#oh the edit was that his shirt is green. not red
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majorshatterandhare · 1 year ago
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[ID, copied from alt text:
An edited Sheldon "Love is in the air" meme: Sheldon Cooper, a white man in a green shirt, stares out of the middle of the frame. Above him, the top text has been edited: the word Love as well as the letters I and N are in the original Impact font, and around them is a green scribble covering the original text. On that scribble are handwritten the letters W and S as well as a question mark, such that the text now reads "Love wins?" Below Sheldon, the bottom text has also been edited: "Wrong" is in the original Impact font while the rest of the bottom text is in a red serif font inside a black box covering the bottom part of the image. The red text reads: "Three shots rang out from the shadows of the doorway.”
Additionally, the background it lime green. The Impact font is large uppercase block letters in white, with a black outline.
Note: an edit was made for accuracy.
End ID]
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eddiernunson · 1 year ago
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Nice to Meet You, Where You Been? | Eddie Munson x f!Reader | 18+
Thank you to @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you for editing, you're the best!
Summary: your college roommate takes you to the annual Harrington Halloween Party, where you expect to do nothing but get drunk and dance for a night. That was...until you turn around to the person dancing against you to Eddie fucking Munson.
Warnings: strangers to lovers, praise/degradation, hook-up at a party, daddy kink, creampie, no protection, slow ish build up, size kink? maybe?, hooking up under the influence
I had a whole ass plan to write for KinkTober but executive dysfunction took over. Hopefully this makes up for it...maybe.
I have another Halloween themed fic from last year, EddiexReader with Steve if anyone is interested
Word Count: 6.1k
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You sit in the backseat of your roommate’s boyfriend’s beater, the music bumping through the stereo as you make your way to what is supposedly the biggest Halloween party of every year. Your roommate spent the beginning of your fall semester hyping up this party as the best place to be on a Halloween night. Her insistence was charming, and you were looking for an excuse to get drunk. So, now you are watching as you pass by Halloween decorations and children dressed in costumes going Trick-or-Treating.
You don't pay much attention to what they're saying, the gist of it reminiscing on the Halloween parties they had attended in the past. Your roommate had made it very clear from the start that this guy, whatever his name was, his Halloween parties were legendary in town. He has only been throwing them for a handful of years, but if you were a young adult in rural Hawkins on Halloween night, chances are you were at this party.
You start to wonder how big this guy’s house must be if a couple hundred people have been attending every year, and it sounded like he even encouraged it.
You can hear the music bumping from the house before you even see it. It's hard to miss, a cluster of cars in the neighborhood, several people walking up the lawn towards the wide-open door. Your roommate’s boyfriend parks down the street, a spot that is probably fine to park overnight due to the nature of the party.
If there is to be a single sober soul at this party, they would be a rare sight.
You tug at your costume as you walk behind the two of them, strutting arm in arm. They’re wearing a matching couple’s costume, as salt and pepper. It’s something they could come up with last minute, him wearing a black shirt for pepper and her a white dress for salt. Their costume is minimal, and certainly they’ll get asked frequently what they’re supposed to be, but when everyone’s intoxicated, you suppose it won’t matter much.
You’re dressed as your favorite iconic Batman villain, Poison Ivy. You loved the character from the DC comics as you grew up and having a year away from your parents and in a different town, you figured it might be a time to try a new daring costume. So here you walk, arms crossed in a small green dress with fake vines pinned across your chest. You opted for some dramatic green eyeshadow and bright red lips, hoping your makeup and costume will sell the look.
Your ears are nearly bursting as you cross the threshold to the front door of the massive house from the loud bumping music. The pop music is a bit obnoxious, but you’re sure you won’t care once some alcohol is in your system.
Your roommate seems to remember you exist, escaping her boyfriend’s arms for the moment and intertwining her arm around yours. She immediately guides you to the kitchen where stacks of red solo cups are sitting, surrounded by bottles of alcohol and soda. “Holy shit.” You mutter.
“I know.” She giggles, handing you a cup and some tequila.
“No thanks.” You push it back, knowing what exactly tequila does to you. “I’ll just do a vodka-sprite.”
As you’re pouring, in waddles a lanky dude with brown curled hair and freckles scattered on his pale skin.  “Oh hey, Mandy!” He greets her, stumbling as he toasts his cup. “Haven’t seen you in a while! How’s that boyfriend of yours?” He asks, spinning the lid of the alcohol he’s holding absentmindedly, causing it to flick off into the distance.  
“Nate’s good, I think he’s taking over your stereo, though.” She says, moving the bottles around to make Nate’s drink, as well.
“As per usual.” He laughs, pouring a large quantity of said tequila into his cup.
Mandy seems to realize something halfway through her sip. “Oh shit!” She sputters out, a drip of alcohol leaving her mouth. “Sorry, I forgot you two don’t know each other, yet. Y/N, this is Steve. Steve, Y/N.”
“Hi.” You greet him shyly, his confidence radiating, but very intimidating.
“Hello. Me casa e su casa, and whatever, whatever. Can I just ask, who are you supposed to be?” He asks you, gesturing to your costume.
“Oh, Poison Ivy.” You explain to him, sipping on your concoction and wincing when you realize you’ve poured way too much.
Steve blinks at you, seemingly trying to make sense of your costume. “You’re—you’re a plant?”
You laugh, not in the mood to explain comic book villains to someone who clearly doesn’t know anything about them. “Yeah, sure.”
“Oh, cool!” Steve laughs, taking a big sip of his drink.
“Hey, Steve, you see much of Munson these days?” Mandy asks him, wiping her face from the excess drink surrounding her mouth.
How wonderful, more people you don’t know. Hawkins is the smallest town you’ve ever seen; everyone seems to know of everyone.
“Eddie? Yeah, he should be here tonight actually. Super dork, dressed as some character from Star Wars. Or at least I think it’s Star Wars.” He mutters, rolling his eyes in obvious affection for his friends. “He’s matching with Henderson and Wheeler.”
They shake their heads together in tandem at their supposedly dorky friends. As a Star Wars fan, however, you were fine, ecstatic even to hear that there were souls brave enough to dress up as dorky characters and that you weren’t the only one.
You follow Mandy into the living room, now bumping with a tape mix that Nate apparently brought to the party. It's a damn blast, everyone in the living room dancing surrounded by sweaty bodies, finally finding some joy as the strong drink makes you lose your inhibitions. As you continue dancing, suddenly you find yourself in a huddle of people, Mandy and Nate both dancing by you, but lost in their own drunken haze. You don’t care about that. However, something in your mind as you tell yourself you don’t care tells you to care about the person who’s been up against your back for God knows how long.
They have a good rhythm, and they weren’t all too touchy so nothing in your head raised any red flags. You turn around to face the stranger, and it’s like you forget how to breathe. One of his hands is placed on your hip, a smile on his face giving way to dimples that make you swoon. “Hi.” He greets you. You can’t quite hear it over the music, but you can certainly read his lips. Isn’t all that hard to decipher.
You smile back to him, letting a forearm rest on his shoulder. Who were you to deny such a pretty person? His wide smile expands even more, adding some pressure to your hip. The weight and size of his hand sends a thrill through you, and there’s a level of horniness that’s coming from you that you didn’t even know you could have.
Your drink is eventually finished, the cup dropped to the floor, forgetting to bother to throw it away. The gorgeous stranger pulls you in closer and closer as you continue to dance with him, his hands never dipping down past your waist, but you can tell by the steadiness of his grip that he knows how to use them. Usually, eye contact this intense would cause you to retract, looking away after that first glance. This eye contact only makes you want him more, his brown eyes exuding a type of lust you’ve never experienced before.
Or…were you just picturing this?
The hand that rested on your hip moves to frame your face, slender fingers brushing your cheek, caressing it for a half a moment. The hand moves down to hook under your chin, his thumb swiping across your bottom lip. His eyes very obviously stare at your lips, silently asking you for permission. When his tongue licks his bottom lip you nod eagerly, one hand moving to his black curls that you have been itching to touch as long as you’ve faced him.
Somehow, your ears muffle out the deafening music in favor of the chuckle that leaves his mouth. Before you could even register your heartbeat loud in your ears, he bends down to kiss you, and for the first time your brain computes how much taller he is than you. Any thought you might’ve had seems to evacuate the moment his soft lips meet yours. He kisses you with an expertise that makes you irrationally jealous of any other person who’s had the opportunity before you. He draws a sharp inhale as you deepen the kiss, offering more slobber and spit for him to wholeheartedly accept.
His hands tangle in your curled hair, thumbs caressing your face on either side. Something you're learning about this stranger is that he kisses with his whole body, and he knows how to do it well. His teeth graze against your bottom lip, tugging on it lightly. You whimper, shoving your tongue down his throat. A deep laugh escapes his throat as he meets your enthusiasm. He kisses the corner of your mouth, your cheek, and down to your collarbone. You barely sigh into it when his lips leave your collarbone, looking at you with remorse.
Uh oh. Not good. Were you the worst kisser and he was going to go find someone else worthy of his magical skills?
“Sorry, gotta piss. Beer’s hittin’ hard.” He shouts over the music, his thumb gesturing toward where you guessed the bathroom was.
“Ok. I’m gonna go get another drink.” You tell him, noting the red lipstick now all over his lips. “You got some uh…some lipstick there…hold on…” You reach out to wipe it for him, but he deflects, ducking from your thumb humorously.
“Uh…no thanks. I wear this shit with pride.” He explains, giving you a wink. “Meet you in the kitchen.”
You nod, suddenly full of nerves. You have been all over this guy for the last…however long, you couldn’t even tell. And now you’re realizing, he might be a decent dude on top of being a fantastic kisser.
Your legs carry you into the kitchen, running into Mandy and Nate. You weren’t sure where they’d been, having been lost in your own little world.
“Hi, babe!” She greets you, alcohol sharp on her breath. Whoa. She has had a lot more than you have. “I missed you, where the hell you been?”
You giggle, deciding to go for the tequila. After all, it was your literal liquid courage. And if you wanted to get that man’s fingers down your panties tonight, you were gonna need some. “Making out with the hottest guy I’ve ever seen in my life.” You proudly proclaim, taking a big sip of just straight tequila before adding some Sprite.
“Oh my god!” She squeals, letting go and forgetting about Nate’s existence. “Holy shit, I’m so fucking proud!” Speaking of him…he waltzes into the kitchen, grabbing a cup right by you and winking, apparently unseen by Mandy. “Shit, I’ve been looking for you!” She tells him, drunkenly tapping her hand on his bicep. “Hey, Y/N! This is Eddie. Remember? The dork Steve talked about earlier?”
Ouch. Mandy has no filter, as of course, she's drunk, but she didn’t have to be rude.
At least now you have a name for him. You were starting to feel bad. “Oh, I’m acquainted.” You tell her, sharing a smirk with Eddie.
“Seriously? Cool.” Mandy answers, not getting the hint. You gesture with your eyes alone to Mandy that Eddie was the guy you were talking about just a few moments ago. She gets it, but apparently forgets all about subtlety. “Wait, Eddie Munson is the hottest guy you’ve ever seen in your life?” She asks you incredulously, like it's the most unbelievable thing she's ever heard.
“Thanks, Mandy.” You grit out, teeth clenched.
“Oops.” She grimaces, grabbing Nate's hand. “We’re gonna go find a spot on the couch to make out. Sorry!”
You roll your eyes affectionately, knowing she meant no harm. Did she have to say it, though?
The smirk on Eddie’s face says everything without saying a word. “So, the hottest guy you’ve ever seen, huh?” He asks, looking incredibly proud of the fact.
You knock your tequila back, needing more liquid courage. “Yep. Hottest.”
His eyebrow raises, and he takes a big sip of his own drink. Maybe he needs his own courage. “Well, you’re probably the sexiest damn Poison Ivy I’ve ever seen.” He smirks, leering at you. His eyes blatantly rake up and down your body, giving you a surge in confidence. “You’re like a little sexy nugget of weed.” He laughs, his words slightly slurred.
“Wait, you get that I’m Poison Ivy?” You ask, finally assessing his costume. Oh, he’s Vader without the mask. “I mean I guess you are the dork they talked about earlier.” Eddie seems slightly sunken by this. “Don’t worry,” you tell him theatrically. “I’m a massive dork, myself.”
He perks up, pulling you in by the waist. “What do you say we find a room upstairs?” He asks, taking another big sip of his drink.
You raise your cup back to your lips, knocking the remainder down fast. “I say, lead the way.”
He grabs you by the hand and leads you up the stairs, pushing some people out of the way that were blocking it in the middle of a conversation. As he leads you down the hall, the music somewhat fades out and you can hear him muttering under his breath. “We better find a guest room cause I’m not hooking up in Harrington’s room, and I’ll be damned if I hook up in his parents' room.”
From that, you’re able to assess that he’s over here enough to know which room belongs to whom. He knocks on one of the doors, swearing softly when someone shouts out. He does it twice more, meeting the same result. “Ok.” He sighs, fingers crossed. He knocks twice, no answer. He knocks once more for good measure, and it can be said that there is definitely no one inside. “Thank fuck.”
As soon as you’re through the door he turns the dimmer switches on lightly and locks the door. You take off the vines, letting the pins and fake plants fall to the floor to make it easier for him to climb on you.
He watches you from the four postered bed, still head to toe in what you now noticed was the caped costume that Darth Vader wears. “So, we don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with, by the way. If you wanna do hand stuff, we’ll do hand stuff.”
Your gut swoops at his consideration and empathy. He seems to truly care about your comfortability rather than him getting off. You walk to him, swiping off all accessories you wore, including your shoes. You straddle his lap, pushing on him lightly so he falls back onto the bed. You attack his lips with your own, attempting to show how much his consideration for you already has you soaked. “I will do” you whisper in between a handful of kisses, “anything you want me to,” you tell him, starting to grind the tent you feel poking past your dress. “Within reason.” You add for good measure, not quite that down for anything. But if he wants to fuck you, you’re down. You’re so down. You’re so down bad.
“Fuck…do that again.” He asks, holding your hips. You comply, grinding your wet heat against him, teasing yourself, but loving the expression on his face. It's ethereal. “Fuck, baby. You barely touched me, and you already have me falling apart.”
This makes you smile with pride. A huff of laughter escapes your lips, sighing deeply as you can feel his erection growing. The fact that this man is as hard as he is when he’s this good looking is the biggest compliment in the world. You wrap his lips in a kiss again, your tongue peeking out to lick across his lip, managing to tug yet another moan out of him. You relish in the tone, the whimper that follows right after it. He really isn’t afraid to tell you how much he is enjoying what the two of you are doing.
As you continue to explore his tequila-scented mouth, both of his hands cup your ass, feeling his limber fingers bunch up the fabric of the bright green dress you’re wearing. He takes his time, giving you every minute to communicate any second thoughts. You moan impatiently, encouraging him to get under there already.
He chuckles, pulling the rest of the material up swiftly. His fingers grab at the skin of your barely covered ass cheeks roughly, the friction burning in the best way. A whimper escapes your throat, your mouth filling with the taste of him as your tongues meet. You’re sure he’s gripping those cheeks hard enough to bruise, not that you mind.
An increasing need has been growing since you first laid eyes on him, the need for him to touch you in the most sinful of ways. While his touch on your ass is electric, you are ready for much more. Your whimpers echo the thought, feeling needy for more of his touch, your hip movements going from fluid and purposeful to rigid and needy.
“What do you need, hmm?” He asks in-between kisses, one hand pushing up your dress to your waist as it caresses your bare hip. “Use your words, beautiful.”
“Need you to touch me,” the thought leaves your lips without your permission. How dare your brain betray you like that?
Eddie starts to kiss at your jaw, switching between nibbles and his tongue deliciously lapping at the skin. “Like how?” He asks in intervals, his voice soft, yet demanding. “Like this?” He grabs harshly at your ass, nails digging into the soft flesh. “Like this?” He asks again, tingles radiating down your skin as he lightly grazes your hip bone. “Or…like this?” His hand that rested on your hip bone flutters down to where heat radiates off your core, getting a feel of your soaked panties. “Oh my god, you’re so fucking wet.” He mutters, putting some pressure at the top of your mound.
Your hips start desperately grinding against his fingers, needing him to touch you. “Can you blame me?” You ask him, breath stuttering through it.
“Are you trying to flatter me?” He asks, pausing his pressure momentarily and backing off to study you. You stutter through an empty response, and he laughs kindly. “Cause flattery works, sweetheart.” His fingers move past the cotton barrier he's been making small circles against, delicately tracing along the wetness of your folds. You’re so slick, it’s like a damn slip and slide. The moment his fingers make contact with you, they’re soaked and in your juices.
“Oh shit—” you stutter, grinding on him helplessly. You can barely focus, your arms weak as you’re suddenly unable to hold your weight as you collapse on him. He's not touching you purposely, but just the feel of him sends a ripple down your spine. “Feels good.”
“Hmm.” He answers, noting the way you’re writhing so beautifully on top of him. He knew he would have you in a mess. In fact, he looked forward to it from the moment he saw you. He meticulously moves you onto your back, taking in your wide-eyed stare with a smirk. “Gonna take these off.” He mutters, fingers moving to the waistband of your panties. “Need a good look at you.”
You’re not entirely sure what he means until you see the look on his face as he stares at your pussy for the first time. His darkened stare, the slack smile he wears as he stares at you. Well not you, just the most vulnerable part of you. You’ve had a bit of experience in high school, but no one ever looked at your pussy like this. Like…it’s…
“Beautiful.” Eddie whispers, licking his lips. You watch him as he takes you in, admiring how wanted he makes you feel. Without a warning he lurches forward in between your legs, his tongue licking one long strip up your slick. Your thighs convulse, the pleasure so red hot, you can’t control the choked-out moan that escapes your lips if you tried. “Oh, you’re shaking, baby.”
His tongue moves more purposely to your clit, sucking on it and tapping with his tongue repeatedly. Your thighs clamp around his face, tensing up as every goddamn nerve is set on fire. You feel a slight huff of laughter against your puffy clit, the breath tickling you, causing you to giggle from the sensation. The giggle leads into a whimper, the small movements of his tongue sending you into overdrive. “Feels so—oh my god—I—” You stutter, unable to finish a single sentence.
He tugs your legs, forcing your knees against your chest to get even closer. A fierce heat starts in your stomach, startling the hell out of you. A great build slowly moves you, pushing you step by step over a high you’ve never reached before. Your stomach has never coiled so tightly, the heat never so intense. “Too much, too much.”
“You’re almost there, sweetheart.” He encourages you, watching every muscle in your legs tighten and feeling your abdomen tighten and release. “Oh, it’s gonna feel so good, baby. Wanna see you cum for me, see you fall apart, hear that pretty little mouth make the prettiest noises.”
Eddie slips a finger in, pumping it slowly at first, building up the speed quickly as he continues sucking. There’s something in you telling you to be embarrassed at how quickly your orgasm has snuck up on you, but from the foreplay of his expert lips and the mind-numbing words, it only makes sense.
“Cl-close…” You manage out, the heat making your way through your body, even making a stop in your head.
“Let me see you come apart, sweetheart.” He tells you, working his fingers at an unmatched rate.
The sensation sends you over the edge, your extremities shaking uncontrollably. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, a near primal moan leaves your mouth, a sound you didn’t even know you had the capability of making.
It takes you a minute to recover, Eddie working you through your whole orgasm and gently kissing your thighs until you come back to. He’s patient, waiting until your breathing slows down, kissing his way up your half-dressed torso. Eddie rests his body on yours, the tent in his pants meeting the heat of your center as his forearms support his weight on either side of your head. His thumbs sway at your temple, slowly watching as your eyes lose their glaze.
Your vision finally focuses back on him, his soft smile on his face welcoming as he watches you. His legs tense up, his muscles spasming as he resists thrusting into your heat. It’s teasing you, your hips accidentally moving upwards to meet the now wet stain on his polyester costume. “You’re wearing too much.” You tell him, whining softly.
“I’m sorry, should I take these off?” He asks, kissing you rapidly on the face right after. “Or if you’re done, I don’t blame you.”
“Done?” You ask incredulously. “Oh no, I’m not even close to done.” You tell him, giggling when he gives you a smirk.
“Just checking, sweetheart.” Eddie replies, kissing you rapidly again.
You’re finally back on earth, your hands reaching around him to look for where his costume opens. You had a feeling it would open from the back. You pull each Velcro apart one by one, your hands telling you as you move down that he’s not wearing anything underneath. You don't know if it's odd or the hottest thing in the world. Both, definitely both.
Your nails scratch at his skin at the last one, finally taking the shoulders off. You gasp as he helps you take out each arm awkwardly, only because you could finally see all the tattoos that his costume has covered up. “Holy shit.” You mutter, hands reaching out to palm at each one.
As he mouths at your neck, you push the rest of his costume down, figuring out it was a one piece. Ok. Steve might’ve been right about calling him a dork. But with his cunnilingus skills, who fucking cares? “You wanna fuck?” He asks, making his way down your neck, one hickey at a time.
You wrap your legs around his waist, tugging him down so the thin fabric meets your soaked pussy even harder. “Please?”
“When you ask so nicely, how could I deny?” He answers, leaving one last final nibble on your shoulder. He gets up without a warning, and you whine pathetically. “Jus’ takin off my pants sweetheart. Can’t put my dick in you if it’s still covered.”
You watch him pull down his pants, teasing you as it makes its way down his torso, his treasure trail, the v-line, you start drooling the moment his cock pops out. You figured he was big from his bulge pressed against you, but the material was apparently holding him back from his true length. You spend a good minute staring at it, how pink the head is, how thick he looks, it made you nearly feral.
“Enjoying the show?” Eddie asks. You glance back up at his face, heating up when you realize you've stared a lot longer than planned.
“Mmmhmm.” You tell him, not seeing any need to deny.
He lurches forward onto the bed, yanking giggles out of you. His hands roughly move up your torso to take your dress off, moving it over your head. He throws it over his shoulder, eyes raking in your tits like they’re in the Louvre. Hell, he’d take a polaroid and hang it there, despite the risk of security arresting and escorting him out immediately after.
“You are fucking gorgeous, baby.” He mutters, leaning into one of your tits mouthing at the nipple delicately, grazing it with his teeth, turning the mound into a shade of purple.
You can’t help yourself, reaching down to grab his cock. “Need you in me.” You urge him, smiling when he lets out a surprised whimper.
“Fucking—” he stutters out, biting on his lip. “Yeah, yeah, okay. I can do that.” He laughs, and before you have a moment to admire how adorable that was, you feel him line himself up. “Shit, you’re fucking tight.”
You can feel exactly what he means, the head barely pushing in. Even with how wet you are, Eddie's having difficulty pushing into you. Your mouth drops open, panting through it at the blinding pain and pleasure. He pauses, giving you a moment to adjust. “Feels so goddamn good, Ed.” You gasp, blindly reaching for him.
Blindly, because your eyes are unable to stay open from the sheer pleasure that has taken over your body.
“I know, baby I know.” He whispers, holding one hand to your face.
“Ok.”
He pushes in more, eliciting a high-pitched whine out of you. “You have any idea how fucking hot those little noises that you make are?” He asks, his voice husky and strained.
You laugh at his successful attempt at flattery, causing him to whine at the way your pussy tightens around him in sync. “Keep going.”
He pushes in a little bit more, your legs tensing around his torso as the noise caught in your throat is even louder. “You’re taking me so well, baby, what a good girl.” You tighten up at his praise, provoking Eddie to get the idea that praise is something that you desire. “Oh, you liked that, didn’t you, my good girl?” You tighten around him again, Eddie twitching in you as a response.
“More.” You manage out, your voice guttural. He pushes in just a little bit more. “Oh my god, you’re in my fucking stomach, so fucking deep!” You whine, eyes closed as you pulse around him.
“Just a little bit more, baby. You’re doing so well, such a good girl.”
“More.”
He pushes the rest of his cock in, finally able to rest his body on yours. You take your time adjusting to his size, inhaling, and exhaling with purpose as the pain subsides. “That’s a girl, take your time.” He mutters, watching you carefully.
“Kiss me please.” You whisper, opening your eyes to face the intensity radiating from his chocolate brown ones. He leans in for a lush kiss, your legs wrapping around him to pull him in tightly. His hand moves to your tit, playing with the nipple between two of his fingers. Your tongues meet, somehow knowing exactly what the other needs. “You can move now.” You whisper in between kisses.
Eddie, apparently a master at multitasking, lifts his hips without so much as stuttering in the kiss. You expected him to stop, but the new mix of sensation throws you off intensely. His first thrust causes you to shout directly into his mouth. You’re much more prepared for the second thrust, however unprepared for the force behind it. “Yeah?” He asks, pulling back and staring into your eyes.
You nod enthusiastically. “So good. Cock feels…so good.” You whine to him, legs unable to continue holding onto him as tight as they were. Now they’re floating in the air aimlessly, unable to focus on much except for how good and how deep he is. “How…this good?” The question you meant to ask was how he was so good at fucking like this, but your mouth was unable to form a single coherent sentence.
“Barely been in you for a minute, and you’re already cock-drunk, huh?” He borderline mocks you, fucking you faster with each thrust.
You grunt in response, fully accepting the label of cock drunk. “So…good, Eddie!” It’s just…fucking true, which is the only rational thought in your brain for the moment. Others are So Hot, and Big Ass Cock, and finally, Gorgeous fucking body.
“Your pretty pussy is so tight, baby, bein’ such a good girl for me.” Eddie sits up, pulling your ass down to where he can fuck you in a better position where he can hit your g-spot. He rests a hand sideways on your lower tummy, putting slight pressure on it. This sends a blinding hot pleasure into you as he repeatedly hits that spot.
“F-fuck, get-getting cl-close…” you stutter, feeling your tits bounce at the sheer force he's fucking you with.
“This is fucking embarrassing, but so am I, baby.” He mutters, starting to go at a faster rate, which you would've deemed impossible a few seconds ago. “Your pussy is so fucking good, can’t fuckin’ help myself.”
You half giggle, half moan at the flattery, not minding for one moment that he would cum so quickly. After all, he spent the first half paying most of his attention to you, so you understand if he's been pent up. While that is the reality of why, you can’t help but feel like hot shit for making someone as fantastic as Eddie cum so fast. His stamina and willingness to give on top of how gorgeous he is does nothing but boost your ego.
“Cum with me.” You beg him, also on the edge. “Cum in me.”
“Oh my god—” you make his hips stutter, and you smile with pride. “You sure, baby?” He asks, trying to make sure he covers his tracks.
“Cum in me, please, daddy!” It leaves your mouth before you’re unable to stop it, the daddy kink not quite something you break out on the first fuck most of the time.
Eddie, however, is a different breed. He meets the unexpected outburst with a growl, and you swear his cock twitches inside of you. “Of course, baby girl, whatever you want.” He grunts out. “Daddy is gonna fill you the fuck up.” He lurches forward so he’s skin on skin with you again so he can whisper in your ear. “When we go back downstairs, I’m gonna keep your panties, and you're gonna dance with my cum dripping down your fucking legs.” You tighten up around him, telling Eddie this is exactly what you wanted from him. The sweet mixture of praise and degradation makes your head spin with need. “You like that, huh? Of course, you’d like that you fucking slut.” His hips rut harshly against yours and at a stupid crazy speed. “If I catch you trying to clean yourself up, you’re gonna fucking hear about it, got it?”
You nod, entirely thrilled about this.
“Didn’t fuckin hear you, slut.”
“Got it, daddy.” You answer, right on the edge.
“You gonna cum with me, baby girl?” He asks, his voice strained.
“Mmhmm. Waiting for you.”
“Good fucking girl. I’m so close…fuck…gonna—” Eddie is interrupted by his own orgasm, which sends you over the edge with him. It’s not as intense as your last one, so you’re able to pay extra attention to the look on his face. His mouth half open, a deep moan leaving his throat.  Oh god, you’ll definitely be remembering this next time it’s only you and your imagination.
He collapses on you, his chest and forehead covered in sweat. The only sound in the air is you and Eddie catching your breath together. Your breath is finally back in your lungs, but your heart is still racing against his chest. He suddenly sits himself back on his forearms, petting at your forehead and hair gently. “Fuck, please go out with me on Saturday.” He whispers, quietly assessing the expression you wear on your face.
“Huh?” You ask him, unsure you heard him correctly.
“Go out with me on Saturday. Please, I can’t fuck a pussy this good and not take you out on a hot date.” He mutters softly, placing the gentlest of kisses on your lips.
“If you think I’m letting you go after this, you’re fucking insane.” You whisper back, framing his face to grab it for another lush kiss.
Eddie sighs, petting your hair. “Thank fucking god.” He pulls out of you, tugging a whimper out of you. He gives one last kiss, before moving down your torso. You almost ask what he was doing, when you feel two of his fingers push inside you quickly.
Your head jerks up, wondering what in the ever-living hell he's doing.
“Just helping by pushing the cum back in you, baby. Wanted to give you at least a fighting chance before it starts dripping down these stunning thighs of yours.” He places a wet kiss on your thigh, one last quiver radiating through it. “You good to stand up?”
“Hope so.” You laugh, scooching your ass down the plain comforter. Eddie tosses you your dress and gets dressed back into his cheap costume himself.
You assess Eddie, fixing his hair so he doesn’t look so disheveled. “You realize my lipstick is all over your neck and face, right?” You ask him, assessing him in all his post-nut glory. How the fuck is anyone this hot?
“Didn't I tell you earlier that I'm gonna wear this shit with pride, darlin?” He asks you, giving you a smile that makes you melt. “Wanna go downstairs and make-out on Steve's dad’s stupid chair?”
“If we make out I might wanna blow you.” You admit, the effects of the alcohol and the level of his hotness has still completely taken over your brain.
Eddie groans, and you swear his pupils dilate. “Fuck, I’ll take you into the nearest hallway closet if that happens, then you can get on your knees and suck my cock off like a good girl. You just tell me, yeah?”
You giggle as he opens the door and you nod enthusiastically, pretty much already in your head that hooking up with Eddie is nowhere near done.
When you reach the bottom of the steps, Eddie tugs on your hand straight to the leather chair in the corner, having you sit across his lap as his tongue makes its way down your throat again.
Eventually, after a mere ten minutes of teasing, Eddie has to lead you to a hallway closet, where yes, you worship him on your knees with his treasure trail meeting your nose.
That was the best fucking Halloween, ever.
-
Thank you so much for reading! I love to read your comments, replies, and reblogs. As always, reblogging is the best way to support your fic writers on tumblr.
Taglist: @pinkcowracing @yourthebrokengirl @skrzydlak @thirddeadlysin @sammararaven @bebe07011 @prettylovley @josephquinnschesthair @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you @names-were-taken @oddussy420
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bgbu · 5 months ago
Text
Catching the BG3 Companions Reading The Quarta Sune - Astarion Edition
Hello!! I haven't posted on tumblr in, deadass, almost a decade...so pls be kind :)
content warnings: 18+, piv, unprotected sex, choking
pairing: f!reader x Astarion
word count: 1600
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“What are you reading my love?”
Your usually alert elf shudders, his surprise evident for only a second before the bravado settles back into his charming smirk as he tries to subtly move the book from his lap off to the side. “Why hello Darling! I thought you’d be several hours out still? No orphans you felt compelled to save from burning buildings this afternoon?” He leans back, slyly trying to push the book farther off to the side as he sprawls his legs and pushes himself back into his elbows.
“I’m afraid not. Gale actually tripped over a fallen tree, so I walked him back to camp while Karlach and Lae’zel said they’d keep hunting for dinner.” You chuckle at your clumsy wizard friend as you sit down to unlace your boots and toss a glance over to Astarion who has his fangs bared wide in his massive smile, his eyes gleaming with water as laughter bursts from his chest and a tear breaks loose and rolls down his cheek. His laughter breaks your own composure, and you join in on his giggles. The little green book on the tent floor catches your eye again as you put your plan into motion.  You lurch forward onto all fours and slink the short distance to where your rogue is propped up on the other side of the tent.  With a feline sway you wiggle your way over to him until you hover over his legs, holding his crimson gaze.  You lunge for the book and sit back into your hips, locking his feet in place, and he lets out a light gasp at your deception.
“My dear it is nothing really, I-”
“I believe you Star, but you know it wouldn’t be embarrassing if you were reading it, right?”
The Quarta Sune is full of sensual and sexual knowledge, the dogeared page it is open to in your hands includes a diagram of the “Underdark Choke” as well as a recipe for an aphrodisiac oyster stew.
“Well, I…in light of recent events I…ugh darling” he trails off, but you bring your hand up to cup his cheek and trail your finger around his jaw to lift up his chin as you scooch farther forward into his lap.  You make your voice soft as you purr, “Star you’re reclaiming your life and your body for the first time in centuries. My love, there is no shame in using whatever tools and information you can find to help you find what you are and aren’t comfortable with.”
He sighs deeply, staring at you through ruby red eyes gleaming with emotion before you lean forward to give him a quick peck on the cheek.  You begin to push off on your arms to give him some space, but his long fingers quickly reach out for your belt loops to pull you up into his chest with a small purr of approval reverberating through his chest. 
“Well, my dear, since you have offered your sickeningly compassionate support for my journey perhaps you’ll indulge me in a brief exercise of…oh how should I put it?”  His fingertip barely brushes your collarbone as he whispers into your ear, his cheeky grin audible, “Exploration?”
You shiver involuntarily as his breath tickles your ear and he chuckles in a sultry tone, “Is that a ‘yes’ my sweet?”
“Anything for you dear.”
“How delicious!!”
Astarion quickly flips you over his side as he rolls onto you, now straddling your lap with both cool hands holding your wrists against the bedroll.  He lets go for a moment to toss his flowing shirt over his head in one fell swoop before he hungrily begins to unlace your bodice while he gently grinds his hips down into yours. You sit up to assist him in removing your bodice over your head and he firmly pushes your shoulders back into the bedroll, a low growl rising in his throat as watches your breasts bounce with the impact.  You don’t even have time to run your fingers through his pearly locks before he peels the trousers off your legs with speed before stripping his own legs bare. 
You let out a soft whimper as his length springs free. “Now, now little pup, so eager already? My research has told me that slow, deliberate movements can improve the quality of our escapades.  Shall we verify?” His red eyes glimmer in anticipation as a confident smirk tugs his lips to the side just enough to reveal one sparkling white fang. You eagerly nod as he kneels at your feet, moving at a snail’s pace as you feel him exhale softly across the skin of your thighs while he slowly uses his free hand to part your thighs.  He slinks up your legs and stops his head right below your now damp center.  You feel his hot breath fan across your core, the stimulation drawing a small whine from your mouth as you clench the bedroll on either side of your body. 
He chuckles softly and draws himself even farther up your body, as he pushes comfortably onto his side, using one arm to prop his head up and the other to wrap tightly around your waist, tilting you onto your side so you can feel his cool, smooth chest push into your back.  He softly kisses up your shoulder as you turn to expose your neck, pulse beating fast and hard beneath the delicate skin of your throat.  Astarion skates his hand up from your waist to palm the soft flesh of your breasts eliciting another moan from your lips as you push your butt back against him.  He huskily grunts into your ear, “On all fours please my little lamb, I’d like to try something.”
You oblige, extending your back into a stretch and wiggling your ass in the air. You expect a small smack, as would typically come from your vamp in a situation like this. Instead, you feel both of his hands wrap firmly around your waist, sliding back to softly claw your hip bones.
“Do you trust me darling?”
“Yes my love.”
He purrs in approval as he pushed his cock against your clothed mound, creating just enough friction to make you moan.  He gently backs up and slides your underwear down to your knees; you sharply breathe in through your teeth as the cool evening air makes you more aware of your warm, wet core begging for attention.  Astarion slowly leans back into you, making you whine as you feel his wet tip caress your folds. His left hand slides up the curve of your ass to rest on your lower back, while his right hand journeys farther up your spine, curving around your shoulder, and softly wrapping around your throat.  You gasp softly as he applies gentle, but firm pressure to your neck as you get a headrush from the pressure. 
“Excellent darling, shall we reward you for being such a good little pet?”
You let out a ragged moan and buck your hips to rub his cock against your opening forcing a guttural moan from the vampire’s chest.
His hand leaves your back to slowly guide his shaft into your wetness and his grip on your neck tightens ever so slightly; you moan as you feel his length slowly filling you up; you cry out as he reaches his hilt as his balls lightly press against your folds. His hand returns to your lower back as he deliberately pulls back and you feel the pressure release from where he was just filling you completely.  You try to push back onto him, but his hands are holding you firmly in place.
“Tut tut little lamb, we’re going to be slow and deliberate yes?”
He mercifully stops just short of pulling out entirely, before he pushes back into you; you try to moan, but his grip around your throat leaves you gasping in pleasure. He continues moving in and out of you at a leisurely pace that makes you both hyperaware of every inch of his cock while he continues to fuck you.  His hand leaves your lower back as he wraps it around your waist and pulls you into his lap, so you sink down onto his cock.  You let out a stifled scream of pleasure as he leans back and you move your legs and feel your knees drive into the soft fur of the bedroll. His hand loosens up on your neck as he focuses his strength into quickening, powerful thrusts as he holds your waist in place with his free hand.  You can feel the hot energy twisting the pit of your stomach with excitement and pleasure as his thrust become harder and faster.
“Star-” you choke out his name, but he cuts you off, panting harshly as he thrusts into you hard as ever, and you can feel his length begin to twitch inside you.
“Come for me darling.”
His deep hoarse voice sends you flying over the edge as you feel yourself shudder and come undone as he lets out a loud groan and you feel the warm pulse of his orgasm mix with yours, both of you shivering with stimulation until you finally feel him slip out of you; leaving the wet pleasure to drip from your core down your thighs as you collapse backwards into your rogue’s awaiting arms.  He lets out a soft chuckle as he kisses your temple and rubs up and down your side.
You sit silently for a few moments, just enjoying his cool body as you glisten with sweat from your passionate exchange.
“Star?”
“Yes love?”
“Have I told you I find your interest in literature rather charming?”
He scoffs, failing to hide his amusement behind his eye roll. “Perhaps we should start a book club?”
------------------
If you read the whole thing ily and we're friends now and thank you so much! Please send feedback, questions, requests, and/or memes to my ask box and I will keep on writing :) -Lib
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asumofwords · 1 year ago
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The Sublet - Roommate!AU
Warnings: She/her pronouns, slow burn, angst. Tags will be added as the fic goes along. Angst.
Pairings: Modern!Aemond x Reader
Summary: Living with Helaena Targaryen was one of the best decisions you had ever made. Meeting at university, the two of you became thick as thieves and quickly best friends, moving into a flat together. But what will happen when Helaena has to leave, and her quiet, brooding, brother moves in?
Notes: Oh lordy, we all need a friend like Helaena don't we? She is just such a sweet angel. Here is the next chapter, hehe. Enjoy <3
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Chapter 12: The Red Keep
The flight to the Red Keep was quick, and you had been almost horrified when the driver had driven you onto the tarmac at the airport and up to a small jet. Your eyes had widened, and the driver had to insist on you getting out of the car and into the private plane. 
You had sent Helaena some nervous texts, promising to pay her back, feeling guilty about how much it would have cost, to which she had replied that it was Viserys’ money and he had plenty of it.
It did little to quell the guilt that built within you, but you thanked her profusely in the air anyway, wifi available on the flight. 
It felt weird to be surrounded by sudden wealth, Helaena never usually opting to use it and making her own way in life. If this was what she had at her fingertips, you wondered why she didn’t use the convenience of it more often. 
But then again, you grew up with no money, and she didn’t. This could be as mundane as a bus trip to her.
The flight would have been barely over an hour long, and when you had landed, you were met by a sleek black Mercedes on the small and private landing strip amongst rolling green hills. 
Criston Cole sat in the driver seat, a tanned man with dark curly hair and darker brown eyes, dressed head to toe in a black uniform, greeting you politely by your last name as he took your bag for you, putting it in the boot swiftly before opening the door for you to get in.
The Keep was situated outside of the city, a large estate on many acres of land, surrounded by sea, rolling green hills and forests. It was a historical site that had been passed down through the Targaryen family for hundreds of years, with almost a hundred rooms within to match. They even had their own private botanical garden with the rarest of plants within, that housed one of the oldest trees in Westeros.
It was extravagant, and you felt a sudden sense of anxiety as you drove up a long and winding path, large gates opening automatically as you jiggled your leg in your seat. The Keep towered atop a hill, red brick work looking like they had been soaked in blood in the dark of the night as the car rolled up, headlights shining at two large wooden doors to the entrance. 
Helaena was standing in the spotlight, large slippers on her feet and oversized lavender sleep shirt sliding off of one shoulder. When you jumped out of the car she let you walk to her quickly, throwing yourself into her arms as she held you, soothing your back as tears threatened to fall once more, apologising meekly into her neck.
“Shhh,” She cooed, gentle fingers running along your spine, “You’ve done nothing wrong. I could never be mad at you.”
“But I-“
“-I’m mad at my brother. Not you. Let’s get some sleep, hm?”
You let Helaena drag you up through the Keep, Criston following closely behind with your bag. You had tried to turn and take it from him, but he had given you a stern glare with his handsome face, insisting he carry it for you.
The walls of the Targaryen’s Keep were tall and made of stone, various portraits of Targaryen ancestors strung on the walls, and tapestries of art from across the years and realms hanging delicately for decor. You couldn’t help but notice some newer editions to the Keep, heavy green works and sigils of the Seven Pointed Star that almost outnumbered the Valyrian traditions.
When you reached Helaena’s room, it was larger than your entire apartment. It had four poster bed with draped lavender and cream curtains in the centre, and its own sitting room. A writing desk was pushed into the corner on a far wall near a large stone fireplace. She guided you to sit on the bed, taking your bag from Criston before she thanked him and dismissed him for the night.
“I’m sorry-“
“Shh.” Helaena’s voice came out sharper, “Go to sleep, bug. I don’t want to hear another apology from you, okay?”
The way she spoke reminded you so much of Aemond. 
You nodded sadly, and pulled back the sheets, crawling beneath before Helaena joined you, turning the lights off as she settled against her pillow. She let you cry beside her, and stroked a soothing hand up and down your arm. 
Eventually the both of you fell to sleep, too exhausted to stay awake or cry any longer.
When you woke the next morning, it was to light streaming into the room from Helaena’s sheer curtains, the bright suns rays warming the room already. You stirred, looking beside you to find Helaena already awake and on her phone.
She turned her head to look at you, scrunching her nose, “You snore.”
Your mouth gaped, “I do not.” You blushed, feeling embarrassed.
Helaena hummed cheekily, before her face turned more serious, “How are you feeling?”
“Like shit.” You grumbled, tummy aching as you remembered your forgotten noodles uneaten and left behind in your room.
An uneasy quiet settled around you as she watched your face, phone set flat against her chest as she took you in. Her lilac eyes bored into your own, and you fought the urge to not wriggle in the spot.
“Do you love him?” Helaena asked abruptly and you felt your mouth turn dry.
Love him?
Did you?
It was too soon to tell.
But there was no denying there was something powerful that you felt for her brother.
“I don’t know.” You said quietly, and Helaena looked at you as if she knew the answer herself. 
The silver haired woman shifted in the bed, sitting up before she ripped the sheets away from you, “Right. No more moping. You had one night and one night only for the sad girl special.”
You looked at her incredulously.
“Hel, what the Hell?”
“You hungry?” She ignored your comment, crawling out of bed, stretching high on her toes to stretch her spine, long arms in the air.
Helaena was giving you an out.
A distraction.
And so you took it.
“Starved.” You chirped back, though the tone fell flatter than you intended.
Helaena turned around and lifted a brow at you, “Come on, let’s go eat before the boys demolish everything in sight.”
You nodded in agreement, going to stand before you followed her down to a large open kitchen at the bottom, back doors opening up to a grassy garden which led to a tiled area with chairs and tables littered here and there. A creamy white gazebo was seen a few ways away, and the sitting area bled into a large swimming pool, spa nestled beside it.
“Woah.”
Helaena, noticing your eye line scoffed, “I know right? Talk about gaudy. Mum had the pool upgraded. Not that she needed too. It’s only her, and she doesn’t even use it.”
Two chefs moved about the kitchen quickly, large island in the centre being gradually filled with food of all kinds. Pastries, meats, breads, fruits, eggs. It was almost a buffet style.
You felt strangely out of place. 
“Morning.” Helaena greeted the two chefs, to which they turned and nodded 'morning' back to her. Her face met yours and she grimaced.
You were glad she felt just as uneasy as you. 
At least you had each other. 
You grabbed a plate, following Helaena and piled it full of food that you wanted to eat, asking your friend where you could make some tea. Hel pointed you to a kettle, and you felt grateful that you would be able to make your own tea for breakfast. Though there was a sting in knowing that a certain silver haired man hadn’t done it for you.
“Good morning, girls.” A voice chirped from behind you, and you turned to face the auburn haired woman you had come to know well.
“Morning mum.” Helaena returned, eyes not lifting from where she piled another pancake upon her already high stack.
Alicent Hightower stood in a green dress shirt, darker green blazer thrown over the top, matched with a pair of black slacks and heels. She wore a dark red lipstick and gold jewellery, nails matching her lips. 
You couldn’t help but notice a similarity between her and Alys, but shrugged it away.
“Y/n,” Her hands were held in front of her, “I’m so glad you could make it.”
Alicent stepped forward to kiss at the air beside both of your cheeks, a blush rising along your neck as you awkwardly and stiffly returned it. Her long curly hair was pulled back away from her face with a butterfly clip at the back of her head, and against her chest was a Seven Pointed Star.
You shook your head, “Thank you for having me. I’m sorry I-“
“-None of that.” She chastised in a motherly way, “You are always welcome here at any time.”
You wet your lips and nodded, “Thank you.”
“It has been a while since I saw you last. I trust you know your way around?”
“Kind of.”
“Not to worry, Helaena can make sure you don’t get lost.”
Helaena groaned, and Alicent shifted on her feet.
“I’m leaving for the day, have some work I need wrapped up.” 
Your lips parted, about to apologise for leaving your job on such short notice. 
A job at her firm no less.
She eyed your sudden shift and dismissed you, “No need to worry about this week, I have already informed Larys you are on carers leave for family business here.”
Carers leave?
But that was paid leave.
“Alicent I-“
Her look stopped you in your tracks. 
There was no arguing.
“Thank you.” You said again, feeling sheepish and all too overwhelmed with both her and Helaena’s generosity.
She nodded as though she approved of the way you had responded, as if it was the way that you should have responded, as though it was a response that had been written down in a book to be studied, ‘Duty to guests and hosts.’ 
Alicent Hightower stepped over to Helaena to kiss her cheek. You watched as her daughter shied away from it slightly, but allowed it nonetheless with a stiff spine. 
“Behave.” She warned her, before casting you one last smile, “If you need anything, let Criston know." And then she set off with a click of her heels.
Helaena rolled her eyes, grabbing her stack of pancakes as you finished making your tea. 
You both made your way outside to sit at a large table, eating your breakfast with hungry speed. It was a beautiful day. The sun shone warmly down on you, the sounds of birds was loud in the distant trees, and the softest of breezes rolled over your bare arms and legs.
“So, did you bring your swimmers?” Helaena asked, mouth full of pancakes.
You nodded in affirmation, “Uh huh.”
“Good,” She smiled, “We can claim the pool first if we hurry.”
“Claim? Hel, It's huge.”
She swallowed the chunk of pancake she had been chewing on, syrup on the corner of her lip that she licked off with a quick swipe of her tongue, “Yeah, and the boys have been having a pissing war with each other, calling dibs on the pool. It’s been driving me insane.”
You laughed softly, imaging Aegon and Daeron bickering amongst themselves, “Is Jace and Luc here yet?”
Helaena smiled, “Yeah, and they’re the worst of all.” She snickered, “Can’t know a moment of peace with those two. They’re so chatty. Not that Aegon helps. Daeron is more observing than usual which is nice.”
You were excited at the prospect of seeing Luc and Jace again, but you worried that the news of your arrival, the reasoning behind it would only cause more family rifts than there already were. 
“Don’t worry," Helaena began, her sixth sense picking up on your sudden quiet, “I won’t tell anyone what’s happened, okay?”
You nodded, “Okay.”
Helaena swiped a finger through the syrup on her plate. How she managed to inhale all seven pancakes in one sitting amazed you. She brought the sticky digit to her lips which she sucked clean.
“Let’s get changed and have a pool day!” She beamed, and her excitement rubbed onto you. 
-
You laid in the sun for hours side by side, intermittently jumping into the pool to cool off. 
Helaena told you about how her dad was doing, and from the sound of it, they expected him to pass any day now, which made you feel selfish in having intruded on their pre-mourning. But Helaena had shrugged, and told you that he had been sick for a very long time, most had already mourned his loss despite him still being there. It was a waiting game. And each morning they waited with bated breath to see if he would rise from his sleep.
It was brutal, but honest. 
Warmth spread over your body as you laid on your back in a pool chair, the heat of the sun almost pulling you into a nap from how comforting it was. It was nice to not be at work, and to be away from your apartment. To have a moment of respite and relaxation.
A shadow crossed over your body, and you frowned. 
Damn cloud.
“Boo.” 
You shrieked, jumping up from where you lay, eyes wide and darting up to a short silver head of hair, wild smile on his lips. 
Aegon.
“Egg, you prick.” Helaena groused, turning onto her side to look up at her brother, book long forgotten and large floppy hat tilted sideways on her head.
You sat up higher in the chair, looking up at Aegon as he smiled down at you, “Miss me?” He teased, waggling his brows at you.
You pulled a face. 
He was in his swim shorts and nothing else. 
Aegon was wider, stockier, and shorter than Aemond or the other siblings, who seemed to be made of long, graceful limbs. And Aegon was anything but graceful. His face was softer too, looking much more Alicent than any of them did. 
Aemond was the outlier with his sharp jaw and nose.
“Like a hole in the head.” You teased back, standing to hug him tightly. 
His embrace was warm, snug, and not at all as flirtatious as it once had been. 
“Enjoying the Palace goodies?”
“Go away.” Helaena whined, falling back onto her back, long groan pushed out of her chest. 
“Am I not allowed to say hello to our guest?”
“You’ve said hello. Now say goodbye. It’s our pool today.”
Aegon mock gasped, and you had to chew your cheek to not laugh, “What would mother dearest say? ‘Sharing is caring, Helaena.’”
The silver haired woman huffed, “You share a bit too much…” She grumbled quietly.
“What was that?”
A slender hand lifted and presented a solitary finger in Aegon’s direction. 
His laugh was contagious. 
Aegon sat himself down in the chair beside you, catching up on the both of your lives, bar your recent escapades with his brother, and you learnt that Aegon was considering studying at Kings Landing University but was undecided on what he wanted to do.
You watched as he eventually pulled himself to stand, looking down at you, “You coming in?” He asked, hand held out to you in invitation. 
“Nah, not yet. In a minute though.”
“Lame.”
Aegon ran and jumped, diving, ungracefully, into the water with a large splash near the edge, though it was more like a belly flop with arms that bent downwards to enter the water first. Water splashed out of the pool and small droplets landed on you, where as a large splash crashed onto Helaena. 
“Ah!” She cried, “You fucking asshole!”
Aegon came up, tossing his wet hair away from his face with a laugh, smirk pulling on his lips as he came up to the edge slowly. There was no denying that he was handsome, white teeth peeking through soft pink lips.
Helaena sat upright, “No.” 
Aegon’s smirk only widened.
“Aegon, don’t you fucking dare.”
His violet gaze flicked to you and then back to his sister. 
His mind was made up. 
His arm crashed against the surface of the water, sending it flying at Helaena. 
It soaked her in her seat, frustrated growl falling from her lips as she stood, throwing her soggy hat to the side. 
Aegon’s smirk dropped. 
You couldn’t control your laughter, stomach clenching as you watched Helaena jump nearly on top of Aegon’s head as he tried to swim away from her, her hands slapping at him and pulling his hair childishly. 
“Okay, okay, okay!! Mercy!” He cried, finally throwing Helaena from his back and into the water again. 
She emerged with a scowl, wet hair slicked backwards, “Douchebag. You ruined my book.”
“Buy another.”
“Ugh.”
“Did you see mother this morning?” Aegon looked at you finally, swimming over to you as he watched you sit on the waters edge, legs dangling into the pool. 
You nodded. 
“Oh good.” He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes, “She was worried she wouldn’t catch you. The twins will be here soon.”
“Thank the Gods.” Helaena praised, “I need a break from you and the boys stench.”
Aegon frowned, “Who says we stink?”
Helaena dipped her head into the water, sucking some into her cheeks as she spat it at her brothers face, his hand coming to shield it poorly, “Me.”
Aegon turned to face you again, “Do you see how mean she is to me? How do you even stand her?”
You smirked, biting at your bottom lip, “I don’t know what your talking about.”
His eyes narrowed, “The Stranger will get you for your lies and deceit.”
You spent the rest of the day in the sun, Aegon settling beside the two of you, his presence clearly annoying his sister, but you acted as a buffer and indulged him in minor conversation. Daeron had joined you a while later, and you had hugged him tightly to you.
When the day grew long and you had spent more than enough time in the suns rays, Helaena took you back to her room and the ensuite joined to it, insisting you shower and get yourself ready for some dinner. 
You washed your hair, running shampoo through it to get the smell of chlorine out. Helaena jumped in straight after, talking to you as you began to put some light makeup on in the large mirror at the double sinked basin. 
This was something you had missed in her absence. Getting ready together, talking and chatting mindlessly, playing music as loud as possible as the both of you sang as loudly as you could. You didn’t know just how much you had missed her until that moment, and a wave of sadness crashed over you. 
She wasn’t the only person you missed. 
Your mind strayed to Aemond. You wondered what he was doing. How he was feeling. You wondered if Alys was back in your apartment now that you were gone. 
Did she stay the night?
Was she in his bed with him?
Did she-
“Oi. Cut it out.” Helaena’s voice broke you out of your revery. 
She was wrapped in her towel, cheeks flushed pink from the sun and hair dripping down her back. 
You smiled at her sheepishly, “Sorry.”
“If I hear you say sorry once more, I’ll drown you in the pool.”
You held your hands up in surrender as she came beside you at the mirror, pulling down her skin care to rub moisturiser into her face and body. 
“What are you wearing tonight?” She asked you, long pale finger rubbing circles into her cheek as her lilac eyes locked onto your face in the mirror.
“Dunno. Something casual?”
Helaena screwed the lid of her moisturiser back on before putting it in its spot on the shelf, “Hmm. No. Wear something nice. A cute dress. Tonight we are letting loose.”
You chuckled at her, brushing mascara over your eyelashes, “I don’t need to dress up to let loose.”
“No, but I’m not having you mope about. Got enough of that as is from my mother and Eggy. Dress up for me,” She turned to you, putting on her best puppy dog eyes, bottom lip sticking out, “Please.”
Shaking your head you snickered, “Fine. So needy.”
“Yes!”
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Thanks so much for reading along with me, if you wish to be added to the tag list please let me know :) Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ! Enjoy <3
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charmandabear · 1 month ago
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Office Hours: you can rent the space inside my mind (1/16)
Pairing: Astarion/named f!Tav Rating: explicit Word Count: 4k Chapter tags/warnings: vaginal masturbation, imagined face sitting, pegging, vague femdom (full list on ao3)
Summary:
After bickering with her about Shakespeare's better plays and rudely interrupting her meeting with her student, Rosalind can't get that stupid Ancunín out of her head.
She's hereeeeeeeee!!!!!! A several months long project, but she's all done, which means that (hopefully) I'll be regularly releasing chapters once a week. I received so much direct and indirect support on this, but I want to give a special shout out to Nyx ( @editing-by-night ) for being such a patient and dedicated editor.
Next chapter ~ Read it on AO3 ~ Masterlist Office Hours playlist on Spotify
There’s something about him that rubs Rosalind the wrong way. It could be his arrogance, or the condescending way he peers over his glasses. It might be the overpriced cashmere turtlenecks that hug his figure perfectly or the stupid silver earrings adorning his stupid pointy ears. But every time he opens his pretty little mouth, she can feel a snarl growing deep in her throat.
When she first started her position as the Classical Acting professor at Baldur’s Gate University, Rosalind was shocked to learn that the English and Theatre departments share a main office. She’s heard of Theatre and Music departments sharing an office, or even universities where Theatre and Dance have merged into a single department. But Theatre and English? It feels insulting, honestly. English PhDs are some of the snobbiest people she’s ever met, and they always speak to her like she’s a child. Is it because they’re unimpressed by her MFA, as though it makes her less deserving of her position? Who knows. But Astarion Ancunín is no different.
“Hope, would you mind making twelve copies of pages 219-255 when you get a chance?” Rosalind hands the administrative assistant the heavy book. “You can leave them in my mailbox, I’ll pick them up later.” Hope opens the book to the instructed page.
“Oh, Much Ado About Nothing! I love that one!” she squeals with delight. “That Beatrice and Benedick are so perfect for one another,” she sighs, stroking the Complete Works lovingly. Her almost childlike joy at the play makes Rosalind smile.
“They are, they’re just a strict upgrade from Kate and Petruchio,” she agrees, leaning forward on the counter in front of Hope’s desk.
“How tragic that his writing in Taming is better.” Rosalind snaps her eyes to where Ancunín is walking in checking something on his phone. He doesn’t even look up as he inserts himself into their conversation. Rosalind grits her teeth to stop a snide remark from weaseling its way out. He slides his phone back into the pocket of his well-tailored emerald green trousers and looks up at Hope, bypassing Rosalind completely.
“Good morning, Hope darling, how are you today?” He sweeps over to her and takes her hand in his, planting a kiss on her knuckles. Gods he’s fucking insufferable. Not to mention unprofessional. Hope, however, blushes and giggles like a schoolgirl.
“I’m very well, Dr. Ancunín, and yourself?” Her voice jumps up several pitches.
“Leagues better now that I’ve been blessed with your presence,” he coos at her, voice positively saccharine. It takes every ounce of Rosalind’s patience to keep from rolling her eyes.
“Dr. Ancunín, you silly little mouse, you can’t say that!” A bright flush crosses Hope’s freckled cheeks. She closes the Complete Works and starts playing with her red braid nervously. “Tell me, then, why is the writing in Taming of the Shrew better?”
“Well the dialogue is sharper, for one. The banter between Kate and Petruchio in Act II scene i may be some of his cleverest.” He takes a cloth out of his shirt pocket and uses it to clean his glasses. “But moreover Shakespeare was at the very start of his career when he wrote it. A budding young writer at the height of the English Renaissance, he had some awfully big shoes to fill: Christopher Marlowe, John Lyly, and the like.” His gaze briefly touches on Rosalind while he puts his glasses on. Then he looks back at Hope as he continues, “Much Ado, however, he wrote more towards the middle of his career. Still brilliant, of course, but he had much less to prove.”
Rosalind bristles as she tries to not audibly groan at his pretentiousness. “He had strengths as a writer other than just his wit, though,” she interjects. “The characterization of Beatrice and Benedick is significantly stronger than Kate and Petruchio. Not to mention it’s, you know, not an abusive relationship.” She bites her tongue to keep herself from getting too heated. She’s gotten into far too many arguments with male academics on this exact subject and she doesn’t have time to get into another one.
Ancunín moves his gaze over to Rosalind — for an instant she thinks he steals a quick glance at her chest and she stands abruptly. Fucking pig. A smug smile touches his lips before morphing into something more cordial. “That is correct, yes. Are you starting your study of the play with your students?”
Rosalind shifts uncomfortably under his piercing red gaze. “Yes, it’s a great way for them to practice switching between verse and prose,” she responds coolly, as though she’s bracing herself for an attack.
“Well of course, some of the best prose of his career.” He glances down at the volume on Hope’s desk and his eyebrows raise, peering over the top of his round glasses. “Going with the Bevington, hmm? Interesting. I’m more of a Norton man, myself.” He runs a manicured finger along the binding as Rosalind bites her tongue so hard she can taste blood. Is he really patronizing her over her choice of edition of Shakespeare’s Complete Works? Of course he is, he’s an English scholar.
“The Norton is a great tool dramaturgically, but the Bevington is a much better resource for actors, so, yes.” Her voice is steady but there’s an undeniable venom in it. Can he tell how much he’s bothering her? Probably, he’s almost certainly getting enjoyment out of riling her up. His little smirk would seem to suggest it, at least.
“Well certainly, and who knows acting resources better than our resident classical acting expert?” he intones, voice still dripping with honey. Rosalind narrows her eyes at him, unsure if he’s taking another jab at her degree. Hope hides a giggle behind her hand.
“Look at you two, practically a real life Beatrice and Benedick,” she sings, and this time Rosalind can’t hide her grimace.
“Well, as much as I enjoy standing around and debating the merit of various editions of the Complete Works, I’m about to be late for a meeting. Hope, thank you so much, I’ll be back later to pick up those copies. Dr. Ancunín,” she turns towards him with a snide smile and he looks back at her innocently. “A pleasure, as always.” She grabs her papers and walks out of the office, feeling the heat of his gaze boring into the back of her head as she leaves.
***
There was a time when Rosalind enjoyed season selection. But now it’s just a tedious process where no one can agree and everyone somehow ends up with shows they hate. To make it worse, the department chair tries to turn it into a fun little game every year.
“Now then, I want everyone to take a stack of index cards and write down your suggested plays and/or musicals. Be sure to include the name, playwright or playwrights, and a short summary.” Volo enthusiastically hands out stacks of colorful index cards to everyone on the season selection committee. Everyone begins to write down their suggestions, but Rosalind can’t keep her mind from wandering.
Something about Hope comparing her and Ancunín to Beatrice and Benedick is really getting under her skin. Maybe because if he wasn’t such a pretentious asshole, she feels like they might get along fairly well. His assessment that Shakespeare was trying to prove himself at the beginning of his career is brilliant, but why did he need to say it in the most obnoxious way possible?
She thinks back on the first time she met him. She had just started working at BGU and was in the middle of teaching a Beginner Acting class. The students were circled up playing Zip Zap Zop and suddenly there was a knock on the studio door. Rosalind stepped out of the circle and opened the door and the sight of him knocked the wind out of her. A tall, lithe, handsome elf with perfectly windswept silver hair, a baby blue button down with the first few buttons undone and the sleeves rolled up, and tight navy blue trousers.
She could immediately feel the blood rushing to her face.
“Dr. Geddarm told me he hired a new professor of Shakespeare, so I thought it fitting to introduce myself.” He flashed a devastating smile and stuck out his hand. Rosalind shook it in a daze. “Astarion Ancunín, professor of Renaissance Literature.”
“Oh, hi, nice to meet you,” she squeaked out, embarrassed by the way her voice cracked. “I’m, um, Rosalind Tavlin,” she adds quickly, then curses internally — he already knows that, clearly.
“I believe my office is just down the corridor from yours, so please don’t hesitate to stop by if you have any questions, whether about the university or, well, Renaissance Literature.” And then he giggled, an oddly whimsical sound for someone who otherwise seemed so refined. Rosalind blinked, trying to figure out if he had just insulted her or not.
“I will, thanks,” she responded, trying to scramble out of the stupor he left her in. She closed the door and turned back to her students, feeling incredibly self-conscious about how bright red her cheeks were. She stepped off to the side to take a deep sip from her water bottle before re-entering the circle. “Alright, let’s do a quick shake down and then we’ll start.”
“Rosalind?” Volo’s voice breaks through her memory and she blinks to bring herself back to the stuffy classroom. He’s collecting everyone’s index cards and she realizes that she hasn’t written down a single suggestion.
“Oh, sorry, I’m just a little out of it today,” she excuses lamely. “I’ll have more ideas next time, I promise.” He raises his eyebrow suspiciously but moves on to collect the rest of the index cards.
***
Rosalind returns to her office to see one of her sophomore students hovering outside the closed door.
“I’m so sorry, Thaniel, I had a meeting that ran long. Come on in,” she says hurriedly, unlocking the door and quickly setting her things down. He sits in the teal club chair across from her desk, dropping his overfull backpack onto the floor beside it. “So, Hamlet, that’s ambitious! I think it’s a good choice for you, but it’ll be a lot of work. Do you have your copy with the scansion?”
He nods and unzips his backpack, rifling through an absurd number of papers. He pulls out a well worn single sheet of paper with printed lines of the monologue and his pencil scratches above each line indicating stressed and unstressed syllables.
“Yeah, this is good, it looks like you’ve gotten most of it,” she says as she looks over the marks. “So what is it you’re having an issue with?”
“I still don’t think I fully understand what he’s saying, and I know you said how important that is,” he says nervously.
“For sure, I can guarantee all of the bad Shakespeare you’ve seen has been because the actors had no idea what they were saying. Have you used the Lexicon?” Thaniel looks off to the side, embarrassed.
“No, I don’t really get how that works either,” he says, an air of chagrin creeping into his voice.
“No worries, it takes practice. Here, we’ll do a few lines together. So first off, ‘To be or not to be,’ that’s a line we hear a lot in pop culture, but do you know what he’s actually contemplating?” Thaniel shakes his head. “He’s trying to figure out if it’s worth it for him to continue being, or you know, living.” Rosalind hands him his paper back and pulls a copy of Hamlet off her bookshelf, quickly flipping it open to Act III Scene 1.
“So when he says, ‘To take arms against a sea of troubles/And by opposing, end them,’ What’s ‘them’ referring to?”
“The sea of troubles?”
“Right, and what does he mean by that?” Rosalind waits patiently while the gears in Thaniel’s head turn.
“Is it like… the sea of troubles, like everything going on? And he wants to end them, by… taking arms? What does that mean?”
“To take arms, like armory, so to fight.”
“Oh! He’s thinking about killing himself?” Thaniel’s eyes light up, a stark contrast to the dark material they’re discussing.
“Precisely. So even though you might know what each of these words mean individually, you should look all of them up in the Lexicon to get a better understanding of their context. But you’re right, he’s trying to figure out if it’s better to suffer through all of the things that make life shitty, or to take his fate into his own hands and, well, end them.” Rosalind stands to grab the Lexicon off her bookshelf when a voice pipes up from the doorway.
“That’s not exactly what he’s saying, you know.”
She grabs the shelf to keep herself from tearing the book in half. She plasters a strained smile on her face as she turns around to face him. “Dr. Ancunín, thank you for gracing us with your presence. Care to elaborate?”
He’s leaning in the doorway, arms crossed, face in shadows. Rosalind’s office is unusually dark because of the storm outside, and so the bright fluorescents in the hallway give him an almost ethereal halo effect.
“It’s a common misconception that Hamlet is contemplating suicide here. Life and death, sure, but ‘to take arms’ isn’t metaphorical, it’s literal. He’s contemplating dying as a result of killing Claudius, not taking his own life,” he says, almost sounding bored. Rosalind slams the Lexicon down on her desk, causing Thaniel to jump slightly.
“How can that possibly be true?” she spits, trying desperately to keep her voice from shaking. “He says ‘to take arms against a sea of troubles.’ He’s using the active voice, deciding whether or not to continue his life or end it. To be or not to be. It’s the first line in the monologue. He’s not talking about the consequences of killing Claudius.” She knows that she doesn’t sound nearly as eloquent as him, and it’s pissing her off. He shrugs nonchalantly.
“You’re oversimplifying it, it’s exceedingly more complicated than that. The whole soliloquy is filled with war imagery. He’s at war with himself, the part of him that wants to kill Claudius and the part of him that is afraid to die.” He pushes himself off the door frame and steps back into the hallway. “But apologies, please don’t let me interrupt your instruction.” And like that he’s off, leaving Rosalind to stew in silence. Thaniel looks up at her and looks back at the doorway where he stood.
“Should I…” he starts, but she cuts him off with a wave of her hand, sighing heavily before answering.
“Dr. Ancunín comes at analysis from a very different angle as an English academic. He’s more interested in the words on the page and gives little to no consideration as to how they might translate to performance. But,” she sighs again, loath to give him any credit, “it’s a valid interpretation. We can go down that route, if you want, or we can look at it through this lens.” Thaniel chews his lip while he considers his options.
“I think what you said makes more sense, the suicide bit,” he finally decides.
“I agree, especially since that was your first instinct, and it’s important to listen to those,” she smiles at her student, swallowing the burning hatred for Ancunín threatening to bubble over. “Let’s go over how to use the Lexicon again.” She opens the book and flips through it, looking for the entry for ‘slings.’
***
Rosalind drops off her bag and tosses her keys into a bowl on the counter. This day has been fucking exhausting. She unzips her boots and places them neatly atop the shoe rack, stretching and curling her toes for relief. She hangs up her wet coat and shakes rain from her blue and purple hair, silently cursing the need to restyle it. Her eyes dart between the refrigerator, wherein resides a bottle of white wine, and the bathroom door, contemplating how good a hot bath would feel. Both? Both is good.
She pours herself a generous glass of Riesling, taking a gulp before heading to the bathroom to undress. She peels off her sweater followed by her tights and skirt, shivering as goosebumps traverse her skin in a wave. It’s one of those late-Hammer storms where everything is just slush and ice, and the damp cold penetrates Rosalind’s bones. She unhooks her bra and her breasts fall free, her nipples almost painfully hard. She hangs up her clothes to dry and sits naked on the edge of the tub, sipping her wine as the bath fills.
Fucking Ancunín.
She’s a little alarmed by how much he got under her skin today. Normally she doesn’t think twice about him, save maybe the one or two times she has the misfortune of passing him in the hallway.
Why did Hope have to compare them to Beatrice and Benedick? If anything they’re much more like Kate and Petruchio, and Rosalind refuses to let that asshole break her.
And ugh all that nonsense about “To be or not to be.” Rosalind doesn’t even particularly like Hamlet that much, so she’s mostly annoyed that his interpretation is, well, good. His read actually makes Hamlet an interesting character instead of just a cowardly incel romanticizing suicide.
She turns off the faucet and slides into the bath, hissing slightly as the hot water flows over her chilled skin. She leans back and settles herself comfortably in an attempt to relax. Without prompting, Ancunín worms his way back into her thoughts. Hmmph. She takes a gulp of wine to try to wash away the taste of the unpleasant image.
Well… not entirely unpleasant. He’s a good looking man, she’d be a fool to deny it. But gods he’s so smug. She thinks about the way he caressed the Complete Works with his red painted nails. As though he thinks he’s making some sort of bold feminist statement being a man who paints his nails. Ugh. Rosalind leans her head against the edge of the tub, trying to focus her thoughts elsewhere. He’s not about to monopolize her precious time again, and when he’s not even present, no less.
But there he is, in her mind, crimson eyes looking over the top of those metal frame glasses that she’s, like, 99% sure he doesn’t actually need to see. She takes another swig of wine to drown out his stupid face. With his stupid cheekbones. And his dumb fucking earrings that she wants to take between her teeth and—
Nine hells, what is wrong with you? It’s the wine, clearly, she’s been drinking too quickly and isn’t thinking straight. She grabs her phone and opens Spotify, letting her daily mix play through the bluetooth speaker on the counter.
Now Playing: Hatefuck by The Bravery.
If I put my hands around your wrists, would you fight them? If I put my fingers in your mouth, would you bite them?
By all of the fucking gods, seriously? She growls at the growing heat between her legs. Between putting off dinner and chugging her wine, her head is swimming. She groans audibly; she might be better off getting it out of her system if it’s going to be this pervasive. The wine glass hits the tub edge with a clank as she angrily puts it down and sinks into the water up to her chin. She’s satiating a purely physical need, nothing else.
Nevertheless, Rosalind still shivers as she slips her hand between her legs, lightly running her finger up her slit. She can picture his face, looking down at her through those glasses — those infuriating glasses — and her lips flutter. She wonders what he looks like under those sweaters. He’s so thin, but his clothes fit incredibly well. It’s not hard to imagine a chiseled body underneath. She spreads her legs further to let the warm water tickle her folds.
His silvery curls would look so good between her legs, slender fingers wrapped around her thick thighs while he laps her up. At least then he’d shut up. A gentle moan escapes her throat as she runs her middle finger along her inner lips, pretending it’s his tongue. He could look up at her, those red eyes boring into her while sucks on her clit. She imagines herself grabbing hold of those perfect locks, yanking on them to control where he goes, fucking his face while he groans into her pussy, happy to just be along for the ride.
She moves her other hand up to her breast and starts teasing her already hard nipple. She massages around its peak, pulling it under the water and feeling his soft lips around it. She gives it a gentle tug and groans as though he gave it a little nip.
She imagines sitting on his pretty face, his pointed ears flushed and hair a mess. Her hips buck into her hand as they might on top of him and her toes curl. She makes gentle circles around her clit, thinking of all the other uses for his silver tongue. She whines and squirms at the sensations of heat radiating through her body. She slips a finger inside and hisses as she can see those pale digits entering her cunt. She gyrates on her hand, curling her finger upwards and gasping, his imaginary eyes looking up at her through those long lashes and a smirk playing across his imaginary lips.
“Are you ready for more of me, darling?” She can hear his velvety purr in her ear.
“Yes, gods yes,” she replies breathlessly into the cold bathroom air. She slides another finger in and feels that delicious stretch. The ghost of him moans, coming undone at the sight of her. She delights in the prospect of leaving him speechless, for once. She whimpers under her own touch, wanting more, wanting to feel him fuck her.
She reaches over the edge of the tub and grabs her box of waterproof toys. She frantically sifts through the collection of dildos, trying to find the right one. Here. It’s long and svelte like the rest of him, but bright shimmery purple. She suctions it to the bottom of the tub and hovers above it on her knees. It sways lightly in the water, tip of it teasing her pussy just like she’d love to do to him.
Gods, what she wouldn’t do to see him beg for her cunt. To reduce him to a babbling mess, pleading to let him inside her. Her breath quickens at the mental image of him whining needily beneath her as she teases his cock mercilessly. He’d still wait patiently, of course, he wouldn’t dare disobey, but oh he’d be so desperate for her to satisfy him. She sinks down onto the dildo and her groan of pleasure mirrors what she wants to hear from him.
She begins to slide herself on the purple dick, feeling its ridges glide against the walls of her cunt as she continues to finger her clit. She imagines her hand splayed across his chest, her black nails standing in contrast against his pale skin. She claws at the bottom of the tub as she increases her pace, desperate to see the raised pink skin that her nails leave behind. The fingers on her clit speed up as well, and she can feel herself getting close.
“Oh gods, Astarion, don’t stop,” the words tumble from her mouth unbidden. She will absolutely hate herself for that later, but right now all that matters is her ecstasy. She bounces atop the dildo, disregarding the water that splashes over the side of the tub as she chases her finish. Her moans increase in pitch and fervor as the various images of him in all sorts of positions flash through her mind. Between her thighs, sitting on his face, riding his dick, even fucking pegging him from behind while she milks his cock in her hand, his cum dribbling down her wrist.
“Fuck, Astarion!” She cries out his name as she crashes over the edge, her walls clenching around the dildo and her vision growing starry. Her orgasm reverberates throughout her whole body as she rides it out, legs shaking and pussy pulsing. Eventually, her movement slows and the water gently sways around her. She looks down at her hand, milky juices swirling in the now tepid tub water.
Shit.
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romanticgremlin · 11 months ago
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Wants And Needs.
------------------------
Summary: Sebastian discovers your choice of reading material is rather lewd and proposes a proposition.
BE AWARE: NSFW, ALL CHARATCTERS ARE 18+
This will be a 5-6 part FWB to lovers fic. Pining, oral s*x, first time, Sebastian is a switch and so is MC, slight breeding kink, many more.
I already have most of it written I just need to edit it.
The mottled stone of the courtyard widow you sit on leaves small imprintations on the skin on your legs as you sit reading the latest book you've managed to snag last time you were in the restricted section.
Recently, you have successfully figured out a way to read your explicit reading material in public by spooning the smaller book inside a slightly larger book to give the appearance that you're reading a potions textbook. You check the time and go back to your reading.
An hour goes by before you hear footsteps approach me and your eyes wander up to see Sebastian leaning against the stone some two feet ahead of me. You can’t help but internally fawn over him and his bare forearms, veins skirt from his dexterous looking hands, up dissappearing under the rolled up shirt sleeves. He’s filled out since last year, taller and broader than he used to be. seemingly outgrown wearing his robes all the time like he did in their fifth year, opting for the white button down and that bloody green tie that had been in too many of your dreams lately. A warm churning In your lower belly makes her breath hitch as he lazily smirks at me, his eyes zero in on the potions textbook.
“How was brewing liquid luck this afternoon.” he says with a playful smile, taking a step towards you.
“Fine.” you says, tensing slightly. If he moved any closer, there would be nothing stopping him from seeing the raunchy book you were currently devouring.
“Do you think I've never never hidden a book in another book before?” he says with a slight chuckle, uncrossing his arms and reaching over to pluck the book from inside the red potions textbook before you can stop him.
“Hey!” you squeak out in horror as his fingers deftly skim through the book, reading pages here and there, his mouth falling open, along with a slight raise of his thick eyebrows.
His eyebrows raise, and he looks back at you, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.
"What is this, It's a little raunchy..." *He chuckles as he continues to read through the book.…Did you steal this from the restricted section?” he asks, his eyes still roving the words every 20 or so pages.
Is that a faint blush on his cheeks as well?
He flips the book over to glance at the cover before finally looking back at you.
"Go ahead, make fun of me." You say trying to grab the book back. Your cheeks are wildly red.
Sebastian chuckles again, flipping through the pages. The more he reads the more apparent the blushes is that's spreading over his cheeks.
"This is like.. really raunchy. Oh, wow!" He says as he continues reading, deftly avoiding your attempts to retrieve the book.
He continues to read, his eyes skimming down the pages as he looks through your book.
"I was just-..." you start to say something and quickly realize you may shove your more in your mouth than it already was if you keep rambling without thinking.
Sebastian chuckles once again, tapping you on the back and turning the pages a little bit to the next chapter.
"Just what?" He queries with a mock innocent tone.
He turns the pages slower and then to your horror, starts to read it aloud, grinning wildly.
“Their lips battled for dominance as he slid his hand up her thigh. “I need You inside me, Geoff!” He reads mockingly.
"Oh my god." You says in embarrassment, covering your face with your hands and he chuckles a bit before glancing at you once more, the wild grin drops from his face into a more serious one and his eyes seems to darken as if he's had a sudden thought.
"I must admit, this stuff is pretty stirring." Sebastian says in a lower voice, his cheeks are a blazing bright red.
Suddenly you are wishing you had something to drink as he takes a step towards you. The tow of you are in a lower deserted area of the courtyard and there's no one else around as his eyes drag over your face as if trying to gauge your reaction.
"This actually seems kinda... fun, you know." He says taking another step towards you. He's so close you can smell him, like sundried laundry, coffee and a small hint of the cologne he usually wears, mostly worn off now that the sun was beginning to dip behind the hills.
It was intoxicating and entirely to blame for the loss of your normal brain function as he leaned a forearm against the wall slightly over your head.
"How do you mean?" You asks, your brows furrowed as you watch him set the book down on the stone.
Sebastian shrugs slightly.
"Haven't you ever been curious about this stuff?" He says, his face reddens more.
"Wanted to try anything, see if it feels as good as they make it out to be?" His voice is low and surprisingly vulnerable sounding.
"I suppose I have..." you trail off, finally unable to bear his gaze any longer and angle your eyes at a crack in the stone on the ground.
"You know...we could..try some of it. If you wanted..." He trails off, his hand reached up to ghost over your lips before gently angling your chin back to look at him.
your entire body is hot at the thought. "With you?" You ask.
"I mean, we're close, right? Best friends." His eyebrows raise as he continues to look at you.
You nod, your throat is feeling drier than ever.
This was not a good idea.
This was not a good idea.
Your deeply buried feelings for the Slytherin were making a reappearance and your lips were not listening to your brain.
His smiles softly at you, it's important to note that this is a smile and not a grin.
Sebastian Sallow grins much much more than he smiles. You've learned this over the course of your time knowing each other and have been graced with several of his smiles.
“Yes?..." *He asks. The muscles of his chest brush lightly against the swell of your breasts and the feeling shoots like and electrical charge right down to the spot between your legs. "We could start right now...if you'd like." He murmurs against your cheek as his frame hunches slightly to reach his large hand down to the hem of your dress before sliding it up your thigh, using the clip of your stocking to hook your leg higher on him.
"Yes." You say trying to make your response sound a little bit more dignified that the strangled whimper that tries to fall from your lips.
His lips are on yours before you can register anything else and you unconsciously grind your hips against his causing a delicious groan to reverberate from his throat.
"We could try everything in this book." He murmurs against your lips. "But first, I want to try something I've heard about."
PART 2
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winchesterwild78 · 6 days ago
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On the Tenth Day of Christmas
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Master List
Characters: Dean Winchester x Reader
Warnings: fluff, light smut (nothing too bad)
A/N: Day 10 of my holiday fics. I hope you enjoy this short series. I’m really excited about it. All work is my own, please don’t take it. Reblogs and likes are welcomed. 
I do not own the rights to the characters I use, these will not follow the story lines of the series the character appeared in. This is a work of fiction.
Written fast and edited fast, please overlook any errors. 
This one got a little long, sorry. Sorry it took so long to put this one up, I’m sick and was trying to get through the last few days before Winter Break. 
Minors DNI 18+
It had just started snowing in the lazy little town where I lived. A light dusting of fresh snow laying on any surface that didn’t move. 
I’d lived here my whole life so I was not surprised it was snowing in December. The air was crisp and clean. The snow always had a way of cleaning the air. 
The light crunch the snow made under my shoes were the only sounds I heard. My hands were in my pockets as I walked home from my shift at the diner and it was pretty late. 
I didn’t live far and I loved looking at the Christmas lights that lined the streets. 
In the distance I heard a low rumble of a car approaching. I looked up and saw a sleek black car with two male passengers. I looked at them as they passed by, they definitely weren’t local. The driver winked at me and my cheeks flushed red. 
Putting my head down I kept walking. Finally making it home, I showered and crawled into bed. 
The next morning I went to work like any other day. The snow had left a few inches on the ground so I knew we were going to be busy. When I walked in my co-worker Cheryl greeted me, “Oh I’m so glad you’re here. We’ve been so busy. Can you take table 4. They just sat down. Here’s their drinks.” 
I nodded and grabbed the tray. I approached the table and greeted them, “Hello, my name is Y/N and I’ll be your server. I have your drinks, are you ready to order?” 
The men sitting at the table were the same men I saw last night. They were even better looking up close. “Hey sweetheart, I’ll have a breakfast platter with extra bacon and a side of pancakes, and keep the coffee coming, please.” The one with piercing green eyes said. The other one just asked for an egg omelette and some fresh fruit. 
I nodded and took their order to the kitchen. 
I busied myself with other customers and when their order was finished I carried it over to them. 
Green eyes flashed his smile and it made my heart flutter. He was definitely good looking. The other man with him wasn’t bad to look at either. 
“Can I get y’all anything else?” “Just some syrup and your phone number, darlin’” He smirked as he said it. The other man with him shot him a look, “Dean, stop.” “Oh lighten up, Sammy.” 
So their names are Sam and Dean. “The syrup is no problem, Dean. The number you’re going to have to work for.” I winked and walked away. My heart is hammering in my chest. I didn’t dare turn around. 
Cheryl laughed, “Girl you’re being stared at hard.” I glanced over my shoulder and saw Dean staring at me. 
I grabbed the syrup and walked back over. “So, Y/N, what time do you get off?” Dean asked. “That depends. Are you talking about work or something else?” 
Sam almost spit his drink out. Dean smirked, “Maybe both.” 
I bit my lip, “I get off work at 4, as far as something else, that really depends on you.” I smirked and walked away. Dean’s jaw on the ground. “Damn, Sammy. I think I met my match.” “Seems like it, Dean.” Sam chuckled. 
Dean stood and walked to the counter. Cheryl looked at him and then at me. I grabbed some food to deliver to another table. He watched as I walked away. 
Dean was leaning against the counter when I returned. His back to me and I could see his toned back through the tight t-shirt he was wearing. I saw Cheryl and him talking. 
As I walked up Cheryl smiled at me and he tilted his head to the side to look at me. 
“So sweetheart, how about I pick you up at 7 and we grab some dinner or something.” He smirked. 
I smirked and stepped closer, “Maybe, but I have to warn you I tend to eat my dessert first.” Cheryl chuckled and Dean laughed, “Sounds good to me. I’ll bring pie.” 
Sam and Dean finished their food and paid their bill. On the ticket Dean wrote his number and then 7pm. 
I was a mixture of nerves and excitement as the time crept closer to 7. When I got off work I went home, showered and went through every piece of clothing I owned. I had no idea what had me so nervous. Dean wasn’t a local, so I knew this was going to be a one night thing, but here I was still trying to find the perfect outfit at 6:30. 
I finally decided on my favorite pair of jeans that fit just right, a band t-shirt, my leather jacket and my black low heel boots. 
My hair was pulled back in a high ponytail and I applied light makeup. Standing back from the full length mirror I looked myself over and nodded in approval. 
About 5 minutes to 7 there was a light knock on my door. I opened it and standing there was Dean. He’d changed his clothes since I last saw him and damn did he look good. His hair perfectly styled, a shirt that was just tight enough to show off his firm chest, dark jeans and boots. 
“Wow, you look amazing, sweetheart.” I blushed and smiled. “Thank you, Dean. So do you.” 
I grabbed my stuff and we walked to the car. It had started snowing again so the ground was a little slippery. 
As I got to the car door I slipped. Bracing myself for a fall that didn’t come. I looked up and saw Dean’s green eyes looking down at me, “Careful sweetheart. I was promised dessert first, not an ER visit.” 
I chuckled as he helped me up, “Thanks Dean, but I don’t remember promising you dessert. I said I always have my dessert first.” I winked at him and he laughed. 
He opened the car door and I got in. The inside of his car was beautiful. He slid into the driver’s seat, “So where to sweetheart? Know any good dessert places?” “I thought you were bringing the pie, Dean.” I smiled. 
He smirked, “I think I forgot it.” “Oh wow, and here I thought you were trying to get me in bed. What kind of man promises pie and doesn’t deliver? Makes me wonder what else you can’t deliver on.” The side of my mouth twitched up into a grin. 
“Oh believe me, sweetheart, I can and will deliver.” I touched his leg, “We’ll see.” 
Dean pulled off to the side of the road and put the car in park. I looked over at him and noticed his green eyes were dark with lust. “You’re playing with fire, darlin’.” 
My hand slid up his thigh, “I enjoy fire.” Before I knew what was happening, Dean’s lips were on mine and his hand on the back of my neck. The kiss was full of need, passion and want. 
We moaned into each other’s mouths. My hands slid into his hair at the nape of his neck. 
Dean pulled me closer to him and he moved to the center of the front seat. Just enough for me to straddle him. His hands firmly on my hips, his lips on mine, seemed to ground me in the moment. 
He pulled my jacket off and threw it to the side. His fingers are playing with the hem of my shirt. 
I nodded and he pulled my shirt over my head revealing my supple breasts confined by the lacey material of my bra. 
His lips trailing down my neck to the tops of my breasts, his hands and fingers delicately touching up my body. 
“You’re so beautiful, sweetheart.” My breath hitched. I’d never done anything like this before, but Dean was like a magnet. Pulling me closer to him and try as I might I couldn’t seem to pull myself away. Not that I wanted to. 
“Dean, I..” My voice trailed off as his lips trailed over my body. I felt him smirk against my skin. The heat pooling between my legs was growing and soaking my panties. 
“Darlin’, let’s take this back to my room. Sammy is out and we have the place to ourselves. I don’t want our first time to be in the car.” I smiled and nodded. 
I climbed off Dean, pulled my shirt back on as he slid back into the driver’s seat and took off towards his hotel. Once inside the room he was back on me, kissing and touching every inch of my body. 
Our bodies fell on the bed and tangled with the sheets. Dean was gentle but dominated me all at once. He took me places I’d never been and I didn’t want to let go. 
I laid in his arms, my head and hand resting on his chest as Dean wrapped his arm around me. Our breathing steady and I let out a sigh. “Whatcha thinking about sweetheart?” “Honestly, how I’m going to be able to let you go when you and Sam leave, because I know you two aren’t staying here.”
Dean lifted his head and looked at me, “Then don’t.” I sat up and looked at him in shock, “What?” “Don’t let me go. Come with me and Sammy.” “Dean, you don’t mean that, you can’t be serious.” 
He sat up and turned to face me, cupping my face, “I’m very serious, come with me. I don’t want to leave unless you’re by my side.” 
“Dean, we just met. You couldn’t possibly know you want me to come with you.” “Y/N. I’ve lived a hard life. One that doesn’t offer second chances so I’ve learned when you see something or someone you want you go for it. All in, head over heels.” 
“Dean, I need to think about it. This is my home. It has been my whole life.” Dean nodded, he understood. Not everyone grew up like he had. “When do you leave, Dean?” “In three days.” “Okay, I’ll let you know by the end of the second day.” 
He leaned in and placed a soft kiss on my lips, “I’ll be waiting, sweetheart.”
The next few days we sent as much time together as we could. I still had work, and he was in town doing whatever he was here for. 
The day before he left I was walking home thinking about my decision. That’s when I looked up and saw Sam and Dean in suits walking out of the Sheriff’s office. My brows furrowed in confusion. 
Later that evening I sat with my leg bouncing. I needed to talk to Dean but I also had a decision to make. To say I was nervous was an understatement. 
Dean arrived at my place looking incredible. He wasn’t wearing the suit, but damn did he look good. He pulled me into a tight hug and placed a kiss on my lips. “Hey sweetheart, I’ve missed you today.” I snuggled into his chest, “I missed you too, Dean.” 
When we pulled away from each other I nervously bit my lip. Dean noticed how nervous I was and it made him nervous. “Are you okay, Y/N?”
I looked up at him, “Yeah, um, can we talk?” Dean nodded and motioned to the couch.
We sat down and he placed his hand on my knee. His touch always had a way of grounding me. I took a deep breath and began talking.
“Dean, I don’t know what to say. You came into my life unexpectedly and now I can’t see my life without you in it, but I don’t know anything about you. You want me to come with you and Sam, but I don’t know what that means. Where is home? What do you and Sam do for work, because obviously you work together. Have you ever been married, or have any kids? I don’t know anything about you. I’ve poured my life out for you, so you know the answers to those questions, but you’re so guarded. I see myself falling for you, but I can’t be with someone who has secrets. Like why did I see you and Sam come out of the Sheriff’s office in suits today?”
His eyes went wide and I saw his shoulders tense. I knew I hit a nerve. “Y/N, there are things in my life that are ugly. Down right terrifying. I can answer your questions, but you have to trust me. Trust that I will spend every breath keeping you safe. Home is an underground bunker. We kinda inherited it, it’s not your traditional place to live, but it’s home and we make it home. I’ve never been married and don’t have any kids, I’d like to have both one day, and I see that now because of you. As far as Sammy and I, we travel across the country and hunt monsters. Vampires, ghosts, demons, all of it are real. We are hunters. Our mother grew up in the life, our dad did not, but after she was killed he began hunting the demon that killed her. I was 4 and Sam was 6 months.” 
I gasped and touched his arm. “Oh Dean, I’m so sorry.” My heart broke for him with the realization he’d been taking care of Sam since he was 4 years old. 
“So, all of the things in horror movies, the things that go bump in the night are real?” He nodded. “And you and Sam hunt them down and kill them?” Again, he nodded. “So that means something was here, and you two were here to take care of it?” 
His eyes flicked to mine, “We’ve taken care of it. It was a vampire that was trying to establish a nest. All those missing people were being turned.” 
“Oh my god.” I whispered. “This is a lot to take in, Dean. Now you’re telling me there was a vampire here, in the one place I felt safe.” 
He touched my face, “I’m sorry, darlin’. Just know you’re safe and if you decide not to go with me I’ll make sure you stay that way.” Logistically I didn’t know how that would work, but I knew Dean would keep me safe no matter what.
“Dean, where are you spending Christmas?” “Hopefully in your arms, but unless we get a case we will be at home, at the bunker.”
I smiled, “How about I spend it with you at the bunker, or wherever you are?”  Dean smirked, “Are you serious?” I nodded, “Yes, Dean. Let’s just jump head first into whatever this is. I don’t want to be anywhere else but with you.” 
He kissed my lips, “Great, come on, let’s go tell Sammy you’re coming with us. I can’t wait to spend the first of many Christmases together.” He grabbed my hand and pulled me out the door to the car.
Before we got in the car he leaned me against it, tilted my chin up and kissed me deeply. 
“Dean I..” I couldn’t say it for fear it would scare him, but damn did I feel it already. “I know sweetheart, I do too.” He kissed me again, and we drove towards Sam to tell him we decided on forever.
Tags are open, if you want to be added or removed, let me know.  
Tags: 
@nescaveckwriter @kr804573 
@k-slla @jackles010378 
@jawritter @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx 
@roseblue373 @cheynovak 
@jassackles  @chriszgirl92
@suckitands33 @arcannaa 
@n-o-p-e-never @ladysparkles78 
@smoothdogsgirl @hobby27 
@manicjk @stoneyggirl2 
@deans-spinster-witch @snowayumi 
@shadowqueen1318 @shanimallina87
@muhahaha303 @fitxgrld
@nancymcl @baby19sthings
@cheekygirl2309 @oceean
@kindollss @foxyjwls007
@lmg14 @cevansbaby-dove
@spxideyver @reignsboy19
@deans-baby-momma @deansimpalababy
@ladykitana90 @quietgirll75 
@superrey @kamisobsessed
@obliviousap @ninii-winchester
@mischiefnevermanaged89-blog @whimsyfinny
@bobbdylan @star-yawnznn
@reignsboy19 @monkey-d-hoshizora98
@depressionbarbie2023 @livingdeadblondequeen
@mandee7 @barnes70stark
@spnaquakindgdom
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lover-of-mine · 1 year ago
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I have more unhinged thoughts about Buck and costume design choices, so stay with me for a bit. I will be using Buck's previous relationships to make the point tho, so tw Taylor Kelly.
This started going around my head in a very innocent "it's so cool that they chose to put Buck in green during the coma dream" because Buck wears red a lot. Like, a LOT.
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And green is on the other side of the color wheel. So him in green during the coma dream deeply bothered me for no reason.
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Because like, when Buck is wearing bright colors he's usually around here on a color wheel because there's the burnt orange he wears sometimes too. So they put him in his complementary color, and the whole thing with complementary colors is to create contrast and I was mindblown by that a little bit once it registered.
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But then I was making an edit and I noticed that Buck is wearing green when he breaks up with Taylor. Which is fine, we all know the whole Blue and Green thing with couples in 911, right?
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So I just moved on with the idea that they put him in green because the relationship is wrong and moved on, until I noticed he wasn't always the green character. Because then shit gets interesting.
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Because, when does he become the green character? When he tells her that he kissed someone else. So he's the one wearing green when the relationship starts to fall apart and when they break up.
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And that alone for me is fascinating because oh my god the costume department is out there working overtime. But I am a dog with a bone and what's another time where Buck is wearing green? The fight with Ali. Who's also wearing blue, very light blue but still blue.
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But also just accepted this as just a blue and green thing with couples because Ali is not around enough for me to use her to establish a pattern.
But I was also on high alert about other situations he might be wearing green, not that all of them fully registered until this morning when it finally clicked that he's wearing green on the cemetery scene.
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Because another time he's wearing green on his own is when he takes Red to see Cindy and when he talks to Maddie about Abby and being left behind right after. Also when he's hiding in Eddie's place so he won't have to talk to Taylor.
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I don't know about yall but I feel like this does establish a pattern of him wearing green while doing misguided stuff in his chase of his idea of romantic love.
But I have more points if you're not convinced yet.
We established that he wears a lot of red and that the thing with complementary colors is contrast, right? I'm not gonna sit here and tell you that there's a set pattern on when he wears red because he wears red in multiple circumstances, but I will tell you a few scenes that back me up.
Because baby boy is wearing red when he finally lets go of Abby, on both occasions, and when he's literally talking to Maddie about what love really means leading to him finally making the right choice to stop hanging on to Taylor.
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He wears red when he finally does the right thing when it comes to love and he wears green when he's trying to convince himself he's doing the right thing. Contrast.
This show is crazy. Insane. Absolute madness.
Edit:
Okay, extra point here. I went against adding this particular scene because I legit can't tell if his shirt is green or blue here. But I got a reply here and decided to check.
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so it went to color-hex to try and determine it, well, this is definitely a shade of green. I actually made a whole pallete of his shirt. This is definitely green.
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So another point to team he does misguided shit on his quest for love in green clothing because this is the scene where he's telling Maddie about Abby and Maddie is telling him that she's bagging other guys but he chooses to ignore it.
Am i crazy? probably. But what's that thing once is a chance twice is a coincidence and three is a pattern? Thats 4 scenes with the green and him doing stupid shit in the name of love.
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astral--horrorshow · 2 years ago
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Around-The-Clock Shadows
Platonic Yandere ROTTMNT x Reader
Info: This will be a full-length fic including multiple ROTTMNT characters, the main storyline revolves around the Mad Dogs.
Fic Summary: You sure are likeable, aren't you?
Chapter 1: Preparations and Purple Dragons
Characters: Kendra, Jase, Jeremy, Donatello, Raphael, Michaelangelo, Leonardo
A/N: Kicking off the first day of my summer break with a fic! I've been working on this for a while now, so I hope you like it! Apologies for the short length and any bad writing! I was very inspired by @yanteetle , @pianocat939 , @yanyanderes , and @yandere-toons ! (edit: @oleander-nin too!!)
If you want to be added to a taglist, just say the word! If you want to draw fanart or make anything based off of this, I would be literally honored. Please don't be shy, I will love whatever you make! If you have any questions about the fic, feel free to ask!
TW: Kidnapping plans, toxic relationships, stalking, Jase gets kicked in the shin (spoiler: it's Kendra), attempted(?) peer pressure, Leo and Donnie are creepers.
I do not condone any of the behaviors found or done in this fic. This story is purely for entertainment purposes. If you or someone you know is being treated like this, please contact the authorities.
Please Reblog writer's work!
Chapter Summary: You hang out with the Purple Dragons, and the Hamato brothers prepare for your arrival.
Word Count: 1166
☆~☆~☆
Kendra had her hand on the back of your neck, leading you further into the Purple Dragon's closed-off corner of the computer lab.
"And this is the Dragon's Tooth," she said as she pointed to a large, circular table with a small, green device suspended in a glass tube.
"Oooo!" You leaned towards it in curiosity, careful to not get too close to the lasers, "What does it do?" Before Kendra could answer you, Jase rushed over and started to explain with a speedy voice, "The Dragon's Tooth is a military-grade piece of technology that- ow!"
Kendra had kicked him in the shin. Hard. From what you had known about her, she didn't like to be interuppted.
"Shut up, Jase," Kendra snapped.
Jase kneeled on the ground on one leg, rubbing the kicked one with a grimace on his angular face. You reached out to him, but Kendra casually pulled you by the collar of your shirt next to her, placing her hand on the back of the neck you craned to see if Jase was okay and pushed you along yet again.
Your watch suddenly let out a long, piercing beep, which caused your gaze to turn to the plastic screen.
"Oh, I need to get home!" You exclaimed, rushing from Kendra to grab your bag.
"Awh, c'mon, can't you stay a little longer?" Jeremy strolled towards you along with the rest of the Purple Dragons. You were, quite literally, cornered by them, but you still persisted in your quest to return home.
"But I really gotta leave! I'll see you tommorow!" You rushed out, waving to the students strung up by their knickers outside their tech cubbyhole. The Purple Dragons didn't pursue, looking at the silent, red device on the collar of shirt in a cocktails of smugness and satisfaction (mostly from Kendra) and slight guilt of invading your privacy (mostly Jase).
You rushed to the bike racks as soon as you came out of the double doors of the High School. Going to unlock your bike, you spotted a figure in purple slink down an alleyway.
You pulled up to your residence, locking your bike and unlocking the door to your home. Taking off your shoes, and setting your bag down on your bed, you flopped down onto the carpet, feeling the rough material rubbing against your cheek. Despite it grating against your face, you found a sense of comfort in the act. You turned towards your bed, focusing on the underside. Stuck to one of the nails of the supports, was a bright orange piece of cloth. You reached out your arm, grabbing the fabric between your fingers. It was a bit worn, but perfectly clean otherwise. How odd, you didn't remember having any clothes like that.
☆~☆~☆
You opened the freezer door, shivering at the blast of cold air hitting your face. You grabbed the ice cream container as fast you could, and gingerly closed the freezer as to not wake up your family. As you sucked the spoon free of the frozen treat, you gazed at the moonlight filtering through your kitchen. There were a few clouds, but otherwise it was clear. You couldn't see the stars, though. Not in New York City, where lights and air pollution thrive. Putting the ice cream back, (you couldn't eat so much to the point where it would be noticeable) you pulled your blanket tighter around your shoulders and tiptoed back to your bedroom. You buried yourself under the warm covers, a welcome respite from the cold, and closed your eyes, unaware of the being outside your window.
Leonardo chuckled to himself, and propped his elbows up on the windowstill. He watched you cutely snuggle your pillow, your cheek squishing against it. The only thing he wanted was to pinch and squish them 'till they got numb, but bringing you home sooner than planned would make the rest of your new brothers irritated at him. You fell asleep almost immediately, you must've been so tired, poor baby. He pulled out his phone, and dialed a number.
"Hey, Don- what? Yeah, I know it's late. Don't shout at me right now. Yeah, add ice cream to the list."
☆~☆~☆
Mikey skipped into the room, holding a pair of slippers in his hand. He set them down near the bed just as Donatello finished spreading a thick, fluffy blanket on it.
"Ah, thank you, Michael," Donnie spoke upon seeing Mikey with the slippers.
"Anything for them!" Mikey squealed, obviously shaking with excitement.
"Hey, party people," Leo casually called out as he strolled into the room, holding his ōdachi over his shoulders like they were regular sticks instead of mystical, deadly weapons. Upon the red-earned sliders entrance, Donnie turned and glared.
"Leo, I don't see why you had to call me at exactly 2:38 AM last night. It could've waited until morning."
"What?" Leo pulled his hand to his chest in mock indignation, "And not complete the list? I swear, it's like you don't even want them to be happy here!"
"Of course I do!"
Before their squabble could turn into a full-on argument, Raph burst in the room with a number of plushies of different shapes, sizes, and colors in his arms, which he started to arrange on the bed. Donnie sauntered away from Leo to help Raph in an attempt to keep his temper under control, and Mikey arranged things around the room. Leo slumped his shoulders, made a portal with a single slash of his ōdachi, and fell backwards into it.
☆~☆~☆
Donatello typed on his keyboard, occasionally turning his gaze to the other screens, which had a plethora of security cameras, locations of trackers, and information displayed on them. "Occasionally" being every few seconds. Eventually, he gave up on his coding and leaned back to soak up all the information on you and blue light the multiple moniters could give him. He was the number one expert on you, which he had to be if you were going to be happy in the Lair. He was also going to be your older brother soon, which meant he had to make up for all the missing years. You didn't know how much you needed them all, but you would soon. Very, very soon. A ping from his phone pulled him from his obsessive thoughts. He had sent S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N to guard you throughout the day when he or his brothers couldn't do it themselves. His eyes widened to saucers when he saw the feed from his creation.
You, standing there. With the Purple Dragons. Talking to you. Touching you. The Purple Dragons. You, oblivious to their danger.
Donnie leapt up from his chair and sprinted toward the door, racing through the halls. He wouldn't let that horrible, deceiving, Kendra and her flunkies take advantage of you. Over his dead body.
"I'll be there very soon," he thought, "Wait for me just a little longer.
I'll save you."
☆~☆~☆
A/N: *chuckles* you're in danger.
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laes-expoau-official · 29 days ago
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-Finally finished the true official designs (full colored edition) for Expo. The only ones im missing right now are Miku and the Creator, but eh. (Descriptions for design under each image)-
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Moon. His design was mainly based off of the thumbnail design for Laes with his "thumbnail sweater". If you had noticed, Moon, Sun, and Solar only have one eye. This is because they ended up getting very expensive updated bodies (because Fazbear loves being in debt), which the crescent side of their faces is actually like a tv screen. The other side of their face is actually a smooth piece of plastic casing. The hat Moon wears is actually a hat Lunar had gotten custom made to wear during the October takeover, and later, Monty made Lunar's design to have a cyan variant of it. So Moon's hat is actually the original.
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Lunar. His design is more or less identical to canon, from hat (the neck ruffles are the same color as his hat instead of white), to weird pointy shoes (which again, are colored differently) he is missing his eye and arm, still playing on the Creator's weakness of drawing two identical eyes.
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(I forgot to color Earth's eye, lol) Fazbear did try to update her like the others, but they just ended up messing up her right eye, hence why her bangs cover it. Speaking of hair, Earth now has shorter hair and a lavender bow instead of the rainbow headband. She's now almost entirely in her green/blue skirt.
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Gemini/Pollux/Castor. Starting off with the twins, Pollux and Castor have an interesting new style. Their clothing now fits the whole opposite of the other. Castor now has a tail with the Gemini symbol on it, while Pollux has the symbol in her eye. Both have a stocking like pattern on their legs as well as a fingerless glove style on their hands.
Gemini. Gemini is similar to canon, with their fair share of differences. Their pants don't fade into blue anymore, their hands and feet have the same design as Expo Pollux and Castor, and their poncho-like hood id also dark blue and purple with golden accents. (their face isn't colored for the reason of my markers do not like to blend well)
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Sun. This is probably my favorite design of them all. He has a faded blue hat (originally Nexus's as Moon) the Earth helped him to patch up (the patches correspond with his family). Sun also is wearing the cat sweater (from Nexus) and tennis shoes just like Moon and Solar. He also has that whole screen thing, just like Moon.
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Solar. He is really a dull orange color (my markers were way too bright) that now wears a soft pastel shirt, not reminiscent of the Daycare (based off of an official fnaf shirt i have) and plain red pants with patches. He wears boots/tennis shoes that are "Eclipse themed" and has the same crescent screen like Sun and Moon.
(Oh yeah, and he's missing a ring finger because Jack bit it off at one point, as well as part of his pinkie on the gloved hand)
-One more thing. This will be my last post because of the fandom in general about several characters and won't continue until either the fandom calms down (which i doubt will happen), or until i decide i want to continue. It's mainly because i want to work on a semi-large project for Kat (whether or not they'll see it) and i want to spend time on it so not only does it look nice, but it has every possible thing i want to add to it. I likely will post some drafts that i get done when i have time, but no promises. Im also turning off asks until i get my drafts cleared out again ;v;-
-It's not you guys, it's me and the toxic fandom. I need time to cool off and make something hopefully really cool for Kat.-
-Edit; you can send me asks or whatever through my main, especially if you want to ask questions or whatever and stay anonymous-
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we-are-inevitable · 1 year ago
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you asked for restaurant au requests so!! restaurant au javid?? and if there is a sauce-related incident i'd appreciate it?? (no pressure though!) - @pigeonwit
OHHH!! absolutely.
edit after writing: this got out of hand. i love them so so much.
———
“Corner!”
That’s all the warning David gets before a body rounds the corner and rams straight into his own. He sees it first, a curly mop of blonde hair, a high-pitched yell, a tray flying out of hands— all too suddenly, David is splayed on his back on the kitchen floor, and all too suddenly, his white shirt is soaked in something chunky and wet.
Racer immediately kneels down next to him, eyes wide as one of the big pans they use to cook up all of the fries. “David! Oh, shit! Man, are you okay?”
“I— Yeah, I’m fine. Get me up,” David says, but as soon as he sits up, there’s a distinct pain in the middle of his back. He winces, and that must be noticeable, because Racer instantly starts asking questions.
“Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
“I’m fine, just—“
“No, you’re hurt, aren’t you? Fuck, I am so sorry, I didn’t know you were right there, I’m sorry—“
With a sigh, David grabs onto Racer’s shoulder, slowly pushing himself up to a standing position despite the blossoming feeling of ow currently pulsating through his body. “Kid, you’re okay, okay? You’re fine,” David says through gritted teeth.
Everyone in the kitchen is looking at them by now. David slowly turns to give them all a glance, noticing that something is missing— and just at that moment, Jack walks into the kitchen, smelling like cigarette smoke masked by a high-end cologne.
Jack stops just before the mess on the floor, taking it in with wide eyes, and he quickly looks up and makes eye contact with David. “What the hell happened?”
David sees the nervous look on Racer’s face, so he concedes and says, “It’s my fault. I was leaving and ran into Racer, I fell down and dropped the food. I’ll clean it up.”
“Clean yourself up first,” Jack comments, gesturing to David’s shirt, smeared with all sorts of colors: red and green salsa, garlic aioli, ranch and ketchup— a menagerie of condiments for a menagerie of burgers. “You didn’t get hurt when you fell, did’ja?”
“No, I—“
“He fucked up his back,” Race says from the side, and David gives him a nudge with his elbow. “He’s movin’ slow and it looked like he hurt when he sat up.”
Jack takes the information in, and gestures to the dishwasher. “I’ll give you a ten if you clean this up,” he says, gesturing to the pocket his wallet resides in, and the dishwasher responds with a curt nod. Turning to his linecooks, Jack nods to them as well. “Keep doin’ what you’re doin’. Rush isn’t startin’ for another twenty minutes, I’ll be back in ten at the most. Got it?”
“On it,” Specs pipes up, not even looking away from the task at hand.
With that done, David watches as Jack reaches out, then sighs at the feeling of Jack’s hand on his shoulder. They walk slowly to the manager’s office- a larger room off to the side of the kitchen, with a couple of comfy chairs and a place for staff to eat their food.
“Don’t bother Charlie with this, please,” David says, head lolling just enough to look at Jack. “I’m fine, really.”
Jack clicks his tongue a few times, then pulls out his keyring and unlocks the door. “Charlie ain’t here,” He murmurs, pushing the door open and leading Davey inside, only to lock the door behind them. “He’s runnin’ up to the bank. Register’s almost outta change for customers.”
“Ohhh, okay, makes sense,” David nods, then takes in a deep breath. “So… can I go, if he’s not here? I have tables I need to check on.”
“They can wait. Your health is more important than a table,” Jack says like it’s the easiest thing to understand, and Davey wants to agree, but he never knows. A few good tips could be the difference between eating and not.
But he doesn’t bother arguing with Jack, because that’s never gotten him anywhere in the past.
Jack, after rummaging around in a locker for a moment, comes back to Davey with a clean- albeit wrinkled- white shirt. He sets it down on Charlie’s desk, and walks back to David, and suddenly, there’s a tenderness in his eyes that wasn’t there before— a carefully concealed care. Jack cups his cheek, and leans up to press a soft kiss to his forehead.
With that, Jack makes gentle work of untucking David’s shirt, working the buttons open until he can push the fabric off of his shoulders.
David gulps, and says, “I wish you were undressing me in a different circumstance right now.”
That quip gets a grin in response, Jack looking up at him with bright eyes. “Turn around, you dumbass.” And who is David not to comply? He turns, feeling Jack’s hands on his back. “Hm… It looks a little red,” He mumbles. “You sure you feel okay?”
David hesitates, then nods. “Yeah, I just… I guess I’m taking it slow today,” he murmurs. “If it gets worse, I’ll call out tomorrow. Racer owes me a covered shift anyway, I’ll talk to him if I need to.”
“If you’re sure,” Jack says softly, kissing the back of David’s neck. He then gently turns David around in his arms, running a hand through his hair. “Make sure you let me know if you need to go home, okay? I got a lotta sway over Char.”
David just grins and leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to Jack’s lips. “I’d rather go home with you,” He says softly, then sighs, grabbing the shirt off of Charlie’s desk. “I need to go check on my tables. I’d love to stay in here and have you all over me, but…”
Jack rolls his eyes. “I wasn’t all over you. I was makin’ sure you weren’t hurt,” He defends, though his smile is more than telling.
With a shake of his head, Davey finishes buttoning his new shirt, tucking it into his belt. It’s a little loose on him- it’s likely Jack’s- but he rolls the sleeves up and smiles in Jack’s direction. “Thank you, ahuví,” David says, and gives Jack one last kiss on the lips before they both walk towards the door.
“Ready to hate each other again?” Jack asks, and David squeezes his hand three times. They both walk out, discarding the dirty shirt into one of the trashcans in the kitchen, and David walks back to the front of house with a new smile on his face.
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vhyunjinverse · 2 years ago
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Purple Converse
gn!reader x mgg (fluff)
summary: the first time you saw him was on a Tuesday- your first day. he came into the store smiling despite it being so early in the morning..
warnings: none !
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“Excuse me, do you guys have this in a size 11?” You knew that voice, it was Matthew (or so his rewards account said). He held a box up of a purple converse shoe with a small awaiting smile. You smiled back of course, it was your job after all, but one from Matthew was surely contagious.
“Let me check, yeah? I’m sure we do, though.” you chuckle. He nodded, pursing his lips as you took the box.
You leave him be to go to the back of your post. You’ve worked at this shoe store for nearly a year, and you haven’t seen anyone walk in there almost regularly as Matthew. When you first met it had been your first day when he strode in all tall. In fact, he was the first customer to arrive- early in the morning when the store opened. He seemed to be in a hurry as the converse on his feet were about to fall apart. They were red and tied in a way you’ve seen before. With every step you could see the outline of two completely different socks on his feet. What a weirdo, you had thought.
All you could see was his fluffy hair and glasses over the shelves as he went straight for the isle of converse shoes. More people started to walk in and it made you nervous. Before then, all the other jobs you’d have weren’t exactly working with people face to face. Normally you’d be editing or designing some work online as commissions. Only online work, never in person.
With your eyes trained on the man scanning the isle, your hands nervously fidgeted with the name tag on your shirt. Moments later he was in front of you, tapping on the box lightly. “I’d like to get these please” His voice was soft, professional-like. It made your heart flutter in a bit of a panic.
“Oh! yes of- of course. Will that be all sir?” you cleared your throat feeling it run dry. You avoided eye contact with him, and instead grabbed the box to scan it. They were a high top pair of red converses, size 11.
He hummed before grabbing a pack of shoe laces from a rack on the counter. “These too, thank you.”
“Of course” you whispered. After scanning his items and placing them into the store bag. “Do you have a number or an account with us?” You say the words slowly and carefully, the practice you’ve done the night before seemed to vanish. “You can earn points and discounts.” you smile. He nods and leans in very closely- shocking you.
“I’m sorry for the lack of space, i didn’t want anyone else hearing my number out loud.” he giggles before calling out the numbers to you. You nod and pull back slowly to type it into the computer. The name “Matthew Gubler” pops up.
“Well, Matthew, you have a discount for $20 off, do you want to use it today?” You watch him pull out his wallet while shaking his head. “Not today!” he hands you the money and does a little bow before taking off.
“Wait your change-“
“Keep it! See you next time.”
And you did see him next time. It was a week later when he was coming in to get another pair of converse- low top and green. They didn’t have them in stores so he got them ordered and sent to the store for pickup.
When he came in he was all smiles again, this time wearing sunglasses. The store was crowdy. By now you were used to work the register and such so it wasn’t much of a hassle. It was only when that head of hair was in your view and Matthew’s beautiful smile loomed over you that you felt a little nervous. “Hey there Matthew. You..have an order actually.” You click your tongue to pull up his account in the computer.
“That I do. How’s your day going…Y/N?” he reads your name tag.
“Busy much. You?”
“Same here. I’m actually on my way out of town in a few hours for work. Wanted to get my shoes first.” he laughs. You smile and nod, holding up a finger to go and grab the perfectly wrapped box of converse.
“You know, i’ve only ever seen you wear these- or pick them up. How many pairs of converse does one man need huh?” You attempted at joking. Matthew laughed however, taking the box from your hands. “You can’t never have too many. They’re also very comfortable.”
“And the socks?” you pressed, “You’re a bit strange you know?” You check off his order, watching the line pileup behind him.
“I’ll tell you another time, how about that?”
And he did, and your relationship with Matthew started. You anticipated his arrival to the store you worked at. It made you happier. He had told you many things from your small meetings at the counter- what he did job wise, acting (which got you hooked on the show he acted in), painting, directing, being an author too- and a model? You were shocked really, how someone so energetic did so much and still had the time to buy shoes in store whenever he wanted.
You told him about yourself as well, how you’re also somewhat of an artist, and your small hobbies of crafting. You told a lot- from your favorite foods to your favorite style of clothing (his style of course). When you didn’t work you found yourself sitting with Matthew as he tried on sweaters from a thrift store not far from your apartment. If you weren’t thrifting, it was painting pottery with Matthew when he wasn’t working and free, being sure to grab food afterwards and hanging out.
He become an amazing friend to have. You even sat and watched the show he was in together (him laughing while you tried to piece together who the unsub was). You grew closer by the months that passed by. And so did Matthew’s converse collection.
He had FINALLY showed you after a month of asking (and him being away because of work). It wasn’t what you expected however- they were all stacked on top of each up messily with the strings hanging out of them, but ready to be worn. You remember telling Matthew he needed to take care of his shoes and no wonder he came in so much. But in that moment he said something..well, crazy.
“I only came in because just sitting there talking to you would’ve made me look suspicious and kept you from work. I’ve donated lots of these shoes, i wear them, yes, but they don’t last forever.”
The thought made you chuckle to yourself as you reached up and grabbed the size 11 box of purple converse, Matthew’s name written on it from you personally just for the occasion. When you came back to the front he was tracing a picture framed at your station of you two hugging.
“Will this be all?” you held out the box. He straightened up and smiled,
“For now?” he leans in and pecks your lips, “Yeah.”
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sacredjake · 1 year ago
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Carpe Noctem
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pairing: Jake Kiszka x Siren!Reader
warnings: MDNI 18+!!! blood, death, killing, angst, cursing, supernatural elements, brief mention of weapons and minor assault, guilt, talk of dying, smut, fluff, soulmate au
word count: 13.8k
This fic will display themes of death and killing, and i will do my best to tag every warning, but if i miss one please, please, please bring it to my attention.
As Nympha Legatus of your pod you must do what it takes to complete the duty bestowed upon you and your sisters. Even if it means killing the man you love. Will fate continue to haunt you or will you give in to what you truly desire?
a/n: this fic has been almost a month in the making and even longer in the brainstorming stage and i am so excited to share it with everyone! thank you @malany-gvf for always helping me talk out the ideas i have. huge, massive thank you to @gold-mines-melting for giving endless feedback, support and suggestions and taking time to read this and edit it. i appreciate and love you both so much, thank you from the bottom of my heart <33333
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Light from the full moon overhead illuminated your already glistening skin every so often as clouds passed by. The silver rays that shone upon you reflected a scene like the ocean you had emerged from, like moonlight glittering off the waves. The night was misty, rain falling lightly as your pod walked through the streets towards the closest club or bar. Forgoing the need for a coat, raindrops dotted the exposed areas and rolled off seamlessly disguising the naturally dewy texture of your skin. 
The rain was purposeful, a product of your magic to blend in better with the humans. If not for that you would look even more out of place with the way your skin looked wet even when dry. It was also a way to ensure everyone was hydrated and avoided drying out. While a quarter of you would not return tonight, at least it would not be from lack of water. 
Scuffing from shoes on gravel and rocks being kicked were the only sounds echoing through the dark streets. Some of your sisters were still getting their bearings, it being their first night on legs and all, stumbles were to be expected. Wearing shoes was a major adjustment, but to fit in, shoes were a necessity. 
Oh how you missed the days when the humans walked around barefoot. Things were so much simpler then. Before him. 
You shook the memory out of your head before it snowballed any further. Now was not the time for that. Focus. 
Red light caught your eye as it reflected off puddles and the shiny black gravel. Your eyes followed the trail, landing on multiple different neon signs lighting up the club your pod approached. Like you had expected there to be, a long line formed outside the bar of humans waiting to get inside. At the front stood a tall, large man wearing a tight black shirt and jeans with his arms crossed looking over the line. 
Sarenya stopped beside you, and your sisters who followed closely behind mirrored both your actions. She turned to face the pod as you eyed the bouncer a bit longer, sizing him up. When she began to speak you turned around and met the faintly glowing eyes of your younger sisters. 
Another distinguishing trait that showed you were not human. 
Nymph’s eyes were usually different from the humans’. The color of one’s eyes determined their age and their status. While a siren’s eyes were green in the early stages of their life, red during their middle age and silver in their later years, a mermaid’s eyes were blue, purple and then gold in their respective life stages. The commonality between the two? Every nymph’s iris sparkled. No, not like that disgusting glitter humans loved so much that stuck to everything. Within each iris lay a million tiny flecks of their color in a lighter shade, reflective and bright. And definitely not human. 
And yes, mermaids and sirens were both sea nymphs. Humans always tried to make different categories for everything they knew little about, but it was not that complex. Although the technical terms back home were oceanids and naiads, you had learned long ago that people on land had left their original names behind. It didn’t matter much to you honestly, you were all children of the sea, and there wasn’t much difference between a mermaid and a siren anyways beside your eye color and abilities. 
Everyone knew sirens had beautiful voices, but this was merely an amplification of their compulsion. While sirens couldn’t compel any other sea nymph, it worked on every other living being. But that’s just the most well known ability. Sirens can also manipulate water, and alter the way something may appear to others. Illusion was the most useful ability a siren could use on a night like tonight.
A mermaid’s abilities were different of course. While sirens could manipulate water, mermaids could control the state of water turning it from liquid to gas to solid. Hence the rain, a combination of both your powers working together. Their most useful power for tonight, however, was their ability to control the emotions of others. 
“Alright, we have a few fleshlings with us tonight so we’re going to go over how this works.” Sarenya addressed the pod since she was tonight’s leader. “Use your abilities, rule number one. We are here for one purpose and we must do whatever it takes to achieve that goal. Rule number two, do not leave any damning evidence behind. We do not need a repeat of 1986 where a scale was left behind for a human to find and cause a frenzy. Rule number three, the humans can be quite attractive, but do not forget that they are not one of us. They are food, not mates. Kill them and move on. Fail and you will die. We can not survive on land.” 
At the end of her rules she caught your eye, speaking the last one almost directly to you. Like a reminder. As if you needed one. It made your chest hurt, your heart being squeezed torturously by an invisible vice. 
She was right though. You only got one night on land, one night to quench the insatiable thirst and gather enough blood for the members of your pod who were not allowed to join the hunt. 
Sea nymphs didn’t rely on blood to survive, it’s not the main source of food. Proteins and sea veggies like kelp and seaweed were a big part of an everyday diet. But human blood was a delicacy, and the key to immortality for a nymph. Just a drop of their blood, and a few ingredients, and you had the key to another ten years of youth. 
“We only have nine hours until sunrise. I do not care what you do in that time as long as all of your vials are full when you return and you follow those rules. Remember, when the sun comes up this is finished. If you do not make it back to the ocean by then… Well you get it by now.” For a mermaid Sarenya was quite blunt and cold, but when so many of your sisters fail to return over the years you kind of have to be. 
“Fleshlings stick by me until I say otherwise, everyone else, you know what to do.” Her golden eyes landed on yours once more with a reassuring glint to them before she strode off towards the bouncer, fleshlings in tow.
The two of you had been overseeing your pod’s hunt since 1693 when you were both promoted to Nympha Legatus, or Nymph Lieutenant. Rising in rank isn’t an easy thing to do, and it was rarely heard of especially since they usually lived forever, but that was an unusual circumstance. The hunt had started out as it usually did with the Nympha Legatus, Nymerian and Tessaya, leading your pod on the shore before breaking off for the night. As the night progressed things went horribly wrong. It had been a year since anyone had been on land and no one was aware of the witch mania that had overtaken the town of Salem. Along with a few others, Nymerian and Tessaya were captured, accused of being witches and thrown in jail to which they never made it back to the sea. Upon returning to the Nympha Ducem, Nymph Commander, you and Sarenya were the only two old enough within the pod to assume the position which required one mermaid and one siren. Since then she has been by your side through everything. You looked out for one another and always made sure the other made it back to the sea even if they had wavering thoughts. 
“Alright everyone, you heard Sarenya, you do what you need to and get back to the beach before sunrise. This isn’t your first Hunt. You know what to expect and how to handle it and we expect you to do just that. Enjoy yourselves, but don’t return home empty handed. Good luck…” Your silver eyes flitted to each of theirs briefly before continuing on the last note before separating. 
“Carpe Noctem.” Their voices mingled with your own as they recited the phrase with you. Sharing smiles, you and the pod turned towards the bar and made your way to the big guy in front of the door. 
Convincing him to let you in was easy. There was no need to use compulsion on him, your beauty taking care of that all on its own. When he asked for an I.D. however, you knew you had to turn it on. Pretending to look for the nonexistent item you pat down your pockets before giving him a sad, doe-eyed look. 
“Oh no… It seems like I left it at home. If I tell you a secret will you let me in?” You could feel the power roll off your tongue, sweet and thick like honey coating each word. The bouncer’s eyes glazed over and he leaned forwards at your request. 
“You don’t need to see my I.D. or any of the girls behind me. You know us.” He straightened back up, his eyes still in a haze. 
“Oh I didn’t realize that was you! Go on in ladies, I don’t need an I.D. for my best girls.” 
There was muttering from the line of humans behind you. Most of them were women expressing their displeasure and jealousy and some were men who were fawning over you and your sisters. Human men were so simple, each one of them the same as the last, year after year. All but one had ever shown you any difference. 
The bouncer opened the door and stepped aside letting you walk past him into the crowded bar. Cigarette smoke lingered in the air and blurred your vision slightly as you push through people to find an empty spot to sit. In your experience the hunt always worked better when you let the humans come to you. It was nice to sit and enjoy your time on land, appreciating the music, observing the humans and their strange behaviors, and savoring the cocktails they made. There was work to be done, sure, but you had the time. 
After an hour had come and gone of observing and accepting drinks from different men you had found yourself in conversation with one. And by Zeus was he the most obnoxious human you had ever met. Ethan, or so you think you heard right, went on and on and on about how much money his family had and how nice his house was and how he just got back from Italy- blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. Pfft. Italy, big freaking whoop you had been there more times than you could count, and you really could not give less of a fuck about his money either. So trivial. 
Ethan, or was it Evan, who cares honestly he was about to be dead, kept talking even though you had zoned out long ago. For the last few minutes while what’s his face rambled on you were thinking how exactly you wanted to end his life. Would you promise him sex if he walked out of the club with you only to die in the alley? Or would you use your illusion and kill him right here without anyone noticing? You could also ask him to show you his ‘sick new lambo’ and bleed him dry all over the white leather seats he was raving about. New ideas kept popping into your head, each one better than the last, but your train of thought came to a screeching halt when you caught his eyes. 
He looked the same as he did every damn time. Long, slightly wavy chestnut brown hair, a soft yet strong jawline, plush soft lips, and gentle brown eyes lined with subtle dark circles underneath. No matter how many times you saw him he always seemed to steal the air from your lungs. 
Once his eyes were set on you they didn’t move. It was like he was trying to piece together where he recognized you from although you knew he never would. Your eyes bore into his own taking you back to when you first met. 
June 1713
Dover, England
Twenty years. It had only been twenty years since you were appointed Nympha Legatus which seems like a long time, but in the life of an immortal that’s nothing. Barely scratching the surface. 
The first ten years were rough. You and Sarenya had lost every single fleshling each year, none of them returning to the sea. Some were killed in random accidents, and the others just never made it back. On the eleventh year the first fleshling from your pod survived, finally giving you both hope that maybe you could do this. Maybe everything would be okay. Each year after more and more survived until only one or two didn’t return. That in itself was a success. 
Sarenya led the speech this year warning your sisters about pirates in the area, and human officers in the streets. Men were not so kind to women, especially pirates, and on land nymphs were at their most vulnerable, the Nympha Ducem deeming it illegal to use your abilities during the hunt in fear of causing suspicion amongst the humans. Deciding to hunt in a well populated port was dangerous, but it also offered a safety that desolate towns could not. More people meant you were less likely to be looked upon for being strangers, the sea was close by and there was safety in large crowds. 
“Carpe Noctem.” Everyone spoke the phrase in unison just as they had for centuries before, beginning the hunt. 
You wandered the streets for some time before finding a small pub to begin your night. Drunk men were always easy prey. But they were also unpredictable. A man who went by Billy had approached you shortly after entering the rickety establishment and offered his rum to you. The rum should have been the first indicator of who you were dealing with. The cutlass at his hip should’ve been the second. 
Between sips of the dark liquor and hollow flirting you had ended up in a back alley with Billy trying to execute your plan for killing him. You had sorely underestimated how aware, sober and strong he was. When he caught on that you were not going to do him any sexual favors the cutlass at his hip had been drawn to your neck with his other forearm laid across your chest, pressing your back into the rough brick. You squeezed your eyes shut and waited for whatever Billy was about to do, but nothing happened. 
The pressure against your chest lifted, and the cold metal of the blade at your throat was gone. When you opened your eyes Billy stood in front of you, his hands up in defense, shock and terror written all over his face, dagger pressed to his jugular. 
“Drop the cutlass. Now.” A male voice spoke from behind him, commanding but smooth. Billy did as the disembodied voice said, the sword clattering loudly, the metal banging and scraping against gravel. 
“Apologize to the lady.” 
“I- I‘m sorry miss. Won’t ha- happen again.” Billy stuttered, his legs shaking and hands trembling in the air. 
“Leave and don’t come back. If I see your face in Dover again I can’t promise I’ll be as kind a second time.” 
The man behind your attacker lifted the blade off his throat, nicking the skin ever so slightly drawing the smallest amount of blood. Finally free, Billy bolted down the street not staying to try and fight. You swore you saw his brown trousers darken as he ran away, streams of piss flowing down his legs. Coward. 
When the man straightened up from retrieving the cutlass off the ground you were able to see his face. His brown wavy hair was illuminated by moonlight, plush lips upturned at the corners into a gentle smile, and brown eyes twinkling in the silver beams from above. He was the most gorgeous human you had ever seen. 
His smile dropped a fraction when you made no movement, continuing to stare at him with wide eyes. He took a step back thinking he must have frightened you even more and mentally cursed himself. Instead you took a step forward wanting to not be any further from him than you already were. 
“It was not my intention to frighten you, my lady.” He hung his head in disappointment and shame, unable to meet your eyes again. 
“You did not frighten me, sir. I am just in awe of your beauty.” 
You wanted nothing more than to reach out for him. To touch him, and feel his smooth skin under your fingers. You kept your hands to yourself begrudgingly. 
The man’s head snapped up so quickly it looked like it hurt. Brown eyes were back on your own, a pink tint flushed onto his cheeks. 
“My beauty?” It was incredulous to him that a woman so fair, so breathtaking, was in awe of his beauty. 
“Yes.” You took another step closer to him as you spoke. 
“The most devine creature I have ever seen is calling me beautiful.” 
Your entire body froze. Every muscle and ligament locked in place and rigid. Creature. Did he know what you were? 
“Creature?” The word rolled off your tongue with disgust. A word you had always despised. 
“Well you certainly can not be human and possess the features of a goddess.” 
Just as your body had locked up in mere seconds, it relaxed hearing that what he had called you was a compliment. This was the first time you had actually liked the word creature. It was filled with endearment not disgust. 
“What is your name?” 
“Jacob.” 
“Thank you for stepping in, Jacob. I can only imagine what could have occurred had you not. Would you allow me to buy you a pint as a show of my appreciation and gratitude?” 
“Only if you’ll stay and enjoy one with me.” He beamed brighter than the moon overhead, eyes and smile wide. 
“I shall join you then.” 
The two of you walked down the cobblestone street back towards the small ale house you had come from with Billy. He had asked your name in which you told him earning yet another compliment. 
“A name just as beautiful as the woman who bears it.” 
You couldn’t describe what he was making you feel. There was never another time during your long life that you had ever felt so giddy and nervous around a human. Jacob was something special indeed. 
Time was lost on you once the two of you entered the pub and sat to enjoy a drink. Various conversations about either of you followed naturally, careful to think about your answers. You were not like him after all and one wrong thing could raise questions. 
“That’s a pretty blade.” You pointed to the dagger Jacob had set on the table, it had been the same one held to Billy’s neck. The weapon was fairly simple, a straight cross-guard that downturned slightly at the end and thinned out, the grip looked to be wrapped in leather leading to a round pommel with an atocha coin in the middle. 
“Thank you, I actually made it. I’m a silversmith.” 
Jacob was quite talented. Every piece of weaponry aside from Billy’s he had made himself. A few of the patrons in the tavern had also been carrying around his creations, all of them beautiful. He had taught himself how to fight with a sword, and how to play the guitar. He was the most intriguing human you had ever met. 
And yet he would die that night by your hand. 
Things had finally been going right for your pod in the last nine years, and you had almost thrown all of it down a trench because of some human. Wasting the night away talking to a human because he saved your life? Because he was a wonder to look at? No, that was not important. What was important was gathering the blood you needed and getting home. You had a mission. 
At least that’s what you told yourself when you drained the blood from Jacob, unable to stop. What you had to remind yourself when you saw his body limp and lifeless at your hands. It was what played in a loop in your head any time you thought of how you would never see his beauty again, how you would never admire another human in that way again. 
But you were wrong. Fate was cruel and twisted. 
You finally tore your eyes away from his and turned back to whatever his name was. He will come just as he always did, but this time you will be prepared. Finally taking a breath from speaking, Erik allowed for a lull in the conversation giving the opportunity for you to suggest the two of you find somewhere more private. Of course he was more than happy to oblige. Naïve human. 
Once Edwin was taken care of and you had your vile of blood, you cleaned the mess in the dirty alleyway as best as you could. The door you walked out of had been propped open from the cardboard box you wedged in the doorframe and you slipped back inside easily. Women filled the tiny bathroom, drunk and stumbling as you cleaned yourself up making sure there was no evidence left behind. Satisfied, you left the bathroom and made your way back to where you had been originally sitting. 
You sat there for some time watching the humans dance, talk and laugh trying to keep your eyes off of him. A truly fruitless distraction, your eyes trained on his form unable to look away. A part of you knew that you had to cherish this before it was too late. Not knowing how much time would pass before you did see him again. 
After what seemed like hours, although you’re sure it could’ve only been thirty minutes, he pushed off the table he was leaning against and made his way over to you. Trying to seem like you had not been staring at him all night, your eyes wandered elsewhere looking for anything remotely interesting. It wasn’t until he was basically right in front of you that you allowed your eyes to shift onto him. He stared down at you, the corners of his lips pulled into the smallest smile. 
“Alright if I join you?” His hand was outstretched, palm facing upwards and motioning to the empty seat next to you. 
“Not at all.” You smiled back at him and scooted over slightly on the small cushioned bench to make more room. 
“I wasn’t going to come over here since you were with someone earlier, but it appears that he left.” 
“Yeah,” You chuckled, “Honestly I’m glad I was able to ditch him. He was a bore. Had I known you’d come over sooner I would’ve gotten rid of him a long time ago.” 
“Is that so?” His eyebrows raised, the smile on his face only growing in size. You hummed a short “Mmm,” your eyes meeting his for the first time since he sat down.  
“I’m Jake by the way.” 
Jake extended his hand out to you and you took it, shaking his hand with a firm, but still soft grip. Neither of you could keep your eyes off the other. 
“Y/n.” 
“Fitting. A name just as beautiful as the woman bearing it.” You could feel your heart skip before it sank. You knew he would say it, but that didn’t make the pain any easier. He dropped your hand and lifted his glass up to his lips taking a sip. 
“Not much of a dancer I presume?” 
April 1865
Boston, Massachusetts  
People were everywhere. In the streets, in the bars, cheering, drinking, celebrating. The perfect time to begin the hunt. 
After separating from the pod you found yourself observing the humans while they celebrated victory. The civil war had just ended and their side won. It was fascinating to watch them dance and sing and drink to their hearts desire without any care in the world. 
So caught up in watching the humans, you hadn’t even noticed him in the crowd. But he had noticed you, of course he had. Not only were you the only person in all of Boston to not be celebrating in some way, but you were also stunning. 
“Not much of a dancer I presume?” 
The accent was much different, but the voice was the same. Your head snapped to where he was standing just left of you, shock wracking your entire body. How was it possible? He was dead. You had killed him over a hundred years ago. 
“Um… Uh- n-no. Not really.” You stumbled through the shock that had taken hold of you, mind racing. 
“I see… C’mon,” He held his hand out to you as an offering. When you didn’t take it he whispered, “If you don’t celebrate in some way they might think you’re a sympathizer. Take my hand.” 
You did as he asked and slid your hand into his. He pulled you up from the stoop you were occupying and led you into the street with all the other humans. Musicians were playing loudly out in the open, the songs always fast and upbeat keeping everyone moving. He dropped your hand once comfortable with where you were standing and began a dance you had never seen before. When you didn’t move an inch he stopped. 
“Do you not know how it goes?” 
“No.” Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip as you shook your head. 
“I’ll teach you. Follow my lead.” 
“Okay…” 
“Jacob. You can call me Jacob.” 
Song after song, dance after dance, Jacob leads you into each one. He taught you all the steps, keeping patience the entire time which would not have been an easy thing to do. While you were no fleshling, you definitely looked like it was your first time on legs with how uncoordinated you were. 
You talked as you danced the night away. Jacob was just as intriguing the second time you met him as he was the first. He was the same man you had met in 1713, but more modernized. Everything about him drew you in. 
Eventually the music died, the streets cleared and it was just you and Jacob left out in the night. The two of you were sitting on the steps of his porch talking under the stars and enjoying each other's company. At some point you were no longer looking at the empty street or the starry night sky, but looking at one another instead. Jacob’s eyes traversed every part of your face like he was trying to memorize even the smallest details. After a few moments of this he sighed dreamily. 
“May I kiss you?” 
“You want to kiss me?” 
“More than anything.” 
“Then yes, Jacob, you may.” 
You had kissed plenty of humans in your lifetime, none of them ever meaning anything significant. But when Jacob’s lips touched yours for the first time you had finally realized why humans liked to do this. Your entire body felt… alive. The feeling was the strangest, yet most blissful experience that you wished would never end. When he pulled away from you sadness ran through every fiber of your being, instantly missing the warmth of his soft lips.  
You would never forget the way Jacob looked at you after the kiss. His eyes were soft, a gentle smile gracing his pretty face, every bit of him glowing with something other than the light from the moon. You would’ve done anything to see him like this for the rest of your life. To feel like he had just made you feel for eternity. 
When the blissful haze cleared however, the longing vanished and panic quickly set in. What was he doing to you? This wasn’t right. You have a purpose and it is not to fall in love with a human. Get it together. Do your duty. 
Every other thought bounced back and forth, your heart and brain fighting for dominance. Your heart told you to let him live, you didn’t need to kill him, but your brain knew better. You needed to do it or you would come back year after year just to see him. Risk the safety of you and the pod for a human you could never be with. 
You had to kill him. 
“Thank you for tonight Jacob.” 
“The pleasure was all mine.” 
He had insisted on walking you home to which you didn’t fight. If he walked you home you could lead him to a quiet place to take his life. Maybe even somewhere beautiful. Jacob deserved more than to just be drained and dumped in some filthy alley. 
When he took you through the public garden you knew that was the place. So you led him down close to the pond underneath a willow tree, rays of light breaking through the wispy leaves that lay in drooping branches.
“Jacob?” You turned to him and gently grabbed both his hands. 
“Hmm?” 
“Kiss me again… Please?” There was the possibility that he would not come back like he had this time. A possibility that you would never feel his lips on yours again and you needed to experience it one last time. 
“Okay.” It was soft and breathy, and had the night been any more lively you weren’t sure you would’ve heard it. 
Jacob did as you asked, his lips pressed to yours like they had the first time. Tingles rolled through your body from head to toe crashing over you like waves. When you thought he would pull away and end the kiss he did something that surprised you. His tongue swept across your lower lip sending new vibrations along your spine, your body shivering slightly. Your own mouth acted without volition and opened against his lips. 
The feeling of his tongue gliding along yours like velvet was euphoric. Noises bubbled from your throat in sighs of pleasure to be swallowed by Jacob. His hands gripped your waist, fingertips pressing into the meat with desperate longing. You liked the way his hands felt on you, almost as intoxicating as his mouth. 
The kiss calmed and turned into short, slow kisses until your foreheads were resting against one another. You watched both of your chests rise and fall rapidly as you tried to regain your breath and slow your racing hearts. Neither of you said a word, just simply enjoying the moment. 
Do it now. Get it over with, the longer you delay the worse it’ll be. Do it. 
“May the flames of our souls dance together endlessly, Jacob.” You didn’t dare look at his face when you spoke your last words to him knowing you wouldn’t have it in you to do what needed to be done. 
As your teeth sank into the delicate skin of his neck you prayed for it to be over quickly. Each desperate gasp of breath was a stab to your already fragile heart, and you were thankful you couldn’t see his face. 
When he finally fell unconscious you filled the vile with his blood quickly before returning to finish what you started. Each pull of your mouth was a physical battle within yourself knowing that if you left now, before it was too late, he’d live. You could save him if you stopped. But that wasn’t an option anymore. You had to see it through. 
You laid him down gently beneath the willow, teardrops dotting his skin, and cried harder at the sight of them. Had you been crying the whole time, you weren’t sure, but deep down you knew you had been. Brushing his hair from his face you looked at him one last time and pressed a shaky kiss to his forehead. 
You had never run faster or sobbed harder in your life than you had that night.
“Something like that. I’m not one for this type of dancing or music if I’m honest.” You shrugged looking out at the people jumping and grinding to the music the DJ played. 
“I’m not either, but my younger brothers wanted to check it out so I appeased them,” His eyes were trained on the crowd as he spoke, “I was starting to regret coming, and was just telling my brother I was going to leave.” 
You peeled your eyes away from the people dancing on the floor and looked at Jake. He did the same, turning his focus back to you. 
“Oh really? What made you change your mind?” 
“Well I saw the most gorgeous woman looking like she’d rather be anywhere but here.” A cheeky smile formed on his lips. You’d forgotten how smooth he always was, your own lips breaking into a small smile. 
“Would you wanna get out of here?” 
“And go where?” 
“I know a place.” Jake stood from his spot on the bench and set his drink on the table. When he turned to you he had his arm extended for you to take. His face gave a look of ‘what do you say?’ 
“Better be a good place.” You smiled and took his hand letting him lead you out of the noisy club. When the two of you stepped outside onto the street his hand dropped yours, the warmth he brought quickly dissipating. The action made you sad, wanting nothing more than to touch him again. 
You weren’t sure where he was taking you, but you trusted him and let him lead you down the wet streets. The two of you talked, and just as you had expected he was the same as each time before just with slight differences. He was a musician now, self made of course, and in a band with his brothers. It was almost relieving to hear that there was finally a version of him in which he played music. You knew he was destined for this profession, his love and devotion for the art always remaining throughout the decades. 
Eventually you came to the entrance of a park shrouded with hundreds of trees and flowers. He continued to walk down the pathway, a destination clear in mind. You couldn’t help but look in awe at the breathtaking scenery around you, all the trees and flowers, the moonlight bouncing off the large pond that sat in the middle of the park. You wondered what it might look like in the daytime. 
Since you had left the club there had not been a moment of silence. Comfortable, casual conversation flowed easily between you, talking about anything and everything you could think of. Jake was well read in human history and literature, things you knew much about having lived through most of them. While you only came upon the shore for one night each year you liked to keep tabs on what was happening with the humans as it usually impacted the lives of the nymphs greatly. Especially as technology advanced. 
The two of you came to a bench surrounded by large drooping trees that overlooked the pond, and your chest tightened. The scene before you looked strikingly similar to the public garden in Boston where you had taken Jake’s life almost two hundred years ago. Images of his lifeless state came flooding back to you, tears pricking your eyes. You took a deep breath and closed your eyes, willing the tears back down. When you opened your eyes again and looked at the trees more closely you breathed a small sigh of relief. They were not willows, but instead oak trees covered in spanish moss that were still living. And they were hauntingly beautiful.
“I like to come here at night when I’m stuck on a melody or riff I can’t quite work out. There’s something about this place that’s so peaceful and reminiscent. Which sounds ridiculous since I don't even know what I could possibly reminisce about in a place like this.” He sat on the bench and looked out over the water as he spoke, like he truly was thinking back to something. You tried to deny that maybe in some way he remembered that night in Boston as you sat beside him. It was easier to lie to yourself than accept that old pieces of his lives that involved you lingered.
The night had grown somewhat cold and a chill ran through your body as wind swept through the trees. Jake noticed the way your arms wrapped tightly around your body and wordlessly took off his light jacket, placing it around your shoulders. 
“Thank you, but you didn’t-“ 
“I wanted to.” 
The skin of your cheeks burned, heat creeping along your face and down your neck. You were thankful for the thickly coated trees overhead as they blocked out most of the moonlight and hid your growing blush. With the wind dying, you could smell his natural musk that wafted from the jacket, woodsy and clean like driftwood that sat on the beach. The smell flooded your senses, reminding you of the last time you had seen him. 
September 1923
Charleston, South Carolina 
Prohibition made hunting harder. Without the effect of alcohol humans tended not to hang around in large groups and were more difficult to subdue, but thankfully speakeasies existed. Sure finding a human who knew where one was could be a challenge, but once you did find one who could point you in the right direction they would do so of their own free will. 
Bourbon and Branch was where you had found yourself this night for the hunt. The darkly lit underground club was congested with smoke from cigarettes and cigars, the sound of jazz filled the space. There couldn't have been a better place to prey on humans and you certainly took advantage of it, your body count for the evening rising higher and higher. Were you out of control? No, not yet, but hey it was the roaring twenties, everyone was on the verge of losing what little grip they had on self control. It didn’t help that you had been nursing your self loathing and pain since 1865.
Every waking moment that fateful night played on a loop in your mind. Over and over. You would do anything to get through the day without thinking about him, and human blood helped take your mind off of everything. The more you drank, the better you felt, the less you thought of him, but the more you drank, the more you pushed yourself further to the edge. You were quickly becoming a liability to the pod with each hunt that took place. It’s not that you didn’t care that you were endangering the pod, you just couldn’t see past your own misery to realize that what you were doing was dangerous.
You had lost track of just how many bodies you had left in the alley behind the speakeasy that night. It was nearing double digits, but you didn’t care and instead headed back inside the small club to find your next meal. When you slipped back inside though the image of the next human you had intended on targeting vanished instantly. 
Sitting in a booth with a drink in hand looking at home was the man who haunted you. His eyes seemed to be scanning the room, like he was looking for something in particular when they landed on you. You didn’t dare take your eyes off of him, fearing that maybe the blood had gotten to your head. You watched as he said something to one of the men who sat by his side, identical to him in some ways, before sliding out of the booth and walking towards you. Not once did his eyes leave yours. 
It felt like catching up with an old friend in some weird way. You know the person down to their core, but aspects of their life have changed, and small parts of them have too. Most of the night was spent in the Bourbon and Branch just talking with Jacob and getting to know what he was like in this life. There were plenty of smiles, laughs and flirting, and you were floating on air. And when he kissed you that night it was as if no time had passed, like you were back in 1865 sitting on his porch steps under the stars. 
When the bar had finally closed for the night, neither of you could bring yourselves to say goodbye. Jacob invited you back to his house with his brothers and their partners as a proper way to wind down after a night out. More secret booze and music. The lot of you danced and drank for what seemed like hours before everyone either left or went to bed leaving you and Jacob out to enjoy the night alone. The two of you talked and talked until talking led to gentle touches, those touches turned to kissing, and the kissing led to something you had never done.  
While painful at first, the feeling that came after was truly unlike anything you had ever experienced. Nothing would compare to the overwhelming euphoria you and Jacob had shared that night. Images of him above you, bare and glistening with sweat while his light brown eyes bore into your own were seared in your brain. The scent of driftwood and sea salt was all around you, enveloping you wholly. His whispers of praise, encouragement, and adoration echoed forever in your head. How beautiful you were and how good you felt. How utterly perfect you were. If you thought you liked the way his hands felt on you once long ago, you loved how they felt on you tonight. You loved the pleasure he could bring you with just a drag of his finger, and how gentle he was. So gentle like he was afraid he would break you. When you reached your peak you felt nothing but pure pleasure, every thought and memory erased from your mind that wasn’t him. He invaded every part of your being.
Afterwards the two of you laid in his bed, bare and pressed against one another. No words were spoken, but none needed to be. You were both content to exist in the moment listening to each breath the other took while his fingers traced mindless shapes and paths across your skin. The only noise that could be heard was Jacob humming softly, a tune that had no real body like it was something he made up as it came to him. 
When he finally fell asleep you slipped out from underneath his arm carefully to not wake him and redressed. You had decided you would not repeat history this time. You wouldn’t be the cause of his death, you couldn’t do it again. You knew had you taken his life a third time you would come apart at the seams completely. While you were unsure if he would ever come back to you since you had let him live, it was a chance you were willing to take. For one last time you admired him in the faint glow of the candles by his bed, and this time as you looked upon him you didn’t have to tell yourself he was sleeping. 
“May the flames of our souls dance together endlessly, my love.” Your hand caressed his cheek and you bent down to place a gentle kiss to his forehead before you made your exit. You had barely made it to the ocean when the sun rose that morning, your first true close call. To you though it was well worth it.
“So you’re in a band? Do you enjoy it?” You pulled his jacket tighter around your frame hoping to trap in more heat and cocoon yourself in his smell. 
“I love it. It’s been my dream for so long to be a musician and I don’t think I would trade anything in the world for it.” When he spoke you could feel the excitement pour off of him. He truly loved what he was doing and that made you happy- knowing that he was happy. 
“I’m sure it's not easy though being in a band with your brothers.”
“Everyone thinks that, but it’s not always difficult. Sure tempers fly, and things get smashed or broken, but nothing will ever come between us that we can’t overcome. We’re family, we’ll always have each other’s backs.” 
You could understand where he was coming from. Your pod was your family, each member was a sister to you biological or not, and the hunt was your job. Things get dicey every now and then, but for the most part you just tried to do what was best for your family and looked out for one another.
Another hour had passed just sitting under the trees talking about everything and nothing at all. It had taken all the strength you had to not shiver uncontrollably from head to toe till now, Jake’s jacket not doing much anymore. You were positively freezing. The cold finally won, and violent shakes wracked your body. 
“I have this beautiful hand-made dagger from the 1700s, absolutely exquis-“ His sentence stopped abruptly on the count of way your body jolted continuously and he began to rub his hands up and down the length of your biceps, “C’mon let’s get you somewhere warm, you’re shaking like a leaf.” 
Jake stood from the bench, his hands falling away from your arms for a moment to help you stand. When the two of you began to walk he was next to you, his arm wrapped around the back of your body so both of his hands were back on your upper arms. The friction from his hands did heat your body slightly, but not enough to subdue the intense shivering. 
“My place isn’t far from here, is that alright?” When you turned to answer him you came practically nose to nose with him. He was so close that the only thing you could see in front of you were his honey brown irises. 
“Um, yeah that’s fine. How far away are we?”  
“About seven minutes, think you’ll make it that far?” The smallest hint of a smile drew the corner of his mouth upwards, his top lip curling the tiniest bit. 
While you didn’t spend most of your time around humans you knew when one was making a joke. Or in this case, poking fun at you. Instead of finding it offensive the jest was rather endearing. Nonetheless you rolled your eyes playfully.
“Yes I can make it that far.” You finally willed yourself to look away from his mesmerizing face and stare out ahead of you. A part of you feared that if you didn’t look away now, you never would. 
Shortly after leaving the park you had stopped shivering and Jake’s hands stopped their vigorous movements on your arms to rest at his sides. It seemed silly, but you mourned his touch as soon as it left your body and you decided to ask him about the dagger from earlier to distract yourself. 
“You were telling me earlier about a dagger that you have?” 
“Oh yeah, I forgot I was nerding out a little.” A breathy laugh escaped from between his lips. It was more of a huff of air than an actual laugh. His focus was on his boots as he walked beside you on the concrete sidewalk. 
“Tell me about it? I would love to know more.” 
“Yeah, uh,” He looked up to you with an expression that looked something similar to disbelief mixed with excitement. “It’s a beautiful handcrafted dagger from the early 18th century I believe. It’s a family heirloom, been passed down to the Kiszka men when they turn twenty-five. That’s how old my ancestor was when he made it.” 
His hands waved about and fidgeted as he spoke like it was something he did out of nervous habit, but you think he just liked to keep his hands busy. You knew exactly which blade he had been referring to, there was no doubt in your mind. The weapon had to be the same blade used to strike fear into the heart of Billy back in Dover, England. The same blade which you complimented later on in the night. 
“This is me.” Jake stopped in front of a large house, very modern and elegant looking, but simple, and dug his keys out from the depths of his pockets. While he fidgeted with the keys you took the opportunity to slide the vial of blood you had collected from earlied out of your pocket and drop it gently in one of his bushes by door to grab in the morning.
He opened the door and walked inside, holding the door open for you to follow behind him. As soon as you stepped through the threshold of his home, warmth flooded over your entire body.
Jake’s home on the inside reflected the outside, modern and sleek, but it still had a cozy and comfortable element to it. In a way it somewhat reminded you of his home in the 1920’s. 
You followed him deeper into the house through a hallway that led into a living room and kitchen. The areas were separated by a black granite bar top that had bar stools lined along the wall facing into the kitchen. Jake walked around the bar into the kitchen and you decided to stay on the other side, standing next to a stool. He looked at you from the other side, his hands on top of the black surface and his upper body leaning towards you.
“Would you like anything to drink? Water, tea, booze?” 
“Hmm, tea sounds quite nice. Would you by any chance happen to have any peppermint tea?” 
“As a matter of fact, I do.” He smiled at you fondly before turning around and walking to a cabinet on the wall behind him. He opened the cabinet and pulled two mugs off the shelf before closing it and opening another one to rummage through it. When he found the proper tea he filled the kettle up with water and set it on the stove to bring to a boil. 
“You can sit, you know, make yourself comfortable.” He was facing you now, back pressed against the island in the center of the kitchen, his hands resting on the countertop behind him and his legs cross at the ankle. You knew with the tone of his voice and the soft smile on his face that he was just trying to make you feel more welcome.
“Thank you, although I’m content standing for now.” You smiled back at him gently with your upper body leaned into the cool black stone. Jake only offered an amused hum in response, continuing to stare at you with fond eyes. 
“What?”
“Nothing… You’re just so beautiful,” His focus shifted to the ground and he shook his head, a giddy smile still splayed across his lips. “When I saw you at the club tonight I almost couldn’t muster up the courage to speak to you, and now you’re in my house and I’m making tea for you, and…” He looked up from the ground and met your eyes again. “You’re just so beautiful.” 
You pushed off of the counter and made your way into the kitchen where he was standing. Neither of you looked away from the other the closer you got. 
“I think,” You stopped in front of him and lightly draped your arms around his shoulders. His hands lifted from the countertop behind him and rested on your hips. “That you are quite beautiful.” 
He was quiet for a moment, your compliment stunning him. He continued to stare at you in wonder and your eyes stayed locked on his.
“Me? Beautiful?” 
“Breathtaking.”
His hand left your waist, his palm coming to rest on your jaw with his thumb splayed across your cheek, and his fingers laid against your neck just under your ear. 
“C’mere.”
Jake pulled you closer to him, his fingers curling gently around the back of your neck, his lips pressing to yours. Just like each time before your skin felt tingly, spreading from your head all the way down your toes. You could feel his lips still curled upwards into the smile he was wearing as he kissed you. After a beat or two he pulled away from you. 
The second his lips lifted from your own you felt the immediate longing of wanting to feel their warmth and softness again. It felt like sand slipping through your fingers. 
However, his mouth was back on yours continuously pressing quick, tender kisses upon your lips over and over. With each time he pulled away, the amount of time between the kisses grew shorter like he couldn’t bring himself to pull away from you entirely. Not only did they become shorter, but they quickly became more heated and needy. Jake’s tongue ran the length of your bottom lip and you welcomed it happily, parting your lips with a low hum. You didn’t fight him for dominance and instead let his tongue explore your mouth as he pleased. The tip of his tongue teased the roof of your mouth slowly from the back to the front before he met your lips again and his tongue brushed against your own. 
He walked forward a few steps and used the hand placed on your hip to turn the two of you in an one-eighty, and then walked you backwards. Your back pressed into the edge of the island countertop, Jake’s chest and hips pressed flush against your own, his hand moving to tangle into the soft tresses of your hair. Everything he did was gentle, careful not to push too far. Even with his body pressed into yours there was no overwhelming force. 
Your hands wound into his hair, pulling him impossibly closer to you and earning a groan from Jake in return. He grabbed both your hips in his hands and grinded his growing erection into your core. You couldn’t help the way your head lulled back, breaking the kiss. Taking advantage of your exposed neck, he trailed kisses down the column of the soft skin. His mouth worked slowly, dragging out each open mouthed, hot kiss with his tongue licking over the area before moving to place the next one.
“Jake.” His name rolled off your tongue in a whisper, broken and whiny. You hadn’t meant to say his name out loud, but the reaction you pulled from him was worth it. The tips of his fingers dug into your hips harder and vibrations rumbled from his mouth through your neck with the low moan he released. 
“Sounds so pretty when you say it like that, darling.” His teeth scraped across your skin with the next kiss just barely applying any pressure. 
“Fuck, Jake.” 
His teeth grazed the delicate skin once again, adding in another roll of his hips into yours. He was much harder now and the friction he supplied was making your head dizzy. You wanted more of him, so much more of him. In the background you could hear the kettle whistle loudly on the stove signifying it was ready. 
“Water’s ready for tea.” Jake’s voice was low and husky while still moving his mouth down your throat. 
“Forget the tea. I need you, please.” Your hand traveled between your bodies to palm his clothed length. His lips finally ceased their assault, his forehead resting on your clavicle with a sharp breath pulled into his lungs.
“Oh darling,” He lifted his head from your chest to look into your eyes. There was a fire in his eyes this time that you had never seen before, dark and swirling beneath the surface. “Have me you shall.” 
He stepped away from you and grabbed your hand, pulling you behind him. He walked over to the stove quickly turning off the burner and setting the kettle aside. Once the fire hazard was taken care of he pulled you into him again and reconnected your lips. You were walking backwards, unsure of where exactly he was directing the two of you, but you couldn’t care less. Your fingers fumbled with the buttons on his shirt popping them open one by one. In return, Jake was working to unbutton your pants. When the last button was undone on his shirt you pushed the light material away from his shoulders and let your hands roam his warm skin. He was solid under your hands, yet still delicate. You loved the way his chest and stomach felt, obsessed with how sturdy and soft he was at the same time. 
He moved on to your shirt once the button on your pants was undone and the zipper had been pulled down. You could feel the material slipping lower on your hips ever so slightly with each step you took. Jake pulled your shirt up over your head by the hem and dropped it to the floor, and you took one more step backwards before your back hit what you assumed was a door. His hand flew out and twisted the knob opening the door. He continued to walk you backwards into his room until the back of your knees came into contact with his bed. 
You let out a shocked gasp, your knees buckling underneath you and falling rather ungracefully onto the bed while pulling Jake with you. He was able to stop himself from crushing you fully, his arms on either side of your head. When the initial surprise subsided the two of you broke into a fit of giggles unable to contain them. 
“Sorry, I should’ve stopped.” He pushed himself up from the bed to stand still chuckling slightly.
“It’s okay.” One last giggle escaped from your lips as he made to stand. He was wedged between your legs while he looked down at you. 
The look in his eyes from before had returned, quickly stirring the heat in your core again. While you were still wearing your bottoms, the top you had been wearing was long gone revealing your bare chest to him for the first time. He leaned forward and placed his hands on both sides of your hips. His fingers gripped the tops of the waistbands on your pants and underwear. 
“Can I?” There was a gruff tone to his voice now when he spoke. 
“Please.” 
Jake didn’t waste anymore time and tugged the clothing from your body. There was no rush, taking his time undressing your lower half, and you propped yourself up on your elbows to have a better view of him. He dropped your bottoms to the ground and stood up straight to have a better view of your naked body. 
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone more stunning.” His eyes trailed along your body, drinking in every inch. You sat up fully, your face level with his toned abdomen and your hands toying with the waistband of his trousers. 
“I have.” 
The sight of you below him made his dick twitch. You were looking up at him almost innocently with your hands and mouth mere inches away from his aching cock. The very thought of having your mouth so close to him made him almost cum right there. 
You started to undo the button and fly on his pants while placing sweet kisses to his stomach just above his navel, never breaking eye contact. Once the button was taken care of and you moved onto the zipper you trailed the light kisses lower and lower until your bottom lip brushed the top of his underwear. You drew your lips from the heated skin of his torso and hooked your fingers into his pants like he had just done to you. 
“May I?” You were still so close to him that your breath fanned over his skin and sent shivers through his body. 
“Oh god, yes.” The words were filled with air and flew out in a hushed whisper. 
You pulled the fabric down his legs taking the boxers down with his pants. His hardened length sprang free, the tip slapping his lower belly gently. You were mesmerized with how gorgeous every part of him was, and while it had been over a hundred years since you had seen him bare, he was the same as before. When you got the top of his pants past his sturdy thighs they dropped freely the rest of the way down his legs. 
Jake stepped out of the trousers carefully before bending down to cup your cheek and bring his lips back to yours. He laid you back slowly as he kissed you, kneeling on the bed with one knee between your legs. His other hand rested on your hip and pressed into you guiding you to move further up the bed. 
Satisfied with where you were, Jake laid into you more fully. His forearm was braced into the mattress next to your head, his chest brushing yours with each heaving breath, and his heavy cock nestled in the crevice where your thigh met your groin. 
His fingers skirted from your hip down the outside of your thigh just barely touching the heated skin. With the same pressure his hand crossed over the top of your thigh and slowly inched its way up to your core. Every touch his fingers made on your skin left behind a trail of raised skin in their wake. A breathy moan was pulled from your lips as he ran his middle and index fingers up your slit slowly. 
“Fuck, you’re so wet.” Jake groaned against your lips. 
Your hips bucked into his hand involuntarily as his fingers swept over your clit for the first time. You writhed under his touch earning a smile from his lips that you could feel against your own before he began kissing his way down your neck towards your chest. Even as he moved down your body you could still feel the smile he wore. His fingers swirled your clit in tight, slow, figure eights while his tongue gave an experimental flick to your perked nipple. Your back arched from the bed, pushing your chest into him silently begging for more. He loved how responsive you were, and you could tell. Each time you reacted to his touches, you felt his hard length twitch and pulse against your hip. 
His lips wrapped around your nipple fully, sucking and licking the bud, earning the sweetest sounds from your open mouth. Not once did his fingers stop moving against your clit and you were quickly being brought to the edge of ecstasy. He pulled his mouth from your breast with a soft pop and kissed lower down your belly. A soft giggle bubbled in your throat as his lips passed over a sensitive area of your stomach, his lips tickling you. He huffed a laugh at the way your muscles contracted and you squirmed under his touch only making the tickling sensation worse. 
“Sorry.” He laughed with you, his eyes catching yours. 
“S’okay.” 
You reach a hand down into his hair encouraging him to continue where he left off. Jake did as you implied and kissed further down your abdomen to your core, looping his arms around your hips and thighs. He kept eye contact as he placed one last kiss to your center right on your clit. When his tongue licked a stripe through your folds his eyes fluttered shut. He hummed against your soaked heat, the vibrations flowing through your entire body. Your fingers wound tighter into his hair and your hips begged for him to be closer. 
He slid his tongue back up your slit, collecting your arousal and wrapped his lips around your clit once at the top. He sucked the sensitive bundle into his mouth, flicking his tongue against it rapidly. Your entire body felt like it was on fire and your head was becoming more fuzzy with each roll of the wet, velvet muscle. Whines and moans of pleasure rolled out from your throat, his name mixed in along with them sweetly. Just when you were about to be sent over the edge you pulled his mouth from your core and back up to your own. His chest and torso were pressed to yours, now propped up on his knees between your spread legs. 
You could taste yourself on his lips and tongue. Sweet with a hint of saltiness. Like watermelon lightly sprinkled with salt on a summer’s day. You wanted more.
“Jake, please,” You whispered against his lips between feverish kisses trying desperately to get the words out. “I need you. I need all of you. Please, please.” 
“Say it again.” His hand pressed down between your sticky bodies, gripping his length.
“I need all of you.” 
“Say my name again.” He ran his swollen head through your wet lips, and coated himself in your slick. 
“Please Jake.” He pressed into you slowly, the tip just inside as you spoke his name causing it to hitch in your throat. Your walls fluttered around him trying desperately to adjust to his size while he continued to push the rest of the way inside you. Your arms wrapped around the underside of his arms holding him close to you with your hands resting on the tops of his shoulders. The sound of his heavy breaths cascaded into your ear, his head dropped with his chin resting on your shoulder between your cheek and his hand. 
“Oh fuck, you’re so tight.” He took a few ragged breaths. “Are you alright if I move?”
“Yeah, I-I’m okay.” Your voice cracked in a whisper already sounding fucked out.  
Jake withdrew his hips from yours slowly, his thick length gliding out easily until just the tip of his head remained inside at your entrance. He pushed back in faster than before, but still at a steady pace. His other hand that was placed next to your head shifted so that he was cradling your head in his hand and gently pushing your opposite cheek into his. 
With each push and pull of his hips to yours, both of your breathing became heavier, filled with moans and whispers of praise. He brushed your cervix upon every re-entry and grazed a spot that made your entire body explode in pleasure. 
There was no doubt how good he was making you feel, and while you knew you were making him feel the same pleasures, you wanted to physically be responsible. 
“Jake.” You tapped his shoulder lightly to get his attention. He quickly stopped all movement and lifted his face, looking at you with worry etched onto his features. 
“Are you okay? Did I do something wrong?” 
Your heart practically melted at his sincerity, and you couldn’t help but smile up at him. Worry changed to confusion at the sight of you smiling.
“Yes, I’m okay. I just, um,” You weren’t sure how to tell him exactly what you wanted. Mainly because you didn’t know what exactly it was that you wanted. “I want to… You’re just making me feel so good, and I… I want to make you feel good.” 
“Baby,” A breathy chuckle left his lips, and his head fell, shaking lightly, “You’re already making me feel good. So unbelievably good.” He looked back up at you, the corner of his mouth pulled upwards showing off the smallest portion of his top teeth. 
“I just want to… actively make you feel good.” You tried to reiterate to him what you meant. 
“Are you trying to tell me that you want to be on top?” 
You nodded your head slowly and watched the adoring smile on his face grow. Without much warning, his arm hooked around the back of your knee securing it closer to his body as he started to roll onto his back. He was seated fully inside you as he changed your positions, making you feel much more full once you were sat on him completely. 
You wiggled your arms out from under his shoulders and sat up using his chest to stabilize yourself. He looked even more gorgeous below you than above with his skin shiny from sweat and his hair falling in waves around where his head rested. You stared at him for a moment longer taking in the way he looked and feeling how firm his chest and tummy felt. 
You also weren’t sure what you were supposed to do, so you were sort of stalling. 
“I, um, I’ve never really done this before…” Your gaze fell to watch your fingers dance along his tanned, smooth skin. 
Jake didn’t respond. Instead his hands found your waist and gave you a reassuring squeeze making you look back to his face. 
“I’ll show you.” 
His hands lifted your hips ever so slightly before angling them forward gently. He continued to guide you upwards at this angle until you reached the end of his length. Just before he slipped out completely, you rolled your hips backwards again with the guidance of his hands and took him down to his base. He repeated the motion a few times to help you get a feel for it, each time speeding up just a little. 
“If something feels good, follow it. Don’t think too much about what you want to do. Just let your body be the guide.” Not once did his hands stop guiding you while he spoke.
You started to take more control by lifting your hips on your own and changing the angle to take him down deeper. His hands stayed on your hips with his fingers extending to your ass. The more comfortable you got, the more you rolled your hips and sped up causing Jake’s fingertips to dig into the meat of your backside. 
“That’s it. Doing so good.” 
You did what he told you and just let your body do what it wanted to naturally. Carefully, you leaned back placing your hands on the outsides of his shins and kept moving your hips forward. With the new angle you could feel a searing hot tightness form in your lower belly with each thrust. You could see his cock, glistening in your juices, disappear in and out of you which only spurred you on more. You looked up to Jake to see him watching you slide along his length, his lips parted and his chest heaving. He caught your eyes and his hands traveled up your back. 
“C’mere.” 
He pulled you back to him, his lips crashing into yours and his hips bucking up into you. A loud moan ripped from your throat and was sent straight into his mouth. You could do nothing for a moment, but lay on top of him and let his hips do all the work, his thrusts disabling your mind and body. When you did finally push back onto him, his breath hitched before a deep groan tore from his chest and his hands gripped you harder. It took you a few tries to find the right rhythm, but after a few moments his hips were thrusting up to meet your own on their descent. Curses and praises tumbled freely from him, air filled and raspy. The movements were perfectly timed and you could feel yourself on the edge of the cliff once again. His kisses became sloppy, filled mostly with grunts and breathy moans against your lips. 
“I’m close. A-are you, shit, are you almost there?” He sighed, his breath fanning over your face.
“Yeah, I’m- I’m about to- Oh fuck, Jake.” Your orgasm hit you before you could even finish your sentence. Intense pleasure ignited every inch of your body as your muscles contracted, squeezing his cock like a vice. His name slipped off your tongue over and over as he helped you ride out the high while chasing his own. 
It was his name falling from your lips continuously like a mantra while you came that had him reaching his own climax. Soft whimpers, moans and gasps spilling from his lips and swirled around your head. He pulled you into his chest further, hugging you tight to his chest and kissed you harder until his hips slowed to a stop inside you. 
Neither of you made to move for a few minutes, both of you entirely spent. Your entire body weight was being supported by him as you laid on top of his chest and stomach trying to come down. Jake was the first to move. He helped you up and gently guided you to lay on your back before making his way off the bed with a promise to return. When he came back he was holding a wet cloth and a glass of water. He cleaned your mixed release up from between your legs tenderly, and then disposed of the cloth in his dirty laundry basket. You gulped down the water while you waited for him to return again. A few moments later he came back and crawled back into his bed laying next to you. As soon as Jake laid down you started to get out of his bed to leave for the night needing to return back to the sea. 
“Hey, you don’t have to go. You can stay- If you want to, I mean-” He fumbled over his words trying to get across what he wanted to say properly. You couldn’t get over how cute he looked, his cheeks getting pink from being flustered. He cleared his throat and tried again. “I would like for you to stay.” 
“I can stay for a little bit longer.” 
You smiled at him softly and eased back into the bed beside him. He pulled you closer to him and wrapped his arm around your shoulder. You rested your head on his chest, his skin warming your cheek, and laid your arm across his stomach. The two of you stayed wrapped up in each other’s arms until you drifted off to sleep, the slow rise and fall of his chest soothing you. Just before sleep took you under you heard him mutter something in his sleepy haze. 
“I’ve waited for you.” You could barely register what he said, already half asleep and in a dreamy haze yourself. 
A faint yellow glow woke you from your dreamless sleep. Sunlight beamed into your eyes when you finally got up the courage to pry them open, and your heart sank to your stomach. It was daytime and you hadn’t made it back to the ocean. You frantically threw the covers off of your still naked body, jolting Jake awake in the process. You began searching all around the room for your clothes having no luck in locating a single item of clothing. Jake’s hand around your wrist finally stopped you. You hadn’t realized that he had been talking to you the entire time.
“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” His eyes searched your face, his soft voice trying to calm you down while his thumb rubbed circles on your wrist.
“I can’t find any of my clothes, and I have to leave. I can’t believe I missed sunrise, I-” You stopped talking immediately, the words dying in your throat. You had missed sunrise, by hours, and yet you were still alive. How the hell were you still alive? 
You felt disoriented and nauseous, the edges of your vision blurring and your hearing starting to muffle. The pounding of your heartbeat thundered in your ears completely blocked out whatever Jake had said to you. Your mind raced trying to make sense of what was happening. There was only one possibility that could explain it. 
“It was all a lie…” You muttered to yourself still in shock, forgetting that Jake was still there. 
“What was a lie?”
“Um,” You shook your head, trying desperately to clear the fog from your mind. When you shifted your focus back onto his face, you instantly felt at ease. The nausea subsided, and your hearing came back in full. The black edges around your vision faded away allowing you to focus on his face, seeing clearly the lines of worry between his furrowed brows. 
“Nothing. I- I think I was having a bad dream… I’m okay now.” 
“Are you sure? You had me stressed out there for a second.” His thumb was still rubbing against your skin in soothing motions. 
“Yeah, I’m good now.” You gave him a reassuring smile and tried your best to make him believe it.
It was the truth though. You felt better and it was because of him. With just a look of his face you knew this was your destiny all along. For centuries you pondered over why the universe had always brought him back to you, and now you knew. You were always meant to be with Jake. 
“Okay, good… So you don’t have any plans for today?” 
“No, I have nothing planned.” He smiled at you then, and you had never felt better in your entire life. 
“Would you wanna grab some breakfast then? I’d like to spend more time with you.” 
“I would absolutely love that.” 
———————————————————————
Your bare feet sunk into the warm, white sand with each step you took along the beach. Carrying your shoes in one hand and the other intertwined with Jake’s you looked out to the open water of the sea. The sun was setting over the water creating beautiful orange glitters across the top of the small waves. While the blinding light burned your eyes you couldn’t turn away. Sunset was your favorite time of day and the scenic view of your old home had you somewhat reminiscent. 
Roughly eight months had passed since the night of the hunt. In that time you’ve been adjusting to living life as a human which was quite different than living as a nymph. The biggest adjustment was probably the loss of your powers. Or getting a job, that was pretty difficult. Throughout the whole process Jake was there though. The two of you had started dating and eventually you had to come clean about your true nature, especially when you didn’t understand the simple things that came with human life. Cell phones, bills, cars, rent, social media. It was all very foreign to you and Jake never understood. 
When you did finally tell him about being a nymph and coming from the sea he truly didn’t believe you. He thought you had made the whole thing up which you understood. After a while and some very confusing conversations about the aforementioned topics, he finally believed that you were not originally human. The most convincing aspect for him were your eyes. You were able to hide them for a few months before your powers faded completely, but when your abilities were gone he finally was able to see your glittery silver irises. Now though, your eyes too have since faded and changed color allowing you to look fully human. 
He asked a lot of questions, all of which you welcomed and answered freely. You decided to omit the whole truth from him when it came to your previous meetings in his previous lives. How were you supposed to admit to the man you love that you had killed him not once, but twice centuries ago? He knew your paths had crossed before and in a few instances the two of you had become close in a sense, but you mostly told him how and where you met unless he asked for specific details. When he learned that the two of you had had sex before in the 1920s his only response was, ‘I was better this time.’ Mostly he would ask which version of him you liked better.
As you continued to look out at the sea you thought of Sarenya and your sisters. You wondered who would’ve taken your place as Nympha Legatus and where they would be this time around. Ciree would make a great siren leader if she could focus on- 
“You’re doing it again.” Your thoughts faded away as Jake spoke beside you, squeezing your hand gently. Instantly you knew what he was referring to, you gazed down at your feet that we’re almost touching the water now. Every time the two of you walked along the beach you would absentmindedly walk towards the water until the salty liquid lapped at your toes or Jake made you aware. Usually he would say nothing and just watch in amusement while you led him closer.  
“Sorry.” You laughed under your breath and turned to face him. He was smiling warmly at you, his honey brown eyes sparkling in the orange hue of the sun. 
“Nothing to be sorry about…” You both started walking down the shore again still hand in hand letting comfortable silence take over. Your thoughts continued to wander, thinking about what life would be like for your pod now. 
“Do you miss it? Your old life and your sisters?” 
This was the first time he had asked you if you missed any part of what you used to be. You were sure he never asked because he didn’t want to make you upset. While it didn’t make you upset, you did think about it for a moment before responding. 
“Sometimes... I miss Sarenya mostly. I mean she was my best friend and sister and she probably thinks I’m dead, so it makes me sad to think she’s grieving me and that I probably won’t see her again.” He nodded in response, showing that he could understand what you meant, your arms swaying between your bodies while you walked.
“But I’m happy here. I think this was always supposed to be my destiny… to be human and be with you. Live our lives with one another and grow old together. Even if I could go back somehow I wouldn’t because this feels right. This is right, and I don’t ever want to not be with you. I’d rather have this lifetime and the afterlife with you and remain human than have only fleeting moments together and be a nymph.” 
He was beaming at you now with a smile that could only be described as soft, warm and giddy. The amount of love in his eyes as he looked at you was unmistakable and you were happily drowning in it, letting it lay like a heavy blanket over your entire body. Jake used the hold he had on your hand to swing you forward in front of him and maneuver your body to where he twirled you around a few times before bringing you into his chest tightly and pressed his lips to yours sweetly. He shifted his weight from foot to foot creating a small swaying motion as he held and kissed you.
“May the flames of our souls dance endlessly together, my love.” He repeated the phrase you had spoken to him years and years ago against your lips, smiling the whole way through it against your own smiling lips.
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mumms-the-word · 8 months ago
Note
May prompts: I need borrowed clothing involving either ardynn/halsin or freyr/minthara
I was going to say “bold of you to assume Freyr can fit into Minthara’s clothes” and then I was like “oh wait” not that Halsin can fit in Ardynn’s clothes either but that’s what my brain gave my first lol
Ugh both are so good how am I supposed to CHOOSE? that’s a rhetorical question I know exactly what I’m gonna do
Edit: Also I’ve been informed that this event is meant to be written about other people’s Tavs and Durges but for the purposes of this request I'm just going to respond with a normal little fic!
But because I appreciate YOU I'm including some of your awesome photos of Ardynn in this :>
Story under the cut!! Warning, it is super silly.
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Ardynn and Halsin had finally settled into their new home in the Reclaimed Lands, making a home out of a haphazard cabin that was formerly the ruins of a farmstead. To say that Ardynn loved her new life here was an understatement. She and Halsin had worked together to patch up the walls of the cabin, using a combination of old boards and climbing vines, mortal ingenuity and natural solutions. Thaniel had helped raise the collapsed roof of one room by growing a tree inside the structure, allowing dappled sunlight to stream in through the branches of the tree and the hole in the ceiling. Their home was a living home, built up and bending around a healthy tree and its roots, with flowering vines creeping up the sides and sunlight streaming in through the windows and roof. It was everything she dreamed it could be.
On this day, Ardynn was continuing to work on their home, arranging furniture and organizing their few (but growing) personal possessions. Halsin was out with the children, ambling about as a bear to give them rides on his back and play with them, and she didn't expect him back for some time. She sat cross-legged on the floor, folding away her clothes and his, thinking idly to herself that they would have to obtain warmer clothes for the winter.
After a moment, she picked up Halsin's leather and green fabric shirt, running her thumb over the patterns carved into the leather. He had taken the Emerald Grove emblem from the front a few days ago, so the front looked almost...empty. She wondered if there was something she could replace it with.
As she was examining the shirt, she noticed other markings she'd never noticed before. Pressed into the leather, near the collar, were little magic symbols, runes that were somehow familiar. After a moment of studying them, she realized they made up an enchantment to disappear or morph the shirt during his wildshapes, so that when he turned into a bear, or perhaps something even larger, or even stopped wildshaping halfway through to become a kind of hybrid man, the shirt wouldn't just rip into shreds.
She wondered...
She glanced over her shoulder, as if he might be walking into the door at any moment, and then stood up. She pulled off her own shirt and then hesitated, standing in nothing but her trousers, feeling silly all of a sudden. But the curiosity was greater, and she pulled Halsin's shirt easily over her head.
For a moment, it was comically large on her, the armholes alone big enough to fit several arms of her size instead of one. But then, just as she suspected, the shirt shrank down, fitting itself to her body until it pressed against her breasts and ribs. A perfect fit.
She moved to stand in front of a dingy-looking glass they had recovered from some wreckage a few days ago, turning this way and that. She had to admit, she looked pretty good with Halsin's shirt hugging her body. Add a few leather arm straps and maybe...
In the looking glass, she saw movement near the open front door and whirled just in time to see Halsin ducking into their home. She froze and then he froze, staring at her with eyes wide with surprise.
She didn't know what to say, and she could feel her face getting as red as her hair. This had to be the most embarrassing thing she'd ever done in front of him, bar none. But she couldn't move or unstick her tongue from the roof of her mouth.
He blinked once, twice, and then lifted a hand as if going to gesture to her. "My heart. Is that..."
"I can explain," she blurted out, and that just made things worse because no, she couldn't actually explain. She wasn't just wearing his shirt, she was wearing his shirt that was now shrunk down and shaped as if it was tailor-made to her body.
Halsin closed the door behind him--something they rarely did except when they didn't want to be disturbed--and took a few slow steps forward. He stopped just a foot away, looking down at her. She held her breath as his eyes roved over her form, following the patterns on the leather and fabric as they curved over and around her body.
"It suits you," he said quietly. Huskily. Her eyes widened slightly as she realized that the look in his eyes was no longer confusion or surprise but...hunger. He reached up and skimmed his fingertips along her side, causing her to shiver. "In fact, I think you wear it better than I do."
She swallowed, trying to keep track of her thoughts. "I was just...I saw the enchantment runes and I..."
He didn't seem to hear her. He smoothed his hand down her arm, seemingly distracted by her. "I am tempted to let you keep it. But, I fear, it would become a distraction."
"A distraction?" she breathed.
A faint smile graced his lips and he leaned in, bringing his lips down close to her ear. "I shall be unable to think of anything but you in my clothing, my heart. Even now, it is difficult to focus."
Her heart began to race in her chest. As he pulled away to look down at her, she met him gaze for gaze and found herself torn between wanting to diffuse the situation (it was the middle of the day) and wanting to tempt him further.
Her baser nature won, in the end.
She tilted her head, trailing her fingers along the bottom hem of the shirt. "Should I...take it off?"
She felt a little proud of the way his eyes followed her fingers, only to glance back to up to meet hers, hazel eyes already faintly glowing with a thin ring of gold.
"Yes."
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~*~*~
More pictures to cool everyone off 🥰
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faeriedays · 30 days ago
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“#i loooooove fashion stuff its so cool #especially good omens metas #like i can rant to you about crowley's costume designs all day long”
I’m listening 👀👂
Sorry it took so long for me to reply! I was busy writing this out all day, lol.
It's long so I'm putting a 'Keep Reading' for anyone who wants to back out.
So I'm not very good at explaining things and these have probably already been mentioned but here goes :) I also have images but I messed up their formatting (I do have image descriptions though, even if I'm bad at writing). Warning for probable spelling mistakes and if something doesn't make sense, I literally have spent all day doing this instead of homework and I am so excited that I might have missed something in editing.
Before we dive deep, I’m going to list off the bat the outfits I don’t necessarily talk about or use as examples all that much in this essay thing/rant:
I’m going to put the knight outfit here because I don’t talk about it in great detail here but it’s still amazing and I love it. It definitely plays in with the classic ‘all black, nice shape, cool texture’ package that you’ll read about later. He must’ve been so uncomfortable in this but he looks great, I also wonder if he had long luscious locks underneath that helmet 👀
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I also don’t talk about his Original fit much, but it's still so slay. I like how Crowley is wearing dark gray and not just black in his beginning outfit, because it already shows that he’s not quite on the side of evil but a shade of gray. He never was on the side of evil…think about it, most of his outfits have some sort of color other than black, even if it’s really dark gray...
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I think the Angel fit is important because first of all he’s adorable and secondly it gives us more insight to what his rank could have been based on his sleeves and collar. It also makes me sad because he’s just a little guy !!! Poor thing.
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And though it’s one of my favorite things, I don’t talk much about the 70s fit even though he’s literally so handsome I can’t even. The shirt, the boots, the glasses, the moustache...I want to be him, he’s sososo gorgeous aughhhh,,,,, (I also think his big chunky watch is really funny lol)
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Oh, and I almost forgot his pretty little turtleneck. This outfit doesn’t vary much from his other outfits, and also it’s possibly normal for him to be wearing this garment, considering he wore a turtleneck in 1966. I just think it’s fascinating how he changed his outfit for a fun little date with Aziraphale going around SoHo. That’s really cute of him. 
I also think it’s funny that the only 3 times he wears a turtleneck is 1967, this time, and his angel disguise. They’re his ‘time to be mischievous’ garments, because in 1967 he’s robbing a church, modern day he’s sneaking around SoHo with his angel, and in Heaven, well, he’s infiltrating it and going through secret files.
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And as I was editing this, I forgot his Eff Stuff Up Jacket. He wears this in the deleted scene where he took down the phone networks, and idk I just thought it was cool. The fake ID card is great too. He’s doing it with style, he is.
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Look at that beautiful demon right there. I love how his lapels point down towards hell when he does this, since he’s doing a hellish task. That’s really neat.
Moving on...
First of all let's talk about the color palette. This is kind of obvious so don’t judge me, but I absolutely love the colors that are picked out for him. Mostly black, yes, but also red (which I find fascinating as it is the contrasting color to Hell's green look and also the stereotypical 'devil' color), and sometimes a dark gray or an oxblood. I think it's just really cool because no matter how many different outfits, Crowley, like Aziraphale, has mostly the same colors.
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I think it’s nice (well maybe not nice, nice is a 4 letter word…) how he has a more warm-toned, deep, rich palette while Aziraphale’s colors are more cool toned and light, complementing each other (as always, but you’d assume that the warm, caring angel would have more warm, full tones and the cold, aloof demon would have the opposite). 
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I’d also like to add that since Crowley has his beautiful snake eyes, he’s likely dichromatic, meaning he can see in two colors, blue and green, but also that he could be colorblind to red (this is probably why Aziraphale dresses in blues, but it also makes me wonder about Crowley and his outfits; does he think he’s dressing in grays or a less saturated red?) Anyway, more images because he's pretty and I like colors :)
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 His selective color palette means that a lot of what makes his outfits, well, his, is something else. This would be mainly texture. Whether it's scaly (like his snakeskin…‘boots’) or ruffly (see 1827 for a major example of this, just look at these freakin patterns omgomgomg) or an almost stripy texture (like the 1941 suit and Bildad’s fire fit), Crowley's outfits benefit because of those extra touches. They make his outfits stand out, especially with a ‘limited’ color palette.
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In addition, he is often dressed in the kind of clothing that accentuates his height and build. He wears waistcoats that almost bring a cinched waist effect (and accentuate that pretty little waist of his!!! god i wanna see him in a corset so bad), and sometimes he wears vertical patterns/textures to make him seem even taller, which is especially fitting for a lean demon.
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His shoulders are accentuated with either a puffy sleeve (see 1827 or 1601) or a squared off look (see modern day and various suits from time). It definitely gives a nice touch and affects his overall shape and appearance.
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I also just wanted to mention in this section before I move on that I love how his lapels point up like little demon horns. I think that's cool 😈.
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Okay this part is one of my favorite parts. Crowley LOOOOOVES to adorn himself. B U T T O N S (this mfer is addicted to buttons), serpent pieces, bows; you name it, it’s probably going to end up in his outfit. He is so fancy and with time brings even more ways to add glitter and glam to his clothing. And he isn’t careless with his accessories either; his extras line up with his outfit and instead of distracting from the rest of his garments, brings it all to a more composed, complex look while making it still look complete and not ‘busy’.
It’s also good to notice that he usually wears jewelry/metal that is either silver or black. Gold isn’t his color and he knows it; this is especially important because that’s a ‘heaven’ color (white, gold, light gray) while silver is more of a hellish color (silver, green, black).
The bows and neckwear:
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The buttons !!!:
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The snake pieces, the snake pieces! Whether it’s a texture, a silver piece, whatever it may be, there’s always something snake related in his outfit.
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Another thing I find fascinating is the fact that modern Crowley wears a lot of clothes that appear in the ‘women’ section and things that would not be considered stereotypically masculine, but rather androgynous. He dresses like a snazzy little lesbian and I adore it. (Looking at those super skinny, too tight jeans,,,)
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Girl you ATE.
I am now going to go on a tangent about the fact that Crowley is not afraid to dress in a way that would worry and/or agitate people. He plays with expression and probably loves when people give him weird stares. Whether he dresses in a surprisingly feminine way (see Mesopotamia, see the Crucifixion, see Ashtoreth), whether he dresses like a mourner (see Rome and kind of 1827 a little bit), whether his outfits go against the status quo (literally pick your poison), he is always doing it in style.
Images:
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It's interesting for her/him/whatever Crowley wants forever to dress more feminine at the earlier two times, because it would be more customary for her to be accompanied by a man, meaning she's giving off the vibes that she's related to Aziraphale by blood or marriage. I think that's cute tbh. I also love Ashtoreth, she is SERVING, I love her hair, I love her vibe, I love how she was inspired by Mary Poppins. She reminds me of Mrs. Andrews from the Mary Poppins musical.
More images:
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I didn’t know where to put this but I wanted to mention that Crowley in 1827 is dressed masculine but more flamboyant than Aziraphale at this time, and corrects pronouns/honorifics when Mr. Dalrymple tried to say ‘Mr.’ Nonbinary ICON right there I love them.
Okay now let me give a more fascinating and detailed example of Crowley being a weird little guy, Rome.
Oh, Rome. Crowley is basically dressed like either a dead guy or a tourist tbh and I think that’s hilarious.
The laurel wreaths are usually either for emperors/high class (which was probably what Crowley was going for after tempting one) or they’re in funeral portraits. The wreath represents your achievements in life and Definitely is not street wear.
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His hair is definitely not in style with the military chic kind of vibes that were going on at the time like Aziraphale’s–no no no, his curls are more fit to be a lady’s hairstyle (if he’d grown his hair out ofc). 
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The dark clothes definitely give a mourning kind of palette, but that’s relatively normal with Crowley. What isn’t is his weird shawl thing with the red zig zag that is definitely foreign and most certainly draped the wrong way.
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He’s wearing a pin and ring brooch??? That’s definitely not from Rome. That’s more of a British Isles thing–this kind of pin and ring brooch is not from Rome. But it’s very weird because unlike the Romans, who loved snake jewelry as it represented rebirth and healing, the British Isles did not do snake jewelry. So where’d he get this commissioned?
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Bro is so unfashionable, and he’s homeless, gay, has aids, and is new in town /ref new in town. His dark glasses are probably the only thing that’s relatively normal here, as it makes sense that his glasses could exist in this time period, whether they be from Rome or any number of other places.
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✨Snazzy ✨
Which brings me to my final topic: his sunglasses. I love how they change to reflect himself throughout history. Of course he follows the latest trends in fashion and such, but I also appreciate his little spin on them.
Here are some of my favorite pairs:
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So yeah, in summary I love Crowley’s overall design and how it suits him over the course of 6000 (or let’s be real, millions of) years.
What's your favorite outfit (and also can I have a freaking wahoo after this, I'm so out of breath metaphorically)?
PS: I bet you’re wondering, ‘well what about the angelic disguise???’ Well fret not, for I loveloveloveee the heaven disguise. It just didn’t make sense to group it with the things I was talking about earlier, so here goes:
He’s still in grey, which is nice, but it’s really light grey. He also is wearing a turtleneck, which I find funny. Perhaps this is because most of the angels don’t wear a stereotypical dress shirt, so it helps with blending in. His jacket, however, is specifically not heaven-like. It’s far too casual, and even zips up, which leads me to believe that this is supposed to be satire on how professional the angels are supposed to be. He does have the color-coding right, though; he has a white shirt under a darker color jacket.
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His thick ass tie is hilarious. It’s bright, it’s flashy, it's glittery, and it would seem very suspicious and attention-grabbing to me if I were an angel. I also find it fascinating that he does this, as gold is shown to be not as fashionable in season 2 (I’ll be using Uriel as an example in a moment). I think he does this so that he can show how tacky angels are and how not up-to-date he is with them. 
Crowley’s tie:
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Uriel (a very fashionable angel indeed) keeping up with the trends:
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You can see in the set of images how the angelic fashion changed from copious amounts of gold to no gold at all. 
Finally, I want to talk about his other accessories. 
The headband is really silly, and it gives him a little bit of poof in his bangs, which ever so slightly mirrors him when he was an actual angel. The black with light swirls definitely gives off a tacky vibe. 
His glasses have lighter colored metal frames, which I find interesting too. 
And he didn’t dye his tattoo gold for this btw. He put a freaking STICKER of his tattoo over his actual tattoo. That is HYSTERICAL to me I can’t even.
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Overall, the fit almost gives off a Y2K vibe to it. I think that’s interesting too because maybe that’s the last time before the Apocawhoops that he saw the Angels’ clothing? I dunno, and that would also be interesting because he usually tries to dress as modern as possible, maybe he's being a couple decades out of date for the funnies. Anyway, it’s working and it is hella funny. And I love Muriel’s expressions during this scene, they are not convinced.
So, in summary, our snakey boi decided to dress in the tackiest, most satirical way for his angelic disguise. He does not look like a bee in this beehive, he looks like a poorly-dressed wasp, hehe. I wonder how Aziraphale would've reacted if he saw Crowley's disguise...
(also, I didn’t mean for this to end up as a ‘Do you love the color of the sky Crowley’ kind of post, I just find fashion, especially historical, really fascinating and I definitely didn’t get all my words in but I think it’s more than enough for now)
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1941-crowley-slut · 1 year ago
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Listen I typically headcanon Crow and Azi as asexual...
...but.
I have recently started considering the other possibility as well. Because they might be angel and demon, but it is not a new concept for them that they do human things. Especially after they have already gotten to that breaking point where (reason aside) they express their love through a physicality (the kiss). Imagine what would come next, how hungry they would be for each other after getting the first taste... (que flashback of Aziraphale trying the ox, thank you)
So I've been thinking about their first time. I think that it would be something unprompted, unexpected, although Aziraphale is definitely the kind of person to plan such things. He would have loved to plan it all, make a big romantic scene with wine and music and rose petals and dim lighting. And I bet Crowley's falling-in-love-under-an-awning-in-the-rain ass would like that too, even if he pretended otherwise.
But they wouldn't do that. They wouldn't really think it through at all beforehand. I think they'd just get taken away in a loving, intimate moment between them on the couch of Azi's bookshop. Crowley would have locked the doors with a snap of his fingers and performed a little miracle to make it so they would be invisible from the outside. Not so much for himself, but for Azi.
And he'd be oh so gentle with his angel. Even though he'd be filled with so much need and passion due to the longing he's had to endure for this angel, Crowley wouldn't fail to make the other feel loved. He'd take it slow, intertwine their fingers, kiss Aziraphale sweetly and occasionally ask him if he was feeling alright, feeling good. He'd be careful, because Aziraphale would be so very fragile in his hands at that moment.
And when they were done... After Aziraphale managed to get past these new shocking feelings, the high he was currently experiencing, guilt would set in. He'd sit up, turn away from Crowley in a panic and hurriedly attempt to dress himself in his shirt and fix his hair. The same panic we saw him experience after the kiss in season 2. He'd be refusing to allow Crowley to look at his face, make eye contact, all while mumbling things like "Oh, what did I do?" "This is so wrong..." "We shouldn't have. We really shouldn't have.", as well as numerous things about being tempted.
Crowley would watch for a moment. Just for enough time, until he knew Aziraphale would feel okay being touched again. He knows his angel so well, he knows all his green and red lights and how long it takes to get to them. And he wouldn't be upset. He wouldn't feel betrayed or offended over Aziraphale thinking they made a mistake. Because Crowley knows these thoughts are not his own, but the ones he has been fed from the beginning of their creation. He knows Aziraphale suffers with religious trauma and guilt, even though the angel himself prefers to be oblivious to it.
Soon enough, Crowley would approach. He'd snake his arms around Aziraphale's waist with gentle motions that wouldn't startle the angel. He'd hold the other from behind quietly and press light kisses to his nape as a reassurance. As his way of saying "You didn't do anything wrong, angel. You're still good. And I love you."
With another snap of his fingers, he'd get them all cleaned up, and maybe also dressed, if Aziraphale needed it. If he felt more comfortable that way. And then he'd make sure they were in bed, watching cheesy romcoms that Azi likes. And Crowley would do his very best not to complain about the clichés, or he'd only make silly little remarks that he knew would make Aziraphale smile, even just momentarily.
[ Note: The intro has been edited ]
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