#there are ~reasons~ she wishes she could go back | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ienjoywritingfilth · 2 days ago

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a sinner i am part vi

wanna see my other stuff?

part : in deep water

“What a beautiful madness, to explore the darkness in one’s own soul and find joy in the unearthing of such wicked thoughts.”― Wiss Auguste.

"Let's go snorkelling," Shawn suggests the next morning over breakfast. "There's this place about an hour away that looks amazing."

"I think that sounds fantastic," Tess agrees with a smile. "I need to work on my tan."

Joel just nods, taking a sip of coffee. You feel a bit of panic at the thought of being stuck with them all day.

"We didn't bring snorkel stuff."

"We can rent our gear there babe," Shawn says with a kiss to the top of your head.

You and Joel just nod and stand, neither of you making eye contact with one another. After he went down on you last night you ran to join Shawn and Tess at the fire dance. You made up some excuse about not being able to find your wristband that they bought.

When you came back to the room Tess disappeared into the bedroom and Shawn was amorous. You were still wet from his father but you let him cage you under him in bed, moaning in an effort to make him cum faster. It worked, but you were feeling so guilty. As Shawn went to dispose of the condom you flipped into your tummy, sighing into your pillow.

Now you sit in the back of the Jeep as Joel drives and Tess holds his knee loosely. It appears they've made up from whatever was causing the tension before. You wish that you didn't feel so jealous at the sight of it.

The bikini you've chosen is skimpy, barely covering your tits and ass. And while you wish you could say you wore it for your boyfriend, the fact is you wore it for his father. You want Joel hard and aching for you because you want more of him.

Just for this week, you reason. Everything will go back to normal after this vacation.

Joel focuses on the road ahead as Shawn and Tess chat animatedly. He darts his eyes to the rear-view mirror to see you gazing out at the passing water and he feels his stomach clench.

When Tess got back last night he thought for sure she would see it in his eyes. That he'd tasted your sweet cunt that he'd made your eyes roll back as you moaned daddy. But she was reconciliatory, even sweet.

"I'm sorry I've been so angry. I think I'm just getting insecure about seeing so little of you. I'm worried we're growing apart."

His guilt brought her into his arms, her body curling around his. He intended a sweet snuggle as a reaffirmation that he cared about her because he really does. She fell asleep with his arms around her.

And then Joel heard the soft moans coming from Shawn's room and he could feel his cock swelling. Your sweet sexy voice moaning brokenly as his son fucked you. Joel tried to ignore it, squeezing his eyes tightly but then he heard the rhythmic squeak of the mattress and all he could think about was the sweet nectar of your cunt.

Squeak. Daddy Squeak Please Daddy

He stole to the joined bathroom, his footfalls silent. The light was out and he could see the light peeking out from under the door. He stood there, ear to the door and listened to the sounds you made.

They were weak, uninspired and Joel wanted to gloat about how good he made you feel with just his tongue. He made you arch off the bed, pussy wet and needy.

But now as the four of you journey to snorkel after grabbing gear from the beach hut Joel is tense. Joel sets up the towels and chairs unable to look away from behind his sunglasses. You're so fucking hot, your breasts the perfect size for his hands.

"I'm gonna tan for a bit first," Tess says before stretching out on her chair. You and Shawn slip off your clothing

Joel nearly grins seeing the bikini you packed. It's flimsy and tight and your breasts spill out if it enticingly. It's tied in sweet little bows at the hips.

"I like the suit," Shawn says to you suggestively as you smirk.

"Got it especially for the trip."

He grabs your hand and the two of you rush into the waves with your snorkel gear.

Joel continues to set up before collapsing onto the chair next to Tess. "You wanna join em?"

"You go on," Tess tells Joel with another yawn. "I'm too relaxed."

Joel is about to wave off this suggestion when your shrieking laughter sounds out from the waves. Shawn has you over his shoulder, tickling you as you attempt to swim away. Joel’s thick fingers curl around the arms of his beach chair.

Stop touching her.

A wave of possession for his son’s girlfriend t propels Joel off of his sun chair and into the water after you two.

You watch Joel enter the water from the corner of your eyes. Your pussy clenching as you watch his muscled form glide through the water towards you. He's tanned and broad and you see the droplets bead off of his firm body.

You and Shawn swim together, splashing and having fun. Eventually Joel swims over, smiling handsomely at you.

"Thought I'd join," Joel says coming near you. You make sure not to look at him. Shawn smiles at his father before pointing.

"I found a good spot over there where everyone says the fish hang out."

Everyone pops on their snorkel gear, following Shawn. Joel swims closely behind you, watching your ass ripple with every kick. He's getting hard as he swims, trying to distract himself with the colorful fish but all he can seem to fixate on is your body in that bikini. How the bottoms leave so much of your ass exposed and how he can see the outline of your cunt when you dive. Shawn points to something ahead, glancing back at you and giving you a thumbs up that you return. Despite the tension with Joel joining you both you're blown away by the beauty of Hawaii.

The fish swim by you, their fins skimming along your body as they pass in colorful schools. You twist in the water, amused to see Joel nearby. He's floating, gazing at the small school of fish that come to dance around his face. He looks so sexy like that, focused and unaware he's being watched. Your eyes can't help but go between his legs, seeing the heavy erection there. You feel like you can't breathe but it's not from snorkelling. You swim to the surface before popping out like a cork, tugging the snorkel out of your mouth before coughing profusely.

Shawn breaks the surface, looking concerned as he pulls the mouthpiece out.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," you say still sputtering. “Just inhaled some water."

Now Joel is bobbing nearby, watching you from the corner of his eyes.

"I'm gonna go a little further out," Shawn tells you and Joel. "You wanna come?"

"Nah this is as far as I wanna go but you have fun I'll meet you back at the chairs," you say breathlessly as you bob in the water.

"What about you, old man?"

"I'm good too, son," Joel smiles.

"Wimps! I'll see you at the shore." Shawn laughs and waves at you both before readjusting his snorkel gear and heading further out. There are a few couples swimming out there so you don't feel too unsafe.

"Pretty out here," Joel mutters from beside you. You glance over to see he's pushed his goggles over his head, brushing back his curls to show off his handsome face.

"Yeah it's beautiful," you exhale staring at him. His eyes move from the horizon over to you and your gazes lock.

"S'not the only thing, darlin."

You know your face is red and it's not from the sun. Joel grins to himself at your shy reaction. You're not swimming away screaming so he pushes his luck.

"Been trying not to stare at you in that bikini all day," he says as his eyes drop to your chest in the water. A thrill goes through you and you force yourself not to smile. "You really wear it for Shawn?"

You shake your head lightly. "I wore it for you."

Joel groans softly, aware that his cock is hard and throbbing in the water.

"Wanted me looking at your sweet fucking body, baby girl? Wanted me hard out here in public? Wanted me desperate knowing I wanna touch you and can't?"

Your eyes shutter but you nod because yes that is exactly what you've been aching for. Joel's eyes slowly scan around the waves noting that Shawn is way out and that Tess is still sleeping in her chair. The other swimmers aren't close to you. The two of you continue to swim but Joel reaches out to place his wide hand at the small of your back. Your eyes fly open in fear as you pull back.

"Joel they'll see."

"Just looks like we're talking," Joel says soothingly. His eyes don't leave yours. "You just gotta keep your face neutral."

Before you can challenge him on that you feel his other hand coming to slip between your legs. You feel him move your bottoms to the side, knuckle dragging along your slit. Your eyes widen at the pleasurable sensation and Joel chuckles richly.

"More neutral than that, darlin'."

You smile embarrassedly at him, eyelashes fluttering when his fingers breach your cunt, sliding up into your core and curling.

"Fuck," you groan, forcing your eyes to remain open. Joel grins down at you, his legs kicking slowly to keep you both afloat. He thrusts his thick digitts into you, his thumb circling your twitching clit.

He watches the way you start to shatter around him amazed at how quickly he can make you cum. He's never had a woman cum so hard just by being fucked by his fingers.

You're trying to appear calm, your eyes darting to Tess to make sure she's still asleep before going to Joel's sharp gaze.

"Doing so good baby girl," he says coaxing you as his fingers go deeper, hitting that spongy spot that makes you whimper. Your hands go to his hips underwater, legs circling his waist loosely holding yourself in place.

Your eyes are half open, mouth hung open and Joel can't help but nudge his cock against your thigh, desperate for friction through his swim trunks. He hears the soft gasp you make and then the sensation of his fingers being squeezed. You're so close.

"That's my girl," Joel whispers over the lapping waves. "Gonna come on these fingers?"

"Yeah," you nod, trying not to moan too loudly.

Joel continues, holding you to him as he fucks you with his fingers. His forearm flexes and he hopes this still looks innocent.

"Yeah what?" He needs to hear it.

"Yes... Daddy," you groan, unable to keep your eyes open anymore.

"Daddy's making you feel so good isn't he? Out here in front of everyone? Even though it's so bad?"

Joel knows exactly what to say to make your pussy throb. You nod and you rut your hips against his fingers because you want more, you need his cock in you. The sound of a shrieking child from the shore startles you both into breaking apart, your orgasm forgotten.

"Let's keep goin," Joel tells you with a half curl of his mouth when your heartbeats slow.

"Joel I can't, Shawn is... Shawn is my boyfriend and I don't know what I'm doing," you say swimming back from him.

Joel feels an ugly heat in his guts at the way you turn on a dime. One second your cunt is milking his fingers and now you're looking at him like he's the asshole?

"You know exactly what you're doin," Joel frowns, "otherwise you wouldn't be out here flaunting those tits for everyone on the beach to gawk at."

Joel has never said anything this unkind to you in all the time you've known him. It makes you pull back angrily. "Fuck you, Joel." You glare at him before making your way to the shore, heart beating furiously in your chest as you slide through the water.

Joel watches you leave feeling regret as he watches your tanned form collapse into one of the chairs next to Tess.

You feel furious at Joel watching him paddle around in the water. He's probably trying to stop his erection before exiting. Shawn appears on the shore, smiling at you and dropping his snorkeling gear next to you on the sand. He shakes his wet hair over you, laughing as you whine through a giggle for him to stop. Tess wakes up, stretching and sighing gently. From behind your sunglasses you look at her lithe body, the plump of her breasts and the way she's slick with suntan oil. It's no wonder you hear she and Joel fucking all the time.

"I love being lazy on vacation," she says with a laugh when Shawn teases her for being a beach bum. The two of them start to talk about the water and the fish Shawn saw.

Meanwhile you read for a bit, ignoring when Joel comes in along the shore looking like a Greek god, broad and slick from the water. His shorts cling to his hips and ass and even flaccid his cock is huge. You remember it in your mouth. He catches sight of you reading and takes the seat next to Tess.

"You're all wet, Texas," she says with a gentle elbow when he kisses her collar. "Get outta here."

Joel chuckles, speaking with her about dinner as you force yourself to go back to reading about Euripides. You glance up when a shadow is cast over the pages.

"Gotta return the gear," Joel says nudging your calf with his toe. "Wanna help?"

You are about to refuse when you see regret showing plainly on his tanned face. He wants to talk and you're surprised that you want to listen.

"I'll help ya, dad," Shawn says about to get up from where he lays on his towel on the sand. You jump up, quick to follow Joel.

"I'm happy to do it babe," you say kissing the end of Shawn's nose. "I wanna stretch my legs anyway."

You and Joel gather the rented gear and start moving between the bodies on the warm sand. Joel feels a nagging sense of unease when he realizes you won't even look at him.

"I'm sorry for what I said before. That was horrible of me. And not the truth at all," Joel tells you on your walk to the hut. "I was just embarrassed I guess."

Joel Miller is the kind of man who runs a successful business, the kind of man who never says he's sorry. But with you it comes easy after seeing the hurt in your eyes.

"I get it," you tell him. "It's a weird place we're in. I mean, everything we want is so wrong but..."

".... It feels real right when we're doin it," Joel finishes for you.

"Yes. Exactly."

The two of you reach the rentals hut handing the stoned teenager the snorkel gear and then heading back on the warm sand back towards Shawn and Tess.

"I'm open to suggestions on what to do," Joel says. "Because at the rate we're going were gonna get caught and screw up our lives."

"Maybe we just need to fuck it out of our systems," you say surprising yourself. Joel stops midstride to stare at you.

"What?"

"I dunno maybe it's because we haven't fucked properly," you insist, eyes wide and doe-like. "So it's just hanging over our heads making us act insane."

You've thought about this a lot the last couple of days, trying to reason out why you both keep doing this. Joel can't tell if you're serious, but when you don't smile or giggle he knows your are.

"I can't have sex with you," Joel says shaking his head. Then as if realizing what he's saying in the crowded beach be takes you by the wrist and drags you to the large rock face, hidden from view. He drops your wrist when the two of you are in a quiet, isolated area.

"What we've done already is bad enough," he whispers urgently. "Fucking you with my cock would be so far over the line."

"But fucking my mouth wasn't? Finger fucking me in the water just now?"

"A'course it was," Joel replies heatedly. "And I’m sorry I have a hard time controlling myself around you. But full sex? That's just, there's no coming back from that. I couldn’t forgive myself for that."

"Or maybe it's the only thing that's going to stop all this tension."

You can't help but squirm, your pussy fluttering at the thought of being impaled on Joel's thick cock.

"I can't do that," Joel says shaking his head. "I'm sorry but I won't."

Something about his denial sets off a fire in you. This big man who orders his staff around, who acts boldly is insecure for once. He's doubting himself. You step closer to him as he casts a wide eye around to ensure you're still alone. Your hand goes to his pecks, brushing over the muscles.

"You don't wanna fuck me, Joel? Don't want to feel how tight my cunt would be around your big dick?"

Joel's pupils grow wide as you speak and he tries to deny you. "No."

"Thought you wanted me," You ask, fingers sliding between your legs. He watches as you tease the edge of your bikini bottoms.

"You're skating on some mighty thin ice," Joel says through a groan as you take his hands in yours.

"I think you want me," you tease. He feels powerless when you take his hands and gentle urge them under your bikini top. "I think you want me to cream all over your big cock, Joel."

Joel squeezes your warm breasts groaning at how perfect they feel. You grin up at him, stepping closer. Your mouth comes to graze along his neck. You huff hot air along his neck as you speak and he shudders.

"You don't wanna watch my tits bounce while you bury yourself in me?"

Your nipples are hardening under his fingers and it takes everything in him not to tweak them. Instead he squeezes your breasts again watching as you hum in pleasure. Joel thinks he might die if he can't stuff himself in your wet heat. He can't remember the last time he wanted anything this badly. But you're his son’s girlfriend and you're so sweet and naive in many ways. And he has a girlfriend. And this is so fucking wrong.

"I can't, baby girl."

You can feel him rock hard against your thigh and you begin to grind your crotch against his erection.

"But I wanna feel you," you whine, giving a breathy moan against his earlobe. "Just the tip."

You reach into his swim trunks, finding him pulsing and hot to the touch. He doesn't try to stop you, just keeps kneading your breasts under your swimsuit.

"I could cum from just the tip," you promise as you begin to stroke him. "I know I could. Then you're not crossing any line."

Joel offers a strangled groan before his hands pull from your bikini top to fall to the stone behind you, boxing you there with your hand down his shorts. You start to jerk faster, watching as his mouth hangs open. The slick slapping sound of jerking him off makes you pant. You can feel his resolve weakening as he begins to thrust into your slick palm. Your mouth moves to his earlobe. You nibble it there before speaking.

"You make me so wet."

Joel's eyes roll back as your hands wrap tighter around his cock, tugging harshly as you beg him. You're gonna make him cum right here.

You're disappointed when he pulls your hand from his shorts but this gives way to interest when he grips you by the wrist again and drags you to one of the caves. It's empty, shielded from most of the view. It's a volcanic tube that's been marked off as closed by ropes and signs. It doesn't stop Joel from stepping over the rope and dragging you with him. If you peek you can see the back of Tess and Shawn's heads. The two of them are talking about something you can't hear as Shawn shows her something on his phone. The cave is warm and quiet, dark but with enough light for him to see your body. You're breathing raggedly, your pulse ticking in your neck as he watches you with hooded eyes.

"This is a bad idea," he tells you. But his cock is tenting his shorts and he doesn't look like he's going to stop advancing towards you.

Your spine presses up against the stone wall of the cave, your eyes wide as he steps closer.

"There's no going back from this," Joel says, but he's already pushing up your bikini top, exposing your breasts. They fall heavily from the flimsy fabric and his mouth descends, sucking at one nipples as you grip his neck, arching.

"Joel! Fuuuuck that's good!"

Your body tightens with every suck and your hand slaps over your own mouth. You're terrified the sound might carry outside the cave.

Joel takes his time with each of your breasts, squeezing them and groaning before nipping until the nipples are throbbing. They're tight points that pucker beautifully for him. He would spend a whole day on your tits alone but time is of the essence and he needs to feel more of you. He pulls back to see your hair tousled and your mouth red from where you bit your lips to keep from screaming. Your breasts are out and your hips cant towards him. You look absolutely fucked out and Joel needs more. Your bikini bottoms are thrust to the side with his finger.

"Just the tip," he pants as he lines himself up with your slot. He presses forth slowly, eyes on where he enters you. You watch as well, your body tingling. He stretches you with the wide head and you look on in amazement at the sight of your pussy straining to take him.

He notches himself shallowly within you before his eyes dart to your face. You look pained but its pleasure that makes your hips start to roll. He holds himself at the base, feeding only the bulbous head into you in such slow measure.

“Just the tip," he pants as he lines himself up with your slot. He presses forth slowly, eyes on where he enters you. You watch as well, your body tingling. He stretches you with the wide head and you look on in amazement at the sight of your pussy straining to take him.

"You said you could come from just the tip," Joel reminds you. It's taking all he has not to thrust forward. He takes the base of his cock and drags it along your clit, tapping the head before slowly entering you again.

Maddingly slow he holds himself at the base, feeding only the bulbous head into you. You clench down around him instantly, pussy greedy for him. .

"More," your beg, hands clutching at his shoulders. "More, please."

Joel feels as you try to force his cock deeper, but he holds himself back, his fingers digging into your hips.

"We said," Joel grunts, circling the head shallowly, "just the tip."

Despite your whines and your canting hips Joel keeps his cock shallowly within you, blowing out frustrated air when you keep going. It's clear he isn't going to budge unless you do something drastic.

Joel watches your hands reach behind, inhaling when your bikini top loosens and then falls to the ground before your moving to the ties at the hips of your bikini. The fabric slithers down your body, leaving you bare to him. Joel sucks in his breath as he takes all of you in, cock hanging heavy and slick between his legs. He watches how your naked body responds to your own touch, stomach twitching, breasts jiggling as you lean against the wall and part your legs.

"I need more," you say sweetly, fingers coming to slide between your thighs as you keep his eye contact.

Joel stands there with his cock wet and hard between his legs. You watch it twitch under your gaze and fell your mouth water.

"More of what?" Joel baits you. "Use your words."

You shoot him a coquettish smirk as you walk towards him, arms coming to wrap around his neck. You tug his face towards yours.

"I want your cock Joel," you whisper against his mouth.”All of it."

Joel knows that he’s powerless now. You aren't his son's girlfriend; you're a woman he desperately needs to bury himself in. Your voice turns plaintive.

"Please daddy. I need your cum."

Joel's body is on fire at those broken whines. And he knows this is the ultimate crossing of lines but he can't fight it anymore. He pulls one of your thighs around his hip, opening you more to him. He feeds you more of his cock, intending to go slowly until you start moaning at the sensation of him rubbing against your walls. The sound unlocks something primal in him and he thrusts into you brutally to the hilt. You fight to catch your breath, eyes wide.

"You're so big," you gasp.

"Yeah, I am," Joel says with an arrogant grin. "Biggest you've ever had."

He doesn't know that for sure but judging by your reaction he's right. And he knows his cock is big, he's had enough women in his bed to know. But your reaction has him preening.

"Gonna ruin this tight little pussy," Joel tells you as he withdraws and then thrusts in one fluid motion to the hilt once more. "Gonna make her cry."

He feels even better than you could have imagined. Better than Shawn, better than anyone. You don't know if it's his cock or because this is taboo all you know is you've never been this wet before. You lick at his neck, tasting the salt of the water and his sweat. His cologne invades your nostrils. His fingers come to your clit, lightly grazing as he fucks you. Your thighs begin to tremble.

"Yeah you like that," Joel groans as he watches your eyes fall shut. You're so close to cumming.

You don't say anything you just throw your head back and hold in a gasp.

Joel growls before sliding his palms down behind your thighs, hauling you into his arms and continuing to fuck you through it. You whimper as you interlace your fingers behind his neck. His arm muscles bulge as he holds you aloft with ease. Joel watches how you ride out the pleasure with the guidance of his hips, your eyes on where the two of you are joined. He beams up at you and you swoon at how the skin around his eyes crinkle.

"You like it? Seeing how daddy stretches you?"

"Uh huh."

Joel watches himself saw between your legs, your body rolling as he fucks harder and harder into you, pinning you against the wall possessively.

Over the wet slap of his hips against yours you hear Tess and Shawn laughing nearby. The realization that you could easily be caught makes you moan into your arm, desperate to stay quiet.

"You're not fucking Shawn anymore," Joel tells you in a grunt as he thrusts into you, the ball of your foot digging into his tight bare ass

"What?" You gasp confused by the statement.

"You heard me," Joel grunts again, his breath hot and possessive against your cheek. "He's not fuckin' you again."

"He'll get suspicious," you insist, clutching Joel's shoulders.

"Make something up," Joel says rolling his hips, tilting up and making you whimper. "I'm the only one fucking this sweet cunt from now on. Only cock you're gonna suck you hear me?"

You don't know if he means for this trip or in the future and that floods your pussy. It clenches tightly around his cock. Your fingernails dig into his shoulder as your tits bounce for him. Joel is mesmerized at how your tight body looks swallowing his cock and a wave of possession overtakes him.

"This is my cunt to fuck," Joel growls into your neck, thrusting aggressively on every word. "Repeat it."

"This is your cunt to fuck," you whisper, body rippling as he thrusts himself into you over and over, his face red, his breathing tight.

Your body is sluggish in its movements, the bliss having worked its way into your muscles. Joel wishes he could finish inside of you, dying to watch his cum drip out of your used pussy. But it's too dangerous and he doesn't have a condom.

"Gonna let anyone else cum in this cunt baby girl?"

"Nuh uh," you whisper against his mouth. "Only you."

"That's right," Joel growls as his hips snap up, filling you over and over. "Only me. Only daddy. Say it again."

"This is daddy's cunt," you slur, starting to sag against his chest. “only daddy gets to cum in it.”

Joel bites your shoulder to keep from groaning loudly when you start to whisper only for you, my pussy is yours daddy. You tighten everywhere and Joel watches with glazed awe at you cum on his cock, your hips rutting and your face flushing as he covers your mouth to stop the loud cry of pleasure from escaping. He watches your body jerk as your arousal drips down his cock. Your eyes are rolled back only the whites showing and your hands clutch his shoulder for leverage. You bounce against him, chasing your high.

"That's right baby girl, you soak Daddy's cock like a good girl does," Joel groans against your ear, pounding you against the cave wall.

You quake in his arms before blinking and your eyes roll forward to gaze at him. Joel feels himself about to release and so he lowers you and withdraws before furiously stroking himself as he stares at you. You stand fully naked, your inner thighs glossy with your own release and your gaze faraway. Joel palms your left tit with his free hand. He doesn't let his mind fixate on your age or the fact that his son is in love with you.

"This body is all for me," Joel says more to himself than anything. "Perfect fucking tits. Tight fuckin pussy. Fuck baby girl, get on your knees and open."

You fall to your knees, mouth going around his cock to suck groan around his thick length. His hand comes to the back of your skull, forcing your mouth to strain around him deeper. You gag but he doesn't stop, if anything his cock twitches.

It's nothing like it is with Shawn who is all tenderness and kisses when you're in bed. With Joel is like being used by someone who needs you so badly it burns.

He grips your hair, thrusting and chanting your name, coming undone at the sight of your cheeks bulging with him, your eyes wide and un-blinking up at him. You whine gently.

"It's coming baby girl," he gasps out, forcing your mouth to the base of his cock with a growl. "I just wanna take my time."

"Joel?"

The sound of Tess voice reaches you both inside the cave she sounds like she's walking along the beach in search of him. She and Shawn are likely wondering where you both are. In terror you immediately go to pull off of Joel's cock but to your shock he holds you in place.

"I didn't say we were done," Joel says licking his dry lips, his movements not slowing at all.

"Bhut Teshhh," you garble out around his cock anxiously. He's got you pinned between the wall and his hips and he isn't moving anytime soon.

"I don't fucking care," Joel tells you without ceasing the cant of his hips. "She could walk in right now. I'm not stopping until I cum down this pretty throat."

Your eyelashes flutter. Why does that make your pussy flood?

"Take it," Joel urges you in a rasp, "fucking take it all like Daddy's good girl does. Swallow me down."

You do, swallowing the salty release without pause, moaning around his cock as your do. Joel continues holding your hair in his fist until he's finished before he releases you.

The two of you pant, looking at one another. Joel helps you to a stand before going to his knees and helping you tie the knots of your swimsuit at your hips. He kisses your bare belly as you pull on your bikini top and adjust it over your nipples.

"Okay, we got that out of our system so now we should be able to go back to normal," you reason as you push back your hair matted from the sea water and Joel's hands.

"Sure," Joel says. But you don't miss the smirk on his face as he says it.

what do uou think they should do next? should they get caught or continue it at home please leave me comments or i dont wanna keep going ;p i skipped work to write this one so plsssssss write some good long comments for me okayyy i luv uuuuuuuuuuuuuu

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hadersversion · 7 hours ago

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‘tis the damn season.

“so we could call it even, you could call me babe for the weekend.”

pairing: rafe cameron x pogue! reader

warnings: 18+, SMUT, p in v, fingering, begging, overstimulation, use of babe....let me know if i forget anything lol. ALSO in some places in america, thansgiving eve is literally just a holiday to get drunk in your hometown

your home for the holidays for the first time in years. you've been avoiding rafe, the reason you've been away for so long, but after seeing him again all the old feelings come back. when rafe sends a text one night, you end up in the back of his truck like old times.

i parked my car out front of my childhood home, staring at the old exterior.

somethings never change.

being back in the outer banks felt strange. it has been a while since i have been back, avoiding come home for as long as i can. but with a few begging phone calls from my mom and kiara, here i am.

i knock on my front door and am greeted with a bright smile.

"jj?" i ask, confused.

"welcome home, stranger." he says, with a hug and grabbing my bag.

i walk into my living room and see the pogues, sitting with my mom. a homemade 'welcome home' banner hanging above their heads.

my mom comes over and gives me a big hug. "i thought i would never see this face again." she says with a squeeze.

"boston isn't that far, mom." i tell her but i know she would never leave the outer banks. never in a million years. i turn towards the others and smile. "i wonder who could've put this together?" i say, looking at kiara.

"hey it wasn't all me, pope was the one who brought it up." she says, engulfing me in her arms.

"guilty." pope chimes in, joining the hug. i feel jj and john b join in as well. my family.

we break away and hang out in the living room, catching up.

"don't tell me you went all city on us, y/n." john b pokes fun at me.

"not completely. but it is nice having more things to do than hang on the beach and smoke." i wink.

"who could want more than that?" jj asks, making us all laugh.

"speaking of," kiara starts. "there's a little thanksgiving eve celebration happening at the wreck. just some people from high school. nothing big."

"just a chance to get drunk of our asses and go to dinner the next day hungover." jj says, causing kiara to nudge him.

"what do you say? want to join us?" i look around the room at my friends, all eager waiting for my response. with a sigh, i nod and they all cheer. "thank god, i don't think i could've done that alone."

i smile and nod. it should be fun, it will be. but my brain can't help to wonder if the one person who's kept me away from coming home will be there. no, he wouldn't. not with the pogues. but a part of me can't help but hope to see his face.

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i fix my sweater in the mirror in my room, my body fidgeting from anxiety. it's been a few days and i still can't shake that feeling from my body about being home. sure, i'm happy but this place holds so many memories. memories i wish to bury. i stare at the photo booth picture tucked into my mirror of him and i. i guess i forgot to hide this with the rest of the stuff. i take it off the mirror and sigh, examining it.

almost four years since it was taken. almost four years since we called it quits. and yet, he still haunts my memories. his presence making itself known through cheap beer at the bar, expensive men's cologne at the mall, exhaust that leaves motorbikes as they ride down the street. he's always there, whether i like it or not.

the sound of a horn breaks me free of my thoughts.

"y/n, they're here!" my mom calls from downstairs.

"coming!" i open my dresser drawer and slip the photo in before racing downstairs. i kiss my mom on the cheek and slip out the door, rushing into the van.

"ready to get fucked up?" jj asks with his devilish smirk.

i roll my eyes and laugh. "let's go."

we pull up to the wreck, it's already dark outside and a slight breeze fills the air. we all hurry in, greeted by familiar faces. my name is called from every direction, old friends from high school or the beach. all my fellow pogues who i know and love. when i'm done making my rounds, i head over to our table. everyone has some drink in their hand, beer or cocktail, and they all smile up at me.

"who would've though little y/n y/l/n would be a pogue celebrity?" pope jokes.

i flip him off and slide in next to john b. kiara hands me a beer and i take a sip. "i'm not a celebrity, i'm just one of the only people from this island who actually made it off."

they all make jokes at my despair, teasing me in any way they could when sarah walks up. i feel my stomach flip and i smile at her. "y/n!" she embraces me. "i'm so happy to see you!"

i hug her back and smile. "me too, sar. how's everything been?"

"the usual but i can't complain." she sits next to me and lays her head on my shoulder. "it's been forever."

"it has." i sigh. "it really has."

we all share stories and laugh around the table. we take shots, chug beer, and play different drinking games. just like old times sake.

"i need another beer." i say with a slight slur in my voice, standing up. "anyone else?" everyone shakes their head as i excuse myself.

i walk up to the bar and wait my turn, twirling my debit card in my hand. it could be the alcohol but i feel content and happy to be home.

"y/n?"

until that moment.

i don't want to turn around, i don't even want to accept my fate in this situation.

i know that voice, i could recognize it in a crowd of millions of people. it was the voice that lingered in my dreams, my thoughts.

i turn around and look at the man.

"rafe."

he looks older, his hair buzzed and some facial hair covering his face. but those eyes. they are the same eyes of the boy i loved.

we stood there, not saying a word. just taking the sight of one another in.

"i didn't know you were home." he says, not breaking eye contact.

i nod, biting my lip. "i am, i got home monday."

he chuckles to himself and shakes his head. "how long you here for?"

"till saturday. then i'm going back to boston." my throat feels scratchy and my face is on fire. i want to be anywhere but here now.

his eyes continue to study me. "two more budweiser's, please." he says to the bartender. i open my mouth to protest but he shakes his head. "on me, think of it as a welcome home gift."

the bartender hands me the beer and i smile. i turn back to rafe and tip the bottle to him. "thanks."

"no problem." he clinks his bottle to mine. we both take a long sip. my eyes are desperately trying to find a place to land, ending up on the bright sign above the bar. but rafe's are still on me.

"you okay?" kiara asks as she walks behind rafe. she is my gurdian angel.

"yeah, just waiting for my beer. excuse me." i squeeze past rafe and walk back to my table. i look back at him and smiles. i hate him.

a few drinks more and my ears are ringing. it was loud and everyone was far too drunk. i excuse myself for air outside. there are a few people lingering, smoking cigarettes or waiting for ubers. i smile and take in the nostalgia.

"you know, it would've been nice to know you were home." i hear rafe's voice next to me.

i roll my eyes and look up at him. "oh, would it have been? sorry, i didn't think you'd care." i say coldly. that liquid courage is taking control.

he looks down at me. "and why would i have not cared?"

"hmm, let me think." i put my finger to my chin. "oh, right. 'don't ever contact me again. we're so over. i wish i never met you. blah. blah. blah.' do you want me to go on?" i say to him.

i watch as he processes what i said to him, the words of our last fight. he looks guilty, for once in his life. "that was years ago, y/n. w-we were just kids."

"oh, really? then why haven't i heard from you for the past few years? phone works both ways, rafe." i say, shrugging.

he stands there quietly, i got him.

"how's school been?" he asks, nonchalantly.

"are you for real?" i ask.

"what? i'm being nice." he says.

i huff with frustration. "you are such an ass." i push pass him and walk onto the sidewalk.

"where are you going?" he asks, following after me.

"away from you." i say, not looking back.

i hear him run up behind me and he gently grabs my arm. "y/n. y/n, stop."

i turn to look at him. "what do you want from me, huh? you want to torture me even more?"

he stares at me, hand still on my arm. "what? of course not. y/n, i missed you."

"fuck off." i spit out without thinking.

"you're drunk."

"and you're an asshole." i say, flatly. "you...you fucking broke my heart and you expect me to act like everything is fucking dandy?"

"y/n." he tries to plead his case.

"no, rafe. you don't get to waltz in here and act like everything is okay with us. do you know how much you fucked me over? one day you're telling me you love me and you want to move to boston with me and the next, you're dumping me over the phone." i poke his chest. "i did everything you wanted, i kept what we had between us a secret, i took care of you. and nothing was enough for you."

he looks down at his feet in guilt. "i-i know, i'm sorry. i was...i was fucked up back then. with my dad on my case and the drinking...i wasn't okay. i felt like..." he cut himself off.

"what, rafe? you felt like, what?" i ask.

"like i was going to hold you back, alright?" he raises his voice. "you are too good for this place, for me. i didn't want to hold you back. i loved you too much to do that to you." i stare at him and laugh. "what? what's so fucking funny?"

"you, rafe. you." i sigh. "instead of being a man and handling your emotions, you ran and hid. we could've worked that out. but you were too scared." i close my eyes and shake my head. "goodbye, rafe."

i walk down the street, hugging my body as the wind blows. a weight has been lifted off my shoulders but there's still that feeling i get whenever i think of him. that feeling that i miss him.

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thanksgiving flew by, even though i had a hangover that felt like it would last a lifetime.

i helped my mom clean up the kitchen as the pogues did the dishes and took the trash out. just like old times.

once we were done, we sat outside around the bonfire. you would think after yesterday, drinking would come to a halt but jj found a bottle of vodka in the freezer and mixed it with kiara's apple cider. we all enjoyed each other's company but my mind could not help but wander. my last conversation with rafe ringing through my head.

"instead of being a man and handling your emotions, you ran and hid."

i shake my head and take a sip of my spiked cider. as much as it rang true, there was still that part of me that wonders 'what if?'. the more i thought about it, the more i wanted to pick up my phone.

no, i need to be the bigger person. i'm stronger than that. i can't text him first.

then i felt my phone buzz in my lap.

rafe: hey

i stare at the text and bite my lip. i know i should ignore it, let it go unread. but my fingers work against my brain and type 'hi' back to him. i sit there, eagerly waiting for a response.

rafe: can we talk?

rafe: i'm sorry about last night, i'm a fucking idiot.

rafe: there's so many things i could say to you rn

rafe: but i miss you.

rafe: i wanna see you.

i look around at my friends and sigh, they would be so mad at me for this.

y/n: sure, give me like an hour.

y/n: park down the street at the usual spot.

my friends leave my house, mainly due to me faking another wave of hungover puking. i run upstairs and check myself out in the mirror, i look damn good. when i get his text, i sneak out the backdoor and hurry down the street. i see his truck parked under the big tree, the spot he always parked in.

i open the truck door and hop into the passenger seat. i look over at him, he's still in his dressy clothes. a blue polo that hugged his arms right and khakis that made his thighs look exceptionally big. he knew what he was doing and i can't tell if i hate him or love him for it.

we drive in silence for a bit, his radio playing music faintly. his hands grip the steering wheel as his mind looks like he's on another planet. i play with the ends of my sweatshirt, anxiously waiting for him to do something. anything.

he pulls up to the beach, the spot where we would always come to. it was dark and the waves crashed against the shore loudly. he turns the car off and looks over at me.

"thanks for meeting me." he says simply.

"sure."

"i'm sorry about last night. you went out to have fun and i ruined it, i know i did."

i just nod at him.

"and...you were right. about it all." he sighs, running his hands over his face. "i should've manned up, talked to you about how i was feeling. but you know how i get. i get too in my head and just jump to conclusions. it wasn't fair to you." he looks into my eyes. "these past few years without you have been a living hell and i have only myself to blame."

"are you drunk? high?" i ask.

"w-what?"

"are you not sober?" i ask again.

"i'm sorry, what? of course i'm fucking sober." he says. "why would i not be?"

"rafe cameron...taking accountability? i'm sorry, it just seems so...foreign?" i laugh.

"i'm being serious, y/n."

i laugh again. "oh, i'm sure. and...the sky is green. we live on the planet pluto. aliens exist and so do unicorns!"

he pinches the bridge of his nose. "y/n, i'm telling the truth! god, you always joke around."

"yeah, because i know you." i say to him. "and you would rather eat concrete than admit you are wrong."

"eat concrete?" he asks, with a smirk.

"you know what i mean!" i huff with frustration.

he grabs my hand and stares in my eyes. "y/n, i am fully sober. we are not in another universe, it is not opposite day. i was wrong and i am sorry."

my brain malfunctions as i look into his eyes. "y-you mean it?"

"every word i said."

my brain not working means i experienced a lack of better judgment. i grab rafe by his collar and connect our lips for the first time in years. this kiss, the one i have longed for since i left this place, was the missing puzzle piece i've been searching for in my life. everything seemed to make sense again.

his hands cupped my cheeks as his tongue slipped into my mouth. he was hungry for me and i wasn't going to stop him because i felt insatiable as well. his hands roamed from my cheeks down to my neck and onto my shoulders.

i needed more.

i climbed onto his lap and straddled him. my arms connected around his neck as he pressed against me. i felt his cock hard against his khakis and i wanted it. i wanted it all. i rubbed myself against him, causing us both to moan.

he continued to kiss me until he broke away and looked at me. his puffy lips formed a cocky smile as he brushed his nose against mine. "you missed me."

"shut up." i was itching for more.

"admit it, you missed me. you missed the way i made you feel." he states.

"rafe, shut up and kiss me, please."

"ah ah ah." he shook his head. "not until you tell me."

"you're such an ass." i roll my eyes, trying to catch my breathe.

"yet, here you are, rubbing yourself against me in my truck." he says, kissing my cheek. his lips then go to my ear and down my neck. "i want it all with you, right now, babe. but i need to hear it."

"fine! fuck, i missed you. are you happy?" i groan, needing him.

"very. get in the backseat." he demands. i quickly follow his order, hopping in the back over the seats. he gets out of the truck and opens up the back door, sliding in next to me. "come here." he pulls me back onto his lap and we pick up where we left off. i continue to rub myself against him as he sloppily kisses me. "just like old times." he jokes and i hit his shoulder. "c'mon, don't act like you don't think about it."

"oh, i do. but i bet you think about it more than i do." i smirk.

"probably." he laughs. his fingers fall to the hem of my sweater and he plays with it. "now are we only here to kiss or?"

"why? you wanna fuck me in your truck? just like old times." i say, making fun of what he just said.

"i do, i wanna fuck you right here, right now. it's all i've been wanting to do." he kisses my jawline. "do you want me to fuck you?"

this is what i missed the most, our back and forth.

"yes, rafe. i want you to fuck me." i moan out.

with that, he practically rips my sweater off my body and starts to kiss down my chest. his large hands palm my clothed breast. i bite my lip and let my head fall back, missing the way he affected my body. i felt his hand snake around to the back and unclip my bra quickly.

"show off." i say, out of breathe.

i smirks and connects his lips to my nipple, sucking and licking it. his hand massaging my other. "don't pretend you don't like it."

i smirk and shake my head.

he continues to focus on my tits, going back and forth between the two.

"more." i whisper, eyes clenched shut.

"what was that?" he asked in a teasing tone.

"i need more, rafe. please." i beg.

"look at you all needy for me. i knew you missed me." his hand slipped under my jeans and panties, stopping right at my core. i felt his fingers curl inside me, going in and out. "all wet for me, huh? what a good girl." he pushed in, fingering my cunt, when his thumb found my sensitive bud. he added pressure, circling it, and i felt as though i was seeing stars.

"s-shit." i cry out, moving my hips to try and gain some friction.

"feel good, baby? let me hear how could i make you feel." he picked up his pace and a pornographic moan escaped my lips. it's been forever since someone has made me feel this good. rafe knew my body like it was his own, he knew how to get me going. "there we go, like how my fingers feel?"

"u-uh huh." i nod, mouth hanging open.

his fingers worked their magic, rubbing my clit at a pace that'll make me come undone in no time. "love the way you look on top of me, baby. so fucking sexy." he attached his lips to my tits again and continued fingering me.

i felt on fire.

i place one hand on the window and the other on his shoulder, holding on for dear life. the more he whispered about me and the faster his fingers were going, i was cumming on his fingers before i knew it. i rode out my high, screaming his name. once i was done, i felt him pull his fingers out of my pants, my juices getting all over myself. i stared down at him, trying to catch my breathe, as he popped his fingers into his mouth and sucked.

"just as good as i remember." he cleaned his fingers off and kissed me again. my hands ran down his buff chest and stopped at the bottom of his polo, lifting it up. his gold chain laid against his chiseled body, he was perfect. i felt as though i was in a trance as i began to kiss down his chest. i could feel his groans vibrating in his chest and i smirked because i was the one making him feel this way. "i need to fuck you."

"you need to?" i laugh, kissing lower and lower.

"yes, y/n. i need to bury myself inside of you, please." he pleaded.

"i like when you're the one begging." i bite him lightly, causing him to hiss.

"i bet."

i unbuttoned his khakis and sat up so he could slip them off. his grey boxers were discolored from the precum leaking off his cock. he took his underwear off and his cock sprung out. "i-i don't have protection." he said, mentally cursing himself out.

"well, are you clean?" i ask.

"yes. i-i haven't been with anyone since." he openly admitted.

i felt the darkness overtake my eyes as i lower myself down onto him. his breath hitched as he slipped all the way in. he was deep inside of me, causing a few tears to leave my eyes. but the pain subsided as he started to rock my hips with his hands, moving me back and forth. i picked up the rhythm he started with me and placed my hands on his shoulder to steady myself. i felt the truck rocking back and forth as i did so.

his hands found my ass and rested there. "fuck, i missed your pussy. so good, takes me so well." he kissed my chest as i grinded back and forth.

i felt my finger nails dig into his shoulder as his cock hit all the right spots. i looked down at him and he stared at me in awe, like i was some work of art. "fuck, rafe. you're so big."

i bite my lip as i let my head fall back in pleasure. i ride him fast as i keep saying his name. "shit, y/n. you're such a good girl, you're so hot. you feel so tight."

i connect our lips, i feel his hands tighten around my ass. this means he was close. "i want you to cum in me, rafe." his eyes widen as he opens his mouth to ask for permission. "p-please fill me up. i miss it so much." i say, trying to catch my breathe.

with that, he lets out a groan and my name falls from his lips like a prayer. "y/n." i feel him coming inside me, painting me. it doesn't take long for his thumb to find my clit again. with the extra pressure applied to my overstimulated cunt, i feel my head reeling. the air in the truck is hot, making it almost hard for me to breath. it all feels too much, my body releasing onto rafe yet again.

we sit there, panting with our eyes closed. i rest my head on his sweaty chest and he kisses me gently. he rubs my back, tracing circles into it.

"felt even better than i imagine." he says, his voice gruff.

"you thought about it a lot, huh?" i smirk.

"all the fucking time."

i take him out of me and sit next to him in the truck. the windows are foggy and our hands find each other, holding them. i get a sense of weird nostalgia, from how things used to be with us.

"well that was a thanksgiving to remember." i joke, trying not to feel overwhelmed by what happened.

"'tis the damn season." he replies.

i slowly slip my sweater back on and try to find my pants.

"w-wait." rafe says. "is this...is this it? just a single fuck and you're gone."

i look at him, his eyes pleading with me.

"i go back to boston on saturday rafe, we only have like a day and a half."

i wish we could keep this going, i wish this was how things always were. but i had to think realistically. i have to go back home, i have to move on with my new life.

he grabs my hand and squeezes it. "boston is only an 11 hour drive. hour or two by plane."

"rafe." i say.

"i can't lose you again. i can't, y/n. these past few years have sucked without you. i can't wait until you come home for christmas again. now that i've got you again, i can't risk it."

i sigh and kiss his hand. "i know. i know." i close my eyes and shake my head. "we'll make it work. we almost did it before."

"we can do it again." he smiles sweetly. i kiss his lips gently, laying my hand against his chest.

"you'd do an 11 hour car ride for me?"

"y/n, i'd fucking walk if i have to." he smiles.

i roll my eyes and kiss his cheek. "you're so cheesy."

he lays me back against the truck seats and kisses me. "don't act like it doesn't work for you."

#kaila’s fics₊˚ෆ #rafe cameron₊˚ෆ #obx₊˚ෆ #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x pogue!reader #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #obx #drew starkey #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron smut

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pandapetals · 1 day ago

Text

Ruined Surprise & Birthday Trip

Logan tries to buy a gift for your birthday only to have it ruined.

professor logan howlett x professor fem!reader - established relationship (y'all married), cute, fluff, teasing, no y/n used, no reader description, your an english professor, logan is a history professor - imagine days of future past logan with the white streaks in his hair

read on ao3 or find more parts for the series: here

It was rare for Logan to suggest going into town—usually, he grumbled about crowds and small talk, preferring the solitude of the mansion. So when he’d casually suggested a trip downtown, you’d blinked in surprise, half wondering if you’d misheard him.

“You… want to willingly go into town?” you asked, brows raised.

Logan scowled, crossing his arms. “Yeah, sweetheart. Don’t look so surprised,” he muttered, though there was a flicker of amusement in his eyes.

You’d agreed, thrilled at the prospect of visiting the bookstore to check out the new bestsellers. Little did you know, Logan had an ulterior motive. Your birthday was coming up, and Ororo had mentioned a shop downtown that sold dresses. She’d let it slip that the last time you and she had gone shopping, you’d fallen in love with a particular dress—a flowy, deep blue number that you’d admired for a solid ten minutes before putting it back, insisting you didn’t need it since you rarely had a reason to dress up.

Logan remembered the way you’d lit up talking about that dress to Ororo over dinner, and the idea of surprising you with something you truly wanted, well… it stuck with him.

He could already picture your face when you opened the box, how your eyes would go wide and that soft smile he loved so much would spread across your lips. And then, just when you thought the surprise was over, he’d tell you he’d planned a weeklong getaway for the two of you—someplace where you could wear that dress as often as you wanted.

Now, he was standing outside the boutique, hands stuffed in his pockets, feeling more out of place than ever. The storefront was bright and airy, with mannequins dressed in floral prints and pastel colors—decidedly not his territory.

He sucked in a breath and stepped inside, ignoring the immediate urge to turn around and bolt.

The shop was even worse on the inside. Every surface seemed to glitter or shine, racks full of delicate, flowy fabrics that looked like they’d tear just from a hard stare. The walls were painted a cheery pastel pink, and some floral fragrance in the air made him want to sneeze. Logan shifted uncomfortably, glancing around like he was preparing for a sneak attack.

He tried to look casual as he scanned the racks, hunting for the blue dress Ororo had described, but his every move seemed to attract attention. A young, fashionably dressed employee sidled up to him, her expression a mixture of amusement and… something else he didn’t quite like.

“Can I help you, sir?” she asked, her voice lilting with polite curiosity but her eyes betraying a hint of judgment as she took in his rugged clothes, the faded jacket, and usual scowl.

Logan grunted, trying to sound polite, though it didn’t come out quite right. “Just lookin’,” he muttered, shifting his weight and wishing the place had darker lighting or a less floral smell.

The employee’s smile turned tight, and her gaze lingered a bit too long on his worn leather jacket and calloused hands. “Well,” she said, her tone verging on condescending, “we have a few… men’s items by the front if you’re interested. Cologne, wallets, that sort of thing.”

Logan clenched his jaw, resisting the urge to snap back. “Not lookin’ for a wallet,” he replied tersely, eyes narrowing as he scanned the racks once more. “Lookin’ for a dress.”

The employee’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, and her smile became a little forced. “Oh… a dress? For, um… someone special?”

“Yeah,” Logan answered, his tone clipped. He spotted a flash of blue fabric on a nearby rack and immediately headed toward it, leaving the employee standing there, blinking after him.

After a bit of searching, he found it—the dress Ororo had mentioned. Soft, elegant, and exactly the shade that would make your eyes stand out. He could practically see you in it, twirling around with that shy smile, maybe laughing at the idea of him picking it out.

He made his way to the register, the dress draped carefully over his arm, ignoring the way the employee’s gaze followed him with barely hidden skepticism. As he reached the counter, he noticed her pulling out a fancy tissue-paper-lined bag, the kind that screamed, look at this overpriced gift.

Logan cleared his throat. “Don’t bother with the bag,” he said, keeping his tone as neutral as he could manage. “I’ll just… uh, I’ll carry it out.”

The employee raised an eyebrow, looking at him like he was the strangest man alive. “You don’t want it wrapped?” she asked, incredulous. “We offer free gift wrapping, and it would probably… well, keep the dress safe.”

Logan shifted, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “Nah. Just hand it over,” he insisted, pulling his jacket open slightly. “I’ll, uh, just tuck it in here.” He gestured at the inside of his coat, planning to hide it under the leather so you wouldn’t see it if you wandered out of the bookstore early.

The employee’s look of disbelief turned to outright condescension. “Sir, this is a dress. You… don’t just stuff it in a jacket,” she said, her tone making it clear she thought he had absolutely no idea what he was doing.

Logan’s jaw tightened, irritation flashing in his eyes. “Look, just hand it over,” he said, trying not to snap. “I don’t need a bag. I don’t need tissue paper. Just the damn dress.”

She pursed her lips, clearly unimpressed, but after a moment, she complied, handing it over with a sigh as if she couldn’t believe she was letting him walk out of the store like that. Logan stuffed the dress carefully inside his jacket, folding it as neatly as he could without creasing it too much, and then turned to leave, the employee’s skeptical gaze boring into his back.

As he stepped out onto the street, he exhaled a long breath, relieved to be away from the pastel walls and judgmental stares. He glanced down, making sure the dress was safely tucked away, hidden from view.

Moments later, Logan spotted you coming out of the bookstore, a stack of books piled up in your arms and a contented smile lighting up your face. He felt a little flutter of nerves—something he wasn’t used to—and forced himself to keep a straight face. When you caught sight of him, you grinned, hurrying over.

"Find anything interesting?" you asked, raising an eyebrow as you noticed the odd bulge under his jacket.

Logan shrugged, trying to play it cool. "Nah," he said, his tone as casual as he could muster, though he couldn’t quite keep a small, secretive smile from tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Just… picked up a little something. Nothin' important."

Your eyes narrowed playfully. "Is that so?" you replied, clearly suspicious.

Before you could probe further, Logan threw an arm around your shoulder, steering you down the street in the opposite direction. You walked in comfortable silence until you spotted a familiar storefront and came to a sudden halt, eyes lighting up.

"Oh! That boutique!" you exclaimed, pointing to the shop with a glint in your eye. "They had the most amazing dress last time I was here. Let’s go inside—"

"Uh, no!" Logan said quickly, cutting you off with a little too much force, causing you to raise your brows.

"Why not?" you asked, half amused, half curious.

He cleared his throat, searching for an excuse. "I just… it’s not my kinda place, alright? You go on ahead," he added with a smirk, trying to play off his awkwardness.

"Fine," you replied, giving him a skeptical look as you handed over the books. "But you’re holding my books, tough guy. Don’t drop them," you teased, shoving the books into his hands. He let out a reluctant chuckle as he took them, watching you head toward the shop.

As Logan made his way back to his truck to stash the books, you slipped into the boutique, already scanning the racks for the dress you’d admired with Ororo. The shop was just as charming as you remembered, with racks of delicate fabrics and an air of quiet elegance.

You made a beeline for the rack where you’d last seen the dress, quickly scanning for any sign of it before a frown formed on your face. The dress was nowhere to be found.

Puzzled, you approached the counter, where a young employee was restocking a display of scarves. "Excuse me," you began politely, "I was wondering if you still had this blue dress? It was on display a few weeks ago—soft fabric, kind of a deep sapphire color?"

The employee looked up, her expression shifting to one of mild irritation as she sized you up. "Oh, that dress?" she replied, a hint of condescension creeping into her tone. "I’m afraid it’s gone."

You blinked, surprised. "Gone? Already? It’s been here for weeks!"

She gave a dismissive shrug, her lips curling into a slight smirk. "Yeah, some… rugged, gruff guy came in and bought it earlier," she said, her tone implying she found the whole thing bizarre. "Didn’t exactly seem like the type to shop here. Honestly, it was a little strange."

You felt your heart skip a beat, a smile tugging at the corner of your mouth as realization dawned on you. Logan had bought it. You should have known—his awkward insistence on carrying your books, his weird reluctance to enter the shop… it all made sense now. A warmth spread through your chest, but you tried to keep a straight face.

"Well," you said, your voice tinged with humor as you looked back at the employee, "if you thought he was out of place, you should meet my husband."

Before she could respond, the door chimed, and in strolled Logan, glancing around with a slightly bored expression—until his eyes landed on you. He froze, catching the look on your face, and immediately knew you’d figured it out.

The employee’s face went pale as she connected the dots, watching Logan walk over with a wary expression. "Oh… he’s your… husband?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Logan’s eyes flicked to the employee, then back to you, his face breaking into a smirk as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders. "Everythin’ alright, darlin’?" he asked, his voice rough but warm, laced with a protective edge.

The employee swallowed, clearly flustered now. "I, uh, was just… explaining that the dress… it’s been… sold," she stammered, her eyes darting nervously between you and Logan.

Logan raised an eyebrow, his expression unreadable but his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Yeah? I know. Picked it up earlier," he said, glancing at you with a hint of a grin. "Thought it’d make a good birthday present for my wife here."

You felt a surge of affection as he spoke, and you shot the employee a polite but pointed smile. "See? Guess that gruff, rugged guy had pretty good taste after all," you said lightly, squeezing Logan’s arm.

The employee managed a tight smile, clearly embarrassed. "Well… uh, good choice," she mumbled, avoiding your gaze.

Logan gave a small nod, his smirk widening as he looked down at you. "Ready to go, sweetheart?" he asked, his voice softening just enough for you to catch the warmth behind his usual gruffness.

You nodded, barely able to contain your smile as you leaned into him. "More than ready."

As the two of you left the shop, you glanced up at Logan, feeling a rush of warmth. "So," you murmured, once you were a safe distance away, "this was why you wanted to come into town so suddenly?"

Logan shrugged, looking a little sheepish but trying to play it cool. "Might’ve been," he muttered, glancing away. "Figured you deserved somethin’ nice."

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, slipping your arm around his waist as the two of you strolled down the street together. "You know," you teased, giving him a sidelong glance, "for a 'gruff, rugged guy,' you’re pretty damn thoughtful."

Logan huffed, a faint blush creeping up his neck as he pulled you closer, pressing a warm, lingering kiss to your temple. "Yeah, well," he murmured, his voice gruff but soft, "I guess since the surprise is ruined—"

"Nope! Not ruined," you cut him off, shaking your head with a mischievous grin. "In fact, I’m gonna totally forget that you bought me the dress. I’ll just act completely surprised on my birthday." You paused, looking up at him with an exaggerated, innocent expression. "See? What dress? I don’t remember a dress. Are we talking about a dress?"

Logan chuckled, rolling his eyes. "You’re ridiculous," he muttered, but his arm tightened around your shoulders, a warm smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Maybe," you replied, grinning up at him. "But you love it."

He let out a soft sigh, as though he was trying to sound exasperated, but his gaze was soft as he looked down at you. "Guess I do," he admitted, brushing a thumb along your jaw before leaning down to capture your lips in a tender kiss.

When he pulled back, his expression turned mock-serious, though his eyes were still twinkling. "Just remember," he said, tapping your nose gently, "when you open that dress, I expect full-on shock, maybe even a tear or two."

You laughed, nodding solemnly. "Oh, I’ll deliver. You’ll be convinced I had no idea. I’ll even throw in a dramatic gasp for extra points."

Logan smirked, shaking his head. "I don’t know what I got myself into with you," he murmured, but there was nothing but love in his eyes as he said it.

────୨ৎ────

Logan had to give you credit—you’d really leaned into the performance when you opened his gift, letting out a dramatic gasp and grinning as you picked up the dress you’d already knew he’d bought. Your fingers traced over the soft fabric, your face lighting up as if it were the first time you’d seen it.

"Oh my God, Logan!" you exclaimed, holding it up and admiring it. "It’s perfect. Thank you."

He chuckled, clearly amused by your theatrics, but there was warmth in his gaze. "Of course, sweetheart," he murmured, pulling you into his arms. "I’d say it was worth dealin’ with that boutique just to see that smile."

You wrapped your arms around him, snuggling into his chest. "You're the best, you know that?"

"Yeah, yeah," he muttered, though you could hear the affection behind his gruff tone. He pulled back slightly, a smirk playing on his lips. "Now, how about you try it on for me?"

You rolled your eyes, laughing as you swatted his chest. "Later, tough guy. I still have some dignity."

"Do you now?" he teased, raising an eyebrow. Before you could reply, he tilted his head and gave you a look. "Didn’t notice the card, did ya?"

You looked up at him, puzzled. "A card?"

"Check the box," he said, crossing his arms with that knowing grin of his.

Curious, you reached back into the gift box, your fingers brushing over the tissue paper until you felt a small envelope tucked beneath the layers. You pulled it out, glancing up at him with a questioning look as you opened it. Inside was a handwritten note:

"Pack your bags, sweetheart. We’re headin’ out for a week. Just you, me, and a place that I think you’ll love."

You blinked, looking up at him with wide eyes. "Wait… a week? You’re taking me somewhere? Where are we going?"

Logan’s smirk softened into a genuine smile. "It’s a surprise," he said, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. "But let’s just say… it’s a place for bookworms. Figured you’d appreciate it."

The next morning, Logan packed up the truck and you hit the road, driving for hours until you arrived at a quiet, picturesque town nestled by a shimmering lake. The town was like something out of a novel—narrow, cobblestone streets lined with charming bookstores, cozy cafes, and tiny shops selling everything from handmade journals to vintage novels. You felt like you’d stepped into another world.

"Welcome to your personal literary paradise," Logan said, his voice low and warm as he helped you out of the truck.

Your eyes lit up as you took in the view. "Logan, this place is… it’s perfect."

He shrugged, though you could see the pride in his eyes. "Figured you might like it."

After settling into a quaint little inn overlooking the lake, Logan handed you a brochure he’d picked up in town. "Turns out they got all sorts of book-related tours here," he said, sounding only slightly amused. "One’s a walking tour of spots that supposedly inspired some big-shot authors. Figured we could do that if you’re interested."

"I love it," you said, grinning as you flipped through the brochure, the excitement bubbling up in your chest. "I can’t believe you planned all this."

He chuckled, sliding an arm around your shoulders. "Can’t have you thinkin’ I don’t listen when you go on about books, sweetheart."

The next few days were a dream. You spent hours wandering through rows of rare books, getting lost in cozy bookstores, and sipping coffee in quaint little cafes while Logan watched you with that soft, steady gaze of his. In the evenings, you’d return to the inn, where he’d build a fire and sit with you on the balcony, the lake shimmering under the moonlight.

On your last night, Logan took you to a quiet spot by the lake. The stars were out in full force, reflecting off the water, and you couldn’t help but sigh as you looked up at the sky. "This feels like something out of a novel," you murmured, leaning into his side.

Logan chuckled, pulling you closer. "Yeah, well, you’re the one who keeps sayin’ life’s better with a little drama and romance," he teased. "Figured I’d give you the full experience."

You looked up at him with a grin. "If we’re talking romance novels, then you’re definitely the brooding, mysterious hero. The one with the tragic past and the soft heart under all the gruffness."

He scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Oh, is that so?"

"Absolutely." You nodded, feigning a serious expression. "You know, when I first met you I thought, Yep, that’s the hero from Chapter One. Rough around the edges, but with a heart of gold."

Logan raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "You thought that, huh?"

"Yep," you said, leaning in closer, your voice dropping to a whisper. “Over time, you proved it to me even though it took some time for you to warm up to me.”

He let out a soft chuckle, but there was a tenderness in his eyes as he looked down at you. “Good thing I did,” he murmured, brushing his fingers along your cheek. "Or I’d missed out on the best thing ever happening to me.”

Your smile softened, and you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss under the starlit sky. "Thank you, Logan," you whispered against his lips. "For everything."

"Anything for you, darlin’," he replied, his voice barely more than a murmur. "Happy birthday."

#logan howlett #wolverine #x men logan #x men wolverine #logan howlett x you #james logan howlett #logan x reader #fluff #marvel #hugh jackman #logan howlett fluff #professor logan #professor reader #professor howlett #logan wolverine #james howlett #the wolverine

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maruflix · 13 hours ago

Text

YOU ARE SO GORGEOUS (IT MAKES ME SO MAD!)

𝜗𝜚 synopsis: hoshina is unfamiliar with the concept of personal space. unluckily for you, the huge crush you have on your vice captain is the least of your worries when he keeps catching you absolutely losing it. / REQ.

contents: female reader, reader is an officer in the third division, fluff, stoic reader, reader cannot express her feelings, not-so-oblivious hoshina, kissing

word count: 2.0k

When any kind of problem arises, the Third Division knows three things for sure:

Go get Captain Mina Ashiro to solve the problem for you.

If she’s busy with other important stuff, Vice Captain Hoshina Soshiro will do.

Should the Vice Captain be unavailable as well, look for Platoon Leader Y/N instead.

You don’t mind being busy— you’re happy to know that your fellow soldiers look for you in times of need. The thing is, sometimes people look for you to ask you where the Vice Captain is.

... and you hate Hoshina Soshiro.

It might surprise people to know that you’re able to feel emotions as strong as hate. You’re a naturally stoic person after all.

No noise readies you, no words shake you out of yourself, no person makes your emotions fluctuate — but Hoshina Soshiro is the only exception.

When other people would get discouraged to get close to you because of your lack of emotions, Soshiro is always at ease near you, like the two of you have been friends for a long time.

The way he smiles, the way he runs a hand through his hair, the way he stands— he’s so gorgeous it makes you so mad.

Like right now; the sound of blades clashing against each other rings in your ears as you try hard not to gape at the glorious display in front of you.

Kafka, huffing and puffing with sweat all over him as he desperately tries to keep up with his opponent, while Soshiro moves around with grace, delivering blows that seem so elegant and yet is enough to make Kafka stumble around like a puppet.

You watch, unsurprised, when Kafka falls down ungracefully, butt planted on the floor. Soshiro’s mouth starts moving (probably giving him some pointers) but all you can think about is how perfect he looks as a bead of sweat trails down his neck.

“Hey, it’s your turn.” Kikoru elbows you rather hard, making you snap out of your trance. Your face falls in an immediate deadpan as you stand up, passing by a dejected Kafka.

Soshiro smiles at you, seemingly unaffected by his earlier spar. “Oh no, I’m gonna have to open my eyes for this.”

He says it loud enough for everyone to hear and your heart leaps.

The spar lasted longer than the one with Kafka, but it still ended up with you losing. Well, there’s a reason he’s the Vice Captain and you’re the Platoon Leader.

As a competitive person, you should be angry for losing— but how could you, when Soshiro pulls you up and pats you in the back?

“You’re a great fighter. I might hafta to sit down and take a break.”

The poker face you successfully maintained should’ve given you a goddamn Grammy.

Soshiro spots you in the cafetaria and immediately makes a beeline to your table.

“’scuse me, coming through!”

The surprise in your eyes is gone as quickly as it appears. The entire table greets him warmly while you continue to eat. Soshiro smiles, sitting down next to you as Kafka scrambles to get out of his way.

Reno is trying to strike up conversation, but his only focus is on you. You seem so unconcerned about everything. He likes that about you too, but he wishes you’d let down your guard with him. How could he know whether you liked him or not? — not that he’d stop trying to get your attention.

Soshiro eating the rest of his apple while he watches you slurp down the last remains of your soup. Even when you eat, you look absolutely divine.

Just then, a lock of hair falls down your face, hanging dangerously close to your food. He instinctively reaches out to brush it out of your face.

“Whoops, wouldn’t wanna get that in the soup.”

Soshiro is aware of the stares he got from his subordinates, but seeing those beautiful eyes of yours look at him makes it worth it. Shocked, he watches as your eyes flash through different emotions before finally returning to its usual calm state.

“E-excuse me.” You didn’t give him time to speak before standing up and walking away.

“Wait!”

Did he just hear a stutter?

You walk fast, but Soshiro managed to keep a comfortable distance away from you. He lets you put away the tray of food and is about to call your name when you disappear inside the toilet.

He halts, opting to wait for you, resting his back against the wall. Then he hears something weird.

“AARRGGGHH!!!”

Posture immediately straight, his body involuntarily jerks to the sound of the scream, wanting to check out if you’re okay. Because it’s the sound of your scream.

He doesn’t have to, because at that moment the door swings open and you walk out of the toilet.

Red-faced.

He’s still standing in stunned silence when you slap a hand to your mouth and run away.

If Soshiro wasn’t worried before, he’s definitely worried now.

You keep avoiding him throughout the rest of the day. When you cross paths, you would refuse to look at him in the face. You’d only give him a halfhearted salute before fleeing.

The thing that bothers him is how hot and bothered you look. Are you feeling under the weather? Soshiro knows how hardworking you are, so he’s worried that you’re forcing yourself to work even though you’re sick.

“Platoon Leader, come here for a sec.”

You begrudgingly make your way to him, still not looking at him in the eyes. Fidgeting, sweating, and looking very, very bothered.

“Platoon Leader, are you sick?”

“No, sir.”

“Excuse me.” is his only warning before he presses his palm against your forehead.

Surprisingly, your temperature is... normal?

“W-what the-” Flinching, you make a big reaction and jerk away from his hand. Still, your face is calm. “If that’s all, I’ll take my leave.”

Soshiro sighs as you speedwalk away. Temperature aside, he’s 101% sure that you’re sick. After all, why else would your face be so red?

Unless...

You’re dreaming. You’re dreaming. You’re dreaming. Because there is no goddamn way Soshiro just touched your face.

You have no clue where you’re walking. You just wanted to get away from the only person who’s able to make you lose your cool. So you head outside, to the gardens. You pass by Haruichi on the way there.

“Hey, have you seen the Vice Captain around?” He calls out after you, making you want to scream in frustration.

Can people stop making you remember the existence of the drop dead gorgeous Hoshina Soshiro?!

“I don’t know! Maybe China!”

Haruichi looks very confused. You brush past him.

Full of nerves and unsure what to do, you finally sit down on a bench to catch your breath. You can still feel his fingertips on your forehead and see the worried expression in his handsome face.

He’s worried about you. You’re about to bury your head in your hands and squeal when you catch sight of the very same man walking towards you.

Like a cue, the mask is back on. You wanted to pat yourself in the back for how quickly you’re able to gather your composure. You’d rather die than embarrass yourself in front of your crush... although you just did that when you walked out to a surprised Soshiro.

He didn’t hear you scream, did he?

Did he?

You stand up as Soshiro stops next to you. He’s smiling his usual smile, but something is eerie about it. Like he knows a secret.

“Can I test something?”

You blink once. Twice. Then you nod.

“Walk with me.”

You follow him, puzzled.

Suddenly, he loops a hand around your shoulders.

Your heart misses a beat and you nearly stumble, but you catch yourself with sheer willpower. The stoic expression is getting harder to maintain, the smile on your lips itching to blossom.

“What... why?”

There are chills running down your back when you look up at Soshiro. His smile is wider now, like he absolutely knows a secret.

He absolutely knows.

You break free and run for your life.

Soshiro feels kinda guilty now. He didn’t mean to fluster you so much; he just felt so happy and flattered that he actually managed to make you blush.

That’s why he’s making his way to your quarters, hoping to apologize for teasing you too much today. Soshiro has loved you for many months now; he has no problems taking it slow until you’re ready to trust him with all your emotions.

The door is slightly ajar, so he pushes it open quietly, not wanting to alarm you. He’s about to knock on it to signal his presence when he sees the state you’re in.

Facing away from the door, your body is half slumped on the floor and half on the bed. You’re clutching a giant pillow to your face.

“AAARRRRGGGMMMM” Without warning, you scream, the sound drowned out by the pillow you’re burying your head into.

His mouth drops open but it quickly stretches into a smile.

You raise your head, revealing your blushing face, before slamming it down on the pillow again. A string of unintelligible noises follow soon after.

He clears his throat.

You pause mid grumble and the air is still. Slowly raising your head, you turn your head to the door. The two of you lock eyes.

“Vice Captain! Get out!”

Instead of getting out, Soshiro lets himself in and closes the door behind him. He chuckles at your terrified expression, finally seeing an emotion other than complete indifference.

“So you’re really not sick? Just blushin’ around me?”

You gape, looking very offended but unable to counter him.

“Oh, good. I thought my crush was unrequited.”

Your eyes widen.

“Hey, can I kiss ya?”

“Wh-what?!”

“Sorry. You just look so cute right now. Is that a no..?”

Soshiro moves closer, now kneeling down in front of you. A teasing smile is still present on his features. Gently, he strokes his thumb down the right side of your lips. Gauging your reactions.

You didn’t want to give him any, but even a great actress needs her breaks. A shy smile breaks through your cold facade, and Soshiro beams.

“Oh, this is so cute. I must kiss ya now.”

You don’t know where to look, eyes flitting everywhere but him, but you let him lean into you until you can feel his breaths against your skin.

“W-wait,” you gasp meekly. Soshiro’s other hand is around your waist now. “I’ve never kissed anyone before.”

Soshiro shivers in anticipation. “That’s okay,” he whispers and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, “just follow my lead.” And he presses his lips against yours.

It’s so cute how shy you are, so much so that you’re trembling under his touch. He’s pretty sure he heard a whimper when he tightens his hold on your waist. It takes everything in him to control himself when you tilt your head back, parting your lips a bit further for him.

You don’t know how long time has passed because your head is still in the clouds even after he pulls away. It’s embarrassing how a simple kiss leaves you a mess; your breaths ragged and cheeks flushed.

You, who’s usually so stoic, calm and composed, looking like this under him—

“I want to say that I’ll stop teasing you, but I would be lying.” Soshiro grins when you bury your face in his chest.

You’re sulking a bit now. How dare he make you look like a complete idiot. “Whatever. You won’t get another reaction out of me anyway.”

“Is that a challenge?”

After that, he tries to get your attention every time you’re in the same space as each other. He’ll tease you, praise you, sling an arm around your shoulders, hold your things out of reach, all that just to get a rise out of you.

Of course, everyone knows he’s down bad. He acts like a schoolboy trying to get attention from his crush in all the wrong ways. So now even more people ask you about Soshiro; where he is, what he’s doing, like they’re completely convinced you two are an item.

Well, you are.

But with so many people teasing you about your relationship, it’s getting hard to hide behind a calm face. You smile a lot more often, especially when he’s around. Your reputation as the division’s most calm and composed soldier quickly fades into memory. At least you got yourself a hot boyfriend...?

Oh well. You win some, you lose some.

taglist: @bgyuus, @plsmarrymehioriyo, @o-sachi, @vashyuu, @moon-cakiie, @17020, @eeiternity, @ryescapades

#maru writes...#kaiju no. 8 #kn8 #kaiju no. 8 x reader #kn8 x reader #kaiju no. 8 fluff #kn8 fluff #kn8 hoshina #hoshina soshiro #soshiro hoshina #hoshina soshiro x reader #soshiro hoshina x reader

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munsonsmixtapes · 11 hours ago

Note

hii i love your writing soo much your so talented!! could you write eddie and reader fake dating (their both best friends btw) and their doing this because it was eddie’s idea to make chrissy jealous but secretly the reader is in love with eddie and when eddie finally gets with chrissy the reader distance her self from eddie and eddie realizes that chrissy’s not what he expected and at the end eddie and reader gets together it’s a bit long sorryyy thank youuu🫶🫶🫶🫶

cw: hurt/comfort

You won't lie, you've been crushing on Eddie since long before you even became friends. So when he suggests that the two of you fake date, you jump at the chance, because if you can't actually date him at least, you'll know what it's like.

He's doing it to get Chrissy's attention and you can't even be mad at him because Chrissy is sweet and pretty and you unfortunately totally understand the appeal. And the worse part of it all, you think, is that they would actually look so cute together.

You always see them giggling in the hall and you don't even know why Eddie needs you. You wish he would leave you out of it, but you agree because he's your best friend and you're madly in love with him. You'll do anything for him and you're surprised that he doesn't ever use that to advantage. That man has you wrapped around his finger and he's so totally oblivious to it.

The whole thing is pathetic, actually. Because after the whole arrangement is over, Eddie will hopefully have a girlfriend, but what do you get? The satisfactory of a job well done? That doesn't exactly seem fair to you, but you suppose it's what you deserve for being a coward and not telling Eddie how felt when you had a chance.

"Act like you love me. She's coming," Eddie commands, pulling you out of your thoughts. Little does he know that you're not acting.

He grabs hold of your waist and pulls you closer to him, whispering compliments to you as he plays with your hair. And you hate how much you're eating it up because absolutely none of it real. You think he should be an actor because the way he's speaking sounds so genuine that you almost believed him at first.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Chrissy approaching the two of you, her signature bright smile on her face and Eddie's totally going to blow the whole thing because of how obvious he is. The way he looks at her as if she's hung the moon is borderline pathetic.

"Hey guys," she greets and you turn to her, not even having to fake your smile because you actually genuinely like Chrissy. She's nothing but a sweetheart and she's one of the few girls at school that you would consider one of your friends.

"Hey," you smile back.

"I'm having a party tomorrow night and I was wondering if you guys wanted to come," she says and you have to be the one to reply since Eddie seems to be hypnotized by the girl.

"We'll be there," you tell her and her smile brightens.

"Perfect," she nods and then heads down the hallway. As soon as she's out of earshot, you turn to Eddie, smacking him on the shoulder.

"Ow," he winces, turning to glare at you. "What was that for?"

"Could you be any more obvious? I swore I could see you drooling."

"I wasn't drooling," his eyes narrow even more.

"Well you might as well have been. Come over tonight because clearly we have a lot to practice." Eddie rolls his eyes but agrees, especially because he always ends up at your house almost every night anyway.

You pace back and forth in your room, feeling nervous to see Eddie for the first time in your life. You can't believe you actually suggested that you practice. You don't exactly know what you meant but that, but all you cant think about now is roleplaying being a couple and that makes you anxious for some reason.

The door to your room opens and there Eddie is, looking like he walked straight out of your dreams and you honestly can't seem to pull your eyes from him. You hope that he doesn't notice, but also know Eddie's always so caught up in his own head that he doesn't notice little things like that.

"So," he sighs as he sits down on your bed and you hate how you're imagining yourself straddling his laps, kissing him stupid, only stopping so you both can catch your breath before going in for more. You know it won't happen, but a girl can dream.

You sit next to him and even though you've sat this close more times than you can count, your heart is suddenly pounding in your chest and you really hope that Eddie can't hear it.

"What did you want to practice?" He asks and you wonder when his face got so close to yours. You can see every single detail on his face, those damn Bambi eyes and his pretty lashes that he can bat and get you to do anything he asks. His pretty, pink lips that you so desperately want to kiss. His hair that you're itching to run your fingers through.

"Let's roleplay," you reply, thinking on the spot since you didn't actually plan anything out and were just pulling things out of your ass.

"Roleplay?" He asks then a smirk plays on his lips. "Kinky, I like it," he winks and you feel your face flush. He always knows what to say to embarrass you and you hate it.

"Shut up," you shove his shoulder. "You know that's not what I mean."

"Relax, babe. I'm not kink shaming if that's what you're thinking."

"Can you be serious for once in your life?"

"Sorry, sorry," he apologizes as his face softens. "I was just trying to lighten the mood since you seem so tense. What's got you so worked up?"

You, you want to tell him. You're so close to laying it all out on the table and tell him the truth. That thinking about him being with Chrissy is breaking your heart and that you're the one he should be with. But you know you have no right to tell him who he should or shouldn't date, so you stay quiet.

Eddie can see that you're staring at his lips and he just smiles at you, finally catching onto why you invited him over. He's surprised he didn't see it sooner. He kind of feels like an idiot for not catching on as quickly as he should have.

"I see what this is about," he smirks knowingly and he can't help but chuckle when he sees your eyes bug out.

"You do?" You ask with a gulp and he doesn't know why you're so nervous. It's just a kiss and nothing else.

"Of course." He's laughing now and you want the floor to swallow you whole. "You think we should practice kissing."

That's not at all what you had in mind, but there's no way you can tell him he was wrong. And you're also not going to miss an opportunity to kiss him.

"And I agree," he nods, leaning even closer, this closest he's ever been to you that doesn't include cuddling.

He slowly reaches up to cup your cheek, gently rubbing along it with his thumb as his eyes bore into yours. Your heart pounds in your chest as you lean closer to him. your eyes fluttering closed as you do so.

"Tell if I do something you don't like," he says softly and you almost shiver as you feel his breath fan across your lips. All you can do is nod and you feel him keep your head steady as he cradles your head in his hands.

Eddie's lips capture yours and your hands rest on his thighs, scooting closer to him as your brain short circuits. You can't believe that this is happening, and the thing is, you don't even care if it's not real. You're just so caught up in him that it doesn't even matter.

He pulls away before you're ready and you can't help but stare down at his kiss bitten lips, deciding that you could do that for hours and never get bored of how his hands and mouth are so gentle with you.

But you want him to be a little more rough. You want him to stick his tongue into your mouth, to nip at your bottom lip, to give you a hickey that's damn near impossible to cover up with make up.

Eddie wants to stop there before he gets carried away, but he can see how hungry you are for more. You look like you want to devour him and who's he to tell you no?

"I think we should practice a little more," he says and you're nodding enthusiastically.

"I agree," you continue to nod and Eddie smiles as he leans in again, more rough this time and he can't help but notice how your fingers are digging into his skin through his jeans.

His hands move to your neck and his thumbs rest on your jaw, tilting your head back as he licks into your mouth, his tongue tangling with yours and in one swift motion, he moves you so that you're straddling his waist. Your hands are in his hair and if it goes any farther, you'll be at the point of no return.

Eddie's hand move down to your waist and slowly travel up your shirt, but they stop, resting on the small of your back, deciding not to go any higher even though he really wants to. He has to remind himself that it's just kissing and nothing more.

You both pull away when you're out of breath and in that moment, Eddie's not thinking about Chrissy at all. He's thinking about you and how pretty and sweet you are. And how he wants to spend the rest of the night right there, kissing you until the early hours of the morning then cuddling in your bed, fully intending on staying there for the rest of the day watching cartoons and kissing even more because now he's addicted to the feeling of your lips on his.

"I could do that for hours," he tells you, his pupils blown. His hands are out from under your shirt and they're rubbing up and down your back so gently.

He has to know what he's doing to you, right? How he's hurting you because you think you've been so obvious about your feelings for him and now it feels like he's toying with you. But you know Eddie would never do that and it's clear that he has no idea how much you're in love with him because he's oblivious to everything in that department.

He’s looking at you like you look at him and Eddie doesn’t know what he’s feeling but it’s odd. He thinks he’s starting to see you as more than a friend, which was honestly a long time coming. He thinks he’s always been in love with you but was too scared to admit it to himself because one, you’re his best friend, and also because he’s not used to people reciprocating his feelings so he doesn’t think there’s a point in telling you the truth.

He wants to run, but he stays and you let him wear a t-shirt that he’s left there and the two of you go to bed wrapped up in each other’s arms, talking about everything and nothing until you eventually fall asleep, the two of you knowing that your friendship is never going to be the same.

“How do I look?” You ask as you emerge from the bathroom. You’re wearing a black party dress and as soon as Eddie sees you, he swears that he’s died and gone to heaven. But if he’s being honest, he doesn’t even want to go to the party anymore. He just wants to stay there and maybe kiss you some more. Okay, definitely kiss you some more. But you seem so excited so he’s going to go just for you.

“You look-” he cuts himself, trying to come up with what adjective he wants to use. “Fucking amazing,” he decides on as he takes you by the hands, pulling you to him as he presses a kiss to your lips.

“Eddie,” you say as you pull away. “There’s no one around so you don’t have to pretend.”

“Who says I’m pretending?” He smiles, pulling you in for another kiss before he lets go of you so you can finish getting ready. He doesn’t even know if he’s interested in Chrissy anymore, but he’s trying to convince himself that he is because it’s easier that way. If the two of you were to get together and then break up, he doesn’t know what he’d do if he lost you. You’re the most important person in his life and he wants you to stay in it forever.

So the two of you show up to the party hand in hand, making sure to be all flirty around Chrissy. You still don’t know why you’re doing this. Why couldn't he just ask her out instead of talking you into this elaborate scheme? It’s not only unfair to Chrissy, it’s also unfair to you. It doesn’t even seem to be working as she flirts with Jason over by the punch table.

Everything shifts, though, when Chrissy announces that it’s time to play “Spin the Bottle”. Your stomach churns as Eddie pulls you over, forcing you to sit right next to him even if it means that he probably won’t get to kiss you. He wants to keep you by his side the entire night, not wanting to let you out of his sight.

You feel so sick as the game starts and it’s Eddie’s turn to spin the bottle. You almost don’t want to watch, but you can’t draw attention to yourself so you watch the bottle spin round and round. It seems that the universe has a sick sense of humor because it lands on Chrissy. Of fucking course. Eddie crawls over to her and you can see them whispering about something, smiling at each other before they both go in for a kiss.

You don’t stay and watch, physically unable to as you rise to your feet, hurrying to the bathroom because there’s no way you can be there anymore. You tried to be happy for Eddie, you really did. And you hate yourself for feeling so hurt and betrayed because all of it was fake and Eddie still has no idea that you’re in love with him.

So you lock the door and sink to the floor, leaning against the tub as you bring your knees to your chest, crying into them, thankful that the loud music is drowning out your sobs. There’s a knock on the door before whoever is on the other side wiggles the door knob. God, could this night get any worse?

“It’s occupied,” you say through sobs but your ears perk up at the familiar voice.

“Baby, it’s me. Can you open up?” It’s Eddie. Why’s he at the door? You figured he’d be making out with Chrissy somewhere. You ignore him, not wanting him to see you like that and bury your face back into your knees, more sobs raking through you.

“Honey?” He asks, his voice nothing but soft as he knocks on the door lightly. You get on your knees to unlock the door then turn away, not wanting him to see how horrible you probably look. But he gets on his knees in front of you anyway, his smile falling as he sees the mascara tears dried on your cheeks. “Oh, baby,” is all he says, so much sympathy in his voice as he reaches up and wipes away makeup from your face.”What’s with the tears, hm?” He asks, his thumbs rubbing back and forth across your cheeks.

“It’s nothing. It’s…stupid.”

“If you’re upset about it, then it’s not stupid.”

Eddie being so nice to you is making it really hard to be mad at him. You want to, but you can’t. And you know that you have no real right to be mad at him anyway. He has every right to be with Chrissy and you just have to be okay with that.

“Why are you even here? You got Chrissy so why aren’t you with her? That was the whole point of this whole thing, right?”

“It was,” he nods. “But last night made me realize something.”

“Yeah? And what’s that?”

“It made me realize that you’re the only one I want to kiss.”

You freeze as soon as the words leave his mouth. There’s no way you heard that right. Your mind is just playing tricks on you. It has to be.

“But-” you try to argue, but you just end up furrowing your eyebrows in confusion.

“I know it doesn’t make sense,” he chuckles. “But I think I’ve always been in love with you and I was just so scared of losing you that I didn’t want to pursue it. What you saw was Chrissy and I just playing the game.”

“Then what did you say to her before? I saw you whispering.”

“She told me not to screw things up with you. Someone told her about you and I fake dating in order to get her attention and she said that she was flattered. And that was when I realized that I didn’t want her anymore. All I could think about was you. And she’s with Jason now so it’s not like it matters anyway.”

This all feels like a surreal dream, but you can feel Eddie’s hands on your cheeks so there’s no way that it can be. It’s real. It’s what you’ve been wanting for so long and now you have it. All you have to do is tell him you feel the same way and that will be that.

“Because I love you, y/n. I want you and only you. I’m…I’m yours if you’ll have me.”

“You love me?” You ask, your mind still not grasping what’s going on.

“More than you’ll ever know, baby,” he says as he goes in for a kiss, pulling you into his lap as his arms wrap around you so tight as he doesn’t plan on letting you go. You’re his now and you will continue to be until you take your last breaths. And that’s exactly how you want it.

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x fem!reader

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painted-flag · 3 days ago

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OF FLOWERS AND DEATH - aemond targaryen

Chapter 19: The Scars of Betrayal

☾⋆⁺₊✧ dark elf!Aemond Targaryen x f!human!reader series. ✧₊⁺⋆☾ series masterlist. ☾⋆⁺₊✧ word count: 4.8k ✧₊⁺⋆☾ series warnings: 18+ depictions of violence/gore, eventual smut, warfare, sickness/disease, some moments of misogyny, and mentions of alcohol consumption. ☾⋆⁺₊✧ Tensions rise at the war camp, threatening to spill into the human kingdom.

There was a long moment of silence as the information you and Aegon fed Daeron and Helaena sunk in. It was hard to prove without the physical evidence, but you and Aegon were determined to convince them. You started from the very beginning, from your father going on his trip to Lake Rosemagne and then to the moment you had been stabbed. Aegon filled in bits and pieces, moments in the past when Cole had made suspicious and altogether horrible decisions while on the council; especially vicious and cruel ones that heightened during the Great War.

Once finished, Daeron and Helaena were silent. They sat in their spots and glanced back and forth between the two of you as if waiting for one to confess it had all been a lie.

“Ser Cole is a longstanding loyal member of the council and guard.” Daeron’s voice was not coated in argumentative tones; he was simply trying to reason.

“Daeron, what reason would I or Aegon have to lie about this?” You asked him.

Daeron shrugged. “Nothing… but you have to understand I have known him for almost two millennia. He should be given the common decency of innocent until found guilty.”

Aegon became visibly frustrated as his gaze went down to your side. While the wound was covered, it was not an easy sight to forget. His gaze seemed so harden while looking at it, deeply disturbed by the violence shown to his friend.

“If he was so innocent, why was he the first person after Aemond who came into the laboratory? What business would he ever have on this side of the castle?” Aegon forced out as his teeth ground together. The two brothers entered a stare-off. You then glance towards Helaena who looked nearly done with their behaviour. She got out of her seat and left the curtained area. You wish she did not leave, but you understood that this was likely the last thing she wanted to witness.

“Aegon, I’m not saying I don’t believe you. This is just…” Daeron stood up from sitting on the edge of the bed and paced a small section of the room with his arms crossed. You simply sat there, not wanting to interfere in their conversation but also growing irritable. Each second that passed was a further second that could be used to prevent the war from happening. They seemed to forget that you were human and that it was your people about to become targets.

“It’s what, Daeron? It’s pretty damn simple. Cole’s always been a twat but-” Aegon had stepped forward to go toe to toe with his brother, but the curtain shuffled once again and Helaena entered the room. The brothers stopped their movements and turned to her.

“The guards have been called. I am assuming you will need around twenty?” She questioned.

“Twenty?” Daeron responded.

“Well, if you’re going to arrest Cole, I assume he’ll resist.” Helaena shrugged and went back to where she had been sitting. Her hands reached out to the nearby table and picked up her embroidery work to begin stitching again. You were more thankful than ever for Helaena’s willingness to trust and believe you. Since that day you had helped her, she had acted like a sister.

“We can argue about the schematics of everything later, but now we need to get him before things escalate any further,” You reasoned. Your hands gripped the blanket and shoved it off of your form as you moved to sit with your legs hanging off the edge. The movement caused you to grunt in pain, letting out sharp and quick breaths.

“What in the seven hells are you doing?” Aegon spoke as he and Daeron moved to try and push you back into a resting position. Their hands gently pushed on your shoulders but you shrugged them off.

You shook your head, “I’m going with you.”

“Absolutely not!”

“No!”

Both of them spoke at the same time. You sighed deeply. This petty squabbling was beginning to push you over the edge. Nothing mattered but stopping this war by proving to Aemond that his advisor orchestrated it all. Aemond. You were terrified about what would happen to him.

You loved him, simply and truly. It was not something you would have admitted so openly to yourself, but your close encounter with death had you shift your priorities. That state of dreaming you had been in forced you to come to terms with it.

You needed to get to him before things became worse. He survived the last war, but there was no guarantee he would survive this one – especially if his closest advisor was so volatile and corrupt.

“The two of you can keep talking, but I won’t be listening. Now, will one of you help me up?” You snapped. You looked up at them with the intensity a mother would when scolding their children for being too rowdy. They shirked back at your tone and glare.

“If we’re going to do this, we have to do it right,” Daeron spoke, “I’ll organize the retinue of knights, simple guards are not skilled enough for this.” Daeron had finally relented his position but still had an air of skepticism.

Aegon reached out to help you stand, his hold reassuring but cautious, “I’ll join you in that.”

“Are you sure you want to come?” Daeron asked you, “Your wound has only just started to heal and we cannot guarantee your safety should anything happen.”

You broke from Aegon’s hold and walked to him, only near stumbling once. You stared him right in the eyes with determination, “The bastard tried to kill me. There is no way I will sit this out.”

“Good!” Aegon interrupted and squeezed his brother's shoulder, “Haven’t had a good conflict in a few centuries.” Aegon then gripped the fabric of Daeron’s shirt and tugged him free from the room. You looked towards Helaena and the events before you became clear. The risk of this, of arresting a high-ranking member of the court – an incredibly skilled one with a longstanding reputation – was not going to be easy.

Bone-chilling dread had sunk into your body. Your first encounter with Cole’s wrath nearly killed you and this next one was likely to be your last; you could feel it.

It was only after Aegon and Daeron had left that Helaena informed you of the full story when you had been incapacitated. To your knowledge, you had simply been stabbed. However, Helaena spoke about the knife being coated in taint. You had almost become faint at such a revelation, overcome with the feeling that you were going to die. However, you did nearly faint entirely when she said that the cure potion had worked. A few of the brews by some of the healers after you had been stabbed did not work, having gotten the process wrong. The one that Daeron made worked. He was closer than ever to your work and had understood fully the process you had outlined before Cole’s untimely attack.

With only one pot made, it had been expressly used on you as a last resort to keep you from dying. There was not enough to give to others, but Daeron had instructed the other healers on how to brew it. It would be difficult to make in large batches, as the use of dark magic and energy draining took its toll on each elf that brewed it. As soon as the first batch was ready, they were instructed to administer it immediately to the most severe cases.

You felt accomplished at that. All of your work, of your father's work, had succeeded. That was why, as Amara and Liriel got you dressed in elven armour for protection, you had accepted the likely possibility of this being your last day in the land of the living. Cole would not surrender without a fight and seeing you there as a walking testament to him finally being caught would be more than enough to do whatever possible to finish the job.

Pieces of armour were attached to your body as Amara and Liriel silently worked. There was no need to speak, as the severity of the situation deeply settled on the shoulders of everyone. There was a good possibility that this would be unsuccessful. The unsettling feeling of war loomed close. Cole may have gotten what he wanted - a second chance at annihilating your kind.

You were no warrior, but the armour was purely for protection should anything go wrong.

It was difficult to change into the new pieces that adorned you with the pain of your wound. Daeron had been correct about your fragile state. It had been a deep stab, penetrating multiple layers of your skin. Each movement, any strain, would cause scorching pain to spread out from your side. There had been a few times when Amara and Liriel had to stop for a moment. You only allowed yourself some milk of the poppy; any more and your mind would be too fuzzy.

When you were done, you walked out of your room to see Aegon waiting for you.

“Thank you, lovely ladies,” Aegon spoke to Amara and Liriel. His smile was strained. One part was an effort to make the situation feel lighter, the other was likely to reassure himself.

Aegon then looked down the dimly lit hall before he stepped closer, “The castle is only minimally guarded. Go to Helaena’s apartments, it is the most secure. Should anything happen, the stationed guards will protect you both.”

“We’ll be fine,” Amara said, “It's your lives that we’re worried about.”

You moved forward to hug both of the elves. For you, it was a goodbye. You did not wish to tell anyone of your looming fear, for they would surely make a big deal of it. It was best to keep things as chipper as you could with the weight of war upon everyone.

“Stay safe” Liriel whispered in your ear before releasing you from her hold. You sent them both a tight-lipped smile. Aegon began to walk down the hall and you followed closely after.

Silence engulfed you during the walk towards the stables. Nothing but the pattering of your footsteps that echoed against the stone. You could smell the burning wood from the torches that lit up the way and you never thought you would be sad about leaving. This place had become your home. You longed to spend the rest of your days walking these halls, experiencing the parties and healing more elves.

For the first time in your life, it felt right. Yet now, you were marching towards imminent death.

Upon reaching the stables, you found comfort in the twenty guards that sat ready on their horses. Daeron was in front and wore elf armour like Aegon. You had never seen them in such prestigious pieces. For the first time since you came here, they truly looked like royalty. There was a set of steps next to one of the two horses that were positioned in the front by Daeron. Aegon helped you up the steps and to mount your horse. It was difficult and you wanted to pause multiple times due to the pain but chose not to.

Your hands gripped the reins with intensity as your knuckles turned white. You sucked in short breaths, anything longer caused you to be in more pain. When both of you were ready to go, Daeron nodded his head to the elves lined up behind and called his horse to move. From what you were told, Aemond’s camp was only a few hours away from the capital. He wanted to invade at the closest border edge, which happened to be near the village you had lived in.

The dark forest had slowly disappeared as your company got closer to the edge. The trees were younger and scraps of light filtered through the leaves. The air became warmer and beads of sweat had begun to trail down your neck. You dragged the back of your arm across your forehead to wipe away some of the gloss that coated your skin. None of this helped the bitter fever that had taken hold as your body fought away infection from the wound.

A camp came into view that was settled amongst the young trees. Many soldiers stood around both in and out of armour and conversed around the camp. Others were standing guard on their makeshift perimeters. Various tents and sitting spaces were erected to accommodate the rising numbers of elves coming from all corners of the kingdom.

As your group made its way to the buzzing camp, a squad of elves marched forward to block your horses. You could see that both Daeron and Aegon took great offence to this.

“Let us pass,” Daeron did not want to cause tensions to rise and spoke with a gentle tone. There was no reason to confront them with anger over what could very well be a misunderstanding.

“We cannot let you in, my prince.” The guard at the front of the group spoke. He wore the typical silver armour with green and gold embellishments – the elven kingdom colours. It was plated and complex, indicating a higher rank among the other soldiers. Slick, greasy black hair hung from his head in tiny ringlets.

“And why do you refuse the orders from your prince?” Aegon questioned.

“We have orders from the general to not let anyone in,” The elf responded. You flinched just slightly at the mention of Cole. The horse you were on sensed your unease and began to dig its hooves into the ground as it swayed from side to side.

“Well, we outrank the general, so best move to the side,” Aegon dismissed the elf with a wave, but he remained steadfast in his position.

“We may let both of your graces in, but the human cannot pass.” His beady eyes pierced through you and the same intensity of hate you recognized in Coles's eyes was replicated in his.

Daeron scoffed at his words, “Where we go, she goes.”

“Then I am afraid none of you can enter. We have strict orders.” You knew his excuse was thin. Cole had likely feared you living or any of the brothers figuring out what he had done. You were just being used as a piece on the board. If you had not been here, they might have come up with another lie to prevent Daeron and Aegon from reaching Aemond.

“That’s bullshit,” Aegon then turned to the twenty guards behind him and they got the message to be on guard, “You will let us through, now.” At this point, numerous members of the camp stood and watched, unsure of what to do.

“We do not wish to escalate things further. It is best that you concede.” Daeron tried to reason.

Aegon shared a look with you. His head moved almost imperceptively to gesture onwards while mouthing ‘go.’ Your heart began to thump quickly at the implication. The horse you had been on had been growing antsy and was likely ready to sprint off any second. One, two, and three calming breaths came in and out of your body. One hand rested on your wound and knew this was going to hurt. Your other hand tightened on the reins and in a split moment, you spurred the horse on.

It lurched forward and swept past the men. You heard shouts from behind you but were unwilling to glance back. You had no idea where Aemond’s tent may be, but you assumed it would be closer to the centre of camp. Thankfully, that intuition was correct. In little time you had skidded to a halt outside a tent that was significantly larger than the others. Other elves around had turned to look at you as you galloped near but went about their activities likely having recognized you and thought you had come simply because of your status as a healer.

You were grateful that none interfered with you.

Getting off the horse had been a near disaster. Each movement you made was painful and you feared your stitches would rip at any moment. You hunkered over for a moment once finally on the ground and wheezed. Steeling yourself, you moved towards the entrance flap that had been closed. You pushed it to the side and stood at the entrance.

You looked around at the tent, cluttered with weapons, pieces of armour, and a large war table. It held a map of all the known lands and pieces were laid out strategically. You could not find a cot in your scan, instead finding a reasonably comfortable-looking chair with a blanket folded on it. If that was any indication of your beliefs, you would gather that Aemond had not slept or at the very least got little sleep. Even in such a space, you could smell Aemond’s signature scent of parchment, firewood, and spices.

You finally zeroed in on Aemond who stood at the centre of the tent. His back was to you and you could see the armor that adorned his form. It was a contrast to his usual choice of leathers, however it suited him. All of the metal pieces, from the greaves on his calves to the pauldrons on his shoulders were coloured black with gold outlines; real gold that shined in the light that illuminated the tent. He had a long red piece of fabric that acted like a cape, strung from both sides over a single shoulder. The large broadsword he always had was strapped to his waist.

In your not-so-humble opinion, he was a vision of phantasmal beauty; a spectre of frightensome splendor.

Aemond had likely confused you with someone else he had been expecting, too focused on adjusting the armour piece on his shoulder, “All of their lands will be burned as we move forward. For what they’ve done, reduce it all to ash.”

It had come back to you again that he was speaking of your people, your towns, your cities that he wished to destroy. Your relief at seeing him had been knocked down with disappointment. Those flashes of memories you had seen in that trap between the living and dead came forth; you had finally understood his hate towards your kind for all the pain that had been inflicted upon him. You could truly see him now.

“Aemond.” You whispered his name in both disappointment and relief while utterly breathless. No use of ‘your grace’ or any other acknowledgement of his title – only the desperate pleading of a name. His body froze and his shoulders squared up tightly. The red cape that he had been affixing to his shoulder fell to the ground. Aemond’s head turned just slightly before his body did as well.

There was a moment of confusion that swept across his features. He nearly took a step back, but placed his foot forward and approached you slowly. You were overwhelmed by the look in his eye. For once, the blue ocean in his eye calmed and left behind a glittering reflection of a calm sea of adoration. He approached you, unsure and scanning the length of your body as if it were a mirage.

You wanted to speak, truly you did, but his look sucked all the air from your lungs. You had never received such an emotional face from anyone in your life. He was right in front of you then, sweeping his eye across your face. The heat that started in your stomach moved across your body and turned the skin of your cheeks a dark shade of red.

It was hesitant, but Aemond moved his arms around your waist and pulled you into a hug. It was clear, by the awkward positioning, that he was not used to expressing such sentiment. There were likely centuries that had passed between now and the last hug he received. You responded immediately and wrapped your arms around his shoulders. The armour led to a degree of separation, but you did not mind. However, his hold tightened after you reciprocated and pain bloomed from your side.

A wince came forth from your lips and you flinched. Aemond pulled away like he, too, was hurt. Your hands went to your side, where underneath the metal plackart was your wound. You could feel the strain the stitches made on your skin.

“I,” Aemond’s mouth opened and closed a few times, “How are you…”

“Daeron, he’s a damn genius with stitching people back together.” You sucked in a breath as more shoots of pain rippled through your body.

Aemond shook his head, “But the knife had taint on it.”

You nodded at his words, “Yes but my idea worked. The cure… We did it.” Your lips wobbled. You were unsure if you were trying to smile or hold back a sob at the culmination of years of work. He moved his hands to cup your face, thumbs brushing your cheekbones.

“You did it.” His words were light and graceful, washing over you in waves. It was a stark contrast to his attitude when you first arrived. He had treated you with nothing but disregard then – no human could ever come close to the level of intellect and elves possessed. You were glad to prove him wrong.

The reason as to why you came so hastily pushed forth in your mind, “Aemond, it was not humans that did this.”

“What?” His thumbs stopped brushing your cheeks but his hands stayed in place. You swallowed and shook your head. It would be difficult to tell him that his closest friend was a traitor – an elf colluding with sinister means. You placed your hands over his and hoped it would help support him when you exposed his friend's transgressions.

“It was not humans that infiltrated the lab. I’m sorry, but–” The tent opening ruffled with movement. Both you and Aemond turned your heads to watch Cole enter the tent. Dread and fear gripped your body and set itself deep in your heart which had begun to beat rapidly. Aemond’s hands dropped from your face, but you remained right next to him. You wanted to shrink behind him and hide and pray that this could all go away. However, the rage that built up in you at seeing the elf that tried to kill you overcame that fear.

“Ah,” Cole plastered on a fake smile, “It’s good to see you up and about.”

“No thanks to you,” You sneered.

“You seem to be delirious. All of that milk of the poppy must be messing with your mind.” Cole moved to step closer, but you flinched back. Aemond noticed that reaction and held his arm out in front of you.

“Are you alright?” He asked you sincerely. You swiped your tongue across your chapped lips. While your body faced Aemond, you were staring down Cole. There was no way you could look away from him; you would not give him an advantage over you.

“Ask Cole.” You answered.

Aemond looked to his friend with a questioning face, but Cole continued to brush it off, “Do not worry your grace. She is suffering from delusions, I can escort her back to the castle.”

“Coward,” Your teeth gritted together, “Show him the marks on your arms. Show him the spell-casting marks that happen to coincidentally match those on the patients.” You were more thankful than ever that Lyra had brought them to your attention. That morning she showed you the marks felt like a lifetime ago. You were too late to save her, but not too late to kill the one who played a part in her death.

“Or maybe show him the book that Aegon found in your room, the one with all that dark magic.” You finished.

“Your grace, listen to her delusion. It is–”

“Perhaps, most of all, tell him why you are still standing here after murdering my father.” By then you had been reduced in tone. Your lips quivered with unvoiced sobs and tears lined your eyes. You wanted to be brave, to face this with no fear, but your life had been nothing but that and you were exhausted more than ever.

“What in the seven hells is she talking about, Ser Cole?” Aemond asked. His arm had wrapped around your waist when you had become unstable as you stood there. The pain in your wound intensified with your mood.

“Tell him how heinous you are, how tainted your soul is.” The final accusation was laid out in the open. While Aemond may not understand what you said, Cole clued in on your choice of words. His eyes darkened and his jaw locked.

“I will not stand here and take such accusations.” Cole simmered with anger. He scoffed towards you and turned back to leave the tent. Once again, the coward was fleeing. When he left, you followed quickly after. The intensity of the glaring sun nearly knocked you off your feet. When you got out, you were surprised to see Aegon and Daeron already standing outside the tent. The guards that came with you formed a half circle. Cole occupied some free space.

“Ah, good to see you, Cole.” Aegon had his arms crossed and a smug look on his face.

“Let me through,” Cole demanded.

Daeron and Aegon looked at one another before turning back to him. Daeron’s lips were in a tight line, “Absolutely not.”

“What is going on here?” You had not even noticed Aemond’s form behind you until he spoke to his brothers. He was close, with his chest just short of hitting your back.

You turned to Aemond with a solemn look on your face, “It was Cole, the whole time.” His brow twitched at your words but you continued, “The taint, he played a part in it. He murdered my father and he was the one who stabbed me.”

Aemond shook his head, “No,” His voice showed that he was clearly in denial.

“Brother,” Daeron spoke, “We can tell you the truth after Cole is in the dungeons.”

“Where are these accusations coming from?” Aemond questioned, “What validity could they possibly hold?”

You turned to Aemond and rested a hand on the metal covering his chest while you looked him in the eye, “I know this all sounds overwhelming right now, but I promise it will all make sense.”

“Then tell me now,” Aemond told you. His hand went up to cover yours that was placed on his chest. You did not know if he did it consciously, but he made no move to let go. Cole had been watching and his gaze intensified.

You remember growing up, in the stories your father told you, that there were evil people who did evil things, but their motivations behind it were not always bad. He emphasized that a lot; he had always been particular in his ability to see the good in people, no matter who. You had taken those lessons to heart like all the other wisdom imparted to you. Evil was something that often came from desperation, either to protect oneself or others in some twisted reasoning.

Even now, looking at Cole, you could not see what your father would have been able to see. Perhaps, there was no reasoning behind Cole’s motives. You highly doubted that. There was a reason, as deep as the secrets he kept. You hoped to be privy to it. You wanted to know why he had done this but knew there may never be an answer.

Cole had begun to laugh. Not jovial, but strange and wild in temper, “Still now you listen to those things.” You were worried that he would make a miscalculated move and hurt any of the surrounding elves, but he seemed to be caught up in his reverie.

“You betrayed your people… for a fucking peace treaty.” Cole’s words seemed to knock into Aemond and make a profound impact. In all their years together, you doubted Cole had ever spoken to him like that.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Aemond said.

“The war. Those things,” Cole had raised his voice and pointed at you, “killed countless of our people, your people. And you just ended it all with a piece of parchment, like none of them ever mattered.”

Aemond stepped forward to be by your side, “Our people had seen enough violence,”

“That’s where you’re wrong. This time, we’ll take them all out. Starting with this spoiled bitch.” Cole had become nearly raving mad. He reached towards his waist and pulled his long sword out of his scabbard to point directly at you, only a person’s distance away.

You were frozen in fear, staring at the glinting steel that aimed to strike you down.

Chapter 20: An Elf's Rage Preview

Elves were immortal, but still susceptible to death. That you knew all too well in the eyes of your patients. The fleeting of their soul was something you recognized.

That is why it petrified you to see that same look on Aemond.

☾⋆⁺₊✧ If you want to be added to the taglist, click here!

taglist: @izzicle @arriettys-song @ggukiespace @wasntpriscilla @marielahurtado @shamelessblazecrown @peachysunrize @lolliespocketfullofpollies @lanadragon04 @kokosg @sinistersnakey @aemondtargaryenwifey @m-riaa @sarcasticwitch11 @coriellesmarya @simpinonyouz @scrumptiousloser @gcdofchaos @whorrorbellee @saturnssrings @ashjade19 @uniquecutie-puffs @fan_goddess @impossiblepersonastranger @certifiedhaters @crystal_siren @dejiekoo @ladyofthewoods15 @lilostif16 @papichulo-4 @liannafae @f4ntasywh0re @jessyoutofspace04 @ribbetzetoad @rxvenswxxd @iamtoriasworld @blackswxnn @qardasngan @ximetrevino2021 @Disassociationnetwork @winter-soldier-101 @abriltargaryen

#hotd imagine #hotd fanfiction #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen x reader #dark elf #elf #prince aemond targaryen #prince aemond #aemond one eye

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rewiringtoheal · 2 days ago

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This Pain Is Temporary

Anna x Fem!Reader

He's Just Not That Into You AU

Summary: I was watching this movie and had a lot of what if questions. What if the main cast actually all communicated with each other? What if Anna actually had some character development? What if Reader was a variation of a female Conor Barry who got a clue? And how would these differences lead to Anna genuinely falling in love with Reader.

warnings: very slowburn, angst, worse before better, eventual fluff.

You feel used. This person that you love…loved?? You aren’t really sure anymore of your feelings toward Anna. It was never simple with her. And truthfully, you wish you could go back to your blissful ignorance.

You had been so thrilled when she told you she was finally ready to take the next step with you. A real relationship with the girl of your dreams. Having your heartfelt love confession be returned and then making love for hours was more than you ever could have hoped for.

You now knew it was all a lie. And that Anna was a very skilled actor. In your excitement you had raced home the next morning to tell your best buddy Alex and his new girlfriend GiGi the news. After showing them a picture of Anna and you. The night of bliss quickly turned sour; GiGi hesitantly told you that Anna was the same woman that had a very recent affair with her best friend's husband. And everything the past few months had started to make sense. How Anna would constantly ignore your calls but somehow always be available when she needed her emotional needs met. And finding out that the only reason she wanted a relationship with you was because the man of her dreams wouldn’t leave his wife was heartbreaking. How could you be so stupid? And how could you be so blind to the type of person Anna really was.

You felt a hand squeezing your knee bringing you back to the world around you. You see GiGi’s hand retreating and her eyes filled with sorrow. You muster up a strained smile.

“Well, at least I had my dream girl for a moment even if it wasn’t real. Looking back, I kinda see now that she treated me like shit but I was so lost in her. I can’t believe I was so blind to her selfishness. And now this…I don’t think I ever really knew her at all,” you say somberly.

Alex let out a deep sigh, “Dude I don’t really know what to say. She did really shitty things but maybe she's not a shitty person. The moments you had together weren’t all fake. The parts of herself she showed you are probably real. And you can love those parts and still be hurt that she lied about her feelings for you.”

You give a weak chuckle, “You’re right..but I don’t know how to deal with this. I do still love her even if she used me. I see it so clearly now. I’m the back up plan. The person she really wanted hurt her so she chose the safe option.”

Gigi looked at you, her eyes filling with sorrow, “Sometimes people don’t know what they have until it's gone. She is making awful decisions and it’s hurting everyone around her. Deal with this by loving yourself first. I know it's hard but she doesn’t appreciate you. And only wants you when she has no one else.”

That was hard to hear but Gigi was right. You need to take care of yourself. For months you have been putting all of your energy into Anna. Being there for her emotionally, picking up her dry cleaning, giving her rides, and loving her to the best of your ability. All to realize that she never really cared about you, not even as a friend. A friend wouldn’t play with your feelings like this.

You continue to chat with your friends for a little while longer. Eventually you grow too sad and too tired to keep up the conversation. You excuse yourself for the night and head up to your bedroom. Not in the mood to do your night time routine you just chuck off your clothes, put your cellphone on your night stand and cuddle under the covers.

Your mind keeps turning in circles as you lay there. The happiness you had felt earlier today has turned into a deep sadness. And for the first time since Gigi told you about Anna you allow yourself to cry. As silent tears move down the contours of your face you burrow into your pillow; just praying to yourself that you can fall asleep. Anything to stop the pain.

You briefly wonder if Gigi’s friend Janine is in the same state you are right now. You know more than likely she is worse off than you. Janine's entire life is in shambles. Her husband is awful no doubt about it but you just can’t wrap your head around Anna getting involved with a married man. Nothing makes sense anymore but maybe you never had a clue to begin with.

#Scarlett johansson x reader #natasha romanoff #scarlett johansson #natasha romanoff x reader #he's just not that into you

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mythalism · 17 hours ago

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it’s so interesting bc i actually was not one of the people advocating for an inquisitor da4 main character like many others were before we knew anything about veilguard. like i fully wanted and expected a new protagonist because yeah it makes sense to have a new protagonist for a new story in a new place. but then they literally wrote a game where every 5 seconds i went “wow this would be so much more impactful if i was playing as my inquisitor”. “wow sure wish i was playing my inquisitor right now”. “wow this would be the culmination of a 10 year journey for my inquisitor but im playing as some random idiot instead.” like they COULD HAVE written a story where it made sense to be rook and that’s what i expected and anticipated. but the plot of veilguard is not that story.

anyway this is 100% about me being bitter that it’s rook and not my lavellan that got to go meet the fragment and earn mythal’s favor. like my dalish first lavellan who was elevated to near godhood by the armies of the faithful against her will coming face to face with the all-mother the most central goddess of her people and having her be a total fucking bitch to her…. if lavellan was the one to look her in the eye and say that she should have respected solas more…. for her to confront her over the blight and for failing to be the goddess her people needed……. for her to earn her respect and favor after everything she had seen and been through…. the has walked through her temple she has completed her rituals she has met her sentinels and they called her SHEMLEN but if she could just prove herself to MYTHAL!!!!!!!!!!!!!! this isn’t even beginning to touch on how both of their love for solas would come through in this moment. even without that it would be an insane moment for any dalish inquisitor that just does not feel satisfying for the only vaguely elven rook who cannot even be sufficiently dalish. and even for non-elven inquisitors…. MORRIGAN CONFIRMS JUST BEFORE THIS CONVO THAT MYTHAL WAS WITHIN ANDRASTE!? so any inquisitor would get to confront the prophetess they are the herald of. any inquisitor could mention meeting Flemeth and how this Mythal should help them because that other part of her helped them once before. any inquisitor could bring up their shared betrayal by solas. god there is so much they could have done with this FUCK!!!!!!!!

the reason they couldn’t is probably because the moment mythal realized that my dumbass inky had both 1. fucked solas and 2. drank from the well of sorrows she would make her head explode with a thought. actually now im thinking about how insane this would be. imagine she basically casts a successful feeblemind on an inquisitor who drank from the well who challenges her + romanced solas and then u gotta drag her back to the lighthouse and tell solas his super ex situationship feeble-minded his most recent ex gf because she was dumb enough to drink her bath water after he begged her not to. ok brb actually i should write this

#every morning i wake up and i grieve for the possibilities #veilguard spoilers #mine.txt

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etherealeowyn · 1 day ago

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Falling Snow - Elrond (Rings of Power) x Fem Reader

Y/n is beyond excited for the first snowfall of the season, and she takes Elrond to see her favorite secret spot in the forest.

Pure Fluff

Word Count: 949

My requests are always open, so feel free to message me if you have an idea! I'll write for any character from The Lord of the Rings, The Hobbit, or The Rings of Power!

Rolling over onto her side, Y/n glanced out the window, her eyes widening in joy when she noticed small white snowflakes falling from the sky. Upon seeing this, she immediately turned back over and looked at Elrond whose eyes were still shut, sleeping peacefully.

She softly kissed his forehead before whispering, “Elrond, my love, it’s the first snowfall!”

Her voice got slightly louder at the end, unable to mask the growing excitement within her.

Y/n watched Elrond’s eyes flutter open, a small smile almost instantaneously adorning his features.

“Is that so?” he asked, his morning voice breaking through the silence of the bedroom.

“Indeed! We must get up and experience it, it’s practically my favorite day of the year!” she giggled, sitting up and pushing the covers off herself.

Elrond smirked, almost laughing before he too pushed the covers off himself. He sat there observing Y/n as she walked over to the closet and pulled out one of the gowns Elrond had bought her for when the snow began to fall.

“Today’s the perfect day to wear this, I still can’t believe how lucky I am to love an individual such as yourself,” Y/n spoke, walking behind the dressing screen in the corner of the room to change.

“For the thousandth time darling, I’m the lucky one,” Elrond laughed, as he got out of bed to get changed.

Elrond couldn’t see it, but Y/n’s face had become overtaken by a rosy blush and a wide smile, as complete and utter happiness washed over her.

It didn’t take long for the pair to get ready, and before Y/n even knew it, she and Elrond were walking hand in hand, their feet crunching the small layer of snow beneath them. Y/n inhaled deeply, enjoying the scent of the fresh and crisp morning air. Reaching her free hand out, she delicately let snowflakes land on her skin, her keen eyes examining the varying uniqueness of the small particles.

Though Elrond enjoyed the snow, the reason for his enjoyment differed from hers. He enjoyed watching her face light up the second the sky opened and dropped intricate icy specks, and even more so, he was infatuated with how Y/n appeared when the sun reflected off the ice and shone upon her gorgeous skin.

“I wish to show you something,” Y/n said, turning her head and looking up at Elrond with a smirk, “Though I must warn you, it does take a little walking to get there.”

“Darling, I will follow you anywhere, simply lead the way,” he responded, and she eagerly began to walk through the forest, following a path that hardly could be seen after the snow had fallen.

However, it didn’t appear like she needed to see the path, since it seemed she knew the area like the back of her hand. Curiosity was growing within Elrond, wondering where she could be taking him. He figured he knew every one of the secret locations Y/n would go to clear her mind and spend time surrounded by nature, but apparently, he was wrong.

After a while, Y/n stopped, and Elrond stood there taking in the view around him. They had ventured so far into the forest that he was certain that not a single soul was even relatively close to them. He found that appealing, loving the feeling of not worrying about eyes falling upon him.

“Wait, and look,” Y/n spoke, and after the last word fell from her mouth, Elrond's jaw dropped, watching the white snow that covered the trees and ground turn a soft pink color as the morning sun hit them.

Y/n laughed slightly at his expression, proud to have found a place so pleasing to the eyes that even Elrond was in awe. Complete, genuine awe.

“This is stunning,” Elrond replied softly, almost scared to disturb the environment with his voice, “I’ve never seen anything like it before.”

“I hadn’t either, but one day I decided to venture out to find the perfect place to write, and I discovered this spot. Initially, I thought this place could be my secret, but then I realized that I couldn’t possibly keep it all to myself. I realized it could be ours.” Y/n told Elrond, and joy immediately was present in his features.

He was speechless, completely and utterly speechless. He never could predict just how large Y/n’s heart was, for every day she did something that would blow him away. Often, he felt like he was dreaming when he was spending time with her because, with all the darkness that occupied Middle Earth, she was the embodiment of light. Elrond swore to himself that Y/n had made it her mission, whether aware of it or not, to make every day of his better than the last.

Elrond took a couple of steps closer to Y/n, not saying a single word before he raised his hands and gently cradled her face. He leaned in, pressing an all-consuming kiss on her lips, that said more than words ever could. Even as a poet, Elrond knew that sometimes nonverbal actions proved to be the best means to convey how he felt.

Even though it was cold outside, his lips were warm against hers, without breaking contact, his hands moved from her face to her waist, waiting only a moment before he began to move forward until her back was flush against one of the tall pine trees.

“Elrond, you’re making me like this spot even more,” Y/n spoke, running her fingers through the elf’s hair, sending him a sweet smile.

He let out a bit of a chuckle before leaning back in again, thanking her in the most meaningful way he could imagine.

#lord of the rings #the lord of the rings imagine #the lord of the rings the rings of power #the lord of the rings the rings of power imagine #the lord of the rings the rings of power x reader #the lord of the rings x reader #elrond x reader #rings of power fanfiction #elrond peredhel #elrond #elrond imagine #fanfic #fanfiction #imagine

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cryptid-killjoy · 2 days ago

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The longer this went on the more alive Arthur felt. It was thrill. It was arousal. He was boner bulging hard and he was a guy who couldn't always get it up due to meds and medical issues in life. So, this only went to show exactly how horn-dog arousing this was for him. It was fear. He was terrified of being caught where he shouldn't be, but too scared to move either. He didn't want to move. Everything in him wanted to hear more. See more. All while there was an urge to run and he'd lost his damn leg.

Delta got louder as Frank upped the stakes flittering her clit keeping her on the edge. She asked to be taken out of her mind and words started to hold no meaning to her. Only Frank. Frrr. Frrr. Frrr's started to roll off her tongue. Garbled sounds. Arthur hadn't heard a girl react like that in real life, not to him.

The temptation was getting the better of him. He put a shaky hand on the floor to balance as he stretched his neck to see around the corner. Frank had a way of making him feel inadequate in one glance.

It was hard in a moment like that not to think of the time before Frank when he thought he had a chance with Delta, back when he used to try to get her to notice him. It was even harder to not compare the time he'd spent or even time with his own girlfriend. THAT was not how he'd ever gotten her to react. Not even close. Every time Delta teased him about probably not being able to get it up just to be a bitch knowing she wasn't going to put out anyway even though at the time he didn't know that kept going through his head. She got off on him trying for some reason. Then all the time his end-of-life girlfriend told him it was okay and that it happens sometimes went through his head. He knew sometimes it was because he still wished she was Delta. It was just so hard in a moment like this to not recall the time he used to fantasize about being the guy to be able to appease Delta.

He should go. He should go. He should go. He kept telling himself.

Frank could please her. Good fucking God Frank could please her. Then right as he convinced himself to go Delta came. It was so obvious she came. It wasn't like when he had to ask his girl did you come? It was so damn clear Frank just made her cum and cum so hard and long. For a minute he was confused. He was actually thinking can girls cum that long? Is that possible? Dear fuck what is he doing to her under there to make that physically possible? Someone needed to document this for science.

Then as everything quieted down and Delta was left in some murmuring state with a blissful smile against the breeze, spent, and slumping, slowly gyrating her hips back to enjoy a softer motion not wanting it to completely end, Arthur realized he was staring too long.

Fuck.

He couldn't help but be a bit mesmerized by it all from the way Frank handled her to the clear pleasure she was in. It was weird the thoughts that went through a guy's head at this point. It wasn't like he ever thought Delta was giving up Frank. They were meant to be. Arthur knew that and made peace with that a long time ago. But considering he once had thoughts when they were younger to see that now he couldn't help but think that this was an act he could not ever follow. There was just no way he could ever satisfy her.

Then Delta turned around to face Frank. She was covered in her own blood at that point, but what turning around did was push reality in Arthur's face in a way that had him back to the stairwell when he caught sight of Frank's long, fat, still wet, biggest cock he'd ever seen. Reality check. Reality check. Alert! Alarm bells went off in head and he turned away fast.

He couldn't breathe.

Why was he comparing? Wasn't like Delta wanted him anyway.

"Mm Lurchy." She'd sound dazy like she was still in some dream state resting, leaning against him unready for reality herself. She'd flap her wings, and red droplets would spray out into the wind behind them and graffiti splatter more of the wall as she ran her tongue over favorite scars on his stomach.

Frank may have had the beautiful opportunity to be able to tell when she was feeling it so good not only by reading her body but also her mind, and she never quite knew when she was lost in it which his talent lied in the most, nor did she care. What she knew was when he got her going just right, just like that, he was God and the Devil all the same. He was the magic button and knew how to work it. She might have been the acid queen of this city, but he was the spark behind the magic. In her head he ignited all the power and that's the kind of admiration that would be behind her dragon-slitted eyes in the afters. She'd bite at the skin on his pelvis and take a deep breath of him in when she'd finally say, "Damn I love to get fucked. I needed that."

She looked down at herself as she reached for a hand to get some help up. "What's a Halloween party without any blood?" It was her way of saying she had no intention of cleaning up before going back downstairs to their guests.

That's when Arthur started to panic. He was right on the path to them going back to the party and yet he'd come all this way up to see them. He started to squeeze between his legs mentally telling it to go down. Go down. Go down. Go down stupid boner. Think about anything else he kept telling himself.

Then Delta moved to show Frank the back of her shirt. It was all lifted up weird because of her wings which weren't there when she got dressed. "Do me a favor? Rip a couple holes in the back of this so my wings can fit through. Then we'll go back down." She didn't want the back of her shirt all jacked up weird in the back.

Then with her leather wings out her dragony senses were tuning in and could suddenly hear breathing in the stairwell. She'd asked Frank to take her out of her head so maybe he'd turned off her connection to the link to the thoughts to give her what she'd asked for or maybe she was just being fucked so good she really hadn't noticed until right then. Either way when she did finally notice she looked at Frank and then over the entrance of the stair.

She actually made a tactless snort noise. Then in their mind link said, "Someone's still dreaming, huh?"

The cold added to the whole effect. Making the skin tense up, goosebumps, hardened nipples on both of them, making the warmth between them seem even warmer. Especially when he would bend over and breathe on the back of her neck, on the space between her wings where the blood is, warm split tongue licking it up, tasting it, his eyes rolling into the back of his head as if just that alone was enough to get him off. And it almost was.

Although their connection was mainly in their head, thought to thought, he couldn’t help saying some of the things outloud. The groans, the moans, the small compliments. It felt too big just to keep inside. His hands on that ass, pumping in and out of it, feeling her tighten and squeeze.

He just barely heard the sound of the leg falling down the stairs, the wooden thuds as it hit the stone stair case, descending down. Under her skirts, his hands went now, his thumb playing at her clit, wanting to feel Delta lose even more control, get there faster, as he started to feel closer himself. His thrusts grew harder, messier, his groans against her back, blood spreading around his mouth, in the complete throes of ecstasy here, all for those eavesdropping ears to pick up. Loud enough that they didn’t have a damn choice in the matter.

Gepetto had come in with those sage words, speaking like a wise man. It reminded Figaro of Mufasa in the Lion King movie, when he shows up to tell Simba, Remember who you are. Remember who you are, Figaro. And remember where home is. Even as the crazy world keeps on changing, somehow, you still have a home. A big part of that was thanks to Willem, since his relation to Captain Hook had been good enough to win them continued residence in Feral.

When they looked up to Willem now, despite the ol’ sweaty eyes, they were grateful in that moment. That’s what they took from their father’s message. They had that home because Willem fit in with the weird little Funkytown family perfectly.

“Oh, I get a husband tonight, moi?” They asked, wiping their runny nose with the back of their hand, and tried to pretend for a moment that everything was alright. “Definitely not something I thought I’d ever get, but cool, I can work with that, I’m nothing if not adaptable.”

“Well… hubs,” They said, tapping their chin, looking around, trying to think of what to do. “Let’s go do what you were going to do, and the I say we go Tubthumpin’ Chumbawumba style back at Funkytown with the crew. I’ve always wanted to raid Livvy’s uncle’s closet anyway."

#arthurxfrank #deltaxfrank #splitting

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holyadoptionpapersbatman · 2 days ago

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*twirls hair*Sooooooooo, there's this post by @brucewaynehater101 of a Sherlock AU

And, this is a 'Yes, and' site. Rather than go, 'Yes, but imagine', I've decided to make a separate post *giggles*

Bernard Dowd as Irene Adler.

For those who don't know, In the original books by Sir Conan, Irene Adler is a character that could match Sherlock's wit. I'm just going off on memory here, but some King was scared of being blackmailed because he was about to get married and he had a previous relationship with Irene. Irene also had pics of him and her together, and he was scared that this is the blackmail that could be used against him and stop the marriage. So, he calls Sherlock, Sherlock makes up plans and creates traps. And every single time, Irene manages to evade him, and cunningly trap him back. Sherlock never wins.

In the end, Sherlock realizes that the reason why Irene kept the photo was to avoid the King's wrath. She also goes tells him that she's about to be married, and the king really don't need to give a shit of where she's at.

As payment for all the hard work Sherlock had done, he asks the King for a picture of Irene, and the rest is history!! (BBC's Irene Adler is a Badass Dominatrix *swoons*)

SO----

Say Tim (Sherlock in this AU) and Kon (Watson in this au) are both adults in this non-superpowers AU. Kon, finding out that Tim had a horrible history with women as lovers, jokes that maybe Tim should try his hand with guys (you're not subtle Kon).

It's at this moment that Zoanne shows up, Tim's old high school sweetheart. Apparently, she's now married with a kid. However, a few months back, she and her husband were fighting with each other, badly. She ended up flirting with a co-worker of hers: Bernard Dowd.

Tim remembers Bernard. He hasn't seen him since their friend, and his late girlfriend, Darla died.

Apparently, Zoanne and Bernard's 'relationship' turned into something more, but her relationship with her husband had also been on the mend. She confessed to Bernard that she was married, and that she chooses to go back to her husband. That was the last she's seen of him.

Inwardly she was worried that their relationship might get outed to her husband, but she was also worried about where Bernard might be and how the man was because he also hadn't been showing up to work for a whole week.

Tim and Kon get on the case, they figure out what Bernard had been up to. They discover that Bernard got caught up with some pain cult, the Cult of Dionysus, and that's he's been an established member for years. Tim tries his utmost best to convince Bernard to leave.

To Bernard, the way Tim planned to catch him, laid traps for him, and even tried dismantling the cult, was just both funny and adorable. He made plans and traps of his own to thwart Tim.

It all ends the moment Bernard reveals that he's been dismantling the cult on his own from the inside.

Tim asks if he was doing this to take his mind off the heartbreak, and Bernard reveals that, 'no!' He's never had much more than a fling in his romantic pursuits, and Zoanne wasn't any different. The confession just so happened to coincide his plans of taking down the cult, but it also gave him a good reason to disappear and hide under the 'impression' of a heartbreak.

The past week had been the most fun Bernard had in years. He tells Tim to tell Zoanne that she doesn't need to worry about him saying anything, and that he wishes her and her family well.

Tim is amazed by Bernard's cunning, and wondered why he's never seen this when they were both in high school. The two had been close at the hip in school, and the only constant about Bernard that Tim always noticed was that Bernard had always been a flirt with the girls, and had even attempted to flirt with Tim's stepmom.

Bernard gets into Tim's space, like he usually does, and wraps an arm around Tim's shoulders, winking towards Kon, who was just aggressively confused on why he was getting a little bit angry.

Then, he gives Tim the number to his burner phone. Bernard says that he might not contact Tim, but he'd never miss a call should Tim end up using it. Tim keeps the number under a photo of them both in high school that was framed in his room.

Bernard quits his job, because although the cult in the city he lived in is dismantled, it doesn't mean they didn't exist in other places. It's not safe for him to stay in one place.

He bids Tim goodbye, and for the rest of the AU, his mind would sometimes come back to Bernard.

Weeks or months later, Jason (who I headcanon as Mycroft...) and Kon tells Tim that Bernard Dowd had been killed off in some foreign country after successfully taking down the whole cult. Tim emotionlessly sips his energy drink, while reminiscing in a flashback of going on a 'business trip', saving Bernard's life, but also killing off Bernard's 'identity'.

Somewhere out there, Alvin Draper is relieved of his international crimes and works professionally for the FBI.

#I'm so sorry if this is messy #but i had a phase in highschool and my hands are trembling from child-like excitement #scribbles #tim drake #tim drake scribbles #bernard dowd #conner kent #timbern #timkon #brucewaynehater101 your brain is beautiful and big keep doing what you're doing <3 #OMG LONNIE MACHIN AS MORIARTY---#Originally I thought Ra's but it would be so interesting if it were Lonnie---

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girlwithwolftatoo · 2 days ago

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What is chained -Chapter 1

Summary: There was a dream named Rome, and saving it doesn't always mean to chop heads off.

Words: 1677

Characters: Marcus Acacius, emperor Geta, emperor Caracalla and others.

Chapter 1: Taraxia -Disturbance

Any man who has been to sea knows that, when a storm approaches, it is preceded by a shivering calm where silence and stillness are only the desperate cry of an inevitable terror. The air becomes salty, suffocating, the sails hang lifeless, the oars are stowed. And so Acacius thought of his own ship as the slaves loaded their belongings into a wide cart, pulled by a beautiful Gaul steed with its shaggy ankles and curly mane. Lucilla watched, paralyzed with anger from the porch, her hands wringing a sprig of lavender as she struggled not to cry. Her father said that what a free man earns should not be taken from him without cause, but her brother would have sadly agreed with his successors, those two little red-haired devils. Acacius turned away, once he had signaled to the servants that they could retire, and approached the woman with what he considered a reassuring face, which he well knew was not going to do much good. It broke his heart to provoke her to so much distress, but he knew, for that is only learned through years of iron and blood, that refusal would have been worse. “I'll be fine,” he told her, reaching out a hand to stroke her face. Lucilla closed her eyes, bowing her head over the powerful hand that tried to comfort her “Listen, give me a week, two maybe, I'll send messages in the meantime and then… I'll negotiate with the senate. They'll be reasonable, once they see results.”

Lucilla sighed, looking at him defeated. “I never wished this for you, and look at you…you're being sent into the jaws of wolves.” “I'll be able to handle them, you trust, don't you trust me?” he said it lightly, smiling, but his wife didn't play along. “When you raise your sword I do not fear for you, but these… enemies… how will you defend yourself if…?” “With the senate. One word from me and they will regret it. Please…” he added in desperation, giving her a kiss on the cheek, "trust, I know what I'm doing, or at least Gracchus does.’ It was all part of a defensive plan, Acacius said to himself after saying goodbye to Lucilla, riding with his things in the wagon that was taking him to his destiny, was that destiny? he wondered as he left his villa back to the scandal of the city. No celebrations, no making the matter public, that was the decision of the good Gracchus, a great and loyal friend of his wife and her father, so as to avoid angering the demons. It was true that in any case, the demons were already angry. Thraex was still trying in vain to reassure them when the cart stopped at the palace stables, so that Acacius barely set foot when he had clear duties to perform.

“General, I thank the gods you made it” whined the man, exiting through a double door from which could be heard shouts of two men fighting loudly. Acacius looked with exasperation at the door.

“They didn't take kindly to the news, I'm afraid.”

“No way, they're a wild beast, when I told them I thought they were going to kill me.”

Acacius was already used to Thraex hypersensitivity, so he didn't take it so seriously either, and walked through the double doors as if he had just entered an enemy barracks.

On one side, there was Geta, using one of those platters for exotic meats as a shield, and at the other end, his face so reddened that it showed under the heavy makeup, Caracalla, whose raging voice had become so high-pitched that Acacius thought he was going to summon bats.

“You can't tell me what to do!” he shrieked, waving a narrow-mouthed vase varnished in gold.

“I know, I know, I just want you to listen to me, if you keep going on like that...!”

“Do you think I care, I've never been insulted... like that...!”

Geta turned his head and met Acacius, his expression soured but he did nothing but clench his jaw, Caracalla instead dropped the vase - which shattered - and went running towards him, his brother unable to stop him; the older one clenched his muscles in case he rammed him, but the little twin was reduced to stopping a good few feet away, pointing a finger at him as he groaned:

“Et tu, Justus?”

“Calm down, you're embarrassing yourself,” Geta warned him, putting a hand on his shoulder. Acacius relaxed, he detested them both in equal parts, but ruefully admitted that the older twin was a bit more reasonable. “Your Majesties… I see the patrician Thraex has already informed you of the news in the senate.” “News? You call that news?” shrieked Caracalla, wincing ”They have mocked us, that's what they did, and you participated!” “If it wasn't me, it would have been someone else, my lord, and perhaps someone less sympathetic and more… interested in the privileges to be obtained than in the good of you and Rome” continued the general. “I don't know if you haven't noticed but we are no longer children, general” Geta rebuked him, still holding his brother ”We have ruled this empire for years, since we were very young, back then no one cared about our decisions and suddenly…” “You must understand, your majesties, that the people of Rome are no longer as they were in the time of Marcus Aurelius” at the old emperor's mention, Caracalla grimaced and Geta rolled her eyes, ”when the common people were… easily satisfied because they had all they could ask for. The empire is larger, yes, but not stronger or more prosperous.” "How are they not satisfied? We give them parties, shows, military victories, what more do they want?” hinted Geta, supported by his twin who nodded vigorously. Acacius made an effort not to change his expression, that was worse than talking to an infant.

“Yes, but none of it brings food to their tables or fire to their homes. Not all of them are nobles, or wealthy dynastic providers. That's why... that's why the senate has decided...”

“Yes, yes, we know! A curator...” The tone of contempt was not lost on the general.

“See this better as a... advisor in the face of the people” he tried. Acacius regretted not knowing how to speak with the astute finesse of politicians, just now a little lip service would do him good. “If I am always at their majesties' side and... advise them on matters of the people, nothing more, then the people will perceive you as... more... approachable.”

His brain was struggling to find the right words, and he wished he had Lucilla with him, she would surely know how to explain them better. Meanwhile, on the twins' faces there was an identical internal struggle. It was Caracalla who spoke first:

“Who was the idiot who suggested this plan? It couldn't have been you” He said it as if the very idea mortified him.

“No, I certainly don't know, the senate communicated to me only the decision... and that they voted for me as your... advisor.”

“And well, will you be glued to us at all hours? Will you follow us everywhere to tell us how to do our work, general?” asked Geta.

“Their majesties know that I don't know about politics. Of war, on the other hand...”

Yes, he thought suddenly, now that he could explain.

“Come, please, I want to show their majesties something” he requested as politely as he was able, approaching one of the exquisitely narrow windows. The twins followed him, wary. “See out there? Beyond those marble statues and those white steps…that's Rome, your subjects. Tell me, if you were down there, like them, arguing in the marketplace over the prices of a bit of garum and taking your boots to be darned for the third time in the year, how would you feel?” None answered, it seemed too existential a question for their brains. “The enemy can become an ally, if conquered…and it must not always be through violence. You want those people at your feet? You will have to win them back. That's what I'm here for.” The thought brought a strange smile to the twins' faces. Geta, the sharpest, nodded. “Ah, I understand… you'll make them love us, won't you? They adore you, how they get when they see you marching in your chariot! They almost deafen us, don't they?” he asked, turning to Caracalla. “Oh yes, good General Justus, they would make you emperor if they could…” he added with venom.

"Well then, if your majesties would offer your help, I could… well, I would take this matter very seriously. My duty…” he felt a shudder as he said it, "is for Rome to love you once more." That seemed to be enough for Geta, at least he was calmer. Caracalla however continued to insist. “What's in it for you, general? You already have a beautiful house, a noble wife, a superb horse… what more could you want?” Acacius thought it was amusing that the boy spoke to him as if he could bargain. “I do it for Rome, the people I swore to protect and glorify. Nothing more.” “Well… they certainly haven't announced the matter with fanfare” Geta commented, thoughtfully ”We would have expected you to arrive with full honors, a little party for your appointment…”

“No way, I'm not doing it for my own benefit and besides, it would be improper for me to have a party for such a thing. Too many parties would anger the people.”

“Especially since they are not invited” reasoned Caracalla with a silly chuckle ”Yes, yes, that's all very well, I think we can survive this. Don't overdo it, General, and I don't see why we shouldn't get along.”

“Excellent.”

Acacius took his leave, in order to go to his assigned quarters. Part of being curatormeant that he had to live in the palace, the one thing he abhorred most about that job; if Lucilla wasn't so friendly with Gracchus he would punch him in the face for getting him into that mess, but he would have time to ruminate on his frustration, perhaps later in the bath when he could relax as well. For now he had to go back to being the general, and come up with a strategy for this unequal war.

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saioratral · 16 hours ago

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so there's this professor... - 01 Fractured Equations masterlist

“do you even know yourself, or are you just another child moulded by the world around us?”

your small eyes search for the voice, a distant echo floating in the cold air. you shuffle closer, yearning for the warmth of the fading memory, but the chilly air of britain’s streets sink into your bones. here, survival isn’t merely a skill; it’s a daily battle that leaves you feeling small and utterly alone like a speck of dust

“promise me you won’t fall into the mould”

you look up, your heart aching at the sight of her sad smile painted on like a fragile mask of a porcelain doll, cracking at the edges. behind it lies grief far too vast for a seven-year-old to fathom.

how could you ever comprehend the weight of her sorrow?

your tiny hands reach out, desperate for comfort, but all you grasp is emptiness—the coldness of fingers that once cradled you close, now forever still. cold hands fall on your face as you stare in horror

no word slips from your lips, not even a fragile whisper, just a silent plea from your heart. another reminder that love can vanish, leaving only absence in your already empty void. you want to scream, to shake her from her slumber.

but instead, you sit there. hope became a cruel joke, and the warmth of her embrace is a ghost that taunts you. tears prick as you try your hardest to carve her smile into your memory. in that moment, you realise

you’re not just searching for her; you’re searching for yourself in the ruins of her despair.

“mother..?”

…

“hold on- let me say goodbye to my mother before we head off”

you snap back to the present, watching your best friend dash into his mother’s store. you see her happy smile as she leans down, allowing him to plant a small kiss on her cheek before he turns away. you’ve always waited for him before heading to class. it’s a cherished tradition: you walk to his house in the morning, and he walks you back after class

“flowers? my mom had extras,” alvin offers, pushing a small bouquet of neatly arranged lavender roses into your hands.

“you always give me the same kind,” you say, bringing it closer

“blame my mom for growing too many. come on! we’re going to be late!” he insists, pulling you along, not wanting to elaborate

“i miss my mother whenever i see yours,” you mutter softly, the words slipping out before you can catch them

“i miss her too- even though i never met her. which is weird if you think about it,” alvin replies, glancing back at your sad expression

“i can’t remember her anymore”

you switch off your thoughts for a moment, letting him navigate through the bustling marketplace. you treasure these few minutes, allowing your imagination to roam. daydreaming is another beloved pastime, and alvin provides the perfect escape into your bubble of comfort.

with your bag slung over his shoulder, he takes your hand in his free hand, unwilling to lose you in the crowd.

“i heard we have a new maths professor,” alvin begins again, trying to lift the mood

“he’s supposed to be young and a genius,” he adds, looking at you for a reaction.

“maths professor? what about mrs aya?” you suddenly remember

“oh, her? thomas said she’s now in his astronomy class- lucky fella,” alvin groans

you laugh at his silliness. the only reason he liked mrs. aya was for the free snacks she gave out after class. her husband, a wealthy lord, often sent treats during her lessons, accompanied by a signature green note that wished her a great day ahead.

“one day, i’m going to find out who her lover is so i can ask if he has a sister! i’ve never tasted such wonderful cookies,” alvin reminisces

“i guess you won’t have them anymore,” you pat his back as he sulks at the thought

and just like that, you both walk toward your university building. alvin greets everyone he sees on campus, a habit that leaves you questioning his motives

“no? i’m not friends with security, but everyone deserves a good smile!” he responds cheerily

“you’re not fully dressed without a smile.”

“did you just quote haz-”

“stop. robert and his gang.. again”

with that, alvin moves you behind him, muttering about “stupid rich boys” as they approach. you clutch the flowers closer, watching him roll his eyes dramatically. a sigh escapes his lips as he stands face-to-face with robert

“how do you always bump into us? it’s almost like you wait here,” alvin begins

“me? wait for some peasants? do you not know who i am? i am robert smith! the-”

“the second son of lord smith and the sole heir of the luxury leather manufacturers. we know. you’re a broken record at this point,” alvin interrupts, mimicking him.

“i see [last name] still comes here. have you not found a partner yet? you keep coming to ‘educate’ yourself, but what’s the point? no one would hire a low-class rat,” robert retorts, his friends snickering in the background.

“i told you to leave us alone, right? get lost” alvin insists, trying to shoo robert away, but he stands firm

“i could propose to spare your lowly life… i do need a new piece for my future collection,” robert continues to taunt

“ooh, how unfortunate! to me, [name] leroy sounds a lot better than [name] smith- which, by the way, sounds like a shoe polisher,” alvin shoots back as he walks away with you

“you don’t always have to defend me,” you mutter, glancing back at the fuming robert.

“grow a spine first stupid” alvin replies, looking at you with his usual smile.

with that, you both reach your first class. mathematics has its own muse, but you’ve never understood the supposed muse. while you’re not failing, you’re certainly not a star student either. you settle into your seats in the middle rows as alvin struggles to see the board from far

“glasses aren’t such a bad thing…” you comment as you pull out your notebook.

“true, but i don’t see why i should pay so much just to read the board,” alvin sighs, slouching back with his latest magazine.

“you’re going to pay attention to the board… with a magazine?” you question.

“shush, i don’t want to label you as a snitch,” he teases, flipping through the pages.

you let the conversation drop, not wanting to disturb his reading. your gaze drifts around the classroom, where a mix of new faces and familiar ones fills the room. it’s a new semester, and getting into the university was not easy, given the challenging entry requirements.

right on cue, your new professor walks in. his striking blonde hair catches your eye, making him stand out immediately. even his three-piece brown suit looked more expensive than your entire snack budget.

he stands before the board, chalk in hand, neatly writing his name with precision. even his handwriting exudes a sense of perfection. he appears rather young for a mathematics professor, surprising you further.

“i am william james moriarty,” he introduces himself as he turns to the students. “i’ll be teaching mathematics.”

"moriarty...?", alvin mumbles the name and shudders. you look at him strangely but he doesn't seem to care

“i hope you take this class seriously. i remember a quote by albert einstein,” william states.

“pure mathematics is, in its way, the poetry of logical ideas.”

“what is he even saying?” alvin whispers, and you shrug in response

“now, some of you might be like mr. leroy here, confused as to why i brought this up,” william continues. “think of my words as motivation.”

“he knows my name??” alvin gasps, nearly shouting in your ear

“i am well aware of everyone’s name, mr. leroy. you’re not as quiet as you presume to be,” he replies, and the class erupts into laughter.

you can’t help but join in as alvin buries his face in his arms, magazine forgotten on the floor. the rest of the class unfolds normally. your professor teaches, and the time slips away. class had ended before you even finished your notes.

“should we get him a little gift?” you ask as you pack your bag

“a gift?? for him?? after he embarrassed me??” alvin exclaims, his bewildered expression making you laugh

“your hair is messy again silly”, you sighed

a silence falls between you, and you reach out to push the bangs from his forehead. he flinches, feeling your hand before swatting it away to fix his hair himself muttering about how he could do it himself

“okay, so what are you going to get him, your majesty?” alvin rolls his eyes

“a set of new chalk?” you suggest

“chalk? why? the school provides him with a huge box!” he reasons.

“no, no! i mean the kind used by mathematicians- hagoromo chalk! isn’t it nice? i could even knit him a small napkin to clean the board later on!” you continued

“i don’t see you putting this much effort into my gifts…”

© saioratral 2024-25 -- do not repost, translate, alter, etc on any platform without permission. Any characters used in my work do not belong to me, they are created by their original creator. all images used are from pinterest

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