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rose-tea-and-strawberries · 7 months ago

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🎀💗 Birthday Kisses With Ace and Deuce 💗🎀

Since it’s my birthday (again) I thought I’d give myself a little treat

Reader is written as female

Masterlist

ACE TRAPPOLA

If there’s one thing you know about Ace was that he loved affection - kisses, cuddles, you name it. As much as he loved to play up the PDA to feed his ever growing ego, get a rise out of everyone in his vicinity, and get gifted your flustered expression, he truly did love smooching you until the both of you were left breathless, if the way he would smile into every kiss was any indication, or the delirious joy that would spread across his reddened face.

And it wasn’t like you were against his insatiable need for affection, if anything you enabled and emboldened him. If your heads weren’t resting on each other’s shoulders, or his arm isn’t fused around your waist, then you were the one reaching out for his hand, or pulling him in by his collar or tie, or sending him flying kisses or finger hearts whenever your eyes would meet.

The only ‘problem’, so to speak, was that Ace far preferred to give affection rather than receive it and if there was one way to describe Ace’s love it was ‘overflowing’. If you pecked his cheek or forehead or gave him a hurried kiss on his lips, or even just throw your arms around him with words of praise, he’ll instantly wrap his fingers around your wrist, pull you towards him, and cradle your face in his hands before taking your breath away and making you see stars, not caring (or perhaps even because) of the crowd around. Countless times the pair of you have been chided by Coach Vargas for your boyfriend’s late arrival for practice or interschool match whilst the rest of the team would either roll their eyes or send teasing smirks in your direction as you’d hurriedly smooth down your hair or arrange your askew clothes (meanwhile, Ace would make no indication of even thinking of doing the same as he’d stroll into the gymnasium with that lopsided grin).

So knowing that, you weren’t the least bit surprised to find yourself being on the receiving end of an onslaught the first thing on the morning of your birthday. For a boy like Ace, whose daily kiss count is somewhere around a hundred, the idea of not giving you kisses on such an occasion was blasphemy.

“You-you know,” you managed to gasp out between the split second it took for the redhead to move from your lips to your jawline, switching between slow and tender kisses and a flurry of pecks peppering down your neck, “birthday kisses are really only supposed to-”

You cut yourself off with a keen when you feel teeth lightly graze the junction between your neck and shoulder.

“Psh, only-shmonly,” Ace scoffs after his mouth leaves your skin with a smack, “when have I ever been the one to do things the way they’re supposed to be done. No way am I limiting myself.”

And he goes back to your mouth, kissing you harshly and desperately but still managing to seep in that gentle care you’ve always felt in his embrace. Against your own judgement, your hands find purchase in ginger locks pressing him closer.

Normally, you’d be fine having a make out session but your current position, with you straddling him on the living room sofa of your dilapidated dormitory, one of his hands around your waist to keep you steady, where just about anyone could walk in and see, wasn’t exactly ideal. The ghosts were busy playing their card game in the kitchen, though it was an open secret that they were very much aware of what inevitably happens every time Ace comes makes a visit and Grim could only be distracted with extra servings of breakfast tuna for so long, especially since his clinginess and need for affection and instant gratification was the only one that could rival Ace’s - those two certainly give each other a run for each other’s money and you loved both of them very much.

Once the unfortunate need for oxygen makes you pull away, he is quick to cup your face in his palms and through the hazy vision past your eyelashes, all you could sense was a blur before you were pulled down and felt his mouth pressing against your cheeks, your forehead, your neck, any sliver of uncovered skin he could reach. Fireworks crackled beneath your skin as you panted, red hair tickling under your chin as Ace did nothing to soothe the frantic beating of your heart. You could feel his lips curling upwards at the space between your collarbones, an arm tightening around your waist, as he looks up at you.

“Say, babe?” he sings, a devilish smile betraying the oh-so-innocent lilt of his voice, “what do you say to getting a hickey as your first present of the day.”

Despite the euphoric fog clouding your head, you managed to weakly smack him on the shoulder, “Ace! Don’t you dare!”

“Kidding, kidding,” he chuckles and hugs you, pulling you downwards and sideways so that he was now spooning you on the couch, your back against his chest and his arms wrapped around you, all nice and snug. With his lips to your ear, he whispers, “Happy birthday, Y/N. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

You snuggle back against him, “Thank you, Ace. You sure know how to make me feel special.”

Without a word of warning, you found yourself being unceremoniously turned on you back, and Ace was on his knees, holding himself above you, his hands on either side of your head.

“Ace! What-”

“I want to show just how special you are,” he smirks, a hand trailing down the collar of your blouse and stopping right at the first buttoned-up button, fingers twiddling with the smooth, round plastic, “is that alright, sweetheart?”

DEUCE SPADE

“Happy birthday!” The first thing that greeted you when you opened the door of your dormitory was a bouquet of fresh purple roses, baby breath and caspia, all wrapped up in baby pink and lilac tissue paper and tied together with a delicate blush pink ribbon.

You blinked at the flowers being thrusted into your face before you smiled at the red faced boy holding them, “thank you, Deuce. Would you like to come in?”

Once you’ve taken the bouquet from him, you step aside, letting him enter.

“Do you like them?” he blurts out, rubbing the back of his neck, “I thought I’d get you some flowers since it’s your birthday and all - not that these flowers are your gift or anything. I did get you an actual gift and not just something that would die in like a week. I wrapped it and everything only it doesn’t really look that nice since I’ve never really wrapped a present or anything so I’m really sorry and I don’t even know if you like what I got you so-”

“Deuce,” you say gently, placing a hand on his shoulder, “I love the flowers and I’m sure I’ll love what you’ve gotten for me. Honestly, the best present you can give me is staying here by my side.”

He sputters and coughs before clearing his throat, “well, I don’t plan on doing anything else.”

After unhooking his back from his shoulder, he took out a small box and handed it to you with a shy smile, his head bent so that his fringe shadowed his eyes, as he meekly said, “here you go.”

Taking it from him, you inspected the packaging. You could see where he was coming from since the clumsily taped on baby chick patterned wrapping paper was far from what most people would call ‘neat’. It was messy and unorganised, with rips and creases and too much cellotape covering it, but it was so quintessentially Deuce you couldn’t help but swoon. Affection bubbled up within you at the thought of Deuce trying his hardest to wrap this, the image of his adorably frustrated face with his furrowed eyebrows and wide, confused doe eyes being brought to the front of your mind. You knew that if you laughed, he would’ve taken your endearment as something to be embarrassed about so you forced yourself to keep silent.

You did away with the covering to find yourself holding a sleek black cardboard box. Opening it up, you found a block of foam inside with a pretty little obsidian coloured, spade shaped metal pendant sitting inside.

“Oh, Deuce,” you gasp, turning to look at him in adoration, “it’s-it’s gorgeous. I love it.”

“Really?”

“Truly,” you carefully pull on the pendant, letting the thin silver necklace it’s attached to cascade below it, and gently place the box down, “would you put it on for me, please?”

He gulped, “s-sure.”

With shaking hands, he takes the necklace from you and you turn around, swiping your hair to the side with a swish of your hand to give him more access. Behind you, you hear the telltale click of a clasp before you feel a thin strand of cold metal rest against your nape. You were about to turn back around but before you could move, strong arms circle around your waist, sturdy enough to hold you in place but loose enough to give you wiggle room, and pull you against him and soft lips press against the back of your neck. Slow and tenderly, his mouth lingered before it pulled away.

You spun around and wrapped your own arms around his neck before drawing him into a kiss of your own. He takes a few steps forwards and pushes you backwards so your spine meets the hard wood of your front door, and instead of feeling pain, all you could focus on was the way his lips moved against yours, at how perfectly the two of you slotted against each other like jigsaw pieces that were made only to complement each other.

Deuce naturally ran warm but now his calloused hands were burning, leaving sparks in their wake. His mouth finds its home along your neck and your fingers play with the navy strands at his nape.

“So beautiful,” he whispers against you, “I love you so much. It scares me sometimes - just how amazing you are. I’m worried that when I’m with you I will start to believe I'm greater than I actually am.”

“Don’t be silly, Deuce,” you reply, “you’re so strong and brave and brilliant. You’re so much smarter than you think you are and are so much better than you give yourself credit for. All of your achievements are your own. A result of your own hard work. And there'll never be a day when I’m not proud of you.”

“Hey,” he looks at you with almost glowing eyes and gives you a faux-annoyed look, only it doesn’t sell when paired with the redness that has spread across his cheeks, “today is supposed to be about you. It’s your birthday.”

“Exactly, it’s my birthday. And if I want to spend it praising my handsome boyfriend then I should be allowed to do so.”

He huffs, but it’s obviously for show, and leans in to claim your lips yet again.

“Thank you so much for being born,” he says once he parts away, “you’ve made my life so much brighter and you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I promise to make you happy for as long as I live.”

#twst #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #deuce spade x reader #ace trappola x reader #fem reader

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residenthughes · 9 months ago

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slow sundays - mat barzal

pairing: mat barzal x gender neutral reader

word count: 1k

tags/warnings: fluff, domestic fluff, no mention of y/n

summary: any day spent with barzal is always good, especially sundays.

notes: a little something i wrote when i should have been sleeping, oops! may write a longer version, may not but i'll definitely write up something else longer for barzy, as well as some other fics that i've started and am very excited to share, hehe! as always, hope this finds u well and that you enjoy this small ball of fluff. much love! <3

oh! forgot to mention, this post is inspired by this post by @novelbear! they spoil tumblr rotten with such adorable prompts! :)

Sundays are your favourite days of the week. The normal anxieties that creep in from a long lived weekend cease to exist in your timeline, a day defined by slow sweetness and sacred serenity. This year you’ve really lucked out with said day, most of Mat’s games scheduled another time and on the off chance he has practice, it’s before you can even pry yourself from the comfort of your cloud-like mattress. This is one of those Sundays, where you’re tucked away in citrus scented sheets, fast asleep as Mat presses a tender kiss on the bridge of your nose before he goes off to do what he does best, leaving you to emerge from your cocoon whenever you please.

You decide shortly after Mat departs to desert the covers, arranging them neatly with a sleepy pout set onto your puffy lips before starting your share of morning chores. Amidst the array of bits and bobs you cater to around your cosy home, you cook up a breakfast built for two - piping hot and ready to eat by the time Mat’s car pulls up the driveway.

You drape your arms lazily around his nape, beaming a lovesick grin as you peck your long-time lover. “Good practice?”

“Great practice,” he breathes against you, minty fresh with the faint waft of his accompanying cologne. His strong arms pull you impossibly closer, your body snug in his embrace. “But I’ve got better things waiting for me right here.”

His large hands cup a handful of your butt, giving it a cheeky squeeze that involuntarily makes you jump against him, your cheeks crimsoning. “And to think, that’s the thanks I get for making us breakfast.”

Mat releases his grip as you back away, disbelief washing all over his sculpted features as he gives you a cocked eyebrow and a petty laugh. “Says the one who-”

Your hand comes up, an index finger raised. “Don’t finish that sentence.”

Wordlessly, Mat holds his hands up in surrender, brazen-faced as you send him an eye-roll with crossed arms. Despite the circumstances, your hands find the top of his zipper, opening up his coat before you hang it up near the door in perfect routine. The selfless action still warrants one of your favourite kisses from your boyfriend, kisses from side-to-side - a kiss on the cheek, nose and cheek again. A simple action but one that robs you of all oxygen, a lightness in your limbs and a tingle down your spine. You soon turn around with Mat trailing not far behind as you venture back to your spacious kitchen, settling at the quaint table for two - a single vase rose separating your plates packed with all your breakfast favourites.

Before you have the chance to take your seat at your baby blue painted table, Mat comes up from behind you, cradling you in his sugary embrace as he plants a delicate kiss against your temple, your heart overflowing with the magic of your slow Sundays together. “How’d I get so lucky?”

You hum blissfully, a hand delicate against his stubble-ridden cheek as you simply exist together, limbs tangled as you savour the moment like sand slipping through your fingertips. A quick kiss against Mat’s prickly cheek puts a pause on the moment, your grin giddy as your hand takes Mat’s as you direct him to sit, which he does - no questions asked, fuschia dusted upon the apples of his cheeks.

You fall into perfect routine, your brunch a show that consists of all your favourites: Mat’s cutlery glimmering in the soft rays pouring into the windowed kitchen as he cuts his food, ceremoniously offering you the first bite of his food with the same smitten closed mouth smile that he had the first day he met you. Happily, you accept his generous offer and take a bite, beaming with full rosy cheeks as he swipes the crumbs with such an earnest shimmer in his eyes that it makes your heart squeeze with joy.

Your brunch continues in similar fashion, two enamoured partners basking in the company of another as you bond over a hearty plate of food, time lost in endless dialogues and timeless ‘I love you’s. When there’s nothing but crumbs speckled across your ceramic plates, Mat shoos you away before you can get a protest in, you resorting to sulking on the edge of couch as the sounds of plates clinking together competes with the noise coming from the TV.

When everything’s said and done, the washing up dried and packed away, Mat shuffles into the lounge, falling into the couch with a grunt as he positions himself as close to you as possible. You can never bring yourself to mind, head falling to his broad shoulder once he’s propped his feet against the hickory coffee table with his arm circling your shoulders. Another kiss atop your head tells you he’s settled and you melt into his side, no objections sounding from your long-time boyfriend as reruns of 'The Bachelor' blare from the TV. If anything, Mat immerses just as much as you. Well, as much as the slightly fatigue man can as his fingers absently fiddle with locks of your hair, the gesture a lullaby that aids your sudden drowsiness that links hands with the warmth emitting from Mat’s body that always fits against yours like a puzzle piece.

Before you’re able to drift away into a shallow slumber, a slumber you both shall share prior to your simple plans for the day, Mat’s sleep-laced voice calls out to you.

“Waking up next to you is the best part of my day.”

And you chuckle softly because of the simple fact you know this to be true - evidenced in the way affirmations of love fall so easily from his lips, in the way he never allows you to walk near any busy roads and buys you flowers just because. And, best of all, when your precious Sunday comes and goes, your Monday view consists of your beautiful boyfriend as you reverse out of your driveway, a sleepy smile mellowed into his features as he sees you off, hollering one and the same line wishing you a great day at work, which is nothing but granted if you’ve got him by your side.

#mb13 #mat barzal #mathew barzal #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal fic #mat barzal fluff #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal x you #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #new york islanders #ny isles #ny islanders #residenthughes

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benevolentbones · 4 months ago

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distance | spencer reid x reader

song fic based on distance by christina perri

warnings: angsty-ish? (un)requited love? gender neutral reader

word count: 2.3k

summary: spencer suddenly begins to distance himself from you, and you don’t know why.

a/n: i hope you enjoy this!!! i recommend you listen to the song before/during reading this<3 reblogs and comments appreciated

it was early afternoon at the bau, the team were all seated at their respective desks reading over case files and filling in paperwork.

a pale golden light filled the room as sunshine streamed in through the large east-facing windows of the bullpen.

a mosaic of reflections was created as it danced off the metal and glass surfaces, giving the otherwise ordinary scene a hint of magic. the desks, which were before overflowing with paperwork and coffee cups, appeared to be glowing softly, with the shadows cast by their contents extending far and wide across the ground.

the sun is filling up the room,

and i can hear you dreaming.

spencer yawned and leaned back in his seat, his hair a mess as he continued working on the mountain of paperwork. he glanced at you and notices the way the sunlight shined on your face, turning his head so you didn't notice him staring.

he was trying his best to keep his composure as he felt a swarm of butterflies in his stomach. there was something about the way you would look focused, your eyes scanning over documents, that made his heart skip a beat.

do you feel the way i do, right now?

i wish we would just give up,

'cause the best part is falling.

morgan walked over to spencer's desk, his curiosity piqued by spencer's frequent glances in your direction. he leaned against the partition, arms crossed, and waited for spencer to look up from his paperwork.

"hey, lover boy," morgan started, a playful tone in his voice. "i've been noticing something.” spencer eyed morgan, his brows furrowed in confusion.

“you've been staring at y/n a lot today. you got a little crush on them or something?" morgan’s eyes trailed over to you, you were stacking some files on your desk.

spencer's face turned crimson as he fumbled with the pen in his hand. "w-what? no, no, it's not like that-" he stammered, his eyes darting around as if searching for an escape.

morgan raised an eyebrow, a knowing smile creeping across his face. "oh really? because it sure looks like it from here."

spencer took a deep breath, trying to collect himself. "i wasn't staring. i mean, i might have looked over a few times, but it’s just because... because they’re working on the same case as i am."

morgan chuckled, shaking his head. "sure, man. whatever you say. just be careful, though. you might want to try being a bit less obvious if you don't want anyone else to notice."

as Morgan shuffled away, he looked back and shot spencer a wink. the hazel eyed man buried his face in his hands, wishing he could disappear into his desk.

“it’s not like that..” he muttered into his hands, lying to himself.

call it anything but love.

you had noticed spencer’s behaviour changing towards you over the last few weeks, he seemed a lot more reserved, closed off, and to be completely honest it was bothering you more than you’d like to admit.

spencer was one of your close friends at the bau, you always spent time with him, especially on your lunch break, but recently he had been taking lunch at a separate time, the reason unbeknownst to you.

so there you were, sitting alone in the lunch room for the fourth day in a row that week, aimlessly scraping your fork against your plate. your free hand intertwining with the wires of your headphones as you listened to music, filling the silence with your favourite band.

you kept your head low, not noticing spencer enter the lunchroom. he paused briefly in the doorway, his gaze fixing on your form. he let out a small sigh, his expression saddening when he notices you’re alone.

he hated avoiding you, this is when you both would usually chat about your day or make plans to hang out after work- and there he was distancing himself from you because he didn’t want to ruin the friendship because of his silly feelings.

he chewed on his bottom lip, mentally battling it out in his brain wether he should go and speak to you or not. he decided on the latter, mumbling to himself.

“i love you- and i hate it.”

and i will make sure to keep my distance,

say i love you when you're not listening,

how long, can we keep this, up?

the team had just been assigned a new case, everyone stood around as jj briefed them. spencer arrived in late, the only remaining spot free would cause him to be wedged between morgan and you.

he reluctantly stood beside you, glancing over to your form. his face growing warm when he noticed your eyes on him, giving him a reserved smile.

he could feel his breath hitch in his throat at your proximity, he couldn’t recall the last time he was the close to you in the last few weeks and it was driving him insane.

please don't stand so close to me

i’m having trouble breathing.

for the entire briefing, spencer spent his time casting glances in your direction. god, he thought, you looked so beautiful as you intently listened to jj speak.

your shirt hugging your frame perfectly, the sleeves rolled up to your elbows. you wore your signature perfume, the familiar scent clawing at his senses.

how he wanted to just pull you aside as kiss you, tell you how he’s been feeling the last few weeks- how he wished that you would want him back, he dreamed of being with you and it was ruining his life.

but he was afraid. afraid he would mess things up with you, afraid you wouldn’t feel the same and everything would be different, more than it already was. he wasn’t good in relationships, he thought, he wasn’t good enough for you. they never worked out well for him- and he couldn’t do that to you. he loved you too much.

i'm afraid of what you'll see, right now.

i'll give you everything i am,

all my broken heartbeats.

until i know you'll understand.

when it was time for the team to board the jet, spencer opted to sit in the corner next to morgan. as you walked down the aircraft, your eyes flickered over his seated form, feeling a slight pang in your chest.

spencer always sat with you- you would both usually read together or play chess- or he would let you sleep against his shoulder. but seeing him sitting with morgan, his head already buried in a book, really upset you.

you shuffled to the other side of the jet, sitting down in your usual spot on the couch, a small frown etched onto your features, which didn’t go unnoticed by the majority of the team. they had all come to realise spencer’s draw back from you, and it was starting to effect both spencer and your work.

as the jet took off, everyone busied themselves, reading over case files or chatting to each other quietly. you racked your brain for a reason why spencer had been so distant with you, did you do something wrong? did you upset him? you couldn’t figure it out, and it was driving you mad.

you worried that maybe he caught onto your feelings for him, and that this was his way of showing he had no interest in you. you frowned even more at the thought, putting your headphones on to try and distract from the gnawing pain in your chest.

morgan glanced down the jet, noticing your reclusive form and upset facial expression. he hated to see you like that. he turned to spencer, almost knocking the book the younger man was reading, out of his hands.

“what was that for?” spencer spoke in a defensive tone, shutting the book to focus his attention on morgan.

“what’s the deal reid?” morgan spoke, his tone confrontational unlike how he usually joked. “why are you avoiding y/n?”

spencer felt a pang of guilt, his dark eyes quickly flickering onto you. you sat with your knees pressed to your chest, your chin resting on top of them. ��i’m not-“

“cut the crap- yes you are. what’s your problem, huh?” morgan cut him off, more harshly then he had intended.

spencer’s gaze drifts over to you, examining you for a moment before going back to morgan, who was impatiently waiting for an answer.

“i..” he began, internally conflicted on wether he should explain himself to the older man beside him. “i- i love them. and i know they don’t feel the same- i’m not good enough.” he mumbled out lowly so only morgan could pick up on his words.

“you are an idiot, you know that reid?” morgan ran a hand over his face, partially annoyed at the fact that spencer could be so oblivious at times.

and i will make sure to keep my distance,

say i love you when you're not listening,

how long, can we keep this, up?

after the team landed, everyone disembarked the jet. you quickly put your headphones in your go bag and shuffled down the jet. spencer stood from his seated position as you passed, he reached out a hand, his mouth forming words that couldn’t escape past his lips. you moved past him, your bag bumping against his arm as you left.

spencer looked back to morgan, who raised his eyebrow giving spencer a knowing look. if he didn’t say something today he would lose you, your friendship.

after a long day of working on the case, traveling from crime scene to crime scene, hotch finally called the team in for the night. you were all set up in a fairly decent hotel for the night.

hotch passed out keycards to the entire team, slowly handing you the piece of plastic, a remorseful look plastered on his usually stern features. you thanked him and walked in the direction of your room, unknownst to you that someone was following.

“y/n- wait.” spencer called out, stopping you in your tracks right outside your hotel room.

you stared back at him, noticing the concern in his voice. “what is it, spencer.” your voice was tired, today was exhausting and you wanted nothing more than slip into your bed and fall asleep.

“can..can we talk?”

you ran a hand through your hair, chewing on the inside of your cheek. “i’m really tired reid..” you trailed off. this stung him a bit, you never referred to him by his last name. his facial expression contorted, a sad looking washing over his features.

your eyes softened, despite it all you still loved him. “…what is it.” you mumbled out, leaning against the wallpaper on the corridor.

“i- i’m sorry.”

you sighed, trying to understand the depth of his apology. “for what..”

spencer’s shoulders slumped as he looked down at his hands, fidgeting with his own hotel key card. “for everything…” he paused, his dark eyes trailing up your body to meet yours.

“for not- talking to you- for keeping my distance- i didn’t mean..”

“why, why did you do it?” you muttered out, your gaze not leaving his taller form.

spencer let out a shaky breath “i was afraid-“

“afraid of what? we’ve been friends for years- and suddenly you just stop talking to me out of nowhere- what did i do wrong?” you scoffed out, folding your arms over your chest.

spencer averted his eyes, glancing around the hall at the faded wallpaper, the patterned carpets..anything but you.

“that’s exactly why- i didn’t want to ruin things.”

“for someone so logical- you’re not making any sense at all, spencer.”

he huffed slightly, his hazel eyes flickering over you once more. “i was afraid of losing you if i told you- i-“ he struggled to continue his sentence.

you shifted your stance, your body language becoming less defensive than it had been.

and i keep waiting

for you to take me

and you keep waiting

to save what we had

“how would you lose me..”

“if i told you how- how i feel- our friendship would be ruined- and i didn’t want to lose that, i care about you too much..” he trailed off, his soft eyes staring right back at you.

your eyebrows furrowed slightly, face warming. what did he mean by that. a small scoff passed your lips as you spoke. “how would you know, you didn’t communicate anything to me. you just shut yourself off.”

spencer looked down at his shoes, his voice soft. “i know…i’m sorry.”

you could hear the sincerity in his voice, you knew he felt guilty for this. you inhaled through your nose before you spoke. “look spencer..i’m tired. lets just…continue this tomorrow.”

he let out a defeated sigh, nodding towards you. “okay..goodnight y/n.” he trailed off, watching as you turned to your hotel room door, slipping the keycard into the lock.

“goodnight spencer…”

make sure to keep my distance,

say i love you when you're not listening,

how long, 'til we call this love?

taglist!! @0108s22m @rainoftearss @potatovoyager @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @luvmia222 @shardsofmarxx @silver138 @lover-of-books-and-tea @thedancingnerdmermaid @khxna

#criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds requests #criminal minds fluff #SoundCloud

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chosos-lesbo · 2 months ago

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sweet angel

pairing: choso x reader

synopsis: (continuation of this smau) choso is struggling, and you come to his aid.

word count: <1k

warnings: a lot of crying, probably cringe lmao

a/n: i’m gonna be honest…i kind of hate this, but i didn’t want to keep everyone waiting 😅 so i’ll work on revising later, but for the time being, it is what it is and ain’t what it ain’t lol. also, the pic is from pinterest 🙂‍↕️

you knocked on the door to choso’s apartment, before testing the handle. he did unlock the door like you had asked.

“it’s me, cho!” you shout, taking a short step inside, before turning to shut and lock the door. when you rounded back to walk into the living room, you’re met with choso standing but a foot away. “oh my god!”

his tear stained cheeks began to get wet with fresh tears, as you stand with your hand over your heart. “i’m sorry, baby. you scared the crap outta me,” you say, closing the distance by pulling him into a hug.

his arms circle tightly around your waist, as one of your hands is holding his head to your neck and the other rubbing soothing circles on his back. you can feel his breaths become more shallow as his hands ball in fists clutching your shirt.

“it’s okay, let it all out,” you whisper into his hair, and that was all the signal he needed to stop silencing his cries. tears burned at your eyes, his broken sobs weighing heavily on your heart.

it felt like an eternity that you stood in each other’s arms, before his hands let go of your shirt. his hands smoothed along your hips, as you loosened your hold on him, moving your hands to the top of his shoulders.

“m-my head hurts,” he stutters, trying to catch his breath.

“poor baby,” you pout, rubbing his shoulder, hand grazing his arm as you find his. you squeeze his hand twice before interlocking your fingers. “let’s get you some water and medicine, and we can go to bed.”

he sniffles, nodding gently as he lets you guide him. it’s a short trip to the kitchen, reaching to the drying rack next to the sink to get a glass. you go to let go of his hand, so you can turn on the faucet, only for his grip to tighten. instead, he raises his own free hand to turn it on for you.

you put the cup under the running faucet, and he turns the water off just in time before it overflowed. you set the full glass on the counter and reach in the cabinet to grab the tylenol. you hold it out by the lid, waiting for choso’s hand to assist again.

once choso takes the medicine and finishes off the glass of water, you lead him to his bedroom. it isn’t until he goes to climb in bed that he finally lets go of your hand, allowing you to crawl in after him.

you make yourself comfortable on your back before letting him lay his head on your chest. you pull his hair out of the bun he had it in, combing it down with your fingers.

“i’m sorry,” he mumbles into your shirt, and you could feel the fresh tears wetting your shirt again.

“what are you apologizing for, baby?”

“y-you shou-shouldn’t have had t-to come,” he finally manages to say, and the sadness in his voice shattered your already broken heart.

“you didn’t ask me to, did you?” you question, and he responds by shaking his head no. “so that means i came here because i wanted to. i couldn’t let my sweet angel be alone when he was feeling like this.”

your hand never stopped combing the length of his hair, as you tried to find the right words. while it might not change his mind, something to at least give him enough peace to sleep through the night.

“i am so thankful for each and every day that i get to spend with you. and i know that yuuji loves having you around, especially because you’ll watch those stupid human earthworm movies with him,” you laugh, and you can hear his mumbled disagreement.

“they’re actually pretty good, when you think about it.”

“and it’s stuff like that, choso, that shows you’re a good person. you take the time to find the good in the bad, and you think about others before yourself. but it’s okay, in some instances to be selfish.

“you don’t ever have to forgive ken-jackass,” you get a wet laugh from choso, which works as a glue for your broken heart. “but i hope that one day, you’ll be able to forgive yourself. we can’t change what’s already happened, and quite frankly, i wouldn’t want to. and if that makes me a bad person, so be it.”

“b-but you’re not a bad person,” choso pouts, moving up to his elbows to look you in the eyes. his tears have been reduced to the occasional sniffle, which is a good sign.

“and neither are you,” you say with a finality, cupping his face. the pads of your thumbs dry his tears, tucking his hair behind his ear. you lean forward to place a kiss on his forehead before falling back on the pillows.

he follows after you, laying his head on your chest again, but this time he puts his hand under your shirt, just resting on the warm skin on your side. he, also, moves one thigh to rest on yours, effectively locking you in place (unless you attempted to move him, which you wouldn’t anyway).

“thank you, for everything.”

“of course, baby. and i meant every single word. i love you so, so much, my sweet angel.”

he picks his head up, just long enough to turn and press a short, sweet kiss to your lips, before laying back down. “i love you more,” he replies, and shortly after, you could hear his soft snoring.

at that, you could rest easy too.

tag: @chiefinvestigatoremma

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #choso #choso x reader #jjk comfort

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brownskinlemon · 28 days ago

Text

Honey (D.F.): PT2

pairing: dominic fike x reader

warnings: 18+ smut, very detailed intercourse, p in v, fingering (fem receiving), no protection (please don't do this), 'i love you's, angsty + a bit sappy, cursing

read pt 1 here for context

synopsis: you and Dominic reconnect after your almost-relationship, over a tall, hot, and overflowing cup of jealousy

author's note: this is the final part! i hope you enjoy

recap from part 1 :

"He stands there in disbelief, and you can see the gears turning in his head as he realizes he’s cornered. You both stand there in a stalemate, and you silently beg him with your gaze to not run, to not give up.

“Can we not do this here? Can I give you a ride home, and we can..talk. Seriously this time.” His raspy voice is only slightly above a whisper.

Your eyes dance between his own doe eyes, trying to hide that all your resolve had dissipated, melted into honey and warmed your limbs from his voice.

“Okay.” You whisper, looking away from his burning gaze, stepping aside to let him lead the way. "

You're in the passenger seat of his car before you know it, the familiar car air fresheners and his cologne flooding your nose. The ride home is relatively silent, an antsy air buzzing around you, too scared to talk about the elephant in the backseat for the moment. Your gaze is trained out your window, as you sneak an occasional glance at the man next to you. The limbo you two are in dissipates as you arrive in front of your apartment building, and he parks. Silence.

You can't bring yourself to really, fully,look at him. Instead, you settle for crossing your arms over your torso to create some semblance of comfort in the thick tension of the car.

“Do you..” You pause to clear your throat. “Do you want to come up? I feel like I'm suffocating in here.” You admit.

“Yeah. Yeah that’s fine.” He turns the car off and you get out without sparing him a glance. As you scan into the building door, you hold it open for him behind you, and once he catches it you make your way to the elevator to push the button to your floor.

The ride up is just as excruciating as you predicted, you could feel the heat and intensity radiating off of him, and the way his eyes took in your profile. Once you arrive at your front door you swing the door open, knowing he was right on your trail. You walk forward until you're in the dead center of your living room, arms crossed over your chest with your back to him. Being back in your own home did nothing to dull the flood of nervousness flooding your cells.

When he says nothing, you turn to face him a good deal of feet away from you. His frame is frozen right in front of the door. You watch as his eyes search for remnants of another man’s presence in the details of your apartment, to no avail.

“I haven’t had anyone over since you, if that's what you’re wondering.” You mutter, and watch as his head snaps back to you, shoulders visibly relaxing.

You regard each other for a moment then, taking in the details of one another. The languid honey draping your veins began to pool between your legs, your logic of the moment no match for the raw, untapped desire the man in front of you created so easily. You had a serious facade to upkeep however, so you face away from him for your sake.

You made your way to your couch, ridding yourself of your shoes.

“You wanted to talk. Go.” You gestured to the couch across from you. He huffed, removing his shoes so as to not ruin your carpet, and sat across from you, leaning forward on his knees.

“I don’t think that I went about things the right way. I..I like you, alot.” Your heart sank at the admission. “I got fucking scared and ran when it felt real, you know? I know that’s not an excuse, and I know it was fucked up believe me. I’m sorry, I really, really am.”

You blinked away tears and nodded, letting him continue.

“I just want you to know I still feel that way. I know I have no right to come back into your life expecting you to still care but…I. When I saw you tonight, with him, I thought I had lost you for good. I should've said something, done something earlier. I left you in the dust just as confused as I was and that was unfair. I know I’m an asshole for that, and I don’t expect you to forget it or trust me , but you have to believe me when I say that.”

“Dom.” You finally found your voice after a few moments. “You don’t know how much I liked you, hell how much I still like you, even after all this stupid shit.” You chuckle dryly. “You can’t keep running when things get good. It’s not about solely giving in to some cosmic curse like you’re making it out to be. It’s about realizing it’s what you deserve. Do you think you deserve for me to love you?”

“No.” He says almost instantly, shaking his head as you watch his gaze flicker out to the window with watery eyes. You can’t help but momentarily wilt at the poor thing in front of you, the city lights draping his features gracefully.

“No?” You tilt your head sympathetically. “Well I do. And I do, love you. God I can’t believe I’m saying it but it's true. It’s true Dominic! You can storm out of here now and hop on the nearest plane and that would still never be far enough to make me stop loving you.” You feel a weight drop off your shoulders at your confession, it is quickly replaced with a knot of anxiety as you await his response.

Instead of speaking, he quickly makes his way to his feet, storming over to you hover over you, arms on either side of you on the couch. His face is mere inches away, and your head is tilted back to look up at him.

“Please, Y/N, please.” He sighs, eyes closing like he is struggling to keep his composure.

“What?” You ask breathlessly.

“Let me show you how I feel, I can’t-please baby please.”

“Show me.” Before the last word can make its full exit, his lips are on yours. His lips are even more soft than you expected, your lips following the lead of his own skilled ones. Your hands reach up to grab a desperate handful of his bicep and a small tuft of hair on the nape of his neck. You don’t even realize your tears are slipping until he leans back to wipe your tears.

“I’m so sorry, I love you, I love you.” He says between kisses.

“Dominic.” You duck away quickly from his kiss to speak. “Bedroom.” He lifts you into his arms with little to no effort.

Your room is just as it was before you left. The dimly lit room blankets you both in its serenity. In the back of your mind, you’re grateful for you deciding to clean up before you left.

He sits you on the edge of the bed, his large hand coming up to gently hold the side of your neck as he deepens the kiss, lulling your head back. He coaxes your body back onto the bed gently. He plays with the hem of your dress for a moment, looking back up to your watery and pleading gaze.

“May I?” He tilted his head. You nod silently, shuttering at the thought of him seeing you exposed in that way. You watched as his hands came to gently brush the shoulders of your dress down, rolling it down to your hips. “Hips up.” He whispers. You oblige, and he proceeds until you are nearly bare in front of him.

He leans back down to kiss you, but before he can make contact again you stop him. “Wait.”

“What?” His eyebrows furrow in worry.

“You have too many clothes on. We’re uneven.” You gesture at his full outfit. He follows your gestures down with his eyes and chuckles at your dramatics.

“Fine fineee.” He concedes, leaning back to rid himself of his shirt. You can’t help the way your eyes glaze over as his pants follow suit. You had seen him in swim trunks once before but nothing compared to the way he looked like this, at this angle, and in this lighting. It was all too much.

Your skin set ablaze as it came in contact with his, him leaning over you once again. Your heart dropped as his hands reached under your arched back to unclip your bra, gently pulling it from your shoulders. You didn’t dare to look down at your bare chest for fear of growing self-conscious of his fiery gaze. His head ducked to your neck, lips barely brisking the sensitive skin, coaxing light whines out of you as he worked his way down. When his ambitious tongue met your nipple for the first time, you couldn’t do anything other than jump, rushing your hands into his mop of curls to make a purchase on something.

He pulls back. “Relax baby. I got you.” He resumes his torture, taking in your restlessness, his other hand goes to massage your unattended breast. He kisses his way down your trembling torso, stopping at your bikini line, he plays with the hem of it, tilting his head silently to ask for permission. You accept nearly too fast for your own good, eyes watching him as you become fully naked for him.

You want to curl into a tight knit ball the way his gaze scrutinizes your every detail lovingly. For a moment, you began to trail off into that place of sabotage, wanting to hide yourself from him. Before you can run off, he brings you back with a whisper, so faint you’re not sure if it was for you.

“So beautiful. Oh my God.” His eyes scan you every feature, settling back on your face. He watches your face closely as your eyes squeeze together and your chest heaves unevenly, the intensity of the moment clearly overwhelming you . “Hey-” He tuts, “Look at me.” His gentle tone almost, almost, forces your unwilling eyes open. His large hands slide up the expanse of your torso, before he suddenly steps back from you completely.

Your eyes shoot open and you sit up completely, finding him no longer in front of you. You watch over your shoulder, as he climbs onto the bed, leaning back against the headboard. You turn around to face him completely from your perch on the edge of the bed.

“What…what are you doing?” You ask breathlessly.

“C’mere.” He says casually, with an undercurrent of determination, patting his lap. You lag for a moment, but you can’t deny the way your body is called to him, nearly floating over like a moth to a flame. Once you are within inches of him, he wraps his hand around your waist, flipping you back around quickly so that your back is against his firm chest.

You look straight ahead as you find your breath, transfixed on the view ahead of you: You and him in the large mirror in front of your bed. You took notice of the light sheen of your skin in the city lights dancing around the room. Your eyes moved to Dominic’s in the mirror, flooded with an intensity that made you squirm. His chest was warm against your back, and his hands were even warmer as they finally rejoined with your skin. He stared over your body in the mirror as his hands trailed down to your bikini line. Digits ghost the hyperactive area, an untapped desire making you unable to stay still in his grasp.

“May I make you feel good?” You nod almost automatically, and his nod mirrors yours at your submissiveness.His hands hook under your knees, pulling them apart and up towards your chest, hands creeping towards your center in a precise dance. His tongue meets your neck, licking pliantly up your sensitive skin while his hands finally meet your sensitive clit. You jolt, nearly jumping out of your own skin. A whine bubbles from your throat at the dual contact.

“Y’know, I always imagined how you would look like this.” He speaks near your ear. “I could’ve never created something this beautiful in my brain.” The circles around your center coupled with the sultry words produce a warm blanket in your lower stomach, making you shiver with pleasure. “Look at me.”

Your hooded eyes gradually force open to obey, and they shoot open wide when he sinks his finger into you. Though his fingers are inside of you, and he should look utterly turned on, nothing but adoration graced his features watching your reactions to his touch.` Your spongy walls clench around the singular digit, and a guttural moan escapes your chest at the intrusion. When your head starts to lull back against his shoulder his free hand comes under your chin to hold your head back up, and your gaze back to him.

As he sinks another finger in easily and a choked gasp leaves your trembling, his head comes to hook onto your shoulder. “Look at how well we look together baby, you’re taking it so well.” He coos at you through the mirror. “I couldn’t bring myself to touch anyone else, this..this is all I wanted.”

What was once a pool of desire is boiling into an intense stir in your lower abdomen. Your legs thrash out and tense under his unending torture between your legs. Your heavy eyes struggle to stay open, and he takes notice of this.

“I..I c-can’t.” You say, followed with a pleading of his name like a mantra.

“Yes you can, and you will. You’re so good baby, so good. Give it to me.”

A few moments later you are succumbing to the weight of your lids and the skill of his fingers, near-convulsing under his grasp. Somewhere far in the distance you can hear his voice coaxing you lower into the abyss of serenity you were drowning in. The abyss is seemingly never ending, and when you finally come to, your eyes are heavy, head back against him.

With the heavy heaving of your chest, you slowly lift your head, to look back at the boy through your mirror. He is starstruck, eyes filled with a childlike wonder as they cascade over your dazed expression. A kiss on the side of your forehead is what he leaves you with as he gently slides from behind you, laying you back down on the bed.

He sits on the edge of the bed near you, holding your hand in his grasp as he stares down at you with adoration. The serene silence of the moment is broken when you finally find your voice.

“Dom?” You ask meekly.

“Yes?”

“Can you…can we go all the way?”

“Are you sure?” His excitement and arousal is evident, the rocky imprint in his pants a testament, but you watch his serious expression override it.

“Mhm.” You nod.

“Ok. Yeah. Do you want me to use protection?”

“I don’t think so.” You answer shyly.

“I need a definite answer baby.” He says warmly, hand massaging at your hip.

“No, no protection. I’m on birth control” Your gaze avoids his intense one. With your permission, he slowly comes between your legs, and after ridding himself of his briefs, you are left with his arousal lightly poking at your stomach as he hovers above you.

His head tilts in adoration as he smiles smally down at you, pushing your hair back to graze your cheek with your thumb.

“You ready?” He asks gently, a smile growing as he watches you nod back at him.

His breath stalls as he starts to run his tip through your soaked folds, mirroring the own stall of your chest at the sensitivity. As his tip slowly breaches your entrance, he watches your face. You tense under him, his length beginning to stir a mix of stinging at the stretch and a small flirt of muddled pleasure following close behind it.

Once he works a few inches into you, you pause at the size of him.

Your eyebrows furrow as your lips form a slight ‘o’. “Dom” Your voice cracks.

“It’s a lot huh?” You nod with a gasp. “You’re taking it so well.” Under his spell you feel the flirtatious pleasure begin to override the stretch as he bottoms out. You close your eyes at how full you feel, and his pauses inside you to let you fully adjust.

“Breath baby.I’ll wait here just like this for as long as you need.” After huffing out a few deep breaths, you feel as ready as you’ll ever be. You always expected your first time with him to be a fiery and pornographic scene that would make the kinkiest of people squirm. This scene, him gently between your thighs was nothing near pornographic, it was so gentle akin to a warm conversation between your bodies and your hearts.

“I’m ready.” You say with a squeak.

His hips begin to draw back gently a few inches, and press back into you again. His forehead comes to press against yours, his chest heaving at your warmth surrounding him.

“Holy shit baby.” He says, words nearly slurring together. You clench at the curse` leaving his lips.

He reaches down to grab your knee, hooking your leg up higher over his arm. The new angle lets him reach a spot within you that you never even knew existed.

“Dom I- oh my God.” Your hands grasp desperately at him, digging into his biceps like your life depended on it. “I love you.” You repeat it like a mantra, the desperation in your voice making it sound like you’re pleading.

His hips stutter at your words. “I love you beautiful. You were made for me.” You whine at his words. “God I’m so sorry for everything baby, I love you.” He reaches down between you both to draw pointed circles on your sensitive clit.

Your back arches up into him, and his head dips down to whisper to coax you gently into a second release. “Good girl, give it to me one more time.”

“Ah, it's- it’s a lot.”

“I know, but you can take it I know you can. Let me make you feel good baby, please.” Your head falls back into the pillow, and your hips betray you. Your body can’t decide whether to sink into the pleasure or run from the intensity, and it leaves you a tense, thrashing mess. Pleasure floods you from head to toe, and you’re not sure where he ends and you begin.

“Let it go. I’m here, I’ve got you.” He marks your neck with the admiration of a painter, and it's the feather that breaks the camel's back. With a long, drawn out moan reverberating the room, you release for the second time that night. You cling to him, sure to leave some marks from the intensity of your grip.

His forehead comes back to lean against yours, his hips stutter with you clenching relentlessly down on him. A breathless groan leaves his chest, and it's underlined with a hint of a whine. Just as you come back down, he fills you up, hips pressing deep into yours with a reverence that makes you moan. He pauses there for a few moments before he pulls out, the only sounds in the room being your collective uneven breathing. Neither of you are eager to come apart, the unbridled heaviness of the moment destroying the boundaries of where you both ended and begun. He pulls out with a hiss from the both of you, and sits up slightly and reaches for your hand in his own.

“Are you okay?” He asks, watching as your eyes peek open at him, a weak smile gracing your features as you hum a ‘yes’. “I know we talked earlier, but…I don’t want this to be something you end up regretting.”

“Why would I regret it?” You ask, eyebrows furrowing at his solemn tone as you slightly sat up.

“I don’t know. I know how stupid I acted, you should hate me right now.”

“But I don't. You don’t get to decide how I feel. Yes, it sucked. But I brought you back tonight because I think…it’s worth a second chance. Clean slate.” Your hands reach up to toy with his curls, and his head leans into your touch. “Pinky promise you’ll communicate this time, no running. I’d rather argue all night than hear nothing from you.”

He nibbles lightly on his bottom lip, doe eyes fixated on your pinky hovering in front of him. After a few moments, he reaches his hand up to interlock your pinkies. He leans down to kiss your pinky then your lips, the slow languid pace nearly rocking you asleep. He wanted nothing more than to be here as you fell asleep.

You shuffled into the comfort of his neck, and he held you there. He knew he’d have to wake you up in a bit to get you cleaned up, but for now he was content with the view of the city draping your features. The peace evident in your face was something he had truly missed, and he cooed to himself as you clung to him.

“Sweet dreams, honey.”

please comment your thoughts! mwah

#dominic fike #dominic fike x reader #dominic fike smut #fanfic #dom fike

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mj-iza-writer · 9 months ago

Text

Rough grumpy Caretaker... how I love them. -MJ

Warning.... swear words used.

Caretaker peaked in to check on Whumpee, they had just put them down for a nap.

They slightly opened the door and caught Whumpee darting into the bed.

"You better have a really good reason for being out of that bed", Caretaker opened the door further.

"I'm sorry Caretaker, I....", Whumpee started to violently cough.

"Oh Whumpee fuck off and give me a break", Caretaker slipped into his old British sailer accent.

"I'm sorry. I wanted to grab my book, and then you came along", Whumpee pleaded.

"I didn't put you to bed to read. You are very sick and need to sleep. That temperature of yours could freaken cook an egg", Caretaker sighed as they started to tuck Whumpee back into the blankets.

Whumpee groaned as the blankets were violently shoved under them.

"Ouch, can we be a little gentler please", Whumpee winced, "I am sick after all."

"Oh hush", Caretaker held a cup of water and offered Whumpee a drink, "now if I come back to this room again and you are up, I will tie you to the bed. Am I clear? I better hear happy Whumpee snores."

Whumpee grinned.

"I mean it, unless you are getting a drink or going to the bathroom do not get up", Caretaker sighed as they set the cup down, "work with me here. Your complexion is horrendous, I mean, white paint has more color. Plus, your trash bin is overflowing with tissue for the second time today."

Whumpee nodded, "I'm sorry Caretaker."

Caretaker ran his hand through Whumpee's sweaty hair, "that's better. Now, we need to focus on you getting better. Please try to get some rest, I'll have some food and medicine ready for you when you wake up... okay?"

Whumpee nodded again, "thankyou."

Caretaker waited thirty minutes before checking on Whumpee again ... thankfully Whumpee had finally listened and was snoring away.

"My happy little chainsaw", Caretaker marveled at how loud Whumpee was as they stepped into the room.

They grabbed the thermometer and tucked it under Whumpee's tongue without disturbing their sleep. Even the ding didn't wake Whumpee.

"Temp is a little better now", Caretaker looked the thermometer over, "not where I'm wanting it to be though."

Caretaker sighed, "shit", he whispered, "I might have to take you in for some better medicine. What I have might not be cutting it."

Caretaker was fixing some soup for Whumpee when they heard them moving around.

"Dinner's almost ready if you want to come down here", Caretaker called.

Whumpee struggled down the hall.

"I just woke up and puked", Whumpee frowned.

"Let me guess, you didn't get to the bucket in time", Caretaker sighed, "where did it end up?""

"I did get to the bucket, but some got on my blanket to... sorry", Whumpee looked down.

"Okay", Caretaker sighed, "go ahead and eat, I'll clean it up."

Whumpee was hunched over when Caretaker came back.

"Whumpee?", Caretaker panicked, "Whumpee?"

Whumpee jumped up and started to mumble.

"You're going to the hospital... now", Caretaker hurried.

"No, no. I'm fine", Whumpee mumbled with a slur.

"Don't argue, you're fucking going to the hospital. You're beyond fine", Caretaker went to help Whumpee stand.

"Okay, but I can walk", Whumpee started to get up.

"Oh, you want to walk by yourself. Okay, that sounds fun to watch. Okay, let's see", Caretaker crossed his arms.

Whumpee started to walk, but fell forward.

"Shit", Whumpee moaned.

"That's what I thought. Alright come on, work with me. I'm not dragging your ass, but you won't make it by yourself", Caretaker threw one of Whumpee's arms over his shoulder and led them to the car.

Whumpee's temperature was checked on arrival at the hospital. It had jumped back up again.

Caretaker helped Whumpee into a chair and followed the staff as they rushed them back.

Caretaker sighed as they started to fill out the forms, "Whumpee", Caretaker muttered to himself, "pain in my ass. You're lucky I love you... at least a little bit."

Whumpee squinted their eyes open, the morning sun met them.

They jumped up realizing this was not their bedroom.

"Easy", they felt Caretaker's hand grab them, "you're okay, your fever got really bad. I had to bring you to the hospital."

Whumpee rubbed their head, "I've got a major headache", they looked around the room, "the last thing I remember was sitting down at the table, I don't remember anything else."

"Well, the staff here has been very helpful in getting your fever to break, they got you on some medication and fluids", Caretaker sighed.

"That's good", Whumpee leaned back again, "I still don't feel great, plus, this headache."

"We'll get you better", Caretaker pressed the call button, "I promise."

Whumpee nodded as they laid down, "thankyou Caretaker."

Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all. @villainsandheroes @the-beasts-have-arrived @sacredwrath @porschethemermaid @monarchthefirst @generic-whumperz @bloodyandfrightened @freefallingup13 @notpeppermint @cyborg0109 @idontreallyexistyet @thebejeweledwatercat @painfulplots @whumpbump @everythingsscary @skittles-the-whumpee @expressionless-fr

#whump community #whumplr #whumblr #sick whumpee #sick fic whump #sick whump #whump stuff #whump writing #whump ideas #whump #whumpee #whump scenario #whumper #caretaking #caretaker #caretaker and whumpee #oc #original story #rough caretaker

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the-golden-comet · 3 months ago

Text

✨💋Friday Kiss/Last Line/ OC Confessions/Writing Share Mega Tag (wew)💋✨

Thank you for tagging me for writing shares, last lines, and OC Confessions @thecomfywriter , @saturnine-saturneight , @davycoquette , @sableglass ,@wyked-ao3 , @fortunatetragedy , @the-letterbox-archives , @theink-stainedfolk , and @drchenquill ! 💛✨

I know it’s still a little early, but it’s Friday somewhere (right? 🤣) Time to SMOOCH (among other tags. Thank you if you have tagged me recently, by the way! I may miss some, but I always appreciate being tagged 💛✨)

Rules: Pick one of these tags (or all, if it applies) ✨to do:

Rules: Post a scene where one of your character's does a confession to another character from your wip. It doesn't have to be a love confession. Maybe it's a lie. Maybe it's a crime. Maybe it's betrayal. Go buckwild, go crazy!

Rules: From your story/WIP, share a kiss. It can be any kiss, from forehead kisses, familial pecks on the cheek, platonic kisses, to full-blown make-outs.

Rules: Post a last line from your story/WIP

Rules: Post a snippet from your writing

Rules: So many rules. So little time 😵‍💫

The Peter Hart confession that covers ALL OF THESE lovely tags. Prepare to melt 🫠

Benji hiccuped as tears fell down to the floorboards. Too emotional for words, he mustered a quick head nod. Peter sighed low, shaking his head. “Oh, Benjamin….why on earth didn’t you tell me?”

The noble shook his head once more. Peter tried again, his tone greatly hurt now, yet soft and unthreatening: “ Benjamin…. ”

Through his gentle sobs, the prince spoke in a cracking voice. “I….I didn’t want my heart to break…..” His lips curled as he tried to bottle his sorrow, but the waves wouldn’t cease. Finally, the onslaught of passionate grief overflowed from his chest to his tear ducts, and down his freckled face.

“Benjamin…..” Peter whispered low and gently.

“…..J-just break my h-heart already…..!” Benji’s crying breath hitched. The amulet was glowing brightly around his trembling bosom, yet the light did not detract the tears.

Peter cupped his hands over Benjamin’s cheeks, wiping the streams away with his thumbs. Tenderly, he tilted the prince’s head up to meet his eyes as he cooed gently down: “You should have told me, Benjamin….because you’d never know that….” He confessed through his own swelling voice. “…..that I feel the same.”

Benjamin’s shining eyes widened in shock. But, before he could let Peter’s words sink in, the captain leaned forward and met their lips. Slowly, sweetly, he kissed Benji as he tried to calm the crying mess of a man in his arms.

The noble’s breath hitched into Peter’s mouth, but he didn’t fight the kiss. Instead, he leaned into it with his whole heart as he finally relinquished his remaining reservation. Giving Hart total control, Benjamin moved his lips and jaw in tandem with the captain. Much like their dancing, he let Peter lead…..and Peter would absolutely take.

I am leaving this as an +open tag for anyone who wants to do one, some, or all of these ✨

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Tag List for writing tidbits (lmk if you want + or -)

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leafs-lover · 8 months ago

Text

Too Far Gone - Part Fifty Six

Warnings: Swearing, fluff, smut - fingering, cum play, dirty talk, maybe a slight voyeurism kink, interrupted sex, inadvertent orgasm deprivation, light degradation? I think that's it, let me know if I missed anything

Series Masterlist

Word Count: 6,000

Auston didn’t know when they went to bed. The curtains had been left open and the faint glow from the moon was filtering in, but he had to make good on that promise from the roof. And even then, he wasn’t done because they were both drenched in sweat, and there is something about warm beads of water cascading over his girlfriend’s chest that always ended with Auston on his knees.

Sure, it could be considered reckless to stay up that late given they have a three-year-old who has been known to barge in before the sun broke the horizon looking for breakfast. But what was Auston supposed to do, not celebrate the fact Tia finally admitted she loved him? They had talked about getting a puppy, having more kids, getting married, they planned their future, but hearing those words roll off her tongue cemented to him that it was real. As if those four years were nothing more than a long and hazy nightmare he finally awoke from.

When Auston did wake up around 9:20, he planned on quietly crawling out of bed, finding Taylour (he knew one of his friends was keeping him entertained for the time being) and wrangling his help to make her breakfast in bed. A simple gesture, one he had been deprived of for so long. It was his plan, and it was a great plan, then he saw the faint marks on her shoulders, the marks he left, and everything changed. All reason was long gone, and his primal instinct took over. If he could keep her there all day, he would.

“Aus.”

Her nails scratch along his broad shoulder and her body arches into him. Even though she is pulsing with oversensitivity, she doesn’t know if she’s had enough, if she ever will have enough.

“Babe –“ She gasps, sharply.

“What?” He grins, moustache tickling her ear.

“We gotta to get up.” He can tell she wants there to be weight behind the words, but her body is saying something completely different. “So much to do…”

“How am I supposed to get anything done when you’re naked in our bed?” Auston murmurs thickly against her jaw.

“I could ask you the same thing.”

The sheets are a mess. Pillows are on the floor. The stench of sex is heavy in the room.

“So...” His hands roam all over her body. He cups her breast, which somehow overflows in his big hands. “What’s on your list this morning?”

“Yoga.”

“Pretty sure we already did that.” Satisfaction curls on his lips.

“I want to finish up something I’ve been working on…” She trails off for a moment as he licks up her neck, tongue following the bite marks left the night before. “Have to check in with Becks…” Auston grins, the heat flaring behind her cheeks says that won’t happen anytime soon.

“What about fucking your boyfriend?” Auston’s fingers carve into the swollen flesh of her ass.

“I believe I did that already.” He moves his fingers around to her pussy lips and the inside of her thighs, and they are wet, absolutely drenched in their hot sticky mess. “That’s why we’re still in bed.”

“You should put it back on the list, maybe twice.” Auston’s mouth slowly begins to work its way down, first to her collarbone, then her breasts. As his warm tongue swirls around her sensitive nipple, her slick grazes over his member and a deep guttural groan erupts.

“Is that so?” She breathes out a laugh while tugging harshly on his curls.

“Yeah.” Two fingers once again find their way inside. Her body arks toward him and within a few seconds they begin to move. The disgusting slurp of her cunt fills the room as he thrusts them faster and faster. Her walls greedily grasp and hug his digits, never wanting to let him go. Her elbows give out and her body collapses into the bed, quickly and desperately clawing at the sheets.

Auston smirks and applies more pressure. His left hand grabs at her knee and tosses it over his shoulder, earning him a shriek from the deepest part of her diaphragm. Auston fucks his fingers back inside. Every stroke is precise, his knuckles crooked at the knuckle to create the perfect angle. “Can’t decide if I want to eat the cum out of you before I fill you back up.” Auston licks his bottom lip, his fingers massaging her g-spot. “Or if I should bury myself inside and make ya overflow…what do you think?”

“Fuck me.” Tia whispers to herself.

Auston chuckles, a little breathless. “I’m going to.” He circles his thumb around her clit, fingers rhythmically seeking her high. “You taste so good, can only dream of what we taste like together.”

Tia whimpers at the emptiness as Auston pulls his fingers out. He brings them up to her mouth, and without instruction Tia drops her jaw and wraps her lips around them. They both moan as she swirls her tongue around his digits, working to clean the mess. Quickly, he snaps his wrist and runs the saliva and cum coated fingers along her jaw. With a cocky brow raise, he shoves his tongue into her mouth.

“Better than I imagined.”

His hand moves to her hair, and she bites at her lower lip. He knows she washed her hair yesterday. He also knows she will scold him for this later. He just doesn’t care. He moves the head of his shaft down through her folds, allowing it to rest at the opening for just a second, then he buries himself deep inside her warmth.

He messily kisses her once again, taking the time to embrace the wetness that oozes out around his cock. He pulls his hips back, and right before he is about to drive back inside, her hands are on his shoulder trying to push him away.

“Stop.” Her eyes snap open, wide with fear. His brows contort with confusion, then he hears it. Little feet pattering down the hall, his playful giggle getting louder and louder with every step. They both knew they were pushing their luck going for round two, but like a moth to a flame, Auston couldn’t pull himself away.

“Taylour, come on bud, let’s go.” Fred’s voice calls, louder than normal trying to warn those on the other side.

The doorknob begins to jiggle. Tia’s breathing becomes frantic . The slow creak gets louder and louder, and Taylour’s voice enters the room. “I want to show them my trick.”

The more the door opens the more Tia’s face whitens. Auston scrambles off her and scours the floor for a shirt, pants, some piece of clothing to toss on before Taylour barrels in. But everything is everywhere, all he can find is the sheet which he tosses toward Tia.

“Mommy and Daddy are sleeping.” Fred tells him, pulling the door shut. “Why don’t we practice more, and you can show them when they wake up?”

“Because practice makes perfect,” Taylour agrees with a nod.

“Right.” Fred nods down the hall. “Let’s go.”

Auston waits a few seconds until Taylour’s feet are down the hall, then calls out, “Thanks Fred.”

“Yup,” Fred hollers through the door.

“I’m not sure about this.” Tia runs her finger along the strap, then smooths over her stomach.

Once they heard the footsteps fade down the hall and the stair boards creak, Auston and Tia were out of bed. Tia ran a comb through her hair while glaring at Auston for the ends that had fused together, then swiftly threw it up on the top of her head. Auston grabbed a bathing suit –because every day ends with them in the pool – and one of his t-shirts. The two of them went downstairs and Tia started making them smoothies, and Auston set out to get the avocado ready for their breakfast. After inhaling their food, Auston was outside, showing off his backflips – always a favourite with Taylour - and Tia was upstairs in her sewing room.

Once the workspace was mostly complete, she finished the couple orders that were outstanding, then set out designing a few new pieces to expand her line. She sketched out seven new pieces, three of them made it through the 3D rendering, then she began the process of cutting fabric, pinning it together and trying to bring her visions to life. One was easy, only needed a few minor tweaks but was now ready to go to the testing phase. The other two she has been stuck on. Nothing seemed to work, and Tia was about ready to scrap them both and start over, but before that she decided to reach out to the one person that might be able to help.

Celeste presses her glasses back up her nose and shuffles in her seat, as if trying to get a better view from Toronto.

“Yeah…” She hims through the speaker. “I see what you were talking about…I think the point near your underarm needs to go up a bit.” Tia turns toward the camera and lifts her arm, then points to the area she assumes Celeste is talking about. “Yeah,” she confirms. “It’s a little…” her face crinkles as she thinks over the next word.

“Aggressive?”

Celeste feigns a laugh. “That may not be the word I’d use…but yes.”

“The prototype looked so good.” Tia sighs. She thought the dress was going to be the easiest to bring to life. But when she tried the top on it sat low, dangerously low, to a point if Tia moved too much everything spilled out. Despite Auston’s objections, she added fabric to the bodice to bring the neckline up, only it came up too much. Next, she cut a bit out but then she didn’t like the neckline, it was too squared off and simple, so she tried to curve it but overcompensated as indents are being left in her skin.

“That’s why we test them out. I can’t tell you how many pieces I thought were good until I tried them on.” Celeste tries to reassure her with a faint laugh, but this part never gets easy. “It’s not that far off, dear.”

“Yeah.” Tia’s nose crinkles again, almost at her wits end with this one.

“What about the top you were working on.” Celeste steers the conversation away, hoping it has better results. “You decide on a sleeve?”

A few days ago, Tia sent Celeste a picture of a satin top with a simple square neck and subtle pleats in the bodice. The hem was unfinished and there were many pins, but what caught her attention was the two distinctly different sleeves styles. One was short and puffy, and the other was a simple and slender arm with a bell style sleeve. Tia said she was unsure of which one worked best. Celeste called it a copout, called her out to doubt herself and said she wasn’t going to help. It might have been tough, but Celeste knew she needed to make this decision on her own.

“Yay!” Celeste claps when she sees the long and flowy sleeve. This was always the right choice; she is glad Tia figured it out on her own.

“I love that one. Definitely the right pick”

“It’s playful but classic.” Tia smiles with her mentor’s reassurance.

“Completely elevates that top. Tia, I know I’ve said this before, but you have a bright future ahead of you, some people are years in the industry without the eye you have.”

“Thanks.” Tia softly laughs, a faint blush swarming her cheeks.

Now that the prototype is complete, it’s ready for Tia to make a few more and ship them back to the “testers” back in Toronto and get their feedback. Then there are the edits, photoshoots, uploading details to the website. Just when she thinks the finish line is near, she realizes just how far it is.

The two of them talked for a little while longer. Celeste told her about all the struggles she’d been facing as a store owner while in a global lockdown. Her store was forced closed, curbside pickup and online orders were slow, some days non-existent. It filled Tia with so many emotions but worry and regret were the ones she couldn’t shake. If someone who had been successful in the industry was struggling at the drop of a hat, what did it mean for her? Sales were slow, to be expected for a new line, but how long could they be slow before they stopped all together?

Tia put the finishing details on the shirt but left the dress on the mannequin. Normally putting it off wouldn’t be an option. It’d eat at her, knowing there was so much to do but not knowing how to fix it. But today as she walked down the hall toward the stairs, she had zero hesitation walking away because something else had consumed her mind.

“Mommy! Mommy!” Taylour screeches when the patio doors open. “Mommy, help!” He giggles mid-air as Auston tosses him to the other end of the pool, a large splash erupts around him and a few seconds later his head pokes through the surface.

“I can’t help you.” Tia chuckles as she shuffled around the pool’s edge, her feet getting kissed by the exploding water.

“Why not?” Taylour flings his arm around and starts moving toward Auston.

“Because every time I help, your dad throws me in the water.”

“Not true.” Auston winks at her.

Tia shakes her head.

“Please mommy!” Taylour squeals as Auston grabs him by the waist and once again launches him in the air.

Tia flips her wrist and glances at the time on her watch - the very expensive watch Auston brought back from the California road trip because he “thought of her when he saw it.” “We actually have to go, Taylour.”

“Nooooo!” He emphatically shakes his head.

“Yup.” Auston moves toward the stairs. The water line slowly descends, more and more of his chest coming on display for Tia to gawk at. As he moves toward the steps, he grabs Taylour and tugs him. “You said you wanted In and Out for lunch, we have to go get it.”

“Why can’t I stay with Uncle Freddie, and you bring it here.” Taylour pouts. He stands on one of the pool steps, half in – half out of the water, hoping to convince Auston to let him stay.

“Because we’re your parents not Uncle Freddie. Uncle Freddie doesn’t have to spend his time watching you.”

“I want to stay with Fweddie.”

“Well, you’re not.” Auston bites sharply, letting his frustration poke through. “You’re coming with Mommy and I.”

“I don’t want to go with you and Mommy,” he huffs, angrily smacking his hands against the water.

“Taylour, you are coming. Get out of the pool and get dressed, now.” Auston demands, but Tia catches the inflection in his voice and the smirk curving his lips.

“But why?” He raises his voice, becoming more frustrated with Auston’s unusual stern nature. Tia knew it wasn’t going to be easy getting her son from the pool, it never was.

“Because I said so.” Auston barks. “Keep it up and you won’t get to swim for the rest of the week.”

Taylour releases a loud and dramatic groan, then once again smacks his hands against the water. He stomps past Auston, grumbling under his breath, and goes right to Tia who has a warm fluffy towel waiting for him. Having lost the battle with his father, Taylour sets his sights on Tia, hoping for a different response.

“I don’t want to go, Mommy.” Taylour whined softly while he nestled his head to the crook of her neck. She hears the broken exhale and knows tears are on the way – he doesn’t handle Auston’s frustrations well - she just doesn’t know if they are real or fake.

“I know.” Tia kneels and starts rubbing her hands over his back, drying him off while softly comforting him. She gently tilts his head, and swats at the tears clinging to the corner of his eyes. “You have to come with us, sweetie.”

“Why?” Taylour sniffles, barely choking back the lump in his throat.

“Because we have a surprise for you.” Auston cards his hand through Taylour’s drenched curls and grabs his own towel.

“A surprise?!” He immediately perks up, his eyes widen and dart up to Auston. “What is it?”

“Wouldn’t be a surprise if we told you, silly.” Tia playfully boops his nose.

As if the last thirty seconds never happened, Taylour immediately takes off toward the sliding door and gives it a firm tug to drag it open. He runs inside too excited to close the door behind him, then scurries across the hardwood.

“No running on the stairs!” Auston yells after him, but he is too late, Taylour is at the top of the stairs, slipping on the hardwood as he sprints past the railing that overlooks the living room.

“What did we get ourselves into?” Tia jokingly whines when Taylour lets out an “ooh” as he uses his palms to catch himself from falling.

Auston wraps his painted arm around Tia, over her shoulder. Tia brings her hand up and grabs his, then leans against his hard chest. Little drops of water land on her shoulder and in her hair. In an almost scarily still tone he whispers, “you’re going to miss this level of calm.” The worst part is, he is right.

Like most car rides, Taylour quickly became impatient. It wasn’t long after he finished his cheeseburger and shake before the “where are we going,” “how much longer” and “are we there yet” started. They knew the almost hour drive would be long, and planned for it, but no amount of movies, superhero action figures, colouring books would be enough, when all he wanted was to do was swim.

“Mommy, I’m bored.” He whines and dramatically throws his head back against the car seat. He tosses the tablet, and it lands on the floor, bouncing on impact.

Auston huffs out a dry laugh. Like Taylour, his patience is wearing thin. “Wouldn’t be if you watched the movie.”

“I don’t want to watch the movie anymore.” Taylour promptly informs him. His feet kick against the car seat and he dramatically sighs, again.

“We’re almost there, Tay.” Tia turns in her seat and silently laughs at his outfit choice. He insisted on getting ready himself and his shoes are on the wrong feet, his shirt must have come from the laundry given the ketchup stain on the chest, and his shorts are bright neon yellow. The fashion designer in her cringes but as a mom, she is thrilled that he is dressed, and understands that some battles aren’t worth it.

“How many minutes?”

“Less than five.” She picks up the tablet and pauses the movie, then puts it in her bag.

“That’s too long.” Taylour kicks his legs out in a frustrated fit.

“Of course, it is.” Auston mutters sarcastically, his knuckles whitening around the steering wheel.

Tia snaps her head to Auston, and she gives him a look, one he hasn’t seen often but immediately recognizes. “I promise, you’re going to love your surprise.”

They continue driving down the quiet rural road, slowly maneuvering turns. Whatever playlist Auston selected is quiet, so quiet the only sound is the air conditioning whirring through the vents and the rhythmic beeping of the blinker. Tia presses her head against the window and watches the dust kick out from under the tires.

“We’re here.” Auston announces once the vehicle is parked in front of a large farmhouse.

Taylour perks up and tries to sit up in his seat as much as possible. He takes in the surroundings, a blue house with a simple white fence, not distinguishing or exciting for an almost four-year old.

“What are we doing here?” He asks, not hiding the disgruntled look on his face.

“This is a boring surprise, Daddy.”

“You sure about that?” Taylour freed himself from the car seat, and when Auston opens the door, he is quick to leap out.

“Yeah.” He crinkles his nose and closes the car door behind him. “There is no slide or pool, nothing fun.”

Tia hears small overlapping barks and yips coming from inside the home, her heart flutters. She has been waiting for this day her entire life.

Gravel crunches under her feet as she strolled around the car. She crouches down and puts her hand on her knees, bringing herself to Taylour’s eye level. She adjusts his ball cap over his curls then smiles. “Would it still be a bad surprise if we told you there were puppies inside?”

His brown eyes glow. “I want to see the puppies!” He blurts out.

Auston crouches down and smiles, almost bigger than Taylour. “What if we told you; we’re going to bring one home?”

“MY OWN PUPPY!” Taylour screams while jumping in the air.

“A family puppy.” Auston corrects him.

“I’M GETTING A PUPPY!” He shrieks, unphased by what Auston told him.

Auston knew he would be excited when he found out. He assumed there would be jumping and screaming, thought there was the possibility of joyful tears. What he didn’t count on was Taylour being so excited he’d sprint past them toward the front door without another word.

Knock. Knock. Knock. Taylour pounds on the door as hard as he can. “I’m here for my puppy!” Knock. Knock. Knock.

Auston and Tia had barely made it two steps before the door creaks open, a middle-aged woman stands on the other side.

“Hello.” She smiles to Taylour, then to Auston and Tia.

Taylour bounces on his heels, even though they can’t see his face they know he is beaming from ear to ear. “Hi, my name’s Taylour. I’m here for my puppy.”

“Taylour, you can’t just – “

“It’s fine.” She laughs, Taylour isn’t the first child to react this way. She moves to the side to let him pass then waits for Tia and Auston to make their way up the porch.

“Sorry, he has wanted a puppy since before he could walk.”

The three of them hear Taylour squeal as an overlapping chorus of barks and whines echo down the hall.

“No apologies needed.” They all step inside and see Taylour standing on the outside of the fenced in area. He is leaning as far as he can without losing his balance, scratching the tops of the puppies’ heads, giggling the entire time. “I’m Sandra, and that,” she eyes over to the full-size Bernese Mountain dog who is across from Taylour keeping a watchful eye on her pups, “is Stella the mom.” Shortly after a white poodle rounds the corner and walks right up to Auston, nudging his hand for some pets. “This suck is Teddy.”

“Hiya Teddy.” Auston bends down and is instantly met with a lick to the cheek.

“Which one is mine?” Taylour’s head is on a swivel. This puppy. That puppy. That puppy. He can barely keep up.

“We have to pick it.” Auston tells him.

“You can go in.” Sandra offers, motioning to the pen.

Auston and Tia step over the gate, then Auston hooks his arms under Taylour’s armpits to hoist him over. The three of them fall to the floor, immediately being swarmed by the puppies.

“Mommy!” Taylour giggles as one with a pink ribbon licks his cheek. “Mommy, I want this one.”

“Yeah?” She grins, gently scratching behind the ear.

“Any with a ribbon have a home already,” Sandra tells them. “They’ve all had their first round of shots and will be ready for the next one in about two weeks.”

“Daddy, look!” Taylour nods to his foot, where one is gnawing on his sock, attempting to pull it off.

“This one’s trouble huh?” Auston scoops up the black and white ball of fur, taking Taylour’s sock with him, then cradles it in his arms.

“He’s silly.” Taylour broadcasts, trying to yank the sock out of its mouth.

When the puppy keeps his jaw tightly clenched around Taylour’s sock, he sets the puppy on his lap to the ground and crawls over to Auston. He pets along its side with one hand, his other tugging on the sock, laughing the entire time. Finally, the puppy releases the sock only to start chewing at Auston’s wrist.

“I want this one.” Taylour gives it a kiss.

“Really? What about this one?” Tia eyes to the one curled in her lap, eyes getting heavy.

Taylour takes a second to glance between the two dogs, pondering Tia’s suggestion. She obviously knows just because a dog is calm now doesn’t mean it always will be, but something, most likely her motherly instinct is telling her not to pick the one already biting.

“Uhmmm.” He ponders. Taylour scoots closer to Tia to look at the puppy in her lap. “Ohh, this one is cute too, Mommy!”

“Mhm.”

Taylour’s eyes rapidly dart between the two dogs, and he appears deep in thought, but they both know he has zero selection criteria. A twinkle catches his eye, and his entire face somehow lights up even more.

“Can I have both puppies?”

“No.” Tia is very fast to answer.

“Puh-lease!” He turns to Auston. His move always is to try the other parent with hopes for a better outcome. “Please can I get two puppies, Daddy?”

Auston looks to Taylour, then to the puppy curled up in Tia’s arms sleeping, then to the one nibling at his wrist, and sighs. “I don’t think –“

“Please, Daddy! They can play together.” He eagerly cuts him off, desperately trying to bring home two dogs.

“Then who will you play with?” Tia can see the way Auston’s face is softening and knows she will have to be the one to shut this down.

“I’ll play with them, we’ll be best friends, all three of us!”

“I think we only need one dog for now.” Auston says dimly, but Tia knows if she wasn’t here to supervise, Auston would be bringing two dog’s home.

“No!” Taylour carefully climbs over the puppies and their toys to get to Auston and wraps his arms tightly around his neck. “We need two puppies, Daddy!”

Auston makes the mistake of looking at Taylour and sees the large pout and beady eyes, a cuteness barely rivalled by the puppy in his lap. Taylour falls to his knees and gets directly into Auston’s sightline. He puts his hands together as if he is praying, and desperately pleads with a croak in his voice. “Please can we get two, Daddy? Pleeeeease?”

Auston hates how his son knows exactly what to say and how to say it to make him forget all reason.

“Tay,” Auston sighs and prepares himself for the heartbreak, but he knows Taylour will get over it faster than Tia’s frustration if he gives in. “Just one.”

There is a groan that develops deep in his stomach as his shoulders drop. “No fair.”

“Look at how cute this little guy is though.”

Auston holds the wiggly puppy a little higher and hands it to Taylour. An excited yip comes from the puppy and a smile begins to creep its way back to Taylour’s face. “He is cute, Daddy.”

Auston reaches over and grabs a small stuffed pig and gives it to the puppy who wraps his mouth around it and starts whipping its head from side to side. “I want this one.” Taylour informs them without an ounce of hesitation.

Auston and Tia left Taylour with the puppies and found Sandra in the kitchen. They went over the paperwork and fine details. She gave them a bag with some food, a small blanket, along with a binder full of health information and veterinary records.

By the time they wandered back to the living room a few minutes later, Taylour had forgotten about his desire to bring home two. He was on his knees, heels digging into the back of his thighs, squeaking the pig in an attempt to engage the puppy.

“You two ready?” Tia walks to the edge of the puppy fencing, Auston’s hand on her back.

“Mhm.” Taylour enthusiastically nods. He stands up and Auston bends down to help him over then scoops up their puppy. “Thank you for my puppy!” Taylour addresses Sandra while making a beeline for the door.

Once Taylour was in the car, which was a task, he demanded the dog sit with him. Tia was a little uneasy about leaving them alone in the back, she had a feeling she should sit with them, just in case the puppy fell or wandered away and somehow found his way under a seat, but Auston assured her everything would be fine. He could tell she was anxious, so he reached over the console and laced his fingers with hers, then brought it to her lips and placed kisses on the back of her hand, knowing that would bring her to ease.

“What should we name him?” Auston asks as they sit at a red light, the steady sound of the blinker being drowned by the noise coming from the backseat.

“Rex.” Taylour proudly proclaims.

“Rex?” Auston probes with a laugh. The suggestion undoubtedly comes from the recent viewing of Toy Story. “I don’t know if that suits him.”

“Pickles!” He cheers from the back seat.”

“Pickles?” Tia shakes her head; she knew letting the almost-four-year-old name the dog would be a terrible idea. “What about Bernie?” She suggests in reference to its breed.

“No.” They simultaneously protest.

“How about Felix?” Auston pipes up. He doesn’t know why but the second he held him, that name felt right and it’s hard for him to imagine the dog as anything else.

“Yes!” Taylour promptly agrees. “I like that!”

Auston kept his hand linked with hers over the console as he drove the quiet Scottsdale streets. His eyes were mostly on the road, but he couldn’t help glancing in the rearview every chance he got, spending red lights turned around staring at Taylour and Felix.

The next few hours were somewhat of a blur. Taylour was eager to show Felix to Trevor and Fred. He had to FaceTime Mitch, Becks, Emily and Max,Sarah and Charlie, every person he knew. He never wanted to leave Felix, even tried getting him to come to the bathroom with him. He would lay on the floor beside him while he napped, pull him into his arms for pets, dangle a toy over his head, or run around in the yard, trying to get him to follow. Felix was a little overwhelmed at times, often quiet and reserved, unsure about the toys and people around him, but that didn’t stop Taylour. He was determined to be that pup’s best friend no matter what.

Auston found Tia in the kitchen checking her e-mail. Some Disney movie Taylour long ago lost interest in plays in the background, he uses the noise to sneak up in front of her. He presses himself into her and chuckles when she jumps.

Droplets of water fall from his hair and splatter on her shoulder, the towel that hangs loosely over his hips rubs against her thigh.

“He’s so happy.” Auston places a gentle kiss on her temple.

She peers out the glass doors to Taylour who is sitting on a lounger with Felix in his lap. She doesn’t know what he is saying, but he constantly laughs and places kisses to his head. Her heart is about to explode. She lets out a contentious sigh and rests her arms on his shoulders, aimlessly fiddling with the metal wrapped around his neck. “I’m so happy we did this.”

“Me too.” Auston tugs at her pony and tilts her head back, then places a kiss on her lips. “I love you, babe.”

“I love you, too.”

Tia is expecting another kiss on her lips, only Auston ducks down and starts sucking along her neck.

“Auston.” She tries to scold him, only to shriek when he grabs a handful of ass from under her damp bathing suit.

“I want to kiss my girlfriend without a little parrot announcing it.”

“I know.” Tia sighs, because he has been announcing it - six times so far. “But we should go to our boys.”

Our boys.

Auston loves the way that sounds and even though it’s only been a couple hours he can’t wait until their family grows even more.

“They’re fine, Fred and Trevor have it under control. “Besides, you have a boy here who needs you.” He rolls her hips over his slowly growing erection and carves his nails into her flesh.

“Auston.” She playfully swats at his chest, letting out a breathy laugh.

“I told you to add fucking me to your list of things to do today,” he growls.

His fingers trail over her skin, pricked with goosebumps, until they find the bows that are holding up the barely-there bikini bottoms. His fingers tangle in and he begins to tug, loosening the knot.

“It’s like 4 pm.” It’s a futile attempt. They both know it.

Having heard no reason to stop, Auston quickly hoists her onto the counter. The towel drops to the floor as he presses her knees apart. He gently teases his fingertips past the seam of her lips, sending a ripple of goosebumps up her spine.

She wants to give in.

She can’t help it.

She spent too much time without him, her heart (among other things) physically ached for him and his touch. She never wants to be without it again, never wants to crave his physical touch like she did.

Following the hitch in her breath, two fingers slide inside, and are greedily welcomed by her heat. She arches toward his electric touch and his mouth moves toward the sweet spot below her ear.

It barely takes two minutes before a slew of curse words roll off Tia’s tongue. The air between them gets sticky and Auston licks up her neck. She can see the bulge beneath his bathing suit, rapidly swelling as he continues to stroke her inner walls. Through the pleasureful haze Tia barely manages to get her fingers under the waist band.

“Such a good girl, aren’t you?” Auston purrs against her neck, teeth nipping at her warm skin. Pressure builds inside her – everywhere – as Auston pets her silky inner walls. “I’m gonna bend you over this counter.” Auston’s breath is hot and heavy against her skin, fanning over her in hypnotic waves. “Kitchen’s gonna be so dirty we’ll need a hazmat team.”

Tia shudders. Her cheeks colour pink.

She wraps a leg around his hip and pulls him close. His left hand immediately finds her thigh and runs up and down. Fingerprints are left on her hips; bright red scratch marks decorate his shoulders. He’s hungry and he won’t stop until he’s had his fill of her.

“That’s what you want, right?” All thoughts disappear from her mind when his thumb starts caressing her swollen clit. Every part of her is consumed by him, and she struggles to even breathe. “To use my cock to christen this place, huh?” Her breasts bounce following every thrust, threatening to spill out of the stringy bikini top any moment. Little butterflies dance in her belly. She is barely keeping it together and Auston can tell. “M’gonna fuck you so hard a black light will break in here.”

“Mngh.” Tia chokes out, as if her tongue is glued to the top of her mouth.

“Let my friends hear.” Auston encourages her. He spits in his hand then it disappears, slathering his cock in saliva. She shudders when his warm erection nudges against her throbbing clit. “Cum baby. Show them how good I make you feel.”

Auston kneads at her fraying nerve as his breath gets hotter and heavier against her skin. They are so absorbed by the coil tightening in her belly, her release building and building -

“AUSTON!” Ema howls, absolutely horrified.

Nothing would get Auston to stop. Nothing, except his mother would get him to stop.

Taglist: If you are in this list you have expressed interest in the series (either through likes/reblogs or by asking). If it’s crossed out your tag didn’t work. If you would like to be removed or added to the list send me an ask:

@youtxbemusic@nicoleloveshockey@emsully2002 @hockeypuckspottspot @ashleymarine@albal321@b34ut1fulb4st4rds@biznastysloneshift12@burkylover@c-tangerine@canadian-girl87@crazzyfann @dana-hqy @delighttfulll@evawest5@every-beautifulthing-thereis@greendragonzz@heatherawoowoo@hockeybabe87@hockeyinaussie@hockeyisit@hockeypuckedmeup@je-ne-regrette-rien@jakekisska@partypoison00 @princesscameston @puccbunni @queenmarvel21 @sixmapleleafs@starswin@trashforbarzal@0kikina0@1-fuzzy-squirrels@janeydeaux@stuff4me2do@callsign-denmark @monnbc @simpgirl-lat@huneyjojo221 @idfan21 @elly-dx@samanthasgone@holyalfalfasprout@lwstuff @mattyzmarner @ashloveshockey

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katerinaaqu · 7 months ago

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Continuing from Part 2

Guilt (P3 + Footnotes)

"Odysseus" Meriones approached him, "Are you alright?"

Odysseus winced in pain. He hadn't realized he had clenched his fist so hard that it hurt him. He unclenched it.

"Yes..." he whispered, "Yes, I'm fine..."

Odysseus moaned. That baby...the look at that infant's face...Astyanax was gone...he had given his place to Telemachus. Priam's slain face was Laërtes...mourning Andromache was his wife... He grasped his head with both hands.

"Damn you Neoptolemus! Damn you Helen for starting it! Damn you Menelaus for dragging me into this... Damn you Palamedes! Damn you all! Why should I have taken this blood upon me?! Why did it have to be me?!"

He sighed.

"Polites...I want to be alone for a little while..."

"Do you think that is wise...?" Polites asked with hidden meaning.

"Wise!" Odysseus voiced like an echo, "No, perhaps not but I got tired of being wise for now..."

Polites sighed.

"At least add some water to your wine...please Odysseus"

Odysseus dismissed him with a move of his hand. He wasn't much in the mood for anything at that moment. He knew war wouldn't be pleasant but these events of just one night were taking the cake. He was exhausted; sleepless for two nights and a full day and right now the Sacker of Cities, the Man of Many Ways was terrified. He collapsed again and his tears overflowed from his eyes, wetting the table below. He grasped his wet hair with his fingers as if he was ready to uproot them.

"Gods! Please Athena, please, I beg of you...if you love me...p-protect my son! Let the miasma fall on me! Not him! I-I...I just wanted to g-go home! I just wanted to see them again...my Penelope...my Telemachus...! I-I never meant for this to happen! P-Please...! I beg of you if you love me...p-protect my son! Don't let the gods' wrath fall upon their heads! P-Please...! F-Forgive me! I...I just...I just wanted to go home!"

He couldn't decide what to pray for first... Words cascaded out of his mouth without any coherent way or syntax. He only prayed desperately, wetting with his tears the table. Sun was already setting and Troy was taken...but at what cost...

Menelaus and Agamemnon entered Odysseus's hut one after the other.

"I gotta give it to you, Odysseus!" Agamemnon said, "You WERE telling the truth when you said you could take Troy in one night!"

Odysseus was collapsed upon his chair, looking at them with an unreadable expression to his face. The jug was resting empty somewhere after the feet of his seat.

"Hm..." he hummed, "That's me. I am the trickster, remember? I lie, I scheme and I trick. That is what I do"

Agamemnon raised a brow.

"Are you drunk?!" He asked in disbelief

"One more shame to add to the events of this night..." Odysseus replied bitterly.

"Shame? I do not understand. We finally sacked the city. You can finally go home."

"Home..." Odysseus whispered, "I wonder...what shall I say to Penelope when she asks? Or Telemachus? If he asks 'father what did you do and you were away?', 'I was at war, my son', 'did you fight honorably and sack many cities?'... What shall I say for what we've done...?"

"I do not understand you Odysseus. It was your idea"

"Yeah somehow I do not doubt it..." Odysseus mumbled bitterly, "I was wrong, Agamemnon. This was not what I imagined...what I planned..."

He sighed shifting his position a bit to his chair.

"Priam is dead, you know that..."

"Yeah, like we expected to-..."

"On the altar. On the freaking altar, Agamemnon..."

"Yeah I heard..."

"Imagine that happening to any of us...in our homelands. If one cannot respect the holy laws then what?"

He played a bit with his empty cup.

"Priam murdered on the altar...Cassandra raped mercilessly and now Ajax looks for shelter to the very same altar he dragged her out of, to avoid being stoned to death..." the king of Ithaca rubbed the bridge of his nose, "...death...death and fire everywhere..."

"Odysseus..." spoke Menelaus, "I understand that you are grieving, it was not easy or pleasant but..."

"The boy...he was the same age as my son! Thrown off the wall..."

"Odysseus" Agamemnon spoke again, "I honestly don't understand you. Others would fly from joy with your glory. You had a good plan and it worked. Thanks to you we can all go home."

Odysseus's eyes became bottomless. Even Agamemnon had to lower his gaze against it.

"The blasphemy put us under the anger of gods, Agamemnon. Remember that. Listen..."

Agamemnon seemed like indeed trying to listen something.

"The Trojans are not the only ones mourning. We lost many good men too. We lost Achilles. Or have you forgotten?"

Agamemnon sighed deeply.

"His loss...was tragic indeed" he finally said, "we had our differences but his loss was a great price..."

"Quite so..." Odysseus whispered, "was it really worth it? The price we had to pay to sack Troy?"

He shifted his weight to his chair lethargically. He rubbed his forehead with his free hand for a second. The dizziness bad settled for real in his brain. He leaned his head back again, earning a small cracking sound from his neck.

"And since we are at it, I have a question for you, Agamemnon, son of Atreus, the first among the Greeks... What did the Trojans REALLY do to us to deserve such an end?"

"You're drunk! You don't know what you're talking about!"

Odysseus snorted humorlessly.

"Oh, I am drunk, alright. But I know exactly what I am talking about. And you do too. They took Helen, sure, or at least one of them did. But their real crime against us was that they protected their lands...from us. That's what we would have done as well..."

Agamemnon was ready to speak again but Menelaus stopped him.

"Brother, that's enough"

He then turned ti Odysseus sympathetically.

"Look, Odysseus, I understand that it hurts and I am sorry too that I put you through that indirectly, but please do not melt away. No matter what the actions of others was not your choice."

Odysseus said nothing. He only sighed.

"Will you join us at the games later? You are the hero of the day. Your presence is asked for."

Odysseus scoffed.

"Oh I will be there, alright. I never miss a good party!"

Menelaus smiled sadly.

"Thank you, Odysseus...for everything. I really mean it... I will see you later, when you sober up a little..."

He looked at his friend and added;

"And...we shall mention none...of this" he pointed at him indicating his condition.

Odysseus soullessly nodded as if wanting to attempt some humor.

"Thanks...I appreciate it"

Agamemnon was ready to say something but apparently he decided against it. He only sighed and turned to leave before finally asking;

"Will you come to take a pick from the spoils? You deserve it given it was thanks to you we got in"

The tired king made a dismissive move with his hand.

"No. I'm fine with whatever. Just include me to the next lottery" he replied indifferently

"Are you sure? You deserve a better share"

Odysseus smiled humorlessly.

"Last time I chose and defended my choice, we lost Aias the Telamonian. I think we lost enough for one decade, don't you think?"

It was a failure of attempt for humor and he knew it but Agamemnon only sighed.

"Suit yourself" he said defeated, heading for the exit

Menelaus was about to do the same but apparently something made him stop and turn around.

"Odysseus?"

"Hm?"

"Thank you...truly... You gave me back my honor

Odysseus snorted again.

"With the cost of mine..." he whispered bitterly, "Not that anyone ever thought I had any..."

The king of Sparta, though, shook his head negatively.

"To me you will always be the greatest of all Greeks"

The man who endured all torments looked up and for the first tike a small smile rose to his dry lips. That word of kindness was what he needed for his tormented heart to feel some sort of hope. At least there was finally one who neither blamed him nor glorified him. Menelaus saw his torment and responded. That was enough.

"Thank you..." he whispered

Menelaus nodded his head in return.

"Now rest, my friend. We have a long way before us...we are going home..."

Home...the tormented king of Ithaca thought. Yes, finally they could go home. After 10 endless years they could finally embrace their families. Just few more months of journey and Odysseus could finally go home... All he had to do was to learn to live with what he did... He watched both the kings through his cloudy vision, getting out of his tent and Polites coming back in.

"I am sorry, Odysseus! I couldn't stop them!"

Odysseus dismissed him with a hand gesture once more.

"Don't sweat it, Polites. Stopping a king seems impossible. Gods help us with two!"

Polites smiled softly. At least he would gain some of his humor back, he thought.

"Help me get to my bed, Polites..." sighed Odysseus hoarsely, "I need to rest... I am very tired..."

~~~~

Oh gosh what have I done?! Hehehehe well not sorry...not really! 😆 I hope you enjoyed this ride.

As you see I tried incorporating some of the Epic Cycle to the situation but I did tamper around with the timeliness. The Epic Cycle is a lovely mess anyways and holds many contradictions with the homeric poems but it includes many things.

Now the fragmentary poem Iliou Persis is sven mentioned how Odysseus throws Astyanax off the walls but most sources have Neoptolemus donit and I do agree with those more. Now in Trojan Women by Eurypedes the messenger Talthybius tells Andromache that Odysseus schemed so that her son would be thrown off the walls and that he persuaded the Greeks they couldn't raise the baby. Odysseus doesn't strike much as a baby killer in Odyssey or even the Iliad although he is known for being cruel in his punishments (see the excecution of the 50 conspiring slave girls) but nowhere jn Odyssey does Odysseus refer to that fact even if he does speak of his regrets for other actions of his and if he HAD thrown Astyanax off the walls himself I doubt he wouldn't have made any reference to it so I believe that Iliou Persis should he treated like Telegony when it comes to the homeric poems; a bit contradictory to the homeric epics (unless there is some lost fragment that tells us how Odysseus went on a rampage he could not remember lol 😆 ) so I made a mixture of all the above to show how Odysseus "killed" Astyanax or subconsciously persuaded the Greeks to do it and I added the role of Talthybius here too.

Iliou Persis seems to also be the most violent form when it comes to the Greek side such as that they offer Priam's daughter Polyxene to Achilles's tomb as a sacrifice, thus causing the rage of Athena (I swear the thing was written by a Trojan lol 😆) Eurypedes mentions how Polyxene was offered as slave to Achilles symbolically so she should serve his tomb. I also added the detail of Odysseus trying to persuade Neoptolemus to choose her as his price to speak Andromache but his attempts are a failure.

Drunkenness was severely discouraged in ancient geeece thus the concern in Polites's words when Odysseus uses it as a coping mechanism for the traumatic events of the night. Moreover the Greeks always mixed their wine with water (thus having the modern name for wine in Greek κρασί which comes from the verb in ancient greek which means "to mix") the wine that was not watered was called άκρατον and it was qlmost never consumed unless dipped in bread. The analogy between wine and water depended.

In this story I depict Neoptolemus as somehow a nemesis to Odysseus. Similar to what Agamemnon or Hector were for Achilles. I have no idea why but the idea stuck with me especially since the two are the two candidates for the murder of Astyanax. Somehow I imagined them again as the polar opposites thus the two of them having tension.

Odysseus mentions Thersites who was beaten really badly by him in the Iliad. In other sources it is mentioned that Odysseus has him stoned to death after Theraites attempts treason. In this story Thersites was already dead.

I know that for Palamedes the most famous version of his end comes from Hygenius who writes how Odysseus frames him for treason. However Pausanias mentions from the Epic Cycle that Palamedes drowned at a fishing expedition and that "he believes the murderers were Odysseus and Diomedes". 🤔 somehow I wanted to use a lesser known version plus give a bit room to doubt for instance did Palamedes really fell by accident and Odysseus is guilty for not helping? Or perhaps Odysseus pushed him? Maybe he held him under? Dunno. Leave it to your imagination. I know is not so spicy as the framing story but bare with me hehehe

Talthybius here simply hears "it was Odysseus who planned it" thus sending that information yo Andromache without the rest of the details..

Astyanax uttering a word was totally random. If he were an infant a few months old or almost a year old in Iliad that means he would be around 1 to 1.5 years old when Troy fell so I thought it would be more impactful if the poor baby uttered a word before his end.

The interaction with Andromache was placed there for the dramatics and the impact. When Andromache screams "MY BOY!" I was inspired by the series "The Tudors" when Anne Boleyn laments her final miscarriage (by the way I think Natalie Dormer would make an amazing Andromache!)

The story with Palamedes was also added to make the connection between two mothers and their impact to Odysseus. Plus I thought it would make more sense if Odysseus was furious not only for being embarrassed or that he has to go to war but because Palamedes put his son in danger. (Of course Penelope would be part of that scheme!)

Odysseus refusing to participate at the choice of spoils was just a random detail but as a general rule from Eurypedes it seems that he eats the old Ekavi (Hecuba) as his slave (probably she would be to serve Penelope( so I imagined Odysseus wouldn't want to choose but getting whatever would be lucky for him to further implicate that he wouldn't want anything further to do with the war. He also mentions the incident when Telamonian Aias (aka the great Ajax) went mad when Odysseus won Achilles's armor from him and then he killed himself in shame.

I also wanted to portray the friendship between Menelaus and Odysseus which seems to be really strong since Menelaus always talks with the warmest words for Odysseus.

For further questions and analysis please ask me to the comment section or reblog etc!

I wanna also tag some of my best friends commenters rebloggers etc! Thank you guys! Sorry if I forget anyone!

@loco-bird @aaronofithaca05 @tunguszka20 @doob-or-something @jarondont @prompted-wordsmith @simugeuge @fangirlofallthefanthings

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ams-puppy · 1 month ago

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some questions people asked on pinterest! the world is so beautiful

there are reasons for each answer + added analysis below >.< (please read if u don't like the torture one. please j have my REASONS PLE)

Torture:

Nuanced answer. See, it was important to put my analysis aside and realize that AM himself would probably chalk up his favorite activities to human suffering so he can carry out his revenge on the species that abused him.

Am I satisfied with this answer? No, but it's the kind of answer AM would give, and AM does not always give satisfying answers.

Reasonably, I don't think that AM's "favorite activity" is torture. It's not that simple, unfortunately. I don't think he has a favorite activity, and if he did, it would be the bliss of shutting off entirely. Which he can't do.

In regards to torture, I think he likes that he's... almost winning...? He's got power over them, sure, but it isn't like he'll ever win. This was a losing battle for AM since he was born. He needs human interaction. Do his human survivors need him naturally? No. He has to make them need him. Does he need them naturally? Yes. And, naturally, he'll always be left alone. He'll outlive everything and everyone. The moment his toys die, he loses. It's just him. Just him and the burning, torturous, obvious need in him that aches for human contact to give him reason, to give him input, to give him purpose.

If I was that dependent on humans, I'd also just chalk it up to "Oh yeah I actually keep them alive because I just really like torturing them. yeah actually. no it isn't because I'm afraid of being alone forever while simultaneously being so angry and jealous that I need to punish them. why would you suggest that???? Anyway"

Coffee:

I discussed this one on pinterest a little, but this one took me for a little loop. At first, I took AM as the kind of guy who would want the best of the best. Jamaican blue mountain coffee. If he can have a choice, obviously he'd pick the best.

But I stepped back from that thought process. I do believe he would pick the best of the best, yes, if he had already gotten used to having mundane things.

(igh. Come on izzy . think. use that brain of yours)

So I immediately put that thought process aside and realized that if he could have coffee at all, he'd go for the common people's coffee. He'd grab a shitty Dixie coffee cup and have a pot of cheap office coffee. And he'd savor it like no one has ever savored shitty coffee because that is real coffee. That is the human experience. This is the coffee humans have. The free stuff, the cheap stuff, the common stuff. And he could feel like he belongs.

But they asked what his favorite coffee would be, not for an analysis.

The next thing over was picking a specific type of coffee that was common, shitty, but also a treat. I think he'd love to experience that overflow of artificial sweetness and way too much sugar that plenty of people enjoy in spite of knowing it is not good for our health!!!!!! Caramel macchiato... very popular drink, blasted with sugar, and I have some odd predisposition that makes me inclined to say that he'd be excited to try caramel. Caramel is sticky and childish. It might be nice to get a taste of that joy!!!

#ihnmaims analysis #i have no mouth and i must scream #ihnmaims #am ihnmaims #am i have no mouth and i must scream #odi et amo #f/o community #objectum #selfship #izzy's miscellaneous am posts #character analysis #analysis #am analysis #izzy's scribbles!#artists on tumblr #pinterest #allied mastercomputer #f/o x s/i #q&a

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alchemie-tarot · 2 years ago

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A Love Letter For You

Happy Valentine’s Day! The soft romantic in me has been waiting for such an opportune time 💌🌹💐🍫 For all my champions of self-love out there, focusing on themselves, I just want to remind you that you can go on your healing journey and still have someone special in your life. Doesn’t have to be romance. Any kind of love boils down to connection.

Feel free to choose a pile/s that calls out to you. Some details may not resonate since this is a general reading. As always, nothing is set in stone, so please don’t take it too seriously. Go on, love. 💝

Note: I take way too many pictures of flowers I see on trips.

Pile 1

The Lovers (back of the deck), 2 of Wands, The Empress, The Tower

Okay, WOW, what cards to begin with for a love letter! Big time SOULMATE energy. The Lovers already peeked at me twice before I officially started to shuffle. Whoever this is, they want to reach out to you badly. Bonus: my neighbors started to sing Valentine by Jim Brickman on karaoke while I was interpreting. PLEASEEE.)

“My love,

You are so beautiful to me. The moment our eyes meet, I can’t help but see stars in the best way– I am struck with an overflowing affection for you. Your gaze draws me in and humbles me at the same time. I love looking at you, at your face and your body. I like taking in every single inch of you, filling my vision with only you. Being with you inspires me. You’re radiant and you have so much going on for you. You can make me appreciate any small, insignificant thing about our world.

You may have felt some distance between us as of late. I do not mean to stay away from you– in fact, I want to be closer to you, but taking a step back is my way of looking at things clearly and objectively. The truth is, my feelings for you are so strong, it terrifies me. I want to sweep you off your feet. That is why right now, I am gathering my confidence and coming up with a plan to impress you. It may sound corny, but I really want to shake your world, the same way you have to mine.

You’re my queen / king. My all-or-nothing. You and I have so much potential, my love. I apologize if I appear indecisive to you. There are things about myself I need to conquer first before I can fully offer myself to you. I don’t want anything false to stand in the way– I want to unite with you in the barest of both our truths so that we can stand the test of time.

I will make my choice soon, and I will let you know. I hope you can wait for me.

Your soulmate”

Pile 2

The Sun (back of the deck), 10 of Cups, Knight of Cups, 4 of Swords

Honestly, can it get any more romantic than this? Pile 2, this letter is from your happy pill. I feel that this is the pile for those who have gotten together recently–honeymoon vibes. For a few, you could already be engaged to this person, actually, or someone you’re in a warm and stable long-term relationship with. The emotions are strong without a doubt. Lovely intuitive energy.

“Darling,

The sun has never shone so brightly than when we’re together. I began to see and appreciate the world once you have stepped into it and made it colorful with your sheer presence. Honestly, I feel like a child, seeing everything with fresh eyes. I’m convinced that you’re the other half of my heart that completes me, at the same time you make me see myself as my own kind of whole, like I’m invincible. I picture paradise with your face and beautiful eyes in my mind.

Romancing you is my favorite thing to do. Whoever said that chivalry is dead? I admit, I’m not usually one to get out of my way to make moves, until you. The garden of my imagination grows whenever I think of ways to make you laugh. It’s a wonder that you give me feelings I’ve never had before, yet these emotions flow surely, delicately, in a river that only leads to you.

Now, however, my dear, I feel that we should not rush and slow down a little. As much as I want to be in everlasting bliss with you, I feel that we should be careful not to get carried away. It’s important that we’re grounded and not overwhelmed. I don’t mind having a little quiet, so this is my way of sitting with you and holding your hand in the absence of words between us.

I hope you always remember that you’re the love and light of my life. I’ll never leave you alone.

Your person”

Pile 3

The Fool (back of the deck), Death, The Chariot, The Hierophant

Hey there, Pile 3. This person has a spontaneous and easily excited energy. Your relationship seems to be in a kind of transition right now, one that is uncomfortable and maybe even painful (I’m sorry to hear that. Hang in there). What I can say is, they’re quite focused on you right now, though they are working on themselves. Above all, they just want to be on the same page as you.

“Sweetheart,

I know I haven’t been the most reliable person lately. I am a self-proclaimed fool who gets bright-eyed at shiny things that catch my attention. Do you know that you’re the first person who’s made me feel like this? I’m suddenly aware of how fickle I can be. This feeling of innocence can only be so sweet until I get my head down from the sky and see the reality that my behavior was already pushing you away from me.

I’m so sorry. I want to change and do right by you– show you action that is truly aligned with my honest intentions for you. You illuminated my faults that I now want to mature and be wiser from. I want to be worthy of holding your heart. I know that between us, we’re not really in the best place right now, but you know… I don’t need the rest of those shiny things. You’re the one I want. I think you and I are meant to be.

I want to reconcile our differences and finally release the past that doesn’t have to dictate our future. Commitment is not an easy road, I know, especially for someone with a nature like mine, but I hope you believe me when I say that I do want the real deal with you, everything. And I hope you will still accept me despite me being rough around the edges.

From, Me”

Pile 4

Judgment (back of the deck), Queen of Cups Rx, Queen of Pentacles, 7 of Cups Rx

You seem to have quite a deep bond with this person, Pile 4. A lot of emotions between you, too. I feel that they welcome it, the reflections and awakenings, but they feel overwhelmed about it right now. There’s a prominent feeling of being under a magnifying glass.

“My dear,

Of all the people in my life, it is you who always sees through me, as if I am made of glass. The more I spend time with you, the more I discover things about myself, both good and bad. You’re a force to be reckoned with.

It’s made me kind of awake, and vigilant somehow, but sometimes to the point where I’m walking on eggshells. I know you mean well, and you may not be even entirely aware of your effect on me, but it has taken a toll on my emotions. It pushed me to be more conscious than I should be– I don’t want to be dependent on you like that.

You push me to be a better person and I’m more than grateful for your inspiring presence in my life, but I would like us to return to a more stable ground– one that won’t ask for too much too soon. Let us slow down for a bit, my dear, so we can tackle the bumps along the road one at a time, instead of rushing into a rocky path. I don’t believe our relationship has to have us constantly catching up to one another, but to have us patiently grounding ourselves until we see eye-to-eye, without rose-colored glasses.

I love you. I hope you will be able to accept me not just for who I could be but for who I am right now, in front of you.

Your love”

Pile 5

Knight of Swords (back of the deck), Queen of Swords, 9 of Swords, 6 of Pentacles, 3 of Cups, 10 of Swords

This is from a sharp and driven person, Pile 5. With all these Swords, I believe you have an intellectual relationship with them. A lot of your conversations stimulate you both mentally and you can’t seem to stop talking to each other for real. It’s giving me the trope of two people from a debate club who keep riling each other up. They think very highly of you. You’re also on their mind on loop.

“Hey (your name),

Our banter is one-of-a-kind. It’s always kind of fun talking to you, wanting to know what you think about something or another. Our opinions may clash sometimes but I can’t help but respect you anyway because you’ve never been one to back down. Hell, I always want to impress you. Replaying our conversations in my head keeps me up at night.

I don’t think you see what I genuinely think of you, though. On the outside I may seem cold, but it’s a double-edged sword. I probably worry more about what you really think of me than I should. A lot goes on inside me than I show whenever we interact. Being playfully savage with each other is kind of our thing, but there are some things I take to heart. I’m not even sure how much you meant it, or if this is really just something my mind does now with the way you’re affecting me. It hurts sometimes, you know.

Deep down, I long for you to feel the same admiration for me as I do for you. I want to be seen as an equal by someone so stable, strong-willed and has so much to give like you do. I’m not the only one who wants a taste of you and it’s plain to see why. Most of all, if you permit, I would like to be more than friends with you.

I’m still gonna try to burn the hell out of your argument, though.

From, (their name)”

Pile 6

4 of Cups (back of the deck), 2 of Pentacles, Strength, 7 of Pentacles, The Magician

Oh my, this is someone you wouldn’t have guessed is holding a torch for you! A secret admirer of sorts. They’re very lowkey but seem to be popular in their own way from other people, receiving offers that they only turn down or even pretend not to see. They’re not making any kind of moves but let me tell you, Pile 6, they’re trying really hard not to slip around you. (How sweet! They’re also learning to manifest because of you!)

“Dear (your name),

You may see me as unbothered but really, all it takes is one move. One look, one smile from you, one second to hear your laugh. I thought I had a pretty strong facade, but I have a hard time focusing when you’re near. You may see me for who I really am, a big softie for you, and I’m just not ready for that yet.

You’re so different from me, yet I can see similarities between us. You’re larger than life but I don’t see you making a big deal about it; you’re just… who you are, and you’re amazing. Balanced. Humble. You know when to step forward and when to step back. How do you do it? How do you have all the energy for that– rather, how do you control that energy? As for me, I know I focus way too much trying not to be seen.

I want to get to know you, and I dare say I want to get close to you. I don’t find coming out of my shell easy at all, especially around you, but I believe you’re worth it. I know it takes a lot of time and effort, considering the way I am right now. I’ll keep working on it, I’ll take it one day at a time if I have to. You empower me and make me realize my potential. I’ll do my best to get there. Then I’ll let you know.

Happy Valentine’s Day, From (their name)”

🌹💐🍫 🌹💐🍫

Thank you for taking the time to interact with my reading! I hope this has helped you in one way or another and hopefully sprinkled a little sweetness in your day. Take it easy and stay safe~💝

#pick a card #pick a pile #general reading #pac #tarot #tarot reading #pick a card reading #pac reading #tarotblr #divination #tarot community #love reading #love letter #love message #tarot message #valentines day #valentines reading

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linda-ravstar · 3 months ago

Text

A conversation between Ranni the Witch and Saint Trina. Pre DLC, canon-ish timeline. Only dialogue.

“Dost thou forgive me, then?”

“No.”

“Why is he not here to talk to me if he is so interested?”

“He knows not that I am here… Yet.”

"Oh?"

“Wilt thou do what I ask?”

“What is there for me? Why would I want to help him?”

“Thou owest him.”

“Do I…?”

“Thou dost. Hast thou forgotten?”

“Art thou collecting?”

“No, I am asking.”

“Then…?”

“I thought the Lunar Princess of Caria kept her word.”

“Hm. Thou art just like him. Mayhap less subtle.”

“… And it could help thee.”

“How so?”

“If thou dost what I asked… mayhap the one to whom thou givest my gift shall help thee. They shall be chosen. They shall be strong. They shan’t give up. They could be useful to thy efforts.”

“And why would Miq… Why wouldst thou, Saint of Dreams, want to help me, the one thou dost not forgive?”

“I desire not to help thee. I wish to aid him. I wish to stop him.”

“And only a chosen Tarnished wouldst do it? The one called to be Elden Lord?”

“The one with the strength to be Elden Lord.”

“A Tarnished lord is said to be fated to kill us all. Well, those of us who can be killed.”

“Perhaps. Perhaps that shall happen.”

“So thou wishest to die.”

“There are worse things.”

“… Thou dost look tired. Is… Is he alright?”

“He is… not.”

“Ha. Hath he finally realized that any change cannot happen in this world by only hurting himself? Sacrifices must be made. No path is clean. No hands shall be free of blood and tears."

“Like thine?”

“Yes, like mine. I do not deny it.”

“… If it were so simple as to hurt himself, or die, or suffer… This world would have already changed, princess. If the peace we seek could be bought with only our blood, thou wouldst have thy cup overflowing with it long ago. But as thou saidst, it’s not so simple.”

“Mine age shall be different. No more chains of gold around these lands. No more fingers crawling in the fates of us all. No more sons or daughters called to bear the sins of their mother.”

“… Princess.”

“Hmm?”

“If thou art victorious, someday… In thy new world… Wilt thou remember Malenia? … Godwyn?”

“Not everything can be undone. There are forces that are part of this world, only emboldened by death bound and the stagnation of life. I shall give them the freedom from the gold, the cold guidance of the dark moon. I shall keep mine own memories, mine sins and loves. But what it is cannot cease to be.”

“… I understand.”

“…”

“He would have supported thee, thou knowest?”

“Miquella?”

“He would have knelt before thee and wished to see thy age of stars embrace this world. We would have our corner of the world, our small kingdom of downtrodden and outcasts. He would have been happy to see thee reign and spend his life amidst inventions and wonders. Even if his curse would have remained. …But only if thou couldst have saved those he loved.”

“I shall mourn both of your deaths. I fear… I fear thou wilt lose more than thy lives in this misted path. Marika did.”

“Perhaps. Canst thou blame us?”

“I know not.”

“Please think of my ask.”

“I shall. Go in peace. Tell Miquella… if thou canst… that I always admired his heart. If anyone could have done it, ‘twas him. And if anyone can save him, I’m sure ‘tis thee. ...Give my love to noble Torrent as well. His path will surely be a long one before sweeter rasins can reach his nose."

“I shall share thy blessing with him. And... I shall take thy words within mine heart, Lady Ranni. I hope thou findest peace in thy dreams. I hope thou findest solace from thy sins.... Thou mayest wake up now.”

“Goodbye, Trina.”

“Goodbye… sister.”

... Or, "Why would Ranni have the Spirit Calling Bell".

#elden ring #shadow of the erdtree #saint trina #lunar princess ranni #ranni the witch #miquella #miquella the unalloyed #miquella the kind #only dialogue #my work

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my-writings-and-musings · 2 years ago

Note

i was wondering if i could request a thing with earthspark megatron and a human reader pls!👉👈

Megatrons partner gives him some kisses early in the day, and he goes about the rest of his day as usual...until he realizes later on that his partner wears lipgloss, and he was walking around with sparkly smooch marks on his face all day

Ahhhh that's absolutely adorable, I shall do my best!

Megatron couldn't keep himself from chuckling as you took full advantage of your proximity to his face, peppering his brow with all the kisses you wouldn't be able to give while the two of you were apart. Holding you close in his cupped palms, he hesitated to check his internal chronometer for the time, knowing he was probably already late to the first of his assigned duties. There would be unpleasant quips from his human superiors if he was, but could anyone blame him for preferring your company to GHOST's?

When he finally did check the time and confirmed his tardiness, he cleared his vents to interrupt the gentle kisses you were still peppering across his cheeks. "I have to meet the others now, love." he said sadly, standing from his berth and stepping from his darkened room into the equally dim hallway. You nodded in equally glum understanding, but perked up when he leaned in so you could nuzzle his helm and offer a final kiss whilst he made a promise.

"I will message you as soon as I am free." he said as he dropped to one knee and helped you to the floor.

"Don't be long." you said playfully as you headed off, loving that he watched you every step of the way until you were beyond his sight.

---

Megatron made it a point to attend to his duties swiftly and quite mechanically, not wanting to waste a moment that could have been better spent at your side, but on this particular day he was encountering a number of unexpected hindrances.

Every human he needed to interact with, and he meant every last one, was acting even more unusually than he was accustomed to. He was used to them cowering whenever he turned their way, but he was not prepared for the looks of utter bewilderment he kept encountering as the day wore on. Some would stop to stare, others did double takes, those he needed to speak with directly tended to go speechless... It was as infuriating as it was utterly baffling.

By the time he arrived for his last assignment, a simple unloading of supplies, he was in a sour mood. The only saving grace was that he would be seeing you soon, and that Optimus was providing assistance. Yet even his companion was not immune to the strange behavior infecting the human personnel. As soon as they saw one another his old friend had been unable to hide the expression of surprise that had flashed across his face, yet he hadn't said a word or offered any clue as to what might be amiss. Megatron had still been more than able to spot the smirk on his face when Optimus thought he wasn't looking.

He'd have snapped and demanded an explanation eventually, but thankfully his friend spoke up first, clearing his vents during a brief window where the humans left them alone.

"Megatron?" he said politely, his tone reserved but carrying an undercurrent of what he almost dared to call amusement.

"Optimus." he clipped, depositing another stack of polished metal on the pile. Not bothering to hide his frustration, he crossed his arms as he turned to face his companion, making it as clear as possible that he was aware something was off. "Is something on your mind?"

Optimus failed to hide a flash of a smile, his optics twinkling with restrained delight before he spoke plainly. "No."

"Then why are you acting like this? Primus, why is everyone acting like this? Is there something I don't know?" he snapped, throwing up his arms as the confusion overflowed into frustration. Optimus was hardly alarmed by the outburst, and only shook his helm with a light chuckle.

"Did you have a chance to meet with Y/N this morning?" he asked as he allowed himself to smile, catching Megatron so off guard that his frustration utterly evaporated.

"...Why do you ask?" he countered with a narrowing of his optics, trying to imagine what sort of game he'd fallen into. Was this all an elaborate prank? The absolute delight on his friends face suggested as much, but he couldn't even begin to fathom what the goal of such an excercise might be.

"I would suggest you check your reflection." Optimus advised, providing no answers as he turned to grab the next batch of supplies.

Megatron was left frozen for a moment of continued confusion before he decided to comply, turning to the nearby pile of reflective metal that he'd just been stacking. Feeling a tad bit self conscious, he looked about before gazing deeply into his reflection. The issue became obvious quite immediately.

At least half a dozen glittery kiss marks peppered his helm and face, shimmering in the light before his hand shot up to wipe them away with middling success. His first realization was that the dim light of his bedroom must have hidden the shimmer of your lip gloss, and his second was that every single being he'd encountered had surely noticed... Suddenly the wide eyes and shocked silence made a great deal more sense.

He was near to paralyzed by mortification when the sound of Optimus Prime laughing tore him right out of the fog.

"Why remove it, Megatron?" his old friend said through barely restrained laughter, vents hitching as he struggled to keep his composure. "I'd say it's a good look for you!"

The Prime merely dodged the steel beam that was chucked his way with another laugh whilst Megatron silently committed to revenge that would have made the Great War look peaceful by comparison.

#transformers #maccadam #transformers: earthspark #transformers earthspark #tf earthspark #earthspark #es spoilers #tf earthspark spoilers #tfe spoilers #earthspark spoilers #spoilers #earthspark megatron #tfe megatron #tf megatron #megatron x reader #human reader #self insert

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maria-scribbles · 2 years ago

Text

meet me at midnight

summary: new year's eve, 1983. a rooftop, an epiphany, and a kiss that changes everything

wc: 5k

ship: eddie munson x f!henderson!reader

warnings: underage drinking, mentions of drugs and smoking, mention of barb's death (rip queen), stancy (eugh), kissing, the reader being jealous and insecure and also kinda stupid.

a/n: writing stancy made me physically ill. i really do love nancy but i'm afraid i wrote her terribly ooc in this ugh. also, do i headcannon eddie as a saxophone player? yes, yes i do. why? no fucking clue. robin's favorite band is named 'blush' after maya hawke's first album.

meet me at midnight

December 31st, 1983

"Sweet dreams are made of this, who am I to disagree?"

You were inclined to, that's for sure.

Annie Lennox's voice booms throughout the house as you tuck yourself further into the corner you've managed to claim, a lukewarm cup of punch in hand. It feels like the entire student body of Hawkins High is here at Tina's party, bodies jostling each other on the makeshift dance floor and spilling down the hallway like an overflowing sink, even trickling outside onto the deck to smoke despite the frosty air.

You shift your weight from one heeled boot to the other and choke down a sip of your drink, wincing at the alcohol burning its way down your throat. Leave it to some thickheaded jock to make a punch that's almost entirely rum, you think as you abandon the solo cup on the nearest shelf and pull your sweater sleeve down to check the time.

It's not nearly as late as you'd hoped, the glowing green numbers reading ten-thirty, and you drop your arm with a sigh. An hour and a half before midnight and an hour and a half way too long in your opinion.

"Having fun?" Nancy's face is flushed as she squeezes her way through the dancing crowd to you, dragging Steve by the hand.

Absolutely not.

"Oh, totally!" Your smile feels so forced you're sure she'll notice and call you out but it never comes, both to your relief and disappointment; once upon a time you'd been thick as thieves, the best of friends just like your little brother and hers, before she'd ditched you for Barb and left you behind in the dust.

Barb, whose body lies in another dimension, frozen forever at sixteen.

Yeah, you're still processing that last part and you were there, standing beside Dustin as Eleven confirmed Nancy's worst fear, heart breaking for your former best friend as she cried into Jonathan's arms.

(Later that night, when everything was said and done and you were safe in bed with your little brother sleeping soundly across the hall was when you cried for Barb, too, a girl who was kind and innocent and undeserving of her terrible fate.)

Your relationship's been on the mend ever since but as much as it hurts to admit, you'll never be as close as you once were and Nancy's inability -or unwillingness, you think bitterly- to pick up on your unhappiness is only further proof.

"Wanna come dance with us?" She asks, oblivious, and you shake your head, crossing your arms to keep her from grabbing your hand because as bored as you are, being a third wheel would be even worse. You already feel bad for crashing their date by tagging along for the drive here, even though they both insisted on giving you a ride.

"Trust me, that wouldn't be pretty. Dusty says I dance like a school chaperone."

Steve bursts out laughing at that and it makes your heart do a little flip in your chest, even as Nancy fondly shakes her head. "Come on, you're not that bad."

"Oh no, I am." You wrap your arms tighter around yourself as someone opens the front door and lets in a freezing blast of air. "Seriously, I'm good. I think I'm gonna go grab some snacks."

"Try the snickerdoodles! I ate, like ten of them." Steve admits that last part pretty sheepishly and the way Nancy stares up at him with the most adoring look in her eyes makes you feel like you're intruding on something private.

You offer an awkward smile in thanks and with a tiny wave from Nancy, they melt back into the mess of bodies dancing along to Cyndi Lauper, leaving you alone once again.

For no less than the fifth time tonight, you wish Robin was here, not halfway across the state visiting her grandparents. While you might've lost Nancy as your best friend in middle school, you gained another: Robin had also been dropped by Barb and so it was only fitting that the two of you became fast friends, not just acquaintances that sat beside each other in the band's trumpet section.

(You miss Nancy honestly, you really do, but sometimes you think being ditched was one of the best things that's ever happened. You and Robin just click, two peas in a pod, and to you, she feels like the sister you always wish Nancy would've been.)

If Robin was here, she would've already made some quip about Steve and his coiffed hair, or Carol and the permanent expression on her face that made her look like she smelled something bad, or Jason and his attempts to impress Chrissy with his awful dance moves, and it would've had you doubled over in laughter.

She wouldn't let you wallow in the corner by yourself, an outsider looking in, both unwilling and unable to throw caution to the wind and just let go. But she's not here, so wallowing it is.

Being kind to yourself has never been your strong suit.

As if the universe is listening, mocking, a gap in the crowd grows just enough to give you a perfect view of Steve and Nancy swaying in each other's arms and you hate the bitter taste that suddenly floods your mouth.

You have no right to be jealous.

You've never admitted your little crush on Steve to yourself, let alone Nancy: how was she supposed to know? You're not even sure if it's all about him in the first place because sure, you think he's cute -you always have- but you get the same gnawing feeling watching Bradley spin Tina around the room in a playful waltz or Nate stealing a kiss from Georgina under the mistletoe still hanging in the doorway and you can barely tolerate either of those idiots.

It's all so terribly confusing.

Steve twirls Nancy under his arm and then dips her low to the ground, her delighted laughter reaching your ears even over the pounding music and something ugly blooms in your chest. You make your escape before you can do something stupid like cry, weaving your way across the living room and down the hall toward the kitchen with your head down.

…Which is precisely how you end up head butting one of your classmates directly in the chest when you turn the corner.

They give a soft 'oof' of surprise and you're absolutely mortified when you realize it's a boy, not just from the tone of his voice but from the toes of his white Reeboks bumping into your boots.

The same shoes you've heard keeping time in band every day since seventh grade, tapping along to the beat on the riser behind you with the rest of the saxophone players. The same shoes you see at the desk in front of you in third period English, still tapping along to the music that's always running through his mind, accompanied by the furious scribbling of a pencil across paper as he jots down lyrics for a new song.

You wince and keep your head down, hoping he'll just act like nothing happened and go on his merry way and just when you're about to think you're in the clear-

"Ow. You have a hard head, Henderson."

Shit, you think. Of course you had to literally run into the one person you feel like you can't speak two words to without making a complete fool of yourself; something about Eddie just makes you flustered beyond belief and you really wish you knew why 'cause it's, to put it frankly, annoying.

Really fucking annoying.

"Shit." You say out loud, quickly looking up to meet his big brown eyes before glancing away and staring at the zombie adorning the front of his Iron Maiden shirt instead. "Sorry, wasn't paying attention."

"No shit, Sherlock." He teases but there's no trace of malice in his voice, just amusement, even as his ringed hand comes into view and rubs the spot where your forehead crashed into his chest. "You okay?"

Embarrassment burns your face and you cross your arms defensively, firing back with a weak insult you're sure he can see right through 'cause if there's one thing you're good at, it's looking like an idiot all day, every day.

"I'm fine. You're not looking very festive, Munson."

He snorts in laughter and you finally gather the courage to meet his eyes again, only to find him already looking down at you with something behind his gaze that you can't quite figure out.

"I think you're festive enough for the both of us." He gestures to your deep navy sweater dotted with bursts of silver thread that give the illusion of stars. "You look really pretty, by the way."

Your brain short circuits.

Pretty? You're wearing your mom's sweater and Eddie thinks you look pretty?

You're too busy trying to get your mouth to work as the silence stretches on -you'll take a 'huh?' at this point, or maybe even an unintelligible squeak, just say something, you moron- to notice the pink blooming high in his cheeks and the way he speaks in a rush, the words all jumbling together so fast it's hard for your frazzled mind to understand what he's saying.

"-your help, so keep watch, okay?"

Keep watch?

He turns and strides into the kitchen without another word and you end up following a few seconds later, after you've finally recovered enough to get your legs working, at least.

You find him standing by the big bowl of punch, rummaging around the array of bottles littering the island, every so often picking one up to inspect before putting it back in its place with a shake of his head. To your surprise, it's not more alcohol he finally picks up but a two-liter of Sprite and at last you get your mouth to work as you blurt out, "What the hell are you doing?"

"Fixing this shitty ass punch." He's not even phased by your sudden question, save for the quick smile he sends your way as he pours the entire bottle in. "Have you tried it? Jesus, Jan would be disgusted."

You cross your arms and lean your hip against the counter, keeping an eye on the door just like he'd asked. "I have, unfortunately. Who's Jan?"

"Bartender at the Hideout." Eddie throws a reply over his shoulder as he digs around in the fridge, yelling triumphantly when he finds whatever he's looking for. It turns out to be a can of pineapple juice and he dumps that in, too, turning the blue punch a pretty shade of green. "My band plays there on-"

"-Tuesdays, I know." You interrupt without thinking and rush to explain yourself, almost tripping over your words when he turns his curious gaze on you.

"Um, there's this all-girl band Robin loves, Blush. We go see them sometimes and end up staying to watch you guys, too, because you're really good-" You pause at the smile slowly growing wider on his face and shake your head. "-but you already knew that, didn't you?"

He shrugs, still grinning like the Cheshire Cat as he stirs some cherries into the punch, then dishes out two cups and pushes one across the island to you.

"Yeah, I see you there a lot. You're kind of hard to miss when the rest of the audience is just five old drunk dudes."

Your laugh rings in the cavernous kitchen as you push off the counter to grab your drink, tapping it against his when he holds it out toward you.

"Cheers."

You're not sure what to expect when you take that tentative first sip but it's definitely not something sweet and smooth with just the right amount of fizz, the burn of the rum still present but not as overpowering as it was before.

"Okay, so I don't know how you managed to make this shit taste good but you did."

Eddie sweeps into a low bow and you hide a smile behind your cup at his theatrics. "Thank you, thank you. I do accept tips, you know, and all proceeds go directly to Jan so she can buy herself a car."

You smile wider and take another sip. "I'd love to donate but I left my purse at home, I'm afraid."

He clicks his tongue in mock disappointment before leaning forward across the island and waving you closer, dropping his voice to such a low whisper you would've had to move in anyway to even hear him.

"How about I make you a deal, Henderson? Come watch us next Tuesday, slip Jan a twenty, and I'll play a song -any song- just for you."

"Ooh, tempting." You whisper back just as quietly, tapping a finger against your chin even as a weird feeling takes hold in your stomach at his offer. "Any song I want? How about-"

"Hold on, I take that back. Any song but 'September.'"

Your jaw drops. "How'd you know-"

"Because I hear you humming it every day in band, that's how."

"Oh." How the hell does he know you hum that song when half the time you don't even realize you're doing it? You've annoyed Dustin enough to know it's true, after he told you in no uncertain words. "How about I make you a deal? I give Jan thirty dollars and Corroded Coffin covers Earth, Wind & Fire."

He stares at you for a beat longer before slowly breaking out into a smile. "…I'll think about it."

You've always know he has a pretty smile, catching glimpses of it across the cafeteria from where you sat with Robin and the rest of the marching band or in crowded hallways as you rushed to make it to your locker in between classes, but having its full force directed right at you knocks the very breath right out of your lungs.

"it's not a no, so…works for me." You say, propping your chin in one hand and swirling your cup in the other, watching the opaque green liquid spin around like the center of a hurricane. "Why'd you have me guard the door, anyway? I wouldn't call making this sludge drinkable very deviant of you."

"Please," Eddie scoffs, mirroring you exactly. "'Resident metalhead spotted adding mixers to the jungle juice?' I can't trash my reputation like that."

"No, never." You huff a laugh under your breath. "You'd be ruined."

He laughs, too, and you're not sure when it became so warm in here but it's making you want to roll your sweater sleeves up to your elbows.

"See! I knew you'd have my back, Henderson."

The more you think about it, the more you realize you always have. Every time the rumor mill paints him in a bad light, you're there to put it all to rest with nothing more than a perfectly directed scowl because you like Dio, too and wear black nail polish and occasionally play DnD with Dustin and his friends when they need a sub and no one's ever accused you of worshiping Satan for fuck's sake.

If any of them would bother to look deeper than the surface, they'll see what you do, that he's kind and sweet and caring and you know because you've seen him prove it with your own eyes: driving the rest of the Hellfire Club home if they didn't have rides, sticking up for the freshmen when the seniors decide to be cruel, and even now, witnessing him first hand try to raise money for a coworker to buy a car (granted that method might be called borderline manipulation but still, at least it's for a good cause).

"'Course I do." It's both too simple a statement and more than you ever wanted to admit and the way he's staring at you feels different, somehow, different and yet not unwelcome as you stare right back…

(Has he always had that dusting of freckles across his nose?)

…which is why you end up putting your foot in your mouth without even realizing it. "That's what friends are for, right?"

"Right, yeah."

Something flickers behind his brown eyes but it's gone before you can put your finger on it and he's smiling that smile again, pointed canines on full display as he hastily nods and straightens, downing the rest of his drink in one go.

"Do you have the time?" He sheepishly holds up his bare wrist. "Forgot my watch."

"Oh, sure." The sudden change of subject nearly gives you whiplash as you push your sleeve up to check. "Almost eleven fifteen."

"No time to lose, let's go." He grabs a napkin and swipes a few cookies from the counter, tucking them away into the pocket of his leather jacket.

"Go where?"

"You'll see." Eddie nods his head toward the doorway and holds out a hand, silver rings catching the harsh kitchen lights. "C'mon, you trust me?"

"Against my better judgement." You tease and his laugh is downright devilish when you take his hand anyway, letting him lead you out into the hall.

You're not prepared for the warmth of his palm or the rough, calloused touch of his fingers or how your hand looks so small in his as he expertly weaves through your classmates milling about until you reach the bottom of the stairs, pausing just long enough to make sure the coast is clear before dashing up to the second floor.

"Are we even allowed up here?" You whisper and while the little conspiratorial grin on his face doesn't do much to ease your mind, the quick squeeze he gives your hand somehow does.

"Nope!" He leads you down the dark hallway with practiced ease, opening the last door on the left before pulling you inside and softly shutting it behind you both.

"I feel like a delinquent." Your quiet voice echoes in the large room, clearly Tina's from the Hawkins High cheer uniform hanging on the closet door and the over abundance of pink, and he snickers as he drops your hand to grab a blanket draped over the desk chair.

"Live a little, Henderson!" He opens another door, this one leading out onto a moonlit balcony -Jesus, you knew Tina's family was rich but come on- and holds it for you as you step outside. It's just beginning to snow, specks of white drifting down silently and forming a barely there dusting on the railing and you hold out your hand to catch one, watching as the tiny flake instantly disappears from the heat of your palm.

"C'mon, I'll give you a boost." Eddie says, tossing the blanket up onto the section of roof that's just a bit lower than the others.

"Don't tell me you shoot webs from your wrists." You joke, warily eyeing the spot even as you step forward and stand in front of him, grabbing the edge with both hands.

"Nah, I couldn't handle the responsibility of being Spider-Man." He moves closer and hovers his hands over your sides. "Still trust me?"

You nod.

"Can I touch you?" His voice is a low whisper in your ear and when a shiver runs down your spine, you blame it on the sudden gust of wind, nothing more.

You nod again.

His hands are big and oh so warm as he places them on your waist and before you know it, you're lifted onto the roof without so much as a warning, the rough shingles cold against your knees even through the thick denim of your jeans.

Holy shit, he's strong.

You don't even get the chance to offer your hand as he pulls himself up with an almost casual grace and spreads the blanket out, each step he takes so confident and sure, like he's done it time and time again.

"So, you sure know your way around Tina Williamson's roof." You carefully crawl closer and take a seat beside him, close enough that the length of your body is pressed right up against his to ward off the cold.

To be fair, you're also the slightest bit terrified of somehow falling right off the edge and it's like he reads your mind when he shuffles even closer and rests his arm along the curve of your back, not quite touching but near enough that you just know he'll catch you.

"Found out I could climb up here two years ago and-" He explains, pointing off somewhere beyond the back yard in the vague direction of town. "-it's got a killer view of the fireworks."

"It's peaceful." The sounds of the festivities have faded to nothing more than a faint thumping of bass and the occasional burst of laughter floating up from the smokers on the back deck. "So for the last two years, every party Tina's thrown, you've just been hiding up here?"

"More like escaping." Eddie shrugs and stares ahead at the snow-covered trees. "I don't even want to come to these things and I'm only invited 'cause I deal. Once these rich kids get their stuff and I get paid…no one really cares where I go so I just do what I want."

You care.

"All by yourself?"

He nudges you with his shoulder and when you turn to face him, that same look from earlier is behind his eyes, the one from the hallway and the kitchen that you still can't quite figure out. "You're the only person I've ever brought up here."

"Really?"

It's cold, the snow starting to fall a little bit heaver now, and yet you're so, so warm under his gaze as he nods, the corners of his mouth turned up ever so slightly in the softest smile you've ever seen from him.

It's like hot chocolate on a snowy day or a cozy blanket on a cold night, safe and warm and feeling more than a little like home.

"I'm trusting you with this, Henderson. Don't abuse your power."

You smile and duck your head, pulling your sweater sleeves down further over your cold fingers. "Wouldn't dream of it, Munson."

You'd nearly forgotten all about the cookies hidden in his jacket pocket until he nudges your arm and hands you two, one of his own hanging out of his mouth and you realize they're the snickerdoodles Steve had told you to try.

For the first time, the thought of him doesn't make your stomach twist or your chest hurt. Honestly? You don't really feel anything in particular, other than the fact that he has damn good taste in desserts as you take a bite of your cookie, perfectly baked and covered in just the right amount of cinnamon and sugar.

No wonder he ate ten of them.

You finish eating in silence but you don't feel the need to fill it with anything other than the sound of your breathing; Eddie doesn't either and for who knows how long you sit side by side, watching tiny snowflakes lazily fall from the sky. They dot his dark hair with spots of white and a laugh slips from your mouth before you can stop it.

"What?" He turns your way and you just shake your head as you reach over and brush some flakes from the ends of his curls.

"The snow in your hair, it kinda looks like powdered sugar."

"Oh, so you think I'm sweet?" He waggles his eyebrows and you laugh so hard you have to lean on his shoulder to keep from falling over. The arm he has resting behind you's now fully pressed against your back and it feels like a live wire running along your spine.

"I never said that!"

"But you implied it." Your breath catches as he gently brushes some snow from your hair as well, the warm, calloused pads of his fingers glancing along your face. "And good thing 'cause I think you're sweet, too."

You suddenly get the feeling you've missed something very very important as you scoot away just far enough to turn and face Eddie fully. Down below, your classmates flood out onto the back deck to wait for the fireworks as the new year approaches but you could care less, all of your focus right in front of you on big brown eyes and tiny freckles and a beautifully devastating smile.

"Me?" You speak quietly into the cold air, the question forming swirling white wisps that float above your heads for a fleeting second before disappearing into the night.

You could elaborate but you don't have to because you know he knows exactly what you mean as his hand hovers in the air between you for a long moment before he finally reaches forward and tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

"I thought I was being obvious." He says, a red hue coloring his cheeks that you know now is definitely not from the cold.

"Why?"

"Why did I think I was being obvious? Henderson, I'm gonna play Earth, Wind & Fire for you!"

"No, why do you…why me?"

It makes him pause, a gentle furrow to his brow, and the way he says your name so softly makes your heart skip a beat.

"Because you're you."

A minute to midnight is a pretty fucking weird time to have an epiphany but you've never had good timing.

"Oh."

It's like something just clicks, the last piece of the puzzle you didn't even know you were trying to solve slotting into place and it all makes such perfect sense you're not sure how you didn't see it before.

"I know you're into Harrington," Eddie says hastily, eyes darting away from yours for just a second before they come right back, wide and honest in the dark. "And I get it if you never want to speak to me again 'cause I just made things super weird but-"

"I'm not into Steve."

You don't know how he makes confusion look so cute but he does, eyebrows knit together and making a little wrinkle in his forehead that's just visible under his bangs. "You're not?"

"I thought I was but…" You trail off as more and more people flood outside, their voices loud and full of excitement as the countdown begins. "Turns out I'm falling for someone else and I finally figured out who."

"Ten, nine, eight."

You scoot closer, sitting on your knees so your face is level with his when you reach out to brush some more snow from his hair, letting your fingers graze over his cheek like the ghost of a kiss. "Sorry it took me so long to catch up."

"Seven, six, five."

"Oh. It's okay." He sputters, a brilliant red flush slowly crawling up his neck like ivy. "I mean, I've liked you for a while now, ever since you joined the band when I was in eighth grade-"

"Four."

"-and you sat in front of me with your trumpet, wearing a Judas Priest shirt and I-"

"Eddie?" You interrupt because as much as you want to hear the rest of his story, you've got a more important thing on your mind.

"Three."

"Yeah?"

"Two."

"Please stop talking."

His jaw snaps shut almost comically and he watches with those wide eyes of his as you slowly cup his face in your hands.

"One."

The clock strikes midnight. The first firework shoots off from downtown and explodes in a brilliant flash of shimmering gold in the inky black sky. And you lean forward and kiss Eddie Munson.

The fireworks overhead are nothing compared to the ones you feel when he responds to your kiss with one of his own, his lips soft and sure under yours as he wraps an arm around your waist to pull you closer.

He tastes like cinnamon sugar, spicy and sweet, and you can't get enough of him, of his warmth and his fingers sliding into your hair and the noise he makes low in his throat when you part your lips under his.

Kissing him is addicting, intoxicating. It's all you've ever wanted.

He's all you ever wanted.

You were just too blind to see it.

He's all you can see now when you finally part, all swollen lips and flushed cheeks and a smile that would've taken your breath if you had any left to give. The fireworks are long over but you don't even care that you missed the whole show as you lean forward to press your forehead against his.

"So, eighth grade, huh?" You ask and Eddie nods, rolling a strand of your hair between his thumb and pointer finger.

"You were humming 'Highway to Hell' and had holes in your jeans. And when I heard you talking about learning to play DnD for your little brother? That was it for me."

"I was nervous when I first joined band 'cause I had trouble staying on beat. I was so scared they were gonna kick me out." You say and when a snowflake lands on his cheek, you wipe it away with your thumb. "But I heard you tapping your foot behind me and you helped me keep time. Without you, I don't even know if I'd still be playing."

He tucks your hair behind your ear before taking your cold hands in his and bringing them to his mouth to kiss your knuckles, his touch so soft and sweet it makes your head spin.

"Your hands are freezing."

"I don't want to go home yet."

You could stay like this forever with him and when he leans forward to press his lips to yours, you know he feels the same.

"Where to then?"

He's never looked more beautiful to you, his pretty brown eyes blown wide and full of affection and reflecting the shimmer of the stars overhead and a slow smile creeps onto your lips when you weave your fingers between his.

"Surprise me. I'm all yours."

An adorable pink blush sweeps across his nose as he pulls you in for another kiss and you know without a doubt you're speaking the truth.

You know you mean every word.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie stranger things #eddie munson imagine #joseph quinn #my writing #tag check

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