#MAKING ME CHOOSE BETWEEN MY WIVES
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op why would you do this to me
Vote #5
#MAKING ME CHOOSE BETWEEN MY WIVES#EVIL#(I went for sue but by god it was basically eenie meeny miney mo)#yonderland#sue yonderland#edith yonderland
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I was thinking earlier that I find autumn gardening a lot more soothing than spring or summer gardening. Fewer things happen, there's no urgency, you're no longer pressed by strict tomato schedules. In the spring I plant vegetables (daily maintenance, many opportunities for mistakes), in autumn I get rid of broom (there's no wrong way to kill broom) and plant trees (a finite task.) Trees have independent spirits, you plant them and do your best to put them in good conditions and then you're free; but carrots have needs. Vegetables need sisyphean amounts of weeding and watering—not too much but not too little—, I’ve got to check leaf colour to see if I'm doing something wrong (with tomatoes the answer is yes), they get mildewy, they get attacked by insects, they need protection from chickens (it's easier to protect a tree from deer than a courgette plant from hens) and frequent tiny haircuts and sponge baths like royal wives. Things can go wrong with baby trees too but they don't expect you to worry about them every day, they're doing their thing, you're doing your thing.
Also planting trees & the large-scale weeding I do in autumn can be done cleanly if I'm careful, but even with gloves I find it impossible to plant & weed a vegetable garden without getting my hands dirty. At some point or other you just have to touch dirt. When you choose to live a rural life everyone assumes you must enjoy touching dirt with your hands but I do not. It's not a texture thing or a germ thing, it’s just that having dirty hands places an obstacle between me and my books. I didn’t like to make sandcastles on the beach as a kid for this reason, I’ve always been reluctant to touch things that might cling to my skin, like soil or wet sand, because now there’s a wall of glass called rinse your hands between me and the book I carry on my person. This creates a nagging psychological discomfort.
I read a book by a woman gardener last spring in which she says she wouldn't even mind getting no harvest because she feels soothed by the very act of gardening, and I felt bad for gardening in a utilitarian, result-oriented way and not having attained her higher stage of soul development, but in autumn I get it. It's nice to clear an area of brambles and plant a tree and then sit down to read for a bit next to this quiet and friendly entity you planted that doesn't need anything from you in the immediate future. I could do this with no expectations. I have a very different relationship with my spring carrots but that's okay, I've decided I'm an autumn gardener and now that I'm in a category I feel secure.
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deja vu - part 2
planning out your road trip through the pacific northwest, you find yourself inexplicably drawn to the town of gravity falls.
little did you know that this town held more memories than you could have possibly imagined.
too bad you didn't remember any of them.
stan x fem!reader/ford x fem!reader
choose your own ending / contains fluff and angst (w/ happy ending)
(if you would like a link to the playlist i created for this series, lmk!)
part one | part three
tag list: @awitchersbard / @theilluminatidragonqueen / @jazzypop-op/ @maryclanders/ @chaimshelii/@starship606/ @swimmingrascalbatdragon / @stanfordsbaby / @gxstiess / @skrunkle11 / @valinbean / @funkyenby / @therealgoofygoober69 / @theblueraven / @adrian920155 / @im-kinda-bored / @miarabanana / @uwauiss / @leo4242564 / @doggosnoodles12 / @soupieoopieisloopie / @zhungxi / @bandaids-n-porcelain / @marvelous-maniac / @opossumclown
It was a tense interaction following your question.
Ford’s eyebrows raised in alarm and he carefully approached you, “Of course, we’ve met before, it’s me, Stanford.”
You pause, glancing between Stanley and his twin before replying hesitantly, “Sorry, the name doesn’t ring a bell. I just learned your name a few seconds ago from your brother.”
Ford’s lips narrow into a thin line, vexation written all over his face, “I know we parted ways on less than ideal terms, Y/N, but there’s no reason to pretend like you don’t recognize me.”
Your eyebrow raised at Ford’s firm stance, crossing your arms, “I’m sorry to say but I truly don’t. Maybe you have me mistaken for someone else perhaps?” You can’t help but get defensive, feeling accused that you were blowing off this complete stranger.
“Oh, I’m not mistaken. I know you very well, Y/N. I know that you got your Masters in Geology at Backupsmore. I know that ammolite is your favorite gemstone. I know that you learned hamboning from Fiddleford just to get on my nerves.” Ford counters you with facts, his own stubbornness coming through as you stare each other down.
Your eyes widen at the amount of detail Ford seems to know about you, “How do you know all these things about me? How do you know Fiddleford? Did you help him with his research out here?”
Ford sighs heavily, “I know I messed up back then and I know you must hate me but can you please drop this childish charade?” His low voice raises slightly in volume as his frustration mounts as he finally snaps at you.
“Ford!” Stan cuts in between the two of you, catching both of you off guard, “Lay off her… I genuinely think she doesn’t… remember.” He sighs, putting the pieces together surprisingly quickly compared to his brother. He grabs his twin by the arm, pulling him off to the side, “Give us a second, we’ll be right back.” Stan says to you, giving you an apologetic stare.
You nod slowly as you decide to take a seat on the steps, watching as the sun slowly begins to set in the horizon. This new information perplexes you as you try to wrack your brain if Fiddleford had ever mentioned working with someone during his time in Gravity Falls.
Meanwhile, the Pines twins walk off into the distance, just out of ear shot. “So who is she?” Stan questions, needing answers from his brother before he can present his finding. Ford bristles at the question, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he looks off into the distance before answering, “Remember when we were out at sea commiserating on past romances… and I told you how I had met someone during my time in college but she left after I had gotten too deep into my involvement with Bill.”
“Yeah, vaguely, I thought you were just making that up to try and relate to my stories about my ex-wives. You never were smooth with the ladies.” Stan admits with a shrug to which Ford rolls his eyes at. “Well, that’s her. The age old cliche of the one that got away.” Ford summarizes, “But she was never this petty before. I know I hurt her immensely but…”
“She’s not being petty, poindexter. Haven’t you figured it out yet?” Stan sighs, running a hand over his face in exasperation. Ford stares back blankly at him, unsure how to respond. “God, you’re supposed to be the smart one here. Remember your old friend McGucket’s invention? You know the one that can literally erase memories? The one that erased all my memories?” Stan spells it out for his brother.
It all clicks in Ford’s head, “You don’t think… Fiddleford wiped her memory, do you?”
“Ding, ding, we got a winner!” Stan says sardonically, “Took ya long enough.”
“Why would he do that? I need to get to the bottom of this, Stanley…” Ford looks over his brother’s shoulder, staring at you. Despite the time that has passed, you look just as vibrant as he remembered you, your features highlighted in the orange glow of the sunset.
Stan notices the longing look on his brother’s face and places a hand on his shoulder, “You know she’s supposed to head out tomorrow morning? Got a whole road trip planned ahead.”
“Well, let’s see if she’d at least be willing to stick around to talk to Fiddleford.” Ford says with steely determination as he begins to walk back towards you, Stan following at his heels.
You look up as the pair walk up to you, able to see them side by side. There were distinct differences in terms of style but they were nearly identical, only just now picking up the cleft in Stanford’s chin and their different glasses.
Ford mulls over his choice of words. Despite being the more logical twin, Ford had to admit he was perhaps just as stubborn as his brother. “My apologies for my directness. I know you may not remember me, but please trust me when I say that we have an extensive history together. What if we were to visit Fiddleford tomorrow to perhaps quell your doubts and clarify some things?” He offers, hoping in the back of his mind that you’ll say yes.
You pause at the offer, thinking it through. You had the urge to decline, still on the defense. After all, this man pretty much accused you of acting like a child when you didn’t recognize him.
However, you did wish to see Fiddleford again, so curious about what happened to him after all these years.
“Alright, I’ll stay another day in Gravity Falls to see Fiddleford. But I want to know a little bit more about you.” Your eyes narrow in on Ford. Stan clears his throat, very aware of the tension between the two of you. “Well, I’m gonna go take care of… the broken thing inside...” He grumbles out the last part, making an awkward escape as he walks past you up the steps before pausing at the door to address you, “Come back inside whenever you and Sixer are done talking, I’ll clear out one of the rooms so you can stay for the night.”
Before you can protest, Stan closes the screen door behind him, giving you and Ford some privacy.
“So you had some questions for me?” Ford sighs, deciding to take a seat next to you. It felt so strange to be so close to you physically after all this time yet so distant due to your loss of memories, wishing that he could pull you into a tight embrace and apologize for everything that happened in the past.
“Well, I’m assuming if you know Fiddleford and somehow know that I got my Masters in Geology that you went to Backupsmore as well.” You start there, knowing the common thread that connects the two of you is the university you all attended, “That’s correct, not my first choice obviously.” Ford replies with a nod.
“Is it anyone’s first choice?” You comment which pulls a chuckle from Ford who shakes his head. “Very true, I know it wasn’t either of ours. Fiddleford was just elated to be the first in his family to even go.”
“So what did you major in?” You ask with a tilt of your head, “And how did you meet Fiddleford?”
“What didn’t I major in is the better question. I technically have 12 PhDs but my main focuses were Physics and Molecular Biology.” Ford admitted with a sense of pride, your jaw almost dropping at this information. ”As for how I met Fiddleford, I had proposed a theory in class one time that immediately got shot down by my professor. But Fiddleford shared my passion for pushing boundaries of existing theories and knowledge and we spent the whole night trying to prove it had validity.” Ford said, smiling at that particular memory.
You note the admiration in Ford’s voice as he speaks of Fiddleford, knowing that their relationship must be close. “I’m so confused… how do I not remember you if you and Fiddleford have such a close relationship?” You sigh, second guessing your own memories at this point. All this information felt like it made sense logically but it was difficult to suspend your disbelief. You hesitate to ask the question, “How... did we meet?”
Ford pauses, staring out into the forest, unable to meet your gaze as he recounts your first meeting. It seems so distant but it was a simple time before life got complicated.
Before he made your lives complicated.
Before he can reply, you cut him off, seeing the pained look in his eyes and realizing you may have gone too far. Whoever you were to him, something must have happened between the two of you that led to this reaction. “Actually, don’t answer that… It's getting late and I know we’ll have all of tomorrow to go over this with Fiddleford.”
“Right… we should probably call it for the evening.” Ford lets out a sigh of relief, getting up from his spot on the steps. He offers his hand, your eyes flicking towards it and noting the six fingers that were facing towards you. Realizing what you’re staring at, he is about to withdraw his hand, an embarrassed flush to his cheeks, but you take it, your warm fingers wrapping around his palm, as you stand up.
“Are you heading inside?” You ask, still holding into his hand. He realizes you have yet to let go and basks in the moment, fighting the urge to intertwine his fingers with yours. “I’m going to stay out here for a bit longer. I should probably fix that invention that I was working on before…” Ford admits, almost waiting for you to scold him like you would in the past.
But you don’t.
Instead, you nod in understanding, squeezing Ford’s hand one final time before letting go. “Alright, I’m gonna head inside and see where I’m sleeping for the night…” You begin to walk towards the doorway before pausing at the door.
“Hey… I’m sorry I don’t remember you. I really hope tomorrow something sparks my memory.” You say, “Good night, Stanford.” You disappear behind the doorway, not waiting for him to respond.
Ford stares as he watches your frame retreat from behind the door, “Good night, Y/N… my dear.” The old pet name feeling heavy on his tongue but he can’t help but let it out.
-
As you stare up at the ceiling, you wonder how you even ended up in a storage room inside a tourist trap, laying on an air mattress.
Your trip - at least for the next day or so - is derailed. You’re thankful that Stan had offered to let you stay in the Mystery Shack as you were planning on sleeping in your car underneath the stars, drained from today’s turns of events and too tired to drive into town to try and find some sort of accommodation.
Yet your trip isn’t even the most pressing thing on your mind.
Who is Stanford Pines?
Your eyes shut tightly, trying to mull over the potential possibilities of how you might know this man who vehemently claims to know you. You knew you were getting older but there’s no way your memory was this shot, especially considering the fact that Ford had shared that he and Fiddleford were close friends and went to Backupsmore.
Your mind continued to draw blanks, unable to pinpoint a single memory that involved him.
Yet something about him was so familiar. Maybe that’s why a sense of deja vu had hit you the moment you met his brother and walked through the Mystery Shack.
Finally, fatigue hits you and you are able to fall asleep, slipping into a new dream.
You find yourself back at Backupsmore, walking through the quad and making your way to the library. The campus is decorated in hues of orange and yellow, autumn leaves scattered across the grass. Your boots crunching against the leaves as you weave through the bodies that mill around to and from class.
A gust of wind hits your face, wincing as the harshness against your skin as you had forgotten to bring a scarf on your trek. You finally make it to the library, opening the heavy doors to be greeted to the warmth and scent of old paperback books.
You walk past the front desk, making your way directly to the back of the library to the stacks. You pass the mostly empty study carrels one by one, looking for someone specific.
You get to the very end of what seemed like a never ending maze and see a table tucked into the corner, surrounded by bookshelves. A broad-shouldered figure, wearing a sweater vest, sits facing away from you, their head buried in the pile of books around them.
Your lips begin to move, calling out a name to address the person before you.
Stanford.
You wake up in a startle, your heartbeat pounding in your ears as you feel a sudden pressure on your chest. Your eyes adjust to the sight in front of you, seeing a blur of pink, thinking you’re still dreaming. Rubbing your eyes vigorously, you realize there’s a pig sniffing your face in curiosity.
“God, what have I gotten myself into?” You groan out groggily, laying back in defeat as Waddles begins to lick your cheek.
-
Meanwhile in the kitchen, Ford sits awkwardly in front of an audience of his great nephew and niece who are gaping at him in awe, just having explained the whole situation to them as they questioned who’s car was parked in the front of the Mystery Shack.
Stan sips from a mug that spells ‘World’s Greatest Grunkle’ that Mabel made him, a slightly amused grin spreading across his face. The look on their faces was priceless, he thinks to himself, wishing he could take a photo of it. Though, he was in their shoes just last night, still processing that his poindexter brother actually landed someone after all those years of fearing girls and that she somehow ended up stranded on the side of the road just as he was driving back home.
He was just grateful though that his brother wasn’t around for the parts where he was clearly smooth talking to you, unaware that you were his twin’s ex-lover.
“Oh my god, Grunkle Ford, this is amazing!” Mabel exclaims, her eyes sparkling with excitement and mischief, “See, I’ve been trying to figure who the ideal candidate would be to match you with but I couldn’t think of anyone in Gravity Falls. Maybe you two can rekindle your romance! We just need to do what we did with Grunkle Stan and show her things to remind her of your time together!”
“Or maybe her memories are stored where the Society of the Blind Eye held Old Man McGucket’s memories? There were a ton of Gravity Falls citizens’ names in there, I’m sure she’s somewhere in that pile.” Dipper offers as a suggestion, more invested in understanding how to restore memory loss from the Memory Gun than Mabel’s romantic plans for her uncle.
Though he had to admit that there was a sliver of him that was rooting for his Grunkle Ford in the romance department.
“Those are excellent suggestions, kids. I’m hoping perhaps talking to Fiddleford today will be one of the first steps into getting her memory back. There is one issue though with your suggestion, Mabel.” Ford admits, slightly crestfallen, “I don’t really have anything left from our time we were together. When she left, she took all remnants of her, photos of us together, letters she wrote to me. What I do have left I’m not sure if it will be effective in bringing those memories back.”
“What is it, Grunkle Ford? Maybe we can still use it, you never know if you don’t try!” Mabel said in reassurance.
Ford hesitated, feeling Dipper, Mabel and Stan’s eyes trained on him, waiting for a response.
Thankfully, your presence saved him in the nick of time, clearing your throat awkwardly. This catches everyone’s attention, Dipper and Mabel’s head whipping around. You stand in the entrance to the kitchen, still clad in your pajamas and your hair tousled from sleep, holding Waddles in your arms.
“Sorry if I’m interrupting, I just wanted to make sure this pig is supposed to be in here. He somehow got into my room.” You say, noticing how Waddles squirms now in your arms as he sees Mabel. You put him down and watch him scurry to Mabel who eagerly scoops him into her arms, nuzzling his pink cheek.
“You’re all good, we were just having breakfast. Need a cup of coffee?” Stan says nonchalantly, grabbing the coffee pot that was by his elbow. You nod eagerly, walking towards him and taking the mug that he poured you. “These are me and Ford’s grandniece and nephew, by the way, since you didn’t get to meet them last night. They’re staying here for the summer.” Stan gestures to the two twins that are staring at you like you had a second head.
“Nice to meet you, I’m Mabel! Sorry about Waddles, he kinda wanders around the house if I’m not awake yet.” The energetic brunette introduces herself. “No need to apologize, he was very sweet. If anything, he got me out of bed to get my day started. I’m Y/N, by the way.” You say with a relaxed smile.
“I’m Dipper, nice to meet you. Grunkle Stan was just telling us how you ended up staying here.” The more relaxed male counterpart to Mabel chimed in, trying to move the conversation away from the topic discussed prior to you entering the room. Ford let out a slight sigh of relief, grateful that he was no longer in the hot seat.
“Well, your Grunkle Stan saved me from having to spend a pretty penny on a tow truck and a place to stay so I’m very grateful for that.” You chuckle, getting used to the term ‘Grunkle’.
“Sooo, Y/N, mind if I do a little Q&A with you? Since you’ll be staying here, I wanna get to know you better!” Mabel said eagerly, mentally mapping out her questions already. You blink owlishly before your eyes flick between Stan and Ford in amusement, “Fire away, Mabel. Though I hope your Grunkles didn’t put you up to this as a little payback for when I interrogated them yesterday?”
“She questioned you too?” Ford says in surprise to his brother who scratches chin mindlessly. “A little bit after finishing up the tour I gave her of the Mystery Shack. This one’s ruthless, no wonder she works for the government!” Stan taunts, causing you to roll your eyes.
“Wait, you work for the government?” Dipper asks, his eyes slightly narrowing in skepticism. You blink at his almost defensive reaction before elbowing Stan in the side who almost chokes on his coffee, “I literally asked you three questions. Don’t listen to him, I work for the National Parks, not the CIA.”
Dipper visibly relaxes and Mabel’s eyes linger on where you elbowed Grunkle Stan, picking up on how relaxed you seemed around him compared to Grunkle Ford. In fact, you had barely acknowledged Ford this morning, standing by the counter next to Stan. Mabel decides to take matters into her own hands, playing matchmaker as she gets up from her chair.
“Well that answers one of my questions. By the way, take a seat, Y/N! You’re our guest and I’m finished with my pancakes!” She walks over to you, pulling you by the hand as you plop onto the chair that is coincidentally right next to Ford. “Thanks Mabel..” You roll with the situation before looking over at Ford who stares at you with what seems to be pride.
“You really made it to the National Parks, huh? That was your dream since freshman year…” Ford says though immediately regrets it as you stare back at him in surprise. “Yeah.. I did. No one really knew about that.. Not even Fiddleford.” You reply, running your thumb over the print on the mug bashfully. “Well, um... I’m really happy for you. I know you must have worked hard to get there.” Ford offers, not sure how else to respond.
You smile warmly, taking a sip from your coffee, “Thanks, I appreciate it. It means a lot coming from someone with 12 PhDs.” You tease at the end to which Ford’s cheeks redden in embarrassment and flattery.
Mabel hops up on the counter next to her Grunkle Stan who mutters under his breath, “Smooth move, kid.”
You turn to look back at Mabel, “Any more questions for me?”
Mabel taps her chin, deep in thought. Her eyes flicker over to great-uncle Ford who continues to stare at you in admiration. She snaps her fingers, putting her match-making skills to use once again, “What would you say is your type in a partner?”
“Mabel! What kinda question is that?” Dipper groans, shoveling a spoonful of cereal into his mouth.
“Wow, we’re getting to the real hard-hitting questions.” You say in amusement, slightly caught off guard but amused. You ponder the answer yourself, wondering if the kids would understand what you mean by this.
“Well, does your generation know what a silver fox is?” You ask with a sheepish grin and a flush to your cheeks, rubbing the back of your neck.
Your answer causes a chain reaction of different responses.
Mabel squeals with an eager nod, looking over hopefully at her Grunkle Ford.
Dipper and Stan both end up spitting out their milk and coffee respectively.
Ford sits at the table, blinking in confusion.
“What’s a silver fox? Is that a new type of species?”
-
After cleaning up the mess that Stan and Dipper had made, you finally start getting ready to head out with Ford to visit your old friend. You stand in front of the bathroom mirror, fixing your outfit before reaching to grab the hairbrush Mabel graciously lets you borrow after you realize that you had forgotten yours in the car.
Stan walks down the stairs, having changed out of his white tank-top and pajama pants into clothes more suitable for going out. He pauses at the open bathroom door, leaning against the door frame, “Hey, while you and Poindexter catch up with McGucket, I’m gonna swing into town later tonight to get you a replacement battery for your car.”
Placing the brush down, you address Stan, “You sure? I can always ask Ford if we could stop by the auto shop on the way back to pick it up.”
Stan scoffs, “Please, my brother’s smart and knows a ton about science-y stuff but he’s hopeless when it comes to cars. Besides, I know a guy, I’ll get you a discount.”
“Alright.. Just let me know how much I owe you, I’m for sure paying you back.” You say hesitantly as you make your way towards the door. Stan steps aside to let you through, “Yeah, yeah,” he says dismissively.
Technically, that guy was Bud Gleeful and that discount was five-fingered but you didn’t have to know that.
“You found your way around the Mystery Shack pretty easily, by the way. Didn’t even have to show you where the bathroom was, I sometimes have a hard time finding it and I’ve lived here for over 30 years.” Stan comments. You realize that even this morning, you walked directly to the kitchen, almost like your feet knew where to go through pure muscle memory.
“Are you ready, Y/N?” Ford’s deep voice calls out, walking down the hallway to approach you and Stan.
“Yeah, as ready as I’ll ever be, I guess.” You say, slightly nervous to see Fiddleford again. What if he didn’t want to see you? What if he didn’t even remember you just like you couldn’t remember Ford?
Ford could see the furrow in your brow, a sign he had picked up through the years you had been together that you were overthinking. He hesitates for a second but places a hand on your arm, snapping you out of your rumination. “He’ll be elated to see you, Y/N. Though to give you a fair warning, he looks a lot different than how he did during our college days.” He says reassuringly.
You nod, smiling up at him, your nerves calmed down for now. “Thanks, Ford. I’m gonna go grab my bag and I’ll meet you outside.” You make your way back down the hallway, leaving the twins by themselves.
“Think she might already be starting to getting some of her memories back just by being here…” Stan muttered, following his brother outside. Ford’s eyebrow raises in confusion, “What makes you say that, Stanley?”
“She knows how to get around the house without even thinking about it. I know I gave her a tour but that was just the showroom and the gift shop.” Stan shares his observation, holding the door open for Ford as they step out into the front yard where Stan’s car is parked.
“Fascinating… maybe her memories may come back more organically than we had thought.” Ford muses before placing his hand out, “The keys, Stanley?”
Stan sighs, rummaging through his jacket before placing his keys in his brother’s hand, “You know I could have just driven you two up to the mansion but someone insisted I give you two alone time to bond.”
Ford squeezes the keys in his hand before smiling at his brother, “I should probably say thank you to Mabel then… and thanks Stanley for bringing her here.”
Stan punches his twin in the arm affectionately, “Whatever, I just better not see a scratch on El Diablo when you two get back.” Ford winces but grins, rubbing the spot on his arm.
Right on cue, you close the creaky door behind you, bag slung over your shoulder as you walk over to the pair, “Alright, I’m ready to go! Sorry, Mabel stopped me on the way out to ask my opinion on what sweater she should wear to the roller rink. Apparently, none of you guys have the taste to give her a valid opinion.” You chuckle.
���Roller rink? I swear these kids turn thirteen and think they can just go around without telling their Grunkle where they’re going.” Stan sighs in exasperation, calling out Mabel’s name as he walks back inside. You follow Ford to the car, sliding into the passenger side. “Sorry if my driving is a bit rusty, Stanley’s usually the one that drives us around when we’re in Oregon for the summer.” Ford apologizes in advance, pulling out of Mystery Shack and onto the open road.
“I mean as long we come out unscathed, I’m not complaining.” You say nonchalantly, taking in the sight of the massive trees that tower over the two way road in front of you.
The two of you sit in silence for a bit, neither one of you knowing how to spark conversation. There lingered an unspoken heaviness, mostly due in part the intensity of your exchange the previous night. Ford desperately wanted to talk to you and yet he was drawing a blank on what to even talk about.
As you make your way up the winding hills, Ford finally speaks up, deciding to ask you more about your work, “So you work for the National Parks? Are you a research scientist or did you go the natural resource conservation route?” He asks, remembering how you were torn between pursuing further research or honing in on your love of preserving nature.
“You’re pretty well-informed about the geoscience field. I just tell most people I look at rocks all day.” You admit, toying with the necklace that you had tucked into your shirt, “I started off in research but I realized that most of my time was spent in labs and studying specimens rather than actually out in the field. I love the parks so much, I was itching to get back out there so I switched to conservation.”
“Makes sense, just studying concepts and theories in a controlled environment isn’t nearly as fun as getting hands-on experience.” Ford chuckles. His eyes flick over to see your fingers rolling around the vibrant orange gemstone attached to your necklace, almost choking on his spit. Your eyes meet his and your eyebrow raises as Ford’s expression is like he’s seen a ghost.
“You okay? Do I have something on my face?” You question, pulling down the sun visor to check your appearance in the mirror. Ford shakes his head vigorously, clearing his throat, “No… I… do you remember where you got that necklace?”
You pause at his query, putting the sun visor back into its original position and glancing down at the sunstone that dangles from the simple gold chain. “Oh this? I honestly don’t remember, I’ve had it for quite some time. Why do you ask?”
Ford takes a deep breath before looking back onto the road, “I… well… gave it to you. We drove up here from Backupsmore to start my grant research. Along the way, we stopped near one of the parks and you found that piece of sunstone. You carried it around everywhere so one night, I took the time to fashion it into a necklace so you’d never lose it.”
There’s a pause before you speak. That pause felt like eternity to Ford.
“You know…I think you were in my dream last night...” You say, staring at the necklace with a newfound understanding. “I was back at Backupsmore and walking to the library. I ended up walking up to someone with their head buried in the books and I called out your name but I woke up after that.”
Ford was not expecting that response, looking over at you in alarm, “This may be a stretch but was there indication in your dream that it was fall?” You nod slowly.
“That was the first time we met. You were struggling with the section on seismic refractions in a physics course that I had taken a semester prior. Our professor recommended me as a tutor.” Ford recounts, his fingers gripping the wheel slightly tighter.
“Jeez… could all my dreams… just be memories?” You mutter to yourself but loud enough for Ford to hear it. “You’ve had other dreams….?” Ford questioned, his mind reeling with this discovery. “Yeah, I’ve had them for years. There’s always someone else in them… but before I can figure out or discern who it might be, my body wakes up.” You admit, rifling through your bag before pulling out a small leather bound journal.
“This is a bit embarrassing to admit but I’ve been keeping track of them here.” You say hesitantly as you hold up the leather bound journal. Ford stared between you and the journal in awe. He had always found preparation attractive and he thinks he may have fallen in love with you all over again.
“Perhaps we can go through some of them and see if it correlates to any memories I have.” Ford attempts to say with a steady voice but there’s a hint of excitement in his proposition. “I honestly would love that… I feel like I’ve been trying to crack the code of these dreams without any key.” You reply eagerly.
Ford makes the final turn up the hill, approaching the massive gates to what was formerly the Northwest Manor. Your eyes widen, staring at the impressive estate before you. You watch as Ford presses on the intercom, “Fiddleford, we’re here.” before the gates open to let you in.
“This.. is where Fiddleford lives? Did he make a breakthrough with his personal computers or something?” You question to which Ford chuckles nervously. “You could say that. Honestly, it’s quite a long story that we can talk about inside.” After parking the car in front of the fountain, Ford gets out of the car before opening the door for you.
You two make your way to the wooden front door, which bursts open soon after Ford raps his knuckles against it. You’re greeted by your friend, who looks considerably older despite being the same age as you and Stanford that you almost didn’t recognize him. Fiddleford embraces Ford first before stepping back to assess you. You gulp, anxiety filling up your system once again.
You’re quickly enveloped into a tight hug by Fiddleford, which you return. “My god, Fiddleford, it’s been too long. I thought you disappeared off the face of the Earth.” You said shakily. You two pull apart as Fiddleford grasps your arms, “Sweet sarsaparilla, look at you, Y/N! You make me and Ford look like old geezers! I’m real sorry I hadn’t reached out until now…”
“There’s no need to apologize, Fiddleford… I’m just glad we reconnected.” You say, a wave of nostalgia hitting you. “Come on in, you two! We got a lot of catching up to do!” Fiddleford says, ushering you into the massive home with his arm before closing the door.
#gravity falls#gravity falls x reader#gravity falls fanfiction#gravity falls x you#stanford x reader#ford pines x reader#stan pines x you#stanley pines x reader#stan pines#ford pines
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Watch Me | Cooper Adams/Abbott x Teacher F!Reader
Synopsis: You can’t always be Little Miss Perfect. Sometimes you need to let off some steam, and Mr. Adams knows just how.
Warnings: Age Gap (Legal,) Reader is in her mid 20’s and Cooper is 46, Implied Murder, Grinding, PiV Sex, Biting, Slapping, Hair Pulling, Use of Daddy, Creampie, Breeding Kink, Mentions of Abuse, Abusive Ex, Dom!Cooper, Infidelity, Cheating, Spanking, Choking, ROUGH SEX (and I am not using that lightly, this is FUCKING ROUGH)
Rating: M
Word Count: 10k
Author’s Note: So I really need to stop writing Cooper in his psycho form. I want soft Cooper….BUT THE PARASITE IN ME WANTS THE PSYCHOPATHY OF COOPER. Also if this makes no sense don’t judge, I took an edible and let my mind take course.
Tagging: @rubyfruitjungle @cherryinterlude @lilly3434 @amethystblackkchaos @rosaleelovesdilfs @babygorewhore @dirtylittlefairytales @redpillbluepill @strangererotica
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You love your job, absolutely adore it. There is nothing better in this world than teaching. Something about mentoring kids and creating core memories that they will look back on with gratitude, is why you started in the first place. The teachers that made a lasting impact on you are also the same ones who believed in you when you said you wanted to be someone, to create and show the world you are capable of. Tumultuous home life crushed your spirit day in and day out, leaving you feeling worthless. At least with your mentors, they made you remember how only you can control your own life. If anyone knows you well enough, they know you need control.
Teaching initially gave you that control when you were fresh out of college; Being able to see kids grow and flourish into young adults was rewarding. Leaving a lasting impact was your goal but, in the state America is in today – being a teacher isn’t ideal. Between mass murders and serial killers – you couldn’t tell which you were scared of more. At first it was a what if, but the further you got into the school year, the more threats that arose, left you on edge. You needed to have a way to blow off steam, you needed a way to put those days of fear behind you. Seeking out a second employer was not ideal, with how tight your schedule already was, it left you no time for you. Which in theory was fine, being a single woman living in Philadelphia was exactly what it seemed; Dreary and bored. You needed that oomph to make you excited again, to live in the moment versus in your head. Chester Springs is quiet, quaint, exactly what you were looking for. A city where no one knows that you are a schoolteacher, a place where they think you are something else entirely.
Entertaining was what you were good at, turning tricks got you through college in Boston. It wasn’t a shameful thing, a girl got to do what she’s got to do. Aquarius is a higher end strip club, to call it what it is. Not a typical hole in the wall joint to mask money laundering. Aquarius was more in the line of escorts – sure there were still pole dancing and private suites but, not everyone could get in. A club where married men come to cheat on their wives, where businessmen always in control let off a little steam, and where stockbrokers come to give a last hurrah before marriage. It was nice, refreshing even to have a place where you weren’t ogled like prey – no, you were respected, in control. It was your haven after a long work week; Come Friday through Sunday night – you were the Queen of them all.
Being the head dancer meant you got to say no to those creeps who snuck in, those who want to get sucked off and fucked before they touch their wives again. You got to pick what music you danced to, who you interacted with, hell you even got to choose your pricing. To be fair you busted your ass off for four years to do so, you earned every moment of your employment. It meant you could live that double life comfortably, be able to drive a Porsche and hire a housekeeper. You were comfortable, no longer struggling. You were eternally grateful.
Friday nights tend to be specialty nights – meaning any group of first responders got half price to celebrate the work they do for the state. The surrounding towns, up to sixty miles out, were invited and treated like kings. As a sign of appreciation, tonight happened to be the Philadelphia fire department’s night to be pampered; The less you knew the better. I mean, your boss never told you that your hometown was going to be the subject of tonight’s praise – just like those guys didn’t need to know you were teaching in their district. Staring at yourself in the mirror, you ran a finger under your lip to clean up your lipstick – the mauve pink color suiting your skin tone beautifully. The music was pumping, and the cheering was growing louder. Tonight was going to be a good tip night – you could feel it.
“Baby girl, you’re up in five,” Moira, your boss sang out – patting the top of your head with a motherly touch. You felt warmth spread through your body; Arousal mixed with nerves. No matter how long you danced, you always got nervous when it was your time to shine. Still, tonight was no different from the last – this was your night. “I’m in control. I have control. I am control.” You spoke to yourself in a soft voice, causing Veronica to rub your arm – praying silently for you. “Lord, please make sure she has the sexiest dance tonight. Please make sure she catches the hottest firefighter and gets a good dick down. And Lord? Make sure her tits pop like you deserve.” Ronnie spoke in a serious tone, causing you to cackle as you stand. “You know I love you, Ron Ron.” You kissed her cheek as you strutted off to her right, causing her to smack your ass in the process. “Show them titties off baby!”
Rolling your eyes, you shed your bathrobe against the coat rack near the backstage entrance, your platform heels clacking sexily against the linoleum. With Halloween only a few weeks away, the club decided to get spooky season started early with your routine. Your sound of choice was Heaven by Julia Michaels – whilst you wore a lacy red number, accentuating your body in every place you adored. The straps around your midsection, thighs, and arms made you feel badass and hot all wrapped into one. Where tonight was to honor the firefighters, you added a little yellow leather jacket to cover your upper half, and a plastic fire caps for the laughs.
Hearing the beat and bass rumbling through your feet, you heard Moira’s voice announcing your stage name. You didn’t see any faces but outlines of figures; Broad and strong. A line of sweat ran down your back from excitement, then ran cold at all eyes on you. Usually, you were never nervous to dance and found it quite relaxing. But tonight, there was a heaviness that loomed in the air. Anxiety crept up your legs, making you shake slowly as you wrapped your left leg around the pole. Doing a fireman’s slide, you spun your body gently – gliding through the air with open eyes, trying to see why you felt so uncomfortable. All the men stared at you like you were an angel from above, like you were the greatest thing on this Earth. But one set of eyes stared into yours with a predatory gleam – one that caused your core to tighten. Staring at you in the direct center of the club, was none other than Firehouse 721’s very own Fire Chief, Cooper Adams.
You had a long, extensive history with Mr. Adams, being his daughter Riley’s teacher. Riley Adams is your star pupil, the student every teacher strives to have. She isn’t an overachiever but, she loves to get those A’s and B’s. Always first to help out a classmate or stick up for her friends, she was a true hero of the seventh grade. In fact, she would often stay after school with you and keep her dad waiting – which in turn would cause Cooper to come in and have weekly progress updates on Riley. There was never animosity with Cooper but, the ways his eyes tended to wash over you, made you burn. A single father of two, working day in and day out to protect the city, he was the whole package wrapped into one. But you knew it was inappropriate to do anything with your student’s parents, you took your job too serious.
One incident happened earlier this year when Riley stuck up for a kid in class, leading for the main mean girl to put slime in Riley’s blond curls. Riley in turn socked her directly in the face, breaking her nose. It turned into Cooper getting into a spat with the mother of the girl – and you needing to mediate. Riley got in school suspension for two weeks, and Cooper was not having it. Though Riley thought her punishment was fair, Cooper thought she shouldn’t have anything against her. Your hands were tied, there was nothing you could do. At the end Cooper understood but, that gleam he is giving you now – felt the same way as that day. Like he was going to eat you whole, and spit you back out.
His ember eyes glowed against the red lights, sparkling with darkness and sex appeal. You felt yourself give out a little moan as you dropped to your knees, running your hands up and down your torso. Tossing your head back as the cap fell off, you rolled your hips against the stage – acting very demure with the song. But your eyes were low lidded, staring at Cooper, watching how his thick thighs twitched with need, his hand readjusting the crotch of his pants. Cooper Adams was staring at you like he wanted to devour you in front of the club, like he wanted to stake his claim and you’d be damned – you’d let him in a heartbeat. Nerves snaked their way across your stomach as you realized the entire firehouse was there – parents of the students you taught, who damn well might’ve known your face. You felt your palms grow clammy as you felt yourself up, your breath hitching. “Breathe. You’re almost done,” you whisper to yourself under the music, closing your eyes as you slid sideways on stage, your ass up in the air as you got your chest as low as you could go.
Cooper’s whole firehouse was watching you like a hot, tossing back and shots and smirks as they watch you. The rain of twenties and hundred-dollar bills felt like magic, knowing you were putting on the best show possible for them. But you hid your face beneath your hair on purpose; You didn’t need this to get out. Once you hit the stage you slid to your back, windmilling your legs as you clack your platform heels; The sound reverberating off the room. Everyone cheered as loud as they could, clapping as the song started to wind down to its end. Yet the entire time Cooper never moved, never took his eyes off of you, and never changed his facial expression. He looked like he was going to eat you alive, he was going to devour you and leave no crumbs. But you couldn’t tell if that glimmer in his eye was rage or admiration He probably thinks I’m a slut.
“Gentlemen give it up for our superstar!” Moira yelled over the mic, causing the whooping and cheers to ring out. Smiling like you weren’t nervous at all, you gave a bow before starting to walk back to the dressing room, your smile dropping to a mortified look – hands shaking uncontrollably as you slid behind the curtain. “Holy shit, girl! You fucking killed it!” Mackenzie called out as Veronica took the stage next, blasting Joan Jett. Macks face slid from a stellar smile to a worried glance as she evened out her lipstick, the baby pink shade complimenting her whole aesthetic so well. Placing the tube down, she came up to your front, grabbing your face between her hands. “What’s wrong? Was it the guys? I know it’s nerve wracking when it’s first responders but you did-“
“They’re from my district, my town.” You cut Mack off, sucking in a deep breath as you felt tears well in your eyes. Looking up to avoid smudging your makeup, you sniffle as you hold onto Mackenzie’s arm for anchorage. “I fucking teach their kids, Mack. Those dads fucking saw me here! No one knows I dance, for fuck’s sake. If they know, if they see…I’m fucked.” You knew one day it was going to happen, that someone, or someone’s you knew would stroll in and see you performing – see your tits or ass on display, and how you worked your way around the club. The day that happened you swore you would get up and leave – school, the club, town – move across the country and start fresh. Change your name, pretend this wasn’t your life before and have endless possibilities. Now? That wasn’t a choice.
“Slow your role there, buttercup. It’s not that big of a deal. I work in Daycare. Ronnie works as a speech therapist. Moira is the principal of a high school in town. It’s not a huge deal. We survive, you can too.” Hearing Mackenzie say that was reassuring but, still the gnawing at your gut made you want to redo your entire life from scratch. “Was it the chief that freaked you out, is that why you’re tweaking?” She must’ve been talking about Cooper – I mean who else would it be? Deep down, you hated to admit it but it was true. Having Cooper, the sexiest dad in town, see you stripped down and showing your sensual side made you feel like you were on fire. The way his eyes would watch every movement, like he was cataloging it in his head; All it would take is for him to say what you do and poof – everything you’ve worked for.
“If you’re worry about him spilling, stop. He was eye-fucking you so hard I’m surprise he didn’t cream his pants.” Mackenzie’s shrill laugh flowed through your ears, just as Ronnie was done. Barbe Girl by Aqua starting blaring through the sound system as Mackenzie perked her breasts up in her baby pink bra, giving you a kiss on the cheek. “Go talk to him, it’ll make you feel better.”
She was right, maybe if you explained to Cooper what you are doing, he’d understand. Probably pull Riley out of your class but that was okay – because at least you tried, and that’s all you could ever do. Sucking in a deep breath, Ronnie grabs the towel from beside you with a laugh – exhaling with a relieved smile. “Dude, DUDE! That fire chief wouldn’t fucking look my way. He’s all yours, baby doll.” Ronnie shook her head with a laugh as she passed by you, heading towards the locker room. It made your stomach flip that Cooper only watched you, not giving the other girls the time of day. It made you feel special, like after all this would be okay. Maybe it would, maybe this is all going to work out just fine.
“Baby doll, you got a private dance in room six. Cameras are off in there, so if you need anything just holler!” Moira shouted over Aqua, using her two fingers to motion you to the private rooms. The relieved sigh you exhaled calmed your nerves, your eyes no longer wavering at the thought of what you’d tell Cooper about your lifestyle. Maybe whoever is in six would take your mind off it – maybe you didn’t even have to see him. I mean its taboo, right? Fire department going to a strip club on the State’s dime. If blackmailing was needed, you knew Moira would stick right by your side. Swallowing down the lump that formed in your throat, you slowly started to make your way across the club to the left side.
The spiral, velvet staircase was a perfect add on to the club – making it feel sophisticated, but also retro. You loved how it felt against your hands and feet as you climbed up, rubbing against the velvet banister. It was the best way for you to ground yourself before doing a private dance. Those could go anyway you wanted – depending on the price. Tonight though? The money didn’t fucking matter – what mattered was clearing your head after the inner turmoil you laid on yourself. To say you were drained was an understatement – you haven’t been this exhausted at the club since your ex tried to kidnap you a few months back, held you at knife point behind the dumpster because you didn’t want to go with him. Never again, you promised yourself never again.
As you reached the top of the landing, you put on your game face. Giving the empty space your very best sensual look. Eyes half lidded, the sway in your hips dropping to a softer cadence, your lips puffed out to plump them a little bit. You were going big tonight; all the stops were going to be let out. They were going to get the best dance of your fucking life, and a little happy ending to top it off. Shit, maybe seeing Cooper did turn me on. You shook your head at the thought, feeling your core sopped at the mental image. Biting down on your bottom lip, you took a deep breath as you wrapped your delicate hand around the doorknob, turning it softly. Closing your eyes you make sure to push the door open and slip inside. The plush fabric on the wood made your heart calm down, putting you in your mental place before spinning around.
“Hi there, sweet-“ you began as you spun around, the smile you plastered on for show slipped – causing a look of shock to cover your face. You felt like a statue; Standing stone still, eyes widening at the realization. The black velvet couch was occupied by one man, and one man only – staring at you with such intensity your body vibrated. One arm draped over the back of the couch whilst the other rested against his thigh, fingers twitching inconsistently. Sunset colored eyes stared intently at you, creased as if contemplating what his next move would be. A plush pink tongue slipped between his lips, pulling his bottom one in between his teeth. Cooper Adams was your special dance of the night, he wanted a private dance, in the one room where cameras didn’t work – it all made sense now. Gulping down the pool of spit that coated your mouth, you stuck your hands out like a frightened animal, slowly walking sideways in the room. You knew he could pounce at any time; The unpredictability was making you weak.
“Sit.” He stated matter-of-factly, patting his muscular thigh. His lips pursed in such a way where you knew he was growing frustrated. At the sight of his jeans tightened in the crotch area, you could assume why he was crabby. “Mr. Adams-“ you began to explain yourself, trying to justify why you were here and why this doesn’t take away from your teaching abilities but Cooper wasn’t having it. Raising the hand that was draped over the couch, he let out a pessimistic laugh, sliding his tongue over his teeth as he never broke your line of sight. “I said, sit. Don’t make me say it again.” The tone in which he spoke was strict, to the point; He said what he wanted now it was your duty to obey. Or else, you knew something bad would happen.
Nodding in submission, you hung your head lower than you would’ve liked, moving graciously in your heels as you tried not to focus on Cooper’s predatory stare. Seeing him like this was new for you – every time the fire department would give the safety assemblies, he was always so happy and chipper. The best thing in his life besides Riley and Logan was making sure the community was safe. He did it with a smile, so excited and proud knowing he was making a difference. That soft Cooper you fell for, like every other teacher, dissipated and instead a greedy, dark man sat in his place. His soul always shined brightly against the backdrop of the city – now it was obsidian, tainted by rage and hunger. It was sexy, in a fucked up way.
As you reached Cooper lap, you stood tall in front of his seated self. Placing both hands on the back of the couch to box in his thick neck, slowly you crept forth to place your knees on the opposite sides of his thighs. You weren’t even allowed to straighten yourself out as Cooper grasped at your waist, pinning your hips to his impatiently. The grunt of approval that slipped passed his parted lips was sent straight to your core, the slick mess made in your panties evident to his treatment. That dark look fell away from Cooper’s face as a shiny smile fell upon him, beaming up at you like you were a pretty new toy. “There, doesn’t that feel better?” There was a sadistic undertone to his words; He was toying with you after all.
Looking down into Cooper’s eyes, you felt your fingertips grow clammy against the plush couch, your breath hitching at his question. “Cooper, pl-” You tried to start again but were met with Cooper tsking at you, chuckling exuberantly at your annoyance. You needed to explain yourself, you needed to give yourself a chance to explain before he got the wrong idea. But every time you were trying to justify your career choices, you were shut out. You knew deep down Cooper wasn’t doing this on purpose but, it felt very fucking pointed. Sighing out in frustration, you sucked your teeth as you watched him, pursing your lips to get your point across. “My, my. Now I knew you could have a darker side but, being a stripper AND a teacher?” he tsked, grazing his eyes along your body as you kneeled still. His eyes met the line of your cleavage, using his thick fingers to rub against the straps that barricaded your breasts. The simple touch made your body ignite. Instinctively you grinded down on him, feeling his hard cock tighten under his jeans. Hissing out at the feeling, Cooper brought his freehand around to smack your ass, gripping hard at the supple flesh. “Bad, bad girl.”
“Mr. Adams, this isn’t-“ You shook your head, a headache booming behind your eyes at the maltreatment. Your vision was growing hazy on the sides as you stared dead on at Cooper, wondering why he wasn’t giving you the chance to say anything and only cutting you off. “What? Appropriate?” He laughed. It wasn’t a laugh you heard before, but one that was chaotic – unhinged to say the least. Cooper’s face contorted into a psychopathic grin, his hand snaking up the front of your body, up your torso, and finally landing on your neck. “What’s not appropriate is not staring at the client while you’re making them rock fucking hard.” He chided as he pressed his thumb and forefinger to your pulse point, causing your head to grow hazy. You couldn’t help that your eyes were rolling back into your head at the feeling of being choked by Cooper. Your life lying in the palm of his hand, he controlled your every move. “You silly little slut, did you like watching me adjust myself?”
It was a no-brained response. You couldn’t hide it any longer. “Yes,” you whispered. The rough nature of how he was grabbing at your throat caused your words to come out soft, timid and shy. The cold metal of his wedding band was delicious in contrast with the warmth of your skin. Nothing like how you were in parent teacher conferences. This time around it was different – you no longer had control of the room but were just another pretty pawn to be stepped on. Crinkling his brow, Cooper shook his head, being unsatisfied. “Uh, uh uh. Louder.” Cooper commanded you to say it again, but wanted it loud enough for him to hear. You knew this was a tactic to fuck with you, to put you right where he wanted this whole time. Being rough like this wasn’t anything new to you – after all this is what you preferred in your sex life. But the way he commanded you was unlike anything else – even how your ex was. Yet he didn’t stop when you said to – you knew Cooper would. “Yes.” It was a choked moan as you met his gaze, growling out softly as the word slipped.
“Good girl, now was that so hard to admit?” Cooper’s hand released itself from around your throat, instead rubbing circles into the column of your throat. You felt the flush take over your body as your blood started to move again. Cutting off the oxygen supply to your brain made you feel foggy, coming down from that now put everything into perspective. That dark, eerie look in Cooper’s eyes was hunger. That glint of something deeper, the restraint he was holding – snapped into a thin corded line, causing you to grovel for him. You hated admitting to yourself that you could cum just from this, right here and right now. This was all anyone in town wanted – a chance with Cooper Adams, the fire chief and married father of two.
“What’s your plan here, Cooper?” You managed to speak with a lilt in your tone, trying to gain back your composure. It was impossible for you to suppress the giggle that slipped out as you asked that, finding it quite hilarious that the one time he let you speak a full question without interruption, is when you ask what his intentions are with you. It was comedic at this point, he truly was fucking with you on such a deep level, it almost felt like a joke. But no, it was psychopathy. You never would’ve pegged Cooper Adams – wholesome girl dad – as a psychopath or having those kinds of tendencies. A rougher, darker side maybe only his wife sees. His wife. He’s married. Was it awful that that didn’t bother you? You never met Rachel and Riley never talked about her. It was always Cooper, Cooper, Cooper. “Nothing, just to enjoy my daughter’s teachers’ company.” The sickeningly sweet way Cooper said that made your blood boil, using it against you in a way. The power trip running rampant in his mind as you cowered. Chuckling out of sheer frustration, you shot back: “Are you going to tell everyone, now?”
“And expose you for being such a fucking whore? Now where is the fun in that?” Cooper pouted playfully, smirking. Your body reacted in such a way to being called a whore that it was morally frowned upon. The way your eyes rolled back as they shut, your face screwed up almost in pain, and your grip tightened now on his shoulder. You couldn’t let him have the upper hand but for fucks sake, you wanted him to. Everything in your life was always about control, why not give that up for a bit. Looking at Cooper’s entertained face, you drew up your best puppy dog eyes – showing the sheen of tears covering your irises as you slightly frowned. “Aw, what’s wrong Princess? I thought you like being degraded. After all, you’re always looking up porn with it.”
That threw you off of your game, your demeanor dropped, and your body was running cold. There was no way in hell for him to know that based on an acute observation, or even a fucking hunch. No, this went deeper. Your brain started to go over every memory you have had lately of this encounter, trying to find a possible solution for why he would know that. “How did you…?” You caught yourself midsentence as you remembered the alert you got from Safari the other night, IP tracking stating that: Your IP address has been profiled by 23 trackers in the last seven days. But how could it be 23 when you have a VPN, firewall protection and layers upon layers of password encrypted searches? It didn’t make sense; did he dabble in cybersecurity before becoming a fire chief? Or was that for fun that he learned to hack?
Cooper saw the cogs turning in your head as you pondered over each alert you received. Not wanting you to figure it out so damn quick, he perked up as he grabbed your waist, drumming his fingers against your thighs. “Let’s play a game. You guess between one and ten, and I’ll show you what you pick. Sound fun?” It was such a random change of pace that your mind instantly was drawn to what Cooper was insinuating. He didn’t give you a chance to think about the why’s when his fingers ran across your body, grazing the line of your panties. As you peered at his overtly cheery nature, you noticed something you hadn’t seen before; Eye twitching usually happened under duress but Cooper wasn’t. He was calm and calculated, composed. No, there was more to his story than he was leading on.
“One through ten. Pick.” You jolted at the commanding tone, moving your hands to push a few strands of his disheveled hair back. Seeing his face so clearly didn’t help the onslaught of questions you had – and it didn’t quell that ache in your cunt. His hands held your hips harshly, promising to leave bruises on your skin. If you even tried to grind down to get comfortable, he would halt any movements. This was his time to play, not yours. “Four.” The reluctant pick brought light back into his eyes, causing that soft smile to reappear. You swear this man was going to give you whiplash with how often he was changing his mood. There wasn’t anything more to it – Cooper scared you in a way where you wanted to be owned by him. It wasn’t a fear for your life, when it should’ve been. You felt like a sick fuck, but it made you so horny to think about.
“Four, my personal favorite!” Cooper exclaimed as he cupped your cheek, using his other hand to grab his phone out of his jeans pocket. You were growing confused as to why he made you pick, and also needed his phone. That is when the realization dawned on you that this game was going to include pictures or videos – of which you were fearful it was of you. That number’s game could relate to a video or picture he took of you tonight, or prior to tonight. It was evident this man did somewhat stalk you – but to the extent? That was lost on you. Gripping his iPhone, Cooper opened an app with a goat’s head, humming to himself as he put in his code.
Just then you heard the moaning of someone on the other side, but not in the way you were expecting. They sounded to be in pain – they were suffering, it sounded like. Oddly it sounded familiar, one you heard only once but, you couldn’t be sure. Before you could ask what was happening, Cooper spun the phone around to show you, muting your end almost quickly. At first you didn’t recognize what was happening since your eyes fell right to survey the background. It looked like a normal shed but, there was something sinister about it. The piping didn’t look like it normally would, neither did the big blue industrial drum barrels sitting next to the chair. That is when you saw it, him, in full picture. Your Ex.
“Oh my god…” you managed to let out, your heart quickening at what you were seeing. Your ex sat bloodied on a wooden chair, a mask hooked up to a tubed device over his face, and the high rising and falling of his chest. Not seeing him for so long caused you to have a visceral reaction, biting your lip so hard it bled. After everything he did to you – the scars he left on your body…you didn’t know how to react other than an animalistic growl of anger and rage. But to Cooper – it may have looked like rage against him kidnapping your ex. “You wouldn’t believe how easy it was to grab this piece of shit. My god, he doesn’t shut up though.” He sighed in contentment, looking up at you with the slightest bit of admiration in his eyes. He was adoring his own handiwork as he was you, best of both worlds right at his fingertips. “Always why? Why me? What did I do?” He mocked in your ex’s whiny voice, causing himself to chuckle. If the circumstances were different, you may have laughed as well at the impression. But not this time, pieces were clicking together in your head that you didn’t want any part of. Yet you knew, it would be easier to conform than revolt.
“Cooper…this is so fucked up.” You managed to squeak your words out as you stared at his phone, seeing the distress your ex was in. You couldn’t, wouldn’t dare to admit it out loud but seeing him in this position made you feel at peace, knowing he isn’t out there, hurting another woman. You hated that you were the last one he did anything to but, in a way you felt good knowing, thinking about that what if. That what if, is what made you realize. “Oh, far from it, baby girl. This is justice. Fucked up would be to bounce you on my cock as you watch him die.” The fact that Cooper said it so matter-of-factly confirmed the suspicion swirling around in your head. The video feed. The mask. The sneaking glances. The possession. The hot and cold moods rotate like a revolving door. It rang true, the video gave it that final nudge in your brain. You couldn’t escape the truth now. “You’re….you’re The Butcher….” The words felt unreal on your lips; You were hoping for Cooper to deny, deny, deny. But alas, Cooper revealed the truth.
“In the flesh. Out of everyone, I was hoping you caught on first.” The way he stated it so proudly shouldn’t have turned you on the way that it did – but you couldn’t shut off the valve of your feelings on Cooper, no matter how hard you tried. The parent you had been crushing on was finally giving you the time of day in the way you wanted. He stalked you. Kidnapped your ex with intent to kill and is making you straddle him while he does so. Cooper Adams is The Butcher. It all made sense now; The shifting of moods, being so calculated and precise with everything. He was a madman, killed over a dozen people – chopped them up and left their bodies in public places, pieces to only remember the victims by. Those calloused hands weren’t just the hands of a firefighter but, a serial killer. Now? You were grinding on his lap, in a strip club, while he held your ex hostage.
Now that you knew he was The Butcher – you didn’t care about your ex, but yourself. If he had you on top of him, at your mercy, what were his intentions? “W-What is your plan…with me? A-Are you going to kill me, too?” You stuttered, automatically jumping to the worst possible answer before thinking any other was an option. That is all killers are, right? They kill, they kill ones they like, even love. They kill randoms out of the blue. They kill popular people. Hard workers. Anyone really. Whoever is easy for them to get their hands on. Why would Cooper be any different? Why would you for that matter? After all, a victim is a victim. No matter how far out it is, one day it may come. Killers are unpredictable with their moods – Cooper showed that right off the bat.
“Now why would I do that?” Cooper asked, confusion and disappointment showed on his face. His eyebrows were scrunched together, his mouth slightly ajar as he stared at you. He was processing it, but not fully grasping. In his head, he thought it was a stupid question to ask. Why would he do something so horrendous to you? When he’s been pining over you for years. It wasn’t clicking in his head why you were upset and asking, until he heard another agonizing moan slip from his phone. “Oh, right. Serial killer.” He said with a nonchalant tone, pulling his lips up and nodding as he looked down. Sighing out, he locked his phone and placed it back in his pocket – looking up at you, making sure to maintain eye contact. Both of his hands came to cup your face, pushing a piece of hair behind your ear. It felt too domestic in this moment – anxiety mixed with being turned on was a weird combination. But you couldn’t, nor you wouldn’t, move your position. This is where you wanted to be, and with who you wanted to be with. Giving that up, would be a mistake deep down. “No, I am not going to kill you.”
“Then what…?” The mental gymnastics was getting to be too much, and quite frankly you were annoyed. It made no sense that Cooper was so cryptic in everything he did now that no one could see or hear him. Only you, and he was planning on keeping it that way. The cameras not working in the room? That had to be him, right? He fucked with them so he could confess without anyone knowing. It made sense, an hour away, where no one knew him that well – just that he is the fire chief. It made sense that people weren’t going to know the name Cooper Adams or think a married man of his caliber was going to frequent a strip club. He was the perfect killer – hiding in plain sight.
Leaning forward as he still holds your face, Cooper grasps at you a bit harder, smushing your cheeks a little bit as he emphasizes the rasp in his voice. “You’re going to take my cock like the good fucking girl you are, and you’re going to let me fill you up.” There was not a singular stutter as he spoke, it was all pure intention on what he was going to do. He didn’t waste a second in explaining himself because his words held enough meaning. Your body, the situation, everything finally caught up to you as you shivered against his body. Your body riddled with goosebumps at the mental image of what he wanted, what he was going to do to you. You couldn’t hide it anymore. It was fucked up how badly your body was betraying you – but the urge to fuck was heavy on your mind. With Cooper? You’d be a fool to turn it down. Your moral compass would never forgive you but, everyone is a sinner, right? “Oh, see? You’re shaking just at the idea.” He teased, leaning forth to press his lips to the column of your neck, flicking his tongue up your throat. The moan you exclaimed shook you to the core, causing your hips to shake.
“I know you’ve wanted to fuck me, because I’ve been dreaming of it since the first day I saw you.” There it was, the confirmation you needed as he bit at your neck, pulling on the flesh with his teeth. The pain hurt so good, you slotted your hands in his hair and yanked. The main was too much for both of you but stopping wouldn’t be an option. The floodgates broke, you couldn’t close them if you tried. Cooper held you down against his crotch with one hand as the other moved to cup the back of your neck, dragging you down to meet his lips in a frenzied kiss. It was electric, the world stopped spinning for a moment as he drank you down. Swirls of golds and blues swirled in your peripheral vision as he deepened the kiss, showing off the passion you longed for.
You didn’t want this to end or stop anytime soon. The one thing weighing heavy on your gut was cutting cold across your body. Pulling back, you spoke in a small tone. “You’re married. That isn’t fair to your wife.” It was true, there was a part of you that hated knowing you were a mistress to this man, who seemed like an overall family guy. Two small kids and a doting wife. Infidelity was never okay in your eyes, and it never would be okay. But there was a small parasitic side of you that couldn’t stop wondering what it would be like. Did he actually love his wife? If he did, what would possess him to cheat on her like this? There was more to it he was not letting on to, nor daring to elaborate on. You wonder if your internal statement was true; He didn’t love his wife and truly has only ever wanted you. But that’s always too good to be true, self-doubt is a fickle bitch. Pouting at your statement, he brings both of his hands down to focus on your breasts, harshly pulling down the cup to expose your pert nipples.
“You’re telling me, you don’t want to feel my wedding ring gliding across your body, hm?” He questioned as he used his thumb and first finger to tweak your nipple, causing a whimper to escape your lips. The cold of his wedding band against the side of your breast made you wet to think about, Cooper could tell hence why he started to glide it over your peaked bud, smirking at the effect it was having on you. Leaning his head down, he captured your right nipple between his lips, suckling softly on the peak. His tongue slid across your sensitive nipple, causing your back to arch. The moan he let out reverberated throughout your body. As he pulled back, you whimpered at the loss of contact but, you didn’t dare to speak. Your voice would betray you. “That you’re making a mess on a married man’s cock?”
That was the final straw for you – that simple question mixed with his opposite hand pulling at your left nipple set you on fire. You moan aloud as you reached down between the two of you, grazing his clothed cock with your hand, running it harshly against the thick outline with a growl. “Please, Cooper.” The action, mixed with your words, caused Cooper to surge forth and capture your lips with his own. The kiss was all teeth, rough and passionate all at once. It was full of want and need without any awkwardness, like this where it was supposed to be all along. This is where Cooper was meant to be. The barrier was broken, there was no turning around now. This night was going to end with him buried balls deep inside of you, and you were going to be such a happy camper about it. “Please, what?” He moaned out loud against your lips, shoving his hand down between your legs, cupping your clothed cunt. “I’m not a mind reader,” Cooper laughed as you rolled your hips against his hand, pressing your forehead to his. The assault on your neck started then, giving him perfect access to kiss the supple skin. Dragging his teeth up your jaw and to your mouth, he pulled himself back a few inches with a smirk – coaxing your response out with one look. “Please, fuck me.” You whimpered, on the nerve of tears. You were a needy mess and needed to fuck him or else you’d burn alive. The attraction, everything, it was too much.
That was exactly what Cooper wanted to hear, it’s what he needed to act upon the impulses, the desires. The genuine smile that spread across his lips as he looked up at you made your heart feel so full, and flutter uncontrollably. “Ah, see? You don’t care about my wife’s feelings.” Cooper moved his hands off of you for a moment to undo his belt buckle, pulling the clasps aside as you undid the button and zipper on his jeans. Pulling it down with a sickeningly fast pace, he soared his hand into his briefs to pull his cock out, smacking it against the front of your pussy through your panties. “No, you just care about me stuffing that pretty cunt.”
His words caused your cunt to clench, but his next actions set you on a path of destruction. Your mouth watered at the sight of his thick, rigid cock, springing out to slap against your clothed pussy. You couldn’t believe the size of him, wondering how that much man was going to fit inside of you. You’d do whatever you had to, to make it fit. That was a promise to you, and silently to Cooper. You started to move to get off Cooper from your straddling position, wanting to slip your panties off and shove them into his coat pocket, so he has a little gift when he leaves. But Coop had other ideas, and he refused to get you get off of him. The lace waistband of your panties slipped softly through his fingers, basking in the way it felt against his hands. You could see the hitch in his breath as he gripped the fabric a little tighter, wrapping it around his finger. Cooper kept twisting until he heard the small elastics in the lace snap, spreading a sinister smile across his face. Just like that, he ripped your panties clean off of your body – utilizing the gap between where his cock and your pussy to push the shredded remains off, grunting out as he sees your wetness.
He gripped the base of his cock to hold it upright, letting you anchor yourself against him to get the perfect angle. Once you hovered over the top of him, slowly you started to guide your hips down onto his, the tip of his cock crowning your entrance. The delicious stretch of his thick head breached your entrance with resistance, too big for you. But you weren’t a quitter and were needing to make him fit. Rolling your hips against the tip, slowly you felt it push further inside of you, your muscles relaxing at the intrusion. “Oh fuck, god you’re so tight.” He breathed out, holding your hips for leverage. Seeing Cooper go pliant under you was the sexiest thing you had seen, all yours for the taking. He watched you as if you were a goddess, basking in all your glory as every inch slowly was seated inside of you.
Halfway down his erect cock, you felt the tip slide directly against your g-spot, seeing stars at the renewed pressure against it. A mewling moan made itself present, eyes rolling backwards to combat the lightheadedness. “That’s it pretty girl, take it slow.” The coaxing from Cooper was only making you wetter, which in turn was making it so much easier to take him. The compliments from the man below you was too hot to handle, you thought you would perish on the spot if he sweet talked you again. Then again, you’d be putty in his hands the second he started to talk dirty. As you slid down the last few inches of Cooper’s cock, you felt the hair at his base rub against you, causing you to roll your hips forward on him, soliciting a delicious man from the depths of him. “Such a good girl,” Cooper keened. Hearing the praise slip from his mouth was causing you to forget everything that happened earlier, what he is. All you could think about was how deep he was inside of you, and how perfect it felt. You were made for him, your body fit with his so perfect. No one would ever compare.
“Shit, C-Cooper.” The words had a mind of their own as it fell out of your mouth, not thinking about anything expect the thick rigids of his cock against your walls. You started to slide back and forth on his cock, letting the pleasure envelop you. Both of your hands reached behind you to rest on his thick thighs; The rough denim burning your palms. It was so worth it though; the pain amplified the pleasure. You were losing yourself with every slide you created, hitting the exact spot you needed to each time. His cock was made for you. Leaning forward, Cooper reached his hand up to cross across your back, pulling you forward more so he could place his forehead between the valley of your breast, resting against the middle of your bra. “I know, baby. I know. It feels too fucking good, doesn’t it?”
“Yes! Yes! Yes!” You replied absentmindedly, letting your pussy do all the talking. Cooper started to fuck up into you, needing to feel the pleasure you were. All the teasing was driving him mad, if he didn’t move but let you do all the work – there would be no fun in it. Sure, he loved watching you take control and use him for your own pleasure but, at the end of the day – you now belonged to him. He was going to be damned if you got yourself off. No, he needed to be the one to make you cum until you saw stars. “You’re taking me so well, honey.” The sweet nature of his words set you off like the Fourth of July – lighting up your entire body. What made it even better was when he smacked that down with his roughened nature, smacking your ass hard enough to leave bruises. “I’ll be breaking in this body really good.”
That was enough for that familiar flutter to work its way into your lower belly, setting you ablaze from the inside, out. He enjoyed watching you go dumb on his cock, letting the pleasure take over enough to where you were drunk on him. The pleasure crested behind his eyes as well, just thinking about all the endless possibilities for the two of you. “Maybe I’ll even knock you up, put a baby in you, hm?” Your eyes shot wide open to stare at Cooper, his own eyes challenging you. He was provoking a reaction, using your breeding kink against you. Sly motherfucker. Your body’s reaction to the thought was involuntary, as were your words. “Fuuuck,” you manage to slip out as you leaned forth to balance yourself in his lap, feeling your body vibrate with every thrust.
The way your cunt gripped Cooper’s cock was too much for you, the pleasure spreading to every orifice on your body. You couldn’t handle it, the stars began to bloom as you thought about having his baby. How depraved you had to be to enjoy it, and how you knew he was going to make it a reality. Cooper tossed his head back as his thumb connected with your clit, rubbing the hardened nub gently with his calloused finger. The sensation only made everything more intense, he couldn’t stop, neither could you. You were a drug, and he was becoming so addicted. “Oh, you really must love that idea. Walking around with a married man’s mark in you. Naughty, naughty girl.”
You’d be lying if you said you didn’t. There was something about being bred by Cooper that healed something inside of you. It was also the fact that he was a husband already, a father, making him a daddy again would be a gift. Yet you knew you should feel guilty – you should stop and walk away. But where was the fun in that? After all, you’re just as sick and depraved as he is. It would be a shame to pass on the opportunity. “I’m fucking obsessed with you. You’re never leaving me, now.” Cooper was egging you on, wanting you to hit your peak soon enough. He knew if you took too long up here then Moira would come and try to find you, cutting this fun short. Now that was something he couldn’t have. He needed all of you. He hoped you knew that you were never getting away from him, he was going to find you in every life. “A-All yours. All y-yours!” It was true, you were all his now, whether you wanted to or not once the sex ended.
“That’s fucking right I am, I own you.” The primal grunts he showered the VIP room in caused your skin to prickle. The sheen of sweat on your face creating an ethereal glow under the neon lights. It felt like magic, like you were high. Every sense was amplified and putting you on edge. It was a raw nerve, masking its way as lust and love inside of you. This was fucked up, so fucked up! But you couldn’t help yourself, you needed more. “I-I’m gonna cum! Cooper, please!” You scream out, nails dragging down his covered chest; How you wish you could press yourself against his body, feeling you fully enveloped within in. Your high was cresting, ready to hits its peak. But of course you refused to cum unless Cooper gave you permission, your body officially giving up on sanity and leaning towards the crazy. “Cum then, baby. Let daddy take care of you.”
That was all you needed to hear to hit your orgasm. You couldn't handle it anymore, you couldn't begin to comprehend what you were doing anymore. The sex, the love making, it was too good for words. What was even better was the supple embrace of your orgasm - tossing you around like you were nothing. Ocean, one big body of water. The nothingness of waves crashing around you - freedom keeping you afloat. You were weightless as you reached your next high, the blissful graze of it all cresting like a wave, wanting to sweep you deeper into the depths of darkness. The spasms of your silken walls around Cooper’s velvety cock made you scream out - almost as if you were being skinned alive. The pleasure was too much, it felt too good to keep it all inside. All of the club no doubt could hear your screams of endless pleasure. He was grateful he could make you come so hard, your nails dragging along the bare expanse of his alabaster back, causing vermillion stripes to appear. “That’s a good girl. Now, daddy’s turn.”
Gripping onto your hips - Cooper started to snap his within yours. Each stroke of his cock inside of you felt like a burst of wildfire; Burning bright and beautiful, claiming you in each way he saw fit. You always heard of the phrase being cock dumb, never knowing the full intent of its meaning until you were in the position to do so. Every thrust being produced by Cooper sent you into an internal frenzy, moans slipping from your mouth like it was prayers to whatever God listened. Begging and begging for your high with every motion, Cooper became intoxicated by you - your gorgeous body on full display, pliable just for him. Knowing no one else would ever see you in this position again - he was eternally yours as you were his. While Cooper was dealing with his internal monologue, you were basking in the glory of his member. Eyes fell closed while your head pressed backwards, going with the flow of each thrust - letting those whimpers be heard through and through. “Fucking whore. Fucking take that!” Cooper laments, huffing with every thrust produced, you look up at him with doe eyes, meeting his gaze easily without hesitation. Something in Cooper’s chest burst with a blinding array of colors and swirls.
“I’m going to ruin you so good. You’re not going anywhere sweet thing, you’re staying right here.” Cooper started, trying to get the words out in between the deep seeded lust you could provide him. But it was his lips against your cheek, to your ear. Your silence coaxed him forth to finish his thought. “Yes!” Your giggle lit up Cooper’s ears, causing you both to moan wildly during the session - his cock never stopping its spears deep within you. Through your moans were moments of broken pants. Rolls of Cooper’s hips inside of you made you toss your head back once more, feeling the curly hairs at the base of his length rub soothingly against your clit - igniting that slow burn with a delicious tang. “Fuck, fuck!” I’m gonna cum inside of you. And you’re gonna take it like a good girl, right? Gonna carry this real good for me?”
In the moment everything felt like it stopped, your body seizing under the sadist touch of Cooper Adams. Hearing how Cooper wanted to breed you, so you hoped, made everything in your body shut down almost instantly. “Yes!” Screaming with the single punches of his cock to your cervix, you yelled out in unison with the thrusts; "Yes, sir!” Leaning forth you made sure to press your forehead to his, shallowing your breaths to be in time with his. Cooper felt your motions, moving a singular hand up to cup the back of your neck. Being in place meant he could watch every emotion run its course. Broken down and exposed, like a nerve to the elements - but you would not be caused any harm, this nerve was going to heal slowly but surely, being aided by your own knight. A perverted, serial killing, sick and twisted knight.
Smiles upon smiles ran for miles as you met Cooper’s expression, seeing the lust even following up in his own eyes - matching the deep seeded swirls in yours. Eruptions of butterflies flew through your stomach; A zoo released from its restraints - pounding around to aid in the overwhelming bliss. You felt safe. Cooper wrapped his arms around your torso to push you far into his chest, causing you to return the grip. There you both were; Cooper pounding into you while both bodies hugged one another.
Both of your highs were dangerously close to exploding, and there was no way you could hold on any longer. Cooper’s too-talented-for-his-own-good mouth was working like a gear to pump out all of the dirtiness you have been craving for eons. The sinful dialect you never knew he could produce slipped between parted cracked lips. Just like that, the world stopped spinning for the two of you. A wave rushed over both of your figures, jolting your souls into the stratosphere. Like a ton of bricks hitting, you with a mac truck, you felt every spurt of your high aid in Cooper’s - causing your interior walls to be painted stark white. Each clench your cunt produced milked this man for all he was worth. As the overstimulation kicked in, Cooper stopped his thrusts as you stopped your gyrations, letting you both take a well needed breather. Both of your foreheads were pressed against one another, basking in the light of the moment. The heavy stench of sex and sweat clung to the clean air. Bated breaths filled the silence of the house, not even a mouse was stirring. Cooper’s cock pulsated over and over again within your velvety walls, giving you a new paint job, one that was sating you like no tomorrow. It was the simple thought of carrying Cooper’s child that made you burst at the seams, knowing he wanted all of Philly to see the mark he left on you. You were never going to complain about it, no you were proud to be his. “Know this, sweet girl. You ever try to run away, leave, or escape me? It will be the last thing you ever do. You’re mine. Here. Now. Forever. In every life, I own you.”
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Old man!Price and kinks ✨
Dollification
No doubt without my mind that Price has a dollification kink. But it is not so extreme. While he doesn't mind you being laidback in your appearance, he does appreciate when you dress up. And because of this, he might end up buying you various outfits, insisting that you wear them even it it isn't a special occasion. He'd never be forceful with his wishes but simply 'coerces' you to wear them saying that you look beautiful in a certain outfit. If he doesn't like what you're wearing, he'll never say it outright but will a sublte comment on how the other outfit makes our eyes pop or makes your personality shine. Bullshit like that so you'll happy wear what he likes.
Orgasm control
Loves, loves, loves choosing when you get to come! That is obviously a given due to his authoritative nature. But, he absolutely loves when you take the reins! He'd prefer a sweet and nuturing typa role from you where you don't explicitly dominate him, rather you sweet talk him into giving you what you want and he yields without hesitation.
"You gonna cum for me, hon?"
"Yeah, birdie... 'm gonna cum... please let me cum, beautiful."
Nipple play
Is enamoured by nipples, especially when they perk up. He can't help but tease them. Flicking, sucking, nipping. He rolls the bud between your fingers after sucking on them for eternity and gives them a harsh tug causing you to whimper and him to smirk. He's realised that not every part of your body can be treated the same. They're all special in their own way and how you react to each on of his ministrates makes him go absolutely feral. If he could, he'd decicate a whole day to them but he doesn't want to neglect the rest of you.
Voice kink
Both you and John have voice kinks. For you, it's his gravelly voice and the power they have to command a whole room. You love hearing him walk you through it, guiding your every move to bring you to the brink of release, only to halt you with a simple, "stop" causing you to huff in annoyance. And for him, it's the way you mewl and moan his name. How you get so breathy and dazed that you can barely say anything. He enjoys when you use your sweet words to get him to do whatever you want. He is down bad for you.
Scent kink
Now, we all love John's manly musky scent. But have youse thought about how much he enjoys your scent?? Like you don't even have to be dousing yourself in perfumes or other shit. Your natural scent is what gets him going. It's what makes you smell like you and he wouldn't have it any other way. He'd bury his face in the crook of your neck or between your thighs before inhaling deeply to engrave your smell into his mind. To him, your scent feels like home, something worth coming back to. He cherishs every moment of it as it keeps him gounded and shielded from the world around him even if it's for a mere second.
Praise kink
Being the exceptional leader he was, John was definitely no stranger to compliments. Whether it was from the higher ups or from their wives during his younger days, he has heard it all. But nothing comes close to how you praise him, with so much affection and love. It's almost impossible to comprehend that there is someone out there who loves him so much in this lifetime. During sex when you praise him on how good he makes you feel, he can't help but close his eyes for a second as he lets your words ring in his ears, savoring how they made his body feel. Receiving prasies from his birdie is better than any other drug out there to ease his pain and he'll do everything in his power to keep those praises falling from your mouth.
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A Union of Ice and Stone (blurb) | Cregan Stark
A/N: I am struggling to find muse to write my fics recently but guess who has random blurbs in the drafts 🤺 enjoy some cregan smut that was based on auois while I work through the next chapters
TW: Smut, implications of prior SA, triggering themes that may be upsetting for some readers — please do not hesitate to reach out should you find the themes lightly touched on triggering, I am more than open to supporting readers who are affected by my content and creating a safe space in which I am either a direct source of support OR I can direct you to the appropriate resources. Please read at your own discretion.
“I’m not going to force you to consummate a marriage you did not even want in the first place,” He grumbled from the settee, “That is not the kind of marriage I want— where you feel you have no choice in the matter.”
“And you actually value that? My willingness to participate in this marriage?” She asked from where she stood over the writing table, a trinket in her hands that she fidgeted with while she watched him. His back faced her, not looking at her as he watched the fire.
“Yes,” He answered.
“And what if I choose never to?”
His head turned slightly, looking at her from the corner of his eye as he then looked down, “Then I suppose that is what your choice to make, my lady,” he said, turning to look again at the fire. A silence befell them, her fingernails picking at the paint of the miniature horse that had been gifted to her as a child; an anxious habit she hated — she did not trust his word, or trust his sincerity that he meant it. No man in their right mind would mean it, that they cared not for bedding their wife — she had heard the horror stories as a girl of men who forced themselves on their wives, regardless of their pleas — a thought that made her shudder. She let out a quiet sigh, setting the wooden horse down back on the table and approaching him, circling the settee he had found respite in, his eyes briefly lifting to look up at her as she stood to his left.
“And does it upset you that I am unable to offer to you my maidenhead, as a husband expects of his new wife?” She asked suddenly.
He lifted his cup, taking a slow sip of wine and looking away again — he was not a man of eye contact she had come to learn, unless it was deemed necessary. Cregan paused, the weight of her words settling between them. He placed his cup down carefully, then finally turned to face her fully. His voice was low, steady, but filled with a sincerity she had rarely heard from a man.
"Then I would expect nothing from you that you do not willingly offer," he said, his gaze meeting hers, unflinching. "I am not like those men you’ve heard of. If all you can give is your companionship and trust, that is more than enough for me."
He let the words linger, his expression softening, "Your worth is not tied to that. I want a partner, not a prisoner."
She warily eyed him, eyes narrowing as she processed the reply — she followed where his eyes had previously turned to, watching the flames lick and stained the stone walls with soot, her chest rising and falling with a deep sigh of air, “You are a kinder man than most, Cregan Stark,” Lysara stated, her voice soft as she moved to take a seat in the small space that remained in the settee; her bare shoulder brushing his as she folded her hands in her lap. She could feel his eyes still bearing into the side of her face, warmed by the intensity of his gaze and fidgeting with her fingers — she twisted the bracket that remained around her right wrist, hold and glimmering in the light; she turned just enough to angle her head towards him and find his eyes.
“I wouldn’t consider it to be about kindness, my lady,” he replied, his eyes searching her face.
Her mouth twitched upwards in a small hint of a smile, “Then what might you call it?”
“Decency, I suppose.”
It was a simple reply, but there was no hesitation behind it; unwavering as he looked forward. She took the angle to eye him up close, her eyes following the outline of his face and drifting down every feature — she followed the strong structure of his brow and nose, his cheeks — past his mouth and stopping at his jawline; soft but masculine in a way that could have made any man envious and any woman lustful. His hair had loosened from its pulled back style, the long strands falling into his face as he drummed his fingers against his thigh. She could have fared worse — her father had tried to match her with men twice her age in her youth, old enough to be her father, aged and scarred and mangled by battle. She sucked in another breath, finding his eyes as he turned to look at her again, his eyebrows twitching curiously. It scared her half to death, the idea of approaching him — but she felt emboldened by his words as she unfolded her hands and moved towards his lap; his eyes following her. Her thighs straddled his hips, hands finding his shoulders and nudging him back to allow her more space while resting his hands on her hips as though it was a reflex.
She smoothed her hands along the fabric of his undershirt, the cotton rustling under her touch as she slowly dipped her hands to his chest and found the base of his throat; stopped at his collarbones, her face hovering over his. Despite the gnawing anxiety in the back of her head, threatening to let out a panicked cry, she found herself able to swallow down that fear and trust him fully.
His head had tilted to look up at her from his position, eyes on hers as she paused, unsure how to proceed — suddenly she leaned in and pressed her mouth to his, the kiss something slow and exploratory, gauging his response to her as she leaned forward and into him. His mouth was hot against hers, skilled and confident as she felt his teeth gently drag along her bottom lip; her right hand coming to his nape as she shifted forward in his lap to press flush against him until his back was forced against the back of the chair, broad shoulders being traced by her hands.
His head tipped, forcing her chin up with his nose in order to press her throat with searing hot kisses that elicited a soft sigh of pleasure, fisting handfuls of his shirt between her fingers. His hands crept underneath her nightgown atop her thighs and stopped at her hips, leaving her partially exposed to him — her back arched into him, head lolling back as he pushed a hand up along the expanse of her backside and up her spine until it pressed to the small of her back as her hips pressed into his. His mouth ceased, withdrawing from her and letting out a sharp breath of air as she cupped his face and held it between her hands, his lips parted as he looked at her, “Tell me to stop…you do not have to welcome me into your bed if you do not wish it,” he quietly said, “tell me to leave and I will go.”
She hesitated, her thumb brushing across his lips, “I cannot.”
The words seemed to spur him on, his arm wrapping around her and pinning her against his chest as he maintained that restraint she had come to know him for; his nose brushing hers in the little space she was allowed, “Then tell me to stay,” he said, his voice short and breathless, “please,” He begged.
She didn’t have to hesitate, “Stay,” she echoed.
“Thank the Gods…” he breathed out, a smile coming to her face as his lips brushed up along her neck to reclaim her mouth. Cregan’s hands quickly bunched her down around her hips — she reached down fumbling to put enough space between them and undo the laces of his breeches; shoving them down was the hardest feat of the task, proving difficult as she had to lift enough for them to be pushed down his thighs. Eager hands grabbed the front strings of her shift, yanking to undo them and undo the fabric enough that more skin was exposed to his mouth, teeth and tongue tracing the skin as he cupped her breast in his palm through the fabric, her hand right instantly coming to her mouth and licking her palm before she reached again between them; her hand gently wrapping around the base of him and moving up and down the length of him with a slow steady pace that forced a low moan from his mouth. His eyes found her, mouth agape as she pressed her forehead to his.
He was already breathless, panting against her mouth as he stilled and paused his movements. With all the restraint he could muster, wanting nothing more than to go as slow as he could in case there lingered any trace of doubt or hesitance to have him; he pressed forward and slowly slid his hands up her sides, the fabric bunching around her waist with the movement until his hands cradled her ribs; his firm hold sliding around to her spine — he itched to discard the fabric but halted himself from bunching the fabric further. Lysara seemed to sense his hesitation in undressing her more than was necessary, her hands withdrawing from him and earning a discontented sigh that could have swelled her ego — to see the internal battle between his pride and restraint that held him in place, his hips subtly shifting under her at the loss of contact; she took the fabric of her shift from his hands and stripped it over her head, allowing it to fall to the floor by his feet that planted flat against the marble floors. The room was filled by a soft rustle of fabric, her back warmed now by the heat of the fire behind her, the shape of her hovering over the mountain of a man who sucked in a deep breath and watched her with desperate eyes — it was a subtle change, his usually stoic, reserved facade dropping just a smidge and softening as his eyes scanned down her body; his eyes lingering on her chest and down her abdomen, his right hand tentatively lifting to tenderly brush up along the underside of her breast. His palm enveloped her chest with ease, cupping her and brushing a curious thumb over her nipple, every nerve in her body standing at attention to his touch — it felt pathetic, really, to lean into such a simple gesture; a soft sigh leaving her mouth and closing her eyes — but it felt like it had been forever since she’d known the touch of a man and she hadn’t realized how much she’d craved it.
She allowed herself to relish in the feeling of his hands of her husband, tantalizingly slow and curious like a boy who’d never bedded a woman before — but she knew better. Knew there’d been others, a first and last before her — a wife who had bearded him a beautiful son before — a woman who had known these touches much better than herself. She envied what that would have been like to have been his first.
His fingers traced up her chest, mouth leaning into and pressing to the base of her throat and drawing her back to reality when his mouth found the raised scar between her collarbones. The movement startled her, gasping as her eyes shot open to look at him — she froze, a hand flinging up to his chest as she saw the realization dawn on him, a look flickering in his eyes. Her pulse quickened, holding her breath as it felt suddenly like she could feel his hands on her again — the boy knight’s breath against her neck as he held her in place, threatened by the knife at her throat; feel the weight of him resting heavy between her thighs as he shoved them open, forcing her ankles apart. The feeling nauseated and panicked her, wanting to crawl out of her skin and shove him away.
“I’m sorry, I did not mean…” Cregan said, his voice low. He paused, allowing a beat of silence to pass, his hands on her waist, “I am sorry.”
The only thing that grounded her was the sincere look of remorse in his eyes, his voice a low, soft mumble as he seemed unsure what to do next. She swallowed and sucked in a deep breath that lifted her shoulders, shakily exhaling as she withdrew her hand from his chest, “It’s okay…it’s okay,” she said, voice quiet, “just please…please don’t touch me.”
She wanted to cringe.
Cregan held her gaze, nodding after a moment and withdrawing his hands to his sides, allowing them to find respite against the seat beneath them and its plush cushions. He was quiet and still, letting out a breath that felt relieved, but his eyes held an edge of uncertainty as though he was expecting her to flee from his lap any moment. She hesitated, her hands coming to the hem of his shirt finally and gently pulling the fabric up — he kept his word, hands moving to raise his arms and cautious not to touch her with the movement, his hands falling back to their spot against the settee once the fabric was placed on the chair beside him; her hands gently finding his chest.
Her eyes lowered, fixating on the several little scars that painted his skin — a reminder of the battles and fights he had endured in his short life, ruining the porcelain skin that laid over taut muscles that rippled with movement. She could feel him watching her every move, too timid to find his eye yet as her fingers gently traced each mark, mapping out every ridge and dip, outlining his collarbones and sliding up to his shoulders — there, she found hold, stabilizing herself and keeping her grounded to him. She sucked in another deep breath, finally daring to look him in the eye as she lowered her left hand between them — his jaw clenched, blinking but not moving.
She admired the restraint it took for him not to writhe or flinch as she took him in her hand again, guiding the blushing head of his cock to her slit and lifting on her knees. She caught a flinch then, brushing him through her folds and gathering the slick of her arousal along the tip of him, in his brow; his chest expanding with a deep breath. She slowly sank onto him, the warmth of her walls welcoming him eagerly as she pressed on — inch by tantalizing inch, swallowing him whole until her hips rested flush against his. Her mouth opened in a soft gasp, full to the brink of discomfort and causing a slight stretch that she embraced, his features finally relaxing. His eyelids fluttered, blinking rapidly twice and clenching his teeth as his eyes lowered for a moment, his hands fisting the cushions beneath him as he waited for her to move — a low moan left him, head lolling back against the back of the seat, and withdrawing a sharp breath of air through his nose.
The hand between them lifted, coming to his nape as her hips slowly lifted, sinking slowly again to begin undulating against his — a hot flush spread throughout her, pooling itself in her belly and between her thighs as she pulsated around him, earning another soft sigh. His head lifted from the couch, her hand bringing his forehead to hers with a parted mouth, short pants leaving her mouth. The laces of his breeches pressed into the back of her thighs and rump, a harsh contrast to the smooth brush of his skin, but all the more exhilarating. Chest-to-chest, she thrust herself against him, his chin lifting just enough to catch her lips with his in a sweet kiss that pressed against her bottom lip; she released a soft moan, high-pitched and lewd as it bounced off the walls and reached her ears, her nose brushing his with each movement. A light sheen of sweat broke across her skin, her hips grinding down into his as her eyebrows tugged into a frown of concentration, “Oh gods…” she softly breathed.
He pressed another sweet kiss to the corner of her mouth, a guttural moan rumbling from behind plush lips, an animalistic sound that could have made her eyes roll back. Her hips stuttered, picking up in pace and eagerly using the position to roll her hips against his in a way that caused friction between his pelvis and her bud — she let out a soft cry of pleasure. Her thighs tightened around his hips, holding him in place and attempting to repeat the movement, desperate to once again experience the sensation whilst digging her fingernails into his scalp when she succeeded. Her movements were frantic from that point on, sloppy and enthusiastically chasing that blissful end, her chest heaving with each deep breath she struggled to squeeze in, her moans increasing in volume and frequency with each passing moment as her body grew taut with anticipation.
Her peak washed over her, blinding and searing hot as she let out a sudden cry, her walls squeezing around him as she tumbled forward and into his chest, “Cregan,” she whined.
“Fuck,” He grunted, his breathing heavy and frowning as he slowly worked her throat the tail end of her peak. His hips lifted, thrusting into hers and milking her of every last ounce left within her body.
She blindly grabbed his left wrist, desperate and too dazed by the pleasure to even concentrate on anything more than the desire to once again experience some sort of touch of his. His hand was guided behind her, his palm finding repute against her backside and using the flesh to grip and guide her against him, forcing her hips to continue the roll against his with a mantra of his name leaving her mouth like a prayer. The welcome of his hand emboldened him, sitting upright and away from the back of the chair as his arm wrapped around her waist, his face pressing against her shoulder as he pulled her against him — her hand released his hair to bring her arm around his neck. His hips snapped up, eager and relentless, drawing her close to the brink of insanity as it seemed there was no end in sight, sensitive and screwing up her face. He rutted against her, her nails biting into his shoulder as the heat between her thighs spread like wildfires, her thighs trembling around him, “Fuck- wait…” he muttered.
His face drew back to hers, forehead pressed to hers and closing his eyes. She felt him lift her, attempting to pull her from him, his body tensing under hers, “Nonono…” she breathlessly pleaded.
“I won’t if you do not wish me to,” he muttered.
She forced herself back down against him, his hips hesitating to resume their previous pace as she ground against him, “I want it- I want you,” She replied, “please. I want all of you.”
The simple plea was his undoing, his mouth open in a low groan, snapping up into her with such fervor it sucked the air right from her lungs, clutching to him. Her voice was a high pitched whine, her fingers fisting his undershirt and tensing so hard, every joint in her body ached — her thighs burned, his fingernails biting into her flesh as he flung his right hand back and gripped her backside; Cregan released a sharp grunt, low and carnal as his mouth dropped open with the sound — it was the first time since their first encounter that she saw his resolve break, his stoic facade slipping as he spilled his seed into her.
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i'm back with my obsession with how Luke Newton played Colin Bridgerton.
and i just realised-- the last fictional character i have felt this deep affection for was Peeta Mellark. Another sweet, soft boy. i'm a sucker for self deprecating boys.
i present today, A and B grilling C from S03e05. Colin is an open book from this episode onwards (so much so that we had to choose between understanding his anger at the LW fallout and wanting to thump his head to just talk to Pen).
Also, he's really pretty when he looks so smug and proud for wifing Penelope up.
(i only did Colin gifs but i'm trying something new when creating gifsets. i apologise once more for the rough quality. i'm still learning. practicing with Luke Newton's face is helping me. there is a combination of comments and dialogue below)
Anthony: Devon was very well, but...we have bigger fish to fry. Benedict: Hm.. Colin: Hm...
look at this face. he's so proud!
Anthony: First...(sighs) explain. [Benedict chuckles]
Anthony: Come now, you must admit, it's all rather sudden.
i loved how he recognised that his betrothal to Marina was rushed but that he also passively slagged A and B for what they think of his life decisions
favourite RMB quote
him recognising that his feelings were dormant instead of a thunderbolt speaks volumes to me because he took his time in understanding them. so from the time that he confesses, he was all in because he knows and fully understands Pen was the one for him and no one else.
i'm going to attempt to dissect every Colin speech because i saw his pattern of self deprecation in all of his love confessions. i just love this sweet soft boy!
[Benedict sighs] Colin: Mm... Anthony: Have you said these words to her?
that smug face!
Anthony: Ah, it's swift because you-- Benedict: Are you going to duel with your own brother, or...
Anthony: Well, you are marrying her, and for all the right reasons, it seems. That's all that matters.
Anthony: But tell her.
what a good obedient little brother
Benedict: First...to your wives. Anthony: Congratulations. Colin: Thank you.
people think he smelled his fingers here but i think he was wiping the side of his mouth of the drink he just had
They can never make me hate you, Colin my sweet, soft boy.
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What Will Make You Financially Abundant?
Hi, Hexlings!
This pick-a-card reading is for my Patreon All Tiers. This pick-a-card reading is all about what will bring financial stability and abundance into your life.
This is a general reading, remember to take what resonates and leave what does not. This reading does not supplement your need to seek professional help. Tarot should be used as entertainment and not a for sure answer to your problems but as a guide, a sense of hope, and amusement.
Take your time when choosing your pile. Ask yourself the question and choose the picture that you can’t stop looking at. Listen to your intuition.
Extended Patreon Includes:
What do you need to let go of to bring this to fruition?
What will this abundance bring or gift me?
Extra Messages
MasterList
Patreon Link
Ko-Fi Donations
Pile l:
What will bring you Financial abundance? Tarot: 4 of Pentacles, Knight of Cups, Strength, 4 of Cups, King of Swords, Ace of Swords
Following your truth. I know you are probably looking for a straight answer like me saying your current career, a sugar daddy, or the lottery but pile l you are what will bring financial abundance to you. A lot of you are constantly sleeping on the many ideas that spirit has given you because you are either too scared to take the leap, don't believe you are good enough, your idea isn't good enough, or you believe it's already been done before. Either way, you are the key to bringing in this abundance into your life by acting on the ideas that come to you no matter how ridiculous or "bland" they may seem. You are basically sleeping on your own potential and what you can bring into your life. Some of you are even hold yourself back by having a scarcity mindset, not believing that you can bring in financial stability or abundance. Stand in your power or for a few of you stand in your purpose that keeps knocking at your door that you keep ignoring because of fear. This reminds me of a pile in my previous reading. I believe it was pile 3 from my "What Do You Still Need to Heal From?" Reading. Wake up. Smell the coffee and get to work. Stop putting off your ideas. Stop ignoring your ideas. Stop ignoring the path that keeps popping up in your life for you to take. This reminds me of the scene from Barbie where she didn't want to find out why she was "malfunctioning" but she had to find out because if she doesn't she would end up like weird Barbie. This is you pile l...if you don't walk the path you were meant to walk, listen to your ideas, and release this scarcity mindset...you will continue to struggle. Patreon Post Link
Pile ll:
What will bring you Financial abundance? Tarot: 10 of Pentacles, Ace of Pentacles, 3 of Cups, 4 of Pentacles, 4 of Cups, 2 of Cups, King of Wands
Sugar Daddy by Qveen Herby is playing in my head as I try to listen for your message pile ll. For some of you this is between a wealthy benefactor or you marrying rich. Especially with the 2 of cups being a card mostly related to romance but it can be used for business opportunities. Another song playing in my head is Finer Things by FEYI. This is my materialistic pile that wants the tips and trips to the island - Money Honey by Lady Gaga. You are all about living a luxurious lifestyle one way or another. You may resonate with wanting a soft life than constantly always being in your masculine energy and bossing everyone around. For some of you, you don't want to work because you believe that you were meant to be some CEO, NFL, NBA, or Tech's spoiled Girlfriend, and others, you want to have the option to work. Maybe you want a small side business like most Trophy Wives living in Beverly Hills where they have a side business to keep them busy instead of always shopping. I can already see you sitting at a cafe, or a spa trip, and international trips with your closest friends. You're surrounded by your spoiled girlfriend friends living the good life sipping champagne while receiving just because gifts from your lover and even push presents for those who want to be a stay-at-home wife. A push present is where you get a gift for your hard work in carrying a child. This pile reminds me of the TLC special that used to run called The Secrets of a Trophy Wife with Jennifer Stano and Layla Milani (I love both of them, especially Layla) her husband absolutely adores her and that's what you want pile ll. (Click the show name for the show trailer of what I was talking about). You want that soft life where you are adored, pampered, and living life of luxury filled with beautiful things and love. Patreon Post Link
Pile lll:
What will bring you Financial abundance? Tarot: The Fool, High Priestess, The Sun, 4 of Wands, 10 of Wands, The Hermit (reversed), 2 of Wands (reversed)
This is more my spiritual, philanthropy, and humanitarian pile. What will bring you financial abundance is walking in your purpose where you were meant to help others in some shape or form. This could be you working in the medical field, being a lawyer, a spiritual guru, life or spiritual coach, tarot reader, dietician/herbalist, whatever it is you were meant to make your abundance by being of service to other people. I feel some of you know this but you don't want to answer the call because of fear or because of the amount of hard work that comes along with doing this kind of thing. Yes it is taxing some days on the soul but overall all this is what you were meant to do, help others. Bring awareness to certain things in life that will get people talking. I don't want any of you to think the list of occupations is only it, it can also be a techer or whatever else occupation where you are making a difference for the future and in others lives. But it is something that will be hard work to the point some days you will question if it worth it because of how much you have to do in order to bring in this success but you will always be reminded in some form that it is definitely worth it and to keep going. Patreon Post Link
Pile lV:
What will bring you Financial abundance? Tarot: Ace of Swords, Ace of Cups, 3 of Pentacles, 7 of Pentacles, 6 of Pentacles, 6 of Swords
This pile is a mixture of walking away from your current job for something better, following a business venture, or even just doing freelancing (Etsy, Fiverr, Upwork, etc). I don't know what you are up to pile lv all I know is that you are unsatisfied with where you are currently because of either a toxic workplace or knowing that you can make more money elsewhere but aren't sure where to start. Here is your sign to leave and go where you are meant to go. Again this is a general reading and everyone has a different job. Leaving your job for a better environment and higher pay is one thing but for most of you I feel you want to open your own business, or just freelance your work or maybe even work from home is what I am hearing for a few of you. Either way, this idea you have is completely doable it just involves you leaving where you are currently at. Some of you aren't scared you just aren't too sure about the future and just need a push to get there while others of you are waiting for a sign or a more solid reason to leave because you listen too much to other people who wouldn't understand why you left because of XYZ and I am here to tell you to just do you. You do not need to answer to other people on why you left a job to pursue something better. Not every wave was meant to be chased or followed and this goes for where you are currently especially since you are miserable where you are now. Patreon Post Link
Thank you for liking and reblogging my readings. I always appreciate you guys on here and on Patreon.
Stay safe and be blessed
#spirituality#tarot reading#witchblr#tarotblr#tarotcommunity#pick a card#tarot cards#pac tarot#pick a pile#pac reading#pick a photo#pick an image#patreon
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Hi! I really enjoy your posts and I was hoping to see if you can answer this question for me. I want to write an Arthur x reader fic, but I want to try writing a more canon Arthur instead of a fanon Arthur. So if you're able to, what do you think Arthur would be like as husband or partner? Thank you! 🩵🩵
Arthur as a Husband (Arthur x Fem! Reader)
Thank you so much ❤️ I'm glad you like my posts, that makes me happy ❤️❤️
And boy, that's kinda a loaded question considering how vast the Arthur x Reader side of the fandom is, so this might be a bit controversial but here we go:
Also, these are all of my thoughts based on my past posts on Arthur. None of them are actually canon as far as I know nor am I presenting them to be canon. These are all just my thoughts based on what I've noticed in the game.
I genuinely think that Arthur would be a great husband BUT he'd be a great husband in the context of the 1800s.
He would never lay his hands on you. He would never disrespect you. Any man try to do anything to you, Arthur would go ballistic. He'd always defend his wife from disrespect. He would always carry your luggage. He would always be a gentleman and assist you in getting on a horse or a wagon. He'd make sure you're comfortable in any way he can. He would never want you to over exert yourself. He would love you to the point of devotion and given how his devotion works for the gang, it'd be priceless. He'd make sure to treat you to the fullest on every date. He'd want to impress you. He would love you most ardently and most fully. If he had sons, he'd make sure to always set a good example on how men should treat their wives/partners.
Very sweet, I know, but again- this is in the context of the 1800s.
I think Arthur, give his attitudes regarding gender roles, would be suited with a woman who believes in the same thing, which given the time period wasn't rare.
Arthur would protect, provide, and do all the traditional things that men were expected to do and he'd do them well enough to where you would never have to worry about things like money, protection, or him taking care of you and honoring you. He'd love you to devotion.
But where he'd do a man's duty, he'd expect you to do the woman's duty, and just how he'd love you to devotion, he'd expect the same. He would never let you do "men's work" if he can help it, unless y'all are living in a super tough environment where you would need to help him here and there, but he'd still do the vast majority of the hard work, and he'd expect a clean place to live, food, and all that domestic stuff from you. If the both of you are able to connect with that dynamic, than Arthur would honestly be a phenomenal husband. He'd be the model husband in the traditional relationship.
I also think respect would be a big thing too. You'd probably both tease each other and love it, but there has to be respect and understanding otherwise he would go off. Note how quick he was able to go off and raise his voice at Mary when she started disrespecting his life style yet chooses to want to use the skills he attained from that lifestyle to help her with her father. He also does it in public where everyone could hear and he only stops when he sees that it was deeply distressing to Mary after she asks him to be kind to her. I realized pretty quick that Arthur is not as patient or pacified as John when Abigail chews into him.
However, I also think he'd be very understanding and open minded to you if you seriously want to talk to him. Communication would be key between both of you and he'd try to understand your thoughts as best as he can and try to make you happy if he could, but again, he'd also expect the same of you.
It's a two way street in different ways. That's the best way I can put it. He'd love you to devotion, given that both of you are comfortable and happy with that traditional dynamic. Arthur would protect you, provide for you, make sure you are always comfortable and never destitute, and in return, he'd expect you to be there for him.
Hope you enjoyed that ❤️ And again, these are just my thoughts based on what I've noticed in canon. Happy writing! ❤️❤️❤️
#rdr2#red dead redemption 2#arthur morgan#arthur morgan x reader#arthur morgan x female reader#character analysis
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Dealing with Unwanted Attention - The Hashira
An exploration of how the Hashira (+bonus) help you deal with unwanted attention from a neighbour.
Modern!AU!Demon Slayer (and female!reader).
Adult!Hashira (except for Muichiro and Tanjiro and co who are all teens)
Rating: T
Pairings: Nothing explicit but suggestive... (aside from Tengen&wives)
Warning: swearing, some violence/threats, mention of possible stalking (they've been staring at them for a while), slight poisoning, neighbour being a creep, mention of them wanting to watch women make out.Un-beta'd.
Word count: ~ 4800
Notes: Based on true events (mainly the neighbour staring and stopping the reader to confess their feelings). I wasn't planning on writing this in 2nd person pov, but it kept trying to change into it as I wrote, then when I was trying to choose between 2nd and 3rd, my friend chose 2nd and a random wheel picker chose 2nd...so I gave in to the universe. This got long. Enjoy!
Please let me know what you think and if I got the characterizations right. One of my fave lines I've written is in this, see if you can guess lol.
What they arrive to:
You try to be polite to your neighbours. There’s no need to be rude, even if you’d rather be left alone by them, but you didn’t expect it to lead to this. You know the man has been watching you. You could feel his eyes on you when you were outside and he was on his balcony, but you’ve never said more than a thank you to him for holding open the door for you so you’re not entirely sure how you’re in this mess.
He’s confessing to you. This man that you’ve never officially met until right now, who might actually be younger than you, who is telling you he’s an alcoholic but that he’ll change. For you. How does he think this is appealing? You’re trying to find an exit, you don't want to be completely rude since you live in the same building and you’re likely going to see him again, but you want out. Now.
The reactions:
Sanemi
“Who the fuck is this?”
You let out a breath at the voice, relief setting in deep in your bones. “Sanemi,” you turn with a smile, grateful for his timing.
He’s not looking at you. His eyes are on the man standing in front of you, who’s still trying to reach out to touch you. Again. Sanemi moves, stepping forwards until he’s in front of you, blocking the man from your view. He stares at you for a moment, taking stock of the relief he can practically feel radiating from you. “Are you ready to go?” he asks. You don’t have any plans, but you don’t care. You’ll follow him anywhere right now.
“Yeah. Sorry to keep you waiting.”
“Tch. You should be,” he says. He sounds irritated but you know him better by now.
“Excuse me,” the man behind him interrupts. “We’re in the middle of something.”
You watch as Sanemi’s expression shifts into something slightly murderous as he slowly turns to look at the other man. “Did I fucking ask?” The man steps back and Sanemi takes the motion to move forward, getting into his personal space like he tried to get into yours. “You know him?” Sanemi directs the question to you despite not looking back.
“He lives here.”
“I’m introducing myself,” the man says. “We’ll be friends.”
“Friends?” Sanemi scoffs. “She has enough friends.” He steps forward again, forcing the man back. “You ever make her uncomfortable again or even try to touch her again, I’ll break your fucking hands, got it?”
“Uh, yeah.”
“Good. Fucking creep,” Sanemi turns back to you, ignoring him. “Come on.” He waits for you to move, keeping himself between you as he leads you away from the building. “He ever bothers you again, you tell me.”
You grin up at him. “I will. Thank you.”
“You just got lucky I showed up.”
“...why did you come by?”
He doesn’t answer.
Shinobu
“My my, what’s this?”
You turn to look at the voice, relief setting in that at least you won’t have to do this alone. Shinobu doesn’t offer you a hug, but she stands next to you, glancing at the man before looking back at you. “New friend?” Shinobu asks, a light smile on her face.
You know better than to assume that your friend is being polite. “A neighbour,” you confirm, ignoring the flash of anger you catch on the man’s face. Great. Another thing to deal with.
Shinobu hums lightly before she turns to the man. “Is there something you needed?”
The man blatantly looks over her before smiling. “I am introducing myself. Hopefully, we can be friends. All of us.” He is either unaware of the danger the small woman presents or ignores it. Either one marks him as an idiot.
“Oh? Are you incapable of making friends?”
He blinks in surprise and you know he’s unsure whether or not to take offence. Shinobu has a way of saying things in her light voice that most men don’t realize are as cruel as she intends them to be. “What?”
“Are you unable to make friends?” she asks again, smile still in place. “I assume that’s why you’re cornering a woman who’s clearly not interested. It’s a bit pathetic, don’t you think?”
“Pathetic?” he catches the insult and scowls at your friend.
“Yes,” Shinobu nods. “Does that make you angry? There are ways to fix it, that don’t involve my friend.”
“I’m not pathetic! I was–” he’s cut off as he reaches forward. Shinobu’s hand grabs his wrist before he can reach you. He tries to pull back and frowns slightly as her nails scratch him as he pulls away. “I was introducing myself,” he continues.
“Then you’re done and now you can leave,” Shinobu nods. He looks as though he’s going to protest but he sways slightly before blinking rapidly.
“Did you do something?” you ask Shinobu, who looks at you innocently. You know better though.
“Hmm…it might be a reaction to the latest experiment. Perhaps it got on my nails. I’m sorry,” she smiles at the man. “You should be fine with some rest. It’s not nearly enough to be fatal.”
The man pales. “What?”
“You should go,” Shinobu says. “Unless you’re willing to be a test subject. I’m sure no one will miss you if you’ve cornered women before. Perhaps you should be more careful, no?”
The man basically runs from her and you watch as he leaves.
“What was really on your nails?” you ask, looking at Shinobu.
“A mild paralytic. He’ll survive,” she says. “I came to ask if you wanted to join me for dinner?”
“After that? Absolutely.”
Gyomei
Someone calls your name and before you can even turn to look, you see the man in front of you blanch. You know the voice and it’s entertaining to see firsthand how intimidated someone can be by your friend behind you. Especially when you know that he’s the kindest one of you all.
“Are you alright?”
“Gyomei,” you greet warmly. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to see if you would join me for the afternoon. Are you busy?”
You look at your neighbour who is still staring at the tall man in shock.
“Oh,” Gyomei says. “My apologies for interrupting.” He turns to the man. “I am Himejima Gyomei.”
Your neighbour introduces himself and you try not to be annoyed at how he’s stepping back now that someone else is here. Especially when it’s another man. “Are you friends?” your neighbour asks.
Gyomei looks down at you. “I am very lucky to have her in my life.” It’s not an answer and you have a feeling he’s done it intentionally. Whatever. You’re not going to complain if it gets you out of this.
You smile up at him. “I think I’m the lucky one,” you say. You mean it too. Gyomei is a calming presence in your life, someone steadfast that you know you can rely on. He rests his hand on your shoulder and you relax under it. You’re safe with him.
He turns back to your neighbour. “Please, continue your conversation. I can wait.”
“No,” your neighbour says. “It’s fine. I didn’t realize…” he trails off before wandering away without saying goodbye.
“Are you alright?” Gyomei asks again.
“Yeah,” you say. “I am now.”
Obanai and Mitsuri (because ofc they're together)
You notice when his gaze shifts from you to something behind you. Then you hear it.
“You’re outside! Did you know we were coming?”
You turn to see Mitsuri heading towards you, Obanai behind her, his eyes already on your neighbour who is staring…at Mitsuri. You turn and move, just enough to block his view. Mitsuri doesn’t have a problem showing off any of her assets, but that doesn’t mean your creep of a neighbour could stare. Ew.
Misturi crashes into you with a hug, as though it’s been years since you’ve last seen each other and not days. You hug back just as tight, grateful for the company.
“What are you doing here?” you ask.
“We came to take you out!” Misturi pulls back and motions towards Obanai. “We missed you!”
You weren’t sure if that was the truth but a quick glance at Obanai shows that he’s moved to stand between you two and your neighbour. He nods toward you and you can’t help but smile back.
“Where are we going?” you ask.
“Dinner,” Obanai says.
“Excuse me!” your neighbour cuts in, moving to the side so that Obanai is no longer blocking him. "Hey, we were talking.��
“Oh!” Mitsuri turns to face him. “I’m sorry!”
Obanai glares at the interruption. “Who are you?”
“Her neighbour. We were just getting introduced.” He gives his name again, this time reaching for Mitsuri’s hand. He does not get far.
“You often touch people without them wanting you to?” Obanai asks, his grip tightening on the man’s wrist. Your neighbour tries to pull back but is unable to.
“He was just introducing himself,” Mitsuri says. “Weren’t you?”
“Of course!” Your neighbour says. “Can’t people be friendly?”
“No.”
You have to hide a smile as Mitsuri giggles at Obanai’s response.
“Go ahead,” Obanai says. “I’d like a word with your neighbour.” He doesn’t look at you, keeping his eyes on the man whose wrist he’s still holding.
“Okay!” Mitsuri grabs your hand and starts pulling you away. “Nice to meet you! Don’t be too rough, Obanai, okay?” Once they’re far enough away, Misturi lets go and looks at you. “Are you alright? You looked uncomfortable.”
“Yeah,” you say, smiling softly. “He came out of nowhere. I’m glad you were there.”
“Don’t worry, Obanai will let him know you’re not interested. Besides, you have us!”
You hug Mitsuri again with one arm. “I do!”
Muichiro
You step back as your neighbour moves forward, reaching for your hand again. Why does he keep trying to touch you?
“I don’t think she likes that,” a voice comes from the side. Both of you look and your face lights up when you see who it is.
“Muichiro! What are you doing here?”
His head tilts slightly as he looks at you. “You said I could come any time.”
You smile slightly as you nod. “You’re right, I did.” The kid was always welcome but it was rare to see him without his twin. “Where’s Yuichiro?”
“He said he’d come later. He thinks he’s figured out a move that will beat me in shogi.”
“Is this your brother?” your neighbour cuts in. He smiles at the younger boy and introduces himself. Muichiro ignores him.
“Are you going out?” he asks. “Can we join you?”
“Yes,” your neighbour adds. “We can walk with you. Get to know each other better.” You recoil from him reaching for you again and step back.
“Not you,” Muichiro cuts in. “You are not invited.”
“What?”
“You’re not invited,” the kid says again. “I don’t think you should touch her anymore. She doesn’t like it.”
“Listen, brat, no one asked you.”
“Hey!” you cut in, scowling. Why was it always easier to defend someone else than it was to defend yourself? “He’s right. You can’t just invite yourself. Thank you, but I’m not interested.”
He reaches for you again but Muichiro knocks him over as the boy moves forward. “She said she’s not interested.” Muichiro stares at the man on the ground for a moment. “You shouldn’t bother women who aren’t interested.” He looks back at you. “Should we call someone?”
“It’s fine,” you say. “Come on, let’s go meet Yuichiro on the way. I’ll buy dinner.” You both leave the man to pick himself up and you silently pray he gets the hint.
Giyu
You almost don't hear your name being called. The lack of reaction doesn’t stop Giyu from moving forward and standing next to you.
You look up at him in relief. “Giyu!”
“I called,” he says. He glances at your neighbour who is watching you. “Are you busy?”
“No,” you shake your head, hoping that he’ll be able to at least get you out of this. Even as hopeless as he was socially, you know that he’ll pick up on your hints. You’ve known each other long enough.
“We’re in the middle of a conversation,” your neighbour says, looking unimpressed that you’re dismissing him.
Giyu looks at him before turning back to you. “Are you hungry? I wanted to talk.”
“Sure!”
“Excuse me,” your neighbour interrupts again.
Giyu gives you an unimpressed look but turns to face him. “Can I help you?”
“You’re interrupting. I was just getting to know your friend.”
Giyu stares at the man for a moment. “I don’t think she wants to know you.”
Your neighbour’s jaw drops. “Who are you to say that?”
“Her friend.” Giyu looks at you again. “Do you want to stay?”
You shake your head slightly, just enough to convey your desire to leave. You might have to never come back. Or maybe you could convince him to move. “Let’s get something to eat.”
“There’s no need to be rude!” your neighbour snaps.
“She’s not rude,” Giyu says. “It was clear she wasn’t interested before. You should pay attention.” You try not to laugh at Giyu of all people pointing out ignoring social cues. You adore him more for it. “Let’s go.”
“Hey!” your neighbour reaches out, aiming for Giyu’s shoulder to stop him from leading you away. He doesn’t make it. Giyu steps to the side, turning as he grabs your neighbour’s hand and directs the motion straight to the ground.
You can’t stop the gasp at the sound of him hitting the ground.
Giyu holds him there for a moment. “Are you done?” he asks. He finally releases him and steps back. “You should keep your hands to yourself.” Giyu looks at you again. “Can we go now?”
“Yeah,” you smile. “We can.”
He offers you his hand to step over your neighbour and leads you away. “If he bothers you again, call us.”
“I will.”
Kyojuro
Someone shouts your name and as soon as you hear it, you calm down. Things are going to be okay. You turn towards the voice and grin. “Kyo!”
“I hoped you were home!” He strides forwards towards the two of you. He looks between you both. “Am I interrupting?”
“No!” you exclaim as your neighbour says “yes.”
Kyojuro looks at you both before he nods. “I see. My apologies regardless.” He smiles at your neighbour and offers his hand. “I am Rengoku Kyojuro. Who are you?”
You watch as your neighbour introduces himself almost warily as if he’s not sure what to make of the situation.
Kyojuro turns to you, stepping closer and smiling down. “Are you free today?”
“Yes.”
“Excellent. Continue your conversation, I will wait.” He crosses his arms over his chest and turns to face your neighbour. The man looks stunned to be pinned by Kyojuro’s gaze. You know the feeling but you wait to see if he’s going to continue to confess under your friend’s stare.
“I uh…” your neighbour glances at Kyojuro again before he looks at you. “As I was saying, I want to know you more! If you don’t like that I drink, I’ll stop.”
You look at Kyojuro whose expression hasn’t changed but you can see the tension in his form. You wouldn’t notice if you didn’t know him like you do. “I heard you,” you say carefully. It’s safer now, you feel, to decline his interest outright with someone else with you. “Thank you, but I’m not interested.”
“You haven’t even given me a chance,” your neighbour says. You don’t want to. “We could just spend time together.”
“No thanks,” you say, shifting closer to Kyojuro without thinking.
Your neighbour steps forward, reaching for your hand again. “I’m not trying–”
“She has made herself clear,” Kyojuro interrupts, his hand on the man’s wrist, preventing him from touching you. “Do not dishonour yourself further and press for her attention.”
“Dishonour? I’m just trying to ask her out!”
“And she refused,” Kyojuro says, still staring at the man. “I fear that if she should accept, the flame of her heart would be drowned by the weight of your desire. I cannot accept that!”
“I didn’t ask you,” your neighbour snarls.
“You did not! But I am here regardless and thankful for it, if only to protect her from your refusal to hear her disinterest. Leave now.”
“You can’t just–”
“I can! I trust that you will not embarrass yourself further. Should I hear that you continue to push or attempt to take advantage, I will not be as forgiving as I am now.”
The man stares at him for a moment before Kyojuro finally lets go. Your neighbour stumbles back slightly. He glares at you both, rubbing at the wrist Kyojuro held before he walks off, heading to the building. Kyojuro watches until the man disappears into the building before he turns to you. “Are you alright?”
You move without really thinking, wrapping your arms around his waist and hugging him tightly. “Thank you.”
He pauses for a moment before he brings his arms around you, holding you against him. “It’s alright,” he says softly. “I am just glad I was able to be here.”
You pull back. “I appreciate the help. What brings you around?”
“I wanted to see you, of course!” He lets go as you move away. “As you are not busy, would you be willing to join me? I have something I wanted to show you!”
“Of course! Let’s go!”
Tengen
An arm drapes itself over your shoulder. If you weren’t familiar with the weight of it, the scent of the man who pulls you into him, you would have recoiled. “What’s this then?”
You look up at the built man who towers over the rest of you. “Tengen! What are you doing here?”
“Came to see you, of course! Who’s this?” Despite the cheerful tone, he doesn’t take his eyes off your neighbour.
“My neighbour,” you say after a moment as you realize the man in question is still looking at Tengen.
“Hm,” Tengen leans down, putting his face next to yours and ignoring your neighbour. “You miss me?” He grins as he asks, eyes on you.
“Didn’t I just see you the other day with the others?” you quip back, used to his flirting.
“Who are you?” the man finally speaks up.
Tengen glances over at him and you can practically see him considering if he wants to deal with the man. He straightens, keeping his arm around you, and grins. “Uzui Tengen! Flashiest man around and the love of her life!”
“You’re not the love of my life,” you say automatically.
“I could be,” Tengen says. He leans down closer again and his voice lowers. “Don’t you want to give us a chance?”
“We’re talking,” your neighbour cuts in again. “In fact, if she’s not interested, it’s all the more reason she should say yes to going out with me.”
“I would think that the she in question should make the choice,” you mutter.
“Why would she date someone as unflashy as you?” Tengen asks, looking unimpressed.
Your neighbour seems taken aback by the question. “What? Why wouldn’t she?”
Tengen makes a point of looking the man up and down. “You have no flair! No flamboyance! In fact, it’s very unflashy of you to keep ignoring her like this while you talk about her, right Angel?”
“Hmm,” you nod in agreement.
Tengen tightens his grip slightly “Do you want to go out with this boring man?” He asks.
“No.”
“There you have it. Now,” Tengen leans towards your neighbour. “In fact, I don’t think you should bother her again and if you do, well…I’ll show you how flashy I can be.”
The man swallows slightly, as though he’s suddenly reminded of Tengen’s size. “Uh sure,” your neighbour says. He glances at you. “Sorry.”
You don’t get a chance to respond because Tengen leads you away, arm still around you and heads towards your building.
“You’re not going out anywhere, are you? Thought we could order in. Unless you want to go out. Karaoke?”
“Are we going to invite the girls?”
He grins at you. “Of course!”
Bonus!
Tengen & his wives!
You hear the squeal first and then Suma crashes into you. You hug the woman back, used to how affectionate she is.
“What are you doing here?” you ask, completely distracted from the situation with your neighbour as you look to see Makio and Hinatsuru heading towards you.
“We missed you!” Suma says, pulling back.
“Will you let her go?” Makio demands, yanking Suma back as they get close. “You’re interrupting!”
“Sorry!” Suma lets go. “I was just excited!”
“It has been a while since we’ve seen you,” Hina agrees. She looks over at your neighbour before turning back to you. “Sorry for interrupting. We hope you don’t mind that we dropped by unannounced.”
“Not at all,” you smile at the three women that now surround you. Makio has shifted, taking point to be in between you all and your neighbour. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“I bet,” Makio says. There’s a brief moment where you all communicate silently with each other. The slight widening of the eyes, the nod and shifting of the shoulders. The way friends have communicated about the people around them for ages without words. It’s enough that the three women are all aware that you’re uncomfortable and are grateful for their help.
“Excuse me.”
They all turn to look at your neighbour who looks delighted at the sudden prospect of more women to interact with. It probably helps that all three of the new ones are gorgeous, well-endowed and wearing low-cut tops.
“What?” Makio asks, unimpressed. Suma shifts slightly to stand closer to you.
“Sorry to interrupt,” he says before introducing himself. The women all stare at the hand he offers but none of them reach to take it. He pauses before finally dropping it, but he steps closer. “We were just getting to know each other,” he says. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friends?”
No, you think. You don’t get a chance to answer though because Makio turns her back on the man and faces you again. “Have you eaten?” Makio asks.
“Oh yeah!” Suma grabs your arm and you feel a rush of affection for these women who have shown up and are trying to help. “If you have, we could get dessert!”
“You’re not busy, are you?” Hina asks.
“No,” you shake your head.
“Hey!” your neighbour cuts in again. “There’s no reason to be a bitch. You could have just said you were into girls. I wouldn’t have minded…especially if I can watch.”
Your jaw drops open and you can see the way the others nearly shake with anger. Before any of them can step forward, your attention is drawn behind him as Tengen appears.
“Oh ho! What’s this?” His hand slaps down on your neighbour's shoulder. You can see his grip tighten. “I didn’t just hear you call them something so unflashy, did I?”
“Tengen!” You all call out, your voice tinged with a little more relief. As glad as you are for the company of the girls, you don’t want to subject them to your neighbour more than you have to.
Tengen grins at the four of you before focusing back on the man he’s holding. “Now, what were you saying?”
“What? Nothing!”
“Liar!” Makio snaps.
“He called her a bitch, Tengen,” Hina says softly. She loops her arm around yours on the side that doesn’t have Suma.
“He said he wanted to watch!” Suma adds.
“Oh really?” Tengen’s eyes narrow. “Perhaps you girls should go ahead and I’ll catch up…after I teach this one some manners.”
“Good,” Makio nods.
“We’ll let you know where we decide to go,” Hina says softly. “Come on.” The girls usher you away from the building where Tengen is still keeping your neighbour in place. The man looks slightly terrified now but Tengen waves you all off with a grin.
“I’m so glad you’re okay!” Suma exclaims, still keeping her arm around yours as they walk.
“Yeah,” Makio agrees. “How long has that creep been bothering you?”
“He’s been staring for a while but just came out of nowhere today, telling me he liked me and wanted to go out. He said he’s an alcoholic but would stop for me.” You see the look the women give each other.
“Maybe you should stay with us,” Hina suggests. “Just for a bit.”
“Yeah!”
You laugh slightly. “I don’t know. I’ll have to go home eventually, right? I’m sure he got the point.”
An arm wraps around your shoulder as Tengen appears, inserting himself between you and Suma. He laughs as you both adjust to the new position. “He sure did!” He towers over all of you but Tengen has never felt threatening. At least not to you. “He won’t be bothering you anymore. And if he’s still staring, call us. We’ll deal with him,” he promises.
You smile up at him. “Thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank us,” Hinatsuru says softly. “We’re happy to help.”
“Yeah!” Makio adds. “He’s lucky Tengen showed up before I got to him.”
“I don’t know about that…” Tengen says, “but I know I am with such flashy girls!”
AND
Tanjiro, Nezuko, Zenitsu and Inosuke
The man is holding your hand in a light grip that tightens as you try to pull away. You’re trying not to be rude but his hand is clammy and you never wanted to be touched. You have a feeling you’re going to have to snap and then deal with the repercussions later.
Your attention shifts to the sound of feet hitting the pavement and a familiar voice calling your name. You yank your hand from your neighbour before turning and moving back, managing to avoid Inosuke’s attempt at a tackle. You shift and watch as Zenitsu falls, his attempts to hug you failing. You’re used to these kids and at this point, it’s a game when you meet.
Zenitsu whines at your avoidance.
“Haha!” Inosuke slides to a stop and turns back to you. “You won’t avoid me again!”
“Stop tackling her!”
You ignore Zenitsu and Inosuke as they start arguing and turn to Tanjiro and Nezuko as they stop next to you. “What are you all doing here?”
“I hope you don’t mind,” Tanjiro says softly. “We were passing by and saw you. We thought we’d stop and say hi. I tried to get them to stop from running at you. Sorry.”
“It’s fine,” you wave him off. “I’m glad to see you.” Nezuko moves forward and offers a hug and you hug back, noticing the way Tanjiro moves between you and your neighbour. Your gaze softens. He’s such a good kid. They all are.
“It’s been awhile,” Tanjiro agrees.
“Excuse me,” your neighbour cuts in, moving around Tanjiro. “Didn’t realize you were so popular with children. Are you related?”
“No,” you say, not willing to give more than that.
“Who are you?” Inosuke shoves himself between you and your neighbour. You can see the man trying to move around the kid, but Inosuke has a way of making himself known. “Fight me!” he demands.
“What? I’m not going to fight a kid.” Your neighbour looks for you but you let go of Nezuko who raises her eyebrows, silently asking if you’re okay.
You nod back, smiling at the girl.
“You think you’ll beat me?” Inosuke says. “You couldn’t touch me. I’m the greatest!”
“Who is that?” Zenitsu asks quietly, coming up to your side now that Inosuke is distracted. “Do you know him?”
“He’s my neighbour,” you say. “He was just…introducing himself.” You wince as you say it.
“You didn’t seem comfortable. Do you want to leave?” Tanjiro asks, focused on you as Inosuke drags your neighbour to more open space in his demands to fight. “We can walk you to where you’re going. Or inside,” he offers.
“Thanks.” You smile in relief, even if they’re just kids, you’re grateful you’re no longer alone.
“Fuck off!” All of your attention turns to the sound of your neighbour yelling at Inosuke. “You freak!”
“Excuse me?” You move around the children, striding towards your neighbour. To hell with being polite. “What did you just say?” He turns to you, surprise crossing his features as though he’s forgotten you were there.
“I–I was just–”
“Just what?” You snap. “He’s a kid and you’re swearing at him?”
“He’s not leaving me alone! I’m trying to talk to you!”
“I don’t want to talk!” You stride forward, aware of the eyes on you. “I haven’t shown the slightest interest and you kept pushing and trying to touch me!” His eyes widen but you don’t stop. “They’re fifteen! And they have more sense and observation than you do. You don’t treat people like that, even if they’re annoying and you don’t keep pushing your attention on to someone who doesn’t want it!”
“I’m sorry,” he reaches for you again.
“Fuck off!” you use his own words against him. “Come on, Inosuke, don’t waste your time fighting him. You’d likely win in seconds. Let’s go.” You turn and walk back toward the others.
“You’re so cool!” Zenitsu cheers as you return.
“That was impressive,” Tanjiro agrees. “Hopefully he’ll listen.”
“If he doesn’t, I’ll come back and show him how weak he is!”
You smile at Inosuke and reach out to ruffle his hair. He ducks out of the way. “Thanks. Come on, let’s get out of here. You guys want to walk me to my friends?”
“Yeah!”
“Let’s go!”
“I’m going to get there first!”
“What!? Wait for us!”
taglist: @raith-way @chrissymunson @veetlegeuse @chickensarentcheap @residentdormouse
#fic: dealing with unwanted attention#hashira x reader#hashira reactions#uzui tengen x reader#kyojuro x reader#gyomei x reader#shinobu x reader#giyu x reader#obanai x mitsuri x reader#sort of#demon slayer fic#kimetsu no yaiba fic#this is just me wishing i had help dealing with this situation lol#also how the hell do i tag this??#demon slayer
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The Hashira and their Sense of Humor
Apologies for the hiatus! A lot has happened over the last couple of months and I'm finally getting some of them (somewhat) resolved through therapy and A LOT of patience with myself. So here's a post that I written back in October that brings me so much joy! Thank you all for your patience ^^
Word count: 2k~
Mitsuri Kanroji
You know those types of people who want to tell you a really funny story but they need to stop laughing first?
And they've been laughing for the past fifteen minutes?
Yeah that's Mitsuri
I'm not entirely sure what to categorize this either than comedic storytelling
She could probably be a standup comedian too, she has some good stories to tell
But Mitsuri is really in her element when when someone else is telling a mildly amusing story
She will just keep adding onto it to somehow make it even more funnier than it was originally intended
Misturi could make an inside joke between you guys too, she is the designated funny friend of the Hashira
I also feel like she sometimes makes self-deprecating jokes, but not on any serious topics
Like she enjoys poking fun at the fact that she's still single
For an example, Mitsuri and Shinobu could be making an order at a restaurant for lunch
By the time Mitsuri finishes her first round of food and hands the dishes to the waiter, she accidentally drops them causing all the plates and bowls to shatter all over the floor
She tries to help clean up but the staff insists that she shouldn't worry about it
Sitting back down with Shinobu, cheeks red from embarrassment, Mitsuri will crack an awkward smile and say "Yeah, this is why I'm still single!"
Obanai Iguro
Obanai is the most sarcastic motherfucker on this list
I feel like his number one policy is "Don't ask me stupid questions"
He's already annoyed like 70% of the time, just don't annoy him even more
But then again...
"Hey Obanai, did you lose this?" "No I was just playing hide and seek with an inanimate object for fun, YES I fucking dropped it"
"You look really tired, are you doing okay?" "Hell yeah, nothing says healthy like eye bags as dark as my hair"
"Can I pet your snake?" "Yeah you just gotta let him nibble you first but don't worry, he's only venomous"
Usually he's kinda rude about it but he does have his nice moments
"Hey Obanai, can you pass me that?" Obanai will just say no but hand and just hand it to you anyways
Some people just don't understand sarcasm all the time and that's when he kinda runs into some trouble
Obanai and Kyojuro were walking to a meeting together, but Obanai had forgotten his jacket AND haori
It was quite chilly outside too, so poor Obanai was shivering while trying to keep Kaburamaru warm
Kyojuro asked Obanai "My friend, winter is coming! Aren't you cold?"
Obanai deadpanned and said "Of course not, I'm just practicing my acting. Glad to see that my shivering is that convincing"
"How interesting! Maybe you should audition for a play at the theatre!"
Obanai's annoyance kept him warm for the rest of the day
Tengen Uzui
Quite an obvious statement, but Tengen’s humor mainly comprises of sex jokes and innuendos
The man has three wives, of course he would find that shit funny
Like he will be in the middle of a meeting, and everyone will line up to receive some gifts from Kagaya
He will say "Come in a straight line, my students"
Tengen will chuckle and say "That's what she said"
Tengen is also the type to be "gay with the homies" and loves to embarrass Sanemi and Obanai by making jokes about being in love or hooking up with them
He chooses specifically those two because it felt awkward to make the jokes to Gyomei
Tengen once spent forty-five minutes explaining to Kyojuro that he didn't actually want to buy him dinner after Kyojuro gave him a genuinely offended look to the highest degree
"How deceitful of you, Tengen"
He pretty much wrote off saying jokes like that to Kyojuro following that incident, but he really can't help himself sometimes
I don't think that Tengen solely has generic innuendos he uses on everyone, he likes testing what SPECIFIC category of sex jokes makes people uncomfortable
Like if Giyu goes to the bathroom, Tengen will saunter up with a finger gun on his chin and ask "Pissing all by yourself, handsome?"
Everyone is throwing their shoes at him
Sanemi Shinazugawa
Of course this sadistic bastard likes slapstick, what we’re you thinking?
He may be good at holding in a laugh, but you can still see that stupid smirk on his face if anyone stumbles
One time Tengen's six foot ass fell face first while running late to a meeting
Sanemi actually struggled to keep his composure that day, he had to bite his lips together to hide the uncontrollable grin on his face
People getting smacked upside the head, tripping others, people getting violently angry, Sanemi loves it all
He refuses to admit that Zenitsu is funny
Now a regular civilian is one thing, but children getting roughed up is another
there was a particular incident where Sanemi had come across some kids swinging on a tree branch near a market he occasionally visited
This week ass branch definitely didn't have the strength to hold up any of those kids
So Sanemi did what any sane person would, and stuck around to watch this disaster happen
Well unfortunately for this one child, the branch snapped mid-swing and fell right on their face
And there was Sanemi, a hand over his stomach from laughing at these dumb kids
He didn't even stop to help them or anything, just calmed down from laughing so hard and walked away to continue shopping
Shinobu Kocho
An absolute queen of insult humor
Even Sanemi can’t beat Shinobu at her best
Do you even think she would stick with the basic ass jokes? Of course not
She can be an absolute menace if she really wants to
Shinobu is just tired of everyone's shit, and she can get even more exhausted from putting on that smile nearly as much as Kyojuro
She just can't keep up
Which brings me to my main point, which is that Shinobu's funny side usually comes out in rants or vents with the people closest to her
She and Mitsuri both express their humor by storytelling, Shinobu's just originates more from anger an annoyance rather than an effort to be entertaining
Regardless of who Shinobu's around, everyone can tell that when she walks through the door with steam coming out of her ears, everyone's gonna be laughing their asses off
As anyone can agree if they've worked in any form of customer service, there are some days where you are so damn close to breaking your cool
When Tengen got placed in the Butterfly Estate's infirmary, Shinobu was actually going to kill a patient instead of saving them for once
Like this man was just demanding shit and teasing his friend left and right, and Aoi had never been so afraid of her mentor in her entire life
Aoi tried to calm her down, "Sticks and stones Shinobu, don't let him get to you!"
Tengen only snickered
Ooooo, she lost her shit
"Sticks and stones may break my bones but PLEASE. FUCK. OFF"
Angy Shinobu is best Shinobu
Kyojuro Rengoku
Look me in the eyes and tell me Kyojuro doesn’t like puns
I know you can't do it
He will howl with laughter nearly every time you tell him a pun
"Hey Kyo, you're never gonna believe it! Remember my friend with a bakery? Well it just burned down!"
At first he'll show genuine concern, politely shouting "How unfortunate!"
"Don't worry about it, his business is toast"
Give him a minute...
"Ahahaha! Good one!"
Not only does he like being told puns, but if he has a good opportunity to tell a well timed pun he will not stop giggling until he tells it
One time you, Tengen, Mitsuri, and Kyojuro were all trying to decide where to eat after a long day of work
At one point Tengen suggested hotpot, even offering to take you all to one that Makio and Suma liked
Kyojuro tried muffling his laughing, but his attention was redirected when you asked him what he thought of the idea
Finally able to cease his giggles, Kyojuro proudly shouted "SOUPER"
It doesn't matter if you find the joke funny or not, Kyojuro's laughter is so contagious that you're dying at the silly pun
What a fucking dork <3
Giyu Tomioka
If there was a form of comedy that’s applicable at any given moment, Giyu would use it on a daily basis
Luckily for him, Giyu discovered it very quicky and refuses to let the tactic go
That's right, Giyu is physically incapable of stopping himself from making a "your mom" joke
Everyone can blame Obanai for that one
Quite literally at any opportunity, Giyu will mutter the phrase under his breath
Unfortunately, because it has become such an unconscious thing for Giyu, this bad habit of his ends up kicking his ass at the worst of times
with all due respect to Giyu's efforts, it just makes him unintentionally funny
in an awkward way
Giyu visited one of his favourite restaurants on his day off, the waiter asked "Is there anything else you would like, sir?" after giving his order
Now Giyu didn't mean it, he really didn't
It just slipped out of his mouth so easily
"Your mom"
Let me tell you, the silence was absolutely deafening
After the two stared at each other in mutual confusion, Giyu just wordlessly left due to the sheer embarrassment and awkwardness he had caused
He tried to go back, truly, Giyu made the effort and walked through the door
But he made uncomfortable eye contact with that same waiter and walked out
He hasn't gone back to that restaurant since ;,)
Gyomei Himijima
I have already established in my Gyomei Headcannons post that Gyomei is the dad friend of the Hashira (go check out that post if you haven’t btw ^^)
So of course he's going to make dad jokes, everyone saw this coming
God forbid you ever complain around him, he will see it as an opportunity (usually)
"Man, I'm really hungry" Gyomei will hand you a bento box and say "Hi hungry, I'm prepared
He is THAT GUY that makes "I haven't seen you since last year!" jokes
Every single year without fail
Shockingly, Gyomei and Kyojuro will bond over their mutual love for super corny jokes
One time while training Genya, Gyomei asked him "Child, what is long and sticky?"
Genya paused his routine to think for a moment, slightly disturbed by the question
"I don't know what you- fresh mochi?" Gyomei shook his head
Genya made a claw gesture with his hands, knowing Gyomei couldn't see it
"No idea, what's long and sticky?"
Gyomei gave a small, sly smile before responding
"A stick, little one"
To be honest, Gyomei's jokes do annoy some of the Hashira whenever he makes them (mainly Shinobu, Obanai and Tengen)
Normally because he's so calm about it
Tengen usually is one to lose his temper over it though
"You really got a joke for about everything, huh?" "Indeed I do, Tengen. I even have one about construction"
Tengen's eye will twitch as he taunts Gyomei "Oh yeah? Well let's hear it then!"
"I'm afraid I can't, my friend. I'm still working on it"
Kyojuro's laugh echoes throughout the meeting as Tengen realizes he most definitely walked into that one
Muichiro Tokito
His sense of humor is weird
That’s all I have, anything that Muichiro finds funny is actually kinda strange
He does this thing where he will go in with a fistbump, but change it to a high five last second
Muichiro can do it the other way around too, but regardless it results in this silly fist-five thing that makes him chuckle
He's a little bit of a devious child so his sense of humor kinda comes from whatever will annoy the other Hashira
Sometimes he will sit in the middle of a meeting and just blow raspberries while spacing out a little
It annoys the fuck out of Sanemi and Obanai because Muichiro's spit gets EVERYWHERE
Even Giyu thinks that kid comes with his own splash zone
He's not one for pranks per say, but he likes reaping a bit of terror amongst the other Hashira
One time Muichiro stole Tengen's red eyeliner one weekend purely for entertainment
the next day when everyone showed up to the meeting, people got to witness a very distressed Tengen
Holding up Sanemi and Obanai midair by the collar of their shirts, Tengen interrogated the both of them where they hid his shockingly expensive liner
Of course no one would suspect the slobbering kid, who was inconspicuously blowing raspberries
Had anyone asked Muichiro if he saw Tengen's liner, Muichiro would turn to the fuming man and giggle
Secretly, Aoi is Muichiro's unknowing accomplice in these scenarios
"Here Aoi, could you hold this for a while?" "Uhh, sure? What is it for?" "Hmm? Oh nothing..."
Don't underestimate this little shit
꒷꒦˚︶︶꒦꒷︶꒷꒦˚ ꒷꒦˚︶︶꒦꒷︶꒷꒦˚ ꒷꒦˚︶︶꒦꒷︶꒷꒦˚
Hey y’all! Hope you liked this post, it was such a pleasure to write it ^^
I’m hoping that now I’ll be able to write more for this blog now that I have more time, and I have more posts lined up in the future :)
Ask box and requests are still open, just please read the rules before submitting anything!
#demon slayer#kimetsu no yaiba#kny#demon slayer blog#kny blog#demon slayer hashira#kny scenarios#kny hashira#hashira x reader#rengoku x reader#tengen x reader#shinobu x reader#mitsuri x reader#obanai x reader#sanemi x reader#giyu x reader#gyomei x reader#muichiro x reader#demon slayer scenarios#kyojuro rengoku#tengen uzui#mitsuri kanroji#shinobu kocho#obanai iguro#sanemi shinaguzawa#giyu tomioka#muichiro tokito#gyomei himejima#kny x reader#demon slayer x reader
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Your assistant?
Devil!reader/Wanda maximoff
Words: 2,400
Summary: So your typical story of a devil being owed money from a family but instead of paying Wanda’s parents give her to you instead, her first day with you is an eventful one to say the least, I’m sure you two will get along great!
Not a slow burn but we don’t have Wanda in our grips yet, not willingly anyway
Warnings: 18+ only! MINORS DNI swearing, some inappropriate language I think, lmk if I missed any more
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You glared at the woman across the table from you, her whole body stiffened when she glanced up and saw you looking, that made you chuckle glancing at the redhead next to you “I think she’s nervous Natty” you chuckled but the Russian just rolled her eyes “you snatched her up from her dorm room before her classes, she’s probably worried about her attendance”
You nodded “I never understood why humans are so concerned with keeping schedules, life is short just go out and enjoy yourself, kill some men and fuck their wives, what else do they need to do?” You looked back at the woman across from you leaning forward to be closer “hey pretty girl, sorry for snatching you up but I really needed to talk to you”. She finally looked up again at you “if this is a way of asking me out then it’s really fucking stupid” you heard Natasha suck in a breath and you smirked knowing full well how Nat gets when someone younger than her swears, she was weird like that “watch your fucking tone miss Maximoff and don’t you dare speak to us like that!” See? Weird, she hates swearing but will swear at anyone who swears at her.
“Natty my aggressive little spider monkey how about you go outside and find Maria, use her body for a little bit to calm down okay?” You patted her slammed fist and she sighed agreeing to leave you alone with the woman, when she exited the room you moved across the room sitting next the woman smiling “little one do you know how much debt your family is in?”
Wanda shook her head “I know mama and papa like to bet on the horses but they said we were okay and had nothing to worry about” you nodded along with her and held out your hand for her take which she did “I understand they told you everything was fine but unfortunately you’re still in debt and as you can imagine I would like to be payed Wanda, be it money or other favours I choose”
Wanda snatched her hand away standing up shocked “oh so that’s why you snatched me?! Am I becoming some kind of prostitute for you and the crazy bitch out there to pay off my family’s debt?!”
You eyes widened and you had to hide your laughter “I mean if you wanted to skip around the place wearing barley nothing while the women here grope and use you then sure you can become our little plaything” her face dropped in horror and she went to speak again but you held your hand up stopping her “no pretty girl I won’t make you become our plaything, but I do need your help, you’ll become my assistant, you know helping with documents and accompanying me to events and meetings, your parents have already agreed”
Wanda was shocked, her parents really agreed to this? How could they, she had to call them.
“You can’t call them honey, from the moment you were taken by my security all communication was terminated between you and them, I can’t have you telling them what kind of activities you have gotten up to”.
“Like what?” She was curious but also nervous, you couldn’t do things that bad right? Also how did you read her mind?
You stood up stalking toward Wanda pressing her against the wall “I need you to trust me Wanda” your hand found it’s way to Wanda’s waist rubbing small circles there “do you trust me?” She shook her head no “I don’t know you, you literally snatched me up from my dorm and now you’re touching me inappropriately”.
You laughed “inappropriately? My fingers are on your waist not inside your pussy so don’t you dare tell me I’m being inappropriate right now, so I’ll ask you again, do you trust me?”
Wanda sighed relenting “sure” you smiled “good, your first job is to accompany me to a meeting in 20 minutes, you’ll stay quiet until I say you can speak, if you step out of line Natty will slit your throat faster than you can say sorry, got it?”
Wanda nodded her head so quickly you thought it would fall off “well done princess now to business” she didn’t have time to do anything before you lent down to kiss marks down her throat, sucking harshly against her skin she tried pushing you away but your hands gripped her keeping her in place “stay.still” you said sternly and Wanda relented standing still and letting you continue, you pulled away admiring the dark purple mark now blooming on Wanda’s neck “perfect”
Wanda let out a breathy sigh “I thought you said I was just your assistant, why’d you do that?”
You smiled kissing Wanda on the cheek “you are, but if I don’t mark you as mine then our conversation about you not becoming our plaything would’ve been for nothing Carol can be ravenous with an unmarked human”
“Why do you keep saying humans? It’s a little strange” Wanda had an idea but she really hoped it wasn’t true, being snatched was bad enough but adding in some weird supernatural thing would be even worse “it’s nothing to worry your pretty little head about, just know that you belong to me and I won’t let them touch your pretty body, now come on my assistant we have a meeting to go to”
**************************************************************************************************************”Took you long enough” Nat looked at Wanda’s neck and smirked “you work quick Y/n, that should keep the others away, maybe Carol will behave herself for once-
The double doors before you slammed open and the before mentioned Carol appeared with dark red eyes honing in on Wanda who quickly moved behind you clinging to your arm “are you our lunch? You look delicious!”
You growled at Carol keeping her in place “she’s mine and if you don’t stay away I will tear you limb from limb and make you eat the limbs” the woman held her hands up smiling at you “I love it when you threaten me Y/n, gets me all hot and bothered” she stepped towards you kissing you and biting your lip
“I miss you baby” she whispered and you rolled your eyes “you can’t say that when I walked in on you eating out Val, clearly you don’t miss me that much” You pushed the blonde away from you and Wanda and laughed at Carol’s expression, “you know she tricked me”
“How? Did she tell you there was candy in there? I’m guessing it was something sour” it was Wanda’s turn to let out a laugh now but she immediately shut up when everyone turned to look at her “was that funny princess?” You asked and she nodded “you’ll fit right in Wanda”
You pushed her through into the room and dragged her to a chair where you sat and she looked around confused “where do I sit?”
You pointed to your lap “either here or the floor” you stated matter of factly and Wanda blushed “w-why don’t I get a chair?”
“Because you’re mine and it’s a great way to keep a close eye on you if you’re on my lap, now sit” you pulled her onto your lap clumsily making the group laugh “god she’s adorable” Carol chuckled making her way next to you “forgive me yet?” She asked kissing your neck “no and I probably never will” she whined sadly “please forgive me I haven’t done anything since-
“Carol sit the fuck down!” Nat shouted jolting both Carol and Wanda “fuck me Nat you need to calm down” Carol scoffed moving away from you and avoiding the angry redhead’s gaze “I’ll calm down when you learn to not to stick your tongue where it doesn’t belong, I had to deal with Y/n’s heartbreak for weeks after she found you”. Carol rolled her eyes “we’re not children okay, how about we just carry on with the meeting”
You laughed “for once being an adult Carol, well done” you turned back to Wanda kissing her cheek “we need you to do something special, will you do that for me?”
Wanda shrugged knowing she couldn’t really say no “sure- she squeaked, when you jumped up with her in your arms suddenly “perfect!” You stood her up pointing to a bag on the table that she didn’t notice to begin with “can you take this dagger and stab the bag?”
Wanda looked at you questionably “what?”
“Just simply take the dagger and pierce the bag like a cook in the bag chicken” you pushed the dagger into Wanda’s hand making her face the bag guiding her hand “there’s nothing to worry about, stab right here” you pointed to a slightly raised part of the bag “what if I don’t want too?”
You shrugged “then I let Carol have her way with you” she glanced over at Carol who had her eyes glued to Wanda’s body and when she met her eyes Carol smiled “I would ruin you-
Wanda didn’t hesitate stabbing the bag but instantly regretted it when the bag spurted out blood and all over her, she heard roars around the room and heard Natasha’s voice “she hit the jugular vein! Like a pro!” Wanda couldn’t move her hand still grasping the dagger and the voices being drowned at by the blood rushing to her head
You cautiously removed Wanda’s hand from the dagger and pulled the stunned woman away from the group whispering in her ear “you did so well princess, what a good girl”.
Your voice went unnoticed by Wanda still shocked at what she did, she didn’t register you took her away until your forced her into a room and she could breathe again
“I can’t believe I did that….I killed someone…I fucking killed someone!” Wanda was shouting and panicking unable to calm herself down until you wrapped your arms around her waist leaning in close to her ear “shh shhh honey I understand come on now…shhh everything’s okay, I’m so proud of you” while your words did calm her down they didn’t stop tears from falling “I hate it here” she whispered and you kissed her cheek turning her around to face you “it’s been 3 hours, give it time”
Wanda had no fight back, instead she fell into you letting you lay her on the bed “rest for a while princess, take it all in”
*****************************************************************************************
Nat found you drinking whiskey like a movie villain in your chair in a dark area of the front room “why are you sat in the dark like a movie villlian?”
You shrugged turning on the light illuminating the room and making you squint “why are you dripping blood all over my floor?” Looking at Nat covered in blood wasn’t anything new, in fact if she don’t have blood on her you’d be very concerned “Carol and I went out hunting and she can’t keep things clean”. You nodded along passing Nat a comically small napkin to wipe her face “thanks bud soooo helpful, how’s the assistant?”
“She’s a little upset about killing someone which is typical but I’m sure she’s fine” Nat sat down opposite you taking the bottle from the table and taking a long drink “I guess human’s do struggle with killing another living person, silly really”.
You agreed taking the bottle back and taking a swig sitting in silence with the woman for a few minutes. “I think she’s awake” Nat spoke up, you hummed in response turning your head to the stairs seeing your new assistant standing nervously on the stairs “feeling better Wanda?” She didn’t say anything instead she just walked downstairs and sat herself on your lap “oh? What do I owe the pleasure of this?” She pulled you into a kiss surprising both you and Nat, while you were definitely enjoying this you didn’t notice Wanda pulling a small knife from her pocket and plunging it into your stomach
You both stilled and Wanda’s breathing was heavy while you remained stoic staring into her eyes “did you really think that would work princess?”
Wanda felt a hand grab her hair and drag her off of you and throw her to the floor, when she looked up she saw Nat pointing a gun at her “give me a reason not to shoot you right between the eyes”.
You gently pulled the knife from your body discarding it on the floor and standing up and looking down at Wanda “you kill one person and now you want to kill me? Nat couldn’t even kill me so you don’t have a chance”. The tears gathered in Wanda’s already red and you started to feel bad making Nat lower her gun “Nat give us a minute”
The assassin sent you a questionable look but you just repeated “give us a minute” Nat sighed and put her gun away sparing Wanda one last glare and then she left you two alone “get up” your voice was stern yet gentle and Wanda immediately stood up wiping the tears that had fallen
“I know you don’t want to be here and I don’t want your experience to be horrible but you need to help me too, you’re here because of your parents they’re the ones you should be angry with, not me, if I didn’t step in for you you would’ve been sent to Steve and his group, they wouldn’t of hesitated to make you their plaything”
“I feel like I’m in a bad nightmare”
“Do you like to paint?” Wanda cocked her head to the side at the sudden change in sentence direction “what?”
“I said do you like painting? I have an art studio and it helps when I’m stressed, maybe it’ll help you adjust here”
Wanda gave a genuine smile “I do like painting, that would be nice”
You nodded walking through your house followed by the girl keeping close to you she didn’t get lost, finally coming to a door you opened it revealing the huge room with canvases and paints and even some pottery pieces
“Wow, this is a stark difference to a few hours ago” Wanda commented and you held back a laugh by biting your tongue “well I do have layers to me, take some time to paint or just look at some paints-
Wanda turned to face you stopping you talking
“Are you okay?” You asked and Wanda shook her head “I’ve killed someone, stabbed you, been threatened with a gun between my eyes by a crazy woman and now you’ve given me a nice room to paint in”
You shrugged “I need you be in a good mood to be working with me, otherwise I don’t have any use for you”
Wanda’s smile dropped “oh okay, I thought you were being nice”
Why were you being like this? What is the human doing to you, god Nat would never let you hear the end of it if you started to soften
“I just don’t want you to put yourself in any danger, then I’d have to deal with the consequences”
Wanda have a halfhearted smile and turned back to the room sitting down on the chair “can I have some time on my own, to process all of this?”
You sighed “sure, I need to do things, I’ll have to lock the door though and you’ll stay here for the next two hours then I’ll come and get you, the bathroom is over there” you pointed to a painted door “enjoy yourself, I won’t be this generous again”
You quickly left before she said anything and make you feel weird again, Natasha was waiting for you outside the room making you jump “fuck me nat what the hell?!”
The woman crossed her arms “why didn’t you let me kill her?”
“What?”
“You could find another one, she stabbed you and instead of killing her you just show her your painting room? Is the devil becoming soft?”
You pushed her hard against the wall and kept her pinned there with your arm “I’m not soft! She’ll break I’ll break her, todays just a learning day”
The Russian rolled her eyes “sure you will-
“Y/n!” Carol ran up to you stopping whatever Nat was going to say
“What do you want Carol?” You sighed and she grabbed you kissing you hard “please take me back! I need you I’m really sorry about Val I swear she means nothing to me”
Nat laughed at Carol’s poor attempts at getting you back but then you did something unexpected “I don’t forgive you Carol but I need to do something stupid and here you are, come on”
You dragged a happy Carol away to your room leaving the shocked demon behind “why do I put myself through this? Take me back to poking humans with a hot poker in hell over this any day”
#marvel#wanda maximoff#mcu#wanda maximov#wanda maximoff x reader#natasha romanoff#natasha romanov#marvel au#marvel imagine#marvel fanfic writer#marvel fanfic#carol danvers#marvel fanfiction#marvel fanfic series
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Ch 18: — and there is none upon earth that I desire beside thee.
Astarion has ascended, and she has stayed with him. Life in the Crimson Palace isn’t as idyllic as it seems. Is there a chance for their relationship to go back to how it was? Or is it too late for the Ascendant and his consort?
This series is about Ban, my Tav, and the Vampire Ascendant. Will be angst and smut, with sprinkles of fluff.
This fic is a softer take on Ascendant!Astarion and of the changes he undergoes after the rite. Can Ban handle the change, and if a chance came, would she choose to run? And can the Ascendant win her back in time? Inspired by the concept of vampire wives and that IGN interview with Larian that discussed the ascension.
Professionally edited by @editing-by-night
Halsin's gift gets put to use.
Read on AO3.
Masterlist.
Together with Halsin’s gift there was a leatherwork harness and a bottle of oil. Ban bit her lip, holding the items in her hands as Astarion stripped off the rest of his clothing.
“I did bathe in the hope you’d be agreeable to this,” he said excitedly, tossing his underwear onto the pile with the rest of his clothes. He scanned her face, saw her nervousness, and frowned.
“We don’t have to,” Astarion ventured, “If this isn’t something you want, then just say the word.”
“Have you ever done - what am I saying? Of course you have.” Ban fidgeted. “Is this… is this something you think you might like?” she asked instead.
His ears reddened again. “Yes. It could be enjoyable, in theory, but I haven’t done it with anyone I genuinely wanted. It will be as new for me as it is for you, in the ways that matter most.”
“Then why not bring it up before?” She looked at the wooden cock on the bed. It wasn’t too large, but Halsin had made the phallus curved.
“Ban.” Another look of impatience crossed Astarion’s features. “I know you’re flustered, but think a little. When in the last, gods, year, have we had time to consider things like this? Half the time we were trying to survive out there, and the other half we-”
Another sigh. “You know.”
She nodded. Fair enough. Ban set the bottle down, picking up the cock instead. She silently threaded it through the harness, careful not to scratch the protective coating on the wood, then looked back to her husband.
“I don’t know how to do this. Don’t be disappointed if I don’t perform well.” Ban held the cock gingerly in her hands, nervousness evident in her face.
“I have enough experience for the both of us, trust me,” Astarion said, eyes softening, “And it’s you. You never have to do anything as a performance to make me feel good. You just have to be you.”
Astarion’s pulse thrummed with excitement as he sat on the edge of the bed, watching Ban peel off her clothes and step into the harness, securing it around her hips. “Grab that chair, love, and bring it here.” He gestured in front of him.
She did as asked then sat down, fidgeting a little apprehensively. They faced each other, knees touching. The bottle of oil sat beside Astarion, unstoppered and ready for use.
He drew his legs up, the soles of his feet flat on the bed, offering his backside to her. He leaned back, propping himself up on his elbows to watch her, torn between equal parts anticipation and worry.
Will she be alright, doing this for me? What if she doesn’t really want to do this-
That line of thought evaporated as firm, strong hands wrapped around each ass cheek, spreading him open.
“Pretty,” Ban crooned, her tone perfectly even. He was a perfect shade of pink, clean and begging to be fucked.
Astarion raised an eyebrow at her. “Is that all you’re going to s-”
His remark cut off in a choked moan as she leaned forward and her tongue made contact with his entrance. Her first lick was hesitant, but hearing his response gave her more courage. The next passes of her tongue were more insistent, tracing slow, drawn out circles.
“Gods, Ban. That’s wonderful, but ah- you could go faster.”
Astarion stared at Ban unblinkingly; the sight was one he thought he’d remember for the rest of eternity. His hands dug into the sheets, cock twitching in anticipation.
“I could,” she conceded, lifting her head to meet his gaze, “But do I want to?”
He looked delectable, spread open for her like this. His ears were the pinkest she’d ever seen them, his cock already beginning to moisten at the tip.
“Ban.” He glowered. “I thought you said you had no experience in this. You ought to let me lead.”
Even as the words left him he knew he was powerless. He’d do anything to feel her tongue again.
“No experience at all,” she agreed, “But when it comes to you? I’m a quick study. Now, stay still.” With that she leaned back in, tongue laving all over his entrance enthusiastically. She traced another slow, firm circle, then plunged her tongue inside.
The moan that escaped him was exquisite, high-pitched and dripping with need.
Ban smirked, her fingers digging into the flesh of his ass to spread his cheeks further apart. Pressing her face flush against his entrance, she thrust her tongue in and out before retreating to lavish him with languid laps. She could feel him trying to rock his hips against her mouth, and she pulled away.
“I’m warning you, Astarion. Behave.”
He whimpered, forcing himself to still. He watched his cock throb, watched the drop of precum glint with the movement.
She resumed her ministrations, her tongue slowly spreading him open. Satisfied, she drew back.
“Perfect,” she cooed at him, “You know that, don’t you?” She reached for the bottle of oil, pouring some onto her palm.
It took him a moment to register her words; he opened his mouth to reply, but all that came out was a strangled gasp as her oiled finger slowly slipped inside of him.
She was enjoying exploring a new part of his body, enjoyed even more how much he was enjoying it. The tightness and gentle suction tugging on her index finger was oddly arousing. She pressed carefully on, watching him intently for signs of distress. She could see his cockhead gleaming with precum, his thighs twitching, his chest heaving. He was so responsive, so beautiful.
His eyes locked onto her face “More,” Astarion gasped out, his voice heavy with need, “Please.”
She smiled softly at him, slowly adding a second finger. She gently stretched him, moving deeper with a slow, measured pace she knew would drive him near to madness.
“Faster,” he hissed, “I’m not some godsdamned virgin-”
The fingers inside him curled, and he lost what little coherence he had left. His face went blank in shock as he realized she’d found his spot, and then the pleasure of it overtook him. He moaned so desperately it was nearly a sob. His back arched as his head fell back and his grip on the sheets tightened so suddenly he nearly tore through them.
Ban couldn’t remember a time he’d ever looked more lovely. She curled her fingers again, pleased with the sight of him writhing under her touch, his cock twitching, sweat beginning to bead on his pearlescent skin. She paused for a moment, hesitating.
“Was that okay, Astarion? Tell me what you want.”
He lifted his head to look at her, nodding fervently, not trusting himself to speak.
He took a deep breath to steady himself. “I’ll let you know when I’m ready. Just keep… keep doing that for now.”
She nodded, giving him a soft kiss on his inner thigh. “You’re so beautiful like this.”
A quiet whimper was his only reply.
Her fingers resumed, working him open with a gentleness that set his heart ablaze with love. It took a little longer than it could have, but he wasn’t complaining. He savored the feel of her inside him, stretching him open, making sure he was ready and not in pain. Loving him.
Astarion enjoyed her exploration with a patience he didn’t normally possess, unwilling to hurry her along, no matter how eager he was for the next step. He could feel the tenderness in her touch, her concern for his pleasure, and that was everything. He relaxed further, his tightness slowly ebbing with the overwhelming buildup of pleasure and desire.
Finally, he was so keen to be filled he couldn’t stand it.
“Ban. It’s time.”
A soft chuckle escaped Ban as she drew her fingers out, kissing his thigh again. She watched as he reached for the prestidigitation scroll Halsin had included with his gift, casting it over her while she repositioned herself. She leaned back on the chair, feeling cleaner than she had since they’d left the palace, waiting until his eyes were on her. Pouring more oil into her palms, she made a show of generously spreading the oil over the shaft of the wooden cock, eyes locked onto his.
“Come ride me then, Astarion,” she crooned, her lips curving in a teasing smile.
He got up a little clumsily, cock bobbing as he straddled her lap. She grasped his hips, guiding him while he slowly lowered himself onto her.
As he sank down, his weight pressed the base of the wooden cock harder against her; she instinctively rolled her hips up to meet him, earning his grunt of pleasure.
Astarion settled, shifting a little to get comfortable. The cock spreading him felt pleasant, the feeling of being full almost too much, but oh so welcome. He rested his hands on her shoulders, meeting her gaze. His eyes were lust-blown, curls sweat-damp and glued to his forehead.
Ban’s grip on his waist tightened, holding him firmly in place. Slowly, methodically, she began to thrust, fucking him gently.
The mewl that escaped him was completely involuntary. He wanted more, needed more, and so he began to move his hips, angling himself into her thrusts. With every movement the cock inside him hit his spot; he pleasured himself on it eagerly, rocking back and forth. His untouched cock shone, twitching, begging for stimulation, the ache only adding to his pleasure. His gliding sped up, his heart racing, his arousal slowly approaching its peak.
Ban leaned forward to press her forehead against his. She could feel his breaths as he panted, desperately chasing his release.
“Close?” she murmured, her hands moving from his waist to his thighs, massaging lightly.
He nodded, his hips rocking faster; she closed the gap between them to kiss him.
He took her hand and placed it over his chest. “Feel,” he whispered, “For you. Only you.”
As delirious with lust as he was, the love he felt for her was even more overwhelming, each emotion feeding and intensifying the other in a dizzying spiral that left him breathless.
Ban felt the frantic beating of his heart as his hips rocked again and again. His rhythm slowly became erratic, and his eyes closed.
She considered how to heighten his pleasure further, then softly caressed the head of his cock.
Astarion whined, his body writhing at the bolt of pleasure that shot through him, the sensation almost pushing him over the edge.
“Not yet,” she warned, “You’ll have to beg me for it.” She ran her finger over his tip, spreading his precum in slow circles, but doing nothing more.
She could feel him throbbing, wonderfully hard and hot against her fingers; she knew it wouldn’t be long at all.
He attempted to glare at her, but only managed a pout. He gave up, expression changing to one of wanton, desperate need.
“Please, Ban. Let me come.”
She didn’t need to be asked twice. Ban captured his lips, wrapping her hand around his neglected, aching cock.
It did, indeed, not take long at all. She stroked him a few times and he plummeted over the edge into bliss. He shivered head to toe, lips opening in a noiseless gasp; his head flew back and he arched into her. His legs spasmed; she quickly steadied him with her free hand, gently holding his back as he came undone.
She continued stroking him, milking every drop of come until it was just shy of too much and he shuddered.
When he finally opened his eyes again, she lifted her stained hand to her mouth, sucking each finger methodically, gazing at him adoringly.
“You…” Astarion shook his head. He looked down; seeing both their bodies streaked with his spend sent another shiver of satisfaction racing through him. After such an intense experience, he didn’t quite have his vocabulary back yet. Instead he gave her a quick kiss.
He slowly raised himself up off the wooden cock, gingerly taking a seat on the bed. Ban stood, removing the harness before joining him.
The moment she was in bed he pulled her close.
“Would you want something for yourself too?” he asked. He would gladly reciprocate, but he was feeling exhausted.
She shook her head, smiling softly at him. “Tonight was for you and I enjoyed giving it to you. That’s enough for me.”
He planted a kiss on her cheek. “Thank you,” he whispered, “It… it helped.”
He felt valued, knowing that she did this for his pleasure; that she cared enough to attempt it for him. She had been so gentle and attentive. It was exactly what he’d needed.
Ban hummed, her own eyes drifting shut. “I love you.”
As challenging as things had been, she was grateful to be here with him; to be trusted with this side of him. Being given that trust…it aided in assuaging her lingering doubts.
“I love you too,” he mumbled as he slipped into trance.
She stayed conscious for a few more moments more, her head on his chest, listening to his heart slow as he rested.
Forever, she mused, wouldn’t be so bad after all.
#astarion#astarion baldurs gate#baldurs gate astarion#astarion x tav#astarion fic#bg3#bg3 astarion#astarion ancunin#astarion bg3#astarion x mc#astarion x female oc#astarion x f!tav#astarion x female tav#ascended astarion x tav#astarion ascended#ascendant astarion#vampire ascendant#ascended astarion#astarion angst#astarion fanfiction#astarion fanfic#bg3 fanfiction#bg3 fanfic#bg3 fic
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♔ 𝔖𝔦𝔵 ♔
• A Dozen Roses • Fairy Tale AU •
Warnings: MDNI, dead dove, incest, possessiveness, abuse of power, mentions of suicide, depictions of bodily harm, off screen death
The King sends out a courier to every neighboring kingdom before you rise from your bed the next day. Your chambermaids are all a flutter, whispering amongst themselves in hopes you won’t hear anything.
It doesn’t take long for your ladies-in-waiting to gather you from your rooms to walk with you down to the great hall. One of them discretely tells you that your Father is summoning all the lower court today for an announcement. Nerves make your hands jittery, but you keep your composure and walk sedately with your ladies. The tryst between you and the King left no physical marks and yet your entire body bears the moment deep in its bones.
The lower court members are seated and gossiping when you enter the room. Many of the lords give you dark looks with their wives and daughters looking upon you with undisguised pity. Their judging eyes are nothing new, but the room is filled with an unspoken tension. Skirts rustling, your group of ladies block you from view as best they can, ushering you to your chair.
Seated in your usual spot near the head of the table, you try to parse what the gentry are muttering to themselves but without luck. It’s all for naught as the room falls silent once the King enters with a couple of his knights. His cold eyes scan the table, landing on you for half a beat too long before shifting away to finish his perusal.
Feeling satisfied with what he finds, your Father makes his way to the head of the table. You squirm in your seat, body feeling hot under your gown at the remembrance of his touches from the night before. Heartbeat thundering loudly in your ears, you try your best to school your expression into a mildly pleasant facade. Once he reaches his chair, the knights flank either side, all three now facing the people gathered.
“Today is a day for celebration,” the King announces, voice clearly ringing out into the hall. “I have decided upon who shall have my daughter’s hand in marriage.”
Your eyes drop to the clenched fists in your lap. It’s not like you didn’t know this day would come, but the betrayal of the King choosing someone after what you have given him is breath stealing.
“She shall wed me and rule at my side as the new Queen.”
Gasps are the only thing to break the stony silence, everyone’s eyes now falling on you while you gaze wide eyed up at the man who has become your betrothed.
“My liege,” a lord at the end of the table nervously stands. “It against the law is it not? To wed with one of your own line?”
A few other men stand from their seats, chiming in with agreement, pointing out their fellow clergymen who nod along with their claims.
“Tis not right,” a wizened man steps completely away from the table. “You’ll smite us all with your blasphemous ways. We tolerated your witch wife, absolved of that sin when she took her own life.”
Your head jerks in his direction, “My mother?”
“Aye, lass,” a sneer crosses his weather worn face. “She communed with a devil and earned her fate on those cliffs. She—“
“Enough,” the King cuts off the old man’s tirade. He snaps his fingers and one of the knights leaves his side to roughly grab onto the ranting lord’s arm.
“I know what you are,” spittle flies from his lips. “Coveting her damns us all. The spawn of that heathen—“
The King nods and the knight grasps the jaw of the elderly lord. Squeezing tightly, he wrenches the old man’s mouth open, and pulls a small dagger from his side. With one quick slice, the lord’s tongue falls to the floor with a wet splat, blood bubbling from his mouth like water in a fountain.
It feels like time slows to a crawl. The old man cups his mouth, trying to stop the flow of blood and yet it drips like rubies from his wrists. A few ladies scream, including his wife, while the other lords who stood in solidarity slowly take their seats. The knight marches the elderly lord out of the hall, his garbled cries growing fainter until they are heard no more.
“I will take your concerns into consideration,” the King levels his cool gaze at every person of the lower court. “But it is my divine right to choose what I will. Any insubordination will be met with a swift rebuke.”
He claps his hands and servants flood the hall with platters of food.
“Now, let us rejoice. Enjoy this bounty provided by your King.”
He sits down, the knight standing at his side shifting to stand guard at his back. You’re unable to look at him any longer, questions running rampant in your thoughts. The old man spoke of your mother in a way you’d never heard before. Glancing down the long table, you catch sight of the man’s wife. Her glassy eyes staring vacantly at the far wall as maids quickly clean the mess left behind by her husband.
Avoiding your Father’s gaze, you force yourself to take bites off of the plate prepared for you. The jangling of armor pierces the quiet as the other knight returns, blood coating his chainmail. Your stomach roils at the knowledge of why.
Faking illness comes easily enough; you truly are not feeling yourself— it’s easily believed by your ladies-in-waiting so the King dismisses you to your chambers. Surprisingly, he does nothing more than kiss your knuckles as he bids you farewell.
Stepping out of the hall, you wave down a serving boy to summon the newly widowed lady to your rooms. She arrives looking frightened and reluctant. It takes all of your willpower to adhere to decorum and not demand answers outright like a brute.
The tale she weaves is bitter and sad; of a new bride found in the forest; whispers of her witch blood and the blood thirsty king silencing those who oppose. She speaks in urgent stilted sentences, telling you of the sadness that draped the new Queen like a leaden cloak. That she had another love before the King coaxed her away. The sudden news of a child growing inside her, a gift of their joining.
The old woman clasps your hands in hers, a tight grip that makes your knuckles hurt.
“Your mother tried to leave and your father couldn’t be seen as weak. He followed her to the sea. She would not return, even for the babe she bore. The King would have taken her by force if she did not jump. Some say she melted into the sea foam and still haunts those cliffs.”
A lady-in-waiting rushes in with scared eyes, warning of the King’s departure from the Hall.
You thank the woman and gift her a brooch for her trouble. She straightens up and gives you a solemn nod before leaving your chambers. The maids bustle around you, ushering you into a chair and stoking the fire. You avoid their presence, the thinly concealed pity coating their tongues.
Once they leave, you find your mother’s journal and begin to reread the passages in a new light. Your mother knew she could not keep a journal secret from your father. All of her possessions were buried or burned in honor of her passing. Angry tears fill your eyes as you read over the description of her ancestors—your ancestors.
From her writings, you now knew what it meant for her to give herself back to the sea. That old woman was right even if she did not know it; your mother melted into the foam like her mother before her and her mother before her. A note of longing and resentment that the forest witch could not do as such; that wood magic had its own rules that did not cede to the waves of her home.
As the sun begins to set, a blistering determination blooms in your chest like a briar rose. You ready a small satchel of the items you think you’ll need: the little jewelry you own, your mother’s journal, the apples left near your table. Hiding it while you’re alone, you wait, and once the chambermaids ready you for bed and depart, you slip into the simplest dress you own and make your bid for freedom.
You don’t have much of a plan, but you know that you cannot stay, not with these questions burning your mind. The forest witch is closest; hoping she yet still lives.
It’s easier than you thought, making your way from your rooms to the edge of the garden in the dark. The guards patrol at intervals easily skirted around and the darkened forest beckons you into its shadowy arms.
Taking a deep breath, you charge forward, hope a small flutter of wings.
#dead dove#king!leon s kennedy x princess!reader#king!leon#princess!reader#fem!reader#dark content#dont like dont read#re au#fairy tale au#leon s kennedy x reader#leon kennedy x reader
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Andromeda and Perseus: Destined
Prologue
Harry Potter Masterlist
Series Masterlist
Moodboards
Welcome to the first part of Andromeda and Perseus: Destined!!!! I am SO excited to start this and see where this goes. Thank you to everyone who took a chance on this fic. Really, from the bottom of my heart, thank you💚💜 Now, on with the show…
P.S.: please tell me what you think about this and if I should improve it and republish it later. If you can’t already scared, I’m scared out of my mind😭
May 29th, 1986
Outside Malfoy Manor
“Tag! You’re it!” The sound of the four children playing outside Malfoy Manor, not a care in the world. While inside the Manor, more nefarious dealings are going on…
Theodore Nott, Y/N Riddle, Mattheo Riddle, and Draco Malfoy were inseparable for their age, though each had their favorite. Y/N aside Theodore and Mattheo aside Draco. Neither of the four was rarely seen far from the other, the group causing mischief when their parents weren’t looking (or in the twins’ case, their caretakers, the Malfoy’s).
As time sees it currently, the Core Four as they so deemed themselves, were playing tag. Currently, the older of the twins–Mattheo–was the tagger, heading straight for his sister, laughing maniacally.
“Come on, Y/N/N! Give your big brother a hug,” the Riddle boy tumbles towards his sister (who currently is using Theodore as a shield), arms wide open.
Y/N laughs, shielding herself from her brother, “Teddy, save me!”
“Don’t worry! I got you,” the curly-haired Nott boy shields the tiny girl from her bumbling brother.
Mattheo comes barreling into Theo saying, “You’re it, Theo!”
Y/N quickly lets go of the boy and runs with the other two, laughing and yelling. Mattheo and Y/N go running to Draco trying to sway Theodore to go towards him instead. Though making the mistake of looking back, Y/N runs into her brother, making him fall onto the Malfoy boy. Theodore, not seeing what had occurred between the three, preceded to fall onto all three.
For a split second, everything goes quiet between the four. Each eyeing the other intently. Suddenly, a chorus of laughs erupts from the Core Four. The laughs were the loudest and the hardest they had ever shared (though not saying much as they were all of six at the time).
None of the children knew it, but this would be one of the last times they would ever laugh nearly as hard until they reached their mid-twenties. Because in a few years time, things would take a drastic turn for the worse. The stars would seem darker, memories would seem bleaker, and happiness would feel as if a thing of the past.
Another thing none of the children knew was what dealings were currently unfolding inside the house between Lucius Malfoy and Theodore Nott Sr., nor what was brewing between two certain children currently staring at each other intently with happiness within their eyes. Not knowing how much truth the nicknames they had deemed each other with would hold…
The three boys stood, Y/N still lying content on the drive of Malfoy Manor.
Theo held out his tiny hand smiling the biggest smile he ever smiled, “Ready, Andromeda?”
Y/N grabbed his tiny hand with her own, the same infectious smile gracing her face, “Ready, Perseus.”
They were in fact NOT READY…
May 29th, 1986
Inside Malfoy Manor
“That settles it then.” The strict voice of Lucius Malfoy emanates through the room, “Your boy and the sole daughter of the Dark Lord will be wed in the summer of their sixth year.”
Theodore Nott Sr. nods stiffly, his Italian accent prominent as he voices, “A match of the Dark Lord himself.”
The wives of the two Death Eaters–Narcissa Malfoy and Circe Nott, best friends–look at each other in trepidation, already aware of their husband’s intentions beforehand. The knowing look they gave each other calmed and confirmed their worried thoughts of their husband’s business dealings. Wishes for the children to be able to choose their own destinies (although, both knew that the younger Riddle twin and the Nott boy would end up in each other's arms either way) swirling unsaid through the air.
Outside, the rain starts. The children rush inside in, hushed whispers dissipating as they reach the eyes of the adults sensing the serious atmosphere, smiles still apparent on their faces.
Narcissa and Circe give each other one last glance before they turn to the Core Four and smile. “Come here little ones,” the voice of Narcissa rang out through the lounge room, opening her arms. The children rush towards their respective mother figures, going on about their day of tag.
Lucius and Nott Sr. reenter the room calling the attention of the children. Theodore Sr. clears his throat, “Theodore, Y/N. Would you please join us?”
The brown-haired boy and the h/c girl look to each other and join Theo’s father and Y/N’s temporary father figure inside the large, dark office.
Malfoy gestures to two seats before the best friends, “Sit. We have much to discuss…”
That evening, the Nott boy and the Riddle girl lost the first piece of their innocence, learning as to what was to be expected of them. At the age of six, both betrothed to each other for an eternity.
At least they would always be each other’s Perseus and Andromeda…
Next Chapter…
———————————————————————————-
I CANT believe it, first chapter of Perseus and Andromeda: Destined already out! I truly cannot believe it! This is my first real fic, and I am absolutely besotted for it to actually come to fruition. Thank you to ALL of you whether you’re new or old.
I’m sure you guys are just as excited as I am to join Theo and Y/N on their journey of love, heart-break, and everything in-between. (Little spoiler alert: they both receive the happy ending they deserve.)
As always, advice is ALWAYS appreciated, along with comments, likes, and of course: reblogs.
Again, THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!!!💚💜 I love you all!! Always feel free to talk to me, whether you need to get something off your mind or talk about something totally insane, I WILL BE THERE!
Taglist:
@elsie-bells @cinderellawithashoe @niktwazny303 @claranunez @desiray562 @jetblackpayne @fandom-life-12 @hanversace @trshngyn @silencionyx @c-dizzle99 @starmansirius @ssc7514 @amwhy
#theodore nott x riddle!reader#theodore nott#theodore nott x reader#theodore nott x you#theodore nott smut#x reader#mattheo riddle#lorenzo berkshire#pansy parkinson#draco malfoy#blaise zabini#enzo berkshire#lorenzo zurzolo#lorenzo zurzolo x reader#slytherin#ravenclaw#harry potter x reader#harry potter#hermione granger#ron weasley#luna lovegood#narcissa malfoy#narcissa black
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❥ 𝙥 𝙥𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙧
trent frederic.
word count: 4.2k
warning: explicit content
"she wet in the shower" — gunna
A/N: this was an anonymous request for trent smut w/ a college student. so of course, i had to add some angst—makes it more fun. not to mention how much i love him, so who am i to deny it?! hope you enjoy! :)
- - -
“Do you think you’ll be able to come out soon?”
Trent’s hopeful tone of voice rang through the phone as you held it up to your ear, sitting comfortably in the quiet bedroom of your apartment. A pang of guilt washed over you. You already knew the answer, and it wasn’t the one he was looking for.
He and you first met when you were a freshman in college. He was a sophomore. You started dating quickly after. Now, you were a senior and he was playing in the NHL halfway across the country. But you lived in Wisconsin, so it wasn’t often that you got to see each other. It was difficult for him to visit during the team’s breaks, especially when the rest of his family was based in St. Louis. And you, on the other hand, were far too busy with work and school to make the extensive trips out.
“I don’t think so,” you finally sighed, pulling your knees into your chest. “I’ve been so busy, and I just—fuck, I miss you, but I can’t. And I’m so tight on money right now.”
“I’ll pay for it,” he pushed.
“Trent, I can’t,” you frowned, resting your chin on your knee. “Believe me—if I could, I’d already be there by now. It’s just…too much.”
A beat of silence followed, and you could practically picture the dejected look on his face. You knew he was still there—the soft noise of his breathing that came through the receiver told you so—but he waited to speak. He was running through any possible solutions in his head, yet not a single one was worthy of voicing.
“I want to see you,” he finally spoke. “I’m sick of only talking to you through the goddamned phone. It feels like this isn’t even real anymore.”
“Not real?” you asked, lips parted in shock. “Trent, what part of this isn’t real?”
“I—I don’t know. Look, I,” he breathed, “it’s just hard to watch all of the guys have their girlfriends here while mine is eleven hundred miles away and has barely even met any of them, alright?”
“Oh,” you spoke quietly, nodding your head as you took in his words. “So that’s it, huh? That’s the problem, isn’t it?” You fell back against your headboard, “You finally admit it, then. It’s because I’m not like them.”
“I never—”
“Oh, save it, Trent!” you shouted. “We knew this was what it would be like when the time came and we agreed to stay together. We agreed to make it work. Do you have any idea how much I’ve sacrificed to even be able to visit and see you when I do?”
You swallowed thickly, “I have juggled so many things in the past year and all I wanted was a little bit of sympathy from you. Christ’s sake, Trent, I know it sucks. I know, okay? But I am trying so goddamn hard to find the time to just talk to you like this right now!”
“That’s my whole point,” he retorted firmly, his voice irritated. “It’s like I never see you anymore. And when I come back, I have to decide between seeing you or my family, and you always make me choose them. So it’s pretty fucking frustrating to see everyone else have their girlfriends or their wives there when you barely get to talk to yours,” he took a breath. “This barely feels like anything anymore.”
“What, so you’re just going to act like I’ve never done anything for you? Like I haven’t been working day in and day out to make as much time for you as I can? I did everything for you when you still went to school here and this is the thanks I get?” you firmly stood your ground. “Yes, Trent, I know I’m not there. I know that. And god, I miss you more than anything—”
“Then come.”
“Jesus Christ, Trent, I can’t!”
You shook your head and sat up on your bed once more. You could only be thankful that you lived alone in your off-campus apartment, with all the back and forth you were having. “You can’t come here, and I can’t go there. That was the understanding when we agreed to make things work,” you lectured. “And trust me, it hurts me too. Fuck, it hurts to see people I don’t even know with their boyfriends. So don’t act like you’re the only one who’s hurting from this.”
“If this is making it work, then I don’t know what to do anymore.”
“Trent—”
“I’m just,” he shook his head, “god, I’m tired of this.”
Tears pricked at your eyes, the fear of what he’d say next slowly beginning to tear at your heartstrings. Although you hadn’t seen much of each other in recent years, Trent meant the world to you. He’d done just about everything in his power to keep you happy before he moved. And even after, he tried to see you as much as he could; as much as time would allow.
So the thought of what he might’ve been getting at made you sick to your stomach.
“You cannot put this on me,” you told him through the phone, fingers tightly gripped around the metal as if dropping it would make you lose him for good. “You have no. Right,” you swallowed, nostrils flared and teeth gritted. “It’s so fucking unfair.”
“You know what’s unfair?” His question lingered in the air, and you kept your mouth shut. It wasn’t something that you were meant to answer. So you waited.
“Being forgotten.”
And that was your final straw.
“Fuck you,” you sobbed, a tear cascading down your cheek. “If this whole long-distance thing wasn’t enough for you, then you should’ve just broken it off before.”
“I just wanted to see you.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not the one that left you, Trent.”
Your phone was face down on the bed almost instantly after you hung up. Any emotions you were desperately trying to suppress came to the surface, bringing you to tears as you buried your face into your knees. It all finally came to a head, and you couldn’t bear the outcome. Heavy sobs left your lips, pried relentlessly from your throat as guilt ripped through you. Your body refused to let up for even a second; not until every last drop of emotion was ripped from you.
And finally, once it was, you lay restless in your bed until morning, mind unable to escape the intruding idea of never seeing him again.
Hours turned into days, days into weeks of not hearing from him. Since that night, you began to work yourself harder, picking up hours to fill up the time you’d be alone. You couldn’t let yourself think about it, or else you’d break.
It had been almost a month since. You heard a knock on your door as you were headed for the bathroom, about to shower after another long shift. You were prepared for it to be another one of your friends. They’d been showing up at your door for days, trying to break you out of your funk, which only irritated you further. You sighed and tightened your robe, then walked to the door and swiftly opened it.
“For the last time, I’m fine—”
It wasn’t your friends.
Surprise laced your expression. Trent was standing on the other side of the doorway, hands stuffed into his pockets. His body was tense as he stood silently.
“Trent,” you finally whispered.
He stepped closer, eyes boring into yours when your head tilted back to look at him. His lips parted to speak, but you gave him no such chance when you threw your arms around him. Any emotions that you’d suppressed immediately surfaced, tears streaming down your cheeks as you buried your face into his chest.
“Shh,” he cooed, hands rubbing gently up and down your back.
His hand came up to your cheek when you pulled back, using his thumb to gently wipe it dry. The warmth of his touch radiated through the skin and you felt a sense of familiarity, of comfort being in his hold again.
“I’m so sorry,” you cried softly, your arms tightening around his midsection.
“God, no, don’t,” he hesitated, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, “please, don’t apologize. None of this is your fault.”
He frowned, “It’s mine. I shouldn’t have acted like such a baby.”
“But I just got angry. I didn’t even consider how you’d—”
“Hey,” he sternly interrupted, pulling your body into his. “This was on me. I knew how busy you’d be when we decided to stay together. I was upset that I couldn’t see you and I blamed you for that,” he breathed. “You didn’t deserve that. Not after everything you’ve done to make this work. I didn’t do my part.”
Another tear fell from your eye, burning the skin in its path. “I wasn’t trying to make you feel like this wasn’t real anymore,” you frowned.
“You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m just…dumb.”
“And I blamed you for leaving when you had no choice.”
He sighed deeply, urging your head to his chest. “It’s only a month left until you’re out, right?” he asked and you nodded, confirming his inquiry. “Okay. So we only have to tough out one more month of this…And then it’s over.”
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered.
“It’s okay,” you finally spoke, leaning into him. “I am, too.”
You finally leaned up to kiss him and he quickly reciprocated, pulling your chest flush against his. His head craned to the side, deepening the kiss and turning it into something more than just making up lost time. You jumped into his arms, wrapping your legs tightly around his waist. He hummed against your lips, fingers gripping the underside of your thighs to support your weight.
“I was about to,” you muttered between kisses, “shower.”
“Explains the robe.”
He began walking forward, carrying you down the hallway as you remained perched on his waist. The soft material of the robe slid off of your thighs, exposing them to the cool air and allowing you to feel his bare palms around them. The ring that sat on his right index finger dug into the soft skin as he reached the door to your bathroom.
“Got room for one more?” he teased as he lowered you to your feet.
“Maybe,” you giggled in response, hands resting atop his shoulders. “Who’s asking?”
His fingers toyed with the belt on your robe, slowly beginning to loosen it around your waist. He lowered his head, forehead nearly touching yours, and softened his voice, “Someone who hasn’t been alone with his girlfriend in a long time.”
“Hm,” you considered, fingers dancing along the back of his neck, “I think something can be arranged, then.”
The robe’s soft fabric fell open as he let go and brought his hands to his shirt, removing it in one go. With that, you slipped the rest off and stepped into the shower, then quickly turned on the water as he rid himself of the rest of his clothing. As you waited, you shampooed your hair, thoroughly rinsing it out and basking in the warmth of the water over you.
It wasn’t long before the curtain opened and in stepped Trent, who had discarded all but his silver chain, including the ring he wore just moments before.
“God, have you gotten bigger?” you asked, hands traveling up his arms. “Or has it been that long?”
“Maybe you’ve just gotten smaller.”
You rolled your eyes promptly, chuckling softly before leaning up to kiss him again, allowing the hot water to cascade slowly down your back. You flipped your bodies around and his hair grew darker as it slowly dampened, curls dissipating as they flattened atop his head. You were quick to run your hands along his upper body, palms grazing the skin of his chest down to his stomach. Your touch earned a groan of approval from his lips as you and your body swiftly moved down.
Down to your knees, even, right in front of him.
A few soft, teasing kisses were pressed to his tip before you drew his cock into your warm mouth. A large hand snaked into your hair, roughly gripping the wet strands as he turned just slightly, back now facing the wall. The hot water coated his body, allowing your lips to glide smoothly along his length, teeth lightly grazing the skin.
“Fuck, I missed you,” he drawled, hand setting your pace as the steam from the water rose up around you.
Slowly, he began to pump his hips, tip hitting the back of your throat with each gentle thrust. His head drew back, pressing against the cool, wet tile as he sucked air through his teeth. Your nose nearly came into contact with his pubic bone as you took as much of him as your mouth would allow. But as much as he would’ve wanted to, he refrained from forcing you down.
Instead, he relished in the feeling of your pretty little mouth wrapped around his cock again for the first time in months.
Deep breaths left his mouth in the form of groans, his lips parted and face contorting with pleasure. Soon his head was off the wall again as he looked down, driven wild by the sight before him—his girlfriend on her knees in front of him, looking back up at him through tattered lashes, sporting stains of mascara that ran down her cheeks.
It was nearly enough to send him over, and you felt him growing more tense. The grip on your hair tightened as he sped up your pace just slightly, a choked moan escaping your lips and humming against his skin. His free hand darted out and pressed firmly against the fogged glass door, aiding him in maintaining any sort of composure he could conjure up.
Just as he was about to warn you of how close he was, you slid him out of your mouth. When your eyes flitted up, they were met with his disapproving glance, chest rising and falling as he breathed deeply.
“Why did you stop?”
“To irritate you,” you scrunched your nose. “But mostly to tease you.”
Light kisses were intricately pressed to his tip, the action just perfectly denying him enough sensation to fulfill his needs. But enough to make him ache with want, with need; the need of release. Of breaking the taut line holding him together. He was on the brink, and you knew it, but you were denying him.
How cruel.
Maybe it was a form of payback for the argument he started a few weeks before. For making you think you were broken up for all that time. Something like that, he convinced himself. All he knew was that you had every intention of making him wait, and he had no choice but to accept it.
“Mm,” you hummed, the fingers of one hand curling around his length and the others around his thigh as your lips trailed the same torturous kisses down to the base and back up. His hand brushed through the dripping wet strands of dark ginger hair atop his head, feet planted deeply into the floor below him.
Unfortunately for you, he wasn’t the only one who craved his release. And fortunately for him, you were finally willing to give him the satisfaction.
So you drew just the head back into your warm mouth, tongue swirling around the swollen area tactfully. Soft lips glided along his skin as you slid them further down on him, and the line finally snapped like a twig. The aftermath flooded your senses, his taste gathering on your tongue as the sound of his groans filled your ears.
And his traces went smoothly down your throat with a prompt swallow.
“Fuck,” he finally managed, eyes following you as you rose to your feet.
“That,” you started, licking the remainder from the corner of your mouth, “was for that phone call.”
“Yeah?” he asked, a smirk settling in on his face.
“Mhm,” was your sharp-tongued response, bringing a grin to his lips. You reached for the conditioner, “And you deserved it.”
He nodded as you squeezed a bit into your hand, afterward lathering it in your hair. He brought his hands up to your head and tilted it back, using his fingers to rinse out the cream gently.
“Maybe I did,” Trent hoisted you up, an involuntary gasp falling from your lips.
“—But now it’s my turn.”
Your back pressed against the cool tile as he turned your bodies to the side, water now hitting him at an angle as he pinned you up. You breathed out sharply from the force at which you hit the wall, lips parting as your gaze fell on his grin-inhabited face.
The heat formed beads of sweat on both you and Trent’s foreheads, mixing with the hot water as it continued to fall behind his body. He leaned up and connected his lips with yours, a hand running through your equally wet strands before sliding down your tense figure. The other locked fingers with your own and roughly pressed the back of your hand against the tile above your head, drawing a needy moan from your throat.
Your free hand slid up his front and came into contact with the cold, wet metal of his chain. God, you loved it. And he knew it, which was why he never took it off at moments like this; whether it was the tag tapping against your cheek as he thrust into you or it pressing into your skin as your back arched against him, or even just the sight of it poking out from under his shirts, it set you ablaze, similar to many other things about him. Like his hair. Or his hands.
Or the head of his cock as it dragged along your soaked folds, teasing you until you begged for more.
Which, oddly enough, was exactly what was happening to you then.
“Trent—fuck,” the words weakly fell, “please.”
His lips were at your neck, working the soft, damp skin just as you did to his body just minutes before, only now the added pressure of him at your entrance came into play.
“What is it, hm?” he mumbled, trailing down to your collarbones and back up.
“Need to feel you,” you breathed heavily, “now.”
Lips stretched into a grin against your skin just before he pushed himself into you, allowing you to sink down onto him properly. Your hands quickly lifted and tenaciously gripped his shoulders for stability. His head lifted from your neck and fell back, mouth open as he exhaled deeply from the pressure of you enveloping him. He was hardening at an unfaltering rate from the sensation, and his mind was running a mile a minute.
Because no effort he made to relieve himself when he was alone could ever replace the feeling of your inner walls constricting around him.
And fuck, did he miss that feeling.
Finally, your boyfriend was buried inside you again. Finally, he was stretching you out again, occupying every last inch of space that your body would allow. The feeling was all too familiar, but that was what you loved most; how perfectly he fit you, and how it was still able to make you see stars, regardless of how many times you’d felt it before.
His hips instantly moved in a controlled rhythm, leaving no time to exchange pleasantries. Hard thrusts drove your vulnerable body up the wall, large hands now having moved to your hips, fingers pressing firmly into the wet skin.
He wasn’t going to waste any time taking things slower, softer as he normally would. Oh, no—there was no time for that. He needed you oh, so desperately at that moment—to take you. Hard. Fast. That’s what months of deprivation did to a guy like him; a guy who hadn’t felt the touch of his girlfriend in so long that it hurt.
Luckily for him, he wasn’t the only one starving with want.
So the payoff was all the sweeter for the both of you as each torturous thrust forced the tip of his strained, desperate cock to brush just against the right spot within you. Various expletives filled the fogged air of the bathroom, sounding in the form of your weakened voice. Nail-shaped craters formed on the skin of his back while he roughly pistoned his hips forward and back, relentlessly pushing your back against the slick wall behind you.
“So glad you live alone and not on that fucking school ground,” he mumbled, pressing kisses to your exposed shoulder.
Usually, he was more gentle with you, and you’d grown accustomed to that. You liked it that way. But you couldn’t deny how much you loved, in contradiction, the times he decided that gentle wasn’t enough. That it simply wouldn’t do. When all he could think of was the burning desire to pin you to the wall and fuck you dumb with pleasure because he was so damn starved from not seeing you as often as he should. Because he knew better than anyone else that you could take it.
You’d no doubt have prints on your back from the incessant pressure of him pressing you against the tile behind you, and you briefly considered the thought. It left your mind quicker than it came, however, because it wouldn’t be the only thing left behind on your body from the exchange that night.
They’d pair nicely with the marks that extended from your neck to your collarbones.
“Close, Trent,” you muttered, head falling forward and resting atop his shoulder. “I’m…fuck, I’m close.”
A phrase that had become so familiar to him, so routine, as if it were some sort of perverted Bible verse you’d been trained to memorize. One that he’d never get sick of hearing because he knew that every time he was the reason for it.
Of course, you didn’t have to say it, because he already knew you were there. And if you weren’t, someone ought to have explained to him why you felt so tight, all of a sudden.
“Come on, baby,” the words rolled off his tongue languidly, “let go.”
So you did, clenching around him and crying out with a weakness that laced your voice. White hot pleasure surged through your body as he fucked you through it, his thick cock continuing to provide you more pleasure with each calculated thrust than any store-bought substitute could manage. Calloused fingers grasped urgently at the swell of your hips, the hold on you firm enough to keep you stable as you shattered around him for what felt like the first time in years.
Not a moment was wasted before ropes of hot liquid emptied into your stomach, thoroughly coating your waiting, sensitive inner walls. A satisfied groan exited his lips, the sound low in your ear, and you were sure it was the hottest thing you’d ever heard. A hand traveled up to his wet locks, pushing his head forward and allowing your mouth to envelope his in a deep kiss as his hips slowly, carefully came to a stop.
His tongue explored your mouth as if it had never been in its vicinity before, head tilting to give himself easier access. Meanwhile, he pulled out and began to lower you down, the muscles in his arms straining as they held you up for support. Your feet were once again planted on the wet, slippery floor of the shower as your spent body remained still between his large frame and the tiled wall behind you.
He pulled away and stepped back, sliding his hands off you as he turned the knob behind him to increase the water’s temperature. Then, he moved in the stream’s direction, arms reaching outward and pulling you toward him. Your back quickly came into contact with his firm chest, metal pressing against the now patterned skin as his hands placed themselves atop your slick skin.
A pair of soft lips peppered gentle kisses from your neck down to your shoulder, fingers rising to brush your hair away. The scalding hot water hit his back and extended to your exposed shoulder blades, effectively relaxing the tense muscles of your worked bodies. After all, it had been quite the bit of time since either of you had been in such a position.
“I love you,” he murmured, lips brushing against the skin of your ear as his hands ran down along your arms beside you.
Your head fell back against his chest, “I love you, too.”
He leaned down to press another kiss to your lips, arms wrapping around your waist and his hands finding purchase on your stomach, allowing him to inch your body closer to his. Both his and your eyes then fell shut as you settled into him.
It was all so…intimate; intimate in large contrast to the last time you spoke to him before he showed up at your door looking for forgiveness. And of course, he received it, because the whole disagreement was fueled by the sole fact that he simply missed the woman he loved.
The same woman who stood in his embrace as they fell into a comfortable silence, minds focused only on the sound of the water and the steam slowly rising around them.
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