more than enough. 
I feel like it would be more prominent while he is intimate with you. He is mostly afraid of not living up to the expectation he thinks you have of him. So you make sure he knows that he makes you literally touch the sky.
‘That was the best match i’ve ever watched ! Merlin, you were brilliant on that broom James’ after Gryffindor wins the last match of the year.
‘What do you mean ‘stupid’ ? They’re your glasses baby, they help you see. And you look really hot wearing them in my opinion’ after he overhears someone talking about another person and saying they look stupid with that specific pair of glasses.
‘Like that, baby. You’re doing so good’ while he is covering your neck with kisses and gentle bites.
‘Yes, yes, fuck, right there Jamie’ after a particularly deep and strong thrust leaves you breathless.
‘You look so good between my legs, love’ while he is eating you out messily and hungrily and so, so perfectly.
‘No one feels as good as you. No one could ever make me feel the way you do, James’ while he is still inside of you, catching his breath and looking at you with devotion.
‘Are you sure it was ok ?’
‘James, it was more than ok. My legs are shaking baby, that's a sign that it was pretty damn amazing’
‘Are you serious ?’
‘Apart from the very lame joke I am sure you’re thinking about, yes, I am. Actually, why don’t I show you how serious I really am ?’
‘What do you mean, baby?’
‘I mean that you’re gonna fuck me again and i’ll show you how much I always crave your lips, then a third time and i’ll make sure the entire castle hears how you can make me cry with just your tongue, then a fourth because that perfect dick of yours needs to be fucking worshipped, and, finally, a fifth to show you that you fuck me so good that not a single coherent thought processes in my head when you're taking me apart on your cock, Jamie’ 
Remus would have one because he has hated himself his whole life. He feels like a monster, like he doesn’t deserve all the love he is surrounded by, like all the good things people say about him are just lies. And he knows the truth, he knows he is nothing but an horrid creature and that he doesn’t deserve to be loved. Except that it isn’t the truth, and you tell him everyday.
With him I feel like it would be more out of the bedroom, and outside of sex, but not exclusively.
‘You’re really good at that spell Remus, mind showing me how it’s done ?’ after he gets a rather difficult charm right at the first try.
‘You look very hot today, Rem. Well, you look hot everyday actually’ which makes him blush from head to toes.
‘You’re the best, you know ? You really are’ after he explains a difficult concept that nobody else got, but him.
‘Holy hell, right there Remus. You feel way too good’ while he eases in and out of you with a steady rhythm, knocking the air out of your lungs.
‘You take such good care of me’ while he is going down on you, slowly, sensually and with a glint of hunger in his eyes, knowing exactly what to do to make you fall apart.
‘I love you, you know that right ?’
‘Yes, darling. You tell me everyday’ 
‘Well, that’s not enough. From now on, I'll tell you twice a day’
‘But why ?’
‘Because it’s true' and then you give him the sweetest kiss.
Sirius would have one because he has been told his whole life that he wasn’t enough. That he needed to be better, to do better, to be a better heir for the Noble House of Black, to be a better son, to be a better brother. He was told that he was worthless, that his parents had no use in having a son like him. He was a disappointment, a shame to the family. For them he didn’t exist anymore.
But for you he was the most perfect person to ever walk on earth. Your brightest star.
He would love it both inside and outside the bedroom. I feel like he would also ask you to tell him something that makes him feel good, especially when he is having a bad day. He has no problem being praised in public, but he becomes especially vulnerable when you’re intimate because he can finally let go.
‘Tell me what did I do to have the best boyfriend ever ?’ After he brings you flowers one day because he told you they reminded them of you.
‘It’s ok Sirius, you’ll get it eventually. You’re one of the best students, you just need a bit more time which is totally fine’ after the tenth time he tries to get one of the most difficult spells right, only for it to go wrong.
‘You’re worth it Sirius. You’re worth every single good thing that happens to you, never doubt that’ after he breaks down reading one of his mothers older letters, full of foul words directed at him.
‘You’re such a good boy, aren’t you ?’ after he listens to you so well, kissing every inch of your body.
‘Fuck, you should see yourself baby. You look so good, so perfect for me’ while you’re on his lap, riding him slowly to savor that sultry fucked out expression on his face that makes you go feral.
‘You’re so sweet, Sirius, do you know that ? So fucking sweet’ after you bob your head on his length, swirling your tongue around his head to suck gently as his taste coats your mouth.
‘Was I good ?’
‘You’re always good, Sirius. More than’
‘Are you sure ?’
‘Do you want me to describe in detail how good you are at splitting me open in every position known to man ? Because I can do that if you want. Might take three whole days though, a week if you want me to talk about that sinful tongue of yours, too’
‘I think we have enough time’ and then you both start laughing.
Regulus would have one because he’s been second his whole life. Second for his brother, second for his parents before Sirius left , sometimes he feels second even for his friends. He thinks no one cares deeply about him, he’s just there as a rebound. He’s never been anyone’s first choice, and he thinks he never will be.
You make sure he knows that not only he would be your first choice in every lifetime, but that he would also be the only choice for you, no one else would or could ever compare. He is the center of your universe after all.
I feel like he would blush like crazy and pretend he is annoyed by your words when you’re in public and you praise him even for the simplest thing, but his eyes would also warm up a little, just for a second, before going back to his blank and rather stoic expression. He would be a mess in the bedroom though, when he can finally let go and he allows himself to feel good about the sweet words that leave your lips.
‘You have the prettiest eyes I have ever seen’ after he catches you staring at him for a moment too long.
‘Your poems are literally art, Regulus. I can’t believe you can write like this, you know this is pure talent, right ?’ after he shows you his poems for the first time and you nearly cry because more than half of them are dedicated to you.
‘You were so good up there, Reggie. And the way you caught the Snitch ? Fucking incredible. You are incredible’ after Slytherin wins one of the biggest matches of the season thanks to Regulus catching the Snitch one minute from the end.
‘You feel so good, love. Stretching me out so well’ after his cock slides inside of you perfectly, filling you up so nicely.
‘Eyes on me, Regulus. They’re so gorgeous, I want them focused me while I make you cum, ok ? Be good and keep them open’ as you stroke his length up and down, feeling the velvety soft skin on your palm as you give his head a gentle suck, tasting him on your tongue.
‘You’re so pretty when you’re all fucked out, Reggie. You feel so good taking me like this’ while you’re riding him and he looks at you with hazy eyes, lust and pure bliss fogging his brain’
‘I’m yours Regulus. I’m undoubtedly, irrevocably and utterly yours’
‘Promise me’
‘I promise, I’m not going anywhere. I’m afraid you’re stuck with me forever, actually’
‘Mmh, it’s gonna be hard, but I’ll survive I guess’ while you’re still joined, one body and one soul as you kiss him slowly and sweetly, his tone sarcastic but betrayed by the smile that's progressively growing on his lips.
Barty would have one because his father never gave him his attention. He was never enough for him, never a good son, never a good student, never good. He was constantly ignored, and the few times his father acknowledged him was to tell him that he was a lost cause, a disgrace, a shame. He was just a stupid boy, too reckless, too careless, too unhinged, too much, and, at the same time, never enough. But it wasn’t like that. He was a bit impulsive, and sometimes he went a little bonkers, but he was a good person, and there were people who cared about him and his well being. You always made sure he knew that. He was your priority.
I have a feeling that he would be completely unashamed of being praised in public exactly like he is praised in the bedroom. Probably not in front of the whole school, but he wouldn't really care if people eavesdropped, his crooked grin widening when he notices their horrified faces. It is  their fault, they could mind their own damn business.
‘Yes, Barty, you’ve been a good boy’ after he asks you if he has been good after getting an O in Potions.
‘Baby, we’re in public, I can’t just scream about how good you fuck me. There are people eating, for Merlin’s sake’ after he sees a guy talking to you before sitting at the table in the Great Hall. He asks you if you could tell him that he is the only one who could make you come with just his skilled fingers.
‘Don’t think like that ever again, Barty. You are not a lost cause, you aren't. You deserve good things, you deserve the best things, sweetie. You deserve to be loved, and I do. I love you so much Barty, don’t ever think you are not important to me because you are. You mean the world to me’ after he receives a letter from his father asking how a cretin like him was able to find someone who could love him. If he hadn’t begged you to stop after calming down a little you would’ve been in Azkaban with a murder charge by now.
‘Fuck, I love when you do that. Feels amazing, baby’ after he trails a path of kisses down your chest only to focus on the tender flesh of your nipple as he sucks gently, and grazes it with his teeth, teasing you.
‘Harder, baby. I know you like it like this’ while his thrusts become more erratic, stronger and deeper and you can hardly think.
‘You’re cock is perfect, Barty. Fills my mouth so nicely’ while you’re sucking him off, his tip hits your throat and you swallow as the loudest moan leaves his mouth.
‘I told Mulciber that no one can make you scream as loud as I do’
‘You did what ?! Barty !’
‘What ? Is it not true ?’
‘I- of course it’s true, but why did you have to tell him ?’
‘He was being rather cocky about the fact that he could make you scream like, and I quote ‘a bitch’. Then he started using other very disrespectful words to describe you baby, and at that point I had to punch him right in the face, because no one has to even dare to talk about you like that. He is actually lucky my Sectumsempra is not perfect yet, or he would’ve ended way worse. And then I added that little detail. I probably shouldn’t have done it, but I was furious. Do you want me to obliviate him ? I can do that if you want’
‘It’s fine, he needs some salt rubbed on his wounds’
‘Are you sure ?’
‘Yes, baby. And it’s nothing new, I'm sure the entire dorm hears me when you’re fucking me, I can't help it. Now come on my knight in bloody knuckles, let’s go to Madame Pomfrey to get those bruises checked’ you kiss him lightly before heading to the infirmary.
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fayes-fics · 16 hours
Text
Breathe (In The Air)
Pariring: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, 1970s AU
Summary: A night camping out under the stars
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Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, recreational drug use (cannabis), body hair used in foreplay, vaginal fingering, blow job, woman on top, unprotected vaginal sex.
Word Count: 2.6k
Authors Note: Request fill for Anon (HERE) asking for a sequel to 1970s hippie Benedict, travelling around in his VW bus selling his artwork at music festivals. Sorry for the gif; there was nothing else that remotely fit. The original story is HERE. The title is a Pink Floyd song. Thanks as always to @colettebronte for the beta. I hope you enjoy Nonny. I do enjoy this AU ngl. <3
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“What do you want from life?” 
You loll your head to the side to observe his handsome profile as he stares towards the dome of vibrant stars above.
“I have no idea,” you confess, turning to look skywards again, moonlight glowing through the swirl of smoke you exhale, your fingers toying with the tassels of the soft cotton blanket you both lay upon.
“I want adventure…” he declares, rubbing a hand over his bare midriff absentmindedly.
“Hmmm, that sounds wonderful,” you admit, handing him back the joint, that languid feeling enrobing your mind as the THC kicks in.
It's a temperate summer night, and you are lying together naked, tinny strains of music from a portable radio as you camp in a wildflower meadow en route to the next festival. After a series of magical nights with Ben in his VW bus at the last one, you couldn't resist when he offered for you to continue the journey onwards together. 
He takes a deep drag, the tip glowing like the campfire you are lying in front of, before placing it aside into a metal ashtray and rolling over so he hovers above you, warm skin upon yours.
“I am glad you are on this adventure with me,” he remarks with a lopsided grin, the captivating beauty of his face dancing in the firelight.
“Same.” you concur, reaching to touch the daisy chain buried in his halo of riotous curls, somehow the blooms looking more vibrant in the serene state you are slipping into.
His hand slides languorously down your body from your throat to your lower belly, mapping your fire-warmed skin before lacing his fingers into the downy hair at the apex of your thighs, stirring that nascent buzz between your legs.
“I think this beautiful garden needs some flowers,” he opines silkily, his fingers circling in the strands there, petting gently as his brow twitches into a tempting arch.
He leans over you and plucks a few forget-me-nots from the tall grass, carefully separating each bloom on your stomach. Then, delicately, he weaves each tiny flower into your small thatch of hair, a mild tickle as the stems brush over your skin, making you giggle quietly. He smiles softly, your eyes meeting, then both tracking down the plane of your body as he continues to work quietly, humming gently along to the music.
“There… perfect,” he pronounces proudly; a few moments later, 
It does indeed look pretty: bright blue tiny flowers that contrast strikingly with your hair and skin. 
“Even in this, you are an artist,” you quip blithely.
He smiles demurely through his lashes, shuffling lower and resting his head upon your diaphragm, his fingers tracing soothing patterns around your belly button, his breath puffing warm over your flesh. Allowing the jangle of electric guitar from the radio to fill your bones, your fingers run idly through his luscious locks as your mind floats like cotton in a breeze. The moment seems fleeting but everlasting all at once, profound but insignificant, being so small under the twinkling constellations above. It all coalesces into a sharp need to feel rooted in your body. So you draw your knees up and allow your legs to fall open—a blatant invitation. The apple of his cheek presses into your belly as he smirks knowingly without looking up at you, sensing your need without you needing to voice it, so in tune with your body and desires since the night you met.
“Every beautiful garden should have a sacred fountain…” he rumbles, fingertips spidering down again over the floral weave to tease your splayed inner thigh before sliding casually lower, parting your folds, exhaling roughly at the wet warmth he finds there.
You moan; the mellow cloud you float upon heightens the sensation rippling through your being as his fingers circle your clit, his warm lips suckling gently on your stomach as you writhe under his touch. His name is a sigh upon your lips, his movements unhurried but the perfect amount of pressure. He huffs sonorous praises into your belly as he forms a tighter circle over your swollen bud, moving faster now, your hands flying to the blanket, scrunching in your fists as your head rolls to one side, wanting to bite down upon something, the pleasure coursing through you amplified by your high. 
Whimpering as he slides his fingers lower, two breaching your body, desire thick and viscous dripping upon him as he pushes further in your pussy. The sensation of his knuckles dragging over your walls makes you gasp and call out, your body arching up off the blanket, a heavy throb in your abandoned clit. 
“Please, Ben…” you implore, greedy for more.
He shushes you and unfurls slightly, his fingers flexing inside you as he rearranges to press his whole body into your flank, his cock teasingly hard against your hip, using his free hand to haul one of your legs over his, pulled open to his attention now.
“Don't be impatient; we have all the time in the world,” he tuts sinfully, his lips hot on your throat, grazing the tip of his teeth lightly over your jugular. 
Your protesting mewl is cut short by his fingers twisting inside you, a dragging sensation that makes your eyes roll and your whole abdomen clench.
“I could do this for hours,” he confesses silkily, his breath hot on your temple. “I love the look on your face when I do this…”
He curls his fingers, a probing sensation that makes you groan and your face contort, your mouth now hanging open. He chuckles triumphantly before twisting his wrist again and beginning a rocking motion, wringing a sound from your body that, before you met him, you may have been ashamed of, but he lauds every time. Him murmuring how proud he is that he can do this to you.
But it is not quite enough to push you to the edge as fast as you are craving, more of a slow swirling ascent that has you lighthearted and with laboured breathing, your abdomen rippling as all your muscles tense and release in waves, as if willing your orgasm closer, an itch in your brain you need to scratch. It has you pleading with him to take pity, go a little faster, rougher, anything…
“Syncopate, sweet girl…” he purrs, “listen to the music, breathe in the air, float away with the universe…”
Each word is a lyrical wave tumbling from his lips in a rhythm that matches the movement of his fingers inside you. So you relax back, savouring the multisensory journey, allowing the flow to take you rather than chasing immediate pleasure. Something morphing in your body as you do so, a serenity that is bone-deep, riding the gentle waves of pleasure that lap at your edges while his fingers dance lightly upon your g-spot.
“That’s it….” he rumbles approvingly, intuiting your surrender.
He slips down to enclose your areola in his hot, wet mouth, once again causing a spike of pleasure that has you clenching upon his fingers and canting up. A firm hand on your solar plexus pushes you back down with a chuckle that vibrates your nipple, now firm under his tongue. And so he continues the slow, wondrous torture, swapping to your other breast.
You swear you can feel every blade of grass under your shoulders through the soft cotton weave, the energy of every star above you in the sky coursing through his touch deep inside, every note of the song playing reverberating under your skin. A high, so delicate but earthy, as if everything is turned up to eleven on a dial, tangy and bright, like popping candy throughout your entire being.
It's then he swipes his thumb over your engorged clit; you could swear a supernova fires in your synapses, the sensation all at once too much, and with a few flicks, you are clawing at the blanket and his skin, biting your lip, circling that phenomenal bliss.
This time, he doesn't relent, his lips sucking your neck as with a cry that you are sure startles every animal burrowed in the surrounding fields; you are breaking. Almost febrile, your entire being flushing hot, every muscle tensing, your pussy grasping his fingers to the point he growls, driving his stiff cock into your hip, precum smearing over your skin. Still, it’s something you barely sense, your entire focus pinpointed on the sensations coursing through your body.
At last, you fall back, exhausted and panting, feeling his fingers slip slowly from your body with a gush of moisture that leaks across your bottom. You turn your head to look at him, mind awash, unable to form words. His responding smile is smug, crooked and sheer debauchery, his fingers still wet with your arousal, tracing soothing patterns over your ribs as you come down.
“May I return the favour…?” you croak finally.
Before you know it, he is rolling onto his back next to you, an expectant, joyous look upon his face, eyes tracking pointedly to his navel as do yours. His cock standing proud and leaking slightly—a mouthwateringly inviting sight.
He howls, and his whole body flexes as instead of taking him in hand, you dive low and bring his cock into your mouth, so rigid and searing. That tart taste is strong on your tongue as you suckle upon his head, allowing your tongue to press against his frenulum in a cresting wave. He groans staccato, his pelvis tilts, unable to resist the urge to push a little deeper, one hand landing heavy in your hair, twining some strands between his fingers, an anchor he needs as you begin to bob up and down sucking hard, your cheeks hollowing.
The wash of your high enhancing every second, as if in tune with his body—the micro spasms rippling across the plane of his washboard stomach, the flutter of his long eyelashes, the blunt scrape of his rounded fingernails over your scalp, the pulse of his vein on your lips as you slowly allow him to pass through the tight ring of your mouth, teasing him as much as he did you.
You chuckle as he huffs as you pull away and instead lick the length of his shaft with a questing tongue, your hands encircling his base and squeezing softly, enjoying the handful he provides, watching a bead of precum form that you lavishly lick up. He groans again, his head thrashing upon the blanket, the delicate fronds of daisy petals scattering like confetti into his chestnut waves as he does so, his lip flushing magenta where his incisor worries it.
It makes you sit up and stare down upon him wantonly, so utterly beautiful in his untamed arousal. His eyes fly open, glassy and pleading in the campfire glow, pouting fractionally at the lack of your mouth upon his cock, your hand still pumping him gently. Instead, you swing a leg over his and, without a moment of hesitation, sink onto him, inhaling shudderingly at the invasion, your pussy still inflamed from your recent orgasm.
The look of absolute pleasure and reverence that claims his handsome features feels burned into your retinas as his hands fly to your hips, pushing you down flush to his body, his pubic hair tickling your distended slippery clit, his tip rocking into your hilt in a way that makes your eyes roll.
“Don't move, not yet, just feel…” he counsels, his eyes closing, licking his lips and encouraging you, with the flex of his fingers, to rotate your pelvis, to feel him drag against all your walls. 
And so you do, scratch your nails delicately down his abdominals as you stare out to the inky horizon where the navy sky meets the blackened outline of the hedgerows in the distance—again, letting the melodic song seep into your bones, feeling the heat from the dancing flames.
You lean back and arch your spine, placing your hands upon his kneecaps, his legs bending slightly to meet your grip. His hands roam upwards, over your belly and ribs, enclosing each of your breasts in his large grip, a beeline right to your core, already a live wire again, desire coursing in every fibre of your being. 
Then in a deliberate slow drag, you rise slowly before dropping swiftly, revelling in the way his cock pushes you open. A groan from deep inside your being a match to his—throaty, low, wrecked. You begin to set a languid pace, riding him, gripping his knees behind you and staring at the stars above, feeling as if they surround you, tiny lanterns floating just beyond your reach.
“Look at me,” his call is soft, unfocused, imploring, and you tilt down, your breasts squashed into his palms as your eyes meet, something profound in the glimmer you find in the dilated blackness.
Sex has never been this unrestrained before now. Being with him is liberating, wild and luxuriant every time, be it under the influence or not. But tonight, somehow greater than the previous, an inherently verdant setting, alone in the wilds on a balmy night, away from the crowds always in your periphery at the music festival. A large part of you wanting this to be your new forever—naked and feral, entwined together for a blur of future days and nights. A want to live a primitive life of base urges, to feast and to fuck, to be at one with the land, the seasons and the bounteous simplicity of nature.
Time feels elastic as your thighs start to burn from the exertion. Still, you do not stop, not for a moment, too caught up in the tide slowly rising once more and sensing the same in him. A growing desperation in the way his fingers dig into your flesh, in the wild beating of the prominent vein in his neck, in the rise of his hips to meet yours, spearing up as you bear down so it feels like there will always be the imprint of him inside you.
He calls your name, the callus where he holds his paintbrush catching perfectly over your clit as his fingers quest between your legs, hooking you with unerring precision. Catapulting you fast towards a dizzying high again, his movements growing urgent, his jaw tight, so close to breaking. It is barely a moment before you snap again, stilling upon him as you scream with abandon, fluttering around his rigid cock. He groans loudly and, with a few final jerky spasms, comes hard, his toes curling over, his ropey thighs turning rock solid under your bottom as he fills you, a symphony of praise falling from his lips, some not even in English.
And then you are slumping on top of him, his smooth chest tacky under your cheek as you gulp for air, the rustle of the breeze through the nearby trees and the hiss and pop of the logs upon the campfire the only sounds now, the radio falling silent, likely needing new batteries. He slips from your body as you curl your hands around his biceps and snuggle upon him. His long, lean arms wrap around your torso, enveloping you within the large blanket you were lying upon and dropping a kiss upon your dewy brow.
“We can bathe tomorrow in the river,” he hums gently into your hairline.
You nod drowsily, the pull of sleep too beguiling to resist. And that is how you drift off, resting atop him, his heartbeat strong and steady under your ear, the burbling sounds of nature encircling you.
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Benedict taglist pt 1: @makaylan @longingintheuniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @m-rae23 @last-sheep @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kmc1989 @desert-fern @corpseoftrees-queen @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @sya-skies
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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 11 hours
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The apparition
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a/n only fitting for to me come back with an angst after a month of disappearing. Do I think that this should have never seen the light of day? Yes. But oh well… Sleep token made me do it. Also, this a one shot. Won’t be writing a part two to this. Pain is pain for a reason. 🥹
warning: forbidden love, addiction, toxic love?, past trauma, brief mentions of sexual intimacy.
The part in italics is the glimpse of the past.
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
He felt like a kid. Pushed aside once again. A rock. Kicked carelessly by the side of the road. Mindlessly misplaced. Carelessly ignored. Azriel knew his tendencies. That desire to be loved. To be wanted. To be longed for. That same feeling had him crawling after females who never reciprocated his affection. Yet he crawled back. No matter the amount of stabs his heart took. He always found himself reaching.
Was this something his brothers had warned him about? Yes. Cassian repeatedly sat him down like a youngling, pointing out the damage he was creating. The wounds Azriel was tearing open. The self-inflicted pain he was causing himself. Yes, yes, and triple fucking yes. But it was like a drug, and he was an addict. Addict that was so far down the line that the withdrawal was scarier than knowing that every morning his bed was cold, his arms were empty, and his heart had been bled dry. 
The corner street door creaked open. Alerting the lost spymaster. His senses perked up. Azriel doubted that it was true, but even now, even without catching a glimpse of you, he was convinced that he sensed you. But nothing compared to that wave of familiarity that crashed into him when your frame came into view. Chasing the last bits of air out of his lungs. His hands reached out in a frenzy of muscle memory.
“Azriel?”, and it’s the surprise—the hints of horror, almost pain—that sounded in the way you said his name. But his mind was too far gone to register that. So much of an always-alert spymaster. “Oh, no, no," you dragged your hand out of his grip, “You shouldn’t be here”, you shook your head, putting distance between you two. "Please," and here goes that plea. The desperation. “No, Azriel, we had a deal, remember? Last week was the last time," you hissed at him, turning to look over your shoulder. 
“This will be the last time," Azriel muttered. A lie. He knew that. But maybe you didn’t. Maybe he could lie to himself to the point where even the ones around him believed him. “Oh, no, I know how this goes." You shook your head repeatedly, “I warned you, you stupid fool." He could feel the frustration flowing through you. The panic. “You promised me you were decent. That you had a hold of your mental shields." There was nothing sweet in your tone as you hissed out, reaching to open the door leading to your shop.
“They were. They are," Azriel muttered, stepping after you. “Don’t lie to me. You can’t fool me”, you huffed, looking through the drawer, cursing as loose pieces of paper swayed, falling to the floor. And Azriel just stood there, watching. Drinking in every single movement. “When?”, you asked, wild eyes looking up at Azriel. And he knew exactly what you wanted to know too. Should he lie? Alter the date? Hide a symptom or two. “Last month," his mouth betrayed him, however, and he had a first-seat ticket to watching your face fall. “But it’s not bad; I have it under control," Azriel quickly jumped in, hoping to defuse the situation, “It just flared up tonight, I promise." Another lie. But if he wanted to get what he was looking for, he had to push this narrative in a convincing enough manner.
“I’m telling Rhys," you muttered. "No,"  Azriel cut in so quickly that it made you jolt. “No need, plus he is aware that I am seeing you," he added in a much calmer tone. “Seeing me or seeing me now?”, you pushed. It was the mess with Elain that had made him crumple. Had taken him out for months before he found his footing once again. Even if he knew that the relationship had an expiration date, the mating bond always won. No matter the stories others showed down one’s throat about the chance of rejecting it.
“All of it. Knows all of it”, Azriel nodded. Just one more, he thought, just for tonight. “I’m saying this as a friend. You can’t keep coming back," you whispered, “This needs to stop." It was Rhys who had found you. An illusionist manipulating people’s emotions, threading together images that felt real to the depths of one’s bones. An alter of wished they called you. People and even high-fea prayed at your altars for Mother's sake. You were something some feared and others were ready to sacrifice themselves for.
“What illusions do you obtain from?" It was your fifth meeting, and Azriel, much to your dismay, had pushed the idea of getting to know each other. After all, he would have to let you into the depths of his soul. So that had been his one rule—befriend me first. You had stayed silent for a long time. Twirling the red wine in your glass. “Of love," you muttered, and Azriel could have never imagined that those two words would alert all of his life. “Why?”, was a question brought up by pure curiosity back then, with no implied intentions. “It gets messy, and the falsification of love feels wrong. Such feelings shouldn’t be tainted by magic," you said, pushing your hair over your shoulder. You glowed even in the dim light. The curves of your body were breathtaking as you lounged in the day bed on the balcony of Azriel’s apartment. It was a lethal kind of beauty, and with a handful of heartbeats, he knew that he was already slipping. 
“I saw Elain today; she... we spoke, and I just..." It was a hell of a lie he was choosing, but the need won out in his logical sense. “Mend it for me; I can’t keep feeling as if I have nothing," he breathed out. His eyes filling up with tears. “Just this one time," Azriel said, sinking to his knees. He saw your walls cracking slowly as you rounded the table. Fingers reaching out to cup his face. His hands reach to hold onto your hips. Pleading eyes burning into you. “I should have never said yes, and I hope you know how much I regret this," you muttered, clawing at his heart. 
“Admit it, I’m a fun company." Azriel leaned closer, making sure you could hear him through the music. You had no clue how he managed to drag you to Rita’s of all places, but here you were. One of the finest silks on your skin. A private booth. The lights. The drumming of the crowd. You shook your head, suppressing a smile. “You’ve gotten cocky," you observed, “Who knew you had that in you." Azriel leaned back, undoing the first button of his black shirt. "Oh, there’s so much more you don’t know about me, baby," he said, speaking into thin air. Knowing that you could hear him. He had leaned in only to feel you closer to him. Smirking as he lifted his glass. 
His hands reached out, taking hold of your legs as he pulled them up, draping them over his lap. Caught by the sudden movement, you were forced to reach out. Hand on his shoulder as you steadied yourself. That’s when he caught that unrehearsed glimpse of need in your eyes, but it was quickly pushed back. “Now this is crossing the line," you huffed. But before you had a chance to move, Azriel clasped his hand on your thigh. “What are you afraid of?” He threw that question absentmindedly, not realizing how deep that root of pain was. “Wasn’t that what you asked me the first day we met?” Azriel smirked before averting his attention back to the crowd. Leaving you slowly breaking down beneath the feeling of him. Beneath the fear of yourself.
“I should have never given in," you said, lifting his chin, and he obliged without a fuss. “You liked this too. Admit it," Azriel bit back, his hold on you tightening. He would fight hell in hopes of being able to keep his hands on you. In hopes of keeping you. “We had a deal. No falling for one another," you hissed, nails digging into the sides of his face. “I warned you that my kind doesn’t do happy endings and picket fences, Azriel," you huffed. “I don’t need that from you," he argued, “I just need you to chase Elain away. That hasn’t changed. I still love her, not you." Another lie for the night. A bitter chuckle slipped through your lips, “You’re one shit of a liar, dear spymaster of the night court.”. 
You were to blame for this just as much. You should have stood your ground. Should have never been entertained by that wimp. Because Rhys had warned you. Told you about Azriel's tendencies. So the fact that he had asked for a night that would make him feel loved should have been a red flag. But it was the empath in you that buckled at the feeling of his sadness. The loneliness that could drown out the whole army. The crippling emptiness. The way he broke down crying as he held onto you.
But all that could have been forgiven. Could have been managed. But it was yourself that you threaded into that glimpse of hope for him. Something you had never done before. It was always a made-up face you used while creating an illusion. It was the safest way. But you had been just as selfish. Nights spent getting to know each other left you wondering what it would feel like to know the touch of a man who wanted you. Who craved you. Who chose you even though loving you was a forbidden act of insanity.
And then it felt as if sending a ship you knew was destined to sink set sail. The next time Azriel stopped by, he was barely through the door as his hand grabbed the back of your head, pulling you closer to him. It felt so raw. So powerful. Whatever was happening in that small corner shop was way too big for it. Too big for Velaris. The whole world. As his hands danced over your body. Unraveling parts of you no one had seen before. Laying you bone bare beneath him. “Make me feel," he had whispered over and over. That sad lost man, making you break your own rules as you wrapped him in the sense of eternal peace as he made love to you over and over again. Digging a grave for each of you.
“If loving that silly girl with flowers in her hair had an explanation date, this has the date of your death engraved on your gravestone," you whimpered, your eyes burning as you held back tears. You warned him. Kept on warning him. In hopes of being able to wash your hands clean afterward. Because he knew the consequences. Loving you wasn’t something that could ever happen. But it only dragged you deeper. “I know. I  remember everything," Azriel muttered, pressing ghost-like kisses over your stomach. His hands already slipping past the hem of your dress. Fingers skimming over your legs. You pressed your own hands over his, “Just an illusion this time, nothing more." You reached to pull back from his touch, but his grip on your thighs only tightened. “Let me make love to you," Azriel pleaded, and if you could justify the opium your magic gave him before, it was oozing out in ugly sores now. You had doomed him. Pained tears fell down your cheeks as you kneeled in front of him. Cupping his face with both hands. You let yourself take in the sight of him. Both because you knew that you would never meet another man like him and so you could torment yourself with guilt for fracturing him for the rest of your existence. 
“You’re all better now," you muttered, smiling up at him. Azriel’s eyes grew hazy. “Do you remember the night we danced in your apartment after way too much wine?” You pushed the damp curl from his forehead, biting the inside of your cheek so you wouldn’t break down alongside him. He nodded eagerly. “You’re there, my love, in that moment," you said, taking a steady breath. Savoring the warmth of him. The feeling of him being close. “But you’re not there with me. Because I’m not real, Azriel," his shoulders sagged at your words. You could feel him trying to pull back, but you kept your hand on his neck. “I was never here. Never with you. You dreamed me up, baby," you said, pressing your lips to his forehead. You closed your eyes, feeling your own heart shatter, “But it was a nice dream, Az, and you will wake up way lighter tomorrow.”
Those same words were like a broken record as Azriel jumped up. Body aching and drenched in sweat. He turned aimlessly, as if in hopes of seeing you there. But he was in his room. The black sheets covered his body. "No," he grunts, yanking the black silk off him. Without a second thought, he winnowed. To one place that had been calling for him all of these weeks. And he’s nearly falling to his knees as the side of the wall comes into view. No windows. No sign. A solid concrete wall. “I know it’s your doing," he screams angrily into the depths of night. Hands pushing against the solid foundations. But there’s nothing. Not even a breath of you. As if it were never there. As if for the entire time it was just the corner of the street.
“You can’t push me away," he roared, beating his fist till the skin of his knuckles cracked, “You’re a fucking coward; that’s what you are." There was no way he had dreamed it. That you were a fleeting image of the night. Drafted by his brain. “You promised...", Azriel sank to his knees. His hands still pressed against the wall as he leaned against it. “I know it was real; you can’t make me believe otherwise," he crocked out, angry tears rolling down his cheeks. Falling to the ground, he pressed his back against where the door of your shop used to be. His wings sagged on either side of him. And he just sat there. The stars up above keep him company throughout the rest of the night. He wasn’t gonna move. He won’t go. He wouldn’t go. The wind kissed his damp cheeks but he was numb to it. You watched him from the other side of the alley. Hand on your mouth as you drowned the shattering waves of pain within. You watched until the night took you away forever.
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Hi!!
Can you do a Sam Winchester begging plus size reader to sit on his face. Whatever vibes you want :) Dommy Sam is always a fav but as long as Sam is reassuring and eating reader out, I’m happy :)
Thank you!!
.⋆。Peaches and Cream。⋆.
Sam Winchester x plus size reader
Dean made the mistake of leaving you alone with a very soulless version of your best friend who only wants one thing from you
Warnings: soulless!Sam, smut, friends to lovers?, oral (f receiving), mentions of condoms, praise, body worshipping, overstimulation, dom!Sam, almost getting caught, little bit of self-consciousness WC: 1.8k
Minors DNI
a/n: thank you all for being so patient with me, i promise i only have a couple weeks left of uni and i'm gonna come running back with some new fics!
Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library
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His eyes burned into the back of your skull, as they had been for the past 10 minutes. And yet, you refused to look up from the book in front of you, even though you had not turned a page in that same amount of time.  You weren’t a stranger to Sam’s gaze, in fact you used to love it; the way his big puppy dog eyes trailed up your curves whenever he thought you wouldn’t notice never failed to have heat bloom across your cheeks.
But his staring was far different now.
Sam was different now.
You could hear him shift in his seat before the tell-tale sound of his boots against the cheap vinyl as he got closer. You swallowed around the lump in your throat though it did nothing to sooth the fear simmering inside you. 
“You’re not reading.” His warm breath tickled your neck. You shivered and squeezed your eyes shut. You knew what he wanted, and so badly did you wish to give it to him, like you always had but it was so wrong. His soul was gone, the very thing that made Sam Sam but it was still his body, his voice so tantalisingly close.
“Yes I am.” You bit back a whimper as Sam leaned in closer, his large hands planting themselves on the table in front of you, keeping you pinned to the spot. The tip of his nose brushed gently along your ear.
“No.” Suddenly the book was ripped from your hands and thrown across the motel room (something your Sam would never do). “You’re not.”
His lips closed around your earlobe. “Sam.” You cursed Dean in your mind, that man and his need for diner pie no matter how far out of his way he had to go to get it. “We can’t.” Fire pooled between your plump thighs, quickly soaking through your panties. 
He shifted closer, his strong arms now tightly pressed against you. He released your ear with a soft pop. “Can’t or won’t? Because I think we both know just how badly you want me, sweetheart.” You held your breath as Sam’s hands slowly moved from the table to your wide hips.
“Sam.” You tried again but this time he answered you with a deep growl.
“Say my name like that again and I promise that you won’t be walking straight for a week.” A moan escaped your lips before you could even think of stopping it. You could feel Sam’s plump lips curl into a devious smirk. 
“But-“ His grip tightened and all the doubts in your mind vanished.
“But nothing. Dean won’t be back for hours and you need to unwind and I happen to know the perfect way to do that.” 
As a last ditch attempt before your mind completely went fuzzy, you blurted out- “We don’t have condoms.”
His chuckle rumbled through your bones, sending a chill of excitement up your spine. “I’m not gonna fuck you, not today at least. I just want a little taste of this nice,” His right hand slid down the pudge of your stomach and wedged itself between your thighs, cupping you over the thick denim of your jeans, “juicy,” He nuzzled his face against your neck, “cunt.” 
“Be gentle?” You turned your head, encouraging the larger man to meet your gaze. His eyes shone with his victory.
“You want your Sammy don’t you?” He teased. “Don’t worry sweetheart, I’ll give you exactly what you want.” And then he struck. 
His lips moulded perfectly against yours in a kiss long overdue. It was soft, almost sweet but you could feel the way he was holding back, forcing himself to relent to your wishes, even as he cupped your jaw with his other hand, deepening it. 
You whimpered against his lips and he reluctantly pulled away. You barely had a moment to catch your breath before Sam yanked you from your chair and lifted you into his arms. “Sam!” You tried to protest, but he silenced you with a kiss more determined than before. 
His tongue forced its way into your mouth as he strode to his unused bed. Your arms wound around his neck, Sam growling in approval. His knees bumped against the mattress and he fell forwards, catching himself with his right hand before he could crush you. Your pussy squeezed around nothing at the raw strength of the hunter you’d been pining for. 
You grabbed at the front of his flannel as he tugged on the hem of your jeans. Your teeth clacked together and the sound of ripping fabric filled the room. “Eager girl.” Sam groaned against your lips as you still held onto the now destroyed shirt in your grip. 
Your jeans button popped open. “Please Sam.” His long fingers grazed the wet spot on your panties and your hips bucked up, encouraging his touch to go just a little further down. He chuckled cruelly but yet he obeyed. The calloused tips of his fingers pressed into your throbbing clit, making your jaw drop with a silent moan.
He nipped at the frantic pulse along your throat, unbothered by the deep welts he was leaving behind. Your heart skipped a beat as you laid your palms onto his naked chest. “Sam.” His name was barely even a breath. 
“Good girl.” Your ruined panties were pushed to the side as his middle finger traced up your slit, gathering as much of your wetness as he could. “So wet for me. You’ve been waiting so long haven’t you.” He cooed.
You tried to pull him closer, but he wouldn’t budge, content in teasing you. “Shhh let me play a little longer and then I’ll give you what you want.” His slender hips rolled against your thigh, letting you feel the monstrous bulge of his cock where it was straining against his own jeans.
You squirmed as he finally pressed his thick fingers to your clit, just barely dousing the fire between your legs. “Please.” Your eyes burned with tears of desperation. You needed him like it was the only thing keeping you alive.
Sam tsked and in response, pulled his fingers away. You nearly cried as your relief was ripped away from you. “Now, while I do love your begging, we’re doing this my way. You need to learn.” 
He leaned back onto his heels, his ripped shirt perfectly framing his toned stomach and chest. You couldn’t look away from him, never could you have even dreamed that your best friend was this good-looking. “Jeans. Off.” 
Your hands flew down to your hips, eager to obey. Sam smirked and pulled off the tattered flannel, his eyes remained on you though, burning with lust. Your hands shook as you finally got your pants off. Your panties quickly followed after.
“What a good little slut, listening so prettily. You just want your Sammy to take care of you don’t you.” You nodded desperately.
“Please, wanna be good.” 
He grabbed your wide hips and rolled onto his back, dragging you up the length of his torso until you were straddling his wide shoulders. “Then be good for me and sit on my face.”
“But-“ He shot you a lot from between your legs and dragged you up further so you had no choice but to plant your knees on the mattress next to his head. You caught yourself on the wall behind the headboard as you tried to rock forwards and pull yourself up. 
“Do this for me, sweetheart. Lemme drown in that pussy.” His teeth sunk into the soft fat of your inner thigh. 
“But Sam, I-I don’t want to hurt you. ‘M not exactly small.” 
“Sit. I won’t repeat myself again.” Your knees wobbled but you remained upright, determined to not harm the man beneath you. “Fine, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
His arms wound around your legs and forced you down onto his mouth. “Perfect.” He grumbled into your cunt.
“Sam!” But before you had the chance to even think of prying yourself from him, Sam’s lips sealed around your clit and it took every ounce of self-restraint you had not to court around his head and keep him right there, suckling at you, forever.
Your moans echoed through the cheap motel room, bouncing off the peeling wallpaper and soaking into the old carpeting. You couldn’t help but grind down onto his face, chasing the pleasure he had already denied you once before. Sam groaned in approval from between your legs. His tongue lapped at you, moving with a precision that had you asking yourself why you hadn't relented sooner.
“Are-are you spelling something?” He just winked at you and ducked his head down once more. Your eyebrows scrunched as you tried to concentrate on the fluid movement of his tongue against you though the blinding pleasure made it difficult.
S-A-M-U-E-L He took a breath. W-I-N-C-H-E-S-T-E-R
He was branding you, and that thought sent you catapulting to the precipice of your end. “Sam, Sam please. ‘M so close, please, please.” His right hand released your thigh and quickly slipped underneath his chin, letting his thick fingers finally breach your needy cunt. The knot in your stomach wound impossibly tighter and then just as he crooked his fingers, hitting the delicate bundle of nerves within you, Sam spelled one more word.
M-I-N-E
“Fuck fuck fuck!” You thrashed on top of him, wave after wave of euphoria washing over you, drowning you in it as Sam’s unrelenting ministrations pushed you right into another orgasm just as the first was dying down.
Your hands flew to his silky hair and tried to pry him off of you but he kept going, seemingly determined to make you pass out from the pleasure. “Too much.” Your whole body shook as your nerves lit up like fireworks.
“Oh god-“ Suddenly, the tell-tale rumble of the Impala had both you and the man you were straddling freeze. The car door squeaked and you both looked at each other. 
Sam grabbed your hips and rolled you onto your back before ripping his half-naked body from yours. You threw the covers over yourself and shut your eyes, praying that your heavy breathing wouldn’t be noticed by the other hunter. 
Just as Dean’s footsteps reached the motel room door, Sam had tugged on a new (non-ripped) flannel from his bag. Your eyes slammed shut as the door creaked open and Dean slipped inside.
There was a beat of silence. “She sleeping?” You breathed out a sigh of relief, you couldn’t imagine what he would’ve thought if he realised what was happening between his soulless little brother and you barely moments before.
“Yeah.” Sam responded in a clipped tone, a now regular occurrence with his brother. Dean hummed and you heard the sound of a plastic bag being placed on the kitchen counter.
“I got some food for us. You want any?” You could’ve melted from the genuine concern in his voice but as Sam answered, your stomach churred with embarrassment.
“I already ate.” He smirked as he wiped away the last remnants of your cum from his lips with his thumb.
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myun-saidthoughts · 2 days
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12th House Venus: I Choose Longing
(Disorganized attachment style edition)
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"I'll still choose my imagination instead of choosing a tangible you."
My soul is drawn to someone who won't choose me; my body finds solace in the desire of someone who longs for me but ultimately chooses another.
As I sit on my bed, lost in yet another mesmerizing song, I start to feel this type of longing that my own soul forgets it calls for. I stare into the abyss of what I think is my room and this sinking feeling seeps in; suddenly I start to feel as if I have said goodbye to someone who was never even mine.
I start to imagine false memories in my mind, and i'm suddenly remembering this false goodbye. My soul can't tell the difference, is it reality or just my imagination? I cling onto these false memories as if the person I long for has just chosen another, It's like i'm reading a fabricated story and my eyes can only look in between the lines, not at the words but instead I stare at the unsaid.
Instead, I lie on my bed, imagining a scenario where I walk into a room and I see the side of his face lost in conversation with someone else, my heart clenches, I take a deep breathe in and to my expected surmise, I see him with her. And as I look over he turns to look at me, and as our eyes interlock I imagine him clenching his fists, holding his breath while whispering to himself, "I wish you were her."
Instead, I stare at the wall, imagining a scenario where I'm walking into a bar and I see him with her. We make eye contact; he takes a breath and looks down. I can't look away, my heart is suddenly wishing for his hello but seconds pass, our eye contact breaks, and as he walks away, I imagine him holding her hand, while thinking to himself, "It should have been her."
Am I choosing this? Am I wishing to long for someone instead of ever being with them? Why do I envision scenarios where the person I say I want has said goodbye to me before, but only after I fell for him, and after he fell for me too?
"My body finds comfort in only the idea of you, and because I fear accepting the love my own soul reluctantly calls for, I will choose these imagined scenarios over ever being truly yours; i'd rather break my own heart over and over again than allow the love I so desperately wish for in; even it means I'll stare at the ceiling, searching through the what if's and what could be's, I'll still choose my imagination instead of choosing a tangible you."
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12th House Venus + Moon aspecting Neptune may relate because oftentimes these individuals will search and run towards those who take, those who won't emotionally satisfy or emotionally give in the way you need. Instead those you choose are those who may have to need you, you're the other woman, the mistress, the girl he hasn't told his friends about, the girl in the shadows or the one he only calls at 2AM. Or you feel a sense of power and a sense of worth when he does decide to choose you over someone he has self proclaimed to be with. Therefore he is with another girl yet he may "dream" and secretly desire you. You're the only one who "gets him" he says, you're the only one he feels attracted to or close with. And on those nights where you wait for his 2AM call, you are receiving a sense of "power" that in this moment he is choosing you, he just may not choose you in the morning, and in that weary state you feel comfortable. And because of that you'll always be searching for his approval or acknowledgement. In essence, you somehow are never the chosen girl, and you find yourself in loops and cycles of choosing those who won't choose you. These individuals are reflecting to you core wounds that you haven't acknowledged or accepted. Especially if you have many 12H house placements such as a 12H Moon/Venus or Pisces Moon. Those patterns you've reluctantly learned from your childhood or from your Mom, has lead you here. Now you stare in the mirror and question your wholeness, you question why the ones you choose never seem to choose you, and you're soul is instead asking to give yourself that type of love that you're too scared to develop.
This is how I have felt in the past regarding romantic connections, and for me, these types of feelings only occur when the connection I am forming holds the possibility that I can fall for the person. Especially if the boy I like showcases a slight desire for another or isn't meeting my expectations, I'll get into this longing state where I imagine our connection is completely over, I imagine that he is with someone else and I sit in it; and this feeling somehow feels comfortable for me. It's what keeps me in shallow connections, It's what keeps my walls up, it's what creates the distance between me and love. I am terrified of ever being someone else's, I am terrified of being wanted by someone I can see myself falling for, and yet I want nothing more.
I choose those who won't choose me because this uncertainty is what my body knows. My body feels "safe" in this emotional wishing because it's what I have been used to ever since I was young. Once they somehow show consistency within the connection I feel uneasy and confused, I feel more uncomfortable with them openly stating their desires for me, I feel more unsafe when they look into my eyes to tell me "I want you." I need to want them, and they need to want me too, but only in intervals. I need to see him with another while staring at me, I need to question his feelings and imagine the what ifs. If I can't then a part of me can't want him.
When the connection becomes "real" or more "open" I start to feel reluctant and uneasy, once my self worth isn't being questioned, I ask myself "Do I care?" "Do I actually want him?"
These dilemma type of feelings are our concrete walls our brain has created for us to stay "safe." We feel comfortable in shallow connections, we feel more at ease in meaningless connections, and yet a part of our soul is asking for more, a part of our soul knows how much we can give and instead of asking for a sip of the love we crave, we'd rather stay parched.
We'd rather stay away from the chance of truly ever being someone's person, because if we allowed them in, if we allowed them to see us, then they'll have the power to truly break us;
This post is more word vomit, I really don't know if others will relate but this is why I am so drawn to nodal synastry + water house synastry overlays, I don't feel safe with anyone, I don't like being with someone who doesn't bring me ease or the sense of acceptance, and I wanted to share my thoughts.
I have:
A Scorpio Moon that exactly squares my Neptune
A 12th House Venus, Mercury, Chiron and Lilith
My 12th House Venus sextiles my Neptune
A disorganized attachment style with abandonment wounds.
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Text
Uneggspected - Tokyo Debunkers
Pairing: Haru x Reader
Warnings: Egg.
Word Count: 1.1k
A/N: Finally posting again! Celebrating with a Tokyo Debunkers fic to feed the fans
You needed a break. Constantly going from house to house, mission to mission, was draining you. So you did what you always did when you needed a break: visited Jabberwock. The rolling fields, sunny sky, and cute anomalies was like a haven. You happily skipped down the walkway and to the dorms. You knocked happily.
"You're here!" Haru said as he whipped open the door. "Perfect!"
"Were you expecting- woah!"
Haru tugged you inside the dorm. His hand clamped down tight on yours as he dragged you to the kitchen. On the kitchen floor was a large egg. You blinked once. Then twice. That was a big egg. You looked over at Haru who had a frown. 
"Egg?"
"I don't know how to be a mother." He sighed and shook his head.
"Peekaboo is literally your child."
"I don't know how to raise an egg!"
Okay, this was weird. But it's normal. At least, for this dorm. This place was like a zoo, after all. You crouched and studied the egg. It was white, with purple and green dots all over it. You tried to think about all the anomalies you've seen here. You don't really remember any of them being egg layers. None of them looked like egg layers, but what would that even look like in the first place?
"What is it?"
"An egg."
You rolled your eyes. "Yeah, I see that. But from where?"
Haru shrugged. He set down Peekaboo who started sniffing around the egg. "It was just delivered here. No notes, info, nothing. I was told to just wait until it hatched."
"Oh." You looked up at Haru. "I'm guessing you want my help?"
"Please." He sat next to you.
"Fine. Are we just gonna sit here and wait for it to hatch?"
He smiled at you. You took it as a yes and settled down in a more comfortable position. This wasn't so bad. It was technically a break and you weren't necessarily doing anything. Just sitting and watching an egg. Would it be your idea of relaxation? No. What you really wanted to do was just cuddle Peekaboo for a bit then call it a day.
Haru sat quietly next to you. His face was twisted in concentration. With how much he was always bouncing around, it was a little odd to see him so stationary. Peekaboo waddled around the egg, cooing and making curious sounds. You smiled softly.
"You doing okay?" Haru suddenly asked.
"Yeah? Why?" You looked back over at him. He kept that serious gaze.
"You look tired. And your face was sad when I answered the door."
You frowned. "Excuse you, I was smiling."
"Your heart was frowning."
"Cheesy."
He sighed and scooted closer to you. "I know. But I am kinda worried about you. You're always going from mission to mission."
You rolled your eyes. "Oh, please. It's not as bad as the work you do. Do you even go to classes because of how much you're working here? Or sleep more than three hours?"
"Hey!" He put his hands up in defense. "Don't turn your attention to me. This, I'm used to. I'm a ghoul. It's nothing. But you? How are you really feeling?"
The playful smirk on your face slowly melted. The memories of how you felt when you first arrived flooded your mind. You slowly hugged your knees to your chest. You rested your cheek on your knees. You didn't want to think about it. If you did, it would make your brain feel all goopy. It would make you realize that you would probably never find a cure for the curse that was put on you.
Haru sighed. He hesitantly wrapped his arm around you. It was odd. It felt odd. But you kept your gaze on the egg and leaned slightly into him. Haru always seemed so aloof. From what you've seen of him, he was like you. Constantly on the go so he didn't have to think. Just the thought made you sad.
"Oh. The egg." Haru pointed at it. The egg wiggled.
"Huh. Is it about to hatch?"
You leaned forward and studied it. The egg shook again. A small crack formed on the top. You got an uneasy feeling. Not all anomalies were nice. They could look cute, but bite your finger off. You witnessed Peekaboo go feral when it wasn't fed on time. And this egg would no doubt have a hungry anomaly searching for its first meal. You leaned back.
"I think we should bring it outside." You said, looking over at Haru.
He tilted his head. "I thought it would be more comfortable in here."
"Yeah, but what if it's like… dangerous? Or starts running around everywhere?"
"That's a good idea. We should-"
The egg started to form more cracks. Your eyes grew wide. Haru started cursing and picked up the egg. He ran towards the front door, you and Peekaboo trailing behind him. The three of you ran far from the dorm before setting it back down. The egg was shaking violently. Haru pushed you behind him, keeping his grip on your wrist.
"Get ready to run!" He said.
The egg fell apart. And inside… was another egg.
"The fuck?" You narrowed your eyes.
"Oh my god, it's an egg!" Haru sighed and let go of your wrist.
"Waaah!!"
The egg sprouted eyes and lips, tears streaming down its shell. Okay, that was creepy. The face was oddly human as it continued to cry. Maybe you had enough of a break for today. You backed away slowly. Haru wouldn't let you.
"Where are you going? Don't leave your child."
You tried shaking off his grip. "That's your child! Not mine!"
He gasped. "How dare you! We hatched it together. That means we're both parents."
"No. I'm leaving. And I'm not paying child support."
"What is wrong with you two?" Ren appeared by your side. He was in his diner uniform.
You and Haru looked at each other. You smirked. He smiled brightly. Poor Ren, didn't know what he was walking into. Haru picked up the crying egg and placed it in Ren's arms. Ren immediately looked disgusted.
"Ew! What the hell is this thing?! Get it away! It's so ugly!"
"Sorry, Ren." Haru grabbed your hand once again. "We need you to take care of the egg while we go finish chores."
"What?! No! I have to go to work!"
"Thanks for being a good brother!" You said as you and Haru left him behind.
"Why am I the brother?!"
You and Haru just ran away. Giggles left your mouth as the two of you ran. Haru's hand felt warm and comforting on yours. This wasn't so bad. You had forgotten about your doubts and instead focused on Haru. He somehow ended up being all you needed. You couldn't be sad around him. Not with that smile of his.
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latenightdaydreams · 3 days
Note
Oh, Author. To be in your presence (asks) one again is such a delight. With you and your divine power (writing)... Will you care to bless this lady by fulfilling her simple request? 🙏
Upon your Sub!König revelation (headcanon), a thought - a need - has been lingering in my mind for far too long. According to the scripture, it has mentioned König loves to be financially dominated. If this is true, grant us with the vision of Reader purchasing the best and the most expensive items - cough, toys and lingerie, cough - in the market as some sort of surprise for König. But it comes off as shocking news to him when he finds out whose is it for... It isn't meant for Reader at all. It's all meant for him. I am quite sure we know what ensues next: Our supposedly intimidating giant in lingerie, being teased and pleasured by toys 🤭
Sigh, what a sight to behold. A sight I shall engrave in my mind. Oh, and to add a little bit of a personal spice preference: Konig addresses Dom!Reader as "Meisterin (Mistress)".
Why such an absurd request? Unfortunately, I have quite the fascination for pathetic submissive men. And what better candidate to push into such abyss but our man König 😮‍💨🤌
Anyway, breaking out of my weird, poor attempt at formal speech. I hope you have a great day/night ahead and have been recovering from the pain you mentioned before 🫂 Take plenty of rest, stay hydrated and eat well, alright? Here's plenty of love that hopefully breaks your device screen and ends up san mothering you: ❤️💕💞💓💗🩷💖💝
You're so sweet🩷 Thank you for wishing me well! I also love how you wrote this hahaha
Submissive König is such a baby girl. I always think of this artist work! @ marndraws on twitter😮‍💨 They draw amazing sub/soft König.
A Little Treat (fem)
MDNI🔞
Master List
Sub Head Canon
>cw: fem/afab, bondage, toys, oral, sub/dom
1.4k word count
🪀
.
.
While sitting at his desk in the office, his phone goes off. The ringtone he has set only for you. He pushes himself back from the desk to check the message.
“Send $1,000🩷,”
König can’t help but to smile and he sends you 2k and text back, “I sent extra just in case. Love you.”
Standing in the middle of a high-end sex shop, you look down at your phone and smile. König is always so sweet. You walk forward to a classic maid outfit on the rack inspecting it. A kind woman wearing a black suit comes over with a kind smile.
“May I help you in any way?”
“Yes, actually. Do you carry this in XXXL?”
Once you get home, König hears the car pull up. He quickly abandons his work to rush downstairs and assist you. His eyes land on you ask you wait for him inside the car. In a hurry, he opens the driver’s door for you, holding his hand out to help you out.
“The bags are in the back seat.” You say as he kisses your hand.
“I’ll grab them.” König lets go of your hand and grabs four bags out of the back. His eyes widen as he sees where the bags are from. Excitement rushes through his body. “Liebling, what do you have planned for tonight?”
A small smirk crosses your lips. “You’ll see.”
You walk ahead of König as you both enter the house. Going straight upstairs to the bedroom, you sit on the bed as he places the bags on top of your shared dresser. His eyes gloss over you as he walks to you.
“May I kiss you?”
“Yes.” You turn your head up for him as he leans down and kisses your lips tenderly.
“Danke…” His voice was low as he pulls away from the kiss; looking at you with such adoring eyes.
“Are you ready to see what I got?”
“Ja, absolutely.”
“Sit.” You stand and walk over to the bags and bring them to him.
König sits wide eyed as you pull out a riding crop. He can feel his dick tingle slightly, thinking of your ass jiggling once he hits it. Then a pair of handcuffs; his eyebrows raise in surprise. He continues to watch as you pull out many types of toys and his cock gets hard. Then you hold up a maid’s outfit…clearly not in your size. He tilts his head.
“You’ve been such a good boy lately; I want to treat you.”
“Das ist für mich?”
“All for you.” You say, holding the outfit out to him. “Try it on.”
He stands slowly and grabs the outfit. You sit on the bed opening the packaging to some toys as he gets dressed. König stands there looking at himself in the mirror. His muscles bulging in the tight outfit.
Stepping out of the bedroom, König sees you fully undressed. His jaw drops as he looks up and down your body.
“You look so hot König.”
He blushes and looks down at his own body before bashfully looking back up at you. “Ja?”
“Yes… come here.”
He walks to stand in front of you, his pale blue eyes gazing down at you. You reach up to caress his body, feeling his muscles underneath the fabric of the outfit. A hand dropping down to go under the skirt of the outfit, grabbing his hard cock.
“My handsome boy…” The words leave in a whisper as you walk around him, grabbing the cuff and placing them on his wrist.
You turn and walk to the bed, beckon him to follow you. The giant war criminal listens to you, no questions asked. “Bend over.”
He bends over the bed. His muscular ass showing from underneath the skirt of the maid’s outfit. You rub your hand over his ass before spanking lightly. Reaching for the riding crop, you step back and lightly tap his ass. No reaction. You reach back further and hit him with it again. He jumps slightly before letting out a nervous chuckle.
“Are you okay?”
“Ja.”
“Yes what?” You hit him again. A small red mark appearing on his pale skin.
“Ja Meisterin.”
“That’s my good boy.” You spank him a few more times. Reaching down, you grasp his balls and tug on them slightly before spanking him again. His body jumping slightly, making you giggle as you spank him once more.
“Who owns you?”
“You do, Meisterin.” The tone of his voice so tender.
“Good boy. Now lay on your back for me.” He maneuvers himself further onto the bed, rolling on to his back as he waited for your next move.
You go through one of the bags and find tape, nipple clamps, and a small pink vibrator. In one hand you hold the items and walk to the bed. With one finger you begin to flick his nipples, getting them hard. Once his pink nipples were erect, you place the clamps on them.
König winced slightly, but then bit his lower lip. “My little pain slut.” You giggle as you tug on the chain connected to the clamps. Standing off the bed, you walk around it, lightly hitting his abdomen with the riding prop.
König’s eyes are following your every move, watching as you walk in front of him and lift the skirt again, exposing his erection. Your hand wraps around it and begins to stroke his cock every so slightly. Spitting on it to lubricate it. König lets out shuttered breaths as you so this, the tip of his cock leaking even more precum.
Letting go, you get the small vibrator out, turning it on the first setting, then rubbing it on the underside of his cock’s head. His eyes go wide as he feels the vibration. He’s never tried touching himself with a toy before.
“You have to tell me which setting you like best.” You say as you switch through all five settings. On the third quick burst of vibrations, you see König begin to twitch.
“Tha- that one.” He manages to get out. “Bitte meine Meisterin.”
“Perfect.” The tape was easy to pull as you begin to wrap it around his boner, securing the vibrator to him. His legs twitch as he closes his eyes. A firm hand reaching down, grasping his jaw. “Open your eyes.”
He listens, his eyes instantly falling to your breasts. His mind fuzzy with the overwhelming sensation he is feeling right now.  Without breaking your eye contact, you climb up on to the bed and staddle his abdomen. You begin to grind your wet cunt along his solid belly, covering him in your arousal. A moan escaping your lips as König watches you do this with an intense gaze.
“Are you ready to eat my pussy?”
“Please Meisterin, please let me taste your pussy.”
“You’re being such a good boy.” Your legs move up until your lingering over his face, but facing to you can see his body. “Rub your nose in it.”
König uses his strong core to lean up and bury his aquiline nose deep into your pussy; taking in a deep breath as he does. Your smell is like candy to him, he can’t get enough. Slowly his tongue comes out and begins to lick between your pink folds. Thick globs of your creamy arousal being scooped up by his tongue.
In response you begin to rock your hips, matching his rhythm. Fingers going through his hair and pulling tightly. “Just like that.”
You lean forward and begin to stroke the shaft of him cock, his hips beginning to buck up into your hand rapidly. “Someone wants to cum…” You tease, feeling his head nod underneath you as he moans into your cunt.
“Will you cum for me?”
His hips begin to thrust quicker into your hand as his moans become louder. His tongue movements less precise and more erratic, like he is only focused on getting a taste and not actual pleasure for you.
“Good boy, cum for master.”
You lead forward so your ass if hoovering over his face instead of sitting on it. His balls tighten as his cock throbs. He tries his hardest to put his face back into your pussy while he cums, but you don’t give him that satisfaction. Toes curling as you leave him with only the view of your tight ass hole and creamy cunt.
His cock shoots out cum, the thick creamy cum falling on to your hand and his abdomen.
“Oh fuck!” König moans loudly. The vibration on the tip of his now extremely sensitive head was driving him wild. “Please, it’s too much now.”
A mischievous smirk crosses your face as you sit back down on his face. “Cum again for me."
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writingmeraki · 18 hours
Text
project : get the guy — enha hyung line smau.
project one : this is literally targeted hatred.
synopsis : chaos ensues when you're assigned to do a project with the four supposed "cool kids" of the university and even more chaos when apparently one of them likes you, just that you have no idea who. warnings : cussing, bit of baby slander (?)
word count : 2.4k
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"L/N Y/N."
Confusion flooded you as you thought Jungwon had called you but he wasn't in your class.
Keyword being thought.
You looked up from the bent position you'd previously been in due to texting on your phone and your eyes widened when you finally realized who had called you.
Now, Mr. Jeon was in no way a mean teacher, most of the time how he dealt with students was pretty lenient, so you couldn't help but feel guilty when he caught you doing not-so-fit for college things.
Which was right now.
Clearing your throat, you shoved your phone quickly into the side pocket of your bag firstly to make sure it wasn't what got confiscated.
"Y/N, tell me am I that boring for you to put your head down for almost 15 minutes."
Mr. Jeon looked at you while glaring and you scanned his face wondering how he had the patience to deal with students this early. It would certainly make his life easier if he chose another job but then again who were you to judge his career choices when you didn’t even know what you wanted to be?
Mumbling a small yes under your breath, you stood up and you smiled at him, one where your molars were grinding against each other.
"No…sir of course not! I was just…a bit unwell."
“The health center is always open, if you feel unwell, you can go there.”
If it were any other student, they’d probably be insulted and embarrassingly sit down. But you were not just any student especially nor was he just any professor.
You shrugged and were about to grab your bag, anyway ready to ditch the class. But he glared at you so harshly, that you just sat down quietly, not wanting to push his limits. He might just fail you, Jungwon’s words flashed through your mind.
“Sorry sir. I'll pay attention.”
You said it softly, biting your tongue for any snide remarks because you knew you'd only get in more trouble.
All your professors were great. You even behaved properly and they'd also be polite towards you. You just didn't understand why Mr.Jeon had such a problem with you.
Perhaps it was because you may have accidentally hit his car during that one time you were parking.
Or that one time you bumped into him and all his coffee spilled all over his white shirt.
Or that one time you made him trip when you'd kept your foot out while he was making rounds during a test.
Actually, he may have reasons to not favor you.
“Alright class. As previously mentioned I was rudely interrupted,” He quickly narrowed his eyes at you before he continued,
“You all will be given a project which will account for around 50% of your total grade for this course. This project is something where the process of how you handle it till the very end will also matter and not just the result.”
“And it is a group project.”
Groans could be heard and a few whispers and murmurs going around about taking people in the groups while you silently looked ahead.
This is where you felt a slight sense of regret for not making any sort of friends let alone acquaintances in this course.
It’s not that you were not a social person, you had your fair share of friends and even close friends. It’s just your social energy could only deal with so much and hence you decided to not make even more in a course where you probably would never see them again after the semester ended.
“I hope I don’t get you in my group again.” You heard someone say behind you while groaning and you turned your attention to him.
As cliche as it sounded, you paused a bit, eyes widening at the unrealistically pretty boy.
How did you not notice him before? Like ever?
You’d seen your fair share of attractive people, you were friends with said attractive people, but the guy in front of you was like attractive on another level.
“I deal with you enough in my life, not this time again.”
You turned your gaze to the other person he was speaking to.
You were sure if Niki was here, he'd definitely make fun of the way your eyes widened even more as you felt your jaw slack a little.
Since when did this class have attractive men?
Both of them looked like actual models, you couldn't even comprehend synonyms enough to describe them.
Mr Jeon cleared his throat which made you snap out of your weird daze, glad neither of them noticed you staring like a creep.
“And as much as I know you might hate me for this but the groups are already chosen. By me.”
It seemed the entire class collectively groaned in disappointment while someone like you was sort of happy because for one you weren't even sure who you would have been in a group with.
Although, you somehow hoped you'd get into at least one of the two hot guys. That is if fate was with you.
Mr Jeon smiled gently and continued,
“So what I'll be doing is giving you all a brief on what this project is. Then I'll list down the groups and member names, to which all of your members have to come upfront and take your material. Material which will soon arrive.”
That made most of the students perk up in curiosity including you. The university, despite making most students go into debt paying for the fees, rarely gave out materials without extra payment. It was ridiculous.
“This project is called ‘The Baby Project’ ”
You cannot believe you'll be playing with dolls in university but here you were.
"I suppose the majority of you would have this question, why? Well this course is about human psychology. As most of you would know. What will be observed in these four weeks is how the physical behavior and surroundings would affect the growth of a child in their brain development stage.”
“Another question you may have is why isn't it a set of two people, like parents. But for that, the issue is the number of students is more than what was expected hence you'll be in groups of four and due to odd numbers two or three groups will have five members.”
Of course the one time they provide materials, they don't have enough.
The classroom door was knocked on, to which you assumed a teaching assistant entered with a cart. Full of baby dolls.
It was actually pretty creepy with how realistic they looked.
“Your task is to simply take care of the child. Write reports on its behavior down to what you've been doing to take care of it. By the end, essentially we'll see how well developed your child has become and that would be your grade for the project.”
You were sure this was some sort of hatred towards you. You weren't a fan of children. You didn't hate them but you just mildly disliked them. Let alone toddlers who'd only scream, cry and throw up on you for no reason.
“Now before more of you start dozing off, I'll announce your group number, names and you all come and collect your child. Preferably, discuss a name in class and get it noted down by me.”
“Group one, Lee Soohyung, Kim Wonyooung, Sarah…”
Three more groups passed before it was your turn. Finally.
“Group four, Lee Heeseung, Park Sunghoon,”
You heard a low cheer and groan behind you,
“...Park Jongseong, Sim Jaeyun…”
You heard more cheers and sigh of either disappointment or relief you couldn't quite tell,
“...and what do you know? L/N Y/N.”
You blinked in disbelief. You were paired up with the pretty dudes? Did fate finally open up their chances to you?
“Did we really get that person who Mr.Jeon hates? We're going to fail what the fuck?”
Pause.
Your mini celebration was disrupted as you heard one of them whisper. Whisper about you more specifically.
“Please come and collect your child.”
You stood up, grabbing your bag and hooking it over one shoulder,turning a bit before snapping back at the guy who said that about you.
What a waste of a perfect face.
“You won't fail if you put in the effort.”
His eyes slightly widened when he heard you reply. He didn't know you heard, and felt a bit bad for saying that.
You turned forward, not paying attention to the rest, as you went near the place where the dolls were.
You didn't notice the four moving to stand besides you.
Turning to them, you calmly spoke,
“So we should introduce ourselves first I suppose.”
The first to speak up was the first pretty guy, and his voice matched his face, it was soothing and just…
“Lee Heeseung. Third year music student.”
A senior? Oh, he got even more attractive.
And the small smile he gave off after he spoke definitely did not help with your heart fluttering.
Another guy cleared his throat and it was pretty guy #2.
“Park Sunghoon. Second year psychology student.”
Your eyes widened a tad bit before you pointed out,
“Oh woah, same!”
“Really?”
“Yeah, second year psych.”
You smiled at him in content, glad you found someone who was having the same major.
“Uh, I am Sim Jaeyun but you can just call me Jake. Second year too but major in Physics!”
You really liked the sort of excitement he carried, it showed how he was a bit nervous but it was kind of…cute. And a physics major?! He was probably very intelligent.
In fact all of them were.
“I'm Jay. Park Jongseong. Second year culinary arts student.”
It was the guy who had some beef with you even when you didn't know who he was until now.
Too bad, such a good looking fellow had a weird prejudice issue.
You just nodded in acknowledgement at his introduction, trying your best not to roll your eyes with the way he spoke to you like you were just a bother in his routine. Dismissively and just merely out of convenience.
“Well. Nice to meet you guys, I think you must have figured out my name but yeah I'm Y/N, second year psych.”
Heeseung and Sunghoon nodded as they raised their hands to shake yours. You were a bit taken aback but you gladly shook their hands one by one.
Even Jay’s despite, and you may have squeezed his hand a bit tighter. Just a little for him to perhaps get a message.
“I see you've introduced yourselves.”
A voice spoke up from beside you, to which you internally groaned as you faced him.
Mr Jeon, was a psychologist. He was a teacher so it means he was a master in the subject because after all to be a teacher in anything, you have to be a master in it. He surely knew a fake smile when he saw one.
And you were wearing one right now as if your entire grade depended on it.
“Yes, yes we have.”
He turned towards the rest of your group, briefly smiling at them all and they were the typical college adults, smiling back awkwardly.
“Well, now pick your child and tell me the name, so you all can go as you please.”
“Right, yes, we're just doing that.”
To say the least, picking the child was something you didn't realize was as tasking.
Tasking because it seemed none of you could come to an agreement to choose which one.
Too creepy. Too ugly. Too dull.
“Guys. Come on, it's a fucking toddler. Just. Pick.”
As displeasing as you were to say it, you were glad Jay was able to control them. It seems it was something he did a lot.
Now that that daunting task was done. Another hassle comes. A bigger one.
Picking a name.
“Ethan.”
“No, we are not naming it your English name.”
“You have different names??”
“Bob.”
“I am not naming my child Bob, like what is that, a Bob cut?”
“Bob-bob cuts are hairstyles how is that even—”
“Jerry.”
“Wow, a mouse. You're so smart Y/N,”
“ If you don't shut the fuck up—”
After a whole bunch of disagreements, friendships almost breaking, a lot of seeing things you shouldn't in the first meeting, you finally got a name.
“Jaeyhoon.”
“What like a combo of Sunghoon and mine's name?” Jake asked to which you nodded and also added,
“Yes but Jay is there too, a Y after J-A-E. Fully spelt J-A-E-Y-H-O-O-N.”
“Hey! Where's my name there?” Heeseung asked to which you rolled your eyes at his pout. It was cute though.
“You can put your last name. Lee Jaeyhoon.”
And unexpectedly, Jay spoke up,
“And what about your name?”
“Uh I didn't think about adding mine.”
“How about its middle name? Lee Y/N Jaeyhoon.” Sunghoon said to which you actually didn't mind the sound of it.
Picking up the baby from the cart you raised it, “Welcome to the family Lee Y/N Jaeyhoon.”
It seemed as though it was happy with the name because next thing you know it's giggling to which you got slightly horrified and almost threw it out of your hands.
Luckily, Jay was there near you and was able to catch the child before any damage could be done right from the beginning.
“You should be more careful.”
“Sorry, sorry I didn't expect it…it to laugh.”
“It's not it, it's a he.”
You narrowed your eyes at his demeaning tone, about to retort when Heeseung waved his phone in front of you.
“We're going to be needing your number, so we'll create a group chat where we'll discuss how we go about this whole thing.”
You agreed by nodding and grabbed his phone. Typing in your number, you gave yourself a call so as to have his number.
“Okay. I think we're done for today aren't we? We can discuss what to do ahead after the lunch break?”
You didn't even realize it was almost 12 pm and your stomach grumbled in hunger.
“Righttt, well who's going to take the little human around for now? We can talk about what and how to go about after lunch?”
You asked around to which Sunghoon replied,
“How about we all just sit at the same table? Seeing we'll be talking afterwards anyways.”
Seems fair.
Though I should probably inform Niki, Sun, and Won.
“Sure, let's go then.”
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a/n : GUYS ITS UP🙏🙏 FINALLY. also yes this is very much more writing based but it's just for you all to get an idea/brief intro to the characters, further going it'll have less written and more smaus parts! ( I hope) don't worry next chap you won't need to wait 29921 days. also Jay alr having need with u liek 😭😭 anways I'll do my best to upload asap <3 let me know what you think of this!!
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taglist ( open ) : @strxwberry-skiess ; @whippedforbeomgyu ; @urszn ; @cha3w0n-hearts ; @cassie6392 ; @nicholasluvbot : @xiaoderrrr ; @eleanorheartschishiya ; @wonunuwoo ; @antonsgirlfriend ; @aygotnobitches ; @dimplewonie ; @hoeinthehouse ; @belovedsthings
all written works as well as images and edits (unless credited) belong to pri. do not plagiarise, repost, re-edit or claim as yours. pics mostly found on pinterest.
writingmeraki Ⓒ 2024
links : main navigation | enhypen masterlist | info
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anjelicawrites · 3 days
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have you ever written the first time poly!Aemond ate out reader 🧐
No, nonnie, but I am now!
It is strange not to have Osferth with you two. Not bad strange, simply peculiar, like walking on an unknown path and keeping all your senses focused.
NSFW and 18+ only please!
Warnings (oral F receiving, overstimulation, fingering).
You want to remember the figure Aemond cuts hovering over you, hair loose and eye patch still on; there's a part of yourself that wishes Aemond would trust you enough to let you see him whole, another that screams how much he believes in you and your feelings, by letting you worship his naked skin.
There's a thundering storm brewing outside, the lightning flashes through the huge windows of Aemond's condo and paints red the marks your lips have left on his body. He's panting over you, his mouth slightly agape, his whole weight carried by his strong arms; the pupil of his eye is completely expanded, giving him a desperate, hungry look. You know, without seeing it, that his cock is completely erect and leaking on the black sheets, but it's not what he wants.
"Yes, Aemond." You moan, arching under him, enticing him into following his desires.
He's the first time he's doing this, alone with you, without Osferth's guidance and cheers from the sidelines; he's supposed to know what he's doing, yet he feels his heart tremble, torn between need and fear of failure.
He feels your palms on his cheeks, lighter you hold his scarred side, mindful, always mindful and caring.
"You make me feel so good, Aemond." You murmur, heated and hungry. "You're so good."
His mind flashes back to what you two have been doing, to his lips leaving kisses and hickeys all over your skin, to your sinful cunt already wet when his fingers have brushed against your labia and the way you had moaned, wanton and ready; you made him hungry for you, for your taste, and he still is, ravenous for you. What if he can't manage?
You're squirming under him, he fancies he can see the drops of perspiration on your skin and that he still holds the phantom of your taste in his mouth. Careful he kisses a long path down your torso, following the love bites he's already left as your arch and offer yourself to him, to his soft lips and sharp teeth, light moans leaving your lips with every fleeting kiss he gives you.
You hear his groan when he reaches your mons pubis, his hands tremble when he slowly opens your lower lips, only to discover the tendrils of your wetness and need as you squirm under him and try to arch your mound closer to his lips.
"Please, Aemond!" You beg. "I need you, please baby!"
He moans when your fingers find home in his hair to gently guide him towards your center, before he gives your puffy clit a fast lick with the tip of his tongue that makes you grab at him tighter with a shrill cry of need.
Aemond's heart is beating like a drum in his chest he's almost positive you could hear it, yet he lays between your splayed legs and observes your hole clench desperately, for him.
It's heady the effect your desire has on him, it emboldens him with a rush of naked power he's never felt in his entire existence: you need him the same way he does you and the only thing he can do is honor this and mute the nasty voice in his head that's telling him he's going to fail.
He licks your clit with slow strokes, moaning at your taste, tangy and sweet on his tongue; he takes his time exploring you cunt, nibbling softly at your lower lips, kissing the inside of your tights, before his lips fasten around your clit, to suck, slowly, with long pulls as his hands grab your hips to keep you against his face. You squirm under him and push towards him, your legs useless over his shoulders flail uncontrollably as his movements become faster and deeper, as he moans his pleasure against you, making you tremble like a leaf and pull at his hair, the pain spurring him on to suck faster as your arch and stiffen, before you come all over his face. You abandon your body against his as he licks you clean with lewd sounds of pleasure.
You're still trembling when his tongue sneaks in your hole to slowly fuck you through your orgasm and you squeal his name, trying to dislodge yourself, to no avail: Aemond's hands are grabbing desperately at your moving hips, keeping you still for his slow exploration, enjoying the way your muscles tremble and clench around his tongue and his nose punishes your clit.
You try to dislodge his face, your feet push against his back to find leverage, and he simply latches to your poor clit again, fast now, hungry pulls of need and desperation that make you scream and cry out his name as he sucks and moans, torturing you with his own pleasure, with his palms against your hipbones keep you in place on the mattress as your hands scratch his head and your body fights the pleasure that comes barrelling towards you.
You're begging now that you've come again, pleading with him to let you have some respite; he's still so hungry for you, though, and drunk on your taste and smell that he just wants to drown into you, until there's no thoughts left in his head.
"No more, Aemond, please." You keen.
A part of him wants to stop, for your sake, another knows that you'd use your safeword (he's made you swear you will, he's not like Osferth who rarely needs one to know when it's the moment to stop), if you truly couldn't take it anymore.
He kisses the inside of your tights slowly, following the lines of your muscles, and up to your tummy, to give you a moment to catch your breath, but you can't fool him: your hole is still clenching, still hungry for him.
When he feels that your breathing has slowed, he breaches you with one long finger, and you moan, his big body the only reason you can't close your legs.
Patiently he explores your depths, moaning at the way you're strangling his digits, almost coming to the image of your cunt filled by his cock (too early, still too early, yet his mind wants to torture him). When he finds your G spot he massages it with slow movements, drinking down the way your hips follow his lead and wetness drips from your center. Your puffy clit is his next victim, his lips find their natural home again, to suck leisurely, following the rhythm of his fingers inside of you, while is free hand grabs yours, teetering you to shore, to him as you moan and squirm under him.
"Give me another one and I will stop, please just one more." He begs against your center.
His cock twitches painfully when you moan and arch, your consent a fleeting 'yes' that dies on your lips when he starts sucking on your clit again, slowly, letting your orgasm grow and grow as your cunt strangles his fingers painfully.
You keen and sob when he helps you ride your orgasm out and he almost comes untouched to the desperate sounds you're making; his drenched hand flies to his cock to jerk it fast, his own pleasure a whiplash through his whole being.
You cuddle next to him, basking in his warmth; now he's the one fighting to get his labored breathing under control. With a devious smile you grab his soiled hand and lick your combined comes, until you're fucking your own mouth using his digits.
"Gevie." He murmurs, feeling his cock twitch valiantly. "None of that, my love. Now it's my turn."
OG!Poly taglist : @fan-goddess, @notyour-valentine, @aegonx
Ewanverse taglist: @vhagar-balerion-meraxes @zaldritzosrose
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lilac-hecox · 2 days
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What I Read: Week of May 20th
Okay! So, I haven't done one in a while but I've really been trying to take a lot of joy in what others creator in our fandom so I have a supersized one of sorts for y'all!
Hypothetically Yes (Theoretically Forever) by @xxmoonch1ldxx - Ian/Anthony - Ianthony
Very cute and set around Shayne and Courtney's wedding but with Ian and Anthony talking about whether or not they would individually get married some day and how it sparks up some feelings. Short and sweet!
Fight like cats and dogs by ObsessedSM - Damien/Angel - Damangela
An interesting concept where Angela slowly realizes that she is crushing on Damien and vice versa. Some nice hurt/comfort and a cute support system. (Is in progress last time I checked)
Migraine by HGTV_Rerun -Shayne/Spencer - Shayncer
Short and sweet little hurt/comfort where Spencer has a migraine and Shayne cares for him at the office!
never really said that i loved you too by Anonymous - Angela/Amanda - Amangela
Little bit of miscommunication and hurt/comfort with some fluff and a happy ending! Amanda texts Angela. Angela believes it to be a drunk text.
Lorsque Nos Deux Âmes Se Mêlent by @xxmoonch1ldxx - Ian/Anthony - Ianthony
Spicy fic! Super hot PWP but totally worth a read!! A bottom!Anthony as well!
off to the races (got my love jumpstarted) by Anonymous - Amanda/Angela - Amangela
Crack fic where Amanda and Angela are horses. It is still SO good and Ian and Anthony are farmers??? It's cute! We love a good crack fic!
in another life, you and me were seals by Anonymous - Amanda/Angela - Amangela
Fluffy and sweet little Amangela that is soft and makes you feel good!
always together by @ancientvamp - Shayne/Chanse - Shaynse
A sweet little domestic fic about Shayne and Chanse discussing marriage, kids, all the cute domestic stuff!
outsiders inside the home that we built by smoshbrainrotanon (I believe this author is on tumblr but I can't recall their url off the top of my head so let me know if you know!) -Ian/Anthony - Ianthony
A song!fic but also deals with the emotions of Ian and Anthony during the split and regarding Defy.
Meetings on Memory Lane by TheLoreOfItAll - Ian/Anthony - Ianthony (Again I am pretty sure this author is on tumblr so if you know let me know!)
A fic that is sort of like a retrospective on Ian and Anthony and their memories. It is being updated! Well written and I love Ian's POV especially as a kid.
my only angel by spourtastic - Amanda/Ian - Amandian
It is in progress but a really interesting idea and I am an absolute sucker for anything Amanda and Ian!
A beautiful mess by @japhan2024 - Damien/Anthony - Antmien
Anthony is a vampire and he and Damien have a toxic relationship including the fact that Anthony is hung up on Ian. I love the trope of Anthony being hung up on Ian and the resulting angst of it all!! I also love blood drinking scenes.
A classic mistake by @japhan2024 - Shayne/Spencer -Shayncer
Centered around rehearsals for the Smosh the Sitcom it involves Shayne and Spencer practicing their kissing scene. I love the fact that it is based on the live show!
You Stay On My Mind (Can't Help But Keep You Close) by @xxmoonch1ldxx - Ian/Anthony - Ianthony
Spicy but based on a prompt of "I want to see all of you." and bottom!Ian and it is so sensual and hot at the same time!!!
Driven Batty by @chu-tea - Ian/Anthony -Ianthony
VAMPIRE ANTHONY! Written based on a discussion had in the quad squad server and Chu has a beautiful and familar way of writing that is a joy to read. A slow burn and stretches through the journey of Ian and Anthony's time together. In progress but so, so worth it!
Smosh in the Hunger Games by d_s_t_e - Gen Fic
A take on the Smosh Hunger Games episode but with more humor and written in an interesting script like format. In progress!
Fungi by Wydrochka - Ian/Anthony -Ianthony
The idea of Ian doing magic mushrooms for the first time with Anthony and Anthony caring for him through the trip. I've been craving this idea for so long so I'm glad to have read it!
so no one told you life was gonna be this way by spacetimeinspector - Krungle/Kevin (Ian/Amanda)
Based on the Smosh the Sitcom focusing on the scene where Krungle and Kevin almost kiss. This captures the vibe perfectly and is a really interesting concept!
be with me, alone with me by eunaseo - Amanda/Angela - Amangela
Angst and cheating but I love some good angst where it hurts in the best way possible. Amanda and Angela are in love but because Amanda is married they can't really be together.
you like that? by @bowcrary - Chanse/Tommy - Chommy - Bowcrary
Based around the Smosh the Sitcom. Insanely hot and sensual af like wow! Bottom!Chanse and a bit of a dommy top!Tommy. UGH. So good!!
Flirting With Disaster (Throwing Kisses After) by @xxmoonch1ldxx - Ian/Anthony - Ianthony
A fluff of sorts where Ian and Anthony realize they like each other and there is some mutual jealousy and want on both their sides.
The Beast Inside Of Me, He Knows How To Train A Bad Dog by @xxmoonch1ldxx - Ian/Anthony - Ianthony
Spicy and based on the idea of puppy play with Bottom!Puppy Anthony and a very toppy!Ian. HOT AS ALL HELL.
Previous Weeks!
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lemotmo · 3 days
Note
apparently some BT fan on Twitter sent Tim some 18 minute video on BT and string theory and some stupid shit for a couple that doesn’t even have 5 minutes of screen time and he shared it so now people are giving up not realizing Tim is an agent of chaos.
Hi Nonny. I have received about 8 asks about this in the last couple of hours. I have decided to only answer yours because you are the one who seems to know the most of what actually happened.
Okay, apparently I -once again- will have to take a couple of minutes from my precious fandom life to address something that isn't even worth addressing in the first place.
But fine. Whatever.
There is only two episodes left this season. Of course the showrunners want to create as much buzz around this as they can. They want people talking and speculating about the show and the ships. It generates engagement and views and that is the one thing they are after.
Someone sent Tim this video and he was most likely charmed that a fan took the time to make a long video about something he created, so he shared it. He is known to react to messages sent by fans, so nothing new there. But of course, it also has the added benefit that it creates extra buzz for the last two episodes.
Do I have to remind people that Tim willingly shared the 'Vertigo' poster as well? That one was Buddie positive. Now he has shared something that is more Buck/Tommy positive. He is simply trying to engage fandom.
Thirdly, I haven't seen the video myself, nor do I feel the need to go look for it. But apparently the cover of that video is something like: Did 911 find the perfect match for Buck? (the question mark being very obvious) Nowhere on that cover do they talk about Buck/Tommy. (Someone correct me if I'm wrong though.)
It is an interesting question to ask the shippers in general. Did he find his perfect match in Tommy? Or maybe... it's Eddie after all? It riles up both sides equally.
So Tim is once again trolling the fandom. He does this once in a while. I wouldn't put too much stock in it. It's all fun to speculate about, but everything has been filmed already. He has known for a while now where Buck's story is going and I wouldn't be surprised that it eventually collides with Eddie's story. They were always destined to meet somewhere in the middle. Why would anyone give up on them when we are so close? I'm not giving up. Are you giving up? Why on Earth would you do that?
In conclusion: Tim's mind works in mysterious ways. So let's all just sit back, relax and see what plays out on our TV-screens. I, for one, am excited for the last two episodes of the season.
So everyone please stop worrying so much over things you can't control anyway. None of this really means anything. The only thing that matters is what we will see in these last episodes. Just enjoy the show and keep on speculating, because that's what makes fandom a great place to spend time in.
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mystique-6 · 3 days
Text
Kinktober Day 10: Butt Stuff?(I refuse to use the name of the actual prompt as the title)
Summary: Astarion asks to try something very specific in the bedroom. Ailis agrees even though it makes her nervous.
Hello! My hyperfixation on Astarion has got me in the writing mood so I will be participating in Kinktober using @flightlessangelwings Kinktober list. The pieces may be part of a bigger fic(s). I have started the fic. If you like these pieces in this series, please consider checking out my main fic, This is Me Trying. (Can you tell I like Taylor Swift?) Either way, I hope you enjoy. I do plan on completing the 31 prompts though it will take me past October. I also have the fic posted on AO3.
Warning: Anyone under 18 do not interact. Please pay attention to the tag warnings below.
Tags: Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Lube, Enemas, Light Dom/Sub, Kissing/Gentle Kissing, Feelings Realization
Additional Notes: This fic involves Spawn Astarion and we are back to the sweet and soft version.
Disclaimer: I do not own anything from BG3.
            Ailis went to pick up the crate of washed dishes when she felt her ass be groped.  She whirled around to give the person a piece of her mind and found Astarion smiling at her.  He was clearly trying to stifle a laugh.
            “Hello, darling,” he said and then kissed her on the cheek.  She felt her aggravation slip away, but she didn’t want to completely let him off the hook.       
            “There are nicer ways to greet me, you know,” she said tersely.
            “I disagree,” he replied.  “Any chance to touch your perfect behind must be taken.”
            “I didn’t know it was you,” she huffed.
            “I don’t think Wyll or Gale would be brave enough to try it,” Astarion said with a smirk.  “Halsin might, but you most certainly would have heard him coming.”
            “Hmm,” she hummed and bent to pick up the crate again.  Astarion beat her to it.
            “I’ll get that for you,” he said and began to lead them back towards the center of camp.
            “You’re going to help with a chore?” she said.
            “Well, I am helpful like that,” he replied and she laughed out loud.
            “What do you want, Astarion?” she asked.
            “Darling, I’m hurt!” he exclaimed, though his broad smile suggested otherwise.  “Why would you assume I’d only offer help if I want something?”
            “Maybe because I have to badger you to complete camp chores when it’s your turn,” she said.  “If you’re offering me any kind of aid, then you want something.  Spit it out, Astarion.  What do you want?”  He set the crate don and pulled her by the waist into a kiss.  She smiled against his lips and snuggled in closer to him, wrapping her arms tightly around his torso.  When he broke off the kiss, he brushed a strand of her hair off her face and stared into her eyes tenderly.
            “I want to try something new with you tonight.  I’m not sure if it’s something you’ve done before,” he said.  The first time he’d said that to her, she’d scoffed and insisted there wasn’t much she hadn’t tried.  She’d been rather adventurous in her youth.  Her confidence had proven to be hubris.  She’d realized quickly that Astarion had much more sexual experience than her and there was quite a lot she hadn’t tried before.  He never once made her feel bad for not knowing something and he was always patient with her if she had concerns.  So, the prospect of trying something new with him now intrigued her.
            “What do you have in mind?” she asked, her heart fluttered with excitement and anticipation.  Astarion smiled as he noticed it and brushed his thumbs across her cheeks as he cradled her head in his hands and kissed her forehead.  She smiled.  He really wanted whatever was on his mind.
            “Have you ever tried anal sex?” he asked, doing his best to sound casual, but he was clearly anxious asking her.  Considering her racing heart nearly came to a dead stop at the question, she supposed she understood why he sounded a little hesitant.  She shouldn’t be shocked he was asking.  He’d never outright asked her before, or even said he wanted anal sex, but he’d hinted at it with words and touches.  She knew Astarion wanted in her ass.  She’d have thought, as a vampire spawn, he’d be more of a neck guy.  And right now, she really wished he was.  She wasn’t sure how she felt regarding anal sex.  She didn’t think it was wrong or anything, but the concept of it made her nervous.  That’s why she’d skirted around his hints before.  She couldn’t do that now that he’d outright asked her and was waiting on an answer.
            “No,” she said, drawing out the word.  “I haven’t.”  Astarion nodded, even though she knew he’d expected that answer.
            “Are you interested in trying it?” he asked.  He had his arms wrapped around her waist, but not so tightly she couldn’t break free of his hold.  He was giving her the choice to stay close to him or take space if she needed it.  For that reason alone, she didn’t pull away and reached up with one hand to gently tug at a white curl resting above his forehead.
            “I’m guessing you are?” she said, avoiding the question.  He smirked.  He knew what she was doing.
            “I’ve had anal sex before, Ailis.  Giving and receiving.  You know this,” he said.  She nodded.  She knew.  “I would like to try it with you, but I’m not sure how you feel about it, other than that it clearly makes you nervous.  Are you at all interested?”  She squirmed and tried to think of a way to divert the conversation, but her mind stayed blank.  She glanced at his expectant gaze and sighed.
            “I’ve never considered it before,” she said.  He didn’t look surprised.
            “Are you willing to consider it now?” he asked softly, running a hand gently up and down her back, trying to ease her tension.  She hesitated.
            “Won’t it be painful?” she asked, thinking about where his dick would breach.  The anus wasn’t the vagina.  It wasn’t designed to have anything go up it.
            “There may be some pain,” he admitted, “but with proper prep it shouldn’t be unbearable.”  She pursed her lips as she thought about it.  “Ailis.”  She glanced back at his face.  “Do you really think I’d suggest something that would cause you tremendous pain?”  That questioned settled it for her.
            “No,” she said.  “I don’t.  All right.  We can try it.”  He smiled widely at her and pulled her in closer for a kiss.
            “Meet me at our spot in fifteen minutes,” he told her and then hurried off.  She smiled fondly at his retreating figure until her eyes landed on the crate of clean plates. 
            “What an asshole,” she sighed, and grabbed the crate and headed back to camp.
            Fifteen minutes later, Ailis stepped into the abandoned building of the Last Light Inn that she and Astarion had essentially made their hook up spot.  He was already there, pulling a clean sheet over the mattress.  She saw he had supplies ready on the bedside table.  The bottle of oil didn’t surprise her, but she didn’t know what to think at the sight of the 2-liter bag attached to a tube and nozzle.
            “Hello, darling,” Astarion greeted her as he approached.  He pulled her into a kiss.  “Ready?”
            “I guess.  I’m nervous,” she admitted.  He gave her a soft smile and kissed her forehead.
            “That’s understandable, but you’re with a professional,” he said.  “I’ll make this a good experience for you.”  She smiled and leaned into his chest as she wrapped her arms around him in a hug.  His own wrapped around her torso and he squeezed her tightly against him.  He kissed the crown of her head and they stayed that way for a moment, both enjoying the other’s presence.
            “Okay,” she said, pulling a way.  “Let’s get started.”  His lips quirked up in an amused smile.
            “All right,” he agreed and lifted the 2-liter bag of water up off the nightstand.  “Let’s get started on the prep work.  Do you know what this is?”  She was about to shake her head, but then paled as realization hit her. 
            “Is that an enema?” she asked appalled.  Astarion put down the enema bag on the bed.
            “It is,” he said evenly.  She could tell her was trying to keep her from freaking out, but also giving her space to have an honest reaction.  That was probably the only reason why she didn’t flee immediately.
            “Why do you have that?” she asked.
            “It’s part of the prep.  Anal sex can be messy.  Taking an enema first can fix that problem,” he explained.
            “So, you want me to…” She broke off.  She couldn’t finish that sentence.  “Is it really necessary?”
            “It is for me,” he said.  “I’ve had to deal with the mess before and it’s never been my choice.  I won’t do this without you taking the enema.”  His voice was firm, but he wasn’t arguing with her, or trying to be difficult.  He was just setting a boundary.  But his boundary was pushing at one of her own.
            “I…” She didn’t really know what to say.
            “Ailis, have you ever had an enema before?” he asked.  Her face turned tomato red.  Her instinct was to deny it, but instead she nodded, while at the same time, wrapping her arms tightly around herself in a self-soothing hug.  “I take it that it wasn’t a good experience.”  He said it softly.
            “It was not,” she said stiffly.  “I don’t want to talk about it.”
            “I’m not going to make you talk about it, but I would like to understand why you are so averse to it,” he replied.  “Did it cause you pain?  Were you…”
            “It was embarrassing, okay?” she snapped.  “I felt shamed over it for weeks!”  She found herself pulled into a tight hug.  She slowly felt her tension ease and she unwrapped her arms from her own torso to wind around his.
            “I’m sorry you were made to feel shame over it before,” he murmured softly in her ear.  “I don’t know who administered one to you before, an old lover or your mother, but you didn’t deserve to be made to feel bad over it.”  He tipped her chin up to make eye contact with her.  “I promise I won’t do that to you.  We’ll get it done and over with and move on to more enjoyable activities.  It won’t be brought up outside of here.”  She believed him, but she still hesitated.  He played with a loose strand of her hair.
            “We also don’ have to do this, Ailis,” he said.  “It’s okay if you change your mind.”
            “But you want this,” she said.
            “I do,” he said, “but not at your expense.  We can do something else that you’re more comfortable with.”  She buried her face in his chest and he ran his hands soothingly up and down her back and stamped an occasional kiss to the top of her head.  She sighed after a moment and pulled back.
            “How do you need me positioned to administer it?” she asked.
            “You’re certain, Ailis?” he asked and she nodded.  “All right, then.  Come to this side of the bed and lie on your side facing the door.  Remove your pants and undergarment first.”  She did as he directed.  He adjusted her to be centered a little closer to the middle of the bed, and then hooked the enema bag to the bedpost.  She started to roll over onto her stomach and raise her hips, but he stopped her.
            “You don’t need to get in that position, darling,” he told her softly.  He gently pushed her right leg up until her knee was parallel to her chest.  She saw him reach for the oil and knew he was putting some on the nozzle.  She jumped when he fingers spread some oil around her entrance, and then tensed when she felt the nozzle nudge at it.
            “I need you to relax,” Astarion said soothingly.  “Take a deep breath for me.”  She did as he said and felt some of her tension ease from her.  At the same moment, she felt the nozzle slide into her and she made a face.  It didn’t hurt, but it was uncomfortable.  And if this was uncomfortable, she couldn’t imagine how his dick would feel.  Her thoughts broke off from that though, when she felt water begin to flow into her.  She flinched and Astarion immediately climbed into bed behind her and pulled her back to his chest while murmuring words of encouragement in her ear.  She tried to focus on the words he was saying, but it was hard to focus on anything other than the odd sensation of watering flowing into her.  Her stomach began to feel full and tight and suddenly a cramp ripped across her lower abdomen.  She whimpered, and the flow of water stopped.  
            “Cramp?” Astarion asked.  She nodded and squeezed her eyes shut as another rolled through her.  Astarion lowered a hand to her distended abdomen and massaged it, trying to ease the cramp.  She sucked in a few deep breaths and finally her muscles relaxed.  “That’s it.  You’re doing so well.  You only have half left.”
            “There’s still that much left?” she whined.  He kissed her cheek.
            “It’ll be over soon, Ailis,” he assured her.  She sighed, but nodded, and he unclamped the tube.  She grimaced as the water began to flow again.  She began to curl in on herself as another cramp tore at her abdomen.  She felt Astarion reach for the clamp again, but she stopped him.
            “Leave it.  I want this over with sooner rather than later,” she said through gritted teeth.
            “But you’re in pain,” he replied.
            “I’ve felt worse.  Just let it empty,” she growled.  He sighed, but left the clamp alone.  He moved his hand back to her abdomen and tried to tub out the cramp.  After another moment the water stopped.  “Is it done?”
            “Yes, but I want you to try and hold it for fifteen minutes,” he replied.
            “What?  Why?” she cried.
            “To ensure your entire system is cleared out,” he said and she groaned.
            “Fine,” she agreed sullenly.
            “Do you want me to remove the nozzle?” he asked.  “You might feel more secure with it in.”
            “No, I want it out,” she said insistently.
            “Of course, darling,” he replied and she felt him gently ease it out of her.  She immediately curled up into a ball.  He curled around her and stroked her hair.  She tried to breathe her way through cramps, but they kept increasing and it wasn’t long before she felt the urge to go.
            “How long has it been?” she asked.
            “Five minutes,” he answered.  She whined.
            “I have to go,” she complained.
            “Try to hold it a little longer, Ailis,” he told her.  “Ten minutes isn’t as long as it feels.”
            “Easy for you to say.  You’re not the one dealing with these cramps,” she grumbled.  He kissed the top of her head.
            “You’re almost done,” he assured her.  She muttered a few curses under her breath and he laughed.  She tried to focus on his hands gently stroking her wherever he touched rather than on the cramps, but she was fighting a losing battle.
            “I can’t!” she cried.  “I need to…I’m going to…”
            “All right.  It’s all right, darling.  Go,” he said and she shot off the bed and out the door.  She didn’t even take the time to slip on her pants.  She just hoped none of her companions were around to see her. 
            About twenty minutes later, she rejoined Astarion in the abandoned building.  She saw he’d cleaned up and put away the enema equipment and she felt immensely grateful to him.  He looked up at her cautiously from where he sat on the bed and held his arms out to her.  She rushed into them and he pulled her down on his lap for comfort.  She buried her face in his neck and he held her tightly as he began to rock her.  It wasn’t long before she felt her nerves were soothed and she remembered why she’d agreed to that particular prep work.  And although she still felt nervous over it, she decided to move the night forward.
            She stamped a kiss to his neck and then his jaw and then the corner of his mouth.  When he started to smile, she kissed him deeply, moving a hand up to frame his face while the other tangled in his hair at the base of his head.  He held her tighter in return.  When the kiss finally broke, she leaned back and removed her shirt and upper garment.  She reached for the base of his shirt, but he grabbed her hand and stopped her. 
            “Not yet, darling,” he said and pressed a kiss to her palm.  “There’s certain logistics that need to be discussed.”
            “Such as?” she asked nervously.
            “I know you typically like to be face to face during the act, but it might be physically easier on you if I enter from behind,” he said cautiously.  She hesitated.  Since they had found their spot at the Last Light Inn, they had been able to expand upon sexual positions they enjoyed as she was less likely to be triggered looking down on a mattress than dirt that reminded her of her trauma.  That being said, her nerves were on fire.  She wasn’t sure she liked the idea of not being easily able to see his face.
            “I’m not sure,” she replied.  “I don’t know if it’s a good idea.” 
            “Do you think you can manage it while I prep you?” he asked.  “I’m not trying to push your boundaries, Ailis.  I just want to make this as easy on you as possible.”
            “I think I can handle that,” she said hesitantly and he kissed her again.
            “Stand up for a minute for me, darling,” he ordered and she obeyed.  She watched as he removed his shirt and then adjusted the pills on the bed.  When he had them how he wanted them, he guided her down onto the bed.  He maneuvered her so her hips rested on a pillow, raising her ass in the air.  He’d also arranged a pillow for her to hold onto if she wanted.  She wasn’t normally inclined to grasp onto her hide moans in a pillow, but tonight she thought there was a chance she’d need to.  She squeezed the pillow and tensed when she saw him take the jar of oil from the nightstand.
            “I need you to relax for me, darling,” he said, running a soothing hand up and down her spine.  “Take a few deep breaths.”  She did as he said and slowly relaxed.  She heard him uncap the bottle and then he parted her cheeks so he could access her more easily.  She stiffened again when she felt a cool, wet finger press against her puckered hole.  He pressed a kiss to the bottom of her spine and she took another deep breath as he played around her entrance, applying pressure, but not yet breaching it.  As she got used to the sensation, she finally relaxed completely and that’s when he pushed in.  She squawked at the foreign sensation as he slowly pushed into her and tensed.  She felt every groove in his finger as she clenched around it.
            “Are you all right?  Does this hurt?” he checked in.
            “It doesn’t hurt,” she replied.  “But it…it feels weird.”
            “Good weird or bad weird?” Astarion asked and she looked over her shoulder to see him grinning in amusement.  She scowled.
            “Just weird,” she replied tersely.  His free hand soothingly massaged the back of one of her thighs.
            “You’ll get used to the feeling,” he promised.  “I know if can be shocking the first time.  Now try and relax again, darling.  I can’t move without hurting you while you’re this tensed against me.”  She listened and took a few deep breaths.  This time, she also fantasized over their post-coital cuddling and her muscles eased up faster. 
            “That’s good, darling,” he praised and began to move his finger inside her.  Her brows furrowed at the strange sensation, but after a while, she did grow accustomed to his exploratory thrusts.  And it wasn’t awful.  She could feel a spark of interest between her legs, but the interest died when she felt another finger at her entrance.  He began to slide a second finger in with the first, and this time, there was pain.  She tensed and the pain sharpened as she stretched around his fingers.  She let out a sputtering gasp, and he stopped.
            “You need to relax, darling.  You’ll only make this painful if you’re this tense,” Astarion said. 
            “I tensed because it hurts,” she panted between quick breaths. 
            “It can be a little painful at first.  It shouldn’t be unbearable though.  I’ll use more oil,” he told her and removed both fingers.  She took the moment to suck in a few deep breaths and almost managed to relax before both fingers were at her entrance again.  They slowly pushed in, but even with the extra oil, there was still a slight pain from the stretch.  She focused on her breathing and tried to set her mind on a fantasy of the them together, but she couldn’t fully ignore the odd feeling of his fingers dragging against her inner walls in a part of her body she was growing more and more sure of that he didn’t belong in.
            “Tell him to stop then,” a voice inside her head said.  She opened her mouth to do so, but stopped.  This was something Astarion really wanted.  He’d asked her for this, and despite always being the one in charge of their sexual escapades, he rarely asked for anything.  She had to at least give it a fair chance, and in her opinion, two fingers were not a fair chance.  Two fingers were barely a chance at all.  So, she continued to draw in shallow breaths until his fingers were pushed fully inside her.  He stopped moving and she tried to focus her mind on anything but the ache caused by his fingers inside her.
            Thankfully, he also wanted her mind on something else.  He leaned over her and kissed her cheek.  He trailed kissed up to her ear and sucked the lobe into his mouth.  She gasped and couldn’t help a slight thrust of her hips.  The movement caused him to move inside her, but he didn’t give her a second to think about the slight pain it caused.  He used his free hand to brush her hair off her neck and began to kiss and nibble his way down her neck.  He then moved to a shoulder blade and pressed a soft kiss to it before he bit down, though not hard enough to break skin.  This time when she thrust down, there was enough friction to tease her clit and a spike of pleasure went through her so strong that even his fingers inside her felt good and she moaned.
            She felt him smile against her shoulder, and he started to move his fingers inside her again.  There was a slight sting as he pumped and scissored her open, but she was beginning to enjoy the feeling.  She experimentally thrust her hips back towards him and groaned as his fingers sunk impossibly deeper insider her. 
            “Mmm.  Yes.  That’s it, darling,” he practically purred.
            “Harder,” she ordered and he laughed but obeyed.  He thrust harshly into her a few times and she chased after her please as she thrust into the pillow and then back on his fingers.  She let out a frustrated whine when he removed his fingers completely.  She opened her mouth to complain, but her jaw snapped shut when she felt three fingers prodding at her entrance.  She tried to remain relaxed and focus on the pleasure she’d been feeling, but she couldn’t even think to move her hips to get friction as the sharp, burning sting returned worse than ever as he stretched her wide.  She bit her lip as her eyes watered and tried to bear it, but the pain worsened the deeper he went and she whimpered, feeling a tear spill over and down her cheek.  He immediately removed his fingers. 
            “Okay, Ailis.  I’m stopping,” he said in a soothing tone.  He tried to help her roll over, but she resisted.
            “No.  I’m fine,” she said, quickly brushing the tear away.  “You can continue.”  She glanced over her shoulder and saw him frowning.
            “Ailis, you clearly don’t like this,” he said.
            “I was enjoying it a minute ago.  I just need to adjust.  Now, come on,” she urged, raising her hips up to put her ass on display, trying to tempt him back into sex.
            “Ailis, sit up,” he ordered and she sighed.  She shifted onto her side and rested her head on her hand so she could look up at him.  He brushed a strand of hair out of her face and gave her a soft look.  “Why are you trying to force yourself through this and why do you want me to let you?”
            “You asked to try this,” she said, frowning.
            “Yes.  And you agreed to it,” he said, “but you aren’t enjoying this.”
            “I was enjoying it a few minutes ago.  I just…”
            “You were enjoying humping against the pillow,” he said.  “You were tolerating me fingering your ass.”  She scowled.
            “I didn’t tell you to stop, so why are you?” she snapped.  “You have the go ahead.”
            “Why would I want to keep doing something you’re not enjoying?” he said.
            “You like anal sex,” she said.
            “Yes, but I like you more and you don’t,” he replied looking completely baffled by her obstinance.
            “You asked for this.  You almost never ask for anything when it comes to sex,” she cried.  “So, I need to give this a fair chance.”  He stared at her with wide eyes and tugged his hair with his hands before taking a deep and unneeded breath.
            “I think you’ve given it a fair chance, Ailis,” he said gently.
            “A few fingers aren’t a fair chance,” she argued.
            “I think it is,” he said.  Angry tears filled her eyes.
            “Well, I don’t,” she replied.  “It’s not a fair chance until you get your dick in me and actually fuck me.”  The tears spilled over.  He brushed them away before she could.
            “I think we should stop, Ailis,” he said softly.
            “No,” she refused.  He sighed, but nodded.
            “I’m only going to agree to continue if you accept my bargain, all right?” he said.
            “What bargain?” she asked.
            “If you aren’t enjoying it after I’m inside you after three thrusts, we’re putting an end to this,” he stated firmly.  “I think we should put an end to this now, but I will continue against my better judgement if you agree to this bargain.”
            “Ten thrusts,” she bargained.
            “Five,” he returned with a sigh.
            “Eight.”
            “Five, Ailis,” he said.  “No more.”
            “Fine,” she snapped.  “Five.”  She flopped back over on her stomach.  He snorted.  She waited for him to resume prepping her, but he draped himself over her back and grabbed her arm and then brought I down underneath her and settled her fingers over her core. 
            “Touch yourself,” he ordered.
            “W…what?” she said.  He pressed their entwined hands down so her fingers put pressure on her clit.  She gasped.
            “Touch yourself,” he repeated, practically growling in her ear.  She mewled and began rubbing circles over her clit.  He removed his hand as she began to work herself over.  His fingers returned to her entrance.  She hesitated for a second.  “Don’t stop, Ailis.”  She continued and he sunk one, then two fingers back inside her.  She groaned, but any discomfort she felt was outweighed by the pleasure from the attention she was giving to her clit.  He thrust his fingers in her once, then twice, and on the third thrust, she pushed her hips back to meet him.
            The next time she felt him at her entrance, three fingers breached her.  The burn returned, but she continued to play with herself and after a moment, the burn eased and she fucked herself back on his fingers as he pushed into her and scissored her open.  Suddenly, he removed all fingers and she whined in complaint.
            “Sorry, darling, but I believe you wanted a change of position,” Astarion teased, rolling her over onto her back.  She reached up for him to pull him into a kiss and he humored her.  When he pulled away, he reached for the pillow under her and tugged it until she was positioned how he wanted her, with her hips lifted up off the mattress.  He removed his pants and undergarment and she saw his thick and turgid cock and felt a spark of anxiety.  It was far larger than three fingers.
            “You’re not going to fit,” she said.  He smirked, and she could tell he was stifling a laugh.
            “I’ll fit,” he assured her.  “Are you ready?”  She wasn’t sure, but she nodded.  His cocked lined up to her entrance and began to push in.  The burn was worse than each time before.  She bit her lip to keep from whimpering, but she couldn’t help a tear from escaping.  “I can stop, Ailis.”
            “We agreed on five thrusts,” she ground out through gritted teeth.
            “But if this is unbearable for you…”
            “It’s not.  Continue,” she ordered.  He sighed.
            “Try to relax.  And keep touching yourself, Ailis.  I didn’t tell you that you could stop,” he said.  She groaned and did as he ordered, increasing pressure on her clit to combat the burn as he pushed into her until finally, he bottomed out.  She panted as she tried to adjust to him.  Astarion was large.  Even vaginally, he was a lot to take, but she didn’t think she ever felt so full as she did right now.  She used the arm she wasn’t using to pleasure herself to wrap around his waist to keep him close.  He kissed her damp cheek and then slowly began to slide out.  He pulled back only about halfway, before slowly thrusting back in.  She took a deep breath and bore another two thrusts.  On the fourth her drew back farther, and she wrapped a leg around him and pushed at him when he thrust in, forcing him somehow even deeper inside her.
            They both groaned, and Astarion stopped holding back.  He pulled all the way out, and then shoved back in.  She felt the burn of it, but the sensation was almost pleasurable now.  The next time he thrust in she pushed forward to meet him.  One of his hands found hers and forced it to the mattress by her head, and held it there gently with his own.  They kissed sloppily, though passionately as they moved together, panting into each other’s open mouths as they joined together.  Ailis felt his rhythm start to falter and knew he was about to cum.  She was nearly there herself.  Tension was building in her core.  Sparks of pleasure shooting off like electricity as she played over her clit.  Muscles in her thighs and core were twitching and she felt her cunt start to clench.  She increased the pressure on her clit and her body jerked as she went over the edge.  All thought seeped from her mind as the world around her faded. 
            When she came back to herself, she noticed Astarion had stopped moving.  He laid across her torso, and was pressing gentle kisses to her neck.  She could feel him still inside her, though he was soft now.  He’d also found release.  She lifted a hand and carded it through his now messy, white curls.  He smiled against her jugular and then pushed himself up so he could look at her face.
            “How are you feeling, darling,” he asked.  His smile was fond and relaxed, but she saw caution and worry in his eyes.  She cupped his face in her hands and gently pulled him down to her for a deep and languorous kiss.
            “Never been better,” she replied when the kiss ended.  He smiled and stroked her cheek.
            “Did you like it though?” he asked.  “And don’t lie to me.  Please.”  She hesitated, and thought over her response.  She didn’t hate it, but…
            “Maybe we can relegate it to special occasions,” she said.  “When is your birthday?”  He laughed and kissed her again.  When he pulled back this time, he also pulled out of her and she winced.  He immediately moved down her body to inspect her entrance.  She grimaced as he probed a her gently for a moment.
            “No tears,” he told her.
            “I didn’t think there would be,” she said.  “You said you’d make this a good experience for me.”  He smiled and they kissed again before he rolled off of her and then pulled her back against his chest.  His arms wrapped snuggly around her.
            “Thank you for this,” he murmured in her ear.  She smiled, and snuggled back against him, trying to eliminate any space between their skin.  She started to drift off to sleep when suddenly her eyes shot open wide ad her heart began to pound against her ribcage.  The cold, icy grip of fear latched onto her as she realized what she’d been trying to suppress for weeks now.  What she felt was the absolute truth.  This was no longer a fling to her.  She loved him…and that terrified her. 
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