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#on the other hand this is my excuse to draw faces </3
deadbaguette · 1 day
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I don't want to be repetitive but I love how you make the characters so tender and loving,,, so here's a weird request, do you have any scars hc? I mean, do (insert character) hide them? Or let their lover kiss and caress them? Oh, which characters I mean you say? Your pick, have fun!
It’s not repetitive at all 🥹 I love LOVE LOVE it when people describe my art as tender and loving because that’s absolutely my favourite thing to draw. But omggg scar headcannons … you just spoke to a specific part of my brain bcs I love thinking about scars, beauty marks, etc. I don’t have the time to make a fully fleshed out scar map, BUT alongside a small doodle for the character I have a definitive scar map for (Diomedes) I can share all the scars I hc and how they’re treated :D AUUGSGDH thank you for giving me the excuse to do this I always have so answering your asks <3
Scar hcs:
Firstly I think the only character I have a set in stone scar hc for is Diomedes! I draw him more often than I would like to admit, so the ones on his face are: one across his left eyebrow, one by his lip/mouth, one across the nose, one on the right cheek, one on the shoulder, one on the foot. He is the most scarred character I draw, and this is largely due to the fact that I hc him (it’s probably also to an extent canon) as reckless in battle. He’s not a pristine clean warrior, he’s all too familiar with blood and war. He carries the reckless scars he gained in Thebes with the other Epogoni throughout his adulthood, and for so long they served as a reminder of where he came from. Death and violence that’s haunted him throughout his entire life, and these scars are symbols of that. So, what’s a few more to gain in Troy? It’s not like it’ll make him look any less battle scarred if he gains a few more. He hasn’t had a good reason to care about his life until now, scars not only remind him of that but also make him feel like he can’t change it. But… I like to imagine the people that care for him (whether this be Odysseus, Sthenelus, or in an AU Penelope) treat them with such delicacy and care that it almost creates an entire other association for them. Sthenelus gently tending to a wound that will surely scar, so that when it does heal it no longer carries the association of a mistake in battle but instead a tender moment shared between them and them only. Odysseus and Penelope kissing the scars on Diomedes’ face is their favourite pasttime, because if he won’t love them (he feels indifferent to them), they absolutely will. A tender kiss to the cheek, a gentle kiss to just above his eye, a quick peck against the side of his mouth, a loving press against his nose that they would have to tiptoe to reach. Diomedes never felt any love, hatred, or feelings in general towards his scars. He never made any more to hide them, he wore what was convenient. If his new scars weren’t covered by the clothes he would wear, so be it. But in a way he’s grown to love them, or at least the memories and feelings they hold.
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Will be more hcs below the cut!
Achilles is very unscarred. Like the only scar on his body by the time he was dead was the one on his heel. Patroclus is also relatively unscarred, but he has a few. There is one on his hand that Achilles loves to kiss, but like in a very specific way. I hc Patroclus to almost always the one to initiate the physical contact, and he tends to cradle Achilles’ face with his hand (literally one of my fav form of physical touch) and Achilles always leans into it and kisses the scar on his hand. Patroclus never really liked his scars, so he tends to cover them up. But I think I believe Achilles loved wholeheartedly every part of Patroclus and movements he’s spent with him and vice versa. Every scar he’s gained will have a story to tell, so even if Patroclus doesn’t show it to others, there is a story that Achilles will hear. It would be something as dramatic as gaining it in battle or something as small as “you got this when you fell from a tree? I love it.” They’re as much friends as they are lovers, and they actively choose to continue to be in each other’s lives. If this means sitting together recounting the tales of how Patroclus nicked himself carving wood a few years ago and scarred, so be it.
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Hector… I need to talk about this one!!! So normal and sane about him. He’s undoubtedly scarred, what with him fighting at the front but he’s no Achilles. Hector hides his scars but not because he’s ashamed of them, it’s quite the contrary because he in a strange way enjoys looking at them, but rather that he knows it causes his family worry. Hector loves his family so much, and he sees the worry and sadness in their eyes when he comes back with new scars to Andromache. How she’ll stare at them like it’s another piece of him lost, and it won’t be long until he is wholly gone too. He hides them so she can focus on the him that’s there now, and comforts her saying that he will come back to her. When Kassandra looks at the new scars on his chest and she can’t help but sigh. She told him to be more careful, but truly in the end they’re both fighting a fruitless fight against the fates. Kassandra knows this, and she keeps count of how many her brother has until he gains his last lethal one. He’s hiding them so as to not cause his sister distress. She knows he will never believe her if she tells him what will happen to him, but she cannot help but mourn for the living man.
Agamemnon has quite a few scars. He’s the lord of men, the shepard of the people, and wealthy beyond what he needs. The scars don’t mean much to him, and if anything they’re even more a testament to his power. He’s no Achilles who can come out of battle unscarred, but perhaps that’s the difference in what makes him the leader of the Achaeans. The scars he bears are a symbol of his humanity and but don’t take away from his power and image. He SURVIVED these scars. But deep down? I do think it’s a little more complicated than this. I don’t think I’ve discussed Agamemnon that much, but I do find his character really interesting. His family name is uhh tarnished to say the least, but throughout all of it he’s had his brother with him. Agamemnon cares a lot about Menelaus, he goes to war for him, he sacrifices his daughter for him, and they endure 10 years of war together. Agamemnon maybe doesn’t care about his own, but he remembers every scar Menelaus has. Like that one scene in book 3 yk where he just starts doing all the dramatics of MENELAUS I WILL AVENGE YOU MY DEAR BROTHER and Menelaus is just sitting there… ever so slightly wounded… being like brother it’s fine and Agamemnon still goes like MACHAON DROP EVERYTHING AND TEND TO HIS WOUND IMMEDIATELY I WILL SLAUGHTER THESE DISHONOURABLE TROJANS FOR DARING TO LOOK IN YOUR DIRECTION MENELAUS. It’s just kinda silly and sweet how much he cares about his little brother. Ever scrape Menelaus got growing up I imagine it was Agamemnon tending to it, and remembers them all to prevent him getting hurt further. As an older brother, he made it his sworn duty to make sure Menelaus grew up strong and out of harms way.
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non-un-topo · 1 year
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could i please get some of nicky and joe dancing please <3?
You certainly can, my friend! <3
I may have accidentally made it a little angsty (and they look like they're not dancing rip but I promise they are)
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nebulaafterdark · 3 months
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The Rats (Pt. 3)
Aegon ii x Velaryon(Strong)! Reader
Summary: Aegon attempts to make peace with Rhaenyra after being forced to usurp her throne. Lucerys’ death complicates things.
18+ ONLY, MDNI. Targcest, smut, angst, violence. S2 SPOILERS
Part 1 | Part 2
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“With free reign of King’s Landing, Aemond will focus his attention on the occupation of bast-” Aegon’s face flushes bright red. “Harrenhal.” He corrects himself, “and the extermination of house Strong.”
“What did you call it?” Daemon arches a brow.
“Harrenhal,” Aegon repeats.
“Before that,” Daemon prods.
Aegon sighs, looking to his wife.
“Bastardhal.” Y/N rolls her eyes.
“My brother’s term of endearment.” He explains, “a slip of the tongue.”
“Mmm,” Daemon hums. “Perhaps allegiance to your brother runs deeper than you let on.”
“I have left my siblings and abandoned my post to be here. I remain loyal to Rhaenyra’s claim and her line of succession. What else would you have me do?” Aegon scoffs.
“There are a number of things.”
“If you refuse to believe that Aegon is loyal to our queen, believe that he is loyal to me and I am loyal to my mother.” Y/N takes a protective step in front of her husband.
Daemon’s jaw ticks, frustrated and teetering near sanity’s edge. “You then, are responsible for his indiscretions.”
“I take full responsibility.” Y/N agrees, “he is here for me.”
“Perhaps he might further demonstrate his loyalty.”
“And how, do you suggest, I do that?” Aegon wonders.
“Deliver us your brother’s head on a platter.” Daemon sneers.
“Mother!”
“Am I wrong, Rhaenyra?” Daemon scoffs.
“That is enough!” The Queen slams her fist against the table. “Thank you, Aegon for the information you provided. We will coordinate with our army and send reinforcements to Harrenhal. We will send word to Cregan Stark-”
“By raven?”
“However I see fit, Daemon. Stay your hand.” Rhaenyra snaps. “You are all excused.”
Aegon is out the door just as swiftly.
Y/N flinches as it slams behind him.
Jacaerys remains stoic in the corner, saying nothing for a long while as his mother and step father begin bickering. “Sister,” he nods toward the hallway.
Y/N returns the gesture, following him out past the royal guards. “The nerve of him.” She is fuming as they begin strolling the grounds.
“That is Daemon.” Jacaerys breathes. “Pay him no mind.”
“It’s not as if I don’t want Aemond’s head. Luce is our brother, for the gods’ sake.”
Jace swallows, mouth set in a firm line. “He was our brother.”
Was…is he not anymore?
“In these dealings with Aemond, you must remember that killing him will not bring Luce back.”
“It would be even.”
“A son for a son was also even.” Her brother reminds her. “Your grievance with it hath brought you here.”
“I should have allowed the murder of a child?”
“I did not say that.”
“Then what are you saying?”
“What is even is not always right, I expect you know that by now.”
“Indeed.”
“Ravens will take too long.” Jacaerys laments, “but mother will not let us deliver messages anymore. It is a shame that our safety comes at the expense of other’s.”
Y/N draws in a steadying breath. “Pity.” She turns away, in the direction of her chambers. Aegon is waiting for her there, sipping from a pitcher of wine. “Did they not give you a cup, my darling?”
“Hmm,” Aegon hums into the container, “of course.” He lowers the pitcher from his mouth, “but this is faster.”
The princess puts a hand to her head.
“I am not a dog that’s been kicked, do not look at me that way. As if I am weak.”
“I love you and you are hurting.” Y/N sighs, “I do not know how else to look at you.”
Aegon mulls this over for a moment. “I did not mean to call it bastardhal.”
“I know that.”
“You are not a bastard.” He presses on, “I am sorry for ever calling you one.”
“You are forgiven.” It is nothing more than a word. It cannot harm her anymore.
“If no house would claim you, then I would.”
Y/N gives him a sad smile, “thank you, Aegon.”
“You think I jest? Or does it simply mean nothing coming from me?”
“It means everything coming from you,” Y/N takes a step toward him. “Forgive me if I have made it seem-”
“No,” Aegon shakes his head, “forgive me. I am lost in this. I mustn’t take my frustration out on you.”
Y/N cups his face in her hands. “If you are loved by no one, know you are loved by me.“
“Without you I have nothing.” He reaches a shaky hand out, stroking her hair, reverently. “I am nothing.”
She draws back, searching his eyes. “That is not true.”
“If you ask me to slay my brother, I will do it.” Aegon breathes.
Y/N presses her lips together. She had not asked, Daemon did. But Aegon does not bend to Daemon’s will, only hers.
“Please do not ask.” He murmurs with wide, sad eyes.
Y/N cannot stand to see him cry. It tears at the depths of her soul. She wraps her arms around him, “I will not ask.”
Aegon clings to her. “I would do it.”
“I know, my love.” Y/N presses kisses to the side of his face. She knows his sadness, the burden of being least loved by everyone else. Some part of him will always seek to win her approval, her affection… her love.
He is pawing at her then, at the laces of her dress. He does not know how to comfort her, nor himself. He knows how to bring pleasure so blinding it nearly drowns out the pain.
Y/N helps him remove his clothes, wrapping him up in her arms. “I love you.”
“As I love you.” He’s stumbling backwards then, hovering over her on the bed. Easing his cock into her.
She sighs, losing herself in the gentle rocking of his hips. There is no haste to reach their peak, taking what little comfort they can from each other.
It is not until his thumbs skate over her cheeks that Y/N realizes she is crying. Even here, on their marriage bed, there is no end to suffering. Only an end to loneliness.
————————————————————————
Y/N waits until Aegon is sleeping soundly to clamber from the warmth of his arms and dawn her riding gear. Dragonstone is quiet as she makes her way down to the dragon pit. Stormborn is nestled in beside Sunfyre, her light blue scales complement the golden hue of her companion.
“Where are you off to at this hour, your grace?” One of the keepers asks.
“I’m going to take Stormborn out for a bit of fresh air. The moon is beautiful this evening, don’t you agree?” Y/N smiles, tucking a bit of loose hair behind her ear.
“Indeed, Princess.” He eyes the sword, sheathed at her back.
“This is only a precaution,” Y/N lies, “we can never be too careful in these times.”
He nods, “I will saddle her.”
“Thank you, Marcelo.” Y/N nods, tugging on her riding gloves as she waits. Tapping at her wedding band, beneath the cool fabric.
“She is ready, your grace.”
“Thank you, again.” She says, climbing up onto Stormborn’s saddle.
“It is my great honor.” The man smiles, watching in wonder as the princess sets off across the sea.
Only a few torches are lit at the entrance of Harrenhal.
Y/N lands near the stone walkway, striding up to the tall hooded figure and ripping back his cloak.
Aemond turns to his assailant. “Y/N?”
“Take out your sword.” She demands.
“Lucerys death was a tragic mistake, a lapse in judgment I do not care to repeat.”
“I will not kill you with your back to me, I am no coward. You will face me, take out your sword.”
“For the sake of the gods, Y/N,” Aemond growls. “Do you aim so desperately to break my brother’s heart?”
“I will not allow the slaughter of innocent people. This ends here.”
“A brother for a brother it will be then, not a son for a son.” Aemond reluctantly withdraws his weapon.
Y/N charges him, in a blind rage, their blades meet, clanking together.
“You make a better sparring partner than most.” He draws his sword away, narrowly dodging her next attack.
“This is not a children’s game, I want your head!”
Aemond purrs, “you must earn it then.”
She sees red, swinging at him again, until his blade slices across her side and she has cut deep into the flesh of his leg. Bringing the Prince to his knees, with her sword at his neck.
“Do it,” Aemond insists, “you will not get another chance.” He stares up at her blade, dripping with his blood. The fear etched into her eyes, tresses of dark hair clinging to her sweat damp skin.
In this light, each of them resemble their brother.
The end Y/N desires is so near she can taste it, rising like bile in her throat. She chokes on it. “No.” She drops her blade from his neck, covering her aching side instead. “No.”
Aemond hangs his head. “I am sorry for that business with Luce. I lost my temper that day.”
“And I lost my…” No, she cannot say it, the pain is too great.
“Let me see your wound.” Aemond insists.
In her shock, Y/N obeys.
He tears across the bottom of his cloak, knotting the material firmly around her torso. Unbothered by her hissing protest. “This will hold until you reach Dragonstone. Go to Aegon, he will tend you.”
“You must leave this place.”
“You have my word.”
“And you must leave King’s Landing.”
Aemond smirks, “where would I go?”
“Anywhere.” Y/N suggests, “take Helaena and your children. We both know, she is too kind to bear the weight of the crown and our blood. Take her away so she might be happy…and free.”
“Do you not wish to be free from the weight of the crown?”
Y/N hesitates for a long moment. “I am the crown. I am my mother’s heir, her only daughter. I cannot abandon her, she has lost too much.”
Aemond swallows, “very well. Helaena will write you. You and my brother might visit, once we’re settled.”
“Perhaps we will.” She will never forgive him for Lucerys. They will never be as they were before Storm’s End. “You are my husband’s brother and husband of my dearest friend.”
“I am also your brother’s murderer. A title that trumps all, despite your best intentions. You are good, and kind, but human all the same.”
————————————————————————
“Aegon.”
“Hmm?” He reaches for his wife, blindly, stroking a hand over her dark waves. “What have you done to your hair, darling girl?” He grumbles, “it is awfully coarse.”
Jace bats Aegon’s hands away. “My sister is gone, you buffoon. Get your clothes on.”
“Jacaerys?” Aegon springs up, covering himself with the top sheet. “What are you doing?”
“Y/N is missing. The dragon handlers informed me that she left on Stormborn nearly two hours ago. Sunfyre has been yowling ever since.”
“Alert your mother,” Aegon demands, “raise the guard. Who on earth let the heir to the throne take a dragon from the pit in the middle of the night?”
“She is a princess, not a prisoner.” Jace reminds him, “I have a hunch as to where she went.”
“Harrenhal.” Aegon begins tugging on his clothes. The little brat bedded him and snuck off; again. “She will be a prisoner upon her return. I tire of these games.”
“You mustn’t be so harsh, my sister would go to the ends of the earth for you.”
“Yet she will not stay with me.” Aegon steps into his boots. “Surely she loves me so dearly that she flees at every opportunity.”
“Do not see it that way.” Jace sighs.
“I have no other way to see it.” Their chamber door swings open, revealing the woman in question.
“Aegon,” Y/N chokes. The blinding rush of battle is gone, leaving only her pain.
“Leave us,” Aegon waves a dismissive hand at his nephew.
“Y/N,” Jacaerys looks to his sister instead.
“I am well, brother.”
“You are bleeding.”
Y/N glances down at her wound, “perhaps you might go quietly to the maester and request milk of the poppy?”
“The maester should tend you,” he argues.
“Aegon will tend me, tis but a scrape.” Y/N insists.
Her brother squares his shoulders. “Very well, I will be back.”
“Thank you, brother.” Y/N forces a smile as Jace exits the door.
“What happened?” Aegon demands, squinting into the dim light as his wife stands before him, in her riding gear.
“I could not do it.” Y/N curses her own weakness. “I went to Aemond, I stopped him from taking Harrenhal and I let him go.”
Aegon shifts her garments aside to reveal the damage. A long bleeding gash, beneath her ribs. “Aemond did this to you?” He sits her down on the foot stool, pacing in the small space before it.
“We dueled,” Y/N admits. “I made my mark on him as well.”
“Gods be good.” Aegon breathes.
“If Daemon catches word of this-”
“You are injured. That is where my interests lie, not in the folly of men.” Aegon seethes.
“He has already condoned the murder of children. Helaena’s children, of all people. What will he do if he hears of this?”
Aegon passes a hand over his face. “Surely we cannot leave the wound open like that, it will fester.”
“I know,” Y/N nods. “We must seal it up, with a heated blade. We can do it here, no one need know.” She reaches for his cup on the dresser, chugging the foul liquid down for some relief.
“You’re asking me to…” his eyes dart to his dagger, abandoned near his boots. “No.”
“Aegon.”
“I can’t.”
“It will be quick,” she reasons. “It will scar, but it is on my side, you will not look upon it often.”
“That is what you’re concerned with,” Aegon snaps, “of all things, you think I care about the scar it will leave? That I might frown upon an imperfection?”
“I-”
“You are maddening.”
“I am sorry. I do not wish to fight.”
“It is unavoidable from what I’ve heard. Marriage causes strife and disagreements.”
“Not ours,” Y/N insists, “you are the only person who understands me.”
“I do not understand why you would put yourself in danger.”
“For you.” Y/N tells him. “So you would not have to choose between your wife and your brother.”
“I would choose you, imbecile.”
Y/N bares her teeth. “I couldn’t let you.”
“Why?”
“Because you are mine, Aegon! I protect what is mine.”
In the way of the dragon. And that, Aegon understands very well.
“Here it is,” Jace returns with milk of the poppy.
“Thank you,” Aegon takes the gauntlet, bringing it to his wife’s lips. “Drink all of it.” He demands.
“Is there anything more I can do?” The other man asks.
“Rest the blade of my dagger over the fire until it glows red, then bring it to me.”
Jace nods.
“First, might you find something for her to bite down on. Leather works best.” Aegon purses his lips, “bring me my belt.” One of them is still etched with her teeth markings from Laenor’s birth. He’s delivered two of their children, surely he can do this.
Jacaerys rushes to the armchair beside the bed, tugging Aegon’s belt free and placing it on the foot stool beside his sister.
Y/N curls her fingers around the harsh material. Her vision has doubled, swaying from side to side.
“Are you going to faint?” Aegon catches her face between his hands.
“I feel fine,” Y/N slurs.
Aegon taps her chin. “That is good, my dearest love. I am going to remove your shirt.” He eases the material over her head, leaving only the bindings to cover her breasts.
“The blade is ready,” Jacaerys calls, from the fire place.
“Open.” Aegon tugs at her bottom lip with his thumb until her jaw goes slack, taking the leather belt from her clenched fist and placing the strap between her teeth. “Bite.”
Y/N clamps her teeth around it.
“Good girl.”
Jacaerys approaches, handling the instrument with care.
“You will hold me around the waist, you are not to let go until I say.” Aegon instructs, waiting until she is wrapped around him in an awkward sort of hug. “There you go.” He pats her head before taking the dagger from her brother. He offers no additional warning before lying the blade flat across the expanse of her wound. The cut is a clean one, without jagged edges.
Y/N lets out a muffled cry.
“Shh,” he hushes her, holding the heat to her skin for just a moment more before tossing the dagger away. Gingerly withdrawing the belt from her teeth. Resting his forehead against hers as whimpers settle to deep breathing. “Are you alright?”
Y/N nods.
“If you dare leave me again, Gods help me, I will shackle you to my side.”
Y/N strokes a hand over the side of his face. “Yes, Aegon.”
“I do not jest.”
Part 4
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veritasangel · 1 month
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⋆ 。⋆ fem pov ୨୧˚ warnings: nsfw content {mdni} ↣ piv (unprotected), creampie, mentions of getting reader pregnant, oral (receiving & giving), fingering, multiple orgasms, wedding night
older knight! simon - one︱two︱three︱four︱five︱six - {wc: 4.2k}
↣ if you don't wanna read it all in one go, there are dividers around every 1k words <3
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Celebrations had been in full swing for a while now, the night air filled with laughter and music. Drunken nobles made a fool of themselves, sweet blessings were given to you and your new husband. The kingdom was full of joy and everyone was wishing prosperity to you and Simon.
As fun as the afterparty was though, once yours and Simon’s first dance had ended, you were only thinking about one thing.
You know Simon’s mind drifts to the same place yours had because the gleam in his eye spoke a thousand words alone. Your hands find each other under the table, fingers entwining as you lean into his side. 
“Shall we?” Simon whispers, his voice low and intimate, a hint of mischief dancing in his eyes.
“We can’t ditch our wedding party.” you laugh softly, “It’s not polite.”
“Says who?” He scoffs, “It’s our wedding after all, and I have been patiently waiting to have my wife all to myself.” he grins, leaning in close to give you a kiss.
His lips barely linger, the touch fleeting yet enough to send a thrill through you. You feel your cheeks flush as Simon’s eyes hold yours, a shared secret sparkling between you. The music and laughter of the party fades into the background, and all that matters is the two of you, lost in this moment.
“Come on, my love,” he murmurs, his hand warm in yours as he helps you to your feet. “Or I mean, we can stay for a few more toasts if you really want to?” he asks, a playful glint in his eye.
You laugh, shaking your head. “I think I’ve had my fill of conversation for one evening. I’d much rather toast to our future in private.”
With a shared glance of understanding, you and Simon make your way through the crowded room.
You glance around, seeing the joyous faces of your guests. Together, you navigate the crowded room, offering polite excuses to well-wishers, weaving through the guests who were too caught up in their drinks and celebrations to notice the bride and groom slipping away.
Simon’s smile's bright, and he squeezes your hand as he leads you down the quiet halls, away from the merriment. The castle walls rose around you, ancient stones whispering of history and tradition.
The flickering lights create dancing shadows, and the silence feels almost sacred after the hectic commotion of the day. Simon’s hand never leaves yours, his thumb gently caressing the back of yours as you make your way to your chambers.
As you approach the door to your chambers, your heart quickens. This is the moment you had been waiting for, all of this build up, to now. Simon turns to you, his expression soft and tender. “After you, my beautiful wife,” he says, pushing the door open.
Inside the room you were met with the soft glow of candlelight, the bed covered in pretty petals. The air is thick with the scent of roses and the promise of what was to come. Simon steps in behind you, closing the door gently.
He draws you into his arms, his touch gentle but sure. “This is our night,” he whispers, his lips brushing against your temple. “And I intend to make every moment count.”
“Sweetheart, as lovely as the rose petals are, isn’t it a bit impractical?” you remark with a light laugh.
“Oh, I absolutely agree. I didn’t scatter them out, figured it would be a waste since we’d mess it up. I suppose the maids didn’t get the message,” he replies with a playful grin.
Simon's focus never drifts from you as he guides you over to the bed. A mischievous glint in his eyes as he smiles at you. He leans down, his lips softly meeting yours in a tender kiss.
Simon pulls away momentarily to admire you in your wedding gown, the white a beautiful contrast to the red rose petals surrounding you. It sends a rush of blood straight down to his cock. With a soft growl, he disappears under your wedding gown, kissing up your leg and along your thigh.
Opening his mouth, his teeth gently bite down on the garter, pulling the fabric down with a soft tug. As the fabric slips away from your leg, he lifts his head, his eyes meeting yours as he tosses the garter to the side. “You wouldn’t let me do it in the main hall, I had to do it at some point.” he grins.
His hands move to your waist, pulling you closer as his lips capture yours in another tender kiss, all of the unspoken emotions, just pouring out in the loving gesture. He moves around you as his fingers nimbly work the zip along the back of your wedding gown.
He wants to explore every part of you, and he certainly plans to take his time tonight, savouring each moment. He wants- no- needs, to make you his completely. The love he has for you is all-consuming, and he wants to show it to you in every second he can, with every touch.
As the gown falls to your feet, his gaze is stuck on your body, so delicate, with your pretty lace corset and panties. He can’t help but marvel at how perfect you are. “So, so fucking beautiful,” he murmurs.
His hands move to unfasten your corset, revealing more of your body with each passing second. Simon’s eyes drink in the sight, his hands running over your curves, causing you to shiver.
He lifts you up, placing you gently on the bed. He takes a moment to admire the way the petals look beside you, the sight making him delirious. His warm breath moves across your skin as he peppers kisses along your neck and down to your collarbone, gently nipping at the delicate skin every now and then as he works his way down.
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He presses a kiss to your shoulder, admiring your body and the way the candlelight dances across your skin. “God, you’re stunning- how did I get so lucky?” he whispers.
Simon climbs onto the bed, his hands cupping your face. “You’re all mine...My precious wife,” he says gently, his lips moving down to kiss the wedding ring adorned on your finger. He smiles, returning his lips up to your mouth as his hands begin to roam, exploring every inch of your body.
Simon's touch is both tender and demanding, his fingers trace every curve along your body, the dip of your waist, the swell of your breasts. 
He holds you gently, but the grip is still strong enough to remind you he was once a well equipped fighter. He plants sweet kisses, with occasional soft bites along your skin that you know will bloom in the morning with a faint rose hint.
He likes the idea of marking you, claiming you as his own. He knows you’re his and he’s yours but there’s a sense of pride he gets in flaunting that fact. Letting the people know that the royal princess is truly enamoured with a man like him. He nips at the sensitive skin just below your ear, his tongue darting out to soothe the sting.
His kisses trail down to the valley in between your breasts as his hands continue to explore you. He palms your breasts, thumbs flicking over the sensitive peaks, eliciting a soft moan from you. He likes the sound of that, loves knowing he can make you lose control so easily.
Simon's mouth moves to your breast, his lips wrapping around your nipple, sucking gently. He can feel you arching into his touch, and he can’t help but smirk against your skin. He continues his worship, his tongue swirling around your nipple as he pulls at it with his teeth. “Is that good, hm?” he teases.
You nod as he moves to the other breast, treating it just as lovingly. He nips and sucks, teasing you with his mouth, and you can feel your arousal building. His hands keep exploring, one moving lower, slipping beneath the waistband of your panties.
His touch is light, trailing his fingers along the dampness there, almost torturing you with the promise of what was going to come. His lips soon follow down, kissing a path down your stomach, his tongue darting out every so often as he maps out your smooth skin.
He continues further down, his kisses growing more urgent as he reaches the edge of your panties. He hooks them to the side as he reveals your pussy. He takes in the sight of you, your arousal glistening, your folds parted just enough to reveal the pink flesh within. “My pretty girl’s already so wet for me.” he coos.
Simon's breath catches at the sight, and he can't help but emit a low growl of desire. Leaning in, his tongue flicks out to taste you, savouring how you taste. He laps at your folds, teasing the entrance to your core as his fingers stroke your thighs.
He continues his worship, his tongue delving deeper, coming back up to suck on your clit. He could feel you trembling beneath him, your moans growing louder as he brought you closer to the edge. “So sweet- you taste so fucking divine.”
Simon's fingers join his tongue, slipping inside you, curling to find your most sensitive spots. He moves them in a rhythm, his thumb flicking at your clit, his mouth never leaving your core.
He continues his assault, his mouth and fingers working in perfect harmony as his eyes lock onto yours. You let out a breathy moan as he slides his ring finger into you. The sight of it disappearing inside you making his own arousal grow. He watches as he fingers you, his thumb circling your clit as he works his finger inside you.
He dives back in, his face between your thighs, his tongue swirling around your clit as his fingers continue their ministrations. The overall blend of these sensations almost seems too much to bear, and you can feel yourself getting closer and closer to that sweet release.
He eats you out like a ravenous man, like you are the most divine thing that ever rested on his tongue, and in a sense, that's true. "You're all mine" he murmurs, his voice low and husky. He flattens his tongue against your folds as the bridge of his nose brushes against your clit.
He pulls his hand away momentarily as he lifts his ring finger slightly, pressing the ring against your clit, smirking when your body shivers at the cool metal and you mumble something incoherent.
His pace increases, his tongue flicking faster, his fingers thrusting as deep as they can, hitting that sweet spot inside you. He can sense your orgasm, feel it in the tremor of your thighs, the clench of your walls.
Simon's lips press against your clit, sucking it gently as he keeps his fingers exactly where you want them. The combination of his mouth and fingers is all too much, and you cry out his name as you come undone, your body trembling beneath him.
He continues, even as your orgasm subsides, drawing it out for as long as he can. When he’s sure you’re spent, he pulls away, his eyes meeting yours once more.
"Mine," he repeats, a satisfied smirk curving his lips.
With a gentle tug, Simon fully removes your panties, discarding them. He moves up your body, his lips capturing yours in a searing kiss as he positions himself at your entrance.
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“You ready?” he whispers against your lips. 
“Yes- I want you.” you whisper back and that’s all he needs as he slowly pushes inside you. The moment he does, you both let out a soft gasp. He pauses, letting you adjust to his size, his eyes never leaving yours. “Fuck, baby, you feel so good.” 
He starts to push into you, his strokes very slow, so he can feel every inch. As he does, his hands roam across your body, caressing your skin, pressing soft kisses to your shoulder. He pays attention to every noise that escapes you, each slight twitch, taking it all in.
The room is filled the room with the sound of moans, slapping skin on skin, and both of your quickened breaths.
His thrusts quicken as you lock your legs over his waist, heels against his ass. He feels you drawing closer and closer; he wants to be the one to push you over. He bends down at the waist, takes your lips in a rough, hungry kiss, and just keeps up the pace of his intense thrusts. His hands move to your hips, as he pulls you against him, thrusting as deep as he can in ecstasy.
Simon's free hand moves to your breast, squeezing it firmly as he tugs at your nipple with feverish intensity. The sensation is almost too much to bear, and you can feel your orgasm building, growing closer and closer.
“Is that good, baby?”
“Yesyesyes, so-so good.” you babble as you cling to him.
By the time Simon's cock has reached that pivotal spot, you can’t help but whine with this feeling of him being so deep inside you. Your eyes meet, and there, at that moment, you just felt a connection which is beyond the physical. It's something raw, real between them; a bond getting stronger with each second.
He quickens his pace, a few simple thrusts increasing the urgency of the moment. He continues to drive into you, his thrusts more fierce now, his body trembling as he nears his climax. The two of you move as one, your bodies locked together in a dance of passion and love.
The moment is intense, the two of you reaching for that peak, both of your body's aching for release. As he continued his movements, he let out a low groan, his voice thick with desire. "Fuuck- keep squeezing me like that- shit- and- I might have to put a baby in you."
His words send a thrill through you, the thought of starting a family with him making your heart flutter. The thought of having his children, sharing this connection with him in such an intimate way, made your love for him grow even stronger. Simon's thrusts grow more desperate, his body trembling as he nears his climax. 
"You can-" you whine, "you're my husband now."
Simon's eyes darken at your words, and he lets out a low growl. "Yeah? Call me that again."
“My husband.” you say through breaths as you look up at him adoringly.
He leans down, bringing you in for a loving kiss as he continues to thrust into you. He can feel your body responding to him, his every movement, and it spurs him on.
Simon continues to drive into you, his body trembling as he nears his climax. His movements become desperate, his thrusts faltering slightly, becoming sloppier.
“Please- so close-” you whine
“Yeah? Well, I suppose I can’t deny my future queen.” he groans against your skin, head buried in the crevice of your neck.
Simon's thrusts grow more frantic, as you both reach the peak. His body shakes as he fills you up to the brim with a thick load. You cling to him, your body shaking as your own orgasm crashes over you in waves, leaving you both breathless and spent.
Simon collapses onto you fully, forgetting how heavy he is compared to you, his chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath. After a few moments, he lifts himself up slightly, pressing a kiss to your forehead, a satisfied grin plastered on his face.
The two of you catch your breath, relaxing in each other's arms, the afterglow washing over you both. For a moment, the outside world ceases to exist, it’s only you two and you wish you could stay in this bubble of intimacy forever.
As Simon pulls out, you can’t help but let out a soft whine, the emptiness inside you leaving you missing the feeling. His release runs down your thighs as you begin to trail kisses along his body. Your lips brushing against his skin, feeling the ridges of his scars.
Each kiss you place on his body is filled with love and adoration, your tongue traces the lines of his scars, feeling the weight of his past. You want to heal the wounds that time couldn't, and in your own way, you are.
Simon feels vulnerable, you can tell in the way he looks at you. He’d just filled you with his cum, but the sight of you focusing on his scars was what made him feel shy.
Your lips linger on his chest, your eyes meeting his, your love for him shining through. "I love you," you whisper, the words echoing in the room, a promise of the life you two would build together.
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His eyes soften, and he pulls you in closer, leaning in to kiss you softly, his hands tangle in your hair as he deepens the kiss, afraid you’ll escape if he lets you go.
Pulling back from the kiss, you continue your journey down his body, taking your time to map every inch, every ridge, watching as his body shivers slightly when your breath meets certain areas. “You’re mesmerising and I’m so thankful you’re my husband.”
“I’m the thankful one. I’m merely a retired knight, compared to you-”
You shush him as you finally reach his cock, now slick with your juices and his. You wrap your lips around the tip, your tongue swirling around the head, cleaning it gently. 
“Shit-” he hisses, still so sensitive from before, just barely over his first orgasm Simon can’t help but let out a soft moan, his fingers threading in your hair to guide you as you pleasure him.
Your lips move up and down his shaft, kissing along his cock which is now already hardening again. Simon's eyes close, his body relaxing as you take care of him, leaving him feeling loved and cared for.
He lets out a slight moan, muffled as he bites his knuckle. His hips gently thrust up to meet your mouth. Simon’s praise comes out as a soft whisper, "Fuck, you're good at that, angel." His fingers play with your hair, his touch gentle as he enjoys the way you take care of him. You can feel his appreciation, his words making your cheeks flush with pride. You let out a low hum at every praise, the noise vibrating along his cock, causing his eyes to close.
Simon's hips continue, his cock sliding against your lips and tongue as he loses himself in the bliss. "Christ, you're working me up again."
You smile around his cock, the sound of your laughter muffled by his cock in your mouth. One of your hands moves to his balls, gently fondling them, only adding to his satisfaction.
Simon's breath hitches, his fingers tightening in your hair as he nears his climax. You can feel it building, and you quicken your pace, your tongue working faster as you want to bring him to the edge once more.
He lets out a desperate groan, his hips bucking as you bring him closer to his climax. But just as he’s about to go over, he abruptly pulls away, his eyes meeting yours.
"God, no- Need to be inside you again." he growls, his voice thick with desire.
His tongue dances with yours, his hands moving to your hips, guiding you back up towards the headboard, where he’s leaning against it. "Want you on top."
You nod, your lips still locked with his, and move as directed, straddling him. His tip is leaky, his pre-cum dripping profusely. His eyes close in bliss and his breath is shaky as you gradually sink down on his length. 
Simon's hands move to your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh as he watches you ride him, his eyes never leaving yours. You set a steady pace, your hips moving in a rhythm, your breasts bouncing with each thrust.
Simon's breathing grows heavier, his eyes darkening with a mixture of lust and love as he watches you ride him, his cock filling you up perfectly. It feels as though you’re made for him- as if he’s made for you and God he hopes he is. He swears marrying you is the best thing that’s ever happened to him, before he thought the knights were his home. But now he knows it’s you, you’re his home and he wants to start a family with you.
His desire grows, his need for release overwhelming. His body trembles as he feels himself quickly getting close again, and he can’t help but bring one of your hands to his lips, kissing the ring on your finger.
“I’m all yours, forever.” you whisper tenderly as your hips slow momentarily.
“And I’m yours, always. Every fibre of me, I swear it.” he says, with so much love and devotion in his tone that you could almost tear up.
He wants to be at your mercy, to let you take control and show him the pleasure he craves. He’s lost in the moment, his body writhing beneath yours.
"Thank you- fuck- thank you-" Simon whimpers, his voice thick with desire. In this moment, it’s easy to forget the man he used to be, the feared knight who commanded respect and terror. Here, he was just another man, lost in the passion and love that exists between the two of you.
His hips lift to meet your movements halfway. The two of you move together, your bodies locked in a dance of desire, your love growing stronger with each passing second. Simon's fingers tighten on your hips, his grip a testament to the pleasure you brought him.
As you continue to ride him, Simon leans back, his head resting against the headboard as he lets your hips do the work. His breath hitches in his throat as he feels the way you use your hips against him. He’s no match for them and it’s one battle he’ll happily lose. The hushed whispers, the tender touches and the dim light from the candles, set the perfect romantic scene.
The room is filled with the sounds of your moans, the slap of skin against skin, and the soft grunts from Simon as he feels you taking control, guiding him to the edge.
You can feel his body growing closer to the peak, his fingers digging into your hips. The two of you move together, whispering sweet nothings to each other as he runs his hands across every inch of your body that he can reach, desperate to be as close to you as he can.
It’s not long before a guttural groan escapes Simon’s throat, his body tenses as he erupts inside you. Thick ropes of cum shoot inside you, the sensation overwhelming as he hits that peak. You cry out his name, a bundle of nerves coursing through your veins as your orgasm hits you, body trembling as you gush around his cock. Simon's eyes close as he feels the aftershocks of his climax and yours. 
Simon remains inside you, keeping his release plugged inside you as one of his hands rests on your belly, his fingers gently tracing circles on your skin. He looks up at your sweat-sheened skin, a satisfied smile on his lips as he gazes at the woman he loves. "Gonna look so good carrying my babies," he whispers, his voice thick with desire and love.
His hand moves from your belly to your breast, his thumb brushing against your nipple, teasing it gently. "You're perfect, baby. You're perfect for me."
As you lean down onto him, your forehead resting against his, Simon wraps his arms around you. He holds you close as the two of you bask in the intimate feeling. Simon presses a soft kiss to your forehead as he holds you close.
"I love you," he says lovingly, his voice heavy with emotion.
"I love you too." you whisper back, your voice filled with just as much love and adoration for him as the two of you lay there, entwined in each other's embrace.
You rest your head on his chest, catching your breath as the world outside is still. The moonlight paints the room in delicate silvery hues. Every beat of his heartbeat reminds you of this new chapter in your life, one you now share with Simon and you find yourself looking forward to this new future alongside him.
In the gentle cocoon of love, you both found a peace that transcended words, wrapped in the eternal embrace of a love that would only grow stronger with each passing day.
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© veritasangel ↣ 𝘥𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘱𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘴
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vixensbrainrotts · 9 months
Text
TR men reacting to little kids wooing you
Content: reactions
Tropes: established relationship
Warnings: none (lmk if im wrong)
Summary: A little boy, perhaps four or five of age comes waddling over to you two whilst you're out on a date together and offers you a flower, confessing his spontaneous love for you. How does your man react to that?
Vixen’s two cents: hi! This has been sitting in my drafts forever so i need to get it out cause it’s collecting cobwebs. It’s sort of a random idea but whatever, i found it entertaining. Also im editing this in the car and its giving me a stroke why is the road so fucking uneven? If you have any ideas for me to write please please please my requests ans messages are open! Yeah, let me know if there are any other characters that fit those types and enjoy!
(Takemichi, Chifuyu, Souya, Hakkai, Shinichiro, Sanzu (I don’t care what anyone says. Shy Sanzu is forever on my agenda), Inui)
Nearly deceased type, it took him so long to get you. How HOW is this little ass kid wooing you better than he could ever dream of? What the actual fuck was happening? He couldn’t believe his eyes when that actual toddler came up to you with a flower, the stem freshly plucked, and a glimmer in the kid‘s hopeful eyes. The boy had almost serenaded you the way he sang praises to you: „excuse me miss, you’re really pretty! Would you accept my flower please?“. And what was even more unbelievable, was when you giggled and accepted the flower giddily. Then the little boy crossed the line: „can I have a kiss in return Miss?“. And you did. You pecked the cheek of the boy meek two minutes after meeting him! Unbelievable! It took him 3 dates to even hold your hand. Outrizzed by a five year old.
(Nahoya, Mikey, Baji)
Ready to fight the kid. He's deadass about it too, rolling up his sleeves and cracking his knuckels and snapping the kinks in his neck, looking menacingly at that poor little boy. He doesn't care that this may be the kid's first crush, he'll crush him in return. You were his damnit and he was gonna prove it to anyone who tried him. Kids included. When you pull at his arm though, prompting him to calm down, he stops a little. What do you mean you dont want him to establish his dominance? He's genuinely stumped and just kinda stares at you for a second, watching you intensely as you lean down to the boy, whispering something in his little ear and taking the flower from him. The boy giggles at you, his former horror dissipated, instead replaced with a furious blush that spread all the way down his neck and up his ears. He blew you a kiss before skipping away, giddily going back to whatever he was doing beforehand. Your boyfriend turns you around by the shoulders immediately and gives you a harmless glare. “What the fuck was that about?” But he doesn’t get a response, as you just wrap your arms around him and laugh. “You’re so cute when you’re jealous!” Well… that wasnt the answer he was looking for but he’ll take it.
(Ran, Shion, Draken, Benkei, Wakasa)
Sitting back and watching the show. He finds the little kids advances hilarious and will gladly watch the little shrimp try to win you over whilst you’re trying your hardest not to burst out laughing. “So sweets, how old are you anyway?” The boy asks you with a smirk on his face. “Too old for you.” You answer incredulously, just about ready to cry from laughter. “No no no baby, no one has to know! It can just be between the two of us and that’s fineeee!” He draws out the syllables and leans one elbow on table you and your boyfriend are sitting at. Your boyfriend all the while has probably pulled out a phone, discreetly filming the whole thing whilst leaning back and hiding his tears. You shoot both boys an amused look and then answer the awaiting kid. “Come back to me in a few years and maybe we can arrange something, yeah?” The little kids eyes widen as he looks at you with a determined smile. “Yes! You won’t regret it! And I’ll beat up your wannabe boyfie over here once I’m strong enough too!” He exclaims and runs off leaving you howling in laughter and your boyfriend, who is suddenly enraged by a child, fumes silently, sending daggers across the room. “Relax baby.” You reach a hand over the table to hold his, wiping the tears from your eyes. “Don’t touch me.” He hisses and puts the phone down, crossing his arms in fake offense.
(Hanma, Kokonoi, Izana, Rindou)
The false hope typa guy. In this case, the boy made the mistake of coming up to HIM and innocently asking for your name. “Why, you like what you see?” Your boyfriend uses language much too mature for the little kid, but he gets a timid response of “yeah, she’s real pretty..” nevertheless. Your boyfriend chuckles and pats him on the shoulder. “I say go for it, I’m sure you’ve got a chance with her!” The little boy has wide eyes and an open mouth “Really? You sure she doesn’t have some super big ‘n scary boyfriend?” He has to suppress laughter when he answers. “I’m sure she doesn’t, go talk to her, ask her for her name and tell her that I said hi too.” And with that, he’s sent the kid on his way. Your boyfriend watches him shyly go up to you and pat your leg slightly to get your attention. He watches you smile down at the little boy and talk to him, your eyes widening and laughing when you exchange a few words with the kid. When he sees fit, he comes stalking over to the two of you and wraps his arm around your waist and smirks at the kid. “Hey there.” You greet your boyfriend and turn to look at him. “Have you met—“ he guesses that you’re about to introduce him to the little boy but he doesn’t care to listen, and leans down to shush your lips with a long, over-the-top kiss, even going as far as to cracking one eye open to look at the little boys horrified face before finally pulling away. You’re a little dazed and very confused when you look down and find your little admirer gone. You throw your boyfriend an accusing look but he only raises his hands in surrender, claiming innocent with a smug smile on his face.
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bellatrixscurls · 1 year
Text
exquisite weather today, no? | part i
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warnings : smut, dom anthony and sub reader, pet names, fluff, ben and colin being little shits, reader is kind of naive given the action takes places sometime in the 1810s.
summary : anthony does not want to corrupt his innocent little wife... but what happens when his brothers lend him a helping hand?
a/n: please enjoy part one of my new series until i am done with the james and sirius fic, thank you! <3
“You are telling me that you have not slept in that way with your wife?” Benedict stops in their way down the halls, looking very much concerned. Anthony hums, checking his clock.
“But you’ve been married for almost a year now!” the younger brother exclaims, looking up at the viscount with a frown.
Anthony smirks and looks at his brother from the corner of his eye. “Not that it is any of your concern, but we do things. Together. Alone” his lie is obvious, but still, he leaves Benedict stunned in the middle of the hallway.
When he finally realises that the maids are looking at him funny, Benedict clears his throat and offers them a polite nod, before following Anthony into the drawing room.
Ah, here you are — sitting next to Colin on one of the sofas. With Anthony distracted, speaking to Daphne about the ‘Hearts and Flowers’ ball, he approaches you carefully, sitting beside Colin.
“Exquisite weather today, isn’t it?” he gives you a nod and you mirror his action, smiling, “Indeed it is, Ben.”
Colin looks between the two of you, back and forth, a confused smile gracing his lips. “This is not about the weather, is it?” he whispers through gritted teeth.
Benedict’s smile turns into a grin when the words leave his brother’s mouth. “I am, in fact, glad that you asked, Colin!” he says happily, “I came here because I need some... advice, from Y/n.”
Raising your eyebrows, you look at him in curiosity, “and what could someone such as yourself need advice for?”
Benedict thinks about it for a moment; should he say it? He means no harm but... a little fun won’t hurt... will it?
“Sex” the words leave his mouth and Colin chokes on his tea, eyes wide as he looks back at Benedict. ‘Are you mad?’ he mouths to his brother, but the second-born chooses to ignore him and look back at you. “So. Y/n?”
Benedict finds you looking up at him with wide eyes, lips pursed as you tried to search for that word in your mind, but with no results. “I’m not quite sure what you mean, Ben.”
This time, it is Colin looking back at you, a deep frown settling on his face. “Pardon? Anthony is your husband, there is no such thing as not knowing what sex is.. Does he refer to it differently?”
“You know... when you’re alone, naked, and he towers over you. That thing he puts in between your legs” Benedict quips, already very much content of where Colin has taken the conversation.
“He towers over me?”
The two burst out laughing at your cluelessness and, from the other side of the large room, Anthony’s brows furrow in concern.
“His cock, sweetness. What he has between his legs. I’m sure he spoils the crap out of you with it every night” Benedict taunts and Colin laughs breathily, adding on “or maybe he does not, brother. Seeing that Anthony is so busy all the time. He has more important things to take care of, I suppose.”
At this point, your eyes are teary and your hands are shaking as you listen to your brothers-in-law tease you endlessly. You are not aware of the meaning behind it, though.
In a moment, you feel a hand wrap around your waist and pull you up against the warmth of someone’s body; Anthony. As you look up at him, his heart shatters and his jaw clenches. “I do not know what you did, but be sure that I will find out. And when I do, I hope you will be taking a walk far away from here. More walks.”
And with that, he takes you away from his brothers and rest of the family, not bothering to excuse himself or you, his face red with hatred. He doesn’t know what his brothers told you, but he is positive that it managed to hurt you... And Anthony cannot bare seeing you hurt.
His hand grips yours tightly, in a possessive manner, not hurting you. He is always gentle with you, no matter the circumstances.
Once you reach the wooden door, Anthony ushers you into the bedroom with a hand at the small of your back, following closely behind before he closes the door.
“What did they tell you, my love?” his tone is alarmed and so are his hands, twitching at his sides.
When your eyes finally meet his, they are still filled with tears, sadness pulling at your heart. “Am I a burden to you? Am I- not pretty enough?”
Anthony’s heart breaks and he realises that he’s never seen you so sad before, not even when you were merely a couple and you had family issues.
“Angel, you have to tell me what it is that they told you. I need to know” he repeats through gritted teeth, ready to walk down those stairs and strangle Benedict and Colin.
“Sex” you repeat Benedict’s words unsurely, glancing up at Anthony. “Told me you are too busy for that. And I- you have never told me of that.”
At this point, his hands fly to your waist and he positions you onto his lap, wrapping his arms around your lower body as he turns you to face him entirely. “My darling- They told you that? I-” he seems at a loss for words, and finally, his lips fall into a straight line and he lets go of your hand for a second, walking away from you, and to the floor mirror in his room. You pout as you lose his warmth, and your brows furrow when you notice him pulling the mirror towards you.
He takes his hand in yours and he helps you to your feet, your bottom lip wobbling when you catch sight of your teary eyes, but Anthony notices immediately, and his hands move to hug you from behind, his chin resting on your shoulder.
“You are so beautiful” he says softly, placing a kiss on the side of your neck, nosing at your skin as he continues speaking, “Undress for me, my love.”
Breathing having picked up, your eyes widen anxiously as your hands find his. “Anthony-” “I want to show you how good I can make you feel. Trust me. Please” he pleads, his eyes looking helplessly into yours. You give a curt nod, your heart pounding against your ribcage.
Your shaky hands move to undress yourself and Anthony helps peel off your dress and chemise, leaving you bare and vulnerable before him.
Anthony lets out one of the most obscene sounds when he presses his clothed body to your bare one, and you can feel his erection pressing into your backside, not that you are aware of what that is. Yet.
“Your hand. Move it down your body” he commands rather softly, watching you through the mirror. Your cheeks heat up but you obey nonetheless, your left hand stopping right above your lower stomach, “Lower. Touch your pussy for me, sweetheart.”
“Alright” you take a deep breath, your hand sliding further down your body, resting at your cunt, your warm touch making you shiver. “Feels odd” you whine, eyes pleading as you find his eyes through the mirror.
He bites his lip, his eyes closing for a moment before he is able to look at you again. “It shall feel good in just a moment... Can- Do you want me to show you?”
“Yes, please” you whisper and his hand instantly reaches to your cunt, using both of his hands to spread you open, your folds damp and spread out for him. “S’pretty” you say absentmindedly, dreamily staring at yourself in the mirror.
“Yes it is” he hums, grinning widely against your shoulder. His middle finger taps your clit twice, and he smirks as your body jolts up. “See this, darling? It’s your clit, your little button... You can rub it whenever you wish to feel good.”
“Whenever I wish?” you ask, your eyes wide with curiosity.
“Yes, sweetness” he hums, his cock hardening at the thought of you wanting to touch yourself, let alone to the thought of him. “And if you want it to feel even better, you must-” with your hole dripping wet, Anthony manages to slip a digit right inside of you, causing you to gasp in both slight pain and excitement. He is finally giving it to you.
“Anthony- what is this?” you ask curiously, Anthony’s finger still inside of you, leaving you to adjust to the sudden intrusion.
“Bit of stimulation before I can give you my cock, bunny. Or, as my dear brothers wish to call it, have sex” he chuckles lowly and starts pumping his finger into you, your fragile body shaking, your knees ready to give out, but you know that he is here to catch you.
“Great” you reply breathily, one of your hands slipping into his.
“You must relax, my love” he tuts, moving his finger in and out slowly, the feeling leaving you bucking your hips into his hand, eyes rolling back. “Let them enjoy the show” he eyes you intently through the mirror.
You look at him rather confused, but his other hand moves to cup your jaw and gently turn your head to the side, towards the door.
A door cracked open. Benedict and Colin.
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hattiestgal · 10 months
Note
If you don't mind my asking, how do you go about drawing fat? :3
JUST THE EXCUSE I WAS LOOKING FOR
So, for me personally, a lot of the time when I draw fat characters, I'm not looking to specifically capture the specifics of fat as much as the feel of fat. Bulkier, rounder shapes in the right places that has a feeling of weight to em! A lot of that is intuition and simplification at this point, but it all works on the same frame as just any ol' person. Like take this-
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For example. This is the basis for any body shape, not just the more average one that it may imply. Sure- it can be that average body shape:
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But also a fat one too!
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And a big part of that is knowing where fat usually tends to bunch up on the body, so lets take a look piece by piece! (Please keep in mind this is very simplified, and not completely precise in some parts)
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THE FACE: Cheeks (in purple) and especially the chin (in light blue) are the places where a lot of the fat is gonna wanna gather and round out on your face! Additionally, theres a small pocket of fat beneath the cranium on the backside of your head. It's small, but it is there. I believe fat can build up elsewhere like the bridge of your nose and forehead, but generally speaking, you're gonna have a whole lot more buildup in other places first.
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THE TORSO: A lot of the fat built up on the torso is gonna be sent to your tummy. More cushioning for vital organs, mostly out of the way, it just makes sense. Additionally, the lower backs fat builds up and joins with a patch of fat on your sides that forms what is typically referred to as the love handles to make that double belly look. Along with this, the immediate next target for the torso is the breasts, followed by the upper back!
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THE ARMS: For this limb, a VERY notable amount of the fat present builds up on the tricep and bicep areas, lessening once you get towards the flexor and extensor areas. You can almost think of the arm as a sort of triangular shape, wide side starting from the shoulder and tapering towards the hand, which itself mostly builds up fat around the back of the hand and the fingers. The shoulders themselves don't build up too much fat unless you got a lot
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THE LEGS: And finally, you can think of the legs having pretty similar curves to what you're probably already used to thinking. The front of the thighs getting a big buildup, along with the back of the calves, the other parts being flatter in turn. As far as the feet go- similarly to the hands, the top of the feet, along with the heels get most of the buildup, as fat on your soles would impede mobility. The glute, hip and crotch area will also especially build up fat, lending to the same triangular shape that you can see in the arm!
A big thing to note with fat is that it tends to taper off towards joints. Your knees, elbows, shoulders, hips, and all the other places are gonna have significantly less fat so that you remain mobile and flexible, as that's important!
Now that we have an idea of where fat builds up on the body, you might have something that looks kinda like this
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Which yes, does demonstrate a solid understanding of the places fat builds up, lacks the weight you're probably trying to convey, which brings us to out next point! Fat is well... heavy! Gravity is what gives fat much of it's shape, especially as you tread towards larger and larger bodies.
This is demonstrated really well on the arms especially-
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Those big ol' bits of fat'll really start to sag when left hanging, and they will squish like hell if they run into something. I like to think of these bits of fat as big ol' ovals that squash and stretch depending on if there's an obstacle in their way or not
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These are the important shapes to remember when it comes to the weightiness of fat! If you take all of this into mind, you should be getting something a lot closer to that shape you've been after!
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Oh, and always remember that fat bodies come in all variety of shapes and sizes! Play around with a whole lot, and seek out all the resources you can! it'll really lend to your knowledge when it comes to this kinda stuff!
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And as I always recommend when it comes to learning art- look at what your favorite artists do with fat bodies. See what you really like about the fat bodies they draw and try to replicate it in your own work, I promise you it's one of the most helpful things ever.
This is like the most basic of basics when it comes to drawing fat bodies though. If there's any additional thing about fat bodies, or maybe you want clarification on something, don't be afraid to ask! If there's enough to cover, I'll make an addition to this post!
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moonstruckme · 4 months
Text
summary: when James moves into your apartment, you need a bit of an adjustment period
part 1 │ part 2 │ part 3 │ part 4 │part 5 │ part 6 │ part 7 │ part 8 │ part 9 │ part 10 │ part 11 │ part 12 │ part 13
roommate!James x shy!reader ♡ 1k words
You go downstairs the way a meerkat pokes its head out of its burrow. Cautious, watchful. When you spot James standing over a sizzling pan in the kitchen, it’s a bit of effort not to sigh, but you go anyway, hunger temporarily taking priority over solitude. It’s just going to have to be another quick meal.
“Hey.” James looks up from a recipe he’s reading on his phone, grinning at you. 
You press your lips together in a smile of response. The girl who’d occupied James’ room before him wouldn’t have bothered to acknowledge you, and frankly, you’d liked her for that. You’d had a mutually ambivalent relationship; you’d both paid your rent, ignored the other’s food in the fridge, and gone about your days as if you each had the apartment to yourself. She had to move out because the maintenance crew tattled on her for having a pet, and though James only moved in a week ago, he’s invited you to hang out with his friends every time they’ve come over. Which is often. (He’s at least considerate enough to always ask first, and you always say yes. Partially because they don’t make huge messes and partially because you don’t know how to reply to a yes/no question any other way.) 
You go to the fridge, tearing the aluminum foil off a half-empty can of beans and shaking it into a bowl. You put it in the microwave. James reaches to turn down the stove, and, like a frightened animal, you flinch away from him. He doesn’t seem to notice, only retreating to the opposite counter to give you more room. 
“How’s your day going?” he asks, leaning back on his forearms. 
“Not bad,” you say. Another thing about James is that in addition to his relentless geniality, he’s ferociously attractive. It takes all of your willpower not to let your eyes dip from his face to where his short sleeves conform to his biceps when he leans that way, but your face heats regardless. “Yours?” 
“Pretty good, actually.” He smiles easily. “It’s gorgeous out, have you felt the weather?” 
You shake your head. “I haven’t been out yet.” 
James nods like he knows this already, humming noncommittally. You think you spy a bit of judgment in his look, but you can’t be sure. “So,” he says, “I have something to ask you.” 
You tense. “Okay…” 
“I know you value your privacy, and I totally respect that, but I feel like as your roommate it’s my responsibility to at least ask.” 
You feel your eyes narrowing as you nod for him to continue. 
James schools his face into seriousness, a frown on his lips that looks like it doesn’t belong. “Do you not eat?” 
You laugh, relieved and bemused. “Of course I eat.”
The smile he gives you is strained, clearly for your benefit rather than his. “You sure about that? Because this morning I just saw you have one—one—piece of toast for breakfast, and then for lunch you had…what?” 
You shy, more because of his notice than anything else. The microwave beeps and you use it as an excuse to turn around. “Some cheese and crackers.” 
When you pivot with the steaming bowl, James is looking at you incredulously.
“They’re really filling!” 
“That’s a snack, love, not a meal. Both of those are snacks. Did you have anything else?” 
You hold up the bowl in your hand. “I’m about to have some beans.” 
His laugh is monosyllabic. Appalled. “You’re not serious.” 
You roll your eyes at him even as your face heats. “Listen, it’s not my most nutritious day, but I’ve been in a rush, and…” You were going to say more, but decide against it. “Anyway, there’s protein in the beans, so.” 
James isn’t having it. “And what?” 
“Nothing.” 
“Something.” He raises his eyebrows at you. “C’mon, spill, or I’m going to call your mum and tell her about your big day of—“ He draws quotes in the air, full lips curving he does “—beans and crackers.” 
“And toast,” you joke. James’ smile is small and short-lived. Does he really have your mum’s phone number? He can’t possibly. 
You sigh. “Okay, it’s nothing to do with you, but I…I’m a bit weird about being in the kitchen at the same time.” James’ thick eyebrows meet in the middle, and your shoulders hunch instinctively but you force yourself to finish explaining. “I just want to grab whatever is quickest and go before I make things awkward, or something. But I know it’s stupid.” You shake your head. You could burn the apartment to cinders with the heat from your face. “I don’t own the kitchen. You have every right to be here, and I’ll get used to it eventually. It’s just that you’re new to me right now.” 
James' expression clears. “Oh, you’re shy.” 
You must look even more embarrassed at that, because he hurries to say, “That’s alright, it’s good to know how you feel about things. And now I don’t have to call your mum.” He grins, and it widens when you make a tiny effort to reciprocate. “I don’t mind stepping out of the kitchen so you can cook every now and then.”
“You really don’t have to.” 
“It’s no trouble.” He waves you off. “Honestly, it’s too small for both of us to comfortably use at the same time anyway. Careful by the way, that pan’s hot.” 
You glance behind you, and you’ve backed yourself nearly into the stove. You move away, squeaking out a thanks. 
James’ smile softens. “I do hope you're right about getting used to me eventually, though.” He gives you a kind look, and you have no idea how he can maintain eye contact with that much sincerity in his big brown eyes. You envy the skill. “I’d like to get to be friends, but we’ve got time for that.” 
You’ve no clue how to respond, some deer-in-the-headlights instinct taking ahold of you, but James doesn’t seem to be expecting one. He reaches out to squeeze your shoulder, taking back his place at the stove. You take that as your cue to go.
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hotchner-edu · 3 months
Text
Down We Go | Aaron Hotchner
Synopsis: Aaron takes you shopping and you both find yourselves in a predicament when you run into his team and they recognize you as Jack's friend. — part 3 of (one and two)
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Younger (Of Age) F!Reader
Warnings: Age gap (r is over 22, Aaron is in his late 40's), fluff, best friend's father trope
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"Not to alarm you or anything, honey, but you do realize how this looks to others, right?" You ask, voice tinged with unbridled amusement as you suppress a laugh.
Aaron blinks at you blankly, trying to figure out what you were talking about as the clerk shuffles away to bag up the necklace he was buying for you.
"Aaron, you look like my sugar daddy right now." You explain with a snicker, pinching his side as his eyes widen a bit.
"There's no way people are actually thinking that, right?" He asks almost incredulously as he glances around and curls his arm around your waist.
You shrug and lean into his side, "We're in the right age range for that to be an appropriate assumption." You joke quietly, not bothered by the lingering stares you could feel from other mall patrons.
"When did a man buying his girlfriend jewelry become a crime." He grumbles in false exasperation, thanking the clerk when she comes back and passes the gift bag over the glass display case.
You smile as he carries it for you, taking his hand as he leads you out of the store. "You tell me. You're the one that works with social taboos for a living, Mr. Unit Chief."
"You're going to be the death of me." He murmurs under his breath, a small smile accompanying his complaint.
"You love me." You grin cheekily and bump your hip against his as you both walk. "Now, let's go buy some more ties for you."
"What about that pretzel you wanted earlier?" His asks, already relenting to your sudden suggestion. He lets you drag him toward a multi-story department store at the end of the mall, the glossy floors and milling patrons drawing you both in.
"Forget about the pretzel, honey." You rush out, glancing back at him to see the familiar defeated smile on his face that you've grown accustomed to.
He gives a big sigh and tugs your hand back gently so he's walking closer to you again, pressing you against his side. "Don't think I'm not aware that you just want an excuse to see me wearing more ties."
"Aaron, if you were me, you'd understand this obsession that I harbor." You jokingly lament, looking down at your phone and scrolling past the very appropriately-timed flash of your lockscreen, a selfie (that you begged him to take) of him in his suit while he was on his lunch break.
Just as you both cross into the threshold of the department store, you hear a surprised call of Aaron's name. "Hotch?"
Both you and Aaron spin on your heels to see a small group of people staring at you both. Sifting through your memories, you quickly deduce that it was his BAU team, recognizing them from the various photos he's shown you.
"JJ... Hi." He says politely, nodding to the rest of his teammates who were now gawking at you. "Having a good weekend so far?"
The woman— JJ, nods and smiles faintly, eyes flitting to observe you for a millisecond. "Yes, we all decided to just walk around after grabbing brunch."
"So... gonna introduce us?" A man you recognized as Derek speaks up, sharing a look around the group.
Aaron pauses for a second before squeezing your waist reassuringly and clearing his throat. "Right... guys, this is Y/N. Honey, this is my team." He keeps the introduction short, clearly knowing they'd likely interrogate you anyway.
"It's nice to meet you, Y/N. Y/N..." Derek mutters your name softly after greeting you, trying to get a feel for its familiarity. "Huh, you have the same name as Jack's friend." He says, pausing as the last syllable leaves his lips.
You see JJ and Emily cringe a bit at his cluelessness, clearly having realized who you were a bit before him. "Ah, yes, that's me." You answer sheepishly, smiling and meeting his gaze evenly.
Penelope, who you recognize from her colorful jewelry and joyful disposition, is quick to recover from her shock as she gasps and looks at you. “Oh my gosh, I love your shoes!”
“Oh, thank you!” You’re quick to accept the sudden shift in atmosphere. “I bought them a couple of weeks ago.”
“You’ll have to come shopping with us!” Penelope excitedly says, looking as though she was already planning out the entire trip in her head.
Emily nods warmly,. “Oh please do, I’m dying for a new dress. Even if we barely have the time to go out these days.” She jokes and rolls her eyes playfully.
“I would love to. Though I think Aaron will be the first to tell you that the last thing I need to do is more shopping.” You jest back, feeling Aaron’s hand rubbing your back slowly.
“Whatever makes you happy.” Aaron speaks up to defend himself, amusement decorating his tone as he tries to hide his little smile.
“So it’s settled then.” JJ chuckles, motioning for the group to start walking as to not create foot traffic.
Penelope flashes you a bright grin, starting to walk. "No wonder you declined for brunch, sir. But worry not, all is forgiven!"
You direct your attention back to Aaron and you frown a bit, feeling guilty for causing him to miss a team bonding day. "I thought you said you had no plans today, honey."
Aaron shakes his head gently and swiftly wraps his arm around your waist again. "I wanted to spend the day with you."
You eye him a bit with faux uncertainty before catching Derek's gaze.
“So… I have to ask. How did this happen?” Derek says, motioning between the both of you as he walks beside Aaron.
Aaron looks to you and lets you explain, knowing you always got a good kick out of telling the story. “Jack accidentally set us up together on a blind date.”
Derek’s eyebrows raise up and he huffs out a light chuckle, shaking his head. Spencer speaks up for the first time, eyebrows furrowed as he turns back a bit while he walks. “Accidentally?”
“Yeah, he had an elaborate plan to set me and Aaron up on different dates at different places, but he accidentally sent me the wrong address. And much to his absolute chagrin, we hit it off.” You elaborate with a lighthearted tone.
“He set you both up on dates on the same day?” Spencer clarifies, looking a bit befuddled.
“Between you and me, I think he just wanted some peace and quiet.” You joke, smiling when the group lets out small laughs.
Derek crosses his arms and glances at Aaron, eyes glinting in playfulness. “So this is why you’ve been all giddy these past few weeks?”
You snort, the mental image of your no-nonsense boyfriend suddenly being go-lucky at the office popping into your head. “Giddy?” You ask and raise an eyebrow at Aaron.
“I have not been giddy.” He deadpans, seemingly trying to inch away from the group with every passing second.
“Oh, no, you’ve been pretty cheerful, sir.” Penelope chimes in from in front of you.
“Yeah, I mean he’s even going back home at reasonable hours.” Emily says to you playfully.
“Never thought I’d see the day where you’d leave the office with work still on your desk.” Derek adds.
You chuckle and squeeze his hand. “Really now? He’s still putting on the workaholic facade around me. He told me that he's just been getting less paperwork lately. Good to know you’re whipped, honey.”
Aaron rolls his eyes fondly and just sighs in defeat. You have been trying to instill a sense of self-concern in Aaron, texting him almost every night to make sure he got home before midnight.
You end up walking around with his team for almost an hour, swapping stories about Aaron and getting to know them. By the time you all decide to part ways, you've gotten the girls' numbers and been put into a groupchat with them.
"I'd say that went well." You muse happily and walk with Aaron to his car. "I was nervous they wouldn't be super receptive of the relationship. I was certain Derek would throw in a few quips about you being a cradle robber."
"Oh don't worry, Dave's already got that base covered." Aaron sighs to veil his fondness.
"A little office banter can't hurt." You tease, knowing about his bond with the older agent. "And I can't believe you really almost fought that death-row convict! With your bare hands, too!" You say suddenly, recalling Spencer's little anecdote.
He exhales through his nose as he can feel the carefully crafted line between his work life and his personal life blurring. "He was intending to kill me and Reid."
"Well, I'm happy that you're always ready to defend yourself." You reassure him, grinning when he gazes at you softly. "I feel like I learned so much about you today."
"I don't want to indulge too much into my work." He says quietly, leaving no room for question. "It's not something you have to hear."
"But it's a huge part of your life. I don't need all the grisly details, of course. I just want you to be able to talk to me when you've had a hard case... when you're not feeling great about something that happened on the field." You supply with a gentle tone.
Aaron stays quiet for a moment and you take the chance to continue. "You don't have to hold your burdens in, Aaron. You've always stayed strong for everyone around you, so lean on me."
When you both get to his car, he gently guides you to face him, trapping you between the passenger door and his body. He leans to kiss your forehead as an adoring look ripples across his expression. "Thank you, sweetheart." He whispers against your skin and brushes his thumb across your cheek.
"Just doing what I can." You speak quietly, rubbing his sides a bit.
"Will you stay tonight? At my house." He requests with a tender look in his eyes. Even if you wanted to decline, the vulnerable expression painted across his face is enough to have your heart swelling with affection.
You nod and pull him in for a chaste kiss. "Of course."
When you and Aaron make it back to the Hotchner residence, you're immediately greeted by Jack's narrowed eyes. "What are you doing here?"
"I just missed you too much." You say with sarcastic longing, opening your arms for him.
His face twists in playful disgust and he tosses a pillow at you. "Ew, what the hell."
"Kidding. I'm staying the night." You explain with a light chuckle as you duck away from the pillow.
The soft object hits Aaron's chest and he shakes his head, dropping a kiss to your temple and placing the pillow back on the couch before walking up the stairs. "I'll be in the shower, honey."
"What's that?" Jack asks, stuffing some popcorn into his mouth as he pauses the show playing on the tv.
You hold up the small bag in your hand and walk toward him. "This?"
"Yeah, what'd you get?"
You pull out the tissue paper and hand him the small jewelry box. "Aaron bought me a necklace."
"Please don't tell me you're his sugar baby now. That's my inheritance you're messing with, you know." Jack huffs, looking at the necklace with interest.
You joke and take the box back. "Oh don't worry, you're already off the will."
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part 4 here
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etheries1015 · 10 months
Note
Because I have favorism towards the fae myself (And I'm sorry this is suggestive)
Remember Malleus' voice line about touching his hornes? Now, reader just touches them whenever they can be reached (like when Malleus is using their lap as a pillow) or stroking his tail whenever it's wrapped around Reader. Without realizing it's doing things to him.
Oh my gosh. Don't apologize for suggestive content, I love that shit. Feed me more of it. Heuheuheuheu.
Feeding a Faes hidden desires
Featuring: Malleus Draconia <3
General warnings: Gender neutral reader
18+ / suggestive content minors please don't interact~
It was difficult for Malleus Draconia to open up to people, he had to be the face of pure perfection for the sake of his kingdom. Every action he took, every word he said, would reflect upon Briar Valley and put his position as a prince in either light of greatness, or foolishness. The former was not an option for Malleus Draconia. He was given the best of the best when it came to his studies and academics, except, unfortunately, sex ed.
He understood the bare minimum of course, for reproduction was important for keeping the bloodline of the Draconias strong. What he was not well versed in, however, was the feeling of lust that came with reproduction. He never knew it could feel so... dirty.
When he had agreed to allow you to touch his horns when you insisted, he had no clue what kind of...desires this would stir up in him without realizing.
You had asked the draconic fae to touch his horns and his tail, and he spent a few times urging you otherwise in fear of harming you in some way. Yet it did not take him very long to feel curious and begin to imagine how your hands would feel upon his horns and extremities, starting out purely out of curiosity and the desire to be closer to you.
The first time you touched his horns was in the comfort of the lounge, he bent over for you to touch and feel them freely before being interrupted by Sebeks outraged cries of blasphemy. Since the moment your soft fingertips pressed against the roughness of his obsidian horns, he felt his body shudder at the contact, and something in him he decided to ignore screamed in his mind that it was perhaps a...dangerous endeavor. He had managed to suppress himself from such thoughts and desires, even allowing you to (on occasion) touch his horns and tail at your request. Never for too long, for when the thoughts returned he made a quick excuse to end the session. He wanted to respect you and your soft touch- not sully the romantic gesture with lustful thoughts.
He was often searching for your touch in many different ways, in hugs, cuddles, gentle kisses, holding hands...yet a few months and almost a year, he could feel himself become far more greedier. Malleus would notice the slight changes in himself when you would reach up to grab hold of something on a shelf, the way your shirt rode up your stomach ever so slightly, the way your hands would draw circles around the title page to get a feel for the book, he almost felt himself envious of the piece of literature. He told himself not to lose control, to hold himself together like a proper gentlefae, allowing you to only touch his draconic features on the rare occasion he felt he could keep himself properly composed.
Yet now there you were, in your room in Ramshackle dorm, sitting upon the lap of your lover gently caressing his smooth black horns absentmindedly. It was a comfortable atmosphere for you, being held lovingly by your tall fae significant other in silence while pouring your love and affection into your little pets upon his horns. You muttered a "beautiful..." before leaning up slightly...
and placing a kiss upon his horns.
Malleus let out a sudden high-pitched "urgh!" of surprise, his tail squeezing your waist slightly. Your eyebrows raised in shock, pulling away to look at your now flushed lover, feeling a bit of...excitement from down below. He suddenly removed his tail from your waist and seemed to want to move away from you, until you pushed your body on top of his own, straddling his waist and feeling his arousal between your thighs.
"I-i'm-" He gulped and let out a low moan, his hands shaking hesitantly mid air, not certain where he should place them, "I'm sorry- this is incredibly unbecoming of a king-" You hushed him with a rushed kiss and shook your head, the kiss lasting only a moment prior to you pulling away face as flushed as his and forehead pressed against his own.
"It's natural," You comforted him, "Do you...like it when I touch your horns, Mal...?" You hesitated your inquiry, his response a simple and slow nod giving you confidence to move your hands back to his horns and begin to rub them intimately. You felt his body twitch below you and his tail wrapped itself around your thigh, voice trembling. You hadn't seen the fae prince so shaken up before, so uncertain, so vulnerable. Only in front of you would he allow himself to lose such control.
"Are you...are you certain? I haven't any...experience," He muttered against the crook of your neck, arms wrapping around your body and hugging you tightly as if to console himself.
"It's okay," you murmured, hands removing themselves from his horns much to his whining displeasure of the sudden warmth disappearing from them, before shuddering once more as your attention shifted to his tail. Your finger trailed the scales and you felt him twitch between your thighs through his pants as his excitement stirred with every touch you placed upon his extremities.
"I...want it too," You purred.
Malleus's desire gauge was now at 100%
and you had no idea what you had just gotten yourself into.
~~~~
Masterlist
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algae-tm · 3 months
Text
AGORA HILLS
Daniel Ricciardo x rapper!Reader SMAU
Warnings : SUGGESTIVE content!! Reader and Daniel being horny for eachother on main
face claim : megan thee stallion
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
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danielricciardo : Locked in. It’s race week
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user7 : praying for a dr3 podium
— user5 : lmao you’ll need something stronger than prayer
user6 : can’t believe mother is dating this loser
youruser : whore
— user9 : 😅😨
youruser : I’m sorry I wasn’t aware I was running a brothel
youruser : who let you out of your cage long enough for you to post this
— user7 : girl pls ✋🏿 😭
youruser : who you trying to impress???? 😨😅
— danielricciardo : I’m sorry bookie, what can I do to make it up to you?
— youruser : you know what 😼🤭
— danielricciardo : on my way!
— landonorris : there are children on here!!!
— youruser : log off then norizz
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youruser : THANK UUU SO MUCH LONDON! Always a pleasure performing for you, truly one of the best crowds! Now if you’ll excuse me my man is waiting for me in our hotel room with nothing but edible underwear on 🤤
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lewishamilton : an amazing show as always y/n! But was that last part really necessary?
— youruser : yes
user7 : your free speech… hand it over!!!
user21 : how she’s so down bad over a man well past his prime i can’t understand 🤷🏼‍♀️
— youruser : PAST HIS PRIME!???log off NEOWWW
— user32 : I fear she’s dickmatised 😔
user45 : love that they’re still in the honeymoon phase
— user47 : FR!! I need all their secrets! after almost 3 years and they’re still so in love with each other
danielricciardo : AWOOGA
danielricciardo : woof woof bark bark
— oscarpiastri : 😨😨
danielricciardo : I ate the underwear 3 songs ago
— youruser : we can’t drive any faster 😭
TWITTER
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MESSAGES
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youruser : I see your “Danny Ric is a loser who doesn’t deserve y/n” and raise you “LOOK AT HIM, LOOK AT MY MAN, LOOK AT HIS BIG GORGEOUS, RIDEABLE NOSE, AND HIS TATTED THIGHS AND HIM IN A SUIT!!! RATTLING ON THE BARS OF MY ENCLOSURE!! I NEED HIM I NEED HIM I NEED HIM, GOD FORGIVE ME FOR EVERYTHING IM GOING TO DO TO THIS MAN WHEN I GET HOME FROM THIS DINNER, THE SLOPPIEST TOP THATS EVER GUNNA SLOP IS COMING HIS WAY!” oh btw Agora Hills out like rn! view all comments
maxverstappen1 : oh… uhm okay. NURSE SHES OUT AGAIN
— youruser : don’t be jealous cause I’m doing your man on the daily
— maxverstappen1 : 😨
— user65 : lmao y/n stays traumatising these drivers
landonorris : listened to the song! Great! Cool! Cool cool cool. Didn’t need to know all that but really good I guess
user70 : you know I’m starting to see the vision
lewishamilton : y/n… is this why youre on the phone rn?
— youruser : sorry wrong number
— lewishamilton : this is social media
— youruser : no habla ingles!!
user1 : not the random picture of you on the second slide
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hazelfoureyes · 6 months
Text
A Doe in Fall (part 4)
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⟢HumanAlastor x FemaleBurlesquerReader - A Doe in Fall
Part 1 - Pretty in Red smut💦 Part 2 - Liar smut💦 Part 3 - A Tragedy smut💦 Part 4 - Enough Part 5 - Too Much Part 6 - Learning smut💦 Part 7 - Recognition smut💦 Part 8 - Trust sexual 🥵 Part 9 - Shiny Things Part 10 - Good Deeds
Part 4 Enough
Alastor struggled with the prior expectations others had of him, but you eased them away with gentle hands. And to your great comfort, Tommy’s absence is noticed but not entirely shocking to anyone. With that concern behind him, finally, Alastor gives in to his own selfish wants and asks for your help with his “work.”
「Warnings/Promises: Human Alastor x Fem Burlesquer reader, No smut! No pussy eating! No fingering! It took away from the important events and Alastor’s mental health (I know he’s not real but he’s KINDA REAL?) so I didn’t include it. Next time! , Murder, dead bodies, allusions to bad things by bad men, Alastor has had bad times and will have bad times, bad kind of choking, domestic shit, Detective Brady, Obvious Sin」
You let Alastor start the shower, remembering people often complaining you turned it too hot. Stepping into the tub and drawing the curtain around, you told him to face the water so you could clean his back. It wasn’t dirty, you just wanted an excuse to touch and stare.
A moment of silence, you were a little scared to speak but had a question burning a hole in your pocket, “Do you like sex?” You ran the bar of soap down his back, no wash cloth in sight.
“It’s … pleasurable.”
Your mouth twisted, “I thought maybe…it didn’t work.”
He laughed, “You wouldn’t be the first. Works fine. I just don’t care to use it much. I don’t-“ a pause, he considered how to say it as he had never said it out loud before, “I don’t see the appeal, typically. There’s better ways to enjoy my time and chase pleasures than sweating over a stranger,” The word stranger floated in the air around you. Alastor felt the need to push it away, dispel it as quickly as he could, “Dancing is basically the same thing, which seems to be the issue with current society.”
“I can respect that. Well, I’m relieved you aren’t dependent on murder for an erection because I don’t think I can hide that many bodies.” A chuckle from him, but you grimaced. Not now, don’t joke now. Stop hiding from the uncomfortable vulnerability of blunt honesty. You were glad he couldn’t see your face, resting your head between his shoulder blades as you lazily washed his lower back and down, “Don’t push yourself. I know I’ve been-,”
“Affectionate?”
“Aggressive.” You winced, “your word is better. Just, I wont… I can't enjoy something you don’t want.” Your traced circles onto his skin, “I can't get my rocks off to someone’s bad time.” A smile you couldn’t see, small and warm. “I hope it’s obvious I won’t go anywhere.”
He laughed louder, offending you a little.
“Sorry, it’s just— yes that’s been made clear. I quite literally told you to stop following me and somehow here we are.” He looked over his shoulder at you and gestured for the soap. You shook your head no.
“Turn around.”
He paused.
“Not— not like that. Unless you want me to?” You would drop to your knees so fast you would damage the tub if he said yes.
“I’m good dear, thank you.”
The tub was safe.
You took your time, covering his chest in suds, his arms, his sides. You did get on your knees after all to wash his feet, his calves, his thighs. You stopped short of going any higher.
He looked down right bashful. It was so cute you wanted to shove your face into his crotch and scream. 
Alastor wasn’t used to people handling him. Not outside of uncomfortable situations. The order of events typically went as follows:
Date makes a move. Alastor politely redirects. Date gets annoyed because it’s not the first time he’s done this. Alastor offers other ways to please them, be it his hands or his mouth. They either get sad (‘You think I’m repulsive, don’t you?!’) or angry (‘What kind of man are you?’). 
If he didn’t find them worth the effort, he would simply end the date then and there. But if he liked them enough, enjoyed their company enough, needed them for some purpose enough, he would acquiesce. They would touch him, and he would react like the touch-me-not plant he used to harass as a child, moving without thought from the stimulation. And he’d think about more engaging things until he got them to  finish or he could say he did. 
And it would buy a little more time with good enough affection and good enough company and good enough reasons. 
Good enough. ‘Enough’ was right there in the phrase. 
And then it would repeat until someone gave up.
When he didn’t move or reply as your hands sat where his thighs met his hips, lost in some train of thought, you left it be and stood. Lathering your hands, “One spot left!”
He suddenly looked so tired, eyebrows rising as if to ask you ‘what’s that?’ yet the dullness of his eyes indicated he wasn’t actually asking. 
But like a fall from a mildly scary height into the sea, thrilling but safe, he tensed as your hands moved. When you began to wash his face, he hit the water feet first.  His shoulders noticeably relaxed, and you thought you saw his chin shake a little, but you let it go to rub circles on his cheeks. You got behind his ears and under his chin. You tried to make a mustache but the soap didn’t lather well enough for that.
“You’re not missing out. I don't look good in facial hair.” He said, and you believed it. 
You handed him the soap and let him finish cleaning himself, trying to steal looks without being too obvious. Making a mental note to yourself for every piece of him to compliment later when he was more comfortable.
It tickled when he washed you, those soft fingers making bubbles across your skin. The steam was dampening his hair. Ah, you just noticed he wasn’t wearing glasses.
“Can you see? Without the glasses?” He was down now, cleaning your already clean legs.
“Ah, well, no.”
You held up 7 fingers.
He squinted then made his eyes wide, “Hmm…. Two hands.” You pushed him down with your foot to his chest, him catching himself with his arm. “At least I didn’t say three, dear.” 
You play kicked, “Unfunny!”
When he laughed now he looked boyish. His laughter bright as a bell. It was so jarring that it made your subconscious remind you of the dead man lying in the other room. The juxtaposition impossible to ignore.
Alastor noticed the shift in the air, getting up and setting the soap down on the lip of the tub. His hands rubbed your cheeks, your chin, your nose.
“You can leave after you’re all cleaned and dressed.” He was looking at your nose as he spoke.
“I can do anything I damn well want.” Your eyes skirted around his face before making him meet your gaze, “Atleast to the car. Okay?” Suddenly insecure about how aggressive you were, “Please.” 
Alastor nodded, could he see your smile? You could see his.
It was unspoken, and somehow equally shocking as the night you grabbed a dead man by the legs, that you dressed each other. Domestic was the only word for it and it was downright frightening for you.
But your body didn’t stop, some magnets in your fingertips drawn to the buttons of his shirt, to the collar you adjusted, to his glasses that you rested on the bridge of his nose.
Alastor hadn’t any idea what he was doing, perhaps his mother had told him to do this and he had long forgotten it. Maybe he saw it in a movie. Or read it in a book. But gingerly, as you sat on a side of the bed away from Tommy, he knelt and rolled up your stockings, watching as you clipped them to the garter belt. He slipped on your shoes and took your hand to help you stand. As you put on your dress his hands took the buttons at the bottom and yours took the top, meeting in the center. His newly clean fingers straightened out the wrinkles.
He avoided looking you in the eyes, something heavy in the space between you two telling him the air might catch fire if he did. He didn’t know what that meant, and he had done enough new things for one evening. 
“Can I ask you something?” He took the twine that tied the clothes together and began looping it through eyelets in the canvas.
“Of course.” He could ask you anything, if you answered was still up in the air.
“Why did you work for a man like that?” Continuing to avoid your face, he busied himself with drawing the sides and corners of the canvas up like a giant sachet.
A good question. One you would think he’d have asked before the murder. “He wasn’t like that before. This whole… thing was a recent shift. I know it was gambling but I think he was getting into some hard drugs too. His behavior had just gotten erratic.”
He tied the twine tightly, “It seemed impulse control was an issue for him, given his brief conversation with me. This-,” he pointed at you, suddenly full of passion again, “This is what I meant. I don’t talk to men for long. What a terrible conversation that was.” You fought back a smile. “Was he bragging? You wouldn’t believe the number of men— well I suppose yes you would.” He pushed up his sleeves and held them in place with arm bands, “If that is the typical sexual tendencies of men then I’m glad to see I evolved past it.” Alastor was spewing a stream of consciousness that even you could tell was out of character. 
Or perhaps, “I have a feeling you’d be saying all this if I were here or not.” You stared down at the canvas bundle.
That smile again, “Normally it’s under my breath but— they don’t seem to mind!” He gave the bundle a tug, checking for the sturdiness of the twine.“So, usually I do this closer to the car…” 
It was unladylike and you loved it, legs open wide as you lifted your half of the bloody package. You lumbered down the tight stairwell as he went backwards, insisting it was the gentlemanly thing to do. There was a moment you were alone at the bottom of the stairs as Alastor brought the car around. You gave the body a little kick, “Why’d you have to go and be such an ass?” Mumbled under your breath like a professional.
As you both stood there, trunk full of Tommy between you, you were unaware of what little wildfires you’d set off in the other.
Alastor felt his stomach flipping, an impulse to grab your face with both hands and kiss you making his fingers tap the roof of the car. He was worried if he did, he wouldn’t be able to stop. An issue he had never had before, but it still felt like an issue nonetheless. It was, wasn’t it? An issue?
Something in you felt like the good wife in the doorway, waving your darling off to work in the morning. Wanting to plant a kiss on his cheek and straighten his bow tie. If you’d seen a neighbor do it you’d roll your eyes and fake a gag, but you wanted to give it to him. You wanted to give him consistent adoration he could rely on and that was the only example you could think of. A nervous hand considered clawing the feeling out of your chest entirely.
You both decided to play it cool,  Alastor dialling back the urge and planting a single kiss to your nose. You hummed, “If anyone asks…”
“You saw Tommy take the cash and leave.” Alastor said quickly, so confident you could believe maybe you had.
You nodded. Biting your bottom lip you stopped the urge to offer more help. Trust needed to exist that he’d ask for it if he wanted to. 
Maybe your face was losing its skill, mask dissolving under the events of the night, because a grin spread across his face, “Baby steps.”
Always scared of letting him slip through your fingers, you tried to hide how badly you needed another date to look forward to. Pursing your lips, “Speaking of, we’ve checked off public acts of indecency, a dance hall romp, and now some gentle sex near a formerly living man. Would you like to get coffee this week?”
“In the daytime?” False incredulity
“Fully clothed.” You added.
If he hadn’t stifled his laughter, it could have been dangerous, “Scandalous.” A small panic, he hadn’t actually agreed yet. An unfamiliar feeling of insecurity came down on you like a mistimed curtain fall. 
“I’ll need a few days…Saturday, at ten, the little cafe at the west entrance of our favorite park?”
Our. Your knees buckled a little. 
“Sounds positively deviant. I’ll be there with bells on.” Why was your heart pounding now. Why now?
“It’s a date then.” A kiss to your cheek, he tensed, holding back. “Can I drive you home?,” it was spoken into your skin. His lips not leaving your face. 
“I have to go back in. Tell everyone how much of an ass Tommy is for leaving me all alone with that wealthy bore.” Your cheek leaned into his kiss. His lips dragged across your skin to find your mouth, still open.
He exhaled, shakey and slow. Your eyes saw something new; dilated pupils staring down at you. A heat was pooling in your lap again, never so receptive to a pair of eyes before.
“Should I come back?” He knew he shouldn’t.
Luckily so did you. “You know I’m not far from here. Just get home, or wherever you're going, safely.” He finally let his mouth capture yours, his hands roaming the soft fabric of your dress. Red, smooth, warm. You broke away, pulling from some well of strength you didn’t know you had, “If the girls see— there’s no motive quite like a jealous man.”
That grin erupted, beaming a toothy smile that warmed you to your core, “Endlessly fascinating.” His fingers lingered on you until they were pulled away by the limits of his reach, him backing up to the car door, “Be safe. Good night.”
Your legs crossed one in front of the other, had a man ever considered your safety enough to say it out loud? Without adding some patronizing addition like “little lady” or “pretty thing” to it that felt more like an admission of intent? “Good night.”
Alastor rode home in silence, sometimes so lost in thought he would snap back to reality and realize he had no idea how long he had been driving. It would take a second but he would confirm he was still on the right path. 
It was too soon to bring you to his home. He knew that was a logical statement. However, every other part of him wanted to carry you over his shoulder into his house and show you around, excited to hear your responses to the details of his safe harbor. He could cook for you. You two could push the sofa back and dance in the sitting room. The back porch was lovely for early morning reading.
An incorporeal pain tore through his stomach. 
Hands gripping the steering wheel, bright eyes popping up from the tall grass as he rumbled past. 
He was getting ahead of himself again. All of the idioms he was taught were going up in flames. 
‘Don’t put the cart before the horse.’
Unfortunately he had guilded the cart as well, so weighted with the gold of his hopes he was worried the axis would snap.
‘Don’t put all your eggs in one basket.’ 
He had saddled you with an entire coop of his joy. Unfair and unwise.
‘Pearls before swine’
He was, like many men, reduced to a greedy mouthed animal at your feet, incapable of appreciating your attention as it should be. But he didn’t want you to stop. Perhaps a pig could learn?
So much for evolved. 
As he pulled into the dirt driveway of what was his father’s home, then his mother’s home, now his own, he wondered what your first thoughts would be. Would you like it? Were you expecting something grander? Something shiny and new? 
When he was backed up to the greenhouse he rested his head against the steering wheel. 
The smell of the soap was heating up with his thoughts, remembering your hands. You smelled the same now tonight, the same soap. What an intimate thing to share. Could he ever hope to share such things with someone, or was it foolish to spend time thinking about it? 
Alastor would give nearly anything to share a set of plates with someone gentle, to have a set of hand towels in the bathroom for himself and someone patient, to warm two mugs in the morning with coffee for himself and someone understanding.
A secret little dream he threw away shortly after entering adulthood. Which was fine for him. If having those niceties meant having to fake that a part of himself mattered more than it did, he didn’t want them. Not that much. He was already putting on a show outside, he couldn’t bring the audience into his home. His mother’s home. 
As he grappled with Tommy’s impromptu shroud, he considered his outward image. 
He was proud of it. He chose to have it, it was a tool that got him far in life and elevated his status. No qualms. Just, when you expect to do something all of your life alone, it’s foundation shaking to learn perhaps you didn’t have to.
He had convinced himself he preferred to be alone. But now it seemed maybe he had been lying to himself. At some point he confused accepting a situation with preferring it. 
He stared down at Tommy’s pale face, clothes dirty and body stiffening on the metal work station of the greenhouse. He probably would never have learned about Tommy if not for you. No rumors or whispers or warnings about a theater manager abusing the artists in his employ were floating around.
Again, he felt his chest tightening. It didn’t matter if he had had the man already in his sights or not. He would have killed him. Alastor ran his hands through his hair. Would you have stopped him, would he have let you, if you swore Tommy didn’t deserve to die?
No. A silly rhetorical. Had you begged on your knees with tear stained eyes he’d have kissed your cheeks and said whatever you asked to hear. And then he would wait for Tommy to be alone in a dark place like he did the others. And he would avoid looking you in the eye for as long as he had to, until you forgot about the former employer.
With a single and soft clap of his hands he shut his mind off and went about his work. Now wasn't the time for questions and what-ifs. He needed to make Tommy disappear as soon as possible. He didn’t usually kill so close together in time. A brief thought slipped through the cracks of his walls, This would be easier with help. 
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
No one noticed Tommy was missing until the following night. But given he’d gotten a considerable payday Monday the staff just assumed he was off snorting his profits. 
It wasn’t until Wednesday morning did police come by, Tommy’s mother having called in a missing person’s report.
You heard the girls speaking to the detective outside the dressing room before rehearsals. 
“This is typical Tommy.”
“He’s been dabbling into some heavy stuff.”
“You didn’t hear it from me, but! I heard he got,” you couldn’t see what she was doing, “ya know?”
When the detective looked into the dressing room and asked who he hadn’t spoken with, your eyes met in the mirror, recognition painting his face. 
“Detective Brady! The assistant manager can talk now.” Someone called from down the hall. You continued covering your bruises, hoping he hadn’t noticed them. With a pat to the door frame, metal ring clinking, he left.
He didn’t have time to speak with all of you before it was doors open and left before the show began. As soon as you got home you fished around in your key bowl for the crinkled card.
You dropped it back in, hands coming to your face. Of course. Why would it be any other man?
Deep breathes. It isn’t strange he ran into you before, you worked and lived in the area. He probably handed that card to every woman he passed at night. 
Slow breathes. The girls did the legwork, just follow suit. You were a single woman. No one would suspect you of anything unless they found a smoking gun under your pillow. Even then, if you could bat your eyelashes enough and find a  dainty enough cross necklace you could beat any rap. 
All you wanted now was to see Alastor and tell him. Three more days.
Surprisingly, the theater ran perfectly smoothly without Tommy. James, the assistant, stepped up and everything carried on as usual. The detective didn’t come back, either. Rumor in the dressing room was that Tommy had been an open-and-close case of bad decisions leading to bad outcomes.
There was a sadness at the theater regardless, no one having heard any news. He had wandered off before but he always returned in time for the big weekend shows. But Friday night came and went and Tommy never showed. Which for you was expected, but the other staff seemed worried. The girls, not so much. 
You weren’t as scared as you had thought you’d be. For yourself, atleast. You would rather die than let Alastor be found out because of you. Maybe he would have advice to ease you. Even if he didn’t, you’d be comforted getting him up to speed.
Knowing you’d see Alastor soon was like knowing when the next big rain was coming. You spent all week planning your time around it. 
Except for the small detail that you hadn’t actually known where the west entrance was to the park, or even that the gates had names. But you found it easily enough. As you approached you could see him waiting, a blue suit without the jacket, was there a color he wouldn’t look charming in? 
No. Silly questions seemed to be in the air lately.
You slowed as you approached, him hearing the click of your shoes and turning before you could gather your thoughts. This was the first time to see him in the daylight. 
His mouth was moving but you didn’t hear anything, brain short circuiting. His hair looked so much brighter in the sunlight, sun passing through brown locks. You could see his eyes looking at you, brows rising as he questioned something, but your thoughts were arrested by the color of the gaze you’d spent weeks trying to get into the focus of; a bright honey brown that seemed to shimmer. A little pop of light bounced off a button of his vest, his smile gleamed as he leaned towards you.
Run. You had no business here. A possibly soon-to-be criminalized dancer and him. You should have worn a better dress. Should have gotten your hair done. Should have better.
Alastor couldn’t figure out what your face was saying. He was proficient in reading the expressions of others, in discerning the changes in the air of any given room, but this… he couldn’t place. Your eyes were wide, smile taut and flat as you took a step backward. His hand reached out to stabilize you, your heel catching on the uneven pavement of the lesser cared for wards of the city.
“What’s wrong?” His smile softened. 
You spoke without thinking, something you never did, “You’re too beautiful. I should go.” Your attempt to turn away only half in jest. His bright laugh rang out, melting the muscles of your legs. 
“That’s a new one.” His fingers lingered on your arm, “You can pick a seat, I’ll grab coffee. No staff on the patio.”
Considering fleeing still, you thought about how sad he would be standing there with two coffees in his hands. The weather was quickly cooling, but in the early sun the outdoor seating was perfect for a coffee date. 
Shaking off the nerves, you tried to get a fucking grip. You adored your physical form, you had no issues thinking you deserved whatever you wanted to have. But, well, it was like he was glowing from the inside out. Even his skin seemed to catch the light. There was that quick heart beat again. You looked through the glass front, Alastor in line. If you had gone through with the plan to rob him, and had he returned in the daylight to argue with you… you’d have just handed back his wallet and maybe even your own. 
The least attractive thing about him was his money, strange considering it was normally the most important thing a man had in his pocket for you. 
Did he know? That you had been-
“Autumn, was it?”
You heard something in your neck pop as your head spun toward the voice. The color left your face, you stood so quickly you almost knocked the chair over.
“Detective! What a blessing!” Your hands were trembling as you reached out for one of his with both of yours, “You’ve been on my mind lately.”
The detective, tall and lean, eyes a striking cool blue and hair the color of wheat, removed his hat. “Oh?”
“Yes. I never got a chance to thank you for saving me last week. That man was just not taking no for an answer.” You took several steps to the left, making his back turn towards the cafe doors. 
“I thought maybe you’d been cross with me. You ran off like-.”
“I was just nervous. I didn’t know if you were for real or just another trickster trying to get a lady alone.” You stared at his eyes, trying to keep him focused on you. 
“Ah, well, you had good reason to be. Lucky coincidence seeing you here.” He set his hat under his arm, “I was just headed to your manager’s mother’s home.”
Your eyes flitted to the counter, back to Brady. “Oh? Is…is it bad news, sir?” 
“Not a trace of the man. But, that isn’t uncommon down here I suppose.” The detective sat down at the table you’d been at….you stayed standing. He motioned for you to take a seat, “That being said, I don’t think Tommy just wandered off with some cash.”
Were you wearing your perspiration pads under your dress? You think you were. If not, maybe you could just spill water on yourself and say it was a stain. Stiff, you took a seat. 
“I was hoping to interview the rest of you ladies. I was going to stop by tomorrow but, if you have a moment, what can you tell me about him?” His eyes looked like ice, their effect similar as a chill ran down your spine. 
“Well, oh geez… I don’t want to speak ill of anyone, ever.” Your hard learned skills were coming back to you. Your hands came together to shyly fidget with each other. 
“Consider it a help to the police, no worries ma’am.”
“Miss.” You corrected, that practiced smile small and chaste, “I’m not married, sir. As you can imagine, in my profession, it is very hard to come by good, honest men.”
A chuckle, he put his hat down on the table. Fuck. Fuck! 
“But, uh, yes. I can tell you quite a bit. Tommy was a fine man. For awhile. He was very respectful to us. A clean and tight ship.” You saw the door open behind him, Alastor using his back as his hands were full. “But, the last three months or so, he started getting mean.” You leaned forward, putting your left hand on Brady’s that rested on his hat. Your right hand slipped to the side and under the table, waving frantically to Alastor to turn back around.
Without question he swiveled on his heels, sitting down at another empty table near the cafe doors with his back to you.
You gripped his hand and the hat with one motion, and set it back on his head, “If he saw me talking to a flat foot…it could be a lot of trouble. Maybe we should speak privately.”
Why were you incapable of finding a balance between honey and venom? Your words came out too sweet, voice dipping into the tone you reserved for marks.
“Ah, well…Miss Autumn-,” Brady shifted in his seat.
You stood up, slapping his shoulder, “I meant the theater! Sir!”
He flustered, shaking his head and standing too, “I didn’t say anything!” His nervous laughter eased you, walking further from the table so he would follow. “Well, I’ll be by tomorrow. Maybe we can finish this conversation.“
A nod, not at all intending to tell him you didn’t work Sundays, “That sounds good. Anything I can do to help. But really, I expect Tommy will show up as soon as the cash runs dry.”
With a tip of the hat, he walked off to bring bad news somewhere else. 
You waited a moment before moving to the seat across Alastor. You thought your bones had turned to jelly, “Thanks for the rerouting. Was I obviously rattled?” You were mortified.
“No, not at all!” Alastor set the cup in front of you. “A former beau?”
You shook your head, “Worse. Detective Brady back there came by the theater this week, but didn’t have time to speak to me. Just so happened to see me now on his way to Tommy’s mom. Actually, that was something I wanted to tell you. I’ve met him before.”
His brows rose, blowing slightly on the coffee, “Oh? A patron of your theater?”
“No. That night with Legs. He stopped me a quite a few blocks before I found you. Gave me his card and a warning about missing people and something about little ladies being out at night.”
Alastor nodded, unphazed.
“Should I be worried? Because I’m worried.” You couldn’t even touch your drink, stomach in knots. He smiled, breaking the spell Brady had cast over you.
“Without a body there is no proof anyone is dead. That’s all that matters.” Alastor was cocky, leaning back in his chair with a far too relaxed demeanor.
You hadn’t realized your shoulders were so tight, “Sorry for shooing you away. I just got so scared! If he knows I,” You caught yourself, face going red as you corrected, “thought I had a guy, it could put you under a spotlight.”
His hand came over and gently rubbed your open palm with his thumb, “You’re right. That was smart, thank you.” Alastor smiled brighter, “Now! Let’s put that behind us. I don’t have a terribly long time. There’s a couple things to discuss. Most importantly,” he leaned over the table, face serious, “You think I’m beautiful?”
You kicked at his shin under the table, “My heart nearly stopped! I thought it was something important! Unfunny!”
A snicker, “Cruel?”
You nodded, “Very!”
It was by most people standards a normal date. It only strayed from mundane when Alastor walked you home and asked if you had any nightmares about Tommy. 
When you told him you hadn’t slept that well in weeks, and thanked him softly for his affection as you felt that had something to do with it, he hummed happily. He offered you his home phone number, you gesturing to the phone box at the corner in return. 
The nights were busy, so you often spoke in the mornings before his work. You’d made somewhat of a schedule, waiting in the booth around when you knew he was up and settling with coffee. He’d call, you’d ramble about your evening and what wild thing happened. Luckily the detective never returned after his Sunday visit so your stories were just fun and lighthearted. His laughter sounded so good over the staticy phone line. He would tell you about his work, about the bands he had the pleasure of hearing. New Orleans was the undisputed mother of jazz, and it showed in the fervor of his audience. It wasn’t uncommon he was busy keeping up with demand for more big and new sounds. 
While you enjoyed every opportunity to see him, be it coffee at a different cafe than the first or a walk around forested areas you knew were of use to him, the calls were nice. It allowed you to enjoy him without worrying about putting any undue pressure on him. You could twirl your phone cord and bite your lip without concern.
But finally, the moment you’d been waiting for. You called Alastor and he sounded tense, like he hadn’t slept. With a simple “What’s wrong?”, he asked if you’d want to help him with work.
The first one was almost too easy. Alastor had you wait at a bar where a man he clued you in on frequented. A staff member of his station had missed work for several days, supposedly sick. Alastor got the real story from eavesdropping on the ladies at lunch. The man, Mr. A. Wellington, was next. After watching and waiting, Alastor knew the man’s patterns well enough. Including you was a risk, but he had been fighting the urge to ask you for so long now. This one seemed it would be cut and dry. 
All it took was a smirk, a well placed hand, a laugh. The man practically pushed you down the back stairs of the bar and out through the doors that led to the service street. So engrossed in ignoring your suggestion of slowing down, he didn’t hear or see Alastor standing feet beside you both. 
The look of betrayal on the man’s face as his eyes flew from Alastor back to you increased Alastor’s high was three fold. He asked the man, already too gone to reply, if he remembered his staffer. “You should. She’ll always remember you.” 
You leaned against the door that led back to the hotel bar. Your eyes and ears were open for any unwanted company, any possible danger. Other than your own little madman. Alastor took this one personally, you could tell by how much messier he was than the first two.
While he didn’t explicitly state his code of ethics for selecting “victims”, you had picked up on the pattern. A man who assaulted a young woman, a wife beater, a violent segregationist. 
Was he really doing bad things? You found it hard to pity any of them.
Once the messy part was done you’d help get the man, as it always had been so far, into the trunk. You’d share a few kisses and clean the scene before being driven home, where you’d share a few more. Your favorite part, by far.  And after you waved, he’d drive off to wherever he went with the dead men. 
But one night was atypical. One night was downright horrible.
You lured a man into a large park beside the water. A part of you almost felt bad, as he sweetly held your hand. He had been a perfect gentleman, you seducing him at a dance hall. Alastor had warned you he was dangerous, but you wondered for a second if he was Dangerous or dangerous. Like Alastor-dangerous.
You found your answer when the man smiled down at you, telling you how beautiful you looked in the starlight, how you’d stay so beautiful forever, and wrapped his hands around your neck. Capital “D” Dangerous. 
The man was knocked off balance by Alastor tackling him from the side. You all three fell into the dirt and grass. The wind was forced out of you from the impact, your hands failing to get traction as you tried to sit up. The ground was slick with mud from recent rains flooding the rivers. Hurricane season was already in full swing.
The man wasn’t huge, but he was larger than Alastor. You watched the men struggle, slippery ground complicating Alastor’s attempts to stay upright as he straddled the man, and he couldn’t get leverage enough to bring down the knife. Horrified, you sat on your legs feeling helpless as the man lifted himself and Alastor off the ground entirely and tossed him onto his back. A small cry, Alastor rolled away revealing a rock where his back had landed.
The man only needed one of his large hands to wrap around Alastor’s throat but he used two for the fun of it. Your shoes slipped off as you struggled to get to your feet like a baby deer newly introduced to the world. Everything was wet and spinning, your lungs were burning. 
Alastor didn’t feel scared as his vision went black, just annoyed he had fucked up.
Even that feeling washed away as a grayness flooded into his consciousness. Everything lost color, flavor, texture. All urgency inked out. 
Before everything slipped away, before he slipped under, he thought he heard his mother calling his name.
He thought he heard you scream. 
Part 5 is halfway done 👌
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🏹Alastor stalkers: @celestial-vomit , @amurtan
@faeoffaith ,
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caxde · 6 months
Text
bright eyes | eddie munson x reader
summary you and Eddie have just become a couple, you meet hellfire club, Wayne finally meets you, navigating your relationship with him and his little girl (6.8k)
warnings fem!reader, girl!dad Eddie!!!!, fluff, mutual pining, yearning etc, slowburn strangers to lovers, idiots in love!!!, , english is not my first language so I apologise if there’s some mistakes, not proof read! 
a/n: thank you guys for the support, and thanks to the lovely @criesinlies for her help and motivation, this one is for u babe <3 part1 part2 part 3 (they can be read seperatly)
“As you feel the air collapse in your lungs, I’m gonna need a constitution saving throw from you, Tayr.” Eddie explains, as his voice changes into that dramatic tone he always uses when he’s in the middle of a session, pointing at Mike who is stunned and on the verge of having a meltdown. 
“Wha-Whaddumean the air collapses in my lungs?” He asks frantically, as he shuffles through papers, trying to find something that will get him out of this, his die on his hand, rattling anxiously. 
“Counterspell!” Will screams, his hand on reaching for Eddie, he just scoffs. 
“It’s not a spell.” His voice remains calm, not stopping the visual contact he had going on, enjoying the menacing aura he had going on, something he didn’t get to do as often now that most of the stories and voices he could do were the ones for bedtime so Lua would fall asleep. 
He enjoyed looking at the chaos that ensued at the table, how they all were chatting amongst themselves, trying to find a solution, something useful so Mike’s character wouldn't die. 
Eddie hears the soft knocks on the door, his eyebrows raise a bit as he looks over at the trailer. The kids were around the table, buried deep with character sheets and spell cards, Max and El were on the living room floor drawing and colouring with Lua, Steve and Robin weren’t supposed to come pick them up for another forty minutes and uncle Wayne had yet to come back from work. 
He made his way to the front door, excusing himself from his usual DM spot, Dustin nodding in understanding, a curious look on his face as he looked over at him, and who could be behind the door. 
You had left work a bit earlier, for once they actually respected your work hours, and understood that if you started your shift at ten in the morning, you shouldn’t stay past six in the afternoon. So for once, you were back in the trailer park beforehalf past, and lucky for you, you caught some pastries they wanted to throw out, they said they were too old to sell, but you had baked them yesterday night, so you knew for a fact the blueberry muffins that where Lua’s favourite and the Cinnamon rolls that Eddie liked were good to take. 
So, there you were, your work clothes still on, and a little cardboard box in your hands. 
You looked up at him, as soon as he opened the door and his head tilted ever so slightly to the right, your lips were already curving upwards as you made eye contact with him. His eyes melting a bit at the sight of you, he made a step back, letting you in. 
You didn’t really have any reason to be alert, you were just happy to see him, and excited to do so, even if the nerves of the dinner you had in a couple hours were starting to manifest in your body, you paid them no mind. Instead, you pointed your feet up, the distance between both of your bodies closing, a small peck left on his lips from yours. He smiled as he always does when you kiss him. 
You realised right there that something strange was going on, when the usual noise that rummaged through his trailer was gone. Even worse, the noise you had heard from the other side of the door had ceased, you pulled away, not too far for that matter, your body still a breath away from his, his hand resting on your waist. 
“Got out of work earlier, they gave me some sweets… I thought maybe Lua..” That’s when you realised that he wasn’t exactly alone. 
There was a group of kids sitting around a table, their eyes about to pop out of their heads, mouths opened in shock, whilst Lua was in the company of two girls. You recognized the red head, Max lived a couple trailers down from you, she always had some kind words to say about your outfit, and you had helped her a couple of times when her mom was away and her washing machine was making the same funny sound as yours did. 
She was the one that seemed more shocked out of them all, standing up in one swift movement as Lua clocked that you were there. Her usual gigle as a greeting as she started walking clumsily to your feet, her arms opened for you to hug her. Eddie gave you the same nod he always did, as he took a step further from you and took the little box with sweets out of your hands. It always happened when Lua wanted attention from you, you looked over at Eddie a ‘is this okay? can i hold her?’ look he had become used to, and that he absolutely adored. 
“Princess!” Lua cheered as she wrapped her arms lazily on the back of your neck, Eddie had told you about the whole princess accident, and you had become somehow warmed up about the nickname that she had gifted you. You pulled her in a warm hug. 
“Hi dude, you doing okay?” You asked, your voice higher in pitch as it always did when you talked to her. 
“Yeah. Friends over!” She pointed out to the two girls that remained silent on the floor, her mouth still slightly opened. 
“Eddie you rat!” Max broke the silence, the cascade of comments starting to flow as the kids were coming out of shock. “I live right next to you, how did I not know!” She continued, you looked at her, a bit afraid of her if you were being honest. Her hard tone contradicts with her wide smile. 
“Is she your girlfriend?” One of the boys asked from the table, his tan skin made his blue shirt pop, just as much as his question did. Making you both blush in a similar way, looking at each other, Lua looking between the both of you, still on your arms. 
“She’s dada’s princess.” She explains, as best as she could, her sweet words making you chuckle, as Eddie took her from your arms, pulling her in a soft embrace. 
“Yes, and she got you a snack, d’you want some?” Eddie rattled the box, and Lua’s eyes widened as she cheered. 
The chattering continued as you sort of stood in the middle of the room, not sure where to go to, or what to do now. 
“How did he get you to agree to go out with him?” A boy with curly hair half covered with a cap that had some writing you couldn’t quite read spoke, an incredulous tone evident by the way his face looked, a raised eyebrow following his question. 
“It wasn’t that hard, really… he just… asked?” You could hear Eddie laughing from the kitchen, the sound of it making your shoulders relax, you weren’t used to that much attention. 
“Unbelievable, I should have been asking Eddie the Freak Munson for girl advice, not King Steve… who would have known.” The same boy replayed, you caught the same dramatic voice and flare you had caught on Eddie a few times, it made you chuckle. 
“Eddie the Freak?” You questioned, more to yourself than to anyone else, as you took a step closer to the table.
“Oh, yeah. He’s a big nerd, even bigger when he was in High School.” Max was the one talking now, teasing him as Eddie walked out the kitchen, arms crossed over his chest. 
Lua was walking with a plastic plate on her hand, half of the muffin on it. She was trying really carefully to not drop it, concentrating on finding her way to the couch. 
“Hey, enough teasing the one that’s housing you, ‘kay?” That was an expression you still haven’t seen or heard in Eddie. His head tilted to the left, his hair falling a bit in front of his face, his eyes wider before he closed them a bit, his lips pressing against each other. Eddie was embarrassed, and didn’t really know how to manage it. 
“Yeah, we’re literally in the middle of a campaign.” The boy with the black hair and arched nose points out frantically gesturing at the board on top of the table. “I might be dying!” Urgency comes back into his voice, and you can see the way Eddie tries to mask a laugh, his hand hiding his smile, only growing when he makes eye contact with you. 
“Well, at least someone kisses her girlfriend.” The girl that was beside Max and had been quiet spoke out, a spec of hurt in her voice. Her words made the boy that was somehow about to die shake his head in disbelief at her, while Max and the two other boys that had spoken chuckle. The boy that hadn’t spoken yet looked at the dying boy longley. 
Eddie enjoyed the teasing when it wasn’t focused on him, so he let out a chuckle as soon as she heard how El teased Mike back for not being as affectionate as he was. Then again, Eddie was aware that he was highly affectionate, and even now, not being next to you, or holding your hand was a weird feeling now that he could call you his girlfriend. 
Maybe that’s why he uses the small moment where they were chuckling and quietly teasing Mike to walk over you, his hand finally resting on the small of your back, where it fits in a perfect way, the small touch reassuring you in a way you didn’t think possible. Your head spins to look at him, his eyes half closed when they meet yours, he can’t help but leave a small kiss on your forehead. And you can’t help but rest your head on his chest as soon as he breaks the tiny kiss. 
“Okay, roll call or they won’t stop looking at us weird.” Eddie half jokes as he speaks up, you just enjoy the way his chest vibrates when he talks, for a moment you let yourself daydreaming of the day you get to sleep with him as close as you were now. “You know Max.” You nod as the red haired girl looks up at you again, before sitting down back on the floor. “That’s El” The one that had teased the other boy about kissing mouthed a silent hi, her eyebrows slightly raised “She also goes by Jane.” Eddie turns to your ear, whispering it to you. 
“Dustin, Henderson. Though right now I’m Nog.” The boy with the curled covered hair spoke next, he seemed excited to meet you, his smile was contagious. 
“Uh… Okay?” You weren’t exactly sure what he meant with right now, and you had a habit of not masking your emotions, so your face could be read like a poem, your eyebrows raised in misunderstanding and confusion. 
“She doesn’t know about D&D?” The boy that was supposedly dying erupted again, and you heard Eddie audibly roll his eyes. 
“It doesn’t matter.”The guy next to him talked, though he almost cut him off, frustration on his voice, the rest of the party scoffed and tried to hide a chuckle “I’m Will, or Will the Wise. He’s Mike, or Tayr in this case.” He pointed to them both, you nodded, trying hard to remember everyone’s names. 
“I’m Lucas or Sundar the Bold, also Max’s sometimes boyfriend.” He tries to charm the girl who just rolls her eyes as she shakes her head. Even if you clock a soft curving of her lips. 
You smile to yourself, trying to hold as much information as you can. 
“Do you also have a second name?” 
Eddie laughs, as he pushes a little hair away from his face, tucking it away nicely under his ear. 
“No, I uh… I’m the, uh… Dungeon Master.” 
“What’s-”
Luckily for Eddie, Steve walked in at that moment. Robin followed him closely. Giving him another moment of quietness and self reflection as they walked inside, observing the scene as they did.
He had never been embarrassed about playing, or anything of that matter, but for some stupid reason that he wasn’t sure of, he felt just that seeing you in his space when he was not expecting it. He wasn’t prepared, for you to see him actively nerding out, even worse, when the stakes at the table were as high. 
“I think we got here a bit early, Steve.” Robin pointed out, her voice doing that sing along tone that you found charming. Lua waved at them from the couch where she was still enjoying her little treat. The reason you were here after all. 
“Oh, shi-” Eddie glared down at him before he could finish the sentence, a quick nod to the little girl listening in. “You’re one to talk.” 
“You are!” Dustin halved screamed from his chair, an accusatory finger pointing at him. “You’re the one giving out girl advice, while Eddie somehow managed to find a respectfully hot girl to go out with him.” You can’t help but giggle at the way he said respectfully, his mouth enunciating every syllable of the word while he looked at you in an apologetic way. 
Eddie blushed harder, the palm of his hand hitting his forehead. The vein on his neck grows larger every second. Unlucky for him, and due to the fact that he was far too distracted, he missed the look on your face when you caught that, the half second where the image of Eddie biting his lower lip trying to hide a cocky smile as his vein pulsed had made your thighs clench, and your eyes darken. 
“Henderson’s right, Steve” Robin added in her teasing tone, her words felt like they had an extra space written in between them. “That’s another point on the you suck table.” For some reason that you didn’t understand, that snarky comment made them all laugh, an inside joke you hope to understand someday. 
“I uh… should go back to my trailer.” You point to the opened door with your head, your hand now was somehow tangled with Eddie’s. 
“You can stay.” He pleas with a sweet soft voice, like honey to your ears. His eyes looking down at you, somehow becoming doe-like. 
“I would, but I need to make dinner for four.” You remind him as you wink. A lovesick smile appears on his lips once again, forgetting that he was surrounded by people that will tease him as soon as you’re gone. “I’ll leave the door unlocked, come whenever.” 
He stands there for a moment, knowing full well that their friends are talking to him, teasing him relentlessly, but he doesn’t really care, he’s too focused on seeing the way your body moves, and how even your steps reflect how happy you feel. 
-
“I thought she was coming over here.” Wayne pointed out, standing against the bathroom door, looking over Eddie's shoulder, as he brushed out Lua’s recently clean hair. 
“She was, but she wanted to host, said she’d feel more comfortable.” Eddie explained, not really focusing on what he was saying, more centered in the job he was doing. He had an experience with curly hair, and knew just how much care it needed, and how much he hated detangling it when he himself was a kid. “I’ll be done in a second, bug.” He tried to reassure her, her hands pushing him away. 
“Right.” Eddie wasn’t expecting much words out of his uncle, but he was still a bit anxious, and he wasn’t really sure he knew why. “You should shower, I’ll change Lua.” He told him, as he grabbed Lua in a soft embrace. 
That’s when Eddie realised he had been anxiously brushing his daughter’s hair for the last fifteen minutes. 
And that he probably just needed a second, a moment or a minute just for himself. 
 Turns out, silence can also be an overwhelming sound. 
For Eddie, silence was the time his thoughts gained free raign on his brain.
Even if he tried to quiet them down, hot water hitting the back of his head as he takes his time washing his hair, he wasn’t sure he could do it. 
He was used to judgment. First it was him being a nerd, which evolved into freak, which ended with reckless. First he had been an outcast, then he had been the dangerous teen, now he was the young dad who barely finished high school. 
His problem -he realised as the water pressure hitted the knot that he had on his left shoulder- was that that had all happened before you met him. 
And he hadn’t told you a lot about that. Or about Hellfire and just how important and life saving it had been for him, despite it’s nerdy side, which was what you had only seen. 
He had a river of what if’s as he brushed his damp hair, putting leave in conditioner and drying it. 
He kept thinking. 
What if you seeing him with (ironically) even more kids had somehow pushed you away.
What if you knowing that he had been on the verge of expulsion made you reject him. 
What if you getting to actually know him made you wish you never had in the first place. 
Wayne knew what was going on, but he had realised through experience that the best he could do is just give him space, facilitate the tasks he had to do. So he left him his comfort black button up shirt he always wore when he wanted to feel better, his usual blue jeans under it. 
He had dressed Lua, with the hand-me-down clothes Jameson from three trailers up had given them a few months ago, a pastel baby blue dress she had a fuss about, until she realised it was actually comfortable. Wayne smiled to himself, remembering how Eddie used to do the same. 
Across the street, you were setting up the table. 
The meat cannelloni your grandma used to make for you -or your best attempt at them- where being covered in bechamel that you had just finished, the bottom of the pot that you had used was barely brown for once, a good sign, you thought. Maybe a bit too nutmeg, maybe not enough salt, but it drowns the cannelloni in a warm blanket, before you put some shredded cheese on top. 
Once they were in the oven, the whole trailer smelt like warmth. 
And you started fidgeting with the hem of your long sleeve. 
You checked again that the white wine was chilled, and that you had plenty of water and orange juice for Lua. 
You repainted your lips red, and checked that you didn’t have any mascara stains in your eyelids for the third time. 
You decided to set the table, soft music playing in the background. A tape you had had for a while, with Bowie, the Smiths and some songs you just knew the name of. As you placed the last fork, the familiar soft knock came from the door. A smile appearing in your lips as a response. 
Eddie’s breathing slowed down as soon as he locked eyes with you. His shoulders dropped a bit, his eyes softened, just by seeing you, the river of thoughts stopped. 
Wayne’s eyebrows raised -as soon as he saw the effect you had on his anxious nephew- but neither of you noticed. 
“You look nice.” You let out, your voice softer, kinder. 
“So do you.” He said back, his voice no longer shaking. Lua in his arms, reaching for you. 
“Hi dude!” Your pitch became higher, as you grabbed her for a quick hug, letting her on the floor so she could investigate as she loved to do. 
Eddie stepped a bit closer to you, leaving a kiss on the spot he liked so much, right where your right temple met your hairline, before introducing you to Wayne. 
“It’s a pleasure.” You tell him, a firm shake of hands proceeds your words, a kind smile in his lips as his eyes are framed by smile lines. 
“I’m sure it’s all mine.” He replays, you like how he drags every word, his accent being so different form the one Eddie has. “It smells heavenly.” 
“Grandma’s recipe.” You tell him, as you move to the table. 
Eddie sees that you had fixed a chair with a couple of your hard pillows, so Lua could actually be seated on her own chair, with you. For some stupid reason, it warmed his heart. He hadn’t asked you to, assuming that she’d just be in his lap once again, but seeing that you had taken the effort, made him see -even if he thought it before- just how much you do care. 
Wayne caught it, the way Eddie’s smirk appeared as he looked at the chair, the small plastic plate and utensils you had set up for her. Water and orange juice. Wayne was starting to like you already, and he had barely talked to you. 
Everyone seemed to like the food, a soft wow escaped Wayne’s lips when non one was looking, as his eyebrows raised in amusement. Lua had wanted to try them as soon as they were set up on the table, Eddie telling her as he cut them up in a soft voice that they were too hot, she didn’t care. She grabbed the end of the fork Eddie had, trying to take a bite. 
“Do you really wanna burn your mouth?” He asked, even if he was a bit overwhelmed, his tone stayed sweet, calm. She nodded, only looking at the food. He let her take a small bite, which she did eat, chewing with her mouth opened. “I told you.” Eddie gave her a look that you found endearing. His head tilted ever so slightly to the right, his eyes opened a bit too much nodding as he did so, a soft giggle escaped your lips. He couldn’t help his from curling as soon as he heard you. 
“Yummy” Is all she said, and it made your eyes squint a bit, your smile growing bigger. Eddie’s voice stopped for a second as he saw you, and how proud you looked. 
“You like it?” Eddie could swear your eyes shined when you asked, even a bit brighter when you saw Lua nodding. 
Wayne realised something in that moment, the small bubble that you seemed to be in. 
From where he was, it already looked like you belonged. Like you always had. You seemed to understand Eddie just as good as he was, maybe even better. 
Wayne did try to get to know you, asking you things every time he felt like he had an opportunity. He was always kind, and gave you a smile when you answered. 
The thing that you found out that Wayne and Eddie shared was how much they listened, and remembered. 
“How come you ended up in Hawkins?” 
“They lied to her.” Eddie replayed before you could, food still in your mouth. 
“Whaddumean?” Wayne responded in shock, his eyes staring at you, wanting you to answer. 
“I uh… I got a call about a teaching spot that was supposedly open, in the High School, but uh… they forgot to add that it wouldn’t actually be available for another six months so… I’m in the cafe, saving up… you know” You felt like you were overexplaining yourself, or that you were coming across as pitiful, but as soon as you felt Eddie's hand on your thigh, a small squeeze on it, you knew you were going to be okay. That you were doing okay. 
Wayne looked over at Eddie, a smirk appearing on his lips, that Eddie knew the meaning of, and for once he was welcome you didn’t. It said, you also want to get out of here. Eddie couldn’t unpack that, not now. 
“Well, I’ve heard you’ve already met some of your future students.” He said instead, taking a sip of the white wine you had poured for him. 
“Have I?” 
“Didn’t your little fan club come?” Wayne was now looking at Eddie, who had gone quieter. Not only was he not talking, but he had that shyness that he had grown to hide coming out, right there in the open. 
“Fan club?” You asked back, giving him a little look. He seemed lost, present, but still not entirely there. 
“Hellfire, we uh… play a game together.” 
“I didn’t know you had more kids beside Lua.” Even if you were smiling sincerely, even if he knew you were teasing him, he still gave you an apologetic smile, not really looking at you but at Wayne, begging him to stop. 
Wayne understands, so he waits a few seconds for the music that had been softly playing to stop, he wipes his mouth with the napkin as he nods at his nephew. 
“I should get Lua to bed.” He excuses himself, as he walks over to her. Lua looked up at him with a puzzled look in her eyes, her head swinging between his dad and his uncle. “Let’s go to bed, Lu.” It’s the first time that you hear him being sweet, almost like honey. 
Lua stands up on her own, her arms up in the air, waiting to be lift up by him. He waves you goodbye in sync with Wayne as he walks out the door. 
You stand up. 
You don’t really know what you have done to make Eddie quiet, but you give him space, as you clear the table, and you catch him playing with his index finger, a repetitive movement that lets you know he’s got something bugging him in his mind. 
You let him stay in the chair while water runs down your hands. Calming yourself whilst you come out with the right words. 
“Are you okay?” You end up asking the most basic question, but the only one you can actually think of. He finally looks up at you, and in doing so he realises due to the iron taste in his mouth that he had been biting his lower lip a bit too hard. 
“Yeah, just… Sorry.” He tried to brush it off, finally standing up, walking to the kitchen. His hands hidden deep in the back pockets of his jeans.
“Do you want to talk about it?” He knows that took courage out of you to ask, you start cleaning the plates, the sponge bubbling up as you squeezed it. 
“Do you want me to dry?” He asks back, stepping closer to you, nodding to your previous question, looking for a way to be close to you. 
“Sure.” You step to the left, letting him a bit of space for him to fit, his waits hitting his, a comforting touch that makes his brain slow down once more. “Did I do something? While we were eating?” You try to ask, not sure why he went quiet all of a sudden. Not sure why Wayne had vanished and let you two alone, or why he nodded at Eddie before doing so. 
“No, you were amazing. I can tell Wayne already likes you.” He admits, drying the first plate, his voice was shaking a bit in anticipation about the conversation he knew you were about to have. “It’s just… I haven’t been embarrassed about Hellfire in like, ever. And suddenly the fear that you might I dunno, think it’s dumb, or that you wouldn’t like me being like, this huge nerd, that hangs out with Highschoolers while you are supposed to be a teacher and I…” He was talking faster and faster, his words were starting to fuse together, catching up to the speed in which his brain was thinking about it all. 
You turn the faucet off, paying him full attention. He catches that in the midst of his rumbling. His eyes lock with yours, as nervous tears make his eyes crystallize. 
“Shit I barely graduated. I hated school, I was a freak who liked to play or still likes rather, who tried to defend anyone even if I got beat up or called shitty things and then I got a kid and shit… You have been nothing but nice and you literally are like a I dunno, a princess. Kind and all that shit I don’t… I don’t really deserve it.” 
You shake your head as he talks, wanting to interrupt but not really being able to. You just take his hand, a soft touch that lets him know he’s being heard. 
“Moon.” He can’t help but look at the way your lips move when you call him by the sweetest nickname he had ever been called, only made better by your voice. Your thumb tracing drabbles on the back of his hand. “I like that you’re a nerd.” He can feel the sincerity of your voice, only made more evident by the smile that painted your lips. “I like it because I like you.” You tell him, your eyes looking at the way his lips part, his head shaking in embarrassment. “I don’t care if you play whatever game, or hang out with whoever, because that makes you who you are. And that’s who I like.” 
“Idiot.” It’s the only thing he can manage to say back, with the stupidest widest smile you had seen from him. 
“Hopefully yours.” You tease back, turning back to keep cleaning more dishes. 
He just stands there, mesmerized by you, and the way that you treat him, how you make him feel. He just gives in the urge, his arms wrapping to your waist, his chest hitting your back. You gave in a bit, pushing into him, melting in his arms. 
He took the opportunity to kiss your neck, right where it made your skin tingle, goosebumps being sent through your body. He kisses the same spot again after he hears a giggle turning into a soft moan. 
You turn to him, finally giving him a decent kiss. 
His lips intertwined with yours, the softness contradicted with the underlining neediness of his touch, both of you smiling through the kiss, his hands in the small of your waist, pulling you in closer, your hands lost in his hair, tugging it in a way he thought was heavenly. 
“Yeah, hopefully mine.” He finally responded, once he broke off the kiss, his forehead still touching yours, his hands tracing circles on your skin, under your shirt. You couldn’t stop playing with the ends of his hair. 
You stayed a bit longer like that, soft caress left on your body, as you just held each other, whispering sweet nothings to one another. 
-
He had come over, right when you were ending your shift, panic in his eyes. He was stressed, you could tell that much, switching his order from regular to decaf. He told you, that he had just been called to cover a late shift, and that he didn’t know if he could take Lua with him, because it would be too late, that Wayne had the night shift and wouldn’t be home until 6 in the morning, how much he just needed some reassurance, maybe a little kiss -he couldn’t stop teasing, not even if he tried, not even when he was panicking- but he wasn’t expecting your response to all of this. 
“I could go over and watch her.” 
You saw how his thoughts stopped for a moment, and how the warmth he felt in his heart after he heard your words spread through his cheeks. He asked if you were sure, if you actually didn’t mind. He reminded you that you didn’t have to do it, that it wasn’t your responsibility nor did he want to impose you with something you weren’t ready for. 
“I’d love to spend some time with her. Maybe she’ll even like me more than you in the end.”
He chuckled, added a no way and thanked you a bit too much, finalizing it all with a quick kiss before he headed out, already late for his shift. 
A to go cup in his hand.
Wayne had also thanked you profusely, even if he was a man of no words, he gave you a smile and a comforting squeeze on your shoulder. Lua was sitting down on the couch, mumbling along to the words to her favourite princess movie, while she swanged her hand around, holding on tightly to her chocolate chip cookie. 
You sat down next to her, she squeezed in closer to you. 
“You really like Aurora, don’t you?” Your voice was always higher in pitch when you talked to her, slower, softer. You thought that maybe you did that, in a way, because if someone had been kinder to you when you were little, maybe things would have been easier. 
“She’s the best.” She answered, as if it was painfully obvious. “She lives in the woods, like me!” She pointed out, as soon as the little cottage came on the screen. 
“She does.” 
“And Dada says I’m special like her.” You noticed how her eyes shined when she talked about Eddie, the care and love he had for her reciprocating in the way she talked. 
“You are.” You reassured her, brushing her hair with your fingers, she cuddled with you, a smile on her face. 
-
Three fast knocks on the door made you startled. Lua had just gone to bed, and you were a bit busy cleaning the mess you ended up doing. Thankfully, you were used to cleaning after yourself, white papers filled with doodles, and teddies laid on the floor next to the couch. You looked at the clock, and you saw that Eddie still had a while to come home, and he wouldn’t knock, he would just barge in. So with an unsure pace, you made your way to the trailer door, opening it as the little boy was screaming Eddie’s name. 
“Oh, hi.” He mumbled, as soon as he saw you. 
“Hi. You’re… Dustin?” He took a quick look at you, scanning the scene before he dared to say anything else, not really understanding why you opened the door and not his friend who actually lived there. 
“Uh, yeah. We met.” He was measuring his words, still a bit unsure as to what he was supposed to do now. “Where’s Eddie?”
“D’you wanna come in?” You both had asked the questions at the same time, so when he nodded, you just stepped to the side so he could come in. You noticed the backpack he had glued to his back, his straps tighter so the weight wouldn’t bother him. “What do you got there?” You pointed at the heavy back with your finger, a curious tone in your voice that made him grab it, before putting it on the table. 
“Oh, I was supposed to meet Eddie.” He said, before seeing you nod, wanting to know more, as you sat down. He followed your movements, as he opened the bag. “He left me some of his D&D stuff, and he was supposed to help me with some things I wanted to add to my first campaign.” He started yapping, you saw that just as Eddie, he talked faster when he was excited about a topic. 
“That’s the game you were playing the other day?” You ask sincerely, he nods, as he starts to fill the table with books, little figurines, papers that had scribbling with two different handwriting, sketches… You got lost into all of it for a second, Dustin watching at the way you seemed to analyze it all. “Could you… like, teach me stuff about it?” 
“Why?” Dustin scrunched his nose, not really following you, his eyebrows almost meeting on the bridge of his nose. 
“Eddie really likes this game, and he talks about it, and I don’t always follow, but I don’t wanna bother him with too many questions so…” 
Dustin's wide smile was all the confirmation you needed. 
You were starting to get it, you had races, and classes and the little numbers on the paper sheets where abilities, that you decided rolling weird sided dice. 
You were in to deep, trying to understand and following him closely, as he flipped through the pages of the big dense book he had between the both of you. 
Maybe that’s why neither of you heard him when he walked in. 
He was about to talk, his mouth remained open, but as soon as he saw you both, he stayed there. His body against the door frame, his arms crossed above his chest as he just looked, with the fondest stupidest smile on his lips as he saw just how much interest you had in whatever Dustin was talking to you about. 
“So you can mix and match any classes and races?” You ask, Eddie's heart stops for a moment, he hadn’t realised you were talking about his game. 
“Yeah, I mean if you were to play a bard which was…?” Dustin was questioning you, seeing if you remembered what he had just spent some time trying to explain to you. 
“An unhinged rockstar that likes to tell stories.” 
“So basically Eddie.” Dustin made the same joke again, making you giggle, whilst Eddie tried to hide his chuckle, wanting to know what you’d say without you knowing he was there. 
“That’s my man.” You teased back, in a singing tone that made Dustin laugh as he looked back down at the book. 
“Yeah, so, if you made your Bard a Half-Elf, it would automatically get a +2 to charisma, which is extremely useful to them.” He cheered, you nodded. You knew that Dustin was feeling a bit proud, as he was explaining these things to you. 
“And they also get a +1 stat boost to other abilities.” Eddie finally chirped in, making his presence known. 
He smiled widely, as he walked over to you. His arms falling to his side, his heart beating faster as if it were eager to finally be near yours. 
“Hi.” You said, voice barely above a whisper as he got closer.
“Hi.” He answered, closing the distance between your lips with a quick peck. 
Dustin was happy, seeing the way Eddie melted when you were close, he liked seeing his friend act like that. All soft, as opposed to the thought persona he had to give out when he was still in school, back when they met each other. 
“Dustin was helping me understand your game.” You told him, eyes shining up at him. “But you’re the one he wants to ask stuff to, so… I’ll head home. See you soon Henderson.” You told the cap wearing boy, with a soft squeeze to his shoulder, he waved bye to you, looking as Eddie walked you to the door. “Lua’s been asleep for a while, so don’t worry about that.” You told him, getting a bit lost into him, which you were starting to realise you had no control over, when his eyes looked like chocolate pools under the moonlight. 
“Have I told you how amazing you are?” He told you, pushing a small flock of hair behind your ear, caressing your cheek with his thumb a bit longer than he really needed to. 
You shook your head in disbelief, your eyes not letting go from his stare. You bite your lower lip, a bit from shame, a bit from childish excitement over kind words. He lowered his thumb, pulling your lip down so you wouldn’t bite it. 
The delicate move, the roughness of his callused finger contradicting with the softness of it all, sends your body into overdrive. 
Goosebumps not only filled your body, but his too. He felt it just as much as you need, the spark, the electricity, the fire. It screamed i need you, though sometimes, it seemed like it was screaming i love you, or rather i could love you if you let me. 
“Why?” Is the only thing you could gather to ask, your voice shaking a bit from want, or need. Eddie felt like your voice was a velvety hug on his skin. 
“Just, you really are.” 
He kissed you. His thumb tilted your jaw upwards so he could reach your lips, even if it was a simple movement, it still made your head a bit dizzy. You took a step closer to him, amidst the kiss, so your waist would touch his, so you could get your hands on the back of his neck, burying them in his hair. Your tongues touch, and you feel out of breath. Eddie couldn’t stop himself from smiling, he was too happy, and it was all thanks to you. 
“Goodnight Moon.” You whispered into his ear, finally pulling away. 
“Goodnight Princess.” 
He could have stayed there, watching you leave forever, if it weren’t for Dustin’s soft teasing. A stream of oh lover boy! that came from inside the trailer, it couldn’t even bother him, not even a little bit. 
Because deep down he knew, he was falling deep in love with you. 
-
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-
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part 4 is up, thank for the support dudes <3
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nebulaafterdark · 2 months
Text
The Succession (Part 3)
Summary: After the battle of Rook’s Rest, Queen Y/N is forced to rule alongside Prince Regent Aemond, in an attempt to keep her children safe and eventually seat her mother, Rhaenyra, on the throne. While attending her husband, on what appears to be his deathbed, she begins to unravel the dark truth of his near passing.
Aegon Targaryen x Velaryon(Strong)!Reader
Part 1 | Part 2
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Alicent’s idea of a procession to gain support for their wounded King, has quite the opposite effect. The smallfolk swam them, knocking the attending members of the royal family from their carriage and down onto the streets with them.
The Dowager Queen clings to Helaena and her daughter by law. With gold cloaks of the city watch forcing the crowd away from them. Making a path back toward the Keep.
Chérie watches in horror as it unfolds, amongst the sea of people, she spots a familiar face. One of Rhaenyra’s ladies-in-waiting. “Elinda?”
“Chérie?”
“What are you doing here?”
“I’ve come to deliver a message to Princess Y/N, from Queen Rhaenyra.”
“May the gods be with you,” Chérie remarks.
“Where is she?” Elinda asks.
Chérie points toward the center of the mob. Alicent, Helaena and Y/N covered by guards attempting to protect them. “There.”
“Give us the Queen!”
“We want the Queen.”
“Back, all of you!” The guards demand, preparing to draw their swords.
Y/N tries to step forward, give the people what they want.
“Y/N,” Alicent keeps a firm hold on her, shaking her head. “It is not worth the risk.”
“You drug me away from my husband’s sick bed for our people to see me.” Y/N reminds her. “Let them see me.”
Alicent releases her, against her better judgment.
The mass of commoners threaten to engulf the Queen, with the banner of house Targaryen held proudly in their midst. “We want meat.”
“The King makes false promises!”
“You feast in your castle as we starve!”
The shouting builds to a crescendo.
“Do you want my help, or simply to hurl insults at the crown?” Y/N waits until they fall silent before she continues. “Before the King’s coronation, I was told the realm would never accept a ruling Queen. I heard this same sentiment recently, as my lord husband returned from battle, grievously injured. Yet you raise my mother’s banner in my husband’s streets.” Y/N says, loud enough for all to hear. “War is a terrible thing, that costs us all that which we love. It drives a wedge between our houses, makes fools of us all.”
“Stop the war!”
“End the blockade!”
Y/N hesitates, “I have no more agency over that than any of you, I fear. But I believe, as I know my husband does, that our victory relies on the smallfolk. We take to the woods, this day. We will hunt for our meat and we shall feast upon it together.”
The smallfolk murmur to each other.
“Most of you are not trained for the hunt, to which I say, neither am I. But we must stand together, not tear ourselves apart. We are one people, we are one heart.”
Slowly, the townsfolk begin voicing their approval.
“Take to your houses,” Y/N instructs, “gather your weapons and join me at the gates. They will open for us or we will break them down!”
“If you want a word with the Queen, now is your chance.” Chérie whispers.
“And you?”
“I must stand watch over his grace, until her return. After what I have learned this day…he mustn’t be alone.”
The mob cheers as they disband, knocking Chérie and Elinda apart.
Alicent rushes Helaena inside as Y/N heads for the gates.
“She should not be alone.” Helaena says.
“No, she shouldn’t.” Alicent presses cups her daughter’s face in her hands. “Ser Criston.” She calls.
“Your grace,” he stands at the ready.
“You are to accompany the Queen on this venture.” She tells him. “Y/N is not to be out of your sight, no harm must come to her.”
“Of course, your grace.” Cole nods, excusing himself to meet the Queen at the gates. They remain closed as commoners fall in line behind her, pushing at one another as she fights her way to the forefront.
“Where is it you think you’re going?” Aemond asks his niece.
“To give our people meat.” Y/N sneers, spotting her husband’s dagger on his hip. Without hesitation she reaches across, staring him dead in the eye as she yanks the blade free of its sheath. “You are welcome to join us.”
Aemond cocks his head to the side, knowing he has the final say in directing the King’s guard, “open the gates.”
————————————————————————
When Daemon receives Rhaenyra’s letter, detailing her plan to secure Y/N’s safe passage from King’s Landing to Dragonstone, he believes it is a terrible idea.
What they need is for her to hold the throne, the moment she abandons it, any claim Rhaenyra or Aegon holds over it will be lost to the Prince Regent. He knows better than anyone that the realm will suffer if Aemond, one eye, rules.
Instead he plans to enlist help of his own to secure his grandchildren’s safety. With Y/N and Aemond out roaming the woods, taking over half the King’s guard with them, he finds his opportunity.
Whistling through the gates to one of the white cloaks, who harbors a strong dislike of the Hightowers. The man abandons his post, meeting Daemon at the bars.
“How would you like to make a year’s worth of gold in an hour?”
Blood swallows harshly, “what would you have me do?”
“You can start by opening the fucking gate.”
The man does as he’s told.
“Follow me.” Daemon leads him down the alleyway to another man, whom he calls Cheese. “This is an old friend of mine, tonight he’s going to be your friend.” Daemon tosses them each a sack of gold.
“You said a year’s worth.”
“Half now, half when the job is done.”
Blood and Cheese count their bags of coin before nodding their agreement.
“What I need of you is simple. Enter the castle, find my grandson, Aegon.”
“The King?”
“Prince Aegon. He is a babe with dark hair.” With his father incapacitated, they have a good shot at it. “If you cannot retrieve him safely, leave.”
“Is that all?”
“Be sure to scare the seven hells out of the maids while you’re at it. But you are not to cause harm. This is a ploy to increase protection of the Queen’s heirs. Nothing more.”
“What is it they need protecting from?” Cheese wonders.
“Do you want the job or not?” Daemon snaps.
“Y-yes.”
“I will be waiting to collect him at the north gate.” The prince informs them. “You have one hour.”
————————————————————————-
“Disperse and take your share, all of you.” Aemond gives the smallfolk his blessing. They scatter in all directions, desperate and searching.
Y/N sets off with a pack of them into the east woods. Cole follows.
Aemond stays with the masses, showing his good faith. Hoping to win back their support of his claim.
Y/N is the first to spot a deer, running from them, “just there.” She sets off toward is. “Who wants it?”
“I, your grace.” A man with silver, gray hair marches toward it.
“Very well!” Y/N praises, “everyone come round, be sure it does not escape.”
“Together, now.”
They take the first, with some difficulty. Each to follow becomes easier.
Aemond makes his kills alone, happening upon the group eventually. Just in time to see the gleam of the White Hart, watching on from a safe distance. Willing him to slain it, prove himself once and for all, as Y/N toils in servitude of the smallfolk.
“Your grace!” One of the men yell, pointing to the stag. “For you.”
“For us,” Y/N pats his shoulder before hiking up her ruined skirts, “for us.”
“For us!”
Aemond draws his sword, spooking the animal into hiding.
The Queen’s eyes widen.
“May the beast be slain by the true heir, as a sign of good faith.” He says, taking off in search of it.
Y/N runs after him.
“My Queen!”
“Stay with the Queen!”
She chases Aemond deeper into the woods, but the stag cannot be found.
In an instant, Aemond turns on his heels. Leaving the end of his blade pointed at Y/N’s belly.
She flinches as his sword grazes her cheek on it’s upward swing.
Aemond smirks, watching the blood bead on her skin as her eyes well with tears. “Behind you.”
The stag bolts away.
“Aemond!” Ser Criston calls.
The Prince Regent sheathes his sword. “It got away.”
Y/N’s knees buckle, she does not fight as she falls to the ground. It was him. He who would sooner shroud his brother in dragon fire than fight at his side. He who jumped the line of succession to turn the war in his favor.
“Your grace,” Cole moves to her as Aemond retreats. “You’re injured.”
Y/N holds a hand up between them.
“Let me help you stand.”
“Why?” Y/N asks, “each time I stand I am struck down.”
“Because you keep rising.” Cole tells her. “You know, I may not have fathered them, but I raised both Aegon and Aemond as my own. He would not want to see you this way.”
“He may never see me again.”
“I do not believe that is true.” Ser Criston sighs, “so long as you live, he will find a way. My responsibility to Aegon now lies in ensuring he has something to wake up to.” He says, pointedly. “You have not made it an easy task.”
“I overheard you call my mother a spoiled cunt once.” Y/N scrubs a hand over her face, “be forewarned, I am worse.”
Despite himself, Cole smiles. Something just beyond her catching his eye. “My Queen.”
She follows the direction of his finger.
“This will be the sign we all desperately need, they would fall in line behind you. There will be no further question.”
The White Hart stares back at her, unblinking. “Have you come to die for me too?” She pushes up to her feet, flashing the blade before the animal’s eyes in warning. But the stag comes closer, she strokes its bowed head, plunging the dagger clean into its heart, allowing the stag to collapse onto her. Rocking the creature as best she can. “Thank you for all you have done for me. Your sacrifice is not in vain.”
Cole carries the slain stag behind Y/N, trudging through the forest, covered in its blood. The smallfolk know what this means. There is no need for a Prince Regent, they have a Queen.
Aemond nods. She’s won the battle, but he’ll win the war.
————————————————————————-
With the smallfolk contented, Y/N retires to her rooms, allowing the bath water to soothe her muscles and her mind. Chérie is still about, therefore the Queen allows another of her ladies to scrub the dirt and blood from her skin.
“It is done, my Queen.” Livia nods, “should you like a towel, or to soak a while longer?”
“The water is filthy,” Y/N murmurs.
“We might draw you a new bath, your grace.”
“No,” Y/N shakes her head. “Just the towel please.”
“At once, your grace.” She reaches for the plush cream fabric, holding it open for her majesty.
Y/N wraps herself in it, as her hair is rung out over the tub.
“Are you thinking of braids, your grace?”
No. Not in the least. “You may leave it hang.”
“Are you certain?” Livia blinks at her.
“Yes, help me dress in my nightgown, please. I am quite exhausted.”
Livia nods, scurrying to the dressing area and returning with a pale purple gown. “Is this to your liking, my Queen?”
Y/N smiles, “it is lovely. Thank you.”
The woman returns the gesture.
“You needn’t always address me so formally when we are alone. I wish for us to be friends.”
“A Queen is not expected to be friends with her servants.” Livia says, “my mother has served the dowager Queen Alicent for many years.”
“My mother was always kind to her ladies.” Y/N tells her. “That is the Queen I hope to be.”
Livia nods, easing the material over the Queen’s head, followed quickly by her robe. “I should like that very much.”
“I understand how difficult it can be, taking on a new role without knowing what’s expected of you. If you’ve questions, please voice them to me, I am more than happy to answer.”
“I have heard whispers from other ladies…that Chérie joins you and the King in your bed.” Livia stammers, “you are both very lovely, your grace, but I would not know how-”
“Oh no,” Y/N huffs a laugh. “Livia, that will never be asked of you. Chérie is very dear to the King and I, but that is not a task expected of my ladies.”
“Forgive me for assuming.”
“It’s quite alright, I am glad to clear the air between us. I would hate for you to be nervous in my presence over a misunderstanding.”
Livia exhales, “thank you for being so kind.”
Y/N takes her hand, “of course.”
“Y/N,” Chérie pants, having rushed past the guards. “It’s Aegon.”
Y/N moves, as if in slow motion, taking the bloodied dagger from the floor. Down the hall, to her husband’s rooms, shoving open the door.
“You’re hurt.” He says, taking in the sight of her, freshly dressed, hair still dripping from the bath.
She gawks at him. Willing her legs to move and dropping to her knees at the side of his bed, casting the weapon aside. Y/N rests her cheek against the coverlet, not daring to touch him.
Carefully he reaches for her, feeling the charred skin of his chest pull as his hand passes over her hair.
“I thought you were dead,” Y/N whispers. “Chérie rushed me out of my rooms to you. I thought you were dead.” She sobs, violently enough that any shred of anger Aegon harbors for the disregard of her own safety is forgotten.
“I’m going to look in on the children.” Chérie excuses herself.
Aegon whispers, as the doors close, “come round this side.”
“I can’t.” Y/N struggles to draw breath, shuttering as she does.
“I wish to hold you.”
“I will hurt you.”
“Hearing you sob on the floor, while I am no more than a foot away, is worse than any pain I am in. Let me comfort you.” Aegon insists, “please.”
Y/N stands, climbing carefully onto the bed, lying her head on the pillow beside his.
Aegon’s neck aches as he turns his head to face her, left eye swollen shut.
“I do not see where it is safe to touch you,” Y/N admits. The unmarred half of his face now rests against the pillow.
“Rest your head upon my shoulder.” Aegon sighs, “but let me look at you first.” He’s just taken milk of the poppy, enough to dull the sharp edge of pain.
“I am a mess.” Y/N lets out a watery laugh, dragging the back of her hand over her face, mindful of her graze.
“You are beautiful,” Aegon half smiles. “Tell me what’s happened.”
Y/N sucks in a breath, “the small council appointed Aemond as Prince Regent. The smallfolk were discontented in their hunger, I took them to hunt. I happened across a white stag and followed it into the woods. Aemond as well. He drew his sword once we were far enough out though Cole found us before anything happened. I think he meant to kill me.”
Aegon swallows, “you must stay away from Aemond, do you understand?”
Y/N nods.
“When I am well enough-”
“Has he done this to you?” Y/N needs to hear it plainly.
“Sunfyre and Meyles were locked together. There is no way of knowing what his intentions were, but it was Aemond who gave the command.” Dracarys.
“I’ll kill him.”
“You cannot.”
Y/N begins to protest.
“Listen to me now.” Aegon presses on, “I want you out of King’s Landing. I want our children out.”
“No, I will not leave you.”
“Go to your mother on Dragonstone.”
“No.”
“Shh,” Aegon gentles her. “I need you to hear what I am saying to you. This is the only way she can take back the throne. She wants Aemond’s head more than any. It will ensure your safety and the kill. I hate being parted as much as you do, but I cannot protect you here.”
“Who will protect you if I go?”
“My mother.”
“She would stand against Aemond, if it comes to it?” Y/N challenges.
“I do not want you here if it comes to that.”
“Why?”
“I will not have you stand between me and a blade. I will not allow you to be harmed or mistreated. I will protect you and our children at any cost.” Aegon says.
“The White Hart appeared for me,” Y/N is sure of it. “It fled from Aemond, returned for me and I killed it. For you, for our house and our people. I am not weak.”
“My concern is not because you are weak.” Aegon tells her, “at present, you are the largest threat to Aemond. He could end me now with a pillow held over my face.”
Y/N’s eyes widen.
“I jest, I jest.”
“I will do it myself if you dare say that again.”
He chuckles, “ah!” The movement is horribly painful. “Don’t make me laugh.”
“I promised the girls they could come visit you.” Y/N tells him, lowering her head to his shoulder.
“Are you certain that’s a good idea?” Aegon nuzzles against the top of her head. “They should not have to see me this way.”
Y/N sighs, “you are their father. They love you no matter what.”
“And you?” Aegon whispers, “you would have me still? They say I may never walk again.”
Y/N pulls away to stare at him with furrowed brows. “Aegon, of course I will have you. I love you.”
“I know that you love me.” Same as he would love her with roles reversed, “but will you…desire me? As your husband?”
Y/N presses her lips to his, oh so gently. “Of course. When you have recovered, we shall make up for lost time.”
Again he nods, not entirely convinced. “I should like that very much.”
“I speak true, husband.” Y/N insists. “Surely my body is different now than it was before our babes and you desire me still, do you not?”
“I desire you more.”
“We’re going to grow old together, you and I. In which time we will both surely change, that is the way of things.”
“Your grace!” Chérie calls, rapping her fist against the door.
“Come,” Y/N wills her.
The woman charges in, clearly distraught. “My Queen,” she says, without realizing Aegon is still lucid. The maesters warned his moments of waking will be few and far between. “Something awful has happened.”
“What is it?” Y/N springs from the bed.
“Prince Aegon…he’s been taken.”
“Taken where?” Y/N demands.
“I cannot say, the maids reported two men in hoods. They came with knives, threatened them and took the babe.”
“Bring us Dahlia, Visera and Laenor.” Aegon insists. “Send in the guards, they are to tear apart the Red Keep until my son is found.”
“Of course, my King.” Chérie bows.
Y/N steals the abandoned dagger, making for the door.
“Where are you going?” Aegon calls after her.
“To kill your brother.”
Part 4
Series Taglist: @oh-you-mean-me @barnes70stark @lovelyteenagebeard @niyahnotnia @narwhal-swimmingintheocean @callsignwidow @hyde-jpg @novelswithariana @klutzylaena @ynbutbetter @ravenqueen27 @danart501
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first-edition · 7 months
Text
Bent Over
Summary- You may be Bucky’s assistant but your still is pretty wife. When the other board members take a liking to you bucky puts them in their place by showing them exactly who you belong two.
Cw- literally just smut basically, P-in-V, Unprotected, doggystyle, hair pulling, choking kink, Sargent! Authority kink, reader has long hair and wears heels, Afab reader, brief mention of drool, dirt talk, public sex, exhibitionistm kink, dom/sub, Dom!bucky, CEO!bucky, assistant reader, spanking, pet names, brief clit play, bucky fucking you raw over the meeting table with others watch. SLIGHTLY PROOF READ.
A/N this is by far the most….UNHOLY thing I’ve ever written in my 11 years of writing fanfiction and smut so i encourage you to read the content warning above and MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.
ENJOY
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You've worked for Bucky for hydra company since you were born. You previously worked for your father Alexander Pierce when you turned 14. But when his assistant double crossed him and killed him, that same assistant, James Buchanan Barnes took over the company at 18. At first you hated him having nothing left, not like your father was good. Of course the company should've gone to you..and well it did but at 14 years old it wasn't yours to run. 
You two would bicker and often hand in hand fight regardless of being his assistant. Many year later and many fail assanation attempts on him you married him. You've been James's assistant for 11 years, and you've been married to him for 3. Your bickering had ended in a lust induced fight that led to feeling being expressed at gunpoint then a rough night that left you partially, and deliciously crippled the next morning, which prompted Bucky to make you breakfast in bed and draw you a bath. 
Your work relationship is far different from home. At home he never lets you only want you whether that's wrapping his arms around you for a cuddle or being balls deep in your cunt. 
At work however he's the right amount of distance and so are you. It's become a mutual thing to not let anyone know in the tower that you and the big boss are married. 
You walk into the building holding a tray of coffees and an arm full of files. Your hair up in a ponytail, you wear a black knee high pencil skirt with a fairly loose but classy dark blue blouse, your black stockings paired with the jet black louis vuittons red bottoms bucky bought you last week. 
“I made the coffee run.” you say setting the tray down in the office room. 
Everyone who orders comes scrambling to their order without a thank you as usual. 
“You do a lot around her, don't you miss pierce.” you hear an older man's voice speak and you turn to see one of the board members and the other men on his team behind him. 
“Welcome Mr Cain you are early..i'll have to let mr barnes know.” you say pursing your lips in slight annoyance. 
“Yes well i'm not going to miss a chance at this pretty face now am I?” he says lifting your chin you pull away from him. 
“Excuse Me.” you say before turning back and walking down the hall area. They of course unauthorizedly follow close behind you. You stop at bucky's office doors as the desk girl presses the button allowing the doors to open you step in seeing bucky standing over to the window watching the morning view of the city as he shines up his metal hand, which your father gave him after a coup was sent on him he used bucky as a human shield. 
“Mr barnes. It appears Mr Cain has arrived early.” you says 
“Love the way you say my name sweetheart.” Cain speaks slapping your ass making you jump and wanting you punch the ever living outta him. 
“Hmm.” Bucky hums as he turns to see Mr cain. 
“Are the others here?” he asks you. 
“No sir…they will be arriving at 8. Like you asked.” you say knowing bucky will be pissed off at cain with being early and treating you as such. A small smile forming on your face. 
“You're 15 minutes early Cain. Were you offered coffee or bourbon? " Bucky says. 
“No james-” Cain begins. 
“Good.” Bucky cuts him off. He looks to you and holds out his hands for the files. You walk over to him handing them to your beloved husband. He takes a moment to look through the pages.
“Early Mr Cain but lacking in so many areas, your files aren't in the stock.” he says. 
“I had it transferred digitally.” Cain speaks proudly. Bucky tilts his head to the side slightly and nods a bit before handing the files back to you. You walk to the cabinet and bend down to sort them into the right orders. You hear a crash and a grunt knowing Cain is face down on the table and Bucky is holding him there. 
“Im old school Cain i like the files printed, i also like to be on time, not early, not late…on. Fucking. Time.” bucky huffs cain struggles against the cold black marble desk. 
“Understood?” Bucky asks. 
“Y-yes..sir..” Cain gurgles out. Bucky lets him go and stands up fixing his suit. 
“Good. I'll see you in um….10 minutes. Office room 8. y/n.” bucky says looking at you as you close the files cabinet. 
“Yes sir?” you ask completely unfazed but the situation as Cain picks himself up. 
“Send the maid in to clean up the mess and get room 8 ready for the meeting… also escort Mr Cain out and show twords the room.” he says you nod your heels clicking against the tiled floor as you walk out cain following you. 
—-------
You stand on the side of the door way welcoming the men of the board into the meeting room one by one they all join in and in some way in their own eye fuck you, or get a touch of you in some way. 
They all take their seats and bucky walks in after them. You're about to close the door when he stops you. 
“I'll need you for this one doll.” He says he never calls you his personal nickname at work. 
“S-sir?” you ask 
“Come on love.” he says, taking your hand leading you into the room. He takes a seat at the head of the table as usual and you stand beside him. 
“So I realize that we are gathered here for the section rating. How our router facilities are going and what we are going to do about the one that got taken down. Simply kill the one in charge, the router taken down, and forty the rest." Bucky begins. 
“In the budget.” someone begins. Bucky holds his hand up. 
“The budget is not the problem. The problem is that we have to much money and aren't using it to put more into the structure..but that's not the problem i want to address today no…the harassment and sexualization of my wife is getting out of hand.'' Bucky speaks and stands up pushing his chair back. 
“J-james.” you speak quietly. 
“I don't know what you men think but i think that the only one here who gets to touch her is me…don't you?” bucky speaks undoing his belt, your knees feel of jello and a shiver goes up your spine. 
Bucky pulls you to him and presses his lips to yours deeply he grips a handful of your ass before pushing you back against the table, your back laying against it he pushing up your skirt and rips open the front of your shirt. 
“I think you all need a fuckign lesson about who my assistant is and your gonna sit their like good students and fucking watch.” bucky grunts out as your laced bra is exposed he grips your neck pulling you up to him and gently takes out your ponytail letting your hair fall. 
“What do you think of these dirty old men touching you honey?” he asks you. You bite your lip making a bucky smile knowing what that does to him. 
“Your hands trails down his front to his crotch feeling the bulge already full in his pants straining against the fabric. You pull down the zipper causing him to slip out, you take him in your hand giving his length a few good strokes before he pushes back against the table he moves your panties to the side briefly only to rip them off throwing them in the room. With out warning or prep he enters you roughly you mouth falls open and a moan escapes as he begins to fuck up into you. 
“n-ngh..James.” you gasp out in pleasure. 
“Come on princess, don't hide those pretty sounds from us.” he says a violent blush fills your face but the arousal going on between your legs blurs out any embarrassment. Your husband is fucking you out silly, on the table of the meeting room infront of the entire board and you are loving every second of it. 
“Come on doll you gotta l–let em know who you belong to. You the fuck put tha pretty ring on your finger?” bucky huffs. 
“Y-you did ahh. Fu-fuck.. You did.” you maon out in fragments as he pulls you bra down exposing your tits gripping one and continuing to fuck you his thumb brushing over your hardend bud and the stimulation in you cunt is enough for you cum once. 
“F-fuck james..ah” you grip his hand as your cunt squeezes around his cock. 
“Come on love you cant keep this a secrect you fucking cumming?” he asks, already knowing the answer. 
“Y-y-yes ah..m-more please.” you ask breathlessly. He pulls out of you for a quick moment before turning you on your stomach and taking you from behind. Your nails claw at the table as he pounds into you. 
“Come on honey gotta show em your gorgeous face dont yah.” he pulls you up you back against him his left hand around your neck making your eyes roll back in pleasure and happiness on the dominance he has over you. While his other hand reaches down to your clit rubbing and playing perfectly. 
“Ah! AH” you moan out a broken gasp as your knees merge in over stimulation. 
“Come on… take it like a good girl.” Bucky groans into your ear knowing that the other men can absolutely hear him. 
Your arms reach about your head holding onto bucky as best as you can, your tits bouncing freely, men both looking away and can't take their eyes off the display right in front of them. 
“Come one baby you gonna fucking cum for me again huh?” bucky grunts. 
“Y-yes ah fuck yes.. Please i- i want it so b-bad. Please im your..ah please sargent” you beg. Bucky knowing full well he has you in the palm of his hand now with how cock drunk he's easily gotten you. 
His hold around your neck loosens and he lets you back onto the table pressing his hand onto the small of your back feeling the arch making him groan. 
“Such a good fucking girl for me huh? For everyone here being so fucking obedient.” bucky barks out sending a harsh slap on your ass for you only making  you clench around his cock. Surging pleasure though him. Skin slapping against skin as he fucks you out.
“Fuck.” he huffs. He grips your hair pulling your head back, your drunken expression facing all the men drool dripping as your tongue hangs out. The pleasurable tears stinging the sides of your eyes blurring your vision. 
“I- im gonna c-cum ah- fuck.. Please please ah..” you messily beg. 
“Come on doll cum.” he demands out from you a few more thrusts later he has you cumming for the second time. His thrusts become weaker and sloppy as he curses with a rough few thrusts in you emptying his load into your pussy filling you up. He pushes his hair back as he pulls out of you. Bucky gives you a quick kiss on the cheek before lifting you up against him your fucked you dazed happy expression is glowing for the others in the room. 
“obedience..is taught gentleman respect is earned. Any of you flaccid fucking shit faces touch her again or dare to question my authority with USLESS BOARD MEETINGS… Ill send someone to each and everyone of you and put a bullet or two right between your fucking eyes. Is that Understood?” Bucky speaks. 
“Yes sir.” they all say in broken unison. 
“Get the fuck out.” Bucky says they scramble out gathering their things and falling out the door before it's just the two of you left. You giggle out a tired giggle. 
Bucky tucks himself back into his pants, setting you down gently and brings his chair over. 
“Come here doll. You alright?” he asks you nod looking at him with lust filled eyes. 
A smile fills his face as his thumb brushes against your cheek. He sits you down in his chair. 
He takes off his jacket, placing it around you. “Come on honey imma take you home i don't think you can work today or tomorrow.” he smiles before kissing your lips. 
“W-we should do this again then yeah?” you ask as he picks you up bridal style. 
“Id be happy to fuck you infront of the presedent next week.” he chuckles. Making you laugh.
—-my requests are open—-
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partycatty · 6 months
Text
johnny, kenshi, kung lao, raiden, liu kang > lollipop
thank you for 450 followers! take a chunkier post as my thank you 🫶
suckin on a lollipop n wondering how they'd react >:3
warnings: they all need to be neutered
notes: it's orange flavored btw
[ masterlist ]
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liu kang
• oh he tries, he tries so hard to not let it get to him
• but when your pretty lips part to speak and he catches a glimpse of the color staining your tongue? excuse him while he mad dashes to his quarters to smack one out silly style.
• no, not really. liu kang just avoids eye contact, tries to focus on training. perhaps he'd step away for just a moment to remember how to breathe.
• asks you to not eat during training, as it could be a choking hazard. he really just says that so you'd stop before he gets too hot under the collar.
• makes you hand it to him to discard, but when he sees the string of saliva as you remove it from your mouth you find it hard to miss the twitch in his eye.
• when you notice how much it gets to him, you make an extra effort to look up at him through your lashes when your plush lips pull the lollipop out with a pop. it's almost like a little game, how much you can do it before liu kang snaps.
johnny cage
• johnny couldn't ignore what you were doing, he would probably be under the delusion that you're sucking on it like that on purpose.
• takes several double takes throughout the day, having very little shame in being caught. he'd just grin at you and shrug after a light scolding.
• even when you put your lollipop onto your plate to eat or on the rare occasion you don't have one in, johnny's reeling over the tint to your lips. it looks like a pretty coat of lipstick, and johnny's hand squeezes so tightly on his chopsticks as his mind wanders, the boys wonder if it just might snap in two.
• it takes him some time, he doesn't want to come off as too weird after all, but at some point he draws the line when you flatten your tongue and swipe the lollipop down the entire length. johnny snatches it from your hand and puts it in his own mouth.
• could he recall the flavor, or is he too focused on your spit mixing with his? both! gross.
• winks at you as the stick dangles from his lips, trying not to lose his own mind over the taste.
• "i like this flavor," he cockily observes, pulling it out to inspect it. "tastes like you, sugar."
•...gross. did you even want to share? no. are you complaining? mm, not really.
kenshi takahashi
• kenshi cuts the habit short as soon as he notices. training is his priority. kicks, punches, slashes, the way the lollipop coats with your — NO.
• he coldly hisses orders at you to "spit that thing out." doesn't say why, doesn't say much other than that. what else could he say, "don't do that before i pop a hard-on?" are you crazy?
• speaking of kenshi, he's literally losing his mind over it but puts every ounce of anger he has accumulated since meeting johnny into hiding his expressions.
• "are you always this childish?" crossing his arms and rolling his eyes when you unwrap yet another one from your pocket... how many are in there?
• hell, he might even try to tell on you. might make a stabbing comment every now and then when you're all together to train. choking hazard this, immature that.
• he wants to do what johnny does and just get a taste, but he's not as graceful. yanking it from your lips after catching it on your teeth, kenshi throws it on the ground and stomps on it, shattering the sugary goodness all over the cobblestone floor. sad face :(
• you want to be mad, to rip him a new one for not knowing how to mind his own business, but you A) have more in your room, and B) notice his blatantly obvious red hue to his face, and you know it's not anger.
kung lao
• all the charm, none of the grace. help this man, the image of your mouth haunts him at the unholiest of hours.
• lao would, at times, flick the stick dangling from your lips just to make it crack against your teeth and make you whine in surprise. he'd shrug and walk off, like it was somehow your fault for having a lollipop in the first place.
• he's not oblivious to your subtle advances when your tongue swirls around the flavored orb, and he's no better.
• "you really are shameless, aren't you?" kung lao crosses his arms with a huff, trying to roll his eyes but looking away feels like an incomprehensible task.
• pesters you endlessly, asks about the flavor and brand and if they're just like the ones at home! but he's just doing it so he can admire the glossy tint to your tongue and lips from the artificial dyes.
• stares so hard, raiden has to heel him in the foot so he'd pay attention to liu kang's lectures and announcements. it's like he's the only one that can hear the amplified swirling in your mouth, and he probably is (that is, because he is straining himself to hear).
• lao would ask if you had any extra in your pocket (of course you do!) and pop one into his mouth himself, giving you a taste of what he's been losing his mind over as his pursed lips suck and play with the lollipop. you thought you could get away with toying with him, didn't you? now it's an even playing field!
raiden
• come on, champion, keep it together! everyone notices the static raising their hairs when they walk by. that, and he's white-knuckling the fabric of his robes so hard they might just tear. thank god for his hat, as it conceals both the sun and his creeping blush.
• the sassy man apocalypse infects even raiden. sure, he's not a timid guy in the slightest, but something about how you toy with the candy makes him feel weak in the knees.
• "do you really need to have one at all times?" he'd ask rhetorically as he tucks his hands under his armpits. "those are pretty unhealthy for you." you become a victim of his polite scrutinizing, insisting that that much candy is bound to have a negative effect on you. anything to get you to put that thing away so he doesn't shock the next person he touches.
• raiden is trained, he is disciplined, he knows better than to stare. but the moment you're in his peripherals, he's side-eyeing you so hard you wonder if he's trying to send a telepathic message.
• whining his name as you pathetically jump up to reach his extended arm, clawing at the fabric after he tore away your lollipop the moment you pulled it from your lips. your subtle pouting brings a smug smile to his face as he watches you fruitlessly attempt to climb up his body.
• "four before noon is more than enough," he tuts, looking up at the lollipop before getting a downright evil idea. he's well-mannered and well-spoken, but if the opportunity to toy with you arises, of course he's taking it. boldness is one of his wildcard traits!
• he pulls the lollipop down into his mouth, sucking it in before you have a chance to protest. staring in awe as raiden moves the lollipop around in his mouth, an eyebrow quirked as he stares down at you.
• "hm," he hums, grinning down at you with the stick between his teeth. "this is actually quite nice." and of course, you're too flustered to argue further, instead retreating to your room to get a new one - and calm down from that sight.
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