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corroded-hellfire · 1 month ago

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Forever Young - Eddie Munson x Reader

An As You Wish story

Summary: It’s Eddie’s 40th birthday and when everything else is making him feel old, you aim to show him that he’s still young.

Note: in honor of our birthday boy

Warnings: smut, p in v, unprotected (wrap it up), oral, m! receiving, older!eddie, Eddie still has his breeding kink of course

Words: 2.7k

[As You Wish masterlist]

To say Eddie wasn’t excited about his 40th birthday would be an understatement. The closer it came to the day, the grumpier your husband became. He’d grumble under his breath, the words obviously not meant to be heard by you or the kids; but the sentiment was still conveyed.

Months before his birthday, Eddie made it clear to you that he did not want a party. Although he loved spending time with his friends and loved ones, he had decided that he only wanted to spend this particular day with his family. But just because he would be getting through the day unscathed by in-person jokes and ribbing from the likes of Steve Harrington and Dustin Henderson didn’t mean his own family wasn’t going to tease the patriarch.

“Happy birthday, Dad!” Luke holds a card out to his father. His grin isn’t necessarily mischievous, but it’s smart to always be on guard when it comes to the teenager.

“Thank you.” Eddie takes the indigo envelope from his son and slips the card out. Before his eyes can even take in the bold bubble letters on the front, a pamphlet slips out. Eddie catches it before it can fall to the floor and holds it up to take a proper look.

Hawkins Comfort: The Exceptional Home for Senior Living

The clenching of Eddie’s jaw causes Luke to snicker. Your husband tosses the pamphlet at your son’s face before reading the card itself. Luckily for Luke, the card itself was sweet and didn’t add further insult to injury.

With a heavy sigh, Eddie nods his head and closes the card.

“Thanks,” he reiterates.

“Aw come on, Dad,” Luke says, stepping forward and patting his father on the back. “I’m just messing with you.”

Freshly dressed for the evening out, Eliza zooms into the room, the three-year-old already tickled pink at the thought of having some cake after dinner. She runs into her dad’s legs and wraps her little arms around them.

“Happy birthday!” It’s the fourth time she’s told him this today and he knows it won’t be the last.

“Thank you, baby girl.”

“See?” Luke says, nudging his dad. “You have a baby. You’re not old.”

Eliza’s face goes from gleeful to rueful.

“‘M not a baby!”

“Excuse me, miss.” Luke bows to her before snatching the toddler up into his arms. “I meant to say that Daddy has a young lady for a daughter.”

Placated by that explanation, Eliza nods her head once. “Better.”

As you walk into the living room, a minute later than Eliza due to her rapid speed, Luke gestures to you with one hand while the other one supports his little sister.

“And look! You have a wife who is in her twenties.”

Eddie’s tongue pokes out of the side of his lips, internally trying to decide if that fact makes him feel better or worse. He does have a young, hot wife. But does that make him feel young as well or does he just feel each and every day of those eleven years between the two of you?

“See! Mama is young!” Eliza says.

“Are they ganging up on you, honey?” You playfully pout as you approach your husband’s side.

“Luke’s ready to check me into a nursing home,” he gripes.

“Why you need a nurse?” Eliza asks.

“He doesn’t,” you say before Luke gets a chance to be a wiseass. “Daddy takes care of himself and all of us. Right, Lize?”

“Yeah!”

“Are we ready to go?” Ryan asks, waltzing into the room as he pats his flat stomach. “I’m starving.”

“Didn’t you have a bowl of cereal an hour ago?” you ask.

“Yeah,” Ryan replies. “An hour ago.”

Eddie sighs, remembering the days when he too was a teenager and could inhale food all day and keep that small waist of his. As if able to read his mind, you slip your arm around your husband’s middle and give it a small squeeze.

“Alright gang,” Eddie says, “let’s head out.”

After you all return home, Eliza isn’t nearly as excited about cake as she was before. Her head rests on your shoulder, soft whines coming out of her mouth as you carry her into the house.

“We told you not to eat too much ice cream,” you say.

“Daddy said I could,” she groans.

The restaurant gave Eddie a free ice cream sundae for his birthday and he invited all of you to share it with him. The boys, of course, had room even after finishing off their dinner plates completely. But Eliza’s tiny tummy was already decently full of her noodles before she picked up a giant spoon and started scooping the vanilla dessert into her mouth.

“But you had too much.” You press a kiss to her curls before setting her down on the couch.

Eddie hangs his keys on the hook by the door before coming over and wrapping his arms around you.

“Thank you for a nice dinner, princess.”

You smile up at him and press a kiss to the underside of his jaw.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

“Daddy?” Eliza asks.

“What’s up?”

She pushes herself to sit up straighter and tucks her legs beneath her.

“How old you now?”

He gives her a small smile as he drapes his arm across your shoulders.

“40.”

“Whoa.” Eliza’s eyes widen comically. It’s hard for you to keep your laugh in. “That’s big number. I don’t think we got enough candles for the cake me and Ryan made.”

This time you have to turn your head to the side and hide your smile in Eddie’s armpit.

Thankfully, Ryan is able to assure Eliza that they don’t need to put the whole 40 candles on the cake. With a gaggle of offbeat singing surrounding him, Eddie smiles and closes his eyes to think of a wish. Apparently, he takes too long for his daughter’s liking. She sighs, naturally dramatic as always, and everyone else laughs.

Eddie is able to blow out all the candles in one go and you cut the cake, giving pieces to your two sons who are eyeing the confection with glee. You’re unable to keep from snorting in amusement at their never-ending hunger and you take a seat next to Eddie to eat your own piece. Deciding to power through it, Eliza manages to eat half off a slice before she lays across her dad’s lap, hands holding her once again full belly.

The perk to her being so full is that it’s easier to wrangle her into her pajamas and under her covers. With one last wish of a happy birthday to Eddie, he presses a kiss to her forehead and her eyes begin to flutter closed.

The boys aren’t far behind. Whether or not they’re going to sleep, you’re not sure. But as long as they’re in their rooms you’re happy. Because you have one last surprise for Eddie today.

You come up behind him as he unbuckles his belt and yanks it out of the denim loops on his black jeans. His shirt raises up slightly and you take advantage, slipping your hands beneath the fabric, letting your nails gently scratch over his pale skin. Eddie starts to unzip his pants and you press trailing kisses across his shoulder blade.

“Baby?” Eddie steps forward out of your grasp and turns around to face you. “I’m pretty tired.”

A frown creases your brow. Eddie has every right in the world to be too exhausted to fool around and just want to climb into bed, but you’re not buying that’s really the case right now.

“Okay,” you say softly, stepping forward and gently cupping his face in your hands. “We can just lay down and cuddle if you want. But something tells me you’ve got something on your mind.”

There’s silence for a moment. Then, Eddie sighs and steps backward out of your hands, and takes a seat on the foot of your bed. You move to stand in front of him and gently card your fingers through his bangs resting against his forehead. He rests one hand on your hip and appears deep in thought for a few minutes.

“I just…” he finally says. “I just feel like the older I get the more pronounced our age difference is.”

Your eyebrows shoot up, not expecting that to be what’s on his mind.

“Hey.” Gently, you take his chin between your thumb and forefinger and lift his head so he’s looking you in the eye. “So what?”

Eddie’s brow furrows and he looks at you, skepticism dancing across his face.

“What do you mean ‘so what?’”

“That exactly. So what if you look like you’re forty and I look like I’m twenty-eight? Those are our ages. Just like you looked thirty-two when we got together and I looked twenty. And how in thirty years you’ll look seventy and I’ll look fifty-eight. What does it matter? Do you really think I give a shit what anyone else thinks? The only two people in this marriage are you and me, buddy.” You grab his shoulder and gently shake him back and forth. “I knew how many years apart we were when we got together. When I married you. When I had a baby with you. You think I would’ve stuck around all this time if I had doubts about our age difference? No way, baby. You’re stuck with me. Even when I get gray hair and all.”

A finger absentmindedly brushes against Eddie’s temple as you speak. Your husband stiffens, connecting the dots between your words and where you touched him.

“I have gray hair?” He jumps up and scurries to the full-length mirror in the corner of your room.

“What?” A heavy sigh deflates your body as you realize the conclusion he jumped to. “No, Eddie. You don’t have any gray hair.” His inspection in the mirror bothers you, so you walk forward and manage to squeeze between him and the mirror. “But even if you did, you’d still be the sexiest man I’ve ever met.”

Eddie sighs and rests his forehead against yours.

“I don’t feel forty,” he whispers to you. “I feel like a kid still.”

“Well, you are a big kid,” you tease, managing to pull a small smile out of him. Relieved to see him feeling a bit lighter, you reach up and wrap your arms around his neck. “And besides, I think I’m the last person in the world you have to convince that you’re still young.”

“And why’s that?” he asks.

Giving him a suggestive smirk, you lean in until your lips ghost against his.

“Because,” you whisper, “of how nice and good you fuck me.”

A low groan reverberates from your husband’s chest and he pulls you flush up against his body.

“Yeah?” His voice is dripping in lust. “You like how I make you feel, princess? How hard I pound that tight little pussy of yours?”

“Uh huh,” you whimper before pressing your lips against his.

Eddie’s fingers dig into your hips as you walk him backward towards the bed. When the back of his knees hit the mattress, all it takes is a small push from you to have him falling onto his back. His eyes are dark with need as he watches you tug his open jeans down his legs. The two of you work together as he yanks his shirt off over his head and you tear his boxers off.

As you fall to your knees between Eddie’s thighs, he sits up enough to pull your top off as well. Once you’re free of the offending fabric, you take Eddie’s cock in your hand. You move it up and down slowly, feeling him harden in your grip.

“Fuck,” Eddie growls.

On a swipe down you lean in and press a kiss to the tip. The resulting moan from your husband sends a pleasant shiver down your spine. You pump his cock a few more times before you can’t hold off any longer and have to take him into your mouth.

“Yes,” Eddie hisses.

You run your tongue along the underside of his length, making sure to keep eye contact with him the entire time. The way he watches you with lust-blown eyes and his chest rises and falls in rapid succession with his shallow breaths has you squeezing your thighs together.

You start to bob your head up and down, taking him a little deeper each time. He becomes impossibly harder in your mouth. A large hand gently cups the side of your head and pulls you off of him. The way you whine in protest makes Eddie chuckle darkly.

“Sorry, baby,” he says. “Feels too damn good, though. Need you up here.”

He helps you to your feet and shed the rest of your clothes. Eddie shuffles back towards the pillows, eyes taking in your every movement as you crawl up towards him. When he moves to sit up, you put your hand on his shoulder and push him back down.

“You just lay there,” you coo, lifting one leg to straddle across his thighs. “Rest those old bones and let me take care of you.”

Eddie narrows his eyes, playfully glaring at you and the shit-eating grin on your face.

“Fine,” he challenges. Eddie raises his arms and laces his fingers together behind his head. “Get going.”

He doesn’t need to tell you twice. You line him up with your entrance and slowly lower yourself onto him. The two of you moan in tandem, the feeling of being united insanely pleasurable.

Once you’re fully seated on him, you start to rock your hips back and forth. Eddie squeezes his eyes shut and bites at his bottom lip. His fingers dig at the back of his head, digging into his scalp to keep from caving and grabbing ahold of your body.

Sensing his resolve breaking, you rest your hands on his chest and lean in to speak softly.

“What do you think, Eddie?” you croon. “Want to get me nice and knocked up on your birthday?”

“Shit.”

Your words snap the last bit of restraint he was holding onto and his hands fly to your hips, helping your body move against his.

“Come on, handsome,” you continue through labored breaths, “fill me up with your cum.”

“Jesus Christ.” Eddie huffs a laugh and tilts his head up, staring up at the ceiling. “I’m fucking forty now, I should be able to last longer than this.”

“You forget I know how to push your buttons.”

“Mm?” Eddie looks back down at you, raising an eyebrow as you bounce on his cock. “You mean like this?”

A ringed hand slides between your body and rubs quick circles over your clit.

“Fuck!” You bite down on your lip, attempting to keep your voice low.

“Let’s go, princess. Want you to come with me.”

Unable to respond in any articulate way, you nod your head and hum incoherently. With one hard flick against your clit, the coil in you snaps. Your head falls forward, your jaw hanging open as your high washes over you. The way you clench around Eddie has him following right behind you, the two of you rutting against one another as you ride out your orgasms.

“Holy shit,” Eddie groans as both of your bodies begin to come down.

Suddenly boneless, you flop down against Eddie’s chest and he instinctively wraps an arm around you. He presses a kiss to the top of your head and lets his heavy eyes close.

“I love you so fucking much,” you mumble against his chest, slightly sticky with sweat.

Eddie breathes a chuckle and rubs his hand up and down your back.

“How are you so perfect?” he asks.

Now it’s your turn to laugh.

“I’m going to remind you that you said that next time you get all grumpy over me making fun of your age.”

Before you have time to process his movements, Eddie grips your waist and flips the two of you, smirking down at you as he settles his weight against your body.

“I’ll just have to keep proving how well I can fuck you then,” he says.

You raise your eyebrows at him.

“Is that supposed to discourage me?”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #older!eddie #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #Eddie Munson fanfiction #Eddie Munson fic #Eddie Munson fan fic #Eddie Munson fan fiction #eddie munson imagine #dad!eddie #AYW #AYWS

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covid-safer-hotties · 4 months ago

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Also preserved in our archive

By Niles Niemuth

The Toronto Police Service (TPS) escalated their campaign to crackdown on and suppress protests against the Gaza genocide last week with the announcement of a second arrest in relation to a March 7 protest. In addition to mischief charges which could bring up to 10 years in prison, the two demonstrators are facing charges of “disguise with intent” for wearing medical masks which protect from COVID-19 and other infectious diseases during the protest. This latter “offence” also carries a maximum sentence of a decade in prison.

“While demonstrations may end, investigations into criminal activity continue and we pursue all leads to hold individuals accountable,” Toronto Police Chief Myron Demikw declared in a statement Tuesday on X. He then boasted, “Over the last year we have made 80 demonstration-related arrests and laid 124 charges. Arrests can happen at any time after an offence.”

Tens of thousands in Toronto and across Canada have turned out to protest week after week for more than a year as Israel, with the backing of American imperialism and Ottawa, has carried out its ethnic cleansing operation in Gaza launched in the aftermath of the October 7 uprising led by Hamas. Protesters’ demands that the trade union-backed Liberal Trudeau government press for a ceasefire and stop arming Israel have been rebuffed, with Trudeau and Foreign Minister Mélanie Joly instead smearing protesters opposing genocide as “antisemites.”

Pro-Palestinian protest encampments erected by students, faculty and supporters on campuses across Canada have been broken up by court injunctions and police raids. The deployment of far-right Zionist vigilante groups on campus to provide “security” has been openly encouraged by the federal government, with a new law passed enabling private security firms to access government funding. Groups in line to profit from this funding stream include Magen Herut, whose members must be Zionists and have experience in policing or military service, and Shomrim, an international vigilante group present in Hasidic communities. Magen Herut members have “patrolled” at anti-genocide protests, where they have surveilled and intimidated participants.

Immediately upon Israel’s launch of its genocidal onslaught on Gaza, Canada’s political establishment closed ranks to launch a vicious witchhunt against anyone who spoke out against the mass slaughter. The New Democrats, who were in a confidence-and-supply agreement with the Liberals at the time, threw Member of the Ontario Provincial Parliament Sarah Jama out of their parliamentary caucus because she issued a statement declaring her solidarity with the Palestinians and accusing Israel of apartheid, an accusation supported by the United Nations. Trudeau has repeatedly sought to intimidate protesters by repeating the lies of extreme Zionist forces, including in February when he accused demonstrators of being antisemites merely because they marched past Toronto’s Mount Sinai Hospital.

With the backing of the governments of Liberal Prime Minister Justin Trudeau and Tory Ontario Premier Doug Ford, Demikw and the TPS have launched a far reaching campaign of harassment and arrests of pro-Palestinian protesters under the title “Project Resolute.” The Breach published an investigation in June which revealed the extensive character of the secretive political policing operation, which has included early morning raids, trumped-up charges and efforts to turn protesters into informants.

The police operations have gone hand in hand with the efforts of the political establishment to smear protesters as “antisemitic.” Eleven people were arrested last November in relation to a postering protest against the CEO of Indigo Books, who happens to be Jewish, over her campaign to support the Israel Defense Forces, with the police insinuating that their actions were “hate motivated.”

Demikw and TPS have been carrying out their crackdown in coordination with the RCMP’s Integrated National Security Enforcement Team and the Canadian Security Intelligence Service (CSIS), Canada’s premier spy agency.

Faisal Ibrahim, 38, was arrested and charged on October 19 with one count of mischief, interfering with property and a count of disguise with intent in relation to the March 7 protest. A research assistant and teaching assistant at the University of Toronto, Ibrahim had been targeted by Zionist social media pages for his pro-Palestinian activism before being charged by TPS.

Rachelle Friesen, 38, of the Student Christian Movement of Canada and Community Peacemaker Teams, was charged on October 1 with two counts of mischief that obstructs, interrupts or interferes with the lawful use, enjoyment or operation of property and one count of disguise with intent in relation to pro-Palestinian protests on November 13, 2023 and March 7, 2024.

After living in Israel for five years, including four as Peace Program Coordinator with the Mennonite Central Committee, Friesen was deported from the country in 2014 and banned for 10 years for her advocacy on behalf of the Palestinians.

Protesters interrupted the Scotiabank Giller Prize gala at the Four Seasons Hotel in Yorkville on November 13, 2023 to protest the bank’s complicity in the Gaza genocide. Evan Curle and Maysam Abu Khreibeh, both 25, and Fatima Hussain, 23, were charged at the time with obstructing, interrupting, or interfering with the lawful use, enjoyment or operation of property and using a forged document.

March 7, meanwhile, was a day of action by students and others protesting RBC and calling for the bank to divest from support for Israel, respect Indigenous sovereignty and end financing for the Trans Mountain Expansion and Coastal Gas Link pipelines.

The police claim that both Friesen and Ibrahim “wore medical masks to conceal their identity” during a March 7 protest in Midtown Toronto and that their participation prevented an employee from entering her workplace and forced her to leave the area in fear of her safety.

In another recent effort to suppress the protests, the Trudeau government in coordination with the Biden administration in the United States banned the Samidoun Palestinian Prisoner Solidarity Network as a “terrorist entity” and placed sanctions on activist Khaled Barakat.

Samidoun has organized protests in opposition to the Gaza genocide across Canada. Its international coordinator Charlotte Kates was arrested in April in Vancouver following a speech in which she led the crowd in a chant of “Long live October 7th” and advocated for the delisting of Hamas, Islamic Jihad, Hezbollah and other groups as terrorist organizations. The organization’s listing as a terrorist entity resulted in its bank accounts being frozen and make it difficult for members to travel internationally.

The unanimous endorsement of Israel’s genocide within the political establishment has introduced a climate of fear and censorship into Canadian cultural life. In the latest example of this, the Aurora Cultural Center north of Toronto closed down an exhibit titled Expressions of Critical Thought after one day this month due to complaints of “antisemitism” on social media because some of the works on display referenced Palestine. The Center told the artists in an October 4 email that the show was being censored due to “concerns raised by members of our community regarding the traumatic responses to some of the artworks.”

“I feel what they did contributes to the consistent dehumanization of Arabs in general,” Iraqi-Canadian artist Hala Alsalman told Hyperallergic. “I’m the only Arab who was showing, but obviously it’s not just me, it’s all of us.” Chantal Hassard, a co-curator of the show and grandchild of Holocaust survivors, noted that there was nothing antisemitic about the art on display and the claims were a “dangerous mischaracterization of the term.”

#Anti-arab hate #islamophobia #canada #mask ban #stop mask ban #stop mask bans #mask up #covid #pandemic #public health #wear a mask #covid 19 #wear a respirator #still coviding #coronavirus #sars cov 2 #palestine #free palestine

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hiro-doodlez · 8 months ago

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MASS ARTFIGHT ATTACK!!!!!!!!!!!! GRAHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!

This took so long but IT WAS FUN SO WHO CARES (my wrist does)

characters and owners under cut LOL!!

Faerie- @borisboring

MCPJ- @shynetyme06

Sticker- @stars-and-wish-fulfillment

Splatter 1- @sketchingstars03

Juno- @starmonsterrr

Indigo- @my-names-kris

Dessucate- @twinribbonz

Mosquito- @switchthedragon

Sandee- @sandeewithtwoe

Star- @squidthechaotickid

Moonjelly- @queersharky

Bubblegum- @squidling2005 / @moccasins

Starbug- @starswirly

Cupcake- @pixxypop

Go- @rawrlands

Nostolgia- @zity015

Thriller- @ashenoranges

Waz- @carol-shine

Eleven- @/mivian on DA, TH,AND AF. Mivianart on twitter!!!

Sweettooth- @/firesetter on AF, @/undernovela on twitter, and @/errorsans on TH

Fresh!dream- @/songbirdd on AF

Devout- @cloudtaleblog

Splatter 2- @frannstrash

Astrx- @scramble-eg

GOROAGAHH THATS ALL OF THEM!!! I THINK!!!!!! SORRY FOR THE PINGS

Aaahhhh im so so tired LOL

#undertale au #undertale #utmv #hiros art #art fight

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ddarker-dreams · 2 years ago

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Redamancy.

Yan Scaramouche x F Reader.

Warnings: Yandere themes and unhealthy relationships. Word count: 1k.

“You scowl too much.”

If anyone else were to speak to Scaramouche, Sixth of the Eleven Fatui Harbinger in this way, they’d certainly be reduced to a pitiful pile of ash on the ground. Perhaps he’s thought about subjecting you to this fate, once or twice. That number could very well have been bumped up to three times if the indignant air he currently regards you with is to be considered.

Then again, no one aside from you would get to experience this deceptively domestic scene. You sit beneath a canopy, branches free from winter’s thaw hastily preparing buds to herald in spring. Scaramouche holds your thighs captive, the soft flesh serving as his pillow. Indigo locks splay out against and tickle your skin.

“There’s a lot to scowl about,” he replies, though he makes an effort to relax his tense facial muscles. The contemptuous smile he gives makes his previous expression look benevolent in comparison. “I’m stuck dealing with a fool of a woman who’d probably wander off a cliff because she was too busy admiring the clouds.”

“Clouds are meant to be admired.”

“Case in point.”

“You make it sound like I’m chained to you with iron shackles, though,” you raise your ankle (notably shackle free, imagine that), drawing his attention and ire. Your sarcasm never fails to rile him up. He never seriously tries to put a stop to it, however. Such is his capricious nature. “If I’m such a bother, why not let me wander off the cliff?”

Scaramouche grits his teeth. “Because…”

There’s a pause, then, weighty and tangible. You know what he both wants and fears to say. If he were any less of a coward, he’d fill the aromatic air with truth, rather than engaging in his usual sidestepping. He’s so proficient at the act you swear he could moonlight as a crab. This mental image earns a barely contained giggle from you, one that further sours his mood, if such a thing were possible.

Knowing you as intimately as he does, he correctly assumes that he’s the unwitting source of your amusement.

“I can’t stand you,” he grumbles. Whether it’s to you or himself, you can’t decide. “Truly, I can't.”

“Then hand me over to someone who can.”

There’s a flash in his eyes then — otherworldly, malicious — he disregards composure like a snake abandons shed skin. He rises in a flash. Inhumanly cold fingers take your chin captive, bringing you closer to him, his delight in the ease with which he can manhandle you evident. Always the type to go for grand gestures, this one. His theatrical outbursts befit his moniker.

Scaramouche grins, beset with an onslaught of bitterness akin to a black hole. It draws in and swallows anything unfortunate enough to be nearby.

“You just love testing my patience, don’t you?”

If you feared him, maybe you’d tremble, but you don’t, so you are still. It’s likely that you should fear him. He is volatile, a mess of contradictions too complicated to untangle, a vessel who fills himself with acrimony, the same way humans must with air. He delights in it and considers it his birthright.

Your smile is not without kindness and that’s what bothers him most.

“Come, don’t pout. I have no intentions of being complicit in whatever havoc you'd wreak if I was with another.”

His eye twitches at the pesky word ‘another’. The mere thought of this faceless, nonexistent being having the audacity to lay claim to you, even in the land of fantasy, has his nostrils flaring and jaw tightening. You can see the ripple of muscles beneath his synthetic skin. He’s a wonder, this proprietorial doll, who can exalt and condemn you in the same breath.

You are mine, and mine alone, his eyes seem to scream, and I’d sooner end the world than exist in it without having you for myself.

“You really do scowl too much,” you reiterate your opinion from earlier, gently, almost sweetly. Whatever spell Scaramouche was under temporarily breaks, or perhaps he’s held prisoner to a new one, far more agreeable if not equally dangerous. “Your face is too pretty to always be frowning.”

You enchant him by running your finger over his lower lip. It trembles by your command. His eyes go lidded, a lovelorn haze obscuring the former tempest. He can never decide if he wants to destroy or devour you. For someone like him, he can’t do one without the other. His love for you is a death sentence, despite the immortality that should’ve never belonged to your mortal body.

It’s you who kisses him.

He temporarily forgets himself. The arrogance, the hurt, the fear that you might slip between his fingers should he ever relax his hold. You find him foolish in that regard. He can have you in the palm of his hand if he likes, and you know he’d like that very much. There’s nowhere else for you to be. Not when he’s seen to the fact himself.

Scaramouche melts into your person, returning your kiss with rapture, drunk on the way you offer yourself to him. He makes a deep, breathy noise, willing you closer, demanding total subservience. You let him have his way. Civilizations could rise and fall in the seconds that follow, and he’d pay them no mind, too absorbed with savoring your temporary connection.

It is what he lives for; what he'd kill for.

His fair skin is flushed when you part. From the apple of his cheeks to the tip of his ears, he’s painted in a color from your palette. The pigmentation suits him. Red is the color around his eyes, of his longing for you, and of what would spill across the land should you ever part.

“There,” you whisper, as if it were a secret meant for him alone, “That look suits you far better.”

He wants to deny it — you can tell by how his grip tightens — but he remains uncharacteristically quiet. If he gets to delight in you, it’s only fair that you can occasionally delight in him, he supposes.

Such is your capricious nature.

#i wanna chew on him #yandere scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x reader #yandere genshin impact x raeder #yandere genshin impact x reader #scaramouche brainrot #genshin impact x reader #yandere x reader #yandere #reader insert #my stuff

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sweetbonniebel · 7 months ago

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Jaes's hen jēdar

God's of the sky

Eleven

Daemon x reader

Synopsis: Laenor’s funereal, politics. Alicent being a bad mom, Viserys being a idiot. Talk of Rhaenyra having more power.

Note: If you wish to be added to the taglist, comment. Greatly appreciate it.

Masterlist <-previous , next->

122 AC Driftmark

Five dragons left Bloodstone for Driftmark. Another funureal of a Velaryon. Baelon sat in front of Daemon, strapped by leather belts. Vhaenor was in Aegon's saddle and Aerion was held by you.

Vermithor the largest of the beasts flew ahead. Your youngest slept soundly strapped to your chest with cotton wraps. Occasionally involuntary moving in the swaddle.

You felt sorry for Rhaenyra, not only did she loose Harwin not long ago now her husband has perished. And what of Jace, Luke and Joffrey.

You heard the familiar screeches of Caraxes and the warmth of dragon fire, you glanced upwards to see the blood wyrm, Sunfyre and Moondancer chasing each other.

Rhaenys and Corlys looked awful, they lost all of their children in the span of four years.

Your favourite cousin looks bad clad in black, but that colour seemed to follow her. You wrapped your arms around Rhaenys, offering her your comforts.

"I am so sorry, Rhaenys, Corlys." You said taking Rhaenys's hands in yours.

"Thank you, cousin." The Queen who never was answered.

"We are glad you could make it." She forced a facade of confidence.

"It is all right, you do not need to fake being nice. You just lost your son, I would except you to scream, cry and rage."

"I have done my fair share of mourning already, Laena and now Laenor." She whispered, tears prickling her waterline.

"Whatever you need we and the Stepstones are at your disposal." You offered.

"Thank you, y/n." Corlys answered placing his palm on your shoulder, squeezing thankfully.

You returned to your family at the side of the cliffs, on the other side closer to the casket stood Rhaenyra and her three boys.

"Mama." Vhaenor tugged at your black mourning skirt.

"What is it?" You questioned leaning to his level.

"I'm sad." He muttered shyly, you smiled sadly at him. "I don't like it."

"Oh sweet boy, it is normal to feel sad sometimes. Especially when a member of your family passed. But soon you will feel better, the feeling will pass." You tried to console the two year old

"It will?" He hopefully asked.

"I'm sure of it."

Laenor's sea stone casket was being wrapped with ropes, soldiers of house Velaryon prepared to lower it into the salty sea.

You saw tears escape Rhaenya's and Laenor's children, the three boys wore teal doublets adorned with silver seahorses and black trousers. Jacaerys looked the most like his grandmother, Rhaenys with dark hair and indigo eyes.

Lucerys was most like his mother, silver-gold hair and blue eyes, while Joffrey named by Laenor was most like his father, curly dark hair with silver streaks and violet eyes but his face was entirely Laenor.

Your children with Daemon on the other hand were of typical Valyrian beauty. Baelon had silver hair and bright violet eyes, his eye and nose shape were just like Daemon's. Vhaenor was your spitting image with your red eyes and face shape.

Aerion was most like his grandmother Alyssa, Daemon said so. You never met your father's first wife but from what your brothers said, Aerion was very much like Alyssa.

You wondered what will Rhaenyra do now, her husband has perished, she has three children but she is still young. The realm will expect her to marry again.

You took your children by their hands and walked over to where the realm’s delight was standing. You stared solemnly at Rhaenyra, you placed a hand on her cheek and brought the princess into a warm embrace. No words exchanged but that was fine, none were needed.

The three boys standing around Rhaenyra on the other hand, looked at you with muted curiosity.

„Jace, Luke, Joff this is your aunt Princess y/n.” Rhaenyra introduced, you kneeled next to the boys.

„I’m sure you do not remember me, but we have met a few times before.” You said placing your palm on Jace’s rosy cheek.

„Good morrow, princess.” Jace shyly answered.

„You can call me aunt, Jace.” The dark haired boy nodded his head sheepishly.

„I would like to introduce your cousins to you.” You slightly pushed Baelon and Vhaenor in front of the three Velaryons.

The eldest of your princelings slightly bowed his head at them.

„I’m Baelon.” He introduced himself „This is my brother Vhaenor, and the babe is Aerion.”

„I’m Jacaerys this is Lucerys and Joffrey.” You watched as the two boys interacted.

„How are you faring?” You questioned Rhaenyra leaving your sons to themselves.

„It is not as hard as I thought it will be. I did love him, but it was more of a brotherly love. I’m thankful for the children we have…” She told you her thoughts and you listened intently. „I’m glad we left for Dragonstone when we did, I do not think I could have endured more of that vipers den. And Laenor, gods save him. He was a good father but not much more than that.”

You slightly chuckled as you talked in a secluded area.

„Do you think you’ll remarry?” You suddenly questioned.

„I have a lover I am very close to… But I do not want to marry so soon. I wish to experience more freedom.” She answered smoothing her black gown with teal accents.

„A lover you say?” You curiously asked, you saw as a blush spread on Rhaenyra’s pale face.

„He is a noble man from Lys.”

„Lys?”

„Darys Ormollen.” She said without beating around the bush.

„You do not mean… Aunt Saera’s son.” You remembered the name you heard in passing conversation. The heir only nodded. „How did you come to meet our cousin?”

„It is a long story.”

„I would love to hear it some day, and meet him. Perhaps we could even invite aunt Saera to the Stepstones.”

„I don’t think she will accept but you can always try.”

„It is important for our family to be together. Besides I didn’t even know she was married for a long time, Jaehaerys told me of Saera a few times but nothing of her life outside of the Seven Kingdoms.”

The funereal procession started. The heads of house Celtigar, Massey, Darklyn and Bar Emmom were present. Corlys’s brother Aethan, delivered the eulogy. You watched with Rhaenyra your children and Daemon as Laenor’s casket was lowered into the sea. The same way Laena’s was four years ago. Baelon and Vhaenor were standing next to their cousins. Aerion was in your arms and Joffrey was in Rhaenyra’s.

„May the winds guide into the the afterlife, nephew.” Aethan recited „For our words are the old, the true, the brave. You may not have been old, but you were true and brave.”

You saw tears stain Jacaerys’s and Lucerys’s cheeks, your palms rested on their shoulders. With the back of your palm you wiped their tears.

…

You watched as Viserys stumbled down the cliffs with Alicent and Otto by his side. Helaena and Aemond following after them. You approached his grace with Daemon and your children.

„Your grace.” You bowed before your sickly brother.

„Oh, y/n.” He wheezed „You certainly are a sight for sore eyes.” He placed his boney palm on your cheek.

„Brother, you do not look well. Are the maesters treating you well? If you wish I can call upon my healers from Essos.” You offered putting your hand over his.

„The maesters are taking great care of his grace. They do best they can.” Alicent butted in.

��Perhaps their best isn’t enough.” Your husband snipped staring with wide eyes at his brother’s worsening condition.

„Hush now husband I am sure the maesters are… healing our brother to the best of their abilities. Even if they are not enough.”

„And your children, your highness?” Otto muttered chanting the subject „Happy news reached King’s Ladning that new dragons hatched.”

„Yes, lord hand. Five dragons indeed hatched.”

„And since when are you interested in dragon, Otto? I remember you said they are an abomination to your gods.” Daemon carelessly said. You tried to surpress a chuckle. Viserys through his hazines glanced disappointed at Otto.

„Speaking of children, your graces we must return to them.”

„And where is Aegon? He has not come greet me or his lord father.” Alicent questioned accusatory.

„Aegon is with his cousins.” Your brother answered for you.

„So you saddle him with taking care of babes, now?” The green Queen made a snide comment.

„Oh not at all, your grace. He is simply offering his comforts to Baela and Rhaena. After all they just lost and uncle.” You intertwined your arm with Daemon.

„I see.” She only muttered and the two of you left, returning to your children’s side.

„Have you seen him? He looks like the stranger is eating him alive.” You whispered to Daemon, he nodded and squeezed you hand reassuringly.

„The greens are ordering the maesters to be worsening his condition.”

„We need our healers to take a look at him.”

„And what if they don’t do anything?”

You stayed quiet, consumed by thoughts on how to turn this situation in your favor.

„What are you thinking of?”

„Do you remember when our grandsire named father his hand when he was too sick to rule?”

„You do not think..?”

You nodded at your brother.

„Viserys is sick, the greens control the throne. Rhaenyra is his heir, she should become her fathers regent and wear his crown.”

The two children of Baelon the brave stared at Rhaenyra from afar. She and her children stood alone amongs the cliffs and salty sea.

„It could work, but Otto is still hand. He will go against this, the council will side with him.” Daemon noticed, caressing your hand affectionately.

„Then we have to think of a way to find new members of the small council, those who will be unwaveringly loyal to ’Nyra. And us of course. Still we have to get rid of Otto somehow, name a new hand.”

„Corlys…He hates the greens as much as we do. His house is the richest in the seven kingdoms. He is old and experienced.”

Your eyes widened surprised.

„You would not want to be hand? I know you pestered Viserys for that position.”

„I used to, but we would have to move to King’s Landing. I do not want to leave the Stepstones, I do not want our children to be raised there. At least on Bloodstone we are the rulers of our own lives, Baela and Rhaena are happy there and so is Aegon.”

„You have changed.” You stated, a warm feeling spread in your insides.

„Does my wife, enjoy it?” He teasingly questioned placing his large palms on your waist.

„Very much so.” You smiled leaning into his warm embrace.

„Your highness.” Annora approached the two of you with Aerion in her arms. He was fussing, you could see tears stain his chubby cheeks. „I’m sorry but he could not stop crying.”

„It is fine, thank you.” You answered taking Aerion, he will be turning one soon.

„You coddle him.” Daemon stated taking him from your arms and into his. You could see that he started to wiggle in discomfort.

„Maybe he’s hungry.” You said feeling your sore breasts.

„No, he is spoilt. You always hold him, you didn’t do that with Baelon or Vhaenor.”

„It’s just… he’s so small.”

„He’s healthy, my love. He’ll be fine without your embrace for a while.” Your husband answered keeping Aerion in his arms.

You walked with Daemon through castle Driftmark. A dreary seat, even more than Dragonstone. Your children were taken to a spare nursery, that left you and Daemon in your temporary chambers.

You sighed and begun to unlace the black mourning dress with silver accents.

„Do you need help?” Daemon approached you from behind, without and answer he began to unlace the bodice and dress.

„I need to change into something more comfortable.” You announced „This dress squeezes my breasts and I cannot take it anymore.”

„Perhaps you are due to a visit to the tailor?” Daemon muttered sliding the fabric off your body. You raised your silver eyebrow.

„Are you saying I’m too fat for my dresses?”

„No, your tits are too big to fit in that dress. Although I do like to see them spill out of your cleavage. Perhaps I was wrong to mention a tailor.” Your husband teased caressing the side of your breast with his thumb.

„I wasn’t so big after Vhaenor…” You stated staring at yourself in the mirror.

„You aren’t big, y/n.”

„Do you want more children?” You questioned turning to face Daemon, dressed in cotton underdress.

„I want as many children as you will give me.” He leaned against your forehead.

„A girl, then.”

„A girl?” Daemon pressed a kiss to your neck, his hands roamed over your body. „As you wish, wife.”

…

You slept comfortably tangled in Daemon’s arms, the bed was not as comfortable as the one you shared on Bloodstone. A knock stirred you out of sleep, you tried to ignore the sound but it was persistent. You groaned and wrapped your body in a silver robe and opened the door.

„Aegon? What has happened so early?” You questioned leaning on the door frame.

„His grace invited you and your family to break fast together.” He nervously said.

„Now?”

„In an hour or so.”

„Why are you telling me this? You are not a servant.”

„I’m… What if they order me to return with them?” You sighed at his broken heart expression, you wrapped him in your arms and caressed his messy silver gold hair.

„I will fight to keep you with me.” You answers pressing a kiss to his temple.

„Promise?”

„I promise. Now go back to your chambers and dress, preferably in black it is a funeral after all.”

He nodded and skipped off to your chambers, you sighed and pressed your hand against your forehead. It was too early for political warfare, you felt tired and a bit sore from the strenuous activities of the night before.

You walked over to the bed where your husband laid, his naked back spread comfortably over the bed.

„Daemon.” You nudged him, he groaned and turned away from you, you chuckled and sat on his abdomen keeping him in place. „Daemon.” You whispered into his ear.

„hmm?” He murmured waking from sleep.

„We are invited to break fast with our brother.”

„How do you expect me to leave when I have you on top of me?” He cheekily said, your cheeks warmed and you felt him growing hard under you.

„We do not have time…” You whispered.

…

Your black dress with embroidered red dragon’s breath swayed with your movement. The long sleeves of the dress were in Baelon’s clutches as he walked next to you unsure. He did not like castle Driftmark nor did he like the sea.

„Your highness.” Ser Erryk and Arryk Cargyll bowed as they guarded the King’s chambers.

„Sers.” You answered and entered your brothers room with your family.

Viserys barely lucid sat at a round table in the corner of the room, a weird smelling incense was burning in the chambers.

You kissed his healthier cheek and took a place on his right, Daemon to his left.

„Where is Alicent and the children?” You questioned.

„It will be just us, my siblings.” He wheezed back, motioning for the servant to bring the food.

„What is that smell?” Daemon asked sniffing the air.

„Oh it is- it is an ailment the maesters prescribed.” Your brother answered breathlessly, you nodded at Daemon to put out the poison and open the windows.

„I’m afraid it’s making the children a bit queasy, you do not mind if we open the windows?” You took Viserys’s hand in yours. He simply nodded and glanced at your eldest, Baelon.

„And how are you, my nephew?” Viserys asked, the two boys looked at him unsure. Aerion stayed in the nursery.

„I’m well, your grace.” The four year old answered playing with the hem of his doublet under the table.

„There is…no need to call me your grace. I am your uncle you may adres me as such.” Your brother said, you smiled seeing the love he held for his family. „I heard you have a dragon.”

„Yes! I call him Aegarax, he’s brave like Darren!” Baelon exclaimed happy to talk about his hatchling, simply forgetting the uneasiness he felt before.

„You named him right, Baelon a strong name.” He turned to you.

„Thank you, I do not remember our father but the stories grandsire told me of him makes me feel as if I did get to know him.”

„And where is the babe?” He questioned.

„In his nursery.” Daemon answered.

„Viserys… do you think it well to name a regent?” You gently coaxed him into the new topic.

„Regent? Otto is my hand, he does well in my absence.” His grace wheezed.

„And how often does he rule in your absence. I’ve been hearing that he sits the throne every day.” Daemon a bit more harsh added.

„My sickness keeps me abed most days, yes.”

„Even the greatest Kings get sick or old and they need help. Their family’s help. Remember Jaehaerys? He named Baelon his hand and regent.”

„Yes, father was an excellent hand despite his short time serving the role.” Viserys agreed. You noticed that once the incense cleared your brother seemed to get a bit better. More lucid.

„Rhaenyra is your heir, you should let her take more responsibility. She is after all the future Queen.”

Viserys pondered for a moment, he glanced at you then at Daemon.

„Perhaps you are right…” He admitted. „I will have to talk with the council of this change.”

You sent a small smile in your husbands direction, he returned the gesture smugly. The Hightowers have controlled the throne far too long, as true dragons it was your duty to stop their rule.

The bigger problem however was Alicent Hightower, you couldn't dismiss a Queen as easily as a Hand. You knew Viserys never loved her, he may hold some affection for her but it couldn't compare to the feelings he held for Aemma.

"Have you thought of Aegon returning to King's Landing?" You suddenly asked, your brother raised his eyebrow. It is as if he just remembered he has a son.

"Oh yes... Aegon."

"He's turning into a man soon, brother." Daemon added.

"I suppose he is... what is the issue then?"

"Aegon doesn't want to return to the Red Keep." You stated matter of factly.

"Why wouldn't he? His siblings and mother are there." He said unaware.

"That castle is a viper's den, it is no surprise a boy of only five and ten wouldn't want to stay there. After he was raised for over a decade in a loving home."

"Alicent is his mother it is her choice in the end."

"You are the King, Viserys. I'm sure it wouldn't be out of the ordinary for you to have the last say. I'm sure Aegon would be thankful." You stated

"I..." He wheezed "Bring him." He ordered.

Aegon dressed in a black doublet and trousers, the cape on his shoulders was of a deep crimson.

"Your grace." He bowed his head slightly at his sitting father "Aunt, Uncle."

"Aegon, sit." He ordered, the boy took a seat next to his little cousins. You smiled symphatically at Aegon as he uncomfortably cowered under Viserys's gaze. "I have heard you wish to stay with your aunt and uncle, is this true?"

"...Yes, father." He nodded unsure.

"I see no reason to-" Viserys was cut off in the middle of the sentence, the doors opened and Alicent stepped in the chambers. Her dark green dress flowing after he movements.

"Husband, son. Princess y/n, Prince Daemon." She was out of breath as she acknowledged your presence.

"Alicent." Viserys wheezed "What are you doing here? I... I didn't call for you."

"I came to see my son." Aegon tensed at his mothers words.

"We have just been talking of extending his wardship." Viserys answered and in that moment you wanted to commit treason and strangle your brother for his idiocy.

"What?" She asked in disbelief.

"I wish to stay with my aunt and uncle, your grace." Aegon meekly said.

"That is out of the question. Your wardship has come to an end, there is no reason for you to stay on that rock any longer."

"Lady Mother-" He wanted to speak but Alicent silenced him with a flick of her wrist.

"And you would allow this?" She glared at Viserys "For them to take away my son from me? Again?"

"I am not taken away anywhere, I want to remain with my cousins and aunt." Aegon explained but Alicent ignored his pleas.

"Aegon..." You whispered to the boy who had tears in his eyes.

"Don't you see Viserys! She has raised my son! Poisoned him against me, and his family!"

"Alicent! Mind your tongue. My sister has done and admirable job at raising Aegon, you should be thanking her instead of spitting such vile accusations." Viserys said angrily glaring at his Hightower wife. "If it is Aegon's wish to remain in the stepsons he may do so until his eight and tenth birthday when he shall return to King's Landing."

"My King-" Alicent tried to speak.

"My decision is final, Alicent."

King Viserys's health has deteriorated over the years making him incapable of sitting the throne. He named his heir Princess Rhaenyra regent until he would be able to rule once more. Many believe that is is Princess y/n and Prince Daemon's doing for the realm delight to sit the throne. - From the dragon bringer by the feather and quill of Grand Maester Roland.

Taglist:

@nessjo

#aegon ii targaryen #aemond targaryen #alicent hightower #house of the dragon #house targaryen #hotd x reader #hotd #daemon targeryan #viserys targaryen #daemon x reader #rhaenyra targeryan #rhaenyra x reader

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twothpaste · 2 years ago

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working on fic illustrations but posting the art early cuz it's nice 😌⛵

#blue/indigo monochrome challenge #gonna learn to git gud with cool colors even if it kills me!!!!#2thpaints #osha's eleven

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moons-and-mobility-aids · 3 months ago

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Content Warnings: Adult content, mostly accurate depictions of being an onlyfans creator (hi, I am one), reader is fem, uses a wheelchair, and has cerebral palsy. Taglist: @alohastitch0626, @jspidey5, @laceandsuch, @kneelforloki

The sun is gentle on your skin—not too hot, not too cold, but just right, like a soft embrace. The rhythm of the waves rolling off in the distance is soothing, and for the first time in weeks, you feel your body truly relax. It's a rare sensation, one that you try to soak in as much as possible.

You haven't been to the beach in ages, and this trip was a last-minute idea. After a week of battling fatigue and pain, you needed a change—the smell of the ocean air, the feel of sand between your toes, the expanse of open sky. It's the perfect escape from the never-ending demands of content creation and the relentless ping of incoming messages.

There aren't many people around, which is surprising given your proximity to the only ramp designed for wheelchairs and strollers. But the solitude is welcome, allowing you to enjoy the peace without feeling like you need to perform for an audience. It's just you, the vast ocean, and the occasional seagull passing by. As you sit there, letting the warmth of the sand seep into your bones, a thought crosses your mind.

A few days have passed since you returned from your brief hiatus, and though you haven't posted anything new on OnlyFans—your fans are being sustained by the scheduled content—you know they would welcome something a little more spontaneous, something that allows them to see a side of you that isn't always on display. And when do you feel this good, this free of pain? Why not capture the moment and show your subscribers that life isn't just about overcoming struggles, but also about embracing moments of joy?

You reach for your phone, tucked away in the safety of your beach bag, and unlock it with a swipe of your thumb. The camera app opens to a view of your sun-kissed skin, looking smoother than ever under the gentle glow of daylight. You're wearing a simple bikini, nothing too flashy or suggestive, just enough to accentuate the curves you've worked hard for.

The photos you take aren't overly posed or attention-seeking—they're snapshots of peace, of contentment found in solitude. You angle the phone just right, capturing the length of your legs stretched out before you, sand sticking to the sheen of sunscreen while the indigo waves kiss the shore behind. A second photo focuses on your torso, the bikini top hinting at the shape beneath without revealing too much. It's all about suggestion, not exhibition.

Satisfied with the images, you switch apps and tap open OnlyFans, the familiar icon signalling a space where you control the narrative, where you decide what to reveal and what to keep hidden. Your subscribers relish these glimpses into your everyday life, finding intrigue in the mundane made intimate. The beach setting is a departure from your bedroom backdrop, from the soft glow of your ring light that usually bathes your videos in flattering warmth.

Caption: Beach day 🌊☀️ Taking some time for myself and thought I’d share this little moment with you all. Hope you’re enjoying your day as much as I am! 💖

Your thumb hovers over the "post" button before pressing down, a flicker of excitement kindling in your chest as the photos upload. It's a departure from your carefully curated feed—a moment of unscripted joy that feels both intimate and invigorating. Your followers will love it.

With a satisfied sigh, you let the phone slip from your grasp, the screen's glow fading against the backdrop of sun-drenched sand. A sense of tranquillity settles over you, nurtured by the rhythmic pulse of the ocean nearby. It's a rare respite from the demands of stardom, a chance to simply be rather than perform.

Minutes turn into a languid hour. The phone vibrates softly against your calf, but you don't reach for it. Not yet. The world can wait. Right now, the sun's touch is more real than any notification.

Eventually, curiosity nudges at your relaxed mind, and you sit up, brushing sand from your legs. Picking up the phone, the screen illuminates with a flurry of notifications—your followers have been busy.

Scanning the comments, you see the usual mix. Compliments on your appearance, expressions of envy at your day on the beach, wishes that they could join you. A smile tugs at your lips, not just at their words, but at the sense of connection they bring. You crafted this community from nothing, and their loyalty is a balm to your soul.

One name catches your eye: Prongs. It's not surprising to see him here—he's always quick to interact with your posts—but there’s a small thrill each time you spot his username. His comments often carry an edge of flirtation that never fails to amuse you.

ProngsPlayground_free: Beach day, huh? 😏 You look amazing. Hope you’re soaking up some of that sun for us too. 💖

You can't help but smile at his comment. There's something about the way Prongs flirts that always makes you happy—it's fun but respectful, never crossing any lines. You've had plenty of subscribers who pushed boundaries, but he's always been different. There's a sense of fun in your interactions, and you look forward to his messages.

It's not just Prongs, though. You know Moony and Padfoot are there too, watching your content with just as much interest. You think about them now, imagining the three of them seeing this picture of you on the beach and how they might react. It's funny how they've become a little group in your mind, and you think of them as a team now.

Your fingers tap out a response, the playful banter coming as easily to you as breathing.

You: Thanks, Prongs! 😘 Wish you guys could be here too—bet you’d love the view. 😉

The message sent, you lower your phone onto your lap, a sense of contentment washing over you. You don't know these people in real life, but they've become a part of your world in their own special way. As you watch the waves roll in, you can almost imagine them on the other side of the screen, faces lighting up as they read your message, huddled together in shared camaraderie.

A soft sigh escapes your lips as you lean back into the sand, letting the warmth seep into your body. The rhythmic lullaby of the ocean fills your ears, drowning out the distant chatter of beachgoers. This has always been your sanctuary, a place where you can shed the weight of expectations and simply exist.

But even here, you're not wholly free. Not when thoughts of them refuse to be quieted.

Their names have resonated within you from the moment they subscribed to your page. An inexplicable pull, growing stronger with each passing day, each shared message. You remember watching their own post, feeling something akin to fascination stir within you as you listened to their voices—rich, velvety layers of sound that brushed against your senses like physical touches, leaving trails of goosebumps in their wake.

It's an anomaly, this interest you've developed. You've always prided yourself on being professional, maintaining clear boundaries between the men who subscribe to your content and your own personal life. But with Prongs, Moony, and Padfoot, those lines are blurred. There's something about them, something different that beckons you closer even as you remind yourself of the need for distance.

You glance down once more at your phone, the screen lighting up with a new notification. A direct message waits for you, its contents unknown. You tap on the icon, a small smile tugging at your lips in anticipation.

ProngsPlayground_free: That view, though... 🔥 We're all distracted now. We should be editing, but I think we need a break after seeing that. Even Moony is a bit distracted, and he's usually the sensible one. 😏 - Padfoot

A soft chuckle escapes your lips as you read the message, shaking your head slightly. The thought of them being thrown off their game because of you sends a small thrill through you.

Your fingers fly across the screen, crafting a response that matches the playful banter you've come to enjoy with them. It's flirty yet casual, the perfect blend of familiarity and charm that has become your signature move.

You: Taking a break, huh? I can't blame you—it's tough to focus with a beach in the picture. 😉 But don't get into too much trouble. 😘

The message sends, and you put your phone back down, letting out a content sigh as you watch the waves crash on the shore. The sun is beginning to set, casting a warm orange glow over everything, and the breeze that brushes against your skin is just the right balance of cool and comforting. It's one of those moments that make you wish you could stop time, a peaceful respite from the usual whirlwind of your life.

But even as you try to absorb the tranquility around you, your thoughts keep circling back to the boys—to their messages and how they've woven themselves into the fabric of your everyday existence. You've always been cautious about what you share online, maintaining a certain distance between yourself and your followers. But with Prongs, Moony, and Padfoot, it feels like that line is blurring, like you're allowing them to see more of you, piece by piece.

It's not just about the content anymore. It's about the connection—the ease with which you converse, the way they understand the in-between spaces of your words, the sense of camaraderie that transcends the digital divide. They've become more than just fans; they're friends, in a way that both excites and terrifies you.

And while you can't quite put your finger on when exactly it happened, you realise that you've started to look forward to their responses, find yourself thinking about them even when you're offline. It's a strange feeling, unsettling yet exhilarating all at once. But for now, you push away the questions, focus instead on the fun chats and light-hearted flirtation.

You snap one last picture of the beach—this time without you in it—and tuck your phone back into your bag. A sense of calm washes over you as the sun dips below the horizon, painting the sky with hues of pink and purple. For now, everything is as it should be.

And tomorrow, when you return to the daily grind, they'll be there, ready to pick up the conversation where you left off.

#Poly!marauders x reader #poly!marauders x you #Sirius black x reader #Sirius black x you #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #james potter x you #james potter x reader #marauders era #marauders au #marauders fanfic #beyond the screen

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arcadia-of-pluto · 2 months ago

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"Ghost of You" M.List || Caleb (LADs)

Paring; LADS Caleb x reader

Word count; 9,067 (for both parts)

Themes; angst (depression, anxiety, PTSD-ish, some suicidal ideation "it should've been me"), reader has injuries (again, there's no way mc was that close to an explosion and had zero long term injuries??)

Warnings; Cursing and some slight mature themes

Notes; Originally, this was going to be a smut but half way through it, I decided against it 😭 it was supposed to just have some light grinding, but I'll just let yall use your imagination because i might practice smut more with different one-shots 🤔 I thought i might as well not ruin a one-shot that I'm proud of with bad smut, so it has a bit of a cut off/piss poor ending but what can ya do 🤷🏻‍♀️

Playlist; Ghost of you by Mimi Webb, Ghost of you by Selena Gomez, Indigo by Sam Barber feat. Avery Anna, Die with a smile by Bruno Mars and Lady Gaga, and lastly Ghost of you (by both 5sos and Mcr)

Sleep has evaded you for almost a year now. Every time you close your eyes, you’re brought back to that same place, that same time. Moments before the accident. You lose all sense of control, you’re helpless to your dreams as your body forces you to sleep from exhaustion…

You’re brought back to that time. That fateful moment eleven months ago. The day your life changed for the worst.

|| Part 1 ||

|| Part 2 ||

#love and deepspace #lads #love and deepspace x reader #lads x reader #lnds #lnds x reader #love and deepspace caleb x reader #love and deepspace caleb #lads caleb x reader #lads caleb #lnds caleb x reader #lnds caleb #l&ds #l&ds x reader #l&ds caleb

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kai-the-creature · 5 months ago

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hey, what’s up, it’s me, ur creature Flax! I thought I’d share my giant namehoard with you all. they’re pretty much all nouns/adjectives (although K may do a part two with human names). any of my FAVOURITE names will have a star beside them (three stars means it’s a top favourite)

hope you all enjoy, and feel free to use any of these for yourself; we don’t mind :3

-🌿🪲

putting it under the cut because holy crap it’s a lot

Nature related

Willow

Clover ⭐️⭐️⭐️

Reed

Birch ⭐️

Aspen

Mangrove

Oak

Hickory

Pine

Fern

Ivy

Thistle ⭐️

Rose

Orchid

Primrose

Buttercup

Bloom

Lily

Brook

River ⭐️

Rain ⭐️

Thunder

Cloud/cloudy

Sun/sunny

Blizzard

Flurry

Frost

Hail ⭐️

Torrent

Reef

Meadow

Ridge

Fen ⭐️⭐️⭐️

Marsh

Bog

Forest

Boreal

Conifer

Deciduous

Animals

Mouse

Rabbit ⭐️

Bunny

Rat

Puppy/Pup

Kitty/Kit

Tiger

Leopard

Ocelot

Sheep

Cow

Macaw

Pigeon ⭐️

Hawk

Owl

Dove

Chickadee

Lizard

Gecko ⭐️⭐️⭐️

Manta

Orca

Beetle ⭐️⭐️⭐️

Bee

Lepidoptera

Hymenoptera

Spider ⭐️⭐️⭐️

Weevil ⭐️⭐️⭐️

Objects/clothes

Button ⭐️⭐️⭐️

Jacket ⭐️

Mittens

Mug

Novel

Hoodie

Plush

Cottage

Monocle

Mannequin

Doll ⭐️⭐️⭐️

Acrylic

Tupperware

Socks

Toque/beanie (they’re the same thing so I’m grouping them together)

Patch ⭐️⭐️⭐️

Miscellaneous (aka me mixing a whole load of small categories together)

Mono ⭐️

Four

Five ⭐️

Six ⭐️⭐️⭐️

Seven

Eight

Nine ⭐️

Eleven

Liar

Handsome

Dreamer

Shade

Mercury

Venus

Mars

Jupiter

Saturn

Neptune ⭐️

Amethyst

Garnet

Pearl

Bismuth

Tourmaline ⭐️

Moonstone

Jade

Yellow

Green ⭐️

Blue

Lavender

Indigo ⭐️

Taupe

Mauve

Grey

Ivory

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corroded-hellfire · 25 days ago

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Hiii!! I had an idea for the As You Wish Series, what if Eddie and R are invited to their daughters kindergarten/elementary talent show. And she’s supposedly singing, and she comes on stage and starts belting out Twist by Korn!

I wonder what their reactions would be!

+ (Your writing is really really good ☺️)

Thank you so much 🥺

Apparently there are arguments that there are real lyrics to this song or if it’s just scatting. The proposed lyrics would not be child appropriate so I went with scatting, containing phonetic spellings that I found on Reddit lol

Words: 1.2k

[As You Wish masterlist]

“Did she tell you what she’s going to sing?”

You take your seat in the hard plastic chair next to your husband. The cafeteria of Hawkins Elementary School is full of kindergarteners’ parents, milling about and having soft conversations as they await the talent show to begin. It’s a small room, and the stage is a single step up that might be able to hold one class at a time.

Both you and Eddie cleared your entire Friday to see your daughter perform and then take her out to lunch. Luke and Ryan grumbled about how they still have to go to school the whole day but your husband was quick to remind them that he did the same thing for each of them when they had their respective kindergarten talent shows. Wayne is back at the house, watching the twins for a few hours. The older man assured you he was able to handle the newly one-year-olds at the same time. Of course, you trust him, but that doesn’t mean you don’t miss your babies and hope everything is going well.

“She wouldn’t tell me,” Eddie answers you with a sigh. “I tried everything. Since when can Eliza not be bribed?”

You turn your head and cock an eyebrow at your husband.

“You tried to bribe our five-year-old?”

“Oh, don’t act like you’ve never done that.” Eddie’s cocky smile dares you to lie to him.

“What did you try to give her?” you ask, skirting around his response altogether.

Eddie heaves a deep sigh and drapes his arm along the back of your chair.

“Ice cream. Apparently, vanilla was a no-go, though.”

“Ah,” you muse, snuggling up to his side. “That was your mistake. She’s in her cookie dough period right now.”

Eddie lets out a soft groan and says softly so that only you can hear, “It’s going to be a princess song, isn’t it?”

“Maybe.” You shrug. “But she has an eclectic taste just like her parents.”

“She gets the good taste from me,” Eddie says.

“Sure, honey.”

A young woman in a gray argyle sweater and a calf-length cranberry skirt steps up on the stage and your attention turns towards her. The famed Ms. Berry you hear about almost every day after school smiles out at the audience and rubs her hands together before speaking.

“Hello! Welcome to our Hawkins Kindergarten Talent Show!” There’s a soft polite applause from the crowd before she continues. “First, we will start with my class. So, please welcome our first student from Ms. Berry’s class, Andy Arvano.”

The only downside of having a last name that starts with an “M” is always having to wait, being stuck in the middle of the pack alphabetically. The first eleven students perform a variety of “talents”: juggling, dancing, singing, jump rope, magic tricks, and even ventriloquism.

By the time it’s Eliza’s turn, Eddie’s about ready to fall asleep. But the moment he hears his little girl’s name announced, he’s wide awake and sitting up straight in his rigid seat.

The indigo curtain partitioning off the cramped backstage space is tugged to the side by a small hand with perfectly pink polished nails. Out pops your daughter’s beautiful face, her bright smile shining out at everyone as she steps out and makes her way to the middle of the stage, her magenta dress with white polka dots swaying with her movements. She looks down at her black Mary Jane shoes, before looking back up at the crowd. It’s impossible to keep a smile off your face as you watch her gently toss her head to make sure her ringlet curls fall just right against her cheeks. Without raising her hand higher than her waist, Eliza throws you and Eddie a quick wave. Giddily, the two of you wave back to her.

Eliza’s chest lifts as she takes a deep breath and you feel like you’re on the edge of your seat. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Eddie beaming as he looks up at her. You reach over and slip your hand into his. He gives yours a gentle squeeze in anticipation.

“Twist!”

The belted-out word takes you aback. Without music accompanying her, you’re initially confused as to what song she’s singing.

After the first word, Eliza begins to jump up and down on the spot, thrashing her head from side to side. Her curls whip around, smacking her in the face with every turn. Her motions don’t stop as she opens her mouth and continues.

“You not ooh rah dah en dahp ooh rah daht endaht en dik ah poo ra ta teek a poo rah doo rah do dik oh mumblio dah dah dosa pa errah sa dey definitely ha to think about pa errah so ma et it heh uh uh rah nada no ob rah da sa oh rak ah you ma heh to bro rah de de eh ah is ah ra ray nah hear aned darayeah woo who rah eh pay pa do rah not to errraah.”

The approximation of words, which could hardly be called scatting in this instance, clues you and Eddie into where she got her choice of song.

You hear Eddie let out an irritated sigh under his breath. He leans in and whispers in your ear the one word conclusion that you’ve also come to.

“Ryan.”

Silently, you nod. Your eyes don’t leave Eliza as her jumping becomes even more frantic and her arms start pumping up and down with the action.

“Twist!”

Someone a few rows behind you lets out a soft snicker and it breaks your own resolve as well. You smile, pressing your lips together to contain laughter as you watch your five-year-old shout out a Korn song. Eddie chuckles next to you as well and the two of you share an amused glance before looking back at the performance.

“ooh e ooh rah daht endaht endaht endaht ooh rah sadah eh mah rah day huh pah tay who uh mah nah who nah peek a boo nah eh na ooh rah eh essimple he neh head a nerah.”

Coming up on the final word, Eliza ceases her bouncing. She poses with her feet spread, her arms reaching out, resembling a starfish as she throws her head back.

“Twist!”

Her little chest is heaving as she finishes. Both you and Eddie immediately break into applause, the crowd around you doing the same. It’s by far the most entertaining performance of the afternoon.

The proud look that graces your daughter’s face at the clapping warms your heart. She grabs the sides of her skirt and tucks one leg behind the other, dropping into a curtsy. Once she stands back up, she searches for you and Eddie in the crowd. You immediately blow her kisses and Eddie waves at her. She giggles and gives a quick wave back before skipping off the stage.

After she’s out of sight, your laughter comes bubbling out. You tuck your face into Eddie’s neck and he slings his arm around you, chuckling himself.

“Oh boy,” he huffs with a laugh. “Well…it could’ve been a worse Korn song.”

You pick your head up and press a kiss to his cheek.

“At least it wasn’t a princess song, huh?”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #older!eddie #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #Eddie Munson fanfiction #eddie munson fan fiction #Eddie Munson fan fic #dad!eddie #AYW #AYWS #request

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