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#if you think otherwise you're lying to yourself
bilbotargaryen · 1 year
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“A Ten But...” Tag
Thanks to @gummybugg for the tag! This is my very first ever tag so I hope I didn’t bastardize it too much xD
Had lots of fun with it and hope you’ll have some too!
„He’s a ten-“, Peter jumped onto the couch landing right next to Cat who immediately cuts him off: “Oh no, please don’t.” “Why?” “I don’t want anything to do with this shallow ass tiktok trend”, still, she put the book away she was reading and turned towards him to continue their conversation. “Come on!”, Peter exclaimed, “It’s fun! Not everything needs to be deep!” “Let’s do something else instead”, Cat said more excited, “How about-“ “Pizza is a ten”, Peter waited until she was done rolling her eyes, “You’d agree, right?” “Of course”, Cat was still annoyed but at least she finally joined in. “Okay, great. Pizza is a ten BUT it has pineapple on it!” “Ew”, she made a face. “It’s a ZERO!”, Bucky sat himself right next to Peter. “A -30”, Cat decided shortly after. “I’d say a seven”, Stephen, who before hid his head behind a book sitting in the  armchair next to Cat, lowered it now to participate. “You disgust me”, Cat decided immediately. “Didn’t expect anything else from the guy that eats his pizza like a spiral”, Bucky mumbled while fixating the man of the hour with a piercing look.
“What would you say?”, Cat turned to Peter who until then had followed the exchange closely. “I’d say…a three.” “a THREE?”, Cat was appalled. “And I would have trusted you with my life”, Bucky added in shock more to himself than to anyone else. “Hey”, Peter immediately began to defend himself, “There is much worse food out there!” “We’re talking about pizza!”, Cat argued “You still need to put things into perspective!” “Yes! That pineapple on pizza is a fucking crime!”
“Thor!”, Peter caught the addressee’s attention just in time before he could leave the flat, “Pizza is a ten but it has pineapple on it!” “It would seem that it would no longer be a ten but utmost a disappointment”, Thor’s deep voice and flat answer send Cat into a laughing frenzy and even the others had to chuckle, “Is that it?” “It is. Thanks for your time”, Peter pressed out in amusement. Thor left right away, now also with a smile on his face.
“Okay, let’s ask the others too! It’s been way too funny”, Peter turned to Cat, “Where’s your husband?” “Where’s yours?” “I asked first!” “I asked seco-“, she couldn’t even finish that stupid joke.
Fortunately, the former entered the living room area all by himself mere seconds later. “AH!”, Peter screamed and pointed at him, making him stop in confusion, “Answer me this: Pizza is a ten but it has pineapple on it!”
Loki slowly narrowed his eyes: “That is not a question.” “It’s”, Peter groaned, “You know that game!” “What game?” “You’re playing me! Come on, we all have given a rating so far!” “Fine”, he made a short consideration, “-10”
“HA!”, Cat gave Peter a quick slap on his upper arm in excitement, “A man of culture!” “And I thought you had taste”, Stephen noted. “He has INDEED!”, Cat couldn’t be more proud.
“Have you seen Baldur?”, Peter wanted to know in the meantime. “Fortunately not”, Loki answered and disappeared into the kitchen.
“Any word on Lucifer? Heimdall?”, Peter turned to the others but they started shaking their heads right away. “Shit”, Peter hissed, “Well, then we’ll begin the next meeting with it.”
“Seriously?”, Stephen wasn’t amused. “Yes, it’s an important survey”, Peter insisted.
Stephen went back to his book with a long sigh while Peter finally switched the topic to something more uncontroversial: Ordering proper pizza.
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I don’t have friends to tag so...feel free whoever reads this to participate! It’s an open tag!
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livvivviss · 1 month
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lazy people probably won't want to read it 🙄🙄 HAHSHDA
How to shift: EMBODY YOUR DR SELF!!
Fuck the five senses
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Most of us always focus on the process of shifting, the symptoms, the 5 senses, overanalyze our process and being very critical of ourselves, we try to analyze why we don't shift, giving ourselves excuses and explanations Saying "I didn't do enough", "I should have tried harder" I wish you guys to STOP THAT.
Actually, none of the above matters. The reason you think the methods, meditation, etc matters it's because of your assumptions and beliefs because you didn't get there and you think "you're doing something wrong" and you ARE NOT, leave that mentality behind and stop seeing shifting as a task or obligation, as something with steps that must be followed to the letter.
Stop and get back to BASICS, When you are trying to get to your DR, stop thinking and focus on "I have to get there" just think that YOU ARE THERE, think ABOUT YOU, about your dr self, who are you in your dr? This is why it is very important that you like your dr's self, and not just an "improved 2.0 me, now with ultra-powered engines" because it just makes you feel uncomfortable, and you need to feel comfortable with being your dr self, You must like being yourself, you must know yourself, dive into your brain and connect with your dr self and with who you're there.
And when you connect with who you are there, forget about everything else, forget how many breaths you have to take, what number you are on, or if you visualize enough, just connect with you, with who you are. By connecting with your 5 senses and with the environment, you are not traveling, I mean this is okay but when you're trying to shift, the shift it's in the mindset, not in the around, it happens in your subconscious, it happens when you become that person, you are becoming your dr self not your environment, WHO ARE YOU? Connect with that person. Start with "Who am I?" "What am I doing here?" "What is my name?" Until it becomes a natural flow, connect with your thoughts until it becomes a natural flow. You did it, you've shifted, when you are fully connected to your dr self and you no longer need to think like your dr self thinks, you are there, and nothing else matters, fuck if "your environment tells you otherwise", It doesn't matter what you see, hear or feel anymore, you are in your dr and you are your dr's person. You know that you're there because of your mindset, enjoy that because that is shifting, that is change, YOU HAVE TO CHANGE, this is manifesting, and manifestation happens instantly when you change your mindset.
The process of shifting doesn't have to take a long time, it doesn't have to take years, the only reason it takes you so long is because you see it as homework. Get out of that mindset, connect with yourself, change your mindset, delate everything else, stop making everything so difficult. "I didn't shift last night because-" STOP, there's no reason you haven't shifted. We shift in every decision we make, when you go to bed YOU HAVE ALREADY SHIFTED, but you are not going to accept it and you MUST accept it.
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Why you should embody your dr self (good for lazy shifters):
You should try to connect with your dr self instead of using the five senses or connecting with your dr it's because:
1. It's a bit backwards to try to connect with your surroundings instead of yourself. As I said before, you are not shifting to be your environment, you are shifting to be you, to be your dr self. (Although I'm not saying that using all 5 senses is a bad thing, but you shouldn't focus only on that)
2. Embodying your dr self bypasses all the extra shit about you just lying in your bed trying to shift. The moment you connect with your dr's self, you have already shifted, because if you were not in your dr you would not be able to access the thoughts of your dr self. And when you are focused on this, you are no longer focused on the symptoms and that is the best thing that can happen to you because YOU SHOULDN'T FOCUS ON THE SYMPTOMS because it's not a physical process, physical change comes after the change of mentality. Connecting with your dr self's thoughts is much better than memorizing affirmations and meditating, it's more natural, you enjoy it more and it's less tiring.
3. In the case that your physical environment does not end up changing, you end up connecting with your dr self (THAT IS SO IMPORTANT) you alredy had the mindset shift. And many people when they start doing all this, they start having dreams about themselves being their dr self, and having experiences in their dreams being their dr self, and that is SO GOOD (it's literally happening to me) Taking this post into account, I assure you that YOU WILL SEE CHANGES YES OR YES this is a connecting point.
• Please make this post viral, shifters need to know this 🙏🙏
This was a summary of @shaysplanett's 7 and 10 minute videos. We love her (she was really helpful to me)
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ssahotchnerr · 2 months
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HI HONEY!! I have a fic request! Based on Aaron and his love for calling the reader sweet girl/his sweet girl. Where that’s his favorite nickname for her and she loves is sm and he loves it sm AND THEYRE JUST IN LOVE. I think that would be so cute!
endearments
i'm putting a (slightly) drunk aaron take on this 🤭 cw; fem!reader, mentions of drinking, soft drunk!aaron, vague suggestion, a lot of fluff <3
You had been on the brink of dozing off, but had fought against your heavy eyelids until Aaron returned home safely. It had been guys night out; aka Dave dragging him to some top-shelf fancy bar, or whatever establishment the David Rossi enjoyed to frequent.
The slower than normal pace echoed from down the hallway - locking the door, putting his coat away, a quick check on Jack; his usual night rounds. Finally he made his way into your shared bedroom, dropping soundly onto the bed beside you with a heavy exhale. His aim, however, a bit off - he landed nearly on top of you.
You could smell the small aroma of bourbon on his breath. He always drank just enough to be tipsy, smart and conscious of avoiding a brutal hangover, or an alert tending to.
"My sweet girl."
His voice was heavenly deep, softer and smoother in its inebriated manner. It paralleled his actions: drunk Aaron meant clingy Aaron. His immediate tight hold solidified such.
"Hey," You adjusted yourself, laying more so on your side, facing him. Your voice was laced with your drowsiness; tone relaxed, content, making Aaron wonder why he didn't just stay home with you all night. "Have fun?"
"Yeah, it was nice." Your hand cupped his cheek momentarily, moving towards the nape of his neck. His glassy eyes admired you.
"Dave find any new wives?"
Aaron snorted gently, "Not this time."
You hummed in response, fingers running through the back of his hair. You switched between brushing through the short strands, and gently scratching his scalp. Aaron could've groaned at the feeling (he may have, he honestly couldn't recall if he did.) "Poor wing-manning on your end, then."
"Always next time." His head dropped into your neck, immediately pressing a gentle kiss into your skin. Then another, and another. His words were muffled when he spoke, "I missed you though, sweet girl. Wished you were with me the whole time."
You immediately flushed. While Aaron supplied you with multiple terms of endearment, this was without a doubt your favorite. It simply made you feel loved within its purest state. Adored.
Whereas Aaron loved the way it rolled off his tongue. It fit, just like the way his hand fit perfectly into yours, or the way your body molded perfectly into his - just like now. Not only that, he loved your reaction - the pet name turned you into a flustered, shy mess within seconds.
But now, in his drunken state, he wasn't saying so to fluster you, but it was the natural affection you caused him to possess, only elevated. His words rushed out effortlessly, freely. More insistent.
"You're blushing."
You scoffed lightly, all in amusement. "How do you know?"
"Because you're my sweet girl." His words slurred slightly, flowing together. If you didn't know any better, he was also falling asleep. He leaned up to kiss your lips, before his head dropped hastily back down onto your chest. "I know what I'm saying.
"You're drunk. Do you really?" You teased, your eyes narrowing with a small smile on your face.
"How dare you question otherwise."
You laughed softly, sitting up from your lying position, causing Aaron to whine as he slid off, breaking contact. "Let's get you out of these clothes."
Despite the shadows on half his face, half illuminated by the glow of the lap, you could see his lips tugging into a mischievous smirk.
"Wipe that look off your face Hotchner."
He allowed it to linger for just a playful moment longer, before his facial features relaxed, allowing you to pull off his clothes. You tossed them onto the ground carelessly - they could be dealt with in the morning. You tossed him yet another lighthearted glare at the second smirk that followed when you reached his belt buckle.
As tempting as it was, now wasn't the time.
In just his boxers and tee, his arm wrapped around your middle, pulling you as close as he could possibly get you. His face, right back into the crook of your neck. "My sweet girl."
His repetitive words left him in a sigh, quiet enough you wouldn't have known he mumbled them if it weren't him speaking directly into your skin, or for them vibrating into you.
You wiggled your hand out from his hold, draping it over his forearm and lazily tracing your fingertips along the veins his arms possessed.
"I love it, you know." You mumbled into the darkness, scooting back against him, burying your head into your pillow. Confirming the proximity, you almost couldn't be any closer. "Being yours."
He was fading fast, but still awake and aware enough to respond, "Can't imagine anything else."
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lovebugism · 2 months
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✶ ┄ LOVE AND MERCY !
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summary: you're more stubborn than the apocalypse. eric is the personification of a sad, wet dog. your world's collide when the world as you know it ends. (6.3k)
pairing: eric (a quiet place day one) / f!reader
contents: strangers to friends to lovers, a couple of losers in love, apocalyptic setting, angst, hurt/comfort cw for mentions of grief and anxiety, brief mentions of injuries, and smut 18+
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You wake up that morning in a bed that is not yours, in a room that does not belong to you, in an abandoned cabin you turned into a safe house three weeks ago.
Everything around you is foreign. Including the world outside these rotted walls, which turned entirely on its head in a blink. A blink that somehow turned into three months gone.
The only thing familiar to you now is the stranger lying in the bed beside you — on the right side that he has wordlessly claimed as his own. Before Eric was a guy you shared beds with, he was a guy you found in the rain. A boy with big, wet, puppy dog eyes who followed you like a stray after the world fell.
That was all he was to you for a month straight. A burden. Deadweight. An ever-anxious being that had nearly gotten you killed more times than you could count. You never saw him any differently until you almost died — a certain death involving you, an old beartrap, several aliens with uber-sensitive hearing, and a stupid boy who was too dumb to leave you behind. 
“I can’t leave you,” Eric blubbered through tears, whimpering in faint whispers so the blind monsters wouldn’t hear. “I won’t.”
“Then you won’t make it at all, you idiot,” you spat through gritted teeth, eyes wide and stern and glittering. You wouldn’t let yourself cry, not even with your leg all but torn to shreds, but Eric’s sudden stubbornness scared you. Why now? Of all times? you thought to yourself, Why does he have to be so stubborn now?
“I wouldn’t want to,” Eric promised, bloodied hands trembling where they gripped your arms. “I wouldn’t want to make it without you.”
That was a month or so ago, but you carry the horrors of that day still. 
In the vivid nightmares that rattle your bones. In the marred skin of your ankle, hidden beneath bandages, slowly healing with each passing day. And in the strange boy with puppy dog eyes who still hasn’t left your side.
Let me check your leg, Eric scribbles on a notepad. 
His handwriting is slanted and small and hardly legible — fitting for a man whose mind is always racing faster than he can keep up. 
The marker is fading slowly, too, dying from excessive use because the majority of your conversations are spoken through written words on a page. You’ve gone through a notebook or three already.
You snatch the notepad from his grip to write a response of your own. Eric peels the tattered blanket from your body to survey the gauze around your ankle. He peeks beneath the bandage, and his chest pinches at the sight — not because of his sensitive stomach, but because of the harsh reminder of the day he almost lost you.
The paper swishes faintly when you turn the notebook back to him. Okay, Dr. Eric :P, you’ve written in sloppy cursive. The boy grins at the mischievous look in your eyes.
“That’s Doctor Eric Esquire to you,” he corrects in a whisper that makes his accent sound more posh than usual. He smooths the gauze back into place with a gentle hand and says, “You’re healing fine, I think. I’ll have to go out and scavenge for more bandages soon, but these should last for another…”
The sounds of your rapid scribbling fill the quiet cabin. Eric trails off in wait, wide eyes darting from the marker in your hand to the pinched look of concentration on your face. 
He sees a strange sort of giddiness sparking in your otherwise serious features that makes him fearful. Intrigued, yes, but still distantly fearful. All your ideas tend to get him into trouble.
The notebook turns to him again. His stomach does a backflip.
Wanna go on an adventure?
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“This is… Not what I was expecting,” Eric muses beneath the sounds of a rushing waterfall. 
His words echo slightly in the expanse of the dank cave. It’s the first time you’ve heard his voice in full volume, deep and accented and smooth. His pretty whispering annoyed you to no end back when he was just a stranger with exactly zero survival instincts. Now, you never want him to stop talking.
“Well, that’s why it’s an adventure,” you lilt, wiping water from your brow with the neck of your t-shirt. 
Your clothes stick to you in places where the waterfall had splashed you on your way underneath it. The still air of the cave, strangely cool compared to the humid air outside of it, makes you fight back a shiver.
Eric eyes you from a distance, features swirled in a quiet concern. It’s impossible to relish in this little ounce of peace when you have the kind of mind he does — the kind of mind that’s always anxious and always filled with thoughts of you. 
He cares so much for you, far more than he planned to, that it’s made him chronically fearful. He’s grown to realize, since he met you, that the two words are rather synonymous. You can’t have love without fear — and what is there to be fearful for, if not for the ones you love?
“Your bandages really shouldn’t be getting wet, you know?”
You scoff and limp further into the damp hollow. The quiet sound of your steps reverberates within the stone walls, along with the subtle scuffing of your bad foot. “You said I was healing okay, remember?” you huff and drop the basket in your elbow onto the cobblestone.
“I said you were healing fine,” Eric chuckles, crossing his arms over his chest. “There’s a difference.”
“Not really,” you shrug with a scrunched nose, flashing him a fleeting glance over your shoulder. You turn away again and wince at the distant ache in your ankle when you crouch. 
Sometimes the scars hurt like they’re still fresh, still weeping scarlet and throbbing like a new wound. Eric’s not a doctor, but he tells you that it’ll probably be that way forever. “Phantom pains, I think they call it,” he says in a posh accent that makes him sound more official than he really is. You’re inclined to believe him, anyway.
The boy watches as you sort through the wicker basket you stole — or borrowed, as you claim, “’cause it’s not like the owner’s coming back for it anytime soon.” It’s full of stuff you wouldn’t let him see, like it was some kind of big secret. 
He grimaces when you squat, putting unnecessary weight on a barely healing leg. He knows it hurts, even when you pretend it doesn’t — especially when you pretend it doesn’t. His chest pinches like the ache is his own. Like sympathy pains or something. He worries so much for you that you’ve given him fucking sympathy pains.
“We shouldn’t have left,” Eric agonizes, wiping a pair of anxious hands down his face. He swipes his fingers through his hair and finds the chestnut curls now partially damp. “I shouldn’t have let you leave. I mean, what if we have to run, huh? What if we have to—”
“We won’t,” you groan as you stand to full height again. You hold an old quilt in one arm and gesture wildly with the other. “That’s what the waterfall is for. They can’t hear us under here. Nothing’s coming.”
He knows you’re right, but it doesn’t worry him any less.
“How’d you even know this was out here?”
You falter for a moment. A mere blink of a second. But Eric catches it immediately because there isn’t anything about you he doesn’t instantly notice. He’s rarely ever seen you, his silver-tongued girl, so ambivalent. And something about it frightens him.
“I was… on a walk one day… while you were out scavenging—” you answer slowly, shrugging like it isn’t a big deal at all, though you immediately follow it with, “—Don’t get angry.”
Eric’s pink mouth falls softly agape, opening and closing like a fish’s might, while he tries to find the words to say. To shout. To scream. 
“Y-You... You— You left without me?” he stammers, voice booming. 
The words ring across the expanse of the shallow cave, bouncing off the damp stone walls. It’s the loudest he’s heard himself talk since the world ended, and the notion startles him. Like a dog just learning how to bark.
Eric’s breath hitches in his throat as his dark eyes widen in fear. He waits instinctively for the screeching of far-off monsters and their booming footsteps — prepares for an adrenaline rush that’ll give his weak arms the strength to carry both of you to safety.
It never comes. 
The sounds of the waterfall shield you from the war raging outside of it. 
When the panic passes, the anger resumes.
“Do you have any idea how dangerous that is?” Eric agonizes, quieter now, though the corner of his lip twitches with withheld anger. 
You keep your back to the boy and lay out the contents of the wicker basket. A floral quilt to cushion the stone flooring, two bottles of wine to share between you, several bags of stale chips, and one MP3 player that’s somehow stronger than the end of the world. You pay Eric no mind as he continues to rant behind you.
“What if you’d gotten killed? What if— What if you got lost and I couldn’t find you—?!”
“Don’t shout!” you gripe despite your own booming voice. 
“Why not?” Eric questions with a cynical laugh. “I thought nothing could hear us under here?”
You spin back around to face him, grimacing slightly when your healing wounds start to burn. You tilt your chin in a look of defiance, though your eyes sparkle faintly in the dim natural light — something mischievous and strangely shy. 
“I don’t want you to shout because I put a lot of effort into this,” you answer in a steady voice, lips quirking in a distant smile. “And we can’t enjoy it if you’re gonna be grumpy the entire time.”
Eric blinks at you for several long moments, brown eyes wide like an owl. Only then does he notice what you’d set up for him in the brief minutes he’d been blinded by his anger. A picnic of sorts — fashioned with a moth-eaten quilt, dusty wine bottles, and snacks you’d scavenged and seemingly stashed like a squirrel. It’s about as fancy as you can get in an apocalypse.
His mouth opens and closes again, this time in a quiet sort of shock. “Wh… What?”
“Well, you kinda spent your entire birthday taking care of me, so… I figured we were past due for a celebration.”
Eric’s brows pinch together. A furrow of deep thought settles between them. 
He realizes he hadn’t thought twice about his birthday till now. Hadn’t thought twice about turning another year older, just like he hadn’t thought twice about needing to be repaid for taking care of you. He did both things without thinking. He can’t control his urge to dote on you like he can’t control the existential dread of getting older.
“How’d you know it was my birthday?”
“‘Cause you told me once,” you shrug. “And I keep track of the days in my calendar, so—”
“So, you’re saying that… That you did all this...” the man laughs, gesturing to the cave and the waterfall and the wine. “For me?”
A similar-sounding laugh sputters from your own mouth ‘cause you do it all for him. From going on stupid picnics to fighting monsters from another planet. Everything you’ve done up until this point, you realize now, you’ve done for Eric. You keep on living despite the unfavorable odds for Eric.
“Of course I did. It’s not that big of a deal,” you scoff, crossing your arms over your chest to shield your bleeding heart. “I mean, you kinda saved my life. The least I can do is take you on a stupid fucking picnic.”
When you turn around again to ease yourself onto the blanket, Eric tries to make out the words to thank you. Not just for what you’ve done here, but for what you’ve done all the days since he found you. Because you’ve saved his life too, more times than he could count, actually — ‘cause that’s just what you do. You save each other and don’t think twice about it because that’s what you do when you care for someone.
He forgot all about birthdays and picnics and what it meant to be alive before he found you. And now that you’re here, you spend every single day reminding him of everything the end of the world begs him to forget.
“I’m— I’m sorry… I’m sorry for shouting at you,” Eric stammers in a sheepish murmur, scratching awkwardly at the back of his neck.
“I know,” you nod, smiling as you pat the spare spot beside you. “Now stop being weird and come sit down.”
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The wine is warm, the chips are stale, and the quilt just barely cushions the hard ground beneath you — but everything’s still somehow perfect. Your MP3 player is almost as old as you are and cracked down the middle, but the music plays just perfectly from its headphones, anyway. 
Maybe it’s perfect ‘cause it’s not perfect. 
Or maybe it’s perfect because you’re here.
You sit side-by-side on the handmade blanket, legs crossed and knees brushing, as you share an earbud between you. Conversation ebbs and flows between snacking. Music fills the silence.
I was sittin’ in a crummy movie with my hands on my chin,
All the violence that occurs, seems like we never win...
Eric tips his head back to down the rest of the cheesy crumbs in the package he holds in a pale fist. His scruffy cheeks jut like a chipmunk as he chews through the mouthful. “I missed this, you know?” he mumbles.
You set the wine bottle beside you after taking a lengthy sip, licking the bitter-sweet grape from your lips. “What?” you wonder aloud. “The wine? The Cheetos? The music?”
The boy goes quiet as he ponders the question. He figures he was talking about you, mostly — this sort of connection between humans, this sort of comfort, this sort of normalcy. The music answers your question in his silence.
—Love and mercy, that’s what you need tonight…
So love and mercy, to you and your friends tonight…
He nods anyway. “All of the above, actually…”
“You know what I miss?” you wonder beneath the rustling of the Scooby Snacks you dig your hand into. You chuck a cartoon bone into your mouth and find the graham-cracker components have gone soft with time. “I miss driving down backroads… going way faster than what’s probably allowed… with the windows down and the radio all the way up…”
Eric watches the far-off look in your eyes as you stare, unblinking, at the waterfall ahead of you. Clear water rushes from the mountain and falls hard onto the cobbles and the still water below. Rogue drops splatter inside the shallow cave, occasionally splashing you with fat droplets.
The running waterfall cast fleeting shadows over your face, littered now with faint scars. Your features are much softer than he’s used to in the natural light.
“I miss college parties,” he confesses, wiping his palms on his knees.
You wash the dry graham cracker out with another sip of wine and try not to laugh as you swallow it down.
“Why’s that funny?” Eric wonders through his own chuckle, only partially offended.
“I don’t know… I guess I just didn’t take you for a partier.”
“I wasn’t really…” he concedes with a shy shrug, gaze averted and cheeks pink. “But I was a really big fan of karaoke.”
“Well, that makes a lot more sense.”
“Doesn’t it?” Eric humors with a scrunched nose.
You tilt your head back to laugh — a pretty, airy sound that echoes within the cobbled walls, only partially drowned out beneath the rushing waterfall. You shift closer toward him when you’re upright again, probably without realizing, but Eric notices. He can’t help but notice everything you do. And he can’t help but lean instinctively closer to you, too.
He can smell the natural scent of you beneath the various surrounding ones — of freshwater, pine, and whatever cologne was spritzed on your shirt before you found it. He can smell the sweet wine on your breath, too, and he quickly realizes that you’re close enough to kiss. If only he weren’t so chicken shit.
The proximity makes his cheeks flush, though you’re not nearly as fazed by it.
“I forgot what that felt like…” you muse in a quiet voice of disbelief.
Eric smiles so hard his eyes squint. “What?”
“I don’t know… just, like, happiness? I guess?” you laugh. “I used to think that was impossible before now.”
“Yeah… Me too.” 
The conversation lulls for a moment. The music playing in your ears takes over: 
—I was standing at a bar and watching all the people there…
All the loneliness in this world, well, it’s just not fair…
You cage your smile between your teeth in a feeble attempt to conceal how wide it’s grown. Your eyes are wide and sparkling, likely from the wine, as they flit between both of his darker ones. Eric exhales a breathy chuckle in response, all giddy and nervous for a reason he can’t name (probably from the wine, too, if he had to guess).
He feels himself leaning in to kiss you before he realizes it. He only catches himself when you pull unknowingly away, reaching again for the glass bottle at your side. His heart drops to his swirling stomach as his cheeks flare a deep pink.
“I’m glad you followed me like a creep for a week straight, you know that?” you confess with a teasing squint in your eyes as you bring the lip of the bottle to your mouth.
Eric scoffs at the memory, which feels like yesterday and ancient history all at once.
He was by himself when the world first fell — a stranger in a strange country, and the loneliest he’d ever been in his life. And, perhaps, the most scared, too. 
Then, all of a sudden, he sees this girl rush out of an alleyway and into a monster-infested street to save a dog from an otherwise unavoidable death. Eric watched from a distance as you returned the scared pup to its owners — a very young couple cowering behind a car, not that much older than you. 
You pointed them in the direction of a military base setting up camps for civilians then went the opposite way. Away from guaranteed protection. Like the safest hands were your own. 
Eric made the quick decision to follow you as you went. He figured if you were brave enough to save some dog that wasn’t yours, and stare death directly in the face while you did it, then you could do just about anything.
He didn’t know, then, that he was making the best decision he’d ever made in his life.
“Well, I’m glad you didn’t pummel me in the face for following you like a creep.”
“I should’ve,” you quip. “But I liked your company too much, I guess…”
“Liked?” the boy parrots, laughing loudly at the turn of phrase. “Is this your way of saying you’re finally tired of me?”
You roll your eyes and hide your smirk behind the neck of the wine bottle. “Do you think I would’ve done all this shit if I wasn’t the least bit fond of you, Eric?”
The question is rhetorical, but you expect a lighthearted quip from the British boy anyway. Your words seem to settle something heavy on him, though. It’s the very first time you’ve admitted out loud, without a shred of sarcasm, how much you really care for him. 
Eric forgets to say anything at all. The cave fills with a loud silence. The steady drumming of the waterfall and the whisper of rustling trees. Strangely peaceful for the end of the world. 
“Wanna know something wild?” he asks you after a few long moments. His accent makes the words sound heavy on his tongue. Your brows raise to egg him on, and he continues, stumbling over himself in the process. “I’m… I’m not happy the world ended, but… I am— I am glad that it brought me you.”
Your breath catches. It’s the most profound thing anyone’s ever said to you, you think. Way deeper than any measly ‘I love you.’ And how are you meant to respond to that? To his confession that the end of the world was worth finding you? There’s no string of words in the English language that could possibly compare to that.
Eric waits for your response with bated breath. He hopes for an affirmation of your similar affection, of course, but a rejection would be better than nothing at all. He blinks at you with hopeful chocolate eyes, then flinches away when you laugh.
“You’re such a sap,” you say, giggling, as you reach suddenly for his face.
You cradle his scruffy jaw between warm and gently calloused hands, pulling him into you with an admirable effortlessness. You kiss him like it’s natural to you — like he was never just a stranger — like you’ve spent entire lifetimes kissing him.
You take the breath from his lungs with little effort. Eric tips his head back and sighs when you swipe your tongue along his chapped bottom lip. The exhaled breath fans across your cupid’s bow, and you smile against his mouth as you clamor gracelessly into his lap — straddling his lean hips and pressing your beating heart to his. 
The earbuds fall carelessly to the ground, and the fading song plays muffedly from beside you:
—Love and mercy, that’s what you need tonight…
So love and mercy, to you and your friends tonight…
Your mouths click when they part, a subtle sound beneath the drumming waterfall behind you. Your eyes are heavy and lidding as they fall to Eric’s kissed mouth — now a rosier shade, gently swollen, and shining with your spit. A stamp of ownership, almost, that makes your chest swell with pride.
Eric looks up at you with big, wet eyes as his hands fidget on either side of your waist. “I’ve been waiting for that for ages,” he confesses in a low murmur.
A small smile quirks faintly at the edges of your mouth. “Could you maybe say something that’s not super cliché?” you tease.
“How about… I really, really want to kiss you again?” Eric offers in a honeyed tone that makes his accent heavier. He swallows hard, adam’s apple bobbing. “And that I… I wanna make you feel good?”
You cage your bottom lip between your teeth to hide your smile. Your fingertips are calloused and cold as they toy with the curls at the nape of his neck — tiny chestnut strands coiled in perfect ringlets. Eric fights back a shiver.
“Then I’d say that…” you begin with a mischievous lilt to your voice, wild eyes flitting from his pink lips to his watery eyes. “I’ve been waiting for that for ages.”
You part from him then, taking the warmth of your body with you as you sit on your knees across from him. The rugged ground is hardly cushioned by the thin quilt. You can vaguely feel small rocks digging into your skin, but your need for him is much louder. 
You cross your arms in front of yourself to swipe your t-shirt over your head. You toss the discarded fabric carelessly beside you, then work at the buttons of your jeans — also borrowed, and just a half-size too big for you. 
Eric watches with his heart in his throat. It’s the most naked you’ve ever been in front of him before. The sight of your bare skin, covered now only in the sports bra you’ve had since the world ended, makes his head swim. It takes him a moment too long to realize he should be undressing, too, and he rushes to catch up.
The two of you undress yourselves in relative silence. The sight is hardly as sexy as you’d expect — full of fumbling limbs far too eager to be graceful. Eric’s shirt gets stuck on his chin. Your jeans get caught at your ankle. The tense lull between you ebbs into a symphony of entwining giggles.
With your clothes scattered in abandoned piles, you lay back against the blanket. Eric settles on top of you with a strange sort of effortlessness — like it’s muscle memory to him, even though neither of you has done this for a long, long while — much less with each other. 
The weight of his body is warm and heavy over yours. You slide your hands under his arms and curl them over his freckled shoulders, digging your nails softly into his pale skin to pull him further into you. 
You watch with heavily lidded eyes as Eric brings his hand to his mouth. He slides his pointer and middle finger between his lips, wetting the pads of them with his tongue. You exhale a deep breath when the limbs come out again, glittering in the low light. 
He studies your features with a dark and unwavering stare as he slips his fingers between the lips of your pussy — tracing the velvety lips for a moment before easing them slowly inside. Your eyes flutter shut at the foreign feeling. Eric smiles to himself, wrist flexing, as he explores your silky cunt with his fingers. 
“Please fuck me,” you sigh when his palm bumps your swollen clit. Your head tips back as your hips buck upward, all but melting under his touch. “Please.”
It takes Eric a moment or more to formulate a response. You’ve never been so subservient like this before, so needy for him. This must be the eighth wonder of the world, he thinks to himself, as he continues to work you open with unworthy hands.
“Have to get you ready for me first,” he tells you, voice and low gritty, as he exhales a breathy chuckle that fans across your jaw. “Don’t wanna break you, honey.”
You manage a scoff in response. “Well, that’s very presumptuous of you— oh…”
Eric crooks his fingers until the tips of them brush a spongy depth inside you. Your mouth falls agape at the feeling, so foreignly full beneath him. His spit-slick lips curl into a lazy smirk. “That shut you up, didn’t it?”
You would’ve spit a snide remark back at him if his thumb hadn’t pressed so mercilessly to your delicate clit then. The words dissolve like dust on your tongue and escape only as a breathy moan. 
Eric continues his relentless pursuit with nothing but two of his fingers. Relentless, you think,because he’s hardly trying to make you cum now. You’re not sure if he’s just oblivious to how good he’s making you feel, or if he’s pushing you to the edge and jerking you back on purpose. It’s agony either way.
He only stops when his pointer and middle finger start to prune, the pads of them softly wrinkled from your honey. He wipes them off on the quilt like a total barbarian. You would’ve said something about that, too, if you weren’t still trying to catch your breath.
Eric rises to his knees. His bare chest, dusted with sparse hair over the sternum, rises and falls with uneven pants. His cock hangs heavy between his spread thighs — half-hard, glowing red, and leaking faintly at the tip. His wide hands are softer than your own as they smooth up and down the length of your thighs. His thumbs rub soothingly over the supple insides of them — with a touch almost as gentle as the melted chocolate gaze he looks at you with. 
“Are you alright?” he wonders, all quiet and suddenly shy, like you aren’t all but dripping for him now.
“You’re so annoying,” you gripe with a scoffed-out laugh, rolling your eyes because you’re certain he’s teasing you. Your stomach sinks when the genuine glimmer in his eyes doesn’t waver. You squirm beneath him and his unyielding gaze. “I’m okay, Eric,” you murmur sheepishly, never easily serious.
He nods to himself and swallows hard, still visibly unsure. It makes you wonder if he’s second-guessing. “Stop staring and kiss me, you asshole,” you grouse with a forced laugh, tightening your grip on his shoulders.
Eric’s mouth quirks in an absentminded smile. “Just let me look at you for a second…” he whispers, squeezing the outsides of your thighs with warm hands.
“We don’t have to whisper anymore, dummy,” you tease in a hushed tone of your own.
His grin widens until his eyes wrinkle at the edges and his tongue pokes softly through his teeth. He laughs despite himself and grips his heavy cock in his fist. “You’re so mean, you know that?” he asks, folding your knee back with his free hand. You’re not sure if he’s expecting a real response, but he slips into you before you can give him one.
He fucks into you slow — bitterly, painfully, and agonizingly slow — forcing you to feel every inch of him. His cock is of average length, but girthy enough to stretch you open. You’re suddenly grateful he thought to use his fingers on you despite your impatience, but the two of them alone hardly equate to how thick he is.
Both of you inhale sharply when he’s fully sheathed inside of you, neither exactly used to the feeling. Eric allows you a moment or more to adjust before sliding out again. You exhale softly together in entwining moans that get lost beneath the sounds of a raging waterfall.
Eric thrusts into you again with gritted teeth, trying not to whimper too loudly when your pussy clenches around him. He bends at the waist to hide his face in your neck and exhales all his pathetic moans there. 
He keeps one hand clenched into a fist on the blanket to prop up his weight; his other slides beneath your head to cushion your skull from the hard ground. You grip the boy by his flexing biceps, digging your nails into the skin every time he thrusts into you. Jaw clenched, nose scrunched, eyes squinted — you take his cock without complaint despite the very loud feeling that it’s all too much for you.
Eric is everywhere, and the notion alone overwhelms you. He’s in you, on top of you, all over you. Like the air you breathe. You need him just the same. Not because he’s your friend but because you’re scared you might seriously die without him. 
It’s dramatic at best. At worst, it’s the exact opposite feeling you should have for anyone in the apocalypse, where death is essentially promised for both of you.
Tears prick your eyes at the thought, though you’d rather blame them on Eric’s merciless thrusts. They’re sloppy and unmeasured as he struggles to find a rhythm. He’s similarly overwhelmed by the pleasure. You can tell by the way his body trembles over yours, and the way he buries loud moans into your pulsepoint. You can feel the vibrations of each moan in your veins. 
The way you’re pinned beneath him cages your clit between your bodies. Every time Eric’s lean hips thrust upward and back again, the coarse thatch of hair above his cock brushes your sensitive button. You couldn’t free yourself from it if you tried. You’re not sure if you even want to.
“This is good for you, right?” Eric wonders through heavy pants, voice wavering under the weight of his pleasure. “Please tell me this is good for you.”
Any other time, you would’ve laughed at him, but now you only nod. Rapidly and with your jaw clenched tight. Just as pathetic as he is. 
“’S good,” you promise through gritted teeth as the coil in the pit of your stomach starts to tighten. “It’s so good, Eric. Feels so fuckin’ good.”
The affirmation makes him moan. Loudly. Enough for you to be momentarily grateful for the cover of the rumbling waterfall. Eric buckles down over you and strengthens his rapid, irregularly timed thrusts with a feeble cry. 
Your own whine rumbles in your throat, falling from your mouth like honey. Your warm skin, now slick with a layer of sweat, begins to buzz. The need for release builds like a dam within you — somewhere deep, right where the tip of Eric’s cock fucks into you. 
Your thighs start to tremble on either side of his waist. Your hips begin to buck despite yourself. You can’t be sure if you’re running from the pleasure now, or chasing it entirely.
“You gotta cum, baby,” Eric tells you through a pitiful whine, face still tucked into your neck. He licks his lips and starts to babble: “I can’t— I’m too close— I need you to cum before I do, baby— Need you to cum right now— Fuck.”
“Is your idea of dirty talk always this pathetic?” you would’ve joked if you weren’t already cumming for him. 
Your mouth falls agape in a silent moan as your head tips back into his palm. Your back arches as you reach the height of your pleasure, pussy fluttering through every wave of it. 
Eric fucks you the entire way through your orgasm — despite your nails biting crescent shapes into his shoulders, despite your velvety cunt tightening around him, despite the very overwhelming feeling that he might burst entirely.
Only when your body goes lax does he pull out of you. 
The empty feeling makes you whimper. Your weeping pussy clenches around nothing while Eric jerks himself off. You can’t see him, but you can feel his wrist moving in rapid motions between your legs. 
A groan rumbles deep in his throat as he tenses on top of you. His still body goes rigid. Something warm and wet spits on your inner thigh a second later — a heavy load of his pearly white cum, which he gives you three of before he’s milked himself dry.
Eric collapses on top of you when he’s officially spent. He forgets to hold up his weight, and you deliberately decide not to remind him. You let the man soak in the waves of his pleasure while you strain to reach the wicker basket at your side — struggling for a moment to find the handful of napkins at the very bottom, then using them to wipe up the mess on your thigh.
“Ah, shit,” Eric curses when he notices (his mess or his weight, you can’t quite tell). He sniffles and rolls off of you. “Sorry…”
Your head whips in his direction. You find his face all flushed, glowing red along the apples of his cheeks and the very tip of his nose. His eyes are big and wet, too, glassy like he might cry. 
Buzzing with concern, you rise to your knees, watching intently as Eric reaches for your discarded pile of clothes. You set them aside when he passes them to you and hold his face in your hands instead. His stubble scratches at your delicate palms. Your wide eyes sparkle with concern as they dart over his teary features.
“Hey… Hey, what happened?” you agonize. “Are you okay?”
Eric laughs at himself, then sniffles again as he wipes his nose with the back of his hand. “Yeah… So much for not being cliché, right?” he jokes.
“What happened?” you repeat, giggling this time at his crooked smile.
“Nothing,” he assures, shrugging his freckled shoulders. “I just… I’m just really happy, I guess…”
Your tight chest deflates with a sigh of relief as you nod in response. “Yeah… I am, too.”
Eric’s grin widens at your confession. His cheeks speckle a rosy color, like he’s pleasantly surprised by the response — as if his softening cock isn’t still sparkling with a mixture of your cum. 
You meet his smile with a scowl, rolling your eyes as you shove playfully at his shoulder. “Don’t look at me like that,” you grumble and turn away from him, reaching for your clothes. 
Your body looms over him as you stand, putting very little weight on your scarred leg. You bend at the waist to tug your underwear up your thighs.
Eric shoves his boxers on with a cheeky grin. “I’m really glad I found you, you know that, right? Even though you’re mean to me all the time?”
You scoff and drag your sports bra over your torso, yanking it at the hem to pull it over your breasts. “I’m happy you found me, too, stalker,” you respond in a monotone that would otherwise suggest the opposite. But Eric catches you smiling when you reach beside him for your shirt and knows you really mean it. 
“You love me,” he insists playfully, right before stealing a kiss from you. 
His lips only manage to brush the corner of your mouth in his haste, but he grins wide about it anyway. Your face screws like you weren’t begging him to fuck you ten minutes ago, as you wipe your cheek with the back of your hand.
“You’re disgusting…” he hears you mumbling as you turn away, tugging your shirt over your head. 
But he knows what you really mean.
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beeing1alive · 6 months
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Turning on Tokyo Revengers boys without knowing it pt.1
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f.t.: Mikey (Manjirō Sanō); Draken (Ken Ryūgūji); Mitsuya (Takashi Mitsuya); Baji (Keisuke Baji); Chifuyu (Chifuyu Matsuno); Kazutora (Kazutora Hanemija)
Warning: Nsfw content, minors do not interact
Mikey:
can't help but get a hard-on when he sees you sitting on his motorbike
especially when it's summer and you're wearing short clothes
his gaze veils slightly, he draws the air through his teeth slightly and watches every movement you make
i'm not going to lie, he's never got hard so fast
Without hesitation, he ran over to you and sat on his motorbike with you, just to kiss you a little more intimately than he wanted to
you can always tell if he's Horney when he kisses you extremely kinky in public
Draken:
Gets hard the fastest when you wear his clothes
I think we can all agree when I say that he has a size kink
I mean, he just can't help it when he sees you in his clothes, which are obviously way too big for you
especially when you're wearing one of his shirts and otherwise just a pair of panties
his eyes would darken slightly and he would slowly move towards you to tell you that he has a big little problem in his trousers and that you could help him with it
Mitsuya:
jealousy turns him on immensely
I mean, I know he doesn't look it so much, but he gets rock hard in seconds when he sees you talking to another boy for a little too long
a chiselled smile appears on his handsome face and he tries as hard as he can to hide the ever-growing and pulsating bulge in his trousers, which he manages to do quite well
as soon as you and the boy are ready, he pulls you behind him, gently but firmly
the moment you arrive in a quiet corner, you are his
Baji:
nothing turns him on more than seeing you in a leadership position
I mean, when you assert yourself and do all those leader things
he'll sit still, his eyes veil slightly and he watches every little move you make
I'm not even lying when I say that he just sits there and a slight, barely noticeable blush spreads across his face as he notices his trousers getting tighter in a matter of seconds
Chifuyu:
gets hard within a few seconds if he sees you in short clothes
for example, shorts and a revealing shirt
he is just too innocent and would blush extremely and in rare cases get a nosebleed too
if he feels confident enough, he'll snuggle up to you from behind so you can feel his hard boner pressed against your bum, which doesn't make it any better for him
he'll gently give you a sweet kiss on the neck and tell you that you know how much it turns him on when you wear revealing clothes
Kazutora:
turns him on most of the time when you're sitting or lying on his lap
the first few times this happened, he was very uncomfortable because you felt it directly when he got hard and he can't hide it
when he's feeling very horny, he tries to move his hips against your bum to create friction
if you're also wearing short clothes, he'll almost come in his trousers at the slightest touch
I mean, that divine view of you, in short clothes, on his lap, pressed against his hard cock
he just can't help it, so don't be angry with him
Here is pt.2
Attention: The characters and the GIF do not belong to me. The credits go to the original owners. If you want anything to be changed or removed, please contact me.
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emmyrosee · 7 months
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helloooe i don’t know if u write for gojo (i’m new in your blog and haven’t seen gojo posts lately or maybe i haven’t scrolled far) and saw that your looking for angsty requests, can i request angst as in the different levels of gojo and reader, that gojo is so powerful and that the world constantly needs him so he can’t give reader enough attention, in a way actually hit them both in their relationship?
if not, it’s okay, i hope you’re doing fine!!
GOJO ANGST MY BELOVED-
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"If you leave, you will come home to an empty house."
The warning falls confidently from your lips, as if premeditated and ready to be released into the air at any given trigger. Satoru stops getting his shoes on and turns to face you. Your eyes hold nothing but exhaustion, eyes under your bags dark and the lifelessness in your face sends a shiver through him. Had you looked so worn out all day?
"What... did you just say?" He whispers, brows pinching in the center in betrayal.
"You heard me. If you leave me right now, without a second thought of my regard, you will come back to nothing from me but my scent and this memory of us."
Thirty seconds ago, he smearing frosting on your nose and when you pushed him away, he’d peppered kisses over your face and fingers dug in your sides. Thirty seconds ago, you'd been interrupted in your baking by the man who would move mountains and swim oceans for you, only for his phone to ring just seconds later, calling him away like it always does.
Thirty seconds ago, he was kissing the laughter from your lips. Now, you’re threatening him.
You're cruel for this predicament, this choice and this bomb to be dropped on him mere seconds from him leaving for who even knows how long. But it doesn’t matter to him. You knew what you were getting into, and it’s not his fault he’s needed more often than not.
You should love him no matter what. As he does you.
He swallows thickly, "don't do this. Not right now."
You shrug, "this is your choice. Not mine. You know my terms.”
Bile rises up his throat and his hands tremble before fisting themselves into a little ball, "this is your choice, you doing this right now when I need to leave-"
“You always need to leave. I’m just sick of it.”
Now, Satoru just feels himself getting angry, "is this ultimatum really necessary right now? You couldn't have waited three damn days-"
"I think you're optimistic in guessing you'll only be gone for three days," you chuckle, crossing your arms over your chest. He sees the hurt in your features, but he merely shrugs it off as he continues to put on his shoes. “I’m not kidding, Satoru,” you warn. “You leave. I leave.”
“Then leave!” He shouts, hating the way tears sting at his eyes, “do it! I dont need you! You think I do? I’m Gojo Satoru.”
He does. Good fucking god he does, Satoru needs you like he needs water, craves food and forces breath into his lungs, he needs you like he’s paid to and loves you more than himself.
But you can’t know that. Even if not knowing it will drive you away.
You just your lower lip out and shrug, “then leave. Gojo Satoru.”
In desperation, he searches your eyes for something, anything to call your bluff, anything to tell him you’re lying, you won’t leave him. But your eyes tell him nothing, your eyes are closed off and protecting yourself from his venom.
He balls his fists and takes a sharp sniff through his nose in an attempt to ground himself.
“Maybe I will.”
He opens the door before slamming it shut behind him, the vibrations rattling his bones and making him feel even weaker than he was before. He knows that you might slam the door in a not too dissimilar way in but a few hours, cupcakes abandoned and bags packed into your car, leaving your keys in the mailbox and leaving his life for good.
All he can do is hope otherwise.
But in all the lies he can tell himself, that’s one he’s having a hard time believing.
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pastelspindash · 6 months
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sonic the hedgehog is a series that is fundamentally about love and freedom. about not being held down by what others think of you. of learning to love and accept and be proud of who you are; to be unashamedly yourself in a world that's always against you. never give up, no matter how many times you're knocked down. let go of past grievances, of past hatred - open your heart to those who are different from you, accept them. don't spend your time worrying - take every moment as it comes. dont dwell on past mistakes - live life in the present. love yourself. love your friends, cherish your family that you have, be that blood-related or otherwise. love and take care of the natural world around you. no matter the force that tries to oppress you, you dont fall in line. you dont take it lying down. you have the freedom to make your own choices, to pursue the things that make you happy, no matter what others might think, or tell you. you shine through, and you keep love in your heart, and spread it wherever you go, because you can make a difference, you can be a light in someones life, no matter how small.
be positive. be you. believe in yourself.
that is sonic the hedgehog to me.
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teaboot · 1 year
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While I'm happy that the word "gaslighting" is more known than it used to be, and that people at large are learning to recognize what it looks like, I feel like we need to be careful not to turn it into something soft and casual we throw around off the cuff without meaning.
Being gaslit is psychological abuse that fucks you up very badly, very slowly, at such a gradual pace that you don't usually know it's happening until it's already re-wired your brain.
If you're unfamiliar with the term, "to gaslight" is to intentionally persuade someone that they cannot trust their own perceptions of reality. It's a destabilizing form of manipulation that leaves you constantly anxious, off-balanced, confused, and dependant on others.
This is done by lying about events that have happened or about things that are happening, invalidating feelings and observations, and either denying, refusing to acknowledge, or deflecting away from hard facts.
As someone who has experienced gaslighting as a form of abuse, this is what I remember from when I didn't know anything was off:
"Oh, I must have forgotten what really happened."
"I'm just not seeing it from their point of view."
"Everyone has their ups and downs. This is normal."
"I guess I wasn't thinking about what I was doing."
"I must have been wrong."
This is what I remember from when I first started realizing something was weird:
"How come every time I'm convinced they did something wrong, they just talk to me a few minutes, and I end up asking for their forgiveness? What has me so convinced I was right in the first moment?"
"I should start writing things down when they happen, so I can go back and check later when I'm confused."
"If every relationship like ours (familial, romantic, platonic) works this way, how come I never hear about it, or read about it, or see it anywhere else?"
Getting out and adjusting to the real world is hard, too, and comes with rapid swings of unfounded guilt, shame, fear, anxiety, and self-deprication that are completely unfounded in reality.
You've been conditioned to believe that you are entirely helpless and unable to think for yourself, possibly "crazy" or otherwise fundamentally impaired, and that there is a singular source of guidance that knows exactly what is right, and all of a sudden that pillar of support has vanished.
The immediate "after" that I recall looks like:
Constant uncertainty. Because nobody is there to tell you what's real and what isn't, you approach every situation thinking at it from all angles. Every question has fifty possible answers and most of them are wrong and you don't know which. If you choose wrong, the world will end.
A sense of helplessness. You feel that nothing you do is correct, and it's easier to make no choices at all- or you make wild, reckless, impulsive choices, because you feel you have nothing to lose.
Memory loss. I don't understand this one, but it's not like memoriescare being erased, but more like... you're so used to treating your memories as dreams or imaginations that you reflexively dismiss anything you recall as fake, and you can't believe anything you recall because you don't think it was real. Your abusers voice is in your head, wiping things away and telling you that you did the wrong thing. And you believe them, because they're the only constant you can rely on.
Missing the abuser, or the abusive dynamic. Because you know now that it wasn't healthy, but at least you knew where you stood. As long as you said the right things and acted the right way, agreed and obeyed and did as they expected, you felt like thevworld made sense. Now you have to figure out which parts of you really are broken, and which parts are working fine in a really weird way, and it's like tuning a piano when you've never played one before.
The long term "after"- for which I can only speak for myself- looks like:
Having to double-check, triple-check, and continue checking hard evidence of an event before responding in an active way.
Consulting with trusted friends to verify that your observations are legitimate and that your perceptions are valid. Following up with them to see if someone is really angry at you, or if you're just projecting anger onto them because it's what makes sense to your old pattern.
Obsessive collection of "evidence"- saving pictures, writing detailed journals, making recordings and video, never deleting emails or old texts, because you still don't quite trust yourself all the way and you're afraid that someone will cause you to doubt yourself again.
Continued self-doubt and being "gullible": I have straight up seen people flip me off to my face in front of witnesses and then immediately tell me, "No, I was just waving", and my first instinct is to believe them. For a few seconds, I *really do* believe them. Your brain is so trained to latch onto what people tell you to believe that its really, really hard to hold onto information that you already have.
Learning to take ownership over your own actions. (I didn't mess up because I'm "crazy", I messed up because I'm a person and people do that.)
Instinctively seeking approval. (Takes a lot of work to remind myself that I don't exit to make people happy, and that some people suck ass, and I can tell them to piss off.)
I don't intend to invalidate anyone currently struggling with this- if you feel that something is wrong, it probably is. That's the thought that got me out. Trust that feeling that something isn't right.
I just want people who don't know what to look for to know what gaslighting *actually* looks and feels like, so they don't just roll their eyes and think, "Oh, that word doesnt apply to me- I'm not some snowflake".
('Cause we all saw what happened with "triggered", right?)
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dumpywrites · 2 months
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Wanna See My Cat? - Min Yoongi / Suga
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Prompt: “Do you wanna see my cat?” You're not actually lying but he thinks it's a sexual innuendo.
Prompt request: HERE
Genre/tags: Fluff, situationship-ish
Pairing: Yoongi x reader
a/n: I was contemplating on whether to actually add smut to this but I decided not to cause it's cuter this way and I think we could all agree there're plenty of bts smut but not enough fluff here! :D
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Situationship was a funny concept. Either you commit or not, that was what you believed. Which was why you were not precisely proud to say that you was now in fact in one. 
In your defense it had only been what, three? Four weeks? A month or so? Min Yoongi was this nice guy your acquaintance introduced you to. Gentle, could be hilarious when he wanted to, and cute. Although he could be a little emotionless at times, mostly he was a really sweet guy and you liked him a lot. In your other defense, you did not believe what you had with him could be called as a situationship. It was just what your friends had been teasing you about. 
In the whole time of knowing him, you had been to total of three dates. The first being a casual “are you free for dinner after work?” kinda date, second a movie date, and third being a very chill cafe date. And in your opinion, you enjoyed all of them, you had the greatest of time chatting and spending quality time with him. But your friend kept teasing you otherwise. 
Apparently your dates were considered too boring, too innocent for today’s dating world standard. You had not even had your first kiss yet and one of your friends was already asking about his size. Evidently, wanting to take things slow was a crime nowadays and you were lowkey getting annoyed. 
Today though, your park date was cancelled due to the rain. You kept cursing to yourself at home when you saw Yoongi’s text telling you to do a literal rain check, seeing the thunderstorm. The outfit that you bought especially for the occasion failed to see the outside world. 
As you stood in front of the mirror, seeing the reflection gave you a weird idea. A small Siamese cat walking past your feet, meowing adorably. Your pet cat, Zuko. A cat whose existence wasn’t known by Yoongi yet. The lightbulb above your head lightened up. 
“Do you wanna see my cat?” You sent the text. 
**
Yoongi texted you to let you know that he had arrived at your place. You recalled last time he picked you up it took him around fifteen minutes but this time he only took ten. You wondered what made him arrive a lot quicker. 
You were giddy with excitement and took a screenshot to tell your friend. Instead of being excited and giddy for you, your friend sent a bunch of side-eye emojis. Well, they could be just teasing you but the chat bubble following afterwards had you wondering. 
“Woo! Give me a rating score later!!!” 
You crooked your head in confusion, but there was no time to ponder on your friend’s riddle when Yoongi was already waiting for you to open the front door. 
“Hey.”
That hey definitely did not have to sound that deep and hot. You had to gulped your saliva down upon seeing him in his comfortable clothes. Since when did wearing sweatpants and baggy t-shirt looked so good? And did he just had his hair cut or was it just you? So many questions pilling up in your head. 
You knew it was game over when he went in for a hug. Heavenly was the only words you could use to describe his smell. It was a mixture of his shampoo and his laundry detergent, and his intoxicating smell. It seemed like he didn’t even use any perfume. 
“What should we eat?” You said while smiling giddily. 
“I’m kinda craving some instant ramen?” He looked at you while lifting a shopping bag filled with a few packets of noodles. 
Your eyes beamed. “That sounds really nice actually with the weather and all.” 
“Alright cool.” He nodded. “Let’s cook?”
Yoongi was being extra touchy. You were boiling the water and he would swiftly grab the chopsticks in front of you from behind, making you feel his chest. You fully knew well that he could easily grab the utensils without doing that, but for some reason the demons were working hard at the moment. He even leaned his chin over your shoulder as you were chopping some sausages. At this point he could be doing it on purpose for all you knew. 
He did not stop when you both started to eat. From the smooth wiping your lips from food to feeding you. Who was this person and what had he done to Yoongi you might never know. 
Right after washing the dishes and escaping a few of Yoongi’s teases, you both chilled on the sofa. As you browsed through Netflix, you could sense him scooting closer to you. You could feel his body warmth that automatically made yours grew hotter as well. 
“What are we watching?” He asked with a husky voice. By this point he was hugging your waist and rested his body weight on you. 
“I was thinking some action? You love those right?”
“I do.” 
You paused. Why was the tone of his voice sounded slightly off and why was he looking at you funnily?
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
He broke into a small smile. “Nothing.”
“Stop or I’ll make you watch Puss in Boots!” You whined. 
And then it hit you. The cat! You were too busy being swayed, head in the clouds, fantasizing, that you forgot why he was initially visiting you in your apartment.
“My cat!” You exclaimed loudly, which made Yoongi jumped and sat back up from his position. 
You missed the look of confusion in Yoongi’s face as you ran quickly to your room to pick up the furball in your bedroom. 
“I can’t believe I forgot about him!” You chuckled with your pet now in your arms. “He doesn’t like roaming around, he mostly sleeps in my room.”
Yoongi just looked at you, quizzically. As if he could not believe his eyes. 
“Meet Zuko!” You smiled, proudly showing your cat. “Zuko, meet Yoongi.” You giggled and shoved the cat to the man’s hands. 
He stared at the cat blankly for a good few seconds before gently petting the creature’s head. 
“Uh, hi.” He said, sounding lightly awkward. “He’s actually really cute.”
“I know right!” You grinned. “Do you wanna hold him?”
“Sure.” He said, sounding a little unsure. 
The man sat down with your cat on his lap, slowly stroking the soft white fur of its tiny body. You bent down, sat on the carpet on his knee level to pet the cat. Somehow seeing you smile lovingly at the cat made Yoongi’s lips curled into a soft smile as well. 
“You’re adorable.” Yoongi said. 
“He’s the cutest cat, I know.”
“No, I mean you.” 
“Oh.” You shyly looked away, hoping the nervous giggles did not give it away. “Thank you.” 
Yoongi chuckled and huffed a sigh. “I can’t believe there’s actually a cat.”
“Huh?” You crooked your head to the side, wondering what the guy meant by that. “Of course there is? What do you mean?”
“You’re gonna be the death of me.” He laughed. “You don’t know?”
“Uh, no?” 
He ruffled your hair and laughed again, this time a little bit louder than before. You were still stunned, too confused to process when he quickly pulled you in and kissed your forehead. Suddenly you did not want to protest about how messy he just made your hair. 
“It’s alright, maybe next time.” 
You covered your face with both of your palms.  “What’s with you today?!” You said with your hands still covering your face. 
“I like you.” He shrugged. “Might not be the most animated guy out there so I’m just letting you know.”
“Yeah, which is why I’m so confused with you today???” You said with flushed face. “Oh my god, that’s not the point though! I like you too!”
He chuckled. “Let’s just get back to the movie?”
The vibe after that conversation calmed down. Maybe it was the whole letting-the-cat-out-of-the-bag thing on your feelings making the air less thick. You ended up just cuddling, snuggling to each other while watching The Notebook. You both hated romance movies, but somehow finished the entire movie anyway after you misclicked it in the first place. It was nice and warm being in Yoongi’s arms and you were afraid you wouldn’t want to ever let go. 
And it was finally time for him to go home. Crazy how you did not notice the time went by so fast. Heck, you didn’t even notice the screen was already playing another movie. How could you when Yoongi was caressing your hair ever so gently? Goodness gracious. 
“Hey, I have to go now. Meeting in an hour, remember?” He tapped your shoulder. 
“I’m not letting you go.” You whined, hugging him tighter. 
He laughed. “Silly, I can come again tomorrow.”
You sat back up and looked at him. “Really???”
“I mean yeah, you don’t have work on Sunday, right?” He smiled. “If you want to, that is.”
“I want to.” You giggled. 
He flashed his gummy smile one more time before getting up from your couch. You walked with him to the door and waited for him to grab his jacket. The whole time you were stalling, asking him the most random questions, and made the silliest remarks. You just didn’t want him to go home yet, especially after finding out that he liked you too. 
“As much as I’d love to talk more about how much I disliked the whole education system, I really have to go now.” He chuckled. 
“Okay.” You pouted. You watch as he got up from tying his shoelaces. 
He huffed a sigh and smiled. “Come closer.”
You did as told without thinking and in a quick seconds, somehow you were pulled into a soft kiss. It was a soft peck and you could feel his smile through it. He didn’t gave you a chance to react as he swiftly let go. 
“See you tomorrow?” 
“Come on…” You whined again and covered your face in awkwardness, and he could only laugh at you. “Go! Before I lock you up!”
“I’ll text you.” He waved and you finally closed your door. 
You found yourself giggling and smiling to yourself like an idiot. This was new. Whatever in the fresh hell was that, you couldn’t lie to yourself that you were into this somewhat bold and flirty side of him. 
You casually walked back to your couch and switched the tv to youtube. As you let random science podcast video play, you decided to check your phone, realizing you had not text your friend back yet. 
“What do you mean by giving a score?”
Your friend replied almost too immediately. You were shocked to see the usage of caps lock. 
“YOU DIDN’T KNOW??????!!!!! WTF???”
“Okay, explain?????”
“Poor Yoongi has to deal with your dumbass 😔” 
“Shut up 🖕🖕🖕”
“It’s a code. You say that instead of asking to come over and have sex. Basically the new netflix and chill.”
“… okay. OKAY???!!!!!!”
“Bestie, did something happen though??? 😍”
“SO THAT’S WHY HE TOLD ME HE WAS SURPRISED THAT THERE WAS ACTUALLY A CAT???? OMFGGGGGG!!!!!! ASFDKSPSKSG 😭😭😭”
You put down your phone to muffle your tiny scream with your knuckles. You recalled him mentioning a next time. Then you also recalled him wanting to come over again tomorrow. Needless to say, it was finally time to let out that one cute underwear you had been keeping in your drawer for months.
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Thank you for reading! 🐈‍⬛💕
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vixstarria · 9 months
Text
A night at the inn (part 2)
Smut galore!
Part 1 here - it's the build-up to this, but not required reading if you're just after some smut
Astarion x Tav x Halsin, Astarion x F!Reader x Halsin
18+, smut, threesome, porn no plot, dirty talk, oral sex, PIV, various kinks in passing, soft dom Astarion, Astarion being a little shit
Approx. 2,700 words (what the hell, how did that happen)
AO3
“Is it company or privacy you desire?” 
You and Astarion, who had been lying on top of you, one of your legs wrapped around his hips, turned your heads towards the druid, who paused in the doorway.  
Astarion turned back to you to give you a wicked look, as though to say it was your call, before untangling himself from you, with a final slow teasing roll of his hips.    
“It seems... Astarion desires a show…" You followed him with your gaze as he got up to pour himself more wine, searching for any signs of apprehension or anything that resembled a slipping mask. You saw no such thing. “...And I desire to indulge him,” you added, turning to look at the druid.  
“Only a show?” Halsin frowned, but stepped into the room, shutting the door behind him. “I am more than happy to accommodate that, only I thought you of all people would like to take part,” he added, looking at Astarion.  
“It’s... complicated,” said Astarion, sliding back onto the bed and letting you lean back against him. “Darling, would you care to explain our current arrangement to our friend?” he asked, trailing a finger down your neck, sending a tinging shiver down your spine.  
“Astarion has been taking a break from anything below the waist, for himself...” 
“Say no more, I understand,” said Halsin.  
Astarion raised his glass and nodded towards Halsin, glad to not need to explain himself any further, before taking a sip.  
"And you?” Halsin asked, his voice a low and sensual rumble, his eyes piercing through you. Now that the smaller details were out of the way, you suddenly realised just what you had gotten yourself into, and you found yourself at a rare loss for words.  
You’ve done this before, but never in such fine company. And never with the added complication of having to take anyone’s feelings into consideration. 
Astarion’s fingers slid further down, below your collarbone, and slipped beneath the fabric of your blouse, circling down to one of your breasts. 
“You are not taking any ‘breaks'?” Halsin continued, approaching the bed, breaking eye contact briefly to follow the motions of Astarion's hand, as he started to roll and pinch one of your nipples, before looking back into your eyes, quizzically.  
You'd hardly started, and already you felt utterly exposed, a heat growing beneath your stomach. You were completely overwhelmed. Articulating anything was impossible.  
“Darling..?” Astarion said, softly, when you did not reply. “Are you with us?” 
“No breaks, only insatiable cravings,” you managed, wetting your lips. You tilted your head back to look into Astarion’s wine-coloured eyes. “I think I need you to take control,” you murmured. 
“Oh? Getting timid all of a sudden?” he set his wine down to brush your lower lip with his thumb. “You want me to tell him how to scratch your itch? Make sure he does it right?”   
“I trust you,” you nodded, swallowing.  
Astarion breathed a quick soundless laugh and gave you a brief but tender kiss.  
“Very well...” he lifted his gaze to regard Halsin. “Her sweet lips are mine, but you can have free reign over the rest of her, unless she says otherwise,” said Astarion. “My love you will speak up if there is anything you don’t enjoy?” he asked, lifting your chin to make you look at him. “I can’t make every decision for you, pet.”  
You nodded. Halsin took it as a cue to finally break the distance between you. He started by lifting your leg to unlace your boots. 
“What do you want to see?” he asked Astarion. 
“Hmm,” he deliberated. “I think... No, I know she wants to be fucked senseless. Don’t you, pet? Tell us.” he urged with a devilish grin, his eyes still locked on yours, as you managed a weak ‘mmhmm’. “Let’s see that.”   
Halsin pulled off your boots and before you knew what was happening, one of your feet was in his mouth. You gasped as you felt his tongue swirling between your toes. 
“I knew he was absolutely feral!” laughed Astarion. “No no, let him do it,” he added as you squirmed. “But you are completely overdressed for all this, love.”  
Astarion pulled your blouse off over your head, exposing your breasts, and began to undo the lacing on your pants. Halsin attempted to pull them off but they got stuck around your knees. For the first time since you've met him, you saw exasperation on the druid's face, as he struggled. 
“I would outlaw clothing if I could,” he growled.  
This seemed to amuse Astarion to no end, as he fell back onto the bed, pulling you with him. You somehow ended up being flipped onto your stomach and into Astarion's arms by Halsin, in his fight with your trousers. You giggled as he finally managed to pull them off.  
”Are all your dirty dreams coming true, darling?” Astarion whispered to you, kissing your neck below your ear. 
You felt Halsin's bulk lower himself onto you, holding himself up over you and Astarion with his arms to either of your sides. He left hot, open-mouthed kisses down your back, starting from the opposite side of your neck. You were caught between the coolness of Astarion's skin and the heat that was radiating from Halsin's body.  
“This is impossible,” Halsin groaned as he realised that you were still in your smallclothes. Having run out of patience he resorted to simply tearing them off you in a swift and deliberate motion.  
You let out an involuntary squeal as Astarion wedged a knee between your legs and used it to spread them apart for the druid. 
“Be a good girl now and don't cause any more trouble,” he purred. You hummed your assent and lifted your hips up, your face buried in Astarion's neck. 
Halsin's tongue plunged into you, lapping up your wetness, making you let out a moan.  
Astarion tangled his fingers into your hair at the back of your head, near the roots, and pulled on it to lift your head up. 
“I want to see your face while his tongue is in you,” he whispered. “He’s being good to you, isn’t he?” You held Astarion's gaze as Halsin continued to lick between your legs. You tried and failed to stifle another moan and arched your back further, as he dipped lower to tease your clit with his tongue. Astarion moved his hand to caress your face, before parting your lips with his thumb. You caught it in your mouth. “Yes, I can tell he is... But you want more, don’t you?” You sucked on his thumb and nodded with a whimper, looking into his eyes. “Don’t be shy... Tell us what you want...” You grazed Astarion's thumb with your teeth and giggled, shaking your head. You knew he wouldn’t let it slide though.  
“You brat,” he smiled, his eyes narrowing, before looking past your shoulder and raising his voice. “Don’t give her anything unless she asks for it, nicely. In fact, you should stop what you’re doing now.”  
To your dismay, the druid lifted his head from you. 
“It would be my pleasure to help teach her manners,” he said. He stroked your wet slit with his fingers in place of his tongue, but it was only a tease that made you crave more.  
“Beg him,” Astarion said, grinning, pulling your hair to turn your head sideways, so you could take in a view of the druid over your shoulder. 
You shot daggers at Astarion with your eyes. You were glad he was enjoying himself so much, but this man, who had been flicking his tongue over your asshole just seconds prior, was supposed to adhere to your authority at tomorrow morning’s itinerary discussion meeting.   
“Please...” you managed.  
“Please what?” smirked Astarion.  
“I may have a hunch about what she wants,” said Halsin, slipping a single finger in, shallowly, just one phalange deep, and sliding it in and out of you, teasingly. “Is this it?” 
“No, no, she needs to say it herself,” interjected Astarion.  
“I want more...” you moaned. 
“More?” Halsin slipped a second finger in, keeping it agonisingly shallow. 
“Your cock! I want your cock deep in me... Please...” you were too frustrated to care anymore.  
“Good girl...” purred Astarion. “I’m going to remember this, you know,” he added with a smirk. “Next time you get too sassy with me, I’ll just recall our fearless leader begging for dick.” 
“Listen here, you-” you started, exasperated, but were cut off by him pulling you into a deep kiss. He trailed his hand down your stomach until his fingers reached your slit, dipping in. You moaned into his mouth as he began to gently roll your swollen clit between his fingers the way he knew you liked.  
You heard Halsin discarding his own clothes behind you, and were about to turn to look back, but Astarion held your chin.  
“Ah-ah, no peeking! Let’s keep it a surprise.” He looked over your shoulder. “A very... big... surprise.” 
You felt Halsin start to work his way in with his cock, in slow, rolling thrusts, gradually filling you, inch by inch. You were completely soaked, and stretched to accommodate him, but gods he felt huge. Exactly as big as you would expect by looking at the sheer size of the druid himself. 
You whimpered as he filled you completely and began his deliberate, rhythmic thrusts.  
“More than what you’d bargained for, darling?” Astarion whispered in your ear, continuing to rub your clit. “But you’re taking it so well, my good girl...” All you could do was whimper and moan, as he continued to stroke you and whisper obscenities to you. “That huge cock, all for you...” 
“She’s starting to quiver around me already,” groaned Halsin.  
“Is she now?” Astarion removing his fingers from your clit. “Do we need to talk about manners again? You don’t want to be rude to our friend by coming so soon and all by yourself, do you?”  
“I’ll be good, just don’t stop, please” you whimpered. You could not handle another interruption. 
“You have some catching up to do,” Astarion directed at Halsin.  
Halsin’s thrusts sped up to an infernal pace, as Astarion pulled on your hair again to lick and nip at your exposed neck, running his tongue over your fresh puncture wounds, where it still felt so sweet for you.  
“I’ll be generous, I know how much you want it,” Astarion rasped in your ear. “I want it too.” 
He resumed rubbing circles around your clit and you found yourself falling to pieces, a mewling mess. 
“Don’t get shy now... That’s it... Let us hear how much you like it,” Astarion continued, hoarsely. 
You felt the first ripples of your climax coming on, your moans mounting louder and deeper with each wave.  
“Fuck her through her orgasm. She likes that,” Astarion threw over your shoulder.  
Halsin’s thrusts somehow got even harder then, and you screamed into Astarion’s neck as your pleasure completely overtook you. The sound of skin slapping on skin had already been loud enough to hear halfway across the inn, if anyone in the adjacent rooms had been sleeping through that, they were awake now.  
Halsin’s penis slipped out of you and you collapsed, melting into Astarion’s embrace, no longer able to keep yourself up.  
“Still enjoying yourself, my sweet?” he whispered only loud enough for you to hear. “Do you want more?” 
“Gods, yes,” you answered.  
“We’re not done yet,” he said louder, with a grin, as Halsin pulled you off the vampire by your waist, flipping you onto your back on the bed.
You spread your legs as Halsin settled between them, sitting up. He couldn’t have been far himself, as he entered you again, with quick, needful thrusts, lifting one of your legs onto his shoulder. Your breasts bounced with every thrust, and you raised your hands to hold them, pinching your own nipples. 
“What a sight you are...” purred Astarion, off to your side. “Let us enjoy the view better.”  
You let go of your breasts and raised yourself on your elbows, eager to enjoy a view yourself as you watched Halsin’s cock ram you, slick with your wetness.  
Suddenly you were distracted by Astarion unlacing his pants to release his pulsing cock. Unable to contain his need any longer, he began to stroke himself. You couldn’t look away. 
“Can I have it in my mouth..? Please..?” you implored.  
There had to be a delicate balance to your pleading.  
You knew he didn’t want to feel pressured. Not even by your need and desperation.  
You also knew how he wanted to be wanted. He loved to hear you beg. He revelled in it. In the knowledge that he had such a grasp on your arousal. He would often tease you relentlessly. Usually, he would allow you to find your release eventually, whether with his fingers or tongue, or just from grinding against him. A few times, you pleasured yourself for him, while he watched. But sometimes, it was just a ‘no’ despite the teasing he had initiated himself. Being in control was another thing he revelled in.  
“Desperate, are we?” he breathed. 
“Astarion, please... Anything... Just a taste.” 
He lifted your chin, angling your face toward him. 
“Just the tip, with your tongue. I’ll take all your treats away if you get too greedy.” 
You hadn’t done this since before your talk about wanting something real together. Your heart just about leapt into your throat.  
He continued to stroke himself as you swirled your tongue around the swollen head of his penis, licking up his precum, looking into his eyes.
“I’ve missed this too, my sweet” he murmured as he watched you through his eyelashes, his voice thick. 
Halsin was being a complete menace, rubbing your clit and licking the arch of your foot, and you started to get carried away, close to climaxing again, and wrapped your mouth around the tip of Astarion’s cock. 
“Ah-ah! Make sure she behaves,” Astarion said to Halsin. 
Halsin pinched your clit, just enough to make you jump and distract you. You moaned and continued with just your tongue, as Halsin pounded into you.  
“Shall I go easy on her?” Halsin asked.  
“Absolutely not,” said Astarion. “Just a little longer, love. You can hold out longer for me, can’t you?” he asked you, stroking your cheek with his hand.   
This was becoming impossible. Between Halsin’s incessant thrusts and stroking of your clit, and your added arousal from finally being able to taste Astarion, you were losing your mind. But you did not want to come before he did.  
“I can’t!” you gasped between strokes with your tongue. “I can’t...’ 
Halsin took some mercy on you then, pausing the circles he had been drawing around your clit, as everything else continued. 
Astarion was breathing harder, stroking himself faster.  
“You can come for us now... Come for me...” he rasped. 
Two more firm strokes of Halsin’s thumb, and you came undone again, your walls clenching around Halsin, your legs shaking, just as Astarion’s cum filled your mouth, some of it spilling and leaking down your chin and the corner of your mouth. You were completely spent, as you swallowed what you could. You barely even registered Halsin pulling out his cock to spill his own seed all over your chest and stomach. 
Astarion knelt down next to you, trying to regain his breath, and pressed his forehead against yours briefly, before drawing you into a kiss, tasting himself on your tongue. You felt his lips breaking into a smile as you kissed.  
A short while later you lounged on the bed, your head on Astarion’s stomach as he played with your hair, your legs thrown across Halsin’s lap. Halsin was fiddling with his herbs and pipes again.  
“Care for more catnip?” he asked Astarion. 
“I’m never going to live that down, am I?” Astarion rolled his eyes. “But yes. ...Only to prove that it’s not going to do anything this time!” 
Sure enough, a minute later Astarion once again sat with a ditsy expression, on the verge of breaking out into inane giggling. 
“Gods, I’m not sure I can handle him like this again,” you sighed, shooting Halsin a reproachful look. 
“This is a beautiful, glorious thing - he is embracing the opportunity to get reacquainted with nature,” the druid shrugged. 
“Tell us about the bear you fucked again,” Astarion tittered.  
~~~
Part 3
AO3
Hope you enjoyed, check out my other work
1K notes · View notes
Text
Spies and Secrets
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Summary: Natasha has never met her handler, she couldn’t give you their name or identify their face because she doesn’t know it. When she rants about this to you, her wife, you have to laugh... because you are her handler.
Word Count: 2048
Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x F!Reader
Warnings: Swearing, lying in the relationship (not in a bad way, just in a spy way), but otherwise it’s just fluff!
A/N: I went back and wrote this idea since it seemed semi-popular. Hope you enjoy :)
»»————- ★ ————-««
"Will you finally tell me who they are?"
"This again, Romanoff?"
"Just a first name?"
Fury sighs to make his vexation clear, but that's not enough to dissuade Natasha; she remains determined as ever in her mission and smirks boldly in the face of her exasperated boss.
"Just an initial will get me off your back," the spy continues through his silence.
Fury scoffs and Natasha knows she needs a different approach.
"If it's you, you can just say, Sir."
"Me? You must be losing your touch if you think I have the time for that, Romanoff. Should Hill be taking your next mission?"
Natasha stops and stares with faux hurt while Fury continues on, grinning to his own amusement. He wasn't going to let her keep the upper hand for long.
"If you want to know, ask them yourself!" Fury calls over his shoulder, "Mission debrief. C12-2. 10 minutes. They won't tell you though; above your clearance!"
Natasha groans. As much as she hadn't expected a substantial answer from Fury – she'd been asking him the same question for years – she thought she might be getting somewhere, but no matter which trick she tries, Fury doesn't budge.
On top of that, he'd reminded her that it wasn't home time yet, her mission isn't over until she's briefed her mysterious handler. So Natasha sighs and makes her way to the conference room, still wondering why only her handler chose to shroud themself in mystery. All the other agents meet theirs directly, while Natasha sits in a room alone, waiting for a shadowy silhouette to call in.
The first few years went by without a comment – it wasn't her place to ask – but as she rose the ranks and found her role, her handler, too, remained just above her clearance. Even now, as one of the highest ranking agents, her handler was higher still. Curiosity built like a dripping tap; manageable and menial to start, only to provoke greater displeasure the longer it went on.
"Hi Agent!" the disembodied voice crackles through the speakers. That's the other thing driving Natasha towards irritation, her handler's tone. It's nothing like Fury's commanding orations. No, her handler speaks with an eagerness and informality reminiscent of a junior agent meeting their hero, rather than the commanding officer that they are, and have been, since Natasha first joined SHIELD almost a decade ago.
"Officer." Natasha replies. She had never been told her handler's surname, or even a title she could use to address them. Any attempts she made to learn had been properly shut down, forcing her to stick with the appellation of Case Officer.
"Always so formal," her handler laughs. "As far as I'm aware, the mission was successful, so what's got you so grumpy today?" they continue, noticing an uncharacteristic clarity to Natasha's mood that day.
"If you told me your name, I wouldn't have to be so formal, would I?" the spy snaps back. "And I'm not grumpy."
"Natasha, we've worked together for nearly 10 years now. I know when you're grumpy, and I can throw in an educated guess that my identity is the cause?"
"I've spent my life working in secret," Natasha shrugs, then pauses in search of the right words. "I'm well accustomed to dubious legalities and taking orders from the shadows. I'm also well aware that I would be a risk to security from the moment I joined until I gained the trust of this organisation, so I understood your secrecy."
Natasha stops again, noticing the silhouette begin to fidget; whether out of boredom or discomfort, the assassin can tell the time is right to make her final argument.
"We've worked together on hundreds of missions over this past decade, enough for you to know every detail of my life and mind, while I still know nothing about you. Have you thought about how that might hurt, officer? because it does! to believe I still haven't gained your trust after all this time. That hurts."
The room stills to a silence as fragile as Natasha felt. Her handler's reaction would dictate the situation; any information given could redefine the relationship between the two spies, just as another brush off would leave Natasha spiralling further into this curiosity.
A sigh finally echoes through the speakers; its long pause circling the sole inhabitant of the room. "It's above your clearance," the voice admits. Natasha slumps; she should have known better. "But-" The speed at which Natasha perks up draws out a small chuckle from her handler, before they continue with an audible smile, "I'll talk to Fury. See what I can reveal."
Natasha settles in her seat, unable to keep the broad smile from her face. "I do trust you, Romanoff, I hope you know that… I just don't think I'll be who you expect."
As a trained spy, Natasha wouldn't let that last line slide, immediately thinking of its hidden meaning. But before she can ask further questions, her handler clears their throat. "I think it's time we actually start the mission debrief."
»»————- ★ ————-««
Natasha can't wait for the meeting to end. She understands the need – giving her side of the story, answering questions, sharing the intelligence she'd gained – but it drags on without incident and without any further comments on her handler's identity, so she'd much rather be at home. 
What reason was there for her not to do this from home? Her handler calls in from wherever they are, so realistically, Natasha could also pick up from wherever she is. Ideally at home, after a relaxing shower and a little time with her wife. Natasha supposes that's where the issue may lie: you, her wife, who has been led to believe Natasha is a security guard and nothing more. If you overheard a debrief, not only would SHIELD's confidentiality be compromised, but you might never forgive her lies. Natasha's home office was soundproofed though and, because of that, the assassin would take the risk if it means extra time with you.
Throughout Natasha's homeward journey and all through the mission debrief, you are the only thing to occupy her mind. Her mission finished in late afternoon, so she had planned how she would surprise you and spend the evening together upon her return, but then the debrief cropped up, and by the time her key is in the door, the sun has long since set, leaving her to wonder if you're even still awake.
You are. Just about. Your pyjama clad figure appears in Natasha's sight and you rush down the stairs to meet her by the door.
"You're home!" You beam as you wrap your arms over her shoulders and take her cue for a kiss.
"I am."
"How was your mission?" you tease. You know how seriously she takes each assignment, always doing prep work in her office ahead of the trips; she treated them akin to a secret mission and you never missed your chance to rag her for it. 
One of your favourite methods of teasing is to liken her to James Bond, which only gets more realistic when you catch her mouthing along to the movie lines.
"Top secret. Can't tell you," your wife jokes back, her smile threatening to burst off her face.
"No injuries this time?"
"None at all."
"Good girl." She preens. "Have you had dinner?"
"Not yet, I came home as soon as I was done. Couldn't wait to see you."
"Sweet talker," you laugh and kiss her again, then take her by the hand, "I put some leftovers in the fridge, you clean up, then you can eat and share your 'top secret' thoughts."
The evening's plan formed just like that; you reheat the noodle dish while Natasha takes a shower, before the two of you come back together to sit at the dinner table.
"So, how was it really?" you ask her.
"The job itself was alright, no problem." Natasha replies, but by the way she's stabbing the noodles with her fork, you can tell something else is coming. "But my bosses…they just won't tell me all the information. Say it's 'above my clearance'."
"The cheek of them."
"Don't mock me."
"I'm not, I'm not! I promise, love," you say, though you can't hide your barely contained laughter thanks to the prominent pout on your wife's face. You school your face back into an expression of neutrality before you talk again, "that sounds annoying. Do you need this information?"
"No," she sighs, "it's just a matter of trust."
"Well, you must be working with idiots for them not to trust you after all this time."
"Mm, you reckon I should tell that to them?"
"You definitely should."
The smile comes back to Natasha's face as she shakes her head, "you're going to get me fired, sweetheart."
"You're too good for them to do that. Just keep it up, you're going to be leading them one day, I'm sure of it. Then all the secrets are yours."
»»————- ★ ————-««
Another week, another mission. And with another mission comes another mission debrief. Natasha asked for her handler's identity three weeks ago and still knows nothing more. With how poorly her recent mission went, she doesn't even feel like asking the question again.
"What went wrong, Romanoff?" that same anonymous figure asks her, and Natasha can only groan: what didn't go wrong?
"We were ambushed to start with; whoever gave us the heads up got their information wrong, or someone sold us out. Either way, the plan went to shit the moment we arrived and the team went to shit by throwing mole accusations around. Splitting up only made it worse; nobody trusted their teammates to do their parts and it resulted in a mad scramble. My orders were ignored, but my team members were injured and I take full responsibility."
"That won't be necessary, Agent," the voice hums, "as leader, the responsibility falls on you, yes, but it is each agent's responsibility to trust in you and follow your plan, and you will not be faulted for working with idiots who don't trust you."
Natasha starts to defend her team, before the familiarity of the phrase has her searching through her mind for a recollection. What she does remember is a long shot, but she'll lose nothing by asking.
"Do you have a wife, Officer?"
"I do," they reply.
"Is she a redhead?"
"She is."
"Works for SHIELD?"
"Why, it's almost like you know her," the handler goades. If one had an illustrated list of all of SHIELD's employees, they would know that the short game of 'guess who' still left a couple dozen potential employees in the running, but the teasing and testing tone is the final clue Natasha needs to make her assumption.
"Y/N/N?"
"Hey love," you reply, with as much adoration as you can muster, glad to finally be rid of the voice modulator while you talked to your wife.
In front of Natasha, the screen flickers before the silhouette that had become so familiar to her is replaced by another familiar sight in another familiar location: the smiling face of her wife…in her office.
Natasha's face falls at once, striking you with panic that this wouldn't be the gleeful revelation that you'd expected; that is, until the assassin speaks again. "Is that my desk?"
"It's your whole office, my love. I'm not taking these calls from our bedroom."
"Is that why it's sound proofed?"
"I gave the approval for that, if you remember, and it's certainly not because you're taking SHIELD calls at home; you haven't even had one while we've lived together!"
"That's because you organise it straight after the mission so I don't have time to go home!"
"Because that's where I am! you'd be suspicious otherwise."
Natasha falls silent for a moment. You know her well enough to leave her to her thoughts, only twiddling your thumbs as you watch her through the screen.
"So can I do debriefs at home now?"
"I don't see why not," you shrug, "remember I still have to take notes though, so I get the desk and no cuddling until after."
"No chance of that."
"Come back now, Romanoff, and we can put it to the test," you challenge.
She accepts. "I'll be there in 30."
"I know."
»»————- ★ ————-««
Tagging: @supercorpdanbeau (since you mentioned you’d like to read it on the original post!)
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channieismyboy · 3 months
Text
chanel chance
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{dilf!seonghwa x f!reader}
synopsis: When y/n is alerted that there's been a flood in her apartment and no one can take her, what will she do when Mr. Park asks her to stay with him?
masterlist | part 3 | part 5
warnings: age difference (y/n is 21, seonghwa is 29), eventual smut, language, kind of slow burn, sad attempts at humor - wc: 2.3k
*:・゚✧*:・゚*:・゚✧*:・゚*:・゚✧*:・゚*:・゚✧*:・゚*:・゚✧*:・゚*:・゚
Everyday, a man lives a debilitating cycle. He wakes up, goes to work, sleeps, and repeats this endless circuit. He has gotten used to this schedule over the last few years. The only joy in his life would be brought on by his little daughter, whom he loves with all his heart. He tries his very best to put on a facade of happiness whenever he spends time with her. Wanting to protect her innocence from vague feelings of misery for as long as he possibly can, until he eventually matures.
There was no room for love in his life anymore. Romance is certainly unattainable for him due to his lack of availability. It is not like he does not have opportunities to date, there are plenty of women and men who often throw themselves at him. However, it is merely for his title or money. They want to gain something from him.
This man views love differently than the people who he converses with on a daily basis. Most of those individuals view marriage, or dating as a contract. As an opportunity to enlarge their company’s resources, get more publicity from the media, or even to trick the public to buy more of their products. Since this man has seen this happen numerous times in his lifetime, even had a hands-on experience of it in his home, he has made a choice that he would no longer give romance a chance. As those couples that marry for money, or titles, almost certainly end up unhappy, divorcing quickly after marrying, or scandals of them cheating on one another are posted publicly on the news.
However, this man’s principles had begun to change once he had met someone different. Someone who he found beautiful in every way imaginable, who made his heart skip a beat in a way he never knew it could…
This man is Park Seonghwa.
-
You check the time, it is now 11:37 PM. You're lying awake, staring aimlessly at your ceiling, with the fairy lights illuminating your otherwise dark room. Replays of a few nights ago rerun in your head. You think about how gentle Mr. Park was with you, and how caring he is with his daughter. It makes your heart ache. You sadly have never got to experience a proper father-daughter relationship, or even one at all. However, you're grateful you have your uncle and your aunt. They've truly made your life special in every way imaginable. Your eyes begin to feel heavy, and the familiar wave of tiredness hits you until you're asleep.
It is now saturday morning, today you will babysit Jieun and today you will finally see Mr. Park. You get slightly too excited about that last part, and shake your head at your thoughts. You have been thinking about him a lot recently, you really shouldn't, for the sake of keeping your job.
You wake up and check your phone, scrolling aimlessly through your socials and texts from Minho and Jisung. Replying to the endless amounts of texts they've sent along with pictures of them on their vacation to Jeju Island. You struggle to get through the pure amount of them.
The afternoon passes calmly. You quickly make yourself some dinner and shower after precisely picking out your outfit to go see Mr. Park while on a facetime call with both Minho and Jisung. as annoying they are, they are never caught wearing a bad outfit.
"Are you calling us so you can look great for Mr. Hot ceo?" Minho asks with a deadpan tone, which juxtaposes with the cute cat in his lap that he's petting every so sweetly. "You wanna impress him?" Jisung adds while wiggling his eyebrows.
"It's not that, I just want to look presentable is all" you fib, while showing them the black skirt, black stockings with a deep burgundy Ralph Lauren knit sweater that jisung had picked out. Minho looks at you with an 'I'm not buying it' face and you cave in.
"Okay fine! Can you blame me for wanting to look nice when babysitting a good looking ceo's daughter? Plus I do have to look professional for this job, I can't just show up in sweats. and he probably thinks I'm a kid, so it doesn't matter anyway" you say, opting for the look you have on.
"Honestly, I would do the same" jisung adds after applauding your look.
-
After your shower, you get dressed and put on just a bit more makeup than usual, and spray on your 'Chanel Chance' perfume. It won't hurt to look nice for the man anyway. You board the bus and sit down while listening to some music. you're now deep in thought, thinking back to minho's comment. it won't hurt to look good for the man anyway. He's literally a high power ceo, regardless of how he looked, you had to go to his home and look presentable anyway. with a posh neighborhood like his and such a fancy house like his, you would look like the odd one out not arriving dressed in the very few expensive clothing items you own.
Your stop arrives and you head out quickly, mentally preparing to meet John again and explain why you are there. You feel slightly awkward just walking up a hill with nothing else but your purse and phone in hand. You wish you had a car that can drive you around, but it broke down on you and is in the shop being replaced. You try not to think about the bill ahead of you, that's too many scary thoughts in a row.
Trailing along, you are soon met with John at the gate. He looks at you up and down. "Can I see some ID?" he demands. You open your purse and show him your driver's license. He lets you through, luckily Mr. Park's home is close to the gate, so it's not a far walk. You stop at the familiar home. it's 6:25 PM, you're grateful that once again you're early. You quickly double check your hair and retouch your lip gloss before knocking on the door. You wait a bit until it opens.
This time you are greeted directly by Mr. Park, and he glances at you up and down before welcoming you with a polite smile. You do the same, and note how nicely dressed he is. The black buttoned up shirt with just a few buttons undone tucked into his black trousers complement the glasses he's wearing, he look's so professional with them on.
"Hello Ms. L/n, it's nice to see you." he says with a slight smile on his face. "Hello Mr. Park" you greet back with a bright and polite smile.
"Laura, my housekeeper isn't here on Saturdays so it's just going to be you and Jieun for today. Please come in," he gestures into the home. You take off your shoes and enter the place after closing the door. You look around his place once again, still in shock by its size and beauty. Mr. Park sure has taste. You walk behind him and follow him to the living room, where Jieun is already sitting, watching cartoons.
He turns to face you, eyes directly on yours. Suddenly it's quite hot in the room. "I'll leave you both here and I'll be back just before 9:00 PM, call if anything happens, although I know she's in great hands" he says to you before saying goodbye to his daughter.
"Enjoy your meeting Mr. Park!" you say. He exits before lovingly wishing his daughter goodbye.
-
Your time spent with Jieun is always pleasant. She's as bright and playful as ever, telling you about her latest works of art (cute scribbles) and her excitement to learn more at pre-school. She has such a bright future ahead of her, you think. The time passes quickly as soon it's almost 9:00.
You hear the familiar pitter-patter of raindrops beginning to fall down, and you silently curse to yourself. You did not bring an umbrella with you and now you'll have to walk down in the rain until you reach the bus stop. Your thoughts are interrupted when you hear Jieun scream out for her dad. You raise your head up and you greet Mr. Park.
He places Jieun down and tells her to get ready for bedtime. She does just that after saying goodbye to you with a warm hug that you so happily reciprocated.
"Alright," he says while reaching into his wallet and pulling out many bills. "This should do it for the night" and he gives you the money. You check the amount and your eyes bulge out a little at the amount. 150$ you count and recount again quickly, this is much more than last time. You shake your head and attempt to give him back the money.
"Mr. Park, this is way too much. I cannot accept this amount."
"Please, just take it. It honestly isn't a lot for me and I'm just happy you made Jieun smile so brightly." His tone and expression are so genuine you have no choice but to give in and accept it.
"Okay, I'll accept it this time Mr. Park. Thank you very much."
You head to put back on your shoes and prepare yourself to walk back in the rainfall. He watches you intently, with his head turned to the side as he leans on the wall. You feel as though you're being watched by an eagle, as you feel his eyes never once leaving your form. your cheeks burn slightly.
"Are your friends here to pick you up?" Mr. Park speaks up. "No, it's just me on my own this time" you answer.
"You're not walking home are you? I didn't see a car parked in the driveway when you came." He asked with concern laced in his soft spoken words.
"No. I'm just going to walk to the bus stop nearby-"
"I'll drive you there then" he cuts you off. He sees the familiar look of 'you don't have to' already on your face, the one he just saw moments ago while paying you. Before he lets you speak, he explains himself. "I just don't want you to get a cold out in the rain. I need my babysitter to be in perfect condition, you know."
Yet again, Mr. Park has made it impossible for you to refuse him. "Alright, if you insist, then I have no choice but to say yes" you say with a smile, and you see him laugh slightly at your words.
To say his car is nice, would be a great understatement. You have no knowledge of cars, but even to a novice like you, this car is down right spectacular. The nicely polished black outside with leather seats, just how rich is this man?
Mr. Park opens the door for you and ushers you in gently. He gets in quickly after, and you glance at your phone, after realizing it's been buzzing for quite a while now. You see all the missed calls from your Landlady. Panic surges through you, did you forget to pay your rent? No you remember sending out the amount just a week ago. what could it be then? Mr. Park can tell you're anxious.
"I'm sorry," you mutter. "It's something to do with my apartment, could I quickly make a call?" you ask. "Of course, be my guest," Mr. Park says, gesturing for you to dial the number.
The phone rings and she picks up quickly. "Hello?"
"Ms. L/n, there has been a minor flood in the apartment. You must come quickly and evacuate all of your belongings. We'll need to undergo repairs for about 3 days." You let her speak, and your face drops.
You face Mr. Park and judging from his expression, he's heard everything from your call.
"Were there any damages to my apartment room?"
"Luckily your floor had no damages, it was the floors under you that mainly got affected. Still you'll need to leave for a few days. Please come quick and find a place to stay until then. Goodbye."
You hang up the phone and think to yourself silently. Wondering who you could stay with. Mr. Park asking you the same question out loud. Minho and Jisung are too far away and you don't have a key to their apartment you explain to them.
"What about your uncle?" Mr. Park asks.
"I wish but, they're having renovations and there's barely any room for them in the house." you answer.
It's silent for a moment, the raindrops splattering heavily as the rainfall speeds up, a storm is starting to form outside. You think about any other people you know that you can stay with. The list is already quite short.
"Stay with me," and you turn your head to meet, a shocked expression to his lighthearted smile.
"I really can't. I don't wish to intrude like that." you shake your hands in defense.
"Unless you have anyone else to turn to, I'm your best bet Ms. L/n. You won't be intruding anyway. I'm not uncomfortable with it and I think Jieun would be delighted to have you over for 3 days." he shrugs, waiting for you to answer.
This is the third time he has persuaded you this night. No wonder he's a successful businessman, he can talk you right into doing whatever wants, and you're not opposing any of it.
Staying with him won't be too bad right? I mean he must have room in this mansion of his. Plus he is always busy and I have class so we won't interact as much right?
Your face begins to heat up at the thought of being in such close proximity to Mr. Park. Wait, why are you thinking of that right now?
You exhale and look at him as you've made your decision.
"I'll stay with you."
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a/n: hey yall! so long time no see. i'm going to continue this series after not touching it for almost 2 years. i'm sorry for the delay but even i had to know how this was going to end. i hope some of yall are interested in it still (praying actually). anyways please enjoy this part, i'll see you soon!!
please let me know if you wanna be added to the tagslist!!
tagslist: @miamyre @flowersiinherhaiir @vvsmydiamonds127 @prodsh00ky @jhmylove @sunwoosberrie @jenotation @seonghwasstar @zwiehe @nagadiluc @kodzukein @heavenly-mobo @nevieatiny @smeetb0ne3 @yeosxxx @koalakoala8 @imalildelulu @sookacc @lunaa2210 @asjkdk @wal-nutt @iheartyeonjunnn @yoonsanbin
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eddiesxangel · 9 months
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Hey!
I’m really bad at explaining stuff so bare with me haha😂
I was thinking that reader is a virgin and has never even kissed anyone, then she starts dating Eddie and he’s her first everything…
Then someday while they’re having sex, Wayne walks in on them and then he tries to talk to them about being safe and something like that 😅
The Sweet Days in the Shire | Eddie Munson x F!Reader
omg, this is so heavily inspired by my own experience...Are you in my walls? this is literally my experience with my current bf now...How did you know?!
Word count: 7.2k oops
Cw: This is NOT a fic about corruption kink. Angst, fluff, f!reader, readers first time (oral, fingering, p in v penetration) , reader and Eddie are 22. Happy ending 🤭
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*Five years ago*
"I'm going to die alone," You groaned.
Were you being dramatic? Yes. But you were seventeen and truly felt like the most undesirable girl. No one had ever shown any interest in you. Your best guy friend, Eddie, was trying to convince you otherwise.
You had known Eddie since first grade but only got to know him once you went into tenth grade.
"Come on, don't be like that" Eddie spoke.
You were hanging out in the Shire, a.k.a. Eddie's bedroom, reviewing the new DND campaign, making sure there were no significant loopholes the others could get through.
"It's true! No guy had ever liked me like that, or if they have, they're all weird, and I don't like them back... Remember Lorne? He told me he liked me out of the blue when I hadn't spoken one word to him.'"
Eddie chuckled.
"It's not funny, Eddie! What was I supposed to say? I hardly knew the guy."
"I'm sorry. You're right. It's not funny." But he was still laughing.
"Ugggggggh," you rested your head back in defeat.
"So what if non of these shitty high school guys aren't interested? You're way out of their league."
"You're just saying that as my best friend."
"I'm really not. They are all douchebags or interested in anything other than getting a girlfriend."
"What about you?"
"What about me?"
"Where do you fall in that line?"
"I'm different." He smirked.
All you could do was roll your eyes. Of course, Eddie was different. He was Eddie. Your Eddie. Eddie, who you sprung a teeny tiny crush on within the last couple of months.
"I feel like such a loser, Eds. I'm seventeen and haven't even had my first kiss." You admit, softly.
"What?" This caught Eddie by surprise.
"You heard me." You mumbled.
"Impossible."
"Well, I'm not lying." You snap.
"Don't believe you"
"Well, you don't think I would have told you if some guy came up to me and planted one on me?" You folded into yourself. Succumbing to your self-depreciation.
Why didn't he believe you? Was it really that hard to believe that you were such a loser that no one has even ever tried to kiss you?
"Okayyy. So what if I helped you with that?" he pushed you back up.
"What?"
"I mean-shit- you obviously don't have to; you probably don't want to kiss me. We are just friends. But if you want to get it over with, you can...-I can help you." He rambled.
"Okay," You answered without thinking. You've wanted to kiss Eddie for months. You wanted him to be your first.
"Yea?"
You nodded your head, afraid of what might come out of your mouth next.
"Uh-okay"
You both shift, so you're facing one another. You don't move, unsure of how to approach this. Eddie was much more experienced than you. He probably already lost his virginity at this point. But the two of you never spoke about that.
So here you were, sitting on his bedroom floor, with your eyes closed, like a statue, until Eddie leaned in. You felt his warm, plush lips against yours. Butterflies soared in your stomach. It was just like everyone always described it to be. You felt the connection, that spark. The kiss felt like it lasted hours when, in reality, it was nothing more than a peck. But as far as first kisses go, you were convinced it was the best.
"Wow," you let slip when he pulled away.
Eddie chuckled softly and leaned back on the bed like nothing had happened.
Your stomach dropped at the realization that you and Eddie were, in fact, just friends. He didn't feel the connection you had.
"Thanks," you managed to get out without your voice cracking in disappointment.
"Anytime, Pip." He smiled and then went back to the DND campaign...
To add more salt to your wound, Eddie was arm-in-arm with Veronica a week later. Eddie had never even mentioned interest in her. You spoke every day. You never once hear him display any interest in a girl... another girl when not even six days ago he was kissing you in his bedroom. And that's when you decided to distance yourself from Eddie Munson.
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*Present Day*
After a very long four years of college out of state, you were back in your hometown of Hawkins, Indiana. Freshly twenty-two, you finally blossomed into the young woman you were meant to be. At college, you got to find yourself and your people. Once you had found your confidence, you grew into yourself. You had got a haircut that flattered your face and styled yourself with clothes that made you feel comfortable and confident. Before, it used to be all-black jeans and band tees that hid your figure. But now you find wearing skirts, dresses, and colo!
You used to be a late bloomer, but now you have gained many life experiences. However, you still need help in the love department. Your college years had been your party girl era, for sure. However, nothing ever went past a makeout session in the bar because you weren't like that... you wanted to have sex with someone you trusted, who you loved. Not some random stranger.
So here you were, back home in the early days of summer, and you were out job hunting. You'd been out on Main Street, in and out of stores, looking to see who was hiring, handing out your resume for about half an hour.
The sun was scorching for this time of year, causing you to start sweating and feel uncomfortable without air conditioning. As you walked by the local record store, you noticed they were advertising a job opening, and it felt like fate. You breathed a sigh of relief as you stepped inside the cool store. The door chimes jingled, announcing to anyone who was around that a customer had arrived. The store appeared empty, with not a soul in sight.
"Hello?" Your voice filled the empty air. "Hello?" You repeated once again a minute later with no reply.
"I'm here to apply for the job?" You peek around the back of the counter. As you looked over, you noticed a slightly open door. A figure passed by, but they didn't seem to notice you.
You respectfully waited a few more minutes but were becoming impatient. You decided to round the back of the counter and knock on the door labelled Staff Only.
"Excuse me." You knock and push it open a little further so you can see inside the staff room.
You notice a young man facing away from you, wearing headphones covering his ears. The loud guitar and bass sound emanates from the headphones. It's no surprise that he couldn't hear you.
"Excuse me?" You say a little louder, but it doesn't seem helpful. You sigh and walk up to him, hoping he doesn't take a swing at you for sneaking up on him.
Apprehensively, you tap the man's shoulder twice before stepping back quickly before they can react.
"What the fuck?" They rip off the headphones, and your stomach drops as you recognize the voice. Your prediction is confirmed as Eddie turns around with a frightened look on his face.
"You can't be back h-" He cuts himself when the reality of who he was talking to hits him.
"Eddie?" you cock your head in curiosity.
"Oh my God, Pippin?" he smiled brightly.
It had been four years since the last time you saw him. You briefly crossed paths in the hallways of Hawkins High, but the two of you hadn't spoken more than a sentence to each other since the day he kissed you. It was nice to hear his voice again.
"Hi," You smiled.
Eddie swore he heard angels singing when you spoke. You looked different, good, but different. More confident. More like yourself.
"What are you doing here?" He asked.
"Trying to apply for the job posting. I've been waiting ten minutes in the store calling out for someone like a moron." You giggled.
"Shit, sorry, I was just on my break." He scratched the back of his head, letting his bicep flex in his tight band tee.
You tried your best not to stare at him, but your attraction to Eddie lingered. He looked really good, having filled out more and grown out more facial hair than he had in high school. He still, however, had his pretty wavy locks. They were just a bit shorter than you were used to.
"Oh, sorry, I can come back later."
"No!" He blurted out. "I mean, it's really good to see you..."
"It's nice seeing you too; it's been a long time," you shy.
"Yeah" He sighed.
"So are you the person I need to talk to about the job or..." You try to fill the awkward silence.
"Shit, yeah, I guess so. I'm, uh, the manager." He cleared his throat.
"Wow, manager, very impressive! Moving on up in the world, Munson," You laugh.
"Watch is missy; you want the job or not?" He slung his arm around your shoulder and walked you back out to the front of the store.
You couldn't help the shiver that broke through your body when his arm made contact with you. It didn't help that he also smelled delicious.
"Well, if it means I get to work alongside you? ... Yeah, I want it," You flirt.
"Oh, I see buttering up an old confidant for a job." He smirked.
"Things with Eddie returned to normal as if nothing had ever changed. Like you never left. Like he never kissed you, then broke your naive teenage heart.
"Well, the job is yours if you want it." He smiled.
"Just like that?" You ask in shock.
"Just like that. I don't wanna go through all that paperwork and boring questions. I know you, trust you. It's full-time. $5.50 an hour. So it's yours if you think you can stand working with me daily."
"I think I can manage that."
"Great. We can start training tomorrow at 10:00am."
"Deal." You reached out to shake his hand, but Eddie only stared at it like you were crazy.
"Come on, Pippin, a handshake? Who do you think I am? Bring it in." He opened his arms up to embrace you in a hug.
Pippin. No one but Eddie called you that. It was a nickname he gave you in the tenth grade because you were smaller than him... He said Pippin was the best hobbit from his favourite book.
"You know I could have robbed the store, and you wouldn't have known a thing," you quip, trying to play off the way your breath hitched when you embraced him.
Your hormones would have to chill if you were going to work together.
"That's why security cameras were invented, sweetheart."
"Oh," You shied away. You weren't as clever as you had thought.
"I'll see you tomorrow," he guides you out the door.
"Bye, Eddie." You smile.
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Over the next three weeks, you and Eddie picked up where you had left off all those years ago. Things were good, great even. The flame that had been blown out was brought back to life and hotter than ever. There was an extreme tension between the two of you.
However, you both were avoiding the elephant in the room. It was fine until it wasn't. It was eating at Eddie. He loved having you back, but needed to know why you left and ended the friendship.
You were stocking up the new supply of jazz cassettes that came in when you felt Eddie come up behind you.
"Hey, so -uh- what happened?" he leaned back on the shelving, as he crossed his arms.
"What do you mean?" you chirp. Did you do something wrong? Was the till not even?
"With us, I mean, one day we were best buds, and then the next you were just... gone. I really missed you."
Oh, so we are having this conversation. You knew it was inevitable.
"You mean you really don't know?"
"Know what?"
"God, men are dumb," you mumbled under your breath.
"Hey! I heard that"
"Good." You deadpan.
Eddie stared at you blankly.
"You kissed me, Eddie. That meant something to me. Then you were with Veronica a week later..."
"Woah, woah, woah, woah, woah, what?" Eddie's eyes went wide with confusion.
"Eddie..." You sighed. This conversation was giving you a headache.
"Pip, I didn't? I wouldn't. I-"
"Forget it, Eddie. It was a long time ago."
"Did you like me or something?" He genuinely asked.
"Or something," You mumbled back.
"Pip, I'm sorry I didn't know... I had no idea you liked me like that. I would have never offered to kiss you if I had known. I never wanted to lead you on."
"It's okay, Eddie. We were seventeen. I eventually got over it, but I had to not be around you to do that. I'm sorry I ran away... I missed you. Like a lot."
"Pip-" Eddie began, but a customer was ready to be rung up at the counter.
The rest of the day was busy, and your shift ended before Eddie's did today. So you quickly said goodbye and waited to talk to him the next day.
Eddie needed to make things right between you. What you had once was so good, and now it seems to be even better than before. Eddie was becoming infatuated with you. He got excited to go to work when you were on schedule. He loved making you laugh; seeing that beautiful smile across your face was his favourite pastime. He could have had that all these years, but it was all ruined for some hot piece of ass Eddie got for a few weeks in their senior year.
Eddie had met Veronica in his grade twelve English class. She was way out of his league, so when she agreed to go out with him, he was only thinking with his dick.
He was thinking about her and how she would be on his knees for him when he kissed you for funsies. He was not thinking about how it would have affected you. He was a selfish teenage boy being controlled by his hormones. Because of that, Eddie was now facing the consequences of his actions all because he wanted to get his dick wet in the twelfth grade.
“Hey Pip, can I talk to you for a sec?” Eddie greeted you when he walked in for his shift mid-afternoon.
“Sure what’s up?” Things were a little rocky since yesterday and you didn’t know where you stood.
God what was this so hard? Why did you make him nervous?
“I uh. I was hoping we could hang out… you know. Outside of work. If you wanted. I wanted to make up for being an ass.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.
"Okay." you smiled.
"Awesome! We are both off on Friday… I made sure.” Eddie said with a goofy smile. God, you were so falling for him again.
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You and Eddie have been spending time together outside work every chance you have had for the past six months. He invited you to see your old high school crowd the first few times, and then it slowly became more one-on-ones. Unfortunately for you, your ever-growing crush on Eddie had come back and was stronger than ever.
You hated yourself for falling for him again, but you couldn't help yourself. He was just so charming, boisterous, funny, and not to mention the most attractive man you've seen. Eddie was a natural flirt; he always was throwing compliments your way. He always knew how to make you blush.
That evening during closing, Eddie offered you to come over to The Shire. a.k.a his trailer. After a long, tiring day, both of you wanted some relaxation. He suggested staying in and having a cozy evening with pizza, beers, and perhaps a little weed to escape the cold November weather.
As the night progressed, it began to snow, and a snowstorm was predicted for later in the evening.
"Do you want your usual order, Pip?" Eddie turned his head to glance at you. You were standing near the front door, taking off your hat, scarf, and jacket. As he was watching you, he got lost in your graceful movements. Suddenly, he realized he was staring at you and almost bumped into his fridge.
"Yeah," you shiver. You almost thought about putting your coat back on, but that would be silly. "Can I borrow a sweater or a blanket?" You asked sweetly.
"Of course, sweetheart." Eddie didn't miss the way your nipples perked out of your low-cut t-shirt when you wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to warm up, but it only emphasized your breasts.
"Where is Wayne tonight?" You asked.
"He has an overnight shift tonight; he probably just left not too long ago." He said as he disappeared into his bedroom to find you a clean hoodie.
"I'm sorry, I missed him; I haven't seen that guy in years." You huffed. You loved Wayne; he was like a second dad.
"Yeah, he keeps talking you up like I don't already know how amazing you are." He threw the black hoodie at your head.
"Hey!"
I just gave you my sweater and a compliment, I think you should be thanking me."
"Shut up and order the pizza before the storm, Munson." You laugh as you pull the sweater over your head.
You and Eddie settled in, splitting a six-pack of cheap beer and delicious pizza. You wanted to watch a movie after dinner, so Eddie found a few stashed away that he still had yet to return to Family Video.
"How do you feel about horror?" He wiggled his eyebrows.
"You know I don't like scary movies, Eds." You whine.
"Well, hate to break it to you, sweetcheeks, but this is all we got, so it's either this... or cable that will most likely be down within the next half hour if the weather keeps up." You glanced out the window, and if you didn't leave now, you were not making it home tonight. The storm had started a lot earlier than anticipated.
"Oh shit, it's awful out. I didn't think it would be this bad so soon! I should go... shit, I've been drinking, we both have! We can't drive!" You started freaking out.
"Pip, you can always crash here. I don't mind." He offered.
"Are you sure?" You twiddled with the drawstrings of the hoodie.
"Of course! You think I would let you go out there?"
"Well... no."
"We can share my bed". He said nonchalantly.
Was he insane?! You can share a bed... with him... you'll want to do things with him. You can't take the rejection again.
"Umm."
"Well, I would sleep on the pull-out couch by Wayne sleeps there."
"It's okay... we are both adults," You swallowed. "Hey, do you have any more beer?" You needed a drink. Desperately.
"Oh, so we are having one of those nights? Edie wiggled his brows at you, and you rolled your eyes in return.
"I need liquid courage for these movies you're going to put me through," You fibbed.
"Don't worry, Pip. I'll protect you."
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Two movies and many screams later, you called it. You were maxed out on the spooky stuff. Halloween was long gone, and you were supposed to be in Christmas mode.
"You can get ready for bed first. I'll follow after. Eddie offered.
You slipped into Edie's hoodie and got under the covers, realizing the sweater was long enough to be worn as a nightgown. Eddie would be none the wiser that you had forgone pants.
You called for Eddie to enter, and he got ready for bed. You tried to pretend to occupy yourself as you watched Eddie get undressed and ready for bed. He pulled his plaid pyjama pants over his boxers and forgone a shirt.
There was tension in the air, but neither of you said anything. You held your breath as Eddie turned off the bedroom light and felt the bed dip as he got in.
"Pip?" Eddie broke the silence moments later.
"Yeah?"
"Can I ask you something?'
"Sure."
"Did you ever date anyone when you went away?"
"No"
"No?"
"Well...I went on one date, and he was shorter than me..." You laughed at how ridiculous it was. You didn't even like him, but you felt bad because you agreed to give him your number when you were out dancing one night, and you'd consumed a little too much alcohol.
"How is that even possible?"
"Well, you see, Edward everyone has different heights an-"
"No, you doofus," he laughed. "how is it possible you never dated anyone? You're beautiful." He says like it’s obvious.
Eddie made you feel fluttery when he called you beautiful.
“What?”
“You’re beautiful, Pip," Eddie repeated. "You’re a total catch; how are you still single?”
“Guess I never met the right guy…”
“Oh... " It was quiet for a moment then Eddie spoke again. "I know you always said you uh- wanted to you know…. Wait for the right guy and all… so have you slept with anyone since you were gone?”
“Eddie!” you cry, covering your face with your hands. You’re so mortified by this conversation.
“I’m sorry! Can’t blame a guy for his morbid curiosity.” you could hear the smirk in his voice.
“I can’t believe you remembered that. I mentioned it once six years ago.”
“I remember every thing when it comes to you.”
You felt his fingers intertwine with yours.
“Eddie…” you whisper.
“Yea”
"Ask me again."
"Are you still a virgin?"
You let out a deep sigh before you answered. “I’ve given it a lot of thought. And I want you to be my first.” you blurt out at a mile a minute.
“Pippin-”
“Just don’t go off with another girl next week or else I’m going to have to quit” you chuckle uncomfortably.
“Are you sure? Because if we start this I’m never going to want to let you go… not ever again.” He rolled over to face you.
“I’m so sure, Eddie, you’re the only one I’ve ever wanted.” You rolled to face him.
You didn’t know where this bravery was coming from. Maybe it was the combination of alcohol and being in the dark, but something sparked inside of you that you couldn’t put out.
“Can I kiss you?”
“Please”
You both moved in tandem as your lips collided. Years, months, weeks, days, hours, and minutes that all lead you to this moment, this perfect moment. Eddie and you always belonged together.
“I missed you so much,” Eddie spoke into your mouth as he shifted to hover over you.
“I missed you too. I missed you so much.” You grabbed for him, to touch and feel him. Your hands gripped his hair at the back of his head.
“Baby,” Eddie sat up and slinked his hands under his sweatshirt up your bare middle.
Baby. Goosebumps spread across your body from his touch. His calloused fingers lightly scratched your soft skin, and his hands travelled further up until his fingertips grazed your breasts.
“Can I take this off?”
“Yes,” The temperature in the room suddenly increased, making you feel extremely hot. The hoodie you were wearing became suffocating.
“Sit up for me, baby. Arms up.” You obliged and felt nervous that you were basically naked in front of Eddie. You pull your arms out of the sweater and cover yourself immediately.
“No, baby, please, don’t hide from me.” He gently peels your arms away from your body. “Beautiful,” He whispers with eyes full of lust.
You reached out to cup his face so you could kiss him again. You needed to distract yourself from the fact that you were naked in front of someone for the first time. Your kisses felt rushed and needy like you would die without them.
"Slow down, Pip, we have all the time in the world." Eddie coxed you back down into the plush pillows of his bed. "I'm going to take good care of you. okay?"
You nod your head yes to let him know you understand. The room was dark, but the street light peaked through the blinds. You could hear your heartbeat along with the howl of the wind from the snowstorm. You looked over to the clock. It read 12:18am. Wayne won't be home until early morning, at least 6:00am, especially in a storm like this.
Eddie leaned forward to kiss you again, travelling his lips down your body with each peck. His mouth found your neck, and he sucked on it, making your hips jerk up into him. You could feel his erection against your leg, which only excited you more.
He made his way lower once satisfied with the marking he left on your skin. He nipped and licked and peppered your sensitive chest before latching his mouth around a perked nipple. How Eddie fantasized about this very moment for months. To him, your boobs were perfect. The way your soft skin felt under his tongue, it was like they were made for him.
You let out a squeak, embarrassed by the noises you held back. You didn't know if this was normal? To want to make sounds while Eddie's mouth discovered your body.
"Don't be shy, baby. You can let it go. Get loud. I want to hear you."
"Are you sure, Eddie? Is that like... normal?"
"Oh god, yes, it's like music to my ears... Would it make you feel better if I shared with you what I like?"
"Yes."
"Okay, well." He clasped your hand, intertwining your fingers as he rested his chin on your upper stomach. "I like it when the person I'm with makes noises; it lets me know I'm doing well. I like it when the person I'm with takes compliments and praises. I like it when the person I'm with calls me certain names, but we will save that for another time. And I like it when I get to be in charge... like right now."
"What kind of names?" You bite your lower lip.
"Ah ah, naughty girl. You'll find out eventually. But not tonight." Eddie promised.
"Eventually?" your heart perked up with hope.
"You think this is going to be a one-and-done? You're sadly mistaken, Pip." He shifted his weight and started back up, loving your body. Worshiping it with a thousand kisses. Lower, lower, lower until he reached the hem of your plain black panties.
“Has anyone ever touched you here?” His hand cupped your panty-covered cunt.
“No.” you shiver.
“I’m honoured to be your first” He slowly started to guide and move his hand over your clothed pussy, massaging it. Exploring what makes your body jerk and tick. You let out a gasp as his soft touch grazed over your already swollen clit.
"That's my girl." he cooed as his hand travelled up and under the hemline of your underwear.
His hand slid down your soft, manicured mound before finding your slit. He let one singular finger travel down your clit to collect the wetness that had pooled and dragged it back up to play with you some more.
"Oh my god," You yelped as the unfamiliar but wonderful feeling of Eddie's hands explored your body.
"You're so wet, sweetheart. This all for me?" He raised his hand to examine the clear, wet, slippery substance that coated his fingers. He then stuck his fingers in his mouth before his eyes rolled back into his head. He moaned at the taste of you.
You were curious if you should be turned on or grossed out by Eddie's behaviour. "You taste like heaven." He praised you, and your body ultimately decided for you. You were turned on.
"Please touch me," You barely whisper. You bravely started to take off your panties when Eddie's hands stopped you.
"That's my favourite part." His hands replaced yours, and he watched intently as he stripped you down into nothing.
You were now fully naked in front of Eddie. You were a bit nervous, but not overly concerned. You trusted Eddie because you've gotten to know each other better over the past six months.
"My god, you're beautiful," He praised once again. You don't think you will ever get tired of him saying that. Your heart soared each time without fail.
"So are you," You whispered back and swore you saw Eddie blush.
Eddie's hands found your needy pussy once more. He wiggled his way down the bed, and he played with your clit until his face was level with your cunt. You felt so exposed you wanted to close your legs right away. But you also wanted to know what it felt like to have Eddie's mouth on your most intimate area.
"Show me how you play with yourself."
This shocked you, and your body froze. How could he ask you to do such a crass thing? Eddie sure was pushing a lot of your boundaries tonight.
"Come on, sweetheart. It's okay, perfectly natural."
You didn't want to disappoint him, so with a trembling hand, you started to circle your clit like always. The feeling started as a mild ache in your lower stomach, but it began to rise as you continued. Your worries and apprehensions slowly drifted away as the feeling of pleasure wafted through your body.
"You never push your fingers inside?" Eddie was mesmerized by the sight in front of him.
You shake your head no. "Doesn't feel right." You were too afraid to finger yourself in the past, not wanting to push the limits; you knew how to please yourself from clit stimulation alone.
"I'm about to change that." Eddie replaced your hand with his mouth, and you cried out in pleasure. This new feeling of something hot and wet consuming your pussy made your eyes involuntarily roll back into your head.
"Yes, good girl, let me hear you." He latched his mouth back onto your clit. His tongue circled and flicked your swollen bud until you were on the edge. You were so close, then his finger slowly entered you, and that took on a whole new feeling. His fingers were longer and wider than your own. He stretched and reached further than you have ever experienced.
"Holy shit!" You cried as his fingers pushed deep inside you. Eddie was careful to go slowly. His middle finger pumped in and out of you before he added another. As his finger worked inside of you, you felt a wave of pleasure from a spot you hadn't ever felt before. It made you cry out embarrassingly loud.
"Ohhhh, good job babygirl." He chuckled smugly. Eddie knew that he had found your one spot that would make you see stars. So, he continuously grazed over it again and again.
You didn't know what was happening to you; your body was undulating under Eddie's touch. He struggled to keep your hips pinned down as he continued to devour your pussy. You couldn't think; you couldn't form words. Your brain had gone into a cloudy haze that focused only on your body and how Eddie was making you feel.
No wonder everyone raved about sex.
"Eddie, Eddie, Eddie" You didn't even know you were talking.
“That’s it, baby, say my name.”
"Eddie!" Your body clenched, and every muscle in your contract as your orgasm ripped through you. Waves of pleasure pulsed as Eddie's mouth and fingers continued to massage your pussy.
"Mmmm, that's my girl. You did so good for me." Eddie praised, and your stomach did another flip-flop at his words.
"You think you want to keep going? Or do you want to stop? You don't need to worry about me. This is all about you, Pip. Okay?"
"I want to keep going." Your voice sounded breathy, like it wasn't coming from you.
"You're sure?"
"Yes, Eddie, I want you to fuck me. Please," you squirmed.
"God, I love hearing those words from your mouth." Eddie bent down to kiss you once again.
.As he kissed you, his mouth had a tangy and slightly salty taste. He explored your mouth with his tongue, just as he had moments before with your lower lips.
"I'm going to go get a condom, okay?" He whispered again to you.
"Okay," you bit your lip with anticipation.
You watched as Eddie shuffled on his knees off the bed to his nightstand and grabbed a blue cardboard box out of his stuffed drawer. He pulled out the foil packet and pulled down his pants and boxers. Your eyes bludged at the sight of Eddie's cock. Sure, you knew what a penis looked like. However, this was your first time seeing one in real life.
"No need to be scared, Pip." Eddie gave a reassuring smile.
"Okay, Eddie," You whispered.
"You can touch me if you want?" He walked over to the bed, cock at full mast. You slowly nod your head and reach out to feel it. Obviously, it felt hard, but you were surprised by the soft skin that felt like velvet.
Eddie made a whimpering sound as your delicate fingers grazed the red tip. You jerked back your hand, afraid you'd hurt him.
"No, no, Pip," Eddie stutterd. "You're okay; it just felt really good s'all."
"Oh," you blushed. Amazed at yourself that you made him feel really good.
"Shit, okay, I'm going to put the condom on now, okay?"
"Okay," you repeated like a parrot.
"Can you lay back for me?" Eddie crawled back up on the bed and over you once more.
You popped back down, and Eddie giggled at your eagerness. He wanted to make this perfect for you, but in your mind he already had. He wanted it to be the least painful he could make it. Hopefully, your orgasm will have helped with that.
"This may hurt a little, but I'm going to go slow, and if you need me to stop or pull out, you tell me, okay?" Eddie's face had never been so serious.
You nod your head.
"No, Pip. I need your words. I need you to tell me you understand. It's important."
Oh.
"I'll let you know if I need to stop. I promise."
"Good girl."
You sucked in a breath and bit your lip at his words. Eddie took a mental note about your reaction. He would tuck it away and save it for later.
"You're already wet enough, I think. I'm going to try and put it in now okay?" Eddie kissed you tenderly and you replied.
The feeling was odd. You felt like you were being split open as your walls burned from being stretched the furthest they have ever been.
"Oh god," Your face scratched as Eddie went in deeper.
"You okay? I can stop"
"No, I can do this. Just stay there a minute." Your body needed time to adjust.
"It's okay," Eddie cooed. He peppered your cheeks with small kisses as he waited for further instructions.
"Okay, I think I'm okay." Your vagina was still tight, but it wasn't as bad as a few minutes ago.
Eddie made sure to be as gentle as possible. Even though it was killing him to not just ram into you repeatedly. Your soft, warm walls were squeezing him so good, too good.
Eventually, after what felt like an hour, Eddie finally reached the hilt. You never felt so full. The feeling was strange yet exciting.
"I'm going to move now, okay?"
He was so patient and kind; you never imagined your first time to be so guided and full of communication. You thought it would just be like boom, stick it in and start. But, no. Not with Eddie.
As Eddie started to rock his hips, the burning started to ease into pleasure. Your hips started moving and rocking with Eddie's body, and you worked together to feel pleasure. Your instincts took over as your thoughts started to numb.
"That's it, baby, fuck, you're making me feel so good." Eddie praised.
"Mmmmm," Was all you managed to get out.
Eddie took that as a sign he could go faster. Thank god he did because the moans that came from you were sinful.
"Yes, baby, be as loud as you want," Eddie commanded before latching his mouth back on the sweet spot he found earlier.
A high-pitched ""Uhhhhhnhhhh" left your mouth as you became more and more cockdrunk by the second. His thick long cock was grazing your walls, finding your g spot that he had reached earlier in the night. Making you yell out his name.
"That's it, baby girl; tell me, who owns this pussy?" Eddie gritted through his teeth, and his pulsing cock pounded into you.
"W-what?"
"Sorry, shit, sorry I got carried away." Eddie kept his rhythm as he forgot that this was your first sexual experience. He couldn't wait to teach you about all his little desires. "you're doing so good for me."
"o-okay"
Your nails lightly scratch up Eddie's back, making him shiver. You then run back down and grab onto his ass. You hugged him like a koala bear, refusing to have this feeling he was giving you to go away. You were so blissed out by it all.
"God baby, I don't think I can hold out much longer," Eddie puffed. His hips never break the rhythm he set.
"Please," you didn't know what you were begging for? You just need him.
"I got you, baby girl; you're being so good for me" Eddie felt your pussy clench down at his words of praise.
"Come on, baby; I know you can give me one more," His hand slipped between you two and found your clit once again. You were so overstimulated that with just a few mild touches, you were falling apart, beneath Eddie.
"Oh fuck, you're squeezing me so good" Eddie tried to hold off, to keep going, to keep fucking you, but he couldn't. Your pussy was so tight around his cock he emptied himself into the condom that was buried inside of you.
Your head felt like it was spinning; your body was limp and racing with those feel-good hormones.
"I'll be right back." He kissed your cheek before getting up off of you after he caught his breath, got rid of the condom and cleaned himself up before returning with a wet cloth for you. But when he returned to the bedroom, you were fast asleep.
He laid the damp cloth on the back of his desk chair and brought the covers back up over the both of you before pulling you into his chest to cuddle you until he fell asleep.
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The next morning the snow had finally stopped, and the bright sunlight had peaked its way through the slits of the cheap blinds that hung in the window.
Eddie heard footsteps outside the bedroom door in his hazy, half-asleep state. He peeked in an eye to see you sprawled out comfortably in his bed. He lifted covers to see your still naked body that he didn't really get to see last night due to the pitch black. He could see the marks he had made more clearly as they had gotten darker within the night.
He couldn't help himself. Here you were naked, sleeping with him in his bed; he just had to touch you. He kissed up the side of your exposed neck, marking the other side that had been left untouched. You moaned and squirmed, then giggled when Eddie's hair tickled you.
The reality of where you were hit the second you awoke.
"Oh, Eddie," You softly moaned.
"Good morning, baby," Eddie rolled on top of you, his morning wood more hormonal than ever.
" 'Morning," you smiled, tucking a piece of hair behind his ear before Eddie nuzzled his head behind the small of your neck.
"So I was hopin' that you'd want to go out with me, officially... or whatever?" He cleared his throat. His morning voice was so sexy.
"Or whatever?" you smiled back up at him.
"Or wha-"
"Hey, Ed's, I'm finally back-Holy hell!-" Suddenly, Uncle Wayne was walking into the bedroom, and you were screaming, trying to cover yourself, and Eddie was trying to cover as much of you as he could.
Wayne was mortified as he shut the door behind him as quickly as possible.
"Put a sock on the door next time you have company, Kid!" Wayne shouted, flustered as ever.
Eddie barked out a laugh, and you couldn't be more embarrassed.
"Oh my god, I can't go out there? Do you think I can fit through the window?" You asked Eddie before covering your face with your hands.
"Come on, Pip. I'm sure he didn't see anything; probably only saw my pasty ass." He got up and pulled you along with him.
He found your folded clothes on the chair where you had left them, but when you went to put on your underwear, they were nowhere to be found.
You got dressed without them, and Eddie pulled you out of his room hand in hand to Face Wayne.
"So I guess it was your car all covered in snow." Wayne shifted uncomfortably in his chair as he sat at the kitchen table with a cup of black coffee. "There uh- coffee for the both of ya's if you want." He offered.
"Thanks." You tugged at your sleeve, not knowing what to do. Should you leave? Should you stay? Can you leave? The show was up to your knees.
"Better make yourself comfortable; the plows will take a while to get to this side of town." Wayne made the decision for you. Eddie guided you to the kitchen table and pulled out a seat for you.
"Wayne, you remember Pippin, don't you?" Eddie smiled brightly as he got you two mugs.
"Of course I do." He smiled genuinely this time. The awkwardness was lifting.
Eddie didn't need to ask how you took your coffee. He remembered two creams and two sugar. He once said it was too sweet, just like you.
"Thanks," you smile up at him as he places your coffee before you.
"I was wondering when the two of you would finally get together... Ever since high school, I've been bugging this one," He motions to Eddie, " To get his head out of his ass and to lock you down already."
"Took him long enough, you giggle"
"Now I know you two are adults, but I don't need no little munson babies running around here just yet, so you better be safe-"
"Okay, okay, Old man, we get it. We have already had this uncomfortable talk once when I was fifteen. I don't need it again."
"Fifteen?!" your eyes blog you're off your head.
"What can I say? The ladies love them some, Eddie." he smiled cockily.
You lightly pinch Eddie's arm, so he shuts up.
"Hey!" Eddie rubbed his bicep.
I knew I always liked you." Wayne tipped up his mug to you with a smile. "keep him in line."
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beejunos · 5 months
Text
SPEAK TO ME | Sneak peek [Alastor x f.reader] | SMUT (mdni)
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Summary: Alastors voice turns you on. Something he loves to take advantage of.
If you want you read the full story, press THIS LINK
Did someone ask for an Alastor voice kink fic?! This is only a sneak peek! I hope to finish this little smutty story in about two days.
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Halfway through your night routine, you turned on your radio at a soft, pleasant volume, and Alastor's smooth voice filled the otherwise silent room. 
"Salutations, friends and hellish residents! Tonight, we have a splendid assortment of the latest news and the best Hell has to offer in jazz, but before we chitchat about our dear city's hellish affairs, here is the newest music from Miss Jezebel and The Wicked Six!" 
Slow and sultry jazz music started to play on the radio. The woman who sang had a deep, smoky quality that was inherently sexy to you. There was just something about women who sang with deep voices that made your hips sway from side to side, effortlessly dancing across your room as you started to strip, pretending there was someone there who enjoyed the show you put on. 
You turned off all the lights except the small lamp by your bed and crawled under the thick blanket. You left the radio on as you made yourself comfortable, hugging one of your pillows close to you. 
The song ended, and Alastor came back. This time, he started talking about the news. Since the news sometimes made you too sad to sleep, you never really listened to what he was saying; you only listened to his voice—his tone, the cadence of his speech, and his transatlantic accent. 
You let his voice wash over you like a soothing balm to your aching body, but soon, you felt the familiar tingles run up your back. Warmth pooled low within you as you shifted in your bed, lying on your back. The desire to touch and be touched grew in you, to move, to grind, to satisfy the urge for sex. 
Closing your eyes and letting your hands wander over your body, you start by slowly dragging your fingertips over your sensitive throat, making sure that your light fingertips touch all the places that made you weak. 
Your hands travel from your throat down to your chest. Palming your breasts in your hand, you drag your nails over your sensitive nipples. Pinshin, pulling and rolling them between your fingers till they are warm and hard. 
Your senses sharpen as you start to feel more intensely, but your mind goes hazy, making it hard to think clearly. Alastors voice is but background noise now that edges you on.
One hand stays on your breast as the other journeys down, down, down and under your underwear. 
You slowly drag your finger between your lips, coating your finger in your wetness as you slowly pull it towards your clit. A breathless gasp is pulled from your mouth the first time your finger comes in contact with your sensitive clit. Slowly and with the lightest touch, you start to circle the organ, and what feels like electricity builds in your loins.
You can't help but move in your bed, legs bending and toes curling as you give yourself the pleasure that you wished Alastor would provide you. Your hand that previously played with your breast joined your other hand, and you let out a not-so-subtle moan as you pushed two fingers into you. Desperately, you curl your fingers inside you to increase the pleasure. 
You want it. You need it. Your toes curl almost painfully as Alastors name falls from your lips like a prayer. 
You're so close. So close you can see stars behind your eyes. You breathlessly chase that sweet release. Building, and building, and building. Your legs are shaking as you bite your lips. Hips lift from the mattress as you fight the urge to close your legs.
You are so, so close.
"What are you doing, my dear?" 
Cold dread crashes through your body as you rip your hands away from your body. You frantically look all over your room in the shadows. Looking for that all-knowing smile and calculating red eyes. 
His voice had been so close and clear that he had to be in your room. It had felt like he had spoken to you right beside your ear. But you were alone. No one was in your room but you. 
"Such a naughty little creature you are, my dear. So desperate to be touched." 
Goosebumps travel up your back as you slowly turn in the direction you hear his voice. On your nightstand is the radio that Alastor gave you. It is still on, but the yellow light of the display has turned red. 
Towering over you in your bed, you almost feel like he is watching you. Observing you as you lay naked in your bed. Your blankets were by the end of the bed as you had kicked them off a long time ago. 
"Can't even listen to me talking without having to touch yourself. My oh my, what will I ever do with such a bad little doe, hm?" 
Shaking all over, you reached for the radio's electrical cord and jerked it out of the outlet. The radio fell silent as you collapsed in your bed. Spent, but not satisfied. However, you soon start to tremble over the fact that Alastor had listened to you pleasuring yourself, and he seemed to like it.
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violetszone · 3 months
Text
My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys
Charles x fem!reader
Summary: You were clubbing with your friend after a massive breakup with your boyfriend. Then find your true love.
A/n:No proofread was made. Lets finally start with ttpd series.
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The night started off normally. You were in Monaco with a friend, trying to rediscover yourself and have some fun after a massive breakup with your boyfriend. After getting drunk, your friend left with a guy, leaving you alone on one of the couches at the club.
One of your favorite songs started playing, so you got up and walked to the dance floor. As you danced slowly, you felt a hand on your waist. Looking up, you saw a pair of charming green eyes and smiled, dancing with him.
You don't even remember when you both started kissing and ended up in his hotel room.There were a few things you remembered from the night when you wake up: his kisses, his touches, and your screams of his name.
When you wake up, you sit in bed. Rub your face and sigh as you look at the perfect man lying next to you. Get up slowly walked towards the bathroom with your dress and shoes in your arms.
Charles stirred in his sleep before slowly waking up. As he gradually awoke, he felt your absence and opened his eyes. Looking around the room, he noticed you were no longer next to him. He sat up, groggy, and then heard the shower running, realizing where you were.
As you quietly left the bathroom and tiptoed toward the door, Charles was now fully awake, realizing you were about to leave. He quickly got out of bed, his bare chest exposed, and grabbed his boxers from the floor, hurriedly putting them on. He rushed to the door, but not quickly enough to catch you.
Just as you opened the door, he appeared behind you, grabbing your wrist to stop you. His eyes were filled with a mixture of surprise and disappointment.
"Leaving so soon, darling?"
You flinched. "Hey... you're awake?"
He looked at you with a mix of curiosity and hurt, let go of your wrist but blocked the door, preventing you from leaving. "Yeah. I woke up when I couldn't feel you next to me. Where were you going?"
"I-..." You blinked a few times. "I just thought..."
He raised an eyebrow at your stutter, wondering what was going through your mind. His expression softened slightly as he stepped closer.
"Thought what? Were you just going to leave without saying anything?"
"Well, no... not exactly," you mumbled.
He crossed his arms, studying your face. There was a hint of annoyance in his tone, but also a hint of hurt. "Then why were you sneaking out? Why not just wake me up and say goodbye?"
"Because you were sleeping?" you said, biting your tongue.
He scoffed, shaking his head slightly. "So what? Was it really that hard to wake me up? Just a 'Hey, I had fun last night, but I gotta go'? Instead, you tried to sneak out like this was nothing but a one-night stand."
You smiled, finding his words funny. "Hey,
don't get offended, okay..."
He rolled his eyes playfully, trying to hide a smirk. He took another step closer, now only inches away. "Oh, so you find this amusing now, huh? Not offended, my ass, darling."
You couldn't help but laugh. "I'm sorry."
The sound of your laughter made it impossible for him to stay mad. He chuckled a little, finally letting a smirk form on his face. "You're lucky you're cute. Otherwise, I would've been more upset right now."
"I just thought that you might like to wake up alone, maybe you know. A 26-year-old famous man..."
He raised an eyebrow, leaning against the doorframe with an amused expression. "And why would you think that? Just because I'm a 26-year-old famous man, I can't appreciate a little company? Do I seem that heartless?"
You shook your head. "No, look, I'm sorry. I just came out of a heartbreaking relationship, okay? I couldn't think straight. I'm sorry."
His annoyance quickly faded as he realized what you were dealing with. He sighed softly, and his expression softened. "No, hey, it's okay. I'm the one who should be sorry. I should've asked first before making assumptions. I didn't know you were dealing with something like that."
He held your shoulder gently as you shrugged. "It's fine... you know what? I'm hungry. Let's call room service." You walked back into the room.
He shook his head with a small chuckle, watching you. He closed the door and followed you, sitting down on the couch. "What do you want to eat, sweetheart? My treat." He smiled charmingly.
"A gentleman, I see..." You smiled.
He grabbed the hotel phone next to the bed and dialed the room service number. After placing the order, he hung up and looked back at you.
"Should be here in about fifteen minutes. So, we have some time to kill."
"Yes, I guess," you replied, sitting on the couch.
He couldn't take his eyes off you as you sat there. You looked so beautiful in the morning light, even with messy hair and wrinkled clothes. He walked over and sat down next to you.
"You know, for someone who just got out of a relationship, you sure were eager to go home with a stranger last night. Not the brightest idea, darling."
"I know. It was... just a long relationship that... I really believed he loved me but—" you sighed, "it turns out he didn't."
He listened with a sympathetic expression, his heart aching for you. He gently placed his hand on yours, offering comfort.
"Hey, that's tough. I'm sorry you had to go through that. You didn't deserve that."
You smiled. "It's okay, I am getting used to it. Anyway, you don't have to hear about this."
He gave you a small smile, appreciating your attempt to brush it off. He leaned back, his voice gentle.
"Hey, don't think like that. It's okay to vent sometimes, and I don't mind listening. I can tell it's been weighing on you."
You sighed. "It does... I'm normally not the talker type, more likely to listen. So it's weird for me. I'm a musician, actually. Not that popular, but yeah. I wrote an album about him called 'Lover.' Now I'm writing a new one called 'The Tortured Poets Department.'"
He raised an eyebrow, surprised by your revelation. A songwriter, huh? That explained the creativity and depth behind your words.
"A musician? That's pretty impressive. And writing an album for someone, that's serious dedication. I'm assuming it didn't work out with that guy, considering the album's name?"
"Well, when your lover turns out to be your torturer, it doesn't feel good. So my lover turned into 'The Tortured Poets Department.'" You shrugged and smiled sadly.
He let out a scoff, a mix of disgust and anger welling up inside him as he heard you talk about your ex-boyfriend.
"Damn. He put you through hell, huh? But I gotta say, 'The Tortured Poets Department' is a pretty badass title for an album. I'm assuming you're channeling all your anger and pain into these songs."
You smiled. "Thanks. Would you like to read one of the songs?"
He looked at you, intrigued by your offer. He nodded with a smile and leaned back on the couch, getting comfortable.
"Sure, I'd love to read one of your songs. Bring it on."
You walked towards your handbag, took out a notebook, and opened a page. "This song is called 'My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys.'"
He watched you, eyebrows raised in interest as you mentioned the name of the song.
"'My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys,' huh? Sounds intense. Let me see."
You handed him the notebook. He began reading through the lyrics, a mix of curiosity and admiration on his face. He scanned the page, taking in each word and phrase. The lyrics were raw, emotional, and filled with a sense of pain and resilience. It was clear you had poured your heart and soul into this song.
"Wow, this is beautiful. It's like you're pouring your soul right onto the page. I can feel the pain and anger in your words."
"Thanks. I'm glad you liked it. Actually, you're the first one to read it." You said shyly
He looked up at you, a smile on his face. He was honored that you trusted him enough to share your song with him
"I'm flattered, I feel privileged. You should be proud of your work, darling. It's powerful and sincere. Not many people can make music like this."
You smiled at him "Thanks...really" he held your hand tightly "i would really like to see more." You looked up to his eyes nodded your head.
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adore-laur · 4 months
Note
hmmm maybe dadrry where he pretends to make her jealous but it doesn’t work bc they’re so secure in the relationship they just smirk and tease them, or that yn gets mama bear when she sees other moms hit on harry at school or daycare
——
In a couple of weeks, the preschool your eldest daughter attended was going on a field trip to a petting zoo in Montebello, California. Chaperone sign-up sheets were recently emailed to every parent, and you were debating with Harry about who should be the one to tag along. It wasn't a requirement to be a chaperone, but your worrisome maternal instincts sure made it one.
Harry was lying on the couch, his socked feet dangling over the armrest. You sat normally, your legs bent over his straightened knees, as you stared into space. The conversation kept hitting dead ends, but you were insistent on coming up with a solution as soon as possible. You had enough on your plate to deal with in the weeks ahead.
"Only one of us can chaperone the field trip," you repeated for probably the fourth time that night.
"I'm more than willing to take off work for it," Harry replied, his fingers casually laced over his chest. His eyes were closed since it was nearing ten p.m. and you hadn't been able to make up your mind about which parent should volunteer their time and energy toward the field trip. You had cornered Harry when he went to shut the living room lights off and forced him to sit down before he retreated to bed. It wasn't that you didn't trust him to be a chaperone—he'd definitely handle the controlled chaos that came with supervising a group of kids in an environment full of animals to gawk at. You just considered yourself a more watchful person, but really, it was an excuse to witness your daughter's interactions with her classmates and make sure she was adjusting well to being in school.
"I'm more than willing to as well. So..." You tapped your fingers against the couch cushion. "We need to make a decision right now. Signups are first come, first served."
Harry hummed in acknowledgment. "I can go."
You slowly nodded and said, "Okay. Well, so can I. You know, if you're not able to take off work."
He snorted a laugh and shifted his head, getting more comfortable. He was going to get a crick in his neck if this conversation didn't hurry along.
"What?" you asked, unsure why your reasonability was so amusing to him.
"You're funny."
You tilted your head back against the couch and sighed toward the ceiling. "Harry, I'm trying to get us ahead of the game. Otherwise, neither of us will be able to chaperone, and then our child will be in the care of a random parent."
Your trust in the preschool was substantial, yet a part of you was still cautious about the parents. You hadn't had the chance to build relationships with them since you started working part-time again. Your little girl was a wanderer, and if something caught her attention, she was off and admiring it without notice. Other parents didn't know that about her. What if they didn't pay close enough attention and accidentally let her get lost? The mere thought was why you were determined to claim an open spot as a chaperone.
"You're not making this particularly easy, honey," Harry said lightheartedly, tiredness rasping his voice. "I am actively telling you that I would love to be a chaperone instead of a chef for a day. Getting to pet adorable animals is also a plus."
"Maybe we can write both of our names down," you replied, deep in thought. Half of what Harry had said ricocheted off your brain.
"I don't think that's allowed." He yawned, stretching his arms. "Just put my name down. If work ends up being a problem, I'm sure they wouldn't mind you taking my place."
You contemplated his decision, then asked, "Did you read the chaperone responsibilities list?"
He frowned. "No, but there's time. The email was only sent this morning."
"You have to read it," you said firmly. He needed to be as prepared as possible. This was the first field trip of many, and rules have most likely changed since you were a kid.
In a lull of silence, Harry's hand caressed your ankle. "What are you so anxious about? Talk to me."
You wanted to say everything, but not even someone as wise as Harry could procure a remedy for that. "Nothing," you mumbled. "Just trying to have a solid plan in place."
"Are you worried the moms will be all over me? Pulling me aside and asking me"—Harry paused for dramatic effect—"burning questions?"
You looked over at him, taking in his sly little smirk. He was being like this on purpose. Not to make you jealous, since you were years past that phase—instead, it was a way to distract you from ruminating over minuscule matters.
"I’m not worried at all," you said confidently, flashing him a grin. "Because you know what to do if that happens, right?"
Harry wordlessly lifted his left hand, showing off his gold wedding band snugly fit on his long ring finger. Exactly, you thought to yourself.
"And what if they persist?" he asked, enjoyment clear on his face. You knew he loved this type of banter.
"You show them the picture of me that you keep in your wallet." You leaned toward him. "Then your last resort is calling me and putting whichever mom is flirting with you on the phone."
His teeth bit into his soft bottom lip. "Yes, ma'am."
You crooked your pointer finger, beckoning Harry closer. He sat up with a groan, his face now mere inches from yours. The hypothetical scenario caused misplaced jealousy to surge through your bloodstream, and you had to remind him of some things.
"You're my husband."
Harry traced the tip of his nose along your cheekbone and said, "Loud and proud, baby."
Your breaths became shallowed. "Father of our two children."
"And counting."
You pinched his waist, and he writhed with a heavenly laugh. "You're conventionally attractive, which piques a lot of people's interests. And while it used to bother me in the past, I know that your soul is tethered to mine."
His hands traveled an intimate path up your thighs. "It always has been," he said, his eyes sincere.
"So," you said with finality, your heart racing from his words, "I will let you chaperone the field trip. Because you always come back to me and our family, and I know work has been keeping you away from our girls."
"How do you turn the most mundane thing into a romantic declaration?"
"With you as my muse, it's pretty simple."
Harry moved closer and brushed his lips against yours. "If you keep melting my heart, I'm going to lay you down on this couch and make love to you until the sun rises."
"Risky," you whispered, smiling against his mouth. The kids were asleep down the hall. Any lovemaking would no doubt be interrupted by the baby monitor.
"Tell you what," he said, stealing a hot, deep kiss from you that left you briefly stunned. "This weekend, I'll have my parents take the girls for a day so you and I can love on each other without any distractions. I miss having you all to myself."
"I'm right here," you said, cupping his face. "And I'd appreciate it if you kissed me some more."
"I thought you needed to sign me up as a chaperone."
You kissed him three times in quick succession before saying, "Shut up and make out with me."
"Roger that," Harry murmured, towering over you until your back sank into the couch.
——
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